In the previous chapter: 

It was what Darius called their ‘biker gang’ – leather-master Zack and Ranger Pete leading their boys, Darius and Brandon on a bike run into the desert. Three of them rode Harleys and Brandon was on his three-wheeler specially modified to take his wheelchair, allowing him to ride proudly just like the others.

It had only been a few hours since they roared into the desert and already it had been an action-packed start to their weekend. On the way there rookie Brandon had been ‘initiated’ into the ‘gang’ by his master Pete when they pulled off the highway and Pete had fucked his boy stretched out on his bike.

Then they had visited an old stomping ground of Zack’s, a desert leather bar where Brandon had demonstrated that he was as good as any leatherboy by putting on a wild sex show in the back room with Darius, under the enthusiastic gaze of the bar patrons and the owner Mike..

And now they were installed in the small desert hideaway house that had been lent to them by their buddy Hassan, the hot Marine Captain. But soon after they got to the house Brandon and Darius had taken off to Twentynine Palms, a small desert town nearby.

The bar owner Mike had mentioned his nephew Brian, a reclusive kid who lived alone in a small trailer park out there, having given in to his handicap of being in a wheelchair. That sparked a pang of sympathy in Brandon who had led a similarly lonely existence until the tribe discovered him and “brought me back to life” as he accurately described it. Brandon had immediately offered to go see Brian in his dusty trailer, along with Darius.

Which left Zack and Pete alone together to nurse their building lust for each other as they lay side by side in the sun on the back porch with their eyes closed against the sun. Their thoughts were running on similarly sexual lines but no words were exchanged for some time until Zack finally broke the silence.

“Remember when we first met, Pete, in that forest clearing by the lake? You were a tough, arrogant Ranger and Randy, me and our boys tied you up and worked you over. You looked so fucking hot I said I’d like to go mano-a-mano with you sometime, and if you beat me you’d take revenge by tying me up and thrashing me. I told you to imagine the black leather-master, bound and spread-eagled at your mercy.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Pete said, opening his eyes and looking at Zack.”

“See, I have a theory,” Zack said, “that many a tough, macho top-man sometimes feels a masochistic urge deep down inside him to get the same treatment he dishes out to others, an urge to feel what other guys feel when he works them over. It’s partly narcissism, getting off looking at himself in a mirror, watching his body writhe in bondage, his face grimacing in pain.”

Pete guessed that this was one of those times, and that same urge was gripping Zack right now. There was another long silence as they let all this sink in, though there was little doubt in either of their minds where this was heading. So it came as no surprise to Pete when Zack said, “You wanna check out Hassan’s little dungeon downstairs?”


The basement was a dark black room lit by red spotlights in the ceiling, with evidence all around of hardcore sex scenes staged by Hassan in the past – bars, chains, a jumble of sex paraphernalia and mirrors on all four walls. And most of all there was the resonance of all the hard-core sex that still hung in the air, at once erotic and sinister.

Seeing a gleam in the leatherman’s eyes he had not seen before, Pete said, “You really want it man, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Zack groaned. “When I watched you earlier in the scrubland fuck your boy’s ass you looked so fucking hot I knew what I wanted. Yeah, man, I want it real bad.” So Pete had lost no time in indulging Zack in his masochistic urges.

A few minutes later he stood back and surveyed the pornographic fantasy of the bound black leather-master, stripped to the waist in leather pants and heavy boots. His magnificent, chiseled physique gleamed under the lights as if carved in ebony, his hands tied behind his back, a collar round his neck. He stared defiantly at the handsome Ranger, shirtless in black jeans, his muscular torso catching the spotlights as he paced around his captive.

After tormenting his prisoner Pete had forced Zack to his knees and subjected him to a ferocious face-fuck that soon had the leatherman pleading hoarsely, “Enough, man, I can’t take any more. Please, man, cum in my mouth … let me drink your juice. Aaagh.” He was stifled by the gag of the pole ramming back in his mouth.

“Man, I love to hear a macho bodybuilder like you beg for mercy,” Pete said. “OK, stud, let me see how a leather master on his knees submits to another man by drinking his cum.” And he blasted a hot load of semen deep in his throat, then pulled out and slammed another load full in the gasping black face. And as cum splashed down on him the alpha muscle-stud suffered the extra humiliation of blasting a load of jizz in his leather pants.

The beaten leatherman was coughing and sobbing on his knees, tears running down his cheeks, sperm pouring from his mouth and over his sagging jaw. His shaved head and tortured face were smothered in semen, and his crotch was wet with his own cum. It was total degradation, a once proud alpha male defeated and sobbing in abject humiliation. It was one of the hottest sights Pete had ever seen … and Zack too as he stared at himself in the mirror.

“Damn,” Pete said, “that is fucking epic, a broken muscle-god on his knees drenched in cum. Shit, I’m gonna enjoy this … ‘cos you know it’s only the beginning, man. I still gotta see the naked black slave impaled on the master’s cock, howling in submission as his own cock blasts a load of cum on the mirror. It’s what you want, right?”

Zack raised his rugged cum-soaked face and groaned, “Man, I want it so bad.”

********  Chapter 314  ********

The Ranger was quick to bring that new homoerotic image to life, and met no resistance from the humbled black bodybuilder. When Pete stood back and admired the view he was reminded of a book of pornographic drawings his boy Brandon had once shown him. It included scenes from a slave market with muscular, mostly black, mostly naked slaves in various stages of bondage, waiting to be auctioned off to authoritarian masters.

Brandon had pointed out his favorite drawing … and Pete was looking at it now … in the flesh. In the picture a muscular, defiant black slave was standing spread-eagled between two heavy posts. Buck naked, his arms were stretched up and out, his wrists tied to the top of the posts. His muscled legs were wide astride, his ankles similarly tied at the bottom. His magnificent ebony physique, squared jawed features and shaved head gleamed under the lights.

And now that erotic fantasy had come to life … and it moved. The prisoner stared straight ahead at his own reflection in the mirror, his straining muscles rippling as he pulled at his restraints. Zack had never seen himself quite like this and the homoerotic image fed his hunger to be dominated, and also his vanity, seeing himself stretched and bound at the mercy of the powerful Ranger.

