A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 50 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER Randy hates the immaculate, clean-cut architect, Lloyd. But Bob feels an affinity for him, resulting in an unforgiveable act. Bob sees cold fury in Randy's steel blue eyes. "You know I have to hurt you, man. It's all I know how to do." In the desolation of the scorching desert Bob's body and mind endure punishment. The body builder stands bound, naked, abandoned in the unforgiving wilderness.

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A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - Part 50

Pablo came back into the dining room wide-eyed. "There's a real hot guy at the door asking for Randy. Says he wants to apologize."

That would be Lloyd, the arrogant, well-dressed, preppy architect who got under the skin of the construction boss, Randy, and had paid a heavy price. Randy had challenged him to work a day under his command on the site. But Lloyd had been jealous of Darius's position as foreman and had crudely insulted the young black man with racial slurs.

Randy's fury had resulted in a brutal punishment for the handsome architect, who had wound up lying in the dirt, reduced to a filthy, shirtless, wreck of a man, covered in sweat, oil and urine. Randy had snarled, "Now get the hell off my work site and out of my face. You're finished here."

Now, that same evening, as the guys were finishing dinner, here he was at the door. Bob went to the front door and gazed at the tall, broad-shouldered man dressed simply in jeans and white T-shirt. Pablo had been right, Bob thought. The man was hot. Clean-cut, short black hair, squared jaw, gray eyes and neatly trimmed moustache and goatee beard. Their eyes locked in a long, silent gaze.

They went into the dining room where Lloyd stood rooted to the spot. Round the cluttered table were six stunning-looking men. He had trouble believing his eyes. The architect was dumbstruck as he looked in awe from one handsome face to the next.

As Randy watched Lloyd's gaze settle on each man in turn he thought to himself. "Yeah, and all you get to do is look, asshole. They're all gorgeous ... and they're mine. You lay a finger on any of these guys and you answer to me."

Lloyd recovered himself, cleared his throat and spoke hesitantly. "Er, I'm sorry to barge in like this and interrupt your meal but I would like to speak to Randy alone. I ... er ... I have something to say."

Randy fixed him with a hostile look and growled. "Anything you want to say to me you can say right here, asshole. These guys are all my buddies. They need to hear it too."

Darius's eyes shone as he whispered to Pablo, "Damn right we do." Pablo kicked him in the shins under the table.

Intimidated by this audience Lloyd cleared his throat again and began. "I have come to apologize. I don't know what made me behave like that today. It was totally unacceptable and not like me at all. I know I sometimes come across as arrogant, but I guess that's just a defense mechanism. Anyway, I deserved everything you threw at me Randy. It may not seem like it but I respect the hell out of you and just wanted to prove myself to you."

He ran out of words and blushed. Randy grunted. "That all you got, man? What about the "black boy" here?" he snarled, using Lloyd's own words of earlier.

Lloyd blushed even more. "I'm embarrassed to hear those words thrown back at me. I know I used ugly racial slurs and I'm deeply ashamed of what I said. From what I saw you're a great guy, Darius, and you did not deserve to hear those words out of my mouth." He hesitated, "Tell you the truth, I guess I was jealous that you and Randy were so close."

The abject apology left them all silent. Nervously Lloyd pulled out his business card and threw it on the table. "In spite of everything I would like to continue as your architect on this project but I realize that's your decision, Randy. My home number's on the card, sir. I hope you call me."

Without another word he turned and walked out of the room and they heard the front door close softly behind him. There was a stunned silence, which was finally broken unexpectedly by Jamie.

"Wow, that guy speaks real well ... real elegant."

Mark smiled and put his arm round his boy's shoulder. "You're right, kid. He sure has a neat turn of phrase. But it's what he said that impressed me. He sounded really remorseful. Took a lot of courage to say that in front of all of us."

Randy jumped to his feet and took a deep breath, his fists clenched. But before he could speak Bob stood too and said, "I think we should sleep on it. No reactions or decisions right now. Mark, we'll talk tomorrow. Boys, clear the table. Randy, bedtime." He put his arm round his buddy's neck and together they went upstairs.

