A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 196 By Rob Williams
IN THIS CHAPTER:
Rediscovering rough sex, the macho construction worker pins Bob to the bed. "God, I love to hear you beg like that, man – turns me on like crazy." The boys clean the motel room. "They were drawn into the erotic fantasy of the messy room, the heavy odor of sweat and sex hanging in the air." Steve gives unusual therapy. "Randy was forced to watch as the muscular, shirtless gardener ordered Bob to his knees."
Chapter 196 – "Sexual Reunion – Erotic Therapy"
The relationship between Bob and Randy had been shaken to its core. They had separated for several weeks, during which Bob had thought long and hard. He knew that Randy's intermittent anger and savage treatment of him sprang from Randy's insecurity and fear of losing him. A macho boss in all other areas of his life, Randy was out of his depth when it came to a love as passionate as theirs.
But Bob also had his insecurities. He realized that in their time together, the pain and humiliation that Randy had often inflicted on him had, as he put it, "sucked the manhood out of me." In his more muted way Bob was every bit as strong and masterful as Randy, but his masculinity had been smothered by Randy and now he had to re-establish it. So, in a stunning climax in the motel room where they had first met, Bob had subjected Randy to bondage, pain and degradation, even tying him up naked in a humiliating public display like a slave for sale.
Their relationship had endured an agonizing trial of strength yet they had come through the crucible of pain and retribution with their love stronger than ever before. But the underlying dynamic of their relationship had shifted, and when the trial was over they faced each other in their bedroom. The newly rugged Bob with his darkly stubbled jaw excited Randy, and he listened as Bob took the lead.
"I need to say a few things to clear the air – lay a few ground rules if you like. What's happened between us is just between us. As far as the other guys and the boys are concerned you are still the big boss and always will be. Hell, you're a natural leader and nobody can deny that. As for us, I'll still think of you as the rough, macho construction worker who drives me wild with lust. I still want you to fuck me the way you always have – I can't get enough of that – only it has to be because we both want it, not because you've exploded with rage and lost control. It's the rugged alpha male in you that I love. It's just that now there'll be two of us."
"A couple more things. While we were apart Mark was a good friend to me and we had sex several times – hot sex. You know that Mark and I love each other and so we'll be having sex from time to time, with no fear of you losing your temper and beating him up. Within the group you and I can have all the sex we want – and nobody gets jealous, OK?" Randy grinned at him. "OK – just as long as I get to watch you and Mark fuck once in a while. That would be so fucking beautiful."
"And finally," Bob said, "to make sure all this works I want us to have regular therapy sessions with Steve to keep us on the right track. First thing tomorrow we should make an appointment."
"Fuck that shit," Randy bristled. "I don't have to make an appointment to see my own fucking brother!" Bob shot him a warning look and Randy instantly calmed down. "Sorry, man," he grinned sheepishly, "that was the old Randy rearing his head there. And I know what happens when I do that." He looked down at his chest and touched his nipples gingerly. He took Bob's stubbled face in his hands and kissed him gently. "OK, buddy, agreed. But Steve's methods can get pretty wild, so we better be ready for that."
They climbed into bed between the cool white sheets and held each other close, their faces rubbing against each other. Randy pulled back and said, "Oh, that reminds me – I have one condition of my own." His face broke into a grin. "Just don't shave for a while, man. You look so damn hot like that."
"Asshole," Bob smiled. "Come here..."
Throughout his recent pain and suffering Randy had found the strength to endure by thinking of Bob making love to him – "soft, sweet love in the comfort of our own bed," as he later described it. "Man, I wanted so much to feel your cock in my ass." So now here they were in bed between soft sheets and Bob gave him his wish.
He pushed Randy over and wrapped his arms round him from behind. The head of his hard cock pressed between the cheeks of his ass and Randy slowly eased back onto it, feeling it slide gently into him until it came to rest deep inside him. "Aaah," Randy sighed. "Shit, that feels good. Let me feel it, man." Bob grabbed Randy's waist, pushed him away, then pulled him toward him again and onto his cock. After weeks of stubborn separation, culminating in the agonizing confrontation in the motel, Bob and Randy were finally making love again – two dominant but equal masters, one fucking the ass of the other.
Suddenly Randy pulled away and flipped over on his back. "I gotta see you, man, I gotta look at you while you fuck me." Bob knelt between his legs, pushed them back and eased his cock inside him again, gazing into his eyes. As he felt the cock sliding in and out of his ass Randy stared up at the beautiful face – the soft brown eyes, the tousled dark hair, the square stubbled jaw. "Man," he breathed, "you are so fucking gorgeous. I've been such a damn fool. Nothing in the world is better than this ... I love you, man." He narrowed his eyes and everything else faded into shadow. All he saw was the incredible face, all he felt was the shaft gently massaging his ass.
Bob's chiseled body rose and fell above the naked gypsy, and they lost all sense of time as they drifted together into their own private world of quiet harmony. They could have cum many times, but they never wanted it to end. But gradually Bob's expression changed and he pulled his cock out, to Randy's surprise and disappointment. "Randy," Bob said, "you told me that while we were apart you thought all the time of my cock in your ass." He smiled. "Well what the hell do you think was going through my head? The image of a tough construction worker bursting into this room, throwing me on the bed and pounding my ass as only you can. Please, man, I want it so bad. After all that's happened ... I need it."
