A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 75 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER

Zack continues to work Bob over, then calls Randy to join them in the dunes. Speeding north Randy exults, "I knew Zack would need me. Has to be the three of us. Has to be the big black stud and me working together on that gorgeous man of mine." And they do, culminating in the ultimate act of sexual union. Bob: "No! Not two together! You're both too big!" Randy: "Has to be, buddy. It has to be both of us."

As always, guys, I welcome your comments and suggestions. They can be very helpful in planning future chapters. E-mail me at rw6789@aol.com.

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A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 75

Speeding north on the 101 Freeway, the powerful Harley vibrating beneath him, the big construction worker had a permanent grin on his face. When he rushed out of the house Randy had pulled on only his jeans and boots and now he loved the rush of the wind on his naked chest.

"I knew it," Randy thought with immense satisfaction. "I knew Zack would call me. Has to be the three of us. Has to be the big black stud and me working on Bob, that gorgeous son-of-a-bitch. I knew Zack would need me up there."

Gone were the anger and frustration Randy had felt for the last two days. As he rode, he thought over how things had worked out. When he had given his OK for Zack to take Bob away for the weekend he hadn't foreseen how depressed he would feel as his mind fixated on them. Not that he regretted his decision. He had encouraged Zack to take Bob up to the dunes at Guadalupe and finally do what they had both been straining to do since they met.

Randy had already 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. Randy knew that, right now, 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 else 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. He knew that his lover would be tied up, probably spread-eagled and whipped brutally. Zack had mentioned to Randy his obsession about beauty, how he found extreme beauty painful and had to damage it. And they didn't come more beautiful than Bob!

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.

And now here he was, on his way.

He had missed the hell out of Bob and was excited about seeing him, of course, especially after Zack had worked him over. He could imagine how hot that would look. But he was also impatient to see Zack again. When he had fought the muscular leather stud he had felt not only respect for him, but lust, too, and something close to love. Shit, he even had a hard-on right now, on his bike, as he imagined the black muscle-god straddling his naked lover.

Randy's whole body was tingling with the anticipation of seeing these two glorious men together. He throttled the Harley up to 90mph. "I can't fucking wait!" he shouted into the wind.

If Randy was high on eager anticipation, Bob was feeling something quite different ... something like nervous apprehension ... dread even. He had not heard the early-morning cell-phone conversation when Zack had called Randy to come up north. When Zack had come back into the shack, closing his cell phone, he had smiled down at Bob, still in bed.

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

The thought of a stranger teaming up with Zack was way beyond what Bob had imagined when he came up here. He trusted Zack, of course, but the thought of being tied up and worked over by a guy he didn't know was horrifying to him, even though Zack had said, "This guy you're gonna like ... guaranteed. Trust me on this."

"OK," Zack said, "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. "How's that feel, buddy?"

"Feels great ... when you do it."

"Good. Now how many times have I fucked your ass already? Lost count, uh? I whipped that gorgeous body of yours too, and then made perfect love to you all night. But you know what I haven't worked on yet?"

"What?"

"I'm looking at it. That perfect face of yours. Just look at it ... strong, square jaw, high cheekbones, that black hair falling over your forehead. Hmm ... I wonder what Superman looks like when he's getting his face fucked by a big black dick. Guess we're gonna find out."

Both men were still buck naked, and in a few minutes they were outside the shack. Bob knew what was in store for him. The deck in front of the shack had a three-bar horizontal wood railing, and Bob was on his knees with his back to it. His arms were stretched backward over the top rail, then looped forward, with his wrists tied in front of him at his stomach. Zack watched as his captive struggled. His shoulders muscles, chest and arms flexed and bulged with the effort but there was no way out ... Bob was bound tight.

Zack stood in awe before the bound bodybuilder, his cock swelling at the magnificent sight of the helpless stud. He pulled his face up by the hair. In his other hand he held his rigid dick, so close Bob could smell its musky scent. Bob's own cock was rigid with excitement and he breathed deeply, anticipating the thrust of the black shaft into his mouth. But it didn't come.

"I'm gonna leave you to think about this, man," Zack said. "Think about my huge black rod deep in your throat. Then think about me handing you over to the other guy's dick. As I recall it's as big as mine. You're gonna love it when he crams it into your mouth. Just think about it."

