In the end, he waits three more days both to align with Mr. Ramiel’s schedule, and to give Rachel more time to prepare. When the time finally comes, she still seems skeptical. “You’re seriously going through with this?” she asks. “I mean, listen, I’m all for helping you get revenge on Marcus, but this seems kind of ballsy.” She coughs slightly. “If you’ll, uh, pardon the expression.”
“It’ll work,” he assures her. “I know it will.”
“Obviously it’ll work.” She snorts. “I’m good at what I do. I’m just worried about you, is all. Are you sure you can trust that teacher of yours?”
Casey smiles at her. It’s very strange to have somehow made some kind of real friend in the midst of all of this. He’s not quite sure how it happened, but he’s glad for it regardless. “It’ll be fine. I appreciate the concern, though.”
She shrugs. “Well, it’s your life, I guess.”
He’s lucky for the sake of his plan that he happens to share Mr. Ramiel’s history class with Marcus. Not that he couldn’t do it otherwise, but this just makes everything much more convenient. When Casey walks into the classroom and hands Mr. Ramiel his homework from the previous night, he smiles. Mr. Ramiel nods minutely, and Casey’s heartbeat speeds up.
Casey takes his seat on the right side of the classroom and waits impatiently for Marcus to enter. The boy is nearly late, and Casey’s nerves are frayed to tatters by the time he finally arrives. As soon as he sits down the bell rings, and Mr. Ramiel starts introducing the test they will be taking that period.
Casey waits until the room is quiet, everyone’s heads down on the test, before he covertly draws his phone out of his lap. With trembling fingers, he texts a message to Marcus:
<Casey>
We should talk.
This part is a little bit of a gamble; Casey is banking on Marcus’s habit of never remembering to turn off his phone. Sure enough, moments later there is an obnoxious dinging noise from Marcus’s desk, causing everyone in class to look over at him.
“Marcus, you know the rules,” says Mr. Ramiel, holding out his hand. “I keep it until the end of the period.”
Marcus scowls, but doesn’t make a fuss over it. He takes his phone up to Mr. Ramiel and slaps it into the man’s palm. As he does, Casey lets out the breath he has been holding. Everything should be fine now. The wheels are officially in motion.
The rest of the period goes by without a lot of fuss. Casey can’t concentrate on the test, but he’s certain Mr. Ramiel will let him stay after school to re-take it if he asks, with some inevitable compensation afterwards. It’s been a while since he’s had a school day properly book-ended by Mr. Ramiel fucking him both before and after.
He tries to catch glimpses of Mr. Ramiel during the class period, but the man is very good. It looks for all the world like he’s just typing on his laptop, to the point where Casey begins to worry that he has somehow forgotten about the plan. He tries to take deep breaths, calm himself until the class period ends.
When the bell rings, Casey hangs back as everyone else filters out of the room, a few late-finishers dropping their tests on the desk as they head to the door. Marcus is one of the last to go, waiting at Mr. Ramiel’s desk while the teacher hands him back his phone. Finally, when Casey and Mr. Ramiel are alone in the room at last, Mr. Ramiel hands Casey a small SD card. “I hit send right at the end, so it probably won’t arrive until he’s between classes. Sometimes the mailing list software take a moment to process the emails anyway. That should make it less incriminating.”
Casey nods. He takes the SD card, although he’s not sure why Mr. Ramiel is handing it back to him. It’s not like he needs it anymore. “Thanks,” he says.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Mr. Ramiel warns. “We still have to play our parts convincingly. I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”
Casey nods and heads to his next class. When he reaches the next classroom, he checks his email. Nothing. He nearly has a panic attack. He refreshes, and then refreshes again a minute later. The bell rings, and the nun asks everyone to take their seats. Casey risks refreshing his email one more time.
There it is. An email from the school-wide mailing list, with the subject line “slut.” He risks opening it, even though class has already technically started. The image that greets him is exactly what he expected: a familiar picture of himself, skirt pulled up, panties pulled down, ass facing the camera, looking over his shoulder in shock. Where the original photo showcased his toy-stuffed ass and caged genitals, however, this photo features rather unremarkable female parts, unadorned by any kind of outside accoutrements. They are front and center and, despite a significant amount of hair, unmistakable.
Just over five minutes of class pass before an announcement rings out over the PA system: “Will Mr. Ramiel and Casey Obedire please report to the headmaster’s office immediately.”
