Date: Thu, 14 Nov 2013 01:31:56 -0500 (EST)
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 181  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 181
By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER:
  Randy picks a fight with Jason, and one of them gets thrashed.  "The
muscle-god lay hogtied in the dirt, broken and humiliated, his rival
towering over him."  Later, Dr. Steve's therapy session with Randy gets
wild. "Look in the mirror, bro, two gorgeous bodybuilders, one ploughing
the other."  Finally Jason invites Ben to dinner.  "The boy was nervous,
not knowing what to expect.  He gasped as the fireman strode toward him."

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

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH Chapter 181 – "Jason – In War and In Love"


Everything had been going so well.  Up at the lake in the Angelus Forest
Randy had become closer than ever to Bob, the man he worshipped. Bob had
taken control and proved his love and forgiveness through passionate sex.

Then Randy's kid brother Ben had, literally, fallen out of a tree at their
feet.  By now Ben looked upon Bob as an honorary second big brother, and
Bob and Randy sealed the deal by double teaming the boy's ass.  After Ben
had triumphantly ridden both their cocks together, Randy laughed, "Not
every day that a boy gets his ass fucked by both his big brothers at once,
eh kiddo?"  The small family that Randy took such pride in had never been
closer.

But a few days later everything fell disastrously apart.  Ben's obsession
with the gorgeous fireman, Jason, had not abated, despite Randy's adamant
opposition.  Randy caught the boy jacking off, gazing at the calendar
picture of the shirtless fireman and, in his fantasy, making love to him.
Randy's notorious anger erupted into violence.  He slammed his hand across
the boy's face and, when Bob came to the rescue, Randy hurled him savagely
against the wall.

In confusion Randy dropped to his knees by the bed and threw his arms round
both injured men, kissing their faces.  "Ben, Ben, I didn't mean that.
Forgive me, little brother."  He looked helplessly at Bob.  "I just got so
mad all of a sudden.  I didn't mean to ...  Man, I swore to you in the
forest `never again' and now here ... Bob, please, what I said in the
forest ... that was real ... this is not real, buddy."

"Looked pretty damn real to me," Bob said coldly.  "I don't care for myself
... I've felt your anger before.  But Ben!  Your kid brother!  You hit your
kid brother, Randy!"  They stared at each, with panic in Randy's eyes,
sadness in Bob's.

Zack intervened and said, "Here, Bob, help me get Ben across the street to
my place."  Ben let himself be helped up by Zack and Bob, and he left the
room with them without looking at Randy.  Bob did glance at Randy but
didn't trust himself to say anymore.  Best leave him on his own for a while
to cool down, he thought.

So Randy was left alone, sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his
knees, his face buried in his hands.  His mind was still reeling – "what
a fucking mess."  After everything he had said to Bob, the man he loved –
"never again, buddy" – he had sworn it.  And Ben, the kid brother he had
found again, loved, and sworn to protect.  Things had been so great between
them in the forest – so much love.  But now the memory he had of the
proud, happy young kid up there had been replaced by the gut-wrenching
image of the boy cowering on the bed, cheek swollen, scared to death of his
big brother How had everything gone so wrong so soon?

So much for family ... he had sure busted that up.  His fucking anger!
Sure he was angry, but he had taken it out on the wrong guys.  He took a
few deep breaths.  Got to get it together ... got to focus.  His anger was
all out of whack ... got to focus it on one thing, on the real problem, and
take care of it once and for all.

And then he had it ... suddenly it all fell into place.  Ben wasn't the
problem, nor Bob, god knows.  Nor was he himself when it came down to it.
No, Randy knew where the problem lay.  He stood up, left the room, strode
across the garden, through the gate and leapt into his truck.

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

Jason was alone in his house, working out on his patio gym, stripped down
to his usual thin, ragged gym shorts.  He was surprised to hear car tires
crunching on the gravel outside and a door slam.  He dropped to the ground
from his chin bar and waited.  The gate flew open and there stood Randy,
shirtless in jeans and boots.

Jason smiled welcomingly.  "Hey, big guy.  This is a surprise.  What can I
do for you?"

Randy yelled across the garden.  "You can keep your hands off my little
brother!"

Jason sighed, approached Randy and spoke calmly.  "So that's what this is
all about.  Randy, you may have noticed that I have been keeping my
distance from your house for this exact reason.  You have this crazy hair
up your ass about me taking your brother away from you.  Oh, and you'll
notice I didn't say little brother.  In case you hadn't noticed, Ben has
grown up.  He's nineteen, over the age of consent.  So if it's all the same
to you, I'll wait and see what he consents to ... not you."

Randy tensed and clenched his fists but the muscular fireman was not
intimidated by the `big boss' who right now was clearly out of control.
Jason tried for conciliation and looked him straight in the eye.  "Look,
Randy, I don't want to cause trouble here, but I'll tell you straight, I
took a liking to the kid and I know he likes me.  Man, I'm not gonna `take
him away from you', whatever that means, but if he wants to see me I'm not
gonna wait for your permission."

Fire burned in Randy's eyes.  What got to him was Jason's calm, steady
demeanor as he faced him down.  The man was not only a perfect physical
specimen but he was strong, defiant, and Randy was not used to being
defied.  His fury at a pitch, his reaction was inevitable.  He swung his
arm and smashed the back of his fist against Jason's face.  The near-naked
fireman spun round, flew backward through the air and crashed into the
dirt, stunned by the savage blow.

