Date: Thu, 25 Aug 2011 02:33:54 -0400 (EDT)
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: A TRIAL OF STRENGTH  - Part 41   by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 41
By Rob Williams


IN THIS CHAPTER

   The guys take three separate trips.  Mark and Jamie to a shack in the
dunes, where Jamie's visual fantasies of the cop become real.  Randy and
Pablo celebrate the adoption by going fishing ... plus a few things fathers
and sons never do.  Bob takes Darius to a secret place.  "Kid, I'm gonna
show you things, tell you a story that'll send your fantasy meter into
overload."


As I always say, guys, I welcome your comments and suggestions.  They can
be very helpful.  E-mail me at rw6789@aol.com.  Now read on ... and enjoy.

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

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - Part 41

The rehearsal was not going well.  "Come on, guys," Bob pleaded as laughter
rang round the dinner table.  "This is serious."

Perhaps it was all the beer they had drunk.  More likely it was the
raucous, crazy mood they were in.  All six guys were looking forward to the
coming weekend when they would pair off and go on various trips ... Randy
and Pablo to the lake for some fishing, Mark and Jamie up the coast to a
shack in the dunes, and Bob and Darius to some mysterious destination in
town.

Whatever the reason, they were in no mood for some dumb role-playing
rehearsal.  But Bob had insisted.  The next day Randy and Pablo would be
appearing in family court to finalize Randy's adoption of the young man.
"My buddy in the legal department says it's a slam dunk ... just a
formality," Bob had said.  "However, he does say you should look
respectable, wear a jacket and tie."

Despite Randy's protests about this, Bob suggested they go over some of the
points the judge was likely to raise.  His friend in legal had provided a
list.  Hence the session around the table ... which was going nowhere.  Bob
was playing the role of judge.  Mark, Darius and Jamie were observers.

"Now listen up."  Bob cleared his throat and turned his judge-like
attention to Randy.  "Sir, I have to ensure that you are financially sound.
Is your construction company a going concern?"

"Shit yeah," Randy said.  "Provided the asshole customers pay their fucking
bills on time.  My guys work damn hard.  Otherwise I whip their fucking
asses ... your honor."

There was a howl of laughter and Darius banged on the table.

"Wrong answer," said Bob.  "You have to eliminate all the `shits', `fucks',
`damns' and `assholes' from your vocabulary."

"Fat chance.  Put a gag on me then, why don't you?  And don't take that
literally, asshole."  Again, shrieks of laughter.

In frustration Bob turned to Pablo.  "Young man.  You are twenty-one, an
adult, so why do you want this man to be your adoptive father?"

"Hell, just look at him, your honor," Pablo replied.  That face, that body,
who wouldn't want to be owned by him?  Besides, if I say no he'll beat the
crap out of me."

"Good answer, dude" yelled Darius to more howls of laughter.

Bob glowered.  "I'm gonna give this one last shot."  Addressing Randy,
"Sir, what is it about this young man that makes you want to adopt him?"

"None of your damn business!"  Then, on Bob's glare, "OK, OK.  Let's see.
What is it about him?  Kid, stand up.  Show his honor your ass."  Pablo
turned round and stuck his ass in the air.  "I think that speaks for itself
... your honor.  He's a sensational fuck."

The room fell apart and Bob had to join in.  He lost it and tears of
laughter streamed down his face.

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

As it turned out the next day Randy and Pablo were on their best behavior
and their court appearance was a breeze.  The assigned judge turned out to
be a woman and Pablo charmed her with his cheeky, sideways grin.  "The
adoption is approved.  Good luck gentlemen."

The celebration at home was as boisterous as the aborted rehearsal had
been.  Randy laughed, "The judge was crazy about Pablo.  Shit, the kid
could charm the birds out of the trees."  The outdoor revelries went late
into the night.  When they decided to call it quits Randy turned to Pablo
to say goodnight.  Suddenly the mood became serious, nervous almost, as the
two men looked at each other in silence.  Here they were at last, adoptive
father and son.

Finally Pablo smiled shyly and said simply, "Thank you, sir."

"No sweat, kiddo."  Another embarrassed silence.  "We'll talk.  Sleep well,
kid," and he walked back to the house with Bob.

Later, in bed, Darius gave Pablo a serious look and asked, "So how're you
feeling, dude?"

