Here is the latest adventure of the two glorious muscle gods, Randy and Bob.
I should perhaps mention that as the series progresses the cast will expand to six guys, three masters and the three boys who serve them. (One of the masters is "the most beautiful cop ever to straddle a Harley.")
The action will become less brutal than the current S&M scenes as it explores their relationships, though there will still be plenty of hardcore action.
But for now, I hope you get off on the latest chapter. As always, I welcome your feedback, so email your thoughts to me at rw6789@aol.com.
A TRIAL OF STRENGTH ... Part 9 by Rob Williams
As they drove back to the city the two men were at last completely relaxed with each other. No, it was much more than relaxed. They knew now that they were bound together in an inextricable union, ethereal even, that went far beyond thought or reason. They were of the same flesh, blood brothers, whose feelings, sensations and intuitions were in complete harmony.
For two straight men, confident, self-assured, muscular alpha males, love was a word they had been reluctant to use, but that was before their extraordinary experiences in the remote seclusion of the high Angeles National Forest. Pounded by the violent thunderstorm, they had experienced an epiphany and screamed their love for each other. They had crossed the last physical boundary and penetrated each other's bodies, anointing each other with hot streams of semen like a baptism.
Their relationship had been forged in a crucible of pain, with each beautiful man undergoing bondage, savage whipping, punishment and humiliation. Their friendship had undergone many changes until, as Randy fucked Bob's beautiful ass, they knew without a doubt that Randy was master. Bob would submit to him, physically and sexually, whenever Randy wanted.
With one hand on the steering wheel Randy threw his arm across Bob's broad shoulder and they drove home.
'Home' was the wrong word. As they let themselves into the squalid motel room they knew at once that they had to move. They would establish a new life together. But for now ... they exchanged knowing looks and read each other's mind.
"One last time in this rat-hole?" Randy asked.
"Yes, sir. Please."
As Randy held Bob's intense gaze he ran his hands over the sweat-stained, powerful muscles and began to strip his buddy naked. He pulled the mud-caked tank over his head, over the solid six-pack abs, then the stunningly defined chest muscles. He loosened Bob's jeans and, falling to his knees, removed the boots and jeans and looked up at the glorious man, naked except for his boxers.
He stood up, stripped off his own clothes, and turned Bob round to face the full-length mirror. He took two long ropes from his bag and tied the bodybuilder's wrists to the beam in the ceiling, his arms spread wide. He kicked Bob's legs wide apart and tied one ankle to the bed and the other to the hook in the opposite wall.
Standing behind him, he reached round and in one swift wrench ripped the boxers clear of his body. Bob's big cock swung free as he stood naked, spread eagled, straining in tight bondage. The wide stretch of his legs made him clench the cheeks of his ass into hard, bulging mounds.
Randy picked up the whip with the multiple leather thongs and looked at the prefect V of his friend's lats as they tapered down to the slim waist and perfect ass. The back was a blank canvass just waiting for the whip. The ass was an inviting pure white that was begging to be warmed up.
Randy brought the whip crashing across the heaving back muscles and the huge body convulsed in pain and pulled at the restraints. After thrashing the back, Randy turned to the flexing bulges of the beautiful ass. He lashed it repeatedly until it had changed from pure white to an angry red. He continued the torture until both men were exhausted and streaming with sweat. Randy threw down the whip and pressed his body close behind Bob. He breathed in his ear.
"God, you are so fucking hot. You should be put on display, you know that? People would pay good money to see that. Now that you've been thrashed and your ass is on fire, look in the mirror. Get a good look at yourself, stretched and helpless. Now look into your own eyes."
His back and ass still stinging with pain Bob got off on the glorious image in the mirror. It was as if he was looking at a beautiful stranger, until he gazed at his face and saw himself reflected in his own eyes. As he drank in the sight, his cock began to stiffen and he watched as it grow into a raging erection. Randy had shown him how to make love to his own image.
