Date: Tue, 9 Jul 2013 18:04:32 -0400 (EDT)
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 165  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 165
By Rob Williams

After a brutal fight at work Randy storms home to Bob.  "Bob loved the
sight of the savage demon towering over him in his mud-stained work pants,
his torn tank hanging on his chiseled torso, face bearing the scars of
battle."  But in his anger Randy bullies Eddy, Hassan's boy, and the Marine
takes revenge.  "Broken and humiliated the King of the Gypsies lay in
submission at the feet of the triumphant soldier."

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

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - Chapter 165 – "Randy – Trial, Error & Defeat"

The twins' job interview had gone well.  Jason had decided to give a big
party for all the guys and to have it catered.  Bob had suggested that the
twins could do the job and had sent them to see him to begin the planning.
His last words to them were, "Be bold.  Make me proud of you."

And they had taken Bob at his word.  Finding the gorgeous fireman asleep,
naked on the ground, they had tied him up and taken turns fucking him.
Now, as he lay spread-eagled, exhausted, his hands tied above him, he
grinned up at the beautiful twins.

"You are fucking awesome, guys.  Fucking awesome.  Man, that was a hell of
a job interview."

"Does that mean we get the job, sir?" Kevin asked.

Jason jerked against the ropes and grinned.  "Do I have any choice?"

"Not really, sir," they laughed.

As they knelt beside him untying the ropes Jason said.  "Now I gotta sleep
for a bit, while you go and check out my kitchen and make a list of
everything you need for the party.  And I want you to think about something
else.  See, it's not only the food.  I gotta put on some entertainment for
these guys.  They've all been so good to me so I want something really
special.  You guys seem to be real inventive, so you think you can come up
with something?"

"Absolutely, sir," they said together, their eyes shining.  "Actually,
we've been talking to the other boys ... kinda fantasizing ... you know
... and we already have some ideas that'll make your party one for the
record books ... or as Darius would said, "One for prosperity!"

One thing was for sure.  "Make me proud," Bob had said.  And the twins knew
they had.

Exhaustion now overwhelmed Jason.  After all, he had worked the night shift
on the fire truck, had come home and pushed himself hard in a grueling
workout, then had been tied up and serially ass-fucked by the twins.  That
was enough to exhaust any man, even one as tough as Jason, and the twins
gazed down in awe at the naked muscle-god, his face and body still covered
in semen.  They ran quickly into his bedroom, brought out a blanket and
spread it gently over him.

Before he drifted off to sleep he looked up at the beautiful naked twins
and couldn't believe that he felt his cock stirring under the blanket.
"Down, boy," he said softly to himself, or rather to his cock.  "Hey,
guys," he said sleepily.  "I wonder ...  you know we've a hell of a lot to
get through, planning the party and all.  Do you think Bob would let you
stay the night here?"

The boys' eyes sparkled.  "We can check with him, sir and let you know when
you wake up."

"Mmm," Jason sighed.  "You guys are the best."  And he was asleep.

It was Kevin who got to make the call, rather tentatively, knowing they
wouldn't be home to cook dinner.  But he needn't have worried.  He couldn't
see the smile spreading over Bob's face at the other end of the phone, but
he heard the pleasure in his voice.  "Guys, that's terrific.  I'm glad
everything's working out so well.  How did the job interview go?

Simple question, he thought, so he wasn't ready for the long, detailed
reply that gushed from the twins, each one grabbing the phone in turn to
talk.  Completely honest with Bob, as always, they described every detail
of the erotic events and were relieved to hear Bob laughing.  "Guys, when I
told you to be bold I had no idea ... but if you all three had a good time,
that's the main thing.  And Jason sure must have ... you got the job.  So
stay, of course, and enjoy your night with him.  Don't worry about a thing
here ... we'll manage.  Now, if I were you I would ..."  But he checked
himself.  "Nah, no more advice.  You guys have it all under control
... including the fireman, it seems."

He was still chuckling as he hung up the phone.  His plans were working.
First sending Eddie up to Hassan for a couple of days, with the result that
Eddie now seemed well on the way to becoming Hassan's boy.  Hassan had
filled Bob in over the phone and told him Eddie was thrilled at the
prospect.  And now the twins, spreading their wings and overnighting with
Jason.  True, it left the house a bit thin on the ground regarding meals
and housekeeping, but as he had said, they'd manage for once.  All in all a
pretty good day's work, he thought.

Bob allowed himself to preen.  "Hey, I'm pretty good at this," he murmured
with a satisfied grin.

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

But if the day was going well for Bob, the same could hardly be said for
his lover.  Randy had started the day in a bad mood, with some urgent
problems needing to be tackled at the construction site.  It was chaotic
today, with several projects demanding extra crew, and some of the projects
inevitably collided.

Randy had plenty of help, though.  Zack, his second-in-command, was there;
Darius too, Randy's assistant; and Pablo, the site mechanic.  But they were
keeping a respectful distance and Darius rolled his eyes at Pablo as the
boss barked his orders.  To make matters worse, Randy had a run-in with one
of the more belligerent guys on the crew, a big, rugged, muscle-bound stud
called Pete who harbored a resentment of Randy's authority and resisted his
orders.

The situation escalated throughout the day until finally, near the end of
the shift, Randy heard the guy cuss him behind his back.  He whirled on him
and poked him in the chest.  "Listen, asshole, if you don't like the way I
run this outfit the gate's right there, wide open, and you and your fucking
attitude are welcome to get the hell out.  Pete took this as a challenge
and swung his fist at Randy's face.  Randy blocked the punch but Pete's
other fist slammed into his stomach and dropped Randy to his knees.

