A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 71 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER

The fight was on. The rugged construction worker and superb black stud were to become blood brothers ... but only after they had tested each other's strength in combat. They are evenly matched. "The beautiful bodybuilder, stripped to the waist, beaten half senseless, crawled agonizingly along the ground." But soon his opponent is pleading, "Please, sir. I'm begging you. I can't take any more. You've beaten me. I submit!"

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A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 71

"So you're really gonna do it." Mark grinned at Randy. "Guess it had to happen. You two studs testing each other's strength should be quite a sight. Sorry to miss it."

And so the next morning two motorcycles were throbbing in the driveway, straining like stallions waiting to leap free. Astride one was Zack, the iconic black muscle-god, stripped to the waist, in his usual black jeans tucked into heavy work boots. The construction worker Randy was on the other, in jeans and boots and his old, faded tank top. Bob, Mark and the three boys were staring wide-eyed at this fantasy, a piece of erotic art come to life.

"OK," Randy said to Zack. "You ready, man?"

"Lead the way, stud."

Randy looked at the shirtless man and grinned. Suddenly he pulled his tank top over his head and threw it to the ground. He smiled at Zack, just as Bob grinned at Mark. All four men were acknowledging the first subtle gesture in the contest that was to follow, the first skirmish. Both men were now shirtless, equal ... they had to be. They revved the engines, their tires spun on the gravel and they sped away.

"Well, that's it," Mark said to Bob. "A real trial of strength." He threw his arm round Bob's shoulder. "And you, old buddy, are to be the prize it seems."

Out on the highway it was pure testosterone ... two shirtless, rugged men, almost shoulder to shoulder, feeling the wind whipping at their chests as their speeding bikes roared between their legs. Occasionally they looked over at each other and smiled, their expressions a mix of macho confidence, arrogance, anticipation ... and challenge. It was a challenge they both welcomed, a contest they had been building to ever since their eyes first met.

From the first they both knew instinctively that they had met their equal. Two supremely powerful men, rugged alpha males, they had a huge admiration and respect for each other, which could eventually evolve into a lifelong bond of blood brothers. But this could never happen, they could never move on, until they had tested each other's strength in combat. They were like two bulls pawing the ground, bracing for the inevitable fight.

For Randy it was mostly a need to prove his masculinity to this stunning man, to assert his supremacy, defend his turf. For Zack the goal was much more specific. He was only beginning to explore his sexual feelings for men, but already he felt a powerful, almost magnetic attraction to Randy's lover Bob that was irresistible. He had to have him, or leave the men forever. He knew that Bob belonged to Randy and so Zack had been prepared to go away, but he was persuaded to stay by Randy's astonishing offer. As he rode he vividly recalled Randy's words:

"I've never met anyone like you, Zack," Randy had said. "You and I are cut from the same cloth. And I'll tell you now ... you are one major fucking turn-on ... you excite the hell out of me. There's precious few men I would ever allow even near Bob's ass, but you're one of them. So I am gonna let you fuck Bob. But the price of admission is high. You have to go through me to get to him. I'm gonna damn well make you earn that ass. So, if you're up for this, I'll take you away for the weekend to a place I know and we'll work things out between us."

So the gauntlet had been thrown down, the challenge accepted, and they were on their way. Even now, as they exceeded every speed limit on the freeway, first one would move ahead and the other would immediately draw level. The challenge was in their blood, in every fiber of their hard, muscular bodies. Even so, they felt a natural comradeship, the exultation of the raw maleness that they shared.

Randy felt a need to display this kinship, to show off his stunningly beautiful partner. They had turned off the 10 freeway and taken the 111 through Palm Springs and the more shabby Cathedral City. On the city's industrial edge Randy signaled to Zack, pointing to a flashing sign: `Beer'. They pulled over to a small, nondescript building and parked beside other bikes in the lot. Zack grinned at Randy.

"You've been here before."

"Once," said Randy. "I didn't tell you but I brought Mark out here to the canyon just after we first met." He smiled. "Same kind of circumstances, actually."

"But Mark survived."

"Just barely," Randy laughed. "Anyway, we stopped in here first for a beer, not realizing what it was. Aside from being thirsty, I need to show you off, man. One thing I can tell you ... we won't have to pay for the drinks."

They walked through heavy leather strips hanging over the door and stood still in the near blackness after the blinding desert sun outside. As their eyes became accustomed to the low lighting they walked over to the bar. The bar tender did a double take.

