A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 74 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER

Zack, the muscular leatherman, throws the whip aside. "Now I want to make love to you, Bob ... real love this time, no brutal fucking, no more whipping." Meanwhile Randy is tense as he pictures Zack and Bob together, and he vents his anger on Pablo's ass. Finally Mark takes command, making Randy perform a stunning sexual act. "You hurt Pablo, you insulted Jamie, and now you're gonna pay," the cop says.

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A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 74

At long last they were alone ... Bob and Zack in the remote dunes behind the long deserted beach. The powerful black stud had finally taken possession of Bob's willing ass and fucked it repeatedly all night. But then Zack had become obsessed by Bob's beauty. So he had tied Bob to a door frame, spread-eagled, and whipped his writhing body. "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 spoil it. That's the way it has to be."

But after their simultaneous orgasms Zack was racked with guilt. "Oh, man. What have I done? Please, please forgive me, man. 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."

Zack gazed at him 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."

Soon they were rolling together in the surf, laughing with the pure joy of physical and emotional release, of the sharing of secret delights between two strong and beautiful males. 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."

Zack stood up, but when Bob moved he grimaced with pain from his brutal whipping. He was still weak, his body covered with red welts from the lash. Immediately Zack bent down and amazingly scooped up the big bodybuilder in his arms. He looked into his soft brown eyes and said gently, "You're mine now, man, and I'm gonna take care of you. I hurt you and now I'm gonna take care of you."

All the tension, all the pain drained away from Bob as he relaxed in the black man's strong arms. He allowed himself to be carried up the beach, through the door of the shack and laid gently on the bed. He looked up and watched as Zack kicked off his boots, pulled off his leather pants and stood gloriously naked before him. Zack pulled the blinds down, and the sun shone through the slats, falling with soft stripes across the wounded body.

Zack's deep voice was gentle. "Jesus, you're beautiful, man. You look incredible lying there. But your beauty doesn't give me pain any more, only delight ... and desire. If you'll allow me to, I'd like to make love to you ... real love this time, no brutal fucking, no more whipping." Tears came to the black man's eyes. "I want to show you how much I love you, man. Will you let me do that?"

In reply Bob stretched his arms upward and Zack lowered himself into them. Their mouths came together, not voraciously as before, but softly, gently, exploring each other with the wonder of new discovery. And then Zack's mouth moved and began to caress the face ... up over the forehead, kissing the eyes, down over the chin, the neck and further down to the mounds of the chest.

Bob closed his eyes and sighed, giving himself up to the exquisite sensation of the muscle-stud's breath on his body. Zack was licking him, licking the wounds he himself had inflicted with the whip. His tongue traced the angry welts across the muscular chest, the shoulders and arms, the washboard abs, then down over the thighs, striped with the marks of the lash. He lapped hungrily, bringing balm to the wounded flesh.

He had saved the best till last. Moving upward he buried his face in the damp pubic hair. Then he lightly kissed Bob's cock, which rose up in a stiff response. The whip had earlier coiled round the massive shaft and, when it was ripped away, had made the cock erupt with a blast of semen. Now Zack caressed it, pressing his cheek against it, kissing, licking, exulting in his intimacy with the essence of Bob's manhood.

He brought his lips to the sensitive tip of the cock, and he couldn't hold back. Gently he took the head between his lips and lowered his mouth down over the whole length of the trembling shaft. Bob looked down at the spectacular, sculpted black face moving up and down, the mouth clenching round the still-raw membrane of his cock. He moaned with pleasure. "Oh, man, that feels so good. God, I love you Zack. Oh, no, you're gonna make me cum, man."

"Not yet!" the voice commanded as the mouth hastily withdrew and the cock sprang free. Gently Zack eased Bob over onto his stomach and gasped as he saw the damage the merciless whip had done to the muscles of the V-shaped back. "Oh, man," he moaned, and again his tongue sought to bring comfort to every angry stripe across the tortured back. He progressed slowly down from the neck, over the lats and down to the waist. Then he pulled back and gazed in horror at the twin globes of the magnificent ass. They were an angry scarlet from their thrashing and Zack winced. He could almost feel the savage sting of the whip biting into the white flesh.

