A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 257 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER: It was the ultimate pornographic fantasy – the macho leather-master captured and humiliated as a muscular black slave, tied naked to a tree by his neck at the mercy of his men. Zack is forced to watch Randy and Mark make passionate love. Then all the men line up behind the naked leatherman to work on his ass. Randy fucks him like a gypsy cowboy riding the ass of a bucking black stallion.

Chapter 257 – "And The Loser is ... Zack"

It was quite a trip – four men on a motorbike run with their boys. They had gone up to a remote, rustic canyon where they made camp by a stream and then split into pairs. Randy and Mark stayed at the stream, Pablo and Jamie had gone on a hike upstream where, at long last, they gave in to their sexual attraction to each other. Darius pushed Brandon in his wheelchair to join them in what naturally became an energetic boy orgy.

Zack had taken Pete up to a hidden clearing where he had once wrestled the muscular Marine, Hassan who had ended up bound and ass-fucked by the leather master. And much the same happened this time to Pete.

The biker buddies, bare-chested in leather pants, engaged in a trial of strength where Zack was, as usual, victorious. He had tied Pete up and worked on his hot body until Pete was begging Zack to fuck him and shoot his wad in his ass. It was one more triumph for the all-powerful black leather-master. Pete was one more notch on Zack's belt.

They were the last to return to camp and when they broke through the trees into the clearing by the stream it was a scene of testosterone-heavy brotherhood as men and boys lounged on the ground drinking. The noisy chatter ceased as the two shirtless leathermen arrived, with a glow round them and unmistakable streaks of jism on their chins and chests.

"Finally," Mark grinned, "the leather fraternity has graced us with their presence." Randy huffed, "So what kept you, guys? You tie each other up so good you couldn't get free?"

"Well, half right," Pete grinned bashfully."

Zack didn't say a word ... he let the guys' imaginations speak for him. It was obvious he had worked Pete over and he strode around preening, his ebony muscles flexing in a mute demonstration that he was and always would be the ultimate macho leather-master. They took their places on the ground and Pete said, "So, guys, did we miss anything?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," said Mark, "especially Darius's new game idea. Tell him Darius."

"Well, sir," Darius began, his eyes gleaming. "I once saw a movie – a porn movie actually – where a bunch of hot macho guys were sitting round a campfire – a bit like us here – and they were real horny, so they came up with the idea that they would all have sex together, but to spice it up it would be all of them against one – do what they like to him, no holds barred. It was so fucking hot I must've cum three, four times.

"Sounds hot," Pablo said, "but how did they choose the victim?"

"Well, no one volunteered of course `cos they were all top men, so they drew lots. There were so many of them they thought their chances of being chosen were slim. Fact is, they were all so fucking macho that no one dared to wimp out. So whad'ya think guys?"

All pumped up by their recent sexual adventures they looked around at each other and grinned expectantly. Their eyes settled on Randy for his seal of approval and he said, "Let's go for it."

Brandon sprang into action. He pulled himself up into his wheelchair and pulled out of his saddle bag a pen and a sheet of paper that he tore into eight. He looked up at the men, as if counting, and wrote a name on each slip of paper. He folded them, put them in his biker helmet and held it up high.

"Now let's be clear guys," Zack proclaimed. "Whoever's name is drawn has to submit to the other seven and they can do whatever they want with him – tie him up, fuck his mouth, fuck his ass, whip him – whatever. You all up for that?" He grinned with a touch of arrogance. "After what I just did to the Ranger here, I've got a few ideas of my own."

But Jamie frowned. "Wait a minute here. How do we know Brandon didn't write his own name on all eight pieces of paper?" He grinned at him. "You know he wants it bad."

Jamie and Darius jumped up, emptied the papers out of his helmet and inspected them. "They're OK," Jamie announced. Brandon bristled with mock indignation. "Did you guys really think I could pull a stunt like that?"

"Yes!" the other boys shouted in chorus.

"And I thought you were my friends," Brandon said ... then giggled. He put the papers back in the helmet, shook it and held it up high. Milking the moment for all it was worth he slowly raised his other hand, dipped it into the helmet, and pulled out one slip of paper. Dramatically held the folded paper out in front of him.

"Get a move on, dude," Pablo shouted, "you're not giving out an Oscar here."

He might as well have been as he intoned, "And the winner is ... I mean, the loser is ..." He unfolded the paper, looked at it and grinned around at their expectant faces. He held the paper up for all to see. "And the loser is ... Zack!"

There was a stunned silence and all eyes settled on the muscular black leather master. Zack stared at the ground in disbelief. The game had seemed the perfect opportunity for him to strut his stuff, to demonstrate his supremacy in working a guy over as he had worked on Hassan, the tough Marine captain, and then Pete, the authoritarian Ranger. No man was too strong for Zack and he had hoped that either Randy or Mark would be chosen and end up at his mercy.

But the tables were turned and it was he, the rugged construction boss, who was to be subjected to the sexual appetites of three masters and four boys. He involuntarily flexed his muscles and stared defiantly at the awestruck faces gazing at him. Brandon broke the silence and defended himself unnecessarily. "I didn't cheat, sir. I did it fair and square."

"Everyone knows that, buddy," Jamie reassured him. "We checked the papers."

Darius had mixed feelings, with an instinct to protect his master but also a stiffening cock at the memory of the times he had been allowed to tie up the spectacular leather-god and shoot a load all over him. The idea of seven guys working on him was a turn-on but, as he felt responsible for promoting the game in the first place, Darius said, "We could draw again and make it best of three, sir," a suggestion that was not only mathematically suspect but rejected immediately.

Zack stood up and faced them, magnificent in his leather pants and boots, his shaved head, clenched fists, the muscles of his bare torso rippling in the sun, and chiseled features set in grim determination. His deep voice growled, "The draw was fair ... I'm ready. Do what you have to."

He had expected an immediate onslaught but he was surprised as the men looked for guidance at Randy who lazily stretched his arms in the air. He was looking at Mark. "Old buddy, you and I still haven't done what we came here for, you know that?"

