A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 275 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER: Grady, the new movie Tarzan, overwhelmed by his first day on set, seeks emotional and sexual comfort from Doctor Steve. "Steve gazed down at the muscle-jock spread-eagled helpless on the floor, shirtless in tight brown goatskin pants." Later Grady is forced to watch Randy and Bob make love. "He wanted desperately to be Bob, knew exactly what he was feeling as the gypsy's huge shaft filled his ass."

CHAPTER 275 – "THE YOUNG JOCK'S INITITATION"

It had all begun when Grady's publicity photos appeared as a middle-page spread in People Magazine, mostly of him dressed (or undressed) as Tarzan, the lead character he would play in his upcoming big-budget action movie. Young Brandon, outspoken as always, had confided to Grady that he and his pals, Eddie and Ben, fantasized about those erotic pictures coming to life.

Grady had come to like and admire the brave kid in the wheelchair and he wanted to do something special for him and make his dream come true. So, with the complicity of Steve and the participation of the Marine Hassan and the Ranger Pete in their uniforms, Grady, stripped naked except for a ragged loin cloth, had re-enacted the stunning climax of the movie where Tarzan is captured and worked over by two brutal soldiers.

With the instincts of an actor and his own capacity for fantasy, Grady was able to lose himself in the role, becoming the character, thinking the man's thoughts, sensing his feelings, as he would eventually do on the film set. It was highly erotic for him to act out the fantasy of the jungle man in a loincloth, the muscular alpha male in naked bondage at the mercy of his captors.

After being ass-fucked by the soldiers the climax came when Grady wrestled with the Marine for ultimate superiority. In their fantasy version, Tarzan is beaten and fucked savagely by the soldier, leaving him unconscious on the ground. The uniformed men, Hassan and Pete, stood over him, joined by Steve, Lloyd and the three boys, all gathered round the handsome muscle-god sprawled on his back in the dirt, his head fallen to one side, eyes closed.

Hassan said, "Not often you see a sight as beautiful as that."

A hand reached down to Grady and a voice said, "The name's Pete."

Grady opened his eyes and grinned, "So I gather," letting himself be pulled to his feet. "Pleased to meet you, big guy. Man you sure know how to fuck – as I'm sure this boy of yours knows. Brandon's a lucky boy and you are a very lucky man. Grady pulled Pete into a bear-hug from which they both emerged smothered in jizz. Grady laughed, "Hell, what we all need is a swim."

After a raucous session in the pool they pulled on shorts and Steve said, "This sun is brutal. Let's all go inside for cocktails." They gathered in a small, shady room overlooking the driveway and the boys dominated the conversation with an excited rehashing of the fantasy movie they had seen and jerked off to so many times. Grady grinned. "That, by the way, is not how the movie really ends. Tarzan wins of course and leaves the soldiers sprawled in the dust." The boys seemed happier with that ending, though they kept in mind the erotic one they had seen.

Suddenly the gate buzzed and Steve clicked it open. Grady's eyes bulged as he saw two bikers roar down the driveway and pull up outside. They were both shirtless in leather pants and boots, their muscular black torsos glistening with sweat. One was older than the other, presumably master and boy. Grady felt his cock shudder as he stared at the heavily muscled man, wearing leather wristbands and oozing the rugged masculinity of a macho top-man. His chiseled ebony features broke into a dazzling smile as Steve came out to greet him.

"Can't stop," the man said, tossing a black leather bag to Steve. "We just dropped by to give you these pieces of surplus hardware that I thought you and Lloyd could use in that playroom dungeon of yours. Enjoy. Gotta go, man – dinner with Bob and Randy." They kick-started the bikes, revved the engines and roared back up the drive.

Grady looked wide-eyed at Lloyd and asked, "Who in the hell was that?"

"Oh, that was Zack and his boy Darius. You'll get to meet them soon enough. You'll enjoy their company." Then he smiled maliciously. "Or maybe not."

After a relaxing dinner with Steve and the guys Grady went to bed early as he had to report to the studio next morning. Fortunately the light whip marks on his chest had faded away as he was to spend most of the day in a loincloth under brutal studio lighting.

It was mostly a technical day for lighting and makeup tests, and early trials to help Grady get used to the green screen special effects. He was often called on to act portions of several scenes, and he found it hard having to suddenly be in character with no context, only a partial set and sometimes not even another actor to play off, just an assistant director reading off-camera lines. But thank god there was no press.

It was a grueling day, with Grady the focus of attention all the time, getting instructions from all sides – the director and various members of the crew. He often felt out of his depth but, judging by comments from the director and cinematographer, they were impressed by the way he eased naturally into the role and became their image of the Tarzan in the script.

At the end of the day the director came up and threw his arm round his shoulder. "You must feel like you've been sucker-punched, Grady, being the center of attention all day on a half-built set. But I'm real pleased with you, you did great, everything I'd hoped for. And you sure as hell look the part – my vision of the new Tarzan. The crew couldn't take their eyes off you," he grinned.

"I know movies, young man, and I have a real good feeling about this one. We have a great script and I can feel in my bones it's gonna be a blockbuster. It's an expensive project but it'll make a ton of money for the studio ... and it'll make you a big star, so you better be prepared for that, big guy. The crew have really taken to you and they will be like a family to you here. I hope you have a supportive bunch of friends at home to help ease the tension."

"Yeah, I do," Grady grinned. "My buddies are the best."

The mention of stardom scared Grady and suddenly he couldn't wait to be in the safe company of Steve, Lloyd and his new friends. He smiled as he thought of Eddie's laughter and Brandon's eyes blinking earnestly behind his glasses. That's just what he needed right now. He left the studio in a shower of congratulations from the crew and his mind was spinning as he drove out of the gates.

The guard tipped his cap to him and shouted, "Well done, sir. Take it easy now." Word had obviously spread round the whole place and Grady shuddered as he realized that, with a hugely expensive project like this, a big chunk of the studio's future rested on his shoulders. As he headed for his house on Laurel Canyon his thoughts were a jumbled mixture of the demands of his job contrasting with the refuge he had found in his new life with Steve and his buddies. He couldn't separate the two and he felt a mild panic that he would never think straight again.

It had been agreed that whenever Grady left the studio he would go to his own house and be picked up from there by Eddie, playing the `pool boy'. It was a simple precaution to make absolutely sure that the press never learned of his presence at Steve's house, which had become his fortress – the only place he felt safe.

