A TRIAL OF STRENGTH – PART 611 by Rob Williams
CHAPTER 611 – "THE COP'S REMORSE – THE GYPSY'S REVENGE"
IN THIS CHAPTER
After a traumatic event at work, the cop Mark gets home in a rage and attacks several boys in the tribe. After doing painful penance to those he injured, the cop finally begs forgiveness from the tribe's leaders – tough gypsy Randy and his handsome lover Bob. The savage gypsy growls, "Seems like this muscle cop needs to have that arrogance knocked out of him. On your knees, officer." ________________________________________________________________
<><> IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER <><>
Life among the tribe had settled into a peaceful routine, which included Uncle Mike, who was living with them while he recovered from complex surgery on his leg after his car accident.
However, as so often in this group of assertive men, the calm had been shattered, but this time from an unusual source – the normally confident motorcycle cop Mark. He'd had a traumatic day when he arrested two sixteen-year-old kids for stealing from cars. But when one of them pulled a gun, a back-up cop had shot him in self-defense.
When the muscled blond cop came home his buildup of tension erupted. In a fit of rage he injured and insulted several of the boys in the tribe. But he paid a heavy price.
His lover, the young surfer Jamie, and Jamie's boyfriend Felipe administered the punishment Mark craved. They put him through a grueling ritual of sexual denial and frustration, and the shirtless cop ended up sobbing and broken on his knees.
The trauma over, Mark lay on the bed recovering, with the boys lying on either side of him, propped on their elbows smiling down at him. Jamie was the first to speak. "Did that do the trick, sir?"
Mark managed a smile. "You guys are amazing ... just what I needed. It helped a whole lot."
"Sir," Felipe frowned, "does that mean we can put all this behind us, water under the bridge, and get back to loving each other? I really hope so."
"If you guys feel you can do that, so can I, at least as far as we three are concerned. But out there, I got a whole lot of bridges to mend. First comes young Brandon who I treated shamefully." (In his rage Mark had overturned the boy's wheelchair and sent him sprawling on the ground.) "And of course I have to apologize and make peace with his man Pete."
"Sir," Jamie said, "Pete and Brandon are very easy-going and peace-loving. Ranger Pete is in law enforcement himself and understands the stress you went through. I think they'll be happy to accept your apology and let bygones be bygones."
Mark sighed. "Mike won't be so ready to forgive, though, `cos he heard the things I said to you, Felipe, about your caring for him. (Uncle Mike, immobilized by having his leg propped horizontal in a cast was being supported and cared for by Felipe in their apartment.) "Mike may even think he really is in the way here, and partly responsible for all the drama. He's like a father to us all and he can be a tough nut to crack.
"Then comes Bob and Randy," referring to the tribe's leaders. "Bob will be lenient, I think, but Randy's another story. You know how he reacts when he sees a man hurt a boy – it's like a red flag to a raging bull and his only impulse is to beat the guy up. If that's what he wants, I'm ready to take it."
Jamie said, "Sir, I don't think Bob would let him do that. The next hurdle, though, is dinner. Are you ready to face the crowd?"
"Hmm ..." Mark said uncertainly.
"It won't be so bad, sir," Felipe said cheerfully. "We'll be there supporting you, and if they see that things are settled with us, that will count for a lot."
"Guys, with you behind me, I think I can face anything. All I need is your forgiveness."
Jamie kissed his cheek. "You already have that, sir, after what we put you through here."
Felipe grinned. "It may have been tough, but it was also kinda sexy, don't you think?"
========= CHAPTER 611 =========
<><> THE COP MENDS BROKEN BRIDGES <><>
After his irrational and harmful outburst of suppressed tension, the cop Mark had made his peace with the young men he loved – Jamie and Felipe. As he lay in bed with them, after an erotic scene of sexual retribution, he talked about what he must do next – making amends to the people he injured most, physically or emotionally
That list included Uncle Mike, who was living temporarily with them after major surgery on his broken leg. Then, young Brandon and his man, Ranger Pete. And maybe toughest of all, the tribe's leaders Bob and Randy.
"Guys, I will join you all for dinner," Mark said, "and bite the bullet to show my remorse to the whole tribe. But before that I have to see Mike right away, `cos I suspect he was especially hurt by my outburst. He heard me tell you, Felipe, that you should be paying more attention to me, not to him. That might lead him to think he is in the way, and partly responsible for this whole thing."
Felipe was helping take care of Mike while confined to a wheelchair post-surgery, with his leg in a cast. But Mark was right – the normally independent Uncle Mike was indeed concerned about being in everyone's way and taking up too much of their time.
