A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 73 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER At long last Zack has Bob to himself, in the deserted dunes, and he finally takes possession of his ass. Bob screams, "God I love the feel of that huge black dick in my ass. You're a fucking god." But when Bob is spread-eagled in bondage Zack finds his beauty infinitely painful. "You're too beautiful, man. It hurts me. Your body is too perfect. Beauty like that I have to damage, make it suffer."

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A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 73

In the basement bedroom Bob fell to his knees. He gazed in awe at the one of the most spectacular sights he had ever seen ... a beautiful, muscular, black bodybuilder in full leather.

His unbelieving eyes travelled downward, past the bull neck, the broad, gleaming shoulders, and then to the chiseled naked torso, crossed with an X by a studded leather harness ... black leather on glistening black flesh. The torso tapered down past the ripped, eight-pack abs to the slim waist cinched by a wide belt. The shiny leather pants clung to the muscled thighs, down to heavy black boots.

The picture was flawless, breathtaking ... pornographic ... an erotic drawing come to life.

Bob's gaze was still fixed on the boots as he lost control. Though his hands were still tied, he fell forward with a moan and ground his face on the boots. He had to worship this dark god, had to debase himself before him, had to offer himself to him. He lapped at the leather of the boots, licked ravenously, became delirious as he humiliated himself before this spectacular man. Then he remembered. The man was Zack. This beautiful leather stud was the man who was going to take him away, make love to him ... and push his long black dick inside his ass.

And Randy had given his blessing. No, much more than that. Bob had heard him say, "I want you to meet your new master. I love you, man. From now on, you have two masters."

Not long afterwards Bob lay in Randy's arms in bed. He looked at Randy and smiled. "You know, since the day I met you, Randy, you have never ceased to amaze and excite me. Sometimes you hurt me, sometimes I'm scared of you, but always the sight of you makes me rock hard. I am totally, eternally in love with you. And thank you for Zack. I can't believe you are allowing that. Why are you?"

"Because you're my man, buddy. And because I love you. Simple as that." He smiled. "I just have one regret ... that I won't get to see all the things Zack has in store for you out in the dunes. Now that would be something to see."

Then they made love, the first of many times in the week to come. Their sex had a sharper edge to it, a heightened exhilaration as both men wanted to demonstrate the depth of their love and loyalty for each other. Both of them knew that Bob lusted for Zack, and that the dominant black stud felt the same way. Both knew that when Zack took possession of him, Bob would be swept into a vortex of passion that he had not known with any man except for Randy.

But Randy had made his peace with that. He had confronted Zack, fought with him, fucked him savagely ... and fallen in love with him, with his stunning beauty, his toughness, his raw masculinity. The two alpha males were now blood brothers ... and Randy was willing to share with Zack the man he loved above all else, body and soul.

Life at the house progressed at something close to normal that week, though at the front of everyone's mind was the upcoming departure of Bob and Zack to the Guadalupe Dunes. Each, in his own way, speculated to himself about what would happen there, what Zack had in store for Bob. But they all kept their thoughts to themselves ... even the boys, who knew that the event was so exceptional it should not be talked about.

Darius had the most contact with Zack as he was still working with him for another week at the construction site Zack would be managing. After that Darius would go back to being Randy's assistant. Darius loved working for Randy, the boss he idolized, but still he felt regret at no longer working close to this extraordinary man he had come to respect so highly. Not to mention that Darius had a permanent erection when Zack was near.

Toward the end of the week it was as if Zack read the boy's thoughts. They had been working hard. Zack was, as usual, stripped to the waist in his muddy black jeans and heavy boots, and sweat streamed down the contours of his gleaming chest and sculpted face. "Time for a break, kid," he said to Darius.

They went into the trailer office and Zack pulled two beers from the small fridge. He gave one to Darius, sank back in a chair and looked up at the somewhat nervous boy. "I know what you're feeling kid. I feel the same. It's been great working with you these past two weeks. I really respect you ... like you a lot. But even though we won't be working together, no reason we can't get together often ... that's if it's OK with Pablo. Don't want to upset that particular boat."

