A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 200 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER:

Randy and Zack – the construction boss and the leather-master – re-establish their supremacy. Mark, the cop, takes steps to make Jamie more assertive. "Do it, boy – it feels so fucking hot." Pablo and Ben are rebellious and are sent to Doctor Steve for therapy. His methods are unorthodox – and rough. "The boys gasped in awe and fear at the sight of the muscular doctor stripped down to his jeans."

Chapter 200 – "Turning Boys Into Men"

Randy and Mark were kicking back in Mark's apartment and Randy grinned as he shut off the phone. "Man, seems Bob really did a number on Zack up there in the dunes. He's turned into such a mean mother-fucker, working over that tough son-of-a-bitch leatherman."

Mark smiled. "No, not mean, Randy, you know that. Bob only did what Zack craved from him. You saw the way Zack was looking at Bob the other day. Anyway, now that's over maybe you can turn your attention back to those boys of yours. There's trouble brewing there."

"Yeah, I know," Randy sighed and took a slug of beer. "I separated them `cause I saw that Pablo was becoming a bad influence on Ben – that stupid fight and all. But they resent filling in as houseboys and now they're not talking to each other – some kind of weird animosity building up – resentment, competition – something, I dunno. They're basically great kids but, by god, they can be a handful."

"They're just trying to be like you," Mark grinned. "Seems like they've succeeded a bit too well."

"Asshole," Randy grinned. "Anyway, I'm gonna send them to my brother Steve for some therapy – or whatever it is he calls therapy. Maybe he can lick them into shape. Shit, I envy you sometimes with that boy of yours. Jamie did a great job helping Darius break up that fight."

"Yeah," Mark said, "I love the kid to death, not to mention that gorgeous ass of his. But you know, buddy, he's so laid back – you know, that surfer vibe. I wish he could learn to be more assertive, especially with the other boys."

"More like you, you mean."

"Well yeah, kinda. Trouble is, I don't think he ever really recovered from that time I caught him doing drugs with that loser and I came down real hard on him."

"Hard?! Man, you were gonna throw the kid out on his ass as I recall – even threatened to remove that tattoo from his arm. That was cold man, way over the top – you were a mean son-of-a-bitch to the boy."

Mark flinched. "Don't rub it in, man ... I'm not proud of it. Sometimes I act too much like a cop – it's bred in the bone. But I think Mario's a good influence on him with that mature European thing he's got going. Anyway, I've decided to take them both up to my shack in the dunes, make a long weekend of it. See if I can kinda take a back seat and let Jamie take charge."

"Should be interesting," Randy grinned. "Take it easy though, officer. You guys always seem to get in some kind of trouble up there."

Just then the door opened and Jamie came in. "Oh, sorry, sir – I didn't know you were..." Randy stood up. "No sweat, kid, I was just leaving." He looked down at Jamie's round ass straining at his surfer trunks and grinned at Mark. "Yeah, I see what you mean. Like I said, officer, take care of the boy. This too" – and he patted Jamie's ass on the way out.

Mark had just come home from his shift and had not changed out of his police uniform before kicking back with Randy over a couple of beers. Now he lay back on the bed, propped up on his elbows and staring at Jamie who glowed with that sexy look of the young Southern California surfer, with his disheveled blond hair, smiling blue eyes, and dressed in his usual outfit of faded surfer shorts and a loose tank top over his lithe, athletic body.

Mark's cock was growing visibly hard under his uniform pants and he said, "Well, you heard what the man said, boy. What you gonna do about it?"

"Sorry, sir," Jamie said, kicking off his sneakers and pulling his tank top off over his head. He stood still, letting Mark admire him, stripped down to just his board shorts. Jamie knew exactly how to excite his Greek-God master. He also knew how horny the cop always felt after eight hours astride that throbbing bike, and Jamie smiled at the growing bulge in his uniform pants.

"God, that's beautiful," Mark sighed. "Turn around, kid." Jamie turned his back to Mark, thrust his hands in the pockets of his shorts and pushed them forward, stretching the faded fabric over the perfect mounds of his ass as he flared his lats. "Holy shit," Mark moaned softly. Then Jamie loosened the drawstring of his shorts, pushed them slowly down over his ass-cheeks and let them drop. Mark was mesmerized by the round white globes, the sharp tan lines separating the ass from the golden brown of his naked body.

The cop stopped rubbing the bulge in his pants to stop from losing his load. Still with his back turned, Jamie continued his usual evening ritual and lifted one of the cop's boots between his legs, pressing it up against his balls. Mark raised his other boot and pushed the foot against one of the white mounds of the naked boy's ass. He pushed hard, the boot slowly slid loose and Jamie stumbled forward as the boot came off. The same ritual was followed for the other boot, and Mark said, "You're driving me crazy, boy. Come up here."

Instead of getting up to fuck Jamie as he usually did Mark lay back on the bed, his hands linked behind his head. Jamie got on the bed and knelt astride him, his ass sitting firmly on the cop's bulge, feeling the rough serge of the pants against his bare cheeks. He flashed a smile at Mark, leaned forward and slowly began to unbutton his black uniform shirt. When it was open to the waist he pulled it apart and stroked his palms over the white T-shirt underneath, feeling the rounded pecs flex under his touch.

