A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 367 By Rob Williams

CHAPTER 367 – "RANDY MEETS MIGUEL - IT AIN'T PRETTY"

IN THIS CHAPTER:

The two alpha males – the rugged Latino Miguel and black muscle-stud Zack – are reunited in a grappling, clawing fuck where they top each other. Then Miguel is challenged by the dark gypsy Randy who growls, "I'm the boss around here and these fists can prove it. Come on, asshole, let's see what you got." Miguel snarls, "Oh give it up, Randy. I don't have to listen to your fucking bullshit. You don't scare me."

************ In the previous chapter *************

The new top-man Miguel had burst on the scene. Years ago he had had a fumbling, drunken one-night stand with Zack, now one of the tribe's senior men. Now, after all this time, Zack had sought Miguel out at the luxury hotel down the coast where he worked as executive sous-chef.

Their reunion had brought an immediate sexual spark and it was evident right away that from now on the two alpha males would be mates. Zack's boy Darius, unsure at first of this new development, soon embraced Miguel as heartily as Zack did. And when Miguel finally butt-fucked the big black stud, Darius filmed it for later showing to the excited members of the tribe.

A week later Miguel came up to L.A. to spend a week with Zack and Darius. But he arrived earlier than expected, when all the men were still at work. So, to bide the time, young Brandon took Miguel up to the Grady House to meet Danny, now the Grady House chef and house manager whom Miguel had once known as a junior waiter at the hotel. To Danny, Miguel had been his hero at the hotel and he nursed a secret longing for him, which he now confessed and ended up giving Miguel a blow job in Danny's bedroom.

As they relaxed afterwards Grady had stumbled sleepily into the room wearing only the black briefs he had slept in. Grady was the star of the new, big-budget Tarzan movie and had just worked an all-night shoot. He had woken up around noon and now surprised Miguel and Danny.

Grady flashed his famous smile. "And you, big guy, must be Zack's new man, Miguel ... God, what a stud ... you're gorgeous, Darius was right. And I see Danny's been showing you the ropes around here." He chuckled, "Not literally of course, although that'll probably come later."

Startled, Miguel stuffed his cock back in his shorts. Of course he knew who this was, this gorgeous man with the perfect body – broad shoulders, sculpted chest and abs, and a long slim sexy waist. He had seen him on underwear billboards wearing the same black briefs he had on now, and later in all the publicity and trailers for the new Tarzan movie. And now here he was, standing before him with a bulge in his briefs.

Grady sat on the bed and playfully scooped up some jizz from Miguel's chest with his finger and licked it. "Mm, mm, good." He laughed at his own silliness. "You gotta excuse me being raunchy, dude, but I'm feeling real horny. I worked all last night and when I got home this morning I was too exhausted to even make love to Mario ... I just kinda passed out. I always wake up horny and now, well, I'm kinda like a bull in heat."

Mario was in the office doing the household accounts with Brandon, and Grady said, "I daren't interrupt him just to tell him I wanna get fucked. And jacking off won't do it – I need a dick in my ass." He looked at Miguel with a roguish gleam in his eye. "Dude, that video we saw of you pounding the ass of that macho black construction boss was so damn hot. Mario and me fucked watching it and he told me to imagine it was me getting fucked by that muscle-stud."

Miguel smiled at him in surprise. The thought of this stunning man, the movie Tarzan, an icon of raw masculinity on the screen, getting butt fucked was amazing and a real turn-on. The result was inevitable and the swarthy Latino top-man rode the ass of the movie heart-throb like a cowboy rides a stallion. Danny had told him that Grady was big on fantasy too so, while he fucked him, Miguel made up a story that he knew would turn him on.

"Fuck you, asshole. I should tie you up and ream your ass ... that's what'll happen next time. Zack, Darius and me, we're all into leather, bondage, gang fucking. So next time I fuck your hot ass it'll be at Zack's place. Tarzan in his loincloth will be tied to a tree and butt-fucked in turn by three leathermen. And when we're done we'll leave you hanging there, helpless, Tarzan tied to a tree after getting gang fucked, his muscular body limp, streaming with sweat and cum.

Grady was flying. "Oh yeah, man, oh fuck yeah. That's so fucking hot. Let me feel those dicks in my ass." He gazed up at Miguel in a daze, lost in the savage fantasy. He saw it all, felt Miguel's jizz pouring inside him and yelled, "I give up ... I've gotta cum ... I'm gonna cum ..."

As Miguel emptied his cock inside the hot ass he gazed down in awe at the beautiful man shuddering beneath him, beaten into submission, his cock blasting jizz all over his muscular body in the homoerotic fantasy of Tarzan getting gang-fucked. Grady let his cock drain and his heartbeats subside, then stared up at Miguel and a smile spread over his face. "What an incredible fuck, dude! And what a fantasy! Man, can we do that for real sometime?"

"You'll have to ask Mario about that, big guy."

"And he would say si, assolutamente," came a cheerful voice from the door. They turned and saw a smiling Mario, and behind him Brandon and another cute guy in a wheelchair, Brian. "Feeling better now, amore?" Mario said. "Judging by all the noise I would say so." Mario was keenly aware of the stress Grady was under and always looked for ways to relieve it. "And we have Miguel to thank for that. You were fantastico, amico. So here you see our little family at the Grady House, but you have not yet met our faithful Brian.

Brian wheeled himself forward and shyly shook hands with Miguel, who leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Pleased to meet you Brian."

"And now you will stay to lunch," Mario smiled.

"Only if Danny allows me to help him in the kitchen."

"Really sir? It would be an honor to have one of the Ritz's executive chefs in my kitchen, sir."

"When do you have to be back with Zack?" Mario asked.

"After they come home from work. Then this evening I'm invited to dinner by Bob, Randy, and their boys. I haven't met Randy yet, though his name keeps coming up."

Furtive glances flashed between the others. "Ah, you have not yet met Randy," Mario said.

Detecting an uneasiness in Mario's voice he smiled, "No – is that something I should be concerned about?"

"No, no," Mario said carefully. "With new men Randy can sometimes be, er ... but you, I understand, are Zack's man now and he is more than a match for Randy. You'll be fine."

But the anxious glances that went round the room hinted that Mario might not be right on that.

