A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 188 By Rob Williams
IN THIS CHAPTER:
Jason is traumatized by a tragedy at a fire and Mark helps his friend regain his manhood in a test of sexual supremacy. First the cop tops the fireman. "You feel that, stud? Take's a real man to ride this cop's big club." But later the naked cop is bound, spread-eagled, taunted by the fireman. "Your turn, officer, to feel a fireman's rod drilling your ass." But in the end it is young Ben whose love heals his master.
A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - Chapter 188 – "The Cop & The Fireman – Sex Therapy"
It was late Sunday afternoon when Mark and Jamie reluctantly left the cosseted world of the Ritz-Carlton and headed back to the regular existence of mere mortals. But not before they had said affectionate farewells to their handsome new friend, the Italian pool-boy Mario, with his dark, sculpted features, green eyes, curly black hair and his flawlessly muscular body. To say nothing of his dazzling smile and his lilting Italian accent.
After Jamie, and then Mark, had fucked his perfect ass Jamie had said, "That does it, dude – no question about it. From now on we're buddies – friends – amicos ... capisce?" And they had spent the rest of the weekend exploring this growing friendship where, among other things Mario had proved the truth of his claim: "Usually I am, er – come se dice – I am a top man, Jamie." And he had shown Jamie just how top' he could be much to Jamie's delight and sore ass. Mario gave Jamie as good as he had gotten from him and they felt they were equal – amicos' as Jamie kept calling it.
"Actually, Jamie," Mario smiled at him, "the correct Italian word is `amici'." Jamie laughed, "Whatever, dude ... that's what we are anyway. I'll jack off thinking about you, Mario, and I hope you'll do the same." They parted with vows to stay in touch and for Mario to visit Jamie in L.A. When Mark hugged Mario goodbye and kissed him hard on the lips that clinched the deal as far as Mario was concerned. He had to see these guys again.
Later as Mark and Jamie drove north on the San Diego Freeway Jamie was still smiling and Mark said, "So, looks like you've found a new friend, kiddo. OK if I get to fuck him again when he comes to visit?"
"Of course, sir, provided I get to watch. He's totally in awe of you, sir ... he told me you're like a god – and I agreed of course. I really like him, sir, and not only because he's totally fucking gorgeous. We have a lot in common, even though he's Italian and all. Did you hear him say he's taking a course in business affairs? That's what I do for the Company and now that Bob's made me the head of the new finance department I'll have to hire new staff and ..."
"Hey, hey, let's not get ahead of ourselves here, kiddo," Mark laughed. "Let's let the dust settle first, OK?" Mark was eager for Jamie to find friends outside of their group – spread his wings a bit – but he was a realist too. "You ever heard of a shipboard romance, kiddo?" Jamie shook his head. "Well, it's when two people meet on an ocean liner and have a hot and heavy affair. When the voyage ends they think they're in love and promise to get together ... but they never see each other again."
"It's not gonna be like that with me and Mario, sir, Jamie insisted. We're amicos – or amici or whatever."
"Maybe so," Mark grinned, "but right now you should be bracing yourself for the inquisition when we get home. You know Darius and the guys are gonna want a blow-by blow account ..." and Jamie added with a laugh, "... exaggerations accepted."
Mark was right, of course. Because of the heavy homebound Sunday freeway traffic he and Jamie were the last to get home from their weekend trip, and the boys pounced. They dragged Jamie into the kitchen where all the boys had gathered while the twins cooked dinner. The others had already traded their own weekend stories and now, when Jamie mentioned a drop-dead gorgeous Italian pool-boy, even dinner preparations stopped dead while Jamie told his story to the awestruck upturned faces of Darius, Pablo, the twins, Ben, Nate and Eddie.
"That is so cool, dude," Darius gushed. "When we gonna meet this stud?" Jamie replied rather formally, "Not right away ... Mark said we have to let the dust settle – make sure it's not a shipboard romance." This obscure reference let loose another barrage of questions, which were fortunately curtailed when Bob walked in and suggested that they set up two tables in the garden – one for the men and the other for the boys.
"Wise move, buddy," said Randy later as they began to eat dinner. "Listen to that racket." The boys were all talking over each other, the volume mounting as they each tried to be heard, one-upping each other on their various adventures alone with their masters. Mark had called the master/boy weekends `quality time' and now Randy growled, "Shit, you call this quality time? Next time I vote we gag the little fuckers."
Conversation at the guys' table was much more businesslike, focusing on the workweek that would start next day. Mark and Jason both had early shifts and they realized they would be covering the same general territory, which was not unusual as Jason's firehouse and Mark's police station were not far from each other.
The dinner broke up earlier than usual as they were all tired from their weekend exertions. Adam and Nate went back to their house next door; Ben went home with Jason; and Eddie left with Hassan. In the master suite as Randy and Bob got undressed for bed Randy said, "At last I've got you to myself, buddy, and I'm gonna treat you to my own version of `quality time' before we hit the sack."
"I'm all yours," said Bob. "I know you are," Randy grinned.
After the exhilarating events of the weekend break most of the guys were glad to get back to their work routines. Mark was the first to leave the house after his usual early-morning fuck leaving Jamie lying on the bed with a dazed smile on his face. An hour later Mark was astride his motorcycle, making heads turn to look at the police officer, stunning as ever in his black uniform, high leather boots, helmet and mirror sunglasses complementing his handsome, square-jawed features.