Bob again strained at his bonds as Zack turned suddenly, ran down to the surf and jogged swiftly along the beach until he was out of sight. Despite his predicament Bob's first emotion was regret that Zack had gone away. He needed him, needed to see him, to watch him. After everything he had been subjected to he was in thrall to this awesome man. Zack had fucked him repeatedly all night long, had tied him up and whipped him, then made exquisite love to him as only Randy had ever done before. He would do anything for this new master ... for Zack, though, not for some stranger, not some unknown construction worker who might brutalize him.

"It's a mind-fuck!" The thought struck Bob suddenly. Randy had done that to him in the past. After using his body and fucking his ass he had fucked with his mind ... and made him shoot his load. And now Zack had left him here to think, to imagine, to let his paranoia do its work. Perhaps there was no construction worker at all. That's it ... it was just a mind-fuck.

Then he knew that wasn't true. Zack would not lie about something like that. He was preparing him for the man's arrival. He knew Zack was going to fuck his face and then ...God knows what. He moaned to himself, "I need you here, Zack. Please, I need to look into your eyes."

And right at that moment he got what he wanted ... the sight of the naked, muscular black man in the distance, running powerfully toward him. The figure grew rapidly larger until finally the man loomed over him, breath heaving, his powerful muscles pouring with sweat after his run. Bob sighed with relief. Now that Zack was here his fears diminished. He would trust him, and whoever else he chose, to do what he wanted.

Zack's huge dick was pointing directly at Bob's face and he instinctively opened his mouth to swallow it all in. But that didn't happen. Zack smiled down at him, toying with him.

"You want it man, don't you? You want that big black dick in your mouth, pouring juice all down your throat."

"More than anything, man," Bob groaned. "Please let me taste it. I wanna drink your cum."

But Zack had other ideas. His huge cock had often been described as a club ... and now he used it as one. He grabbed it and swung it against Bob's face, first one cheek then the other. Bob gasped as he felt the huge muscle slap against his face. He put out his tongue trying to touch the big round head, but each time the cock swung just out of reach. His shoulder muscles flexed and strained as he leaned forward desperately, pulling frantically at the ropes binding him. Bob was going crazy. His own rigid cock pulsed as he felt the big black dick smashing against his face, and breathed in the musky smell of the sweaty meat.

Zack's excitement grew as he watched the beautiful face swing from side to side under the blows.

"Hell, I wondered what Superman would look like having that handsome face beaten by a big black dick and now I know. God, I love torturing that face with this club of mine. You feel that man? Tell me, stud, what do you want now?"

Tears were running down Bob's face as he gasped, "I want to taste you, man. I want to feel your cock in my mouth. Please, man, I beg you. Fuck my face."

Zack grinned. "You know I can't refuse you anything, buddy. Here it comes ..."

It wasn't subtle. Zack grabbed Bob's hair, pulled his face up and pushed his huge cock into his open, hungry mouth. It slid quickly past the lips, through the membrane of the warm mouth, and down deep into the throat. Bob choked, frantically breathing through his nose, and tears spurted from his eyes as he felt the huge shaft throbbing in his throat. His face was pressed hard into the black man's warm, wet, wiry pubic hair. As he took deep breaths through his nose the smell overwhelmed him and he felt his own cock throb.

"Don't cum yet," the deep voice ordered him. I'm gonna fuck your face." Bob felt relief as the cock was withdrawn, but then it quickly slid back inside his throat. Zack grabbed the sides of Bob's face and held it rigid, and the piston began its rhythmic plunge. Bob saw the slim hips move back and forth as the muscular black body took possession of his ravaged mouth. The sweaty pubic hair smashed into his face and the pounding seemed endless. Zack looked down at the sculpted features of the handsome face being hammered backwards, the black hair flying. He saw the mouth stretched wide open and the eyes streaming with tears.

He growled, "You are such a fucking stud, man. Eat that black cock ... taste it ... smell it. You want me to shoot my load inside you? You wanna cum while you drink my juice, man?"

In answer Bob could do no more than open his eyes wider as he looked up at the wild, ebony face. Bob thought he would choke, would pass out, so in a desperate act he suddenly held his breath and clenched his throat muscles hard around the plunging cock, trapping it deep in his throat.

The effect on Zack was instantaneous... his scream rang through the dunes and his body convulsed. His cock was trapped, squeezed tight, and he felt his semen being drawn from his cock as it started to pour down his prisoner's throat. At the same instant he was aware of hot liquid splashing on his legs from the spontaneous orgasm of the bodybuilder whose face was impaled on his cock.

