A Trial of Strength

By moc.loa@9876wr

Published on Sep 26, 2012

Gay

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 119 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER:

With his impetuous, dangerous behavior Randy has humiliated himself and lost the group's respect. Steve says, "You'll have to make a major sacrifice to show them you are still their undisputed boss." In a sexual trial of strength Randy submits to the judgment of them all. "They looked down at the naked man suffering pain and humiliation to prove his strength, endurance, and his magnetic sexuality."


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

ALSO, I urge you to visit my Web-site www.atrialofstrength.com. You can read the whole story, all the many chapters, with extras, including some great artwork. Click on the `Our Story' tab to read it chapter by chapter. Enjoy!


A TRIAL OF STRENGTH – Chapter 119 – "Randy's Sexual Trial of Strength"

Randy raised his head and looked deeply into Pablo's wide eyes. And at that moment Pablo realized how deep his misery went.

It had all begun when Randy walked in on Bob just after he had jerked off thinking of the gorgeous Marine, Hassan. Consumed by his notorious rage and jealousy Randy had fucked Bob savagely then taken Pablo back to the construction site to work off his anger. Disregarding all safety rules, the boss had worked to demolish some unstable scaffolding, which had collapsed, almost killing Pablo. But the boy had survived with only a minor wound, and he now saw that the accident had completely unnerved Randy. He heard the despair in his voice.

"This is the last time, kiddo, the last time I'm gonna hurt you, or Bob or anyone else. It's happened so often before, but this time I could've killed you, Pablo. If I had, I would've killed myself. I'm no good for any of you. Shit, I'm a danger to you. So I can't be your master anymore, nor your dad. I can't be Bob's lover, or boss of this outfit. Everything's too complicated here. I gotta get back to Texas. I was good there ... alone, rootless, roaming like a gypsy. All I needed there was my fists. I gotta go back... live on my own."

Now Pablo sat alone on the trailer's wooden steps. As he gazed into the distance, he was lost ... had no idea what to do. Randy was his hero, his dad, his master ... he was his life. And that life was unraveling. He couldn't imagine a world without the man he worshipped. And what would happen to Bob, Darius, Jamie and all the guys? Everything was totally fucked.

Tears began to flow down his cheeks. He needed help, but where from? He needed someone who was used to this kind of thing, a professional, someone who could handle Randy, talk him through his despair. And then suddenly he knew ... of course! He pulled out his cell phone and called Steve. Controlling his panic he blurted out, "Sir, would you come over to the construction site? Randy needs you big time ...me too." He paused. "You will, right away? Oh thank you, sir. Thank you. Yes, I'll wait here for you."

Pablo snapped the phone shut with a smile of relief. Steve, of course. He was not only Randy's therapist ... he was his brother, for god's sake. He'd know what to do!


All Pablo could do now was wait. His thoughts went back to the house where right around now the twins would be serving dinner. Food! He was starved. All he had eaten was one of the sandwiches that Kyle had shoved in his hand as he left. The rest he had left in the trailer. He plucked up his courage and knocked at the door, to be answered with a harsh "What?!"

He crept in and said, "Excuse me sir, but could I grab the rest of my sandwiches?" He gave his nervous, crooked smile, looking rather like a mischievous Disney character, and Randy softened a little. Impulsively he took the boy into his arms and said in his ear, "I'm sorry, kid. Real sorry." He held him at arm's length. "OK, now take your food and leave me."

Back out on the steps Pablo munched away, mulling over Randy's words, trying to guess from every small intonation of his voice what he was thinking. He could not remember Randy ever saying sorry to him. Apology was not something he did. But what did he mean? Was he sorry for causing the accident ... or sorry that he was leaving him? Anyway, what difference did it make ... he was going away. Pablo's depression returned. Boy, he needed Steve.

It seemed like a long wait but actually it was not much more than twenty minutes before he heard the purring sound of Steve's BMW drawing up at the gate. He rushed across the site and fell into Steve's arms as he got out of the car. The relief of having someone to talk to loosened the floodgates and he started to sob.

