A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 290 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER: Randy teaches the arrogant Golden Boy a lesson. The boy dictates, "No pain, domination, bondage, nothing like that. And I definitely do not get fucked. I'm a top man." Randy's eyes gleamed. "Well now boy, I think we got ourselves a deal here. Ya'll sound like just the kinda guy we need, don't ya think Bob?" Like a tiger toying with his prey Randy reduces Golden Boy to a sobbing wreck.

Chapter 290 – "RANDY CUTS THE GOLDEN BOY DOWN TO SIZE"

Bob and Randy had got out of town, down the coast to a five-star luxury hotel for a weekend of rest and recuperation – good food, good living and, as Bob made a point of noting, 400 thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets. The sheets were immediately put to the test and Bob gave his verdict: "No doubt about it, buddy, a layer of jism sure improves the feel of Egyptian cotton no matter how you count the threads."

The only discordant note was the young assistant manager who checked them in. He was deferential to Bob, the handsome business executive, but looked down his nose at the long-haired stubble-chin gypsy in jeans and boots.

Bob pegged the man as a quintessential California Golden Boy, very aware of his looks and making no concessions to those he considered beneath him – like this swarthy gypsy. His name was Thomas and he would have been quite sexy, Bob thought, if only we weren't so ... precise, so studied. The guy needed to `man up', as Randy later said. He should rough himself up a bit – or let someone do it for him.

What really pissed Bob off was his arrogance toward Randy. When they made a reservation for dinner the Golden Boy looked condescendingly at the T-shirt-and-jeans gypsy and said with a distinct hint of sarcasm, "There is a dress code in the dining room, sir. Jackets are required."

Bob held his breath thinking Randy might slug him. But Randy rose to the occasion with a dazzling smile and spoke in an exaggerated backwoods version of his Texas drawl. "Well now, I did not know that. Thanks for the heads-up, Tommy."

"Thomas, sir. My name's Thomas"

"Sure thing," Randy drawled. "A jacket, eh? Glad you told me, Tommy, I appreciate that. See I'm a construction worker and most of the time I don't even wear a damn shirt. Shit, ya'll should see me on the work site, sweatin' like a pig all day. But I promise you I will make every effort to find me a jacket and ... tell you what ... why don't you look in at the restaurant later, Tom, and check me out. And if I don't pass muster you have my permission to throw my sorry ass right out the door. Hell, there's always McDonald's."

With just a few words, and a pair of steel blue eyes, the young man had been demolished.

There were several more such encounters, which Randy took in stride. "See, buddy," he said to Bob, "trouble with a guy like that is he's so full of himself and his looks, his fucking tan and his perfect blond hair, that he can't stand it when he sees two totally gorgeous men he can't have. "So he does what guys like him have always done. It's that old cliché – `find a flaw, find a flaw'. And god knows I got flaws, like my lousy dress sense and my hillbilly accent."

But Randy's casual attitude changed when they were out by the pool and Thomas belittled a new young waiter with a scathing reprimand. As the boy blinked nervously behind his black rimmed glasses Bob and Randy both flashed on Brandon whom the boy resembled. When Thomas waved him away with a contemptuous finger snap the boy turned and walked straight into an umbrella pole. With a panicked look at Thomas – "Sorry, sir, sorry" – he stumbled off.

"Sorry about that, gentlemen," Thomas smirked. "He's a new boy – in training. I'll make sure he doesn't bother you again." He sashayed away to reprimand the boy.

"OK that does it," Randy growled softly. "No mercy for the fucker from now on." Having raised and nurtured his young brothers Randy had zero tolerance for mistreatment of vulnerable young guys. It was a surefire way to provoke his anger, as it did now.

Bob later had a quiet word with the boy, Danny. Flashing his warmest smile he reassured him, "I wouldn't worry about that, Danny. I think my friend will be having a little chat with Thomas later and after that I have a feeling he will be much kinder to you. In fact I'm sure of it."

As it happened Randy was not thrown out of the restaurant that evening. On the contrary, the maître d' treated them with a deference reserved for royalty, which to some eyes they were. After dinner they went back to their moonlit ocean-view suite and had spectacular sex.

When it was over Bob was still tied to a chair and Randy was about to release him when the door buzzer sounded. Randy grinned, "Two guesses, dude," and yelled, "Come in!" In came Thomas and stood rooted to the spot, staring at the two naked muscle-gods – one standing, his cock dripping cum, the other sitting tied to a chair, his face and chest smothered in what the gypsy guy's cock had evidently just blasted down on him.

The backwoods Texas voice drawled, "Hey, Tommy. Whassup, dude?" Golden Boy found his voice and, in the understatement of the year, stammered, "Er, sorry, not the best timing maybe."

"Well now, that's not true old buddy. Quite the reverse actually ... me and my buddy had just finished. Wait a sec while I untie him." Randy unbuckled Bob's restraints.

"I, er ...I was just getting off duty and thought I'd drop by to see if you need anything ... cocktails or anything." Randy and Bob couldn't miss the huge boner in Thomas's too-tight pants

"Well as you see, Tom, we got ourselves a few cocktails of our own going on here, but you are sure welcome to join us."

"By the way," Bob asked, rubbing his sore wrists. "How's that new waiter doing that we met by the pool? Danny, isn't it?"

"I'm glad you asked, sir, and I have to apologize for him. I saw him bothering you, sitting and talking to you. He knows that fraternizing with guests is strictly against the rules. I reprimanded him and it won't happen again. If it does, he's fired."

Randy saw Bob clench his fists and start to rise, but he gripped his shoulder and pushed him back down. "Well, Tommy, I commend you, that is just as it should be. Can't have the peons bothering the honored guests, can we? Say, Tom, I'm gonna level with you here. As you see me and my buddy are having ourselves a little party and we'd sure like you to join us. We was saying earlier that you are a fine figure of a man – well turned out and all. You go to the gym?"

"Every day, sir," Thomas said, with conceit rather than pride.

"So whad'ya say, stud? You in the mood for a little fun?

Thomas tossed his head. "I don't think so, sir." He turned to leave and Randy shrugged, "Suit yourself."

