Author: Lizard69
Title: Girlfriends
Part: Part 3
Keywords: Mb, Mdom, Fdom, Humil.
Summary: Is there a mother anywhere that can resist the urge to run her kids life?

This is a work of fiction.  If you have trouble with the boundary between
fact and fantasy, don't read it.  If the story codes following the title
freak you out, don't read it.  If I mis-coded drop me a note through the
author email link at ASSTR.  Do not under any circumstances forward this
file to anyone that hasn't specifically requested it.  In case you haven't
figured it out yet this is intended as *adult* entertainment.  Do not allow
it to be accessed by minors.  If you have inadvertently downloaded it in a
jurisdiction where such material isn't legal please delete it immediately.
Do not re-post in whole or in part without this notice.  Do not repost on
any "for profit" site without my specific written permission.  Copyright
2012 by Lizard69.

   Girlfriends Part 3 (Mb, Fdom, Mdom)



   Bob nearly ran into him as Timmy froze inside the door to the kennel
supply area.

   "You're kidding right?  You don't really expect me to *wear* that?"

   Laid out in front of Timmy was a plain white blouse, cut for somebody as
flat chested as a boy, but still obviously girl clothes, not a shirt.  With
it was a pleated grey skirt, nearly knee length, real clothing, not some
micro mini.  Completing the set were knee socks and a pair of heels, only a
couple inches, lower than some cowboy boots.

   "Why not, Sport?  Fucking a cute little tomboy is fun, but if we're
pretending that I'm making a nice girl do stuff, dressing you up like a
nice girl is a good start, isn't it?"

   "I guess...  At least there isn't any girls underwear."

   "Yeah.  Well.  I wasn't sure what to buy.  A nice girl wouldn't be
wearing the skimpy lace porno stuff even if she was fucking some guy. 
Unless maybe making her wear it was part of what he was doing to her.  For
now I figure it's just as hot, maybe hotter, if you're not wearing anything
underneath."

   "Oh..."

   Bob thought it was cute when Timmy reached for his belt buckle then,
blushing, gathered up the clothes and ducked into the bathroom.  Not nearly
as cute though, as when *she* came back out.  He knew he was looking at a
boy in drag but it could just as easily have been a tomboy in unfamiliar,
"girl", clothes.  The tomboy would be just as awkward and nervous.  Bob had
to smile as he pursued the thought a little further.  The girl would be
uncomfortable at the idea of men seeing her as a potential sex partner. 
Timmy certainly didn't have *that* problem.

   "Wow.  Come over here by the grooming station.  It isn't a full length
mirror but it will give you a better idea what I'm looking at."

   If Bob hadn't already been about as hard as he could get, Timmy's
reaction to his mirror image would have got him there.  An initial cringe,
slowly replaced by fascination, before he softly muttered, "I'm gonna get
sooo raped."

   "Uh-huh, but there's no hurry.  Right now I'm kind of surprised by how
much of a kick I'm getting out of just looking at you.  You're so damn
cute. You could walk down the street like this and people would notice you
but only as a cute kid.  Some of the guys would think something like,
'She's gonna be really hot in a couple of years'.  A few pervo's would be
thinking, 'I'd play with that'."

   "Duh, I *guess*, at least until they found out I was a boy."

   "That wouldn't matter as much as you think.  A couple years from now
when you're jail bait, they'll care.  The pervs who like young kids are
looking for a cute face and a tight hole.  If there's a dick too...  the
straights will figure it's not really gay because they didn't bend you over
intending to fuck a *boy*.  The rest will get a bigger kick out of it.

   Timmy started to tremble with anticipation and maybe a little fear, as
Bob lowered his right hand and slipped it under the edge of the skirt. 
"Your thighs are so soft and silky, just like a young girl.  And you have
such a pretty little bubble butt under that skirt.  Your hardon poking the
front out like a tent only makes it a little more nasty.  You're as hot as
I am at the thought of a horny pervert raping such a sweet young girl. 
This time you don't just get to be the girl, you get to watch.  Did you get
ready for me while you were changing?  Is your tight little hole greased up
all nice and slippery?"

   "No...  I..."