A glint came into Randy's eyes that Bob knew so well – and he knew what came next. Randy sprang to his knees and pushed Bob roughly onto his back. He pushed one of Bob's legs high in the air, spat in his free hand and rubbed it against Bob's asshole. Then he rubbed his wet hand over his own huge cock. "You see this, man? It belongs in that sweet ass of yours." His voice hardened. "Shit, man, you hurt me bad out there tonight, and no man gets away with stuff like that without getting punished. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes, sir," said Bob, pre-cum oozing from his cock, his heart beating wildly as he stared up at the savage gypsy face. "And you know how I punish a guy, don't you? ... Like this!" He rammed his cock hard into Bob's ass. Bob's eyes opened wide – "aagh" – and he stared up at the macho construction worker with the wild demon face and startling blue eyes, his massive chest still bearing the angry red stripes of the whip. He was magnificent, and he was fucking him ... this was the excitement Bob craved. "Fuck me, sir. Fuck me hard. Punish me, sir."
Randy grinned down at him and growled, "You asked for it, big guy. Hell, I love ploughing the ass of a stud like you. Here it comes ..." It was vintage Randy – ferocious, wild, a stallion driving his huge piece of horsemeat in a hot ass. The first shafts of pain quickly died away and Bob felt a euphoria that only Randy could create. Randy looked down at his shaft driving into the hole and spat down on it. "Oh yeah, man, feel that – feel your master's rod hammering that ass. Yeah...!" He threw his free arm triumphantly in the air like a rider at the rodeo.
Soon he shifted position, threw Bob's legs over his shoulders, leaned forward and clamped Bob's wrists to the bed, piercing him with his penetrating blue eyes, while his cock pistoned in his ass. Their faces were close and Bob could feel Randy's sweat dripping on him, he saw his jaw clench and the muscles of his powerful body flex.
Randy growled, "Now let's cut the bullshit here, man. This is what you crave and we both know it. Feel this ..." he slammed his cock deep into Bob's gut making him howl ... "that's what you need and you always will. You're never gonna leave me, mother-fucker, `cause you can't get this from anyone else. And I sure as hell can't ever leave you because you are so fucking gorgeous and I'm crazy in love with you. Who have we been kidding? ... we're stuck with each other, big guy, so let's cut the crap and enjoy it."
He turned up the tempo and his pile-driver hammered Bob's willing ass. "Show me I'm right, buddy. You know you love me ... show me how much. Come on, stud ... do it now!" His hips pulled back, paused, then fell against the cheeks of his ass, his long pole driving deep into the furnace of his gut. Impaled on the bed, his arms trapped, Bob felt pain flare from his ass and ignite his shuddering body. "I love you, man ... aaagh!" A jet of white juice blasted straight up from his cock and splashed on the slabs of Randy's chest.
Randy didn't move, his cock still buried in Bob's ass. "So, I made you cum, man, like I always can. But my balls are still heavy with juice and my cock is still hard as steel ... here, feel this." And once again his cock pulled back and the fuck resumed, slowly at first, but building in strength as Randy stared at Bob's fearful face. "Yeah, scared now, eh, buddy? My cock can do that to a man, especially when he's just busted his load. Hurts now eh, after you've cum? A while ago you tied me up and made me beg, remember? Now it's your turn. You're a big stud mother-fucker, but I've got you pinned to the bed, my dick up your ass, and I can make you beg ... like this."
Randy's cock became a merciless piston driving into the ravaged ass as he growled, "You want me to shoot inside you, eh? Well you're gonna have to beg for that, big guy, and beg real good. It's the only way the pain will stop." His eyes blazed down at the macho, stubbled face twisting in pain as tears began to flow down Bob's cheeks. "I can't take any more, man," Bob groaned. "Please, the pain in my ass ... please, sir, please cum inside me. I beg you, sir ... you win ... I submit to you, sir. I'm begging you ... please shoot your load in my ass. If you love me, sir, cum inside me."
Suddenly Randy slowed the attack and he smiled down at Bob. "God, I love to hear you beg like that, man – turns me on like crazy. You are so fucking gorgeous – I love the hell out of you buddy, and it's making me do this ..." He stopped still, there was silence, then Bob felt the huge cock pulse inside him and warm juice pour into his ass. Their eyes locked, they saw themselves reflected in each other, and they were joined in a union that transcended all else. The conflict, pain, doubt and fear – it all melted away in the fire of their passion.
"Yes!" Randy howled and fell on Bob, their beautiful bodies entwined as they rolled over and over – kissing, licking, biting in the exhilaration of two glorious men in love. This was the culmination of all the turmoil they had endured, ever since their first meeting in the shabby motel. Their love had been put to the test and they had emerged triumphant.
Actually the climax had been inevitable because, despite the many trials and setbacks, a love story this intense could never really end, could it?
Before dawn the next morning everyone was still sound asleep except for four boys who quietly left the house. The previous night Bob had entrusted Eddie with a mission. "First thing in the morning I'd like you to collect Nate and the twins and drive down to the motel. I want you to clean the stuff out of Randy's room and pay the bill at the office with my credit card here. You and Nate bring the stuff back here while the twins pick up my Mercedes from the parking lot and drive it over to the Beverly Hills Hotel, gather up all my clothes from my bungalow there and check me out at the reception desk. Think you can handle that?"
