Date: Thu, 27 Mar 2014 02:22:45 -0400 (EDT)
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 200  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 200
By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER:
  Randy and Zack – the construction boss and the leather-master –
re-establish their supremacy.  Mark, the cop, takes steps to make Jamie
more assertive.  "Do it, boy – it feels so fucking hot."  Pablo and Ben
are rebellious and are sent to Doctor Steve for therapy.  His methods are
unorthodox – and rough.  "The boys gasped in awe and fear at the sight
of the muscular doctor stripped down to his jeans."

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

Chapter 200 – "Turning Boys Into Men"

Randy and Mark were kicking back in Mark's apartment and Randy grinned as
he shut off the phone.  "Man, seems Bob really did a number on Zack up
there in the dunes.  He's turned into such a mean mother-fucker, working
over that tough son-of-a-bitch leatherman."

Mark smiled.  "No, not mean, Randy, you know that.  Bob only did what Zack
craved from him.  You saw the way Zack was looking at Bob the other day.
Anyway, now that's over maybe you can turn your attention back to those
boys of yours.  There's trouble brewing there."

"Yeah, I know," Randy sighed and took a slug of beer.  "I separated them
`cause I saw that Pablo was becoming a bad influence on Ben – that
stupid fight and all.  But they resent filling in as houseboys and now
they're not talking to each other – some kind of weird animosity
building up – resentment, competition – something, I dunno.  They're
basically great kids but, by god, they can be a handful."

"They're just trying to be like you," Mark grinned.  "Seems like they've
succeeded a bit too well."

"Asshole," Randy grinned.  "Anyway, I'm gonna send them to my brother Steve
for some therapy – or whatever it is he calls therapy.  Maybe he can
lick them into shape.  Shit, I envy you sometimes with that boy of yours.
Jamie did a great job helping Darius break up that fight."

"Yeah," Mark said, "I love the kid to death, not to mention that gorgeous
ass of his.  But you know, buddy, he's so laid back – you know, that
surfer vibe.  I wish he could learn to be more assertive, especially with
the other boys."

"More like you, you mean."

"Well yeah, kinda.  Trouble is, I don't think he ever really recovered from
that time I caught him doing drugs with that loser and I came down real
hard on him."

"Hard?!  Man, you were gonna throw the kid out on his ass as I recall –
even threatened to remove that tattoo from his arm.  That was cold man, way
over the top – you were a mean son-of-a-bitch to the boy."

Mark flinched.  "Don't rub it in, man ... I'm not proud of it.  Sometimes I
act too much like a cop – it's bred in the bone.  But I think Mario's a
good influence on him with that mature European thing he's got going.
Anyway, I've decided to take them both up to my shack in the dunes, make a
long weekend of it.  See if I can kinda take a back seat and let Jamie take
charge."

"Should be interesting," Randy grinned.  "Take it easy though, officer.
You guys always seem to get in some kind of trouble up there."

Just then the door opened and Jamie came in.  "Oh, sorry, sir – I didn't
know you were..."  Randy stood up.  "No sweat, kid, I was just leaving."
He looked down at Jamie's round ass straining at his surfer trunks and
grinned at Mark.  "Yeah, I see what you mean.  Like I said, officer, take
care of the boy.  This too" – and he patted Jamie's ass on the way out.

Mark had just come home from his shift and had not changed out of his
police uniform before kicking back with Randy over a couple of beers.  Now
he lay back on the bed, propped up on his elbows and staring at Jamie who
glowed with that sexy look of the young Southern California surfer, with
his disheveled blond hair, smiling blue eyes, and dressed in his usual
outfit of faded surfer shorts and a loose tank top over his lithe, athletic
body.

Mark's cock was growing visibly hard under his uniform pants and he said,
"Well, you heard what the man said, boy.  What you gonna do about it?"

"Sorry, sir," Jamie said, kicking off his sneakers and pulling his tank top
off over his head.  He stood still, letting Mark admire him, stripped down
to just his board shorts.  Jamie knew exactly how to excite his Greek-God
master.  He also knew how horny the cop always felt after eight hours
astride that throbbing bike, and Jamie smiled at the growing bulge in his
uniform pants.

"God, that's beautiful," Mark sighed.  "Turn around, kid."  Jamie turned
his back to Mark, thrust his hands in the pockets of his shorts and pushed
them forward, stretching the faded fabric over the perfect mounds of his
ass as he flared his lats.  "Holy shit," Mark moaned softly.  Then Jamie
loosened the drawstring of his shorts, pushed them slowly down over his
ass-cheeks and let them drop.  Mark was mesmerized by the round white
globes, the sharp tan lines separating the ass from the golden brown of his
naked body.

The cop stopped rubbing the bulge in his pants to stop from losing his
load.  Still with his back turned, Jamie continued his usual evening ritual
and lifted one of the cop's boots between his legs, pressing it up against
his balls.  Mark raised his other boot and pushed the foot against one of
the white mounds of the naked boy's ass.  He pushed hard, the boot slowly
slid loose and Jamie stumbled forward as the boot came off.  The same
ritual was followed for the other boot, and Mark said, "You're driving me
crazy, boy.  Come up here."

