A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 175 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER:

Frightened by Mark and Jamie's looming break-up, Ben seeks solace in rough sex with Randy. He pleads, "Do it harder, sir. Hurt me ... make me forget." Mark cannot bring himself to forgive Jamie. "His mind was made up. Jamie would have to go." Jamie writes a letter: "I will miss you terribly, sir, and I hope that sometimes you will think of me and the good times we had. So goodbye, sir. I love you. I always have ..."

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - Chapter 175 – "The Break-Up of Mark and Jamie?"

Thanks to Bob, Mark was calming down, starting to think straight again, but the enormous hurt was still there. He looked plaintively at Bob. "Hell, I may be thinking straight but I still keep flashing on the sight of Jamie, stoned out of his mind with that moron's dick up his ass. I'll never get over that, man ... I'll never be able to forgive him ... never again think of him as my boy. Him and me ... we're done for."

The sight that haunted Mark was the one that had greeted him and Nate at the beach. Jamie had not returned home from a day's surfing and Nate had taken Mark in search of him. He led Mark to a beach Nate no longer went to with Jamie, as the surfers there were "a bunch of stoners." They had found Jamie in a secluded patch of beach sheltered by rocks.

Jamie was asleep on his side. Nestled behind him was the leader of the surfer group, Troy, a tall, skanky-looking dirty blond, with a swimmer's body, older than the other guys. They were both naked, both asleep, but what rooted Mark and Nate to the spot was that Troy's dick was buried in Jamie's ass.

Mark had taken a deep breath to steady himself and keep control. He looked down at one of the surfboards, its surface spread with drug paraphernalia – a bong, a baggie full of grass, razor blades, rolled-up dollar bills and lines of white powder spread out on the board. Silently Mark bent down, pressed his finger into the powder and rubbed it on the tip of his tongue.

He looked at Nate and said softly, "Meth ... crystal meth."

Mark had yanked Jamie out of there and driven him home but the drugs had transformed his golden boy into someone he didn't recognize. Feeling the full sexual impact of the meth, Jamie was rambling ... "You wanna suck, my dick, sir? ... I feel so horny ... you wanna fuck my ass?"

At home Mark had disgustedly pulled Jamie down to the basement room and savagely spanked his naked ass. He could have injured him seriously had it not been for the intervention of Bob. Bob had taken charge, told the twins to watch over Jamie, and guided a stunned Mark up to his and Randy's room where the only force strong enough to calm him down was sex.

Mark had fucked Bob as if he were taking revenge on Jamie, a catharsis that helped purge him of his shock, pain and desperation. But despite Bob's efforts to console him, Mark saw only a bleak future, one that did not include Jamie. "I hear what you're saying, buddy, but after what Jamie's done ... I dunno, man. He's just not my boy anymore."

Mark was exhausted – physically and emotionally. "You're gonna crash here tonight, Mark," Bob said decisively. Mark started to protest but Bob was adamant. "You won't be able to sleep in the bed you share with Jamie, and he's in the basement in a deep sleep by now I'm sure. I'll check with the twins – they're taking care of him."

All the fight was gone from Mark and, still naked after the sex, he lay back on the bed and let Bob pull the covers over him. His mind shut down as a sort of defense mechanism and in a few minutes he was asleep. Bob pulled on his shorts and went downstairs where he found Randy and Zack sitting at the table over drinks, discussing the events that by now were known by everyone. Bob phoned down to the twins who confirmed that Jamie was indeed sound asleep. Then he joined the two men and poured himself a stiff drink.

He sensed thunderclouds over Randy, and as Bob sat down the storm erupted. "When that damn fool kid wakes up I'm gonna go down there and show him what I think about drugs. He may be Mark's boy but he brought drugs into the house and that affects all of us ... it could spread to the other boys. He needs a damn good whipping and if Mark won't do it, I will."

Bob looked at Zack and rolled his eyes. He said calmly, "First of all, Randy, Jamie did not bring drugs into the house. He used them on the beach. And second of all, as you said, Jamie is Mark's boy and, according to your own rule, a master takes responsibility for his boy with no interference by others. Our job is to be supportive of our buddies who are hurting." He looked pointedly at Randy "We certainly don't need anyone fanning the flames."

That last jab struck a nerve in Randy. He calmed down and even managed a grin. "Shit, man, what is this, Randy control?" He winked at Zack. "OK, Bob, you're the boss ... what next?"

"Well, the first thing is ... a confession. Mark was in a hell of a state when he got home so I took him to our room and calmed him down and ..."

"And that included sex, I suppose," Randy said, with a hint of anger in his voice. Then his face relaxed. "You know, it wasn't so long ago I'd have beat the shit out of you for that. But I guess you've changed me, buddy." He grinned. "Just don't push your luck, man."

Bob shifted uncomfortably. "Well actually that's just what I am gonna do – push my luck – `cause I need a big favor. Mark is asleep in our bed and he shouldn't be alone so I was wondering if I could stay with him tonight and... I mean, if you could ..."

"Shit damn, you're sleeping with Mark and kicking me out of my own room?"

Bob blushed. "No, I ... well, I guess I ... I thought that ... Sorry, Randy ... bad idea."

