House-moving day for Ranger Pete had so far been a lot more than he bargained for, especially having to deal with a truckload of rowdy, insolent boys.
He had given them a tongue lashing for driving dangerously and had later risen to their challenge of proving himself tough enough to be a master. He had been spit-roasted - fucked by Darius's monster cock while getting his face ploughed by Pablo. The boys were awestruck by his endurance and they now knew for sure that there was a new master in the house.
Pete had finally been left alone with Nate to arrange the furniture in the room he would rent temporarily in Adam and Nate's house until the bungalow up the hill had been renovated. "Hey Nate," Pete said, "you've done a great job cleaning up the room. Thanks a million."
"Ah, no worries, sir. It was a pleasure. Shouldn't take us long to straighten out your things here. First, let me show you round the house so you know where everything is. There's not much to see." They passed by a door that was firmly shut and Pete asked, "What's in there?"
Nate blushed a little. "Oh, that's the basement, sir, a kinda special room. It's Adam's really and it's where he takes me to ... well .... to play, sir. I'd rather let Adam show you that himself."
"I get the picture," Pete grinned. "Where is Adam, by the way?"
"He's out with Zack. They often go out bike-riding on the two Harleys. See, Adam and Zack are both big into leather - belong to a bikers' club - so they ride out together and, I gotta say, they look real hot in their leather outfits. And when Adam comes home is when he takes me ...."
".... down to the basement, eh?"
Pete was intrigued and even felt a stirring in his cock. He was surprised how horny he was after the trip. Getting double fucked had been a real turn on, but it had given him an urge to reassert his masculinity - be a top man again. He began to feel sorry he had let Brandon go with Mario but ... ah well ... later.
He watched the handsome young Aussie move around the room, wearing only his usual thin boxer shorts and unlaced sneakers. Pete grinned, thinking how much more beautiful a boy looked when he was unaware he was being watched. He could see why Adam was so crazy about him, and if the situation were different he would have ....
Damn, he thought, feeling his dick get hard. He had been determined to curb his sexual compulsion, knowing that would be a challenge surrounded by gorgeous men and boys. He really needed a session with Dr. Steve, and anyway he had Brandon now. After his experience today, he felt a new confidence and had finally decided to ask Brandon to become his boy.
So he tried to ignore the boner in his jeans and his growing lust for the young Aussie. To stifle his urges he directed all his energy into the work of moving in. Only the bed was left. The frame and box spring was already in place and Nate was struggling to throw the mattress on top. Pete got behind him to help hold the edges, the bulge in his pants pressing against Nate's ass. They managed to throw the mattress down but it took the two of them with it. They fell forward on top of it, both of them laughing at their clumsy success.
Nate's face was close to Pete's and in his exuberance Nate kissed him. It was just a friendly kiss but it triggered something in Pete. He grabbed Nate's head and pressed their mouths hard together, pushing his tongue between the boy's lips. His cock was rock hard and he felt the bulge in Nate's shorts. But Nate managed to pull away and said, "Sir, I don't think we should ... I mean, I'd like to but I should get permission from Adam first. He would be so angry if ...."
"Sorry, kid, it's just that I'm so fucking horny and I need to fuck. Just let me get a look at that ass. He pulled down Nate's shorts, yanked open his own jeans and pulled out his raging cock.
"Sir, no, we mustn't," said Nate with increasing desperation. "I gotta ask Adam. And what about Brandon, sir? I thought you loved him and he was gonna be your boy."
The mention of Brandon was like a slap in Pete's face. His head cleared, he snapped back to reality and realized with horror what he was doing. "I must be fucking insane," he groaned, realizing that he had succumbed to his sexual addiction. "I'm so sorry, Nate. Are you OK? Forgive me, kid ...I didn't mean any of that."
"It's OK, sir," Nate said. "No worries, mate - no harm done. Just a bit scared is all."
Pete rolled away from him onto his back, leaving Nate on his stomach with his shorts pulled down below his ass. Pete closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his head in shame. His cock was still hanging out of his pants ... when the door opened.
"Bloody hell!" the deep Australian voice yelled. "What the fuck's going on here?"
Pete's eyes snapped open and he found himself staring at a formidable sight. It was Adam, the tall, handsome Aussie dressed in full leather - leather pants and boots, a black leather biker's jacket hanging open revealing a studded harness crossed over the mounds of his chest.
"You mother-fucking bastard," Adam roared. "So that's why you wanted to come here - to fuck my boy!" His eyes blazing, Adam yanked the belt out of his pants, raised his arm and lashed the belt hard across the Ranger's bare chest. Pete howled and instinctively rolled over to protect himself, only to feel another ferocious lash on his back.
Nate sprang to his feet and fell against Adam, tripping on his shorts that were now round his knees. "Sir, please, please - it's not what you think..."
"Not what I bloody think?! I don't have to think, boy, I can see with my own damn eyes - you bare-ass on the bed and this bloke next to you with a stiff dick sticking out of his pants. A blind man could see what's bloody-well going on here, mate."
"But nothing really happened, sir. I admit that I would have liked it but I knew I had to ask you first so he rolled off me."
Pete stuffed his cock into his pants, staggered to his feet and came to Nate's defense. "It's true, Adam, your boy has no blame in this. I ... I forced myself on him and would have fucked him if he hadn't pushed me away. I have no excuse, man. I've been a damned fool."
This confession mollified Adam's rage a bit. At least the man had defended Nate's honor and taken the blame. But it couldn't end there. "So that's it? You try to rape my boy, say you're sorry ... and we forget it ever happened?"
