A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 96 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER:

In "the most intense sexual experience master and boy had ever shared," Zack takes Darius from reality to fantasy. "In tight bondage Darius gazed in awe at the muscular black leather-god, an image out of his wildest fantasy, an erotic drawing, pornographic." Later, Bob confronts Hassan and takes charge. But then Randy challenges Bob. "Seems you need to be reminded who's really boss around here, buddy."

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 - Chapter 96 -- "Black on Black"

The boys had earned their keep, and then some, as one by one they brought calm to the troubled waters roiling the house. All hell had broken loose after Randy had thrashed Hassan in brutal revenge for his long-ago wartime torture of Mark. He earned no gratitude for his act of retribution.

In fact Mark was the first to confront him, eyes blazing. "What happened between that guy and me was my business, my job to handle. I fight my own battles, and I don't need you and your fucking anger screwing things up." But Jamie had eventually made Mark see things in a different light and soothed his anger (not least with a sensational blow-job).

Then Zack dumped on Randy. "Listen, asshole, the next time you go on one of your anger/revenge trips leave my boy out of it. You do not ... repeat not ... order my boy to fuck a guy he barely knows. He's my boy and I'm the one who'll tell him what to do, and that includes fucking ass. You get that, pal?"

It took Pablo to bring Randy out of his drunken depression. "I love you, kiddo," Randy said. "You're perfect for me ... best boy a man ever had."

And now it was Darius's turn to distract Zack away from the anger he still felt toward Randy. He explained that when Randy ordered him to fuck Hassan, "I gotta say, sir, I didn't take much persuading. It was kind of a hot fantasy for me And I got the whole thing on video ... except for the part where I did the fucking. Couldn't manage to film that. I tried ... but it's not easy filming while you're fucking. Not many people know that, sir."

Zack saw the earnest look on Darius's face and roared with laughter. He gazed with deep affection at his crazy, funny, beautiful boy. His mood lightened and he began to find Darius's enthusiasm infectious. "OK, so tell me, kid ... what part turned you on the most?"

"Hmm ..." Darius reflected. "I think when Randy had Hassan tied up, stretched and spread-eagled. He pressed his body against Hassan's and made him shoot his load between them without even touching himself. That was awesome."

"I guess so," Zack said with a gleam in his eye. "You think anyone you know is hot enough to ever make you do that?"

Darius caught the look in his master's eye and played along. "Oh, I doubt it, sir. Takes a major muscle-stud to do that. Nah, nobody could ever make me cum like that."

"You little fucker," Zack grinned. "OK, you asked for it ..."

He left the room and came right back with a coil of rope that he tossed on the floor like a challenge. Darius gazed up at the magnificent black muscle-god, stripped to the waist, and felt his cock getting stiff in his shorts.

"On your feet, punk," Zack growled. Darius stood up but felt his knees go weak. He had a pretty fair idea of what he was in for

It was only a few minutes later that Darius realized just how far his master would take the challenge. The boy was naked, his arms stretched upward and tied with ropes to the ceiling beam above him. He was not stretched tight, as Hassan had been; his elbows were slightly bent so there was no pain, but he knew he was completely at Zack's mercy.

The big black muscle-stud stood back and surveyed his handiwork. "Yeah, very nice," he said. "You are one beautiful boy and I love to see you helpless like that. Pity you mouth off so much, daring to challenge your master like that." He walked closer and ran his hands lightly over the boy's muscular chest. "So, boy. What am I gonna do to that pretty body of yours? This maybe?" and he squeezed Darius's nipples hard between his fingers. Darius gasped at the first hint of pain and gazed into Zack's gray eyes.

"What do you say, boy?"

Still feeling the sharp pain radiating through his chest, Darius groaned, "Thank you, sir."

Zack yanked his sharply fingers off the tits, making Darius yell with pain. Zack shook his head. "Nah, that's not enough for an insolent boy like you. See, there's one big difference between you and Hassan. You know what that is? He's in the real world and you're in fantasyland. You love your fantasies, but I think I can drag you into the real world ... kicking and screaming maybe. Am I scaring you now?"

