Date: Tue, 26 Jun 2012 02:56:57 -0400 (EDT)
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: A trial Of Strength - Part 99  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 99
By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER:
   Randy faces the most harrowing challenge of his life as Bob hovers
between life and death in a deep coma.  Randy sobs, "All I want to do is
hear your voice, Bob, see those soft brown eyes.  I promise I'll make love
to you like I never have before.  Just don't leave me, buddy.  Please, man,
come back to me.  Please ..."  Randy performs two extraordinary feats in a
desperate effort to save him.  But the prognosis is grim.

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

As always, guys, I welcome your comments and suggestions.  They can be very
helpful in planning future chapters.  E-mail me 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 some
great artwork.  Click on the Our Story tab to read it chapter by chapter.
Then click on the `Support' tab, go to the `Contact Us' page and send me
your comments and story ideas.  Enjoy!

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

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH – CHAPTER 99 – "BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH"

Randy and Bob had never felt closer to each other.  After their stunning
sexual experience together in the forest their relationship was defined in
a more profound way than ever before.  They spent all their free time
together, much of it in bed, and Randy finally suggested that they go off
for a day in the mountains.

"Hey, buddy.  Next Saturday let's get away together, just you and me ... up
to Big Pines, maybe.  We'll take the Harleys for a spin.  It's about time
you got to ride the bikes more often."

Bob jumped at the idea.  "Sounds great.  I remember Big Pines ... gorgeous,
real high up, not much more than an hour away."

"Yeah, and what a drive ... empty, narrow mountain road, hair-pin bends,
sheer drops on either side that'll make your hair curl."

So Saturday came and Pablo and the twins saw them off.  Randy hugged his
boy and Bob put his arms round the twins.  "If you need anything while I'm
gone, check with Pablo.  You'll take care of them, eh, Pablo?"

"Sure thing, sir.  Have fun ... be good."  He frowned, then grinned.  "Oh,
that's not right... you can't do both at the same time, can you?"

And they sped away, roaring with laughter.

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

Half an hour later they were cruising steadily along Highway 2, a narrow
two-lane mountain road with stunning views and the hairpin bends Randy had
promised.  On the right was a steep drop way down a ravine to a stream far
below.  They were driving carefully, one behind the other, keeping well
away from the verge.

Bob had got about a hundred yards ahead of Randy and Randy was about to
catch up to him when he heard the sound of a vehicle coming up behind him.
He pulled closer to the edge to let it pass and looked back to see an old
beat-up red truck with what looked like three guys in it.

"Shit damn!"  he yelled.  "Assholes!"  As it overtook him the truck had
deliberately sideswiped him, almost knocking him off balance at the edge of
the road.  "Fucking morons," he muttered to himself as the truck swerved
drunkenly ahead.  "They'll fucking kill someone that way."

His next thought was for Bob up ahead and his eyes opened wide in horror.
The truck was approaching him from behind, still swerving crazily.  It
happened in a split second.  The truck came level with Bob, swerved to the
right and brushed hard against him, then sped away.  Less accustomed to a
motorcycle than Randy, Bob did lose his balance.  He swerved to the right,
over the grass verge ... and plunged over the edge.

"NO!" screamed Randy and gunned his bike forward, screeching to a halt
where the skid-marks led off the side of the road.  He jumped off his bike,
gazed over the edge of the ravine and saw Bob and the bike tumbling down
the side, through the brush, bouncing on the hard gravel and coming to rest
against a tree several hundred feet down.

Randy leapt over the side and, propelled by pure adrenaline, charged down
the almost sheer slope, falling, crawling, grabbing at shrubs and rocks as
the gravel tore at his clothes.  Breathlessly he finally reached the spot
and gazed down in horror at the motionless body lying in a lifeless,
crumpled heap against a tree.  Randy raised his head to the sky and
screamed with the howl of a wounded animal.  NO! ..."

He fell to his knees and cradled Bob's face in his hands.  "Come on, buddy,
open your eyes.  Please, man, open your eyes for me."

