Date: Sun, 30 Dec 2012 03:33:54 -0500 (EST)
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 136  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 136
By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER:
   Alone on the beach Mark and Hassan re-live their harrowing time as enemy
soldiers.  Defeated by Mark, Hassan yells, "You've beaten him, man ... come
on soldier, finish him off."  But then Hassan subdues Mark, whose naked
body is helplessly bound, facing his captor.  Later, Jamie misbehaves and
is punished.  "Mark towered over the muscular young surfer who was tied to
his own surfboard, struggling, awaiting his fate."

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

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - CHAPTER 136 – "Love's a Bitch"

Zack put it best: "Well, I guess that's the end of this little Steve and
Lloyd episode.  Can't say I'm sorry, either."  With Randy taking the lead,
as usual, the matter had been well and truly put to rest and they could all
move on.  But the rhythm of the house had been knocked off balance and
there was a general feeling all round that it would be good to get out of
town for a few days rest and recuperation.

As it happened, a long weekend was coming up and Randy said all the
construction sites would close for four days.  So Bob and Randy decided to
take Pablo and the twins up to their secret spot by the lake in the Angeles
National forest.  Zack and Darius were staying behind, looking forward to
spending the four days together, just the two of them in the house where
they could indulge to the full their sexual appetites and Darius's
limitless fantasies.  Mark, Jamie, Nate and Hassan were to spend the long
weekend at the beach shack in the Guadalupe Dunes.

Randy's truck left first, loaded with two men, three boys and Pablo's dog
... "a truckload of trouble" Zack had laughingly called it.  Jamie and Nate
finished loading Mark's truck, most noticeably with their two big
surfboards propped forward against the cab.  Finally they too pulled away,
leaving Zack and Darius to walk happily back through the gate into the
serenity of a waiting house.

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

Mark drove the two boys up to Mulholland where Hassan was waiting for them,
looking real hot in a faded gray tank-top and old, shabby military fatigue
pants.  With a huge smile he leapt into the seat beside Mark and leaned
behind him to ruffle the hair of Jamie and Nate in the back seat.  He
turned to face forward again and threw his arm across Mark's shoulders.
Jamie and Nate grinned at each other, then looked down at the bulges that
they both had growing in their shorts and burst out laughing.

"You gonna share the joke with us, guys?" Mark said.

"Oh, it's nothing, sir," Jamie said.  "Just something that came up all of a
sudden," and they smothered more laughs.

"So," Hassan said to the boys, "Mark tells me you guys have brought a tent
because you two want to sleep in the dunes, leaving the shack to Mark and
me ... that right?"

"Well," Mark cut in, "the sleeping arrangements are pretty flexible.  In
fact everything's pretty flexible.  We'll just play it by ear ... see what
develops, eh Jamie?"

"Right, sir!"  Jamie reached over and grabbed Nate's rigid cock bulging in
his shorts.  "There's no knowing what'll come up."  And once again the boys
collapsed with laughter.

Their giddy mood continued as the truck sped up the Pacific Coast Highway,
but the banter eventually died down and in the ensuing comfortable silence
the men were left to their own private thoughts.

Mark had been troubled seeing his friend Hassan get involved in the Lloyd
mess, so he was relieved now and excited at the thought of spending time
with the soldier who shared a long history with him.  After the
excruciating wartime torture and interrogation of long ago, they had come
to love and respect each other deeply.  They were both flawlessly beautiful
men and as Mark felt Hassan's arm resting on his shoulder he was warmed by
the familiar lust that made his cock stiff just being next to him.  Each
man, out of the corner of his eye, saw the satisfied smile on the other's
face.

Hassan had recently moved up to Los Angeles and was happy to be living a
very private life in his small guesthouse tucked away in the Hollywood
Hills.  His exotic beauty set him apart from other men, but he felt a
kindred spirit with the magnificent cop who matched him in beauty and
charisma, the man who sat shoulder to shoulder with him now.  Hassan had
also come to love and lust for Mark's boy Jamie ... with Mark's genial
approval.

Jamie himself was still fantasizing about his recent visit to Hassan's
house where he had watched the near-naked soldier working out, a sight so
pornographically beautiful that the boy had creamed his shorts.  Hassan had
longed to fuck Jamie as he had in the past, but restrained himself until he
got Mark's permission.  Jamie had understood, saying, "But we have four
days coming up in the dunes ... and Mark will be with us.  So maybe then
...?"  Jamie was beginning to match even Darius as fantasies swirled
through his mind.

