Date: Tue, 1 Mar 2016 22:45:10 -0500
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 300  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 300
By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER: The new boy Tommy spends a day on the construction site.
After work, a rowdy group of horny, muscular laborers get their rocks off
gangbanging the hot young gymnast with the perfect ass.  Then, the new
movie Tarzan, Grady, and his Italian lover Mario reconcile after a huge
fight.  The naked jock begs the handsome Italian, "Show me you forgive me,
buddy. You know what I need ... I need it so bad."


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


Chapter 300 – "A FIGHT FOR LOVE & GLORY"


"Love and discipline – it's a delicate balance," Randy had said,
instructing his boy Pablo on the tough task of being a boy's master, now
that Pablo had a new boy of his own.

Pablo had had just spent his first night with his boy Tommy and in the
morning Randy inevitably got right down to basics.  "Did you fuck him?"
Bob winced at Randy's customary crude question but Pablo took it in stride.

"No I didn't, sir.  It was an interesting night – not what I had
intended at all.  See, when Tommy first took off all his clothes and stood
in front of me he looked beautiful naked but ... kinda lonely, real
nervous.  I know you all said he used to be an arrogant prick but what I
felt was ... I hope it's OK to say this, sir ... I felt sorry for him."

"So, no, I didn't fuck him, sir.  I made sure we both got off on each other
sexually by jacking off looking at each other, then he licked the cum off
me and spent the rest of the night sleeping in my arms.  Maybe I should've
been rougher on him, but I wanted us to get a feel for each other, get to
like each other.  I mean, you taught me that a man and his boy should be
friends.  I hope I did the right thing, sir."

Randy was proud to see that Pablo had the right instincts.  "See," Randy
said, "the boy responds to that friendship thing – makes him feel secure
– but he craves something else.  You know why he came here and you know
what he wants.  Tommy needs love and protection but he also needs to know
who the master is.  He craves that physical and sexual domination, the kind
I gave him when I worked him over real good in that hotel room.  That's why
he thinks he's in love with me."

At Bob's insistence Tommy went back to work out his notice at the hotel
before he quit.  Before he left Pablo said, "See you in two weeks, dude.
And when you get back you'll spend the day working with me and Darius on
the construction site.  Randy and Zack will be there too, horny as ever.

"So while you're away you have to decide whether you want to come back to a
bunch of tough, shirtless, musclehunk construction workers with big dicks,
looking out for a new guy with a gorgeous ass."  Thomas smiled at Pablo and
they both knew the answer to that question.

While he was away Randy took Pablo out on a motorcycle run and submitted
his body to his own boy to make sure he had what it takes – the fire in
the belly, as he called it – to give Tommy the physical and sexual
domination he had described, as well as love and protection.  Randy figured
that if Pablo could pound the ass of his own tough gypsy master and make
him submit, he could handle anyone.

Pablo proved himself to be more than equal to the task, subjecting Randy to
a savage fuck and fist pounding that forced the master to submit to his
boy.  When it was over, as they lay on their sides facing each other, Randy
said, "You did great, kiddo ... really convinced me you're ready to be the
master of a boy like Tommy."

"Thank you sir."  Then, after a long silence, Pablo asked, "Sir, do you
really think Tommy will come back to us?"

Randy laughed.  "Are you kidding?  I guarantee he'll be there bright and
early the morning after his last day of work.  Hell, you saw his face when
you described the construction site with ... what was it again...?"

"... a bunch of musclehunk construction workers, hung and horny, looking
out for a new guy with a gorgeous ass," Pablo laughed.

"And you really think he's gonna say no to that?  Hell, he's probably
jacking off thinking about it as we speak.  I'm looking forward to that day
myself, watching that hot young gymnast walking onto the site, seeing it
for the first time.  There'll be no looking back after that, kiddo."

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

Randy had been right, of course.  Tommy had thought of nothing else during
his last two weeks at the hotel and he had jacked off a lot imagining
Randy, Pablo, Zack, Darius, and then tried to picture them all laboring
shirtless on the construction site, sweating and cursing as men do, their
dicks hard in their work pants waiting for release during their next break
– looking for a new, hot piece of ass, as Pablo had put it..

He tried to shake those images from his mind and thought instead of Bob –
calm, steady, authoritative Bob who had shown him kindness when he was at
his most insecure.  Unlike the others, Bob's manhood was not defined by
raw, ripped-T-shirt physicality and raunchy sex.  His clothes were almost
preppy, his speech refined, his demeanor understated, and yet he oozed
masculinity and came across as the most dominant alpha male of them all.

It was Bob, playing by the rules, who had insisted that Thomas should come
back to the hotel and give his two weeks' notice – the right thing to
do.  He respected Bob for that.  He saw Bob as the rock the tribe was built
on and he knew that if ever he had a problem that could not be solved by
Pablo, Bob was the man he would go to.  But still, when he jerked off, the
image that first came to mind was the gypsy muscle-god Randy.

The thought of Bob calmed his fears – and he did have fears despite his
determination to return to the tribe.  As he moved through the hotel in his
smart uniform, being treated by the staff with the deference they owed to
an assistant manager, the thought of subservience to a young guy like
Pablo, plus becoming the low man on the tribal totem pole, seemed such a
dramatic change in his life.  He knew that he was throwing common sense out
the window and being led by his dick.  But, crazy as that was, he had no
choice.  He had to go back and submit to these men.

Pablo had promised to protect him, but how did that work?  Pablo was his
master, but he was a boy himself, obedient to Randy and the other masters
of the house.  If push came to shove, could he defy them to protect his boy
Thomas?  He knew that this was new unexplored territory in the tribe, and
the feeling that he was merely a pawn in this game scared him.

As he went to bed on his last night in the hotel all these doubts and fears
mingled with the uncontrollable excitement he felt.  He tossed and turned
in a dream-laden sleep and woke up way before dawn.  He had to get up, get
dressed, gather his bags and head back to whatever fate awaited him.  He
had to.

Like a man in a trance, drawn by some inexorable force, he went out through
the staff entrance, got into his car and drove off.  He glanced back one
last time at the luxury hotel, then set his sights firmly forward on the
road to his future.

