A TRIAL OF STRENGTH – PART 514 By Rob Williams
Chapter 514 – "THE YOUNG MECHANIC'S TRIAL OF STRENGTH"
IN THIS CHAPTER:
The rugged gypsy boss Randy takes off on a bike run with his buddies, the black leather-master Zack and the macho Hispanic Miguel. They head to the desert home of Uncle Mike and his boy Larry, a tough young mechanic. Larry's a top-man but craves for once to be dominated to prove his strength and endurance. In a desert dungeon the three bikers work on him and try to force the young jock to submit. ___________________________________________________________________
<><> IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER <><>
After the big party for the tribe at the Grady House, things were pretty slow at the tribe's compound.
Work on the company's construction sites had slowed for a week, and the bosses, Randy and Zack, along with Zack's lover Miguel, took advantage of this to take a few days off. They took their Harleys on a motorbike run out to the desert, to the Palm Springs home of their buddy Uncle Mike and his boy Larry.
This left Bob, Randy's lover, and co-leader of the tribe, alone with his boys, the identical twins Kyle and Kevin. As they eased into what they called a stay-at-home vacation it wasn't long before things turned sexual. In a dramatic role reversal the twins `took care of' their master, which involved the alpha top-man getting fucked at both ends.
Afterwards they dozed together for a while to recuperate and stirred when the twins' boy Will came in. The young redheaded chef had taken over the kitchen in the twin's absence and Kevin asked, "Is everything going OK out there, Will?"
"All hunky-dory, sir. Pretty slow, actually, like everyone's taking a breather between the Grady party and when the heavy lifting starts up again next week."
Bob asked, "Any word from the biker gang or is it too soon?"
"Actually, sir, Darius got a call from Zack who told him their plans. When they get to Palm Springs they're gonna go straight to Uncle Mike's bar `cos Mike and Larry will be working the lunchtime crowd. After that they said something about going out to Hassan's little house way out there in the wilds of the desert, to check it out."
"More likely check out that dungeon he's got out there in the basement," Kyle grinned. "I'd like to be a fly on those black walls watching Randy, Zack and Miguel get down and dirty."
"Me too," said Kevin. "Three hunky leathermen in a desert dungeon – like the start of a porn movie."
Will frowned in thought. "You wanna know what I think?"
"Duh!" Bob laughed. "We always wanna know what you think, kiddo, `cos you're usually right. Come on, dude. Spill."
"Well, it's just a hunch, sir, but I think the action might start before they even get there. You know how horny those guys get, with those bikes throbbing between their legs. So, they all know that remote place halfway to the desert where Mark and Jamie always make a pit-stop, and Mark fucks Jamie over the tailgate of the truck."
"Ah." Bob smiled, "so you've put two and two together and come up with three – three bikers getting their rocks off together. You could be right."
In fact Will was about to be proved right in the semi-desert scrub halfway to Palm Springs. On the 10 Freeway more than a few heads in cars turned to look as the three leather-hunk bikers sped by – the shirtless Randy in the lead, followed by the black leather-master Zack in a gray tank-top, then the chiseled Hispanic Miguel, his leather vest flying back off his chest in the wind.
"Whether by prior agreement or on impulse, Randy led them careening down the freeway off-ramp onto the small gravel road that led a couple of miles into the wilderness to a cluster of stunted trees that hid them from the distant road. They were alone – no signs of life for miles around.
As Will had predicted they were rampantly horny. From the start the three alpha males were high on adrenaline and testosterone, and the roar of the bikes beneath them had given them all massive boners. Time to get their rocks off, then hit the road again. They pulled up beside each other and swung themselves off their bikes.
Randy was all business. He picked three twigs off a sage bush, two the same length and one shorter. He rolled them in his palms, then held them up in his fist with only the ends showing. "Short stick loses, guy gets thrown across his bike and butt-fucked by the other two, agreed?"
"Agreed," Zack and Miguel chorused. They each drew a stick and displayed them.
"Damn," one of them said. He stood behind his bike and bent forward over the saddle, his chest on the gas tank. He reached up, gripped the handlebars tight and braced himself.
========= CHAPTER 514 =========
<><> THREE HORNY BIKERS <><>
The breeze rustling the dry brush was the only sound in this remote spot in the semi-desert scrub a few miles off the highway, where the three horny leathermen had made a pit-stop to get their rocks off. The powerful bikes throbbing between their legs always built up a head of steam in their balls and they needed a quick fuck before heading back to the road.
To decide the batting order they had drawn small twigs, two long, one short, and the short-stick loser now bent forward over his own bike bracing for what he knew was coming. The other two unsnapped his chaps, ripped open his jeans and pulled them down below his ass.
His ass now on display Randy gripped the handlebars hard and clenched his jaw as he heard Zack say to Miguel. "OK, dude, you take the boss's ass – I'll get the face." The muscular Hispanic pulled out his rigid cock, spat on it and stroked it, then walked up behind the victim and drove his shaft deep in his ass. Randy gritted his teeth and grunted but made no other sound. He had taken much worse than this in his time.
