A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 192 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER:

Randy proves he is still sexually potent despite his ball-crushing beating by Thor. "Bob gazed in awe at the dark gypsy face, the stubbled jaw, the muscular body covered in the mud, cuts and bruises of battle." Eddie gets a reward ... Hassan takes him to the desert leather bar where they put on a show. "It was an awesome sight, the naked boy hanging from the ropes, his ass impaled on the Marine's massive shaft."

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - Chapter 192 "Bob & Randy, Hassan & Eddie – Playing Rough"

High in the remote canyons in Topanga a drama had played out that could have ended disastrously for Randy and young Eddie. The boy's truck had stalled and with no cell-phone service he had been at the mercy of Thor, a massive ex-linebacker who had once been Eddie's nemesis when he worked at a Palm Springs leather bar.

With a combination of feverish investigation and sheer luck, Randy had discovered where Thor was holding the boy, had reached him just in time and faced Thor in a brutal fight in the rain and mud. Randy was getting the upper hand but Thor was a dirty fighter. He blinded Randy with mud and gravel and beat him savagely. As Randy lay beaten in the mud, Thor repeatedly slammed his heavy boot into his balls until the pain became unbearable and Randy passed out.

Eddie had partly freed himself and he smashed the chair he was still tied to against Thor, giving Randy time to recover. With the fury of an enraged bull, he had taken his revenge on Thor – and Randy's revenge was always brutal. With Thor hogtied, Randy had told Eddie to fuck the brute's ass, and the boy took his own revenge. They pissed on him, Randy shook his cock dry and grinned with satisfaction. "Come on, kid, let's get the fuck out of this rat-hole."

But Randy was hurt bad, so Eddie drove the truck and they pulled away with Thor's screams for mercy ringing in their ears. Randy managed to open his phone and when he heard Bob's anxious voice he said, "It's OK, buddy, I got him. But I got beat up pretty bad ... man I need you ... I really need you." Bob told him that he had got Thor's address from Mike, the bar owner, and had given it to Mark who had sped off on his police motorcycle. Hassan and Jason were due home any minute.

Randy shut off the phone, rested his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. Bob ... he clung to the image of Bob. But his balls had become numb with pain and he panicked. Would he still be able to ...? He opened his eyes and said, "Pull over, kid." Eddie did as he was told and Randy said, "Kid, you have a reputation as an epic cocksucker – best there is. Now I need you to prove it. See, my balls took a hell of a beating and I'm not sure if I can ..."

"I understand, sir. Leave everything to me." Eddie gave Randy a spectacular blow-job that had restored Randy's faith in his manhood, culminating in a triumphant explosion of cum in Eddie's mouth. Randy breathed heavily and rested his head back on the headrest with a sigh of relief and exhaustion. "Thanks, kiddo – man you are one fucking awesome cocksucker. Just what I needed." You've been amazing today kid – shit we make a great team."

Just then there was a knock at the steamed-up window and a red light flashed outside. Eddie lowered the window and found himself looking into the face of a cop ... Mark. He shone his flashlight and saw Randy resting his head, and Eddie with cum dribbling down his chin.

"Everything OK in here, guys?" Mark asked.

Eddie grinned. "It is now, sir. Everything's working just fine."

"Jesus, Randy, you look like shit," Mark said. "Looks like you took hell of a beating, man."

"It's OK, buddy," Randy grinned ... "you should see the other guy. I guess you're on your way there now. You can't miss him. He'll be the shit-for-brains mother-fucker hog-tied, stinking of piss, with young Eddie's jizz dribbling out of his ass." Mark tried to stifle a grin. "Shit, man, when a guy messes with one of your boys you sure do a number on them."

"Yeah, well you could book the asshole on kidnapping, assault, sexual abuse, grievous bodily harm – hell, officer, you've got the book, you could throw the whole damn thing at him. Whatever you do with him, just know that me and the kid won't press charges. I've thrashed the mother-fucker and that's an end of it. The kid's already been hurt enough. And now, old buddy, unless you're gonna arrest us for sucking dick on a public highway, we really gotta get home. I need Bob real bad."

Mark grinned, "How about you Eddie? You wanna charge this guy here with forcing you to suck his dick in his truck?" Eddie, always in awe of Mark's uniform, said solemnly, "No thank you, sir. Besides, I liked it and I'll do it again if he tells me to."

Mark shook his head. "Shit, you two make one hell of a team. OK, get the fuck out of here. Bob's waiting for you, buddy ... and Eddie, you'll find a big stud Marine, name of Hassan, waiting for you. Drive carefully – I'd hate to top all this off by giving you a speeding ticket."

As Eddie drove through the canyon Randy finally submitted to the demands of his body and fell into a deep sleep, always his way of healing himself. A few minutes later Eddie's cell phone rang. He put a bud in his ear for hands-free use and spoke quietly. It was Bob. "Hey, kiddo, I called you `cause I figured after getting banged up in a fight Randy would fall asleep. How are you both doing? Anything I should know before you get here? The guys are all here – I'm gonna put you on speaker phone."

"We're OK, sir but, like you said, Randy's pretty banged up and kept asking for you. You're right, he's fallen asleep. It was a hell of a fight though, sir, and Randy was spectacular – beat the guy to a pulp. I did my bit too, bashing him with a chair while Randy was out for the count." Eddie knew he had an audience – and made the most of it, especially after he heard Darius's voice in the background – "Out for the count? ... dude ...!"

So Eddie poured out the whole story, barely pausing for breath. Bob let him go on, knowing that re-living the events was a catharsis for the boy, getting it all off his chest so he wouldn't bottle up the trauma he must have felt. Better he act like a hero – which he evidently was.

