A TRIAL OF STRENGTH – PART 460 By Rob Williams
Chapter 460 – "A COP'S PENANCE – FORCED TO WATCH"
IN THIS CHAPTER
The Marine Hassan delivers the punishment Mark craves. "Now that is a pornographic sight. A muscular cop shirtless in chains, his body like it's stretched on a rack. And facing him is his boy, a beautiful, naked young jock, also helpless in chains. One is gonna watch the other submit to the lust of the Arab soldier. Let's see now. Which one is it to be? The boy I think – while his master watches." ___________________________________________________________________
*********** IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER ***********
Mark was finally emerging from a severe bout of depression and burnout.
As a motorcycle cop, like many police officers, the pressure and stresses of the job sometimes caught up with Mark and rage and resentment at the world overwhelmed him. The effect impacted all those around him in the tribe but most particularly his boy Jamie, the beautiful young California surfer who worshipped the handsome blond cop.
Mark naturally sought psychological help from another member of the tribe, the therapist Doctor Steve who told him, "What troubles me, Mark, is the effect of all this on Jamie. You and I both know that when cops experience a burnout like this it's often the family that suffers most.
Mark sighed, "Yeah, you're right, Steve. But ... I dunno, I'm so wrapped up in myself, with my libido at zero, that I don't have time for Jamie right now. In bed I just turn my back on him. I know that sounds cold but ... I dunno ... I don't know how to love him anymore, or to show that I love him. He's a good guy and all, but ... it's like I don't even see him the way I used to."
Steve pointed out that in such cases an inability to feel or express affection was common, and he suggested that Mark take Jamie out of town for a few days – change of scenery, change of atmosphere where they could both take a deep breath and relax.
He suggested that Mark call the oldest member of the tribe, Uncle Mike, a still-handsome in-shape man in his late fifties who lived with his boy Larry in a ranch-style house in Palm Springs.
Steve's prescription did the trick. Mike and Larry welcomed Mark and Jamie with open arms and gave them the space and comfort to work through Mark's problem. Which they did in bed.
That night Mark still turned his back on Jamie but the boy made a stealth attack on the cold-shouldering cop. Gently he reached out to touch Mark who, still half asleep, achieved his first erection in two weeks. Jamie followed through, sucked Mark's cock and joyfully drank his jizz.
But a deep freeze doesn't thaw that quickly and it took the loving example of Mike and Larry to finally make Mark see the light. Next afternoon the two boys, Jamie and Larry, were lying on their backs sunning themselves by the pool when Mike and Mark came up and Mike couldn't resist his boy Larry's ass. While the high spirited Mike got to work, Mark looked down at Jamie, the clouds lifted and finally, at long last, he made love to him.
After they all climaxed Mike and Larry slipped away and left the two reunited lovers alone. They lay in each other's arms for a long time, kissing, licking nibbling. The magic was back.
Jamie was in heaven, but as the joy of being together washed over them Mark felt something else – guilt. How could he have turned his back on all this – turned cold to this glorious boy and caused him so much pain? He had to absolve his guilt – it was a matter of honor.
He said softly in Jamie's ear, "Jamie, I love you and yet I treated you so badly. You're my boy and I let you down. I have to make amends."
"Sir there's no need. I'm happy just to be here with you again."
"But there's something I have to do, Jamie, while we're here in the desert. You know Hassan's little hideaway house way out in the desert a few miles from here?"
"The one with the dungeon, sir?" Like everyone else in the tribe Jamie had heard of the times when Mark and Hassan had gone out to that house and reenacted a scene from long ago. That distant painful scene had occurred when Hassan first met Mark, soldiers on opposite sides in a desert war, and had interrogated him in a remote cell.
"That's the one, Jamie. Well in the next day or so I'm going to take you out there and ... and try to absolve my guilt and make amends to you."
What Mark didn't know was that task was to be made more dramatic by a phone call Mike had recently received.
"Hey, Mike, it's Hassan. Yeah, great thanks. Listen buddy I'm on my way out to the Marine Base at Twentynine Palms for one of those training sessions we have every couple of months. As it's only just over an hour from you I thought I'd drop in when our maneuvers are over, if that's convenient.
Mike chuckled, "A visit from the most gorgeous captain in the Marine Corps? Hell yes. Man I can cream my jeans just looking at you." A thought occurred to him. "As a matter of fact your presence here might be exactly what's needed right about now." He laughed. "I'll explain when you get here, captain. But I promise you'll go for it – guaranteed."
********************* CHAPTER 460 *********************
MIKE & LARRY GIVE THE ACTION A NUDGE
When Mike and Larry came into the house, leaving Mark and Jamie to enjoy the bliss of their reunion, Larry said, "Wow that was something, eh sir? I guess we played a part in it too, didn't we, giving them an example to follow of a great fuck? Anyway, I'm glad for Mark and my pal Jamie that it's all over."
"Yeah, you're right, Larry, we did kinda launch the reconciliation, though that was not my intention." He grinned roguishly. "I just saw a great piece of ass and went for it."
Larry laughed, "Yeah you always did go for the gold, sir." Larry loved times like this, post sex, when he curled up with his older and wiser lover and learned from him, like a pupil at the feet of the master. And he was about to get a lesson right now.
"But you're wrong about one thing, kiddo, when you say it's all over. See, what Mark's been through was a serious bout of anger and resentment toward the world that spilled over in his cold attitude to Jamie. The boy really suffered through the whole episode and Mark knows he caused it. Mark may be the tough, by-the-book cop but he's got his soft side, especially when it comes to Jamie.
"He worships the boy and is sworn to protect him and what did he do? Turned his back on him, literally, and treated him as if he no longer existed, which in Mark's troubled mind he didn't for a while. That must be a devastating memory for Mark."
