A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 126 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER:

There can be only one ship's captain, but Randy and Zack are both alpha males. Their rivalry erupts in a ferocious no-holds-barred wrestling match. The winner gets the ass of the loser's boy. Two muscle-gods, one black as ebony, the other a dark, handsome gypsy. The loser pleads: "You've beaten me, man. I'm begging you. I can't take any more. I submit." Later Mark gets an erotic phone call from Jamie.

I welcome your comments and suggestions, guys, as they can be very helpful in planning future chapters. E-mail me in confidence at rw6789@aol.com. I always reply.

ALSO, I urge you to visit my Web-site www.atrialofstrength.com. You can read the whole story, all the many chapters, with extras, including some great artwork. Click on the `Our Story' tab to read it chapter by chapter. Enjoy!

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH Chapter 126 – "Captain of the Ship"

After Mark had taken Bob on the ultimate fantasy trip they were now lying naked in bed, the first of seven nights they would spend together.

Bob's thoughts wandered to his lover Randy who was on a fishing trip to Catalina Island with Zack, Pablo and Darius, in a rented cabin cruiser. Mark saw the wistful look in Bob's eyes and read his thoughts. "Call him, buddy," he smiled. "He's probably thinking about you right around now." So Bob called Randy and put him on speaker phone so Mark could hear.

"Trip's going fine," Randy said. "The boat's perfect and the boys are thrilled to bits. I'm up here on deck taking a breather... the guys are down in the cabins. It should be a great week ..."

"But ..." said Bob hearing a reticence in Randy's voice."

"Shit, can't hide anything from you, can I? Oh, I dunno ... you know me, the way I can be. Guess I came on a bit strong ... kind of a `captain-of-the-ship' thing ... and I must've rubbed Zack the wrong way. You know he don't take shit from anyone and ... I guess I was giving him shit. Hell, man, I wish you were here to keep me in check ... to referee, at least."

"Randy, you two were bound to butt heads at first. You're like two stallions staking out your turf. But you'll sort things out between you. Thing is, deep down you love and respect each other, so you'll work it out in your own way. Just don't screw it up for the boys."

"Oh they're fine ... happy as pigs in shit. And you know that whatever happens Darius will be filming it with that damn camera of his. So don't worry, you'll get to see it all in living color. I'd better go below now to Pablo. He's probably got that sweet ass of his high in the air waiting for me to fuck it. Zack and Darius are already going at it in their cabin. So everything's fine ... or soon will be. Hey, Mark, let that man of mine get some sleep will ya? And Bob, I love you, man. I miss you. Can't wait to see you. G'night, buddy."

Bob sighed as he snapped the phone shut, and Mark said, "Well, that's no more than we expected. You know Randy ... and Zack. Put those two studs in a small space, protective of their boys, and there'll be steam coming from their nostrils until they both piss on their territory and set some boundaries."

"Guess so," said Bob, then he laughed. "Can't wait to see the movie."

Randy's request of Mark to "let that man of mine get some sleep" turned out to be unnecessary. After the exhausting events of the evening (and after Bob had evened the score by fucking Mark) the two men slept long and deep, wrapped in each other's arms. The next morning Mark reluctantly got up early for his 8am shift at work, leaving Bob in bed staring at the ceiling.

With a smile on his face (and a growing erection) Bob re-imagined the entire fantasy that Mark had treated him to, ending in their marathon love-making. But in the end his thoughts (and his erection) focused on Randy, especially their late-night phone conversation. Knowing Randy and Zack as well as he did, he was sure Mark had been right ... and he imagined the two alpha males flexing their muscles in some sort of ritual trial of strength before things settled down between them.

Mark was right, of course, he always was ... not something that could be said of Randy, impulsive and quick to anger. But that's what bound Bob to Randy ... the excitement of loving a volatile, unpredictable and supremely beautiful man. He was still thinking about him when he went into the kitchen and found the twins waiting breakfast for him. They had been up early to make sure Mark had something to eat before he left, but Bob was working at home today so they had time to talk.

And surprisingly it turned out that the twins had been thinking of Randy too. At first they talked animatedly of their role in Mark's fantasy, but gradually their enthusiasm diminished until they were picking at their food in what Bob sensed was an uneasy silence. He smiled at them and asked, "OK, guys, what's up? You have problems with what Mark did yesterday?"