`Well fuck me, handsome," he said to Randy. "Never expected to see you here again, big guy. Where's that sensational blonde muscle god you had with you last time?"

"Traded him in for a new model," Randy grinned. "Not so blonde this time."

The bar tender ran his eyes over the shirtless, muscular black man, taking in his handsome, square-jawed face and spectacular ebony physique. "Jesus, man, that's pornographic." He shook his head and came to his senses. "OK, guys, on the house, of course," and he pushed two beers across the counter.

The two men turned to face the room, leaning their backs against the bar. There was a small crowd of men in the room ... but total silence.

Zack said out of the side of his mouth, "What's going on, buddy?"

"Gay bar," murmured Randy. "It was like this before. See the effect you're having?"

The effect was indeed stunning. The crowd fell silent, gazing at the two men leaning against the bar, both stripped to the waist, one in black Levi's the other in blue jeans, both spectacularly handsome. Their muscular torsos gleamed under the red lighting, chiseled physiques, broad shoulders, bulging pecs, ripped abs, tight waists. They were icons of perfect males.

As the guys in the bar regained their senses snatches of conversation became audible. "Jesus, will you look at that?" "Fucking pornographic ... a total fantasy." "Straight out of Tom of Finland." The bravest of them came over to say hi, and soon the guys were chatting amiably with the good-natured crowd. Zack was uncomfortable at first with the adulation and awe he created, but soon he too felt at ease. There was no question of paying for the drinks. Without doubt, the two men were stars in this small world, men straight out of the pages of erotic art.

"Well you two certainly brought a shot of adrenaline for these guys," the bar tender said. "They'll be jacking off fantasizing about you for weeks. Any time you're passing through town you be sure to drop in. Don't get many guys like you in here. Shit, there aren't any other guys like you."

"Glad to be of service," laughed Randy, and the crowd said their goodbyes.

Out in the parking lot they blinked in the sunlight. "Jesus," said Zack. "That was a trip. Great bunch of guys, though."

"Just wanted to show you the effect you have on guys, man ... put you on display." Randy laughed, "Just don't expect the same awe and reverence from me, asshole."

"Oh, I don't, man. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"Damn right."

They straddled the Harleys and hit the road.

They were sweating in the burning heat as they turned off the highway and roared up the dirt road climbing into the high desert. The road became a track, then petered out, but Randy led the way over the parched scrub until they heard the incongruous sound of falling water. They got off their bikes and walked to the same spot Randy had taken Mark so many months ago.

"God, this is beautiful, man," said Zack, surveying the unlikely sight of a deep pool of water running out to a swift-moving stream. The pool was fed by a high waterfall, runoff from the snowmelt in the San Jacinto Mountains high above the desert. "This spot is perfect."

Randy gave him a piercing look. "Perfect for our needs."

He had broached the topic, hit on the reason they had come to this remote, deserted place. As they stood on the bank high above the dark pool the tension seemed to crackle in the air like electric sparks. The time had finally come. They kicked off their boots and, now wearing only their jeans, the two magnificent men gazed at each other, jaws clenched, every muscle tense. It was Zack who spoke, holding out his arms, flaunting his shining black torso.

"Well, man, here I am. Come on, stud. Let's see what you've got."

"You've met your match, asshole. Try this for a start." Randy hauled back and slammed his fist into the exposed stomach and then, as Zack doubled over, smashed his forearm onto the back of his shoulders. This familiar opening move always brought his opponent crashing to the ground. But not Zack. Instead of crumpling to his knees he stood erect and smiled at Randy.

"Is that all you've got, stud? It'll take a lot more than that to drop me. Why don't you try again?"

Shocked by the resilience of the man Randy raised his arm and slammed the back of his fist against Zack's cheek. The black man's head flew and he took a few steps back, but remained standing. He reciprocated with blows to either side of Randy's face. Stunned, but still upright, Randy gazed at the arrogant, handsome face, and the slugfest began as they traded punches. The only effect was to throw each man momentarily off balance, but each stood his ground, his head flying sideways under the force of each blow.

Finally Randy recognized the brutal stalemate and in a lightning move spun Zack around and brought his arm round his neck from the back, locking it in a choke hold. Zack raised his arms and tried to wrench the huge arm from his neck, but it didn't budge.

Randy growled, "Not so easy, eh, stud?" Not so tough after all. You're finished, man."

