Date: Tue, 30 Aug 2016 22:20:02 -0400
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 326  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 326
By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER:

The strong, silent Marine Hassan becomes deeply depressed and doubts that
he belongs in the tribe. The main victim of his malaise is his boy Eddie
who sobs to his friend Brandon, "He chucked me out ... he don't want me
... I can't be his boy no more."  Hassan gets a visit from his buddy, the
cop Mark who says, "I know what you need, soldier.  And you need it rough."
A desolate Eddie leaves town.


CHAPTER 326 – "YOUNG EDDIE'S TRIAL OF STRENGTH"


************ In the previous chapter ***********

The big party that Grady and Mario threw at their house for the whole tribe
was, predictably, a wild celebration.  Pre-lunch appetizers involved a
muscle-churning no-rules water-polo match between four jocks where the
winners butt-fucked the losers.

Not to be outdone Randy, the tribe's leader, offered his ass to any guy who
was man enough to take it, a challenge that was accepted surprisingly by
Doctor Steve.  So, under the astonished gaze of the whole tribe the King of
the Gypsies surrendered his ass to ... his own brother!"

Grady had urged their houseboy Brian to invite his uncle Mike, the
middle-aged leather-bar owner from Palms Springs.  After watching the
triple orgasms of Randy, Steve and their kid brother Ben, Mike said to
Randy's lover Bob, "Man, I have never seen anything to match that.  What a
family!  Yup, Randy and his brothers stole the show, alright."

When the show was over lunch was served and the tribe came together round
the big table by the pool.  Now that the horseplay, posturing and preening
had died down the group became more talkative and civilized – or what
passed for civilized in this clamorous tribe.  Randy and Bob chatted with
Steve and Mike, mostly about the tribe, discussing the various couplings
and relationships as they watched the animated crowd.

Most of the other men sat with their boys and tried to carry on an adult
conversation in competition with the noisy exuberance of the youngsters.
One voice dominated the boys' conversation as usual.  Eddie's clattering
stream of consciousness was non-stop, noisier than ever after his
excitement of watching such riveting sexual spectacles.  It seemed that the
more excited and garrulous he became, the more silent his master, the
soldier Hassan, became.  Several times he tried to restrain his boy, though
it was tough to get a word in sideways.

In fact, ever since the group had assembled today, the strong, silent
Marine had been less talkative than usual, it seemed to Bob, whose
sensitive antennae always kept him aware of the currents flowing beneath
the surface of the gathering.  Bob commented on Hassan's silence to Steve
who, as a therapist, was equally attuned to the group dynamic.

"Seems a bit out of sorts," Steve agreed.  "I think he's under pressure at
work – a new batch of Marine recruits testing his patience and putting
him on edge.  And his boy's constant chatter can't help.  Hassan loves the
boy, we know that, but it's kind of a mismatch – the silent, reclusive
Marine captain and the gregarious young kid rattling away like a machine
gun."

Bob looked at the irritated expression on Hassan's face and frowned.  "I've
never seen him look at his kid that way, Steve.  Kinda ominous, don't you
think?"

"Well, all relationships have their ups and downs, of course, especially
one between a master and boy who have as little in common as these two.
It'll probably blow over, though.  And if not you'll be there to pick up
the pieces."

"Yeah," Bob sighed, "that's what I'm afraid of.

********************* CHAPTER 326 *********************

As the meal progressed the situation became even more uncomfortable.
Eddie's excitement mounted, he lost all sense of decorum and talked louder
and faster than ever.  He was on such a high, so uninhibited, that he did
not even respond to Hassan's hissed commands to tone it down.  The boy
totally failed to grasp how serious and irritated his master was, wrongly
assuming that Hassan was joining in the playful bantering of the other men
jokingly mocking each other.

In fact, Hassan had come to the party straight from a morning meeting at
his Marine base where things had not gone well.  Used to being in complete
command at such meetings his ideas had been challenged by an opinionated
young Marine sergeant moving rapidly up in the ranks.

Eddie, of all people, should have known better.  He had once told his buddy
Brian that, as an authoritarian Marine captain, "Nothing riles Hassan more
than being disobeyed.  He expects everyone to do exactly what he tells them
at all times.  Usually he's the strong, silent type but he goes apeshit
when guys disobey him and he don't get what he wants.  If he's had a real
rough day at the base he's usually still mad when he gets home.  But I can
handle him.  A good blow-job always does the trick."

On that previous occasion Hassan had been irrationally annoyed to find
Eddie in bed with Brian and had, as Eddie said, `gone apeshit' and fucked
him savagely.  It took Doctor Steve to calm Hassan down.  Bob had learned
of that incident and was aware of the soldier's occasional morose and
explosive moods, which is why he winced now at what came next.

Eddie was in full flood, laughing and joking with his buddies, when Hassan
growled, "I told you to cool it, boy.  Be quiet!"

Mistaking Hassan's tone Eddie turned to face him and mischievously imitated
the famous old Robert De Niro line – "You tawkin' to me?  You tawkin' to
me?  You tawkin' to me?"

Seeing Hassan's eyes blaze and his fists clench, Bob quickly defused the
situation with a light-hearted, "Very funny, De Niro, but if you'll let me
get a word in edgewise here, Eddie, I need a word with Hassan.  Hassan, I
keep meaning to ask you something... a colleague of mine is planning a trip
to the Middle East but he's nervous about the security situation and I
thought I would pick your brains."

Hassan looked from Eddie to Bob's smiling brown eyes, swallowed hard and
allowed himself to be distracted.  Crisis averted.  Living with Randy, Bob
had long ago perfected the art of calming the beast and he now engaged
Hassan in a subject where the Arab soldier was an expert.  Peace reigned
... for now.

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

As the meal stretched through the afternoon it became more and more
informal, breaking up into groups.  The boys huddled together as usual,
excitedly rehashing the earlier sex scenes between the jocks in the pool
and the spectacle of Randy getting fucked by his brother.

The men too divided into smaller groups and couples, with Bob and Steve
staying close to Hassan, trying in a light-hearted way to draw the Marine
out of his morose funk.  But it was obvious, especially to Steve with his
therapist training, that their intervention didn't help and that only time
and solitude would eventually lighten the soldier's sullen mood.

Unfortunately time and solitude is what he did not get.