"Hey, hey, what's all this?" Steve said smiling. "This isn't the tough kid I used to know, not Randy's boy that's for sure."

The words came tumbling out. "Not his boy, sir, that's just the point. He said he can't be my dad, I'm not his boy ... and he's not the boss anymore ... and Bob's not his lover ... it's all over ... he's going back to Texas ... it's all so fucked, I ..."

"Hey," Steve interrupted, "slow down. Take a deep breath, Pablo. Good. Now start at the beginning. And don't leave anything out."

Pablo pulled himself together and told the whole story, right up to the accident and his rescue by Randy. "He's real cut up about the accident, sir. Blames himself for nearly killing me. Says he's a danger to everyone. Wants to go live alone again like he did before, in Texas." He paused and looked pleadingly at Steve. "Sir, can you help us? I didn't know who else to call."

"Pablo, you did absolutely the right thing." Pablo managed a smile. "That's better," Steve said, "that's the tough kid I know and love. Now here's what you're gonna do next. You're gonna drive Randy's truck back to the house and have dinner with the rest of the guys. Leave Randy to me. You can tell the guys what's happened, and tell Bob I'll call him later, OK?"

Pablo threw his arms round Steve. "I knew you'd fix it, sir. You're the best." As he ran toward the gate he shouted over his shoulder, " ... and the best shrink in town!"

Steve chuckled to himself, then turned toward the trailer and took a deep breath. "Here we go," he murmured and walked up to the door.


Randy was still slumped over the drafting table, his head in his hands. He heard the door open and, thinking it was Pablo again, turned round angrily. Stunned, he shot to his feet. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Pablo called me," Steve said simply.

"He had no business to. This has nothing the fuck to do with you. Stay out of my life."

Steve smiled. "As I understand it, it's you who's getting out of my life ... out of all our lives. Is that true?"

"Damn right it is ... back to Texas." Using the stock therapist's phrase he snarled, "And how do you feel about that, doc?"

Steve put his hand lightly on Randy's arm. "Randy, I'm not talking to you as your therapist, but as your brother. And your brother is taking you home."

To Texas?"

"No, asshole, to Mulholland Drive. You're gonna spend tonight at my house. Pablo's taken your truck and you're coming in my car. Where else you gonna go? Back to your house?"

"No!" There was a note of panic. "No, I can't face those guys. I'm finished there." Suddenly the bleak truth hit him and he slumped visibly. He allowed himself to be led to the BMW and Steve drove them up to the Hollywood Hills.


Steve's lover Lloyd took their arrival in stride. He realized this was a quasi-professional matter and knew better than to comment, except to say, "I'll bring drinks, then rustle up some dinner."

Soon Steve and Randy were sitting at a table by the pool nursing drinks. Despite his dazed condition Randy was on the defensive so he was belligerent. "Look, man, I'll stay here tonight but first thing in the morning I'm off to Texas. So don't try any of your shrink bullshit on me `cause nothing you can say will change my mind."

"I had no intention of insulting you with `shrink bullshit', Randy. Not now ... maybe tomorrow. Right now I want to be practical. With you gone I know Bob and Mark will take charge of the house, but what about the construction sites? They'll fall apart without you."

For a moment Randy snapped back to his old self. "Tell Zack he's in charge ... and he'll need Darius as his assistant." He smiled for the first time, "The punk always has a hard-on working with that stud." Perceptive Steve glimpsed a chink in the armor, but then Randy caught himself and said, "Oh what the fuck, do what you like. Nothing to do with me anymore."

Steve said no more on the subject. Dinner was a short and silent affair and soon Randy went to the guest room and fell into a troubled sleep of physical and emotional exhaustion.

Over the remains of the meal Lloyd smiled at Steve. "You've got your work cut out there, buddy. Jeez, that brother of yours. There's not a guy in the world like him."

"You can say that again," said Steve ruefully. "Now I gotta call Bob."


Hassan had already left the guys' house but the aftermath of his presence still resonated. When Pablo came home from the construction site he was immediately surrounded by the boys all asking questions at once. Darius raised his voice commandingly, "Hey, cool it you guys. Can't you see he's shaken up?" But his authority and his concern did not overcome his intense curiosity and he added, "Now, dude, what gives? Spill the beans."