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

By the time he reached the house his heart was beating wildly.  As
sometimes happens he had a last-minute moment of panic and for a fleeting
instant thought of turning tail and driving away.  But here he was at the
gate and he knew that going though it would shape his whole future.  So he
went through it.

It was still so early that everything was unexpectedly quiet in the house.
He stood nervously in the garden not sure what to do, when he heard sounds
coming from the kitchen.  He knocked and went in to find a hive of activity
in contrast to the silence of the rest of the house.  The twins and Danny
were busy preparing breakfast for all the guys.

Kyle looked up from the stove and grinned, "Hey, guys ... look what the
wind blew in."  Kevin added, "Welcome back dude, you're just in time for
breakfast!"

Danny wiped his hands on his apron, walked over and shook Thomas's hand
with a smile.  "Hello Thomas.  I'm glad you came back.  And I know Pablo
will be too.  He's up in his room with Darius.  Why don't you go on up?
I'll see you later, dude."

Encouraged by the friendliness of the three chefs Thomas went upstairs to
the boys' apartment and walked in.  There were sounds coming from the
bedroom so he knocked and tentatively opened the door.  He gaped as he saw
Pablo and Darius lying naked side by side on the bed, laughing, their
breath heaving.  And Pablo's body was smothered in cum.  He had clearly
just cum over himself while being fucked by Darius's ten-inch cock.

"Hey, Tommy!" Pablo shouted.  He leapt out of bed and took his new boy in a
tight hug.  When he pulled back he realized he had covered Tommy's shirt in
semen.  "Oops," he grinned.  "I messed up your shirt dude.  Jism is
something you'll soon get used to ... kinda goes with the territory round
here.  Hey, it's good to see you, Tommy.  I'm real glad you came back –
thought you would.  So you're here for good this time?"

"Yes, sir, if you still want me."

"'Course he does, dude."  Darius sprang boisterously out of bed buck naked
and wrapped his muscular black arms round the boy. "My buddy here's got big
plans for you.  But hey, first things first.  You hungry?  Sure you are.
Let's go down and see what our three chefs have cooked up for us."

Swept up in the energetic force-field of the tribe Thomas was hustled
downstairs where the rest of the clan was gathering noisily for breakfast.
It was all happening so fast he had no time to wonder if coming back here
was the right thing.  He just knew that it was – beyond a shadow of a
doubt.

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

>From then on everything was a haze of activity.  Having just come from a
well-ordered, opulent world where he had been in a position of authority he
found a sense of relief in submitting himself to the authority of others,
specifically Pablo.  After breakfast Pablo took him back upstairs.  "OK,
time for work.  Don't wanna piss off Randy by being late on your first
day."

Thomas was surprised to see Pablo take off all his clothes, then pull on a
pair of ragged oil-streaked dungarees over his naked body and hook them
over one shoulder.  He put on muddy work boots and that was it.  "That's me
done," he grinned.  "Ready for work.  Randy likes me this way.  It's how I
was when he first met me."  Darius was already wearing black jeans and
boots and that was it for him too.  No shirt.  He looked stunning, his
muscular black torso flexing in anticipation of manual labor.

Pablo grinned, "That preppy T-shirt and neat jeans with creases down the
front won't do for where we're going, Tommy.  Here try these.  He tossed
him a pair of his old cargo pants and boots and a frayed tank top.  Pablo
surveyed the finished result with satisfaction.  "Hot, dude.  You'll fit in
real well in that outfit with that body of yours ... turn a few heads,
stiffen a few dicks."

Excitement mounted in Thomas as he sat between Pablo and Darius in Pablo's
big truck, starting to feel almost like one of the crew.  But that delusion
was dispelled when he saw the real crew as he went through the gates of the
construction site.  The picture was more erotic even than his own earlier
imaginings – a boisterous scene of lusty workers in grimy pants and
T-shirts, flexing their muscles as they labored, yelling, swearing, in the
testosterone-heavy atmosphere of macho alpha-males.

And in the middle of it all was Randy, taller than the rest, clearly the
boss, yelling orders and curses as he strode though the site.  Near him was
his co-manager, the black muscle-god Zack, as always shirtless in black
jeans and boots like his boy Darius.

Randy broke away from the activity and strode toward the small group that
had just come onto the site.  His swarthy, square-jawed features broke into
a gleaming smile and he gave Tommy a bone-crushing handshake.  "Hey, there,
Tom.  Good to have you back.  Knew you'd come.  I'll see you later –
then I'll give you my personal welcome to the site."  Abruptly he walked
back into the thick of the action.

Thomas looked questioningly at Pablo who grinned, "Don't ask, dude.  You'll
find out."  Darius peeled off to go work with Zack, and Pablo said, "Come
on, let's see what Ben's up to with this truck."

The young gypsy, Randy's kid brother, was cursing in frustration at the
obstinate engine that refused to cooperate.  "Hey, dude," Pablo said, "you
two met before, right?  Tommy's here to help us for the day."  Ben grinned
at Thomas as Pablo took an expert look at the engine.  "I see what your
problem could be.  OK, Tommy, get your hands dirty – hand me that
wrench."

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

After that the day proceeded pretty much as it had started, with everyone
focused on work.  The sun rose, the men sweated – and Tommy's rigid cock
dripped pre-cum in his work pants.  Dirt and grease were not really his
thing but he felt more alive than he ever had as he worked alongside Pablo,
and periodically caught Randy's eye over the grunting mass of activity.

Randy had decreed that they would all work through the lunch break and quit
work early, a decision he knew would be popular with the crew.  It seemed
like a long, hot day to Tommy who was so turned on by the homoerotic scene
all round him that he longed to jerk off.  But he didn't dare to even when
he took a bathroom break, instinctively waiting for Pablo's permission.

The result was that when the end of the work day came in mid-afternoon he
was as ragingly horny as the rest of the men.  The crew eagerly left for
home, leaving behind the family group of Randy and Zack, their boys Pablo,
Darius, Ben ... and of course Pablo's boy Thomas.