When Bob hung up the phone the guys looked at each other in amazement. Bob was worried about Randy, but he pulled himself together and said, "Well, Hassan, looks like your boy proved himself to be one tough young buck. Doesn't sound as if he got hurt too bad though ... unlike Randy... his voice trailed off. Zack put his arm round him. "Hey, buddy, don't worry. You know that guy could get run over by a truck and still get up fighting. My bet is all he needs is you to put him back together good as new."

The only man absent was Mark, who was still in the canyon paying a not-too-friendly visit on the humiliated Thor. But Mario was still here. He liked Eddie a lot and, with all the uncertainty, he had stayed to support Jamie, calling his hotel to switch shifts. Pablo, Ben and the twins were back home and now that the pall of anxiety had lifted from the house the boys were buzzing with excitement, dissecting and embellishing the story Eddie had related. Darius, of course, was the embellisher-in-chief and Pablo was preening that his master was the hero of the hour.

Practical as ever the twins started to set the table in the big dining room for a much delayed dinner (it was still too wet to eat outdoors), while Nate helped Bob prepare the bedroom. It wasn't long before they heard tires crunch on the gravel outside and they all ran to the gate.

Bob and Zack helped a still groggy Randy from the passenger side, while Eddie jumped out the other side right into the arms of Hassan. The boys hovered around expectantly, but had the good manners not to crowd Hassan and Eddie in their passionate reunion. They all somehow made it to the dining room where Randy took a deep breath, shook off the guys supporting him and stood tall, the undisputed leader of the tribe.

"Guys, as you can guess right now I need a heavy dose of Bob, but before we go upstairs I just have one thing to say about the new hero among us – young Eddie here. He was in real danger but kept his cool and strung the asshole along until I got there. He even had the guts to bite the fucker's cock." An excited murmur ran through the crowd.

"This Thor asshole was brutal and fought dirty but Eddie was a match for him. With one hand still tied to a chair he swung the damn thing at him like a club. He saved us both ... without this kid I wouldn't have made it, guys. Hassan, you've got yourself one hell of a boy ... you should be real proud. Eddie, thank you, kiddo ... you're tough, brave, a hell of a fighter and a terrific member of the tribe." Eddie was blushing deep red. "OK, now before I keel over, I gotta see you in the bedroom, Bob."

As Bob helped him from the room cheers and applause rang out and Eddie was hoisted onto the table. The dinner preparations were disrupted – but the twins didn't mind a bit.

Jason came with Bob and helped him support Randy, who refused to sit down. As a fireman Jason had basic paramedic training so he gave Randy a quick examination, running his hands over his body, shining a mini flashlight in his eyes, feeling his balls and asking basic questions that Randy answered impatiently.

"Well," Jason smiled, "you must be made of cast iron, big guy, `cause amazingly enough there seems to be no major damage But you're obviously pretty banged up and you're gonna be plenty sore for a few days, especially your nuts. So I'd say no strenuous activity for a day or two – go to bed and get plenty of sleep. And for god's sake let Bob wash that damn mud off you. You look like you've been rolling around in it ... oh, I guess you were, eh stud?"

Bob grinned at him. "Thanks, Jason, I really appreciate this. Guess I'll take over from here." Jason shook Randy's hand and left the room muttering, "Fucking amazing."

Now Bob took charge – or thought he did. "OK, Randy, you heard what the man said. First we're gonna get you in the shower, clean you up and put you to bed so you can sleep this off. Jason gave you good advice – no strenuous activity." He put his hands on Randy shoulders to guide him to the bathroom, but Randy shook him off. "Fuck that bullshit." After his speech to the tribe praising Eddie, Randy was still in King-of-the-Gypsies mode.

He grabbed Bob's shoulder and held him at arm's length. "You know me better than that, buddy. I don't need a nursemaid – I need you, man. Listen, the only thing that kept me going in that fight was the thought of you. I knew I had to win and come back to you. That mother-fucker was tough and he fought dirty – blinded me with mud, thrashed me and left me unconscious in the mud. He'd have finished me off if it hadn't been for Eddie smashing that chair over the son-of-a-bitch. As I crawled through the mud it was the thought of you that gave me strength to get back up and beat the fucker to a pulp."

He grinned at his lover. "You know how I am, man, after a fight. Especially this one where I almost got beat. I need to prove I've still got it in me, man, and I want you more than ever."

"I know that, Randy, but – after what he did to you, are you sure you can still..."

"Hell yes! The kid gave me a blow job in the truck and I shot a gallon in his mouth. Shit, apart from being a tough young buck that boy is one hell of a great cocksucker. So don't worry about that, buddy. Just give me what I need – what only you can give me." And at last Randy lowered himself into a chair and watched.

Bob knew exactly what Randy needed – what he had needed so often in the past after a fight. Usually he would storm home and, without a word, throw Bob on the bed and rape the shit out of him. It always hurt but it thrilled Bob to his core to see Randy turn into a wild animal and prove his macho dominance to Bob and to himself. But this time was different. Randy had been hurt bad and was taking it easier – for him, anyway. Bob knew he had to make Randy's dick hard, and he knew just how to do it.

Bob was wearing a plaid shirt over a white T-shirt, blue jeans and loafers. There was a full-length mirror on the wall just behind Randy and a bit to the side, so Bob had a perfect view of himself while he stood in front of Randy. He smiled at himself, undid a couple of shirt buttons and ran his hand under the shirt and over the T-shirt, feeling the shape of his flexing pecs. "Yeah," he moaned quietly, rubbing his nipples.