"Of course not, Adam. In your shoes I'd fucking thrash any bastard who did that to a boy of mine. I'm guilty and ready to submit to whatever you do to me."
Adam's eyes bored threateningly into Pete's as he waited for his heaving breaths to subside. When he finally spoke his voice was cold with menace. "OK, I accept what you say, and there's only one way to settle this." He pushed Pete out of the bedroom and unlocked the cellar door he had seen earlier. Adam shoved the Ranger roughly down the stairs into pitch darkness.
A short time later Pete was alone. In the total blackness he had been manhandled to what he supposed was the middle of the room. Leather restraints were clamped round his wrists, his arms pulled upward and, judging by the sound, attached to chains shoulder width apart.
Then he was left alone, his arms stretched up in a V, in complete darkness and silence... alone with his thoughts, a worse torture than his physical predicament. He wasn't afraid of what would happen to him ... nothing could be worse than the agony of his own shame.
Of course he was thinking of how he had betrayed Brandon. The crazy thing was that he had met the boy only yesterday but so much had happened since then that it seemed like a long time ago. It felt like he had had always known the boy - his tone of voice and mischievous smile, his laughter, his naked body, his beautiful ass. Something this fast, seemingly so impossible, had knocked him off balance. After his initial confusion he was now sure what he felt for him - it was love. But now he had ruined everything. It was all over.
How could he make Brandon his boy, protect him and make him happy when he himself was such a fuck-up? What had happened with Nate was not an aberration. Pete was addicted to sex - his cock took over from his brain - and the same thing would surely happen again with someone else. That was his history - a different girl every night - and it would take many therapy sessions with Steve to break the mold. In the meantime he could not dedicate himself to a boy of his own, especially a boy as vulnerable as Brandon.
So as he stood bound and stretched in this silent blackness he didn't care what happened to him. Let Adam take his revenge, punish his body. He deserved whatever the Aussie dished out. Sure, he had not actually raped Nate but that had been his intention. It's just that Nate had been level-headed enough to talk him out of it. What would happen next time? He was a dangerous man. He could never be Brandon's master.
Such were the thoughts racing through his agonized mind when he saw a dim red light. The lights in the room were getting brighter, spotlights that rose to a bright red shining down on him. The windowless cellar was painted black - walls and ceiling - but there was an abundance of mirrors. As his eyes became accustomed to the light he found himself looking at multiple reflections ... of himself.
It was surreal, like looking at a stranger. He stared at the handsome Ranger, stripped to the waist in black jeans and boots, his arms stretched tight upward. His muscular torso - shoulders, arms and hairy chest - rippled with the pressure on his body. He looked up and saw, as he had expected, that his wrists were attached to chains hanging from the ceiling.
Hanging on the walls were items of equipment from Adam's leather world - chains, restraints, paddles, whips - all stuff the macho Aussie no doubt used when he and his boy "played" as Nate had called it. And in the middle of it all hung the shirtless Ranger, awaiting his fate. The sight was homoerotic and Pete was shocked to feel his cock getting hard in his jeans.
Up to now he had never been turned on by bondage and discipline, the master/slave sexual fantasies that Adam obviously indulged in, but as he pulled at his wrist restraints and heard the chains rattle his feeling of helplessness sent a hot rush through his bound body.
And what of Nate? Was he into leather like Adam or was he simply indulging his master? He soon got his answer. He heard the sound of boots on the stairs, the door opened ... and there stood Nate. But a very different boy from the cheerful young Aussie he was used to.
Nate looked strikingly hot dressed in leather .... black boots and shiny black leather chaps with nothing underneath, the white globes of his naked ass bulging out of the chaps. He wore a leather vest hanging open over his otherwise naked chest, and on his head was a soft leather cap with the peak slanted to one side, his hair poking out the front. With his cheeky face he looked cute but, at the same time, the perfect image of a handsome young leather-boy.
And he was a leather-boy doing the bidding of his master. Without a word he pulled off the wall a cat o' none tails, a whip with a dozen rawhide braids, and draped it round the Ranger's neck. Then he retreated to a corner of the room, stood with his hands behind his back ... and waited.
The ritualistic nature of the scene scared Pete. He looked at the Ranger in the mirror, bare chested with a whip round his neck, his muscles stretched as if he were a prisoner being tortured on a rack. It was a degrading sight but, worst of all, he knew he deserved it. The sight of Nate had brought back the image of his inexcusable act and he hung his head in shame.
Again he heard the sound of boots on the stairs and the door opening. He didn't look up as he felt the whip being pulled from his neck. The handle was pressed under his chin and pushed his face up until he found himself staring into the coldly menacing brown eyes of the leather-master.
Adam looked spectacular. He had shed the jacket and now the perfection of his muscularity was on full display under the studded leather harness crossed over the slabs of his pecs. His broad shoulders flexed as he held the whip in his fist, his biceps tense, flared lats slanting down past his ripped abs to his slim waist, the tight leather pants hugging his hips.
Pete flinched but then instinctively regained a look of defiance. He was a Ranger, goddammit. He was tough enough to take anything this Aussie could throw at him. But still he was forced to look into Adam's eyes, with the whip handle supporting his chin. And then he heard the leatherman's deep Australian drawl.
"So, mate, you wanted to fuck my boy's ass - nigh on raped him. I thought I could trust you but apparently not. But I can trust my boy here and he told me the whole story - how you exposed his ass and pulled out your cock. He always tells me the truth, and he confessed he would have liked getting fucked by a hot Ranger like you but knew he had to get my permission.