Of course they could. In the current euphoria of the masters' return to the house the boys were thrilled to do anything for them. They climbed into Nate's truck flushed with the pleasure of being entrusted with a task that would most likely bring an end to this harrowing episode in their lives. And they tingled with the anticipation of finally entering the motel room where so many dramatic events had occurred and where a saga had begun that eventually embraced them all.
Dawn was starting to break as Nate drove the truck over the pot-holed entrance to the parking lot. The four boys climbed out and walked excitedly to Room 14 where Eddie fumbled with the key Bob had given him. Finally the door creaked open, they walked inside – and their jaws sagged open.
First it was the smell that hit them, a heavy odor of sweat and semen still hanging in the air from the night before. "Wow," they said in unison, inhaling the rancid air and feeling their cocks get hard. The place was a mess – the bed sheets rumpled, hanging half off the bed. But it was what was spread over the bed and on the floor that made them gasp. "Look, mates," said Nate, staring wide-eyed at the floor. Randy's black bag was lying open with leather paraphernalia spilling out of it – restraints, ropes, collars, whips ...
Tangled in the sheets on the bed were Randy's old work jeans and sweaty tank that he had stripped off before Bob had got there. Nate picked up the tank and saw that it was ripped and striped not only with dirt but with traces of blood. The boys knew, from what Mark had told Jamie, that Randy had got into a drunken brawl at the bar, had been arrested, then bailed out by Mark who had brought him back here. Lengths of ropes hung round the bedposts, apparently used by Bob to tie Randy to the bed.
"Hey, dudes, look at this," said Kyle, picking up a length of cotton fabric twisted into what had been used as a gag. He shook it out and saw that it was the shredded remains of an old white tank that the twins knew had been Bob's. "Must've got ripped while Bob was working Randy over," said Kevin. Eddie was poking around and suddenly his eyes opened in disbelief. "Hey, guys – what the fuck...?" He held in his hand a leather hood. "What's this for?"
Nate had learned a thing of two about leather from Adam and said, "It's a hood. Bob must have put it on Randy." He took it from Eddie, smelled inside it and recoiled. "Wow, Randy's face must have been covered in jism and sweat. You know what happened, mates? Bob must have blasted a load in Randy's face while he was tied up, then put this over his head and face. Shit, that must have been awesome for the boss – no sight, no sound, only the stink of his own sweat and Bob's jizz. Just try to imagine what that's like, mates."
It wasn't hard to imagine as the hood was passed from hand to hand and each boy in turn held it open to his face, inhaling deeply. Their cocks were rigid now as they were transported back to what the room must have looked like as the two bodybuilders were locked in a trial of pain and retribution, the naked gypsy muscle-god bound and whipped by the rugged Superman.
In the fetid air of the room the boys felt a mix of sexual arousal and giddy excitement, knowing that this was the scene of the macho ordeal that had culminated in the men's reunion. Impulsively Eddie jumped onto the bed and sat with his back resting against the head board. That spurred Nate on to join him and they sat shoulder to shoulder reaching up and grabbing the rail at the top of the headboard trying to imagine what Randy must have looked and felt like.
"Man, what must Randy have been thinking when he stared up at Bob in that ragged tank, with his stubbled jaw, about to work him over," Nate said to the twins. "Hey mates, you're Bob's boys. You must know how it feels." The twins glanced at each other, as always reading each other's thoughts. They pulled off their shirts and shorts and picked up from the bed the two torn tank tops. Kyle pulled on Randy's old tank and Kevin put on Bob's.
They climbed onto the bed and stood astride Nate and Eddie, who gazed up at them in awe. The brothers were naked except for the shredded tanks that hung loosely on them, which only seemed to accentuate the muscles of their lithe young bodies. Their cocks stood out straight as poles and they had a fierce look in their eyes that the boys had never seen before. All the boys in the house instinctively tried to be like their masters and now the twins were imitating the newly rugged alpha male that Bob had become. "Hell, you really are Bob's boys," Nate said. "You gonna work us over like Bob did Randy?"
"You bet your life we are," growled Kyle. He and Kevin picked up from the bed several lengths of rope, leaned forward and used them to tie Nate and Eddie's wrists loosely to the top rail of the headboard. It was only symbolic bondage – the guys could have pulled their wrists free – but it was enough to send a thrill through them, imagining how Randy must have strained to get free on this very bed.
All of Eddie's fantasies came alive and he fell easily into the role of a bound captive. As he looked up at the twins he imagined how Bob must have seemed to Randy and said with feigned nervousness, "What you gonna do to us?" Without replying the twins fell forward and grabbed the same top rail the boys were tied to, with their feet planted between the boys' legs. Keeping their bodies stiff, the twins stretched at an angle above Nate and Eddie, their cocks pointing straight at their faces as the boys sat with their heads resting back against the headboard.
