A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 358 By Rob Williams

CHAPTER 358 – "LOVE TAMES THE SAVAGE BEAST"

IN THIS CHAPTER:

The rugged Zack has offended the tribe and, in a haze of guilt, seeks help from Dr. Steve, then finds solace in the bed of Steve's houseboy Tommy. The stunning blond gymnast gazes at the naked black construction boss, at his chiseled features, shaved head, piercing gray eyes, and a physique carved in ebony. "Sir," the young jock tells the troubled man, "I want to make you feel better – anything you want, sir." _____________________________________________________________________

************ In the previous chapter *************

The handsome, sculpted black construction worker Zack was one of the most self-assured alpha males of the tribe. He worked alongside the tribe's leader Randy as co-bosses on the construction site and they were great buddies with rarely any bad blood between them.

As Doctor Steve – the tribe's therapist as well as Randy's brother – had said, "Those two are so close, so alike in their strength and macho dominance, they could be brothers. But like all brothers there is bound to be an undercurrent of rivalry that usual stays friendly but occasionally erupts into conflict because of some tension or other."

And that's what was happening now. There were definite signs that Zack was simmering with anger and resentment, mostly directed at Randy. A series of incidents lately had highlighted Randy's status as the much admired leader of the tribe, each incident adding to Zack's resentment of him. Steve asked Zack's boy Darius for his take on the problem.

"Well, sir, like I said, Zack is a real tough guy, a leader of men. Thinks of himself as a match for any guy ... even Randy. But I think, for some reason, Zack feels ... it's hard to find the words ... that he's kinda not getting the respect he deserves, like ... like his masculinity is threatened. There's a word ... I dunno ... immaculate something or other ..."

"Emasculated," Steve said. "It means, literally, having his balls snipped, losing his masculinity. Of course it's mostly in his imagination, a sort of paranoia. A loss of self-esteem is a condition therapists see very often."

Steve discussed the problem with Randy and the other senior men Bob and Mark, but said, "I'm afraid there's not much we can do at this stage. Sounds like Zack could benefit from therapy but I can't get involved professionally unless he actively seeks my help. For now, I suggest we back off and humor Zack, and above all don't aggravate him and make things worse."

Steve looked pointedly at Randy. "That goes especially for you, Randy. I know what a hair-trigger you've got, bro, with those clenched fists ready to swing at any time. I know it's not in your nature to back off, but even if Zack bad-mouths you, don't react. You two together are like a powder-keg ready to blow. If you were to beat him in one of those knock-down drag-out fights between you it would be disastrous and make him even more resentful."

Unfortunately Steve's cautionary remarks turned out to be more like a prediction of what eventually happened.

A few days later an incident on the construction site brought matters to ahead, when Randy reprimanded Zack, who finally snapped. "Who the fuck do you think I am, dickhead, one of your peons that you can shove around as you like? I've had it up to here with you, man, playing the big boss around here and whenever the tribe gets together. Just because you own the goddam company, just because you've got that hot boyfriend, just because these boys think the sun shines out of your fucking ass."

Inevitably a fight followed, watched in horror by their boys Pablo and Darius. But Randy, mindful of Steve's caution, did not fight back and took the beating that Zack dished out, including a savage butt-fuck that left him lying beaten in the dirt.

Having purged his demons and proved his manhood, or so he thought, Zack shoved his cock back in his jeans, zipped them up and stared down at Randy's limp body. He blinked and frowned with a puzzled expression, almost as if he were seeing Randy for the first time. "OK, man, get up. It's over. I proved I'm the best, so get up now."

But the body didn't move and Pablo and Darius, who had been helpless to intervene, now ran forward and knelt beside Randy's motionless body. When they turned him over his eyes were closed. "Sir, sir," Pablo urged, "wake up, sir, please ..." Zack stared down numbly at the scene like he was watching a slow-motion train wreck, mumbling, "Get up Randy. Get up."

Darius grabbed a bucket of water and poured it over Randy's face. His eyes opened and he shook his head. He looked up, frowned in confusion and groaned, "What the fuck? What d'you go and do that for?"

"Thank god," Darius murmured. "Yeah," came Zack's shaky voice from above them. "That's good. Yeah, that's good."

Pablo looked up at him. "Sir, he's gonna be alright, but if you don't mind, sir, I think you should leave us alone with him. We'll call Bob and Mark and everything will be OK." Darius looked up and said, "He's right, sir. I think you should leave."

As Zack looked down at them he blinked in confusion. He knew the boys would never openly criticize a master, but he saw it in their eyes anyway – the look of accusation, disapproval and disappointment. Yeah, they were right. He had to get out of here ... had to get away. With one last look to make sure Randy was OK he turned and stumbled to the gate, got in his truck and drove away.

As he drove, his scrambled thoughts started to clear. He blinked, shook his head and began to question his actions. What had he done? What had he been thinking? And why? Had he been jealous of Randy? Well, Randy had been putting him down, hadn't he? So he had a right to be angry, didn't he? Hell, he was a man, a leader, he couldn't let himself be pushed around.

But then he flashed on the sight of Randy lying beaten in the dirt. And he, Zack, had done that. But he loved Randy, or used to. What had changed – was it him? If only Randy had fought back, they could have settled it in a fair fight and that would be that. Damn him, damn the man!

As he drove up the hill his mind swirled in a mass of conflicting emotions – confusion, guilt, defensiveness, anger ... yes, above all anger. Anger at himself? Anger at Randy, at the tribe, at his whole goddam life? He needed help, he needed to talk. Not Bob, not Mark. They were probably taking care of Randy right now. No, he needed a clear, objective mind. He knew where he had to go.

So he drove up and up into the hills to where the houses became bigger, grander, and he finally pulled up at Steve's gate. He didn't stop to buzz the gate. He leapt right over it, strode down the drive, his anger mounting. What the fuck was he doing here? He didn't want to be here, but he had to be. He pounded on the front door and it was opened by Steve's houseboy Tommy.

