Date: Sat, 18 Apr 2015 21:50:31 -0400
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 254  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 254
By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER: The Italian gardener, Mario and the rugged Marine, Hassan
work shirtless side by side.  Even though he resists it Mario's lust
finally erupts. "Godammit," Hassan says, "I've wanted you every time I
watched you work.  Well now you've shown me you want it bad and, boy,
you're gonna get it."  The Marine stared down at the Italian stud
spread-eagled naked.  "So fucking beautiful – man, that turns me on."

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


Chapter 254 – "The Soldier & The Italian Gardener"

The bungalow Bob had recently bought as a rental had its charms, everyone
agreed, but Randy had proclaimed it a "fixer" – run down and in need of
renovation.

With work about to begin Randy said to the boys, "As you all know, me and
the men want this to be mostly a boys' project – give you a chance to
show us what you're made of.  But this is serious business, lots of money
involved, so no fooling around."  He fixed his gaze sternly on Ben and
Eddie.  His warning to the junior boys was well-timed – but ignored.

The first job was partial demolition and Zack had warned that demolition
was more dangerous than construction – another warning that was ignored.
The oversexed `three amigos', Eddie, Ben and Brandon had fucked up – by
fucking each other.  With one wall left standing – but only just –
they decided to take time out to "pull one off" as Ben said, which Eddie
described otherwise as "a quick blow job".

As their mini-orgy intensified, the wall shook and would have fallen on
them but for the brave intervention of the Italian gardener Mario – and
the wall fell on him instead.  The Marine, Hassan, who had been working
with Mario, pulled him out from the rubble shaken but with only minor
injuries.  Mindful of the possibility of delayed shock Hassan had removed
Mario from the scene for rest and recuperation at his house up in the
hills.

The younger boys were punished by the three senior boys, Pablo, Darius and
Jamie with a boisterous senior-on-junior ass fuck.  It was also an
opportunity for Pablo and Brandon to reconcile.  Randy greeted the six
cum-soaked boys, hugged Pablo and squeezed Brandon's shoulder.  "So you two
finally made your peace?" he smiled.  "That makes me real happy.  Can't
have my boys fighting."

"Er, is there any word from Mario," Brandon asked.  "Is he really OK?"

"Kiddo, he's been bathed and put to bed by a tall, dark and handsome
muscle-god Marine.  You do the math.  My guess is he's doing just fine.

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

Randy was right, of course.  At that moment Hassan was gazing down at the
young Italian on his bed – the naked gardener with the flawless body and
dark Mediterranean looks.  Mario had dozed a little but now looked up at
the rugged Marine.  "You feeling OK, Mario?"

"Sure, sir, never better," Mario grinned.

"You don't have to call me sir, Mario.  I don't think of you as one of the
boys."

"Oh, I like to.  Makes me feel like one of your new recruits, captain –
under you command."

Hassan inhaled sharply, feeling his cock pulse in his fatigues.  Mario
gazed up at the exotic, chiseled features and slanted eyes.  "If it's OK
with you I'd like to stick around this afternoon.  The bungalow can wait.
If you like I could stay up here and do some more work on your garden."  He
flashed an inviting smile.  "Perhaps we could work on it together,
captain?"

Hassan smiled back at him.  "Nothing I'd like better.  And later, when
Eddie shows up we'll clean him up and the three of us can have dinner
together.  Sound like a plan?"

Mario chuckled, "Aye-aye, Capitano."

"You hungry?" Hassan asked.  "Looks like we missed the lunch that the twins
brought up to the bungalow but I have the remains of a casserole in the
oven.  You up for that?"

Mario frowned, "Up for that?"  He blushed deeply, acutely aware of his
hard-on under the sheet and mistakenly thinking Hassan's `up for that' was
some reference to it.

"Means `would you like that?'" Hassan laughed.

"Ah, scusi," Mario smiled – "my English ... Of course I would like that
... molto gentile.  He often lapsed into Italian when he was flummoxed.  He
scrambled out of bed with his back to Hassan and stepped into his jeans
nervously, hopping on one leg as he clumsily pulled them up.  He buttoned
them up and turned round, hoping his boner was not obvious underneath.

He need not have worried.  Hassan hadn't seen his erection but he had got a
good look at his beautiful ass flexing as he struggled into his jeans, and
Hassan had his own erection in his fatigues.  They smiled nervously and
Hassan said, "Come, my friend, let's eat out on the patio."

While Hassan dealt with the casserole he asked Mario to make his selection
from the large wine rack in his kitchen.  Mario was impressed.  "Ah, you
have many Italian wines here ... and look, my favorite ... Brunello di
Montalcino."  He pulled the bottle out and smiled.  "Montalcino is only
twenty kilometers from my village in Tuscany.  Have you been to Tuscany,
Hassan?"

"Sure have.  Spent six months in Northern Italy working with the Italian
army before coming to the States.  I even speak a few words of the language
but," he stammered, "solamente un poco – is that right for `only a
little'?"

Mario laughed.  "Perfetto, capitano.  However, as you speak so little
Italian and I speak not a word of Arabic, we shall have to converse in
English."  He chuckled.  "Or, as we say in Italy, with the language of the
eyes."  He blushed, realizing that could be taken as seduction, which is
not what he had meant, and then he made matters worse by stammering on, "I
mean only that when two people do not speak the same language a lot can be
said by the eyes.  I er, I was not for a moment suggesting that..."

