A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH ... Part 22 By Rob Williams

The rugged construction worker Randy and the muscle-god cop Mark finally get to know each other as men. For the first time in his life Mark gives his ass to another man. And then we are at last introduced to Pablo, an exotic-looking young man who will play a major role in our story.

Let me know what you think of all this at rw67689@aol.com. Now read on ... and enjoy!

A Trial Of Strength ... Part 22

The three muscle studs in the house could not shake the intense images of the incredible cop, Mark, the Nordic god who had blazed through their life. They thought they would never see him again ... but they were wrong. Late one night Mark found himself at their door seeking refuge. He had discovered that his girlfriend has been having an affair with another cop, his best friend.

He told Randy, "I beat the shit out of him and got the hell out of there."

He paused, looking at the muscular, swarthy construction worker and hesitated. "Look, I'm sorry man, I shouldn't have come here. I was so fucking angry I just drove and found myself here. I wasn't thinking straight. I'll go."

"The hell you will," said Randy. "You came to the right place. Come here." He pulled the cop forward in a bear hug and whispered in his ear, "God, I've missed you, man."

"I know. Me too."

"What'll you do now?"

"I'll leave first thing in the morning. I need to feel my bike underneath me, need to ride fast. I know a place way out in the desert, a great place to get lost and think."

Randy hesitated and looked Mark in the eyes. "You want company?"

"I was kinda hoping you might say that." Mark smiled. "I do have two bikes, and a spare helmet. Think you can handle a Harley?"

"Asshole," Randy grinned. "Man, we're gonna have a hell of a ride."

The only place for Mark to sleep that night had been in the bed of the beautifully sculpted young black man, Darius, who imagined he was having the erotic dream of all time sleeping next to this Greek god. When Mark woke in the morning the bed was empty. But soon, as Mark lay stretching on the bed, the door opened and Darius came in carrying a heavy tray.

"Breakfast," he grinned.

Anxious to please this stunning cop he had put together a huge cooked meal.

"Gee, thanks," Mark said, realizing how hungry he was. Darius sat on the bed and gazed at him as he ate. Mark decided to run something by him.

"I wanted to ask you something. I need to get out of town and I might go away for a few days with Randy. You know them both. Do you think Bob will be OK with that?"

"Don't sweat it," Darius said. "Those two guys don't worry about stuff like that. They're so tight a bolt of lightning couldn't split them apart. Besides," he grinned, "it'll give Bob and me the chance to spend some time together."

"And you like the idea of that."

"You betcha!"

"By the way, I'm sorry I barged in on your last night," Mark said. "Randy told me I could bunk in with you.

"It was a pleasure," grinned Darius. "A real pleasure."

"If there's anything I can do to return the favor..."

Darius stood up nervously. "Well, there kind of is."

"Name it."

"This'll sound weird, I know. But you don't have to do anything ... Just lie there and I ... well ..."

"What?"

In a rush Darius mumbled, "I really, really wanna jerk off looking at you."

"And what do I do?"

"Nothing. Just lie there. You can close your eyes if you want. You're just so fucking gorgeous and I can't believe you're actually in my bed. I want to get off looking at you while you're still there."

Mark smiled at the eager young face. "Then go for it," he said. "And to make it more interesting ... " He reached beside the bed pulled his mirrored sunglass from his pocket. He put them on lay back with his hands behind his head.

"Now you won't know if my eyes are open or closed. So go ahead. Knock yourself out."

Darius could hardly believe the sight of this muscle god stretched out before him, wearing just his white boxers. With his unruly blond hair, square-cut features and the most incredibly muscular body Darius had ever seen he was more like a fantasy drawing than a real man. The trembling black man reached down, dropped his shorts and his huge 10-inch cock reared up. He began stroking it.

His breathing became heavy as he ran his eyes up and down the gloriously chiseled body. He would dream of this and jerk off to the memory many times in the future. But for now the man was actually here and Darius felt his cock throbbing. He wanted this to last as long as he could.

Behind his glasses, Mark's eyes were open .... wide. Although he had always been straight, considering himself a regular guy, a working cop, he had always got off at the sight of a beautiful man ... and without doubt Darius was gorgeous. The sinews of his muscles rippled under his smooth coffee-colored skin as he stroked his meat, and his almond-shaped green eyes gazed intensely down at the bed. Darius was using both hands on his enormous cock, one near the head, and the other at the base.