"A bit, sir."

"How about now?" and again Zack squeezed his tits, but viciously this time using his nails.

Darius screamed desperately, "Yes, sir. Please, sir. You're hurting me, sir. Now I'm scared."

"You sorry you challenged me?"

The pain was excruciating and Darius sobbed, "Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir. Please ... the pain ... please, sir, I beg you."

Again Zack yanked his fingers away, gazing steadily into his boy's tear-filled eyes. "But you see, boy, that's too easy, making you beg by hurting you. Now that your tits have been worked on they're real tender and the pain will be much worse any time I touch them again. Here, let me show you..." He twisted the damaged nipples hard again and Darius felt burning pain as fire shot through his chest. Trying not to scream he pleaded instead.

"No, sir. Please ... oh god, the pain ... I can't take any more... please stop sir. Please... I'm begging you." Tears were streaming from his eyes as he saw Zack's gaze soften and the torture stopped. Zack put his hands on the sides of Darius's face and spoke to him earnestly.

"That's what it feels like, kid, when fantasy turns to reality. My advice to you is to stay in the realm of fantasy. It's safer ... and much more fun. And here's some more advice ... no, this is an order. Never, ever let anyone except me tie you up like this. Guys can get carried away, especially hurting a beautiful boy like you. I am your master. You can trust me, but nobody else. Is that clear, Darius?"

Relief swept over the boy. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Kiddo, you're my boy. I love you, and I don't hurt someone I love" ... he grinned ... "not physically anyway. You still feel scared?

"Not any more, sir. I worship you, sir, and I want to please you. You can do anything to me."

"Oh, I know that. But it's what I don't do that that's gonna hurt. Oh yeah ... I am gonna hurt you again, punk ... but it'll be your mind not your body this time. So, let's see ... you got off on watching Randy make Hassan cum just by pressing against him. Well I think we can go one better than that ... or two even. Thank about that, kid."

Abruptly Zack left the room, leaving Darius tied up, his mind reeling. He thought he had never been so turned on by a man, especially one as beautiful as his master. The pain in his tits had been unbearable and, to tell the truth, had lessened his sexual desire. The pain had overwhelmed everything, even his lust. But after it stopped, after Zack had spoken to him in that deep, soft voice of his, he felt no fear ... only excited anticipation. What did this gorgeous black muscle-god have in store for him? All he could do was wonder ... and wait.

His wait was rewarded. After some time he heard the door open and Zack walked in. He turned and faced his boy, arms folded across his chest, legs astride.

Darius felt weak and he moaned, "Oh God. That looks ... oh, sir ..." He was looking at something out of his wildest fantasy, like an erotic drawing he had once seen. A phrase he had once heard came to his mind ... `pornographically handsome.'

Zack was wearing black leather pants and boots. A sleeveless brown shirt was tucked into the slim waist, and it was unbuttoned far enough to give a glimpse underneath of a black, studded leather harness crossed against his massive chest. On his head was a black leather cap, and he wore dark mirror glasses. Over the last few weeks Zack had grown a moustache, which now completed the iconic image of the ultimate leather muscle-god. And now he stood before Darius, his shoulders and biceps bulging as his arms folded across his chest.

Instinctively Darius pulled at his restraints, desperate to touch this spectacular man. His cock was raging hard and his eyes blazed with frantic desire. The man smiled slightly. "That's it, boy. Let me see you struggle. Let me see those young muscles strain against the ropes. Yeah, flex your abs, boy. Show me that washboard stomach of yours."

Darius didn't need to be told. He was hypnotized by the sight of the macho leather man before him and would have done anything just to touch him right now. His young black body thrashed and twisted wildly as he tried hopelessly to get free. "Oh, that is really fine," Zack said softly. "Oh, yeah, I'm really gonna enjoy working you, boy.