The discussion the next day was a long one between the three partners in the construction company, Randy, Bob and Mark. Bob argued convincingly that their firm needed a full-time architect on staff. "I was crunching the numbers and it makes a lot of sense financially. Besides, if it was our guy you'd have complete control over him, Randy."

Mark agreed but Randy was hard to convince. Mark argued, "You've said it yourself, buddy, Lloyd is a talented architect. Real innovative."

"Yeah," Randy growled. "Always talking about his fucking `vision'."

"Vision's a good thing, no?"

Bob brought the discussion to a close. "Look, the first thing we need to do is take a look at some of his past work."

"Count me out," Randy snarled.

"It'd be tough for me," added Mark. "I'm pulling 12-hour shifts right now."

"Well, I have a couple of days off work," Bob said. "I could take a look at his earlier projects and report back to you guys."

Randy gave Bob a strange look of disapproval mixed with suspicion, but he voiced no objection.

Events moved pretty fast after that. Bob called Lloyd and explained what they had discussed. Lloyd reacted with enthusiasm. The firm he worked for was based in San Bernardino, a city sixty miles due east of L.A., which is where most of Lloyd's buildings were. He was keen to show his work to Bob and arranged to drive him out the next day in his Mercedes. The men considered it a business trip so it happened that both had dressed in jacket and tie and dress slacks.

The drive to San Bernardino on Interstate-10 was only about an hour but in that time they got to know each other well. It turned out they had a whole lot in common. Both had lived previously in San Francisco, both had MBA degrees from UC Berkeley, and both now worked for major companies. They easily fell into comfortable conversation and when they arrived in San Bernardino Bob allowed himself to be driven from one impressive building to another.

"And you were the lead architect on all of these?" Bob asked.

"Yeah. They were team projects, of course, but I did most of the concept design."

"Why on earth would you consider working for a small company like ours?"

Lloyd smiled. "I need to be with guys who are forward thinking, to have the flexibility to try new concepts. That `vision' thing I talk about. Besides, seems to me your company won't be small for much longer."

They talked about the synergy between architecture, engineering and construction, cost effectiveness, budgets, environmental concerns. They spoke the same language. They understood each other, related to each other ... liked each other. The day was too short to take in all of the buildings they needed to see so, without thinking twice, they decided to stay overnight and continue the next day. Besides, they found they really enjoyed each other's company and wanted to talk more.

Bob called the house to tell Randy of his plans but only Pablo was home, so he left the message with him and said they'd be staying at the local Hilton overnight. At the hotel registration desk they both pulled out their credit card and slapped it on the counter.

Bob said to Lloyd, "My Company has a corporate rate with Hilton."

"So does mine," Lloyd laughed.

It turned out there was a convention in town so rooms were scarce. "Sorry," said the clerk, "no doubles, but we do have a nice king-size on the top floor." They didn't have to think about it. "Perfect," they both said in unison.

Even when they entered the room the fact that they would be sharing a bed never even crossed their minds. They were so into their conversation that sleeping arrangements never really occurred to them. They went downstairs to the restaurant for dinner, two smartly dressed, very handsome men who made more than a few heads turn. But they were oblivious.

The waiter handed them the menus and they both decided on the salmon. Lloyd perused the wine menu. "Hmm, it's an all-California wine list but they have a nice Castle Rock Chardonnay. That be OK?"

"Sure." Bob smiled to himself, thinking how he had become used to beer all the time with Randy. This touch of sophistication was a new, and he had to admit, pleasant experience. After dinner they went to the hotel's martini bar and became acquainted with the lavish array of martini flavors. They drank steadily as they talked. They moved on from business topics and the conversation became more personal.

"You told Randy you're divorced," Bob said, and he saw Lloyd blush.

"Yeah ... well it's true technically. Truth is that for seven years I was in a relationship ... with a guy. We had a tough separation a year ago and I haven't touched anyone else since."

"Sounds a bit lonely."

