Date: Wed, 27 Dec 2017 14:26:38 -0500
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 393  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 393
By Rob Williams

CHAPTER 393 – "JAMIE'S RBELLION ENRAGES THE COP"

IN THIS CHAPTER:

"Fuck this job!  Fuck Randy.  And fuck you Bob.  I'm done, I quit."  The
hot blond surfer Jamie rebels against his office job and enrages his
master, the macho cop Mark. "I'm so fucking mad at you, boy, you're gonna
pay for this."  But first Mark does penance to Bob, the handsome boss his
boy has insulted.  And the surfer seeks consolation in the flawless ass of
the gymnast Tommy – "You sexy mother fucker."
_____________________________________________________________________


************ In the previous chapter *************

It was turning out to be a festive weekend-long gathering of the tribe at
the Grady House, the large estate owned by the movie star (and new film
Tarzan) Grady and his lover Mario.  There was a heavy emphasis on sex
games, which came naturally to this group of two dozen lusty men and boys.

Saturday had included hard-core sexual challenges between the senior men,
which had been filmed and replayed in the viewing room, courtesy of the
senior boy Darius.  Everyone had such a good time that Mario had invited
them all to stay the night and enjoy a restful Sunday together.

The large house fortunately had enough guest rooms to accommodate the whole
group, though it meant some doubling up in rooms – in every sense of the
phrase – and the hallway connecting the rooms saw more traffic than the
Hollywood Freeway at rush hour.

However, all was not perfect in paradise and the next morning, in the
otherwise sunny skies, a small cloud was floating over one of the two guys
having breakfast together by the pool – two senior boys who had long
been good friends.  One of them, Nate, was a happy-go-lucky young Aussie,
the tribe's house manager; and the other, Jamie, was in charge of the
construction company's business office, under the supervision of the
tribe's leader and founder Bob.

Jamie, the much-loved boy of the ruggedly handsome cop Mark, was the iconic
beautiful blond California surfer who, before he met Mark, had once been
pretty much a beach bum, and he still spent as much time as he could at the
beach.  These days, however, he was unable to get away often, owing to the
pressure of work as office manager – a pressure that was building, as
his pal Nate suspected.

As they heard triumphant shouts coming from upstairs Nate laughed, "Sounds
like some of the guys are still at it."

"Yeah, sounds like a lot of fun," Jamie said distractedly.

Nate gave his buddy a searching look and said in his Aussie drawl, "Is
everything OK, mate?  You've seemed kinda tense all morning.  Something on
your mind?"

"Nah," Jamie laughed.  "This ain't me tense, it's me relaxed.  You want
tense you should see me in the office."

Nate frowned.  "You know, Jamie, that's something I always thought was odd
– you the avid California surfer, an outdoors guy, and yet the job you
do as office manager keeps you cooped up in front of a computer all
day. The two things don't go together, somehow."

"Tell me about it.  Oh don't get me wrong, it's a great job, and Bob's a
wonderful boss, but ... I dunno, just lately it's been getting to me, like
I wanna ... break out, run away and go back to being a beach bum like I
used to be."

"Sounds like you need a vacation, mate."

"Yeah.  I mean, I'm having a blast up here relaxing with all the guys, but
come Monday morning I know I'll be back in the same old chair in front of
the same old computer.  It gets kinda suffocating and I can almost hear the
sound of the surf in my ears like a siren song.  Hell, maybe I'll surprise
them all by just busting out of there – you know, the old
take-this-job-and-shove-it revolt, and go do my own thing.'

"Ooh, steady on, mate.  You don't wanna do anything rash like that.  I
don't think Bob would approve, and if you upset Bob you upset Mark, you
know that."

Jamie sighed, but Nate proved to be right.  Jamie, who was always
considered the most stable and reliable of the senior boys, still had an
old rebellious streak buried in him, left over from his early days when he
ran wild at the beach with his buddy Larry.  He had long since been
domesticated, with a responsible job, a great boss, good buddies and, above
all, a lover he worshipped, the gorgeous cop Mark.

But burnout creeps up on a guy in a stressful job.  He can be unaware of
the tension until suddenly something snaps – and the results can be
disastrous.

Even when the guy has a boss like Bob and a lover like Mark – especially
then.  He has more to lose.

********************** CHAPTER 393 **********************

Jamie was uneasy discussing his personal problems with Nate even though
they were close friends, so he steered the conversation in a safer
direction, swapping stories of the night before and all the goings on in,
and between, the numerous guest rooms.  By now most of the tribe had
gathered for the informal buffet breakfast by the pool and the noise and
laughter got louder.

"Hey, Nate said, "we should give a hand to the junior boys like we
promised.  It's a big job serving this crowd, and an even bigger job
preparing for the major Sunday brunch coming up."

The houseboy Brian was in the thick of those preparations, trying to resist
the urging of the other boys to "spill the beans" of the night he had just
spent in the bed of their hosts Grady and Mario.

"My lips are sealed, guys," Brian protested.  "You know stuff that happens
in the Grady House is private."

"That was greeted with noisy derision by the boys, and Darius said, "Dude,
by now everyone knows everything about what went down last night except
what happened in the master suite."

"And that, mi amici, is just as it should be," came the gentle,
Italian-accented voice of Mario who had just arrived with Grady.  The two
hosts were usually the last to arrive as everyone knew they usually spent
the first hour or two on morning sex.  "Thank you for your discretion,
Brian," Mario said.  "Guys, you can see Brian is busy so leave him alone
..."  "... or you'll get tied up and fucked by Tarzan," Grady laughed.

That inviting prospect only increased the ruckus as everyone clamored to be
the victim.  Brian eased himself away and wheeled himself up to his lover
Brandon and whispered, "I'll tell you everything later, dude."  Grady
smiled affectionately as the two boys in wheelchairs rolled away chatting
conspiratorially.

The big brunch was predictably festive – the tribe at its best – and
it set the tone for the rest of the afternoon.  The previous day had been
one for letting off steam sexually, which they did with gusto, and by
comparison Sunday was pretty much a day of rest.  And there was no finer
place to relax than the Grady House, in the genial and generous company of
Grady and Mario.