"He remembered the times I've got angry with him and tied him up like you are now and whipped and fucked him. He go off on that but he knew I'd have really lost my cool if I'd caught him getting his ass ploughed by the lodger - stud Ranger or not - without permission. I admire his honesty so you know what, mate? I'm gonna reward it. I'm gonna give him permission to get fucked by you. 'Course, I'm gonna be here to help things along a bit."
Pete stared at him in confusion. His earlier hotheaded impulse to fuck Nate had been sheer sexual addiction. Right now the only boy he wanted was Brandon. Even though the hot young leather-boy in the corner with his ass hanging out of his chaps was extremely fuckable, Pete resisted the temptation. He knew he could never be Brandon's master but in spite of everything he still felt a loyalty to the boy. Pete had expected punishment from Adam, but never this. Against all logic the leather-master was practically ordering him to fuck his own boy.
"Hey, boy. Get your ass over here," Adam ordered. Nate jumped to obey and stood a few feet in front of Pete with his back to him, his ass cheeks on full display popping out of his chaps.
"See that ass, Ranger? I tell you from experience that is one hot young ass to fuck - warm, juicy, it wraps around a man's cock and drains it dry. So you're in luck, man. You get to feel what you tried to take by force - because I'm giving you permission. And you better fuck him good, man, 'cause he's hungry for cock and I always make sure my boy gets what he wants. And I'm betting you want it too. Shit, you tried to rape him after all."
This was all going in a weird direction for Pete and he pulled instinctively, but helplessly, at his restraints. His stupid attempt to force himself on Nate had deadened his desire to fuck him, and he resented like hell being given 'permission' by the Aussie, leather-master or not.
"So let's see how much you want that ass, man." Adam came close and ripped open Pete's jeans. "Well what d'ya know? Will you look at that?" Instead of a rigid pole rearing up, the cock that flopped out of the jeans was limp - long, thick, but swinging down listlessly between his legs. So resistant to the Aussie's arrogant command to fuck, Pete's lack of an erection was a gesture of defiance. And it made Adam angry.
He flicked the whip at the long cock several times making it swing wildly as the Ranger groaned and pulled at his chains. Adam snarled, "This thing here, mate, is an insult to my boy and to me. Look at me, man." Adam held out his arms and flexed his muscles, an icon of macho leather dominance. "Do I look like a man who takes insults? Damn you, man, my boy wants that dick in his ass and by god he's gonna get it, even if I have to whip an erection out of you."
Adam flicked the whip higher, over Pete's abs and up to his chest. He increased the speed and strength of his blows until the Ranger was groaning in pain and flexing his hairy chest to absorb the lashes biting into his pecs. He reflexively pulled desperately at his restraints and his body writhed in a futile attempt at escape.
Still, he stared defiantly into his tormentor's eyes - those brown eyes set in the ruggedly handsome face with its chiseled features and square jaw. Pete watched the leather-god's muscles ripple as he flogged him and, despite the pain in his chest, felt his cock stirring.
"That's better, mate," Adam said. "So let's turn up the heat ... I wanna see that rod get hard enough to fuck my boy." He stood back, unclipped the harness from his chest and tossed it aside. Pete gasped as he saw the leatherman stripped to the waist, in heavy boots and leather pants that hugged his hips and thighs. The Ranger's cock pulsed at the sight.
"Not good enough," Adam barked. "I want it rock hard for my boy. Let's stop fooling around here." He walked behind Pete and looked at his broad muscled back, stretched upward, lats flared. "Yeah, perfect," Adam growled. He raised the whip and smashed it across the Ranger's back, eliciting a scream that bounced off the walls of the underground cellar. Adam knew what he was doing - knew that the whip was the kind that did not do any real damage.
But the flogging was ferocious, prolonged, as Pete gritted his teeth and endured the pain. He stared into the mirror at the homoerotic torture scene under the red lights. It was like a pornographic drawing - the Ranger, stripped down to his black jeans, stretched in bondage ... the hot young leather-boy displaying the perfect ass waiting to get fucked ... and the shirtless leather-master, his flawless muscles rippling as he lashed his bound captive. And the incessant pain of the whip as the leatherman painted red stripes on the canvass of his broad back.
The image was overwhelming and Pete was suddenly aware that his cock was now standing out as stiff as a pole. "You got what you wanted," the Ranger groaned. "I can't take any more. Please stop, man. I submit. I'm ready to fuck your boy."
Adam dropped the whip and came round to face his boy. He dipped his fingers into a nearby tub of lube, reached round the boy, pressed his greasy fingers into his ass and massaged it. "You OK, mate?" he said softly. "This really what you want?"
"Yes, and yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Adam pushed Nate gently backward and guided his ass onto the prong that was now hard as steel. Nate and Pete both groaned loudly as the Ranger's cock slid all the way into the leather-boy's ass. Adam pushed the cap to the back of Nate's head and kissed him on the mouth as he cupped his hand round his ass cheeks and pushed them back and forth onto the long shaft.
Adam was in complete control, giving his boy the pleasure he craved. Even as he kissed Nate he glanced over his shoulder at the look of ecstasy in the Ranger's eyes. Adam pulled off Nate's mouth and said, "Feel good boy? That how you like it?"
Nate stared into his eyes. "Sir, I ... I would like it harder, sir. I want to feel the Ranger's cock pound my ass."
