A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 265 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER: Doctor Steve tries to stifle the lust he feels for his new patient Grady – but he is too beautiful to resist. "Steve stared in awe at the macho, square-jawed jock, the stunning underwear model from the billboard Steve had once jerked off to. And now here he was in the flesh, naked on his knees, his perfect physique flexing in anticipation as he pleaded, "OK, doc, you win ... what you gonna do to me?"

Chapter 265 – "Steve & Grady"

"What the fuck's going on with my brother Steve?" Randy demanded. "Word is that he's behaving like a fucking lunatic."

Randy and Bob were getting ready for bed when Randy broached the topic that had spread like wildfire around the house. Bob had a good idea what was going on after an earlier conversation with Steve's lover Lloyd ...

Lloyd had the best intentions when he had concocted a scheme for Doctor Steve to live his secret fantasy of having sex with a patient. Obviously it was something Steve could never act out – though Lloyd had other ideas.

"I have this buddy at the gym, Grady, who's drop dead gorgeous, but he has this libido problem – he's addicted to gorgeous men. Grady's an actor, career about to take off – he could easily be the big screen's newest sex symbol. But any hint of a scandal would stop his career dead in its tracks. So I'll arrange for him to get therapy from Doctor Steve and we'll see what happens. I think it's a win-win situation all round."

Bob was highly dubious about the idea, and warned Lloyd he was playing with fire. But his advice went unheeded and a few days later the patient, Grady, came into Steve's office – and rocked the doctor's world.

The man was spectacular, a flawlessly built body under his gym clothes, with what could only be described as movie-star looks. Golden tanned he glowed with health, his full lips framing a dazzling white-teeth smile. His features were square cut with prominent cheeks bones and a stubbled lantern jaw, and his black hair fell in a tousled mass over his forehead. His eyes were a remarkable pale green that danced with amusement and the confidence of a man who knows just how gorgeous he is.

But it wasn't just his physical beauty – it was his buoyant attitude. Oozing masculinity he was his own energy force-field with a strong self-awareness that smilingly welcomed others into his charmed world. When those green eyes looked at a man they made the guy feel like the most important man in the world.

Steve recalled one day last year driving along Sunset (the boulevard of extravagant billboards) when he saw a massive billboard for underwear showing a stunning model posing in nothing but a pair of black briefs, flexing his body in a bodybuilder pose. Steve had pulled over to the curb, shoved his hand down his pants and jerked off looking up at the giant homoerotic picture. The model had been Grady in his former days as an underwear model – and now here was that same man, smiling up at him from his couch, seeking his help.

From that moment on Steve was obsessed by the man. He managed to suppress his lust for a couple of days, mostly through hard core sex with Lloyd and then Jason, the two men whom Grady most resembled. Steve was transformed from the handsome, self-assured doctor into a wild eyed version of his gypsy brother Randy, a transformation that led to Randy's question to Bob – "What the fuck's going on with my brother Steve?"

Bob was silent and Randy demanded, "You know, don't you? You know what this is all about."

Bob frowned uneasily. "I have a feeling Steve's just not thinking too clearly right now. He and Lloyd are just going through some ... stuff, is all."

Randy huffed, "My brother Ben told me Steve came to Jason's house and fucked the shit out of the fireman, and he was rambling on about someone they'd never heard of." He glared at Bob. "Is there another man involved in this, someone who's fucking with my brother's head? ...

Bob winced, "Uh, I would just leave that for Steve to ..."

" ... 'Coz if there is I wanna know about it. Listen, anyone who injures one of my brothers, fucks with his mind or whatever, he answers to me."

"Randy, cool it. Your brother's a big boy and can take care of himself. Just don't get involved."

"Don't get involved?!" Randy roared. "Listen, asshole, Steve may be a bigshot shrink and all but I'm the head of that family and I take care of my brothers – always have, always will. Steve and Lloyd have got a good thing going there and I will personally deal with any mother-fucker who tries to mess it up – and that won't be pretty."

"Randy," Bob said soothingly, "like I said, stay out of it." Fat chance, Bob thought to himself as he watched Randy grit his teeth and clench his fists.

Steve slept that night clinging to Lloyd like he had the night before but his obsession wouldn't go away. Next day he was scheduled to work at his home office, where he saw patients every Tuesday and Friday. He called his Beverly Hills office early and spoke to his receptionist. "Hey Ruth, you're already there. Er, remember that patient who came in late the day before yesterday – name of Grady? Did he by chance make a follow-up appointment?"

"Yes, Steve, he did, on his way out. I told him it's normal to let a week go by but he said he wanted to see you as soon as possible." She chuckled. "Guess you worked the usual magic on him, doctor. Anyway as he lives in Laurel Canyon not far from you I told him you saw patients at your home on Friday and I could fit him in then – that's today actually. He's on the patient list I emailed you – three o'clock this afternoon, your last patient. I hope I did the right thing."

There was a long silence. "Er yeah, of course Ruth, that's fine. I'll be home alone all day, perfect for seeing patients. So thanks, Ruth – have a great weekend."

"You too, doctor." Steve put down the phone and murmured softly, "Damn, damn, damn."

Ordinarily it would have been a perfect day for seeing patients in his home office, but Steve was not in an ordinary frame of mind – far from it.

Lloyd had told him that he would be home late as he had to attend the Friday meeting of the construction company directors, Randy, Bob, Mark and Zack. "Could go on a long time depending on the mood of that brother of yours," Lloyd grinned. "Still I see you have a full slate of patients to keep you busy. Bob has asked us for dinner later – a chance for us to unwind."

Steve didn't mention that Grady would be one of those patients. It was an instinctive omission, which he later justified to himself with the rather flawed logic that he didn't name his other patients to Lloyd so why should he mention Grady? Besides, that was doctor/patient privilege. Never mind that Grady was Lloyd's gym buddy and had been referred by Lloyd in the first place.