Jamie wriggled his butt on the bulge of the pants, feeling the rock-hard outline of Mark's cock under his ass. At the same time he rubbed the backs of his fingers against the shirt right over the shape of the cop's nipples. "Oh, man," Mark groaned. "yeah, work `em, boy." Jamie squeezed the hard nipples through the T-shirt as Mark gazed up at him and ran his hands over Jamie's chest, settling on the boy's tits, squeezing them as Jamie was doing to him.

Gazing into each other's eyes they rolled each other's nipples harder between their fingers while Jamie rubbed his ass back and forth over Mark's crotch, driving Mark wild. The cop threw his arms upward on the bed and grabbed the rail of the headboard. Jamie worked the tits harder and gazed in awe at the cop's biceps bulging below his short sleeves as he pulled on the rail as if he were tied to it.

Mark's handsome face thrashed from side to side and he moaned, "Shit, that feels so fucking hot." He stared up at his beautiful, naked boy, his young muscles rippling as he moved his body erotically on top of him, grinding his ass on the cock pulsing in his pants. "Yeah," Mark moaned, "come on, work it, boy, punish those tits, work that sweet ass over my cock." Suddenly he inhaled sharply. "Man, it feels so hot... I can't take it ... you're making me ... aaagh! ..." and he creamed his pants with streams of hot jism.

Mesmerized, Jamie stared at the handsome blond cop bucking beneath him, gripping the bed hard as he emptied his load in his pants. Jamie's ass felt the sticky dampness of the pants as cum oozed through the fabric. Jamie leaned forward and braced himself with his hands on the bed beside Mark's face. "You are so beautiful, sir. I love you like crazy."

He fell onto Mark's body, chest against chest, and felt his cock press against the buckle of the heavy police belt. He ground his cock against the leather, gazed into Mark's blue-gray eyes and said, "I love you, sir." His lips met Mark's, their mouths opened and they shared the same breath back and forth as Jamie uttered a stifled moan and his cock erupted between their bodies, semen streaming up onto Mark's T-shirt. The cop folded his arms round his boy and squeezed him tight.

After their heartbeats slowed Mark rolled Jamie off him and they lay on their sides, staring into each other's eyes. "That was real special, Jamie," Mark said, "and you know why? It's because you were in control – on top. I was just saying to Randy that it's a big turn on for me to see my boy take command, assert himself. And that gave me an idea. What would you say if I took you and Mario up to the shack in the dunes? It's your shack now, of course, so I guess I should really ask if you would invite us to stay."

Jamie's eyes shone mischievously. "Hmm, I'll have to think about it." He grinned ... "OK, I've thought about it and you're invited. You want me to take charge, so I will. I'll plan all the activities, and that includes teaching Mario to surf. He didn't do much of that in Europe – only a bit down in Laguna. I'll take you both to dinner too..." Then he curbed his enthusiasm and added modestly, "...if that's OK with you, sir."

"Sounds perfect, kiddo. Shit, even your take-charge tone of voice makes me hard. But before you become the big boss-man you gotta help me off with this cum-soaked T-shirt and throw it in the laundry for Pablo and Ben to wash. Or, add it to my other stinking shirts you've got stashed away that you jack off over." Jamie grinned bashfully and blushed.

"By the way," Mark asked, "how are those two boys coping with filling in as houseboys while Nate and Eddie are off sick?"

"Not well at all, sir. They see it as a big come-down – them being Randy's son and brother. They're feeling bad about the big fight but I think in a way they blame each other. Pablo was showing off to Ben and Ben was influenced by all that macho stuff. Anyway, they're not talking to each other much right now. Not sure what's gonna happen."

"Therapy – that's what's gonna happen. Randy's gonna send them to Doctor Steve to see if he can sort them out. Steve's methods can get pretty weird but he gets the job done. Now, how about helping me off with this uniform, then we'll jump in the shower and you can take charge again – show me how aggressive you can be."

The next day Bob and Zack came home from the dunes. Zack had already had a long phone conversation with his boy Darius, but he might as well have used a public address system because by the time they came in every detail of what had happened was all over the house. Gathered over drinks after work the group stared in awe as the guys walked through the gate.

Zack was in jeans and a black tank-top that did little to hide the whip marks on his arms and shoulders. In fact he flaunted them as a badge of honor. Bob was still wearing the black jeans, boots and old torn black T-shirt Zack had lent him. With his stubbled face and macho strut it was the rugged look that had turned Zack on so much he had jacked off a huge load just looking at him. And now there wasn't a limp dick in the crowd – including Randy's massive hard-on.

Ignoring everyone else Randy stood up from the table and said, "Hey, buddy, welcome back. Come upstairs. He threw his arm round Bob's neck and pushed him toward the house.

"That goes for you too, boy," Zack said to Darius. "Come across the street to my house and help me get cleaned up."