The throb of the machine between his legs always juiced him up and kept his cock in a state of semi-erection in his pants, especially when he thought of his surfer-boy waiting for him naked on the bed when he got home. Looked like a fairly routine, quiet shift, he thought, with sunny weather as usual, and no major traffic tie-ups. Monday morning was usually his easiest shift, as he imagined with a cynical smile that most gang members would still be sleeping it off after a heavy weekend.
Then suddenly came the first call from the dispatcher. He was needed for backup at a house-fire that the local fire company was responding to – the usual thing, crowd and traffic control to leave the field clear for the fire-fighters to do their job. He turned on his emergency lights and siren and sped on his way. Often calls to house-fires were nothing special – a kitchen fire that the guys knocked down easily. But as he approached this one he realized it was a major job, with the house engulfed in flames.
He quickly checked in with the police captain and turned his attention to the gathering crowd that was pretty much already under control. He saw from the fire-trucks that it was Jason's unit doing the heavy work. Seemed that the family was already safely out of the house, huddled together in a dazed group, but suddenly one of them, a young girl, started screaming that her aunt was still inside, apparently trapped in her bedroom.
One of the fire-fighters reacted instantly and charged into the house. Despite the heavy uniform and helmet Mark could tell that it was Jason. Inside the house Jason realized he only had seconds as the smoke was thick and the flames taking hold. Following the woman's screams he reached a bedroom and saw through the smoke that she was trapped under fallen furniture.
Frantically he tore at the table and a heavy chest covering her and grabbed her arm trying to pull her free. He felt her moving but just then a burst of flame shot from the ceiling and he could see that the roof was about to collapse. He tugged desperately, but as flaming beams rained down he had to withdraw, a split second before the roof fell in and he lost sight of the woman. All he could hear were her agonized screams. The whole house was about to collapse and, running on instinct and adrenaline, Jason blundered through the dense smoke in the direction of the front door.
For once Mark was losing his professional cool as he realized that his good buddy was inside this inferno risking his life. His reflex was to run in after him but he knew this would be futile and against all his training. There was nothing he could do but watch in horror and wait. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the fireman stagger out through the door, choking and retching from inhaling so much smoke.
Instantly paramedics ran forward to support him, laid him on the ground and clamped an oxygen mask over his face. Mark came close and watched, careful not to get in their way. The paramedics pulled off Jason's flame-singed helmet and jacket, checked him out and, after tense minutes, told Mark there was no physical damage, apart from some smoke inhalation. "He looks a mess – all that smoke and all – but he's damn lucky he escaped without a scratch – physically at least – though he'll probably be a basket case mentally for a while. They were proved right when Jason suddenly tore the mask from his face and, despite their attempts to restrain him, staggered to his feet. "Gotta go back in," he was saying repeatedly.
But the fire captain was at his elbow holding him back, speaking in soothing tones. "It's finished, Jason. God knows you did all you could – way beyond the call of duty – but nobody could have saved her." Jason was staring vacantly at the pile of rubble and said to no-one in particular, "I didn't do enough ... I let her die."
The fire captain turned to Mark, whom he knew well. "A common reaction, blaming himself. It's tough to lose one. He's mostly in shock. Look, Mark, we're up to our eyes in this, no men to spare, but you're a buddy of his. Could you take him home? – he needs to feel safe with a buddy like you. I'll get the medics to drive you there and I'll clear it with your chief, OK?"
Mark saw the sense in this and agreed. By this time Jason's eyes had glazed over as visions of the disaster traumatized his mind. But he dimly recognized Mark and allowed himself to be led to the paramedics' truck, moaning incoherently, "... the screams ... she was screaming for help ...I let go of her hand... I let her die ... I good as killed her..."
"It's OK buddy, this is Mark and I'm taking you home. You'll feel better there – just you and me." They sat together in the paramedics' truck, Mark with his arm round Jason's shoulders, both of them staring into an indeterminate distance.
At the house the medics reassured Mark that all Jason needed right now was bed-rest and not to be left alone. "And down the line a good therapist familiar with the needs of first responders. Sorry, but we gotta get back. Good luck with him, officer."
Alone now, Mark managed to get Jason to his room and let him fall fully clothed onto the bed. His instinct was to undress him and clear the smoke and dirt from his face, but he restrained himself. Jason had to be left alone so he could sleep. Plenty of time for a cleanup later. And almost immediately Jason closed his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep, a result of exhaustion and shock, nature doing its job of shutting down the mind to block out the trauma.
Mark watched over him for a while, gazing at the troubled face, still handsome even under a coating of smoke stains. The thought flashed through his mind that at least Jason's stunning beauty was still intact. Strange, he thought, how the ever-vain fireman had given no thought to that as he had rushed into the burning house. Now all that needed to be repaired was his mind.
With that in mind Mark went quietly into the next room and called Steve. Steve was therapist to various police and fire departments and had been Mark's anger management therapist years ago. Now, as Randy's brother, he was also kind of the unofficial shrink for the close-knit tribe of men and boys. Steve took Mark's call immediately and listened as the cop calmly and concisely explained what had happened.
