A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 388 By Rob Williams

CHAPTER 388 – "TWO ALPHA MALES CRAVING ROUGH SEX"

IN THIS CHAPTER:

The hunky mechanic Pablo is serviced by Tyler and Eddie. "That double blow-job, guys – un-fucking-believable." Then the gypsy construction boss Randy challenges Miguel, the rugged Hispanic leatherman. They both share the same craving for rough sex, the same homoerotic fantasy of one macho top man bound naked at the mercy of the other, begging, "Give it to me, man, I can take it. I need it so bad." _____________________________________________________________________

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

Anticipation was building for the big gathering of the tribe at the Grady House, the hilltop estate of Grady, the heartthrob movie star in the new Tarzan movie, and his Italian lover Mario.

It had got off to a good vibe the day before when their young houseboy Brian and his long-time buddy Brandon had finally declared they were more than buddies – they were in love.

This had come after long talks with Mario and Grady, ending with Grady saying to Brandon, "Don't waste time, kid. Real love don't come along too often in life, but when it does you have to grab it and hold on tight. All the rest is bullshit. If you remember just one thing remember that – `All the rest is bullshit'."

And so the two boys had made love – really made love – for the first time, in Brian's room at the Grady house. Afterwards they lay in each other's arms and, having been cowed into nervous silence all evening, they now talked non-stop, especially about the gathering of the tribe scheduled for the next day at the Grady House.

Mario had earlier announced, "Tomorrow's a big day, guys. Bob is coming for a business meeting with Grady and me, and Randy and Mark will be here for one of their monthly security checks. Then all the other guys will join us for the afternoon. The twins will be helping Danny in the kitchen and Tommy is coming to organize the party, but I would like all you boys to pitch in and help as well."

Now as the boys lay together Brian said, "It'll be so much fun working the party tomorrow – as lovers I mean. I can't wait to tell everyone."

Brandon kissed him. "I don't wanna rain on your parade, kid, but I think they already know. We're the only two who didn't – at least we didn't admit it, even to ourselves. Just goes to prove what I always say – guys in wheelchairs can do everything the other guys can, even fall in love. And we'll have fun tomorrow, dude. It'll be a big crowd – almost everyone. Can't wait to see those three hot leathermen again, Zack, Darius and Miguel."

"Yeah," Brian said, "and we haven't seen much of that hunky muscle-stud Miguel lately – neither has Randy. With their history of rough sex there's no knowing what those two top-men will do to each other when they meet again."

************************* CHAPTER 388 ************************

While the two new lovers, Brandon and Brian, were curled up sleeping peacefully in each other's arms, it was a whole different (and noisier) scene in one of the Grady House guestrooms that was shared tonight by Pablo, Tyler and Eddie.

Pablo, the adopted son of boss Randy, had come up after work to join his boy Tyler for dinner and was riveted by young Tyler's account of how he had fucked Tarzan' – the handsome fun-loving screen idol Grady who played Tarzan in the recently-released blockbuster movie. His many fans would have been shocked to know that the macho heartthrobs favorite thing was to take a dick up his ass.

Grady had invited Pablo and Tyler to spend the night there as the wine at dinner flowed freely. When dinner was over Pablo slurred, "A good thing too, because I am in no condition to drive – especially as I have this precious cargo with me," putting his arm round Tyler.

Then he turned to Tyler's best friend Eddie. "And Eddie, your hunky soldier Hassan won't be here till tomorrow and we can't have you sleeping alone. So why don't you bunk in with Tyler and me?" Tyler and Eddie eagerly agreed and Eddie led them up to their room.

The combination of the macho, horny young mechanic, his devoted boy Tyler, and Tyler's mischievous pal Eddie, was bound to involve some action before bed despite all the wine they had drunk – or because of it.

Pablo, whose naturally sexual nature was roused even more by too much wine, now flung himself on the bed where he lay on his back and folded his hands behind his head. Tyler and Eddie looked down at the handsome mechanic in black jeans and black T-shirt, with his square-cut Mestizo features. His muscular torso bulged under his T-shirt and, with his elbows stretched out to the sides, the short sleeves pulled back and bared his biceps.

He grinned up at the boys, knowing the cock-stiffening effect he was having on them. "So, you two guys have become best buddies, I hear, share all your secrets and sexual know-how. I guess you think you're a pretty good team, uh?

"Yes sir," Tyler said modestly.

Eddie was far more effusive. "I'll say, sir. I taught Tyler a lot at first – you know, how to suck dick and stuff – but he's a quick learner and now we compare notes after every time we fuck. Take, for example ..." But Tyler elbowed him in the ribs and gave him a wide-eyed look, a sign for him to zip it, which he did.

"Yeah, yeah, Eddie," Pablo said, "you talk plenty, but one thing I often wonder about you, kiddo, is maybe you're all talk and no action. You wanna prove me wrong with your teammate there?"

It was an unmistakable challenge and Eddie responded with a simple "Duh!" and a meaningful glance at Tyler. Working in tandem they knelt on either side of the bed and ran their hands over Pablo's black T-shirt, feeling the muscular pecs flex underneath. At a sign from Eddie they both bent their head and licked the T-shirt, right up to the damp patches under his arms. Keeping his hands behind his head, arms bent, Pablo sighed, "That's it, guys, suck the big guy's sweaty pits."

They buried their faces in the mechanic's armpits and breathed in the musky taste of sweat. Then they licked his neck before going lower and teasing his nipples with their tongues through his T-shirt. Pablo shifted his hands, grabbed the backs of their heads, one in each hand, and pressed them against his chest, "Yeah, eat those fucking tits, boys, bite them ... let me feel it."

Baring their teeth they bit the black fabric and the tits underneath. Aware of Pablo's well-known tolerance for pain and how much it turned him on they bit down hard and heard him groan, "Fuck yeah. Man, that feels good, gives me a huge fucking boner." He pressed their faces into his chest and they feasted on the bulge of his hard protruding nipples.

They were amazed at how much pain Pablo could take, how much it turned him on. Like his dad, the rugged gypsy Randy, they both sometimes needed to test the limits of their endurance. It was a macho kind of thing and they got off on it. Even so, Pablo suddenly grabbed their hair and pulled their heads back off his chest. "Shit damn, guys, you almost made me cream my jeans. But you know what I want, so go for the gold, men."

