Date: Fri, 8 Feb 2013 01:49:37 -0500 (EST)
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 144  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 144
By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER:
   Pablo's rampage knocks Randy off-balance.  He loses face and must
reassert his dominance as boss.  "His eyes ran over Bob's perfect face and
body.  `Shit, you are so fucking beautiful, man.  Any man who can tame a
gorgeous, alpha stud like you still deserves to be boss.  On your knees,
man'."  Later he watches the desolate Pablo, "his beautiful boy, abandoned
by everyone."  He has to show him he is still loved.

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

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH-CHAPTER 144 –"Randy and Pablo – Like Father Like Son"

"What the fuck?"  The shout bounced off the walls and rage filled the room.
Pablo had just come home and stood horrified by the sight of his naked
lover Darius with a boy in his arms.  Darius said brightly, "Hey, dude,
you're home.  This is Eddie, the kid from the bar in Palm Springs I told
you about.  He's ..."

But he got no farther as Pablo's fist slammed into his face, making him
reel backwards and collapse on the bed.  Dimly he saw Pablo punch Eddie in
the stomach, then drop him with a forearm smash across his back.  Alarmed
by all the noise Nate had run into the room, but Pablo kneed him in the
stomach and banged his head against the wall.  On his way out of the house
Pablo also made short work of Jamie and then the twins.  Leaving a trail of
destruction he turned at the gate and yelled dementedly, "So long suckers!"
And he was gone.

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

Pablo's rage had been fermenting for a long time.  In recent weeks he had
felt his position in the house down-shift in a subtle way.  Pablo had
always basked in his role as the boss's boy and adopted son ... the `senior
boy'... but now he felt threatened by the rise in status of the other boys.
First came the story of Darius's triumph in the desert bar, putting on a
hot show with the magnificent Zack.  And who was this Eddie who seemed to
idolize Darius?

And now Nate was the star of the house, with his two masters, Hassan and
Adam.  Jamie had the gorgeous Greek-god cop, and the twins were the boys of
the much-loved leader of the household, Bob.  Pablo's insecurity made him
imagine demons around him where none existed.  His self-doubt, envy and
paranoia gnawed at him, working its way through him like a malevolent worm.
And the shock of seeing Darius holding the young Eddie had made all Pablo's
anger and resentment erupt like a dormant volcano coming to life.

Mercifully Mark, Bob and Zack had come home from work soon after Pablo left
and were shocked by the carnage that met their eyes.  Mark knelt beside
Jamie, crumpled in a heap on the lawn.  Bob was helping the twins, and Zack
was upstairs cradling Darius who had felt the full fury of Pablo's fists.

Eddie had fled, but as Mark drove home he had seen the terrified boy and
brought him back to the house.  Nate had also left the house.  He knew he
was no match for Pablo and, thinking he was still in the house, knew he had
to get help.  At that point the men had not yet come home from work but
there was one obvious man to turn to, Nate's new master, Hassan.

Hassan had been shocked to see his boy running down to his house, sporting
a black eye and a growing bump on his forehead.  Nate shouted frantically,
"Sir, you've gotta go down to the house.  They need help.  Pablo's gone
crazy ... beat everyone up.  Please go quick, sir."

Hassan made sure that Nate was only bruised and said, "OK, kiddo, lie down
and rest.  I'll take care of everything, then I'll be back."  As he ran up
to his jeep his rage ignited.  His boy had been hurt ... Adam's boy, the
boy Hassan had sworn to protect.  He growled, "Randy!  That fucking asshole
and his crazy kid, out of control again.  OK, pal, you're dealing with me
now."

Soon after he left, as Nate rested in the guesthouse, another truck pulled
up at the main gate of Steve and Lloyd's house.  The driver pressed the
buzzer and Steve's voice came through the intercom.  "Who is it?"  There
was a long pause until the haggard voice finally answered.

"Uncle Steve.  It's me, Pablo.  I'm in trouble.  Can I come in?"

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

Back at the house the men were starting to bring things under control,
coming to a consensus that the boys were not injured badly enough to need
medical attention, beyond ice-packs and rest.  Zack had left Darius briefly
and come out to take care of the dazed Eddie, putting his arm round his
shoulders as they sat at the table by the pool.

Suddenly the gate opened and Randy stood there, the last one to get home
from work as usual.  He stopped in his tracks, stunned by the chaotic scene
on the lawn.  "What the fuck's going on here?" he barked.