"You have time right now," Jamie said, "`cos dinner won't be for at least an hour. Except that Mike and Larry are not in our guestroom at the moment."
"Where are they?" Mark asked.
Felipe frowned, "Earlier I, er, glimpsed Will wheeling Mike toward the gate leading to Will's dad Seth's house. Not sure why, though."
"Hm, looks ominous. I gotta go sort this out." Mark got off the bed and threw his discarded uniform aside, which he had been wearing ever since he arrived from work all stressed out. He reached for his jeans and sneakers and a plain white T-shirt that hugged his muscular torso, making the boys' cocks stir, even though they had cum so recently in Mark's mouth.
"We'll tidy up in here while you're gone, sir," Jamie said. "The room's a total mess."
Mark grinned, "That's what your get for tying up a cop and forcing him to watch you two make love. See you later guys."
Mark made his way across the garden to the gate in the hedge separating the compound from Seth's small house. Seth was one of the construction site managers, a tough, wild-looking hunk with the muscular build of a longtime construction worker. His pride and joy was his redheaded stepson Will, one of the house chefs, who was with Seth now as Mark came in. Uncle Mike, in his wheelchair, was there too, along with his boy Larry.
"Hey, Mark," Seth smiled. "Er, Will, I think Mark probably needs to talk to Mike privately, so let's make ourselves scarce in the next room."
"No, wait Seth," Mark said. "What I have to say I want all you guys to hear. I need to express my remorse to as many guys as possible, not sweep anything under the mat."
Mike cut in, "Mark, before you go into a string of breast-beating mea-culpa's let me cut it short by saying this. I know what set off all your stress and I just can't imagine what it's like watching a sixteen-year-old kid get gunned down by a cop."
"And it was all my fault, Mike."
"It was not your fault, officer, let's get that clear. I've heard the whole story. You just called for backup and you did not pull the trigger. And the backup cop who did was protecting you all from a panicked kid pointing a loaded gun at you. Bob tells me that the boy's wound was serious but he's recovering in the hospital."
"That's not the point, Mike. There was no excuse for me doing what I did when I got home ..."
"Let's not talk about excuses, guilt and punishment, boy – let's talk about the easiest way out of this. Like I said, I can't imagine the stress you were under, nobody can. But one thing's for sure. When you came home looking for Jamie or Felipe to ease your tension, the reason Felipe wasn't there was because he was taking care of me as usual. If the boy had been there waiting for you, you would have made love to him and none of this would have happened."
"Mike, you are not to blame ..."
"Shut up and listen, boy. I'm trying to put all this right, so don't interrupt. I'm older than you are ... well, by a year or two," Mike grinned, lightening the tone of the conversation.
"Bottom line is this, Mark. I think it would be good for Larry and me to give you and your boys a little space. I've been talking to Seth and he has this spare room that would do fine for us. I need less help than I did at first, and Felipe can assist me here just as easily."
"Mike, please don't do this. Call it selfishness on my part, but having you living with us, caring for you, would give me a chance to show you I love you, and that everything I blurted out was crazy bullshit. Please, Mike, give me another chance."
For once Mike was silenced and, when he at last found his voice he sounded placated. "Let me talk to Larry here and I'll let you know, Mark. I don't want this to blow into a whole big issue when basically there's nothing there. We'll talk again at dinner."
Larry smiled at his lover Mike with even more affection and respect than usual. He knew that this was Mike's subtle way of lightly punishing Mark and making a point – even if only for an hour or so. Of course Mike would relent. He was like a father to these guys – calling even the senior men "boy".
Mike said, "In the meantime, Mark have you made your peace with Ranger Pete yet, after what you did to his boy, Brandon?"
"Next on my list, Mike. I still can't believe that I actually kicked over his wheelchair and sent that sweet kid sprawling on the ground. Not exactly honoring the cop's motto, `to protect and serve'."
"Ah, Ranger Pete will go easy on you, stud. That man has a heart of gold."
<><> AN INVITATION MARK CANNOT REFUSE <><>
Mike's prediction was correct.
Mark used the street exit of Seth's house. He wanted to avoid any of the men gathering for dinner – that confrontation would come later. He crossed the street to Pete and Brandon's house where he was greeted with a warm smile from Pete, sitting with Brandon. "Howdy Mark. We've been expecting you. We were just having a pre-dinner drink. Join us?" "Thanks Pete. Beer maybe?"