"Open your mouths," said Kyle. When the boys resisted the twins kicked them lightly in the balls. "We said, open you mouths," growled Kevin and this time Nate and Eddie obeyed. They were amazed to see the twins begin what looked like a series of push-ups against the rail. Their biceps flexing they bent their arms, lowering their bodies and their cocks toward the captives. With perfect aim the cocks slid into the mouths – Kyle into Nate's, Kevin into Eddie's. Then their arms pushed hard against rail, the cocks eased back, then lunged in again.
Both Nate and Eddie had eaten cock many times before – Eddie was the acknowledged house expert – but they had never been face-fucked like this before. The sight of the beautiful, identical twins doing push-ups in perfect unison against the headboard mesmerized the boys. The bodies rose and fell above them, the cocks sliding in and out of their mouths. Wearing only the torn tanks of the masters the twins looked stunning, losing the gentleness they copied from Bob and assuming instead his new-found ruggedness. "You feel that," Kyle snarled. "Eat that meat, boy. And you kid, suck my brother's cock good or you're balls are gonna get hurt bad."
The boys pulled at the ropes as if trying to get free, just as Randy must have strained his muscular body to escape the pain he was suffering from Bob. Deep into the fantasy, Eddie was in heaven, doing what he did best and liked most – giving head. And Nate was swimming in a succession of images – first Adam fucking his face as he did so often, then Bob and now Kyle. The twins picked up the pace and the old bed rocked and creaked under the frenzied boys, the air filled with the sounds of slurping, heavy breathing and gasps of ecstasy. Their cocks were shuddering, seconds away from orgasm ... when suddenly the twins pulled out.
Kyle shouted, "Not like this guys ... we gotta leave our mark on this room." They leapt off the bed, slid the boys' hands from the ropes and pulled them up beside them. "Look at that," Kevin said, as the four of them stared down at the rumpled bed. "That's where it all started. That's where Bob and Randy first slept, that's where Randy tortured Bob and where, just last night, Bob took his revenge. We gotta pay tribute in the way we know best."
The twins pulled off the tank tops, threw them down and began stroking their cocks. Nate said, "Wait a minute, mates. What about these tanks? They're no use to the guys anymore so we should take them ... but who's gonna get what?" Eddie shouted excitedly, "I know – a cum contest. We'll jerk off over the bed and whoever shoots the farthest gets first choice."
"Brilliant," said Nate. "OK, mates, let's give this bed what it deserves." Immediately four boys, standing shoulder to shoulder, gazing down at the bed, began frantically to pound their meat. After the euphoria of the blow jobs it took only seconds. "I'm cumming," shouted Eddie as a ribbon of juice shot from his cock, landing halfway across the bed. Instantly Nate blasted his load, which landed right beside Eddie's.
The twins turned to each other, smiled, and their faces came together in a warm, fraternal kiss. That did it. Their bodies shuddered, their lips ground together, and in perfect unison twin streams of juice shot from their cocks, rose high in the air, and splashed down at the far side of the bed. Nate grabbed Kyle's wrist and raised it in the air – "The winners!" The boys all erupted into joyful laughter, all the fear and tension of the past week finding release in their playful exhilaration – not to mention four spectacular orgasms.
The twins naturally chose Bob's ripped tank as a memento of all that had happened here, and Nate and Eddie took Randy's shirt, erotically stained with dirt, sweat and blood. They quickly repacked the leather gear into Randy's black bag and gathered up Randy's work clothes.
At the door they looked back at the shabby room with its messy bed, peeling paint and torn blinds. Decrepit as it was they looked on the room as a shrine – redolent of man sex, with its smell of sweat and semen and the vibrations of extraordinary men grappling in a sexual trial of strength that would bind them forever. It was the crucible in which their story was forged.
The boys departed in silence and locked the door of Room 14 behind them.
Nate and Eddie paid the bill at the motel office to the bored-looking clerk, then drove off in Nate's truck with the spoils of Room 14. The twins slid respectfully into the soft leather of Bob's Mercedes and drove across town to the Beverly Hills Hotel where Bob had been staying. This was the other side of Bob, wildly different from the savage disciplinarian he had been in the motel. This was the world of the refined, successful business executive, admired and respected – and the bungalow room the twins walked into at the hotel was as radically different from the run-down motel as two rooms could be.
The bungalow oozed luxury and as the twins looked down at the bed, remade immaculately by a maid, they knew what they wanted. This was the bed Bob had slept in and made love on with Mark. So, to shake off the grime of the motel and re-connect with this more refined image of their master, the brothers climbed into the bed and made love, fucking each other in turn until they shot their second load of the early morning. They packed up all of Bob's clothes, paid his bill at reception and drove off in the Mercedes. They had never felt so at peace, knowing that Bob and Randy were reunited and that their own place in the house they loved was secure.
Actually, when they got back to the house their place there had been temporarily taken over by Nate, Eddie and Jamie. Today being Sunday the house stirred late and breakfast became brunch, a more elaborate meal than the usual workday breakfast and served closer to noon. By prior arrangement the other three boys had made a start in the kitchen while the twins were busy in Beverly Hills, but now they assumed their usual role of kings of the kitchen.