************************ CHAPTER 367 **************************

Mario and Grady went back to the master bedroom where Grady grinned at his lover like a schoolboy who had just been caught misbehaving behind the bleachers. "Sorry about all that, buddy – me getting ploughed by the new stud in town. It's just that I was so horny and you had your head in the books ... You don't mind, do you? `Cos if you do I'll never go with another man again – except you."

"Amore," Mario smiled and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I love it when you're happy, and I can see that Miguel gave you just what you wanted ... quite the macho Latino stud – and I know how partial you are to that dark Latin look," he smiled. "And that verbal fantasy trip he took you on ... very sexy ... he is a fine – come si dice? – a fine dream weaver. I could never do that ... with my Italian accent it would just make you laugh and you'd lose your hard-on."

"Lose my erection with you? Never. I have a permanent boner when I'm with you, and you know it."

"And talking of which," Mario smiled, "you are not the only one who was deprived of sex last night. There I was lying in bed imagining Tarzan swinging through the trees in the studio instead of into my arms. I almost jerked off but saved it for when you got home. Then you stagger in, collapse on the bed and fall into a coma. I thought of fucking you while you slept but mamma mia always told me never to take advantage of anyone drunk or asleep.

"So here I am ... as you would say, horny as a toad, and my Tarzan has just been tied to a tree and gang-fucked by three brutal leathermen. And I, with a cock like a rock, am left with no one to hold and no ass to fuck."

Grady's eyes sparkled with mischief as he tickled Mario's chin and pouted, "Ah, poor bambino. Does he have no ass to fuck? And that mean old Tarzan. Just because he got gang-fucked by three leather-jocks, he don't wanna make love." He laughed, "Amico, you are, as you would say, molto stupido. Have you even known a time when I don't want to make love to you? Like I said, I always have a permanent erection with you ... look!" He pointed to his stiff rod.

"And you really want to get fucked again, mi amore?" Mario asked.

Grady frowned in mock anger. "Stupido ... you think that's all I do, take it up the ass? You forget – me Tarzan, Jungle Man. Get on the bed ... now!"

Mario loved Grady in this mood and instantly obeyed, instinctively spread-eagling his arms and legs. Grady quickly tied Mario's wrists to the corner bed posts using the ropes that always hung there – and then disappeared into their big dressing room. Mario took a deep breath and pulled at the ropes binding him. As he waited his excitement grew – and so did his cock.

Mario loved making love to Grady, which usually meant fucking him, the role Grady mostly preferred. In his professional life he played the dominant, macho King of the Jungle, a role that came naturally to him. But at home, in private, he loved to relax into a subservient role and submit his ass to get fucked, as Mario had just seen with the swarthy Hispanic top-man Miguel.

His public would have been startled if they knew about this role-reversal for their rugged heart-throb, which is why Grady valued the privacy and strict security the tribe gave him. The house was his fortress and the men and boys would never ever breathe a word about Grady in public.

All this went through Mario's mind as he waited and waited, helplessly tied to the bed. But mostly he now pictured Grady in the dominant role he played so well, lapsing into the fantasy of his movie. So Mario's heart leapt when the door opened and Grady strode into the room – wearing only his Tarzan loincloth.

Grady knew exactly what excited Mario. So now, a consummate actor, he adopted his movie persona and played to his lover's fantasies. At first he took no notice of the man tied to the bed and prowled round the room just as Tarzan prowled the jungle. Then his eyes settled on the naked man, bound helplessly, and he towered over him, grunting with satisfaction.

Mario's cock dripped pre-cum as he stared up at the rugged muscle-jock, his perfect physique gleaming in the sunlight streaming into the room, the rawhide loincloth hanging round his slim waist. His tousled dark hair fell over his brow and he stared down intently at Mario whose muscles flexed as he pulled at the ropes.

Not a word was said as Grady knelt by the bed, leaned forward and licked at Mario's chest like an animal sampling his prey. Liking the taste, he ran his tongue up the cleft between his pecs, then over his nipples, up his neck, his chin and then kissed his cheeks, forehead and eyes. Finally he licked Mario's lips, brushed them with his lips and pulled back as if in surprise. He bent down again and this time pressed his mouth against Mario's in a powerful, churning kiss.

Mario's imagination was running wild. He was tied down helpless when this sculpted, muscular Tarzan had come on the scene and found him. Silently, like a jungle animal, he had licked him, found him to his liking and had now progressed to a grinding kiss.

He pulled back and stared down at Mario, gave another satisfied grunt, then knelt on the bed between Mario's legs. He pulled his rigid cock out from under his loincloth and stroked it, all the while staring down at the bound man.

Mario tugged at the ropes wanting desperately to touch his own cock, even though he knew that touching it would make him cum instantly. The man looming over him spat on his cock and stroked it some more. He grabbed Mario's ankles and pushed his legs high in the air. Kneeling straight up He pressed his cock against his ass and said in the guttural voice he used in the movie, "And now I will make you my man."

With piercing eyes penetrating Mario's he pushed his cock slowly inside his ass, then deeper, deeper until his pubic hair pressed against his ass cheeks. He fixed Mario with a hypnotic stare, then pulled back and began slowly to massage the tender membrane of the bound man's ass with his long shaft.

"Aaah ... aaah," Mario sighed, his head falling from side to side, his body shuddering as this beautiful, erotic creature took possession of his ass. It was not only the sensuous feeling of the cock caressing his ass, it was the homoerotic Tarzan fantasy that made his whole body tremble. And whenever Mario opened his eyes wide, a look that Grady knew came just before orgasm, Grady paused to deny the orgasm, then began again, bringing Mario to the edge of his climax.

At last he let go of Mario's legs, leaned forward and braced his hands in the bed beside his head. He stared down at him, their faces close, and the guttural voice was back. "Now you are my man and I will not release you. I will take you to my home where I will keep you bound and you will become my love slave. Soon I will not need to tie you as you will crave Tarzan's cock in your ass. I will also take your rod inside me, and we shall live together and make love forever.

"Now I am going to pour my juice in your ass, while I watch you spray your own sperm over your beautiful body and hear you tell me you love me." Grady began to fuck harder and faster and Mario could take no more, driven wild by the piston in his ass and the fantasy of making love with this man forever. He stared up at the muscular body flexing over him and shouted, "I love you ... of course I love you ... fuck me ... oh fuck ... fuck ... aaagh ..."