Pete stood behind him and stared at the mirror image. “Fucking beautiful,” he murmured in Zack’s ear. “Look at that … look at that muscle-stud … captured, forced to suck dick, then stripped naked and tied up on display, a slave at auction. Look at him. He turns you on, right?”

Pete withdrew, sat in a chair some distance away and stroked the bulge in his pants while staring at the magnificent Zack, straining in bondage, pulling at his restraints as his huge dick swung between his wide-apart legs. He saw the gleam of lust in Zack’s eyes, saw them narrow and focus hard on his own reflection

“Holy shit,” Pete murmured in awe as he watched Zack’s cock stiffen and rise slowly until it stood out rigid from his tangled black pubic hair. It was obvious that Zack was massively aroused by the black muscle-god spread-eagled naked before him in the mirror, his iron-hard cock starting to ooze pre-cum.

He was groaning to the man in the mirror… “Man, I wanna see that big cock bust its load. Fucking slave, tied up, humiliated, they’re gonna make you shoot your jizz.”

Pete realized what he had to do. He stood up and picked up off the floor a whip with a dozen long strands of rawhide – a cat o’ nine tails. He knew that this would hurt but not with the agonizing pain of a bullwhip. He stood before Zack and traced the handle of the whip down the sculpted features, down the neck, and in the cleft between his rock-hard pecs.

He teased Zack’s nipples, then flicked the whip across them lightly as Zack inhaled sharply in anticipation of what came next. Pete whipped harder until the rawhide strands were lashing the slabs of the leatherman’s gleaming chest. Zack stared at the mirror spellbound by the sight of the bound black slave writhing under the lash. He groaned, “Yeah, fuck yeah, whip that beautiful body … aaah”

Pete saw the hug black cock shudder and moved quickly behind him. Using all his strength now he lashed the muscles of the broad back, heaving and struggling to lessen the pain of the blows. Both men watched the homoerotic sight in the mirror, saw the rugged face grimace in pain, saw the cock shudder, dripping pre-cum.

Pete’s own body gleamed with sweat and his muscles flexed as he lashed the broad back, leaving it striped with the marks of the whip. “Look at that beautiful man getting thrashed. You know he can’t take any more. He’s gotta give up. He knows what he has to do. Do it, stud.”

“Fuck you, man … aaagh… whip me … harder, harder … fuck … yeah … aaagh!” They both gazed at the mirror in awe as the huge black cock blasted a jet of semen that splashed on the glass and ran down it. Pete dropped the whip and growled in Zack’s ear, “You know what comes next, big guy, when a master decides to buy a slave. To take full possession of his prize he does this …”

He reached round Zack, wiped the last drops of cum oozing from his cock and used it to lube his own cock. Then he grabbed the captive’s hips … and plunged his long pole deep inside his black ass. “Aaaagh!” Zack’s roar filled the room and his roped body thrashed helplessly in a futile attempt to pull off the Ranger’s cock. But Pete held him in place and proceeded to give him one of the most savage fucks he had ever delivered.

Zack was in a euphoria of pain, his masochistic impulses fulfilled by the hard-driving Ranger who goaded him verbally. “He’s finished, man. That defiant leather-master has been stripped naked, spread-eagled, face-fucked, whipped and sold as a slave. Impaled on his new master’s huge dick his ass is getting pounded into submission. The powerful black bodybuilder is finished, broken. Let me hear him submit.”

Pete drove his rod in deep and “Aaaagh!” Zack’s agonized face contorted in pain. “OK, I’m done. I can’t take any more. I give up … I submit. Please, sir, cum in my ass. I give up … I submit ….”

The pornographic sight of a rugged leather-master broken and humiliated, surrendering as another man’s slave and begging for release, was overwhelming for Pete who, with one last massive thrust, emptied his cock into the man’s shattered ass.

It was the ultimate fantasy for Zack, the apex of his urge to be dominated, abused and degraded. He had never looked more erotic to himself, never felt so alive. He gazed at the spectacular image in the mirror of the shuddering black body speared by his master’s shaft … and his cock erupted in one final blast of semen splashing on the mirror.

He was enthralled by the image of the exhausted muscle-god hanging in bondage, his battered body striped with whip marks, his head hanging down in abject humiliation and defeat. Pete pulled his long dick out of his ass and quickly unbuckled his restraints. Zack fell to his knees and crawled across the floor to the mirror.

He stared at his own gorgeous face, tears and sweat streaming down it, and groaned, “Fucking beautiful man. So fucking hot.” He leaned forward and licked his own semen running down the glass, then pressed his cheek against the slick surface. And finally he and the man in the mirror kissed, grinding their lips together, lubricated by the bitter-sweet juice that both of them had expelled in a euphoria of masochistic release.


Pete knelt beside Zack, put his arm round him and together they lay on the floor. Pete grinned, “Epic, man. Un-fucking-believable. You OK?”

“Never better,” Zack smiled. “God I needed that and I knew you were the guy to give it to me. The urge comes on me for some role-reversal action like that occasionally but I have to find the right guy. Randy’s done it but most guys don’t know that streak is in me.”

“Shit, I wish we had it on video,” said Pete. “Me and my boy would watch it together and jerk each other off. Live porn like that beats anything he’s got in his video collection.”

“Er, you do have it on video, sir.” The two men jerked up on their elbows at the sudden voice and Darius stepped out of the shadows, holding his camera.

“What the fuck …?” Zack growled menacingly.

“Sir, please don’t be angry. I went with Brandon but him and that Brian kid in the trailer needed time together so I left them alone and came back here. I had seen that look in your eye, sir, before I left and guessed you were down here. You know how I specialize in stealth filming without anyone knowing and you two guys were so engrossed in each other and the mirror that you didn’t see me in the shadows.” He grinned, “It’s known in the trade as guerilla filming, sir.”

“Guerilla filming?” Zack and Pete looked at each other … and burst out laughing.

“I know I was out of line and I can delete it if you like, sir.”