But the eyes remained closed, the face motionless, ashen, with blood
flowing from a gash on his forehead.  Apparently his helmet had flown off
during the precipitous fall.  Randy took a deep breath, knowing he had to
control his panic.  He had to think clearly.  Randy was tough, and the
crisis focused his mind with a knife-like clarity.  He touched Bob's wrist
and felt a pulse, but a very weak one.

Moving with a robotic precision he pulled out his cell phone, praying for
signal.  Even in this remote place there was one, and he dialed Mark.  The
cop was cruising near the end of his shift and answered immediately.
Briefly, efficiently, Randy described the situation and location
... "Highway 2 ... about half-way to Big Pines You'll see my bike by the
road."

"Gotcha," said Mark.  "I'm on my way and I'll call the paramedics.  Hang in
there, buddy.  Help's on its way."

After Mark clicked off Randy looked around frantically.  There was nothing
but the breeze, the sky and the almost sheer hillside above him.  Nobody
had seen the accident.  He had never felt more isolated in his life.  He
looked down at his lover lying motionless on the ground and the sight gave
him renewed strength.

"OK, buddy," Randy said softly to himself.  "Gotta get you up to the road."

He knew that Bob shouldn't really be moved, but he also knew the pulse was
so weak he couldn't risk a delay.  He leaned forward and pushed his arms
under the lifeless body, one arm under the shoulders and the other under
the knees.  He took a deep breath, flexed his whole body and, with a huge
effort, rose slowly to his feet.  God, Bob felt heavy lying limply in his
arms.  Randy looked up at the dauntingly steep hill, almost sheer, and his
courage almost collapsed.  The road was so far up he couldn't even see it.
But then he looked down at Bob's beautiful face, stained with blood, and he
knew what he had to do.  He began to climb.

Step by agonizing step he started to walk, digging his boots into the
gravel to gain a precarious foothold.  Many times his foot slipped back on
the loose shingle but he knew that above all else he must keep his balance
and not let Bob fall.  He didn't look up, but focused on the ground
immediately below him, foot after foot, yard after yard.

It was a superhuman feat of strength and endurance.  Randy's jaw clenched
in gritty determination and he willed himself to take one more step, then
another.  He couldn't think about failure.  Instead his mind focused on
Bob, the extraordinary life they had together, the events of that life, the
rough sex, the love, the spiritual bond that joined them inseparably.  It
was as if the man in his arms, lifeless as he was, was endowing him with
the strength to struggle on.

Randy had no idea how much time was passing.  His mind became numb, his
body running on the force of the adrenaline pumping through his veins.  His
muscles bulged, racked with pain, pouring with sweat.  At one point his
feet slid back down several feet and he almost gave up, but then he looked
down at Bob's face and knew that was not an option.  He was a machine now,
not thinking, barely feeling the pain, as he climbed slowly, agonizingly
slowly.

The body in his arms was no longer heavy ... it was the body of the man he
loved, and it gave him the strength and courage to continue.  But as he
willed himself forward, step after step, the effort was so grueling that
finally his strength was failing ... his breathing was ragged, he was
starting to hallucinate ... when suddenly the gravel beneath him became
grass, then hard tarmac.  The road.

With his last ounces of strength he gently lowered his buddy onto the grass
verge, then fell to his knees over him, totally spent, sobbing, his tears
falling onto the face of his lover, mingling with the blood.  He willed
himself not to pass out.  He was not even aware of the distant sounds of
sirens, growing louder, not aware of flashing lights and tires on gravel.
And when hands reached down to touch Bob he yelled, "Take your hands off
him .... He's mine!"

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and he wailed like a lost animal as he
heard a deep, familiar voice.  "It's OK, buddy.  We're here.  It's me,
Mark.  The paramedics will take care of him now."

Randy pulled himself to his feet, looked in bewilderment at the uniformed
cop, then fell sobbing, exhausted, into his arms, all the stress, the
pent-up emotional and physical agony bursting like a damn.  His voice was
jagged.  "Oh, man ... he's hurt bad ... I had to ... I couldn't ... I can't
lose him, man.  He's my life.  Did you know that?" he asked plaintively.

