A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 193 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER:

The leather-bar crowd lusts after Bob and a resentful Randy savagely proves his "ownership" of his man. "The Superman they had drooled over was humbled before them, hanging from the wall in degrading submission." Bob leaves Randy forever. Later Bob gazes at himself in the mirror. "Man, you are one gorgeous alpha-male – not a guy to get pushed around. No man is ever gonna humiliate you ... ever again."

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - Chapter 193 – "Bob and Randy Split Up"

"Ed-dee, Ed-dee, Ed-dee!" The men crowding into the back room of the leather bar chanted the boy's name while Hassan held Eddie's hand high in the air like a victorious boxer. "Gentlemen," Hassan shouted, "This is my boy – my hero and yours."

The iconic Marine and his boy had staged a spectacular show for the men in Mike's bar – a fantasy where Eddie was a street-boy captured by a rugged Marine. He had been tied up, his white tank ripped off, and the Marine had whipped him and forced him to beg to get fucked. Finally the boy had surrendered and as his cock erupted in a massive orgasm he yelled, "I submit! I'll be your boy, sir. Please, I submit to you, sir. Please let me be your boy."

As a sign of ownership Hassan had cum in the boy's face and the crowd went wild. After the audience filed out Mike helped Hassan and Eddie clean up. "Shit, guys," he grinned, "that was fucking spectacular. Those guys will be jacking off to the memory of that for years. Next time bring those Aussies with you, especially the stud from the Sydney leather bars."

As they drove back in Hassan's jeep to his small house in the desert the two of them were still flying high. "You were awesome, kiddo," Hassan said. "Man, what a fantasy – and in front of all those guys. Now all that's over I'm gonna make love to you properly – no fantasy, just the real thing, until you fall asleep in my arms. And hey, like Mike said, how about we call up your pal Nate and Adam, see if they can come and join us? Adam in leather will be a big hit."

"That all sounds great, sir," Eddie said, exhaustion creeping into his voice – "especially that bit about sleeping in your arms." But within seconds he was already asleep, his head resting on Hassan's shoulder, and a smile spread over his face as he began to dream.

In fact, Hassan did not get to keep his promise of making gentle love to him – not that night, at least. When they reached the remote house Eddie was still in a deep sleep so Hassan carried him into the bedroom and laid him gently on the bed. He pulled off his sneakers and his jeans and stood looking at his beautiful boy, lying naked, fast asleep with a soft smile on his face. God, he loved the boy – and his cock got hard in his fatigue pants.

Hassan stripped naked and stroked his cock. He was longing to fuck the boy again but he knew that Eddie needed the benefit of sleep. Yesterday he had been at the mercy of Thor, the thug who would have brutally worked him over if Randy had not rescued him in a savage fight where Eddie had played his part by smashing Thor with a chair until Randy could finish him off. Then, today, they had fucked several times right up to the stunning climax in the bar.

So Hassan let he boy sleep, but the sight of him turned Hassan on so much he had to cum. Standing by the bed he gazed down at Eddie and stroked his cock until it shot ribbons of creamy juice that splashed down on the boy's chest. Eddie stirred in his sleep and his smile widened as his dreams grew more vivid. Hassan, eased himself onto the bed beside him and folded him in his arms. So Eddie got his wish of sleeping all night in his master's arms.

As houseboy, Eddie was used to getting up early and the habit died hard, even out here in the desert. He slid out of bed, leaving Hassan in a deep sleep, and set about preparing breakfast. For weeks he had watched and learned from the twins in the kitchen, the master chefs, and he had packed for this trip accordingly. The result was a tray loaded with an elaborate mixed-vegetable omelettte, smoked salmon, toast, juice and coffee. Hassan was stirring when Eddie, wearing just his old shorts, presented himself in the bedroom.

"Hmm," Hassan said, with bleary eyes. "Food looks tasty but the chef looks even tastier. Look at this, boy." He pushed the sheet back and his morning hard-on shot straight up out of the tangle of curly black pubic hair. "I was dying to fuck you last night, kid, but you fell asleep on me, and now I'm super horny. So guess what, kiddo, before you eat breakfast you're gonna eat me."

"Best thing on the menu, sir," Eddie grinned cheekily. He covered the hot dishes, put the tray on a side table and knelt between the Marine's spread legs. He leaned forward, braced himself with his hands on the bed, and lowered his head. The huge shaft glided easily inside the boy's mouth and deep down his throat until it came to rest. Eddie swallowed hard so his throat muscles squeezed the head of the soldier's cock. "Oh, shit." Hassan moaned, that is fucking incredible ... keep doing it, kid."

Eddie pulled his head back, pursed his lips and rubbed them back and forth over the hard rim of the head, making his master writhe with pleasure. Hassan pushed his hips up and groaned, "Again, boy, take it deep again." Eddie obeyed, burying his face in the soldier's damp pubic hair. Hassan had not showered since all the sexual activity of the day before, so his crotch stunk of man-sweat and semen. It was the same odor Eddie had once smelled on the film set, crowded in a tent with Marine's stinking of sweat, and he now reeled with sensory overload.