Sometimes when Hassan came home from work in a bad mood the thought of his
effervescent boy waiting for him would be a welcome antidote to the heavy
atmosphere of sullen Marines.  But at other times the naturally reclusive
soldier longed to close the door of his small house in the hills and chill
out all alone.

In truth, his Arab/Asian background, opposing America in a brutal Middle
East war, had left him somewhat alienated socially, with a deep-rooted
sense of not fitting in, despite joining the U.S. Marines when the war
ended.  So he sometimes distanced himself from the rowdy Americans, even
members of the tribe whom he loved, like Mark and Bob.  And the last thing
he wanted right now was a boy's incessant chatter.

All of which resulted in his being the first to leave the party as it
showed signs of starting to wind down.  Bob and Steve were not surprised to
hear him say, "Guys, I gotta go.  Had a rough morning at the base before I
came here ... some of those guys can be real mother-fuckers.  Listen,
Steve, do you think you could bring Eddie home when he's done cleaning up
here?"

As Hassan's guesthouse was on the grounds of Steve's big house that was a
simple request and Steve willingly agreed.  Hassan kept his goodbyes short,
limiting them to thanks to Grady and Mario and a quick handshake with Mike
before he quietly left and drove away in his jeep.

He heaved a sigh of relief at being alone at last, and now that he could
indulge his gloomy thoughts without interruption his melancholy deepened.
It made him irrational, his usually placid mood now tinged with darkness.
He was in one of those depressions where he questioned all aspects of his
life – his life as a soldier, his position in the Marines and even his
place in the tribe, where his ethnicity sometimes made him feel culturally
out of place.

He especially questioned what now felt like an odd relationship with a
talkative young urchin whose non-stop chatter made him seem to Hassan, in
his current negative mood, shallow and irritating.  They were, after all,
the exact opposite of each other, as different as two people could be.  Of
course, what the tormented soldier left out of his ruminations, something
that had no place in his current dark thoughts, was the unpredictable
nature of love that defied all logic.

At last he reached Steve and Lloyd's darkened house and walked down the
path to his small guesthouse.  He went in, closed the door behind him and
lay on the bed.  At last – solitude.

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

At the Grady House Eddie was surprised when Steve told him Hassan had left
and that he would run him home to Hassan's house.  But Eddie was on such a
high that even the fact that Hassan had said nothing to him before he left
did not tip him off to his master's especially bleak mood.  He was having
fun with the other boys clearing up after the feast, and drinking copious
amounts of the remaining wine.

When he was ready to be taken home Steve was relieved that Eddie would not
be driving himself, as he was clearly the worse for drink.  As he sat
behind Steve and Lloyd on the way up to Mulholland, Steve tried tactfully
to prepare the boy for Hassan's mood.  "Er, when you get home, Eddie, it
might be as well if you give Hassan some space and don't talk too much.
Hassan's in one of those gloomy moods of his where silence is the best
medicine."

"Oh," Eddie said brightly, "I'm used to his bad moods, sir, but I can
handle them.  I'll soon cheer him up ... hearing about my day makes him
forget the shitty day he's had.  And in no time he'll be pushing my mouth
down on his cock and bingo – everything's fine and dandy."

Steve sighed and rolled his eyes to Lloyd sitting beside him.  He even
thought of inviting Eddie to spend the night in their house and leaving
Hassan alone but as soon as they drove down the drive Edie was out of the
car and bouncing down the path with a cheery "Thanks for the lift, sir"
over his shoulder.

He stumbled against the door and almost fell into the house, rousing Hassan
from a placid doze.  Slurring his words he shouted "Hey, wake up, sir, your
boy's home – troubles are over.  Steve says you're in a bad mood, but
nothing that a good blow-job won't solve, eh?

"You left the party too early, you know.  It was a blast – Jason got
naked and jumped in the pool but Adam said he was too drunk to swim and
tried to pull him out but, guess what?  Jason pulled him in, so then Darius
jumped in to save them and all hell broke loose.  'Course, by that time
Grady and Mario had gone to bed to make love.  Hell, those guys spend half
their lives in bed.  Brian says that whenever ...

"Be quiet!  Shut up!" Hassan yelled.  "For god's sake stop talking for once
in your life, boy."

"But you like that, sir."  Eddie was now on a drunken roll, totally out of
control and throwing caution to the winds.  "The trouble with you, sir, is
you don't talk enough.  Hell, all the way through the meal you sat staring
down at the table like you weren't even there.  You've gotta lighten up,
sir, or the guys won't even invite you to the parties.  Just `cos you're
this big stud Marine ..."

"I said shut up ... shut up!"  Hassan leapt off the bed, eyes blazing and
slapped Eddie across both cheeks.  The shock at last silenced the boy who
stared at the fierce soldier in confusion.

"All I fucking want is some peace and quiet, and what do I get?  A kid who
can't keep his trap shut, boring me and everyone else with his incessant
drivel.  I just need to be alone ... I like my own company and need to live
alone.  I don't need a boy, least of all a kid who can't stop yapping.
Today all I or anyone else at that table could hear was your voice and it
drove me fucking crazy."

He turned his back on Eddie.  "This master/boy thing's not working for me.
It was probably a mistake from the first.  So that's it, kid, we're done,
finished.  Get out."

"But, sir, that's not fair!" Eddie yelled as tears of panic and defiance
sprang to his eyes.  "I ain't going nowhere just `cos you're in a bad mood.
You owe me at least the ..."

The Marine spun round to face him and roared, "Are you defying me, boy!?
Nobody defies me!  I don't owe you a damn thing.  Now if you don't get out
of here so help me I'll ..."

He raised his hand, Eddie saw the fire in his eyes and he stumbled out the
door.  As he staggered up the path he heard the soldier's deep voice
bellowing, "And don't come back!"

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

His master's brutal words and the slap across his face had sobered the boy
up and now his bravado gave way to the slowly dawning realization that
something terrible had just happened.  All he could think of were Hassan's
words ... "I don't need a boy" ... "this master/boy thing's not working for
me" ... "we're done, finished" ... "get out" ... "and don't come back."

That drove everything else from his mind and he struggled to focus on what
he was doing, where he was going.  Instinctively he climbed into his truck,
groped for the keys in his pocket and started the engine.  Tears blurred
his eyes as he drove up the driveway, reached mechanically for the gate
opener on his sun visor, and saw the gate swing open before him.

