A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 97 By Rob Williams
IN THIS CHAPTER:
It's time for Randy to reassert his dominance over Bob. The two shirtless muscle-studs face each other in open defiance ... master against master ... but one will conquer the other. "Submit, man. You know you can't take much more. Watching you break really turns me on. Come on, man, crawl." Later, Pablo comes up with a stunning idea for the twins. And Darius wants a cop for his birthday.
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A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - Chapter 97 – "Master versus Master"
After all the tumultuous happenings in the house during the last few days, it was time to take a breather and relax. Randy had already taken Pablo and the twins to a soccer match, and then he proposed another excursion to Bob. "Next weekend I was planning to take Pablo up to the lake ... do some fishing. What say you and the twins come with us? Hell, the five of us all together ... we'll see what develops ... no inhibitions ... no holds barred."
Bob was all for the idea. He and Randy had a special feeling for their secret place by the lake in the Angeles National Forest high above Los Angeles, and the trip would be another step in helping the twins to become less reticent, more assertive. Kyle and Kevin had only recently become Bob's devoted boys and they were still a bit afraid of the fierce, rugged boss, Randy.
So Friday came and in the early evening frenzied preparations were already in high gear. The twins especially were excited about their first big trip out of town. They had come to respect and trust Pablo, who had become a young master to them, relishing his role as guide and mentor. And of course being close to Bob, a man they idolized, was what they lived for. Their only slight hesitation was still about Randy, even though they felt somewhat more comfortable with him after the trip to the soccer match.
As they were the cooks in the house they took a leading role in packing the food and the portable barbecue grill Randy had bought for the trip. Pablo generally supervised the preparations, with Randy and Bob casting an occasional paternal eye on the controlled chaos. Pablo's dog Billy picked up on the excitement and got under everyone's feet, aided and abetted by Darius and Jamie who added to the ruckus.
Before they hit the road the men had a quiet word with Mark and Zack. "Think you can hold the fort around here while we're gone?" Randy kidded.
Zack grinned. "Shit, man, it'll be a whole lot easier without you around causing mayhem like you always do."
"Besides," added Mark. "We'll have Darius and Jamie to take care of us. We plan on a long, restful weekend. And of course, tomorrow is Darius's birthday."
"Yeah, sorry we'll miss that," Bob said, "but Sunday evening when we get back it'll be party time, OK?"
"You got it, buddy. Have fun up there by the lake. Stay out of trouble." Mark grinned, "Fat chance on that one, I guess."
As Randy's big truck roared up the highway the back seat was crowded and restless. Pablo sat between the twins, with Billy bouncing from the cargo space behind them over onto their laps. The talk was incessant, with Pablo taking the lead, explaining to the twins the finer techniques of fishing that Randy had taught him. Randy smiled to himself hearing his boy's authoritative tone.
But the mood in the front seat was quieter, subdued even, as Randy drove with one hand on the wheel and his other arm slung over Bob's shoulder. Their minds were not on fishing. No, they were both aware that this trip to the lake had another purpose, defined by what Randy had said to Bob earlier with a mix of affection and determination. "You've been way too bossy lately, buddy, taking charge, dictating to everyone in the house, putting everything right. It's time you were reminded who's really the boss around here."
As he sat close to the man he worshipped Bob still felt the rush of adrenaline these words had caused. It was true that the recent turmoil in the house, beginning with the sudden appearance of Hassan, had been largely handled by Bob. Using his authoritative diplomatic skills he had reasoned with all the men and poured oil on the turbulent waters. Once again he had proven his senior position in the house.
But when Randy had said those words Bob's thoughts 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. It had been a long time since he did that, and Bob longed for it. So here they were, headed to the lake once more.
Unlike the restless noise from the back seat, in front the men drove mostly in silence, wrapped in thought. Feeling Bob's apprehension Randy squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You sure you're ready for this, man?" he asked gently.
"I need it, sir," Bob said simply.