"Me and my cock are seriously aware of that fact," Mark grinned.

While the others were away upstream they had assumed that the men had jumped on each other right away, but they were wrong. Randy and Mark had lazed in the pool talking – about Bob, of course, about their boys, Pablo and Jamie, and about the construction on the bungalow. They well knew the pleasure of protracted foreplay and were in no hurry. They believed in the old Stevenson quote, "To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive" ... except that they had now arrived at last and they were ready ... for each other.

They stood up, locked eyes – and then locked mouths in a long, leisurely kiss. All eyes were on them, including Zack's, who somehow felt resentful that he was no longer the center of attraction. At least he could have expected to be in the spotlight and flaunt it, but even that consolation prize was now denied him.

Pete and the boys stirred, ready to leave and respect their privacy, but Randy broke away from Mark and said, "Hey, where d'you guys think you're going? Shit, do the officer and me look like guys who are embarrassed to fuck? Nah, an audience makes it hotter so sit the fuck down and get off on it ... play with yourself, get those dicks hard ... if they're not already," he grinned.

"All except you, stud." At last he turned his attention to Zack who was by now steaming with frustration. You don't get to touch that big piece o' horsemeat of yours. Mark, give me a hand."

They each took an arm and frog-marched Zack back to a tree. Randy pulled two lengths of rope and a collar from his bike's saddlebag (`never know when you're gonna need them,' he always said) and while Mark pulled Zack's arms behind him Randy efficiently tied his wrists. Then he ritualistically buckled the wide black collar round Zack's neck, looped the other rope through it and tied the other end round the tree. "You got a ringside seat here, big guy. Enjoy the show."

Zack naturally pulled at his wrists but they were tightly bound – this was Randy after all, who knew all there was to know about ropes. But he had some freedom of movement as there was enough slack for him to take a step or two forward. It wasn't even a stress position which would have at least allowed him to struggle and put his stretched muscles on display.

He looked spectacular however, and as the boys gazed at the muscled leather master, stripped to the waist in leather pants and boots, their fantasies went into overdrive – a black slave shackled for auction – an angry stallion pawing the ground, tied by the neck to a tree. But the boys were soon distracted by another homoerotic vision – the gypsy and the cop gazing lustfully at each other. That image won out and a humiliated Zack faded into the background.

After their dip in the pool Randy and Mark had put on boxers and T-shirts – Randy's a grubby brown, Mark's a white V-neck. Facing each other they ran their hands over each other's chest, feeling the muscles flex under the thin cotton. Randy shook his head ..."Shit damn, officer, that body of yours just don't quit." He pushed the short sleeves up over Mark's biceps and over his shoulders, making it into a muscle shirt, and gripped the solid mounds of Mark's shoulders.

"Fucking massive," he breathed. "Flex those biceps, man, let me look at them." Mark smiled good-naturedly, raised his arms in a body-builder pose, and Randy, in an act of body-worship, leaned forward and licked each of his rock-hard biceps in turn, kissed them, then worked his tongue across the shirt on his shoulder and licked the veins throbbing in his neck.

Randy pulled back and stared at him. "That fucking face," he moaned. "No wonder they call you a Greek God." He licked the stubbled jaw, up to his lips and pressed their mouths together. They licked each other's tongue, tasting the essence of beer and the man's saliva.

The boys were sitting on the ground watching in wonder, silent except for heavy breathing and the stroking of cocks, which they had already pulled from their pants. The sight of the swarthy gypsy and the Nordic blond cop in the foreplay of love was enough to make the boys climax over and over. Instead they suffered the exquisite pain of pulling their hands off at the brink of orgasm, gritting their teeth as they willed themselves not to cum ...and then starting over.

They didn't even notice that Darius was on his feet with his camera that he took everywhere. By now he was expert at remaining virtually invisible, the ideal documentary cameraman, filming unobtrusively without his subjects noticing. With the sharp instincts Darius had developed in compiling his story of the tribe he knew that this afternoon would be one of its sexual highlights.

By now the two men were rolling each other's nipples through the T-shirts and their long, stiff cocks were protruding from the bottom of their boxers. They teased each other in an intimate endurance contest, alternately increasing the pressure on the other man's tits to the point of submission, then relaxing until the pain subsided before starting again.

Their eyes were locked together, experiencing something close to that other-worldly sensation Randy always had with Bob of stepping into their own private, magical world. With their whole attention locked on each other the rest of the world faded from view – the awestruck boys, Pete, and even the black captive straining against the collar round his neck.

"So fucking hot, man," Randy groaned. "I gotta see that body." He leaned forward and clamped his teeth over the V-neck of Mark's T-shirt. He pulled on it, stretching the shirt, and jerked his head back until there were small ripping sounds. After one long rip he let it go and pulled back to survey his work.

"Shit fucking damn," he moaned, looking at the shirt that had torn on one side and fallen back to expose the slabs of Mark's flawless pecs, the shirt hanging just below the nipples. Randy clamped his hand over the pecs and dig his fingers into the rock-hard muscles. "Man I could bust a load just touching your flesh." He leaned forward and licked the pecs, biting the shirt and ripping it more. Then, gently, he bit the cop's tits and heard him moan in exquisite pain.

Randy raised his head, Mark's eyes flashed and he growled, "Fuck you, man, you don't get all the action here." He ripped at Randy's old, frayed shirt until it was hanging from his shoulders in shreds, then squeezed the hard nipples in the gypsy's chest hair. Both men were breathing heavily now as they gazed defiantly at each other and squeezed each other's nipples hard, their tears blurring their vision, making the image even more erotic.

The image of the swarthy gypsy and the rugged cop, two muscle-gods working on each other's chest flexing under the ripped T-shirts, was epic and the boys stopped stroking to hold back their orgasms for later.