In seconds the two were rolling over the ground, grappling, punching,
trading blow for blow.  The two muscular fighters were evenly matched and
work stopped as the whole crew stood back and watched.  As he saw his
master start to take a beating Pablo took a threatening step forward but
Zack put a restraining hand on his arm.  He knew there was only one way to
handle this.  Just let it play out.

Pete's anger was as hot as Randy's, and he soon had Randy on his back,
kneeling astride him and slamming the back of his fist across his face, one
side then the other.  He was taking a hell of a beating, but Randy was a
street fighter from way back, and nothing stoked his rage and fueled his
adrenaline like getting thrashed in a fight.  His eyes blazed in his wild,
dark gypsy face as he reached up and clamped his hands round Pete's throat
and squeezed hard.  Pablo saw a manic light in Randy's eyes that he
recognized, and he knew his hero would win.

Pete started to choke and his hands flew to Randy's wrists, trying
desperately to pull them apart.  With a howl like a battle cry Randy
tightened the chokehold, pushed Pete backward and heaved himself to his
knees.  Then, with superhuman strength, he stood up and, still gripping the
man's throat, he heaved him up high in the air, so Pete's feet dangled off
the ground in a vicious hanging chokehold.  His eyes bulging, suspended
helplessly from the neck, Pete gripped Randy's wrists desperately to ease
the strain on his throat.

There was a collective gasp from the crowd as Randy yelled, "Motherfucker!"
and in a spectacular move hurled Pete into the air, then clamped his arms
round his waist in a vise-like bear hug.  The hold was perfectly applied,
with Randy's wrists locked in the small of the man's back, his massive arms
squeezing his mid-section savagely.

Helpless in mid-air Pete's arms and legs thrashed wildly, but he knew there
was no escape as he felt the life being squeezed out of him.  "No!" he
screamed.  My back ... you're breaking my back.  Let go ...  Aaagh!  OK,
OK, you win ... I give up.  Please ... I submit...sir!"

Contemptuously Randy tossed the man away from him and Pete sprawled heavily
on his back on the ground groaning in pain.  "OK, asshole," Randy snarled,
"now you know who's boss around here.  Now, you're a good, strong worker
and I value that, but you have way too much fucking attitude.  So it's your
choice ... you can walk out of here and I'll pay you through today, or you
can stay and work with the rest of us.

Pete had fought and lost, beaten into submission, but as he stared up at
the rugged construction boss his resentment faded, replaced by a grudging
admiration for this incredible man who had thrashed him so soundly.  And he
knew he wanted to go on working for him.  "OK," he said, "I'll stay.
You're the boss, sir."

Randy leaned down, grabbed his wrist, pulled him to his feet and shook his
hand as a couple of guys came forward to support Pete.  "OK," Randy
shouted.  "Shift's over guys."  The crowd gazed in awe at the boss, bruised
and grazed, his tank top in shreds over his mud-covered chest, tousled
black hair falling over his face that gleamed with sweat.  He ran the back
of his hand over the trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth and
glanced quickly at his boy, Pablo.

Awestruck, Pablo bowed his head slightly in an almost imperceptible gesture
of hero worship and thought he saw a flicker of a smile pass over his
master's face.  Randy turned on his heel and strode out through the gate,
followed at a respectful distance by the rest of the crew.

Zack looked at Darius and Pablo, shook his head and said simply, "Wow!  OK,
boys, help me lock up here.  Show's over."

Except he was wrong about that.

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

The `show' still had a way to go before it played out.  Randy's legendary
anger, so quick to ignite, took a long time to burn out, as adrenaline
still coursed through his veins.  His eyes still blazed and he gripped the
steering wheel of his truck hard, cursing under his breath as he recalled
how nearly he had been beaten by the man.  "Motherfucker ... asshole
... thought he could whip me in front of my boy.  I'll show them all who's
fucking boss.  I'll show them.  Shit, I need to fuck ass.  And in his mind
he saw a vivid image of Bob, the gorgeous man he loved, the man he
worshipped, lying naked on the bed.

That was his focus ... it always was whenever he had done battle.  He
needed to fuck the ass of his spectacular lover.  He drove recklessly,
breaking all the laws on the books.  If a cop had pulled him over Randy
would undoubtedly have slugged him and wound up in jail.  But he arrived
home unscathed, leapt from the truck, strode to the house and up to his
bedroom.

"Fuck!"  Nobody there.  Somehow he had illogically assumed that Bob would
be there waiting for him, and his absence drove Randy's anger into a
towering rage.  Then the phone rang.  Fate had intervened with maliciously
bad timing.  Randy yanked up the phone and barked into it.  "What?!"  There
was a long pause and then a timid voice at the other end said, "Oh ... er,
is Bob there, sir?  It's me, Eddie."

"No he's fucking well not here.  And where the fuck are you?"

"Er, still at Hassan's, sir.  I was just calling Bob to make sure it's
still OK for me to stay the night up here.  Hassan did speak to Bob but I
just wanted..."

"No, it's not fucking OK!"  Randy was not even focusing on Eddie ... he was
simply venting his anger on the nearest victim.  "Get your ass back down
here pronto."

Eddie gulped in fear.  "But sir, Hassan wants me to stay.  I think he wants
me to be his boy ... and I think I love him."

