Date: Wed, 9 Mar 2016 03:19:27 -0500
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 301  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 301
By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER: It's the turn of Bob, the handsome, muscular business
executive, to make the young gymnast Thomas submit to a master. "I'm gonna
show him that domination is not all about ripped T-shirts and getting
gang-fucked in the dirt. There are more subtle ways to make a boy crawl."
Soon the helpless jock is begging the shirtless businessman, "Do anything
to me, sir.  I'll take anything. Please, I need it so bad."


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


Chapter 301 – "THE JOCK & THE BUSINESSMAN"


Grady and Mario had had a major fight.  The move into the Grady House was a
major operation with more than its share of the usual frustrations and
glitches associated with any move-in.  Young Danny, the future
chef-housekeeper was in the thick of things, with Mario having to make most
of the decisions.

It all coincided with a couple of heavy weeks for Grady at the movie studio
with long hours and a lot of tension, as the Tarzan movie was starting to
run over budget and behind schedule – almost inevitable on a major
production like this.  Nerves were frayed on the set, tempers short and
Grady was in the middle of all the pressures, the natural target for much
venting of tension.

Danny was fearful that things would come to a head and inevitably they did.
As with all couples when problems arise at home or at work, each partner
was the closest target for the other's anger.  Common sense and affection
went out the window, replaced by irrational argument and recriminations.  A
major fight erupted, with ugly words exchanged that neither of them really
meant.  Mario stormed out and Grady more or less said `good riddance'.

A desperate Danny, still wearing his kitchen apron and chef's hat, rushed
to Bob and Randy for help.  While Bob, the diplomat, advised letting the
guys sort things out for themselves, Randy, the man of action, had other
ideas.  He locked Grady and Mario in the basement gym with the order,
"You're gonna cut the crap, make up, make love and fuck."  Fueled by the
boss's command, and their own passion for each other, that's exactly what
they did.

While they reconciled in the locked gym Randy returned to Bob and Danny in
the master suite and said matter-of-factly, "OK, that's settled.  Don't
worry, kiddo, everything's gonna be just fine, even better than before.
You're gonna have a whole bunch of fun at that house."  His swarthy face
broke into his dazzling smile and he snatched the chef's hat off Danny's
head.  "Now I'm fucking starved, so what d'ya say, chef?  Let's eat."

As Danny sat between the two men at the table eating breakfast he felt he
was floating on air, feeling safer than he had ever been in his life
before.  Impulsively he leaned over and kissed Randy on the cheek.  "Thank
you, sir.  You made things come right.  You're my hero."

"Oh yeah?  Well you're my hero too, kid.  What you did coming here –
good move.  Now you better start planning the big house-warming celebration
up there.  That'll be a ton of work.  You're gonna need help with that." He
grinned at Bob.  "And I suppose you have a plan."

"As a matter of fact I have been giving it some thought," Bob smiled.
Danny can't run that big place and the kitchen all by himself.  The other
boys can help part-time of course but we mustn't forget Nate, if Adam's OK
with that.  Actually I was talking to Adam and I think he might like to get
involved too.  And then there's our new boy Thomas.  I've been talking to
him too."

"Shit, you get around, don't you, big guy?"  They discussed the options
with Danny for some time and then Randy's cell phone rang.  Grady's voice
was a mix of contrition and jubilation.  "Hey, Randy.  We're ready
... we've done everything you said.  Could you have someone let us out
... please?"

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

Randy was enjoying himself a lot.  He may have lacked the finesse of Bob
but he knew bullshit when he saw it and had a knack of cutting right
through the crap and showing everyone who was boss.  He knew Bob and Danny
were both looking at him with awed respect and he loved that.  The man had
no vanity but he did like to have his ego stroked by his lover and a kid he
admired like Danny.

There was a knock on the door and Grady and Mario came in grinning
sheepishly, like schoolkids who had just been let out of detention.  "We
did it, sir," Grady said.  "Just like you said.  And it worked, too."

"You don't say," Bob joked.  "We'd never have guessed ... except that the
glow round you two is bright enough to set the room on fire.  But, er,
you're actually talking to the wrong guys ..."  He glanced at Danny who was
beaming at his two employers, over the moon at seeing them together again.

Grady went up to him and stroked his face.  "Danny ... we're both so sorry
for hurting you.  Can you ever forgive us?"  I promise we'll make it up to
you?"

With tears in his eyes Danny threw his arms round Grady and said, "All I
wanted was to see you in love again, sir."

"Danny, you're a prince among men.  If I'm the King of the Jungle you're my
prince, our prince.  We love you, Danny, and from now on, you're in charge.
You slap us down when we screw up."

Danny pulled back.  "About that, sir ... I'm sorry I spilled the beans and
all.  I know that confidentiality thing is real important but ..."

"Amico," Mario said, holding his hands.  "You did us a huge favor by
`spilling the beans' to Bob and Randy.  You made everything come right
... er ... with a little help from Randy of course.  Please say you'll
still be our chef and take care of us.  We'll give you a raise."

Danny blinked in surprise behind his glasses.  "Oh, I don't want more
money, sir.  I love working for you ... I'd do it for nothing."

"Hey, kid, watch your mouth," Randy said.  "Don't ever tell a guy who
offers you money that you'll do something for free.  He might take you up
on it."  Amid the ensuing laughter the door opened and the twins came in
with more trays of food.

"Thanks, guys," Bob said, "I'm sure these two are hungry after their, er,
workout in the gym.  And please stay and join us.  You can give us the
benefit of your advice.  It's time we put all this behind us and talk about
the future."

