A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 57 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER Having brutally punished Randy physically, the cop Mark now tortures him mentally by making love to Bob. "NO!" Randy screams helplessly. "Stop. I'll do anything, man. Whip me again. Thrash me. Just don't take his ass. Don't make me watch that." Next Mark savagely punishes Lloyd. Realizing he is a sex-addict Mark takes Lloyd to a place where he will overdose on the testosterone of rugged police jocks.

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A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - Part 57

Bob walked onto the construction site and stopped in his tracks, gazing in horror. The sight was awesome. The magnificent muscle god, his master, hung naked, spread-eagled in a door frame. His rugged physique was ravaged with welts and bruises, his body streamed with sweat and heaved with pain and exhaustion. The handsome, square-jawed face hung down, the tousled black hair matted to his forehead. He was a broken giant.

Standing before him, stripped to the waist, was the beautiful cop Mark who had inflicted the punishment. Randy had previously spent a week with the architect Lloyd in an oblivion of mutual lust. His obsession was so intense that he had forgotten about his lover Bob. Mark watched his friend suffer and, driven by fury at Randy and affection for Bob, the cop had vowed to punish the construction worker. First he had tied him up and whipped him. Now worse was to come.

Mark growled, "Now, asshole, you're gonna feel the other kind of pain ... the kind that's worse ... far worse. It's the pain of loss. Now you'll know how it feels to be abandoned by someone you once loved."

Mark had called Bob to come to the construction site and now they both stood shirtless in front of the bound man. Mark took Bob's face in his hands, and pressed his lips to his mouth. Resistant at first, Bob felt the warmth of the lips, felt the force of the naked chest pressing against his, saw the look in the beautiful blue eyes. And he let himself be folded in the powerful arms.

Randy looked at them in horror as he realized what was happening. Worse, he saw Mark's hands slide down over Bob's naked back, over his waist, and cup the globes of Bob's perfect ass through his jeans. The cop was kissing the handsome face hungrily, rubbing their glorious bodies together ... and caressing the ass.

"No!" Randy yelled. "Not that. His ass is mine. It belongs to me. I own it."

Mark looked at him and smiled. "Not any more, man. You deserted him. With what you've done you renounced all rights of ownership. I'm taking over now. You made your choice ... Lloyd ...now I'm making mine. And this time, it's you who'll know what it feels like to lose the man you love. I'm the master now. He's mine, Randy. Bob's mine."

"NO!" Randy screamed again. His naked body thrashed and strained helplessly in his bondage, desperate to prevent what he knew would happen next.

While waiting for Bob Mark had pulled two blankets out of the trailer and spread one at Randy's feet. Mark and Bob stood facing each other and locked eyes as Mark reached forward, unbuttoned Bob's pants and let them drop. Bob kicked off his boots and stepped out of his pants. He was naked.

"God, you're gorgeous," Mark breathed as he took off his own boots and pants. They came together in a passionate, naked embrace, then Mark pulled Bob down onto the blanket, their mouths and bodies still pressed together. Soon the cop pushed Bob onto his back and lowered himself onto him. Their bodies were entwined as they rolled on the blanket, glorying in the feel of each other's rippling muscles.

Randy's body thrashed in a frenzy of anger and frustration. "Fuck you, man," he screamed at Mark. "Don't do this. Leave him alone. I'll kill you for this." He pulled frantically at his bound wrists in a desperate struggle to get free. His body arched and strained, his flexing muscles, streaming with sweat, gleamed in the rays of the setting sun.

But Bob and Mark were by now oblivious of the bound giant howling above them. What had started as an act of retribution against Randy had quickly developed into a lustful coupling of two magnificent bodies as their passion built. There had always been an intensity of feeling between the two men but they had kept it in check. Bob's ass, in particular, had been strictly off limits, the sole property of his master Randy.

Not anymore. As Mark had said, Randy had forfeited all rights of ownership though his betrayal, and now Mark and Bob were building to the inevitable climax that was agony for Randy to watch. All three men knew with certainty what came next. Bob was on his back gazing up at the extraordinary sight of the naked cop's beautiful blond face smiling down at him.

"You know what I'm gonna do, don't you, buddy? You want it?"

"Oh yes, sir. Please fuck me. My ass is yours sir. Please push your cock inside me."