He cupped the cheeks of the ass in his hands and licked them tenderly, groaning with shame at the pain he had caused. His tongue came near to the crack ... and entered it. He smelt, tasted the musky dampness inside the beautiful ass and licked ravenously at the warm, velvet membrane. He was nearly in tears, brought on by the memory of his own brutality, and by the stunning beauty of the man's ass. He whispered, "I have to have this again, man. I need to be inside you. I have to, buddy."

Bob answered by raising his ass higher, an invitation, a plea, for the long black club to enter him again. And so Zack did. He eased his naked body on top of Bob, lowered it gently and once more penetrated the ass of the man he loved. Bob had been fucked many times the night before but this was entirely different. Gone was the hunger, the desperate need for release. This was slow, tender ... a whisper rather than a shout. It was a soft, loving affirmation of the ultimate union of two beautiful men.

There were no screams at the climax. Zack breathed into Bob's ear, "I'm gonna cum, buddy. I'm gonna pour my juice in your ass. Cum with me, man." And they did. The climaxes were almost not like orgasms. There was no sound except for their soft breathing, no spasms, no shuddering bodies. Quietly, slowly, juice streamed from their cocks, a gentle baptism, a union of souls. Bob felt Zack's semen pouring inside his ass and felt the sticky warmth of the cum flowing from his own cock up over the sheet beneath him. This time the two glorious men had truly made love ... perfect love ... for the first time.

Minutes later they were lying in each other's arms, the intertwined bodies, white and black, illuminated by the striped sunlight shining through the window blind. Zack was still licking the beautiful face, kissing the eyes, nibbling gently on the ears. He pulled back and gazed into Bob's tear-stained eyes. "Never in my life have I been happier than this, buddy. You are sensational. I love you, man ... love your face, your body and especially that incredible ass. I could live inside you, stay here all day."

Then he pushed himself back and leaned over Bob. "But ... we gotta eat. We haven't eaten since yesterday"... he grinned ... "been too busy. You hungry?"

Bob smiled up at him. "Now that you mention it ... starved."

"Good. I'm taking my man out to eat ... show him off ... `Look but don't touch, he's mine'! But first we shower ... together." He leaned forward, unbuckled the leather belt from Bob's neck and hung it on a nail on the wall. "We'll leave that there," he said. "For future use."

In the shack's small, rustic shower Zack's gentle nurturing continued. Soaping up to a rich lather he ran his hands over Bob's wounded body. He fell to his knees and soaped the thighs and calves, then moved his hands back up to the ass. His breathing became heavy as he stood up behind Bob and pressed his rigid cock against his butt. "O, man, this is crazy. But I've got to do it again."

He pressed his body against Bob's back, reached round and put his palms on Bob's chest, gently teasing the hard nipples. With the thick lubrication of lather Zack's cock slid easily inside the waiting ass. The two glorious bodies moved in rhythmic motion, with Bob pushing back against the huge rod, clenching his ass muscles round it each time he felt the pubic hair touch his ass. It was as if they were fucking each other. And this time when the two men shot their loads, the gushing white cream was lost in the heavy foam.

An hour later the two men were seated at a quiet table in what passed as the best restaurant in the modest little town of a Guadalupe. Although the table was somewhat secluded many heads turned to them, the last of the lunch crowd, residents and tourists, dropping their jaws at the sight of these two spectacular men, one white, one black. The men were cleaned up, both wearing jeans and T-shirts.

Zack grinned at Bob. "See the effect you're having, old buddy? They can't get enough of you." He chuckled. "Shit, if they could have seen you a couple of hours ago, spread-eagled naked in that door frame."

Bob grinned. "If they could have seen you! Big black leather stud whipping his naked white buddy almost senseless."