"Yeah but that's not really fair, sir, is it? I mean, in a way Mark was ill, his mind was all fucked up so he couldn't help it. He shouldn't be feeling guilty."
"You're right, Larry, and if we and the world could learn to treat temporary mental illness with the compassion it deserves there would be no issue. But Mark doesn't give himself that excuse and the guilt he feels for the way he treated Jamie is enormous. He has to do something to show Jamie and the tribe – and himself too – how bad he feels."
"I get what you mean, sir. It's like that rule the tribe always talks about – if a man fucks up bad he gets punished – it's like a badge of honor."
"Very good, kid," Mike grinned. "You're getting real smart – almost too cool for school. But when you talk about a man fucking up bad, there is nothing worse than abusing your own boy."
"So what do you think's gonna happen, sir?"
"Ah, well that's where it gets interesting. See, Mark will have to ... kinda ... humble himself to Jamie, perform some kind of penance. And there's a little twist there that I didn't see coming. I just got a call from Hassan, remember him?"
"Duh! How could I forget that hunk? He's every boy's porn fantasy – big Marine with that handsome Arab face you could jerk off to – or preferably on – and built like a brick shithouse. Hey, is he coming to visit?"
"Right the first time, Larry. Now, stay with me here. Everyone knows that wild story of how Hassan and Mark first met years ago during that Mid-East war. They were soldiers on opposite sides and Hassan captured Mark, chained him up in a remote cell in the desert and interrogated him. And you know the weird part of that, don't you?"
"Sure, they damn well fell in love with each other. I never did get that."
"Well, stuff like that even has a name, `Stockholm syndrome', after a hostage situation in Sweden where the hostage fell for the captor. Anyway, so years later Hassan came to this country and with his Arab language skills joined the U.S. Marines. But he really came halfway round the world to find Mark. It's actually a great love story.
"Hassan was always the loner type and when he came to this country he got himself that little hideaway house way out in the desert a few miles from here, as far from civilization as possible. And of course you know what happened next."
"Duh, doesn't everyone? Hassan and Mark occasionally meet up out there and re-enact that desert scene, with one or other of then chained to the wall. I guess they get off on replaying the scene that made them fall in love in that incredible way." Larry paused and frowned. "But, er, what does all this have to do with Mark and Jamie?"
"Ah, that's the big question, kiddo. Could be nothing at all, of course, but I have a hunch that little house out there will play an important part."
Larry grinned, "Hey, how about your rule on not getting involved in another couple's problems?"
"Oh I'm not gonna be involved," Mike laughed. "But from time to time you have to give things a little nudge. Gotta keep the action going or we don't have a story."
"ANY IDEAS, MIKE?"
A short while later Mark and Jamie came in, having disentangled themselves from each other's arms and pulled on their shorts.
Mike smiled up at them. "Now that's the glow we like to see – the universal sign of a great fuck, with a lot of love and a little lust thrown in for good measure."
"A lot of lust, I'd say," Larry grinned. "I'd know that look on my buddy's face anywhere. Come here you hunky California surfer and give your old pal a hug."
They hugged tightly and Jamie said, "We gotta thank you for that, dude. Watching you two go at it was enough to turn on any red-blooded male. Made us realize what we've been missing all these weeks."
"Damn straight," Mark agreed. "And it ain't just a flash in the pan ... this is for keeps, Mike."
"Tell me about it," Mike chuckled. "I've been around the block many times in my life and I know the real thing when I see it. You two always were a match made in heaven – the kind of heaven where men fuck. And now, if you two can keep your hands off each other for a while, how about I take us all out to an early dinner at that restaurant owned by an old buddy of mine?"
Talk of food made them all realize how hungry they were. "Can't go like this, though," Mark said. "Come on, let's wash the jizz off in the pool." That started a frenzied session in the pool with so much splashing it resembled a piranha pool, the surface churning with thrashing limbs.
Mike sat benignly watching from a poolside chair nursing a beer. This was the life, he thought – sitting in the warm sun in his own home watching three gorgeous men frolicking in his pool after a four-way love fest with his own boy Larry and two of their best friends. Sex on a hot afternoon – hard to beat, he grinned to himself.
When they had worked up an even more voracious appetite they showered and Mike assured them that the restaurant patio was a casual come-as-you-are place so they wore cargo shorts or jeans and Jamie his usual board shorts. Jamie and Larry wore loose T-shirts and Mike a polo shirt. Much to Jamie's delight, Mark wore the ribbed black tank top that Jamie loved so much, which Mark had thrown into his backpack at the last minute before leaving town yesterday.
"Not too casual, Mike?" Mark asked. "I can put a shirt on over it."
"Don't you dare. It's perfect for patio dining at this place if you don't mind all the other guys there drooling into their dinners. Hell, boy, don't you ever get tired of people staring at you and mentally undressing you?"
"Never think about it, Mike"
"He doesn't either," Jamie said. "'Course, I think about it all the time and drool too. Only difference with me is that when we get home I really do get to undress him, then he fucks me."
The restaurant was close enough for them to walk to in the balmy desert air as the sun set over the San Jacinto Mountains. The high spirited boys walked on ahead, chattering like high schoolers while the conversation between Mark and Mike was rather more somber.
"'Course, you know I haven't got all this out my system yet, don't you Mike?"
"OK, so let me guess. In a word – guilt. How am I doing?"
"Spot on, Mike. You do know a lot about guys, don't you?"
"Especially guys like you, buddy – you know, tough, macho guys – and it don't get much more macho than a cop. Like any of us, Mark, cops make mistakes, but some of them blame themselves more than ordinary mortals do. And they welcome the reprimand, the hauling over the coals to help them shed the guilt. I'm guessing that's what you're going through right now."