The two men were in a world of pure physical sensation, no thought, no emotion, just raw virile energy as their cocks exploded. Bob gulped frantically, overpowered by the bitter-sweet taste of the man's cum pouring deep inside him. Finally the flow stopped and the cock pulled out, but his mouth was still full of semen, spilling out down his chin.

Zack was hypnotized by the sight of the exhausted Superman face looking up at him wide-eyed, the face he had just hammered with his huge rod, streaked with tears, mouth hanging open with semen dripping from it onto the black collar round his neck. He fell to his knees and clamped his mouth onto Bob's. They passed the sticky, warm liquid back and forth in their mouths, both drinking the juice of their mutual lust. Zack pulled away and gazed into Bob's tearful eyes.

"You are fucking incredible, man. I've never felt anything like that. God, that face. It looked so fucking hot getting hammered." He stroked Bob's cheek. "You OK, man?"

Bob smiled at him. Incapable of speech he pressed his lips against Zack's and ground their mouths together with the last remains of his spent passion.

An hour later they were lying on the sand with their arms tight round each other. They had slept for a while, had a bite to eat and drunk plenty of water. They were sated and replenished ... and euphorically happy as they lay still, hearing only the sound of the waves and the conspiratorial cry of the seagulls looking down at them. But then the spell was broken. Zack broke away, got to his knees and looked down at the face of the man he had come to love.

"It's time, man. My buddy's gonna be here in half an hour. I gotta get you ready. I want him to see what I've done to you. Hey, I've fucked your ass, whipped you and hammered your face with my dick. I want him to see that. He's gonna love it. It'll make him want you so bad.

A shudder of fear ran through Bob's body. He had forced to the back of his mind the prospect of a stranger, Zack's construction-worker buddy, joining them. The sight of Bob's ravaged, cum-soaked body would stir his lust and Bob would be at his mercy. But he was helpless in the face of the black bodybuilder's determination to put him on display ... to show off what he had done to him. Zack had got up and Bob heard the sound of hammering.

A short while later Zack stared at the ground with satisfaction. "Now that is something spectacular," he said. "God, my buddy's gonna go ape-shit when he sees that." Below him Bob was spread-eagled on his back on the sand, arms and legs stretched tight, his wrists and ankles roped to wooden stakes that Zack had hammered into the ground. The leather collar was still round his neck.

"Let me see you try to get free," Zack ordered, and he gasped as the muscular body began to writhe and flex, pulling at the stakes, head tossing back and forth with the futile effort of freeing himself.

"Incredible, Zack breathed. "Just fucking gorgeous. Now, just a few finishing touches. He took hold of his cock, pointed it at the captive's face and let loose a stream of hot, rancid piss. It poured into Bob's mouth, over his face and body until his muscles gleamed wet in the hot sun. Bob was mesmerized by the sight of the magnificent, naked black stud, legs astride, urinating on him.

But Zack wasn't finished as he gazed down at the spectacular display. "Now I've gotta do this," he said. "You are just too fucking beautiful. And you know how I feel about that, buddy. I can't hold back, man. This is it. Look what you do to me." He stroked his rigid tool just a few times, then threw his head back as cum spurted from his cock, splashing down on the face and chest of the helpless muscle-stud staked out on the hot sand. Again he stood back to look at the finished picture of the spread-eagled bodybuilder covered with semen mixing with pools of urine."

"Oh, yeah," he said. "God that's beautiful. My buddy is gonna love that. Look at you man, a big, beautiful muscle-god, Superman, staked to the ground, collar round your neck. That spectacular physique is still striped by the red welts of the whip from the lashing I gave you. Your face is tear-stained, caked with dry cum from your face-fucking. And your whole magnificent body is gleaming wet with piss and cum. Shit, man, that broken, humiliated super-stud is gonna drive my buddy ape-shit."

Bob closed his eyes and his mind raced with images of what might happen to him. He was terrified, and he sought refuge in the image of his lover, Randy, his master and protector. God, he needed him, longed for him. Randy would have taken care of him.

Just then he heard the sound of an engine behind the shack. The guy was here.

His eyes still closed, Bob heard muffled voices, footsteps going into the shack. He dimly heard the sound of bottles clinking together. The two guys were drinking. Drunk, the stranger would be even worse, he thought ... no restraint or inhibitions. Time went by, then he heard Zack's voice.

