A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 231 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER: Randy is merciless to thugs who attack Brandon. "The savage gypsy who had inflicted such brutal punishment now had tears of affection watching Brandon wheel himself away. That's one gutsy kid," he said, we gotta take care of him." Three gym jocks, Jason, Hassan and Adam compete. "It was pornographic – the muscle-god fireman submits, double-teamed by an athletic Aussie and a tough Marine."

Chapter 231 – "Men In Action"

Mario and Brandon's first date (which Mario had not even wanted to call a date) exceeded their wildest expectations. A movie – dinner – and then their first love-making that Mario described as "a wonderful mix of passion, tears and laughter," especially laughter.

It had transformed them overnight from friends to lovers and they were lying in each other's arms next morning when they were startled awake by Eddie and Ben bursting through the door. Eddie was hopping up and down in agitated suspense. He looked down at the pair lying naked together with Mario's arm round Brandon's neck and said, "So, are you two an item now?"

Brandon took a deep breath and said haughtily, "Mario and me don't believe in putting labels on things." Eddie looked gleefully at Ben. "So that's a yes then. Come on dude." As they ran from the room to spread the word Eddie turned round. "Oh, breakfast is on the table and Randy's on the warpath."

"Oops," Mario grinned at Brandon. "Better put in an appearance pronto. As they dragged themselves off the bed, Brandon into his wheelchair, Mario asked, "What is this `item' Eddie speaks of?"

"Oh, it means when two people are ... like ... together ...like ... a couple. You know ... in love."

Mario said, "And do you think we are this ... `item'?"

Brandon grinned. "You heard what Eddie said, `That's a yes, then'. He's pretty smart. I'd go with that."

Of course, word spread like lightning in this group, especially when Eddie was the messenger, and when Mario and Brandon made their disheveled appearance at breakfast they were greeted with a standing ovation. A coupling of two members of the tribe was always an event. Blushing, they took their places at table to the smiles of the men and enthusiasm of the other boys.

Having arrived late, Mario and Brandon were the last ones left at table, along with Bob. He smiled at them and put his hands over theirs. "I'm so pleased for you both, and happy that you took your time about it. A relationship takes a lot of work and you've started out well. Seems like you learned the difference between fucking and loving, Brandon."

"Oh yes, sir, Mario showed me that. Sir, do you think my homework for Dr. Steve is finished?"

"Well, you'd have to ask him that when you next meet, but my guess is he would tell you to pursue it a bit longer. See, as you've discovered from watching Mark and Jamie, Zack and Darius, then Randy and me, love is complicated and can take a lot of different forms. Who could have guessed that Zack would tie his boy up and whip him to show him how much he loves him and that Darius would crave it?

"The other thing is that in this tribe sex flows pretty easily, so most guys feel free to fuck with any other guys in the group. That can be a challenge for new couples to grasp. Randy's rule is that you can fuck anyone within the tribe, but don't dare do it outside. Jamie made that mistake once and Mark almost threw him out. Now, though, they're more in love than ever.

"What I'm saying is, to get a full picture you should watch a few more guys in action. Take Jason. People say he is in love with himself, but that's only the mirror image. He's vain about his looks is all – and who can blame him, he's so beautiful. I'm sure hundreds of guys still jerk off over his picture in the fireman's calendar."

"Actually, sir," Brandon said, "Jason has invited Hassan and Adam over for dinner on Saturday afternoon with their boys – Ben, Eddie and Nate. He invited me too. Do you think I could take Mario?"

Bob laughed. "I'm sure he'd be disappointed if you didn't. You two are the hot couple in town right now. And that will give you an ideal place to observe and complete your homework. Jason is the narcissist but I fancy Hassan and Adam are not far behind. Men as gorgeous as that have their vanity too. And you'll learn that love between men always has a competitive edge. That's inevitable with alpha males, especially the beautiful ones – even if it's only competing to see who looks best in front of a mirror."

Bob grinned. "The only guy I know who has no personal vanity is Randy. But you only have to see him in action to know that he is the ultimate competitive male. They don't come tougher than him. He always has to be the boss and always wins – it's bred in the bone – and it's what makes him so sexy. Hell, I often wonder how he'd react if that guy Pete, the hot stud Ranger we met, ever showed up here. We'd all have a ringside seat for that one.

"Listen, talking of Randy, I'm getting really black looks from him so you better get to work. If he gives you grief I'll take care of it. He listens to me." (That was the understatement of the year, Mario grinned to himself.) "And congratulations again, guys. You'll be great together. Enjoy your visit to Jason's. And Brandon – take notes."

The rest of the week was a blur of happiness for Brandon. He was now a fully accepted member of the crew working on the construction of the new office at the house. He took pride in the job Randy had entrusted to him – checking in the building supplies and controlling the inventory. As boss of the whole operation Randy had a lot on his shoulders and he barked orders all day, not sparing anyone – including Brandon.

"Where the fuck are those corner moldings, boy? There are supposed to be sixteen of them. If you've lost any I'll shove my dick up your ass."

"No need for that, sir," Brandon grinned impishly. "Though you can if you want. There they are over there, all sixteen of them.

"Oh yeah." Randy grinned. "I might still fuck your ass, though. I am the boss after all. You're doing a terrific job, kid. I'm proud of you." It was stuff like that that made Brandon's spirits soar, but though he loved his job he couldn't wait for the end of the workday when he and Mario could be together again.