He took a deep breath before pulling out onto the road.  He could think
only of Hassan, Hassan, as he drove unthinkingly with no destination in his
mind.  So he was surprised to eventually find himself parked in front of a
neat bungalow.  He blinked, wiped the tears from his eyes and knew where he
was.  Brandon's ... he had driven instinctively to the house of his best
friend.

He got out of the truck, stumbled to the house and hammered with both fists
on the front door yelling, "Let me in ... let me in" – almost, in his
addled mind, as if yelling to Hassan.  The porch light came on, the door
opened and there stood Pete.

"Eddie ... what's the matter?  What's happened?"

"He chucked me out.  He chucked me out, he don't want me no more."

"Come in, boy, come in."  Eddie stumbled into Pete's arms and Pete held him
tight, stroking his hair as the boy sobbed on his shoulder.

Brandon and Pete had been having a nightcap before bed, indulging in their
favorite thing – talking out the party.  Now Brandon wheeled himself up
and said, "Dude, what's happened?" Pete signaled to him to leave Eddie
alone and let him cry it out.

When Eddie's sobs grew weaker Brandon took his hand and led him to the
couch where he sat and stared at them wild-eyed.  "He chucked me out ... he
don't want me ... said I talk to much ... sick of it, he said ... sick of
me ... the boy thing not working ... he chucked me out ... I can't go back
`cos I talk to much ... do you think I talk too much?"

"Eddie," Brandon grinned, "you are talking too much right now.  Calm down
and I'll get you a brandy."  He went to get the bottle and Pete said,
"Sounds like you and Hassan had a fight.  Happens to the best of us, kiddo.
But it always blows over."

"Not this time," Eddie said as the tears flowed again.  "He was real mad,
slapped me, told me to get out and not come back.  I've got nowhere to
go..."

"He hit you?" said Brandon handing him a brandy glass.  Brandon frowned at
Pete who said, "Well, kiddo, you're staying here tonight and for as long as
you like.  Listen, I'm not taking sides here but I am gonna call Hassan and
tell him you're here in case he's worried.

While Brandon sat with Eddie, Pete called Hassan from another room and told
him Eddie was with them.  Sounding exhausted Hassan replied, "OK, thanks
Pete.  I don't wanna talk to him," and abruptly rang off.  Taken aback,
Pete returned to Eddie who asked, "What did he say, sir?"

"Er, he sounded very tired, Eddie, but he knows you're safe with us.  Now,
the guestroom is all yours."  Pete pointed discreetly over his head at
Brandon who nodded eagerly, so Pete asked, "Would you like Brandon to sleep
with you?"

"Yes please, sir," Eddie said weakly.  Brandon lead him into the guestroom,
then came back for a last word with Pete.  "Thanks for doing this, Brandon.
He seems real shook up and I don't think he should be alone.  He'll find it
easier to talk to you.  I know you wanted us to sleep together as usual but
I'll make it up to you tomorrow, OK?"

"It's cool, sir.  After all, that's what friends are for."

"That's my boy," Pete smiled, ruffling Brandon's hair.

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

As they lay together in bed Eddie reached out to Brandon and hugged him
tight ... as if clinging to a lifebelt.  Brandon wasn't sure what to do
except to say lamely, "Don't worry, dude.  Everything's gonna come out
alright I'm sure."

"Do you think so?" Eddie whimpered "Do you think he'll take me back?  When
he told me to get out he said don't come back.  He's all I got, dude.  The
only good thing about me is that I'm a Marine's boy.  It makes me somebody.
Without that I'm just an assistant houseboy."

"Eddie, that's crazy talk.  We all love you because of what you are
... fun, great company, loyal, loving ..."

"And a loudmouth."

Brandon teased, "That too.  Actually I was about to mention something else
you do with your mouth besides talking.  You're the best cocksucker in
town."

"Hassan used to love it when I sucked his cock.  Maybe that's all I was for
him – a good blowjob – and he got tired of that too."  Tears started
to flow again.

"Thing is, dude, I love him.  I love waiting for him to come home, making
the house look good for him, fixing his favorite drink.  I used to stare at
him when he didn't know it and my heart beat like a drum.  I would have
done anything for him, Brandon, anything.  But now he ... he ..."  He broke
down in sobs and Brandon felt tears on his shoulder.

"Listen, Eddie, best not to dwell on it right now.  Things will look
different in the morning and we'll take it from there.  Whatever happens,
you'll always have me.  Remember that time when I was struggling up the
hill in my wheelchair with my groceries to my lonely apartment and you
helped me and became my friend.  You had the guys from the tribe fix up my
apartment and after that I never looked back.  You saved my life, kiddo,
and I'll never forget that."

Eddie pulled himself together and sighed.  "You're the best, dude.  But I'm
keeping you away from Pete.  I bet you were gonna have sex when I barged in
like that.  Seems I'm bad news wherever I go ... no good for anything."

"Hmm, not entirely true, kiddo," Brandon grinned.  "Feel this."  He guided
Eddie's hand down to his stiff dick.  "See?  You're right ... I was horny
when you came in but I can think of one other guy besides Pete who could
easily take care of that."

"Who?"

"You, you dipshit – the best cocksucker in town."

"You wanna blowjob, dude?"  Eddie brightened at the thought that someone,
at least, needed him for something."

Brandon realized that bringing up sex was the only distraction that would
help right now.  He said, "You know in the days of my old solitary life,
when I was feeling down and depressed I'd flip on a porn video and jerk off
to it.  Sex always helped me feel better ... at least for a while.  So how
about it, dude?  One good thing," he smiled, "you can't talk and suck at
the same time."

"Don't you believe it, dude," Eddie said and his mischievous grin appeared
for the first time.  At least sucking dick is one thing I'm still good
for."

"And if you like," Brandon said casually, "I'll munch on your dick too
... if you can get it up.  I'm pretty good at that ... I was taught by the
best."

"If I can get it up!" Eddie scoffed, rising to the challenge –
literally.  "You forget, dude, I'm the `little gusher'.  You want the best
blowjob in town?  You've come to the right place."  Eddie quickly flipped
round so they were lying in their sides head to toe, their faces level with
each other's cock.  Eddie licked Brandon's cock gently at first and Brandon
copied the master.