The effect on Zack was galvanizing. The sight was so wildly erotic that his cock pulsed in his pants and he groaned with lust. He tried to avert his eyes but found himself hypnotized by the contest between the two men. He desperately wanted to join them, to feel what they were feeling, and strained at his ropes, backing up to the tree and scraping the rope against the rough bark in a futile effort to break it.

By now the men's shirts were hanging in shreds from one shoulder and their eyes were challenging each other, determined not to be the first to submit to the exquisite pain that flared through their bodies. Pablo and Jamie gripped hands, even though Pablo was rooting for Randy and Jamie for Mark. Randy grinned at Mark and said, "Man you are such a fucking alpha stud, I wanna see you at my feet – would be such a fucking turn-on."

It wasn't so much the pain as the desire to please Randy that made Mark slowly bend his legs and allow himself to be forced to his knees at the feet of the powerful gypsy.

The boys gasped and Zack yanked at his collar as the men stopped working their tits and Mark pulled Randy's monster dick over the top of his shorts. He looked up at the gypsy with a slight smile, licked the huge head of his cock, then took the whole length down his throat, gagging as it pushed against the sensitive membrane deep inside.

Randy ran his fingers through the blond hair, then grabbed Mark's head and pulled his face back off his dick. "Man, that is damn beautiful – a gorgeous cop on his knees at my feet chowing down on my hunk of meat. Makes me feel so friggin powerful, one muscle-god face-fucking the other. You know you get off on it. I've seen you, officer – whenever you've stopped off at the work site on your bike you've always lusted for the rough construction boss barking orders. Now he's here with his dick down your throat. So chow down, cop."

Mark went to work on Randy's cock, grabbing his hips and pulling them back and forth so the thick rod pounded his face. What Randy said was true. Sometimes the uniformed cop stopped at the construction site during his patrol just to get a look at Randy, covered in dirt, his sweaty tank clinging to his sculpted torso.

When he left the site Mark would either speed home to fuck Jamie or, if he was in mid-shift, would ride to a secluded place where, sitting astride his bike, he would pull his dick out of his uniform pants and jacked off, spurting semen all over the shiny fuel tank in front of him. With the macho image of Randy still vivid in his mind the cop bent down and licked the semen off the tank, fantasizing on sucking cum out of the boss's cock.

And now the fantasy was a reality and the kneeling cop swallowed the construction worker's cock voraciously down his throat, clenching his lips round it, inhaling sharply through his nose each time his face was buried in the wiry mass of Randy's pubic hair.

Zack was pulling at his restraints, stomping on the ground like a maddened bull. A whipping would be better than this – he could take physical pain. But this was psychological torture, forced to watch Randy, his best buddy at work whom he loved like a brother and lusted for, having his dick sucked by no less than the muscular blond cop.

The bare-chested leatherman was desperate to get free and leap in, to take Randy's place – or Mark's. He fantasized about sucking Randy off, then Mark – or having them both eat his huge black dick. Anything – he would do anything to touch them and submit his body to them.

Pete and the four boys were mesmerized, torn between the ferocious cocksucking of the near-naked cop and the tormented writhing of the leatherman tethered by the neck, his ebony muscles flexing and straining like a chained animal. Darius used all his skill to alternate between filming one pornographic sight then the other.

Brandon, his fists gripping the arms of his wheelchair, could not bear the sight of the magnificent leather master reduced to a slave writhing in humiliation, his heavy breathing coming in sobs. The boy glanced up at Pete who gave an encouraging nod. The other boys gasped as Brandon broke away from them and nervously wheeled himself in front of Zack.

Brandon cleared his throat, gulped and blinked behind his black rimmed glasses. "Sir, It was me drew your name so I feel kinda responsible and I have to make things feel better. There's only one way I know how to do that – if you don't mind, sir."

Through his haze of rage and frustration Zack looked down at the boy in amazement as he pulled off Zack's boots, unzipped his leather pants and pulled them off over his feet. He rolled back to get a good look at the bound leather master, buck naked now except for the collar round his neck, his long black club swinging between his muscled thighs. It was the ultimate pornographic fantasy – the leather-god captured and humiliated as a muscular black slave tied naked to a tree by his neck, forced to serve the sexual appetites of his captors.

Brandon rolled forward, staring at the intimidating horse-dick pointing straight at his face like a pole. He took off his glasses, opened his mouth and wheeled closer, closer ... until his mouth rolled over the cock that slid all the way down his throat. "Aaaah," Zack sighed deeply, fired up by the intense feeling in his cock along with the sight of Randy also getting his dick sucked.

For the first time Randy pulled his gaze away from Mark and subjected Zack to the laser flash of his steel-blue eyes. Zack gasped, realizing that Randy was fully aware of the torment he suffered. And there was worse to come as Randy started to play mind games.

"Look at you, stud – stripped naked and helpless. I knew a whipping would never break a guy as tough as you. You can take any physical pain, but this is rough, eh, watching me fuck the face of this gorgeous cop at my feet? You feel the kid's hot mouth on that big schlong? Think of it as the police officer's mouth you're ploughing and you can feel what I'm feeling. Imagine – you've broken free, the construction worker and the cop are at your feet sucking your cock in turn. Come on man, get free – I want you here – I wanna suck your dick."

"Fuck you, man," Zack howled. "You son-of-a-bitch you're driving me wild. Let me go, man ... whip me, fuck my ass, just set me free." The naked leatherman's ebony muscles gleamed as he pulled desperately at his collar, veins bulging in his throat, his biceps and shoulders straining as he tried to sever the ropes round his wrists and break free. "Aaaagh" he yelled as Brandon used all his skill on his cock.

Brandon was having a blast, playing a pivotal role in the contest between the two alpha males as the gypsy taunted the half-naked leatherman and reduced him to begging. Brandon knew he even had the power to bring things to a climax and he clamped his lips hard over the pulsing black rod as it pistoned in his mouth. Zack writhed in ecstasy and howled at Randy.

"Man that feels so fucking hot. I'm so close to busting my load. Please, man, let me see the cop drink your jizz. I gotta see that. I love you, man. Please..."

