Bob and Randy had been separated for several weeks. The business executive was still staying at the Beverly Hills Hotel and the construction worker was holed up in the shabby motel where he and Bob had first met. But things came to a head one evening when Mark was visiting Bob. The cop got a call from a buddy at the Hollywood Police Division saying that Randy had been arrested for being drunk and disorderly. Mark rushed over there to sort things out, leaving Bob alone and bereft, with tears in his eyes.
"Stupid fucking idiot," Bob said, talking to himself as he did in times of trouble. "Of course he got drunk - and in the old days he'd take it out on me. But those were the old days. I have no responsibility for him now. Let him rot in jail." As soon as the words were out of his mouth he took them back. "No, no - he got drunk because of me, he's missing me."
He paced the room feeling helpless, with no idea what to do. He took a deep breath trying to stay calm. "OK, what would Randy do, even now, if he heard I was in trouble? I know damn well what he'd do. He'd drop everything and come to me. Remember the time those assholes ran me off the road and he carried me all the way up the steep ravine to the road? In the hospital he didn't leave my side while I was in a coma ..... and he brought me back to life."
His impulse was to go to Randy, but he checked himself. "Shit, isn't that what I've always done? He beats me up, I leave, then go crawling back. I can't do that again .... but he needs me." Confused and exhausted Bob waited until finally Mark called.
"Everything's OK, buddy. Luckily the guys on that shift know me well and owed me some favors, so we worked things out and they released Randy on my recognizance. By that time he was pretty much whacked out from booze. I took him to some rat-hole of a motel he's been staying in round the corner from the bar he busted up. I ordered him to stay put there all night until he sobered up, and he was in no shape to protest. I know he'll pass out for the night."
"Funny thing, though - as I left the room I looked back at him, lying on his back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and I suddenly felt real sorry for him. Such a great guy, but now he's a wreck. And you know what? As he lay there tears were running down his cheeks. Not something you see often, the big boss man, the so-called King of the Gypsies, in tears."
So Bob now knew now where Randy was - "some rat-hole of a motel he's been staying in round the corner from the bar." Had to be their motel - the one where ..... His eyes glazed over as he thought of that first night together when it had all started with Randy roping him to the bed and punishing him for (as he mistakenly thought) Bob's coming on to him. He saw the swarthy construction worker towering over him - he felt the pain as if it were yesterday.
Suddenly he snapped back to the present and everything was crystal clear to him. He knew what he had to do. He put on an old pair of jeans, heavy boots and a wide belt that he hardly ever wore. He pulled on an old white tank top and a frayed denim shirt, sleeveless, hanging open over his chest.
He looked at himself in the mirror and saw the rugged muscle-stud who had so recently dominated Mark, forced him to strip and then jack-hammered his ass. With a two-week growth of stubble on his jaw it was an alpha male he hardly recognized - the new Bob, released from his bondage of humility and subservience. "The stupid asshole motherfucker," he growled, and left the room.
As he drove across town it was all déjà vu. He remembered that distant day when, after Randy had released him from his nightmare in the motel, Bob had felt a strange restlessness. Unable to leave the city he had driven aimlessly - inexorably drawn back to that motel. He remembered bumping over pot holes and coming to a halt ..... in the small motel parking lot.
And now, in a replay of that distant time, his Mercedes purred to a halt - and here he was again. That first time he had stayed uncertainly in his car, gazing at the door of Room 14 before finally plucking up the courage to approach it. He had been nervous, knowing he was going back to the savage domination of the man he was obsessed with.
Not this time though. Bob felt his whole body flex as power surged through him. He got out of the car and strode to door 14. As he had done that first night he now peered through a crack in the window blinds and saw exactly the same sight as he had seen before. Randy was lying on his back on the bed, stripped down to his undershorts, his hands linked behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.
Last time Bob had knocked nervously and waited. This time he grabbed the door handle, turned it .... and walked right in.
At the sudden sound Randy's head jerked round, he pulled himself up on his elbows and gazed up at Bob in disbelief - as if he were watching him walk in just as he had that first time so long ago. His thoughts were reeling, events of their lives together speeding though them, just as a whole life is said to run before the eyes of a drowning man. And it was a bit like drowning. He took a deep breath - a gasp - to keep from suffocating. Everything else faded from view except this glorious man, and he knew at that instant, without a shadow of doubt, that he could never live without him.
Randy's cock was hard, his body suddenly on fire, and he swung round, sitting on the bed about to stand up. But Bob dampened the fire instantly. He raised his leg, planted his boot squarely on Randy's chest and shoved him roughly onto his back. "No! Not this time, man. This time it's different - I'm in charge." Randy opened his mouth to speak but Bob raised his hand. "One word from you - one wrong move - and I will walk through that door and never see you again."