By early evening the party was beginning to break up as those with an early
start the next day said goodbye to their hosts with effusive thanks and
tight hugs.  But Pete, the forest ranger, had Monday off so Mario invited
him and his boy Brandon to spend another night there.  That was mostly to
give Brian and Brandon more time together, as the two young lovers had
spent much of the weekend working the party.

So after everyone else had gone that left the small group of Grady and
Mario, Brian and Brandon, and Pete, sipping coffee and after-dinner drinks
by the pool.  The sudden silence and stillness was a marked contrast to the
clamor of the day.  Under a full moon in a cloudless sky the only sound was
the breeze rustling the trees and the occasional distant howl of a coyote.

Grady leaned back in his chair and heaved a deep sigh of contentment.
"Boy, I needed this weekend.  My life outside this place gets so crazy and
unreal – all that movie star bullshit – that I don't think I could
cope without the support and friendship of the tribe.  It's such a private
world in here, and they're such great guys, aren't they?"  He put his arm
round Mario and kissed his cheek.  "I ... I am so fucking happy right now,
guys.  Thank you so much."

Mario leaned closer and licked the tear running down his lover's cheek.

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

Mark and Jamie had been among the first to leave the Grady House as they
both had to work early next morning, Monday.  Jamie was rather subdued on
the short ride home but Mark put that down to the effects of such a hectic
weekend and they were content to ride in silence.

At the tribe's house they went straight into their large ground-floor
apartment and got ready for bed.  Mark watched Jamie kick off his sneakers,
pull off his T-shirt and drop the surfer trunks he habitually wore.  He
watched him walk naked into the bathroom to brush his teeth, then come back
and throw himself on the bed.

By this time Mark's cock was rock hard in his cargo shorts.  He dropped the
shorts, his cock sprang out and Mark grinned down at the gorgeous young
blond.  "Not too tired to help your old man take care of this are you,
buddy?"

"No, sir, of course not," Jamie said with a faint smile.  Mark put the wan
smile down to tiredness, although Jamie's use of `sir' surprised him.  Some
time ago Mark and Jamie had progressed from master/boy to adult lovers and
best buddies.  Jamie had grown into a lusty young man, a transition that
turned Mark on even more than ever, and he encouraged Jamie to no longer
call him sir, at least in private.

But Mark ignored this lapse into `sir' as he was more interested now in the
white globes of the surfer's ass, contrasting with the golden tan of his
body.  Jamie assumed the position he did every time the motorcycle cop came
home from his shift and stripped off his uniform.  He lay on his back and
pulled his legs back, offering his ass to his Greek-God lover.

This time there was no uniform, of course, and by now Mark was wearing only
his black tank top that he knew Jamie always found so sexy.  He knelt on
the bed, spat on his cock and pushed the head in the light fuzz of blond
hair round his ass.  You ready, dude?" Mark grinned.

"Yes please, sir."  This time Mark didn't even notice the `sir' or Jamie's
meek tone. He eased his cock past the sphincter and sighed loudly as he
pushed deep inside.  "Damn, I love fucking you, Jamie.  You look so perfect
lying there, my beautiful blond surfer taking my dick in his ass."

Mark reached behind his own neck and pulled off his tank top.  Jamie's
normal reaction was to reach up and press his hands on the cop's bulging
pecs, dig his fingers in, then tweak his nipples.  But now he kept his
hands by his sides on the bed and smiled automatically up at Mark as he
increased the speed of his shaft driving in Jamie's ass like a piston.

It was Jamie's favorite thing to get butt-fucked by Mark, and this time too
the sight of the naked cop rising and falling over him, and the sensation
of his cock hammering his ass, gave him pleasure.  But he was unable to
respond with the same surge of joy as usual.  He lay there passively,
providing the stimulus for Mark but feeling less stimulated than usual
himself.

If Mark sensed this lack of response in Jamie it was only subconsciously,
as all his focus was on the fire in his cock.  When he panted, "You OK,
buddy?" Jamie smiled, "I feel great, sir."

"Shit," Mark groaned, "I am so stoked, man.  I built up such a head of
steam at Grady's place and your ass feels so hot I'm real close.  I know
you like a long fuck, but ..."

"It's OK, sir.  I'm close too.  I'll cum for you ... look."  Jamie often
climaxed without touching himself but now he grabbed his own cock and
stroked it hard until his breathing became heavy and he said, "I'm gonna
cum ... fuck me sir ... please cum inside me ..."

"Yeah!" Mark yelled, driving his cock in deep and feeling it erupt against
the warm membrane of the young jock's ass, as Jamie spurted jizz over his
own naked body.

After only a short pause to recover his breath Mark pulled out and lay face
down beside Jamie, his arm thrown across his chest.  Jamie was feeling
... what?  He couldn't tell, didn't have the energy to figure it out.  He
felt numb, especially when his mind wandered to the office and what he
would find there the next morning ... switching the light on as usual,
sitting at his desk as usual, turning on his computer and staring at the
screen ... as usual.

Now that Mark had cum and his adrenaline had slowed he became more aware of
his boy's strange mood.  He lay on his side facing him, his face propped up
on his elbow.  "You OK, Jamie?  You're kinda quiet, seem a bit down.
Anything you wanna talk about?"

Yes there was ... a million things ... but Jamie wasn't sure what.  He
wasn't sure what he was feeling, just a kind of weariness, a vague
depression.  Mark had raised him to be tough in body and spirit, so he
didn't know how to talk about this ... to confess his weakness to a macho
cop.

He was on the verge of blurting out something when Mark said, "You should
be feeling pretty good about yourself, Jamie.  Bob tells me you're working
real well in the office, real hard.  Says the construction company's fiscal
year ends soon so you've got all that tax stuff to get together.  That's a
shit load of work, so you better get a good night's sleep.  You're probably
tired is all."

"Yeah prob'ly," Jamie murmured.

"I'm real proud of you, Jamie, all your hard work and stamina.  It's what I
admire about you – your dedication to your job, your ability to stand
the pressure.  I love that you're so tough, but if there's ever a problem
you just let me know, `cos I'm always here for you, you know that."