As he walked around his own place, picking out a few clothes he needed to take with him, the silence and solitude of the house oppressed him and he knew he could never have survived if he came home from work to this every day. Thank god for Lloyd, his introduction to Steve and what had followed from that. But soon his dark thoughts were dispelled by the unmistakable sound of Eddie's old truck driving round to the back of the house.

Eddie bounced into the house and Grady flung his arms round him, holding him tight like a drowning man clutching a lifebelt. "Everything OK, sir?" asked Eddie brightly." Grady laughed, "It is now, kiddo. Man you're a sight for tired eyes. Is anyone outside?"

"Not a soul sir, and I looked carefully." Grady smiled at the pool boy in his dungarees and his cap pulled sideways. "Then take me home, Eddie, please."

On the drive up to Steve's Grady was never more grateful for Eddie's non-stop chatter as he was now. As the boy rattled on Grady could zone out and try to clear his mind of the turmoil of the day. But when they arrived at the house Steve could see the anguish in Grady's eyes and realized that his first real day at the studio had been daunting for him.

Eddie tactfully left them together and ran down the path to Hassan in the guest house. Steve smiled gently at Grady and asked, "So? How was the first day of school?"

"OK," Grady shrugged off-handedly. Pretty good, I guess. The director was pleased." Then suddenly he burst into tears and threw himself into Steve's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. "I can't do it, man ... I'm so scared. The pressure ... it's all on me ... I'll never remember the stuff they taught me... I can't take it Steve. I'm gonna quit the movie ... it's just too..."

"Stop!" Steve grabbed his shoulders and held him at arm's length. "You're having a panic attack, Grady, which is quite normal after the day you've had. Here ..." He went to the drinks table and poured a large brandy. "Drink this ... and then we're going to my office for a chat."

Grady gulped the drink down and began to stabilize as he felt the soothing warmth flow inside him. Meekly he followed Steve into his office where Steve made him sit on the couch and he sat in an armchair facing him, with his clipboard on his lap – therapist and patient.

"OK, Grady, we're alone in the house, no interruptions, so think of this as a regular therapy session. Here ... like I said, this is the most important equipment in a therapist's office." He handed Grady a box of tissues and Grady managed a grin as he wiped his eyes and cheeks dry of tears and blew his nose. He managed a weak smile and said, "Huh, some Tarzan! What a wimp. How many times do you see a grown man bawl his eyes out like that?"

"Much more often than you'd imagine, buddy. But it's just between us. Now take a few deep breaths, pull your thoughts together and tell me about it."

Grady inhaled deeply, stared at Steve's kind blue eyes and started to recover. "Steve, the budget for the movie is two hundred million dollars – two hundred fucking million. There's a lot riding on this project and it feels like it's all on my shoulders. Even the guard on the gate tipped his cap and called me sir. These guys' paychecks depend on this movie being a hit and I'm terrified of letting them down." His voice was rising to a panic again.

"It was a real tough day and I thought I could leave it behind me at the studio gate, but it's all buzzing in my head like a swarm of bees. Even seeing Eddie and thinking of this house didn't help for long `cos I couldn't separate home from work. My mind's a jumble, and I'm scared, Steve. Scared shitless. Tell me what to do, man."

"OK," said Steve soothingly. "Let's look at this step by step. You can't separate work and home, you say. And you are, in fact, living in two worlds, separate but influencing each other. There's the studio world of fantasy and your home world of ..." He checked himself and chuckled. "No strike that – this place is a world of fantasy too, god knows." That made Grady laugh and Steve was encouraged.

"OK, we'll look at both worlds in turn. The studio today. You say the director was pleased ... and how did the crew react? How did you get on with them – the grips, wardrobe, makeup?"

"Great," Grady said. "They were real friendly and supportive and we laughed a lot. I made them laugh too. They all said I was exactly what they were hoping for – the prefect Tarzan that the script called for. I just hope I don't let them down."

"Now listen to me, Grady. If the movie is half as exciting as what I watched yesterday – you playing out that scene opposite Pete and Hassan – it's gonna be a knockout. You were fucking spectacular. You know, I've watched you since you came here and you never look more alive, more macho, more powerful, than when you're having sex – especially the kind of sex you had with Mark and Jamie, then the guys yesterday. You take that look, that attitude to the studio each day and you'll do great – you'll earn every penny they're paying you."

"Yeah, but let me remind you," Grady laughed, "that I don't get butt-fucked in the movie."

"Of course not," Steve smiled, "but that brings me to your second world – here in this house. This is the perfect place to live, and the perfect guys to be living with while you shoot the movie. It's closed to the outside world and will give you everything you want and need.

"I mean, you're addicted to gorgeous men, right? Bingo. This tribe has some of the most beautiful men and boys you'll ever meet – and you haven't met half of them yet. You want hot, rough sex? Well, on that subject I let yesterday speak for itself. You want absolute privacy and safety? You got it – my brother Randy has already seen to that."

"Randy?" Grady said, with a gleam in his eye not lost on Steve. "What's he got to do with this?"

"The boys didn't tell you? Yesterday when the group was gathered together it seems Randy stood up and made one of those short, fierce speeches he's famous for – scary and to the point. It was an order. He said that while you were here if anyone breathed a word about you outside the house he would deal with them personally – `and that won't be pretty!'

"He made it clear that while you were our guest he would make sure you have the privacy and protection you need. Randy is the boss of the tribe and his word is law. He has ferocious protective instincts toward the men and boys and to anyone living with us. He is doubly protective of his brothers ..." Steve shrugged, "... as you unfortunately found out."

"So here's my prescription. While you're here you do what you enjoy most – you have as much sex as you like, the raunchier the better. It'll not only take your mind off the studio, it'll set you up for work with that gleam in your eye I mentioned – that powerful, macho look, muscles flexed with energy like an animal ready to pounce. That's the hot, erotic look that turned us on, turns your crew on and will turn on audiences all over the world."

"Wow, you don't say," grinned Grady. "You sure have a way with words, Steve. There's another thing, though. You mentioned flexing muscles, and that's what I have to be doing a lot. It's essential that I keep my body in perfect shape as I'll be spending most of my time in front of a camera wearing only a loincloth. I have the option of using a trainer at the studio, though I've never had a trainer before."

Steve grinned. "Not a problem, Grady. I told you this tribe has everything – including the best gym coach I've ever known – Randy. He has worked with everyone in the tribe ... how do you think all those boys have such hot bodies, Brandon included? Randy can be a tough son-of-a-bitch but he gets results. Oh I know, I know how you two are keeping your distance from each other. But here's another prescription from you doctor. You patch things up with Randy and get your ass down to his gym each morning before work and let him put you through your paces."