Randy stroked the mounds of Bob's whipped ass and his own cock quickly stiffened. He knelt behind him and buried his face between the beautiful mounds, pushing his tongue as far as he could into the warm, moist hole. Both men groaned in pleasure as the big construction worker hungrily licked, sucked and ate his buddy's tortured ass.
Finally Randy stood up and again pressed his body into Bob's back. He brought his raging hard-on closer to Bob's ass and stroked the opening with the huge head of his dick. He drove Bob to a pitch of desire.
"Please, sir. Please. Put it inside me. Fuck me. Fuck my hole. It's yours."
Randy eased forward and his huge rod slid easily inside the furnace of the ass. He pushed it deep and let it rest all the way inside him. He brought his hands round to Bob's chest and twisted his nipples. Bob moaned in ecstasy as he looked at the reflection of himself and the dark, burly man behind him whose cock was deep inside his ass.
Slowly, Randy pulled back until the head of his cock was almost clear, then just as slowly he pushed back in. Bob's muscular body, spread eagled in bondage, was at the mercy of the sinewy construction worker. And this is how it continued for a long time, both men lost in the rhythm of their bodies moving together, the huge rod churning inside the clenched ass that was now on fire.
Randy knew how to excite his buddy. The pain of the vicious whip torture was now replaced by the slow, tender movement of Randy's cock sliding gently in and out of the bound man's ass. Fucking could be brutal, but this time it became a loving, almost spiritual sensation. They held each other's penetrating gaze in the mirror as the fire in their groin intensified. They knew they were both close. Randy pushed deep inside his friend's ass and then ... he stopped still.
They were both motionless as their cocks grew rigid. Without moving Randy felt his pulsing cock begin to pour semen into the man he loved. At the same time he watched Bob's cock pour a thick stream of creamy liquid onto the mirror.
Feeling his own orgasm and watching his friend's it was for Randy as if he saw in the mirror his own flood of semen splashing against the glass. Their orgasms had become one, their cocks pulsing and erupting in one incredible spontaneous stream. They never left each other's gaze, never uttered a sound. They stared in silent wonder at the two beautiful men in the mirror erupting in endless ejaculation.
Randy held his cock inside his buddy for a long time. Then slowly he pulled out and stepped back. Quickly he released the heaving body and dropped Bob onto the bed. He lay down beside his friend and held him tight, their flawless bodies joined together by the sweat pouring off them. That was the last time they would make love in this squalid room where they had shared so much. It was now time for them to build their life together.
It is a fact of life that, when two people fall in love, all the other issues or problems they face pale into insignificance. It is as if they live a charmed life. And so it was with these two straight men who were undergoing major life changes, their lives turned gloriously upside down. The two self-sufficient alpha males were now joined as one, doubly strong, and there was nothing they couldn't do with and for each other. Everything fell into place for them.
Bob had no problem transferring to the larger and more prestigious Los Angeles office of his firm, where he would soon be made a vice-president. On the personal level he knew that his marriage had disintegrated and his wife had not unexpectedly filed for divorce in Northern California.
Randy's days as an itinerant construction worker were over. The L.A. company he worked for took him on full time as a site foreman. His marriage back in San Antonio back was also foundering; he had known for some time that his wife had a lover.
The men looked for a place together, and finally leased a house in the Mount Washington section of the Los Angeles, an old-established, hilly neighborhood, it's narrow, winding streets lined by large, mature shade trees. The house was a good-sized old craftsman home that needed some work, which Randy could easily handle. Best of all, there was a large basement that had once been used as a gym. The full-length mirrors were still in place, as were the various chin bars, hooks and spot lights. They guys knew that it had definite possibilities.
So they left the seedy motel without regret, though as they took one last departing look their minds hovered briefly back on the extraordinary, traumatic and painful events that had forged their friendship. Then they drove away to begin their lives together.