"You got it, mate." Adam pulled away, picked up the whip he had dropped and went behind his prisoner. He leaned against him and talked to his reflection in the mirror. Man you are one hot fucking alpha male, a real top-man. But look at you now, Ranger, stripped to the waist, body stretched in chains at the mercy of the leather-master. You know I can make you do anything, right?"
"Yeah," Pete moaned grudgingly.
"You can do better than that, stud, let's try again. You admit that I can make you do anything?"
"Yes, sir," the Ranger said, his defiance crumbling.
"Good. Now you have a reputation as a sex-stud, banging anything that walks. Well see, my boy wants you to bang his ass real good. He likes it hard man, and I'm gonna make sure he gets it." Adam pulled back and slammed the whip against the already tender flesh of his back.
"Aaagh!" As Pete's body jerked forward his cock drove hard into the boy's ass and Nate yelled, "Yeah that's it. Make him do it, sir."
So that's what Adam did, whipping the Ranger hard, forcing his cock to piston in and out of the young Aussie's ass. Pete became a fuck machine, jack-hammering the ass of the hot young leather-boy who was leaning forward, his hands on his knees, pushing his ass back onto the pounding shaft. The Ranger was in the macho world of man-sex where all he could feel was the burning pain in his whipped back and the fire in his cock. He was on the rack, tortured by the vengeful leather-stud into fucking his beautiful boy.
It was Nate who brought it to a climax. "Sir, it feels so hot I think I gotta cum. May I, sir?"
"Go for it, kid, while I make the Ranger bust his load in your ass." Adam flexed his muscles and poured all his strength into the flogging.
"You're tough, Ranger, but you know you can't take any more. You tried to rape my boy's ass and now he's raping your cock. Now you know - you hurt a leatherman's boy and you pay. You surrender to him. Let me hear you submit while your cock busts its load in my boy's ass. Do it, man. You know I'm the best. Do it!"
One last brutal lash made the Ranger scream, made his body jerk forward and his cock explode deep in the boy's ass. He kept howling as stream after stream of jizz poured from his cock, and his shouts were joined by Nate's whose shuddering dick blasted cum on the ground.
Nate had got what he wanted - a great fuck. And so had Adam - retribution. And so had Pete (though he hadn't known it) - a new wild sexual experience - the exhilaration of being subjected to bondage, domination and being whipped to submission by a spectacular leatherman.
Adam faced his boy, kissed him and pulled him gently off Pete's cock, which flopped down dripping cum on his boots. "That was a beaut, kid," the Aussie smiled. "You were brilliant."
Then the he confronted the Ranger, his head sagging in exhaustion, his sweat-streaked body hanging limply from the chains, back stinging with pain, cock still shuddering. Once again Adam pressed the end of the whip handle under Pete's chin, raised his head and smiled at him in admiration. "You are one hell of a fucking stud, Ranger. A real man's man. And that's why this is not quite over. See, I knew what I wanted the minute I laid eyes on you yesterday. And now I'm gonna take it - now that I've broken you and you've no fight left."
He stood back and, as before, spread out his arms and flexed his muscles, the shirtless leather-god flaunting his body. "See this, man? I know what you want, but I wanna hear it from you."
Pete saw himself in the mirror, the homoerotic image of the half-naked Ranger hanging from chains in abject surrender to the leather-master facing him. "Fuck you, man," he groaned with his last shred of defiance. But Adam had broken the Ranger's macho spirit into total submission. In an agony of sexual desire Pete howled. "God help me I want your fucking dick in my ass ... I want you to fuck my ass.....!"
Adam grinned at him triumphantly, unzipped his leather pants and pulled out his huge cock, hard as steel. "I'll give you a break, man, I'll warm up your ass first. He dipped his fingers into the jar of lube and spread the thick grease over the handle of the whip. He leaned his face forward, inches from Pete's, reached round him and pushed the whip handle slowly into his ass.
As Pete groaned Adam said, "Look at me, man. These are the eyes of a leather-master, an Aussie stud who's demolished you - chained you up, whipped you, forced you to fuck my boy and now you're begging me to fuck your ass. Now look into the mirror 'cause your gonna see a rare sight - one alpha top-man pound the ass of another. And I'm gonna use your magnificent body to train my boy in how one man dominates another."
Adam greased up his own cock, walked behind the groaning Ranger and looked with satisfaction at the whip hanging out of his ass. "Now that, big guy, is what you call total humiliation. Feel that whip in your ass? That what you want?"
In a delirium of raw lust the Ranger groaned. "Man, I wanna feel your dick in my ass." He was almost sobbing as he pleaded. "Fuck my ass, I need it so bad. Please, sir .... Fuck me ....."
It was time to end it. Adam yanked the whip out of Pete's ass and tossed it to Nate. "Use it, boy ... like I showed you." Adam plunged his stiff rod inside the Ranger's ass and his screams bounced off the wall. Pete flinched as Nate raised the whip and lashed it across his chest. It stung but was not nearly as painful as the pile driver in his ass.
The reflection in the mirror filled him with horror and exhilaration. The Ranger was helplessly chained, his ass being hammered by the leather-master while the leather-boy trainee whipped his pecs. Totally at their mercy he pulled frantically at his chained wrists, his writhing body thrashing in a desperate attempt to shield itself from the attack on his ass and chest.
Hypnotized by the pornographic sight in the mirror Pete lost all restraint and surrendered to the desires long buried deep inside him. He wanted it, craved it - the bondage, the whip, the brutal fuck. "Yeah," he screamed, "Fuck me, whip me ... harder, harder, I wanna it bad ... I wanna feel it ... aaagh!"
