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This
story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission
of the author. The author may be contacted at rkhaan@ix.netcom.com or via
ICQ #51761475. More stories can be
found at http://www.asstr.org/~Rob_Morton.
Copyright
1998, Robert B. Morton, II, all rights reserved.
Disclaimer
For
those individuals not of legal age to read this where they live, shame on
you! For those folks who may be
offended by this writing, all I can say is caveat lector--you have been
warned. The following is a work of
fiction and the usual statements about bearing any resemblance to people or
places, living or dead, being coincidental, etc., apply here.
Playing
Hooky, by Rob Morton
One
I've
always said I had the most fun of my life while in high school. Even beyond what was obvious, high school
was filled with so many wonders! Ah,
but as you might expect, school quickly went from being new and wonderful to
one boring day after another. And, to
top it off, the seniors in this year's graduating class were already targeting
their underclassman victims to "torture" throughout their remaining
year.
A
sophomore, I had just recently hit my growth spurt, going from a pitiful
4'11" to a rather respectable 5'10".
I'd even picked up a bit of weight, tilting the scales at a whopping 132
pounds. Yeah, okay - so I was a tall,
skinny Black kid! But, on the inside, I
was a giant among men!
One
crisp November morning, I boarded the first of two buses which would transport
me to prison, uh, school. The first bus
deposited me in front of the town's only major hotel and I joined my classmates
in harassing the early morning diners in the hotel's street level
restaurant. It got old pretty quick,
which was good since one of the waiters caught us and drew the drapes. The game over for today, I looked down the
street at the growing crowds.
It
was an unusually warm day for November.
You could smell the freshness in the air which suddenly made me very
unwilling to go to school. Just as I
began to think about how I might avoid going to school, I was distracted by a
loud noise, barely 50 feet away - a car and a bus had decided to get together
and it was pretty ugly.
While
I joined the others in gawking at the accident scene, the bus I was supposed to
get on pulled up and quickly pulled away.
I caught a glance of the route number, realized what had happened and
cursed myself for not paying attention.
"Look
at it this way," my mind said.
"You can either wait for another bus and be an hour late or just
forget about school today."
Hey! There's a good idea if I
ever heard one. I remained standing at
the bus stop, trying to decide what to do with my newfound freedom when someone
called out to me.
Two
"Hey! My man!
Need a lift to school?"
Turning, I looked at the person behind the wheel of a car which had
pulled up just inches from where I stood.
I immediately recognized the driver - Damien something or the
other. He was well known for giving
kids who missed the bus rides to school.
I hesitated, thinking if Damien took me to school, I'd lose this chance
for a free day. The goody-two-shoes
part of me reminded me what would happen when my mother found out I'd bagged
school - and she'd find out!
"Sure, Damien. Might as
well."
"Hop
in!" Damien waited until I had
closed the door before pulling away and rounding the corner. Immediately, I became alarmed.
"Hey! School's the other way!"
"Yeah,
I know. Besides, you didn't look like
you wanted to go."
Even
though he was right, I felt a little funny about being with Damien. He was about my height, obviously heavier
and most definitely older, probably around 30 or so. He was also about my complexion, which resembled coffee with a
little extra cream and his hair was very short compared to the gigantic Afro I
usually wore which, today, was under the control of some very tight braids.
Damien
turned to find me watching him.
"Hey, don't get bent. How
about we go back to my place and find something to do?" Still wary, I nodded.
"Great,"
Damien exclaimed. We'll have a great
time!"
Minutes
later, we pulled up in front of an apartment building in a somewhat nice
neighborhood. I'd been in this part of
the city before but not for a while. I
felt better knowing I was somewhere I recognized. Damien led me up a few flights of stairs, stopping before the
door to his apartment. After fumbling
for his keys and unlocking the door, he made a grand gesture of inviting me in.
As
I stepped across the threshold, I was taken aback at the sheer luxury of the
interior - looking at the outside of the building, you'd never think the inside
could look this good. The living room
was appointed in all-white furnishings, with the exception of the console organ
tucked into one corner. Its polished,
cherry wood finish stood out starkly in the blinding whiteness of the room.
Damien
saw me ogling the instrument. "Do
you play?" he asked, moving off to the small kitchen area.
"Yeah. Been playing for a few years now." I couldn't take my eyes off those ebony and
ivory keys.
"Go
ahead. Try it out. Want something to drink?"
Excited
at an opportunity to run my fingers over the keyboard, I only nodded. Reverently, I sat on the bench, my hand
running lightly over the keys and stops.