Thomas was surprised that they didn't head for home too.  Instead they went
to a hut that was used by the crew during breaks, with a rudimentary
kitchen, chairs, benches and an old mattress that men occasionally rested
on if they had been injured.  They all lounged around while Ben broke out
beers from the fridge and they kicked back drinking and, Thomas noticed,
rubbing their crotches.  As always the twins had provided them with packed
lunches which they broke open and munched hungrily.

Conversation was mostly about the day's events on the site, like Pablo's
progress report on which trucks and heavy equipment still had problems, and
Zack conferring with Randy on the next day's priorities.  Thomas remained
silent, listening to the men – and lusting for them as he breathed in
the intoxicating smell of grease and man-sweat that hung heavy in the air.
He had the impression that underneath the everyday talk of work there was a
groundswell of raw sexuality that threatened to rise to the surface any
minute.

Pablo sensed his boy's unease and took him into the adjoining toilet for a
quiet word as they stood side by side at the urinal and peed.  "I want you
to know one thing Tommy.  Whatever happens, no one in this tribe has to
take more than he can handle.  It's one of Randy's firm rules.  For
instance, he makes everyone use escape knots, and there's always a safe
word.  The thing that always makes me feel safest is my dog Billy, so
that's your word, dude.  If anyone pushes you over your limit, you say
Billy to me and I'll make sure it all stops."

When they went back into the hut the atmosphere had changed.  The small
talk had died down and they were all looking lasciviously at Thomas, who
waited in the middle of the room while Pablo sat down next to Randy.  Randy
whispered in Pablo's ear and the boy nodded, evidently agreeing to what
came next.

 "We were just talking about you, Tommy boy," Randy said.  "Seems you
worked well today, so you've earned the boss's reward I sometimes give to
new boys like you.  OK, boy.  Give the guys a good look at you.  Take your
shirt off."

Tommy pulled off his tank top, and stood shirtless under the men's
appraising gaze.  Not for the first time he felt like a slave at auction
waiting to see which of the men would buy him.  "Shit damn," Randy said,
"look at that body, guys ... one day I'll have the kid do gymnastics in
front of the tribe while all the guys jerk off watching him.  Right now,
though, we gotta give him our traditional welcome to the crew.  Turn round,
boy."

He obeyed and all eyes settled on the shape of the perfect buns straining
against the tight fabric of the cargo pants Pablo had given him.  "Drop
`em, boy."  There was a collective gasp as his pants fell round his boots
and the hard, round globes of his ass were displayed in all their glory.

"Shit, guys," Randy growled.  "Forget that coin toss we always use to
decide who goes first. This time I gotta claim boss's privilege, I want
that ass so damn bad.  Turn back round, Tommy."  The young athlete turned
round and blushed deeply as his cock stood out stiff as a poker from his
mass of blond pubic hair.  "You know what's gonna happen to you, don't you,
boy?"

"Yes, sir.  You're gonna fuck my ass, sir."

"Damn right I am.  And then the rest of the guys get their turn at your
butt.  Don't worry, Pablo's agreed to loan you out, and by the look of that
boner you got there you want it real bad, right?"

"Yes, sir.  Real bad, sir."  Thomas's heart was pounding at the thought of
getting gang fucked by these horny construction workers.  His legs felt
weak and pre-cum dripped from his cock as he stared hypnotically at Randy's
laser blue eyes.  Randy stood up, pulled off his own filthy tank top and
used it to wipe the grease and sweat from his own face and body, then
approached the boy.  "You're sweating like a pig, dude.  Here let me get
that."

Randy wiped the boy's chest and face and Thomas felt himself being gagged
and suffocated by the filthy tank pressing against his face, forcing him to
breathe in the stink of the gypsy's sweat and man juices.  His legs gave
way and he sank to his knees before the master.

Ever since the time Randy had first worked him over in the hotel room
Thomas had craved more from him and now he didn't care if the other men got
to witness his abject surrender.  Impulsively he leaned forward on hands
and knees, still in his boots with his pants round his ankles, and found
himself looking at the only mirror in the rudimentary hut.  He watched as
the rugged, bare-chested gypsy behind him ripped open his pants and yanked
out his cock, hard as a battering ram.  Thomas raised his gorgeous ass in
the air and begged, "Please, sir ... please fuck my ass, sir."

Randy knelt behind him, pressed his hands on the rock-hard twin globes and
moaned, "Beautiful fucking ass.  I gotta have it."  But before he could
make another move Pablo interceded and pulled a small jar of lube from the
pocket of his dungarees.  Randy usually had no time for such refinements
but this was Pablo's boy so he nodded and allowed him to grease up the
boy's ass.

"OK, Tommy," Randy growled, "is this what you wanted?"  Slowly but firmly
Randy pushed his big tool between the cheeks, over the sphincter and drove
it into the depths of his ass.  "Aaah," Thomas shuddered and moaned
raggedly, "Thank you, sir.  Fuck me, sir. I need it so bad."

So that's what he got, a classic fuck where Randy used all his finesse and
precise awareness of just what the boy needed and how far he could go.  As
horny as he was after the day's work his animal instinct was to jackhammer
the flawless ass, but this was not some stray piece of ass he could use
just to get his rocks off.  This was his boy's boy and Pablo was watching,
learning from the master the art of how to please his boy by alternating
force and tenderness, driving the boy wild with desire.  (`Love and
discipline –a delicate balance.')

After repeatedly pulling the boy's ass back onto his cock Randy then pushed
him flat on his stomach and arched over him like a man doing pushups as he
impaled his ass on his rod.  They both locked eyes in the mirror, Randy
smiling with a hint of arrogance.  He knew what a great fuck he was, knew
the boy would take anything from him.  Mindful of his boy, Pablo watched
carefully, always in Thomas's eye-line making sure he was OK.

The other men watched too, mesmerized, as the gypsy's muscular body rose
and fell over the flawless ass, until Randy said at last, "I know what you
want most, boy."  He pulled out, flipped him onto his back, pushed his legs
high so his boots were hooked over Randy's shoulders, his crumpled pants
round the back of his neck.  The image was pornographic – the shirtless,
muscular construction boss fucking the new young recruit with his pants
round his ankles.

