Date: Thu, 20 Oct 2011 02:52:38 -0400 (EDT)
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: A Trial Of Strength - Part 49  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 49
By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER Randy confronts Lloyd.  The rugged construction boss is
scornful of the immaculate, arrogant architect.  "Tell you the truth,
Lloyd, you're a pretentious prick and you piss the hell out of me.  You
wouldn't last a day on this site working for me."  Randy decides to "dirty
him up a bit".  "Wow," Darius says later.  "You sure did a number on the
architect, boss.  He's a fucking mess."

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

As I always say, guys, I welcome your comments and suggestions.  They can
be very helpful.  E-mail me at rw6789@aol.com.

ALSO, NOW YOU CAN VISIT MY WEB-SITE: You can read the whole story, all the
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There's even a picture of me!  Also, go to the Contact Us page and send me
your comments and story ideas. Have fun!

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

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - Part 49

The dry scorching Santa Ana winds brought a brutal heat wave to Los Angeles
and turned the construction site into a furnace.  Darius was Randy's
foreman that day and in the late afternoon he had stood back to mop his
face; he looked up and groaned to Randy.

"Uh-uh.  Look what the wind blew in, boss.  That's all we need."

Striding in through the gate was Lloyd, the architect the client had hired
for this job.  The man really got under Randy's skin.  He was not his kind
of guy at all.  Immaculately dressed in business suit and tie, he always
had a self-satisfied, arrogant look about him.  Sure, he was good looking
... tall, with short dark hair, square features, neatly trimmed moustache
and short goatee beard, and soft gray eyes.  Even under his elegant suit
his trim physique was evident.

Right from the start things had not gone well.  As usual Lloyd had begun to
give Randy construction advice, this time about a wall they disagreed on,
so Randy had scornfully suggested he show them how the bricks should be
laid.  In the intense heat Lloyd had stripped off his shirt and begun work.
Darius could not resist a muted "wow" as he saw the sculpted, shirtless
physique for the first time.

But it was not the rugged look of Randy.  It was the body of a gym regular.
The even, golden tan was evidently from a tanning salon, the hairless body
a result of waxing.  And the perfectly proportioned muscles were clearly
produced by hours at the gym.  He had condescendingly given his jacket and
shirt to Darius to hold for him, and Randy and Darius exchanged looks
tinged with sarcasm.

"Don't worry, kid," Randy said quietly.  "I think it's time to dirty the
guy up a bit."

In an effort to help with the brick-laying, Randy leaned forward toward
Lloyd against the wall and as he reached upward their chests pressed
together, sweat oozing between them.  As he reached even higher his armpit
pressed into Lloyd's face.  The man gasped for breath and took in the sour
smell of the construction boss's sweat.  His mouth was full of the wiry
hair of the stinking armpit and he could actually taste the acrid sweat as
it trickled down his throat.  He started to choke and Randy pulled back.

 "Oh, sorry about that, Lloyd.  Occupational hazard when you work in
construction.  In this heat we all sweat like pigs.  Here, use this to dry
off."

He quickly pulled off his drenched tank top and threw it at Lloyd.  The
architect caught it and, without thinking, wiped it over his face.  But
instead of drying him off, the soaking rag just spread more of Randy's
sweat across his face.  He felt the liquid ooze over him and he gagged on
the rancid smell.

And things went downhill from there.  Darius grinned as he watched his boss
introduce the preppy architect to the rigors of working on a steaming hot
construction site.  But, inevitably, Randy finally lost his cool.

"You know, Lloyd.  I don't think you're cut out for this.  Better you stay
at your drawing board in your air-conditioned office.  This out here is
man's work.  We're used to the smell of sweat."

Lloyd bristled.  "Oh yeah?  I'm no stranger to manual work.  I sweat plenty
at the gym."

"OK, I'll level with you, Lloyd.  You're a talented architect but your
attitude sucks.  Tell you the truth, you're a pretentious prick and you
piss the hell out of me.  You wouldn't last a day on this site, especially
with me as the boss."

"You think not?  Listen, man.  I'm as tough as any of the guys here, even
you. In fact I could teach you a thing or two about construction."

"That sounds like a challenge, Lloyd.  OK, tell you what.  Stay here for
the rest of the day and we'll see what you've got.  Think you can handle
it?"

"You're on!"

