Casey's Last Year: Part 6

Casey's Last Year: Part 6

Casey's Final Year

Chapter 6

As I prepared to step out of the weight room, Jerome strolled in and approached me. He was attired in athletic gear, so I presumed he was there to lift weights.

Always a bit taciturn and lacking friendly demeanor, Jerome gruffly commented, "Your mother has invited you for dinner, but you're not to spend the night. She suggested a movie or game night would be nice."

"What day is this meant to occur?"

Jerome's expression remained blank for a few seconds before coming back to life. "Tonight. I'm taking the bus, so I can show you the way."

"Perhaps we could travel together."

"No. You must follow me to avoid getting lost. Don't arrive late for the bus. Bus stop is at the intersection of 5th and Garden, near the liquor store. 3:45... post-school."

I closed my eyes, counted to three, and exhaled. "Understood, Jerome. I'll see you then."

He didn't reply; his attention was focused on his barbells. I departed, showered, and was relaxing with a cigarette in an alcove behind the gym when the 4th period's bell rang.

Miss Popejoy's heels echoed loudly on the concrete walkways, foreshadowing her imminent approach. I exhaled just as she rounded the corner.

"Casey."

"Miss Popejoy."

"You're aware..."

"Yes... smoking in the school."

"So why do you persist?"

"You could punish me at any moment. Aren't you too busy tending to more studious students? Shouldn't you devote your time to them instead of wasting it on me?"

In an uncharacteristically candid moment, she conceded, "I want to help you but can't, because you stubbornly cling onto your cool, aloof, stubborn demeanor. I long to find a way to reach you, to help you capitalize on the tools available to aid your growth and escape the miserable predicament life has subjected you to."

"You don't have a clue about my predicament, my life, or who I am. As for the cool facade, it's not pretend, it's who I am." I stubbed out the cigarette and stood up. "I have matters to attend to, and I'm done with talking."

She stamped her foot in anger, causing her breasts to bounce beneath her silk blouse. "If you refuse to cooperate, if you persist in being a challenging student, so be it. However, if you need someone to talk to, I'm right here."

I disregarded her comment, instead turning away and leaving before she could muster a proper reply.

Upon hearing her voice, she shouted after me, "Tomorrow, one hour before school starts, my office."

Unperturbed, I waved my hand dismissively, letting her know I had heard.

I waited for Jerome's arrival, arriving a couple of minutes before the bus.

"My mother has errands to run today, making this a recurringbus travel day. We'll have time to practice knots before she returns."

"Sounds like a good plan."

"The ropes at home can be used..."

"I thought the same thing... that's why I didn't bring any myself."

We had to transfer buses once, and walk half a mile to his home.

Their abode was in a well-off neighborhood, likely monitored by an HOA to ensure that landscaping was pristine.

Jerome punched in a code on the side door, unafraid to hide his actions as we shared secrets.

Upon fetching us glasses of cold water, he guided me upstairs to his mother's room. In her closet, between other items, he revealed a collection of silk ropes. There were various colors, coiled and primed for use. Additionally, there were cuffs and a collar, a belt with cuffs, and a leather hood.

"I can't identify the purpose of most of these items, or why they're kept... I mean, the paddle at the bottom is for spanking, I comprehend that much, and the cuffs are for wrist restraint."

"Aversion to cuffs?"

"Mother makes me use them occasionally, but I prefer rope over cuffs."

"Then you're in for a treat... I can demonstrate a simple method for creating a set of rope cuffs."

Hey, Casey... that'd be great... I really don't fancy the glossy ones... they're chilly and occasionally they pinch.

I inquired, "Are these the only toys she has?"

"This is the only box I'm aware of..."

We made our way back down and took a seat on the living room floor. He displayed some of the straightforward knots he was familiar with. I was in the midst of instructing him on how to bind and entrap, elaborating on how it functions on the knees and elbows as well as the ankle, when his mother returned.

Long limbs, a trim waist, hefty bosoms, and a rather pretty face... all fashioned for a ravishing bondage encounter...