Hassan!  That fucking Marine ... another image to stoke Randy's anger.
"Like hell you're gonna be his boy!  That's never gonna happen, kid, trust
me, not while I'm boss.  You're our fucking houseboy, get it?  You live
here, and I give the orders.  So forget your fucking daydreams about your
soldier-boy and get your ass back here now!"  And he slammed the phone
down.

"Yes, sir," Eddie said in a daze into the dead phone.  What was happening?
Why had Randy yelled at him?  Was he being fired?  If only Hassan had been
here, but he had gone to pick up take-out food for dinner while Eddie
tidied the house.  Eddie was running on panic now, not thinking straight.
All he knew was that Randy's word was law in that house... and he wasn't
going to let Eddie be Hassan's boy.  He had ordered him to go back.
Eddie's eyes filled with tears as he scrambled up the path to his truck.

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

Randy had forgotten all about Eddie the minute he slammed the phone down.
He was pacing the room like a caged tiger when suddenly Bob came in.
"Jesus Christ," Bob said, staring at the wild-eyed man, face and body
covered in scratches and bruises, pants covered in mud, tank hanging torn
on his dirt-streaked chest.  "You've been in a fight," he said, stating the
obvious.  "Are you OK?"

Randy gazed with relief at the only man who could help him.  His words were
part order, part plea as he said, "Get on the bed, man."  Bob had only
recently come from work and was still in his business suit, so it took him
a while to undress.  He deliberately did a slow, sensual strip, partly to
turn Randy on and partly to give time for his anger to turn off, or at
least diminish.

Bob was familiar with this ritual.  Whenever Randy's anger was stoked by
something at work, especially when he had been in a fight, he came roaring
home hotter than a pistol and needed to slam fuck Bob.  Bob had no doubt
Randy had won the fight ... he always did ... but by the look of him he had
taken a beating in the process, making it even more urgent for him to prove
his manhood.  Bob was a big, muscular alpha male and reaming his ass was
Randy's way of reasserting his authority.  He often said he "owned" Bob's
ass.  Bob knew he didn't really mean that, but saying it helped him
overcome whatever insecurities he had.  Even the King of the Gypsies had
insecurities.

"Come on, man," Randy growled, pacing the room.  "I need you fucking
naked."  By now Bob was stripped to the waist.  He kicked off his loafers,
dropped his dress pants and lay on his back on the bed, naked except for
his white boxers.  Randy gazed down at the stunning, dark-haired muscle-god
and all his tension, all his anger coalesced into rampant lust for his
gorgeous lover.  "Man, that is fucking beautiful ... and it belongs to me."
He wiped the back of his hand against the corner of his mouth to get the
last of the dried blood.

Bob knew what was coming ... and was fired up with anticipation.  He loved
Randy like this ... raw, primitive, like the rugged, sweaty construction
worker he had first met that long-ago day in the dingy bar.  The savage
gypsy towered over him, face marked with the scars of battle, in his
mud-stained work pants, boots, his torn tank hanging on his chiseled torso.
Randy's breath heaved, his eyes blazed.  He ripped open his pants and
pulled out his huge, thick cock.

Nursing his cock in one hand he bent down and used the other hand to grab
Bob's shorts and rip them clean off.  "Oh, man," he growled.  "I need to
fuck.  I need to fuck real bad."  He grabbed Bob's legs, threw them in the
air, and from a standing position fell against his ass, driving his piston
ferociously into the depths of his ass.  Bob screamed and pressed his hands
against Randy's chest in a futile attempt to push him back.  But he knew
Randy was in full control ... and loved it."

The pounding was savage but Randy's blue eyes bored into his and Bob was so
mesmerized by his powerful, magnetic sexuality that he felt no pain, only
the insistent pile driver in his ass.  He was amazed to see Randy smiling
down at him as he fucked.  "Oh, man, you are so right for me.  You are so
fucking gorgeous, such a stud ... when I fuck you nothing else matters
... I feel like the king of the world.  You want this, don't you, man?  You
need me to fuck you.  You love me, don't you?  Tell me, man ... I need to
hear it."

Through his heaving breaths Bob groaned, "You know I do, man.  I love
getting my ass ploughed by that huge rod ...  You are so damn hot."  His
voice rose to a shout.  "I love you, man.  Fuck me ... harder, man.  Make
me shoot my load."

"You got it, stud."  Randy fell forward and clamped his big rough hands
over the mounds of Bob's pecs.  Bob still pushed against Randy's chest and
that's how they gazed at each other, that's how they saw themselves
reflected in each other's eyes, that's how they passed over the barrier
from reality to their own private world of infinite passion.  Randy still
pounded Bob's ass but his voice was softer now.  "Here it comes, buddy.
Let me see you shoot ... I'm cumming, man.  Now...!"

Two shouts echoed round the room, two muscular bodies jolted, and Bob was
suddenly bathed in semen ... Randy's deep in his ass and his own splashing
over his heaving chest, his face and hair.  Randy fell forward onto the
cum-slicked body and pressed his mouth against his lover's, kissing him
ravenously as they rolled together over the bed, locked in each other's
arms.

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

Meanwhile, another drama was unfolding as Eddie drove his little truck
blindly down the hill, his eyes filled with tears.  All he knew was that
the boss was angry and had ordered him to come home.  But worse, he
couldn't be Hassan's boy.  Just as he pulled up at the gate his cell phone
rang.  "Hey, kiddo," came the cheerful voice.  "Where are you?  When I got
back your truck had gone."