It was dark by the time the truck bumped over the rough dirt road through the forest and finally came to a halt at the lake. All five men climbed out, walked across the small beach and stood in awe at the water's edge. The moon had just risen over the trees at the far side of the lake. It was a huge full moon and its light streamed across the dark, still water transforming it into a shimmering pool of silver. For long minutes there was silence, then Pablo murmured, "Wow!"
Randy turned to Bob and marveled at the perfectly sculpted profile illuminated with silver light. "You look spectacular, buddy. Remember this place? Remember what happened?"
"I could never forget," Bob said softly.
"You know I'm gonna hurt you again, don't you. You scared?"
Bob turned to him. "A bit. But it's what I want. I need you, Randy. I need to feel you ... feel your strength." As he spoke both men felt their cocks stirring in their jeans.
"OK, guys," said Randy, breaking the spell. "Let's unload just what we need for tonight and we'll do the rest in the morning. But first ... we get wet."
He stripped off his T-shirt and jeans and the others followed his example, though the twins needed a nod of reassurance from Bob. It was a warm Southern California night and the cool water came as a pleasant antidote to the dust and heat of the road. Pablo and Randy inevitably horsed around challenging each other in the water, while the twins stayed close to Bob.
Kevin gazed at him and said, "Sir, thank you for bringing us here." "The place is magic, sir," said Kyle.
It was a magic they all felt, swimming in the calm water, everything bathed in the brilliant moonlight. When they clambered out and dried off the twins got sandwiches and beer from the truck and Pablo fed Billy. Then they all sat together on the beach gazing out over the lake. Not many words were spoken ... they were all lost in their own private thoughts. They had fallen under the spell of the silent, solitary place, as if they were the only five men in the world.
Finally, though, Randy broke the silence. "OK, guys, time to hit the sack. You bring plenty of blankets, Pablo?"
They spread the blankets on the ground and sprawled on them, all five close together with Billy off to one side. Pablo fell asleep in Randy's arms, and the twins were pressed against Bob. But during the course of the night they shifted in their sleep and when they stirred in the morning they were a tangle of limbs all draped over each other. As Randy had predicted ... "no holds barred."
The next morning the twins didn't let their wild surroundings cramp their culinary skills and they produced a great cooked breakfast on the barbecue, basking in the praise and gratitude of the other three men. After the meal Randy once again took charge and they unloaded the rowboat from the back of the truck. Pablo took care of the fishing tackle, they loaded sandwiches and beer ... and Billy ... into the boat and the boy's climbed in. All of them, Randy included, wore just their shorts.
Bob stood silently on the beach, feeling slightly nervous, disoriented. Randy came over to him and said, "You ... stay here. I'll be back for you." Bob took a sharp intake of breath as he heard the change of tone in Randy's voice. It was low, guttural, menacing. Bob knew that his time was close and once again he felt his cock stir.
The boat pushed off in a welter of excited chatter and confusion as the boys clambered over each other to settle in their places. Randy pulled strongly on the oars and in minutes they were anchored in the middle of the lake.
On the beach Bob began absent-mindedly unloading the rest of the gear and arranging it at the back of the beach. From across the lake he could hear the excited shouts of the boys and Billy's barking, but his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking of Randy, how his life had changed since he met him.
Bob knew himself well, knew that he was a natural leader. The successful business executive was, after all, 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, and he had recently exerted the same tough authority in the house. No doubt about it, he 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. Randy was the only man who could do that, and Bob knew that Randy loved being the master of such a dominant, handsome, macho male. Randy was not only a man's man ... he was a master's master. And there were times, like now, when Bob longed for him to demonstrate his power.
He suddenly felt a craving for the man whose image crowded his thoughts. He wanted to see the steely toughness in his eyes, hear his dominating voice, feel his strength. He stood up from his work, walked to the water's edge and stripped off his shirt. He knew that's how Randy would want him, stripped to the waist in jeans and boots. He gazed out to the boat in the distance and knew exactly what he would see. Even from this distance the men could read each other's thoughts.
All the boys were concentrating on the lines in the water, but Randy looked up as if he had heard a voice. And in a way he had. He looked toward the beach and saw Bob standing there alone ... waiting. "OK, boys," he said. "Have fun out here. There's something I have to take care of." And he dived into the water.