Thomas hesitated and turned round. "On, er ... on the other hand, I do occasionally offer, er, extra-curricular services to select guests – strictly off-duty of course."

"Oh you do? Our lucky day. Extra-curricular services, eh Bob? Sounds like a whole bunch of fun. I think we could go for some of them. Matter of fact, Tom, I did notice ya'll getting kinda chummy with some of the older guys in the dining room."

"Not against the rules, I hope," Bob said sourly. "Not fraternizing or anything."

"Actually, sir, some of the older gentlemen appreciate visits from a man like me and tip very generously. However, if I do agree to stay, I do have ground rules."

"Well let's hear them, Tommy. Shoot."

"I limit sessions to an hour – two at most. No pain, domination, bondage, nothing like that. And I definitely do not get fucked. Never have. I'm a top man."

Randy's eyes gleamed. "A top man, you hear that Bob? Right up your alley, eh?"

"A dream come true," Bob deadpanned.

Randy looked quizzically at Thomas. "Say, OK if we was to muss your hair up a bit, Tommy?"

"Er ... yes, I can go along with that."

"Well now Tommy I think we got ourselves a deal here. We can have a whole lot of fun. Ya'll sound like just the kinda guy we need. I think he'll fit in right well, don't you, Bob?"

"A match made in heaven," Bob said, careful not to catch Randy's eye.

Thomas shifted uncomfortably, suddenly less sure of himself and this man. He might be a rough, blue-collar laborer, little better than a gypsy, but Thomas was thinking maybe he shouldn't judge him just for his crude accent and lack of sophistication. Well, he had dealt with men like this before and put them in their place. Only problem was, this one disturbed him and he couldn't deny the stiffening of his dick when the man stared at him with those pale blue eyes.

Needless to say, Randy was feeling no such discomfort. He was having too much fun – and maybe showing off to Bob a little? He was always showing off to Bob – plus he had seen Bob's anger at Golden Boy's attitude toward the young waiter, an anger Randy shared.

"Well now, Tommy, what say we even things up a bit round here?" While Bob watched in amusement from his chair Randy opened his arms wide and displayed his superb body, not to mention the long horse-dick swinging between his thighs. "See here am I, naked as a newborn babe" (not the most fitting analogy, Bob thought) "and there are you all dressed up in that spiffy uniform. So what's wrong with this picture, Tom?"

"Are you saying you want to watch me take my clothes off, sir? Don't be shy, a lot of my gentlemen enjoy masturbating while they watch me strip. They ejaculate just staring at my naked physique – no contact required."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," Bob huffed from his chair. "No contact?"

Randy threw him a cautionary glance, stifling a grin. "Now hold on there, buddy. You gotta admit, Tommy's the expert around here, so let's just sit back and enjoy while he struts his stuff. After all, we gotta get a good look at what we're paying good money for – check out the merchandise, so to speak."

Thomas blushed. "Sir, I wouldn't characterize this as `merchandise' ..."

"And you'd be damn right, boy," Randy cut in, then turned to Bob with a look of reprimand. "God dammit, buddy, why do you always let me run off at the mouth like that, insultin' folks and all?"

"Sorry, Randy," Bob muttered, keeping a straight face with the greatest difficulty. "Maybe, as you said, we should just sit back and enjoy, eh?" Clenching his jaw and glaring at Randy Bob got out of his chair, grabbed his arm, squeezed it hard and steered him to the bed. They sat shoulder to shoulder on the end of the bed, leaned back on their elbows and watched.

"Music, sirs?"

"Why not," Bob said. Thomas walked to the entertainment console at the other end of the suite and searched through the menu.

Bob grinned at Randy and said quietly, "Having fun, aren't you?"

"And you're not?"

"Just don't go too hard on him, buddy."

Randy's eyes flashed angrily and Bob realized, not for the first time, that nobody told him how to discipline a man. This was Randy territory.

"Now don't go soft on me and start to feel sorry for the pretentious young prick. The man's a mother-fucker and I said no mercy. I don't care that he treated me like something the cat dragged in, but just remember how he shredded that kid Danny. Anyway, I'm just toying with the son of a bitch. He's lucky I'm not shoving my fist up his ass." Suddenly his expression softened and he added, "We gotta do something for that young kid, by the way."

And that was Randy, Bob thought and pressed his shoulder lightly against him. A dominant, powerful man, he could be merciless to guys he disliked and, in the next breath, as kind and compassionate to a wounded boy as anyone Bob had ever met. But suddenly Bob's loving thoughts were interrupted by the sound of disco music crashing on.

Bob winced. "Not disco, Thomas," he called out. "Can you find some light jazz or something?" And then under his breath to Randy, "And when the fuck are we gonna fuck? Too much foreplay and not enough play."

"Down, tiger, "Randy grinned. "It's all in the plan. You'll get yours. Don't I always take care of you?"

Having found the jazz channel Thomas was ready to go to work. At least, usually it was work but, unlike his other gentlemen' gigs, which simply padded his vanity and his wallet, Thomas found himself wanting to really please these two men, and not for the aforementioned generous tip' either. Sure, he told himself as he walked back to the bedroom, one of them was a working-class gypsy, way beneath him socially and clearly out of his depth in a luxury hotel like this, but there was nothing wrong with a bit of rough occasionally was there? Might be amusing.

Thomas's prejudices and delusions of grandeur were deeply ingrained and he would be a hard nut to crack. But Randy already knew that. When the man reappeared Randy said coarsely, "OK, Tommy, let's have it. Take it off – take it all off, while me and my buddy here jack off."

Thomas was momentarily taken aback, but not by Randy's boorishness which, he thought, was only to be expected. It was the sight of the two naked muscle-gods, propped up on one elbow side by side, their free hand stroking their dicks that were already getting hard before he had even taken his jacket off, which he attributed to his own sexual charisma. He wasn't to know that Bob and Randy had boners whenever they were close together, especially on a bed.

With smooth jazz playing in the background Thomas went to work, slowly taking off his uniform jacket and draping it over a chair. The men got a better sense of his upper body now which they both thought looked promising – nicely contoured under the tight shirt that he had obviously had tailored to fit.