"Oh no, sir," Kyle said. "Nothing like that. We love Mark ... "

"So?" Bob persisted.

Kevin took over, "Well, sir, Kyle and me were talking last night."

"Uh-oh," Bob smiled, "that usually spells trouble."

"And we were wondering ..." he trailed off uncomfortably, looking helplessly at Kyle. Kyle took the bull by the horns and said quickly, "What Kevin means, sir, is ... well, it's none of our business, but... sir, are you going to leave Randy for Mark?"

Bob's eyes opened wide in astonishment and he stared at them. "Whatever brought that on?"

"Well, sir," said Kevin. "Mark said that he thought of you and us two as a small family and hoped he could be part of that family, so we thought ..."

"So you put two and two together and came up with four ... but the wrong four, kids. Sure there's a family ... you two, me ... and Randy. Don't forget that Mark said "for this week". This is a kind of vacation where we're going to have a good time with Mark, and as you can tell Mark and I love each other a whole lot. But you gotta get one thing clear. Randy and I have something between us that I couldn't begin to describe to you ... hell, we don't even understand it. But it runs real, real deep and we know that we will always be together ... and you'll be right there with us. Now that's family.

"Mark knows all that and he's fine with it. He's totally in love with Jamie and can't wait for him to get home from Australia. In the meantime, this week Mark and I will make love and have a lot of sex, but when it's over I'll be back with Randy, and Mark will have Jamie. See?"

The twins mulled this over for a while, then relaxed. Kevin brightened. "I get it. So for this week it's you and Mark together here at the house, and Randy and Zack together on the boat."

"Yeah, kinda like that ... yeah."

Kyle added logically, "And Randy and Zack are probably making love right now the way you and Mark did."

"Well," Bob winced, "I'm not sure I'd go that far..."

And he was right not to ... unless Kyle had meant "making love" in the widest and wildest possible sense. No, the old hippie saying `make love, not war' had been upended and a state of cold war hung over the cruiser anchored off Catalina Island. And the cold war was bound to heat up.

The problem had started right after they had pushed off from Long Beach. They were all new to the boat and it took some organizing to get things ship-shape ... under the firm hand of a captain. Needless to say, Randy assumed that role and efficiently began giving orders and assigning tasks. Pablo and Darius took all this in stride and naturally accepted Randy as the authority figure. They were thrilled with the cruiser and, to their credit, worked hard to get it under way.

Zack was another matter. He was accustomed to being the authority figure, with everyone around him always obeying whatever orders he gave. On the construction site he was a much admired boss and commanded total respect. But here he found himself just one of a three-man crew, being ordered around like the boys.

Zack and Randy were two rugged, alpha males and the love and respect they felt for each other was always tinged with a competitive edge, a need to prove their dominance. Indeed it was precisely their admiration of the other man's great beauty and their respect for his rugged masculinity that created this rivalry, and the impulse they both felt to challenge each other. There is often a thin line between admiration, envy and rivalry, and these men were about to cross that line.

Normally when Zack saw Randy in heavy "boss" mode he would simply walk away and give himself some space. But here on the boat there was no space, nowhere to walk away to. So Zack brooded ... and Randy brooded. All the way across the Santa Barbara Channel the tension mounted, and when they finally anchored a hundred yards off shore dinner was a tense affair. Afterwards Randy had gone up on deck alone, where he had been when Bob phoned.

God he wished Bob had been here. He would have stepped in and cleared everything up in five minutes. He was a master of diplomacy ... and Randy was a master of his fists. "Shit," he murmured to himself. "This is fucking bullshit." And although the night was clear and starlit, storm clouds hovered over the boat.

And the storm broke early next morning. Zack was up on deck while down below Randy was becoming increasingly frustrated trying to instruct Pablo on the working of the bilge pumps. Darius was, as usual, amused by the goings on and, also as usual, had his camera to his eye, closing in on Randy and Pablo. Randy turned suddenly and bumped hard into Darius. "Shit!" All the frustration and tension that had been building now spilled over into anger ... and Darius had the misfortune of being the target.