"I need to see Steve."

"Sir, Steve and Lloyd are having dinner right now but I'll see if ...

"Don't fuck with me, boy." Zack shoved Tommy aside and he staggered back against a table, knocking it over. Steve appeared and said grimly, "Zack, you do not come into my house and abuse Tommy like that. If you're gonna behave like an animal you can leave right now or I'll call the cops."

"Fuck you, man, I might have known you'd be on his side. You're his fucking brother. You, Bob, Mark, you're all on his side. Well I don't take shit from any of you, I'm tougher than any of you and I just proved that to your loser brother, you can ask him."

"I don't need to, Zack. I just got a phone call from Bob and he told me what happened."

"Sure you did, of course, you're all in this. Did he warn you off me, tell you to throw me out?"

Steve's lover Lloyd appeared from the dining room having heard the commotion. "Are you OK, Steve?" he asked, making a threatening move toward Zack.

"Yeah, yeah, buddy, thanks. I've got this, I can handle it." Steve turned to Zack who was pacing the floor with clenched fists. "Zack, would you like a drink?"

Taken off guard Zack frowned, then growled, "Yeah – Scotch – large."

Steve nodded to Tommy who poured a very large Scotch, straight up, and handed it to Zack. Steve walked to his office door and opened it. "Zack if you would like to bring your drink through to my office I'll be right with you. We'll be completely private in there."

Sullenly Zack went into the office and slumped onto a couch. Steve turned back to the other two and said, "Tommy, I'm real sorry about that. Are you OK?"

"Oh sure, sir. No problem. I'll just set the table back up."

"But will you be OK, buddy?" Lloyd asked Steve.

"Yeah, don't worry. I`ve seen guys in a state like this before." Steve chuckled. "Hell, if I can handle my own brother Randy I can surely handle Zack."

"Time for one of those unorthodox therapy treatments you specialize in, eh?" Lloyd grinned.

"Yeah, but this one's complicated. I'll have to come up with a major new remedy this time to make it come right. A guy like Zack is gonna need something real special."

********************* CHAPTER 358 *********************

When Steve went into his office and closed the door behind him Zack was slumped on the couch gazing morosely at the empty Scotch glass before him.

"Let me guess, Steve said lightly. "You wanna get drunk ... am I right?"

"Damn right," Zack growled. "Gimme another Scotch."

Steve grinned, "I'll do a deal with you – first we talk, and after that you can get totally wasted if you still want to. I'll give you all the Scotch you can drink till it's coming out of your ears, and then you can pass out right there on the couch, I'll throw a blanket over you and you can sleep it off all night. And in the morning I'll treat you to my special hangover cure – raw egg, olive oil, Tabasco, the works. It's foolproof. How's all that sound?"

But Steve's attempt at humor failed to work as Zack grunted, "Doc, don't give me that soften-the-patient-up routine you shrinks use. Why do I have to talk to you anyway?"

"You don't," Steve shrugged. "You came to me, remember, and I assume it wasn't just for the Scotch? Why did you come anyway?"

Zack made fierce eye contact for the first time. "Where the fuck else was I supposed to go – to Bob, Mark, any of those guys? They're all on Randy's side, they treat him like his own shit don't stink. I guess I thought you'd be different, but I forgot you're his damn brother so you'd be more of the same. I gotta get outa here.

"Well I certainly can't keep you here against your will, Zack. The only thing I can promise you is a private and confidential therapy session in my professional capacity of doctor. I'm trained to be objective and non-judgmental. It's your call."

Zack looked at him through desolate eyes and said, "Ah what the hell, what the fuck have I got to lose? OK doc, give it your best shot. Let's see what you got."

"Actually, Zack, the first step is to see what you've got. I'm supposed to listen to you. But before we start, I think you need this. He went over to a dresser and pulled out one of his clean T-shirts. "I assume you came straight from the construction site where you never wear a shirt. But you don't wanna sit around here shirtless, eye-popping as that sight is, so put this on.

He threw the shirt to Zack who sullenly put it on. "Also, despite what I said, I think another Scotch is in order – for both of us." Steve poured two glasses, set one on the table by Zack and took the other to his usual chair opposite the patient. He picked up a clip-board, held it up then put it back down. "See, no clip board. Just two guys, two Scotches, man-to- man. Cheers!

He raised his glass, Zack frowned, raised his slightly and responded weakly, "Cheers." He took a sip and the tension drained from his body. "Fuck, Steve, I didn't mean to jump all over you like I just did. You're a good guy, and you don't deserve that. It's just that ... fuck, man, I don't know what's happening to me. I'm coiled tight as a cobra ready to strike. I feel kinda ... kinda lost right now."

"I think you are a little lost, Zack, lost in a maze and you can't find your way out. But you know, there's always an exit to any maze – and together we'll find it. First of all, to be specific, tell me why you trashed Randy the way you did."

"Dammit, the man had it coming, has done for a long time."

"I think you mean you had your anger coming on for a long time," Steve said. "Hell, Zack, you and Randy have always been like brothers, both macho guys, bosses of the construction crew, equally dominant and, if I may say so, damn sexy together. So why this antagonism of yours?"

"Shit, Steve, you only have to look at him, striding around giving orders like he's the goddam King of the Gypsies. And look at the way he acted at Grady's place, making that entrance like royalty, with his drop-dead gorgeous lover. Then that stunt he pulled with Danny and Tommy, fucking Tommy so Danny could enjoy sloppy seconds, and then they both come out and thank him like his this big stud sex-machine.

"Oh yeah, and don't forget Grady's movie," he sneered, "all that `With very special thanks to my personal trainer' bullshit in the credits and all the boys cheering him on. What was I supposed to feel?

"Well," Steve said gently, "I'm wondering what the other senior men felt – Mark, Hassan, Pete, Adam, Jason ... "As I recall, they all seemed to be enjoying it, watching Randy have his moments basking in the sun. I may have missed something but I didn't sense that any on them felt their manhood threatened by the big boss. They're all pretty secure in their masculinity."