"Not bad," murmured Randy out of the side of his mouth, then loudly, "Looking good, ya'll. Show us that hot bod." Bob winced even though he knew the crassness was fake.

Thomas had evidently had plenty of experience at stripping in front of men. He loosened his tie, undid the top two buttons of his shirt, unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. "Hmm," Bob murmured appreciatively at the more casual look. "Not so buttoned-down, literally."

Thomas undid his tie, let it hang down over the shirt, and began very slowly to unbutton the shirt all the way down. He let it fall open to expose the cleft between his rounded pecs, giving a glimpse also of his nicely etched abs. "Hey," Randy murmured to Bob, "promising. Maybe we're gonna enjoy this more than we thought."

Thomas did not hear these spoken asides, given the music and his narcissistic concentration on himself. As his shirt flapped open he continued to tease by turning his back to them, putting his hands deep in his pants pocket and stretching them over the perfect globes of his ass. "Jesus," Randy muttered, "let's hurry this fucker up." Then out loud. "Lose the shirt, Tommy."

Golden Boy, living up to the name more and more, turned round, pulled his shirt-tails out of his waistband and shrugged the shirt back on his shoulders, now exposing his chest and abs to the full. "Off, off, off," Randy chanted and Thomas, like a practiced stripper, let the shirt fall from his shoulders, slide down his arms and fall to the floor.

"Very nice," Bob murmured. His torso was slim but perfectly proportioned – a swimmer's build, smooth, tanned golden. Not especially tall he was delicately boned and the definition was amazing, not an ounce of fat on his body. "You do gymnastics?" Bob asked.

"I swim, do gymnastics and some ice-skating," Thomas said, as if reciting from his résumé. The effect of that exercise became even more evident as he turned his back to them again, unbuckled his belt, and slowly, seductively lowered his pants and briefs below his ass. It was an ice-skater's butt, no doubt about that – two solid, pure white globes that rose in a graceful curve from the tan line at his slim waist.

Randy's eyes opened wide and he drawled, "Will ya'll look at that ... man, I gotta get me a piece o' that ass."

Bob hissed from the side of his mouth, "Hey, Tex, you can drop the cornball accent. This is me you're talking to."

"I gotta stay in character, dude," Randy hissed back."

Thomas remained oblivious of their murmured asides, concentrating as he was on reaching the climax of his striptease. He kicked off his shoes let his pants drop and stepped out of them butt naked. He gazed up at the ceiling and threw his arms out in the triumphant gesture of a gymnast on landing – except Bob was somehow reminded instead of the Rockettes.

Without making eye contact with the men Thomas walked gracefully around the room, letting his lithe muscles speak for themselves as he moved under the spotlights, catching glimpses of himself in the wall mirrors – a California Golden Boy in action.

Randy curled his forefinger and thumb in his mouth and gave a shrill, coarse whistle of appreciation. Then, as Thomas flaunted his body, especially to himself in the mirrors, Randy asked Bob, "Whad'ya think buddy. Fuckable, don't ya think?"

Bob frowned and replied softly, "I dunno. Pretty body but, somehow ... strangely unsexy. Too much into himself – arrogant, narcissistic, too much attitude like a look-don't-touch stripper. Not that there's anything wrong with narcissism – it can be real sexy in someone like our calendar fireman Jason. `Course Jason is drop-dead gorgeous but when he gets off on his own reflection he does it with a sense of humor – it's fun and a total turn-on. Golden Boy here somehow leaves me cold. Like the saying goes, all that glitters isn't gold."

"Hm, maybe him being an obnoxious mother-fucker also has something to do with it," Randy grinned. "Wait, here comes the big finish. This is where we're both supposed to get our rocks off. OK, buddy, follow my lead."

They both stroked their cocks as they stared up at Thomas who was now standing six feet away from the foot of the bed. He glanced down at them briefly, but then looked up in admiration at his own reflection in the mirror. He pinched his own nipples, flexed his muscles and smiled, "Yeah, do it, man." He launched into a posing routine, a time-honored way for guys like this to turn on their gentlemen clients and make them cum, without any actual physical contact.

It was, incidentally, also a common practice among the men and boys back home, and if this had been, say, Mark or Jason, showing of their spectacular bodies in front of them they would have busted huge loads within minutes. But Thomas? Mmm, not so much.

In fact, such was his arrogance and his exaggerated opinion of his own body and sexual allure, that his act became almost laughable ... certainly not something that would result in panting orgasms, followed immediately by Thomas picking up his money and going home.

As they stroked their semi-hard dicks listlessly Bob said ironically out of the side of his mouth. "You close, buddy?"

"This is fucking bullshit," Randy hissed. "I don't mind being insulted by this asshole and treated like something that crawled out of the woodwork, but one thing I can't take is being bored by the fucker. Time to show this shit-for-brains punk who's the boss around here."

"I was wondering when you'd get around to that, big guy. You took your time."

"Ah, just having a little fun with him, seeing how much of an asshole he really is. Turns out he's a bigger prick than we thought. Let's take him down, man. Round One.

The Texas drawl made a brief reappearance. "Looking mighty fine there, Tommy. Ya'll's body is worth the price of admission alone. Me and my buddy here sure get off watching you flauntin' it like that. I'd put my hands on it if I could but I know you got your rules – look don't touch – and I respect that in a man. It's real classy. But don't you worry, none, `cos I got my man right here if I need to cop a feel. You just go on struttin' your stuff there, big guy."

Randy put his arm round Bob's neck and pulled his face toward him. "Give me a taste of the real thing, buddy," he muttered and they clamped their mouths together in a grinding kiss, complete with sounds effects that were not lost on Thomas. He tore his eyes away from the mirror and looked down at the two muscle-gods locked in a passionate embrace.

His confidence started to erode. This was not in the script ... they were supposed to be jacking off looking at him, not getting off on each other. He stroked his dick harder, looked at his reflection in the mirror and tried to distract the men by groaning loudly and theatrically. "Yeah, man, that looks hot. Fuck, man, you're gorgeous."