Grady was confused and skeptical about Randy after the savage way he first treated him so Steve smiled and lowered his voice. Here's a little secret you don't know. My brother is longing to fuck your ass as much as you are to take it. He's the hottest fuck in creation – just that his stupid macho pride holds him back."

Grady was taken aback, but all the talk of Randy had fired him up to a pitch of sexual desire and his eyes fixed on Steve. "Randy's brother's not exactly chopped liver either," he smiled. "Did you know you're wearing that same V-neck gray T-shirt that turned me on so much when I first met you? The only thing that looks hotter than you in that shirt is ... you out of it. Man, you've been so great talking to me like this, but there's one other thing you could do for me, like you did before in this very office. Could you do me a favor and fuck my ass, Steve?"

"A favor!" Steve laughed. "Don't sell yourself short, stud. Fucking you is not a favor – it's an honor."

Grady stood up and Steve sat back and gazed at him. He was dressed as Steve had never seen him – in tight brown goatskin leather pants and boots, with a loose, billowing, white linen dress shirt tucked into the pants at his slim waist. The shirt was open halfway down his chest giving a glimpse of his tanned pecs bulging underneath. He looked spectacular, like the cover of an old romance novel, and he was quick to explain.

"In the script, when Tarzan returns to England as the young viscount he was originally, I'll be in period costume during actual shooting. I'll have to wear something like this, so in rehearsals they make me wear this as a kind of facsimile. They keep the real clothes for the actual shoot so it doesn't matter if these get dirtied up. `Course, the character also wears riding boots and carries a riding whip."

Grady grinned. "There's a seduction scene where the viscount – his name is John – makes love to a servant girl – fucks her silly. The savagery of the jungle has surfaced in him, defying all the trappings of civilization. You wanna see?"

Steve smiled raunchily. "You put on one helluva show for Brandon and the boys yesterday. So how about one for your doc?"

Grady had spent most of the day getting into character at a moment's notice and so it came easily now. He picked up from the desk a long thin cane that Steve sometimes used as a pointer, and he strode around the room tapping it in his open palm like a whip. Finally he came to face Steve and stared into his eyes. There it was, Steve thought, that look he had talked about – a look of raw masculinity, rugged, seductive and hugely erotic. And underneath there was a faintest hint of amusement.

"Aaah," Steve moaned and reflexively pulled his cock from his jeans and stroked it slowly. "Take off your shirt," the man growled. Steve obeyed, still sitting in his chair, trapped there by the laser eyes piercing him. "Yeah, that's better," the man said, prodding Steve's naked chest with the end of the cane. "Beautiful."

The tall, handsome nobleman threw down the cane, put his hands low on his hips and stared down at Steve. Steve withered under the hypnotic gaze, just as, he knew the actress playing the maid would – and the entire movie audience with her. Grady took a step back and, with his eyes still riveted on Grady's, slowly unbuttoned the loose shirt, which fell open, displaying his rock hard pecs and ripped, eight-pack abs.

Steve beat his cock harder as Grady pulled the shirttails out of his pants and let the shirt hang open. He paced the room again and then, standing at a distance in the shadows, shrugged off the shirt and let it drop to the floor. Slowly he walked forward under the lights and Steve gasped as he gazed on the fantasy of the beautiful young aristocrat stripped to the waist in tight leather pants that did nothing to hide the long shape of his long cock running down his leg.

Grady stopped six feet away, folded his muscular arms across his chest and gazed at Steve, his eyes smoldering with lust. He was stunning – like a young demi-god – and Steve was spellbound. The man had to be worshipped.

Steve stood up, stepped forward and fell to his knees before him. He leaned down and pressed his cheek against the soft leather clinging to his muscled thighs. He licked the goatskin pants and moved up his leg until he felt the bulge of the cock underneath. He looked up and saw the green eyes flash their command.

Steve reached up and slowly unbuttoned the pants, then reached inside and pulled out the huge, rock-hard penis. Grady grabbed Steve's hair and pulled his head back so the massive cock pointed straight at his mouth. "Eat it," the man snarled. Steve opened his mouth obediently and Grady pulled his face toward the cock, then onto it, farther and farther until Steve gagged as the head of the cock pressed against the back of his throat.

Grady put both hands on Steve's head, pulled it back off his cock and gazed down at the alpha male on his knees, jaw sagging, spit dribbling from the corners of his mouth. Again the hypnotic green eyes pierced his. "I said eat it, man. Suck it ... let me see you swallow my man juice."

Again Grady pulled Steve's head forward, driving his cock deep into his throat. Steve choked, but he wanted this man so much he was soon feeding on the cock like a starving man. He sucked it, licked it, made love to it and swallowed it again and again. He glanced up at the razor sharp abs flexing above him and heard the deep voice growl. "Yeah, worship that cock, man ... worship that gorgeous body. You know you want it. You know you want my juice."

Steve worked feverishly, pounding the long shaft with his mouth. He ran his hands up over the slabs of Grady's chest, his ripped abs and rested them on his tight waist cinched by the belt of the leather pants. He let his hands wander behind the man until they wrapped round the hard globes bulging under the pants. Steve's heart missed a bit as he realized what he wanted more than anything else. He wanted the ass of this beautiful muscle-god.

But first the sperm. There was a new urgency as he sucked hard, pounding his handsome face down on it – a top man sucking dick. Steve tightened his throat muscles, using all the tricks taught to him by his lover Lloyd (who had learned them from Eddie). Grady was yelling, "Yeah, that's hot, man ... my rod fucking that gorgeous face. You look awesome, man, eating my cock. Shit, my dick's on fire ... I'm gonna cum ... yeah ... aah, fuck, fuck, yeaahh!"

Steve gulped desperately as hot juice slammed the back of his throat and poured inside him. The liquid tasted sweet, as if the man's outer beauty flavored the juices inside him. He was still gulping when Grady suddenly pulled out and blasted the rest of his sperm into Steve's face.

Grady looked down at the incredible sight of the doctor's rugged face, pouring with sweat and semen, cum oozing over his sagging jaw and dripping onto his muscular chest. Steve looked so much like his big brother that Grady flashed on the image of Randy on his knees, an image so erotic that his cock shuddered and spurted more cum straight into the open mouth.

When their breathing had subsided Grady reached down, pulled Steve up on his feet and rewarded him with a dazzling smile as he stuffed his cock back in his pans and did them up. He leaned forward and licked his own cum off Steve's eyes, his forehead, cheeks and his stubbled chin. He sucked the juice running down the cleft between the mounds of Steve's pecs. Then he picked up the box of tissues and wiped Steve's face dry. "You're right about the tissues," Grady laughed. "Don't have therapy – or get your face fucked – without them."