Mark's voice was steady as a rock.  "Take a deep breath, buddy.  You're in
shock."  He looked over the edge of the cliff and saw the remains of the
bike several hundred feet below.  "Try to tell me how you got him all the
way up here."

Randy looked at him, still dazed.  "I carried him.  I had to.  I carried
him."

Mark stared at him in disbelief.  "Jesus Christ!"

By now the paramedics had loaded Bob onto a stretcher and were pushing it
into the ambulance.  Randy looked up and reality crashed back over him.  He
ran forward and climbed into the ambulance, watching over the stretcher as
it slid in.

The paramedic looked over at Mark.  "Is he coming with us, officer?"

"Try keeping him out," Mark grinned wryly.  "Don't worry, I'll clear the
way in front of you.  Where to?"

"Closest trauma center, Glendale Memorial," the paramedic said.  "Have to
take the 2 all the way.  Traffic's a bitch on the 210.  We'll stabilize him
on the way.  Glad of your help, buddy."

The doors closed, Mark straddled his bike and pulled round in front of
them.  Then they took off, speeding along the same winding mountain road,
Mark in front with his sirens blaring and lights flashing, just like the
ambulance right behind him.

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

As the paramedics worked feverishly on Bob, taking his vitals, checking the
wounds, installing a drip, they sternly warned Randy to stay back out of
their way.  He was still in a daze, gazing helplessly at his buddy, still
not able to fully grasp what was happening.

At the hospital emergency entrance all was rapid efficiency.  The stretcher
was placed on a gurney and wheeled quickly through the swing doors.  They
rushed it along the corridor, Randy beside them, until they went through
another set of doors and the staff barred Randy from entering.  He was
about to protest and bust his way in when strong arms grabbed him from
behind and a deep, calm voice said, "No, Randy.  He's in good hands.  I'm
right here with you, buddy."

Suddenly all the fight went out of Randy and he allowed Mark to steer him
into a waiting room and pull him down on a bench.  The cop was all
business, and his calm efficiency helped Randy to regain his balance and
think clearly.  Mark asked for all the details and Randy told him the whole
story.  The paramedics took their leave of Mark, thanking him.

"If it hadn't been for this guy bringing him up to the road he'd be dead by
now," the paramedic said.  "We'd have probably needed a helicopter and that
would have taken too long."  He turned to Randy.  "Way to go, man.  That
was sensational, what you did up there.  Still don't know how you did it."

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

Time stood still as the two men sat silently together in the empty waiting
room.  Mark kept careful watch on the ashen faced construction worker
trying to come to terms with the calamity.  Mark knew the five-stages
theory of grief, knew that after his initial state of denial would come
anger.  And Randy's anger was legendary.  So Mark talked to him quietly,
calmly, hoping that his voice would soothe him, even though Randy was not
hearing the words.

Fortunately the handsome, uniformed cop was a familiar sight around the
hospital, which was on his regular beat, and the medical staff liked and
respected him.  After what seemed like an eternity a doctor appeared in the
room.  "Hi, Mark ... you the officer that brought him in?"  Mark nodded.
The doctor turned to Randy.  "And you, sir.  Is the patient your relative?"

Randy looked up suddenly and said, "He's my life."  Mark nodded to the
doctor to reassure him.

"OK.  We've run extensive tests and I've seen the CAT Scan and MRI.  The
good news is that physically he's not in bad shape ... a few broken ribs,
dislocated shoulder, torn ligaments, bruises, scratches ... nothing we
can't fix.  But here the news gets worse, I'm afraid.  The patient has
received a traumatic blow to the head ... apparently his helmet came off
during the fall and his head took the full force of the blow against the
tree.

"The concussion was severe and he is currently in a deep coma.  To put it
in layman's terms, the profound shock caused his mind to shut down.  In
cases like this it's hard to know when, or even if, he will come out of the
coma.  In the meantime there is nothing we can do except administer
intravenous medication, monitor him closely and hope for the best.  So
we've moved him from Intensive Care into a room, and you can visit him
there in a few minutes."