"OK," buddy," Steve said. "It's gonna be real rough for a while ... losing a fire victim like that is traumatic and can have a profound effect on a fire-fighter. He'll second-guess himself, blame himself and hear her screams as if they were real. I won't come over for a while because he would resent my presence and wouldn't listen to anything I say. What he needs right now is rest and the company of a strong buddy like you ... but not a crowd. Don't let the other guys come over, except maybe a couple of the boys as backup to provide essentials like food and drink so you can stay with him. I'll come over later."
Mark's next call was to Bob who agreed with Steve's advice. "Yeah, last thing he needs is a bunch of guys standing round his bed. I think I'll send Jamie over to the construction site to pick up Ben and drive him over there. I'm here in the office with him right now. Here, have a word with him. Good luck, Mark." Mark had a quick conversation with Jamie, explaining what was needed and Jamie listened calmly. Some of the cop's professional efficiency had rubbed off on his boy – a great kid to have around in an emergency.
Mark shut off the phone and took a deep breath ... it was going to be a long day. He stretched, unbuttoned his uniform shirt and shrugged it off. His white T-shirt was stretched over his torso and tucked into his uniform pants, his slim waist cinched by a heavy black belt, and he was still wearing his tall, shiny motorcycle boots. He sat down to take a breather but instantly shot out of the chair when he heard Jason screaming next door.
He rushed into the bedroom to find Jason writhing on the bed, drenched in sweat, still in the throes of a nightmare, doubtless hearing the woman's screams. Mark did his best to calm him down with a soothing voice, laying his hands lightly on him to control his thrashing body. When he settled down Mark realized he had to get Jason out of his soaking T-shirt so he pulled the suspenders from his shoulders and, as gently as possible, pulled the T-shirt off over his head. Now he lay stripped down to his protective yellow uniform pants and heavy boots.
But the feel of the stinking wet shirt brushing over his face stirred Jason again and he looked up wildly at Mark. In his delirious state he didn't recognize him and when he saw the cop's belt, pants and boots he became highly agitated. "No!" he yelled. "Stay away from me ... I gotta get out of here ... gotta go back." He leapt up from the bed and shoved Mark aside with such force that the cop fell heavily against the wall.
Shirtless now, his suspenders hanging to his sides, Jason darted from the room and out of the house. Dazed, Mark pulled himself together and ran after him. Outside he saw Jason sprinting across the lawn toward the gate, and he knew he had to stop him before reached it. He sprinted across the grass and launched himself at Jason's waist in a flying football tackle. The cop and the fireman crashed to the ground and rolled over the grass but Jason, with the adrenaline strength of a wild man, ended up on top, astride Mark, pounding on his chest.
"You fucking asshole ... I gotta go back ... she's still screaming ... you can't stop me." In a blind rage Jason grabbed the neck of Mark's T-shirt, yanked it up so Mark's back came up off the ground, and he slapped his palm and the back of his hand across both sides of his face. As Mark jerked back from the blow the T-shirt ripped and he fell back on the ground, leaving Jason holding the shredded remains of his shirt.
Flailing wildly Jason looked down at the naked torso and began pounding his fists onto the ridges of Mark's abs that the cop flexed hard to absorb the blows. Through the turmoil and the pain Mark instinctively knew that Jason was venting his anger at himself and the world through physical action, lashing out in a blind frenzy at anyone, anything, to assuage his own guilt. Mark could have overpowered him, but for now he suffered the brutal gut-punching if it would drive the hysteria from Jason's tortured mind.
Just then the gate opened and Jamie and Ben came in. The boys gazed in stunned disbelief at the scene, the cop and the fireman on the ground, both shirtless, muscles flexed and bulging as the fireman knelt astride the cop, gut-punching him savagely. The two blond muscle-studs strained in combat, Mark's rugged, chiseled features twisted in pain, Jason pouring with sweat that ran down his soot-covered face. It was a wildly erotic scene but it horrified the boys.
Ben took a frantic step forward but Jamie grabbed his arm and held him in check. "No, Ben, don't. This is between the masters, and boys don't get involved – it's a rule. Bob warned me that we mustn't intervene no matter what happened." He held fast onto Ben, knowing that, like his big brother Randy, it was hard for the tough young gypsy boy to rein himself in.
Then suddenly the balance of power changed. Mark had taken all the beating he could and he bent his leg, pressed his boot against Jason's chest, and twisted him over onto his back. He knelt astride him, their positions reversed. The fireman's fists were still flailing wildly so Mark grabbed his wrists, forced them back and pinned them to the ground above his head. Their faces were now close and they gazed at each other wild-eyed, bodies heaving. "Asshole," Jason yelled. "I'll kill you, mother fucker. I gotta go back, gotta save her ... I'll fucking kill you, man ... I'll ..."
His words were stifled by Mark clamping his mouth over his and grinding their lips together in a savage, passionate kiss, forcing his tongue deep inside Jason's mouth. Mark was acting on raw impulse now, using any means to control his agonized friend. Jason's biceps bulged as he struggled to free himself, trying desperately to force Mark's hands up off the ground, to twist his head aside and escape the mouth grinding against his. But he was trapped and his body weakened.