Darius was going crazy. "Please let me touch you, sir. Just one hand ... just once. Please, sir ..."

Zack did not reply. Instead he tore open his shirt, stripped it off and threw it to the ground. Darius moaned as he looked at the black leather man, harness stretched over his magnificent sculpted torso. Zack walked around the room, paused in front of the mirror and flexed his muscles. Exhausted now, Darius hung from the ropes, groaning with agonizing desire for his glorious master. His cock was like steel and he could feel pre-cum dripping from it.

Zack walked up to him. "You want me to touch you, boy?"

"Yes, sir. Please, sir. I'll do anything ... anything you want."

"Nah, the hard part for you is gonna be doing nothing. Let's see, now. Slowly he raised his hands and very gently stroked Darius's ultra-sensitive nipples with the backs of his fingers. Jolts of electricity streaked though the boy's body and his chest jumped as he tried desperately to push forward against Zack's hands, yearning to feel more pressure against his tits. But instead Zack pulled away and Darius slumped in hopeless frustration.

Zack turned his back, took a few steps and slumped down in an armchair a few feet away. "OK, boy. You look fucking gorgeous strung up there. You're my boy, so put on a show for me. Show me how much you want me." He threw off the leather cap and Darius gazed in awe at the stunning ebony face and shaved head, the eyes still hidden behind mirror glasses..

Darius knew what his master wanted. He looked up at his bound wrists and pulled at the ropes, yanking harder and harder, his arm's bulging and aching with effort. His body writhed and struggled and sweat started to run down his young, black muscles. He looked up again, grasped the ropes above him and pulled himself upward, so his feet were clear of the floor. He hung there, legs flailing, hoping the weight of his body might break the ropes. Every sinew in his body strained mightily, as he flexed his arms, shoulders and his ripped abs.

"Oh, man," Zack groaned. "That is absolutely fucking sensational. God you're beautiful. I love watching a gorgeous black stud struggling in bondage. You really turn me on, boy, you are so fucking hot." His hand went down to his crotch, he unzipped his leather pants and pulled out his iron-hard cock. "Shit, I'm gonna get off on watching you, boy. You are just what I needed."

He started to stroke his cock ... slowly at first and then with increasing urgency, moaning obscenities as he watched the display. But Darius started to panic and relaxed his arms so his feet touched the floor again. "Please, sir. Please don't cum yet. Please, I want you to touch me again. I want to feel you. You're like a god to me, sir. Please don't cum yet."

"Oh, I'm real close, boy. I think I'll just shoot my load and then go across the street to make my peace with Randy."

"NO!" Darius wept. "I'm begging you, sir. Please just touch me once more. Please don't cum."

"Well one of us has to cum. Looks like it's gonna be me. Unless you can shoot your load first." Zack stood up, still stroking his cock.

Darius was whirling into a vortex of desire and frustration. It was agony for him, watching the glorious leather god standing before him, stroking his huge dick, his ebony muscles gleaming with a sheen of sweat. Zack took off his glasses and his steel gray eyes bored hypnotically into his boy's.

"Come on, boy. Use that imagination of yours. Remember how Randy tortured that magnificent stud Hassan as he hung in chains. Think of it, boy. Fantasize!"

"Oh, yes, sir," Darius moaned as the image swam across his mind.

"Now imagine it's me, Zack, whipping Hassan's body. Picture it!"

"Yes, sir. God it's beautiful." The fantasy of this superb black leatherman lashing the helpless soldier flashed into Darius's imagination. His mind was racing out of control as one erotic image after another swam before his eyes.

"Now it's changed again," Zack said. "Now it's you, boy. It's you chained up at the construction site and the black muscle-god is holding a whip and he's thrashing your beautiful young body. Oh, yeah, I love punishing you, boy. Look at me ... imagine your leather master torturing you. He's whipping your tits, hard. You're writhing in pain. Feel the pain in your chest ... it's on fire. You can't take any more. Give up. Submit to your master, boy. That's it. Worship me ... do it now!"

