Date: Fri, 20 Aug 2021 19:38:40 +0000 (UTC)
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 555  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH – PART 555 by Rob Williams

Chapter 555 – "THE COP & MARINE ON DESERT MANEUVERS"

IN THIS CHAPTER

On their way to Uncle Mike's house in the desert, the horny cop Mark and
his Marine buddy Hassan make a pit-stop to relieve their lust on their boys
in the back of their truck. Later the soldier and cop re-enact their old
wartime interrogation scene in a remote desert shack. But the young jocks
Jamie and Larry rashly intrude on the scene and end up as bound victims of
the uniformed men.

____________________________________________________________________

<><> IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER <><>

Randy had been injured in a fight and his broken arm was now in a plaster
cast and a sling. Doc Chad had prescribed complete rest for the arm, and no
work for a week or so.

Randy resisted the advice at first but had eventually agreed to go with his
lover Bob for a week's break, out at the sprawling Palm Springs home of
their good buddy Mike. The owner of a leather bar, he was generally known
as Uncle Mike as he was older and wiser than the rest of the guys.

Randy also made another suggestion – to young Will, the freckle-faced
redhead who was assistant chef to the tribe and loved nothing more than to
be in the kitchen.

"You're a terrific kid, Red ... and I've got a proposal for you.  You
probably heard that me and Bob, we're going out to Uncle Mike's place in
the desert to rest up and let this stupid arm heal.  We wanna thank Uncle
Mike for all he's done for us by treating him, Larry and the other guys to
a dinner party in his garden out there. And I want this dinner to be
special, kinda fancy – you know, real good food and wines, table all set
up like a fancy restaurant.

"I'm no good at all that high-class stuff, but I've heard great things
about the dinner parties you catered for other guys.  So, Red, I was
wondering if you'd like a trip out there with Bob and me, and do the
honors.  I guess I'm offering you a catering gig."

Will's freckled face lit up, his wide eyes blinking fast behind his
glasses.  "Sir, I'd love to do that for you and the guys.  It's what I do
best, makes me feel special."

Also staying at Mike's house were their friend Grady, the handsome
action-movie star, with his Italian lover Mario.  Because of his celebrity
and the need for privacy, Grady did not accompany the other guys to Mike's
bar.  He stayed at the house with Mike, and they had a long heart-to-heart
talk – the older man and the hot young actor.

Their mutual admiration turned sexual and they played out an erotic
fantasy, a scene from Grady's Tarzan movie where he is captured.  When it
was over a dazed Grady said, "That was epic, Mike. How did you get so good
at fantasy?"

Mike chuckled.  "Grady, I've been around the block many, many times and
I've picked up some talents along the way.  You are a pornographic icon,
dude.  That fantasy of a macho muscular Tarzan getting captured, tied up
and ass-tortured, is the stuff of dreams for many a hot-blooded male.  And
I actually got to live it, for real.

"Hey, one day, Grady, I'd love to work you over with my boy Larry. He'd go
apeshit – you know, the whole thing, maybe in his bike repair shop,
maybe him and me in leather, you streaked with grease, clothes ripped, tied
to a bike, sprawled over it, getting tag-teamed by two bikers."

"Stop, Mike," Grady laughed, "you'll get me going again.  Look I got
another boner already."

Will announced that lunch was ready and when Mike and Grady followed him to
the table they were greeted by the other guys with cheers and
wolf-whistles.  With Grady butt naked and Mike shirtless, the glow on their
faces could mean only one thing.

But soon the conversation turned to their plans for tomorrow, and the
much-anticipated arrival of their buddies – the cop Mark and his boy
Jamie; and the Marine Hassan and his boy Eddie. Larry asked, "Do you think
Hassan and Mark will go out to Hassan's little old house way out there in
the dunes?"

"And spend all their time in the basement," Bob said, "otherwise known as
the dungeon.  Those guys go back a long way as most of you know – way
back to the Mid-East war where Mark, then an army corporal, was captured
and interrogated by the Arab Hassan.  They fell in love/lust and, after the
war, Hassan followed Mark to this country and they've been kind of
replaying that scene ever since."

"With a little help from their friends?" Larry asked hopefully.

"It's been known," Bob smiled.  "It used to be a private affair, but a few
guys have seen it.  I wouldn't be a bit surprised if Eddie and his camera
intruded on the scene."

"He won't be the only one," Larry said with a wicked grin.

========= CHAPTER 555 =========

<><> DRIVING WHILE HORNY <><>

The prospect of a trip out to Uncle Mike's Palm Springs home was especially
welcome to the handsome motorcycle cop Mark and his boy, the young surfer
jock Jamie.  Although they lived together at the tribe's compound, they had
not seen much of each other lately.

Jamie had been busy at his exciting new job, working on the movie of their
friend, the heart-throb movie action-star Grady.  After three successful
Tarzan movies Grady had been cast to star in a lifeguard movie as the squad
captain.  So many scenes took place at the beach that they needed an expert
surfer to take charge of all the surfing action that involved Grady, the
cast and many extras. Grady had suggested Jamie, who was thrilled to land
the job of a lifetime.

But it meant many long days at the Malibu beach location.  On back-to-back
days of shooting it was more convenient to have the principals stay at a
Malibu hotel rather than drive across the city, and come back to the
location at dawn.  So Mark spent nights alone (and horny) for the first
time since Jamie became his boy.