He slowly became conscious of the warm lips pressing against his. It was the taste that brought him to his senses, a taste he knew, and instinctively he relaxed his mouth, stopped struggling and returned the kiss, finding refuge from his storm in the taste and scent of a man he knew – a man he loved.
Mark felt him relax, pulled back and gazed into the troubled eyes. "It's me, Jason ... Mark. I'm here, buddy. Take a deep breath and let me help you." Jason's expression changed from anger to despair as his delirium cleared and he saw the real world – in all its darkness. He felt Mark's strength, pinning him to the ground, and welcomed his captivity, willingly abandoning himself to the control of his friend.
"Help me, man," he pleaded. "I'm losing it ... I'm a fucking wimp ... I need your strength man ...please, I ..."
He broke off in confusion but Mark instinctively knew just what the fireman needed. He let go Jason's wrists, eased himself back between his legs, ripped open his fireman's pants and pulled them down below his ass. He gazed deep into Jason's eyes, into his dirt-streaked glorious face, and his cock got rock-hard in his pants. He yanked them open, pulled out his stiff rod and pulled Jason's legs over his shoulders. Again his eyes pierced Jason's and he said, "You don't get it, buddy. You're no wimp – you're a fucking hero, a real tough alpha stud and I'll show you just how tough ... like this..."
"Aaagh..." The scream rang round the garden and the two boys watching gripped each other's hand in awe as they saw the shirtless cop slam his cock hard into the fireman's ass, making his body convulse, his head jerk back and his mouth open in a scream. Jamie and Ben had been scared and aroused by the sight of the two superb blond muscle-gods in a savage trial of strength, the cop and fireman, both shirtless. Now the boys felt their cocks go from stiff to hard-as-steel in their shorts as they watched the cop's rod pierce the fireman's ass.
"Yeah," Jason yelled, "fuck me, man ... fuck my ass ... do it hard ... hurt me ... punish me ... I need it man, real bad." Mark became a machine, his cock a jackhammer as he took Jason at his word. He knew that Jason needed this, an overpowering sensation to drive the agony and guilt from his mind. And so he fucked him savagely, mercilessly as the fireman screamed, all other thoughts and memories shattered, every fiber of his being consumed by the incredible sensation of being brutally fucked by this spectacular cop.
Their superb muscles flexed and strained, gleaming with sweat as Jason was impaled on Mark's rod pistoning inside his ravaged ass. "You feel that, stud?" Mark yelled "Take's a real man to ride this cop's big club. You want more, man? You want it harder?"
"Yeah!" Jason howled, staring wild-eyed up at Mark. "Hard ... do it hard ... I want it to hurt ... I wanna feel the pain. Is that all you got, officer?"
Mark rose to the challenge and now it became a contest between two wild stallions, one savaging the other. Mark fell forward and again pinned Jason's wrists to the ground. He rose up off his knees onto his feet so his taut body arched over his victim, poised for maximum impact. From high up his hips fell forward and his iron rode plunged into the hot depths of Jason's ass, pulled all the way back, then drove in again.
The boys gripped each other's hands harder as they watched the cop rise and fall over the screaming fireman, his wrists and ass pinned to the ground. The spectacle was pornographically erotic and the boys impulsively pulled their cocks from their shorts and stroked them hard, knowing that the climax was close.
There was no way either Mark or Jason could take much more of this, and yet Jason still clenched his jaw and stared defiantly up at Mark, refusing to give up, proving his strength and his manhood that he had so recently scorned. Mark sensed all this and knew it was he who was beaten. His cock was on fire, about to explode inside the ass that he could not conquer. He stared down at the flawless body, the sculpted muscles, the beautiful face and he was lost.
Mark felt his cock pulsing and he yelled, "OK, man, you win. I can't take anymore. You are so fucking hot, I gotta cum. Please, I gotta bust my load. You win ... I submit ... I submit to you, sir ...aaagh!...." Mark's body jerked, his head flew back and his cock erupted in the fiery cauldron of the fireman's ass. Having won the sexual trial of strength Jason now let go and, with a final scream, blasted ribbons of cum over his chest and into his face, streaking it with a mix of semen, sweat and dirt.
The boys could hardly believe what they had just witnessed – the cop and the fireman, stripped to the waist, with the cop taking a savage gut punching, but then turning the tables so the fireman was begging to get his ass fucked. The fuck had been brutal but the fireman endured the onslaught and, incredibly, it was the cop who finally begged for release, who submitted to the fireman pinned to the ground. That was when Jamie and Ben gave in too, pounding their cocks and blasting cum that arched high and splashed on the ground at their feet.
Mark smiled down at Jason. "You are one hot, macho stud, Jason. Few men could have taken the pounding I gave you and end up making me submit to you. Man, I am so proud to call you friend." He fell forward and held Jason in a tight embrace, kissing him passionately. Jason responded for a while, but then turned his head to one side and his mind seemed to wander.
"You should have seen her face pleading with me, buddy, heard her screams for help. But I let her go. If only I had held on longer, pulled harder. With a bit more strength I could have moved that table pulled her free, but when I saw the roof about to collapse I chickened out. I abandoned her to save my own life."
