Gone Black - Chapter Eight - Hallo-weenie, Hallo-heine.

Gone Black - Chapter Eight - Hallo-weenie, Hallo-heine.

* This story is fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or living persons is coincidental.
Personal experiences, from images to events, memories and words, flavor my writing, and while elements of this story may be (and often are) based in fact, the characters are entirely fictional.

* Unprotected sex is depicted. In real life, be safe! Don't gamble.

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GONE BLACK

By Colton Aalto

CHAPTER 8 – HALLO-WEENIE, HALLO-HEINIE

D'Marcus and I were on our daily lunch date, at a stall in the deserted high school restroom next to the basketball court, and the muscle teen was in his usual Friday form, which is to say boned and brutal. I hadn't licked his massive schlong for long before it morphed into a full, glorious erection. Damn did I ever love seeing his hard teen meat when it was wet. His skin was stretched over his rod so tightly that it looked like it would break. However, I didn't get to enjoy the sight for long before he grabbed my head and rammed his shaft down my throat with a violent thrust. I'd have a sore throat for days, and not because of a cold or the flu. He quickly ramped up the pace until he was delivering a particularly thorough face bashing, ramming his beer-can cock down my throat until my eyes watered and I feared I'd suffocate.

He was worse than normal on Fridays, because he treated our hookups as something of a warmup for his Friday night football games. I think he sorta pictured me as a quarterback he was intent on destroying. And, of course... I loved it. My dick was rock hard and precumming like crazy. What else was new?

Fridays were hands-down my favorite day of the school week. I got D'Marcus at his best – hyped in anticipation of crushing defenseless high school boys on the football field – and in addition to slurping down my usual school lunch of a thick serving of his teen cum, I got Jeron at his best too. The thin black baller was extra horny on Friday nights because I hadn't serviced his black rod during the week, and he'd take it out on my ass and mouth. Sure I liked weekend days when school was out and Jason and I hung out and played ball, but the double drilling I took on Fridays was hard to beat.

As he ground his thick pole down my throat, D'Marcus snarled, "Who's your daddy, cum dump?" I was in no position to say anything, although the football jock didn't expect an answer. If he wanted an answer to one of his questions, he answered it himself.

He was panting heavily, holding my head by my long hair and thrusting his fuck stick down my throat frantically. I knew he was close. Sure enough, soon the first volley of hot jizz rifled from his black snake. He growled, "Fuck yeah, eat my cum! Swallow it, bitch!" He slammed his cock all the way down my throat and held my head in his crotch as wave after wave of thick ball juice fired from his pulsing tool. My nose was crushed in his pubes, giving me a heady whiff of his teen musk, and luckily I'd taken a deep breath before he shot, so I didn't pass out when his fuck stick cut off my air. Damn did I ever love the taste of his splooge.

The muscle teen finished firing cum rockets and followed his usual routine – pulling his slimy, beer-can tool from my mouth, slapping my face a couple of times with it, stuffing it back into his pants, sneering at me, calling me his bitch boy, and splitting without a thank you or a goodbye. I always took more time to depart, mainly to will my cock to soften so it wouldn't look ridiculous if I happened to run into someone in the hallway. It was either that or jack off.

Lately I'd been succumbing to the temptation to whack out a load more often, but today D'Marcus had been late and taken longer than normal, so I was out of time and had to get to class. Instead of jerking my dick and relieving my balls, I did the best I could to make my boner less noticeable. Still swallowing spunk and wiping dick slime off my face, I emerged from the stall and stopped in my tracks. Keon was sitting on one of the bathroom sinks with a big shit-eating grin on his face.

Since the night of the gangbang before Labor Day, I'd seen the skinny twink with D'Marcus several times. They were related – distant cousins or something like that – but aside from their black skin they didn't look at all alike. Keon was a thin rail while D'Marcus was a mountain of muscle.

Keon's claim to fame was that he was some kind of a child genius. He'd been charged with tutoring D'Marcus to keep him in school and, most important, keep him eligible to play football. The kid had his work cut out for him. D'Marcus cared only about football and getting his rocks off. He viewed school as an unnecessary annoyance, not contributing to either of the things he wanted. In some sense, Keon and I had a considerable amount in common. He made sure D'Marcus got passing grades so he could stay on the team, and I made sure he didn't get kicked off the team for assaulting some poor girl. Or guy. He'd had those problems before, but a football coach always got him out of trouble. This year, the coaches mistakenly concluded he'd cleaned up his act. Maybe he had. Dumping his teen cum inside me twice a day was better than running the risk of being accused of assault.