Casey feigns a look of surprise and stands up, gathering his things and glancing at the nun for permission. She waves a hand at him dismissively and continues to teach. Casey makes his way up to the headmaster’s office, wondering the entire time how they’re going to choose to approach this. Will they speak to the two of them together? Separately? He’s a little surprised Marcus’s name wasn’t in the announcement as well. Are they planning to call him in later?
When Casey arrives, Mr. Ramiel is waiting in a chair outside of the headmaster’s office. He gives Casey an encouraging smile. Casey tries to return it, but his nerves are back now in full force, and he’s not sure he quite manages to look as confident as he hopes.
The headmaster—Father Leeren, a large, imposing priest with an antiquated mustache and an air of seriousness at all times—opens the door and waves Casey in, shutting it behind him without addressing Mr. Ramiel at all.
When Casey sits down in the uncomfortable chair in front of Father Leeren’s desk, the priest takes a long moment before speaking. He seems to be composing himself, deciding what he’s going to say. Casey can’t blame him; it certainly is a hell of a photo. Finally, as the silence drags on, Casey takes it upon himself to ask, “What’s this about, Sir?”
Father Leeren takes a deep breath. “Miss Obedire, can you please describe for me your relationship with Mr. Ramiel?”
“My history teacher?” Casey affects a faint surprise. “Um, he’s a good teacher, I guess? He gives me a ride to school most mornings so I can study before class. Otherwise I have to take the bus, which is really long and I get motion-sick if I try to read. It’s on his way. But it’s still very nice of him to do so.”
The headmaster frowns. “And he’s never made any... untoward advances towards you?”
Casey raises his eyebrows. “No Sir! I’m... I’m not sure what you mean. He just brings me in to school and then I usually study quietly in his office until class. Is he... is he in trouble somehow?”
“Not exactly.” The headmaster takes a deep breath. “Miss Obedire, I’m afraid I have some very bad news. A certain... photograph of you has been sent around via the school-wide mailing list to all teachers and students. No doubt you’ll see it yourself soon enough when you next log in to your school email account, although I very much encourage you to simply delete the email without looking at it. I’m afraid it’s quite sexual in nature.”
Casey gasps, bringing a hand up to his mouth.
The headmaster continues. “By default, all school-wide emails require a verification code in order to be sent out, to avoid abuse of the mailing list. Our system reports these codes automatically. It seems that this email was sent using Mr. Ramiel’s verification code. Now, the system also logs a record of the email address from which the email was sent, so we’re retrieving that information now in order to verify, but-“
“Please-” Casey interrupts, already digging out his phone. “Please, if it’s the picture I think it is, it wasn’t him, I think I know...”
Casey hurriedly digs up his email before the headmaster can stop him. Sloppy; he shouldn’t have opened the email earlier. It should look like this is his first time seeing the picture. But the headmaster doesn’t seem to be paying close enough attention to Casey’s screen to notice. In fact, it’s not until the photo is front and center on Casey’s phone that he even seems to notice what Casey is doing. He winces as Casey brings up the photo, and looks uncomfortable when Casey’s eyes begin to well with tears.
“Please Sir,” says Casey, “it’s Marcus. Marcus Logan. He- he made me take that photo. I-I should never have let him touch me, I’m sorry. But he said if I didn’t let him take that photo, then he’d spread rumors that I was secretly a boy, and that I was sleeping with a teacher. He said he’d get me expelled, like he did those other girls. Please, I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have let him do that! I know it’s supposed to be my m-most precious flower! I’m so sorry!”
The headmaster scowls at this new information. Casey does his best to maintain tears and an air of humiliation. It’s not hard; all he has to do is think of all that Marcus has put him through, of the frustration that his caged cock feels even now, unreleased for more than two months.
Before the headmaster can respond, however, the door opens. Casey turns back, expecting to see Mr. Ramiel, but it’s a secretary from the front office. She gives Casey a pitying look; she must have seen the photos. She holds out a sheet of paper. “Here’s the logs you requested, Father,” she says quietly. She attempts a sympathetic smile at Casey as the headmaster takes the papers, and then bows back out of the room.
The headmaster is silent a moment as he takes the paper back to his desk and scans it. “MLogan,” he says after a moment. “It seems you were right, Miss Obedire. It does seem to have come from his email address.”
“Please don’t expel me,” Casey pleads. He doesn’t think there’s a high likelihood of this happening, but it’s not impossible. He wants to be sure.