Once again the head of the cock was buried deep in Eddie's throat, filling it, and he determined to make Hassan cum like that. So, as before, he swallowed hard, squeezing the cock in the muscles of his throat. Long experience had taught him how not to choke, and his gulps now came in quick succession, squeezing the cock rhythmically – working it without even moving his head. He was driving Hassan crazy. "Fuck, what are you doing to me, boy? That feels so fucking great ... man, you're not even sucking my cock but you're still gonna make me ... I can't take it, boy ... you're making me...Aaagh"

Now Eddie almost choked as he felt hot liquid pouring down his throat and he gulped desperately to avoid drowning in cum. The Marine's muscular body was bucking on the bed and his hands closed over the boys head, pressing it down on his cock as it drained in his throat. Suddenly he yanked the head back all the way up off his cock and Eddie was gasping, tears flowing down his cheeks and jism dribbling from the corners of his mouth.

"Shit damn, boy, that was incredible. You've never blown me like that – fucking awesome. Trouble is it was so damn hot it made me shoot too soon. Look at this fucking boner – I need to cum again – and make you shoot too. So fuck me, boy."

Eddie stared at him in confusion, blinked and said, "Excuse me, sir?"

"You heard, boy. I don't wanna get up, so fuck me while I lie here - fuck my ass – make me cum. That's an order." He drew his feet back toward him on the bed and raised up his hips displaying his ass. Eddie was still coming to grips with Hassan's demand. Fuck his master?! He had assumed that he would always play the role of the bottom boy whose ass got pounded by the Marine – often several times a day. So it was a huge leap to reverse roles and ... "I said that's an order, boy!"

Eddie looked down at the rugged soldier and the thought of pushing his cock in his ass made him hard as a rock. He eased forward between the bent legs and pressed his cock against the warm, moist hole. But he hesitated – intimidated by the whole idea. Hassan's voice now had a hint of anger as he shouted. "What the fuck's the matter, boy? I said – `fuck – my – ass! What – are you my boy or not?"

That challenge made Eddie's adrenaline surge. He stared down at the exotic chiseled features and the blazing eyes, took a deep breath ... and slammed his cock into his master's ass. "Aaagh...!" The Marine's huge body bucked, his head reared back, and his arms flew upward on the bed. He looked magnificent – and Eddie was inside him! His inhibitions vanished – he fell forward and pressed his hands over the flexed biceps, pinning the soldier to the bed.

"Yeah, that's my boy," Hassan groaned. "Show me what a stud you are." Eddie felt the same blaze of energy as when he had attacked Thor ... the shy houseboy transformed into a dominant young buck. He had sucked cock many times, had his ass ploughed often, but had rarely fucked anyone. But now all the action was in his cock, which was on fire. Hassan gazed in awe at the transformation as he gazed up at the wild look in his boy's eyes and felt the cock pull back out of his ass then plunge in again.

Getting fucked was a novel experience for Hassan, especially by a boy, but he soon got caught up in the rhythm of Eddie's cock driving into him. It felt hugely erotic, but the real turn-on was watching his boy become a man, losing all his deference and shyness, grabbing the reins of manhood and riding his ass. Eddie took on a different kind of beauty – not the innocent, urchin cuteness of youth but the dominant look of an alpha stud taking charge.

He was in a whole new world, hammering the ass of the big Marine, and it wasn't long before he said, "I'm close, man," (losing the `sir'). The heat of his master's ass was driving him crazy and his cock had become a piston. "Here it comes, man ... Now!" Hassan felt the eruption of cum flood his ass, with all the abundance of youth, and it took only a few strokes of his own cock to blast his own juice up onto Eddie leaning over him.

As Eddie's orgasm ended and his heartbeat subsided, the adrenaline drained from him and he came back to earth – suddenly nervous about what had happened. "I'm sorry, sir," he stammered. "I don't know why I said ... I mean I kinda lost control and ..."

"Did you like it, kiddo?" Eddie's eyes sparkled. "Yes, sir. It was awesome, sir, but ..."

Hassan pulled him down on top of him. "No buts, kiddo, no apologies. What you did was natural for a boy who's becoming a man. First you help Randy beat up that thug, then you fuck a Marine. That's my goal for you Eddie. You're my boy and I'm gonna help you grow into manhood ... that's a promise." He gave a lascivious grin. "Besides, now you know how one Marine wakes up another who won't get out of bed. I've seen it often."

Just then Hassan's cell phone rang and he grinned when he answered. "Sure I meant it – we'll have a blast. Of course bring your leather – give `em something to drool over. What? That's terrific. We'll all meet at the bar then – they're having a beer-bust this afternoon – and then take it from there. Perfect." He shut off his phone and smiled at Eddie. "That was Adam – I left a message for him last night while you were asleep. He's coming out here with Nate. Mike wanted to meet the Aussies so we'll give him two of the best."

"But that's not all. Seems that Bob is on his way out to Palm Springs to visit a big client of his firm – sort out some kind of problem. Should take most of the day but when he's done he'll meet us at the bar. Of course, where Bob goes Randy goes to keep an eye on him, so he's coming out too. Looks like a full house so we better lay in some supplies and get this place cleaned up. Don't want it still stinking of jism when they get here."

Eddie smiled his urchin smile. "Oh, I don't think those guys'll mind, sir – they're used to it."

It was late afternoon and the bar was already crowded, as the beer-bust was very popular, with its $2 draft beer and a great DJ. The patio out back was especially boisterous, lit by the setting sun, and inside the bar was dark as usual, lit by overhead spots. Suddenly the noise level went down and all eyes turned to the door, where two men had just come in, evidently a leather-master and his boy.