Brandon wheeled himself to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of beer. He twisted the top off and presented it to Mark, who said, "Jeez, I wish you guys were not being so nice to me. I sure don't deserve it after what I did to you, Brandon. You don't know how much I regret taking out my stress on you of all people. It sounds real feeble to say I'm sorry, but I do humbly apologize."
Brandon smiled, "Apology accepted, sir. And that's that."
Mark," Pete said, "Brandon and I have, of course, been talking about this whole mess and I was reminding him about an incident I had described before. Happened a few years ago. I was on a routine patrol of the forest with a fellow Ranger, and we came across two kids who'd made a campfire. Stupid, dangerous thing to do, not to mention illegal, but it happens all the time.
"Usually, confronted by Rangers, guys apologize and dampen the fire. But these kids were defiant, so my buddy pulled out his pad to write them a citation. One of the young fools pulled a gun and my buddy shot him in the leg. We called for backup and the medics, and they were taken away. It wasn't as serious as your incident, Mark, but it left me shaken, a complete mess.
"I came home in search of my boy here, and thankfully he was home. Making love with him calmed me down, the perfect antidote to the ugliness in the forest. But if Brandon had not been here, I'm not sure what I would have done. So in a way I can relate, Mark."
"Thanks for saying that, Pete, but it don't excuse the vicious way I treated Brandon."
"Sir," Brandon smiled. "As you see, I'm alive and kicking ... well," he grinned, "not exactly kicking, any more than Uncle Mike can right now – I can relate to him, as Pete says. Anyway, sir, what I'm saying is the same as I said to Pete. I want this all to go away, no hard feelings. We've put it behind us and want you to do the same, sir."
"I agree," Pete said, then chuckled. "I pretty much have to when my boy gets that determined look in his eye. Let's me know he's the boss around here. We've actually moved on to planning a trip we'll take soon, to go fishing in the lake in the forest. And we'd really like you, Jamie and Felipe to join is, work permitting."
Mark smiled. "What is it about this house? All peace and light. Like you said, Pete, a perfect antidote to the ugly part of life. And I think I can speak for Jamie and Felipe ... we'd love to go fishing with you guys."
"Sir, you are coming to dinner this evening, aren't you? Pete and I were ready to go across, so maybe you'd like to come with us."
Yeah, that's my next hurdle – facing the whole tribe. Showing up with you two would sure take the edge off. If they see you've forgiven me they might follow your example. You set an example for all of us, always – you carry that peace and light with you. I love you guys."
A short time later, Mark walked into the garden with Pete on one side, Brandon on the other – and he sure was glad of their company. Almost the whole clan was gathered round the long table on the lawn and they all looked up. But they quickly averted their eyes and went back to their conversations, many of them not sure how to react to Mark, especially those who had not yet seen him since the dramatic events of the day. They waited to take their cue from others.
And those cues came thick and fast. Pete put his arm over Mark's shoulders as they walked in, and Jamie and Felipe made room between them at the table. "Over here, sir," Jamie shouted, a resounding note of confidence. There were several shouts of "Hi, guys", directed at the three of them rather than at Mark personally.
"The most crucial endorsement came from Uncle Mike, sitting in his wheelchair, the father figure of the tribe who set the tone for the rest of them. "Hey Mark, come sit with your boys, opposite Larry and me. As Mark took his place Mike said, loud enough for the others to hear, "If we're living together we might as well eat together."
This was the clincher. A rumor had gone around that Mike would be moving out of Mark's apartment and into Seth's house, but this put the kibosh on that story and confirmed that Mike had made peace with Mark. That, coupled with Pete's obvious moral support, and the pleasure on the faces of Jamie and Felipe, indicated that the drama was winding down.
The buzz of conversation around the table grew noticeably louder as everyone relaxed and dinner turned into the usual boisterous affair. There was, however, one exception to the generally happy reaction – boss Randy.
He was, as always, sitting with Bob, who smiled warmly at Mark, obviously happy that all seemed to be resolved. Randy, however, was mostly unsmiling. Not exactly surly, but it was evident to an astute observer that he was not entirely on board with the general approval of Mark. Bob was an acute observer and knew that some fancy footwork would be required later.
Actually, that came sooner rather than later, when Randy leaned over to Mark and growled softly, "Dude, after dinner, you wanna come have a drink upstairs with Bob and me, just the three of us?"
The request sounded more like an order, or at least an invitation Mark couldn't refuse. Bob and Mike had overheard and they both knew what was on Randy's mind. Bob smiled encouragingly and Uncle Mike murmured, "Sounds good to me."