“No no, no fear of that,” the headmaster assures him. “The culprit here is pretty clear. If you’re comfortable with it, then let’s bring Mr. Ramiel in now as well.”
Casey nods, but the headmaster isn’t really paying attention to him anymore anyway. He goes back to the door and beckons Mr. Ramiel in, gesturing for him to have a seat next to Casey. The teacher is wearing a fairly convincing expression of mild concern as he takes a seat. “Can I help you two with something?” he asks.
“Mr. Ramiel,” says the headmaster. His voice is heavy; burdened, Casey is sure, by imagining the inevitable fallout of this entire situation. Casey can’t say he envies the man. “Unfortunately I must inform you that your credentials were used to send a... regrettable email through the school mailing list this afternoon.”
Mr. Ramiel frowns. “I don’t believe I’ve sent any school-wide emails today.”
The headmaster nods. “We’ve checked the email logs, and it seems it was sent from a student email, not your own.”
“Ah.” Mr. Ramiel winces slightly. “I’m sorry, I’m sure that’s my fault. I keep the info on a post-it note on my desk. I should be more careful with it. I’m very sorry. I hope the email was nothing too disruptive?”
There is a short silence. Inwardly, Casey is incredibly curious to see how the headmaster will handle this. Is he just going to show Mr. Ramiel the photo? Is he going to try to describe it?
The headmaster glances at Casey. “Miss Obedire, would you mind taking a seat outside in the waiting area? We’re going to have to discuss the punishment of the offending student, and I can’t imagine you want to deal with hearing about any of this more than you have to.”
Casey nods, somewhat disappointed, and leaves the room to wait outside.
They take a rather long time discussing. Casey waits patiently. Eventually the bell rings, classes change, and still he waits. Finally the door opens, and Mr. Ramiel walks out, taking a seat next to Casey on the chairs. He grabs up both of Casey’s hands in his, and looks him in this eyes, his expression sorrowful.
“I’m so sorry that my negligence allowed this to happen to you,” he says, just loud enough that the nearby secretaries can hear. “I promise you, we’re going to have the person who did this expelled. I know that there’s not much that can be done to deal with this kind of damage to a reputation, but I’ll do everything I can. The school is calling your mother-” Casey stiffens. This was NOT part of the plan. But Mr. Ramiel continues: “-and I’ve asked to be the one to explain the situation to her. Even though I didn’t send that email, I feel like I should still take some responsibility for explaining the matter. Are you okay to go back to class for now? We can let you know when she arrives.”
Casey nods. This is a bit of a wrinkle he didn’t anticipate. But Mr. Ramiel seems to have thought quickly, thank goodness. He stands up and lets Mr. Ramiel pat him on the shoulder, then shuffles dejectedly back to class. As he leaves the office, he hears the announcement come on: “Will Marcus Logan please report to the headmaster’s office?” Internally, his heart sings.
His classmates, when he returns, are full of whispers. It’s been long enough now that most of the students must have seen the photo, and the rumor-mill is ablaze. Casey tries to ignore it; it’s easy enough to look uncomfortable, and he only half-listens to the things people are trying to say below his hearing. The most interesting reactions come from the many boys he’s fucked so far; some look at him with uncertainty, some with pity, and still others with a knowing leer. Casey’s still not sure how he wants to play this angle with them. It depends largely on how the rumors shake out, he supposes.
His second-to-last period of the day is computer graphics, and Rachel makes no qualms about sitting next to him, despite the whispers. She half-smiles at him and makes sure the teacher isn’t looking before leaning in close. “Rumor is that Marcus is getting expelled over this,” she whispers. “So good job.”
“Good job yourself,” he responds quietly. “Whose vagina was that, out of curiosity?”
She shrugs. “Porn star. It’s a pretty popular pose; easy enough to find someone matching your hair and skin color.”
“A lot of hair for a porn star,” Casey notes.
She shrugs again. “Some people are into that, I guess.”
“Thanks again for your help,” he says, and means it earnestly. “It really was an amazing job you did.”
She doesn’t seem particularly moved by his emotion, but takes the compliment without protest. “Thank you for getting that shitbag expelled. Hope you don’t end up suffering for it.”
“Me too,” Casey agrees. Then they are forced to stop talking to each other as the teacher begins class. It’s halfway through the period when Casey once again hears his name over the PA system, letting him know his mother has arrived and this time calling him to Mr. Ramiel’s classroom.