Miguel shucked off his vest and grinned at his lover Zack, the macho black muscle-god, who pulled off his tank-top, ready for action. All three bikers were now shirtless and Zack looked down at the broad muscular back of the rugged gypsy stretched over his own bike.
Zack stood astride the bike's front wheel, grabbed Randy's shaggy black hair and pulled his face up. He stared down at the pale blue eyes in the chiseled face and growled, "Open up, big guy." The stubbled jaw sagged open, Zack ripped open his jeans and shoved his cock in Randy's mouth.
The fuck was without emotion, animalistic, in its lust to simply unload the pent-up jizz that was straining for release. These were three equally tough, solidly built alpha males. They admired and respected each other as buddies – in this case fuck-buddies as they prepared to unload their jizz and get back on the road.
Having drawn the short straw Randy accepted this double fuck as a point of honor. Far from resenting the assault, the muscular gypsy felt an even closer bond with his buddies as two huge cocks pounded in him – one in his ass the other in his face.
The three alpha leathermen were a pornographic spectacle in the silent desert – the bare-chested boss of the tribe splayed face down on his Harley, getting spit-roasted by the dominant black leather-master and his handsome Hispanic lover. Miguel stared across Randy's back at Zack's ebony torso, his rugged features and shaved head – a virile leather icon, his muscles flexing as he pounded the gypsy's face.
They were all so stoked that it wasn't long before Miguel groaned, "Shit, you look so fucking hot, man, and this guy's ass feels so goddam good I gotta spill my load. I just wanna watch you cum in his mouth. You ready, bro?"
His answer was a guttural moan from Zack. His body tensed as he pounded the gypsy face and Miguel's shaft pistoned in and out of his ass. "Fuck, yeah ... I'm gonna cum ... fuuuck ..!"
Randy's body bucked on the Harley as he felt jizz pumping in his ass and down his throat. Miguel and Zack exchanged a triumphant grin as their cocks drained inside their spit-roasted victim. They pulled out fast and Miguel pulled Randy off the bike and onto his feet. He got behind the dazed gypsy, wrapped his arm's round his chest and linked his hands behind Randy's neck, trapping him in a full-nelson hold.
Zack faced Randy and said, "Fucking awesome, man." He locked their lips together in a ferocious kiss and sucked his own jizz out of Randy's mouth.
Zack then dropped to his knees, reached up and slammed his fists against Randy's solid pecs. He squeezed his nipples while sliding his mouth over the gypsy's huge cock that was already dripping pre-cum. It was a display of his admiration for his buddie's strength and endurance, and he sucked the long shaft all the way down his throat, while Miguel held Randy from behind.
Randy looked down at the macho black leather-master on his knees sucking dick, and the sexually-charged image pushed him over the edge. He threw back his head and uttered an animal howl that was carried across the desert on the breeze as his cock swelled in Zack's mouth and blasted semen down the back of his throat. Without once gagging, Zack gulped down his buddy's semen.
When Randy's massive orgasm abated, Miguel freed him, Zack stood up and pulled his lover Miguel into a tight hug. No words were spoken – they were not necessary – as the men matter-of-factly stuffed their cocks back in their jeans and buttoned them up. They exchanged smiles and fist-bumps, then slung their legs over their bikes, kick-started them into life and roared back across the desert scrub, watched only by a pair of hawks wheeling high above them.
The men had simply needed to get their rocks off and, mission accomplished, headed back to the highway. They left behind them the stoic clump of trees, silent witnesses to the homoerotic acts of three horny bikers, one sprawled over his bike getting spit-roasted by his biker buddies.
<><> MIKE'S BIKER BAR <><>
On previous visits to Mike's leather/Levi bar, men of the tribe had always caused a stir when they walked in. And now was no exception as the three super-hot leathermen strode in together – the swarthy shirtless gypsy, the black leather-master in a torn gray tank-top stretched over his muscled torso, and the handsome dark-haired Hispanic, his leather vest hanging over the slabs of his pecs.
The awestruck bar patrons would have creamed heir jeans had they known that just an hour ago the rugged gypsy had been splayed over his Harley and spit-roasted by his buddies.
As it was they were greeted from behind the bar across the room by Mike's welcoming shout. "Guys, you made it. Welcome to the desert." Randy strode across the room, leaned over the bar and bear-hugged Mike. Then he grinned at the shirtless Larry, tending bar next to Mike. "Hey, stud, how's it hangin'?" He curled his hand round the back of his head and pulled him over the bar into a voracious kiss.
The customers looked on in envy – they would gladly have changed places with the young bartender, as Larry was keenly aware. Randy knew it too and took pleasure in boosting the boy's image. When they finally separated Larry smiled at Randy and said, "Welcome to the desert, sir. Hi, Zack. Hi, Miguel." Many of the men lusted after Mike's handsome, tough-looking boy, even more so now as the trio's glamor rubbed off on him.
Larry slid beer bottles across the bar to the new arrivals, then continued serving the customers who now eagerly crowded round the bar to get close to the three bikers. Zack and Miguel turned to face the room, leaning back against the bar, their elbows braced behind them, making their shoulders and chests flex hard. They were the center of attention as men came up to greet them.
