Date: Wed, 16 Jul 2014 02:44:50 -0400 (EDT)
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 216 - by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 216
By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER: Randy and Zack race to the twins' rescue, but it's Bob who
rules.  "The mild-mannered Clark Kent had morphed into a real Superman as
he snarled at the beaten bikers, `You shit-for-brains motherfuckers sure
tangled with the wrong guys when you dared to touch my boys'."  Later Bob
rules Randy in the bedroom. "It was as if the naked gypsy was stretched on
a sacrificial slab offering his body to a god."

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


Chapter 216 – "Superman Rules"

The twins had made what could charitably called a lapse of judgment,
combined with bad luck – only it was a major lapse and rotten luck.  The
pity was, they had been having such a good day and were feeling pleased
with themselves.  They had gone to the Silver Lake district on the east
side of L.A. – an eclectic mix of gay men, mostly of the leather-levi
fraternity, and a vibrant Mexican community – and they were there for
the latter.

They had gone to a Mexican grocery store on Hyperion Avenue, the only place
they knew that sold the ingredients they needed for a special dinner they
were making that night for a gathering of the whole tribe.  They had
quickly found everything they wanted, and were excited about their upcoming
task – a bit giddy actually – impulsive – not to mention thirsty
in the hot afternoon sun.

"Feel like a drink, bro?" Kyle asked as they drove away from the store.
"We could drop into one of those Silver Lake bars the guys are always
talking about, maybe see some leather guys like Zack."

Dismissing a faint warning sign that flashed through his mind Kevin
grinned, "Sure, why not?  The shopping went quicker than we thought and I
could use a real cold beer right about now.  Where shall we go?"

They happened to be driving along a shabby back street when Kyle said,
"Hey, look," and slammed on the brakes.  Across the street was a scruffy
hole-in-the-wall bar, with peeling black paint and a small parking lot at
the side.  Kyle laughed, "Look at the name – `The Crank Shaft'."  He
didn't realize that the name was suggestive of hard drugs and hard sex.
What grabbed their attention were the four big motorbikes, two Harleys and
two Hondas, parked in the lot.

"Must be a leather bar," said Kevin.  "Maybe those bikers are hot, like
Mark, Zack and Randy."

"Shit dude, nobody's hot like those guys, but we could take a peek, have a
quick beer and if we don't like it just leave."

Gripped by a rush of excitement, they parked on the street, went to the
door and pushed aside the wide leather strips hanging over it.  After the
bright sun they blinked in the sudden darkness and made their way to the
brighter lights over the bar.  A bored looking bartender, a heavy-set older
guy with a beard, wearing grubby jeans, boots and a sweaty black tank top,
looked up and said, "Well, what do we have here?  What'll it be, guys?"

"Two beers," said Kyle, deepening his voice, trying to sound tough.  The
bartended grabbed the beers, popped off the tops and slid them across the
counter.  "Six bucks."  Kyle gave him a ten and said in the same deep
voice, "Keep the change."

"Shit damn," the man said, "not often we get a couple of hot young bucks
like you in here, especially on a slow afternoon like this.  Hey guys," he
yelled to the corner, "take a look at this."

The twins turned their heads in the direction he had shouted and saw in the
shadows the four bikers – but they were nothing like Zack, Randy or
Mark.  Quite the opposite, they were all heavy set, in full leather, black
vests open over fat hairy stomachs, with faces that could only be described
as ugly – and scary.  They heaved themselves off their stools and
stomped over to the twins.

Alarm bells were now ringing loudly in the twins' heads and they took a
gulp of beer and set the bottles on the bar.  "Hey, they're twins," growled
one of the men, "hotter than hell, too.  Shit ... twins ... guys, we can
have a real good time with twins.  You wanna stick around, boys?"

"Actually, we have to go right now," said Kyle, the deep tough voice
changing to a nervous high pitch.  "Come on Kevin."  They made for the door
but felt strong arms hold them back.

"I don't think so, boys," said one of the other men.  "We've got a whole
back room here you're gonna love."

Struggling was hopeless as they were pulled through a door, along a pitch
black corridor and into a big room, all black, lit only by dim red lights.
In a panic now the boys could make out a couple of chairs and bars on the
wall with leather equipment hanging from them – restraints, ropes,
chains and a couple of whips.

The twins grabbed each others' hands, frozen in fear, but Randy had trained
them to resist panic and think fast in dangerous situations.  Kyle said,
"OK, sirs, we'll do what you want, only I have to use the bathroom first."

One of the men laughed sadistically.  "Hell, don't want you crapping all
over the floor when we start working on that pretty body of yours and you
brother's ass.  OK, it's through that door, but don't think you're gonna
get out that way.  There's no windows, just the crapper."

"Thank you, sir," Kyle said and scurried into the fetid room and closed the
door.  Trying to stay calm he pulled out his cell phone, punched the number
for Bob and held his breath.  He could have wept with relief at the sound
of Bob's voice.  "Sir," he whispered into the phone, "we're in trouble
... trapped ... bikers ... Silver Lake bar ... The Crank Shaft.  Please,
sir, I'm scared ... they're gonna hurt us..."

"Hey kid," came a shout, "get that cute ass of yours off the fucking can
and back in here – now!"