"For god's sake, boy, what the fuck you think you're doing? Get that damn thing out of my face."

Unwisely Darius talked back. "But it's my camera, sir. I'm just making a record of the trip."

"Who needs a damn record? Put the fucking camera away and try to make yourself useful for a change, you shithead, or I'll take you and the damn camera and throw you both over the side.

Immediately the words were out of his mouth and he saw the wounded expression on Darius's downcast face Randy knew he had gone too far. Once again his anger had consumed him. But he didn't have time to reflect on it because a hand grabbed his shoulder from behind and whirled him round. Randy found himself looking into a pair of blazing eyes.

Zack exploded. "OK, you mother-fucker, that does it. You can say whatever you like to me, order me around like a fucking cabin-boy, but attack my boy like that and you answer to me. Nobody talks to him like that while I'm around."

Randy should have backed off ... but Randy never backed off. "OK, dickhead, so here I am, answering to you. And what the fuck you gonna do about it?"

Zack seethed with anger. "Man, this has been coming on ever since we left, you pulling that big stud `Captain Randy' act. But this time you've pushed too far ... and it has to be settled. It's not Darius and his camera that's going over the side, pal, it's you. Let's take this up top."

Fuming, they both stormed up on deck. Zack was yelling at Randy, prodding him in the chest and Randy pushed back. In a ritual challenge they raised their arms high and their hands locked together in a classic wrestling move as they pushed against each other. "Asshole," Zack growled. "You had this coming. It's gonna be a pleasure throwing you overboard."

"Oh yeah?" Randy said with a grim smile. "We'll see about that, pal."

The boys' startled faces appeared at the hatch, watching in awe as the two muscle-studs, wearing only their boxers, strained for the advantage. They were evenly matched and their muscles bulged and flexed as first one man was pushed to the rail, then the other. They were pitching from one side of the deck to the other ... and the inevitable happened. Locked together they fell against the low rail and plunged into the deep water below.

The boys raced on deck, in time to see them surface, still struggling for supremacy. They were in a bear-hug now, heads going under, then resurfacing. In a last gasp of strength Randy heaved Zack away from him, turned and began to swim away from the boat.

They were on the remote south side of the island, anchored a hundred yards off a small, deserted cove. Zack knew instantly that Randy was making for the beach, and he knew too that whoever reached it first had the advantage. So with long, powerful strokes the two men raced for the shore.

"The dinghy," Darius yelled to Pablo. "Quick, dude ... into the dinghy."

Quickly they clambered into the small dinghy tied behind the cruiser. Darius cast off and Pablo began to row frantically toward shore. Even in his excitement Darius had not forgotten his camera, which he now trained on Pablo, his young muscles rippling with the strain of rowing. "Shit that looks hot," Darius said. "Keep rowing dude."

"Darius," Pablo yelled in frustration. "Don't you ever take anything serious?"

"Whad'ya mean? This is way serious. This is major stuff and I gotta get it on camera. You'll thank me later, dude ... row harder."

The tranquility of the small beach was suddenly shattered as two tall, muscular men burst from the waves, breath heaving, eyes blazing. Randy was the stronger swimmer and ran up the beach first. But Zack was close behind and knew that he had to rob Randy of the advantage. He pounded up behind him and launched himself forward, grabbing him hard round the waist in a football tackle, bringing them both crashing to the ground.

Zack's arms were locked in a grip of steel round Randy's stomach, as Randy flexed his rock-hard abs against them. As they rolled over and over Randy's arms flailed in a desperate attempt to free himself from the vise. He maneuvered onto his stomach pressed his palms and knees into the sand, and with a superhuman effort, forced himself upward against his assailant. He powered up onto to his feet and Zack lost his grip.

Now the two men paced round each other, their eyes locked on each other, wary wrestlers searching for an opening. "Motherfucker," Zack growled. "You've met your match this time ... it's about time you learned to submit. You know you can't beat me, asshole."

"Oh yeah?" Randy snarled. "No way that's gonna happen, pal. Tell you what ... you beat me and you get to fuck my boy, OK?"

"You're on, man. That's the stakes, then ... winner takes the ass of the loser's boy."