"Oh, and I'm not, is that it?" Zack snapped, his anger mounting. "I'm the outsider in the group, right? I wonder why that is? What's the big difference between those guys and me? Well take a good look, doc – I'm the only one that's black! That's why they look down on me."

Steve took a sharp intake of breath, clenched his jaw and shut his eyes. When he opened them they were like steel blue lasers. "Zack, when I became a therapist I took an oath that goes, `I will strive to be wise, compassionate and contained with those in my care'. In other words I have to stay objective and detached, don't ever let my own feelings and especially my anger, get in the way."

His voice rose loud and harsh. "Well, man, you just pushed me right to the edge of throwing that oath right out the fucking window. I never thought I would ever hear anyone in this tribe play the race card. Dammit to hell, man, you know it's not true, and it's an insult to all the decent members of this tribe – which means all of them!"

Zack, reeled back on the couch as if he had just been slapped ... and that's what Steve intended. Up to now Steve had brought Zack to a point where he had talked openly about his feelings toward Randy, misguided as they were. He had softened up, and now he needed a jolt, a slap in the face. Which is what Steve had just given him when Zack provided the opening.

Zack had never really seen Steve angry, never heard him shout even. And Steve's anger was directed at him! It was such a shock that all his self-delusions fled and he suddenly saw himself in a clear, hard light. And then he started to sob.

"Man, I'm sorry ... I didn't mean that ... I didn't mean any of it, it was all bullshit ... I didn't even mean to slug Randy. Dammit, I love the guy ... you got it right, we were like brothers. Steve, I don't know what's happening to me. Help me, man. I've fucked up so bad. What can I do?"

Steve smiled, "Zack, I think you just glimpsed the exit to the maze. There's a way to go yet, more twists and turns, but we'll get there. Let me just say this for now. To yourself and to others you are defined by your supreme masculinity. You are a man's man, strong, handsome, confident – second to no man. But, Zack, that's a hard pose to maintain, and doubts sometimes creep in, almost like a man of religion who, in a moment of weakness, doubts his faith.

For whatever reason you have recently been feeling emasculated, weakened, your manhood threatened. For what it's worth, I don't think it really had anything to do with Randy. He was just the guy you measured yourself against, and in your state of self-doubt you fell short, which is why you resented him and his moments of glory. But this is all temporary and you can regain your status, in your eyes and in the eyes of your buddies."

"I have to pay for it," Zack said impulsively. "I gotta pay for what I did, I gotta be punished."

Steve chuckled. "Zack, that would never be my professional advice, but I've been around this tribe long enough to know its rules and rituals, so of course you're right. Right now you're in disgrace, and your punishment has to be big enough to restore everyone's respect."

Steve sighed deeply and Zack managed a smile through his tears. "I have a feeling my 50-minute hour is up, doc."

Steve laughed. "There's a reason therapists limit their hour to 50 minutes, Zack. This shit is exhausting. So here's what I suggest. We'll resume our talk in the morning, and meanwhile I want you to spend the night here. I don't want you going back down to face the guys on your own, we're not ready for that yet. You'll have dinner with me, Lloyd and Tommy, then get a good night sleep. And I'm happy to say, you will actually fall asleep instead of passing out. That was plan B and I'm glad we never had to go there."

They stood up and Zack smiled at Steve. "Er, doc, according to the rules, is it allowed for a patient to hug his shrink?"

"If the shrink is this one and you're the patient, sure it's allowed. In fact it's mandatory."

Steve wrapped his arms round the big construction boss and felt his muscles rippling under his T-shirt. OK, Steve thought, this session went well. Now for the rest.

"You know what you need, Zack? You need a long soak in a hot bath – relaxes the muscles and soothes the mind. I'll get Tommy to run one for you." He left his office and in a few minutes Tommy came in, dressed in his usual butt-hugging black pants and gray T-shirt, with his flawless gymnast torso etched underneath.

Tommy smiled shyly at Zack. "Sir, I'm running a bath in my bathroom. Believe it or not it's the only room in this house with a tub. The rest all have great big showers. When you're ready, sir, just follow me."

Zack stood up and said, "Kid, I gotta apologize for the shitty way I behaved to you when I came in. You OK?"

"Oh, that's no problem, sir," Tommy smiled. "That was nothing ... you should see some of Steve's other patients – I hide from them. Follow me please." He turned and as he walked away Zack's eyes zeroed in on his incredible ice-skater ass clenching under his tight pants, the amazing ass that turned the whole tribe on.

When they got to Tommy's room the boy said, "Sir, your pants seem to be smothered in dirt. Must have come from the big fight that ..." He winced and blushed at his own indiscretion. "Sorry, sir ... I shouldn't have ..."

"You know about that then?"

Tommy smiled shyly, a blush spreading over his handsome features. "Well," he shrugged, "you know how news gets around in this tribe, sir."

"Oh yeah, that. I forgot," Zack grinned, even more relaxed now. He bent down and began to unlace his work boots, but Tommy said, "Here, let me get that, sir." He knelt down, unlaced the boots and pulled them off one by one.

Zack stared down at the head with the tousled blond hair. "Hey, kid, you don't have to do that."

"Oh, I'm used to it, sir. It's part of my job to make guests comfortable." He stood up, holding the boots. "I'll take these and brush the mud off, sir, and if you give me your pants I'll throw them in the washer. I'll leave one of my bathrobes out for you. You can wear it at dinner, we're real casual around here."

"Thanks, Tommy." Zack yanked open his black jeans, let them drop and stepped out of them. Then he pulled off his gray boxers and handed them and the pants to Tommy, almost shyly as he stood naked before him. "I'm sorry, kid, but the shorts may smell of jizz after ... well, after what I did to Randy. Guess you heard about that too."

