Crossing the Forbidden Boundaries (justanoobwriter x Verse)

[justanoobwriter]

It was a long shift for Caitlynn. The 46 year old woman's feet were tired from the heels she had to wear as a part of her dresscode, as she was a teller at the local bank, and their rules regarding what each employee can wear were pretty strict. It wasn't even that she wasn't used to wearing high heeled shoes, as her late husband was also pretty strict with what she was allowed to wear, but a ten hour shift during which you can hardly ever sit down would tire out any high-heeled shoe veteran.

The platinum blonde, slim woman was also tired mentally on top of that. The small inheritance in the form of rolled up bundles of hundred dollar bills left by her husband, Andrew, who never was a law-abiding citizen, was running short, and she had to do all she could to provide for her barely-a-legal-adult son, Corey. He really did take after his father in terms of his entrepreneaurship- getting into half-assed less-than-legal get-rich-quick schemes he planned out with his so called friends ever since he entered his teenage years. Whether selling oregano to high school kids as weed, or baby laxative mixed with lidocaine as coke to local businessmen, or robbing some poor old folks on their way home from church, Corey always found a way of getting himself in trouble. Still, wherever she could, Caitlynn bailed him out- he was her son, after all.

She had hoped that day would turn out different. That they could at least resemble a normal family once again, like they used to, those ten or so years before.

The blonde pulled into the empty parking space under the apartment building she lived in with her son, she knew full well that he was home as his chopper (which she never questioned where he got from, for the sake of her own sanity) was also parked there. She even bought cake on her way home, and not the cheap supermarket frozen one, but one from a real bakery, which she had to order beforehand, due to the backlog the place had.

A short elevator ride later, Caitlynn was on the right floor and opened the door. She gently placed the cake on the kitchen table, removed the protective plastic cover from the top of the packaging, and grabbed a pair of plates, champagne glasses, a knife and two cake forks from their respective places in the kitchen cupboards and drawers. A short while later the table was set, for just her and her son.

The woman didn't even bother changing her clothes yet out of the white button down shirt and black pencil skirt, she just took off her heels, and walked up to Corey's bedroom's door, with only her dark gray, opaque pantyhose covering her feet. "Corey, honey, come to the kitchen, I have something for you!" She knocked, but didn't open the door intruding on her son's privacy- she knew better not to do it after she got scolded for it in a very verbal outburst a couple of times. "Come on, hun, it's your eighteenth birthday, don't sit cooped up in there all day, please..." Caitlynn added after a short while without response.​

 

[Verse]

Corey had inherited something bad from his father.

It felt like a shadow on his mind at first, when he tried to hold on to his mother. It wasn't much of a loss, but because she felt it, Corey had, too. But complicated, heavy feelings have a tendency to mature into something darker in a teen boy. It felt better to take it out on other boys. And when he'd fought enough, he knew how to do it. It was a simple, cheap way of finding yourself at the top of the food chain among equally hormonal peers.

Lately he'd been running around at night with a little more weight to his wares. No longer faking the things they bought, he'd moved up in the underworld. While he was still a low-run dealer, he was the leader of his own group. This meant he had a few pairs of legs to move drugs for him. It wasn't a big operation, but without too many moving parts, that also meant more money back for effort. And they'd been with him long enough that their innate respect and fear was enough to keep them in line, even when the money started coming in. For once, getting paid wasn't his main concern.

He had other urges. He wanted the respect of the elders in the business. In Yareli City, affectionately known as New City, all you could do was try to beat the ones under you, and climb over the ones ahead. But it was hard to be ambitious when you walked in like a king to the messy parties he attended. Got his cock sucked if he just mentioned it, and got to beat on guys if they stepped out of line. His ego was feverish, and in the current pool of bodies he swam in, there was no one to oppose him. He knew it wouldn't last forever, but he was going to enjoy it for as long as it lasted. The youth in his bones didn't plan too far ahead, even if he had a great hunger for more.

