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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Lionel, Lord of the Jungle
by Jason (jacklloyd22@hotmail.com)
***
Forget Tarzan. Lionel is the main-man in Africa. (MMm,
ped, humor, parody)
***
With a nod to some fine old black and white movies I
once saw in the past.
***
"Ooooooggg, yahoooooooo!"
With the ease of an animal born to it, Lionel Lord of
the Jungle moved through the lush forest canopy of
equatorial Africa with practised elegance, huge biceps
bulging, sinews stretched, fine toned muscles rippling
the entire length of his near naked, glistening body.
In a mode of travel unique to him and the lesser
primates he swung effortlessly from trailing vine to
trailing vine to cover in a few minutes a distance that
would take a whole day for men marching on foot.
Having spent a full day himself chasing gunrunners and
slave-traders while carrying vital vaccines and packets
of condoms to outlying districts, the Lord of the
Jungle was at last on his way home.
On the outskirts of a native village the master of
aerial agility gave a last kick with his legs before
leaping down to hit the ground square on his feet.
"Ouch, shit! I'm gonna bust my heels one day if I don't
start wearing sneakers."
Solemnly he stalked down to the village where Boy was
waiting to greet him at the door of a hut built of mud
and woven grass. Boy was pubescent, slender and
extremely beautiful and like Lionel he's was naked save
for a small loincloth; the swimming trunks worn beneath
it in previous years now having been discarded.
"Is dinner ready Boy?" asked the Lord of the Jungle.
"Nope," replied Boy, "Lady Janet took the afternoon off
to go up river and see Chief Zimmerframe's golden
horn."
The Lord of the Jungle's partner, Lady Janet Greybrick,
was an English aristocrat who'd rejected a life of
sumptuous luxury to live in a mud hut in Africa with an
uneducated, penniless deadbeat, and the deadbeat often
had trouble with her independent attitude. In fact she
was still so hoity-toity he couldn't understand what
she said half the time.
Lionel grunted. "Damn that golden horn. Every time
Janet goes to see it she don't come back with anything
but a fat smile on her face.
After pondering for a moment he thrust out his chin.
"Looks like I'm gonna have to find a goat carcass an'
skin it, gut it, an' cut it into convenient sized
pieces. Then maybe I'll be able to trade it for a
carry-out from Mrs. Mbelogo's hut."
He frowned. "God I hate that woman's carry-outs. They
always taste like baboon turd."
"Mrs. Mbelogo's carry-outs ARE baboon turd," said Boy.
The Lord of the Jungle looked grim and nodded. "Yeah,
but it wouldn't be so bad if the goddamn bitch weren't
so tight with the chili sauce."
Putting off making an immediate decision Lionel turned
and put a friendly arm about his young companion's
small shoulders. Boy was an orphan he'd taken in when
he began to develop and start to look cute. "Well,
while Janet's away I reckon it's a good time to do -
erm - say a few things to you. It's useful for us guys
to chat together man-to-man now and then when there's
delicate issues to discuss, don't you reckon?"
Boy looked up at him doubtfully. "I watch you and Janet
screwin' in the corner of the hut every night, Lionel.
Are you finally gonna explain to me about fuckin'?"
Lionel cringed and looked slightly shocked. "Hell no,
nothing like that. I was just gonna say you need to
swap your meager little loincloth for a new one. Purple
went out of style months ago y'know. You'd be better
off wearing turquoise or lemon-yellow now."
Avoiding any further attempt at rapport with someone
who was cleverer than he was, Lionel stormed in through
the door of the hut and gazed in satisfaction at the
large chair in the centre of the straw-strewn floor.
"Ah, the catalogue people have delivered my new
recliner; blue chintz upholstery and stainless steel
frame. Not much for the termites to chew on there, eh?"
"Looks a bit out of place in a mud hut," Boy remarked
doubtfully has he followed him in.
Lionel pouted petulantly. "Out of place! Oh no, blue
chintz is perfect.
Almond would have been awful, and mauve really would
have clashed."
He sat on it gingerly and tested the pile of the
padding. "Pink would have been nice, but us guys like
to leave some choice for the girlies."
Satisfied that the item met with all his specifications
he swung up his legs and stretched out, sighing with
relief has his weary limbs relaxed. Quite suddenly a
frown creased his brow.
"Don't be in a hurry to grow up, kid. It's a jungle out
there in that rain forest."
Boy blinked. "Er... yeah, I guess it must be."
