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HOOKY split inside him and


This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written
permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this
notice attached. The author may be contacted at
Copyright 1998, Robert B. Morton II, all rights reserved.


For those individual 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


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


"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.


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.

"," 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!


"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

"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.


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.


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.T 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

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...


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.


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...



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