Date: Wed, 1 Apr 2015 02:18:53 -0400
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength"- 251 by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 251
By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER: After the fight, healing the wounds.  Darius helps the
humbled Pablo restore his manhood. "The young black muscle-boy knelt
doggy-style in just tank-top and boots.  `Come on, dude – do it'."
Randy shows he is not all caveman by making tender love to Bob.  "Look at
me, buddy.  It's just you and me.  I'm in your eyes, in your head..."  And
Doc Steve has a plan for the rival cop and gypsy, and their boys.

**********************


Chapter 251 – "Healing The Wounds"

Jamie was riding the wave of his master the cop's adulation.  He had
triumphantly proved his manhood beyond doubt, first in the dunes with Mark
and Bob, then at Steve and Lloyd's house.  However, that old saying –
"every cloud has a silver lining' – works in reverse too.  No matter how
dazzling, every light throws a shadow and that was the certainly case with
Jamie's brilliant transformation.

The first flickering embers of discord had already been visible when Mark
and Jamie came home from the dunes and all the boys reacted
enthusiastically except one – Pablo.  He saw Jamie's rise to manhood as
a threat to his own dominant position among the boys, the `boss's boy' as
he persisted on calling himself.

Some conflicts take only a small spark to ignite them, but when they burst
into flames the fire spreads rapidly.  The spark in this case was struck,
not unexpectedly, by Pablo who late one afternoon barged into the office
where Jamie and Brandon were just finishing work.  Determined to prove his
authority over the cop's boy, Pablo picked a fight.

Jamie restrained his growing anger and backed away with his arms stretched
up in a truce gesture.  "I don't wanna fight you, Pablo, but don't push me
any further or, by god, I'll ..."

"Please," Brandon interjected, alarmed that the situation was escalating
out of control.  "Don't fight, guys, there's no need for that.  Back off,
Pablo, or..."

"Or what?" Pablo sneered, "you'll make me?  Stay out of this, punk, and
leave it to the big guys.  Let me remind you, kid, you're in a wheelchair
so what you gonna do?  You gonna wheel yourself outside and beat me up?
Yeah, like that's gonna happen."  He shoved Brandon's wheelchair with his
foot and sent it banging into the wall.

Nothing made Jamie madder than hearing Brandon sneered at, and he sprang to
his defense.  "You worthless piece of shit," Jamie yelled.  "OK, man
... outside."

At first Pablo got the upper hand in the fight and Brandon tried to
intervene, for which he was rewarded by Pablo kicking over his wheelchair.
But the over-confident Pablo was surprised by Jamie's rarely used fighting
skills and the `boss's boy' ended up the loser, stunned and helpless as
Jamie pinned him face down on the ground and fucked his ass.

The trouble escalated quickly as Randy impulsively ran to Pablo's aid.
When Bob tried to restrain him Randy swung round angrily, his fists
flailing so wildly he managed to slam Bob on the jaw and send him sprawling
on the ground.

Mark, who had just come home, still in his uniform, howled and sprang at
Randy, his own anger bursting into flames.  Not only was his boy in danger
from Randy, but he had just seen the man he idolized beaten to the ground
by the savage gypsy who was clearly out of control.  Mark's own love for
Randy was beside the point right now.  Right now he had to be stopped.

Randy was unnerved by what he had done, slugging Bob, something he had
promised never to do again.  As he hesitated in confusion Mark seized the
advantage and whaled into Randy with both fists.

By now the rest of the clan had crowded into the garden and Zack took
control. "Stand back, guys," he ordered in his deep, commanding voice.
"Just let this play out ... nobody interfere."

They all stood back and watched the incredible scene in nervous silence.
Randy and his boy lay on their stomachs facing the floor-length window of
the house, their arms stretched forward.  Mark had handcuffed them both to
the low spikes along the flowerbed under the window.

"You fucking bastard," Mark growled.  "Once a caveman always a caveman, I
guess.  You slammed Bob with your fist and you know what that means.  I
can't let you get away with that, man."  He took off his uniform shirt and
T-shirt and loomed over Randy shirtless in black uniform pants and high
black motorcycle boots.  "You know what's gonna happen, man.  It has to."

Zack had put out a call to Steve and when the doctor walked in he gazed at
the extraordinary spectacle of the cop and his boy side by side, pounding
the asses of the gypsy boss and his boy.  He said softly, "What the hell's
going on, Zack?  No don't tell me – it's obvious."  He sighed.  "Guess
we could all see this coming for some time.  Nobody badly hurt, I hope?"

"Nah," Zack said, "just a few bruises, hurt feelings – and two very sore
asses.  God knows where it all goes from here, though.  Any ideas?"

"Oh yeah," Steve smiled, "I think we can steer this into a good place,
Zack.  I have a plan."

"Trust you, doc," Zack grinned.  "I thought you would.  That's why I called
you.  But right now I guess all we can do is stand back and enjoy the
show."

******************************

Enjoy the show?  Questionable.

As the dual fuck by Mark and Jamie increased in ferocity and the handcuffed
master and boy groaned and writhed beneath them, `enjoy' was not quite the
word for what the spectators were feeling.  Sure, there were a lot of stiff
cocks among the men watching, but the erotic spectacle was tempered with
the anxiety of how this could escalate.

The irony was that Randy, Bob and Mark had recently acknowledged their love
for each other and had become a triumvirate of mutual passion.  Now that
unity seemed doomed, and everyone knew that this had the potential of
splitting the tribe into rival factions.  Ben, for instance – who as
Randy's young brother was fiercely loyal to him – was already looking
confused at his friend Brandon who was Jamie's buddy and had been attacked
by Randy's boy.

Even Mark and Jamie weren't doing this for pleasure, though on several
levels it felt damn good.  They not only had the visceral pleasure of
driving their cocks into the hot asses of their bound captives, but also
the satisfaction of avenging Bob, for the attack by Randy, and Brandon,
sent sprawling by Pablo.