"You wanna take a piss, man? There's an outhouse in back but I don't bother with that. Just do it right out here. Come and see what I've got for you man. You're gonna love it."

Bob closed his eyes tight as he heard their footsteps approach. He knew they were looking down at him but he didn't dare open his eyes to look at the stranger. He would probably be some big hulking brute from Zack's former construction site. But finally he took a deep breath and, despite his terror, he finally forced himself to open his eyes.

At first he was blinded by the sun, but then the outlines of a face came into hazy view. As his vision cleared he saw that the face was smiling. It was a handsome face, the muscular physique was stunning. The man was beautiful. Then Bob started to sob with relief and tears poured down his face.

The man was Randy!

"Shit, man," Randy's deep voice growled. "Will you look at that! Fucking incredible, man. You've sure done a number in this guy. Looks like you whipped him good, face-fucked him, then pissed on him and shot your load over him. You work on his ass too?"

"All night long," Zack grinned.

"Didn't leave much for me, buddy. Still, he looks like he can take a lot more. Shit, he's gorgeous. What a beautiful fucking stud. You sure he's staked out real good?"

"Check it out."

"OK, asshole," Randy snarled. "Let me see you get free."

Bob was overcome with waves of relief to see his lover. Now he knew he was safe. And he wanted to put on a show for him. He stretched, writhed and strained in his bondage, flexing every muscle in his glorious body as he heaved at the ropes trying to free himself. He knew how that looked and what a huge turn-on it would be for his master. And he was right.

Randy gazed down at the spread-eagled bodybuilder staked down in the sand. "Oh man," he moaned. "Look at that fucking body, the stripes of the whip, the tortured face. Zack, my man, you have done us proud. That is one broken fucking stud."

"Thanks, buddy. Er, you said you wanted to take a leak?"

"Damn right," Randy said, throwing his arm over Zack's shoulder. "Let's do it."

Bob looked up at the two powerful muscle-gods. He focused on their cocks and watched as they began to stream with urine. Once again his body was drenched in the rancid, golden liquid as the two streams poured over his face and his body. He heard Randy's laugh.

"Hey, Zack. Think you can cum again?"

"Buddy, this man can make me cum whenever I want."

As they gazed down at the helpless, spread-eagled bodybuilder, muscles gleaming with piss, the two men pumped their dicks hard. Soon there were two triumphant yells and two rivers of semen were gushing over him, mingling with the pools of urine.

Bob was in a delirium of lust and desire. He was helpless, staked to the ground, at the mercy of these two stunningly beautiful masters. They had pissed on him, cum all over him and now they towered over him, gazing in awe at his ravaged body. Suddenly Randy fell to his knees astride him and looked into his eyes. He smiled and spoke softly, gently.

"How you doing champ? Zack take good care of you?" Bob's eyes were shining. "That good, uh?"

"What does it look like?" Bob smiled feebly.

"Looks fucking spectacular, man. Looks like he did everything I would have done."

Bob's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "Thank you for coming here, sir. I really needed you."

Randy's voice softened. "I know, Bob. Me too. But you know I always look out for you. You're my life, buddy."

He stood up, threw his arm over Zack's broad shoulder again and grinned down at the cum- and pissed-stained man. "OK, you've got two masters now. Take a good look at us, asshole. Think you can take on the two of us?"

"Absolutely, sir. Anything you say. Anything at all."

Zack knew instinctively that the two lovers needed a few moments alone. "I'm going for a swim," he said. "Come join me when you're ready." He ran down to the ocean and launched his long black body into the waves.

Randy was already kneeling over the captive, untying the ropes. Looking into his eyes he slowly unbuckled the collar from round his neck. "Won't be needing this for a while." When Bob was free Randy scooped him up in his arms and held him tight, kissing his eyes and licking his face. "You sure you're OK, man? Looks as if he worked you over real good."

"He's spectacular, Randy. He fucked me, whipped me, tied me up and fucked my face ... and I loved all of it, even when it hurt. It was just the way you've always worked me over. But you now what? ... through it all I missed you like hell."

Randy smiled. "Zack knew that too. That's why he called me, told me to come up here. He's a hell of a guy, buddy. That's why I entrusted you to him. But he knows, as I do, that we three belong together. We're three of a kind. We're perfect ... except for one thing."

"What's that?" Bob asked anxiously.

"You smell like a fucking pig farm. You stink of piss and cum. Let's go wash it off."