By praising Jamie's toughness and determination Mark had unknowingly made
it impossible for Jamie to tell him about the fatigue and depression he was
feeling.  So whatever Jamie had previously intended to say he now buried,
along with all his other feelings.

Instead he just mumbled, "Yes sir ... thank you sir," then put his arm over
Mark and fell asleep.

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

Next morning Mark had one of those crack-of-dawn shifts so when Jamie
stirred and instinctively reached out for him Mark's side of the bed was
empty.  A wave of near panic briefly swept over him and he felt more alone
than ever.

He cursed himself for not confiding his state of mind to Mark, but he had
been scared to show weakness to a tough cop who valued strength in a man
above all else.  He tried to shake off his melancholy by focusing on work
and the day ahead, but that only plunged him back in a deeper funk.

No, he had to be strong.  He got up and took a hot shower, then pulled on a
loose tank and the surfer trunks he always wore.  The feel of these clothes
made his heart leap as he fantasized about the beach and riding the waves.
His confusion was getting deeper as he went across the garden to the
kitchen to grab some fruit and coffee from the twins, who greeted him in
their usual upbeat way.

He grunted something inaudible as if he had hardly noticed them and stomped
out.  The twins frowned at each other in alarm.  They had inherited the
sensitive antennae of their master Bob and knew instantly that something
was seriously wrong.  Kyle said to Kevin, "Dude, we gotta say something to
Bob as soon as he comes in for breakfast."

Jamie went across to the office, unlocked the door, switched on the light
and sat at his desk, all of which he did mechanically as he had done
hundreds of times before.  Usually Brandon was working with him but today
was his day up at the Grady House to work on the books in their office.
Jamie saw the pile of folders beside his computer as he switched it on and
clicked on the spreadsheets with all the tax data he had to get in order by
the end of the month, which was approaching fast.

He took a deep breath and began, looking numbly at the columns of figures
and shuffling them around aimlessly.  They blurred into each other and he
looked up from the screen, seeing on the wall a framed picture of himself
surfing that Mark had taken of him.  He stared at it longingly, just as the
door opened and Bob came in looking agitated.

"Morning, Jamie.  Look, I just got off the phone with Randy after a
... heated discussion.  Work is slowing down on the main construction site
so he wants to bring the new site online right away, which means he needs
that cost analysis we had put on the back burner ... wants it by noon.  I
know you're already running behind on the taxes but I'm afraid that'll have
to wait.  I've already called Brandon to get back down here and it'll mean
all of us working late, I'm afraid.  So can you pull that file up right
away?"

"No."  Jamie hardly recognized his own voice as he stared blankly at the
screen.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no."  Jamie stood up and faced Bob, his voice getting louder.  "I
said fucking no ... no ... I can't.  Fuck the file, fuck Randy, and fuck
you.  I've had it ... up to here with the fucking taxes and the figures and
the demands.  I'm done ... done with everything."

Startled, Bob saw a crazed look in Jamie's eyes that he had never seen
before and he knew instantly that something had snapped.  "Jamie," he said
calmly, "what's happened?  Tell me.  Let's go and get some breakfast and
talk about this."

"What part of `no' don't you understand, man?  I'm not gonna talk, I'm not
gonna get any fucking breakfast, or do the taxes, or do Randy's bullshit
work.  I'm done ... finished ... I quit.  Get out of my way."

Bob stood barring the door.  "Jamie, you can't leave like this.  Take a
deep breath and calm down and we'll ..."

"I said get out of my fucking way!" Jamie yelled.  He grabbed Bob's arm and
yanked him away from the door.  Bob was surprised by Jamie's manic strength
but he held on and there was a short scuffle that ended in Jamie hurling
Bob against the wall.  In a blind fury Jamie crashed out of the office,
sprinted across the garden and out to his truck, leaving Bob stunned and
dazed, crumpled on the floor.

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

Brandon had left the Grady House as soon as he received Bob's phone call to
get back to the office.  As he drove his handicap-modified truck down the
hill a truck sped past him in the opposite direction.  Despite the quick
glimpse Brandon saw the surfboard in the back so knew it was Jamie and
instantly sensed that something was very wrong.

At the gate of the house he lowered his wheelchair from the car, unfolded
it and eased himself in. Quickly he wheeled into the garden and up the ramp
to the office door that swung wide open.  His heart missed a beat as he saw
Bob on the floor in the corner trying to pull himself to his feet.

Brandon wheeled up to him and said, "Please, sir, stay where you are.
There's a cut on your forehead."  He pulled a towel out of his saddle-bag
and pressed it on the bleeding wound.  I'll go get the twins and call
Randy.

Bob reached up and grabbed his wrist.  "No, Brandon, don't call Randy.
There's a problem with Jamie and Randy would go ballistic.  Call Mark and
see if he can get off work."

Brandon found the twins cleaning out the pantry, which is why they had not
seen or heard anything of the scuffle in the office.  They rushed to the
office to tend to Bob while Brandon called Mark's private cell phone.  He
was on a coffee break and Brandon said, "Sir, there's a problem with Jamie
and Bob.  Far as I can tell they had a disagreement and I think Jamie hurt
Bob and then took off.  Can you come, sir?"

"Bob's hurt?  OK, kid, I'm on my way."

The twins helped a dazed Bob to the kitchen where they cleaned the cut on
his forehead while Brandon poured him a brandy.  In an amazingly short time
they heard Mark's motorcycle pull up outside and the uniformed cop rushed
in and knelt by Bob.

"Jesus, man, what happened.  How bad are you hurt?  Let me take a look."
He removed the gauze pad the twins had put on it and inspected the wound.
"Not a deep cut.  No stitches needed.  Guys, get some antiseptic, fresh
gauze and a Band-Aid.  OK, buddy, are you up to telling me what happened?"

"Mark, it wasn't Jamie's fault.  If anyone's to blame it was me for piling
so much work on him and not recognizing the signs of burnout.  He was up to
his eyes in tax stuff and then Randy demanded something else right away.  I
guess Jamie snapped and ... and he left."

"But what about this, man, this cut?  Did he do that?"

Bob sighed, "There was a scuffle ... I handled it badly, he shoved me and I
fell awkwardly is all."