"Fuck, man," Randy groaned, "you are so fucking gorgeous. You blow me away every time, like it's the first time." He moved his hand down to his crotch but Bob said a stern "No!"

"Shit, man, you're not gonna let me ...?" Again the sharp "No!" Grudgingly Randy moved his hand away and grasped the arms of his chair. Bob focused again on the mirror, undid a few more buttons and pulled his shirt open, displaying the full width of his sculpted chest. For Randy it was like watching Superman rip open his shirt. Bob shrugged the shirt off and let it fall to the floor. Pushing back the short sleeves of the T-shirt over his biceps he raised his arms to the side and pumped his biceps in a bodybuilder pose.

Randy gripped the chair white-knuckled to avoid touching his cock as he gazed in awe at Bob's muscular torso rippling under the T-shirt. From the broad shoulders it sloped down over the bulging pecs and ridges of the abs to the tight waist of the jeans. As he flexed and posed, the T-shirt pulled out of the waistband, giving Randy a glimpse of his stomach and the top of his white undershorts showing above the jeans.

Randy groaned, "Take off the shirt, man ... please ..."

As if he hadn't heard him, Bob gazed steadily into the mirror, reached behind his neck and pulled up the T-shirt, letting it slide slowly over his abs and chest, then over his head and he flung it at Randy's feet. "Aaahh," Randy gasped, mesmerized by the sight of Superman stripped to the waist. "That is fucking spectacular, man ... you're so fucking beautiful. I gotta touch my dick, buddy."

"No!" Bob said sharply. "I need to see that you're as potent as you ever were – that I can still make you cum." He looked back at the mirror, pressed his fists into his waist and flared his lats in another classic bodybuilder pose. Randy stared at his gleaming torso, but what turned him on the most was his slim waist, the white shorts showing above the waistband of the blue-jeans, setting off his golden tan. Suddenly Bob turned around and, still posing, gave Randy a view of his sensational ass, the twin globes straining against the blue denim.

"Holy shit, man, I gotta have that ass." Unable to hold back Randy released his grip on the chair, ripped open his muddy pants, pulled out his rigid cock and began stroking it. Bob whirled round and shouted, "I said no!" Quickly he yanked Randy's hand off his dick and slammed his wrists back down on the chair arms. He picked up his shirt and T-shirt and used them to tie Randy's wrists to the chair. "I told you I wanted to see if you've still got it in you, stud. What? You scared that guy ruined your nuts so bad you can't perform anymore?"

Bob's taunts struck home and Randy concentrated on his lover's glorious face and body. Still helplessly tied, his cock was sticking up like a pole out of his open pants. Gazing into the mirror again Bob unbuttoned his own jeans and pulled out his cock, hard as steel. He grabbed it with his right hand and used his other hand to squeeze his left nipple. At first he got off on his own mirror image, but then he walked squarely in front of Randy.

"You see this, big guy? You see your beautiful lover who can make you do anything? Yeah, out there you're the King of the Gypsies, the fighter who never gets beaten, the man who others kneel to. But in here I'm in charge – the only man who can make you submit. You'll do anything I tell you to do – that right?"

"You know it is, man," Randy growled. Bob smiled. "OK, then. You got your balls stomped on real bad in the fight, but you're gonna show me you've lost none of that sexual power you've always had. You're gonna show me now, man." Randy gazed up in awe at the man he loved, the spectacular muscle-god who was now beating his meat in front of his face. He felt his own cock pulsing. His straining balls hurt but it was nothing to the fire in his cock.

He watched mesmerized as Bob threw his head back, his whole body flexed and he yelled, "Aaagh!" A white plume of liquid blasted from his cock, rose high in the air and splashed down on Randy's chest and face. Randy shuddered, pulled frantically at his restraints and screamed as his own cock exploded with a massive eruption of cum. He opened his mouth and drank his own semen mixed with Bob's. He swallowed hard, never losing eye contact with the man he worshipped, the man who could make him achieve anything, no matter how badly his body hurt, or how brutally he had been thrashed. He was as much a sexual stallion as ever.

Bob shook his cock dry and pushed it back inside his jeans. He smiled down at Randy, the big boss tied to the chair, his face and chest smothered with jism that dribbled down his chin. He had proved beyond doubt that his balls functioned fine, despite the beating they had taken. He had been so turned on by his shirtless lover that he had shot a spontaneous load of cum without touching himself.

And yet ... as Bob looked down at the bound bodybuilder, his head hanging down in submission, he knew that this was still not the supremely confident, powerful leader he had been before the fight. He had been beaten and humiliated by Thor and then dominated by his own lover. Sure, he was healed sexually and had put on a good King-of-the-Gypsies front to the guys. But deep inside, his confidence in himself still needed to be restored. His very manhood was at stake. To salvage his pride he needed to prove his physical dominance – and there was only one way to do that.

Bob knew all this, and he knew how to help. He grabbed Randy's hair, pulled his head back, stared into his eyes and taunted him. "So, I made you shoot your wad, man. I can make you do anything ... you see now? ... I'm in charge ... I am the best." He looked down scornfully at the open fly of Randy's jeans. "Man, that dick of yours looks pretty tired ... it's already shot a load in Eddie's mouth and another one all over yourself. You look wasted, man. But I can do anything to you – even make you hard again – without even touching you. See, the big boss man is in my power."

Bob knew that one of the biggest turn-ons for Randy was to see his lover bare-chested wearing only blue jeans, especially with the waistband of his white shorts showing just over the top of the jeans. He paced the room barefoot, moving deliberately under the ceiling spotlights, flexing his muscles, then looking in the mirror admiring himself. He knew he looked spectacular and knew the effect this always had on Randy. Now was no different. Out of the corner of his eye Bob saw Randy's cock stiffen as he struggled against his wrist restraints. Bob turned his back to him, shoved his thumbs in his waistband and pushed his jeans forward, stretching them over the mounds of his perfect ass.