When he arrives, he’s surprised to see Mr. Ramiel standing alone in the empty classroom, with the door to his office closed. Casey opens his mouth to ask where his mother is, but Mr. Ramiel holds a finger up to his lips. Casey blinks, and instead just tilts his head in question.
Without responding verbally, Mr. Ramiel hands Casey a pair of pants. Casey blinks at them a moment before realization dawns. Of course. He’s gotten so used to wearing his skirt, he nearly forgot about it. He can’t go in to see his mother while cross-dressing; he’d give away the whole game immediately. He quickly takes the pants from Mr. Ramiel and changes into them, handing Mr. Ramiel his skirt. Mr. Ramiel tucks the garment into a drawer in his desk before saying loudly, “Ah, there you are Mr. Obedire. Please, this way.” He gestures towards the little office.
It’s weird for Casey to see his mother sitting in one of the very chairs in which Casey himself is so often fucked, but he says nothing, instead taking a seat next to her. She smiles at him, and he gives her a tired, worried smile back.
“Mrs. Obedire,” Mr. Ramiel begins, taking a seat at his own desk, the chair turned most of the way around to face the two of them, “I’m very sorry to have to bring you in today. There’s been... a bit of an incident.”
Casey’s mother frowns. “Casey’s not in trouble, is he?”
Mr. Ramiel shakes his head. “No, unfortunately your d- your son has been the target of some harassment by another student.” Casey bites his lip at Mr. Ramiel’s near slip-up, but Casey’s mother doesn’t seem to notice. “It seems another student has been trying to spread rumors about him cross-dressing, and has shared an image to that effect of your son’s face photoshopped onto the body of a female porn star.”
Casey’s mother is aghast. She yells a bit. She hugs Casey. Mr. Ramiel explains about his password being used to send the email, and she yells again. When she has finally settled down, Mr. Ramiel says, “I absolutely assure you that the student in question is being expelled immediately, with no leniency. However, we do know that this student has a long history of spreading uncouth rumors about other students, so we urge you to ignore any such rumors that you might hear about your son’s school life or behavior. I assure you that he is a model student, and well-respected by the faculty here. You have nothing to worry about with him.”
Casey’s mother looks relieved, and puts her arm around Casey’s shoulders, squeezing him in another half-hug. “That’s my boy,” she says quietly.
“If you have no further questions,” says Mr. Ramiel, standing, “you’re welcome to take Casey home for the day. Or, if he would prefer, he can stay and finish out the rest of the school day. I’d be more than happy to drive him- that is, drive him home afterwards. It’s the least I can do.”
Casey’s mother stands too, turning to Casey. “Well Case?” she asks. “It’s up to you. Do you want to stay, or go home?”
Casey puts on a brave face, smiling at her. “It’s okay, I’ll stay. You should probably get back to work anyway. I’m just glad you’re not mad.”
She hugs him. “Of course I’m not mad. None of this is your fault.” She kisses his forehead. “I’ll see you at home this evening, yeah?”
Casey nods, and his mother finally leaves with a last nod at Mr. Ramiel. As soon as she’s gone, Casey slumps down in relief. He’s not sure how they pulled this all off, but somehow they’ve made it through to the other side. He turns to find Mr. Ramiel grinning at him. “Congratulations,” the man says. “That went off flawlessly.”
“Better than I expected, even,” Casey admits. “Now if anyone tells my mom I’ve been crossdressing, I’ll have an excuse to play it off. That was a nice bit of improvisation, by the way. Thanks.”
“All’s well that ends well?” asks Mr. Ramiel.
Casey sighs. “Mostly. I just wish I could’ve gotten my key back too. That’s the one loose end I didn’t hit. I guess I’ll have to find a way to see a very discreet locksmith? Or invest in some bolt cutters or something.”
“Actually...” Mr. Ramiel reaches into his pocket and, to Casey’s astonishment, pulls out a familiar metal rod.
Casey gapes at it. “H-how...?”
Mr. Ramiel shrugs. “I let Marcus know it could have gone a lot worse for him than just being expelled. After all, that picture constitutes child pornography. He had no way of knowing I wasn’t going to bring it to the authorities. I pretended that you had mentioned something of yours that he had, and that I didn’t know what it was. It worked surprisingly well. I guess this thing doesn’t really look like much of a key if you don’t know what it is. I suppose we’re lucky he kept it on him.”
Casey reaches for the key, his fingers trembling. Mr. Ramiel smiles. “Alright if I do the honors?”
