The job interview had gone well. Jason had decided to give a big party for all the guys and to have it catered. Bob had suggested that the twins could do the job and had sent them to see him to begin the planning. His last words to them were, "Be bold. Make me proud of you."
And they had taken Bob at his word. Finding the gorgeous fireman asleep, naked on the ground, they had tied him up and taken turns fucking him. Now, as he lay spread-eagled, exhausted, his hands tied above him, he grinned up at the beautiful twins.
"You are fucking awesome, guys. Fucking awesome. Man, that was a hell of a job interview."
"Does that mean we get the job, sir?" Kevin asked.
Jason jerked against the ropes and grinned. "Do I have any choice?"
"Not really, sir," they laughed.
As they knelt beside him untying the ropes Jason said. "Now I gotta sleep for a bit, while you go and check out my kitchen and make a list of everything you need for the party. And I want you to think about something else. See, it's not only the food. I gotta put on some entertainment for these guys. They've all been so good to me so I want something really special. You guys seem to be real inventive, so you think you can come up with something?"
"Absolutely, sir," they said together, their eyes shining. "Actually, we've been talking to the other boys .... kinda fantasizing ..... you know ..... and we already have some ideas that'll make your party one for the record books ..... or as Darius would said, "One for prosperity!"
One thing was for sure. "Make me proud," Bob had said. And the twins knew they had.
Exhaustion now overwhelmed Jason. After all, he had worked the night shift on the fire truck, had come home and pushed himself hard in a grueling workout, then had been tied up and serially ass-fucked by the twins. That was enough to exhaust any man, even one as tough as Jason, and the twins gazed down in awe at the naked muscle-god, his face and body still covered in semen. They ran quickly into his bedroom, brought out a blanket and spread it gently over him.
Before he drifted off to sleep he looked up at the beautiful naked twins and couldn't believe that he felt his cock stirring under the blanket. "Down, boy," he said softly to himself, or rather to his cock. "Hey, guys," he said sleepily. "I wonder ..... you know we've a hell of a lot to get through, planning the party and all. Do you think Bob would let you stay the night here?"
The boys' eyes sparkled. "We can check with him, sir and let you know when you wake up."
"Mmm," Jason sighed. "You guys are the best." And he was asleep.
It was Kevin who got to make the call, rather tentatively, knowing they wouldn't be home to cook dinner. But he needn't have worried. He couldn't see the smile spreading over Bob's face at the other end of the phone, but he heard the pleasure in his voice. "Guys, that's terrific. I'm glad everything's working out so well. How did the job interview go?
Simple question, he thought, so he wasn't ready for the long, detailed reply that gushed from the twins, each one grabbing the phone in turn to talk. Completely honest with Bob, as always, they described every detail of the erotic events and were relieved to hear Bob laughing. "Guys, when I told you to be bold I had no idea ..... but if you all three had a good time, that's the main thing. And Jason sure must have ...... you got the job. So stay, of course, and enjoy your night with him. Don't worry about a thing here ..... we'll manage. Now, if I were you I would ....." But he checked himself. "Nah, no more advice. You guys have it all under control .... including the fireman, it seems."
He was still chuckling as he hung up the phone. His plans were working. First sending Eddie up to Hassan for a couple of days, with the result that Eddie now seemed well on the way to becoming Hassan's boy. Hassan had filled Bob in over the phone and told him Eddie was thrilled at the prospect. And now the twins, spreading their wings and overnighting with Jason. True, it left the house a bit thin on the ground regarding meals and housekeeping, but as he had said, they'd manage for once. All in all a pretty good day's work, he thought.
Bob allowed himself to preen. "Hey, I'm pretty good at this," he murmured with a satisfied grin.
But if the day was going well for Bob, the same could hardly be said for his lover. Randy had started the day in a bad mood, with some urgent problems needing to be tackled at the construction site. It was chaotic today, with several projects demanding extra crew, and some of the projects inevitably collided.
Randy had plenty of help, though. Zack, his second-in-command, was there; Darius too, Randy's assistant; and Pablo, the site mechanic. But they were keeping a respectful distance and Darius rolled his eyes at Pablo as the boss barked his orders. To make matters worse, Randy had a run-in with one of the more belligerent guys on the crew, a big, rugged, muscle-bound stud called Pete who harbored a resentment of Randy's authority and resisted his orders.
The situation escalated throughout the day until finally, near the end of the shift, Randy heard the guy cuss him behind his back. He whirled on him and poked him in the chest. "Listen, asshole, if you don't like the way I run this outfit the gate's right there, wide open, and you and your fucking attitude are welcome to get the hell out. Pete took this as a challenge and swung his fist at Randy's face. Randy blocked the punch but Pete's other fist slammed into his stomach and dropped Randy to his knees.
In seconds the two were rolling over the ground, grappling, punching, trading blow for blow. The two muscular fighters were evenly matched and work stopped as the whole crew stood back and watched. As he saw his master start to take a beating Pablo took a threatening step forward but Zack put a restraining hand on his arm. He knew there was only one way to handle this. Just let it play out.
