A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 45 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER Having been thrashed and humiliated by the muscle-god cop Mark, Randy fiercely reasserts his sexual dominance over Bob and Pablo. Now the trial of strength between Mark and Randy becomes a contest of raw sexual power. Mark says, "OK, we know the muscle-stud can take a beating ... but let's see if he can resist that," and he points to his own stunning reflection in the mirror.

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A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - Part 45

Randy lay on the ground, beaten and humiliated. The handsome, uniformed cop, Mark, looked down at the shirtless stud's dark, macho face, now streaked with dirt and tears, and jabbed a finger toward him.

"I'm warning you, you worthless piece of shit. If you ever mess with me again, if you come within a mile of my boy, so help me I'll finish you off. I'll kill you man. I swear I'll kill you."

He picked up his bag, slung it over his shoulder and grabbed the arm of the awestruck Jamie.

"Come on, kid. We're out of here."

As Bob knelt back down at Randy's side he heard car doors slam and the squeal of tires as Mark's truck roared away from the house.

Bob leaned down to touch the beaten construction worker, his naked torso covered in dirt and bruises, but Randy shook him off. Slowly, painfully, he eased himself onto his knees, then managed to stand upright, swaying unsteadily. Without a glance at Bob he walked haltingly back to the house. Bob knew better than to follow. The big alpha male needed to recover on his own.

"Is the coast clear, sir?"

Darius had come from his own house and looked enquiringly at Bob.

"Darius. Do you know what happened today?"

"Mark asked me the same question, sir."

"And did you tell him?"

"I did, sir. All of it. He said if I didn't he would ..."

"OK, I get it. Now you'll tell me. Everything. Don't leave anything out."

So, for the second time that day, Darius poured out the whole story, how it had started when Jamie had an accident on the construction site, how Randy had insisted that he keep working and how Jamie had refused, defied him.

"Trouble was, sir, Jamie talked a lot about Mark ... how Mark was his master, not Randy, and how Mark would protect him. I think that's what really made Randy mad. He really wanted to punish Mark, not Jamie, and I think ...

"I get the picture Darius. I don't need you to tell me what you think. What happened next?"

Darius gulped and took a deep breath. He told Bob how Randy had dragged Jamie to the trailer, beaten his ass and then fucked him.

"But then something strange happened. The fucking got slower, gentle, and I could see that Jamie was kinda hypnotized by Randy's incredibly sexual ... well you know, sir ... probably better than anyone ... what a stud Randy can be and ...

"Yes, yes, I get the picture, Darius."

Anyway, Jamie was loving getting fucked and then he shot his load without touching himself. But then he realized what he had done ... he had given his ass to Randy. And Randy taunted him and said that he was the master, he was the best, and Mark could go fuck himself, and then he kicked Jamie out and ...

"Thank you Darius. You can stop there. I can imagine the rest."

But Darius was in full flood and everything poured out in a rush. "Anyway, Mark and Jamie were leaving the house when Randy showed up and Mark thrashed him, really pummeled him big time. But then even Mark started to get turned on and Randy taunted him and said that he could turn anyone on and Jamie's ass was his. Mark started choking the life out of him. Anyway, right about then you came in and ... I guess you saved his life, sir, and then ..."

"OK, Darius, that's enough! Stop talking. Now!"

"Sorry, sir."

"Now, here's what you do. You go back to your house and carry on as normally as you can. I'll handle this now."

"And Pablo, sir?"

Bob frowned. "OK, when he comes home you tell him everything. Everyone else knows so it's only fair to include him. Anyway, you've got a mouth like a megaphone. No way you could keep quiet."

"OK, sir."

"But don't exaggerate and ... this time I mean it, kid ... don't fantasize."

Darius grinned. "Hard not to, sir. You know me." Then on Bob's stern look, "OK, sir. Got it. Just the facts." He looked over at the house. "Good luck, sir."

Bob put his arm round the earnest looking young black man. "You're a good kid Darius. Even if you do run off at the mouth sometimes."

Darius grinned, then walked back to his house. Bob heaved a big sigh and looked over at the door Randy had gone through.