"NO!" Randy screamed helplessly again. "Stop. I'll do anything, man. I know I deserve to be punished. Whip me again. Thrash me. Fuck me. Just don't take his ass, man. Don't make me watch that."

But he had to. The door frame groaned and shook as the powerful man thrashed and strained against the ropes, veins standing out in his sinewy muscles, his black hair hanging over his rugged, sweat stained face. He watched in horror as Mark gripped Bob's ankles and pushed his legs up, as he came up close, the head of his rigid cock pressing against the warm entrance to his ass.

"Tell me again, buddy."

"Please, Mark. Please put your cock in me. I want to feel you inside me. I want you to fuck my ass, sir."

So Mark did. The naked cop pushed forward and took pleasure in Bob's deep, ecstatic sigh as he felt the rod ease slowly inside him, sliding against the soft, moist membrane of his warm ass. Bob could not believe the sensation that shot through his entire body. Both men had wanted this for a long time and now they looked into each other's eyes and smiled, breathing heavily, as each felt the joy of finally coming together in a powerful expression of love.

"God, that feels awesome," Mark breathed. You're a fucking amazing man. I love this."

"I love you, Mark," Bob breathed, as he felt the cop's shaft massage the inside of his body, pushing deeper with each stroke. When the head of the cock finally passed over the inner sphincter it sent jolts of electricity through Bob's whole body and made him scream.

Randy was in a delirium of despair. He had stopped struggling and his huge body hung from its bonds, the muscles in his arms and shoulders bulging as they were stretched to their limit. His face was a mask of abject misery, tears flowing down his cheeks as he pleaded.

"Please man, I'm begging you. Please pull out of his ass. You've won, sir. I submit to you. You're my master. I'll do anything for you. Just please leave him alone. I beg you, sir."

But Mark was beyond hearing. His body was on fire as the sweet sensation raced from his cock throughout his body. He was fucking this glorious man, making love to him, taking possession of him. He increased the rhythm as his body rose and fell on the moaning man beneath him. He had never believed it could be this good. It went on and on until he knew that he and Bob were close to their climax. He gazed into Bob's soft brown eyes.

"You want to feel me pour my cum inside you?"

"Yes, sir. May I cum too?"

"We'll do it together. You ready?"

"Whenever you say, sir."

"OK, man. Here it comes." Mark's cocked pulsed, he pulled back, then plunged it back in, all the way to back of Bob's gut, in the final penetration. Bob felt the cock erupt, felt the hot juice flooding into the depth of his ass. He didn't need to touch his own cock. His hot semen exploded over his naked chest, up to his face, into his hair. Stream after stream shot from his cock as he heard the screams of two men, his own and Mark's.

Randy pulled frantically at his restraints in a frenzied mix of emotions ....... anger, despair, but also lust and desire. As he watched the shuddering climax of the two men he wanted desperately to touch them, to be with them. And there was only one way. As a master he had often made men shoot their load when he subjected them to physical pain. But he had never heard of mental pain causing an orgasm. That was about to change.

He was aware that his own cock was rock hard at the sight of his lover's ass getting fucked by the glorious cop. His body was rigid in his restraints but he felt no physical pain. His mental anguish overwhelmed him, consumed him. He screamed and felt his cock throb. He felt a heat rising from his balls and erupt from his cock in a burst of cum that arched upward, then splashed down onto Mark's back and into Bob's upturned face. The anguish he felt had combined with his lust to force his helpless orgasm. In tight bondage he couldn't touch the men, but his semen could. He had joined with them in their climax.

He gazed down in mesmerized silence as the two men held each other, their bodies heaving against each other. Randy was beyond word, thought or action. He was crushed, totally beaten. His lover, the man he had owned, had made passionate love to his best friend; his ass had been fucked and they had both screamed in ecstasy. Randy felt abandoned, lost. In his misery he suddenly knew now the agony Bob had gone through, thinking he had lost Randy to Lloyd.

Randy now knew the magnitude of his betrayal, and he sobbed with regret. This man was everything to him, and he had lost him. The construction worker had been brutally punished by Mark, but he would have endured any physical pain, any torture, to have Bob back with him. As his naked, bruised body hung limply in bondage, his punishment was now complete. He was a broken man.