Instead of getting up to fuck Jamie as he usually did Mark lay back on the
bed, his hands linked behind his head.  Jamie got on the bed and knelt
astride him, his ass sitting firmly on the cop's bulge, feeling the rough
serge of the pants against his bare cheeks.  He flashed a smile at Mark,
leaned forward and slowly began to unbutton his black uniform shirt.  When
it was open to the waist he pulled it apart and stroked his palms over the
white T-shirt underneath, feeling the rounded pecs flex under his touch.

Jamie wriggled his butt on the bulge of the pants, feeling the rock-hard
outline of Mark's cock under his ass.  At the same time he rubbed the backs
of his fingers against the shirt right over the shape of the cop's nipples.
"Oh, man," Mark groaned.  "yeah, work `em, boy."  Jamie squeezed the hard
nipples through the T-shirt as Mark gazed up at him and ran his hands over
Jamie's chest, settling on the boy's tits, squeezing them as Jamie was
doing to him.

Gazing into each other's eyes they rolled each other's nipples harder
between their fingers while Jamie rubbed his ass back and forth over Mark's
crotch, driving Mark wild.  The cop threw his arms upward on the bed and
grabbed the rail of the headboard.  Jamie worked the tits harder and gazed
in awe at the cop's biceps bulging below his short sleeves as he pulled on
the rail as if he were tied to it.

Mark's handsome face thrashed from side to side and he moaned, "Shit, that
feels so fucking hot."  He stared up at his beautiful, naked boy, his young
muscles rippling as he moved his body erotically on top of him, grinding
his ass on the cock pulsing in his pants.  "Yeah," Mark moaned, "come on,
work it, boy, punish those tits, work that sweet ass over my cock."
Suddenly he inhaled sharply.  "Man, it feels so hot... I can't take it
... you're making me ... aaagh! ..." and he creamed his pants with streams
of hot jism.

Mesmerized, Jamie stared at the handsome blond cop bucking beneath him,
gripping the bed hard as he emptied his load in his pants.  Jamie's ass
felt the sticky dampness of the pants as cum oozed through the fabric.
Jamie leaned forward and braced himself with his hands on the bed beside
Mark's face.  "You are so beautiful, sir.  I love you like crazy."

He fell onto Mark's body, chest against chest, and felt his cock press
against the buckle of the heavy police belt.  He ground his cock against
the leather, gazed into Mark's blue-gray eyes and said, "I love you, sir."
His lips met Mark's, their mouths opened and they shared the same breath
back and forth as Jamie uttered a stifled moan and his cock erupted between
their bodies, semen streaming up onto Mark's T-shirt.  The cop folded his
arms round his boy and squeezed him tight.

After their heartbeats slowed Mark rolled Jamie off him and they lay on
their sides, staring into each other's eyes.  "That was real special,
Jamie," Mark said, "and you know why?  It's because you were in control –
on top.  I was just saying to Randy that it's a big turn on for me to see
my boy take command, assert himself.  And that gave me an idea.  What would
you say if I took you and Mario up to the shack in the dunes?  It's your
shack now, of course, so I guess I should really ask if you would invite us
to stay."

Jamie's eyes shone mischievously.  "Hmm, I'll have to think about it."  He
grinned ... "OK, I've thought about it and you're invited.  You want me to
take charge, so I will.  I'll plan all the activities, and that includes
teaching Mario to surf.  He didn't do much of that in Europe – only a
bit down in Laguna.  I'll take you both to dinner too..."  Then he curbed
his enthusiasm and added modestly, "...if that's OK with you, sir."

"Sounds perfect, kiddo.  Shit, even your take-charge tone of voice makes me
hard.  But before you become the big boss-man you gotta help me off with
this cum-soaked T-shirt and throw it in the laundry for Pablo and Ben to
wash.  Or, add it to my other stinking shirts you've got stashed away that
you jack off over."  Jamie grinned bashfully and blushed.

"By the way," Mark asked, "how are those two boys coping with filling in as
houseboys while Nate and Eddie are off sick?"

"Not well at all, sir.  They see it as a big come-down – them being
Randy's son and brother.  They're feeling bad about the big fight but I
think in a way they blame each other.  Pablo was showing off to Ben and Ben
was influenced by all that macho stuff.  Anyway, they're not talking to
each other much right now.  Not sure what's gonna happen."

"Therapy – that's what's gonna happen.  Randy's gonna send them to
Doctor Steve to see if he can sort them out.  Steve's methods can get
pretty weird but he gets the job done.  Now, how about helping me off with
this uniform, then we'll jump in the shower and you can take charge again –
show me how aggressive you can be."

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

The next day Bob and Zack came home from the dunes.  Zack had already had a
long phone conversation with his boy Darius, but he might as well have used
a public address system because by the time they came in every detail of
what had happened was all over the house.  Gathered over drinks after work
the group stared in awe as the guys walked through the gate.

Zack was in jeans and a black tank-top that did little to hide the whip
marks on his arms and shoulders.  In fact he flaunted them as a badge of
honor.  Bob was still wearing the black jeans, boots and old torn black
T-shirt Zack had lent him.  With his stubbled face and macho strut it was
the rugged look that had turned Zack on so much he had jacked off a huge
load just looking at him.  And now there wasn't a limp dick in the crowd –
including Randy's massive hard-on.

Ignoring everyone else Randy stood up from the table and said, "Hey, buddy,
welcome back.  Come upstairs.  He threw his arm round Bob's neck and pushed
him toward the house.