Lloyd's soft gray eyes held Bob's. "You don't know how lonely," he said. "All I have is work."

The bar closed at midnight and by the time they went up to the room they were both pretty drunk. It had been a great day. Once inside the room they looked shyly at each other. Then, in unison, they shook off their jackets and loosened their ties. They watched each other through a pleasant alcohol-induced haze as they slowly began to undress. The shirts came off and Lloyd took a sharp intake of breath.

"Jesus, man. Sorry, but you're fucking gorgeous. That body, that face. I've never ..."

Bob interrupted. "You're not so shabby yourself. Wow. You work out a lot, uh?"

"Every day. Work and gym. That's pretty much my life."

When they finally took off their shorts they were embarrassed to see that each had a huge erection. "You too, uh?" grinned Bob sheepishly. They climbed into bed and lay apart, self-consciously, for a few minutes. Lloyd finally broke the silence and asked hesitantly, "Is it OK if I touch you? It's been so long since I touched another guy."

"Sure," said Bob. "Make yourself at home." But his casual tone changed when Lloyd reached over and put his hand on Bob's chest. Bob's cock immediately got harder as he looked into Lloyd's handsome face. He gasped as he realized what was about to happen. He reached over and ran his hands down Lloyd's body, luxuriating in the soft, silky, hairless skin, so different from Randy's rugged body.

Emboldened by drink Lloyd said. "God this feels great, man. My cock's like iron. Is it possible ... I mean ... do you ever get fucked?"

"Only by one man," Bob said. "Sorry." Drunk as he was he knew better than to give his ass to anyone but Randy. He saw the look of disappointment and sadness on Lloyd's face, so he asked, "What about you?"

"Haven't had anyone inside me for over a year. But if the right man came along ..."

"Come here," Bob whispered taking the smooth, sculpted body in his arms. Lloyd turned over and Bob pressed his raging dick against the velvet ass. As he eased it inside both men forgot all else, all sense of time or place, and surrendered themselves to the joy of their new-found intimacy. They made love for a long time until they finally fell asleep in each other's arms.

It was early in the morning when Bob woke with a start. Disoriented he took a moment to remember where he was. Then he focused on the hotel room blinds and it all came back. He turned his head and saw the handsome face on the next pillow sleeping peacefully with a slight smile on his lips.

Bob jumped out of bed and looked at himself in the mirror. "Jesus," he thought. "What the fuck have I done? You fucking idiot." He stared at himself aghast. He had slept with the man Randy had so recently beaten and humiliated. He tried to tell himself that it was OK that he had got along so well with Lloyd but, hell ... sex! He became scared. He had to speak to Randy ... had to explain face to face. Jesus, what a fucking mess.

He shook Lloyd. "Sorry, man. We have to leave right away. I have to get home ... something real important I gotta do."

Twenty minutes later they had checked out and were walking across the parking lot to Lloyd's Mercedes. The architect put his arm companionably round Bob's shoulder as they approached the car. Bob was about to get in when something made him look up ... and his blood ran cold. He stopped breathing. There, across the lot, was Randy's truck.

A pair of steel blue eyes narrowed as they watched the two men speak quickly, urgently with each other. Then they shook hands. One got into the Mercedes and the other walked quickly toward the truck.

"Get in."

The voice was expressionless. No way for Bob to gauge the mood, though he knew beyond doubt what it would be. He guessed that Pablo had given Randy his message and that Randy had immediately followed him out to San Bernardino. He had no doubt been waiting hours for him. There was a short silence, then Randy's words and his tone amazed Bob.

Calmly, Randy asked, "So how was your day? You see his work? What d'ya think?"

Trying to keep cool Bob cleared his throat and spoke as normally as possible. "Great. Er, it was a great day. His work is excellent. And you know, Lloyd turned out to be a cool guy."

"Really?"

"Yeah, er ... turns out we had a lot in common. Same background, both got MBA's from U.C. Berkeley, both work for major corporations. We talked non-stop about business, architecture, engineering ... the works ... you name it." Bob was starting to stumble, with a vague sense that he was saying all the wrong things. The more he spoke the deeper the hole he dug.