Zack frowned. "Ah shit, man, you have to remind me of that? I still feel bad about it. Not that the thought doesn't make my dick hard, right here under the table."

"Any time you want a repeat performance, just give the order, sir."

Zack leaned forward and spoke softly. "You know, Bob. There's something you gotta do."

"Yes, sir?"

"Stop calling me sir'. You're an alpha male, big guy. There's only one guy in the world you should ever call sir, and that's Randy. He's your master. I'm totally in love with you and I'm in hog heaven being here with you. But you and me, we're buddies, equals. Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm the top man ... always will be. And I'm gonna fuck that sweet ass of yours, fuck your face and even whip your shackled body. Especially now I know it turns you on so much. But you're not my slave. So, no more sir'. We got a deal?"

"Deal," Bob grinned. "And since I'm your buddy, the one with the financial know-how, there's something I want to talk over with you."

"Shoot."

"I've been going over the financial statements you gave me when you asked me for advice. And you know, Zack, you've got a shit load of money lying there ... what with your savings and the pile you got from your wife's life-insurance after her car accident. You gotta do something with it."

"Any suggestions?"

"Of course."

"Thought so," Zack grinned.

"First ... real estate. Buy a house. We're near the bottom of the market right now, so it's a great time to buy." He paused and smiled at Zack. "And here's the selfish bit on my part. There's a house for sale right across the street from ours. The woman is underwater on her loan, close to foreclosure and wants to go live up north with her daughter. So the house is going for a song."

Bob was enthusiastic, warming to his subject. "It's perfect for you ... two bedrooms ... and a basement," he grinned. "It's on a hillside so no pool but you can always run across the street and use our pool." Bob smiled broadly. "I don't imagine any of the guys objecting. Come to that, you can always run across the street when you need anything ... anything at all. Anyway, I know the realtor so I could set things in motion when we get back. What do you think?"

"Sounds perfect ... especially that `running-across-the-street' deal. There could be a lot of that," and Zack rubbed Bob's thigh under the table.

"OK. Now, second ... investments. You'll still have a fair amount left over."

"Stop right there, buddy," Zack said. "That's taken care of ... if you approve. I spoke to Randy last week, told him I was looking to invest in a growing company, in a business I knew something about, could even help to grow. Something like you guys' construction outfit. He was all for it. Even mentioned taking me on as a partner. But he said we'd have to consult you and Mark first."

A huge grin spread over Bob's face. "Consider me consulted, and I vote yes! And I know Mark ... he'll be in favor too. After all, who can refuse an infusion of capital ... and such a macho stud partner?"

"Talking of stud partners, you can help me out with another problem I have."

"What's that?"

Zack smiled. "My cock is hard as steel under the table. You're the cause and you could be the solution. So eat fast. I'm taking you back to the shack. Remember that collar hanging on the wall?"

Bob smiled. "Yes, sir ... oops ... sorry, man."

If the tension in the dunes was dissolving into easy, if sometimes frenzied, action, back at the house the situation was the reverse ... the tension was building. And, of course, Randy set the tone. He was a bear ... morose, silent, his anger flaring up out of nowhere. Mark and the boys were staying out of his way.

Randy was sitting at the table by the pool, slightly drunk, nursing a beer. "Shit!" he breathed to himself. He hadn't realized this would be so hard, hadn't foreseen how depressed he would feel as his mind fixated on Bob and Zack. Not that he regretted his decision. He had encouraged Zack to take Bob up there and finally do what they had both been straining to do since they met.

Randy had spent his own time alone with Zack at the lake in the forest. There they had tested each other's toughness, had fought savagely, competed for supremacy until they realized they were equals, in strength, dominance ... and masculine beauty. So Zack was worthy of Bob and Randy had offered him what he prized most ... Bob's ass. And now Randy knew that ass was getting fucked, again and again, savagely, tenderly ... all the ways Randy fucked Bob.