As for Nate, he still couldn't believe his luck being in the company of
these glorious men.  Having left a solitary life in Australia he was now
thrilled to be, as he put it, "Jamie's best mate" and was looked on with
affection by all the other guys in the house, especially by Mark who had
long wanted Jamie to have a close friend his own age.  Nate didn't know
Hassan well yet, but he was in awe of the spectacular Marine and even dared
to hope that this trip he would get to know him better.  He turned to Jamie
and they smiled that conspiratorial smile of "best mates."

So those were the reflections and daydreams that happily occupied the minds
of all four occupants of the truck as it barreled north on the freeway to
the secluded spot in the dunes that had already been the scene of so many
erotic adventures.  It had been on just such a trip as this that Mark had
saved Jamie's life using the kiss of life, where they had fallen in love
and where Jamie had become Mark's boy.  Maybe, Mark thought to himself, the
place would work its magic once again.

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

"Well, it sure ain't Manly Beach," said a crestfallen Jamie, referring to
the Sydney beach where he and Nate had found such `epic' waves for surfing.
They had just arrived at the dunes and he and Nate were looking out at the
placid waves rolling gently ashore on the long, deserted beach.

"Oh, I dunno, mate," Nate said, "you can get a pretty fair ride on waves
like that."

"OK, let's go," said Jamie, always the leader of the two.

"Not so fast, guys," said Mark.  "First we gotta get all the gear from the
truck and stow it in the shack.  You can pitch your tent later.  In a
flurry of activity the boys hauled everything off the truck and threw it
haphazardly into the shack.  Nate looked shyly at Mark and said, "I'll tidy
everything up when we come back, sir, if that's OK."

Mark melted, seeing Nate's wide-eyed eager face.  "I guess there'll be no
living with you two until you've surfed yourselves crazy.  OK, but be
careful.  Don't go out too far and whatever you do, stay together."  The
boys grabbed their boards and were soon paddling out into the surf, with
Jamie in the lead.

Hassan grinned.  "He's your boy alright, always taking the lead.  Looks
like Nate would follow him anywhere."

"Yeah," Mark said.  "Jamie's the leader, that's for sure, and Nate worships
him.  "Worries me a bit sometimes, though.  Jamie loves Nate and is not
above showing off to him, proving what an impulsive young stud he can be.
Still, if I'm honest, I guess that's one of the things that turns me on
about him.  But enough about the boys ... what about us?  Feel like a run?
Zack asked me to check on his shack while we were here ... air it out for
him.  It's a couple of miles down the beach.  You game?"

Hassan laughed.  "You're just like your boy ... always the leader ... and
with a buddy who worships you.  Yeah, sure.  Running along the beach
shoulder to shoulder with you will be a privilege ... not to mention a
massive turn-on.  Let's go, stud."

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

The seemingly endless beach was completely deserted into the far distance
where it faded into a mist of spray.  Pity there was no one to see it,
because any stray observer would have been treated to a spectacular sight
... two magnificent men in swim trunks running through the shallow surf,
their powerful legs pounding the sand step for step.  They were contrasting
studies in male beauty ... the one a blond Greek god, the other a darkly
exotic Arabic/Asian.  But they matched each other in height, their
square-cut sculpted features, and the perfect musculature of their stunning
physiques, gleaming to spray-splashed perfection in the hot sun.

Both men were aware of their beauty and they could be vain when they needed
to impress.  This was one of those times, acutely aware as each one was of
the desire he roused in the man next to him, matching his powerful
strides... with a feeling of sexual challenge in the air.  Occasionally
they glanced at each other and smiled, but they remained silent, glorying
in their muscular strength, their shared masculinity, and the mounting lust
that could not be ignored much longer.

Their bodies were perfectly in sync ... and so were their minds.  They had
both drifted back in time, remembering their first meeting years ago in a
desert prison where, as enemy soldiers, they had bound and tortured each
other in turn ... leading to mutual lust and passion.  Instinctively they
slowed down to a walk and continued in pensive silence for a while, the
waves washing over their feet.  Then, reading Mark's thoughts, Hassan said
quietly, "Do you remember it?"

"All of it," Mark murmured.  "Every last detail."  He recalled vividly how
Hassan had subjected him to military interrogation.  "As if it were
yesterday I can see myself chained to the bars of that cell as you tortured
my body.  I remember looking at you and, even as I struggled to get free, I
felt my cock get hard.  Man, you were so beautiful I couldn't help it
... and then you forced my endless orgasm, blasting streams of cum across
the cell as you punished my body and rammed your dick in my ass.  Yeah, I
still beat off thinking about it."