"We decided to stay over ... so much to talk about. We got along so well ... so compatible, you know?" He was drowning. "We came here and had dinner in the hotel. We both had fish. And Lloyd really knows his way around a wine list."

"Did he fuck you?"

The question hit Bob like a hammer between the eyes. He was starting to panic. "No. No, of course I would never let anyone ..."

"Did you fuck him?"

Bob visibly shrank, as if the air went out of him. "Yes, sir."

"How many times?"

"Twice, sir."

"Did you sleep together all night?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you hold him all night?"

"Yes, sir."

There was a silence. Bob was aware of Randy clenching his jaw and gripping the steering wheel hard in his fists. Suddenly he turned on the ignition and the truck sped out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires.

They careened through the streets of San Bernardino. No words were spoken but the air in the truck was heavy, like the oppressive heat before a storm. On the outskirts of town as they drove through a desolate warehouse district Randy suddenly pulled the truck over and stopped. He looked straight ahead, raised his hands and banged them on the steering wheel.

"Fuck you, man!" he roared. "Fuck you to hell! I wish to God I had never met you. I was happy before I met you. I was my own man. I knew who I was, what I was. I don't know any more. I can't see me any more, only us. But that's over, man. We're finished."

Bob was shaking with fear but managed to speak. "Randy, I ... don't know what to say. There's no excuse. But we'd been drinking and he was such a decent guy and so lonely ..."

"So it was a mercy fuck?!"

Bob knew there was no point in saying more. A silence again settled over them and they both stared straight ahead. Finally Randy once again surprised Bob. His tone was calm now, even gentle.

"I'm sorry, man. You did the natural thing. You know, deep down I was always aware that this day would come. I always knew I'd lose you to a man like him. I mean, look at you and look at him, driving away in his Mercedes. You're like two peas in a pod. Both successful executives, well dressed, sophisticated ... twin MBA's from Berkeley. Then look at me ... just a fucking construction worker in a tank top."

"But that doesn't mean ..."

"Face it, man, you belong together. You're both on your way up in the world. You're smart, successful executives. You need to be with someone like that, not me. Shit, you need someone who knows his way around a wine list, not some guy who's happy with a six-pack of beer. Look at you man, then look at me ... still in the same filthy old clothes I always wear. When did you last see me wear a shirt, for Christ's sake?"

"STOP!" Bob shouted. He couldn't take any more. "You got it all wrong. I don't care about all those things ... the suits, the college degrees, the Mercedes, the wine. It's you I want, man." He started to break down. "Since I met you my life has become whole. I need you, man. I can't live without you.'

"Well you're gonna have to, pal. I had plenty of time to think in that parking lot and I worked it all out. I'm leaving. I'll take Pablo with me and I'll start over ... try to be a good dad for him. You can have the house ... share it with Mark ... and Lloyd if you want. I won't stand in your way."

Panic stabbed at Bob like a knife. His vision blurred. He strained to collect his thoughts. "No, Randy, please. Please, sir. I'll do anything to keep you. Punish me, thrash me, hurt me, I don't care as long as I can stay with you."

"Fuck you, man," Randy growled quietly.

Bob turned to him. "Look at me, Randy. Please, please, look at me." Randy finally turned to face him and the look of infinite sadness in the pale blue eyes broke Bob's heart. "Randy, we've had fights before, and once when it was over you asked me to promise never to leave you, no matter what happened. Well now I'm asking you the same thing, begging, pleading." Tears started to flow down his cheeks. "Please let me make amends. Please don't leave me, sir."

As Randy stared into the pleading, moist, brown eyes something happened. It had happened before. The look that passed between became a union of souls, mysterious, beyond comprehension. It was what had joined them the day they first met and held them together, united, ever since.

"Fuck you, man," Randy said again and started the engine.