So Lloyd drove off to the construction site leaving Steve alone. As he sat at his desk and pulled up the computer files of today's patients he found it hard to concentrate – except on one name on the list, the name that had obsessed him the last two days, the name that had stirred images he had masturbated to several times.

Even now he switched to Google Images and scrolled down the long list of pictures of the stunning underwear model, resisting with difficulty the temptation to pull out his cock and jerk off looking at them. He was saved by the bell, or rather the buzzer from the gate. His first patient.

Steve's office was on the side of the house with its own well-marked entrance, so patients knew to drive through the gate and walk round to the side entrance. Steve took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind so he could give his full attention to his patient.

To say it was a tough day would be an understatement. The flow of patients was smooth enough, and concentrating on their problems helped him, but as soon as each patient left his heart began to beat faster and his attention wandered – until the distraction of his next client.

By lunchtime he was a mess and was glad for the hour and a half break. He went to the bathroom to pee and as he stood there holding his cock his impulse was to jerk off to the image of Grady that was always in his mind. But again he resisted the temptation and went to the kitchen to fix himself a sandwich. He never touched alcohol until his workday ended – but this time was an exception and he opened a bottle of Chardonnay.

With food inside him and a slight buzz from a couple of glasses of wine he managed to relax more. He stretched out on a couch and lay on his back, hands behind his head, looking up at the ceiling.

He smiled wryly and murmured out loud, "Physician, heal thyself. Get a grip Steve, this is ludicrous – it's not you. You've got a great lover, great home, all the trimmings of success. You gonna throw it all away for some infatuation with an underwear model, that would last a couple weeks at most? Come on, man, you've treated hundreds of sexually compulsive guys – you know the drill – get rid of the triggers, lose the fantasies and concentrate on real life."

He closed his eyes and thought of his next patient, an older man who was losing his sexual potency – erectile dysfunction, almost no libido, ready to call it quits on a sex life. `Think of it as an opportunity to focus your energies on other aspects of life instead of chasing sex,' Steve would tell the patient. He grinned, "That goes for you too, asshole. Cut the crap, get on with your life. Grady is your patient ... Grady is your patient." It became a mantra – and it helped.

He jumped up, went to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He started at himself in the mirror. "You can do it big guy. You're in control, always have been. You're a doctor. So be a doctor and then go down and have dinner with the guys who all love and respect you."

He had two more patients, the older guy at 1:30, then Grady at 3pm. (`Grady is your patient'). The gate buzzer went and a few minutes later his session with the libido-less guy began. It went well, with Steve in full control and the patient very responsive. At the end the man shook his hand gratefully. "You're a terrific doctor, Steve. I hope that one day – many, many years from now – when you're in the same position as I, you'll be able to give yourself the same advice as you just gave me."

That helped too. `A terrific doctor'... giving advice ... and taking his own advice. He could do that ... he was doing that. The mantra – Grady is your patient. One last patient – then dinner.

A quarter to three. Grady would probably be late again like the last time. Steve was wearing Friday-casual clothes, jeans, loafers and a loose white dress shirt. He should change the shirt. He went to the bedroom and pulled out another – no, not that one – nor that... He went to the gym drawer and pulled out a favorite gray V-neck T-shirt that he knew flattered him (as if he needed flattering). He pulled it on and admired himself in the mirror. "Yeah, perfect."

Steve never stopped to think that he had just dressed to make himself as attractive as possible. Or if the thought did cross his mind he suppressed it immediately. He was ready, relaxed. He could handle this.

The buzzer sounded ... five to three ... he was early. Steve breathed deeply, said a cheery "Hi, Grady," into the intercom and buzzed open the gate. Steve was feeling good about himself as he went to the front door expecting to see Grady's car. But he had left it outside the gate and was walking down the long drive in that confident loping stride of his, his mop of unruly black hair blowing in the breeze.

He was wearing flip-flops, baggy cargo shorts, and a loose, faded black T-shirt, like stuff he had unthinkingly pulled from the pile of clean laundry. So casual – not flaunting himself, not trying to be sexy – not trying to be anything. He had no need. He already was ... everything.

As he came close he flashed that gleaming smile and his pale green eyes sparkled with pleasure. "Hey, doc!" Steve felt all his carefully constructed resolve drain from his body. He was helpless. His mantra was a joke.

Grady raised his arm and clamped his hand round Steve's in an upward handshake, then pulled him close in a shoulder bump and a macho embrace. "Damn it's good to see you again, dude," Grady said as their bodies pressed together, including their bulging crotches.

Grady looked down at the bulge in Steve's jeans "I guess you're pleased to see me too, eh, doc? Well back at ya, dude," he laughed grabbing his own crotch. "Like I said before, we're two of a kind."

Steve gulped and Grady pulled away and raised his hands in the air in a hands-off gesture. "Oops, sorry, doc. There I go again. Shit, I have to keep repeating to myself, `I'm his patient, I'm his patient', like a fucking mantra. But I promise, no hanky-panky this time, doc. That stupid thing I did last time..." He was referring to his first therapy visit when had impulsively kissed and hugged the doctor, a gesture Steve had momentarily welcomed but then broke away and said sternly that it was not permitted between doctor and patient.

"It's forgotten, Grady."

"Yeah, me too, doc." He looked up at the sun beating down from a cloudless sky, shielded his eyes and squinted. (Every small gesture like this seemed incredibly sexy to Steve.) "Shit damn it's hot ... look I'm sweating already." He raised his arm and sniffed the armpit of his T-shirt. (Longing to do that too, Steve's cock lurched.)

"You know, I haven't seen rain ever since I came out to L.A. When did it last rain here anyway, doc – twenty years or so ago?" He threw his head back and laughed. Not that you'll hear me complain. Hell when I used to do some of those swimwear shoots on the East Coast it was colder than a witch's tit. But out here in this heat I'd hang around pretty much buck naked while they set up the shot and not give it a thought." Steve imagined that a lot of the crew gave it more than a thought.