His mind clearing a little Randy could hardly believe what he heard and saw. He stared up at the man towering over him - it was Bob wasn't it? - but barely recognizable. Gone was the clean-cut preppy look. Bob had not shaved for over two weeks and now his square jaw was darkly stubbled and his unruly dark hair fell over his face. Gone too was the smart business suit. Now he wore old jeans and boots, a sweat-stained white tank under a ragged, sleeveless denim shirt.
It wasn't just the clothes - it was the wide stance, the clenched fist and flexing muscles - and the fire in his eyes. Randy had never seen anything like this before - except when he looked in the mirror and saw a swarthy gypsy staring back at him. The man looked magnificent, a rugged muscle-god, and Randy had a desperate hunger for him. He would do anything to prevent him from leaving the room .... he was cowed into silence.
Bob looked round the shabby room and his eye settled on an object on the floor. "Shit, man, you even brought that black bag of yours. What, you were hoping you could work me over with your rough-sex gear like that first time? Think again, asshole." He opened the bag and pulled out the objects he remembered from all that time ago. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Randy stir, but he whirled round and speared him with a fierce look that made him freeze.
Bob selected from the bag four leather restraints and short lengths of rope. He gazed down at Randy and clamped a hand over this throat. "It's payback time, man. It has to be like this - it's the only way. You know what to do." Randy was hypnotized by the brown eyes he knew so well - but had never seen like this. Trancelike, he spread-eagled his arm and legs out to the corner bedposts and Bob quickly buckled the restraints round his wrists and ankles and roped them to the posts.
But suddenly Randy came out of his trance and realized he was at Bob's mercy. He struggled to free himself, his muscular body thrashing on the bed, eyes wide with anger and fear. "Yeah, that's what you always made me do," Bob said. "You got off on watching me struggle. But you won't get free - I learned from the master - all the times it happened to me." Bob's anger was mounting as he gazed down at the man who had caused him so much pain, and saw himself tied up at Randy's mercy. All those times .....
For a moment sadness mixed with his anger as he said, "Randy, I loved you - how could you do that to me? You debased me - sucked the manhood out of me. You said you loved me - I know you loved me - and yet you ....." His sadness vanished leaving mounting anger. "Fuck you, man - fuck you." He pulled the belt from his jeans, swung it through the air and smashed it across Randy's chest. "Fuck you, man - fuck you."
Bob knew that Randy could withstand any amount of pain but, still, he had to make him feel what he had felt - all those times ......" His muscles flexed, he felt the power of adrenaline racing through him, and the anger he had nursed ever since the bar incident now found brutal expression. The belt lashed across the construction worker's chest, his ridged abs and his muscled thighs, again and again with mounting ferocity.
Randy flexed his body hard to withstand the searing pain and he never took his eyes off the spectacular muscle stud, his muscles rippling as he whipped him .... punished him .... hurt him. He had never seen Bob look more magnificent and Randy clenched his jaw, determined to absorb the flogging without a sound.
"That's how it felt being your man, you mother-fucker. That's the pain I felt all those times you whipped and degraded me." Bob was sweating through the white tank as his fury mounted and he lashed Randy's writhing body. "What the fuck's this?" Bob said suddenly, staring at Randy's shorts that were standing up like a tent. He ripped them open and Randy's massive cock sprang out, rock hard. "What the fuck...?" Bob yelled, slapping the rigid pole hard, back and forth. "You get off on this don't you, you sick son-of-a-bitch? Fuck you...."
He pulled the bag across the floor and pulled from it a short whip with one single heavily braided leather strand. "Get off on this, asshole," Bob growled, raised his arm and curled the whip round the thick rod. He yanked it off, then lashed it round the cock again ... then again.
The pain was excruciating and Randy groaned in agony. He gazed up at the beautiful savage whose muscular body was pouring with sweat, his chiseled features snarling with rage as he vented his fury on Randy's cock. Pulling hard on is restraints the construction worker writhed in pain .... this spectacular muscle-god was torturing him ...... his body was on fire .....it was agony .... it was beautiful .... it was .... "Aaagh.....!!"
A plume of white cream shot from his tortured cock high in the air, then splashed down on his ravaged chest, followed by more ribbons of semen as his cock erupted. In all this time away from Bob Randy had not masturbated, had not cum once. It was as if he had been saving it for this one spectacular moment, with Bob taking his revenge, thrashing him, torturing his cock. And all Randy's pent-up passion, frustration, doubt and misery now poured from him in one massive orgasm.
And yet as his cock drained, as his body stopped shuddering and he gazed up at the rugged man towering over him, Randy knew it wasn't over. There was more to come
"Look at you," Bob snarled. "The tough construction worker, my so-called master, the macho stud who whipped and tortured me. Look at you now, asshole - not the big boss anymore .... spread-eagled, roped to the bed, your muscles striped by the whip, your own jism smothered over your chest."