And so Pablo spilled all the beans to the quartet of wide-eyed boys and soon the whole house had all the chilling details. Pablo, Darius and Jamie were huddled together, sitting cross-legged on the grass, and Bob was in somber conversation with Mark and Zack at the poolside table. It fell to the twins to restore some sense of calm and order. They had slipped away and when they reappeared Kyle cleared his throat noisily. "Sirs ... er, sirs! ... Sorry for the delay, but dinner is finally ready."

When they were all inside sitting round the dinner table, a pall of tension hovered over them. Nobody spoke. But they were saved by the bell ... the telephone ... and Bob left the room to answer it. He was gone for long anxious minutes and when he returned he stood at the table looking down at their expectant faces.

"OK, that was Steve. Randy's staying the night with him, and still insists that tomorrow he's..." his voice cracked ... "he's leaving for Texas." Steve hopes he can talk things through with him but," again he swallowed hard, "but in the meantime we have to be practical. In Randy's absence Mark and I will be in charge of this house and Randy mentioned that Zack should take over the management of the construction sites with Darius as his assistant.

There was murmured assent all round and the twins served dinner, a somber affair with not much said. They all couldn't wait to leave the table. Zack went to Randy's site office to get familiar with current projects and make plans for tomorrow. The twins cleared away the meal while the others went to their rooms ... Mark with Jamie, Pablo with Darius, and Bob all alone.


Pablo sat on the bed and stared with a vacant look. Darius sat beside him with his arm round him. "Hey, don't sweat it, dude. It'll all work out. Hell, he adopted you, dude, he's your dad."

"I just don't get it," Pablo said, near to tears. "I don't care about the accident ... I just want to be with him. How can he just leave me? He always said I'm his rock."

"Yeah," Darius said solemnly, "well you see, dude, right now Randy is between a rock and a hard place."

They both sat back and frowned, confused about what Darius had said, though it kind of sounded as if it made sense. Pablo looked at him and said, "You have no idea what that meant, have you?"

"Not a clue," grinned Darius, "but it sure sounded good." There was silence as Darius tried to keep a straight face, but then he sputtered and started to laugh. Pablo couldn't help joining in and suddenly the gloom and tension were dispelled in the release of laughter."

"Hey, Darius, promise me that you'll never leave me."

Darius feigned shock. "Me? Leave? Not a chance, dude. Where else would I find an ass as sweet as yours? My cock, your ass ... a match made in heaven. Speaking of which, remember what the wise man said? `Sex is the best medicine,' dude."

And for the rest of the night they comforted each other, first by making tender love, and then sleeping in each other's arms.


Whether or not Darius had been right about the medicinal qualities of sex, Mark and Jamie were certainly using the same remedy. Mark was tough and authoritative as always, but Jamie had been shaken, glimpsing the fragility of life and relationships. After all, if Bob and Randy could split up, and Randy could leave Pablo ...

Mark sensed all this and traced his finger round the intertwined `MM' tattoo on Jamie's shoulder. "See that kiddo? That's forever." Then Mark pushed him onto the bed and Jamie watched the nightly show of the glorious cop stripping naked. He knew he was in for a great fuck, which turned out to be not only hotter than ever but, under the circumstances, life-affirming.

Of course the most bereft of the group was Bob, now looking down at his lonely bed ... a loneliness that might last forever. He didn't know how he was going to get through the night, let alone the rest of his life. He felt a lump in his throat and his eyes brimmed with tears.

But just then there was a knock on the door and the twins walked in with a determined look in their eyes. "Sir," Kyle said, "we thought we should spend the night with you." "That's if you don't mind," added Kevin. Bob gazed at their eager young faces and realized he could have no better company. He watched as they quickly kicked off their sneakers, pulled off their T-shirts and dropped their shorts. Naked, they fell on the bed side by side on their backs.