“Don’t you dare,” Pete said, “I want my boy to see that. Besides it’ll do wonders for Zack in the tribe – one of the hottest things anyone’s seen. Zack’s gonna be a star, more macho than ever. OK with you Zack?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Zack grinned, his vanity kicking in.

Pete asked, “You say Brandon and this Brian are getting on OK?”

“I’ll say! When I left them Brandon was working his magic like you said, sir. They guy’s eating out of his hand.”


That was true now, though it had been a different story when Darius and Brandon first roared up to the trailer park on their bikes. The park was a maze of dusty roads and sun-bleached trailers, silent except for the monotonous screech of cicadas. With no people in sight it looked like a crumbling ghost town, but as they rode around aimlessly they heard a digging sound.

They rounded a corner and saw a young man lying on the ground on his side, propped up on one elbow and jabbing with a trowel at a patch of earth beside his trailer. Beside him was a wheelchair. It had to be Brian.

But before they could say a word he looked up, shaded his eyes against the sun and said, “Who the fuck are you? This is private … get the hell out.”

Darius took charge. He got off his bike, rested it on its stand and towered over the boy, legs wide apart, shirtless in leather pants and boots.

“I assume your name’s Brian. Well, Brian, I’m Darius and this here is my good buddy Brandon who has come out here to the back of beyond specially to see you at the request of your uncle. Now we don’t expect you to break out the flags at that news or even offer us a drink, but maybe you could come up with a decent hello. Think you could you manage that for me?”

The boy was totally intimidated staring up at the muscular black leatherboy looming over him, his gruff voice a contrast to his gleaming smile. “Uh, sorry, sir,” he stammered. “It’s just … I wasn’t expecting anyone … I never get visitors here.”

“Hey, no sweat, dude,” Brandon chimed in cheerfully. ‘I used to be exactly the same – suspicious of callers. But I just wanted to talk to you.”

“What about? You don’t even know me, and you’re obviously big city guys so we wouldn’t have anything in common.”

“Oh no?” Brandon grinned and Brian’s eyes opened wide as Brandon lowered the ramp behind him and rolled his chair backwards off his trike onto the ground. “See? More in common than you think.”

He wheeled himself over to the trailer’s front door. “Did your uncle Mike build this ramp for you up to the door? A guy called Randy did the same for me, all over the place. He’s a big construction worker, built like a brick shithouse and … well, never mind about that. You gonna invite me inside?”

Brian was still reeling from the sudden appearance of these guys, but he took a liking to the guy in the wheelchair who was less intimidating than the big black guy, and said, “Sure, if you want. I got some beer in the fridge.”

“Now you’re talking my language,” Brandon grinned, watching closely as Brian pulled himself off the ground and, rather clumsily, into his wheelchair. He wheeled himself up the ramp and Brandon said to Darius, “You coming, dude?”

But Darius, always aware of nuances in people, was already feeling that three was a crowd, and certainly would be in that small trailer. And he sensed that Brandon was already working his considerable charm on this kid and he should leave them to it. “Nah,” he said, “you guys probably have a lot to talk about and I’d get in your way – kinda ‘de tropp’ as they say. Besides, I wanna check out what Zack and Pete are up to.”

Darius strode over to the trailer and came face to face with Brian sitting at the top of the ramp. “Now you take good care of my buddy here, OK kid? And I’ve a feeling I’ll be seeing you again.” He put his hand behind the boy’s head pulled it toward him and pressed his full lips against Brian’s mouth in a long, hard, tongue-searching kiss. When he pulled away he rewarded the boy with another dazzling smile, threw his leg over the Harley, kick-started it and roared away.

“Who was that guy?” Brian said in a daze.

“Like I said, my pal Darius. Now how about that beer, dude?”

When they got inside Brandon looked around as Brian went to the fridge. The trailer was immaculately clean and neat, with pride of place to the TV set in front of a large recliner, and beside it a bookcase full of porn videos.

Brian himself, about nineteen, same age as Brandon, was of average height and, like Brandon, his upper body was well developed from wheeling his chair for so many years. He had long, tousled, light brown hair that fell over his freckled face, a boyishly handsome young face were it not for the almost permanent frown of muted unease and resentment. He was wearing cargo shorts, T-shirt and sneakers, which Brandon guessed he wore every day of his life.

He gave a beer to Brandon who immediately examined his extensive porn collection. “You’ve got even more than I have. Tons of that stud Dixon, I see … he’s my all-time favorite.”

“Mine too!” Brian’s face broke into a gleaming smile that transformed his features from pinched surliness to wide open joy. It was now not only a handsome face but one you wanted to kiss, Brandon thought.

The ice had been broken and Brian was on a roll. “But you know what, I got a new favorite. He’s not a porn star but he’s hotter than any of them. Here, I downloaded a ton of pictures of him off the Internet, stuff he did as a model and now his latest project.” He opened his laptop and after a few clicks beamed at the screen, then turned it to Brandon. “See? Don’t you think he’s the hottest guy you’ve ever seen? I jerk off to him almost every day.”

Brandon’s jaw dropped. He was looking at a picture of his friend Grady, resplendent in his Tarzan loincloth. “He’s gonna be the new Tarzan,” Brian gushed, “in a big blockbuster film. Dude, I can’t wait for that to come out. I never go to the movies but I’m sure going to the first day of that one. They let guys in wheelchairs into movie theaters don’t they?”

As he looked at the boy’s eager face Brandon choked up, with tears in his eyes. This lonely kid, isolated in a desert trailer park, his porn collection his only companion, jerking off every day to pictures of a guy he worshipped, a big upcoming movie star … who also happened to be Brandon’s close friend. And the kid was wondering if they’ll let him into the cinema!

“‘Course,” Brian went on, “most of those guys are kinda arrogant, stuck up ya know, in love with themselves. And he is so totally gorgeous he’s probably real narcissistic. But you know what? Look at that smile of his. He looks like he’d be a real nice guy, not conceited at all. Don’t you think he looks kinda … you know, more friendly … the kinda guy who likes to have fun?”

“I think you could be right,” Brandon smiled, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.