Jamie returned eagerly to his room where he knew Mark would be stirring and reaching for what he always needed in the morning – Jamie's ass. The houseboys, Nate and Eddie, began the elaborate ritual of setting up the long table by the pool where the tribe always gathered for meals. It was going to be a crowd today, not only because it was Sunday, but because word had gone round (thanks largely to Darius and his `megaphone mouth' as Randy called it) that Bob and Randy were back and fears of the group's breakup were, it seemed, put to rest.
So Nate and Eddie were on hand to welcome first Jason, Adam and Hassan. The Marine folded his arms round Eddie and smiled, "Missed you last night, kiddo. You'll just have to make it up to me later today. Think you can get off work early?" Eddie grinned. "You bet, sir. Looks as if Nate and Adam have the same idea," nodding at the Aussies who were in a fierce hug.
Steve and Lloyd came in next, as the rest of the guys began trickling out of the house. Mario was there too, having taken his vacation from his job as hotel waiter to support Jamie in the office during Bob's absence. Soon they were all sitting round the table over coffee in a buzz of exuberant conversation, with everyone catching up on the fast-moving events of the day before. Mark and Jamie were late arrivals, with Jamie pulling on his shirt and blushing. "Hi, guys, what kept you?" teased Zack, unleashing a round of wolf whistles and lewd suggestions.
By this time the twins were bringing out the food and Steve said, "So you say Bob and Randy are back in the house? Where are they, then – making some kind of dramatic late entrance?" Zack laughed, "Nah, just fucking their brains out would be my guess – first day back together and all. Takes those guys a long time to say hello."
"Someone taking our name in vain?" came a loud, deep voice. All heads turned to the door through which Randy and Bob had just emerged, their arms round each other's shoulder. An awed silence fell over the group. The men looked spectacular – two muscle-gods dressed alike in blue jeans and clean white T-shirts stretched over their muscular torsos, each of them sporting a growth of stubble on their square jaws. They looked so alike they could almost have been brothers and there was a definite glow about them. The only signs of their recent conflict were the fading marks of the whip on Randy's arms.
The group gazed in silent awe at the tableau of the two men, but the silence was suddenly broken by young Eddie who sprang up impulsively from his seat and yelled, "Yeah!" and began clapping and cheering. Hassan stood up beside him, amused by his boy's youthful high spirits, and joined in his applause. Immediately all the men and boys were on their feet in a standing ovation, and as Bob and Randy approached they were engulfed in effusive handshakes and hugs from the men.
When calm was eventually restored Randy sat took his place at the head of the table with Bob on his right. Bob banged his fork against his water glass and there was instant silence. "Guys I know you're all dying to dig into this terrific meal the twins have cooked but I did wanna say a couple of things. First, I want to apologize to you all for causing all the anxiety and uncertainty of the last couple of weeks about the future of our family. Randy and I just want you to know that the trauma is over and the tribe is stronger than ever. We thank you for your patience and support, and I would like to say a personal thanks to Mario for giving up his vacation to help Jamie keep the office running while I was gone."
Another burst of applause and whistles erupted as Bob ended his remarks, but they died down as Randy raised his hand for silence. This was the moment they had waited for. Late last night they had watched the extraordinary sight of a naked, whip-marked Randy being pulled by Bob into the house in humiliating submission, a rope attached to his leather collar. Bob had clearly tamed him, so they were now all agog to know how much Randy had changed.
Not much, it seemed. What had happened between him and Bob was, apparently, entirely between them. One of Randy's qualities as a leader was his remarkable resilience after being beaten and bruised in a fight – his ability to rebound and resume his role as leader. He had taken his place at the head of the table as a matter of course and he now made no mention of past events, looking only to the future.
"OK," he said, his voice as firm and authoritative as ever. "Speaking of Mario, I assume that you are now gonna make your temporary position with us permanent, young man, which means we'll be going ahead with the project I mentioned before – building the new three-bedroom apartment for Eddie, Ben and Mario. I won't have any member of this group living in makeshift accommodation."
"Now, Lloyd, I know you've been drawing up plans, so what I'd like is for you, Zack and me to discuss them ... and I want input from the three boys to make sure we're giving them what they need. I want construction to being right away, with help naturally from Pablo, Darius and Ben, and even Eddie and Nate when possible, if that's agreeable to you, Hassan and Adam. They're your boys after all so you make the decisions there. OK, that's all I have to say for now, except that I'm fucking starving, so let's eat."
As Randy tucked into his meal Bob looked at Mark and grinned. The boss was back, full bore, but they had glimpsed the change in him when he deferred to Hassan and Adam, something his bluster would have ignored before. As the lively conversations resumed Bob said quietly to Steve, who was facing him, "Steve, there is one other important thing. Randy and I would like to have regular therapy sessions with you just to make sure things keep running smoothly."
"Great," said Steve, "just what I was waiting for. As you know, I couldn't get involved professionally until you approached me, so now let's go for it. I always recommend starting right away while the issues are fresh in your mind, so how about this afternoon? Lloyd's gonna be working in the garden on some landscaping, so if you guys come by the house we can have our first session in my home office. How's that sound?"
"Sounds perfect," Bob smiled. "Excellent," Steve said. "OK with you, Randy?"
With his mouth full of food Randy said, rather sullenly, "Yeah, yeah, whatever Bob says."