Randy watched, hollow-eyed, as if in a trance. Mark and Bob were still clinging together, their bodies joined with thick layers of white cream. Mark raised his face, then lowered it onto Bob's in one final, ardent embrace. Suddenly he jumped up and reached down to Bob. Their hands joined and Mark pulled Bob to his feet. He put his hands on his shoulders, gazed into his eyes and spoke solemnly.

"Thank you, man. You were sensational. But now you have to make a choice, Bob. It's entirely up to you. Both Randy and I have owned your ass. We have both loved you, made love to you. Now you have to choose between us. Who's it to be?"

There was a heavy silence. Bob turned to look at Randy, hanging helplessly, hopelessly in his restraints. Then he faced Mark, smiled at him and kissed his lips hard. "Thank you, Mark. That was an incredible experience. I love you." He paused. "But you always knew, didn't you? You knew who I would choose ... didn't you?"

Mark grinned. "Of course I did, asshole. Why do you think I went through all this? Sure I knew ... all along. You two guys have something going that's unique. Neither of you could live without the other, and you both know it. For God's sake go to him. Forgive him, mend him, love him. And don't ever leave him." He laughed. "Don't make me got through all this again. ... I may have to whip you both next time."

"I love you, Mark," Bob said. Then he broke away and walked toward Randy. He threw his hands round his neck and kissed his mouth hungrily. Tears were streaming down both their faces as they moaned in the passionate expression of their wounded love.

Randy was dimly aware of his ankles being untied from behind by Mark, then his wrists. Free at last, his body crumpled against Bob's and they fell to their knees on the blanket, then lay down in each other's arms. Their mouths were still locked together. They were one entity, as if their bodies would never separate again.

They were unaware of Mark who gazed down at them, smiling. He picked up the second blanket he had brought out and threw it gently over their locked bodies. They were warm, now. They were together again. Still smiling Mark strode off the lot, jumped into his truck and drove away.

The next morning Mark was having breakfast with the three boys, Darius, Pablo and Jamie. When he heard the truck pull up he went outside to meet Randy and Bob, who had spent the night at the construction site.

Randy whispered in Bob's ear. "Go jump in the shower. I'll join you in a minute." Then he strode forward to confront Mark. Two pairs of steel blue eyes met and there was a tense silence. Then Randy stretched out his hand. Mark grasped it hard, Randy pulled him toward him and they fell into a tight bearhug.

Randy said quietly, "You know, man, you're the only guy in the world who could do what you did, put me through that torture, and have me thank you for it."

Mark pulled back and smiled. "You're my best buddy, man. I love both of you. Something drastic had to be done. I couldn't lose you both."

Randy shook his head. "I've been such a damn fool. The man is everything to me and I put him through hell. I needed to be punished, brought to my senses, and you did it. You're the only guy who could do it. God I love you, man." And they embraced again.

"So what happens now?" Mark asked.

"I'm taking Bob up to the lake for a couple of days. I'll try to make it up to him, get everything back to where it was. Think you can handle things around here while we're gone?"

"No problem," Mark smiled.

"Oh, by the way, Lloyd may call on the house phone while I'm gone. Can you explain that I ..."

Mark cut him off. "No sweat, buddy. Leave him to me. I'll take care of Lloyd."

As it turned out, a day and a half went by with no word from the architect. Then, just as Mark got home at the end of his shift, the house phone rang. He hesitated, then picked up. He didn't say anything before he heard Lloyd's breathless voice.

"Hey, Randy, where've you been? I've missed the hell out of you. I'm waiting for you, sir. Come to me. Door's unlocked, come right through to the bedroom. I promise, you'll like what you find."

"Be right there," said Mark softly in a neutral voice, and hung up the phone. He didn't even wait to change out of his police uniform. His jaw and his fists clenched as he strode out to his truck.

He was tense as he drove over the hill to West Hollywood, thinking back over the last few weeks. He remembered how Darius had been ignored when Lloyd and Randy were together. Darius had felt neglected, resentful of Lloyd. He had taken off and got into a whole mess of trouble that could have been dangerous had he not been rescued by Randy and Pablo.

Then Mark recalled the look of desolation in Bob's eyes when he felt that Randy had abandoned him for Lloyd, had spent a whole week with him with barely a phone call to Bob. The only way was to punish Randy big time and then briefly, dramatically, to possess his lover Bob. And all this pain and suffering because of Lloyd! His voice still rang in Mark's ears: "I promise you'll like what you find."