"It's OK, Mario," Hassan laughed.  "There's a lot gets lost in translation.
Come on, let's take all this onto the patio."

The slight embarrassment was short-lived and, with all the talk of wine and
Tuscany, the tone was set.  As they ate and drank they both found pleasure
in being able to talk with someone who was widely traveled and familiar
with Europe.  They both loved living in California, especially with the
spectacular group of men they had fallen in with by chance, but they missed
their native cultures and welcomed the chance to talk about them with
another expatriate.

The sun was high in the sky but there was a stiff onshore breeze blowing
through the hills from the Pacific and the patio was shaded, so Hassan went
indoors and came out wearing a khaki T-shirt that hugged his torso and
accentuate his big biceps, with a glimpse of short curly black chest hair
in the shirt's V-neck.  He gave Mario a loose white cotton shirt ... "Here,
you gotta keep warm after that shock you had."

Mario slipped it on and fastened only the bottom buttons, leaving it to
flap open over the rounded contours of his perfect pecs.  As they ate, each
man stole surreptitious glances at the other and their hearts beat a little
faster.

Despite the distraction, their conversation flowed fast and easy.  Hassan
talked about his native village in the Middle East and, comparing notes,
they were surprised to find similarities between their villages two
thousand miles apart.  "I guess village life is pretty much the same the
world over," Hassan said, flashing a white-toothed smile on his handsome
olive-skinned face.  Mario felt his cock pulse and he blushed slightly,
though Hassan attributed the blush to the wine.

And that was the odd thing.  Although the Italian and the Arab quickly
established a close rapport, chatting and laughing amiably, neither one was
really aware of the extent of the other man's sexual attraction to him.
They both had more or less permanent erections but they tried to conceal
them, unaware that the attraction was mutual.

Hassan attributed Mario's stumbling expressions of intimacy to nervousness,
a common occurrence in men when facing the exotically handsome, muscular
Marine Captain.  And Mario misinterpreted Hassan's intensely private nature
as a lack of sexual interest in him.  Also, Hassan's emotional and sexual
needs were met by Eddie, a boy he loved very much.

In fact, Mario cringed when he thought of his earlier flippant comments –
`feeling like a new recruit under the captain's command' – `language of
the eyes'.  Now they seemed like clumsy attempts at seduction and he
determined to avoid such ambiguous statements in future.

None of this dampened the pleasure they found in each other's company and
conversation, though a couple of times they did veer dangerously close to
sexual matters.  When Hassan asked Mario why he had decided to come to
Southern California he responded laughingly, "The weather and the men.
It's always summer here and I love the sun.  And there are more gorgeous
men here per square mile than anywhere else."

When Mario posed a similar question to Hassan the Marine stumbled out
platitudes at first but then, in a moment of raw candor, said, "Actually, I
came here to find Mark.  When I had interrogated him as a prisoner of war I
... I fell in love with him and, when the U.S. Marines recruited me I
followed Mark halfway round the world to be with him. That's common
knowledge in the house so I feel free telling you."

"You're right, Hassan," Mario said quietly.  "The story is common knowledge
and Darius, especially, gets off on describing the scene of the macho
soldier's interrogation in that desert cell.  He makes it sound quite
homoerotic, though I'm not really into the bondage scene.  Not much
anyway."

They were in very thin ice here and both of them felt their cocks rearing
up in their pants.  Hassan hastily said, "Well, happily that period of my
life is over and it's not something I'm proud of.  Mark is now a good
friend – and I hope you and I can be friends too, Mario."

"I'm sure we will be, Hassan," Mario smiled – and the word `friends'
seemed to close the door on any possibility of sexual involvement –
despite their hidden boners.

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

Mario found firmer footing with humor.  "And now, Capitano, I must ... how
do your say? ... `sing for my supper' by doing some work.  You gave me
lunch and in return I must offer you my landscaping skills.  When I worked
up here last time I noticed, just a few feet down the hill, a sort of
natural terrace that faces west.  With a little spadework it could be
fashioned into a proper terrace, planted with shrubs and flowers, a private
place where I see you and Eddie sitting together watching the sunset into
your old age.

"Not so much of the `old age' buddy, but I know the spot.  Sure, let's take
a crack at it."  They put away the dishes, Mario pulled on his boots and
they walked down to the garden shed.  They selected spades and forks and
continued on down the slope to the terrace.  "It just needs to be cut back
a bit into the hillside to make it deeper – hence the spadework."

"You sure you're up for this, Mario?  After all, only a couple of hours ago
you were buried under a wall."

"No problema, Capitano," Mario grinned.  "We Italians are used to disasters
... remember Vesuvius and Pompeii?  Of course, that was a whole city that
was buried– this was just a little crumbling wall.  However, I do not
want to get dirt on this fine shirt you lent me."  He took it off and hung
it on a bush.  Hassan removed his T-shirt and flung it on top of Mario's.

Shirtless in the hot sun they gazed fleetingly at each other's gleaming
body, then turned away abruptly and tried to ignore the bulge in their
pants.  A few minutes later they were hacking at the earth, digging out
dirt from the fold in the terrace.