"Aaah! ... Aaah," Randy groaned desperately, aching for his lover's ass. Bob turned and was taken aback by what he saw. Randy's cock was now stiff as a pole in his open jeans and his eyes were blazing with a mix of anger and lust – the look of a wild man. "You fucker," he yelled. "You, Thor, and all the rest of them – you think you can beat me? Hell no! I am the best – and I'll prove it. I'm gonna fuck your ass, man!"

His muscles bulged with his enormous strength, he howled like an animal, and Bob took a step back as he saw the veins bulge, the body like granite, and heard the sound of tearing fabric. The shirt and T-shirt binding his wrists ripped and fell to the floor, Randy's hands sprang free and he leapt to his feet. Bob was actually scared by the wild look in his eyes and took a few steps backward toward the bed.

As Randy advanced he snarled, "So you're the best, eh? The big boss is in your power, eh? Well, you'll find out, asshole, just like Thor did when I thrashed him and he lay beaten in the mud. See, you belong to me, man ... I'm the master. Get it?" He put his hand on Bob's chest and pushed him backwards down on the bed. He leaned forward, ripped open Bob's jeans and pulled them down his legs and off. He yanked hard on his shorts and ripped them off. He picked up the torn T-shirt and used it and the shorts to tie Bob's wrists to the bed posts.

"You challenged me, man, and you know what happens to a man who challenges my authority. Thor found that out and so will you. I should've fucked that moron's ass but I gave it to Eddie. But yours is mine now." He gazed down at the bound muscleman, spread-eagled on the bed. "Let's see you get free, asshole." Bob pulled on his wrists, his muscles straining, body writhing. He did it partly because he knew it turned Randy on, but also out of genuine fear.

His mind went back to that motel room long ago where he had met the rugged construction worker who had tied him up and worked him over. Randy had terrified him at the time – but he had come back for more. Bob was given the chance to leave but had stayed ... and never left. Despite Randy's notorious anger he knew the man loved him passionately. There was no man like him and the mix of fear and lust he inspired was uniquely erotic.

It was like that now as Bob gazed up mesmerized by the dark gypsy face, the square, stubbled jaw, the heavily muscled body covered in dried mud and semen, bearing the cuts and bruises of battle. He was a dark demon – terrifying and thrilling. And the deep voice ... "You can beg me now, man, and I'll go easy on you. Submit – admit I'm the master and I won't hurt you."

Bob knew what Randy needed to hear. "Go fuck yourself, asshole."

"OK, you wanna play rough, eh?" Randy fell forward, his hands grabbing Bob's bound wrists. "Oh man, am I gonna enjoy working you over. You think that mother-fucker ruined my balls? Well think again." He eased higher so his balls, hanging out of his pants, were level with Bob's face. He rammed then down onto Bob's open mouth and Bob sucked them in – first one, then both. Randy howled in pain but wanted more, so he pulled back, stretching the ball-sac, his balls on fire. He stared into Bob's amazed eyes and said, "See, man – I can take any pain you or that shithead Thor can throw at me. This is me, Randy!"

He pulled back harder until his balls popped out of Bob's mouth with Randy's final scream of pain. But, typically for Randy the pain only increased his lust. He eased back, knelt between Bob's legs, pushed them up high and pressed the head of his cock against Bob's hole. Bob saw all the love, lust and anger in his eyes as Randy said, "You knew as soon as we came in here that I was gonna ream your ass, didn't you, man? And you knew it would be like this."

With one massive thrust of his hips Randy plunged his huge rod deep into his lover's ass, watched his head fly back and heard his scream. "Remember that, man? Remember that first time, and every time after a fight? God, you look sensational getting your ass ploughed. You want it, man? You want more?"

"Yes, sir. Please, sir. Fuck my ass. Do it hard... aaagh!" The steel shaft drove into his ass like a piston as Randy became a savage, pile-driving his massive cock deep into Bob's gut. He gazed down at the tortured Superman face thrashing in pain, the muscular body writhing, pulling desperately at the ropes binding it. The sight added fuel to Randy's frenzy and the battle-scarred construction worker jack-hammered the ass without mercy. In his frenzied mind he was fucking Thor ... what he should have done to the shithead to prove his supremacy.

Bob hurtled into a world of pain, lust and passion as his man did what no-one else ever could. The savage ass fuck became savage love as Randy fell forward and ground his mouth against Bob while he ground the ass with his cock. Randy reached up and expertly untied Bob's wrists. Bob threw his arms round Randy and they grappled, with the relentless cock still spearing him. Bob pushed Randy over and found himself sitting astride him, riding his stallion cock. It was his turn to grab Randy's wrists and gaze down at him. "Your cock feels spectacular inside me. Thank you, sir. I love you."

Randy threw Bob onto his side, pushed one leg up high and watched his own ferocious cock driving into the hole. "Shit, that looks beautiful, man." And once again the erotic sight spurred Randy on to greater strength and intensity, making Bob howl with pain and ecstasy.

Finally they came back to where they had begun, with Bob's legs over Randy shoulders, Randy leaning forward and pinning Bob's wrists to the bed. They gazed into each other's eyes, seeing their own reflection in them and, as so often before, they entered a magical world where they lived alone, together – no one else, nothing else, except their deep and abiding passion.