Despite his earlier feeling of despair Bob felt his pulse quicken and he smiled down at them. "Does this mean you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes please, sir," they said in unison. And so Bob did, drowning his sorrows in the velvet warmth of their young asses, first one, then the other. After three almost simultaneous orgasms Bob lay exhausted on the bed with the twins nestled on either side, an arm over his chest. As Bob was drifting off to sleep he heard Kevin's voice.

"And don't worry, sir. We're sure everything will come right. Absolutely sure."


Up on Mulholland the next morning over breakfast Steve pulled out all the stops, reasoning, persuading, listening ... but Randy was resolute, defiant. "Look, man, you can save your breath. You don't get it ... I almost killed my boy! I'll never be able to look him in the eye again, him nor any of the guys. They know what I did ... all my credibility in that house is shot to hell. How can I be the boss when I'm just as likely to go ape-shit and kill one of them?"

Steve sighed. "I do get it, Randy, but I also have a solution for you. I can make it come right." Randy waved him away and Steve's voice took on a pleading tone. "Look, I'm speaking to you now as your brother not your shrink. Shit, man, I only just found the big brother I never knew I had. I've grown to love and respect you ... and now you're walking out on me ... and all the other guys ... your family for chrissake."

"Sorry about that, bro, but you'll just have to get over it," Randy retorted coldly.

Stalemate! Steve had used all the weapons in his arsenal but Randy was implacable. Steve left him and walked back inside the house, though he stayed within earshot just in case. Randy was sitting morosely by the pool finishing his coffee when Lloyd suddenly came out and said, "Randy, you have visitors."

Randy jerked his head up. "Tell them to go the fuck away."

Lloyd smiled. "I don't think they will. They seem pretty determined." Actually the matter was decided for them when two figures emerged from round the side of the house. Lloyd made a strategic withdrawal and Randy looked in surprise at the new arrivals ... the twins, standing resolutely a few yards away.

He shot to his feet and barked, "What the fuck are you two doing here?" He saw them flinch but hold their ground. It was only then that he realized how nervous they were and how much courage it was taking to confront him. He heaved a sigh and sat down again. "How did you get here?"

"We borrowed Darius's truck, sir."

"I didn't mean that. Why are you here? Did Bob send you?"

"No, sir, nobody knows, and please don't tell him." There was a pause as they wound up the courage to continue. Kyle took the lead. "Sir, we've come here to ask you, please, not to leave Bob."

Randy looked at them in amazement and could not resist the trace of a smile that crossed his face. "Oh, you have, have you? And what do you think gives you the right to ask that?"

Another pause, then Kevin took over and it all poured out. Seems they had rehearsed it all on the way up here. "Because we love Bob, sir, and if you love a guy like Bob it's forever. That's the way you love him too, sir, we know that ... he's told us. He talks about you all the time. So we know you can't leave him, sir. It's as simple as that."

Simple as that! Randy was speechless for once. But the twins hadn't finished. It was Kyle's turn. "You should see him, sir. You know how Bob always has that soft, kind look in his eyes. Well now they're kinda blank, sir, as if he's not seeing anything. Same with Pablo too. We heard him crying this morning."

Randy stiffened. "Yeah, because his dad almost killed him."

"No, sir, not because of that ... because you're leaving him. See Bob said he would always take care of us and we believe him. Pablo thought the same about you, sir, but you're leaving him and that's why he's crying. Usually he's so tough. He taught us to stand up for ourselves and ... and that's what we're doing now, sir."

Randy softened and smiled at them. "Seems like you're standing up for a whole bunch of guys. But you know, kids, sometimes you can love a person too much and it makes you scared."

"Not if that person is Bob, sir. You can never love him too much. Fact is, you can never love him enough."

"Shit," Randy said, "when you two take aim at a guy you shoot with both barrels, don't you?"

Now that they had run out of words the twins' determination deflated and they stood close together like scared young boys. They were infinitely moving and Randy's heart went out to them. He admired courage in a man and these two had screwed up their courage because they loved Bob so much they would do anything for him.

And now it was Randy's determination that drained out of him. After the shame of the accident his reflex had been to throw up a defensive wall of bravado. To hell with everyone. He was out of here and they could just get over it. To hell with Steve and his shrink mumbo-jumbo.