Randy turned to Darius.  "OK, kid.  It's nearly four o'clock.  The guys are
dragging in this heat so let's call it a day.  Tell them to finish what
they're doing and then cut out of here.  You too."

Darius took Randy aside.  "Aw, boss.  Can't I stay and watch?"

"No kid.  This is between me and pretty-boy there.  Go home and fantasize
and when I get home I'll tell you how close you came to the real thing."

He turned back to the young architect.  "OK, Lloyd.  Let's find some real
clothes for you to wear.  We've got work to do."

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

Randy strode over to his trailer office, closely followed by the confident
architect.  Inside Randy went to a pile of dirty clothes in the corner.

"Here.  These were waiting for the laundry, so they're pretty filthy, but
these should fit you."

He tossed a pair of his old work pants, grimy with dirt, oil and sweat.
Lloyd was taken aback and hesitated.

"Come on, man.  You can't work in those dress slacks.  They're already
covered in dirt.  So put these on."  He stood there looking at Lloyd, his
arms folded across his chest.  As he had intended, Lloyd was intimidated.

"Here?" he grimaced.

"This isn't the gym, Lloyd.  No locker room here.  This is as close as it
gets."

He watched as Lloyd kicked off his loafers and lowered his pants.

"Shorts too, Lloyd.  Otherwise they'll get soaked with sweat.  Don't need
anything under those pants."

Lloyd stepped out of his shorts and suddenly regained his composure.  He
looked up and, once again, an arrogant expression crossed his face.  He
stood naked before Randy and, with a slight smile, stretched his arms out
as if to say, "Here it is, man.  Not bad, uh?"

For a brief moment Randy was thrown off balance as he looked at the trim,
perfectly proportioned body before him, gym-honed muscles gleaming with a
sheen of sweat.  He was a looker, that's for sure, but too clean-cut, too
smooth, too studied for Randy's taste.

As Lloyd pulled on the old cargo pants Randy tossed him a pair of boots and
he was ready for work.  But even stripped to the waist in these muddy pants
and boots he still didn't look like a construction worker.  Muscular,
handsome for sure, but too clean by a mile.

Randy picked up Lloyd`s discarded pants, shorts and shoes.  "Hell, these
are pretty banged up, Lloyd.  Come with me."

As they stepped out of the trailer the heat hit them in the face like a
blast furnace.  The crew had all left and Darius was about to go through
the gate but Randy called after him.

"Darius, what did you do with the gentleman's jacket and shirt?"

"They're right here, boss."

"OK.  Take them and these pants and drop them off at the dry cleaners on
your way home.  Can't let the gentleman leave here wearing sweaty clothes.
And while you're at it, put a shine on the shoes for the architect."

"I'll get right on it, boss," said Darius scooping up the clothes.  He
exchanged a knowing look with his boss, and wished again that he could stay
and watch.

Lloyd frowned as he watched all this and called out, "Hey, boy.  Wait a
minute.  Those are my best clothes you've got there."  But Darius had
already disappeared through the gate.

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

Randy rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation.  "OK, Lloyd.  Let's
start with this.  There's a small slab of concrete here that's been bugging
me.  Needs to be broken up but I'm reluctant to use the drill because the
wall here would be weakened by the vibration.  So we'll just have to use
the picks."  He lifted up a heavy pick axe and tossed one to Lloyd.

"Know how to use one of these, Lloyd?"

Lloyd's look was scathing.  He raised the axe high and brought it crashing
down on the slab.  Soon both men were swinging their axes hard on the
concrete, trading blow for blow.  Darius would have loved to watch this.
The two beautiful bodies, stripped to the waist, flexed with exertion,
their muscles straining and sweating in the grueling late afternoon sun.
The men frequently looked up and exchanged glances, challenging each other
to keep up the pace.

Sweat poured off their bodies, streaming down to their waist and soaking
their pants.  Their hair was matted to their foreheads and their breathing
became ragged as their muscles strained and suffered with the intense
effort.  Deep down, each man subconsciously acknowledged that the other was
a magnificent sight.  Randy, the raw, rugged laborer with the glorious body
hewn of hard manual work.  Lloyd, the arrogant, clean cut yuppie with the
smooth, perfectly proportioned body of the gym.

Lloyd finally paused and said, "Where's the bottled water?  We don't want
to get dehydrated."

"It's here," Randy said, picking up the hose and raising it up to his face.
He turned it on and drank from the water that splashed down into his mouth,
over his face and down over his chest.  He handed it to Lloyd who, after a
moment's hesitation, did the same thing.  With water flowing down his body
he looked defiantly at Randy.