Randy chuckled. "Hey, no sweat, buddy. I was just hanging you out to dry there a bit. Actually I'm way ahead of you. Listen, guys, this Jamie thing has knocked everyone off balance, especially the boys. They're all gathered in Pablo and Darius's room right now like it's the end of the world. In a way it is – their world anyway. You know how when one of them's in trouble they circle the wagons and protect him. Jamie was always a favorite and now chances are Mark's gonna throw him out. They're adrift and they need our help.

"They're a great bunch of guys," Randy continued. "Tonight Nate will have Adam, of course, Pablo and Darius will have each other, Eddie is going up to Hassan's and the twins are together downstairs keeping watch on Jamie. That leaves my brother Ben ... and he'll have me. I'm gonna sleep with him. He's new here but he likes Jamie a lot and now he'll be feeling lost and confused. His own sense of security has taken a hit now that he's seen how a relationship as rock solid as Jamie's can be busted apart in an instant. I don't want Ben to be alone tonight."

He pulled Bob to him and kissed him on the mouth. "I love the hell out of you man. And while I'm taking care of Ben, you take good care of the cop. But tomorrow you're mine again ... and I think you know what that means, big guy."

He got up and went into the house. Zack raised his eyebrows. "Whew, he said you'd changed him ... but tamed him would be more like it. I've never heard him talk about the boys with such feeling ... never knew the big, tough boss had such a soft center inside him."

Bob smiled. "He always had it in him, Zack. I just had to dig pretty deep to find it. OK, now tomorrow we're just gonna have to take our lead from Mark – see what he wants to do with Jamie. I hope to god he doesn't send him away, though right now that's his intention, I think. In the meantime the best thing we can all do is maintain our usual routine. Hard work is what the boys need so don't go easy on them, buddy, just because they're feeling off balance."

Zack nodded in agreement, then smiled. "`Course that won't be too hard with Randy cracking the whip. He can be tough as nails. Maybe, as you say, he has his tender side, but it sure don't show on the construction site, I can tell you that."

But right now Randy was feeling anything but tough as he climbed the stairs to Ben's room. He knocked softy and went in to find Ben sitting on the edge of the bed hugging his knees, his head bowed in grief and confusion. He looked up and his face brightened when he saw his big brother. Impulsively he stood up, ran to him and flung his arms round him, burying his head in Randy's shoulder. "I'm so glad you're here, sir. Pablo and Darius are just next door but I was feeling so ... I dunno ... I'm supposed to be tough, I know, but ..."

"Hey, hey, I'm here now, little brother – and I'm gonna stay the night with you."

"You are, sir?" A big smile lit his face and everything suddenly seemed alright now that he'd have Randy. Randy pulled him to the bed and they sat down next to each other. "Sir," said Ben wide-eyed with apprehension. "What's gonna happen to Jamie? Will he be sent away?"

"That's for Mark to decide," Randy said gently. "He's in a towering rage right now and I can't say I blame him. He thinks Jamie doesn't deserve to be his boy anymore, so it's in the cards he might throw him out. You and the boys have to face up to that. What he did ... the drugs, letting himself get fucked ... it don't get much worse than that, you know."

There was a long, gloomy silence, then Randy looked straight into Ben's eyes. "Tell me something, kid. All those years I didn't hear from you. Did you ever get into drugs?"

"No, sir, I swear it, after all you taught us boys. Oh, lots of guys wanted me to, and the closest I came was when I was living with that guy I told you about and he got pretty heavy into crystal meth. He kept telling me how great sex was on crystal and he became real insistent. So that's when I ran away, sir, and came looking for you."

"That's my boy," said Randy, hugging him. Another silence, then Ben's voice took on a note of alarm. "Sir, if I ever did anything bad like Jamie did, would you send me away?"

Randy smiled at him. "My little brother, who walked all the way from Texas looking for me? Not on your life. Anyway, I know you'd never do anything like that, eh kiddo?"

"I'll do my best not to, sir." Then a mischievous grin like Pablo's crossed his face. "But you know what they say, sir. `Boys will be boys'."

Randy looked at him sharply, but there was a twinkle in his eye. "You little punk. I can see you need a lesson in obedience right now. Get naked, boy."

Ben sprang to his feet and stood before Randy as he sat on the bed. What Randy had hoped for was happening. He wanted Ben to be so focused on him that he would not be obsessing on the Jamie problem for a while. And for Ben the opportunity to turn Randy on was too good to pass up so he started to strip slowly. First he unbuttoned his shorts, pausing after each button. When his fly was fully open, he pushed slowly on his waistband until the shorts cleared his hips and dropped, pooling round his ankles.

He was wearing a white tank stretched over the contours of his chest, and white boxer briefs that clung tightly to his hips and strained over the bulge of his already-hard cock. The white contrasted with his tanned skin and his dark gypsy features. He looked stunning. "Oh man," Randy sighed, "that is so fucking beautiful." He reached forward and ran his hands down the sides of Ben's briefs , then up under his tank, over his hard stomach and up to his pecs where he squeezed the boy's nipples, making him inhale sharply.

Randy pulled back and simply gazed at the boy. Ben knew the effect he was having and he worked it, wanting to rouse the lust of the big brother he worshipped. He raised his hands to his hips and eased them inside the waistband of his briefs. Slowly he pushed the briefs down, over his hips, over his cock that sprang out like a pole, then down his thighs until they dropped to the floor, on top of his shorts round his ankles.