A little way down the bar Randy was deep in conversation with Mike. He and Mike had an especially close relationship, almost like father and son. When they first met they had got off to rocky start as Randy had misbehaved bullheadedly and Mike had ordered him out of his house. But deep down they admired and respected each other, the rift had been patched up and Mike was now the only man in the tribe who ever called Randy `boy'.
"Didn't get to speak to you much in that big crowd at Grady's party," Mike said. "So how's it going, son? You being good to that gorgeous man of yours? Bob is one in a million."
"I know it, Mike. I'm still crazy about him – more every day."
"Wasn't always the case, was it, though?"
"Ah, don't remind me, dude. When I fell in love with him I didn't know what hit me and I was scared shitless of losing him."
"So you went all caveman and tried to beat him into submission. But you being a good boy now?"
"Mike, I'd give my life for the guy. I can't imagine life without him."
"I know what you mean, dude. Same with me and Larry."
"How's it going with you two? You got over those rough spots you've had in the past?"
"Yeah. I'm old enough to be his father and I still can't believe that he chose me to fall in love with. But look at him now – happy as a pig in shit, so proud to be on display as a buddy to you three. When you kissed him like that his reputation shot up among this crowd. A lot of them lust for him you know, but he jokes with them and teases them. You should see the tips he pulls in."
Mike gazed fondly at Larry, but Randy detected a hint of uncertainty in his gaze. Over the years the usually rough-and-ready gypsy had learned from his lover Bob some of his sensitivity to signs of unease in others. And when he did sense it, unlike Bob's deft approach, Randy charged right in. "OK, Mike, what's eating you? I know that look. You still scared Larry will give in to one of the offers he gets from these guys?"
"Damn, you don't beat around the bush do you, boy? Nah, it's not that ... well not exactly. It's kinda complicated. I'll tell you back at the house. This lunch crowd will leave soon, then Larry will hand over to our assistant bartender and go spend a few hours in his bike repair shop before coming back here for the evening shift. He works so damn hard. I'll come back to the house with you, get you guys settled in and tell you what's on my mind."
"And you know Mike, I've got your back, always. Whatever I can do to help."
"I know that, Randy. And I love you for it."
<><> TALKING ROUGH STUFF <><>
Randy, Zack and Miguel left the bar after more ostentatious hugs for Larry– in genuine affection but also to boost Larry's macho image among the drooling customers. Then Larry had gone off to work in the motorcycle repair shop Mike had helped him set up.
The guys were pleased to get back to Mike's sprawling house a short ride from the bar to relax a while after their crazy sex out in the scrubland and then the attentions of the noisy crowd in the bar. Mike showed them to their guest rooms. Zack and Miguel would share one, and Randy would have one to himself, though Mike knew that could change.
"`Course, it's up to you where and how you end up," Mike grinned. "No holds barred in this house. I'll bring some beers out to the garden for you. You wanna change out of your leathers?"
"The beer sounds great," Zack said, "but we won't change yet. We're still gonna take a run out to Hassan's house and, er, check out that basement he's got there."
"Yeah," Mike chuckled, "I kinda thought you would. And, er, that's partly what I wanted to talk to you guys about."
They sat at an old table on the lawn under a big shade tree nursing their beers and Randy said, "OK, old buddy, you got something on your mind, so spill."
Mike hesitated. "It's kinda hard to describe. Might sound kinda weird."
"Mike," Randy laughed, "we invented weird. You know you can tell us guys anything."
"Yeah and that's a relief. You're the only guys I could confide in about this. It's about Larry, of course – oh, no problems, he's doing great and things are terrific between us ..."
"... but," Miguel said. "There's a `but' in there somewhere, eh, Mike?"
Mike frowned. "See, I try to do the best for my boy like any man would, make sure he has everything he needs. But I'm always aware of the age difference between us and how he has some feelings – urges – that I can't satisfy." He paused and took a swig of beer.
"You've seen what a hotshot he is behind the bar – tight jeans, boots, no shirt, his torso gleaming under the floodlights over the bar, almost like he's on stage with an audience drooling at the sight of him. He comes across as a major stud, a young alpha jock, a dominant force in the room. Those leather guys all put on a tough show of machismo, but believe me any of them would love to get worked over by him.
"So good so far," Zack said, "sounds like he's having a great time flaunting it – he's a star, lusted over by the whole room. So what's the problem, Mike?"
"Ah, well it's something you guys would understand, you being hot alpha guys yourselves. You know how top-men sometimes feel an urge to ... well, to have the tables turned, put themselves in the position of captive, proving how tough and defiant they can be getting worked over by other top-men, seeing how long it takes to break him and make him submit.
"It's a classic fantasy, you see it in porn movies all the time. I don't mind telling you, before Larry came into my life I used to watch porn and it was usually about a hot macho icon – soldier, cop, construction worker – getting stripped, tied up and abused – whipped sometimes, group-fucked, until the musclehunk is begging for mercy. Damn," Mike chuckled, "gets me hard just talking about it. Do you guys know what I mean?"