"So many trees a guy can't get an even suntan, and so
hot you're stuffed without a decent deodorant. Choose
the wrong one and the mosquitoes have you for
breakfast. Worst of all, there's not a flushing toilet
anywhere." He sighed deeply.
"Swingin' through those damn trees all the time is a
nightmare. I banged my goolies on a tourist's head on
the way home. Near snapped his neck an' near broke my
balls."
Boy at last showed some concern. "Gee whiz! You're
wedding tackle is the source of countless peoples
fantasies, you can't risk having it damaged. Do you
want to strip off your loincloth so I can take a look?"
Lionel nodded. "Yes, good idea, and take off your own
loincloth so I can have a look too."
(Cut to stock film footage of black men pounding drums
and modestly dressed native women performing
traditional ethnic dances - Annnd stop!)
Back in the hut Boy put on a cute winsome expression as
he posed to reveal himself without his loincloth, and
Lionel nodded with approval at the attractive smooth
sugar-stick pillowed on his soft, wrinkled little
pouch. "Your doin' all right, kid. That little flute of
yours will play many a fine tune when you're older."
Lionel possessed something more like a boa-constrictor
slumping over a bag of apples in his lap, and Boy moved
thoughtfully forward to hold the bulging under-hanging
fruits in his hands.
"How does that feel?"
"Mmmm! Better. Rather nice and it doesn't hurt at all.
You sure have a healing touch, kid."
"And if I roll 'em around like this?" asked Boy as he
lifted the heavy sack.
A simple caress initiated an immediate reaction.
Lionel's cock swelled rapidly to full erection, big and
strong, with its underside marked by an artery as thick
as a rope.
"Ooooh, yeah! Zambezi-easy, that's good."
"Makes your dangle go thick and stand up." remarked Boy
as his fingers explored the vastness of the man's
rammer, following the thick vein on its under surface
all the way down to the root.
"Sure does, my little pipsqueak. It loves your
thoughtful attention."
"This kind of attention?" Boy asked has he took a full
handed grip and rolled the sheath of foreskin down over
the bulbous, purple tip and gazed at the flaring pee-
hole.
"Oooooh, wow, oooh, yeah! That's rather lovely."
"'Spect you'd like me to kiss something better. You
usually do."
"Good idea. A fine idea."
The tip of Boy's pink, wet tongue smoothed delicately
around the slavering, plump summit of Lionel's rearing
cock before he gripped the base of it with his fingers
and slid the top portion into his mouth.
Lionel groaned, but Boy wasn't finished.
Drawing a lung full of breath through his nose he
pushed his mouth down until the fat tip of the vast
gland hit the back of his throat, and then he slowly
dragged his lips up again.
Lifting his sweet mouth away he pressed the shiny, wet
head of the man-cock against his sun-tanned cheek.
"Was that okay?" he asked.
"Yeh, yeh. But concentrate more on the top end. That's
where the nice feelings hits me best."
Boy promptly put the lump of steaming, hard meat back
into his mouth, and the Lord of the Jungle squirmed,
revelling in lewd sensation as his cock sawed in and
out.
After a few moments he put his hands on the back of
Boy's head as the youngster's lips began to increase
their speed of movement.
"Yeow, wow!"
He moaned wildly as his hips gave an almighty upward
heave and his cock ejected several strong pulses of
cream.
Boy's eyelashes fluttered and a whinny of surprise
squeezed out from his throat.
At that moment the Commissioner of Police came bursting
through the door. He was a tall, thin man with a grey
moustache and usually he was calm and composed, but at
that moment he looked extremely agitated. He gave a
swift glance at Boy who was rising up and wiping a
puddle of spilt sperm from his chin with the back of
his hand.
"Sorry to intrude while people are still eating,
Lionel, but we have a crisis. I've just heard that
fifty Warimi tribesmen and a couple of white ner'do-
wells are planning to cross the rope bridge at the
chasm and plunder the incredibly old and mysterious
Secret Sacred City of Antiquity on the other side. What
shall we do?"
Lionel climbed from his recliner, stood straight,
sucked in his abdomen and puffed out his chest.
"Leave it to me commissioner. This is the kind of job a
Lord of the Jungle does best. It's what I'm here for."
With a single energetic bound, and then a couple more,
he leap to the door.
"Shouldn't you get dressed first?" the commissioner
asked.
Lionel paused. "Huh! Oh sure. Is there a telephone
cubicle around here?"
The commissioner frowned. "Isn't getting dressed in a
telephone cubicle one of Superman's gimmicks?"