Their main aim here was not pleasure, but the need to show Randy and Pablo,
and the assembled spectators, that although the two persisted in the belief
that they were the boss and the boss's boy, that did not give them the
right to run roughshod over the others.  After all, Bob, Mark and Zack were
of equal status with Randy, and Pablo was just one of the senior boys with
Darius, Jamie and the twins.

Randy and Pablo needed to learn that they were not all-powerful – they
could be beaten in a fight, tied up and fucked, as they were now.  Sure,
Randy had been following his instincts to protect his boy, but he never
stopped to consider that his boy might be in the wrong.

As the gypsy and his boy suffered, impaled on the pistons driving into
them, Steve looked anxiously at Zack.  Zack was about to step in when Mark
said, "OK, Jamie, they've had enough.  Let's finish them off.  You ready?"
Jamie nodded eagerly and Mark shouted, "OK, Randy, this is for what you did
to Bob."  Jamie yelled at Pablo, "And this is for Brandon."

To the sound of the victims' screams, the pile-driving cocks slammed into
their writhing bodies and they felt semen pouring deep inside them.  The
pounding cocks didn't slow down until they were drained of jizz that was
now oozing out of the victims' shattered asses.

At last they pulled their cocks out, Mark stood up and helped Jamie to his
feet.  He tossed the handcuff keys to Zack and, without a word or another
glance, put his arm round Jamie and walked him into their apartment.

Zack released the prisoners who stood up unsteadily and quickly wiped the
cum from their stomachs, embarrassed at having lost their loads while Mark
and Jamie fucked them.  Then they too walked silently to the house and went
up to Pablo's room.

Steve stood back, watching the remaining spectators carefully to gauge
their mood.  He was most impressed by Ben, Eddie and Brandon who, although
nominally on different sides, were hugging each other, with Eddie and Ben
on their knees beside Brandon's wheelchair.  Nothing, it seemed, could come
between the `three amigos'.  "See that, Zack?" Steve said.  "The whole
house could take a lesson from those kids – especially my brother Randy
and his boy."

Helped by the twins, Bob walked slowly over to them, rubbing his chin.
Steve embraced him, then looked carefully into his eyes for signs of
concussion.  "You OK, Bob?  Vision clear?  Not feeling dizzy?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.  Wasn't such a hard punch – I've taken a lot
worse from Randy in my time.  This time he didn't really mean it – an
unlucky swing of his fist."

"Godammit, Bob!"  Zack had a momentary flash of anger.  "You're always too
forgiving of Randy.  The man could never control his rage, even after all
those anger-management sessions with you, Steve."

"Let's leave the post-mortem for a bit later, guys," Steve said.  "Right
now the two men and their boys are in the right place nursing their bruises
and, in Randy's case, bruised egos.  Like I said, I do have a plan but
it'll meet some resistance so let's let the dust settle for a while, shall
we?"

"Steve's right," Bob agreed, then turned to the twins.  "Hey, guys, thanks
for all your help, but what I'd like now is for you to go back to the
kitchen and get dinner ready.  At times like this routine is real important
to restore order and you two are just the guys to calm things down.

"Sure thing, sir," they said in unison, pleased to be able to contribute
their skills in the way they knew best ... cooking.  They ran off to the
kitchen and Bob gazed after them murmuring, "Thank god for the twins.  OK,
guys, I'm going upstairs to clean up but Steve, can you stick around for
dinner?  I've a feeling we're gonna need all of your professional
expertise."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Steve grinned.  "OK if I ask Lloyd too?
Don't wanna leave him up there cooking a dinner we're not gonna eat."

That was agreed, naturally, then Bob turned to Zack and shook his
hand. "Man, here I go again thanking you for all your help.  This could
have got totally out of hand if you hadn't taken charge the way you did.  I
gotta find a way to really thank you."

"I can think of several ways, big guy, but we'll leave that for later.  Go
get cleaned up and if you have any more trouble with his majesty let me
know.  I'm about the only guy Randy doesn't wanna tangle with.  He respects
me – hell, sometimes I think he's even a bit scared of me.  And there
ain't much that scares that guy."

And so the group dispersed.  Pete took Brandon next door to Adam's house,
along with Nate, Eddie and Ben.  Zack and Darius cleared up the field of
battle – handcuffs, ripped clothes, boots – then Darius said, "I'm
gonna go up and check on Pablo.  He's my guy after all and he must be
feeling pretty bad right about now."

"Sure thing," Zack agreed.  "I'll stick around with Steve.  Don't know
about you, doc, but I need a drink."

Before he left, Darius got one closing video shot of the pile of ripped
clothes in the now quiet garden.  And when he shut off the camera Zack
said, "Reckon that's a wrap, eh kiddo?"

"One for the archives," Darius grinned.

*******************************

When Darius went upstairs to his and Pablo's small apartment Randy and
Pablo were sitting side by side on the bed in silence, sullenly drinking
beers.  Randy hardly knew how to react, knowing that Pablo had attacked
Brandon, a boy Randy loved and admired.

"Oh, sorry, sir," said Darius, backing out the door.

"No wait.  Come in, kid – it's your place after all, and I gotta go talk
to Bob anyway."  He stood up and left the room with a whispered aside to
Darius – "Help him, kid."

Pablo didn't make eye contact and stared down at the floor.  Darius's heart
went out to him, despite the fact that he had acted so badly to Jamie and
Brandon.  He loved Pablo and knew him better than almost anyone – they
had been boyfriends since Pablo first came to live in the house.  So he
knew the drubbing the proud `boss's boy' had taken to his ego and
reputation, not to mention his ass.  What made it doubly worse was the fact
that his master, the all-powerful gypsy, had suffered the same fate beside
him, handcuffed together.