"Hmm," Randy mused, "kinda like a big macho gypsy, a construction boss, built like a brick shithouse, sprawled over his own Harley and getting spit-roasted by his biker buddies?"
Mike grinned. "So that's why it took you guys so long to get here – I suspected something of the sort. Just wish I'd been there to jerk off watching it – much hotter than a porn movie."
"So you see, Mike," Zack said, "we do know exactly what you're talking about. So how does Larry fit into all this?"
"Well, to be blunt, that's what Larry wants."
"How do you know, Mike?"
"He told me ... he tells me everything. I happened to see him once staring at himself in a full-length mirror. He was wearing his mechanic's clothes – greasy jeans and boots and a loose ragged tank top – and he had a leather collar round his neck. He was talking dirty to himself, defiant stuff like, you can't break me' and that all you got?'
"Of course I recognized it right away. We talked about it and I told him there was nothing wrong about that – provided it was with a man he could trust. The two of us tried it but, you know how that goes, we are always so close and affectionate that it didn't work. We couldn't stop laughing and ended up falling on the bed and making love. We dropped the subject and haven't spoken about it since.
"But I can see the gleam in Larry's eyes as he looks around the bar at the rough, tough bikers we get in there. And that's what scares me, guys. If he ever decides to go with one of them ..."
"No, no, no, Mike that mustn't happen," Randy said. "There are too many crazies out there – and even if they're not crazy they can lose control in the heat of the moment and go over the top, really hurt the boy."
"That's exactly my fear, Randy. Plus, you know, I have my share of enemies out there – drunks I've thrown out of the bar who feel humiliated and want to get back at me. What better way than through my boy?" Mike got tearful. "Dammit, Randy, I love the kid so much it would destroy me if ..."
"No ifs, Mike `cos it ain't gonna happen," Randy said forcefully. "What you need is a tough dominant guy you can trust – but who can you really trust these days? The answer's right here old buddy. You know you can trust me and my buddies here don't you?"
"Oh man, I was hoping to hear you say that. Of course, I would trust you with my life, Randy – and with my boy. But more than that, you're an expert when it comes to the rough stuff. I mean, when a guy is out to prove himself and he's defiant, daring you on, talking trash to you, he might go too far and not know when to submit. It's kind of a borderline thing and it's up to the top man to know the boy's limits. And like I said, you're the master at that."
Randy grinned at Zack and Miguel. "So what d'ya think, guys, you up for teaching a lesson to a tough, arrogant young buck? Work him over real good until he begs for mercy? All that without injuring the kid?"
Zack grinned. "We've sure got the right place for it – Hassan's basement. We were going there anyway, so instead of beating each other up we'll have a good-looking, muscular young mechanic to fool around with."
"And Mike," Miguel said, "when we're done with him I guarantee he'll run home to the safety of your arms and make love with you like never before."
Mike looked relieved. "Damn, I knew you guys could handle it. But I warn you, Larry is a tough nut to crack. He's got a mouth on him and he can lash out and get real rough. It all comes from his early days as a young skinhead running wild on the streets. When confronted by tough, dominant men, like cops for instance, his instinct was defiance, proving he wasn't scared of anyone. It was a way of rising above his deep-down insecurity of being one of life's losers
"And he's still got the same bad-attitude impulses deep inside him even now, especially when measuring himself against tough guys like you. Personally, I love the bad-boy act he puts on, it's like sex games and I find it a major turn-on. But it can feel real to him and he won't back down, which is why I worry about him."
"Mike," Miguel smiled, "you've just described the sparring contests I have with my boy Finn. He used to be a hustler and still has that street-tough attitude, it's one thing I love about him – he's a challenge. `Course, if he comes on like that with other guys it could spell trouble, so I have to be careful. "
"Exactly, that's what worries me. So Randy, you sure you guys won't really hurt him?"
Randy gazed at Mike with his piercing blue eyes. "Mike, you have my word on it. And whatever the challenge he throws out, whatever we do to him and however mad he makes us, Larry knows we won't hurt him bad `cos he's your boy and I love you, Mike. "
Mike smiled, knowing for sure that his boy would be safe.
<><> THE MECHANIC INSULTS THE BIKERS – BAD IDEA <><>
A short while later the three men hit the road. They had actually planned on going by Larry's workshop as Miguel's bike was giving him trouble. He had told the others, "Don't like the sound of it - misfires a bit. Think the timing might need adjusting." So they had a good reason to get it checked out, and a good excuse to pay Larry a visit.
It was a surprise to Larry when they roared up to his workshop, a converted garage with the door wide open. As always, his cock stiffened as he saw the hot, macho bikers dismount and stroll toward him.
But there was another, subconscious, instinct too, the one Mike had described. Larry loved it when these guys came into the bar and he could show off to the regular customers. But he pushed back against the sense that he was in any way inferior to them. In his former street language, he wanted to be `one of the gang' – or at least to prove to himself that he was as tough as them – that he had the guts to be one of the gang.
So now that they were here, on his territory, he flexed his muscles and put on his tough-guy look as he came out to greet them. He was the iconic image of a young stud mechanic in greasy black jeans and boots, and his old loose tank-top, his body and face streaked with oil.