In a daze, he was only dimly aware of Randy's tirade as he towered over
him.  "Not so tough now, eh, asshole?  That's what a man gets for messing
with my family.  I raised that boy – took care of him for years – and
no hot-shot muscleman is gonna get between us now.  So go back to your
mirror, stud, and jerk off looking at yourself.  That's the guy who really
gets you off – the asshole in the mirror – so leave my boy alone.
I'm the boss here, man.  Get it?"

During Randy's outburst Jason's head had cleared and his anger rose at the
man's arrogance.  He hadn't picked this fight with Randy but now he had no
option.  As Randy reached down to grab him, Jason raised his right leg in a
karate kick, swinging his foot hard against Randy's jaw, sending him
crashing onto the patio amongst the gym equipment.  Now both men were
crawling on the ground, shaking their heads, trying to clear them.  Jason
was the first to stagger to his feet, but he was disoriented, rubbing his
jaw, waiting for his eyes to focus.

Randy, a hardened street fighter, came to his senses more quickly.  Lying
among the scattered gym gear his hands groped round him and he felt the
rope that Jason used in his workouts.  He pulled himself to his feet and
came up behind Jason.  Still reeling unsteadily, the next thing Jason knew
was something clamping tight round his throat.  His hands shot to his neck
and he felt the rope.  He tried to get his fingers round it, frantically
clawing at it to ease the pressure on his throat, but Randy had him in a
vise.

Pressed against Jason's back Randy yanked him round by the neck to face the
mirror and sneered, "OK, stud, you get off watching that muscle-god pose in
the mirror, so how do you like that pose?  Look at that face – not so
gorgeous now, twisted in pain.  I knew those muscles were only good for
show.  Not much use now, are they?"  Jason's body flexed and strained,
biceps bulging as he pulled helplessly at the rope round his neck, seeing a
blurred vision of Randy's face over his shoulder, taunting him in triumph.

Jason felt his mind grow hazy, his muscles cracking under the strain.  But
anger kept him going ... damn the man, and his arrogance ... and adrenaline
raced through his body.  With his last ounce of strength Jason pulled away
from the mirror and staggered off the patio, with Randy still behind him,
choking him.  Jason stopped clawing at the rope, raised his hands and
clamped them behind Randy's head.  He inhaled deeply, flexed, and jerked
forward.  With a supreme effort he yanked Randy off the ground and launched
him forward high over his head.

The big man flew through the air, across the lawn and landed hard on his
back in the dirt.  It was a heavy fall and, after the earlier karate kick,
Randy was momentarily stunned beyond action.  Jason seized his advantage.
As he rubbed his bruised throat, his earlier attempt at reasoning was
replaced with anger at this wildly deranged man.  He charged forward,
hauled the limp body to its knees and clamped his arm round Randy's neck
from above in a vicious headlock.

Locking his hands under Randy's throat Jason flexed his biceps and Randy
howled in pain as the arm gripped his head like a vise.  Jason straightened
up, pulling Randy to his feet, and dragged him head first toward the patio.
Randy saw what was coming and yelled "No!", but there was no escape from
the brutal headlock.  Charging forward, Jason slammed Randy's head straight
into one of the patio posts.  Ignoring the big man's howl of pain, he
pulled back then slammed the head again ... and again.  Only then did he
release him.

The massive body slumped to the ground and Jason looked down with
satisfaction at the once-proud muscle stud, the so-called King of the
Gypsies, dragging himself painfully on his stomach through the dirt in a
hopeless attempt at escape.

It was a rare sight of abject defeat.  Jason knew that if Randy hated a man
enough he could tear him apart in a fight ... he could take on two men,
three even.  Jason had heard the story of the time three thugs had run Bob
off the road and seriously injured him.  Randy had later confronted them
all, thrashed them and left them with their balls tied together.  Then he
had pushed their truck to oblivion over the side of a ravine.

But this time there was no hatred driving Randy.  Even as he had fought
Jason, part of him knew his anger was irrational.  Jason had done him or
Ben no harm and deep down Randy knew this.  He had just needed a way of
venting his anger.  Days earlier Randy had sought physical punishment from
Bob but had found only love.  Perhaps in some perverse way Jason was to be
the instrument of his punishment, something Randy still needed.

As he crawled in the dirt his incredible body, a fighting machine, could
have mustered the strength to retaliate.  In the dirt of West Texas he had
many times endured a beating, fought back and emerged triumphant.  No, it
was not his body that was defeated, it was his spirit where there was no
fight left.  Fists were not the answer to his problems so he had nothing
left.  Let Jason do his worst.

But these thoughts were all deep in his subconscious, and right now his
animal instinct was to crawl away.  As Randy dragged himself through the
dirt there was a part of Jason that pitied him ... but a bigger part that
wanted to humble this crazed tyrant of a man.  "You're not going anywhere,
stud," Jason growled, "not `til I've finished with you."

Jason dropped to his knees astride Randy's lower back and reached for the
rope that had fallen to the ground.  He leaned forward, grabbed Randy's
arms and pulled them down to his sides.  Holding his wrists in an iron grip
he forced his arms up behind his back in a vicious hammerlock and swiftly
tied the wrists together.  He forced the wrists upward, putting agonizing
pressure on his arms bent up behind his back and making the big man howl in
pain.  He yanked the end of the rope upward and tied it round Randy's neck,
so he was hogtied in helpless humiliation.