I felt my face flush. Keon had to know what D'Marcus and I'd been doing. I hadn't heard anyone come into the john as I blew the muscle teen but I confess I'd relaxed over the ten weeks I'd been going down on him and gotten sloppy. I wasn't as careful as I should have been. D'Marcus had been loud today, too. Lately he'd been growling, "Suck it, slut! Suck that big black bone and swallow my black nut. Who's your daddy, bitch?" At least I hadn't followed through on what I'd been tempted to do – jack off a load while still tasting and smelling his thick ball juice.

Keon smirked. "I thought I'd find you here, Collins. How's the liquid diet coming along? Getting plenty of protein?"

I didn't respond. I was unnerved about not having heard him come into the john, and I wondered how much he knew about the daily blow jobs I was delivering to D'Marcus, not to mention surrendering my ass to him every day after football practice. Fuck. Not only did Keon spend hours tutoring the football jock, they were related and D'Marcus had shown no inclination to keep the fact he was using me as a cum dump secret from anyone in his family, except his mom. Keon had to know everything. How else would he know where to find me at lunch?

"So it is true, Collins, that the first day of school the football coaches asked D'Marcus what he wanted and he said your holes? Both your pretty mouth and your tight white ass. He's football royalty you know, and they give him anything he wants. I guess he picked you out of the entire student body as the hottest property on campus – a senior, the tall, white star of the basketball team. Pretty awesome. Did the coaches tell you that you had a new daddy – a black boy – or did you figure that out by yourself?"

I glared at the dude but in the back of my mind I was sorta flattered that he'd characterized me as the hottest property on campus. Well, maybe only the hottest bottom boy.

The skinny black nerd waved his hand. "No matter. It turns out I have need of a cock whore for my Halloween party. A boy with experience sucking dick and getting fucked up the ass. Any idea where I can get one? Race not important. I'll take a white dude if I have to, as long as he sucks black bones and swallows black nut. Being a jock might be a plus. From what I remember jock boi pussy is quite a delicacy." He groped his crotch.

I stayed silent, my jaws clenched, anticipating what he was about to tell me.

"Too bad you're overqualified. Totally overqualified. But you've gone black and we all know white boys never go back after that, and since you're so hungry for black cock and you're free tomorrow night, I guess I'll give you the assignment. I'd say you might even be perfect for the role."

I didn't have Halloween plans. As usual Jason had a hookup planned, so I wouldn't be hanging with him. However, I wasn't about to admit to the geeky freshman that I didn't have something to do. "I'm not free," I growled.

"My mistake! Terribly sorry old chap. But, um... just to clarify, are you saying your cock-whore services aren't free or your schedule isn't free? After your little show before Labor Day, it's painfully obvious your mouth and your ass are free for the asking. You gave it away to anybody who could get it up. I sure enjoyed your holes that night. D'Marcus did too. Still does from what he tells me. Was that him I just saw leaving?"

I glared at the jerk.

"Oh, wait! You must have meant your services are free but you're not free on Halloween. Prior commitment? Does it involve taking black cocks in both holes? Well, no matter. I just changed your schedule. Your night is planned."

He was on a roll so I didn't try to stop him.

"You see, we always play `Pin the Tail on the Donkey' at my Halloween party but this year we're gonna have a new game, called `Stick your Prick in the Ass.' Get it? Donkey? Ass? The objective of the game is the same. Nailing the donkey. In this new version everyone is a winner, except maybe the donkey. Although the donkey is such a slut that he'll probably think he's the big winner.

"Maybe we'll play `Heads and Tails' along with `Stick your Prick in the Ass.' I love that one. Flip a coin and if it's heads, the donkey gives you head, and if it's tails, you get the donkey's tail. Or maybe we'll play `Bobbing for Dick' instead of `Bobbing for Apples.' While the donkey's ass is getting plowed, it's mouth bobs up and down on stiff cocks. Instead of apple juice, it's gonna be gagging on ball juice. Whaddaya say? Sounds like something right up your alley, pun intended. Is your cock alley still as tight as it was before Labor Day? Or have you taken black dick so often that's it's stretched too wide and ruined? Prolly not, because D'Marcus is still happy boning your butt. I gotta say, I'm impressed that you've kept him happy for over two months. Not an easy assignment!"