Locked together the two men staggered around the clearing, Randy increasing the pressure on the choke hold, Zack flailing desperately trying to release it. He was gasping now, the weight on his windpipe slowly cutting off his air. He knew only one way out. His whole body tensed, he flexed every agonized muscle and suddenly he leaned forward, heaving Randy's body upward, over his back.

Randy felt his feet leave the ground, felt himself flying forward over the back and head of this powerful man. His arms came loose, he lost all sense of space, he was in the air, then crashing onto the ground. For a second he blacked out. Then, dazed, disoriented, his eyes swam into focus and he looked up at the muscular black stud towering over him, saw the face grinning down at him.

"Seems you don't learn, asshole. You can't beat me. I am the best."

Nothing more flammable coursed through Randy's veins than anger. Many men had felt the force of his uncontrolled fury. And now Randy was angry. With a roar he vaulted to his feet and slammed against the muscular black body. The force of the blow made them both stagger blindly backward and together they hurtled down into the pool below. The cold water jolted them and they were now under the waterfall, trading blows again, water pouring over their heads, down their faces and bulging torsos, soaking their jeans clinging to their legs. It was serious now. Each man now knew the strength of the other, knew he had met his match, so every ounce of strength, adrenaline and rage went into the fight. Soon their bodies locked together and they fell back from the waterfall into the pool, rolling over in the water, carried downstream and onto a rocky beach.

Their bodies gleamed, their soaking jeans clung to their legs as they crawled up the beach. Zack was first to his feet and hauled the big construction worker upright. As Randy reeled, disoriented, he felt the back of Zack's fist strike first one cheek then the other. His handsome, rugged face flew from side to side with each blow as he staggered backward. Now he was leaning against a tree, taking the full force of the black man's savage onslaught. Through his pain he heard the deep, triumphant voice.

"Yeah, take it, stud. I'm gonna break you, give you the beating of your life. You thought you could whip me? Think again, asshole. You're finished, man. I am the best!"

The brutal pounding continued and Randy knew he was close to defeat. He had never met strength like this, never been thrashed so bad. Then even as he grew weaker, he glimpsed a fallen tree branch on the ground behind Zack. With the last ounce of strength he could muster he shoved Zack backward. The big man stumbled back against the branch, lost his balance and fell. As Zack crashed to the ground his head struck a rocky boulder and he momentarily blacked out.

Randy looked down at his fallen opponent and, still reeling from the beating he had taken, instinctively backed away from him and leaned against a tree on the other side of the beach to regain his breath. He watched as Zack slowly came to, shook his head and looked up toward Randy. His head throbbed from the blow and he was still only semi-conscious, but he instinctively knew he had to reach the big man gazing down at him.

Using all his remaining strength Zack turned on his stomach and began to drag himself along the stony beach. Randy stood watching him in awe. It was one of the most erotic sights he had ever seen ... the beautiful black muscle god, stripped to the waist, beaten half senseless, dragging himself in agony toward him. His naked chest scraped on the gravel, his soaking jeans clung to his legs and he gasped in pain. His exhausted muscles, stretched to their agonized limit, rippled and flexed, his beautiful ebony face twisted in pain, as he slowly clawed his way over the ground.

The incredible image made Randy's cock grow hard as iron in his pants. He smiled grimly as he taunted the fallen black man.

"Crawl, you son-of-a-bitch. I said I'd make you crawl. Yeah, come on, man. Bring it on. You thought you were a big, tough black stud. Now look at you, crawling at my feet like an animal. Your finished man. I've broken you."

Randy walked over to the beaten stud and flipped him over onto his back. Still only half conscious Zack looked up in agony at what came next. As he towered over Zack, Randy pulled out his rigid dick and pointed it at his face.

"This is it, man. The final humiliation. See how my black slave likes to drink his master's piss."

Zack gasped as a hot jet of rancid piss slammed into his beautiful face. His gasp made him open his mouth and he tasted the bitter juice of total defeat. Then he felt the hot liquid pouring over his shoulders, his chest and then soaking his bulging crotch. It was then that he became dimly aware that his cock was raging hard. Through the mist of urine he looked up at the magnificent bodybuilder towering over him, smelt and tasted his piss ... and the sensation of being totally degraded by this man almost made him shoot his load in his pants.

But his survival instinct took over. The taste of Randy's piss disgusted him, and adrenaline and rage gave him the strength to summon his last shred of energy from some deep reservoir of strength. He lunged forward, grabbed Randy's ankle and heaved him off balance, sending him crashing to the ground.