However, there was one sour and potentially dangerous episode to endure which showed how fragile happiness could be sometimes. When work ended Brandon, in high spirits, told Mario he would wheel himself up to his apartment and pick up some fresh clothes as he was spending so much time with Mario he was running out of things to wear.

The other guys went to their rooms to shower and relax, including Mario who told Brandon he would make pre-dinner drinks and appetizers for when he got back. He was going to introduce him to Campari, a drink Brandon had never heard of, let alone tasted.

Randy had taken Darius on a quick run to the main construction site to pick up a few building supplies they would need here at the house for the next day's work. It didn't take them to load the truck and drive back, but as they drove up the hill to the house Randy said, "What the fuck?"

Up ahead, near the top of the hill they saw and heard the commotion in progress. Two scruffy, tough looking roughnecks, both in their twenties, were circling round Brandon's wheelchair, wielding sticks. He was yelling, "Back off guys. You lay a finger on me and I'll fucking kill you." He was swinging a baseball bat that he always kept with him, keeping the men at a distance.

"Oh I'm real scared," one of the thugs sneered. "Look at the cripple, dude. He can't even walk and he's gonna kill us. Pretty boys like you make me sick, asshole, pretending you can't walk, living off welfare, spending our taxes – you retards should be locked up in a fucking institution."

"We'll walk from here," Randy said to Darius, "surprise em. Bring your camera, boy. I want the whole thing on video. Looks like he's holding them off for now. Shit that's one gutsy kid." They ran silently up the hill, Darius already holding the camera to his eye. As they came close they stood in the bushes, unnoticed by Brandon and the thugs intensely focused on their fight.

Randy whispered, "Get the whole thing, kid, especially their faces and words – that's important." Darius had a ton of experience at remaining invisible as he surreptitiously filmed guys. The thugs certainly didn't see him as they spit their venom at Brandon.

"Think a stupid baseball bat's gonna help you, you moron? Not likely – see, our legs work and yours don't, asshole – show him dude," and they stomped their feet in a derisive show of able-bodied superiority. "You don't belong here, you fucking loser. Crips like you should be put in your place. We're gonna shoot our stinking jizz over you, then tie your arms to the chair and give you a shove downhill. That should mess up your pretty face."

Randy held back and watched the action carefully, making sure the thugs were still only taunting him and not landing blows. In fact he grinned in admiration at Brandon's determined expression behind his glasses as he swung the bat threateningly. "You got it, Darius?" he whispered. "All of it, sir," Darius said, hyped to the max at being a team with Randy.

Brandon was yelling, "Back off, assholes – this wheelchair can be a lethal weapon. And I got some mean friends who'll fucking kill you." He remembered Randy's words. "You hurt me and my boss will shove his fist up your ass."

"Damn right he will." Brandon jerked his head up at the deep voice and grinned with relief. Instantly he knew he was safe. The thugs didn't even have a chance to look up before they felt themselves lifted up bodily by the neck of their shirts, their faces were slammed hard together and they slumped to the ground.

Randy turned to Brandon. "You OK, kiddo?"

"Never better sir," Brandon grinned, "especially now you're here." Randy's demeanor changed dramatically as he looked down at the stunned guys with contempt and circled them, spitting out his menacing words. He was a terrifying sight, still shirtless after work, in his cargo pants and boots, his stubbled face streaked with dirt – a wild, muscular gypsy, eyes blazing with fury.

"Asshole mother-fuckers," he yelled, clenching his fists, his muscles flexed with rage. "That's my boy there ... my boy! No one hurts my boy, especially ass-wipes like you. If you had touched one hair of his head I would have fucking killed you. But he was tough enough to fight you off on his own. That kid may be in a wheelchair but he's worth a dozen of you. You're pond scum ... no – pond scum has its uses. You're not worth this much," and he spat down on their terrified faces.

"Sir, we was only goofing around ..."

"Shut the fuck up, douchebag. One more word and I'll shove this up your ass," raising his forearm and clenching his fist. "You insulted my boy, so you insulted me. Hey Darius, what do we do with pricks who insult us?"

"I dunno, sir. Something involving this maybe?" Darius whipped out his formidable ten-inch black dick and the rednecks writhed in terror. "How'd you like that pole in your pathetic asses, eh?" Randy taunted. "This too," and he pulled out his own beer-can-thick club. "Think we should double-team `em, boy?"

"No, sir ... please," they whimpered.

"Nah," Randy answered his own question. "I wouldn't waste my time ripping their asses open. But we got something else we reserve for pricks like this, don't we boy?"

"Gotcha, sir," grinned Darius, pointing his dick down at the quivering thugs. Randy aimed his in the same direction and their desperate begging was silenced by two massive streams of piss pouring down on them. As they opened their mouths to scream they were filled with rancid piss they were forced to swallow. They choked on the putrid taste as streams of urine poured down on them from the two long hoses, soaking their faces and clothes.

"There," Randy gloated, "now you stink as ugly as you look. Not so macho now, are you, when you're dealing with guys bigger than you – in every respect?" grinning down at Darius's massive horse-dick still dripping piss. "You're fucking pathetic – real tough when you're attacking a kid in a wheelchair but now you're just two wet douchebags groveling at my feet."

He turned to Brandon. "Hey, kiddo, why don't you grab a piece of the action here? Is that a boner I see under your shorts?"

Brandon blinked behind his glasses. "Yes, sir. Just looking at you and Darius I can't help it."