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

Bob did most of the talking and they all listened (even Randy, though his
mind was not so much on his words as on the desire to drag Bob back into
bed).

"First, this fight you guys had.  It may have been all bullshit as Randy
said, but there were some underlying issues that you can't sweep under the
carpet.  They're bound to come up again.  Grady's celebrity and upcoming
stardom would put a strain on any relationship.  He'll walk the red carpet,
be photographed, wined and dined and Mario will be invisible."

"No, godammit, I don't want that," Grady protested. "I love Mario and want
the world to know it."

"Grady, be realistic.  This is Hollywood, and when this movie opens your
face (and body) is gonna be known all over the world.  There'll be
paparazzi all the time, and believe me the tabloid press can be brutal.  Do
you really want to expose Mario to that?  That's why Mark is setting up the
tightest security money can buy at your house and you know Danny and the
boys are the soul of discretion."  He grinned.  "Plus Randy can get rid of
the press guys in an instant, just by swinging a plank of wood like he did
that time at the construction site."

"Grady," Mario said gently.  "Bob's right, and I'm happy to stay home,
watch you on TV and be here for you when you come home.  I'm separate from
that world, and we'll create another whole world in our home – it'll be
like parallel universes.  I shy away from bright lights.  All I want to do
is love you, amico."

"Having said all that," Bob continued, "these issues, plus the huge income
disparity, are bound to create problems and I want you to check in with
Dr. Steve as soon as possible.  He'll be able to diffuse whatever tension
you're feeling ... he has his methods..."  There were knowing smiles all
round ... they were all familiar with Steve's `methods'."

"Now to practical considerations.  Danny, Grady and Mario say you'll be in
charge at the Grady House and we'll give Brandon and Eddie as much free
time as possible to help you.  How do you feel about that?"

"Sir, I can handle the kitchen and all the cooking, no problem.  But the
house is still a mess right now and I'm gonna need help with that.  I know
you spoke to Adam and Nate, sir, and Nate told me they'd love to help.
Adam has a week's vacation coming up and ..."

"So why don't they spend it at the house?"  That was Kyle with the sudden
suggestion, followed by Kevin.  "They could move in for the week, there are
lots of spare rooms.  It would be a change for them.  Nate is great at
getting a house in shape and Adam could help Grady set up the gym he wants
there.  Simple."

Bob smiled at them in surprise.  "See, I knew you guys would come up with
something original.  You're not just two of the most beautiful chefs in
creation.  You've got brains too.  I'll run it by Adam, see what he thinks.
Good, it's all falling into shape.

"One last thing," Bob added.  It's Saturday, and tonight is shaping up too.
Randy, I know you and Zack have some kind of score to settle – payback
after Pablo stopped Zack from fucking Thomas."  He smiled with a hint of
derision.  "The big boys playing their macho games again."

"Careful asshole," Randy said, "or we'll include you and both of us will
work you over.  We'll probably spend the night together, although I don't
like the thought of you sleeping alone."

"I won't be," Bob grinned.  "Pablo will be sleeping with Darius so I was
thinking of asking him to lend me his boy Thomas for the night.  It's all
well and good for the boy to get gangbanged by a bunch of sweaty
construction workers but he has to learn that there are other, more subtle
ways of serving a master.  Brain power wins over muscle power any time as
he'll discover."

"Damn, you guys are too much for me," Grady smiled, all these ideas you
come up with.  "I'm just a simple actor.  Can't do anything without a
script to follow and a mark to stand on."

"Huh," Mario huffed.  "I can think of something you do all the time where
your feet are not on a mark.  They're not even on the ground."

"So what are we waiting for?" Grady laughed.  "Hey, I was thinking.  On our
way up the hill why don't we drop in on Pete and Brandon and invite them to
lunch?  Kind of a celebration.  That's if you can cope with lunch for five,
Danny."

"You are kidding, sir," Danny grinned.  "Twenty five and I might break a
sweat."

Mario laughed, grabbed the chef's hat from where Randy had thrown it and
jammed it on Danny's head.  "OK, chef, back to work."

"Music to my ears," said Danny and walked out of the room between them.

In the ensuing silence Randy studied Bob and noted the self-satisfied look
on his face.  He sighed, "You know, man, when you take charge like that,
giving orders and throwing your weight around, you really piss me off
... and give me a roaring hard-on.  When you go off on these power trips
someone has to knock you off your perch – and I guess it has to be me
again – as usual.  It's a fucking bore but someone has to do it.  OK,
get on the damn bed."

"Right away, sir," Bob smiled.  He lay on the bed, pulled off his shorts
and spread his arms and legs in spread-eagled surrender – waiting to be
`knocked off his perch'.  Randy gazed down at him, stroking his cock, and
his eyes gleamed.  "Damn, when you get bossy like that you look so fucking
hot.  But a man who challenges my authority ... he has to get fucked up the
ass."

"Why do you think I do it ... sir?"

"Asshole!" Randy grinned.  He spat on his cock, pushed Bob's legs in the
air ... and drove his shaft in his lover's ass.  It didn't take long.  They
were both so primed that they quickly got lost in each other's eyes and
their orgasms were noisy and simultaneous.  Seconds later Randy pulled out,
stood up and wiped off his cock.  He pulled on his jeans and said
matter-of-factly, "That'll show you who's boss around here."

Then he caught Bob's eye ... and they erupted in laughter.

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

It was a Saturday of high spirits as word of Grady and Mario's fight and
reconciliation – and of Randy's quick-fix remedy – spread on the
grapevine.  Pete and Brandon went for lunch at the Grady House and the men
showed Pete around the house and grounds while Danny and Brandon huddled in
the kitchen, cooking and gossiping and making plans for the future.