Jaws dropped as they looked over the tall, handsome guy with close cut dark hair and chiseled features. He was wearing boots, leather chaps over his jeans, and a black leather vest that hung open over his chest. His perfectly muscled physique under the vest was stunning – sculpted chest, six-pack abs, broad shoulders and bulging biceps. Next to him his boy – youthfully handsome with a lithe young body – wore leather pants, boots and a black tank top.

"Don't tell me," came the jovial voice from behind the bar. "Before you even open your mouth let me guess – the Aussies, right?" Adam strode forward and shook Mike's hand. "Too right, mate. The name's Adam and this is my boy Nate – works with Eddie."

"Man, you guys just don't quit do you? How many hunks are there in that house of yours anyway? Hassan called and tipped me off you were coming – Randy too and that man of his we've heard so much about but never seen – Bob."

The noise level picked up but now there was only one topic of conversation – the two Aussies. The bar patrons gradually lost their inhibitions and crowded round them, gazing at Adam like he was something from another planet – or at least the other side of this one.

Mike slid a couple of beers across the bar. "Shit, you guys should have seen the show Eddie and that muscle-stud Marine of his put on here last night. Floor's still slick from all the jizz these guys here poured over it, couple a loads each. What a fucking sight!" He winked. "Maybe we could persuade you to show us how horny Aussie leathermen play."

"Why not?" came a deep voice from the doorway. "Hey, the boss man!" Mike yelled. "Randy my boy, you're looking as hot and nasty as ever." He came out from behind the bar and hugged the construction worker, who had evidently come straight from work judging by the ragged, sweaty tank stretched over his chest and the dirt-streaked jeans and muddy boots.

"Hey, man," Mike said, handing him a beer, you've been sharing some of the goodies from that man cave of yours in the city, letting them loose to come out and play – Hassan and Eddie, now Adam and his gorgeous boy here, and soon even the elusive Bob, I hear."

"Yeah, man." Randy grinned, pleased by Mike's portrayal of him as the big boss who controls the lives of the men in his care. "This isn't Bob's usual kind of hangout. Matter of fact we don't usually go out together in crowds like this so I'm not sure how he'll take it. But he'll have me to lean on – as always. I take care of him." If Mike detected a note of arrogance in Randy's attitude it only added to the macho mystique of the guy. Bob must be a very compliant bottom, he thought, if he accepted this kind of dominance from Randy.

But Mike's assessment of Bob was soon proved to be wide of the mark. Even as he spoke a sleek top-of-the-line Mercedes was purring into the parking lot alongside the motorbikes and trucks of the leather crowd. There were several guys milling around and all heads turned as Bob got out of his car. After his business meeting he had changed clothes, but only into his usual casual gear of smart blue-jeans, boots and a fresh white V-neck T-shirt that accentuated his stunning musculature. He made no concessions to the leather culture at all. Bob was Bob.

Felling very much out of place he looked over at the gawking men in their beat-up leather and grubby Levis. But, never easily intimidated, he gave them a dazzling smile that created instant hard-ons in their leather pants. He walked into the bar and stopped, letting his eyes get used to the darkness after the gleam of the setting sun outside. His mind flashed on the long-ago time when he had stepped off a sun-soaked Hollywood Boulevard into the gloom of a hole-in-the-wall bar and had become slowly aware of the construction worker at the bar.

And this time too, there he was, the same swarthy construction worker at the bar, talking to the bartender. There had recently been a few electric moments in the bar as spectacular guys had come through that door – first the Marine Hassan and his boy, and then the Aussie Adam and Nate. But the sight of the guy in the doorway now, with the face and body of Superman, brought the raucous crowd to a standstill. They gazed in disbelief as Bob smiled suddenly, and they parted for him as he strode toward the bar into Randy's welcoming embrace.

"Holy shit," Mike groaned. "Holy fucking shit." The two men separated and Randy grinned, "Mike, this is my man, Bob." Bob flashed another smile and shook Mike's hand warmly. "Hey, Mike, good to meet you at last and put a face to the voice that I relied on so much during the Eddie drama. Man, we have a lot to thank you for."

Damn," Mike said, still dazzled, "you walking through that door was all the thanks I need. You know, I often tried to imagine the kind of guy who would be special enough make Randy, the big loner, fall in love, but I didn't even come close. Shit, man, you are fucking gorgeous!"

Suddenly Randy was not the center of attention, and he reclaimed it by shouting, "Hey, guys – this here is my man – every gorgeous inch of him." There was an eruption of applause and wolf-whistles as Randy grabbed Bob's wrist and raised his arm high. But Bob blushed and pulled his arm away. He hated the idea of being put on display in this boorish way and was relieved when guys crowded round to talk to him.

Bob was instantly the focus of the room. It wasn't only his stunning good looks and flawless body. It was his natural warmth and modesty that shone through ... he looked like Superman, but with the diffidence of a mild-mannered Clark Kent. Even the way he was dressed was a turn-on. Most of the guys in the bar, in their leather or rugged denim outfits, had all dressed for effect. It was a pose, a performance to create the most striking macho image they could.

But Bob had made no such effort. He didn't have to – it was the man himself who oozed masculinity out of every pore. In his plain and simple jeans and T-shirt, an almost preppy look, the effect he made was, in its subtle way, far more macho than anything this clamorous crowd could create. His affability soon put them at ease and in their own way they all fell in love with him, or in lust at least, as most men did who met Bob.