"Before we start again Lloyd," Randy said, "let me show you what you're
doing wrong.  You're not holding the axe right."

He came up against Lloyd's back, wrapped his arms round him and grasped the
handle.  "Here, see?  Your hands should be higher up.  You get a bigger
swing that way, more force."  He deliberately pressed against the naked
back and his crotch pushed against the ass.  He heard Lloyd take a sharp
intake of breath and felt the back relax into him.

There was a silent moment as Randy pushed against him, but then Lloyd
pulled away and swung round.  His eyes met Randy's indignantly and he was
about to speak, but checked himself.  Randy lowered his gaze to the bulge
in Lloyd's pants and smiled.  Lloyd actually blushed, then abruptly turned
away and resumed hammering angrily at the cement.

"Hmm," Randy thought.  "The man has a temper ... and a hard-on."

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

It was not long before the cement block was a pile of rubble and Randy had
turned his attention to another project he had been putting off for days.
Two heavy metal frames needed to be bolted together.  They were horizontal
to the ground and could have been pushed upright but Randy had other ideas.

"OK, Lloyd.  One of us needs to push down hard on the frames from above and
hold the bolt while the other screws on the nut from beneath.  So get on
your back under the frames."

There was a moment's hesitation but Lloyd was grimly determined to
demonstrate his toughness so he slid under the frames, his naked back
pressed into the dirt.  Randy leaned forward over the frames and pressed
down hard, squeezing them together.  He was parallel to the ground a few
feet above the architect.  Lloyd grabbed a wrench and began to turn on the
screw on the end of the bolt.

Despite his concentration on turning the tight screw Lloyd looked up at the
big, shirtless construction worker looming over him.  Randy was applying
all his strength to keeping the frames tightly locked and his body flexed
and strained with the intense effort.  Lloyd saw the chiseled pecs, broad
shoulders and bulging biceps as the swarthy face stared down at him.

Then he felt it.  As the burning afternoon sun beat down on him Randy's
straining body was already gleaming with sweat but now it started to pour
off him.  Lloyd felt the first drip, then another, and soon a stream of
stinking hot sweat was raining down on him.  It ran off Randy's face, his
neck and whole torso and down onto Lloyd's own naked chest.

Randy shifted higher and the torrent of sweat poured down on Lloyd's face.
It stung his eyes, filled his nostrils with the rancid smell and even
flowed into his mouth when he opened it to take a breath.  Lloyd was
simultaneously revolted and mesmerized by the sight, the smell and the
taste of this massive, greasy body looming over him, soaking him.

"That's it, Lloyd" Randy said, "we're almost there.  You OK?"

"Yeah," stammered Lloyd, taking in another gulp of sweat.

"I just need to edge up a bit higher," Randy grunted.  There."

Now Lloyd choked.  It was Randy's armpit that was immediately above his
face and that's where the sweat now came from, streaming down onto his
face.  He saw the tangle of black armpit hair glistening wet and watched,
smelled and tasted the stinking liquid running down onto his face.  The
smell was overpowering.  He was disgusted.  But worst of all, something he
could not understand, he felt his cock get stiff in his pants.

They were almost finished when the nut jammed.  Lloyd pulled at it with the
wrench but it wouldn't budge.  "Nearly there, but we need to lubricate it a
bit," he panted.

"You got it," Randy said and reached over for a can of oil.  He began to
pour it over the bolt so it would flow down to the nut.  But he poured too
quickly and smiled with satisfaction as the oil flowed over the bolt and
the nut, down onto the sweat-soaked naked chest beneath him.  He shifted a
bit higher so the oil began dripping onto Lloyd's face.  He turned his head
quickly to shield his eyes but the steady drip of oil fell onto his
forehead, check and neck.

"That's got it!" Randy said as the nut finally came to rest, snug against
the frame.  "OK, Lloyd.  We're done."

Lloyd eased himself painfully from under the frame and rose unsteadily to
his feet.  Randy stood back and smiled at the filthy, shirtless man, his
beautiful body coated with dirt, sweat and oil.

"Shit, man," he said.  "You're starting to look like one of us."

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

And so the afternoon dragged on into the evening until the brutal sun
mercifully went down.  Randy kept up the grueling pace until he could see
that Lloyd was exhausted. The man's chest heaved and the veins stood out on
his naked torso and arms after the supreme effort he had made all
afternoon.