   "You like it when I do that too?  It's fun sometimes.  I don't always
have a hardon and it doesn't always last as long as I'd like.  Not when I
have somebody as cute as you to stick it in.  Fingers are different.  Any
time, anywhere, they're always ready.  Sometimes I'm willing to delay my
own pleasure to watch you squirm while I'm invading your most personal,
private, place.  It's fun by itself and watching you blush as you think
about what it's leading up to is even better.

   "Today is special.  That pretty little girl in the mirror is so
different from what you usually see it's easy to pretend that it's not
really you.  At the same time you have total control over what she does and
will feel everything I do to her.  Reach behind you and lift the back of
her skirt.  Show me that she's not wearing any panties.  Oh yeah, now
spread her ankles...  farther...  That's it.  Get a grip on her naked ass
cheeks.  Don't let her skirt drop.  Open her up.  Let me see her little
pink ass hole.

   "Bend over and rest your chest on the grooming station.  That's it, only
get a little sideways so you can turn your head and watch the mirror. 
You'll see more than if we're straight on and your neck won't get tired. 
I've got nothing against pulling your hair to make you look at things you'd
rather not see, but this is going to take a while and I don't want to hold
your head up that long.

   "Ohhh yeah!  I love that involuntary flinch at the first touch of a
greasy finger on your tight little pucker.  It only takes an instant for
you to relax and accept what you can't avoid, but for that first tiny
moment your body knows what's coming and tries to get away.

   "Maybe it's more than your body reacting.  Sexual preference can be hard
to pin down but you're still mostly straight.  Being used this way can't be
easy for you no matter how much pleasure you get from being my horny little
fuck toy.  I don't care how deep you get into being the girl, that's not a
clit dangling between your thighs.  Does that thick greasy finger feel good
in your ass?

   "Yyes.  I, uh, I think I could handle two."

   "I know it.  You have before.  If that's really what you want I'll do
it. And when I have you all nice and loose and slippery, I'll pull them out
and ram my cock into you.  I'll rape my pretty little slut, hard, hot and
nasty.  I'll make you lick me clean and suck me 'til I'm ready to go again.
Then I'll fuck you 'til you can't hardly walk and slap a piece of duct tape
on your asshole to keep you from leaking on my seats while I haul you home
to mommy.  Or...  we could go with plan B.

   "What's that?"

   "I pull this single finger and finish opening you up with my dick.  We
can watch together the reflection of my hot little girlfriend as that awful
rapist slowly burrows his dick into her ass.  You can watch my expressions
of pleasure as I keep working it, fast enough to keep me hard but slow
enough to keep from cumming.  We'll stop and start.  We'll change
positions. If I go slow and easy, with plenty of lube, I can force this
sweet little girly boy to serve a pervert *all* afternoon.  By the time I
get you home, your mom will take one look at you and wonder if she still
has a son."

   "Oh God!  Please..."

   "What'll it be sport?"

   "Puh..  Plan B."

   *****

   Mary was rinsing some vegetables for dinner that Friday when she looked
out the window as the van pulled up to the curb and Timmy climbed out.  She
didn't have to be psychic, she didn't even need, "mothers intuition", to
see that something was drastically wrong.  A month ago she would have
dropped everything and met her son at the door frantically seeking an
explanation.

   Today her heart still went out to him.  Her eyes teared up until she had
to quit peeling carrots or risk peeling a knuckle instead, but she didn't
come running.  As much as she wanted to, she knew now that her only chance
to stay connected with her son was to wait for him to bring his troubles to
her.  She heard the shower start and stop, then the door to Timmy's room
close.  Telling herself it wasn't really snooping, she checked the laundry
hamper and found a blouse and skirt she'd never seen before tossed in with
the clothes her son had been wearing this morning.

   She wasn't as dazed as her son when she returned to the kitchen, but she
had some idea why he was.  At least once during her teen years a skirt with
similar stains had been part of her own laundry.  Never so *many* stains,
but then in her case there had been only one penis involved.  All she could
do is continue fixing dinner and hope that in this case it wasn't any more
than two.

   She had to threaten to come in and drag him out of his room before he
would join her for dinner.  His appetite wasn't very heavy but after he
realized she didn't intend to interrogate him he managed to relax enough to
eat.  It wasn't until she was occupied with cleanup that she found out what
was on his mind.

   "Uh, mom?  Can I ask you something kind of personal?"