Kyle hurriedly shut off the phone, flushed the toilet and went back to join
his brother.  He flashed a look at him and imperceptibly mouthed "Bob."  In
their intuitive way of communicating Kevin understood and his fear
diminished.  If Bob knew where they were they would be OK.

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

"Hello – Kyle – you still there?"  Silence.  Bob broke out in a cold
sweat and his instant reflex was to call Randy, who he knew was still on
the construction site with Zack.  "Randy help me.  It's the twins –
they're in real trouble, in some Silver Lake bar called the Crank Shaft
... captured by bikers or something.  Randy please, help me..."

"OK, man, I know the place ... that dump is bad news.  Leave it to me,
buddy – I'll take care it.  You stay put – things could get rough.
I'll be in touch."

Randy and Zack had been at each other's throats lately, culminating in a
massive fight that Zack had won.  But the sudden emergency cut all through
that and Zack said, "You gonna take on a gang of bikers, you're gonna need
me, buddy.  Together we can beat anyone – we're invincible."

They raced out to Randy's truck, leapt in and sat grim faced side by side
as it roared away.  They were tense, angry, ready for action – only this
time they were on the same side.

With Randy's fuck-the-speed-limits driving they arrived at the Crank Shaft
in only ten minutes.  Randy swerved up onto the curb, blocking the sole
exit of the parking lot.  "Looks like four bikes and a truck," said Zack as
they leapt out of the truck."

"Yeah," Randy said, "so if they're riding solo, four assholes, plus the
bartender.  Should be a piece of cake, eh buddy?"

"Lead on," said Zack with a grim smile.

They burst through the leather strips at the door and strode right up to
the bar.  The greasy bartender raised his head and was immediately grabbed
by the neck of his tank top and hauled halfway over the bar by Randy, who
snarled, "Where are they, shithead?"

"What ... what are you talking about?"  Randy nodded at Zack who grabbed
one of the man's hands and bent the fingers back brutally.  "I'm gonna
break your fingers one at a time, asshole, until you answer my buddy's
question.  Where the fuck are they?"

"Aaagh ... No don't ... please ... through that door."

"Your truck's blocked so you're not going anywhere, pal.  You move a muscle
and my buddy here will come back and twist your nuts off."  The ice-cold
precision of Randy's voice terrified the man and he slumped against the
back counter as Randy released him.  Randy and Zack marched through the
door, along the black corridor, and opened the far door a crack,
maintaining the element of surprise.

They sized up the situation instantly.  Visible under the red lights the
twins were seated in two wood chairs against the wall.  Their wrists were
tied to the arms and their ankles to the chair legs so they were pretty
much immobilized, except for their heads that they kept bowed.  The four
bikers loomed over them, with their backs to Randy and Zack, who could see
that the twins were not yet hurt ... it was just beginning.

The two men facing the boys unzipped their leather pants and pulled out
their fat limp dicks.  They lifted up the boys' chins and grinned at them,
visibly drooling.  "See, here's the deal," one said.  "Me and my men here
haven't taken our Viagra yet, but we don't need to now, do we, boys?  You
got those juicy mouths and sexy lips so you can be our own personal Viagra.
These hunks o' meat stink pretty good but if you work them like good little
cocksuckers they'll get good and hard."

"And if they don't," said the other, "we'll just slap you around a bit `til
our dicks get hard enough to fuck those cute asses.  Then our buddies here
get their turn.  Then us again ... well you get the picture. See, there's
only one thing to do with hot young bucks like you – gang-fuck `em."

"You lay one more goddam finger on those boys and I'm gonna shove my fist
so far up your ass it'll come out of your mouth."

Randy's deep, menacing voice made all four men swing round and they took an
involuntary step back as they saw the muscular, menacing figures by the
door.  Having come straight from the construction site they were both
shirtless in muddy jeans and boots, one a swarthy gypsy with long black
hair and steel-blue eyes, the other a black bodybuilder with a shaved head,
his ebony muscles gleaming under the red lights.

A wave of relief swept over the twins.  They were safe!  The same could not
be said for the bikers.  Formidable as the newcomers were, the chief of the
group stammered a bit as he growled, "Who ... who the fuck are you?"

Randy grinned, "Oh, me and my buddy just stopped in for a beer and we heard
there was a party going on back here.  Thought we'd take a look."

Confused by Randy's change of tone the man faltered.  "Well ... sure there
is.  Me and the boys was just gonna loosen these kids up with a good face
fuck, then take it in turns ploughing their asses.  Man, these young studs
are prime meat, so there's plenty to go around.  You wanna join in?"

"Hey, now there's an invitation you don't get every day of the week," Randy
grinned. "What d'ya think Zack?  You want a piece of the action here?
Think we should join the party?"

"Sounds like a plan, buddy.  Let's rock."

They strutted toward the bikers and Randy said, "Tell you what, though.
How about we leave the kids out of the party for now?"  He winked at the
twins.  "What we had in mind was something more along these lines..."  He
and Zack acted in perfect unison as each slammed a gut punch into a biker's
stomach, then swung the other fist across his face, sending both men
reeling across the room and crashing against the wall.