Tyler and Eddie grinned at each other across Pablo, their eyes sparkling, and they leaned across and kissed each other. "Yeah, that looks fucking hot dudes. But what you two really want is the mechanic's stinking cock, right? So let's see more of that teamwork, eh?"

That could mean only one thing and, in perfect sync, they moved lower. At his waist they pulled up his T-shirt to expose the muscle-jock's ripped abs and ran their tongues along the deep grooves. Then they pulled the shirt completely off and gazed down at the tough handsome mechanic stripped to the waist. Their own cocks were throbbing and they made a great effort to avoid blowing their wad in their shorts.

They moved lower to their ultimate goal and grinned at each other as they saw the long, thick shape running diagonally from Pablo's groin right up to the waistband of his beltless jeans. With their faces bent down side by side they clamped their mouths over the rough denim, biting, sucking, licking the stiff rod though the fabric, making Pablo moan even louder.

"Fuck, you two sure know how to please a man," he groaned. "You like that cock, uh?"

"Yes, sir," Tyler said. "It's beautiful. Hey, Eddie, look at this ..."

He opened the top button of the beltless jeans to reveal the head of the cock showing just above the waistband. "Damn," Eddie said, "it's oozing pre-cum too. You go first, dude."

Tyler licked the tip of his master's cock and sucked in the gossamer thread of pre-cum before yielding his place to Eddie who did the same. Then they unbuttoned his jeans to reveal, inch by inch, his rock hard rod underneath. "Man, that's beautiful," Eddie moaned. While Eddie licked the whole length of the long shaft Tyler opened his mouth wide and sucked in Pablo's balls.

"Oh fuck," Pablo groaned, "you're gonna make me bust my nuts."

"Not us, sir," Eddie said. "We're experts. We know what we're doing."

And he was right. Eddie had spent long hours teaching Tyler the art of edging – of pulling back just as the man approached his climax, giving him the exquisite sensation of denied orgasm. Which is what they did now, with Tyler taking his cue from Eddie as they worked on his cock and balls and brought him to the cusp of orgasm again and again.

They alternated, one sucking his cock while the other licked his balls. Each time Pablo groaned "I'm gonna cum ..." they paused, switched positions, then continued to drive him crazy with desire. "Guys, don't do this to me ... this is fucking torture ... I gotta cum ... make me cum ... let me cum, boys ... Please, let me cum."

That's what they both wanted to hear and Eddie said, "So, Tyler, do we show him mercy and let him blow his load?" Tyler nodded eagerly and Eddie said, "OK, dude, you go first. I'm better at squeezing cum out of a drained cock."

So Tyler released the brakes. He lowered his mouth over the mechanic's cock, taking it deep in his throat, and in only seconds Pablo was yelling, "Yeah ... I'm gonna fucking cum ... here it is ... drink your master's jizz boy ... aaagh!" His cock shuddered in his boy's mouth and the semen that had built up and strained for release now poured down his throat. Tyler gulped hard and swallowed his master's juice until Eddie pulled him off and took over.

As Eddie had said, he was a master at squeezing the last drops from a near-dry cock. With the head deep in his throat he gulped repeatedly, then pursed his lips and pulled his mouth slowly back up the long rod, forcing out every last drop of sperm, which he swallowed like a boy parched with thirst.

Pablo's chest heaved as he groaned, "Guys, that was un-fucking-believable. Man you're good."

But they were not finished, as Eddie knew how to drive a man wild. He held Pablo's cock while Tyler licked the head and the ultra-delicate corona. "No, guys, no more ... my dick can't take anymore." Having cum in a major orgasm his cock was now hypersensitive and contact with it crossed the threshold from pleasure to pain. Eddie grinned, "Dude, we know you can take anything a guy throws at you ... even this!"

He rubbed the flat of his palm against the tip of the cock and Pablo howled in a vortex of agony and ecstasy. His body writhed, his arms flailed, strength coursed through his body and he grabbed both boys behind the head and pulled them down on top of him. For a moment it was a mass of flailing limbs before the boys disengaged and stood up beside the bed gazing down at the exhausted, shirtless mechanic, his grimacing Mestizo features starting to relax at last.

"Allow us, please sir," Tyler said. He and Eddie removed Pablo's boots, then pulled down his jeans. He stared up at them as they pulled off their shirts, dropped their shorts and stood one on each side of the bed. "Sir, you look so beautiful we would like your permission to cum."

"Sure, kid, whatever you want." They smiled at each other across the bed, then down at the naked mechanic as they stroked their cocks. He looked so gorgeous, and they had delayed their orgasms for so long, that it now took only seconds before Eddie said, "OK dude, now!"

Pablo looked up to see streams of semen spraying from their cocks on each side and splashing down on his face. In a shock reflex he opened his mouth and jizz poured in, making him gulp down the juice of the two boys who had worked him over and drained him dry. The boys looked down in awe at the muscle-jock's handsome face streaming with semen.

When the cum stopped flowing Pablo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grinned up at them. "I suppose you two think you're gonna sleep with me now, eh?"

"Yes please, sir," they said in unison. Pablo reached up grabbed their wrists and pulled them on the bed, Tyler lying between them. Young Tyler had never felt happier as Eddie kissed his cheek from one side and Pablo from the other. Pablo grinned, "So I guess you guys proved it – you really do make a perfect team. That double blow-job – un-fucking-believable."

They slept in late next morning and would have slept longer had there not been a knock at the door. Brian and Brandon wheeled themselves in pushing a food cart between them. "Breakfast gentlemen," Brian said. While Pablo, Tyler and Eddie rubbed the sleep from their eyes the two boys set the cart flaps up as a table, and pulled three chairs up to it. Then they sat beside it in their wheelchairs, grinning from ear to ear.

"Dudes," Eddie said, "you shouldn't have done this. Me and Tyler are supposed to be down there helping you set up the party." He looked at the two quizzically. "Hey what's up with you two anyway and that glow around you. Hell, all we need is a boy scout to rub you two boys together and he'd start a fire."