Darius and Pablo stared at each other in shock. "That's us," they said in unison. They had pulled the dinghy up on the edge of the beach and were watching the men circle each other like bulls in heat. "Wow," Darius said, "feel sorry for you, dude, when Zack wins and you get to feel that huge piece of meat up your ass."

"You're full of shit, dude. Nobody ever tops Randy, you know that."

They turned to watch the fight from a safe distance, and Darius of course had his camera to his eye. It was hard for him to keep it steady, though, as the two muscle gods circled each other. The men had taken off their wet shorts and their naked bodies gleamed with sweat and sea-water, the one black as ebony, and the other with the hard, sinewy body of a gypsy.

They finally came together in a typical wrestler's opening move, one hand clamped on the side of the other's neck, the other on his shoulder. Locked together they pushed and strained, and it was Randy who broke the stalemate. He curled his leg round Zack's, yanked it hard and sent Zack sprawling on his back. He fell on him in a second, grabbing his neck in a strangle hold and pounding his head down on the sand again and again.

Zack grabbed Randy's wrists, pulling desperately to pry his hands apart. But Randy's grip was like steel and Zack was soon feeling dazed and weakened. Instinctively he let go of the wrists and, mustering all his strength, smashed his fist upward against Randy's stomach. The move winded Randy enough to make him loosen his grip, giving Zack the chance to roll away and stagger to his feet.

The blow to Randy's steely abs had not weakened him, but Zack was still shaking his head, reeling from the beating it had taken. Through blurred vision Zack saw Randy's triumphant grin and he launched himself forward. But he was still off balance and Randy stepped to the side, grabbed Zack's arm, stooped, and put his shoulder under him, heaving him high up and stretching his body tight behind his neck. The black body was sprawled helplessly on its back across Randy's shoulders, with one of Randy's upstretched arms over his legs and the other across his neck in a perfect backbreaker hold. Randy began to spin round, yelling, "That's it, man, you're finished. Submit, asshole."

But Zack refused to give in. Lying locked across Randy's shoulders he felt himself spinning round in a helpless blur, knowing he could not escape. His back felt it was breaking and in a few more seconds Randy would have won, but he was frustrated by Zack's refusal to submit. He lifted the body high in the air, held it up in triumph, then launched it across the beach. The magnificent black body slammed down on its back on the sand and, as it spasmed, Zack momentarily blacked out.

Seconds later he came to and looked up in a daze to see the exultant bodybuilder looming over him. Zack was too weak and stunned to react, even when he realized what was coming. Randy dropped to his knees, grabbed Zack's ankles and pushed them high in the air. "You're gonna wish you'd given up, man," Randy growled. "This is gonna be much worse."

Randy looked down, spat on Zack's ass and in one swift, agonizing move, plunged his iron-hard dick deep inside the beaten man. Zack's scream echoed round the small cove and his face and body jerked and spasmed with the pain that speared through him. This was Randy's ultimate weapon; his notorious fuck was more brutal than any other pain he could deliver. The big black muscle-god was the ultimate top man, powerful, dominant, but now he was helplessly impaled on the huge, merciless cock of the man who had thrashed him.

Randy became a machine, his cock a piston as it rammed into Zack's ravaged ass. He fell forward and pinned Zack's wrists to the ground, and in his weakened state Zack knew he could do nothing but endure the vicious onslaught of Randy's cock. The pain was making him delirious. He knew he could not survive this. There was only one way to stop it, and he heard himself shouting, "OK, I submit. I can't take any more ... I submit!"

Minutes later the two men were lying on their backs side-by-side on the sand. Both were gazing up at the sky, but there the similarity ended. Randy was basking in the complacency and arrogance of victory. He had beaten Zack and now, the ultimate humiliation, Darius's ass would be his. But the same realization gripped Zack with a fury that was making his blood run hot. Beaten? Never ... he would never let his boy see him beaten.

Having regained his scattered wits, and fueled by the adrenaline of rage, he suddenly leapt to his feet with revenge blazing in his eyes. "Mother-fucker!" Randy looked up in surprise but his complacency made him sluggish ... too slow to avoid Zack's next move. Zack leaned down, curled his leg round Randy's, then picked up Randy's other foot and fell back on the ground, twisting Randy's legs like a pretzel in a vicious figure-four leg lock. Trapped, Randy's upper body twisted, his arms thrashed and he screamed as he tried to escape.