Steve roared with laughter and took him into a tight affectionate bear-hug. "OK," Grady grinned mischievously, here's how the rest of that scene plays out. When he's got his rocks off fucking the servant girl the young nobleman comes to his senses and looks down at the sobbing girl horrified at what he's done. He has brought the savagery of the jungle into the drawing rooms of civilized England and disgraced himself.

His rival, the earl's son, a handsome young buck the same age as Viscount John, bursts into the room. He looks down at the disheveled servant girl and challenges John to a fight as a matter of honor. John has the fighting instincts of a jungle animal, but he knows he has brought shame on himself and is prepared for his punishment. So, nobly, he puts up no defense as his handsome rival systematically demolishes him – thrashes him, canes his shirtless torso with his riding crop and leaves him beaten and unconscious on the floor."

"Soon after, the young Lord John renounces civilization and goes back to Africa as Tarzan, lord of the jungle." Grady grinned at Steve lasciviously. "Course, as you can guess, when I first read the script I couldn't help imagining a different ending to the fight. I mean, a beating and a caning is not all the handsome young aristocrat got from his angry rival standing over him. Hmm, now that I think of it," Grady smiled, "that rival, the earl's son, looked a lot like you..."

Steve's heart was beating wildly as he gazed into Grady's rascally eyes. "Shit, man, you and your stories – you are one exciting son-of-a-bitch." His voice hardened. "Get on the floor." Grady sank to his knees, then lay sprawled on his back, eyes closed, head fallen to one side, just like the unconscious young nobleman of Grady's story.

"Holy shit," Steve moaned, "fucking gorgeous." He gazed down at the spread-eagled muscle-god, shirtless in tight brown goatskin pants and boots, and felt his own cock throbbing in his jeans. This was the man who had overwhelmed top-man Steve, making him fall to his knees, worship him and suck his cock. He had gulped down his sperm, then felt it splashing in his face. Steve had been mastered, degraded. But now it was his turn.

He picked up the cane that Grady had earlier dropped on the floor and stroked it across Grady's bare chest, tracing the contours of his flawless pecs, his washboard abs and even the features of his handsome face. He grazed his nipples with the cane, causing him to stir slightly and moan, his eyes still closed.

Steve walked round him, tapping the cane in his palm as Grady had done when their positions were reversed. He hooked his foot under his back and flipped him over onto his stomach. "Shit damn," he gasped as the saw the twin mounds of his ass bulging against the tight goatskin leather. Instinctively he raised his arm and brought the cane down lightly across Grady's ass. Grady flinched and, as if slowly regaining his senses, crawled forward a few inches.

As Steve watched the rippling muscles of his back, lust and adrenaline coursed through him. He dropped to his knees, reached round Grady's waist and ripped open his pants, then tugged them down below his ass. He inhaled raggedly as he saw Grady's perfect white globes contrasting with his body's golden tan. He picked up the cane again, slapped it across the ass and saw the cheeks bounce under the lash.

Grady was fully alert now and reflexively tried to drag himself across the floor to escape the cane. As he crawled, his pants were dragged further down is legs until they were round his knees, making his ass even more vulnerable. Steve stood up and got in a couple more blows across the flexing mounds before flipping Grady back over onto his back.

"Mother-fucker," Steve growled. "You made me crawl to you, worship you, and submit to you when you fucked my face. But I don't take that shit, man. I'm a tough son-of-a-bitch alpha male and now it's payback time. Steve ripped open his jeans and pulled out his huge rock-hard cock, He spat on it, spat on his palm and stroked it, his blue eyes staring down at Grady.

Grady inhaled sharply and his penis, that had so recently emptied itself in Steve's mouth, now rose up again, stiff as a pole at the sight of the shirtless musclehunk looming over him. Slowly the aristocratic arrogance faded. Gone was the dominant expression of the nobleman, replaced but the submissive look of a humbled man prepared to accept his punishment.

In a gesture of abject surrender Grady pulled his legs back, leather pants and boots in the air, exposing his ass bearing the red stripes of the cane. His arms were splayed out submissively on the ground and his green eyes stared up at Steve in supplication.

Steve again spat on his cock, fell to his knees at Grady's ass, leaned forward and clamped his hands over Grady's biceps on the ground. He gazed into Grady's eyes and saw there not only the rampant desire of a man longing to get his ass fucked, but also the remnants of doubt and confusion that had clouded them when he came home. So Steve perpetuated the fantasy of the humbled young nobleman submitting to the punishment of his rival.

"Do you submit to me?"

"Yes, sir."

How should I punish you?"

"Fuck my ass, sir."

With the hint of a cruel smile Steve pushed his wet cock between the ass cheeks, paused, then in one steady plunge, drove the full length of his cock deep down the chute of his captive's ass. Grady's handsome face contorted with the initial pain and he panted, "No ... oh god ... oh fuck ... yeah, yeah. Fuck me, sir ... please fuck my ass."

Which is exactly what Steve did. He pulled his cock all the way out and plunged it in again, his eyes still boring into Grady's. And at last Grady felt free, free of the doubts and insecurities that had plagued him, safe as he lay there impaled on the shaft of this beautiful man. He pushed his butt higher, forcing Steve's cock ever deeper into his ass.

Grady needed this, craved it. He was such a stunningly handsome man, with his powerful, seductive arrogance, that men and women alike worshipped him, even more now in the context of budding stardom. So he craved the reverse. He had to be dominated by other strong, handsome alpha males, the reason for his obsession with gorgeous men. Just as others always submitted to his beauty, he needed to submit to beautiful men, to be tied up in subservience and above all to be fucked in the ass, the ultimate expression of surrender to another man's power.

He had loved getting fucked by Lloyd, the cop Mark, the Marine Hassan and Ranger Pete, all at the apex of homoerotic male beauty. And now he was gazing up at the awesome Steve, the man who had been the first to seduce him and plough his ass when he came to this house. Steve was the ultimate top-man with his rugged features, muscular body, intelligence and supreme self-confidence – the perfect man to soothe his mind and dominate his body.

Inhibitions faded as he groaned, "Oh, man, I fucking love that. Your cock feels so good in my ass. Yeah, fuck me hard, man ... I can take it ... I need to take it ... I need your rod in my ass."