Steve grinned and raised his eyebrows in surprise at Bob. There was no doubt that Randy was still the big boss of the tribe and always would be, but when it came to Bob and Randy the big boss no longer ruled the roost. Not anymore.
It was late afternoon of the same day when Bob and Randy, still in jeans and T-shirts, sat together on a couch in Steve's comfortable home office. Facing them Steve, in slacks and a white shirt and tie, sat with his legs crossed and a clipboard on his lap. The two guys had not spoken much on the drive up to Steve and Lloyd's Mulholland house. Bob knew that Randy basically resented therapy sessions with his brother, a year younger than Randy, as the self-assured therapist was definitely in charge.
In fact Randy always felt a bit like a fish out of water around these two professionals – Doctor Steve and the architect Lloyd, whom Randy had once disparaged as having "college degrees up his ass." Though it was a far different Lloyd they had glimpsed as they came in, working shirtless in the garden, his muscular body sweating as he pulled up shrubs from the hard earth.
Steve sensed Randy's discomfort and muted resentment so he trod carefully. "OK, guys, what I want first is to hear each of your stories of this recent separation. As I understand it, you Bob were holed up in the Beverly Hills Hotel and Randy was in that notorious motel. So Bob, why don't you go first?"
And so Bob told his story, going into detail of what had precipitated the breakup and the complex feelings that had troubled him. Randy's account was more earthy, liberally laced with fucks' and bullshits.' Steve did not interrupt them, busy writing notes throughout, and when the stories were over he allowed a moment of silence for their passions to simmer down.
"OK," Steve said at last. "Now let's stipulate that you both love each other deeply and, while you come from totally different backgrounds, you have a lot in common – both gorgeous men, universally admired, both opinionated alpha males. But that inevitably leads to competitiveness and conflict. And in my experience problems like these almost always come from insecurity."
"So you first, Bob. What I hear in you is a feeling that Randy's possessive behavior toward you makes you feel less of a man, belittled and often humiliated. What was the term you used? ... `Randy sucked the manhood out of me'. Which is why you decided to butch up your image. But I gotta say that it takes more than rough clothes and a two-week stubble to make a man. Let me ask you this. Last night when you saw Randy tied up naked, whipped and humiliated, did that make him look less of a man to you – or more?"
Bob's reply was immediate. "Much more of a man. He looked magnificent as he suffered – a real man's man."
"There you go then – naked, beaten – and yet a spectacular picture of manhood. Now you, Randy. We've known for a long time that your insecurity comes from your loving Bob. He comes from a much more privileged and sophisticated background than yours and you're scared to death he'll leave you. And God forbid he should feel attracted to another man. That's why you've always tried to control him by force – often brute force. So Bob, what's the most brutal thing Randy ever did to you?"
"Hmm," Bob pondered. "I guess the time he tied me naked to the back off his truck and dragged me over the burning sand of the desert."
"And why did you do that, Randy?"
Randy's eyes blazed for a second. "Because I caught him and Lloyd after they had spent the night together in a hotel fucking. Drove me fucking crazy."
Steve smiled to himself – he had often heard this story from Lloyd himself. "Right, it's all coming together. You, Bob, need to learn that you can retain your manhood, lose none of your virility even when you get worked over. And you, Randy, need to learn that just because Bob gets fucked by another guy doesn't diminish his love for you one bit and certainly doesn't mean he's gonna desert you.
He smiled in a self-satisfied way and they looked at him expectantly. He didn't disappoint. "OK, I think I have just the solution – and you both know that my methods can be unorthodox." He stood up, opened the door and shouted, "Hey, Lloyd. Would you mind coming in here, buddy, and helping us out for a while?" They heard footsteps and there, standing in the doorway, backlit by the setting sun, was Lloyd, stripped to the waist in dirty, ragged jeans and boots, his handsome face and perfect, gym-honed body smeared with dirt and sweat from his toil in the garden.
"What can I do for you guys?" he grinned. He looked spectacular, reminding Randy of the first time he met the elegant, preppy hunk and decided to `dirty him up a bit', giving him all the messy jobs to do on the construction site until his clothes were ripped and he had mud and oil smeared over his perfect body. Noting Randy's and Bob's reaction Steve asked, "Lloyd, you always told me that you find Bob a huge turn-on, isn't that so?"
"Hell yes," Lloyd grinned, "who wouldn't? The man's a god. Shit, I've got a boner in my jeans just looking at him."
"Good, I hoped you would say that, buddy, `cause I want you to fuck him."
There was a stunned silence and Randy half rose from the couch in protest until Steve waved him back down. "Stay put, Randy. This is called therapy. I want Lloyd to fuck Bob on the floor in front of you, while I note your reactions. And to add a little spice I want you all to imagine a scenario where this gorgeous, hot, sweaty gardener comes into the house, throws the homeowner on the floor and fucks the shit out of him while the owner's lover is forced to watch."
"See, what I'm trying to prove is that Bob can get seduced and fucked by a laborer without losing an ounce of his manhood. And Randy, that you can be comfortable watching your lover get fucked by another stud, even if he is just the gardener."