Within seconds their cocks were sliding to the back of the other's boy's
throat, and their heads were bobbing up and down in unison.  As Brandon had
said, he had been taught by the best and he now followed his teacher's
rhythm and technique so the boys were giving each other identical bursts of
pleasure as they clenched, released, swallowed – all the hallmarks of a
master blowjob.

They had done this before but this time was especially intense.  This time
it was not only the physical act of sucking cock.  Much more than just
sexual pleasure, it was an act of healing performed against a background of
Eddie's shock and grief and Brandon's impulse to help the friend who had
helped him so much in the past.  It was a profound act of love that, in its
youthful purity and passion, was at least as strong as the affection
between more mature men.

The boys moaned with pleasure as they squeezed, teased, caressed the
other's cock in their mouths while reaching over and grabbing the mounds of
the other's ass, feeling them flex as the pelvis moved back and forth.

When they adjusted their position Brandon's mouth came free momentarily and
he moaned, "Dude, you are so fucking great at this ... my dick feels
awesome in your mouth."

Eddie, disproving Brandon's former `can't-talk-and-suck' assertion, opened
his mouth and, still sucking, his voice muffled, slurred, "Awesome, dude,
don't stop ... keep sucking."  At that moment Brandon loved his friend more
than ever and his laughter was stifled by Eddie's dick sliding back in his
mouth.

They were both so expert, so much in sync, that they felt the climax
approaching at exactly the same time.  Eddie mumbled something that sounded
like, "I'm gonna cum, dude," but Brandon didn't need the verbal prompt.  He
felt Eddie's rod bulge in his mouth as his own shuddered in Eddie's and
with loud groans they blasted cum deep in each other's throat.

Eddie quickly pulled back, twisted round to face his friend and their
mouths locked as they exchanged semen and swallowed hard.  Eventually their
lips separated and Eddie grinned, "Dude, you are the best pal a guy ever
had.  I could do it over again, dude, but I'm feeling tired.  Can we sleep
for a while?"

Brandon wrapped his arms round him, providing a warmth and comfort that
gave an exhausted Eddie the oblivion he needed to banish his troubles
... until the morning.

In the room next door Pete had heard their muffled shouts of pleasure and
smiled to himself, thinking once again how he had lucked out having a boy
like Brandon.

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

But of course, in the morning Eddie woke to the agonizing realization that,
no, it had not been a bad dream.  It was true ... he was no longer Hassan's
boy.  And the dampness of his tears woke Brandon as Eddie wept silently
against him.

Instinctively Brandon knew that what Eddie needed right now was routine.
So he said, "Jeez, look at the time ... we gotta make breakfast and head
for work, dude."

"I ain't going to work today, dude," Eddie mumbled, "if ever."

"You gotta go, man.  You're working in the office with Jamie today as part
of your training.  Plus you gotta help me get breakfast for Pete before he
goes to work.  There's stuff in the kitchen I can't reach, even with the
pull-down shelves."

That appeal for Eddie's help did the trick and soon they were all eating
breakfast.  Pete agreed that Eddie had to go to work, appealing to his
toughness as a member of the tribe.  When a man like Pete threw out that
kind of challenge no boy could refuse.

Pete had called Bob to tell him what had happened and Bob knew it would be
the source of dismay and gossip everywhere so, with the help of Jamie and
the twins, he put out the word that everyone should be kind and considerate
with Eddie but not take sides in a dispute between master and boy.

Actually, Bob's biggest problem in that regard was with Randy, whose
reaction was predictable.  "He did what!?  He threw the boy out?  He hit
the boy?"  That was a red rag to a bull, sure to rouse the fury of an
impulsive man sworn to protect his boys, which included all the boys of the
tribe.  "Mother-fucker.  Wait `til I get hold of the son-of-a-bitch and he
feels my fist in his face."

"Randy, Randy please.  Remember what you always say about not getting
involved between a man and his boy?  The situation is delicate enough and
you'll make it ten times worse."  He groped for a scare tactic.  "If ... if
you do that you ... you can't sleep with me tonight."

It was the first threat he could think of and it made Randy smile despite
his anger.  "Yeah, right," he grinned, "like you're gonna keep me out of my
own bed.  You try a stunt like that and I'll fucking tie you down, whip
your ass and fuck the shit out of you."

"Promises, promises," Bob smiled.  But the point was made and Randy backed
off.  In skirmishes like this Bob always won.  Randy knew that and loved
Bob the more for it.

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

When Eddie arrived at the office in the tribe's compound Jamie was already
there and gave him a long, loving hug.  There was nothing to say – words
would only have salted the wound.  When they broke apart Jamie became
businesslike.  "Brandon's working up at the Grady House today so we have a
shit load of work.  Here let me get you set up on this computer."

Throughout the morning Eddie tried hard to concentrate, with Jamie's
concerned but discreet supervision.  But the attempt to drown his sorrows
in work failed.  Every time the phone rang he jumped on it thinking it
would be Hassan asking him to come back, but it was not to be.  As the
bitter truth sank in that Hassan really didn't want him, that he was no
longer the Marine's boy, his misery deepened.

During their morning break he tried to concentrate on the guys he loved
most, like Brandon ... and Darius.  The easy-going, macho young black guy
was the first man from the tribe Eddie had met.  When Eddie had still been
working as bar-back at Mike's leather bar in the desert Darius had dropped
in with his leather-master Zack, and Eddie's attraction to the handsome,
muscular Darius had quickly ripened into hero worship.

So now Eddie walked in a haze of deepening gloom up to the apartment Darius
shared with his boyfriend Pablo.  As it happened they were both there
getting ready to go to work at the construction site.  Darius, shirtless in
black jeans as usual, opened his arms and Eddie found comfort wrapped in
the muscular arms of the young man he idolized.

As Jamie had done, Darius held him tight without speaking at first, then
said simply.  "Kiddo, I know you're hurting, but you gotta take a deep
breath and wait until the dust settles.  Don't do anything rash.  You know
Pablo and me are here for you, and you can even sleep with us tonight if
that helps."

Then Pablo hugged Eddie and said, "You know, dude, I had a long talk with
Mike when I was last at his house and he gave me some good advice.  He said
I was living so much in Randy's shadow that I didn't cast a shadow myself.
He suggested that, even while I loved and obeyed my master, I should
sometimes act more independently, be my own man instead of just being a
man's boy.  And you know what?  When I did that I became more confident,
assertive, more of a man ... and Randy loved me for it.  Everyone's
different of course, but it worked for me."