"Yeah, well I didn't think it was these two shitheads gave you a hard-on. Still, no use letting it go to waste. Here..." Randy wheeled Brandon close to the terrified rednecks and, holding onto him, tilted the wheelchair forward so he was leaning over them. "I've got you, kid. Hold on tight with one hand ... and I think you know what to do with the other.

"Yes thank you, sir. I have a pretty good idea." Brandon pulled out his cock and stroked it, looking down at the terrified faces running with piss and tears. Then he looked up at Darius who flashed a smile, pounding his meat. That was a sight that always turned him on and he said, "You look so hot, Darius, can you help me out here?"

"Ready when you are, dude. It's your show ... just say the word."

"OK ... OK ... now!" They timed it well, in perfect sync as they pumped their dicks and blasted twin streams of jizz into the faces of the groveling men. As sticky white jism splashed over their faces and into their mouths they gagged again as they swallowed semen this time instead of piss. They coughed frantically, choking on cum.

Randy snarled, "That's what you punks were gonna do to my boy, assholes – so how does it feel – refreshing? That's the first wash those filthy faces have had in a long time, I bet. Sorry it had to be piss and cum but that's the breaks."

"Please, sir," one of them begged as he coughed. "We can't take any more."

"You're talking to the wrong guy, asshole. This is the man you gotta apologize to – and I do mean `man'."

They looked up at Brandon and one of them whimpered, "We're sorry, sir. We were acting like assholes. Please forgive us, sir."

"Hmm. I dunno," Brandon said. "All I see is two pussies. Let me hear you say it, mother-fuckers."

They gazed up at him and one said, "I'm a pussy, sir." The other repeated, "I'm a pussy, sir. Please let us go."

Randy grinned at his boy in admiration as Brandon said, "That's enough for me, sir."

"Yeah, that's `coz you're a decent kid. But when I see shit-for-brains motherfuckers like these attacking my boy I kinda lose it and I don't have a decent bone in my body, right Darius?"

"Right, sir," Darius grinned, enjoying himself hugely.

"OK, kid, I want these two reptiles out of my sight. Go down to the truck and get those two cables, the ones with the padlocks."

Darius ran to obey and Randy said to the terrified thugs, "See, boys, I have a kind of rule for dirtbags like you – the punishment should fit the crime. Now I don't think you've quite grasped what it's like for my boy here being unable to walk. Not that that stopped him almost pounding the crap out of you. But I think you should know what it feels like, so I have a plan. Ah, here's Darius. Thanks kiddo."

Randy worked fast and expertly. While Darius held the dazed men down Randy wound the cables tight round their legs and fastened them with the padlocks. He stood up and their reflex was to try to pull the cables loose.

"Good luck with that, guys. See, the cables have steel cores and the padlocks will resist most steel cutters. But you're in luck. A pal of mine, Joe, is the mechanic down at the gas station on the corner and he knows the way I work. If you go down there and ask real nice he'll try to cut through the padlocks with special tools he has. Tell him Randy sent you. Might be a long job, and he won't appreciate the way you stink, but tell him I'll be in later to settle up with him.

Randy rubbed his chin. "Trouble is, though, getting down there. You're like my boy here, you can't use your legs but, unlike my boy, you don't have a wheelchair. So you're gonna learn how it feels when you can't walk, and know how it feels to be attacked by two redneck shit-brained bullies like yourselves.

One other thing, don't even try to report this as brutality – even though it is. See, my other boy here, in addition to having a massive black schlong – the one that pissed all over you – is also an expert with a camera. He has the whole fucking thing on video – your attack on a boy in a wheelchair, your faces in close-up and your voices. And I've got another good pal, a cop who lives in my house and who plays everything by the book. If he gets one look at this video he'll hunt you down and throw the goddamn book at you. I don't give much for the chances of your sorry asses in the slammer.

"Alternatively, sir," Darius interjected, "if I posted this on the Internet it would go viral right away – worldwide. Two thugs attacking a boy in a wheelchair – the Web loves that stuff. After that there's nowhere they could go and show their faces without getting the same treatment."

Randy grinned, "Right on, kiddo. So there you have it, guys, it's either the cop and the slammer or worldwide fame as brutal shitheads ... or both. Oh, I forgot, you do have one other choice. I'll give you a break. You get the hell out of my sight and, when Joe sets you free, you get your pathetic asses as far away from here as your skinny legs with take you. If I lay eyes on you just once, or if you come within ten miles of my boy, the deal's off. I know you've got shit for brains but do you get my meaning?"

"Yes, sir," they moaned. "Thank you, sir."

"OK, Darius, haul them up on their feet." As soon as they were standing they instinctively tried to walk and fell forward flat on the ground. "Have a good trip, guys," Randy snarled.

As they dragged themselves painfully downhill, rolling, grabbing at bushes to prevent free-fall, Randy watched them, standing legs apart, arms folded over his bare chest, eyes still blazing with anger. Brandon thought he had never seen anything more terrifying ... and it gave him another hard-on in his shorts. As the thugs disappeared from view Randy turned back to Brandon and his expression softened.

"You sure you're OK, boy? You got quite a scare there."

"Oh I wasn't scared, sir. I've beat off guys like that before. And anyway, I knew you and Darius would be home from the site real soon so all I had to do was hold them off `til you got here, and I knew you'd save me."

Randy grinned, "You sound pretty confident about that."