Bob had known he would. He heard the splash, saw the water curl over the spot where he had plunged in, and then become still. He waited, straining his eyes over the calm lake... and waited. He was becoming anxious when suddenly he gasped as he saw a figure burst from under the surface about 50 yards out. The man gained his footing and strode through the water toward the beach.
Bob could hardly breathe. It was a god-like figure approaching, with the golden light of the sun streaming behind him. Water poured over his magnificent physique, his muscles flexed from the underwater swim, gleaming in the morning sunlight. Broad shouldered, lats tapering down past ripped abs to a slim waist, powerful thighs, his wet shorts clinging to his groin, outlining the huge cock underneath ... he was a sexual icon.
As Randy splashed through the water and got closer Bob saw more clearly the handsome, dark demonic face, stubbled chin, square jaw clenched, high cheek bones, a tangle of wet black hair falling over his brow. And then they were face to face. Bob was mesmerized by the steel blue eyes boring into his as he heard the deep growling voice. "OK, man. It's time."
Instinctively Bob fell to his knees threw his arms around Randy's waist and pressed his head against the hard ridges of his stomach. "Please, sir," he said hoarsely. "I need you."
A few minutes later Randy stood back in admiration and murmured, almost to himself, "God, you look incredible like that." Bob was standing, shirtless in jeans, with his hands tied behind his back with rope Randy had got from the truck. Round his neck was another loose rope, and his head hung down submissively. Despite his foreboding his cock was hard in his jeans.
Randy moved quickly. He took off his wet shorts, pulled on jeans and boots, so both men were dressed exactly alike. He grabbed the end of the rope hanging from Bob's neck and pulled it, forcing Bob to follow him through the woods. The prisoner stumbled after his captor, eyes fixed on his muscular back and the nape of his neck, his excitement mounting.
It was a rough walk through thick undergrowth but eventually they broke through into the clearing that they both remembered from the past. The ground was muddy, and the trees clustered close round the perimeter. It was a private place, silent, menacing. Randy tied the end of the rope he was holding round the trunk of a tree. It was a long rope, long enough for Bob to move around as far as the middle of the clearing, where it pulled taught round his neck.
The men faced each other in silence, each with an expression of determination and defiance. This was master against master and both men felt their masculinity challenged. Bob's feelings were complex. He wanted to be subjugated by Randy, but he still had the pride of an alpha male. This was a trial of strength where he would not concede easily. What's more, he knew that Randy didn't want him to. What Randy loved most about Bob was that he was a strong, powerful top man, one whose macho attitude made him resist whatever Randy could do to him.
That was the essence of their love for each other, and the source of the challenge that hung unspoken but heavy in the air. Deep down, despite their deep affection for each other, this sense of contest, male versus male, was at the core of what bound them together. But above all, despite being staged, it was a contest that had to be rooted in reality. They both knew that.
Randy walked up to Bob, reached round behind him, grabbed his bound wrists and wrenched them upward behind him in a painful hammer lock, putting immense strain on his arms and shoulders. Bob gasped but kept his steely gaze on Randy's eyes. Bob's eyes narrowed and he snarled at him defiantly.
"Do your worst, asshole ... you fucking coward. Sure, it's easy to work on a guy when his hands are tied behind him. You too scared to face me man-to-man?"
Randy smiled at the overt challenge to his masculinity. "OK, buddy. Man-to-man."
He expertly loosened the ropes round Bob's wrists until his arms feel free at his sides in blessed relief. The rope was still round his neck but with plenty of room to reach Randy, who stood before him smiling, holding his hands out to his sides, taunting him.
"OK, man. Here I am ... defenseless. Think you can take me on? Let's see what you got."
That's where reality kicked in. It was not a game. It was the arrogance in Randy's face and voice that infuriated Bob, his smug certainty that he was the top man and could always beat Bob. He stared at the conceited face and howled. "You fucker!"
He raised his arms and grabbed Randy round the throat with both hands, choking him. He watched with satisfaction as the arrogant smile left the swarthy face; his eyes bulged and veins stood out on his neck. Randy grabbed Bob's wrists in a vain attempt to pry them off him. It was Randy himself who had taught Bob how to squeeze pressure points and make a man lose consciousness. Randy felt his head swim and his knees go weak.