In reply all he got was three pairs of accusing eyes glaring up at him.  It
was Randy's boy who had caused this mayhem, and instinctively the men
blamed his master, fairly or not.  They knew that Pablo always imitated
Randy, and Randy was famous for solving every conflict with his fists.
Like father like son.

"What?" Randy growled defensively, acutely aware of the animosity projected
at him.

Bob stood up.  "We're not sure of all the details but it seems that Pablo
completely lost his cool and attacked all the boys here.  Darius is
upstairs, hurt the worst of them.  Fortunately there seem to be no broken
bones ... no thanks to your crazy boy."

"Where is he?"  Randy looked around him, clenching his fists.

"We don't know.  He split right after his rampage."

Just then they heard the screech of brakes outside.  Pablo, they all
assumed ... but they were wrong.  The gate crashed open and Hassan stood
there, still dressed in his military fatigues, his eyes blazing.  His gaze
settled like a laser on Randy as he strode forward to confront him.  His
voice was cold as ice.

"My boy has been hurt.  The boy I swore to protect has been hurt."  His
anger exploded.  "What the fuck's wrong with you, man?  Don't you have any
control over that train-wreck of a kid of yours?  He's nothing but a young
thug ... and we know where he gets that from."

Randy stepped forward menacingly and Hassan gave a sarcastic laugh.  "What,
you gonna take a swing at me, asshole?  Just like your fucking boy.  Well
let me save you the trouble, pal."  He hauled back and slammed his fist
across Randy's face, sending him sprawling across the ground.

But it took more than a fist to subdue Randy, a street fighter all his
life.  He sprang to his feet, lowered his head and charged forward,
slamming his shoulder into the soldier's stomach.  In seconds they were
rolling on the ground, trading blows, yelling obscenities at each other.
Like two maddened bulls locking horns they heaved and struggled for the
advantage in a savage fight, bodies smothered in dirt, their shirts soon
torn to shreds.

Like a frozen tableau men and boys gazed at the two warriors writhing in
the dust.  But then the men sprang to life.  Mark and Zack used all their
strength trying to separate them and Bob yelled, "That's enough!  Now
you're the thugs.  Guys, this is not the way.  Now cool it!"  A combination
of Mark and Zack's physical efforts and Bob's angry shouts finally had an
effect and soon the men were standing glaring at each other like raging
stallions pawing the ground, held back by Mark and Zack.

Bob took command.  "Jamie, take Eddie upstairs to Darius and make sure
they're both OK.  Stay with them until we send for you."  As Jamie helped
Eddie toward the house Bob looked around at the food and plates scattered
over the ground.  "Kyle, Kevin, if you're feeling up to it, do you think
you can salvage dinner for this evening?"

"No problem, sir," said Kevin.  "An hour tops," Kyle added.

"Thanks, guys ... you're the best.  We'll talk later.

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

It was a somber group of men that gathered in the living room with beers
that the twins had brought into them, Randy and Hassan nursing bruised
bodies and bruised egos.  It was hard to know where to start but Bob's
first instincts were to defend Randy.  "Hassan, I know how protective you
feel toward Nate, for his sake and Adam's, but I don't think it's
productive to lay all the blame on Randy.  Pablo has a mind and a will of
his own.  He'll probably be back soon and we have to work out how to handle
him."

Just then the house phone rang and again they assumed it was Pablo.  Bob
picked up, listened, and looked up at Randy.  "It's Steve for you, buddy.
I'll put him on speaker."  Steve's voice was calm and authoritative.
"Good, you're all there.  Well, the good news is that Pablo's here at my
house.  The not-so-good news is that he's in a hell of a state.  He's not
very coherent but from what I gather from his ramblings he lost control of
himself at the house and beat up all the boys.  Anyone badly hurt?"

"They'll live," said Randy sullenly.

"I've given Pablo a sedative and he's resting in the guest room.  Obviously
it's not a good idea for him to go back down to you ... I would say not for
a few days.  I'll keep him here and talk to him.  After all, I am
technically his therapist.  But I think one thing I'll insist on is that he
goes back to work as soon as possible, then come back up here in the
evenings.  It's important to re-establish his normal routine ... give him
something productive to do.  One thing I ask, Randy, is that you do nothing
for now.  Don't interact with him at work if possible, OK bro?  Right, well
that has to be it for now ... I have to go and keep an eye on him.  I'll
call again later."