In the weeks before their new jobs began the two men spent most of the time together and established a comfortable daily routine. They spent hours fixing up their new home, though money was tight until their paychecks started coming.
One regular feature of their lives was their daily workout at the gym where they could indulge their physical needs, working hard in strenuous, exhausting routines. Part of their satisfaction was in watching their buddy's muscular body flexing, stretching and straining with weights and cables. The image excited them in anticipation of the private physical exertions they would enjoy later at home. Randy was especially turned on as Bob hung from the chin bar and punished his ripped muscles in repeated chin lifts. His chiseled face grimaced in pain, his lats flared and the veins were etched in his chest, biceps and shoulders.
Randy was not the only one to be turned on. The two magnificent men turned many heads, male and female, as the other members surreptitiously watched the stunning workout partners challenge each other in bone-crunching exercise. And when they swam after the workout there was many a hidden erection as guys watched the beautiful bodies, wearing only Speedos, climb out of the pool, their gleaming muscles streaming with water.
Two of the members, older guys, were especially focused on the dazzling sight. They made no secret of their admiration and Randy and Bob were very aware of their eager attention. In fact they purposely flexed and strained, knowing the effect they were having. As the two friends relaxed afterward at the juice bar Bob said,
"You're such a fucking exhibitionist, you know that? Those guys were totally turned on watching you."
"Watching us, you mean. I told you before, some people would pay good money to watch you and your incredible body. You're such a fucking turn-on."
As if to confirm their words, the two older guys came over to the table, sat down and introduced themselves ... Paul and Mitch. After some small talk, Mitch said,
"You guys are a total turn-on, and I think you know it. So I'll come straight to the point. Paul and I have a circle of friends, about twenty guys, who have formed a sort of club. We are all quite wealthy, and we are all voyeurs, meaning that we get off watching and drooling over gorgeous men. And you are two of the best."
"Look," Randy said hastily, "there's one thing you should know. We're both completely straight."
"We know that," Mitch replied. "That's obvious. And that makes it all the better. You see, we have a proposition. Here it is in a nutshell. Spend twenty-four hours with us and the other guys and just let us get off watching your beautiful bodies. That's it. We would make no sexual demands, wouldn't even touch you .... just watch. You both apparently have quite an exhibitionist streak and you're very competitive, and that's perfect. There might be some self-inflicted pain involved, but I suspect that you guys are no stranger to that. Am I right?"
Randy and Bob grinned in silent affirmation.
Mitch continued, "What's in it for you, you ask? Apart from getting off looking at each other, which I'm sure you do, there's five grand apiece. Cash. As I said, we're all wealthy and we have quite a setup in the Hollywood Hills. You'll be perfectly safe, well cared for. And you'll have a good time. Talk it over. We'll be back in a minute."
The guys walked away, leaving Randy and Bob gaping at each other. They were not sure they could get their minds around this astonishing offer. Randy broke the silence.
"Well, we could sure use ten thousand bucks right now. And the guy's right. We're shameless exhibitionists and I never get tired of looking at you. I've always wanted to show you off to an audience. Getting paid is the icing on the cake. We can take care of ourselves, and each other. How about it?"
The deal was sealed. When Mitch and Paul returned they gave their address and a date was set for the next Friday evening.
"You don't need to bring anything," said Mitch. Just your glorious selves."
As they drove along Mulholland Drive on the spine of the Santa Monica Mountains high above Los Angeles, the guys were feeling a mix of anticipation, excitement and some apprehension. They finally swung into the driveway of a large estate hidden behind trees and high hedges.
"Very impressive," said Bob. "Sure beats that old motel room we knew and loved."
"It should be impressive," Randy grinned, "if they can afford ten grand just to watch two guys get off one each other. Well, let's give them something they'll remember."