As the men crowded round him Bob's sudden popularity was not lost on Randy who was reduced to watching from the sidelines. They had never been in this kind of setting before, with a crowd of lusty men, and Randy saw for the first time the magnetic effect Bob had on groups like this. They had spent most of their time together, in the private confines of the house, and Randy had naturally always thought of Bob as his guy – exclusively.

But now here he was, the big boss, eclipsed by Bob as the center of interest. It wasn't exactly jealousy that Randy felt but a need to show this crowd that he was the master and Bob was his man. His insecurity was rising up and he needed to ... what? ... to re-establish ownership in front of them all.

First, Randy needed a distraction to pull their focus away. "Hey, guys," he yelled, "what about that show the Aussies were gonna put on for you – let you see what leathermen and their boys get up to in Sydney?" There were howls of encouragement from the crowd and all eyes turned to Adam. In the excitement of Bob's appearance Hassan and Eddie had finally arrived and, after an effusive greeting for Adam and Nate, the four of them were deep in conversation.

But suddenly Randy's shout had turned the focus on them and Hassan grinned at Adam. "Why not, buddy? Let Nate show you off a bit ... can't let Eddie have all the action." Nate looked expectantly at Adam who grinned, somewhat reluctantly. "OK, mate, as they're all clamoring for it and you obviously want it, kiddo – but nothing elaborate, OK?" So without any fanfare they pushed their way through the crowd, which followed them into the back room with its red spotlights and equipment hanging on the walls.

While Mike and Randy kept the spectators in the shadows against the wall Adam stood in the middle of the room under the central spotlight. In his leather chaps and the black vest hanging open over his chest he looked spectacular, with his handsome square-jawed face and his gym-honed muscles, and there was applause and wolf-whistles from the crowd. He held his arms out to the side and said in his thick accent, "OK, mates, this Aussie is horny as hell and wants to get his cock sucked. Any takers?" There was a chorus of good natured offers – every man of them would love the honor of sucking off this gorgeous leather-hunk.

But it was Nate who stepped forward and faced him. "Ah, a boy! You think you can take my big tool down your throat, kid?" Nate nodded eagerly and Adam reached forward and pulled Nate's black tank-top off him to reveal the lithe muscles of his young body. Adam turned him round to face the crowd, and asked them, "What d'ya say, guys? Think he's up to it?"

More whoops and hollers from the crowd and Adam stroked his jaw. "Hmm, let's give it a try, then." He pulled off his vest, and gave it to Nate who draped it over a chair. Adam paced the room, causing gasps from the crowd. He looked pornographically beautiful, stripped to the waist with leather chaps over his jeans. After perusing the leather equipment on the wall he pulled down a couple of items – a pair of leather restraints that he used to fasten Nate's wrists behind his back, and a black leather collar that he fastened round his boy's neck.

Nate looked up at him, his eyes shining, and saw the hint of a smile on his face. Adam flexed his muscles and said, "Right, boy, look at this. You wanna eat this hot leatherman's cock?" Nate forgot the spectators and saw only his spectacular master. "Yes, sir ... please, sir." Slowly he dropped to his knees before Adam, his face level with the bulge under his jeans, framed and accentuated by the edge of the black chaps.

Nate leaned forward and rubbed his face against the bulge. Searching with his tongue he found the tag of the zip and pulled it down with his teeth. He pushed his face into the open crotch and closed his mouth over the cock inside. He pulled it out, leaned back and gazed at the rigid shaft pointing straight at him. His excitement was shared by the awestruck spectators, most of them already stroking their dicks. As he had done so often before Nate leaned forward, closed his mouth over the head of Adam's cock and let it slide deep down his throat.

"Yeah, you little cocksucker," Adam groaned, "eat that meat, boy." He reached down with one hand, grabbed the back of Nate's head and pulled his face into his wiry pubic hair, then yanked it back and forth, driving his rod ever deeper inside the boy. He raised his free arm high in the air like a cowboy riding a bucking stallion. He looked spectacular, the muscles of his shirtless torso rippling and gleaming under the red spot, the young leather boy, a collar round his neck, gagging on the long shaft that pistoned into his throat.

Suddenly Adam pulled the face off his cock and stared down at the panting boy, spit dribbling down his chin. "You had enough, boy?" Nate gulped. "No, sir, please sir, I want more." And so it continued – the rugged Aussie leatherman pounding his boy's face, urged on by the cheers of the onlookers and their gasps as they busted their loads.

Adam was so turned on by their reactions and the sensation of his boy's hot mouth that he couldn't hold back. "I'm cumming," he yelled... "here it is, boy – drink it!" He yanked the head forward one last time and Nate tasted the bitter-sweet jism pouring down his throat. He swallowed hard, and then, abruptly, Adam pulled out his cock, held it in front of the boy and slammed more cum into his face.

Nate leaned back, with cum smothering his face, running out of his mouth, down his chin and onto his chest. "Thank you, sir," he yelled. He pulled against the restraints behind his back, his body flexed, his cock rose up and blasted cum high in the air, splashing down on his master's boots. There were raucous cheers as the spectators gazed at the erotic sight of the young leather-boy on his knees, wrists bound, shirtless, collar round his neck, tears on his face mingling with his master's cum.