As promised, Bob had a word with Pablo and asked if he would let Thomas
spend the night with him.  "I need to show him that domination is not all
about dirt, sweat, ripped T-shirts and getting gang-fucked.  But, I have to
go to a cocktail party this evening that my company is giving.  Can't get
out of those things as a lot of business is done at these social occasions.
I'll be home about 9 o'clock and I want Thomas waiting for me at my door
when I get back, if that's OK with you."

"He'll be there, sir," Pablo smiled.  "I'm glad you'll be spending time
with him, sir.  I was wondering what to do next for him and I think a night
with you will teach him a lot of things I can't.  I appreciate your help,
sir."  He smiled his crooked grin.  "Besides, a night with Darius will do
me a lot of good too."

Saturday dinner was a leisurely, casual affair and the high-spirited mood
of the day continued into the evening as they sat around drinking.  But
everyone noticed the glances that passed between Randy and Zack and it was
obvious that something was simmering between the two construction bosses –
best buddies and friendly rivals.  It was unfinished business left over
from the gang-fuck of the new boy Thomas, when Pablo had stopped Zack from
fucking him.  Randy would have to pay for his boy's unthinkable act – a
boy giving orders to a master.

Eventually, at some silent signal they got up, stared into each other's
eyes, and walked out through the gate and across the street to Zack's
house.  Everyone wanted to be there to witness what went on but they knew
that this was a private affair between the two alpha males.

Bob was absent from the dinner.  As he had explained to Pablo he was
attending his company's social event, taking a prominent role as Senior
Vice-President.  Pablo had told Thomas that he was to report to the master
suite and wait for Bob to come home.  If Bob liked him enough he might ask
him to stay the night.  Thomas got an instant boner at the prospect, though
he wasn't sure what to expect.  Surely not the same down and dirty
treatment he had received from Randy, Zack and the guys at the construction
site.

Like everyone else, Thomas lusted for the handsome, muscular business
executive and his excitement mounted as he waited at the door to the master
suite as ordered.  Pablo sometimes told him what to wear but, when the
choice was left to him, he tended to model himself on the smart-casual
Italian style of Mario, as he had done tonight in an effort to please Bob.

He was dressed similar to the way he used to dress as an ice skater –
tight black pants that clung to his narrow hips and showed off his stunning
ass to perfection, and a loose white cotton shirt tucked into his slim
waist and unbuttoned halfway down so it hung open over his chest displaying
the flawless body of a gymnast.  Not the most macho of outfits but one he
knew showed him off best – and one he thought Bob would find sexy.

Nine o'clock came and went and still no Bob.  As the suspense mounted
Thomas began to fantasize.  His imagination flew to the group of rugged,
sweaty construction workers who had made him grovel, gang-fucked him and
then made him kneel while they blasted jism in his face.  That rugged,
macho image was a huge turn on for him and he tried to picture Bob
similarly dressed in dirty cargo pants, work boots and a torn T-shirt
hanging over his sculpted torso.  With that gorgeous face and body he would
look spectacular.

He imagined hearing a truck pull up at the gate, a door slam, then heavy
footsteps come up the stairs.  A fierce looking Bob, with his disheveled
dark hair and stubbled square jaw, would drag him into the room, rip off
his shirt and tight pants and throw him naked on the bed.  He would kneel
over him and pull off his T-shirt, then yank open his work pants, pull out
his huge cock and dry fuck him, ignoring his screams.  He'd make him kneel,
crawl, humiliate him by cumming in his face, then fuck him again.

The young gymnast's imagination ran riot and gave him such a hard-on in his
pants that he had to take a few deep breaths and think of something else to
stop himself from busting his load.  And as he stood there, his heart
beating wildly, he heard the sound of tires on gravel down below.  But it
was not the loud rumble of a truck, rather the purr of Bob's Mercedes.  A
door closed with a muffled thud and Thomas found it hard to visualize the
rugged, ragged Bob of his imagination getting out of the sleek sedan.

That image dissolved instantly when he caught sight of Bob coming up the
stairs. Coming straight from his firm's cocktail party he was dressed in a
well-cut dark blue business suit, crisp white shirt and red tie.  It was a
far cry from the sweaty look of the construction site, and of Thomas's
imagination, but as one fantasy faded another took its place.

Even in business attire Bob was an icon of alpha-male beauty.  Thomas had
once seen a porn video that featured hot businessmen in suits getting
together, making love and fucking.  It had been really hot, but none of
those guys could hold a candle to this man.  He was, as he had once heard
Darius describe him, a real masturbatory image.

Bob's tailored suit accentuated his muscular build, and the white shirt set
off his chiseled, square-jawed features.  The only feature that matched
Thomas's earlier fantasy was the tangled mass of dark hair that fell over
his forehead, contrasting with his otherwise immaculate appearance and
suggesting a hint of something wilder under the polite business attire.

Another stark contrast to Thomas's fantasy was Bob's attitude.  Far from
dragging him inside, ripping his clothes off and pounding his ass, Bob was
coolly detached.  "Good, you're here," he said.  "Come in."  Thomas was
momentarily reminded of the gentlemen he had serviced at the hotel, who
often treated him in the same dismissive way – a mere boy for hire.

As Bob brushed passed him to open the door Thomas detected the faint musky
scent of an expensive cologne – at the opposite end of the aromatic
scale from the pungent stink of sweat and grease of the construction
workers who had gang-fucked him.  But even this refined smell he found
intoxicating – at least as sexy on Bob as the sweat and grease of the
others.