"I told you I'm busy."

His cheerful mood evaporated and he hopped off the sink and faced me, his face angry. I was almost a foot taller than he was and I had muscles while the dweeb was a bag of skin and bones, so I was tempted to wad the fucker up and throw him into the trash can. But something held me back and I let him continue.

"Yeah, you'll be busy all right, but you'll be busy doing what I tell you to do. I told you I changed your schedule. What don't you understand about that, you dumb jock?"

"Stop babbling and get the fuck out of here."

He gave me an evil smile. "You know... your dad seems like a nice guy. I see him in your building all the time. How did he react when he found out his son is the biggest faggot slut in town? He worry about the bros knowing they can get off in your holes anytime they want? He worry about his son coming home with a ripped asshole?

I clenched my jaws at the mention of my dad. I was a second away from pummeling the geek, but he upped the ante. "Maybe he likes watching. We could send him a little video of his slut son with both holes filled with black dick. D'Marcus and Deandre won't mind if I film it. Wouldn't show their faces, of course, just yours. Just your red lips wrapped around a black pole, a black rod jammed in your ass, and your pretty blue eyes, showing how much you love it."

He didn't let me contemplate that disaster long before tossing out another stomach-turning thought. "You know, it just occurred to me. Maybe being a slut ho desperate for black cock runs in the family. Is he just like you? Like father, like son? Maybe he'd get into a little father-son togetherness, both of you hosting big black cocks."

He'd gone too far and I'd had enough. Clenching my fists, I growled, "Leave him out of this, asshole."

He was silent for a long second, but I sensed that he knew he was on shaky ground. He finally nodded. "Okay, he's off limits."

He took a breath and paused. "But you're not. I hafta admit, I never thought a dude could take as much dick and still walk as you did that night before Labor Day. I bet you didn't eat for a week after swallowing all that nut. We both know what you are. A cock whore. A cum slut. Not just any cock whore and cum slut, but one who's addicted to black cock. Black dick is what you want, isn't it? They say after a white boy goes black he never goes back, and you never will, will you?"

I didn't respond. He smiled. "No, you won't. Did you know D'Marcus talks a lot when I'm tutoring him? He'd much rather talk about football and fucking than study for class. He says he's got you trained to open your holes whenever he looks at you. Open mouth, insert cock. Open ass, insert cock. Juice both holes. I heard him say he's your daddy! Your real dad know about that?"

My hands were balled into fists, and I barely resisted the urge to pound the nerd into the ground. But he had me. I wasn't ready to confront my dad with my sexual orientation, let alone have him find out about my wilder escapades. For that matter, even my milder ones. I didn't really know Keon since he was only a freshman, but I feared the fucker would indeed say something to him.

Keon read me and gave me a cocky smile. "I'm glad we understand each other. Thanks for changing your schedule."

He pranced toward the bathroom door and reached it, but before opening it he paused and turned around, his smile fading. He chewed his lip for a moment, then exhaled. "I'm not an asshole, despite what you may think based on everything I just said. I'm not gonna tell your dad anything. If the shoe were on the other foot, I wouldn't want anyone saying anything to my dad. So forget it." He looked sad but turned toward the door.

It was my time to change my mind. I appreciated Keon backing off his threat. The kid was okay. A Halloween sex party actually sounded hot. My only reservation was that he was a geeky freshman and his party likely would be populated by more of the same. I wasn't keen on sucking off kids and letting them fuck me in the ass. However, a stiff black shaft was a still a stiff black shaft. You couldn't tell how old a dude was merely by looking at his dick, and I had nothing better to do on Halloween.

"Wait."

Keon turned back with a puzzled frown.

I knew what would happen if I didn't do his party. I'd sit around all night watching porn, imagining what Jason was doing. Imaging his awesome muscles covered with sweat as he boned some hot babe, lucky stud or both. Imagining him sliding his mammoth manhood into a bitch's cunt or a dude's ass. Wondering how many times he'd climax. All of that would get me horny and leave me frustrated. Even if Jeron bred me like he did every Saturday, I'd still be ready for more. My only hesitation about the party was Keon's and his guests' age, but fuck, a boner was a boner. I made a snap decision.