Randy stared at the long thick cock, a junior version of his own and hard as a rock. "Shit," he grinned, "I guess you are pleased to see me, kiddo." Instinctively Randy leaned forward and licked the head of his brother's cock, savoring the taste of the pre-cum oozing from it. Then he pushed his mouth over the head and took the whole length of the hard rod deep into his throat, hearing a loud sigh from the excited boy.

Randy knew his sexual power and he pulled back, paused, then swallowed the cock again. He heard Ben gasp, "Sir, I ... you're making me ..." Ben was looking down at the dark, rugged face, the chiseled features, long black hair, the stubbled jaw clamped round his cock. His big brother, the boss, the gypsy king was sucking his cock. It looked, felt, incredible and ... "Aaagh!" Ben's cock shuddered and erupted in Randy's mouth, pouring with hot semen that Randy gulped down voraciously.

Randy pulled back and grinned up at his startled boy, cum still oozing from his mouth and down his chin. "I knew I could make you do that, boy. Damn you're good. But, we're not finished, little brother. Show me more."

Ben recovered quickly from his orgasm and his cock now swung languidly between his legs. He grinned at Randy, then turned round, displaying his ass, the mounds curving just below the bottom of his tank top. He clenched his ass muscles several times, showing the dimples in the twin globes, then bent forward reaching down to the floor to unlace his sneakers. The sight of the boy clad in just a tank top, his shorts and briefs round his ankles, his perfect ass pointing up only inches from Randy's face drove him crazy.

Randy reached forward again and grabbed Ben's hips, pulling them toward him, then burying his face in the black fuzz of curly hair round his ass. He licked the moist hole, then pushed his tongue inside savoring the musky taste of the soft membrane. Ben moaned in ecstasy as he felt the stubbled chin chafing his ass, until Randy suddenly pulled back. Ben kicked off his sneakers, stepped out of his shorts and turned round, naked except for his white tank top.

He stood there with an impish grin on his dark gypsy face, his lithe young muscles rippling under the bedroom lights, his cock already rock hard again. Randy stood up and faced him. "Man, I've had enough of this." His clasped his hands round Ben's waist, picked him up bodily and tossed him onto the bed. Ben's body bounced as he landed heavily on his back. Still grinning, Ben put his hands behind his knees and pulled his legs back, exposing his hole, still wet with Randy's saliva.

"Jesus Christ, boy, I wanna fuck that ass," Randy growled as he frantically pulled off his T-shirt, kicked off his boots and dropped his jeans. Ben gasped as he saw his big brother, the swarthy muscle-god towering naked over him. His huge cock had sprung free but Randy didn't touch it. He knelt on the bed put his hands on Ben's knees, eased his hips forward and in one swift move buried his cock in the moist ass, pushing it deeper and deeper until it came to rest hard against the inner sphincter. One last thrust took the head over the tender membrane where it filled the innermost chamber of the boy's ass.

Ben's body bucked with the assault of the huge rod and he moaned, "Thank you, sir. You feel ... aaah ... fuck my ass, sir. Please fuck my ass ... please ..."

"You bet I will, kiddo." Randy began gently at first, easing his huge pole back up the warm chute, pulling out so the head rested against his hole. He paused, then drove his cock back deep inside. Ben's eyes flew wide open and he gazed in awe at the spectacular muscular body rising and falling above him. The fuck was gentle at first but Randy could see a hunger in Ben's eyes. "Harder," Ben breathed huskily. "Do it harder ... please, sir."

Randy understood what Ben craved. He wanted it rough, wanted the physical pain of his brother's cock to overwhelm the emotional pain of his sadness about Jamie. Randy knew a man could feel only one pain at a time and he was happy to oblige. His left arm reached forward and he grabbed Ben's tank below his neck. Grasping it in his clenched fist he pulled it toward him, raising Ben's head and shoulders up off the bed. With the other hand Randy held Ben's ankle and pushed his leg back so he had a clear shot at his ass.

Surprised, Ben stared hungrily up at his brother, whose shoulder and bicep bulged as he held onto the tank, screwed up in his fist, and took the weight of Ben's torso. Randy's gypsy face was fierce, the steel blue eyes like lasers, and Ben had the sensation that he was completely at the mercy of his big brother. And of course he was.

"OK, kid, you want it rough? Here it comes." The gentle fuck quickly accelerated into a ferocious pounding. Sex with Randy was like sex with no other man. He became a wild man, eyes blazing, muscles rippling, his black hair flying over his dark, rugged face. As the steel rod pistoned inside him Ben gave himself up to the assault on his ass, innately confident that Randy knew the limits of his pain. Pain there was, of course, but that is exactly what he had asked for. It totally obliterated that other deep anguish he had been feeling.

His head and back were raised off the bed as he hung by his tank top from Randy's fist. His body jerked and his head tossed. He was lost in the incredible sensation of a real fuck by the master, the boss – his big brother. "Thank you, sir," he howled. "Hard, sir. Hurt me ... make me forget, sir."

