Date: Fri, 18 Feb 2011 02:35:56 -0500 (EST)
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: A Trail Of Stength - Part 9  by Rob Williams

Here is the latest adventure of the two glorious muscle gods, Randy and Bob.

I should perhaps mention that as the series progresses the cast will expand
to six guys, three masters and the three boys who serve them. (One of the
masters is "the most beautiful cop ever to straddle a Harley.")

The action will become less brutal than the current S&M scenes as it
explores their relationships, though there will still be plenty of hardcore
action.

But for now, I hope you get off on the latest chapter.  As always, I
welcome your feedback, so email your thoughts to me at rw6789@aol.com.

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


A TRIAL OF STRENGTH ... Part 9
by Rob Williams

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

As they drove back to the city the two men were at last completely relaxed
with each other.  No, it was much more than relaxed.  They knew now that
they were bound together in an inextricable union, ethereal even, that went
far beyond thought or reason.  They were of the same flesh, blood brothers,
whose feelings, sensations and intuitions were in complete harmony.

For two straight men, confident, self-assured, muscular alpha males, love
was a word they had been reluctant to use, but that was before their
extraordinary experiences in the remote seclusion of the high Angeles
National Forest.  Pounded by the violent thunderstorm, they had experienced
an epiphany and screamed their love for each other.  They had crossed the
last physical boundary and penetrated each other's bodies, anointing each
other with hot streams of semen like a baptism.

Their relationship had been forged in a crucible of pain, with each
beautiful man undergoing bondage, savage whipping, punishment and
humiliation.  Their friendship had undergone many changes until, as Randy
fucked Bob's beautiful ass, they knew without a doubt that Randy was
master.  Bob would submit to him, physically and sexually, whenever Randy
wanted.

With one hand on the steering wheel Randy threw his arm across Bob's broad
shoulder and they drove home.

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

'Home' was the wrong word.  As they let themselves into the squalid motel
room they knew at once that they had to move.  They would establish a new
life together.  But for now ... they exchanged knowing looks and read each
other's mind.

"One last time in this rat-hole?" Randy asked.

"Yes, sir.  Please."

As Randy held Bob's intense gaze he ran his hands over the sweat-stained,
powerful muscles and began to strip his buddy naked.  He pulled the
mud-caked tank over his head, over the solid six-pack abs, then the
stunningly defined chest muscles. He loosened Bob's jeans and, falling to
his knees, removed the boots and jeans and looked up at the glorious man,
naked except for his boxers.

He stood up, stripped off his own clothes, and turned Bob round to face the
full-length mirror.  He took two long ropes from his bag and tied the
bodybuilder's wrists to the beam in the ceiling, his arms spread wide.  He
kicked Bob's legs wide apart and tied one ankle to the bed and the other to
the hook in the opposite wall.

Standing behind him, he reached round and in one swift wrench ripped the
boxers clear of his body.  Bob's big cock swung free as he stood naked,
spread eagled, straining in tight bondage.  The wide stretch of his legs
made him clench the cheeks of his ass into hard, bulging mounds.

Randy picked up the whip with the multiple leather thongs and looked at the
prefect V of his friend's lats as they tapered down to the slim waist and
perfect ass.  The back was a blank canvass just waiting for the whip.  The
ass was an inviting pure white that was begging to be warmed up.

Randy brought the whip crashing across the heaving back muscles and the
huge body convulsed in pain and pulled at the restraints.  After thrashing
the back, Randy turned to the flexing bulges of the beautiful ass.  He
lashed it repeatedly until it had changed from pure white to an angry red.
He continued the torture until both men were exhausted and streaming with
sweat.  Randy threw down the whip and pressed his body close behind Bob.
He breathed in his ear.

"God, you are so fucking hot.  You should be put on display, you know that?
People would pay good money to see that.  Now that you've been thrashed and
your ass is on fire, look in the mirror.  Get a good look at yourself,
stretched and helpless.  Now look into your own eyes."

His back and ass still stinging with pain Bob got off on the glorious image
in the mirror.  It was as if he was looking at a beautiful stranger, until
he gazed at his face and saw himself reflected in his own eyes.  As he
drank in the sight, his cock began to stiffen and he watched as it grow
into a raging erection.  Randy had shown him how to make love to his own
image.