Randy and Zack were so alike that Randy knew what was happening in the deserted dunes. Shit, he had even given Zack the big leather bag, containing the leather outfit, the collar ... and the whip. Randy banged his fist on the table. He knew that his lover would be tied up, probably spread-eagled and whipped. Zack had mentioned to Randy his obsession about beauty, how he found extreme beauty painful and had to spoil it. They didn't come more beautiful than Bob, so Randy had a fair idea what was happening to him.

Still, Randy knew that Bob wanted this, needed it, so he didn't resent it. It was just the thought of it, the man he loved more than his life being used, fucked, whipped ... loved ... by the magnificent black stud. If only he could be there, at least, see what was going on. Just then his troubled thoughts were interrupted by a young voice.

"Excuse me, sir." Pablo had walked silently up and stood behind his master. He cleared his throat nervously. "I didn't want to interrupt but ... is there anything I can do, sir? Anything to help?"

Without turning round Randy growled. "Not a thing, kid. Get lost."

With a sigh Pablo touched Randy lightly on the shoulder and turned to leave. But the touch made Randy turn round and he watched the kid walking away. He was barefoot in an old tank top and cargo shorts that showed off his glorious ass to perfection.

"Wait! Get your ass back here." Pablo walked quickly back and stood almost at attention.

"Takes some nerve you coming up to me when I'm in this mood. You not scared of me like the others?"

"Yes I am, sir. But I love you and I thought I might be able to help."

Once again, like many times in the past, Randy looked at the brave young kid and his heart went out to him. He was his boy, his adopted son and Randy's attitude softened as he looked at him, standing nervously at attention.

"You've got guts, kiddo, I'll say that for you. But there's nothing you can do. My mind's on Bob, thinking what's happening to him. Jesus, I wish to God he were here right now and it was me fucking him. I'd give anything to be inside that ass.

There was a strange moment of silence. Then Pablo did something surprising. He quickly pulled off his tank top, unbuttoned his shorts and let them drop. He stepped out of them and stood naked before his master, legs apart, hands behind his back.

Randy gasped. "Jesus, kid, you really are my boy, aren't you? Incredible. OK, show me."

Pablo turned round, his back toward Randy, and clenched the muscles of the perfect round globes of his ass. He heard Randy's sharp intake of breath.

The voice was deep. "In the hammock. Now!"

Pablo walked over to the hammock, fell backwards into it, his butt hanging over the end, and he reached up and grabbed the two top corners of the webbing. He lay there, spread-eagled, gazing up at his master.

"You know how I feel, kid. I'm angry, tense, resentful. When I get like that I get vicious. You've seen that in the past. Now are you scared?"

"I am, sir. But I belong to you, sir. My ass belongs to you. I know you want Bob's ass, but maybe you can pretend mine is his."

It was not only the pent up anger that drove Randy now. It was love of this beautiful, plucky young kid. Love ... and pure animal lust. Randy was shirtless in jeans and boots. He ripped open his pants and as they dropped round his knees his huge beer-can cock sprang out, rock hard. He grabbed his boy's ankles and pushed his legs backward, exposing the stunning, vulnerable ass.

"You know I'm gonna hurt you, don't you."

"Yes, sir."

"Like this!" And with one powerful thrust Randy plunged his huge rod deep inside the young man's ass. He saw with satisfaction the dark, exotic face spring backwards, saw the eyes open wide and the mouth open in a scream that rang round the surrounding hills.

But Randy had no mercy. He was a machine, powered by pent-up tension, anger, and a need to show off his power, his total dominance. He imagined Bob submitting to Zack at that moment and Randy needed to exert control, to hurt, to take possession ... to prove that he was the master. The big construction-worker's tension often found expression in sexual release. And this time Pablo was the helpless target of his intense need.

Pablo could usually grit his teeth and endure whatever Randy did to him, but this time was truly intense. He couldn't hold back his screams as he felt himself impaled on the hug cock, felt the steel shaft pierce deep inside his tortured gut. He looked up and saw the blazing eyes of the wild animal, the dark demon, venting his fury on his boy's ass.