Laughing loudly Randy pulled off his boots and jeans, hauled Bob to his feet and they ran down the beach and joined Zack in the waves. It was a scene of lusty, virile exuberation as the three muscle-gods rough-housed in the heaving surf. They had all gone through intense trials of strength and survived magnificently. And here they were, finally, all together, joining in a jubilant celebration of the masculine power and beauty that all three incredible men shared.

Sometime later they were all soaking up the sun, lying naked on a huge blanket that Zack had stretched out on the sand against the railing of the shack's deck. They weren't saying much. They were just luxuriating in their closeness, in the intimacy of men who had shared strange, exotic experiences, private, intense ... secrets known only to them.

The silence was broken by Randy's soft voice. "You know, guys, we're not quite there. There's still something else ... the final act of union."

Zack knew what he meant but let the master lead the way. Randy was still lying on his back and he said to Bob, "Kneel over me, buddy." He obeyed and the lovers gazed into each other's eyes, connecting in that mysterious, intense symbiosis that neither understood but had come to recognize at times like this. They ran their hands over each other's chests and began squeezing the nipples, moaning and flexing their pecs.

"God, I love you, man," Randy said. "We're perfect together. But buddy, I want Zack to be a part of us. Are you OK with that?"

Bob smiled. "I'm in love with both of you. Does that answer your question?"

"Right," Randy said. "Here we go, then." Randy grasped Bob's hips and pulled him forward so his ass was poised just over Randy's rigid dick. "You know what to do, man."

Eagerly, Bob eased himself down, felt the head of his lover's cock press against his hole, then enter it and slide easily deep inside his ass. Both men sighed with intense pleasure as once again they were joined in the way they loved best. The rhythm was gentle as Bob rose and fell on the huge, stiff pole.

Bob was only dimly aware of Zack walking into the shack and then returning. He brought with him an old mirror he'd had stashed in a closet, and set it against the railing, right behind Randy's head. Bob smiled as he now saw the reflection of his own muscular body rising and falling on Randy's cock. Randy pulled Bob's head forward until their faces were locked in a tight embrace.

As Bob leaned far forward he forgot all else, even when Zack stirred behind him. Then his face pulled back from Randy and he stared in horror into the mirror. He felt the head of Zack's cock, that huge black club, pressing against his ass that was already filled by Randy's thick tool. He looked down at Randy.

"No, I can't, man. No way ... I can't do that. Not both of you." He looked up at the mirror, at the reflection of the stunning black face behind him. "I'm sorry, man. You're both so big. There's no way."

"Bob!" Randy's commanding voice silenced him. Then the tone softened. "Look at me, buddy, into my eyes." Bob felt he was drowning in the pale blue eyes. "OK, now look up at Zack." He saw the exquisitely sculpted ebony face in the mirror staring back at him. He looked down at Randy again, then up at Zack.

There was such intensity, an electric charge in the air, that Bob became hypnotized by the sight of these two magnificent men. One was his master, who he loved more than his own life. The other was the spectacular black man who had recently taken him into a world so physically exhilarating that he had fallen in love.

And suddenly Bob knew. He had to have both of them. He had to do this. Nothing else would do. It had to be this. He leaned forward, his face very close to Randy's and gazed into his eyes.

"Trust me," Randy breathed. "I'll help you, buddy." Randy saw Bob's face wince with pain as Zack increased the pressure on his ass. The pain intensified and Bob whispered to Randy, "I can't, man. I can't take it."

"Yes you can. Look at me."

Bob gazed deep into the blue eyes and he felt Randy take control. It was a kind of hypnosis. His body relaxed, he was in a trance and was only dimly aware when the huge black cock pushed inside his ass and slid down alongside the shaft of his master. Bob opened his eyes wide, looked up at the handsome black face in the mirror thrown back in ecstasy, then looked back at Randy. Bob's body was on fire. The electricity in the air struck him like lightning and he convulsed with a sensation he had never felt before.

Randy smiled at him and spoke softly. "This is it, Bob. Feel it ... the most sensational feeling of your life. You, old buddy, are being fucked by the two finest masters in the world. You deserve this, man ... you need it. Only you. You are so fucking beautiful, and your ass is being double-fucked by the men who own you."

And so it began, as two monster cocks started to slide against each other in the burning depths of the muscle-stud's ass. Maybe there was pain ... there had to be ... but Bob didn't feel it. As he looked at both his masters, Randy beneath him and Zack behind him, reflected in the mirror, he was aware of nothing but the exquisite fullness in his ass as the two men fucked him together.