Both men were now crawling, but Randy saw that Zack was at the limit of exhaustion. He took advantage and was able to pull Zack into a sitting position and clamped a wrestler's sleeper hold round his neck and head. This always had the effect of cutting off the opponent's air and making him lapse into unconsciousness. But Zack was tougher than any man Randy had met. He flexed his muscles again and, despite his exhaustion, both men knew he was strong enough to power out of the hold. But he didn't.

Dazed as he was, Zack knew that the stalemate between them would continue, and his thoughts drifted to Bob. That was what this was all about. Zack wanted the man, craved him. He had to have him, and knew there was only one way. Randy had to defeat Zack, break him, before he would let him near his lover. So instead of fighting back, the black muscleman went limp. His arms dropped to his side, his head fell forward, and as darkness overcame him his last thought was of Bob before he slumped unconscious.

First he heard water. His head was pounding as consciousness flooded back. He tried to move, but couldn't. His arms were stretched tight upward. He felt a hard surface on the back of his head and he pulled at the ropes. Ropes? What the fuck? He opened his eyes and saw the triumphant construction worker looming over him.

"Fuck you, man," Zack growled.

"I don't think so, asshole. It's you who's fucked."

Randy looked down at his helpless captive with a satisfied grin. The black bodybuilder was naked, sprawled on the beach on his back, his head resting against the boulder he had crashed against earlier. His arms were stretched upward behind him in a V, wrists tied with a rope that was secured round the back of the rock. He was completely immobilized against the rock.

Randy grinned as he watched the bound muscle-god try to free himself, watched the sculpted, ebony physique gleam and flex as his shoulders and arms bulged with the effort to break the ropes. The shaved heat flew from side to side against the rock, eyes blazing, jaw clenched in anger. Randy was in no hurry. He paced round the small beach, taunting his fallen opponent.

"So here you are finally, stud, at my mercy. You knew it had to come to this. You have dared to fall in love with my lover, the man who means everything to me. And I know he wants you. So, the deal was, you can be with him, fuck him, provided you submit to me first. And I mean submit ... beg, plead, crawl, degrade yourself. Only when you submit, call me sir, will you be worthy of him. You ready to call me sir?"

Zack narrowed his eyes and snarled, "Asshole."

Randy continued. "Have it your way. But I like you, Zack, so I'll give you a break. I'll let you go. No more pain, no more humiliation. You just leave ... leave us both for good. You never see Bob again. What do you say?"

"Go fuck yourself," Zack shouted. "You know I'm your equal, man, and I always get what I want. Bob craves my dick in his ass and I'm gonna fuck him. I'm gonna pound the ass that belongs to you and he's gonna go ape-shit when I do. Does that answer your question, asshole?"

Randy glared at him. Again his anger was rising. He ripped the belt from his pants and swung it crashing down across Zack's chest. He saw the face wince with pain, but there was no sound. Zack tensed the muscles of his magnificent torso and the whip bounced off his bugling pecs. As the lashing continued Zack looked up at his captor and smiled.

"That all you got, man? You know I'll never submit to that. Come on, man. That the best you can do?"

Randy threw the belt down in disgust. He raised his hands to his waist and ripped his pants open so they dropped round his ankles. His huge dick, stiff as a pole, sprang out and he held it in his fist.

"See this, Zack? This is what Bob goes ape-shit for. This rod has tortured the ass of every man in the house. Shit, all you've ever done is beat off over a couple of men, drooled over them. But you've never fucked a man's ass and you've sure as hell never even thought of a man fucking you. Well that's gonna change, stud." He fell to his knees. "Right now."

He grabbed Zack's ankles and pushed his legs high in the air, exposing his vulnerable, virgin ass. Zack gasped and, for the first time ever, Randy saw fear in his eyes. There was a cruel grin on the construction worker's face as he pushed the head of his cock against the black man's shuddering ass. "Here it comes, man. This is what it's all been about."

Zack's scream echoed round the sun-baked desert as he felt a man's cock spear his ass for the first time in his life. As he was impaled on the monster shaft, as he felt it plunge deep into his gut, his magnificent black body shook with the most agonizing pain that had ever shot through him. His muscles strained, veins standing out, as he tried desperately to free himself from his bondage, tried to escape the shaft of pain shooting from his ass all over his agonized body.