Wiping his hands on a greasy cloth his smile had a touch of arrogance and the word `sir' was not one that sprang to his lips. "Hey, guys, what brings you to this neck of the woods? You just wanna get off watching a hot mechanic at work, like in the movies?"
"Well, that's a bonus for sure," Randy grinned, "but we were on our way out to Hassan's place in the desert and we stopped by here `cos Miguel's having a spot of trouble with his bike."
"Oh yeah? What the problem, man?"
"The engine misfires and there's a kinda rattling sound when it idles."
"Sounds like the timing chain. Shove over and let me take a look." The tone was curt, an order rather than a request, and Miguel got off the bike.
Larry swung his leg over it, and kick-started it. He revved the throttle a couple of times and said, "Yeah, the timing chain needs adjustment. You know, man, you shouldn't have ridden it in this condition, you could have ruined the chain. Some guys think they know all about bikes but they don't – I see it all the time. I'll take a look at it."
As he rode the bike into the garage Miguel grinned at Randy and Zack after this put-down rebuke from the mechanic. They all saw the machismo act that Mike had warned them about.
While Larry was on his knees checking the bike out the three men wandered round the large space looking over the other bikes that were in for service. Zack said, "Hey, guys, get a look at this BMW. Now that is one classy fucking machine. He swung his leg over it to get the feel of sitting on it. "Hmm, wouldn't mind taking this baby for a spin."
"Hey, get off that bike, man. It belongs to a customer and I don't want it messed up. That goes for everything else in the workshop. Hands off!"
This was not the friendly Larry who had greeted them warmly in the bar. It was an alpha male protecting his turf. And more than that, it was Larry throwing out a challenge, the arrogant mechanic Mike had described, proving that he was their macho equal.
They walked outside, out of earshot, and Randy grinned as he said quietly, "Damn, this kid really wants it. He's already insulted you two, something he would never normally do. Mike was right, the kid is practically begging for it. Did you see that bulge in his pants? I bet his dick is already oozing pre-cum. This could be a real hot scene, guys, but we gotta be careful. He needs to be pushed right up to his pain threshold and then a little bit over it."
"Well you're the expert at that, bro," Zack said. "We'll take our cue from you."
They heard Larry shout from the garage and went back in. "It was an easy fix, I just had to adjust the timing chain. Randy, it was kinda dumb of you to let your buddy ride it in that condition. I thought you knew bikes better than that."
Randy snuck a grin at the others. Now Larry had insulted all three of them.
"It's idling fine but I need to take it out for a test run to make sure it behaves at speed."
"Tell you what," Randy said. "We're on our way out to Hassan's place. Why don't you ride Miguel's bike out there with us and he'll ride yours?"
"Sure, why not? I got time before I gotta go back to work at the bar." Larry pulled out his own bike for Miguel and tossed him the keys. He rolled down the garage door and padlocked it, then straddled Miguel's bike, kick-started it and roared off without a word. Zack said to his buddies, "Damn, the boy's in an all-fire hurry to get out to that basement. Wonder why?" Roaring with laughter they set off after him.
<><> GOING TO HELL <><>
Larry beat them to Hassan's house and was sitting astride Miguel's bike with a smug smile. "Runs just fine now," he said to Miguel. "You're lucky you didn't fuck it up."
Miguel thanked him, the men got off their bikes and Randy said, "Hey, Larry, we're gonna go check out Hassan's basement, see if he's made any changes. Wanna come with us?"
"To that dungeon, so you guys can tie me up and torture me?" Larry grinned. "Sure, you don't scare me none. And last time I was out here to check on the place I filled the fridge with beer."
Hassan had given Randy his key so he unlocked the creaky front door and they went into the dark, musty-smelling house. They grabbed beers from the fridge went down the stairs to the basement and turned up the red ceiling lights that illuminated the middle of the room. "Don't look like anything's changed," Zack said, as they sat around drinking beer.
Far from being your average basement, the room was more like a dungeon. The walls and ceiling were painted black, except that there were floor-to-ceiling mirrors on all four walls. The ceiling was low with beams running across it supporting the floor of the room above. Signs of previous activity were everywhere. There were hooks in the beams and the walls, with ropes and chains hanging from them, plus an assortment of whips, collars, wrist restraints and other paraphernalia.
"Damn, this is hot." Miguel was seeing the room for the first time. "How come Hassan fitted it out like this?"
Randy explained, "It's a reconstruction of the interrogation cell Hassan used in the Middle East war when he was an Arab soldier and interrogated Mark, then fell in love with his captive. When he came to the U.S. he bought this little place, fitted out the basement like this, then asked Mark out here so Mark could give Hassan the same treatment as Hassan had inflicted on him. It was payback time. Since then several of us guys have come out here to use it – when we could find the right victim."
Larry took a swig of beer and gave a sneering grin. "Guess it makes you guys feel like hotshots, eh, when you're hormones are raging and you need to play top-man?"
"Guess so," Randy said. "Makes us feel tough when we've been bad-mouthed by some punk and wanna show him who's boss. Don't take us long to break the guy and have him crawling over the floor begging for mercy."