"You gonna do something about that, boy?" Adam growled, looking down at his boots. "Yes, sir," Nate said, leaning down, hands still tied behind him. He pressed his face on the boots, slurping up the cum and swallowing it, licking hard until the boots were clean. Many of the men chose this moment to shoot their loads, and their jubilant shouts echoed round the room.

Adam pulled Nate to his feet, grabbed his head and pulled his face forward, locking their mouths together and sucking his own cum out of Nate's mouth. He reached behind Nate, untied his wrists and Nate flung his arms round him. Finally Adam pulled away, draped his arm over Nate's shoulder and, facing the crowd, stretched his other arm out with a flourish in acknowledgement of their applause. The Aussies were a definite hit.

As the spectators trickled out of the room Randy looked around for Bob – but he wasn't there. Bob was not big on public displays of sex ever since, soon after he and Randy met, they had put on a spectacular S&M show for a group of wealthy men, as they needed the money at the time. They had been very well paid, but after that Bob preferred that their sex be private, or at least kept within the confines of the house, shared only with the men and boys of their group.

So he had stayed in the main bar, along with a group of men who wanted to see and hear more of the gorgeous newcomer. In conversation Bob had come across a guy who also worked in finance and they discovered they had a lot in common. They sat at a table swapping stories, and a rapt group of guys followed their conversation avidly.

When Randy came out of the back room he stopped and stared at them. The guy was a bit older than Bob, but very handsome, with iron gray hair, and he, like Bob, was simply dressed in jeans and T-shirt. He and Bob were obviously getting along well, talking and laughing, with the rest of the crowd unable to take their eyes off Bob.

Randy – the boss, the King of the Gypsies – had only one insecurity ... his irrational fear that Bob would one day leave him for someone else. His fears were based on the stark difference between them – Bob with his urbane charm, privileged background and college education, and Randy the rugged laborer and street-fighter, raised in hard-scrabble West Texas.

Randy felt especially threatened by men who shared Bob's background and, whenever threatened, his only weapon was his fists. He had often used them on Bob in the early months of their relationship to prove his dominance over him, and on other guys he saw as a threat, like Mark, the Greek-god cop, and Lloyd, the degrees-up-the-ass architect as he called him.

And now this ... this handsome guy with the professional poise, the kind of guy Bob would go for – and they were in intense conversation, laughing together while the growing crowd of men watched and listened. This, on top of the reception Bob had received as soon as he walked in. There wasn't a man there who would not want sex with Bob, to have a relationship with him ... to take him away from Randy as Randy thought in his crazed insecurity and – worse – his mounting anger. No, he had to show all these guys, especially the gray-haired asshole, that Bob belonged to him. And there was only one way to do that.

He strode across the room, shoving guys roughly aside, until he towered over Bob. Bob looked up with a smile that faded as soon as he saw the familiar blaze in Randy's eyes. "Hey, buddy," Bob said, "I want you to meet this guy I've been talking to. His name's..."

"Yeah right," Randy growled, cutting him off and glaring down at his companion who was completely taken aback. "You enjoying my buddy, eh?" His voice rose. "All of you, turned on by this fucking gorgeous man here? Can't say I blame you. Thing is though, he's my man, see. He's mine ... and I don't loan him out. Any guy who wants him has to come through me, and that wouldn't be pretty. Hey buddy, how about we show them, eh? Time for us to put on a show of our own, I think."

Randy had been drinking a lot and Bob knew he had to placate him. "Oh, I don't think these guys want another show, buddy." Mike stepped forward. "He's right, Randy, let's get back to the beer-bust ..." he laughed ... "hell, I'm losing money here."

"Stay out of this, Mike," Randy growled ominously. He grabbed Bob's T-shirt and pulled him to his feet. Bob knew the only way to prevent a scene was to give into Randy for now, so he allowed himself to be propelled into the back room with the now stunned crowd following them. Randy looked round the room and saw what he needed. "Perfect". He pushed Bob roughly against the wall, facing it. Hanging from the wall above him were ropes with wrist restraints. Randy pushed Bob's arms up and expertly buckled the shackles round his wrists.

Randy was hitting his stride now, enjoying himself as he said to the silent crowd. "Now guys I'm gonna show you my most prized possession ... and I do mean possession." In one swift move he grabbed Bob's jeans and yanked them and his shorts down over his ass. The spectators gasped as they saw the muscle-god's perfect ass naked. "See," Randy gloated, "I'm the only guy who gets to use this ... and I'll show you how."

He ripped open his jeans and pulled out his massive cock that caused more gasps from the shadows. "That gorgeous ass – my big hunk of prime beef – match made in heaven. Here goes." Bob was glad his face was to the wall so he couldn't see Randy, but he knew what came next. Usually it would have excited him – but here, in public, in front of all these strangers ... "aaagh!" His thoughts were cut off and his scream echoed round the room as he felt the brutal shaft plunge deep in his gut.

There was no finesse with Randy, especially now he was proving that he was the master, that he owned this spectacular man. This time it was all anger. He pulled back and plunged in again, then again, and instantly he was a merciless fuck machine, driving his shaft deep inside the man's ass, getting off on his agonized screams that were bouncing off the walls.

Mike took a step forward to cut this off but Hassan restrained him. He and Adam had seen Randy like this before ... they had both been at the receiving end of his anger, and they knew that any intervention would have caused a brawl where Randy would have torn the place apart. Anyway, nobody ever intervened in Bob and Randy's relationship no matter how bad it got.

