A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 274 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER: The boys fantasize about the erotic pictures of Grady in his new Tarzan movie coming to life. So Grady, with Hassan and Pete, re-enacts the stunning climax of the film. "The bound, macho Tarzan, naked except for a ragged loincloth, was at the mercy of the two bare-chested soldiers, his magnificent body flexing as he struggled to get free. The soldier snarled, `We're gonna enjoy working you over, big guy'."

CHAPTER 274 – "TARZAN VERSUS THE SOLDIERS"

Escaping from the publicity surrounding him the hot new actor Grady had taken refuge with Mark and Jamie at their remote shack in the solitary Guadalupe Dunes. The gorgeous young jock had been longing to get fucked by the Greek God cop and now he did. In fact throughout the weekend Grady's ass got serially fucked in turn by the cop and his boy Jamie.

At the end of the weekend when they delivered Grady back to Steve's house there were firm vows of continued, perpetual friendship. Steve laughed, "We better be careful, Grady. That glow of yours could set the house on fire. Welcome home, stud."

But a cloud crossed Grady's face. "Thanks for saying that, Steve, but I hope you guys will still want me staying here after what's gonna happen next week. You remember that photo shoot at the studio? Well my manager says People Magazine is gonna give it a center spread in the next issue so the publicity will crank up again for a while. Sorry guys.

"Grady," Steve reassured him. "You can stay here out of sight for as long as you like. And personally I hope that will be for a long, long time."

When the magazine hit the news-stands and the Internet the next week it was all the boys in the tribe's house could talk about. It caused a storm of enthusiastic – and exaggerated – comment and opinions in what could only be described as rave reviews from all the boys.

The headline screamed "The Next Tarzan." It was to be a big-budget, special effects-filled retelling of the Tarzan legend, set mostly in the jungle but also with scenes back in aristocratic England in a version faithful to the original story where Tarzan was actually Viscount Greystoke.

The pictures of Grady were truly stunning, mostly with him in the traditional loincloth but also in period dress, several of those shirtless too. The actor would have been sensational by any standards, but the boys were even more excited as they actually knew the man ... he was Grady, living with Steve and Lloyd, hiding out there. To be strictly accurate only Eddie and Jamie had actually met Grady, but as Eddie sat with Brandon drooling over the magazine he decided to do something about that.

The next day Hassan and Eddie, as they often did, walked up the path from their guesthouse to have lunch by the pool with Steve, Lloyd and now Grady. But Grady noticed with regret that Eddie was more diffident around him, treating him with a reverence that stifled his usual stream of chatter. It was the magazine of course that tinged the warmth of friendship with the curse of celebrity now that his pictures stared out of the pages of a national publication. Grady knew he had to nip this in the bud.

"Hey, Eddie," he said. "This is still me, your pal Grady. One thing I'm determined to avoid is having this bullshit publicity change me. And I hope it won't change our friendship either. We're still pals aren't we?"

That was all it took to bring the urchin sparkle to Eddie's eyes. "Sure we are, sir ... and on that note ..." He blushed. "Er, would it, er, be OK if I had my best friend come up here to meet you?"

"Of course," Grady smiled, "provided he can be discreet ... not tell anyone I'm here."

"Oh, no worries there, sir. Any secrets he knows he'll take to the grave with him. `Course, he's a long way from the grave, sir. I mean he's the same age as me and I don't intend to kick the bucket anytime soon. I mean ..."

Hassan cleared his throat noisily and silenced his boy. Grady smiled ... good, the garrulous Eddie was back. Eddie went off to make an excited phone call, and half an hour later there came the sound of an engine out front. "He's here," Eddie said breathlessly.

A few minutes later Eddie's friend came round the side of the house and Grady opened his eyes wide in surprise. The boy was in a wheelchair. Eddie went to meet him and proudly introduced him to Grady. Hopping from one foot to another he said, "Sir, this is my friend Brandon. Brandon, meet Grady ... who you already know in a way."

Grady stood up and shook Brandon's hand. "Hello, sir," Brandon said, shyly at first. But then his eyes gleamed and he picked up a copy of the magazine he had in his lap. "Jeez, you look so much hotter in real life than you even do in these pictures. You're totally gorgeous, sir, if you don't mind my saying so."

"I don't mind at all, Brandon," Grady laughed. "Compliments always gratefully accepted." He looked around and asked, "Er, who brought you here?"

"Brandon drew himself up in his wheelchair and said with a hint of reproach, "Nobody, sir. I brought myself of course. I have my own truck that Pablo fitted up for me – he's Randy's boy – and I have my own motor bike too. I came on that. Would you like to see?"

Grady liked this boy's forthright, confident manner and caught the touch of proud independence in his shining eyes. "I sure would, Brandon. Let's go." He grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and began to push it, but Brandon looked back sharply. "No thank you, sir. I can do this myself ... I always have." Again Grady caught his look of fierce independence and smiled, suitably chastised.

As Grady walked beside him round the house Brandon said, "Sometimes I come here with my master, Pete. You'd like him, sir. He's a Forest Ranger and he's gorgeous – tall, handsome with a drop-dead body and this monster cock that ... Sorry, sir, too much information." Not enough actually, Grady thought, as Brandon went on. "Anyway this time I came on my bike – and here it is," proudly showing him his motor trike.

Grady had never seen one before so Brandon wheeled himself onto the trike platform and gave him a demonstration. Grady gazed admiringly at the boy. There was something special about him – his determination, fierce independence and the open, straightforward, way he talked. Grady's heart went out to him and he found his eyes misting up as he watched the brave young kid in his biker helmet sitting straight-backed in his wheelchair, riding round the driveway pumped with pride.

Grady felt a surprising warmth for the boy. He would like to get to know him better ... his Forest Ranger too.

When they returned Grady and Brandon were in animated conversation about Grady's young cousin, Tyler, who was handicapped in the same way as Brandon. As they sat down with the others Brandon said, "If you like I'll give him a call and talk to him about all the stuff there is out there for guys like us. There's no reason he can't be as independent as me, and I can do most of what the other boys do – just ask them."

Eddie beamed round at Hassan and the other guys, really stoked that his friend and Grady were getting on so well. Hassan smiled at Eddie and ruffled his hair.

"That would be great, Brandon," Grady said. "Tyler tends to isolate."

"I used to do that that too, sir, `til I met these guys. Bet he watches a ton of porn and beats off to it. But he really can join the land of the living – and the fucking – like I did, eh, Eddie?"