"That goes for you too, boy," Zack said to Darius.  "Come across the street
to my house and help me get cleaned up."

Zack and Randy both knew what they wanted.  Zack had willingly submitted to
being bound, whipped and fucked by Bob, the leather-stud he lusted for, but
now he needed to re-assert his role as master, and who better to do that
with than Darius, the newly dominant young black buck who now led the boys.

Randy had heard with pride how Bob had worked Zack over, had overwhelmed
the macho leather-master and made him submit to the beautiful and powerful
Superman.  Now there was only one thing Randy wanted to do ... he had to.
His cock demanded it.

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

Upstairs in the master bedroom Randy faced Bob.  "So," Randy grinned,
"you're the big new boss around town, eh?  Guess you're gonna tie me up and
whip me like you did Zack."

Bob smiled.  "Sounds like a plan."

"'Course," Randy shrugged, "on the other hand I could just throw the new
boss on the bed and fuck the shit out of him."

"Sounds like a better plan," Bob grinned.

Randy pressed his hand in Bob's chest and pushed him hard onto the bed.  He
looked down at the rugged alpha stud lying on his back, his arms flung
upward, his T-shirt's torn sleeves pushed up so high it looked like a
sleeveless shirt.  Randy moaned, "Shit, man, that looks so damn hot.  Let's
see now."  He reached down to the frayed neck of the shirt and ripped a few
inches down the middle.  He stepped back and grinned, "Yeah, even better.
So you're the macho stud who topped the big leather master.  Now look at
you – your ripped T-shirt, gorgeous stubbled face – waiting for
this."

Randy pulled off his tank top, ripped open his pants, pulled out his
beer-can-thick cock and stroked it.  "You may be the big top-man around
here, stud, but you know where this is going?"

"Yeah – in my ass," said Bob, his body trembling with desire.  "Damn
right," Randy growled.  "Just so you remember who the real boss is in this
house."  Springing into action he ripped open Bob's jeans and pulled them
down over his ass.  He knelt on the bed grabbed one of Bob's boots and
pushed his leg up high, the other splayed on the bed, his ass exposed.
Randy pressed his cock between the cheeks and growled, "Here it comes, big
guy."

The massive cock plunged inside Bob's ass.  He winced but stared defiantly
into Randy's eyes.  Bob had long ago learned to endure Randy's classic
power fuck and the pain quickly faded into a unique sensation on the fine
line between agony and ecstasy.  Randy's blue eyes penetrated his as his
cock pistoned inside him.  He pushed Bob's leg further back and with his
free hand grabbed the ripped neck of his shirt and pulled Bob's head and
shoulders forward off the bed.

With his upper torso hanging from the shirt in Randy's fist Bob stretched
his arms out on the bed and gazed up at the wild, shirtless gypsy, his abs
flexing as they slammed forward, his bicep bulging as he held Bob suspended
from his shirt.  Bob moaned, "You're incredible man.  Fuck my ass ... fuck
it hard, sir."

Randy redoubled the pace of the ferocious fuck, and each thrust of his cock
jerked Bob's body back to the sound of ripping cloth.  The shirt was taking
a pounding along with Bob's ass and as the pile-driver slammed into him the
shirt ripped more and more.  Randy gloated.  "Not the big boss now, are
you, stud?  That gorgeous body is mine – your ass is mine.  You can make
other guys submit to you, even Zack, but not me.  Even a tough muscle-stud
like you meets his match and submits to his master.  Let me hear the big
tough Superman beg...!"

"Yes, sir.  You're my master – my ass is yours.  Please, sir, cum in my
ass.  Please....."

Randy pulled his cock all the way back then pierced his lover with one last
savage thrust.  The T-shirt finally ripped in two and came off in Randy's
fist, releasing Bob who fell back on the bed.  His face thrashed wildly and
he screamed as he felt Randy's hot cum streaming into his ass.

The dark demon's chest heaved as he stared down at him, the sweat from his
chest dripping down onto the exhausted man.  Randy tied the shredded
remains of the shirt loosely round his own neck, much as Bob had done with
Zack's torn shirt, a trophy of dominance.  The picture of the savage gypsy
was complete and Bob shuddered at the spectacular sight.

Randy hooked both of Bob's legs over his shoulders and fell forward,
pinning his wrists to the bed above his head.  His eyes blazed down at him
as he growled, "And now, mother fucker, you're gonna shoot your load for
me.  I can make you do anything ... like this.  On a count of three, man."
Again he pulled his hips back, then slammed his cock into the depths of
Bob's ass and let it rest there.  "That was one."

His cock withdrew, then slammed in again, making Bob howl.  "That was two,"
Randy gloated.  "OK, here it comes, buddy ... this one's because I love
you."  He pulled back one last time, paused, then shouted, "Three," as he
drove his cock in deep, over the inner sphincter and it came to rest in the
cauldron of the deepest chamber of Bob's ass.

"Aaaagh...!"  Bob's scream echoed round the room as his cock reared up and
blasted a ribbon of cum that arced high and splashed against Randy's chest,
then another even higher that slammed into the swarthy face.  He howled
again as Randy suddenly pulled his dick out, then fell forward, wrapped his
arms round Bob and kissed him voraciously.