Their two buddies were not slow to respond despite their bulk, and jumped
Randy and Zack from behind, running their arms under their armpits and
locking their hands behind their necks in full-nelson holds.  Their arms
helplessly locked, stretched out to the side, Randy and Zack faced each
other and Zack grinned, "Looks like they got us, man.  Time for that
head-butt thing?"

They both leaned far forward and bowed their heads, heaving the bikers
forward over their backs.  Randy and Zack ran toward each other like
charging bulls and there was a sickening crash above them as the bikers'
heads slammed against each other like battering rams. Howling in pain they
slid off Randy and Zack and slumped against the wall with their stunned
buddies.

Randy faced the four of them, eyes blazing.  "You fucking morons ... these
are our boys you got here and we don't take kindly to scumbags like you so
much as breathing your stinking breath over them.  So why don't you try
partying with real men.  Try us on for size."

"Get em," the biker boss yelled, "it's four against two," and he grabbed a
chain hanging on the wall above his head.  He pulled it down, wrapped it
round his fist and advanced on Randy, who took a step back, but was tripped
from behind by one of the others.  The shirtless construction boss sprawled
in the ground, looked up at the chain swinging down toward him and rolled
away as it crashed on the ground beside him.

The twins looked on in horror – but they needn't have worried.  As the
biker took another swing Zack grabbed the chain in mid air and yanked it
out of the man's fist.  It was a terrifying sight, the tall black
bodybuilder, muscles gleaming as he swung the chain round above his head,
with the battle cry of a warrior.

The bikers backed away, but Zack swung the long chain skillfully round the
legs of two of them and yanked them off their feet.  They crashed to the
ground beside Randy who quickly unwound the chain and, still lying on his
back, swung it with perfect aim round the waists of the other two and
yanked it hard so they lurched forward and fell on top of their buddies.

Randy leapt to his feet and grinned quickly at the twins.  We'll set you
free in a minute, kids, once we've put away these assholes.  Enjoy your
ringside seat."  He turned his attention back to the bikers while the twins
smiled at each other.  They felt no fear now that Randy and Zack were on
the job.  They had no discomfort – other than Kevin's need to scratch
his nose.

The two construction workers towered over the groveling bikers.  "Fucking
shitheads," Randy yelled.  He kicked the chain away from them across the
floor.  "Scumbags like you always fight dirty.  Now let's see how good you
are with your fists."  He jerked his fingers toward his own bare chest.
"Come on, assholes, let's see what you got."

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

In the meantime Bob was not exactly sitting idly by the phone.  Bob was
mad.  He had taken the call from the twins in his executive office at his
corporation in West L.A. and had called Randy from there.  He told his
secretary he was leaving for the day, ran to the elevator and in minutes he
was behind the wheel of his Mercedes driving east across the city.

His square jaw was clenched hard, his eyes cold with fury.  At first he had
felt a sickening stab of fear but that abated as soon as he had spoken to
Randy.  He had absolute faith that Randy and Zack could keep his boys safe.
His boys! ... the exquisite twins he loved second only to Randy himself,
the boys who had spent their teenage years running from danger in a
desperate quest to stay together, but were now in danger at the hands of a
gang of thugs.

Bob rarely showed overt anger.  Though he looked like Superman he acted
more like the mild-mannered Clark Kent.  Inside he was a man of steel, but
he preferred to settle conflict by sheer force of personality.  God knows
he had done this often enough in the office when he had brought a
contentious board meeting to heel.

He was, as they say, a slow burn, but when the twins were in peril his
anger blazed.  But he kept it in check, in reserve, as he reached for his
car-phone and punched a number.  "Ah, Darius, good, you're there.  Do you
know a Silver Lake bar called the Crank Shaft?"

The news of the fast moving events had not yet reached even the ever
vigilant Darius so he was surprised by this out-of-the-blue question from
Bob.  "I've heard of it, sir," he said, "a real bad-news dump according to
Zack I can Google it to get the location if you like."

"Good, now listen carefully.  When you've got directions go and wait
outside the house for me, and be sure to bring your camera."

"Got it, sir," Darius said and hung up.

Some minutes later Bob's Mercedes pulled up at the gate, Darius jumped in
and they were off.  Darius's whole body was tense with excitement, sitting
beside a grim-faced Bob in his big Mercedes.  He could feel that something
big was up and he had never seen this expression on Bob's face – jaw
set, staring straight ahead with a look of ice-cold rage.

Bob filled Darius in on what was happening – the bare facts that he had
anyway – and added, "When we get there, whatever happens, I want a
record of it.  That's where you come in.  I want you to stay in the
background, out of harm's way and video the whole thing."

"Right on, sir."  Darius's street directions into the shabby neighborhood
were precise and Bob said, "Look, there's Randy's truck – and the twins'
truck across the street.  Jesus, what a dump."  He parked on the curb
behind Randy's truck and they got out.  Outside the door there was silence
at first, but then they heard the faint sounds of what had to be a fight
somewhere inside – thuds, shouts – and Randy's obscenities.

Bob's main fear was Randy's anger.  He loved Bob's twins and Bob knew that
his fury at anyone who hurt them was enough to make him lose control and
kill a man.  Bob quickly pulled out his cell phone and hit the number for
Mark, who he knew would be on his usual police beat around now.  He made
instant contact and quickly described the situation.