Darius wasn't sure how to begin, but Pablo spared him the trouble by saying
gruffly, "You come to gloat at the loser?  Guess you wanna fuck me too,
like everyone else.  They're probably lined up at the door and I'll have to
pull the train for all of them now that Jamie's the senior boy and his cop
owns the place."

Darius sat down next to him.  "You finished?  Dude, I gotta tell ya,
self-pity is a very unattractive thing, especially in a stud like you.
Where's that macho defiance I've always loved in my guy?  And you are my
guy, kiddo – always will be no matter what.  You think I've come to
gloat?  That bums me out, dude.  I'm your boyfriend, for god's sake, and
boyfriends help each other when they're on a downer."

"Surprised you still wanna be my boyfriend now Randy's not the boss anymore
and I'm not the boss's boy."

"Godammit, is that all you can think of?  You think I love you `coz of this
`boss's boy' bullshit?  Wise up, kid.  Randy is still the boss of the tribe
no matter what happened, and you're still his boy, so you better start
acting like it.  I love you, dude, because of the man you are under that
tough hide of yours" – he grinned – "that and the most spectacular
ass in town."

Pablo shot to his feet and sneered, "Yeah that's it, the truth at last –
my ass.  That's all you want from me.  While you're at it why don't you
hang out a sign and sell tickets? ... `Roll up, guys, come fuck the loser's
ass – the line forms here'."  His dropped his shorts, turned round and
patted the globes of his ass.  "Here it is, guys.  Come and get it!"

Darius lost it.  He whirled Pablo around and shoved him hard onto the bed.
"Shut the fuck up, dude, and don't ever talk to me like that.  Let me
remind you, pal, you fucked up again – big time.  But I'm your friend,
your buddy, and I came up here to see what I could do to help.  Not much
apparently while you're wallowing in self-pity.  I'm outa here."

"No!"  Pablo's voice softened and he suddenly became a little boy. "Please
don't leave, Darius.  I need you, you're my best buddy and I'm sorry I said
all that."  He even managed his crooked grin as he pulled his legs back and
displayed his ass.  "Here, you can fuck me, dude – like you always do."

"That's better, kid."  Darius flashed his dazzling smile.  "Now that you're
ready to listen, dude, I'll tell you why I came here.  First, watch
this..."

He pulled off his denim sleeveless shirt.  Underneath he had on a black
tank top stretched over the ebony muscles of his torso.  He was wearing
black jeans and work boots and walked round the bed, lithe as a panther,
with Pablo's hungry eyes following his every move.  Pablo's self-pitying
misery was banished as he watched the husky black buck circling him.

Darius unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.  When his massive
ten-inch black dick sprang out Pablo gasped, "Oh fuck...!"  Darius bent
down, pulled off his boots and dropped his pants.  He put the boots back on
and straightened up.  "Jesus," Pablo said stroking his cock hard as he
gazed at the muscular black stud wearing nothing but his black tank and
work boots.

"You like that?" Darius asked, not waiting for a reply.  "Not the kinda guy
you mouth off to, right?  Now come here."  He reached down, grabbed Pablo's
wrist and pulled him into a tight bear hug, grinding their mouths together
in a ferocious kiss.  Pablo wrapped his arms round Darius and felt his back
muscles rippling under the tank, and the huge horse-dick pressing against
his stomach.  When he pulled back Pablo gasped, "Are you gonna fuck me,
dude?"

Darius threw his head back and laughed.  "Man, you're a glutton for
punishment.  After what happened to you out there you still want my big
club in your tortured ass.  Nah, I think you've been fucked enough for one
day, kid.  I had something else in mind.  You good and hard down here?"  He
groped Pablo's cock.  "Course you are.  OK, stud, get ready."

Darius got down on all fours on the bed facing the full-length wall mirror
at the head of the bed.  (All the beds in this house had mirrors behind the
beds – Randy had made sure of that.)

On hands and knees Darius gazed into the mirror at his own reflection,
naked except for the black tank over his torso and his boots.  "See that
black stallion, man?  Takes a real man to ride that.  You up for it?"

Pablo knew what Darius was doing ... after his humiliation this was a way
for Pablo to reassert his manhood.  But that was only a glancing thought.
Mostly he was blown away by the image of the young black muscle-stud
kneeling doggy-style on the bed in just tank-top and boots, his ass thrust
up waiting to get ploughed, his cock hanging down so far that it touched
the bed.

It was Pablo who usually yielded his flawless ass to Darius's ten inches,
but now, seeing the big black buck in a submissive pose fired up all of
Pablo's macho instincts.  A short while ago he had been humiliatingly
beaten and fucked by Jamie, but now he was back on top.  He dipped his
fingers in a jar of lube they kept by the bed and greased up his dick.
Then he knelt behind Darius and pushed his fingers into his ass.

Darius groaned as he looked at his boyfriend in the mirror.  In full macho
mode Pablo growled, "Man, it's gonna be hot fucking a stud like you.  You
want my dick in that black ass?"

"Yeah, fuck me man ... fuck me hard ... I wanna really feel it."

"You got it, big guy."  Pablo pressed his cock against Darius's hole and
gazed into the reflection of Darius's rugged face, a younger version of the
spectacular Zack ... then drove his rod deep into the bowels of his ass.
Darius's face reared back and he howled, "Yeah, fuck that ass, man.  Show
me you're still the boss's boy."

The boss's boy!  Those words spurred Pablo on to erase the memory of his
earlier defeat and he became a fuck machine.  He grabbed Darius's hips and
pulled his ass onto his cock, pounding it like a sledgehammer.  He watched
Darius's face wince in pain, his shoulders and arms flexing as he braced
himself on the bed.

"Man, your ass is so fucking hot ... I'm gonna rip you open, boy."  Still
fucking hard, he reached forward, grabbed the back of Darius's tank and
pulled him upright, still on his knees.  Pablo pressed his chest against
his back, reached round with both hands and squeezed his nipples hard
through the tank while his own pubic hair slammed against Darius's ass
cheeks.