He felt Adam's cock pulse and pour its juice deep inside him, felt his boy thrashing his chest ... and he shuddered uncontrollably as his cock erupted in a long stream that splashed on the boys bare chest. "Yeaahh...." He pulled his body up on the chains, legs flailing in the air in an ecstasy of pain and newfound rapture. Then suddenly his muscles gave out, his feet touched the floor and his body went limp, hanging from the chains above him.
He must have passed out and hung semi-conscious until the pain in his arms made him straighten up and open his eyes. He was alone again. In the mirror he saw the shirtless prisoner stretched on the rack, sweat pouring down his whip-striped body, the whip sticking humiliatingly out of his ass.
He saw himself as if for the first time - an authoritarian figure who had been trapped in his own sexual hunger - first forcing himself on Nate, and then, after being swept into the leather world of bondage and domination, losing all restraint and craving to be ass-fucked and whipped by the leather-master and his boy.
As his mind drifted from this newly discovered world he heaved a sob as his thoughts went back to Brandon - that sweet, honest, loving boy who had been so lonely, had endured such hardship, and had come out of it strong, independent and yearning to be loved. He looked again at the broken man in the mirror. There was no way he could be that boy's master ... his sexual appetites would not allow it, would not allow him to be the solid, loyal protector the boy needed and deserved.
The pain he felt was worse than anything Adam could have inflicted. He had lost the boy he could have loved, the boy he could have folded in his arms as his master. All that was gone and he sobbed quietly, alone in the stark silence of the cellar.
Half an hour later he was recovering in the living room, drinking brandy with Adam and Nate. Adam, in his usual crisp, efficient way, was brief but decisive. "You know, Pete, I don't always see eye to eye with Randy but he has one rule that we all follow. When there's trouble and a guy fucks up he gets punished, makes amends - and that's an end of it - no hard feelings.
"Your first day here with Nate and me has been pretty intense, though I for one found a lot of it real hot. It's the kind of action I love, especially with an alpha stud like you. And I have a suspicion that you discovered hidden depths about yourself too. We should get you some a leather outfit and have you join Zack and me on a bike run. But I hope you're gonna stay with us as planned, mate. Nate and me are counting on it."
He held out his hand and, with only minor hesitation, Pete shook it warmly. But there was still a distant look in Pete's eyes and Adam said. "Yeah, I know ... Brandon's waiting for you up at his place and you gotta go sort things out with him. Go easy on the boy, mate."
Pete stood up. "Thanks for still wanting me here, Adam. It'll be great staying with you and Nate. He hugged Nate who said quietly, "Be kind to Brandon, sir. He's my friend."
Pete left the house and as he drove up the hill he knew that he was about to do the hardest thing he had ever faced. When he knocked on Brandon's door it flew open and there was Brandon, smiling brightly in his wheelchair, reaching up with open arms. Pete leaned down to hug him but it was a stiff, reticent hug and Brandon instantly sensed that something was wrong. Anxiously he led Pete inside, where Mario greeted him.
Pete sat on the couch and pulled Brandon's wheelchair round to face him. He took a deep breath and said, "Brandon, I've got something to tell you." Mario rose to leave them alone but Pete said, "No, Mario, stay. I want you hear this too."
Pete gazed into Brandon's wide eyes blinking nervously behind his black-rimmed glasses. "Today, Brandon, I did something real bad - I tried to force myself on Nate and would have fucked him, but he pushed me off and Adam showed up just in time. Of course I got the punishment I deserved from Adam, but that's not the point. See, it was my sexual addiction rearing up - and it'll happen again." Brandon felt a stab of panic.
"Kiddo, I love you - but I can't be the man for you. I'm not reliable, I'm damaged goods and I know I'd end up hurting you. You're a terrific young man and we can still be friends, but I can't be a master to you or anyone else. See, my sexual hang-ups are a kind of sickness."
Brandon's heart missed a beat ... and he started to plead. "But, sir, when people join together it's like ... in sickness and in health, isn't it? That's what they say. Sir, I love you and I don't care how many guys you fuck as long as we can be together. I'll be a good boy for you, sir, I promise. You can fuck me as often as you like if it helps with your sexual thing." His voice was rising in panic. "You can fuck me now, sir, right here. Look, I'll get on the ground and take off my shorts. Please, sir ...."
Pete choked back tears as he put a restraining arm on the boy's. "God knows I don't wanna hurt you kid, but it has to be like this. One day you'll see that I'm right...." He choked up and tears came to his eyes. "I can't say anything else right now, kid, 'cos we'll just go round and round and get nowhere. I'll drop in and see you after work tomorrow, make sure you're OK."
Pete stood up, feeling like a coward, and said, "Mario, take care of him .... please ...." Tears were running down his cheeks as he left and the door closed behind him.
Brandon was in a state of shock and thought he would throw up. He turned desperately to Mario who ran forward, knelt down and threw his arms tightly round his friend. "What am I gonna do, Mario? I love him ... I thought he was gonna ask me to be his boy. I ..." and he broke down sobbing on Mario's shoulder.
Mario held him tight and said softly in his ear, "Hey, hey, amico, maybe it's not the end of the world. I have a feeling things can still work out."
Brandon pulled back and stared at him, grabbing desperately at this ray of hope. "You promise?"
Mario smiled. "I cannot make promises about things I cannot control, amico, but I have seen you together, seen how you love each other." He gently pulled off Brandon's glasses, kissed him softly on the eyes and licked the tears from his cheeks. "I cannot believe this is the end. I have a - how you say? - a hunch that there's a story still to play out. And in the meantime you have me."