"I didn't want to call the cops officially until I've seen what's
happening, but it would be great if you could come as soon as possible,
buddy."  Darius could well imagine the reaction at the other end and had a
clear image of the cop gunning his motorcycle and roaring off.  This was
Bob calling him, after all.

Bob put his phone away and said, "You ready, Darius?"  "Right with you,
sir"

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

Bob pushed the leather strips aside and marched inside, through the gloom
toward the lights of the bar, where the bartender was still slumped against
the back of the bar with a terrified look in his eyes.  Bob had seen that
look before.  The man had obviously had the Randy treatment.

Darius hung back in the shadows, his camera trained on the bar.  The man
stared at the tall, imposing man dressed in suit and tie, glowering down at
him.  "You the owner of this place?" Bob said icily.

The man pulled himself together and said, "Sure am.  What can I get you,
sir?"

"Your Liquor License to begin with," Bob said.  "From now on it's not worth
the paper it's printed on – and you won't be worth a rat's ass either
once you're indicted for the crimes you've permitted on your premises.
Drug dealing too, I'd imagine from the bar's name – crank as in crystal
meth, is it?  Probably cook it in the basement, uh?"

The bartender was struck dumb as Bob's eyes burned into his.  "Now listen
up, asshole.  You stay right here until I'm finished with your buddies –
guess that's them howling in the back room, eh?  You try to leave and
things'll go much worse for you in court.  As of now the bar is closed,
permanently.  You let no one in except the cops when they get here.  You
got all that?"

"Yes, sir."  The bartender withered under the commanding presence of this
extraordinary man.

"Follow me, Darius," Bob said and opened the door to the dark passageway.
Darius ran forward for a quick close-up of the terrified man's face, then
followed Bob down the passage.  At the end Bob threw open the door and they
were both stunned by the scene.

The twins were still tied to their chairs but, far from looking scared,
they were obviously having the best time, yelling support to their
liberators ... "that's it sir ... again, hit him again.  Behind you, Zack
... two of them ... right on, sir."

The fight was still in full swing and the four bikers, outnumbering the two
construction workers, were putting up a strong defense, using every dirty
trick in the book.  Their resilience had transformed the early enthusiasm
of Randy and Zack into anger, which in Randy's case could be lethal, and
the bikers were clearly getting the worst of it as the two men became
fighting machines.  Fighting side by side as two supportive buddies, who
had so recently been fighting each other, Randy and Zack had the bikers
against the wall, pounding the shit out of them

Then suddenly everything changed.

"Enough!"  The commanding voice rang round the room, the action stopped and
all eyes turned to the door where an imposing figure loomed, his powerful
body evident even under his business suit.  "That's enough!"  Bob saw the
chain and kicked it across the floor to Randy and Zack.  "Chain these men
to the wall.  The cops are on their way so let's make it easy for them."

 Stunned into compliance by the sheer power of this man the exhausted,
beaten bikers put up no further resistance as Randy and Zack used the chain
and ropes to secure them to the bars on the wall, side by side, backs to
the wall.  "Darius," I want a complete record of this – long shots, mug
shots of these pricks, and shots of the boys tied to chairs."  Then I want
the boys untied.

Darius went to work as Randy gazed in awe at his lover Bob.  The
mild-mannered Clark Kent had morphed into a real Superman.

Just then they heard the wailing sirens of a lone cop pulling up outside
and in minutes Mark burst through the door, pushing the frightened bar
owner before him.  Bob did not reveal his connection to the cop, any more
than he had with Randy and Zack.  Anonymity was part of the plan.  "Good
timing, officer," Bob said with no sign of recognition.  "I think you'll
find everything's pretty much under control."

"So I see," Mark said, his professional poise unable to stifle a grin as
Randy released the twins.

Bob's anger had been spiked by the sight of his boys tied up in this
stinking room and he strode to the center of the room with a look of cold
fury that even Randy had never seen before.  His voice was equally icy as
it held in check a fury that could explode at any time.

"Right," he said, "now everyone listen to me carefully.  These are my boys
who have been subjected to abuse and terror – and nobody, nobody messes
with my boys, least of all these pathetic dickheads chained to the wall.
So here's how it's gonna be ...

"As an attorney and senior executive of a major company I have access to a
fleet of top flight lawyers and high-powered contacts in State Government.
So I am personally gonna see to it that these four douchebags do serious
jail time.  I'll make sure the whole goddam book is thrown at you jerkoffs
– kidnapping, mayhem, false imprisonment, intent to cause grievous
bodily harm, conspiracy to commit a hate crime, you name it.

"And by the way, when your fellow prison inmates find out you were
convicted of assaulting young guys, with intent to gang-rape them, I don't
give much for the future of your own asses.  You're gonna be doing a lot of
bending over and grabbing your ankles in the slammer, guys, and god luck
sitting down after all those guys have taken their turn.  Talk about
gang-rape!"

Bob pointed to the groveling bar owner.  "This asswipe will be indicted as
a co-conspirator.  He will lose his liquor license and never own a bar
again as long as he lives.  And officer, you might want to check out the
premises for manufacture and storage of meth.  As for this dump it will be
permanently shuttered and you can torch it for all I care."