They buzzed the intercom and a voice said, "Hi, guys, welcome," and the gate swung open. A few minutes later they were standing with Mitch in a room that amazed them. It was basically a large gym, lined floor to ceiling with mirrors and with chin bars, hooks, rings, wall bars and various other pieces of equipment. One half of the room was an empty raised platform, with elaborate theatre lighting hanging from the ceiling. At the other end of the room were benches and chairs for an audience. It was in fact a small theater, just waiting for the performance to start.
"Elaborate, no?" asked Mitch. Several members of our group are studio executives so they have access to lighting, costumes, all the effects you need for a show. That's where you guys come in. The other members will be here soon. Come with me and I'll show you where you can change. Bob and Randy were taken to separate rooms on either side of the stage, elaborate dressing rooms with racks of clothes of every description.
"Let's get started," said Mitch.
Half an hour later Randy and Bob walked out of their rooms onto the stage that was pitch dark. They were aware from the muffled sounds that the audience was now seated. After everyone settled, the ceiling lights came up slowly. A collective gasp came from the spectators. The two men were face to face and took a sharp intake of breath as they looked at each other. What they saw made their cocks stiffen.
Randy had never seen Bob look more stunning than he did now. He was wearing a full cop uniform. The black shirt, with shoulder flashes on the sleeves, a police badge and nameplate on the pocket, was open at the neck to give a glimpse of the white T-shirt underneath. Bob's broad shoulders and big chest were evident under the tight shirt, the sleeves pushed up by the bulge of his biceps. The shirt tapered to the slim waist of black pants with a silver stripe, tucked into high shiny black boots. Attached to the heavy black belt were regulation handcuffs. Bob's eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses.
Bob was equally turned on by the sight of his buddy. Randy was in full leather ... tight black leather pants, heavy black boots and a leather vest over a sleeveless denim shirt that barely concealed a white tank underneath. His muscles bulged under the shirt, his bare shoulders and arms gleaming under the lights. He too wore mirrored sunglasses.
Near them, at an angle to the audience, was a big full-length mirror. Standing side by side the two guys turned to look into it. In this way they were facing the spectators who, in the darkness, were just a blur to them. They gazed at their extraordinary images in the mirror, and the audience was equally awestruck at the unbelievable sight.
Although dressed differently the two men were equal in size, muscularity, authority and stunning beauty. As they looked at the supremely masculine images side by side Bob and Randy instinctively knew that this was to be a trial of strength to determine dominance. One of the men, the cop or the leather man, had to come out on top. Subconsciously they also knew that this was also exactly what the club members wanted, turned on at the thought of watching these two men battle for supremacy. As a kind of trophy, a broad leather collar was prominently displayed at the side of the stage. The loser would wear it.
But before the battle began the cop and the leather man had to acknowledge the other in recognition of his strength and beauty. Their dicks were now raging hard and they both unzipped their pants and pulled out the huge rods. Their eyes riveted to the dual image before them, they began to stroke their meat as they gloried in the sight of this ultimate archetype of masculinity.
As the fire rose into their groin they took off their glasses and stared into each other's eyes. A smile came to their lips as they silently acknowledged each other, and they shot simultaneous streams of hot white semen out toward the gasping spectators. The club members had never seen anything to equal this and there were more than a few orgasms among them. The lights faded to black.
Now the battle had to begin. When the lights came back up the men were facing each other and Randy reached over to Bob's shirt. Very slowly he began to unbutton it, revealing more and more of the white T-shirt stretched over the bulging pecs. He pulled the shirt out of the pants and it hung open. Randy unbuttoned his own shirt slowly, uncovering the white tank. He took off the leather vest and let the shirt hang open.
Turning to face out to the spectators the men took off their shirts and let them drop. There were more gasps from the club members as they took in this stunning new image. The cop was now stripped to his T-shirt, which stretched over the massive chest and tapered down into the tight waist of the cop pants. The leather man was spectacular as his muscles strained against the old white tank tucked into his leather pants. Again there were moaning sounds of men reaching orgasm.