On the night before they were due to leave for Mike's Palm Springs home,
Mark had pulled a night shift so it was Jamie who had spent the night alone
(and horny for his cop).  Next morning Jamie had got up early, packed up
their gear and some food.

"God, I missed you, Jamie," Mark said when he came in at last.  "With that
bike throbbing between my legs all night I had a permanent hard-on under my
uniform, thinking of you just like that, in your board shorts and that old
tank of yours."

Just then young Eddie ran in.  "Hey, you guys ready?  Hassan and me have
been waiting for you so we could drive out together."  Eddie, who also
worked on Grady's film, as an assistant cameraman, was the boy of the
rugged Arab Marine Hassan, and they too had been apart a lot lately for the
same reason as Jamie and Mark.

"We're all packed up and ready to rumble, sir," Jamie grinned.

"OK," Mark said.  "I won't stop to change out of this uniform, as long as
you've packed my clothes, Jamie.  Besides," he grinned, "the uniform helps
a lot if we get pulled over speeding.  Let's hit the road, guys."

They went out through the gate where Hassan was waiting by his jeep,
wearing his habitual military fatigue pants, a khaki tank top stretched
over his muscular torso, and a sleeveless denim shirt over that. "Hey,
stud, you just get home?" he said to Mark.

They shook hands and pulled each other into a tight man-hug.  It went on so
long that Eddie and Jamie swapped smiles, both already imagining the cop
and the soldier together in Hassan's little old house way out in the dunes,
indulging their macho lust in the basement dungeon as they had done so
often in the past.

"OK, soldier," Mark said as they separated at last.  "You and Eddie wanna
follow Jamie and me in your jeep?"  It was agreed two vehicles was the best
arrangement so they wouldn't be car-dependent in the desert.  Plus both men
needed a chance to catch up on talking to their boys, as there had been so
little chance lately.  And so, the two-vehicle convoy set off, Mark's truck
followed by Hassan's military jeep.

As they swung onto the 10 Freeway headed east Mark heaved a contented sigh
and rested a hand on Jamie's thigh.  "Damn this feels good, Jamie.  I miss
our routine where I would get home from a shift, you'd be waiting for me
naked on the bed and ... well, you remember the rest ... don't you?"

"Sir," there are some things you never forget ... how could I?  At the
beach around six o'clock each day when the director yells cut, I jump off
my board, run off behind a rock and rub one out thinking of you coming
through the door in that uniform."

"I'm glad to hear it." Mark chuckled.  "So how's the job going, dude?
Still having fun?"

"Sir, it's the most exciting thing I've ever done – except getting
butt-fucked by you. "The director calls me his surfer-wrangler.  It's such
a challenge – picture it, a dozen or more surfers who all have to rise
up on the swell at the same time, jump on their boards and ride the wave in
together.  The timing has to be perfect.  If we miss it and have to go for
another take it takes ages to set it all up again and, as they keep telling
us, time is money."

"Is this director guy pleased with you?"

"He never stops praising me sir.  See, I've been riding those waves for
half my life and I know every move and mood of the ocean.  My only regret
is it keeps me away from you so much.  But one word from you and I'd give
it all up in a heartbeat."

"You know that ain't gonna happen, Jamie.  I'm so damn proud of you.  Hell,
just sitting here with you I've got pre-cum oozing from my dick – you
all tanned and handsome in those lifeguard shorts stretched over you
bulge."

"I could suck you off if you like, sir."

"Nah, I need more than that, boy.  You know what I want.  Not sure I can
hold out till we get to Mike's, though."

"Well, sir.  There's always that old favorite of ours about half-way, out
in a clump of trees."

"You read my mind, dude.  Won't be long before the exit."

<><> IN HASSAN'S JEEP <><>

In the jeep following them a similar conversation was unfolding.  Hassan's
manner was gruffer than Mark's but his meaning was the same.  "Been missing
you a lot kid.  Like I've told you before, when I get home from the Marine
base you're always the perfect antidote to all of those Marine cadets,
always trying to out-macho each other. You're sexier than them too."

Eddie glowed.  "Thank you, sir.  When I'm out at the beach I imagine you
getting home and I'm not there to suck your dick or give you my butt.  If
you want me to stop working on the movie, I..."

"Kiddo, that's the last thing I want.  I was never happy when you were
house manager, cleaning other guys' rooms, and now you've got this
incredible job that really excites you."

"It really does, sir.  You know I always talk to much – like a machine
gun Brandon says – but I think that's because I was bored a lot of the
time.  But when I'm working with the film crew I have to concentrate so
much I hardly say a word. `Course, I'm only the junior cameraman but the DP
– director of photography, sir – says I've got real talent,
especially for those closeups I get.  That's why he wants me in the boat or
on the raft with the camera crews.

"See, it's all in the timing.  You have to, what he calls, `anticipate'
what's gonna happen and where, so you're in the right place at the right
time.  Did I tell you, sir – I guess I did a hundred times – that the
very first shot of Grady, introducing him to the public, is gonna be the
one I got of him when he fell off his board and suddenly surfaced, laughing
like crazy and looking gorgeous with water running down his face and
spraying everywhere when he shook his head.

"The director said they might freeze-frame that one and use it under the
movie's opening credits.  And they'll use stills from it in the publicity
and promotion.

"The wardrobe lady likes me a lot too.  She gave me these red shorts I'm
wearing, the same as Grady and the lifeguards wear.  She said it was in
case, by accident, there's a glimpse of me in one of the shots.  If I'm
wearing red shorts the audience will assume I'm just one of the lifeguards,
and post-production won't have to edit the shot out."