Eddie's spirits lifted at the sound of Hassan's voice but his reply was
panicked, disjointed.  "I had to come back to the house, sir ... Randy
ordered me home `cause I'm the houseboy... I can't stay with you ... and
... and Randy said I can't be your boy, sir...it was just a daydream, he
said, and I had to forget it."

There was a silence as Hassan took a deep breath and fought to control his
anger.  When he spoke his voice was calm.  "Eddie, listen to me.  Do you
want to be my boy?"

"More than anything in the world, sir."

"Then you are, kiddo.  I want you for my boy ... so you are."

"But ..."

"There are no `buts', kiddo.  You are my boy and I'm gonna take care of
you.  Now listen carefully, go straight into the kitchen and stay there
`til I come for you.  And don't talk to anyone.  You got that?"

"Yes, sir ... thank you, sir."  Eddie put down the phone and his spirits
soared.

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

Bob had finally disentangled himself from Randy and they had got off the
bed.  Bob held Randy at arm's length and chuckled.  "You are one hell of a
sight, man.  Cuts, bruises, your tank top in shreds, pants covered in mud.
Must have been a hell of a fight."

"Yeah," Randy grinned, "but you should see the other guy."  Randy threw his
arms round him and Bob pressed his cheek against his lover's, staring
happily out of the window over his shoulder.  But suddenly he frowned as he
saw the gate open and Eddie ran in, obviously distressed, and went straight
toward the kitchen.

Bob broke away from Randy and went to the window.  "What the hell was that?
Eddie's home, but he's supposed to be up there with... he didn't phone or
anything, did he?"

"What?  Oh yeah, that."  Randy had forgotten all about it.  "Yeah, he
called from Hassan's ... said he was gonna stay the night up there.  Like
hell he was.  I reminded him he's our fucking houseboy ... told the kid to
get his ass back down here at the double.  Some cockamamie bullshit about
being the soldier's boy.  Yeah right, I told him, like that's ever gonna
happen.  Not in my lifetime.  Told him to quit dreaming and get back here
where he belongs."

Bob whirled round from the window, his eyes blazing.  The harmony in the
room was shattered.  "You did what?!"  Bob ran his hand through his hair
and paced the room in disbelief.

"Man, you can be such a cretin sometimes.  I set that whole thing up and it
was working.  I sent Eddie up there for two days hoping the two of them
would hit it off and apparently they did ... big time.  The young kid was
over the moon ... and then you come along like a fucking rogue elephant and
trample on his dreams.  Man, I love you, for my sins, but when that anger
of yours takes over you can be a real fucking monster."

"Shit man, I was angry after the fight, all juiced up, and when you weren't
here I kinda went crazy.  The phone rang and it was the kid, so I just let
him have it, I guess."

Bob sneered in contempt.  "You just let him have it ... that shy young kid
who we all try to protect ... you just let him have it.  The most junior
boy in the house and you just shattered his dream of a lifetime.  Well, way
to go boss man, I'm real proud of you.  Do you have any idea how that poor
kid feels right now?  There's nothing I hate more than a fucking bully,
picking on helpless kids.  Listen, do me a favor and stick to men your own
size in future, like that guy you beat up."

Bob's tongue lashing had an instant effect.  The big construction boss who
had roared in like a wild mustang after winning the fight now crumpled as
he sat on the bed and buried his head in his hands.  He was like a drunk
sobering up after a bender and remembering the crazy things he had done.
"Oh, shit," he moaned, "I am such a fucking asshole ... I didn't mean any
of that shit ... I was out of my mind.  Hell, that poor kid."  He looked up
at Bob.  "I love the kid, buddy.  He looks up to me ... hell, I once told
him if he was ever in trouble he could always count on me."  He leapt to
his feet.  "I gotta go talk to him."

But he didn't get far.

The door crashed open, Hassan strode into the room, walked straight up to
Randy and smashed the back of his fist across his face.  Randy fell back on
the bed stunned, gazing up at the muscular Marine towering over him,
formidable in his khaki tank top, military fatigues and boots.  His
handsome face was wild with anger.  "You asshole mother-fucker!  You know
what you've done, you prick?  That sweet kid, that plucky, hopeful, excited
young kid ... you just crushed him, man, pulling the big boss act and
scaring the life out of him."

He held his arms out to the side, flexed his muscles and growled, "Get a
good look at this, man.  This is Eddie's master and Eddie's my boy."  He
yelled.  "He's my boy, and I'll break any man who hurts him ... anyone
... asshole boss, King of the Fucking Gypsies ... whoever.  Shit, man, it
was you made the rule ... no one interferes between a man and his boy."

His anger building, the solider jabbed his finger down at the stunned
construction worker.  "Look at you ... the big hot stud, the big boss who
beats up guys and tramples all over defenseless boys.  You know what you
need, you son-of-a-bitch?  You need some guy as tough as you to cut you
down to size.  You need to get your sorry ass reamed.  By this ..."  He
ripped open his pants and pulled out his huge, stiff cock.

Randy's instinct was always to fight back ... but not now.  He was feeling
huge guilt about how he had treated the boy and knew that he had to be
punished by the boy's master.  That was the way it had to be.  He would
have done the same if anyone hurt Pablo.  So he stretched out his arms on
the bed in a gesture of submission.