Pete's anger was as hot as Randy's, and he soon had Randy on his back, kneeling astride him and slamming the back of his fist across his face, one side then the other. He was taking a hell of a beating, but Randy was a street fighter from way back, and nothing stoked his rage and fueled his adrenaline like getting thrashed in a fight. His eyes blazed in his wild, dark gypsy face as he reached up and clamped his hands round Pete's throat and squeezed hard. Pablo saw a manic light in Randy's eyes that he recognized, and he knew his hero would win.
Pete started to choke and his hands flew to Randy's wrists, trying desperately to pull them apart. With a howl like a battle cry Randy tightened the chokehold, pushed Pete backward and heaved himself to his knees. Then, with superhuman strength, he stood up and, still gripping the man's throat, he heaved him up high in the air, so Pete's feet dangled off the ground in a vicious hanging chokehold. His eyes bulging, suspended helplessly from the neck, Pete gripped Randy's wrists desperately to ease the strain on his throat.
There was a collective gasp from the crowd as Randy yelled, "Motherfucker!" and in a spectacular move hurled Pete into the air, then clamped his arms round his waist in a vise-like bear hug. The hold was perfectly applied, with Randy's wrists locked in the small of the man's back, his massive arms squeezing his mid-section savagely.
Helpless in mid-air Pete's arms and legs thrashed wildly, but he knew there was no escape as he felt the life being squeezed out of him. "No!" he screamed. My back .... you're breaking my back. Let go ..... Aaagh! OK, OK, you win ...... I give up. Please ..... I submit....sir!"
Contemptuously Randy tossed the man away from him and Pete sprawled heavily on his back on the ground groaning in pain. "OK, asshole," Randy snarled, "now you know who's boss around here. Now, you're a good, strong worker and I value that, but you have way too much fucking attitude. So it's your choice ...... you can walk out of here and I'll pay you through today, or you can stay and work with the rest of us.
Pete had fought and lost, beaten into submission, but as he stared up at the rugged construction boss his resentment faded, replaced by a grudging admiration for this incredible man who had thrashed him so soundly. And he knew he wanted to go on working for him. "OK," he said, "I'll stay. You're the boss, sir."
Randy leaned down, grabbed his wrist, pulled him to his feet and shook his hand as a couple of guys came forward to support Pete. "OK," Randy shouted. "Shift's over guys." The crowd gazed in awe at the boss, bruised and grazed, his tank top in shreds over his mud-covered chest, tousled black hair falling over his face that gleamed with sweat. He ran the back of his hand over the trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth and glanced quickly at his boy, Pablo.
Awestruck, Pablo bowed his head slightly in an almost imperceptible gesture of hero worship and thought he saw a flicker of a smile pass over his master's face. Randy turned on his heel and strode out through the gate, followed at a respectful distance by the rest of the crew.
Zack looked at Darius and Pablo, shook his head and said simply, "Wow! OK, boys, help me lock up here. Show's over."
Except he was wrong about that.
The 'show' still had a way to go before it played out. Randy's legendary anger, so quick to ignite, took a long time to burn out, as adrenaline still coursed through his veins. His eyes still blazed and he gripped the steering wheel of his truck hard, cursing under his breath as he recalled how nearly he had been beaten by the man. "Motherfucker ...... asshole .... thought he could whip me in front of my boy. I'll show them all who's fucking boss. I'll show them. Shit, I need to fuck ass. And in his mind he saw a vivid image of Bob, the gorgeous man he loved, the man he worshipped, lying naked on the bed.
That was his focus ..... it always was whenever he had done battle. He needed to fuck the ass of his spectacular lover. He drove recklessly, breaking all the laws on the books. If a cop had pulled him over Randy would undoubtedly have slugged him and wound up in jail. But he arrived home unscathed, leapt from the truck, strode to the house and up to his bedroom.
"Fuck!" Nobody there. Somehow he had illogically assumed that Bob would be there waiting for him, and his absence drove Randy's anger into a towering rage. Then the phone rang. Fate had intervened with maliciously bad timing. Randy yanked up the phone and barked into it. "What?!" There was a long pause and then a timid voice at the other end said, "Oh .... er, is Bob there, sir? It's me, Eddie."
"No he's fucking well not here. And where the fuck are you?"
"Er, still at Hassan's, sir. I was just calling Bob to make sure it's still OK for me to stay the night up here. Hassan did speak to Bob but I just wanted....."
"No, it's not fucking OK!" Randy was not even focusing on Eddie .... he was simply venting his anger on the nearest victim. "Get your ass back down here pronto."
Eddie gulped in fear. "But sir, Hassan wants me to stay. I think he wants me to be his boy .... and I think I love him."
Hassan! That fucking Marine .... another image to stoke Randy's anger. "Like hell you're gonna be his boy! That's never gonna happen, kid, trust me, not while I'm boss. You're our fucking houseboy, get it? You live here, and I give the orders. So forget your fucking daydreams about your soldier-boy and get your ass back here now!" And he slammed the phone down.