"Oh, no problem, sir, I'm used to that too. In this house most of the underwear smells of ... well, you know." He blushed again, partly because of the talk of semen, partly at the sight of the naked black muscle-god, his smooth ebony skin gleaming under the bedroom lights. The blush made his handsome face even more attractive.

He went to the bathroom, turned off the taps, and came back to Zack. "The bath is all ready, sir, and you'll find your bathrobe in there. Take as long as you like, dinner won't be for a while." He turned and left, his bubble butt once again serving as a distraction for Zack from all his troubles.

Tommy took the clothes to the laundry room and before he threw them in the washer he raised the shorts to his nose and inhaled the smell of dry cum. He waited a few minutes to let a new blush subside before he rejoined Steve and Lloyd in the living room. "Everything's taken care of, sir," he said to Steve. "I'm washing those dirty jeans and ... and shorts ... and I told Zack it would be OK if he ate dinner with us in my bathrobe."

"Sure, absolutely," Steve said. "I want him to feel as welcome and comfortable as possible while he's here. He has a lot of healing to do, and this non-judgmental house is the best place for him. The guestroom is real comfortable ..." he frowned "and yet I don't feel happy about him being alone tonight. He's got a lot of demons racing round in his head and I'm afraid they might get the better of him when he thinks over and over about what he's done and the mess he's in."

"You want him to sleep with us, Steve?" Lloyd grinned, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh yeah, sure, like that wouldn't complicate things at all – Zack sleeping between Randy's brother and his lover, plus I know how you are with a gorgeous hunk like that lying beside you."

"Sandwiched between him and the gorgeous hunk on my other side," Lloyd laughed.

There was a momentary silence, then Tommy said hesitantly, "He could sleep in my room, sir."

Steve looked at him and thought it over. "Yeah, I guess," he said uncertainly. "You have very little connection to the current situation with Randy and Zack, it's true."

"Except all those times that stud gypsy has fucked your gorgeous ass, kiddo," Lloyd laughed.

"No really," Steve said, "it might work. Of course it's Zack's choice, but are you sure about this, Tommy? Zack is a bit unpredictable right now. But we would be only just down the hall and if at any time you felt uncomfortable or anything happened, one shout from you and we'll be there."

"Oh nothing bad's gonna happen, sir. I was just talking to Zack and he's very calm now."

"OK, then, we'll run it by him and see how he feels about it. Worth a try."

The table was all set for dinner when Zack appeared. Even wearing a white terrycloth bathrobe he managed to look macho. It contrasted with his smooth, ebony flesh, the belt tight round his waist and the top open enough to show the mounds of his pecks. He still looked a little tense but Steve soon put him at ease. "That robe suits you, Zack. You should wear one more often. Tommy and Lloyd will be bringing dinner out any minute. Prime rib tonight if you can handle it."

"Hell," Zack managed a grin, "right now I could handle the whole fucking cow. I suddenly realize how hungry I am after all that ... well, you know," he shrugged sheepishly.

It's good that you're appetite's back, but we'll leave the other stuff for tomorrow's session. Right now is the time to relax. Ah, here comes dinner."

A few minutes later all the food was on the table and Tommy walked round pouring wine. When he came to Zack he glanced questioningly at Steve who nodded slightly, unseen by Zack, so Tommy filled his glass, then took his seat at table.

Steve was right about the relaxation and he steered the conversation away from Zack's immediate troubles. They spoke mostly about the screening of Grady's movie, each offering his opinions, though Zack wasn't very talkative – predictably so, thought Steve.

At one point Steve chuckled and went round the table asking each of them for their favorite scene. Lloyd said any time Tarzan swung from the vines, showing off his rippling muscles. Tommy went for the scene where Tarzan fucked the servant girl, saying he liked imagining how it felt to be fucked by Grady. When Zack's turn came he shrugged casually and said, "Oh, I guess where Tarzan gets whipped by the soldiers. Kinda like some of the leather shit I get into."

He and Tommy exchanged quick glances, both of them remembering the elaborate leather scene Zack had put Tommy through when he first came to the tribe. Steve noticed the glance and figured that was a good moment to casually raise the topic of sleeping arrangements.

"Er, Zack, I forgot to mention that the guestroom here is entirely at your disposal. However, right now, speaking as your therapist, I'm a bit uncomfortable with you being all alone tonight. You'll likely lie there obsessing on all of today's bullshit churning through your head, and I'd rather we confront that together in our morning therapy session with clear minds. One option is that Tommy has offered to share his room with you. I think it's not a bad idea, but you don't have to, of course. It's your call."

Zack paused, then shrugged and, without making eye contact with anyone, especially not Tommy, said nonchalantly, "Sure, whatever. Having someone around would stop me tossing and turning and help me sleep better, and god knows I need to sleep."

"Good," Steve said with a satisfied smile, "that's settled." And he let the matter drop.

After dinner Zack said he wanted to call Darius so Steve suggested he use the phone in his office. When Darius picked up Zack said quietly, "Hey, kid. What's up?"

"Oh, hi sir. Not much actually. Randy seems OK ... you know, no one recovers from a beating like Randy does, and he's sleeping now with Bob watching over him. The house has settled down and I'm gonna spend the night with Pablo."

"Yeah, good. Look, boy, I called to make sure of one thing. I know I've been distant lately, but whatever crap I've been dealing with, and the bullshit stunt I pulled today, I don't wanna lose your respect, kid. It means a lot to me."

"Sir," Darius said evenly, "the only thing I need to know is, am I still your boy?"

"Oh course you are, Darius. That's rock solid."

"Good, then you just answered your own question, sir. I'm your boy. I love you, you're my hero, and nothing can change that."

"Thanks, kiddo, that means everything. Oh, one more thing. Steve don't want me to sleep alone tonight so the plan is for me to sleep in Tommy's room. That's fine by me, but I won't if you have a problem with it."

He could hear Darius's big smile on the other end of the phone. "No problem at all, sir. I envy you sleeping with Golden Boy. I say go for it."