But that hunger was a problem too. Maybe that's why he kept budding heads with his mother recently. Pretty thing. Just his taste, lately. He liked the way she kept her hair, and the skirts she had to wear for work was a fucking trap. She still treated him like he was her little boy, and it stung in his eyes because she was... Well, distracting. Fucked up, was what it was. So he drank about it and fucked girls his age about it. And still every time he thought things would be alright, on the nights and days he was at home, he'd see her and her face and body would piss him off.

He was kind of thinking about it now, the way things had just become flammable around him. He'd just shut the music on his phone up so he could bum off his own stash. It was his birthday, after all. He tried to ignore the sounds of her coming home. Fuck, she annoyed him, he thought as he rowed up the white lines on a mirror for that exact purpose on the nightstand he'd dragged to where he sat on the edge of the bed. He frowned when she knocked on the door. She was going to pretend they were still this happy family. He huffed and it almost blew the powder away. He had to recut the lines with a knife.

"Come in then." he muttered. And when she did, she'd see her son, with his healthy skin drawn over long limbs. Today he wore a beaten up black tanktop with frayed hem and jeans that weren't much better. The jacket was on the floor with a couple of other articles of clothing; lately he'd been getting into pretty high end brands. His long hair was sloppily tied back, but still wild to frame his face as he leaned over, his dark eyes locked into hers. She looked like subtle porn, dressed like that. Like a fucking secretary that got half her salary in cock. He didn't look away as he bent over, and sniffed the first line up, keeping eye contact. How does that feel, mommy, to know your son takes his sugar this way, these days?

It felt good, apart from the usual rush, to know he was stomping on her pretenses about him. So maybe he could stop pretending too.

 

[justanoobwriter]

At first, Caitlynn focused on the mess of a room she saw, and not on Corey. Dirty piles of clothes all over the place, some week-old takeout food packaging in the corner, and the place reeked of the lingering smell of cigarette and weed smoke. She never minded that her son smoked, she'd occasionally have a spliff or two as well just to take the edge off after a stressful day at work, or if Corey was being more troublesome than usual. The blonde's first instinct was to get a laundry basket and collect all the clothes to run a load in the washing machine, and then come in with a trash can to clean the place up a bit- she'd been used to being a live-in maid for Corey's father, so she did the same for her son.

That is, until she noticed what Corey was doing. "Son, what the fuck?!" Caitlynn exclaimed in shock, as the young man before him had just snorted a fat line of coke, all the while keeping eye contact with her. "So, what, you think you just turned eighteen and you can do whatever the fuck you want?!" She was livid, screaming. "You know what?" She asked loudly as she approached the nightstand. "If you want it to be like this, then fuck it!" Caitlynn said and quickly bent over the night stand, grabbed the rolled up bill her son just dropped on the mirror with the already cut lines of coke, inserted it into her nose and snorted a line herself, all that happening before Corey could even react.

Never in her years of living with her drug dealing scumbag husband had she ever done any hard drugs. Shortly after doing the line, as the pupils of her eyes widened, she felt an amazing rush. She was still angry, but the rush made it more manageable to gather her thoughts, as it provided a sort of clarity. "Want to make this already broken family even more dysfunctional?! Be my fucking guest, but from now on, you do your own laundry, cleaning, and you cook your own meals. And you pay me your fucking share of the rent, or you're out of here." She spoke fast, her thoughts coming in faster than she could form her sentences. It certainly was the first time Corey ever saw Caitlynn in a state like that, which was very far from her usual calm and collected self.

 

[Verse]

He knew the initial expression on his mother. She liked to wear it when she was dissatisfied with him. In fact, it was usually seen before she'd spring into action, huffing and frowning as she undid whatever wrong she thought he'd made. He had seen it plenty, growing up, and back when he cared, it had triggered guilt in him. But now it was annoying. And then he got to see it through drug-filtered eyes. He felt the rush of drowning his nerves. He'd been expecting it. He was good at this shit. But it was his turn to frown when she came at him. He had to part his legs around the nightstand, so close to him, when Caitlynn shoved her head there, and sniffed up a rather expensive stretch of his product. He sighed when she exhaled from it.