Randy had to grudgingly admire the architect-turned-construction worker as
he stood before him.  He looked completely different from the
smooth-skinned, clean-cut preppy who had earlier stripped off his shirt.

No doubt about it, Randy thought.  He's a fucking mess.  His neatly combed
hair was now a greasy tangle matted to his forehead.  The handsome face was
streaked with dirt, sweat and oil.  And his previously flawless chest was
coated in a crust of mud, grease and the stinking sweat of two men.

"Hungry?" Randy grinned.

"Yeah," Lloyd muttered.  His tone was an indefinable mix of resentment,
defiance, pride and, as he looked at the powerful construction worker, a
strange new feeling that even he could not identify.

They went into the trailer and Randy pulled a packet of sandwiches and two
beers from the small fridge he kept there.

"You keep beer on the site?" Lloyd asked, in a somewhat sanctimonious tone?

"Hell, yeah," Randy said.  "Couldn't get through the day without it.  Here,
drink up.  You know, Lloyd, you did pretty damn good today."

"Thanks," Lloyd said grudgingly.

"And you were right about the wall.  I suppose it could go higher.  I'll
start tomorrow."

"OK, but first I'd need to alter the plans a bit.  I could do that on the
drawing board here.  Should take just a few hours if you'd let me hang out
here after you've gone home."

As Randy munched on his sandwich he looked hard at the architect.

"So what's your story, Lloyd?  You got someone waiting for you at home?"

"Nope.  Live alone."

"Not married?"

"Divorced.  Didn't work out."

"So now you're married to your work."

"Pretty much."  Lloyd wanted to change the subject.  "So what about the
alteration to the plans?"

A slight smile came to Randy's face.  "Think you could take another day
like today, Lloyd?"

Lloyd was taken aback.  But he saw the challenge in Randy's eyes and was
damned if he would back down.  "You think I can't cut it, don't you?  Not
man enough, I suppose."  He took a deep breath.  "OK, fucker.  Bring it on.
I can take whatever you dish out."

"I was hoping you'd say that, Lloyd, `cause here's the plan.  We start
early ... six a.m.  So I leave you here now to work up the new plans and
then you crash on the couch here.  That way you'll be right on the spot
bright and early tomorrow.  You'll even get room service ... I'll bring you
breakfast from McDonald's.  Then we'll get right to work.  What d'ya say?
You can hardly go home looking like that anyway.

Lloyd hesitated.  He saw the logic in it but, hell, he was such a fucking
mess.  And he had no clothes here.  "Is there a shower on the site?" he
asked.

"Hell, this ain't the Ritz Carlton, Lloyd.  But there's a toilet out back."

There was something in Randy's challenging look that made it impossible for
Lloyd to refuse.  But it was more than that.  He was not only rising to the
challenge.  He realized that he wanted to prove himself to this incredible,
rugged alpha male.  He winced at his next thought.  Could it be that he
actually wanted ... to please him?"

Lloyd replied simply, "You're on."

So it was a deal.  On his way out Randy bent down and picked up from the
dirt his old tank top that Lloyd had used in a failed attempt to wipe his
face.  He tossed it to Lloyd.  "Here ... in case it gets cooler tonight.
In this heat it's dry now.  Stinks more than ever but it's better than
nothing."

And Randy walked off the site and headed home.

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

A few hours later Lloyd had finished the revised plans and helped himself
to another beer.  He leaned back and tried to focus his thoughts, but they
were a whirl.  He looked down at himself, sweaty, greasy, stinking, wearing
just filthy old dirt-caked cargo pants.

Images flashed across his mind.  First Randy, standing before him, stripped
to the waist, magnificent looking guy, but infuriating with that superior
grin of his.  Then he thought of Darius.  Why was he foreman?  He was
young, black, annoying.  Why had Randy chosen him for his assistant?  Hell,
I could do a better job myself, he thought.

For now, though, he was bone weary and his muscles ached.  But there was a
certain satisfaction in his exhaustion.  In fact he felt more alive than he
had felt in a long time.  The night had cooled off from the heat of the day
and there was even a chill inside the trailer.  He picked up Randy's
stinking tank top he had thrown at him and, without thinking, raised it to
his face.  He breathed in the rancid smell of Randy's dry sweat.  He pulled
it on over his head and smoothed it over his chest.