He pointed to Darius.  "This young man will provide a full video of the
crime scene so I'll leave the rest to you, officer."  Then to Zack and
Randy, "I am deeply grateful to you two men for rescuing my boys.  These
sons-of-bitches deserved the beating you gave them.  You can get in touch
with me later, officer, and we'll be available to make statements.  But now
I'm taking my boys home."

He looked venomously at the sullen bikers.  "You shit-for-brains
motherfuckers sure tangled with the wrong guys when you dared to touch
these boys.  OK, come on kids – you gotta get dinner on the table."  He
put his arms round his boys' shoulders and they left the room.

Randy stared after Bob in awe and disbelief.  "Wow," he said.  "I am so
gonna fuck that guy's ass tonight!"

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

Bob drove the boys home in his Mercedes.  He wanted to be close to them
right now and he asked tentatively, "You boys feeling OK?"

"We're fine, sir," said Kevin, and Kyle added, "You should've seen that
fight, sir, it was amazing.  Randy and Zack were so cool the way they took
on four guys at once."

"And you weren't scared?"

Kyle said, "We were at first, sir, until I got hold of you and told you
where we were.  Then we knew everything would be OK.  And when Randy and
Zack arrived we knew for sure we were safe."  They both giggled and Kevin
said, "Randy said he'd stick his fist so far up the guy's ass it would come
out of his mouth."

"Yeah," Bob grinned, "sounds like vintage Randy."

They arrived at the house and Bob said, "So what do you want to do now
we're home, kids?  You don't have to cook dinner, you know."

"Of course we will, sir," said Kevin.  "That's why we were in Silver Lake
in the first place, to get these special ingredients.  That's why we
transferred them from our truck to your car."  They heaved out the grocery
bags and made for the kitchen.  Kyle looked back over his shoulder and
grinned, "Thank you for saving us, sir.  We'll thank Randy and Zack when
they get home too."

Bob watched them disappear into the kitchen, knowing that was the best
place for them right now, the place where they felt most at home.  He shook
his head in amazement at how resilient the twins were.  He realized how
safe they felt, with himself, Randy and the other guys to take care of
them.  As he went upstairs to change out of his suit Bob felt humbled by
the responsibility he and the guys had to protect their boys.

Randy and Zack arrived home next, having helped Mark load the five thugs
into squad cars that Mark had summoned, and then padlocked the door to the
bar.  They had brought Darius with them, sitting proudly between the two
battle-scarred warriors.  Zack let his hand wander to the huge bulge in
Darius's pants.  "Later, kid," he grinned.

Darius had called ahead and was met by the other boys.  "Dudes, you are
never gonna believe ..." he was saying as he hustled them upstairs to his
room.

Randy turned to Zack and shook his hand.  "Thanks buddy," he said.  "Some
fight eh?  That chain thing could have been messy but you had my back –
you always do.  Er, that stupid shit that went down earlier between us
... I..."

"Water under the bridge, buddy," Zack grinned and pulled him into a bear
hug.  "I love you, man, you know that."

"Me too buddy.  Hey, maybe we should take our boys up to the lake, do some
fishing, and I can find a way to really thank you.  But right now I got
some business I gotta take care of upstairs."

Zack grinned knowingly.  "Go get him, big guy."

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

Bob was loosening his tie as Randy walked in – and they both got instant
erections.  The air was still heavy with testosterone after the huge
adrenaline rush of events, and Randy was never so horny as after a fight.
They grinned at each other almost shyly and Randy pulled two beers out of
the small fridge.  He gave one to Bob and sprawled in the big armchair,
waiting for his favorite sight – his lover taking his clothes off.

"Shit damn, you were fucking epic in that bar, man," Randy said.  "It was
so damn hot the way you shredded those motherfuckers – such a stud.
I`ve never seen you that mad, it was scary, but such a fucking turn on.
I've never wanted to fuck your ass as much as I did right then."

"Yeah well still waters run deep, you know."  Bob took a slug of beer then
started to undress.  He shucked off his jacket, untied his tie and let it
hang loose round his neck, then unbuttoned his shirt all the way down and
pulled it out of his pants.

Turned on by the display, Randy said, "You really threw the book at those
assholes.  By the way, I knew you had an MBA but you never told me you had
a law degree too."

"Ýeah, well I didn't wanna make you scared of me – you know, bringing
legal charges against you or something."

Randy roared with laughter.  "Scared!  That'll be the day, asshole.  I am
so fucking hot for you right now, man, that the only thing that scares me
is busting my load in my pants before I get to your ass."  He stood up,
took a gulp of beer with one hand and rubbed his crotch with the other.

Bob frowned as he looked at Randy's bare torso and filthy work pants.
"Shouldn't you get cleaned up?  You're a mess from that fight – cuts,
bruises, dirt, dried sweat."

"Yeah well you know how I am after a fight, buddy.  I just wanna fuck."  He
walked forward but Bob put a restraining hand on his chest, his eyes boring
into Randy's.  "Not his time, big guy.  The ball's in my court today and
I'm still pumped after that scene in the bar.  Look at me, man."