Bob pulled off his shirt. His thin tank, drenched in sweat, clung to his torso's pumped muscles as he gazed down at the shattered man. "All that time ago when you stopped whipping me, you know what I felt? Relief that it was over. But it wasn't was it? You had to own me so you kept me in this stinking room for three days, breaking me down body and soul. You pissed on me, made me crawl on my belly, made me beg .... you made me worship you ...... made me love you." Tears came to his eyes. "And it never really stopped, did it? Oh yeah, we fell in love, but you never trusted me. I put one foot out of line and you were on me again - the brutal savage taming his man."
Bob snarled, "No, I haven't finished with you yet, you bastard. Here - remember this?" Bob knelt astride him on the bed and ripped his own tank so it hung in shreds over his chest. "Get a good look, man, 'cause this is how I remember you as you knelt over me and did this." Randy instinctively tensed his pecs as Bob began brutally pec-punching him. But however long it went on the construction worker's pecs remained like rocks, so Bob moved down to his eight-pack abs and gut punched him with both fists, using every ounce of his strength.
Randy was wincing with pain, but his body was like granite. "You're one tough son-of-a-bitch," Bob snarled, "but here's something you won't forget - I sure didn't." He reached forward and clamped his fingers over Randy's protruding nipples - no preamble, no foreplay - just instant intense pain as he squeezed the tits mercilessly, digging in with his nails. And this time there was no gritting of the teeth to keep quiet. This time the construction worker's mouth opened in a scream that echoed round the room. "No! I can't take it, man ...... I give up ....... Please ..... I submit, sir.... Aaagh!"
"Yeah, big guy, let me hear you scream the way I screamed. Beg all you want, there's no safe word here, no mercy - just like you showed me no mercy. Just so we don't disturb the neighbors, I'll show you how you silenced me." Bob reached behind him and ripped off Randy's shorts. From the floor by the bed he picked up one of Randy's stinking socks and stuffed it in his mouth. He twisted the shorts into a gag and tied it round Randy's mouth, tight against the sock. Then he attacked the nipples again and took satisfaction at the muffled sound of the bound muscleman screaming for mercy into the gag.
"Now you know how it felt, asshole," Bob snarled. "This is what you did to the man you were falling in love with ...... tortured him like this, like you would tame a stallion until he was broken. Remember this too?" Taking one hand off the nipple he reached behind him, curled his hand round Randy's scrotum and squeezed his balls. Randy's head flew back, thrashing from side to side, his black hair flying, tears pouring from his eyes, the gag muting his agonized screams. His muscles bulged, the veins protruding as he pulled desperately against his restraints.
With Bob sitting on Randy's stomach, one hand reaching forward twisting the nipples, the other hand reaching back squeezing the balls, he looked like a muscular, shirtless cowboy on a bucking horse, the massive body heaving under him. "See, mother-fucker? Now it's me taming the stallion to submission. Here it comes, man ....." Applying all his strength Bob brutally crushed the nipple and the balls, causing the muscle-bound stallion to buck and thrash ...... and then become still. He had momentarily blacked out from the pain.
It took only a few seconds for him to regain consciousness and he became aware of the shape of a man standing beside the bed. The first thing he felt was his pulsing cock, rock hard again, whether from the searing pain coursing through his body, or the incredible sight of the stunning muscle-god stripped to the waist except for the shreds of his tank clinging to his chest. Bob's gleaming body heaved, his stubbled jaw clenched and his tousled dark hair hung over his face.
"Welcome back to hell, stud. As I recall, all that time ago you gave me a chance to leave but by then you had me so much in your power I stayed. I'll give you the same chance." He untied the gag and pulled the sock from his mouth. Randy gasped for air and gazed up at Bob with fear in his eyes. "See this?" Bob said holding up the belt. "Feel this?" as he brushed the back of his fingers over Randy's inflamed nipples. The belt lashing those tits will be the worst pain you ever felt. But here's the deal. All you have to do is scream, just make a sound, and I stop, release you and walk out the door and out of your life. It's your choice. Oh, and one more thing....."
Bob leaned forward and pressed his mouth hard against Randy's. Still gasping for air after the gag, Randy felt the new gag of the mouth and breathed in sharply, sucking the air from Bob's mouth, tasting the essence of this extraordinary man - his captor, torturer ..... and lover. He gasped again, breathing in and out, desperate for more of the man's breath. But Bob pulled his mouth away and ran his stubbled chin hard over Randy's lips, his cheeks and forehead.
Randy was driven wild ..... he wanted Bob more than he ever had before - wanted to give his body up to him, to be worked over, tortured and abused, to apologize, to beg, to prove his love for the man. He knew he couldn't live without him - he would take anything, suffer any pain to stop him leaving. As he gazed up at the rugged avenger towering over him, stripped to the waist, the belt in his hand, he moaned, "Whip me, sir ...... please, hurt me ..... I won't scream ..... please, sir ..... whip me."
Staring down at him Bob saw himself all that time ago, tied to the bed and it all flooded back - the agony and torture he had suffered at the merciless hands of this man. "Mother-fucker," he screamed, raised the belt and slammed it across the construction worker's chest, across his ravaged tits. Randy's body jerked, his eyes opened wide, spurting tears and his mouth opened in a silent scream. The searing pain in his tits was the worst pain he had ever felt and his entire body flexed hard, his fists clenched as he pulled frantically against his restraints.