Randy leaned forward, pinned his wrists to the ground, eased his cock back
into his ass and stared into his eyes.  "This is what you like best, I know
that boy, pinned down at the mercy of the big gypsy, feeling his pole
sliding in your ass.  Right?"

"Yes, sir."  Thomas was in heaven, feeling blissfully helpless as he gazed
up at the muscular dirt-streaked chest rising over him, at the stubbled
jaw, the chiseled features, the long, black hair and the hypnotic,
steel-blue eyes penetrating him while his rod penetrated his ass.  In such
a haze of carnal pleasure he could have taken the gypsy's cock endlessly,
only he was having increasing difficulty holding back his orgasm, knowing
he had to wait for permission.

Sensing everything Randy grinned.  "You wanna bust a load, kid?  I know –
you make me real hot too.  OK, you cum when you feel my jizz pumping inside
you.  Let's kick up the action, eh?"

His cock pistoned harder and faster in the boy's ass, their hearts pounded
and Randy flashed a gleaming smile.  "OK, kid, this is it ... here it
comes.  Do it boy ... Now!"  As he felt the gypsy's hot juice flooding his
ass, Thomas thrashed wildly, he screamed and a stream of cum spurted up
from his cock and splashed on the boss's heaving chest.

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

Randy pulled out and rolled off Thomas laughing, "Holy shit, that boy has
one helluva hot ass. You guys gotta get a piece of the action here.  He
sprang to his feet and grinned at Pablo.  It's your call, buddy.  He's your
boy.  You want him to take more?"

Pablo looked down at Thomas's sparkling eyes that spoke for themselves.
"Reckon so," Pablo said.  "Hey Ben, about time you got a taste of my boy's
ass.  You too, Darius."  They did not need telling twice and from then on
it was a blur of sex and semen as Thomas was spit-roasted on all fours,
with Ben banging his ass while Darius pushed his ten-inch cock (at least
half of it) down his throat.

When Ben had cum noisily in Thomas's ass Darius took his turn behind him.
Cautioned by the warning look in Pablo's eyes he was careful not to hurt
him with his massive shaft but it still took its toll on Thomas's ass until
Darius finally added his juice to Randy's and Ben's inside him.

Then all eyes turned to Zack.  The muscular black leather master had been
stroking his huge cock as he watched Randy with that sense of friendly
rivalry that always existed between the two alpha-male bosses.  So now, as
he stood up and towered over the kneeling boy, he was motivated to prove he
could be as tough as Randy when fucking a new recruit.

He planted his black boot down on the boy's ass cheeks and pressed down
hard, pushing him flat on his stomach.  He fell forward, braced his hands
on the ground beside Thomas's head so he was arched over him as Randy had
been – only his hands and feet touching the ground.  Suddenly his hips
fell and his huge black shaft pierced the boy's already tender ass.

Thomas's scream rang round the hut and he gritted his teeth, trying
desperately to endure the pounding that followed.  Proving that he was as
much of a boss as Randy, Zack ramrodded the boy's ass, taking him right up
to his pain threshold.  But what he had not taken into account was how raw
Thomas's ass was already after being serially fucked by Randy, Ben and
Darius.

But Pablo knew ... knew how sore his ass must be by now.  He was on high
alert, kneeling in front of his boy, watching his face carefully for signs
of his limit of endurance.

Zack was playing to the gallery now, under the scrutiny of his buddy Randy
and his boy Darius.  As he had once before, Thomas loved being dominated by
the magnificent black muscle-god, but after already getting triple-fucked
his ass was burning raw and he knew he couldn't take any more. Grasping at
the safe word he looked pleadingly at Pablo and moaned, "Please, sir ... I
think I need Billy."

Instantly Pablo was on his feet shouting, "OK, that's enough.  No more!"

"Not yet," Zack panted, pounding harder.  "I'm getting close ..."

"I said that's enough!  Stop ... now!"  Exerting all his strength Pablo
grabbed Zack's shoulders and pulled him off Thomas as the others gasped.
It was an unthinkable act – a boy forcing a master to stop fucking, and
Zack predictably leapt to his feet and whirled on Pablo.  But an ugly
confrontation was averted as Randy stood up and fixed his gaze on his
friend.  "Pablo is the boy's master, Zack.  He's protecting him.  You would
do the same, bro."

Zack relented, knowing Randy was right, though the concept of Randy's boy
Pablo as a master was tough to swallow.  To save face he grinned at Randy,
"OK, bro, but in exchange I'm gonna have your ass ... tonight ... you come
to my house."

"Deal," Randy grinned.  "You can tie me up and work me over.  See if you've
still got what it takes, big guy.  But right now you've still gotta unload
all that jizz busting your balls, so what say we give our new recruit a
group welcome, guys?"  He pulled Thomas upright on his knees and the men
and boys stood round him in a tight circle, stroking their cocks.

In a daze the naked athlete looked up at the pornographic sight of five
raunchy, shirtless construction workers stroking their cocks above his
face, their sweat dripping down on him, and he waited breathlessly for what
he knew was coming.  Zack was first, slamming a load of hot jizz in his
face and mouth, followed by Ben, Darius and then finally the gypsy boss
himself.  Only Pablo held back.

Semen rained down on the young gymnast, streaming over his muscular body,
in his hair, over his face and in his mouth as he gulped down the warm,
rancid juice that had been building all day in the horny construction
workers.  Overwhelmed by the taste and smell of sweat and semen he thought
he would drown in cum, but he didn't care.  He wasn't scared anymore.  This
is where he wanted to be ... safe in the certainty that Pablo would always
protect him.

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

Randy, Zack, Darius and Ben left the hut still swigging beer, a rowdy group
of laborers who had just got their rocks off after work by gangbanging the
new blond recruit with the perfect ass.  As he left, Randy murmured to
Pablo, "You were terrific, kiddo.  A great master.  Now take care of your
boy."

Pablo helped the exhausted, cum-splashed boy over to the mattress where he
lay on his back regaining his scattered wits.  "Thank you, sir.  I'm sorry,
I tried, but my ass was so sore I ..."