Randy stroked the mounds of Bob's whipped ass and his own cock quickly
stiffened.  He knelt behind him and buried his face between the beautiful
mounds, pushing his tongue as far as he could into the warm, moist hole.
Both men groaned in pleasure as the big construction worker hungrily
licked, sucked and ate his buddy's tortured ass.

Finally Randy stood up and again pressed his body into Bob's back.  He
brought his raging hard-on closer to Bob's ass and stroked the opening with
the huge head of his dick.  He drove Bob to a pitch of desire.

"Please, sir.  Please.  Put it inside me.  Fuck me.  Fuck my hole.  It's
yours."

Randy eased forward and his huge rod slid easily inside the furnace of the
ass.  He pushed it deep and let it rest all the way inside him.  He brought
his hands round to Bob's chest and twisted his nipples.  Bob moaned in
ecstasy as he looked at the reflection of himself and the dark, burly man
behind him whose cock was deep inside his ass.

Slowly, Randy pulled back until the head of his cock was almost clear, then
just as slowly he pushed back in.  Bob's muscular body, spread eagled in
bondage, was at the mercy of the sinewy construction worker.  And this is
how it continued for a long time, both men lost in the rhythm of their
bodies moving together, the huge rod churning inside the clenched ass that
was now on fire.

Randy knew how to excite his buddy.  The pain of the vicious whip torture
was now replaced by the slow, tender movement of Randy's cock sliding
gently in and out of the bound man's ass. Fucking could be brutal, but this
time it became a loving, almost spiritual sensation.  They held each
other's penetrating gaze in the mirror as the fire in their groin
intensified.  They knew they were both close.  Randy pushed deep inside his
friend's ass and then ... he stopped still.

They were both motionless as their cocks grew rigid.  Without moving Randy
felt his pulsing cock begin to pour semen into the man he loved.  At the
same time he watched Bob's cock pour a thick stream of creamy liquid onto
the mirror.

Feeling his own orgasm and watching his friend's it was for Randy as if he
saw in the mirror his own flood of semen splashing against the glass.
Their orgasms had become one, their cocks pulsing and erupting in one
incredible spontaneous stream. They never left each other's gaze, never
uttered a sound.  They stared in silent wonder at the two beautiful men in
the mirror erupting in endless ejaculation.

Randy held his cock inside his buddy for a long time.  Then slowly he
pulled out and stepped back.  Quickly he released the heaving body and
dropped Bob onto the bed.  He lay down beside his friend and held him
tight, their flawless bodies joined together by the sweat pouring off them.
That was the last time they would make love in this squalid room where they
had shared so much.  It was now time for them to build their life together.

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

It is a fact of life that, when two people fall in love, all the other
issues or problems they face pale into insignificance.  It is as if they
live a charmed life.  And so it was with these two straight men who were
undergoing major life changes, their lives turned gloriously upside down.
The two self-sufficient alpha males were now joined as one, doubly strong,
and there was nothing they couldn't do with and for each other.  Everything
fell into place for them.

Bob had no problem transferring to the larger and more prestigious Los
Angeles office of his firm, where he would soon be made a vice-president.
On the personal level he knew that his marriage had disintegrated and his
wife had not unexpectedly filed for divorce in Northern California.

Randy's days as an itinerant construction worker were over.  The
L.A. company he worked for took him on full time as a site foreman.  His
marriage back in San Antonio back was also foundering; he had known for
some time that his wife had a lover.

The men looked for a place together, and finally leased a house in the
Mount Washington section of the Los Angeles, an old-established, hilly
neighborhood, it's narrow, winding streets lined by large, mature shade
trees.  The house was a good-sized old craftsman home that needed some
work, which Randy could easily handle.  Best of all, there was a large
basement that had once been used as a gym.  The full-length mirrors were
still in place, as were the various chin bars, hooks and spot lights.  They
guys knew that it had definite possibilities.

So they left the seedy motel without regret, though as they took one last
departing look their minds hovered briefly back on the extraordinary,
traumatic and painful events that had forged their friendship.  Then they
drove away to begin their lives together.