"Not just two boys," Brandon said, trying to control his excitement. "Two lovers," Brian said jubilantly. "Yesterday we had long talks with Grady and Mario and last night in bed we realized we were in love with each other."

Eddie leapt out of bed and hugged them both. "Dudes, that is so cool." Tyler joined him and said, "I thought you were just best friends. But lovers! ... That's amazing."

"And about time too," came Pablo's voice from the bed. "You two have had lover written all over your faces for months. You finally came out of the `buddy' closet, eh? Congratulations, boys. Did you fuck?"

Brandon laughed. "That's the kind of question Randy would ask, Pablo ... and yes we did. Last night and this morning."

"Dudes," Eddie said, "this ain't right. You should be the ones having breakfast served to you in bed ... new lovers always do that."

"So celebrate for us," Brandon said. "But try not to take too long `cos Danny does need help in the kitchen."

"Don't worry, kiddo," Pablo said, rousing himself out of bed and walking naked to the table, his huge cock swinging between his legs. "I won't keep them here long. Quick blow-job, quick breakfast and I'll send them down to you."

"Thank you, sir," said Brian, instinctively using the `sir' for the boss's boy who was now a master himself. He left quickly with Brandon and they wheeled off back to the kitchen. The twins had arrived already and Tommy was there too, having spent the night with his lover Danny. When they came in Danny had just answered the phone. "Yes, sir, of course. Perfectly fine, we look forward to seeing you."

He put down the phone and said, "Brandon that was Pete calling from his car. He has just driven up from San Diego – seems he was able to get away early from that training down there. He's coming here directly, be here in twenty minutes."

"Oh ... oh ..." Brandon said, excited and nervous at the same time. "That's great and ... but ... I wonder how he'll feel about Brian and me being ..."

"Cool it, dude," Brian said. You know Pete, he always wants what you want. Tell you what, best not to meet him in this crowd where you won't be able to talk. Why don't you go up to my room and we'll send him up there as soon as he arrives?"

So a short while later Brandon was sitting in his wheelchair by the bed nervously waiting for the knock at the door. Fortunately he didn't have to wait long. The knock came, the door opened and there stood Pete, still in his Ranger uniform of boots, dark green pants, heavy black belt loaded with equipment, and a short-sleeved beige shirt with Ranger badges and a triangle of white T-shirt under the open neck.

As always Brandon's heart missed a beat when he saw the tall, handsome Ranger in uniform, and now it beat harder with nerves at what he had to tell him. Pete flashed a smile. "The guys told me you were waiting for me here. But what's all the mystery? I've just driven all the way from San Diego and I'm kinda horny."

"Yes, sir ... hello, sir. But first there's something I gotta tell you." He blurted it out in a rush. "See, Brian and me, we decided we're more than friends ... we're lovers and ... and we fucked each other last night. But only if it's OK with you, sir ... if not I'll tell him ..."

He trailed off as Pete looked down at him. "Hm, so you and Brian are in love eh? Guess that cuts me out ... means I don't get to fuck you anymore, or make love to you."

"Oh no, sir," Brandon insisted. "It's not that way at all, sir. I'm still your boy ... look ..." He pulled off his T-shirt, leaned down in his chair and pushed off his sneakers, then lowered his shorts. He hastily pulled himself out of his chair and flopped naked on his back on the bed looking up anxiously at Pete. "You can still fuck me ... please, sir."

Pete threw his head back and laughed. "I was teasing you, kiddo. I'm real stoked about your news. I always knew you and Brian were real close ... always thought you should be lovers."

Brandon frowned and hesitated. "Sir, I wanna ask you ... I mean ... did you and the other guys always think we should be lovers because Brian and me are both in wheelchairs?"

Pete's face clouded. "Brandon, I'm not gonna dignify that comment with an answer. I've always admired you because you never think about the wheelchair thing ... and neither do I. Now you've made me angry, as well as horny. So you're gonna get it, boy."

Brandon's cock swelled as he watched the Ranger unbutton his shirt and pull it off. To Brandon's eye he looked even more sexy stripped down to his T-shirt, especially as he now unzipped his uniform pants and pulling out his long, stiff dick.

He knelt on the bed between Brandon's legs and said. "So this is your punishment for saying such a stupid thing ... you get no lube this time, only spit." Brandon smiled shyly. He and Pete both knew he preferred his master's cock wet, not lubed. He curled his hands behind his knees and pulled his legs back, giving Pete a clear shot at his ass.

Pete spat on his cock, leaned forward, his hands on the bed beside the boy's head, and pressed his cock against his ass. Brandon looked up at his master and ran his hands over his T-shirt feeling the pecs flex underneath. "I ... I'm sorry I said what I did, sir, the wheelchair thing and all."

Pete's look was stern, except for the faint smile lines at the corner of his eyes that only Brandon would have noticed, knowing his master so well. "Trouble is, boy, something like that has to be punished. When a boy makes his master angry he has to be disciplined. Feel that rod pushing against your ass? That's what's gonna do it. You understand?"

"Yes, sir. Definitely sir." Brandon knew this was teasing play-acting, but with a touch of reality that turned him on and made his cock ooze pre-cum.

"Good, just so you understand why I have to do this – after I've stripped for action." Pete pulled back and knelt straight up and pulled his T-shirt off over his head. He tossed it aside, wrapped his hand round his cock and stroked it slowly.

"Aaah," Brandon gasped, staring up at the shirtless Ranger, his muscular chest, broad shoulders, big biceps and chiseled features. "Oh sir, I ..."

"Don't you dare cum, boy. You do that and I'll take off my belt and thrash you. You cum when I say you can, understood?"

"Yes, sir. Sorry sir." Reality and fantasy were merging now and Brandon wasn't sure whether to be scared or excited. A mix of each was just what it took to make his cock throb and make him inhale fast to stave off his orgasm. He worshipped the Ranger, stripped to the waist, slowly stroking his cock as his blue eyes stared down at him.

Pete reached down and twisted Brandon's nipples, causing a jolt of pain that made him wince. "See, boy, you're at the mercy of a Ranger now. And he's gonna punish you. It's what you deserve and, I think, what you want. Let me hear it. Tell me what you want."