"Stand there," Bob said over his shoulder as he went over to the drinks
cabinet.  Thomas stood in the middle of the room confused and disappointed.
He could have cum just looking at the man and wanted desperately for Bob to
use and abuse him ... but he was being all but ignored.

What was he doing wrong?  It had to be his clothes – the smart black
pants and loose cotton shirt.  Bad choice.  Obviously Bob was expecting him
in something more suggestive, slutty even, like a cheap hustler that would
rouse him and bring out the animal in him. God, he wanted that.  He wanted
this spectacular man to work him over, fuck him, hurt him, humiliate him.

He wondered if he should strip.  The hotel guests he used to service after
hours often began by telling him to get naked.  But no, the only order Bob
had given him was `stand there'.  So that's what he did, though he found it
increasingly painful to watch the handsome, sexy business executive.  The
guys who had gangbanged him had subjected him to pain, god knows, but this
was just as bad in its way, this longing for Bob to touch him – to
notice him, even.

What was worse was remembering what Pablo had said – that if Bob liked
him enough he might ask him to stay the night.  Well apparently Bob didn't
like him enough even to pay any attention him.  Thomas was scared that any
minute he would tell him to leave ... and the suspense waiting for that axe
to fall was the worst of all – a new kind of torture that, if anything,
hurt more than getting dry fucked by a gang of drunken laborers

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

Of course, Bob knew exactly what he was doing.  He had known almost from
the first what kind of man Thomas was, with his obsessive need for
domination.  And Randy was the obvious man to make his fantasies come true,
culminating in the gang-fuck on the construction site.  Bob also knew there
was no way he could compete with Randy on his own turf – a savage gypsy
using his physical strength and sexual magnetism to make a boy crawl to him
and beg for more.

Thomas craved that, but Bob thought he had to learn that there were other
ways for a boy to be dominated by a master.  There were more subtle methods
of making a boy beg and totally surrender.  If Randy was the master of
physical domination, Bob could be equally devastating without lifting a
finger.  He had even tortured Randy that way in the past and now he went to
work on the new boy.

He poured himself a Scotch and stood at his desk by the wall looking down
at a folder and thumbing through it as he sipped his drink.  Thomas saw the
concentration on his handsome face and felt even more that he was virtually
invisible to him.  But there he was wrong.

When Bob had come up the stairs he had treated Thomas with casual
indifference but he was acutely aware of how beautiful the boy was, with
his tight pants showing off his ice-skater butt and that sexy shirt hanging
open giving a glimpse of his gymnast's physique – flawless pecs and
razor sharp abs.  The nervous tension on his face made the young jock even
more attractive, with any scrap of his former arrogance long gone.  But Bob
gave no hint of the boner building inside his well-tailored pants.

A master of sexual fantasy Bob knew that the closer the fantasy was to
reality the more exciting it was.  And, in truth, his mind was still partly
on the business affairs he had been discussing at his company's social
event, details of which he was now browsing through as he stood at his
desk.  He drained his Scotch and Thomas watched as he poured himself
another.  He unbuttoned his jacket, shrugged it off and tossed it across
the room to Thomas.  "Hang it in the closet over there, boy."

Startled, Thomas did as instructed, briefly holding the collar to his nose
and breathing in the same musky smell of Bob's cologne before putting it on
a hanger.  He expected, wanted, more orders but they didn't come.  He stood
in the center of the room again and watched as Bob sat down at his desk,
leaned back in his chair and studied the folder, his free hand moving idly
over his crotch as he read.

Again Thomas had to fight to hold back his orgasm.  Bob was wearing a
short-sleeve white shirt, tailored to fit his torso snugly, the bulge of
his pecs clearly visible, the short sleeves pulled back from his biceps.
Underneath the shirt Thomas could see the faint outline of a white tank top
stretched over his chest and tried to imaging what he would look like
shirtless.  Bob put on his reading glasses, fashionable square-rimmed
glasses that made him look almost professorial, more masterful – and
even more stunningly handsome.

Thomas desperately wanted to touch his cock, knowing the merest touch would
make him cum all over the floor.  The frustration of watching the handsome,
muscular businessman made his balls ache but he knew he could not move
without permission.  And still Bob ignored him.  As if coming to a decision
Bob put down his drink, picked up his desk phone and punched a number.

"Hi, Susan, is David still there?  Good, yeah I'll hold."  He looked up
casually, held his hand over the mouthpiece and waved his finger at Thomas.
"Take the shirt off.  Hi, David, look sorry to call so late but there's
something I wanted to run by you ..."  He settled back in his chair,
loosened his tie and opened the top button of his shirt, revealing a tuft
of chest hair.

Thomas wasn't sure if he had heard right as Bob was now ignoring him again,
giving all his concentration to the phone call.  But he did as ordered,
undid his shirt, pulled it out of his waistband and let it drop to the
floor.  He stood shirtless, his hands behind his back, waiting.

Bob had his full attention on the phone conversation and Thomas didn't see
him glance at the shirtless young gymnast in the mirror, his black pants
hugging his narrow hips, the mounds of his spectacular ass visible in an
adjacent mirror.

"Shit damn," Bob breathed softly.  "No, nothing David, sorry ... yeah, so
what I want is to combine those two projects into one – makes logical
sense and would save a shitload of money.  Tell you what ... get ahold of
Marina and Ted and come to my office at eleven on Monday so we can
brainstorm it.  Call me back to confirm.  Good."

The authoritative Senior Vice-President put down the phone, took another
hit of scotch and stretched his arms above his head with a look of
satisfaction on his face.  With a deep sigh he pulled off his tie,
unbuttoned his shirt all the way down, lolled back in his chair and studied
the folder again.