He took a step back and held his arms out to the sides.  His shirt and tie
hung loose, wide open, displaying his magnificent pecs and washboard abs.
He looked down at the bulge in his pants and said, "If I turn you on as
much as you say I do, what you gonna do about that boner down there?"

Randy gazed at the beautiful muscle-god, at his square jawed features and
dark hair – the same man he had just seen totally dominate a roomful of
guys.  This was not Clark Kent – this time it really was Superman and
Randy fell to his knees in an act of worship as well as raw lust.  He
unzipped Bob's pants and pulled out his lover's long, hard shaft.  He
licked the drops of pre-cum dripping from the head, then gazed in awe at
the beautiful cock before sliding his mouth over it and sucking it down to
the back of his throat.

Looking down at the shirtless construction boss, his stubbled face and
heavily muscled body bearing the marks of battle, Bob sighed deeply, "Aah,
yeah, eat that meat, big guy.  Man, you were such a stallion when you
destroyed those guys with your bare fists, and now here you are, the king
of the gypsies on his knees sucking another man's cock.  That gypsy face
looks so fucking hot with my rod in your mouth."

Randy was feeling a whole new sensation.  He had given Bob blow-jobs
before, but always as an act of love to give pleasure to his man.  But
having just seen this gorgeous, sexy muscle-god exert his power over a
roomful of fighting men he was still in awe and bowed willingly before him.
Sucking his cock now was an act of submission to a man who was as strong as
he was beautiful, and the rugged fighter was proud to service him on his
knees.

He breathed deeply though his nose, smelling the musky, male essence of his
lover's cock, tasting his matted pubic hair as his face buried into it.  He
looked up at the towering hunk, reached up and ran his hands under his
shirt, over his sculpted chest and abs, then clung to his tight waist as he
sucked the cock faster and faster, his head pounding up and down like a
jackhammer.  Bob ran his hands through the gypsy's long black hair, pulling
the head forward onto his driving cock.

"Man, you are so fucking hot impaled on my rod," Bob moaned.  "Suck it, man
... take it all the way down ... make your master cum ... here it comes
... Aaagh!"

Randy gulped hard as Bob's hot semen poured down his throat.  It was like
nectar from a god and Randy ripped open his own pants and paid homage as
his own cock exploded at his lover's feet.  Bob pulled out and sprayed the
last of his juice over the dark, stubbled face.

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

Randy fell forward, threw his arms round Bob's waist and pressed his face
against his stomach at the line of his belt.  His emotion was so intense
that he was heaving with dry sobs.  But he wanted more.  He had come into
the room intent on fucking this Superman's ass but now he craved the
reverse.  His face was smothered in cum and dirt, semen dripping from the
corners of his mouth, as he looked up and begged, "Please, sir – fuck my
ass – please take my ass."

Randy had occasionally submitted to men before but only after losing a
fight, as he had recently to Zack, but that was merely a reaction to
unbearable pain.  But this was different.  Now he wanted to debase himself,
wanted to prove himself subservient to this powerful, beautiful god-like
man.  He looked at Bob's now semi-erect cock and said desperately, "I can
make it hard, man.  I can do it ... I have to feel it in my ass."

"Do it, man," Bob said simply.

Once again Randy closed his mouth over the cock and sucked it in, clenching
his throat muscles hard, squeezing the cock until he felt it stiffen in his
mouth.  The shaft began once again to piston in his mouth, but this time
Randy pulled his mouth off when he tasted pre-cum oozing from it.  He leapt
to his feet, frantically pulled off his boots and socks and flung them
aside, then practically ripped off his pants and threw himself butt-naked
on the bed.  He spread-eagled himself on the bed, his arms stretched up,
clutching the corner posts of the headboard.

Even if Randy had not sucked him Bob's cock would have been hard as steel
looking down at the naked gypsy, his hard-muscled body covered in the scars
of battle, semen drying on his face, as if he were stretched on a
sacrificial slab offering his body to a god.

Bob knew he had the man totally in his power, a fitting climax to a day
where he had asserted his authority as an alpha male as never before and
proved his domination over friend and foe alike beyond any doubt.  He
intended to enjoy this newfound power and, at the same time, prove his
devotion to the man subjugating himself before him.

He pushed his stiff cock back in his pants and zipped them up, then walked
round the bed, gazing down at the naked man.  He slid his belt from his
slacks, went to the corner of the bed, buckled the belt round Randy's
wrist, and tied it to the bedpost.  He pulled his tie from round his neck
and tied the other wrist to the opposite post.  "That's just as I want
you," Bob said, "but I know how strong you are so let's test those
restraints."

Randy knew what he meant, having demanded this often of Bob.  He began to
struggle, looking up at his wrists, tugging at them his magnificent body
writhing on the bed, veins etched in his straining muscles.  "Oh man," Bob
breathed, "that looks fucking incredible."  His mind went back to the room
at the bar and he fantasized that Randy had been beaten by the bikers in
the fight.  They had spread-eagled him on the floor and the battle-scarred
construction boss now waited in bondage for them to work him over – to
gang-fuck his ass.