Jerome wasn't the most challenging pupil, but he was struggling with some aspects. His head was absorbed in concentrated study when she walked past us and into the kitchen. She'd disappeared from view before she reacted to what she believed she saw, then she retreated rapidly and inquired, "Jerome, what are you up to?" Her voice conveyed anxiety since she identified the silk rope and undoubtedly deduced what Jerome and I might be doing.

I stood up and in my most innocent voice, I greeted her with a hand extended, "Hello, Mrs. Robertson. I'm Casey, Jerome's friend from school."

She scrutinized me, stepped back once, and addressed Jerome, "Jerome! What are you doing?"

He was frowning in studying devotion when she vanished from sight. In a somewhat irritated manner, he replied, "Stop looking, Mom... it's a secret. I can't tell you."

I moved back and maintained a non-aggressive posture, "Mrs. Robertson, please, allow me to clarify... Jerome requested my assistance with something he's working on to offer to you... we could take a seat and let me elaborate..."

She wasn't fully convinced but, as Jerome's mother, she knew he was engrossed in his endeavors and would not offer any assistance or answers prior to completing whatever it was.

She peered at me, considered my height and smile, two qualities that frightened some individuals more than a glare... she inhaled deeply.

"Okay, just a moment to explain..."

She spun on her heels and perched upon a kitchen chair.

Previous to taking a seat, I advised Jerome, "Keep working on it and I'll return in a moment."

He grunted at me, a degree of acknowledgement greater than what she had received.

I was speaking as I sat down, my voice muffled... "Only a moment before I leave... if you wish. Initially, I'm Jerome's..."

"I'm aware... Casey, from school. The only individual he's ever referred to as 'his friend from school', hence the reason we're conversing... what exactly, did he inform you?"

"I hope you're more discreet than he is... since I'm privy to all that you do with him."

She stood, prepared to flee.

"Please sit down. I'm not here to extort you. I'm Jerome's pal, not your foe. I implore you not to inform Jerome of my knowledge, as right now, he trusts me, and if he finds out that I told you, he won't trust me and will jeopardize our relationship. Jerome can be volatile, occasionally, and I don't want him to attempt harming me or you."

"Jerome discusses you frequently... he claims that the two of you share many similarities. He's told me that he considers you his friend because you're the only individual who isn't afraid of him but is kind to him." She was hesitant, glancing at me. "However, that doesn't explain the cord."

"I'm helping him with a gift for your birthday."

"What?!"

I would have continued, but she rose abruptly, "Please sit down... I'll hear you out."

I placed a hand on her shoulder to halt her escape. "Just hold on... don't be hasty... no one else has come across this due to the fact no one would dare approach him with the approach I did. Everybody is far too terrified of your son to attempt it." She relaxed, resting her head in her hands.

She acknowledged having prior knowledge of 'Shibari' and proposed teaching Jerome something that might interest him. She blushed, sensing his excitement. Currently, Jerome's focus was on learning basic wraps and cuffs which he must master to progress. I, however, assured her that I wouldn't teach him anything harmful, as he was already dangerous enough. I planned to demonstrate a simple transition weave that resembled a medallion or rosette.

Intriguingly, I noticed her breathing alter, a notable shift despite her lack of awareness.

"I'll inform Jerome that I need to leave; I don't want to be the one to kick you out." I began to depart from the kitchen.

Jerome's mother intervened, "Wait... you... you don't have to go Casey. Allow him to continue with his project. We can enjoy dinner together afterward."

I reverted my course and aided Jerome further. Approximately fifteen minutes transpired, upon which Jerome shouted:

"Mom, can you lend a hand with this, I'm in the midst of experimenting."

Engaged in cooking, Mrs. Robertson answered, "What is it honey? I'm making dinner."

"I just require your assistance for a minute."

Obstinately, she retorted, "Jerome..." But upon hearing a distinct yearning in her son's voice, she revised her response and aligned beside him, her hair tousled from preparing dinner.