"Oh, it would be fine with him," Darius said eagerly. "Pablo has his master, Randy, and he would like me to have someone who ... well ..."

"OK," Zack grinned, "we won't go there just yet. Just take it as it comes, eh?" Darius was still standing uneasily before him and Zack asked, "Is there anything I can do for you right now, bro?"

Darius took a deep breath and decided to come straight out with it. "Yes there is, sir. You don't have to do anything, but there's something I've been longing to do all the time we've worked together."

"OK, shoot."

"Well," Darius grinned. "You just nailed it right there. See I've lost count of the times I've come in here and watched you work and ... well, shot my load all over the window just looking at you."

"I know."

"You knew?!" Now Darius was embarrassed.

"Sure, kid. I caught sight of you at the window. I was flattered, but didn't want to bring up the subject." He grinned. "And now I suppose you want to do it right here."

"Oh, man," Darius winced, "you understand me so well, sir. See, you're my fantasy ... you're so incredibly hot. I've beat off so many times just thinking about you."

"So do it. No more talk, no more fantasy. Just look at me and do it."

Zack put down his beer, sprawled back farther in the chair and began to rub his big hands over his chest, smoothing the sweat over his bulging pecs and chiseled abs. Darius almost came right there in his pants. But he managed to pull out his huge ten inches and began to stroke it, mesmerized by the sight of this spectacular man. As the glorious black stud moaned, rubbing his fingers against his nipples, easing his bulging crotch upward, his chest gleaming, he was straight out of a pornographic picture ... a black Colt Model ... a Tom of Finland drawing.

"Oh, man," Darius groaned. He was breathing heavily and knew he couldn't hold out much longer. He gasped as Zack stretched his arms backward in a classic bodybuilder pose, flexing his biceps and shoulders. Darius felt the hot semen rising from his balls and up his long shaft.

"OK, bro," the deep voice said. "Go for it." Zack rested his hands behind his neck, his elbows stretched out sideways, showing off his biceps and the full expanse of his glorious chest. Then he did something that brought Darius to the brink. He smiled his dazzling smile, showing his gleaming white teeth set in his stunning ebony-black face. That did it.

Darius was hypnotized ... lost. He howled as his cock exploded in a huge river of hot semen, streaming high in the air, then splashing down onto the exposed torso of the magnificent black bodybuilder flexing his body before him. The boy yelled again as more juice erupted, stream after stream, covering the gleaming black skin in white cream. He stood before his idol, shuddering, whimpering.

"That do it for you, bro?" asked Zack with a huge grin.

"Oh, sir. That was the best. God, you are ... you are ..."

"OK, kid, save it. Break's over. Back to work." And Zack stood up.

"Sir," Darius said as they walked to the door. "I would just like to say that I hope you have a great time this weekend with Bob in the dunes."

"Oh, that's guaranteed," laughed Zack. "And maybe I'll even tell you about it when we get back ... one of those evenings you and I will have together. Give you something else to jerk off to, eh kid?"

Darius was dazed for the rest of the day. He totally worshiped this man and had a permanent hard-on watching him work. What amazed him most of all was that Zack made no effort to wipe away the mass of white semen that still streaked down his chest. It mingled with his sweat, running down past his waist, spreading a dark stain over the big bulge in his pants.

During the remainder of the work-day Zack once or twice ran his hand over his sweating chest and smiled at Darius, unseen by the rest of the crew. It was a private smile, just between them, suggestive of secrets only they knew.

And it was right around that time that Darius fell helplessly in love.

Darius's final duty for Zack was to take over for him at noon on Friday so he could leave work early. Zack was deep in thought as he drove to the house and went down to the basement. He didn't shower, didn't clean up. All he did was put on a T-shirt. An instinct told him not to be shirtless on the drive up the coast with Bob. So, still smelling of the sweat of the morning's work he pulled on a thin, ragged old brown T-shirt, threw a few things in a backpack and was ready.