Randy looked at him without expression.  "Tell me the truth, doc.  What are
his chances?"

"There appears to be no lasting brain damage, but the coma is very deep.
At this stage it's hard to predict, but if you want me to guess I'd say
that his chances of regaining consciousness are ... less than 50-50.  Of
course there are many variables, so ..."

Randy cut him off.  "A number, doc.  Give me a number."

The doctor sighed.  "Well, since you insist ... I'd say his chances are 30,
40 percent, no better than that.  As time goes on the chances decrease, I'm
afraid."

Randy felt his legs buckle and was grateful for Mark's strong arm around
him.

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

In the room Randy and Mark watched as two nurses and the doctor hooked Bob
up to the various monitoring devices and his intravenous drip.  Randy
stared down at his lover and suddenly felt a charge run through his body
... a surge of determination and a resolve that he would not let Bob die.

The nurse was saying, "You shouldn't stay too long, gentlemen."

Without shifting his gaze from Bob's face Randy growled, "I'm not leaving."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not leaving him.  I'm staying right here."

Mark had heard that tone of voice before.  He took the doctor to one side
and spoke softly but authoritatively.  "Look, doctor, dynamite wouldn't get
him out of this room ..."  He argued persuasively and after a while the
doctor turned to Randy.  "It's highly irregular, sir, but I've agreed to
let you stay, on the understanding that you in no way impede the medical
staff who will be coming and going frequently."

A nurse added.  "I'll have a cot bought in for you."

Randy's voice was flat.  "I don't want a cot.  I'll sit by him until he
wakes.  I won't interfere with you, but I won't leave him."  Then he looked
plaintively at the doctor.  "Is there anything I can do, doc?"

"Well," said the doctor shaking his head, "there is a school of thought
that, even in a coma, patients can still hear, even though they don't
react.  It can't hurt if you talk to him."

"Then that's what I'll do.  I'll talk.  You can leave me with him, Mark.
We started out alone together, and that's how we do best ... just the two
of us.  Together we're strong.  We can do anything."

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

Mark squeezed his shoulder and left the room with tears in his eyes.  He
took a deep breath and sprang into action.  First he called Zack, explained
the situation and asked him to come over.  "Better not tell the boys just
yet.  Let's you and me discuss it first, OK?"

They met in the waiting room and Mark brought him up to date.  "Thing is,
Randy wants to be left alone with him, so we can drop in for a minute, but
he probably won't react much.  He has eyes only for Bob.  Says he's gonna
talk to him."

They did go into the room but, as Mark predicted, Randy glanced at them,
said, "Thanks guys" and looked back at Bob.  The men walked silently out of
the room and left Randy alone gazing down at the man he worshipped.

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

Randy took a deep breath.  "OK, buddy, this is me, Randy.  So, you've had a
bit of a fall, but you're gonna pull through and come back to me, is that
clear?  That's an order.  You know you always have to obey me, always have,
and now's no different.  Hell, man, come on, open your fucking eyes,
otherwise I'll fucking well..."

His voice trailed off and he stood up and paced the room.  `Or I'll fucking
well what?' he thought.  Hell this was hard.  He had always had Bob with
him, to advise him, restrain him, and now it was all up to him, Randy.  He
had never felt so alone.  And yet he wasn't alone.  He sat down again and
took Bob's hand.

"How do you like that, buddy?  Me charging at you like a mad bull.  In the
past if you were this obstinate I'd have tied you to a tree and whipped the
shit out of you.  Yeah, you'd have liked that too, wouldn't you?"  He
faltered.  "Oh, man ... I don't know what to do ... you gotta help me.
Being rough is the only way I know, and now that won't cut it But it's all
I know, kid ..."  he broke down and started to sob.

But immediately he collected himself, cleared his throat and began again.
"I guess toughness is not just being quick with your fists, eh?  Gotta be
tough now, though... for both of us, so we can be together like we were
before.  Hey, remember when we first met ... that scruffy old motel room
where I beat the shit out of you?  I was real rough on you, but you know
what?  When you first walked into that crummy bar and our eyes met, I think
that's the moment I fell in love with you ... right from the start.  And I
am in love with you man, you know that.  And that's why you can't leave me
... I can't live without you, man ...I won't make it on my own ..."