He threw himself down on the bed.  There he lay, in filthy clothes, body
smeared with dirt and oil, stinking of stale sweat, his nostrils full of
the smell of the big construction worker.  He fell into a deep sleep
... and dreamed dreams he could never have imagined ... until tonight.

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

At noon the next day Darius arrived at the site to begin his afternoon
shift.  It was another brutally hot day and the young black man stood
blinking in the sun.  He was amazed at what he saw.  In the thick of the
action was Lloyd, wearing grimy cargo pants, boots and Randy's sweaty old
tank top.  His face was streaked with what looked like grease and he was
sweating like a pig.  His sodden clothes clung to his body, his trim
physique clearly etched underneath.

"Thank God you're here," Randy said walking up to Darius.  "We need all the
help we can get today."

Darius was still riveted by the sight of Lloyd.  "Wow.  You sure did a
number on the architect, boss.  Hardly recognize him."

"Yeah.  Gotta admit, he's tougher than I thought.  But he's still got that
superior attitude, like his own shit don't stink.  I've come this close to
belting him several times."

Darius grinned.  "He doesn't like me much either.  Looks down on me.  He
makes that clear."

"He resents you," Randy said.  "He's jealous of you because you're young to
be a foreman and because you and I are close."

"And because I'm black."

Randy clenched his fists.  "If I thought that was part of it I'd beat the
crap out of him.  Anyway, back to work.  Here's the plan for today."  And
Randy put his arm round the young man's shoulder as he explained the
projects for the afternoon.

This was not lost on Lloyd.  He was acutely aware of the closeness between
the two men and Randy was right ... he resented it like hell.  The black
guy was just a kid ... much too full of himself.  How come Randy made him
foreman?

Randy interrupted his thoughts.  "Lloyd ... Darius is here now.  He's the
shift foreman so you'll be taking orders from him.  I have paperwork to do
in the trailer."  Lloyd shot a disdainful look at the young black man.

So the day wore on under the merciless sun with Darius in command.  Young
as he was, the crew liked and respected him.  He may be foreman but he was
one of them.  He worked harder than anyone and he was fair, even if he did
show some of Randy's toughness.  Lloyd did not share the crew's opinion.
He felt a real dislike, even bitterness, for the black man as he gave his
orders.  He chafed under his direction and felt demeaned by the situation.

His resentment finally boiled over.  The guys were straining to hoist a
beam into place and Darius was urging them on.  "Come on, guys.  Nearly
there.  You, Lloyd, put some muscle into it."

Lloyd's eyes flashed and he wheeled round to confront Darius.  "Get off my
back, boy.  Listen here.  I signed on to help Randy, not you.  Just because
he made you foreman you think you're one tough shit, don't you?  Well, I've
got news for you, asshole.  The only reason he made you foreman is `cause
you're his friend, though God knows why."

"Hey, man, I was just ..."  Darius protested, but Lloyd was in full swing.

"You black boys are all the same.  Just because you've got the body and the
strength, just because you got a horse dick swinging between your legs, you
think you're God.  Well don't get uppity with me, black boy.  See, I happen
to be a friend of the client on this project and I can get your black ass
fired just like that.  So get the hell away from me.  Take your big fucking
dick with you and jack off or something."

Darius took as step back as if he had just been sucker punched.  He winced
at the venom spewing out of Lloyd's mouth.  But his eyes widened for
another reason too as he looked over Lloyd's shoulder and saw a pair of
steel blue eyes blazing.

It happened in an instant.  Lloyd felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder
from behind.  It wrenched him round and he had a split second to see the
fury in Randy's eyes before the fist slammed into his jaw and sent him
spinning, crashing to the ground.  He sprawled in the dirt stunned.  As his
vision cleared he saw the terrifying sight of the big, shirtless
construction boss towering over him, his chest heaving with anger.

The rage in Randy's voice was chilling.  "You miserable piece of shit.  I
knew you were an asshole but I never took you for an arrogant, bigoted pig.
Before I punish you, Lloyd, let me make a few things clear.  First, this
man here is my foreman because he deserves to be.  Anyone who says
otherwise insults me as well as him.  He works damn hard and he's worth ten
of you, you prick."

"Also, Darius is my buddy.  And anyone who knows me knows that the worst
thing you can do to me is attack my friends.  You insult my friend, you
insult me.  And make no mistake, Lloyd.  You insult me and you get
punished."