"I'll change my schedule."

Keon's face brightened. "Really?"

I was committed. "Yeah. You owe me one. Just tell your friends that you blackmailed me or bought me at a charity slave auction or something." I don't know why I cared about what a bunch of dweeby freshmen thought.

"That's great! Thanks! I really appreciate it. I'll swing by your dad's place on Halloween, around 6:00. The party doesn't start until later, but before the guests arrive I wanna make sure everything is set up." He gave me a smirk and added, "Including... the entertainment." He smiled big as he slipped out of the restroom. I'd made two black boys happy in the john. I was left wondering what I'd gotten myself into.

I halfway forgot about Keon. I had a busy afternoon and when I showed up at my dad's apartment that evening Jeron hauled me into the park as usual, bent me over the picnic bench and pumped a couple of juicy loads into my holes. Three actually. Like I said, he was extra horny on Fridays because he didn't have my ass and mouth to abuse all week. He'd taken to fucking my butt twice on Fridays, but I was fine with that because I wasn't taking D'Marcus' load those days – the football team had Friday night games so I didn't drive D'Marcus home after school. I would have given him a ride home – and a ride in my ass – after the football game but so far he hadn't asked because one of his half-brothers usually took him home.

On Saturday I didn't think much about Keon or the Halloween party because Jason and I played a lot of ball and when I got back to my dad's apartment Jeron was waiting for me as usual and dumped loads in each hole. When 6:00 came and went, I was relieved, thinking the damn party had been a joke. I was sorta disappointed too, because the idea of getting another cock or two on top of Jeron's didn't sound bad, particularly after Jason spent a good part of the day telling me about his latest date and describing in graphic terms exactly what he liked doing to her and how much she liked his bone. I couldn't help but visualize his black monster in action and recall what it looked like puncturing Luke's pale ass. That was a vision I would never forget.

As it turned out, the party wasn't a joke. Keon showed up late, dressed as a vintage Robin from Batman & Robin. Black mask, yellow cape, belted red vest, green T-shirt, green Speedo and green gloves. His skinny legs were bare, like the original, vintage Robin rather than the newer versions. I always wondered how a character invented in the 1940s could dress as blatantly gay as Robin. I mean, come on! Bare legs, tight T-shirt and snug briefs that were the precursor of a Speedo? And as for living in the Wayne Manor with Bruce Wayne – the Dark Knight – I mean, really! The bat had to banging Robin's boy butt, shoving his tool where the sun doesn't shine, dumping loads of bat juice deep inside the Boy Wonder. Alfred might even have been pumping the Robin's boi hole. No wonder the Joker was so jealous of Batman!

Keon shook his head when he saw me. "No, no, no, NO... You need to be in costume, white boy. Take those clothes off. Your costume is a jock strap. I brought the rest." He held up a bow tie and a black leather hood that had holes for the eyes, mouth and nose but otherwise was like an execution hood.

I hesitated, wondering if the dweeb was kidding, but he growled, "Clothes off now, slut!"

Running around in nothing but a jock strap would normally have been a disaster, but it was Halloween so almost anything could be excused. The mask would give me some anonymity, although there weren't many 6'5" white dudes in the hood. Keon continued to glare, so I retreated to my bedroom to doff my clothes. He followed, which annoyed me, but I was used to changing in front of other dudes in locker rooms so I didn't think too much of it. My dad would be home any minute and I didn't want to chance Keon meeting him.

Keon wasn't satisfied with my jock strap, which was a plain white athletic supporter. "Don't you have like a red one or a black one?" I had a black one, but he didn't wait for me to answer, instead rifling through my clothes drawer. I was pissed but didn't do anything to stop him.

I should have. He found the black jock but, with a happy smile, passed over it when he discovered the red harness and lace singlet Randol had given me the week before. I'd buried it at the bottom of the drawer, never expecting to wear it again. I should have thrown the damn thing away, although in the back of my mind I had a silly fantasy that Randol might call me up and tell me to show up wearing it.