"Dude, I gotta show Jamie how sorry I am for the way I shoved him out of my life for a few weeks. I made him suffer real bad and now it's like I have to suffer too and let him see me suffer. Sounds weird, right? But I gotta get this demon guilt off my back before things can be a hundred percent between us."
"I do get it, Mark. Any idea how you're gonna do that?"
"Well, it's obvious I'm not gonna suffer at your house. That place is an oasis, a place to mellow out. But there is one place that has seen its share of suffering – real and make-believe. It's tailor-made for it – chains and all."
"You're speaking of Hassan's place of course. I thought that's where your mind might be going."
"I haven't worked it all out yet. Problem is, I want Jamie to see me suffer but I don't wanna make him suffer more than he has. It's kind of a Gordian knot – I just gotta find the right string to pull to unravel it." Mark grinned. "Any ideas Mike?"
"Believe it or not I kind of do. Not that I'm gonna share it with you. My rule is never to get involved in other guys' relationship problems – I'm already way too deep in this one. But I will say this. I think Hassan's old house is the right place to stage this penance of yours, and I also think you'll find things turn out well so you can put a lid on all this stuff for good and get on with your life with that beautiful boy of yours."
"From your mouth to God's ear, buddy. Thanks for the optimism."
"You know that Larry and I keep an eye on the place for Hassan, pay the utilities and so on, so I'll give you the key and you go out there when you're ready."
Mike had deliberately not mentioned Hassan's impending visit – he would keep that under wraps. But he intended to have a quiet word with the Marine when he arrived. Not getting involved, he told himself. Just a gentle nudge here and there – push the boat out and then let the guys themselves take the oars.
THE MARINE CAPTAIN
For the next few days Mike's house was how Mark had described it – an oasis of serenity where the guys mellowed out. From time to time Mike had to go and take care of his leather bar and Larry went off to his motorcycle repair workshop, leaving the cop and his surfer to make love.
If Jamie detected the slightest remnants of discomfort in Mark it did not taint the harmony of their time together. Jamie, correctly, put it down to Mark's lingering guilt and knew that Mark would soon take care of that one way or another.
A couple of times Jamie accompanied his pal Larry to the workshop, leaving Mark alone to ponder their visit to Hassan's house. As he lazed in the sun he still couldn't quite find the end of the thread to unravel his Gordian knot. He wondered why Uncle Mike had been so sure that things would work out for them. Seems Mike knew something he wouldn't share with him, but why? Ah, never mind. He was back with Jamie and that's all that mattered.
It was a couple of days later that Mark decided to put an end to the lingering cloud that hung over him. Time to take Jamie out to the desert. Mike gave him the key, saying, "Great timing, Mark. It'll work out well."
Strange words to use, Mark thought. What did he mean? Ah well, his focus now had to be on Jamie so he hugged his boy tight, threw a bulging backpack into the truck and they drove off.
Actually Mike had been monitoring the timing carefully. It was tricky. He wanted Hassan to get here as soon as possible after Mark and Jamie left. He had been in touch with Hassan at the Twentynine Palms Marine Base where his maneuvers were winding down and with some artful nudging and a degree of luck it worked. Only twenty minutes after the guys had left Mike's house, Hassan arrived in his jeep.
Mike was sitting at a table outdoors under a tree compiling a long list of supplies he needed to order for the bar. He heard the jeep pull up, saw the gate open and Hassan strode in."
"Holy fuck," Mike said. "OK, Captain, stop right there and hold it while I jerk off looking at you."
Hassan's chiseled exotic Arab/Asian features broke into a gleaming smile as he stopped and held his arms out to the side with languorous panache. He truly was a homoerotic sight – as his boy Eddie often boasted, "straight out of a porn movie."
At Mike's urging Hassan had not stopped to clean up at the base after the maneuvers, so the tall muscular Marine was still in his warrior gear – combat boots and camouflage fatigues, cinched at his slim waist by a heavy belt. He wore a khaki tank top damp with patches of sweat, and over that a sleeveless brown denim shirt streaked with dirt and grease. He had on mirror sunglasses and his cheeks still bore three black camouflage stripes.
Mike put on his glasses, gazed at him in silent awe and stroked the growing bulge in his jeans. Then he grinned, "OK, we'll postpone the jackoff for now. More fun doing it when you're not watching. I'll settle for a hug right now."
Hassan chuckled, took off his sunglasses and enveloped Mike in a crushing bear hug. When Hassan freed him Mike playfully licked his neck, his chest and even his armpit, like an eager old dog greeting his master. "What can I get you, Captain – apart from a blow job, I mean?"
"I could murder a beer, Mike. Desert maneuvers are thirsty work, they put us through the wringer. Still got sand in my mouth."
"Coming right up, sir." Mike pulled a beer from a cooler beside him and handed it to Hassan.
They sat down at the table and Mike grinned. "Aren't most of those young Marines in love with their captain?"
Hassan shrugged, with a faint blush. "I get a few looks."
"I bet you do. Damn I would pay you big bucks to stand in my bar for a half-hour and I'd charge the customers just to look at you ... pay extra for a touch. I could sell tickets, have them lining up round the block."
Hassan roared with laughter. "Still full of the old blarney, Mike. You sure you're not Irish?"
"My parentage is somewhat murky, buddy, but I think there's Irish blood in there somewhere. I like to think of my daddy as one of those big Irish dock workers you read about. But how about you, stud? How long can you stay with us?"
"Well, I have a week off but I gotta get back to my boy Eddie. I miss him real bad."
"He's a great kid."
"He sure is. People used to think he was a bit lightweight – you know prattling on the way he does. But he's changed a lot since Bob made him a senior boy and house manager. It's boosted his self-esteem and he works really hard.
"I tell you, Mike, there's nothing I like better than getting home horny as hell after a day with Marines, and he's waiting for me. He gives me one of his master blow jobs then brings me a drink and fills me in on all the gossip of the day. A whole evening goes by, just the two of us, and I love it. I'm crazy about the boy, Mike." Hassan's eyes got moist.