Thomas's cock jerked in his pants as he gazed at Bob, whose shirt was now
pushed back on his shoulders and hanging open, exposing the white tank top
stretched over his chest.  As he read the documents his hand ran idly over
the tight tank, stroking the slabs of his pecs.  When his fingers brushed
against his nipples under the thin cotton he sighed, stirred in his chair
and reached for his glass of Scotch.

Thomas was beside himself with lust and frustration.  He had to touch this
man, get him to notice him.  In a perverse way it was the opposite of his
experiences showing off to his gentlemen clients at the hotel.  They had
watched mesmerized as he did a slow striptease.  Now here he was gazing at
the handsome, muscular executive as he slowly loosened his business
clothes.

The young athlete's frustration felt like physical pain as his cock bulged
in his tight pants, straining for release.  A whipping would have been less
painful – he would have welcomed it, would have gladly crawled through
dirt and degraded himself for it.  But this indifference from Bob was
driving him insane.

Crawl through the dirt.  That was it.  He knew how that looked to a master,
watching him drag himself forward, his ass cheeks flexing as he moved.  It
had sure turned on Randy and Zack.  He couldn't just stand here and cream
his pants looking at Bob, so he threw caution to the winds in a last-ditch
attempt to demonstrate his adulation of this beautiful man.

He kicked off his loafers, pulled off his socks and fell to his knees, then
prostrated himself on his stomach.  Shirtless and barefoot he dragged
himself forward over the carpet, the muscles of his back rippling, the
fabric of his pants pulled tight over his ass, clenching and releasing with
the crawling motion of his legs.

Ostensibly reading, Bob glanced over the top of the paper at the wall
mirror and stifled a gasp as he saw the erotic vision of the handsome young
blond degrading himself.  Bob had watched figure skaters on TV in the past
and admired their slim, athletic figures, their legs encased in tight
pants.  He had been sexually aroused focusing on their flawless butts as he
watched them jump and spin.  And now here was one of the most beautiful of
them, stripped to the waist, barefoot, crawling toward him in an act of
abject submission.

Bob shifted in his chair again to ease the position of his straining cock
and the compulsion to spray jizz in his pants.  But finally he could feign
disinterest no more when Thomas stretched his arms forward grabbed his
ankle, pulled himself forward and rested his face on his foot, licking the
shiny black shoe, a supplicant begging for a touch of the powerful
muscle-god executive.

"What the fuck...?"  Bob's voice was harsh.  "Did I tell you to move, boy?
Did I?"

"No, sir," Thomas panted desperately.  "No, I'm sorry, sir, but I wanted
you so bad.  I wanted to touch you, sir, I wanted you to touch me, just
once, sir.  You are so beautiful ... I need you, sir."

"`I want ... I want ... I need'.  This is not all about you, Thomas.  Can't
you see I'm working?"

"Please don't send me away, sir.  I'll do anything ... I'll stand there as
long as you like ... I won't speak, I won't cum."  His voice cracked in a
sob.  "I just want to be here, sir, in the same room as you.  Please don't
make me leave."

"Godammit," Bob growled, "I really don't need this with everything I have
to do.  OK, stand the fuck up."  Thomas leapt to his feet, trembling.  "Get
naked."  Bob sat at his desk and perused the folder again while the boy
yanked open his pants and pulled them off, then stood to attention in just
black briefs, the kind Mario wore.

A minute went by before Bob looked up casually from his file, "I said
naked, boy.  Turn around." He obeyed and Bob's eyes opened wide at the
sight of the exquisite ass, hugged by the straining fabric of the briefs.
"Holy shit," be murmured under his breath.  Then out loud, "Lose the
briefs."  Bob gulped as the briefs dropped and he saw the solid globes of
the flawless ass, gleaming white against the tan lines at his slim waist
and his sturdy thighs.

"Hmm, let's see if I should keep you around.  Show off your ass."
Instantly the naked young gymnast flexed his ass cheeks, making them bulge
and the dimples at the sides even deeper.  He reached back and ran his
hands over them, caressing his ass as if displaying it for sale.  He had
always felt degraded doing this for the men he serviced, but not now.  It
was a point of pride to show off his body for the man he craved, doing all
he could to be allowed to stay."

Bob held his lust in check, his desire to shove his dick between those
cheeks, and said in a bored tone.  "OK, I guess you can stay, but I'll make
sure I get no more interruptions.  Get on the bed, on your back."  Again
Bob had to control his emotions as the naked jock lay on the bed, his
erotically athletic body gleaming under the ceiling spotlights.  "Raise
your arms.  I gotta make sure you don't try the same stunt you did just
now."

Bob pulled one of his wrists to the corner bed post and tied it with the
rope that was always there.  As he worked on the other he said, "Randy
keeps these ropes here for when he wants to subdue a boy, whip and fuck
him."  He stood back, shrugged off his shirt and a smile crossed his face.
"Course, he does it to me too when he ties me down so he can work me over –
like whipping my body and fucking my ass to show me who's boss."  He
chuckled as he raised his arms in a gesture of how he looks spread-eagled
on the bed.

"Aaagh ..." Thomas's heart pounded as he gazed at the homoerotic image of
the business executive stripped down to his white tank, his torso tapering
down to a narrow waist.  As Bob raised his arms, his shoulders and biceps
flexed and the tank pulled out of the waistband of his pants, giving a
glimpse of his washboard abs underneath.  There were damp stains under his
arms and down the sides as sweat trickled down from his armpits and inside
the tank.