Bob knew that too.  He knew that the only way for Randy to regain his
self-respect was to prove his remorse in a humiliating act of submission.
Bob also knew better than to intervene in this master versus master grudge
match.  So he pulled on his boxer shorts, stood back, arms folded across
his chest and watched.

Hassan stared down at Randy in contempt.  "You son-of-a-bitch," he snarled.
He reached forward, ripped open Randy's cargo pants and yanked them down
below his knees.  He grabbed the heels of his work boots and pushed his
legs in the air, exposing his naked ass.  His eyes pierced Randy's like
lasers as he growled, "This is for Eddie!"  He lunged forward onto the bed,
pile-driving his iron shaft savagely into the fiery depths of Randy's ass.

The dark, rugged face flew back and the mouth opened in a soundless scream.
Instinctively Randy was determined to endure the brutal punishment in
silence, but his body spasmed and tears spurted from his eyes.  Hassan
paused, then pulled slowly all the way back, tormenting Randy with
suspense, paused again, then slammed his cock back into the helpless ass.

And this is how the torment began, slowly, inexorably.  Each time the rod
pulled out of him and paused Randy held his breath, staring into Hassan's
eyes, and waited for the next ferocious spike to drive into his ass.  Still
he suffered in silence, but Hassan was not silent as he speeded up the
attack.  "Not such a big shot now, eh, stud?  The big bully finally gets
his ass hammered.  OK, stud, let's turn up the heat."

And he did.  No more words, no more pauses ... Hassan's hips pistoned
faster and faster, driving his rod brutally, deep into the man's gut.
Randy's agonized face contorted in pain, his head thrashing from side to
side, his muscles flexed against the onslaught.  Shocked by the Marine's
savagery Bob took a step forward but stopped as, even in his pain, Randy
turned his head and flashed a look at him.  And Bob understood.

As guilty as Randy felt about Hassan and Eddie, the worse pain by far was
that he had lost the respect of the man he worshipped.  And by silently,
stoically enduring this torture while Bob watched, he was trying to regain
that respect.  This was his penance, but while Hassan was the instrument of
that penance, Bob was the real target of Randy's remorse.  So Bob let the
punishment run its course.  In fact, as he watched, he could hardly believe
that his cock was stirring in his shorts.

Whatever else it was, whatever passions it involved, the sight was
incredibly erotic as the muscle-stud Marine jackhammered the ass of the
rugged construction worker.  Without breaking eye contact Hassan reached
forward, clamped his hands on Randy's chest and squeezed his nipples,
twisting them brutally in his fingers.  Flinching at the added pain Randy
reached up and clawed at Hassan's chest, grabbing his khaki tank in both
fists.

At first Bob thought he was trying to push the Marine away to lessen the
pain.  But then he realized with amazement that Randy was not pushing, but
pulling Hassan toward him by his bunched-up tank, urging him on to fuck
harder, to pound his ass in the retribution he deserved.  The pain in his
ass and his tits was excruciating but he wanted more, needed more, to prove
his remorse to Bob.

It was a supreme irony.  When Randy had first stormed into the room his
need was to prove his manhood to himself by reaming Bob's ass.  Now he
needed to prove to Bob that he was a real man by enduring the humiliation
of having his own ass brutally fucked.  He had to be broken by another
master, equal to him in strength and beauty.

As Randy yanked at Hassan's tank it ripped away from his chest and hung
from his shoulders, but neither man was aware of it as the soldier pounded
relentlessly, torturing the construction boss's ass and chest.  But now
Hassan's rage was tinged with admiration for the stoic endurance of the
ravaged man.  "OK, man," he gasped breathlessly.  "You're tough ... I know
you can take all the pain I can dish out.  But what I want is an apology
for me and my boy ... and I want more than words ... I want you to show it.
I want to see the ultimate act of surrender to me and my boy.  And man, I'm
gonna pile-drive that ass until you submit.

He yanked his hands off Randy's tits and fell forward, pinning his wrists
to the bed above his head.  Their eyes locked and Hassan said, "Here it
comes, man."  The Marine piled every ounce of his strength into the savage
fuck, his hips slamming forward mercilessly, driving his steel rod ever
deeper into Randy's shattered ass.

And finally Randy let go, opening his mouth in a piercing scream that
echoed round the room.  Tears streamed from his eyes, his massive body
bucked and heaved, muscles rippling and pouring with sweat.  At last the
beaten construction worker howled, "OK, man ... you win ... I can't take
any more ... please, you're ripping me open ... I'm begging you ... aaagh
... my ass! ... OK, I submit, I give up ... I apologize ... I submit to
you, sir... aaagh...!"  His body convulsed, his head flew back and his cock
exploded in a massive stream of hot juice that splashed down on his chest,
his agonized face and into his tousled black hair.

Hassan howled in triumph as he drove his cock deep one last time and
blasted his cum into the tortured asshole that had taken such a savage
pounding.  When his cock had drained Hassan pulled it out, leapt to his
feet and gazed down at the incredible sight.  The dark demon muscle-god lay
beaten and humiliated on the bed, his shirt hanging in shreds, pants
crumpled round his boots, his stubbled face and muscular body scratched and
bruised, smothered in dirt, sweat and semen.  He had been tortured,
brutally fucked in the ass, had begged the soldier for mercy and screamed
in defeat and abject submission to the dominant Marine.  It was total
degradation.

The King of the Gypsies had been broken.  And whatever battles he fought in
the future, he would never again abuse his power over a defenseless boy.