"And he idolizes you, of course," Mike said. "I see his eyes shining with pride. But why don't you have Eddie come out here and join you for a week? He could even bring his pal Will to do one of his catering gigs. We'd pay the kid well and we sure need someone who can cook for us."
"It's a great idea, Mike, but I'm not sure Bob could spare the two of them from the compound."
"Huh, you can leave that to me, Hassan. Bob is real easy going and I can have that big gypsy Randy eating out of my hand."
"So go for it Mike. If you can swing it I'm all for it. Meanwhile, old buddy, what's going on here?"
"Ah, I'm glad we got to that `cos I'm gonna ask a big favor of you, buddy. You know Mark and Jamie are here?"
"Yeah, I kinda heard they were headed out here. Damn bad business that stress and burnout stuff Mark's going through. Happens to all of us guys in law enforcement and the military. You recall that time I was going through something similar? I went kinda crazy, lost my temper with Eddie and told him to get the hell out."
"Yeah," Mike grinned, "and he hightailed it out here. Asked for his old bar-back job back. He was planning to earn a few extra bucks in the bar selling blow-jobs to guys in the back room. Course I phoned to alert you and you were out here like a shot. I'll never forget you crashing into that room just in time. Your voice boomed, Back off, that's my boy. He belongs to me.' You threw him over your shoulder, stormed out and took him home." [In Chapter 326]
"Yeah, Mike, and you know, when we got home I was racked with guilt – I had actually hurt that sweet kid, caused him pain. I told him I was sorry of course but it wasn't enough. I never did find a way to really punish myself for the way I behaved – except to pledge never to hurt Eddie again and to love him stronger than ever."
"Hassan, you have just saved me a long explanation. That is exactly what Mark is going through right now. They've reconciled but he is still trying to punish himself for making Jamie suffer. Said he needs to suffer himself and for Jamie to see him suffer."
"Damn," Hassan said, clenching his fists. "I love that guy, Mike, you know that. I'd do anything to help him."
"Well, barely half an hour ago he took Jamie out to your house, planning on using your basement dungeon there where you and Mark have had your own action replays. He took his cop uniform too. I can only imagine that he plans something like chaining himself up in there and having Jamie work him over. But that ain't gonna work. You know Jamie loves the guy to death and would do anything for him – except give him pain. So I thought maybe you ..."
"Damn straight I will."
"I hate to have you go out again the minute you got here, dude, but ..."
Hassan was already on his feet. "I got this, Mike. Leave it to me. So Mark wants to suffer. If that's what he wants I'll give it to him in in the worst way – without hardly touching him. Keep those beers cold, buddy. We're gonna need them."
DESERT DUNGEON
On the drive out to the remote desert Jamie had been gripped with nervous anticipation. He had a good idea what Mark intended as Hassan's dungeon was a place the two men had worked through their guilt and lust on several occasions. He also knew that the bulging backpack contained Mark's uniform, so it was to be some kind of ritual penance.
But if he intended for Jamie to be the instrument of punishment he couldn't see how that would work. Sure he could fuck Mark – they did that often – but that would be pleasure, not punishment. And if physical pain was involved, like chains and whips, Jamie knew he couldn't do that to the man he loved, especially as they had just reconciled.
When they arrived at the small sun-bleached house isolated in remote dunes Mark unlocked the door and told Jamie to wait while went down to the basement to get things ready. Jamie got a beer from the fridge that was always kept stocked by Mark and Larry. Wearing his usual board shorts, loose tank and sneakers he sat in the shade of the patio, his apprehension mounting.
Meanwhile, it was about that time that Hassan took off in his jeep for the drive to the house, which usually took half an hour. But now, with no other vehicles on the narrow desert road and Hassan's sense of urgency to spur him on, it took him about twenty minutes. He already knew roughly what he was going to do. He knew Mark well from the intensely macho trials of strength they subjected each other to, starting with that wartime interrogation years ago. [In Chapter 91]
It was a unique mixture of physical and mental pain and virile lust that had caused them, perversely, to fall in love so long ago and kept luring them back for more. But this time there was an extra incentive – Hassan would be performing a service for the cop and his boy – something they would remember for a long time.
He turned off the road and onto the sandy track that led to the house. He parked by Mark's truck, got out and shut the jeep's door quietly, though he knew that little sound penetrated the dark depths of his basement room.
He went in, down the stairs and opened the basement door silently. The door was in the shadowy depths of the room and the two men were too engrossed in each other to notice the entrance of the battle-dressed Marine standing in the shadows taking in the scene.
The room was black except for all the floor length wall mirrors with their multiple reflections of the action in the room. Various chains hung down from the ceiling beams that formed the structural underpinnings of the house. The walls and floors were a litter of paraphernalia like ropes, whips, restraints and shredded remains of clothes that had been ripped from bound bodies in the frenzy of former homoerotic fantasies.
The only light came from ceiling spots that illuminated the center of the room with red-tinted splashes of light that pooled on the black floor. And now they were focused on a scene that gave Hassan an instant erection. In the center of the room stood the muscular blond cop with the sculpted looks of a Norse God. His arms were stretched up, wrists bound by leather restraints at the ends of chains hanging from beams high above him.
The police officer was wearing his black uniform pants, a silver stripe down the sides, tucked into high, shiny black motorcycle boots. His black uniform shirt with its flashes and badges was lying discarded on the floor. He had stripped off the shirt but still had on the white T-shirt that he always wore under it, which now, with his body stretched up as if on a rack, clung to the contours of his muscular physique.
In places it was already damp with patches of sweat, under his armpits and down the cleft between his bulging pecs. At his tight waist the shirt was mostly circled by the cop's heavy black belt, but as he stretched upward one side had come loose and hung limply outside his pants revealing a glimpse of tanned flesh underneath.