Randy looked around for what should be the first test to see who was the tougher and stronger of the two. Hanging from the ceiling behind them, as part of the gym equipment, hung two sets of rings used for pull-up exercises. Randy looked at Bob and each understood what the first trial was to be. Together they jumped up and gripped the rings, each man hanging side by side. They hung motionless, their straining muscles flexing to absorb the pain, the cop in white T-shirt and the leather man in white tank.
Slowly they began to move to relieve the throbbing in their arms. They reached up to grab the ropes, twisted their bodies and thrashed their legs in attempts to ease the pain so they could hold on longer. The twisting bodies were reflected multiple times in all the mirrors surrounding them. The spectacle of these two bodybuilders writhing and kicking as they hung before them brought gasps and moans from the spellbound spectators.
The show lasted a long time as both men were determined not to drop first. Their bodies streamed with sweat, so the T-shirt and tank became transparent, clinging to the muscles etched underneath. Their shoulders and arms racked with pain, the cop and the leather man began to groan in agony as they gripped the rings hard and thrashed in pain. They began to taunt each other.
"Give up asshole. You know you can't win."
"Go fuck yourself. You're nothing. You'll never last."
"You piece of shit. Submit. Give in. Your muscles are ripping apart. Drop, dammit."
They were losing their sense of space and time, forgetting where they were and how long they had hung there, but they held on interminably. Finally it was as if they blacked out. They released their hold and dropped simultaneously, both men sprawling on the floor. Neither had won. They lay one atop the other, lungs gasping, their ripped bodies heaving in pain.
Now standing facing each other they knew that it would take a huge effort for one to defeat the other. And it was becoming personal. The cop and the leather man again gloried in the sight of each other. Their bodies gleamed with sweat and the shirts clung tightly to the heaving chests. Time to strip them off.
They turned to face out to the audience and reached up and back behind their neck, pulling the shirts slowly up and over their heads. Again there were gasps from the spectators as they saw first the hard, defined six packs of their abs, and then the shirts rose up and over the pecs until the perfectly defined chests were on full view. The shirts came clear and dropped to the floor.
There they stood, side by side, the beautiful cop and the swarthy leather man both stripped to the waist. The one was now wearing just tight leather pants and boots, the other just the regulation police uniform pants and tall shiny leather boots. It was too much for several of the onlookers and again there were sounds of guys shooting their load.
The bare chests were too glorious not to be tortured, and the equipment was right at hand. From a table at the rear of the platform Randy picked up two sets of tit clamps and a length of rawhide. He gave one set of clamps to Bob and, gazing steadily at each other, each man attached the clamps to the other man's hard nipples. There was a sharp intake of breath as the clamps bit into their chests.
Randy tied the rawhide to the chain linking his own clamps and the other to Bob's. They both understood what came next. They walked backward until the rawhide tightened and pulled at the tit clamps. The pain in their chests instantly doubled and they gasped as they held each other's gaze.
Again, the sight for the onlookers was stunning. Two muscular, shirtless men, a cop and a leather man torturing each other, their nipples viciously clamped and straining against each other. It was another trial to see which man would submit first, who would fall victim to the other. The rapt onlookers could hardly believe the test of strength and toleration of pain that they were witnessing. The men flexed and groaned as their chests were brutally tortured by the other man. Their nipples burned in agony, but they never eased up. They pulled tighter and tighter until they were both screaming, shouting obscenities to each other, begging the other to submit.
The men were lost in a mist of pain, feeling that their chests would be ripped open, when suddenly the clamps were torn from each of the massive chests and fell to the floor. As they were ripped off the pain was unbearable and both men screamed and fell to their knees. They looked at each other and knew that the game was not yet over.
There had to be one defining test that would decide the winner once and for all. Again, the table at the back of the platform provided the tools. On it were two black leather bull whips, handles attached to five-feet long lengths of woven black leather used to subdue large animals. Few men could withstand many lashes from these brutal weapons.