He heard voices upstairs. Randy and Bob had also come home early and Zack didn't interrupt them for a while. He knew they would be saying their goodbyes. In fact, at that moment they were in each other's arms.

Bob spoke softly to Randy. "You real sure you're OK with this, buddy? One word from you and I won't go."

Randy smiled. "Are you kidding, asshole? After all I went through making sure Zack was worthy of you? We beat the holy crap out of each other and I've still got the bruises to prove it. I broke the big stud in for you man. Don't let me down now. I want him to know the real value of the prize he's won. I love him like a brother, and your ass is the most precious thing in the world I can give him."

As they hugged again they heard a clearing of the throat and a deep voice said, "Er, leave something for me there, buddy."

Randy turned to Zack and laughed. "Hell, look at the guy, Zack. There's plenty there for both of us." He walked up to Zack and hugged him. "OK, stud, he's all yours for the weekend. Treat him well. He's precious to me." He broke away and picked up a bulging black leather bag from the ground. "Oh, and you'll be needing this. Bob knows what it is."

Bob had become familiar with its contents when Randy first subjected him to his painful initiation. With one last hug he whispered, "I'm a bit scared, Randy."

"Don't be, man. Zack's a good guy. Wouldn't entrust you to him if I didn't think so. Now listen. You have your cell phone. If you need anything, all you have to do is call and I'll drive straight up to you. But I don't think you'll need that. You're gonna have a blast, big guy."

It had been a long time coming. The sexual tension had built steadily over the weeks ever since the moment Bob and Zack had first laid eyes on each other. And now, as they drove north in Zack's truck they could have cut the tension with a knife. The apprehension, the excitement ... and the fear ... were all palpable, and they drove the whole way in complete silence.

They didn't dare speak. Words could not have come close to the pitch of emotion they felt. It was as if, in the heavy silence, the two men were roped tightly together, feeling, smelling, tasting each other, but unable to move. They didn't even dare look at each other, though Bob did allow himself one glance at the incredible man sitting next to him staring at the road ahead. Zack was wearing the torn brown T-shirt Bob had visualized when he had fantasized about finally being alone with Zack, offering his ass.

It was a drive of over three hours north on the 101 Freeway to Guadalupe and the tension became heavier with each passing mile. They had passed through Santa Barbara and the road was now running right alongside the Pacific on the left. The beauty of the coastline, and the stunning beauty of the man beside him, were bringing Bob to a climactic pitch of emotion. He wanted to scream out loud. And then suddenly Zack pulled the truck over to the side of the road and stopped.

For the first time Zack turned to face Bob, his piercing gray eyes burning into Bob's, that were opened wide with apprehension. Without a word, Zack grabbed behind Bob's neck, pulled his face forward and savagely ground their mouths together. He hungrily licked his face, kissed his eyes, then invaded the mouth again. Bob thought his heart would burst from his chest as he was overwhelmed by his senses. The taste, the smell of this incredible man whose lips pressed against his, tongue searching deep inside his mouth.

He was dimly aware of the sounds of passing traffic, of the waves crashing on the shore and the piercing cry of the seagulls overhead. But all of these sensations were overwhelmed by the magnetic presence of this man, his muscular strength, his ravenous mouth crushing against Bob's. Bob had stopped breathing, became light-headed and knew that he was close to orgasm.

And then it stopped. As suddenly as he had begun, Zack pulled away, turned his face to the road and pulled the truck back onto the highway. It was over. Bob began to breathe again, tears ran down his face. He was hardly able to believe that it had happened. Not a word had been spoken. There was silence again... and the tension was lightened ... for now.

Bob sighed with relief when they finally pulled off the highway, drove through the modest streets of little Guadalupe, and then bounced over the sand behind the dunes. Finally, at long last, the small shack came into view. The drive was almost over ... but what now?