"But you won, Mark.  You beat me in the end.  Even after suffering all that
you turned the tables, chained me and tortured me.  And do you remember how
you finished it? ... pinning me to the floor of the cell on my back,
fucking my ass like a jackhammer and, at the moment we both busted our
loads, squeezing your hands round my throat until I passed out.  And that
is the very moment, to this day, when I cum as I masturbate thinking about
it."

There was silence again and the men were acutely aware of their rigid cocks
in their shorts as they splashed through the shallow water.  Mark suddenly
jerked up his head and said, "But hey buddy, that was yesterday, this is
today.  The sun is shining and we are alone on this endless beach, two
gorgeous men breathing the same air, lusting for each other.  And the surf
awaits!"

Quickly he dropped his shorts, ran a few steps into the water and dived
under a breaking wave.  Hassan was quick to follow and soon the two naked
men were swimming side by side with long powerful strokes.  Their shoulders
touched and Mark Laughed, "Hey, man, you trying to muscle me out of your
way?  Fat chance, pal!"

He threw himself onto Hassan and immediately they were wrestling in the
waves.  Equally matched, their gleaming bodies struggled for supremacy.  In
a bear hug they sank beneath the surface and their mouths came together in
a ravenous, endless underwater embrace.  At last they broke the surface,
gasping for air, but still holding each other at arm's length.  Through the
spray they gazed at each other with a mounting desire intensified by their
physical contest, muscle grinding against muscle.

To break the stalemate Hassan raised his knee, pressed his foot against
Mark's chest and pushed, sending Mark flying backwards into the water.
"Come get me, man," he yelled as he struck out toward the shore.  Mark
recovered his balance and it was a race to the beach.  Hassan was first to
touch bottom and he broke into a run, knee deep in water.  But Mark was
right behind and launched himself forward, bringing Hassan down with a
flying football tackle.

They rolled over and over in the shallow water, waves breaking over them.
And then suddenly the contest was over.  Mark was on top of Hassan, pinning
his hands to the sand above his head.  Gasping for air they gazed at each
other wild-eyed, both of them knowing what was happening.  "Is this what
you meant, Hassan?  Is this the way you remember it?  Is this the way I
finished you off in that cell?  Like this...?"

He threw Hassan's legs over his shoulders and with one quick, ferocious
moved plunged his cock deep inside the Marine's ass.  The soldier screamed
in pain and ecstasy as he looked up at the glorious blond muscle-god,
fucking him as he had so long ago on the floor of the prison cell.  The
memory flooded back.  It had been just like this, except that now he was
lying on wet sand, shallow waves breaking over them as Mark impaled his ass
on his iron-hard piston.

Hassan went wild and he became once more the beaten soldier.  "Come on,
man, fuck that ass, man.  You've beaten him ... you are the best ... come
on soldier, finish him off."  In a pitch of excitement Mark felt his cock
ready to explode in the hot ass.  He was back in that dank room, looking
down at the beautiful man who had chained and tortured him.  He was fucking
his way to freedom ... just one more thing to do ...

Hassan begged, "Do it, man.  Do it, please.  Finish me off, Mark.  You know
how ..."

Mark pulled his hands away from Hassan's wrists and pressed them instead
round his throat. That is how he had overpowered Hassan all those years ago
and broken free.  His military training had taught him how to cut off a
man's oxygen and make him momentarily lose consciousness, immobilizing him
for enough seconds to overcome him.  And now once again Mark pressed hard
on the pressure points as the men locked eyes.

Instinctively Hassan gripped Mark's wrists and pulled at them frantically
in a desperate bid to escape, just as he had years ago in that climactic
scene.  He looked up wildly at the glorious Nordic face, the face of his
conqueror, the face of the man he loved.  His cock was pulsing and as the
vision of the face grew blurred he knew this was the end.  He felt Mark
pounding his ass, felt his hands tighten round his throat, and he screamed,
"I love you, man," as his cock exploded in a blast of hot semen ... and
everything went dark.

As the soldier's hands fell away limply from his opponent's wrists Mark
gazed in awe at the dark, rugged face slumped to one side, and his own cock
erupted inside the broken man's ass.  It was a spectacular orgasm, a
tribute to the harrowing memory of that long-ago time when he had finally
vanquished his torturer in a tumultuous act of sexual supremacy.

Suddenly a wave splashed over them and jerked Mark back into the present.
He saw his friend lying still and he gently pulled him to shallower water,
knelt beside him and cradled his head in his arm.  Hassan became aware of a
deep voice calling his name.  He opened his eyes, his blurred vision
cleared and he found himself gazing up at the same beautiful face that had
made him shoot his load just as he passed out.