"Yes, sir," Eddie said in a daze into the dead phone. What was happening? Why had Randy yelled at him? Was he being fired? If only Hassan had been here, but he had gone to pick up take-out food for dinner while Eddie tidied the house. Eddie was running on panic now, not thinking straight. All he knew was that Randy's word was law in that house..... and he wasn't going to let Eddie be Hassan's boy. He had ordered him to go back. Eddie's eyes filled with tears as he scrambled up the path to his truck.
Randy had forgotten all about Eddie the minute he slammed the phone down. He was pacing the room like a caged tiger when suddenly Bob came in. "Jesus Christ," Bob said, staring at the wild-eyed man, face and body covered in scratches and bruises, pants covered in mud, tank hanging torn on his dirt-streaked chest. "You've been in a fight," he said, stating the obvious. "Are you OK?"
Randy gazed with relief at the only man who could help him. His words were part order, part plea as he said, "Get on the bed, man." Bob had only recently come from work and was still in his business suit, so it took him a while to undress. He deliberately did a slow, sensual strip, partly to turn Randy on and partly to give time for his anger to turn off, or at least diminish.
Bob was familiar with this ritual. Whenever Randy's anger was stoked by something at work, especially when he had been in a fight, he came roaring home hotter than a pistol and needed to slam fuck Bob. Bob had no doubt Randy had won the fight .... he always did ...... but by the look of him he had taken a beating in the process, making it even more urgent for him to prove his manhood. Bob was a big, muscular alpha male and reaming his ass was Randy's way of reasserting his authority. He often said he "owned" Bob's ass. Bob knew he didn't really mean that, but saying it helped him overcome whatever insecurities he had. Even the King of the Gypsies had insecurities.
"Come on, man," Randy growled, pacing the room. "I need you fucking naked." By now Bob was stripped to the waist. He kicked off his loafers, dropped his dress pants and lay on his back on the bed, naked except for his white boxers. Randy gazed down at the stunning, dark-haired muscle-god and all his tension, all his anger coalesced into rampant lust for his gorgeous lover. "Man, that is fucking beautiful .... and it belongs to me." He wiped the back of his hand against the corner of his mouth to get the last of the dried blood.
Bob knew what was coming ..... and was fired up with anticipation. He loved Randy like this ..... raw, primitive, like the rugged, sweaty construction worker he had first met that long-ago day in the dingy bar. The savage gypsy towered over him, face marked with the scars of battle, in his mud-stained work pants, boots, his torn tank hanging on his chiseled torso. Randy's breath heaved, his eyes blazed. He ripped open his pants and pulled out his huge, thick cock.
Nursing his cock in one hand he bent down and used the other hand to grab Bob's shorts and rip them clean off. "Oh, man," he growled. "I need to fuck. I need to fuck real bad." He grabbed Bob's legs, threw them in the air, and from a standing position fell against his ass, driving his piston ferociously into the depths of his ass. Bob screamed and pressed his hands against Randy's chest in a futile attempt to push him back. But he knew Randy was in full control .... and loved it."
The pounding was savage but Randy's blue eyes bored into his and Bob was so mesmerized by his powerful, magnetic sexuality that he felt no pain, only the insistent pile driver in his ass. He was amazed to see Randy smiling down at him as he fucked. "Oh, man, you are so right for me. You are so fucking gorgeous, such a stud .... when I fuck you nothing else matters ..... I feel like the king of the world. You want this, don't you, man? You need me to fuck you. You love me, don't you? Tell me, man .... I need to hear it."
Through his heaving breaths Bob groaned, "You know I do, man. I love getting my ass ploughed by that huge rod .... You are so damn hot." His voice rose to a shout. "I love you, man. Fuck me .... harder, man. Make me shoot my load."
"You got it, stud." Randy fell forward and clamped his big rough hands over the mounds of Bob's pecs. Bob still pushed against Randy's chest and that's how they gazed at each other, that's how they saw themselves reflected in each other's eyes, that's how they passed over the barrier from reality to their own private world of infinite passion. Randy still pounded Bob's ass but his voice was softer now. "Here it comes, buddy. Let me see you shoot ..... I'm cumming, man. Now....!"
Two shouts echoed round the room, two muscular bodies jolted, and Bob was suddenly bathed in semen ...... Randy's deep in his ass and his own splashing over his heaving chest, his face and hair. Randy fell forward onto the cum-slicked body and pressed his mouth against his lover's, kissing him ravenously as they rolled together over the bed, locked in each other's arms.
Meanwhile, another drama was unfolding as Eddie drove his little truck blindly down the hill, his eyes filled with tears. All he knew was that the boss was angry and had ordered him to come home. But worse, he couldn't be Hassan's boy. Just as he pulled up at the gate his cell phone rang. "Hey, kiddo," came the cheerful voice. "Where are you? When I got back your truck had gone."
Eddie's spirits lifted at the sound of Hassan's voice but his reply was panicked, disjointed. "I had to come back to the house, sir ...... Randy ordered me home 'cause I'm the houseboy..... I can't stay with you ..... and ..... and Randy said I can't be your boy, sir......it was just a daydream, he said, and I had to forget it."