"Yes, I do want it, sir. I want you to punish me, sir, I want you to shove your dick in my ass. Do whatever you want to your boy's ass."

"Good answer, kid, `cos that's just what I'm gonna do." Pete leaned forward and clamped Brandon's wrists to the bed level with his head. He eased his cock between the cheeks of Brandon's ass, paused, then pushed it slowly over the sphincter, then all the way until it came to rest deep inside him.

Brandon panted hard, desperate to hold back his orgasm as he felt the ecstasy of the Ranger's shaft resting inside him. "Thank you, sir," he panted. "I love you, sir."

"Oh yeah? Wonder if you'll love this." Pete pulled his cock all the way back, then plunged it in again hard and fast. Then again ... and again, harder than his usual loving fuck ... and it drove his boy wild.

"Oh sir, that feels so good. I think I'm gonna ... I can't hold back ... please, sir let me cum ..."

"OK, this time you can. Now!" The Ranger pulled back, paused, then drove his rod in so hard it passed over the inner sphincter and came to rest in the fiery depths of his ass. Brandon's eyes opened wide, he stared up at Pete and shouted, "Oh fuck ... fuck ... I'm gonna cum ... I'm gonna cum ... aaagh ..." His cock erupted in a stream of semen that splashed on his chest all the way to his neck.

When his cock stopped gushing and his heartbeat slowed and he opened his eyes, the handsome face of the man he idolized was smiling down at him. "End of punishment, boy. I can't hurt you, kid, I love you too much for that. But I am gonna fuck you some more until I unload my jizz in that sweet ass. You ready to make love, kiddo?"

"Yes please, sir."

"And if I let you touch your cock, you think you might be able to cum again when I do?"

"Yes, sir – definitely, sir."

"Good boy, so that's what we'll do." He bent down and kissed Brandon, then released his hands so the boy could stroke his cock as his master's rod slid slowly, gently in and out of his ass. It didn't take long before Brandon was saying, "Sir, it feels so good ... so good I'm ready again. Whenever you say, sir."

"How about right now, kiddo?" Pete smiled. "My nuts are about ready to burst."

This time there was no yelling, no wild eyes, just a man and his boy cumming together, kissing each other, loving each other. As their cock's drained Pete grinned, "How was that for punishment, kiddo?"

"I loved it, sir. I think I should misbehave more often."

"I'm all for that." Pete lay down beside him and pulled Brandon's head on his chest. "And now, I know you're supposed to be on duty downstairs but I'm gonna exercise my master's rights and keep you here awhile. OK with you?"

"Whatever you say, sir," Brandon grinned, snuggling closer. "You're the boss."

While Brandon was lying happily in Pete's arms Brian loaded his wheelchair tray table with breakfast for Grady and Mario. It was getting late and he figured their morning gyrations must be over by now. His timing was good, they had just finished and were lying together in bed with satisfied smiles on their faces.

As Brian came in they got out of bed and helped him set up the breakfast on the table by the window. Mario flashed a raised-eyebrows grin at Grady, then asked Brian, "Er, where's Brandon?"

"He's in my room with Pete, sir. Giving him the news."

"The news being that you two are in love, right?" Grady said. "Please tell me I'm right, kiddo."

"You are, sir," Brian beamed, "and we have you guys to thank for that – talking to us yesterday and all. But, er, I wanted to ask ... I mean, you've always treated me as your boy, sirs, and ..."

"And you still are," Grady said. "Nothing's changed there, kiddo. You are our boy and you better be here whenever we need you ..."

"... which will be pretty much whenever you're not with Brandon," Mario grinned.

"Oh I'll be here, alright," Brian beamed. "And do you still want me to run lines from your script with you, sir?"

"You bet. When Mario does it I get so distracted wanting to fuck with him that I can't remember a thing. So we start tomorrow – lot of work to do, eh, kiddo?"

"I'll be here, sir. But right now I'm needed downstairs. The guys are starting to arrive."

He wheeled himself happily away and Mario smiled, "So, the boys are in love and that closes that little chapter in our lives. Let's see what's next." He looked out of the window. "Ah, there's Bob and Randy just come in with Mark and Jamie. We better eat quickly, amico, because Bob will want to get on with the meeting."

"And then the games begin," Grady smiled. "You know what I love about our parties, dude? All the guys are so relaxed. All week they work hard but here they're away from work, away from their homes and all mixed up together, ready to play. And what a mix. It's neutral territory so anything goes. You never know what's gonna happen, who's gonna wind up fucking who. Sure keeps the gossip mill grinding.

"And gossip is like mother's milk to you, amico," Mario laughed.

"There's only one thing I like better, you sexy beast. Do we have time?"

"No we don't, Grady. Shut up and eat."

A short time later they were sitting at the conference table in the office with Bob, Jamie and Brandon. Bob was their business manager and financial adviser, taking care of their numerous investments. He often repeated the same advice, "Showbiz is weird, guys. One minute you're earning the big, big bucks and suddenly the gravy train stops, so we have to invest wisely."

Grady grinned, "This gravy train is gonna keep running for a while, Bob. The first Tarzan movie made so much money we're already filming the sequel, and the studio says it's gonna be a franchise, like Star Wars. We'll be filming Tarzan-Part 22 when I'm so old I won't be able to hobble to the trees let alone swing from them."

Brandon and Jamie were there because Brandon did the book-keeping under Jamie's supervision, and they kept a tight control on the budget. Mario showed a keen interest in Bob's proposals and asked a lot of questions, while Grady paid very little attention to the details and signed whatever papers Bob pushed across the table to him.

"It's a good job you can trust me, Grady," Bob smiled. "You could be signing all your worldly wealth over to me and you'd be none the wiser. Business managers in Hollywood are notorious for pulling stunts like that."

"I don't care," Grady said. "If that happened Mario and me would go and live in a little cabin in the woods and make love all day. And I'd pay Randy to beat you up. Where is he, by the way?"

"Amico," Mario said patiently, "you know that he and Mark are doing their monthly inspection of the perimeter to check the security. It's essential to keep out prying eyes. If anyone got wind of the goings-on here it would be tabloid fodder for weeks. Mark even comes up here in uniform and leaves his police motorcycle parked outside to warn off any snooping paparazzi."