Pablo frowned.  "I dunno.  It's kinda weird.  I mean, he's my dad.  I'm not
sure.  Maybe all I wanted was for him to fuck me, and now ..."

"Bullshit," said Darius.  "You and Randy go a lot deeper than that and you
know it.  And he'll still fuck you.  With that ass of yours it's a pretty
safe bet.  Just wait for that trip to the lake."

Pablo smiled.  "Thanks, man.  I guess you're right.  By the way, has Bob
told you where he's taking you yet?"

"Somewhere local is all he'll say.  But I have a feeling it's gonna be a
wild trip."

"What did he tell you?"

"I remember his words exactly.  `Young man, I'm gonna take you somewhere
and show you something I've never shown anyone before.  And I'm gonna tell
you a story that'll send your fantasy meter into overload ... stoke your
imagination for years to come.'  Also, he said the story's true."

"Wow."  The thought turned Pablo on.  "Speaking of fantasies, and my ass,
how about you take first crack at it, so to speak?" and he turned over on
his stomach.

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

Friday came.  Randy and Pablo were due to leave that evening; the others
would leave the next day. Pablo was already home from work when he heard
Randy's truck pull up.  Randy came through the gate and he smiled as he saw
Pablo, smartly dressed in clean jeans and a tight, sexy polo shirt.  He was
touched that the kid had dressed up for the trip.

"You look great, kid.  But don't expect me to change.  I'm going like
this," as he stood there in his greasy old tank top, work pants and boots.

"Wouldn't have it any other way, sir."

Randy came up behind Pablo and put his hands over his eyes.  Pushing him
forward he said, "Come with me kid.  I've got something for you."

They stood beside the truck with Randy's hands still covering Pablo's eyes.
"You ready, "kid?"  He pulled his hands away and Pablo gasped.  There in
the flatbed of the truck was a rowboat ... oars, tackle and all.

"Wow?"

"Think of it as a kind of graduation present.  Hey, you can't go fishing
without a boat.  Picture it, kid, you and me in the middle of the lake, all
alone."

"I am picturing it," Pablo said.  "You wouldn't believe the picture I see,"
and there was the cheeky grin again.

"I'm way ahead of you, kid."

With a quick round of goodbyes father and son were off.  As always Randy
drove fast and they were soon out of the city on the Angeles Crest Highway
climbing up to the Angeles National Forest and Randy's secret spot on the
lake.  Billy, the Doberman, was fast asleep on the back seat.

But the atmosphere in the truck was oddly subdued.  They spoke hardly at
all and there was almost a kind of coolness between them.  Their dynamic
had changed.  There was, as always between them, a sexual charge in the
air, but the thought of it was now kind of weird somehow.  They were, after
all, father and son now, even if only by adoption.  Pablo especially was
uneasy.

The silence grew heavier as they drove along the deserted highway.
Suddenly Randy put on the brakes and pulled the truck over to a stop on the
side of the road.  He switched off the engine and there was silence.  Pablo
looked over at the dark, stubbled face expectantly.  It happened quickly.
Randy looked him straight in the eyes, put his hand behind Pablo's head,
pulled it toward him and their mouths came together.

Randy kissed the young man ravenously.  They ground their lips together,
tongues searching deep inside each other's mouth as they breathed into each
other.  Randy's passion built as his mouth explored every inch of Pablo's
face ... his cheeks, his neck, his brow and finally bathing his eyes.

Pablo's cock was rock hard.  He was drowning in the man, intoxicated by the
male smell of his sweat, his taste, the feeling of his warm, wet mouth
covering his face and the rough, stubbled chin grinding against him.  They
locked their lips again and the virile, passionate embrace seemed endless.

Suddenly Randy pulled back.  Without a word he turned to look straight
ahead at the road, started the engine and, with a squeal of wheels, sped
back onto the highway, as if nothing had happened.  Pablo was dumbfounded,
breathless.  He too looked straight ahead, his mind spinning.  The man was
incredible, stunning.  Then he heard Randy's deep voice.

"I am gonna fuck you, you know."

"I know, sir."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a trace of a smile on Randy's glorious
face.  And from that point on there was no coolness at all between them.
Far from it.

On the back seat Billy stirred in his sleep, twitching and grunting, lost
in some canine fantasy of his own.