That basically clinched it, and Mark knew he had to face the music sooner or later. Boss Randy's seal of approval, if given, would finally put an end to the whole sorry saga. Mark knew it and the whole tribe knew it."
"Actually," Mark said, "I was thinking it would be good for Jamie and Felipe if they slept together tonight. Still a lot of rough edges, and I want those two to make sure their friendship is as solid as ever. So sure, I'll come for a drink."
Mike grinned knowingly at Randy. He understood the big gypsy better than most, and both he and Randy knew that the invitation was for more than a simple after-dinner drink.
<><> THE INEVITABLE FACE-OFF <><>
The close relationship between Bob, Randy and Mark had been forged along a tortuous path. Randy and Bob were already lovers when Mark had come on the scene years ago. Randy was instantly resentful of the handsome cop, fearing he would steal Bob's affections away from him.
He had some reason for this concern, as Bob did fall in love with Mark, though his deepest and unbreakable love was still for Randy. At that period they were known as the `tortured trio' as Randy's animosity toward the handsome cop often broke into physical aggression, much to Bob's dismay.
But, surprisingly, the question had resolved itself when Randy finally admitted that he too was in love with Mark, and they became known thereafter as the `triumphant trio'. But the three-way love affair could not entirely remove its earlier contentious roots, and the deepest passion was still between the eternal lovers Bob and Randy.
These underlying tensions naturally resurfaced in the current raw circumstances. Randy's other passion, second only to Bob, was his love and protection of the boys, stemming from his years in Texas when he fiercely protected his younger brothers. And now, to hear of Mark's ill treatment of Felipe and young Brandon was, as Mark had predicted, a red rag to a bull. Randy always had to have the final say.
So when dinner was over and the group started to disburse, Mark stood up and hugged Jamie and Felipe. "I want you guys to make love tonight `cos together you are my rock, and a night together will make sure you two are rock solid."
"Thank you, sir," Jamie smiled. "Will, er ... will you be OK, sir?"
"Sure I will, kiddo. I've faced off like this before and we all know it had to happen. You two guys began my rehabilitation, followed by Mike, Pete and the whole group here. But it's important to me that I make my peace with Bob and Randy too. And anyway," Mark grinned, "we all know that Randy has to have the last word."
As the boys walked together indoors, Mark shook hands with Pete and Brandon. "Thank you, guys, for being so generous to me, and helping me transition back into the good graces of the dinner crowd here."
He turned last to Mike and his boy Larry. "I'm glad you decided to stay living with us while you're here, Mike. That was important for me, and for my re-acceptance by the group in general. You know they all take their cue from you."
"Ah, I was never gonna walk out on you, boy, you should know that. You've had a really rough time, officer, starting with that ugly incident at work. I know stuff like that is a hazard of a cop's job, but still it's especially tough on a decent man like yourself. I hope you know that the whole clan is rooting for you now, and that Bob will be on your side, and by your side, when you face Randy. That face-off had to come, I suppose. The King of the Gypsies always has to give his final seal of approval – in his own special way."
<><> THE FEUDAL LORD <><>
When the trio went into the master bedroom Bob knew this was a pivotal moment in Mark's rehabilitation and it would take all the finesse he could muster. Above all he didn't want this to degenerate into a shouting match. He quickly brought brandy and Scotch from the drinks cabinet and they sat around the low coffee table, Bob on the couch, Randy and Mark in armchairs at either end.
He poured brandy for himself and Mark, and scotch for Randy. He had found in the drinks cabinet a bottle of Randy's favorite Johnny Walker Blue Label, which Bob guessed young Will, as intuitive as ever, must have brought up from the stash he kept hidden in the kitchen for Randy's exclusive use. He smiled to himself. The boys were so often one step ahead.
Bob knew that he first had to defuse the tension in the room before Randy charged in, in his bull-in-a-china-shop way. Randy would resent Bob taking charge, he thought, but too bad.
"OK guys," he began, "let's not beat around the bush, we all know why we're here. We know, Mark, that you have been making the penance rounds of guys you hurt the most, and the mood at dinner made the tribe's general forgiveness clear. They would like to call it `case closed', and put the whole unfortunate story behind us.
But for us three it is not case closed, is it, because Randy and I have not had our say. And as a loving threesome that is essential. Randy, I know you don't like me putting myself first, but I need to get this off my chest."
"Looks like I don't have a choice," Randy growled sullenly. "Talk all you want, I know what I have to do, and that ain't gonna change whatever fine speech you give."