"Your turn now, asshole," Zack yelled. "Let me hear your scream, man."

Randy's back rose up repeatedly, but fell back helplessly each time as pain tore through his legs. It went on interminably and Randy was close to submission when Zack suddenly disengaged. Stunned, Randy turned over onto his stomach and tried to crawl away, but the searing pain had weakened him.

Zack dropped to his knees astride him, grabbed his wrists and pulled his arms behind his back. He pushed them up toward his neck, so his arms were bent upward behind him in a brutal hammerlock. Both men knew that this was a submission hold if you locked it in right, and both men knew that Zack had locked it perfectly. He stood and heaved Randy up to a kneeling position, all the time applying upward pressure on his arms, bent behind his back.

Crouched at a distance the boys gasped at the magnificent sight. The black bodybuilder loomed over Randy, pulling his arms up behind him with excruciating pressure. On his knees the handsome muscle-stud howled with pain, his abs, chest and shoulders bulging in a helpless display of tortured beauty. As searing pain shot through his arms and shoulders the rugged gypsy face contorted in agony, tousled black hair flying, tears running down to his stubbled chin.

"Come on, man," Zack yelled. "I can rip your arms off like this. You've gotta submit. Give up, man." For emphasis, he yanked the arms viciously higher and Randy knew he was finished. The pain was unendurable and he screamed, "OK, OK ... I submit."

Releasing him Zack threw him contemptuously forward and he fell on his face in the sand. With pain now racking his entire body from the two submission holds, his legs and now his shoulders, Randy began to crawl painfully on his stomach, trying hopelessly to get away from Zack. The tall black stud gazed down at him with a scornful smile. "Oh, no, man. You're not going anywhere. I've not done with you. You lost ... and now I'm gonna hear you beg."

Dazed as he was, Randy knew what was coming. Zack looked down and grinned "Wow, will you look at that ass? Now that's an ass that's not used to a cock inside it, especially a big black club." His gaze moved up over the muscular expanse of the superb V-shaped back. "And that's the gorgeous body of a man who's always on top, never gets beaten, never submits. Until now!"

Pushing the small of Randy's back down even harder into the sand Zack moved his hips forward and took pleasure in hearing Randy scream as the huge black rod entered him and buried itself deep in his gut. Randy was not the only man who knew how to use his cock as a weapon. Anger still coursed through Zack's body, pulsed through his veins and through his cock. He pulled it back and speared Randy's ass again ... and again and again.

His ebony muscles gleamed and flexed as he poured every ounce of his strength into the torture of the bodybuilder's ass. Once again the cove rang with screams, Randy's this time as he tried desperately to steel himself against the agony in his ass and flashing through his entire body. His arms stretched forward and he clawed the sand in a hopeless attempt to crawl forward. "No use, man," Zack yelled in triumph, "you can't get away. Give up. You know you have to. I can plough your ass forever and you know you can't take it. The longer you hold out the worse it is. I've broken you, man, and I wanna hear you submit again to your black master."

The pain in Randy was reaching a crescendo and he knew he had no choice. He gritted his teeth and endured the agony till the last moment, but finally screamed, "OK ... I submit. I give up. Stop, man, I can't take any more."

"What," Zack said, "is that all you got, man? Come on, asshole, you can do better than that. Let me hear you beg."

The shattered muscle-god would say anything now to make the pain stop. "Aaah, my ass! OK, man, I'm begging you. Please stop the pain ... please, man, I can't take any more. You've beaten me, man, broken me. Please, sir. You win ... I submit, sir." There was a moment's stillness, then he screamed one last time as the cock jerked out suddenly in a final flash of searing pain. Zack stood up and glared down at the shuddering body.

"Good," he said. "Now we're even.

At last Darius lowered his camera. Both boys were nervous now and Pablo said, "What now? This doesn't look good, dude."

The men were in the ocean, washing off the sand and sweat, soothing their battered muscles in the cool water. But this was not a friendly swim. "Now we're even," Zack had said, and that was the problem. Sure, they had vented their roiling anger in tumultuous physical combat until their bodies were sated, but still their minds seethed with the remnants of their rivalry. Nothing had been decided. They were even, they had both won, and they both intended to claim their prize.