A flick of a switch and the organ hummed with power. While I was familiarizing myself with the
layout, Damien walked up, handing me a glass.
"Oh,
thanks," I muttered, thoroughly distracted. "What is it?"
"A
little fruit punch. Let me know if you
like it, okay?"
"Sure,"
I answered taking a sip and wincing at the rather strong taste. After a second, it didn't taste all that
bad, so I took a bigger gulp.
Three
God,
to know then what I know now! I was so
focused on the organ, I never really noticed (1) how warm it had gotten in the
room, (2) the fact that the room was suddenly turning on its own and, (3)
Damien was now standing directly behind me, his hands on my shoulders.
"You
play well." His whispered voice
suddenly appeared in my ear, causing me to get a case of the chills while
causing me to jump.
"Thanks,"
I said nervously, now feeling a little uncomfortable at Damien's
closeness. Not wanting him to see this,
I reached for my glass, draining it in one gulp.
"Need
a refill?"
I
nodded, glad to have him away from me.
He returned seconds later, handing me the frosty glass, half its
contents disappearing in the blink of an eye.
All of a sudden, I couldn't seem to remember why I was so
nervous... The room seemed to tilt over
about 30 degrees and I felt so strange!
Not really bad, but not all that great, either. I slid off the organ bench, making a vain
attempt to stand. I staggered forward
and Damien was right there to catch me.
"Great
fruit punch, don't you think?", he asked, wrapping his arm around my
waist.
Despite
being unable to stop the room from spinning, I found myself agreeing with
him. "Sure is." The room had finally decided to settle down
and I became aware of Damien's closeness.
Somewhere, in the back of my mind, bells and whistles were going off as
Damien pulled me closer to him, pressing himself against my backside. He nibbled on my ear and I could now feel
his hard cock between us.
"Want
some more?" he cooed into my ear, sending chills through me. He reached around with his free hand,
massaging me into an instant erection.
"N.no,"
I stammered. I wanted to resist his
advances and found myself unable to do anything more than just stand there as
he methodically undressed me. Taking me
by the hand, he led me into the bedroom and, as we passed the kitchen, I caught
a glimpse of the huge bottle of wine which sat there, also noticing the bottle
was damn near emptied. Inwardly, I
cursed myself for being so stupid; Damien had succeeded in getting me pissy
drunk! And now, he's going to do
something to me.
The
wine's effects were devastating, leaving me with little control over myself at
a time I needed to be in control.
Damien carefully laid me on the bed; I tried to roll to one side and
found myself unable to move. Helpless,
I watched as my seducer undressed, his huge cock springing free of his
underwear. A bolt of fear ripped
through me as my worst fears were confirmed: He's going to fuck me and there's
nothing I can do about it!
Four
"You
might be wondering why you can't move very much," he started, walking over
to the bed and positioning himself with his arm bridging my midsection. "See, I added a little something to the
wine to make you more, ah, agreeable."
I
could feel the hot tears of shame flowing down my face. God, I had walked right into this! Just as I was fervently wishing I had gone
to school, Damien lowered his head to my cock, which was fully erect and very
willing.
"What
a tool," he husked. "Didn't
think a little guy like you would have so much meat." Inwardly, I beamed at the compliment and
gave myself a mental slap at the same time.
My cock, now at it's full eight-inch length and two inch thickness, was
the running joke in the locker room at school.
The guys in my gym class harassed me unmercifully about my dick being
double-jointed, something I realized later in life was just them being jealous
of my endowment.
Flat
on my back and completely helpless, I watched as Damien slid inch after inch of
my cock into his mouth, his hands alternating between working my sac and
fingering my asshole. Moans of delight
rumbled in his throat as he sucked me, once or twice taking me into his throat
completely and effortlessly. Shame
burned through me like a forest fire as my traitorous man-meat submitted to his
will, pulsing and throbbing, urging him on.
Seconds later, I could feel my balls tightening and that very familiar
quivering began to run along my blood-engorged length.
I
uttered a silent scream as I flooded Damien's mouth with an unbelievable amount
of sperm, so much he couldn't contain it within his mouth. He withdrew and I had a good view of my cock
spurting like a fire hose, huge streams of come jetting several inches into the
air, coming to rest on my stomach and chest.
To say the least, I was impressed despite the situation I was in. I'd never come like this before in my life -
it had to be whatever he put in my drinks!
Damien
looked at me, somehow sensing my introverted revelation. "Oh, yeah, baby. That stuff really works wonders, doesn't
it? Now, it's my turn..." Damien reached up above and to the right of
me, his huge cock dangling in front of my face. I could count the individual veins and arteries which ran along
that monstrous, uncircumcised dick, which had to be at least ten or eleven
inches long. A clear drop of pre-come
hung perilously from the slit of his distended knob and I shuddered.