"This is perfect, slut!"

I objected, but Keon wouldn't take no for an answer and I finally relented so we could get the hell out of the apartment before my dad appeared. Keon had a huge, shit-eating smile on his face as I slithered into the harness and singlet. He threw me the hood and said, "Hold that while I attach your collar."

He hadn't mentioned a collar, but he produced a studded leather one and locked it into place. It was eerily like the collar Randol had put on me less than a week before. Being collared, with a bare butt and my junk imprisoned in an embarrassing, skimpy red outfit was becoming a pattern.

The collar fit beneath the bow tie, but the two together looked ridiculous. A big ring dangled from the front of the collar and a chain was attached to it. I was beginning to have second thoughts about the whole escapade, but Keon forestalled those by pulling out a pair of handcuffs and quickly snapping them around my wrists, trapping my arms behind my back. "What the fuck!!?" I exclaimed.

"Watch your mouth, white boy. It's all part of your costume. But I can see you need to relax a little." He grabbed a small flask and poured the contents down my throat. Tequila. There had to have been at least half a dozen shots in the flask. My throat burned, but it was particularly bad given the torture it had taken from D'Marcus' and Jeron's fuck sticks over the last two days.

That wasn't all. The black twink had a fat joint that he lit and held to my lips. We killed the weed quickly and by the time I'd taken the last puff, my head was already spinning. Keon was apparently used to covering his tracks. He flushed the tiny remnant of the joint down the toilet, although I wondered if my dad would smell marijuana when he returned. Maybe not. Because the night was warm, I'd opened all the windows.

Keon gave me a satisfied smile. "There's one final piece to your costume." Before I knew what he was doing, he pulled the singlet aside and grabbed my junk. I watched dumbfounded as he closed his small hand around my ball sac. Handcuffed, I couldn't have stopped him even if I hadn't been drunk and stoned. "Be a good boy and stand still or I'll have to crush these balls, and I hate to see big boys cry." I glared at the fucker in disbelief but was helpless to resist as he produced a small metal cylinder, fitted it around my cock, and locked it shut. He smirked at me in triumph, dangling three small keys in front of me.

"That, my boy is called a cock cage and it imprisons your junk and keeps you from getting hard. And, if it isn't obvious to your tiny jock brain, it keeps you from cumming. Wouldn't want our cock whore to embarrass himself with a little spontaneous eruption tonight, would we? This is a little insurance policy to keep you horny all night and, of course, easy to control. You're gonna behave yourself and do exactly what I say. And if you fuck up... well, these keys just might get lost. I'll unlock the handcuffs at the end of the night, but if you screw up, you're gonna have to explain to your dad why you're collared like a whore. I suppose to the basketball team too. And as for that cock cage... let's say it will drive you absolutely fucking crazy. You won't be able to think of anything but getting off, and you won't be able to do it. You want these keys, boy."

As it was I thought of little other than basketball and getting off, but the threat of not being able to knock off a load when necessary – or even convenient – was chilling. Fuck. Once again I wondered how I got myself into this position. I'd volunteered to do this fucking party! I was screwed.

The costume wasn't my only problem. My damn cock was excited about the cock cage and the collar. Hell, it was excited about Keon telling me what to do and dressing me like a sex slave. It began pressing against the cage, demanding release. If Keon noticed, he didn't let on. Instead, he stuffed the cage into the pouch of the red singlet. "Get on your knees, jock boy."

Handcuffed, drunk, stoned and caged, I wasn't in a favorable spot to negotiate. Plus my dad could show up at any time, which made it an easy call to give Keon whatever he wanted so we could get out of the apartment. I dropped to my knees, although being handcuffed didn't make it easy.

What he wanted was a blow job. I watched him pull his schlong from his green Speedo. It was already getting hard. "You know what to do with this, slut."

I knew from the night before Labor Day that blowing the kid was a challenge. His cock was like a steel rod and had a wicked curve that arched into his bellybutton. From your knees, his cock was completely in the wrong position to deep throat. You had to do it from the other direction, on top of him.

I gamely licked his shaft as it turned impossibly hard. I got the head of it in my mouth but not the rest. The angle was wrong. He figured that out after a while and dropped to the floor. I crawled on top of him so I could swallow his pole, then began sucking and working it.