But still Brian rattled on. “I’ve searched all through the web-sites but they don’t say anything much about his private life, except he lives in the Hollywood Hills. Most of those movie stars live in the hills, don’t they? I read about that once – big houses, big gates, lots of security. They don’t mention a girlfriend either. But a hunk like that, I bet he’s got a girlfriend, don’t you think?”

“Well, maybe not exactly,” Brandon said carefully. Then, on the spur of the moment, Brandon made up his mind. “Look, dude, I know we hardly know each other but … I want you to come visit me in L.A.”

Brian recoiled. “L.A.? Oh I couldn’t do that, Brandon. I went there once when I was little but it scares me. I never leave the desert, see. I’m safe here. Besides, someone would have to drive me.”

“No they wouldn’t,” Brandon said, determined to make Brian take the first step to independence. “You could come by train – Amtrak. The Sunset Limited comes through Palm Springs three days a week, my friend Nate told me that – he’s a great train buff.”

Brian started to object but Brandon cut him off. “And don’t worry about the wheelchair. The trains are all wheelchair accessible. Now, as I see it, your uncle Mike could drive you to Palm Springs station and I’ll meet you off the train at Union Station in L.A. Piece o’ cake. Yeah,” Brandon grinned, “easy as falling off a log. OK, bad example, but you know what I mean, dude. That’s settled then. You’re coming, kiddo – because I say you are.”


Like so many men before him Brian found it hard to resist Brandon’s charming ability to get his own way. They talked for some time after that, mostly about Brian as Brandon did not divulge much about his living situation or his friends. He remembered what Darius had said prior to the sex show they put on in the bar – “Better to show it than describe it.”

By the time Brandon left he had convinced Brian that a trip to L.A. would be a good thing – scary though, especially riding the train solo. When Brandon got back to the guys in Hassan’s house he was bursting with his news – but he didn’t get a chance to share it right away. Zack, Pete and Darius were lounging in the back garden and Brandon was puzzled to see stripes across Zack’s chest and back.

But that had to wait too as Darius grabbed Brandon’s chair and dragged it inside to the room he was to share with Zack. “You are absolutely not gonna believe this, dude. Best movie I ever made – you’ll cum bucketsful.”

Out in the garden the men grinned as they heard exclamations of disbelief and the obvious howls of orgasm as their boys watched the movie. Pete ginned. “Told you you’d be a star, buddy. We should take it down to Grady’s studio and see if they can use it.”

“Not on your life, asshole,” Zack chuckled. “You know the rule – what happens in the tribe stays in the tribe.”

That hard-and-fast rule came up again when Brandon finally got to sit down with them and pour out the details of his meeting with Brian. “Is it OK if he comes, sir?” he pleaded with Pete. “Please say yes … he needs it so bad.”

Once again Brandon proved too hard to refuse, and Pete was all in favor of helping the young guy. “We’ll have to run it by his uncle Mike, though,” Pete warned. “And there’s one other crucial thing – discretion. We have to make sure the kid knows how to keep his mouth shut about the things he sees in the tribe, especially with Grady. You know how sensitive that is and how Randy and Mark hover over the Grady House like hawks protecting his privacy.”

But everything turned out well and Mike was thrilled with the plan. “Don’t know how you swung that, Brandon,” he smiled. “The kid’s a recluse – I thought it would take dynamite to get him out of that damn trailer.

“Of course I’ll run him to the train station and I’ll vouch for his total discretion. He’d never spill the beans and, anyway, he has no one to spill them to. Like I said, he’s a hermit, has no friends … until you came along, kiddo. Pete, you’ve got yourself a great kid here, as well as a back-room porn star. If you ever you wanna sell him,” he kidded, “give me first refusal, OK?”

“Sorry, Mike,” Pete grinned, ruffling Brandon’s hair. “Not for sale at any price.”


It was a week and a half later that Brandon drove his truck down to Union Station around noon to meet the Sunset Limited which, by some miracle, was only half an hour late. That qualified as on time for this perennially late cross-country train.

Brandon sat impatiently on the platform as the train pulled to a stop and he anxiously scanned the passengers getting off. He had a moment of doubt, wondering if Brian had got cold feet at the last minute, but then he saw the conductor lowering a ramp from one of the doors and he raced over there. So his smiling face was there to welcome the boy wheeling down the ramp.

“Welcome to L.A., dude,” Brandon beamed. “How was the trip?”

“Amazing!” Brian’s eyes sparkled. “The train staff were great, real helpful. I think they liked me ‘cos they kept bringing me free food from the dining car. When we started coming into L.A., though, I panicked a bit as everything was so big and crowded and I was scared that you wouldn’t be here to meet me. You know how guys can be.”

“Not this guy, dude. I keep my promises. Now come with me out to the parking lot.”

“Who’s driving us to your place, Brandon? Is it that Darius guy?”

“Who’s driving us? Duh! I am of course.”

When they reached the truck Brian couldn’t believe it as Brandon opened the passenger door and told him to haul himself in. Then he folded Brian’s chair and stowed it behind his seat. He pulled himself in the driver’s side, stowed his own chair and expertly backed the truck out of the parking space.

Brian watched wide-eyed as Brandon deftly manipulated the hand controls like it was second nature … which it was. “I heard they make cars like this,” Brian said,” but I didn’t see how it could work.”

“Well now you do, buddy – the first of many surprises I have in store for you today. Brian sat the rest of the way in amazed silence, taking in the sights and sounds of the city, a bit scared as they swung onto the crowded Hollywood Freeway but reassured by Brandon’s cool confidence.

His next surprise came when they reached the Mt. Washington neighborhood and came to a stop at a bungalow at the top of the hill. Brandon deliberately didn’t help Brian, leaving him to unfold his wheelchair and lower himself into it – another small step to independence.

But as he wheeled himself round the truck Brian stopped dead. Emerging from the house was a man who looked like he came from one of his porn videos – a tall, handsome muscular guy in uniform pants and boots but no shirt. He had shaving cream on his face, carried a towel, and a shirt was slung over his shoulder. Pete had been getting ready for work.