He hung up abruptly and the guys looked at each other, digesting the news.
But before anyone could speak there was a cough at the door.  They looked
up in surprise ... it was Darius, his face bruised and his arm in a
make-shift sling, but his eyes were bright and eager.  "I'm sorry to
interrupt, sirs, but is it alright if I say something?"

"Sure, kid," Zack said.  "Go ahead."

"Well, sir, I heard what Steve said and I'm glad Pablo is with him.  But I
was wondering, after he's had his therapy and stuff with Steve, do you
think I could handle him after that ... take care of him and sort out
everything with the other guys?  Lot of bruised feelings ..." he managed a
grin ... "and bruised faces too.  But I kind of feel it's important for the
boys to work all this out for themselves.  And I think we can, sirs."

The men looked at each other in surprise, impressed at this new, confident
Darius.  Zack spoke for them all.  "Thanks for the suggestion, Darius.
But, er, what do you plan to do first?"

"Well, nothing, sir.  Not for a while.  Kinda let the dust settle ... let
all the tempers cool down."

"And later?"

"When Pablo's had time to think I'll talk to him, try to find out why he
did what he did... then see if we can fix it.  Pablo's my lover, sir, my
best friend.  I gotta help him somehow."  He grinned awkwardly.  "What d'ya
think, sir?"

Zack looked around at the others who were giving nods of approval.  "OK,
kid, it's up to you, then.  Now what about young Eddie?"

"I've thought about that too, sir.  I feel real bad about him.  He's a shy
young kid and he's fallen into something here that's really scared the
bejesus out of him.  He looks up to me and I should protect him.  If it's
OK, I'd like to invite him to stay while he's in L.A.  Maybe we could stay
over at your house, sir, and the twins in your guest house can keep an eye
on him too."

Zack smiled warmly at him.  "Sounds like a plan, kiddo.  You seem to have
thought of everything ... I'm really impressed ... real proud of you, boy."

"I think that goes for all of us, Darius," Bob smiled.  "Now, like Steve
said, keeping up the normal routine is important, so if you three guys are
up for it, the twins said they can have dinner ready in an hour.  Go back
and tell them, and take good care of Eddie.  Right around now he must be
feeling he's in some kind of madhouse."

"Leave it to me, sir," Darius grinned ... "and thanks for listening."  As
he left the room the guys could swear there was more pride and confidence
in his stride than they had ever seen before.

Mark said it best.  "You know, that guy came into the room a boy and went
out a man."

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

Hassan left the meeting to go back to Nate.  Randy had said little at the
meeting and Bob could see he was anxious to leave too.  He saw in his eyes
a mix of shock, bewilderment and even embarrassment.  "Hey, buddy," he said
quietly, "there's nothing more we can do here so what say we go up to the
room and shower before dinner, eh?"

They got up and as they left the room Bob turned and said, "Thanks guys."
Mark and Zack nodded in tacit understanding that Bob had work to do.  And
he did.  When they got to their room Randy paced back and forth, clenching
and unclenching his fists.  He felt he had lost control, not only of his
boy but, in a way, of his position as leader of the group.  He had lost
face, and Hassan's words still rang in his ears ..."What's wrong with you,
man? ... Don't you have any control over that train-wreck of a kid of
yours?

Control?  He'd show them control!  Fuck Hassan ... fuck them all and their
accusing looks. He was the boss, goddamit, and he would damn-well prove it.
His eyes fell on Bob, who knew exactly what came next.  It always did when
Randy was angry or when he needed to prove his macho dominance.

At times like this Randy scared him a bit, but Bob's overwhelming sensation
was lust for this wild, savage man ... the man who had tamed him all that
time ago in the motel room.  Despite the pain and degradation Randy had
inflicted on him then Bob had never been so excited in his life and had
found himself coming back for more, even if it meant crawling at the
master's feet.  Now their eyes locked and the same spark flashed between
them as on that very first time.  And just as it had been then, Bob's cock
was now rock hard in his pants.

As so often before Randy was taking out all his frustrations on the man he
loved.  If he could make this glorious, beautiful man submit to him he
could make anyone submit.  "What?" he barked.  "You too?  You think because
my kid fucked up bad that I've lost control?  Well fuck the kid, and fuck
you, man.  I'm still the boss, and I'm still your boss.  Get those fucking
clothes off, man."