Zack and Randy both knew what they wanted. Zack had willingly submitted to being bound, whipped and fucked by Bob, the leather-stud he lusted for, but now he needed to re-assert his role as master, and who better to do that with than Darius, the newly dominant young black buck who now led the boys.

Randy had heard with pride how Bob had worked Zack over, had overwhelmed the macho leather-master and made him submit to the beautiful and powerful Superman. Now there was only one thing Randy wanted to do ... he had to. His cock demanded it.

Upstairs in the master bedroom Randy faced Bob. "So," Randy grinned, "you're the big new boss around town, eh? Guess you're gonna tie me up and whip me like you did Zack."

Bob smiled. "Sounds like a plan."

"'Course," Randy shrugged, "on the other hand I could just throw the new boss on the bed and fuck the shit out of him."

"Sounds like a better plan," Bob grinned.

Randy pressed his hand in Bob's chest and pushed him hard onto the bed. He looked down at the rugged alpha stud lying on his back, his arms flung upward, his T-shirt's torn sleeves pushed up so high it looked like a sleeveless shirt. Randy moaned, "Shit, man, that looks so damn hot. Let's see now." He reached down to the frayed neck of the shirt and ripped a few inches down the middle. He stepped back and grinned, "Yeah, even better. So you're the macho stud who topped the big leather master. Now look at you – your ripped T-shirt, gorgeous stubbled face – waiting for this."

Randy pulled off his tank top, ripped open his pants, pulled out his beer-can-thick cock and stroked it. "You may be the big top-man around here, stud, but you know where this is going?"

"Yeah – in my ass," said Bob, his body trembling with desire. "Damn right," Randy growled. "Just so you remember who the real boss is in this house." Springing into action he ripped open Bob's jeans and pulled them down over his ass. He knelt on the bed grabbed one of Bob's boots and pushed his leg up high, the other splayed on the bed, his ass exposed. Randy pressed his cock between the cheeks and growled, "Here it comes, big guy."

The massive cock plunged inside Bob's ass. He winced but stared defiantly into Randy's eyes. Bob had long ago learned to endure Randy's classic power fuck and the pain quickly faded into a unique sensation on the fine line between agony and ecstasy. Randy's blue eyes penetrated his as his cock pistoned inside him. He pushed Bob's leg further back and with his free hand grabbed the ripped neck of his shirt and pulled Bob's head and shoulders forward off the bed.

With his upper torso hanging from the shirt in Randy's fist Bob stretched his arms out on the bed and gazed up at the wild, shirtless gypsy, his abs flexing as they slammed forward, his bicep bulging as he held Bob suspended from his shirt. Bob moaned, "You're incredible man. Fuck my ass ... fuck it hard, sir."

Randy redoubled the pace of the ferocious fuck, and each thrust of his cock jerked Bob's body back to the sound of ripping cloth. The shirt was taking a pounding along with Bob's ass and as the pile-driver slammed into him the shirt ripped more and more. Randy gloated. "Not the big boss now, are you, stud? That gorgeous body is mine – your ass is mine. You can make other guys submit to you, even Zack, but not me. Even a tough muscle-stud like you meets his match and submits to his master. Let me hear the big tough Superman beg...!"

"Yes, sir. You're my master – my ass is yours. Please, sir, cum in my ass. Please....."

Randy pulled his cock all the way back then pierced his lover with one last savage thrust. The T-shirt finally ripped in two and came off in Randy's fist, releasing Bob who fell back on the bed. His face thrashed wildly and he screamed as he felt Randy's hot cum streaming into his ass.

The dark demon's chest heaved as he stared down at him, the sweat from his chest dripping down onto the exhausted man. Randy tied the shredded remains of the shirt loosely round his own neck, much as Bob had done with Zack's torn shirt, a trophy of dominance. The picture of the savage gypsy was complete and Bob shuddered at the spectacular sight.

Randy hooked both of Bob's legs over his shoulders and fell forward, pinning his wrists to the bed above his head. His eyes blazed down at him as he growled, "And now, mother fucker, you're gonna shoot your load for me. I can make you do anything ... like this. On a count of three, man." Again he pulled his hips back, then slammed his cock into the depths of Bob's ass and let it rest there. "That was one."

His cock withdrew, then slammed in again, making Bob howl. "That was two," Randy gloated. "OK, here it comes, buddy ... this one's because I love you." He pulled back one last time, paused, then shouted, "Three," as he drove his cock in deep, over the inner sphincter and it came to rest in the cauldron of the deepest chamber of Bob's ass.

"Aaaagh...!" Bob's scream echoed round the room as his cock reared up and blasted a ribbon of cum that arced high and splashed against Randy's chest, then another even higher that slammed into the swarthy face. He howled again as Randy suddenly pulled his dick out, then fell forward, wrapped his arms round Bob and kissed him voraciously.