High above, up at the main house, Steve and Lloyd were sunning by their
pool and Steve suddenly said, "Hey, Lloyd, get a look at that.  If that
doesn't get your dick hard nothing will.  They gazed down at the two
shirtless men, one in beltless blue jeans, the other in military fatigues,
their muscles rippling in the sunlight as they energetically wielded their
shovels.

The young Italian's classic features were set in concentration, his black
curly hair hanging over his brow.  The Marine's exotically handsome face
gleamed with sweat, his long black hair falling in his slanted eyes.
"Hell," Lloyd gasped, "you know those two studs have got to have boners
like rocks in their pants.  I sure do just looking at them."

"Well in that case come here and let me take care of it.  We shouldn't
watch them.  You know how Hassan is about his privacy.  Poor guy has his
fellow Marines drooling over him all day."

"Yeah, poor guy," Lloyd smiled lowering his swim trunks.

The laborers were unaware they were being watched, even by each other, as
they were both skilled at looking away the instant their eyes met, a common
phenomenon of men cruising each other that Bob once laughingly described as
the definition of a split second.

Still, as the work continued the men grew hotter, in every sense of the
word, and their cocks were pulsing in time to their hearts.  Manual labor
often made guys horny, as evidenced by Randy when he came roaring home from
work and jumped Bob.  They were working shoulder to shoulder now, and each
time their flesh touched they felt pre-cum oozing in their pants.

But still they hid their lust from each other, still unaware that it was
reciprocated by the other man.  Until...

They had been hacking away at the back of the terrace, loosening the earth,
and they came to a stubborn deeply embedded shrub that had to be removed.
Together they tugged at it, rocking it back and forth to loosen it.  Their
bare chests were almost touching and they could feel each other's sweat
spraying onto them as they jerked at the shrub.  Mario stumbled forward
slightly and he gasped as the bulge in his jeans brushed against the
Marine's crotch.

Up above by the pool Lloyd was face down on a chaise getting his ass fucked
by Steve.  He raised his head and stole a glance at the homoerotic scene
below of the two handsome laborers, stripped to the waist, one in jeans the
other in fatigues, their muscles straining with effort.  "Fucking
pornographic," he murmured.

But the shrub was finally coming loose and Hassan yelled, "Come on, almost
there.  Flex those muscles, stud ... together now ... one last heave..."
Each of them gazed at the other man's eyes, at the sweat running down his
face, at the veins popping in his neck and biceps.  And then, yielding to
their superior strength, the shrub gave up the fight and suddenly jerked
out of the ground.  "Yes!" Hassan yelled in triumph, but with the force of
the sudden release of the shrub he lost his balance and fell backward,
pulling Mario down with him.

The Marine landed on his back in the soft earth and Mario fell on top of
him.  His face thudded against Hassan's chest, his cheek on the metal of
his dog tags in the cleft between his pecs.  Mario's lips tasted the salt
taste of the soldier's sweat and he felt the heart beating under his check.
Consumed by sensual overload Mario finally lost all sense of decorum and
restraint.

He licked the cleft between Hassan's pecs, his nipples, up over the pulsing
veins in his neck, over the stubbled chin to his mouth.  His full, sensual
lips were slightly apart as Hassan breathed heavily.  The young Italian
inhaled the captain`s breath, threw his head back and howled, then clamped
their mouths together.  He slid his chest against Hassan's, pressed their
crotches together ... and uttered muffled screams as his cock exploded in
his jeans – a massive release of semen that had been building for hours.

Mario's body jerked and shuddered on top of Hassan, who lay still beneath
him in a state of mild shock at what had happened.  As semen drained from
Mario's cock, soaking his jeans, the real world came flooding back and, as
if waking from a dream, he was horrified by his realization of what he had
done.  He gazed down at Hassan's startled eyes ... eyes that seemed to him
to contain no trace of reciprocated desire.

Mario suddenly leapt to his feet and with a stammered, "I'm sorry, sir," he
turned and ran.  He scrambled over the slope of the terrace, up the hill
toward the guest house, desperate to just get away, be alone, and try to
block this whole humiliating episode from his mind.  But he heard sounds of
panting breath behind him and he knew Hassan was following him to berate
him, or worse, for his foolish actions.

He quickened his stumbling effort to escape but it was hopeless against the
Marine who had been trained to run in desert sand.  Hassan launched himself
forward, grabbed Mario's ankle and brought him crashing to the ground.  In
seconds he was on his knees straddling the scared young Italian.

"I'm sorry, sir," Mario stammered.  "I didn't mean ... I was just ... I
mean ... I got carried away.  I knew you didn't want it but you were so
incredibly hot I couldn't hold back.  I'll go away, sir, and leave you
alone ... that's what you want, I know."

"How the fuck do you know what I want?" said Hassan.  "You're batting zero
on that so far, pal.  I'm not mad at you for lusting for me – shit, most
guys do that.  I'm angry because you tried to run away ... from me, Hassan!
... a guy who's had a hard-on for you ever since I brought you up here and
watched you sleep on my bed.  Hell, I was so afraid you would want to leave
when you woke up that I almost tied you to the bed.  That would have turned
me on but would have scared you shitless so I didn't – I just hoped
you'd stick around.

"I'm angry with myself too.  Usually when I want something I just grab it,
but there was something about you that made me hold back ... I liked you
too much.  I wouldn't make a move unless I knew you wanted it, but it
seemed like you didn't.  Hell, you were scared to even make eye contact.
Well now you've shown me you want it ... and, boy, you're gonna get it.
No-one turns his back on this Marine.  It's just you and me up here, all
alone, and you're no match for me so you take what I dish out, is that
clear?"