Suddenly Eddie stopped.  "Oh, there I go again, sir – so excited I'm
talking too much."

The Marine's swarthy face broke into a smile.  "No, I love that about you
kiddo.  Those young marines think it's macho to be strong and silent,
talking in grunts, so I like it when I get home and you let rip.  All the
time you're talking I'm deciding whether a want my dick in your mouth or in
your ass."

"Really, sir?"  He smiled his crooked, mischievous grin.  "Are you trying
to decide that now, sir?"

"Oh, I already know that, kid.  Question is how soon?  I'm wondering how
long I can hold back until I cream my pants."

"Sir, you know the story – everyone else does – that sometimes when
Mark brings Jamie out here to the desert he pulls off the freeway at the
same remote place and drives way out in the scrub to a bunch of trees and
... well, you get the picture, sir."

"Yeah, Mark's told me about that.  Are you thinking he'll do that this
time?"

"Well, last evening Mark worked the night shift and left home before Jamie
got home from the beach.  So no sex.  When Mark came home this morning,
Jamie was all packed and ready to go, so Mark got in his truck without even
stopping to take off his uniform.  No sex again for the second time.  So,
d'you think the cop is horny for Jamie's ass, or what?  You do the math,
sir."

Hassan grinned at his boy and they drove on in silence until, a few miles
further along the highway they saw Mark's truck slow down ahead of them and
veer off on a small offramp, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

See, sir?  What did I tell you?  What you gonna do, sir?"

"What the hell do you think, kiddo?  We're gonna follow them."

<><> FOUR MEN & A TRUCK <><>

Drivers on the freeway, if they noticed at all, would have seen in the far
distance two vehicles bumping along a track in the desert scrub.  They
might have idly wondered where they could be headed in that arid, remote
place with no other sign of life.

But the guys in the truck and the following jeep knew exactly.  In the
distance was a small stand of trees braving the desert heat, that never saw
visitors – except for these same guys once in a while on the past trips.
And if the trees had feelings they would have been as tense with
anticipation as the vehicles' occupants.

Mark pulled off the track and drove behind the trees where they were hidden
from the distant highway.  Hassan pulled up a short distance away, and he
and Eddie got out and watched.

Mark and Jamie jumped down from the truck and walked to the rear where Mark
pulled down the tailgate.  Jamie pulled himself up on it and sat with his
legs hanging over the edge, facing Mark, who locked eyes with him and began
slowly to unbutton his uniform shirt.

Suddenly Hassan was standing beside Mark and beckoned Eddie with a nod.
The boy's heart was pounding as he realized that he had to join Jamie.  He
went to the truck, leaned back against the tailboard and pulled himself up
on it.  Sitting beside his buddy, he stared up at the blond cop and the
dark Arab soldier.

Mark unbuttoned his black shirt, pulled it out of his waistband and pulled
it off.  At the same time Hassan shrugged off his denim shirt.

"Jesus," Jamie breathed softly and clamped his hand over Eddie's on the
tailboard as they stared at the homoerotic fantasy.  The square-jawed blond
cop was stripped down to his white T-shirt that hugged the contours of his
muscled torso, the short sleeves pushed back by his bulging biceps.  The
dark-skinned Arab Marine wore a khaki tank that stretched over the slabs of
his pecs, wet with patches of sweat in the desert heat.

"Well here they are, soldier," Mark said, "two hot young lifeguards, ours
for the plucking."

"Or the fucking," Hassan grinned, "if you're as horny as I am for a piece
of ass, officer."  Each man reached forward, unlaced his boy's shorts
pulled them down and tossed them aside.  Jamie leaned back and propped
himself on his elbows on the truck's flatbed, and Eddie copied him, their
dicks standing up like flagpoles.  Hassan said, "Which one do you want,
officer?"

"Ah, I'll stick to my own boy – he's the one been making my dick throb."
Together they pulled their shirts off and stood stripped to the waist, The
soldier in military fatigues and combat boots, the cop in black uniform
pants and high, shiny motorcycle boots.  They ripped open their pants and
pulled out their huge cocks, hard a steel.

Jamie bent his legs and pulled them back, and Eddie did the same.  The men
spat on their cocks, moved forward and each pressed the head of his cock
between his boy's ass-cheeks.  "You ready, soldier?"

"Right there with you, officer."

Slowly but firmly each pushed his rod in his boy, inch by inch, until it
came to rest in the warm depths of his ass.  Mark gazed down at the tanned
surfer, naked except for his loose tank, and smiled.  "You been missing
that, kid?"

"A lot, sir," Jamie sighed.  "I need it so bad."

"Me too, sir," Eddie said to Hassan.  He wasn't sure whether he should
mimic Jamie or speak for himself.  But as he felt the erotic sensation of
the captain's shaft pulling back, then driving in deep again, he said,
"Sir, that feels so good.  I love you, sir, I want to be a good boy for
you."

Hassan's rugged features broke into a gleaming smile.  "You are the best
boy I could ever have, kiddo.  I love you – love fucking your sweet ass
... man it feels good.  I don't wanna hurt you, though."

"I don't care sir, I can take whatever you dish out.  Fuck me, sir ... fuck
me hard."

Hassan took him at his word and pounded ass in sync with Mark next to him.
Jamie grasped Eddie's hand as the attack on their asses intensified.  It
was more than just getting fucked by their man.  Side by side, looking up
at both men, they both felt what their buddy was feeling, almost as if they
were both getting double-fucked by the cop and the soldier together.