Hassan gazed in silent awe at the bound cop and had to stop himself from ejaculating in his fatigues at the stunningly homoerotic sight.
The other man in the scene was an incongruous sight. It was the cop's boy, a handsome young blond muscle-jock wearing only faded blue surfboard shorts, an old loose tank and sneakers. And he, Hassan supposed, was to be the instrument of torture to absolve the cop of his shame.
Mike had been right that it wouldn't work. Jamie was holding a bullwhip and at Mark's insistence was unwillingly, and only lightly, lashing it across Mark's chest. "Harder, boy. Make it hurt, make me suffer as much as I made you suffer."
"But sir, I love you ... I'll try but ..."
Pathetic, Hassan thought. Time to bring in the Marines.
THE COP'S FATE IS SEALED "Stand back, boy!" The harsh command shocked the cop and his boy who watched the fearsome Marine approach. Hassan grabbed the whip and gave the order again. "I said stand back, boy. This is between the officer and me."
Stunned, Jamie did as ordered and took a few steps back. The rugged soldier in his combat fatigues and boots, his shirt hanging open over a khaki tank stretched over his muscled torso, was not a man to argue with.
Mark's reaction was an instant hard-on in his uniform pants, with memories dating back to the wartime interrogation scene where, chained in a torture cell, he had fallen in love with his captor. Now here they were again, the blond American, stripped to the waist and chained at the mercy of the swarthy olive skinned Arab soldier.
As their eyes met again that same mix of lust and machismo swept over them and Hassan put his hand behind Mark's head and pressed their mouths together in a grinding kiss.
When Hassan pulled back he put the whip handle under Mark's chin and pushed his face up, forcing the chained cop to stare at him. In his deep accented voice Hassan growled, "I have been hearing a lot about you, man – the way you lost your cool and took it out on your boy, freezing him out of your life, making him face the agony of life without you.
"That was bad, officer. We in law enforcement are subject to stress attacks like yours, but however we handle it we do not, ever, hurt our boys and make them suffer along with us. Seems you realize that now and this whole setup is your attempt at making amends. Right?"
"I need to be punished," Mark said. "I need to feel pain, as my boy did. I need my boy to see me suffer, to see the shame I feel at the way I treated him."
Hassan's eyes narrowed. "And you're making your boy do that? You're putting a whip in his hand and making him suffer even more by thrashing his master? I don't fucking believe it. Punishment like this is work for a man, not for a boy who's in love with you."
"So do it, captain. You do it – punish me, hurt me, whip me, make me beg for mercy. I need it."
"The hell you do. OK, let's do it right." With his free hand Hassan grabbed the front of Mark's T-shirt and ripped it down all the way down so the white fabric fell in shreds around cop's waist.
Hassan stepped back and gazed at the handsome blond cop, shirtless now in uniform [pants and boots, his body stretched in chains, muscles gleaming under the lights. Turned on by the homoerotic spectacle before him Hassan's cock pulsed in his pants. He raised his arm and brought the whip lashing down across the bare, muscled chest.
The cop howled in pain and braced for the second blow. The soldier raised his arm again ... but "NO!" A hand grabbed his forearm and prevented the blow. Hassan whirled round to see Jamie, eyes pleading, holding his arm. "No, sir, please don't. Please don't hurt him. I don't care about the way he treated me. Please, don't whip him, I beg you."
"But you heard him, boy. He wants to be punished, needs to be hurt as he hurt you." A smile crossed Hassan's face – his plan was working. "But ... there is another way. Are you prepared to take his punishment for him?"
"Yes please, sir. Hurt me, not him."
"No!" Mark yelled, but Hassan turned on him with strange look of dominance tinged with affection. "This is now between me and your boy, officer. There is more than one way to give you the pain you need. I know from experience that whipping you won't cause you the kind of pain that breaks you. We know each other too well to believe that. Physical force won't do it, but there's something worse – the mental agony of watching your boy suffer."
"No ... no," Mark pleaded desperately. "Do whatever you want to me ... but not my boy."
"Like I said, officer, this is between me and the boy. And he wants it."
"Ignoring Mark's loud protests Hassan went efficiently to work on Jamie who allowed himself to be chained just like his master, his wrists tied, body stretched upward, facing Mark about six feet apart. Hassan walked round them surveying his creation, tapping the whip in the palm of his hand.
"Now that is what I call a pornographic sight. A big muscular cop shirtless in chains, his helpless body like it's stretched on a rack. And facing him is his boy, a beautiful, athletic young jock in surfer trunks, also helpless in chains. One is gonna watch the other's punishment at the hands of the Arab soldier. Let's see now. Which one is it to be? The boy I think."
The soldier grabbed the boy's old tank and ripped it clear off so the young athlete's beautiful body was stretched on stunning display, naked except for his board shorts. Hassan raised the whip but Mark yelled a piercing "NO!"
Hassan smiled and lowered his arm. "You are right, officer. A young man as beautiful as this should not be marked – he should be loved." Hassan went up to Mark and draped the whip round his neck. "Officer, there are three ways I could give you the punishment you deserve and that you crave so badly. I could thrash your body. I could make you watch me thrash your boy. Or ... I could ... force you to watch while I make love to your boy."
Hassan bent down and picked up off the floor a studded black collar which he now ritually buckled round Mark's neck. "Just to show the big macho cop who is really the master here – a master strong enough and beautiful enough to take the muscle-god's boy from him and make him love me.
"The handsome muscle-cop is broken, stripped to the waist, his shirtless body striped by the whip, stretched as if tortured on a rack. His own boy is chained before him, at the mercy of a dominant Arab soldier, while the cop is forced to watch in abject humiliation, helpless in chains with a slave collar round his neck.