But that was only the start.  Jason leapt to his feet, reached down and
yanked Randy's jeans down below his ass.  The perfect, rock-hard mounds
were an erotic sight and Jason's cock grew stiff in his shorts, pumped with
adrenaline from the heat of battle.  Jason dropped his shorts and the naked
muscle-god fireman stared down at the hogtied King of the Gypsies.  This
was man-on-man action and testosterone filled the air as one muscular alpha
male prepared to torture the other.

Again Jason dropped to his knees, this time between Randy's legs.  He
leaned forward and clamped his hands on the small of Randy's back, pressing
it into the dirt.  The big boss was immobilized, his arms roped behind him
and tied to his neck, his ass held firmly in place, vulnerable, helpless.
Jason said, "OK, stud, we all know how you like to strut your stuff and
pound ass until your victim begs for mercy.  Well let's see how you like a
taste of your own treatment."  Some shreds of pride clung to Randy as he
growled, "Go fuck yourself, asshole."

Jason smiled contemptuously.  "Now we both know that's not gonna happen,
man.  Quite the opposite ... your ass is mine.  This is gonna be from me,
Ben, Bob and all the other guys you've treated like shit.  You've always
looked on me as some kind of narcissistic pretty boy.  Well here's the
other side of me, man.  And it won't be so pretty."

"Aaagh!"  Randy's scream echoed round the garden as he felt the long, dry
shaft driving into him, staking his ass to the ground.  The fireman pulled
back and skewered his ass again, to more resounding howls of pain.  Jason
pressed down hard on the small of Randy's back, trapping the ass so the
hog-tied muscle-stud was helpless against the ferocious piston drilling
into him.  "See how it feels, man?" Jason shouted as his hips slammed down
relentlessly.  "This is what you always do to prove your manhood, show them
all who's boss – with your cock and your fists.  Well you sure don't
look like the boss-man now."

It was a relentlessly savage dry fuck – and it went against all Jason's
instincts.  He was not a violent man ... fucking for him was a
demonstration of love, not anger.  Even this time it was not anger that
drove him, but an urge to puncture the arrogant man's ego, bring him down
to earth – humiliate him.  And this was graphic degradation as the
powerful construction boss howled, his body flexed and shuddered under the
jackhammer of Jason's cock.  His arms and shoulders bulged as he yanked
desperately against the rope binding his wrists behind him, pulling them
painfully upward to his neck.

Tough as he was, Randy was near the end of his endurance.  His head was
swimming after being pounded against the pole, his back ached from being
slammed to the ground.  And, most agonizing of all, his ass was being
deep-drilled by the fireman's merciless cock.  Jason's spectacular body was
flexing and gleaming in the sun, sweat pouring from his handsome face down
onto his tortured prisoner.  "Can't take anymore, eh stud?" Jason taunted.
"Come on boss-man, give up.  You know you're finished.  Submit to me, man!
Now ...! "

He pulled all the way out, paused, then plunged his cock all the way down,
smashing it deep inside Randy's ravaged ass.  "Aaagh!  Aaagh!  OK, I give
up ... I can't take any more ... You win ... I submit to you.  I submit..."

Jason's cock exploded deep inside the construction worker's ass, streaming
with hot juice as the defeated body bucked and heaved in pain.  Jason
pulled out, leapt to his feet and shot one last load over his bound
captive.  He paused, then as a final act of total degradation, unleashed a
torrent of piss over the bruised and battered flesh.  He hooked his foot
under Randy's chest, flipped him over onto his back, and gazed down at the
rugged face, streaked with dirt and tears.  He smiled with wry satisfaction
at the semen spread over Randy's chest.  The broken stud had suffered the
final humiliation of shooting his load as he was fucked by the man who had
demolished him.

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

Jason pulled on his shorts and, when his heaving breath subsided, said, "I
didn't start this fight Randy – you did, for some warped reason of your
own.  But it's finished, and I'm gonna ship you back home where you
belong."  The beaten man was in no position to resist, his body limp, his
spirit broken.  Jason hauled him to his knees, then to his feet, and
dragged him outside, his arms still bound behind him, jeans still hanging
round his legs.

When they got to Jason's truck there was only one thing for it.  He pulled
down the tail gate and hauled the bound body onto the tarps spread over the
truck bed.  He slammed the tail gate shut, leapt into the cab and started
off.  It was not a long drive, but not a smooth one either, up the twisting
road from Jason's house, then up the even steeper corkscrew road to
Randy's.

In the back of the truck, his arms helplessly hog-tied behind him, Randy
had no defense except to flex his muscles as his body rolled from one side
of the truck bed to the other, banging against the metal sides with every
screeching turn.  Finally, mercifully, he heard the crunch of gravel under
the tires as they pulled up at the gate.  Jason opened the tailgate and
pulled Randy from the truck.

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

Sitting round the table by the pool, Bob, Mark and Zack had been talking
about Randy in worried tones – where he had gone and what in god's name
he would do next after slapping his young brother and injuring Bob.  They
had left him alone in his room but had not seen him since.  Then, suddenly,
their questions were answered.  The gate was flung open and Jason, walked
in, naked except for gym shorts, heaving Randy with him, his feet dragging
over the ground, jeans wrapped round his ankles.

Jason flung him forward with a look of contempt and the big boss crashed
face-down on the grass.  The guys saw that he was hogtied, his arms bent
painfully behind him, wrists tied high up his back and roped to his neck.
He lay there inertly, his body covered with dirt and sweat.  Cum still
oozed from his ass and ran down his legs, and he stunk of piss.  Bruised
and battered, the King of the Gypsies had taken a beating.  It was a
picture of total degradation.