Casey nods and unzips his pants as fast as he can make his fingers move, shucking them off in a frenzy along with his shoes. He pulls down the women’s panties that he’s still wearing and bites his lip as Mr. Ramiel descends to one knee in front of him.
Casey’s key consists of a single metal cylinder with a few raised rectangles running down its surface in a specific pattern. It slots into a tall groove on the side of Casey’s cage like the center of a hinge and, as Mr. Ramiel turns it, allows Casey’s cage to separate into two metal halves that fall apart easily.
Casey nearly sobs as his cock fills with blood for the first time in over a month, swelling to hardness with a swiftness that makes him dizzy. He stumbles backwards a step, collapsing into the chair just behind him with a groan.
Then he nearly screams as Mr. Ramiel leans forward and takes Casey’s cock into his mouth. Casey grips the edge of the chair so hard his knuckles go white. Mr. Ramiel sucks him down, pushing Casey’s cock into his throat, and Casey’s vision blacks out for a moment. It’s all he can do not to come immediately, and he writhes, helpless, under the ministrations.
After a second or two, Mr. Ramiel backs off slightly, choosing instead to lathe Casey’s cock generously with his tongue. Casey is reduced to helpless pleading, muttering “please” over and over and over again like a prayer.
And then Mr. Ramiel backs off entirely. Casey whines pathetically, a sob tearing from his lungs, as the wetness cools his bereft cock in the open air. But he is not waiting long. Mr. Ramiel grabs him by the arm and yanks him to his feet, pushing him towards the desk.
Casey stumbles against it stomach-first, feeling Mr. Ramiel pushing him down, bending him over the edge. Seconds later he feels the familiar sensation of Mr. Ramiel’s cock pushing its way into Casey’s well-lubed asshole, coupled with the much less familiar sensation of Mr. Ramiel reaching around his hip to grab his cock in front and stroke him as he begins to pound his phallus into Casey’s hole.
The sensation is unbearably delicious. Mr. Ramiel knows right where to go for his prostate, and Casey bucks helplessly under him each time he hits the mark. At the same time the fast, efficient strokes on his cock are blindingly pleasurable, almost unbearably so. He comes helplessly mere minutes into the encounter, torn apart by the waves of sensation attacking him from all sides.
Mr. Ramiel shows no signs of slowing down, however. Even as Casey’s eyes water from overstimulation, the teacher continues to thrust into him, long deep strokes that pin him to the desk. He does stop stroking Casey’s cock after the boy comes, but his attention to the boy’s ass is relentless.
At first, Casey is breathless and overstimulated, writhing on Mr. Ramiel’s cock. As thrust after thrust rams deep into Casey’s rectum with no end in sight, eventually he feels himself start to grow hard once again. His cock is overjoyed at the freedom, and Casey pants and groans with pleasure as Mr. Ramiel eventually returns his attentions to it.
This time Casey manages to last a little bit longer, pinned between the twin pleasures of Mr. Ramiel’s hand on his cock and Mr. Ramiel’s cock plugging his ass. He still feels lost in sensation, barely aware of the physical world around him, and when he comes it’s with the brightest of stars exploding behind his eyes.
He hears Mr. Ramiel groan as well, and feels the twitching of the man’s balls as he finally empties a load into Casey’s ass. As Mr. Ramiel withdraws, he turns Casey over, leaving the boy panting and dripping cum onto Mr. Ramiel’s desk, a broken, heaving mess.
Casey only starts to come to when he registers Mr. Ramiel’s attention at his crotch again. He blinks and sits up with a jolt as he realizes that Mr. Ramiel is re-applying Casey’s cage, snapping it together around Casey’s genitals and swiftly turning the key with a sharp metallic click. With a smooth, elegant motion, Mr. Ramiel draws the key out of its groove and returns it to his own pocket.
Casey stares at him, his head still fogged. The world feels unreal. “W-”
“I figured I might hold on to this for a while,” says Mr. Ramiel casually. “Someone responsible should probably look after it. I promise I’ll let you out more often than Marcus did.” He smirks and leans in close, murmuring into Casey’s ear, “If you can earn it.”
Casey swallows. He could demand it back. As Mr. Ramiel said, he can almost certainly get Mr. Ramiel in far more trouble than Mr. Ramiel could get Casey. But...
Casey licks his lips and nods. Mr. Ramiel pats his head. “What a good girl,” he croons, and goes to retrieve Casey’s skirt.