A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 414 By Rob Williams

CHAPTER 414 – "THE JOCK TO THE COP – PAYBACK TIME, OFFICER"

IN THIS CHAPTER:

The handsome blond police officer Mark is proud of the way his boy, the hot young jock Jamie, has matured into a leader of the boys. He rewards him with a fantasy where the cop arrests the surfer and forces him to service him sexually as the price of release. But later, the macho jock turns the tables on the cop and roles are reversed. "It's payback time, officer. Now let's see how much you can take."

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

Miguel's new boy Finn was now well and truly a member of the tribe. It had been a long process, though, with many ups and downs, and turned out to be a learning experience not only for Finn himself, but for many members of the tribe.

Some of the incidents that had occurred still resonated, one in particular that shone a very positive light on one of the senior boys, Jamie, the hot young surfer and much-loved boy of the cop Mark.

After the boss's boy Pablo had insulted and attacked Finn he had been called before a meeting of the senior boys. The meeting had, as always, been recorded on video and given to the tribe's co-leader Bob, who later spoke to his good friend Mark.

"Mark, I wanted you to see a clip of the meeting the senior boys convened to decide on Pablo's punishment. Your boy Jamie opened the meeting with a short speech and this is part of it. He clicked the remote and Jamie came on the screen.

"Pablo, none of us likes this meeting but you dishonored us with your impulsive attack on a new boy and not only insulted Finn but, even more serious, his master Miguel too. But what hurts the most, Pablo, is that this tribe had always been a refuge for boys who've had a raw deal in life.

"All of us here fit that description – me and my skinhead pal Larry running wild on the streets, the homeless twins living rough, Nate a lonely kid far from home. You yourself were rescued from a gang of thugs, Pablo. Not to mention junior boys like Eddie, sucking dicks for tips in the back room of a bar, and Brandon living a brave and difficult life alone in a wheelchair. The tribe rescued us all, welcomed and nurtured us.

"Then along comes this damaged young guy, living the degrading life of a hustler to survive. Miguel finds him, sees promise in him, and gives him a chance of salvation. Finn is taking his first nervous steps on the path to redemption that we all took, but you, the `boss's boy', block his way. You heap scorn on him, reject him, attack him and drive him away. Way to go, Pablo. What you did runs counter to everything the tribe stands for."

Bob clicked off the TV and there was a momentarily silence as Bob looked at Mark whose eyes brimmed with tears. "God, he's beautiful, isn't he Bob? That speech was perfect – he defined the tribe exactly. I am so proud of my boy – he has matured into just what I hoped for.

"But you know, Bob, I sometimes take him for granted – always expect him to be there naked on the bed when I come home from work. I gotta do something to show him how much I love him. Maybe a trip out to Uncle Mike in Palm Springs so we can spend time together and he can visit his pal Larry."

Later that evening Mark brought up the subject to Jamie when they were hanging out together in the small garden behind their apartment. "Jamie, earlier today Bob played me part of the video of the boys' meeting yesterday. He wanted me to see that little speech you made to Pablo about how the tribe has always been a refuge for boys who've had a raw deal in life. Man, I don't mind telling you it brought tears to my eyes. It was so eloquent and right on target."

"I was only saying what I feel, sir."

"But that's the point, Jamie. Your feelings are what I love about you ... plus the small fact of you being a drop-dead gorgeous young jock. Jamie, I don't express my own feelings often ... it comes from being a cop, I guess. And sometimes I think I take you for granted – you know, you're always there on the bed waiting for me to fuck you when I get off my shift."

"Highlight of my day, sir," Jamie grinned.

"Mine too, buddy. But seriously, you make me so damn proud of you, and I want us to spend time together so I can really show you the love and respect I feel for you. I've got a ton of comp time coming at work so how about we take off for a week somewhere, you and me? Maybe go out to the desert to see Uncle Mike and his boy, your pal Larry, in Palm Springs?"

"Thank you for saying that about me, sir, and I'd love to get away together. As a matter of fact there's something I wanted to tell you – get it off my chest. It's about Larry. You know that trouble they had some time back when Larry was fooling around with some guy and Mike thought Larry would leave him?"

"Sure but that was all smoothed over wasn't it?"

"It was, but it seems Larry's gone off the rails again, something more serious this time. He called to confide in me and asked me not to spread it around, but I've been wanting to tell you."

Mark sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, Larry had the same wild early life as you, but then you became my boy and he went back to that abusive family. He had it rough and never had much of a chance until he met Mike and they fell in love. But I guess he still has that bad seed buried deep inside. I'm sorry to hear that `cos I love old Mike as we all do. So are you saying you'd like us to go out to the Springs so you can check Larry out and see if you can help?"

"That's about it, sir. I just think he needs a pal right now. We go back a long way and I'm probably one of the few guys he can talk to. Things are rough between him and Mike right now, but you know Mike – doesn't want the tribe to know, thinks he can sort it out by himself."

"Sounds pretty urgent to me," Mark said. "I'm sure I can juggle things so I can start my leave tomorrow, and I'll try to persuade Bob to give you a week off from the office."

Jamie chuckled. "I think you could persuade Bob to do anything, sir, he's so crazy about you."

"Good, that's the plan, then. But Jamie, I wanna do something for you right now. Whatever you want. Close your eyes and make a wish."

Jamie smiled and shut his eyes. "Hmm ... I wish ... I wish I could open my eyes and see a gorgeous blond cop in uniform standing there, about to arrest me for ... say ... lewd conduct."

"Man, I am about to prove to you that sometimes, as in all good stories, wishes really do come true. Wait right there." Mark went into the house leaving Jamie to dream.

********************* CHAPTER 414 ***********************

Jamie, barefoot in his usual board shorts and loose tank top, lay back in an old Adirondack in the garden waiting for Mark to come back out of the house. His eyes were closed and his mind wandered. He loved moments like this.

His life with Mark usually followed a routine – a routine he had come to love over the years. The culmination every day came when the uniformed blond cop got home hot and horny after patrolling the streets of L.A. on his motorcycle, expecting to find his surfer jock on the bed naked – which he always was – waiting to get fucked – which he always did.