Their men smiled down at them and, intense as the jackhammering became, the
boys knew that their men would not take them beyond the level of their
endurance.  Against the blue sky, backlit by the sun, the blond cop and
swarthy soldier looked like they were straight out of a superhero movie,
with their chiseled features and sculpted, shirtless physiques.

But their sweat was real enough.  In the desert heat their pounding bodies
were gleaming with sweat that ran down their faces and chests, and dripped
on the boys.  The men were so fired up that Mark grabbed Jamie's tank-top,
pulled his back up from the flatbed of the truck and left him hanging from
the shirt as he pounded his ass.

Hassan too grabbed Eddie's T-shirt and yanked up on it, but the shirt was
so thin that it ripped and the shreds hung round his neck.  Hassan grabbed
the torn fabric and pulled it up so the boy was hanging from the ripped
shirt looped round the back of his neck.

Mark growled, "Look at them, soldier.  Their lifeguard buddies should see
them now, two young jocks captured by a cop and a marine, ripped shirts
round their neck, getting their asses pounded on a truck."

The boys were driven wild by the pornographic sight of the two men, their
biceps and shoulders flexed hard as they held the boys suspended.  They
reached up and planted their hands on the bare bulging chests, digging
their fingers into the rock-hard pecs above them as the cocks plundered
their asses.  Instinctively they pushed back against the bodies but they
were as immovable as granite.

All they were aware of were their masters' rugged faces, the drumbeat of
their cocks pistoning in their asses, the searing desert heat, and the
birds of prey circling high above them in the azure blue sky.

Suddenly the men turned to each other ... and kissed, grinding their mouths
together in a macho display of male passion.  When they pulled apart the
Marine's deep, husky voice said, "Damn, that's hot.  You close, officer?"

"Real close, buddy.  But before I bust my load in my boy I wanna see him
beat his meat and spray juice all over that, ripped body."

"You hear that, boy?" Hassan growled at Eddie.  "You know what you gotta
do."

"Aye-aye, captain – coming right up."

The men let go of their shirts and they fell back flat on the bed of the
truck, still dazed from the homoerotic sight of the cop and the soldier
locking mouths.  They pounded their own cocks while their masters pounded
ass harder and harder.

"We gotta do it, dude," Jamie said.  "You ready?"

"Try stopping me," Eddie shouted.  "Here it comes ... I'm gonna cum, gonna
cum ... aaagh!"

The air was filled with four howling voices as the boys spurted jizz high
in the air and, with one last ferocious thrust, the cop and the soldier
blasted semen deep inside their boys.

When the shouting subsided there was a sudden silence as their breathing
slowed.  A minute later the men were pulling their boys up off their backs,
onto their feet and hugging them, their sweaty bodies grinding against each
other.

When they separated, the boys found it sexy how the soldier and cop got
back to business with military precision.  They had got their rocks off and
now matter-of-factly shoved their cocks back in their pants and zipped up
– all in a day's work.  The boys felt used as fuck-fodder by their
masters – and loved the feeling.

Mark slammed the tailgate shut.  "Let's hit the road, guys." Jamie grinned
at Eddie, they pulled on their red boardshorts, their tattered shirts still
hanging from their necks, and followed their men into the truck and the
jeep.  They took off along the sandy trail, hit the freeway and sped the
rest of the way in a contented silence.

Having efficiently taken care of their sexual lusts, the tension was eased
and they were ready to enjoy their time at Mike's – and whatever new
amusements awaited them there.

<><> EDDIE CUTS A DEAL <><>

It was a lazy day at the house of Uncle Mike.  Having slept in late the men
had made love, then wandered out to a buffet breakfast set out in the
garden by Will and Larry.  Mike, Randy and Bob, Mario and Grady were lazing
by the pool.  Will and Larry joined them, taking a breather from the
kitchen before Will started early prep for the big dinner that evening.

They were all drinking coffee and juice – and in Randy's case something
stronger – when they heard two vehicles pull up.  Too lazy to run out to
greet the newcomers, the men focused their gaze on the gate.  When it
opened Mike gasped, "Jesus ... be still my heart ... look what just walked
in ... a fantasy on foot."

The bare-chested blond cop in black uniform pants tucked into shiny black
motorcycle boots had his shirt and T-shirt slung over his shoulder.  The
muscular Arab soldier, shirtless in military fatigue pants and combat
boots, was carrying his shirt and tank.  Following them were two boys in
red boardshorts, their T-shirt and tank hanging in shreds over their bare
chests.

"Don't tell me," Mike laughed.  "You guys made a pit-stop halfway and
forced yourselves on these poor boys."

"No forcing necessary, Mike," Hassan grinned.  "These `poor boys' were
begging for it."

"Anyway," Mark said, "what else is a truck tailgate for?"

The laughter turned into cheers and wolf whistles as the quartet approached
and Will said above the din to the new arrivals, "Breakfast is served,
sirs."

Eddie was beaming at their raucous reception and ran forward, but stopped
dead in his tracks as he saw Will and Larry standing sided by side,
identically dressed in red aprons and white chef's hats."

"Dude, what's with this red look?.  You look awesome, I gotta get this –
one for the books."  He was, as usual, carrying his camera, which he raised
to his eye and focused on the smiling chefs.