Steve knew how badly he wanted it so he gave it to him. He pulled his hands off his biceps and planted them on his pecs. Grady raised his legs higher, hooked them over Steve's shoulders, reached up and dug his fingers into Steve's rock-hard pecs as the fuck intensified. Steve's cock had become a piston in Grady's ass. He knew Grady wanted to be totally dominated, he wanted to feel power and pain, he wanted to beg for relief.

It was long and ferocious as Steve adopted the legendary savage fucks of his brother Randy. Sweat poured from him down onto the tortured man and they were twisting each other's tits brutally, their screams echoing round the room. Grady was seized by a delirium of lust and he yelled, "You're fucking ripping me open, man. Yeah, do it ... harder ... don't stop. Fuck me!"

His head fell sideways and he saw the scene in the floor-length mirror – the big bodybuilder pounding the beautiful young jock. In his delirium he saw the handsome tortured man, the model from the billboard, the gym-jock, the proud Tarzan, the young nobleman being thrashed by his rival. It became a pornographic blur and as he looked back at Steve at his chest rising over him he pounded the flexed pecs with his fists.

Steve reciprocated and the fuck became a pec-punching trial of strength, both spectacular males carried away by their mutual lust. Finally Steve grabbed the sides of Grady's pecs and dug his fingers in, a wrestling move so painful that it almost always resulted in a submission. Grady pounded Steve's chest and howled from the pain in his pecs and the ramrod in his ass.

"Give up, man," Steve yelled. "You know you can't take this. You're finished. The proud young buck has been beaten. Submit to your rival, man. Submit!!"

"Fuck you, asshole. I can take it. Fuck you ... fuck you ... fuuuck you ... Aaagh! OK, OK ... I submit, sir ... Aaagh!' His body spasmed, his eyes opened wide and he screamed as a ribbon of cum blasted from his cock, high in the air, and splashed on Steve's chest. Steve released the hold, gazed down at the beautiful young jock, body writhing, face thrashing from side to side in pain and jubilation, and Steve's cock erupted deep in his ass.

They were racked with jagged breaths, hearts pounding, eyes staring at each other in disbelief. Grady groaned as the huge cock yanked out of his ass and Steve stood up. He towered over the broken man and snarled, "Now get back to the jungle where you belong."

That corny line was greeted with laughter and applause from the door. "Fucking beautiful, guys. Totally awesome," Lloyd said. "Sorry to interrupt a therapy session, men, but I heard the noise and couldn't resist. Damn that was hot. You wanna drink?"

Good for Lloyd, Steve thought. A perfect end to a perfect fuck. And soon, freshly showered, they were sitting round by the pool with wine and appetizers that Lloyd had rustled up. Grady smiled at Steve. "I feel terrific, doc. All that panic, the tears when I came home from the studio – gone. Hell, I feel ready for anything. I'll knock `em dead down there."

"Told you," Steve smiled. "You'll come home often all tense and wound up and now we know the remedy – a good hard, honest-to-god fuck. Like I told you before, when you're not working you get as much sex as you can, the raunchier the better. It'll not only relax you it'll give you that gleam in the eye, that powerful, seductive look that'll light up the studio. What'll really do that for you is a gym workout with Randy every day. That'll really pump you, body and spirit."

"Yeah, well," Grady grinned ruefully. "After the way he roughed me up and tortured my ass when he came up here I think I'll be staying away from that guy. He seems to be keeping his distance too, which is fine by me."

"OK," Steve shrugged, "but it's about time you met some of the other guys of the tribe. Like those two leather guys who came by briefly the other day on their bikes? Don't know if you noticed them."

"Yeah, I saw them," Grady said casually. Did he ever! He got hard just thinking about them.

Grady wasn't due at the studio for another week while they completed the sets and did the final setups for lighting and effects. He was grateful for the breather as he felt he needed time to himself to regroup his thoughts, relax and study his script. He knew well the golden rule for every actor – preparation is everything. He still slept with Steve and Lloyd, and sex was limited to getting fucked by both of them before they went to sleep.

But after a few days Steve noticed him pacing the house and saw that old yearning in his eyes. The doctor was careful to keep Grady's sexual compulsion in check, but knew that total repression would be a mistake – even if it were possible. He smiled to himself ... time to write a new prescription – which he did by picking up the phone. As usual, the doctor as ringmaster, organizing men's lives for them – especially Grady's.

The next afternoon Grady was feeling edgy, not to mention horny. Steve and Lloyd were at work so he was contemplating jacking off watching himself in the mirror slowly strip naked, something Lloyd had taught him to do. It was hot, but no substitute for sex with one of the men, any of the men. Wearing his usual cargo shorts, a loose tank top and old sneakers he stood in front of the mirror stroking the bulge in his shorts and was just raising his arms to pull off his tank when the gate buzzer sounded.

He picked up the phone and heard a deep voice say, "Zack." His heart missed a beat. Lloyd had told him this was the name of the biker he had glimpsed when he dropped by with his boy a few days ago. The image was still vivid in his mind of the square-cut macho black face, the shaved head and the rippling ebony muscles of the bare torso. His cock stiffened, and then the voice came again. "Hey, man, stop whacking off and open the fucking gate, will ya?"

Grady snapped back to life and punched the button for the gate. A few seconds later the same two riders roared down the drive on their bikes and Grady went out to meet them. The older of the two, the master he guessed, was wearing the same leather pants as before but this time he had on a black leather vest flapping open over his sculpted chest. His boy was wearing a studded black leather harness crossed over his chest.

Trying to stay calm Grady said, "Er, Steve and Lloyd are not home. My name's Grady."

Zack roared with laughter. "Hell, I know that. Everyone knows who the hell you are, stud. My boy here talks about nothing else with his buddies. You're famous before you're famous. So we thought we'd get to know you before you become a big star and won't want to know us."

"Oh no," Grady shook his head seriously. "You got me all wrong. I'd never turn my back on my friends. I don't even wanna be famous. It scares the shit out of me."

Grady glanced at the boy and saw the big brown eyes dancing with fun and mischief. He recognized a kindred spirit and relaxed a bit. "The name's Darius," the boy grinned, "and this rude man here who hasn't bothered to introduce himself is my master Zack." Zack banged the back of his head and said, "Watch your lip, boy."

"Sorry, sir," Darius said with fake humility, still grinning at Grady.

"So like I said, big guy," Zack said, "we want to know you better so we came up here to take you down to my place for a beer." It was more an order than an invitation and Grady couldn't imagine denying this man anything. "Here..." Zack unhooked a helmet from his saddle and tossed it to Grady. "Put this on and climb aboard. Let's go, buddy, move it."