"Bend down and merge your arms in front of you," Jerome instructed her.

My intervention prevented her from objecting, adding, "He's learning a hitch to unite two poles, making them stronger. He attempted to perform it on me, but I can't assist due to the position of my limbs."

As soon as Jerome touched her skin with the rope, a shock waves rippled through her body. It wasn't a spasm; it was a brief jolt of electrical stimulus, underscoring the erotic impact.

During the tutorial, I delicately corrected Jerome's technique and refrained from touching her or the rope. Mrs. Robertson's bodily responses to this brief interaction were undeniable.

"See, Jerome? You can use this knot to link the 'poles' at a secondary place," I elaborated, awakening her emotions.

"I understand, Casey. We'll continue with this."

Mrs. Robertson was continually struggling to contain herself, battling to suppress her arousal in front of both of us.

"Jerome, untie me so I can check on the food. We can't take too long," She petitioned.

He debated refuting her, attempting to persuade her to permit further practice, but a mother's instinct surfaced within her. "Jerome, untie me now. I'll assist with your practice when dinner is complete and Casey leaves."

Jerome hesitated and inhaled several times, struggling to remain collected. Having achieved success, he had been invested in his work. Faced with the prospect of prematurely terminating his practice, he struggled to behave rationally. "Alright, mom. We'll practice later."

She exhibited weakness rising to her feet but overcame it, ultimately making her way to the kitchen. Having reached his objectives, I extracted the rope and employed it on Jerome's ankles, demonstrating the cuff knot. I encouraged him to perform the technique on his legs.

"You've mastered this, so practice hoisting it upward, first below your knees, then a second time above them."

Jerome was appreciative of this guidance. Harnessing previous successes, he concentrated on replicating the knot above his knees and succeeded twice. "Thanks, Casey... I actually enjoy this." Jerome halted his actions and looked at me. "Jerome, you'd like that too, right?" he pondered, then added, "I'd like that as well, after dinner."

He headed back to the ropes and I stood up, saying, "I'm going to check on your mom. See if she needs assistance with setting the table or something."

Fed up, Jerome just nodded in acknowledgment.

Jerome's mother was standing at the counter, facing the cabinets, her hands flat on the countertop, heavily breathing and verbally criticizing herself for her weakness.

I picked up a dish towel from a handle and walked up next to her. She noticed me and turned toward me, one hand clutching the front of her open shirt, the other hand outstretched as if warding me off.

She muttered incoherently, not forming complete sentences, taking half a step back for every two steps I took toward her. It was a perfunctory protest, weakly delivered, with no real intention behind it.

I moved swiftly but gently, ensuring no violence or malice, taking the extended hand by the wrist and placing the corner of the towel in it. "Hold onto this, don't let go." She was no longer resisting, showing signs of surrender. She offered her other hand to me, and I pulled her up, stopping her from crumpling to the floor. Her shirt was open, her lacy bra highlighting her large breasts.

I swiftly and carefully tied a figure eight with the towel, combining her wrists, went around it once more, and then, holding her hands aloft, threaded the running end through the handle of a cupboard door, securing it tightly in her grasp, ensuring she had full control over her bindings.

"Hold onto these... don't let go... understand?"

She nodded, then managed a few sighs, all laced with pleas.

"What about Jerome?"

"Jerome is busy, preoccupied..." I ran my hand along her sternum before cupping her throat. "You just have to be mindful that you don't make too much noise..." she nodded once more, her eyes wide, her nostrils flaring.

My hands explored, touching her in front and back. Squeezing her breasts, rubbing her already stiff nipples, caressing her toned stomach. I teased her with my fingertips at the edge of her underwear. She gulped, sighed, and moaned, her breaths full of anticipation. While one hand massaged her front, the other was in her hair, making her feel more controlled. She held the ends of the towel firmly, her knuckles white with effort to not release her grip.