But to hell with the twins, too? No. He gazed up at them, two beautiful, nervous young boys who saw life with a clarity that put him to shame. They loved and were loved, and that was that. That made everything certain, just as they had been certain when Bob had been lying in a coma that he would recover "because he promised he would never leave us." And now they had taken the scales from his own eyes, made him see with their youthful clarity that he loved Bob and could never leave him.

He stood up and smiled at them. "Kevin, Kyle, you make one hell of a team. You deserve a terrific guy like Bob. OK, I don't know where this is all going, but I'll give you what you came for. I promise you I won't leave Bob. You're right ... I can't."

"Thank you, sir," they said together. "Thank you very much. We'll go now."

They turned back toward the house. As Randy watched them walk away he saw them take each other's hands and raise them slightly in a triumphant fist. And that did it ... he was suddenly humbled by the power he had to either hurt or heal. Tears welled in his eyes and began to pour down his cheeks. He was sobbing as Steve came up behind him and threw his arm round him. "I heard," Steve said. "And I couldn't have put it better myself."

Randy turned and threw his arms round his brother, holding him tight, and said softly, "I've been such a fucking asshole, Steve. OK, bro. Tell me what I have to do."


The two men were still sitting by the pool but Randy's previously defiant demeanor had changed completely. The direct simplicity of the twins had unnerved him. He was confused, uncertain and, Steve realized, prepared to put himself in Steve's hands.

"OK," Steve said. "Here's the way I see it. You feel devastated and ashamed about the danger you put Pablo in, and so you should. You can't look him or the other guys in the face. You probably think that they all look on you as a pariah, and to a degree you may be right. They used to acknowledge you as boss, with your masculine power and sexual magnetism, but right now they probably don't see you as the strongest, smartest or sexually hottest guy around. So all of that has to be redeemed. To put it simply, you have to make amends."

"Yeah sure, like just say `I'm sorry, guys'. Shit if I crawled on my belly to them it wouldn't be enough."

"You're right. You can't simply ask for forgiveness ... you have to make some radical admission that you have done something terrible. You have to debase yourself before them ... invite punishment from them all. And that punishment has to show them that you are the strongest guy physically, that you are mentally tough enough to humble yourself, and at the same time remain the hottest guy sexually they have ever seen. In short, you have to prove that you are, and always will be, the undisputed boss."

"Yeah," Randy growled cynically. "And just how does my clever shrink brother think I can pull that off?"

"Oh, it'll take a pretty spectacular event to achieve all that. But as you know, big brother, my therapy methods are very unorthodox ... to say the least!"


Steve orchestrated the whole thing. `Unorthodox' didn't begin to describe it and Steve wasn't even sure if it would work. It all depended on Randy. The truth was, he really had to have all those qualities they had talked of. He had to demonstrate to all the guys that he truly was an exceptional man ... the ultimate boss.

The next day Steve had asked the whole group to gather at their house. As they came out into the garden in pairs and groups they stood shocked at what they saw. Steve was smartly dressed as befits a therapist and he was standing by the hammock that, as usual, was strung between trees by the lawn. And in the hammock was a naked man, on his back, arms and legs stretched up and out. He was spread-eagled, wrists and ankles securely tied to the rope supports, his ass hanging slightly over the edge of the hammock.

Randy had never looked more spectacular. As he pulled on his restraints, reflexively testing their strength, his muscles flexed and strained, showing every sinew, every etched vein in his magnificent body, from the stretched shoulders and biceps, past the massive chest and eight-pack abs, over the slim waist and down to the bulging thighs. His dark, gypsy face with the square, stubbled jaw, high cheekbones, tousled black hair and piercing blue eyes looked up at his bound wrists with a trace of last-minute panic.

All the men stood in groups gazing down at him, waiting for Steve to begin, more ringmaster than cool therapist. He cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, you all have an idea why you're here and why you see Randy before you. I don't have to go over the events that led up to this. Randy has submitted himself to the judgment of you all, and you all have to play your part, however unwilling some of you may feel.

"Unwilling? Kidding, right?" Darius's whisper was loud enough for them all to hear. They glared at him and Zack smacked him behind the head.