Larry smirked again. "You guys think you're such tough he-men, with your fantasies about breaking a guy. `Course, that ain't hard when it's three against one. In my book that makes a guy a coward."
Randy sighed, got slowly to his feet and looked at Zack and Miguel. "I don't know about you guys, but I've just about had it up to here listening to trash-talk and being insulted – especially by a young punk who I could break in a heartbeat."
"Oh yeah?" Larry sneered, standing up to face Randy.
"Dude, since we got to your workshop you have insulted us guys one by one – we know nothing about bikes ... we're dumb for taking the bike on the road ... guys who think we're hot shit ... cowards. Man, you don't bad-mouth any man like and get away with it, especially us guys. See, that makes us mad – and you really don't wanna make us mad, boy."
"Or what, asshole?"
"Or this." Randy suddenly grabbed Larry's neck with one hand and slammed the other fist hard in his gut, then another. Larry doubled over coughing, momentarily dazed. "OK, guys ... playtime. Let's teach this insolent young buck a lesson."
Randy wrapped his arms round Larry's waist in a painful bear-hug, holding him tight while Zack and Miguel buckled restraints on his wrists and clipped them to ropes hanging from ceiling hooks, so his arms were stretched up in a V. Zack and Miguel casually returned to their seats and Randy buckled a black leather collar round Larry's neck, then grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look in a wall mirror.
"See that, boy? You see that guy in the mirror? The cocky young grease-monkey don't look so tough now, does he? You ready to save yourself a whole mess of trouble and apologize to these guys?"
"Go to hell, asshole," Larry snarled.
"No, punk, it's you going to hell – a hell created by us. You think about that while me and my buddies finish our beers." Randy sat back with the others and picked up his beer. "So guys, get a good long look at our new prisoner. What do ya think?"
<><> ONE TOUGH SON-OF-A-BITCH <><>
Larry glared at them defiantly and the muscles of his stretched body bulged as he tugged uselessly at his bound wrists. "Hot-looking young jock ain't he," Zack said, taking a swig of beer. "Shame to spoil that handsome face and ripped body."
"Yeah, but it's gotta be done," Miguel said. "Can't let him get away with the stunt he pulled. He's gotta be cut down to size, made to beg."
As they talked about what they were going to do to him Larry listened with mixed feelings. This was what he had fantasized about, had craved. But now it was a reality, and that old street-tough arrogance rose up in him. He always hated to be humiliated, had always fought back against it, and now, looking at himself in the mirror, helplessly bound, he felt real anger toward these dominant men. He would show them – show them in a trial of strength how tough he could be. No way they were gonna break him.
"So, asshole, you ready to apologize to us and beg for mercy?"
"Fuck you all," Larry yelled. "Under all that leather you're nothing – a bunch of morons playing at being tough guys. You ain't got the guts to hurt me. Come on, assholes, take your best shot."
Randy had heard enough. He jumped to his feet, grabbed a whip from the wall, a cat o' nine tails, and lashed it across Larry's chest, one side then the other until the young stud howled in pain. Randy had chosen the cat deliberately as its strips of rawhide hurt less than a bullwhip would have, but it still stung enough to bring tears to the boy's eyes.
When Randy stopped he pushed the handle under Larry's chin, forcing him to look up and stare at the reflection of the bound mechanic. His tank had been ripped off one shoulder and now hung loosely from the other, his exposed body already showing faint whip marks among the smears of grease.
"You ready to say sorry, boy?" Randy punctuated his words with light slaps across his cheeks. "You ready to beg for mercy?"
Through gritted teeth Larry said, "Go to hell."
"You hear that guys? Come here and give me a hand. We gotta teach this guy a lesson."
Zack and Miguel stood up and each grabbed whips. Randy ripped the rest of the ragged tank from Larry's chest so it fell in shreds round his waist. Then all three men began to whip him –his bare chest, his back and ass – not heavy strokes, but the sheer number of lashes from all sides falling on him simultaneously made him howl again like a wounded animal.
Finally Randy called a halt. "Guys, this one real tough mother-fucker – we ain't gonna break him like this. We'll take a breather then work on that hot ass of his. They stood back, grabbed their beer bottles and stared at the muscle-jock, his torso striped by whip lashes, but still clenching his jaw in a look of angry defiance.
Zack growled, "Man, I wanna wipe that look off his face. I wanna see the kid stripped naked."
"No problem, bro," Randy said. "You two get his boots – mind the kicks."
They knelt at his feet and Zack wrapped his muscular arms round his legs while Miguel pulled off the boots. Randy ripped open Larry's jeans and pulled them down round his ankles, leaving the shreds of his torn tank hanging round his waist. Larry's cock sprang out hard as a rock."
"Damn, will you look at that, guys? The stud gets off on it. Getting roughed up turns you on, eh boy? You want more?"
In reply Larry spat full in Randy's face. The gypsy roared, "Fuck you, asshole," and slapped his face hard from side to side. Then he slapped his long, stiff cock that bounced under the blows and made his handsome face wince in pain. "Zack, you get his ass while I grab the nuts."