Randy was pounding so hard, making Ben's body jerk backwards so violently, that they heard the sound of ripping cloth ... the tank top. As Randy yanked it in his fist the ripping became louder until the shirt suddenly disintegrated. With the sudden release Ben fell back on the bed, the torn shreds of fabric hanging from his shoulders. Still clutching the remains of the shirt in his fist Randy held his hand high with a whoop of triumph.

But the savage fuck continued, accelerated even, as Randy was inflamed by the sight of the young gypsy boy, naked now except for the fragments of his tank hanging from his shoulders and draped across his chest. Randy was on fire now. He threw both of Ben's legs over his shoulders and leaned forward, sweat dripping from his face onto Ben's. Still holding the wad of fabric, he stuffed it into Ben's mouth like a gag. Ben's eyes opened wide in alarm as tears poured down his cheeks.

Randy clamped his hands on Ben's pecs and Ben gasped into the gag as he felt the full weight of his big brother on top of him. Randy stared wildly down at him. "OK, kid ... you want pain? So here it comes ... and it's gonna make you cum. You're gonna bust your load, boy, because of the pain, just the pain. I taught Bob to do that and now it's your turn, little brother."

His fingers clamped onto Ben's nipples, twisting them, tugging them ferociously. Fire exploded in Ben's chest and he screamed into his gag. The cock hammered his ass so savagely he thought he would pass out, but even in his delirium of pain he knew the end was coming. Through his tears he saw the savage muscle-god's body convulse above him, heard his scream ... and felt his warm juice pouring deep into his ass.

But it wasn't that that made Ben cum. It was the pain ... the pain in his ass, in his tits – the exquisite pain that blotted out everything else. Tears poured from his eyes and he screamed into his gag as the pain drained into his cock and it exploded, blasting stream after stream of cum up onto his brother's chest heaving above him.

Randy pulled the cloth from Ben's mouth and for a long while the brothers gazed at each other as their heartbeats subsided. Almost imperceptibly Randy slid his cock out of Ben's ass, but Ben was still flying and impulsively he reached up, threw his arms round his big brother and pulled him down on top of him, squeezing him tight. Randy kissed him hard and licked the salt tears from his face.

Finally Randy tried to pull away but Ben held onto him frantically. "Don't let go, sir. Hold me ... please don't let me go."

Randy smiled at the pleading face and said. "I'll never let you go, little brother. Never."

And so the house fell into a fitful sleep, with couples embracing each other tightly, more conscious than ever of the blessing they held in their arms, in contrast to the anguish of Jamie and Mark.

Next morning it was Mark who woke before anyone else, and he was in the shower by the time Bob stirred and remembered that the cop had an early shift. He went quickly down to Mark's apartment and brought up a clean pair of Mark's uniform pants to replace the pair that was stained with semen where Jamie had cum, lying across Mark's lap getting his ass spanked.

When Mark came out of the shower with a towel wrapped round his waist Bob asked tentatively, "How you doing, buddy? Think you can cope with work today?" But Mark was in full cop mode now, far from the shattered wreck of the night before who had sought comfort in Bob's arms. "Sure I can," he said. "A cop knows he can never bring his personal problems to work ... could be dangerous."

Bob cleared his throat. "Er ... Are you going to speak to Jamie before you leave?"

"Nope," Mark said decisively. "Wouldn't know what to say ... couldn't even look him in the eye. Like I said, Bob, that boy and me ... we're finished. And I don't want any of the other boys having any contact with him – just the twins to bring him food. He leaves the basement only to come up and work in the office with you. He spends the rest of his time down there alone."

Bob sighed heavily just as there came a knock at the door and the twins walked in. "Sorry to interrupt, sir," Kyle said to Bob, avoiding eye contact with Mark. "But we thought we should let you know how things are." Kevin took over. "Like you said, sir, Jamie slept heavily all night. He's just now stirring so we thought we'd wake him up with a breakfast tray.

"Did you get plenty of sleep yourselves?" Bob asked.

"Oh yes, sir. We took it in shifts, one of us watching Jamie while the other slept."

Bob was startled. "You mean there was always one of you watching over him? That was going a bit far, surely."

"Oh no, sir," said Kevin. "We had to make sure he'd be OK if he woke up and needed us. See, he's our friend and we're not gonna stop loving him just because he did something bad."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Mark, and Bob shot a piercing look at him. But Mark got on with the business of dressing, when there was another knock at the door. "Jesus Christ," Mark muttered peevishly, "like the fucking San Diego Freeway in here." It was Nate who came through the door. He stood nervously, plucking up the courage to speak. "Sir," he said to Mark, then cleared his throat. "I wanted to ask your permission to go and see Jamie."

Mark glared at him. "No. I said no contact with anyone but the twins, and that's final."

Nate blushed red. His Aussie bluntness took over, and his accent grew thicker as he spoke. "Sir, I don't think that's fair, sir. Jamie's my best mate and right now he's all alone and hurting bad. With all due respect, sir, when you were sad last night you had your best mate to turn to. Whatever Jamie's done, I still love him and I want to go to him ... sir."

His voice died, his blush deepened and he realized he had gone way too far. Mark was shocked, clenched his fists and took a step forward. Bob put a restraining hand on his arm and Mark looked at him in anger and bewilderment. The twins' loyalty to Jamie and Nate's impassioned appeal had shaken Mark, and Bob could see he was lost and seeking support.