There was a silence as Hassan took a deep breath and fought to control his anger. When he spoke his voice was calm. "Eddie, listen to me. Do you want to be my boy?"
"More than anything in the world, sir."
"Then you are, kiddo. I want you for my boy ..... so you are."
"There are no 'buts', kiddo. You are my boy and I'm gonna take care of you. Now listen carefully, go straight into the kitchen and stay there 'til I come for you. And don't talk to anyone. You got that?"
"Yes, sir .... thank you, sir." Eddie put down the phone and his spirits soared.
Bob had finally disentangled himself from Randy and they had got off the bed. Bob held Randy at arm's length and chuckled. "You are one hell of a sight, man. Cuts, bruises, your tank top in shreds, pants covered in mud. Must have been a hell of a fight."
"Yeah," Randy grinned, "but you should see the other guy." Randy threw his arms round him and Bob pressed his cheek against his lover's, staring happily out of the window over his shoulder. But suddenly he frowned as he saw the gate open and Eddie ran in, obviously distressed, and went straight toward the kitchen.
Bob broke away from Randy and went to the window. "What the hell was that? Eddie's home, but he's supposed to be up there with..... he didn't phone or anything, did he?"
"What? Oh yeah, that." Randy had forgotten all about it. "Yeah, he called from Hassan's ..... said he was gonna stay the night up there. Like hell he was. I reminded him he's our fucking houseboy ..... told the kid to get his ass back down here at the double. Some cockamamie bullshit about being the soldier's boy. Yeah right, I told him, like that's ever gonna happen. Not in my lifetime. Told him to quit dreaming and get back here where he belongs."
Bob whirled round from the window, his eyes blazing. The harmony in the room was shattered. "You did what?!" Bob ran his hand through his hair and paced the room in disbelief.
"Man, you can be such a cretin sometimes. I set that whole thing up and it was working. I sent Eddie up there for two days hoping the two of them would hit it off and apparently they did ..... big time. The young kid was over the moon ...... and then you come along like a fucking rogue elephant and trample on his dreams. Man, I love you, for my sins, but when that anger of yours takes over you can be a real fucking monster."
"Shit man, I was angry after the fight, all juiced up, and when you weren't here I kinda went crazy. The phone rang and it was the kid, so I just let him have it, I guess."
Bob sneered in contempt. "You just let him have it ..... that shy young kid who we all try to protect ..... you just let him have it. The most junior boy in the house and you just shattered his dream of a lifetime. Well, way to go boss man, I'm real proud of you. Do you have any idea how that poor kid feels right now? There's nothing I hate more than a fucking bully, picking on helpless kids. Listen, do me a favor and stick to men your own size in future, like that guy you beat up."
Bob's tongue lashing had an instant effect. The big construction boss who had roared in like a wild mustang after winning the fight now crumpled as he sat on the bed and buried his head in his hands. He was like a drunk sobering up after a bender and remembering the crazy things he had done. "Oh, shit," he moaned, "I am such a fucking asshole ..... I didn't mean any of that shit ...... I was out of my mind. Hell, that poor kid." He looked up at Bob. "I love the kid, buddy. He looks up to me ..... hell, I once told him if he was ever in trouble he could always count on me." He leapt to his feet. "I gotta go talk to him."
But he didn't get far.
The door crashed open, Hassan strode into the room, walked straight up to Randy and smashed the back of his fist across his face. Randy fell back on the bed stunned, gazing up at the muscular Marine towering over him, formidable in his khaki tank top, military fatigues and boots. His handsome face was wild with anger. "You asshole mother-fucker! You know what you've done, you prick? That sweet kid, that plucky, hopeful, excited young kid ..... you just crushed him, man, pulling the big boss act and scaring the life out of him."
He held his arms out to the side, flexed his muscles and growled, "Get a good look at this, man. This is Eddie's master and Eddie's my boy." He yelled. "He's my boy, and I'll break any man who hurts him ..... anyone ..... asshole boss, King of the Fucking Gypsies .... whoever. Shit, man, it was you made the rule ..... no one interferes between a man and his boy."
His anger building, the solider jabbed his finger down at the stunned construction worker. "Look at you ..... the big hot stud, the big boss who beats up guys and tramples all over defenseless boys. You know what you need, you son-of-a-bitch? You need some guy as tough as you to cut you down to size. You need to get your sorry ass reamed. By this ....."
He ripped open his pants and pulled out his huge, stiff cock.
Randy's instinct was always to fight back ..... but not now. He was feeling huge guilt about how he had treated the boy and knew that he had to be punished by the boy's master. That was the way it had to be. He would have done the same if anyone hurt Pablo. So he stretched out his arms on the bed in a gesture of submission.
Bob knew that too. He knew that the only way for Randy to regain his self-respect was to prove his remorse in a humiliating act of submission. Bob also knew better than to intervene in this master versus master grudge match. So he pulled on his boxer shorts, stood back, arms folded across his chest and watched.