The three men leapt to their feet and Bob ran over to kneel beside his
lover and untie his wrists.  Jason looked down at Bob, then up at Mark and
Zack with a pained expression.  "Guys, I never wanted this.  You know I
deliberately stayed away from here when the situation with Ben arose.  I
never looked for a confrontation with Randy, least of all a fight.  But
Randy came to my house, insulting me and looking for a fight.  I had to
defend myself.  I'm a man, after all, and this guy was so out of whack, out
of control that I had to teach him a lesson and bring him down to earth
... literally."

The guys were silent, knowing that Jason's words had the ring of truth.
They had no doubt that Randy had been the aggressor.  As he continued,
Jason's voice became less intense, contemplative even.  "Tell you the
truth, guys, deep down I don't think Randy had that old fighting spirit in
him – didn't hate me enough.  We all know that when he's really mad,
Randy can come back from a beating and always win a fight.  Sounds strange,
I know, but I got a sense that Randy kind of needed to be punished like
that," and he nodded down to the broken muscle-stud who was being helped to
his feet by Bob.

Zack sprang forward and helped Bob support Randy.  Standing unsteadily
between them, his arms over their shoulders, Randy allowed himself to be
half carried into the house.

Mercifully the boys had not witnessed the traumatic sight of Randy's
humiliation, engrossed as they were watching a video in Pablo and Darius's
room.  All except the twins, that is, who were working in the kitchen from
where they had a clear view of the garden.  Now they ran out and their
primary concern was for Jason, who had a bruise on his face, rope marks
round his neck and scratches over his body.  Like all the boys, the twins
knew the rule of not getting involved in a dispute between the masters, but
they looked up at Mark with concern.

"OK, kids," Mark nodded, slipping into his role of take-charge cop, "Take
Jason inside and clean him up."  Mark and Jason had been close friends for
a long time now, and before they went in Mark pulled Jason aside.  "You OK,
buddy?"  Jason nodded with a grim smile.  "Nobody's gonna blame you for
this," Mark said softly.  "We all know the insane rage Randy was in.  He'd
already hit Ben and hurt Bob."  Jason clenched his fists at the mention of
Ben, but Mark said, "Yeah, I know, I know.  I'd have done the same, worse
even, if he'd struck Jamie like that.  Now let the twins patch you up," he
grinned, "restore that natural beauty of yours."

So the twins took Jason into the kitchen, pulled out the first-aid kit and
gently dabbed at the bruise on his face and the marks round his throat, and
cleaned the scratches on his body.  They were relieved to see that the
fireman's beauty had survived unscathed.  Kyle grinned, "A couple of days
and you'll look like your old self, sir."  Kevin added, "Just like you do
in the calendar, sir.  That's a nasty bruise, though."

"Yeah," Jason grinned, "but you should see the other guy."

"Oh we did, sir.  We did."

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

Mark had looked into Randy's room to reassure himself that Bob and Zack
were coping, and to get the keys to Randy's truck from his jeans pocket.
Then he went into Pablo and Darius's room where they were huddled with
Jamie, Nate, Eddie and Ben, trying to make sense of what had happened.
They looked up anxiously as the cop strode in.

"OK, guys," Mark said in his no-nonsense manner.  "I won't beat around the
bush ... Randy and Jason have been in a pretty big fight.  Randy came off
worse but he's real tough as we all know, so he'll recover fast with Bob
taking care of him.  A word of warning, though.  I don't want you to start
speculating about what happens next.  The men will sort everything out so I
want you to steer clear of it and not get involved.  No gossip, no rumors,
is that clear?" and he looked directly at Darius.  "I know how you guys can
be."

They shifted uncomfortably as Mark continued.  "Jamie, here are the keys to
Randy's truck that's parked at Jason's house.  In a few minutes I want you
to go to the kitchen where the twins are cleaning Jason up, and let him
drive you down to his place.  Make sure everything's OK there ... help
Jason clean things up.  Stay with him for a while if you like, then drive
Randy's truck back up here, OK?"  Jamie nodded obediently.

"You other boys, I want you to take care of Ben, who unfortunately got hurt
in the middle of all this.  I want to make it clear that none of you are at
fault here ... nobody ... so just calm down and let us guys take care of
it.  Understand?"

"Yes, sir," they said in unison, and Mark left the room.  There was silence
for a while but then Ben spoke up.  "Mark was wrong about one thing ... it
is all someone's fault – mine!  If had never blabbed about how much I
liked Jason none of this would have happened.  Now they've had a knock-down
drag-out and my brother's been hurt.  I'm starting to think I should never
have come here, and the only thing I can do is get the hell out."

He stood up to leave but there were howls of protest and they pulled him
back down on the bed.  It was Darius who confronted him.  "Now listen to
me, dude.  First thing – you don't run away.  We've all tried that at
one time or another and, take it from me, it can be a real downer.  They
always come and find you and it's a big relief when they do.  So don't bail
on us, kid.

"Second of all, don't blame yourself, dude.  There was nothing wrong in
your getting a hard-on for the fireman.  He's fucking gorgeous after all."
Surprisingly Eddie piped up, "That's right, Ben, we're all hot for Jason.
My cock goes hard every time I see him and when I'm cleaning the twins'
room I often pull out their calendar and beat off looking at his picture."
He stopped suddenly, blushing deeply as he realized he had said too much.
But they all laughed and from then on the tension was broken.