"It's OK, Tommy.  Getting gang fucked by that group is real tough.  You did
great.  But you probably saw that I was the only one who didn't cum.  You
probably also realize that, ever since we met, we've done a lot of stuff
except one thing.  I've not actually fucked your ass.  I was saving it for
the right moment.  And that moment is now, dude."

Thomas winced in alarm.  "But, sir, my ass is ..."

"I know, I know, real sore, but there's one thing Randy taught me early on.
When he fucks me he can be real savage, but when he's pounded me raw he
suddenly stops and makes love to my ravaged ass real gentle like.  Now I'm
gonna show you what that feels like."

Pablo knelt between Tommy's legs, pushed them up and pressed the head of
his dick between his ass cheeks.  "No need for lube, your ass is so damn
slick with cum.  You trust me, Tommy?"

"Yes, sir."  He stared into the almond shaped eyes smiling down at him and
winced as he felt his master's cock enter him.  But it was so slow, so
tender, that the first hint of pain disappeared and he experienced an
exquisite sensation he had never felt before.  His ass was alive, the raw
membrane so sensitive that he felt every slight movement of the cock
sliding slowly inside him.

He relaxed and surrendered himself totally into the care of his handsome
young master.  He felt he was floating on air as he realized at last just
what it meant to be a man's boy, to be loved and protected ... not to
mention fucked in the most exciting way he could ever imagine.  It went on
and on until his ass was on fire, and just when it got too hot to endure
... he felt his master's juice pouring inside him it was like balm soothing
his wounded flesh, and his own semen pumped out of him and over his chest.

Pablo's sparkling eyes smiled down at him, Thomas smiled back ... and they
started to laugh.  The hut that had echoed to so many erotic sounds that
afternoon, now rang with laughter as master and boy lay side by side on the
old ragged mattress, an unlikely place to begin their new life together.

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

As the days went by, Thomas found himself getting used to the routine of
the house, the moods of the men and the dynamic of the close-knit tribe.
While Randy was obviously the undisputed boss of the construction company
and leader of the tribe, Thomas was confirmed in his belief that the house
and family functioned according to the desires and rhythms of Bob.

On that first day, after his hazing at the construction site, Thomas was
summoned for a meeting with Bob.  He went up to the master suite and found
Bob in his small private office, barefoot in his customary blue jeans and
white V-neck T-shirt.  He seemed to look more stunning every time Thomas
met him, like the kind of man whose beauty surprises you every time you see
him.

Bob flashed a welcoming smile and Thomas felt his dick get hard even though
he had just cum often enough to last a week.  "Take a seat, Thomas.  I just
wanted to add my own formal welcome to the clan, although I imagine you
just endured something rather less formal at the work-site.  I know how
those guys can be.  Did you come through it OK?"

Thomas reassured him that he was more than OK, and Bob could tell from his
shining eyes that Randy had worked his magic again ... and Pablo too, no
doubt.  "While you were gone for two weeks I discussed with Pablo your
future with us.  First we have to find you a room, and fortunately there's
one that has been vacated by Mario who is, of course, living with Grady.
Danny was there for a while but is staying with Brandon until he moves into
the Grady House.

"You'll like the room, which Mario decorated with all the charm and finesse
of his Italian culture.  Which brings me to what work you will do here.  I
have future plans in mind for you but in the meantime I don't think the
construction site is the place for you.  You don't strike me as the torn
T-shirt and greasy pants kind of guy – me neither as you've probably
guessed.  We have that in common.

"So I'll have you work with Nate for now.  He's in charge of keeping the
house in shape, assisted by Eddie, and with the opening of the Grady House
there's going to be a whole lot of work of that kind.  Grady and Mario are
already in the process of moving into the house with Danny's help, so we'll
see what develops.

"Now you'd better go and change out of those work clothes of Pablo's and
take a shower – wash off the smell of sweat and semen before dinner."
Bob smiled.  "Why don't you put on what you were wearing when you came here
– that white T-shirt and the jeans with creases down the front?  You
looked good in that – kind of what I'm wearing.  Two of a kind, eh?"

Impulsively Thomas stood up, threw his arms round Bob and kissed him,
feeling his hard muscles under his T-shirt.  He pulled back, embarrassed.
"Sorry, sir, it's just that I owe you so much and you've been so kind to me
..."

Bob laughed, "You don't have to apologize for a kiss, Thomas.  Don't forget
that you're a beautiful young man and one day soon when Randy spends the
night with Pablo you can share my bed and sleep with me.  I don't think
Pablo would object to that, do you?"

Thomas almost creamed his pants.  A night with Bob!  He smiled and said
boldly, "I don't think Pablo or anyone else would ever object to anything
you wanted. sir.  Not even Randy."

"Especially not Randy," Bob chuckled.  "OK, off you go. It's great having
you here, Thomas."

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

As Bob had said, the move into the Grady House was in full swing.  Bob had
negotiated a very short escrow and Grady was now the legal owner.  It was a
big house, there was a whole lot of furniture and the operation was
complicated, with more than its share of the usual frustrations and
glitches associated with any move-in.  Danny, the future chef-housekeeper
was in the thick of things, with Mario making most of the decisions about
furniture placement.

It all coincided with a couple of heavy weeks for Grady at the studio with
long hours and a lot of tension, as the 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
frustrations.

So he was absent from the house much of the time and when he came home he
was exhausted and in a bad mood.  Mario did his best to console and comfort
him and Danny kept a close eye on things, trying to gauge the root of the
tensions and doing his best to ameliorate them.  During the day he had the
help of Brandon, Eddie and Nate but in the evening he was alone with the
two men.  The twins had helped him set up the kitchen where he spent most
of his time trying to soothe angry spirits by teasing their taste buds.

But inevitably, as the days wore on, tempers flared.  Frustrations built in
both men – Mario trying to cope with setting up the house, making
decisions for Grady, trying to guess what his preferences were ... Grady
battling the stress of the studio where much of the movie's success rested
on his shoulders.

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, affection went
out the window, replaced by irrational argument and recriminations.

One night Grady came home in a foul mood and Mario was obsessing over
furniture that had been damaged in transit.  He tried to discuss it with
Grady who snapped, "Look, I don't wanna discuss fucking furniture, OK?  I'm
out there all day busting my butt to pay for all this and that's why you're
here, to make the place decent for when I come home."