Randy pulled off Bob's mouth and, mocking Thomas's own words with a roguish grin, said out loud to Bob, "Man, you look so hot ... fucking gorgeous." Golden Boy felt it all slipping away as he gave up trying to compete and stared at the men who seemed lost in each other's eyes. Randy said to Bob, "Hey, buddy, how about you suck my dick while I get off looking at Tommy here?"

Only too willing to play the role he always loved Bob slid to his knees on the floor between Randy's legs splayed over the edge of the bed. Randy was leaning back propped on his elbows and looking down at Bob. His massive cock was now rock hard ... and Thomas couldn't take his eyes off it as Bob leaned forward and licked it, all the way up from the mass of curly black pubic hair to the very tip where he sucked in the pre-cum oozing out of the hole. He opened his mouth wide and lowered it over the huge shaft, taking it all the way down his throat.

Thomas could not believe what he was seeing – this beautiful alpha male on his knees, sucking cock, his Superman face buried in the gypsy's sweaty black pubic hair. He was a top man, wasn't he? Had to be. Yet here he was sucking the dick of this ... this rough construction worker who was way inferior to him. Thomas was confused. What is the man thinking? He could have anyone he wanted – me, even. Especially me.

Suddenly Randy looked up from Bob and transferred his gaze to Thomas. "Hey, Tommy, why'd you stop? I said I wanna look at you getting off on yourself while my buddy here sucks my dick. Ya'll was looking damn hot there before you stopped."

Thomas tried to pick up where he had left off but when he looked at himself in the mirror and stroked his dick it wasn't working. He heard the jazz playing in the background, saw in the mirror the lithe body and tanned features of the man he jacked off to every day, but ...

The slurping sound grew louder and the deep voice groaned, "Yeah, buddy, suck that dick ... suck it hard, man." Reflexively Thomas looked down again and ... and found himself looking straight into a pair of steel blue eyes staring at him out of the dark gypsy face with the square, stubbled jaw and long black hair falling over his forehead.

"Blow jobs are fucking great don't ya think, Tom?" Randy said, his accent matching his rugged, swarthy features. "Bet a guy as hot as you gets his dick sucked a whole lot. `Course, you don't suck cock yourself, you being a top man and all. I do though ... suck my buddy's big hunk o' meat. Love it when he cums in my mouth. Look at the guy, Tommy, that macho face, muscular bod. You have no idea how great it feels to drink that man-juice when he blasts it down my throat and I gulp every drop. Damn, it tastes good. You don't know what you're missing."

That image was electrifying and Thomas struggled against drowning in those blue eyes. Randy ran both hands through Bob's hair and pulled his face down harder on his cock, all the time gazing at Thomas. "Oh, yeah, my fucking prick feels so hot in that gorgeous mouth. I love getting sucked off by a beautiful man like my buddy here, or yourself for that matter. Nah, course you don't do that stuff. But just look what he's doin' to me, man."

Randy pulled Bob's head away from his cock that rose up like a thick pole, gleaming wet, veins bulging, pre-cum oozing from the top and dripping down the head. Bob bent lower and licked his hard balls. Thomas was reeling as he stared at the massive shaft, dripping with the saliva of this beautiful man who was now licking his balls. Hypnotized by the blue eyes penetrating his Thomas mindlessly stroked his cock.

The deep voice was just as mesmerizing. "See, Tommy, that's the way it is with us. This man here, this Superman, a man to top them all – this man worships me, like he's doing to my balls right now. Then he licks the sweat off my body, first my abs, then my pecs, bites my tits then buries his face in my stinking armpit.

"But see this cock here? That's what he worships most of all, can't get enough of it, chowing down on it every chance he gets. Can you imagine what it feels like filling his mouth? And when he's sucked me good I ram my cock deep and bust my load down his throat so he chokes on my jizz." Thomas whimpered and pumped his cock harder.

"But my prick stays hard, man, and I give my man what he's wanted all along. You know what I do? I strip him naked, throw him on the bed and tie him down. I throw his legs in the air and ... and shove this huge rod right up his ass. He loves it, his ass is on fire and he's howling like a stuck pig, that gorgeous body writhing in bondage while I ramrod his ass." Thomas felt his legs go weak.

"His ass drives me wild like a fucking stallion and I stare into his eyes like I'm staring at you now, and I'm yelling, Take it, man, take my fucking prick up your ass.' You're my prisoner, man, and I'm fucking you ... fucking that smooth, tanned body, fucking that gorgeous gymnast ass, and you're begging me to cum. Yeah, you're begging, Fuck me, sir ... fuck my ass, cum inside me sir, I want it so bad ... please, I beg you sir ...'"

"Aaagh!" The scream came from Golden Boy. Mesmerized by the hypnotic eyes and the deep voice, lost in the fantasy of the gypsy's cock inside him, he shuddered helplessly and screamed as his cock blasted semen over the two men. In a daze he stared down at the gypsy's muscular body, wondering what the white juice was running over it. And then he realized it was his own.

Randy pulled Bob up on the bed with him, and their eyes met. "Thanks, buddy," he said softly. "Sorry about all that worship stuff that I loaded on you there."

"Why sorry?" Bob smiled. "I do worship you. You just took a little dramatic license is all" ... he glanced up at Thomas ... "and it worked like a charm."

Thomas was standing limply at the foot of the bed in a daze as if he had just woken up from a dream – in this case a wet dream. He was confused, horrified at the raunchy suggestions of this naked construction worker ... things that would never happen, could never happen. He realized he was still holding his dick, dripping cum, and still staring at the bed.

Randy broke the spell (or the nightmare or whatever it was) by jumping to his feet and grasping Thomas's shoulder. "What'd I tell ya, Tommy? Lotta fun eh? Ya'll are real good at those ... whad'ya-call-it ... extra-curricular thingies. Didn't quite work out the way we planned – I mean you jerking off over me and my buddy instead of the other way round – but hey, whatever floats your boat."