Pablo gave his take on it.  "Ben, you, me the twins, Bob and Randy are
family – kind of like a family within a family.  All the best families
have fights and then patch things up."  Jamie added, "The main thing is,
kiddo, you'll always have us boys to look out for you.  That's what we've
always done.  When anyone of us in trouble we circle the wagons."

"Like I always say, dude," Darius laughed, "we boys are a band of
brothers."

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

Up in Randy's room things were not so light-hearted.  They were pretty
grim, in fact.  Bob, Zack and Mark had helped Randy into the shower and
then Mark, with his cop's first-aid training had gone carefully over
Randy's body and determined that there was no lasting damage.  "No bones
broken," he said to Bob, pulling him aside.  "He's tough as nails.  He'll
recover quickly – physically, at least."

"Yeah, that's what worries me, Mark.  God knows what's going through his
mind right now."

"What kills me," Mark said, "is that this whole Ben and Jason thing has got
totally out of control – and they haven't even been seeing each other,
not done anything.  But Randy's gone totally unhinged over it.  It runs
real deep, and if you ask me, what the guy needs is a ton of therapy."

Bob was thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Mark, could you and Zack leave
us alone for a while?  I'm real grateful for all your help, but I think
he's gonna sleep now.  I know him, and after a fight he usually sleeps and,
when he wakes up, he's back to his old self ... whatever that means right
now."

Mark gave Bob a hug which, as usual, made their dicks stiffen in their
pants, and then he and Zack left them alone.  Since getting out of the
shower Randy had been in a kind of daze and now, lying in bed, he was
already half asleep.  Bob sat beside the bed and, just before he fell
asleep Randy reached over and squeezed Bob's hand.  Then there was silence.

Bob pulled the covers up to Randy's chin, then stood up and paced the room.
He was uneasy, with no idea where to go from here.  He was out of his
depth.  But at last he came to a decision, went over to a corner of the
room and pulled out his cell phone.  "Hey, buddy, I'm glad you're there.
Listen, man, I need your help ... or more specifically Randy needs your
help.  Is there any chance you could come over?"

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

It was an hour or so before Randy swam slowly back to consciousness.  As
Bob had predicted, sleep for Randy was like a balm, his body was
recovering, but as thoughts crowded back he flinched at the memory of what
happened and the mess he was in.  `Got to get it together,' was his first
conscious thought.  `Gotta get a grip.'  He forced himself to open his eyes
and slowly a face came into focus.  `Good, he thought – Bob.'

But Bob had left the room.  The face that now smiled down at him was his
brother Steve's.  Randy frowned and growled his first words ... "What the
fuck are you doing here?"

"And hello to you too, big brother," Steve grinned.  "Bob called me –
asked me to come over.  Seems like you got yourself into a whole mess of
trouble again.  No surprise there."

"Oh yeah ... well it's none of your business, man.  It's strictly between
me and Bob."

"Apparently not," Steve sighed.  "Seems it involves a lot of other guys –
the whole tribe, in fact.  Bob gave me the complete story and I'd say it
could be quite serious.  Randy, I'm here not as your brother but as your
therapist.  Now I know from the past that you're just as likely to slug me
and throw me out of the room ... but I really hope you don't."

Randy turned his head away and breathed deeply.  He was confused, scared,
and he did need to talk.  Steve was as good as anyone, he guessed.  He
threw the covers back, strode across the room and got two beers from the
small fridge.  Randy was wearing only clean white boxers that Bob had put
on him, and the fact that his body bore the marks of a fight – scratches
and bruises – only added to his intense sexual attraction.  Brother or
not, as Steve sat watching him he felt his cock getting hard.

Randy sprawled in a chair facing Steve and said grudgingly, "OK, you're the
shrink, bro, you go first."  Steve smiled at him.  "Well, suppose you tell
me the first memories that come to you."

Randy took a gulp of beer and Steve saw his eyes get moist.  "I hit Ben
... our little brother ... I swiped my hand across his face and he fell
down.  Then I manhandled Bob and hurt him.  After that I went to the root
of the problem and started a fight with Jason, but he thrashed me, tied me
up and fucked my ass.  Then he pissed on me and left me stinking on the
ground."  He suddenly sounded aggressive.  "But I could have beaten him if
I'd really wanted to.  Guess I didn't really have much fight in me."

"And why do you think that was?" asked Steve patiently.

"I..." Randy began belligerently, and then seemed to crumple.  "Man, the
problem wasn't Ben or Bob or Jason.  It's me, bro – I can't handle this
family thing.  It was all going so well – me the head of our little
family – Bob, Pablo, Ben, the twins.  I loved the idea ... too much, I
guess.  When Ben took a shine to Jason I saw it as him breaking up the
family, disobeying my authority.  I couldn't have that so ... well, you
know me, Steve..."

"You lashed out with your fists – your remedy for everything.  Well,
you've pretty much described the issue perfectly.  The challenge now is to
find the answer.  First let me say that Ben's attraction to Jason is
perfectly normal in a young member of a family, feeling secure and
confident (all thanks to you) and ready to spread his wings.  In Texas you
had a family of five young brothers who you raised and protected and who
worshipped you, obeyed your every word.  But now it's different.  This new
family is growing up ... and that's what Ben's doing."

"Yeah, but how can I be the head of the family after everything I've done?
Jason was right to beat me up, and I'm glad he trashed me in front of the
other guys.  That's the real me, Steve, a fucking loser, with no right to
have a family."