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

In the weeks before their new jobs began the two men spent most of the time
together and established a comfortable daily routine.  They spent hours
fixing up their new home, though money was tight until their paychecks
started coming.

One regular feature of their lives was their daily workout at the gym where
they could indulge their physical needs, working hard in strenuous,
exhausting routines.  Part of their satisfaction was in watching their
buddy's muscular body flexing, stretching and straining with weights and
cables. The image excited them in anticipation of the private physical
exertions they would enjoy later at home. Randy was especially turned on as
Bob hung from the chin bar and punished his ripped muscles in repeated chin
lifts.  His chiseled face grimaced in pain, his lats flared and the veins
were etched in his chest, biceps and shoulders.

Randy was not the only one to be turned on.  The two magnificent men turned
many heads, male and female, as the other members surreptitiously watched
the stunning workout partners challenge each other in bone-crunching
exercise.  And when they swam after the workout there was many a hidden
erection as guys watched the beautiful bodies, wearing only Speedos, climb
out of the pool, their gleaming muscles streaming with water.

Two of the members, older guys, were especially focused on the dazzling
sight.  They made no secret of their admiration and Randy and Bob were very
aware of their eager attention.  In fact they purposely flexed and
strained, knowing the effect they were having.  As the two friends relaxed
afterward at the juice bar Bob said,

"You're such a fucking exhibitionist, you know that?  Those guys were
totally turned on watching you."

"Watching us, you mean.  I told you before, some people would pay good
money to watch you and your incredible body.  You're such a fucking
turn-on."

As if to confirm their words, the two older guys came over to the table,
sat down and introduced themselves ...  Paul and Mitch.  After some small
talk, Mitch said,

"You guys are a total turn-on, and I think you know it.  So I'll come
straight to the point.  Paul and I have a circle of friends, about twenty
guys, who have formed a sort of club.  We are all quite wealthy, and we are
all voyeurs, meaning that we get off watching and drooling over gorgeous
men.  And you are two of the best."

"Look," Randy said hastily, "there's one thing you should know.  We're both
completely straight."

"We know that," Mitch replied.  "That's obvious.  And that makes it all the
better.  You see, we have a proposition.  Here it is in a nutshell.  Spend
twenty-four hours with us and the other guys and just let us get off
watching your beautiful bodies.  That's it.  We would make no sexual
demands, wouldn't even touch you .... just watch.  You both apparently have
quite an exhibitionist streak and you're very competitive, and that's
perfect.  There might be some self-inflicted pain involved, but I suspect
that you guys are no stranger to that.  Am I right?"

Randy and Bob grinned in silent affirmation.

Mitch continued, "What's in it for you, you ask?  Apart from getting off
looking at each other, which I'm sure you do, there's five grand apiece.
Cash.  As I said, we're all wealthy and we have quite a setup in the
Hollywood Hills.  You'll be perfectly safe, well cared for.  And you'll
have a good time.  Talk it over.  We'll be back in a minute."

The guys walked away, leaving Randy and Bob gaping at each other.  They
were not sure they could get their minds around this astonishing offer.
Randy broke the silence.

"Well, we could sure use ten thousand bucks right now.  And the guy's
right.  We're shameless exhibitionists and I never get tired of looking at
you.  I've always wanted to show you off to an audience.  Getting paid is
the icing on the cake.  We can take care of ourselves, and each other. How
about it?"

The deal was sealed.  When Mitch and Paul returned they gave their address
and a date was set for the next Friday evening.

"You don't need to bring anything," said Mitch. Just your glorious selves."

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

As they drove along Mulholland Drive on the spine of the Santa Monica
Mountains high above Los Angeles, the guys were feeling a mix of
anticipation, excitement and some apprehension.  They finally swung into
the driveway of a large estate hidden behind trees and high hedges.

"Very impressive," said Bob. "Sure beats that old motel room we knew and
loved."

"It should be impressive," Randy grinned, "if they can afford ten grand
just to watch two guys get off one each other.  Well, let's give them
something they'll remember."