"Yeh, so it is. He wears such lovely tight fitting
suits too, I often get carried away thinking about 'em.
I've always fancied being the Caped Crusader."
Boy sighed. "Batman is the Caped Crusader."
The lad's muscle-bound, naked mentor gave a snort of
contempt. "Bah! Johnnie-come-lately's all of 'em. The
Lord of the Jungle was the first and original super
hero."
He then gave his prodigy a searing look. "No time to
dress, lad, we've a Secret Sacred City of Antiquity to
save."
The commissioner fondled a rising bulge in the front of
his trousers and slyly winked at Lionel's youthful
partner.
"No need for you to go on a dangerous jaunt like this,
Boy. There are plenty of things you could be doing
around here."
Boy gazed up at him with a look of mild reprimand. "I
always see you on Tuesday evenings commissioner. Don't
mess up my routine, I've spent all afternoon carving it
on a tree." To the Lord of the Jungle he said. "We'll
have to walk Lionel? I can't swing through the trees
like you do."
A rare light of cunning gleamed in Lionel's eyes and he
smirked. "To hell with walkin' an' swinging through
trees. I've got a jeep parked down by the river, so
we're ridin'."
Boy was aghast. "But Lionel, you were found as a baby
in the forest and raised by apes. You can swing through
the trees like a monkey, but you can't drive."
The Lord of the Jungle smiled derisively.
"Never let things like that get in the way of a good
story, kid. Come on, let's go."
(Cut to stock film footage of vast herds of wildebeest
careering over the African savannah - Annnd stop!)
As the jeep rumbled along the narrow jungle trail
Lionel gazed over at Boy with some concern.
"Yer dick's still stiff, kid"
The lad nodded. "That's on account of me being stuck
with a lousy lover who never finishes things off
right."
Lionel pursed his mouth. "I'll snap the bastard's neck
for yer when we get back Boy, but right now I don't
want you to sit so close. I'm pretty new to these
newfangled jeep-thingies an' your prick looks too much
like the gear-stick."
They'd only gone a mile before they had to pull up for
a red light at a jungle crossing, and Lionel growled
with annoyance. "Ain't it allus the same? Every time
you need to get somewhere fast the damn lights are
against you."
He wrapped his hand around Boy's cock, and while he was
jerking it he watched a fat old mama carrying a bowl on
her head waddling down the trial on the right. When she
reached the junction she swung towards them.
"Mrs. Mbelogo, don't you ever indicate when you turn
off the trail?" chaffed the Lord of the Jungle.
"Sorry boss, m'mind was on other things," the woman
replied.
As she approached Lionel sniffed suspiciously as a
noxious aroma wafted down from the bowl on her head.
"You been out collectin' baboon shit fer carry-outs?"
The woman grinned, showing a set of tombstone teeth.
"Nah, the baboon's are all pooped out around here, but
I found me a heap o' rhinoceros dung today so I's gonna
try a new recipe - Rhino-crap dumplings, with edgar
rice."
"Sounds - er - interestin'."
"Top-notch grub."
She stepped closer to get a better view of Lionel's
hand pumping Boy's cock. "Careful how you handle that
thing, Lionel. Boy may be only a kid, but his lil'
carrier-bags hold enough whitewash to paint a ceiling."
Her smile broadened as she gazed at the youngsters
face. "Y'll have to come over an' see me agin soon,
honey, I'm a'thinkin' o' redecoratin'."
"Sure Mrs. Mbelogo" Boy panted, "I'll come an' visit as
long as you promise not to offer me supper."
The lights flashed green to go, and forsaking all
niceties Lionel shoved Boys cock into first gear, put
his foot on the accelerator and sped across into the
trees.
Then he had to struggle for several minutes to get back
onto the road.
"Damn, damn, damn!" cursed the Lord of the Jungle.
"Hey, will you take it easy?" Boy grimaced, "My dick
don't do reverse."
When they arrived at the rope bridge over the chasm
they were met by fifty fierce armed tribesmen led by
two rough looking white men carrying hunting guns. On
recognising Lionel the natives shrieked in terror,
threw down their spears and ran off, but the two white
men, one ugly and the other just plain sneaky looking,
stayed to level their rifles.
"Who the hella you, fellah?" asked the ugly one.
"I'm Lord of the Jungle, so be afraid." Lionel's voiced
boomed loudly.
"Afraid!" Ugly looked at Sneaky, then back at Lionel.
