Date: Sat, 26 Jul 2008 11:43:38 +0000 (GMT)
From: slut <maleslut443@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Family Secrets 13

All messages and comments appreciated and answered.

Part Twelve

At breakfast next morning, Tracey asked Dad if he could give
us both a lift into school as she had a lot of stuff to take
in for the last day. He made a bit of a play of it, but he
did agree. I went back upstairs to start the cam feed from
the front room recording, just in case, and then we both
piled into the car with Tracey in the front next to Dad and
me in the back seat. As soon as we were clear of our street,
she leant over and undid his flies. She put her hand inside
and felt about a bit, but then sat back again without taking
it out. Which I'd say was pretty sensible. She might be
getting a right kick out of this, as I was, but she wasn't
about to do anything stupid.  I found that reassuring, and
probably Dad did too.

"Tell us a story, Dad," she said.

He glanced at her. "What sort of story?" he asked.

"Tell us about when you first discovered you were a cock-
sucking slut," she said, her hand slipping underneath her
school skirt. "When you first found you needed cock. Because
you do need cocks, don't you, Dad? Nice big ones like Chris
here fucked you with last night."

The day before he would have hit the roof if his sweet
little innocent Tracey had said bloody, but life was very
different now. "Yes, " he said, looking straight ahead. "I
need cock."

"And how did it feel to have your son fucking your face,
Dad?" she asked. "Using you as his cum-dump bitch?"

There was a pause before Dad spoke. "It felt good," he said.

All I could see of Dad was the back of his head, but Tracey
had her head half-turned and I could see the quiet satisfied
smile on her face. "So tell us how it all began," she said,

So he did, as the car made it ways to the school. He had
been about 14and attending one of the single sex schools
then common. He'd had a long-running dispute with one of the
other boys in his class, called Simon, which had been born
basically out of the fact that neither of them liked the
other. Every now and again the dispute flared up, and that
day it had in the dining room during lunch. Dad had got the
better of it, and there had been a lot of laughter around
the tables at Simon's expense. That afternoon after school
he got his revenge when Dad was on his way home across the
park.  Simon and two of his mates jumped dad and pulled him
into the public lavatories. They held him down on the filthy
floor and polled off his trousers and pants.

"They groped me a bit," he said matter-of-factly. "Just sort
of for something to do, to deepen my humiliation. And that
would have been it, if I hadn't got an erection. That kind
of changed things."

"Was it the groping or the situation?" Tracey asked,
sounding genuinely interested.

I saw his shoulders shrug. "Who knows?" he said. "Probably a
bit of both. When they saw it had aroused me, the whole mood
changed. They called me a lot of names, and you can guess
what ones. And that just seemed to make me more aroused. It
egged them on to go further."

Simon had taken out his cock and sat on Dad's chest while
the other two held him down. He'd dangled it in his face,
and then rubbed it across his lips.

"I opened my mouth, "Dad said. "I don't know why. Just
seemed natural to do. Next thing Simon's cock was ion my
mouth, my first taste of one. It was limp at first, but soon
started to grow hard. And I found I loved that sensation, a
cock growing in my mouth. I still do. I think Simon then got
a bit embarrassed that I'd made him hard, because he pulled
it out of my mouth and stood up. He stood over me a moment,
glaring down at me, and then he started to piss on my face."

They'd left after that, taking his trousers and pants with
them. He later found them, after a very awkward departure
half-naked from the lavatories, over a bush by the park
entrance.

"By the end of the next day," he said. "The story was all
round the school."

We had reached our own school. I got out, feeling a bit
subdued. Tracey followed, with a friendly reminder to Dad to
make sure he zipped up before he got to work.

"That was interesting," Tracey said as we approached the
school gates. "I can't wait to tell Trish."

I looked at her in astonishment. "Trish!" I exploded. "You
can't tell her this. I thought you said you just made up
things for each other, to turn each other on."

She laughed. "I said that to stop you having a heart attack,
Chris," she said. "Trish is my very best friend, and I tell
her everything. Everything."

The implications of "everything" had only just begun to sink
in when we saw my best friend waiting at the school gates.
The worried look on his face that was enough already to
worry me. Tracey passed him with a casual greeting that
revealed nothing of her secret knowledge and what she had
watched him doing last night. I don't think I could have
managed it without at least a snigger. She really was good.

"Alright, Kenny," I said as soon as she had gone on. "Spill
it. What have you done?"

It seemed to be my morning for stories. Kenny told me of how
he had gone back to school yesterday afternoon with the
disc, and then the idiot hadn't been able to wait to get
home to view it again. He'd used a school computer, and got
caught. By Butcher, our year head, of all people. Butcher
had confiscated the disc. I called Kenny everything under
the sun, and a few more for not ringing to warn me last
night. He looked like eh wished a hole would open up in the
earth and swallow him, and so he should.

Sure enough, straight after registration I got a message to
report to Butcher's office. When I got there, I saw the
photos laid out on his desk. That was my first clue. I
didn't see any need to have printed them out to give me a
bollocking. The second was the way he kept looking at them
as he did his preamble to the main roasting. The glint in
his eye and the expression on his face, and the way he
couldn't keep his eyes off them. The bulge in his trousers
as he stood there over them was the clincher. I was learning
a great deal from Tracey, not ashamed to admit it, and I k
new just how she would play this.

"Secretly filming your own mother naked in the bathroom,
Chris," he was saying. "Whatever possessed you to do such a
disgusting thing?"

I looked dup at him and half-smiled. "Not just in the
bathroom, Sir," I said.

"What?"

"I haven't just filmed her in the bathroom, Sir," I said
again. "Lots of places. And not just showering. Doing all
sorts of things. You really would be amazed at some of the
things I have film of her doing." I picked up one of the
photos. "She's a very sexy woman, isn't she, Sir?"

He was looking out of his depth. "Well, of course she is.."
He started to say, but then changed direction in mid-stream.
"Chris, I really think you need to see a counsellor."

I nodded thoughtfully. "I think you may be right, Sir," I
said mock humbly. "But perhaps it would be best if you saw
all the evidence before you refer me. So you'll know the
full extent of the problem."

"Evidence?"

"The films, Sir," I explained. "All the films I've made.
These stills are just the most tame, you see."

I had him hooked, and all I need to do now was reel him in.

"Yes," he said. "I understand. That might be for the best."

"Just let me have your e-mail, Sir," I offered. "And I'll
send it all to you. Then you'll have the whole summer
holiday to study it and to consider what needs to be done."

He was flopping about in the catch net, safely landed.
Tracey would have been proud of me.

"Yes, that might be the wisest course of action," he said,
his eyes on the photos.

Kenny was waiting for me outside, looking stricken.
"Sorted," I said as I passed him.