They climaxed together, as they always did, Grady deep inside the handsome Italian writhing beneath him as Mario spurted semen all over his own flawless body.

A minute went by as they gazed at each other, and Grady's fierce eyes slowly softened to a sparkle of mischief and a gleaming smile. He pulled out of Mario's ass, sprang to his feet and stood astride him. Grady beat his chest with his fists, opened his mouth and threw his head back with a triumphant Tarzan yell.

Beneath him Mario started to laugh with uncontrolled joy. Grady untied his wrists, fell on top of him and they rolled over on the bed in each other's arms. As always in moments of high passion Mario lapsed into his native Italian. "Ti adoro, amico – un uomo magnifico."

"Hey, buddy," Grady said, "can we stay here and fool around a bit longer?"

"Well ..." Mario smiled, "I'm sure Danny and Miguel are having a good time together in the kitchen and it'll take a while for Brandon and Brian to set up lunch. So why not? Provided you drop the Tarzan act – sexy as that was – and just be Grady ... my Grady.

"You want me to lose the loincloth?"

Mario laughed, "Assolutamente no. That's my favorite part."

Mario was right. Danny and Miguel were having a great time in the kitchen while Brandon and Brian raced around setting up lunch in the garden under Grady's favorite shade tree. Danny was nervous at first showing the big-time chef how he had set up the Grady House kitchen, but Miguel's enthusiasm soon erased his fears.

"See, sir, I have three refrigerators but I don't just fill them randomly. I've found that if you divide stuff up carefully you can get most everything you want from one fridge depending on the occasion, so you're not searching all the time, opening first one then another. It's surprising how much time you save in a day."

Intrigued, Miguel inspected the contents of each fridge and smiled. "You know, Danny, you're on to something here. I see what you mean. Our fridges at the hotel are always flying open and closed ... I have a feeling we could adopt something similar. You haven't patented the method, have you?"

"No, sir," Danny smiled, blushing at the praise from the man he admired so much. They worked together preparing the lunch, with Miguel careful to show deference to Danny as the head of this kitchen. As they worked Danny asked, "So what happens when your week here with Zack is over and you go back down to your hotel, sir?"

That was, of course, a major question hanging in the air and caused a momentary uneasy silence. Then Miguel looked at Danny and said, "If I tell you something, Danny, you must keep it to yourself. The executive chef at the Ritz Carlton up here in L.A. is retiring and I hear they are looking around for a replacement. They prefer to hire from within the organization and it would be a great opportunity with a lot of responsibility."

"It would be perfect for you, sir. Are you thinking of applying?"

"Well, the clientele up here would be much more business oriented with a lot of heavy hitters, entertainment people and such, while the hotel at the beach caters mostly to tourists. I like it down there and I have friends there. I hesitated to apply `cos I didn't know anyone up here ..."

"But you do now, sir," Danny enthused. "You could come and live with Zack, and you'd have the whole tribe as friends."

"Hey, let's not get ahead of ourselves, eh, kiddo? Like I said, keep it under you chef's hat, OK?"

At that moment Brian wheeled in and said, "Danny, everything's set up outside under Grady's tree. We're ready to roll."

"Those guys must be starved by now," Miguel said.

Brian smile shyly. "Maybe not, sir. They're probably still making love. They usually are."

Miguel frowned. "How do you usually handle that Danny, not knowing when the guys will be ready to eat?"

"Oh I usually handle it," said Brian shyly. "That Tarzan yell you heard is our cue ... means they've cum. I wait a while for their glow time, and then they never mind if I interrupt."

As Brian wheeled himself out of the kitchen Danny shrugged. "It's true. Grady and Mario love Brian like crazy. They wouldn't mind if he interrupted them in mid-fuck."

Upstairs the men heard a soft knock on the bedroom door. Mario called out "Come in," and smiled when Brian appeared. "I know, I know, bambino, you have come to reprimand us for holding up lunch – and you would be right. Please tell the guys we'll be there in ten minutes."

And ten minutes later they appeared, still in the afterglow of sex, Grady in his usual shorts and loose tank top, Mario more elegant in beige lounge pants and a white linen shirt. Brian and Brandon waved them to the table they had set under the big shade tree, poured the wine, and Danny and Miguel appeared bearing the first course, both of them wearing chef's hats at a jaunty angle.

Lunch was a predictably merry affair with animated conversation about Miguel's life at the hotel, his praise for Danny's culinary skills and, of course, Grady's stories from the movie-set. Miguel said, "Well now I understand your need for all this security around here."

"Yeah, and the movie opens in three weeks and then things are gonna go crazy. The paparazzi can be brutal. I try to be friendly `cos they're only doing their job but then enough's enough. And this is my fortress – and my family," Grady said, smiling at Danny and ruffling Brian's hair.

Near the end of the meal Miguel said it was time he called Zack at the construction site to alert him that he was already in town. When Zack heard his voice he beamed and said, "Terrific, I'll come right home. You should have told me earlier and I'd have left work right away."

"Which is precisely why I didn't call," Miguel said. "The last thing I want to be is a disruption in your life or in the tribe's schedule."

"Man, you are already a huge disruption in my life, I'm happy to say – wouldn't have it any other way. But OK, if you insist, I'll be home at six and meet you at my place. Damn, I've got a massive boner in my jeans just hearing your voice." Miguel shut off the phone and his beaming smile told the others all they needed to know about the depth of his passion for the macho construction boss.

After lunch ended Miguel hung out with the Grady House family for the rest of the afternoon and asked how they had all come to be part of the tribe. He and Mario had a slight connection as Mario had worked as a waiter at the same hotel some years ago, before Miguel started there. Mario told how he had met Mark and Jamie there who persuaded him to come and live in L.A. as the tribe's landscape gardener.

But as the stories and reminiscences wound on it was clear that Miguel was increasingly anxious to get back down to Zack's house. Brandon picked up on that and said, "Sir, I have to go back down the hill to be home for Pete. Could I give you a lift to Zack's house?"

Miguel jumped at the offer and said warm farewells to Mario, Grady, Danny and Brian. Grady was especially effusive. "Man, if ever you want to revisit the jungle – you know, take another walk on the wild side – Tarzan will be waiting for you."