Bob felt a stab of panic. What was he doing here in these remote, deserted dunes? What was going to happen to him? He hardly knew this powerful man. He knew only that he lusted for him, longed for him, but he was scared of him too. Would he hurt him? How badly? Bob fingered his cell phone in his pocket and comforted himself with the thought that one press of the speed-dial would bring Randy running.

Then the truck stopped, Zack turned to face him ... and all Bob's doubts and fears evaporated. The face was ruggedly handsome, the expression was intense, and Bob knew he wanted the man more than anything in the world right now. He would give him anything, endure anything inflicted on him. Zack got out of the truck, came round and opened Bob's door. Grabbing his wrist he pulled the big muscle-stud from the truck and strode toward the shack, pulling Bob after him.

Everything happened with lightning speed, and in silence. Zack yanked opened the door of the shack and pushed Bob inside the sparsely-furnished room. He spun Bob around and shoved him backward, down onto the bed. He towered over him, body heaving, glaring down at him. He reached down, quickly pulled off Bob's boots, then his jeans and shorts. He knelt between Bob's legs, reached forward and with one powerful heave ripped the T-shirt from his body.

Bob was naked. He could hardly breathe, his cock was rigid, as he gazed up at the magnificent black muscleman kneeling over him, his wild, rugged face, the massive, heaving body. He gasped as Zack reached down and ripped open his jeans, pulling out his cock, the black club that was hard as steel. Roughly Zack pushed Bob's legs backward and pinned them to the bed. He looked down at the vulnerable ass and pressed the head of his cock against the hole.

There was a momentary stillness. The expression in the black man's gray eyes was one of wonder, exhilaration ... and carnal desire. As he gazed in awe at the beautiful, naked bodybuilder beneath him, at his mercy, the man he had lusted for for so long, Zack spoke for the first time. "You are so fucking beautiful!" he moaned. "I love you, man"

And with one powerful thrust Zack plunged his black rod deep inside Bob's ass.

There were two piercing screams, two bodies shuddered, and for the first time in his life Zack shot a massive load of hot cum in another man's ass. Bob was flying into another world. As he screamed he was dimly aware of hot liquid splashing onto his face, over his chest. It was the juice of his own incredible orgasm. And their orgasms continued, stream after stream of semen pouring out of their shuddering cocks.

Then something happened to Bob that had never happened to him before. As his own body came to rest he was aware of pressure, pain, in his ass. He looked up at the body above him and realized that it was rising and falling over him. Zack was still fucking him, fucking him again! Bob was mesmerized by the sight of the gleaming ebony muscles flexing as the man hammered his ass. It should have been pain ... but it was sheer bliss.

He thought of the huge black club, pictured it sliding into his ass, and he lost all control. Reaching up he pulled at the thin fabric of the brown T-shirt and ripped it down from the muscular chest. He gasped as he gazed in awe at the hard, ebony muscles of the torso, biceps and bulging pecs streaming with sweat as the body strained to pound at his ass. The last shredded remains of the T-shirt hung down from the gleaming shoulders.

Bob could not hold back. For the first time since the journey began his spoke ... shouted. "Oh, man, that is so fine. God I love the feel of that huge black dick in my ass. You are so fucking beautiful. You're a fucking god. I love you, man. Please fuck my ass. It belongs to you. Fuck it hard, pound me, hurt me, man."

Zack was driven to a frenzy of desire. Every ounce of his great strength was concentrated on Bob's ass. His hips rose, then crashed down against the hard globes. Zack screamed as he felt his long shaft slide past the warm, velvet membrane, deep inside, lubricated by his own semen. "Aaaah" He howled as he felt the head of his cock push past the hard inner sphincter and come to rest in the secret depths of the man's gut."

"I've gotta shoot again, man," Zack breathed. "You ready?" He read his answer in Bob's wild eyes and once again two orgasms exploded simultaneously. Their screams blended with the angry cries of the seagulls as if their world was in total harmony with nature. But as the human voices fell silent, the sounds of the seagulls were insistent, blending with the crashing of the waves on the shore.