"Oh I was. I remember the promise you made. You said I'm one of your boys now and you would protect me. You said any guy who lays a finger on any of your boys answers to you – and it wouldn't be pretty. I just saw what you meant. You were brutal to those guys – even I was scared. And thank you too Darius. Actually I think what scared those dickheads most was that ten-inch club of yours."

"Yeah," Darius preened. "It does seem to have that effect on guys."

"OK, kiddo," Randy said, "we'll walk you up the hill – make sure you get home all right."

"Thank you sir, but I can make it from here on my own. I'll be just fine."

Randy smiled, "Yeah, I reckon you will at that."

"Thank you again, sir. I love you, sir. You too, Darius." Brandon turned round and wheeled himself confidently up the hill. Randy watched him go with a look of infinite tenderness. Amazing, Darius thought – the savage gypsy who moments ago had inflicted such brutal punishment now had tears in his eyes. "You love him a lot, don't you sir?"

Randy wiped his eyes with his hand. "There goes one gutsy young kid, Darius, one of the bravest I've seen. We gotta take good care of him, kiddo."

"Oh we do, sir – me and the boys."

"Good – just don't let him know it, that's all. He's proud of taking care of himself and, judging by how he wielded that baseball bat, I'd say he's damn good at it. Come on, I'm starved."

He threw his arm round Darius's shoulder and as they walked back down the hill he said, "You were terrific back there, boy – great backup. We make a damn good team. I'm proud of you, boy." Praise like this from the boss made Darius feel ten feet tall.

With Darius's video – and his megaphone mouth – the adventure sped through the group in minutes and the boys clustered round him. Bob took Randy upstairs where Randy called Joe to explain what the two thugs had done and what he had done to them. He thanked him for cutting them free and said he'd be in to pay him.

Joe laughed, "When I saw those losers dragging their sorry asses in here I recognized your handiwork right away. Took me a while to free them and god they stunk like dead rats. And don't even think about payment, buddy, it's on the house. Assholes who tried to beat up young Brandon – well, they deserve everything you threw at them and I was proud to help out. Just remind me never to get on the wrong side of you, big guy."

Bob was looking at Randy adoringly as he shut off his phone. "You are one hell of a guy, buddy. Seems to me you deserve a reward."

Randy grinned salaciously. "Only one reward I want. On the bed, man. Naked. Now!"

Downstairs one of the group was more alarmed than the others. Mario ran out of the house, drove up the hill and burst into Brandon's apartment. He was in the shower, sitting on his special chair, and Mario impulsively climbed in with him even though he was wearing shorts and a thin shirt. "Darius just told us. Are you sure you're OK, amico?"

"I'm fine," Brandon grinned, "only I've had a bit of a shock, so I need something to take my mind off it." He slid off the chair and lay on his back on the floor of the large shower. He gazed up through the steam at Mario who looked spectacular under the streaming water, his thin cotton shirt soaked and transparent, clinging to his muscular torso.

Mario smiled down at him and began to unbutton his shirt. "No," Brandon said, "please don't take it off, you look so hot like that." Mario kicked off his sneakers, dropped his sodden shorts and stood over him in just his soaking wet shirt, his black hair dripping down his handsome face, lips slightly apart in a suggestive smile. Water streamed over his cock standing out stiff as a pole from the bottom of his shirt and Brandon could easily have shot a load just looking at him.

But Mario had over ideas. He grabbed a couple of towels and fell to his knees, easing one towel under Brandon's back and the other under his own knees. As the hot water poured over them Mario pushed Brandon's legs up, draped them over his shoulders and pressed his wet cock between the cheeks of Brandon's ass. He smiled down at him through the steam.

"I think you have seen too much of hate today, amico. Time for a little loving don't you think?" He pushed his cock gently into his ass and watched with satisfaction as Brandon sighed and blinked up at him through the water. Brandon thought Mario had never looked more beautiful, his sculpted features softened by the clouds of steam, hair and face streaming with water, his transparent shirt clinging to the contours of his pecs and ripped abs clearly etched underneath.

Mario said softly, "I love fucking you, mi amico, mio bel ragazzo. My cock feels so good in your ass. I could do this all day." Brandon was in heaven as he felt his lover's cock gently sliding in and out of his ass, caressing it, then pushing in deep. He reached up and ran his hands over his chest, which felt even more seductive under the thin, wet cotton.

As the green eyes smiled down at him Brandon unbuttoned the shirt until it fell open, hanging down limply from his shoulders, exposing the gleaming wet flesh of his chest and abs. "Oh, man," Brandon groaned, rubbing both hands over the ridges of his six-pack abs. "You are so beautiful Mario ... I can't believe that gorgeous man has his cock in my ass.

The fuck went on and on until Mario groaned. "Amico, your ass is so hot I have to shoot inside it. But please don't cum – not just yet. Do you want to feel my juice in you?"

"Yes please," Brandon sighed. "Do it `coz you love me."

Almost imperceptibly Mario quickened the pace and depth of his fuck, reveling in the warm, wet feel of the velvet membrane against his cock. Brandon grinned. "I can make you cum, buddy – like this." Suddenly he squeezed his ass muscles tight round Mario's cock, trapping it inside him. Mario screamed, "Oh fuck – fuck – fuck – I'm cuuuming...!"