Randy and Zack too were shuddering with excitement. Never had either of them felt anything like this. The man they both loved was between them taking both their cocks in his ass. Zack looked over Bob's shoulder and down at Randy, the man he had fought, the man who had fucked him, the man he had come to love like a brother. Each felt the other man's cock, squeezed tight, sliding against his own in the burning ass. They felt an extraordinary closeness, an intimacy, joined as one man in the act of fucking his lover.

Zack moaned softly to Randy, "Doesn't get any better than this, you son-of-a-bitch. God, my cock feels incredible sliding against yours. You're a fucking god, man." He pushed against Bob's back, leaning far forward over his shoulder, far enough to press his mouth against Randy's. They crushed their lips together as they gently slid their cocks against each other.

Randy pulled his face free and gazed at Zack. "He's ours now, man. That ass belongs to both of us ... and we're both inside it. Only you, Zack, only you could do this. I love you man. You're so fucking gorgeous ...so ...fucking pornographic!" Randy's voice rose to a shout. "Come on, man. Let's do it! Let's fuck!"

They completely lost control. In a frenzy of macho power they moved their hips faster and plunged their cocks deep into the bodybuilder's tortured ass. It was like twin pistons, grinding against each other as they pounded inside the furnace. Bob was unaware that he was screaming. It wasn't pain, it wasn't lust. He was simply flying. His ass was impaled on the cocks of two magnificent muscle-gods and it was the most spectacular feeling of his life.

They were all howling like wild animals now, in a primitive ritual of lust. The hammering was reaching a crescendo and they all knew they couldn't hold back for long. Randy's wild eyes flashed at Zack. "Fuck him, man ... hard. Fuck my lover. Let me feel your big black cock inside his ass. Oh, man. That's it. This is it. You ready, man?"

Their screams shattered the stillness of the dunes. Bob's eyes suddenly flew open as he felt the heads of both cocks pass together over his inner sphincter and come to rest deep in his gut ... both of them pulsing together. They were streaming hot juice inside him. His two masters were pouring their semen deep inside his body. He watched in a trance as the flexed muscles of his lover beneath him were splashed by a river of white cream. It was Bob's own hot juice, blasting out of him over his master's body. His last sight was of the wild, dark demon face ... and then he fell forward unconscious.

It must have been only a short while, but when Bob came to he was lying on his back. He opened his eyes and saw seagulls whirling overhead, screaming their angry reproach at what had taken place beneath them on the sand.

Then he felt arms round him, strong arms holding him, protecting him. His head fell to the left and he was gazing into Randy's smiling blue eyes. He turned it right and there was Zack's spectacular ebony face, gentle now, loving.

He looked upward again in defiance of the screaming gulls. He laughed at them as they whirled over him. They couldn't hurt him. Nothing, nobody could. He was invincible. He was loved, protected by two of the most glorious men on earth.

Time seemed to slip sideways. And Bob knew that this very instant... lying here on the hot sand in the dunes ... was a moment he would feel, in all its intensity, for the rest of his life.

If the events in the dunes were euphoric, the scene back at the house in the city could only be described as quietly domestic. It was just the three boys, on their own for a change ... no masters.

Mark had woken at dawn and, as always, turned to Jamie beside him and made love ... fucking his beautiful ass for the second time that night. Jamie had made him an early breakfast and Mark had left on an eight-hour tour of duty, his police motorcycle throbbing beneath him all day. And Jamie knew what that meant when he returned home. His ass again.

For everyone else today was a holiday, so for now it was just the boys, lounging outside at the breakfast table. And as always they were talking a mile a minute, led of course by Darius whose fantasies were naturally getting the better of him. And just as naturally the subject was Randy, Bob and Zack.

"Shit, dudes," he said, "I'd give anything to be there ... with my camera. I'd get enough footage to keep me awake nights for weeks."

"What do you think they're doing?" asked Jamie, wide-eyed.

"What are they not doing?" grinned Pablo. "OK, first it was just Bob and Zack ...?

"... and you know what that means," interrupted Darius, impetuously taking over the wild speculation. "You just know Bob got his ass fucked over and over by Zack. Then they probably made love for hours and hours."

"Then what?" Jamie asked.

"Well," said Darius, puffing himself up as the know-all teacher. "You know, dudes, while I was working closely with Zack I got to know him pretty darn well. He's a fucking muscle-god, a real alpha male, a top man, and he would sure as hell let Bob know it."