Bob was all that really mattered to Randy. Fuck the rest of the world – it was to this man he had to prove himself to. He needed to show he was the undisputed leader. So he turned up the heat and pounded Bob's ass deeper and harder than ever. He looked into the tortured eyes and said, "You can make it stop, man. You know I'm the master, that I'm the best. Tell me ... submit to me ... let me hear you beg, man. I wanna watch Superman beg."

The pain in Bob's ass was reaching a crescendo and he knew he couldn't take any more. It was real now. He wanted it to stop, to feel Randy's juice in his ass. "OK," he pleaded. "I can't take any more. It hurts so bad. Please, sir, please cum in my ass. I'm begging you, sir. I submit to you. Please ... I submit... aaagh!" His cock erupted, streaming cum up to Randy's chest, while the big man howled and blasted hot juice deep inside his lover's ravaged ass.

Their screams abated and they stared at each other in awe, their cocks draining at last. Randy pulled his cock out gently and fell forward, folding Bob tightly in his arms. The King of the Gypsies, who only hours ago had lain beaten in the mud, was back, his body still aching but his dominance restored. Only Bob could have brought about this transformation and Randy knew it. "Thanks, buddy," he said in Bob's ear. "God, I need you. Don't ever leave me, man."

"I could never leave the most exciting man in the world, Randy. I'm just glad the boss is back."

Though which of them was really the boss it was impossible to say.

The next morning dawned sparklingly clear, which is usual in Southern California after a heavy rainstorm. The air was pristine fresh, inviting deep breaths to clear the lungs. The leaves on the trees had been washed clean, the earth smelled sweet and there was a feeling of rejuvenation in the air. At breakfast spirits were high and the dramatic rescue in the rain the day before still resonated strongly.

Mark told them of the aftermath – how he had found Thor bound and humiliated, but his reaction to the arrival of a cop was one of fear rather than relief. This tipped Mark off to search the garage where he found in a cupboard, high up to foil sniffing dogs, a cornucopia of drugs – meth, cocaine, weed, heroin and a pharmacy of pills. Evidently a pretty large-scale dealer. Mark had called for backup and turned Thor over to the local cops. "Don't worry, Eddie," Mark grinned, "Thor won't be around for a long, long time."

"Oh, I'm not worried, sir," Eddie said perkily, "with all you guys around." Darius huffed, "Hell, you don't need us guys, kiddo – seems like you could waste that asshole all on your own." Eddie was still the hero of the hour and basked in the acclaim.

Randy was taking a rare day off work but, although his body still ached, he was still super-charged from his night with Bob and reinvigorated as the tribe's leader after his heroic rescue of Eddie. "OK listen up," he said. "I've got a few things to say. First the kid has to have a new truck. Pablo, you're kinda buddy-buddy with the car dealers around here after all the business you've put their way, so I want you to take Eddie around so he can find a truck he likes. Make sure you get a good deal and check with Jamie on the financing. And that piece of shit he's been driving, you can sell it, pull it to bits for spare parts or push it over a cliff for all I care.

"Now, about housing. Eddie, you can't go on sharing a room with Ben, even though I know you're off with Hassan a lot and Ben stays over at Jason's. So Zack, let's get together with Lloyd and see if he can draw up plans for turning that big storage area in back into a three-bedroom apartment for Eddie, Ben and Mario. Shit, this house is getting crowded."

Mario, who was still there for one last day before resuming his hotel job, looked up in surprise. Randy faced him. "What? You are coming to live here I assume?" He didn't wait for a reply. "`Course you are. You're one of us, boy – damned hot one too. Mark and Zack have seen to that. We need a part-time gardener and an assistant for Jamie, so you fit right in. Like I said, you're one of us. Any questions? Good, so that's settled. Now I'm gonna spend the day with Bob and I don't want to be interrupted unless the house is on fire. On second thoughts, if the house catches fire, check with Jason."

Randy sat back and resumed stuffing food into his mouth. Bob looked at Mark and Zack and shrugged with a helpless grin. When Randy took charge he really took charge. No one challenged him – didn't dare to – and anyway everything he said made sense. That's why he was the boss. After a respectful silence conversation quickly picked up, with the boys loudly congratulating Eddie and a stunned Mario, who pressed against his excited friend Jamie.

Hassan turned to Nate and said, "Nate, do you think you could spare Eddie for a couple of days? I wanna take him out to my place in the desert for a treat, and go visit that bar owner Mike – thank him for everything he did to help Randy locate Thor and rescue Eddie. Nate grinned and said in his thick Australian accent. "No worries there, sir. Who am I to say no to the resident hero? And he sure deserves a couple of days off."

Eddie hadn't expected this and he gazed adoringly at Hassan. The thought of spending a couple of days in the desert with him was thrilling, not to mention a visit to his old bar and seeing his old boss Mike for the first time since he left there. Seemed a long time, he thought, since his shy bar-back days. He'd changed a lot – just wait `til the guys there saw him again.

Breakfast was over and most of the guys went off to work. Zack was in charge of the construction sites in Randy's absence and he took Darius, Pablo and Ben with him. Adam went to work at his airline, leaving Nate and the twins to care for the house as usual. They were careful to leave Bob and Randy to themselves, though they couldn't help glancing through the kitchen window and watching the two men relaxing by the pool, frequently making love in and out of the water. Mark and Jason, like Hassan, had time off after their combined training exercise, so Mark took Jamie and Mario to spend the day with Jason.

And Hassan and Eddie hit the road. Eddie was glowing from the reception he had received from all the guys and especially the words of praise from big boss Randy. But mostly his happiness came from sitting beside the handsome Marine who steered his jeep with one hand and draped his other arm over his boy's shoulder.