Mark simply held Jason in his arms and let him talk. As a cop who had witnessed so much loss he was familiar with the so-called five stages of grief and this was a classic. At first, in his delirium, Jason had denied that he had failed, struggling to go back and save the woman, thinking she was still calling for him. Then came the anger – anger at himself – and Jason had found an outlet for his rage, illogically, on his best friend, pounding him mindlessly.
Now here he was bargaining – `if only he had ... what if he had?...' So Mark let that run its course until Jason slumped against him. Mark knew full well what came next – depression – and he braced for it. "You know what you need now," he said cheerily. Jason looked at him expectantly. "You need a shower, man. You're a fucking mess." He stood up and pulled Jason to his feet. Jason looked up at the sky, took a deep breath and stretched. Jamie came quietly up to Mark and asked, "Are you OK, sir? That gut-punching thing was..."
"Nah, I'm fine," Mark interrupted. "But there's still a ways to go with Jason. He was totally wrecked by the trauma of losing that woman. Now I want you to keep Ben away from this for a while until I've spoken to Steve again. Being with his master like this will be a shock for the boy and Jason might be feeling that he's no longer worthy to have a boy – not man enough. So stay in the kitchen, clean things up and make a few snacks and maybe some tea for later. I'll try to get Jason to sleep a bit. I'm glad you're here, kiddo. Just the rock solid boy I need."
A short while later a hot shower was doing more for Jason's physical well-being than anything else could. At least it was washing away the physical signs of the incident, the dirt and sweat – even the semen – and the acrid smell of smoke. Jason relaxed under the jets of hot water and the tender touch of Mark who was rubbing soap over his body, gently massaging his tired muscles and stroking his sore ass. Mark knelt down and ran his hands over the muscled thighs. He looked up through the steam and said, "I'm kneeling at the feet of a hero, buddy, and it's an honor. God, standing there naked with water pouring off that spectacular body you look fucking gorgeous. I've told you that before, I know but ..."
He leaned forward and ran his tongue up the length of Jason's cock. He took it into his mouth and felt it stiffen. He eased it down his throat several times but then pulled back. Sure he could bring him to orgasm but he knew that cuming again so soon might provoke a post-orgasm depression that would make things worse. So he stood up and kissed Jason under the hot water. When they separated Jason smiled at him. "Thanks, buddy. I don't think I could make it without you."
After they dried off and pulled on boxer shorts, Mark phoned Jamie in the kitchen and the boys soon came in with sandwiches and hot tea. Mark caught the gaze that passed briefly between Jason and Ben, nervous and uncertain on the part of the boy, and confusion in Jason who quickly looked away and said nothing. Mark flashed a glance at Jamie who put his arm round Ben's shoulder and quietly led him from the room.
After they had eaten, and drunk the soothing tea, Jason was overcome with fatigue – not the frenzied kind as before, but calmer this time – almost too calm, Mark thought seeing the bleakness in Jason's eyes. As before, when he was sure Jason was sleeping peacefully, Mark went to the adjoining room to check in with Steve. He described in detail what had taken place between him and Jason and Steve said, "Yeah, I think you're right about the stages of grief, Mark. I'm usually suspicious of pat formulas like that but this time it seems to fit."
There was a silence as Steve chewed it over. "You've been great, Mark, doing the heavy lifting to get Jason over his immediate shock and anger, but the depression part's gonna be a bit harder. I suspect from what you've said that it is rooted in Jason's intense sense of failure, the feeling that he's not the man he was, that his masculinity's been shredded and he's no longer that dominant lifesaving stud. His reaction to Ben, or rather his non-reaction, indicates that he doesn't feel man enough to be the master of a boy. No use telling Jason he's a hero, he won't believe it – he let the woman die.
"So that's what we have to work on, Mark – give a boost to his masculinity – and it's time for my intervention. I'll come right over and work something out on the way." He chuckled. "But you know me well, buddy. My methods are far from conventional, so be prepared."
Mark's next call was to Bob, asking if he could spare the twins to come over and cook dinner, as Jason had eaten little all day. Bob readily agreed and the news came as a relief to Jamie and Ben who didn't feel up to cooking the full meal that Jason needed. The twins came within a few minutes, and When Steve arrived he went first to the kitchen and talked to the four boys, explaining the situation exactly, holding nothing back and making sure they were OK. He sensed Ben's nervousness and confusion but he reassured him that things would turn out fine.
Next he spoke briefly to Mark. "I've been thinking, buddy. Jason's a tough son-of-a-bitch but his one weakness is his vanity, and that's what we'll go for. So stand by."
He then went in to see Jason, who was awake by now, feeling refreshed but still despondent. Steve's take on his mood and feelings had been dead right. He talked to Jason mostly in general terms, not offering any solutions but gaining his confidence, and he eventually brought him to the point where he trusted Steve to use whatever methods he thought would help him.
Steve took a deep breath and hoped that what he was about to do would work. He called Mark into the bedroom and then, surprisingly, summoned Jamie, Ben and the twins. They all looked up to the handsome therapist, a refined version of his brother Randy. Several of them had already benefitted from his unconventional methods, often involving sex. Ben especially, Steve's kid brother as well as Randy's, recalled his first therapy session with him where Steve had worked on his sexual inhibitions, seducing him into a sex marathon.