Their hearts thumped against each other as they kissed and ground their stubbled faces together. Finally Randy rolled off Bob and lay beside him. As their breathing subsided Randy turned his face to Bob's and grinned. "Un-fucking-believable man. You look so fucking hot in Zack's clothes. Like I said, there's not a man who can master you – except me, buddy. Shit, you must have done a number on Zack. Tell me about it – all the details. Spill the beans, man."

"You know," Bob laughed, "you're starting to sound just like Darius."

"Yeah, I should have damn well made that boy follow you up there with his camera, told him to film the whole thing. And as he would say, that movie would definitely have been..."

"... one for prosperity!" they chanted in unison and collapsed laughing in each other's arms.

As it happened, at that very moment, Darius was doing his best to restore Zack's confidence in his own manhood, which had taken a beating when he had offered himself up to be whipped by Bob. Now in Zack's house, master and boy stood facing each other.

Zack reached behind his own neck and pulled up on his tank that slid slowly upward, and an awestruck Darius gazed in turn at the sculpted abs, chest and arms, all striped by the marks of the whip. Zack threw the shirt to the floor and Darius reached forward to touch the muscular black torso, his fingers gently tracing the long lines crisscrossing it, evidence of the brutal lash.

"You look so hot, sir," the boy breathed, then leaned forward, his tongue replacing his finger, licking the whip-marks slowly over his master's gleaming body. Far from making Zack look diminished by the dominance of another master, the whip marks were a sign to Darius of his master's strength and endurance, and his cock grew hard as he imagined Zack's powerful body writhing under the lash.

He kissed the striped flesh, licking between the pecs then down over the washboard abs to the waistband of his black jeans. Resting his hands on the slim hips he sank to his knees before his master. He pulled open Zack's jeans and watched the long black rod spring out, hard as steel. Darius licked the sweaty balls, then sucked the head of the cock into his mouth and pushed his face forward, letting the cock slide inside him until his face was buried in the wiry, black pubic hair, moist with crotch-sweat.

He heard Zack moan, felt the big hand grab the back of his head and pull it back off the cock. Zack said, "Now make me feel good. Suck it hard, boy ... like this ..." and he yanked the head forward, forcing his shaft deep into Darius's throat, making him choke. As the monster cock filled his mouth Darius breathed desperately through his nose which was buried in the wet pubic hair ... the boy felt he was drowning in the stink of Zack's crotch.

Suddenly Zack pulled his cock out and Darius gazed up at the shirtless muscle-god, his monster cock slapping his face from side to side. "You want more, boy? You wanna feel your master's pole busting a load deep in your throat?"

"Yes, sir ... please, sir," Darius gulped, and the ferocious face-fuck continued. Zack was massively turned on knowing that the boy was such a tough young buck, leader of the boys, and yet here he was, on his knees getting his face pounded by his master. "Here it comes, boy," he yelled at last. The smell and taste of the pile-driving black rod intoxicated the boy, tears ran down his face, and he was on the verge of passing out when the cock swelled in his mouth and pumped a river of pungent juice that Darius gulped down frantically.

He swallowed desperately, choking on the semen that poured into him. When the cock was drained Zack pulled out, took a few steps back, folded his arms across his chest and gazed down at the boy, his mouth sagging open, cum running down his chin and tears down his face. "That's my boy," Zack growled. "Now ... cum for your master."

That didn't take long. Darius had already held back from creaming his pants and when he pulled out his stiff ten-inch dick it was oozing pre-cum. He stared up at the spectacular leather-master, stripped to the waist, arms crossed over his muscled chest and, in an act of worship, Darius stroked his cock and yelled, "I love you, sir." A plume of jism shot from his cock, hung in the air, then splashed down on his master's boots, stream after stream until the boots were smothered in jism, a tribute from his boy.

The hot young black stud fell on his stomach, reached forward, grabbed one of Zack's legs and dragged himself forward over the ground. He lowered his mouth to the boots and lapped at them hungrily, sucking up his own juice, licking the black boots until they were sparkling clean. He reached up, grabbed Zack's thigh and pulled himself up on his knees.

Zack linked his hands behind his own head, his elbows out to the side and flared his lats in a bodybuilder pose. Darius raised his arms and ran his hands over the eight-pack abs then over the slabs of Zack's chest, feeling again the raised stripes of the whip. Zack's face broke into a gleaming smile, he put his hands under his boy's armpits and pulled him to his feet facing him.

"That's just what I needed, kid. You're the perfect boy for me – a tough young alpha stud submitting to no-one but me, your master. You like the look of that whipped body, eh?"

"Oh wow, you've never looked hotter, sir," Darius said. "I just wish I had been in the dunes with my camera. What a video!" Zack grinned, "One for prosperity, eh?"

"You said it, sir."

And so the pendulum that had lately been swinging so wildly in the house finally slowed and came almost to a rest – almost. There was just one piece of unfinished business, which came to a head at the end of the week. The houseboys, Nate and Eddie, would soon be back at work after Nate took off his neck brace and Eddie the sling on his arm, both unwelcome mementos of the attack by Pablo and Ben. In the meantime, at Randy's order, Pablo and Ben had been filling in as houseboys, a demeaning task for two cocky boys who prided themselves on being Randy's son and brother.