Most of the drive to the desert was spent in near silence. Hassan thought it better not to rehash the traumatic events of yesterday and Eddie was content to let the memories slide, nestled in warmth and safety next to Hassan. But he became more animated as the jeep finally bumped over the track to Hassan's little getaway house sitting like a mirage in the middle of the desert sand. When they arrived, Eddie jumped out of the jeep and immediately went into houseboy mode, helping Hassan unload the jeep, then busying himself opening doors and windows, airing the house and cleaning it up.

Hassan watched him scurrying around, doing his best to make his master comfortable. His heart went out to the boy. Only yesterday he had been in a situation of extreme peril where he had shown tremendous guts, and now here he was playing his usual part of humble houseboy. The Marine loved the boy more than ever, and as he watched him in his shorts and old ragged T-shirt he felt his cock swelling in his fatigue pants. Hassan knew what Eddie needed, applying the principle that if you get hurt falling off a horse the only thing to do is to get right back on. He needed the same as yesterday – only this time from a man who loved and protected him.

"Hey, kid," he said. "How about you stop playing houseboy and take on the part you're so good at – a boy who's captured and worked over by a hot Marine? Let's go downstairs." Eddie's body tingled as he allowed himself to be led down the stairs to the basement and he saw, under the dim red lights, the chains, ropes and whips on the wall – a replica of the far-off desert dungeon where Hassan had interrogated Mark all those years ago. Yesterday's terror never came to Eddie's mind as he placed himself at the mercy of the Marine he worshipped.

Much later they had a barbecue dinner and talked of the future, which seemed especially bright for Eddie. They chatted about what kind of truck Eddie wanted, and about the new living arrangement described by Randy. Hassan smiled, "I don't want you to get too comfortable there, though, kiddo. You're still gonna have to come up to my place whenever I want you, which will be as often as ever." Eddie grinned mischievously. "Aye, aye, sir – all you have to do is whistle and I'll be right there." Hassan ruffled his hair and they sat for a long time watching the sun set in a blaze of red and gold behind the distant dunes.

They took a nap and it was late evening when Hassan jumped to his feet and said, "OK, kid, time for us to go visit that bar and properly thank your old boss Mike for all the help he gave Randy yesterday." He was already wearing fatigues and combat boots and he pulled on a khaki tank top and an old ragged military-green sleeveless shirt. Edie's heart missed a beat as he gazed at the spectacular muscle-god Marine.

As for himself, he dressed with special care ... he wanted to look good for the guys in the bar who had last seen him only as the quiet young bar-back unobtrusively picking up bottles and glasses. He had brought with him (for this very occasion) an old pair of worn jeans with holes at the knees, fitting him snugly and showing off his ass. He wore an old, white dirt-streaked T-shirt stretched over his torso, newly muscular thanks to many sessions in the gym with Pablo.

Hassan did a double-take. "Holy shit, boy, you look real hot in that. Man, I could take you downstairs right now and tie you up – rip that tank off you, whip your chest, pull down your pants and plough that sweet ass of yours. Later maybe. Right now you're gonna show yourself off at the bar. I know Bob told Mike on the phone all the details of how you fought that asshole off yesterday so I guess you're gonna be quite the hero.

When they got to the industrial part of town they drove in the dark past warehouses to the small bar with wide leather strips over the door. "This the place, right?" Hassan said. "I gotta go take a leak in the sand ... you go on in and I'll follow. Eddie was brimming with excitement as he ran up to the door, paused, then brushed the leather aside and made his entrance.

"Holy shit! Will you look what the wind blew in, guys," yelled a loud voice. Mike came out from behind the bar and scoped Eddie into his arms. "Jesus, Christ, you look sensational, kid. Feel that body ... wow, you've sure been working out – not the skinny young bar-back I used to know. Hey, guys, you remember that big, mean linebacker Thor? Well meet the kid who beat him up – with a little help from that gorgeous muscle-hunk Randy."

The story had already gone round the bar many times, as they had all disliked Thor, but no-one ever dared to challenge him, with his `undefeated' reputation. The bar regulars all crowded round Eddie, congratulating him, running their hands over his tank top and feeling his hard young muscles. Eddie was basking in the noisy adulation ... but suddenly it stopped.

A hush fell as they all looked over to the doorway. Standing in it was a guy who looked as if he had stepped straight off the pages of a porn magazine – a military icon in fatigues, boots, and a sleeveless shirt over his khaki tank. He was tall, spectacularly built, his muscular arms gleaming under the red lights. His square jawed features were exotic – Arab/Asian, slanted eyes, high cheek bones, jet black hair.

There was a stunned silence and nobody moved – except Eddie who broke free of the crowd, ran over to Hassan, pulled him forward and announced proudly. "Mike, this is Hassan. He's a Marine – and I'm his boy."

Mike looked from one to the other. "The hell you are, boy." He pumped Hassan's hand and beamed. "Man, now I've seen it all – the construction boss, the cop, the black leather-stud and his boy, and now the Marine. Shit, what is it with you guys in that house – you put something in the water to make you all look so fucking pornographic? Huh, you guys ever make a movie you'd make a fucking fortune."

"You haven't seen Randy's lover though," Eddie gushed, "his name's Bob and he looks like Superman ... And there's a fireman too, Jason, and he was in a calendar – August – and his boy is Ben, Randy's brother, a hot gypsy boy – and two Aussies, Adam's a big tall muscle-stud who used to hang out in leather bars in Sydney, and there's a gorgeous doctor who ..."

"Hey, hey, enough, kiddo," Hassan said in his lilting accent. "The guys don't wanna hear all about us..." but he was shouted down by friendly objections from the crowd. "OK, OK," Hassan laughed, "but right now can I buy a couple of beers?"