Miguel grinned. "Er, I think next time Tarzan will show up at Zack's house and confront the gang of three leathermen, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Grady grinned raffishly. "I can't wait."

When Brandon pulled up at Zack's house Miguel thanked him profusely for introducing him to the guys at the Grady House. "I got a lot more than I bargained for," he grinned. "Who knew I would get to fuck the sexy movie star I had drooled over so many times. You got any plans for the evening?"

Brandon beamed. "Pete's taking me out to dinner, sir. We do that a couple of times a week. I, er, I hope you have a good dinner with Bob and the guys ... and Randy."

Again Miguel detected Brandon's slight nervous hesitation as he mentioned Randy's name. He watched Brandon drive confidently away and realized that Darius had not exaggerated when he said, `Brandon's a sweetheart ... the whole tribe loves him'.

Miguel went into the garden and sat on a bench. He had been there earlier briefly when he had arrived in town and looked for Zack before Brandon met him. And now he again caught sight of the ropes hanging from a tree branch. He fantasized about being tied up there himself and worked over by Zack and his boy. Or maybe even Zack bound in submission to him.

Restless, with a stiff boner, he got up and paced round the garden. He looked at his reflection in a window and checked himself out. He was wearing a thin T-shirt now, thinking it was a sexier look that would turn Zack on. He smiled to himself. Normally he was a self-assured guy, always confident in the way he looked, but now he was anxious to please the man he craved. They had not seen each other in a week, which seemed like a month to Miguel, so great was his lust for Zack.

His foot touched something in the grass and he picked up the black leather collar he had seen earlier when he first came, obviously discarded there after Zack's sexual games. He fingered it, wondering if he could ever bring himself to wear it for a man.

Just then he heard the crunch of tires in gravel outside the house and a car door slammed. His heart started to pound as he heard the heavy tread of boots. And there, suddenly was Zack.

Coming straight from the construction site he was, as usual, shirtless in black jeans and boots. It was a pornographic sight – the black construction worker, his muscular body gleaming with sweat in the dappled sunlight coming through the trees, and Miguel almost creamed his shorts just staring at him.

Zack was equally mesmerized by the man he had jerked off thinking about during the week. Their eyes met and Zack said, "You found the collar, I see. It's gonna look good on you."

Not realizing he was still holding it Miguel threw it contemptuously to the ground with a guttural, "Fuck you, man." They stared at each other defiantly ... and suddenly they were in each other's arms, groping, clawing, kissing voraciously. The stink of sweat coming from the black construction worker drove Miguel wild and he dug his fingers into the hard sinews of his back.

Zack clawed at the back of Miguel's T-shirt and ripped it clear off his body. He tore his shorts open and they fell round his ankles, entangling his feet so when Zack pushed him away Miguel stumbled back and fell on the grass. Zack was on him in a second and they wrestled, roused by the feel of the other man's rippling muscles.

They were evenly matched but Zack got the advantage as he wrapped his arm round Miguel's head, burying his face in his wet armpit so he breathed in the pungent stink of man sweat. Dazed, he tugged at Zack's arm trying to loosen his grip, but didn't notice Zack reaching his other hand down to the collar lying in the grass. Suddenly Zack broke the hold and expertly buckled the collar round Miguel's neck. It was a sign of victory that determined which of them was top man and Miguel slumped back on the grass.

Zack leaned forward, pinned Manuel's arms to the ground and stared down at him. With his ruggedly handsome face, swarthy Hispanic features, square stubbled jaw, thick black hair, Miguel was the homoerotic icon of a dominant male ... except for the leather collar round his neck. "Shit damn, you son of a bitch," Zack growled, "that looks so fucking beautiful."

He leapt to his feet and paced round the near naked man who was resigned to his fate. Zack reached down and pulled Miguel's shorts off over his feet. "You are one hot stud, you fight hard, but now you're naked in the grass and you're the one with the collar round his neck. And that means you're gonna get your ass slammed, boy."

Zack pulled his thick rod out of his jeans, spat on it and stroked it. "Remember this, big guy?" He fell to his knees, pushed Miguel's legs back and rammed his cock straight into his ass. Miguel howled, not in pain but exhilaration. "Fuck you, man. Yeah, do it ... fuck that ass ... shit that feels so damn good."

The two rugged alpha males went at it, one black, one Hispanic, the black man pounding ass, the swarthy Hispanic on his back, a collar round his neck, reaching up and clawing at the construction worker's pecs. Sweat poured off Zack's body, splashing down on Miguel's face and chest, as their eyes pierced each other in a ferocious blend of strength, lust and passion.

Zack knew he couldn't last long in the furnace of this beautiful man's ass, and he reared back up on his knees, reached forward, grabbed the collar and pulled Miguel's head up off the ground. His head hung helplessly from the collar round his neck as Zack slapped his face from side to side, his dark hair flying.

Miguel shouted, "Asshole ... Fuck you man. I can take anything you dish out, you mother fucker. And I can finish you off ... I can make you cum. Look at me ... look at me." His voiced changed, became softer, gentler. "Cum inside me, Zack. Let me feel your juice in my ass."

Zack stared down at the beautiful face hanging by the collar round his neck ... and he was drowning in his eyes. "I am so fucking in love with you, man. Here it comes, buddy. Here it comes ..." His body jolted and he moaned in ecstasy as his cock erupted in Miguel's ass.

He lowered Miguel's head gently on the ground, leaned forward and kissed the cheeks he had slapped, then the eyes and finally the lips. "You are such a hot fucking man ... I love the hell out you." He unbuckled the collar, slowly pulled out his cock, and lay down beside him. Miguel stroked Zack's sweat-soaked face and body, then rolled him gently over on his stomach, pulled down his black jeans and stroked the muscled globes of his ass. "Such a beautiful ass he said tenderly. Flawless."

Then suddenly everything changed.

Miguel reached out for the collar Zack had dropped beside them and quickly buckled it round Zack's neck, ignoring his protests. Kneeling behind him he yanked on the collar and pulled Zack up on his hands and knees, his jeans still round his knees. They were facing the floor-length window of the house and Miguel pulled back on the collar, forcing Zack to look at their reflections in the glass.