The whip fight would be the deciding contest. It was now serious and personal. Their masculinity was on the line. Holding whips the cop and the leather man, both shirtless, began to circle each other, their images reflected in the many mirrors. The men knew what they had to do but hesitated, knowing the pain they were about to inflict. Bob flicked his whip at Randy's chest and it hit his ravaged nipples. In an angry reflex Randy brought his whip curling around Bob's flexed muscles and the loud crack caused the shirtless cop to yell and spasm with pain.
The whip fight was on. They bobbed and weaved, seeking an opening. Again and again the whips curled around the powerful bodies, leaving red stripes on the sweating heaving muscles. It was a brutal battle, with the whips landing more and more savagely, the two beautiful men screaming as each lash curled around their bodies.
The spectators started yelling, urging the two shirtless men on, but soon begging them to stop as they witnessed the increasing brutality of the fight. The men looked into each other's agonized eyes as they circled and viciously tortured each other. Even though they were screaming at each other to submit they increased the force of their blows.
At one point it seemed that Randy would lose. Bob curled the whip around his legs and pulled hard, so Randy crashed to the floor and lost his grip on the whip. Bob took advantage and lashed the fallen muscle man again and again. But Randy could not submit and, gritting his teeth, he grabbed at the whip and staggered to his feet.
In blind fury now, Randy knew it was time to end this. He brought the whip curling around Bob's huge bicep and forearm, making him drop his weapon. The cop stood defenseless at the leather man's mercy. Standing back Randy raised his arm high above his shoulder and with all the intensity and power he could summon, he curled the whip hard around the cop's naked back and chest. It hit the man's shoulders, chest, back and nipples and landed with such muscle tearing force that Bob's beautiful body arched, he screamed in agony and fell to the floor, writhing in spasms of pain.
Randy looked down at his fallen victim and lashed him again and again on his muscular, naked torso. Screaming, Bob rolled over and over, desperate to avoid the brutal whip, but the agony continued. Finally the powerful cop could take no more and screamed,
"OK, I submit. I submit, sir. You've won. Please stop. I give up."
His chest heaving and gleaming with sweat Randy stood over the fallen giant. He had won. The leather man had thrashed the cop into submission and the once-proud bodybuilder lay in a sobbing, crumpled heap at his feet. The lights dimmed to blackout.
When the light came up the two men were facing each other. Bob was still stripped to the waist, still in his uniform pants and boots, handcuffs still hanging from his belt. Randy was now wearing his leather vest over his bare torso. There was an air of excitement among the spectators. They had watched as the cop was brutally beaten, broken, and defeated. They now waited for the final act of submission.
For Randy it was not an issue of satisfying the onlookers. This was now personal. The defeat had been much harder than he anticipated. He was a top man but he had been publicly thrashed, whipped to the floor, tortured as he lay helpless and made to scream in agony as the lashes fell one after another. He had almost lost to the muscular cop and he wanted revenge. His machismo demanded it. The cop's humiliation would be public and degrading.
First, he reached down to Bob's waist, unclipped the handcuffs and cuffed the cop's wrists behind his back. Then he walked over to the leather collar prominently displayed at the side of the platform and brought it to the beaten man.
"Kneel," he ordered, and Bob dropped to his knees facing out to the audience. Randy came behind him and ritualistically fastened the collar around the handsome man's thick neck, causing a gasp from the onlookers. Randy pulled Bob's head back by the hair and looked into his face.
"You fucking piece of shit. Thought you were a powerful cop. Now look at you. Who won?"
"You, sir."
"Who is your master?"
"You, sir."
"Now you have to be humiliated. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir."
Randy tied a rope to the collar and pulled it up, stretching the beaten cop's chiseled face upward. He looked out at the audience and said,
"Gentleman, I give you a broken man." There were cheers and whistling as the men got off on seeing the muscular cop in total submission. Randy turned and stood in front of the kneeling cop at an angle so everyone had a clear view. He pulled out his cock and there was a long pause until a spurt of yellow liquid splashed into the anguished face. This was followed by an endless stream of piss that gushed over the face, neck, chest and shoulders of the broken man.