Mark's anxious voice said, "You OK, man?  You feeling OK?"

Hassan smiled.  "Never better, Mark.  Jesus, you were sensational ... just
as you were that first night.  That was the moment I always remember, the
moment that has given me many orgasms since ... and that was the moment all
that time ago when I fell in love with you Mark.  And of course ...I still
am."

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

For a long time they sat on the beach, shoulder to shoulder, staring
silently out to sea, knowing that many miles away over the distant horizon
was the place in the desert where they had experienced their first tortured
sexual encounter, part of which they had just re-enacted.

After a while they turned to smile at each other and Mark said, "Life goes
on, buddy.  Memories remain ... but life goes on.  Come on, let's go check
out Zack's shack ... make sure it hasn't been washed away."

It hadn't.  There it stood in the dunes, smaller than Mark's, waiting in
silent obedience for someone to bring it to life.  As they pushed the door
open Mark said, "Man, this has been the scene of some spectacular action.
You know, this is where Bob met Zack and, boy, did that set the fur flying
when he told Randy."  He looked around at the rumpled bed with clothes
strewn around, just as Zack had left it when he was last here.  "Shit, the
place just oozes Zack's sexuality."

"Yeah," Hassan said, "I know all about that.  See that old door-frame
standing up in the sand out there?  I told you about the time I came across
Zack tied to it being whipped by a couple of thugs.  I got rid of them real
fast, but the black stud looked so incredibly hot in bondage that I had to
whip him.  But you know what?  As I gazed at Zack my mind went back to your
wartime capture, and the man I saw hanging before me, in chains, was you
Mark, a Greek god writhing in pain as I whipped you."

"Is this what you used on Zack?"

Hassan whirled round to see Mark holding Zack's black leather whip he had
picked up from the floor.  "I will never forget that time in the desert,"
Mark said quietly.  "Watching you, that stunning face, that body flexing as
it wielded the whip.  You were so beautiful, man, that the pain vanished,
became so erotic that I blasted a load of cum across the room.  Like I
said, I still jack off thinking about that."

There was a heavy silence as they gazed at each other.  Without a word Mark
held out his hand and offered the whip to Hassan.  It was his turn to
re-live past memories.  Silently they walked out of the shack and dropped
their shorts, two naked men.  The ropes were still there lying in the sand
and Mark allowed himself to be tied to the doorframe, wrists tied high up
at the corners, his magnificent body spread-eagled, waiting.

"Oh, man," Hassan breathed.  "You look even more spectacular than you did
then.  Here it comes, Mark.  Remember!"  He raised his arm and brought the
whip down across the slabs of the captive's chest.  He smiled as he watched
the body jerk backward, muscles flexing as the arms pulled helplessly
against the ropes.  He looked with satisfaction at the bound man's rock
hard cock bouncing to attention, and felt his own cock pulse at the
extraordinary sight of the tortured solider, just as he had been that
night.

It was merely a symbolic flogging, not hard enough to cause real pain but
enough to release memories.  Hassan just wanted to see the whip falling
across the muscle-god's chest as it had that first time.  The sound of the
whip, the writhing body, and the intense gaze as they held each other's
eyes, all launched them back in time.  It was one soldier torturing
another, and Hassan used the same words as he had then.  "You are a
beautiful man, soldier.  I love torturing your body, watching it writhe,
seeing your handsome face wince with pain.  I too am a beautiful man, I
know that, and I can make you do whatever I command."

He looked down and aimed the whip at Mark's long hard rod, wrapping the
leather thongs round it.  Mark gasped and knew that would finish him.
Hassan's gaze was penetrating.  "Yes, Mark, I can do it.  I can do to you
whatever I choose.  Now you will obey me, soldier.  Now!"

Suddenly his arms flexed and he increased the strength of the blows.  Now
it hurt and Mark's eyes widened in pain and fury.  "Fuck you, man," he
screamed.  "Aaaah!"  As the punishment intensified he saw himself chained
in the cell, saw his body writhing under the lash, saw his handsome, exotic
captor as his muscles flexed and gleamed with sweat.

He couldn't take any more.  It was not so much the pain, as the sight of
this magnificent man that made him scream, "OK, man, you win.  I give up
... I submit!"  His cock shuddered and shot a long ribbon of cum across the
sand, splashing onto Hassan's smooth olive skin.

"Yes, Mark," Hassan shouted.  "That is what I see in my dreams.  That is
what makes me cum," ... and he in turn blasted a flood of white liquid onto
the man writhing before him.  They stood gazing at each other, their cocks
shooting stream after stream of semen across the space between them
... just as they had that fateful day, a day they would never forget ... a
day they had needed to re-live on this wild, deserted beach.