Randy was in another world, a delirium of vivid imaginings. He became Zack, fucking Bob. He had to be as tough as Zack, had to fuck the ass just as brutally as the black man.

"That's it fucker," he growled. "Feel that fucking dick in your ass, boy. That's your master's cock, and your ass belongs to me. I am the boss. You think he fucks hard? Well feel this, man."

And the assault became even more brutal, worse than Pablo had ever felt. His terrified eyes streamed with tears, sweat poured off his tortured muscles as he watched the huge body plunge down on him, again and again. He felt the iron rod piston inside him, ripping his ass, sending him into a vortex of pain and ecstasy. His vision became blurred and he knew he would soon pass out, when he heard his master's voice again.

"That's it, fucker. Feel that? Feel your master's cock, boy. It's gonna shoot in your ass. Here it comes. Now you know, asshole. I am king!" The last words were a scream as his whole body shook and his cock erupted inside his boy's agonized ass, stream after stream of hot cum, the explosion of all the juice of his pent-up fury and pain. Only semi-conscious, Pablo had shot his own huge orgasm, drenching his beautiful young body in his own semen. He dimly felt the cock being yanked out of his ass ... and then stillness and silence.

Randy pulled up his pants, strode over to the table, sat down and stared into space, lost in thought, his body heaving and streaming with sweat.

Slowly Pablo came to his senses and painfully began to ease himself off the hammock. His ass was burning, the pain throbbing deep inside him. He crawled across the lawn, grabbed his discarded tank top and shorts and pulled himself unsteadily to his feet. But he had taken only a few steps when he stumbled and fell back to the ground, moaning feebly.

It was at that moment that Randy became aware of the boy, aware of his weakness and pain. Randy sprang to his feet with a wounded cry and ran over to the fallen figure. "Oh, God," he moaned. "Here, kiddo. I'm here. Just relax."

The big construction-worker leaned down and scooped up the limp body in his powerful arms. He carried his boy over to the deep shade of the trees and gently laid him in the long grass. He fell down beside him and put his arm round him. He gazed at the beautiful face and began to lick the tears from his eyes and cheeks. He kissed his mouth gently, kissed his neck, then laid his cheek against him.

"Oh, man. Pablo, I really hurt you that time didn't I? I was really brutal. Jesus, what an incredible fuck! But I lost control ... used your ass to get rid of my anger."

Pablo grinned up at him weakly. "Did it work, sir?"

Randy smiled. "You little punk. Of course it worked. You were incredible, kid, the way you took that punishment, took away all my tension and anger. God, I'm sorry I had to hurt you, kiddo."

"I'm not, sir. I needed to feel the pain, sir. I loved it. I wanted to prove that I was your boy ... that I could help

Randy squeezed the muscular young body. "Of course you're my boy kiddo. I made you my son. I love you, Pablo. I'll never let anyone hurt you like that."

"Except maybe you, sir. Any time you want, sir." And he smiled his crooked grin that always melted the big man's heart.

"Seriously, kid. Are you OK? No real damage?"

"I'm great, sir. Better than ever. A bit tired maybe."

"Then come here. I've got you now, kiddo." Randy wrapped his arms around him and they fell asleep in the long grass.

Meanwhile Darius was feeling his own agitation ... for a different reason. He was obsessed. He could not take his mind off the black muscle-stud he had worked next to for two weeks. He remembered every word Zack had said to him... "It's been great working with you these past two weeks, kid. I really respect you ... like you a lot. But even though we won't be working together now, no reason we can't get together often ..." Zack had laughed as he talked about his upcoming trip to the dunes. "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?"

God, if only Darius had a master like that. He would give anything to be accepted as his boy. Still vivid in his mind was the image of Zack, stripped to the waist, lounging back in a chair and displaying his stunning physique to the awestruck boy. Darius had shot a huge load all over his magnificent chest and then watched all day as Zack worked with the construction crew, the cum drying on his chest. He remembered the private smiles Zack had shot in his direction, secrets between the two of them.