They buzzed the intercom and a voice said, "Hi, guys, welcome," and the
gate swung open.  A few minutes later they were standing with Mitch in a
room that amazed them.  It was basically a large gym, lined floor to
ceiling with mirrors and with chin bars, hooks, rings, wall bars and
various other pieces of equipment.  One half of the room was an empty
raised platform, with elaborate theatre lighting hanging from the ceiling.
At the other end of the room were benches and chairs for an audience.  It
was in fact a small theater, just waiting for the performance to start.

"Elaborate, no?" asked Mitch.  Several members of our group are studio
executives so they have access to lighting, costumes, all the effects you
need for a show.  That's where you guys come in.  The other members will be
here soon.  Come with me and I'll show you where you can change.  Bob and
Randy were taken to separate rooms on either side of the stage, elaborate
dressing rooms with racks of clothes of every description.

"Let's get started," said Mitch.

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

Half an hour later Randy and Bob walked out of their rooms onto the stage
that was pitch dark.  They were aware from the muffled sounds that the
audience was now seated.  After everyone settled, the ceiling lights came
up slowly.  A collective gasp came from the spectators.  The two men were
face to face and took a sharp intake of breath as they looked at each
other.  What they saw made their cocks stiffen.

Randy had never seen Bob look more stunning than he did now.  He was
wearing a full cop uniform.  The black shirt, with shoulder flashes on the
sleeves, a police badge and nameplate on the pocket, was open at the neck
to give a glimpse of the white T-shirt underneath.  Bob's broad shoulders
and big chest were evident under the tight shirt, the sleeves pushed up by
the bulge of his biceps. The shirt tapered to the slim waist of black pants
with a silver stripe, tucked into high shiny black boots.  Attached to the
heavy black belt were regulation handcuffs.  Bob's eyes were hidden behind
mirrored sunglasses.

Bob was equally turned on by the sight of his buddy.  Randy was in full
leather ... tight black leather pants, heavy black boots and a leather vest
over a sleeveless denim shirt that barely concealed a white tank
underneath.  His muscles bulged under the shirt, his bare shoulders and
arms gleaming under the lights.  He too wore mirrored sunglasses.

Near them, at an angle to the audience, was a big full-length mirror.
Standing side by side the two guys turned to look into it.  In this way
they were facing the spectators who, in the darkness, were just a blur to
them.  They gazed at their extraordinary images in the mirror, and the
audience was equally awestruck at the unbelievable sight.

Although dressed differently the two men were equal in size, muscularity,
authority and stunning beauty.  As they looked at the supremely masculine
images side by side Bob and Randy instinctively knew that this was to be a
trial of strength to determine dominance.  One of the men, the cop or the
leather man, had to come out on top. Subconsciously they also knew that
this was also exactly what the club members wanted, turned on at the
thought of watching these two men battle for supremacy.  As a kind of
trophy, a broad leather collar was prominently displayed at the side of the
stage.  The loser would wear it.

But before the battle began the cop and the leather man had to acknowledge
the other in recognition of his strength and beauty.  Their dicks were now
raging hard and they both unzipped their pants and pulled out the huge
rods.  Their eyes riveted to the dual image before them, they began to
stroke their meat as they gloried in the sight of this ultimate archetype
of masculinity.

As the fire rose into their groin they took off their glasses and stared
into each other's eyes.  A smile came to their lips as they silently
acknowledged each other, and they shot simultaneous streams of hot white
semen out toward the gasping spectators.  The club members had never seen
anything to equal this and there were more than a few orgasms among them.
The lights faded to black.

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

Now the battle had to begin.  When the lights came back up the men were
facing each other and Randy reached over to Bob's shirt.  Very slowly he
began to unbutton it, revealing more and more of the white T-shirt
stretched over the bulging pecs.  He pulled the shirt out of the pants and
it hung open.  Randy unbuttoned his own shirt slowly, uncovering the white
tank.  He took off the leather vest and let the shirt hang open.

Turning to face out to the spectators the men took off their shirts and let
them drop.  There were more gasps from the club members as they took in
this stunning new image.  The cop was now stripped to his T-shirt, which
stretched over the massive chest and tapered down into the tight waist of
the cop pants.  The leather man was spectacular as his muscles strained
against the old white tank tucked into his leather pants.  Again there were
moaning sounds of men reaching orgasm.