"Asshole!" Mark murmured to himself. "Fuck him. Fuck him to hell. Everything was fine before he came. He nearly ruined everything. Selfish bastard sex-maniac. Fuck him!" He was still fuming when he drove up to the West Hollywood house.

"Come through to the bedroom," the voice called out as the front door opened. "I'm ready for you."

Mark walked into the bedroom and stopped dead. Lloyd was lying on the bed, naked, his eyes closed.

"Mmm, you even smell good, man. My ass is waiting for you, stud."

"It'll be a long wait, asshole."

Hearing Mark's growl Lloyd's eyes shot open. "You!" he gasped. "Where's Randy?"

"Taken Bob away to try and heal the wounds you helped to open."

"What d'ya mean, wounds ...? Ah, never mind. You'll do fine. Man, you are such a stud." He gazed up at the stunning, tall uniformed cop, finely sculpted Nordic features, shock of blond hair falling over his brow, perfectly sculpted physique bulging under the uniform.

"Yeah, you'll do just fine. Come and fuck my ass, officer. It's all greased up."

Mark's eyes blazed. "You fucking slut. You a damned sex addict or what? Have you any idea the havoc you've caused? Darius nearly got himself killed, Randy and Bob almost broke up, and all since you arrived."

"Ooh. Sounds like I've been real bad. You gonna punish me, officer?"

Mark moved forward and knelt on the bed over the hungry architect.

"You gonna fuck me, officer?"

"I wouldn't fucking soil my cock putting it inside your sorry ass, shithead. But you got one thing right. I am gonna punish you. You all greased up, you say?"

"Sure am," Lloyd grinned.

"Right!" Mark reached down to his side and unhooked from his belt the black truncheon that's a standard part of a cop's equipment. "See this asshole. Ever heard of police brutality? Allow me to give you a demonstration."

Without hesitation he pressed the tip of the nightstick against Lloyd's ass and pushed. Slowly the long, black rod slid into the greasy hole, making the architect gasp and moan as pain shot through his ass.

Mark waited for the scream ... but there was no scream. Instead, the look of pain on Lloyd's face slowly morphed into a euphoric smile. Lloyd reached upward and ripped Mark's shirt open, running his hands over the T-shirt, digging his fingers into the hard slabs of the cop's chest.

"Oh yeah. Punish that ass, officer. God, you're beautiful. Let me see you push that rod in my ass. Deeper, man. Take your shirt off, man. Let me see that gorgeous body."

Surprised by this reaction Mark paused, and then knew exactly what to do. He pushed the nightstick all the way into Lloyd's ass, then smiled down at him. He unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and pulled it off slowly, flexing his biceps as he did so.

Lloyd looked stunned as he gazed up at the magnificent cop, his white T-shirt a perfect triangle, tapering down from his broad shoulders to the narrow waist at his belt. "Oh, God," Lloyd moaned. "You are unbelievable, man. Like a fucking god."

"You want more?"

"Yes, sir. Let me see your chest."

Mark reached behind his neck and slowly pulled at his T-shirt. It slid out of his pants, then rose over his hard eight-pack abs, revealing his perfect chest, his lats, and finally his shoulders as the shirt came free. Again Lloyd reached up and ran his trembling hands over the hard, square pecs as Mark flexed his muscles.

"Oh, man. That is fucking sensational. Why don't you strip, officer, and fuck my ass? I always wanted to get plowed by a cop."

Mark looked into his face and the smile in the cop's blue eyes slowly changed to a look of steel, piercing Lloyd with a look first of anger, then of total disgust. He grabbed Lloyd's wrists, forced them high over his head and pressed them hard onto the bed.

"Do you really think I would do you're the honor of fucking your lousy ass, you prick? Do you think for one minute I would give you that pleasure? You're delusional, Lloyd. You're a sicko. No, man. I know I turn you on like crazy, and that's just fine ... part of the plan."

In one swift movement Mark unclipped his handcuffs from his belt, looped them round the rail of the headboard and snapped them onto Lloyd's wrists. The architect's arms were stretched tight above his head and he pulled at his restraints.

"Bondage! Man, I love that. Come on, officer. Do your worst."

"I intend to," Mark growled. And here it is." He stood up, flexed his magnificent torso for the last time, then quickly pulled on his shirt, leaving it open to reveal his sculpted chest."

Lloyd frowned in frustration. "What are you doing, man? I said take your clothes off. I wanna see you naked."