"Aaagh," Darius howled as pain shot through his chest and ass.  Pablo
stared wildly at the near naked leather boy in the mirror.  "Man, you are
so fucking hot," Pablo gasped between thrusts.  "I wanna see it all."

He raised his hands from the tits to the top of the tank and yanked it down
to the sound of ripping cotton as the shirt tore and hung in shreds from
his shoulders, exposing the full glory of his pecs and six-pack abs, sweat
glistening in the black curly hair on his chest.  Pablo was driven crazy by
the sight of the gorgeous young buck in the mirror, his whole torso
flexing, his massive black cock bouncing before him as he jerked forward
with each blow to his ass.

In long bondage sessions Zack had trained Darius to be tough and withstand
pain and now it paid off.  He was feeling only exhilaration as he yelled,
"Come on, boy ... that all you got?  Pound that ass.  Show me how Randy's
boy fucks."

"OK, man, you asked for it..."  Pablo pushed him forward so Darius was
bracing himself on his elbows, his ass sticking up almost vertically.
Pablo stood up and pulled Darius's hips even higher, his ass still impaled
on his cock.  Standing with his legs astride, his hands locked on Darius's
hips, Pablo now drove his rod downward, falling hard onto the upstretched
ass again and again with brutal impact.

Now Darius was feeling real pain and instinctively he tried to crawl
forward on his elbows toward the mirror. With his last reserves of strength
he reached forward and slammed his palms against the glass.  Painfully he
clawed higher and higher up the mirror until he was able to stagger to his
feet, even though the piston still powered into his ass.  Sweat was pouring
down his gleaming face, chest and abs and soaking the tangle of black pubic
hair at the base of his jerking cock.

"You can't take much more, boy, and you know it," Pablo jeered
triumphantly.  But in a defiant response Darius thrust his ass back hard so
the cock sank even deeper.  "So that's the way you wanna play it, eh, stud?
OK, here it comes."  Pablo held Darius's hips, pushed his ass forward
almost off his cock, then rammed it back so his shaft speared Darius's ass
savagely.

His hands braced against the mirror, his ass helplessly impaled on his
lover' cock, Darius gave a full throated scream and a long ribbon of white
juice streamed from his huge cock and slammed against the glass, again and
again until cum was streaming down the mirror.

The force of his ejaculation drove Darius off balance, he fell backward
onto Pablo and, still joined together, they landed on their backs on the
bed.  The force of Darius thudding on top of him rammed Pablo's cock ever
deeper into his ass and it exploded inside him.  As Pablo howled Darius
blew the last of his load in a stream of jizz that arced high in the air
and splashed back down on their heaving bodies.

******************************

As always when Darius and Pablo had great sex ... they started to laugh.
They rolled over in each other's arms, kissing through their laughter until
finally Darius gasped.  Dude you were one hot mother-fucker there.  It was
like getting fucked by Zack" – and they both knew there was no better
praise than that.

When at last they calmed down they lay with their faces close together and
Darius said, "Shit, kiddo, forget that bullshit earlier in the garden, this
was the guy I know and love.  Talk about top man...  But seriously dude,
you've acted real crazy, and that thing you did to Brandon – way outa
line, a big no-no in this house.  There are a lot of fences to be mended,
the whole house is pretty fucked up and you can't just go charging back in,
all guns blazing, like you did with me.

"See..." (Darius could get quite professorial sometimes) "...stuff like
this you gotta finesse, kiddo, stay aloof, rise above it like I do.  Keep
your mouth shut ..."

"... like you do," Pablo grinned.  "Dude, they don't call you motor-mouth
for nothing."

"Yeah, well, bad example..." they both sputtered with laughter, then Darius
became serious again.  "No, I'm telling you, stuff like this could go on
and on – fighting, revenge, revenge for the revenge – it's what you
call a ..." (he made a stab at it) "...a viscous cycle – kinda like the
Middle East."  (He had once heard someone say that.)

"The Middle East?" Pablo winced doubtfully, sensing that `viscous' was not
right and that Darius probably thought the Middle East was Chicago.  Darius
was getting way out of his depth here.  When he all brainy like this he
could get carried away and now he groped for a soft landing.

"What I'm saying is, dude, Steve says he has a plan to stop everyone
stirring the shit.  Well, maybe he didn't actually use those words –
can't remember – but that's what he meant.  So you gotta listen to him.
He's the shrink, after all."

But Pablo had already tuned Darius out and had a faraway, troubled look in
his eye.  Darius waved his hand in front of Pablo's face.  "Hello –
Earth to Pablo.  Where'd you go, dude?"

Pablo shrugged.  "Oh ... next door in the master suite.  I'm worried about
Randy, facing Bob after what he did to him."

"Ah, don't sweat it, kid.  If I know anything – and I know a lot –
Bob can handle that situation.  Now there's a guy who knows a lot too."

Pablo smiled at him.  "Thanks for everything, Darius.  I know I don't
deserve it after what I did."  He stroked Darius's cock.  "Er ... talking
of revenge ... you gonna take yours?"

"Naturally," Darius said grandly.  "OK, kid, show me those hot buns of
yours."

****************************

The fence-mending process Darius referred to was only in its infancy as
Randy well knew, and as he hesitated at the door of the master suite he had
no idea how to begin.  His fucking anger!  It had got him in a mess of
trouble again and he had done something he promised Bob and himself he
would never do again – he had slugged him.  He hadn't meant to but
... oh shit.

Usually when he was in trouble he turned to Bob for help, but how could he
ask for help from the man he had just sent sprawling on the ground?
Feeling very alone he turned the doorknob and went in.  He crossed their
living room and went hesitantly into the bedroom where Bob was at his desk
writing.  For a panic-stricken moment Randy thought he was writing a
goodbye note, but when Bob looked up he was smiling.  However, he wasn't
going to let Randy off the hook so easily so he just looked at him –
questioningly.