"Hm, that blond hunk in his cop uniform, eh?" Grady grinned salaciously. "Gets me hard just thinking about it." Mario smacked his hand – "down tiger, focus" – and the meeting continued.

But Grady wasn't the only man turned on by the image of Mark in uniform. Right now he and Randy were in the far corner of the extensive grounds and, while they were doing their job of checking the fence and security cameras, each man was constantly distracted by glimpses of the other – Mark in his black uniform, Randy in blue jeans, boots and an old gray T-shirt stretched over his torso.

Mark was taking notes for his report to Mario and Danny. He had already found two misaligned cameras and Randy was testing the strength of a cracked portion of fence. "Me and Zack can fix that," he said. "Needs a whole new section of fence, embedded deeper than this one." He watched as Mark noted the flaws on a pad.

Grady had been right about the unusual freedom the men felt when they were at the Grady House. At home they were constrained by their familiar surroundings and domestic routine, but up here it was neutral territory, as Grady had said, and it felt almost like a vacation, where restraints were few and libidos were strong.

Randy smiled as he watched Mark concentrate on his notes. "Shit damn, Mark, you get more fucking gorgeous all the time, you know that? I dunno why Bob and me haven't tangled with you in a while."

The three men had, over time, gone through something of a trial of strength and competing egos, inevitable in three such alpha males with conflicting sexual desires. At one time they were even known as the toxic trio. But it had all been finally resolved when the three men admitted to themselves and each other that they were in love with each other, and they became the triumphant trio. Since then rivalries had been buried and they were free to indulge their mutual passions – either two-way or three-way – without restraint

And now, as Mark flashed a seductive smile at Randy, these two would have indulged that passion had it not been for the deep, lusty voice of Zack. "Hey, guys – what d'ya think?"

"Jesus Christ!" Randy gasped as he and Mark turned to see Zack, Darius and Miguel approaching – the leathermen as Mario had called them – all in full leather.

Zack, the black alpha leather-master with the stunning physique, rugged features and shaved head was in boots, leather pants and a sleeveless black denim shirt open over this chest, displaying the slabs of his pecs and ripped eight-pack abs. His boy Darius, the black senior boy of the tribe, copied his master in muscularity and dress, also in boots and black leather pants, but with a black tank top stretched over his torso.

Miguel was the Hispanic muscle-god who was a long-lost friend of Zack, the first man either had ever had sex with, and they were now inseparable buddies. Miguel was a leather fantasy in boots, black leather chaps over blue-jeans and a black leather vest flapping open, his chest and abs on spectacular display.

"What the fuck ...?" Mark grinned."

"Hey," Zack said, flashing his gleaming ebony smile. "If you're into leather that's not something you hide in the leather closet. Leather's a frame of mind – if you've got it flaunt it. We decided that we'd bring a touch of glamor to this gathering of the clan."

"Well you sure succeeded," Mark laughed. "You'll have the boys creaming their shorts when they get a look at you three, eh Randy?"

He glanced at Randy who was staring hard at Miguel. Mark knew that look and he thought back to the tortured history the two men shared when Miguel first arrived in L.A. as Zack's new lover.

Back then Randy, as boss of the tribe, had felt entitled to fuck with the new man, but it went further than that. In the rough sex they shared they each found a kindred spirit and, for several days on a fishing trip, indulged their lust and fantasies to the full. Randy was so intoxicated by the hunky Hispanic that he even ignored his lover Bob, to the point of embarrassing neglect. Passions swirled among all the men, and it eventually fell to their boys to make them see sense.

Since then amends had been made, friendships and relationships restored, and Miguel had taken his place as one of the respected senior men of the tribe. But carnal lust springs from a well too deep to be entirely eliminated by apologies and handshakes, and all the men accepted that these visceral sexual desires still existed and had to be satisfied, albeit in a spirit of harmony rather than the raw antagonism they had first inspired.

The most voracious of these desires existed between Randy and Miguel, who recognized that their unique sexual appetites could sometimes be filled only by another rugged alpha male with similar cravings.

There was no romantic component to this, unlike the rich and lasting relationships shared by Randy and Bob, and by Zack and Miguel. It was understood by all of the men that these were fleeting carnal couplings that had no adverse effects on the relationships in the tribe – except, maybe, when they first flared up unexpectedly, as had happened with Randy and Miguel. It was all part of the tribe's creed, established by Randy himself, that all sex within the tribe was allowed, provided it stayed within the tribe and nobody got hurt.

Randy, his eyes fixed on Miguel's like a homing beacon, walked forward, grasped his hand, and said simply, "Hi, buddy." And at that moment everyone present knew what had to happen. As the group exchanged small-talk Zack pulled Miguel aside and said, "It's OK, buddy, I understand. Do what you have to, it's OK with me."

"Thanks for saying that, Zack. I don't want it to make any difference to us."

"It won't," Zack grinned. "Except that I'll have to punish you later, of course."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, stud," Miguel smiled.

A short distance away Mark looked meaningfully at Randy who pulled out his cell phone. "Hey Bob, your meeting nearly over? Good, er, listen dude, Zack and Darius just got here ... with, um, Miguel. He's looking real hot in leather chaps and vest and ..."

"... and you two boys want to stay out and play with each other," Bob laughed, like an indulgent parent. "Randy, it's been a long time since you and that gorgeous man did your thing and I think you should now. Always good to clear the air ... and the cravings. So go for it, big guy. `Course, I'll have to punish you later."

"As only you can," Randy chuckled. "Thanks, big guy. I love you man."

Randy shut off the phone and Mark said, "He gave you permission to stay out and play?"

"I knew you would put it like that, officer. Let's just say Bob's OK with it. You, er ... are you going in to see him after their meeting?"

"Yeah," Mark said, trying to sound casual. "I had planned on ... on spending time with him. By the way, buddy, I'm glad you made that phone call." Mark grinned, "You're growing up at last."

"Fuck you, officer," Randy chuckled. "I'll pay you back for that, asshole."

"Bring it on, stud. Maybe come and join Bob and me when you're finished with your hot leather-hunk over there. Or rather, when he's finished with you."