"In your dreams, fucker," Mark sneered. "Just one last thing." And he reached down and gave the truncheon a huge shove, penetrating deep into Lloyd's gut."

This time he screamed. "No! That's too much. It hurts too much. Please, man. Take it out. I can't take it that deep."

"Fuck you, Lloyd. But you know what's worse? I'm gonna leave. I'm gonna abandon you the way Darius walked out of his home, and the way Randy abandoned Bob. You can kiss Randy and me goodbye, you son-of-a bitch. But I'm gonna do you a favor. I'm gonna cure you of your sexual compulsion. And I know just the way. So long, asshole."

Mark picked up his T-shirt, flung it over his shoulder and turned toward the door.

Lloyd struggled in desperate frustration. "No, man. Don't leave! I want you, sir. At least let me touch my cock. You can do anything to me ... just don't leave."

But Mark was already through the front door, the helpless man's frantic pleas growing fainter in his ears.

It took Mark twenty minutes to drive from West Hollywood to the Police Academy in Elysian Park. He pulled up at the office of the Facility Manager.

"Hey there, Manuel, how's it going?" he said breezily.

"Hi, Mark. You're a sight for sore eyes. You come to work out in the gym?"

"Not this time, buddy."

"Hey, don't tell me you got another bad boy for me?"

"Not exactly. A bad man would be more like it. Can you use an extra pair of hands?"

"Shit, man, I've got two men off sick. Nobody to cover the locker room. Think I can have him for a week?"

Manuel was used to Mark's unorthodox method of meeting out unofficial punishment for young miscreants who just needed straightening out. Reluctant to put them through the criminal justice system he would sometimes turn them over to Manuel who put them to work in the sprawling sports facility. Most of the cops used the gym, sports fields, swimming pool, or boxing ring at the academy to train or just unwind when they got off duty.

"I'll put him in the gym locker room, if that's OK. Work's pretty tough and dirty, as you know, and the guys can be rough. Might be good for him."

Mark smiled. "The locker room is perfect, Manuel. Tough and dirty is just what this one needs. Just don't do him any favors. Don't pull any punches, OK?"

"You know me better than that, stud," Manuel grinned. "Bring him by as soon as you can."

"Thanks, pal." As Mark was leaving he shouted back over his shoulder. "By the way, the name's Lloyd."

Mark had been home less than half an hour when he heard Randy's truck pull up. He looked up as Randy and Bob walked in. There was a definite glow about them.

"Shit," Mark smiled. "No need to ask if you guys had a good time at the lake. Looks like you're walking on air."

Randy threw his arm round Bob's shoulder and grinned. "That obvious, uh? Yeah, great time. And we have a lot to thank you for, buddy."

"More than you know, big guy. Lloyd called and I went to see him."

"Oh yeah?" Randy said apprehensively. "What did you ...? "

Mark interrupted him. "Look, guys, pull up a beer and sit down. We gotta talk."

As the three men nursed their beers Mark described his visit to Lloyd. Then he got down to business. "Now listen. The guy is seriously sexually compulsive. His dick is permanently hard whenever one of us is around. That's what's caused all the trouble in this house. I know you value him as a good architect but he can only work for us if he gets over the sex thing."

"How the hell you gonna make that happen?" asked Bob.

"I have a plan. You know the theory that the way to cure a chocoholic is to put them to work in a chocolate factory. They eat as much as they like for the first few hours, then they're sick of it and never want to see another chocolate. Well, what Lloyd needs is total testosterone overload. Needs to be saturated in sex, hit in the face by it."

"What do you have in mind?" Randy asked.

Mark grinned. "The Police Academy. I swung by and spoke to the facility manager ... he's a pal of mine. He's shorthanded right now and would put Lloyd to work there for a week, as a janitor in the gym. There'll be cops coming and going all the time, stripping off their uniforms ready for a workout, boxers, swimmers, the lot. And, believe me, when the football team comes in and strips off their gear down to their jock-straps the air is thick and heavy with testosterone. They're a raunchy, macho crowd."

"Hey," Bob grinned, "maybe you could get me a job there."

"Not on your life, asshole," Randy growled. "Seriously, Mark, it might work. Go for it, buddy. And thanks again."