Randy looked back down at Mark and said, "Let's give the prisoner what he wants eh, buddy? You're such a fucking turn-on, man, with that mouth wrapped round my cock. OK, here it comes ... fuck ... fuck ... yeaaah!" He rammed Mark's head down on his pulsing dick and blasted semen hard into his mouth, making the cop gag as he desperately swallowed the flood of cum streaming into him.

Zack was hypnotized by the sight of the two muscle-hunks in their torn shirts, Randy's long black hair flying as he threw his head back with a animal howl, the blond cop heaving and choking as semen oozed from his mouth, down his chin and onto his chest. Seizing the moment Brandon gulped the leatherman's cock down deep clenched his throat muscles tight and heard Zack yell as his cock erupted, spewing out a massive pent-up load of cum.

Unlike Mark, Brandon, who had been taught well by Eddie, didn't choke or even gag as he relaxed his throat muscles and smoothly swallowed every drop of the black man's spunk. Brandon finally slid off the cock and rolled himself back, watching in awe as Zack slumped to his knees against the tree, his head hanging down from the black leather collar round his neck, its long rope stretched up to the branch above, his hands roped behind him.

Randy too sank to his knees, gazed at Mark's tearful face, then embraced him, sucking his own semen from the cop's mouth.

The boys had watched speechless as the incredible twin blow-jobs reached their climax. The hottest image was the naked leatherman on his knees, head bowed, sobbing with relief and the release of his juice that still dripped from his cock. Mesmerized, Pablo and Jamie joined Darius and Brandon and all moved close to him. Pete came and stood beside Zack, grabbed the rope and pulled his neck up so he was forced to gaze dazedly up at them, tears of humiliation running down his cheeks.

"You up for this boys?" Pete asked, and they nodded eagerly, their eyes shining. Their cocks were still out of their pants after stroking them and holding their orgasms back for just such a moment as this. Still pulling up on the rope Pete wrapped his other hand round his cock. He and the four boys gathered round the prisoner and pounded their rods. They were already so pumped that it didn't take long.

Too weak to resist Zack looked helplessly at the five cocks inches from his face. He was groaning as he felt the first splash hit his face. But what started as a light shower quickly gathered force into a storm, pelting his face and chest with a deluge of semen. The boys yelled with exhilaration as they aimed their streams of cum at the black face, the shaved head, the ebony slabs of his chest and his bulging shoulders and biceps.

Zack's jaw sagged and immediately five jets of cum slammed into his open mouth, making him gag. He swallowed desperately but felt he was drowning in cum, smelling it, tasting it, choking on it. The storm seemed to last forever, but finally it slowed to a trickle and he opened his eyes, seeing through a film of jism five cocks shaking their last drops over him.

The boys pulled back and Pete tightened the rope at Zack's collar so his head was resting against the tree bark. Darius, who had still filmed with one hand while jacking off with the other, now moved closer for his final shot of the homoerotic scene.

Zack, the proud, strutting construction boss, an alpha male held in awe by his men, a strict leather master, heading up a team of bikers, the ultimate man's man ... was now on his knees slumped exhausted against a tree, bound tight. The naked black muscle-god was smothered in semen, streaming down his handsome face, oozing from his mouth over his stubbled jaw, dripping down over the slabs of his chest, his shoulders and arms, running over the ridges of his abs and soaking his pubic hair.

It was a pornographic fantasy of a tough leather-master overcome by his boys, stripped naked, tied up, forced to cum and to suffer the indignity of being deluged by their semen. Darius's final shot was of a tough, rugged alpha male transformed into a cum-soaked slave bound in naked degradation.

A howl of laughter diverted the boys' attention away from Zack toward Randy and Mark. They had been on their knees, their arms folded round each other but now they were rolling on the ground, still with their arms round each other but in a wrestling hold more than a loving embrace. It was a light-hearted struggle and soon Mark had Randy trapped on his back beneath him, his wrists pinned to the ground. Panting hard he grinned down at him.

"So, you think you're the King of the Gypsies, eh big guy, making me suck your dick and drink your jizz? But you're dealing with law enforcement here and cops don't like to get beaten. It's payback time, buddy."

"Oh is that right? Think again, asshole." Randy flexed one arm and used his great strength to power out of the hold, pushing Mark's hand up higher and higher until he rolled him over on his back. They were grappling again, rolling over and over until they splashed into the pool. The struggle continued in the shallow water and mud, each man playfully taunting the other. "OK, stud," Randy panted, "let's settle this with the time-honored ritual the tribe always uses to settle fights. First man naked gets his ass fucked."

"You're on," Mark grinned. He was familiar with this tribal tradition, had watched many such fights, and they instantly began making grabs at each other. The shredded shirts went first, torn off their shoulders and hanging round their waists. They lunged at the thin boxer shorts as the two equally matched bodybuilders grappled in the mud.

Darius tightened his camera focus on them filming yet another contest. It ran through his mind that he was always filming fights, friendly or fierce, between the masters of the tribe. What was it with these guys? They were all so macho dominant that they were constantly testing each other. Their lives were one long trial of strength. Hm, that last phrase stuck in his mind and he suddenly had his title for when he finally wrote the saga of these men's lives in one long story.

He jerked his attention back to the battle that was heating up. Still rolling in the water and mud Randy suddenly grabbed Mark's neck and pushed his head underwater with one hand and used the other to rip off his shorts and bury them in the mud. The effort knocked him off balance and as Mark surfaced, his face streaming water, eyes blazing, he easily grabbed Randy's boxers and tore them off, swinging them over his head and tossing them ashore in triumph.

The men sprang to their feet and circled each other warily. Darius gasped as he stepped back and filmed them in full frame, two magnificent muscle-gods, one blond the other dark, their bodies streaked with mud, naked except for the ripped fragments of shirt hanging precariously round their waists. Their eyes locked on each other's, psyching each other out with a grim smile on their lips. They darted forward several times, lunged at the shirts and missed.