"Dude, you fuck like a jack rabbit. About the only thing you can't do is jump like a jack rabbit." They both collapsed with laughter and Grady realized that disability jokes were all part of the fun. "You should see us at home, sir," Eddie said. "They call us the three amigos."

"So who's the third?" Grady asked. "Why didn't he come with you?"

The boys fell suddenly silent and blushed, and Grady realized he had put his foot in hot water. Brandon put on his black-rimmed glasses – always a sign he was getting serious – and said, "Our other buddy is Ben sir. He's a great dude but he's, well he's Randy's kid brother and he didn't think Randy would approve of him coming to meet you, sir."

Grady frowned. "Shit, what is it with this guy Randy? Does he control everyone down in that house like he tried to control me? Sounds like some kind of control freak."

"Oh no, sir," Brandon sprang to a spirited defense of Randy. "He's really the master of the house, with his lover Bob. Randy's a great guy, in fact he's my hero. When I was living alone and met Eddie, Randy was the first guy to come to my apartment. See I had bought those pull-down shelves and was saving money to have someone install them.

"And suddenly, early one morning, Randy showed up at my door and he installed the shelves for me. I didn't have any money to pay him so he did what he called `taking it out in trade'. While he was drilling the shelves he... like, drilled my mouth too. It's something I'll never forget, swallowing all the jizz he poured into me.

"Since then he's kinda protected me, like he protects all the boys. Recently I rode my bike down the coast to a biker bar where I got into real trouble with a couple of thugs. Well Randy raced down there, beat up the guys and rescued me. Then him and me spent the night in a motel there and he made love to me most of the night. He protects his kid brother Ben, too, and his brother Steve, which is what he was doing when he met you and..."

Suddenly he clammed up, blushed bright red and blinked behind his glasses. "Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to go there."

"It's OK, Brandon, I like the way you speak your mind. And you've given me a lot to think about. So is Randy Ben's master, as you call it, as well as his brother?"

"Oh no, sir. Ben is Jason's boy. He's a fireman and ... here I've got a picture of him." Brandon rummaged in the side pocket of his wheelchair and pulled out several papers. He grinned as he explained, "I got so used to getting off on videos all those years that I still keep some sexy pictures right here in case I wanna jack off during the day – and who doesn't, sir? See, here's a couple of Pete – this one in his Ranger uniform and this one in just his boxers."

Grady stared at the handsome, rugged face and muscular body of the tall Ranger, and what made his cock stiffen was the authoritarian look in the man's eye. He was definitely a man's man, an alpha male used to giving orders and having them obeyed, not unlike the cop Grady had recently given his ass to, over and over again.

"And here's Ben's master Jason in this calendar – August page." He flicked through the pages and held it out to Grady. "Here, sir."

"Holy shit!" Grady's eyes opened wide and his cock throbbed in his shorts. He had seen the picture before of the shirtless fireman and had whacked off fantasizing what it would feel like to get fucked by this muscle-god. "And you actually know him? I always thought they must have used a model playing a fireman for this picture."

"Oh, no, sir, he's a real life fireman, sir. He lives alone down by the Arroyo, except Ben spends a lot of time with him. He's got his own gym and works out a lot, and it's real hot when he flexes looking at himself in the mirror. He does a lot of that. You should go down and work out with him, sir. You two would get along well. Anyway, when I'm not beating off to these pictures of Pete it's Jason, or the other guys like Randy or Bob or Zack or Adam and ..."

"Hey, hey, stop kid, you're making my head spin."

"Sorry, sir. And now I have someone else I'll definitely use as jack-off material in the middle pages of this." He clutched the copy of People Magazine and placed it carefully in his saddle bag with the others – a new addition to his jack-off gallery. "I love pictures like these, sir. I stare at them and imagine they come to life and I fantasize about what happens to the guy. It's almost like the real thing."

"What if the pictures really did come to life and you could watch what the other guys do to him?"

"Oh well, sir, that would be the best ever – my fantasies coming to life. But I ain't holding my breath on that one. I don't see how it could ever happen." Grady glanced at Hassan and Steve and saw that they shared his glimmer of an idea.

"Hey, Brandon," Steve said. "You mentioned that Pete gets off at about five today. Why don't you call him and ask if he'd like to come here straight from work and join us for dinner – you too of curse." Brandon's eyes sparkled and he pulled out his cell phone.

Hassan stood up and said, "I gotta get going, Steve. I gotta go into work and film a few pickup shots and stills for that promotional video I've been working on. Won't take long. I should be back about five o'clock also..." he grinned, "that is, if I'm invited to dinner too, looking like a jungle warrior. I'll still be in my battle gear."

"Wouldn't have you any other way, soldier," Steve grinned

After Hassan left, Eddie and Brandon cleared lunch away, then joined Steve, Lloyd and Grady for an afternoon round the pool.

Down at the tribe's compound a similar scene was unfolding as men and boys started drifting in from work and sat down at the long table by the pool, sipping beer and munching on the appetizers that the twins always set up at his time of day.

Zack and Darius came in from their house across the street. When Mark came home from work in his uniform Jamie closed the office and the cop took him straight to their bedroom. After they returned with their usual glow, the Aussies, Adam and Nate came in from their house next door and Jason came to join his boy Ben.

The last to arrive were Bob in his business suit and then Randy, grimy as usual in his old cargo pants and work boots and greasy tank, looking fiercer than usual after a tough day yelling orders to the crew on the construction site. Without a word of greeting he sat down facing Bob, the twins put an opened bottle in his hand, he took a long swig of beer, almost draining the bottle, and wiped his forearm across his mouth with a noisy sigh of satisfaction. He looked round the table, checking on his clan, and asked, "Where's Brandon and Eddie?"

The boys, Jamie, Darrius, Nate and Ben were huddled at the end of the table their eyes fixed on the pictures of Grady in the now-infamous magazine. Ben raised his head and explained, "Sir, they're up at Steve and Lloyd's with Grady. Hassan and Pete will go straight there when they get off work."

"Why didn't you go with them?"

Ben shuffled nervously. "Sir, I didn't think you would approve, sir, after what you ... you know, like ... Grady and all." Randy was taken aback and looked at Bob for help, but Ben jumped in again. "Here, sir, do you want to see the pictures of Grady? They're awesome."