"This is bullshit!" Randy's eyes blazed as he leapt to his feet. "Come on, Bob, let's get the hell out of here." Bob stood up and faced him coolly. "No, Randy. I'm man enough to get fucked if you're man enough to sit and watch." Randy glared at him for a moment, but the challenge of Bob's determined gaze made him sit down, growling, "What the fuck... whatever."
Bob turned and stared at the shirtless hunk – the gardener maybe – at any rate a man who made his dick get hard. It wasn't hard to be seduced by a man like this. Lloyd walked up to him and ran his hands over Bob's T-shirt, feeling his rock-hard chest underneath and squeezing his tits gently through the thin cotton. Then he pressed his bare, dirt-caked chest against Bob's clean T-shirt and kissed him hard, so Bob smelt and tasted the sweat on Lloyd's face.
Lloyd eased back, pulled Bob's T-shirt up over his head and tossed it on the ground in front of Randy. Lloyd stared at the shirtless muscle-god, stripped down to just blue-jeans and boots. "Man, that looks spectacular," Lloyd breathed. Again he ran his hands over the hard-muscled chest and twisted his nipples between his fingers. Bob rolled his head back and moaned, instinctively clasping his hands behind his back.
Lloyd stepped back, unzipped his own pants, pulled out his already stiff cock and began stroking it. "On your knees, stud." Bob obeyed, falling to his knees with his hands behind his back. This was too much for Randy and again he half-rose from the couch, only to catch Steve's piercing gaze that made him reluctantly sit back down.
As Steve scribbled notes on his clipboard this was agony for Randy on two levels. He couldn't help buying into the fantasy of having to watch the handsome stud gardener sexually dominating his employer – Randy's lover. Even worse was the reality of Bob kneeling to the muscular architect who Randy had always slightly resented and enjoyed "dirtying up". But he knew this was a test set by Steve and he never backed down from a challenge. So he forced himself to watch the unfolding drama before him.
Bob was gazing up in awe at Lloyd, the macho, shirtless gardener, sweat running down his sculpted chest, streaking it with dirt. Lloyd reached forward, put his hand behind Bob's head and pulled his face forward onto his long rod, sliding it slowly into Bob's mouth and down his throat. Randy flinched as he saw Bob gag, but Lloyd immediately pushed Bob's head back, then pulled it forward again, beginning a slow and erotic face-fuck.
For the first time Randy felt his dick stir. The image of a gorgeous man, a Superman, on his knees being forced to suck the gardener's stinking cock was such a turn-on that Randy reflexively ran his hand over his own now-bulging crotch. Steve smiled to himself and made a note on his pad.
The sight of the beautiful face impaled on his cock was bringing Lloyd close to orgasm so he pulled out, leaving Bob tear-stained and gasping. Fully immersed in the fantasy, Lloyd assumed the role of the lusty gardener. "You're always the arrogant boss, aren't you, sir, looking down on the filthy gardener on his knees in the dirt? Well now it's you on your knees, sir, sucking the gardener's big dick – and loving it! And now the gardener's gonna fuck your hot ass."
He walked round behind Bob and shoved him forward onto his hands and knees. Bob raised his head and found himself staring into a floor length mirror on the opposite wall that Steve and Lloyd often used in their sex games. But Bob was no longer thinking of Steve and Lloyd. He had been consumed by the fantasy of the homeowner being forced to kneel on the floor and submit his ass to the handsome, muscular gardener while his lover was forced to watch. Bob's cock throbbed as he gazed up at the shirtless, dirt-covered man towering over him.
Lloyd dropped to his knees behind Bob, reached round him, ripped open his jeans and pulled them down over his ass. "Oh, yeah," he said as he leaned forward, spread the cheeks and buried his face between them. He licked and slurped, then pushed his tongue deep into the musky hole while Bob groaned in ecstasy. He massaged the warm membrane with his tongue, then pulled out to forestall his own orgasm and Bob's. He reached forward, grabbed Bob's tousled dark hair, pulled his head back and they both gazed into the mirror.
"OK, what do you want, man? What d'you want the gardener to do to you?" Bob moaned, "I want you to fuck my ass." Lloyd had a fair idea of how far Steve wanted him to go, so he barked, "Call me `sir'." Bob obeyed. "Yes, sir, please ... please fuck me, sir." Bob looked at his own sculpted features with the stubbled chin, the rugged face of an alpha top-man ... and that's what he was. The fact that he was begging the gardener to fuck his ass did not diminish his masculinity – he was too sure of himself for that. In every sense he was a man's man – one stud getting fucked by another – which made the scene even hotter.
He felt the head of the cock touch the spit-slicked hole of his ass, felt the pressure increase until, "aaah", he sighed as the gardener's pole slid deep inside him and began to fuck. Sensing that Randy was on a knife edge Steve moved over and sat beside him on the couch, whispering softly into his ear. "That looks so hot, don't you think, bro? Man, look at that big stud gardener fucking that gorgeous man's ass. And the guy is so getting off on it."
Steve paused, hoping for the right reaction ... and he got it. "Yeah," Randy breathed, "that is fucking hotter `n a pistol. Shit that is so fucking beautiful. And that's my man there, bro, my man getting fucked and loving it. Makes me feel good when my man's feeling good."