"Most of the time on a warm-weather shoot we'd ... oh-oh, there I go again, doc, shooting my mouth off. Always do that when I'm nervous. So zip it, Grady, or the doc'll think your some kinda air-head."

He ran his fingertips across his closed lips and twisted them at the corner like a key, his eyes sparkling. It was a gesture Steve had seen young Eddie do many times and it always made him smile. Now it was as if Eddie's mischievous sense of fun had imbued itself in this playful, stunningly beautiful man, and it did not detract one whit from his innate masculinity.

"Nervous, you say?" asked Steve as they walked toward the house. "Why would you be nervous about therapy? It's not brain surgery, you know."

"Oh yes it is, doc ... that's exactly what it is. And when you start digging around in there, there's no knowing what'll jump out."

They went into the house where Grady stopped dead and looked around. "Hey, great pad, dude. Awesome. Guess the shrink racket pays pretty good, uh? They tell me I'll be earning a bunch when this movie starts. Guess I'll be rich, but I don't think money's all that important really, do you?"

"You will when you have it, Grady."

"Yeah, but feelings are far more important. That's what life's all about, don't you think, doc?" His green eyes pierced Steve's and he went weak at the knees. "Shit, will you listen to me rambling on ... next thing I'll be breaking into song. I got a pretty good voice too ..."

"Grady," Steve smiled, "if we stand here much longer we'll use up all your fifty minutes discussing your singing voice and other trivia. Not that you don't have a great speaking voice. It's actually very sexy ..." Damn, he caught himself and said quickly, "So why don't we go into my office and begin the session."

"Lead on, doc. Right behind you..."

Steve enjoyed treating patients in his home office where the atmosphere was less formal and patients were usually more relaxed – except that this time it was the doctor who found it hard to relax. Grady sprawled on a couch and Steve sat in an armchair facing him. Steve stretched backward to get his clipboard from his desk and Grady smiled salaciously.

"What?" Steve said.

"Oh nothing," Grady grinned. "Just that when you stretch like that your muscles flex under that T-shirt, which is, by the way, one of the sexiest shirts I've ever seen. Oh shit. There I go again. Doc, you're the shrink. Can't you stop making me talk about you, `cos I know you don't like it – against the rules or something?"

"Well, let's get down to business. And by the way, it's Steve, not doc – remember?"

"Sure, Steve." Grady flashed his smile and Steve realized he should have kept it at doc. He had to stay on top of this, though he already felt his resolve weakening.

"Right, well what I usually find is that the only way to treat a problem like yours is to get right down to the root of it. So I want to examine your thoughts and impulses when you see an attractive man. For example, since we last met two days ago, have there been any more incidents at the gym where you felt compelled to approach a hot guy?"

"Hmm – not really, Steve."

"Outside the gym?"

"Nope – I haven't thought about other guys at all."

"Good, very good. So no masturbation while you fantasized?"

"Oh, I didn't say that," Grady smiled. "I've whacked off plenty."

"And what was the impulse?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, what was the image that made you ejaculate?"

"Oh that." Grady actually blushed. "I'd rather not talk about that."

Steve sighed. "It's common for patients to hesitate when we start probing, but you have to trust me, Grady. This is all strictly confidential so you can tell me everything. Believe me, at this point in my career, there's nothing can shock me. So what was your masturbatory image?"

Grady winced, hesitated, and said. "I can't tell you, doc ... `cos you told me not to."

Steve frowned. "I'm sorry ... I don't follow."

Grady jumped up and paced the room with his familiar pose of hands clasped behind his head. "This ain't gonna work, Steve. I shouldn't have come here – I almost didn't – I dialed your number to cancel then hung up before it rang. But when I got here, saw you come out of the house, I knew I was in the right place."

As Grady paced nervously Steve saw his muscles ripple under his loose clothes and tried to divert his thoughts to the question of how it is that a perfect body always looks perfect even when covered with baggy clothes. But when he saw the shape of Grady's rock hard cock under his shorts Steve was mesmerized.

Grady finally stopped pacing and threw himself back on the couch. He avoided eye contact at first, but then the pale green eyes looked steadily at Steve. "OK, doc, since you insist. I couldn't tell you who I beat off to `cos you told me not to talk about you. Yeah, of course, it's you I've been thinking about ever since I left you. That's why I paid no attention to other guys ... I was too busy jacking off over the image of you seared in my brain." He paused, trying to calm down.

"What made it worse was knowing that my feelings for you were not reciprocated. You made that clear last time when I came onto you and you pushed me away, telling me it was wrong and that I was just your patient, nothing else. It's so damned ironic. Most guys I come on to fall at my feet. Then I meet the one guy I really feel a connection to, a guy I'm crazy about, and that's the one man I can't have. I made a complete fool of myself telling you over and over how sexy you were, knowing all the time you didn't want to hear it."

Steve glimpsed tears in Grady's eyes as he went on. "OK, I know I've ruined it and you're gonna can me, end our therapy. But now that I've spilled my guts I might as well tell you the whole thing before you throw me out...

"Yeah, I've thought about you non-stop, fantasized about what might have happened last time when I kissed you and held you. I dreamed that you were hot for me too, you pushed me on the floor, ripped off my gym clothes looked down at me butt naked waiting for you. You stripped off your shirt and tie and I got to see that phenomenal body.

"You dropped to your knees, pushed my legs in the air and fucked me. I got to feel that huge cock inside my ass, to see that gorgeous body rising over me, and then to feel that hot stud's juice inside me. And that's when I busted a huge load.