"Wait," Mark said softly as he felt his own cock stir in his shorts. "Do you want me to make you shoot your load?"

"Yes, sir. Please."

"But not until I give you permission."

Darius could not believe his eyes at what came next. Leaving one hand behind his head, Mark took off his glasses with the other hand and let them fall. Then he reached down to his shorts and pulled out his cock, already hard as a rod. He began to stroke it.

Mesmerized by the sight of this glorious naked cop stroking his meat Darius knew he could not hold back much longer. He felt the pressure build in his cock as his orgasm approached.

"Please, sir. I'm real close," he gasped.

"Me, too," Mark breathed as he pumped his cock faster. "God you're beautiful. You're making me cum. OK, man. Now you can shoot."

Mark watched as Darius's body flexed and shuddered and the head flew back in a spasm of lust. "Aaah!" Darius yelled as his cock pulsed and a huge stream of hot liquid arced high in the air and splashed down on the hard slabs of the cop's gleaming chest. Again and again the jets of semen sprayed down on the glorious body, until the muscles were bathed with creamy white cum

The sight was too much for Mark, whose own cock exploded and his semen streamed over his body, already soaked in white juice. The two exhausted men gazed at each other in total exhilaration. Finally their breathing subsided and Mark smiled up at the trembling man.

"Did that take care of it, Darius?"

"Oh, man. That was unbelievable. I'll remember that always. You are one hell of a man."

Mark jumped up.

"Join me in the shower? You can soap me up."

"Yes, sir. You betcha!"

A short time later Mark was sitting with Randy at the kitchen table and Bob came in. Again, Mark gave a silent gasp as he looked at Randy's lover. Wearing dress pants and shoes but still shirtless Bob was getting dressed for work. Fresh from the shower his perfectly sculpted torso gleamed as the stunning face smiled down at Mark. He knew the effect he was having as he slowly pulled on his starched white shirt, buttoned it over his bulging chest and then put on his tie.

Mark cleared his throat nervously. "Look, Bob. Are you sure you're OK with Randy and me getting out of town for a day or two? 'Cause if you have any problem with it I'll back off."

Bob smiled. "And deprive this asshole of your company? Just be careful ... he can be a real prick sometimes. Don't get on his bad side."

"Fuck you," Randy grinned.

"I figure you two still have a few things to work out," Bob said. "And when you get back there'll be time for you and me to get to know each other better, Mark. If you would like."

"I would like," Mark smiled. "I'll look forward to it."

Randy said, "I've just been down to the construction site and cleared things with Jack. He'll take over for me. And I've already strapped some gear onto the bikes, so I guess we're all set."

Bob walked them out to the two Harleys. Darius joined them and watched in awe as they straddled the bikes. Randy, the dark, swarthy muscle stud, was dressed in jeans, boots and a black tank top under a leather vest. Mark, the stunning blond, was wearing the clothes he had on when he arrived ... black jeans, boots and an old torn gray T-shirt that stretched tightly across his torso.

Randy grinned at Bob and Darius. "Take care of each other," he said. "And I mean that in every sense of the word."

The two bikers strapped on their helmets, kick-started their powerful machines into life and roared away.

They rode fast, side by side heading east on Interstate 10. As the wind roared past them, both felt free, exhilarated to be close to each other, reveling in each other's raw masculinity. Competitive as ever, they challenged each other as their speed increased.

They made three stops on the way out to the desert ... and the first one was not by choice. They were roaring through Bloomington, a small community on I-10 in the industrial wastelands, when they both became aware of a cop car racing behind them lights flashing, siren blaring.

"Shit," yelled Mark and they both pulled over to the shoulder. The black and white pulled in behind them and a cop got out and swaggered up to them.

"License, please sir," he said.

Mark pulled out his police ID and flashed it to the cop, whose whole attitude changed instantly.

"Hey, sorry man. I had no idea. Just trying to fill my quota."

"Yeah, I know how that goes. Slow day?"

"Until you two roared by. Where you headed?"

'A place I know in the high desert. Way up the canyon."

The cop looked over at Randy, astride his bike right next to Mark.

"Oh, he's with me," Mark grinned. "My best buddy," and he threw his arm over Randy's shoulder. When he heard Mark say this Randy was amazed to fell his cock stiffen. The cop took a step back and gazed at them, two of the most stunningly macho men he had ever seen.

"Jeez, you two sure won't have any problem with the ladies. They'll be falling over themselves." He laughed. "If you have any left over point a few in my direction. Well, sorry to have interrupted your trip, guys. Have fun with each other out there."