All the fire in the boy's straining body now blazed in his groin, in his cock. His body jolted, he threw his head back and screamed as his cock blasted a huge plume of white liquid into the air. It streamed in a high arc, then splashed down over the muscle-god's body, running over his chest, over the leather harness, down over the abs and onto the hard black cock. Darius shuddered and in his delirium the last thing he remembered was the homoerotic image of the spectacular black stud in full leather, his body streaming with his boy's juice.

His head hung down in total exhaustion, his breath still heaving. Darius hadn't exactly passed out ... it's just that the extreme overload of intense images racing through his mind, culminating in his extraordinary orgasm, had made his mind shut down, go blank. Even Darius, with his huge capacity for fantasy, had been overwhelmed by hallucinations of Zack. He didn't know where he was, why he was there.

But slowly feeling returned to him, starting with the pain in his arms as he hung from the ropes. He struggled to stand up straight, relieving the pressure. As the pain ebbed away his brain started to function again and slowly he opened his eyes. "Oh, God," he moaned as his first sight was of the muscular black stud, standing motionless before him. He saw the leather harness, the superb body, glistening with his boy's semen. He saw the pale gray eyes boring into him. Then he heard the low, calm voice.

"That's something Randy could never make Hassan do. I said we'd go one better. You were sensational, boy. Most beautiful thing I ever saw as you writhed in bondage and shot that massive load just looking at me. Look at me now, kid. I'm covered in your creamy spunk. You gotta do something about that."

He came up close to Darius, who understood what he had to do for his master. He pushed his head forward, stretched out his tongue and licked the cum from Zack's shoulder. Then he moved downward, lapping feverishly, over the chest, down in the cleft between his massive pecs, then over the studded harness, savoring the smell and taste of cum-stained leather. As his tongue passed over the hard nipples he heard Zack moan and saw his body stiffen.

Zack pulled away and looked with satisfaction at his boy's tear-stained eyes gazing at him in total, helpless adoration. His mouth hung open, cum still dripping from it. Darius was in thrall to his master. He would do anything in the world for him. And then Zack put him to the test.

"So, you said what turned you on most about Hassan was when he shot his load while Randy pressed his body against him. I take that as a challenge, and I always rise to a challenge, boy. But what the hell's this?" He put his hand under Darius's limp ten-inch cock swaying between his legs. "Like a sleeping horse ... no life at all. And that's the cock that's gonna shoot against my body?"

Darius gazed at him in alarm. "I can't sir. I just shot a huge load. I can't cum again."

Zack's eyes blazed. "Are you refusing me, boy? Saying no to your master?"

"No, sir. I mean, yes sir. I mean ..." He sobbed with frustration.

"So there's the challenge, kid. I just raised the stakes, that's all. You just emptied your ball sac ... no juice left. And I'm gonna make you cum again. That's what a real master can do."

He step backed and unclipped his harness, letting it fall to the ground. He bent down and pulled off his boots, then unzipped his pants, let them drop and stepped out of them. Underneath he was wearing a black jockstrap, his massive dick coiled inside it. Darius's breathing became ragged as he looked at the incredible black muscle-god, naked now except for the jockstrap. Zack raised his arms to the side and displayed his superb physique.

"So, you think you can shoot another big load for this guy? Come on, boy, let's see what you got."

Once again Darius's mind was etched with the image of this spectacular man, and incredibly he felt his cock stir, fill with blood and grow harder and harder until it was standing straight out like a steel rod. His gaze was now more confident, proud of his display of desire for his master.

Zack smiled arrogantly. He was the ultimate alpha male and knew not only the effect he had on everyone who saw him, but especially his power over Darius. "What do you want now, boy?"

"Please sir, I want you to touch me. I need to feel you, feel your body against mine. It's what I've longed for ever since you came in. Please, sir. I'll do anything, I'll cum for you again but please let me feel you."