And then he wrinkled half his face in a quiet snarl as she got going. It was manic. He never really saw her lose control like that, not enough to take the coke for herself, even if they'd had their share of verbal sparing lately. Once or twice he'd been close to hitting her in his frustration and down right anger. "You really think that's what's gonna happen, mom?" he asked between his teeth. Being somewhat seasoned in this chemical jungle, he was steady enough to remain seated for a while. "You just took from my stash. You know what that'd cost you? Don't TALK to me about rent!" His arm waved her away like she was stupid.

He stood up finally, underlining that he was that much taller than her, with his long legs and stretched-out bones. Young but still looking down on most adults. He ran his hand through his hair and tried to get control of it by tying it back better. It fell into a similar mess, only now with a tail on the back of his head. It did frame his exaggerated facial bones rather well. Those bones were set in a seething expression about to erupt. "You're going to throw ME out?" he paraphrased and stabbed himself in the chest with his finger. He shook his head like he was tired and then looked around, as though he was going to find something to either shut her up or beat her with.

In the end he lunged for her and grabbed that platinum blonde hair of hers, that he used to sleep in when he was a kid. Pulled her down to her knees infront of the nightstand that didn't just host two more lines on the mirror, but the bag with the rest of it. He shook her by the hold he had of her strands. His other hand started undoing his jeans. "Nah. You're going to pay for that coke right now." In his world, getting money back for your product was important. He just needed an excuse. "You wanna do coke, mom?" he asked as the obese, lengthy cock flopped out, its hulking proportions contradicted the narrow hips it sprung from. She'd see it rising rapidly, almost in spite. Fully erect, if she cared to remember, it was worth two of his father's cock.

And he still managed to use the same hand to draw a line of cock ontop of it. It'd be a long one, and it still wouldn't cover the entire length. He pulled her head closer until he'd shoved his mother's nose up against his unwashed, now powdered dick. "Then go ahead! Have some more." he challenged, wiping her nose against the coke.

 

[justanoobwriter]

It was true that Corey was much bigger than Caitlynn. He towered over her, and even though he was quite lanky, he was still much stronger than his 46 year old mother. In any other circumstance, she would be terrified, but both adrenaline and the cocaine high made her more brave than usual. She couldn't help but squirm as he grabbed her by her hair and brought her to her knees. The woman was shocked to see him whip out his massive cock. She had no way of defending from the outburst of violence at that moment, so she didn't struggle at first as Corey was tossing her around like a wet rag.

Quite a bit of coke from his unwashed shaft got into Caitlynn's nose. A couple of seconds passed before she could say anything, but as that coke got into her bloodstream it only added to the high and rush, making her feel even bolder. "Look at you, fucking strong man of the house!" She shouted again, even though she was on her knees, on the filthy floor of the den Corey called a room. "Doing this to your own mother!" She added. Caitlynn was erratic, the fact that she just snorted what amounted to two huge lines of coke, and the strongest stimulants she ever tried being caffeine or nicotine did not help at all. "How about you fight someone your own size?! I gave birth to a fucking monster, it's your fucking piece of shit dad's cursed seed that brought this to me!" Yet again, she screamed, at the top of her lungs.

As Corey no doubt would've gotten distracted by this, Caitlynn got an idea from looking at her son's bare cock and balls and decided for a very bold move. She grabbed his sack and squeezed it, as hard as she could, digging her long, painted fingernails into it's skin, hoping that it would be enough to let her flee to her bedroom.

 

[Verse]

It was an unintentional rite of passage, to physically dominate your mother. He could feel the last of his childhood end, then, even through the vapors of the drugs. It invigorated him further, to know and see he could bring his mother down. She smelled like a day of work, and he always thought she dressed like a pornstar when she came home from her bank job. She had to know, in those skirts and pantyhose.

And then he put her face on his cock, and the muscles in her neck didn't fight all that much. He had many powertrips lately, but this bolstered him a lot. Just the sensation of her face on his dick, sucking up the powder, made his cock pulsate as she looked up at him, spewing those insults. He nodded in his frantic euphoria, even if she was being sarcastic. He fucking was the man of the house. What more evidence would she need? She was on her fucking knees with a cock in her face. Her narrating it actually just made it more real to him, and he liked it. Maybe he'd been letting the fact that she was his mother mean more than it meant for too long. Why should he quell his impulses? He could feel it now. She was just a woman, after all, subject to his strength like the others. "Yeah. I'm a fucking monster, mom." he said, reassured and calm. Her breath hit his cock when she screamed.