"I imagined coming back the next day and we abandoned all pretense of therapy and got naked in seconds, rolling on the floor, you fucking me again and again until my fifty minutes were up. Huh," he laughed through his tears, "a fifty minute fuck. And I'd have given anything for just five minutes in your arms. And when I arrived today and saw you smiling at me in that gorgeous gray shirt that makes you look so fucking hot I thought for a second you'd put it on to look sexy for me. But I was wrong.

Grady stood up. "I'm sorry, Steve. I've made such a damn fool of myself and embarrassed you. You're a great guy – but I won't be bothering you again. Goodbye, doc."

He turned toward the door. Steve watched him go and willed himself to let him go, never to see him again. It was best to end it right now ... it was the best thing ... he would be free. Grady's hand was on the doorknob ...

"Grady..." He heard his own voice, saw Grady turn round, saw the moist green eyes. "You were right. I did put on this shirt just for you ... so I would look hot for you. Everything you described – the endless thoughts, the fantasies, the masturbation ... it was the same for me too ... all of it. You're one of the most beautiful men I've ever seen. And I want you.

They stared at each other in silence, feeling a passion rising within them of an intensity they had rarely felt before. They walked forward slowly, eyes locked on each other. When they were close they reached forward and pulled each other's shirt off over the head. "Man," Steve murmured, running his hands over the contours of the athlete's impeccably sculpted chest and abs. "Even more beautiful than I could imagine."

Their mouths came together in a wild, churning kiss. The devoured each other, tongues probing hungrily, hands running over each other's face and through the hair. They pulled the other's head back by the hair and licked the face, the cheeks, the eyes ...

Grady pulled away and stared into the sparkling blue eyes of the man he hungered for. "God, Steve, I've wanted this since the first second we met. That face ... that body ..." He licked Steve's neck, then ran his tongue down the cleft between his pecs and bent down to trace the ridges of his abs with his tongue. Gripping Steve's slim waist he fell to his knees and clamped his mouth over the bulging denim of his jeans, sucking in the warmth of his shuddering cock.

He eased back and ripped open Steve's jeans, reached inside the shorts and pulled out the huge, thick rod, hard as steel. "Holy shit, that is fucking gorgeous." He pulled the jeans down over Steve's balls and licked them ravenously. He buried his face in the damp wiry mass of pubic hair, inhaling deeply, tasting, smelling the male essence of the man. He licked the iron shaft all the way up, sucked in the pre-cum oozing from the head, then gazed up at Steve.

"I gotta have this, man. I gotta have this rod in my mouth, in my ass. I wanna make love to it. He clamped his mouth over Steve's cock, slammed his face forward and, incredibly, swallowed the whole massive club down his throat without gagging once. He pulled all the way off, gazed at it, then swallowed it again.

Steve gazed down in disbelief at the sight of this macho, square-jawed jock, the stunning model on the billboard he had jerked off to ... and here he was, on his knees, sucking his cock, tears running down his cheeks, groaning in ecstasy. Steve grabbed his dark, curly hair and pulled his face forward, again and again, down onto his bulging cock that strained for release. He was power-fucking his face, this spectacular man – charming, funny, alive, charismatic – and totally fucking gorgeous.

Steve was stripped of free-will ... all he saw, all he felt, was Grady ... he was in thrall to him ... he couldn't hold back, didn't want to. His balls were bursting and suddenly he heard himself scream, "No ... not yet ... not yet ... I ... aaagh!!" His cock exploded and he felt Grady's throat muscles clenching as he gulped down Steve's juice. Angry with himself for cumming too soon Steve pulled out and his cock erupted again, slamming hot jizz into the beautiful face staring wildly up at him.

He had never seen anything more beautiful. The once proud, arrogant face of the billboard underwear model was gazing up at him, stubbled jaw sagging open, come oozing over his lips and running down his chin and neck. His face too streamed with cum – over his forehead, over his eyes, his cheeks, mingling with his tears, matted in his tangled hair.

Steve howled, "You are so fucking gorgeous," and sank to his knees. He fell forward on Grady and pushed him on his back on the floor. He stared down at the semen-covered face and breathed, "Man, I gotta have you – everything – all of it." He licked the cum from Grady's face, from his eyes, his cheeks, then closed his mouth over Grady's, sucking the cum out of it, sharing it, drowning in it.

In an instant they were rolling together over the floor, bodies grinding together, groping, grabbing, feeling every contour of the other's muscular body. Frantically they pulled at each other's pants, eager to be naked. Grady got up on his knees, shoved Steve over onto his stomach, pulled Steve's jeans down over his feet and flung them aside. "Oh, man," he yelled seeing the hard mounds of Steve's ass for the first time. "That fucking ass..." he slapped it hard ... "that fucking ass ...!" He slapped it again.

Steve turned over, pulled Grady down on top of him and once again they were grappling all over the floor, limbs entwined in an erotic wrestling match pitting muscle against muscle. Then it was Grady face down on the floor and Steve staring down at his cargo shorts. He yanked them down hard from the waist, saw the crack of his ass appear, and then ...

"Holy shit," Steve breathed. He was looking down at the muscular back, tapering from broad shoulders down V-shaped lats to a slim, tight waist. And rising from the waist the most perfect pair of white globes, curving down to the top of his muscled thighs. Sharp tan lines set off the white flesh of his rounded cheeks against the golden tan of the spectacular body. "Shit," Steve groaned, "shit that ass is so fucking beautiful it's enough to make grown men weep. I gotta have it, stud. I gotta have it."

He slammed the palms of his hands on the solid mounds and squeezed them hard. Then the doctor pulled back on his knees and stared in a trance at the exquisite ass. He knew only one thing ..."I gotta have it, man ... That ass is mine...!!" His raised his arm and slapped it, then again and again, first the palm then the back of his hand."