Randy wrapped his hand round Larry's balls and pulled on the sac. His laser-blue eyes bored into the young mechanic and he flinched. And that was the moment when Larry bonded with his captor and realized what Randy was doing. He was doing this for Mike – for Larry and Mike. "Fuck," he murmured. "Fuck!"
Randy too had a new realization. As he gazed at the savage strength in Larry's eyes he saw his younger self – saw the same grit and determination. And he knew where it came from – from Larry's earlier life running wild on the hostile streets where he had to be tough to survive. Randy's strength too had been forged on the hardscrabble streets of west Texas as an itinerant gypsy protecting himself and his brothers with his fists.
This room had been constructed by a man, Hassan, who had interrogated and tortured a soldier, and in the agonizing process, captor and captive had fallen in love. And that same dynamic was in play now as Larry felt that otherworldly mix of emotions – rage, resentment, but at the same time a counterintuitive savage love for his captor.
Larry was trapped by the gypsy's hypnotic eyes, unable to tear himself away. He felt powerless ... and resented the feeling like hell. He yelled, "That all you got asshole? You're never gonna break me – I'm too tough for you."
Randy yanked his balls harder and Larry gritted his teeth. Behind him Zack slapped his ass until red handprints rose on the bouncing white globes. Randy's deep voice growled, "My buddy has this long, thick black hunk of prime beef between his legs, dude. It's like a weapon, and he's gonna shove his dick in your sorry ass. And you're gonna keep looking in my eyes while you feel that shaft driving down your chute. Go for it, Zack."
It was a point of honor for Larry not to flinch from the intensity of Randy's gaze. He barely blinked as he felt the massive cock enter him, and Zack's muscular arm folded round his neck from behind. As the rod started to piston inside him there was even a trace of arrogance in his gaze as he stared into the hypnotic blue eyes. "Fuck you, boy," Randy growled softly, more in admiration than anger. "You are one tough son of a bitch. But I'll get you."
Larry braced for more abuse and was stunned when Randy sank to his knees in front of him, and was even more shocked at what came next. "Pound that ass, Zack," he shouted. "I wanna make the insolent young jock bust his load." Larry's cock was pointing straight at Randy's face. He licked the pre-cum oozing from the head and pulled back, stretching out a fine thread with the tip of his tongue.
Larry stared down in awe at the sight of the stubbled jaw sagging open as Randy lowered his mouth on his cock. The boy had rarely seen anything as erotic as the gypsy's swarthy sculpted face moving down and back on his cock, swallowing it deep in his throat, his shaggy black hair falling over his face as he sucked dick.
His defiant attitude faded as he felt the black leather-master's rod pile-driving his ass while the construction boss ate his cock. For the first time he lost control ... he couldn't hold back. Suddenly Randy pulled his mouth off his cock, grabbed Larry's cock and pounded it hard in one hand, still squeezing his balls with the other. Larry stared down at the seductive blue eyes staring up at him and he howled ... "aaagh!" ... as his cock erupted and blasted jizz full into the gypsy's rugged face.
He could hardly believe the pornographic sight of Randy's face streaming with cum, and he braced for more punishment. Randy yelled, "Miguel, take over from Zack and plough this man's ass. Larry felt one cock slide out of him to be replaced by another that was soon driving into him with the same intensity.
But, even though Larry's cock had drained, Randy was still stroking it hard. The feeling was intense, painful, and then got worse as Randy took his hand off his balls and started running it over the tip of his cock. The head of his cock was now ultra-sensitive after his orgasm and the touch of Randy's hand rubbing it created a new kind of agonizing pain, worse than any whip.
"No," he yelled, "I already shot my load. Stop ... stop ... aaagh! No ... I can't ... no ...."
"All you have to do is submit, boy. You're finished, I've broken you. You gotta give up ... say it, man ... say the word ... submit."
Larry's eyes blazed down at him and he yelled, "Fuck you, man, I'll never submit. You'll never break me ... aaagh! ... fuck you ..."
"Damn," Randy roared. "Damn you, boy." He shot to his feet and said. "Cut him down guys."
Amazed at the turn of events Zack and Miguel unhooked Larry's wrists and he crumpled to the floor. Randy hooked his boot under him and flipped him over on his back, the tough mechanic bruised and battered but still unbowed and defiant. "Hold him down guys," Randy growled as he ripped open his own jeans and pulled out his huge, iron-hard dick.
He stared down at the young muscle-jock, naked except for the ragged tank round his waist, his wrists pinned to the floor above his head by Zack and Miguel kneeling behind him. "Now you're gonna submit to me, boy. Everyone surrenders to this." Randy dropped to his knees behind Larry and pushed his legs back. My buddies didn't cum in your ass, so you get a dry fuck, kid."
Larry's shouts echoed round the room as Randy drove his thick dry cock inside him. The bruised mechanic struggled to free himself from the men holding him down but knew that he was at the mercy of this wild-eyed gypsy and the brutal shaft ramrodding his ass.
"Now submit, boy. This is how I break a man. You already emptied your load but I can make you cum again. And when you do I wanna hear the word submit. Get it?"