"Asshole," Miguel growled. "Who's wearing the collar now, eh? You don't think I'm the kind of guy who takes an ass pounding without retaliation, do you? I'm like you, stud – I give as good as I get. So brace yourself for this, motherfucker." Still pulling on the collar Miguel pressed his dry cock between Zack's ass cheeks ... and drove it in like a spear.

"Fuuuck!" Zack screamed. The pain in his ass and the sight of this swarthy Latino reflected in the window sent Zack in an arc of ecstasy he had never experience before. This was his man, as tough and resilient as himself, his match in every way – and he was reaming his ass in a savage dry fuck.

Miguel held the collar in one hand and slapped Zack's ass cheeks with the other, retaliating for the face-slapping he had endured from Zack. Zack went wild. "That all you got, stud? Come on, man ... I can take it. I'm like you, I can take whatever the fuck you dish out."

So Miguel piled it on, yanking Zack by the neck, slapping his ass like he was riding a stallion, whipping his ass to spur him on. But Miguel couldn't sustain it for long. He had been driven to the edge of climax when Zack had fucked him but had held back his own orgasm for this moment. And now the sight of the shirtless black construction boss getting butt-fucked doggy style pushed him over the edge.

"Here it comes, big guy. You want your man's sperm in your ass? You got it, stud. Yeeeah!"

With one last mighty thrust he ramrodded his ass and blasted his load deep inside him. Zack twisted his head round and gazed at Miguel's chiseled features contorted in ecstasy as his cock drained in his ass. "Dammit, man, you are one hot fuck. I love you, Zack." He pulled slowly out of his ass and they lay together on their backs in the grass, gazing up at the trees rustling in the breeze, louder now, it seemed to them, with all their senses heightened.

"Oh shit," came Darius's voice, "looks like I missed all the action. Guess I'll come back later."

"The hell you will," Zack barked, and Miguel added, "Get your hot ass and that ten-inch dick over here, boy."

Orders from both men, his men ... Darius loved it and he threw himself down between them. Zack unbuckled the collar from his own neck and held it up to Miguel. "What d'ya think, buddy?"

"Hmm," Miguel grinned, "looks like a perfect fit to me. Let's do it." Together they buckled the collar round Darius's neck and Zack gazed into his eyes. "Well, we've been here before, kid, but this time you've got two masters. Two men and a boy. Think you can handle it?"

Darius's eyes sparkled. "Try me, sir."

It was some time later that all three men showered together and got ready for the dinner party across the street. They all dressed simply in jeans and T-shirts and Zack insisted that they go into the house together, as a unit ... he wanted to show off his new little family.

It was to be a casual affair and when they went through the gate they saw that the other guys had already gathered over drinks at the table by the pool. Bob was the only one of the men who knew Miguel well, having met him with the twins at his beach-front hotel and got to know him intimately, having sex and spending the night together.

So it was with a warm welcoming smile that he now walked forward and greeted him with a long, tight hug. "Great to see you again, Miguel. Rumor has it you've been having quite a time since you got here – sex with Danny then fucking our own Tarzan, not to mention ploughing this big lug here," grinning at Zack. "Oh yeah, you'll learn that our grapevine is super-efficient ... ten minutes and everything is known to everyone. Hey, come and meet the guys."

He took him over to Randy whose grim-faced expression was far less welcoming. Tall and muscular the dark, brooding gypsy with his stubbled jaw and long black hair stood with his arms folded across his chest, looking the new man up and down, getting the measure of him.

Randy, of course, had heard all about this new guy, this hotel cook' as he called him, his derisive version of executive chef'. All of Randy's instincts had kicked in on hearing the stories of him – suspicious, resentful, threatened, defensive – and as always, smoldering anger.

Chief among his resentments was that Bob had met him and liked him. Bob and the twins had spoken of him in glowing terms when they got home from the hotel – what a hot and handsome musclehunk he was, a match for any man in the twins' phrase. Randy had immediately asked Bob, "did he fuck you?" Even though Bob laughed it off with a firm `no', his obvious affection and admiration for the handsome Latino bore deep into Randy's insecurities about Bob.

Then there was Randy's buddy Zack. Randy had always been the man closest to Zack (except for his boy Darius). They were like brothers, and only a few weeks ago, up at the lake fishing, they had made passionate love to each other. So the thought of another man muscling in on his territory and `falling in love' with Zack incensed Randy.

His anger had reached a pitch when he watched the video of Miguel in a classic domination scene where he tied Zack up and ploughed his ass, trash talking him, making him beg for release. In Randy's mind, only he had the right to do stuff like that to his big buddy.

And now there were these stories coming down from the Grady House of Miguel roaring through it like the new top-man in town. All of this combined to represent, in Randy's mind, a threat to his own position as undisputed boss of the tribe. Hell, he was the one to give approval for any new man in the tribe. After the video Randy had growled his intent to initiate this new guy but Zack had threatened, "No you're not, Randy, not this time ... not this one."

All of this meant that this was not fertile soil in which to plant a new tree, to introduce this new man to Randy. As Randy looked over the darkly handsome Latino he tried to find a flaw, but couldn't. Damn, he was hotter than even Darius had described. In any other circumstances he would have been exactly the kind of tough alpha male Randy gravitated to – but not this one.

"Randy, it's great to meet you at last," Miguel smiled warmly, holding out his hand. "I've heard so much about you from Zack and ... and from pretty much everyone."

"Yeah, well they all know me," Randy grunted unsmilingly. He took Miguel's hand and clenched it ferociously in his, expecting him to flinch. But instead Miguel met the challenge with a smile and `gave as good as he got', in the phrase he had so recently used with Zack.

Bob, of course, was acutely and anxiously aware of all these undercurrents and hastened to intervene. "Miguel, come and meet Mark, our resident cop." Turning to the smiling, classically handsome blond, Miguel shook his hand and laughed, "Ah, the Greek God, according to Darius, and he's right. Straight from Mount Olympus, I'd say."

"Well you're no slouch in that department, Miguel," Mark smiled. ">From the reports I hear you've earned your place on top of the mountain. Zack's a lucky guy." Then proudly, "Let me introduce my man, ex-boy and lover, Jamie. The tanned blond surfer came forward and shook hands. "Happy to meet you, Miguel. I heard all about your jungle adventure at the Grady House from young Brandon. Sounded wild."