Grimly they walked out of the surf and up the beach. For the first time they looked at the boys and Randy ordered, "Get over here, on your backs, head to head." Pablo and Darius saw the steely, determined look in both their masters and hurried to obey. They lay on their backs, not side-by-side but head-to-head as ordered, their faces inverted beside each other. Briefly they turned their heads sideways and looked into each other's anxious eyes.

Randy dropped to his knees at Darius's feet and Zack knelt at Pablo's. The men stared defiantly at each other, grabbed the ankles before them and pushed the legs high. They eased forward and were so engrossed in each other's challenging gaze that they were almost unaware of the boy's cries of pain as they plunged their cocks inside them.

This was not about the boys. They were being ignored as Randy and Zack pitted their strength against each other in one last deciding contest. It was as if they were fucking each other, completing the punishment they had broken off earlier. And so, staring at each other, daring each other, they fucked ... hard ... defiantly. The more they could hurt the other's boy the more complete was their revenge for having been beaten and humiliated.

The boys were frightened now as they entered an unfamiliar world. This was not their master's fuck that they had so often experienced ... and enjoyed. This was not their master. It was his opponent, intent on hurting his rival's boy to prove his dominance. Again they turned to look at their friend as the full realization of their predicament hit them. They gained strength from each other's eyes ... and they needed it. They heard the men taunting each other.

"Think your cock can be brutal, asshole?" Zack said. "Well feel this," and he rammed his cock deep inside Pablo."

Randy sneered, "That all you got, man? Now this is what I call a real fuck." Darius yelled as he felt the full impact of Randy's steel rod piercing him.

The tempo and fury accelerated as the men increased the pressure, their pistons ramming into the young asses beneath them. They were carried away by their lust for revenge, their fury and ferocity consuming them. Their eyes blazed at each other, they were becoming lost in an insane world of unthinking combat. But not quite lost ... even in the fog of intense passion they heard, as if in the distance, the anguished howls of young voices.

Their eyes faltered and simultaneously each man looked down at the suffering young face beneath him, eyes streaming with tears. Suddenly reality hit Zack and Randy like a hammer. They shook their heads and reentered the world of sanity. What the fuck were they doing? These were boys, their boys, innocent, hostile to no one. The men's anger toward each other had consumed them, warped them, to the point that they were taking revenge on their boys.

"Oh my god," Randy gasped, gazing down at Darius. "What have I done? I hurt you, boy. Your ass, your beautiful ass. Oh man, forgive me, Darius... let me put this right." He was transformed from an agent of revenge to a soothing, loving master. His cock now moved slowly, tenderly, massaging the inflamed membrane of Darius's plundered ass.

The same realization transformed Zack. "Pablo ... Pablo I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry. I must be insane."

"It's OK, sir," said Pablo weakly. "Please, sir, would you fuck me as if you love me?"

And so, after having been fucked savagely, the boys now felt the most gentle, soothing love-making they could remember. They watched the men above them, men who had so recently behaved like maddened bulls, fighting, fucking in anger and revenge, now rising and falling gently over them with the simple desire of making love.

Randy and Zack looked at each other with a rueful smile, and in that brief moment peace was restored. It had taken their boys to bring them to their senses, and now that old hippie saying had at last been turned right-side-up ... they were making love, not war.

The end was as loving as the beginning had been cruel. As the boys felt warm juice pouring inside them all their pain dissolved in the soothing balm bathing their wounded bodies. They looked up at the handsome faces smiling down at them as their own youthful orgasms erupted in a joyful display of love and forgiveness.

They changed partners. Randy folded Pablo in his arms and Zack hugged Darius tight. No words were uttered or needed as the boys felt themselves embraced by the strong, protective arms of their masters. The fight had been an aberration, and they all knew it. Randy and Zack had gone through another rite of passage (inevitable if they stopped to think about it) and the serenity that now followed was like the sun emerging from the clouds after a storm. They all rose slowly to their feet and Randy took a step back and addressed them.