By now Randy's cock was a pile driver and Bob was pulling frantically at the ropes above him, his biceps bulging below the sleeves of his T-shirt. He had taken an ass pummeling like this from Randy before, but now there was the added pain of being watched by a crowd of men in a public humiliation. Those men were watching in silence, with a mix of fear, fascination, and lust.

As in the past Bob knew how to end the pain. He had to beg. "You're killing me, man – I can't take any more," he yelled. "Let me hear you beg," Randy shouted as he hammered him. "OK, I'm begging you, sir. Please, I give up. Please, sir, cum in my ass. I submit to you, sir. Please, you're my master ... I submit ... aaagh!" He felt his own cock explode against the wall and, as his ass muscles contracted round Randy's cock, the big man howled in triumph and shot his load deep inside Bob's ravaged body.

There was a deathly silence, broken only by their heavy breathing. Randy had expected cheers from the spectators for his display of domination over this beautiful man. True, it was an erotic leather fantasy to imagine one hot muscular alpha stud get his ass ploughed by another. But this was not that ... it was something different entirely. Everyone knew it had not been mutual – the pain caused by one man was not welcome to the other. And the gorgeous man they had drooled over, this Superman with his easy-going charm, had been humbled before them all, hanging from the wall, submitting in degradation to the wild-man, begging him to cum in his ass.

Hassan and Adam broke from the crowd and crossed to the wall. Hassan pulled Randy away from Bob who groaned as the cock slid out of his ass. Adam reached up and freed his hands and Bob slumped against him for support. Mike wasn't quite sure what had happened here but it was his bar and he felt responsible. He helped Adam pull up Bob's jeans and guide him to a door that led straight into Mike's office. Nate and Eddie followed them in and closed the door behind them. The boys were shell-shocked and held on to each other. They did not understand the cause of all this, but they had a strong sense that something really bad had happened.

In the privacy of this room, away from the crowd, Bob made an effort to resume his poise and gently brushed aside the offers of help. "Wow," he grinned, wiping tears from his cheeks, "some show, eh? But I gotta go, now, Mike. Thank you again for everything you did for Eddie and I promise to drop by when I'm next in the Springs Er, is there a back way out of here?"

"Sure, this other door leads right out to the parking lot. You sure you're OK to drive, buddy?" Bob grinned. "Oh yeah ... that Mercedes practically drives itself." He shook Mike's hand and smiled at Adam and the boys. "Take it easy, guys." As he got to the door he turned and said, "Hey, Mike, don't go too hard on Randy, eh?" And he was gone.

Mercifully there was no-one in the parking lot – everyone was still inside chewing over the extraordinary events of the evening. So Bob slid thankfully into the soft leather of his car and drove quietly away, unobserved.

Inside the bar, Hassan brought Randy into the office and Randy looked at them in surprise. "Where's Bob?" Mike said simply. "He left." Randy clenched his fists. "The hell he did," and moved to the door but Hassan grabbed him and threw him into a chair. "No. You're not gonna follow him. You're not going anywhere except to my house with me in my jeep. Adam will bring the boys. We'll leave your truck here for the night, OK Mike?" Mike nodded, "Sure thing."

When Hassan took charge he swung into his role as Marine captain and defied any contradiction. Randy was quietly compliant, which was not really surprising at a time like this. His anger was so all-consuming that when it drained from him there was nothing left, and he sat there looking around him bewildered. The fact was that there were two Randys – the take-charge, impressive big-boss Randy and the out-of-control, rage-filled Randy – two sides of the same coin. As Hassan led him to the door Randy looked back at Mike, vaguely expecting his support. But Mike looked him hard in the eyes.

"Randy, I never thought I'd hear myself say this – but you're an asshole."

Bob was feeling numb as he drove out of Palm Springs along the dark sweep of Highway 111 and he was surprised to see rain on the windshield obscuring his view. He turned on the windshield-wipers but that didn't help. Then he realized, it was not rain running down the windshield... tears were streaming from his eyes. He turned off the wipers, wiped his eyes and burst out laughing at his mistake. But he realized the laughter bordered on hysteria and he took a few deep breaths. He had to get a grip. So he did what he sometimes did when driving alone – he talked to himself.

Still shaken by what had happened he said, "It's no good – I can't do this anymore. I thought all this was over – Randy's insecurity about me, acting like a caveman to make sure I don't leave. How many times has he beat me up, then begged for forgiveness and swore it would never happen again? What? I can't get admired by a bunch of guys in a bar and talk to someone I like without him chaining me to the wall and fucking the shit out of me in front of everyone – just to prove he owns me. Owns me?!!"

He looked at himself in the rear-view mirror. "Jesus, man, what the fuck have you become – a guy who's the property of another and allows himself to get beaten up. Owns me?!! Look at yourself, Bob. You're a successful business executive, a senior vice-president of a big company where everyone respects and admires you. At the house the men look up to you and the boys worship you. Shit, when you walked into that bar they all looked at you like you were walking on water because you're totally fucking gorgeous. And this is the man Randy owns?!! The man he beats up, makes him beg, degrades him in a bar full of strangers? You're better than this, man. You gotta get away from him."