He flashed a broad smile and said, “Hey, you must be Brian – even better looking than Brandon’s description. Welcome to the big city, kid.” He leaned down to hug him but got shaving cream on Brian’s cheek. “Sorry about that,” Pete grinned, and cleaned it off by wiping his hand over the boy’s face. Brian inhaled sharply and he almost creamed his shorts as he felt Pete’s touch and gazed at his muscular chest inches from his face.

“I’m Pete. I hope my boy’s been taking care of you, Brian. If not, just let me know and I’ll teach him some manners. Shoving my dick up his butt usually does the trick.” He ruffled Brandon’s hair. “Hey, kiddo, I gotta run … late for work. By the way, Danny called from the house up there to see if you’d arrived. Seems they’re holding up lunch waiting for you.”

Pete wiped the last of the cream from his square jaw, pulled on his shirt and tucked it into his pants. “Have fun you two. See you later, Brian.” He leapt into his Forest Ranger truck and, with one last gleaming smile, sped away.

Brian, his heart beating fast, stammered, “That guy is your …?” He couldn’t find the word.

“My master, yeah, I’m his boy. You could say he owns me. A lotta guys don’t like to use that word but I do. I’ll explain on the way up to the house, ‘cos we gotta go. Danny and the guys are waiting lunch for us. Let’s stow your gear inside and hit the road.


Not knowing what to expect next from his new friend Brian was surprised when they pulled up at a huge solid gate set between dense, high hedges that screened out any possible view of what was inside. He looked up and saw cameras pointed down at the drive in front of the gate.

Brandon reached out and pressed a code on a key pad. There was a pause, then a whirring sound as the gate slowly swung open. To Brian even the soft whirring noise sounded luxurious, but when they drove inside he was stunned by the expansive, immaculate grounds and the large house at the end of the driveway. Brandon drove round the back where they were met by two excited young guys who turned out to be Eddie and Ben.

“These are my best buddies in the whole world,” Brandon smiled. “That’s Eddie over there and the cute gypsy-looking guy is Ben. We call ourselves the three amigos.” Brandon deftly unfolded his chair, dropped it on the ground and pulled himself down into it. He was greeted by a clatter of voices talking over each other, the loudest being Eddie whose words rattled out like a machine gun.

Brian was a bit surprised that no one made a move to help him out of the truck, but this was the second time and it came easier. He was beginning to understand that no one around here made any special allowances for a kid in a wheelchair. Then he was mobbed by Brandon’s friends who shook his hand and hugged him, talking non-stop.

“Cool haircut, dude … love that wild look,” grinned Eddie.

“What d’ya mean haircut,” Ben laughed. “That hair hasn’t met scissors in months, am I right Brian?” But he was prevented from answering by the appearance of another boy, this one a bit more smartly dressed.

“And this,” Brandon announced, “is our friend Danny. He manages this house and he is also the best chef in L.A.” “In California,” said Eddie, and Ben laughed, “In America!” Danny greeted Brian warmly and Brandon said, “Sorry we’re late, dude, the train was late.”

“Of course it was,” Danny grinned, “but no harm done. The guys are in the gym just finishing their workout … and you know how they always end their workout.”

“By fucking!” the other three shouted in unison.

“Ciao, amici. You know we never use the F-word around here.” The laughing, accented voice came from a man walking out of the house, a gorgeous dark-haired Italian, muscular, barefoot in gym shorts, with an air of poise and authority enhanced by his good looks and charm.

“I am Mario and you, mi amico, must be Brian who Brandon has talked so much about. Benvenuto a casa nostra.” As he bent down and hugged him Brian got a faint whiff of the Italian cologne Mario had splashed on after his workout, his only concession to dressing for lunch. “We should take our places at table before lunch gets cold. Ah, here comes Grady now.”

Brian looked up at the man coming from the house … and froze. His throat constricted, he blushed deeply and his heart beat wildly in his chest. Grady was shirtless in brown cut-off shorts and sneakers. The old shorts, with ragged bottoms just above his knees, hugged his slim hips and showed off his magnificent physique perfectly, his tanned muscles gleaming in the afternoon sun. Brian groped for Brandon’s hand and squeezed it tight. “It’s him,” he croaked.”

Grady opened his arms wide and laughed, “And last but not least … ta da! Sorry if I kept you waiting guys – just wiping off the sweat and making myself presentable. Then he gave his full attention to Brian, making him feel like the only boy in the world. “And you are our new friend Brian, and it is unforgivable of me to be tardy on your first visit to us.”

He leant down and kissed him on the cheek. “Will you forgive me, Brian? Or do I have to spend the whole meal trying to think of a way to make amends. Come, you must sit next to me at table, with Brandon opposite you.”

Everybody knew what Grady was doing and Mario watched with moist eyes as his lover skillfully helped the boy to relax. Brandon had previously told Grady all about meeting the reclusive boy in his desert trailer and of his obsession with pictures of the ‘New Tarzan’, and Grady’s heart went out to him.

Brian was still staring at him slack-jawed, still blushing, unable even to murmur hello. Grady ruffled his hair and chuckled, “You’re not alone kiddo. These days I seem to have that tongue-tied effect on people I meet – goes with the territory, the price of fame. Makes me feel like that Greek monster woman, Medusa. One glance from that evil old bitch turned guys to stone.”

There was laughter all round and he even got a shy smile out of Brian. Grady, the hot new movie star, idolized by most people he met, nevertheless kept his feet firmly on the ground, knowing how lucky he had been to have all this. Life, he thought, was pretty much a roll of the dice, and when he met someone like this kid, who had had precious little luck in his life, he felt very tender toward him. Besides, Brian reminded him of a younger cousin of his who he had a crush on as a teenager but family ties prevented him from ever confessing it.

With a shove from Brandon Brian followed Grady to the table set by the pool. Grady sat at the head of the table with Brian on his right, where Danny had had the foresight to leave a chair-less space for Brian to wheel himself in. Brandon sat opposite him with an encouraging smile.

But Brian was still in shock, totally intimidated, and couldn’t stop his hand from trembling. Grady noticed and put his hand over Brian’s in a friendly gesture. “You know, Brian, all this is brand new to me and to tell you the truth it scares me to death. He swung his other arm out to indicate the extensive grounds and managed to knock over a wineglass that shattered on the ground.