Randy was feeing something similar, except that he had been beaten by this
spectacular looking alpha male with his astonishing power to subdue.  And
now he was waiting to get his ass fucked – not only waiting but begging
for it as he watched the business executive circle the bed.  "Don't torture
me like this, man," he begged.  "My ass is on fire ... I need to feel your
dick inside it ... Please, man..."

Bob simply smiled in response.  He was really enjoying this, knowing that
Randy was not play-acting – he really wanted Bob to plough his ass.  But
Bob took his time.  Slowly he shrugged off his shirt and let it drop onto
Randy's face.  Randy inhaled deeply, smelling the sweat at the armpits, and
then Bob pulled it away and tossed it to the floor.  Randy gasped, seeing
him stripped to the waist, the slabs of his chest, eight-pack abs, broad
shoulders and flared lats sloping down to where his beltless slacks clung
to his waist and hips.

Bob took a leisurely swig of beer then put a foot on the bed next to
Randy's face.  Looming over him he slowly unlaced his shoe and pulled it
off, brushing it against Randy's face He pulled off his black sock and laid
it across Randy's neck.  Randy was growing wild with desire, pulling at his
restraints, moaning loudly, desperate to touch his cock.  Bob pulled off
his other shoe and sock, then bundled the socks together and stuffed them
in Randy's mouth.

Randy's eyes widened in frustration – he wanted, needed to beg, he
wanted Bob to fuck him so bad.  But Bob simple unzipped his pants and let
them fall.  He towered over Randy in just his white boxer shorts and Randy
screamed into his gag at the sight of the stunning, near naked muscle-god
who he wanted so desperately to fuck him.

But it was not to be.  Bob picked up his beer, took another swallow then
looked down at Randy's agonized face.  "Nah," he said.  "I wanna hear the
King of the Gypsies beg."  He pulled the socks out of Randy's mouth, then
walked back and sprawled in the armchair, just as Randy had done so
arrogantly only minutes before.

Bob pulled his iron-hard dick out of his boxers and began to stroke it
slowly.  Randy craned his neck and looked at him wild-eyed.  "Don't cum,
man, whatever you do.  Please, I need you to cum in my ass."

Bob grinned, "See, I've always wondered what it felt like to have supreme
power over another man, especially a dominant top-man like you.  Look at
this huge dick, man.  It's gonna feel so good butt-fucking the arrogant,
macho construction boss.  You're such a badass stud the way you thrashed
those bikers, but now that top-man's tied up waiting to feel a man's dick
up his ass ... this dick right here – that's if I don't jack off first.

Bob's words, the images he created, were driving Randy ape-shit and he
yelled, "No, please, don't cum."  His magnificent body was thrashing wildly
as he yanked at his wrists in a futile attempt to get free.  At least let
me touch my cock, man.  Please, I'm begging you ... you're so fucking
gorgeous I have to cum, man ... please, I ... Aaagh!"  His cock exploded
with a spout of semen that basted up high and splashed down on his own
face.

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

Bob stood up, dropped his boxers and smiled.  Through a film of cum Randy
gazed up and thought he had never seen anything more beautiful than this
stunning man who had him totally in his power.  "You may have noticed," Bob
said casually, that I did not bust my load when you did.  I was saving it
for this.  He knelt on the bed and Randy pulled his legs back exposing his
ass.  Bob pressed the head of his cock against the hole and Randy held his
breath.

But the expected push did not come, driving Randy wild with frustration.
Bob said softly, "You really have to want this, man ... I mean really want
it."

"Man I'm going crazy here.  Please, man ... fuck my ass."

Bob leaned forward, pinned Randy's forearms on the bed and lowered his face
close to his.  Randy gazed into the soft brown eyes of the handsome square
jawed face and heard his lover say.  "Let's see how much you want it,
buddy."  And finally, at long last, Bob pushed the head of his cock over
the sphincter and slid it slowly inside Randy's fiery ass ... but paused
halfway down.  "Now, you're gonna show me just how much you want me,
Randy."

Bob's jaw clenched, his eyes bored into Randy's ... and he slammed his cock
hard into the deepest recess of Randy ass.  "Aaagh!  Aaagh!  Aaagh!" Randy
screamed and his cock shuddered in yet another eruption of cum that this
time splashed on his lover's chest above him.  For an instant he blacked
out.  When he opened his eyes he saw, coming slowly into focus, the
exquisitely handsome face of his lover smiling down at him.

Bob said gently, "OK, now all that craziness is behind us we can finally
make love, which is what this is all about.  `Cause I love you with all my
soul, Randy, you have to know that.  And what follows is my personal
undying thanks to you for saving my boys for me."  He leaned forward and
unbuckled his belt from one of Randy's wrists, then reached over and pulled
the end of his tie which unraveled from the other.  He grinned, "I learned
that safety knot from you, buddy."

He pulled his cock back slowly, then eased it gently into Randy's ass,
making love to his ass, to his man, to the love of his life.  Randy was
transported into sensations that were beyond anything in the real world as
he reached up and stroked the beautiful face with both hands.  Tears came
to his eyes as he said softly, "I am so fucking in love with you, man."