The position we were in meant that my singlet was in Keon's face. He wasn't interested in my caged meat. He was, however, interested in my bare ass, and he quickly slid one of his thin fingers inside me, poking at my prostate. He gradually added fingers, stretching my hole. I didn't mind. It kinda felt good and if Keon indeed had planned a Halloween fuckfest, loosening my ass might not be a bad idea. Jeron had ripped into it a couple hours ago, so Keon had to be his fingers coated with ball juice.

Sucking dick with my hands cuffed behind me was a challenge. As I worked his tool down my throat, I wondered if I was the only person to have sucked his cock. He was a damn freshman. The chances were even better that my ass was the only fuck hole, male or female, he'd used. He began thrusting upward, flexing his skinny legs and shoving his scimitar down my throat.

I had barely started sucking when the kid shot. I think he surprised himself, because he gave no warning of being close until he squeaked, "I'm cumming!" His thin black rod shot buckets and I had to gulp repeatedly without taking a breath to keep up with the sperm flood. Even so some of it somehow got into my nose. Every time I thought he was done, he'd blast another spurt or two. Either he didn't get much sex or had been saving it up for like a week. I continued to nurse him slowly after his prick stopped firing.

Keon still had his fingers buried in my ass, which wasn't doing anything to keep my cock from protesting the cage. I was reduced to moans. He chuckled and continued to work my ass. "Glad to see your hot hole is as hungry as ever, jock boy. How's that cock cage feel?"

I didn't give him the satisfaction of confirming what he knew already –it felt like crap. It was probably the first time in my life that I'd had something stuffed in my ass and not been rock hard.

"Jock boy, I was afraid I might have to work to get your ass primed for cock, but I guess I shouldn't have worried. You're hot for it, aren't you?"

This time I moaned and affirmative, "Uh, huh."

Keon wanted to humiliate me some more. "Tell me exactly what you want boy. Spell it out. I wanna make sure I understand."

"I wanna get fucked."

"You... wanna get fucked?"

"Yes! I want a cock in my ass."

"A black cock?"

"Yes!!"

"Of course you do, Collins. You're a whore for cock. Black cock. And you're about to enjoy the best fucking Halloween – and the best Halloween fucking – that you've ever had." He pulled his fingers out of my hole and announced, "On your feet. We have a party to get to!"

I struggled up, feeling tipsy and sorta missing the feeling of being finger fucked. I still smelled Keon's spunk in my nose and probably would all night. Not that I was complaining. He got a wicked grin on his face and shoved his fingers into my mouth. Sure enough, they tasted of Jeron's jizz. I cleaned them off.

Satisfied with my work, Keon said, "Let's get out of here, cock whore."

With my brain slowed by dope and booze, I belatedly said, "Uh, I should put some clothes on over this. I mean, I'm practically naked."

"Why yes, jock boy, you are practically naked. That's quite an astute observation. But no, you don't need any other clothes. You're in costume, remember?"

"I'm not going outside wearing only this!"

His grin turned wicked. He held the keys up, dangling them. "I'm disappointed, jock boy. Very disappointed. I thought you were quick study, but I guess not. As to going outside wearing only what you have on, yes, that's exactly what's going down."

My stomach turned at the thought, but I was screwed. Keon didn't wait for an answer, pointing me toward the elevators and saying, "Cheer up! It's a mild night. I don't even think you'll get cold."

He pulled the leather hood over my head and we were in the elevator and halfway down when it dawned on me exactly how screwed I was. There was a good chance my dad would be home when I returned, and even if the night went perfectly and Keon unlocked the handcuffs, collar and cock cage, I'd have a helluva time explaining why I'd been to a Halloween party wearing nothing but a red harness and lace singlet.

TO BE CONTINUED...

My plan is to post chapters every two weeks, so stay tuned as Collins' wild senior year of high school continues. Feedback appreciated! Email me at ColtonAalto@gmail.com.

My other Nifty stories can be found in the author index (listed as Colton) using this link: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#colton. You can also locate them by searching for "Colton Aalto" using the Nifty Archive Search button, or by following this link: https://search.niftyarchives.org/?keywords=colton+aalto&sort=Relevance (I like this link better). I jump around in different Nifty categories, so you'll find a bit of everything. Enjoy!

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