Golden Boy looked into Randy's eyes, those damn blue eyes, and stammered, "I ... er ...I ..." He felt the warmth of Randy's hand squeezing his shoulder, felt his cock pulse and glanced sideways at the hand. "Oops," Randy said, pulling it away. "Sorry, Tom, I forgot. Look don't touch, eh – your rules."

Thomas took a breath as if to say something, but instead turned in confusion and picked up his pants. "All good things come to an end, eh, Tommy, even that hot extra-curricular stuff? Your money's on the sideboard over there."

He lowered his voice as if taking the young man into his confidence. "Tell you the truth, Tommy, I got a little unfinished business with my man over there. See, I can be hot-headed sometimes, like some stallion in heat, and I went too far with all that stuff about him worshipping me. Kinda made him sound like some kinda bottom-man, which he sure as hell is not. I mean look at him, Tommy."

They looked over at Bob on the bed, on his back, propped up on his elbows, his spectacular body flexed under the ceiling spotlights, his long dick lying on his stomach, cum still drying on his eight-pack abs, a smile lighting up his chiseled features.

"It's payback time, Tommy, and that stud is gonna fuck. Hell, can you imagine that Greek God fucking you, those muscles rising and falling over you as he ploughs your ass, that gorgeous face staring down at you? Shit damn, it's like getting fucked by Superman. Nah, I guess you couldn't imagine that `cos you've never been fucked, you being a top man and all, but I sure as hell can, and I'm gonna get me some of that right now."

"Sir, I ..."

"Was' matter, stud? Oh I get it, you wanna get dressed and get outa here before we start. That kind of stuff too rich for your blood, eh?"

"Not exactly, sir, I ..."

Randy opened his eyes in mock surprise. "Ya'll wanna stay and watch? Oh, I dunno `bout that... besides, your rule was an hour limit, and we don't have enough cash around here to pay for another hour." He looked at Golden Boy's pleading eyes and shrugged. "Well, I guess there's still twenty minutes or so left on the clock. Let me go check with Bob."

He went to the bed and huddled with Bob, then came back, frowning. "I'm not sure that's gonna fly, Tom. See, he don't mind someone watching but, well, here's the deal ... the way you busted your load over us just now ... he's not real partial to that."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bob choke back laughter, but Randy kept a straight face. "Only way he'd agree to a guy watching is if the guy couldn't touch his own cock and jerk off," Randy shrugged, "like, say, if his hands was tied or something. But I know you wouldn't go for that – that rule of yours, definitely none of that bondage stuff."

"Well," Thomas interjected hastily, "if it was just watching – no contact or anything, I guess I could agree to that."

"Really?" Randy said in surprise. "Well if you could see your way clear to agree to just a smidge of bondage, we got ourselves a deal here, Tommy. I got the stuff right here." With a conspiratorial glance at Bob Randy got his backpack from under the bed, rummaged around in it and pulled out two wrist restraints and a metal clip. "See?" he grinned. "The very thing." He expertly buckled them round Thomas's wrists, pulled his hands behind his back and clipped the restraints together.

Thomas had a moment of panic but Randy stepped back and raised his hands in the air with a look of innocence. "See, no hands – no touch, OK? Besides, I got my hands full over here."

He walked over to Bob who leapt off the bed and stood facing him. With Thomas out of earshot Bob said softly, "Wondered when you'd get around to me, buddy. I was feeling neglected."

"Yeah, sorry about all that foreplay. Fun, though, don't ya think? So here I am, I'm all yours. Let's play the shit out of it, buddy ... I want that fish well and truly hooked for when I go to work on him."

Thomas couldn't hear what they were saying and pulled at his restraints in another moment of panic as he realized he was helpless. But the sight of the two musclehunks facing each other chased fear from his mind and he leaned against the wall and watched.

Standing tall and buck naked Bob looked truly magnificent and Thomas gasped as Bob pushed Randy backwards so he sprawled on his back on the bed. He stretched his arms up in a V and Bob growled, "Just the way I want you, mother-fucker." He pulled out of Randy's backpack two lengths of rope and tied Randy's wrists to the corner bedposts, his body spread-eagled at the mercy of Superman.

At least that was Thomas's growing fantasy – the arrogant, macho gypsy with his superior attitude now at the mercy of a dominant muscle-stud out for revenge. That impression was hammered home when Bob said, "Fuck you, man, you think you're hot shit, don't you? Boasting how I worship you, forcing me to suck your cock and balls. Well, I got news for you, stud. It's not your horse-dick I want. It's your ass."

Bob spat on his cock and knelt on the bed. He pushed Randy's legs in the air and pressed the head of his dick between his ass cheeks. He deliberately didn't wet his cock any more as he knew how much Randy loved to get dry-fucked by him. The initial spurt of pain helped him fantasize that his ass was being tortured by his lover, a major turn on for him – the sense that this alpha male was taking his revenge for all the times he had been hurt in the past.

It also added to the drama, which they milked for all it was worth to impress Golden Boy – all part of Randy's plan. Thomas watched in disbelief as the rugged Texan pulled desperately against the ropes, his body writhing as he pleaded, "No! Not dry, man. I can't take a dry fuck from that huge dick. Please, man, I can't take it."

"Shut the fuck up, asshole. Not so arrogant now eh? ... the hotshot construction boss tied down to the bed begging for mercy. No deal, asshole. You made me service your dick but now you're helpless and I am gonna ream your sorry ass, stud."

Thomas had never been so turned on as he was now, totally buying into the pornographic fantasy of the stud gypsy being captured and tortured by this gorgeous man bent on revenge. He pulled at his own restraints behind his back, instinctively wanting to touch his cock. The Golden Boy had never been in this position of extreme frustration and he was on the point of begging for release when he gasped in disbelief as he saw Bob's cock start to slide inside the helpless ass.

It went in a few inches, then pulled back and stopped, with only the head inside. The two men were gazing into each other's eyes as the gypsy groaned, knowing what was coming. "No ... don't... please, man, don't do this. I can't take it ... aaah ... oh fuck ... fuck ... aaagh!"

As the massive rod pistoned deep into his ass Randy's rippling torso spasmed, his face contorted in pain, his head thrashed from side to side, black hair flying and he screamed again No!!!. His cock spasmed and erupted in a stream of cum that splashed on his writhing body and agonized face, soaking his stubbled jaw with his own semen.