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

They lay for a long time, their bodies entwined together on the hot sand.
Hassan whispered, "Thank you, Mark.  Thank you for taking me back to that
place."

"Yeah," Mark said.  "That was a tough time, but hey, look where it brought
us ... here together, on the beach, with those two gorgeous young surfers
back there waiting for us.  Come on, man.  Let's go find them.  And this
time I promise I won't highjack you and plough your ass."

Hassan grinned.  "Oh, highjacking's good.  You'll never hear me object."

They got to their feet, closed up the shack, pulled on their swim trunks
and ran back along the empty beach without stopping ... no pause, no
highjacking, just an eagerness to put the past behind them and rejoin the
boys.

But the boys were not there.

Mark looked out to sea and there was no one, no Jamie or Nate, no other
surfers.  Seeing the alarm on Mark's face Hassan said, "Don't worry, Mark,
they probably got tired of surfing and wandered into the village for a bite
to eat."

"Then where are their surfboards?" Mark retorted, panic rising in his
voice.  "No, they're still out there somewhere ... something must have
happened.  I've gotta get out there, find them.  Stay here, buddy, in case
they show up.  I've gotta find them."  He took off, racing to the water and
launching himself headlong into the waves.

Mark, the consummate police officer, was usually calm and steady as a rock.
Not this time ... this was about Jamie, his boy, the boy he loved and
protected.  He tried desperately to steady his nerves and control the
panic, but his mind was whirling with thoughts of the past.  The rip-tides
here could be brutal and he thought of the time all the boys had been
adrift in the rowboat.  Thank god he had been there to rescue them.

He felt a stab of fear as he remembered the day that Jamie had been caught
in the rip-tide and almost drowned, saved only by the kiss of life Mark had
administered just in time.  That life-saving kiss, the moment they had
gazed at each other and fallen in love.  "Jamie!" he yelled breathlessly as
he felt panic overtaking him.  "Jamie, where are you?"

But he realized that shouting was useless above the sound of the waves and
would only sap his strength.  So he quickened his powerful strokes,
frantically searching over the waves hoping desperately to catch a glimpse
of the boys, or at least a loose surfboard.  "I can't lose him," he
thought.  "I can't ... I love the boy ... he's my boy!"  He didn't realize
that the salt water on his face was not only the sea, it was tears of
anguish and dread.

It was becoming hopeless as he scanned the empty ocean with no sign of
anything but the swell of water.  He found himself swimming toward the end
of the beach, in the opposite direction from where he had run earlier.
There was a long sandspit separating this beach from the next, its long arm
jutting out into the ocean.  Nearing exhaustion he knew instinctively that
climbing up onto the sand here would give him a better view of the sea
... a better chance of finding them, he thought, though the prospects of
this were dimming.

Panting heavily he hauled himself from the water and stumbled up onto the
sandspit.  His eyes were blurred with seawater and tears, but as his vision
cleared he anxiously scanned the endless expanse of ocean.  Nothing.
"Please," he begged to no-one in particular.  "Let me find them ... I need
Jamie."  Frantically he turned round to scan the other beach on the far
side of the sandspit ... and his heart leapt.  The place was deserted,
except for what looked like two figures bobbing in the swell in the far
distance.  He squinted, strained his eyes, and then, as the swell rose
behind them, he saw them jump up on their surfboards and ride the wave.

Mark was not a religious man but he said a silent prayer of thanks anyway.
It had to be them ... but why were they all the way over there?  Had they
been swept this far?  He began to leap up and down, waving his arms wildly,
screaming Jamie's name, even though he knew he couldn't be heard from this
distance.  But he was a big man and his frantic efforts to attract their
attention finally paid off.  He saw them drop flat onto their boards and
they seemed to be paddling back in his direction.

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

As Mark watched the boys come closer he could see Jamie's gleaming
shoulders as he paddled strongly, he could see his face ... that face that
he had kissed so many times as he made love to him, the face of the boy he
adored.  His mind was racing with conflicting emotions.  As his panic
abated it was replaced with relief, then bewilderment as to how they had
gone so far ... and why?  It couldn't have been a mistake ... it was
deliberate.  And now his other thoughts were smothered by something even
more acute ... a rising anger.

As the boys paddled round the headland and headed to shore Mark dived back
into the surf and swam strongly to the beach.  Exhausted in body and mind
he staggered out of the water and into Hassan's waiting arms.  "Take it
easy, man," Hassan said.  "Deep breaths.  It's OK, they're safe.  Look,
here they come."