"We plan on it," grinned Randy. "Thanks a lot, officer."

As the cop walked back to his car Randy looked at Mark.

"What d'you think he meant by that?"

"Guess we'll find out," Mark smiled. "Let the games begin!" And they kicked their bikes into life and sped back onto the freeway.

They finally got off the Interstate on the outskirts of Palm Springs and rode through the adjacent Cathedral City. On the other edge of town Mark yelled at Randy and pointed to a flashing sign ... "Beer!" Randy nodded and they pulled off into the parking lot of a small, shabby bar.

"Thought we should wash the dust out of our throats before we hit the canyon," said Mark.

"I'm right with you," and they took off their helmets and went inside.

After the dazzling sunlight they stood just inside the bar getting adjusted to the darkness. They were aware of a small crowd in the bar, but had a sense that conversation had died, leaving a heavy silence. They walked up to the bar and were greeted by an amiable bear of a man in a leather vest.

Randy smiled, "Two Buds."

"Sure thing," the barkeep said, looking them up and down. When he put the beers on the counter, he said, "Drinks are on the house, gentlemen."

Surprised, Mark said, "Really?"

The barman grinned. "Don't you hear the silence in here? You evidently didn't realize this, but this is a gay bar. And you two guys are the best thing that ever walked in here. You are fucking incredible man. Just look around.

Randy and Mark turned their backs to the bar and leaned with their elbows on the counter. They were indeed an unbelievable sight ... the dark, swarthy body builder in full leather and the blond muscle god with his perfect chest outlined under his sweat-stained, torn T-shirt. As quiet conversation in the bar resumed they caught snatches of conversation: "Jesus Christ ... Pornographic!" ... "Straight out of 'Tom of Finland'."

Randy and Mark were a little stunned by the effect they were having, but finally a few men plucked up the courage to come over and talk to them. Twenty minutes later they had finished their beers and turned to pay.

"I told you, on the house," the barman said, pushing back their money. "Look, you guys are great for business. They'll be talking about this for days, and I guarantee that most of them will go home and jerk off thinking about you. I know I will."

Randy grinned, "We're glad to be of service. By the way, is there a gas station between here and the turn-off to the canyon?"

"Yeah ... an out-of-the-way dump way out there. Weird outfit. I don't care for it ... but they got gas."

And that was their third stop. The bartender was right. It was a run-down gas-station and auto repair shop that at first seemed deserted. They got off their bikes and looked around for the help. Finally they went inside the repair shop and Randy shouted, "Anyone home?"

They heard a sound and a body slid out from under a car being repaired. The guy stood up and blinked at them. Mark and Randy smiled as they looked at the figure of a young guy in a mechanics uniform ... really just greasy dungarees held up by worn denim straps buckled over bare shoulders, no shirt. The dungarees were tight enough to show off a beautiful, naturally sculpted body, not gym built, just the kind of body some guys are lucky to have been born with.

He was brown skinned, lean, with no body fat, broad shoulders and what appeared to be a perfectly proportioned chest. Most remarkable was his face. It was a mix of Hispanic and Indian, with high cheek bones and slightly slanted deep brown eyes. His jet black hair flopped over his high forehead into his eyes. Even though it was streaked with grease, it was a remarkable face.

But it was when he bent down to put his tools away that the men stood in awe at his incredibly beautiful butt. Perfectly rounded globes pushed at the thin fabric of the tight dungarees. Neither man had ever seen an ass like it and they both felt a stirring in their groin. Randy looked over at Mark.

"You, too, uh?" he grinned. Then turning to the young guy he said, "So, you sell gas here?"

The kid reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of glasses. He put them on, small rimless granny glasses framing his big brown eyes. Now that he got a good look at the two men his jaw dropped.

"Wow," he breathed. Then he pulled himself together. "Yeah, we got gas. Come outside." He led the way and when he saw the two Harleys, he again said, "Wow."

Mark laughed. "Is that all you ever say, 'wow'? What's your name kid?"

"Pab ..." The boy cleared his throat nervously. "Pablo," sir.

"Well, Pablo, fill 'em up."

As he started to pump the gas Pablo looked down at the bikes, too shy to make eye contact. So Mark spoke.

"You all alone out here?"

"Right now, yes, sir. I live in a room in the back. The ... er ... the other guys will be back tonight."

"How old are you?"