Thomas flashed on the pornographic fantasy of this beautiful alpha male
tied to the bed at the mercy of the savage gypsy, having his sweat-stained
clothes ripped off, his magnificent body whipped and his ass ramrodded by
the gypsy's massive cock.

It was an image Thomas could not survive.  Longing to touch his cock he
pulled desperately at the ropes binding him.  Bob lowered his arms and
watched as the naked jock writhed on the bed, his head thrashing from side
to side.  He screamed, "No, no ... I can't ... I don't ... aaah ... aaah
... aaagh!"  His cock erupted in a stream of semen that rose high in the
air and splashed down on his razor sharp abs.

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

Thomas sobbed in despair.  He had never felt so naked, so pathetic as he
lay tied up, tears running down his face and a pool of cum on his stomach.
The other day he had been humiliated by the construction workers when they
made him kneel and shot jizz in his face, but this felt worse. He had
wanted so much to impress the gorgeous executive, wanted to be desirable to
him, and here he was degraded in bondage, unable to stop his cock from
erupting at the sight of the dominant man towering over him.

"I'm sorry, sir," he stammered.  "I didn't mean to do that ... I know it
was wrong ... but you look so incredible, sir, I couldn't stop.  Please,
don't say it's over just because I shot my load, sir.  Don't make me go
away.  Let me stay a while, please ..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Look I gotta work on this big project so I don't need
distractions.  And I don't wanna hear from you.  Here, this ought to do it.
He reached behind his head, pulled up on his tank top and pulled it off
over his head, unveiling his bare torso before the boy's astonished eyes.
Seeing the muscle-god shirtless, stripped down to his suit pants, Thomas
closed his eyes tight, fearful of shooting another load.

When he opened them again Bob was bending over him.  "Let's get rid of this
fucking jizz.  He used his tank to mop up the pool of semen on his stomach,
then crumpled it up and stuffed it in Thomas's gaping mouth.  He stood back
and looked down at the naked blond gymnast choking on his gag.  "Yeah,
bound and gagged.  That's better.  Now maybe you'll leave me alone, you
young fucker."  Bob sat down at his desk, opened his laptop and started
work.

Thomas's head was swimming in a turmoil of fear, frustration and desire –
mostly desire.  He had a clear view of the shirtless executive, his
sculpted features and muscular body lit by the bluish light of the computer
screen.  He thought the gag would choke him at first so he breathed through
his nose, but he discovered that he could breathe though his mouth if he
inhaled deeply enough.  As he did so he was intoxicated by the smell and
taste of his own cum and Bob's sweat that oozed from the tank.

His cock was pulsing, rock hard again so soon after his orgasm.  He could
see the man's muscles rippling as he worked, could taste and smell him,
could drink his sweat if he bit down on the tank and sucked hard.  The
sensual overload was so intense that he drifted into a state of ecstasy.
He recalled that night in the hotel room when he had lost his virginity,
where his ass had been fucked by a man for the first time in his life.  And
that man had been Bob, the man he was looking at now, smelling him, tasting
him, swallowing his sweat.

And he knew beyond all doubt that that's what he craved again – to feel
Bob's cock in his ass.  He had wanted it even as he had waited for Bob to
come home, though he hadn't dared to hope for it.  Now, in the face of
Bob's indifferent attitude to him the prospect seemed even more remote.  He
closed his eyes and recalled how it had been, feeling Bob's big cock moving
inside him, but he felt another climax approaching and quickly opened his
eyes to dispel the image.

But he instantly found himself staring at the man himself and again his
cock jolted and he inhaled sharply to stop cumming.  But that deep breath
made his head swim with the taste and smell of the man and he bit down to
forestall his orgasm, which only made Bob's sweat trickle down his throat.
Whatever he did, consciously or unconsciously, eyes open or closed, the
mere act of breathing, he was overwhelmed by the essence of this man.  He
couldn't escape it, nor did he want to ... but he was powerless to act.

His lust for the man consumed him ... it was pure torture.  He could bear
it if Randy or Zack tied him up, whipped him and fucked him.  He could
crawl through the mud and get gang-fucked by drunken laborers.  But what
Bob was doing to him was sheer agony, a knife blade of frustration that
pierced him, body and soul.

Bob was so damn beautiful and he wanted him so much he couldn't take any
more.  It had to end.  He would just let go, give into his cravings, gaze
at Bob, drink his sweat ... and let his cock erupt again.  Bob would be
angry and send him away.  But he had no choice.

One of Randy's talents when he was pounding a man's ass was in knowing
exactly when the guy had reached his pain threshold.  Bob had the same
instinct, though in his case it was not physical pain, but even so he
sensed that Thomas had reached his limit. So just when Thomas was about to
surrender to his own sexual compulsion he heard a click of the laptop
closing and saw Bob stand up, stretch and yawn.

"That's that," Bob said with a look of satisfaction.  "Shit, hard work
always makes me feel horny.  Usually I come home to Randy and we fuck, but
tonight he's getting worked over and probably fucked by Zack.  But I need
me a piece of ass."  He leaned down and pulled the sweaty tank from
Thomas's mouth.  He held it to his own face and inhaled.  "Hmm, sexy.  I
suppose you wanna get your ass fucked, eh boy?"

"Aaaah," Thomas sobbed looking up at the stunning businessman, stripped to
the waist, stretching and flexing his muscles.  "Sir, I want it so bad.
I'll do anything, sir, anything you say.  Tie me up and whip me, torture
me... I'll crawl, I'll drink your piss, anything, just to feel your dick in
my ass, sir.  Please sir, this is the worst pain I ever felt.  I'll give
you anything you want."