Grady went wild. "Yeah ... whip that ass, man ... I love it ... you know, don't you? ... you know what I want, what I need." He raised his head and found himself looking in the floor-length wall mirror, staring up at the rugged, naked bodybuilder, his muscles rippling as his arm whaled away at his ass. He yelled, "My ass is yours. Steve. Do what you want ... hurt it ... whip it ... fuck it." His shout became a sob ... "I want your dick in my ass so bad. Please, sir, fuck my ass."

Driven to a pitch of desire Steve stopped slapping and gazed down at the white globes now bearing the red imprints of his hand. "No, no, I'm sorry, man, I marked that beautiful ass." He fell on his stomach between Grady's legs and pressed his cheek against the ass cheeks. He kissed the red welts and licked the tender white mounds, bringing balm to tortured flesh. He pulled back, spread the cheeks with his hands and found himself looking at the tight hole, surrounded by wisps of black hair.

"I hurt your ass, Grady," he whispered. "But I'll heal it." He buried his face between the ass cheeks and licked the soft hair, then the hole itself, which clenched instinctively. He licked the sphincter until it relaxed, then pushed his tongue inside it – just the tip at first until he felt the warm membrane and then probed deeper, deeper.

He felt the sinewy body ripple under him, heard the sob of ecstasy as the young jock reached forward and clawed at the carpet beneath the mirror. Steve was finally inside the man, his tongue making love to his ass. Inside him! That's where he needed to be, that was the image in his fantasies, the image he had masturbated over so many times. And now the stunning athlete was beneath him, waiting ... waiting to get his ass ploughed by his doctor.

Steve's face pulled back from his ass, his hand reached forward and he ran his fingers through the thick black hair at the nape of Grady's neck. He stroked it and the man's groans grew louder. Then he grabbed the hair on his head and pulled it back, forcing Grady to stare at him in the mirror. His green eyes were wet with tears as he gazed at the mirror image of the man who right at this moment was his whole world, the sole object of his desire.

Steve smiled at him in the mirror. "You really want it, don't you, stud? Let me hear it ... I love hearing a macho gym jock beg to get his ass fucked."

"Don't torture me like this, doc. You know I want it real bad, since the minute I laid eyes on you." His handsome face winced. "I wanna feel your dick in my ass. Please, sir, please fuck me – hammer my ass, pound it, hurt it. You can do anything to me, sir, anything ... everything. Just so long as you fuck me. You want me to beg? OK, I'm begging you. Please, Steve ... please fuck me."

And so it began. Steve reached sideways toward a jar of lube but Grady said, "No, please, not that. I wanna feel all of it ... all of your dick as it pushes into me. My ass is already spit-slick from your tongue. But I'd take it dry ... just so long as you're inside me."

Steve fell forward, kissed the nape of Grady's neck, pressed his cock lengthwise against his ass, sliding it up and down between his cheeks. He whispered in Grady's ear, "Feel that long shaft rubbing against your ass, stud? Feels good, eh? Imagine how good it's gonna feel inside you, that huge dick pushing inside your ass, deeper and deeper into your gut."

Driven wild with desire Grady's face was on the carpet moaning, "Do it, man ... please ... please..."

Steve lowered his face to the floor and turned Grady's head to face him. Their eyes, their lips were inches apart. They gazed at each other, saw themselves reflected in each other's eyes. Steve smiled. "This is what we've both wanted all along, Grady. Feel it? Feel that rod press against your hole? Aaah, there it is, the head's inside, now here it comes, slowly, inch after inch, sliding down your chute, deeper, deeper, all the way. I'm inside you, man. My cock's touching the back of your ass ... one last push and..."

Grady's eyes opened wide in disbelief as he felt Steve's cock slide over the inner sphincter and come to rest in the deepest, hottest chamber of his ass. A bolt of exquisite pain flashed from Grady's balls and consumed his entire body. He opened his mouth in a scream that was silenced by Steve's mouth closing over his. Ravenously they kissed, licked, bit each other's lips as the doctor's long shaft lay motionless in the athlete's ass, the cock and the ass pulsing in unison, driven by their pounding heartbeats.

Finally Grady pulled his head back and gasped, "Man, that feels ... it feels ... oh shit ...fuck ... fuck. It feels so good inside me. Fuck me, man." He screamed, "Fuck my ass!"

Steve sprang into action. He pulled back up onto his knees with his cock still in Grady's ass as he lay face down on the floor. Steve reached down grabbed Grady's wrists, and pulled his arms back so they were stretched straight back behind him. He pulled them back further, lifting Grady's chest off the floor, then his pelvis, so his ass moved back onto Steve's cock, pushing it in deeper than ever.

They stared at the incredible sight in the mirror. The muscular jock, the swimwear model from the billboard, was trapped beneath the naked bodybuilder, arms stretched, body arched backward, his ass impaled on the iron shaft. His chiseled features winced in pain, dark curly hair falling over his face, tears flowing down his cheeks. It was one of the most beautiful sights Steve had ever seen and he took full advantage of it.

Steve had the young jock in a wresting submission pose, where jerking the wrists closer together behind him created unbearable tension in his shoulders and chest. The captive's torso flexed hard, chest pushed forward, shoulders bulging. With his arms stretched behind him it looked as if he were flying.

"Aaagh!" Steve jerked the wrists closer and pain shot through Grady's body. "You know I can rip your arms off, Grady. You're helpless – I can do anything to you. A man like you, a hot, macho muscle stud ... I wanna hear you submit to me. I wanna hear you beg." He pushed the wrists even closer, stretching his arms and shoulders unbearably, and Grady howled like a wounded animal.

"I can't take anymore, man. OK, I submit to you ... I'll do anything ... Please, sir, I beg you. Fuck me, sir ... Fuck my ass."

Steve pulled his cock all the way back in Grady's ass, then slammed it back in, watching Grady writhe beneath him. But the more he writhed the worse the pain in his arms so he had no choice but to watch himself in the mirror and endure the piston driving in his ass. Grady had longed for the doctor to fuck him, but he hadn't known he wanted it like this. But he did ... and Steve knew it.