And then he doubled over, cussing when his heavy balls all but imploded in her cutting grip. He backhanded her out of reflex, that long arm swinging to clip her across the face hard. He let go of her hair so that she could fall as he nursed his sack with both his hands. "Augh." he said and looked down. Three scratches. And there was still coke on his dick. Quite the scene down there. He straightened once again. Not the worse he'd had. Now his teeth were mashed and his jaw was throbbing. "Okay. That's how you want it mom?" he muttered and came to her. Best for her would be if she stayed put, because if he had to chase her, he'd catch her before she got out, in which case he'd throw her to the floor. But if she hadn't moved, he'd be able to pull her toward him by her collar, popping every button on her shirt, to he could slap her hard again. Either way, she'd end up tossed onto his bed.

 

[justanoobwriter]

Caitlynn tried crawling away towards the door, but she made the mistake of closing it behind her when she entered the room. The adrenaline and rush of coke impacted her hand-eye coordination enough for her to completely miss the door handle as she was trying to get up to open it and stumble, just to fall down on the floor again. This was enough time for Corey to close the gap between them, and he was standing above her yet again.

Her hair was now all messed up and frayed, not in the long, straight bob she usually wore, but all over the place. If not for the coke and general stress and rush of the situation, she would feel how sore her neck and body was getting after being tossed around by her own son. Her opaque pantyhose was now ripped on her knees, revealing that her pale skin was irritated underneath them from the moment she was brought onto them by Corey. She already lost a button or two on her shirt, revealing a good portion of her cleavage. Her make-up was a bit smeared from the tears that flowed on and off through those past moments. Instead of like an elegant banker or a businesswoman, she truly did look like a cheap whore now, her nose powdered with coke, the last of it involuntarily snorted off her son's hard cock. Even though she was unable to show it at that time, deep down in her psyche, she felt absolutely rancid and rotten- she wanted to cry, but she couldn't.

And now she also started to feel a certain wetness around her nipples as she laid there, on her back, on the floor. She didn't dare to look at what caused it, out of fear it might've been one of Corey's ideas of tormenting her, but truth was that her pre-menopausal hormones, which were heavily imbalanced already, and the situation she found herself in wasn't helping at all; caused her to start lactating, the milk soaking through her white, sheer lace bra and buttoned office shirt.

 

[Verse]

He looked down at the result of his outburst, his heart rapidly beating in his torso. He could hear that rhythm, no, feel it on the inside of his eardrums, filling his skull.

She looked lovely there, put there by him. This authoritative figure in his life, the last one, laid on his floor with just a small amount of his effort. She looked like his triumph, with her tattered shirt and her running makeup. He'd loved her for being some kind of pure thing, and now he'd made her into this, the same as the women he'd toss some bills at when he was done with them. And it suited her. It kept her son's cock standing rigid. His eyes widened when he noticed the blossoming of gray where her nipples were supposed to be hidden under her bra and torn shirt. He grinned to himself. Fuck. He hadn't tried that kind of thing before. The brothels didn't really off that service, no matter how much money you threw at them. It'd be the closing of a circle, wouldn't it - between mother and child? A bead of precum pushed out from the slit on his cockhead when he looked down at her now, with equal threat and hunger in his eyes. He leaned down further. She hadn't moved.

At first, when he grabbed her leg, he pulled so quickly he only further tore her pantyhose and exposed that leg. It was a better look for her anyway. He then decided to grab her by her arm and yank her along. "That's fucking right." he muttered smugly, balls still stinging from her nails. He pulled her up and tossed her into the bed, quick to cross her wrists over her head and press them down with one of his hands over her head, down into the pillow. Her son was now ontop of her. His other hand glommed down on her still clad, wet breast and squeezed. He'd been obsessed with these hills for some time now.