"Don't sugarcoat this, man.  My boy attacked you and injured you.  He's not
gonna get away with that.  Brandon, have you any idea where's he's gone?"

Brandon looked uncomfortably from Mark to Bob to the twins.  "It's OK,
Brandon," Bob said. "You won't be betraying your friend's confidence.
You'll be helping him in the long run."

"Well, OK sir."  Just as I got here he drove past me like a bat out of hell
in the opposite direction.  And, er, his surfboard was in the back of his
truck.  Looks like he was going to the beach."

Mark glared at Brandon.  "OK, you guys work together all day so you must
know what route he takes.  Come on, boy," Mark barked, "tell me, dammit,
and it better be the truth."

Brandon winced and Bob sprang to his defense.  "Mark please.  Leave Brandon
alone, this is not his fault."  Mark's eyes blazed and Bob said gently,
"OK, tell him, Brandon."

Brandon knew Jamie's route well.  "He basically takes Mulholland all the
way to the 405, sir."

Mark spun round prepared to leave but, for the second time that morning,
Bob tried to bar the door.  "Mark, this was not Jamie's fault.  Please go
easy on him."

Mark's anger was mounting and he prodded Bob in the chest. "Don't tell me
how to treat my own boy.  I trained him to be tough and I won't tolerate a
fucking pussy-face tantrum like this.  You may be a softy, too scared to
punish a boy who needs it, but I'm a cop, I know how to treat a kid like
him.  Dammit, he's lucky I don't cuff him and throw his ass in jail on
assault charges.  Now get the hell out of my way."

"Mark, please, you're in no mood to go off and ..."

"I said get out of my way, asshole!"  Mark yanked Bob away from the door,
threw him against the wall and strode out of the room, ignoring Bob's cry
of pain behind him as he strode out to his bike and roared away.

The twins ran up to Bob and Kyle said, "Are you OK, sir?"

Bob rubbed his shoulder, "Hurts a bit, probably bruised but that's all."
He grinned ruefully.  "Kind of goes with the cut on my face.  Hell, first
the boy then the master.  I must have a target on my back today.  What a
fucking mess."

Brandon tried to be practical.  "Sir, I know all that stuff Jamie was
putting together for the taxes.  We worked on it together.  Shall we go and
take a look?"

Bob smiled at him.  Brandon, I love your calm common sense, kiddo, just
what we need.  You're a good boy ... sorry Mark was rude to you."

"Oh, he was just anxious about Jamie, sir.  I don't take it personally."

"OK, let's go take a look at the tax stuff and I'll tell Randy he'll just
have to wait for his cost analysis.  That won't please him any.  Shit, I'll
have to explain all this to him too.  Leave that to me, boys.  I'll have to
downplay it or he'll go apeshit, blaming Jamie, Mark and everyone in sight.
Ah well," he grinned, "just another perfect day in paradise."

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

Jamie drove blindly up to the crest of the Hollywood Hills and turned right
on Mulholland Drive headed west toward the ocean.  As his panic eased a
little he took a deep breath and remembered Mark's advice never to drive
when angry.  He realized he was driving dangerously and slowed to a normal
pace.  The scenic drive along the spine of the hills helped calm him, with
its panoramic views of the city on one side and the valley on the other.

As his adrenaline stopped racing, replaced by a semblance of common sense,
the memory of what he had done came haltingly back – the mass of figures
on his computer swirling before him ... standing up and yelling at Bob
... insulting him and Randy ... scuffling with the man he loved and admired
... throwing him against the wall and rushing blindly from the office.

"What the hell had he done, and why had he done it?  What had he been
thinking?  Truth was, he hadn't been thinking, he had lost his mind.  And
he wasn't thinking straight now.  He focused on the beach, the waves, the
freedom.

Then, almost immediately, he flashed on the image of the man he loved,
worshipped.  Mark ... what would Mark think?  Jamie remembered the night
before when Mark had made love to him, and praised him.  His exact words
now rang in his mind – "I'm real proud of you, Jamie, all your hard work
and stamina.  It's what I admire about you – your dedication to your
job, your ability to stand the pressure.  I love that you're so tough."

But that's just what Jamie had not been – he had not been tough, he had
crapped out, caved under pressure, and he knew how Mark would react.  Mark
thought like a cop, and in the past when Jamie had misbehaved, the cop had
come down heavily on him.  Mark was a law and order man – and Jamie had
broken the laws and disobeyed the orders.

And worst of all, Jamie had hurt Bob, the man Mark loved.  How badly?  Was
he unconscious, was he dead?  Hey, get a grip.  Jamie felt the panic
returning and stifled it by focusing on the beach and the waves.

It was about ten miles along Mulholland Drive to the 405 Freeway and he was
almost there, concentrating so hard on the goal ahead that he was unaware
of the motorcycle closing on him from behind.  What shocked him out of his
singular focus was the red light flashing in his rear-view mirror and the
wail of the police siren.

Startled, he looked up at the mirror and saw the motorcycle cop behind him.
What?  Was he driving so erratically?  Exceeding the speed limit?  And then
he knew.  It was Mark chasing him.  He had a sudden impulse to floor it and
outrun him, but instantly knew that was stupid and he mechanically did what
any driver would do – slowed down and pulled off to the side of the
road.

Scared as he was, there was a part of Jamie that felt relief ... relief
that Mark had followed him, relieved simply that Mark was here with him,
even though it was certainly to punish him.  He braced himself and was
surprised to see Mark open the tailgate of his truck, pull down the ramp,
wheel his bike up it and secure it on the flatbed.

He came round to the driver's side and said curtly, "Move over."  Jamie
slid over to the passenger seat, Mark got behind the wheel, did a U-turn
and drove back along Mulholland.

There was a heavy silence at first that made Jamie even more nervous as he
thought desperately of something to say ... explain? ... apologize? ... beg
for forgiveness?  He was confused, exhausted and remained silent.  But
finally Mark spoke.

"You know by rights I should arrest you for assault and battery after what
you did to Bob."

"Yes, sir," Jamie said meekly.  "Sir, how is Bob?"

"Lucky for you it's just a cut on the head – headache probably, maybe a
mild concussion."