But nobody could beat Randy ... he had been a fighter all his life. Adrenaline surged through him, he lowered his arms, then brought them up between Bob's arms, and crashed them outward with massive strength, forcing Bob's arms to lose their grip and fly apart. Instantly Randy slapped his hands on Bob's pecs and squeezed his nipples in the vice-like grip of his fingers.
"Aaah!" Bob screamed, taken totally by surprise, and reflexively applied the same treatment to Randy's nipples. The trial of strength began, as each man crushed the hard nipples between his fingers, rolling them, grinding them, cutting them with his finger nails. The pain in their chests was intense as they applied every ounce of strength. They gazed into each other's eyes with rugged defiance, determined not to be the first to buckle under the intense pain.
But Bob saw something in Randy's eyes that unnerved him ... a slight smile, a calm certainty that he could outlast him. And Bob knew that he could. Randy had taken many a beating in his life and had a huge capacity to absorb pain. Bob knew the man could never be made to submit. They could always read each other's thoughts and they did that now. Randy was sure he would win, and he knew that Bob knew that.
His smile broadened. "See, fucker. I am the real master. I am the best. And I can always make you submit. You're a strong mother-fucker, a proud, handsome top man, and that's why I love watching your break. It really turns me on. Give up, man. You know you have to."
Bob's eyes were streaming with tears and his chest was on fire. He felt his will-power draining, felt his knees buckle and Randy saw defeat in his eyes. He applied one last brutal squeeze with his fingers, then yanked them away savagely, sending shafts of pain through Bob's chest, making him scream and fall to his knees. He sobbed as he instinctively covered his ravaged nipples with his hands.
He raised his head and looked up at Randy towering triumphantly over him. "You see, man, you can't win. I can drop you anytime I want. Get up." He grabbed Bob's hair, pulled him to his feet and glared into his eyes. "But any man who resists me always gets punished. Like this ..." He wrapped one fist round Bob's balls and started to squeeze.
The pain was excruciating, crushing Bob's balls then radiating throughout his body. Randy was relentless, pulling at Bob's ball sac, leading him round the clearing, a rope round his neck, like a bull being led to slaughter. Even worse than the pain was the indignity of being pulled around by his balls and Bob howled in agony and humiliation. Randy smiled, knowing that this is what Bob needed, a handsome, powerful master being degraded by another, even stronger.
They came face to face and once again Bob saw the arrogant look of triumph in Randy's eyes, the snarling curl of his lips, the utter self-confidence of the man. And again his need to fight back was absolutely real. Suddenly he brought his knee upward, smashing hard into Randy's groin. There was an agonized scream as Randy released his hold, clutched his own balls and fell to the ground, rolling over and over in pain.
As Bob watched the magnificent bodybuilder groveling before him his cock became rock hard in his jeans. The big construction worker was doubled up, hands cupping his groin, moaning, sobbing, from the searing pain in his balls. The image of the big man groveling in the mud was supremely erotic. But slowly Randy's ragged breathing became calmer and the pain diminished. Lying in the dirt he gazed up at his bound captive and his eyes blazed. "You fucking bastard," he said quietly. "You fucking dared to do that to me." His voice grew louder as he screamed obscenities at him.
He pulled himself to his knees. "You mother-fucking son-of-a-bitch," he growled. "You really want to get hurt, don't you? OK, buddy ... you asked for this."
He reached forward and yanked off Bob's boots, then unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them off too. He stood up and ripped the shorts clean off him. Bob stood naked and watched wide-eyed as Randy paced round him like a wild stallion. He knew now that Randy was angry, and that scared him. His anger was legendary and often made him lose control completely.
Like an animal Randy sensed Bob's fear. "Yeah you should be afraid, man. Nobody does that to me without getting hurt. And I am gonna hurt you, man. You should start begging now."
Bob's eyes flashed. "Go fuck yourself."