He looked into her messy, coke dusted face, and she'd see the manic confidence in the young features of her once sweet baby boy. "You're gonna be mine, mom." he said sternly before ripping her shirt apart to expose her bra. He hooked a long finger between the cups and yanked. Either way, the bra would give so he'd get to see his mom's breasts. He'd made a point out of peeking when she thought he didn't see, when her bedroom door was ajar, or when she thought she'd locked the bathroom when taking a shower, but he'd never gotten to view them this up close since actually breastfeeding. He loved having all this power over her, when she could do nothing to stop him.

 

[justanoobwriter]

Caitlynn waited for whatever was about to happen, while laying on the floor. She nervously looked at her son as he approached her, knowing that attempting to escape by attacking his balls will not work again; she noticed that he still had his cock out, and it was now glistening with precum in the room's dim-ish light. As he grabbed her by her leg and started pulling her towards the bed, she tried to kick and swing at him, but she missed, and he was out of reach of her arms. She tried swinging at him, her fingers extended, trying to at least scratch him with her long fingernails, she missed again.

As she was picked up, she shrieked. When her son tossed her onto the bed, he used quite a lot of force, which knocked the wind out of her. The platinum blonde only managed to catch her breath when he pinned her down to the bed, she was unable to move, her hands held tight she tried using her knees to push him off, but he was too heavy, and she couldn't kick him as there was not enough room for her legs to gain any momentum. Then she felt his hand on her breast, she looked at him, her eyes now filled with terror, as she saw that he looked at her like a man did at a piece of fuckable meat. She knew that look all to well, it was the same look her late husband, Corey's father, used to give her sometimes when he came home drunk or high from one of his escapades. She knew what her son wanted to do, but hoped he wouldn't dare cross that line.

Her fear was only confirmed, and her hopes shattered, as he ripped her shirt and bra apart, revealing her nicely sized, albeit bit saggy breasts with large pink areolas and pointy nipples. "NO, PLEASE, DON'T DO THIS!" She begged and pleaded, although deep down she knew it was futile.

 

[Verse]

He knew to stay clear of her limbs when he picked her leg up. It wasn't the first time a woman had needed some convincing. As much as he liked them coming to him, he also enjoyed just taking what he wanted. The nightly adventures he went on were dark for more reasons than the time. She didn't know him anymore. He was filled up with dear memories of her when he dragged her, but just as she clawed at him with wrath, he meant to do primal things to her in return. He'd learned this kind of thing when he was in a certain mindset, and she'd become like one of those belles now; available to him. The only thing that'd separate him from her now was his own actions. He liked throwing her, and feeling her futile weight that had once been enough to carry and care for him. His little mother; bouncing on his bed like any other girl about to be taught a lesson about their own body.

He laughed dismissively, shrill, a few bubbles in his throat, when she tried to move underneath him once he'd locked her wrists. The way she wormed actually was rather enticing. Why do women's struggle only serve to draw men in? He let her go on for a while, because he enjoyed the show. It moved more blood into his cock. But when he gave attention to her breasts, that beckoned him to come in closer with the lovely liquid dampening her bra and clothes, she had to face the reality of her situation. He groaned when he saw the fear in her. Beautiful, 46 year old Caitlynn, finally becoming privy to the fact that her son wanted her, and that she relied on him to stop.

He stared down at the breasts, matured. The fact that they weren't perky, youthful mounds made him even harder. Those were his mother's tits. He looked at her begging. She was so pretty when she was upset like this. "Mhm." he pandered to her but slid down her body and glommed on to her breast with his free hand. The palm got soaked in her milk. And when he was low enough, his other hand still controlling her wrists, he lifted the breast with the hand already there, squezzing around it to bulge it, and present the nipple before he sucked it and as much of her breast that he could into his mouth. He moaned onto her soft flesh as he made sure her milk squirted into his swallowing gullet.

While his face was mashed against her, and his tongue flicked against the life-giving nipple, the hand formerly on her breast moved down her body, and between her thighs, tearing at her pantyhose and ripping at her skirt. It was easy for her son to subdue her, and do with her what he wanted. The residual flare of sensation from the coke was wearing off, but he was high on this instead. Last time he'd breastfed he was nothing, and now, as he ate from her, he could do whatever he wanted with her.

It was clear what he wanted when his hand got under her skirt and started ripping her pantyhose crotch.