Several onlookers shot their load at this incredible sight, a shirtless cop in a leather collar, kneeling in submission, being soaked in the leather man's stinking piss.
Part two of the cop's degradation was now set. Randy had tied Bob's hands together and attached them to a rope on the chin bar above them. Still stripped to the waist Bob's arms were stretched upward and his legs were spread a little way behind him. Randy turned him sideways to give the audience a good side view. Then he reached around the cop's waist, loosened the belt, unzipped the fly of the uniform pants, which slid down just below his ass. Bob's cock sprang free. The spectators gasped as they saw for the first time the perfectly rounded globes of the cop's ass and his huge dick. They got ready for the sight they had been waiting for. The beaten man was to be publicly fucked.
Randy unzipped his own pants and pulled out his cock, which was already rock hard. He pushed the huge head against the crack between the cop's cheeks. This time the fucking would not be slow or gentle. Randy needed to punish the man who had whipped him so brutally. He grabbed hold of Bob's waist and with one massive lunge, drove his cock deep inside his gut. Bob let out a scream that echoed round the room.
Then the pounding began. There was no mercy, no letup. The huge rod plunged again and again deep inside the cop's ass, smashing against back of his hole. The pain was incredible and Bob's body heaved and arched in a futile attempt to ease the pressure. He was securely tied by the wrists and at the leather man's mercy.
He screamed as the pole was driven deep inside him. His piss-soaked muscles flexed and tensed, streaming with sweat and gleaming under the lights. The torture of his ass seemed never ending and the onlookers stamped and cheered, elated by the sight of the beautiful cop being brutally fucked by the leather man.
Randy knew that it had to end before Bob passed out. Feeling the heat rising into his groin Randy's pounding became faster and more savage until he finally let out a scream, plunged his shaft deep inside the ass and shot a hot stream of cum into the beaten cop. Bob felt only the extreme pain in his shattered ass, and he was unaware that he too shot a hot stream of semen toward the cheering crowd. As many of the men watching shot their own loads they whistled and cheered as the muscular cop sagged in the ropes, his body racked with pain and his ass fucked so brutally that if felt on fire.
A short while later the final act of humiliation was in place. When he was cut down from the ropes Bob's huge body had crashed to the floor. Randy spread eagled him flat on the floor, tying his wrists and ankles to the corners of the stage. His pants had been pulled up and the belt rebuckled. The massive shirtless cop lay stretched and immobile, at the mercy of whatever final degradation he was to endure. Randy announced it to the eager group of men.
"Gentlemen, be my guest."
Bob looked up helplessly at the leather man towering over him. "No," he breathed. "Please. Don't let them."
But Randy wanted his full and total revenge so he let it happen. In ones, twos or small groups, the men came forward from the shadows of the audience and stood around the helpless, beaten cop. Riveted by his beauty they began to piss on the muscular bodybuilder. Soon there were streams of hot rancid urine pouring over his body, soaking his face and hair, and streaming over the gleaming muscles of his chest.
Many of the men still had another orgasm in them and cum poured down on the helpless cop to mix with the pools of urine. Bob's body heaved and thrashed, desperate to avoid the shower of piss and cum that poured down on him. As Randy and the other guys looked down on the magnificent, shirtless cop spread eagled on the ground, soaked and sobbing, his humiliation was complete.
It was late now and the crowd began to disperse. They had been witness to extraordinary sights that went beyond their wildest imagination. Soon there were only two men left. A soaked and helpless cop and the huge leather man standing in triumph over him. Both exhausted, they gazed into each other's eyes ... and a slight smile formed on their lips. They knew that their contest for supremacy would continue the next day. It was time for the cop's revenge.
TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength ... Part 10"