Zack smiled, walked forward, pressed his body lightly against his boy's and raised his arms, grabbing the ropes just above where Darius's wrists were tied. And once again his intense gray eyes penetrated Darius. The boy could hardly breathe.

"OK, kid, this is it," Zack said "Here's the deal. You're drained dry of semen, but you're gonna be so turned on by your master you're gonna shoot anyway. This should help ..." He opened his mouth and pressed it hard against Darius's lips. The boy immediately opened his lips and their tongues hungrily explored each other's mouth. Zack tasted the remains of his own cum in the boy's mouth, and Darius spun into a world of pure carnal desire as he tasted and smelled the warm breath of this glorious man.

Zack pressed his body harder and Darius gasped as he felt the man's chest rub against his sensitive nipples. He could feel his master's massive cock grinding against his through the rough cotton of the jockstrap. There was no now doubt in either man that Darius could shoot again. It was just a question of how soon. And that question was quickly answered. He heard Zack's voice again.

"You feel that hard body against yours, boy? See that black muscle-stud pressing his flesh against yours? You feel his big, hard dick crushing yours? Look down, boy."

Darius looked down between them and saw Zack's rigid cock sticking way up above the waistband of his jock, dribbling with pre-cum. He raised his eyes, gazed at his master's face and tears began running down his face. "I love you, sir. I worship you. You are the most exciting man I have ever known, and I'm honored to be your boy. I will do anything for you, sir. Anything at all."

"Then cum for me," Zack said simply.

Darius stopped moving and felt heat rising from his legs, through his balls and into his cock, and then he felt the sticky dampness of his own cum as it blasted up between their bodies.

"Good, boy," Zack said softly. "Now you deserve this." Zack's own cum had been building all this time like molten lava, and now the volcano erupted, soaking their stomachs and chests, binding them together. "I love you, Darius," he breathed. "God, I love you."

And once again their mouths pressed hard against each other in passionate homage to the most intense sexual experience master and boy had ever shared.

Minutes later they were in each other's arms in bed, their naked bodies slick with their semen. "You're not going anywhere tonight, kid," Zack said. "You're staying right here in my bed and I'm gonna fuck your ass as many times as I want. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Darius whispered, still reeling from the overwhelming sensations and images of the evening. Zack got up and walked quietly to the guest room on the other side of the house. He looked in to reassure himself that Hassan was still sleeping soundly. Good, he thought, the sounds from their room had been too distant to wake him.

He used his cell phone to call Bob, who explained that Randy was spending the night with Pablo, and Bob was about to come across the street to sleep with the twins. "I need to be in your house early next morning for when Hassan wakes," Bob said. "I want you to leave that situation to me. I'll deal with Hassan."

"You got it, buddy," Zack said. He went back to his boy, already half asleep, and crawled in beside him. He pulled Darius's head onto his chest, folding him in his arms. And that's how they slept.

It was just after dawn that Bob woke. The twins were curled round him, having both been fucked by him during the night. He disentangled himself and they woke instantly. "Listen, guys," Bob said. "I know it's real early to ask you this, but do you think you could go into Zack's kitchen and rustle up a cooked breakfast for two and bring it in on trays to the guest room? Then make something for yourselves."

"Of course, sir," said Kevin. "Right away," Kyle added. They sensed that something important was up and were happy to be a small part of it ... anything to please the man they loved. Bob pulled on his jeans and a T-shirt, picked up a bundle of clothes he had brought from the house, and made his way to the guest room.

As he walked in, the man was already stirring under the covers. He pushed them back and blinked as he came to his senses. Bob threw open the curtains and looked down at him. Hassan was disoriented, with confused memories of his brutal treatment by Randy the evening before. He looked up at Bob, a man he had never seen before.

"Who the fuck are you?" he asked groggily.

"My name is Bob," he said without expression. "That's all you need to know right now. You're probably hungry so breakfast is on its way. You're in a friend's house. And I might as well tell you right off that I live with several guys across the street who are very protective of me, so don't try anything. You let me do the talking and we'll get along just fine."