Eddie talked with them a bit more before they had to go to work.  Then, as
he walked across the garden back to the office, their words resounded in a
tangled mix in his brain.  He admired and respected Darius but it was
Pablo's words that had the most impact.  `Act more independently ... be
assertive ... be your own man.'

Pablo had been unaware of the dangers of passing on second hand advice he
had received, and Darius's suggestion had been sounder.  But Eddie didn't
know that.  All he knew was the unbearable sadness of not having Hassan,
not having a master in this tribe of masters and boys.  He felt small,
insignificant, alone.  He didn't fit in anymore.  He longed for security, a
security he had once known.  And suddenly he knew what he must do.

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

Hassan had slept fitfully.  Having the bed to himself for a change
fulfilled his need for solitude.  On the other hand, when he reached out
for his boy in his sleep ... there was nobody there.  That woke him up but
he reasoned that this was an automatic reflex after sleeping with the boy
for so long and it would soon fade.

He was used to waking up to the smell of coffee and the sound of Eddie
rattling around in the kitchen, but this morning there was no coffee and no
sound.  Well, he thought, at least he wouldn't have to sit at the breakfast
table listening to an endless recitation of his boy's plans for the day.
For a split second he wondered what Eddie's plans today were, but this too
he put down to habit, a habit he no longer had to indulge, so he dismissed
the thought.  The plans were Eddie's business now, and that was that.

He himself had the day off – a day all to himself.  He knew ... he would
go out for breakfast at that little place he used to hang out at.  As he
drove away he felt liberated, having only himself to please.  But at the
coffee shop he ran into a fellow Marine who sat with him and droned on with
complaints about pay scales, pensions and V.A. benefits until Hassan tuned
him out.  He couldn't wait to get back to the tranquility of his house.

When he did get back and opened the door he half expected Eddie to come
hurtling out as he usually did and throw his arms round him.  But no Eddie
and no noise, thank god.  He settled back with the newspaper he had bought
... and heard the ticking of the clock.  It was one of those sounds he had
got so used to he didn't hear it anymore ... but now he did, loud and
clear.

He glanced round the room and his eye settled on something on the floor in
the corner.  It was Eddie's favorite old blue sneakers, the ones he always
wore unlaced and caused Hassan to warn him to be careful not to trip.  For
a few seconds he felt inexplicably moved by the sight of the old scuffed
shoes so typical of the scruffy young kid. But that feeling too he shrugged
off.  All this would fade away, he thought, as he stuffed the shoes in a
closet – out of sight out of mind.

As it happened, Hassan was to have company that morning.  Mark, before he
reported for his afternoon shift, had come up to Steve's house for his
regular anger management session with his therapist, Steve, mandated for
all cops on the force.  After the usual, helpful 50-minute hour Steve had
mentioned the business between Hassan and Eddie and hinted that Mark might
want to go down the path to Hassan's house and check to see how he was
doing.

Steve was well acquainted with the love these two dominant men had for each
other, forged long ago in the crucible of war when they were on opposite
sides and Mark had been Hassan's prisoner and subjected to harsh
interrogation.  That traumatic event had led to an unlikely love between
the two soldiers so physically and spiritually intense that it had lasted
to this day.

Mark was in his full police officer uniform, intending to go straight from
here to work, but he had an hour to kill so he went down and knocked on
Hassan's door.  There was no answer and Mark assumed he was out but he
knocked again.  In a few seconds the door flew open and Hassan said, "I
thought I told you never to ..."  His voice trailed off as he saw the
handsome, uniformed blond cop standing there.

"Mark ... sorry, I thought you might be ... sorry ..."  Hassan was wearing
only old boxer shorts and he now embraced Mark with a fierceness that Mark
had seldom felt.  There was obviously more to this than the usual friendly
greeting.  "Hey, come in, buddy.  I was just laying ... er ... relaxing on
the bed.  Day off ..."

"In blissful solitude," Mark grinned.

"Yeah, you could say that."

I heard all about you and the boy, buddy.  The grapevine, you know.  How
you feeling?'

"Fine," Hassan said unconvincingly.  "Just fine."

"Buddy, it's me, Mark.  I said how are you feeling?"

Hassan shrugged, forcing a grin.  "Takes some getting used to, man."

"You wanna tell me about it, dude?  Just between us?"

"Hell, Mark, it all suddenly got to me.  I had a shitty day at the base,
with some fucking whiz-kid sergeant talking back to me.  I'm not blind, I
know what they think of me, a `stinking' Arab who came over from the enemy
to join the Marines and is now giving them orders.  Throw Asian into the
mix as well as Arab and I've heard it all behind my back – camel jockey,
sand nigger, chink.  I could put them on a charge but that would only
advertise the problem so I've learned to ignore it and swallow my pride."

He shrugged helplessly.  "Man, I don't fit in here and I never will. That's
why I keep to myself.  Even in the tribe I'm different from everyone else
and I often wonder if I really fit in there."

"Now wait just a goddam minute, here, buddy," said Mark raising his voice
in anger.  "That's kind of insulting, don't you think?  Have you ever heard
anyone in that group, man or boy, speak of you in disparaging terms?  Shit,
is that what this is all about, your fear of racial prejudice?  I thought
this was all about your boy.  That kid hero worships you.  Have your ever
heard him badmouth you like that?"

"No, of course not, man, the kid loves me like crazy, I know that and I
..." He paced the room clenching and unclenching his hands in frustration.
"I'm fucking lost, man.  I don't know what I'm saying.  It was just all
that stuff at the party – you guys having such a great time and, after
the morning I had at the base I ... I felt, I dunno ... left out.  I'm no
good at small talk.  Then with my kid talking non-stop the way he was it
was driving me insane."

"But you used to love that about him.  Made you laugh.  Dammit, buddy, I
saw the love in your eyes."

"Do you know I hit him, Mark?  I slapped his face.  That proves I'm not fit
to have a boy.  I just want to live alone, be a soldier like I used to be,
no ties except to the military."  He sat on the bed, leaned back on his
elbows and stared up at Mark.