Another silence, then, "Look, I'm not gonna even get into what happened.
Right now I'm so fucking mad and you've let me down so bad I just can't
look at you.  You hurt Bob for Chrissake, and when I got there and he tried
to protect you I fucking hit him too, and it's all your fault."

The injustice of that last statement registered only fleetingly on Jamie
and he remained silent.  "Right," Mark continued, "we're on Mulholland and
Steve's house is a few miles up ahead so I'm taking you there.  He's our
shrink and you sure need to have your head examined, so maybe he can make
some sense of all this."

Jamie felt relieved.  He instinctively knew that what he needed right now
was someone calm, a professional who has seen it all and would react
without emotion.  He liked and respected Doctor Steve and knew he would be
safe there, for now."

They arrived at the gate to his large house, Mark pressed the button and
they heard Tommy's voice on the intercom.  "Hey, Tommy, it's Mark.  I got
Jamie with me.  Open the gate."

"Yes, sir.  We hoped you would come."

As the gate swung open Jamie wondered what that meant, then remembered how
quickly news spread on the tribe's grapevine.  At the end of the drive
Steve and Tommy met them as they got out of the truck and Steve smiled. "No
need to explain, Mark.  Bob called and told me everything that happened.
He said you were both headed for Mulholland so I hoped you would think to
come here.  Tommy, why don't you take Jamie out to the pool and give him a
drink?"

Tommy knew the code of the boys of the tribe – that they all supported
each other no matter what – so he smiled, put his arm round Jamie and
guided him into the house.

"Tough day, eh, Mark?" Steve said gently.  "You know, I watched Jamie
yesterday up at Grady's place and I detected a kind of tension in him.  I
just never realized it had gone this far.  From what Bob says it sounds
very much to me like pressure of work ... burnout ... what we call nervous
exhaustion.  Creeps up on a guy and erupts with no warning."

"I don't care what you call it, doc, no boy of mine is gonna lose his cool
like that and fucking hurt a man like Bob.  "I'm gonna fucking ..."

"You're gonna `fucking' do nothing, Mark," Steve smiled gently, "not until
you've calmed down.  Would you like to come in for a drink?"

"Nah.  Sorry I spoke to you like that, buddy.  I gotta get back to the
house to check on Bob.  Did he tell you I hit him and ...?"

Steve chuckled.  "I got that bit from Brandon via Tommy.  You know how news
travels in this clan.  Apparently Bob bruised his shoulder and the twins,
in an overabundance of caution, put his arm in a makeshift sling.  He must
look like he's been in a train wreck, with a bandage on his face and a
sling on his arm.  So yeah, I think it would be a good idea for you to go
and make your peace with him.  We'll take care of Jamie here for as long as
he likes.  I know Tommy likes him a lot and looks up to him, so he'll be in
good hands."

"Thanks, Steve.  Man, you sure are the go-to guy in a crisis.  And you're
right, I gotta get back to Bob and ... well, you know ..."  They hugged
briefly, Mark went back to the truck, drove his bike down the ramp and
roared up the drive and out through the still-open gate.  Steve sighed,
went through the house and out to the pool where Jamie and Tommy were
sitting drinking beers.

"Good, good," Steve said.  "Er, Jamie, Mark has left to check on Bob and my
suggestion is that you stay here with us overnight, longer if necessary.
At some point you and I can talk this out if you want to, but right now I
want you to relax and not to worry.  The dust will settle on this as it
does on all things.  But this is all voluntary, of course, and your truck
is still here so you're free to leave whenever you want."

"Thank you, sir, but I'd like to stick around here like you say."

"Excellent."  Then Steve gave a meaningful look at Tommy.  "Tommy, I have
patients this afternoon and Lloyd won't be home till later, so I wonder if
you could keep an eye on Jamie and make sure he has all he needs.  I don't
want you to be alone too much, Jamie, do too much thinking.  So, er,
tonight, Tommy, I was wondering if Jamie could share your room.  There is
the spare guestroom, of course, but ..."

"No ... I mean sure, yes, of course," Tommy said hastily.  "Jamie and I
should definitely share my room ... that's if you don't mind, Jamie."

Jamie looked at the eager face of the handsome blond athlete whose
gymnast's physique was outlined under his gray T-shirt, and he smiled for
the first time that day.  "I think it's a great idea, doc.  I ... I'm glad
I'm here, sir."

"Perfect," Steve grinned, "then I'll leave you guys alone and go and
prepare for my first patient.  Enjoy each other's company.

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

When Mark had driven up the hill from the house his only thought had been
how his boy Jamie had hurt Bob.  But now, as he raced back down on his
motorcycle, that thought had ironically been replaced by the shameful irony
of how he, Mark, had similarly injured Bob in a fit of rage.  How could he
have done that to the man he loved, had always loved, and would have
protected against all threats?

He now recalled Bob's cry of pain that had rung in his ears as he raced out
of the kitchen after throwing Bob out of his way.  He must have been as
crazy as his boy Jamie.  It was as if master and boy had ganged up on the
man they both loved and admired.

When he arrived he rushed into the kitchen where the twins were working.
Bob's boys gave him a cool, accusatory look and Kyle said, "If you're
looking for Bob, sir, he's in the office with Brandon."

Without a word Mark ran across the garden to the office and burst in.
Brandon was seated in his wheelchair at Jamie's computer, with Bob standing
behind him looking over his shoulder at the screen.  His face still bore
the Band Aid over the cut on his forehead and his arm was resting in the
sling that twins had improvised out of a kitchen towel.

Bob looked up and asked with genuine concern, "Did you find Jamie?  How is
he?"

Breathlessly Mark said, "Yeah, I found him.  He's up at Steve's, probably
stay the night."

"Good, best place for him.  Steve will know what to do.  I'm glad you
thought to take him there."

"Bob, I ..."  Mark reached forward to touch him but pulled back, almost as
if he were afraid to hurt him again."

Brandon looked up at them and rolled back from the computer.  "Sir, maybe I
should make myself scarce and come back when ..."

"No, Brandon, it's OK.  Stay here and work on those numbers if you don't
mind."

"Oh I don't mind at all, sir.  I know exactly how to pull these figures
together."  He grinned playfully.  "Someone has to do the taxes.  And you
should definitely rest awhile, lie down.  You know – delayed shock,
concussion, all that good stuff."