Brandon shuddered as he felt Mario blast hot cum deep in his ass, his face thrashing in ecstasy, his wet hair spraying water to the walls. Brandon was desperate to cum but flexed his ass and held back. Mario quickly pulled his cock out, edged forward on his knees `til he was astride Brandon's chest. He pulled off his wet shirt and linked his hands behind his head, flexing his arms, shoulders and chest in a bodybuilder pose as water poured over his perfect body.

He inhaled sharply ... then sat down hard on Brandon's cock that buried itself deep in his ass. He rose up, then lowered himself again ... and Brandon was helpless to resist. "I love you, Mario," he screamed. And there on the floor of the shower, with water cascading over them both, Brandon's cock erupted inside the Italian boy's ass.

They were still lying on the shower floor when Brandon realized, "Shit, we're late for dinner." Hurriedly they dried off, Brandon wheeled himself to his closet, flung a pair of his shorts to Mario and pulled on his own. He grabbed a couple of T-shirts, Mario picked up his wet clothes and they ran out.

In their hurry all they had on was shorts and they were barefoot. Mario said, "Give me a ride, amico?" He grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and stood on the back axle. They were quite a sight racing down the hill, Mario pumping his fist in the air and whooping like a cowboy riding shotgun on the back of a stagecoach, Brandon controlling the handbrake.

At the house they burst through the gate ... to find everyone sitting round the big outdoor table at dinner. The whole group looked up at the two breathless boys, barefoot in shorts, hair still wet, eyes sparkling. Brandon was holding two T-shirts and from Mario's hand drooped what looked like a soaking shirt and shorts. Everyone by now had watched Darius's video of Brandon battling the thugs and there was an instant racket of whoops and cheers.

Randy looked at Brandon with mock severity. "You two are late. You want a taste of my punishment?"

"No thank you, sir," Brandon grinned. "I saw a sample of that this afternoon and, like you always say sir, it wasn't pretty."

"Good answer, dude," Darius yelled as Brandon and Mario pulled on the dry T-shirts and took their places at table.

After the scare of the attack by the rednecks Brandon and Mario made love a lot in the following days and when the weekend came they were almost reluctant to join the party at Jason's. But Eddie and Ben were having none of that.

They burst into Mario's room in their usual impulsive way, finding him and Brandon lying on the bed together, obviously in the afterglow of sex. "Dudes," Ben said, "don't you guys do anything but fuck?" Eddie laughed, "Yeah, and they're the guys who say love is not all about fucking. Like the movie says, Love means never having to say let's fuck'."

He cackled with laughter at his own joke as Brandon threw a shoe at him and Eddie ducked. "And anyway," Brandon said, "what's that banging noise we hear through the wall every night? You're either banging in nails or banging each other"

"Yeah," Eddie grinned, "well, we ran out of nails a long time ago. Now listen, dudes, Hassan's coming soon to pick us up and take us to Jason's. You don't wanna miss the boat, guys."

"We've got our own boat," Mario said patiently, "and we'll float it when we're good and ready. After we've said good morning properly to each other."

"Shit," Eddie said, "they haven't even got to `good morning' yet. Come on, Ben, let's go."

Much as they could have stayed in bed all day, Mario and Brandon took the hint and hauled themselves off the bed and into the shower. Mario drove them down the hill, over Figueroa then down to the rustic greenery of the Arroyo Seco – not quite `seco' as a stream trickled along the boundary of Jason's garden.

It was becoming a habit that the two boys were the last to arrive anywhere, but the guys cut them some slack, being new lovers and all. Anyway, Jason's was a real casual drop-in kind of deal and Mario and Brandon gazed in awe at the three men sitting at the table by the stream.

Jason, the fireman and their host, was wearing only black gym shorts, showing off (not unintentionally) his spectacular body which, along with his chiseled features, was worthy of the fireman's calendar. Next to him was Hassan, the exotic, muscular Arab/Asian Marine, wearing cargo shorts and a sleeveless khaki shirt hanging open. And then there was Adam, with his handsome Aussie features and a gym-perfect body under a white tank top and gym shorts.

While the men chatted and drank beer, their three boys, Ben, Eddie and Nate, stripped down to gym shorts, were horsing around in the well-equipped gym Jason had built on the large roofed-in patio next to his house. Supposedly working out together, the boys' jaws were getting most of the exercise as they laughed and argued, posing in front of the gym mirrors like competitive bodybuilders.

Jason got up from the table and pushed the boys aside. "Nah, nah, you kids got it all wrong. You wanna know how to show your body off, ask the expert."

They willingly stood back and watched as Jason gazed at himself in the mirror and went through a series of bodybuilder poses. He was truly a beauty and there wasn't a limp dick in the group as they admired his perfect musculature, tousled blond hair and square-jawed features smiling at himself, pleased with what he saw. He dropped his shorts and stood there naked except for a white jock strap that framed the perfect globes of his ass and showed off the bulge of his cock under the thin cotton.

As he pressed his fists into his hips, pushed his shoulders forward and flared his lats Mario said quietly to Brandon, "Now that is about as perfect as it gets in a man. So what if he's vain – I think it makes him even sexier, getting off on himself." They were sitting shoulder to shoulder at a small table off to the side, content to be spectators watching the show. "Hey, amico, this is supposed to be the last part of the homework Steve set you – seeing how even hot men like these show their love for each other. Shouldn't you be taking notes?"

"Don't need to," Brandon grinned. "Darius insisted I bring this to take notes." He pulled from his saddlebag Darius's camera. "He can always tell when something hot is gonna happen and this way he doesn't miss it." Brandon held the camera to his eye and tightened the focus on the cock-stiffening show Jason was putting on for the awestruck boys.