Miguel did another double take as he shook the hand of this splendid young man. Mark said, "The three of us should get together sometime, Miguel. That's if Zack will let you off the leash for a while. Though come to think of it it's anyone's guess which of you would be on the leash."

Amid the burst of laughter Pablo came forward and Miguel smiled at the sight of the handsome, muscular Mestizo with the black hair and almond-shaped eyes. "Wow, it's obvious who you are, Pablo. I can see now why Darius is so crazy about you." They hugged spontaneously and Miguel said, "That look is so great ... you must have Hispanic blood in you, like me."

"Spanish and Indian," I think, sir," Pablo grinned, liking this man immediately. "Roots somewhere in Central America, I think."

"Me too. I was born and raised in Honduras."

"You don't say! Man, I hear that place can get rough, with all the drugs and gangs and stuff."

"No kidding. I lived in a rough part of town and I sure I learned my fighting skills on the streets there. You have to be a real tough fighter to survive down there."

"Just like my dad Randy," Pablo said eagerly. "He was raised in a rough part of West Texas and learned to be a street fighter just like you. You have something in common. He taught me to fight too. You and me should go a few rounds in the gym, sir."

"I could go for that, Pablo. It's a date."

Pablo's liking for Miguel was obvious but he had said all the wrong things as far as Randy was concerned – the same Hispanic blood ... a tough street fighter ... something in common with my dad ... go a few rounds in the gym'. Hell, was this fucking guy gonna take his boy too, as well as work his way into Bob's affections, and get together' with Mark and Jamie? Not to mention seducing Zack into thinking he was in love.

It was obvious that Miguel had been an instant hit with the group – as if he was already a member of the tribe, which in everyone else's mind he already was. And then, to add insult to Randy's perceived injury, the twins, Kyle and Kevin, appeared from the kitchen, ran toward Miguel and hugged him affectionately, remembering their sexual adventures with him at the hotel. "Hey, guys, after I gave you that tour of the hotel kitchens I'm eager to see yours. Do you need help in there now?"

Kevin smiled, "Not right now, sir – you are a guest. But after dinner we'd love to show you."

The twins too, Randy seethed. He's seduced them too. Go ahead asshole, break up my whole family, why don't you? He interrupted their reunion. "Hey, guys, is dinner nearly ready? I'm fucking starved."

"Right away, sir," said Kyle as they broke away from Miguel and ran back to the kitchen.

"Er, right, why don't we all take our places at the table?" Bob said, trying to control his voice but exchanging nervous glances with Mark.

The dinner at the table out by the pool proceeded much as the introductions had done, with the charming, handsome Latino the center of attention, making easy conversation with them all ... all except Randy who mostly kept a grim silence. When he spoke it was with a barbed tongue, throwing out demeaning phrases like hotel cook,' immigrant', rookie', and so-called fighter'.

For the most part Miguel let the put-downs bounce off him. As an immigrant, a Hispanic with a heavy accent at first, he had heard it all before and had developed a thick skin over the years. He was a patient man – unless roused to defend himself, when the street fighter took over. And after so many hints from guys like Mario and Brandon, Miguel had expected some initial degree of resentment from Randy, so he took it all in stride.

But under the enthusiastic din of voices and laughter, especially from the always curious boys and their questions, Bob was becoming increasingly uneasy. He knew Randy's moods intimately after all these years and could sense when things were coming to a boil.

He partly blamed himself. This dinner was a mistake. It would have been better to let Miguel and Randy get acquainted gradually. Miguel's obvious instant popularity with the senior men and their boys in this public setting was almost designed to rile Randy. The worst thing was for Randy to lose face and be upstaged by another alpha male – like two rival stallions staking out their territory. At least, Bob thought, that's how Randy would see it.

Bob also regretted being so warm to Miguel in front of Randy. That played right into Randy's irrational insecurity about losing Bob to another man, something Bob had so often told him had zero possibility of ever happening, but always the paranoia persisted. Bob felt he should have been cooler to Miguel ... a thought he instantly rejected. Why the hell should I fake coolness to a man I like just because Randy is throwing a tantrum and behaving like a petulant child?

So he refused to withdraw into silence and, in spite of Randy's glowering silence, the party proceeded merrily along, with much love, lust and laughter, and Zack smilingly benignly over the event, proud that his man Miguel was being accepted so easily into the hearts of his friends. It looked as if they might get through the meal with no open disruption ... until near the end.

Miguel stood up and grinned, "Guys, my bladder needs relief from all the liquid I've poured into it. I gotta go take a leak. Don't worry, I'll find my way." He went into the house, with Bob on high alert as he looked at Mark, then at Randy. His worst fears were realized when Randy said. "Me too. I gotta piss." He stood up and strode into the house.

Bob rose as if to follow but Mark pulled him down beside him. "Best let things take their course, buddy. These storm clouds have gotta blow away one way or another. I have a feeling Miguel can take care of himself so let's hope for the best. That turned out to be famous last words.

Miguel was peeing at the urinal when Randy came in, pulled out his huge beer-can cock and peed ostentatiously in the toilet bowl. "So," he said, "sounds like up to now you've always been the hot man on campus."

Miguel chuckled. "I wouldn't put it like that, Randy. I never thought about it. I just try to get along, is all."

"Is that right?" Randy said, shaking his cock and shoving it back in his jeans. "Well maybe I should make a few things clear to you, stud. See this here is my patch, my territory. These are my guys, I'm the boss around here and I don't let anyone get in my way, not even the man they're all calling `the new top-man in town', the hotel cook who calls himself a street fighter and claims to be Zack's new man."

"Look, Randy," Miguel said calmly, "I have no fight with you. I want us to be friends, so let's get together later and clear the air then, eh?"

"You brushing me off, man? You brushing me off? Fat chance. Listen up pal, Zack and me go way back, we're like brothers. We work together, fuck together and look out for each other. I've known him a whole lot longer than you, man ..."

"Actually Randy, that's not true. I met Zack long before he met you. I fell in love with him then, and when we met again recently we made love and realized we're still in love. And nothing's gonna change that, not you nor anyone else. I love Zack and Darius and whoever I damn well want to ..."

Randy cut him off. "Ah, like Bob I suppose. I wondered when we'd get to that." He jabbed Miguel in the chest. "Now get this straight, asshole. Bob is mine, he's my man, I own his ass. And he goes only with guys I say he can. And that does not include you. So if you lay a finger on that man or even so much as look at his ass, by God I'll waste you and make you wish ..."