Hassan stared down at Randy in contempt. "You son-of-a-bitch," he snarled. He reached forward, ripped open Randy's cargo pants and yanked them down below his knees. He grabbed the heels of his work boots and pushed his legs in the air, exposing his naked ass. His eyes pierced Randy's like lasers as he growled, "This is for Eddie!" He lunged forward onto the bed, pile-driving his iron shaft savagely into the fiery depths of Randy's ass.
The dark, rugged face flew back and the mouth opened in a soundless scream. Instinctively Randy was determined to endure the brutal punishment in silence, but his body spasmed and tears spurted from his eyes. Hassan paused, then pulled slowly all the way back, tormenting Randy with suspense, paused again, then slammed his cock back into the helpless ass.
And this is how the torment began, slowly, inexorably. Each time the rod pulled out of him and paused Randy held his breath, staring into Hassan's eyes, and waited for the next ferocious spike to drive into his ass. Still he suffered in silence, but Hassan was not silent as he speeded up the attack. "Not such a big shot now, eh, stud? The big bully finally gets his ass hammered. OK, stud, let's turn up the heat."
And he did. No more words, no more pauses ...... Hassan's hips pistoned faster and faster, driving his rod brutally, deep into the man's gut. Randy's agonized face contorted in pain, his head thrashing from side to side, his muscles flexed against the onslaught. Shocked by the Marine's savagery Bob took a step forward but stopped as, even in his pain, Randy turned his head and flashed a look at him. And Bob understood.
As guilty as Randy felt about Hassan and Eddie, the worse pain by far was that he had lost the respect of the man he worshipped. And by silently, stoically enduring this torture while Bob watched, he was trying to regain that respect. This was his penance, but while Hassan was the instrument of that penance, Bob was the real target of Randy's remorse. So Bob let the punishment run its course. In fact, as he watched, he could hardly believe that his cock was stirring in his shorts.
Whatever else it was, whatever passions it involved, the sight was incredibly erotic as the muscle-stud Marine jackhammered the ass of the rugged construction worker. Without breaking eye contact Hassan reached forward, clamped his hands on Randy's chest and squeezed his nipples, twisting them brutally in his fingers. Flinching at the added pain Randy reached up and clawed at Hassan's chest, grabbing his khaki tank in both fists.
At first Bob thought he was trying to push the Marine away to lessen the pain. But then he realized with amazement that Randy was not pushing, but pulling Hassan toward him by his bunched-up tank, urging him on to fuck harder, to pound his ass in the retribution he deserved. The pain in his ass and his tits was excruciating but he wanted more, needed more, to prove his remorse to Bob.
It was a supreme irony. When Randy had first stormed into the room his need was to prove his manhood to himself by reaming Bob's ass. Now he needed to prove to Bob that he was a real man by enduring the humiliation of having his own ass brutally fucked. He had to be broken by another master, equal to him in strength and beauty.
As Randy yanked at Hassan's tank it ripped away from his chest and hung from his shoulders, but neither man was aware of it as the soldier pounded relentlessly, torturing the construction boss's ass and chest. But now Hassan's rage was tinged with admiration for the stoic endurance of the ravaged man. "OK, man," he gasped breathlessly. "You're tough .... I know you can take all the pain I can dish out. But what I want is an apology for me and my boy ..... and I want more than words .... I want you to show it. I want to see the ultimate act of surrender to me and my boy. And man, I'm gonna pile-drive that ass until you submit.
He yanked his hands off Randy's tits and fell forward, pinning his wrists to the bed above his head. Their eyes locked and Hassan said, "Here it comes, man." The Marine piled every ounce of his strength into the savage fuck, his hips slamming forward mercilessly, driving his steel rod ever deeper into Randy's shattered ass.
And finally Randy let go, opening his mouth in a piercing scream that echoed round the room. Tears streamed from his eyes, his massive body bucked and heaved, muscles rippling and pouring with sweat. At last the beaten construction worker howled, "OK, man ..... you win ..... I can't take any more ..... please, you're ripping me open ...... I'm begging you ..... aaagh ..... my ass! ...... OK, I submit, I give up ...... I apologize ..... I submit to you, sir...... aaagh...!" His body convulsed, his head flew back and his cock exploded in a massive stream of hot juice that splashed down on his chest, his agonized face and into his tousled black hair.
Hassan howled in triumph as he drove his cock deep one last time and blasted his cum into the tortured asshole that had taken such a savage pounding. When his cock had drained Hassan pulled it out, leapt to his feet and gazed down at the incredible sight. The dark demon muscle-god lay beaten and humiliated on the bed, his shirt hanging in shreds, pants crumpled round his boots, his stubbled face and muscular body scratched and bruised, smothered in dirt, sweat and semen. He had been tortured, brutally fucked in the ass, had begged the soldier for mercy and screamed in defeat and abject submission to the dominant Marine. It was total degradation.
The King of the Gypsies had been broken. And whatever battles he fought in the future, he would never again abuse his power over a defenseless boy.