"Here goes," he said to himself.

Randy was in the bedroom, slumped in an armchair, nursing a beer. He hadn't cleaned himself up, still shirtless, wearing his work pants and boots. Bruised and covered in dirt he was a mess. He didn't look up as Bob came in, just stared into the distance. Bob paused, then cleared his throat."

"Hey, buddy. I just wanted to say ..." But Randy cut him off and sprang to his feet.

"Not a word from you. You don't say a fucking word."

"Sorry, sir."

"On the bed!"

Bob was still wearing his formal work clothes ... suit and tie ... but without hesitation he lay on his back in the bed. Randy moved fast. He pulled off Bob's shoes, unbuckled his pants, grabbed them by the bottom and pulled them off. Wearing only his shirt and tie, and his boxers, Bob stared up at the shirtless man towering over him, his bruised body heaving.

Randy snarled, "What do you see, man?"

"My master, sir." Bob was fearful of the wild, demonic look on Randy's dark face, but he sensed what he wanted. Only half an hour before, Randy had been a broken, defeated wreck, groveling at the feet of the uniformed cop who had thrashed him. Now, despite his pain-racked body, it was time to reassert himself.

"Who does your ass belong to?"

"You, sir."

"Damn right, it does."

Randy reached down, grabbed Bob's shorts and with one violent heave, tore them off his body. He knelt on the bed, tore open his own fly buttons and pulled out his roaring hard cock. He grabbed Bob's ankles, pushed the legs up high and backward, and in one swift move, plunged his thick cock into his slave's hole, burying it deep in his gut.

Bob's head flew backward and he screamed as a shaft of intense pain pierced his body. He knew what was coming. The ass fucking was savage, powered by all Randy's pent up rage, the agony of defeat, the memory of his complete humiliation at the hands of the cop. This glorious man beneath him, his beautiful lover, would bear the brunt of his fury, inch by painful inch.

"What are you, asshole?"

"Your slave, sir. Fuck my ass, sir. You own it."

The brutal attack continued for a long time until gradually it slowed. Randy looked down at the agonized face and spoke softly.

"I love you, man. Thank God you're here."

Bob ran his hands over the magnificent bulging chest covered in short black hair. His fingers ran over the bruises and welts, then rubbed against the ravaged nipples. He saw a face that, though covered in mud and bruises, was the most masculine, powerful, erotic face he had ever seen. This man could do anything to him. He felt every inch of the long shaft slowly penetrating deep inside his body.

"What do you see, man?" Randy growled.

"I see my master. God, you're beautiful. I see the man who tied me up the first night we met, whipped me, thrashed me, made me crawl. The man who made me his slave. I will always want that, sir. I will always be your slave."

Randy opened Bob's shirt and fell forward on top of his bare chest, as he kept fucking his ass. Reaching upward he pinned Bob's wrists to the bed. Their faces were inches apart and Randy gazed into the soft brown eyes. "You know what I need, don't you."

"Of course, sir. Whenever you tell me."

Randy increased the rhythm of the piston plunging into the hot, moist hole and both men were breathing heavily. Their gaze intensified and each saw his reflection in the other man's eyes. They both smiled as, once more, they felt themselves cross that threshold where their souls merged, they became one man, joined together forever in a mystical union that went beyond their understanding.

"You ready, buddy?"

"Of course."

"Ok, man. Now!"

And instantly they both felt Bob's cock stiffen between them, felt the hot liquid spurt spontaneously between their bodies, soaking their stomach and chest. At the same time Randy's orgasm erupted deep inside his lover's ass. As Bob's cock continued to pour his juice Randy rubbed his chest against his lover's. Their torsos were sliding together on the lake of semen between them.

"I knew I could make you do that ... cum without touching yourself," Randy breathed.

"Of course. You always can. That's why you're the master. You are the best."

Consciously or not, Bob was echoing the words Randy himself had used when he had taunted Jamie, and later Mark. Bob knew that, after his savage beating, the big construction worker needed affirmation that his incredible sexual power, his very masculinity, was still intact. And it was ... beyond a doubt.