Their hearts thumped against each other as they kissed and ground their
stubbled faces together.  Finally Randy rolled off Bob and lay beside him.
As their breathing subsided Randy turned his face to Bob's and grinned.
"Un-fucking-believable man.  You look so fucking hot in Zack's clothes.
Like I said, there's not a man who can master you – except me, buddy.
Shit, you must have done a number on Zack.  Tell me about it – all the
details.  Spill the beans, man."

"You know," Bob laughed, "you're starting to sound just like Darius."

"Yeah, I should have damn well made that boy follow you up there with his
camera, told him to film the whole thing.  And as he would say, that movie
would definitely have been..."

"... one for prosperity!"  they chanted in unison and collapsed laughing in
each other's arms.

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

As it happened, at that very moment, Darius was doing his best to restore
Zack's confidence in his own manhood, which had taken a beating when he had
offered himself up to be whipped by Bob.  Now in Zack's house, master and
boy stood facing each other.

Zack reached behind his own neck and pulled up on his tank that slid slowly
upward, and an awestruck Darius gazed in turn at the sculpted abs, chest
and arms, all striped by the marks of the whip.  Zack threw the shirt to
the floor and Darius reached forward to touch the muscular black torso, his
fingers gently tracing the long lines crisscrossing it, evidence of the
brutal lash.

"You look so hot, sir," the boy breathed, then leaned forward, his tongue
replacing his finger, licking the whip-marks slowly over his master's
gleaming body.  Far from making Zack look diminished by the dominance of
another master, the whip marks were a sign to Darius of his master's
strength and endurance, and his cock grew hard as he imagined Zack's
powerful body writhing under the lash.

He kissed the striped flesh, licking between the pecs then down over the
washboard abs to the waistband of his black jeans.  Resting his hands on
the slim hips he sank to his knees before his master.  He pulled open
Zack's jeans and watched the long black rod spring out, hard as steel.
Darius licked the sweaty balls, then sucked the head of the cock into his
mouth and pushed his face forward, letting the cock slide inside him until
his face was buried in the wiry, black pubic hair, moist with crotch-sweat.

He heard Zack moan, felt the big hand grab the back of his head and pull it
back off the cock.  Zack said, "Now make me feel good.  Suck it hard, boy
... like this ..." and he yanked the head forward, forcing his shaft deep
into Darius's throat, making him choke.  As the monster cock filled his
mouth Darius breathed desperately through his nose which was buried in the
wet pubic hair ... the boy felt he was drowning in the stink of Zack's
crotch.

Suddenly Zack pulled his cock out and Darius gazed up at the shirtless
muscle-god, his monster cock slapping his face from side to side.  "You
want more, boy?  You wanna feel your master's pole busting a load deep in
your throat?"

"Yes, sir ... please, sir," Darius gulped, and the ferocious face-fuck
continued.  Zack was massively turned on knowing that the boy was such a
tough young buck, leader of the boys, and yet here he was, on his knees
getting his face pounded by his master.  "Here it comes, boy," he yelled at
last.  The smell and taste of the pile-driving black rod intoxicated the
boy, tears ran down his face, and he was on the verge of passing out when
the cock swelled in his mouth and pumped a river of pungent juice that
Darius gulped down frantically.

He swallowed desperately, choking on the semen that poured into him.  When
the cock was drained Zack pulled out, took a few steps back, folded his
arms across his chest and gazed down at the boy, his mouth sagging open,
cum running down his chin and tears down his face.  "That's my boy," Zack
growled.  "Now ... cum for your master."

That didn't take long.  Darius had already held back from creaming his
pants and when he pulled out his stiff ten-inch dick it was oozing pre-cum.
He stared up at the spectacular leather-master, stripped to the waist, arms
crossed over his muscled chest and, in an act of worship, Darius stroked
his cock and yelled, "I love you, sir."  A plume of jism shot from his
cock, hung in the air, then splashed down on his master's boots, stream
after stream until the boots were smothered in jism, a tribute from his
boy.

The hot young black stud fell on his stomach, reached forward, grabbed one
of Zack's legs and dragged himself forward over the ground.  He lowered his
mouth to the boots and lapped at them hungrily, sucking up his own juice,
licking the black boots until they were sparkling clean.  He reached up,
grabbed Zack's thigh and pulled himself up on his knees.

Zack linked his hands behind his own head, his elbows out to the side and
flared his lats in a bodybuilder pose.  Darius raised his arms and ran his
hands over the eight-pack abs then over the slabs of Zack's chest, feeling
again the raised stripes of the whip.  Zack's face broke into a gleaming
smile, he put his hands under his boy's armpits and pulled him to his feet
facing him.

"That's just what I needed, kid.  You're the perfect boy for me – a
tough young alpha stud submitting to no-one but me, your master.  You like
the look of that whipped body, eh?"

"Oh wow, you've never looked hotter, sir," Darius said.  "I just wish I had
been in the dunes with my camera.  What a video!"  Zack grinned, "One for
prosperity, eh?"

"You said it, sir."

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

And so the pendulum that had lately been swinging so wildly in the house
finally slowed and came almost to a rest – almost.  There was just one
piece of unfinished business, which came to a head at the end of the week.
The houseboys, Nate and Eddie, would soon be back at work after Nate took
off his neck brace and Eddie the sling on his arm, both unwelcome mementos
of the attack by Pablo and Ben.  In the meantime, at Randy's order, Pablo
and Ben had been filling in as houseboys, a demeaning task for two cocky
boys who prided themselves on being Randy's son and brother.