"OK, guys, just one last short speech from me. Now this is something you don't hear every day of the week ... almost never, in fact. I apologize.' I've been an asshole, arrogant and overbearing. Zack, I love and respect you and I've treated you like shit. Pablo, Darius, you got dragged into this and we punished you instead of ourselves. I'm sorry ... and from now on there's gonna be no more captain of the ship' bullshit ... just four guys out to have a great week together. OK?"

Zack reached forward and they shook hands warmly. Then Zack turned to the boys. "Guys, why don't you take the dinghy back to the boat and break out the fishing gear? Randy and I need a few minutes to mend a few fences between us. Then we'll swim back and join you."

As Pablo rowed the dinghy back out to the boat, he and Darius saw the two beautiful men embracing on the beach. "How's your ass feeling, dude?" Darius asked.

"Awesome," Pablo grinned. "That man of yours sure knows how to fuck. Guess everything worked out for the best, eh dude?"

"Yeah," Darius agreed, "except for one thing." He stroked his camera lovingly. "I wish to hell I'd have got that apology on video. Now that would have been one for the record books."

Far from the turbulent waters off Catalina the atmosphere back at the house was one of peace and serenity. Bob, Mark and the twins were in a kind of dream-world where time slipped sideways and one day blended imperceptibly into the next. One afternoon Mark was lying on a chaise by the pool. Bob was due back from work shortly, and the twins were busy in the kitchen, so Mark was alone, his thoughts meandering luxuriously.

But he was thinking not of the guys on the boat, nor of the twins or even Bob. As so often happened he was picturing his beautiful boy Jamie, wondering what he was up to, hoping he was enjoying his far-off vacation with Nate. He knew what time it was in Sydney (17 hours ahead) and he concocted images of where his boy was and what he was doing.

It must have been telepathy ... when two people are so much in love it sometimes works like that. Mark's cell phone rang. He answered and his face lit up. "Hey there, kiddo, I was just thinking about you."

"I had a feeling you might be, sir. How are you doing with Bob and the twins?"

"Terrific. But what's more important is you and your trip with Nate. What you up to, kid?"

"Oh, sir, it's awesome. We're having a great time. Adam's been taking us all over Sydney and I love it. Adam's the QANTAS flight attendant I told you about that we met on the plane. He's been really kind, and tomorrow he's taking us and our surfboards up to the Great Barrier Reef."

A note of uncertainty crept into Mark's voice. "Yeah well ... are you sure about this guy ... this Adam? You're young, kid, and guys often want something in return for their kindness ... especially from a hot young stud like you."

"No problem there, sir, we worked all that out. Adam told us right off he was attracted to us and would like to have sex with us, but I told him I was in love with the most gorgeous man in the world back in L.A. and the only guys I have sex with are you and now Nate sometimes. He understood perfectly. Now Nate's different ... he's freer, kind of ... so he checked with me and I said go for it, so he had sex with Adam this afternoon."

Mark frowned, "And you're OK with that, Jamie?"

"Oh yes, sir. I mean Nate and I are best friends ... fuck buddies too ... but he's free to do whatever he likes. I figured it's a bit like Bob and Randy. I mean, I'm sure you and Bob are having lots of sex, and probably Randy is fucking with Zack, but when Randy comes back he and Bob will still be lovers. And look at Pablo ... his lover is Darius but he gets fucked by Randy. Not to mention Steve and Lloyd, when they ..."

Mark was laughing, "Hey, hey, kiddo, enough. OK, I got the picture. But how about you?"

There was a pause. "Well, sir, that's one reason I called." Another pause. "See, I miss you like crazy, sir. I think of you all the time ... even dream about you ... and I jerk off a lot thinking about you fucking me. Like, right now, sir, Nate's gone out grocery shopping and I'm lying on the bed naked, holding my cock, and ...

"... and I'm lying by the pool in just my boxers and ... hell I've got a huge bulge in them just hearing your voice... here let me grab that." He pulled out his dick and sighed. "So here I am, as I often am, stroking my cock thinking of my beautiful boy. Like when I come home from work, hot and horny in my uniform and ..."

"... and you order me to take it off you, sir. I take your shirt off and get hard looking at your gorgeous body. Then I take your boots off and feel your foot pushing against my naked ass. Then I lie on the bed waiting for you sir, waiting to get my ass fucked by the most beautiful cop in the world ..."