Hey," Bob laughed, "all I said I wanted to do was fuck your ass, boy.
Besides, you have been tied up and tortured and you're crawling to me right
now, more than you've ever crawled to any man before.  Good thing I'm horny
as a stallion right now."

Bob ripped open his pants and pulled out his iron hard rod.  He knelt on
the bed and hooked the boy's legs over his shoulders.  He spat in the palm
of his hand and spread saliva on his cock.  "No need for lube this time, eh
boy?"

"No, sir, I'd take a dry fuck, sir – whatever you want."  After all he
had gone through – the torture of watching this spectacular man, craving
him but being ignored – he could now hardly believe he was actually
about to feel his cock in his ass.  Bob leaned forward and twisted the
boy's nipples hard.

"Thank you, sir," Thomas gasped, thrilled by the pain shooting through his
chest.  Then Bob slid the head of his cock between the white globes of his
ass and it came to rest in the soft, downy fuzz of blond hair round his
hole.  Thomas held his breath, waiting ... waiting for the moment he had
dreamed of, the moment he would feel the handsome businessman's cock enter
him.

As he tensed in anticipation he clenched his ass tight, which gave Bob all
the more pleasure as he slid his cock over the sphincter and eased it
slowly, gently into the boy's tights ass.  Thomas pulled against the ropes
binding his wrists, desperate to touch the magnificent, sculpted body
lowering itself over hm.  He gazed into the soft brown eyes that were
smiling now in contrast to the cold indifference of before.  A sensation of
pure joy raced through him as he surrendered himself, body and soul, to
this beautiful god-like man.

He saw Bob's hips rise as his cock eased back, then heaved a deep sigh as
it pushed back in, deeper, more insistent this time.  Thomas was floating,
flying, wallowing in every romantic clichι of heaven, the moon, the
stars, and indescribable happiness.

And then the phone rang.

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

Bob looked up and suddenly jerked his cock out of the boy's ass.  The
movement was so abrupt, so painful that Thomas opened his eyes wide and
howled "No!" ... and his cock blasted another jet of sperm over his heaving
chest.

Bob sprang to his feet, grabbed the phone from his desk and held it to his
ear.  "David!  Yeah, thanks for getting back to me."  As he listened to his
assistant Bob stood at the foot of the bed, still shirtless in dark blue,
tailored pants, and stared at Thomas while idly stroking his stiff cock
oozing pre-cum.  "Good, good, well done, so they're all on board.  Get
Roger to come too – he's great at crunching numbers..."

Thomas was beside himself, in an agony of frustration.  This couldn't be
happening.  He was so close to the fulfilment of his dream, his fantasy, so
close to heaven.  But it was paradise lost, shattered, as Bob reverted to
the efficient business executive of before.  But at least he was looking at
him, at least he was stroking his cock.  Thomas clung to these signs like a
drowning man clutching a lifebelt.  He had never felt so desperate in his
life.

"Sure, perfect.  Arrange for lunch to be brought in while we work.
Promises to be a long meeting.  Great work, David.  See you Monday."  He
turned off the phone and flung it on a chair.  Throughout the phone call he
had stared at Thomas, watching the beautiful young gymnast struggling naked
on the bed, tugging hopelessly against his restraints.  It looked so hot
that Bob would have busted his load if he had not had half his attention on
the phone call.

Instinctively Thomas begged.  "Please, sir, don't send me away.  I'll be
good, I'll be quiet.  Just let me stay in the same room with you, watching
you while you sleep."

"That doesn't sound like much fun, Tommy," Bob smiled.  He kicked off his
shoes, unbuckled his belt and let his pants dropped to the floor.  Thomas
stared in silent awe at the near naked executive in white boxers and black
socks.  Unbelievably the boy's cock, which had already unloaded twice, rose
up like a flagpole.

Bob walked to the side of the bed and raised one foot over Thomas's face.
"Pull it off, boy."  Eagerly the bound athlete took the end of the black
sock in his teeth and jerked his head back until the sock came off.  Bob
raised his other foot and Thomas pulled that sock off with his teeth.

The socks lay on his face and Bob used his bare foot to grind them across
his mouth.  Thomas inhaled the odor of sweaty feet, then licked the sole of
Bob's foot and sucked his toes in a first-time-ever act of foot worship
that now came naturally to him. He would do anything for this man.

Bob stepped back, dropped his shorts and stroked his cock.  "Should I cum
in your face, Thomas, like the other guys did?  Is that what you want?"

"Sir, do anything you want to me.  I worship you sir.  I'll do whatever you
tell me to."

Unexpectedly Bob dropped to his knees beside the bed and stroked the boy's
blond hair.  "Poor, Thomas," he smiled.  "I've really put you through the
ringer, haven't I?  I did it on purpose to show you there's another way a
master can discipline a boy – make him beg, make him surrender to a man.
And for the longest time I didn't even touch you.

"See, it's not all about getting gangbanged by a bunch of roughneck
construction workers, getting tied up and whipped, crawling through the
mud.  Though you did more than your share of crawling and begging, except
there was no mud and no torn T-shirts.  But don't worry Thomas, I am gonna
fuck your ass.  I knew that the minute I climbed those stairs and saw the
gorgeous young jock in his tight black pants and elegant loose shirt.  Cool
outfit by the way – real sexy.

"In fact, Thomas, you're gonna get more than fucked.  You're gonna share my
bed all night and I'm gonna make love to my beautiful blond ice-skater with
the buns of death.  Let's do something about this first."  Bob bent over
his chest and sucked up the semen Thomas had spilled.  Then he clamped
their mouths together and shared the juice with the boy. When he pulled
back Thomas's eyes were glistening with tears of relief and excitement.