   "Always hon, I may not give you an answer, but if I don't I'll at least
tell you why I don't think you need to know."

   "When you started doing stuff with boys, did you ever do something that
you felt kind of strange about...  afterwards?"

   "Timmy, there are things I did then that I *still* feel kind of strange
about, but don't expect me to give you a list.  Some of it I didn't even
tell my girl friends."

   "Oh...  Today...  At the kennel, Bob asked me to wear girl clothes."

   "I know.  The skirt is soaking.  I didn't want the stains to set."

   "Yeah, well, I guess you know then that we, uh, did it.  You know, like
I was a girl."

   "Yes hon.  From the condition of your clothes I would guess it was more
than once."

   "Uh, mom, you know how sometimes when a guy is doing stuff, he doesn't
want it to be over all at once?  Sometimes he'll kind of back off for while
and cool down before he gets going again?"

   "Uh-huh, it's called edging or edge play."

   "Yeah, well, after I dressed up he had me get in front of this mirror.
That's when things went from strange to seriously super strange.  It's like
I was watching Bob rape this really cute girl.  Part of me felt sorry for
her because she had to do that stuff with this horny pervert guy.  At the
same time I was watching her and getting so horny I wanted to rape her
myself, not like beat her up and shove it in, just, like, it's my turn now.
Only I couldn't, because the girl in the mirror had my face.  It was
already my turn.  He was doing it to me.  But it still looked like he was
doing it to somebody else and I was getting so hot watching that I...  Well
I..."

   Timmy ground to a halt, blushing furiously.  As she slowly grasped what
he was trying to say Mary felt her own cheeks begin to heat.  It got even
worse when she recalled the hopelessly inadequate version of, "the talk",
she had researched and rehearsed for the day when she thought he was ready.
Now he needed advice and his experiences were so far beyond anything she
had imagined that she had absolutely no idea what to tell him.

   "Hon, I, Uh, I'm not sure what to tell you.  How...  well, how do you
feel about it?"

   "Sick, and creepy, and scared, and excited, and uh, even a little horny,
all mixed up."

   "Well, that much I can understand.  I'd be really worried right now if
you thought you had it all sorted out.  When you were little I spent a lot
of time thinking about the things you would face growing up and trying to
stay at least one jump ahead of you.  It wasn't too hard at first and I got
better with practice.  As you got older it was much harder to guess which
way and how for you'd jump.  You're a person, not a project.  The books and
articles talk about, "normal range", of behaviors.  They rarely mention the
normal ranges of parental behavior and how kids are supposed to cope with
it.

   "I'll have to do some research before I can decide how to deal with your
latest revelations.  I'm discovering my son is a square peg.  I'm not going
to try to whittle off the rough edges and hammer you into a round hole just
so *I* can have the satisfaction of saying you're, 'normal'.  Not if it
also means you're completely miserable.  On the other hand, I'm not about
to let you run wild because I'm afraid of stunting your development.  There
are some sorts of development that can and should be stunted as thoroughly
as possible.  For now I believe the best we can do is let it settle a bit
and take it from there."

   Mary left him flipping through the channels looking for something to
take his mind off the days events.  The phone in her bedroom might have
been a better choice but the one in the kitchen was closer and she didn't
know how much time she had.  When her office number rolled over to voice
mail she thought she'd missed him, until she recalled him mentioning he
never picked up the main phone.  She rarely had to call him, never from
outside the office, but a notebook in her purse had his extension.  He
picked up on the second ring.

   "Eye Tee, how can I amuse and confuse you?"

   "Harold?  It's Mary.  Do you remember that non-business matter we
discussed a while back?"

   "Nope.  I've completely forgotten it, along with my home phone number,
SSN, and the administrative password for the network server.  Yes, I'm
pulling your leg.  It's my way of telling you that as far as anyone else is
concerned the answer would be, 'what discussion?'.  So, how is your problem
child?"

   "Rapidly becoming more of a problem and less of a child.  Were you
planning to be in the office tomorrow?"

   "I hadn't planned on it.  Is there some reason we have to meet here?  I
sometimes get the feeling I live in this place."

   "I don't suppose it actually has to be there.  I need internet access to
do some research.  It's the sort of research I'd prefer not to do from an
account that has my name linked to it."

   "Oh..."