`Absolutely not," Mike insisted. "Are you kidding? For a muscle-hunk Marine like you and your handsome young hero, drinks are on the house – and whatever else you may need, too."

****************** .

After about an hour Hassan was starting to get a bit restless. His mind floated back to what he had promised Eddie when they got back to his house and his basement – tying him up, ripping off his shirt, whipping and fucking him. But he had stood with his arm around Eddie, being plied with drinks and good-naturedly answering a million questions about life in the Marines, life in the house with "those other muscle-gods" and especially the life of Hassan with his boy Eddie.

As the beer flowed the guys got bolder and questions turned to their sex life. "Shit," one of them said, "I'd pay good money to watch you guys fuck." A chorus of agreement echoed round the group and when Hassan smiled down at Eddie he saw eager eyes sparkling up at him. "What we talked about earlier, kiddo – guess you'd really love an audience. You wanna show off?"

"No, sir," Eddie said. "I want to show you off. I'm so proud of being your boy, sir. When I worked here and I first saw Darius and Zack they put on a fantastic show in the back room they have here. I'd love the guys to see what we ..." He let the thought hang in the air and Hassan laughed. "I was wondering what reward to give you for being such a gutsy young kid yesterday. I guess now I know – something you'll remember for a long time. Hey, Mike, could you show me and Eddie that room he's talking about?" "Hell yeah," Mike grinned.

A short while later Mike came out of the room and said, "OK, guys, you're in for something spectacular that'll keep you pounding your meat for years to come. I want you to come in quietly and stay back against the wall in the shadows. And you know the rule – no cameras or cell-phones or I'll haul your ass out myself. They silently filed into the back room and did as Mike had ordered. It was almost black in the room except for a very dim overhead spot in the middle where they could just make out the vague shape of a man – or a boy.

They waited breathlessly ... and slowly Mike turned up the dimmer. The red light grew bright and there were gasps of, "Holy, fuck ... Man that's hot ... Jesus Christ..." It was Eddie, standing with his arms stretched up in a V, ropes round his wrists, the other ends tied to hooks in the ceiling. In his ragged jeans with holes at the knees and his thin, dirty white T-shirt stretched over his chest pulling up from his waist showing a glimpse of his tight stomach just above his jeans, the boy looked like a captured young street urchin.

"I've got you now, boy." The deep voice came from the half-shadows where they now saw the Marine, sprawled in a chair, a whip lying across his lap. "You think you can get away from me? Try it, boy." Eddie looked up at his bound wrists and pulled on them. He yanked harder, desperately, his body writhing, trying to twist out of his restraints. He pulled himself up, hanging with his legs kicking, his handsome young face grimacing with pain and effort. His thin tank now rode up higher, showing the ridges of his washboard abs flexing hard.

"Aaagh!" The groan came from one of the spectators, unable to hold back his orgasm at the sight of the struggling young prisoner. The Marine stood up, paced round the room, then faced his captive, tapping the whip in his palm. "Yeah, you'll do fine, boy. I need a boy like you – good-looking, tough, great body and a hot young ass. See, you're mine now, boy. I own you – you're my new sex-slave. Us Marines get good and horny, so maybe I'll loan you out to my buddies to get gang-fucked. Now, you ready to submit to me, boy?"

"Fuck off," said the boy defiantly. The Marine smiled scathingly. "So that's how you wanna play it, eh boy? Good, I like a boy with spunk." Hassan pulled off his military shirt and the crowd gasped to see his muscular torso outlined under the khaki tank. He stretched out his arms and growled, "Look at me, boy. Do I look like the kind of soldier who takes talk like that from a boy? Guys kneel to me, punk, and so will you. Or you'll get this ..." He stepped back, raised his arm and cracked the bull-whip lightly across the boy's chest, making him flinch.

"First, you're gonna learn some manners – learn to call your master sir. Let's hear it." But the boy remained silent. The Marine cracked the whip over his chest again but the boy pursed his lips defiantly. The soldier's eyes blazed, he grabbed the boy's tank and ripped it from top to bottom, letting the shreds hang from his shoulders, his chest bare. He twisted the boy's nipples hard, then used the whip again, curling it round his chest and back. "Oh shit..." There were more moans from the crowd as several guys bust their load watching the muscular Marine whip the young prisoner, his shredded tank hanging off him.

Hassan knew just what he was doing, and Eddie knew it too. He would whip him harder each time until Eddie really couldn't take it anymore and would genuinely beg for mercy. The lash came again and again, wrapping lightly round his chest, his back and the mounds of his ass. But still the boy defied him. "OK, boy, you're tough alright, but now I'm starting to get mad. He pulled the remains of the boy's shirt off his shoulders and let them hang from his waist. Then Hassan faced the shadowy group against the wall, reached behind his neck and slowly pulled his khaki tank up, over his head and tossed it aside.

"Aaagh ... aaagh." The moans and howls increased as many men shot jism on the floor at their first sight of the muscle-god Marine, stripped to the waist, his spectacular muscles rippling and gleaming with a sheen of sweat. He was magnificent, and most of the men would have willingly switched places with the boy in bondage. Hassan now put more strength behind the blows, the bull-whip snapping round the boy's bare torso. Eddie felt real pain now and yelled, "No, sir. Please, sir ... I can't take any more."

The whipping stopped. "OK, boy, I'll give you a break – a choice." He unzipped his pants and pulled out his huge, hard rod, to more gasps from the onlookers. "See this, kid? Here's your choice. Either you take more of the whip – or you take this rod up your sweet ass. You get whipped or fucked." The boy shuddered. "No, sir, please. I've never been fucked – I could never take anything that huge."