He slid the magazine across the table and Randy looked down grudgingly. Despite himself his cock stiffened in his pants as he stared at the spectacular man – the `New Tarzan' stripped down to a loincloth, then as Viscount Greystoke, shirtless in tight period pants and horse-riding boots holding a horsewhip. Randy flashed on the time he had tied this same man to Steve's deck and tortured him with a brutal fuck, then left him with a huge butt plug in his ass.

He looked up and realized they were all staring at him waiting for his reaction. He stood up and growled, "Look, you all know there's no love lost between me and this ... this ... actor. But I just have this to say. Bob tells me he's being hounded by the press so he's keeping a low profile holing up at my brother Steve's.

"Now I know how talkative some of you boys can be so I'll say this just once. If one word of this guy leaks outside this house the culprit will answer to me personally and that won't be pretty." His eyes flashed. "That's an order! The guy is a guest of Steve and Lloyd and has a right to his privacy and our protection and we'll see that he gets it."

He sat down and took another swig of beer. Bob stared at him in amazement. Randy didn't like the new guy and had recently treated him savagely, but his old protective instincts kicked in instinctively. Randy was the self-anointed protector of not only the tribe but of anyone they had given shelter to. So now he was protecting Grady. Forget Tarzan, Bob thought ... Randy was the real `noble savage' around here.

Bob smiled at him across the table and mouthed, "Love you, man." Then he exchanged smiles with Mark, both of them sharing the same thoughts about the man they both loved. Randy stared back at Bob who had by now taken off his suit jacket, rolled up his shirtsleeves and loosened his tie, a tuft of chest hair poking over the open neck of his shirt. He looked hotter than hell and Randy gave him a piercing look which left no doubt about its meaning.

Randy stood up and as he left the table he squeezed Ben's shoulder. "As far as I'm concerned, little brother, I have no problem with you going up to Steve's and joining your buddies and ... this guy Grady. But you're Jason's boy and you have to get his permission first. Randy strode toward the house with complete confidence that Bob would follow.

As Bob stood up Mark said to him quietly, "I'd come with you, stud, except that I just fucked my boy Jamie's brains out and I wanna spend time with him."

"Next time," Bob smiled, and followed Randy into the house.

In their bedroom Bob sensed confusion in Randy. The wild gypsy part of him wanted to rip Bob's clothes off and fuck the crap out of him, but there was something else on his mind too, something troubling, and Bob guessed what it was.

"Randy, when you were looking at the pictures of Grady in Ben's magazine there was a look in your eye that I've seen before. You got a hard-on and you obviously want to fuck him again, for real this time. Buddy, don't take this wrong but, er ... are you intimidated by Grady!"

As soon as the words left his mouth he knew he had said exactly the wrong thing. Sure enough Randy's eyes blazed. "Intimidated! Me? By an asshole pretty-boy model like that?"

"Now don't get mad, Randy. I just meant that most men would be intimidated by a beautiful hunk like that. He's drop-dead gorgeous and, by all accounts, even though he's soon gonna be a big movie star, he's a real nice, down-to-earth guy.

"The guys who've met him – Steve and Lloyd, Hassan, Mark and their boys – say he's incredible sex – loves to get his ass pounded, which should make him cat-nip for you. I bet you get a boner when you think about the time you fucked him, however savagely, and I for one would be intrigued to meet him."

Bob had a sinking feeling that he was digging himself deeper into a hole. The veins stood out on Randy's neck as he jabbed Bob in the chest. "Now listen asshole, let's get a few things straight here. First of all, I am not `most guys' who would be intimidated him. No-one intimidates me, and I don't give a shit about this punk or his ass. He can get gang-fucked by the whole fucking tribe for all I care, it won't include me.

"And second of all, the guy is trouble and he'll set foot in this room at roughly the same time as hell freezes over. He jabbed Bob's chest harder to punctuate his words making Bob step backwards. "Do I make myself clear, man ... uh? ... uh?" Bob backed into a small table and fell over it, landing heavily on the floor.

Randy stared down aghast. He had done it again! He fell on his knees stammering, "Oh shit, Bob ... I'm sorry, man ... I didn't mean to ... are you OK, buddy? Here let me help you on the bed." Gently he lifted Bob bodily off the floor and lowered him carefully onto the bed. Then he knelt beside him and his eyes were brimming with tears as he pleaded, "Please forgive me, man. I know I always say that when I've knocked you down but ... I always mean it.

"It's just that ... OK, you're right in a way. I am scared – scared that if ever this guy meets you he'll fall in love with you as everyone does and you'll fall for him. You're right, he's a fucking knockout with the face of a god and built like a brick shithouse, and soon he's gonna be a glamorous movie star and I'm just this grungy construction worker." He winced as his pulled at his dirty tank smelling of sweat.

"I mean ... I'm nervous, man ... I don't wanna lose you. You'd never ... like ... you'd never leave me for him, would you?"

Bob sighed in disbelief. "Randy I'm not even gonna dignify that question with a response."

"What does that mean, buddy?"

"It means it's bullshit," Bob flared. "Total bullshit. And it's always total bullshit whenever you say it. Hell, you're like some timid little first-grader with abandonment issues. I can't believe you're still spewing this crap, like you've done whenever a new man joined the group. It's kind of insulting to me when you think about it – that you don't trust me any more than you did the day we met. What the fuck is my love for you worth?"

"It's worth everything to me, buddy." Randy was still pleading. "You're part of me, man – I can't live without you. That's why I get nervous when a gorgeous muscle-stud like this Grady comes along."

"You are such a baby," Bob smiled, taking pity on him. "Where's the hot stud who got up from the table just now, stared at me with those laser eyes and strode off to the house. I followed you, man, `cos I thought you were gonna make love to me, so why don't you cut the crap and get down to business. That'll remind you that you're the boss and I'm totally in your power, which I am – even if Adonis himself walked into the room."

Randy stood up, pulled Bob off the bed and folded him in his arms. It was as if Bob's strength flowed into Randy. The macho gypsy was back, taking his rightful place with his man. Randy sank to his knees on the floor and pulled off Bob's loafers and black socks. Then he unbuckled his pants, unzipped them and let them drop round his ankles. He stared up at the handsome business executive in his dress shirt, red tie loose at the collar and his white boxer shorts.

"Man. You should always dress like this," Randy murmured, stroking the boxers over Bob's stiffening rod hanging inside them. "Then you'd have men like me falling at your feet and doing this ..." He pulled down Bob's shorts and began to lick the long cock that sprang out. He licked the sensitive head, making Bob inhale sharply, then took the cock in his mouth and swallowed the whole length down his throat.