But it wasn't always so routine. Mark was as good as any of the men at playing out sexual fantasies, a specialty of the tribe. They were an oversexed bunch of men and boys, but too many standard sex acts could get repetitive so they had learned to be creative. Subscribing to the belief that a man's largest sexual organ is his brain, their imaginative minds created fantasies that would have fit right into any good porn video.

Jamie knew that the best fantasies were the ones most true to life – situations that felt real. The classic was the real-life situation when Mark had met Bob for the first time. It had become the stuff of legend in the tribe, often repeated or imagined when a guy needed to get his rocks off alone. His eyes closed, feeling the warmth of after-dinner brandies, Jamie now luxuriated in running all the details of the story through his mind.

Bob, the handsome business executive who could have been a clone of Superman – or Clark Kent rather, in his business suit – had headed home after a business lunch where he had closed a deal, but it had had taken three martinis to do it. He was too drunk to go back to the office and decided to go straight home. He knew he was also way too drunk to drive, so he took the quiet way home through the winding roads of Griffith Park, the hilly, semi-wilderness area in the middle of the city at the edge of the Hollywood Hills. [See Chapter 18]

There was very little traffic and, despite the martinis, he managed the narrow roads well until he realized he had taken a dead end. Cursing silently he did a U-turn in the isolated, rustic road and almost immediately saw the red light of a cop in his rear-view mirror.

This time he cursed out loud. A drunk-driving ticket would mean the loss of his driver's license and even his job. So when he pulled over and lowered the window he prepared to bargain with the cop who had got off his bike and strode up to the car. Bur when Bob looked up he was staring at what he later described as the most beautiful cop ever to straddle a Harley.

Jamie smiled to himself, eyes still closed, as he imagined Bob's first sight of the stern-faced Mark asking for his license and registration. He also imagined Bob's reaction when Mark made him exit the car, put his hands on the roof, spread his legs and submit to a pat-down – standard police procedure.

Jamie well knew that Mark was a strict by-the-book cop and had prepared to write him up for an illegal U-turn and driving under the influence. Jamie smiled as he imagined the gorgeous Bob pleading that there must be some way of settling this that avoided a citation.

Jamie stroked the bulge in his shorts as he remembered the story of how their eyes had met and Mark had led Bob through the bushes to a clearing where he had ordered him to slowly remove his jacket, tie, shirt and tank undershirt. Willing to do anything to avoid a DUI ticket Bob obeyed even when the cop ordered him to drop his pants and shorts.

The price of going free was to masturbate in front of the cop until his muscular body tensed and he sprayed jets of cum across the clearing. The mesmerized cop had gasped, stroked his own bulge and cum in his uniform pants. Then, in embarrassment, the cop walked away, got on his bike and roared away.

The postscript to the story was that Mark had forgotten to give back Bob's driver's license so he came to the house the next day to return it. Bob invited him into the house where Mark met Randy. And the rest was history. Mark had fallen in love with Bob (probably the minute he lowered the car window in the park) and, after several years of rivalry with Randy, had fallen in love with him too – the triumphant trio at the top of the tribe.

With a blissful smile on his face, his eyes still closed, Jamie was scarcely aware that he had pulled his rock hard cock out of his shorts and was stroking it, lost in the fantasy of the anxious business executive gazing up the blond cop and pleading for some way to avoid arrest.

"What the fuck ...?" The sudden stern voice seemed like part of the fantasy – until Jamie opened his eyes.

There he was – the very same blond cop who had almost arrested Bob. And he was just as severe as he had been that day in his black uniform, eyes hidden behind mirror sunglasses.

The shirt was open at the neck with a triangle of white T-shirt underneath, his biceps straining under the short sleeves. The contours of his muscular torso were etched under his shirt that slanted down from the wide shoulders over the flared lats and down to the belt round his slim waist. The black serge pants, silver stripe down the sides, were tucked into high, shiny motorcycle boots.

He whipped off his sunglasses and his blue-gray eyes pierced Jamie's. "What the fuck are you doing, boy? Sitting out here jerking off ... a gross act of public indecency. What are you, a piece of cheap trade waiting for a customer to come along and suck that thing sticking out of your shorts?"

Jamie leapt to his feet. Startled by Mark and still engrossed in the scene of the businessman and the cop, he could half believe this was real – (the best fantasies were the ones that feel real). Jamie lapsed into the fantasy and hurried to defend himself. "No, sir. I'm not a hustler, sir. I was just ... just thinking," he said lamely.

"Looked like more than that to me by the size of that boner. What were you thinking about, your girlfriend?"

"Er, no ... not exactly sir."

"OK that's it. You're on a charge of lewd conduct. You got any drugs on you?"

"No, sir, I don't do ..."

"Surfers can be big druggers. Hold your arms out to the sides."

Jamie obeyed and the cop patted him down. Jamie flashed on the image of Bob being patted down in the story – and now it was happening to him, in a small garden not unlike that clearing on the park. His heart beat wildly as Mark came close, reached behind him and ran his hands down his back, lingered over his butt, ran down his thighs then dug his fingers in his crotch.

"Hm, clean so far, but I gotta do a cavity search. Drop the shorts and grab your ankles."

Jamie unlaced his board shorts and let them drop round his ankles as the cop pulled on a latex glove. Jamie bent forward and grabbed his ankles as ordered, the cop walked behind him and pushed a finger in his ass, then two, then three. Jamie inhaled sharply as the fingers probing his ass almost made him cum.

Mark suddenly pulled out and Jamie straightened up and pulled up his board shorts. "OK, you're in the clear, boy, no drugs. But I still have to arrest you for lewd conduct." The cop unclipped handcuffs off his belt, pulled Jamie's arms them behind him and cuffed his wrists.

Jamie remembered Bob's plea for leniency and tried something similar. "Sir, if you charge me I'll get thrown out of college and it'll be tough for me to get a job with an arrest record."

"Should have considered that before you started jerking off, thinking about ... whatever you were thinking about."

"Sir, is there no other way we could deal with this? Isn't there anything I could do so's you'd let me go?"