Randy gazed into Bob's eyes. "God I love you, man. You're my life. I know I can be a total fuckup sometimes but ... but whatever I do, man ... never leave me."

"Not a chance," Bob smiled. "I couldn't live without you. Simple as that."

But the harmony that Bob and Randy had re-established did not disperse the storm clouds that hung over the house. There was an air of gloom as Bob and Randy mostly stayed together in their house, while the other pair of lovers, Darius and Pablo, kept to theirs.

Everyone was deeply conscious of the void in their lives that had previously been filled by Mark and Jamie. Their absence floated softly over the house, causing a pall of silence just as falling snow muffles all sound.

"Wonder how they're doing?" Pablo asked Darius a week or so later.

"I miss Jamie," Darius said. "Never thought I would, but I do. He was a cool guy. Miss the big cop, too. God he was gorgeous."

"You're talking about them in the past tense," Pablo said. "I just wish I knew they were OK."

As it turned out Pablo's wish would be answered a few days later as he worked at his mechanic's job in the Police Department Motor Pool. His supervisor called for attention and the guys stopped work.

"OK, we got ourselves a new recruit, a trainee. I know you're all busy as hell but does anyone feel like taking on this guy, showing him the ropes?" Next to the supervisor stood Jamie.

Pablo knew Jamie had been fired by Randy and he quickly guessed that Mark had found him this job as a trainee, just as he had got Pablo his job there. And just as quickly Pablo raised his hand.

"Er ... I can take him on, sir. Actually I know him so we'll have no trouble working together."

"OK, thanks, kid. Any problems, you come to me." And they all got back to work.

Jamie came shyly over to Pablo. "Thanks, man. Didn't think you'd want to even speak to me after everything that went down."

"Hey, dude. You're my friend. I've missed you."

"Me too." Rather formally Jamie extended his hand and, just as formally, Pablo shook it. He pulled Jamie round to look under the hood of the car he was working on. They were soon deep in animated conversation about the powerful, souped-up engine and the cars and bikes that came in for service. Pablo was a good teacher and they worked amiably together.

When the break came they sat on a bench soaking up the sun. They both knew that the subject had to be broached.

"So ..." Pablo began hesitantly. "You doing OK?'

"Sure ... fine. How's Darius?"

"He's great. Hell, you know Darius. Never shuts up, always fantasizing about something new."

Jamie smiled, "I've missed you guys."

"Us too. You and Mark are still ...? "

"Sure. He's great. We're doing great. He took a sublease on the apartment of a buddy who's out of town and we're doing real well there. Closer than ever."

"You're really in love with him, aren't you, Jamie?

"I worship him, Pablo. He's my life."

When he got home Pablo knew that he had to speak to Randy. Even though Randy was his adoptive father he had kept his distance from the young guy since the big fight. But Pablo plucked up his courage and knocked on Randy's bedroom door. He knew he was alone in there.

The door opened and there he was. Pablo took a sharp intake of breath. Randy was barefoot, wearing jeans and a white V-necked T-shirt stretched over his magnificent chest. He looked stunning, and his dark beauty always took Pablo's breath away. But his voice was cold.

"You want something, kid?"

Pablo cleared his throat. "I wanted to tell you something, sir. I thought that I should. Jamie was hired as a trainee at the Motor Pool today and I volunteered to train him. So we're working together. I hope you're OK with that."

Randy frowned and clenched his fists. "Why the fuck did you go and do something like that? Why d'you have to hook up with him of all guys."

"Because he's my friend, sir." Pablo stood tall as he confronted Randy confidently.

"He's your ... ?" But Randy trailed off as he looked at the assertive young man. Again he had a shock of recognition as he saw himself in Pablo. He had to admire his pluck and his loyalty to a friend, offering him support despite everything that happened. Randy softened.

"Well, OK. Do what you want."

There was an uneasy silence. "Is there something else?" Randy growled. Pablo shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.

"For God's sake, kid. What do you want from me?"

Pablo looked directly into his eyes. "I want you to touch me, sir."