Suddenly, Mark curled his foot round Randy's leg, yanked hard and Randy fell back into the water with a splash. Mark instantly fell forward and reached for the shirt round his waist. "No you don't, cop," Randy growled. He pressed his foot against Mark's chest and pushed hard, sending him staggering backward on his feet.

Randy's eyes glinted with triumph, but what he didn't realize was that Mark had been able to grab his shirt an instant before he was shoved back. Randy stared in shock at the cop towering over him, his shredded shirt still intact round his waist and waving Randy's over his head in triumph. He taunted him, "Look at the King of the Gypsies now, guys, naked as nature intended. You lose big guy ... get that ass ready for some tough law enforcement.

Pete and the boys were on their feet cheering, while under the tree the naked slave pulled at his ropes – his cock already hard as steel again.

Randy was lying face-down in the mud at the edge of the pool, pounding his fist on the ground – "Fuck ... fuck ... fuck..." He dragged his naked body out of the pool and across the grass before collapsing on his stomach close to the bound Zack.

The boys were in a state of shock and awe, but Pablo didn't accept the fight at face value. "Randy took a dive," he said defiantly. "He never loses a fight and he could've beat Mark, but he let him win, that's obvious."

"Not obvious to me," said Jamie with equal certainty. "Mark's beat him before and he did now. You saw how pissed Randy was at losing."

Brandon chimed in, "Who cares if Randy threw the fight? My guess is he wants to get fucked by Mark – hell, who wouldn't – and, like it or not, we're gonna watch the boss's ass get ploughed."

"Well I, for one, like it," Darius grinned. "What's not to like?" He was taking a pause after closing out this chapter with a two-shot of the big gypsy slumped on his belly in front of the cum-soaked slave, then had pulled back to show the muscle-cop standing over him, legs astride, naked except for the shredded wet shirt clinging to his waist. "Brandon's right. I don't give a shit how it went down but the fact is the cop is gonna pound the construction boss's butt ... and yours truly will be there to film it."

He pulled from the back of his bike the folding mirror he had brought, a photographer's sun reflector that he often used to sharpen the light on a shoot. He set it up, adjusted the angle to light the scene, and turned on his camera just as Mark hooked his foot under Randy and flipped him over on his back. Randy gazed up at him and said, "Well, looks like you got what you wanted all along, officer – my ass."

Mark chuckled, "What you want, you mean. I know you too well, big guy – whenever you watch me fuck Bob I know you wanna be the guy with the cop's bone sliding in your ass. Well now you got it."

He knelt between Randy's legs, hooked them over his shoulders and leaned forward, forcing the legs back until Randy was bent double, his knees beside his face. Mark rose up on his toes so the only parts of him touching the ground were his toes and his hands that pinned Randy's wrists on either side of his face. His body was stretched straight above Randy, just slightly arched.

Darius struggled to hold the camera straight as he focused on the cop's stretched body, his back muscles rippling, arms and thighs flexed, his blond hair thick over the nape of his neck. And best of all, the head of his rigid prong was pressing against the hole of Randy's helplessly exposed ass.

"Your ass and my dick are wet from the pool, buddy, so no need for lube. Let's just do it."

"Aaagh..." Randy threw his head back and howled as the cop's iron rod speared his ass, driving deep into his gut. Mark pulled back and Randy braced for another pile driver – which didn't happen. Instead Mark eased his cock back into Randy's ass slowly and Randy's scream changed to a deep sigh. He gazed up at the smiling, Nordic-God face and moaned, "Shit, man, that's fucking perfect ... it feels so ... oh fuck, fuck ..."

"No point in making you cum too soon," Mark smiled. "Let's take it nice and easy." And so he did, watching the gypsy's stubbled face fall from side to side in ecstasy as his cock slid in and out of his ass, probing a little deeper each time.

Suddenly Mark raised his eyes and stared at Zack's face a few feet from his. Once again Zack was staring into a pair of eyes set in the chiseled features of a handsome face. This time the eyes were blue gray and the hair was blond – tousled wet and falling over the man's high forehead. He saw Mark's body moving to a gentle rhythm, heard the deep, sighing sound from the man beneath him.

And again he felt the agony of frustration – so near to these glorious men but unable to touch them. He could feel what Randy was feeling in his ass, and what Mark was feeling in his cock. It was almost like he was fucking and getting fucked at the same time – and he desperately wanted both. "He pulled at his bound wrists and at his collar and looked pleadingly at Mark. "Please, man," he sighed – almost a sob. Please...

Mark had mercy on the naked black slave. He pushed Randy backward so his face was almost under Zack's shuddering cock. Then Mark smiled at Zack, leaned forward ... and clamped their mouths together. It was the first human contact Zack had felt except for his cock in Brandon's mouth. He had endured the agony of wanting to touch the men, fuck them, get fucked by them, kiss them ... And now here he was with his tongue in the cop's mouth.

He kissed ferociously like a starving man, his whole body shaking with hunger for the naked cop. He licked Mark's face, his eyes, his cheeks, his neck – an animal begging his master for release. Randy, still wallowing in the exquisite sensation of Mark's cock in his ass, now felt the head of Zack's cock resting on his forehead. He could feel it pulsing.

Mark teasingly pulled back from Zack who stared at his face. "I love you, man," he groaned. You're so fucking beautiful ... You're gonna make me ..."

"Wait," Mark said. Still fucking Randy he dropped to his knees, took his hands off the ground and squeezed Zack's nipples, rolling them hard in his fingertips. His eyes pierced Zack's. "... gonna make you what, Zack? Gonna make you cum? Gonna make you shoot that pent-up load of jizz over your work buddy while I fuck his ass?"

He was driving Zack wild ... and he lost it. "You mother-fuckers ... let me go ... I'm gonna fuck you ... fuck you both ... Aaagh." His body tensed, muscles flexing as his cock reared up and blasted a ribbon of cum from behind onto Randy's face and chest. There was a pause, then another shower of semen, and more. His juice had built up as he watched the men make love, wrestle in the mud, then one drive his cock into the other's ass. And now his bulging balls exploded, raining semen onto the dark gypsy writhing beneath him.