Bob leaned forward and kissed Randy's cheek, then his lips, then his eyes,
and licked every cut and bruise on his face, trying to heal the wounds the
fighter had sustained in the protection of his boys.  The tender massaging
of Randy's ass continued as Bob pulled his face back and they settled for
simply gazing into each other's eyes.  Except there was nothing simple
about it as they floated together into their own private world reserved
just for them.

Their love making continued for what seemed like eternity until suddenly,
in contrast to the preceding drama, the end came with barely a sound.
"Now?" Bob smiled.  "Now," grinned Randy.  And they both felt juice flowing
out of them in the ultimate expression of the love of one man for another

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

Minutes later as they lay back on the bed side by side Bob said, "I hope
after all this I haven't lost my caveman."  Randy laughed, "Not a chance,
buddy.  Tomorrow it's payback time and we'll see who's really the boss.  No
man makes me beg and gets away with it."

"That's what I was hoping, sir," Bob smiled.

They showered, pulled on T-shirts and shorts, and went down barefoot to
join the group that had already gathered for dinner.  As always there was a
ripple of excitement as the men and boys saw the two glorious lovers, the
founding members of their tribe, appear together after what had undoubtedly
been intense sex.  Only they couldn't know just how intense it had been.

The gathering was more of a celebration than a simple dinner.  Of course
everyone by now knew all the details of the twins' adventure, thanks to
Darius, his video and his motor-mouth.  What had not been caught on video
was described by the twins at Darius's insistence.  There was a lot of
praise to go around, mostly for Randy, Zack and Mark, but especially for
Bob whose surprising action and speech in the bar was the highlight of the
video.  He was now held in even higher esteem than before – an
unchallenged leader among men.

Bob had already expressed his thanks to Randy in the bedroom, and now he
turned to Zack and Mark.  "You know, I didn't really thank you guys enough
after that little act I pulled in the bar, but I do now.  I will be
eternally grateful to you for putting your safety on the line for the sake
of my twins."

"That `little act' you pulled?" Zack repeated.  "You saying you didn't mean
any of it."

Bob's face clouded over, showing the same anger and authority he had in the
bar.  "Oh no ... I meant every word.  I've already contacted an Assistant
District Attorney I know well who owes me a few favors.  He'll file the
charges and the twins are eager to testify.  They're as angry as I am and
say they never want other guys to go through what they did.  Plus we have
the whole crime scene on Darius's video.  Make no mistake, that bar is
closed for good and those assholes will pay dearly for hurting my boys, I
assure you."

Zack grinned and shook his head.  "Man, you three are something else!
Remind me never to get on your bad side, buddy."  Bob laughed.  "Not just
three, Zack – you, Randy, Mark too.  This was a group effort – a
tribe taking care of its own."

In a way the twins were at the center of all this and it made them very
uncomfortable.  Kyle spoke up for them both.  "Sirs, this was all our fault
for going to that stupid bar in the first place.  We must have been crazy
and we're really sorry we put you all in danger."

Randy saw the pained look in Bob's eyes and spoke up.  "OK, guys, let's
talk about that.  Listen up all you boys.  Now what the twins made was an
error of judgment, made worse by sheer bad luck.  Now we don't want to clip
the wings of any of you boys ... we're raising you to be strong and
independent.  That said, if ever you feel like doing something unusual or
even a bit daring out there you must call your master first, and if you
can't get a hold of him call me or Bob.  Especially if it involves sex –
we need to know first.  Any questions?

 "Yes, sir."  Eddie's hand shot up.  "Sir, does that include jacking off?
Often when I'm driving around I'm thinking of Hassan in his uniform – or
better still out of it – and I have to beat off and shoot a load.
Should I call him first before I do it?  He's sometimes hard to get a hold
of."

Darius sputtered, stifling a laugh, but Zack clipped him round the ear.
"That's a good question," Randy said, glaring at Darius.  "No, you do not
need our permission to whack off.  But there are two conditions.  Never do
it while driving – pull over and park.  And make sure there's no one who
can see you – that could lead to trouble.  Thanks for raising the
question Eddie."  Eddie blushed with pride at Randy's thanks and looked
smugly at Darius.

But still, in the rowdy chatter that followed, the twins remained subdued,
and when they were back in the kitchen Bob and Randy came to check they
were OK – not suffering from delayed shock.  "No, sirs," Kevin reassured
them, "we're feeling fine – but ashamed.  We're thinking that as members
of the tribe we should be punished for what we did."

"Ah, so that's it," said Bob.  The twins didn't see him wink at Randy as he
said, "What do you think, Randy?"

"Hmm," Randy said pensively, stroking his chin.  "I guess they're right.
Tell you what, why don't we force them to spend the night with us and when
they're good and naked we'll find some way to punish their sorry asses.
And it won't be quick ... we'll make them stay with us all night long."

Bob shot a grateful smile at Randy and turned serious as he faced the
twins.  "You hear that boys?  When you've finished in the kitchen you go
upstairs to the master bedroom, strip naked and wait for us.  Sorry, but
that's the way it has to be.  Come on Randy, let's have a nightcap by the
pool.

As the men left Kevin and Kyle looked at each other.  They knew they should
be feeling scared but, punishment or not, the thought of spending the whole
night with their handsome master and his gypsy lover made their eyes
sparkle with excitement.

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

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Part 217

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!