Mark looked at the handsome young surfer, his tank draped loosely over his muscular torso, and the cop's own cock got stiff in his uniform pants. "Please, officer, I'll do anything," the young jock said plaintively, his blue eyes staring straight at the cop.

"Maybe there is," the cop said. "Get on your knees, boy." Jamie was now deep into the fantasy and obediently dropped to his knees in front of the police officer. His face was level with the bulge in the cop's pants and he watched mesmerized as he unzipped, pulled out his hard dick and pointed it at Jamie's face.

"Kid like you, you know what to do." Jamie's jaw sagged and the long thick shaft slid all the way down his throat. Of course, Jamie had sucked Mark's dick hundreds of times, but this was different as they both locked onto the fantasy of the young surfer forced to suck off the powerful cop to avoid an arrest.

The cop grabbed the surfer's tousled blond hair, pulled his head forward, then pushed it back, forcing his mouth down on his cock again and again. Instinctively Jamie pulled at his wrists cuffed behind his back wanting desperately to touch his own cock.

The cop held Jamie's head in a vise and his rod pistoned in his mouth. Was this punishment, or was the cop getting off on it? The answer came as he started to choke and the cop pulled out. "You get off sucking a cop's dick, boy?"

Jamie looked up at the square-jawed police officer and mumbled, "I ... I ... yes, sir. Is that it, sir? Can I go now?"

"Hell, no! Good looking kid like you? Cops have a saying – the hotter they are the more they pay. And you're gonna pay big, kid." Mark leaned down and un-cuffed one of Jamie's wrists. He pressed his boot on his chest and shoved him down on his back on the grass. His head was close to a tree and the cop pulled his arms up above his head, wrapped them round the tree trunk and re-cuffed his free wrist.

He stared down at the blond surfer, lying helpless on his back, arms stretched up, hands cuffed behind the tree. "Oh yeah," he growled, "you're gonna do just fine, boy."

Mark grabbed Jamie's shorts, pulled them down over his feet and flung them aside. Then he grabbed Jamie's tank top and yanked hard so it ripped right off. He paced round the blond surfer handcuffed naked to the tree and tossed the shredded tank on his bare chest. He stood over him, legs wide apart and stroked his cock, still standing rigid out of his pants.

"So, kid, you said you'd do anything to avoid getting arrested – that true?"

"Yes, officer."

"So you know what I'm gonna do to you, eh?"

"You're gonna fuck me in the butt, sir?

"Damn right. And I'm doing you a favor. Know what would happen to a hot young stud like you if I took you down to the station? Some of those cops down there can be real mean. Couple a' guys would hold you down while another one ploughs your ass. Then they'd switch and you'd get tag-teamed and spit roasted by all of them. When they'd had their fill gang fucking you they'd chain you naked to the bars of the cell, cum running from your ass and mouth, and leave you for the next shift of cops to take their turn. Could go on all night. That what you want?"

"No, sir, please, sir."

"So what do you want, boy?"

"I want you to fuck me, officer. I want to feel your dick in my ass ...please, sir."

"Man, there's nothing like watching a hot young jock beg to get his ass ploughed." The cop slowly unbuttoned his shirt, exposing the white T-shirt stretched over the slabs of his chest. He pulled the shirt out of his waistband and shrugged it off. Jamie gasped at the sight of the cop stripped down to his T-shirt, muscles clearly etched underneath, short sleeves pushed back from his biceps, part of the shirt hanging loose over the black belt round his tight waist.

Mark knelt between his legs and slapped Jamie's rock hard cock. "Damn, you really do want it, don't you boy? You get turned on by a horny cop?" He slapped it again, making Jamie howl.

"Nah, can't have that, boy. Gotta take care of the noise." He picked up the shreds of Jamie's tank, twisted it into a gag and tied it round his mouth. "No we're ready for business, stud. Lucky for you my cock's already wet from your spit."

The cop pushed his legs back and drove his cock in his ass in one long, hard thrust. Jamie's head flew back and he yelled into the gag, then stared up at the rugged cop as he began a long, steady fuck of his ass. The hard thrusts quickly changed into a slow massage of his ass, the kind of loving fuck Jamie was so used to.

The surfer longed to touch the muscular body rippling under the T-shirt, clinging damp with sweat now, but he was helpless, bound and stretched naked on the ground, so all he could do was gaze in awe. His desire increased and he gasped into his gag as the cop reared back on his knees, reached behind his own neck and pulled off the T-shirt. The cop looked magnificent, stripped to the waist, the muscles of his stunning body flexing as he fucked.

Many times Jamie could have cum, gazing up at the cop and feeling his cock moving in his ass, but Mark sensed this and always paused just in time. Mark too came close to his climax again and again, thrilled by the sight of the young blond jock lying gagged and bound beneath him. He had cum hundreds of times in that ass, but now he wanted something different.

Like Jamie, Mark too thought often of that long-ago scene in the park when he had made Bob strip and jerk off. He even suspected that Jamie might have been dreaming of that just now waiting for him. He was once again coming dangerously close to his orgasm and knew that Jamie was too ... when he suddenly pulled out of his ass and leapt to his feet.

Jamie was surprised ... disappointed and confused. Mark leaned down, untied the gag and unlocked one of the cuffs. He pulled a bewildered Jamie to his feet and said, "It'd be too easy to cum in your ass, boy. There's one more thing you have to do before I decide to let you go."

He pushed Jamie back against the tree, pulled one arm behind the tree, the one still wearing the handcuffs, and cuffed it to a small branch behind it. The right hand he left free. He walked away, turned and faced the boy, just as he had faced Bob that first time from across the clearing. Jamie inhaled sharply, knowing what was happening. This was a replay of the scene he had fantasized about so often.

Instinctively he stroked his cock with his free hand, gazing at the shirtless cop in his uniform pants and motorcycle boots. Mark was staring at him, at the naked jock standing against the tree, one hand cuffed behind him, the other curled round his cock.

Just as the naked business executive had been forced by the cop to ejaculate that day to avoid arrest, that's how Jamie came now. The fantasy was coming to an end and, as reality crept slowly back, Jamie realized that reality with Mark was even more exciting than any fantasy. It was the image of Mark he loved most, stripped to the waist in black uniform pants and boots.