Randy unbuckled his belt and pulled it from his jeans. Bob saw the flash of the muscular arm and felt the belt crash round him, burning into his shoulder and back, making him leap backward in a defensive reflex. But although the rope round his neck was long and gave him plenty of room to move he could not avoid the rain of blows. As the belt would round his body, lashing his chest, his arms and back the naked bodybuilder ducked and weaved, ran, stumbled, his neck pulling against the rope, his wrists straining behind his back to break free. And always the searing pain of the lash on his magnificent body.
Randy still felt the pain in his balls and his fury was real. But he did not completely lose control. He was the perfect master and knew when a man was reaching his limits. He knew his own strength and knew that he could totally destroy the man in minutes, but instinctively he held back and applied only part of his strength. He knew exactly how much Bob could take and he was expert at taking him up to his limit and then, for a split second only, taking him beyond. And that would be the moment his victim submitted.
For now, though, he could play for time relishing the sight of this beautiful top man flexing his muscles hard against the crashing belt. He was not only his victim ... he was his lover! And Randy was giving him what they both wanted in the depth of their soul. Bob was screaming now as he staggered blindly, trying hopelessly to avoid the lash. He felt it curl round him and bounce of the burning globes of his ass. The pain in Bob's ravaged body was becoming unbearable ... and Randy knew it. Time to end it.
"Submit, asshole," Randy yelled. "You know you can't take much more. I can cut you to ribbons, man. Give up now. Beg me to stop." He hit harder, now, taking Bob to a new threshold of pain, taking him to his limit ... and then over it, with a single vicious blow across his chest. And that did it."
"OK, OK," Bob screamed. "I submit. I submit, sir. You win, you've beaten me. I give up. Please, sir. Please stop. I'm begging you."
Randy lessened the force of the blows, making them more symbolic than painful. He smiled. "You can do better than that, man. When my lover submits he must show me that I am truly his master. Come on, man. Show me."
Bob was in a delirium of wild desire. This is exactly what he had wanted as he watched his master, the dark, muscular demon, lashing the belt against across his body. He saw his muscles flex, saw his strength ... and felt it in his ravaged body. It was an image out of his wildest fantasy; he was on fire with a mix of pain and infinite pleasure. Bob stopped moving, let his arms fall to his sides and he simply gazed at the glorious man who was whipping him.
His cock was raging, pulsing, rock hard. He moaned in mounting ecstasy. "I love watching you whip me. Thank you, sir. I love you, man. You are my life." Then he saw and felt the belt curl round him hard in one last vicious blow, and he screamed, "I submit!" and his cock erupted with a huge stream of white cum that curled high in the air and splashed down into the mud. Again and again his body convulsed as he shot jets of hot semen into the air.
The whipping stopped abruptly and Randy was motionless as he watched the spectacle in awe. He could not remember anything more beautiful than this magnificent man, proud, powerful, standing in total submission, his cock pouring out its juice in homage to his master.
And only then did Randy lose control. With an animal whimper he ran across the clearing, took Bob in is arms and began to kiss him ... passionately, voraciously. They ground their lips together, pressing their tongues against each other breathing each other's breath. They wanted to devour each other.
Randy finally pulled back and they gazed at each other, each man seeing himself in his lover's eyes in a reflection that stretched to infinity. This was the union of souls that went far beyond their understanding. Randy finally spoke. "There isn't a man on earth like you, Bob. You are magnificent. I couldn't live without you. I love you, man. Never, ever, leave me."
"How could I?" Bob smiled. "Who else in the world would ever give me what you can?"
Bob wanted to demonstrate his submission totally. When Randy untied him he slumped to the ground in exhaustion, while Randy went to the far side of the clearing and sat on the ground, propped on his elbows, watching the naked stud he had just thrashed. On his stomach now Bob raised his head and looked across the expanse of damp earth to the man who was now undoubtedly his master. He heard the deep voice.
"What do you want, man? Tell me what you want from me."
"You've beaten me, sir. I want you to fuck my ass. Please, sir, I want to feel your dick in my ass."
"Then show me. Show me how much you want it. Let me watch a proud muscle-god crawl naked through the mud."