"Aaah," Bob sighed contentedly, running his hands through Randy's tousled black hair, still sprinkled with the dust of the construction site. Randy squeezed his throat round his lover's cock and Bob moaned, "Much more of this and you'll be drinking my jizz, big guy."

Randy stopped sucking and stood up. "Can't have that, can we? Long way to go before I let you bust your load. Hell, I can make you do that any time I like, you know that?"

"Yes, sir." Bob gazed into his eyes with the hint of a smile. Randy loosened Bob's tie and let it hang round his neck, then unbuttoned his shirt all the way down, pushing it apart to reveal his white tank underneath. He ran his hands under the shirt, feeling the slabs of his pecs under the tank. "So fucking gorgeous," Randy growled. He pushed the shirt and tie off over Bob's shoulders and Bob stepped out of his pants, wearing nothing but his tank stretched over the ripped muscles of his torso.

"Holy shit, man, whenever I see you like that it's like seeing you for the first time. So damn beautiful. I'm so fucking proud that you're mine. (That hint of ownership again that Randy always assumed, and that turned Bob on so much – to be owned by a rugged gypsy like this.) Randy stood back and stared at him with animal lust in his eyes. He kicked off his work boots, pulled off his sweaty socks and ripped open his cargo pants. He yanked out his huge, beer-can thick cock and let his pants and shorts fall round his feet.

Like Bob, Randy was now naked except for his greasy, frayed tank. With his fist round his cock he taunted Bob. "Is this what you want, man? You want my fucking pole up your ass?"

"You know I do. I crave it, always do, from the first day we met. Please, sir. Fuck me."

Randy came close and stared at him with his piercing pale blue eyes. "You called me a baby, asshole. That was cold. Wrong thing to say, man. You knew I'd have to punish you for that. Huh, probably why you said it." He put his hand on Bob's chest and shoved him backward so he lay on his back, his heart pounding with anticipation.

Randy knelt on the bed, straddling Bob's waist, and stared down at the dark-haired muscle-god's square-cut face with its strong, stubbled jaw. The golden tan of his broad shoulders and flexed biceps contrasted with the white cotton of the tank stretched over the mounds of his chest. Randy reached down and squeezed Bob's nipples through the thin fabric, pulling on them making Bob groan with painful pleasure.

Randy bent his head and licked the nipples, then bit one of them, yanking at the tank with his teeth until it ripped. He did the same on the other side, then bit each exposed nipple in turn. The pain made Bob instinctively try to push him away, but Randy grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the bed beside his head. Randy's eyes blazed. "Fuck you, man. You trying to get away from me? Fat chance. Get this straight, asshole. Out there you may be mister high and mighty, but in here I'm the boss and I do whatever I want to you. Is that clear?!"

"Yes, sir," Bob murmured, falling in love with the gypsy savage all over again. Fire raged through Randy's body now as he bent his head again and ripped at Bob's tank with his teeth, tearing the fabric down from the holes at his tits, then biting the neck band and ripping the tank down the middle. Randy released Bob's wrists and pulled back on his knees, staring down with satisfaction at the now naked man with the shreds of his tank hanging off his flexed muscles.

His eyes burned into Bob's. "That's how I want you man. Your body is spectacular like that. Makes me crazy. That's how I'm gonna fuck you."

Staring up at the wild, swarthy gypsy Bob was seized with a rush of adrenaline. He reached up, grabbed the neck of Randy's tank and ripped it down the middle, then yanked under the armpits, and tore the tank clear off so it fell round his waist."

"Mother-fucker," Randy roared. He spat in his hand and pushed wet fingers roughly into Bob's ass. He spat again and spread his saliva over the length of his cock. He grabbed his shredded tank from around his waist, leaned forward and crammed it into Bob's mouth, then pinned his wrists to the bed again.

"Son of a bitch," Randy growled. "Guess I'm gonna have to really show you who's the top man around here. Bite down on that shirt, man, you're gonna need it ... squeeze my sweat out of it and swallow it down ... choke on it. Here's what you get for challenging me, asshole."

"Aaaagh!" The captive screamed into the gag, biting it and feeling rancid man-sweat pour down his throat as Randy's massive dick slammed deep in his ass. At the very moment Bob thought he would pass out Randy pulled back ... then ramrodded him again."

Randy was the expert. He took a man to the threshold of pain, the brink of consciousness, and then paused, leaving the man craving for more. Soon his long, thick rod was like a piston in his lover's ass and Bob was writhing under him, his handsome face thrashing from side to side, hair flying, his teeth grinding into his gag, gulping down every last drop of sour sweat, overwhelmed by the taste and odor of the man and the jackhammer pounding his ass.

He stared up at Randy – a dark-demon blur of chiseled features, long black hair, clenched, stubbled jaw and those hypnotic blue eyes that transformed all pain into carnal ecstasy. The pile-driving cock buried itself deeper and deeper in the cauldron of his ass and Bob yielded to his master, body and soul. Pinned down, gagged and mercilessly fucked, the muscular alpha male was entirely in the power of the wild gypsy.

Tears poured down Bob's face and, in his delirium he saw the two men, one pounding his cock into the other's ass. He saw the gypsy face fly back and grimace, saw his body flex and heard him roar. He felt hot liquid gushing into his ravaged ass and, screaming into his gag, felt his own cock explode. Sweat and semen were splashing on his face as everything went blank.

It was only seconds later that Bob felt a tap on his cheeks and heard, "Buddy, are you OK?" He opened his eyes to see the gypsy face again, only now all the savagery had gone and he was smiling tenderly down at him. Randy had removed the gag from Bob's mouth and now licked the tears and semen from his eyes and face. He asked again, "You doing OK, buddy? Man that was fucking awesome."

Bob realized with relief that Randy's cock was still inside him and he relaxed and smiled. "Randy, no one in the world could do that to me except you. I love you, buddy."

Randy grinned. "I said I could make you cum whenever I want to and I'm gonna do it now."

"OK," Bob said, "and I'll take you to a place where all your doubts and fears will disappear."

As Randy eased his already stiffening cock gently in and out of Bob's ass they gazed into each other's eyes. It took only a few seconds for them to melt into their own reflections and enter their own private world they knew so well. "See?" Bob said gently. "Now you're safe, buddy, and so am I. No intruders here. If the going gets rough we can always meet here. And I'll always be here waiting for you."

As Randy fucked gently they drifted in a kind of nirvana, far away from the petty troubles of the other distant world. Randy bent his head and their lips met, breathing the same breath, thinking the same thoughts, and eventually experiencing the same orgasm as Randy bathed his lover's ass in warm juice and proved that he could, indeed, make Bob cum whenever Randy wanted to.