Bob smiled, "Brandon, you're a rock, you know that?  What's that famous
Rudyard Kipling line ... `you can keep your head while those about you are
losing theirs'?"

"Good one, sir.  I don't always understand everything you say – like
this Rude Yard guy – but it sure sounds good."

Bob chuckled.  "You need to brush up on your English Lit, kiddo.  I'll make
sure Pete hears what a help you've been here.  He'll be so proud of you
– he's a lucky man.  But now I will go across to Mark's apartment and
relax for a while.  Call me on my cell if you need anything."

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

As they walked across the lawn to Mark's ground-floor apartment Mark
noticed that Bob was limping slightly and put his arm round his waist to
support him.  In Mark's bedroom Bob caught sight of himself in the mirror
and laughed.  "Man, I look like I survived a car wreck.  I really don't
think I need this sling the twins made ... bit over the top."  He pulled it
off.  "And the Band Aid can go soon too.  Just a scratch as they say in the
movies."

Mark was shifting uncomfortably.  "Man, I ... I don't know where to begin
..."

"Then don't begin, Mark.  You were understandably upset because of Jamie
and I was wrong in trying to stop you going after him.  But please believe
me that Jamie is not to blame in all this.  If anyone's to blame it's me
for piling so much work on the boy. I was thoughtless and should have
noticed the stress building up in him."

"Man, there you go again, taking the blame for everything and giving
everyone else a free pass."  Mark choked up.  "Shit, you are so fucking
... so good, and I yelled at you and hurt you.  Can I ... I mean is there
anything I can do to make amends, buddy?"

"Well ..." Bob grinned.

"Here," Mark said, "let me help you get into bed, you can rest up here for
a while."  He reached forward and pulled Bob's T-shirt off over his head,
then knelt down, took off his loafers and pulled down his jeans.  "Now get
on the bed, dude, and rest."

"Thank you Mark," Bob smiled, "but you're over-compensating.  You don't
have to care for me like I'm an invalid, which I assure you I'm not.  Huh,
next thing you know you'll be making love to me – not that there's
anything wrong with that.  But I do know what you need."

"You do?"

"Mark, I know you so well, and you'll never be able to shed that cop thing.
Law and order, crime and punishment.  In your world a guy commits an
offense, he gets arrested and punished.  Well, in this case you claim
you're the offender who should be arrested and punished.  We just have to
find an arresting officer, judge and jury."

"Yeah, I sure need to do penance, you're right there.  But if this is going
where I think it is, you are in no shape to take on the roles of arrester,
judge and jury."

"I'll be the judge of that, buddy.  Here's how I see it.  So far you have
been the macho cop throwing his weight around, so I think you should be
knocked off the power trip – I believe you need that, am I right?"

"I sure need to make amends to you, buddy, but you're not ..."

"Oh stop it, I'm just fine.  Except that, after being knocked around by you
and your boy, I need to make sure that all the moving parts are in working
order.  And there's one sure way to do that.  First of all, we need to
switch positions.  You think you're so big and tough, but what you need,
officer, is to be topped."

Bob jumped up off the bed in just his white boxer shorts, and he pushed the
uniformed cop down on the bed.  Mark gazed up at the near-naked muscle-god
with his dark, superman looks.  "Now let's see here," Bob said, running his
hand over the bulge in his shorts.  "Hmm, no permanent damage there it
seems.  What do you think?"

He dropped his shorts and his cock sprang out hard and proud.  "Oh shit,"
Mark groaned.

"OK," Bob smiled, "I know you're a working cop and you have to get back to
your interrupted shift, so we'll skip the details.  I happen to know you
look great naked but there's no time for that.  Let's cut right to the
chase, uh?  You need to get punished, officer."

Bob reached down to the cop lying on the bed, unbuckled his heavy belt and
pulled his uniform pants down just below his ass.  He knelt on the bed,
grabbed the cop's long shiny boots and pushed his legs up high.  "And
seeing as how you hurt me, I think a dry fuck is in order.  No time for
pussyfooting around with lube anyway.

He pressed his cock against Mark's ass and said, "Brace yourself, officer.
This is the price you pay for police brutality."

"Aaagh!" The cop gasped as the long, dry cock speared him, pulled back and
plunged deep again.  Mark groaned, "Yeah, fuck me, man.  Fuck me hard, hurt
me, I deserve it."

Bob slammed in hard several more times – and then suddenly he was still,
his cock buried deep, and he laughed.  "You tough guys are something else
... the cop, the construction boss, the Marine.  You can all be so
primitive with your fights, your rivalries, retaliations and macho
posturing.  Do you really think I want to hurt you as payback for losing
your temper with me?

"I love you, Mark, plain and simple – warts and all.  Not that you have
any warts," Bob chuckled.  "I understand your pain about Jamie and the way
you reacted.  So why on earth would I make it worse by taking some weird
kind of revenge?  I don't want to add to your pain, Mark."

"Does that mean you're not gonna fuck me?" Mark asked plaintively.

"Mark, look in the mirror on that wall.  You'll see a gorgeous cop in full
inform, and a naked man with his cock in the cop's ass.  Greek God statues
are usually naked, maybe a fig leaf, and I seriously doubt that any Greek
God ever wore a cop uniform, but if he did that's exactly what it would
look like.  And the naked man fucking him bears a passing resemblance to
Superman, don't you think?"

"The spitting image," Mark grinned.

"The optics are spectacular, Mark, and I'm damned if I'll let that go to
waste.  So, sure you're gonna get fucked, officer.  You're gonna get fucked
good."

And so Bob made love to Mark.  He leaned forward, pressed his palms on
Mark's black shirt and felt his pecs flex under the rough serge.  Mark
reached up and ran his hands over Bob's sculpted torso, his shoulders,
arms, chest and down the cleft between his pecs to the ridges of his
washboard abs, while Bob's cock slid in and out of his ass.

"Man," he groaned, "you are so fucking beautiful, inside and out.  I can't
believe I hurt you, Bob.  I am so sorry."

"Enough of that, Mark.  I just want to hear one thing while I'm fucking you
– that you love me."