And through it all Mark continued to plough Randy's ass, increasing the tempo. He grinned down at the muscular cum-soaked gypsy. "Man, you look fucking spectacular smothered in your own slave's cum, your ass impaled on your buddy's dick. Time for you to surrender your own jizz, big guy. And you know I can make you."

Mark resumed his original position, stretched rigid on hands and feet, paused, then slammed his hips down. And suddenly his cock was transformed from slow-moving rod to battering ram, as he increased the speed and force and drove it savagely into the gypsy's ass. "Aaagh," Randy howled in pain but with a lust for more. "Yeah, fuck me, officer ... fuck that ass ... oh yeah ... bust your wad in the boss's ass ... Aaagh ... No ... no ...can't take anymore, man ... I gotta cum ... you win, man, I submit ... Aaagh!!"

He felt Mark's hot cum flooding his ass, his body spasmed, and his cock blasted a shower of jizz up onto Mark's chest. Darius's final shot was of one bodybuilder stretched over the other, cum dripping from the cop's chest down onto the heaving gypsy, mixing with the juice that had erupted out of their naked black slave.

Half an hour later the excitement had cooled and all seven men were sprawled under the trees munching on snacks and sipping beer. Zack had been cramped from kneeling so long, so Randy had lengthened the rope from his collar and released his hands from behind his back so he could stand or, as he was now, crouch on hands and knees with his collar roped to the tree.

He had made an attempt to unbuckle his collar or loosen the rope but realized that Randy's use of a padlock had made them escape-proof. It was another stunningly homoerotic image of the naked black leather boss reduced to a broken slave kneeling on all fours, body smothered in semen, his head hanging down in humiliation.

The boys all had permanently hard dicks at the sight But Brandon, although he knew this was a fantasy, part of Darius's game, felt sympathy for the man he knew as a macho construction boss, a hot leather master who had always shown kindness to him. And now he was reduced to this indignity. The boy whispered a few words to Pete and Randy who nodded their consent."

Brandon put together a plate of snack food and put it on his tray table along with a bottle of water and a beer. He wheeled himself over to Zack and cleared his throat. "Excuse me, sir, but I thought you might need this. Zack looked up, saw the proffered water, pulled back up onto his knees and grabbed it, pouring half of it down his throat and the rest over his head and face. Then he took the beer and swallowed it down in two long gulps.

Brandon gazed at the face, streaming with water, sweat and jism, and said, "Sir, I just want to say how much I admire you, and that right now you look more gorgeous than I have ever seen you before. You are so hot – every boy's fantasy. Someday I would be honored to get fucked by you, sir. Pete wouldn't mind. Hell, you could fuck him too. Just so you know, sir."

The boy blinked nervously behind his glasses. Zack looked at him, even managed a weak smile and said hoarsely, "It's a date, kid." But his knees were still sore so he fell back on all fours, the least painful position. Brandon placed the plate of food on the ground in front of him and silently wheeled himself back to the group. The three senior boys threw their arms over his shoulders in a display of fraternal affection.

Starving hungry Zack bent his face to the ground and sucked up the food straight from the plate like a dog, the ultimate image of total degradation. It was another pornographic tableau, an erotic fantasy that gave everyone a boner.

But that there was also a sense that Zack's humiliation had at last reached bottom. They all admired the gorgeous leatherman, Randy's equal on the construction site, and while it was really exciting to see an alpha top-man turned into a slave, bound by the neck, they hoped his next trial would be the last.

They looked at Randy who sensed the mood of the group, a mood he shared. "OK, boys. So far it's been Mark and me tormenting Zack. So now you get to choose the last act. What would you like best?" There was an uncomfortable silence as they all glanced at each other. "Come on guys ... You, Pablo, what do you want, boy?"

Pablo sat up straight and assumed the role of boss's boy and leader of the others. "Sir," he said firmly, "Zack looks so incredibly hot right now – like Brandon said, hotter than he's ever looked – and I'll probably never get the chance again to see him shackled naked like a slave. So ..."

"So ...?" Randy prompted.

""So I'd really like to fuck him, sir."

There was a sigh of relief from the other boys, who had been holding their breath waiting for someone to speak for them. Randy looked around and saw shy smiles and sparkling eyes. He winked at Mark and Pete. "Can I take it Pablo speaks for you all?" They nodded eagerly. "That goes for you guys too?" Randy asked the two men.

"Pretty much," said Mark. "I always assumed it would come to this."

Kneeling on all fours, staring at the ground Zack had never felt so degraded – a naked prisoner in a slave collar, body soaked in semen, hearing his captors bargain for how they were going to use him. He braced himself, knowing what came next.

"Here," Randy said, jumping to his feet, "give me a hand you guys." Mark and Pete helped him gather five sturdy logs and ropes, lashing together two pairs as A-shaped legs. They laid the biggest log across the tops, forming a trestle, like a sawhorse or a gymnast's vaulting horse. Mark got a blanket from their gear, doubled it over and threw it over the top beam.

Randy untied the rope from Zack's collar, pulled him to his feet and, with Pete's help, dragged him to the trestle and laid him face down along its length. Randy tied his wrists down to the feet of the front trestle, and Pete did the same to his ankles at the back.

Darius set up his sun reflector mirror in front of Zack, then raised his camera to film the incredible sight of the black leather master spread-eagled naked, face down on the beam, arms and legs splayed downward and tied to the trestle, his ass hanging helplessly over the back end. The boys hung back, awestruck at yet another porn icon, the muscle-god lashed down to satisfy the lust of his buddies.

"OK," Randy said. "It was your idea Pablo, so you go first." Pablo was unnaturally nervous as he walked up to Zack. He was in no mood for roughness and had brought a tube of lube which he now squeezed into Zack's hole, then onto his own cock. Carefully he guided his cock between the black cheeks and pushed it in. "Aaah," Zack moaned and raised his head. He found himself staring into the mirror, looking at Randy's boy behind him ... and groaned as he saw a line of six other guys behind Pablo waiting their turn.