“Oh shit, sorry guys. Danny I’m real sorry.” Danny grinned with a “no matter, sir” as he hurried over and picked up the pieces. Both Danny and Mario suspected Grady had done it deliberately and they knew why. Grady grinned at Brian and said confidentially, “Fuck, I’m always doing stuff like that – clumsy as a bull in a china shop, even on the movie set. When I stumble around the set the guys on the crew call me Groggy Grady.”

Grady giggled. “You know, the other day I was supposed to swing down on a vine (it’s a rope really) onto the floor but I fucked up and crashed into a tree. It was a fake tree, a prop, made of cardboard or something, so I wasn’t hurt, but it fell down against another one and pretty near brought down the whole damn jungle.

“Well, there was a big burst of applause and plenty of catcalls and I mugged my way out of it by taking a deep bow, but inside I felt this high,” holding his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. And the guys on the crew wouldn’t let me forget it. The pulled down a length of the plastic vine, weaved a wreath of it and planted it on my head, crowning me ‘Tarzan the Twit’.”

Everyone round the table laughed (though they had heard the story before) and Brian smiled for the first time and said shyly, “I don’t think you’re a twit, sir.”

“You hear that, guys?” Grady shouted. “Brian doesn’t think I’m a twit. At last someone appreciates me … I wish I could get the same kind of respect from the rest of you guys.”

Brian giggled and his face broke into a sparkling smile. As Brandon had seen in the desert, when Brian smiled his face was transformed from frowning nervousness to sudden youthful delight. Grady thought the same as Brandon had back then … it was now not only a good-looking face but one you wanted to kiss, which is exactly what Grady did.

He leaned forward and kissed Brian on the cheek, then pulled back and said, “Hey, you wanna hear some other stories from the studio. I got a bundle of them, but I only tell close friends like you guys. If the tabloids got hold of it they’d have a field day and the producers would be none too pleased.”

As Brian listened wide-eyed Grady regaled him with funny stories, again making him feel like he was the only boy who existed for him right now. As he watched, Mario was brimming over with love for Grady. Of course he was totally gorgeous and lots of fun, not to mention great sex, but above all it was his kindness and his ability to put a boy like Brian at ease that made Mario’s heart beat faster for him.

Mario was sitting on the other side of Brandon and now whispered in his ear. “The man’s incredible, isn’t he? I’m not quite sure what’s happening right now, amico, but … um, Brian is your friend and I want to make sure this is OK … like, you’d tell me if there are any limits, right? I mean, Brian is kind of fragile and I can put a stop to it whenever you say.”

“Oh no, sir, please don’t do that. Brian is having a wonderful time. I think it’s … it’s kind of a turning point for him. He’ll meet some of the other guys too later, but right now I’d say let Grady do his thing. You’re right, he is a wonderful man … and so are you, sir, for understanding.


Grady spent most of the meal in conversation with Brian, subtly drawing the boy out, segueing from his studio stories to features of Brian’s own life in the desert. For a while Brian was so relaxed he forgot that he was talking to the sexual icon whose pictures he drooled over and jerked off to every day.

But his nervousness kicked back in when, at the end of lunch, Grady said, “Hey, Brian, can I give you a tour of the house? I love doing that … I still can’t believe that it all belongs to me and Mario. Nah,” he grinned, “you’d think I was just showing off.”

“No … no I wouldn’t, sir. I’ve never seen a house like this so I’d like …”

“OK, it’s a deal,” Grady laughed. “Hey guys, you’ll have to excuse Brian and me for a while. I’m gonna give him the grand tour.”

Brandon and Mario nodded in agreement and the other boys exchanged glances, their already sky-high admiration of Grady having just gone up a few notches. The two left the table and went toward the house. Grady knew better than to offer to push Brian’s wheelchair – he had learned that much from Brandon.

And so the tour proceeded, with Brian’s amazement at the house competing with his lustful excitement at Grady’s proximity. His face was on a level with Grady’s shorts and he cast several quick glances at the bulge in his crotch. And when Grady bent over him and pointed out a feature of the house, Brian smelled the faint odor of the sweat under his armpits, making his heart beat wildly.

There was a rather grand, curving staircase that, Grady noticed, filled Brian with trepidation. Don’t worry, kiddo, we got something else that’ll amaze you … still amazes the hell out of me.” He led Brian over to a small elevator. “Not many houses have these, eh?” The doors slid open, they squeezed inside the small space and Brian thought he would pass out as he sat there with Grady’s thigh pressed lightly against his face.

“As they stepped out at the upper level and went to the master bedroom Grady grinned, “And this is where all the serious action takes place. I gotta say that me and Mario spend a whole lot of time up here. Poor Danny never gets a chance to tidy the room as you can see.” The huge California King bed was still unmade, with rumpled sheets and underwear strewn over it. “Sorry about that, kiddo. I guess this is us at our worst.”

“At your best, I would say, sir.”

Grady roared with laughter and ruffled his hair. “That’s my boy.” He sat on the edge of the bed, faced Brian and grinned mischievously. “Listen, kid, do you know what fantasy is? I mean, do you ever fantasize?”

“Oh, all the time, sir,” Brian said impulsively. “When I watch porn I imagine it’s me in the video, like I can feel the guys in it. And when I look at pictures of you, sir, I wonder what it would be like to touch you and feel your ...” He suddenly stopped in alarm and blushed deeply, thinking he had gone way too far.

But Grady flashed his big smile again and said, “Great. Now, did you know that Brandon is in a short scene in my movie?” Brian looked startled. “He never told you, uh? Well see, Tarzan is supposed to have rescued this couple and their son in the jungle. The boy is in a wheelchair and gets separated from the group and lost in the jungle. He struggles to wheel himself through the trees and then Tarzan swoops in, scoops him in his arms and carries him to safety.”

“Well that’s the end of the scene, but I often wondered what would happen if, instead of taking the boy to safety, Tarzan took him to his lair in the jungle. I mean, Tarzan’s a pretty lonely guy – only chimps for company – so when he meets a cute boy …” Grady shrugged and grinned.