Bob was no longer the proud, confident business executive.  He longed to
surrender himself to this demon gypsy of a man.  Frantically he threw off
his jacket, ripped off his tie and shirt, and dropped his pants.  In
seconds he was naked, his cock standing out rigid as a pole.  Randy gazed
at him and all his confidence flooded back.  Time to prove to them both who
was boss.

"That's it asshole, fucking butt naked ... and you're all mine.  His eyes
ran over Bob's perfect face and muscular body.  "Shit, you are so fucking
beautiful, man.  Yeah, a man who can tame a gorgeous, alpha stud like you
still deserves to be boss, don't you think?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you're gonna do exactly what I tell you?"

"Yes, sir."

"OK, stud, on your knees."  Bob fell obediently to his knees and focused on
the huge bulge in Randy's greasy cargo pants.  He ripped them open and
gasped as he always did when he saw the massive club rear up before his
eyes.  He felt Randy's hand behind his head and within seconds he was
gagging on the rod crammed in his mouth.  He knew this was not love ... it
was savage animal lust.  This was the side of Randy that turned him on most
and he labored mightily to please his master, gulping hard, squeezing his
throat muscles round the pulsing cock forcing its way inside him.

Randy had worked hard all day, sweating in the hot sun, and Bob now tasted,
smelled, the rancid, sweaty stink of the construction worker's cock and
balls.  When the cock was deep inside his throat he buried his face in the
damp, wiry pubic hair, relishing the musky, male taste of this rugged man.

As Randy looked down at the spectacular Superman face impaled on his iron
rod he became more savage than ever, grabbing Bob's tousled black hair and
pulling his face forward onto is cock again and again.  He was reaffirming
his macho power to himself but, more importantly, to Bob, the man whose
opinion mattered most to him in the world.

By now Bob was gagging on the huge tool, gulping down the pungent taste of
pre-cum that oozed from it.  His throat was aching and he waited for the
relief of Randy's explosion in his mouth.  But that didn't happen.  Now at
a pitch of desire for his beautiful lover Randy suddenly yanked his cock
out of his mouth, pulled him up by the shoulders and threw him bodily down
onto the bed.

Bob bounced as he fell naked on his back and looked up in a daze.  He had
never seen anything more exciting.  Towering over him was a heaving,
sweating stallion of a man, eyes blazing with lust, black hair flying over
his face, huge horse dick rearing up before him.  This was the King of the
Gypsies, the wild-eyed dark demon, the most spectacular man Bob had even
known.  Randy murmured to himself as he kicked off his boots and dropped
his pants.

"They think I've lost control.  Well think again, mother-fuckers.  I'm the
master of this house and I can do anything I fucking-well want."  Naked
now, he stared down at his lover, lying at his mercy.  "And I have the most
beautiful man who ever lived.  Look at that face, that body ... totally
fucking gorgeous ... and he's mine.  He's mine!  And I'm gonna fuck him in
the ass!"

It all happened in seconds.  Still standing Randy bent forward and grabbed
Bob's ankles, pulled his legs up and held them apart.  His eyes were like
lasers piercing Bob's as he shouted, "This is it, man.  This is your
master!"  In one stunning move he fell forward and the power of his fall
drove his cock straight into the helpless ass of his victim.  The pain of
the steel shaft plunging into him was worse than Bob had ever felt.

His scream reverberated round the room, his head flew backwards and his
body convulsed, writhing in a reflexive attempt to escape.  But Randy fell
further forward and clamped his hands on Bob's wrists pinning them to the
bed above his head.  His blazing eyes penetrated Bob's and instantly the
men became one, joined by that magical sensation that swept away pain,
rage, and savagery, leaving behind a dreamlike world of pure, indescribable
passion.

Impaled on his lover's cock Bob suddenly became still and gazed up at the
man he worshipped.  There was no pain now ... but he wanted more ... he
longed to feel the jackhammer of the brutal construction worker who had
first tamed him so long ago.  His eyes gleamed as he moaned, "Fuck me, man
... my ass is yours, sir.  Fuck me ... hurt me ... make me beg you to cum
in my ass."

"Oh, yeah.  Here it comes, man."  Randy pulled all the way out, paused
... and then drove his shaft into him again.  It became a piston, plunging
in and out, faster and faster, piercing to the depths of Bob's ravaged ass.
Now the searing pain broke through Bob's euphoria and he began yelling
again, his muscles flexing desperately, tears streaming from his eyes.