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

Early next morning Mark and Jamie were almost ready to leave the house,
both dressed very casually in jeans and T-shirts.  They had loaded the
truck with food and supplies as Mark knew there would be minimal stuff in
the shack.  For this reason he had decided to take the truck, not the
Harley.

"Just a minute," Jamie said and ran back into the house.  He came back with
a plastic bag that he held out shyly.  "I just got my first paycheck from
work, so I bought you a present, sir.  If that's OK."

"Sure it is, kid.  Sure it is."  Mark smiled, moved by Jamie's shy gesture.
He opened the bag and pulled out ... a black tank top.  He shook it open."

"This is great, Jamie. "  He looked at Jamie's shining eyes.  "You want me
to put it on now?"

"Please, sir."

Mark took off his old T-shirt and pulled the black tank over his head and
down over his muscular torso.  "How's it look?"

Jamie gaped.  "Wow.  Better than I ever imagined.  I got an extra-large,
sir.  I hope that's OK."

"It's a bit snug but I guess you planned it that way."

"Kind of."  Jamie admired the way the shirt clung to the sculpted chest and
accentuated the cop's muscular shoulders and arms.  "It looks tremendous,
sir."

"That's it, then." Mark laughed.  "Guess I'll have to wear it the whole
trip.  Never know who we might meet."

In little over an hour they were speeding north on Coast Highway.  Jamie
could not remember being happier than this.  He was with the man he
worshipped, the glorious cop who, only a week earlier, had fucked him for
the first time in his life.

Mark slung his arm across Jamie's shoulder, steering with his left hand,
and glanced at the youngster.  "Explain something you said back there when
I put the tank top on.  `Better than I ever imagined.'  What did you mean?"

Jamie blushed deeply.

"Come on, kid.  Do I have to order you to tell me?'

"No, sir.  Sorry, sir.  It's just that I ... Well, soon after I first met
you I ..."

"Keep going, kid.  No secrets."

"Well, sir."  It came out in a rush.  "When I was alone in my room, in bed,
I imagined you wearing a black tank like that and it made my ... well I got
kind of excited and I ...

" ... beat your meat fantasizing about it," Mark completed his sentence.

"Yes, sir."  Jamie looked surprised.  "How did you guess?"

Mark smiled.  "Not the first time something like that's happened.  Did you
shoot your load?"

"Oh, yes, sir.  Lots of times."

"Good."  Mark had a satisfied smile on his face.

They drove on in silence.  Mark concentrated on the road but out of the
corner of his eye he saw Jamie glance sideways at him, his hand resting on
his crotch.  Furtively the young man stroked the bulge in his pants.

Still looking straight ahead Mark said, "You can do it, you know.  I don't
mind."

Jamie blushed again and quickly withdrew his hand.

"Look.  You know me by now, Jamie.  I like guys getting off on me.  I like
having my ego stroked, my vanity piqued.  Especially by hot young studs
like you.  So go right ahead."

Emboldened now Jamie slid his hand back down and began to unbutton his
pants.  He pulled out his dick that was hard as a rock.  He turned and
leaned with his back against his door, now looking straight at the big cop.
Mark still concentrated on the road ahead, as if he was unaware of what was
happening.  This indifference excited Jamie even more.  He was a secret
voyeur.

He stroked his cock as he gazed at the stunning cop.  In profile the face
was indeed like a Greek god, unruly blond hair falling over his brow,
square jaw slightly clenched in concentration.  The blank tank stretched
tightly over his hard chest, the bulge of his shoulders gleamed in the
sunlight and his arms flexed as he gripped the steering wheel.

`He's magnificent,' Jamie thought to himself.  He gazed intently at the
beautiful man, running his eyes all over the muscular body.  Jamie's
breathing became ragged.  He was intoxicated by this incredible icon, this
fantasy that he had dreamed about. But now it wasn't a late-night image, it
was the real thing, the man himself was right there, dressed as Jamie had
wanted.

He couldn't hold back.  His cock was pulsing now and there was nothing he
could do to hold back the juice rising from his balls.  He took one last
intake of breath and shot his load.  His cum shot forward in a long stream,
splashing on the new black tank top that had been his gift to the cop. The
thick white juice covered the muscular shoulder and ran down over the bicep
and forearm, dripping down onto the cop's jeans.

