Date: Tue, 12 Apr 2011 13:28:19 -0700 (PDT)
From: dws202 <dws202@yahoo.com>
Subject: Correcting His Dirty Son

This story is a work of fiction, please do not read if you are underage or
this material is not legal where you live. If you like it and want to let
me know, shoot me a message.


Correcting His Dirty Son


I knew he had something hidden in there, all boys his age do. A dirty
magazine, some lube to use to whack off, it's all to be expected. But I
didn't expect this.

He was at his grandparents with his mother for the weekend and I was moving
a new desk into his room. I had moved the twin bed to give myself room and
the mattress slid back, exposing the contents underneath. Sure enough, a
dirty magazine, and some lube. Fifteen is pretty young for such things,
though I thought I could handle it. But this was no ordinary skin
magazine--this one was nasty, not to mention homo. Even if I could have
taken the thought of my own son getting off on these pictures of men
inserting things in various orifices, I sure as hell wasn't prepared for
the small black tube-like thing I found as well. Did he use it when he
masturbated? Did he put it up his bum? I was horrified, and quickly put
everything back where I found it.

Not that I'm a prude, you know. In fact, later that day I dug the magazine
out and looked at it. OK, I guess I was a little bit of a prude. I knew
plenty of guys that got into "alternative" sexualities growing up, but not
me. That was for the weirdos and sickos. But there I was, looking at those
sickening pictures, these homos putting things in their filthy places, it
was so nasty and sick. I just wish my brain would tell that to my member,
which I noticed with horror was becoming aroused at this filth. That's why
you shouldn't look at such things, you never know what's going to turn on
feelings like that. Besides, I had more important things to do. To save my
son from his unnatural desires, I had to know what he was up to. I put the
spy camera safely hidden in his room but an angle so I could see the bed.

A week later I had the opportunity to review my work. They were both out
for the day, so I could retrieve the recording. I had suspected when my son
might have gotten up to something and turned on the camera, and I wasn't
disappointed. His mother and I had gone out for dinner a few nights ago,
and after a few hours of nothing the camera recorded him coming into the
room and retrieving his contraband. Sure enough, he looked at the filthy
pictures. He exposed his small member and moistened it with the lubricant,
pleasuring himself as he went through the magazine. And then he pulled his
pants off completely and turned around on the bed, exposing his hind cheeks
to the camera. His posterior was white and completely smooth, unlike my own
hairy one, and his anus was pink and puckered.  He fumbled for the black
tube-like object, seemed to be putting some of the lubricant on it, and
then to my dismay reached behind and inserted the object into his
rectum. Though not very large, it took my son several minutes to work the
object into full insertion, and he moaned and writhed disgustingly as he
did this. Suffice it to say, this seemed to arouse him alarmingly, and
within a minutes or so after managing to insert the object entirely into
his rectum, he ejaculated.

I was sick with shame for my son, and for myself for having witnessed such
a shocking display. But I had to find out the truth so I could nip this in
the bud. You can't fight evil unless you know what you're up against, after
all.

About a week later, while my wife was away on an all-day shopping trip and
my son was home, I visited his room where he was studying. There was no
point in telling my wife about this, she wouldn't handle it like I could
after all. I explained to my son what I had found and seen, and he was
terribly ashamed of himself and sobbed. I was sure this was more out of
fear of punishment than truly being sorry, but it was a start. I asked his
to produce the materials, and he did. Then I asked him to explain to me why
he was doing these things, what benefit he thought they had for him and why
he desired to look at such pictures or insert these types of objects in his
backside. He was confused and speechless of course, but I pressed the
matter, telling him that I really needed to understand these urges in order
to address them. I had him go through the magazine and explain what was
going on in all of the pictures one by one, then to tell me how and why
they aroused him. It was much worse than I thought -- my son was already
enthralled by the most unspeakable sexual acts at the age of fifteen. He
was "turned on" as he put it by images of male-male oral copulation, anal
copulation and even oral-anal contact. He explained that anal sex was an
obsession of his, which led me to the black object. He said it aroused him
immensely to insert this thing into his rectum and that he imagined it to
be another man's penis. I was appalled, and told him so. It was obvious
that having to explain himself and truly examine his disgusting feelings
and urges had helped my son to look on them in a new light. I thought I
might have finally reached him, and as is my general method of responsible
parenting, I asked him to get rid of these materials himself. He promised
he would. After returning to my room, I found to my dismay that I had
ejaculated inside my trousers listening to my son's sexual fantasies.

