By now you know this story is a combination of true and fictional events. The premise and the main characters are based on actual people and real places, but all the names have been changed. Literary liberties have been taken to make the story more interesting. Depicted are sexual situations involving underage boys which are sometimes extremely graphic. If you are under the age of 18, or the material is offensive to you or is illegal in your locale, read no further.

 

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In this chapter Connor is drawn further into his relationship with DeAndre. It's just a short "bridge" to what's ahead. Much more happens in the next chapter. Now, let's continue with the story.

 

Connor's Compulsion - Chapter 3 - Swimming into the Deep End

Monday morning. Connor's heart was thudding in apprehension as he rounded the corner in the hall, heading for his locker. He needed to make this quick: take everything he'd need for the day, and get the hell upstairs. He had no idea what DeAndre would do this morning.

He had just grabbed the last of his books when he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder. He turned to see DeAndre looking at him with a leering smile, his white teeth in stark contrast with the dark skin of his sweaty face. "Hey fag," the big black teen sneered, "Whassa matta? You `fraid I'm gonna beat yo skinny butt?" Connor stiffened and just stared back, wide-eyed and speechless. The wicked grin faded, and the intimidating teen took on a completely different tone, "Iss aiiight, we good. I tol you I wouldn' fuck wit you." Then he thrust a paper bag in Conner's hand, and said, "I got you some homework you need to do." And with that he turned and was gone. No beating. The slender blond boy sagged with relief and his tense shoulders relaxed.

"What homework?" he whispered to himself as he opened the bag and peered inside, "Holy shit!" In the bag was a huge black dildo. The thing was at least as big as DeAndre's dick, and maybe even a little thicker. In a panic he glanced up and down the hallway to see if anyone could have seen what had gone on, or worse somehow had impossibly caught a glimpse of the realistic-looking dildo. Connor wadded up the bag and stuffed it as far back in his locker as he could. "Fuck! What if somebody finds out about that thing?" he cursed.

All day Connor was a nervous wreck. He couldn't concentrate on any of his class work, but instead imagined his classmates discovering the fake cock and ridiculing him. The boy was totally distracted at lunch, prompting Evan to ask him if he was OK. Only later in the afternoon did he settle down enough to realize that the discovery of what was hidden in his locker was probably pretty remote. What finally dawned on him was what DeAndre had meant about "homework". He was supposed to use it to get his throat – and maybe his ass – ready for the real thing. It seemed naïve of him, but he hadn't really thought much about his deal with the black bully going any further than a few blowjobs. All he knew now was that he had to get the dildo out of the school and safely hidden in his room before another day passed. He would think about the sex stuff later.

On the way home in one of the much-maligned "short buses" used to shuttle the magnate school kids to his Middle School Connor held his backpack tightly to his chest, imagining crazy scenarios where the oversized black dildo somehow fell out for everyone to see. Evan, sitting next to him, asked, "What the hell's the matter with you? You've been acting weird all day."

"Nothing," came Connor's too-quick answer, "I mean I'm OK...well not really. I think I may have caught some kind of bug or something. My stomach feels funny, but I'll be all right. Maybe you shouldn't sit so close to me." Evan gave him a suspicious look, but then edged away from his friend a few inches.

"It's not weed in there, is it?" Evan whispered to Connor.

That seemed to break some of the tension, and Connor stifled a laugh, "No, Evan, It's not weed. Don't you think I would let you have some if it was?"

"Then why are you holding your backpack so close? What's in there?" Evan persisted.

Conner blushed, but couldn't think of anything to say that would shut Evan up. So he fell back on the always useful, "Fuck you." Evan shot him the finger and turned away to pout. The boys didn't speak to each other during the rest of the ride.

Finally back in his room Connor sat heavily on his bed and dropped his backpack beside him on the covers. He warily unzipped the top compartment, and almost as if he feared something alive inside, he reached in to retrieve the wrinkled paper bag DeAndre had handed him. The boy shook the bag, and the heavy black dildo flopped out onto the bed. It was bigger than he had first thought, veiny and wicked-looking. His hand seemed small as he reached around the middle of the thing. Lifting it to his nose he sniffed – the latex smell was strong, and from what he could tell, it was brand new. "Well, that's a relief," he sighed. Holding it low on its length Connor waved if languidly in front of his face. It looked realistic enough, but it didn't have the same feel as a real penis. It didn't have the looser skin covering the firm shaft underneath; but it was about the same size as DeAndre's cock – maybe a little thicker. "If I can get this down my throat DeAndre's dick will be no problem," he mused.

He started to lick it, but decided to take it into his bathroom to wash it off first. Soap and water didn't kill the latex odor, but it improved it some. While it was still wet he sat on the closed toilet and lifted the sinister-looking dildo to his lips. It had a slight chemical taste, nothing like the DeAndre's sweaty, salty dick. But, of course it wouldn't. When the black teen had pushed his cock deep into Connor's mouth the boy's gag reflex had kicked in, causing him to choke and heave.

"So this is my homework," the blond boy said aloud to himself, and with that he took the fake cock deeper into his mouth and sucked on it. Gently he pushed it a little deeper. "So far so good," he thought. When the fat plum-like head of it reached the opening to his throat Connor paused and then made an attempt to swallow it, pushing it further in at the same time. The slender blond kid tried to control his gagging by pushing the dildo deeper, but the reflex was too strong, and he had to pull it out of his mouth to cough and sputter, barely avoiding vomiting. "Fuck," he muttered to himself when he had recovered his breath, "No way this is gonna work."

When he went downstairs he found a note from his mom on the fridge: "I took a lasagna out of the freezer this morning. Cut off as much as you want and heat it in the microwave. Or if you can wait, we can eat together. I'll be home about 7." He decided that he'd wait, but grabbed a yogurt out of the refrigerator to tide him over.

After his snack he went back upstairs to do his real school homework, but he was having a hard time concentrating. Finally he gave up, and went to his favorite twink website. A search for deep throating brought up quite a few good videos. The one he liked best featured a pale, sort of Asian-looking older teen in a small swimming pool sucking a black guy who was sitting on the side of the pool. Somehow the slender young man was able to take the black dick all the way down his throat, and get his lips into the curly pubes at its base. In one scene the teen holds the hard black cock beside his head to show that it's longer than his whole head. Someone off-screen kept telling the cocksucker to pull all the way back, and then go down on the black dick to swallow the whole thing. The young guy never even gagged a bit. "Holy shit," Connor whispered, "How does he do that?"

By that time it wouldn't be long until his mother got home. After considering several possible places the boy decided to hide the dildo in a shoebox at the very back of the top shelf in his closet. It barely fit in the box. His mom almost never came up to his room, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He would have to continue the homework DeAndre had assigned at some other time.

 -  To be continued? Response has been very light so far. If you want this story to go on drop me a quick note. Poor

response spells a quick end to this series. You gotta sing for your supper...

 

Write me at hitcher2@keemail.me . Please don't use my old discontinued address "hitcher@mailnew.com"

Your opinions and suggestions will be very welcome. Dan Price