"Oh, give it up, Randy. Your insecurities and paranoia don't interest me at all. That's between you and Bob. I'm not looking for trouble but you've been needling me all through dinner. But I don't have to stand here and listen to any more of your bullshit. I'm getting back out there to be with my new friends, and you can do whatever the fuck you want."

Miguel turned on his heel and strode out of the bathroom, but Randy followed him, his anger at a fever pitch. "Fuck you, asshole. Nobody walks out on me, least of all a stuck-up rookie like you. I haven't finished with you, you son-of-a bitch."

Outside, alarm spread over the faces at the dinner table as the sound of raised voices came from the house. Miguel emerged into the garden, ignoring Randy who followed close behind. But Randy grabbed his shoulder and spun him round to face him. "I said I haven't finished with you, asshole," Randy shouted, eyes blazing with anger.

"Well too bad, `cos I've finished with you. Listen Randy, I don't wanna pick a fight with you. I'd rather cool it and talk later. But don't push it, big guy. I'm a patient man until a guy pushes me over the limit. Then my anger takes over, just like it does with you. So don't make a fool of yourself in front of these guys."

That did it. "Fuck you!" Randy yelled. "Like I said, I'm the boss here and I've always proved it with my fists. So let's see what you got, stud. You say you're a street-fighter. Prove it."

Miguel raised his arms wide to the sides in an open-handed gesture of conciliation but Randy ignored him. Running entirely on anger and adrenaline Randy took pops at Miguel's chin, short jabs that made him stagger backwards with each punch. "I said fight, dammit, you goddam pussy, or I'll fucking make you – like this! He swung back and brought the back of his fist slamming across Miguel's face, making him arch backward and crash to the ground.

Zack, incensed, rose to protect Miguel but once again Mark, with his cop's training in de-escalation, pulled him back down. "No Zack, that'll make it worse – it'll become a free-for-all. Wait. I have a feeling Miguel can take care of himself. He's proving himself to the tribe."

Mark was right. Lying on the ground, his T-shirt ripped, Miguel shook his head, rubbed his jaw and glared up at the fearsome dark gypsy who yanked off his own shirt and stood stripped to the waist, muscles flexed, arms outstretched, fingers beckoning him. "Come on, man. Let's see what you got. Let me show these guys who's boss around here."

Miguel staggered to his feet and it looked as if he were about to run right into Randy's clenched fists. His anger was now at the same pitch as Randy's – like two raging bulls. Miguel let out a sudden roar that shocked everyone and charged forward. He was headed straight for Randy's flailing fists but at the last moment he ducked below them and rammed his head brutally into Randy's stomach with such force that Randy howled in pain and slammed to the ground.

Now Miguel proved that his street-fighter claim was no idle boast. He had the advantage and seized it. He leapt forward and knelt astride Randy who was too dazed and weakened to retaliate. Miguel glared down at him and growled, "You picked the wrong man to fuck with, asshole. I always give as good as I get. It's payback time."

Just as Randy had punched his face repeatedly, Miguel now slammed his hand across Randy's face, his palm on one cheek, the back of his hand across the other, again and again and again. Randy's instinct for self-preservation kicked in but he was still winded and too weak to get out from under the man sitting on his stomach pinning him to the ground. He was starting to lose consciousness when the pummeling stopped.

The rugged gypsy was dazed and helpless beyond resistance, his dark chiseled features twisted in pain, as Miguel sprang to his feet, body tense with anger. "Fuck you, man, fuck you," he shouted as he bent down, pulled off Randy's boots, ripped open his jeans and pulled them down and off. He unzipped his own jeans and pulled out his stiff cock. The two men were similar not only in their anger and fighting skills but in their sexual arousal from fighting.

Randy stared up at the blurry image of the swarthy Hispanic, his ripped T-shirt hanging over his heaving chest, stroking his long dick, hard as a rock. Randy tried to move but he was still so weakened by his rival's brutal onslaught that his limbs would not respond. He was at Miguel's mercy ... and once again the Latino took full advantage.

He knelt between Randy's legs and pushed them up high. "I never wanted this, man. But you know better than anyone that when men like us are challenged we have to respond. So here's my response, big guy." He drove his dry rod straight into Randy's ass and buried it deep, the first move in a savage onslaught on the ass of the beaten construction boss.

Against all their instincts the onlookers remained still, their minds a whirl of conflicting emotions as they watched the extraordinary spectacle of the tribe's undisputed boss, the fighter who never lost, now howling in pain, being beaten by the dominant new guy, pinned down and fucked in the ass. Zack was torn between his longtime friendship with Randy, like a brother to him, and his pride and sexual arousal at seeing his new man display his strength and power.

Bob was appalled by the whole spectacle, knowing how deep the wounds would go in the tribe, and he gripped the hands of his twins tight. Mark was the cool and impartial observer, letting the event take its course, as he had said, but ready to act like a cop if it got totally out of control.

Pablo and Darius, such intimate lovers, were now on opposite sides – Pablo, agonized by the sight of his hero being demolished and degraded; Darius sharing his concern but proud and roused by the dazzling sight of his new buddy Miguel displaying his dominance for the first time.

Despite his anger, Miguel was, on some level, aware of the total disruption this fight would create and he wanted to bring it to a swift conclusion. Randy knew he had to accept defeat and the humiliation that went along with it, but he always had respect for a man tough enough and dominant enough to best him in a fight. In any other circumstances he would have welcomed sex with a man who was his macho equal, no matter who fucked whom in the end.

And so, as Miguel pinned Randy to the ground and pounded his ass their eyes met ... and each of them felt the same sensation of grudging respect, something akin to brotherhood, the masculine brotherhood of powerful men, natural leaders, equally matched in determination, their testosterone compelling them to fight ... and even to fuck.

But despite all that they were still rivals and Miguel was about to take the ultimate revenge. "I didn't want this, Randy," he growled, "but you pushed me too far. So I gotta do this, the final act of humiliation for a broken man. I'm gonna fill your ass with my jizz ... and I'm gonna make you shoot all over your naked fucking body."