But Randy was wary of letting the boys work together as Pablo had proved to be a poor example for the inexperienced Ben, teaching him how to fight and little else. So he had separated them on the construction site and had decreed that Ben would work in the house in the mornings and Pablo in the afternoon. But in a way their separation had backfired, driving a wedge between them. As Randy had explained earlier to Mark, "They resent filling in as houseboys and now they're not talking to each other – some kind of weird animosity building up – resentment, competition – I dunno."

By week's end the situation had worsened to the point where a clash was inevitable. And it came, as domestic conflicts so often do, over something petty. While the twins were busy in the kitchen preparing food for the evening meal, Ben had just finished tidying up when Pablo came in to take over. They didn't speak or make eye contact, as was usually the case now, and Pablo opened the dishwasher to put some plates in that the twins had been using.

"What the fuck's this?" Pablo said. "Hey, asshole, you didn't empty the dishwasher like you're s'posed to." Ben bristled. "Oh yeah? Who says I am? You're not my boss anymore. You're not anyone's boss now that Darius took over." He had struck a nerve and the resentment that had been building for over a week erupted.

Pablo lunged at Ben and shoved him against the counter, sending the pile of dirty plates crashing to the floor. Instantly the boys were grappling, trading punches, causing havoc in the kitchen. The twins rushed forward and tried to separate them, getting thrown against the wall for their efforts. The place was getting trashed as the fight intensified.

"What the fuck?" boomed a deep voice, making everyone freeze. Randy had come home to go over the budget with Jamie, but on his way up to the office he had heard the racket coming from the kitchen and now he loomed in the doorway, an intimidating figure in his grubby work pants and old, greasy tank-top. "What the fuck's going on here? Speak!"

The boys gulped and Pablo found his voice first. "Sir, it's just that Ben hadn't emptied the dishwasher like he's s`posed to." Even as the words came out the boy realized how lame they sounded. Ben glared at Pablo. "He can't make me do that. It's his job to ...."

"Enough!" Randy roared. "Jesus Christ, you sound like a couple of girls squabbling over whose turn it is to do the dishes. Fuck, is that what you two have come to?" He turned and paced the room, running his hand through his hair in frustration. He faced them again and raised his arms in a helpless gesture of surrender. "That's it – I give up – I can't handle you two anymore. You're running wild. I thought you respected my authority but apparently not."

He paced some more, then said, "OK, the only thing left is my brother Steve. Maybe the shrink can get through to you. And make no mistake, I'll tell him he can do anything to you young punks to whip you into shape – anything. I'll see if he can take you after he's finished work today. In the meantime, you can clean up in here, then you Ben get back to the site, and Pablo, carry on cleaning the house.

He turned away in disgust and left the room shaking his head – "Holy fucking shit,"

Way up on Mulholland Drive, when Steve got home from work his lover Lloyd had already made martinis and they sat sipping them by the pool facing the panoramic view of the city spread far below them. It was something of an evening ritual between the two successful professionals, architect and psychologist – drinks, sex, dinner and a Netflix movie. But now Steve sighed.

"Sorry, buddy, but the rest will have to wait a while. I've promised to see Randy's boys up here. I wouldn't have, but he sounded desperate, at the end of his wits. Apparently the boys had been acting up – fighting again – trashed the kitchen this time apparently." He grinned. "My guess is they're both just acting like he does. Two junior Randys – can you imagine?"

Lloyd laughed. "No sweat, Steve. I've got some blueprints to go over. And the wait will make me even more horny ..." he grinned lasciviously "... more receptive, so to speak."

Steve smiled, "Hold that thought, buddy," and went into the house. He changed out of his business suit and pulled on jeans and a pale blue Polo shirt, in the hope that a more casual outfit would help the boys relax. But that proved to be harder than he anticipated. He was sitting in his office when the doorbell rang and he heard Lloyd's voice. "Hey, Ben, good to see you again. Yeah, he's in his office – straight through on the right."

Ben tapped on the door and came in looking nervous. He always found Doctor Steve a bit intimidating, though he still tingled when he thought of their first session together soon after he arrived in California – a doctor/patient fantasy that he still beat off to. A one-on-one with the handsome doc would have been great, but now Pablo would be there too, which he resented.

"Ben," Steve smiled, looking up from behind his desk. He didn't see his little brother that often and whenever he did he was startled by his looks, the dark haired, blue-eyed gypsy boy, a clone of Randy, only a younger version. He had obviously showered and changed after work into clean cargo shorts and a white T-shirt that set off his tanned face.

"Good to see you, little brother." Steve came round from behind his desk and gave Ben a tight hug. As Ben felt the muscular body under the Polo shirt pressing against him he felt his cock stiffen, despite his resentment at being here in the first place. The gorgeous Steve looked so much like Randy that he couldn't help being turned on. Steve pulled away and said, "OK, Ben, take a seat on the couch there – Pablo not with you?"