"Afraid o' some naturist, nudey puddin'-head out on a
joyride? No way. You may have frightened the natives
with your freaky looks Lord of the Jungle, but you'll
have a tougher time scaring off a couple of hard-nosed
bullets."
Lionel glared. 'Freaky Pudding-head!' His face
contorted. Angry, affronted and indignant he sprang up
to beat his fists on his chest. "Ooooooggg,
yahooooooooo!"
"What's all that racket for?" enquired Sneaky.
The Lord of the Jungle looked abashed. "I stood up too
quick and banged my cock on the steering wheel," he
explained.
Carefully he clambered out from the jeep, then
straightening up he marched gamely, fearlessly,
stupidly towards the two dangerous desperado's. "Now
just listen here you fellahs, you could soon be in
serious trouble unless you change your ways."
Ugly grinned, showing a row of broken teeth. "Oh yeah!
How d'yer reckon that?"
"I can tell by your appearance neither of you have
washed or shaved for several days, and poor personal
hygiene can quickly cause all kinds of health problems
in an equatorial climate."
"This guy's a loony, let's fill him with holes,"
growled Ugly.
Sneaky smiled sneakily. "Nah, let's just lose his
balls. Let's take out one each."
Lionel came to a shuffling halt as a pair of gun
muzzles panned down, and he suddenly wished he'd paused
earlier to put on his brown Sunday loincloth.
Just as fingers were squeezing down on triggers, Boy
climbed out from the passenger side of the jeep and
walked around to the front, and there he posed sideways
on, hands on hips, one knee jutting slightly forward,
young cock at full erection with its foreskin drawn all
the way back to expose a dark pink tip.
Peering along his shoulder his lush eyelashes fanned up
and down and he gave the two wastrel ner'do-wells a
scintillating look with hooded eyes that was pure
seduction.
"Don't ignore me, boys," he piped cutely. "I may be
young, but I'm hot for tough-guys who stink of sweat."
The men's trousers tented out magnificently as they
gaped in astonishment, and a drivel of saliva ran down
Ugly's chin.
While their attention was diverted Lionel was able to
step forward and yank the guns from their hands, and
then with an upward swing he brought the butt end of
the weapons up to clack on the side of their heads.
When both Ugly and Sneaky had collapsed into a single
untidy heap, Lionel turned to his young companion.
"Thanks for the timely help, Boy Wonder. I'd have ended
up a soprano forever but for you, and a thing like that
can play havoc with a career as Lord of the Jungle."
"I'm not Boy Wonder, Lionel," his companion protested.
"Boy Wonder is Batman's sidekick, and his real name is
Robin."
The Lord of the Jungle sucked his teeth, "Damn it, I
should have suspected something like that. Them quirky
dudes in silly suits get all the best lines."
At that moment the commissioner came panting along the
jungle trail, busily filling his pipe with tobacco.
"You got here quick, commissioner."
"Yeah, I thumbed a lift with a lorry load of ivory
poachers. All okay guys - as long as you ain't a
elephant. Pretty generous with the old wacky-baccy
too."
He took a moment to put a match to his pipe as he
studied the two unconscious men on the ground, then he
puffed out a billow of blue smoke. "That's thirty-six
times you've saved the Secret Sacred City of Antiquity
from being plundered this year, Lionel."
The Lord of the Jungle gazed serenely across the deep
chasm towards the mysterious Secret Sacred City of
Antiquity on the other side. The colonnades and
terraces along its primary avenues were now clogged
with lichen and moss, while creepers and vines laced
the ancient crumbling towers of its temples and
palaces, the domes of which seemed to glow golden in
the evening half-light.
The city was a unique, timeless monument to an unknown
race of people who had once lived, worked and died in
central Africa during in an era yet to be defined by
science.
"Yes, and I ruined my manicure when I grabbed those
owlhoots guns this time." he said gravely, "But I guess
it was worth it. There are too few beautiful things
left unspoilt in this world commissioner, and it's
important to keep this one untainted until Disneyland
comes to Africa. Then we can sell it as a ready-made
feature and go live in Bermuda."
The Lord of the Jungle turned to his young partner.
"We've done our job here, let's go home, Boy. Your
backside and I have a date with a bowl of coconut oil."
Boy made no effort to move has he felt Lionel's beefy
hand gratuitously stroking his bare bottom.
"Coconuts don't grow in Africa," he said.
Lionel scoffed lightly and chuckled. "Have faith in
Hollywood, Robin. If coconut oil is needed, it'll be
there."
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a
fellow convict in their local prison.
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