Again his voice died, but he felt energy surge through him again and he
gripped Bob's hand tighter.  "Feel me, buddy?  Feel my hand in yours?  God,
the number of times I've felt your body, your flesh next to mine.  You know
touching you always gives me a hard-on.  Sure you know that and you know
where that hard-on always ends up ... in your ass.  Jesus I love your ass."

He gazed at the sleeping face.  "And that face!  That gorgeous fucking
face.  Even covered in scratches and bruises" ... he chuckled ...
"especially covered in scratches and bruises.  Looks like I worked you over
real good."  Suddenly he took a deep breath.  "Did I hurt you, buddy?  God,
I did didn't I ... so many times That anger of mine.  Oh, man, I'm sorry.
I promise I'll never hurt you again, I'll do whatever in the world you want
me to.  That's the bargain ... you come back to me and you can do whatever
you want, beat me, whip me, punish me for the past... anything."

His eyes streamed with tears again.  "All I want to do is hear your voice,
Bob, see those soft brown eyes.  All I want to do is love you, buddy, to
hold you again.  I promise I'll make love to you like I never have before.
Just don't leave me, buddy.  Please, man, come back to me.  Please ..."

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

A dark, gloomy cloud settled over the house, over the family meeting, as
Mark and Zack sat on a bench and addressed the boys.  Pablo, Darius, Jamie
and the twins sat crossed legged on the grass looking up at the men,
listening.  Mark pulled no punches as he explained the situation.  "You
guys are our boys.  We've taught you to be tough and you have to be
especially brave now.  Randy's gonna need us more than he ever has."

The stunned silence was broken surprisingly by the twins.  "Excuse me,
sir," Kyle said, "but that's not quite accurate."  "No," said Kevin.  "Not
just Randy.  Bob's gonna need us too ... when he wakes up."

Mark was stunned by their reaction and Zack took over.  "You're absolutely
right, guys.  And in the meantime the best thing we can do is what Bob
would want us to do ... work harder than ever to keep the house and the
construction company in good shape.  Darius, you and I are gonna have to
cover all three sites so we'll go take a look this afternoon.  It's
Saturday so the crew won't be there but we'll work out a plan for next
week, OK?"

"Right, sir," said Darius.

"And Jamie," Mark said.  "The business office will be just you for a while,
so you're gonna have to make more major decisions while Bob's away.  Think
you can handle it?"

"Absolutely, sir.  He won't know he's been away."

Pablo spoke up.  "Sir, the last thing Bob said before they left was that I
should take care of the twins.  And I will ... right guys?"

"OK, Mark said.  "Which brings us to right now.  Randy's gonna need a
change of clothes, which you can get from his room, Pablo.  And the twins
can cook something good for him to eat at the hospital.  I'm sure he hasn't
touched a thing so far."

The boys sprang into action and drowned their fear and sorrow in action.
It was only an hour later that Mark brought Pablo and the twins up to the
door of Bob's room.  "Now careful," he said.  "Only a few minutes."

The boys went in tentatively and Randy, who had apparently been talking,
broke off and stood up.  Pablo cleared his throat and said, "Excuse me,
sir.  I brought these clothes for you."  He looked at Randy's jeans and
T-shirt, torn and covered with dirt.  Pablo grinned, "You look hot, sir,
but maybe you should change."  Randy smiled for the first time in a long
while.

The twins stepped forward and offered the casserole they had prepared.
"You should eat this, sir," said Kyle, "one of our best."

Kevin held out a small bunch of flowers.  "We brought these, sir.
Freesias.  They smell real sweet and we thought when Bob smells them that
will make him wake up sooner."

Randy was moved and stammered, "Yeah well ... you know the doc said..."

"Oh we know all about that, sir, but he is gonna wake up."

"You sound real sure, kid."

"We are sir," said Kevin.  "See, Bob promised he would never leave us, and
he never tells a lie."