"No, sir. You won't break me. I'll cum for you because I want to, because I love you. But you'll never make me submit."
"Damn you, boy!" Randy was angry and frustrated by his failure to break the boy. He understood now how a man could lose control with a boy like this, as Mike had feared, but he had promised Mike no real harm would come to him. And the last thing Randy wanted was to hurt Larry. He respected his strength and courage, the traits he always admired in a man, the same guts and grit he himself had built up over the years.
So the climax was savage and quick. "Look at me, boy. The steel blue eyes penetrated Larry's just as his cock penetrated his ass. Randy hammered him right up to the edge of his pain threshold, then said. "I'm gonna cum in your ass, kid, and I wanna watch you shoot another load. It's not a submission, it's a celebration – of two tough men who never give up, never submit to another man. You ready, bro?"
Randy pounded his ass, Larry was lost in the hypnotic blue eyes ... and their orgasms were simultaneous. Randy blasted a hot load in his ass as Larry's cock erupted for a second time all over his writhing body.
Zack and Miguel released him, knelt on either side of him and stroked their cocks. They smiled at each other, then down at the naked mechanic and blasted jizz in his face, a homage to the guts and endurance of this defiant young buck – Mike's boy."
<><> LARRY'S A STAR <><>
Randy stood up and gently pulled Larry to his feet. He wrapped his arms round him and held him tight until his body stopped trembling, then he kissed him, long and hard. When he pulled back he smiled into Larry's eyes. "Un-fucking-believable, dude. Damn you're tough. Are you OK? I promised Mike you'd be OK."
Larry grinned broadly. "Never better, sir. On top of the world."
Randy raised Larry's arm high. "What do you say, guys? One of us?"
"Damn straight," Zack grinned. "Definitely one of us."
"Sir," Larry said. "I gotta get back to the bar and start work."
"You sure you're up to it, man?"
"Sure," he grinned. "I don't call in sick just because I got tied up, tortured, gut-punched, whipped and gang fucked. But would you guys do me a favor and come into the bar with me before you go back home with Mike?"
Randy knew why Larry asked that and willingly agreed. Larry pulled on his jeans and boots but left the ragged tank still hanging round his waist. He also did not take off the collar. They closed up the house, straddled their bikes and roared off into town – four shirtless bikers, with Larry triumphantly in the lead – definitely one of the pack.
When they walked into the bar they caused a minor sensation. There was Larry in the company of the three hottest biker hunks ever to set foot in the place – and they had obviously been working Larry over.
He took up his position behind the bar under the spotlights looking like he'd just stepped out of a porn movie – a handsome muscle-jock stripped to the waist, his body streaked with oil and striped with marks of the whip. His shirt had been ripped off him and hung in shreds round his waist, and he still had a slave collar round his neck.
The customers could only fantasize about what it was like getting manhandled by this trio, and a crowd gathered eagerly round the bar. Larry was a star and played the hell out of it, exuding machismo and flaunting his striped body as he served their drinks.
"You had a good time, kid?" Mike asked quietly next to him.
"What does it look like sir?" Larry grinned roguishly. "Er, sir, when we go to bed tonight and make love, is it OK if I fuck you?"
Mike smiled, "The way you look right now, stud, you can do what the hell you like to me."
Mike left Larry alone behind the bar to bathe in the adulation of the crowd, and joined his three friends. "Guys, how can I thank you? Look at him. I've never seen him so pumped up, you must've given him exactly what he needed and now he looks like the toughest guy in town. Feels like it too."
"Man, your boy is one tough young buck," Randy said. "We threw everything at him and couldn't break him – he wouldn't submit. New experience for me – one of my failures."
"No, Randy, your biggest success. Damn, he's having the time of his life – and is he ever gonna be raking in the tips tonight." Before they left Randy went up to the bar for a parting shot. He grinned at Larry, "Whenever you want pay-back time, buddy, just say the word. I'll be all yours."
Leaving a stunned crowd behind him Randy joined Mike and the others in the parking lot. "Oh, before I forget, Randy," Mike said, "Bob called and when we get back to the house he wants you to call him."
"Nothing wrong, is there?" Randy asked in alarm.
"Nah, nothing like that. On the contrary, he's having a great time with the twins – you know he's having a mini-vacation with them and Will. And, er, they're gonna be spending time with Mark and Jamie, who are also kicking back for a few days." Mike watched Randy's reaction carefully.
"None of my business, of course, but I know how it is with Bob and Mark – you know, so close and all. So, er ... are you OK these days with Bob and Mark spending time with each other."
"Sure I am, Mike. We settled all that a long time ago. We all three love each other so I'm OK with whatever they do."
"Yeah, good. I think he just needed to hear that from you, buddy."
"Sure, I'll talk to Bob. I'll tell him to have a good time with Mark ... whatever they do."
Mike was not entirely convinced and rode back to the house deep in thought.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 515
Hey guys, this is Rob Williams. I hope that chapter got you off, and I welcome your comments and suggestions, which can be very helpful in planning future chapters. E-mail me in confidence at rw6789@aol.com.
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