Memory flooded back to Hassan and he looked around nervously. "That guy from yesterday, the guy who..."

"His name's Randy and he won't be visiting you again. Nor will Mark or anyone else ... this trip at least." Bob sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the man in bed as the early morning sunlight fell across his naked body . Nobody had exaggerated his beauty. He was stunning ... perfectly muscled physique, exotic looks, with slanted dark eyes and black hair tousled from sleep. Hassan was starting to focus on his visitor, a beautiful bodybuilder with the looks of Superman.

"OK," said Bob. "So now we've both got the measure of each other let's get down to business. I know exactly what you did to Mark years ago but I'm not gonna get into that. It was another time and place. And I know what Randy did to you yesterday, something he felt he had to do out of loyalty to Mark. But all that's past, and nothing like that is going to happen to you here. But I do need an explanation. Tell me what you're doing here, how you came to be in this country and what you want."

There was an uncomfortable silence, broken by a knock on the door. The twins had worked fast and brought in two trays laden with food. They placed them on a small table and left the room. Hassan roused himself and got unsteadily to his feet, stark naked. Bob reached down to the pile of clothes and tossed him boxers and a T-shirt. "Here, put these on."

Hassan did so and they both sat at the table and began to eat, Hassan ravenously as he hadn't eaten for almost 24 hours. "OK," Bob said between mouthfuls. "Talk."

Hassan looked into Bob's soft brown eyes and saw, along with his stern clenched jaw, something else ... softer, kinder ... someone he could trust, maybe. He gulped down his food, and began. "Bob, you said? Well, you know I was in the military in my country and as the war wound down the American military took an interest in me as I spoke Arabic, knew my way around and wasn't as crazy as some of the other guys.

"Long story short, they offered me an intelligence job and I came to Washington. Later I asked for a posting to the marine base at Camp Pendleton down the coast. It finally came through and I've been out here a couple of times for orientation. I'm due to go back to D.C. and then I'll come back permanently in a month or so."

He paused to take more gulps of his breakfast and Bob looked at him curiously. "Why Pendleton? Why California?"

Hassan put his fork down and looked at Bob, wondering if he could trust him. His bravado gave way and he seemed to crumple before Bob's eyes. "I came here for Mark," he said simply. "I'm in love with him."

"Wow!" Bob was taken aback, and impressed, by his directness. "But how did you find him, find Darius and get friendly with him at the gym?"

Hassan smiled for the first time. "When you're in military intelligence there's not much you can't find out. So I worked through the black kid. Oh, I wouldn't have harmed him. Seems like a great kid. I thought he would get me to see Mark." He paused. "Where is Mark?"

Bob took a deep breath. "Not far away, but you're not gonna see him ... not this trip. Look, Hassan, Mark is a very respected cop. He lives with us men across the street and he has a boy. They're totally in love with each other." His voice became steely. "So let me make myself perfectly clear ... me and my buddies will not allow you to fuck things up. As I said, we're very protective of each other."

"I see," said Hassan crestfallen.

Bob took pity on him. "But I'll make a deal with you. I'll give you my number and when you come back in a month you call me. I'll decide what happens then. I'll speak to Mark and see how he feels. That's the best I can do. In the meantime you make no attempt to see Mark, is that clear?"

Hassan shrugged and smiled. "Do I have any choice?"

"No you don't. Now, when you've finished eating I'll give you a ride back to the gym where you left your car yesterday. The boys washed your pants last night, so here they are, with your boots, and you can keep my shorts and T-shirt that I gave you."

They finished their meal in silence and then stood up. Hassan put on his clothes and they were ready to leave. Their eyes met and a look passed between them that startled them both. Hassan smiled. "You're a beautiful man, Bob. And not only that, you're a good guy too. I can see that."