"I'm gonna be twenty one."

"When?"

"Next week, I think."

"You think!?" said Randy surprised.

"Well, that's what the Welfare told me. The 17th, I think she said."

Haltingly, Pablo told his story. Apparently he never knew his parents and had lived in a long succession of foster homes. He never seemed to fit in anywhere and was often poorly treated. A couple of years ago, when he became too old for the foster system, three guys offered to take him off the hands of his latest foster mother and they brought him here to work the station.

"The only thing I've ever been good at is working on cars. I'm a great mechanic. That's why the guys keep me here. So that's what I do."

"All the time?"

"Pretty much, sir."

"Do you have any other folks?"

"Nope. Just the ... well ... the guys here. Listen, I gotta get back to work or they're gonna ..." As he leaned over to replace the gas cap one of the straps of his dungarees broke, baring his shoulder and part of his chest and back. Mark immediately noticed bruises and a few welts on his back.

"What happened there?" he asked.

"What? Oh, that." He looked embarrassed. "I ... I fell downstairs. Gotta go now, sir."

He ran their credit card, and gave it back to Randy, blinking behind his owl glasses. He paused, as if he was about to say something else, but then turned suddenly and went back inside, trying to fix his torn dungarees.

Mark looked at Randy. "What d'ya make of that? You see any stairs here? I don't like the look of that at all. We cops see a lot of weird shit, especially out in remote places like this."

Randy agreed. "Seems like a great kid, though. What you think we should do?"

"Nothing we can do right now. But I'd like to keep an eye on him. We'll come through here on our way back and take another look if that's OK with you?"

"You got it," said Randy, and they rode off. Soon they turned off the road and began the long climb up the dirt track into the canyon.

The place was remote ... and idyllic. But it was a hell of a ride getting there. The dirt road became a narrow track and wound high up from the desert floor. They wrestled their bikes through the dirt until finally they heard running water and Mark said, "We're here."

They parked under some trees and Mark led Randy to his secret spot. High in the canyon the water of the creek was crystal clear. It tumbled over a waterfall into a deep blue pool beneath. Randy felt all the tension flowing from his body and he turned to look Mark in the eyes.

"This is great, man. God I feel good."

"I hoped you'd like it. I've never brought anyone else here before."

"I feel special."

"You are, man."

"That water sure looks good. Let's wash the dust off."

"So take your clothes off," Mark grinned.

Quickly they stripped off their shirts, kicked off their boots and peeled down their jeans. As they stood naked they looked at each other.

"You are fucking incredible," Randy said.

Mark smiled. "OK, big guy. See if you can get me in the water."

And so their natural spirit of competition took over once again. On the bank that overhung the pool the two glorious men came together, their muscular bodies straining against each other for supremacy. They laughed as they pitted their strength against each other, muscles flexing and gleaming in the sun. Suddenly Randy hooked his foot around Mark's leg and knocked him off balance. But Mark didn't release his hold and together they plunged down into the cold water of the pool.

"Asshole," yelled Randy as they surfaced. "You'll never learn that I always win."

"Is that so?" shouted Mark and pushed Randy's head under the surface.

And so they continued to wrestle and strain against each other, churning up the water in a celebration of their masculinity and male lust. Finally Mark yelled, "Truce!" and they climbed exhausted back onto the bank. They fell laughing onto the grass, bodies heaving and streaming with water.

Finally they were able to relax. They lay facing each other on their side, their heads propped up on their elbows. As they gazed at each other in silence, their eyes seemed to penetrate deep into the other man's soul.

"So, at last," Mark said. Here we are."

"Here we are," Randy repeated. "And you know why we're here don't you?"

"Oh yeah, I know. But..."

"... you're not sure you can. Do you want it?"

"Randy, I've thought about it ever since I left your house. I'll never forget the look on your face when I was ..."

"Pounding my ass with your cock?'

"Well ... yeah."

"And you need another man to show you how that felt."

"No, buddy, not any other man. I need you to show me. It could only be you. I'm just ... well, I've never even thought of doing anything like this ... being with another guy. I'm afraid that you'll think of me somehow as less of a man."

"Hey, when you'd finished reaming my ass, when I was lying there beaten, did you think I looked like less of a man?"

"I've never seen a man look more magnificent as you lay beneath me."

"So, what are we waiting for? Leave everything to me."