"OK, guys," Steve said, "I'm not gonna explain my methods here, you'll just have to take me on trust. Jason, I know everything that happened earlier with you and Mark, how you fought, then asked him to fuck you. But I'm not sure that's what you wanted or what you needed. Tell me – and be honest – what was the hottest thing for you – what finally made you blow your wad?"
Jason blushed slightly, admitting this before them all, even the boys, but he said, "It was hearing Mark submit to me. He was pounding my ass like a pile-driver but I wouldn't give up – I wanted to show him I was still a tough guy – and he ended up begging me for release."
"Exactly," Steve said. "And that is precisely why you're gonna do what I tell you next. See, Mark's not only your buddy – he's a cop, a gorgeous muscle-stud cop – commanding , respected, the ultimate macho top man, as Jamie can attest, several times a day, eh Jamie? But Jason, you are just as tough, just as much an alpha top-man, and you're gonna prove it. You're gonna fuck this dominant cop in the ass while we all watch – and this time you'll make him submit while you're on top."
There was a stunned silence as all eyes focused on the fireman, sitting on the bed naked except for his boxers. His body language signaled a refusal as he shrugged and said, "I dunno, man, I can't see how..."
"Hey," Mark cut in, "you turning this down, buddy?" He dropped his shorts, stood naked under the overhead spotlight and spread his arms to the sides, flexing his muscles that gleamed under the light. His long cock swung between his muscled thighs and they all watched in awe as it slowly stiffened, got harder and harder until it stood out like a pole from the tangle of blond pubic hair. "See, that, man? A fucking gorgeous macho cop, a top man, a fuck machine. Takes a real stud to top him ... think you're man enough, sergeant – you think you're hot enough?"
It was an obvious challenge and spoke directly to Jason's vanity. Jason sprang to his feet and pulled Mark over to the full-length mirror. Standing side by side they looked at their own reflections and Jason said scathingly, "Hot enough? You don't think I'm hot enough? Look at this, man." He dropped his shorts and raised his arms in a bodybuilder pose. As he gazed at his magnificent naked body his cock swelled and was soon as hard as Mark's. "Now that's hot, man – no one else comes close."
"You don't think so?" Mark said and copied Jason's pose. Steve and the boys were treated to a spectacular pose-off between the two naked, blond muscle-gods. It was erotic to the point of pornographic, better than anything the boys had seen in muscle magazines or videos, and there wasn't a limp dick in the room. "Yeah," Jason growled, "get a good look at yourself, officer, cause that cop's gonna feel a fireman's cock drilling his ass."
Jason grabbed Mark and whirled him around so he fell on his back on the bed. "OK," Jason said, "we might as well pull out all the stops here, go all the way." He reached under the bed and pulled out some lengths of rope that he used in sex games with Ben. He worked efficiently and in a few minutes he and the others were staring down at a stunning sight. The naked cop was spread-eagled on the bed, arms and legs stretched to the four corners, wrists and ankles tied to the bedposts.
Mark gazed up at Jason and tested his restraints, tugging at the ropes, his arms and legs straining as he writhed on the bed, his muscles flexing and gleaming under the lights, his rugged face contorted with effort, blond hair flying. It was a spectacular display and soon there came two gasps from the corner of the room. The twins were blushing – they had stroked the tight bulge in their shorts and shot a load of cum that was now running down their legs.
But, undistracted, the fireman still gazed down at the naked, muscular cop who was bound and totally at his mercy. Mark growled in defiance, "OK, asshole, so you've tied me down. What you gonna do to me?" Jason leapt onto the bed and knelt astride Mark's waist in gloating triumph. "I'm gonna show you who's boss here. Sure you're the big stud cop they all worship, but not me, man. I already made you submit while you were fucking me, but now you're gonna submit again and beg me to let you shoot your load. Here's what it feels like when a fireman subdues a cop and work's him over."
Jason leaned forward, clamped his fingers onto Mark's nipples and twisted them hard. "Aaaagh!" Mark's head flew back and he flexed his pecs hard to withstand the pain that speared through it. Jason jeered, "That's it, man, let me hear you scream. See how much you can take of this tit-torture. See how long it takes before you give up."
"Go fuck yourself, asshole," Mark groaned between screams as his body thrashed on the bed, pulling against the ropes in a futile attempt to escape the pain. To the boys he looked like a naked Greek god tied to a cross, his perfect body tortured by another muscle-god displaying the superior strength of his sculpted physique. Steve looked over at the distress on Jamie's face but he nodded and smiled, reassuring him that everything was going to plan.
Mark had stopped struggling and now lay still flexing hard to absorb the pain, staring defiantly up at Jason. "You know you're not gonna make me submit to you like that, man. I'm a cop – we're tough. I can take anything you can throw at me, asshole."
In frustration Jason leapt off the bed and glared down at him, "That so, eh? We'll see about that. He turned and walked to the mirror, seeking strength in his vanity. Again he flexed and admired himself, talking as much to himself as to Mark. "Look at that, man. No one can resist that, not even you. It's so fucking hot and just the sight of it is gonna make you give up, man."
He turned back to the bed and growled at Mark. "Man, you are one tough son-of-a-bitch. I could whip that body, gut-punch those abs, split you ass wide open. But there's another way I can top you, man, make you surrender to me. And not even you can withstand that."