For a while, it was like a frozen tableau as the two men gazed at each other in wonder. Their breathing and heartbeats were subsiding, but Zack was still inside Bob's ass as he spoke.

He said, almost in disbelief, "I've never fucked a guy before."

Bob smiled. "I'm privileged to be the first."

"And the second," Zack grinned. "And now the third."

Bob was amazed to realize that Zack was still hard inside his ass. He could hardly believe it as the fucking began again ... for a third time. Again the steel rod buried itself deep inside him, again he was helplessly impaled on the black muscle-god's cock. He moved his hips up and down, matching Zack's rhythm and, when the cock was deepest inside him he clenched the muscles of his sphincter around it, then released them, then clenched again as if his ass was fucking Zack's cock.

The two men entered a magical world of the senses ... no thoughts, no fears, doubts or inhibitions. Just the exquisite harmony of two glorious men, enthralled by each other's masculine beauty ... and the savage, physical joy of spectacular sex.

And the sex continued throughout the night, again and again, until the sun came up.

When the morning sun rose it streamed through the only window of the shack, illuminating a scene that brought wonder, excitement ... and exquisite pain ... to Zack as he stared down at it. Bob lay on his back on the bed in the deep sleep of exhaustion. The sun's rays streamed over his magnificent naked body, muscles pumped from a night of extreme exertion. His arms were thrown back on the bed above his head. His face had fallen sideways and lay limply in profile, damp, tousled black hair falling over this high forehead.

Zack breathed deeply, his heart racing as he gazed in awe at the sculpted Superman profile. He shook his head and moaned. "God, that is so fucking beautiful ... so fucking beautiful. Shit, it's too beautiful!" and he slammed his fist against the wall in anger and frustration. His cock was rigid, but he had already fucked the man all night, taken ownership of his ass. And that was not enough ... he wanted to own the man, own his beauty. He wanted it to stay exactly as it was right now, lying there, helpless before him ... his! Zack was obsessed.

Incongruously Zack's mind flew back to a scene of his youth, when he had watched a glorious sunset from his bedroom window. The scarlet sky, the flame-tinted clouds had been breathtaking and the young Zack had stared at it all for a long time, willing it to stay exactly like that. But he knew it wouldn't, he knew it would fade, knew he couldn't own it. So he had to blot it out ... destroy it. He had slammed the window blinds shut and thrown himself on the bed, sobbing. Later, when he had looked through the window again the sky was black. The beauty had vanished ... and so had his pain.

And that's how he felt now about this exquisitely beautiful man who had come to obsess him. His beauty was overwhelming and Zack had to, if not destroy it, at least damage it, hurt it. Without another thought he went outside, grabbed the big leather bag from the truck and walked over to the weathered remains of an old out-building beside his shack.

Bob's deep sleep, his vivid dreams, were interrupted. As he drifted slowly upward into consciousness he heard the sound of ... hammering. He moved his aching limbs and immediately felt the raw soreness in his ravaged ass. He had lost count of the number of times it had been fucked throughout the night.

The door flew open and Zack stood there, wearing just his old torn shorts. Bob gasped at the spectacular sight. The face, the body, of course were magnificent, but it was the look in the blazing eyes that filled Bob with awe, desire ... and fear. He had never seen this wildness in the man, seen every muscle in his fine body tense, as if he were ready to pounce.

The deep voice was more like a growl. "Here, drink this." He handed Bob a bottle of water and he drank deeply. "You hungry?"

"Not yet. Not for food, anyway."

Zack sat on the bed with him and looked almost as if he were going to cry. "Man, I'm not sure if I can do this. You're too much for me. You are simply too fucking beautiful. You really should leave. Hell, the way I'm feeling you should be shit scared of me."

Bob looked at him evenly, spoke softly. "I'm not scared of you, Zack. I don't want to leave. I'm in love with you. You can do anything to me ... anything."