Ben had easily received permission from Jason to go and join his friends up at Steve's house. "Why don't you come too, sir?" he asked. "After all, you and Grady have a whole lot in common. You are both totally gorgeous and you both have guys drooling over your pictures – him in the magazine and you in the calendar."

The fireman smiled at his boy. "No, kiddo, not yet. When I meet Grady it's gonna be on my own territory and on my terms – but you can watch if you like."

Ben's blue eyes sparkled and laughed, "It's a date sir. I won't be gone too long at Steve's and then can I come and sleep with you at your house?"

"If you don't I'll whip your ass, boy." Jason broke into a beaming smile. "Of course, if you do I'll still whip your ass?"

"Thank you sir." Ben kissed Jason, then ran off through the gate.

Up at Steve's house Eddie and Brandon had got over their nervous awe of Grady and were monopolizing him with eager questions about the movie he would soon star in. They knew that Ben had called Steve to ask if he could come up and join them so it wasn't a surprise when they heard a truck pull up at the front of of the house. As Ben bounced out onto the patio Brandon yelled, "He's here" and wheeled round the pool to meet him. Brandon's eyes sparkled. "Hey, dude, glad you could make it Come and meet him. Wheeling with one hand and pulling Ben by the other they went over to Grady and Eddie. "Sir," Brandon said rather formally, "this is our friend Ben." Then proudly, "Ben, this is Grady."

Gray stood and shook Ben's hand, holding it longer than usual, mesmerized by the pale blue eyes and the dark gypsy face with his long black hair. He was a younger version of Randy and Grady felt his cock getting stiff in his shorts.

"Hi, Ben, said Grady. "Man, you're just like..."

"Like Randy," Ben said shyly. "He's my big brother. I'm Jason's boy – you know, the fireman – but Randy's my brother and I do just what he tells me." Another one, Grady thought to himself. Does Randy dominate all these guys? Then he recalled how Randy had dominated him and his cock got stiffer.''

Eddie pulled Ben down beside him on a bench and they all bent forward eagerly as Grady sat and they resumed their interrogation.

Grady said, "So you were asking me about the clothes I'm gonna wear. Well, you know Tarzan was originally the son of an aristocratic English family at the turn of the last century, so there are some clothes from that period when he goes back to England for a short visit. But as you can guess most of the film is set in the jungle and Tarzan wears nothing but a skimpy loincloth."

Grady chuckled. "As a matter of fact the studio's wardrobe department actually fitted me for one. They've got a wild sense of humor and played a trick on me, to make me feel at home I guess. The first loincloth they fitted had no briefs underneath – just a couple of ragged pieces of cloth, one over my ass, the other hanging over my dick like a fig leaf. They told me that's what I would wear in the movie. God knows how it would look swinging through the trees."

"But it was a joke, sir?" asked Brandon, the boys hanging on his every word.

"I didn't know that at first but then the crew all burst out laughing. Of course there will be skimpy briefs underneath. They gave me the fake one as a memento."

"I guess you wore the real one for the photo shoot, sir, like this one in the magazine where you're wearing only the loincloth, leaning against a fence with your arms stretched to the sides along the top rail. Actually, sir," Eddie blushed "... well we ... us boys, sir, we kinda thought it would be hot if his arms were actually tied to the rail – you know, like he's taken prisoner.

"Funny you should say that, Eddie, `cos there are a couple of scenes near the end where Tarzan is captured by soldiers and tied up as they interrogate him. There's a scene where he's caged like an animal, then one like you describe with his arms roped along a tree branch almost like a crucifixion pose while they work him over. He takes a lot of punishment but tricks them by pretending to submit to them. They untie him and he has this knock-down-drag-out fight with the toughest of the soldiers. It's the climax of the movie, the last scene. "

"And who wins, sir?" Brandon asked.

"Ah, you'll have to see the movie, kiddo to find that out. All I can say is that one of them in the end lies sprawled unconscious in the dust."

The boys' hearts were beating wildly and they all had obvious bulges in their shorts. Ben asked nervously, "That fake one they gave you, sir – the loincloth thing. You still have it?"

"Sure, I'll always keep it as a souvenir of my first day on the studio lot. I have it in my room here." Seeing their eager, lustful eyes staring up at him Grady threw his head back and laughed. "Oh right, I see where you're going with this. Brandon said he fantasized about seeing these pictures come too life ... so hell, why not? Not the whole bondage/torture thing, of course, but at least I can bring this one picture to life for you. Just have to change out of these shorts and into that rag that passes for a loincloth. Would you like to see that?"

"Yes please, sir," they said in chorus. Brandon added, "Would make my fantasy real, sir."

Grady ruffed his hair. "Anything for you kiddo." He had become fond of Brandon but he was so independent it was hard to do much for him. But at least he could make his fantasy come true.

Steve and Lloyd had been listening to the conversation and Steve now winked at Lloyd, who had seen that playful look in his lover before. Second only to great sex, Steve loved to stage-manage events. Often it was a technique in one of his unorthodox therapy sessions, but sometimes its aim was purely sexual. This was one of those times – a golden opportunity.

As Grady stood up Steve said, "Come on Lloyd, let's help Grady set this up for the boys. Steve loitered in the kitchen to make a few quiet phone calls, while Lloyd accompanied Grady into the guest room where he watched lasciviously as Grady stripped naked. Then Lloyd helped him tie the loincloth round his slim waist so a ragged piece of brown cloth hung over his cock and another over the mounds of his ass.

Steve came in and gasped at the sight of the beautiful, muscular Adonis stripped down to a thin loincloth. "Holy shit, man, you look sensational. Now I see what the boys have been drooling over in that magazine. Hell, it doesn't take a psychiatrist to know that movie's gonna make a fortune – and make you a star. The whole audience is gonna cream their shorts. OK, come with us."

They led him outside to a small stand of trees by the side of the house. When they came to a small clearing in the middle Steve said, "There, that one should be perfect." He was pointing to a long, horizontal branch about shoulder height. "See what you mean," Grady grinned. He leaned back against the branch and spread his arms casually along it, looking just like the publicity shot in the magazine. "Think this'll bring the picture to life for Brandon and his pals?" Grady smiled.

"Can't miss," said Lloyd. "But I saw how much you like Brandon – hell, everyone loves Brandon – and I know a way you could make his fantasy twice as good." He and Steve went behind him, picked up ropes from the ground and quickly tied his outstretched wrists to the branch.