Jason grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under the small of Mark's back, raising his ass off the bed. He had deliberately left some slack in the ropes tying his ankles and now he slid Mark's feet up the bed toward his ass as far as the ropes would allow. With Mark's knees now slightly bent Jason had a clear view of his ass – exposed, vulnerable. "Oh, yeah, look at the cop's ass," he gloated. "It's mine, officer – all mine."
He knelt on the bed between Mark's legs leaned forward, grabbed his waist and pulled his mid-section up so his torso was straining backward against the ropes, his ass level with the fireman's rod pointing straight at it. "This is it, man. No one can resist this." He eased his hips forward, pressed the head of his cock into the blond fur round the cop's ass and ... Aaah." Both men sighed as the long shaft pushed slowly and inexorably down the warm, soft chute and came to rest in the depths of his ass.
"You feel that, officer? You feel this gorgeous fireman's dick in your ass?" Look at me, man, look at my face, at my body while I fuck you." He began a long, slow sensuous massaging of the velvet membrane of Mark's ass, gazing into his eyes, mesmerizing him. With the ass firmly impaled on his cock Jason pulled his hands from Mark's waist, fell forward and clamped them round Mark's biceps, pinning them to the bed. Their faces were now a foot apart and they could see their reflection in each other's soft blue eyes. Jason was smiling now and said quietly, "Tell me, man. Tell me how it feels."
Trapped by the fireman's strong grip, helpless beneath him, feeling his rod moving in and out of his ass, Mark groaned, "You're fucking gorgeous, man. That incredible body, beautiful face ... you're like a fucking god, man ... and you're fucking my ass. Shit, I love you, man. You are such a stud, a fucking hero, and I'd give you anything ... my ass, my submission ... anything to feel that dick inside me and watch you fucking me."
The boys watched in awe, the cop tied naked to the bed, offering his ass to the muscular fireman pinning his arms, rising and falling over him. They knew now that Jason truly was a top man that no other man could resist. He was supreme.
Jason's voice became hypnotic as his eyes pierced Mark's. "I know what you want, Mark, but you have to ask for it, beg for it, before I will give you release. Let me hear you, Mark, let me hear you submit to me, to the master who is taking your ass. You know you have to."
"Yes," Mark moaned, "I can't take anymore. You are such a fucking stud, you're driving me wild ... my balls are bursting ... I gotta cum, gotta bust my load, man. God, I want to feel your juice pouring into my ass. Please, sir, please let me shoot. Please, I'm begging you. You win, sergeant, you've beaten the cop. I surrender to you ... I submit, sir ... I submit..."
Jason smiled in triumph, pulled his cock all the way back, paused, then plunged it savagely one last time all the way down to the inner sphincter and over it so that his cum gushed into the deepest chamber of the cop's ass. Mark's body shook, convulsed, he writhed in bondage and screamed ... "Aaagh!." His cock exploded, pumping ribbons of cum up onto Jason's chest and face. It was still for a moment, then blasted more semen over himself.
Their cocks were still draining when Mark became aware of five men standing by the bed, drawn there by the incredible sight of the cop submitting to the fireman, begging him for release. Steve and the boys were all stroking their cocks, and suddenly five simultaneous orgasms erupted – rivers of cum pouring down on the two muscle-gods, a tribute to their erotic display of rugged manhood.
Through the veil of semen Mark caught sight of Steve smiling down at him and nodding – Mark had played his part well. But in truth he had not been playing a part. Every sensation Mark had felt, every word he had spoken, had been absolutely real. Jason had been magnificent.
In a few minutes Mark and Jason hit the shower again while the boys went back to the kitchen to put the finishing touches to the food that had been simmering slowly. Dinner turned out to be a fairly muted affair, as it was hard to find words to follow the extraordinary event they had just lived through. Jason especially seemed to draw back into himself, wrapped in his own thoughts, still grappling with his inner demons.
With Mark's help Jason had conquered his denial and anger, and under Steve's direction had proven to himself that he really was the dominant stud he had always believed himself to be before the trauma of the fire. It had been a feat of real virile sexuality to overwhelm the powerful, rugged cop into begging for release and humbling himself in total submission. But that had been a pubic exhibition of Jason's manhood. Inside he still heard the private, critical voice telling him he had failed, that far from being the hero people were calling him, he was still something less than a man.
When Jason got up and went to the bathroom Steve used the opportunity to quickly explain these issues to Mark and the boys. They looked at him expectantly, waiting for a solution. His methods, strange as they were, had worked up to now. So what came next? Steve looked from one to the other and his gaze settled on Ben.
"The public spectacle is over," he said. "It's the private, intimate part now and that's where you come in Ben. If Jason can regain the certainty that he is man enough to have a boy, to deserve a boy, to be the object of worship to a boy, then he's well on the road to recovery. This will be his first full night after the fire drama and he should spend it with his boy in his arms." Many doubts and questions flew to Ben's mind but just then Jason came back to the table.
Steve once again took the lead. "OK, guys, I gotta get home and I suggest you all do the same. Jason, normally Ben would stay the night with you, right?"
"Well, yeah, I guess, but..."