Slowly, painfully Bob dragged himself forward, feeling the wet gravel scrape against the already-tender flesh of his chest and stomach and legs. He heard Randy moan as he watched him crawl like a beaten animal, his straining muscles striped with red welts, his handsome face streaked with mud and tears. Randy's cock was hard as steel as he watched this magnificent male submit to him in total defeat and degradation. It was simply spectacular.
Finally Bob was close enough to grab Randy's boot and he pulled himself forward the last few feet. He kissed the boot, licked it, glorying in the taste and smell of mud-covered leather. He felt the boot pull away and watched as Randy stood up and stripped naked. He looked down at the superb man groveling at his feet and saw his ass, covered with angry red welts, rise up to him in trembling expectation.
And Randy didn't disappoint. In seconds they were rolling together in the mud and Randy was fucking him, not savagely as so often before, but gently, lovingly, to compensate for all the pain he had caused him. Soon he shot his hot pent-up load of cum inside him, then whispered, "Now you, man. I've hurt you and I have to show you I love you. Fuck me."
For the next hour they made passionate love in the dirt and mud, embracing, kissing, fucking each other. Randy licked his lover's wounded flesh, striped with the red marks of the belt he had lashed against it. Finally, exhausted, they lay together naked, gazing at each other, tears streaming from their eyes. They were beyond words. The extraordinary experience they had shared was more than an act of sexual fantasy. It was a profound renewal of their mutual devotion, a pledge of the indestructible bond that united two spectacular men."
At the beach the boat had been pulled up out of the lake and there was a flurry of activity, with a sizzling sound coming from the barbecue. Under Pablo's expert guidance the twins had pulled many fish from the lake and decided that that would be their next meal. They, the cooks, were now in charge; they were the ones giving the orders as Pablo meekly obeyed, a knowing grin on his face. They were so engrossed in their culinary efforts that they were startled to hear a crashing sound from the woods and loud voice saying, "Hell, something smells good."
Crouched round the barbecue the three boys stopped everything and gasped up at the sight before them. Randy and Bob had emerged from the bushes, naked except for their boots, their jeans slung over their shoulders. Most amazing was the state they were in, covered head to foot in mud and grit, skin scratched by the undergrowth they had charged through.
The twins stood and moaned in alarm as they saw Bob, their master, his muscles striped with the obvious lashes of a whip. They were about to run to him but Pablo pulled them back down, with a murmured, "Cool it, guys."
"Lunch, I take it," Bob said cheerfully. "Good morning's fishing it seems. Great, we're starving. We'll be back as soon as we've cleaned up." The men kicked off their boots, ran to the water and threw themselves in with a mighty splash.
The twins were still upset and tumbled over each other's words in protest to Pablo, but he cut them off. "Hey, hey, I said cool it you guys. There's nothing unusual in that. It's just what masters do sometimes ... at least these masters do. Believe me, I know these guys and things have never been better. Never mind the mud ... didn't you notice the glow around them?"
Still confused the twins concentrated again on the fish, and soon the men came out of the lake panting. They dried off, pulled on their jeans and T-shirts. The energy in the air was palpable and the meal turned out to be a raucous one. Afterwards, as the twins were at the lake rinsing dishes Bob spoke to Pablo.
"OK, we've done what we needed to and now it's your turn. Didn't you mention something earlier about a plan you had to help the twins get more confidence?"
Pablo blushed slightly. "Well, sir, like I said it's pretty radical and would need the cooperation of you guys."
"So go ahead, kid," Randy said. "What's on your mind?"
Hesitantly Pablo outlined his plan, and Randy instantly recoiled. "No fucking way, kid. That's never gonna happen. Hell will freeze over before I fucking-well let them do that."
"Should I take that as a no, sir?" asked Pablo slyly with his crooked grin.
"Now wait a minute, wait a minute," Bob said calmly. "When you think about it, it's not a bad idea. Might do everyone a lot of good. I'm in, for one. And Randy, I believe you owe me one ... that's if you're man enough."