Taken aback Randy saw tears welling in the kid's eyes. It was like a body blow to the big man. He had been nursing all kinds of anger and grudges this last week, and here was this brave, confident kid who had offered friendship to the guy he had fired, and who now just wanted to feel the touch of the man he most admired in the world. Randy felt his own eyes getting moist and he took Pablo into a tight embrace.

"I've missed you, kiddo," he whispered in his ear.

"Me too, sir. I love you sir, you know that."

"I know, son. You'll always be my boy. You know that too."

They clung onto each other for a long time in silence and both their dicks stirred in their pants. Suddenly Randy pulled back. He quickly put his hands on Pablo's T-shirt and pulled it over his head. He unbuttoned the kid's shorts and they fell round his bare feet along with his boxers. Randy put his hands on the boy's waist, picked up the naked body and threw it down onto the bed.

His wind knocked out of him, the startled youngster looked up at the magnificent man standing over him. Randy kicked off his jeans and, now wearing only the V-necked T-shirt, he knelt before Pablo and pushed his legs back over his head.

"I'll touch you alright, kid. I've missed fucking you. I'm gonna make love to you, Pablo."

Spellbound Pablo reached up and put his palms against the T-shirt, feeling the hard chest muscles flexing underneath. He ran his hands up, over the broad shoulders, down through the hair at the V-neck and over the stomach, feeling the ridges of the eight-pack abs. He gasped at the incredible beauty of the man, at the steel blue eyes, the square, stubbled jaw, and the tangle of black hair falling over his brow. He was always awestruck by his beauty, as if he were seeing him for the first time.

"Please, sir," he breathed, and he groaned with the sheer pleasure of feeling the hard shaft enter him and slide easily inside him. "Oh, God. You're so beautiful, sir. You're my master. Please fuck my ass."

And Randy did just that, for a long, long time, easing his cock repeatedly into the furnace of the boy's ass. He was soon sweating through his T-shirt that clung to his torso, his muscles clearly etched beneath the wet cotton. He paused, put his hands up behind his neck and pulled the shirt clean off.

Pablo whimpered as he looked up at the hard slabs of the incredible pecs, rivers of sweat running down through the short, black hair covering the bare chest. The stunning, dark demon face looked down at him as the fucking continued. Finally Randy grabbed Pablo's wrists and pinned them down to the bed, just as he had done to Bob. And he made the same demand as he had then.

"You know what you have to do now," Randy breathed.

"Absolutely, sir."

"You ready?"

"Absolutely, sir."

With one final heave Randy plunged his huge cock deep inside the trembling ass. "OK, kiddo. Now!"

And Pablo's rigid cock jerked and began streaming cum upward so high that it splashed his face and hair, then ran all over the perfect muscles of his young body. He moaned as he felt his master's juice pouring inside him.

Once again Randy had made a man cum without touching himself. Once again he had asserted his own incredible raw masculinity that no man was able to resist. Once again Randy had proved that he was the supreme master.

As if there had ever been any doubt.

A few days later there was another contact between the two sides. In the middle of the day Bob happened to be working at home, alone in the house. He heard the latch of the gate and looked through the window to see Mark striding across the lawn. Quickly Bob ran downstairs and caught up with him. Mark whirled round and they looked at each other uneasily.

"Oh it's you," Mark said. "I didn't think anyone would be home. I just came to pick up the rest of our stuff. I won't be long." He turned to go but Bob touched his arm.

"Hey, man. Wait." Mark hesitated.

"I never did thank you for what you did ... letting Randy go. I know you could've killed him. I've head the whole story and I understand your anger. Anyone would have ..." But Mark cut him off.

"Sure, man. Anyway, I didn't come here to discuss it. There's no going back."

Bob's deep brown eyes fixed Mark's in a penetrating gaze. "I've missed you, Mark."

Mark softened. "I've missed you too, man. Especially you."

Involuntarily they fell into a big, tight bear hug. They felt the warmth of each other, the muscular physique under the clothes, and each man was aware of a surge of heat in his groin. Embarrassed, they pulled apart and gazed at each other.