“By the way, did I tell you that you remind me of a cousin I used to have as a teenager in school? He had the same long, tousled hair as you, the same cute face, same freckles, same nicely developed upper body like yours. I had a real crush on him at school but, well of course, I was too scared ever to do anything about it.”

Suddenly Grady stood up and paced the floor his hands linked behind his head. “Shit I’m hopeless at this kinda stuff, making a real hash of it and confusing the hell out of you. You’re probably thinking who is this whacko nutcase … get me the hell out of here.”

“No, sir, no, I wasn’t thinking that at all. Just the opposite, actually.”

Grady grinned down at him. “OK, kid, here it is … I’m just gonna cut to the chase. Do you ever get fucked in the butt?”

Brian nearly choked but managed to stammer, “Er … do I get … no, sir. I mean yes, sir. A long time ago by this teacher in my Special Ed school. He used to take me behind the bleachers and … but he said I should never tell anyone and I didn’t. I, er, I kinda liked it, sir, but it never happened to me again.” He shrugged. “See, I never really see any other guys now.”

“OK, that does it.” Grady reached down, scooped Brian up in his arms and laid him gently on his back on the bed. “Remember my fantasy I told you about the boy in the jungle? Well hold that thought, kiddo, ‘cos I got something to show you.” Grady left the room.


Suddenly Brian was alone in this grand master bedroom, lying on the rumpled sheets where Grady and the handsome Italian had recently made love. There was a faint smell of sweat and, he could swear, of dry jism. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine them on this very bed. His imagination went to the many pictures he had of Grady – in the underwear he had modeled and especially of the publicity shots of him as Tarzan.

His cock was throbbing and he instinctively stroked the bulge in his shorts. It was what he did so many times a day looking at those pictures on his laptop, the pictures that made him shoot load after load. But suddenly he panicked as the truth crashed in on him that he was no longer in his desert trailer but was actually lying on that same man’s bed.

His eyes flew wide open … and “aaagh” … His body shook, then tensed, and his cock exploded in his shorts. He was staring at the doorway where Tarzan had come to life. His arms were stretched upward, hands braced against the top of the doorframe as he leaned slightly forward, legs apart. He was wearing his ragged brown loincloth, his magnificent body flexed and gleaming in the sunlight streaming through the window.

“Aaagh,” Brian gasped again as he cock kept pouring sperm in his shorts. Then he started to sob. He had fucked up… he hadn’t meant to cum, it was … he didn’t know … he didn’t mean …

Tarzan strode over to the bed and stared down at him. “You crying because you’re lost and afraid, boy? Don’t worry. You’re safe with me. Here, let me make you more comfortable. He pulled the T-shirt off over Brain’s head, took off his sneakers and pulled his shorts off over his feet. He pulled down his undershorts but then winced, “What’s this, boy?”

He held them to his face and inhaled. “Did you bust your load in these?” He leaned down, rubbed his finger over the boy’s stomach and sucked it in his mouth. Yeah, it’s cum! He paced the room, again with his hands behind his head in a gesture of annoyance. “Godammit, I rescue you, save your life, bring you here and you … you fucking jerk off!” He knelt on the bed between Brian’s legs and glared down at him. “Did I say you could cum, boy? Did I?”

“No, sir,” Brian moaned desperately. “But I couldn’t help it, I just … I’m sorry, sir. I’ll leave now, sir. I wanna go home to the desert. I’m safer there with my pictures.”

“The hell you will. You gotta get punished, boy. Who the hell do you think you’re fooling with? Tarzan don’t take insults from a punk like you.”

He ripped off his loincloth and Brian stared in terror at the huge, stiff cock that sprang out, at the rippling muscles of the perfect physique, at the handsome face seething with anger. He was choking with fear as the wild man pulled the boy’s legs over his shoulders and he felt the tip of his cock touch his ass.

Grady reached for a jar of lube … and his face broke into a dazzling smile. “Hey even Tarzan has lube in the jungle … makes it from the juice of a coconut, I guess. Let’s see how it feels.”

A wave of relief swept over Brian. Grady had been playing with him … he still liked him. And here he was lying on Grady’s bed with the muscle-god of his dreams lubing his stiff cock and smiling down at him. Grady leaned forward pinned Brian’s wrists to the bed above his head and eased his cock between the cheeks of his ass.

But Brian panicked again. This couldn’t be happening, it didn’t make sense that a man like this … “Sir,” he blurted out. “This isn’t a mercy fuck, is it? I mean, I’m just a kid in a wheelchair so why would a big movie star like you ….?”

Grady stopped still and tears came to his eyes. “Oh, Brian, that’s not really what you think is it? Please don’t think of yourself like that. You’re worth so much more than that. I like you kiddo, I really do … your shyness, your pretty body, handsome young face with those freckles and long unruly hair. Just like that cousin I wanted to fuck all those years ago. And now I want to fuck you. Please let me, Brian. May I fuck you … please?”

Brian gulped, “I’m sorry I said that, sir. Yes, sir, I want that, I really do.” Brian knew at that moment that he would do anything for this glorious man. All his fears, inhibitions, frustrations and loneliness, accumulated over so many solitary years, now vanished as he felt his idol’s cock easing into his ass. He gazed up at the smiling green eyes and smiled back.

Slowly, tenderly, Grady eased his cock over the sphincter, then deeper and deeper into the boy’s ass. “Feel OK, kiddo? Doesn’t hurt?” Grady’s voice was like music, his body was flexing over him like a dream come to life, and his cock felt amazing inside him. He was getting fucked by Tarzan, by the most beautiful man in the world!

In a daze he stammered, “Doesn’t hurt at all, sir. It feels … oh … your cock is so … so … oh no … no … aaah!” He felt Grady’s cock deep inside him, his head thrashed from side to side and he felt his own warm juice flooding over his stomach. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, sir, I’ve done it again.”

“Yes you have,” Grady laughed merrily. “But that’s just fine. I’m gonna make you cum many more times before we’re through.”