Clearly that hadn't come out the way Grady meant it, but it had been said
and in the ensuing standoff Grady stormed out and spent the night alone in
one of the guest rooms.  He left again at crack of dawn and Mario spent the
day stewing over what Grady had said.

It had struck a nerve because Mario was acutely aware of the imbalance in
their relationship, which played on his insecurities.  Grady was the
budding movie star, earning a ton of money that made this house possible
and Mario was a mere gardener, relegated now to arranging furniture to
please the master.  Such things are trivialities at first, overcome by
love, but when the pressure is on, hairline cracks like this can become
chasms, relationships can suddenly crumble and fall apart.

Grady came home late again and, looking to lash out at anyone, anything, he
said, "Damn, this room looks as if it's been decorated to death.  All that
fancy shmancy Italian decorator bullshit I suppose.  You know I like things
casual, cluttered, easy-going, but this room looks like a fucking antique
shop."

Mario flared up.  "Well what am I to do?  You're never here so I have to
guess what you want while you're being pampered at the studio, everyone
falling over themselves to keep Grady happy.  I'm not one of your paid
staff, you know."

"Oh no?  Seems to me it comes pretty close.  I'd remind you that I'm the
one paying for all this, paying for the house, the lifestyle and keeping
you in luxury, and all I want you to do is your job?  What is your job by
the way, man?  The gardener?  A lot of bills that fucking pays. You're such
a star-fuck ... the only reason you stick around is you just wanna be the
boyfriend of someone rich and famous."

"Fuck you, man!" Mario yelled, eyes blazing.  "So speaks the high and
mighty movie star, the glamorous muscle-god everyone is supposed to fall
down and worship.  Well if that's my role, count me out, asshole.  Oh, I
get it now.  All you want me around for is to keep your bed warm, to fuck
your ass when you need it – which is most of the time by the way –
and then rearrange the furniture when you're gone.

"OK, you wanna know what my job is?  I'll tell you – resident toy-boy to
keep the master happy in bed, pretend to make love to him like a paid
hustler.  Well I've got news for you, jungle man.  I'm done with playing
the part of Tarzan's boy.  I'm outa here, buddy – for good."

"Great," Gray snarled, "now I can have whoever I want up here.  Do you have
any idea how many gorgeous guys there are at work who drool over me all
day.  They'd give their eye teeth to live up here with me, make love to me
and be kept by me the way you are.  So go.  Who needs ya?"  He shoved Mario
who staggered backward, almost coming to blows."

Mario stormed out, slamming the door behind him.  Grady went into the
bedroom and slammed that door.  Danny, who had heard everything, was left
alone in the kitchen, his eyes brimming with tears.  The men he loved, the
two beautiful men he was going to live with, look after, were breaking up.
It was over.

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

Danny spent a fitful night in his room in the house, tossing and turning,
running through his mind over and over again the terrible things he had
heard.  It was hard to believe it had actually been Grady and Mario
fighting, beautiful men mouthing such ugly words.  They had always been so
much in love, so happy and fun-loving, but the words had been real and so
hurtful it was hard to see how the damage could ever be repaired.

All Danny could think of to do was to continue at his job, stick to routine
and keep the house running.  So he got up early, went to the kitchen and
started to cook breakfast for Grady.  In a desperate reach for normalcy he
put on his apron and his chef's hat to remind Grady of how things were
meant to be.

When he heard Grady moving around the house he held his breath, hoping.
But Grady dashed his hopes when he looked into the kitchen and said
gruffly, "Saturday today.  Day off.  No breakfast, I'm going down to
Randy's gym – need to work out."

"But, sir, I ..."

"It's all over, Danny.  After the things he said to me – like he was
`pretending to love me' – nah, no coming back from that."

"But you said some terrible things too, sir."

"I don't need to hear it, boy," Grady snapped.  "It's over, done."  And he
was gone – no words of comfort, no hint of remorse or reconciliation.
Sadly Danny turned off the stove and sat alone in the kitchen staring into
space, feeling bereft.

His cell phone rang.  It was Jamie, speaking softly and hurriedly.  "Danny,
I can't make out what happened up there but Mario's here.  He came last
night and said he wants to stay here in our guest room until he finds a
place of his own.  He seems so angry Mark said it's best not to ask too
many questions.  I just wanted you to know he's here and safe.  Sorry,
dude, gotta go."

At least he was safe, with his old boyfriend Jamie.  But what next?  Danny
couldn't just sit there on his own and do nothing.  He loved these guys and
they loved each other, he was sure of it.  Then he remembered someone
telling him if ever he was in trouble to go to him.  Bob.  That was it.  He
could solve anything.  Danny dashed out of the house, jumped in his small
truck and drove away, making sure the gate swung shut behind him.

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

Randy and Bob's Saturday morning ritual was to have breakfast in their
room.  They had just got out of bed and they were still in just their
boxers sitting at the small table when they heard tires on gravel outside,
then footsteps on the brick path ... and then a hesitant knock at their
door.  "Come in!"

The door opened and in came Danny, looking bewildered and lost, with a deep
sadness in his eyes.  Before they could say anything words poured out of
him.  "I'm sorry, sirs, I shouldn't have come, I know that ... I know
things are confidential so I mustn't say anything, that's the deal ...  but
you did say I could come to you if there's trouble and there is, sirs.  It
was so bad I didn't know what to do but I've gotta help them, you see, I
gotta ..."

"Hey, hey, hey, Danny, calm down." Bob said taking his arm.  "Now sit down
and take a deep breath."  Danny slumped in a chair and Bob's heart went out
to the boy, looking so earnest, blinking behind his black rimmed glasses.
He looked pitiful still wearing his chef's hat and apron as if trying to
convince himself that he still had a job.  "OK, now tell us what's
happened."

"They've split up, sir, Grady and Mario.  Things have been rough for some
time, what with Grady's work and all the stuff Mario's coping with at the
house.  It's been real tense between them and then last night the shit
really hit the fan.  Grady came home and didn't like what Mario had been
doing arranging the furniture and stuff and he just kinda blew up.  They
had a terrible row, accusing each other of all kinds of shit.