As the tortured construction boss struggled in bondage, Thomas jerked at his own restraints, feeling the same desperate frustration, the same pain, as this incredible man writhing before him. The superb gypsy, his ass impaled on another man's cock, was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and he howled in ecstasy and frustration as his own cock blasted a plume of semen down onto the heaving chest and cum-soaked face.

Thomas realized what he had done, the thing that was forbidden. But it was as if the two lovers hadn't noticed as they stared at each other like men possessed. "I submit, man," Randy pleaded. "I'm done, finished."

"I'll tell you when you're done, asshole," Bob snarled. "I've only just begun and I haven't emptied my load in your ass yet, big guy – the final humiliation." His cock pulled back and the piston began again, slowly at first, then gathering speed, pile-driving into the shattered ass. "No, please, Randy sobbed. You're ripping my ass, I can't take any more. I'm begging you, sir, I give up, you win, I surrender. Untie me ... please.

To Thomas's surprise, Bob complied. He quickly pulled one end of the rope on each side and the wrists fell free. "Not that it's gonna do you any good, stud. I want my revenge ... like this! He leaned forward and clamped his hands round the gypsy's throat. The broken man grabbed his wrists and his biceps bulged as he strained to pull his hands apart, but they were locked like a vise round his neck.

He's gonna choke him, Thomas thought, desperately tugging at his wrists behind him in a futile effort to come to his aid. Randy's eyes were open wide, his veins popping as if he was about to pass out. But Randy was having the time of his life. God he loved Bob in this mood and, of course, his hands round Randy's neck were far from doing any harm. He flexed his muscles and put on a show of trying desperately, hopelessly, to pull his attacker's hands off his neck.

He struggled mightily until at last he groaned, "I submit, sir," and his arms fell limply on the bed above his head. Thomas had never seen anything as graphically homoerotic, as blatantly pornographic as this. The rugged, macho gypsy was beaten – spread-eagled on the bed, his rival's hands round his throat, his shuddering body impaled on the muscle-god's huge shaft. His handsome, stubbled features contorted in pain as he sobbed in humiliating defeat.

All he could do now was beg as tears flowed from his eyes. "I can't take it, man, please, have mercy on me. Cum. Cum in my ass. Shoot your load in my ass, sir. I wanna feel your jizz inside me. I worship you, man. You win ... I submit ..."

"Aaagh!" It was Bob screaming this time as his hips plunged forward one last time. His cock entered the deepest, hottest chamber of his lover's ass and erupted with the pent up sperm that had been building inside him like molten lava. Randy grabbed his own cock and pounded it until he busted another load of jizz over his already cum-soaked chest.

When his cock was drained Bob looked up at Thomas who had never seen such a beautiful face in his life. In total subservience the Golden Boy sobbed, "Please ... please, sir, release my hands. I have to cum again ... I have to. Please, I beg you, sir ... untie me."

Bob smiled, "No need for that, Thomas. Here ..." He leaned forward, sucked the man's pulsing cock into his mouth and squeezed his throat muscles round it. Thomas gasped and his heart beat wildly as he stared down at the magnificent, god-like face, lips clamped round his cock. He stared at the exhausted gypsy lying in humiliating defeat after being brutally fucked by this man ... and he screamed, dazzled by the ultimate erotic fantasy as cum poured out of his cock into Superman's mouth.

Thomas was sobbing in a turmoil of confusion, shame, and sexual ecstasy as he felt the restraints being removed from his wrists. He was free, free to go, and he stumbled around the room gathering up his clothes and struggling to pull on his pants. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and he spun round in fear to face the naked, cum-splattered construction worker.

"Hey, Tommy boy, I know that `don't touch' rule you got but I gotta thank you for one smokin' hot time you gave me and my buddy." He opened his arms and Thomas recoiled at first but then surrendered to the muscular arms folding round him and the sinewy body pressing against him.

And when Randy closed his mouth over his in a churning tongue-searching kiss Thomas tried to hold his breath but soon found himself breathing the same warm air as this crude, savage gypsy he had looked down on as his inferior. He smelled and tasted the mix of man-sweat and cum on his lips and found himself falling under the man's spell.

But he caught himself just in time and remembered who he was – the blond, handsome assistant manager of a major hotel, a smart, sophisticated young man who really couldn't associate with a roughneck like this. Although he occasionally bestowed his favors on gentlemen who found him attractive, what had happened in this room bordered on sordid – with bondage, dry fucking and crude obscenities – way beyond his comfort zone.

These guys were crazy. Thomas knew what a top-man was, being one himself, but when he had seen the tough macho gypsy get tied down and brutally fucked in the ass, that was ... well it was ... wrong ... it was ... His heart started to pound and, although he couldn't remember how many times he had been forced to cum by this man, he was horrified to feel his cock getting hard again as he was locked in the powerful arms.

He pushed away in disgust. He was ashamed at what these guys had made him do, tied up and helpless, and took refuge in denial. It was all a bad dream. His adrenaline was now channeled into boosting his own tarnished ego and he fought to regain the superior status he deserved. "I have to go," he said.

Randy clamped his hands on Thomas's shoulders, held him at arm's length and smiled at him. "Yeah, pity about that, Tom. There's a lotta other stuff we coulda got into. Shit, we could'a done an all-nighter but me and my buddy could never have come up with enough cash for that and hell," he chuckled, "we could hardly charge it to room-service."

The Golden Boy, who had already lost considerable luster, was pulling on his clothes, searching for his socks, as Randy watched him and said, "Probably just as well, though, `cos it would never have worked out." Considering this a put-down Thomas stood up straight and looked Randy in the face, his natural arrogance returning. "Well, of course, sir, if you don't find me attractive enough, although most of my gentleman think I am ..."

"Yeah, well you see, Tommy, I'm not like most of your gentlemen – far from it. You remember when you came in here you gave us your list of ground rules – you know, no bondage, domination, definitely no fucking your ass, you being a top and all?"

"Yes, those are my rules."