As always in a moment of tension Randy clenched his fists, usually as a
prelude to slugging someone.  He stammered, "I, er ... I ... look, man, I
..."

Bob took pity on him.  "Come here, buddy."  Randy shuffled forward and
stood before him like a guilty boy.  Bob reached out, took one of his fists
and uncurled the clenched fingers, then gently did the same with the other
fist.  "That's better," Bob grinned.  "Now, you were saying?"

Randy actually sank to his knees before him.  "Man, I don't know what to
say.  Except I love you, man.  But I don't know what else to say."

"I know," Bob agreed.  "Tricky isn't it?  All that ritual we used to go
through – apologies, promises, forgiveness – we're way beyond that.
But hey, kneeling down won't cut it.  Get up, buddy."  Bob stood up, put
his hands under Randy's arms and pulled him up to face him.

Only then did Randy see the bruise on Bob's handsome face and, with a
stifled sob he leaned forward to kiss it, lick it, then kissed his eyes so
tenderly it surprised even Bob.  He pushed Randy gently away and gazed into
his eyes.  "That felt great, man.  Hey, I know you can do caveman ... but
can you do tender?"

Randy managed a grin.  As usual Bob had given him his cue and he ran with
it.

Bob was wearing a white shirt, black slacks and loafers.  Randy gave him
another soft kiss on the lips, then slowly unbuttoned Bob's shirt.  He
pushed it back off his shoulders and moaned as he stared at the sculpted
muscles of his chest and abs.  The shirt fell back and hung from his waist,
tucked into his pants.

"Oh man," Randy breathed, gazing at his gorgeous lover stripped to the
waist.  He leaned forward and kissed Bob's neck, then licked his pecs, his
nipples and down over his ripped abs.  He sank to his knees, unzipped Bob's
pants and pulled out his already-hard cock.  He closed his mouth over it,
pushed forward and swallowed it deep down his throat, burying his face in
the dark tangle of pubic hair and breathing in the musky essence of his
manhood.

Bob looked down at the rugged gypsy on his knees and ran his hands through
his long shaggy black hair.  "Feels good, man," Bob sighed as Randy's mouth
rose up and down on his cock.  Soon Randy drew back, unbuckled Bob's belt
and pulled his pants and shorts down to his ankles.  As he got slowly to
his feet he ran his hands up over his calves, thighs, hips and his lats
until they were once again face to face.

"I love you, man," Randy said.  He put his hands round Bob's waist, picked
him up effortlessly and laid him gently on his back on the bed.  He pulled
his loafers, his pants and shorts off over his feet and gazed down at him
lying naked.  "So fucking beautiful," Randy said.  "Man, I won't insult you
by saying I'm sorry.  I'm no good at speeches.  Hell, this is all I know
how to do."

How many times had Bob lay on his back gazing up at the rugged construction
boss after work, his eyes gleaming with lust in his gypsy face, dark hair
falling over his forehead, his square, stubbled jaw clenched tight?  How
many times had he tensed, waiting for Randy to fall on him and pound his
ass like a wild stallion?  Not this time though.

Sure, the big guy was still wearing the dirty cargo pants and boots he had
put on after the fight, and his old faded tank top, filthy after the
ass-fuck had pounded him into the ground.  But now Bob watched spellbound
as the fiery caveman was transformed into gentle lover.  Randy pulled off
his tank, kicked off his boots and dropped his pants.  He paced naked round
the bed breathing deeply, never taking his eyes off Bob, his massive cock
swinging between his thighs.

He knelt at the foot of the bed and kissed Bob's feet, ran his tongue up
his legs, then licked his balls.  Bob gasped as he felt the stubbled chin
graze his cock and balls.  Then Randy pushed Bob's legs up and he buried
his face in his ass, probing it with his insistent tongue.  When he raised
his head he pushed Bob's legs further, leaning on them and doubling them
over Bob so their faces were inches apart.  Bob gasped as he felt his
lover's cock rubbing against his ass.

Randy's steel blue eyes bored into Bob's.  "I wanna make love to you,
buddy.  OK with you?"

"If you don't I'll slug you," Bob smiled – a mocking jab at what had
caused all this.  "You're a wild man, you know that.  But even a wild man
can be tamed.  I love you, Randy."

Randy's cock was now rock hard and he gently eased it into Bob's ass,
already wet with saliva.  Slowly it pushed in deeper and deeper until it
passed over the inner sphincter and came to rest.  "That's where we belong,
buddy.  Right there."  Bob sighed, "Mmmm ... do it some more."

Randy leaned forward and kissed Bob's eyes, then his mouth, as he pulled
his cock slowly back, then again penetrated the soft membrane of his ass.
He gazed at Bob's glorious face as it rocked from side to side in ecstasy,
then he gently twisted his nipples in his fingers.

"Aah." Reflexively Bob reached up and did the same to Randy, gazing up at
the dark, sinewy body rising and falling over him, feeling the infinite
pleasure of his cock moving inside him.

The pain and chaos of the day was fast slipping away and Randy growled,
"Fuck the world, buddy.  Come with me."  He grabbed Bob's wrists and pinned
them to the bed above his head.  Their faces were inches apart and they saw
themselves reflected in each other's eyes.  "You're my prisoner now.  Like
I've put a rope round your neck and pulled you into my world.  There's
no-one else there except you and me.  And I'm gonna keep you there
forever."

The magic happened again, as it always did.  They drifted into each other's
eyes, into each other's world, and it became one world – their world
where everything else faded into oblivion.  Randy smiled.  "See how grand
it is, buddy?  And it's real ... just you and me forever.  I'm in your
eyes, in your head..."

"Not to mention my ass," Bob said.

"Yeah, that too," Randy grinned, his blue eyes sparkling in his swarthy
face.  And now you mention it, you wanna feel my juice in your ass?"