Then instinctively he panned over to the other two men sitting within earshot, and adjusted the volume to catch their words. "Hell, buddy," Hassan was saying to Adam, "we gonna let that hotshot fireman get away with showing off like that? Can't leave the narcissism all to him."

"Too right, mate" Adam said in his Australian accent. "Come on, let's show him he ain't the only show in town." They walked over to the gym, stood on either side of Jason and pulled off their shirts. Adam grinned, "Shove over, mate, you're like one of those gym rats that always hogs the mirror. I reckon this one's big enough for the three of us."

"What's this a pose-down?" Jason said breathlessly. "OK, guys, bring it on." To match Jason, Hassan stripped down to his khaki, Marine-issue jock strap and Adam down to his black jock. The testosterone grew thicker in the air as the three near-naked muscle-gods competed with each other in a stunning display of beautiful bodies, the blond fireman, the rugged Marine and the handsome Aussie, flexing their muscles side by side.

"Wow," Brandon said, "Steve told me that beautiful men were always competitive but I've never seen anything like this. Hey, Mario, wheel me closer, slowly, and follow my instructions, just like a grip on a film set.

"Aye-aye, sir," Mario smiled and pushed the cameraman in his wheelchair closer to the action where things were heating up. The three jocks were sweating now and Hassan shouted, "Hey, where are the judges of this contest? What d'ya say, boys? Who's the winner?"

"You, sir," yelled his boy Eddie. "Jason!" shouted Ben. "Nah, Adam, hands down," laughed Nate.

Mario chuckled, "Well of course each boy would vote for his master. Let's give the casting vote to the guy with the best view, our cameraman Brandon." Instantly the three men turned to face Brandon and went into a succession of elaborate poses for the camera. Brandon nearly lost it ... the camera wobbled, his heart beat fast and he felt pre-cum oozing copiously into his shorts.

"Steady," said the grip to his boss, holding Brandon's elbow. "So what's the verdict?"

Brandon lowered the camera and everyone gazed at him expectantly. Brandon announced loftily, "Me and Mario don't believe in putting labels on things – no winners, no losers, only three incredibly hot men." He was greeted with howls of protest and Eddie yelled "chicken" but Brandon had only to raise the camera to his eye to calm them down. They were on camera!

"OK," Jason shouted, "there's one way to decide this – pushups. Come on, guys."

In an instant he was down, hands and feet on the ground, body arched in pushup mode, face staring into the mirror. The men beside him followed suit and they began effortlessly doing pushups, their shoulders and arms rippling. It looked stunning from above – three muscle-jocks, shoulders and biceps bulging, the sinews in their backs rippling, their perfect asses framed by their jockstraps.

"Closer," said Brandon. "Aye-aye, sir," Mario said, wheeling him round so he had a clear shot at their faces and shoulders. The men were strong and tireless and Eddie, Ben and Nate jumped up and down cheering them on. Brandon was getting good at this camera stuff and even caught the look that passed between Adam and Hassan. "How about this, stud?" said Adam. He jumped up and sat astride Jason, like a man riding a horse bareback as some of the more exhibitionist guys did at the gym in enhanced pushups.

"No problem, man," grunted Jason, rising to the challenge and continued to push up strongly even with the extra weight on him. "You won't wear me out like this."

"No," Hassan muttered under his breath, "but this will."

Unseen by Jason who was focused on his own reflection, Hassan stood up, pulled his hard dick out of his jock and spat on it. He dropped to his knees behind Jason, whose ass was outlined by the straps of his jock. Eying his target Hassan adjusted to the rhythm of his ass rising up and down with the pushups.

Jason looked triumphantly in the mirror at himself then at Adam riding him. "See, buddy, I am the best. No one can beat me. I am the ... Aaagh!" He saw his own face in the mirror contort with pain as Hassan's long rod speared his ass. He collapsed onto his elbows, making his ass stick even higher in the air. Adam leapt off him and grinned at Brandon. "You getting all this, mate?"

"Definitely, sir. Darius would kill me if I missed it."

Hassan was in full Marine mode now. Driving his cock deep into Jason's ass he leaned forward and grabbed his wrists. He pulled him back up on his knees, twisted his wrists behind his back and forced them up toward his neck in a tight double hammerlock.

Jason looked spectacular and he knew it. Kneeling with his arms bent up behind him his shoulders and pecs bulged as the pain of the submission hold increased. "Yeah, man," he shouted, though it was hard to tell what turned him on more – the feel of Hassan's cock in his ass or the sight of his own body magnificently displayed in muscle-flexing captivity.

The boys were beside themselves, watching in disbelief as the powerful soldier fucked the fireman's ass. Eddie grabbed Ben's hand and said quietly, "Don't worry dude, your master's loving every minute of it." Ben grinned, "I know." Hassan didn't let up – his cock was a piston driving into the fireman's ass and his hands maintained their vise-like grip, pushing Jason's arms up ever higher behind him.

Despite the pain in his ass and torso Jason gazed at his reflection spellbound. He had never seen himself look so hot, a homoerotic image that made his own cock hard as steel – and everyone else's too.

Eventually Hassan shouted, "Hey, Adam, grab a bit of the action here, why don't you?"