The truck sped back toward the 10-Freeway. Once again Bob was in for a surprise. When Randy drove onto the freeway it was not the westbound on-ramp back to Los Angeles. It was the eastbound ... toward the desert. But nothing was said. Bob was rigid with fear, expectation, hope.

Randy drove fast, breaking all the speed limits. The 10 opened up when it reached the desert and, just before Palm Springs, the truck exited the freeway onto Twentynine Palms Highway toward Morongo. In twenty minutes Randy bounced off onto a side road, drove deeper into the desert. The road became a sandy track and the truck finally pulled off to the side.

After the speed and the roar of the road the silence was broken only by the wind blowing over the empty expanse of sand. As the men got out of the truck the fierce desert heat hit them in the face. It was desolate here, nothing but sand for miles, no buildings, no people ... except two. Two men who faced each other, alone in the wilderness, alone with their conflict of anger and fear. Randy looked into Bob's eyes.

"Part of me wants to hurt you, man, and, God help me, part still loves you."

"Yes, sir," Bob whispered.

"I'm not jealous of you and Lloyd. I don't get jealous. I get mad."

"Yes, sir."

"You know I have to hurt you, Bob. It's all I know how to do."

"It's what I need, sir. I'm ashamed. I know I have to pay for what I did."

Randy spun round and pulled from the back of the truck a long length of nylon rope. He reached down to Bob's hands and tied them tightly together, wrist against wrist. The other end of the rope he tied to the tailgate of the truck. He gazed into Bob's face, then put his hand behind his head, pulled it forward and kissed him savagely on the mouth, grinding their lips together.

"Is that he how kissed you, asshole?"

"No, sir. Never like that."

His eyes blazed. "Fuck you, man. Fuck you!"

He jumped into the cab and started the engine. He steered off the road and headed toward the open desert. Behind the truck the rope tightened and Bob's arms were pulled out straight in front of him. His wrists were yanked forward and he stumbled after the truck as it moved over the sand.

The heavy-duty 4-wheel-drive bounced over the sand, faster and faster. Behind it Bob had to run to keep up as the rope pulled him forward. There was no-one to see, but it would have made an awesome sight. In the limitless expanse of the desert a moving truck with a handsome, muscular man tied behind it, trying to keep up, his white dress shirt starting to stick to his sweating, chest and back.

A short while later Randy saw in the shimmering distance a single wooden telegraph pole. It had once been part of a phone line strung to a remote house, long since abandoned. Now the weathered pole stood alone, forlorn and incongruous in this unforgiving landscape of sand and scrub. Randy aimed in that direction. He looked in the rear view mirror and saw Bob being pulled along, struggling to keep up and stay upright.

Once again his anger surged and he growled softly, "Fuck you man. You want to pay for what you did? OK, asshole ... here goes." His foot pressed hard on the accelerator and the truck lurched forward, gaining speed. The rope tugged hard on Bob's wrists and he knew he was lost ... he could not keep up. He ran faster but lost his balance and fell forward into the burning sand. Randy was relentless and did not slow down.

The big muscle man was dragged through the sand. His shirt quickly ripped and started to peel from his chest. He lost his shoes and his pants were shredded as the sand rubbed and chafed against his struggling, suffering body. His face coated with grit Bob gasped for breath. He felt the hot sand scraping against his near naked chest, his legs and his crotch, grating against his cock. The friction and the heat amazingly caused his cock to stiffen despite the pain.

His clothes in shreds the near naked body builder was being pulled helplessly over the desert floor, his body writhing, heaving, twisting through the sand. The tortured man looked up in agony toward the back of the truck and he moaned, though no one could hear. "No, please sir. You're ripping my body to shreds. No more. I can't take any more." But the sand coating his mouth stifled him. His shoulder muscles burned, his arms felt they were being wrenched from their sockets. His grazed chest was on fire as the grinding pain intensified, and as he gasped for breath he felt himself losing consciousness.

Dimly he became aware that the truck had stopped. He heard a door slam and saw the boots by his face. He felt his body being lifted up and thrown backward, slamming against a pole. He opened his sand-caked eyes to a sight he had seen before ... pure fury burning in steel blue eyes. His body slumped in complete submission.