Randy was triumphant. "That's it, stud, let me hear you scream. This is how I break a man, make him beg. And you are gonna beg, asshole. You're gonna call me sir, admit that you're beaten, that I am the best. You want my lover? Well, feel this you mother-fucker!"

The tortured man looked up and through his tears saw the cause of his agony, his humiliation. The man was tougher, more rugged, than any man he had ever met. Zack had submitted to him because of his lust for his lover. He had never been defeated in his life, but this man had thrashed him, whipped his naked chest, made him crawl like an animal, and then humiliated him by streaming hot, rancid piss over him. And now here he was naked, in bondage, suffering the degradation of having a man plough his ass.

The pounding was brutal as the iron rod rammed again and again deep into the black man's shuddering ass. The piston in his gut was the worst pain he had ever felt and Zack had to steel himself from passing out. But his screams finally abated and he looked up at his tormentor with a steely gaze.

Despite the agonizing pain in his ass he became defiant. He had had enough. Zack was a man, an alpha male, always the boss, and he was damned if he would let this man break him by ripping open his ass. He took a deep breath, clenched his jaw and suddenly his body became like steel. He flexed hard with every ounce of his strength, became rigid, every sinew, every muscle of his body rock solid.

Including the muscles in his ass! He breathed deeply again and clenched his ass tight, hard as iron. He looked up and saw the smile of triumph on Randy's face fade into a scream of pain. The muscle stud's dick was clamped in an agonizing vise. He couldn't move, his huge cock was trapped, crushed, and the pain shot through his groin and over his body.

"No!" he screamed. "God, the pain. Let go, man. You're crushing my cock. You're killing me!"

But Zack's response was to increase the pressure. He breathed in deeply and once again flexed his body, clenching his ass muscles tighter than ever. The iron hard sphincter was like a tourniquet, like a strangling noose. Every sinew of Zack's ass clamped round the cock, squeezing the life out of it. Randy's screams redoubled as he felt his dick being crushed in a brutal vise. Trying to pull out only intensified the pain. He had never felt pain like this, never in his cock. His dick was an instrument of punishment, but now it was being tortured. He looked down at the blazing eyes beneath him.

"You've gotta stop, man. I can't take pain like this. Stop, please."

"Beg, asshole."

"OK, man. I'm begging you. I beg you to stop."

Zack relaxed ... for a second. "You can do better than that, asshole." Then he clenched his ass again, more brutally than before. Randy's face jerked back, his black hair flying and he lost all control.

"Please, sir. I'm begging you. I can't take any more. Please stop, sir. You win. You've beaten me."

"Who won the fight?"

"You, sir. You've broken me. You are the best. I submit, sir. Please, I beg you. I submit!"

"Whose ass is Bob's?"

"Yours, sir. Please fuck him, sir." The pain was making him delirious. "You own his ass, sir. He belongs to you. Use him, hurt him, do anything, but please stop the pain. I'll do anything."

"Untie me."

Blindly Randy reached forward and with some effort, despite the excruciating pain in his dick, managed to loosen the knots in the ropes. Zack's hands came free ... and he relaxed.

Suddenly the pain in Randy's cock eased and his body heaved with relief, tears running down his sobbing face. He recovered enough to look Zack in the eyes ... and he was lost. A revelation flashed between the two men, and the world was still. In that transformative instant Randy suddenly knew. He knew from that moment that his former admiration for Zack had become love ... for the ultimate man. They had fought savagely, beaten each other, proved themselves equal, and finally this incredible man had broken him, made him beg, call him sir. He watched as Zack spoke.

"So, buddy. You wanted to fuck my ass?"

Randy was gasping. "You know I did."

Zack smiled. "Well all you had to do was ask. What are you waiting for?"

Randy could not believe what he had heard. Despite the residual pain in his cock it got hard again as he looked into the eyes of this incredible man. This top man, alpha male, dominant stud, was asking him to fuck his ass. And so he did. And it was different from any other time, a pure fantasy. His cock was tender, raw from punishment, so it was on fire as it slid into the furnace of Zack's virgin ass.

Zack felt no pain now, only the steady rhythm of the rod in his ass. He reached up and touched Randy's swollen nipples. Randy did the same to Zack, glorying in the feel of the hard chest, the smooth black skin. They were both smiling now.

"I love you, man," Randy breathed.

"I know. Me too. We're two of a kind, buddy ... the same ... equals ... brothers. Fuck me harder, sir. Make me cum."