Zack went off to strut his stuff with the gathering group of men and boys, while Mark went in to see Bob after his business meeting. Darius had other ideas and ran off to get his camera from his truck. That left Randy and Miguel suddenly alone with each other walking along by the fence, glancing at each other as if sizing each other up.

Faintly embarrassed by their lust for each other they made small talk at first. "So how often do you check on the security here?" Miguel asked, his husky Spanish accent making Randy's cock swell in his jeans. Trying to sound calm Randy replied, "About once a month ... more if the guys report a problem. As a cop Mark is the expert on security – cameras and stuff. I just mend the fences."

"Something you often have to do, as I recall," Miguel smiled. "So you do the grunt work, just your average construction worker eh?"

Randy grinned at him. "You know better than that, man."

They stopped walking and Randy gazed at him. "Dammit man, you look fucking hot in leather. He reached forward and ran his hand under Miguel's leather vest, feeling his pecs, hard as rocks. Seized by surging desire he pulled Miguel to him and their mouths clamped together in a grinding kiss, licking, biting, tongues pressing hard against each other.

They pulled away and their gleaming eyes met. Miguel fell once again under the spell of those hypnotic blue eyes, and Randy was mesmerized by the deep brown eyes set in the dark Hispanic face, with its square jaw, high cheekbones and mass of black hair. It was as if they were seeing into each other's soul and Randy growled, "You and me, we're two of a kind, walk to the beat of the same drummer. You know what I want, don't you?"

"I have a pretty good idea, Randy."

"And the thing is, only you can give it to me. Not Bob, we love each other too much. Not even the big leather master Zack, `cos we've been such close buddies for so long. I could go to the rougher parts of town and find it but that would be a betrayal to Bob."

"And he's OK with this?"

"I just called him. He knows me so well, he knows what I need ... what we're doing. And Zack?"

"Likewise. We're so close now that he understands this – you and me – provided I give him a blow by blow description afterwards."

"Blow by blow, uh? I think someone's gonna do better than describe it. I caught sight of Darius prowling with his camera. Don't worry, he's an old hand, stays invisible when he does this stuff. For the archives, he says."

They walked on in silence, all talked out. At the far corner of the property by a stand of trees there was an ancient potting shed. When they reached the trees they stood under a high horizontal branch and Miguel growled. "Wait here. Don't move."

He went into the shed and poked around until he found what he needed. He came back with two lengths of rope and threw one over the branch. He wrapped one end round Randy's wrist and hauled on the other end, raising Randy's arm until it was stretched upward. Then he secured that end too to his wrist.

Suddenly a captive, the construction worker instinctively yanked at the rope, the sleeve of his T-shirt pulling back off his bulging bicep. "Fuck you, man," he growled.

Miguel stood back and gazed at the swarthy, muscular gypsy, one arm stretched upward, tied to the branch. His old gray T-shirt pulled up from his waist exposing a glimpse of his razor abs.

"That is fucking beautiful, man," Miguel groaned, rubbing the bulge in his jeans at the opening of his chaps. "Look at that huge bulge at your crotch. You know it's throbbing. Grab it, man."

"Fuck you."

"I said grab your crotch asshole. I wanna see a big stud like you humiliate himself."

It was the construction boss's first act of obedience to the dominant muscle jock. As ordered he grabbed his crotch with his free hand as he seemingly hung from the tree by the other arm. Miguel rubbed his own crotch hard, murmuring, "Fuck ... that is so fucking hot. A gorgeous fucking alpha male in my power. Major fantasy of mine."

He stepped forward, grabbed Randy's T-shirt, bunched it in his fist and pulled Randy toward him, making his bound arm stretch upward even more. Their eyes locked, Miguel pulled him closer and clamped his mouth over Randy's in another grinding kiss, accompanied by the first sounds of ripping fabric.

Still kissing ravenously Miguel took his hand off the shirt, pressed his bare chest against Randy's and rubbed against him, separated by only the thin fabric of the T-shirt. Their bulges ground against each other too and the sexual heat between them was reaching a point close to orgasm when Miguel abruptly pulled away and paced around catching his breath.

Randy stared greedily at the tall, rugged leatherman, at his flawless physique under his leather vest, his wild eyes burning with the same craving that burned in Randy's. "Shit man, I need it so bad," Randy groaned. "Give it to me."

Miguel said, "I always wondered how far I could take you, stud ... how much you could take. Guess I'm about to find out."

He moved close, ran his hands over the T-shirt and felt the damp patch under his raised arm. He bent forward and pressed his face in his armpit, and the rancid taste and smell of man sweat drove him wild. He bit down on the wet fabric and yanked his head back, ripping the shirt, baring his pit, then licked the wet, wiry hair exposed by the torn shirt.

Overwhelmed by the sensation Miguel was again on the edge of climax when he pulled away and stood at a distance again to gaze on the homoerotic sight of the captive gypsy, one arm roped and stretched up, his shredded shirt hanging from his shoulder over his chest, exposing glimpses of his bare chest.

Randy's laser blue eyes stared back with a fierce mix of defiance and desire. Miguel stroked his own crotch with the palm of his hand and moaned, "Shit damn, what a fucking beautiful man. We gotta take this to the next level, big guy."

He went close again, picked up the other length of rope and tied Randy's right arm to the tree branch as he had the left. He stood back to stare again at the rugged construction worker with his square, stubbled jaw and long black hair falling over his sculpted features, helplessly bound, his arms stretched up in a V, his torn T-shirt hanging over the flexed muscles of his chest.

"Fucking pornographic, man. No wonder everyone falls in love with you, crawls at your feet. But this time it's your turn to crawl, top man. You're a hard man to match ... but try this."

Miguel shrugged off his vest and stood stripped to the waist, black leather chaps over his blue jeans cinching his tight waist. The opening of the chaps at the crotch framed a huge bulge where his cock and balls throbbed under the jeans. He stared threateningly at Randy and flexed his chest, biceps and broad shoulders.

That was Randy's pornographic vision and he groaned. "You are one beautiful fucking specimen of a man. I need it so bad. Give it to me, stud. Come on, do it?"

Miguel didn't move and, in a pitch of frustration Randy struggled to get free and touch the man, yanking at the ropes, pulling himself up off the ground, his legs thrashing in the air as his muscles rippled and bulged in a futile attempt at freedom. His feet finally touched the ground and Miguel walked up to him, grabbed a fistful of his long hair and pulled him forward in another churning kiss.