At that moment Tommy was on the phone in his room seeking similar assurance from his lover Danny. He filled him in on what was happening, ending up with the plan for Zack to share his room. "But if you're not OK with that, dude, I won't do it. I wouldn't do anything that upsets you."

"Tommy, I can't think of a better influence on Zack than you right now. I'm totally fine with it. I say go for it."

As Tommy hung up the phone with a smile on his face there was a tap at the door and Zack came in. He looked around nervously as Tommy jumped up and pulled back the sheets on the bed. "Hi, sir." He too was a bit nervous. "It's a big king-size so we should be quite comfortable."

"Great." Zack untied the belt of the bathrobe, slipped it off and draped it over a chair. He was buck naked underneath. Tommy's heart missed a beat as he stared at the naked black muscle-god, with his strong, chiseled features, shaved head, and piercing gray eyes. His body gleamed as if carved in ebony and, between his muscled thighs swung his massive cock.

Talk about king-size, Tommy thought. Then he caught himself and said, "Er, would you like pajamas, or a T-shirt and shorts, sir?"

"I usually sleep like this if it's OK with you."

"It's ..." Tommy croaked and cleared his throat, "it's fine, sir. I usually sleep on the left side of the bed, sir."

"OK," Zack smiled. "The right it is then. He lay down on the bed and pulled the sheets up to his waist. Nervously Tommy pulled off his T-shirt, revealing the sculpted, fat-free torso of a gymnast. He kicked off his shoes and, with an attack of modesty, turned his back to Zack as he unbuckled his belt and lowered his tight black pants.

Zack's jaw dropped as he saw the flawless globes of his ice-skater's butt straining under the cotton fabric of his black briefs. When he turned round his cock was rock hard under the briefs, the tip poking up above the waistband. Zack could see why Darius had called Tommy by his nickname `the Golden Boy'. With his flawless physique, beautiful face and thick blond hair curling round the nape of his neck he was a spectacular young athlete.

Tommy went to the small fridge, pulled out two bottles of water and placed one on the night table beside Zack, who found himself staring up at him, his face only a foot from the bulging briefs. "Do you have everything you need, sir?"

"I sure do, kid. Thanks for offering to let me bunk in with you, Tommy. I appreciate that."

"No problem, sir." Quickly he went round the bed and slipped in under the sheets. With a charmingly shy smile he said, "Goodnight, sir. Sleep well." Then turned his back to him and closed his eyes.

"'Night, Tommy." Zack sighed. The tender sweetness of this beautiful young man was a complete contrast from the ugliness of Zack's day. And suddenly the contrast got to him, magnifying the savagery and hostility of his own behavior. This is what life should be like, sleeping beside a handsome blond jock, just feeling him close, hearing his breathing getting deeper as he drifted into sleep.

Fuck, he had screwed everything up, Zack thought, and he wasn't sure why anymore. Dammit, he loved Randy like a brother and yet he had thrashed him even as Randy refused to defend himself. The story would be all round the tribe by now and he would be a pariah, and not because he was a black man as he had so stupidly blurted out to Steve. Man, that was a crazy thing to say!

By contrast, in this house he had found comfort and respect, with gentle, non-judgmental words from Steve, easy companionship at the dinner table, and now the kindness of the handsome boy lying next to him. But would he ever receive the same treatment from the tribe after what he had done? Damn, he loved those guys and their boys and right now they must all hate him.

Unable to rid his mind of his despair and anger at himself he tossed and turned and ended up on his side, his back to Tommy, sobbing quietly to himself.

Tommy's heavy breathing was not, as Zack had assumed, because he was sleeping. It was the mere proximity of this incredibly sexual man that made his heart beat and his breath heave. He felt Zack toss and turn behind him and now heard what sounded like sobs, incredible as that was from a man as powerful as this.

He didn't know what to do ... but felt he had to do something. He plucked up his courage and, without turning round, said, "Sir, I think you are unhappy. Would it help if I touched you, sir?"

Silence for a moment, the Zack's voice. "Sorry, kid, I thought you were asleep. But yeah, I could use the feel of human flesh other than my own."

Tommy turned over and scooted over to Zack. When his chest touched his back he hesitantly draped his arm over him and his hand rested on his chest. Zack folded his hands over Tommy's and murmured, "Thanks, kid. Feels great."

They lay still like that for a while, but Tommy got nervous because the bulge in his briefs was pressing against Zack's ass and he felt sure Zack could feel his heart pounding against his back. So he pulled away.

"Ah, don't do that, boy," Zack said and turned round to face him. "It felt so good, a real warm heart beating against me." Their gaze met and Tommy found himself staring into Zack's steel gray eyes. They were still moist and Tommy reached up to brush the tears from Zack's cheeks.

"You know," Zack grinned, "you're a whole different guy from the kid who first came to the tribe."

"Oh, I hope so, sir. Back then I was full of ego and resentment – to the young waiter Danny who I treated so bad `cos he was so cute, to the hotel guests who paid me to have sex with them, but mostly, I realize now, resentment of myself because of my insecurities. I guess I acted mean back then just like you've been doing, sir ..." He stopped in alarm. "Oh, sir, I'm sorry, sir, that just slipped out. I didn't mean to ..."

"Nah it's OK, Tommy, you're right and it's no more than I deserve." He reflected, then smiled. "As I recall, way back then when we first met I was pretty mean to you too, putting you through that long, heavy leather scene."

"Oh, that wasn't mean, sir. I ended up loving it. I still remember every bit of it, the way you and Darius were both in leather and you made me watch while you tied Darius up and whipped him. You told me the only way you'd stop is if I begged Darius to fuck me with that huge cock of his. I couldn't stand seeing his pain so I did as you told me and he fucked me while you kissed me."

"Yeah that was some scene," Zack chuckled.

"Truth is, sir, I still jerk off thinking about it. Not so much the feeling of Darius's cock in my ass, though that was incredible, but more the memory of you kissing me, and then the way you watched me while Darius reamed my ass. I still remember the taste of your lips, sir."