"Oh what the hell," said Bob. "I may never see you again, man." He put his hand behind Mark's head and pulled his face forward, locking his mouth onto his lips. Surprised, Mark's first reflex was to pull back, but he let the embrace continue. The uniformed cop and the muscular business executive stood in the middle of the lawn, grinding their lips together, kissing passionately. The warmth in the groin became a full hard-on.

Then they both came to their senses and pulled apart. Both men were blushing. Bob spoke first.

"Jeez, I'm sorry, man, I ..." but Mark cut him off

"You're one hell of a guy, Bob. I respect the hell out of you. If things were different I ..." but his words died away."

Bob smiled. "You remember when we first met?"

Marked grinned back. "You mean when you did that illegal U-turn and I pulled you over. Said I'd tear up the ticket if you stripped for me, and I creamed my pants just looking at you. Hell, I'd do the same thing today. You're a hell of a stud, man."

"No need to tell you that the feeling's mutual." There was another long pause.

"I love him, you know," Bob said. "Right or wrong, whatever he does, he's my life."

"I respect you for that, Bob. Hell, I know you two are joined at the hip."

"Much more than the hip," Bob laughed.

Another pause as they came down to earth and reality crashed in.

"Well," Mark said. "Gotta get going."

"I suppose there's no chance..."

"Not a chance," Mark said. "The wound's too deep."

"Yeah right."

And Bob watched the magnificent cop stride away from him.

And so a few more weeks went by and the guys went about their daily routines. Mark and Jamie set up their apartment together, Randy and Bob were closer than ever, and Darius and Pablo chattered aimlessly about the small events of their day. But for all the guys it was the same ... there was no real energy, no joy in anything they did.

Then suddenly, as so often happens, events beyond their control intervened. Pablo had the day off work and was in Hollywood doing some shopping. The boulevard was busy and he was in a hurry. At the crosswalk the light turned red but Pablo ignored it. He had learned this from Randy, who usually said `fuck the light' and strode across the street. Nobody ever stopped Randy, didn't dare, but Pablo was not so lucky.

No sooner had he crossed against the light than a cop car swept up beside him. A burly cop with a moustache and a beer belly climbed out of the car.

"OK, asshole, put your hands on the car and spread your legs."

"What did I do?"

"Jay walking," the cop barked.

Pablo's familiar anger boiled over. He wasn't Randy's son for nothing. "Shit, man, you're not serious! Cops don't give tickets for jay walking."

"This one does."

"Not to me, you don't. I work at the Police Motor Pool."

"Sure you do... and I'm Henry the Eighth. I said spread that sweet ass of yours."

"Fuck you, man. Take your fucking hands off me."

"OK, that's it, faggot. Resisting arrest." The cop quickly cuffed Pablo's wrists, grabbed his head and forced him into the back of the cruiser.

At the end of his shift Mark had just pulled into the police station parking lot along with other officers ending their day. He noticed across the lot a big cop pulling a young guy out of his car. It was Harrison, a cop he heartily disliked, known for his rough treatment of guys he arrested. There were vague stories of police brutality. Mark watched as he half dragged the young guy into the building.

"Jesus Christ!" At the last minute Mark had recognized the prisoner. Pablo. He walked quickly toward the building and thought fast. He had to tread carefully here. Cops usually back each other up, certainly don't lodge complaints, so he had to use caution. A rash move could make things worse for Pablo.

He said to the desk sergeant, "Harrison just bring a young guy in here?"

"Yeah. Took him down to the cells ... lower level. You know what that means."

"Thanks man."

Pablo was terrified. He was cornered in a remote cell far from anyone else. The fat, ugly cop stood over him grinning, spit drooling through his moustache.

"Well look at you. Guess you think you're real pretty, don't you son?"

"I'm not your son."

Harrison hit him across the face.

"Get this clear, faggot. You're whatever I say you are." The cop spun Pablo around and with one jerk pulled down his pants.

"Shit, will you get a look at that sweet ass. Lot a guys would love to loosen that up, and guess what. I'm the lucky son-of-a-bitch that gets to do the honors. See this night stick, faggot? I think we'll start with this."