He was not only the most beautiful cop he had ever seen, he was his master, Jamie was his boy, and they were in love. He gazed at Mark as the cop pounded his meat faster and faster, staring at Jamie with those steady blue-gray eyes. Just like that first time, the cop had got what he wanted – to see his handsome prisoner naked, jerking off looking at him and ... "aaaah!"

Twin streams of juice spurted toward each other and splashed on the grass as the cop and the boy shot their loads gazing at each other, just as Bob and Mark had stared at each other in disbelief that day.

When their cocks had pumped dry Mark walked up to the naked boy and unlocked the cuffs. He picked up his shirt and T-shirt and slung them over his shoulder. "OK, kid, I won't arrest you this time, you're free to go. Just don't let me catch you jerking off like that again ..."

Mark walked away and said over his shoulder, "... unless you're with me."

He went into the house and Jamie slumped back in his chair and closed his eyes. When he opened them again Mark was back, wearing just boxers, ready for bed. He smiled down at him and said, "Fucking beautiful, Jamie. Games with you are so damn hot. You're the perfect guy for me – and now we have a whole week together. Come on, buddy, let's go to bed."

Jamie got up, Mark threw his arm over his shoulder and as they walked inside Jamie said, "Just one thing you got wrong, sir. You said I was free to go, but that's not true. I'm as tied to you as I was cuffed to that tree."

"We're tied together, kiddo." Mark grinned, "Hmm, now there's an idea for a whole nother fantasy."

In the morning Mark and Jamie were still dozing in bed when there was a knock at the door.

It was the twins. "Sir," Kyle said, "we've just taken breakfast up to Bob and Randy and they were wondering if you two would care to join them." Kevin added, "There's enough for four."

They thanked the twins and Mark said to Jamie, "Not often those two invite company ... breakfast is usually their special time where they discuss issues of the day – or fuck – or both. That's why the twins usually serve breakfast in their room."

"Sir," Jamie grinned slyly, "I don't think you would ever be unwelcome up there – breakfast, discussions, sex, whatever – especially sex."

"Well this time it's strictly social, kiddo, `cos we got a trip to go on."

They pulled on shorts and T-shirts and a few minutes later knocked on the door to the master suite and went it. The twins had set the large table in the living room for breakfast and Bob and Randy were already eating. "Come in, come in," Bob smiled. "I know you two are eager to hit the road so this is just to make sure you're well fed before you leave.

After some small talk – mostly about the recent saga of Finn, Miguel and Pablo – Jamie said to Bob, `Sir, I wanted to make sure again that it's OK for me to take off from the office at such short notice. I don't like leaving you shorthanded like that, with no office manager."

Bob smiled, "Like I told Mark, Jamie, it's no problem at all. Your assistant Brandon seems to have everything under control. That kid always surprises me about how much he knows and how on top of things he always is."

After a slight hesitation Jamie said, "Sir, maybe now is not the time but there is something I've been meaning to bring up for a while now. You're right about Brandon. He works really hard, always there bright and early and always willing to work late when we're extra busy. He knows everything as well as I do and I don't think of him as my assistant anymore, more like a co-manager. For example, he does payroll and handles all personnel issues single-handedly."

"He's a great kid," Randy said enthusiastically. Brandon had always been a favorite of his. "He should get a raise."

"Er, I was thinking of a bit more than that, sir. I would like him to have a title, like ... associate office manager, and give all personnel stuff to him as the Human Resources Director for both the company and the household, with a corresponding pay raise. The company is so big now we should let him hire an assistant.

Bob smiled at Mark then at Jamie. "Funny thing, Jamie, but I've been thinking along exactly the same lines. I hadn't got as far as titles yet, but your suggestion seems perfect. I'll run it by Zack, as he's the only Company Director not here, but I'm sure he'll have no objection.

"Randy and I are having drinks with Pete and Brandon in their bungalow later to talk about all the moving ideas that are afoot that could involve them teaming up with Hassan and Eddie to buy Zack's house. I'll be happy to tell Brandon of your decision. Pete will be thrilled, I know."

Mark grinned. "As always, Bob, you seem to have everything planned out and under control. Hey, Randy, how do you ever keep this guy in check?"

"Oh, I have my methods," Randy grinned. "One thing he don't have control over is me, and he knows it." Mark might have disputed that but he kept quiet.

"Anyway," Bob grinned, "now you two are off for an way-overdue vacation at Uncle Mike's where I predict, Jamie, your personal skills will be called on again – to handle your pal Larry."

Jamie sighed. "Yeah, I've been on touch with him a lot lately – phone calls, texts – and I get the sense he has some major problems. It's not just that thing he had a while back where he upset Mike by fooling around with some guy. That was a tempest in a teapot, but I have a feeling this is something more serious."

"If anyone can get through to the guy, Jamie can," Mark said.

"Thank you, sir."

"Hey," Randy jumped in, "what's with this `sir' thing anyway between you two? I thought that now Jamie's the big hot stud you two were kind've equals, best buddies."

Jamie grinned. "We talked about that, sir, and I told Mark I wanted to carry on using `sir'. That's how I think of him – the big dominant cop – and I like it ... kinda sexy."

"I get that, Jamie," Bob said. "I remember the first and only time I called Mark sir – that time he pulled me over in the park and I pleaded with him not to arrest me for drunk driving."

Mark laughed. "Funny you should mention that, old buddy. Last night me and Jamie were kind of fantasizing and, well ..."

"Did it involve uniforms?" Bob smiled. Mark chuckled and Bob said, "You hear that, Randy? I think a certain young surfer got arrested last night and god knows what he had to do for the cop to get out of it."

"Yeah," Randy growled, "well if I'd been there it would have been a different story. I'd have worked over the cop and his boy – tied together."

Mark laughed, "You psychic or something, man? That's what we've been talking about – next thing on our fantasy list. Maybe when we get back you can do the honors."

"Happy to," Randy said with a roguish grin.