Randy stared manically at the beautiful face, contorted in pain, thrashing
from side to side, and the sight overcame all the frustration and doubt
that had gripped him earlier.  He was back in control, reasserting his
strength, pounding ass.  He was the boss, he could do anything, even
dominate a man as beautiful as this, just as his boy dominated the others.
`Yeah, he's my boy alright ... tough like me ... tougher than all the rest.
He does what he wants ... and I can do what I like to this gorgeous stud.'

In his delirium of power Randy lost control and entered another world.  He
looked down at a face that wasn't Bob's anymore.  It was simply a
spectacularly beautiful face that he needed to possess, to control.  He was
the master, he could do anything to it... own it ... use it ... hurt it.
"I can do anything!" he yelled, raising his hand and slamming it across the
gorgeous face.  The face flew to the side, twisted in pain.

Randy blinked and shook his head.  Now it was a face he knew, a face he
loved.  Bob's face!  He had just slammed his hand across the face of the
man he loved more than his own life...

There was a stunned silence.  Then Randy's eyes opened wide and he
screamed, "NO!"  It was as if floodlights blazed on, bathing the scene in
the unforgiving white light of reality.  He had just hit his lover, the man
he idolized!  He had savaged his ass and now he had slammed his face.  He
reared back, his cock wrenched free and he leapt to his feet, pacing the
room, his face buried in his hands.  He was lost, devastated by what he had
done.  A minute later he looked down and saw Bob lying in a daze, an angry
red mark on his cheek.

Randy fell on the bed beside him, pulled Bob into him and cradled him in
his arms, talking incoherently.  "Oh, man, what have I done? ... to you, of
all people.  Please forgive me, man ... don't leave me ... please don't
leave me.  I don't know, I ... I went crazy.  Just like my boy did ... I'm
no better than him ... that's where he gets it from ... from me.  What am I
gonna do, man?  Help me, Bob ... please ... I can't..."

"Hey, hey, hey.  Look at me, buddy."  Randy raised a tear-stained face.
Bob held it in his hands, pulled it toward him and kissed him gently,
lovingly until he felt the tension drain from Randy's body.  They pulled
away and Randy pleaded, "What am I gonna do, man?"

Bob smiled, "I love you, Randy, you know that.  Do you love me?"

"More than my life, man."

"And do you love Pablo?"

"Of course ... he's my boy."

"Then there's your answer ... the answer to everything.  When did you last
tell Pablo you loved him?'

"What?  I dunno ... that's not something I do much."

"Then start, Randy.  Tell him ... show him."  Bob smiled at his lover's
bewildered face."

"Here ... let me show you how that goes."

Randy allowed himself be pushed over onto his back and he looked up at Bob
kneeling on the bed between his legs.  In a daze he saw Bob push his legs
up and he felt the tip of his cock against his ass.  He heard Bob's deep,
velvet voice.

"It is all about control, Randy ... but about yielding control.  Stop
trying so hard.  Just give yourself to me and let me love you."  He smiled
at him as he slid his cock gently into Randy's ass.  "See?  See how good
that feels.  The man who loves you is inside you, making love to you.
Forget being the boss, the master.  Just let me love you, Randy."

Randy's tense muscles relaxed.  He let all the anger, frustration and fear
drain from him as he felt his lover's cock moving tenderly in his ass.  He
moaned softly, his gaze transfixed on the image of this spectacular man
rising and falling above him.  Again their eyes met and they were joined as
one, but not as before in the heat of lust and passion.  This time they
were floating together in a pool of pure love, and Randy was being
hypnotized by his lover's voice.

"Now it's me in control, buddy.  And you're gonna do what I tell you.  Look
at me, man.  Feel my cock in your ass, and love me.  Love what you see,
what you hear, what you feel.  Love me so much that you can't hold back,
that you have to cum.  That's it, buddy.  Show me..."

Tears were flowing from Randy's eyes.  He uttered a low moan as he felt cum
rising up through his cock and streaming over his naked chest.  He looked
up through his tears and pleaded, "Now you, man," and he was answered with
the warm sensation of his lover's semen pouring deep inside his ass.  They
gazed at each other silently until their orgasms were spent.

Minutes later they lay in each other's arms.  But Bob was still in control.
"Now here's what happens next, buddy.  Steve is taking care of Pablo right
now, and later Darius will take over and square everything with the boys.
Your role in all this is simply to show Pablo you still love him.  In the
meantime, we go down to dinner now and you have to be real nice to the
boys, especially to Eddie.  Only you can set the tone, show them that
everything's on the mend.  You got it?"