Grady hesitated. "I should leave a note for Steve `cos he'll worry if I'm not here. See the press is kinda ..."

"No sweat, man, Steve knows where you are." Grady sensed Steve's controlling hand behind this as he recalled him saying, `It's about time you met some of the other guys of the tribe...'

"Do I have to spell it out for you, Tarzan?" Zack grinned. "Lock the fucking door, put on the helmet, jump on behind me and hold on tight. No paparazzi will ever be looking for a guy on the back of a motorbike with a helmet covering his face. Come to think of it, great disguise. You should wear it always. " With another roar of laughter Zack waited for Grady to do as ordered, then kick started the bike and they took off.

As they sped along Mulholland and down the winding hill Grady held on breathlessly, his arms wrapped round the black muscle-stud's tight waist, his fingers digging into the iron-hard ridges of his eight-pack abs. Grady's pulsing cock pressed against his back and he had the strange impression of losing all control, kidnapped by a powerful leather master. Or was that just his over-active fantasy kicking in again?

A short time later he was looking around Zack's small house. He had gone to the bathroom to take a leak and poked his head into the bedroom. The atmosphere was heavy with male testosterone and man sex, the bed strewn with sweaty clothes, underwear, jock straps, and the odor of sweat and semen permeated the air as if the master had just fucked his boy there.

When Grady went back out to the small garden Zack was sprawled in an Adirondack chair and Darius had brought out cold beers and now sat beside his master. Grady sat opposite them and flinched slightly under the intense scrutiny of the black leather master. He glanced away and noticed a lone rope with a lock at the end, hanging from a tree branch.

But he regained his composure as they drank beer and started to chat. At first the conversation was casual, with Darius doing most of the talking, asking questions about technical aspects of the studio. When he told Grady he often worked as assistant director on Hassan's Marine video shoots, Grady suggested, "Hey, maybe you'd like to come to the studio sometime and watch a major motion picture in production." Darius's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "That would be totally awesome, sir."

While they talked Zack remained silent, but then brusquely interrupted Darius's flow of questions. "Yeah, well I didn't bring you down here just for a cozy chat about showbiz, Grady. They tell me you like to get your ass fucked." Dead silence as Grady got over the abruptness of the question and Darius grinned roguishly. Grady gulped and stammered, "Well, I, er ..."

"Ah, no need to answer. I've heard about your sexual exploits with Steve and Lloyd, then getting your ass pounded by Mark, Hassan and Pete. That ass of yours has been getting around and I'm envious, especially of my buddy Randy when he tied you up and practically raped you. I was curious about your ass, which is the real reason I brought you here. Let me show you something. Darius?"

Darius knew the part he had to play. He got up and stood in front of Grady who remained seated, his face level with the boy's crotch. Darius unzipped his leather pants and lowered them slowly. His wiry black pubic hair appeared first, then the base of his cock. The length of the thick cock became visible slowly – inch ... by inch ... by inch.

Grady gaped in awe ... it seemed it would never stop until finally the head appeared and the cock sprang out – all ten inches of it, a massive black club that made Grady flinch. Instinctively he leaned forward and licked it, from the head upward until his face was buried in the curly black mass of the black boy's sweaty pubic hair. Then he pulled back and said, "I ... I could never take a rod like that in my ass, it's way too ..."

"I'll be the judge of that," Zack snapped. "Stand up, man, and strip naked."

There was no refusing this man so, while Darius stood beside Zack, Grady stood up, pulled his tank off over his head and dropped it on the ground. "Wow," Darius gasped, staring at the muscle-jock's muscular torso for the first time. Grady pulled open his shorts, let them drop and stood naked except for black briefs, where the shape of his hard cock was unmistakable.

"Shit," Darius said, "that's just like the billboard, only better. Man that is so cool – like pornographic art."

Zack stood up, took off his leather vest and faced Grady, fixing him with his exotic gray eyes and flexing his pecs and shoulders as if it were a contest of male beauty – which in a way it was. Zack walked forward and growled, "I said naked, stud." He went behind him and pulled down his briefs. "Holy shit," he moaned. "Hey, kid, come and get a look at this." Darius joined him and gasped as he stared at the solid white globes rising up from the tan line at his waist. "What an ass! Can I have it, sir?" he asked Zack.

Zack chuckled. "All in good time boy. Tie his wrists." Too shocked to resist Grady felt his wrists pulled behind him and bound together with rope. Zack paced in front of him running lustful eyes over the magnificent body, running his hands over his chest, tweaking his nipples, grabbing his chin and turning his head from side to side to see him from every angle.

His fantasy aroused, Grady saw himself as a slave at auction being inspected by the black slave master, prior to buying this specimen himself and keeping him as a fuck save. Holding his chin, Zack stared into his eyes. "They also tell me you like being tied up and fucked, like my pal Randy did to you. But I bet they haven't done this yet."

From under a chair he pulled a black studded leather collar and buckled it round Grady's neck. Grady stared at the gray eyes set in the square cut, rugged features and realized that he was Zack's prisoner. The black leather master could do anything to him – and that thought almost made him bust a load. Zack pulled him by the collar to the branch he had noticed and Grady heard a click behind him as Zack connected the lock at the rope's end to the ring in his collar.

Instinctively Grady walked forward but had only gone few steps when the rope went taut and jerked his neck back. Zack grinned at him. "See, big guy, only I can unlock your collar, which I will do ... when I'm good and finished with you."

Then suddenly, "Hey, buddy. Sorry, I didn't know you were having a party." The voice came from the side of the house where a man emerged ... Randy!

A jolt of fear went through Grady and he tugged at his wrists, but Randy barely glanced at him. "I told Bob I'd meet him here after work, thought we'd have a drink together, but I see you're busy so I can come back later."

"Nah, stay," Zack grinned as they bumped fists. "Have a seat and grab one of those beers. I was just about to introduce this man's ass to my boy's horse dick."

Grady stared at Randy as he sprawled in a chair, still dressed in his usual work clothes – ragged old tank, grubby jeans and boots. He sat there swigging beer, some of it dribbling down his chin so he wiped the back off his hand across his mouth. His other hand was resting on the bulge in his pants as he glanced casually at the bound man.

Grady realized then just how much he wanted this man, though he would never confess it. But he blushed as he realized that Randy would be a witness to his treatment by the leather master and his boy's massive dick. But he was saved that indignity by another new voice.

"Oops, sorry. I didn't realize you had company. What, you just here for the free beer, Randy? Ah," looking for the first time at Grady, "so this is the guy."