The black leatherman inhaled sharply, clenched his jaws and his fists, and tensed his whole body ... bracing to get gang-fucked.

Pablo was tentative at first and fucked gently, so in awe of Zack that he almost didn't dare to hurt him. But that changed as a sense of power surged through him at the idea of fucking the tough construction boss, Randy's macho buddy. He looked down at the muscles rippling in his back and felt cum surging through his cock.

He was soon being jostled by the other senior boys, Jamie and Darius, and they ended up trading off. One shoved his rod into the black ass to be quickly replaced by another. When Pablo's turn came again he looked into the mirror and saw Zack's face staring back at him. The image of the rugged face grimacing in pain was so intense that the boy couldn't hold back.

"I'm cumming," he yelled, driving his rod deep one last time and blasting a load of jizz into the shuddering ass. Jamie watched the prisoner's back heave, his head fly back and his mouth open in an animal howl. The erotic sight was too much for Jamie who pulled Pablo away, shoved his dick into the cum-slick ass just in time to bust his load and add his jizz to Pablo's.

As Darius took his turn behind his master, Brandon rolled round in front of Zack whose face was hanging over the front end of the trestle. He shoved his dick under his face, held the sides of his shaved head and pushed his mouth down on his rigid pole, making him choke. Brandon looked across at Darius and said, "Hey, dude, let's work together on this."

Darius grinned, "Right there with you, dude." He pushed his long ten inches into his master's ass and the boys held each other's eyes as Darius fucked ass and Brandon fucked Zack's face.

The naked leather boss was getting spit roasted by the boys and he struggled helplessly, tears springing from his eyes. Darius had fucked his master before, of course, but this time was different with so many men watching his humiliation. He was glad he couldn't see his master's agonized face and focused instead on his young buddy in the wheelchair.

As they locked eyes, their cocks on fire, they realized that neither of them could hold out much longer and Darius said, "You wanna cum, big guy? You ready?" Brandon's eyes opened saucer-wide under his glasses and he yelled, "Here it comes, dude ... Now!"

Zack felt juice spurting into his mouth and his sore ass and he tried desperately to swallow the cum pouring from Brandon's cock. Once again it seemed like he was drowning in cum and it was a long time before the cocks ran dry and pulled out. His body shook and he sobbed quietly Tears ran down his cheeks, semen oozed from his mouth and his ass and ran down his legs. He had endured the indignity of the boys' group fuck ... now for the men.

The three masters shared a camaraderie with Zack – he was their equal, one of the tribe's leaders, so they all felt a need to bring his suffering to a conclusion. Like the boys, they teamed up, taking turns working on their buddy's shattered ass.

Pete came first. He drove his stiff dick into the pool of jizz in his ass and Zack raised his head. Their eyes met in the mirror and Pete smiled grimly. "It's payback time, stud. Sure it was hot getting tied up and fucked by you but, as one leatherman to another you know I have to get my revenge. You would do the same ... so here it is.

He pulled back, plunged in again and his rod became a pile-driver. Zack flexed his muscles to withstand the onslaught. It was one thing to get fucked by boys, but this was an alpha male, a Forest Ranger who played rough. Zack gripped the legs of the trestle, gritted his teeth and braced against the long pole pounding his ass. Pete glanced over at Brandon whose eyes were shining, watching his master get his own back on the naked leather-god.

But Pete had no intention of prolonging the punishment. He felt they were brothers under the skin, two bare-chested bikers in leather pants and boots, though Pete was now naked like all the other men – including his buddy lying helplessly bound before him. "Like you said to me before," Pete said, "I'll go easy on you this time – til the next time we meet." But going easy' was a relative term and it took another fierce pounding until Pete finally yelled and blasted his juice inside his biker-buddy's ass.

When Mark took over Zack knew he was in for an easier ride. Mark could be a tough son-of-a-bitch when necessary but, as a cop, he saw a lot of violence and pain on his daily beat – and hated what he saw. He was sworn to `Protect & Serve' so, faced with a man, his friend, tied down and unable to fight back, all his protective instincts kicked in.

"Look at me, man," he said gently. Zack raised his head and stared at the smiling blue-gray eyes in the mirror. "Your ass has been fucked raw, buddy, but do you want my jizz in it too?"

"Yeah," Zack groaned hoarsely. "Fuck me, officer."

Marked was surprised by the slickness and heat of the plundered ass as he eased his cock inside. He watched the pain drain from the face in the mirror, saw it relax, and heard Zack sigh as he felt the long rod slide slowly inside him. "Oh, man," Zack groaned, "that feels so good. Keep doing it, buddy. Keep doing it `til I cum."

Feeling the hot membrane closing round his cock Mark made love to the battered ass, much as his cock daily made tender love to his boy Jamie's gorgeous butt. "Feel good, buddy?" his deep voice asked softly. "Yeah, real good." Zack sighed. "Make me cum, man. Please ..."

When Mark poured his juice into Zack's ass it was like a soothing balm healing the membrane that had been fucked raw. "Oh shit, man, that feels so ... " Zack breathed heavily, his magnificent body shuddered against the beam he was tied to, and "aaaah" he heaved a long sigh of relief as his cock emptied its juice under him.

There was a long silence in the clearing, with only the sound of rustling leaves and rippling water. But the calm was not entirely without tension. They all admired Zack's endurance hugely, but they also knew there was one man who had still not had his turn behind the black man with cum now streaming from his ass down his legs.

As Mark took his place with the group Randy stood up, stretched, then strode lazily over to Zack and stood behind him. Zack raised his head and stared at the laser gleam of the steel blue eyes he knew so well, the man he always lusted for. "Well," Randy grinned, "the cop was real gentle with you... real nice and easy. But you and me, buddy, we know each other well, and you know I don't do anything nice ... and easy. I play rough.