"Will you stay with me tonight, Mario?"
"Of course I will mi amico. I will hold you and we will sleep - and tomorrow will be a new day."
The house had an intuition all of its own and throughout the next day there was a tension in the air shared by all, almost by osmosis as nobody else knew what had happened.
In the early evening Bob had just come home from work and was relaxing in the master suite, still in his work suit and tie. The door burst open and Randy stood there in his usual greasy cargo pants, work boots and dirt-streaked tank top. His breath was heaving like a stallion in heat - which was close to the truth - and Bob grinned, "Tough day?"
"A mother fucker," the construction boss growled, ripping open his pants. "And you're gonna get your ass fucked." Bob had seen Randy in this mood many times before, a mood that always turned him on, and he unzipped his pants.
Just then there was a tentative knock on the door and Randy said, "Shit." The door opened and Jamie poked his head in. "Oh, sorry, sirs, I didn't know," he apologized. "I'll come back."
"No come in," said Bob zipping his pants back up. "Is there a problem?"
"Well, sir, I'm not really sure. See, it's Brandon."
Randy's head jerked up, his protective instincts kicking in, and he said sharply, "Brandon? What's up - did anyone hurt him?"
"It's just that he's been real quiet all day, hardly said a word. And a couple of times I caught him crying, though he denied it, of course. You know how he is. He's still in the office and ..."
Randy buttoned his pants and strode out of the room, followed by Bob and Jamie. He burst into the office where Brandon had his head bowed over his computer. The boy jolted as he felt an arm on his shoulder. He looked up and stared into Randy's face, tears running down his cheeks.
"You're crying, kid," Randy said.
"No I'm not, sir," Brandon sniffled.
"Don't bullshit me, kid. If I say you're crying, you're crying." He picked up a nearby cloth and gently wiped Brandon's eyes and cheeks. Standing behind him Bob smiled, wondering how many times in the past he had done this same thing for his younger brothers. Randy held the cloth over the boy's nose and said, "Blow". Brandon blew his nose hard and composed himself, taking off his glasses to wipe them.
Randy sat facing him as Brandon put his glasses back on and blinked. "Now listen to me, kiddo," Randy said gently. "How often have I told you that if you're in trouble you come straight to me? Well you're in trouble and I'm here. So what's the problem? Tell me all of it."
Comforted by Randy's strong but gentle voice Brandon told him everything about Pete's visit to him, what he had done to Nate and why he felt he couldn't trust himself with a boy. "So he's gone, sir. I thought I was gonna be his boy, sir, though I know I shouldn't have expected to become the boy of a hot man like him - you know, like, me in a wheelchair and all. You think that's what he couldn't handle, me not being able to walk? I dunno. He blamed it all on what he said was his sickness, being addicted to sex and all."
"Fuck," Randy growled, "every damn man and boy in this house is addicted to sex and it hasn't hurt us none. Listen, kid, you sure you're in love with the Ranger?"
"Absolutely, sir, and I know he loves me. He told me so."
"Right." Randy stood up. "Stay right here. Jamie, take care of him." He turned on his heel and left the office. He stomped across the lawn and Bob kept up with him panting, "This is crazy. Those two belong to each other I could swear it."
Randy stopped and faced him. "You sure about that?" Bob nodded vigorously. "Right, go back to the kid. I'll take care of this myself. Alone now Randy pulled out his phone and punched a number. "Steve? Where are you, home? Good, you got one more patient today."
He explained what he wanted.
"Randy," Steve protested, "I just got home from work. Besides, you say the patient doesn't even know about this yet? Man, you can't go all caveman and just drag a patient in to see me. He has to be the one to reach out to me himself, you know the rules. Tell him to call my office for an appointment."
"Goddammit, man, this is your brother," Randy yelled. "Don't fucking-well quote no fucking rules to me, or do I have to fucking come up there and sort you out?"
In addition to the anger in his brother's voice Steve could hear the passion and urgency. Steve's rule of thumb was the more 'fuckings' there were in one of Randy's sentences, the more determined he was. He sighed, "OK, bro, I'll bend the rules just this once. I'll see him in half an hour, before Lloyd and I have dinner."
Randy shut off the phone, went through the adjoining gate to Adam's house and walked right into the house. Adam leapt to his feet but his protest was cut off by, "Where the fuck is he? Where's the Ranger?"
"That's his room there but you can't just barge in here and...." Randy completely ignored him, went through the door he indicated and slammed it behind him. Pete, just home from work, still in his Ranger's uniform was slumped in a chair staring at the floor. He leapt to his feet and confronted the ferocious gypsy but didn't get a chance to speak.
"I told you, man," Randy barked, jabbing his finger at Pete, "I told you to take care of that kid and what do I find? He's slumped in the office crying his eyes out all because of you. What, you chickened out because the boy's in a wheelchair and you couldn't handle it?"
"That's not fair, Randy.... you don't..."
"No, I tell you what's not fair, asshole - what's so fucking not fair it stinks. That's leading that sweet kid on like that, then smashing his dreams because you're what ..."- he spat the words out - "sexually compulsive? Well deal with it, shithead, 'coz you know what? We're all fucking sexually compulsive here and life's fucking great." He sneered. "You either check yourself into the nut house for 'treatment' like some fucking movie star or you deal with it."
"It's not that I don't love the boy, I do, but..."
"No, you don't get it man. There are no 'buts'. Bob said the two of you belong together and that's good enough for me. Now get your ass out to my truck and wait for me."
"Man, you can't come charging in here and ...."