"... and the cop gazes down at that spectacular ass, the perfect white globes, the tan line, and that fuzz of soft blond hair round the hole. Oh man, I can't wait to push my cock inside it, boy. And when I do! ... aaah, the warmth, the softness ... I have to stop myself from cumming right there, because I want to fuck you, Jamie, fuck your sweet ass for a long, long time ... You feel it, Jamie? You feel the cop's big shaft sliding into your ass?"

"Yes, sir ... it feels sooo good, my master's huge rod inside me, going deep into that private place only you know, then pulling out and sliding in my ass again. And I look up at your gorgeous face and it's smiling, smiling because you love me ..."

"... and you see the gorgeous body of that naked muscle-god rising and falling over you, his muscles flexing as he pushes into your ass. You see that, Jamie?"

"Oh yes, sir. It looks awesome, sir, and your cock feels so good in my ass while I beat my meat ..."

"... and I fuck you for a long, long time, Jamie, until we both know it's time. I tell you I'm close and I order you to cum, and you obey. Oh man, I love to watch you shoot all over that beautiful, golden body. Come on, Jamie, cum for me. I'm so hot, real close, I can't hold back any more, kiddo, I'm gonna explode inside you ... here it comes, boy ... aaah!"

"My heart's beating so fast, sir. That gorgeous cop is shooting his huge load in my ass because he loves me ... and I'm his boy ... I love you, sir ... aaaah!"

And on opposite sides of the world there were two spectacular orgasms from two spectacular men, one a muscular Greek god, and the other his golden, blond surfer. For a long time there was just heavy breathing on the phone. Then came Jamie's voice. "Sir, when I'm missing you a lot, which I do all the time, is it OK if I ... well ..."

"Jamie, you call me as often as you like. In fact I'm ordering you to. Is that clear, boy?"

Mark could hear the smile in Jamie's voice. "Yes sir. Loud and clear. Thank you, sir. Oh, I think Nate's just come in with the groceries. Gotta go. I love you sir ..."

Just as Mark shut off his phone Bob came home from work. He walked over to Mark and smiled as he looked down at the gleaming body smothered in cum.

"The twins?"

"No ... Jamie. On the phone from Sydney." They both laughed and Bob said, "Here, let me get my clothes off and we'll go lie on the lawn by the wall. There's still some sun over there." A few minutes later they were side by side, soaking up the remains of the sun. At first they were unaware that just above them, behind the kitchen window, the twins were still preparing dinner. But soon they heard them talking.

Unlike the painful experience Pablo and Darius had gone through, the twins were experiencing total harmony. Now that Bob had cleared away any doubts they had about his relationship with Randy they understood that this week with Bob and Mark was like a vacation ... new rules, new family ... just for the week. And the twins were being treated as members of that family with absolute kindness.

Maybe too much kindness ... when Bob was with Randy there was more authority in the air, and the twins loved authority. It was one of their joys to show their devotion to the master by serving him, waiting on him, obeying instructions. In short, they loved being boys, subservient to their glorious master.

"I mean," said Kevin, "it's all very nice to lounge around with Bob and Mark, but ..." "Yeah," Kyle agreed, completing his thought. "Most guys would pay good money to trade places with us, but..."

The mention of payment struck a note in Kevin's mind. "Hmm, remember when we first came here? After we tried to steal Bob's car he forgave us and agreed to take us in as houseboys, and we'd get paid for our work. We had to be real careful to follow orders and serve his every need, remember?"

"Yeah," Kyle said dreamily. "That was great, standing there waiting for the next order from him, doing what we could to please him. It was so cool. I mean, it was almost like we were boys-for-hire. Still, that was in the past. Now he loves us and we're his boys, so he doesn't order us around like he used to. Not any more ... those days are gone."

"Maybe not," Bob murmured quietly below the window. Mark looked over and grinned at Bob.

"I see that mind of yours ticking over, buddy. I think I can read your thoughts and I like what I'm reading."

"Yeah," said Bob. "Maybe it's time for the twins to take another spin on the fantasy wheel."

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" ... Chapter 127