Then he pulled away, their blazing eyes met and Miguel slapped the back of his hand across Randy's face. In a reflex of defiance Randy spat full in the Hispanic's face that broke into a sadistic smile as Miguel wiped the spit from his face and smeared it over Randy's mouth.

"You really want it, don't you asshole? Miguel raised his hand again and slapped him repeatedly, one cheek then the other, making the stubbled gypsy face jerk from side to side, his long black hair flying.

When he stopped Randy stared wildly at him and snarled, "Yeah, give it to me, man. Or maybe you don't have the guts, asshole. You gonna wimp out on me?"

"Fuck you, man ... fuck you." In a rage Miguel unbuckled Randy's belt, slid it out of his jeans, raised his arm and lashed the belt across his back. Randy gritted his teeth and stared defiantly at the shirtless leather-jock as he raised his arm again and again, lashing his back, chest and shoulders. The force of the blows tore one side of the already ripped shirt so it hung loose from one shoulder across his chest as the blows continued to fall.

Soon the shirt fell from his shoulder and hung in shreds round his waist and the whipping stopped. Miguel stood back to stare at the incredible fantasy of the macho gypsy, stripped to the waist now, his bare chest and back crisscrossed with red welts, shreds of gray cloth hanging round his waist.

The sight fulfilled Miguel's wildest fantasy of seeing a dominant alpha male get bound and beaten, but he still felt a major frustration. Despite putting all his strength into the effort, he had still not elicited a sound from his captive, no howl of pain, no begging for mercy or pleas of submission.

He walked up to him and slammed his fist in his stomach, then subjected him to a savage bout of pec-punching and gut-punching that would have made a lesser man beg for mercy. Randy's body jerked under the pounding fists, his pecs and abs flexed hard to withstand the blows, but still he stared at his tormenter defiantly, without a sound.

Miguel stopped the onslaught at last and smiled mockingly. "You're a tough son-of-a-bitch, but I can break you, man – even you have your limit."

"Go fuck yourself, asshole," Randy sneered.

Miguel slapped him across the chest where his flesh was tender from the blows, and Randy winced in pain, but still no sound. Miguel ripped open the prisoner's jeans and pulled out his rock hard dick and bulging balls. "One sure way to make any man submit ... even the King of the Gypsies. He spat in his palm and wrapped it round Randy's cock, stroking it slowly and making Randy breathe heavily. Then he flicked his fingers against his balls, making him gasp.

"OK, stud, here's the submission hold. This is where I win." He grabbed Randy's balls and squeezed them, lightly at first but then increasing the pressure to see how much he could take. It was much more than Miguel expected but eventually tears spurted from Randy's eyes as pain shot from his agonized balls and he howled. "Enough! I'm done ... aaagh ... stop. OK, you win ... I give up ... I submit ..."

"You know the magic word, big guy."

"Stop, please stop. I beg you, sir. I submit ... sir."

Miguel immediately released Randy's balls and gazed into his eyes. "Nothing turns me on like hearing a top man beg and submit to another. You're finished man, you're mine, and I'm gonna prove it by humiliating you – stripping you naked and fucking the cum out of you."

He knelt down and pulled Randy's boots off, then pulled down his jeans and tossed them aside. He stepped back and stared at the bound muscle-god, tears streaking his swarthy face, his body stretched in bondage, naked except for the shreds of shirt still hanging loosely round his waist. Despite the cock and ball torture, or because of it, his long thick cock was rock hard.

"Damn, you're magnificent," Miguel said. "And I broke you. You know what comes last. It had to end this way. I'm gonna fuck your ass and you're gonna submit to me again by blowing your load while my rod hammers your ass. The final humiliation of the King of the Gypsies.

"But let's even things up a bit, eh. I've often said that one thing hotter than watching a men putting on leather is taking it off. You lost, man, as you knew you would, so now watch your master get naked."

Miguel bent down and pulled off his boots. Then he unzipped his chaps, one leg then the other, unbuckled the waist and let them drop. He paced back and forth barefoot in blue jeans that hugged his slim waist and accentuated the bulge of his perfect ass. And as Randy watched the muscle-jock flaunt his beauty he knew exactly what he wanted. Finally Miguel undid his jeans and pulled them off, dazzling Randy with his nakedness and the globes of his bare ass.

Miguel picked up the belt again and flipped the end against Randy's cock, whipping it lightly, watching it bounce under the light blows. "I'm gonna make that thing shoot all that jizz you got inside you, stud, by pounding your ass. I wanna watch you prove I am the best by busting your load for me. I'll even make it easy for you. I'll let you beat off while you get butt fucked.

He reached up and untied the roped from Randy's right wrist, leaving his left arm firmly tied and stretched. "Now, I won, so you gotta do as I tell you. Stroke your cock." Randy obeyed. "Good boy. Now I'm gonna go for the gold.

He went behind Randy, spat on his cock and stroked it. He pressed the head between the solid ass cheeks and said. "Brace yourself, stud. Like I said, the top man's final humiliation ... taking it up the ass from the man who captured and whipped him. Here it comes, man."

With one hand still tightly bound, the other stroking his cock, Randy breathed deep. And a split second before the thrust came he spun round, pulled Miguel back against his chest and wrapped his free arm round his throat from behind.

"No!" Miguel yelled, but any other words were choked off as his throat was clamped tight in the crook of Randy's arm, the bulging bicep pressed against his cheek. Reflexively the muscle-jock clawed at the arm trying to loosen it but Randy growled, "Hopeless, man. You can claw, punch, bite, whatever you like but I already proved I can take anything you can throw at me. And this time you can't reach my balls `cos they'll be pressed against your ass ... like this."

"Aaagh." It was the naked leatherman's turn to scream as Randy's massive shaft drove deep in his ass, pulled back and slammed in again at the start of a brutal fuck. Miguel's arms waved wildly, groping for a way to retaliate. But Randy growled in his ear, "Forget it, asshole. One squeeze of my arm and I could choke you. It's payback time."