There was a long silence as the two men stared into each other's eyes. Suddenly Zack stood up. "Follow me."

Unsteadily Bob stood up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and followed Zack out to the sand. He followed Zack's gaze to an old structure next to the house ... not so much a building as a few remains, posts sticking up from the sand, notably an old door-frame that still stood upright. Then he saw the source of the hammering noise. On each corner of the frame, high at the top and down near the sand, Zack had hammered huge nails and hung from them leather restraints that he had pulled from the bag. Bob recognized them as the same restraints Randy had used in the past.

The memory of those times cleared his mind of all else. Instinctively he walked toward the door frame, raised his arms and slid his hands through the restraints. He felt Zack behind him, cinching the cuffs tight, then pushing his legs apart and fastening his ankles. Finally he felt the leather collar being buckled round his neck.

He was in a trance as he saw Zack walk round to face him, about six feet away. The black muscle-stud gazed at him ... then fell to his knees in the sand. Bob watched as a look of awe, anger and desolation crossed the sculpted black features. And he heard the scream of a wounded animal.

"NO! No ... it can't be real. It's too fucking beautiful." Zack was gazing at the bodybuilder who was spread-eagled before him, stretched naked, helpless, his gleaming muscles bulging, held taut by his restraints. The Superman features were tense with fear, the jaw rigid, the muscular neck encased in a black leather collar.

Bob knew what he had to do, what Randy would have wanted. He looked up at his wrist restraints and pulled against them. He tried to get free, pulled mightily at his leather bonds, his body stretching and heaving, muscles flexed, veins bulging as his desperation increased. Zack was hypnotized by the sight of the body before him, bucking and writhing, suffering in bondage, sinewy muscles streaming with sweat, gleaming in the morning sunlight.

He had never, ever, seen anything like this, never imagined it in his wildest fantasies. The stunning, desperate, straining bodybuilder was an icon. This was beauty as he had never experienced it, so stunningly real, so sexual, an exaggerated, erotic picture come to life. Zack was in agony. He couldn't take it. He had to blot it out, had to hurt it.

He sprang to his feet, leapt toward Bob and smashed the back of his hand against his cheek, first one then the other, again and again. As he watched the glorious face fly from side to side Zack was yelling, "You fucking bastard. You're hurting me. I can't take it, man. You're too beautiful ... too fucking beautiful! Fucking your ass is not enough. I have to destroy you, man."

But something made him stop. It must have been the look in Bob's terrified eyes, the memory of last night, the deep-down knowledge that he loved this beautiful man. He glanced down and saw that the bound man's cock was standing straight out, rock solid. And in his shorts Zack's own club was like steel. His body relaxed, his gaze softened.

"Oh, man. What am I doing? I've gotta get over this. I've gotta get away, man ... go for a run, exhaust myself." Abruptly he turned, took off along the beach with long, powerful strides. He was soon far in the distance, his image became smaller and smaller until it disappeared in the hazy blue of sky and surf.

With the rhythm of his pounding feet in the wet sand, the same theme still pounded in his brain. "Gotta get over this ... gotta get over it." He remembered other images of beauty, like that sunset of his youth. He remembered long ago in a northern winter coming unexpectedly upon a small meadow covered with a smooth, pristine layer of freshly fallen snow. It was perfect ... silent, untouched, glistening white, flawlessly beautiful ... too beautiful to remain.

He had stayed at the field as long as he could, gazing at its virgin beauty. He was obsessed by it, as he always was obsessed by perfect beauty. And like all obsessions it caused pain as well as euphoria. The snow-covered meadow was painful for Zack. He couldn't keep it, couldn't own it, so he had to destroy it. So he ran all over it, criss-crossing the small field until the snow was a churned-up mess. The beauty was ruined, and only then could he relax and go away.

Zack didn't realize that, in his flights of fancy, he had turned round and was running back toward the shack, back to the bodybuilder hanging in bondage. And he knew what he had to do.