As Darius lay daydreaming on his bed the images were too much. He was already pumping his huge dick and it was as if the picture of the shirtless black muscle-god came to life before him. He imagined Zack standing over him, saw him kneel down and prepare to fuck his ass. "Oh, sir. Please fuck me, sir. Please let me shoot my load again. I need to be near you. Please, sir, let me be your boy. I love you, master ..." And his orgasm exploded, spraying upward onto his face, over his chest and stomach.

His cock was still erupting as he heard Randy's angry voice shouting from below, where he was sitting at the table with Mark. "Where the fuck are you, punk? Stop playing with yourself and get your ass down here, now! We're waiting for dinner." Darius grabbed a T-shirt, wiped as much as he could of the cum from his face and chest, and ran down to join the other two boys in the kitchen. Pablo looked up, stared, and grinned. "Dude! No need to ask what you've been doing, judging by the jism all over you. Fantasizing about Zack, uh?"

"Shit, you know me so well, man. You think Zack will ever let me be his boy?"

"I'd bet my shorts on it, dude. I've seen the way he looks at you. Don't worry, that big black dick will be inside your ass within a week. Now for God's sake help us with dinner. Randy is in a foul mood again."

That last part was true, at least. After his scene with Pablo Randy's tense frustration had diminished – for a while. But his thoughts were still on Bob and Zack in the dunes. He had fucked Pablo hard, imagined it was Bob he was showing who was boss. But it wasn't enough. He needed something else. And so his restlessness and his anger lingered.

It flared up now as Jamie brought out beers for Randy and Mark. Randy grabbed one, and his eyes blazed at the nervous Jamie. "What the fuck's this? Warm beer?! What'd you do, put it in the oven, asshole? Beer is served cold, you shithead. This is crap!" And with a mighty heave Randy hurled the full bottle over the hillside into the distant scrub. Jamie flinched and looked desperately at Mark.

Mark had had enough. He sprang to his feet and barked to Randy, "You, in the basement. Now!" It was the commanding voice the cop used when he told a suspect to "Freeze!" Randy responded by getting up and walking sullenly toward the house. Mark grabbed Jamie's shoulder and smiled at him. "Sorry about that kid. You're my boy and nobody talks to you like that. I'll make it up to you later tonight, OK?"

"OK, sir," Jamie grinned, his dick getting stiff in his shorts.

Mark strode to the house and went down the basement stairs. Randy was sitting on the side of the bed, his head in his hands. The cop's body was heaving as he confronted him. "You were way out of line there, man. Nobody talks to my boy like that and gets away with it." He raised his voice to a shout. "Look at me, asshole!" Randy looked up in time to see Mark raise his arm. He felt the back of the cop's hand smash across his face and he went sprawling across the bed. He shook his head to clear it and sprang to his feet, eyes blazing."

"You want more, asshole?" Mark yelled. "Come on then." He pulled off his T-shirt and stood shirtless, his arms wide apart. "OK, mother-fucker. Here I am. Bring it on. Give it your best shot."

Randy's reflex was to rise to the challenge, but as he looked at his buddy his face crumpled and his knees buckled. He slumped back onto the bed and buried his face in his hands. Mark sat beside him and put his arm round him.

"Oh, man," Randy groaned. "You know I would never hurt Jamie. I'm sorry man. You think you can make it up to him?" He looked at Mark's gorgeous face and grinned weakly. "Of course you can, big guy. Just look at you."

Mark just let him talk. "It's just so fucking tough, buddy. I wanted Zack and Bob to go off together, told Zack he could do what he liked. But now I think about what they're doing, I'm not sure I can take it. I fucked Pablo ... gave the kid a real hard time ... and imagined I was fucking Bob, so I could know what Zack's feeling. But ... I dunno ... I guess I need to feel what Bob's feeling. Zack's hurting his body, I know it. I told him he could. But I need to feel the pain too. Does that make any sense to you, man?"