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

Bob was proud of his lover.  Through pain and humiliation he had
acknowledged his guilt and demonstrated his remorse.  But Bob knew better
than to go to him.  At such moments Randy needed a little time and space to
re-gather his strength and reassume his role as boss.  Instead, Bob found
himself shaking the hand that Hassan had offered him.  "You know I had to
do that, buddy," Hassan said.  "No hard feelings on your part, I hope."

Bob smiled.  "I know Randy well enough to know that he would have done just
the same to any man who hurt Pablo.  And I know that he'll respect you for
what you did.  Here, come and clean off in the bathroom and let me find you
a T-shirt.  Randy kind of shredded yours."

While they chatted quietly for a while in the bathroom, restoring the
harmony that usually existed between them, Randy was pulling himself
together.  He always recovered quickly from a beating and now, as he eased
himself painfully off the bed and pulled up his pants, he had one objective
in mind ... something he absolutely had to do.  Quietly he left the
bedroom.

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

In the kitchen Eddie was talking quietly to Nate, trying to explain
everything that had happened.  He was nervous about Nate's reaction as Nate
had, after all, been Hassan's boy when Adam was out of town.  But he
needn't have worried.  Nate was still riding on Cloud 9 over the prospect
of living with Adam as his boy now that Adam was moving permanently to Los
Angeles, and he was thrilled that Hassan had chosen Eddie to take his
place.  Even in his euphoria he had felt some concern about Hassan, as if
he were deserting him for Adam, so everything seemed to be working out
fine.

Well, not quite everything.  There was still the problem of ...  At that
moment the door crashed open and a wild man stood there, the big muscular
boss, still bearing the marks of a fight, his shirt hanging off him in
shreds, body heaving with ragged breaths, eyes gleaming.  Eddie gasped and
shrank back against the wall, trying to hide behind Nate.  After the savage
way Randy had spoken to him earlier the boy was terrified.

So he was amazed when Randy stretched out his arms and said gently, "Come
here, Eddie."  Afraid as he was, Eddie would not dare defy the boss and he
walked forward nervously, to find himself folded in the muscular arms in a
warm embrace.  Randy cradled him gently in his arms and whispered in his
ear.  "Hey, kiddo, all that stuff I said to you earlier ... it was all
crazy talk, total bullshit ... I must've been off my head, in a rage at
someone else.  I love you, boy, you're a great kid and I'm sorry I hurt
you."

He pulled back and gazed into Eddie's eyes.  "Yeah, you'll do fine as
Hassan's boy.  He couldn't have chosen anyone better.  And I hope that in
time you'll both come to look on me as your friend.  You think that might
happen?"

Eddie stared in surprise at the pale blue eyes smiling into his and said
shyly, "I do, sir.  Thank you, sir."  He fell against his chest and once
again felt Randy's arms close round him.  Neither one was aware of Bob and
Hassan standing in the doorway.  Alarmed at finding Randy gone they had run
down to the kitchen, but they pulled up short as they saw Randy hugging the
boy.

It was nothing short of amazing.  The big rugged boss, who so far today had
thrashed a man in a brutal fight, then vented his anger by fucking Bob's
ass, and finally been crushed by the angry Marine, who had reamed his ass,
broken him and made him submit ... this was the same man who was now
cradling Eddie gently in his arms, like a wild animal nurturing its cub.

Hassan cleared his throat and Randy turned round.  After an awkward silence
Hassan stretched out his hand and Randy grasped it firmly.  Their eyes met
for long seconds and then Randy said simply.  "Thanks, man.  He's a great
kid.  Be proud of him."

"I am," said Hassan.  He broke away and took Eddie into a warm hug.  Bob
looked at Randy, smiled and shook his head.  "Incredible," he said.  "You
are so fucking awesome, man."

"Are we OK?" Randy asked anxiously.

"Better than ever, stud.  And I'll try to prove that later ... maybe after
you've cleaned up, though."  He turned to the others.  "Hey, soldier,
before you whisk Eddie back to your lair, why don't the two of you stay to
dinner?"  Hassan gave him a smile of acceptance.  "Even though," Bob
continued, "we don't have anyone to cook it.  The twins are spending the
night with Jason."

"Oh no problem there, sir," said Nate, suddenly stepping forward.  He
thickened his Australian accent and grinned widely.  "No worries at all,
mate.  You've got two Aussies right here.  So Adam and me ... we'll just
throw a bunch of shrimps on the barbie."

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

So barbecue it was.  Adam and Nate cleaned off the brick barbecue that
Randy had built long ago, the same one where the twins had once used too
much lighter fuel and started a fire, summoning the fire-brigade.  One of
the fire crew had been the spectacular, blond calendar hunk, Jason.  One
thing led to another and at this very moment they were at his house,
planning his big party and spending the night there, taking care of his
non-party needs too.

Adam and Nate worked with the expert barbecue skills that all Aussies seem
to be born with.  Their enthusiasm was heightened by simply being together,
knowing that this was the first of many meals they would cook together as
master and boy.  Actually, the meal turned out to be a double celebration,
marking the union not only of Adam and Nate, but Hassan and Eddie too.

All the men of the house were gathered, except the twins, of course.  Eddie
and Jamie were setting the table by the pool and bringing out salads and
drinks while Adam and Nate worked the barbecue.  Bob, Mark and Hassan were
huddled together, trying to restore normalcy to the house after the
dramatic events of the day.  Zack and Darius had just arrived from across
the street and Pablo had cornered Randy, who was now looking less like a
wild man, having showered and put on clean jeans and a white T-shirt,
insisted on by Bob.