"OK, sir," Randy grinned.  "You're the boss.  Shit, I started out trying to
tame you but it seems it worked out the other way round."

"Oh yeah, well about that."  Bob's voice became more submissive "That wild
gypsy who worked me over a while ago ... I, er, I don't want him to go away
... I want him back soon.  Long ago in that motel room I fell in love with
a rugged construction worker, a dark savage, and I still crave him.  I want
to kneel to the King of the Gypsies."

Randy gazed at his lover and his face broke into a dazzling smile.  He
reached out, grabbed Bob's head and pulled his face into his.  Their lips
joined and Randy kissed him ferociously, forcing his tongue inside him,
grinding their mouths together savagely.  Their lips were clamped so tight
that as they inhaled and exhaled deeply they shared the same air back and
forth.  Suddenly it stopped and Randy was gazing at Bob, his eyes dancing.
"That do it for you, asshole?  That's just a down-payment.  The rest comes
later.  See buddy, the wild gypsy never really left."

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

Randy had been floundering in the lake of self-doubt and confusion and now
he had just broken the surface, thanks to Bob.  But his boy was still
adrift in the murky waters and had yet to see daylight.  And that's where
Steve came in.

After Pablo's irrational explosion he had driven around in a state of acute
muddle and insecurity and found himself, almost by instinct, at Steve's
gate.  The man he really wanted was his master and adoptive dad, Randy, but
he knew he would get a frosty reception there.  He had let him down badly
and now he was desperate.  Steve, a near carbon copy of his brother Randy,
was the obvious choice.  Pablo was scared of accusation and recrimination
and he knew that what he would get from Steve would be the impartial,
non-judgmental help of the therapist.

Steve's reaction of giving Pablo a sedative had been an astute one, and
Pablo slept soundly in the guest room all night.  In the morning the
handsome architect Lloyd gave him breakfast and lent him a T-shirt that
hung on Pablo loosely and gave him a seductive bad-boy look.  Then Steve
took over, handsome and professional in slacks and a white dress shirt, his
tie loose at the neck.  He took Pablo into his comfortable office in the
back of house and the therapy began.

Honest and direct as ever, Pablo gave Steve a clear and detailed account of
the unhappy event, including, as far as he could, his own thoughts and
motivation.  When he was finished he looked anxiously at Steve, who frowned
slightly as he wrote notes, then raised his level gaze.

"So the way I see it, Pablo, in a nutshell, is that as the other boys
gradually found their footing in the house you felt your foothold slipping.
Am I right?"

Pablo sighed.  "I guess that's about the size of it, sir."

"Hmm... So let me ask you, how do you think we should go about dealing with
this problem?"

Pablo brightened.  "Well first of all, sir, I need to be punished.  That's
what Randy would do."

"Ah, yes ... but you forget, Randy's the wild brother and I'm the civilized
one.  And yet I suppose you want me to substitute for your dad and tie you
up and whip your ass, is that it?"

"Yes please, sir."

Steve sighed deeply.  "Ah, Pablo ... You have to see that the old cycle of
misbehavior followed by physical punishment that deep down you enjoy, won't
work this time."

"But, sir, I ..."  He trailed off and Steve was shocked to see in his eyes
not shame for what he had done, but lust for what he desired.  Steve
frowned deeply.

"Do you want me to fuck you. Pablo?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wrong answer, Pablo"

"You always told me there are no wrong answers, sir."

"Yeah, well that one's wrong.  Jesus Christ, after all that's happened you
can sit there and calmly ask me to fuck you?"

"It worked before, sir."  There was a trace of Pablo's crooked grin on his
face.

Steve was taken aback, remembering the couple of times in his office where
Pablo had seduced him.  "Well, not this time, kid!"  He took a deep breath
to control his anger and regain his professional poise.  "Now look, we
obviously have a long way to go with this, so here's what we're gonna do.
You're gonna stay here for a couple of days and we'll have some intense
therapy sessions until you're ready to confront the guys again."

"Will Randy be here, sir?"

"No he will not.  He definitely will not.  As a matter of fact I have told
him to keep his distance from you, which he seemed perfectly happy to do.
He is still royally pissed off at you.  However ... I am prescribing that
you go back to work right away.  It's important for you to resume a job
you're good at to regain some shreds of self-respect.  You will keep
yourself to yourself, have no contact with Randy, and after work you come
straight back up here.  Understood?"