Taken by surprise Grady's instinct was to pull to get free but he was tightly bound, his arms stretched out crucifixion style. "Hey, guys, I didn't wanna take it this far, I just wanted to duplicate that picture. What – you gonna play the whole scene and torture me like the script says they torture Tarzan?"

"Nah, relax," Lloyd laughed. "Nothing like that. Besides, it's soldiers who work him over in the movie, right? Last time we looked we're no soldiers. Nah, we just wanted to give the kids a hot picture to work on – their imaginations will do the rest. Brandon and his pals can build a whole fantasy just by looking at you. It'll be multiple orgasms – jism flying all over the place."

"Yeah," Grady said, warming to the idea, "guess it will turn them on at that. I can see young Brandon's sparkling eyes now, blinking behind those glasses of his. OK, guys, let's go for it."

The boys were still chatting excitedly by the pool, staring at the loin-clothed Tarzan in the magazine and imagining it coming to life. Suddenly they heard Steve shout, "OK, boys, get your asses over here and bring chairs. Rising to a pitch of excitement the three boys made their way to the trees, Brandon leading the way in his wheelchair, Eddie and Ben dragging pool chairs after them.

They stopped at the edge of the clearing, jaws dropping, eyes wide in disbelief. It was the picture they had been drooling over, but this time it was real. The hot, macho Tarzan, tall and muscular, was leaning against the branch, naked except for the ragged loincloth covering his dick. His arms were stretched out to the sides along the branch, legs apart, his magnificent body gleaming in the sun that streamed through the gap in the trees like a spotlight.

But there was one difference from the photo and it made them gasp. His wrists were bound to the branch and his muscles rippled as he pulled at them, his handsome face grimacing with the futile effort to get free, his tousled black hair falling over his masculine square-cut features.

The boys stayed in the trees at the edge of the clearing where they had a perfect view but were unobtrusive in the shadows, Ben and Eddie sitting on either side of Brandon. Completely mesmerized, all three boys pulled their dicks from their shorts and began to stroke them. Steve and Lloyd had left so Grady was alone in the clearing and the boys' fantasies kicked in right away. Tarzan had been captured and bound and was struggling against the ropes binding him as he waited for the soldiers to come back and deal with him.

It was an incredible image and as the three boys stroked their cocks Ben and Brandon were careful to restrain themselves from cumming too soon. No such restraint in Eddie, Hassan's `young gusher' for whom cumming was as natural as breathing. He stared at the handsome face thrashing from side to side looking at his bound wrists and soon the boy was groaning loudly as semen spurted from his cock onto the ground.

No one paid any attention. Grady was intent on putting on a show of the bound jungle man struggling to get free and the boys were riveted by the spectacle – even Eddie who had not missed a beat after his climax and was still stroking his hard dick.

The absence of Steve and Lloyd also went unnoticed as the clearing became a fantasy world apart from reality. They also didn't hear the faint sound of two vehicles arriving at the front door where stage-manager Steve was waiting to implement the next act of his plan.

In the clearing the prisoner had stopped struggling and bowed his head in surrender to his inevitable fate. With the instincts of an actor and his own capacity for fantasy, Grady was losing himself in the part, becoming the character, thinking the man's thoughts as he would eventually do on the film set. Besides, it was highly erotic for him not to act the part but to actually become the jungle man in a loincloth, the muscular alpha male in naked bondage at the mercy of his captors.

So when his keen hearing picked up the rustling of leaves he raised his head, on high alert. And then the whole fantasy took on a richer dimension as he gasped at the sight of a uniformed man breaking through the trees into the clearing.

Tall, blond, ruggedly handsome, the man had an obviously muscular build under his Forest Ranger uniform – a short-sleeved gray shirt open halfway down to give a glimpse of the white tank underneath. He wore black boots and dark green pants with a heavy black belt that, along with the whip he held, gave him an air of ruthless authority.

"Well, well," the deep voice said, "they told me I'd find you here." The Ranger strode forward, put the handle of the whip under the captive's chin and pushed it up, forcing him to look him full in the face. As they locked eyes Grady felt his cock jolt and tried to stifle his feeling of lust for his captor. "Yeah, they said you were strong but we can make any man submit. What you got to say for yourself, big guy?"

Grady clenched his jaw in stubborn silence and was rewarded by the back of the rangers hand across his face, hard enough to sting and make his head fly to one side, but not so hard as to hurt or mark him. Deep down Grady knew he was in no danger but the fictional man he had become – the captive Tarzan – braced for the torture he faced. Further blows were forestalled by another voice from the trees.

"Well what d'ya know? What we got here, Pete?"

The Ranger stepped aside and Grady found himself staring at a heavily muscled Marine in battle gear – camouflage pants ticked into combat boots and a sleeveless denim shirt hanging open over his powerful chest. Military dog tags hung from his neck down into the cleft between the slabs of his pecs. Small black camouflage stripes on cheeks of his square-cut Arab/Asian features completed the ferocious picture.

Grady knew it was Hassan, of course, who had come home straight from his video shoot, but he had never seen him like this, as fierce and intimidating as this. Again he struggled to free his arms, but this time because he wanted desperately to touch his cock and jack off looking at the muscle-stud soldier.

The boys were almost passing out with excitement. Their fantasy had come true, only it was more electrifying than they could ever have imagined. The bound macho Tarzan was at the mercy of these two soldiers, his magnificent body flexing as he struggled to get free. Their fantasy made them lose sight of the reality of their masters Pete and Hassan facing Grady. They were deep in the movie, the bondage scene Grady had described where Tarzan is captured and worked over by brutal military men.

"He's refusing to talk," the Ranger said ... so far."

"Oh yeah?" the Marine growled. "Time for some action, buddy." Hassan shucked off his shirt and took the whip from Pete who also stripped for action. He pulled off his shirt and Grady gasped at his sculpted torso outlined under the white tank. Pete pressed himself against Grady's chest, rubbing the fabric of his tank against his nipples. He said threateningly, "I haven't even begun with you yet, asshole."

He stood back, pulled off his tank and stood beside the Marine, both men now stripped to the waist, their muscular torsos gleaming in the sun, their legs apart, Hassan tapping the whip in his hand. Grady's cock was rock hard as he gazed at the wildly homoerotic sight of the two soldiers preparing to work on him.