"You know when I think I was happiest in my life, Mark?  It was when I fell
in love with you.  That's why I came halfway round the world looking for
you.  Mark, I need a man!  An honest to god gorgeous, macho, alpha
son-of-bitch stud like you.  I need you, man."

His eyes filled with tears and Mark's heart went out to this troubled,
beautiful man with whom he had shared so much.  "I know what you need, man.
I know just what you need."

He raised his leg, pressed his boot on Hassan's chest and shoved him on his
back on the bed.  Mark knew that his words `alpha son-of-bitch stud' were
code for `rough'. To eradicate thoughts of a lightweight kid, Hassan needed
to feel the dominant strength of a man like himself.  And he needed it
rough.

Without pausing to shed his uniform Mark pulled the Marine's near-naked
body up the bed and met no resistance as he stretched one wrist upward and
tied it to the corner bedpost, using the rope Hassan always kept there to
thrill his boy in happier days.  He tied the other wrist to the other
corner then stood back and his blue-grey eyes bored down on the bound
solider spread-eagled before him.

Just as Brandon had done for Eddie, Mark knew that sex was the quickest way
to dispel Hassan's dark mood ... temporarily at least.

Hassan looked up at the handsome blond cop in his black uniform that hugged
the contours of his stunning physique.  That sight always turned him on –
the broad shoulders, muscular torso narrowing down to the slim waist
cinched by his heavy police belt.  The black serge pants were tucked into
high, shiny motorcycle boots and the only contrast to the all-black uniform
was the triangle of white T-shirt under his open collar.

Mark undid a couple more shirt buttons and Hassan glimpsed the shape of his
bulging pecs under the T-shirt.  The cop unzipped his pants, pulled out his
raging hard cock and stroked it slowly in his fist.

"This is what you need, man, right?  Remember how we first met in the war –
you the dark, handsome Arab, me the blond American soldier stripped to the
waist – how you chained me to the wall and tortured me?  Remember how
you looked into my eyes and fell in love with me ... how you released me
and I overpowered you and it was your turn to be bound naked like you are
now?  Remember how you struggled in bondage?  But you didn't beg for
release ... you begged for something else.  Let me see it, stud.  Let me
hear it."

Hassan looked up at his bound wrists and tugged at them.  His biceps
flexed, his muscles rippled as his magnificent body writhed on the bed and
his head thrashed from side to side, his black hair flying, until he gave
up the hopeless fight and stared pleadingly up at the cop.  "You know what
I want, officer.  Fuck me, fuck my ass.  I need to feel your cock in my
ass, I need it real bad.  I beg you, man.  Fuck me ..."

Mark knelt on the bed between his captive's spread legs, reached down and
ripped his thin shorts clear off.  He held them up to his own face, inhaled
deeply, then stretched forward and jammed them into the soldier's mouth,
gagging him.  He gazed down in awe at the chiseled square-cut features of
the exotic, olive-skinned face and said, "Man, you are so fucking beautiful
and you are gonna get so damn fucked."

He spat on his cock, stroked it some more, then pushed the Marine's legs
high in the air.  "This is what you need, soldier," he growled, and in one
swift, savage move, plunged his rod fast and deep into the naked Marine's
ass.

The bound man's eyes spurted with tears, he screamed into the gag and his
body bucked and writhed as the piston pulled back and began a brutal
assault on his ass.  Summoning all his military strength and training to
resist torture Hassan flexed hard, but the pain was soon overcome by his
need ... his need to feel, to feel something real, something rough, to feel
Mark, the rugged blond cop, pounding his ass.

After all his uncertainty and confusion he felt like a man again, a man
enduring pain, a man seized by lust and passion.  He was alive ... he was
in love."

Mark gave his buddy the gift of domination, using all the strength and
force in his powerful body as his hips rose and fell and his shaft buried
itself in the Marine's hot ass.  It was a savage fuck, the physical
onslaught Hassan needed to conquer his confusion and self-doubt – a
tortured ass replacing a tortured mind.  As the pile-driver continued its
relentless pounding Hassan's muffled screams into his gag were for "more,
harder ... hurt me!"

But Mark knew his friend's limit and eventually began to slow down, from a
ruthless hammering all the way to a gentle massage of the soldier's
shattered ass.  He tugged the ragged shorts from his mouth, pulled them
round his neck and used them to pull his head a few inches up off the bed,
their eyes boring into each other.

"Man, you look so fucking hot.  You have no idea how the guys in the tribe
are turned on by that chiseled, dusky Arab/Asian look of yours.  Racist?
Of course they are, if racism means lusting for an exotic look like yours.
They love you, man, don't you get that?  Men and boys – any one of them
would gladly surrender his ass to you.  They respect your silence – they
don't want your small talk – they want your big body and massive cock."

Mark continued to caress Hassan's ass as he smiled and spoke softly.  "As
for me, I love you, man, always have.  When I'm horny and my boy Jamie's
not available I pound my dick and rub one out just for you, buddy.  Now,
I'm gonna fill your ass with my jizz, soldier, but before I do I want you
to show me that most of what you told me today was bullshit, your own
paranoia.  And there's one way to do that."

Mark lowered Hassan's head back on the bed, leaned forward and pressed his
hands on the soldier's biceps, so their faces were inches apart."  Hassan
gazed up and said, "I love you, man.  You're right, I was talking bullshit.
Forgive me, Mark.  Kiss me man."

Mark gazed at Hassan's full lips, open slightly, seductively, and lowered
his mouth onto them.  Their lips touched, slid gently, softly together,
then licking, biting, the pressure increasing to a full-on churning kiss,
tongues probing, reaching a searing climax that begged for release ... in
the only way possible.

Mark pulled his face back and smiled into the dark, slanted eyes.  "Cum for
me, soldier.  Show me how much you love me.  Feel my big dick in your ass
and cum."  Hassan's eyes opened wide, he strained at the ropes round his
wrists, his body shuddered and he groaned as semen poured from his cock
over his ripped abs.

"Now you, man," Hassan begged.  "Please, let me feel your jizz in my ass
... yeah, that's it ... oh yeaaah."  His head flew back, his mouth opened
in an animal howl as he felt the cop's dick bulge inside him, then release
its sperm, like a healing balm deep inside his ravaged ass.