Pablo was still gazing in awe at his master.  "You were awesome in that
fight, sir.  You really kicked ass, showed the guy who was boss."

"Yeah, but he's a hell of a fighter.  And you saw the mistake I made at the
start."

"Yes, sir.  When you blocked his right hook you let him get under your
guard, slam your stomach with his left and drop you.  He had you on the
ground for a while but I knew you'd beat him.  That hanging chokehold was
awesome.  You can beat anyone... I want to be just like you, sir."

"No you don't, kid.  Sure, I took care of that guy, but then I lost my cool
entirely, let my anger rule me, and I demolished that shy young kid Eddie,
verbally at least.  I paid the price for that and I'm glad I did.
Remember, kid, do what you like with guys your own size but never be a
bully.  Boys have to be protected.  Remember that kiddo, `cause one day
soon I hope you'll have a boy of your own."  Pablo looked at him in
surprise .... that was a whole new concept.

By now the tempo was heating up and Adam and Nate were proudly putting food
on the table.  "There you go, mates," said Adam.  "Barbecue, Aussie style.
First of many, I hope."  Soon the meal was in full swing and the
conversation had split into two groups, men and boys.

The boys were corralled by Darius who had the distinct feeling he had been
left out of the loop on the Eddie/Hassan story and was eager to catch up
... making Eddie keep his promise of "spilling all the beans."  He kept
pumping the boy for more and more details, knowing that this story, at
least, had no need of exaggeration.

In the men's group Randy, having purged his demons, was quickly assuming
his role of boss again, anxious to prove to Bob that he had reformed and
would be a benign leader from now on.  He was bending over backwards to be
helpful and creative, especially when the topic turned to Adam and where he
would live.  He glanced at Bob, then said, "Now listen, guys, Bob and I
have been talking about the house next door.  The old lady's leaving to
live with her sister and putting the house up for sale.  We've been toying
with the idea of buying it as income property.


He was hitting his stride.  "But here's the deal: this tribe of ours is
pretty much bursting at the seams, what with Eddie shacking up with the
twins and now Adam."  He grinned.  "We wanna keep the Aussie close so he
doesn't take Nate away from us.  Don't wanna lose that boy.  So here's my
plan.  We buy the house and offer it to you, Adam, for rent.  You'll live
there with Nate, of course, and that leaves Nate's current room for Eddie.
That would put him next door to Darius and Pablo who can keep an eye on him
when he's not at Hassan's place.

"Now, the old lady ran the place into the ground and it needs a shit-load
of work, but nothing we can't handle, eh Zack?  We can fix it up in no time
and Adam can help.  As I recall you're pretty impressive when it comes to
construction, buddy."  Zack grinned at Adam, recalling how last time they
worked on a construction project together it turned into a macho trial of
strength between the two of them, ending in Adam getting tied up and
whipped by the leatherman.

"So how about it guys?"  Randy sat back with a self-satisfied smile and a
trace of arrogance.  In the general chorus of admiration and approval Bob
looked at Randy and smiled.

`The boss is back,' he thought.

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

So the dust of the day had settled and the wheels were set in motion.  Adam
was to spend the next few weeks here for management orientation with his
airline before going back briefly to Sydney to settle his affairs and then
move back here for good.  He shared Nate's room, of course, while Eddie
spent much of his time blissfully with Hassan.  Mark and Jamie were content
to let all this wash over them, happy with each other and their routine of
the blond surfer waiting naked every evening to get fucked by his uniformed
cop.  Darius joked that the boys were all living in the lap of the gods,
and they agreed that was pretty close to the truth.

There was a ton of work to be done and they took it all on with energy.
But after a week or so Randy declared a break as they were all in the mood
for a party.  And they got one.  Ever since the twins' two days with Jason,
where they mixed work with pleasure ... and sex ... they had been busy with
party preparations.  They liked and admired the gorgeous fireman and worked
hard to make his party a success.  The crowd of men and boys would all need
to be well fed and entertained.

So they spent a lot of time at Jason's house, doing whatever food prep they
could do in advance, and gathering supplies and drinks.  Randy and Zack
brought tables from the house and construction site that the twins planned
to arrange in the garden with linen cloths over them.  The twins even
press-ganged the other boys into spending an afternoon tidying up the
garden, which Jason had let run riot.  Nate and Eddie eagerly accepted
their roles as cater-waiters and when the big day came everything was
ready.

Everyone was there ... all the guys from the house, of course, including
Adam, then Steve and Lloyd, and Billy, of course, Pablo's dog who was
making his rambunctious presence felt.  Jason, the genial host, greeted the
men and boys as they arrived in high spirits and whooped and hollered when
they saw the twins and the waiters.  The twins were wearing white sneakers,
white shorts and that's all, except for plain white aprons that only
partially covered their finely sculpted chests.  Nate and Eddie were
similarly dressed in white shorts, but instead of aprons they were
shirtless except for small white collars round their necks with black bow
ties.

"Awesome, dudes," Darius said as he appraised them.  "Hey, do the guests
get to fuck the help at this party?"  Zack clipped him lightly round the
head, but he and the other men were seriously impressed by the sight of the
four young guys.  "Hey," Mark said.  "Bob, Adam, Hassan, you better keep a
close eye on your boys there.  They look so damn cute they'll be getting
offers to go live and work with the rich and famous."