Randy again held him at arm's length and pierced him with the intensity of his steel blue eyes. Bob was watching from the bed and even he gasped, recognizing the ultimate gaze Randy always used to demolish a man. "You see, Tom," came Randy's deep, steady voice, "when I'm with a man, I got a ground rule of my own – just the one, and it's short and simple ... that the guy does exactly whatever the fuck I tell him to do." Thomas felt his legs go weak and his heart missed a beat.

"But I can see that would never work with you, Tommy. Take, for example, that gorgeous gymnast ass of yours, and ass that could make grown men weep. See I'd have to fuck it Tommy, I'd just have to, so that wouldn't work `cos you don't take it up the ass, never have." He stepped back and grabbed his own cock that was again hard as a rock.

"See this piece a' horse-meat here? It wouldn't only go up the guy's ass. The guy would have to worship it – like, crawl on his belly begging for it. He'd have to kiss my feet, lick my legs all the way up to my sweaty balls and take them in his mouth. Then I'd fuck his face, throw him on the bed and fuck his ass.

"I'd let my buddy grab a piece of the action too, and one of us would hold the guy down while the other one fucks him. "See that backpack over there, Tom, where I got the wrist restraints from? You would not believe the equipment I got in there ... shit, bondage ain't the half of it."

By this time Thomas's expression was one of horror and fascination and he felt a restlessness and a visceral sense of unease he didn't understand. Then Randy laughed. "But hell, Tommy, why the hell am I telling you all this when you're not into any o' that shit?"

He grabbed his shoulders again, his hands almost round his neck, and his eyes took on a new intensity. "But while I've got your attention here, Thomas, there is one thing I gotta tell you that's real important. That young waiter out by the pool – Danny's his name. Quit riding him. You treated him like shit today and I won't have that.

"You're his boss, I guess, so you're expected to maintain discipline, I get that. But it seems to me the kid was doing his best, eager to learn, so from now on you go easy on him – be kind to him." He applied slight pressure on his neck. "If I hear otherwise I would get angry, and it ain't pretty when I get angry, Tom. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," Thomas said meekly.

Sensing that Randy's `treatment' of Thomas was winding down Bob got up and came over to them to play the good cop. His tone was far kinder than the gypsy's as he smiled at Thomas. "I too want to thank you for coming up here tonight, Thomas. You were a good sport about everything, even though I know we broke some of your ground rules and I apologize for that.

"I'm sorry it's over in a way because I too would have loved to feel my cock in that beautiful ass of yours." He smiled and the intense look in his warm brown eyes was just as devastating as Randy's. "Of course, when I fuck a man it's a lot different from my wild buddy here. He fucks like a raging stallion but I prefer making love to a man's ass while I make love to the man himself – taking him in my arms and kissing him while my cock moves in his ass."

Thomas was spellbound by this beautiful man and instinctively moved toward him. Bob took a step back and sighed. "In fact I wish I could kiss you right now, Thomas, and hold you in my arms, but I respect your no-contact ground rules. That shows an admirable restraint in you, a touch of class even. As Randy said, spending all night with you would have been nice, but we don't have enough money for that. Oh, which reminds me."

Bob walked over to the sideboard and pulled cash from his wallet. "Here's the money you mentioned earlier, Thomas." He chuckled. "I wouldn't want to seem any less generous' than your other gentlemen' so I've doubled the amount as we were closer to two hours than one – but still within your ground rules, I hope."

"Oh, sir, I don't want the money, I was just being ..."

"Nonsense, Thomas," Bob insisted, "a deal's a deal after all, and you earned every penny. Buy yourself something nice with it and think of it as a present from me." He stuffed the bills in the waistband of Thomas's pants, as one would with a stripper. "Oh, and remember what Randy said, be especially kind to Danny – whom I'll probably be speaking to later. Will you do that for me, Thomas?"

"Yes, sir ... absolutely, sir. I promise."

"Excellent." Bob kissed his forefinger and touched it to Thomas's lips. "Goodnight, Thomas. Sweet dreams."

Bob turned and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving a devastated young man in his wake. Randy was hugely impressed by Bob's performance and stared at the sagging Golden Boy.

"Real sorry to see you go, Tommy. Er, if by any chance you should change your mind and can see you way clear to relaxing some of those ground rules of yours, my buddy and I will be right here, same time, same place tomorrow – eleven o'clock sharp. But nah, I guess my own rule would be a big turnoff – that stuff about making you crawl and all. Pity, I know Bob was looking forward to making love to that sweet ass. But, hey-ho, that's life ya'll."

A few minutes later Bob and Randy, after a quick shower, were lying in bed. "Oh what a tangled web we weave," Bob grinned. "That begging submission act of yours was a real Oscar winner. Damn you looked hot. We should do it again. So, do you think he'll come back?"

"Duh! Of course he'll fucking come, after the number we both did on him. You were fucking sensational, man. Talk about no mercy. Hell, you seduced me all over again. And that bit with the stripper's money – that was really twisting the knife, man."

"You should talk! You were like a cat playing with a mouse – or rather a tiger toying with his prey." Bob frowned. "You don't think we were a bit too hard on the guy do you? In a way I can't help feeling sorry for him."

Randy glared at him. "Now listen, man. That condescending asshole really rubbed me the wrong way, especially when he ripped into that kid, Danny. You heard him just now ... even after I'd finished with him that same arrogant attitude resurfaced. It'll take a lot to knock that out of him. Hell, I'd like to turn him over to Pablo and Darius for a few days, see if guys his own age can do something with him.

"Buddy, you know me when I get the bit between my teeth. I'm not finished with that obnoxious asshole yet, not `til he's crawling on the ground begging for my dick, begging me to tie him up and ram my dick up his ass. Hell, he's already longing for it. I guarantee that right now he's jacking off in his car before driving home. And he's gonna be beating his meat all night, re-living what he saw tonight and fantasizing about what he's gonna get tomorrow."

Suddenly he softened and grinned at Bob. "Ah, forget him. All this talk of dicks in asses has turned me on." He grabbed Bob's ass under the sheets. "You wanna fool around, buddy?"