Half an hour later Jamie was sitting contentedly beside Mark in his truck as they drove east out of the city on the 10 Freeway headed for the desert. As usual on trips like this they rode the first few miles in comfortable silence, relishing their shoulder-to-shoulder proximity and savoring the prospect of a week together. But eventually Mark broke the silence.

"I'm real proud of the way you handled the subject of Brandon, Jamie. One thing I've learned as a cop is that burying your own ego is a good first step in becoming a leader of men. You have great leadership qualities."

"I wasn't aware of burying my ego or anything, sir. I love Brandon, who never lets his handicap get in the way and makes me forget he's even in a wheelchair. But mostly it's a question of merit. He's great at his job, a huge asset to the company, and deserves every penny he earns and more. I can see why Pete is so crazy about him.

"Randy too. Remember, sir, when Eddie first discovered the kid struggling to wheel himself up to the little apartment he lived in alone? He mentioned one word to Randy who went up there right away and installed those pull-down shelves he needed." [See Chapter 222]

"Yeah," Mark grinned, "and as I recall the only payment Randy wanted was a blowjob that Brandon was happy to provide. Brandon said later that the thing he loved about Randy – apart from the obvious – was the fact that the big gypsy didn't treat him with the usual kid-glove sympathy that most people did, which he always hated. Randy treated him almost like one of his crew – even yelled at him when Brandon dropped the shelves. He loved that.

"That's the thing about Randy. He may be the rough, tough fist-swinging gypsy a lot of the time but when it comes to the boys he can be as tender as a bear with his cubs. What he loves about Brandon is his guts, his independence, rising above every challenge that a boy in a wheelchair can face. I'm so glad Brandon's got you for a boss, kiddo. You're perfect for him – prefect for me, if it comes to that."

They lapsed into silence again, each with his own thoughts. Jamie glanced surreptitiously at Mark and smiled at the fact that he was wearing the black ribbed tank top that was Jamie's favorite and always turned him on. Mark had worn it the first time they ever took a trip together – even before Jamie could admit his attraction to the cop – and he had worn it every time since.

Jamie chuckled, "Do you think we're in a rut, sir?"

"Uh? What makes you say that?"

"Oh, I dunno ... like that black tank ... you wear it every time we go on a trip."

"Oh? Well, next time I'll wear something else. Will that get us out of the rut, d'ya think?"

"Don't you dare, sir, I love that shirt. I could cum just looking at you in that. And if we are in a rut, it's one I really like. I guess it's inevitable that when two guys have been together for a while they pick up habits and set routines – like every time you get home from work and I'm lying naked on the bed waiting for you."

"Yeah, well that routine ain't ever gonna change, boy, even if I have to tie you to the bed."

"Is that a promise, sir?"

Mark laughed. "You know, a guy can keep to a routine he likes but it's healthy to tweak it sometimes, do things just a bit different now and again."

"How do you mean, sir?"

"Well ... let's just say you'll know it when you see it." And Jamie had to be content with that.

A few miles further on they were nearing the halfway point of the trip – and they both know what that meant according to their usual routine. Jamie wondered if today would be any different and he held his breath as they approached the unobtrusive turn-off from the highway. For a moment Jamie thought Mark was going to drive straight past it but at the last minute he swerved over to the right and took the exit.

He turned and grinned at Jamie. "Just can't get out of that rut, dude."

From the small secondary road Mark took another turn-off onto a dirt track that lead into a seemingly empty expanse of desert scrub and sagebrush. But in the distance there was a stand of trees that somehow withstood the desert heat and wind, and that's where Mark headed, while Jamie's cock got hard in his shorts at the thought of what he knew would happen.

Mark stopped the truck behind the trees and when he turned off the engine there was a sudden silence broken only by the desert breeze rustling the trees and the monotonous chirp of cicadas.

They sat for a moment, alone in the middle of nowhere, then Mark smiled. "Can't get out of that rut, Jamie."

They got down from the truck, went to the back and Mark pulled down the tailgate, ready for the classic porn scene where the dominant man bodily picks up the younger guy, sits him on the tailgate, and pulls down his shorts. He shoves him back on the flat bed, raises his legs and fucks his ass. It was a scene they had played out many times.

Jamie was wearing board shorts as always and started to unlace them. But Mark stopped him. "Like I said, dude, it's good to tweak the routine once in a while."

Mark was wearing cargo shorts and sneakers, no socks, and of course the black ribbed tank. In a quick succession of moves he dropped the shorts, pulled himself onto the truck and lay on his back on the tarps spread over the flatbed. He reached up and out to the corners of the flatbed and grabbed the ropes tied to the rings used for tying down cargo.

Jamie gasped, staring down at the blond god with the chiseled Nordic features, butt naked except for unlaced sneakers and a black tank stretched over his muscular torso, spread-eagled on his back in the truck. Jamie dropped his own shorts, pulled off his shirt and climbed onto the truck. He stood astride Mark and gazed down at the erotic sight of the handsome near-naked cop. Only one thing was missing.

Jamie dropped to his knees straddling his chest, reached up to the corner of the flatbed and tied the rope round his wrist, then tied the other wrist. He pulled back on his knees and watched as Mark looked up at his wrists and tugged on them, his muscles rippling under the tank top.

"Oh Jesus," Jamie groaned. "Fucking hell." How many times he had thought he had never seen Mark look more gorgeous, and now here he was again staring down at `the most beautiful sight he had seen' – the stunning muscle-god in just a black tank tied down in a truck, his square-jawed face thrashing from side to side, tousled blond hair falling across his brow.

Jamie scooted back on his knees between Mark's legs and spat on his cock. He raised the captive's legs and spat on his ass, then eased his hips forward ... and drove his cock deep inside the helpless cop. Mark's howl was caught by the wind that carried it across the empty desert as his body writhed and his biceps bulged, pulling at the ropes binding him.

Jamie leaned forward and planted his palms on the stabs of Mark's chest, feeling his pecs flex under the thin fabric as he drove his cock in his ass. The cop who only yesterday had forced Jamie to submit to him, had made him suck his cock, had handcuffed him and butt-fucked him, was now lying helpless beneath him and getting his own ass ploughed.