Randy looked around for what should be the first test to see who was the
tougher and stronger of the two.  Hanging from the ceiling behind them, as
part of the gym equipment, hung two sets of rings used for pull-up
exercises.  Randy looked at Bob and each understood what the first trial
was to be.  Together they jumped up and gripped the rings, each man hanging
side by side.  They hung motionless, their straining muscles flexing to
absorb the pain, the cop in white T-shirt and the leather man in white
tank.

Slowly they began to move to relieve the throbbing in their arms.  They
reached up to grab the ropes, twisted their bodies and thrashed their legs
in attempts to ease the pain so they could hold on longer.  The twisting
bodies were reflected multiple times in all the mirrors surrounding
them. The spectacle of these two bodybuilders writhing and kicking as they
hung before them brought gasps and moans from the spellbound spectators.

The show lasted a long time as both men were determined not to drop first.
Their bodies streamed with sweat, so the T-shirt and tank became
transparent, clinging to the muscles etched underneath.  Their shoulders
and arms racked with pain, the cop and the leather man began to groan in
agony as they gripped the rings hard and thrashed in pain.  They began to
taunt each other.

"Give up asshole.  You know you can't win."

"Go fuck yourself.  You're nothing.  You'll never last."

"You piece of shit.  Submit.  Give in.  Your muscles are ripping apart.
Drop, dammit."

They were losing their sense of space and time, forgetting where they were
and how long they had hung there, but they held on interminably.  Finally
it was as if they blacked out.  They released their hold and dropped
simultaneously, both men sprawling on the floor.  Neither had won.  They
lay one atop the other, lungs gasping, their ripped bodies heaving in pain.

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

Now standing facing each other they knew that it would take a huge effort
for one to defeat the other.  And it was becoming personal.  The cop and
the leather man again gloried in the sight of each other.  Their bodies
gleamed with sweat and the shirts clung tightly to the heaving chests.
Time to strip them off.

They turned to face out to the audience and reached up and back behind
their neck, pulling the shirts slowly up and over their heads.  Again there
were gasps from the spectators as they saw first the hard, defined six
packs of their abs, and then the shirts rose up and over the pecs until the
perfectly defined chests were on full view.  The shirts came clear and
dropped to the floor.

There they stood, side by side, the beautiful cop and the swarthy leather
man both stripped to the waist.  The one was now wearing just tight leather
pants and boots, the other just the regulation police uniform pants and
tall shiny leather boots.  It was too much for several of the onlookers and
again there were sounds of guys shooting their load.

The bare chests were too glorious not to be tortured, and the equipment was
right at hand.  From a table at the rear of the platform Randy picked up
two sets of tit clamps and a length of rawhide.  He gave one set of clamps
to Bob and, gazing steadily at each other, each man attached the clamps to
the other man's hard nipples.  There was a sharp intake of breath as the
clamps bit into their chests.

Randy tied the rawhide to the chain linking his own clamps and the other to
Bob's.  They both understood what came next.  They walked backward until
the rawhide tightened and pulled at the tit clamps.  The pain in their
chests instantly doubled and they gasped as they held each other's gaze.

Again, the sight for the onlookers was stunning.  Two muscular, shirtless
men, a cop and a leather man torturing each other, their nipples viciously
clamped and straining against each other.  It was another trial to see
which man would submit first, who would fall victim to the other.  The rapt
onlookers could hardly believe the test of strength and toleration of pain
that they were witnessing.  The men flexed and groaned as their chests were
brutally tortured by the other man.  Their nipples burned in agony, but
they never eased up.  They pulled tighter and tighter until they were both
screaming, shouting obscenities to each other, begging the other to submit.

The men were lost in a mist of pain, feeling that their chests would be
ripped open, when suddenly the clamps were torn from each of the massive
chests and fell to the floor.  As they were ripped off the pain was
unbearable and both men screamed and fell to their knees.  They looked at
each other and knew that the game was not yet over.

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

There had to be one defining test that would decide the winner once and for
all.  Again, the table at the back of the platform provided the tools.  On
it were two black leather bull whips, handles attached to five-feet long
lengths of woven black leather used to subdue large animals.  Few men could
withstand many lashes from these brutal weapons.