Mike started to get on his feet but Mark waved him down.  "Don't get up,
guys.  It's great to see you all – Bob, Randy, and especially Mario and
Grady, a rare sighting outside of the Grady House.  We'll help ourselves to
food over here.

Will showed the guys the choices.  "The cooked stuff is still warm, sirs, I
put it on warmers.  There's still plenty of everything.  I cooked extra
`cos I knew you were coming, though you're a bit later than we expected."

"Rumor has it, kiddo, that you're cooking up a celebration feast for this
evening.  Tell you the truth, it's the main reason we came.

Will smiled impishly.  "Plus a chance to butt-fuck your boys on a truck in
the middle of nowhere, sir."

Mark shrugged.  "Yeah, there was that too.  Hey, what do you expect?
What's a cop to do sitting next to this surfer hunk, all tanned and
gorgeous?"

Mark and Hassan loaded their plates and sat with Bob, Randy and the other
guys.  Jamie went to say hi to Larry, his old buddy from way back, even
before they joined the tribe.

But Eddie stayed with Will and said earnestly, "Now dude, I've gotta talk
to you – or rather you've gotta talk to me.  It's on the grapevine, see,
how Mike tangled with Grady out here and they played out that
Tarzan-in-bondage scene from his movie, except in their version Tarzan gets
his ass ploughed.  Damn, I should a' got that on video – I should a'
thought to give you one of my cameras so you could film it."

"Eddie, it was a private thing between Mike and Grady, in Mike's secret
garden."

"Private, schmivate, dude.  Nothings private in this crowd.  See, I'm doing
spot interviews with a bunch of guys, one by one, filming them while they
describe some big event.  I'm putting them all together as a documentary of
the tribe, along with all the other footage I got.  I call it a video
history.

"I can't actually put Grady on film, him being this big ol' celebrity.
Mario wouldn't allow it in case it got out.  But I can sure film you
describing everything.  When can we do it?"

"Eddie, I'm real busy today getting ready for this gig Randy hired me for
– his and Bob's big thank-you for Uncle Mike.  It's gonna be a major
dinner for eleven of us."

"OK, tell you what, kiddo, I'll interview you while you cook. It'll be
great, against the background of the kitchen.  It's what we in showbiz call
giving it context.  You can work while I film."

Eddie was wearing Will down.  "OK, dude, we'll do a deal.  You can ask me
questions while I work, provided – and this is non-negotiable dude –
provide that when you're finished you then become my kitchen helper.  You'd
have to wear an apron like this.  Uncle Mike gave me three – red is the
apron color for this house."

"You're on, kid," Eddie grinned.  "It's a deal.  I think I look kinda hot
in read.  Wait till Hassan sees me.  I'll wear the apron with nothing
underneath and he'll wanna butt-fuck me again.  He'd get off on that.
Except, dude, I gotta have some time off this afternoon if Mark and Hassan
go out to Hassan's little house in the dunes and do their dungeon thingy.
It's a legend of the tribe but no one's ever go it on film before."

"Eddie, are you sure those guys won't get mad if they catch you filming
them?  What they do out there is supposed to be just between them – real
private."

Eddie grinned.  "Like I said, dude.  Private, schmivate ..."

<><> BOB'S CONCERNS FOR WILL <><>

Eddie got himself a plate of food and went to sit with Jamie, while Will
tidied the buffet table and stacked used dishes.  In a few minutes Bob was
at his elbow and he paused his work.

"William, I'm a little worried about you.  All these other guys are having
fun while you're in the kitchen working on breakfast, lunch and dinner.  It
was not supposed to be like this.  When Randy hired you, the gig was meant
to be only the big dinner this evening, not the other meals."

"Oh, I don't mind, really sir.  You know I love working in the kitchen, and
I'm planning on a light, easy-to-prepare casual lunch – sandwiches and
stuff.  Plus, I'm gonna have Eddie as my assistant, after he's done
interviewing me."

"Interviewing you?"

"Yes, sir."  Will explained Eddie's plan.  "And we did a deal that if I let
him interview me he'd help me in the kitchen."

Bob bristled.  "No, no, no.  You don't have to do a `deal' to make Eddie
help you, he's supposed to do that anyway.  I'll have a word with Hassan
and ..."

"No, please don't, sir.  I don't want to get Eddie in trouble, and I'm fine
with the arrangement.  I'm gonna be working while I talk to him – plus,
I'm making him wear an apron."

Bob smiled to himself – so wearing an apron made everything alright, it
seemed.  Will added, "But I wanted to ask if it's OK to be filmed by Eddie.
He says he's making a documentary, what he calls a video history."

"Yes, I heard something about that.  "I have nothing against it, in some
ways it's a good idea and Eddie is skilled at stuff like that.  Of course
he understands that it's for internal use only – for the archives he
says – and will never be shown outside the tribe."

"He says he'll be gone a while in the afternoon, with his camera, if Mark
and Hassan take off to Hassan's little house and ... and do what they've
done before, sir."

"Yes, William, and I think they probably will.  Matter of fact, yesterday
when I talked to Larry and explained what they did out there, Larry asked,
`With a little help from their friends?'  I told him that it used to be
private, but once in a while others have watched the scene they play out."

Bob frowned.  "But I have a feeling there was more behind Larry's question
than just idle curiosity.  You know what Larry and Jamie can be like when
they're together.  Their friendship goes way, way back and can get
mischievous.  But nothing for you to worry about, kiddo.  I'll keep my ear
to the ground.  But promise me, if the work gets too much you'll come and
tell me."