"Ah," Steve smiled, "the old familiar problem ... low self-esteem.  Randy,
I just don't get you ... still trying to prove how macho you are.  You're
not a gypsy scratching out a living on the streets of West Texas anymore.
You've come up in the world, man.  You're a successful owner of a fast
growing construction company, the money's rolling in, and you have that
incredible, beautiful man, Bob, who's nuts about you.  And between you
you've built up this tribe of extraordinary guys here.  You have an adopted
son and a kid brother who idolize you.  So what the fuck are you still
trying to prove, man?

"You know, the trouble with you, Randy, is you have no vanity ... you have
no idea what you are.  You are a born leader ... you rule that construction
site and every man there respects you as the ultimate boss.  More than
that, you are so fucking gorgeous, with a rugged sexuality that leaps out
of you, it's almost scary.  You are everyone's wet dream – the boys here
worship you and the guys respect you, no matter how crazy you get
sometimes.  Every man deep down lusts for you."

Randy winced.  "After everything I've done ... been a total asshole
... fucked everything up?  Who the hell would lust for me now?"

There was a long silence as Steve gazed at him.  "Well ... me for a start."

"You!?  Now way, man ... that's bullshit ... you're my brother."

"Yeah, a brother who's sitting here gazing at that magnificent
battle-scarred body of yours and that stunning gypsy face and my cock is so
hard I can feel pre-cum oozing from it.  You always do that to me, man.  I
don't care if you've gone wild, got thrashed and trussed up.  Don't you get
it?  That makes you even sexier, even more of a man."  Steve leapt to his
feet.  "Here..."

Having come straight from the office Steve was wearing his smart work
clothes that he now proceeded to strip off – the tie, starched white
shirt, slacks, shorts and loafers.  Within seconds he was naked and Randy
was gazing at his flawless body and ruggedly handsome face.  "You're
fucking gorgeous yourself, bro," Randy breathed as he rose to his feet and
dropped his boxers.  The brothers stood naked facing each other, both with
rock-hard cocks.

Steve dropped to his knees, reached out for Randy's cock and bent forward,
sucking the thick cock into his mouth and pushing his face forward into the
black tangle of Randy's pubic hair.  Randy gazed down at the
broad-shouldered stud, his muscles rippling, and knew he was close to
losing his load in his brother's mouth.  "No, man," he said, "not like
that."  He pulled Steve up onto his feet and gazed at him.  "On the bed,
man.  I'm gonna fuck your ass."

Obediently Steve threw himself on his back on the bed and gazed up at the
swarthy giant looming over him.  "God, you're beautiful Randy.  You know
how often I've jerked off thinking about you ... getting fucked by my big
brother?"  Steve put his hands behind his knees and pulled his legs back,
offering his ass to Randy.  Randy spat in his hand and wrapped it round his
thick cock, stroking it slowly.  Then he dropped to his knees between
Steve's legs, pressed the head of his cock against his brother's hole and
pushed it inside his ass, further and further until it came to rest against
the warm, velvet membrane deep inside.

He eased his cock out, then back in slowly, gently, again and again, and
the big body beneath him shuddered in ecstasy.  Randy moaned, "Man that
feels incredible."  He turned his head to the side and looked at the mirror
beside the bed.  "Look at that, bro, two gorgeous bodybuilders, one
ass-fucking the other."

"Oh, shit," Steve said, "that looks awesome, man, fucking pornographic."
It was true, one muscular body marked by bruises and scratches, the body of
a fighter ... the other flawless physique honed to perfection at the gym.
Steve was stroking his cock and said, "You are such a turn-on, man, I can't
hold out much longer ... I'm so close."

"No!" Randy growled.  He pulled Steve's hand off his cock, grabbed both
wrists and, leaning forward, pinned them to the bed above Steve's head.
"Your mine now, man, and you do as I say.  I'm the boss and you cum when I
say you can, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Steve said, gazing up at the swarthy face, stubbled jaw, pale
blue eyes and long black hair.

"And you're not gonna need to touch that cock.  I can make any man bust his
load without touching himself."  Randy was in his element, the powerful
muscle-god, the ultimate alpha male whose sexual magnetism was
overpowering.  He let the fuck go on and on as two pairs of steel-blue eyes
bored into each other.  Randy watched with satisfaction as the struggling
body writhed beneath him, muscles rippling, the cock shuddering, dripping
pre-cum that ran down the shaft and into the sweat-soaked pubic hair.  He
smiled at the tortured look in Steve's eyes.

"Please," Steve groaned.  "Please, sir, I can't take anymore.  You're
driving me crazy.  I gotta cum.  Please sir, let me shoot.  Let me feel
your juice inside my ass.  I'm begging you, sir."

Randy grinned and said, "Oh, I love to hear a man beg, especially a
muscle-hunk like you, bro."  With Steve totally at his mercy, Randy felt
the power coursing through him; his self-doubt was vanquished, his
dominance restored.  The boss was back.  He flexed his muscles and smiled
down at his brother.  "OK, stud, I've tormented you enough.  You can cum
when I do.  Here we go."  His piston pounded Steve's tortured ass harder,
faster, until ... Aaagh!"

Randy's triumphant yell was drowned out by his brother's own scream as
Steve saw the body shudder above him and felt the hot liquid pouring deep
inside his ass.  "Aaagh," Steve yelled again as his cock erupted with
ribbons of white cream, pushed out of him by his brother's cock and
splashing down on his face and chest.