Bob sighed. "Mark, Randy is right that no man should do what you did to those boys. You know that too and I know you regret it. That said, there are mitigating circumstances. What you experienced after the arrest, watching that young kid gunned down, affected you deeply, largely because of your affection for our own boys. As I believe you said, the crazy kid could have been Jamie years ago when he was running wild on the streets.
"You came home in a towering rage, something we are no stranger to even in our small family." Bob looked meaningfully at Randy and they all knew what he referring to.
"So you came home expecting Jamie, or his substitute Felipe, to be waiting for you, so you could unload your stress by fucking one of them. As it happened neither of the boys was there. That was the last straw and you hit the roof. When Felipe did come in minutes later you attacked him and managed to insult Mike into the bargain.
"And that, I think, is where the core of the problem lies, Mark – your expectation that one the boys should always be there, naked on the bed, waiting to serve you by offering his ass.
While it's true they do it out of love for you, are they not allowed to have a life of their own that does not revolve around your personal needs? You admire them growing into independent young men – Jamie with his new and exciting life using his surfing skills on Grady's movie, and Felipe as our assistant chef whom I had personally assigned to take care of Mike. Now they are working men, what should they do? Quit the jobs they love to run home to serve you?"
"But, Bob, when I come home stressed out from work ..."
"I know, Mark. That tradition began when Jamie was first your boy, but now he's an independent grown man. I understand that you need a way of unloading that tension. But does it still always have to be on your boy's ass?
"Look, when you came home this time, the final explosion of anger was because neither of the boys was there to serve you. But there were other options. You could always come to me for support, or Randy, or in this case even Uncle Mike. Or you could drive straight up to Doc Steve. Heaven knows we all understand stress buildup, and we all love you, Mark."
Bob smiled. "It's actually kind of medieval – used to be called the `droit du seigneur' – the legal right in medieval Europe that allowed feudal lords to have sex with whatever subservient young women they chose, whenever they felt the need. Is that how you see you boys, subservient?"
"Bob stop. Please." There were tears in Mark's eyes. Bob's comments were even more painful coming from a man he loved, respected and trusted. "You're absolutely right. That's something that began years ago and I never stopped to think about it. Must be the cop in me, the modern equivalent of the feudal lord. I owe those guys, Jamie especially, a major apology."
"As I understand it, the boys already took care of that, in a rather stunning way, tying you up and forcing you to watch them make love, with you unable to join in. That must have been agony, as you always feel free to join in. "Those boys are smart, they went straight for the jugular – turning the tables on the feudal lord and his right to have sex whenever he wanted. Huh, that would be quite a sight – the powerful lord in chains forced to watch his rival fuck the girl he had chosen."
Mark managed a wry smile. "I don't feel like much of a lord right now, Bob. I feel small and ashamed. I have made amends to lots of guys today, but I knew you two would be the toughest. Thing is, I'm in love with both your guys, we're all alpha men, and I don't want to lose your love and respect. I have to show you I'm not that selfish feudal lord – have to have it knocked out of me, somehow."
"And that's where I come in." Randy spoke at last.
<><> THE COP KNEELS TO THE GYPSY <><>
Randy had been sprawled in his chair listening to Bob's `fine speech' as he had called it. Now it was his turn.
"Bob has a fine way with words, and everything he said was true. But I don't go in for all that analysis stuff ... I act. To me it's simple. You fucked up, Mark, big-time. You lost your cool and attacked Felipe, your own boy, for god's sake. Then that sweet, brave kid Brandon – you upturned his wheelchair and threw him on the ground. Luckily he wasn't injured. If he had been I'd have made sure you were the one on the ground – unconscious.
"I know, I know, I'm a fine one to talk. God knows I've gone on a rampage or two myself, and I paid a heavy price. But you know the way I think ... it's real simple. A guy fucks up, he gets punished, apologizes and that's that, it's over. It's the way of the tribe.
"I could tie you up too, like the boys did, and I could slug and whip you, like the boys didn't. But like you said, what you need is to have that arrogant-cop, lord-of-the-manor bullshit knocked out of you. I could do it with fists or whips, but there are better ways to humiliate a cop. And that is what you want, am I right?"
"You know it is, Randy," Mark said meekly. "I need it."
"Right. So stand up, officer." Mark got to his feet. Randy joined Bob on the couch and pushed the table away from in front of them. Mark stood facing them, several feet away. Randy casually stretched an arm over the back of the couch across Bob's shoulder and said, "I think you know what to do, man."