Another blow fell, then another. Bob stared down at the beautiful naked bodybuilder, at the magnificent, muscular body thrashing in agony, jerking under the lash, sinewy muscles gleaming with sweat, the rugged features twisting in pain, the stubbled jaw clenched to prevent any sound escaping. He was magnificent, more beautiful writhing under torture than he had ever been and, incredibly, his cock was roaring hard. Bob whipped his chest again and again, but finally the sight of the beautiful agonized man with his iron determination not to scream, lessened Bob's anger and he lowered the belt.
Randy's tears stopped flowing and he gazed up at the glorious face staring down at him. Even in this agonizing scene of suffering and retribution their eyes met and ..... it was still there, stronger than ever, that mystical union of souls from which they could never escape. Randy's pain-racked body shuddered, then flexed, his breathing became ragged, he gazed pleadingly at Bob .... and his cock exploded in a shower of cum that rose in the air and splashed down on his whip-striped chest and ravaged nipples.
Bob grabbed his own cock, stroked it a few times, pointed it down and blasted hot juice that slammed into Randy's face. He stared down at the naked, bound muscle-god, the King of the Gypsies, his muscles striped by the whip, his chest heaving, his face and body smothered in cum. It was the most beautiful sight Bob had ever seen.
"Now you know how it felt, man - to be tied up and brutalized. But you didn't stop there, did you? The physical pain was bad enough, but then you started on my mind - the degradation, the humiliation as you made me crawl across the floor and eat from a bowl like a dog. You debased me, man ..... and then left me alone. That was the worst ......" Bob pulled something from the black bag and held it up. "Remember this, asshole?"
Randy's eyes opened wide and he gasped in fear. "Yeah, terrified me too. But you've gotta learn how it feels. Bob bent down and pulled the black leather hood over Randy's head and face and fastened it round his neck. There were zipped slits for the eyes and mouth but Bob left them closed. He knew from experience that Randy could breathe fine and would come to no harm - not physically anyway. His mind was another matter. No light, no sound, spread-eagled in bondage. All he could do was wait ...... and think.
Bob ripped off the torn remains of his tank, used it to wipe the sweat from his face and chest, then tossed it across Randy's chest. He pulled on his sleeveless denim shirt, checked one last time that Randy was not hurting in any way ..... and left the room. Randy felt a moment of panic as he sensed that Bob was no longer there. He was alone, abandoned ...... would Bob come back? He had to, if only to release him. So Randy resigned himself to his fate, alone with his thoughts.
Sensually deprived of sight and sound Randy was left with taste and smell. It was all Bob - the overwhelming smell and taste of his semen that still smothered his face and grew warmer and more pungent under the hood. The feel of his sweat-soaked tank lying across his raw nipples, hurting them every time he breathed. Bob ..... Bob .... He felt no more anger, no need for revenge, only a gnawing hunger and insatiable lust for him. And there was no more denial. He still felt pain blazing through his body but ..... it was Bob's pain! ..... the pain he had inflicted that first time, and then so often afterwards, on the man he loved, the man he worshipped.
For the first time he realized the full extent of what he had done. All his life he had been the boss, the master, using physical force to get what he wanted and keep it. Then Bob had come along and Randy wanted him so he took him, by force at first, and then used force to keep him. He didn't trust love - the only thing he had ever trusted was his physical supremacy, so that's what he used on Bob. Love, pure and simple, would have done fine, but love like that for another man was something he had never felt, he couldn't trust it, so in his arrogance he resorted to force. If he had to put a collar round Bob's neck and tie him down, even whip him into submission - so be it. He needed to own him.
The enormity of his mistake overwhelmed him and he started to sob. His words were muffled by the hood as he murmured, "I'm sorry, man. Forgive me ..... no, that's what I've always said before, and you did forgive me, but I did it again. I dunno man ....." The image of the gorgeous muscle-stud in the ragged tank with his stubbled chin and blazing eyes flashed vividly before him. "Do whatever you have to, buddy. I can take it - I can take anything just so long as you don't leave me. I don't deserve you, man, I know that, but please ....."
Bob's entrance into the shabby bar round the corner caused a stir, as it always did wherever he went. It was a slow night, but every head there turned to look at the spectacularly handsome man who had just walked in. Under the dim lights, men who were looking to pick up girls surreptitiously stroked the sudden bulges at their crotch. The barmaid was drooling when she gave Bob his beer but he ignored her, lost as he was in his own thoughts.
He was sitting on the same barstool he had used when he first caught sight of the grimy, muscular construction worker sitting at the bar. So long ago ...... And now here he was again, and that same construction worker was in the old motel, bound, hooded, his body racked with pain. What's going through Randy's mind? Bob wondered. And what the hell am I doing with him? His treatment of Randy did not come naturally to him. Bob was a man of reason and conciliation, not brute force like this .... like Randy was.