"Yes, captain," Mario said, his cock already getting stiff as he looked
into the blazing eyes of the powerful Marine, with dirt streaked over his
bare chest.  He didn't know if Hassan's anger was real or where it would
lead, but he was in a pitch of excitement waiting to find out.

In a series of quick moves Hassan jumped to his feet, reached down and
grabbed Mario's wrist.  He pulled him up, threw him effortlessly over his
shoulder and walked into the house.

Up at the main house Steve and Lloyd had been watching while they fucked,
and had both shot their loads when Mario had howled and cum in his jeans.
Mesmerized, they watched events unfold and when Hassan marched into the
house with Mario slung over his shoulder Lloyd laughed, "Bingo – told
you so."

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

Hassan threw Mario on his back, where he lay staring up at the muscle-god
Marine towering over him.  "Godammit," Hassan growled, "I've wanted you
every time I've watched you working in the garden.  And when I got to know
you better here, especially when we worked together, I lusted for you even
more.  I knew exactly what I wanted to do but held back until now."

Mario didn't resist as Hassan spread-eagled his arms and legs on the bed.
At each of the four bedposts were lengths of rope that he used often on
Eddie, the boy's favorite thing.  Now, as he worked skillfully, Hassan
said, "It was you who brought up the memories from all those years ago in
the desert, when I chained up that beautiful blond American soldier,
tortured his magnificent body and fucked his ass.  You said you were not
into bondage and I knew right away I had to find out."

Hassan stood back and gazed down at the handsome Italian gardener,
shirtless in jeans and boots, spread-eagled in bondage, his muscular body
stretched and gleaming in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the
window blinds.

Mario pulled at his restraints and realized that he was tied tightly with
no way to escape.  He was completely at the mercy of this rugged Arab/Asian
Marine captain and a momentary jolt of panic spiked through him.  His fear
was stoked by not knowing whether Hassan's domination was real of
fantasized, or how far he would take it.  Reflexively he pulled again at
the ropes, his naked torso writhing, his square cut Latin features wincing
with effort as his head thrashed from side to side, his curly black hair
tossing wildly.

Hassan groaned, "Oh shit, man, that is fucking spectacular ... all those
times I've fantasized about it ... this is better than I ever imagined it
would be.  You are such a beautiful man and I love watching jocks like you
struggle in bondage."  Hassan ripped open his fatigues, pulled out his
huge, iron-hard cock and stroked it.

The sight of the exotic, dark skinned Marine pumping his cock, his muscles
rippling in the sunlight, made Mario struggle even more in mounting desire,
fear, and a desperate need to touch him, worship his body, touch his cock.

Hassan's eyes blazed down at the writhing body, at the washboard abs
flexing, narrow waist cinched by his beltless blue jeans.  "You're driving
me fucking crazy, man," Hassan said "... So fucking hot ... I gotta
... yeah ... oh fuck ...fuck ... Yeah..."  He stared wild-eyed at Mario's
face, pointed his cock at it, and blasted a stream of cum straight into it.

Semen poured over his face as the Italian struggled and moaned, his face
thrashing from side to side to avoid the torrent of liquid slamming into it
and into his tousled hair. He opened his mouth and swallowed hard until he
felt he was drowning in the soldier's bitter-sweet juice

When the flow stopped Mario closed his eyes and tried to recover, his heart
beating so hard he felt it would burst from his chest.  He felt liquid
dripping onto his face and opened his eyes to the sight of the soldier's
cock hanging out of his fatigues, cum still oozing from it.  He heard
Hassan's deep, accented voice – "Beautiful ... so fucking beautiful ..."
– and incredibly one last burst of semen splashed down on his chest.

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

The only sound in the room was their heaving breath as Hassan gazed down at
the young Italian, his flawless body spread-eagled on the bed with cum
flowing down his face, his neck and between the mounds of his chest.  Mario
watched in awe as the shirtless Marine stuffed his cock back in his
fatigues and zipped them up, then paced round the bed without taking his
eyes off Mario's cum-covered face.

"Man," Hassan said, "I guarantee you have never looked more beautiful than
you do now.  And best of all, you're helpless – at the mercy of a tough
Marine.  I can do what I like to you, boy, you understand that?"

"Si signore," Mario said compliantly.  "What are you going to do to me,
sir?"

"Like I said – whatever I want."  Hassan went to the kitchen and came
back with a beer that he opened, and sat sprawled in an armchair close to
the bed.  There was silence as Hassan drank from the bottler and stared at
the bound Italian gardener.  Stripped to the waist, his arms were stretched
upward and his shoulders bulged.  The ripped muscles in his chest and abs
flexed and his wide lats slanted down to a tight waist, blue jeans clinging
to his narrow hips.

Mario was in a daze, feeling like a sacrificial offering, chained to a slab
waiting while his captor decided how to use his body.  He tensed for sudden
action but instead he was surprised by the calmness of the Hassan's voice.

"That stuff we talked about – my time in the desert war interrogating
and torturing soldiers like Mark – not that there is anyone like Mark.
I did that under military orders and, like I said, I'm not proud of it.
But I still fantasize about the beauty of Mark chained to the wall.  It
left me with a taste for seeing handsome muscle-gods tied up like that, an
appetite that still needs to be fed.