Breathlessly Jamie looked wild-eyed, scared almost at what he had done.
There was a slight smile on Mark's face as he concentrated hard on the
road.  In the ensuing silence Jamie even began to wonder if Mark would
react at all, but then he heard the deep voice.

"Thanks, kid.  That was great."

Jamie relaxed and smiled too.  "Sorry about the shirt, sir.  It was new."

"No sweat, kiddo.  Guess I'll just have to wear it like this the whole
trip.  But cast your eyes a bit lower.

Jamie knew immediately what Mark meant.  He looked down and saw the big
bulge in his pants.

"What you gonna do about that, boy?"

Jamie knew exactly what to do.  He reached over and ripped open the fly.
The cock shot out, hard as iron.  Jamie leaned down, brought his lips to
the big head and slid his mouth slowly over the rigid shaft.  He didn't
pause.  His head went lower until the cock came to rest deep inside his
throat.  Jamie heard the big cop groan with pleasure.

Then Jamie went to work.  His head rose up and down like a piston, gripping
the big rod in his mouth as it plunged into his throat.  His face crashed
again and again against the cop's crotch, his nose buried in the moist
pubic hair, in the pungent smell of sweat.

From the outside motorists were aware only of a truck speeding north on
Coast Highway, the hills on the right, shimmering in the heat, and the
waves of the Pacific Ocean on the left crashing on the beach only yards
away.  There was nothing remarkable about the truck, except for an
occasional slight wobble as the driver lost concentration for a second.

But inside the cab things had reached a pitch and the driver was moaning.
Steering with his left hand, Mark put his right hand on the back of Jamie's
head, grabbed the hair and forced the head up and down on his cock.
"That's it, boy, you fucking beautiful stud.  God, your mouth feels good on
my dick.  Work it man.  Take your master's cock all the way down your
throat ... Oh, God.  Make me shoot my load, man.  Drink my juice, boy.
Here it comes ...

As the scream bounced off the walls of the cab Jamie felt hot liquid
pouring into his mouth and down his throat.  He gulped hard and gloried in
the taste of his master's semen as it flowed inside him.  He finally
pressed his face down hard, with the draining cock now still, deep in his
throat.  He didn't want to move.  But finally he pulled back reluctantly
and felt the cock slide all the way out of his mouth.  There was a silence
in the truck as both men regained their breath.

Then Mark spoke.  "You know, young man, what you just did was illegal.
Distracting a driver operating a moving vehicle.  If a police officer had
seen that he'd have hauled your ass off and punished you.  If a cop had
been there, you'd be in real trouble.  You might want to think about that."

Jamie grinned.  "I will, sir"

And he did.  He was still thinking about it when they arrived at the dunes.

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

Bob and Darius were the last ones to leave the house for the weekend.
There was no hurry, Bob had said.  They didn't have far to drive.  Not far
at all.  Bob had told Darius what to wear and he appeared in old jeans,
boots and an unwashed old tank top.

"It stinks a bit," Darius said.

"Just as it should," said Bob mysteriously.  He was wearing jeans and boots
too, and a denim shirt over a white tank top.  In the Southern California
furnace heat of the early afternoon he was already sweating through the
shirt.  That too was just as it should be, he thought.

Darius's body was already tingling with anticipation as he climbed into the
SUV beside the muscular businessman.  He had no idea where they were going
... and it took him no time at all to find out.  He had settled in for a
long drive so he was amazed when after only fifteen minutes Bob pulled the
truck over to the curb at the shabby end of Hollywood Boulevard.  There
seemed to be nothing there except seedy apartment buildings and a small
run-down bar that had seen better days.

Darius saw Bob gaze up at the flashing `Cocktails' sign, lost in
thought. Darius cleared his throat.  "Er ... are we going in there, sir?"

Bob jerked his mind back to the present.  "Yes we are kid.  You ready for
our journey?"

"Yes, sir."  Darius was excited ... and a bit nervous.  It was as if Bob
had entered another world.  Actually he had.

They got out of the truck and walked through the flapping leather strips
covering the door of the bar.  Coming from the glare of the sun, they
entered total blackness.  They stood just inside the door waiting for their
eyes to adjust to the gloom.  Darius heard Bob say, almost to himself,
"Yeah, that's exactly how it was."

Finally, as their eyes adjusted, Bob asked, "What do you see, kid?"