The whip fight would be the deciding contest.  It was now serious and
personal.  Their masculinity was on the line.  Holding whips the cop and
the leather man, both shirtless, began to circle each other, their images
reflected in the many mirrors.  The men knew what they had to do but
hesitated, knowing the pain they were about to inflict.  Bob flicked his
whip at Randy's chest and it hit his ravaged nipples.  In an angry reflex
Randy brought his whip curling around Bob's flexed muscles and the loud
crack caused the shirtless cop to yell and spasm with pain.

The whip fight was on.  They bobbed and weaved, seeking an opening.  Again
and again the whips curled around the powerful bodies, leaving red stripes
on the sweating heaving muscles.  It was a brutal battle, with the whips
landing more and more savagely, the two beautiful men screaming as each
lash curled around their bodies.

The spectators started yelling, urging the two shirtless men on, but soon
begging them to stop as they witnessed the increasing brutality of the
fight.  The men looked into each other's agonized eyes as they circled and
viciously tortured each other.  Even though they were screaming at each
other to submit they increased the force of their blows.

At one point it seemed that Randy would lose.  Bob curled the whip around
his legs and pulled hard, so Randy crashed to the floor and lost his grip
on the whip.  Bob took advantage and lashed the fallen muscle man again and
again.  But Randy could not submit and, gritting his teeth, he grabbed at
the whip and staggered to his feet.

In blind fury now, Randy knew it was time to end this.  He brought the whip
curling around Bob's huge bicep and forearm, making him drop his weapon.
The cop stood defenseless at the leather man's mercy.  Standing back Randy
raised his arm high above his shoulder and with all the intensity and power
he could summon, he curled the whip hard around the cop's naked back and
chest.  It hit the man's shoulders, chest, back and nipples and landed with
such muscle tearing force that Bob's beautiful body arched, he screamed in
agony and fell to the floor, writhing in spasms of pain.

Randy looked down at his fallen victim and lashed him again and again on
his muscular, naked torso.  Screaming, Bob rolled over and over, desperate
to avoid the brutal whip, but the agony continued.  Finally the powerful
cop could take no more and screamed,

"OK, I submit.  I submit, sir.  You've won.  Please stop.  I give up."

His chest heaving and gleaming with sweat Randy stood over the fallen
giant.  He had won.  The leather man had thrashed the cop into submission
and the once-proud bodybuilder lay in a sobbing, crumpled heap at his feet.
The lights dimmed to blackout.

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

When the light came up the two men were facing each other.  Bob was still
stripped to the waist, still in his uniform pants and boots, handcuffs
still hanging from his belt.  Randy was now wearing his leather vest over
his bare torso.  There was an air of excitement among the spectators.  They
had watched as the cop was brutally beaten, broken, and defeated.  They now
waited for the final act of submission.

For Randy it was not an issue of satisfying the onlookers.  This was now
personal.  The defeat had been much harder than he anticipated.  He was a
top man but he had been publicly thrashed, whipped to the floor, tortured
as he lay helpless and made to scream in agony as the lashes fell one after
another.  He had almost lost to the muscular cop and he wanted revenge.
His machismo demanded it. The cop's humiliation would be public and
degrading.

First, he reached down to Bob's waist, unclipped the handcuffs and cuffed
the cop's wrists behind his back.  Then he walked over to the leather
collar prominently displayed at the side of the platform and brought it to
the beaten man.

"Kneel," he ordered, and Bob dropped to his knees facing out to the
audience.  Randy came behind him and ritualistically fastened the collar
around the handsome man's thick neck, causing a gasp from the onlookers.
Randy pulled Bob's head back by the hair and looked into his face.

"You fucking piece of shit.  Thought you were a powerful cop.  Now look at
you. Who won?"

"You, sir."

"Who is your master?"

"You, sir."

"Now you have to be humiliated.  Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Randy tied a rope to the collar and pulled it up, stretching the beaten
cop's chiseled face upward.  He looked out at the audience and said,

"Gentleman, I give you a broken man."  There were cheers and whistling as
the men got off on seeing the muscular cop in total submission.  Randy
turned and stood in front of the kneeling cop at an angle so everyone had a
clear view.  He pulled out his cock and there was a long pause until a
spurt of yellow liquid splashed into the anguished face.  This was followed
by an endless stream of piss that gushed over the face, neck, chest and
shoulders of the broken man.