"Yes, sir," said Randy and resumed his assault on the ass. He realized that Zack could take the hardest pounding he could give, more than any other man, without feeling pain. Zack's head rolled in ecstasy as he felt this beautiful man's cock plough his ass. "Thank you, sir," he moaned. "Thank you for being the first man ever to fuck me. You're magnificent, sir, the best."

Randy was getting close as he said, "You're making me so hot, sir. God, you look incredible. Please, sir, please let me come. Allow me to shoot my load in your ass, sir."

"You don't need my permission, buddy. Do it."

And there on the desert sand these two glorious men had simultaneous explosive orgasms as they screamed in unison, "Thank you, sir!" For the first time in his life Zack felt hot semen stream into his ass and at the same time saw his own juice blast upward and fall onto the stubbled face and heaving body of the man he now called brother. They were joined. They had gone through a baptism of fire and had survived, neither one vanquished, both of them victors.

Randy fell forward and his lips met Zack's in the powerful embrace of two rugged, triumphant males. They folded their arms round each other and on the small sun-drenched beach, to the sound of falling water, they fell into the deep sleep of total exhaustion.

That weekend was a time of discovery for them, opening new vistas of the kind of blood-brother comradeship neither had ever experienced before. Sure, Randy fucked Zack again ... many times in fact. But it was much more than that. It was the ritual bonding of two men rejoicing in their rugged masculinity, and seeing that masculinity reflected in the other. Testosterone poured from them as they gloried in the raw triumph of manhood.

And they talked ... endlessly. Randy spoke about Bob, their history together, their most intimate experiences, their fights, their passionate reconciliations. "God I can be a bastard to him," Randy said. "I've thrashed him, degraded him, broken him, and he still loves me."

"And you love him, Randy." Zack paused. "Listen, man. Are you sure about everything you said? About me and Bob ... me fucking his ass?"

Randy grinned. "Remember that sleeper hold? I know you could have powered out of that. But you let me win because you wanted Bob so much. So, man, you better damn well fuck him. I want him to be the first man you ever fuck, and for him to feel your juice in that sweet ass of his. Oh, make no mistake, his ass still belongs to me." He stopped himself, then locked eyes with Zack. "Well, not completely. I never thought I'd hear myself say this, man. But we both own his ass. You're my brother, man. Bob belongs to both of us."

At that moment Bob was gazing into the far distance, lost in thought. Mark laughed, "Earth to Bob! Anyone there? Hey, man, speak to me."

They were sitting at the outdoor table at home in the late afternoon, sipping beers, but Bob had lost the thread of the conversation and was staring into space. He drifted back and murmured, "So what do you think they've been doing?"

"I thought that was it," Mark grinned. "Well, let's see now. First they rode east to the desert, two shirtless studs looking like the most macho guys in creation. If they stopped in at that bar, as we did all those months ago, every guy in the bar creamed in his jeans."

Bob smiled for the first time. "You make me hard thinking about it,"

"Then ... what next? Oh yeah, then they fought and beat the living crap out of each other. Now Randy really has to prove he's the dominant male, your master, so he can offer you to Zack. So my guess is he really hurt Zack, humiliated him."

"Yeah, but Zack's a hard man to break. Randy's never met anyone like him. Do you ... do you think Randy fucked him? Zack's never done anything like that."

"Oh, Zack's been fucked, for sure. Randy has to fuck him before he'll let the guy fuck you. Oh, yeah, Zack's ass has been reamed. Just wish I could have been there to see it. Anyway, the black stud's all set, and he's coming to claim you. You can bet your sweet ass on that."

Bob sighed deeply. "Hell, Mark. I can't stop thinking about Zack. But now he's free to fuck me I'm kinda scared. I just want him so much. Shit, it all gets so complicated. Sometimes I wish we were back at the beginning, when it was just Randy and me."

Mark laughed, "Hey, what about me, fella?"

"Yeah, sorry, man." Bob smiled. "Jeez, I love you, man. You keep me sane, not to mention keep my dick hard all the time."

"Oh, yeah? We'll have to do something about that. Randy made me promise to take care of you. You wanna spend the night with me?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Bob laughed. Just then his cell-phone rang and Bob looked at the screen. "Well, talk of the devil." He flipped it open. "Hey, Randy. You OK?"

"Never better," came Randy's cheerful reply. "Everything kosher at the house? Mark taking care of you?'

"Oh, we have plans for later. But ... are you sure you're OK........ both of you?"