Bob smiled, shrugged his shoulders in a `why-not?' gesture and nodded to him. Mark growled, "I'm sick of all this bullshit. I gotta go." On his way out he huffed to Nate, "Do what you want, boy ... but only you. Nobody else." He strode through the door and slammed it behind him.

Nate relaxed and smiled at Bob. "Was that a yes, sir?"

Bob grinned and shrugged. "I guess it kinda was. Come on, let's go."

When Bob and Nate walked quietly into the basement bedroom Jamie was a forlorn sight, sitting on the edge of the bed in only his boxer shorts, hunched over, his eyes tight shut, hands pressed against his ears as if he were trying to blot out all sight and sound. So he was unaware that anyone was there until Bob cleared his throat loudly. Startled, Jamie's first thought was of Mark and he shot to his feet. His body relaxed slightly when he saw Bob and Nate, though his face was clearly streaked with tears.

He was such a pitiful sight that Nate ran forward and threw his arms round him in a tight, emotional embrace. Jamie started sobbing into his shoulder and stammered through his sobs, "Has Mark said anything? Has he ordered me to leave yet? Is that why you're here?"

Bob stepped forward, taking charge. He was in a delicate situation, longing to comfort Jamie but careful not to undermine Mark's authority. So he spoke sternly but gently. "Jamie, sit down. There are some questions I need to ask you." Jamie sat on the edge of the bed again, with Nate beside him and Bob pulled up a chair facing him. But before Bob could speak Jamie let loose a desperate rush of words.

"I know what you want to ask, sir ... why? I've been asking myself that and ... well ... see that guy, Troy, was the leader of the guys on that beach. He was a brilliant surfer and kind of took me under his wing ... taught me a whole lot. But he did a lot of drugs and always wanted me to join him. Well, I dunno, I guess I knew Mark would be late home `cause he was seeing Jason, so this time I ..." His body slumped. "I'm not making excuses, sir ... there is no excuse. Now I've fucked everything up and Mark hates my guts and he'll get rid of me ..."

"Jamie," Bob interrupted him sternly. "Pull yourself together and listen to me. And before you answer my questions I want to make clear that I will report everything back to Mark."

"I want you to, sir. I want him to know everything."

"OK, first question. Did you actually go out surfing while you were high on crystal?"

Jamie's voice dropped to a whisper. "Yes, sir. I know how stupid that was but..."

"And when you had sex with this ... Troy ... did he actually cum in your ass?"

"No, sir," Jamie said emphatically. "It's the first time I've done crystal ... never done any drug before ... and it makes you feel very sexy but somehow it makes it difficult to get hard and to shoot. He put his dick inside my ass but couldn't really do anything."

"Good, that's good, at least. OK, wait a minute." While Jamie and Nate sat silently close together Bob went across the room, punched a number in his cell phone and had a lengthy conversation inaudible to the boys. He finally came back, sat down and said, "OK, here's what's gonna happen. I've just spoken to Steve who has a buddy, a medical doctor whose office is on the same floor as his. He's gonna check you out, Jamie, and he'll pull strings with the lab and be able to get your lab results overnight. So Nate, I want you to take Jamie to the doc in an hour, then bring him straight back.

"After that, Jamie, I will want you to come upstairs to the office and do your work as usual. Except for that, Mark has ordered that you are not to leave this basement. You will have no visitors except Nate, with Mark's permission, and the twins, who will bring you food and generally make sure you're OK. Ah..." There was a tap at the door and the twins came in with a tray, loaded with a cooked breakfast. "Nate, you can stay with Jamie now while he eats and then take him to the doctor." He paused. "OK, that's all I have to say for now."

He got up to leave but Jamie touched his hand. "But sir ... is Mark ... he's gonna get rid of me isn't he?"

"I can't answer that, Jamie ... it's entirely up to Mark. But I won't lie to you. I've never seen Mark so angry and ... well, things don't look so good." Bob left with a heavy heart. He had not enjoyed doing and saying what he had. It went against his every instinct, which was to take Jamie in his arms and hold him tight.

After that things transpired pretty much as Bob had predicted. Nate took Jamie to the doctor who gave him a complete physical and said he would give the lab results to Steve the next day. When he got back home Jamie went straight to the office and tried to concentrate on his work, but found it almost impossible. Again Bob's heart went out to him as he glanced at the stricken boy trying so hard to work thought his misery.

The same struggle was being fought by Mark, astride his motorcycle, trying to focus on his work but unable to tear his mind away from the sight of Jamie, stoned on drugs giving his ass to that deadbeat. He made a half hearted attempt at finding excuses for the boy, but failed. There was no excuse. What Jamie had done was unpardonable. As a cop Mark was used to being respected and obeyed. But Jamie, his own boy, had insulted and betrayed him. Mark's pride had been fatally wounded and there could be no question of Jamie remaining as his boy. He had to go and that was that.

Mark's anger, rather than subsiding as the day wore on, actually increased until it consumed him. It led him to make a decision of a way to punish the boy before he sent him packing.

At the house, when the office-work was, mercifully, over Jamie would normally have run eagerly to his and Mark's apartment, got naked and waited on the bed for the uniformed cop to come in and fuck him. But now devastation had replaced euphoria and Jamie dragged himself down to the basement ... to wait.