"OK, boy, you've made your choice." He grabbed the boy's jeans, yanked them open and they fell to his ankles. He was naked underneath and his stiff dick sprang out. "Well, what do we have here?" Hassan taunted him, tapping the cock with the whip. "Seems you enjoyed your first taste of the whip." Then Hassan stroked his ass. "Oh, man, look at that incredible ass. Shit, boy, I'm gonna have that one way or another. He raised the whip and cracked it across the ass. As the crowd saw the perfect white globes bounce under the lash they yelled their approval and there were more gasps of orgasm.

But the pain in Eddie's butt was becoming unbearable. He took it as long as he could but one last savage crack made him scream, "OK, OK, sir ... please stop ... please, sir ... I can't take any more ... I beg you, sir." Hassan faced him, put the whip-handle under his chin and pushed his face up. "Right, you know the bargain, boy. You can't take the whip, so what do you want, boy? Tell me."

Eddie looked into the fierce, dark slanted eyes and stammered, "Sir, I want ... I want you to fuck my ass." He looked down at the massive shaft and said, "I want your cock in my ass, sir. I want to feel it in my ass. Please, sir – please fuck me."

"That's better, boy," the Marine said. "Maybe this'll make it easier for you." He grabbed the boy's head, pulled it toward him and ground their mouths together, probing deep with his tongue. Eddie had never been so turned on in his life. In front of an audience with their many orgasms he had defied his master, been whipped by him to his pain limit, and had begged him to fuck him. He heard the sounds of the enraptured spectators and knew that his glorious master was going to fuck his ass in front of them.

Hassan broke away, walked behind the boy, grabbed his waist and gazed down at the white mounds striped by the whip. He eased his cock between the cheeks – "here it comes, boy!" – and plunged it deep into his ass. Eddie screamed, pulled himself up on the ropes and stretched his legs out in front as if to escape the huge pole. It was a spectacular sight, the gorgeous young boy hanging from the ropes, his ass impaled on the Marine's massive shaft. Many of the men shot their load again for a second time.

Eddie couldn't hold on long, his feet fell to the floor ... and the fuck really began. They saw the long cock piston inside the boy's ass, saw his body shudder and jerk in his restraints, his head thrashing from side to side. They watched the shirtless Marine wrap his huge arms round the boy from behind and squeeze his nipples. It was the most incredible sight most of them had ever seen, and it went on and on. Their bodies were streaming with sweat, glistening under the bright red light, and finally they heard the boy gasping with pain.

"You can make this stop, boy," came the deep voice. "All you have to do is submit. Give into me as your master. Give yourself to me as my boy – forever. You know you have to ... you know you want to ... you know I can make you – like this ..." He pulled his hips back, his cock came clear out of the ass, then slammed back in, deeper than before, over the inner sphincter into the deepest cauldron of his ass.

"Aaaagh...!" Eddie's scream echoed round the room his eyes opened wide, his body convulsed and his cock exploded with a stream of cum that flew high in the air, across the room and fell at the feet of the stunned spectators. "Aaaagh...!" Another blast followed, then another and another. "I submit! I submit! I'll be your boy, sir. Please, I submit to you, sir. Please let me be your boy."

Abruptly Hassan pulled out his cock, walked in front of the boy, reached up and untied his wrists. "I told you men kneel to me, boy. Kneel before your master." Eddie fell to his knees and found himself gazing at the huge cock, hard as a rock and oozing pre-cum. Hassan wrapped his fist round it and stroked it. "You'll be my boy forever? You'll obey me, serve me, give me your body and you ass whenever I want it? I'll whip you, fuck your mouth, fuck your ass. I'll own you boy. You understand?"

"Yes, sir, please, sir. I want that, sir. I'm your boy, sir." Hassan's breath was heaving, his body flexing hard, black hair falling over his face as he yelled, "Open your mouth, boy. Eddie obeyed ... and felt hot liquid slam into his face and into his mouth. Blinded by jism he gulped frantically, swallowing his master's semen until he thought he would drown. In his delirium he heard the noise, the growing crescendo of cheers and whoops of delight as the crowd erupted into a wild display of admiration.

Hassan reached down and pulled his boy up. He locked his arms round him, picked him up and spun him round and round, his feet flying out behind him. Eddie was laughing ecstatically as he whirled round, with the pure joy of being Hassan's boy. Finally Hassan planted Eddie's feet firmly on the ground beside him and raised his hand like a victorious boxer. "Gentlemen ," Hassan shouted, "This is my boy – my hero and yours." Mike turned up all the lights and the room erupted again, chanting "Ed-dee, Ed-dee, Ed-dee!" while Eddie made an elaborate bow."

When calm was restored the guys filed out and Mike helped Hassan and Eddie clean up. "Shit, guys," he grinned, "that was fucking spectacular. Like I said, those guys will be jacking off to the memory of that for years. Drop in again soon – and next time bring those Aussies with you, especially the stud from the Sydney leather bars. Australians can be real hot."

Hassan and Eddie made a slow progress through the crowd and out to Hassan's jeep. As they drove back to the house they were flying high. "You were awesome, kiddo," Hassan said. "Man, what a fantasy – and in front of all those guys. Now all that's over I'm gonna make love to you real gently – no fantasy, just the real thing, until you fall asleep in my arms. And hey – what Mike said back there – what say we call up your pal Nate and Adam, see if they can come and join us? We'll tell Adam to wear his leather ... he'd be a huge hit in that bar."

"That all sounds great, sir," Eddie said, exhaustion creeping into his voice – "especially that bit about sleeping in your arms." But within seconds he was already asleep, his head resting on Hassan's shoulder, and a smile spread over his face as he began to dream.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 193

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!