"I may be your prisoner in this secret world of yours, but I can make you
cum any time I want."

"Sounds like a challenge.  Show me."  Randy drove his cock in deep and once
again it passed over the inner sphincter of Bob's ass.  Bob's eyes flashed
and he clenched his ass muscles tight round Randy's cock, trapping it
inside the furnace of the deepest cavity.  Randy gasped with a mix of pain
and exquisite pleasure and instinctively tried to pull back, but he was
trapped.

"Now who's the prisoner?" Bob gloated.  "Feel it?  Feel your lover's ass?
Feel the fire racing through your body?  Only one thing you can do.  You
gotta shoot, man ... in my ass ... in your lover's ass ... now!"

"Aaaagh..."  The unworldly cry curled round the room as Randy's cock
erupted deep in the secret cavern, as if Bob's whole body was sucking his
juice out of him.  He reared back and Bob saw the spectacular sight of the
rugged gypsy towering over him, his arms thrashing, black hair flying,
every muscle of his amazing body flexed as his manhood pumped out of him
into the fire of Bob's ass.

Randy gazed wildly at him, lowered his head to just above Bob's cock which
he pounded in his fist.  Instantly Bob howled, "Yes ... Yeess!"  His cock
blasted a stream of jizz straight up into Randy's open mouth.  He swallowed
hard until the torrent of cum finally stopped.  Then he fell forward,
clamped his mouth over Bob's and let the warm juice flow between them,
sharing the bitter-sweet nectar of their timeless love."

******************************

Randy and Bob were wrapped in each other's arms dozing.  At least this part
of the drama had been put to rest.  Their love might be put to the test –
it always had been throughout their turbulent relationship – but it was
unbreakable, no matter how severe the stress.  It was a force greater than
outside threats, greater than the men themselves, and they held each other
tight in the sure knowledge that it would endure.

Suddenly they were woken from their half-sleep by a booming racket outside.
Randy sprang out of bed, ran to the window ... and burst out laughing.
"You gotta see this, Bob."  Bob joined him and stared down at the twins in
the middle of the lawn.  Kevin was holding out a big brass gong hanging
from a rod and Kyle was energetically wielding a mallet with a rounded,
leather-covered end.

"Yeah," Bob smiled, "They told me they were going to get a dinner gong.
They were getting hoarse from yelling `Come and get it!' whenever a meal
was ready.  At least it's something you can't ignore – look, the boys
are already running to the table. Quick shower and we'll join them."

The gong had the desired effect and within minutes everyone was seated at
the table by the pool.  Bob and Randy were the last to put in an appearance
and the reaction was inevitable – loud cheers and applause.  It was
always obvious when the two men had been fucking as there was a glow about
them – "hot enough to set the brush on fire,' as Darius said repeatedly.

At least this boisterous greeting broke the ice of what could have been a
very chilly gathering after everyone had watched the drama that had the
potential of sowing lasting discord in the tribe.  But there were still
reverberations of it in the air and Pablo, with a sullen expression, was
sitting as far away from Jamie and Mark as possible.  Darius, loyal as ever
to this lover, had healed his immediate wounds but Pablo was far from
forgiven by the tribe.

However, the group usually took its cue from the leaders, Randy and Bob,
and if they had patched things up, as they obviously had, the signs were
good.  So conversation gradually returned to its usual pitch, even though
there was one question looming on everyone's mind.  With the efficiency of
the house grapevine they had all heard of "Steve's Plan" to restore harmony
and eyes kept glancing at him, waiting for him to reveal it.

The tension built and it was, inevitably, Randy who charged in head on.
"OK, doc," he said to his brother, "what's this great scheme of yours to
pour oil on troubled waters?  Careful though, bro.  Oil has to be handled
right or it bursts into flames."

But his light-heartedness turned darker as Steve explained, with all eyes
riveted on him.  "OK, here goes.  The four main players in this latest
drama are you Randy, Mark, Pablo and Jamie.  Everyone else is caught up in
the backwash.  In my opinion, what's needed is a time out, and I suggest
two separate trips out of town for a night or two – a different trip for
each man accompanied by a boy so they can sort things out away from the
house."

"That's it?" Randy asked scornfully.  "That's the big plan?  Each man
getting outta Dodge for a couple days with his boy, sort things out?  Shit,
that's a no-brainer, doc."

"No Randy," Steve smiled patiently, "you didn't get that quite right.  I
didn't say with HIS boy.  I said a boy.  You take Jamie, Mark takes Pablo."

There was a stunned silence round the table, broken by Randy who sputtered,
"What? ...  What?  You're kidding, right?  Jesus, I've heard you come up
with some cockamamie schemes but this one bites the big one.  Fuck, I don't
have to sit here and listen to this bullshit."

He stood up to leave but Bob said calmly and wearily, "Randy ... sit down."
Randy glared at him, at his big brown eyes ... and sat back down."  Pablo
too had been about to leave but he copied Randy and stayed put.  He knew
this crazy idea wouldn't fly anyway.  But as Steve explained more fully he
started to make sense.

"See, most confrontations have at their core a lack of communication – I
mean the kind of communication that comes from spending time together –
really getting to know each other.  Of course, all four of you could go
away together but that would most likely just perpetuate the anger and
hostility – man against man, boy against boy.  There's a lot of bad
blood here.

"But I'm betting that if each man and the other man's boy get better
acquainted they'll discover stuff about each other that'll help reduce
their suspicions.  Think of it as cross-breeding where different purebreds
mate and the resulting mixed breed is a lot more resilient."

"You calling us mutts?!" Randy exploded.  He was about to get up again but
Bob glared at him wide-eyed and he kept his seat.

"Well I think Steve makes a lot of sense," Mark said evenly, and Jamie and
I would go for it.