Five
Damien
hung there for a moment, watching the fear and fascination in my eyes. "Your dick is thicker, but mine's is
longer, baby. Here." Reaching down, Damien slid that gigantic
prick between my lips. If I could have,
I would have bitten his glans right off his body... Damien spent the next couple of minutes gently fucking my
unresisting mouth and, to my horror, I was really starting to enjoy feeling his
swollen member sliding into my mouth.
Above me, he was cursing softly, muttering somewhat gentle obscenities
as he worked my mouth, telling me how good I was sucking him.
After
an eternity, Damien withdrew his spit-slickened knob and I felt a moment of
sadness. It surprised me so much I
would have tossed my cookies if it had been possible. However, I didn't have time to think about it because my next
view of Damien was of him sliding his hand along the length of his hose-like
member, leaving a glistening trail of some kind of jelly.
Finished
with his task, Damien looked directly into my brown eyes. "Sorry to have to do this, but it'll be
over with soon. Try to relax."
Relax? Between the booze and the drug, if I were
any more relaxed, I'd be dead! However,
I was beginning to get some response from my arms; as Damien positioned himself
between my legs, I managed to take a pitiful swipe at him, which he parried
easily.
"Drug's
starting to wear off, I see," he said absently, his attention unwavering
as he lifted my legs and knees, exposing me.
"Guess, I'll have to hurry a little." Without a further word, Damien leaned
forward and I felt the painful, sickening feeling of his cock head sliding into
me. Sweet Jesus! Was it ever going to stop? Damien grunted as inch after inch slid into
my ass. Satisfied, he began stroking
inside me slowly at first then with increasing speed.
He
reached down and grabbed my cock, which was still very much erect despite my
having shot off like a fucking fire hose.
As he plunged into me for what seemed to be the millionth time, I came
in long white spurts, just as before.
Wave after wave of orgasmic delight flowed over me even though all I
wanted to do was die at the moment.
"Oh,
yeah, baby. Shoot that spunk! Damn!
Look at it!" Stupidly, I
looked as my seed continued to flow from me, covering Damien's hand. That very sober part of me was impressed
right to hell, making a note to ask him what he had used on me - and to ask
where I could get some.
To
my diminishing horror, I remained hard, as if I hadn't already come twice. Damien was off in his own world, his lips
moving silently as his whole body stiffened.
His eyes went unbelievably wide and he had a look on his face I will
remember until the day I die. A
heartbeat later, I could feel his load flooding my violated backside, sliding
past his cock and running like a river down the crack of my ass.
"Yes! YES!" he screamed as he worked his cock
into me, the scalding hot spurts of semen continuing to rain inside of me. "Take it! Take my stuff!"
Moments later, I could feel his cock softening inside of me and he
pulled out with a sickening plop. My tortured
innards heaved a little and I could feel his seed pumping out of my very sore
asshole. I wanted to die, so great was
my humiliation.
Six
Damien
wasn't finished with me, though. Still
a little shaky himself, he reached down and grabbed the tube of lubricant, this
time applying it to my freakishly hard cock.
"A little revenge for you, dear heart. After all, it just wouldn't be fair for me to have all the fun,
would it?" I just lay there,
thinking dark, dangerous thoughts. Not
waiting for any response from me, Damien straddled me, positioning my swollen
glans at his back entrance. I could see
him focus on some internal point before plunging his body onto my thick shaft.
For
a brief second, I could see pain flash across his features and I felt
vindicated knowing I could hurt him in some way. He took a few moments to adjust to me, muttering, "Damn,
this thing is big! You should be proud
to have a cock this big; probably drives the girls crazy, huh?"
I
couldn't believe this! Here was this
grown man who, moments ago, had drugged me, sucked me, fucked me - and was now
riding my cock for all he was worth, having a conversation with me like we were
old friends! My thoughts grew darker...
Damien
leaned forward while continuing to impale himself on my cock which, I had to
admit, felt pretty good buried up his backside. I could feel the outer ring of muscle stretched around my shaft
quivering in protest as Damien reamed himself on me. Our eyes locked for a moment and I was hoping he could read my
evil intent in them.
He
laughed - he did see the look after all.
"You want to kill me, don't you?" he asked, slamming his
delicious bottom onto me with all the force he could muster. "You want to rip my throat out and
watch me bleed to death, huh? Want to
tear my heart out and eat it..."