I murmured in her ear, detailing how I was enjoying her, how she was such a wicked, naughty girl. She responded, contradicted, ran the gamut of emotions, yet grew more and more aroused. I squeezed her right breast harshly before giving her neck a gentle squeeze before dropping her hair. My free hand then roamed her back and pinched her ass cheeks. She encouraged my advances, raising her hips, spreading her legs more, and lifting her skirt, revealing more. I traced my fingertips across her skin, leaving faint red marks without drawing blood. Then, in one swift move, I yanked down her panties, leaving her bare-bottomed. She flinched, but soon regained her composure and pushed toward me, enticing with her hips. I dug my fingertips into her flesh, creating reddened lines but not breaking the skin. Then, moving quickly, I dropped her panties, leaving her ass exposed.

"Next time, I will make you spend hours on the edge, but tonight it will just be a small sampler," I slid my fingers into her wet opening twice to the second knuckle.

She struggled to be quiet, valiantly dancing while wiggling her ass, bouncing her breasts, and clenching her thighs. She had been aroused to the point of climax in a very short period. Throughout, she held the towel's ends tightly, keeping herself held captive while I touched her.

I licked her cum from one finger, then held the other finger to her lips for her to clean, effectively. I patted her ass and whispered, "After Jerome ties you up tonight, I want you to jerk him off. Don't make him touch you." I tightened my hand around her throat, silencing any impending protest. "Don't disappoint me. Obey my instructions." She nodded submissively. "Good girl. Now, let's get supper on the table." I flicked her still naked ass, causing a tiny squeal, not hard enough to disturb the other room.

Jerome was untying the ropes, quite proud of himself, and then gifted his brother with great enthusiasm, "I managed to succeed, just like you showed me!"

"Awesome, Jerome. Your mother says it'll be a few more minutes, show me again."

He moved slowly and deliberately, confident in his actions. I praised his dedication and superb performance, then we went into the kitchen where Jerome, the person who hates physical contact, put his hand on my shoulder, and cheerfully declared, "I hope you cooked plenty of food... my friend and I, we've worked up quite an appetite."

Dinner was a bit uncomfortable... not that Jerome noticed. He was too passionate and nearly revealed his surprise several times due to his enthusiasm. Normally, his mother would have caught on, but she was preoccupied. She attempted to engage with Jerome in his excitement, but then she would feel guilty, causing her to avoid eye contact with me. At other moments, she couldn't stop staring at me, pleading with her, presumably, typically effective, puppy dog eyes, asking me for reassurance that there would be more to come later.

True to his word, Jerome and I had several servings each, while his mother, an excellent chef, picked at her plate.

"Mom! This was so delicious!" Jerome pushed his plate away.

His mother was staring at me as I shoveled the final bites into my mouth.

"Mom... mom!"

He jolted her out of her daze.

"I'm sorry Jerome... I was just thinking about how unfair I've been to Casey, having him leave tonight... I'm sure we could..."

"Thanks," I said, "that's a kind gesture, but really, I..."

"Yes! Hear that Casey? You can stay!"

Jerome was ecstatic, which was unusual for him.

Jerome's mother was playing with fire... she was allowing her desire, her passion, her addiction to control her better judgment... but she had always done that whenever she used Jerome for her own pleasure.

"You're right Jerome... good news." I stood up from the table and said, "Excuse me... I need to use the bathroom." If my eyes were laser beams, her head would have exploded. Mrs. Robertson couldn't maintain eye contact but didn't regret her decision.

I left the table and heard her tell Jerome, "Sweetheart, help me with the dishes tonight while I go prepare a place for your friend to sleep tonight."

"But mom... he can sleep in my room..."

"Jerome, honey, two grown men sharing a room? In my house? Absolutely not. We have a guest room, and I won't have anyone sleeping on the floor."

"But mom..."

"Don't argue with your mother, boy! Clear the table and then wash the dishes. I'll be back to help before you're done."

"Yes, mom."

It was far from an ideal situation to confront Jerome's mother in a tiny, hollow-doored bathroom, but it was all I had.