Mark turned and watched the boys wade out of the water, their boards under
their arms.  The grins on their faces faded suddenly as they saw Mark's
expression.  It was one of ice-cold anger.  Mark's relief at seeing his boy
safe and sound was eclipsed by a fury born of fear.  All the panic,
foreboding and dread of the last half-hour now coalesced into rage that his
boy could have been so thoughtless as to put himself in danger, and cause
his master such grief.

And now his anger found full voice.  "What the fuck did you think you were
doing, boy?  Do you know what you put me through, not knowing where you
were, if you were even alive or dead?  You stupid, fucking young idiot,
just out for your own pleasure, not caring what it would do to the man who
loves you?  Didn't I tell you not to go out too far?  What do you think
Hassan and I felt when we got back and you had disappeared?  Don't you
remember the time you almost drowned out there and I had to bring you back
to life?  Shit, I'm beginning to wonder if it was worth it."

Mark checked himself as he suddenly realized he had gone too far.  But far
from being chastened, Jamie was spurred to anger by what he saw as the
injustice of Mark's harsh words.  Worse, he was being reprimanded in front
of his young friend, Nate, the boy who respected him as a leader, the boy
he showed off to as a proud, confident young stud.  Jamie could not let
Mark's reproach go unchallenged.

"Sir, that's not fair," he said defiantly.  "I decided that the waves here
were shit and that's why we went to the next beach where the surf was
higher.  It was my decision, not Nate's, in fact he objected, but I don't
think I did anything wrong."  Jamie's defiance was escalating as he became
more passionate in his defense, his voice choking with indignation.  "You
have no right talking to me like that in front of my friend.  I'm an adult
... I can make my own decisions ... I don't need your permission just
because ... because you're some big tough cop."  His eyes were brimming
with tears.  "Stop telling me what to do.  You have no right ... you're not
my dad!"

There was a shocked silence as his last bitter words hung in the air.
Jamie was trembling but he had enough sense to realize he had gone too far.
There was only one thing he could do.  He turned and ran away, sobbing as
he pounded over the sand and up into the dunes.  Mark was stunned by
Jamie's outburst and his instinct was to follow his boy.  But as he was
about take off he felt a hand grip his wrist and restrain him.

"Take it easy, man," Hassan said calmly.  "Let him go, you'll only make it
worse.  Better wait a minute `til he cools off, then go and talk to him."
Hassan was moved by the lost look of confusion and bewilderment in Mark's
usually steady eyes.  Mark made a stammering attempt to explain himself.
"I was angry because I was scared, man ... scared of losing him.  And now
I've lost him.  Do you think I've lost him, buddy?"

"Of course not," Hassan smiled.  "You two ... never.  Shit, if you'd lost
him I'd snap him up in a heartbeat, but that ain't gonna happen.  He's your
boy and you're his master, and that's not gonna change.  But there's no way
he should have talked to you like that and you'll have to decide how you
deal with that."  He looked over at Nate, standing nearby in a state of
shock.  Hassan nodded in his direction and raised his eyebrows at Mark.

Mark took his cue and walked over to the boy.  "Nate, I'm sorry about all
this.  I believe that none of this was your fault.  Jamie said you objected
to going so far out but I know how you look up to him and would follow him
anywhere.  Now while I go speak to Jamie I'm gonna leave you with Hassan.
Why don't you fix him a drink and have something to eat with him?"

"OK if I tidy up the shack too and put away our gear, sir?" Nate said
shyly.

"Hey, let me help you with that," said Hassan gently.  "Don't worry, kid,
I'll take care of you."  As they walked toward the shack Hassan threw his
arm round Nate's shoulder.  Nate sighed with relief.  After all, he had
wanted to get to know Hassan better, hadn't he?

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

It didn't take long for Mark to find Jamie.  Coming over the crest of one
of the dunes he saw him in a hollow, sitting with his knees drawn up, his
arms hugging them and his head buried in his arms.  His hunched shoulders
shook as he sobbed.  Mark approached silently.

"Hey."  Startled Jamie raised his tear-stained eyes and flinched away from
him.  Mark squatted by him but when he touched his shoulder the boy
flinched again.  He clearly was not about to talk, so Mark did.

 "Look, kid, I think we both lost our cool back there.  I was afraid I had
lost you out in the ocean ... I was pretty frantic for a while... and when
I found you my fear turned to anger.  I guess I came on a bit strong.  I
was right to reprimand you but I shouldn't have done it in front of Nate
... I know how that must have humiliated you.  Even so, you should never
have spoken to me the way you did."