"It's payback time, officer," Jamie growled. "The tough son-of-a-bitch cop is getting a taste of his own medicine, his ass pounded by the young jock he tried to arrest. Let's see how much you can take before you beg for release."

Jamie knew Mark could take a lot. He had been fucked by the biggest savage of them all, Randy, and taken a pounding before he submitted. So now Jamie turned up the heat, pile-driving the man's ass as he pressed down on his chest, pinning him to the floor of the truck.

But Mark took it all. "Fuck you, boy. You think you can beat me, make me beg? Think again kid. You're pretty tough but you'll never make me cum, you'll never hear me beg to a kid like you. Do your worst, asshole. Let's see what you got."

So Jamie really opened up, pulling his cock all the way back, then plunging in deep – deeper each time. His shaft was a piston driving into the cop's ass and he watched the pain in his face as his head thrashed from side to side and his muscles flexed against the attack on his ass.

It was a major fantasy for Jamie, watching this macho icon of power and authority now a prisoner, suffering the pain and humiliation of getting his ass reamed by a boy. The sight of the muscle-god straining beneath him drove Jamie wild. "Feel that rod in your ass, officer? You can't take any more, man, you know you've gotta give up, you've gotta cum and beg me to stop. Submit, man ... bust that load ... yeah, fuck ... fuck ... cum ... aaagh!"

The howl was Jamie's as his cock exploded in the cop's ass.

For a moment Jamie was dazed as his cock drained. He blinked, then opened his eyes and saw Mark smiling up at him. Mark's cock was dry as a bone ... no trace of jizz on the black tank. He had not cum ... he had won.

Or maybe not ...

Jamie looked down at Mark's long cock standing up as proud and defiant as a flagpole, challenging him. And Jamie knew how to rise to the challenge, with a surefire weapon he used daily – or rather Mark used daily."

"Think you're so tough don't you?" Jamie scoffed. "Here's something even you can't beat."

He moved forward on his knees until he was straddling Mark's waist. He spat on his hand, reached behind him and shoved wet fingers in his own ass. He locked eyes with Mark, with a sardonic smile ... and lowered his ass down slowly until the hole made contact with the head of Mark's cock.

Mark inhaled sharply knowing what he would feel next – the same exquisite sensation he thought about every day and got to experience when he came home to find his boy naked on the bed. He gazed up at the surfer's tanned, handsome face and ripped body and felt his cock being slowly wrapped in the velvet warmth of his ass that sank lower and lower until Jamie was sitting on his cock buried deep inside him.

Jamie smiled down at him, then rose slowly, inch by inch, and paused at the top, massaging the head with his tight ass before descending again. He repeated that erotic process again and again until he knew Mark was on the verge of orgasm. Then he stopped, let Mark's lust subside, and began over.

"Ever heard of edging, officer – bringing a man to the edge of his climax, then denying him? It can drive a man wild, make him beg for release. And if it's a hot young jock's ass doing it to a man's cock, wow. `Course, if the man is tied down there's not much he can do – except suffer."

And so Jamie rode the cop's shaft and tormented him in the way he knew best. He knew Mark could never resist his ass – had no defenses against it. Jamie brought him to the edge of orgasm again and again and Mark groaned, "I'm gonna cum ... I'm gonna cum ... yeah ..." only to writhe in frustration. "No! I gotta cum ... fuck you boy ... fuck you."

"You already are fucking me, officer," Jamie smiled, "but it ain't doing you much good." He leaned forward, braced his hands on Mark's biceps and pinned them to the tarp on the truck's floor. He bent his head, brushed his lips on Mark's mouth, then kissed him hard.

He pulled back and smiled. "Welcome to defeat, officer. The big tough cop is gonna learn how to beg." Still bracing his hands on Mark's biceps he lowered his ass on his cock again and gave it the same tantalizing treatment. He knew Mark so well. After years of experience he knew exactly when he was about to cum in his ass. And he used that knowledge now to his advantage ... and to Mark's exquisite frustration.

"You know you can't take much more of this, officer. Here, you wanna cum ...? He rode his cock then stopped. "... Nah, I don't think so ..."

Mark knew he couldn't survive this. Whenever he fucked Jamie he was in total control, built to his climax and shot his load when he chose to. But now he was being driven wild with desire. "OK, boy, you win ... now let me cum."

Jamie chuckled. "Oh that ain't gonna do it, man. You gotta do better than that. Like I told you, I love to hear a macho top man beg. And you're gonna beg, officer ... you're gonna beg the young jock who you arrested and who's now torturing your dick by riding it."

Jamie raised his hips and, and in a series of short movements, his tight sphincter massaged the hard, sensitive corona of Mark's cock, but repeatedly denied him release. Mark's magnificent body flexed and strained, his cock was on fire and he groaned, "OK, I give up ... I wanna cum so bad ... please ... let me cum ... I beg you ... please, sir, I'm begging you ... I submit ... I beg you, sir ... aaagh!"

Jamie sat down hard on Mark's cock that erupted at last in Jamie's ass as his body convulsed, head thrashing wildly from side to side. It was too much for Jamie. Hearing the handsome cop begging in desperation, watching his muscular body writhe in bondage, Jamie grabbed his own cock, pointed it down at Mark and pumped another load of cum over his face and all over the black tank top, which had never looked sexier than it did now.

He rose up off Mark's shuddering cock, quickly untied Mark's wrists and fell forward on top of him. Mark folded his arms round him and they lay together in the truck as their heartbeats subsided while the unseen cicadas continued their staccato noise.

Jamie raised his head and smiled at Mark. "Is that what you call tweaking the routine, sir?"

"It's what a call a spectacular fuck, dude. So let's hear no more about being a rut."

"Yes, officer. You're the boss – most of the time."

"Fuck you, kid," Mark chuckled as they climbed down off the truck and pulled on their shorts.

As they sped down the freeway toward the Palm Springs exit Jamie said, "Sir, last night and this morning we've had a whole lot of sex. D'you think the whole week's gonna be like that?"

Mark laughed. "Would you mind?" Then more seriously, "But I have a feeling you're gonna be busy checking on your pal Larry. You say you two had a lot of phone contact lately? What's his problem? Does he sound depressed?"