A few minutes later Bob became aware of his new predicament. The rope was now around his neck and stretched back ten feet to the pole, where the other end was tightly secured. His wrists were tied behind his back, his arms secured at the elbows so he could not work his hands down and under his feet. He could walk as far as the rope allowed but otherwise he was completely helpless.

Randy stood before him, reached forward and ripped the remaining shreds of his shirt from his chest. He did the same for the strips of his pants that clung to his legs. The muscular man was now a naked prisoner in the vast emptiness of the burning desert. He heard Randy's voice.

"Look at me, asshole." Bob focused on his master's burning eyes.

"I could beat the shit out of you, but that's too easy. I know you can take pain ... Hell you'd get off on it. But you deserve worse. You're gonna know the agony of doubt. So you know what I'm gonna do?"

"No, sir," Bob groaned.

"I'm gonna go away and get drunk, that's what. And I'll leave you here to think ... think about what you did and what your life will be like without me. And when I'm good and drunk I'll think about what comes next. If I decide I never want to see you again I'll have someone, maybe the cops, come and rescue you. If I decide I can still stand the sight of you, I'll come back for you myself. But you'll have plenty of time to wait ... and to wonder."

Randy stood for a moment gazing at the broken, bound man. "And just for old time's sake, I'll leave you with this." His right fist smashed brutally into the naked stomach, making Bob double over and fall to his knees. He lowered his head in abject misery as Randy jumped into the truck and roared away.

The mid-day sun beat down mercilessly on the naked prisoner in the empty desolation of the unforgiving desert. His only companion was the wind that blew relentlessly over the infinite sand. Desperately he paced in a mindless panic. When he walked forward he felt the rope pull at his neck. He tugged again and again until his neck was chafed. He pulled at his wrists but his hands and arms were securely tied. His muscles strained and flexed ... but it was no use. The big body builder was helpless, bound naked to the pole, alone in the blazing desert sun.

For hour after hour he endured the furnace heat that scorched the scraped, grazed muscles of his tortured body. Sweat poured off him, mixing with the coating of sand so streams of mud flowed down his face and body.

But worse than his physical suffering was what Randy had described as the `agony of doubt.' Bob knew Randy was serious about his threat to leave him. He knew his master well and had seen the fury in his eyes. He knew that nobody could betray a man like him without paying a price.

The broken man mouthed silent appeals for mercy. He would do anything, anything to have his master return to him. The suspense burned into his mind more brutally than the desert sun scorched his naked body.

Hours later the naked man was on his knees in a daze of fear and despair. He had been forsaken. Paranoia gripped him ... he would never see Randy again. In the ferocious heat he started to hallucinate. He looked up and gazed at the infinite expanse of sand shimmering in the heat. He fantasized that he saw a figure in the far distant haze. But this was the desert ... it must be mirage.

But it wasn't his imagination. It was real. As the approaching figure grew larger a wave of panic seized him ... it must be a stranger sent to release him. Then he sobbed in relief. He recognized the long strides, the tall, muscular silhouette. Tears poured down his cheeks and he closed his eyes, close to collapse, and waited.

"Get up." He could have shouted with joy to hear the familiar, savage growl of the man he loved. Exhausted as he was, he sprang to his feet and looked into the pale blue eyes he knew so well. But they were expressionless. He held his breath. Randy gazed into the fearful face and finally spoke.

"You say you really need me in your life."

"Yes, sir."

"Then show me how much." Quickly Randy untied Bob's wrists and his arms hung free. "Let me see you reach out to me."

Bob opened his eyes wide and took in the full glorious image of the man before him. He reached out and touched his chest, running his hands down the sweat-stained tank top. He felt his cock get hard. The relief of being able to touch Randy's flesh left him breathless.

"Take it off," Randy growled.