"Casey?" she whispered as she opened the door.

Before another utterance came out of her lips, I pulled the door open and cupped her mouth, drawing her into the room. The door closed quickly, resulting in a forceful slam. But I had to deal with the most important person at the moment.

She had undone her blouse and unbuttoned it on her way down the hallway, indicating that she believed Jerome would be busy shortly or didn't care.

"What the hell are you up to!" I snarled. Her shoulders hit the wall, and her eyes widened in shock. "I've already made it clear that I won't be spending the night, you manipulative bitch."

The eyes, windows to the soul, revealed her perplexity. She was used to men doing whatever they could to please her, to grant her whatever she wanted, hoping for a small taste of what they desired in return. She was not accustomed to dealing with someone not obsessed with sex. This threw her off her game. Her body was telling her that I could provide what she yearned for, but her mind was telling her that I would not cooperate.

"No! Don't talk... listen, you damned prostitute!" When I called her a cunt, her spine stiffened, but her knees weakened. When I called her stupid her eyebrows furrowed, but her pelvis ground grind against me. When I called her a slut, her hands stopped pushing against me and grasped my ass, pushing her pelvis against me. When I felt her submit and engage, and her expression soften, I knew she realized she wasn't dealing with a typical suitor. Her forehead creased as she tried to breathe more deeply. I held my hand over her mouth and clamped her jaw shut, allowing more room for her nose.

"I know what you want... I know you usually don't get... you're a sick slut that's resorted to manipulating your son to quell your demons... but you don't get to do that with me."

She was squirming, trying to find a comfortable position to grind her pussy against me. [

Stop your selfish, desperate slut. I already gave you a sample. You must earn any more. The initial sample was a freebie... but you believe you can steal from me... you think you can manipulate me and get whatever you desire! That blunder will cost you. I already informed you what you need to complete before I will give you more. Currently, you have to fulfill that and even more. If you continue with this foolish behavior, I will never touch you again... you can stay in your mediocre purgatory of inadequate sex. Do you comprehend me, bitch?

You ceased moving when I instructed you to... you nodded your head when I permitted you.

"No... don't utter a word. I will set you free, then I will depart. You're going to remain here, fix yourself so you appear like the mother you are expected to be instead of the submissive sex object that you are.

You are meddling with fire, manipulating Jerome the way you are... I stated shut the fuck up! He may never hurt you, though if you agitate him enough, he might, but he will hurt you or another girl later on if you don't train him to be gentle and affectionate with women, and then he will be in prison or dead... I actually like him... I don't know why, cause I don't adore many individuals, especially not overly self-absorbed, cock-sucking sluts who believe their shit doesn't stink.

If I have to tell you to remain silent again, I will choke you and abandon you in a puddle of your own urine... now listen.

Yes... you are attractive and I want to have sex with you. Anybody would, aside from a goofy fuck, and I am not a goofy fuck... but I don't let my, not so little head, guide my judgment. I can live quite comfortably without you... won't miss a second of sleep at all. However, you... you will humiliate yourself, debase yourself, and jeopardize everything, including your child, just to induce me to scratch my itch, purely because you can't control me into performing the act.

I released her... she was gasping, shaking...

"What are you waiting for tart? Get sanitized. Be submissive."

She nodded once again, looked down and began futzing with her buttons.

"Call an Uber and tell him to meet me at the corner of Texas and Extension... compensate him and tip him handsomely when he drops me off."

She nodded her agreement...

"Do you have any queries cunt? Ask them now if you're uncertain..."

"Am I able to... should I... call you... can I call you Master?"

"No... you must prove yourself worthy of that... and so far, I think you're more trouble than you're worth... don't attempt to advocate... questions, I stated you could ask questions. I am willing to provide you with an opportunity to exhibit that you can learn and surpass some $10 street whore who can adhere to directions."

With that, I departed the bathroom, wary of whether Jerome was on the opposite side of the door waiting to slaughter me.

I encountered him in the kitchen finishing up.

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