Ignoring him Steve ran his eyes over the group. "Now, I will determine the order. First has to be the man who has been most injured by recklessness, the man whose very life was endangered.

Pablo shuffled forward uncertainly, but when he looked down into Randy's eyes he knew exactly what his master was doing and what he, as his boy, had to do. His only concern was for Randy not to leave him, and if this was what the doctor ordered he would do it. He would do anything. What made it easier for him was that he had never seen the man he idolized look more spectacular. It was as if the piercing blue eyes were speaking to him and, even under the intimidating gaze of the whole group, the boy's cock was rock hard.

He took a deep breath, walked up to the hammock and pressed the head of his cock against the exposed and vulnerable hole. He stared straight into the bound man's eyes and pushed. His cock slid smoothly into his master's ass and as it came to rest against the inner sphincter he saw the blue eyes flinch slightly. But the gaze never wavered as Pablo withdrew, then pushed in again even deeper.

Pablo had fucked his master only a few times before and now recalled how incredible the sensation was. It was not only the heat of the man's ass, it was the whole notion of the boy fucking his master. The look in Randy's eyes urged him on and Pablo realized that he was asking to be punished. And so Pablo began to fuck more ferociously than he ever had before. Soon his hips were like pistons, driving his rod deeper and deeper into the helpless muscle-god.

Steve had been right. This is what Randy needed. He needed to see the boy he had injured punish him, pound his ass. He needed to see the boy humiliate his master. The pain in his ass was nothing compared with the shame he felt. Even so, the thought crossed his mind that he did not deserve the pleasure he was feeling as the young stud's cock buried inside him, massaging his prostate so rapidly that jolts of ecstasy tore through his body.

The boy's frenzy was driving Randy to a climax. As he gazed up at the intense young face a smile crossed Randy's lips and Pablo responded with his own smile. Master and boy were bonding again, but this time in a remarkable reversal of roles. They thought alike, these two, and that's why Pablo idolized Randy and why Randy would never leave his boy.

The tension in Randy's body now all focused in his ass, and Pablo felt the muscles clamp like a vise round his cock. Their eyes opened wide and their shouts echoed round the hills as their cocks erupted simultaneously, Pablo deep inside his master's ass and Randy blasting streams of cum over his own writhing, muscular body. It was not only a glorious physical release, it was a purging of the shame and guilt Randy had suffered from his own thoughtless acts.

Pablo was exhilarated. He pulled his cock out, but he could not get over the sight of the bound, naked construction boss covered in his own cum, with semen dripping from his ass. The boy couldn't help himself ... the image was too much ... and he felt more juice rising from his balls and through his cock. He held his dick steady and ribbons of cum shot from it down onto the chest and face of the man he now held in greater respect and awe than ever before.


But it was not over. Randy knew it had only just begun. He heard Steve's voice ... "Mark" ... and saw the cop walk forward and tower over him. Steve had chosen him next as he knew that, of all of them, Mark was the man to deliver the extreme punishment that Randy craved

Mark had only just come off his night shift and was still wearing the full black uniform of a police officer. He was, as always, a commanding figure in black uniform pants with their silver stripe, tucked into high, shiny motorcycle boots. His black shirt was tight across his chest, and the white triangle of T-shirt at his neck set off his beautifully chiseled features. With his shock of blond hair it was truly the face of a Greek god.

Now it was master against master. There had always been an undercurrent of rivalry between the two, and Randy knew that Mark was his equal, more than his equal in some ways. Tall, commanding, an icon of almost pornographic beauty, he would never submit to any other man ... including Randy. He stared down at the helpless muscle-stud with disdain in his eyes. Mark loved Bob ... he was in love with him ... and hated any man who caused him pain. So the punishment he was about to deliver to the man who had hurt Bob so many times had a very personal edge.

That was evident to Randy as the blue-gray eyes bored into his. He saw Mark slowly unbutton his shirt and pull it off. He paused, then pulled his T-shirt up over his awesome body and tossed it aside. Stripped the waist, muscles gleaming, he held his arms out to the side and smiled down at the helpless man. Mark knew how amazing he looked, how intimidating his beauty could be, and he sensed fear in the big boss. He said softly, "It's just you and me now, man."