Darius blinked. "Not much ... mostly empty.  Couple of guys over by the
wall.  And two empty stools at the bar."

"Yeah ..."  Bob seemed lost again.  After a long silence he shook his head
as if to clear it.  "Tell me, Darius.  Did you ever wonder how Randy and I
first met ... where it was?"

"Lots of times, sir.  None of us could ever work that out ... what really
happened."  He looked at Bob and watched a smile spread over his face.
Darius's eyes grew wide.

"It was here, sir.  Wasn't it?  It was here."  Bob didn't answer; his gaze
was riveted on the bar stools.  Darius guessed.  "On those very stools."

As if in a trance Bob walked toward the bar.  Darius followed him and had
no idea why his own cock was getting hard.  Bob sat down, Darius took the
other stool and Bob began his story.

"It was a blazing hot afternoon, just like today.  I had just broken up
with my wife in San Francisco and was driving down to Mexico to get away
from it all.  I pulled off the Hollywood Freeway for a quick breather.  The
afternoon heat was like a furnace.  I walked into the bar, exactly as we
did just now."

"The stool you're sitting on was occupied by a big mother-fucker of a guy,
muscular, dark curly hair, rugged, handsome looks, a week's stubble on his
chin.  Judging by his filthy, sweaty clothes he was some kind of
construction worker.  Just then ..."

"Hey handsome."  A woman's voice broke into his reminiscence.  "Don't I
know you?  You've been in here before."

Bob looked up.  It was Sheila, the voluptuous bartender.  So she still
worked here.

"You were with that construction guy, Randy, weren't you?  Often wondered
what happened to that big stud.  Jeez, he was one hell of a man.  We had
some great times."

Bob smiled.  "You're right.  I was here before.  Randy and I now live
together."

Sheila frowned, her mind working overtime, putting two and two together and
coming up with six or more.  "OK," she said slowly.  Then, recovering her
bartender tone.  "So what'll it be guys?  Two beers?"

The two guys drank a lot just as Bob and Randy had done, and Bob resumed
his story.

"Randy and I got pretty drunk.  I was too drunk to drive s so I asked if
there was a place I could sleep for a while in my car.  But Randy said,
hell, why not crash for a few hours in his motel room.  The construction
outfit had put him up there while he was in town for two months.  He was
here from El Paso ... his wife was still back there.  He thought she was
probably having an affair with another guy.  That didn't seem to trouble
him any.  Anyway, we left."

Bob and Darius drained their last beer, stood up and headed for the door. A
voice behind them shouted, "So long, big guy.  And tell Randy to stop by if
he ever wants to have a little fun again.  I'm always here."

"Will do, Sheila."

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

The sun hit them in the face like a hammer.  They started to sweat again as
Bob continued to talk.

"So we left the bar and walked a short block to ..."

His voice trailed off as he looked up at the run-down motel they had come
to.  His eyes seemed to glaze over and Darius couldn't miss the bulge
growing at the crotch of Bob's jeans.  Bob breathed, almost to himself,
"Room 14."

He went into the motel office and after a few minutes emerged with a key.
Darius followed him to the door of room 14, its faded brown paint cracked
and peeling.  They went into the squalid, messy room and Bob stood still.
"Jesus.  Oh, God.  This was it."  As if in a trance he continued his story.

"He threw himself on the bed.  I sat in this chair and closed my eyes.
Randy laughed and said I wouldn't get much sleep there, but I could join
him as the bed was big enough for two.  So I did."

Darius lay down on the bed, still dressed in his sweaty tank top and old
jeans, as Randy had been.  Bob took of his denim shirt, kicked of his old
boots, pulled off his socks and jeans.  Stripped down to his sweat-stained
tank top and white boxers he lay down and closed his eyes.

The young man was rigid with excitement.  He had always worshipped Bob, his
beauty, his rugged, alpha maleness, and his kindness.  But this was a Bob
he didn't know.  This was the slave, the man who had been broken in this
very room, in this bed.  And he was lying beside him, as Randy had done all
that time ago.

There was a long, long silence and Darius began to think that Bob had
fallen asleep.  Then, suddenly, Bob began to moan softly and came closer to
Darius.  He touched him then put a leg over his and ended up with his head
on Darius's chest.  He spoke as if in a dream.  "I was dreaming of Sheila
... of fucking her.  We were having a ball and I ended up like this, on
Randy with a huge boner in my shorts."