And he was right. Grady knew how to charm, he knew how to laugh, to make others laugh … he even knew how to swing from trees … but most of all he knew how to make love. And he now took Brian into a magical place he had never visited before. He had never even dreamed of it … didn’t know the language to describe it. Up to now the boy’s life had been lived in dull sepia tones but now a door had opened into a glorious Technicolor world that dazzled him.

Grady leant forward and kissed him, his lips, his eyes, his tangled hair and freckled face, all the while gently sliding his cock in and out of his young, velvet ass. He pulled back, released Brian’s hands, grabbed his ankles and held his legs high in the air while he fucked him. Brian reached up and touched the magnificent muscled body, tentatively at first, then ran his hands over it and dug his fingers into the mounds of his pecs.

The magic went on and on, glowed brighter and brighter, and Brian lost count of how many times he had cum. All he knew was that his body was smothered in semen that mingled with the sweat dripping from the muscle-god rising and falling over him, fucking his ass.

Grady smiled and said, “Impressive, kiddo. You keep shooting loads of jizz. But you’re gonna give me one last load. See, Tarzan gets lonely in the jungle and his balls fill with sperm, just waiting for the right ass to pour it into. Now he’s found it, and he can’t hold back any more. You want the jungle man to fill up your ass with his juice, boy?”

“Yes please, sir. Oh, yes please. Cum inside me, sir.”

Grady laughed and his eyes danced. “OK, kiddo, stand by for the big finish. Here it comes … oh fuck, your ass is so hot, boy, you’re making me cum … fuck … here it is … yeah … yeaahh!”

Brian watched in disbelief as the spectacular body above him flexed, the muscles rippling, and Grady laughingly gave his Tarzan yell as his cock erupted in the boy’s ass and Brian shot one last load that rose up and splashed on Tarzan’s chest. They were both still laughing like schoolboys as Grady fell on Brian and folded him in his arms.


They kissed and licked each other for long minutes until at last Grady rolled off Brian and lay on his back beside him. “Hell,” he grinned, “this bed is a total mess, smothered in jism. Don’t know what Mario is gonna make of this.”

“Oh, he’ll make something of it, amico,” came the lilting Italian accent from the door. “Something that will blow your mind, young Brian. I can’t let my famous friend here have all the fun.”

Brian looked up in alarm at first, until he saw Mario’s smiling face looking down at them. “It looks like you guys have been having a whole lot of fun. But Brian, there is still one thing I bet you don’t know about this Tarzan – something you would never guess. Would you like me to show you?”

Brian saw the mischief sparkling in Mario’s dark eyes and said, “Yes please, sir.” He reached for his wheelchair beside the bed and pulled himself into it. Mario went over to him, scooped the semen from his chest and stomach in his hand and used it to lube his own cock. “I think,” Mario smiled, “it is fitting to use this for what I am about to do.”

“No, man, don’t, please,” Grady pleaded in mock horror. “Not that. It’s my secret … nobody knows.”

Mario roared with laughter. “Ridicolo. Everyone in the tribe knows. It could not be more obvious if you put it to music and sang it from the rooftop.”

“OK, you’re right.” Grady winked at Brian. “So it’s not such a secret. I don’t care.” Brian watched wide eyed as Grady put his hands behind his knees and pulled his legs back, displaying his perfect ass. Mario knelt on the bed, pushed his cock between the cheeks and plunged it deep.

“No,” Brian said impulsively. “He’s Tarzan.”

“Maybe so,” Mario laughed, “but this Tarzan loves dick in his ass.”

“Especially when it’s yours, buddy,” Grady said. “OK, OK, I give up … I confess. I love to get fucked. So fuck me, man. Fuck me hard.”

Brian watched in disbelief as Mario pounded his lover’s ass. This was the hot, alpha male on the billboards, the macho stud in all the pictures, the new, rugged Tarzan. And he was getting his ass ploughed!”

It was the perfect end to Brian’s Tarzan adventure and he laughed along with the two lovers as he stroked his cock and waited until they both howled and climaxed together before he came for what had to be the absolute last time.


“Welcome to our world,” Mario grinned up at Brian as he and Grady lay side by side on the bed. Brian, in a daze of homoerotica, smiled at Tarzan and his beautiful Italian lover, when suddenly there was a shout from the garden below.

“Ah, new arrivals” Grady said as he leapt up off the bed and pulled Mario up beside him. “Loud ones too, it sounds. Let’s take a look, kiddo.” Brian wheeled himself over to the window and sat looking out, with Grady and Mario on either side, each with a hand on Brian’s shoulder, all of them still naked.

“Well, no wonder,” Grady said, “it’s the big bad boss and the boss’s lover. You haven’t met them yet, kid, but the tall gypsy hunk looking like he just came off a construction site is Randy, and the gorgeous muscle-god with him is his lover Bob. They are the founders of the tribe – you could say Randy’s the brawn and Bob’s the brain. No one says no to Randy or he’d slug them, and no one says no to Bob because … because everyone loves him.”

“Yeah but look who they’ve brought with them,” Mario said. “Tommy. You know what that must mean. That handsome young blond, Brian, is Tommy – great body, used to be a gymnast. He’s new to the tribe and loves to be dominated. He’s been totally used and abused by most of the men since he got here and he can’t get enough of it. He’s totally in love with Randy, would crawl on his belly to him … has done, come to think of it.”

“Yeah,” Grady grinned, “and it looks like they’re here for the big finale. Recently, Brian, Tommy got fucked by the twins, Bob’s boys, and took both their dicks at once. Now he’s dying to do the same with Randy and Bob. Good luck to Tommy on that one, though … those two huge dicks? Wow.

Mario said, “I had a feeling they’d come up here to do the deed. You know how they love an audience for that kind of stunt. Well, Brian, your timing’s great, it should be something to see. You thought watching us was sexy? Wait ‘til you get a load of Randy and Bob together working on the Golden Boy.”


TO BE CONTINUED in “A Trial Of Strength” – Chapter 315



Rob Williams

[email protected]


Rate Story Choose rating between 1 (worst) and 10 (best).

Bookmark and Share

blog comments powered by Disqus