"Too right, mate," Adam grinned. He stood in front of Jason and pulled his face back by the hair. "You know what comes next, mate. This..." He pressed his bulging black jock into Jason's face, forcing him to suck on it, swallowing the taste of sweat and old piss and cum. Soon Adam pulled back and gazed in awe at the beautiful blond face, slack-jawed now, drooling spit down his chin.

Adam shook his head, "Man, you look even hotter in defeat. It's fucking pornographic – the muscle-god fireman getting double teamed – fucked in the ass by a Marine and in the face by the big Aussie. That what you want, big guy?"

"Yeah," Jason drooled. "I want your cock, man ... real bad." Adam pulled his dick out of his jock and, still holding onto Jason's tousled hair, crammed it into his mouth and down his throat, making him gag. Face to face over Jason Adam grinned at Hassan and said, "OK, let's go for it, soldier."

Brandon was having a hard time keeping the camera steady, with Mario's help. As Adam had said, the sight was pornographic. Brandon recalled the picture of the fireman in the calendar that he had cum over so many times – beautiful like a god, powerful, arrogant, proud of his intense beauty. And now here was that same man on his knees, his arms forced back in a painful hammerlock, his ass getting ramrodded by the dominant Marine, his face pounded by the muscle-stud Australian. It was the total degradation of a vain muscle-jock, a gorgeous alpha male in abject submission.

Brandon knew that he and Mario would later bust their loads comparing the calendar guy with a still from this movie – the arrogant fireman versus the humiliated jock on his knees.

At last it was all reaching its climax. Jason had taken a solid pounding in his ass and mouth when Hassan nodded to Adam who pulled his cock out and said, "You can't take much more of this, man. You gotta give up, man. Let me hear it."

Nearing exhaustion the blond jock gazed up with tears flowing from his eyes and spit from his mouth. "OK, I give up ... you win ... I submit." Hassan fucked harder and Adam stroked his cock in his fist. "I give up, guys," Jason yelled again ... "I submit ... Aaagh!" His scream was stifled by a wad of cum slamming into his face and mouth as Adam's cock exploded. Hassan howled as he blasted hot jism into the cauldron of Jason's ass, hammering his cock in deeper and deeper each time he came. He released the hammerlock and Jason fell forward on the ground.

When their cocks had drained Hassan and Adam reached down and hauled the exhausted man to his feet between them. They each draped an arm over their shoulder and half dragged him to the mirror. It was a sight Jason had never seen before and it was pornographically erotic – the proud muscle-god fireman looked at himself sagging in defeat between the two men.

His chiseled features ran with sweat, tears and semen that dripped from his mouth down his chin. His blond hair was matted with cum ... his muscled chest, gleaming with sweat, was smothered in dirt and jism ... and cum ran down his legs from his ass. Jason gazed at the broken fireman, ravaged and humiliated by the soldier and the Aussie. It was a magnificent sight and his rigid cock was shuddering. "Go for it, buddy," Hassan said gently. "You know you can." He pulled down Jason's jockstrap and his cock sprang free.

Jason stared into his own blue eyes and said, "Fuck, that's gorgeous." With his remaining strength he flexed his muscles, pulled himself up straight, spread his legs wide and stretched his arms out along the guys' shoulders. In his wildest fantasy the broken muscle-god was spread-eagled on a cross, his magnificent body dripping with the semen of the men who had defeated him.

He moaned, "That is so fucking hot, man. Shit, look at him, his cock's rock hard ... he's gonna cum ... he's gonna bust his load over himself ... fuck ... fuck ... fuuuck..." His cock erupted in streams of juice that arced high and slammed into the mirror, again and again, until cum was streaming down the glass, over the face and muscular body of the exhausted jock.

There was a stunned silence and then the boys erupted in wild cheers and applause. Hassan and Adam embraced him in turn, then his boy Ben hugged him tight and said, "You were totally awesome, sir. I love you so much." Brandon chose that moment to switch off his camera. "That's a wrap," he grinned at Mario. "Nothing could top that."

There was a post-script to the festivities that gave Brandon a fitting close to his homework, proving that love really does conquer all.

As they all recovered, sipping beers, it was Hassan who raised the subject, confident as he was of his boy Eddie's talent for instant orgasms. "You know, guys," he said, "mirrors are all very well but they're not conclusive as we saw in our posing contest. However it has been said that a guy's best mirror is the reaction of other guys to him. That really proves how hot he is, how much he turns them on – like his own boy, for example.

Adam grinned. "I think I know where you're going with this, mate. The deciding contest. So far the boys haven't shot their loads, so they must be damned hot to trot. Let's see which of us can make his boy cum first. You get the picture?"

"Yeah," Jason grinned, "but let's give them a real treat. Get naked, boys – and on your backs."

Eddie, Ben and Nate all eagerly scrambled to strip naked and lie on their backs on the grass, looking up at the Marine, the fireman and the Aussie towering over them, still in their jockstraps. A short distance away Mario grinned at Brandon and said, "How about it, amico?" They were, in a sense, outside the contest as it was really about the competition between the three masters. But Brandon grinned, "Sure – give me any chance to fuck with you and I'm in."

So they did what the others did. Each of the masters knelt astride the chest of his boy – Adam over Nate, Jason over Ben and Hassan over Eddie. They didn't notice behind them as Brandon slid from his wheelchair onto the ground and Mario dropped his shorts and knelt over him. Each of the men, plus Mario, eased his butt down so his boy's cock was touching his hole. The boys gazed up at their masters, quivering with excitement, already spilling sticky pre-cum.