But that was the point. Bob was speaking to Randy in the only language he really understood. In fact all this time, despite the passionate feelings they shared, when it came to communication they often spoke two different languages. Bob's was the language of compassion, Randy's the language of confrontation. Bob wanted desperately to go back to Randy but not on the same terms as before, and this was the only way he knew to jolt Randy and transform their relationship. And he knew he was having an effect when Randy had looked up at him, still tied up and racked with pain, and had blasted a load of semen high in the air.
Bob had inflicted intense physical pain on Randy in an eye-for-an-eye retribution, no worse than Randy had subjected him to so many times. But Randy had applied one other form of abuse that for Bob was even worse than physical pain - public humiliation. The degradation Randy had inflicted on him recently in the desert bar - leaving him naked, beaten and humiliated hanging on the wall in front of a crowd of men - had been the last straw. Randy had to know how that felt. It would not be easy for Bob, and tough on Randy, but he shrugged off his scruples, drained his beer and walked resolutely from the bar.
Randy knew that Bob had come back, even though he could not see or hear. He just knew whenever Bob was close. He felt the hood being loosened and pulled off and, as his eyes adjusted, he found himself gazing up at the man who now obsessed him. Bob looked down at the rugged, stubbled face, pouring with sweat, semen and tears, his black hair matted to his forehead. It was intensely erotic and Bob felt his cock get hard in his jeans.
Randy was terrified that Bob would release him and walk out of his life, so he felt relief wash over him when he heard him say, "I'm taking you home." Randy started to speak but Bob silenced him. "But before I do there's one more trial you have to go through. A few weeks ago at that bar you humiliated me, the latest in a long line of humiliations. You tied me up in public and fucked me brutally with everyone watching. Just like you, I am a proud, strong alpha male but you treated me like a captured animal. You have to know how that feels, Randy - how public humiliation feels.
"Anything man," Randy said humbly. "I'll do whatever you say." Bob reached down and untied him, but left the leather restraints buckled separately round each of his wrists and ankles. He pulled him to his feet and Randy stood before him, his head hanging down in subservience. Bob reached into the bag one last time and pulled out a wide, studded leather collar, which he buckled round Randy's neck.
He picked up Randy's torn undershorts that he had used as a gag, shook them open, pulled them up over his legs and secured them round his waist so the shredded remains hung down, barley covering his huge cock swinging between his legs. He put Randy's boots in front of him, pulled them open and guided his feet into them. Then, gathering up the ropes that had secured Randy to the bed, Bob pulled him by the collar, opened the door and led him outside.
There was a ceiling beam in the room that jutted right through to the outside under the roof. Bob threw the longer rope over it, attached the ends to Randy's wrist restraints and pulled his arms up so they were stretched high. The shorter rope he attached to the ankle restraints, tying his feet close together. Finally Bob fetched his own torn tank top, twisted it and tied it round Randy's mouth in a gag.
Bob checked to make sure he was securely tied, then startled Randy by walking over to his Mercedes. Randy panicked that he would drive away, but that didn't happen. Instead Bob got in, reclined the big leather seat a little, pulled his cock out of his jeans and stroked it. His car was facing Room 14 from across the small parking lot and he had a clear view of the prisoner bound naked outside it.
"Jesus Christ," Bob breathed. The muscular construction worker was pulled taut as if his body was being stretched on the rack, his biceps bulging, his chest and ripped abs flexed rock hard. His incredible body gleamed under the porch light, buck naked except for the shredded shorts hanging from his waist and the boots on his feet, laces hanging wide open. The wide leather collar round his thick neck set off his handsome, dark, square-jawed face, the face of a rugged gypsy grimacing in humiliation, biting into his gag.
It was an extraordinary sight, like a scene from a pornographic S&M fantasy where the big, muscular construction boss is tied up naked and left helpless on full degrading display, awaiting his fate. Bob stopped beating his meat as he was so close to cumming, and he sat back to watch and wait.
At first the only sound was the muffled noise of traffic out on Hollywood Boulevard, drivers passing the shabby motel, unaware that in the enclosed parking lot a bodybuilder was bound naked and helpless, vulnerable to anyone who came in. And so time passed with Randy numb with apprehension about what would come next. Once or twice he looked up at his bound wrists and tugged at then, twisting his stretched body. He pulled himself up toward the beam, trying to break the ropes, his bound legs thrashing in the air, but he dropped to the ground in defeat. He was bound tight ("I learned from the master...."). And always he was aware that Bob was watching him from the comfort of his Mercedes.
Occasionally voices could be heard. As people left the bar drunken voices and raucous laughter could be heard from the sidewalk but Randy was hidden from view and they passed by. Until ..... Through the archway a man and a woman walked unsteadily across the parking lot toward their room, but they lurched to a halt unable to believe their eyes.