"Zack once told me he has this thing about beauty.  When he sees it in a
man it can be so intense that it's painful.  It's as if the man is too
beautiful, so much that Zack has to own that beauty ... control it ... hurt
it.  Bob had that effect on him which is why, out in the dunes, Zack tied
him up, whipped him and fucked his ass.  And for that brief moment he owned
Bob and his beauty, and had one of the most spectacular orgasms of his
life.

"When I looked at you tied to the bed, so fucking gorgeous, I had to own
you too, had to put my mark on your beauty.  My balls were bursting so I
sprayed my jizz over that handsome face and perfect body.  And now here you
are, my prisoner, smothered with the juice of my manhood.  You will learn
to love it as Eddie loves it.  His story, too, is common knowledge.

"The boy was in a Marine recruiting video we were shooting.  He played a
wounded young soldier rescued by his captain, but when the shoot ended I
carried him away to my jeep as if the story were continuing and drove him
to my house in the desert.  I tied him as you are tied now and told him he
would become what I had once tried and failed to make Mark – my sex
slave.  It was a fantasy, of course, but the boy was very scared at first,
though he grew to love the sensation of being my prisoner forever, existing
only to serve me, to be my sexual plaything.

"And in a way that's what he became – but much else besides.  He became
my boy and he knows I love him deeply – his sense of mischief, his
devotion, everything about him.  He is never so happy than when he is tied
as you are now and he looks up at his Marine Captain with fear and
exhilaration – as you are doing now.

"So, you ask, what am I going to do to you?  You are another challenge,
quite different from Eddie.  You are the handsome young Italian, cool,
sophisticated, looking at the world with your European curiosity and
amusement.  And I am just a rough Marine Captain with a taste for bondage
and domination of beautiful men."  Hassan stood up and his voice took on a
rough edge.  "But the real difference between you and me is that you are my
prisoner.  For the next few hours I own you and your dark, handsome face
and beautiful body."

The captain took another gulp of beer and rubbed the back of his hand
roughly across his mouth.  He put the bottle down, jumped on the bed, and
knelt astride Mario's waist.

Another stab of fear pierced Mario as he looked up at the massively
handsome soldier, his naked torso flexing and gleaming in the striped
sunlight.  But it was the cold, hard look in his slanted eyes that scared
Mario and he instinctively tugged again at his bound wrists.

"Good," Hassan smiled, "I like to see a man struggle like that.  It makes
my dick hard."

Suddenly the soldier's arrogance offended Mario and he sneered,
"Vaffanculo."

Hassan's knowledge of Italian slang was good enough to know that he had
just been invited to `go fuck yourself,' and his reaction was swift.
"Defiance ... I like that too in a man such as yourself, but that is not
something you say to this Marine.  His eyes flashed and he squeezed Mario's
nipples hard, rolling them in his fingertips, even using his nails.

Mario's face grimaced in pain.  "Aaaagh ... no ... it hurts too much
... Stop!"

"You can do better than that, boy."

"Si ... si ... mi scusi ... I'm sorry, signore ... please, sir ... forgive
me."

The pain stopped immediately.  "Good," Hassan said more gently.  "Now we
understand each other."  He looked down at the tears running down Mario's
cheeks, mixing with Hassan's cum and streaking his face.  Hassan sighed.
"So beautiful ... amazing ... but we must not let such a handsome face be
sullied with semen and tears."

He leaned forward, pinned Mario's biceps to the bed, and licked his face,
cleaning it, sucking up the cum and salty tears.  Mario moaned in ecstasy,
with Hassan's dark-olive face up so close, feeling the warmth of his tongue
but also the residual pain in his chest.  His moans were stifled as Hassan
kissed him, grinding their lips together, probing with his tongue.

When he pulled back Mario was gasping, close to sobbing as he stared up at
the exotic face, the hypnotic eyes, overwhelmed with a rush of emotion and
pain.  But it was not the pain in his chest now – it was the pain Hassan
had described – the pain of beauty that could be healed only by
possession.  But this time it was a need not to possess but to be
possessed.  More than anything Mario wanted this man to own him, consume
him, do to him whatever he wanted.

With a faint smile he said, "I yield to you, sir.  My body is yours.  Do
with me as you will."

"Good, so we have reached that point.  I have no wish to hurt you, Mario,
but as my prisoner you must not insult me the way you did.  I am a
U.S. Marine Captain.  You must respect me and do exactly as I say –
capisce?

"Capisco, capitano.  I understand."

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

"First, let us see if you are telling the truth.  He eased back on his
knees until he was looking down at the bulge in Mario's jeans.  He ripped
them open and smiled with satisfaction at the long, rigid cock that sprang
out of them.  Yes, you were sincere, I see it.  Now you are ready for me to
work on you, to work on that beautiful body and mind and bend you to my
will."

He resumed his position kneeling over Mario's waist and said, "Now you will
see the power I have over you, boy.  You will resist but it will be futile.
I have learned that no one can resist me.

Again that arrogance!  Mario determined not to give in no matter how much
pain the soldier inflicted.  But there was no pain.  Quite the contrary.
Hassan reached forward to Mario's chest and he flinched in readiness for a
renewed onslaught in his nipples and more pain.  But there was nothing
... well, almost nothing ... just the faintest hint of something light as a
feather brushing over the tip of his nipples.