Darius almost stopped breathing.  There was another long silence, then
Darius gasped as Bob came alive and sprang up off the bed.  His eyes were
blazing.  "Randy was like a wild animal.  I'll never forget his words, `You
fucking pervert!  Faggot!  You were coming on to me, shithead.  Me!  You
didn't tell me you were a fag.  Look at this,' and he slapped the bulge in
my shorts."

Bob pulled the belt out of his discarded jeans.  "Then he used this."

Darius was wide-eyed.  "What did he do with it, sir?"

"I'll show you."

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

A few minutes later Bob was lying on the bed spread eagled, his wrists and
ankles stretched out toward the bed posts.  Darius was standing astride him
holding the belt.  But etched in Bob's memory was not Darius but the angry,
sweating construction worker.

"He had me tied down, helpless. As he looked down at me I saw fury in his
eyes ... but something else too ... admiration.  Then the punishment
began."  Without thinking Darius ripped the tank from Bob's chest and
raised the belt.  He brought it down lightly on the straining, muscular
body, lash after lash.

Darius was used to fantasies but he was now in a world he had never
experienced.  He was assuming the role of the man who had punished, whipped
and broken this glorious alpha male.  As Bob moaned, lost in vivid flashes
of memory, Darius was amazed to see the suffering man's cock rise and
become rock hard.

Bob closed his eyes and murmured, "The punishment was relentless.  He never
let up.  He whipped me, punched me, tortured my nipples, put a collar round
my neck.  All I was aware of was the pain and the sight of this incredible
man, like the devil himself."

He opened his eyes.  He was seeing Randy.  "As our eyes met, for a fleeting
moment, a spark flashed between us, the look that we later came to
recognize, to welcome.  It bound us together forever."  He winced as the
memories intensified.  "But then the punishment continued.  After the pain
came the degradation."

Mesmerized, Darius said softly, "Show me, sir.  Show me what happened.  I
want to see."

His muscles gleaming with sweat the near naked man got off the bed and
Darius followed him into the bathroom.  Bob sat down on the toilet and put
his arms behind his back.  "He tied my hands to the pipe behind me.  He
cursed at me, yelled obscenities.  He said there was only one way I could
stop the pain.  I could beg.  So I begged.

Bob closed his eyes, lost in the past.  Vividly he remembered Randy
towering over him.  "OK, sir.  You've beaten me.  I'm finished.  Now I'm
begging you.  Do want you want with me.  Please, sir ... piss on me.  I
need it.  I'm begging you, sir.  Let me feel it."

Trembling, Darius held his cock in his hand and pointed it at the beautiful
face.  His bladder was full with all the beer he had drunk and now he
emptied it.  His hot piss streamed out and hit the prisoner's forehead, the
closed eyes, ran down the chin, over the muscular chest and stomach.  The
stinking urine poured out of him like a raging river, soaking the
shuddering man, his straining muscles gleaming in the low bathroom light.

His eyes were still shut tight, the image etched sharply in his memory, as
he recalled the words he had uttered that night.  "Thank you, sir.  Let me
drink your piss, sir.  Let me be your slave.  I need to be with you, sir.
You're my master."

Darius was beside himself as he looked down at the gorgeous, shattered man,
gazed at exactly the same magnificent spectacle that Randy had seen that
night.  The sight was too much for the young black man.  His cock was rigid
and it took only a few strokes to bring his climax.  His cum gushed out and
splashed on the broken man, mingling with the piss that still poured down
his body.

Bob felt the hot liquid, smelled the sharp, sweet smell of semen and
reached forward to his own rigid cock.  He did not even need to stroke it.
He leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, and his orgasm was
instantaneous.  His own fountain of cum erupted all over his body and he
screamed in the euphoria of the memory of that night.

His mind's eye saw his lover as he had seen him that first time, saw again
the vivid, glorious image of his master, the powerful, dark demon, the man
who changed his life.  He moaned in defeat.  "I love you, man.  Help me.
Please, sir, let me stay with you.  I belong to you now, sir.  I love you,
Randy.  You're my life."