"Shit damn," the man said, "will you look at that?" They walked over to Randy and the big hefty guy ran his hands over Randy's chest and abs. "Shit this guy works out!" he said, his words slurring. "But look at those tits, they've been worked over big time." He squeezed the nipples hard and Randy winced in pain, howling into his gag.
Two more guys staggered into the lot and came over to see what was going on. They were fat and bearded, stinking of booze and piss. "They too ran their hands over Randy's body and he tensed as their clammy hands mauled him. With every fiber of his being he wanted to punch, kick, but he was helplessly stretched in bondage and had to endure their hands on him.
One of the guys said, "Shit, take a look at these marks across his chest. This stud's been whipped good. He probably pissed off some guy, fucked his girl or something, and he's being tortured for it. And look at that stuff on his chest - fuck, it's dried jism. Hell, we better not mess with this. The guys who did this must be plenty mad and they'll be back. Let's watch from inside."
The woman stroked Randy's chest one last time, reached down and felt his cock. "Oh, honey," she slurred, "would I like to fell that club inside me! Any time you're free, sugar," which made them all whoop with laughter. "Tell you what," her guy said, "if he's for sale by his owner I'll buy him for you, work him over real good, and then make him fuck you while I whip him - that sound good?" They laughed again as they went to their respective rooms.
Randy hung there after being mauled and jeered at, feeling like a tethered animal for sale.
After a brief silence an old Nissan rattled into the parking lot and two young, skinny guys got out. They couldn't have been older than twenty and looked the worse for liquor, having spent a couple of frustrating hours cruising the Silver Lake leather bars and coming up empty handed. But their luck was about to change. "Dude..." one of them said, "what the fuck?" They stumbled across the lot and gazed awestruck at the naked captive bodybuilder.
"Shit, dude," the scrawny youth said," this is straight out of Tom of Finland. He's fucking gorgeous .... and that gag and the collar round his neck .... looks like some S&M fantasy going on here." "Yeah," said the other, "and look at these whip marks on his chest. This guy's been fucking worked over." He leaned forward to lick the stripes, but recoiled. "Dude, the fucker stinks of sweat and tastes of stale jism. The guys who tortured him must have busted their loads all over him." He licked Randy's raw nipples making him flex hard and groan into his gag.
"Hey, man, we better get out of here before the guys come back to work on him some more. They must be pretty brutal to have broken a muscle-stud like this fucker. Hey, wait a minute - feel this, dude!" His buddy followed his lead and groped under the ripped shorts. "Shit damn, that's a fucking huge piece of meat, man. I gotta get me a mouthful of that. Keep a lookout for me, 'case the guy comes back." He dropped to his knees and Randy winced as the boy grabbed his half-hard cock and stuffed it into his mouth. He sucked on it hungrily and, despite himself, Randy felt his cock getting hard.
After working hard on the thick rod the boy pulled back and gasped, "Shit, dude, this is prime beef. Here grab some for yourself." The other youth knelt beside him and took the now-hard shaft deep into his mouth. The two scrawny boys worked feverishly, taking it in turns to suck the massive cock of the tortured muscle-hunk hanging helplessly before them.
It was the ultimate scene of abject degradation. The construction boss, the rugged, muscular master, the King of the Gypsies, had been whipped and punched, his tits and balls tortured, and he was now hanging naked, gagged, in full view, sneered at, laughed at, mauled by grimy hands running over his ravaged chest. And now, the final humiliation, two skinny youths were taking turns to suck his cock as he hung bound and helpless. He was dimly aware that others were watching from their windows. Like a captive slave he was on humiliating public display.
And all this Bob watched from his car, stroking his rock-hard cock. His reticence about subjecting Randy to this misery was overcome by lust as he gazed in awe at the incredible spectacle. It was pornographic ..... Randy had never looked more magnificent. Mesmerized, Bob was pounding his cock furiously as he pushed back into his seat, his body tensed and ..... "aaagh!" he blasted a load of pent-up jism all over the dashboard.
But as soon as he had cum he was overcome with guilt at what he was doing. Sure, Randy had degraded him in public, but he had never let any stranger touch him, let alone suck his cock. Bob had learned from Randy to take a man to the limits of his endurance - and then a bit over, and that's what he was doing. But it was too far, too much. Now it was Bob who was out of control and he hated himself for it. He had to put a stop to it, all of it. He zipped up his pants.
Meanwhile, Randy knew there was only one thing he could do to end his torment. As the boys worked on his cock he closed his eyes and thought of Bob, the man he had brutalized and who had now taken brutal revenge. He wanted desperately for them to make love, soft, sweet love in the comfort of their own bed. He imagined Bob, that beautiful man with the soft brown eyes staring down at him, fucking his ass tenderly, lovingly ... God, he wanted Bob to fuck him.