Randy took a sharp intake of breath, turned to hug Pablo and buried his
head in his shoulder to hide his tears.  He pulled himself together and put
his hands on the twins' shoulders.  "Thanks, guys.  This all means a lot to
us both.  I'll have the nurse put the flowers by his bed.  And I promise,
I'll take good care of him for you.  But now we've got to be alone again,
just the two of us."

The boys cast a quick glance at Bob, then turned to leave.  Pablo had the
last word, along with his crooked grin.  "By the way, sir, don't throw that
old ripped T-shirt away.  Looks so hot maybe you can wear it when we ..."

Randy grinned, "Get out of here, kid."

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

They were alone again.  "So what do you make of that?" Randy asked Bob.
"Those twins of yours are something else.  Seems like they're the only ones
not upset, they're so sure that you ...  Oh, shit man, look at this bunch
of flowers.  Here ..."  He held them under Bob's nose.  "I wish you could
breathe deeper, man.  Twins think they'll wake you up."

"Listen, man, those kids need you, you're their world.  You can't leave
them, you heard what they said.  I need you too ... we all do.  The house
would fall apart without you.  Come on, asshole.  Wake up and smell the
damn flowers."

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

And so Mark, Zack and the boys threw themselves into work to take their
minds off the hospital room.  And it worked, until the evening came and,
during a gloomy dinner, the truth really started to sink in.  Mark and Zack
were stoic, more macho than ever, determined to maintain a bold face for
the boys.  "OK," Zack said, standing up from the dinner table.  "I'm going
across to my house to go over some blueprints.  Help the twins clear up,
Darius, then come and join me."

Half an hour later Darius ran across the street and was about to open the
door to Zack's room when he stopped in his tracks, stunned by what he
heard.  Sobbing.  Zack had evidently let the tension of the day overwhelm
him and he had given way to grief.  Darius paused, waited a while then
coughed loudly.  He paused again, then went into the room.

Zack was wiping his face and Darius went straight up to him and hugged him
tight.  "I love the guy," Zack said.  "I fucking love the guy to pieces."

"Me too, sir," said Darius.  "Hell, he understood ... understands ... me so
well.  He's given me some great fantasies in the past.  I just hope ..."
But he couldn't complete his sentence.

"OK," said Zack, taking command again.  "What are the sleeping arrangements
for tonight?"

"Oh, we boys have worked all that out.  Jamie's with Mark, of course.  The
twins want Pablo to sleep with them in Bob and Randy's bed.  So I'll be
alone in my bed, unless you want to share it, sir."

"Try keeping me away," Zack grinned.

That night all the men found solace in each other, in making love.  Mark
held Jamie tenderly like a precious piece of fragile china, cradling him
with a renewed sense of how precious he was to him, how hard it would be to
lose him.  Zack and Darius were more vigorous, with Zack fucking his boy
hard as if that were a way to bind them more safely together.

And Pablo took comfort in the twins as they wound their arms around him in
sleep.  It was not only their soft loving that reassured him.  It was their
absolutely certainty that everything would come right and that Bob would
come back to them.

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

But that was looking less and less likely.  It was now Sunday night and Bob
had been in a coma for two days and a night.  Randy hadn't slept ... he was
afraid that if he stopped looking at Bob, stopped talking to him, he would
slip away.  So he talked endlessly about the past and about all of the
plans they would make for the future.  His focus was so intense he was
barely aware of the medical staff coming and going, or of the persistent
bleep of the monitors.

On his final rounds of the day the doctor looked in, examined the chart and
the monitors.  Randy searched his face for the verdict.

The doctor shook his head.  "Not looking good, I'm afraid, Randy.  I know
it's true that people can come out of comas after a long time, but in Bob's
case his brain patterns show him sinking even deeper.  And there's nothing
more we can do.  I wish we could do CPR for the brain as we do for the
heart ... give it a shock, some sharp stimulus that would reverse the
decline.  But we can't.  But keep talking to him.  That's all you can do.
I'm sorry."