"No sir, we don't drive together anymore ... I mean ... he's coming in his own truck, sir." So much for togetherness, Steve thought. The separation seemed to be complete. Just then they heard a car drive up, signaling Pablo's arrival. He came into the room without knocking with a surly look on his face. He clearly hadn't changed from his grubby work clothes, a small sign of defiance, Steve guessed.

"Ah, Pablo," Steve smiled. "Take a seat beside Ben." Ben was at the far end of the couch and Pablo sat at the other end, as far away as possible, pressing against the arm in an attempt to distance himself even further. Well, Steve thought, as of now we're batting zero. "Right," he smiled, "now Randy has filled me in on some of the problems but I'd like to hear what you have to say. Pablo?

Pablo pouted sullenly. "All I have to say is that I don't wanna be here. I wanna be home with my dad. He emphasized the last word for Ben's benefit ... being Randy's son trumped being his brother. But Ben was having none of that. "Well I'm his brother – always have been since I was born." Unable to deny that clumsy piece of logic Pablo glared at Ben, and Steve quickly interjected, "Well, by my reckoning, Ben, that would make you Pablo's uncle."

His attempt at humor worked, taking the wind out of their sails. "Anyway," said Ben, "I want to go home to my master – the fireman," stressing the last word in an act of one-upmanship."

"Of course," Steve said, "I did clear this meeting with Jason, and he approved." He could see this was going nowhere so he tried a different tack. "Ben, as I recall from one of our earlier sessions, soon after you and Pablo met you were best buddies. You told me you loved him and thought of yourself as his boy."

"Yeah, but a lot of water's flowed under the bridge since then." Ben's tone became wistful. "At first I looked up to him and he took care of me and taught me a lot about mechanics and stuff. I thought he loved me too, and he promised to always take care of me. But then I became Jason's boy and, I dunno, I guess he kind of got jealous."

"That's fucking bullshit – jealous of a kid like you?" Pablo snarled and clenched his fists. Steve could see that the heat was rising but he decided to let things run their course.

"See that?" Ben bristled, his wistfulness all gone. "He's become an asshole and he looked down at me `cause I couldn't fight as good as him. He said we had to defend Randy and fight those guys and I ended up hurting Nate real bad, and he broke Eddie's arm, and now we have to work as houseboys, and... and he's a bad influence on me – I heard Randy say so to Bob."

"He did not," shouted Pablo, and they both stood up. "Take that back, boy, or I'll ..." "You'll what?" snarled Ben, "break my arm like you did to that poor kid Eddie? Try me, asshole."

"Fuck you, man," Pablo yelled and hurled himself at Ben. They fell against the couch that tipped over and sent them struggling on the floor, rolling over trading punches and shouting obscenities. Steve looked on calmly, a plan forming in his mind. He could see they were not doing any real damage to each other and he had a sense that they were instinctively putting on a show for him, proving to Randy's brother how tough they were.

But the fight was starting to get out of hand, with the sound of shirts ripping, and Steve was about to make a move when – suddenly he didn't have to. On their feet, straining against each other they fell against a book case, and a big ornamental vase on the top shook and toppled forward, crashing to the ground with a deafening sound of shattered china.

Everything stopped. On their knees amid the shattered porcelain shards the boys stared up in fear as Steve towered over them. There was a knock on the door and Lloyd's voice said, "Everything OK in there, guys?" Steve said calmly, "Nothing I can't handle, buddy. Thanks."

It was Steve's steely composure that scared the boys most. Randy would have waded into them, fists flying, but his brother now eyed them with the cold look of a professional deciding what to do with them. "Sit down," he said evenly. They righted the couch and sat back on it, but closer together this time for moral support, a fact that didn't escape Steve's notice – progress at last. He assumed an attitude of cold anger.

"The bill for the vase will go to Randy with an explanation of how it got broken. As for you two ... I don't know how much you get away with in that house or how far they let you go, but you're dealing with me now. I may be a professional shrink, but I have a very short fuse – and it just burned to the end. Apparently you trashed the kitchen at home and now you've trashed my office. And now you'll pay."

"I remember the first time Randy came into my office, out to prove he wasn't my brother. He threw me over the desk and raped my ass – pounded it mercilessly – the worst pain I ever felt. I learned later that his brutal fucks were legendary – his chosen form of punishment. Well I'm not his brother for nothing." Steve pulled his shirt off over his head and the boys gasped in awe and fear at the sight of the muscular doctor stripped down to his jeans.

"Randy and I are alike in many ways. We both have huge cocks and we know how to use them – but there's a difference." His voice became menacing ... the boys had never seen Steve like this and it scared them. "See, Randy's a master fuck ... he can sense a man's limits and knows when to hold back. But I'm not as good as him. I'm not good at judging limits and there's always a danger I'll split a guy`s ass wide open. But we'll just have to take that chance. I'm a doctor and I can get away with a lot of crap. OK, so who's first?"