The eruptions continued, the bodies shook, the faces contorted in ecstasy,
until finally they were spent and Randy fell forward onto his brother's
chest, their bodies sliding together on pools of jism.  They were laughing
now and Randy said, "That was one hell of a therapy session, brother.
You're one crazy shrink, but you sure know how to restore a man's
confidence."

Steve grinned, "And you, big brother, sure as hell know how to fuck."

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

After they cleaned up Steve guided Randy through a more orthodox therapy
session.  They talked about family, how it evolves and grows, and what it
takes to be the head of the family.  "Different from being boss of a
construction crew," Steve grinned.  "Being head of a family calls for
finesse, not fists."  As Steve's calm logic sank in Randy felt increasingly
embarrassed at his wild, erratic reaction to Ben's desire to spread his
wings and spend time with Jason.  Steve asked Bob to join them and together
they reassured Randy he could quickly re-establish his authority over the
boys – no fists required.

The three men took a breather, but Randy was impatient to act.  He called
in Pablo, Ben and the twins and they sat crossed-legged on the floor facing
him.  Randy leaned forward in his chair and spoke earnestly to them.
"Like, I've said, before, guys, we're all family in this room –
including my brother Steve here.  All families have arguments, and it was
me and my anger that caused this one.  But with a shrink like Steve to help
us, and hard work from us all, we can stay strong.  We've just gone through
a kind of trial of strength, me especially, and from now on things will be
different – starting with Ben."  He smiled at his young brother.

"Little brother, I was wrong about you and Jason.  I'll make my peace with
the guy and of course you can go see him.  He's a good guy..." he grinned
and rubbed his jaw ... "and one hell of a fighter."  He paused.  "OK,
that's all I've got to say for now – except that I love you all.  Right
now I want to be alone with Bob."  He shot him a look.  "We've got a few
fences to mend."

The boys stood up, some of them misty eyed, and hugged Randy one by one
with a heartfelt "Thank you, sir."  Randy held onto Pablo for a long time
and whispered, "Thanks for sticking with me kiddo."  Pablo rewarded him
with his crooked smile.  "Always, sir – you know that."

When they had left, Steve smiled at Randy and said, "See, big guy, that
wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Fuck you, man," Randy grinned, "and thank you.  You're the best shrink a
brother could have."  They hugged, Steve left and Randy picked up the
phone.  He had a conciliatory conversation with Jason, long enough to make
amends, to restore their friendship and to reassure him that Ben was free
to come and see him.  Then, at last, he turned to Bob and stammered, "Man,
I don't even know where to begin.  It's hard for me to find the words ..."

"Then don't," Bob smiled.  "Just show me, buddy, the way you always do."
Bob stripped naked and lay on his back on the bed.  "I want to get
ass-fucked by the boss."

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

A short while later Ben was sitting alone under a tree in the garden trying
to get his mind around all that had happened.  His emotions were mixed –
excitement that he was free to see Jason, but some apprehension.  Would
Jason still want to see him after the big fight with Randy?  Would he
consider Ben too much trouble, the boy with the over-protective big
brother, the boy who had brought him nothing but grief so far?  Ben sighed
in confusion and just then his cell phone rang.  He opened it and heard a
familiar voice.

"Hey, Ben, it's Jason.  I had a call from Randy a while ago and ... well,
things seem to be all patched up and ... well, I ... I mean you're probably
busy later but ... on the off chance you're free ... I was wondering how
you'd feel about coming here for dinner this evening, just you and me.  No
sweat if you're too busy but ..."

"Yes sir!  I mean no, sir, I'm not too busy.  I can come ... I mean I'd
love to come.  Thank you, sir, that would be awesome.  What time, sir?  OK,
I'll be there."

Ben shut off the phone, his heart racing ... and a boner sticking up in his
shorts.  He got up and started to pace.  Then he got nervous.  Suddenly the
gate opened and Jamie came in, having helped Jason clean up after the fight
and driven Randy's truck back.

"Hey, Jamie," Ben shouted.  "Dude, could you help me out with something?"
Jamie smiled, having been with Jason when Randy had called him, so he knew
the coast was clear for Ben and knew that Jason would be calling him.
Jamie sat under the tree with Ben and smiled at him.  "So, dude, has he
asked you?"

"Jason, you mean?  Yeah and I'm real stoked about it but ... well I'm a bit
nervous too.  See I think I really, really like Jason, but when we had
those group sex games here, at the end he said he really wanted to fuck my
ass.  Well, I'm thinking maybe that's all he wants ... I mean a young kid
like me ... and he's this gorgeous stud fireman that everyone lusts for.
Well, what else would he want from me but a young piece of ass, then dinner
and it's `Thanks a lot, kid, that was great' ... and that's it.  And
another thing – you and Mark are kinda best buddies with Jason so
... like, are you OK with all this, Jamie?'

Jamie laughed.  "Hey, hey, slow down, dude.  One thing at a time.  OK,
first, you're right that Mark and me are real close with Jason ... there
was even talk at first of me being boy to both of them.  But you know I'm
so into Mark ... I worship the guy ... that we knew it wouldn't work.  I
mean, we all three fuck from time to time, and that's awesome, but
basically Jason's simply our best buddy, and we've come to know him real
well."