But suddenly the image shifted and Bob was sucking his cock, taking it deep into his throat. His gorgeous lover was sucking his cock .... he had to cum .... shoot in his lover's mouth .... here it comes, buddy .... "Aagh!" He screamed into his gag ..... his gag? He opened his eyes and jolted back to the horrifying reality that he was cumming in a boy's mouth. Then another mouth took its turn and drank the semen pouring into it. The boys stood up and together ground their mouths over his .... he tasted his own cum, smelled the beer on their breath, gagged to stopped himself from throwing up and closed his eyes in an agony of humiliation.
"That's enough!" The deep voice rang across the lot. The boys whirled round and one said, "It's one of the other guys come back. Shit, look at him, he's incredible." Bob was striding toward them, looking formidable with the denim shirt hanging open over his chest, the belt hanging from his fist. "Get the fuck out of here, assholes," Bob yelled. He raised the belt and whipped them as they cowered and stumbled away to their room and slammed the door behind them.
For one wild minute Randy thought Bob was going to whip him next, subject him to a public flogging while everyone watched and cheered him on. But Bob pushed his hand gently under Randy's chin and raised his head. Their eyes met in a penetrating gaze and, even in this miserable place, as they saw their own reflection in the other's eyes, they became one in that magical world of their own. But this was a new world, a bright world of true equals, purged of anger, conflict, and the fear of separation .... the former sepia world was now shining with color.
As Randy gazed into the soft brown eyes tears began flowing down his cheeks - tears of penitence for the pain he had caused this man, for all the mistakes he had made. Through his sobs he said, "I'm sorry, man .... so sorry. I love you, buddy."
Bob said simply, "I'm taking you home." He went into the room and picked up the room key and the keys to Randy's truck. With one last look at the room that had featured so large in his life, he walked out and locked the door behind him. He knelt at Randy's feet, gazed up at the naked muscle-god stretched above him, and untied the rope from his legs. He got to his feet, reached up and freed his wrists. The instant Randy's arms dropped down to his sides Bob pulled them behind his back and re-clipped the wrist restraints behind him, then he threaded the rope through the ring on his collar.
Pushing his shoulder into Randy's abs he slung him over his shoulder. Under the astonished eyes of spectators behind windows he walked across the parking lot with the broken muscleman slumped over his shoulder, naked except for his unlaced boots, the shreds of fabric round his waist and the leather collar round his neck. At the truck Bob pulled down the tailgate and heaved his load onto the tarpaulins in the flatbed of the truck and closed the tailgate. He looked down at the naked, beaten man. "One last memory, buddy. Remember the time you drove me from the desert in the back of the truck with my hands tied? This is how it felt."
He jumped into the cab and drove out of the parking lot, leaving the Mercedes behind him, with Randy's naked body rolling from one side of the truck to the other with each bend in the road. As he drove out of Hollywood headed for home, Bob phoned Mark. "Good, you're there, Mark. I know it's late, buddy, but I'm bringing Randy home .... yeah, that's right ..... so could you leave the gate open? Thanks, man."
In the bedroom Mark turned to Jamie's questioning face beside him and explained the call. While Mark got dressed Jamie called Darius with the news, knowing that's all it would take. Within minutes everyone knew, even the guys in other houses. The news was so momentous that everyone was soon gathered in the garden and the twins had already brought out coffee. All the outside lights were on and, with so many men sitting around, the garden resembled a stage set. The performance was to be short and shocking.
The buzz of conversation died as soon as they heard a truck pull up outside. A door banged, then the tailgate clanged open. They were all holding their breath, but they gasped when Bob came through the gate - a new, rugged Bob dressed in old jeans, boots and a sleeveless denim shirt, a two-week growth of stubble on his square jaw and his tousled dark hair falling over his forehead. Over his shoulder he had a rope, pulling behind him .....
The place fell silent as they saw Randy pulled through the gate, the rope attached to the collar round his neck, hands tied behind his back. The powerful, dark gypsy muscle-god was also a changed man. Naked except for his unlaced boots and the shredded undershorts hanging from his waist, his muscles were striped with obvious marks of the whip, his body was gleaming with sweat and smothered with dried cum. The dry traces of tears streaked his face and there was dried cum round his mouth. The man had obviously been tortured and broken and they all gazed spellbound as he stumbled across the grass in abject submission.
The two men disappeared through the doorway leading up to their suite leaving behind them a stunned group of men and boys, their conversation resuming in a burst of amazement and excited speculation. Eddie, who had been severely affected by the recent turmoil, having so recently been rescued by his hero Randy, sat frowning in confusion. "Sir," he said to Mark, "does that mean that Randy and Bob are back together like before?"
Mark smiled at him. "Oh, they're back together alright, kid, but not like before. It'll never be like before. But I'll tell you this .... I'm pretty sure they're closer than ever, and there's no way they will ever break up again. Does that put your mind at rest, young Eddie?"
"Yes, sir - thank you, sir," Eddie beamed.
Upstairs the men were facing each other. Bob unbuckled the collar from Randy's neck and released the restraints from his wrists. Instantly they locked in a passionate embrace, arms wrapped tight around each other, mouths clamped together in a ravenous kiss. When they separated the eyes of both men were brimming with tears. Bob said, "I went too far, man - that last thing in the parking lot - I let it get out of control ...."