After the previous tit-torture they felt raw so that even the slightest
touch made him respond.  He braced again, but again all he felt was the
sensuous touch of the back of Hassan's fingers.  He moaned and his cock
pulsed as the erotic sensation spread from his chest throughout his body
and down to his balls.

Hassan was an expert and he used all the refined techniques of the
interrogator to torture a man to the brink of pain but cause instead only
exquisite torment of pleasure, frustration and the fear of imminent pain.
As the stroking of his nipples became more insistent Mario didn't care
about pain – he would have welcomed it, anything but this erotic teasing
of his nipples, bringing them alive, bringing his whole body alive.

"Aah ... aah ... he moaned, his head turning helplessly from side to side,
his chest flexing as he raised it up off the bed as high as possible trying
to press it against the fingers that were driving him wild.  "Please,
signore," he almost sobbed, "I can't take any more.  Please, squeeze them
... hard ... hurt me, torture my chest ..."

"But I am torturing you, Mario.  There are more subtle means of torture
than crude pain.  I told you I will bend you to my will.  And my will is to
watch you in the throes of ecstasy.  There is nothing more beautiful than
looking at a man as beautiful as you being tortured to the point of orgasm
and watching his face as he screams in the rapture of release.  I can make
a man beg, make him offer me anything to end the torture.  What will you
offer me, young man?"

"Anything ... Anything, sir.  Please ... my chest is on fire ... you can do
anything ... hurt me ... chain me to the wall and whip me as you did Mark
... fuck my ass, pound it ...but please, I beg you ... make me cum..."

Hassan smiled.  "For me that is easy.  I can make any man cum in an
instant.  Like this, for example..."

Suddenly he sat back on Mario's crotch so the butt of his military fatigue
pants touched the Italian's cock lying out of his open jeans.  Mario gasped
as he felt the Marine's ass press down harder until it was grinding against
his cock, but agonizingly separated from it by the rough fabric of the
pants.  He could feel the globes of the soldier's ass, feel his own cock
lying between them, but unable to feel his flesh.  It was like a
frustration dream where he was trying to fuck the soldier's ass but was
unable to penetrate.

"Aaagh ... no ..." he moaned in a delirium of torment – the fingers
stroking his nipples and the clothed ass grinding against his cock.  In a
daze he heard Hassan's lilting voice.  "And now I will make you cum as you
requested, my beautiful Italian."  His eyes fixed Mario's like lasers.  "Do
it now."

Suddenly the fingers squeezed the nipples savagely and Mario's screams
echoed round the room as he felt his cock explode under Hassan.  His body
writhed, muscles flexed and his tortured face thrashed from side to side,
grimacing in an ecstasy of pain and frustration.

Hassan stared down at him in awed disbelief.  "Spectacular ... one of the
most beautiful sights I have ever seen.  You have whetted my appetite as
never before.  I will make you cum again and again."

"No, please ... I've already cum twice since I've been here.  I can't cum
again."

Hassan smiled down at him.  "You seem to forget, young man – you are in
my power.  I can make you do anything."

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

"Now we will get down to business," Hassan said, and Mario watch spellbound
as the Marine untied and pulled off his boots, then dropped his pants and
stepped out of them, naked except for a khaki jockstrap.

"Aaah," Mario gasped at the pornographic sight of the tall, muscular
soldier prowling like a dark-skinned panther round the bed looking down at
his prisoner.  Hassan stroked the bulge in his jock as he stared down at
the cum-drenched body straining against its restraints, desperate for just
one touch of the near-naked solider.

"I need you hard again, boy," Hassan growled.

"No, not again," Mario gasped.  "My balls are drained.  I cannot ..."

"You will do as I say," the soldier barked.  "I told you, I can make a man
hard whenever I want."

Hassan stood at the the head of the bed behind the prisoner's face.  Mario
tilted his head back and stared wide-eyed at the inverted image of the
magnificent soldier – at the square-jawed face and blazing eyes, the
broad, rock-hard shoulders, his magnificent chest, naked except for the
metal dog-tags hanging between his pecs.  His eyes lowered over his ripped
eight-pack abs and his narrow waist circled by the waistband of the khaki
jock.

His heart beat faster as he looked at the bulging pouch of the jockstrap,
stained with man juices from the past, the head of his thick cock poking
over the top.  The muscled thighs flexed as he widened his stance, looming
over his captive.  Incredibly, Mario's cock was already stirring back to
life and Hassan said.  "Good, I knew you could not resist.  But I want it
iron hard."

Hassan fell forward over his body from behind his head.  He braced his
hands on the bed beside Mario's hips, his arms locked straight, his massive
body arched over him.  His biceps bulged, his pecs flexed, as he slowly
lowered himself over Mario in a series of shallow pushups.

Mario thought he would pass out as the bulging jock came down toward his
face, then pulled back, the lowered again, each time closer to his mouth,
which he instinctively opened wide.  He stretched out his tongue in a
desperate attempt to touch it, and once he did, for an instant, lick the
sweaty balls through the thin fabric, inhaling the pungent odor of the
swelling bulge.