But Randy was wary of letting the boys work together as Pablo had proved to
be a poor example for the inexperienced Ben, teaching him how to fight and
little else.  So he had separated them on the construction site and had
decreed that Ben would work in the house in the mornings and Pablo in the
afternoon.  But in a way their separation had backfired, driving a wedge
between them.  As Randy had explained earlier to Mark, "They resent filling
in as houseboys and now they're not talking to each other – some kind of
weird animosity building up – resentment, competition – I dunno."

By week's end the situation had worsened to the point where a clash was
inevitable.  And it came, as domestic conflicts so often do, over something
petty.  While the twins were busy in the kitchen preparing food for the
evening meal, Ben had just finished tidying up when Pablo came in to take
over.  They didn't speak or make eye contact, as was usually the case now,
and Pablo opened the dishwasher to put some plates in that the twins had
been using.

"What the fuck's this?" Pablo said.  "Hey, asshole, you didn't empty the
dishwasher like you're s'posed to."  Ben bristled.  "Oh yeah?  Who says I
am?  You're not my boss anymore.  You're not anyone's boss now that Darius
took over."  He had struck a nerve and the resentment that had been
building for over a week erupted.

Pablo lunged at Ben and shoved him against the counter, sending the pile of
dirty plates crashing to the floor.  Instantly the boys were grappling,
trading punches, causing havoc in the kitchen.  The twins rushed forward
and tried to separate them, getting thrown against the wall for their
efforts.  The place was getting trashed as the fight intensified.

"What the fuck?" boomed a deep voice, making everyone freeze.  Randy had
come home to go over the budget with Jamie, but on his way up to the office
he had heard the racket coming from the kitchen and now he loomed in the
doorway, an intimidating figure in his grubby work pants and old, greasy
tank-top.  "What the fuck's going on here?  Speak!"

The boys gulped and Pablo found his voice first.  "Sir, it's just that Ben
hadn't emptied the dishwasher like he's s`posed to."  Even as the words
came out the boy realized how lame they sounded.  Ben glared at Pablo.  "He
can't make me do that.  It's his job to ...."

"Enough!" Randy roared.  "Jesus Christ, you sound like a couple of girls
squabbling over whose turn it is to do the dishes.  Fuck, is that what you
two have come to?"  He turned and paced the room, running his hand through
his hair in frustration.  He faced them again and raised his arms in a
helpless gesture of surrender.  "That's it – I give up – I can't
handle you two anymore.  You're running wild.  I thought you respected my
authority but apparently not."

He paced some more, then said, "OK, the only thing left is my brother
Steve.  Maybe the shrink can get through to you.  And make no mistake, I'll
tell him he can do anything to you young punks to whip you into shape –
anything.  I'll see if he can take you after he's finished work today.  In
the meantime, you can clean up in here, then you Ben get back to the site,
and Pablo, carry on cleaning the house.

He turned away in disgust and left the room shaking his head – "Holy
fucking shit,"

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

Way up on Mulholland Drive, when Steve got home from work his lover Lloyd
had already made martinis and they sat sipping them by the pool facing the
panoramic view of the city spread far below them.  It was something of an
evening ritual between the two successful professionals, architect and
psychologist – drinks, sex, dinner and a Netflix movie.  But now Steve
sighed.

"Sorry, buddy, but the rest will have to wait a while.  I've promised to
see Randy's boys up here.  I wouldn't have, but he sounded desperate, at
the end of his wits.  Apparently the boys had been acting up – fighting
again – trashed the kitchen this time apparently."  He grinned.  "My
guess is they're both just acting like he does.  Two junior Randys – can
you imagine?"

Lloyd laughed.  "No sweat, Steve.  I've got some blueprints to go over.
And the wait will make me even more horny ..." he grinned lasciviously
"... more receptive, so to speak."

Steve smiled, "Hold that thought, buddy," and went into the house.  He
changed out of his business suit and pulled on jeans and a pale blue Polo
shirt, in the hope that a more casual outfit would help the boys relax.
But that proved to be harder than he anticipated.  He was sitting in his
office when the doorbell rang and he heard Lloyd's voice.  "Hey, Ben, good
to see you again.  Yeah, he's in his office – straight through on the
right."

Ben tapped on the door and came in looking nervous.  He always found Doctor
Steve a bit intimidating, though he still tingled when he thought of their
first session together soon after he arrived in California – a
doctor/patient fantasy that he still beat off to.  A one-on-one with the
handsome doc would have been great, but now Pablo would be there too, which
he resented.

"Ben," Steve smiled, looking up from behind his desk.  He didn't see his
little brother that often and whenever he did he was startled by his looks,
the dark haired, blue-eyed gypsy boy, a clone of Randy, only a younger
version.  He had obviously showered and changed after work into clean cargo
shorts and a white T-shirt that set off his tanned face.

"Good to see you, little brother."  Steve came round from behind his desk
and gave Ben a tight hug.  As Ben felt the muscular body under the Polo
shirt pressing against him he felt his cock stiffen, despite his resentment
at being here in the first place.  The gorgeous Steve looked so much like
Randy that he couldn't help being turned on.  Steve pulled away and said,
"OK, Ben, take a seat on the couch there – Pablo not with you?"