He looked down at the bulge in Hassan's fatigues and the shape of Pete's long cock stretching down his leg, outlined under the tight pants, and he knew exactly what he wanted. He would have submitted right away, but forced himself to stay in the role and maintain his defiant silence.

The Ranger went behind the prisoner and folded the crook of his arm round his throat in a tight head lock, pulling his head back and making him gaze helplessly at the soldier wielding the whip. Immobilized, Grady's chest was defenselessly exposed and he flexed his pecs to withstand the first lash across his chest, then another and another, hard enough to cause pain but no damage.

He was awestruck by the sight of the shirtless, darkly handsome Marine, stripped down to fatigue pants and boots. It was pornographic. Grady watched the muscles rippling in the soldier's arm and shoulder as he wielded the whip ... he felt his strength, felt the lash on his chest ... imagined the feel of his massive cock in his ass and ... "Aaagh!" The prisoner screamed, his iron-hard cock rose up, pushing aside the loincloth, and a stream of white juice blasted from it and splashed like an offering at the Marine's feet.

There was three more shouts as the boys all busted their loads, gazing in disbelief as the tortured Tarzan fell sobbing to his knees, his arms now pulled up tight, wrists still roped to the branch. The Marine towered over him and snarled, "Now, talk, damn you."

The tortured muscle-god, his body straining like it was stretched on the rack, raised his face streaked with tears and sweat, stared defiantly at the soldier and groaned, "Fuck you." The Marine raised his arm to strike again but the Ranger restrained him. "He'll never surrender to the whip, man, but I have another weapon in mind." He faced the prisoner, unzipped his pants and pulled out his long cock, rigid as a poker and pointing straight at Grady's face.

"Lube it up, man." Grady looked up at the shirtless Ranger, the head of his cock inches from his face, and reflexively dropped his stubbled jaw. Pete pushed his cock slowly into the open mouth, inch by inch by inch, until it was pressing against the back of his throat, making him gag.

Hassan stepped forward, reached down and grabbed the back of Grady's head. "Boy, you gotta learn to suck a soldier's dick ... like this." He pulled his head back off the cock, then rammed it down again, pulled it back by the hair and pushed the face down again. Grady was helpless, on his knees, his arms stretched up in bondage, his tear-stained face being rammed downward as the Marine forced him to swallow the Ranger's long tool down his throat.

Much more and Grady would have passed out but suddenly Pete said, "That's enough!" Hassan stepped away and Pete pulled his dick out and stood back, leaving Grady coughing helplessly. The boys had never seen anything like this – the handsome, macho Tarzan from their picture kneeling in humiliation, tears running down his face and spit flowing from his sagging mouth over the stubble of his chin.

"You think he's OK?" asked a fearful Brandon. "You think they're really hurting him. Maybe we should stop it."

"Nah," said Eddie cheerfully. "Hassan would never hurt him. He loves the guy. He's giving him exactly what he wants ... and what we want too, eh dudes?"

Pete pulled the naked man's head back by the hair and grinned down at him. "You've made it good and wet – and good and hard. Now we'll see how tough you are." He walked behind him while Hassan stepped forward, put his hands under Grady's armpits and pulled him to his feet in his original position, arms stretched along the branch. Hassan reached forward and clamped his hands round Grady's biceps, pinning them to the branch, their faces close.

Hassan's slanted dark eyes bored into his. "Now we're gonna break you, man, make you surrender to us and beg for more. Here comes the first installment." Pete pulled up the rag hanging over Grady's ass and said, "Shit, look at that fucking ass. Man I'm gonna enjoy this."

Grady gasped and flexed in anticipation as he felt the Ranger's rod push between his ass cheeks. For a moment nothing happened ... then Grady eyes opened wide and he screamed as the long pole drove into his ass, pulled back and drove in again. "No...!! I can't ... I can't take it, I ..." His scream was stifled by Hassan's mouth clamping over his. Their tongues pushed against each other and Grady tasted the sweaty essence of the handsome Marine.

Hassan pulled back and said, "You'll take it, man, because I tell you to. And you're gonna cum again because a Marine always gets what he wants." He took his hands off Grady's biceps and placed them on his chest, squeezing his nipples, gently at first but with growing force. "Look at me, stud. Feel my buddy's piston working your ass, feel my hands working your tits."

Grady gazed at the granite features of the Marine he had lusted for ever since he first set eyes on him. Those exotic dark eyes, the jet black hair falling over his high forehead. He would do anything for this man, but ... he knew he couldn't shoot another load so soon.

"Yes you can, boy," said Hassan, reading his thoughts. "You know what you really want, and you'll only get it after you cum. I can make you, any time I like." Suddenly Hassan dropped to his knees, his arms raised, fingers digging painfully into his chest. "You're gonna do it, man."

Behind him the Ranger reached round and, as before, folded the crook of his arm round Grady's throat, trapping him in a head lock while his cock hammered his ass. He growled into his ear, "I'm gonna pound that ass until you do what my buddy says. The Ranger's fucking your ass while the Marine sucks your dick. You gotta cum, man – you know you gotta bust your load."

The pain in his ass was intense as Grady looked down at the erotic sight of the macho Marine with his sensuous lips wrapped round his cock. He was desperate to get fucked by this swarthy muscle-god. With his ass impaled on the Ranger's rod pile-driving inside him, and his pecs being tortured he looked down at the soldier, felt his balls bursting and screamed, "Fuck, oh fuck ... yeaahhh!" Pete yelled in triumph and his cock exploded deep in Grady's ass, as the bound man blasted a load of jizz into the mouth of the soldier who gulped down every last drop.

The boys were again covered in semen after they too had cum yet again. But they didn't take their hands off their cocks as they watched the mood change. Hassan stood up, Pete came round to join him and said, "That's it for me, man, and we still haven't broken him. We'll leave him for another couple of hours and come back again." Hassan agreed and they turned their backs on him and started to walk away.

"NO!...." Hassan turned to see Grady pulling desperately at his restraints. "No ... I give up ... I've had enough ... can't take any more. I submit. Please ... fuck my ass. I'm begging you, soldier. Fuck me."

The Ranger grinned. "We did it, man. We broke him ... he's finished." He untied Grady's wrists and he fell to his knees. Hassan stood still, arms folded across his chest as the muscular alpha male, naked except for a tattered loincloth, fell on this stomach and dragged himself through the dirt to the soldier. He reached forward, grabbed his leg, pulled himself forward and licked the combat boot in a final act of humiliating surrender. "I need it, man. I need your cock in my ass."