As Grady stared into the mirror it was like looking at someone else, a beautiful young athlete captured by an alpha top-man was torturing his body and pile-driving his ass with his massive cock. He had admired himself in the mirror many times before but he had never seen himself like this. He was addicted to beautiful men ... and now he himself was one of the most beautiful young jocks he had ever seen, stretched in an agonizing submission hold, a ramrod in his ass.

He looked from himself to Steve whose handsome face was alive with passion, his muscles rippling as his hips slammed down on Grady's ass. It was a pornographic fantasy ... his ass was on fire ... his whole body wracked with exquisite pain.

It went on forever, he never wanted it to stop, but when Steve increased the speed and pressure of the merciless fuck and stretched his body even further back, Grady knew he had to submit. He gazed at Steve in a trance and moaned, "Yeah, fuck me, man ... fuck that ass ... make me shoot. I'm gonna cum ... oh yeah, fuck me, fuck me ... oh shit ... fuck ... I love you, man ... I love you ... Aaagh"

He stared at the arched body of the agonized jock, and watched in awe as his cock erupted with a stream of juice that splashed on the floor before him. He shot again, howling, gasping sobbing until his body went limp and sagged forward, his arms still stretched behind him.

Steve held him like that for a while, staring at the man from the billboard, the beautiful young athlete slumped in submission, hanging by his arms, head sagging forward, sobbing, his ass still impaled on the rod that had pounded his ass.

At last Steve let go and Grady slumped forward on the floor. Steve fell on top of him and they twisted their heads to face each other. Through his sobs Grady stammered, "That was ... fuck ... the best fuck I ever had. Man, you're incredible. The best." Steve smiled and stirred. "No-no, don't pull out," Grady pleaded. "Leave it there ... it feels so good."

"I'm not gonna pull out, Grady, because it's not over. You begged me to fuck your ass and by God I'm gonna fuck it." Steve pulled almost all the way out, then grabbed one of Grady's legs and swung it over until Grady was on his back staring up at him. Steve pushed the leg up and gazed down at his own cock disappearing into the young jock's perfect ass.

"Oh man, that looks so fucking hot. I'm gonna fuck you and fuck you `til you beg me to stop."

"That'll never happen, doc. You'll never hear me say that." Grady managed a teary smile.

Steve was mesmerized by the sight of his own cock sliding in and out of Grady's hole, hearing him moan, watching his magnificent body move under him, the mounds of his chest, the ridges of his washboard abs ... and his cock, hard again already, rising up from a thicket of curly black pubic hair.

"OK, buddy, here we go," Steve growled. He pulled Grady's legs over his shoulders, thrust his cock in deep and leaned forward, bracing his hands on the floor beside Grady's face. Grady reached up and ran his hands over Steve's chest, over his shoulders, down the lats and his fingers traced the lines of his eight-pack abs. "Gorgeous," he said, "so fucking gorgeous ... and you're fucking my ass. Don't stop, man. Never stop."

As he felt the long pole reaming his ass he clamped his palms over the slabs of Steve's chest. He dug his fingers in hard and clawed at the rock hard muscles, watching Steve's sculpted features wince in pain. He stroked his nipples, then twisted them hard in his fingers. Steve moved his hands from the floor to Grady's chest and worked on his nipples too. It became a minor trial of strength and Grady groaned, "Yeah, work those fucking tits, man ... shit I love that ... harder, man, harder.

Tears were brimming in the eyes of both men when Grady finally said, "OK, OK, man, I give up ... you win."

Steve didn't stop fucking but he shifted again, this time clamping Grady's wrists hard to the floor. A look of surprise crossed Grady's face as Steve said, "Try to get free."

Grady stared up at the blue eyes, he clenched his jaw, flexed his muscles and pulled at his wrists, but they didn't move. He pushed up with all his strength and raised Steve's hand two inches of the floor – two men pitting muscle against muscle, their arms shuddering with effort. In the stalemate that followed veins bulged in Grady's straining body for long trembling seconds until he yelled, "Fuck you man." He was beaten ... he fell back limply. The man was too strong.

Steve's eyes gleamed. "Damn, I love to see a hunk like you struggle. But you're my prisoner, man. You're helpless, at my mercy. Now you know how it feels. I should tie you up ... man, I'd love to see you in chains, that magnificent body spread-eagled wondering what I'm gonna do to my prisoner – fuck him, make him suck dick, whip the muscles of that perfect physique.

"Aah..." Grady writhed beneath him. "You're gonna make me cum again. Man, I've never got into that kinda stuff, like bondage and pain and shit. I've never wanted stuff like that.

"Until now," Steve smiled.

Grady's eyes opened wide with surprise. "Hell yes. Shit, you know everything doc. But I've never ... I'm not sure how ... I mean, if I could ..."

"No sweat, buddy. I've got a whole basement room set up for that. It'll blow your mind. Soon, Grady, soon. But just now the mere thought of it was gonna make you cum again, so ..."

He reached over to his discarded jeans, pulled the wide brown belt from them and looked down fiercely at the nervous young jock. He pulled the belt tight between his hands with a loud slapping sound, making Grady wince. Then he leaned forward and looped the belt round Grady's neck. He threaded it through the buckle and held the end, his arms stretched out sideways, biceps flexed.

"Aaah," Grady groaned and reflexively grabbed at the belt round his neck, trying to pull it loose. "No, man, I don't think I can ... please, I ..."

"Quiet." Steve's tone suddenly became harsh. "You said I could do anything to you, man. You begged me to fuck you. Damn you, man, now you want me to stop?"

"No, no, don't stop. Please, sir, I'll do anything ... You can do anything. Look, sir, my ass is yours. He grabbed his own legs behind the knees and pulled them back exposing his asshole with Steve's cock inside it.