Bob reached up and with a simple pull of the escape knot released first one
wrist then the other.  "There, just so you can touch me, which you've
wanted to do since we came in here.  Now I want you to show me your ass."

As the naked muscle-stud towered over him at the end of the bed Thomas
obediently put his hands behind his knees and pulled his legs back to
display his ass, an offering to a god.  "Now, where were we before we were
interrupted?" Bob grinned, kneeling between his legs.  "Oh, yeah, I
remember.  My dick was in your ass ... like this."  Once again he pushed
his cock into the warm, waiting ass, and once again Thomas took flight.

This time there were no interruptions, no phone call, just one man making
love to the other man's flawless ass.  Thomas reached up and ran his hands
lovingly over the sculpted body – over the chest, down the cleft between
the pecs, down the sloping lats and along the ridges of the eight-pack abs.

Bob leaned forward and kissed him, then turned him over on his stomach,
pressed the small of his back down on the bed and stared at the perfect
globes as he pushed his long shaft between them.  Eventually he pulled the
boy up on all fours and fucked him in front of the mirror doggy style as
Thomas gazed at the reflection of the naked executive fucking him from
behind.

They rolled over and over on the bed until Thomas was on his back again,
holding his legs back to give the master a clear shot at his ass.  Bob
said, "Do you want it hard, Tommy, so hard it will make you cum again?"

The boy's eyes gleamed.  "I've never wanted anything so much in my life,
sir."  He saw a change come over Bob's face, from the soft, gentle smile to
the fierce expression Thomas had seen in the eyes of Bob's gypsy lover,
Randy.  "Aaagh," Thomas howled as Bob's cock became a piston driving into
the furnace of the boy's ass.  Thomas reached up, clamped his hands on the
musclehunk's chest and dug his fingers into his pecs.

Impaled on Bob's pounding shaft he knew that he could not last long before
cumming yet again.  But this time he didn't try to hold back.  This time he
gazed up at the man who had driven him wild with desire and said, "Sir,
please let me cum.  I love you, sir.  Let me cum for you."

"We'll cum together, buddy.  Man, you have a beautiful ass.  It feels so
damn hot.  Here it comes, boy... I'm gonna shoot inside you ... yeah, yeah,
yeah ... now!"

As Thomas's head thrashed from side to side his mind flashed back to the
sight of the handsome, smartly dressed business executive coming up the
stairs, then sitting at his desk, his shirt hanging open over his tight
tank top, then towering over him shirtless.  And now here he was, the same
powerful man, buck naked, stretched over him pounding his ass and pouring
semen deep inside him.

"I love you, sir.  I love you ... Aaah ..."  A stream of white juice
spurted up from his cock and splashed on the heaving chest of the man above
him – the man he was going to sleep with all night long.

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

Thomas lay for a long time wrapped in Bob's arms ... but he was in for
another surprise when Bob suddenly said, "There's something I have to show
you, Thomas, another step in your education.  Get up and put those black
pants on again.  Don't worry, it won't take long, and then I'll bring you
back and we'll go to bed."

Confused and excited Thomas did as ordered while Bob pulled on blue jeans
and said, "Remember when you got gang-fucked by those guys and Zack was the
last?"

"Yes, sir, but my ass was so sore after the others that I couldn't take it.
I said the safe word and Pablo pulled Zack off of me."

"Yeah," Bob grinned, "and I can imagine how mad Zack was at being stopped
by a boy.  I'm surprised he didn't slug Pablo."

"Oh no, sir, Randy intervened and told Zack that Pablo was right to defend
me.  Zack was still mad, though, and I remember what he said to Randy.
`OK, but in exchange I'm gonna have your ass ... tonight ... at my house.'
Randy agreed, but I don't really understand why."

"He did it to save you and Pablo, Thomas.  It's what Randy does –
protects his boys, no matter the price he has to pay.  Randy and Zack are
two of a kind, both construction bosses, both tough alpha males.  They're
real close buddies, but competitive too.  They've had fights before, but
this time it's more than that.  It's a matter of honor between two dominant
males, one of those periodic trials of strength that the men need, a rite
of passage like two rams butting heads and locking horns to determine the
leader of the pack.

"But Zack can be a rough son of a bitch and I'm worried about what he'll
do.  I'd feel better about it if I were there, `cos I have a feeling that
I, or maybe even you, might be able to help Randy out.  After all, Randy
put himself at risk to protect you and Pablo.  So let's go see."

Bewildered at this sudden turn of events Thomas followed Bob down the
stairs, out through the gate and across the street to Zack's house.  And
there, in the garden, an extraordinary sight met their eyes.  Randy,
stripped to the waist in jeans and boots, was spread-eagled between two
trees, his arms stretched in a V, wrists tied to the trees, legs astride,
his feet similarly bound.

Zack, in black leather pants and boots, with a leather vest open over his
bare chest, stood facing him – the black leather master versus the
rugged King of the Gypsies.

"You know why we're here, man," Zack said menacingly.  "Your boy humiliated
me, pulling me off that new kid while I was fucking his ass.  Your boy did
that.  I wouldn't take that from you, let alone your boy.  You were saving
the kid from more punishment, I know that, but you still owe me.  It's your
own rule, man, the punishment fits the crime – an eye for an eye, and
ass for an ass.  And it's your ass that's on the line here."

Standing back in the shadow of trees Thomas said nervously to Bob, "What's
happening, sir?  What's he gonna do to Randy?"

"Ssshh.  Just wait, Tommy.  You'll find out."

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

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 302


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
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read the whole story, all the many chapters, with extras, including
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