"I promise, sir.  But I really am having fun, sir, in my own way."

Bob kissed Will on the cheek and ruffled his red hair.  "Besides," Bob
smiled, "a certain big boss Randy would get real upset if he found out his
good pal Red was not happy.  The fur would fly, and we don't want that."

"Definitely not, sir," Will giggled and carried the pile of dishes back to
the kitchen.

<><> RANDY CHECKS IN WITH DOCTOR CHAD <><>

And so the enlarged group settled down, lazing in the sun, swimming, eating
sandwiches and drinking wine and beer.  Randy was antsy, though, feeling
restricted by having his arm in a sling.  Finally he called Doctor Chad
back in L.A.

"Hey, doc, how's it hangin with you and that hunk Adam of yours?  Listen
dude, I'm out here in the desert, relaxing and being a good guy for once.
But this damn sling is driving me crazy.  Don't worry, I didn't just rip it
off and toss it – I told you I'm being a good guy.  So I'm calling you
to tell you ... no, to ask you, doc ... if I can take it off."

"Hmm ... if Bob and Mike are with you put your phone on speaker, Randy.
Hi, guys, you heard what Randy wants.  I would normally advise caution, but
if you can confirm that Randy is serious about this good guy thing ..."

"So far so good, doc," Mike said.  Bob added, "And we plan to keep it that
way."

"OK then, Randy, you can take it off.  But your arm is still in a cast, so
no strenuous activity, no fighting, no rough sex, no bondage, and
definitely no desert dungeons ..."

"What else is there?" Randy protested.  "That don't leave much ..."  He
chuckled, "Just kidding, doc.  And my two jailers are right here to keep me
in line."

"Well, alright.  But at the first sign of pain or even a dull ache I want
the sling back on, is that clear, you guys?"

They agreed in chorus, and Bob said, "Thanks Chad, and say hi to Adam.  See
you when we get back to town."

After the call ended Randy ceremoniously took the sling from round his neck
and held it up.  "I think I'll burn the fucker."

Bob grabbed it out of his hands.  "I'll take charge of that, and if you act
up it goes right back on."

Randy looked at Mike for support, but he said, "Sounds like the master has
spoken, boy. I'd say you're fucked.

"Assholes," Randy grunted, then roared with laughter and took another slug
of beer.

<><> YOU CAN TAKE A BOY OFF THE STREETS...  <><>

Sometime later Mike said to Mark and Hassan.  "Hey, you guys, ain't you
ever gonna get out of those uniform pants and boots?  "Don't get me wrong,
I ain't complaining.  It's like sitting here with two bare-chested porn
hunks.  But this is the desert – casual Friday and casual everything
else.  The usual attire is swim trunks, if that."

Hassan said, "You're right, Mike, but we got a bit of business to take care
of first."

Grady chuckled, "Yeah, me and Mario saw those looks passing between you and
felt the tension.  Does that mean a little trip out to that old house of
yours way out in the wilds – or should I say the basement of the house?"

Hassan shrugged.  "Whenever I'm here at Mike's I like to take a side-trip
out there to check on the place.  And if there's a cop around I take him
with me to check on the security."

Mario smiled, "Capitano, everyone knows that is a big, fat ... how you say
... eufemismo.  So go, do your `security check' but please come back in one
piece.  And please, do not take Grady with you."

"Ah," Grady moaned, "You don't let me have any fun."

"Another time, maybe, amore."

While this went on Bob noticed Jamie and Larry huddling together
conspiratorially.  His mind went back to years ago when they first showed
up, two skinheads running wild on the streets.  In the intervening years
they had been transformed – Jamie when he fell in love with the cop
Mark, and when Larry became the loving boy of Uncle Mike.

But Bob recalled the old saying – `You can take the boy off the streets,
but you can't take the streets out of the boy'.  There was always that
streak of mischief in them, which was clearly bubbling up now.  But Bob was
not worried about them.  If they involved themselves in the plans of Mark
and Hassan, he knew that Mark would never harm the young surfer he
idolized.  And Mike seemed happy to indulge Larry's adventurous streak with
two men he trusted.

The two men in question stood up and Mark said, "So if you'll excuse us
gentlemen, we won't be gone long."

"Take as long as you need, guys," Randy grinned.  "I'd be right there with
you except for this fucking arm.  My doc has ruled out strenuous activity,
rough sex, bondage and especially no desert dungeons.  So you're on your
own, guys."

Bob wondered about that last bit as he glanced again at Jamie and Larry and
their increasing excitement.

The men's departure had not gone unnoticed by Eddie, looking through the
kitchen window.  "Dude," he said suddenly to Will, "I gotta go."

"That's OK, Eddie, I'm gonna take a break too.  There's always a lull in
mid-afternoon after most of the early prep has been done and before the
actual cooking starts.  But I hope whatever it is you're filming this time
don't last all day."

"Shouldn't think so, kiddo.  From what I hear it's too intense to last
long." Eddie grabbed his camera and they both went out to join the others.

Will sat down with Randy who draped his arm over the boy's shoulder.  "So
how's it going in there, Red?"

"Real good, thank you, sir, it's all on schedule.  Eddie's been helpful too
– he's good at chopping vegetables."

"Ah, another of his many talents.  Looks like he's gonna need them, all the
plotting he's doing with those guys over there."