"Well, apart from a lot of bruises, aching muscles and sore egos we're just dandy. I'll tell you the whole story when I see you tomorrow. For now I just wanted you to know that I love the hell out of you, man. You're my man, right?"

"You know I am, sir. Body and soul."

"OK, just wanted to make sure. Now, there's a gorgeous black man here wants a word with you. Bye, kid. Can't wait to see you."

Bob took a sharp intake of breath and heard Zack's deep voice. There was a subtle change in his tone from before. It was firmer, somehow, dominant, more authoritative. "Hey buddy. Now listen to me. Next weekend I'm taking you up to my shack in the Guadalupe dunes. Just you and me. You got that?"

"Yes, sir."

"It's about time you got to know me. Really know me. So you get your ass good and ready for me. And you're gonna do whatever I tell you to do, is that clear?

"Yes, sir."

"So now you're gonna prove that. Here's what you do for me right now. Where are you?"

"In the garden with Mark."

"OK. You go up to your room and strip naked. You lie on the bed and pull your cock out. You close your eyes and you imagine a big, muscular black stud standing over you. You're tied up, you're his prisoner. He kneels down, pushes his dick against your ass and then fucks the shit out of you. You look up into his face and shoot you load. Now, is it clear what you have to do for me?"

"Yes, sir."

Then do it." And the phone clicked off.

Bob felt he was hyperventilating. In a daze he said to Mark. "Gotta do something, Mark. Back in a while." Mark watched as Bob stumbled into the house.

Bob rushed into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. "Yes, sir," he murmured and stripped off his T-shirt and jeans. Naked he threw himself down on his bed, stretched his arms up and gripped the bed posts on each corner. His cock was rock solid. He lay there spread-eagled and close his eyes tight.

Instantly he saw Zack, clearly etched in his mind. The muscle stud towered over him wearing black jeans and an old, ragged brown T-shirt. He watched as Zack clutched the neck of his T-shirt and ripped it clean off his body. Bob gasped as he saw the magnificent, ebony physique. Stripped to the waist the man was an icon, broad shoulders, massive chest, washboard abs and slim waist. Bob gazed up into the pale grey eyes of the handsome, sculpted face.

He gasped again as he imagined Zack ripping open his jeans, and he saw the huge black club spring up. The man knelt on the bed. His eyes burned into Bob's and he felt the head of the cock touch his ass. He gripped the bedposts hard, waited, then screamed as he felt the rod plunge into him. "Yes, sir. Please fuck my ass, sir." His cock pulsed, his body shuddered and he felt hot liquid pouring over his face and body.

He had shot a massive load of cum. He had done what he had been ordered to do. He had obeyed his master. He lay gasping for breath, his whole body shaking with fear and excitement. As his heartbeat slowed he opened his eyes ... and groaned. He was alone. There was no black muscle god. He had not been fucked. "God, I need you, Zack. I need to feel you, hear your voice."

And then his phone rang. Frantically he reached over the side of the bed and ripped the phone from his jeans pocket. He fumbled as he opened it. "Yes?" he shouted into it.

"Calm down, man," the deep voice said evenly. "Did you do it?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Was it good?"

"Oh, man, it was spectacular. God I need you, Zack. I need to see you, feel you. I need your dick in my ass, sir."

"And that's what you'll get. Next weekend. Now, calm down and go back to Mark. Tell him all about it. As Randy said, let him take care of you ... let him love you, fuck you. The man's gorgeous, a fucking god, so don't think of me. Enjoy him. And in a week, your ass will be mine. I'm gonna make love to you and fuck you senseless."

And the phone clicked off.

Bob pulled himself to his feet, pulled on his jeans and stumbled shirtless downstairs and out to the garden. Mark stood up from the table and gazed spellbound at the obviously exhausted man, stripped to the waist, with semen pouring down his face and naked chest. Bob stood in front of him, then fell into his arms, sobbing.

"It's OK, buddy," Mark said softly. "Take it easy. It was Zack wasn't it?"

"He made me cum! I shot my load thinking about him. Hold me, Mark. Help me, OK?"

"You know I will, old buddy. This is me, now, your pal the police officer. I'm gonna take care of you." He held Bob at arm's length. "You know, kid, there's no reason you should always submit to those guys. You are a fucking gorgeous hunk of man, a real alpha male. It's about time you asserted your own authority ... became the master. So, we have the weekend ahead of us ... and I have plans for us."

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength -- Part 72"