"OK fucker, this is what rough feels like." Steve yanked up on the belt, pulling Grady's handsome face forward. It hung from the belt helplessly, a macho jock forced to stare up at his captor, his dick buried deep in his ass. The homoerotic image fired Steve up. The man was so fucking gorgeous, and he was completely at Steve's mercy.

He pulled his cock back up the chute, paused ... and slammed it back in like a ramrod driving into his ass so hard it set Grady's head thrashing from side to side, black hair flying, his body bucking and writhing under the onslaught of the powerful bodybuilder.

"Aaagh..." Grady reached up desperately in a futile attempt to pull the belt away. He reached further forward clawing at the air, frantic to touch the muscular body pounding down on him. He gave up and stretched his arms helplessly off to the sides in a gesture of surrender.

The exultant Steve held the belt tight in one fist while the other pumped triumphantly in the air as if he were riding a bucking stallion. Grady looked up at the naked muscle god pulling on the reins round his neck while he rode his ass. His neck ached and to ease the pain he linked his hands behind his neck, his elbows stretched out to the side.

Steve stared in awe. That was it – the same pose as in the billboard, hands behind neck, biceps bulging in a classic bodybuilder pose. But now the self-assured swimwear model was no longer gazing arrogantly down from the billboard at the salivating driver parked by the road, staring up at him, worshipping him, and pumping his dick trying to make the picture come alive.

And now it was alive. That very same young athlete, with the same pose, was staring up at Steve with a belt round his neck, tears pouring from his eyes, his superb physique gleaming with sweat, his ass impaled on the pile-driver of Steve's cock.

"Man," Steve yelled, "you look so fucking hot like that, you're making me cum. I gotta cum in your ass, stud. You wanna feel my hot jizz in your ass?"

"Yeah," Grady howled. "Fuck that ass ... it belongs to you man ... cum in my ass ... let me feel your juice in me. He flung his arms out and pumped his fists – "I love you, man!" – as his body spasmed and his cock exploded, spraying semen over his own chest and face.

"Yeah, that's it man," Steve yelled. "Fucking beautiful, man ... yeah ... here it comes, man ... fuck, fuck, fuuuck...!!" He stared wildly down at the shuddering jock, his cum-soaked face hanging from the belt, and Steve's cock erupted deep inside his ass, pumping hard until it oozed out of his ass and ran down over the perfect white globes.

He fell forward on Grady's cum-splashed body and they melted into a delirium of uncontrolled passion, kissing, moaning, crushing each other in their arms. Grady moaned, "Man, that was the most spectacular fuck of my life. And that belt round my neck ... I've never ..."

"I know, I know," Steve said softly. "After we've rested a bit I'm gonna take you down in that basement and ... We have a whole long way to go together, Grady."

A short while later Lloyd came home.

He had seen a car parked at the gate and assumed it must be Steve's last patient. He was surprised as Steve rarely worked this late. The last thing he wanted was to make too much noise and interrupt a therapy session so he walked quietly round the side of the house to take a quick peek in the window of Steve's office to make sure they were still in session.

One look was enough and Lloyd pulled back out of sight and blinked in surprise. Steve and Grady were bucked naked, asleep on the floor, entwined in each other's arms. His plan had worked. Steve had obviously played out his fantasy at last of having sex with a patient ... They were still there, on the floor. And it looked like there was more to come.

He didn't wait to find out ... he would leave them alone in the house. He went quietly through the front door and left a note on the hall table. He found it surprisingly hard to find the right words and, after several tries, he wound up with a simple "Gone down to the guys' house for dinner. Come join us when you're ready. I love you ... L."

His confusion over what to write stayed with him as he drove away. But what was the problem? Things had turned out just as he wanted ... hadn't they? Still, the sight of the two men wrapped in each other's arms made him uneasy ... nervous even. Instinctively he knew that Steve and Grady still had a way to go together, his thoughts ironically echoing the very words Steve had spoken.

"Hey, that was quick," Randy shouted as Lloyd walked through the gate. "And you didn't even change out of that suit and tie. Where's that brother of mine?"

"Oh, he'll be along," Lloyd said. "Had a late patient." But with his acute antennae Bob heard something forced in his casual tone. He looked at him but Lloyd averted his eyes and Bob detected a slight blush.

The twins and the boys were already serving dinner at the outdoor table, an evening ritual by now, with most of the men and boys present. Lloyd took off his jacket, loosened his tie and took his place at table, careful not to sit opposite Bob, sensing that Bob suspected the truth ... which he did, of course.

On the surface the dinner proceeded as usual, but the boys were all carefully attuned to ripples beneath the surface and knew that "something's up" as Eddie whispered to Brandon and Ben. As the meal went on and there was still no sign of Steve the sense of unease became palpable and the men found themselves tiptoeing round the subject so as not to embarrass Lloyd.

The meal ended at last, the twins brought out coffee, drinks and the cheeseboard, and it was clear that Steve was not coming. The atmosphere by now was thick with foreboding and everyone avoided Lloyd's eyes. Lloyd was drinking much more than usual and that gave Bob his opening. "Lloyd, if you don't mind my saying so, I don't think you should be driving after drinking so much, so why don't you spend the night here?"

It was as if Bob had flung a lifebelt to a drowning man, and Lloyd grabbed it. "Yeah, yeah, you're right, buddy, I was thinking the same thing. But don't you have pretty much a full house tonight?"

It was true and there was a momentary silence, broken unexpectedly by Mario. "You would be welcome to stay in my room, amico. It has only one bed but it's a big one and I don't snore – at least," he smiled, "nobody's complained so far. And to sweeten the offer, I have an old bottle of Stravecchio – Italian brandy – some espresso from Italy and the creamiest gelato you've ever tasted. So I could treat you to a night-cap of old Italy if you don't mind sleeping with me after."