Bob was proud of his lover. Through pain and humiliation he had acknowledged his guilt and demonstrated his remorse. But Bob knew better than to go to him. At such moments Randy needed a little time and space to re-gather his strength and reassume his role as boss. Instead, Bob found himself shaking the hand that Hassan had offered him. "You know I had to do that, buddy," Hassan said. "No hard feelings on your part, I hope."
Bob smiled. "I know Randy well enough to know that he would have done just the same to any man who hurt Pablo. And I know that he'll respect you for what you did. Here, come and clean off in the bathroom and let me find you a T-shirt. Randy kind of shredded yours."
While they chatted quietly for a while in the bathroom, restoring the harmony that usually existed between them, Randy was pulling himself together. He always recovered quickly from a beating and now, as he eased himself painfully off the bed and pulled up his pants, he had one objective in mind .... something he absolutely had to do. Quietly he left the bedroom.
In the kitchen Eddie was talking quietly to Nate, trying to explain everything that had happened. He was nervous about Nate's reaction as Nate had, after all, been Hassan's boy when Adam was out of town. But he needn't have worried. Nate was still riding on Cloud 9 over the prospect of living with Adam as his boy now that Adam was moving permanently to Los Angeles, and he was thrilled that Hassan had chosen Eddie to take his place. Even in his euphoria he had felt some concern about Hassan, as if he were deserting him for Adam, so everything seemed to be working out fine.
Well, not quite everything. There was still the problem of ..... At that moment the door crashed open and a wild man stood there, the big muscular boss, still bearing the marks of a fight, his shirt hanging off him in shreds, body heaving with ragged breaths, eyes gleaming. Eddie gasped and shrank back against the wall, trying to hide behind Nate. After the savage way Randy had spoken to him earlier the boy was terrified.
So he was amazed when Randy stretched out his arms and said gently, "Come here, Eddie." Afraid as he was, Eddie would not dare defy the boss and he walked forward nervously, to find himself folded in the muscular arms in a warm embrace. Randy cradled him gently in his arms and whispered in his ear. "Hey, kiddo, all that stuff I said to you earlier ..... it was all crazy talk, total bullshit ..... I must've been off my head, in a rage at someone else. I love you, boy, you're a great kid and I'm sorry I hurt you."
He pulled back and gazed into Eddie's eyes. "Yeah, you'll do fine as Hassan's boy. He couldn't have chosen anyone better. And I hope that in time you'll both come to look on me as your friend. You think that might happen?"
Eddie stared in surprise at the pale blue eyes smiling into his and said shyly, "I do, sir. Thank you, sir." He fell against his chest and once again felt Randy's arms close round him. Neither one was aware of Bob and Hassan standing in the doorway. Alarmed at finding Randy gone they had run down to the kitchen, but they pulled up short as they saw Randy hugging the boy.
It was nothing short of amazing. The big rugged boss, who so far today had thrashed a man in a brutal fight, then vented his anger by fucking Bob's ass, and finally been crushed by the angry Marine, who had reamed his ass, broken him and made him submit ..... this was the same man who was now cradling Eddie gently in his arms, like a wild animal nurturing its cub.
Hassan cleared his throat and Randy turned round. After an awkward silence Hassan stretched out his hand and Randy grasped it firmly. Their eyes met for long seconds and then Randy said simply. "Thanks, man. He's a great kid. Be proud of him."
"I am," said Hassan. He broke away and took Eddie into a warm hug. Bob looked at Randy, smiled and shook his head. "Incredible," he said. "You are so fucking awesome, man."
"Are we OK?" Randy asked anxiously.
"Better than ever, stud. And I'll try to prove that later ..... maybe after you've cleaned up, though." He turned to the others. "Hey, soldier, before you whisk Eddie back to your lair, why don't the two of you stay to dinner?" Hassan gave him a smile of acceptance. "Even though," Bob continued, "we don't have anyone to cook it. The twins are spending the night with Jason."
"Oh no problem there, sir," said Nate, suddenly stepping forward. He thickened his Australian accent and grinned widely. "No worries at all, mate. You've got two Aussies right here. So Adam and me .... we'll just throw a bunch of shrimps on the barbie."
So barbecue it was. Adam and Nate cleaned off the brick barbecue that Randy had built long ago, the same one where the twins had once used too much lighter fuel and started a fire, summoning the fire-brigade. One of the fire crew had been the spectacular, blond calendar hunk, Jason. One thing led to another and at this very moment they were at his house, planning his big party and spending the night there, taking care of his non-party needs too.
Adam and Nate worked with the expert barbecue skills that all Aussies seem to be born with. Their enthusiasm was heightened by simply being together, knowing that this was the first of many meals they would cook together as master and boy. Actually, the meal turned out to be a double celebration, marking the union not only of Adam and Nate, but Hassan and Eddie too.
All the men of the house were gathered, except the twins, of course. Eddie and Jamie were setting the table by the pool and bringing out salads and drinks while Adam and Nate worked the barbecue. Bob, Mark and Hassan were huddled together, trying to restore normalcy to the house after the dramatic events of the day. Zack and Darius had just arrived from across the street and Pablo had cornered Randy, who was now looking less like a wild man, having showered and put on clean jeans and a white T-shirt, insisted on by Bob.