He walked forward, unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, hard as steel. He pressed the head of his cock between the cheeks of Randy's ass, but he did not push his hips forward. He waited, gazing steadily into Randy's fearful eyes. Then he leaned forward, grasped Randy hips ... and suddenly, ferociously, he yanked them forward, impaling the man's ass on his steel rod. And once again the hills echoed with Randy's agonized scream.

The punishment was brutal, more savage than anything Mark had ever administered on duty or off. Bob had told Mark how an enraged Randy had fucked him viciously and now Mark was exacting Bob's revenge. The big, shirtless cop focused all his massive strength on Randy's tortured ass, pounding it, hammering it until shafts of agonizing pain shot through him.

The tortured body was writhing desperately, the dark gypsy face thrashing from side to side, black hair flying wildly. His muscles flexed and bulged as he tried frantically to break the ropes binding him. Randy had never felt pain like this and his screams were terrifying. As the merciless shaft pistoned in his ravaged ass he looked up at the muscular cop and, against all his macho instincts, he started to beg, tears pouring down his face.

"No, man, back off, please. I can't take that ... aaah!" He was hallucinating. "Man, it's like a burning rod in my ass. Pull it out, man. Please ... I can't take it. Aaah! ... You're ripping me apart." He was sobbing now. "OK, you win ... I submit to you, man. I beg you ...have mercy ... I can't take any more!"

Mark caught Bob's eye and knew he had to stop or he would rip the ass open. One last mighty thrust of his cock and it erupted deep inside the ravaged ass. Randy felt the pulsing heat deep inside him and in his delirium was unaware that his own cock was pouring cum once more all over his body. He felt Mark's dick pulling painfully out of him and watched as the cop blasted more streams of white juice over his naked body and face.

He was floating in a dream-like state as he heard Mark's guttural voice ... "Asshole" ... and he felt more hot liquid pour onto him, this time with the bitter, pungent smell of piss. Mark had totally demolished his rival, degraded him, humiliated him before everyone. His chest heaving, sweat pouring from him onto the cum-drenched body, he gazed down at the broken man.

Then Mark heard a voice over his shoulder. "My turn, buddy." It was Zack, who had watched Randy's destruction in awe and knew that he had to have his say. As so often, he was wearing just old boxer shorts and he dropped them and walked forward. Randy could not believe the sight of the naked black bodybuilder, even less the knowledge that there was more to come. He felt the head of the huge black club touch him, then push deep into his already tortured, cum-filled, agonized ass.

"No more," he groaned weakly, but Zack didn't hear. Zack also loved Bob, for his beauty and his gentleness, and he now took his turn plundering the ass of the man who had hurt him. Randy was almost beyond feeling now as he looked up through his mist of pain and saw the beautiful black giant rising and falling above him. His screams had become agonized moans and he could do nothing but wait for the pain to cease.

It didn't take long. Zack was not immune to the sight of the magnificent bound body, soaked in cum, sweat and piss, and he soon felt his cock shudder inside the furnace of Randy's ass. With a howl of triumph he shot his load inside him, then pulled out his cock and poured more juice down into the floods of semen already running down the man's body and face. With one last look at Randy he turned to Mark and they exchanged jubilant smiles of infinite satisfaction.


From then on life for Randy was a blur of pain and a succession of cocks pounding his tortured ass. Mark brought Jamie forward and said, "I did it for Bob because he was hurt. Pablo was hurt too, and he's your friend. Do it for him, and for me, kid. I've opened the ass up for you, boy. That's my juice you'll feel inside. "

That was all Jamie needed to hear. He looked down at the gleaming body and quickly pushed his cock forward. It slid in easily as the hole oozed with the semen of three men. And by this time the ass was such a raging furnace that it didn't take long for Jamie to shoot his load inside it. Then, as his master had done, he pulled his cock out and sprayed white cream all over the cum-soaked body.