"You're one hell of a looker yourself, but of course you know that." Bob smiled. "As a matter of fact Mark told me that the name Hassan in Arabic means `Beautiful, handsome'. Well you qualify on both counts. Maybe when the dust has settled we might even be friends."

Again a spark flashed briefly between them. Hassan held out his hand and said, "Thanks for being so ....well ... kind to me, Bob." Then impulsively, Hassan put his arms round Bob in a tight hug that lasted far too long for comfort. When they separated Hassan gazed into Bob's eyes, then turned to leave the room. As Bob followed him he said "shit" under his breath. His cock was rigid in his jeans.

When he had dropped off Hassan and got back to the house Bob engaged in another round of diplomacy, speaking in turn to Mark and Zack. He related his conversation with Hassan, and Mark breathed a sigh of relief. It was a month before Hassan would be back to stay, and then he would be at Camp Pendleton, 90 miles down the coast from them. That would give Mark time to sort out the whirl of conflicting emotions he felt.

Next, Bob used his charm to heal any animosity that Zack still felt for Randy. Zack had huge respect and affection for Bob and was easily persuaded by him.

But finally it was the boys who restored harmony to the house. Bob had built the bridges of reconciliation and the boys crossed them. In the afternoon, as promised, Randy took Pablo and the twins to the Galaxy Soccer Stadium down the Harbor Freeway in Carson. When they came back Bob was in the garden as the boys burst through the gate, followed by an exhausted-looking Randy. Pablo and the twins were evidently in a heated discussion about whether Beckham was past his prime.

Pablo was in full flood. "Dudes, come on, how about his goal in the second half? It was brilliant."

"You're full of shit, man" Kyle said. "A total fluke," added Kevin. "The Toronto goalie was an asshole."

Bob and Randy were amazed at their assertiveness and Pablo grinned at the men, jerking his thumb at the twins, proud of their transformation from fearful to forceful. Just then Darius and Jamie ran into the garden followed by Mark and Zack. The five boys went straight into a noisy huddle, everyone talking at once.

Bob smiled at the other three men. "No problem with their friendships ... as thick as ever. Maybe they're trying to tell us something ... maybe the adults could follow their example, uh?" The other men picked up their cue and Randy shook hands with Mark and Zack. No words were needed ... the breaches had been healed. Before they all left Randy and Bob pulled Pablo aside.

"I gotta thank you, Pablo," Bob said. "Hell, you sure did a number bringing the twins out of their shells."

"Yeah ... me, Beckham and the soccer match. They're great guys really when you get to know them."

Randy grinned. "Yeah, and chances are you'll get to know them a whole lot better when the five of us go up to the lake this weekend."

"Yeah ... about that," Pablo said. "I had another idea for the twins that would really boost their confidence, but it's pretty radical and would involve you, sirs."

"Well, we'll see," said Randy dubiously.

But Bob was enthusiastic. "Oh, come on ... let the kid do what he wants. Don't stifle him."

Randy shot him a warning look that Bob knew only too well, and he realized he had gone too far. When they went up to their room to shower before dinner Bob could feel his anger. "Sorry, buddy," Bob said. "I guess I crossed a line there, telling you how to deal with your boy."

"Damn right you did. You never, ever interfere between me and the kid, is that clear?"

Bob looked crushed and Randy immediately softened. "Oh, hell, come here," and he wrapped his arms round his lover in an affectionate bear hug. When he held him at arm's length he was grinning.

"Come to think of it, you've been way too bossy lately, taking charge, dictating to everyone in the house, putting everything right. Here I fight with Hassan, beat the shit out of him, and get dumped on by everyone as a result. Then you come along the next morning and sweet-talk the guy so he leaves like a pussy cat promising to call you before he makes his next move."

Bob smiled and shrugged. "Someone has to be the diplomat ... clean up after you."

Randy flashed him a look that Bob had seen before, a strange expression of anger mixed with lust. He knew where this was headed. His mind went back to the old motel room, then to the forest by the lake, places where in the past Randy had established a brutal dominance over him. And he knew they had reached a point again where Randy had to reassert his authority.