"Oh, by the way," Mark said. "You should probably go over to his house and set him free. He's spent several hours handcuffed to the bed with a huge plug up his ass. Explain that we'll only keep him on if he does the locker room thing. Don't think he'll need much persuading. Here. You'll need this." And he tossed him the key to the handcuffs.

As Randy went out the door Mark called after him. "Oh, and bring my nightstick back to me. Just wash it off first."

It was the next morning when Mark drove Lloyd to the Police Academy ... in silence. Mark spoke to him only when they arrived at the office. "You report to Manuel. Just one thing. The guys will pretty much ignore you. They always ignore the janitor. And this is important ... don't tell any of the cops you know me. They'll go easy on you if you do, and we don't want that do we?"

"No, sir," Lloyd said meekly. And Mark drove off.

Manuel gave Lloyd his uniform, white pants and dark blue T-shirt and explained his duties. They were simple: keep the locker room scrubbed clean and tidy up after the jocks. "They're a messy, rowdy bunch of guys. Hope you're not offended by foul language," Manuel said with a grin.

It was early in the morning so the gym was fairly quiet. In fact Lloyd was alone for a few minutes, and then the first cop came in from the night shift. He nodded briefly to Lloyd, then forgot about him and got ready for the gym. Dark-haired with handsome features and a muscular physique, the cop stretched his limbs, then quickly began to strip off his uniform. Soon he was naked and pulled on a jockstrap. Just then two of his buddies came in from their shift.

"Hey, Jenkins, you cut out early, you shithole. Can't let you get away with that." The two cops pulled out their towels and began to snap them on his naked body. Still in just his jockstrap the cop tried to protect his body, ducking and weaving around the locker room, cursing at his buddies. From a distance Lloyd watched the scene and his dick instantly became rigid. Fortunately his pants were loose so his erection didn't show too much. He desperately wanted to pull out his cock and stroke it as he watched the horseplay of the macho cops.

Then the night shift started pouring into the locker room and began to get ready for their workout. Lloyd couldn't believe his eyes. Dozens of cops were now crowded into the large room, stripping off their uniforms. Some were stripped to the waist, others were naked, some in jockstraps, others in shorts and tank tops. There was more horseplay in the showers, which were in an open area visible from the locker room.

Lloyd couldn't take any more. No one was aware of him so he crept into one of the toilet stalls and locked the door. Through the crack of the door he could see all of the raucous activity taking place as the big jocks let off steam after work. He pulled out his rigid dick and stroked it. He watched the naked cops in the shower, then focused on the new arrivals stripping off their uniforms. The air was heavy with crude jokes and obscenities.

Then Lloyd turned his attention to the three cops who had come in first. They were all stripped down to jock straps now and the two were still attacking Jenkins in raunchy horseplay. The naked bodies ground together, pushing for advantage, until the two held Jenkins's arms firmly from behind.

"Hey guys," one of them shouted. "Jenkins cut out from his shift early. You gonna let him get away with that? Someone come and hold the mother-fucker so we can teach him a lesson."

Quickly they were relieved by two other cops, both stripped to the waist, one holding an arm each. The two in jockstraps came round the front and began to punch Jenkins lightly on the chest and stomach. He grimaced and strained, his flexing muscles now gleaming with sweat.

"You fucking bastards," he yelled. "Let me go. I'll fucking kill the both of you. I'll kick your balls so hard you'll sing soprano. Fuck you, assholes."

Behind the restroom door Lloyd was beside himself. His gaze was riveted on the muscular cop in the jockstrap getting punished. He saw the fists bounce off his chest and abs, watched him strain and flex, trying to get free. As the handsome face grimaced his curses became howls of pain.

It was too much for Lloyd. He had never seen anything like this ... and it was all real. Fortunately the howls and cheers in the locker room were so loud they drowned out Lloyd's own shout as his cock erupted and shot long streams of cum over the stall door. His breath heaving, he stood and watched until the horseplay ended and the cops left good naturedly for the gym. He saw in horror the creamy liquid running down the door. He pulled the cloth from his back pocket and frantically wiped it clean.

After that things calmed down as the cops all drifted off to the gym. For a few minutes Lloyd was alone and then he heard voices. Two guys came in, fresh from the pool, wearing Speedos and toweling their hair. Both had beautiful, lean swimmers' bodies, streaming with water. From their broad shoulders their V-shaped lats tapered down to slim waists at their tight Speedos that hugged the round globes of their ass.