"No, sir, the opposite, actually. Sounds excited about something, can't stop talking ... but ..." He trailed off, not wanting to voice his suspicions, fearing how Mark would react.

At last they drove through Palm Springs and pulled up at the gates of Uncle Mike's spacious home. Mike was a still-hot-looking middle-aged man who had seen and done it all as the owner of the most popular leather bar in the city for many years. He had become popular with the tribe, especially Randy who looked up to him, the only man who called Randy `boy'.

The tribe had adopted the name of `Uncle' Mike when he first told them of his reclusive young nephew Brian, living a lonely wheelchair existence in a moldering trailer park way out in the desert. It was Brandon who had rescued the boy, convincing him by example that a wheelchair need not be an impediment to a full and rewarding life. Brian discovered this spectacularly when he wound up as the much loved boy of the movie-star Grady, the big-screen Tarzan.

Not long after that Larry had shown up. He and Jamie had once been a pair of skinheads running wild on the streets until they ran up against the tribe. Mark had glimpsed some good in Jamie and had taken him on as his boy. Larry had gone back to an abusive family in St. Louis where he had spent several miserable years until, bitter and resentful, he had run away to California and sought out his only friend, his old pal Jamie.

Luck was on his side as Mike had been visiting the tribe and, despite the big difference in their ages, they had struck up an improbable May/October relationship and fallen in love. They now lived a comfortable life in Mike's house, both working in the bar, and Larry running his small, motorcycle repair business during the day. All had gone well, except for one bad patch where Larry had had a brief fling with a younger fuck buddy.

That had been resolved, so Mark wondered what could be happening now. As a cop he had seen many instances of the old saying, `you can take the boy off the streets but you can't take the street out of the boy'. He knew only too well that you could pluck out a toxic plant but often the bad seed lay buried deep, waiting to break the surface when least expected.

But those gloomy thoughts vanished when the gate opened and Mike came out to greet them with his broad avuncular smile. "Shit damn, officer, what is it about you that makes you look sexier every time I see you? Something in the water is it? If so, man, I'd like a sip of that."

They shook hands and Jamie ran round from the passenger side. "Come here you hunky young buck and give your old uncle a thrill." Mike hugged Jamie tight, then pulled back and looked at them, especially at Mark's tank top smothered in dry cum. "Uh-uh, at a rough guess I'd say you two made a pit stop on the way here, the kind you're famous for. What, did the mean cop arrest you and fuck you, Jamie."

"Well, not exactly, sir," Jamie grinned. "Er, is Larry home?"

They saw Mike's face cloud over. "Yeah, he's in his room, Jamie. He'll be pleased to see you. He's ... er ... well, you're an old buddy. You're probably just what he needs right now."

Jamie ran into the house and found Larry in his room sitting on the bed. He shot up when Jamie came in, ran over to him and hugged him – a little too tight for comfort.

"Hey," Jamie said, "what's up, dude? You seem real stoked ... what's got you all wound up?"

"Ah, nothing special, bro. Just high on life I guess. Listen, I was about to make a run out to Hassan's little old house way out there in the desert. You know Mike and me keep an eye on it for him. Wanna come? I'm parked out back, through the garden."

"Sure," Jamie said. "Give us a chance to talk ... catch up. I'll just go tell Mark."

Jamie had a good idea what the problem was but wanted to make sure before he discussed it with Mark and Mike. He went back out to the gate and said, "Sir, is it all right if I go out with Larry for a while? Do you want help unloading our gear?'

"Two bags?" Mark grinned. "I think I can handle those myself, though I'm still a bit weak after that pit stop. Go have fun with your buddy."

Mike frowned and made a move to say something but Jamie was gone, through the garden and out the back gate where Larry was waiting in his truck.

As they drove out into the desert Larry talked non-stop, a stream of consciousness. He was fidgety and when he wasn't talking he was grinding his teeth. Jamie was sure now.

"Larry ..." he interrupted. "Larry, listen to me. Are you tweaking? You on speed? Crystal meth is it?"

"Oh not really. I'm clean now – been clean for four days. But me and a guy in the bar do it sometimes and it sure makes you focus like hell. Makes cleaning up the bar a breeze... I go through all that shit like a tornado. And dude, you should try it for watching porn. I can jack off for hours, it's unbelievable. So what if I can't get a hard-on. This is, like, real cerebral."

As he droned on Jamie wasn't sure what to do or say. He himself had had a brief run in with meth when he fell in with the wrong crowd at the beach. Mark had discovered him and almost threw him out. The prospect of life without Mark made Jamie come to his senses real fast and he had begged for forgiveness. He now hated the stuff as much as Mark did who, as a cop, saw its evil effects on the streets every day."

"Larry, this is not good, dude," Jamie said, realizing instantly how lame that sounded. "Er, does Mike know?"

"Nah, can't tell him, he'd throw me out on my ear. That's why it's so good that you're here, dude. We can party together – just like old times, uh? And no need to tell Mark, eh? Just between you and me?"

For a second Jamie thought of making him stop the truck so he could get out and run back to Mark. But he knew he would not be able to reason with Larry, and besides, he genuinely wanted to help him. "What about Larry's Bikes, that motorbike repair shop you started?'

"Ah, that's kind of on hold right now. I'm having too much fun, dude." Jamie gave up for now. Maybe he could reason with Larry when they got to Hassan's place.

So Larry chattered on until they saw Hassan's small house sitting in the distant haze of the dunes. Larry pulled off the road and bumped along the long sandy trail to the old, sun-bleached house sitting forlornly in the middle of nowhere. They got out, Larry fished the key from his pocket and they went into the cool darkness, blinking hard after the glare of the sun outside.

"Let's go down to Hassan's basement." Larry led a hesitant Jamie down the stairs to the dark mirrored basement, a gym-cum-playroom where many fantasies had been played out, especially by Hassan and Mark. "Man, I'd love to watch the Marine and the cop work each other over like they do sometimes. Hell, they'd have a lot more fun on crystal, don't ya think?" he laughed. "They'd go for days. Maybe I'll score some for them. Then I'll do some lines, jerk off watching them have sex and lose all track of time."