Eddie was talking conspiratorially again.  "Guys, I just gotta get it on
video for my documentary.  I mean it's one of the legends of the tribe, but
almost nobody's ever seen it."

"Not sure how those guys would react to their war games being put on film,
dude," Jamie said.

"I'm hoping they won't know.  One of my many talents is being unobtrusive,
almost invisible when I film stuff.  These guys are so into each other they
won't even notice me."

"Matter of fact," Larry said, "we were thinking of taking a run out there
ourselves, so come with us, dude."

They stood up and Jamie said, "we won't be gone long, sirs."

"That's just what Mark and Hassan said," Mike grinned.  "Eddie, you be
careful.  Some guys don't care for a camera being shoved in their face."

"No worries, sir.  I'll be invisible."

Will giggled, "Not dressed in a bright red apron and white chef's hat, you
won't, dude.  Maybe you should leave them with me."

"Oh yeah, right?" Eddie grinned. "Not much of a disguise, eh?"  His blush
matched his apron as he pulled off the apron and hat and tossed them to
Will.  "Thanks for the tip, dude."

The trio left and the guys laughed.  "Perfetto," Mario said to Will.  "You
actually made Eddie blush – a rare sight.  Felicitazioni, bambino."

<><> A RITUAL OF LUST <><>

The three boys drove in Larry's truck as he knew the way.  He occasionally
came out here at Hassan's request to make sure the house was still intact.

The deserted road led straight out to a searing world of nothing but sand
and dunes and shimmering heat.  It was hard to believe anyone would build a
house in this desolate terrain, but the park rangers had many years ago,
and then, much later, had abandoned it when modern communications no longer
required a remote outpost like this.

When Hassan had first come to this country looking for house where he could
be totally private he bought this place for next to nothing.  It still had
electricity and water laid on, and he was used to desert living as an Arab
born and raised in the Middle-East.

But to the boys, the wide expanses seemed uninhabitable until Larry pointed
to a small building in the distance.  "That's it, guys."  Their heartbeat
quickened as he pulled off the road onto a bumpy track through the sand.
He stopped well short of the house so as not to alert the men inside,
though if they were in the basement they could not have heard.

Hassan's jeep was parked outside and they cautiously opened the faded red
door with peeling paint.  Inside they walked quietly to the door that Larry
knew led to the basement.  Jamie and Eddie followed him down the steep
stairs into almost complete blackness, but for a crack of light showing
through the door that was slightly ajar.

They held their breath as Larry slowly opened the door which, mercifully
did not squeak.  They stood close together in the deep shadows just inside
the door and gaped at the sight that met their eyes.

In a pool of light in the middle of the room stood Hassan, shirtless in
fatigue pants and combat boots – and he was a prisoner.  The swarthy
Arab stood on the cluttered floor, his muscled arms stretched up, wrists
manacled to chains that hung down from a ceiling beam.  His flared lats
tapered down past ripped abs to his long slim waist, cinched by a heavy
military belt.  A whip, a cat o' nine tails, hung round his neck.

In contrast to the olive-skinned Arab with his darkly stubbled jaw, his
captor was a handsome all-American blond cop with sculpted, square-jawed
features, stripped to the waist, his muscled torso gleaming under the red
spotlights attached to the beams above.

He paced round his chained prisoner.  "Yeah, I can see it now, soldier, the
time you had me in that same position after you captured me and dragged me
into that desert cell for interrogation.  Remember how you stared at me,
then smiled that gleaming Arab smile, came up to me and worked my tits
... like this?"

Mark squeezed Hassan's nipples hard, making him wince in pain.  Then he
leaned forward and silenced his groans with a grinding kiss.  When he
pulled back their eyes met in a faint smile of recollection.  "The
interrogation started and went on all night, until you left me chained to
the wall, and came back later to begin again.

"But you made the fatal mistake of unchaining me – just what I'd been
waiting for.  I had conserved my energy, chose my moment and, using the
element of surprise, overpowered you.  Our roles were reversed.  I chained
you in my place and it was payback time."

The Arab prisoner's muscles flexed as he tugged helplessly at his manacled
wrists.

"No use, soldier.  You're at my mercy, just as I was at yours all those
years ago.  You had whipped me savagely, so when I overpowered you I
returned the favor.  I slid the whip from round your neck – like this
– and lashed your chest – like this."

Unseen in the shadows the three boys were rooted to the spot, their cocks
bulging in their shorts, mesmerized by the homoerotic bondage scene –
the rugged Arab soldier, helplessly chained in this basement dungeon,
staring defiantly at the shirtless blond cop.  Excited as he was, Eddie
didn't forget his mission, and had his camera to his eye.

Mark slid the whip from around Hassan's neck, raised it and struck the
first blow across his prisoner's brawny chest.  The cat, with its many
strips of rawhide, was not designed for the brutal lashes of a bullwhip,
and Mark whipped the bare chest only up to Hassan's pain tolerance.

In truth, these sessions of bondage and "torture" had become ritualistic,
rather than real reenactments of the brutal scene in that interrogation
cell in the desert war.  Even back then, despite the enmity and the pain,
captor and captive had fallen in lust, which over the years had grown into
love.  And now, their visits to this darkly erotic room were to indulge
their sexual fantasies, based on the searing memories of the interrogation
of one rugged soldier by another.

<><> INTRUSION <><>

The ritual would have continued, but for a sudden interruption – a sound
from the shadows.  In his mounting excitement as he manipulated his camera,
Eddie had dropped a lens cover that clattered to the ground and rolled
across the floor, circling to a halt at Mark's feet.