Jamie paused to let that sink in, then continued.  "OK, so what about
Jason?  People always get the wrong idea about the guy ... I mean, he's so
fucking gorgeous everyone thinks he's Mr. Popular, has sex all the time and
gets off on people drooling over him.  But actually it's quite the
opposite.  He's told us that his looks set him apart from other guys.  The
other firemen respect him and all, but they never socialize with him.  Guys
are kinda scared off by his beauty – resentful sometimes.

"So he's always lived alone, has never had a relationship – no boy or
anything – and if you want my opinion he's a bit shy ... and lonely,
real lonely.  Mark thinks that's one reason he likes getting off on himself
in the mirror.  It's not vanity, really – it's just that he's got nobody
else.  By the way, Mark and I think that mirror thing is hot and we love
watching it."  Jamie grinned.  "But as for what he wants from you, dude,
well I guess you're just gonna have to find that out."

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

Talking with Jamie had helped a lot, but Ben was still nervous as he tried
to decide what to wear.  As sexy as possible, he thought at first, but then
realized it was a dinner invitation so, like, no tank tops or anything.  He
settled for a plain blue Polo shirt, cargo shorts and sneakers.  He tried
to do stuff with his hair but eventually gave up and left it flopping over
his face as usual.

As he drove down the hill his nerves increased and he was plagued with
images of how Jason would look, what he would be doing.  Probably working
out in those thin, sexy shorts of his, pumping his muscles to impress Ben.
Nah, the guy didn't need to impress anyone.  Jason could be reading from
the phone book and Ben would still get a hard-on.  He had one now, more or
less permanently since he had heard Jason's voice on the phone.

But it would be all about sex, Ben knew that.  It was during that hot sex
with him, in front of all the other guys at the sex games, that Ben had
fallen in ... well, fallen in whatever it was with Jason.  He was so
consumed with these thoughts that it was a shock to find himself drawing up
to Jason's gate.  He looked in the rearview mirror and tried to smooth his
hair but ... ah, to hell with it.  He'd probably be naked in a few minutes
anyway, working out with Jason in front of the mirror, then getting fucked.
His heart was beating wildly as he paused at the gate, took a deep breath,
and walked in.

Nobody.  The garden was silent, no sign of Jason, certainly not using the
patio gym.  Ben panicked.  Maybe he had got the wrong day, wrong time.
Maybe Jason had cooled on the idea ... maybe he should leave.

"Hey, Ben!"  the cheerful shout rang across the garden as Jason came out of
the house.  "Sorry, kiddo, I was immersed in the kitchen with the tap
running so I didn't hear you."

Ben's jaw dropped.  Striding toward him Jason was dressed in a white
V-necked T-shirt, clean blue-jeans, with casual topsiders on his feet.  The
word that ran through Ben's mind was `preppy,' a far cry from the
near-naked muscle hunk he had expected.  His spectacular body was still
obvious, etched under his T-shirt, but as he came toward Ben, wiping his
hands on a dish towel, Jason was the image of domesticity.

He threw open his arms, folded them around Ben and kissed him hard on the
mouth.  Instead of the smell of sweat that he associated with Jason in his
gym, Ben breathed in the fresh, clean scent of bleach on his gleaming white
shirt.  Jason held him at arm's length, beaming.  "Well here we are at
last, Ben.  Had to jump through some hoops along the way, but we finally
made it.  God, it's good to see you ... you look terrific, as always.  Come
into the kitchen."

Ben followed Jason into the kitchen which was a scene of fevered activity
and enticing smells.  This was obviously going to be much more than beer
and a sandwich.  "Take a pew," Jason said.  "Just let me check the stuff in
the oven and I'll be right with you."

Ben sat at the big table and looked around.  It was more than just a
kitchen ... a big room, part dining room, with comfortable chairs.  Reading
Ben's mind Jason said, "I designed it like this ... wanted it to be
comfortable `cause people usually gather in the kitchen and talk to the
chef while he's cooking.  Not that I have a lot of company," he added
quietly, almost to himself.  He closed the oven door and grinned. "I
thought we'd push the boat out a bit and start with martinis.  You up for
that?'

"Yes please, sir," Ben said in a bit of a daze.  He would have said yes to
anything right now.  He gazed at Jason as he rattled the martini shaker.
He couldn't remember ever seeing Jason dressed like this ... hardly ever
saw him with a shirt on.  As he watched the gorgeous fireman, who was
plainly enjoying himself, Ben saw him in a whole different light ... a real
man, not just a sex icon or a picture in a calendar.  If anything he looked
even sexier in regular clothes, with the V-neck T-shirt stretched over his
gorgeous chest, biceps bulging under the short sleeves, and Ben's boner got
harder in his shorts.

Only thing was, would there be any sex?  Ben had feared it would be all
just a quick fuck and a quick meal, but now it seemed the opposite – an
elaborate meal and ... maybe that's it, no sex?"  Then suddenly, as he
poured the martinis, Jason put all Ben's fears to rest.

"Ben, I wanted to ask you something ...can you stay all night?  I'll call
Randy to clear it with him, but I wanted to check with you first, see if
you'd be OK with that.  What d'ya say?"

Ben blinked, taken aback.  Then he found his voice.  "I say yes, sir.  Yes
please, sir.  Yes, please.  That would be way cool, sir."

Jason laughed, "Well I think we can manage a bit better than cool, eh?
Kick the temperature up a notch?"  He raised his martini glass and Ben
copied him.  "So here's to a great time together, kiddo.  Here's to us."
And they clinked glasses.

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

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 182


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.

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