Confused for a moment Bob hesitated, then he knew. He grabbed the thin tank and ripped it hard. It fell away from Randy's broad shoulders and dropped down around his waist. Shirtless, now, Randy held his arms wide and slowly began to walk backward.

"Come on, man. Touch me. Show me how much you need me. Bob walked forward, his arms before him, but then the rope tightened and he felt it pull at his neck. He strained to walk further but the rope was stretched tight.

"Come on, man. Touch my body. Show me, man. You said you loved me."

Desperate now Bob strained to reach forward and touch the man he worshipped. He saw the shirtless torso gleaming with sweat in the hot sun, watched the muscles flex, saw the glorious, rugged face just out of his reach. He strained more, his arms outstretched, making the rope tighten around his neck.

He gasped, breathless as he managed to utter. "Please, sir. I love you. I need you, sir."

But the rope bit into his neck, choking him. Veins stood out on his face and neck as he began to gag and his vision blurred. All he saw was the hazy image of the man he loved, worshipped ... but couldn't reach.

He was desperate to touch him. He would do anything. The rope was tight around his neck, his body became rigid, it shuddered, and his head started to spin. Then he screamed, he convulsed ... and a huge spray of semen burst from his raging cock. It poured from his straining body and fell to the ground, absorbed instantly by the hot desert sand.

Slowly the exhausted man regained his breath, his vision became focused and his body stopped shaking. He looked up and saw the shadow of a smile cross Randy's face. Bob was in another world now. He watched as the muscle stud pulled off the remaining shreds of his shirt, kicked off his boots and stepped out of his work pants. He was naked now. Bob gasped at what came next.

Randy fell on his knees in front of him, leaned back on his heels, stretched out his arms and gazed up at him. He was displaying his glorious naked body, offering it to him. He spoke evenly.

"Now. Do it again ... cum again."

Bob was startled by the sudden command. He had only just shot his load in a massive orgasm and now he had to cum again? Impossible. But it wasn't. He looked down at the magnificent naked man, kneeling before him, his face and body gleaming in the now setting sun.

Bob put his hand round his cock and felt it stiffen instantly. He had to show Randy, to prove himself to the man he had betrayed. He stroked his cock; it grew harder and harder. He spoke to his master who was prostrate before him.

"I love you, sir. You're my life. I can't live without you."

"Then show me."

Bob screamed, "Yes, sir," and shot another huge jet of creamy liquid. This time it was not wasted in the desert sand. It splashed heavily onto the sculpted face, the shoulders, chest and stomach of the naked muscle god kneeling beneath him. As he watched his own juice pour down the body he saw in amazement a wide, gleaming smile spread over Randy's face.

Randy stood up and spoke.

"On your knees."

Bob obeyed instantly and his naked master towered over him. Wordlessly Randy took hold of his own cock and began to stroke it. It didn't take long. Randy gazed steadily down at his prisoner, the rope still tied round his neck. He was his slave ... he owned him. The man could not live without him. Now he would take possession of him once and for all.

He stopped still. Total silence. And suddenly cum spurted from his cock, pouring down over his slave's face and body. Their eyes locked together and in that moment they both knew that this was a baptismal act of forgiveness, ownership and supreme control. Bob gazed up in awe at the man he lived for ... his master.

The sun had set, the sky was dark. Bob was lying on the sand, the rope still round his neck. But he didn't care. His master was lying with him, his arms around him. Both were still naked. They didn't speak as they gazed into each other's eyes. Eventually Bob broke the silence.

"Thank you for coming back for me."

"I had to. You should have known that."

There was another silence. Then Bob asked hesitantly, "What will you do to Lloyd, sir?"

Randy smiled. "You know better than to ask me a question like that, asshole."

"Sorry, sir."

Bob turned over and pushed his back closer against Randy, who said softly in his ear. "But there is one thing you should know. I told you a lie earlier. I said I was happier before I met you. That was a lie. Truth is, buddy, I didn't know happiness until I knew you ... even when you fuck up."

Bob smiled as Randy folded him tight in his arms. And together they slept under the glittering star canopy of the silent desert.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength - Part 51