Pablo held his breath and flinched as he felt the cold, hard rod press against his ass. He was determined that he wouldn't scream.

"Hey, Harrison! Save a piece of the action for me."

The cop whirled. "What you doing here, Matsen?"

"Don't need to ask what you're doing," Mark said. "I envy you. This one's prime meat. Long time since I worked on an ass that fine."

"Yeah, well he's mine. Stand back and listen to the little pig squeal."

"How much is he worth to you?"

"Whadya mean?"

"I need some action, man. I'd pay good money for a piece of ass like that."

"How much? He's worth three hundred at least."

"Two hundred ... it's all I have on me."

Pablo felt faint as he heard the cops bargaining over who was going to fuck his ass. But he picked up on a quick glance from Mark signaling that he should keep his mouth shut.

The fat cop hesitated. "OK. Two hundred. The faggot's too scrawny for my taste anyway."

Mark took out his wallet, peeled off some bills and handed them to the cop, who sneered at him.

"He's all yours then, Matsen. Don't do anything to him I wouldn't do." He laughed. "Which means you can pretty much do whatever the fuck you want. Just try to keep the bruises down. It don't look good." And with another sneering laugh he walked out of the cell.

While he was still in earshot Mark said loudly, "OK, you little fucker. You're dealing with me now. And it ain't gonna be pretty." They heard the footsteps disappearing down the hall and they were alone.

Pablo was still terrified, but he drew himself up tall and looked defiant. "So, I guess you're gonna take revenge. You're gonna do to me what Randy did to Jamie."

Mark narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. "Pablo, that remark was an insult to me and not worthy of you."

Pablo's poise crumbled. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm real glad you're here. I don't know why I said that."

"You said it because you're shit scared, kid, that's why. So we'll forget about it. Now I've gotta get you out of here fast."

He took out his cell phone and was relieved to see that it had a signal this far underground. He had Bob's office number on his speed dial ... and he sure as hell was not going to speak to that shithead Randy. Bob's secretary put him straight through and Mark briefly explained what was happening.

"The guy's a sadistic bastard and I'm not sure how long I've got. So get your ass down here fast. And bring one of the guys from your legal department. Could speed things up. I'll stay with the kid until you get here."

Mark snapped the phone shut ... and there was silence. Pablo looked at the beautiful uniformed cop and couldn't stop himself from falling in his arms. Mark held him tight until he regained his composure. Finally Pablo pulled away.

"Thank you for rescuing me, sir. I don't know what would have happened to me if you hadn't come in and ... "

"I have a fair idea, kid. The cop's a sadist ... he won't last in the department much longer."

There was another silence. Then Pablo spoke softly.

"I've missed you, sir. A lot. Darius and me, we miss you both. Course, I see Jamie cause we're working together."

"Yeah, thanks for that, kid. He says you're a good teacher. He really likes working with you."

"We're friends, sir. Still are, no matter what happened."

"Yeah ... maybe we grownups could learn a thing or two from you kids."

Pablo hesitated and then plucked up courage. "Sir, I know it's not my place to say this, but couldn't you see your way to coming back to the house and bring Jamie with you?"

"You're right, Pablo, it's not your place to say that. But since you ask, no there is no possibility of that. So let's drop the subject. Bob will be here soon."

When Bob arrived things moved fast. His colleague from legal knew his way around the Hollywood police station and all charges were quickly dropped. While he dealt with the paperwork Bob took Mark aside.

"I don't know how we can ever thank you for this, Mark."

"Stroke of luck that I was here. I did it for Pablo ... and for you, man."

"I'm glad you called me and not Randy."

"Yeah, yeah. If I'd called him he'd have come here, busted up the place and broken the cop's jaw."

Bob laughed. "You're right about that. The kid means everything to him. He's his boy. He'd kill anyone who hurt him."

Bob gave him a penetrating look. "Yeah, I know the feeling, man. I know it well."

"Jeez, I walked right into that one didn't I?"

"Look," Mark said. "I better get out of here. Take care of Pablo. That's one gutsy young man. He's a great kid."