"Yeah," Zack smiled, "that was something. Here ..." He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Tommy's, gently at first but then in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. Tommy almost came in his briefs at the taste and smell of this strong, powerful man, and Zack pulled off him just in time. "Can't remember how the scene ended though."

"Oh I do, sir. I thought for sure you were gonna fuck me after Darius came inside me, but you didn't. You just untied me and took me back across the street to Pablo and the other guys. You never did fuck me."

"No, that's right, I didn't fuck you, did I? Jesus, what an idiot to miss out on a chance like that, you with that sensational ass and all. I remember when I watched you I focused on your perfect butt, not my boy's ten inches driving unto it."

"I did imagine you fucking me, sir, but I figured you didn't like me `cos I was such an arrogant prick back then."

"Nah, wasn't that, kid. Can't remember what bullshit stuff I was thinking." His face clouded over. "Jesus, we do some stupid things sometimes, don't we – especially me, especially lately, all that anger crap and trashing Randy and all. I shouldn't a' done that." Then he grinned ruefully. "But I damn well shoulda' fucked you back then."

There was a long silence as they thought about that long-ago time. Then Tommy screwed up his courage again and said, "Would you like to fuck me now, sir?"

Zack smiled at him. "You're one plucky kid, boy, after the way I hammered Randy's ass and left him near unconscious in the dirt. Ain't you scared of me?"

"Not at all, sir. You won't hurt me – I see it in your eyes."

Zack grinned, "OK, boy, but first I wanna feast my eyes on your ass. Turn over."

Tommy turned over on his stomach and Zack looked down at the ass-bulge under his briefs, rising up from his slim, tight waist. He bent down and licked the black briefs stretched over the cheeks, feeling them flex under his tongue, then gently bit the cheeks through the thin fabric. He pulled back, yanked the briefs down over his ass and legs, reached forward and stuffed them in Tommy's mouth (the reflex of a leather master).

He gazed down at the flawless white globes, contrasting against his tanned flesh at the sharp tan lines at his waist and thighs. "Oh shit, man, that is one gorgeous fucking ass," Zack growled. Impulsively the leatherman slapped the ass cheeks, watching them bounce under his hands as faint red handprints appeared on the white flesh. "Man, I gotta have that ass."

He pulled the cheeks apart, bent down and buried his face between them, sucking slurping and pushing his tongue deep into the soft velvet ass. After eating him out he pulled back, his eyes blazing and said again, "I gotta have that ass boy. I gotta fuck it."

He flipped Tommy over on his back, pulled the gag from his mouth and stroked his own iron hard shaft. He started to reach for lube by the bed but Tommy said, "No, please, sir. I don't need that. I really wanna feel your cock in me, sir."

"That's my boy," Zack grinned, then spat in his hand and stroked his cock again. He grabbed Tommy's legs, pushed them in the air and pressed the head of his dick against his hole. "Thanks for this, kid. Right now I really needed to show that I can be a loving, gentle guy and not the animal I was today. But most of all, boy, I want your beautiful ass."

With exquisite tenderness he eased his cock over the sphincter and slowly pushed it deeper and deeper until Tommy felt it touch the sensitive depths of his ass and felt the wiry pubic hair chafe against his ass cheeks. Zack looked down at the young jock's ecstatic face and asked, "You feel OK, boy. Am I hurting you?"

"It feels incredible, sir. Can I touch you?"

Zack grinned, "You can do anything you like, kid, as long as you let me keep my dick in your ass." Tommy reached up and ran his palms over the smooth, ebony skin of Zack's pecs, down his lats and over the hard ridges of his eight-pack abs, his muscles rippling as his long shaft slid gently in and out of his ass.

Tommy sighed deeply in the euphoric sensation of this naked black construction worker taking possession of his ass and making love to it. Zack pushed his shoulders against the legs, leaned forward between them and rested his hands on the bed on either side of Tommy's head. The boy gazed up into the penetrating gray eyes just above him and heard Zack's deep voice.

"Man, that ass is fucking beautiful ... feels so damn good. I've heard you love getting it ploughed by Randy with one of his savage fucks. I can do that too if you want it, just as fierce as him."

"I know you can, sir, I've seen you do it to Darius. But sir, this feels awesome – a big leather master who fucks hard, but who's being gentle with me, making love to my ass. Makes it so sexy, feeling the tenderness of such a powerful man. Oh ... you feel so perfect inside me, sir. Make love to me, sir, please."

Zack moved his hands and clamped them round Tommy's wrists, pinning them to the bed. The boy groaned with the exquisite contrast of being the prisoner of this rugged leatherman, at his mercy, but feeling sensitivity instead of savagery.

And as Zack continued to ease his cock slowly in and out of the beautiful blond gymnast he had an epiphany, a sudden realization that manhood was not about a display of force, but a restraint of that force. It was what Bob always had, a kindness and sensitivity that made him such a glorious man. And Randy had never been as macho as when he had restrained himself from fighting back and endured a beating when Zack attacked him.

Zack knew he could plunder this boy's ass but all he wanted to do now was make love to him. "Tommy, you're so good for me ... I wanna make love to you for a long, long time. Is that OK?"

"For as long as you want, sir. Please, sir, would you kiss me?"

Zack bent down and licked Tommy's lips, then brushed them with his own full lips, sliding their mouths against each other. He pressed open the boy's mouth with his tongue and pushed it inside. Their mouths clamped together, their tongues pressing against each other as they shared the same air, inhaling and exhaling in complete harmony. And all the time the thick black cock glided in and out of the Golden Boy's perfect ass.

As Zack had promised, it went on and on. They kissed, hugged, rolled over on the bed and fucked in every position. When Tommy lay on his stomach Zack looked down and marveled at the sight of his own long black pole disappearing between the gymnast's flawless white globes.

After what seemed like an eternity Zack smiled down at the young athlete who was now writhing on his back as Zack again pinned his wrists to the bed. "Kid, I could keep this up for hours – except for one thing – my balls are fit to burst. I gotta bust my load in your ass, boy. You wanna touch your cock so you can cum too?"