He paused, expecting some reaction, but Jamie didn't move so Mark
continued.  "What do you want from me, kid?  Look, what you said back there
about me not being your dad.  Shit, boy, I'll adopt you if you want, like
Randy did Pablo.  Just tell me what you want."

Finally Jamie raised his head and his teary eyes looked directly into
Mark's.  "I want you to punish me, sir.  I don't know why I said all those
things.  I didn't mean any of it.  I thought I had ruined everything and
you wouldn't want me anymore."

Mark's voice rose, "Jamie, for god's sake, I've told you a million times
you're my boy and that's never gonna change no matter what."

"Thank you, sir.  But I know I was wrong to go to the other beach ... I
didn't think how scared you'd be that we'd drowned or something.  And I
know for sure I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.  So I want you to
punish me, sir, like they do in the house when someone screws up.  Nate and
Hassan heard me say all those crazy things, so I need to show them how
stupid I've been.  I need them to see you punish me, sir, to hurt me.  And
it has to be real."

"OK, Jamie.  I understand how you feel."

"But one other thing, sir.  Please don't punish Nate.  It was all my idea
and he said we shouldn't go.  He tried to stop me but when I went anyway he
followed me `cause you had said we should stay together.  So don't punish
him, sir.  He's a real good guy."

"I know he is, Jamie, and so are you."  In Mark's mind Jamie had just
redeemed himself.  But he knew he had to punish him.  It was the only way.

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

Hassan and Nate were gazing down in awe.  When Mark and Jamie had got back
it was the sight of Jamie's big surfboard lying on the sand that gave Mark
the idea.  And now everything was ready.

It was an awesome sight.  Jamie was lying naked on his back on the board,
his arms stretched upward, his wrists tied with a rope and the rope looped
over the big curved fin at the end of the board.  There was a rope round
his chest, so the young surfer was lashed to his own surfboard.  His fine,
muscular body was gleaming in the sun, his handsome face was streaked with
sea-salt and sand and his tousled blond hair hung in a tangle over his
forehead.  The sight of the gorgeous young surfer tied to his surfboard
gave all three men stiff erections in their shorts.

"Let me see you get free," Mark's deep voice growled.  Jamie looked up at
his wrists roped round the fin and pulled at them hopelessly.  He tried to
twist his body, his lean young muscles flexing and straining, but he was
lashed tight to the board.  He looked spectacular and Hassan murmured
softly, "Holy shit, that's incredible."

Naked now, Mark stood astride Jamie and looked down at him.  "You did the
unforgivable thing, boy ... you insulted your master.  When you became my
boy I told you I would love you and protect you but that you had to obey me
always.  Now you have disobeyed ... disobeyed me!  Look at me boy!"  He
held his arms out to the side and flexed his magnificent torso.  "Do I look
like the kind of guy who tolerates disobedience in a boy?  You have
insulted me in front of our friends and you have to be punished.  I'm gonna
hurt you, boy."

Mark dropped to his knees astride Jamie's chest.  His blue-gray eyes
penetrated Jamie's as he touched the boy's bound chest.  Suddenly his
fingers gripped Jamie's nipples tight and he twisted them hard.  "Aaagh!"
Jamie's scream echoed along the beach and through the dunes, drowning out
the crash of the waves and the cry of the whirling seagulls.

Again Mark wrench his nipples with savage strength and again Jamie
screamed, his head thrashing from side to side, tears spurting from his
eyes.  Again and again Mark twisted the nipples brutally and Jamie's
screams were agonized, so pitiful that Nate took a step forward until he
felt Hassan's restraining hand on his shoulder.  Nate looked up with tears
in his eyes but Hassan shook his head at him.  They were not to intervene.
This was between Mark and his boy.

Mark was now applying steady pressure to the nipples and Jamie felt that
his whole chest was on fire.  The pain was excruciating and he looked up
desperately at the master who had never hurt him like this.  In his haze of
pain he heard Mark's deep voice.  "Now you know what it means to insult
your master, boy.  What do you have to say for yourself?"

Through his wracking sobs Jamie moaned, "I'm sorry, sir.  I know I
disobeyed you ... I never will again, sir.  You are my master and I love
you, sir.  I worship you.  Please forgive me, sir.  Please ..."  Tears
poured down his face.  "It hurts so bad, sir.  Please stop hurting me."

Immediately it ended, as the fingers pulled away with one last burst of
pain.  Jamie gazed up at the beautiful Nordic face and gasped, "Thank you,
sir.  Thank you, sir."