He didn't have long. Soon he heard heavy footsteps on the stairs, the door was flung open and Mark stood there. They had not seen each other since Mark had dragged him home and now, despite himself, Mark's heart missed a beat as he saw his unhappy boy, his eyes wet with tears, full of fear and desolation. But Mark did not allow himself a moment of sympathy and barked, "Come with me." Jamie followed him blindly up the stairs and out to his truck.

They drove in silence. Jamie's mind was reeling and in his delirium he fancied that Mark was driving him to a remote place where he would throw him out and leave him, like some heartless owner might do with an unwanted pet dog. But the drive turned out to be short and they soon turned into the small parking lot of a nondescript building on Figueroa.

Jamie's fancies fled from his mind as he realized where they were – a tattoo parlor. It was the same place where, in a happier time, Mark had had the logo MM, for Mark Matsen, tattooed on Jamie's shoulder to reassure him that he was, now and forever, Mark's boy.

"Yeah," Mark said. "We're gonna have that taken off, boy. No longer applies."

Jamie was aghast, made no move for a second, then yanked open the door and raced blindly away. "Shit damn," Mark growled. He leaned over, pulled the door shut, then gunned the truck and took off after the boy. Fueled by panic Jamie was fast and it took a few minutes for Mark to catch him up. He swerved onto the sidewalk blocking Jamie who stood there wild-eyed, his heart pounding.

Through his heaving breaths Jamie gasped. "Please don't take it off, sir. Leave me with that ... please. It's all I'll have left when you throw me out."

From the truck Mark snarled, "Oh yeah? And what you gonna do with it? Look at it in the mirror and beat off thinking about me?"

"Yes, sir," said Jamie simply. The simple honesty of the statement pierced Mark like an arrow. He had a fleeting impression of Jamie in some lonely room looking tearfully at the tattoo and jerking off at the memory of their time together. And for the first time Mark's wall of anger cracked a little. Even his rage could not make him do something so cruel.

"Fuck you, boy. Get in the truck."

He got in and they drove home, where Jamie said softly, "Thank you, sir," and went straight down to the basement.

The next few days passed in a tense, stifling atmosphere as if the house were under the heavy black clouds of a thunderstorm that never broke. Meals were eaten on schedule but with no enthusiasm from anyone. The twins took trays of food down to Jamie and Nate was allowed to visit him for an hour each day. Jamie left the room only to work in the office but Bob could see he was only going through the motions.

Randy did what he could to rally the troops but it was an impossible task. Bob spent time with Mark, not trying to steer him off this punitive course, but just throwing in a word or two that he thought might help. He had relayed Jamie's little speech to him where he had insisted that he had never done drugs before that one time. "Looks like it was peer pressure that made him fall under the influence of that guy," Bob said, but Mark was unmoved.

"Also, Steve told me the doc got the lab results already and Jamie's clean, so that's good news." But Mark remained impassive, so Bob tried another tack. "Look, Mark, I know you've been deeply wounded, and are rightly angry, but just so long as you're not being driven by wounded pride – because your ego's been bruised. I know Jamie's behavior was inexcusable and I would never try to defend him." But that's just what Bob was about to do.

"Have you, er, ever considered that you've been spending a lot of time away from Jamie lately ... with me, with Jason? I know it's none of my business, but those times you've seen Jason ...like the day all this happened ... you had sex with him didn't you? And you don't think Jamie knew it – and was hurt? Maybe he felt what's good for the gander is good for the goose?"

Bob had deliberately gone too far and Mark blazed, "You're right, man, it's none of your damn business. I'm going to work." He slammed out of the room, but his burst of anger had just shown Bob that he had struck a nerve. `Score one for Jamie,' Bob grinned to himself.

In the next couple of days Mark's anger slowly began to morph into a lesser feeling ... resentment, sure ... and still the vestiges of wounded pride. The unbearable image of Jamie stoned on the beach began to blur, and Mark had been struck by Jamie's tearful plea to keep his tattoo, and later by Bob's words. But still Mark's bruised ego could not bring itself to forgive Jamie. He couldn't even imagine touching him, let alone sleeping with him, fucking him. No, he thought, Jamie's punishment would be banishment. Mark's mind was made up. There was no other way. Jamie would have to go.

In the several days after the crisis had erupted Jamie had been in a kind of purgatory, mostly alone in his room, avoided by Mark, knowing he would eventually be sent away, just waiting for the axe to fall. It was a purgatory that he could no longer endure.

That evening when Mark came home from work, he went straight up to see Bob, to announce that he was going to tell Jamie that evening that he would have to leave – he was no longer his boy. But Bob was waiting for him with two letters, one addressed to Bob, the other to Mark. "These letters are from Jamie," Bob said. "I've already read mine. Here's what it says:

"Dear, sir: This is to say goodbye, sir. I know my behavior can never be forgiven so I m going away before Mark sends me away. I can't go on living here knowing how much he hates me. I have caused too much trouble in the house and if I leave you can all get on with your lives. I enclose a check for part of the balance owing on my truck. That's all I have in savings but I'll send you more when I get a job. And I know I will get another job, sir, because you have trained me so well I now have a skill. Thank you for that, sir, and for all the love and kindness you have always shown me. I have loved working for you and I will never forget you, sir. I'm sorry to leave you but I have to. Please give my love to all the other guys, and tell them I'll miss them. But I think I'll miss you most of all. I love you, sir, very much. Goodbye, sir. Jamie"

Tears were welling in Bob's eyes as he folded the letter. "This one's for you, Mark."