The dunes and the beach were always deserted. But if anyone had chanced to visit they would have come across a sight that would have blown their mind. In this vast wilderness was a small shack, and next to the shack was an old ruined doorframe, and hanging helplessly in the doorframe was a stunningly handsome muscle-god.

He was stark naked, the sculpted muscles of his glorious physique straining in agonized bondage, his beautiful face hanging down in beaten humiliation. There was a wide leather slave collar around his neck. The man was alone in this silent wilderness, waiting ... waiting to learn his fate.

The face rose as he heard the faint sounds of feet pounding in the surf. Slowly he looked up and saw the incredible face of a powerful black man, gray eyes piercing his. He saw the granite body streaming with sweat. Then he heard the deep voice ... "I love you, man" ... and felt the lips crush his in a passionate embrace. Then the man was gone.

Inside the shack Zack was preparing himself. He reached down for the bulging leather bag. He knew that what he had to do he could not do as Zack. He had to do it in another guise, assume another identity, an alter ego. In a few minutes he was ready. He reached into the bag again for one last item.

Bob heard a sound and raised his head. "Aaaah" He uttered an involuntary moan as he looked upon the unbelievable image of a tall, muscular, black bodybuilder dressed in full leather. He thought he must be hallucinating as he gazed at the iconic image. The sculpted muscle-god wore a cap pulled down over eyes shielded behind mirror glasses. The massive torso was covered only by a shiny black leather vest that left bare his broad shoulders, bulging pecs and washboard abs.

The torso narrowed to a heavy belt round his tight waist, and the legs were encased in leather pants tucked into heavy, black boots. But there was something else that riveted Bob's gaze, made his eyes focus with horror. The leather stud was holding a long, single-strand braided leather whip. The man gazed at his prisoner who flinched as Zack cracked the whip in the sand. He walked up to the bound man.

Bob was shocked to hear the tone of Zack's voice, harsh, guttural. It was the voice of a stranger. "It has to be like this, man. You're too beautiful. It hurts me. Beauty like that I have to damage, make it suffer. Your body is too perfect. I have to damage it. That's the way it has to be."

He stepped back and now Bob was terrorized. He thought of Randy, longed for him. But he was out here alone, alone with this wild muscular leather man, and his bound body was going to be whipped. Instinctively he struggled. He had to get free. As before, Zack looked on as the magnificent bodybuilder pulled as his restraints, stretching, flexing in desperation.

The big body writhing in bondage was the most beautiful thing Zack had ever seen. It was too beautiful, much too beautiful. He resented the man's beauty. It had to be damaged. There was only one thing he could do. He raised his arm and brought the whip crashing down across the bulging chest. He watched in awe as the body spasmed, bucked, and writhed in agony, the man's scream shattering the morning air.

Bob closed his eyes and flexed his body hard as he felt another stinging blow across his chest, then another across his hard abs. Then he opened his eyes and focused on the leather stud's bicep as the arm raised and the whip came down, this time curling around his neck. His screams helped to ease the pain, but he did not close his eyes again. He yelled out loud, not because of another lash, but because his captor suddenly threw off his cap, took off his glasses and then shrugged off the leather vest.

Stripped to the waist he looked magnificent and Bob entered another world... a world of exquisite pain and total lust for his torturer. "YES!" he screamed. "Please sir. Whip my body, sir. I need it. I need to feel you lashing my body. Please, sir. Harder!"

Zack lost control and the whip smashed down on the body harder than ever. It curled round the back, across the shoulders, over the massive chest, round the muscled thighs, round the neck bearing the slave collar. Red welts criss-crossed the bulging muscles as they suffered under the lash.

The leatherman walked round the back and lashed the wide expanse of the stud's muscled back. His eyes gleamed as he focused on the perfect mounds of the ass he had penetrated so recently and so often. They bounced under the whip as it smashed across them, turning the white ass scarlet. Then Zack saw the cock standing our erect, rock hard, and began to whip the long, thick shaft.