Mark looked into the big man's troubled eyes. "Knowing you as I do, buddy, it makes perfect sense. And you've come to the right guy. On your feet, asshole!"

A few minutes later the scene was set for what Mark called Randy's therapy. The big construction--worker was standing naked, his arms stretched upward, wrists tied to the gym's chin bar. Before him was Mark, shirtless in just his jeans.

"OK, asshole. I've had enough of you and your moods. I saw from my window what you did to Pablo ... that was way out of line."

Randy bristled. "The kid's my boy and I'll do what I like with him."

"Shut up!" Mark yelled. "I'm in charge now. Then you barreled in on Jamie ... on my boy! OK, asshole, you say you want to know what Bob is feeling. Do you think Zack has whipped him?"

"I'm sure of it."

"Did it feel like this?" Mark quickly slid his belt from his jeans, raised his arm and brought the belt smashing across Randy's muscular chest. "You think that's how Zack began with your lover? The guy's real strong. He must have really thrashed your man ... like this!" As Randy's body bucked and flexed his howls of pain urged Mark on to a brutal lashing. The whipped cracked cross the construction-worker's chest, his flexed abs, his thighs, and curled round the back to slash at the cheeks of his ass. All the time the cop kept taunting the suffering bodybuilder.

"You feel that, stud? That's just what your lover felt ... that's just how Zack whipped your lover. Feel good, man? Bet it felt good to Bob. Bet he begged for more, pleaded with Zack to hurt him. Let me hear you beg, man, just like he did."

"OK, man. Whip my body ... harder, man. OK, I'm begging ... thrash me, hurt me, make me feel what he feels. Please, sir. I need to feel the pain. I need you to thrash me, Zack."

In a delirium of physical and mental agony Randy began to imagine it was Zack wielding the whip, imagined what he had done to the man Randy loved. He needed to purge his mind of the image, needed to absorb Bob's pain by submitting his own body to the lash. His mind was a blur, losing touch with reality. And then the whipping stopped ...

As his shuddering body finally became still Randy saw through his curtain of pain the image of the shirtless cop, and heard his voice. "What else is he doing to your man, buddy? You think he's fucking his ass? You think that huge black dick is impaling that beautiful ass, the ass you own? Jesus, that long, thick rod must be agony for your lover, deep inside him. You want to know how that feels, man?"

"Yes!" yelled Randy. "I need it. I need to feel it. I need to get fucked. I need to feel Zack's dick in my ass. Please, sir. I beg you. Please, fuck my ass sir." Randy was sobbing in a frenzy of mental anguish. But Mark stepped back.

"No, man. I'm not gonna fuck you. You deserve to inflict the pain on yourself. You hurt Pablo, you insulted Jamie, and now you're gonna pay. You're gonna fuck yourself, man."

It didn't take long. Mark had lengthened the ropes binding Randy's wrists to the chin bar, creating more slack. Then he pulled the bed underneath him and Randy stood on it facing the full-length mirror. With the ropes now slack his arms were stretched loosely out to the side. Standing in front of him Mark quickly stripped off his jeans and slid naked on his back underneath him, between his legs. He lay on the bed gazing up at the beautiful, tortured construction-worker, his sweat pouring down onto Mark's naked body.

The stunning man never failed to give Mark an erection, and now was no exception. His huge cock stood rigid, pointing straight up at the construction-worker's ass. "OK, man," Mark ordered, pull yourself up to the bar. Randy grabbed the top of the ropes and flexed, pulling his body up so it hung directly over Mark, his legs bent in front of him.

"Now, you know, asshole. You're gonna fuck yourself. Look at yourself in the mirror, man. And do it!"

Watching his sweating, straining body in the mirror Randy let his hands slide down the ropes, lowering his body slowly toward the man lying on the bed. The position was perfect, his ass poised over Mark's cock, pointing upward like a steel rod. He looked down at the cop's blonde, god-like face and groaned. "Thank you, sir."

"Do it ... now!" Mark commanded.