The twins came next. They were nervous of course, but they had learned to be assertive and knew they had been accepted as full members of the group. Most of all, they knew they were doing this for Bob. They always found strength in acting together and now was no exception. As Kyle prepared to fuck Randy's ass Kevin threw his leg high over the body so, with one foot on the ground on either side, he was able to straddle the hammock, over Randy's face.

In his daze Randy obediently opened his mouth and felt the young boy's cock slide inside it. At the same time he felt yet another cock enter his ass, mercifully more gently than the vicious pounding he had already endured. And so he suffered the indignity of being double-fucked by the young twins, one in his mouth the other in his ass.

Like Jamie, the twins found the experience too erotic to hold back for long and soon Randy felt the juice of youthful exuberance pouring into his mouth and his ass. They quickly pulled out and stepped back, looking at each other with the quiet satisfaction that they had played their part in these extraordinary events.

Steve's voice again. "I have saved Darius nearly for last for obvious reasons," and he looked down at the boy's already erect ten-inch black dick. Darius had watched in awe a scene that surpassed any extreme fantasy his mind could have concocted. But the effect on him now was, paradoxically, to lessen his natural lust. He looked down at the tortured man and realized the damage his huge cock could do to the ravaged ass. He could rip him open.

So he pushed his dick inside the ass gently, though its length alone was enough to make Randy groan and thrash his head from side to side in renewed agony. Like the other boys before him, Darius was overwhelmed by the heat in Randy's ass. It was like a furnace burning his cock. He had no real joy in further damaging the man he idolized as his boss, so it was pure physical sensation that made him blast his sperm deep inside his ass.

He pulled out but could not resist adding to the cum already drenching the muscle-stud's helpless body and he shot another massive load over him. He stood transfixed by the erotic sight of the tortured body, an image he would remember forever, and jerk off to many times.


Finally Bob walked hesitantly forward and gazed down at his lover. Always able to read Randy's thoughts he recognized the plea for forgiveness in his eyes. So it was with infinite forgiveness, not revenge, that Bob finally took his turn. With exquisite tenderness he eased his cock inside Randy's ass and gently began to massage the cum-slicked, damaged tissue. For Randy it was a healing balm, bringing comfort to his ravaged ass and his tortured mind.

They gazed into each other's eyes and soon tears were flowing down their cheeks. Only they knew the mystical sensation that bound them together and would never let them separate however turbulent the waters they swam through together. And so, quietly, gently, Bob poured his love into Randy's ass and Randy came one last time. They smiled at each other as Bob pulled out, then leaned forward and kissed him.

The other guys had watched in awe. Quietly, Steve gathered them round the hammock and they looked down at the man who had endured unimaginable pain and humiliation to convince them of his strength, and his ability to endure suffering ... not to mention his magnetic sexuality. They gazed in awe at the magnificent body in helpless bondage. His gleaming muscles and handsome dark face were streaming with the cum of so many men, juice oozing from his ass.

It had been Randy's bid to regain their respect and their recognition of him as the ultimate master. And he had succeeded magnificently. They knew instinctively that they had to acknowledge his supremacy with one final collective act, an act on their part no longer of domination but of submission. Taking their cue from Steve, they looked down at him and began to stroke their cocks.

The air was heavy with testosterone, reeking of male sexuality, and it infused the bodies of all the men paying homage to the master. Every one of them felt the eroticism of the moment, felt the blood gorge their cocks, felt the juice rising until it exploded onto the magnificent man bound before them. Randy felt himself drowning in the semen of nine men as it rained down on his face and naked body, drenching him in cum, re-anointing him as the ultimate, undisputed master.


Later that day Mark was sitting quietly with Zack over beers. "So, you think the boat's finally stopped rocking?" asked Zack.

"Wouldn't count on it," Mark grinned. "There's still San Diego to come."

"Is Bob still gonna see Hassan down there?"

"Sure. Bob loves Randy but he knows he has to assert himself and stop asking Randy for permission. Giving in isn't an option. That's what this has been all about, after all. So, I guess we'll see if the peace holds. But I have a feeling Bob knows what he's doing. We'll just have to wait to find out."


TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" ... Part 120

Next: Chapter 120


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