"No sir, we don't drive together anymore ... I mean ... he's coming in his
own truck, sir."  So much for togetherness, Steve thought.  The separation
seemed to be complete.  Just then they heard a car drive up, signaling
Pablo's arrival.  He came into the room without knocking with a surly look
on his face.  He clearly hadn't changed from his grubby work clothes, a
small sign of defiance, Steve guessed.

"Ah, Pablo," Steve smiled.  "Take a seat beside Ben."  Ben was at the far
end of the couch and Pablo sat at the other end, as far away as possible,
pressing against the arm in an attempt to distance himself even further.
Well, Steve thought, as of now we're batting zero.  "Right," he smiled,
"now Randy has filled me in on some of the problems but I'd like to hear
what you have to say.  Pablo?

Pablo pouted sullenly.  "All I have to say is that I don't wanna be here.
I wanna be home with my dad.  He emphasized the last word for Ben's benefit
... being Randy's son trumped being his brother.  But Ben was having none
of that.  "Well I'm his brother – always have been since I was born."
Unable to deny that clumsy piece of logic Pablo glared at Ben, and Steve
quickly interjected, "Well, by my reckoning, Ben, that would make you
Pablo's uncle."

His attempt at humor worked, taking the wind out of their sails.  "Anyway,"
said Ben, "I want to go home to my master – the fireman," stressing the
last word in an act of one-upmanship."

"Of course," Steve said, "I did clear this meeting with Jason, and he
approved."  He could see this was going nowhere so he tried a different
tack.  "Ben, as I recall from one of our earlier sessions, soon after you
and Pablo met you were best buddies.  You told me you loved him and thought
of yourself as his boy."

"Yeah, but a lot of water's flowed under the bridge since then."  Ben's
tone became wistful.  "At first I looked up to him and he took care of me
and taught me a lot about mechanics and stuff.  I thought he loved me too,
and he promised to always take care of me.  But then I became Jason's boy
and, I dunno, I guess he kind of got jealous."

 "That's fucking bullshit – jealous of a kid like you?" Pablo snarled
and clenched his fists.  Steve could see that the heat was rising but he
decided to let things run their course.

"See that?" Ben bristled, his wistfulness all gone.  "He's become an
asshole and he looked down at me `cause I couldn't fight as good as him.
He said we had to defend Randy and fight those guys and I ended up hurting
Nate real bad, and he broke Eddie's arm, and now we have to work as
houseboys, and... and he's a bad influence on me – I heard Randy say so
to Bob."

"He did not," shouted Pablo, and they both stood up.  "Take that back, boy,
or I'll ..."  "You'll what?" snarled Ben, "break my arm like you did to
that poor kid Eddie?  Try me, asshole."

"Fuck you, man," Pablo yelled and hurled himself at Ben.  They fell against
the couch that tipped over and sent them struggling on the floor, rolling
over trading punches and shouting obscenities.  Steve looked on calmly, a
plan forming in his mind.  He could see they were not doing any real damage
to each other and he had a sense that they were instinctively putting on a
show for him, proving to Randy's brother how tough they were.

But the fight was starting to get out of hand, with the sound of shirts
ripping, and Steve was about to make a move when – suddenly he didn't
have to.  On their feet, straining against each other they fell against a
book case, and a big ornamental vase on the top shook and toppled forward,
crashing to the ground with a deafening sound of shattered china.

Everything stopped.  On their knees amid the shattered porcelain shards the
boys stared up in fear as Steve towered over them.  There was a knock on
the door and Lloyd's voice said, "Everything OK in there, guys?"  Steve
said calmly, "Nothing I can't handle, buddy.  Thanks."

It was Steve's steely composure that scared the boys most.  Randy would
have waded into them, fists flying, but his brother now eyed them with the
cold look of a professional deciding what to do with them.  "Sit down," he
said evenly.  They righted the couch and sat back on it, but closer
together this time for moral support, a fact that didn't escape Steve's
notice – progress at last.  He assumed an attitude of cold anger.

"The bill for the vase will go to Randy with an explanation of how it got
broken.  As for you two ... I don't know how much you get away with in that
house or how far they let you go, but you're dealing with me now.  I may be
a professional shrink, but I have a very short fuse – and it just burned
to the end.  Apparently you trashed the kitchen at home and now you've
trashed my office.  And now you'll pay."

"I remember the first time Randy came into my office, out to prove he
wasn't my brother.  He threw me over the desk and raped my ass – pounded
it mercilessly – the worst pain I ever felt.  I learned later that his
brutal fucks were legendary – his chosen form of punishment.  Well I'm
not his brother for nothing."  Steve pulled his shirt off over his head and
the boys gasped in awe and fear at the sight of the muscular doctor
stripped down to his jeans.

"Randy and I are alike in many ways.  We both have huge cocks and we know
how to use them – but there's a difference."  His voice became menacing
... the boys had never seen Steve like this and it scared them.  "See,
Randy's a master fuck ... he can sense a man's limits and knows when to
hold back.  But I'm not as good as him.  I'm not good at judging limits and
there's always a danger I'll split a guy`s ass wide open.  But we'll just
have to take that chance.  I'm a doctor and I can get away with a lot of
crap.  OK, so who's first?"