Several weeks later he approached me when we were home alone, and admitted
with shame that he had not been able to rid himself of his sexual
depravities. While disappointed, I reminded him that this was a process
that he needed to work on, and there was no simple solution. He did mention
that my discovery and subsequent talk had made him less able to enjoy
pleasuring himself, and I thought about that after sending him to his
room. Upon further reflection, it seemed to me that having to explain
himself, to bring these things out into the open and remove their aura of
forbidden desire, might be the key to curing him of the obsession.

I went to his room and asked if he still had his playthings. He admitted
that he did, and I asked him to produce them. I told him that surely he
would not dare to put on such a display as I had seen if he knew his own
father were watching it, so I told him to do exactly what he had done when
I caught it on tape. As I suspected, he was extremely reluctant to do so,
which was the point after all. But I insisted, and my son tearfully brought
the magazine out, took down his drawers, lubed up the black object, and
inserted it in his hairless hole. I told him to push it in and out of his
rectum and made sure that he could see that I was watching him closely. I
saw with satisfaction that his penis was limp with shame even as he
pleasured his backside, though noted with disgust that my own was extremely
rigid. Unfortunately, his own member soon sprang to life with the repeated
insertions, which made me have to admit that the boy really did enjoy anal
insertion. While I was sure that having his father witness his shame would
help him to stop, he simply continued inserting the object and sobbing,
begging me to stop watching him but obviously becoming more aroused.

I asked him if he still liked to think of the black object as another man's
penis, and he said he did. I stood up and undid my own trousers, pulling
them down and exposing myself to him. I asked him if he could possibly
imagine that the penis he fantasized inserting into himself could be the
one he saw now, his own father's no less. He said he wasn't sure, and I
took his hesitation as perhaps my last chance to end this once and for
all. I stepped forward, grabbed the object from my son's hand, and stood
poised at his prone posterior.

The shocked look on his face as he looked back at me was all I needed to
proceed. And how about this, I asked him, how do you feel now with your own
father preparing to enter your backside? Is this what you fantasized about,
I asked him. I didn't give him time to answer, as there was no time. I
simply plowed ahead, and pushed my rigid member as deeply as possible into
my son's innards. I could feel the hot and wet walls of his rectum clinging
to my penis as it invaded his insides, and his screams of protest urged me
on. Is this what you want, I asked again. Is this what you want? Is this
what you want?

Did you want your father's dick inside you? Did you want to be invaded by
the dick that made you? Did you want this? Did you want your dad's cock up
your hole? Is this what you were thinking about, watching daddy's hard cock
pushing into your tight little bunghole, you little faggot? You can forget
your little buttplug, baby, daddy's gonna give you the real thing. Daddy's
gonna shove his big fat cock all the way up your hole and make you beg for
it. Daddy's gonna fuck your ass from behind and watch his cock plowing in
and out of his own son's asshole, and then daddy's gonna shoot his fat cock
up your butt, yeah. And then daddy's going to slowly slip his still hard
cock out of your ass, and stare down at your beautiful little white
hairless buttcheeks and your swollen, puckered hole with daddy's cum
dripping out of it and running down your crack. And then daddy's going to
kneel down and lick his own cum right off your sweet little fucked hole
while you jack off, and then lick up the cum you spill on the bed when you
climax, and then we're going to give daddy your sweet hole everytime he
asks for it.


dws202@yahoo.com