They didn't notice Lloyd who was on his knees cleaning the floor behind a storage box. He watched in awe as the two tall guys hit the showers, peeling off their swimsuits. They lathered up and spread soap slowly over their gleaming bodies. Then each in turn soaped the other's back, running his hands over the broad lats and down to the bulge of his ass.

Lloyd held his breath as he watched spellbound. Without thinking he pulled out his cock and in a few quick strokes he shot his load all over the floor. Gasping, he put his cock away, stood up and frantically mopped his own cum from the locker room floor.

After the swimmers left he worked hard all morning at the demeaning work of scrubbing floors and walls, and picking up after the messy jocks. In the early afternoon he was looking out the window and saw the police football team on the field. They were evidently at the end of their practice and, as the final whistle blew, they headed toward the locker room. Lloyd ducked down to his job of scrubbing the floor.

The door crashed open and with loud raucous laughter and cursing the crowd of muscular football jocks jostled each other into the locker room and immediately started to strip off their gear. Lloyd shot quick glances around him to see the shirts come off, the gloves, the padding until many of the huge bodies were stripped to the waist. Their faces were muddy, their sinewy muscles stinking of sweat.

On his knees Lloyd had an eye-level view as the pants came down and his face was close to the jockstraps with bulging protective cups. He was mesmerized by the sight and smell of the jockstraps, stained with sweat and piss, moving only inches from his eyes. The guys roared with laughter and crude taunts as they challenged each other in macho horseplay in front of the kneeling janitor.

Suffocating with lust Lloyd crept unseen to the toilet stall, looked through the crack and groaned in ecstasy as once again he jacked off all over the door.

It was near the end of the day and Lloyd, intoxicated with the sounds and rancid smells of macho testosterone, had already shot his load three or four more times. Now he was alone in the room when one of the cops came in from the boxing ring. He was soaked with sweat, his tank top and shorts clinging to his body.

From a distance Lloyd watched the handsome, swarthy Hispanic strip naked. The jock's breath still heaved from the exertion in the ring and his body gleamed as he unwound his hand straps. Finally he took off his jockstrap and Lloyd gasped as the biggest piece of horsemeat he had ever seen flopped out of it. The guy was evidently in a hurry and Lloyd watched in awe as he showered quickly, dried off, pulled on his streets clothes, gathered up his shorts and shirt and left the gym.

Lloyd noticed something that made his cock rear up. The boxer had left his jockstrap on the bench. Lloyd picked it up and pressed it against his face. It was still soaked with sweat and smelled of piss stains. Lloyd could swear he also smelled dry cum. He was intoxicated. He imagined that monster cock coiled in the cup of the jockstrap. He put out his tongue and licked inside the pouch, tasting the raw, rancid essence of the boxer's juices.

It was again too much for him. Throwing caution to the winds, standing in the middle of the locker room he pressed the jockstrap hard against his face, muffling his scream as his cock exploded in a blast of cum. He spent the next half hour on his knees, scrubbing the floor clean of his juice.

The first few days of his work week were just like the first, with multiple surreptitious orgasms as he watched the rugged jocks strip after their police shifts, then again after their sweaty exertions in the gym and on the field. But as the week wore on his jacking-off diminished. He was not only exhausted, but he had become used to the sight of rugged, naked men. And by the end of the week he was immune to the presence of the cops, barely glancing at them, and concentrated instead on his tasks of scrubbing and cleaning.

As Mark had predicted, after a week's non-stop exposure to heavy, macho testosterone, Lloyd had finally overdosed on sex. He had shot his load countless times and now felt that his orgasms were unsatisfying, meaningless. He would be happy if he never shot his wad again.

On his last day Mark picked him up and drove him to West Hollywood. He immediately sensed the difference in the architect. He seemed drained, listless, not a trace of sexual energy in him. His libido had been shattered.

"Hell, man, those are some bags you got under your eyes. You been masturbating a lot?"

"Yes, sir," Lloyd said meekly.

"So, you had your fill of lusting after macho jocks?"

"Yes, sir."

"Think you can work alongside Randy without a hard-on?"

"Yes, sir."

"Just remember this Lloyd. If you relapse you'll answer to me."

"Yes, sir."

"Let me make this clear. The guys in the house are off limits to you." Then Mark grinned. "Unless of course we get horny and call you in to service us all. You never know ..."

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength -- Part 58"