Randy grinned at him. "Fuck you, man. There you go again, taking charge. Didn't you learn anything in the woods?" Bob gazed at him with his smiling, soft brown eyes, and Randy melted. "OK, fuck you both. You're pushing your luck ... but do what you have to. God, the things I do for you guys."
"Great," said Pablo leaping to his feet. "Later, when the sun starts to set. I can't wait!"
Saturday morning at the house was a lot less eventful than the scene at the lake. Nobody was working on the weekend so they all slept in late. As Pablo was gone, Zack had come across from his house and spent the night with Darius. After their spectacular session of fantasy sex a few days earlier Zack was being gentle with him and that was perfect for Darius. His imagination had been given a strenuous workout to the point of overload and he was happy now to lie in Zack's arms as they dozed and the morning sun striped their bodies through the window blinds.
But of course, Darius's fantasy file was never closed for long and as he listened to Zack's deep breathing his imagination took flight once again. His capacity for sexual images and icons was infinite and he ran over the sights and people that had turned him on ... at the gym, at work ... and the pictures and drawings he had seen and even jerked off over. He was always on the lookout for ways to turn these erotic images into real-life events.
And today was his birthday!
There was a knock on the bedroom door. Zack stirred, still half asleep, and called out hoarsely, "Come in."
"Happy birthday!" The door opened and in came Mark and Jamie carrying huge, steaming breakfast trays.
"Jesus," said Zack propping himself up on his elbows. "You guys are something else. How did you manage that?"
Mark grinned. "Wasn't easy with the twins not here, but Jamie whipped me into shape at the stove and showed me what to do. He can be a tough boss, let me tell you. Anyway, this is all in honor of the birthday boy."
Mark and Jamie were wearing shorts and T-shirts but Zack and Darius had slept in the nude. "You want us to dress for breakfast?" grinned Zack.
"Hell, no," said Mark. "You guys look your best when you're naked. Wouldn't have it any other way."
The meal on the bed was a noisy affair, with Darius wallowing in the attention he was getting as the man of the hour. And that's how the day progressed, relaxed and easy-going. Usually Mark and Zack never really got much chance to spend time together and this was an opportunity to get to know each other better. And of course Darius and Jamie were in heaven, kidding around, swimming, showing off for their masters.
By mid-afternoon things had calmed down and all four men were lazing on the grass in swim trunks making short work of a case of beer. And as always with this group of lustful guys sex was never far from their thoughts. Suddenly Darius sat up in mock protest and said, "Hey, you guys. No presents for me? Some birthday this turned out to be."
"You know the deal," said Mark. "Tomorrow is party time when the guys get back from the lake and then you get to open your loot. You'll have to cool it `til then."
"In the meantime, of course," Zack said, "we could all just fuck that sweet ass of yours as your birthday present. Come on, kid, don't tell me that hasn't always been one of your fantasies."
"Well ..." Darius said. "One of them maybe."
"OK, here's the deal," Zack said. "As it's your birthday you get to open that grab-bag of fantasies you always carry round with you. Dig deep and tell us your darkest, most secret desire. Tell us something you've always fantasized about and never told to a soul, and you can have it. OK?"
"Awesome, dude," said Jamie. "Go for it, Darius. You may never get the chance again."
Darius's eyes gleamed and he smiled slyly. "You promise ... anything I want?"
"Anything."
"Well ..." he hesitated.
"Come on, kid," said Zack. "Don't be shy."
Well," said Darius slowly. "You know sometimes when it's a guy's birthday his buddies send him a stripper-gram and some dude shows up in a cop uniform and handcuffs the birthday boy and strips for him?"
Mark roared with laughter. "Is that all you want, a fake cop to come and handcuff you and strip off his uniform?"
"Well ... not exactly, sir."
"So what then?" asked Zack. "Come on kid, out with it."
Darius's eyes opened wide. "Well ... if you really want to know my secret fantasy ..." He looked from one to the other and his gaze lingered on Mark. "If you really want to know ... here it is. My fantasy is not about a fake cop, but a real-life one ... and he's the one who gets handcuffed. ...
"And then ... in my fantasy ... I get to fuck him."
TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength ... Part 98"