Randy's eyes blazed. "I said, get - the - fuck - out of here ... or do I have to make you?" He grabbed Pete's arm, twisted it painfully behind his back and frog marched him out of the house, to the astonished gazes of Adam and Nate. Out at the truck he yanked open the door and practically threw the Ranger in. "Make one move, asshole, and I'll shove my fist up your ass."
He went back to the office and grabbed Brandon's wheelchair. "Come on, kid, we're going for a ride." He glared at Bob and Jamie. "You two stay here. I'm in charge now." Bob shrugged and murmured, "So what else is new?"
At the truck Pete hadn't moved. Having been beaten down yesterday by Adam, and worse still, by his own guilt, he had no stamina to resist the raging gypsy. Randy lifted Brandon into the truck and threw the folded wheelchair in the back seat. He got behind the wheel, his jaw clenched, breath heaving. Sitting between Randy and Pete Brandon stared straight ahead, fearful but with a glimmer of hope now that Randy was in charge. They drove in silence.
Bob had phoned Steve and set out the whole situation for him. Steve then spoke at some length with Lloyd detailing his plan. That was strictly unethical, but Steve was not big on ethics. When the truck arrived he and Lloyd went out to meet it. Brandon wheeled himself inside followed by Pete and Randy, but inside the door Steve blocked Randy's way. Speaking carefully Steve said, "Randy, this is a session with my patients Pete and Brandon. Your presence would be unethical. Lloyd why don't you fix a drink for Randy out by the pool?"
Randy's impulse was to protest, but he grudgingly agreed. Before he went he said plaintively to Steve. "Take care of the boy, bro. Make it come right for him. He's real special to me."
"No kidding," Steve chuckled. "Huh, I don't have to be a shrink to work that one out." He touched Randy's arm and said more seriously, "Don't worry, bro, I know what he means to you. I'll do my best."
And so the session began. Pete sat in an armchair a few feet away from Brandon's wheelchair, both facing Steve. To save time Steve outlined the situation as it had been explained to him by Bob. "Is that how you see it, Pete?"
"Yeah that's pretty much it. Man, I hate to do this but you see that I'm such a giant fuck up I would be a crappy master for Brandon or any other boy."
"Is there another boy, Pete?'
"Of course not," Pete bristled. "I love Brandon - no one else. I've never really loved anyone else. It's just that I can't....."
Steve cut him off by asking Brandon, "And how do you feel about all this, Brandon?"
Brandon adjusted his glasses and spoke nervously. "It's real simple, sir. It sounds kinda silly 'coz I've only known Pete a few days but I know I love him. And he says he loves me. I kinda thought he might ask me to be his boy and that would have been wonderful but .... well, I understand if he doesn't want that, whatever the reason. But I don't care what's happened, I could still be a good boy and ...." He choked back tears. "Sorry, sir, I try not to do that but ...."
"That's OK, Brandon," Steve smiled. "A lot of my patients shed a tear or two. But I think you're right, it is a simple situation for you. You're in love with a man and want to be with him. That's all I need to know from you. But I need to talk some more with Pete." He called out, "Hey, Lloyd."
Lloyd came in instantly as if he had been waiting for the call. "Take Brandon into another room and take care of him. I need to chat to Pete." Brandon looked confused but allowed himself to be wheeled out of Steve's office by Lloyd. Having been out by the pool with Randy Lloyd was wearing only swim trunks and his flawless gym muscles rippled as they left.
Pete felt a pang of unease as he watched Lloyd wheel Brandon away and he frowned, a gesture Steve noted. "OK, Pete, let me first reassure you that I understand your problem completely. Many of my patients are sexually compulsive and there is a whole range of treatments I can prescribe, including residential rehab. We'll need to have many more sessions, but in the meantime you're quite right. A man as unstable as you has no right being any boy's master so you did the right thing breaking up with him."
Pete winced, unhappy with Steve's professional assessment even though it agreed with his own. But Steve reassured him. "I wouldn't worry too much about Brandon - he's a bright young kid, good looking and gives a great blow-job, I hear." Pete winced again and shuffled uneasily in his chair as Steve continued.
"He'll find another master in no time. As a matter of fact - I don't want to jump the gun here - Lloyd has been on at me for some time that we should have a boy here, and Brandon would certainly fill the bill." He paused to let the idea sink in, noticing Pete tense and clench his fists.
"He would take care of both of us, doing the cooking and taking care of us sexually. After all, we're known as a pretty hot couple, both good looking, great bodies, and any kid would jump at the chance. It's a great house, we've lots of money and he'd be well taken care of. Could even give up his job down at the house if he wanted to."
"Nah, I dunno," said Pete. "I don't think we should decide anything too soon."
"Well," Steve smiled, "it's kind of out of your hands now, Pete, and you're probably relieved. See, I think Brandon is feeling rejected and betrayed right now, so it would be good for his self-esteem to be taken in by someone else right away, made to feel he belongs somewhere else."
As he spoke Steve could sense Pete's mood growing darker, his concern getting deeper. Steve leaned forward with a smile and lowered his voice confidentially. "As a matter of fact, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I believe Lloyd is getting to know Brandon right now - very well, if you know what I mean." He grinned. "Taking him for a test run, you might say. You saw how great Lloyd looks in those swim trunks, any boy would give him what he wants. Lloyd's a terrific fuck as I know only too well. Brandon's probably turning a new page in his life even as we speak."