"Only one rule," Adam said. "You have to really cum. No fake orgasms."

Three young voices howled in protest. "I've never faked an orgasm in my life, sir," Eddie said. "Don't have to." The others were equally adamant ... "Nor me." "Nor me."

"OK, mates," Adam shouted. "On a count of three ... one ... two ... three!"

The men sat down hard on their boys' cocks then rode them vigorously, goading them to be the first to cum inside them. Mario did likewise at the same instant. Brandon gazed up through his glasses at the beautiful Italian, naked body gleaming in the sun, green eyes sparkling below his tousled black hair. He smiled down at him and said softly, "I love you, amico. I love you." And that's all it took for Brandon to tense and gasp as his cock erupted in his lover's ass.

It was several seconds later that they heard Eddie yell, "Yes! Yes!" to be followed almost immediately by simultaneous shouts from Nate and Ben. Hassan jumped to his feet, hauled Eddie up and raised his arm in victory. "The winners," he shouted in triumph. "A draw, a draw," yelled Ben, and the gathering dissolved into protestations and raunchy laughter.

They were too involved to notice the winning team Mario and Brandon lying together on the grass. "But we know the real winner, don't we?" Mario smiled. "It's love. I think your homework's complete, amico. Now you can prove to Dr. Steve that love conquers all – even three hot men getting their ass fucked by three hot boys."

The next weekend, on a Saturday afternoon, a strange thing occurred at the house... it was empty – something that almost never happened given the number of guys who lived there. Jamie and Nate, both expert surfers, had taken all the boys down to the beach at Malibu for surfing lessons. Mario and Brandon had gone too as Brandon wanted to go boogie-boarding in shallow whitewater that required no leg action, and Jamie had promised to help him.

Zack, Hassan and Jason were spending the afternoon at Hassan's house on Mulholland, Adam was working a flight to Sydney, and Bob was at an all-day business conference. Randy had gone to the construction site as he often did on Saturday when it was quiet, to go over blue-prints and plans for upcoming contracts.

Mark, who had worked a morning shift, was the first to come home in the early afternoon. After eight grueling hours on his police motorcycle he was, as usual, horny as hell, with a persistent hard-on. Jamie was normally there to relieve him of that but this time Mark accepted that he would be home later. Kid has to have some time off,' he thought to himself. Can't always have my dick up his ass' ... he grinned ... `though he wouldn't object.'

The thought of Jamie's ass made his hard-on even more urgent as he grabbed a beer from the kitchen and sat at the poolside table, still in his uniform. He luxuriated in the sound of silence – a rarity in this house – and started to relax. His thoughts were drifting – with recollections of his day and visions of his hot young surfer boy, when he was startled back to life by the ring of the bell at the gate.

Hmm, someone forgot his key, he thought. Lucky I'm home. He went to the gate, opened it and found himself staring at a tall good-looking guy in a uniform. He must have been near the same age as Mark, blond, ruggedly handsome with an obviously well-toned, lean body under his uniform – short-sleeved pale gray shirt with a white triangle of T-shirt at the open neck, dark green pants and black boots. He had a natural air of authority, though he was momentarily taken aback seeing a uniformed cop – and one as handsome as this.

"Er," he stammered, "I think maybe I got the wrong address. Does, er, does a guy called Randy live here?"

Mark flashed a gleaming smile. "Sure does, if you mean the big, tough take-no-prisoners gypsy."

"That would be him," the guy said, relaxing and casting an admiring gaze over the stunning cop.

"Yeah," Mark grinned, "he can be scary at first but a great guy when you get to know him. Unpredictable, though, and steer clear of that anger that flares up out of nowhere. He's at work right now but he should be home later. You wanna wait? Here, take a seat – I'll get you a beer."

As they faced each other sipping beer the guy was clearly a bit uneasy, but Mark said, "If I'm not mistaken that's the uniform of a Forest Ranger. Your name wouldn't be Pete by any chance?"

"How did you know that? Did Randy tell you how we met and ... Bob ... and everything."

"Everything," Mark laughed. "Not many secrets in this house. My name's Mark, by the way."

"And you ... er ... are you like Randy and Bob, you, er ... do you...?"

"Do I fuck? Hell yes. Matter of fact I came home horny as hell after my shift wanting to fuck my boy but he's still at the beach. I'm dying to get rid of this boner in my pants."

Pete laughed. "To tell you the truth that's kinda why I dropped by. I was in town and, like you said, I get real horny after working a long shift so, even though I've never been here before, I risked dropping by on the chance Randy was around. I don't generally ... I mean I'm not ..."

"I know your story, Pete," Mark laughed. "Nothing wrong with trying to get your rocks off and Randy's the guy to do it with." He stared Pete straight in the eye. "`Course, he's not the only one."

Pate inhaled sharply. "So I see. You, er, said Randy will be home soon?"

"Sooner or later," Mark said, "but don't worry, man, Randy's cool – and he doesn't own you after all. In this house we're pretty free in that regard. We get horny – we fuck. Simple as that. When their gaze met this time Mark definitely saw lust in the Ranger's eyes. He clinked bottles with him and said, "So here's to us."

At the construction site Randy was in a bad mood. The blueprints were full of errors that were going to cause delays. He slammed his fist on the drawing board and decided to call it a day. "Shit damn," he said out loud. "I gotta get home. I need Bob. I need to fuck."

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 232

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!