"I don't need to, sir. I love being your prisoner, feeling your cock in my ass, and I'll cum as soon as I feel your juice inside me."

"OK, boy, here's what we're gonna do ..." His strong, steady gaze mesmerized Tommy who felt himself drowning in the hypnotic gray eyes. It was a perfect union between men who were so different – a rugged black construction worker and a handsome fair-haired young jock. They were united by their mutual excitement, their sensuality, and their need to love and be loved.

And that is what drove them now to their climax. Zack's voice was soft and deep. "I'm gonna cum, now, boy. I'm gonna pump my sperm in that beautiful ass, and I wanna see your pretty body covered in your own jizz. Here it comes, boy. Yeah ... oh shit ... my balls are on fire, jizz racing up my dick and ... aaahh!"

His cock swelled and exploded deep inside Tommy who clenched his ass round the shaft that had made love to it for so long. He stared up at the chiseled ebony face, the square jaw, the shaved head and yelled, "Thank you, sir ... thank you, I ... aaagh!"

Zack looked down, enthralled by the sight of the beautiful young athlete spurting ribbons of white juice all over his abs, his chest, neck and face, stream after stream as his head thrashed from side to side in ecstasy.

And then, at last they were drained, silent, breath heaving as they stared at each other in disbelief. It was a long time before their heartbeats slowed and Zack smiled, "Hell, I don't wanna take my dick out of your ass, kiddo. Feels like it belongs there."

"Then don't take it out, sir. Leave it there." He wriggled over onto his side and Zack lay pressed behind him, his cock still firmly buried in his ass. Zack folded his arm over him and said, "Thank you, Tommy. That is just what I needed. I see everything clearly now, and I'm ready to face the tribe. Can we, er ... can we do this again sometime soon."

"Whenever you want sir," Tommy smiled. "You're the boss."

And, for the first time in a long while, Zack felt like one.

While this act of healing and redemption was taken place, another couple was coping with the waves of discord caused by the events of the day, and specifically the one-sided fight between Randy and Zack. Their boys Pablo and Darius were in the bedroom they shared getting ready for bed but barely able to make eye contact.

In a way these two senior boys had dual allegiances. They were, of course, devotedly loyal to their masters, but they were also lovers and had been ever since the early days of the tribe. Normally this would not have presented a problem as Randy and Zack respected and loved each other as much as their boys loved each other. But the violent eruption today had upset that balance and presented a challenge to the boys.

For Pablo, Randy was his hero, a leader among men, a street fighter able to demolish any man. So it had been agonizing to watch him take a brutal beating from Zack that left him bruised and unconscious in the dirt.

The fight had been equally painful for Darius, having watched his idol, the black leather master, fall apart emotionally and lose control to the point where he had launched an unprovoked attack on Randy, a man Zack had always loved like a brother.

Pablo was left with anger and an urge to avenge his master. Darius was full of guilt and disappointment. The boys always mirrored their masters so it was inevitable that the tension between the men would be reflected in their boys. And that tension was now heavy in the air as the boys took off the clothes and faced the prospect of sharing their bed.

It was Darius who broke the ice. "Look, dude, I can't stand this. We all know what happened and, although I'm Zack's boy and I love and defend him, I gotta admit that what he did to Randy was wrong. It's up to them to sort that out but we gotta sort us out too. Zack's gonna pay a price to Randy, which means I gotta pay a price to you. And there's only on way to do that. You gotta do to me what Zack did to Randy."

Pablo frowned. "Look, dude, I admit I'm good and mad, but I don't wanna fight you."

"I know ... I didn't mean that. Not the fight, but what Zack did to Randy after – holding him down and reaming his ass. Man, you gotta do that to me. It's the only way we're gonna get through this." He walked over to a corner and grabbed a wooden pole leaning against the wall, a pole they often used across their shoulders in standing hip rotation exercises.

"It has to be the same, dude. You remember how Zack held Randy down with a plank across his back, then fucked his ass. You gotta do it, man."

Darius's description brought the ugly scene vividly back to Pablo's mind and his anger surged. He took the pole from Darius and used it to shove him roughly on the bed. Darius fell on his stomach and stretched his arms up on the bed in an implicit gesture of surrender.

As Pablo looked down at him the gleaming black body roused him sexually, as it always did, but it also reminded him of Zack's muscular black body flexing as he fucked Randy. Yeah, he had to do this to avenge his master on Zack's boy. "OK, man, a dry fuck like Zack did to Randy."

Pablo knelt on the bed between Darius's spread legs, leaned forward and pressed the bar down on the small of his back, trapping him just as Zack had done with the plank. Pablo's cock was rock hard, partly at the sight of his naked lover but also because of the adrenaline and anger flowing through him. He knew that anger always gave Randy a hard-on too.

He shoved his cock between the hard cheeks of his lover's ass and said, as much to Zack as to his surrogate Darius, "Fuck you, man. You don't get to torture my guy the way you did. You do that, you answer to his boy."

With all the strength he could muster Pablo drove his dry cock violently into Darius's ass, making him howl in pain. But Palo wasn't hearing Darius, he was hearing the screams of his hero Randy suffering the brutal pounding from Zack. That searing memory stoked his anger and spurred him on to a savage fuck as Darius howled and pounded his fists on the bed in pain.

The noise was so loud that neither of them heard the knock on the door at first. But when the banging grew louder Pablo growled, "Fuck!" He raised his head and yelled angrily, "Who the fuck is it?"

"It's Bob."

"Shit," Pablo grunted, but he could never ignore Randy's lover Bob, so he pulled his dick out, strode to the door and yanked it open. "Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to yell at you, sir."

"Pablo you had every right, and it's I who apologize for barging in like this. But I had to."

"Is it Randy, sir?" Pablo asked with alarm. "Is he doing OK? Has anything happened?"