Mark fell on his back. Randy straddled him and pushed the cop's legs back so his ass rose in the air. Lowering his head Randy brought his mouth up between the legs and began to eat the sweet, warm ass of this incredible Nordic god. Mark moaned as he felt the lips bathe his trembling hole and the hard, hot tongue probe his ass. God he wanted this man ... more than he had ever wanted another living soul.

"Yeah, man," he breathed. "Keep doing that. God, that feels incredible. I love to feel your tongue inside me."

"Randy pulled back and looked Mark in the eyes. "Who does your ass belong to, Mark?"

"You, sir. I've never given my ass to anyone. But it's yours now. Fuck me buddy ... please."

Randy smiled at him and pressed the head of his thick cock against his ass. As the pressure increased Mark felt the pain and, in a brief moment of panic, closed his eyes.

"Wait ... I don't think I can. I can't do this. Pull back man, the pain is too much..."

But his voice died away and he looked up at the dark chiseled features of the face above him, steely blue eyes, stubbled, square jaw, black hair falling over his brow. It was the most beautiful face he had ever seen. He heard the soft voice.

"I'm inside you man. Feel it. Feel it move inside your ass."

Mark groaned. "Oh, God. It's incredible. Jesus I can feel your rod in my ass. I've never felt anything like this. Stay in me, man. Don't pull out. I need your cock in my ass ... please."

"Relax man. I'm gonna make love to your ass with my dick. I'm gonna make love to you."

And so he did. Gently at first he pushed deeper into the hot, moist hole, stroking the velvet skin with his trembling cock. As he gazed at the magnificent blond muscle god writhing beneath him, aware that he was the first man ever to be inside him, the feeling in his cock was unbelievable.

"You are fucking magnificent," Randy breathed. "I love being inside your ass. Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Oh, God, man. Push it deep. Pound my ass ... it's yours. I want to really feel it. Punish me, man. Hurt me. I love you..."

Randy started to lose all sense of time or place. His animal lust and macho pride took over. He began to pound his cock faster, penetrated deeper until he was hammering the ass of this beautiful stud. Both men were hypnotized by each other, glorying in their masculinity. It was as if the violation of one man's ass by the other was the only way to express their maleness.

It went on and on ... the pounding, the screamed obscenities ... the clawing at each other's straining muscles. Randy dug his fingers into Mark's huge pecs and Mark reached up to viciously twist Randy's nipples. They wanted to hurt each other, to make the other man feel ... to feel something more intense, more exquisite than he had ever felt before. The sensation was a euphoric mix of savagery and lust.

As Mark looked up he began to fantasize. With his dark face and steely eyes Randy took on almost a satanic look and Mark had the delusion of being fucked by the devil himself.

It was not hard to see why. The two glorious men, at the pinnacle of their masculinity and power, were equal in beauty and strength but polar opposites in their look. Randy, a dark, powerful demon, sinewy muscles rippling as he penetrated his victim. Mark, the blond god, his muscular, golden body flexing as he offered up his ass to be brutally punished. If it was good versus evil, it was the evil image that was triumphant. Except that Mark wasn't in hell ... he was in heaven.

The two muscular bodies continued to grind together. "You are so fucking beautiful, man," Randy screamed. "I have to own you. I need to shred that gorgeous body, rip you wide open, dominate you, destroy you."

"Do it," Mark screamed. "Do whatever you want. You're my master. I'll give you anything. FUCK ME...

Randy felt his cock shudder as an intense fire moved up through his legs, into his groin and consumed his whole body. Mark watched in awe as he watched the muscles flex, saw the body of this magnificent, powerful muscle stud shudder and heave above him. He watched the face transform as it entered a world of ecstasy. Mark felt a sudden calm, as if he had entered the eye of the storm. He knew the moment was near.

He said softly, "Cum inside me, man. Fill my ass with your juice. Show me you love me ..."

Randy gazed wildly down at him. "I do love you, man. You're so fucking gorgeous you're making me cum. I can't hold back. Here it comes, man. Let me see you shoot."

"Aaaah!" And they exploded together. Randy's cock shuddered and pulsed as stream after stream of hot cum poured inside the beautiful ass of this god. He was still pounding the ass, couldn't stop, never wanted to stop, as he felt his cock erupt again and again.

Mark was in a delirium. His own cock had exploded at the same instant as Randy's. He felt Randy's semen pouring inside him as his own cum gushed over his sweating heaving chest. He was in another world.

"Don't stop man. I don't want this to stop. I want you in me forever. My ass belongs to you. I love you, man."