As the doctor left Randy felt a sickening jolt of panic grip him.  He was
losing the fight ... losing Bob.  NO!  He'd be damned if that was gonna
happen.  His brain cleared.  CPR for the brain ... a shock, a jolt, some
stimulus that would bring him back.  He looked at Bob.

"OK, asshole.  Now what part of you always reacts first when you see me,
when you just hear my voice?  You know damn well what it is.  It's right
here."  He put his hands under the sheets and moved down to Bob's groin.
Gently he folded it round Bob's limp cock, squeezing slightly, then
releasing.

"Feel that, buddy?  Feel my hand round your cock?  Now how about this?"
Even more gently he slid his other hand underneath the body and cupped the
cheek of his ass.  "God, that ass.  I have loved that ever since I first
ripped your shorts off and laid eyes on it.  Now how about this?"  Tenderly
he touched the warm hole with the tips of his fingers."

His voice grew rougher.  "Now, you fucker, you're starting to make me mad.
You remember that day when I first took you to the lake?  You pissed me off
and I tied you to the tree.  I was so fucking mad I reamed your ass.  Then
I went for a swim, came up behind you and fucked you again, remember that?
I kept you tied up and kept coming back and fucking you, again, and again,
all day.  You screamed as you felt my cock ram into you, ripping you open.
You were helpless, at my mercy, as my huge dick hammered your ass."

He rubbed his fingers against the crack in Bob's ass.  "Remember how it
felt, you son-of-a-bitch?  You were hanging from the ropes and I reached
round and your cock was rock hard, just waiting for me to give you
permission to shoot your load."

"But I didn't let you cum.  Instead I squeezed your dick as I pounded your
ass.  It was like a fucking piston inside you.  Then I started to stroke
your dick, like this" ... slowly, gently, he began stroking Bob's limp cock
... "and I felt the blood pulsing through it, felt it getting harder in my
fist.  Remember that, you fucker, remember how my hand felt round your
dick, remember how hard you got?  Feel it, man!"

Randy was running out of images when suddenly ... maybe he imagined it
... no, there it was ...  a slight stirring under the membrane in his hand.
"That's it, you fucker.  Feel your master's fist round your cock, feel his
cock in your ass.  Come on, man.  Let's see what you got.  Get it hard for
your master while he pounds that sweet ass of yours."  He stroked Bob's ass
gently with one hand and his cock with the other.

"Feel the pain in your ass, man.  The only way I'll cum inside you is if
you get your dick hard.  Come on, man.  Imagine that hot construction
worker fucking you, sweat pouring down his dark face onto his stubbled
chin.  Think of that gorgeous body pounding into you.  Now see those eyes,
those piercing blue eyes staring at you.  You know that always makes you
hard."

And it did.

Randy now felt beyond doubt the blood running through the veins under the
skin of Bob's cock.  And it was no longer limp.  It was now semi-erect,
growing slowly.  Randy stopped talking but continued working with his hands
until the cock was hard.  Bob was breathing more heavily now so Randy
stopped.  "What ... you think I was gonna let you cum, asshole?  You don't
shoot your load unless I say you can.  You know me better than that."

A trace of a smile crossed Bob's lips and Randy's eyes filled with tears.

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

Randy pulled his hands away, took hold of Bob's hand ... and felt a slight
squeeze.  He ran to the door and yelled for the doctor.  A few minutes
later the medical staff were in the room checking the monitors, and the
doctor turned to Randy.  "Hard to believe, but I think we're out of the
woods.  I never would have predicted that ... and so suddenly.  His
consciousness is racing back to the surface.  What in hell have you been
saying to him?"

Randy grinned, "That's between him and me, doc."

It was pretty much plain sailing from there.  It was a matter of an hour or
so, then Bob at long last opened his eyes slowly.  His vision was blurred
at first but then he saw coming into focus the swarthy face of the man who
had called him back.  "Hi, buddy," Randy said softly.  "Thanks for coming."
He grinned.  "And I don't mean that in the way you think.  That's for
later."

Bob closed his eyes again, sighed deeply and spoke for the first time.
"Had to come back.  You're a hard man to refuse."  He took another deep
breath.  "What's that great smell?"