"Your crime was to turn your back on your boy. Your punishment is for him to turn away from you and make love to me. You wanted to suffer, officer. You begged for it. So now you will suffer in a way you never dreamed of."
HUMILIATION – FORCED TO WATCH
Mark pulled defiantly at his bound wrists and his body strained in a futile attempt at freedom.
When Hassan turned away from him Mark caught sight of himself in a mirror and saw the homoerotic truth of Hassan's description – a macho cop hanging in chains, bare-chested in uniform pants and boots, the shreds of his ripped T-shirt hanging round his waist. To complete his humiliation a studded black collar was buckled round his neck and a whip draped round it as a reminder of his fate if he or his boy refused the Marine's orders.
Hassan now fixed his brown almond shaped eyes on Jamie whose only thought was to save his master pain. Hassan stroked the handsome face, tracing its contours down from his brow, over his eyes and mouth, over the square jaw and down to his neck. He clamped his hand lightly round the neck and smiled. "Now you are mine, boy. You are the captain's boy, is that not so?"
Jamie's instinct was defiance but when he felt the hand tighten round his throat he gasped, "Yes, sir, I'm your boy, sir."
"Good. Here are the rules. You will do exactly what I say and if you please me the cop will not get harmed. His fate is up to you. The same goes for the cop, who will watch in silence. One word of protest from him and you get hurt. Your fate is up to him."
Hassan smiled, "You really are a very beautiful boy. I shall enjoy making love to you." The soldier leaned forward and licked the boy's lips, then pressed his own full lips against them in a building kiss. Despite Jamie's anxiety and confusion he felt his cock stiffen in his shorts.
Hassan pulled away and smiled. "Did you like that, boy?"
Jamie knew the answer the captain wanted to hear. What made it even harder to say was that it was the truth. Avoiding Mark's eyes over Hassan's shoulder he replied, "Yes, sir. I liked it very much."
"Good, because there's a lot more to come. I like to make love to beautiful boys like you, long and slow. We have a long way to go." He reached down and grabbed the hard bulge in Jamie's shorts. "I see you are roused, boy. Do you think the Marine Captain is handsome?"
"Ye ... yes, sir. Very handsome."
"Then show me how much you like him." Hassan shrugged off his shirt and stood before Jamie with his muscled torso flexing under the khaki, sweat stained tank top. Jamie's cock got harder. The tall Marine reached up high, grabbed the chains Jamie's wrists were tied to and pressed his body against him. "Show me, boy."
Jamie's face was level with Hassan's neck so he licked it, sucking in the sweat drops from the cleft at his throat, then bent lower and licked the sweaty tank. Hassan shifted position and pressed his armpit over Jamie's face. His face buried in thick armpit hair Jamie breathed in the stink of sweat and licked the pit voraciously.
He was gasping when Hassan finally pulled away and laughed. "I believe you do really want me, boy. Do you want me to kiss you again? Tell me ... ask me."
Jamie gazed at the olive-skinned Arab/Asian face with its half smile, and said, "I want it, sir. Please ... please kiss me again, sir." Hassan obliged by once again covering the boy's mouth with his full, moist lips.
Mark had watched all this in growing anguish, his body writhing, muscles flexing as he yanked hopelessly at his bound wrists. The sight of his boy submitting to the Marine Captain was agony to him. This was the boy he had pushed away from him, he had forced him out of his life, and now he was being punished by his boy turning away from him and making love to the Arab soldier.
The pain was excruciating. A whipping he could have taken, would have welcomed even, but not this. He was bursting to protest, to yell obscenities at the soldier, to beg even, but he knew that if he said one word or turned his head away the soldier was capable of harming his boy.
The agony was compounded by the thought that Jamie might be making love to Hassan not because he was forced to but because he wanted to. Was he really, actually losing Jamie? He wanted again to scream out ... but he knew he was beaten. He stopped struggling and his body sagged. This was his punishment, worse than he could ever have imagined, forced to watch his beautiful boy make love to the swarthy Arab Marine.
Hassan had a strong natural sexuality and when he finally broke away from the kiss he increased his power over Jamie. "I know what you really want, boy. Look at this." He cupped his hands round the massive bulge in his fatigue pants. "Confess it, boy."
Of course Jamie knew where this was headed but still he felt defiant, knowing how much Mark must be hurting. So he remained silent. Hassan's eyes flashed, he turned to Mark and grabbed the whip handle at his neck.
"Yes sir, yes sir," Jamie said desperately, "I want to suck your dick, sir. Please, sir."
Hassan kept his hand on the whip handle. "Enough to beg for it, boy? Enough to crawl for it?"
"Yes, sir, whatever you say, sir."
Hassan let go of the whip handle, came back to Jamie and unclipped his wrist restraints from the chains. Jamie's arms dropped with relief as his circulation returned to normal. "We'll leave the restraints round your wrists for future use, boy. For now, just look at me."
Jamie had a fleeting impulse to fight and release Mark but knew he would be instantly overpowered. And what he saw next kept him rooted to the spot. Slowly Hassan ran his hand over his own tank, caressing his own muscular chest, making love to it. He tweaked his own nipples through the shirt then dug his fingers in it ... and yanked it down.
To the sound of ripping fabric first one shoulder came free, then the other and with one last pull the tank came off and Jamie was gazing at the muscular Marine stripped to the waist in camouflage fatigues and combat boots. Jamie gasped and Hassan said, "Touch it."
Jamie reached forward and ran his hands over the solid contours of the soldier's torso, his bulging shoulders, the solid mounds of his chest and the hard ridges of his washboard abs. Hassan growled, "Lower, boy, and Jamie's hands went over his belt and down to the bulge in the pants. He could feel the shape of the balls and the massive cock, rock hard, slanting upwards.
"You want it, boy, don't you? You wanna suck your captain's cock, right?