His mind wandered over the last few days. "And yet, when he took a beating in a fight the guy he needed most, the guy he longed for was me. And when he came home we had wild sex that totally turned him around. It was so good ... I was so in love. He made me promise never to leave him and I said how could I leave the most exciting man earth? But I've got to, Randy. I can't go on with this cycle of adoration and abuse. I've got to be my own man – regain my manhood – and I can't do that living with you, buddy – I just can't."

Once again the rain started flowing down the windshield and he chuckled – but no hysteria this time. He wiped his eyes, breathed deeply and murmured, "OK, one day at a time, Bob. What happens next? You need to be alone, time to think, and you should pamper yourself."

He pressed a button on his phone and called the Beverly Hills Hotel. His company used the hotel often for prestigious out-of-town clients and he knew the manager. He booked himself into one of the bungalows there where he would have complete privacy. A few days receiving deferential "sirs" in a luxury hotel might compensate for his own degrading use of the word in the back room of that bar.

"There," he said to himself, shutting off the phone. "That's a start anyway. The start of the rest of my life, as they say. New life – new me." And the tears welled up again.

At the hotel the warmth and courtesy of the staff's welcome went someway to compensate for the trauma of the last few hours – made him feel civilized. He had put on his suit jacket over his torn T-shirt to make himself presentable, though Bob was the kind of man who would get respect no matter what he wore, even if he showed up in Speedos. Especially in Speedos.

The luxury of his hotel bungalow was an absolute contrast to the dark leather bar he had left behind. But he was still in the same contemplative mood as before. In the car he had talked to himself looking into the rear-view mirror but now he stood before a full length mirror on the wall. He shrugged off the jacket and found himself looking at a stunningly handsome muscle-god in jeans and T-shirt, not quite so preppy now that the shirt was torn. Perhaps there was still a sliver of hysteria left in him, or hallucination at least. Whatever it was, it dispelled all his inhibitions and once again he tried to boost his shattered ego by talking to himself.

"Shit, man, that is fucking gorgeous – one big stud alpha-male – not the kind of guy who gets pushed around. Let's see that body, man ... take off the shirt." He pulled the shirt off over his head and flexed his muscles in a bodybuilder pose. "Oh yeah, now that is fucking hot, man – fucking awesome." He stroked his nipples, then squeezed them and felt his cock growing hard in his pants. "Wow," he breathed and slid his belt from his jeans. "You're the master, big guy. Men beg you to whip them. Come on, see that guy there? Show him who's boss."

Bob raised the belt and curled it round his back, again and again, getting off on whipping the handsome guy in the mirror, proving his dominance, watching him flinch, while feeling the lash on his own back. "OK, man," he ordered his victim, "strip naked." The man obeyed, kicking off his boots and pulling down his jeans and shorts. Bob gazed at the naked bodybuilder in awe. "Shit, that is one gorgeous fucking hunk – any guy would fall in love with that."

He walked forward, pressed his body against his mirror image and kissed it, wiping his lips over the glass against the other man's lips, their stiff cocks pressed together against the glass. He broke away and stepped back. "Hell, you are so fucking beautiful you could make any man kneel to you. Come on, stud, this is an order. Kneel!" The naked man in the mirror fell to his knees obediently and began to stroke his cock.

"Man, imagine doing this in that bar. The guys would have gone hog wild drooling over you. Come on, man, let's give them a show. Let me see you shoot that load. Hell, I love watching those muscles flex. That's so fucking beautiful it's gonna make them all cum – hear that? ... they're all busting their loads, man. Look at me, big guy, look at that spectacular alpha stud. He owns you, man, he's making you cum ... you have to ... here it comes, man, aaagh!"

Ribbons of juice spurted high in the air and splashed on the mirror, pouring down the man's reflection, his body heaving as cum blasted out of him. Bob got to his feet and gazed at himself – buck naked, muscles rippling, cum dripping from his cock. He grinned. "Now that is one hell of a man. He is the best. No-one is ever gonna humiliate him ... ever again."

The next day the other guys all drove home to L.A. in a convoy of three cars that, in its somber mood, resembled a line of cars driving to a funeral. The previous night Randy, fortunately, had been in a state of denial. The full impact of what was happening hadn't hit so he created no new upheaval. While he slept Hassan called Mark and explained the whole thing, while Nate called Jamie – who told Darius ... so it was all over the house by morning.

They arrived back early and Randy, without a word, went straight to work. His usual remedy in times of stress was physical labor, and he pushed himself and the crew hard all day. Hassan, Mark and the other men huddled gloomily and speculated on the ramifications. "So what do you think, Hassan?" Mark asked. "Stuff like this has happened before but you saw it all go down out there. How bad do you think it is?"

"Pretty bad," Hassan said and Adam agreed. "After that I really can't imagine Bob coming back any time soon. I know Randy can be rough but this time it was in public – he humiliated Bob in front of all those guys. Bob can't bounce back from that. I have a bad feeling that this time it might be the end of the road for them – the end of their story."

Mark clenched his fists. "God I wish I knew where Bob was. The only guys who do are the twins. I know Bob called them and asked them to bring some clothes to him, but of course they're sworn to secrecy and we have to respect that. Bob called Jamie too to make sure everything was running OK in the office, but he didn't tell Jamie where he was. He obviously needs time alone to think things out. Shit damn, I could murder Randy for what he did to Bob."

The day passed in a pall of gloom and everyone was on tenterhooks for when Randy came home. Actually no-one saw him when he did come in as he went straight up to the office, expecting Bob to be there. Randy's initial anger had abated but it was replaced by fear, which was even worse. Like a cornered animal he came out fighting. "OK, boy," he barked at Jamie, "has Bob called you?"