"Larry, stop. You know how Mark feels about that stuff. Dude, I hate to see you like this. Let's just sit down, try to relax and talk it through."

"OK, bro, but let's do this first. Reason we came out here is `cos I keep my stash here." He went to a small bag hidden in the corner and in a few minutes had four lines of the white powder on the table. He rolled up a dollar bill and snorted two lines, then handed the bill to Jamie.

"No, Larry, I never touch that stuff. I know what it can do to a guy."

"OK, dude, all the more for me," and Larry snorted the other two lines.

"Larry, please, let's get out of here and go back to Mike's. The guy loves you for god's sake."

"OK, but we gotta make a stop on the way at my dealer's. Gotta replenish my supply."

Jamie had had enough. He jumped to his feet and said, "Larry, I'm your buddy and I can't watch you do this to yourself. I gotta make you stop. You're obviously not gonna listen to me or even Mike, so maybe Mark can knock some sense into you."

Larry leapt up and confronted Jamie, his wild, dilated eyes only inches away. "The fuck he will. That sanctimonious cop would only bust me, butt-fuck me and throw my ass in jail. And you're just like him – all high and mighty, like your own shit don't stink. You were my buddy when we used to run together on the streets and now you won't even let me have a little fun. Oh yeah, living with your gorgeous cop, mister big-shot office manager or whatever the hell you call yourself, while I'm stuck out here in the fucking desert. I gotta do something for fun."

He poked Jamie in the chest. "So listen to me, asshole, I got a good thing going here and you ain't gonna fuck it up."

"Well I sure as hell am not gonna go with you to your fucking dealer, Larry."

"Damn right you're not, `cos you'd get your cop to bust him too and then the shit would really hit the fan. No, asshole, you're not going anywhere." He took a swing at Jamie and in seconds they were grappling on the floor. Larry had the unnatural strength of a guy high on meth, with no impulse control, while Jamie merely tried to protect himself. They were in a clinch, headed for the wall when Larry grabbed Jamie's head and banged his forehead against the mirror.

Stunned, Jamie sank to his knees and went limp. He was dimly aware of being dragged across the floor and his hands being pulled behind him. It was some minutes before his head cleared and he found himself sitting with his back against one of the upright support beams, his hands tied behind it. Instinctively he yanked at the ropes but realized they were bound tight.

"Yeah," the voice sneered, "ironic ain't it? Your buddy Randy once taught me all about knots and tying ropes. Bet he never thought I'd be using it on the cop's boy."

"Larry, please, you're only making this ten times worse. When Mark finds out how you ..."

"Yeah, well maybe he won't find out `cos I won't tell him. I gotta think this through."

He frowned, suddenly his shoulders slumped and he became plaintive. "Jamie, we were such good buddies, I loved you dude, like a brother. But we've turned out different – like one good brother and one who's just plain bad. But don't ya see? I need this meth shit to make me feel good, and I can't go back to prison, dude. So I can't let you fuck everything up, Jamie."

His voice grew soft as he reached down and felt Jamie's forehead. "You OK, dude? I didn't mean to hurt you, buddy ... and I didn't mean those things I said about you and Mark. You're a good guy, Jamie, and so is Mark and I'm real glad you've got such a good life together. But Mark's still a cop, and cops think only one way. I'm real sorry about all this, but don't worry, dude, I'll come back and set you free once my head's cleared a bit. It won't take long."

He kissed him on the head, then walked to the door. He turned and there were tears in his eyes as he said, "I love you, dude, I really do. I hope you can believe that." And he was gone. Jamie heard the car door slam, the truck roared away and left only silence

Jamie eyes brimmed with tears too, and not from fear. In the last few minutes he had seen into Larry's soul and he felt desperately sorry for him. He was in danger of losing his lover, home, business and friends.

They had been buddies, good buddies, and they probably still were somewhere in this wreckage. Fate was scary. Strange that he'd had the luck to be the good brother, thanks to Mark, while Larry had that bad-brother seed growing inside him despite the love of a good man like Mike. There but for the grace of God, Jamie thought.

But Larry had been right about one thing. Mark was a cop and Jamie knew exactly how harshly he would react. What a mess. Jamie looked around the room that suddenly looked so sinister, then smiled ruefully. At least Larry had left the lights on.

At Mike's house Mark was starting to get anxious. "They've been gone a long time, Mike. Where do you think they went?"

"Not sure," Mike shrugged. "These days I'm not sure about anything. Except one thing, Mark. I'm pretty sure I know what the problem is with Larry. Drugs. God knows after all these years out here I can recognize the signs. Just when things were going so well, too. We were as much in love as ever, he worked hard and had repaid all the money I put up for his bike repair shop.

"But he's different with me now, and he's neglecting his business – could lose it. I've tried to reason with him but he just threatens to run away and that would be a whole lot worse for him. I can't throw him out, Mark, I love him so much. I'm not getting any younger and this kid is probably my last best hope for love. I'm scared of losing him, Mark, and I was pinning my hopes on Jamie, a friend his own age who knows him so well. Maybe he can connect with Larry."

Just then they heard a car door slam outside and in a few seconds Larry came in. He looked wild, hair all over the place, eyes dilated, grinding his teeth. "Larry," Mark said. "Where's Jamie. Is he with you?"

"No he's not," Larry growled and went through to his room.

Mark's body tensed. "Mike, the boy's as high as a fucking kite." He got up and strode after him, followed by Mike. Larry sat on his bed with his back to them and Mark shouted, "Answer me boy. Where the hell is Jamie? What's happened to him?"

Mark clenched his fists and Mike's eyes filled with tears.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 415

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 own Web-site www.atrialofstrength.com. You can read the whole story, with extras including pictures and biographies of all the characters.

AND DON'T FORGET – IF YOU ENJOY THESE STORIES, PLEASE DONATE to the Nifty site. Nifty needs your donations to provide these thousands of wonderful stories. So please, back-arrow to the NIFTY home page and click on "DONATE" at the top. Please give what you can - the other authors and I thank you. ... Rob