"Grady said he was the one paying for everything and Mario was just the
gardener, and Mario said Grady only wanted him around to fuck him and that
made him feel like a cheap hustler pretending to love the big movie star.
Mario said he was leaving and Grady kinda said good riddance and there were
plenty of guys waiting to take his place and get kept by Grady like he kept
Mario."

Tears welled up in his eyes as he said, "So they've split up and Grady says
that's it ... it's over."  His tears started running down his cheeks and he
said, "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to do this but ... sir, can you do
something, sir?  Please."

Bob took a deep breath and said, "Danny, I'm sorry you've been in the
middle of this but I'm not sure if there is anything to be done yet.  In
domestic disputes like this it's always best not to intervene.  I know it
all sounds bad but the guys have to work things out for themselves.  Right
now they wouldn't listen to anything I or anyone else said anyway.  But
when they've calmed down maybe there's a chance they can work something out
– maybe a counseling session with Dr. Steve – but in the meantime we
really shouldn't interfere."

"Bullshit."  Up to now Randy had sat silently watching Danny. He loved and
admired the loyal, plucky kid and now his protective instincts sprang to
life. "Fucking bullshit," he growled again.  "Where are they now, kid?"

"Mario is with Jamie and Grady said he was coming to your gym here, sir, to
work out."

Randy stood up.  "OK, leave it to me, kid.  I'll take care of it – and
I'll take care of you too, like I always promised I would.  Don't worry
kiddo, and keep that hat on.  Your job's as safe as houses."  He turned and
stomped to the door, muttering, "Fucking bullshit."

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

Downstairs in Mark's apartment Mario was talking solemnly to Jamie when
Randy burst in without knocking.  They looked up startled and Jamie started
to speak, but Randy ignored him and went straight to Mario.  "You – come
with me."  He grabbed Mario's forearm and practically dragged him out the
door, across the garden and down the stairs to the basement gym.

Grady, stripped down to just gym shorts, was doing chin lifts and he
dropped to the floor in surprise as Randy pulled Mario in.  The two men
stood rooted to the spot without making eye contact as Randy's eyes blazed.

"OK, what the fuck kinda bullshit is this you guys are pulling?  You're
splitting up?  Like hell you are.  Everyone knows you love each other, a
blind man could see that.  And here you are at each other's throats just
because of some dumb-ass fight about where to put the fucking furniture.
It's bullshit.  What are you, still in fucking high school?"

He jabbed his finger at them.  "Now listen up you dickheads.  That kid
Danny is upstairs in tears because he loves you two, though god knows you
don't deserve him.  Now I don't want to see the boy hurt.  He's special to
Bob and me.  So here's what's gonna happen.  You're gonna cut the crap,
make up, make love and fuck.  Then, and only then, I'll let you out of here
and you go to the boy, you apologize and make things right with him.  Do I
make myself clear?"

Without waiting for a response Randy turned round, strode out of the room
and locked the door behind him, taking the key with him.

He left a stunned silence behind him. Instinctively Mario went to the door
and tried the handle but it was locked tight.  The two men stood sullenly
with their backs to each other but, surrounded by mirrors in the gym they
could not avoid catching glimpses of each other.

Grady, shirtless in gym shorts and sneakers had been working out hard to
get rid of his anger and frustrations, and his chest was heaving, his
spectacular body gleaming with sweat.  His eyes wide with confusion, he had
rarely looked more sexy.

Mario was wearing the same loose cotton pants he had been wearing when he
left the house the night before, with a pale blue linen shirt hanging loose
over his chest.  A shock of tousled black hair hanging over his handsome
Italian face, he was an icon of classic, male beauty.

They still could not bring themselves to make direct eye contact but as
they glimpsed each other in the mirrors their emotions took over and chased
from their minds all the recriminations they had been rehearsing since last
night.  They were both yearning, both resisting still.  But their male
stubbornness was crumbling and their silent standoff was nearing its end.

Suddenly Mario heard a sob and saw in the mirror the handsome muscle jock
transformed into an unhappy young boy as his body crumpled, he sank down
and slumped on a bench.  Moved almost to tears Mario at last turned to face
him as Grady said softly. "Don't leave me, buddy.  Please don't go away.  I
need you so bad ... I do."

The emotional dam had been breached and Mario sat beside Grady and took his
hand.  "Of course I won't leave you, amico.  How could I leave the guy I
love so much?  But how can you ever forgive me for everything I said?  I
can't believe I said those things.  I didn't mean a word of it – I don't
even know where the words came from.  Man, I'll do anything to ..."

"No, no, Mario it's me who's a prize shit for the way I treated you.  Of
course I didn't mean any of it either.  I can't believe I was such an
asshole.  I guess it was all the stress at the studio or ... or whatever
... it was unforgivable.  Man, I don't give a shit about the furniture or
the house, the movie, the fame or anything.  I'd give it all up in an
instant for you.  You're all I want, buddy – to live with, laugh with,
to love forever.  Buddy, when I think of all those names I called you ..."

"I don't care, mi amico, those names meant nothin, I know that.  Man, I'll
be anything you want me to be – gardener, companion, boyfriend, lover,
toy-boy..." he manage a grin ... "especially toy-boy ... that sounds hot.
I'll be a hustler, if you want, knocking on your door, come to service the
handsome movie star."

Grady's face broke into a smile, "Now that does sound hot.  We can do that.
Or, or maybe I'm feeling horny and I look out the window and jack off
watching the sexy gardener, and he sees me and comes inside and fucks my
ass.  We can do that ... we can do anything ... just as long as we're
together.  And we are, Mario, aren't we?  Together, I mean?"

"More than ever, Grady.  I just want to show you how much I love you."

"Well," Grady grinned, "as I recall we're under orders from the boss.
Remember what the big guy said we have to do?  `Cut the crap, make up, make
love and fuck.'  Well we've pretty much taken care of the first three.  How
about the last one?"