Hassan looked down in disgust, hooked his boot under his stomach and flipped him over on his back. "You're not worth it, man. Look at you groveling in the dirt. Come on, stud. Fight for it." With a roar the shirtless soldier launched himself on top of Grady and in an instant they were rolling over the ground locked in combat. It was the final climactic scene of the movie where Tarzan and the soldier fight in the ultimate battle for supremacy.

In a muscular tangle of limbs they grappled with each other, muscle pitted against muscle, two magnificent bodies straining for dominance, clawing, kicking, howling in pain as they escaped from one submission hold after another. The boys were dazzled by the spectacle of the naked jungle man wrestling the bare-chested, musclebound soldier in a ferocious trial of strength.

But slowly it became clear that the man who had been tied up, whipped and fucked in helpless bondage had been so beaten down that his strength was ebbing, and with a triumphant roar the Marine finally had him pinned, kneeling between his legs and pressing his wrists on the ground. Their breath heaving, hearts beating wildly, their eyes met and they knew the time had come.

"Well," Hassan panted, "we don't know how your movie ends but we know how this one does. What d'ya say, big guy?"

The boys held their breath as they saw Tarzan, beaten and humiliated, surrender to the soldier. "You win, man. I'm beaten. I submit to you. Do anything you want to me. I'm your slave."

"My sex slave," the solider growled. "I'm gonna put a collar round your neck and keep you naked, caged like an animal. I'll drag you out and fuck your ass whenever I want to ... and it'll be often. I enjoy fucking big, beautiful alpha top-men like you."

Hassan pulled back, grabbed Grady's ankles and pushed his legs high in the air. He stared down at the perfect ass, naked now the fragment of loincloth had fallen away. "And every time I fuck you, stud, it'll feel like this." Hassan pushed his huge cock between the globes and slammed it deep in his ass.

Grady's screams echoed round the clearing as the massive rod speared his ass, pulled back, then drove in again. The beaten man clawed at the soldier's chest, digging his fingers into the rock hard pecs, but still Hassan ramrodded his ass. Grady was spinning in a vortex of pain and lust, gazing up at the gorgeous Marine who was finally reaming his ass.

After a ferocious fuck the rhythm gradually slowed and Hassan smiled at Grady. The movie, the fantasy, was over and now it was just two men who had lusted for each other since the day their eyes first met. Hassan leaned forward and pinned Grady's wrists again, their faces close.

He smiled, "This is what we both wanted all this time, buddy. It took a while and a strange, erotic journey to get here, but here we are, my cock in your gorgeous ass where it belongs. Man, you've given these boys the thrill of a lifetime, one they'll be re-living over and over for a long time to come."

Hassan made love to Grady as the boys watched in awe, Steve and Lloyd too, who had been watching from the shade of the trees. Grady moaned with the exquisite sensation of the Marine's big club filling his ass. "No problem coming this time, soldier," Grady said. "As a matter of fact I ..."

"I know. Me too. Let's do it, man – the first of many." Hassan fucked harder and faster, the two magnificent bodies shuddered and the men howled as the soldier's cock erupted in the naked stud's ass and Grady's cock blasted a ribbon of cum that rose high and splashed on Hassan's chest.

When their breathing and pounding hearts subsided Hassan pulled his cock out and said, "You've taken quite a beating, man. Just relax for a while and catch your breath. Close your eyes and lie still.

Grady did as he was told and felt his tired limbs relax as he closed his eyes and dozed. Hassan and Pete stood beside him and beckoned the others to come forward – Steve and Lloyd, Eddie and Ben, and Brandon in his wheelchair.

Hassan said, "Not often you see a sight as beautiful as that." They gazed down at the handsome muscle-god sprawled in the dirt, his arms spread out above his head, legs apart, his head fallen to one side, eyes closed. Hassan voiced the fantasy they were all imagining.

"It's the last scene of the movie. The final brutal fight has been won by the soldier who destroys Tarzan in a savage, humiliating thrashing. Now the muscular jungle man lies beaten and unconscious on the ground, his magnificent body splayed in the dust, striped with the marks of the lash, the soldier's semen oozing out of his ass and down his legs. The guys who have watched the fight draw close in a circle gazing down at him. And there's one final act before the fade out to complete Tarzan's humiliating defeat."

The men and boys already had their cocks out and stroked them as they stared down at the beautiful, broken man sprawled beaten and unconscious on the ground. It was not long before sperm started to rain down on him, splashing on his handsome face, his shoulders, neck, chest and abs and his muscled thighs – the final degradation.

Semen pours off his magnificent body gleaming in the sunlight as the movie fades to black.

A hand reached down to Grady and a voice said, "The name's Pete."

"So I gather," grinned Grady," letting himself be pulled to his feet. "Pleased to meet you, big guy. Man you sure know how to fuck – as I'm sure this boy of yours knows. Brandon's a lucky boy and you are a very lucky man. Grady pulled Pete into a tight bear-hug from which they both emerged smothered in jizz. Grady laughed, "Hell, what we all need is a swim."

After a raucous session in the pool they pulled on shorts and Steve said, "This sun is brutal. Let's all go inside for cocktails. They gathered in a small, shady room overlooking the driveway and the boys dominated the conversation with an excited rehashing of their fantasy movie they had seen and whacked off to so many times. Grady grinned. "That, by the way, is not how the story ends. Tarzan wins of course and leaves the soldiers sprawled in the dust." The boys seemed much happier with that ending.

Suddenly the gate buzzed and Steve clicked it open. Grady's eyes bulged as he saw two bikers roar down the driveway and pull up outside. They were both shirtless in leather pants and boots, their muscular black bodies gleaming with a sheen of sweat. One was older than the other, presumably master and boy. Grady inhaled sharply as he gazed at the heavily muscled man, wearing heavy leather wristbands and oozing the rugged masculinity of a macho top-man. His chiseled ebony features broke into a dazzling smile as Steve came out to greet him.

"Can't stop," the man said, tossing a black leather bag to Steve. "Thought we'd drop off these pieces of surplus hardware that I thought you and Lloyd could use you in that playroom dungeon of yours. Enjoy. Gotta go, man – dinner with Bob and Randy." They kick-started the bikes, revved the engines and roared back up the drive.

Grady looked wide-eyed at Lloyd and asked, "Who in the hell was that?"

"Oh, that was Zack and his boy Darius. You'll get to meet them soon enough. You'll enjoy their company." Then he smiled maliciously. "Or maybe not."

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 275

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!