Mark had been wearing cargo shorts at dinner, with sneakers and a polo shirt. Now he pulled the shirt off over his head, kicked off his unlaced sneakers and dropped his shorts. He stood naked before them, his long dick swinging between his legs.
"See that shirt on the chair over there? It's your cop uniform shirt you left here after sex one night. Get it." Mark walked over to the chair, grabbed the shirt and resumed his position in front of them. "Put the shirt on – leave it open and put your hands behind your back.."
Bob and Randy stared at the muscular blond cop, naked except for his black cop shirt open over his bulging pecs, short sleeves tight round is biceps, hands clasped behind his back in a submissive pose. Randy moaned, "Damn, so fucking hot, man. Kinda sorry we have to do this to an alpha stud like you, but you asked for it."
Mark stood waiting for his punishment, which didn't come right away. Instead Randy turned his head and grinned at Bob sitting next to him. He unbuttoned Bob's shirt and pushed it back off his shoulders. He pulled his own T-shirt off and the two lovers sat stripped to the waist, both barefoot in beltless jeans.
Mark stood motionless staring at the macho lovers, and his cock began to stiffen. Ignoring him, Randy smiled at Bob. "I swear, dude, you get more gorgeous every time I look at you." He leaned over and locked mouths with his lover in a grinding kiss, rubbing his hand over the chiseled contours of Bob's bare chest.
Bob responded likewise and clamped his hand over Randy's pecs, still kissing voraciously. Mark's cock rose higher. Was he getting the same treatment as the boys hade given him – watching two men he loved making love, and him forbidden to join in?
No. that was not Randy's style, copying others – he was an original. There was more to come, Mark was sure. And he was right. When Randy and Bob broke apart they stared at Mark and Randy grabbed the bulge in his own jeans. Bob followed suit and they sat rubbing their bulges with one hand, reaching over with the other and squeezing the other's nipples.
Mark's cock was now iron-hard and he wanted desperately to join them. Surprisingly Randy granted his silent wish. "You want this bad, don't you, officer."
"Yeah," Mark groaned.
"Let's try that again, officer. You want these cocks, don't you, stud?"
"Yes, sir, I do."
"That's better. On your knees, cop."
Mark knew Randy was pulling out all the humiliation stops, he was a master at that. And it was liberating for him to obey the rugged gypsy, even if it meant crawling to him. Which is what came next.
"On your belly, officer." Mark lay flat on the carpet, his hard cock pressed against his stomach. "Show us how bad you want it."
As Mark reached forward his sleeves pulled higher, exposing his biceps, and his shirt pulled up to expose his bare ass. Bob moaned, "wow", and Randy grinned. As in most things, he was doing this partly to impress Bob, proving that he was the tribe's real topman.
Slowly Mark dragged himself forward, his cock scraping painfully over the rough carpet, and the men's bulges grew harder as they watched the slow degradation of the handsome blond cop.
When at last he reached the men his face was over their bare feet and he heard Randy say, "Go for it, dude." Mark extended his tongue and licked Randy's feet – the arch, the toes, slobbering with the effort. Then he turned to Bob and found even more perverse satisfaction in worshipping the feet of the man he idolized.
"OK, man, go for the gold." Mark grabbed Randy's leg and pulled himself up over his knees to his waist, and clamped his mouth over the bulge in the rough denim. He felt Randy's hands clamp down on the back of his head and press his face into his crotch.
When at last he pulled back, gasping, he moved to Bob and briefly stared up at him. Bob saw the agonized look on the face of the man he loved and his heart went out to him. For a moment Bob wanted to cry out, `no, stop', but he was restrained by his awareness that this humiliation was necessary for Mark to restore his self-esteem in their eyes.
With even more fervor the cop licked and kissed the denim bulge, then pulled down the zipper, reached in, pulled out Bob's rigid cock and swallowed it all the way down his throat. He sucked it eagerly, enjoying the feeling of making love to Bob's cock, even though it was supposed to be part of his punishment.
Randy sensed this and even felt jealous of the passion of Mark's effort. He ripped open his own jeans and pulled out his monster shaft. He grabbed Mark's hair, yanked his face off Bob and rammed it down on his own cock, making him choke. Randy saw Bob's anxious glance and lessened the force of his attack, slowly pulling the cop's face up and down on his cock.
Mark worked on both rock-hard dicks alternately, until Randy allowed him to stop and pull back, panting hard, tears running down his cheeks, spit down his chin.
"Right," Randy said, in full command now, "let's really get down to business. So, the arrogant cop, the demanding lord, has to be cut down to size. Only one way to humiliate a topman who's already on his knees – a spit-roast. Let's take him, buddy."