Several onlookers shot their load at this incredible sight, a shirtless cop
in a leather collar, kneeling in submission, being soaked in the leather
man's stinking piss.

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

Part two of the cop's degradation was now set.  Randy had tied Bob's hands
together and attached them to a rope on the chin bar above them.  Still
stripped to the waist Bob's arms were stretched upward and his legs were
spread a little way behind him.  Randy turned him sideways to give the
audience a good side view.  Then he reached around the cop's waist,
loosened the belt, unzipped the fly of the uniform pants, which slid down
just below his ass.  Bob's cock sprang free.  The spectators gasped as they
saw for the first time the perfectly rounded globes of the cop's ass and
his huge dick.  They got ready for the sight they had been waiting for.
The beaten man was to be publicly fucked.

Randy unzipped his own pants and pulled out his cock, which was already
rock hard.  He pushed the huge head against the crack between the cop's
cheeks.  This time the fucking would not be slow or gentle.  Randy needed
to punish the man who had whipped him so brutally.  He grabbed hold of
Bob's waist and with one massive lunge, drove his cock deep inside his gut.
Bob let out a scream that echoed round the room.

Then the pounding began.  There was no mercy, no letup.  The huge rod
plunged again and again deep inside the cop's ass, smashing against back of
his hole.  The pain was incredible and Bob's body heaved and arched in a
futile attempt to ease the pressure.  He was securely tied by the wrists
and at the leather man's mercy.

 He screamed as the pole was driven deep inside him.  His piss-soaked
muscles flexed and tensed, streaming with sweat and gleaming under the
lights.  The torture of his ass seemed never ending and the onlookers
stamped and cheered, elated by the sight of the beautiful cop being
brutally fucked by the leather man.

Randy knew that it had to end before Bob passed out.  Feeling the heat
rising into his groin Randy's pounding became faster and more savage until
he finally let out a scream, plunged his shaft deep inside the ass and shot
a hot stream of cum into the beaten cop.  Bob felt only the extreme pain in
his shattered ass, and he was unaware that he too shot a hot stream of
semen toward the cheering crowd.  As many of the men watching shot their
own loads they whistled and cheered as the muscular cop sagged in the
ropes, his body racked with pain and his ass fucked so brutally that if
felt on fire.

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

A short while later the final act of humiliation was in place.  When he was
cut down from the ropes Bob's huge body had crashed to the floor.  Randy
spread eagled him flat on the floor, tying his wrists and ankles to the
corners of the stage.  His pants had been pulled up and the belt
rebuckled. The massive shirtless cop lay stretched and immobile, at the
mercy of whatever final degradation he was to endure.  Randy announced it
to the eager group of men.

"Gentlemen, be my guest."

Bob looked up helplessly at the leather man towering over him.  "No," he
breathed.  "Please.  Don't let them."

But Randy wanted his full and total revenge so he let it happen. In ones,
twos or small groups, the men came forward from the shadows of the audience
and stood around the helpless, beaten cop.  Riveted by his beauty they
began to piss on the muscular bodybuilder.  Soon there were streams of hot
rancid urine pouring over his body, soaking his face and hair, and
streaming over the gleaming muscles of his chest.

Many of the men still had another orgasm in them and cum poured down on the
helpless cop to mix with the pools of urine.  Bob's body heaved and
thrashed, desperate to avoid the shower of piss and cum that poured down on
him.  As Randy and the other guys looked down on the magnificent, shirtless
cop spread eagled on the ground, soaked and sobbing, his humiliation was
complete.

It was late now and the crowd began to disperse.  They had been witness to
extraordinary sights that went beyond their wildest imagination.  Soon
there were only two men left.  A soaked and helpless cop and the huge
leather man standing in triumph over him.  Both exhausted, they gazed into
each other's eyes ... and a slight smile formed on their lips.  They knew
that their contest for supremacy would continue the next day.  It was time
for the cop's revenge.

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

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength ... Part 10"