Yes, sir," Pablo said meekly, surprised by the therapist's unusually harsh
tone.

Steve stood up and looked down at him severely.  "I want one thing clearly
understood.  I make the rules here and you will do just what I order you
to.  I know how you are, but you will not fuck around with me, boy.  And in
response to your earlier comment, the therapy will involve punishment but
not the kind you're used to and seem to enjoy.  No, my methods are
unorthodox and this punishment will be real.  And I guarantee you won't
enjoy it.  But you will obey me at all times.  Do I make myself clear,
boy?"

"Yes, sir," Pablo said meekly.  But as he looked up at the stern,
commanding figure of the therapist towering over him, his gorgeous face,
the muscles of his superb body rippling under the white cotton shirt, Pablo
could not prevent the erection that rose stiffly in his shorts.  And he was
sure it was not his imagination that there was a bulge in the therapist's
smart dress slacks.

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

It was mid-morning when Pablo walked nervously onto the construction site,
wearing his customary dungarees, held up by a single strap over one
shoulder and with nothing underneath.  He knew that Steve had called Randy
to explain his late arrival and to reiterate the no-contact rule.  Pablo
took a deep breath and was suddenly reassured by the busy, routine activity
of the crew, and the fact that Randy was working in his trailer office.

So he walked more-or-less unnoticed to the truck he had been working on the
day before, opened the hood and started work.  And now, as he worked alone,
concentrating hard on the job, he was hit for the first time by the bleak
loneliness of his situation.  Randy, his master, the man he idolized, was
angry to the point that he wasn't speaking to him.  He had probably lost
his lover, Darius, after the way he had beaten him and this new kid, Eddie.
And the other boys would no doubt shun him too.

Worst of all, he had lost everyone's respect.  He had always swaggered a
bit as the boss's boy, the senior boy, but after what he had done his role
as top-dog was shattered.  He thought briefly of running away from it all
... but he knew that would be cowardly.  Worst of all, he would be leaving
Randy, his idol, his hero, and he could never do that.  But what point was
there if Randy didn't love him anymore?

And so the day dragged on and he worked hard, in stoic silence, worked
harder than ever, actually, trying to prove to Randy that he was still
worth something after all.  But while the guys on the crew all got on with
their own various tasks, Pablo did not go unnoticed.  In the trailer Randy
was acutely aware of everything and many times during the day he raised his
eyes from the blueprints on the drawing board and looked through the window
at the solitary figure of the grease-stained boy working all alone.

Sure, there were still vestiges of anger in Randy for what the boy had
done, but they soon dissolved as he watched his boy and immense sadness
took their place.  His boy, his beautiful boy, abandoned by everyone.  But
he was tough ... working through it ... doing the job he loved for the man
he loved.  "That's my boy," Randy said to himself.  He tore his eyes from
the window and tried to work, but he couldn't help looking up ... and the
sight was unbearable.

Randy knew from the body language that the plucky young kid was pouring
every ounce of effort into the job, and he knew why.  He was trying to
prove himself, to redeem himself, trying to win Randy's love again.
`Love!'  Suddenly Randy's thoughts rang with Bob's voice ... that
beautiful, kind, glorious man who had rescued him and seemed to have a
solution for it all.  What was it he had said?  "Love ...there's your
answer ... the answer to everything.  When did you last tell Pablo you
loved him?  Then start, Randy.  Tell him ... show him."

Steve had said he should have no contact with the boy.  Well fuck that
noise!  What did his brother know anyway, him and his fancy doctor
certificates hanging on the wall?  So fuck Steve ... fuck them all.  This
was his boy, his son ... this was between the two of them.  He yanked open
the trailer door and spoke to Dave, an older guy who had worked for Randy
from way back.

"Hey Dave, do me a favor and tell Pablo to come in here."

"Sure thing, boss," Dave said, wondering why Randy didn't just holler the
way he always did.

Randy watched as Dave spoke to Pablo, who raised a startled head.  He
dropped his tools and walked with a nervous stoop toward the trailer
Randy's heart was beating fast as the boy came in and stood before him.  He
locked the door behind Pablo, then stood facing him.  Pablo's head was
hanging down, but soon he raised it and looked directly into his master's
eyes, ready to take whatever fate Randy was about to hand out.

Randy stared at his brave boy ... and didn't say a word.  Slowly his hand
went up to Pablo's shoulder and he brushed the strap off it.  It fell
dangling and the dungarees dropped round the boy's ankles.  As usual he
wore nothing underneath so when he stepped out of the dungarees he stood
naked except for his boots, his gaze still fixed on his master's steel blue
eyes.