Lloyd looked up from the ground in terror.  He had never seen anger like
this as Randy's eyes flashed at him and his massive, naked chest heaved.
Then, amazingly, he saw a grim smile spread over the face.

"But you got one thing right, Lloyd.  The size of his dick.  I'd guess
three times the size of yours.  Show him, Darius."

Taken aback Darius hesitated for a spilt second, until Randy flashed him a
knowing look. The young man recovered quickly from the verbal abuse,
grinned and unzipped his torn Levis.  His monster ten-inch dick flopped out
of his pants.  Lloyd's eyes grew wide at the sight of the huge piece of
meat hanging over him.

"You know," Randy growled, "I should use that to punish you, Lloyd.  It
makes a great weapon.  But I have another idea."  And he fell to his knees,
straddling the shaken architect.  He pulled Lloyd's arms down to his sides
and knelt on them, immobilizing him.  He unzipped his pants and pulled out
his long, thick dick that hung over the helpless, cringing face.

"I should really cram this down that vicious mouth of yours, asshole, but
I'm gonna spare you that."  The piercing blue eyes bored into the terrified
face as Randy planned his next move.

"Lloyd, you ever heard the phrase `Wash his mouth out with soap' when
someone says something really disgusting?  Well as you know we don't have
much call for soap around here, but I've got something that'll do just
fine."  He leaned forward and clamped his hands on the sides of Lloyd's
face, holding it like a vise.

"Open up, asshole."

Lloyd opened his mouth to plead ... at just the wrong moment.  He felt a
stinging stream of rancid piss pouring into his mouth and streaming down
his throat.  He choked it up but there was more to follow ... much more.
The stinking yellow liquid poured into his mouth and flowed out over his
cheeks and down his neck.  Another stream soaked his hair and face.  The
desperate architect coughed and spluttered but he had to swallow.  He could
not escape the bitter taste of urine pouring all over him.

Finally the flood of urine slowed to a trickle and Randy's eyes blazed as
he gazed down at the piss-soaked face.  Then he sprang to his feet.  "Get
up," he roared.  Desperate to avoid more humiliation Lloyd pulled himself
unsteadily to his feet and finally stood upright.  His face and naked chest
gleamed in the hot sun with piss, sweat and oil, all mixing together as
they flowed over his body.  He was a totally broken man.

"Hell, that felt good.  Was it good for you, Lloyd?"

Lloyd stared like a deer in headlights.

Randy bellowed, "I said, was it good for you, Lloyd?"

The architect stammered, "Ye ... yes, sir."

Darius grinned as he heard Lloyd use the word `sir' for the first time.  He
had known it would come eventually.  With Randy it had to.

"Yeah," Randy grinned.  "Pissing feels good.  You should try it Lloyd
... now, in fact."  There was a pause.  "I said now Lloyd!"

"Yes, sir."  Lloyd knew what he had to do.  As all the men looked on they
saw a stain slowly spread over the architects work pants, starting at the
crotch and growing larger as it travelled down his leg.  And there he
stood, in front of everyone, pissing his pants.  As Randy had promised, the
arrogant, elegant, immaculate architect had been well and truly "dirtied
up."  He stood stripped to the waist, his face and body covered with warm
piss, stinking sweat and filthy oil.  His pants were wet as his own piss
made them cling to his legs.

Randy looked at him with satisfaction.  "You're a fucking mess, Lloyd, you
know that.  And you stink.  You could use a shower.  What d'ya say?"

"Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir."

"OK, here goes."  Randy reached down and grabbed the hose.  Turning it on
full he aimed it at Lloyd who was blown back by the force of the water.  He
stumbled backward and fell in the dirt.  The heavy stream of water poured
relentlessly over him as he rolled over in the dirt, which quickly turned
to mud.  Through the spraying water he could see his muscular tormentor,
powerful, merciless, administering the final humiliation.

Suddenly the hose was turned off and Randy looked down at the soaking,
mud-caked figure cowering on the ground like a beaten animal.  He sneered,
"How'd that work for you Lloyd?  Now get the hell off my work site and out
of my face.  You're finished here."

As Randy strode away Darius stepped forward and spoke.

"Er, Lloyd.  I brought your suit and shirt back from the cleaners, neatly
pressed and laundered.  They're in your car.  And I polished your shoes
myself ... sir."

He ran off and caught up with Randy.  "Hey, boss, I gotta thank you for
sticking up for me.  You're the best, sir.  And you called me your friend!"