Pablo was still gazing in awe at his master. "You were awesome in that fight, sir. You really kicked ass, showed the guy who was boss."
"Yeah, but he's a hell of a fighter. And you saw the mistake I made at the start."
"Yes, sir. When you blocked his right hook you let him get under your guard, slam your stomach with his left and drop you. He had you on the ground for a while but I knew you'd beat him. That hanging chokehold was awesome. You can beat anyone..... I want to be just like you, sir."
"No you don't, kid. Sure, I took care of that guy, but then I lost my cool entirely, let my anger rule me, and I demolished that shy young kid Eddie, verbally at least. I paid the price for that and I'm glad I did. Remember, kid, do what you like with guys your own size but never be a bully. Boys have to be protected. Remember that kiddo, 'cause one day soon I hope you'll have a boy of your own." Pablo looked at him in surprise .... that was a whole new concept.
By now the tempo was heating up and Adam and Nate were proudly putting food on the table. "There you go, mates," said Adam. "Barbecue, Aussie style. First of many, I hope." Soon the meal was in full swing and the conversation had split into two groups, men and boys.
The boys were corralled by Darius who had the distinct feeling he had been left out of the loop on the Eddie/Hassan story and was eager to catch up ..... making Eddie keep his promise of "spilling all the beans." He kept pumping the boy for more and more details, knowing that this story, at least, had no need of exaggeration.
In the men's group Randy, having purged his demons, was quickly assuming his role of boss again, anxious to prove to Bob that he had reformed and would be a benign leader from now on. He was bending over backwards to be helpful and creative, especially when the topic turned to Adam and where he would live. He glanced at Bob, then said, "Now listen, guys, Bob and I have been talking about the house next door. The old lady's leaving to live with her sister and putting the house up for sale. We've been toying with the idea of buying it as income property.
He was hitting his stride. "But here's the deal: this tribe of ours is pretty much bursting at the seams, what with Eddie shacking up with the twins and now Adam." He grinned. "We wanna keep the Aussie close so he doesn't take Nate away from us. Don't wanna lose that boy. So here's my plan. We buy the house and offer it to you, Adam, for rent. You'll live there with Nate, of course, and that leaves Nate's current room for Eddie. That would put him next door to Darius and Pablo who can keep an eye on him when he's not at Hassan's place.
"Now, the old lady ran the place into the ground and it needs a shit-load of work, but nothing we can't handle, eh Zack? We can fix it up in no time and Adam can help. As I recall you're pretty impressive when it comes to construction, buddy." Zack grinned at Adam, recalling how last time they worked on a construction project together it turned into a macho trial of strength between the two of them, ending in Adam getting tied up and whipped by the leatherman.
"So how about it guys?" Randy sat back with a self-satisfied smile and a trace of arrogance. In the general chorus of admiration and approval Bob looked at Randy and smiled.
'The boss is back,' he thought.
So the dust of the day had settled and the wheels were set in motion. Adam was to spend the next few weeks here for management orientation with his airline before going back briefly to Sydney to settle his affairs and then move back here for good. He shared Nate's room, of course, while Eddie spent much of his time blissfully with Hassan. Mark and Jamie were content to let all this wash over them, happy with each other and their routine of the blond surfer waiting naked every evening to get fucked by his uniformed cop. Darius joked that the boys were all living in the lap of the gods, and they agreed that was pretty close to the truth.
There was a ton of work to be done and they took it all on with energy. But after a week or so Randy declared a break as they were all in the mood for a party. And they got one. Ever since the twins' two days with Jason, where they mixed work with pleasure ..... and sex ... they had been busy with party preparations. They liked and admired the gorgeous fireman and worked hard to make his party a success. The crowd of men and boys would all need to be well fed and entertained.
So they spent a lot of time at Jason's house, doing whatever food prep they could do in advance, and gathering supplies and drinks. Randy and Zack brought tables from the house and construction site that the twins planned to arrange in the garden with linen cloths over them. The twins even press-ganged the other boys into spending an afternoon tidying up the garden, which Jason had let run riot. Nate and Eddie eagerly accepted their roles as cater-waiters and when the big day came everything was ready.
Everyone was there ..... all the guys from the house, of course, including Adam, then Steve and Lloyd, and Billy, of course, Pablo's dog who was making his rambunctious presence felt. Jason, the genial host, greeted the men and boys as they arrived in high spirits and whooped and hollered when they saw the twins and the waiters. The twins were wearing white sneakers, white shorts and that's all, except for plain white aprons that only partially covered their finely sculpted chests. Nate and Eddie were similarly dressed in white shorts, but instead of aprons they were shirtless except for small white collars round their necks with black bow ties.