Bob drove Pablo home and they waited for Randy.

The big construction worker went through a series of conflicting emotions. First, of course, was anger. He clenched his fists and wanted to go right out, find the cop and beat the crap out of him. When Bob explained how much they owed Mark Randy was more restrained. Of course he appreciated that Mark had saved Pablo from a terrible ordeal. But he was still his rival, the man who had thrashed him, broken and humiliated him.

Then Pablo screwed up his courage and stood up. He spoke firmly and decisively.

"Sir. I want to say something. Mark rescued me. He saved me from being raped." He cleared his throat. "Sir, I want him and Jamie to come back and live with us again."

Randy stood up. "You what?! Now listen here, punk ..." but Bob put a restraining hand on his arm. He looked at Pablo.

"Pablo, could you leave us alone now?"

"Of course. Sorry I spoke, sir. And thanks for everything, sir." He ran out of the room and went to share his story with Darius. Darius of course was wide-eyed and his fantasy meter went into overdrive.

Randy sat down and shook his head. With a mix of anger and admiration he said, "That little fucker. He's got pluck though. Shit, he'll be running the house before you know it."

"He's dead right, though," Bob said and looked hard at Randy. "Buddy, this has to stop."

Randy shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"That's bullshit," Bob shouted, then paused and toned it down. "Look, you'll probably beat me up for saying this, but you've been a total asshole about this whole affair. You thrashed and raped Mark's kid and he took revenge. Now Mark has saved your kid from a brutal rape. You two guys have got to settle this once and for all. You can't but heads for the rest of your lives."

Randy scowled at Bob, who took one last chance ... "Or maybe you're scared to tangle with Mark again."

"Fuck you, man. You know me better than that."

"I thought I did," Bob said softly. He knew he was now touching the last raw nerve. Randy looked at him with a rueful smile.

"Shit, man you always know how to get to me ... know what buttons to press." But he knew Bob was making sense. And it was true ... Mark had rescued his boy. He gave in. "OK, what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to allow me to go see Mark, apologize on your behalf and see what will induce him to come back here with Jamie."

Randy sighed deeply. "OK. Do what you have to. But there's one thing."

"What?"

"You were right about the beating thing. You're gonna pay for mouthing off ... and then you're gonna get your ass fucked."

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

Bob arranged to meet Mark over a drink at a bar. The cop was resistant from the outset.

"Look, man. He raped my boy. He beat Jamie's ass and then raped it. Then he seduced him and made him cum."

"Ah," Bob's eyes gleamed. "That's the bit that really gets to you, doesn't it? Randy is so fucking gorgeous, such a stud, so overpowering sexually that everyone submits to him. They give their ass to him just like Jamie did. Hell, you even got you turned on while you were thrashing him. Randy can make anyone shoot their load without touching themselves, and that's the real challenge, isn't it, Mark. It's not a trial of strength any more, it's a sexual contest."

Mark couldn't help smiling. "What always makes you so right, asshole? You're so fucking smart. You should have been a diplomat ... You're one hell of a guy, you know? "

"This is not about me, dickhead. It's about you and Randy. What do you say? What price does he have to pay for you to come back?"

"OK, so you're right, it's about sex. Well that's my price. He thinks he's such a macho fucking sex god, everyone submits ... cums when he orders them" He jumped up from his barstool and looked into the mirror behind the bar. "Well look at me, man. Don't you think I can do that too?"

"Mark, you're one of the most beautiful men on the planet. You know you can make me cum just looking at you. You already did that once, remember. Hell, I've got a hard-on now just talking to you."

"Well maybe the great and glorious Randy needs a taste of that," Mark said. "OK, another thrashing's no good `cause we know he can take a beating ... but let's see if he can resist that," and he pointed to his own stunning reflection in the mirror.

He sat down and looked at Bob. "OK, man. I'll do it for you. But here's what I want. And I'll take nothing less."

As Mark laid down his conditions Bob's eyes opened wide. He couldn't believe Randy would go for it. But he had to. And Bob would be forced to watch. As he thought about it he felt his cock getting hard.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength -- Part 46"