As he sank lower Randy felt the round head of the cock touch his ass. He sank lower, more quickly now, and watched in the mirror as the head slid past his sphincter and the huge shaft disappeared into his body. He felt it travel inside his burning ass, pass over the inner sphincter and come to rest deep in his gut. He watched the impaled body in the mirror shudder, saw the mouth open, and heard his own scream echo round the room.

"That's it, man. Let me hear you scream. That's how Bob screamed when that huge black dick speared his ass. Now, do it hard. Feel your lover's pain, big guy."

Randy pulled his body up off the cock, then let himself fall back so the rod plunged back inside him. He sat on the cop's pubic hair and moved his ass so he could feel the full impact of his cock deep in his gut. He heaved himself up again, and fell back heavily on the cock. He saw the shattered body in the mirror, saw the arms bulge and flex as the dark, swarthy muscle-god rose up and down, fucking his own ass on the cock of the muscular blonde. He pulled himself up and back, faster and faster.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Oh, man. I need that pain ... need to feel Bob's pain with that huge black dick in his ass. The ass I own is being pounded by Zack, by that fucking gorgeous stud. I want to watch him cum, man. I can't hold back." He screamed, "I'm gonna shoot, man!"

As he slammed back down one last time onto the iron rod beneath him Randy looked in the mirror and saw the naked construction-worker blast a huge stream of white juice high in the air, splashing down onto the glass. The second gush of his multiple orgasm spurted down onto the handsome face and sweating muscles of the cop beneath him.

At the same time, he felt the rod inside him shudder, and felt the hot liquid pouring deep inside his ass. The sight was incredible. The construction-worker was convulsing, his muscle-bound body impaled on the rod of the beautiful cop beneath him. His cock was erupting in stream after stream of cum, the juice of all his pent-up frustration, pain and anger. At last he was free of the tortured image of his lover in bondage. He had felt what Bob felt, matched him in his pain ... they had been whipped together, fucked together. It was the catharsis Randy had needed ... and finally he could rest.

Mark quickly released Randy and they fell into each other's arms on the bed. Randy looked deep into Mark's eyes. "I gotta thank you buddy. Only you could have done that. You're one hell of a man, the best friend Bob and I ever had. I love you, man... Can we stay here tonight?"

"On one condition," Mark said, pulling his cell-phone from his jeans. He was calling Jamie to come downstairs and in a few minutes the handsome young boy walked tentatively through the door and gazed in awe at the sight before him. "Everything's OK, kid," Mark smiled. "Get naked. Randy and I are gonna make up for the way he treated you earlier. Come here, between us."

Jamie trembled, his eyes shining, as he stripped off his clothes. Then he lay down between the two muscle gods ... the dark demon and the Greek God ... and had the night of his life."

Early next morning they were woken by the sound of Randy's cell phone. He answered drowsily, then sat bolt upright. "Zack! What's up, man?" Then, surprisingly, he laughed. "I thought you'd need help, buddy. Knew he was too much for one man. Right away, Zack. I'm on my way. Be up there in three hours."

Turning to Mark he said, "Gotta go, buddy. Back tomorrow night. Thanks for a great night, guys." He grabbed his clothes and shot out of the room.

Out in the dunes Zack came back into the shack, closing his cell phone. He smiled down at Bob, his gorgeous physique stirring as he began to wake. "OK, buddy, here's the deal. After yesterday and last night I realized you're too much of a stud for one guy to handle. So I just called one of my old construction-worker buddies. He'll be over in a few hours and we're gonna work on you together."

Bob's eyes opened wide with fear. "No, man. You and another guy? I can't. Zack, you're scaring the hell out of me, man."

"Don't worry, buddy. This man you're gonna like ... guaranteed. Trust me on this. OK, we've got a few hours ... time for me to get you ready for him. There's a lot I wanna do, so when my buddy gets here he's gonna like what he sees"

He reached up to the wall, took the leather collar off the hook and buckled it around Bob's neck.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength ... Part 75"