"No!" Pete leapt to his feet. "Not Lloyd, not anyone. The boy's mine ... I love him and he's gonna live with me! He's my boy, you get that?" He ran from the room and stopped, disoriented, until he heard sounds coming from the bedroom. He burst in and stared in horror at the bed. Lloyd was naked, his cock hard, with Brandon beside him. Lloyd had pulled Brandon's cock out of his shorts and was stroking it, leaning forward and kissing him on the eyes and lips.
Pete launched himself across the room, grabbed Lloyd's shoulder and yanked him off the bed and onto his feet. Get out," he roared. "That's my boy there and no one gets to fuck him but me. So get the fuck outa here!"
Lloyd picked up his swim trunks, left the room and went into Steve's office. He stood there pouting, butt naked, holding his shorts. "I just got thrown out of my own bedroom," he said sullenly.
Steve roared with laughter. "Good, it worked then. Well done, buddy, you did great. You, er, you didn't....?"
"'Course I didn't. What do you think this is?" He slapped his roaring hard-on. "Gotta find some other ass to fuck now."
"As soon as they've all gone buddy," Steve smiled sweetly. "I promise."
In the bedroom Brandon stared nervously up at the uniformed Ranger. "Sir," he blurted out, "he didn't do anything to me. I swear I didn't want it ... I didn't want him ... I wanted you, sir."
"It's OK, Brandon, I know that. Lloyd was just playing his part in Steve's 'therapy'. Weird kind of therapy but it worked. It made me realize how much I wanted you - and I couldn't stand the idea of you belonging to someone else. It made me see what a complete asshole I've been. I hurt the boy I love, I made you unhappy and I'll never forgive myself for that. So, after putting you through all that, I'm sure you wouldn't want to ...."
"Yes I would, sir!" Brandon blinked hard behind his glasses.
"You would? After all that you still want to become my boy, Brandon?"
"Yes please, sir," Brandon said, "more than anything in the world. I don't care about all the stuff that's happened. And as for that sex addiction thing ... we can work that out ... and if it helps you can fuck me as often as you want, sir. I mean, it's simple .... I'm in love with you sir."
Pete smiled down at him. "Would you like me to fuck you now, boy?"
"Yes please, sir." Brandon had taken off his gasses and was already pulling off his T-shirt and shorts. He watched the Ranger strip frantically, kicking off his boots, ripping off his shirt and pants until he towered over his boy buck naked. His cock was hard as steel. He spat on it, stroked it, then fell forward onto the trembling boy and pulled his legs over his shoulders. "This is where I belong, kiddo, where we both belong."
He eased his cock into the Brandon's ass, and the ecstatic boy watched his master's muscular body rise and fall above him. He ran his hands over the mounds of Pete's hairy chest while he felt the exquisite sensation of the Ranger's rod sliding in and out of his ass. They sighed with relief that the turmoil was behind them and a new chapter was opening in both their lives.
That was all that needed to be said. They gazed into each other's eyes for a long, long time as they made love - the consummation of their union as man and boy. Finally Pete leaned forward, clamped his hands on Brandon's wrists and pinned them to the bed. "Now you're my captive boy - and I'm your master." He bent down, pressed his lips on Brandon's in a grinding kiss that drove them to the brink of orgasm. Pete raised his head and smiled. "And now your master is gonna shoot his juice inside his boy's ass. You ready?"
"Yes please, sir. You're so beautiful, sir, I ... I ... aaah." He stared wild-eyed at his new master and his voice rang with pure joy as his cock spurted cum up onto the Ranger's hairy chest. "I love you, boy," Pete sighed, pouring warm semen deep inside his boy's ass.
It was done. After such a rocky start, where their union almost foundered on the Ranger's insecurity in this new, unfamiliar world, they had turned their back on the chilly past and taken their first steps into a future of safety and warmth.
When their cocks had drained and their heartbeats subsided, Pete fell forward onto his boy and whispered in his ear, "This is for keeps, kiddo. I'm always gonna love you and take care of you. You gonna be a good boy for me?"
"The best in the whole world, sir."
After effusive goodbyes and thanks to Steve and Lloyd, Pete and Brandon were being driven home by Randy. Pete said, "I don't know how I can ever thank you, Randy. You're incredible. You sure have a way of taking charge and cutting through the crap."
"Ah," said Randy dismissively. "It's just something I do. Gotta keep the tribe in shape, get rid of the bullshit."
He dropped them off at Brandon's apartment where they would obviously spend the rest of the night. Randy sighed as he pulled up at his own gate and walked toward the master suite through a crowd of boys setting up dinner and chattering excitedly.
Bob stood up anxiously as Randy came into the bedroom. "Everything turn out alright?"
"'Course it did. Me and my brother took care of it. It was all bullshit." Randy grinned. "Young Brandon's over the moon and that's the main thing. By the way, what the hell's going on with the boys down there? They're buzzing like a hive of bees on steroids."
"Oh, young Eddie's stirring things up and you know how excitable he can be. Seems Hassan and Zack are taking out the Harleys tomorrow and going on a bike run, leaving Eddie and Darius to do some work on Hassan's house. You know how the kid worships Darius, and they haven't been alone together for months. And when the Marine and the leather-jock get back after sitting astride those bikes for so long they'll be horny as hell. No knowing what'll happen."
"So like I said," Randy grinned, "all fucking bullshit. But they better get dinner on the table fast 'coz I'm fucking starved. Anyway, you and me, we got more important matters to take care of. When I'm hungry I'm horny. Let's see here, where were we when we were interrupted?"
He pushed Bob onto his back on the bed, towered over him and ripped open his greasy pants.
TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" - Chapter 246