"Oh, is that so, asshole?  Well let me tell you, it'll be a cold day in
hell before I lend my boy to a fucking cop.  And if you trust me to be
alone with your kid you're a bigger fool than I thought."

"OK," said Steve calmly.  "That's good – a lot of food for thought
here. I expected your reaction, Randy, and I respect your opinion, but
maybe when you've talked it over with Bob you may see things differently."
Steve shot a knowing look at Bob who mouthed a sardonic `thanks buddy'.

As arranged, Lloyd had come to the house to join them for dinner and Steve
now turned to him and changed the subject entirely, infuriating Randy who
felt the wind go out of his sails.  The buzz around the table built rapidly
and more insistently than before, but Bob looked at Steve and smiled.  The
doctor knew exactly how to treat his brother and knew that handing the
reins over to Bob provided the best chance for his plan to succeed.

Which was exactly the case, though it took a long time and all Bob's skill.
His discussion later with Randy in their room began heatedly but Bob slowly
brought Randy down to earth like landing a jumbo jet gently on a runway.
More sex helped of course, where Randy was putty in Bob's hands, and when
they finally fell asleep in each other's arms Bob smiled to himself.

`It's a clichι but a true one,' he thought.  `Love sure does conquer all
– even a big gypsy.'

*****************************

Finally both men were on board with the idea – Mark willingly, Randy
grudgingly.  Steve suggested that the trip take place right away and they
agreed, with Randy growling, "Sure, let's just get the fucking thing over
with."

Bob had one concern that he discussed with Steve – would the boys be
safe in what was, after all, still an antagonistic atmosphere?  Steve
reassured him that Randy or Mark would be crazy to mistreat the boys as the
eyes of the whole tribe would be on them when they came home.  In any case,
Steve pointed out, it was in the men's own interest to prove they could be
magnanimous, worthy of their leadership positions in the house.

Jamie and Pablo followed their masters' wishes.  A slight pang of anxiety
was overcome by a tingling sense of adventure.  If Steve and Bob were all
for it they knew they would be safe.

The late afternoon departure was one of the noisiest the house had ever
seen, as everyone came out to the gate to see them off.  Randy had decided
to take Jamie fishing at the quiet lake high up in the forest above Los
Angeles.  That was familiar turf to him and he figured that if things
weren't working out he could always shove off alone in the boat in the
middle of the lake.

Bob suggested to Mark that Pablo could do with a clean-up and a bit of
sophistication as he spent most of his time, like his master, in grubby
work clothes with daubs of grease on his face.  Mark decided to take Pablo
to the Ritz-Carlton down the coast in Laguna where he had taken Jamie a
couple of times.  To set the tone Bob loaned him his sleek black Mercedes
for the trip.

Randy's truck was parked next to it, with the rowboat and fishing gear in
the back.  The other boys crowded round abuzz with excitement, with
elaborate farewell hugs as if Jamie and Pablo were taking a journey down
the Amazon rather than sixty-mile trips from L.A.

There was still a slight tension in the air but it was diminished when
Brandon reached up and hugged Jamie, then wheeled his way over to Pablo and
grinned, holding his arms open.  After a moment's hesitation Pablo knelt
down and held him in a long bear hug.  "Thanks buddy," he whispered in his
ear.  "I'm sorry for what I said to you – I didn't mean a word of it"

Then Brandon looked up at Mark and Randy and said, "Please take care of
them, sirs.  They're my friends."  Randy grinned and ruffled Brandon's
hair.  "Well, any friend of yours is a friend of mine, kiddo, so don't
worry – we'll all come back in one piece."  Bob smiled and nodded to
Pete whose eyes were gleaming with pride at his boy – Brandon the
peacemaker.

After a few quiet words of reassurance to their own boys Randy climbed into
the truck with Jamie, and Mark and Pablo slid into the Mercedes.  And they
were off.  Bob smiled at Steve.  "You sure about this, doc?"

"Sure I'm sure," Steve said.  "Just you wait and see."

*****************************

A short while later the Mercedes swung onto the Golden State Freeway headed
south.  No words had been exchanged so far between Mark and Pablo and
tension hung in the air, along with the luxurious scent of soft leather.
Mark was wearing blue jeans and the black ripped tank top that always
turned Jamie on so much.  He guessed that it would have a similar effect on
Pablo, and he was right, though Pablo would never had admitted it in a
million years.

The boys stole glances at the man beside him, at his hard-as-rocks shoulder
muscles and the contours of his pecs outlined under the tank.  As the car
sped along the freeway, flashes of sunlight played over Mark's chiseled
Nordic features.  Pablo's hand rested lightly on the obvious boner in his
jeans and Mark smiled to himself.

Suddenly Pablo broke the silence, saying abruptly, "I'm not gonna have sex
with you.  No way."

"Good," Mark retorted, "`cause I have no intention of having sex with you.
That's why I booked a room with two king-size beds.  As Steve said, this is
just a way of getting to know each other better.  But there are a few
ground rules.  First of all you will call me sir at all times.  Second, no
attitude.  Let's just relax and try to make this as pleasant as possible."

"Yes, sir," said Pablo, responding to the stem authoritarian tone in the
cop's voice.  After that Mark tried to break the ice by commenting on the
driving of others on the freeway, which segued into stories from his life
on the road as a cop.  It was a monologue at first but Pablo was genuinely
interested and slowly began asking questions.  And by the time they pulled
into the driveway of the Ritz-Carlton just over an hour later the tension
had greatly diminished.

As the valet came to the car door Mark pulled on a loose shirt over his
tank top.  You have to wear a shirt in this place, kiddo," Mark said.
"You'll do just fine in that Polo shirt.  More than just fine, actually –
just watch the heads turn."  He was right.  As the two of them strode over
the marble floor of the lobby heads did turn at the sight of the tall
Greek-God blond and the handsome dark haired young man beside him.