In reply Mario stood up and faced him.  Slowly he shrugged his shirt to the
back of his shoulders and let it slide off onto the floor.  He stepped out
of his Italian slide sandals, untied the string of his cotton pants and let
then drop to the ground.  He stood under the gym's spotlight, naked except
for pale blue briefs stretched over the bulge of his rigid cock.

Grady stared up at the exotic vision – the most exquisite man, his
lover, his soul mate – and he breathed, "Oh, man.  That is so fucking
beautiful.  Please, buddy.  You know what I need ... I need it so bad."  He
pulled off his shorts and lay naked on one of the gym mats, on his back,
gazing up at the handsome Italian.  He raised his knees, slid his heels
back toward him and displayed his flawless ass.

Mario was mesmerized by the sight of the naked jock, the stunning movie
star, the new Tarzan, offering himself to him.  "Magnifico," Mario sighed,
removing his briefs and letting his cock spring free.  He wet it with
saliva and fell to his knees on the mat.  He pushed Grady's knees back and,
without a pause, eased his cock slowly into his lover's ass.

Grady closed his eyes as the long cock buried itself in his ass.  When he
opened them he gazed up at his beautiful lover and said, "You're inside me,
buddy ... inside my ass.  God, I Iove you." Emotion overwhelmed him and his
tears brimmed over and rolled down his cheeks.  "I'm so sorry, Mario.
Forgive me, please ..."

"Sshh, sshh," Mario whispered as his cock caressed his ass.  "All that is
behind us, amico ... gone, finito.  Randy was right, it was all bullshit.
This is the reality, you and me, together, making love.  It's the only
thing that makes sense."

And so they made love, intense, passionate love, clinging onto it after the
scare of almost losing it, doing all they could to heal the scars of their
folly.  As he gazed up at his lover's handsome, smiling face and felt his
cock moving inside him Grady sighed deeply and released a stream of semen
over his own abs and chest.  But Mario didn't stop.  He merely smiled and
continued to fuck gently, endlessly, not wanting this moment of blissful
reconciliation to end.

Grady reached up and ran his hands over the smooth, tanned flesh of Mario's
chest, neck and face.  "I love you, buddy," he sighed again and again.  He
too wanted this to last forever, and it seemed that it did as they lost all
sense of time and place.

But, inexorably, their passion built to its climax... and at long last
overflowed.  They held each other's gaze, saw themselves reflected in each
other's eyes and sighed with exquisite relief as Grady's cock erupted again
and Mario flooded his ass with healing juice, then fell forward on him,
emotionally exhausted, and held him tight in his arms.

They lay like that for a long time, letting the anguish and bitterness of
the last few days dissolve in their renewed passion.  When at last they lay
side by side, holding hands and staring up at the ceiling, Grady said,
"Wow, life can get complicated can't it, buddy?  Here we are, the perfect
couple, and even we can fuck things up.  You think it gets any easier as
time goes by?"

"No, amico," Mario grinned, "not if you really want something.  Like the
song says, it's always pretty much `A fight for love and glory'.  Danny,
Brandon and the other boys could tell you that."

"Yeah, that poor kid, Danny ... what we put him through!  I love that guy,
and we hurt him real bad.  I wouldn't blame him if he quit – but he
won't, not a boy like that."

"No," Mario agreed.  "He's too loyal, too loving.  If it hadn't been for
him going to Randy and Bob we would still be behaving like idiots.  But
we'll make it up to him, amico.  He's part of the house, part of us.  So
now, like Randy said, we have to go to him and put things right – show
him how much we love him."

There was another silence, then Grady smiled.  "That song you just
mentioned, Mario.  I've just remembered another line from it: `The world
will always welcome lovers'.  So I'd say we're on pretty safe ground."

Mario threw back his head and laughed.  "Oh, Grady, we are all gonna have
so much fun."

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

When Randy had returned to Bob and Danny he was still muttering "bullshit"
under his breath, and didn't say too much else.  "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."

Bob stared at Randy and shook his head.  He never failed to amaze him.
"What did you say to them?" Bob asked curiously.

"Nothing much.  Just told them to snap out of it and locked them in the
gym.  They'll call soon and I'll let them out."  He grinned at Danny.  "Bob
was right, you know.  They have to work it out for themselves.  All I did
was lock them in the damn basement `til they do."  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.  He felt safer than he had ever felt 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 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?  Any other plans brewing in that
noggin of yours?"

Bob grinned, "Now that you mention it, Randy, you and I have a celebration
of our own coming up.  In a couple of weeks it'll be the anniversary of
that long-ago day we first met in that sleazy bar at the wrong end of
Hollywood Boulevard ... and then spent the night in that crummy motel.
Room 14, remember?"

"Hell yes.  We gotta celebrate, just you and me, buddy.  And I know exactly
how."

Bob became reflective.  "And just think, none of this would have happened,
there would have been no story, if I hadn't turned the wrong way on
Hollywood Boulevard.  I was driving south on the 101 headed for Mexico,
running away from my life in San Francisco.  Passing through L.A. I thought
I'd get off the freeway for a drink, a bite to eat and a few hours' sleep
before driving on.

"I didn't really know L.A. or Hollywood but I thought if I got off on
Hollywood Boulevard I'd hit the bright lights.  And I would have, too, if I
had turned right on the Boulevard at the top of the off-ramp to the
glamorous part of town.  But, as it happened, without thinking, I turned
left and found myself in sleaze-town, in a run-down bar, with a big
gypsy-looking construction worker a few stools down at the bar."

Bob smiled to himself.  "Strange how a small decision of no importance –
like which way you turn from a freeway off ramp – can change your life
forever."

That thought hung in the air for a while.  Then Randy smiled at Bob and
said softly.  "Hell, buddy, I'm sure glad you turned left."

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

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 301


Hey guys, this is Rob Williams.  I hope that chapter got you off, and I
welcome your comments and suggestions, which can be very helpful in
planning future chapters.  E-mail me in confidence at rw6789@aol.com.

ALSO, I urge you to visit my Web-site www.atrialofstrength.com. You can
read the whole story, all the many chapters, with extras, including
pictures and biographies of all the characters and some other great
artwork.  Click on the `Our Story' tab to read the current chapter, or
click on the green button to browse all the chapter synopses.  Enjoy