The boys edged closer together on the couch, their bodies touching.
Another good sign, Steve thought ... so far so good.  "Right.  Ben, stand
up."  Ben jumped to his feet, his heart pounding with fear, as Steve
positioned a chair with its back to the couch, opposite Pablo who remained
seated.  "Kneel here."  Steve guided Ben to the chair and he knelt on the
seat facing backward.  His chest was pressed against the chair's back, his
arms wrapped round it, his face level with Pablo sitting on the couch.

Steve stood behind him admiring the shape of Ben's ass bulging against his
shorts.  "Oh yeah, I'm gonna enjoy working on that ass," Steve said.
"Let's take a closer look."  He pulled Ben's shorts down over his ass and
stroked the bare cheeks, pushing his finger into the moist hole.  Ben
looked back over his shoulder and said desperately.  "Please, sir, I only
get fucked by Jason, and he's always real gentle with me."

"Yeah, well Jason's a good, gentle guy.  But this is me now, boy, and I'm
not so gentle – once you get to know me."  He leaned forward and grabbed
the boy's hips, gazing down at the upraised ass.  He pushed the head of his
cock between the cheeks, then in one savage move plunged his cock fast and
deep into the boy's ass.  Ben howled as the cock pulled back and plunged in
again, even deeper.  Pain radiated from Ben's ass all through his body as
he hugged the chairback tight and bit into the padded top.

Steve disliked causing the boy pain and hoped it would be short and swift.
As he pounded the young ass with his huge cock, as massive as Randy's,
Ben's tear-filled eyes stared at Pablo, who was watching in horror.
"Aaaagh," Ben yelled ... "it hurts so bad, dude ... help me ... you said
you'd take care of me ..." and the tears started to flow down his cheeks.

The strongest instinct Pablo had inherited from Randy was the big man's
protection of his brothers, and later the boys in his house.  That impulse
overwhelmed Pablo now and he looked up at Steve.  "No!..... please, sir
... don't hurt him.  Please, sir, stop fucking him, sir ... please... he's
my friend ..."

"Too late for that, kid," Steve growled.  "He's gotta get punished
... gotta get ass-fucked, and there's no-one here to do that except me.  I
sure can't trust you to do it."

Seized by fear and pity for the young gypsy boy Pablo pleaded, "We don't
fuck, sir, not since the one time when we first met ..."

"OK," Steve said, "so he's all mine."  He thrust his hips harder and Ben
screamed in pain, his wide eyes staring desperately at Pablo.  "OK, OK,
sir," Pablo shouted.  "Let me, sir.  I'll fuck him, sir ... I'll do it real
hard.  Please, sir ... please stop and let me fuck him."

That's what Steve was waiting to hear.  He pulled his cock out and Ben
gasped with relief.  "OK," Steve said.  "Ben, get naked and lie on your
back on the fur rug here – quick, boy."  Ben scrambled off the chair,
quickly pulled off his T-shirt, kicked off his sneakers and dropped his
shorts.  Naked, he eased himself down on the rug, his ass still aching.

"OK, Pablo.  His ass is still mighty sore but you gotta fuck it.  Do it,
boy!"  Pablo took off his shirt, dropped his pants and knelt between Ben's
legs.  Ben looked up at him with fear in his eyes.  "It hurts so bad, sir.
My ass hurts bad."  Pablo smiled down at him.  "Don't worry, kid, I'll take
care of it.  I promised I'd take care of you."

Pablo pushed Ben's legs up and, with extreme care, pressed his cock against
Ben's hole and eased it very slowly inside him.  Whenever Ben flinched
Pablo stopped for a moment, then eased in again.  "Just relax, Ben and I'll
make the pain go away.  Trust me, dude ... look at me."  Ben locked his
eyes on Pablo's and gradually surrendered his body to him.  Pablo was using
all the skill he had to give the tenderest fuck of his life, slowly
massaging the inflamed membrane with his gently sliding cock.

"Feel better yet, kid?" he asked softly.  "Yes, sir – thank you, sir.
The pain's going away – your cock feels good inside me."

Steve stood at a distance smiling quietly.  He had hated hurting Ben but it
was the only way.  In fact, he had taken his cue from his big brother.  He
had seen Randy savagely punish a misbehaving boy but, if ever that same boy
were being hurt by someone else, Randy's powerful protective instinct took
over and he roared in like a lion to protect the boy.  Steve knew that
Pablo copied Randy in everything – and this time was no exception.

As the fuck became loving Ben gazed up with something close to adoration
and saw the same handsome young stud he had first met, and had later asked
to become his boy.  All the rest – the resentment that had since crowded
in – faded away.  Sighing with relief Ben said, "Sir, all that stuff I
said to you – I didn't mean any of it."

"Me neither, dude.  It's that temper of ours – that old Randy-rage."  By
now Pablo was able to push his cock deep into Ben's warm, welcoming ass, to
Ben's moans of pleasure, not pain.  As he fucked, Pablo said, "But you were
right about one thing, kid.  I have been a bad influence.  I'll do better
in future.  Hey, you wanna shoot a load for me, buddy?"

"Yes please, sir," Ben grinned.  Pablo braced himself forward on one arm,
his hand pressed on the floor beside Ben.  With his other hand he stroked
Ben's cock, feeling it pulse each time his cock touched the back of his
ass.  "Let's do it together, eh, kid?  Show that we're good buddies again?"
Ben nodded and Pablo took full control as a wave of protectiveness swept
over him.  It felt good to take care of a kid like this – made him feel
like a man.