But Mark couldn't take it. Choked up he said, "You read it, buddy ... please." Bob took out the letter and read it aloud:

"Sir, I am writing this to say goodbye. I know what I did was so bad that you can't love me anymore and I can't be your boy. So I am leaving to save you the pain of getting rid of me. You're right to send me away as I don't deserve to be the boy of an amazing man like you. I'm sure you will soon find another boy to replace me who will not disappoint you the way I have.

I just want you to know, sir, that living with you has been the most wonderful time of my life. I have never loved anyone the way I loved you and never will again. After what I did you may not believe this, but I worshipped you. I will miss you terribly, sir, and I hope that sometimes you will think of me and remember the good times we had. So goodbye, sir. I love you. I always have ... I love you ... I love you. Jamie.

P.S. Thank you for letting me keep the tattoo, sir. I'll treasure it always."

Tears were streaming down Mark's face and he looked desperately at Bob. "I've gotta find him, man."

"Yes you do," Bob said. "And I think I know how."

A few minutes later they were next door with Adam and Nate, and they lost no time. Nate had obviously been crying and Bob said gently, "Nate, I think you know Jamie has left and I think you may know where he went. If he told anyone where he was going, he would tell you, his best mate. We need to know where he is."

Nate shifted miserably from foot to foot. "But he made me promise I wouldn't tell." He looked at Adam for help. Seeing the distraught look on Mark's face Adam realized what had to be done. "You gotta tell them, mate." Still Nate hesitated and Adam pressed him. "Has it ever occurred to you that deep down Jamie wanted you to tell? You want him to be with Mark again, don't you?"

That did it. Nate handed a crumpled piece of paper to Mark. "He's gone to the motel where Randy and Bob first met, sir. It was the only place he knew of." Mark raced out the door.

It wasn't all that far away – on Hollywood Boulevard, the seedy end. The rundown motel and the notorious Room 14 where Randy and Bob had first met was the stuff of legend in the group. All the guys knew the story well and had driven past the place now and again... a grubby motel, sun-bleached walls, peeling paint, a single storey in a U-shape round the weed-strewn parking lot that Mark's truck now pulled into.

In Jamie's panic of leaving it was the only place he could think of to go. Besides it was his last fragile link to the family he had lived with and loved – and was now leaving forever. In a daze Jamie had instinctively asked for Room 14 ... where maybe faint, long-ago vibrations of Bob and Randy might still hang in the air.

Mark`s hunch was that's where Jamie would be, and as he came close he heard muffled sobbing coming from inside. He was about to knock, but hesitated. He took a deep breath, touched the door-handle, it turned and he went in quietly.

After the bright sunlight he blinked and let his eyes become accustomed to the dimness of the curtained room. Gradually he saw the crumpled heap on the bed. Jamie was face down on the pillow, wearing shorts and a loose tank top, his body heaving with sobs. Mark gasped, loud enough to alert Jamie who turned over, looked up through his tears and whimpered like a frightened animal. He pulled himself to his feet and stared at the uniformed cop, frightened that the mirage would go away, willing it to stay.

Then they moved, master and boy, stumbling toward each other, falling into each other's arms, tears running down their faces. Mark squeezed so hard that it hurt but Jamie didn't care. He didn't care about anything now that he was in his master's arms. Mark whispered in his ear, "Jamie, Jamie ... my boy. Forgive me, Jamie ... I've been a selfish fool, got lost in my wounded pride. Just when you needed my protection most I pushed you away. I love you, boy, of course I do. Never stopped ... how could I?"

His face pulled back and Jamie saw the unaccustomed sight of tears running down Mark's cheeks. Absurdly they began to lick each other's wet faces like lion cubs cleaning each other. Then their gaze really met and they saw themselves reflected in each others' eyes. His blue-gray eyes penetrating Jamie's, Mark said, "I love you, Jamie," and their lips met in a wildly passionate kiss, their mouths churning against each other endlessly, licking deep inside, biting tongues, until finally their open mouths clamped over each other's and they shared the air, one inhaling as the other exhaled, exchanging the same breath of life and love.

The rest was inevitable. Still kissing him Mark yanked open Jamie's shorts and let them drop. He stood back, pulled Jamie's tank off over his head, and pushed him backward, naked. Jamie fell heavily on the bed, bouncing on his back, and watched. Mark was taking his uniform off, as he had always done every time he came home from work, while his naked boy always watched, longing for what came next. Jamie saw the black shirt come off, then the T-shirt and gasped at the muscle-god cop stripped to the waist, chest heaving, muscles rippling in the dim light.

This is the image that had run though Jamie's mind again and again in his desolate loneliness of the last few days. But was it real, or just his imagination, his wishful thinking? Maybe he had fallen asleep and was dreaming. He actually pinched himself to make sure he was awake.