"And turn their backs on the hot and horny?" Bob said in mock surprise.  "I
don't think so, eh guys?"  He winked at the twins as they blushed and ran
off to the kitchen to start bringing out the food.  Randy caught Bob's
admiring gaze as he watched them go.  "I'm so proud of them," Bob said,
"and the way things have turned out.  They've really taken control of this
event, really come into their own.  They're growing up."

"Yeah," Randy chuckled, "well apparently you ain't seen nothing yet,
according to the rumors Darius has been spreading.  Like I always say, that
kid has a mouth like a megaphone."

The meal was a huge success, with the twins laboring mightily in the
kitchen, keeping everything in rhythm like orchestra conductors, while Nate
and Eddie ran back and forth with food and drinks, good-naturedly dodging
the groping, wolf–whistles and bawdy comments of the rambunctious group.
Billy was getting under their feet as he ran around excitedly, keeping his
eye on Pablo for scraps from the table.  "Hey," Randy called out to the
boys when all the food was served.  "Come and join us.  We're not too proud
to sit with the help ... especially when the help's as hot as you guys."

The twins came and sat next to Bob and Randy, and Bob's eyes shone as he
said, "You're doing a terrific job, guys.  I'm real impressed and proud of
you."  Nate sat with Adam of course, who whispered to him, "Hey, mate,
later tonight I want you to wear that collar and tie when I fuck you, OK?
I've fucked plenty of waiters in my time but never any as hot as you look
right now."  And Eddie sat proudly next to Hassan, basking in the glow of
his new master's affection.

Near the end of the meal Randy stood up and raised his glass.  "Gentlemen,
I propose a toast ... to our new couples of masters and boys ... Adam and
Nate who'll be living next door, and to Hassan and Eddie who will be
... hell, I leave it to your imagination what they'll be doing.  You'll be
great together, guys ...but remember, if you ever get angry with each other
you can always count on me to referee.  As you know, anger management is a
specialty of mine."

There were howls of laughter and derision, then loud applause as Randy sat
down and clamped his mouth over Bob's in a long, lingering kiss.

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

It was when the meal was over that the party swung into high gear.  And the
roles of the twins changed from orchestra leader in the kitchen to ring
master as they stood up and faced the audience, which was by now well
lubricated with liquor.  The twins raised their hands for silence and when
they spoke they traded off, Kyle speaking one sentence, then Kevin the
next.  It was a perfect double act.

"Gentlemen," Kyle began, "Jason has entrusted us with today's
entertainment."  A smattering of applause, then Kevin took over.  "We and
the other boys have been talking."  There was a collective groan from the
masters.  They knew of old that that statement always spelled trouble.

"We are all a bit frustrated that we are the one's always to get fucked
... some would even say `fucked over'."  ("No way ... shame!" came the
lusty objections from the men.)  "So, we decided that today would be a
great opportunity to turn the tables ... that's if our masters are men
enough to take it."  (More raucous protests from the men.)  "This means,"
Kyle said over their ribald shouts, "that the boys are in charge ... but
there will be audience participation.  To demonstrate, we are now gonna
turn it over to the man who likes to call himself senior boy.  Please,
gentlemen, give it up for ... Pablo!"

As they withdrew to the side Pablo bounced up before the audience and
bowed, reveling in his turn in the spotlight.  He raised his hand to quell
the burst of applause and whistles and said.  "Now the twins are running
this show, but they have given each boy his choice of master.  Not much
doubt who mine will be ... my dad and sparring partner."

"You watch your lip, boy," Randy laughed.

"Now, when most of you guys fuck you probably take it nice and easy.  But
me and Randy ... we never do anything nice and easy."  He smiled as he
growled, "We like to do it ....nice... and rough!"  Big cheers from the
spectators.  "So I'm gonna ask my master to follow my lead."  He walked
forward, grabbed Randy's hand and pulled him out front.

"This better be good, kid," Randy grinned.

"Oh, it will be, sir, if you do as I say."  Pablo pulled off his shirt and
Randy, facing him, did the same, all accompanied by drunken cheers from the
group and enthusiastic barking from Billy.  Then Pablo kicked off his
sneakers, dropped his shorts and stood naked except for his white boxers.
Rand gave a resigned shrug, kicked off his boots and dropped his jeans.  He
also (thanks to Bob) was wearing white boxers, and now master and boy stood
facing each other.

"Sir," Pablo said, "I learned this from you when I saw you challenge a guy
once.  Both guys wrestle, ripping at each other's shorts, and whoever winds
up naked first is the loser and... guess what ... gets his ass fucked by
the other."

Randy grinned and visibly relaxed.  "You sure about this boy?  This is me
you're talking to.  OK, you're in charge.  Just be prepared to get that
sweet ass of yours jackhammered."

"Just as you say, sir," Pablo grinned.  They began to circle each other,
wrestlers looking for an opening.  The crowd went wild, not least Billy,
caught up in the excitement, barking frantic encouragement as he ran round
and between them.  He was, as always, just being protective of Pablo.  The
boy and his dog could read each other's minds ... they made a great team.

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

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 166


Hey guys, this is Rob Williams.  I hope that chapter got you off, and I
welcome your comments and suggestions, which can be very helpful in
planning future chapters.  E-mail me in confidence at rw6789@aol.com.  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