Steve shifted his emphasis, letting the gardener fantasy fade back to reality. "How do you feel about Lloyd fucking Bob, Randy? Do you want to stop it and punish Lloyd?" Randy was staring at the men mesmerized. "Hell no – it looks so fucking hot I wanna join in."
Bingo, Steve thought. "So go for it, man. Don't punish Lloyd – thank him – make him feel good." Randy didn't need telling twice. He stood up, pulled off his T-shirt, yanked open his pants and let them fall round his ankles. He knelt behind Lloyd and did what Lloyd had done to Bob – reached round and pulled his pants down over his ass. He spat in his hand and stroked his cock. Then, in typical Randy style he plunged it into Lloyd's ass. Lloyd yelled, his whole body tensed and his cock drove deeper into Bob, making him howl.
Bob was stunned by the sight in the mirror of Randy, his Randy, pounding the ass of the man who was fucking him. He saw the gleam in Randy's eyes and they smiled at each other in the mirror. They had reached a new level of closeness – no inhibitions, no fear or punishment – just a hell of a great time with another guy. As Randy and Lloyd fucked in unison Steve beamed with satisfaction. His technique – wildly unorthodox though it was – had worked better than he could have hoped.
But Steve was not just an analytical therapist. He was every inch a man, a gorgeous muscle-stud in his own right – and he was Randy's brother. As he watched the incredible scene he tossed his clipboard aside and stood up. He stroked the bulge in his pants, opened his fly and pulled out his rigid cock. "Yeah," he said to himself. "Why not? Why shouldn't the doctor join in the fun?"
He tore off his shirt and tie and knelt behind Randy who looked up at him in the mirror. Randy was having the time of his life and he smiled broadly at Steve. "Go for it, Steve. What's a brother's ass for, after all?" Steve pushed his cock between the globes of Randy's ass and plunged it in. The room rang with the ecstatic howls of four men as they quickly found their rhythm – a chain reaction flowing through their bodies as man fucked man in perfect unison.
By now Lloyd's cock was roaring hot, having fucked Bob's face and now his ass for some time. He knew he had to bring things to a head ... but Steve, intuitive as always, did it for him. Taking a page out of Randy's sexual playbook he pulled his rod all the way out of his brother's ass, paused, then slammed it ferociously into the hot inner depths. "Aaagh" Randy screamed, his body bucked and a shockwave surged through all the men, cresting in Bob's ass.
The blowback was just as sudden. Bob blasted a rope of cum onto the floor, clenching his ass tight, making Lloyd explode inside him, instants before Lloyd felt Randy's massive load fill his ass. Steve, like the engineer driving the train, pumped his arms in the air and whooped in triumph as he flooded his brother's ass with hot semen. Steve fell forward, pushing the rest of them into a heap on the floor, four beautiful men rolling together in a jubilant mass of writhing manhood, kissing, licking, pressing muscle against muscle.
But finally their frenzy abated and they pulled apart. When at last they were on their feet Randy shook Steve's hand firmly and pulled him into a warm embrace. "Thanks, man," he said. "You threw away the textbook on that one – but hell, it sure worked. I'm proud to call you brother." Steve's therapy had been a wild success. Trust and confidence had been restored, insecurities dispelled – with nobody's manhood being lost along the way.
The California Board of Psychology would not have approved. But even they, surely, would have had to admit that the scene had been spectacular – if somewhat unorthodox.
During the next few days it took a while for the dust to settle and for the everyday routine to be restored. Darius immediately convened a meeting of the boys where they swapped stories of the dramatic events – Eddie, Nate and the twins being the stars when they related the wild scene at the motel. With the help of Jamie and Mario in the office Bob ensured that the construction company had not taken a financial hit, while Randy and Zack huddled with Lloyd, going over plans for construction of the new apartment.
When the drama had come to its climax the group breathed a collective sigh of relief – except for two of its members. Pablo and Ben, fiercely loyal to Randy, had been shattered by the sight their master, bruised and whip-marked, being led naked through the house by a rope attached to the collar round his neck, stumbling after Bob in humiliating surrender. The rest of the guys were focused on the well-being and survival of the tribe but Pablo and Ben had a narrower focus – Randy.
Pablo, as Randy's adopted son, proudly describe himself as "the boss's boy." Ben had picked up on Pablo's hubris and, as Randy's young brother, thought of himself as being something special. So there was no way they could accept the concept of Randy being in any way diminished. He was the boss, he always would be, and if he had to use his fists to prove it, so much the better. And if he didn't – they would.
They had no concept of the nuances that had been at play between Bob and Randy – all the talk of what makes a real man. To them, Randy was a dominant man because he was tough, ruthless, and could beat any man into the ground. And if anyone thought differently, Pablo and Ben would deal with them. All the boys tended to model themselves on their masters and Pablo and Ben took this to a macho extreme. They were now tighter than ever and thought of themselves and Randy as a fierce tribe of three – against all the rest.
Plans went ahead for the construction of the new apartment for Ben, Eddie and Mario, a priority project for Randy. A preliminary task was to prepare the site by pulling down the existing sheds and clearing out all the trash. It was a simple job and the boys eagerly volunteered. Randy agreed to let them do it themselves and, as Pablo and Ben were already experienced young construction workers, he nominated them to supervise the other boys.
That was his mistake.
TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 197
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!