Miguel pounded harder and stroked Randy's already hard cock. They gazed at each other and, at what would otherwise have been a triumphant climax for two such men having sex, Randy howled, "Fuck you, man," as his cock blasted semen all over his beaten body and the winner owned his ass by filling it with his sperm.

It was over ... really over. Miguel pulled his cock out, stuffed it back in his jeans and got to his feet. He stared down at his fallen rival and snarled, "Fuck you, man. You ruined everything."

Then to the stunned onlookers, "Guys, I'm sorry about this – sorry I ever came into your lives. It was all a mistake, I see that now. I came from a quiet life and walked into all this fucking craziness. You're a great bunch of guys but it's impossible for me to stay here. I've poisoned the well, brought only trouble to your tribe and I know I can never be accepted now. So I'm outa here, back to the sanity of the world where I belong." He turned and strode out through the gate.

After a stunned silence there was tumult. Pablo ran to Randy and knelt over him. Darius went to join him but Pablo looked up at his with tears in his eyes. "Get away. Don't touch him. This is all your fault for bringing that asshole here."

Mark intervened to calm things down and Zack stood up totally bewildered. He stared down at Randy, his fallen brother, then looked at the gate through which the man he loved had just left. In confusion he sought answers in Bob's eyes. Bob stood up and put his hands on Zack's shoulders. "Zack, that man who just walked through the gate. Do you love him?"

"Yes, I love him."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Never been surer of anything in my life."

"Then go to him, buddy. Don't let him leave. Whatever it takes, make him stay. I'll sort this mess out. Go to him, now!"

Zack ran out through the gate, across the street and into his house where he found Miguel stuffing his clothes into his bag. "Don't, Zack," he said without looking at him. "Don't say anything. I gotta get out of here, this was all wrong. I'm sorry, man. It's over."

He walked out of the house but Zack, in desperation, followed him out to the garden and grabbed him. "No, Miguel – no you can't leave. I love you man ... we love each other. Please, man, don't leave. Please."

But Miguel broke away and headed for the gate. "No!" Zack howled. "No, dammit. I won't let you." He grabbed Miguel and pushed him back against a tree.

"Don't do this, Zack, please. I gotta go. Just let me leave."

In a panic Zack looked around desperately and saw a rope hanging over a branch above his head. He snatched at it and pressed his powerful body against Miguel's, trapping him by squeezing him against the tree. As Miguel struggled in vain Zack shoved his arms back round the tree, wound the rope round his wrists and pulled them tight. Miguel tugged at them but Zack went quickly behind the tree and used another rope to make sure his wrists were securely tied.

"Fuck you, Zack," Miguel shouted. "You think you can keep me here against my will by tying me to a fucking tree?"

"If necessary," Zack said. "I'll keep you tied up forever." He spotted the collar on the grass they had used earlier, picked it up and buckled it round Miguel's neck. "You know what that means, stud. It means you belong to me ... you're mine." His voice softened. "Man, all those years ago I let you walk out of my life. I'm damned if that's gonna happen again."

He clamped his hands on Miguel's face and kissed him ferociously. "I love you, man. I need you. Forget all that other bullshit. We can have a great life, we can. All those things we talked about, the things we were gonna do together. Here, here, let me show you. I'll be right back."

He disappeared into the house, leaving Miguel alone, his head spinning. He struggled mightily against the ropes but realized he was trapped. "Fuck," he groaned, "this is a fucking nightmare." His mind raced over the events of the last hour and it did all seem like a nightmare from which he wanted to wake up.

He breathed deeply to calm himself, then rested his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. He stayed like that for long minutes, trying to create a dream of Zack and all the things they had done, forcing himself to believe that when he opened his eyes it would all disappear as dreams do.

But when at last he did open his eyes the dream became a fantasy. There was Zack standing across the garden from him, legs apart ... and in full leather – the boots, leather pants, heavy belt, a studded harness crossed over his chest and a black leather vest hanging open over it. And he was holding a whip, tapping it in the palm of his hand.

Zack was staring at him in awe, at the tall, handsome dark-haired Latino in jeans with the shreds of his ripped T-shirt hanging over his muscular chest. And he was tied against a tree, with a collar round his neck – a prisoner. Zack had captured him, stopped him from getting away and now had him helpless, at his mercy.

Dazed, Miguel dropped his head forward in silent acceptance of his situation. Zack walked forward, pushed the handle of the whip under his chin and raised his head, forcing him to look into his gray eyes. "I'm not gonna let you go, man. Not gonna happen. You're mine."

He wound the whip round the back Miguel's neck and pulled it slowly so the bound man felt it sliding round his neck and falling on his chest. "And something else. When I've finished with you you're gonna be begging me to let you stay." He reached down and felt the shape of Miguel's rock-hard cock stretching down inside his jeans. "Good, I knew it – that's a start."

Just then they heard the ringing of the house phone. "Saved by the bell, mother fucker," Zack grinned. "But only for a while." He draped the whip round Miguel's neck again and let it hang down over his chest. Then Zack went inside leaving Miguel alone, tied helpless, his shirt in shreds, wearing a leather collar, with a whip round his neck.

He thought of the black leather-master and groaned out loud. "Damn, I want him so bad."

When Zack picked up the phone it was Bob. "Did you stop him, Zack? Is he there?'

"Yeah, he's here."

"How did you manage that?"

"Tied him to a tree," Zack grinned.

"Well," Bob smiled, "that's one way to do it I guess. I leave all that to you, Zack. I'm trying to do what I can over here, mend some fences." He chuckled. "After so many years with Randy I'm a champion fence mender. Pablo's with him right now and he'll be fine. You know Randy, tough as old boots.

"Listen, Zack, I've called Doctor Steve. Our tribe shrink always comes up with some way to solve our problems, no matter how wild his methods. And God knows he's had plenty of practice dealing with his wayward brother Randy. He's gonna set something up in the next few days before Miguel's vacation here is over. I'll deal with Randy, and Mark's being a rock as always. So all you have to do right now is take care of your man. And keep him there, Zack, whatever it takes."

"Oh I fully intend to," Zack grinned. "I'm gonna take care of him right now." He thanked Bob, shut off the phone, and went back out to the garden.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 368

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 invite 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. Click on the `Our Story' tab to read the current chapter, or click on the green button to browse all the chapter synopses. Enjoy

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