"The twins brought flowers for you."

Bob frowned ... then, his eyes still closed, a smile crossed his face.  "Ah
yes ... the twins.  Thanks for calling me back, buddy.  I heard your
voice."

"Yeah, and it made your dick hard."

Bob's smile increased.  "You know me too well."  And he dirfted into a
restful sleep, real this time, sure to wake up.

In an hour Zack and Mark were at the hospital, beaming at Randy.  The
doctor was in the room checking the monitors for the umpteenth time.  He
shook his head.  "Nothing short of a miracle," he said, "and we don't use
that word much around here.  I'd love to know what you got up to in here,
Randy."

Randy grinned.  "Let's just say it's probably not in your medical
textbooks, doc."

"By the way," the doctor said, "the paramedics told me you saved your
buddy's life by carrying him up an impossibly steep hill.  Well, I've gotta
tell you something else... you climbed another impossible hill in here, and
brought Bob along with you ... back to life.  It's an honor to shake your
hand, Randy.  You're a hell of a guy."

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

It was only a week later that the hospital released Bob.  His physical
wounds had been patched up ... his ribs were sore but healing, his arm was
in a sling and his leg in a light cast.  Randy had not left him the whole
time, agreeing to a cot being brought in so he could sleep beside him.
They had talked a lot, about the future mostly, but also spent much of the
time just ... gazing at each other.

The staff had checked with Mark that the early release was OK.  "Are you
sure he has someone who will take care of him at home?

"Try eight someones," Mark smiled.

It was a Sunday when the boys were all gathered in the garden, their eyes
fixed expectantly on the gate.  They heard a truck pull up.  There was a
long wait, the gate opened, and a rousing cheer greeted the sight or Randy
pushing a wheelchair with a broadly smiling Bob.  There were smiles all
round, and many tears.  Darius, of course, filmed the whole scene and, as
he said later to Pablo, "Awesome, dude ... not a dry eye in the house."

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

Randy took another week off work so he could be with Bob continuously.  It
was as if he was afraid to lose him if he was out of his sight.  They both
knew what had happened.  Bob knew by now of his heroic climb up the hill,
and he had rather scrambled memories of Randy's voice, his threats and
promises that had brought him back to life out of his coma.

The twins were more attentive than ever, although they had never had the
slightest doubt that Bob would return.  After all, he had promised them,
and he always kept his word.  Jamie proudly showed Bob how he had held the
fort in the office, and Mark and Zack made sure that there was not a cloud
on the horizon to disturb the couple's perfect tranquility.

And so, eventually, the rhythm of the house resumed.  Bob got stronger and
talked about going back to work.  Randy too knew he had to resume control
of the construction work and felt confident in being separated from Bob for
a few hours.

The following Sunday morning Bob was in the bedroom with Randy and Mark
while the twins prepared breakfast.  "You guys," Randy said.  "I'm gonna
skip breakfast.  There's a piece of business I've gotta take care of
... just a short trip."  He pulled on a tank top, jeans and boots and said,
"I'll be back this afternoon.  Take care of my man, Mark."  He hugged Bob
and left the room.

Outside he jumped onto the remaining Harley and roared away, his jaw set in
a look of grim determination.  "OK," he thought to himself.  "Big Pines it
is.  And this time it's me you're dealing with, you mother-fucking pieces
of shit.  And it ain't gonna be pretty."

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

Back in the bedroom, Bob and Mark's conversation was interrupted by the
twins bringing in breakfast trays.  "The other guys are not up yet, sirs,
so we thought you might like breakfast in here."

"Sure thing, kids," said Bob.  "Bring up some for yourself and join us."

As soon as the twins left, Bob's cell phone rang.  He smiled and flipped it
open.  "OK, handsome, what did you forget this time?"

There was a silence at the other end, then a throat cleared and a hesitant
voice said, "Oh ... hi, Bob ... this is Hassan."

Bob took a sharp intake of breath, paused, then held out the phone to Mark.
"Here, buddy ... it's for you."

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

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength ... Part 100"