There was a small bed in the corner that Randy sometimes used to sleep on
when he worked an all-nighter.  Now he pulled it out away from the wall,
the scraping noise loud in the silence of the room.  Randy glanced quickly
down at the bed and Pablo knew what to do.  He lowered himself onto the bed
and lay on his back, watching as Randy unbuttoned his pants and pulled out
his cock, already hard as a rock.

Pablo held his breath and he could actually hear his heart beating.
Calmly, silently, Randy knelt on the end of the bed, grabbed Pablo's boots
and pushed his legs in the air.  Still holding his boy's eyes in a hypnotic
gaze he eased forward and pushed his cock between the perfect globes of the
ass he loved so much.  Pablo stared up at his glorious master, at the slabs
of his chest bulging under the greasy tank-top, and felt the huge tool
slide into his ass.

There were tears in the eyes of both men as the construction boss slowly,
lovingly, eased his cock past the warm membrane of the young ass.  Randy
bent lower, pinned Pablo's wrists to the bed and penetrated his eyes with a
level gaze.  Tears began to flow down the boy's cheeks.  He didn't dare to
think what all this meant.  He just knew that his master was making love to
him, pure, simple love, and he was feeling the very manhood of his hero
filling his ass.

The intensity of the moment was so overwhelming that Pablo had no control.
He was drowning in the pale blue eyes and only dimly aware of the heat
rising up his legs, into his balls, and blasting from his cock in long
ribbons of cum that splashed over his chest.  Randy's eyes never wavered as
his own orgasm exploded deep inside his sad, sweet boy.  As their cocks
drained they remained still for a long time just gazing at each other
... no words nor any hint of a smile.

Finally Randy pulled out, stood up, and pushed his cock back inside his
pants.  Pablo got off the bed and pulled his dungarees over his boots.
Randy bent down and pulled them up to Pablo's waist.  But before pulling
them higher he stared at the cum still flowing down the boy's chest.  He
pressed two fingers against Pablo's stomach and ran them up over his chest,
scooping up the semen.

Staring into his boy's eyes he pushed the cum-soaked fingers into his own
mouth and swallowed hard, savoring the bitter-sweet taste of his boy's
juice.  Then he pulled the fingers out and drew them seductively across his
lips, licking off the last drops of precious liquid.

Only then did he pull the dungarees up over Pablo's chest and hook the
single strap back over his shoulder.  Randy walked to the door, unlocked
and opened it.  There were no words, no smiles, but as Pablo walked past
him Randy brushed the back of his hand lightly against the boy's cheek.
And then he was gone.  The whole incident had taken place without a word.

As Pablo walked back to the truck to resume his work old Dave smiled to
himself.  There was a spring in the boy's step, quite the opposite of his
stooped nervousness when he went in.  Obviously things had gone well at his
interview with the boss, and Dave was glad about that.

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

At Steve's house that evening Pablo said nothing of the incident.  It was
private, just between him and Randy.  In fact, he wasn't all that sure what
it meant.  He knew it wasn't forgiveness.  That wouldn't come so easily.
It certainly wasn't punishment either.  Nor was it at all typical of the
rough, unyielding construction boss.  Pablo smiled to himself as he
realized what it was.  It had to be love ... just that ... love, pure and
simple.  Randy still loved him ... he loved him!  He had never behaved
quite like that before ... It was more the kind of thing Bob would do.

Randy did not mention it to anyone either.  He just knew that he had done
what he had to for his boy to put things right between them.  Now Steve
would do his therapist thing, including some sort of punishment, he
supposed, and then, apparently, Darius would step in and do whatever he had
in mind for his lover and the boys.  Things were beginning to look up.

He didn't mention the incident even to Bob ... but he didn't have to.  Bob
knew every nuance of the big man's moods so well that he guessed Randy had
taken his advice and given some sign to his boy.

"Well done, buddy," Bob smiled as he undressed in their room that night.
As always he watched in awe as Randy pulled off his tank top and stood
stripped to the waist, in his greasy cargo pants and boots.

"Yeah, yeah," growled Randy, gazing at his gorgeous naked lover.  "Now
... about that wild gypsy thing..."

Bob grinned.  "You read my mind, sir."  And he sank slowly to his knees."

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

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" ... Chapter 145


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