In a haze of pain Miguel knew it was true. All he could do was claw at the bicep and forearm but they were solid as rocks and he knew he was beaten. The gypsy's shaft pistoned savagely in his ass and the pain began to dissolve as he realized the truth. He was a captive in a bone-crushing submission hold, being fucked in the ass by the brawny construction boss in retaliation for being tied up and whipped.

His mind flashed on the image of the rugged gypsy face getting slapped, the magnificent body stretched in bondage, his shredded T-shirt hanging over his heaving chest, his screams as his balls got crushed, and his humiliating submission. And this was the man who was fucking him right now. The tables had turned. He was his prisoner and that pile-driving shaft was pounding his ass, making his cock shudder, making him yell, "I'm gonna cum ... you win, man ... I give up ... I submit ... I submit, sir ... aaagh ... aaagh."

His body tensed, muscles flexed hard, and his cock exploded with a stream of cum that rose in the air and splashed down on the grass in a massive orgasm that seemed to go on forever, and ended only when the exhausted muscle-jock hung limply from the steel trap of Randy's arm round his throat.

Randy pulled his cock out of his ass, loosened his hold, raised his foot and pushed the beaten man away hard, sending him sprawling on the ground. Stunned, Miguel gathered his wits and looked up to see Randy reach up with his free hand trying to loosen the rope tied tightly round his bound wrist.

"No," Miguel groaned. "No." His ass was still on fire as he dragged himself across the grass, grabbed Randy's leg and pulled himself forward. His face fell on Randy's bare foot and he kissed it in a final act of submission to the King of the Gypsies. Clinging to Randy's body he pulled himself up until he was standing face to face with him. "OK, stud," he panted, you win. But you know it can't end like this. I know you too well. One more act to play out. That's why you didn't cum in my ass."

Randy's eyes pierced his. "Damn right. So give it to me stud. Do it hard. Make me cum."

Miguel reach for Randy's free wrist and tied it to the end of the rope, stretching it up as it was before. Miguel picked the belt up off the ground and held it dangling from his hand. Their eyes met with that surreal soul-deep understanding of each other's desires, two alpha males, stripped naked, with the same craving, the same raw needs

"Give it to me, man," Randy growled. "Come on, stud ... do it hard."

The leather-jock raised his arm and slashed the belt across the chest of the bound gypsy. "Hit me ... hard," Randy yelled, sexually aroused by the feat of pushing his own limits of endurance. Miguel lashed his chest, his abs, his thighs again and again, at one point yelling, "You got more in you, man?"

"Yeah," Randy roared defiantly. "Give it to me ... give it to me ... make me blow my load, man."

With every last ounce of his strength Miguel pounded the magnificent body that writhed in bondage, the stubbled face thrashing from side to side, hair flying as he screamed. "Yeah, give it to me, stud. Make me cum ... aaagh ... make me cum ...!"

The wild gypsy pulled up on the ropes, every muscle flexed, every sinew bulged, legs kicking wildly as he screamed and his cock blasted stream after stream of jizz across the grass. Miguel sank to his knees before him and let the semen pour down on him, a final act of homage to the alpha male who had triumphed in the homoerotic fantasy of the ultimate trial of strength.

Miguel got to his feet, semen pouring down his face, stumbled forward and untied Randy's wrists. He was amazed that Randy grinned calmly at him and said, "Fucking great orgasm, man. Shit, I needed that and you gave it to me good. I spend all my time being the big boss, the dominant male, throwing orders around, but sometimes I feel the need to take it instead of dishing it out. But it only works with a gorgeous top man like you."

Miguel smiled. "You were fucking spectacular, man. And next time that mood comes over you, you know where to find me."

"Un-fucking-believable, guys," came Darius's voice as he emerged from the trees, holding up his camera. I got it all – definitely one for the highlight reel. You wanna come and show Zack, Miguel? Can't wait to see him beat off while he watches it."

"Sure, dude," Miguel grinned. "Randy, you sure you're OK?"

"I am now, man, never better. Thanks to you." They held each other in a long, tight embrace, then pulled apart as Randy looked down at his swelling cock and said, "I better go before this all starts up again. I need to go see Bob ... he'll be upstairs with Mark ... I need them. He pulled on his jeans and boots and slung the shredded remains of his shirt over his shoulder. "Later, dude," he grinned.

As Miguel and Darius watched him stride away, his bare back striped with red welts, Miguel said, "Darius, my man. There goes one spectacular fucking man. God knows how Bob and Mark will react when he barges in on them looking like that."

Earlier, when Mark had left Randy and Miguel alone, he had gone in search of Bob. Inside the house he ran into Brian and said, "Hi, kiddo. I need to find Bob and get out of this cop uniform."

"Yes, sir, the meeting's over and Bob went to take a shower in one of the guestrooms. Upstairs, third door on the right, sir. And you can change out of your uniform there too, sir," Brian said with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Mark bounded up the stairs, found the room and knocked on the door. No answer, but he heard the faint sound of running water so he went in. Just as he closed the door behind him the water stopped and a minute later the bathroom door opened and Bob came out. He was butt naked and didn't see Mark at first as his head and face were in a towel he was using to dry his hair.

When he lowered the towel, though, he stopped in his tracks and stared at Mark. "Oh," he said, taken by surprise, and with instinctive modesty wrapped the towel round his waist.

They stared at each other in silence, the Greek-God blond cop in his black uniform and motorcycle boots, and the naked man with the features and body of Superman, water running down his face and flawless muscular physique."

"Hello, Mark." "Hi Bob." Another shy silence, then Bob said, "Randy with Miguel is he?"

"Yeah, you OK with that, buddy?"

"Oh yeah, sure. He called me and I told him I was fine with it. Randy sometimes has cravings that can't be satisfied by me, Zack or any of the guys, except Miguel. He'll do his thing with Miguel, then probably come join us."

Still they stared at each other for long seconds, then Mark said, "Man, you look so ... so totally fucking gorgeous. Come here." He opened his arms.

"I'll make your uniform wet," Bob smiled.

"Fuck the uniform, man. Fuck everything. I want you so bad, dude."

"Me too, Mark. You're right, fuck the uniform." And he walked naked into the cop's arms.

TO BE CONTINUED IN "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 389

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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