"Of course I do, buddy.  I love you ... I love you ..."  And Mark kept
repeating it as the soft brown eyes smiled down at him and he surrendered
his ass to the exquisite feeling of the man's shaft driving inside him."

"You in that uniform," Bob smiled.  "First time I ever laid eyes on you you
looked like that, the stern cop, and here you are, in your uniform, lying
beneath me and I'm fucking your ass.  You look so fucking hot and I'm so
fucking close.

"So here's your punishment, officer.  When you go back on your shift,
patrolling the city astride that throbbing bike, heads will turn and look
at the gorgeous cop as they always do.  But only you will know that your
pants are wet with your own jizz, and your ass is full of the semen of the
man you love.  You ready, officer?"

"Damn, my nuts are bursting, man."  Mark stroked the bulge in his pants.
"Cum inside me, buddy.  I wanna feel your juice in my ass for the rest of
the day.  God, I love you, man.  Here it comes ... fuck ... oh fuck
... yeah ..."

Staring into each other's eyes they climaxed together, Mark blasting cum in
his pants and Bob pouring his into the cop's hot ass, the balm of
forgiveness between two men in love.

For long minutes they smiled at each other in silence, then Bob said, "Time
you got back on the beat, officer."

He pulled out and they got off the bed.  As Mark pulled up his pants,
zipped up and buckled his belt Bob said, "Just one thing, Mark.  As I've
said before, Jamie was not at fault here.  He was in a lot of pain, and
still is emotionally, wondering what you'll do to him.  So before you see
him tomorrow, speak to Steve first."

"I will, buddy.  I'm glad he's with Tommy, a guy his own age.  They kinda
go well together."  Mark hugged Bob tight – "I love you, man" – then
smoothed his uniform and checked himself in the mirror before leaving the
room.

As Bob heard his motorbike roar to life he sighed.  And now, he thought, to
break all this to Randy.  Better tiptoe through that one.  No knowing how
he'll react.

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

So, in the overheated drama of Mark and Jamie, at least the cop had been
calmed down, thanks to Bob's diplomacy and sexual persuasion.  And
meanwhile, the anxieties of the other party in the dispute, Jamie, were
being soothed by Tommy at Steve's house.

Lying by the pool on adjoining chaises they had chatted for a while but
Tommy knew that his words could have little effect.  Talk was Doctor
Steve's area of expertise.  So instead he diverted Jamie from his troubles
by physical distractions, much as Bob had used on Mark.  And it was not
hard for Tommy to distract.

Tommy had a dual image in the house.  The formal image was as the poised
house manager, in his casual uniform of tight black pants and gray T-shirt,
designed by Steve's lover Lloyd to show off his musculature and especially
his flawless ass, a product of his years as an ice-skater.  The second
image, much less formal, was as Tommy the blond gymnast, with his flawless
physique and classically handsome face.

And Tommy now proceeded to transition from the formal to the informal.  He
stood up and said, "This sun is hot.  I gotta jump in the pool, dude."
Tommy stretched his arms, cracked his neck, then reached back over his
shoulders and pulled off his T-shirt.  From his chaise Jamie watched as the
shirt pulled free of the pants, cleared the gymnast's razor sharp abs, then
the perfect mounds of his pecs.

Stripped to the waist in his tight black pants Tommy stretched again and
Jamie grinned, "No doubt about it, dude, when it comes to perfect bodies
gymnasts have everyone else beat hands down.  So fucking sexy."

Tommy smiled seductively as he kicked off his black loafers, unzipped his
pants and pulled them off.  In just black briefs he stood at the edge of
the pool, his back to Jamie.  Quickly he pulled down his briefs, giving
Jamie a fleeting glimpse of his ass before he dived into the pool.

When he surfaced he was grinning broadly, water streaming from his long
blond hair down his face.  "This feels perfect, buddy.  Come on in."  He
rested his arms on the side of the pool and watched Jamie pull off his
loose tank and drop his surfer trunks.  Tommy looked up admiringly at the
naked surfer jock with his muscular body, broad shoulders, long slim waist,
and beautiful face, all tanned golden.

Tommy laughed, "What you said about gymnasts may be true, Jamie, but if it
is, the blond California surfer is right up there with them ... stunning.
Only thing is, I've never known a surfer to be afraid of the water.  Scared
to get your hair wet, dude?"  Tommy reached up, grabbed Jamie's leg and
pulled him in the pool with a huge splash.

>From then on it was all physical as they grappled, wrestled, pulled each
other under the water and resurfaced laughing between deep breaths.  There
was a natural friendly rivalry between the two athletes, with no holds
barred, even crotch grabbing – especially crotch grabbing.  But even
these lusty young jocks tired eventually and Tommy pulled himself smoothly
from the pool and flopped face down on his chaise.

Jamie got out of the pool too, with water flowing over his eyes and
clouding his vision.  When he wiped his eyes dry he the first thing he saw
was Tommy's ass in all its glory.  The long muscular back sloped down from
broad shoulders, over the flared lats that tapered down to the tight waist.
And there, starting at the tan line the white globes began, arching
gracefully up in perfect mounds, then sloping under to the tan line at the
top of his thighs.

Jamie shook his head.  "Jesus, man, I've seen some bubble butts in my time
but ... wow.  This tribe seems to specialize in great butts but yours is in
a class by itself, dude. "

Tommy turned his head sideways and grinned up at him.  Jamie realized his
own cock was standing out stiff as a poker and he reflexively put his hands
over it.  "Dude," Tommy chuckled, "you shouldn't be embarrassed by a
beautiful schlong like that.  You're a hot fucking stud, man."

Tommy grinned.  "You know, there's a story about how Darius, with his
ten-inch rod, first met Pablo and his bubble butt.  Well, you know Darius.
Apparently he said, `Kiddo, my dick and your ass, a match made in heaven.'
Well I second that sentiment, right now."

Jamie's heart beat faster.  "You mean ...?  Yeah of course you do
... fucking yeah."  Jamie pushed Tommy's legs apart and knelt on the chaise
between them.  He pressed his palms on the firm white globes and pulled
them slightly apart.  "Wet cock enough or do you want lube?"

"Man, if you don't fuck my ass right now I'm gonna heave you off me and
hammer yours."