Randy put his finger to Bob's mouth to silence him. "No, buddy, you did the right thing. You know me, it has to be really over-the-top to get through my thick skull and make me understand .... and now I do, buddy. Besides, you looked fucking spectacular, man." He ran the back of his hand lightly over the dark stubble on Bob's chin that turned him on so much. "Especially this," he grinned.
Overcome with emotion Bob turned his head and looked round the room - pristine, sparkling clean with a huge bowl of flowers on the table. He smiled and relaxed. "Look at that - that's the twins. I bet they've kept the room like this every day since we......" He was on shaky ground and took refuge in practicalities. "What we need right now, buddy, is a hot shower."
They showered together but without touching each other in the spacious twin shower, not sure of the new boundaries of their relationship. After they dried off they wrapped towels round their waist and .... and hesitated at what came next. They were saved by a knock on the door. "Come in." The door opened slowly and Eddie poked his head inside. Seeing them near naked, he blushed. "Oh, sorry, sirs, I didn't know ..... I shouldn't have come .... sorry, sirs."
"Hey, Eddie," Randy called out to him, "come in boy, don't be shy. What's up?"
Eddie edged into the room and stammered, "Sir, I couldn't .... I mean I wanted ...." he cleared his throat ..... "I just wanted to say thank you for coming back home, sir. I couldn't stand it when ..... I mean, if you had gone away, I couldn't have ..... I mean, you saved me, sir, you're my hero." He swallowed hard. "You are going to stay aren't you, sir?"
"Come here kid." Randy opened his arms and Eddie fell into them, feeling safe against the muscular body of his hero. "I'm not gonna leave you, kid, or the other guys. You can go down there and tell them that if you like." Eddie looked up at Bob who smiled at him and said, "Since you're here Eddie I have a big favor to ask. Here ...." He handed Eddie the keys to his Mercedes, and the door keys to the motel room and to his bungalow at the Beverly Hills Hotel.
"First thing in the morning I'd like you to collect Nate and the twins and drive down to the motel. You know where it is?"
"Oh yes, sir - everyone knows that." Bob grinned. "OK, I want you to clean the stuff out of Randy's room, number 14, and pay the bill at the office with my credit card here. You bring the stuff back here while the twins pick up my Mercedes from the parking lot and drive it over to the Beverly Hills, pick up all my clothes from my bungalow there and check me out at the reception desk." He laughed, "Sorry - it's a bit like cleaning up after the parade has gone by, but you think you and the guys can manage that?"
"Absolutely, sir," Eddie beamed, proud to be entrusted with such an important job. He gave Bob a quick hug and almost skipped out of the room. The two men smiled after him, then turned to each other and sat together on the bed. "You know, buddy," Randy said, "all the time I was without you - and especially today at the motel - one thought kept me going. The thought of you fucking my ass. Shit, man, you look so fucking hot like that, such a fucking.... stud. Please, Bob - please make love to me and fuck me."
"I fully intend to," Bob grinned, but then turned serious. But I need to say a few things to clear the air - lay a few ground rules if you like. What's happened between us is just between us. As far as the other guys and the boys are concerned you are still the big boss and always will be. Hell, you're a natural leader and nobody can deny that."
"As for us, I'll still think of you as the rough, macho construction worker who drives me wild with lust. I still want you to fuck me the way you always have - I can't get enough of that - only it has to be because we both want it, not because you've flown into a rage and lost control. It's the rugged alpha male in you that I love. It's just that now there'll be two of us."
"A couple more things. While we were apart Mark was a good friend to me and we had sex several times - hot sex. You know that Mark and I love each other and so we'll be having sex from time to time, with no fear of you losing your temper and beating him up. Within the group you and I can have all the sex we want - and nobody gets jealous, OK?" Randy grinned at him. "OK - just as long as I get to watch you and Mark fuck once in a while. That would be so fucking beautiful."
"And finally," Bob said, "to make sure all this works I want us to have regular therapy sessions with Steve to keep us on the right track. First thing tomorrow we should make an appointment."
"Fuck that shit," Randy bristled, "I don't have to make an appointment to see my own fucking brother!" Bob shot him a warning look and Randy instantly calmed down and grinned. "Sorry, man - that was the old Randy rearing his head there. And I know what happens when I do that." He looked down at his chest and touched his nipples gingerly. He took Bob's face in his hands and kissed him gently. "OK, buddy, agreed. But Steve's methods can get pretty wild, so we better be ready for that."
They slipped off the towels and climbed into bed between the cool white sheets. They held each other close, their faces rubbing against each other. Randy pulled back and said, "Oh, that reminds me - I have one condition of my own." He face broke into a grin. "Just don't shave for a while, man. You look so damn hot like that."
"Asshole," Bob smiled. "Come here...."
TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" - Chapter 196