"He's fine, just fine ... fast asleep. Says he's gotta get up early for work tomorrow. Huh, I've never known a guy recover from a beating as quickly as him. The man has a body of cast iron and a jaw of steel. Comes from being a street fighter most of his life, I guess. But, er, this is kind of about him. Can I come in?"

"Of course, sorry, sir." Pablo stepped aside and Bob came in. He looked down at Darius lying face down on the bed with the wooden pole across the small of his back. "Are you OK, Darius?"

Darius turned over and flashed his roguish grin. "No bones broken, sir. Did you come to rescue me?"

"Not exactly, Darius," Bob smiled. "I came to rescue you both – from yourselves." He picked up the rod and held it out disdainfully at arms' length. "Get rid of this thing, will you Pablo?" Then he sat on the bed, Pablo sat next to him and Darius pulled himself up to lean against the pillows.

"Look, guys," Bob said, "it's obvious what I interrupted but I haven't come to lecture you – you're not my boys after all. I just want to steer you in the right direction. I should have spoken to you earlier. Believe me, I understand why you were doing what you were doing. You were reacting to that horrific scene earlier and I can only imagine how difficult it was to watch. And in a way you were continuing the battle between the two men – what you would call payback time."

He smiled, "You boys have always copied your masters in everything they do, their moods and their actions, and in a way that does you credit. But guys, you're not boys anymore – you are sturdy young men with your own strong personalities and opinions. So try to step back and see the situation for what it is, without that knee-jerk reaction to fight your men's battles for them. Their problems, their mistakes are their own, not yours. I have never believed in that old biblical saying, `The sins of the father shall be visited on the sons.'

"I can tell you that Randy does not hate Zack for what he did. He knows Zack is going through a tough time, doubting himself as we all do from time to time. He looks into Zack's troubled eyes and feels sorry for him – that's why he didn't fight back. Zack acted like a wounded animal and Randy was good enough and tough enough to take what he dished out without retaliating."

Bob sighed. "Look, guys, there has been enough pain and violence around here for one day and I hate to see you boys continuing the cycle of anger and retribution. You love each other, for heaven's sake, and have done for years. So don't fight each other. Try to be generous instead, and if you want to copy anyone, try to copy Randy's instinct of compassion and forgiveness toward his buddy."

Bob stood up and smiled. "Speech over. You are both great guys, growing up well, and a credit to Randy and Zack. I love you both and I know you'll find your way through this." He squeezed their shoulders – "goodnight boys" – and walked quickly from the room.

After he left Pablo and Darius looked at each other in silence, and Pablo's eyes brimmed with tears. "Dude, I never meant to hurt you. I was just ... I mean I was feeling ..."

"I know, I know, kiddo. Don't sweat it. Like Bob said, we love each other and that ain't gonna change any time soon. So what do we do now, dude?"

Pablo grinned his crooked grin that always melted Darius's heart. "Well, what we usually do when we go to bed. Remember our motto? `Your cock and my ass, a match made in heaven.' What say we just pick up where our men left off, only minus the anger and bullshit? If you want to, that is."

Darius frowned, "Kid, are you seriously asking me if I wanna fuck your ass? Think back, dude, think hard. Can you ever remember a time when I haven't wanted to plough that gorgeous match-made-in-heaven butt of yours? `Course you can't." His face lit up with the gleaming smile Pablo knew so well. "So lay back on the damn bed, dude, and flash that ass."

Trembling with anticipation Pablo lay on his back, clamped his hands behind his knees and pulled his legs back, giving his lover an uninterrupted view of his waiting ass. Darius's cock instantly rose to its full ten-inch glory. "See what you do to me, man?" He dipped his fingers in the ever-open jar of lube by the bed and greased up his cock. "As I recall, I don't think I told you lately how much I love you. Well, I love you, man – and I'm gonna show you."

He leaned forward over the muscle-jock body and stared down at the dark, sexy Mestizo face with its high cheek-bones, almond-shaped eyes and thick black hair. "Beautiful, man. The firm's hot stud mechanic. Fucking beautiful. Here, you want all ten inches?"

"Every last black inch, big guy," Pablo grinned and sighed deeply as he felt the long pole sliding endlessly inside him. His eyes opened wide, his heart beat faster and he said, "Oh, man, that's the way to fuck. Those guys got it all wrong. They should copy their boys for once. Let's show them, stud."

And so Darius made love to Pablo's ass – for the millionth time, only this time was different. They cast aside all the anger, all the bullshit and let love take their place – the love, compassion and generosity that Bob had proposed. Pablo was in heaven as he gazed up at his sexy lover, his coffee-colored skin, handsome face, finely etched features and those amazing pale green eyes. And that cock, that long shaft that seemed to take minutes to slide all the way inside him and pull slowly all the way back out.

Darius grinned, "You ready for a nice long, long fuck, dude, from a hot stud black boy?"

"What do you think, asshole?" Pablo laughed. "Kiss me, you black beauty."

Darius leaned forward and their mouths met in a long passionate embrace. And that's how they remained for what seemed like eternity, Darius's muscled body pressing down on Pablo, their mouths locked together, and all the time that long thick shaft moving inside Pablo's stunning ass. Truly a match made in heaven.

And when at long last their orgasms came, there were no words, no prompting, just an outpouring of juice that washed away all traces of strife.

Minutes later their lay on their sides breathing heavily and contentedly, with Pablo's hand resting on Darius's relaxed cock. Darius sighed, "Jesus, kiddo, that was the best, the absolute best. I feel great ... and you know, I think everything's gonna work out just fine."

"Me too," Pablo said, "after those guys have played out the last act – Zack's penance to the tribe. It's the rule, the ritual. Has to be something real special too. I wonder what Doc Steve has in mind."

"Dunno, but the doc always comes up with a punishment that fits the crime. You do the math."

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 359

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 invite 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. Click on the `Our Story' tab to read the current chapter, or click on the green button to browse all the chapter synopses. Enjoy