Jamie knew what to do. He jumped off the bed and turned his back on Mark who sat on the bed and raised his leg. He gazed at the gorgeous ass as Jamie straddled his boot. Mark pressed his other foot against the cheek of his ass and pushed until the boot slid off and Jamie jerked forward. Then the other boot, and they traded places, Jamie back on the bed his eyes shining.

Mark unbuckled his big leather belt, let his uniform pants and shorts drop and kicked them off. He stood naked, his cock rigid, gazing down at his golden boy. He murmured, "God, I've been such a damn fool. How could I ever have pretended I could live without you?" Then he smiled and said what he always said. "So what do you want boy?' And Jamie said, as he always said, "I want you to fuck me, sir. I want to feel your cock in my ass, sir."

"Wild horses couldn't drag me away," Mark said. Overwhelmed with lust for his boy he dropped to his knees between Jamie's legs, pushed them in the air and with one mighty thrust, drove his steel rod deep inside his boy's soft sweet ass. Their eyes met, their bodies shuddered, they howled – and both blasted loads of cum in massive twin orgasms – Mark's deep inside his boy's ass and Jamie's all over his master's bulging chest.

But they didn't stop. They had not made love for over a week and their pent up anguish and frustration erupted. It was as if the orgasms had not happened as Mark continued to fuck, his cock still hard as a rock, and Jamie kept squeezing his ass muscles, trying to trap the cock inside him forever.

Jamie was floating in a euphoric haze as he gazed up at the Greek-God features of the beautiful man he loved ... and had almost lost. He stared in wonder at his flexing muscles, the slabs of his pecs, bulging arms, wide shoulders, flared lats sloping down to ridged eight-pack abs, then to his tight waist and slim hips that moved rhythmically back and forth, pressing the blond pubic hair against the cheeks of his ass.

Mark was going wild, feeling the soft velvet membrane of his boy's ass making love to his cock. He leaned forward, pinned Jamie's wrists to the bed and gazed into his eyes. "God I love that ass, boy. I love you, I always have. Do you still love me, Jamie? Do you still like the feel of my cock in your ass? Will you forgive me, Jamie ... still be my boy forever and ever?" Mark saw the response in his boy's shining eyes. Too overwhelmed to speak Jamie clenched his ass muscles hard and Mark yelled, "I'm cumming again, boy!" They both did ... another howl of euphoria and another explosion of juice.

But even now they didn't stop. Mark's hips kept working like a piston, his cock kept driving into the warm hole that was now drenched in cum. They came again, and kept fucking, and lost count of their orgasms. It was no longer lust that drove them. Now it was love, pure and simple – that's what made them cum ... the rejoining of two spirits that had been driven apart and were now reunited in a passion that could never be broken, no matter what trials they faced.

At long last the marathon fuck neared its end. Mark pulled all the way out, smiled down at the shining blond face ... and drove his cock in hard and deep, cumming one last time and watching Jamie shoot yet another load over his own suntanned body. Mark fell forward on top of his boy's cum-slicked body and held him in his arms, tighter than ever to ensure that he never got away again. In total physical and emotional exhaustion they lay together, their heartbeats matching, their chests rising and falling together.

The dingy, threadbare motel room had been transformed into a magical place where man and boy had rediscovered the infinite power of love, just as Randy and Bob had in the same room all that long time go. Mark slid off Jamie and lay on his back beside him, his arm behind the boy's neck, both oblivious of their shabby surroundings. Jamie's head rested on Mark's bicep and was simply in heaven, though still half afraid that heaven would disappear. Seeking reassurance he spoke for the first time. "Sir, do you really mean that I am still your boy?"

Mark turned his head to face him. "Jamie, this is real – all the rest was bullshit – fake – started off by what you did and then inflated by my stupid ego that made me blind to the hurt you were feeling. But there will still be vibrations, Jamie, things to work out – still a few hills to climb."

"Oh, I know that, sir. The first thing that should happen is for you to punish me. I have to be punished, sir. I need it."

"Yeah, you're right, kiddo, but you know I never was the kind of master to whip his boy. Being a cop cured me of that. Anyway, first I want you to see Doctor Steve ... have as many therapy sessions with him as it takes. His methods can be kind of weird but they do seem to work." He grinned. "Maybe he can devise some kind of punishment for me to give you."

"I'll do anything, sir – whatever it takes to try to make amends and prove I'm worthy to be your boy again."

"I know kiddo. There's a way to go still, but whatever trials we face that's no sweat for us because we'll be facing the future together from now on."

"Thank you, sir," Jamie said. He snuggled against his master and soon, in this bleak little room, they were asleep.

And so love had won out and helped all the men and boys survive the crisis. Earlier, young Ben had sought comfort from his big brother in rough sex – the kind of sex where it was pain that had made him cum. Now here, in this room, it was pure love that had healed the wounds. The two events had been equal in intensity but at opposite ends of the sexual spectrum.

As Randy would have said, "Whatever it takes, buddy – whatever it takes."

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength"- Chapter 176.

Hey guys, this is Rob Williams. I hope that chapter got you off, and I welcome your comments and suggestions, which can be very helpful in planning future chapters. E-mail me in confidence at rw6789@aol.com.

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 pictures and biographies of all the characters and some other great artwork. Click on the `Our Story' tab to read the current chapter, or click on the green button to browse all the chapter synopses.

Enjoy! Rob Williams