He slowly increased the rhythm of his fuck and his stroking of Ben's cock.
"OK, dude, here we go – let's do it, kiddo – friends again."  They
both moaned loudly as Pablo felt his cock pour hot juice in Ben's ass and
saw the boy's cock shudder and shoot ribbons of cum over his own naked
chest.  Ben gazed up and said, "Thank you, sir."  Pablo fell forward and
kissed Ben, their bodies sliding on the creamy cum as their cocks continued
to pump juice.

They were still kissing when they felt warm liquid splashing down on them.
They separated and looked up at the glorious sight of the shirtless doctor,
the muscles of his spectacular body rippling as he beat his meat, cumming
all over them.  They stared at Steve in awe, and Pablo said to Ben.  "You
got any left, dude?"  Ben grinned, "For the doc, sure," and both boys shot
a final stream of jism as they opened their mouths and drank the doc's
juice.

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

"That was my seal of approval on you boys," Steve grinned.  "Good job –
a very successful session."  He was back to being the doctor again.  He
stuffed his cock back in his jeans and pulled on his shirt.  He tossed a
towel to the boys but they preferred to pull on their shirts over their
cum-covered chests.  In a few minutes they were sitting facing the doc like
before – only this time shoulder to shoulder on the couch.

"OK, full disclosure," said Steve, all business again.  "One thing I told
you was incorrect – that thing about telling Randy what happened.
Everything that went on here is protected by doctor/patient
confidentiality, so I can't tell Randy or Jason without your permission."

"Oh, no sweat, doc," Pablo said.  "Me and Ben will tell Darius – he'll
squeeze it out us – and once we do that, confidentiality is pretty much
shot.  It'll be all over the house in ten minutes."

"Got it," Steve grinned.  "Well in that case I feel free to recommend to
Randy that you two start working together again – chief mechanic and his
assistant – if that's what you want."

"Fuck yes," Ben blurted out, then blushed and said, "Sorry, sir – I mean
`yes please', sir."

"Right," Steve smiled.  "Hang on a minute."  He left the room briefly, then
came back and sat down.  "Now, I just checked with Lloyd and we were
thinking of asking you boys to join us for dinner."  Their eyes sparkled
but then dimmed as Steve added, "However, that would be a breach of the
doctor/patient relationship."  They frowned in disappointment – but
Steve was playing with them.  "On the other hand, since I am Ben's brother
and Pablo's uncle, there would be no such restriction there, so ... how
would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Yes please, sir," they said in unison.

"There's one other thing.  Before dinner Lloyd and I usually go into the
bedroom and make love."  There was a silence as he stroked his chin and the
boys perched expectantly on the edge of the couch.  Steve shrugged.
"'Course, you boys already got a lesson in making love, so another one
wouldn't hurt.  So you could always come into the bedroom and watch us –
if you don't mind the delay in dinner."

They rushed to reassure him.  "We don't mind, sir," said Pablo.  "Not at
all, sir," Ben agreed.  The thought of watching these two gorgeous men
fuck, the doctor and the architect, and then having dinner with them, was a
huge turn-on and their cocks were already hard again.

"Right, that's settled," Steve said.  "Pablo, you should phone Randy, and
Ben you call Jason, to get their permission and we're all set."  He rubbed
his hands together and said, "Like I said, a very productive session –
we accomplished a lot, don't you think?  Randy will be pleased."

"Absolutely, sir," they said in unison.  Then Pablo asked, "Sir, would it
be OK if we left Ben's truck up here when we go home later?  We want to
drive back together."

Bingo, Steve thought.  "Oh, I don't think that would be a problem ... no
problem at all."

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

And so Pablo had taken a few more steps on the road to becoming a man, the
senior boy he had always boasted of being, without much justification given
his immaturity.  Darius had recently taken similar steps to manhood, having
brought order to the chaos of the boys' fight, where he had exhibited all
the signs of leadership.

Mark, the authoritative cop, not unnaturally, wanted to nudge his boy Jamie
in the same direction.  Jamie was the third of the most senior boys but he
was still content just being a laid-back young surfer – California
mellow.  Mark encouraged Jamie's friendship with Mario, the sophisticated,
self assured Italian boy, but he wanted Jamie to shed his remaining
insecurities, to assert himself and assume his rightful place as one of the
senior in-charge boys.

To this end Mark had proposed a trip to the same Guadalupe dunes where Bob
and Zack had recently indulged in their macho sex games.  Some time ago
Mark had made a gift of his own shack up there to Jamie, and now he made
clear that Jamie would be the host to him and Mario.  And so, a few days
later, they had loaded the rowboat onto Mark's big truck along with the
rest of their gear and were on their way north along the coast.

Easing Jamie into a leadership role right away Mark had pleaded tiredness
after back-to-back shifts and asked Jamie to drive.  So now Jamie sat
proudly behind the wheel of the big truck, with Mario beside him.  The cop
was content to doze in the passenger seat, listening with amusement to the
boys' surfer talk.  Now there Jamie was an expert and naturally assumed the
role of guide and mentor.

Beyond that Mark's thoughts drifted and he had no firm idea how to help
Jamie take charge – but as it turned out he didn't have to.  Fate
stepped in and thrust Jamie into a situation where his leadership qualities
would be sorely tested, ending in either catastrophe or triumph – and
maybe even a reward from a proud cop.

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

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 201

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!