Grady felt his knees go weak as he gazed at the stylishly dressed business executive. It had to be Bob he had heard so much about, the guy everyone spoke of with reverence, and he remembered Brandon's words – `Randy and Bob are the bosses of the tribe'. They had hinted at how handsome he was but this man was beyond all his expectations.

He was stunning, with his chiseled, masculine features, strong jaw, tousled dark hair and smiling brown eyes. His business suit couldn't hide the obviously muscular body underneath, and his tall, confident bearing denoted his status as a leader. Formally dressed as he was he still oozed sexuality, a homoerotic vision of the alpha male executive.

Bob took off his jacket, swung it over his shoulder, and loosened his tie, and the contours of his sculpted body were now clearly etched under the white shirt. His soft brown eyes looked straight at Grady who had to turn his head away to prevent embarrassing himself by cumming.

What amazed Grady most was that this was Randy's lover. He had expected a roughneck like Randy, another rugged construction worker with the same swarthy gypsy features. But no, this man was the very antithesis of that – well-groomed, sophisticated, looking like he had stepped from the pages of GC Magazine, while Randy had crawled out from a cave. What could they possibly have in common? Grady was soon to find out.

Randy stood up, opened his arms wide and Bob walked forward to a bear-hug embrace. Their lips met in a seemingly endless kiss, where Randy ground his mouth ferociously against Bob's. Grady watched spellbound as they finally broke apart but their eyes remained locked.

"Don't leave, buddy," Randy said. "You know how much you turn me on when you come home from work looking like that. `Course, I could drag you across the street to our house rip your clothes off and make love to you there but I don't think I'd get that far without busting my load." He grinned at Zack. "You won't mind if we interrupt your festivities for a while, eh Buddy?"

"Only if me and my boy get to watch," Zack laughed. "Not often we get to do that with you two."

"Deal," Randy grinned. He sat back down in the chair, picked up his beer and stared up at his lover. "OK, buddy, turn me on like you always do."

Bob knew exactly what was going on. This was all for Grady. Bob knew how scared Randy had been of what would happen when Bob first met Grady – "scared that if this guy ever meets you he'll fall in love with you as everyone does and you'll fall for him," Randy had said. So now, at their first meeting, Randy was in control as he always was. He was demonstrating to Grady that Bob belonged to him, his prized possession, and any man who wanted him had to go through Randy first.

Plus he was showing off – first that he, Randy, had a lover as spectacular as Bob. Also, Bob knew how Randy lusted for Grady but, after their first disastrous meeting where he had shamelessly beaten Grady and paid the humiliating price, his pride would never let him admit his desire. But Randy could sure as hell show Grady what he was missing.

So Bob indulged Randy and put on a show for Grady. And he had to admit to himself that he too was showing off to this handsome newcomer, letting him see that he was worshipped by the homoerotic gypsy boss who was sexually irresistible to all men – including Grady.

So Bob began the routine so familiar to Randy, one that seduced him every time as much as the first. Grady was spellbound watching the handsome executive take off his work clothes. Bob loosened his tie and let it hang round his neck. Then he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, giving glimpses of his chest until it hung open and revealed his rock-hard pecs. He pulled the shirttails out and let them hang and Grady inhaled raggedly as he stared at the slabs of his pecs, the washboard abs and the slim waist ending at the elegant belt round his dress pants.

Randy was still rubbing the bulge in his pants while he took another long gulp of beer. His eyes gleamed as Bob finally shrugged off his shirt and stood before him stripped the waist. "Aaah." The exclamation came not for Randy but from Grady as he saw Bob shirtless for the first time. Flawless, incredible, his lats slanting down from broad shoulders to his tight waist and his smiling eyes fixed on Randy.

Randy responded by jumping up and stroking his lover's chest, pinching his nipples, and saying softly, "Perfect, so fucking beautiful. I love you, man." He dropped to his knees and subserviently pulled off Bob's shoes and socks, then unbuckled his belt and unzipped the suit pants. He pulled out Bob's long rigid cock and, in an act of worship, licked the head, then the whole shaft. Grady stared in disbelief. Was the macho gypsy so in love with the man that he was going to submit to him, surrender his ass to the cock he was making love to?

Randy pulled down Bob's pants and shorts and Bob stepped out of them. Randy got up, took a step back and gazed at the muscle-god standing naked before him, their eyes burning into each other's. Grady's heart was beating wildly as he watched, longing to see the construction boss naked like his lover. Even when Randy had fucked him so brutally he had been wearing his work clothes and many times Grady had fantasized how he must look naked.

At last Randy pulled his tank off over his head, kicked off his boots, ripped open his pants and let them drop. His body was magnificent, the muscularity a tribute to years of hard labor on many construction sites. The two naked lovers stared at each other, then came together in a hard-body embrace, mouth on mouth, muscle on muscle, crotch against crotch. Again Grady looked away to prevent an instant orgasm as he tried to imagine who would be on top when they made love.

When he looked back they had parted and the mood changed. Randy's steely blue eyes lasered onto Bob's and his deep voice growled, "On your knees, man." Obediently Bob fell to his knees on all fours, his head facing Grady, his ass offered to Randy. Randy spat on his hand and rubbed the spit over his massive, beer-can thick shaft. He knelt behind Bob and pressed the head of his cock between Bob's ass cheeks. "You know what's coming, man," Randy said. "You want it bad, don't you?"

"Yes, sir ... please, sir. Please fuck me, sir. I need to feel your rod in my ass."

Grady was blown away, hearing this glorious man, this macho alpha male begging to get fucked by the gypsy ... calling him sir. The only other time he had heard a handsome, muscle-god like this beg to get ass-fucked ... was himself, and he could almost hear himself begging Randy."

"Here it comes, man," Randy growled. "This is what you need." He grabbed Bob's hips, his biceps bulged ... and in one savage move pulled his ass back onto his cock, driving it deep inside and finally coming to rest in the inner furnace of his ass.

"Aaaagh!" Bob's screams echoed round the garden and his head reared up so Grady got a clear looking into the writhing face and tortured eyes. Then "aaagh" as Randy pulled all the way out and slammed his cock back in, harder than before. He paused, caressed the hot ass slowly, then, without warning, plunged in again. This time Bob reared up on his knees and Randy instantly clamped his arm round his throat from behind as his cock pistoned inside him.

Grady gasped as he watched the beautiful man, the self-assured, powerful executive, getting jack-hammered by the savage gypsy, his ass impaled on his massive cock, his head trapped in a savage chin-lock, Randy's flexed bicep pressing against his neck. He watched every muscle in Randy's body ripple and flex as he pounded ass ... and Grady knew what he wanted. He wanted to be Bob, begging this wild gypsy to fuck him, feeling his rod pile-driving his ass.