"Yes, sir. Please, sir. I want to suck your cock, sir."
"You're gonna have to work for it."
"Anything you say, sir."
Hassan draped his torn tank round Jamie's neck then turned away, walked over to the mirrored wall on the other side of the room and leaned his back against it. Lit by two ceiling spotlights the shirtless soldier ripped open his pants and pulled out his long thick shaft. Jamie gasped loudly and Hassan said, "Let me look at you, boy. Get naked." Jamie kicked off his sneakers, dropped his shorts and stood naked staring at the soldier across the room.
Hassan was stroking his cock slowly. "I could bust a load just looking at you, boy."
"No, please, sir. Let me suck your cock ... I beg you."
"I wanna see a handsome jock crawl to me, boy. But I don't want a word. Shove my shirt in your mouth."
Jamie pulled the ragged shirt from round his neck, stuffed it in his mouth and obeyed and bit down on it, tasting the sweat that oozed from it and trickled down his throat.
He dropped to his knees, fell on his stomach and slowly dragged himself across the floor, over the litter of ropes, restraints and ripped clothes, his eyes focused on his goal – the soldier's cock. He had forgotten the soldier's threat of hurting Mark. What motivated him now was not concern for Mark but lust for his captor, for the bare-chested Marine gazing at him from across the room.
Mark watched with a mix of fascinated horror and raging lust. He knew exactly what was happening – the same thing that happened to him years ago when the same man, an enemy soldier, had chained and interrogated him in the desert cell. He too had looked across that cell at his captor, the dark, muscle-god Arab – and had fallen in love with him. What had happened to him then was now happening to his boy, the young blond jock dragging himself over the ground buck naked, his mouth gagged by the Arab's stinking shirt.
When he reached his goal Jamie grabbed the soldier's boot and pulled himself the last few feet. He spat out the shirt and kissed the boot. Then he grabbed the leg and pulled himself up higher and higher to the long hard cock ... and closed his mouth over it.
"That's it, boy, suck your master's cock. Eat it, love it." He grabbed Jamie's tangled blond hair and pulled his face down and back on his cock, hearing the slurping sounds and watching tears flow down the kneeling jock's cheeks.
Hassan looked over at the chained cop watching in agony as his boy made love to the soldier's cock. "You see, officer? This is what it looks like when you reject your boy and send him into another man's arms. The handsome young stud is a prize catch and you turned your back on him. This is your punishment – to watch your boy submit to another master and suck his cock."
Jamie was choking on the Arab's massive cock filling his mouth and tears streamed down his face when Hassan took pity on him and pushed him off it. He leaned down, hooked his hands under Jamie's armpits and pulled him up on his feet. He forced him to face the mirror and pressed against his back. Looking over his shoulder at the boy's reflection he said, "Now tell me what you want, boy. Tell me what you want the Marine Captain to do to you."
Jamie was panting hard, in a frenzy of lust. "Fuck me, sir. Fuck my ass. I want it so bad ... aaagh!" He screamed as the soldier's wet cock penetrated his ass. He raised his arms, pressed his hands on the mirror and arched backward, forcing his ass back on the pounding shaft that pistoned inside him.
He stared in the mirror at the dark Arab face over his shoulder, then at a side mirror where he saw the macho Marine flex his muscles as he plough the naked jock's ass, and in the middle of the room the shirtless cop, writhing in chains, watched with tears pouring down his face.
Jamie was swamped by an onrush of sensual excess. He couldn't process it, all he knew, all he was sure of, was that the magnificent Marine was pounding his ass. He would do anything for him, anything he demanded. He felt the heavy body press against his back, heard his heavy breathing, smelled his rancid sweat and pushed his ass back to feel every inch of the soldier's cock in his ass. He forced himself not to cum – he wanted this incredible feeling to last.
After what seemed like an eternity he heard the low accented voice in his ear. "Show me how much you want me, boy. Tell me ... show me. You know you want to. Do it!"
Jamie's body was on fire. His hands still high on the mirror, he raised up on his toes, flexed his whole naked body, pushed his ass back further on Hassan's cock and he howled, "I love you, sir. I love you ... fuck me ...I wanna feel your juice in my ass ..."
Then suddenly, on the edge of Jamie's climax ... Hassan pulled out. "Nooo..." Jamie yelled, falling against the mirror and pounding it with frustration.
Hassan's calm voice said, "OK, that's enough. Time for this to end."
THE CLIMAX
Hassan grabbed Jamie's shoulders, turned him around and folded his arms round him. "Sir," Jamie sobbed, "what did I do wrong?"
"Not you, Jamie," Hassan smiled. "You did nothing wrong. You've been true blue all through your troubles, loyal to the man you love. Come with me."
He propelled the naked boy to the middle of the room where he pushed him against Mark, chest to chest. Quickly he grabbed the leather restraints still round Jamie's wrists, raised them up and clipped them to the same link in the chains as Mark's.
"That's better ... that's how it should be. Mark, you have suffered an agonizing punishment for the way you rejected your boy and made him suffer. You have watched that boy turn away from you and show his love and lust for another. Be careful, man. That could really happen one day if you pull the same stunt again. He's a beautiful, beautiful boy and a man like me would snap him up as his boy in a heartbeat. And as you saw, I could make him love me.
"But you two are the perfect couple and if anyone ever came between you I would thrash him with my own hands. You wanted to suffer, Mark, and you have suffered worse than you ever thought possible. But it's over. You got the punishment you needed and no one got physically hurt. Just one thing left." His chiseled features broke into a smile. "I gotta get my rocks off."
Hassan reached down between Mark and Jamie and felt the bulge in the cop's uniform pants. "I thought so. Pressed against this naked jock how could you not have a hard-on?" He unzipped the pants, pulled out the rigid dick and pushed the two men hard against each other.