"We're not finished yet, boy.  First your chest, now you ass."  Mark eased
backward until he was kneeling on the board between Jamie's legs.  He threw
the legs high in the air and with one swift, brutal thrust impaled the
young ass on his steel-like rod.  Again Jamie screamed.  He had been fucked
countless time by Mark, but never like this.  Mark never fucked him
savagely, but this time was different.

The piston drove into the boy's ass without mercy.  Sweat poured off
Jamie's helpless, writhing body, straining against the ropes, as he endured
the relentless pounding in his ass.  "I'm gonna ream your ass, boy," Mark
growled.  "You will never, ever disobey me again, never talk back to me
again, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." Jamie groaned through the pain of the piston ramming into him.
"I'm sorry, sir.  Let me prove to you that I'm sorry.  Fuck my ass sir
... fuck me hard ... hurt me sir ... I need you to hurt me sir ... just so
you'll forgive me.  I love you, sir.  You're all my life."  He screamed
with pain and joy, "I love you, sir!"

Suddenly the pain stopped, the pounding stopped and all Jamie could feel
was the cock sliding gently, slowly in and out of his ass.  He looked up in
surprise and saw Mark smiling down at him.  It was over ... the anger the
punishment, the pain ... all of it was over, replaced by the exquisite,
gentle loving that they knew every day of their lives.  "That's it, Jamie,"
Mark said.  "I forgive you.  I love you.  I love you always, boy, every day
... always.  Now you have to do one last thing for me, and you know what
that is."

"Yes, sir," Jamie said, managing to smile through his tears.  "Now, sir?"
Mark nodded and Jamie felt his cock shudder as a long ribbon of cream shot
from his cock and splashed on his master's chest.  He felt Mark explode
inside him, and that made him shoot some more, again and again as he
watched the muscular body moving above him, slowing until it was still.

Mark pulled out, sprang to his feet and said, "Release him."  Instantly
Nate was on his knees pulling at the ropes until his friend was finally
free.  Hassan knelt on the other side and together they eased Jamie up on
his feet and held his arms as he faced his glorious master.  Mark walked
forward, paused as he looked deep into his boy's eyes, then took him into
his arms and held him tight.

Each man, master and boy, had tears streaming down his face.

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

Mark and Hassan were sitting on the small porch watching Jamie and Nate
rough-housing in the surf.  The experience had brought the boys even closer
together and Jamie was even more of a hero in Nate's eyes.  The men sipped
beers in silence for a while, then Hassan looked at Mark and said, "Well
done, man.  That couldn't have been easy."

"It was agony for me, hurting my boy like that.  I'm ashamed of myself."

"Nah, you had to do that and you know it.  Jamie wanted to be punished and
it had to be real.  It was the only way he could ever begin to forgive
himself for talking to you like he did.  Submitting to you was the only way
Jamie could prove to you, to himself and to us that he was devoted to you
... that he would do anything for you, suffer any pain."

There was silence again, then Mark said, "Jesus it's tough, loving someone
as much as that."

"Yeah, tell me about it, Mark."  Hassan looked directly into his friend's
eyes.  "I know all about that.  Love's a bitch."

Mark put his arm round him.  "Hassan, you know you and I will always love
each other ... shit, after everything we've been through.  We're two of a
kind, man.  And now that you're living in L.A., just up the hill ..." and
he smiled seductively.  "But listen, man, I'm gonna ask a favor of you.
You know that the plan was for the boys to sleep in their tent tonight and
we'd share the bed in the shack.  Well I was wondering ... just for tonight
if ..."

"... if you could sleep with Jamie in the tent and Nate will bunk in with
me in the shack.  Of course, man ... wouldn't have it any other way.  You
two have to make your peace.  Hell, you'll probably be making love all
night ... but tomorrow night, you're all mine OK?"

Hassan smiled and took a sip of beer.  "Besides, that Nate's a hot young
kid.  Oh, he doesn't have the glamor that Jamie has, but he's real handsome
in a quiet way ... hot young body too.  He may be shy, but he's nobody's
fool ... real direct and honest, with a great sense of humor.  I like all
that about him.  Reminds me a bit of how I was at his age.  Yeah, I like
Nate a lot."

"Sounds like you won't mind sharing your bed with him, buddy."

"Oh, I won't mind," Hassan said, flashing a big smile.  "I won't mind at
all."

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

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" ... Chapter 137

Hi 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.  I
always reply.

ALSO, I urge you to visit my Web-site www.atrialofstrength.com.  You can
read the whole story, all the many chapters, with extras, including
pictures and biographies of all the characters and some other great
artwork.  Click on the `Our Story' tab to read the current chapter, or
click on the green button to browse all the chapter synopses.

Enjoy!  Rob Williams