Bob flung a smile of gratitude to Mario and Lloyd jumped at the chance. "Gee, thanks, Mario, I'd be honored to spend the night with you. Sounds like just what the doctor ordered." His unfortunate use of the word `doctor' made him blush, but he was saved by Eddie, of all people, who shouted, "Can I watch?"

His impudence was infectious as always and was greeted by howls of laughter. That was the perfect moment for Lloyd to make his exit so, thanking them all for dinner (and implicitly for their discretion), he put his arm over Mario's shoulder and they went up to his room.

The boys started to clear away dinner, leaving Bob, Randy, Mark, Zack and Pete at the table. There was an uncomfortable silence as Randy morosely dug at the cheese. Direct as ever he growled, "So what the fuck's going on?" He pointed the cheese knife at Bob. "You know, don't you, so tell me ... and don't bullshit me."

Bob looked at the other guys and sighed. "OK, it's not a big deal and Lloyd acted for the best, so he thought. He wanted to give Steve a present – to help him live out his buried fantasy of sex with a patient. Lloyd has this gym buddy, apparently a real hot actor-model, who needed therapy so Lloyd sent him to Steve, thinking that Steve wouldn't be able to resist. My guess is he was right. Steve sees patients at his house on Fridays, so ..."

Randy bristled and his eyes blazed. "So right now Steve is up there banging this poncing model, is that what you're saying? OK, that does it. No man fucks with my brother's head and gets away with it. I'll fucking rearrange the pretty boy's face so bad that it'll be a long time before he seduces anyone else. Mother-fucking model!" he spat the word out contemptuously as he banged his fists on the table and pushed himself up out of his seat.

But Mark and Zack on either side of him clamped their hands on his shoulders and pulled him back down. Bob grabbed Randy's jaw and locked eyes with him. "Randy for god's sake, don't go up there and start busting up the place. You'll make things ten times worse. We're talking about two consenting adults here ... no one seduced anyone ... or maybe they seduced each other, who cares? It's no concern of ours. Dammit, if I ever left you to start fooling around with some actor would you want brother Steve to come sort me out?"

"Bullshit, that would never happen."

"Oh no?" Bob said with raised eyebrows. That took the wind out of Randy's billowing sails. The slightest suggestion that Bob would leave him for someone else sent a shiver of fear through Randy and he became compliant. But Bob saw the blaze of anger in his eyes turn to something far worse, the ice-cold menace of retribution.

"OK," Randy said, "I'll let it ride for tonight, wait for Steve to see sense and dump the son of a bitch. But all of you listen up." He jabbed the cheese knife at them for emphasis. "If that mother fucker is not out of my brother's life by tomorrow I'll damn well take him out of it. And none of you assholes can stop me. I'll fucking well ..."

"Randy," Bob said indignantly, "our friends are not assholes and ..." his tone became soothing "... and anyway I'm real tired so will you just take me to bed?"

"No dammit, no way. And if you get in my way I'll ..." He suddenly saw the shock on their faces and realized what he had said. He folded like a little boy after blurting out `fuck you' to a parent. "OK," he said sullenly. "We'll go to bed." Then nervously, "You still wanna sleep with me, don't you?"

"If you recall, Randy, it was my idea in the first place. Come on ... asshole." They got up and Bob pushed Randy toward the house, looking back over his shoulder at the others with a shrug and an eye-rolling grin.

And so silence descended on the house at last. Up in Mario's room the Italian's serenity and charm was having a healing effect on Lloyd. The brandy soothed him and the coffee and Italian gelato teased his taste buds. As he watched the handsome young Italian moving around the room he knew he couldn't be in better hands – and he looked forward to being naked in bed with him.

Mario sat down and smiled into Lloyd's eyes. "And now, amico, do you want to tell me all about it?"

Lloyd sighed with relief. "Yes Mario. Yeah, I do."

The scene was far less serene up at the Mulholland house where the action had moved down to the basement. Steve was sprawled naked in an armchair gazing upward and stroking his cock, careful not to bust his load. He wanted this to last.

It was as if Steve was back in his car at the side of the road on Sunset, jacking off looking up at the homoerotic billboard of the spectacular young muscle-god showing off his perfect physique in the classic pose of hands behind his head, elbows out to the side. In the picture his torso had been turned slightly sideways, flexing his biceps, his chest and abs, his long slim waist tapering down to black briefs bulging in front. His handsome face had smiled down with a look of arrogance at the public at his feet – and especially at Steve in his car.

And now Steve was looking up at the same thing – almost the same. Grady was standing before him naked except for the same black briefs. There was a collar round his neck attached to a rope stretching up to a hook in the ceiling. And his wrists were tied to the back of the collar, forcing him into the same classic pose as the billboard.

The biggest difference was that the arrogance had gone, replaced by nervous anticipation, and the bulge in his briefs was clearly a long hard cock stretching up sideways almost to the top. Steve looked up into the pale green eyes.

"I've done this before with you, Grady. Once last year I saw your billboard on Sunset and I had to pull over and look up at you. There you were, towering over me, almost naked, glorious ... so fucking beautiful I had to reach into my pants, grab my cock and jerk off looking at you.

"And now here you are, the same gorgeous young jock in the flesh, even more stunning in person, towering above me in exactly the same pose. The difference is that this time you're my prisoner, tied by the neck, hands tied behind your head ... and there's a stain of pre-cum spreading over your briefs. And I'm here jacking off watching you.

"And this time the arrogance is gone because you are at my mercy. That stunningly beautiful dark haired, chiseled-featured young muscle jock who made me cream my pants a year ago on Sunset Boulevard ... that same man is right here, a helpless captive in my basement, completely at my mercy."

Grady's heart was beating wildly as he looked down at the rugged, macho stud pounding his meat. His body flexed as he tugged at his restraints but realized he was bound tight.

"OK, you win. What are you gonna do to me, man? Tell me, what you gonna do?"

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 266

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!