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

"I'm gonna be late for work," Mark said a few minutes later as he untied
the ropes from Hassan's wrists.  They gazed at each other with a look that
needed no words.  Mark zipped up his pants, buttoned up his shirt, then sat
by the bed, forearms resting on his thighs as he spoke.

"Now I can't give you any advice about your current problem, buddy, that's
for you to sort out.  But I will tell you a story.  Quite some time ago I
had a real problem with my boy Jamie.  I caught him doing drugs in the
dunes with his surfer buddies.  My whole cop law-and-order thing merged
with my shock and disappointment and I went crazy.

"I told Jamie he was not my boy anymore and drove him down to the tattoo
parlor to have that tattoo of my initials forcibly removed from his
shoulder before I threw him out.  He was panicked, devastated, and ran away
and escaped before we went into the shop.  I think it was Bob who made me
see reason, made me realize how much I still loved my boy and how it was my
duty to protect and teach him when he made mistakes.  I went to find him
and held him in my arms.

"And you know, buddy, I will never forgive myself for how badly I made that
boy suffer.  I'm ashamed of that to this day.  Now that's just me and I
realize all men and all situations are different.  So my story may have no
relevance.  I just thought I'd share it with you, my friend."

They hugged, Mark left and ran up the path leaving Hassan alone in his
house.  Alone, the way he liked it.  Yeah, people were different, he
thought.  He wasn't Mark and Eddie wasn't Jamie.  Anyway, Eddie was safe
with his buddies, guys his own age, and Hassan was one of the men.  He had
just had great sex with one of the leaders of the tribe.  So everything was
balanced – as it should be.

There was only one thing wrong with Hassan's reasoning.  Eddie was not safe
with his buddies.  Far from it.

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

After the lunch break Jamie came back to the office expecting to find Eddie
there.  But instead he found a note, scribbled on a piece of scrap paper.

"Dude – I love you dude, but I gotta go.  I can't work for you no more
so this is my rensig ... rensingnation.  I can't even be in the tribe
anymore cos I don't have no master.  I guess I fucked up bad so now I gotta
just suck it up and get on with my life.  I gotta be my own man, more
asertive ... so that's what I'm gonna do.  Tell the guys I love them all
... specialy my amigos.  You've been great to me, Jamie.  I'll allways
remember you for that.  Bye, dude.  Eddie.  P.S.  If you see Hassan, tell
him I put his clean laundry in my bottom drawer cos there wasn't room in
his.  He won't think to look there.

Jamie stared at the note in shock and confusion.  He was struck not by the
misspellings but by words like `assertive' and `my own man'.  They weren't
Eddie's.  He had heard Pablo use them but ..."  He immediately called
Eddie's cellphone but it went straight to voicemail ... must have switched
it off.  Then he called Bob and read him the note.

They talked it over and Bob said Jamie should low-key it so as not to
spread alarm.  "Tell the boys quietly, especially Brandon, but don't call
Hassan yet.  There's nothing he or anyone could do until we hear from
Eddie.  I'm sure we'll get word soon, or at least he'll turn his cellphone
back on.  So keep trying that number."

Jamie thanked Bob, hung up and said to himself, "Dumb kid ... fuck Hassan."

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

Eddie was on his way back to Palm Springs to get his old life back, the
life he had before he moved to L.A.  As he drove his old truck east on the
freeway toward the desert he recalled the trip west so long ago on his way
to find Darius and all the guys Darius talked of.  All the guys ... his
started to think of them ... his buddies the `three amigos', himself, Ben
and Brandon ... Brandon, so brave in his wheelchair, the best buddy a guy
ever had.

Tears started to flow and he tried to hold them back.  He must try not to
cry or he wouldn't be able to stop.  No, he had to be strong, independent
like Pablo had said, and look what that had done for him, the boss's boy.
He wouldn't think of the tribe, only his new life, actually his new/old
life in the desert.  He used to have fun there, didn't he?  And he would
again.  He grabbed the steering wheel hard, clenched his jaw and put his
foot on the gas ... headed east.

Two hours later Mike was working alone in his garden on his vegetable patch
that Randy had cleared for him last time he was here.  He had only just got
back from L.A. after spending the night in the Grady House as a guest of
Grady and Mario after the big party.  He chuckled to himself thinking over
the wild events of that day and realized how much he loved that crazy
tribe.  He had promised to stay in touch and Bob had given him most of the
guys' cell numbers.

In an hour or so he would be opening the bar for the beer bust.  One of the
regulars was having a birthday so it would be crowded, and he was short of
staff.  Suddenly he heard a car pull up at the gate and he frowned.  He
wasn't expecting anyone.  Then, to his astonishment the gate opened, and
Eddie strode in ... strode in!

"Eddie!  What in fuck's name are you doing here?  Is Hassan with you?"

"No, sir," Eddie said loudly (assertively).  "We ain't together no more, so
that's why I'm here.  I want my old job back."

Mike took a deep breath.  "Sit down at the table here kiddo while I go get
us some beers."  Mike caught his breath as he went in the house, his mind
racing.  Obviously the boy was in a state.  He was making a pretty lame
attempt at sounding tough but he had clearly been crying and still had
dried tears on his cheeks.  Phew, this would take a lot of tact, Mike
thought.

He came back out, sat down facing Eddie and handed him one of the beers.
"So, my young friend, tell me.  What's going on?"

"Well, sir.  I walked out on Hassan.  The master/boy thing wasn't working."

Mike raised his eyebrows.  "Eddie, this is me, your old pal Mike.  Now cut
the crap and talk to me."

Eddie crumpled before his eyes and the whole story poured out.  Mike
listened without interruption until the boy ran out of words.  "So I came
here, sir.  I want my old life back, and my old job back ... if it's still
open."

Mike gazed at him.  "Hassan hit you, you say?"  Eddie nodded.  "Did he tell
you he don't love you anymore?"

"No, sir, but he said I talk too much and he needs silence and wants to
live alone.  He told me to get out and not come back."

Mike turned and gazed out across his garden.  In his long life he had seen
relationships come and go, had seen love catch fire and then, a few weeks
or months later, crash and burn.  Some relationships had clearly run their
course and needed to end.  Others needed to be salvaged.  The love between
the Marine and his boy Eddie was definitely in the latter category.