The boys edged closer together on the couch, their bodies touching. Another good sign, Steve thought ... so far so good. "Right. Ben, stand up." Ben jumped to his feet, his heart pounding with fear, as Steve positioned a chair with its back to the couch, opposite Pablo who remained seated. "Kneel here." Steve guided Ben to the chair and he knelt on the seat facing backward. His chest was pressed against the chair's back, his arms wrapped round it, his face level with Pablo sitting on the couch.

Steve stood behind him admiring the shape of Ben's ass bulging against his shorts. "Oh yeah, I'm gonna enjoy working on that ass," Steve said. "Let's take a closer look." He pulled Ben's shorts down over his ass and stroked the bare cheeks, pushing his finger into the moist hole. Ben looked back over his shoulder and said desperately. "Please, sir, I only get fucked by Jason, and he's always real gentle with me."

"Yeah, well Jason's a good, gentle guy. But this is me now, boy, and I'm not so gentle – once you get to know me." He leaned forward and grabbed the boy's hips, gazing down at the upraised ass. He pushed the head of his cock between the cheeks, then in one savage move plunged his cock fast and deep into the boy's ass. Ben howled as the cock pulled back and plunged in again, even deeper. Pain radiated from Ben's ass all through his body as he hugged the chairback tight and bit into the padded top.

Steve disliked causing the boy pain and hoped it would be short and swift. As he pounded the young ass with his huge cock, as massive as Randy's, Ben's tear-filled eyes stared at Pablo, who was watching in horror. "Aaaagh," Ben yelled ... "it hurts so bad, dude ... help me ... you said you'd take care of me ..." and the tears started to flow down his cheeks.

The strongest instinct Pablo had inherited from Randy was the big man's protection of his brothers, and later the boys in his house. That impulse overwhelmed Pablo now and he looked up at Steve. "No!..... please, sir ... don't hurt him. Please, sir, stop fucking him, sir ... please... he's my friend ..."

"Too late for that, kid," Steve growled. "He's gotta get punished ... gotta get ass-fucked, and there's no-one here to do that except me. I sure can't trust you to do it."

Seized by fear and pity for the young gypsy boy Pablo pleaded, "We don't fuck, sir, not since the one time when we first met ..."

"OK," Steve said, "so he's all mine." He thrust his hips harder and Ben screamed in pain, his wide eyes staring desperately at Pablo. "OK, OK, sir," Pablo shouted. "Let me, sir. I'll fuck him, sir ... I'll do it real hard. Please, sir ... please stop and let me fuck him."

That's what Steve was waiting to hear. He pulled his cock out and Ben gasped with relief. "OK," Steve said. "Ben, get naked and lie on your back on the fur rug here – quick, boy." Ben scrambled off the chair, quickly pulled off his T-shirt, kicked off his sneakers and dropped his shorts. Naked, he eased himself down on the rug, his ass still aching.

"OK, Pablo. His ass is still mighty sore but you gotta fuck it. Do it, boy!" Pablo took off his shirt, dropped his pants and knelt between Ben's legs. Ben looked up at him with fear in his eyes. "It hurts so bad, sir. My ass hurts bad." Pablo smiled down at him. "Don't worry, kid, I'll take care of it. I promised I'd take care of you."

Pablo pushed Ben's legs up and, with extreme care, pressed his cock against Ben's hole and eased it very slowly inside him. Whenever Ben flinched Pablo stopped for a moment, then eased in again. "Just relax, Ben and I'll make the pain go away. Trust me, dude ... look at me." Ben locked his eyes on Pablo's and gradually surrendered his body to him. Pablo was using all the skill he had to give the tenderest fuck of his life, slowly massaging the inflamed membrane with his gently sliding cock.

"Feel better yet, kid?" he asked softly. "Yes, sir – thank you, sir. The pain's going away – your cock feels good inside me."

Steve stood at a distance smiling quietly. He had hated hurting Ben but it was the only way. In fact, he had taken his cue from his big brother. He had seen Randy savagely punish a misbehaving boy but, if ever that same boy were being hurt by someone else, Randy's powerful protective instinct took over and he roared in like a lion to protect the boy. Steve knew that Pablo copied Randy in everything – and this time was no exception.

As the fuck became loving Ben gazed up with something close to adoration and saw the same handsome young stud he had first met, and had later asked to become his boy. All the rest – the resentment that had since crowded in – faded away. Sighing with relief Ben said, "Sir, all that stuff I said to you – I didn't mean any of it."

"Me neither, dude. It's that temper of ours – that old Randy-rage." By now Pablo was able to push his cock deep into Ben's warm, welcoming ass, to Ben's moans of pleasure, not pain. As he fucked, Pablo said, "But you were right about one thing, kid. I have been a bad influence. I'll do better in future. Hey, you wanna shoot a load for me, buddy?"

"Yes please, sir," Ben grinned. Pablo braced himself forward on one arm, his hand pressed on the floor beside Ben. With his other hand he stroked Ben's cock, feeling it pulse each time his cock touched the back of his ass. "Let's do it together, eh, kid? Show that we're good buddies again?" Ben nodded and Pablo took full control as a wave of protectiveness swept over him. It felt good to take care of a kid like this – made him feel like a man.