"Yes, sir," Jamie said timidly. "So where is he?" "He didn't tell me, sir." Randy exploded, "What? He called and didn't say where he is? You're lying to me, boy." He grabbed Jamie by his T-shirt and pushed him hard against the wall. "Now you know what I do to a boy who defies me," he shouted. Jamie pleaded, "I swear to you, sir – I don't know, sir. Please don't hurt me." Randy raised his fist but a hand grabbed his wrist and whirled him round. He saw the fist coming a split second before it landed and he crashed to the floor, gazing up at the cop.

Mark's eyes were blazing. "You even come near my boy again, asshole, and I swear I'll fucking rip your balls off." Randy tried to get up but Mark smashed his hand against his face again, sending him sprawling. Mark was protecting his boy, sure, but more than that, he was taking revenge for Bob, the man he had always loved from the beginning. He was about to haul Randy up again when Zack burst in and pulled Mark off him.

"Come on guys, this won't solve anything," he said sternly, holding Mark back. "Randy, it's better you make yourself scarce. I'll poke around and see if I can locate Bob." Zack was Randy's second in command and they were the most alike of any of the guys, both tough construction workers. So Randy grudgingly did as Zack said and left the room.

Pablo and Ben had a lot at stake in this as his adopted son and his young brother. They were both fiercely loyal to Randy no matter what he did, and they talked together for a long time in hushed tones. Finally Ben said, "I gotta go to Jason. I'm his boy so he'll tell me what to do. I'm a bit scared of seeing my big brother right now, but can you try?" Pablo grinned, "Sure, kid, I'll go to him. Randy don't scare me none."

Ben left and Pablo went to the foot of the stairs leading to Randy's master suite. He squared his shoulders, went upstairs and knocked softly on the door. No reply. He turned the handle and walked in. Randy was lying face down on the bed, his shoulders heaving. He was sobbing. Pablo went straight to him and crawled onto the bed beside him. Randy turned over ... and folded Pablo in his arms.

"At least I've got you, kiddo, you and Ben. I don't need anyone else, least of all that guy. I'm better off without him. Me and him – never were a good match. You know, he's the only guy who ever made me nervous. I always knew I was never good enough for him and now he's gone. He's probably with that guy from the bar – they were real into each other. Well screw him. From now on it'll be just the three of us – you, me and my little brother."

His words died and Pablo held him tighter. "Sir ... would you like to fuck me, sir?" Randy looked at him with affection. "Sure I would kiddo, and I'll prove that I can be real gentle when I fuck – if I really love the guy. You're my rock, kiddo." And so he made love to Pablo tenderly, and slept the night with his arms round him, drowning his sorrows in the certain knowledge that Pablo, at least, would never desert him.

Bob was pacing the floor of his luxurious bungalow on the grounds of the Beverly Hills Hotel when there was a knock on the door. He looked through the door's peephole to make sure who it was. He knew how determined Randy could be and he was scared it might be him. But he smiled and opened the door and the twins came in, each carrying a suitcase.

"We brought everything you asked for, sir," said Kevin. "And a few more things we thought you might need," added Kyle. "Wow this is quite a place," Kevin said staring around, both of the boys carefully avoiding the obvious subject. Bob smiled at their tactfulness. "You know what?" he said, "I suddenly realize I'm starved – haven't eaten all day. So let's make the most of this fancy hotel and order dinner from room service. Here, take a look at the menu and order whatever you want. God it's good to see you guys," and he held them both tight in his arms.

They unpacked Bob's clothes and then room service came, wheeling in a table loaded with food. They ate by the window with a view of lush banana plants and blazing red bougainvillea. Then Bob got down to business. "OK, guys, let's talk. First of all, does anyone know I'm here?" The twins gazed at him and said in turn, "No, sir. We haven't told a soul, like you said."

"Good, cause I really don't wanna talk to anyone about this until I've made a few decisions. I'll call Mark soon, `cause I know he'll worry, but until then it's just the three of us, OK? And that's the way it may be for a long while. See, Randy did stuff that ... well, you know Randy, but this time it went really over the edge and I don't think ... I mean ... I really think it might be over for us. I've been running it over in my mind last night and all of today and ... well, I think I may be going back to San Francisco." They suddenly looked startled.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm taking you with me. See I can easily transfer to my company's Head Office up there. They've been trying to lure me back there to take up a real senior position – a great opportunity. So maybe all this has happened for a reason. But all that's in the future, and right now I need some love and affection. Do you guys think you can stay the night?"

The twins smiled at each other. "We were hoping you'd say that, sir," said Kevin. Kyle hesitated, then asked, "Does that mean you want to make love to us, sir?" Bob laughed. "Hell yes! What, you think we're gonna be share a bed without me fucking your sweet asses?"

And so it was that Bob and Randy spent the night seeking solace in the loving arms of their boys. They had rarely slept a night apart since they met, but now they tried hard to dismiss each other's image from their mind.

But, of course, they both failed.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 194

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.

ALSO, I urge you to visit my Web-site www.atrialofstrength.com. You can read the whole story, all the many chapters, with extras, including pictures and biographies of all the characters and some other great artwork. Click on the `Our Story' tab to read the current chapter, or click on the green button to browse all the chapter synopses. Enjoy!