"Yeah," Randy growled.  "Well, don't push your luck, kid.  You piss me off
and you'll get the same treatment as the architect."

Darius grinned.  "I should be so lucky!"

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

That evening the three boys were making dinner and Darius was holding
court.  With his own inimitable mix of fantasy and hyperbole he was
regaling the other two with a colorful, detailed account of how Randy had
thrashed and degraded the architect, breaking him down to a filthy wreck of
a man.  The guys' reactions ranged from awestruck silence to raucous
laughter.

Things were more serious out at the dinner table as the three partners in
the construction company ... Randy, Bob and Mark ... considered the likely
repercussions of the afternoon.  Randy shook his head.

"Well that's it.  We sure as hell won't be getting any more contracts from
that client.  Once the pretty-boy architect goes whining to the owner he'll
probably pull this job out from under us too.  And we'll certainly never
lay eyes on Lloyd again."

Bob was thoughtful.  "Pity in a way.  I've been thinking that what our
company really needs is a full-time staff architect of our own.  I was
crunching the numbers and it makes a lot of sense.  Whenever we or the
client have to hire a high-priced architect it comes out of our fee.
Besides, if it was our guy you'd have complete control over him, Randy."

"As he apparently did with Lloyd," Mark grinned.  "Bob makes sense, though
Randy.  It's something we should think about."

"Whatever," Randy sighed wearily.  "It sure as hell won't be Lloyd.  That
asshole hates my guts."

Bob smiled at Randy.  "Are you sure about that, buddy?  There's a chance
he'll keep quiet and not go whining to his boss."

"You serious?  After what I did to him?  What would you do if I sweated and
pissed all over you, then hosed you down?

"Ask for more?" Bob grinned.

"Yeah, well that's just because you're one sick puppy," Randy smiled.  "Why
in the world would Lloyd keep quiet?"

"Buddy, you under-estimate yourself.  You're an incredible guy.  You don't
realize that most people who meet you fall in love with you a little ... or
a lot ... or a whole lot in some cases."

Randy put his arm round him and smiled.  "Fuck you, asshole."

"Well," Mark said.  "We'll just have to wait and see which of you is right.
Wait for the axe to fall."

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

They found out soon enough.  Dinner was the usual boisterous affair and
when it was over the six guys lounged at the dinner drinking more beer.
Over the din of voices the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," said Pablo and ran out of the room.  In a minute he came
back wide-eyed.  "There's a real hot guy at the door asking for Randy.
Says he wants to apologize."

Randy and Mark both looked at Bob.  "Shit, man,' Randy said.  "Why do you
always have to be so right?  Well, he asked for me, and that's what he'll
get," and he stood up.

Bob restrained him.  "No, buddy.  Let me handle this."

Randy looked down at Bob's soft brown eyes and gave in.  He sat down with a
gentle, "Fuck you, asshole."

Bob went out to the hall and there in the doorway stood a tall,
broad-shouldered man dressed simply in jeans and white T-shirt.  Pablo had
been right, Bob thought.  The man was hot.  Clean-cut, short black hair,
squared jaw, gray eyes and neatly trimmed moustache and goatee beard.
Their eyes locked in a long, silent gaze.

The newcomer seemed taken aback to see such a beautiful man as Bob, whom he
had never met.  "Oh," he stammered.  "I was looking for Randy.  Does he
live here?  I'm Lloyd."

Bob smiled.  "I'm Bob.  Come in, Lloyd.  We'd just finished dinner."

They went into the dining room and Lloyd stood rooted to the spot.  Round
the cluttered table were six stunning–looking men.  He had trouble
believing his eyes.  Bob broke into his trance as he made the
introductions.

"Randy and Darius you know already, of course."  Randy glared up at Lloyd
but stayed silent.  "The big guy's Mark, that's Pablo and that's Jamie.
Say hi to Lloyd, fellas."

Everyone except Randy looked up at the handsome newcomer and said in
unison, with barely concealed amusement, "Hi, Lloyd."  The architect was
dumbstruck as he looked in awe from one handsome face to the next.

As Randy watched Lloyd's gaze settle on each man in turn he thought to
himself.  "Yeah, and all you get to do is look, asshole.  They're all
gorgeous ... and they're mine.  You lay a finger on any of these guys and
you answer to me."

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

TO BE CONTINUED IN "A Trial Of Strength – Part 50."