Then suddenly Hassan fell on him and Mario screamed into the gag of the
stinking jock that filed his mouth.  Frantically he breathed in and almost
choked on the taste and smell of the soldier's sweat, old semen and dried
piss – the rancid essence of the rugged Marine.  He was close to
suffocating but he breathed through his nose and became accustomed to the
saliva-wet juices now trickling down his throat.

His cock was now almost hard when suddenly ... he screamed into the soaking
jock as he felt his cock plunging down the captain's throat.  The mouth
pulled back, then fell on his cock again.  Incredibly, this macho alpha
male, the rugged Marine, was sucking his cock!  The young Italian bucked
and writhed, trying desperately to free his hands and his mouth as he
choked on the stinking rag covering the soldier's cock and balls.

He felt pre-cum oozing from his cock into Hassan's mouth and strained to
cum but, although his cock was shuddering, his jizz was not ready for
release as he had shot a massive load only minutes before.  His mind was
starting to go blank, darkness overcoming him ... when suddenly it all
stopped.

Hassan pulled back and sprang to his feet on the bed, astride the
struggling captive.  "Now you are hard – and I am going to make you cum
yet again."

"No, sir, I don't think I can ... I know I can't ... I ... Aaagh...!!"  He
howled in disbelief as Hassan bent his knees ... and sat hard on Mario's
cock, letting it slide deep inside his ass.  The Marine's body shuddered,
he howled and his black hair flew as his head jerked back in a convulsion
of pain.  He raised up, clear of the cock, then plunged down on it again.

Mario's own body thrashed and his cock was on fire as he gazed up
spellbound by the sight of the soldier impaling himself on his cock, his
muscular body naked except for his wet jockstrap clinging to his cock and
balls.

Hassan linked his hands behind his head, his entire body flexed and his
screams echoed round the room as he rose and fell hard on his prisoner's
rod.  Mario had never seen anything as homoerotic as the muscle-god Marine
torturing his own ass just as he tortured Mario's cock.

He felt his cock bursting as it drove again and again into the cauldron of
Hassan's ass, and this time there was no more holding back.  Mario's cock
was not his own – he himself was not his own.  He belonged to the
Marine.  Just as Mark, chained and tortured, had fallen in love with his
captor, so now did the captive Italian.  His body jerked, his head tossed
and his screams joined Hassan's as his cock erupted yet again, this time in
the fiery depths of the soldier's ass.

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

But Hassan did not cum.  Instead, when Mario had emptied his load, the
soldier reared up like a wounded stallion, pulled his ass off the cock and
sprang to his feet off the bed.  A man obsessed, he quickly untied the
ropes from Mario's ankles, took off his work boots then pulled his jeans
down over his feet and flung them aside.  Hassan's chest heaved and his
eyes blazed down at the naked young jock streaked with sweat and semen, his
hands still bound above him.

By this time, overwhelmed with emotion, Mario lay sobbing on the bed in
total surrender.  Hassan pulled off his jock and Mario gasped as he saw,
for the first time that day, the Marine's cock springing out, massive and
hard as a rock.

"See this, boy?" he growled, grabbing his cock in his fist.  "This is what
Mark felt in that desert cell.  Just like you he was sobbing in surrender,
hanging limply from his chains, exhausted from my working him over.  He
looked so magnificent that I had to do it.  I had to fuck his ass ... just
as I have to fuck yours."

He knelt on the bed and pushed Mario's legs high in the air.  "I remember
the agonized look on Mark's face as he looked up at me hollow-eyed and
begged me to fuck him.  And you, Mario, will do the same."  He pressed the
head of his steel rod against Mario's hole, pulled back and pressed again,
teasing him into submission.  Mario waited for the cock to enter him,
waited for the ecstatic feeling of the soldier's massive rod filling his
ass.  But it didn't come.

"Please, sir," he sobbed.  "Please ... I need it so bad.  I need to feel
your cock inside me.  Please, captain ... please fuck me ... fuck me
... fuuuck me.  Aaah!"  He sighed deeply as he felt the Marine's cock enter
him at last and sink slowly down his chute into the depths of his ass.
"Aaah," he sighed again, "thank you sir ... it feels so good."

"You're right," Hassan smiled.  He pulled Mario's legs over his shoulders,
reached forward and quickly untied his wrists.  Smiling into his eyes
Hassan said, "You knew it would all come down to this, my friend.  I knew
it even as I pulled you from the rubble of that wall and you smiled up at
me.  That is why I suggested you come up here.  For so long I have wanted
to fuck the handsome Italian gardener and that was my chance."

It was a long, slow, loving, affectionate fuck.  Mario reached up and ran
his hands over the slabs of the soldier's pecs as the dog tags swung
between them.  His hands strayed up to his neck, then up over his face,
tracing the contours of the sculpted features – the square, stubbled
jaw, the high cheekbones and forehead – and ran his fingers through his
tousled black hair.

"Bellissimo," Mario breathed.  "So beautiful."

Hassan rested his palms on Mario's chest and said, "I love to feel your
muscles rippling under my hands.  Man, my cock feels so good in your ass.
He dropped his hands to the bed, leaned forward and kissed his eyes, his
cheeks and his lips in a building embrace.  Then he pulled back and smiled.
"How many times have you cum, my friend?  Three is it?  Well now you have
to cum one more time."