"Awesome, dudes," Darius said as he appraised them. "Hey, do the guests get to fuck the help at this party?" Zack clipped him lightly round the head, but he and the other men were seriously impressed by the sight of the four young guys. "Hey," Mark said. "Bob, Adam, Hassan, you better keep a close eye on your boys there. They look so damn cute they'll be getting offers to go live and work with the rich and famous."
"And turn their backs on the hot and horny?" Bob said in mock surprise. "I don't think so, eh guys?" He winked at the twins as they blushed and ran off to the kitchen to start bringing out the food. Randy caught Bob's admiring gaze as he watched them go. "I'm so proud of them," Bob said, "and the way things have turned out. They've really taken control of this event, really come into their own. They're growing up."
"Yeah," Randy chuckled, "well apparently you ain't seen nothing yet, according to the rumors Darius has been spreading. Like I always say, that kid has a mouth like a megaphone."
The meal was a huge success, with the twins laboring mightily in the kitchen, keeping everything in rhythm like orchestra conductors, while Nate and Eddie ran back and forth with food and drinks, good-naturedly dodging the groping, wolf-whistles and bawdy comments of the rambunctious group. Billy was getting under their feet as he ran around excitedly, keeping his eye on Pablo for scraps from the table. "Hey," Randy called out to the boys when all the food was served. "Come and join us. We're not too proud to sit with the help ..... especially when the help's as hot as you guys."
The twins came and sat next to Bob and Randy, and Bob's eyes shone as he said, "You're doing a terrific job, guys. I'm real impressed and proud of you." Nate sat with Adam of course, who whispered to him, "Hey, mate, later tonight I want you to wear that collar and tie when I fuck you, OK? I've fucked plenty of waiters in my time but never any as hot as you look right now." And Eddie sat proudly next to Hassan, basking in the glow of his new master's affection.
Near the end of the meal Randy stood up and raised his glass. "Gentlemen, I propose a toast .... to our new couples of masters and boys ..... Adam and Nate who'll be living next door, and to Hassan and Eddie who will be ..... hell, I leave it to your imagination what they'll be doing. You'll be great together, guys ...but remember, if you ever get angry with each other you can always count on me to referee. As you know, anger management is a specialty of mine."
There were howls of laughter and derision, then loud applause as Randy sat down and clamped his mouth over Bob's in a long, lingering kiss.
It was when the meal was over that the party swung into high gear. And the roles of the twins changed from orchestra leader in the kitchen to ring master as they stood up and faced the audience, which was by now well lubricated with liquor. The twins raised their hands for silence and when they spoke they traded off, Kyle speaking one sentence, then Kevin the next. It was a perfect double act.
"Gentlemen," Kyle began, "Jason has entrusted us with today's entertainment." A smattering of applause, then Kevin took over. "We and the other boys have been talking." There was a collective groan from the masters. They knew of old that that statement always spelled trouble.
"We are all a bit frustrated that we are the one's always to get fucked ..... some would even say 'fucked over'." ("No way .... shame!" came the lusty objections from the men.) "So, we decided that today would be a great opportunity to turn the tables ..... that's if our masters are men enough to take it." (More raucous protests from the men.) "This means," Kyle said over their ribald shouts, "that the boys are in charge ..... but there will be audience participation. To demonstrate, we are now gonna turn it over to the man who likes to call himself senior boy. Please, gentlemen, give it up for ...... Pablo!"
As they withdrew to the side Pablo bounced up before the audience and bowed, reveling in his turn in the spotlight. He raised his hand to quell the burst of applause and whistles and said. "Now the twins are running this show, but they have given each boy his choice of master. Not much doubt who mine will be .... my dad and sparring partner."
"You watch your lip, boy," Randy laughed.
"Now, when most of you guys fuck you probably take it nice and easy. But me and Randy ..... we never do anything nice and easy." He smiled as he growled, "We like to do it ....nice.... and rough!" Big cheers from the spectators. "So I'm gonna ask my master to follow my lead." He walked forward, grabbed Randy's hand and pulled him out front.
"This better be good, kid," Randy grinned.
"Oh, it will be, sir, if you do as I say." Pablo pulled off his shirt and Randy, facing him, did the same, all accompanied by drunken cheers from the group and enthusiastic barking from Billy. Then Pablo kicked off his sneakers, dropped his shorts and stood naked except for his white boxers. Rand gave a resigned shrug, kicked off his boots and dropped his jeans. He also (thanks to Bob) was wearing white boxers, and now master and boy stood facing each other.
"Sir," Pablo said, "I learned this from you when I saw you challenge a guy once. Both guys wrestle, ripping at each other's shorts, and whoever winds up naked first is the loser and..... guess what ..... gets his ass fucked by the other."
Randy grinned and visibly relaxed. "You sure about this boy? This is me you're talking to. OK, you're in charge. Just be prepared to get that sweet ass of yours jackhammered."
"Just as you say, sir," Pablo grinned. They began to circle each other, wrestlers looking for an opening. The crowd went wild, not least Billy, caught up in the excitement, barking frantic encouragement as he ran round and between them. He was, as always, just being protective of Pablo. The boy and his dog could read each other's minds .... they made a great team.
TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" - Chapter 166