"Good, then tonight should be no different. Get back to your normal life and routine. Boys, why don't you clear away the dinner and we'll leave Jason and Ben alone together?" They hurried to do as he asked and Steve went home, leaving Jason alone with Mark. Jason grabbed Mark and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Thank you, Mark. I don't know what I've done to deserve a buddy like you. You're an incredible guy. I love you, man."
At about the same time Ben was alone in the garden on the phone. "I'm scared, sir," he was saying to Randy. "I don't know what to do." Bob had been filling Randy in on the events of the day and now Ben had told him of Steve's latest request. The boy was nervous and turned naturally to the man he trusted most in his life. "I mean, Jason is so different now and I'm not sure he even likes me anymore. Steve says maybe Jason doesn't think he deserves a boy anymore, so I'm scared, sir."
Randy's voice was firm but gentle. "Now listen kiddo. What Jason has been through is real tough. Mark always says that the worst thing for a cop or fireman is to lose someone who's begging him to save them. So Jason's mind is really fucked up. But I tell you this, kid. When a man is in trouble the place for his boy to be is by his side. It's up to you now, boy, and I know you can pull this off. You're my tough little brother, dammit, and we guys can do whatever it takes. Our brother Steve has done his part and now it's your turn."
Randy's voice softened. "Listen kid, you love the guy and I'm damn sure he's crazy about you. That's really all it takes ... just be yourself and love him. Go for it, kiddo. Make me proud of you."
Ben shut off the phone and took a deep breath. As always Randy had given him strength and courage, and he was determined to make him proud. Just then Mark and the boys came out of the house. "We're off," said Jamie. "Take good care of him, Ben." He hugged him, followed by the twins. Mark, surprisingly, shook Ben's hand firmly, man to man. "He needs you now more than anyone, Ben, and I know you can do it. Shit, Randy and his brothers can do anything."
After they left there was a sudden silence and Ben stood alone in the darkness. He looked up at Jason's window and the light was still on. He braced himself, marched to the house and went straight into the bedroom. Jason was lying on the bed in just his boxers, with his back to Ben. The boy cleared his throat to get his attention and Jason turned over to face him.
"Listen, Ben, I'll be straight with you. I don't think a guy like me should have a boy. I don't deserve one, and I don't think I can give you what you want." Ben stood his ground without a word. "God dammit it, what do you want from me, boy?"
Randy's words echoed in Ben's mind – "Just be yourself and love him. Make me proud..." He cleared his throat again and his voice was firm. "I want you to love me, sir. I want you to let me be your boy and love you back."
"After what I did? You still want me after that? I'm a fucking coward."
"No, sir!" Ben said defiantly. "You're a hero ... you're my hero. After what you did today I'm prouder than ever to be your boy – if you still want me. ..." His voice faltered. "I love you so much, sir. I worship you. Please don't send me away."
Jason looked at the brave young gypsy boy, standing so straight, his fists clenched, trying to be tough and hold back the tears brimming in his eyes. And suddenly Jason was swept with a love deeper than he had ever felt. It was the love of a man for a boy – the love of a rugged male, a master, for his boy. And suddenly he felt whole. The boy needed him, he needed a strong man, a master, a man he could look up to ... and Jason knew now that he was still that man.
"Take your clothes off, boy." His heart surging Ben quickly obeyed and stood naked before his master. "God, you are so beautiful, Ben. Come here." Still lying on the bed he held his arms wide and Ben fell into them. Jason folded them round him and held him tight against him, burying his face into Ben's neck.
And then Jason began to weep. Tears streamed down his face and onto Ben's neck, uncontrollable tears, his body shaking, racked with heaving sobs. The floodgates had opened and this was the catharsis he needed, with his boy wrapped in his arms. Tears poured from him until at last his passion was spent. Ben pulled his head back and licked the tears from his master's cheeks. He kissed his forehead, his eyes and his lips, still holding onto him tight.
For all the heroic efforts of Mark and the wisdom of Steve in easing Jason's tortured soul, finally it was the simple love of his boy that had enabled Jason to conquer his demons once and for all. "Thank you for not giving up on me, Ben," he said softly. "You're the finest boy a man could have. I love you kiddo. I know you want me to fuck your sweet ass, and I want it too. But right now, would it be OK with you if we just go to sleep, with you asleep in my arms all night?"
"Of course, sir. I dream of that often. I want to give you whatever you want, sir. I'm your boy."
What was it Randy had said? `When a man is in trouble the place for his boy to be is by his side.' And here Ben was, by his side, in his arms. Randy would have been proud.
On the ride back to the house with Mark, Jamie's cell phone rang. The excited voice at the other end said, "Jamie, mi scusi, amico, for calling so late but another waiter has just traded shifts with me and I have two days off. I have to come to L.A. for some – come se dice – some errands, yes? and I would love to drop by to see you. I know you are very busy with your work, but ..."
"Hang on a second, Mario" said Jamie excitedly. He checked with Mark who grinned and said, "Sure, tell him he can stay a couple of nights if he wants to." Jamie gave Mario the good news and they promised to touch base next morning. Jamie's eyes were shining as he looked up at Mark. "Thank you, sir. Wow, I wonder how he'll react when he sees all the guys."
Mark chuckled. "What I wanna to see is how the guys react to him. A hot young Italian in the mix should really stir things up. I can't wait.
TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 189
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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