Mark looked from Jamie to the swarthy Arab face over his shoulder and their eyes met, much as they had in that moment when love ignited in the desert dungeon years ago, a man-to-man intimacy that lasted to this day. Then Mark switched his gaze to Jamie's eyes as Hassan said in Jamie's ear, "Jamie, you wanted me to cum in your ass, I know that. You still want it?"
"Yes please, sir." Hassan pushed he wet cock between the boy's cheeks and for the second time drove in hard. "Aaaah!" Jamie sighed, only this time he was staring not into the soldier's eyes in the mirror but directly into the blue-gray eyes of the man he had loved for so long. In a daze of happy confusion he sighed, "Fuck me, sir. Please fuck me. I want it so bad."
Hassan's voice said in his ear again. "And you still love me, boy?"
Still gazing into Mark's eyes Jamie responded to Hassan. "I love you sir ... I love you." Hassan fucked ever deeper, pushing hard against Jamie and forcing the boy's body against Mark's, their cocks grinding against each other. "Sir," Jamie panted, "I can't hold back this time, sir. You're making me cum."
"So do it Jamie," came the voice in his ear. "Do it just as you did at the mirror."
At the mirror Jamie had been stretched up against the glass. This time his body was stretched up against Mark's as he raised up on his toes, his body flexed, and he stared deep into Mark's eyes howling, "I love you, sir. I love you ... fuck me ...Yeaaah!"
Hassan's semen poured into his ass as Jamie's own cock erupted ... and so did Mark's, both of them spurting up between them, lubricating their stomachs as they ground against each other.
With tears on their cheeks their faces closed together in a hungry kiss, probing each other's tongue, breathing each other's breath. In his euphoria Jamie was dimly aware of Hassan's cock easing out of his ass and a buckle at his wrist being loosened.
When at long last their mouths separated Jamie felt his wrist come loose. He undid the other, unbuckled the collar from Mark's neck and tossed it to the floor, then freed Mark.
They both looked round for Hassan but he was gone. Alone now they sank to the floor in each other's arms. "Sir," Jamie said. "About all that stuff I said to Hassan, I ..."
"Jamie, there's no need. I understand and there's no problem. You know I have loved Hassan for many years and now you can share that love. He's a magnificent man, inside and out, and we'll be honored to count him as our special friend. He gave me exactly what I needed, agonizing as it was. I have purged the last of my demons ... and I love you, Jamie.
Their mouths came together again in a passionate kiss.
A BLAST FROM THE PAST – ASIAN TWINS
At that moment Hassan was walking in on Mike and Larry, still stripped to the waist, his shirt thrown over his shoulder, carrying the shredded remains of his tank in one hand. "Well look at you, soldier," Mike grinned. "Can we assume that things went well?"
Better than I could have expected, Mike. Everyone's happy, everyone's in love ... and everyone got his rocks off. It don't get better than that, dude. Now where's that beer I asked you to keep on ice?"
"Coming right up, sir," Larry said, handing him a bottle.
Mike chuckled, "So, in the words of the Lone Ranger, captain, `your work here is done'. Now you can relax for a whole week. I cleared everything with Bob and your boy Eddie is coming out here with Will. That young redhead is thrilled to be joining the party and cooking for us. They're on the road as we speak."
They were indeed, Will sitting excitedly beside Eddie in Eddie's truck, with his dog Norman on his lap. "I brought three aprons with me and three chef's hats, dude, `cos I'm gonna need help in the kitchen feeding that hungry crowd. Damn – a Marine, a cop, a mechanic and a surfer. Like the opening scene of a porn movie. I didn't like leaving the twins though. They always miss me."
"Oh I wouldn't be worried about them, dude. They won't be lonely or anything after that phone call from those twins."
Will frowned. "Twins? What twins?"
"The Asian twins ... what, you don't know?" Didn't they ever tell you? Well kid you've come to the right dude `cos I got all the scoop on that." Of course he did. Eddie had the scoop on everything and was only too eager to share it. "Dude, it was sooo cool ..." And he was off to the races.
"Must've been almost five years ago. Bob, Hassan and Jason took their boys – the twins, Ben and me – to Chicago to teach us how to behave like young gentlemen instead of just slopping around in shorts and tanks fucking our brains out all the time. We stayed in style at the Four Seasons and were waited on at dinner by – wait for it – two identical twins – Chinese boys, totally gorgeous with those smooth bodies they got going on and those, er, incurable smiles."
"Inscrutable, Eddie."
"Yeah that's the one. Anyway, I don't have to tell ya that the Asian boys, Lee and Toni, ended up in our suite, and they had this weird connection with our twins. You know how Kyle and Kevin can read each other's minds. Well all four twins could do the same just by looking at each other. It was like they were in their own world, did everything the same – kinda like one of those big old trees where all the branches sway together in a breeze. It was like nobody else existed." [In Chapter 209]
"So, long story short – yeah, dude, even I can keep a story short. Long story short, everyone had a ton of sex and when we left the hotel Lee and Toni promised to come and see the twins if ever they visited L.A.
"Well everyone promises stuff like that, and nothing happened. But fast forward to a few days ago and the Asian kids called our twins and said they were coming to town. Kyle and Kevin were real stoked about that, can't wait to get back together.
"So kiddo, looks like you're gonna be dealing with two sets of identical twins when you get home. Better sharpen the old mind-reading skills, dude. I'm surprised they didn't tell you."
"Yeah, me too," Will murmured. His mind was racing and he felt somehow troubled. He knew he could never match that kind of twins-to-twins connection. So where would that leave him? How would he fit in? And what if he didn't?"
"OK," Eddie breezed on, "forget all that, we're almost at Uncle Mike's. Can't wait to find out what's been happening out here – get all the gossip. Boy, this is gonna be fun."
TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 461
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.
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