But finally it did stop and Randy fell forward onto the magnificent chest, soaked with sweat and semen. The two huge bodies heaved as they clung to each other. It was a long while later that Randy raised his head and smiled at Mark.

"Well?"

"Now I know," Mark said. "I wanted that from the moment I first saw you, that day when you came out of the shower, gleaming wet, with a towel wrapped round you. From that moment I needed your cock inside my ass."

"I know," said Randy.

"Please stay in me. Don't pull out."

"I'm right there, buddy." He fell forward again, their breathing subsided and they fell into an exhausted sleep, two muscle gods in a tight embrace. And Randy was still in Mark's ass.

That night they slept under the brilliant stars of the desert. In the morning their gleaming bodies were still locked in a fierce embrace. They woke together, looked into each other's eyes and smiled.

"You're still here," Mark said. "I thought you were a dream."

"We didn't dream it buddy. It really happened." Finally they pulled apart and Mark gasped as Randy's cock at last pulled slowly out of his ass. They spent the rest of the day exploring each other's bodies and minds, rolling together over the grass, falling into the water, holding each other submerged, gasping and laughing as they resurfaced. They were in paradise.

It was early afternoon as they lay together talking softly.

"Remember," Mark said, "how I was afraid that having you fuck me would make me less of a man?"

"Dumb, uh? Man, you have never looked, or been, more of a macho stud than when you were begging me to hammer your ass. You should have seen yourself. The world should have seen you. Fucking magnificent."

"I guess being a man is more than just flexing and strutting the way some guys do," Mark said.

"Of course," Randy agreed. "You know who I think is probably more of a man than any of them? That young grease monkey we met back at the gas station. With everything he's been through in his life he's still in there, all alone, hanging tough."

"You know, I can't stop thinking about him," Mark said. "I had a real uneasy feeling about that place. Something wasn't right ... didn't smell right, if you know what I mean."

"I do know what you mean. You wanna go and check it out, don't you?"

"Yeah. I have one of those cop hunches."

"You got it man. Let's hit it."

They quickly packed up their gear and took one last look at the place.

"Thanks, buddy," said Mark. "I'll never forget this place."

"We'll be back," smiled Randy and pulled Mark toward him in a final, tight embrace.

As they got close to the ramshackle gas station Mark flagged Randy down to a stop.

"I'd rather approach quietly," he said. "You never know."

"You're the cop," Randy said. "Lead the way."

A heavy silence hung over the place as they walked up. A beat up truck was parked by the gas pumps.

"I have a real bad feeling about this," Mark said softly. "Stay here and keep watch. I'll check out the inside."

Mark walked through the office area and went through the door to the repair shop. The door swung closed behind him. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom he gasped at the sight. The car hoist had been raised to its highest level. Tied to it, his arms raised high and wide was the young guy, Pablo. His dungarees hung round his waist and his bare chest was marked with red welts. He was gagging on a filthy rag jammed into his mouth, his eyes wide with terror.

Standing before him, his back to Mark, was a huge, burly bear of a guy in grease-stained jeans and T-shirt, and he was holding his belt in his hand.

"You fucking faggot. I paid big bucks for you and you turn out to be a fucking faggot. Well, pretty boy, this is what happens to freaks like you." And he raised his belt.

"Freeze!" The powerful voice made him spin round.

"Who the fuck are you? Get out of here. There's a private party going on."

"Like hell there is," and Mark stepped forward.

The thug raised the belt and brought it whistling down toward Mark's face. But Mark was too quick for him. He raised his arm, let the belt curl round it, and yanked on it, pulling the man toward him. As he fell forward Mark brought his knee crashing up into his groin. He staggered back in agony and Mark followed up with a vicious right to his stomach, making him double up in pain.

Out of the corner of his eye Mark saw Pablo's head nodding frantically, his eyes wide open. But it was too late. Mark felt his arms grabbed from behind on either side and locked in a vise-like grip. The older guy recovered himself and croaked out, "That's it boys. Hold him tight."

He came up to Mark and, grabbing his hair, pulled his head back. The ugly bearded face came close. "I want you to meet my two sons, you shithead. You made a real mistake coming in here. Now they're gonna hold you while I have my fun. Hey, it's a long time since I worked over a good-looking guy like you. Think you're a hot-shot stud, don't ya? Well that face ain't gonna look so pretty when I'm finished with you."

And he raised his belt and brought it crashing down.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength ... Part 23".