Randy got to his feet, pulled Mark up and yanked off his cop shirt. Then he forced him to kneel on all fours on the long, low table. He stood behind him and spat on his cock that still protruded out of his jeans like a steel rod. He grabbed the cop's hips in a viselike grip ... and drove the shaft deep in his ass, making him howl in pain.
Randy sneered scathingly, "How's it feel, `my lord', to get your ass speared by the King of the Gypsies?"
Whether the victim intended to reply, or even could, he was stifled by Bob's cock filling his open mouth. And the spit-roast began.
It was a pornographic sight – the naked muscle-cop on full display, kneeling on all fours on the low table, suffering mightily as the rugged gypsy drilled his ass, while the shirtless superman fucked his face.
It was the depth of the cop's humiliation – the leaders' revenge for his disobeying the tribe's rules. The physical pain matched his sense of degradation, both of which he needed, to redeem himself to these alpha males, men he loved but had wronged.
His magnificent body flexed to withstand the attack, muscles rippling in his heaving back. Tears of pain and shame spurted from his eyes, his agonized groans grew louder and his tousled blond hair fell over his tortured face.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, on demeaning display, but the sight of the powerful men he loved, hammering his ass and face, gave him the strength to endure, and he raised his ass to get the full impact of the gypsy's savage cock. He lost track of time as the assault went on until the master put an end to his suffering.
Randy grinned across their victim's back at Bob. "OK, dude, time to have mercy and put an end to his misery, and yours. I know this hurts you as much as him, so let's finish him off."
It took only seconds until Randy gave a triumphant yell and his cock exploded in the cop's ass, while Bob pumped jizz down his throat and he choked it down.
Mark's ravaged body arched and he howled into the gag of Bob's cock as semen blasted from his own cock and splashed down on the table beneath him."
The cop's painful journey to redemption and forgiveness was over.
Bob pulled his cock out, he knelt on the floor and stared anxiously into Mark's blue eyes. "Are you OK, buddy?"
In reply Mark leaned forward and clamped his mouth over Bob's in a long, passionate kiss.
Of course, Randy was not to be left out of this. He pulled his dick out and lifted Mark bodily off the table and onto his feet. He rewarded him with his dazzling gypsy smile and shook Mark's hand. "Fucking awesome, man. Damn, you are one tough, gorgeous son of a bitch. Proud to be your buddy. You're definitely one of us, stud."
He pulled Mark into a powerful man-hug and a churning kiss. When at last they broke apart, Randy grinned, "What you need now, buddy, is bed rest." He and Bob helped Mark over to the bed and he sank onto it slowly with an exhausted sigh. Bob and Randy pulled off their jeans and lay down naked on either side of him.
Randy propped himself on his elbow and grinned down at Mark. "This thing has run its course, dude. Like I said, a man fucks up, takes his punishment, which you did magnificently, and that's an end of it. I usually get the final say and the rest of the tribe follows."
"'Cos you are the King of the Gypsies, right?" Bob smiled. "Mark, now that is arrogance."
"And you do arrogance so well, Randy," Mark smiled weakly.
Randy preened. "Yeah, I guess I kinda do, uh?"
"Jeez," Bob sighed and rolled his eyes, making them all laugh.
Randy said, "Thing is, guys, are we three still OK?"
"Stronger than ever I'd say," Mark said.
"Amen to that," Bob smiled. "Er, can you stay the night, Mark?"
"Well, either that or I sleep alone. I told Jamie and Felipe they need a night together to make love and smooth over any remaining rough edges. But I need to talk to them early in the morning and tell them what you talked about, Bob ... me monopolizing them, like that feudal lord."
"Right," Bob smiled. "Tell you what, we'll have them up here for breakfast. I'll call the twins and ask them to alert the guys in the morning, then bring up breakfast for five."
And so it was settled. Everything was settled, the end of a chapter. And the triumphant trio had lived up to its name.
<><> "SOMETHING I SAID?" <><>
In the morning after a sound night's sleep, it all worked as planned. Jamie and Felipe came up with smiles of relief, and as they all sat at table Mark said, "Felipe, I remember something you asked me yesterday – seems like so long ago. When we had finished that punishment scene, you asked, `Does this mean we can put all this behind us, water under the bridge, and get back to loving each other? I really hope so'.
"Well Felipe, it is so. None other than Randy has declared that honor is restored and the whole sorry chapter is closed."
Jamie chuckled, "And if Randy says so, it must be so."