Bob slapped his hand away. "Jesus, Randy, you're a damn fuck machine. Don't you ever get enough? Go to sleep."

"Ah, you're no fun, man," Randy pouted.

But they both knew that was a lie. Randy had never had so much fun in his life.

Next day they slept in late, called room service and had a leisurely breakfast on the terrace. It was near noon when they decided to go for a run on the beach. Shirtless in gym shorts they went out past the pool, seeing no sign of Golden Boy on the way. "In the bathroom jacking off," Randy grinned. They jogged down the long, winding cliff path and hit the beach running.

After a few miles they turned round and, on the way back, saw a figure walking ahead of them. "Hey," Bob said, "it's Danny." As they approached the boy turned round and smiled, but then the smile faded and he kept walking.

"Hey, Danny," Bob said, slowing down to walk with him. "It's me, Bob, and my buddy Randy. Remember us?"

Danny looked up at him shyly, "Yes, sir, only ..."

Randy laughed, "Hey, forget all that `fraternizing' bullshit. You're with us now. You got time for a chat? Let's go over there." They headed up the beach and sat on or some rocks against the cliff, Danny facing the two men, nervously making intermittent eye contact. He was wearing only running shorts and they could see now that he had a nice, compact body, the product of a lot of exercise, and a handsome young face with a hint of cheekiness under the shyness.

He said, "I often go for a long walk on the beach before my shift, sir. It starts at two o'clock."

"Good," Bob said, "time for us to get to know you better. So how are things going with you?"

Danny's grin as he blinked behind his glasses reminded them so much of Brandon. "Much better, thank you sir. You know how said your friend was going to have a chat with Thomas?" He looked shyly at Randy. "Well, I don't know what you said, sir, but he's been so great to me this morning, teaching me stuff, checking to see if I was OK – between trips to the bathroom, that is. He's was doing that a lot." Danny blushed.

"What is it, Danny?" Bob smiled.

"Well, sir." Danny lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I may be wrong but ... well, I think he may have been jerking off in the bathroom `cos every time he came back his eyes were shining ... you know, like guys' eyes do when they've just had sex."

Bob and Randy burst out laughing and Bob said, "I know just what you mean, kiddo. So tell me, how long have you been working here?"

"Four months, sir. I came here from Seattle where I worked in another fancy hotel."

"Why'd you leave?"

Danny blushed again. "Well, sir, I was the assistant pastry chef in the kitchen – and I was pretty good too. But the chef found out I liked ... well, I liked guys ... is it OK to talk about that, sir?"

"It's fine, Danny. We're cool," and Bob gave Randy a kiss on the lips to prove it. Danny visibly relaxed and told them how the chef came onto him, "and he said I'd lose my job if I didn't ... you know. So I left, even though I loved my job, and decided to try my luck down here. I was lucky to get hired, except it's not in the kitchen like I wanted. I don't think I'm a very good waiter, sir. Too nervous around rich people."

"Any chance of a kitchen job opening up?"

"I thought there might be, that's why I came here, but it looks like it's not gonna happen, especially not as a pastry chef." His eyes suddenly sparkled. "You see, sir, I feel really happy when I'm working in a kitchen. There's something about the feel and smell of food, and I got real good at making desserts. It's like making magic, sir, when it comes out right." He grinned shyly. "Sounds kinda crazy when I say it like that, sir."

"Not at all," Bob smiled, with a quick grin at Randy. "I know a couple of young guys who say exactly the same thing – and they're both gourmet chefs working in a private house with a lot of mouths to feed. So, Danny, you're down here all alone. You have family back in Seattle?"

"No, sir. My parents used to fight a lot and my dad beat up on me, so I ran away and took care of myself. I'm 18 now and pretty independent, but kind of a loner. I find it safer like that."

"No friends, boyfriends?"

"Not really sir. I'd kinda like to be around guys my own age but I've never had much luck in that department. The hotel gives me a small room in the basement and I keep myself pretty much to myself there."

Bob took a deep breath and his eyes got moist. Randy looked at him and felt that familiar, intense pang of love for him, knowing exactly what was going through his mind.

"You ever get up to L.A., Danny?" Bob asked.

"I went there once, sir. Kinda intimidating. See I don't have a car, but a guy here gave me a ride to the train station at San Juan Capistrano just down the highway and I caught the train to L.A. But now I pretty much stay down here."

"You should get out more, kiddo," Bob smiled. "Come to think of it, Danny, there's a young friend of ours I think you'd enjoy meeting. He's a lot like you – name's Brandon. You should also get acquainted with those two chefs I mentioned. You'd have a lot in common. Maybe you could take the train up to town again soon and Brandon could meet you at the station."

Suddenly Bob turned to Randy. "You like desserts, don't you Randy?"

Randy grinned at him. "Depends on the pastry chef."

The rest of the day was idyllic as they lounged by the pool, sipping Mai Tais served to them by Danny. They had requested that he be their waiter for the afternoon and the pool captain had arranged it. Bob wanted to get a good look at him and Randy saw the concentration on his face as he studied the boy. "Now what's percolating in that devious mind of yours, buddy?" Randy chuckled. "As if I didn't know."

Danny was becoming more self-assured with these glorious men. He had been intimidated at first but they soon put him at his ease. And Bob had been right about that cheekiness. As his shyness disappeared it was replaced by a definite hint of mischief. When he served another round of drinks he grinned at Bob, "I already looked up the train schedules, sir."

"Well done," Bob said. "When we get back I'll have my friend Brandon give you a call."

After the pool they went up to their room for leisurely afternoon sex, then had dinner in the dining room with no question this time of being thrown out for being underdressed or using the wrong fork. They got a little drunk on wine and went up to the room where they took off their fancy clothes, pulled on blue jeans and sat shirtless and barefoot on the terrace sipping brandy.

At exactly 11pm the door buzzer sounded. Randy grinned at Bob and yelled, "Come in!"

The door opened hesitantly. Thomas came in and stared at the two flawless muscle-gods standing side by side in blue jeans, their arms folded across their bare chests.

"Come in, Tommy," Randy said. "We were expecting you."

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 291

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!