"What the fuck ...?" Hassan growled.

"Freeze," ordered the cop.  Mark turned up the dimmer switch on the wall
and glared at the intruders, no longer in shadow.  He freed Hassan's
wrists, and together they faced the boys. "Get your asses over here," the
cop barked.

They shuffled forward and Hassan snarled, "What the fuck are you doing?
Breaking and entering for a start."

Genuinely scared, Larry stammered.  "We didn't mean no harm, sir.  We just
wanted to watch."

"Well you boys are in a whole mess of trouble now.  You've landed in just
the wrong place – an interrogation cell.  See these instruments of
torture – the chains and whips?  You're gonna pay a heavy price.  That
goes for you too, boy," glaring at Eddie.

Eddie overcame his nerves to adopt a defiant tone.  "Sir, you can't touch
me ... I'm the media ... it would be illegal ... says so in, er ... in the
Geneva Confection.

"Convention," Jamie hissed in his ear.

"Yeah, that's the one.  I'm a freelance reporter, just doing my job.  What
we in the business call a photo ... something ... er, journalist ... yeah
that's it, a photojournalist So you can't do stuff to me ... freedom of the
press.  See?"  He held up his camera as if to prove his point.

Hassan's affection for his boy was growing as Eddie faced him defiantly
with his trumped-up claim to belong to the media.  He really wanted to hug
the kid, but after some hesitation he turned to Mark.  "I don't know shit
about this.  You're the law expert, officer, what do you think?"

Mark shook his head and put on a stern face, though Hassan caught an amused
gleam in his eye.  "He's right dude.  Us cops have to be real careful with
the media ... something to do with free speech, in the Constitution,
whatever.  We can't touch `em.  If we're caught roughing up a reporter our
career is toast."

"Hm," Hassan grunted and looked sternly at Eddie.  "OK, boy, seems you're
in the clear.  You can carry on doing your job.  But I'm warning you, you
stay in the background, you don't get involved in what's gonna happen to
these guys.  Is that clear?"

"Aye-aye, captain.  You won't be sorry.  I'm making a documentary, see?
It'll pack `em in."  Eddie gave that impish, crooked smile that always made
Hassan melt.  He had an overwhelming desire to kiss the boy, but restrained
himself and turned to Jamie and Larry.

"What about you, guys?  You don't claim to be reporters or any other
bullshit thing?"

"No, sir," Jamie said.  "I'm a surfing coach."

"And I'm a motorbike mechanic," Larry said.

"So, just a couple of spies who need to be taught a lesson."  He looked
them over.  "Hm, not bad ... two sexy young muscle-jocks, a surfer and a
grease-monkey.  Gonna be fun working them over.  So what's it to be,
officer?"  " Pretty obvious to me.  They came here to witness a guy getting
tortured, but we can do better than showing them.  We can make `em feel it.
We're in the right place, we got the chains, whips, all the equipment.
Let's do it, soldier."

<><> FILMING A FANTASY <><>

A few minutes later Eddie was trembling so hard with excitement that he had
trouble focusing the camera.  But he steeled himself ... he was a reporter,
wasn't he?  So act like one.  Forget the boner straining in your shorts and
get all this on video.  This is a prizewinner.

One thing he didn't have to fake was his skill as a cameraman.  He had a
real talent and knew exactly how he would open this climactic scene –
slowly, in closeup.

He opened on the ceiling beam and the hooks bearing chains.  He panned down
the chains, four of them, all close together.  He pulled back a little as
the chains widened to shackles, four of them too, locked round wrists.

He moved down muscular arms, stretched upward, and then the faces.  One was
a suntanned blond jock, his tousled hair falling over square-cut features.
The other was a tough-looking young buck with rugged good looks and shaggy
black hair.

Then Eddie pulled the focus back to get the whole scene – a reveal that
he called the `gasp shot', the point where there's a collective gasp in the
audience.

The intruders were chained as Hassan had been, bodies stretched up,
barefoot and naked except for red boardshorts on one and grease-stained
cargo shorts on the other.  They stood facing each other, three feet apart,
and Eddie focused on the feature that really excited him.

They both had tit-clamps on their chests with light chains attached, chains
that were linked to each other, joining the two boys by the chest.  If they
jerked back it meant pain in both of them.

Their cocks were similarly joined. One end of a thin cord was tied round
the base of one boy's scrotum, the other similarly attached to the other
boy's.  There was no pain in either their cock and balls or their tits, as
long as they stayed facing each other and didn't jerk backward.

Their bodies stretched in chains, joined to each other by the tits and the
balls, there was little fear – only eager anticipation.  They knew that
the men would never injure them.  This was to indulge their lust as well as
the men's, something the boys now realized they had been hoping for all
along.

As if to reassure them Jamie felt Mark's finger rub gently up the back of
his neck.  It was the same slight gesture he always made before they made
love.  And that's what was about to happen – although this time it meant
stretching love into the realm of pornographic fantasy.

Jamie and his buddy Larry, bound together, stared at each other, their eyes
shining with the hint of a smile.

And as for Eddie, he was deep in his self-proclaimed role of
`photojournalist', intent on adding another dramatic scene to his
documentary.  And this one, he thought, was gonna drive his audience
batshit crazy.  He took a deep breath, focused his camera and murmured
softly to himself ... "And action ..."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 556

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.

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can read the whole story, with extras including pictures and biographies of
all the characters.

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