He had seen the way Hassan looked at his boy, seen his dark, exotic face
glowing with love as the mischievous young urchin had prattled on, gazing
up at his Marine in total worship.  Sure they were an improbable,
mismatched pair but, as Mike knew well, love sprang up like a flower in the
most unlikely soil.  So what was going on here?  It was clear, Mike
thought.  In a word – bullshit.  His mind raced like a computer ... let
see, it's a two-hour drive from L.A.  In a few minutes Mike turned to face
the boy.

"OK, Eddie, you want your old job back at the bar?  You got it, kid.  As a
matter of fact your timing's great.  My bar-back just quit on me ... fell
in love with a guy, upped and quit.  And we got a big beer bust coming up.
But you'll have to start in an hour.  Why don't you take a swim and wash
off the dust of the freeway while clean up inside?"

Eddie was kind of surprised at Mike's ready agreement and felt a moment of
panic that his return to his old life had become a reality.  So it was with
mixed feelings that he took off his clothes and cooled off in the pool.

Indoors Mike was searching through the list of phone numbers Bob had given
him.  He punched one of the numbers into his phone and waited.  "Hey there,
soldier, how you doing?  It's Mike ... you know Uncle Mike in the desert.
Listen, I just wanted you to know that young Eddie is here.  Yeah, he told
me you two had split up and I'm sorry to hear that but I thought I should
give you a heads up that he's OK."

At the other end Hassan was non-committal ... or stunned, Mike couldn't
tell which.  "Yeah," Mike continued cheerfully, "matter of fact it worked
out pretty good.  My bar-back here just quit on me and Eddie wants his old
job back so ... that's that.  Fate working its magic.  I'm real glad `cos
Eddie was always really good at keeping the place clean, swabbing floors,
picking up empty bottles and ... other stuff.

"Plus he's great for business, real popular with the guys, especially the
leather daddies.  That back room sees more action when he's working ... and
I do mean working ... on his knees.  Shit damn, the line is out the door,
guys waiting to get one of his famous blowjobs ... well I don't need to
tell you what a great little cock-sucker he is.  And he makes a bundle in
tips."  Mike chuckled.  "Don't worry, I give him knee-pads to strap on,
he's on his knees so long in the middle of that room.

"Well, he's raring to get back to work so we gotta go.  Bar opens soon and,
once he's picked up all those bottles, he'll be on his knees in a couple of
hours from now.  One of the regulars is having a birthday, so guess what
his present's gonna be.  OK, just so you know Eddie is here and doing just
fine.  Hope to see you and the guys real soon, stud.  Gotta go now."

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

Hassan shut off the phone and stared at the wall, trying to process what he
had just heard.  His mind was reeling, racing over the last twenty-four
hours ... his rotten morning at the base, then the rowdy party, guys
laughing and yelling, his boy Eddie louder than most ... that smiling face,
his rippling laugh.  It had annoyed him at the time and he had needed some
quiet, some space.

Then Mark this morning, giving him the macho fuck he needed so bad.  Mark's
story of when he had almost lost that gorgeous boy of his.  And now the
phone call from Mike.  Eddie was back in the desert, he was safe and
... happy?  Working as a bar-back, fending off groping hands, then on his
knees with a line of fat cocks waiting to fuck his mouth?  Eddie ... his
boy Eddie ...

Hassan yanked open the closet to get a shirt ... and out fell the blue
sneakers that he had earlier found so moving and stuffed in there
... Eddie's old scuffed unlaced sneakers that Hassan was always afraid
would trip him up and make him fall to his knees ... to his knees ...

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

Eddie knew exactly where to look in the bar, where guys would stash their
empty beer bottles ... the dark corners, under benches, behind poles, that
shelf in the toilet.  He walked around the crowded room picking them up
automatically as if he had never been away.  He recalled those days when he
had been a cheeky young star, enjoying their teasing, lewd suggestions,
hands that groped and grabbed his ass.

It had been kind of fun back then before he knew any other life.  But now
it was humiliating and made him want to cry.  But he had to be tough.  He
knew he was at one of the lowest points of his life so far but he had to
man up ... be his own man, be independent.  Like Brandon, who had taught
him all about independence ... and bravery.

He thought of Brandon and Brian in their wheelchairs and felt ashamed of
his weakness.  Hell, they had guts.  What were his challenges compared with
theirs?  Brandon living alone for so long with only his porn collection for
company.  And Brian with his hopeless existence alone in his battered old
trailer in the desert.  Brandon was real brave ... and Brian was learning
to be.

He smiled to himself as he thought of them ... but then thinking about them
made him choke up.  He was not one of their posse anymore, Brandon, Brian,
Ben.  He would probably not see them again for a long time, and when they
came out on a trip to the desert they would see him picking up empties as a
humble bar-back.

He took deep breaths to hold back the tears and forced a smile at the
drunken taunts of the old leather guys.  He would be strong ... strong for
Hassan ... no, stupid, not for Hassan.  That didn't work anymore.  So he
thought of the future ... a future that right now lay in the back room.

The time had come when the guys, like moths to a flame, were starting to
assemble in the back room.  He looked over at Mike behind the bar who
glanced anxiously at the clock, nodded and came over to him holding the
knee pads.  Eddie looked him square in the eyes and said firmly, "I don't
need those, sir," in a last pitiful attempt to show how tough he was.

Mike followed him into the dark room where the boy pushed his way to the
middle under the single red light.  There was a murmur from the crowd as he
knelt down, looked at the line of guys, some with their cocks out already.
He closed his eyes, and ...

"Back off!"  There was some kind of commotion at the door as the commanding
voice barked again.  "I said back off!  That's my boy.  My boy!  Nobody
lays a finger on my boy, and the only dick he's gonna suck is mine!"

Eddie felt himself being lifted up on his feet, felt muscular arms fold
round him and heard a deep voice murmur, "Forgive me, Eddie."  He opened
his eyes to find himself staring into the dusky, square-jawed face of the
man he loved.

"This is no place for a boy of mine.  I'm taking you home, kiddo."  Hassan
picked the boy up bodily, slung him face down over his shoulder and wrapped
an arm tight round his dangling legs in front.  His head hung down limply
behind Hassan's back.

As the crowd parted and Hassan strode to the door Eddie raised up his face.
In the crowd he saw a grinning Mike who winked at the boy and gave him two
thumbs up.

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

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 327


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 invite 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