Pablo was impressed by their luxurious bedroom with its expansive view of
the ocean from the cliff top where the hotel was situated.  Tell the truth
he was in awe and a bit uncertain but Mark put him at his ease and they
took a shower – Pablo first, then Mark, though Pablo noted that the
shower was way big enough for two.

While Mark showered Pablo got dressed.  The twins had helped him pack
clothes suitable for a five-star hotel and, as he looked at himself in the
mirror in his neat slacks, his white open-neck dress shirt and tan jacket,
Pablo liked what he saw – a far cry from the grubby young mechanic who
usually stared back at him.  Then, in the corner of the mirror he caught
sight of Mark coming from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his
waist.

Pretending to admire himself he glanced at the muscular cop as he unwrapped
the towel and dried off, his muscles rippling in the sunlight streaming
through the window, his long cock hanging from a mass of blond pubic hair
and swinging between his thighs.  He realized that watching a man dress was
almost as sexy as watching him undress and, when he turned back to his own
reflection he saw that his tent-pole cock spoiled the line of his smart
pants.

By the time they were seated in the opulent dining room and Mark was
helping Pablo find his way through the menu the last shards of ice had
melted and Pablo was really getting into the fantasy of rich boy seated
with the most handsome man in the room.

The servers, young men and women who looked as if they had been hired for
their good looks, all flirted with them in the subtle way they had
perfected befitting a five-star hotel.  And when they turned to Pablo and
asked respectfully, "And for you sir...?" he acted as if to the manner
born.  "See?" Mark grinned.  "You don't have to be shirtless and swinging
your fists for people to call you sir, and mean it."

Pablo laughed and from then on the conversation flowed.  Mark steered it
toward cars and motor cycles as he knew that auto mechanics was the boy's
passion, and he had even worked for a while as a junior mechanic in the
Police Department motor pool.

Pablo launched into enthusiastic advice for the care and maintenance of
everything from Mark's motorcycle to trucks and the heavy equipment on the
construction site.  Mark was seeing a whole new side of Pablo –
confident, self-assured in his expertise, quite the opposite from the
insecurity that made him become the chest-thumping `senior boy' who usually
faced the world.

They drank copious amounts of wine and after-dinner drinks and when at last
they got back to their room they were feeling quite mellow.  "Hey, check
this out," Mark said, and Pablo followed him out onto the balcony.  A full
moon gleamed above the horizon, sending a carpet of rippling silver across
the sea toward them, almost up to their room as it seemed.  "That
something, eh, kiddo?"

"Yes, sir," Pablo said.  "Almost feel as if I could slide right down that
moonlight and splash in the ocean."  Mark turned and smiled at Pablo's
unexpectedly poetic turn of phrase.  Pablo looked round and gasped at the
glorious face lit by the silver light, square-jawed, high cheekbones, a
tangle of blond hair falling over his brow above the smiling blue-gray
eyes.

Pablo was about to reach up and touch the face but at that moment Mark
said, "Dunno about you, man, but I'm bushed – ready to hit the sack."
They walked back into the room.  "Which bed you want, kiddo?  Mind if I
take the one next to the window?"

"Sure, fine, sir," Pablo said, feeling a sense of disappointment that he
immediately suppressed.  He undressed and quickly slid under the sheets to
hide the erection that, he now realized, he had had all evening.
Surreptitiously he watched Mark get ready for bed.

Mark was gazing out of the window, and he stretched and yawned.  He
unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, his bare torso gleaming in the
silver light as he stretched again.  He kicked off his loafers, unbuttoned
his slacks and took them off, folding them neatly over the back of a chair.
Finally he dropped his boxers, stepped out of them and walked toward his
bed.  Backlit by moonlight Mark's naked body seemed to shimmer, surrounded
by a halo.  Pablo understood now why guys often referred to him as a god.

With a deep, satisfied sigh Mark climbed into bed and lay on his back,
pulling the sheets up only far enough to cover his dick, leaving exposed
his pubic hair, narrow waist, ripped abs and the slabs of his chest.  He
threw his arms above him on the bed, sighed, closed his eyes, and soon his
breathing became steady.

Coming out of a trance Pablo shook his head and realized he had been gazing
at the spectacular man, drooling even, and he felt pre-cum oozing out of
his cock.  Damn, he thought. He turned onto his other side, his jaw
clenched, fist pounding his pillow.  Damn, he had to sleep.

But a clenched jaw and tight fists are hardly conducive to sleep and he lay
wide awake.  He tossed from one position to another but nothing helped and
he found himself inevitably on his side gazing at the other bed and the
magnificent man lying on it, lit by the glow of moonlight.  Mesmerized he
watched him stir, watched him sigh and his muscles ripple until he subsided
again into sleep.

Suddenly Pablo was transported back to a scene from his earliest childhood,
one of those memory flashes that rise up unbidden from a long forgotten
past.  He was a small child, still living with his parents ... and he
couldn't sleep.  He was working too hard at it, trying to understand how a
person could suddenly lose consciousness just like that.  He couldn't work
it out and he was scared that he'd never be able to sleep again.  So he got
out of bed, tiptoed into his parents' room and tugged at the bed sheets.

 "Mom," he had said plaintively, "I can't sleep.  Can I get in bed with
you?"  He remembered her smiling, opening the covers, and he crawled in
beside her.

Now he was that child again, standing by Mark's bed, staring down at him.
He tugged at the pillow until Mark stirred.  "Sir, I can't sleep.  Can I
get in bed with you?"

Mark half opened his eyes and smiled.  "Sure, kiddo ... `course you can."
He held up the sheets and Pablo crawled in beside him.  The boy moaned
contentedly, a stray animal safe at home.  He felt the warm flesh of Mark's
back pressing against him and as he finally drifted toward sleep he
murmured, "But I'm not gonna have sex with you.  No way."

"Of course you're not.  And I told you to call me sir."

"Sorry, sir," Pablo smiled and wrapped his arms round him.

**********************************

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 252

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!