"Damn straight, kiddo," Randy growled. "And don't anyone forget it."
Bob gave an exaggerated eye roll and everyone burst out laughing – except Randy, who didn't get the joke. "What? What? Something I said?" That provoked even more laughter, interrupted by the twins and Will, all bearing breakfast trays.
As they ate hungrily, they really did put it all behind them and talk turned to work and their respective jobs.
Felipe talked about Uncle Mike's progress. "Doctor Chad said that today he can probably lower his bad leg down on the leg rest. It was that horizontal thing that was a real bitch. But he can absolutely put no pressure on the leg. Larry and I are taking him to Chad's hospital today for more X-rays and a checkup, provided the kitchen can still spare me."
Bob smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure they can, Felipe. Uncle Bob's recovery has to be our focus."
Jamie talked excitedly about how Grady's movie was progressing. "But today Grady is shooting scenes in the studio, so there'll be no beach action, and Nate, Eddie and me have the day off."
"Great," Mark smiled, "so maybe you and I can hang out together, Jamie, `cos I have the day off too. It's standard procedure after a shooting for the cops involved to have a few days off until the enquiry happens. But it's a pretty open and shut case, and then it's back to work as usual."
Bob said, "Randy, I wanted to ask you about young Ryan. He's been away from the office a lot, spending most of his time at your warehouse that he is reorganizing with his digital skills. How's that going?"
"Going great, and his man Darius is real proud of him. God, he loves that boy, and Pablo is excited to see his kid Tyler working so well with him. They've almost finished stocking the warehouse with all the spare parts, and it's amazing how Ryan can find anything right away with that electronic tablet of his. Zack told me he's going over there today to pick up some parts, so it's the big guy's turn to be dazzled by Ryan."
Bob was right, but not quite in the way he thought.
<><> CONSTRUCTION BOSS ZACK & THE THAI BOY <><>
Zack was the top man, along with Randy, in the construction company. They were looked on as equals, each of them in charge of one of the two government contracts sites, the company's big money makers.
Like Randy, Zack was one of the few senior men to have a boy who had a boy of his own. Randy's boy Pablo, actually now an assertive young man rather than a boy, had his own boy Tyler whom he had made the warehouse manager. And Zack's boy (man!), the handsome black stud Darius, had his own boy Ryan, the young Thai boy computer genius
Ryan was working alone in the warehouse when Zack came in and looked around with surprise. "Wow, very impressive, you really have this organized, kid. Nothing like the old place where we rummaged though piles of parts until we found the right one – maybe."
"Thank you, sir," Ryan beamed, his cock already hard in his jeans, talking to the muscular black construction boss, working shirtless as usual in black jeans, his strong, square-cut features set off by high cheekbones and his shaved head.
"Were you looking for something in particular?"
"Yeah. I need a fan-belt."
"Sure, sir, no problem. What vehicle is it for?"
"Well, on my site there's an earth mover ..."
"Hold on, sir." Ryan made an entry into the tablet he was holding. "I have all the equipment catalogued in here. Would that be the old yellow one or the smaller red one, sir?"
"Damn, that's amazing. The small one actually."
A few more entries and, "Yes we have those fan-belts in stock. Over there in the corner, column D, second shelf down."
Zack found it right away and laughed, "Damn, it's like magic."
"Computer magic, sir. Darius says I'm a conjurer."
"A real cute conjurer if I may say. Since you came here you've filled out a lot, boy. Under that tight T-shirt you got a hot young body. You been working out?"
"Yes, sir, daily with Darius. He likes me to look good. That's why he bought me these tight black jeans. Says my butt turns him on. I better get back to work, sir."
"Sure, I don't wanna interrupt. Er, OK, if I sit here and watch you work? I wanna learn what this computer stuff is all about."
"Of course sir. There's a bench over there next to the coffee. And there's beer in the locker underneath if you prefer. Help yourself, sir."
Zack grinned – he would love to help himself. He sat and watched the handsome young Thai boy with the almond shaped eyes, delicate features ... and that butt. Darius sure knew what he was doing giving him those jeans.
As he sat watching, Zack stroked the bulge in his own black jeans. It was that time of day when he got horny and often jerked off behind the nearest wall. But why just rub one out with a hand job when you're staring at an ass like that?
Darius wasn't around to ask ... but, heck, he didn't need his own boy's permission. Darius wouldn't mind ... whatever happened. Of course he wouldn't.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 612
Hey guys, this is Rob Williams. I hope that chapter turned you on, 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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