"Can't have that," Jamie grinned.  "OK, buddy."  Jamie launched a cob of
spit in the crack of his ass, then braced his hands on the small of Tommy's
back and raised up on his feet.  Arched over him, his cock pointing
straight down at his ass, he said, "Here it comes, dude."

Jamie's hips fell suddenly, his cock plunged in between the ass cheeks and
drove down to the fiery depths of the gymnast's ass.  "Oh fuck," Tommy
gasped.  "Yeah, fuck that feels good.  Oh man, fuck that ass ... give it to
me, dude."

"You got it, stud."  Jamie ploughed the ass long and hard, leaving all his
troubles behind as he entered a fantasy world where athletes fucked, where
a muscular blond California surfer held a beautiful gymnast trapped beneath
him and ramrodded his ass.

In his office Steve was writing up his notes on a patient who had just
left.  He looked up and, through a side window, saw the action by the pool.
He watched as Jamie went to town on Tommy's ass and the doc smiled to
himself with satisfaction.  Evidently his plan to use Tommy to distract
Jamie was working out even better than he expected.

By now Jamie had shifted his hands from Tommy's waist and had curled them
over his shoulders from behind as he jackhammered his ass.  "Man, your ass
is fucking beautiful," he yelled, "I wanna better shot at it, dude."  He
pulled back on Tommy's shoulders making him arch his back and heaved him up
until he was on all fours.

Tommy looked back over his shoulder at the young jock, his muscles rippling
as he fucked, his tangled blond hair whipping over his tanned, handsome
face.  "So damn sexy.  I wanna look at you, Jamie ... I wanna watch you
fuck my ass.  You look so fucking hot, man."

In this new position Jamie was able to drive in deeper, so deep that the
head off his cock passed over the inner sphincter, making the young athlete
howl.  "Yeah that's it, dude.  Fuck me like that."  Jamie teased the inner
sphincter with the head of his cock, driving Tommy wild, then pulled all
the way back and plunged in deep to tease him again.

All the muscles in Tommy's perfect physique were flexing hard, and he knew
he couldn't hold back much longer.  "Damn that feels ... it's gonna make me
cum.  Please, Jamie, cum in my ass ... let me feel it ..."

"Ready when you are, stud.  Your ass is a fucking furnace.  OK, here it
comes, dude.  You ready?"  Jamie pulled all the way back, paused, then gave
one last massive thrust and blasted his juice in the deepest chamber of the
fiery ass.  Tommy bucked, his muscles tensed and he looked over his
shoulder at Jamie and yelled, "You sexy mother fucker!  Yeaahh!" and his
cock erupted all over the chaise beneath him.

There was a stunned silence ... and then they started to laugh, like
schoolkids who've just discovered sex for the first time.  Jamie fell back
on his own chaise and they lay on their sides gazing at each other.
"Un-fucking-believable, Jamie.  Man you're good."

"Hey listen, dude," Jamie frowned.  "How about your lover Danny?  Is he
gonna be mad?"

"Are you kidding?" Tommy laughed.  "He'll jerk off when I tell him about
it.  And right now he's probably fucking Grady ... that guy can't get
enough.  And someday soon you, me and Danny will get together, after you
and Mark have sorted out ..."  Tommy winced and bit his tongue.

Jamie's face clouded over as he came down to earth and said.  "I'm scared,
Tommy.  What do you think Mark will do to me?"

"Sorry, dude, I was stupid to bring that up.  But while we're on the
subject there is one thing I know.  That cop is crazy in love with you,
dude, so he's never gonna hurt you.  Oh, he'll be pissed for a while ... he
is a cop after all ... but Steve knows you're not to blame and Mark will
listen to him.  Those two go back a long way to when the cop first came to
the doc for anger management therapy.

"But enough about that.  What say later this afternoon we work out together
downstairs in the gym?  I could show you a few of my gymnastic moves."

"Only if you let me show you some of my moves," Jamie grinned lasciviously.
"And you still want me to sleep with you tonight?"

"Dude, you are gonna be in my bed all night if I have to tie you down to
it."

"Hmm, now there's a thought."

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

Their boisterous laughter reached as far as Steve still working in his
office.  He looked through the window again and smiled.  Just then his
lover Lloyd sauntered into the office and said, "Hey, buddy, what's up?
You sorted out that whole Jamie rebellion mess yet?

Steve sighed.  "Well, let's see where we are in all this?  Bob has no doubt
made his peace with Mark in the time-honored way, but he still has to
explain the whole thing to Randy"

Lloyd grinned, "And that won't exactly be a walk in the park if I know that
hot-blooded gypsy brother of yours."

"Anyway," Steve continued, "Jamie seems to be temporarily distracted from
his problems by Tommy – just look out the window.  But he still can't
avoid the confrontation with Mark.  I'll explain to Mark that this is not
Jamie's fault ... it was an impulsive reaction to workplace stress –
burnout, nervous exhaustion.  But Mark being Mark ... Jesus, what is it
with cops?  They're all so rigid – so crime and punishment – and Mark
will think he has to punish Jamie in some way."

Lloyd ran his finger though Steve's hair and grinned, "Yeah, but you'll
come up with something, buddy, you always do.  I bet you've hit on a
suitable punishment already."

"Well ..." Steve grinned slyly, "I'm working on it, dude, I'm working on
it.  See, Mark's default impulse is always to take it out on the boy
physically – you know, slap his ass, a real savage fuck, that kinda
stuff.  But I don't want Jamie to be hurt, he doesn't deserve it.  So ..."

"So ...? Lloyd smiled.

"So, I was thinking ... instead of a lot of physical rough-stuff, why not
the opposite?"

"I don't get it."

"You ever hear of a dame called Lysistrata?"

"Can't say I have."

"Google it."

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

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Part 394


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 invite 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.  Click on the `Our Story'
tab to read the current chapter, or click on the green button to browse all
the chapter synopses.  Enjoy

AND DON'T FORGET – if you enjoy these stories PLEASE DONATE to this
site.  Nifty needs your donations to provide these thousands of wonderful
stories.  So please go to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html and give what
you can.  The other authors and I thank you.  ... Rob