Bob was in an erotic delirium of pain and ecstasy, his whole body on fire, his vision filled with the image of his magnificent torturer. But when the felt the whip curl round his cock he knew he was lost. His cock had never felt the sting of the whip before. His body shuddered uncontrollably, the fire in his body concentrated in his balls, as he felt the red-hot lava rise up through his cock.

Zack watched mesmerized. As he jerked the whip back, viciously uncoiling it from round the man's rigid his cock, he saw the shaft shudder, and then erupt with a long stream of white liquid. Bob stared wildly at Zack and screamed, "I love you sir!" And his cock continued to explode in stream after stream of hot semen that arced high, then splashed on the sand at his feet.

The whipping stopped. Zack yanked his cock from his leather pants, grabbed it, pointed it at the writhing, agonized bodybuilder and howled like an animal. He poured rivers of white cream, warm balm, over the shattered, striped body he had wanted to destroy. He was hypnotized as his juice poured down over the tortured muscles, as the beautiful man that he loved fell limp and hung helpless in his restraints, streaming with tears, sweat and semen.

It was over ... and stark reality crashed back over Zack. He looked in horror at what he had done. This time it wasn't the satisfaction of the obscured sunset, or the ruined snow. There was no satisfaction this time, only profound remorse at what he had done to this gorgeous man, this beautiful, kind, loving man, the man he loved more than anyone in the world. He cried out like a wounded animal, rushed forward and loosened the bonds. The shattered bodybuilder fell into his arms and the two men fell together onto the sand.

Zack was moaning as he looked down at the ravaged body. He bent to kiss it, lick it, bringing salve to the wounds. He ran his tongue all over the chest, shoulders, stomach, legs, trying desperately to bring comfort. He came to the face, licked the tears from the cheeks, then closed his mouth over the mouth. At last Bob stirred and pressed his lips hard against Zack's. They kissed passionately for a long time, until Zack pulled back and gazed at Bob with pleading eyes.

"Oh, man. What have I done? Please, please forgive me man. It was something inside me ... I lost control. I never dreamed of hurting you like that. I'm in love with you man, with your body, your soul and your incredible beauty. Oh, God. What have I done?"

Bob smiled despite his pain. "You've done exactly what I wanted you do, Zack. From the minute I saw you, and especially when I saw you that day in the basement in full leather, I knew that I wanted you to whip my body. I loved you fucking my ass, and I want much more of that. But I needed the feel of your strength on me, needed to feel your power. I saw your muscular body and needed to feel it. God I love you, man. More than I could ever have believed."

Zack was still in disbelief. "You wanted that? You wanted it that hard, that brutally?"

"Nothing less would do, man. And only you could do it."

Zack gazed down at him. Then he rewarded Bob with his wide gleaming smile. "Bob, you're a sick fuck, you know that?"

"I know. I do know that."

They started to laugh, and it became uncontrollable. It was the laughter of pure joy, of physical and emotional release, of the sharing of secret delights between two strong and beautiful males. They held each other tight and felt their bodies straining in their arms. They rolled over the sand, over and over until they rolled into the waves. Zack was kissing Bob passionately, voraciously, his desire, lust and love overflowing.

As the waves washed over them Zack looked up at the sky and screamed "YES!" His eyes met Bob's and he smiled. "We needed that, man. We had to do that, be that intense, before we could move on. Now I can relax. I'm not scared of your beauty any more. I tried to destroy it and learned to love it instead. I'm not afraid of loving you."

"That's what I needed to hear, Zack. Beauty can be a curse, an inhibition, we both know that well. But we are both two glorious, magnificent men and we can finally share it without fear."

"Oh, man," breathed Zack. "There's so much I want to do with you. We have two glorious days ahead of us."

Bob grinned, "Then what are we waiting for? Let the games begin!"

Zack looked down at him. "You still have the collar round your neck. Do you know that?"

Bob smiled. "I know, sir. I do know that."

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength -- Part 74"