What
the fuck was this all about? Damien was
rambling, riding my stiffness harder and faster. I watched in horrified fascination as his uncircumcised cock,
once dormant, began to stir, the monstrous head sliding out from beneath
glistening foreskin. I felt like a deer
caught in a car's headlights; that fucker was growing larger by the second and
I just couldn't look away. I wanted to
see what he fucked me with - and wished I hadn't. Christ, that freakish thing was bigger than I first thought! The head, now fully exposed, was the size of
a silver dollar, tapering down to a thickly veined shaft which was surprisingly
smaller than mine. But, those eleven
inches had me captivated as Damien continued to ride me, one hand racing along
that incredible length of cock.
Damien's
ramblings increased and I could feel one hellacious load building inside of me
and I braced myself. My cock, worked
raw from the friction of being inside of Damien, began to swell. And I mean swell. I thought my skin was going to split inside of him and I was now
so hard it hurt.
He
felt it, too, because his eyes went wide in surprise, his hand a blur as he
spanked his monster meat while grinding my cock into him as far as it would
go. I felt an instant of calm - just
before the most intense orgasm I'd ever experienced ripped through me. It felt as if someone had reached inside of
me, grabbed my guts, and pulled.
Hard. The room began to grow
dark and I could barely hear my own breathing over the pounding of my heart. One long, continuous blast of juice blasted
Damien's guts and I felt as if I were a high pressure hose with no off
switch. As I continued to gush inside
of him, Damien came in equally long spurts, his seed splattering me from head
to chest. He was yelling something but
I couldn't hear him - it was just too damned dark...
Seven
I
don't know how long I was out. I woke
with a start, completely alert and in control of my faculties. I took stock of my situation. I felt good, as if I'd never had one drop of
wine; however, my ass hurt like a son of a bitch and I was one sticky
mess. Looking to my right, I spotted
Damien who was equally messy. He lay on
his side, his flaccid member still looking impressive. I interrupted my admiration of his cock,
realizing something very important.
This
motherfucker had drugged and seduced me.
I could feel the anger, fresh and hot - oh, he has to pay for this! Looking around, I found my clothes and
watch. I grabbed the timepiece, trying
to focus on the tiny dial - and dropped the watch once I did. I staggered back a little: Two hours. This whole thing only took two fucking
hours! How can that be? I had felt as if he had been at me all
fucking day instead of the two hours my watch was telling me. My hands shook as I picked up the watch,
holding it to my ear. Sure enough, it
was ticking. Two hours! Hurriedly, I looked around the room and found
one of those new digital alarm clocks which had the audacity to have the same
time my watch did. Two hours.
I
shook my head, clearing my thoughts.
The time notwithstanding, I needed to get even with this motherfucker. Making sure he was still asleep, I ducked
into the bathroom to wash the stickiness and very musky smell from me; it was
like I couldn't get clean enough.
Finished with my task, I quietly reentered the bedroom and got dressed,
all the while never taking my eyes off of Damien's dozing form. Once, he stirred and I froze; when I saw no
further movement, I relaxed and began a search of the room.
Silently,
I went through his belongings until I came upon several pairs of handcuffs in a
bottom drawer. Pulling them out, I
examined them, confirming these were the real thing, like the cops use, you
know, with the short length of chain? I
looked back toward the bed, noticing the bright, silver rings draped over the
headboard. The rings were attached to
thick leather straps which themselves were firmly attached to the bed's
frame. A quick search at the foot of
the bed found the same arrangement. An
idea began to form in my mind...
Several
minutes later, I woke Damien with a resounding slap to his face. He came awake instantly - and pissed off.
"Who? What?
Hey! What the fuck did you hit
me for?" he growled.
"Pay
backs are a bitch, aren't they?" I asked calmly. I could see Damien's face grow dark with anger.
"Why,
you little bastard..." he began.
Damien tried to sit up - only to find himself hauled short by the
handcuffs adorning his wrists and ankles.
I laughed as a stream of vile curses flowed from Damien.
"Give
me the keys, you little shit!" Damien swore lustily as he struggled against
the unrelenting stainless steel bracelets.
"Give to me or I'll..."
"You'll
what, bitch?" I dangled the four
sets of keys I'd found in the drawer with the cuffs. "I don't think you'll be doing anything for a while,
motherfucker." Pocketing the keys,
I went over to where Damien's clothes laid piled on the floor and rifled his
pockets, looking for other keys. Didn't
find them, but I did find a moderate sum of cash, which I stuck in my pocket
with the keys.
"Hey! Put that back! That's mine, you fucker!"