"I know, sir," Mario said softly, "and this time there will be no problem.
As soon as I feel your juice pouring into my ... aaah ... aaah ... yesss
..."  He felt Hassan's cock shudder inside him, felt the warm juice bathing
his ass, and Mario's cock erupted one last time, spurting juice upward,
splashing on the soldier's heaving chest.

At last they were both spent and Hassan lowered himself onto Mario's
cum-slicked body. He pressed their faces together and Mario smiled.
"Capitano, you are a very sexy man.  That was mind-blowing
... spetacollare."

"If that means what I think it means, amico, I have to agree.  And there's
more to come, I hope.  Now close your eyes.  We shall sleep for a while."

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

About an hour later Mario got up to pee, then he pulled on a pair of black
briefs and went outside to stretch his limbs and take a few deep breaths,
to regroup and clear his mind after the overwhelming experience he had just
lived through with Hassan.

He was gazing over the hills when he heard footsteps on the gavel path
behind him.  He turned to see Eddie scrambling down the slope.  He had come
directly from work at the bungalow, eager to be with Hassan and hoping
Mario was still there.  Remembering Hassan's command, he had not cleaned up
and he now appeared just as he had left the construction site – covered
in dirt t and still wearing his sweaty T-shirt, cargo shorts and work
boots.

Mario smiled as he watched him stumble closer, his eager young face
smothered in plaster dust.  His heart went out to him and, having just
lived an incredible fantasy with the Marine captain, Mario seized the
chance of luring Eddie into another.

He faced Eddie severely and said, "Who are you?"

Eddie stopped in confusion and his cock stiffened as he stared at the
handsome Italian, stripped down to black briefs and with very rumpled hair.
What was going on?

He soon found out as Mario grabbed his T-shirt by the back of the neck and
hauled him into the house.  "Hey, captain, look what I found outside
... this!"  He held Eddie disdainfully at arm's length, too filthy to get
close.

Lying naked on his back on the rumpled bed sheets, Hassan pulled himself
up, leaned back on his elbows and said, "What the hell?"  He caught the
amused look in Mario's eye and grimaced at the boy.  "What's that you got
there?  Is there a kid under all that grime?"

"Reckon so," Mario grinned.  "He's pretty filthy though ... you want me to
throw him out?"

"Nah, wait a minute.  Let me check him out."  Hassan got to his feet and
Eddie stood watching the naked soldier pace round him, his long, thick cock
swinging between his muscled thighs. Eddie's own cock reared up in his
shorts.

It was not only the sight of these two gorgeous men, it was the room
itself, with the rumpled sheets, clothes and boots scattered over the floor
and ropes hanging loosely round all four bedposts.  And the smell, the
rancid odor of semen that hung thick in the air.  Obviously this was the
scene of some serious sex and Eddie's fertile mind raced trying to picture
it.

Hassan said, "Hold his arms behind him – don't want him trying to
escape."  He yanked at the boy's T-shirt and ripped the neck.  "You some
kind of laborer, boy?"

"Yes, sir," Eddie stammered in confusion.  "Just came from the construction
site."

"Good – you might be just what we need.  Hey Mario, we still got work to
finish down on that terrace.  Maybe we can put this grunt to work.  And if
we feel horny he could service us – reckon he's good for a blow job or
two."

"At least," the Italian grinned salaciously.  "Great idea.  Hey, afterwards
maybe we can clean him up and keep him around.  He can clean this mess in
the house and cook dinner for us.  He'd be a kind of house boy and sex toy
for us – we can share him.  We may have to tie him to the bed to stop
him running away, but that's OK `cos we can work him over.  What d'ya
think?"

"Hmm, let's see if he's up to it.  OK let him go.  Turn round, boy –
let's see your ass.  Eddie turned his back to Hassan who cupped his ass
cheeks through his shorts, then slapped them a few times, making him gasp.
He spun the boy round and said, "Flex your bicep."  Eddie obeyed and the
Marine ran his hand over his bicep then over his ragged T-shirt feeling his
hard young body underneath.

He ripped the shirt a bit more to expose his nipples underneath, and
squeezed them in his fingers.  "Good, tight body, but you think you're
tough enough to serve two masters, boy?"

"Yes, sir ... I can, sir."  Eddie quivered with excitement and his cock
pulsed at the thought of being treated as a houseboy and sex object by the
macho soldier and his hot Italian buddy.  "We can get pretty rough," Hassan
growled – like this..."  He squeezed his tits harder, grinding them in
his fingers.  "Aaah," Eddie moaned, staring at the naked solider. "Oh fuck
... no ... fuck, I ... aaagh.  His body jerked violently, then became
still, his breath coming in ragged sobs.

"I'm sorry, sir.  I didn't mean to..."

Hassan stood back and folded his arms across his chest.  "Well, look what
we got here."  He grinned down at the big wet patch spreading over the
crotch of Eddie's shorts, and soon a thick white liquid started running
down his leg.  "Is that jism, boy?"  Hassan reached down and touched it,
then licked his fingertips and said, "Yup, sure tastes like jizz to me.
What d'ya think buddy?"  Mario licked Hassan's fingers and agreed.  "Yeah,
that's cum alright."

"Shit damn," Hassan laughed.  "The kid busted his load just by looking at
me while I squeezed his fucking tits.  Now this here's a boy we can use."
Unseen by Eddie he winked at Mario.  "OK, buddy, let's put him to work."

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

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 255

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!