And Bob longed for that. Bob was a stunningly beautiful, strong alpha male whom everybody respected and obeyed. As a senior vice-president of a big company he was the undisputed boss when he chaired meetings. And now he had just asserted his command of the situation in the house. No doubt about it, Bob was a master, but with one difference ... he needed a master himself.

Deep in his soul he needed to be brought down, dominated. It was a craving that was bred in the bone. It was as if being a dominant male exhausted him and sometimes he needed to crawl to a man stronger than him. And he knew that Randy loved being the master of such a dominant, handsome alpha male. As a couple they were supreme, unmatched. Randy was not only a man's man ... he was a master's master.

It was only when he first met Randy that Bob had recognized this need to be subjugated, and Randy was the only man in the world who could do it. That was one reason Bob worshipped him, one reason they were united in a mutual passion that made them inseparable. And there were times when Bob longed for Randy to demonstrate that he was indisputably the master. This was one of those times.

Randy read his mind. "That's right, man. You need to be reminded who's boss around here."

"You said you had plans for me when we go to the lake," Bob said humbly.

"Oh, yeah. But let me give you a small preview right now. Strip and get in the shower. Leave your tank top on. Looks hot on you."

Seconds later they were in the shower, hot water streaming over their muscular bodies. They gazed at each other through the steam and Randy growled, "On your knees, asshole." Bob fell to his knees and Randy grabbed his wet tank in his fist, pulling Bob's beautiful face close to his crotch. "See your master's cock? You know what to do."

"Yes, sir." The long, thick cock was stiff as a steel rod. Bob opened his mouth, closed it round the cock and pushed his head forward to his master's wet pubic hair. Randy pulled hard on the tank and Bob gagged as he felt his face trapped. Randy pushed Bob's head against the tiled wall, gripped his face between his hands and the pounding began. Bob was helpless as he felt himself crushed against the wall, impaled on the big construction worker's massive pole.

His eyes were opened wide and he saw the heavily muscled thighs moving back and forth, felt the wiry pubic hair smashing into his face. The cock was hammering the back of his throat, he was gagging, choking, aware only of the piston torturing his mouth as the hot shower water poured down over him. Randy was merciless, not only establishing his dominance, but bringing Bob down after his display of authority over the other men. After all, there could be only one ultimate master in that house.

Kneeling in a tumult of water, steam and pain Bob couldn't breathe, his throat ached, he was choking and felt his consciousness slipping away. The cock was becoming harder, bigger and starting to pulse. It shuddered in his mouth and at last he heard Randy's guttural scream as hot liquid blasted deep down into his throat. He swallowed hard and felt his own body go rigid as his cock erupted. Tears were streaming from his eyes as he buried his face in Randy's tangle of wet pubic hair.

Finally Randy pulled back and Bob fell forward throwing his arms round Randy's muscular thigh, pressing his face against it, worshipping him in abject submission. He heard Randy's voice. "God, I love you, man. Working on a macho stud like you makes me feel supreme. And you know this is just a foretaste of what's gonna happen this weekend at the lake. But I have to know you want it, man ... really want it."

Bob looked up at his master, spectacular in his nakedness towering over him in a cloud of steam and spray. "I do want it sir, more than anything in the world."

"OK stand up. Tell me what you want me to do to you."

Randy pulled him to his feet and Bob stared into his lover's steel blue eyes. He spoke softly. "When we all reach the lake I want you to take me off alone into the woods. I want you to be my master, make me crawl to you, make me beg. And later, when we rejoin the boys, I want us both to show them how amazing love between men and boys really can be. That's what I want, sir."

Randy's swarthy, rugged face smiled at him. "Perfect. I'll do all that for you ... and you know I can." Then, above the noise of water and steam his voice rose to a shout. "God, I love the hell out of you, man!"

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength ... Chapter 97"