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

That squalid bathroom was like a holy place.  Darius silently withdrew to
the bedroom and lay down exhausted in body and mind.  He had seen something
so enthralling, so intimate, and so secret that he held his breath.  Now,
at last, he understood exactly why these two men had bonded like no two men
before them, had crossed all boundaries of logic and convention to become
lost in each other.  Darius trembled ... and waited.

It was a long time before Bob came out of the bathroom.  And he was a
changed man.  He had been through a catharsis, a purging of memory.  He had
needed to relive the night of pain and humiliation that had changed his
life.  Now he was back to the present, the confident business executive,
the proud and beautiful man in control of his world.

"OK, kid.  Let's get cleaned up and get out of this rat hole.  I need to
breathe some fresh air, and I know just the place.

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

An hour later the two men were taking in great gulps of sea air.  They had
showered, put on clean shirts that Bob had in the truck, and headed out to
the ocean at Santa Monica.  They were leaning on the railing at the end of
the pier, looking down at the waves crashing on the rocks.

"It didn't end there, of course," Bob said.  "I fought back but he won.
His anger flared and he worked me over for another two days."

"He wouldn't let you go?"

"He would have.  At one point he opened the door.  But I found I couldn't
go through it.  He wanted to kick me out ... but he found he couldn't do
that either.  I did eventually leave but I was a changed man, lost, and the
next day I found myself back knocking on the door of room 14.  He let me
in.  And we've been together ever since."

Darius let all this sink in.  Then, "Can I ask you something, sir?"

"Shoot"

"You telling me all this.  Does it mean I'm your boy, sir?"

"Not really, kid.  But I've taken you somewhere today, somewhere private,
secret, and that makes us closer than you being my boy.  Besides, I'm not
sure a guy can be a master to one guy and a slave to another."

"You could, sir."

"Maybe so.  But not with a master like Randy."

"But you're such a top man, sir.  Everyone thinks of you as a master."

"That's the only kind of guy Randy would accept as a slave ... a macho stud
who matched him in looks and strength.  And I am his slave, Darius.  He
owns me.  He's incredible.  No one else even comes close.  I'd do anything
for him.  I'd walk over hot coals if he ordered me to."

"Wow," Darius breathed.

Bob paused.  "One more thing, kid.  As I said, you and I have been
somewhere secret together.  And it has to be strictly between us two.  No
word to anyone else, even Pablo.  OK?"

"Absolutely, sir." Darius said.  "Thank you, sir.  I ... I'm real
flattered.  You sure delivered on your promise.  That was the wildest
fantasy I could ever imagine."

They walked back along the pier for a while.  Then Darius said, "Talking of
Pablo, I wonder how he and Randy are getting on at the lake."

"Like father and son, I'd say.  Pablo brings out all the kindness and
gentleness that Randy hides deep inside him.  That kid is the best thing to
happen to the big guy."

"No, sir."  Darius hesitated. "If you don't mind me saying so ... you are."

Just then they passed the famous carousel on the pier and stopped to watch
as it went round and round.

"Look there," said Bob pointing to a young boy riding up and down astride
one of the ornate, shiny carousel horses.  The kid had his arms folded
tight around the horse's neck, his eyes shining, his imagination running
wild."

Bob smiled.  "He sure thinks he's riding the range.  He's on such a trip."

"Thank God for fantasy, eh, sir?"

Bob put his arm round Darius's shoulder.

"Darius, my boy ... it's all fantasy.  All of it."

Darius thought about this and naturally his imagination flared up.  He was
mesmerized by the carousel turning round and round to the haunting music of
the calliope.  A thought struck him and his eyes opened wide.

"Hey ... if this is all a fantasy, do you think it could be a dream, sir?
Maybe we'll wake up and realize that all this time we've been living in
another guy's fantasy!"

Bob laughed.  "Kiddo, I think you just entered the Twilight Zone."  Again
he caught sight of the little boy with the shining eyes clinging tight to
the neck of his horse.  "Even if you're right Darius, just like that kid
there, we're sure having one hell of a ride."

And Darius couldn't argue with that.

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

At about that time the other two couples were living out their own dreams
and fantasies.  And they too were secret.

Mark and Jamie were alone with each other in the solitude of the dunes
... no one for miles.

At the lake the only one to see everything that went on between Randy and
Pablo was Billy.  And the dog wasn't telling a soul.

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

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength -- Part 42"