"All those times we've fucked behind the sheds at the construction site after work ... let's see now, the last time you got to hold me down and fuck my ass. Shit, you were brutal – even made be beg and submit to you. I admire you, big guy – you've taken more punishment today than I've seen any man take in a long time, and you've endured it all like a real man. But it seems to me I haven't once heard you submit. So we gotta put that right. After all, this is the climax of our show. So let's get it over with."

Randy had brought a rope with him that he now tied to the collar round Zack's neck. He pulled on the end from behind, forcing Zack to raise his head, his tear- and cum-stained rugged face staring wildly at Randy's reflection in the mirror. Randy held the stretched rope in his right hand and placed his left on the small of his back, like a cowboy preparing to ride at the rodeo.

"Shit," Randy growled, "that's the way I like you best, man, tied by the neck ... like I'm riding my favorite black stallion, showing him who's boss. All you have to do is let me hear you submit, man. Not a word you're familiar with, I know – but this time you will. So ... open the trap and let the rodeo begin!"

With one massive plunge he drove his beer-can thick cock straight into the already savaged ass, pulling on the rope so Zack's head jerked back and he howled like an enraged animal. And then Randy fucked, one of his legendary, ferocious fucks. The watching boys gripped hands tight as they watched the unbelievable scene – a rodeo fantasy with the wild gypsy cowboy riding the ass of the bucking black bodybuilder.

Zack's naked body was heaving, his muscles straining for release, his neck twisting in the collar, tugging against it in a wild and futile attempt to break the rope. "Aaaagh," he screamed as the huge rod pistoned inside his raw ass.

It was Randy at his most savage, eyes blazing, his black hair flying over his demon gypsy face, his biceps bulging as one hand pulled the rope taught and the other arm was raised high in the air in triumph. Every muscle in his body rippled as his hips slammed back and forth, his cock jackhammering the agonized ass.

Zack looked desperately into the mirror and his eyes were trapped in Randy's penetrating gaze. "This is it, man," Randy yelled. "You know I can break you, like I can break any wild stallion. You gotta give up, man. Simple ... you submit ... I bust a load in your ass ... and you're free."

"Go to hell, asshole," Zack groaned, choking against the collar.

"It's you who's in hell, man, and you know it. OK. You asked for it." He ratcheted up the intensity of his already brutal assault on Zack's ass, and when the agonized captive saw the grin spread over the gypsy face he knew he was beaten. Pain was flaring through his entire body and his vision started to blur as he howled, "OK... OK ... I've had enough ... I can't take anymore. I'm gonna cum ... I give up ... I submit, man ... I submit ... Aaagh!"

His body shook, tears streamed from his eyes, his hips arched up and he shot another stream of cum underneath him as he felt Randy's cock explode in his ass. Randy waved his arm up high with a whoop of triumph knowing he had broken the spirit of his buddy ... the alpha male he admired as an equal in strength and endurance.

His cock drained, he pulled out, ran to Zack's head and quickly untied his arms, while Mark and Pete ran forward and released his feet. Randy reached under Zack's arms and pulled him gently to his feet. The exhausted man slumped against him and Randy held him steady by folding his arms round him in a tight bear hug. Zack managed to raise his head and stare through his tears into Randy's eyes.

"Fucking amazing, man," Randy said. "You were fucking magnificent. I could never do that with any other man but you. Shit, you'll be a legend in this tribe after that. I love you man ... I love you like a brother." Randy pressed their mouths together and they kissed hungrily, two alpha males at the peak of their masculinity, glorying in their ability to inflict and endure pain and still stand tall among men.

At last there was a burst of raucous cheers from the boys, knowing they had witnessed a seminal event in the history of the tribe ... an event that Darius had captured on camera, which he waved joyfully in the air. Pete and Mark supported Zack on each side, his arms over their shoulders, while Randy ceremonially unlocked the padlock at Zack's neck, removed the collar and displayed it up high.

"Gentlemen, I give you Zack, the toughest son-of-a-bitch I've ever known. I am proud to call him my buddy, my workmate and my friend. We're honored to have him as a pillar of our tribe."

As the cheers erupted even louder the tears in Zack's eyes this time were tears not of pain, but of pride at his endurance, and his total acceptance by this extraordinary group of men and boys.

Later, after a cleansing dip in the pool, and a much needed meal put together by the boys, Zack finally slept, wrapped in the arms of his boy Darius who was bursting with pride as he grinned round at his young buddies. The others had paired off too, Mark with Jamie and Brandon lying in the arms of Ranger Pete.

Randy had gone a short distance away with Pablo until he found a cell-phone signal so he could call Bob. It was a long conversation as Randy related all the happenings so far, with Pablo excitedly grabbing the phone occasionally to add his colorful commentary. Finally Randy said, "Shit, here I go gabbing on about us, and not a word about you. What you up to there, Bob?"

"Well," Bob laughed, "nothing as crazy as your testosterone-macho shenanigans, which, by the way you have to demonstrate to me when you get back. But it's shaping up to be an interesting weekend. As you know, Hassan, Eddie and Mario are up at Steve's house, leaving just me and the twins here. But Jason and Ben just got here, and Adam and Nate right after. All four boys are in the kitchen cooking a late lunch but it sounds like there's more yelling and laughing than actual cooking.

"Adam and Jason look spectacular, of course, in gym shorts and tanks, ready for a workout together before they eat. You know how competitive those gym jocks can be so I'm just here to watch and adjudicate – and blow the whistle if there's a foul. Altogether a cool domestic scene."

"Oh yeah?" said Randy doubtfully. "You seem to have it all planned out ... but you know what they say about the best-laid plans. What if the unexpected happens?"

"Ah well then I play it by ear. If I get into trouble I'll be sure to call you ... provided you're not, er, all tied up with your buddies," Bob chuckled

"Asshole," Randy laughed. "I love you, big guy, you know that. Can't wait to see you ... and demonstrate some of our `shenanigans' – just for you."

He shut off the phone, put his arm round his boy, and they went back to join the others.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 258

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!