"It
was," I said, pleased with myself.
"After what you did to me, you're lucky I don't kill you. This," I said, patting my pocket,
"should cover things nicely."
I turned towards the front door.
"You
can't leave me like this! These are
real handcuffs, you idiot! Not those
fake ones! I can't get loose!"
"Exactly,"
I said, passing through the door and closing it behind me, Damien's curses now
muffled by the door. As I made my way
home, I knew there would be a lot of things I'd have to get straight with
myself, vowing to never be so stupid again.
Epilogue
Years
have passed. I made it out of high
school with only one other incident (another story). A stint in the military and marriage followed and the only time I
played hooky from school was a distant memory.
Until we moved into a certain neighborhood. At first, I didn't pay any attention to my surroundings, being
too busy unloading stuff. However, I
took a break a few minutes later and, as I took a drag off my cigarette, I
noticed this area looked awfully familiar.
I
wracked my brain trying to remember why this place looked so familiar! I mean, the answer was right there and I
almost had it when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.
"Excuse
me, do you have a light?"
Without
turning, I said, "Sure. Wait a
minute." Reaching into my pocket,
I pulled out my lighter and turned to give the guy a light - and froze in
place. I hadn't recognized the voice,
but there was no mistaking the face, even after all these years: Damien!
Older, less hair and all that, but it was him!
Damien
got his smoke lit and lifted his head, taking a long drag. When our eyes met, his mouth remained open,
curly wisps of smoke wafting in the breeze.
His eyes narrowed and I could actually see his mind working as he sought
to identify me. Frustration clouded his
eyes and he finally spoke.
"I
know you, don't I?" His hands
trembled slightly and the final piece fell into place for me. Peeking from under the sleeves of his shirt,
his wrists bore identical markings a sure sign they had been very badly bruised
to the point where the marks had become permanent.
Frankly,
I had forgotten all about him after I left his place, more worried about my
mother beating my ass for bagging school.
Seeing the marks left from his obvious struggle with those handcuffs
brought things into focus.
"Yes,
as a matter of fact, you do," I confirmed.
"Did
we go to school together? No, that
can't be it, you're obviously younger than I am." I was taking a great deal of pleasure from
his confusion as he walked around me, trying to shake the dust from his
memories. And I wasn't about to help
him, either.
After
a few minutes, he finally gave up.
"Man, I don't know why I remember you, but you do look familiar."
I
was tired of the game being played on my part, so I gave him a hint. Face as deadpan as I could get it, I said a
single word: "Click." And pointed at his wrists. The results were electric! Recoiling as if I'd shoved a cattle prod up
his ass, Damien staggered backward a few steps, his cigarette falling from his
fingers.
"YOU!"
he rasped. "Now I remember
you!"
"I'm
flattered," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Damien
took another step back. "You left
me cuffed to my own bed. Took the phone
off the hook and locked down everything - you even robbed me."
"No
worse than what you did to me," I replied, surprised at the amount of calm
I was feeling. Then again, I had tamed
the beast my romp with Damien had created so the memory of that day no longer
bothered me. "By the way," I
began. "How did you get
loose?" Damien's voice was small and weak as he answered.
"I
was on that bed for a couple of days before somebody finally came along and
freed me. I kept hoping you'd come back
and cut me loose, but you never did."
"Like,
you really expected me to?" I shot back.
"You're lucky I didn't kill you."
"You
don't know what it was like, lying there helpless, unable to move. No food, no water, lying in my own shit and
piss. I was about to go crazy..." A pang of guilt hit me as I imagined his
suffering, realizing he could have died.
Shit, I had figured someone would have came along much sooner and gotten
him free, one reason why I never bothered to check.
"Oh,
well," I said. "Sorry about
that, but you did some pretty rotten shit to me back then. It was a long time before I could get over
it." I was about to say more, but
my wife was calling me inside to give her a hand with something. When I turned back from answering her,
Damien was gone; my last glimpse of him was the brightly colored shirt he was
wearing disappearing behind the apartment building's entrance. Shrugging, I picked up the box at my feet
and went inside, thinking about how small the world can be.
"Who
was that, honey?" my wife asked.
"Friend of yours?"
"Nah,
just somebody I ran into a long time ago.
Hadn't seen him in years; shit, I'm surprised he's still hanging around
here." Picking up the box, I went
into the bedroom, placing it next to the dresser. Turning to leave, my eye caught the glitter of sunlight off
metal and, curious, I reached into the clutter of the dresser's top. I got a grip on the object and pulled it
out, a smile spreading across my face.
It
was a set of handcuff keys...
Finis
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