He slowly increased the rhythm of his fuck and his stroking of Ben's cock. "OK, dude, here we go – let's do it, kiddo – friends again." They both moaned loudly as Pablo felt his cock pour hot juice in Ben's ass and saw the boy's cock shudder and shoot ribbons of cum over his own naked chest. Ben gazed up and said, "Thank you, sir." Pablo fell forward and kissed Ben, their bodies sliding on the creamy cum as their cocks continued to pump juice.

They were still kissing when they felt warm liquid splashing down on them. They separated and looked up at the glorious sight of the shirtless doctor, the muscles of his spectacular body rippling as he beat his meat, cumming all over them. They stared at Steve in awe, and Pablo said to Ben. "You got any left, dude?" Ben grinned, "For the doc, sure," and both boys shot a final stream of jism as they opened their mouths and drank the doc's juice.

"That was my seal of approval on you boys," Steve grinned. "Good job – a very successful session." He was back to being the doctor again. He stuffed his cock back in his jeans and pulled on his shirt. He tossed a towel to the boys but they preferred to pull on their shirts over their cum-covered chests. In a few minutes they were sitting facing the doc like before – only this time shoulder to shoulder on the couch.

"OK, full disclosure," said Steve, all business again. "One thing I told you was incorrect – that thing about telling Randy what happened. Everything that went on here is protected by doctor/patient confidentiality, so I can't tell Randy or Jason without your permission."

"Oh, no sweat, doc," Pablo said. "Me and Ben will tell Darius – he'll squeeze it out us – and once we do that, confidentiality is pretty much shot. It'll be all over the house in ten minutes."

"Got it," Steve grinned. "Well in that case I feel free to recommend to Randy that you two start working together again – chief mechanic and his assistant – if that's what you want."

"Fuck yes," Ben blurted out, then blushed and said, "Sorry, sir – I mean `yes please', sir."

"Right," Steve smiled. "Hang on a minute." He left the room briefly, then came back and sat down. "Now, I just checked with Lloyd and we were thinking of asking you boys to join us for dinner." Their eyes sparkled but then dimmed as Steve added, "However, that would be a breach of the doctor/patient relationship." They frowned in disappointment – but Steve was playing with them. "On the other hand, since I am Ben's brother and Pablo's uncle, there would be no such restriction there, so ... how would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Yes please, sir," they said in unison.

"There's one other thing. Before dinner Lloyd and I usually go into the bedroom and make love." There was a silence as he stroked his chin and the boys perched expectantly on the edge of the couch. Steve shrugged. "'Course, you boys already got a lesson in making love, so another one wouldn't hurt. So you could always come into the bedroom and watch us – if you don't mind the delay in dinner."

They rushed to reassure him. "We don't mind, sir," said Pablo. "Not at all, sir," Ben agreed. The thought of watching these two gorgeous men fuck, the doctor and the architect, and then having dinner with them, was a huge turn-on and their cocks were already hard again.

"Right, that's settled," Steve said. "Pablo, you should phone Randy, and Ben you call Jason, to get their permission and we're all set." He rubbed his hands together and said, "Like I said, a very productive session – we accomplished a lot, don't you think? Randy will be pleased."

"Absolutely, sir," they said in unison. Then Pablo asked, "Sir, would it be OK if we left Ben's truck up here when we go home later? We want to drive back together."

Bingo, Steve thought. "Oh, I don't think that would be a problem ... no problem at all."

And so Pablo had taken a few more steps on the road to becoming a man, the senior boy he had always boasted of being, without much justification given his immaturity. Darius had recently taken similar steps to manhood, having brought order to the chaos of the boys' fight, where he had exhibited all the signs of leadership.

Mark, the authoritative cop, not unnaturally, wanted to nudge his boy Jamie in the same direction. Jamie was the third of the most senior boys but he was still content just being a laid-back young surfer – California mellow. Mark encouraged Jamie's friendship with Mario, the sophisticated, self assured Italian boy, but he wanted Jamie to shed his remaining insecurities, to assert himself and assume his rightful place as one of the senior in-charge boys.

To this end Mark had proposed a trip to the same Guadalupe dunes where Bob and Zack had recently indulged in their macho sex games. Some time ago Mark had made a gift of his own shack up there to Jamie, and now he made clear that Jamie would be the host to him and Mario. And so, a few days later, they had loaded the rowboat onto Mark's big truck along with the rest of their gear and were on their way north along the coast.

Easing Jamie into a leadership role right away Mark had pleaded tiredness after back-to-back shifts and asked Jamie to drive. So now Jamie sat proudly behind the wheel of the big truck, with Mario beside him. The cop was content to doze in the passenger seat, listening with amusement to the boys' surfer talk. Now there Jamie was an expert and naturally assumed the role of guide and mentor.

Beyond that Mark's thoughts drifted and he had no firm idea how to help Jamie take charge – but as it turned out he didn't have to. Fate stepped in and thrust Jamie into a situation where his leadership qualities would be sorely tested, ending in either catastrophe or triumph – and maybe even a reward from a proud cop.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 201

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!