"How do you mean?" queried Jamie.

"Well, first he'd tie him up good."

"You mean bondage?" said Jamie, his eyes shining.

"OK, dude, we know you love it when Mark does that to you." Jamie blushed. "But this is different, real heavy duty. And I happen to know ..." he paused for dramatic effect. "I happen to know that Zack took Randy's leather bag with him, and you know what that means."

"What?" Jamie's eyes were wide open.

"The whip, of course," Pablo laughed. "You know that Zack tied Bob up and whipped that gorgeous body real good ... to show him who's master."

Jamie recoiled. "Whipped him?"

"Sure," they both said in unison.

There was a long silence as each young man tried to imagine what that looked like. Jamie looked troubled.

"I ... I wonder what that feels like," he muttered.

"Depends on who's doing it," grinned Darius.

Again Jamie's eyes opened wide. "It never happened to you guys, did it?"

"You kidding?" Pablo said. "Once when Darius and me were fighting each other Randy hit the roof. Got real mad ... you know how angry he can get ... Anyway, he roped us together facing each other and whipped us ... real hard. That was our punishment."

"Didn't it hurt?"

Darius grinned. "Sure it did ... hurt like hell. But you know what?" Darius rubbed the bulge in his shorts at the thought. "We ended up shooting a huge load of jism against each other. Randy can make you do that. Jeez, that was a trip and a half, dude."

Again Jamie seemed lost in thought. "I don't think Mark would ever do that to me."

"Oh, Mark's different," said Pablo. "See, him being a cop and all, he don't like using force when he's off duty. Besides, he loves the hell out of you dude. And I bet he's gentle, even when he ties you up."

"Still," mused Darius. "I guess if you made him mad enough he'd have to punish you. Maybe then he'd whip you." He paused. "Hell, I'd like to see that muscle-god, in his full uniform, cracking a whip. What a fantasy. That's enough to make me shoot my load right here."

"Hey, save it for later, dude," Pablo said. "Let's go for a swim." Together the two boys dropped their shorts and dived naked into the pool, leaving Jamie to clear away the breakfast things.

In the kitchen the blonde young stud gazed out of the window. In his mind's eye he had a clear image of his master, the magnificent cop standing legs astride in his black uniform. The black shirt, open at the neck showing a triangle of white T-shirt, tapered from the broad shoulders down in a V to his narrow waist and the heavy leather belt. The black pants were tucked into his high, shiny motorcycle boots. His eyes were hidden behind mirrored glasses.

Darius was right. Mark really was a god. Jamie remembered the times that the cop had handcuffed him to the bed and run his hands over his young body, ending up fucking his ass while he was still in bondage. That always made him shoot his load without even touching his cock. He loved it when the powerful cop controlled him like that, even if it hurt. He longed for Mark to dominate him completely.

Now it was Jamie's turn to fantasize. Suddenly the image that came to mind was of the uniformed cop holding a whip, cracking it on the ground. Jamie gasped, the picture was so clear to him. He was not even aware that he had pulled his dick from his shorts and was stroking it. He imagined himself naked, tied helpless in front of his master. The cop took off his glasses and his chiseled blonde features were tense as his eyes blazed at him.

Jamie started to moan. "I misbehaved sir. I know you're gonna punish me, sir. I deserve it. Are you gonna whip me, sir? Please, sir ... I need it. Please whip my body, sir." He saw his master's face, saw the arm raise, saw the whip flashing toward him. His body jerked and he screamed ... and shot a huge stream of cum over the kitchen window.

Reality came crashing back to him. He actually blushed with shame and anger as he realized what he had done, what he had fantasized about. Frantically he grabbed a cloth and rubbed hard at the window until the white cream was gone. He looked out the window, afraid that his scream had been heard, but the guys were splashing loudly in the pool.

He took a deep breath and collected himself. Mark would never do anything like that to him. Mark was gentle with him, loved him. He would never hurt him in that way. But as he stood there in a trance the image of the cop with the whip wouldn't leave his mind. His cock began to get stiff again. "I'm his boy," thought Jamie. "He's my master and that means he can do anything to me. But he would never do something like that ... ever."

Then Darius's words came back to him. "Still, dude, I guess if you made him mad enough he'd have to punish you. Maybe then he'd whip you."

And it was then that Jamie made up his mind.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength ... Part 76"