Spellbound he watched the master at work, alternately pounding Bob's ass then caressing it. Bob was being driven wild, not knowing when the next brutal thrust would come – fearing it, longing for it. He was totally in Randy's power. Grady was witnessing the truth of Steve's words about Randy – `the hottest fuck in creation'.

The Grady cried out loud as suddenly Randy looked up at him, the steel blue eyes piercing him, his stubbled jaw clenched, face wincing as he poured all his strength into Bob's ass. There was a look of triumph in Randy's eyes, as if he were fucking Grady. Grady saw the effect on Bob, a wild mix of pain and ecstasy, and he knew how he felt – felt what he felt.

He walked forward as far as the rope would allow, tugging on his collar and his bound wrists in a futile attempt to touch Bob's face. Hypnotized by Randy's eyes he became Bob, getting fucked by his lover, feeling the pain, loving it, giving his ass to Randy. Randy spoke into Bob's ear but stared at Grady. "Now you're gonna cum, man. You know I can make you cum whenever I want, and I want it now. Do it now ... now ... now!"

Grady heard two screams, his own and Bob's as their cocks erupted at the same time. Grady saw his own cum blast from his cock straight into Bob's face as Bob shot his own massive load on Grady's legs and feet. As Bob opened his mouth to scream he swallowed a stream of sperm shooting from Grady's cock. The juice ran down his face and dripped from his sagging jaw.

They were both sobbing, tears streaking their faces, as Randy withdrew his arm from around Bob's neck and pulled his cock out of his ass. He kissed the nape of his neck, then stared hard at Grady and stood up, towering over both men, arms folded across his chest, with a look of arrogant triumph in his steel blue eyes.

A few minutes later Grady was slumped against the tree, eyes closed, gathering his breath and his scattered wits. Suddenly he felt Zack's breath on his neck and his deep voice murmuring in his ear. "I'm gonna untie your hands, stud, and in exchange you're gonna take my boy's dick, all ten inches, in your ass after these guys have left. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir ... thank you sir." Grady felt the ropes fall from his wrists and walked forward as far as the collar round his neck would allow. He could still not touch the two men as he wanted to so badly, but he could now touch his own cock, which he did, his fist curling round it.

What he saw on the ground was quite different from the previous scene but, in its way, even more exciting. Bob was on his back, his legs raised, offering his ass again to the now smiling man kneeling before him. They were staring into each other's eyes like they were in another world that blocked out everything but each other. Bob said softly, "Make love to me, Randy. Make love to my ass. Own me..."

Grady stroked his own cock hard as he watched Randy lean forward and press his hands on Bob's chest. He saw Bob sigh deeply as Randy slid his cock gently into his ass, easing it in slowly until his balls were pressing against his lover's ass. Bob reached up and traced his hands round the muscular contours of Randy's chest. "I love you man," Randy said softly as he pulled his thick shaft back, then eased it back inside Bob's beautiful ass.

Grady saw their eyes glaze over, lost in each other's gaze. It was as if they had become one man, lost in their own magical world known only to them. And it was then that Grady finally understood what Randy and Bob had in common, quite apart from their stunning beauty. They were in love... a love of such intensity as Grady had never seen before. These two glorious men were inseparable lovers ... of course they were

Mesmerized by the erotic scene Grady stroked his cock harder as he watched their love breathe like a living being, strong, powerful and indestructible. Grady had never really been in love – too obsessed by physical beauty – but now he was consumed by a need for love. He wanted Randy and Bob – he wanted to make love to the handsome, gentle Bob and, most of all, he wanted to surrender himself to Randy, the wildly erotic gypsy whose sexual magnetism pulled him into his orbit and held him captive.

Randy was now pinning Bob's arms to the ground as he intensified the rhythm of his cock in his ass. The handsome executive was now totally submissive to the dark demon gypsy and gazed at him in adoration. "Oh yeah ... fuck me, man ... you own my ass ... it belongs to you. Fuck me ... fuck me ... fuck me ... let me cum for you, sir ... let me feel your juice in my ass."

Randy smiled in response. He pulled his cock back and teased his ass with short strokes before finally pushing it slowly down the chute, farther and farther until it eased over the sensitive inner sphincter and ... "aaah". They both sighed deeply, their bodies shuddered and they erupted together, Randy in the cauldron of his lover's ass, Bob spurting ribbons of semen over his own magnificent chest.

Grady was pulling his neck frantically against his collar and pounding his cock in his fist. He wanted desperately to be Bob, knew exactly what he was feeling as he gazed up at the swarthy face, the pale blue eyes, and felt the huge shaft filling his ass. Then suddenly both men turned their heads sideways and stared straight up at him, their faces glowing in the throes of passion.

Dazzled by the sight of the two spectacular lovers Grady howled as his cock blasted semen that splashed onto both upturned faces. They turned back to each other and licked Grady's semen from their faces as he kept pumping juice over them. When his cock was spent he fell to his knees with tears running down his cheeks. Maybe now, he thought ... now, maybe Randy would turn his attention to him and fuck him – maybe they would both fuck him – maybe they...

But his hopes were dashed as Randy pulled free and stood up, shaking his dick, the last drops of cum splashing on Grady's face. He put out his tongue frantically but those few drops were all he was going to get. He swallowed them like a man drinking the last drops of water in the desert.

Randy pulled Bob to his feet and stared into his eyes. "I'm not finished with you yet, man. We'll see what you can take tied to the bed. Hey, Zack, toss me that rope." Zack threw him the rope that had bound Grady's wrists and Randy looped it round Bob's neck. He winked at Zack. "Just making sure this handsome buck here don't get away from me."

Grady's dick was already getting stiff as he watched Randy lead the naked muscle-god away. Just before they disappeared round the corner Randy turned his head and his eyes flashed at Grady, a look of triumph that made it clear he was the undisputed boss, and Bob was his man.

Grady felt he had once again been raped and dominated by Randy, even though this time he had not laid a finger on him. Such was Randy's power and the depth of Grady's lust for him. Still on his knees Grady dropped his head in an act of surrender to him.

A few minutes later he felt a hand under his chin pushing his face up. He found himself staring at the crotches of two leather-clad men, the one with a bulge straining under the leather, the other with ten inches of horsemeat hanging out of his pants.

Grady looked up at the rugged black face as Zack said, "OK, now where were we?"

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 276

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!