   "Harold?  Are you still there?"

   "Ms Anderson, before you say anything else, I'd like to remind you that
all public phone lines coming into this office are recorded and
periodically monitored for quality assurance purposes.  Further, there are
strict policy guidelines in place regarding exactly how the company
resources including internet access and paid employee hours may be used. 
With that understood, let me also say that I'm a salaried employee.  As
long as I meet the obligations of my job description, I'm free to exceed
them by offering to help other employees with their personally owned
hardware.  If you'd care to bring your laptop into my work area tomorrow,
say around ten?, I'd be happy to help you configure it for any sort of
specialized research you're planning."

   "Thanks Harold.  I have to drop Timmy at the kennel but should have
plenty of time to get there by ten."

   It was nine the next morning when Mary pulled into the kennel parking
lot just as an elderly woman finished unlocking the buildings front door.
Before either of them could get out of the car she strolled over and
introduced herself as Ingrid Nordstrom, the owners wife.

   "If this is Timmy, you must be Mrs.  Anderson.  We're back a little
early.  If you have a few minutes we need to talk.  Timmy?  Bob no longer
works here.  My husband Lars it tending to the dogs.  Would you give him a
hand, please?  After I've talked to your mom we can discuss whether you
would like to continue helping out."

   As he headed for the pens, Ingrid invited Mary into the office.

   "This will be easier if you sit over here where you can see my computer
screen."

   The screen was split into a half dozen images showing several views of
the premises.  As they watched Timmy move across the one showing the supply
storage room, Ingrid moved the cursor and clicked.  That view enlarged to
fill the screen as the prior image shrank to an icon in a lower corner with
one segment highlighted.

   "Bob came to us with good references and spent several weeks getting to
know our operation before we felt comfortable taking time off.  It's been
our first real vacation since our kids got old enough to start families of
their own.  Even with the references and training we wouldn't have left if
our eldest daughter hadn't set up an encrypted link to the server here. 
We've been able to check in and observe how things were going at any time.
Notice I said *able*.  Obviously if we wanted to spend all our time
watching the kennel there would have been no need to travel anywhere. 
While we told Bob that friends would be making random checks we did not
tell him that everything happening here was being recorded.  Perhaps that
was a mistake.

   "Yesterday afternoon I logged on in time to watch certain events I'd
prefer not to describe.  My husband and I were on the next flight home. 
After informing Bob that he had the weekend off and we'd discuss longer
term arrangements on Monday, I came in here and scanned the security videos
for earlier episodes of similar activity.  Regrettably, I found several."

   She opened a desk drawer and handed Mary a case containing an unlabeled
DVD.

   "All of the incidents have been copied to this disk, deleted from the
server drives, and the blank spots overwritten so nothing can be recovered.
I will cooperate fully with any police investigation but prefer to keep our
business separated from that.  My husband has not seen these videos and I
wish I hadn't either.

   "Your son is welcome here.  In fact my husband plans to offer him a paid
position part time, pending your approval.  Please let me know your
decision on that and your plans regarding other matters as soon as you
can."

   Having made as graceful an exit as the circumstances permitted, Mary
drove to the office.  She had been a little worried that some other
employee would be catching up on loose ends, but her car and Harold's were
the only ones in the lot.  She couldn't help a tiny smile as she entered
the over sized closet the company alloted the IT department.

   "You'd better hope none of the other people drive past Harold.  If they
know we're here alone together it might start some new rumors."

   His face split in a rare grin as he replied.  "Ah, the IT queer and the
company cougar, a match made in gossip mongers heaven!  I recognize the
laptop bag but what's that in your hand?"

   "I'm told it contains security camera video files.  While the lady who
gave it to me stopped short of an explicit description, she offered to
cooperate fully with the police if I decide to make a formal complaint. 
From that I'd guess it shows Bob engaged in conduct for which he could be
prosecuted.  The only reason I can think of that she would give it to me
instead of going to the police directly is that he's engaging in these acts
with my son."

   "Oh shit!"

   "Uh-huh, and it goes downhill from there.  From the time frame and her
determined avoidance of any mention of what was happening, it includes
events Timmy wanted to discuss last night.  If so, the plastic itself
should be rotting away as we watch.  The material really must be
indestructible."

   "That bad?"

   "I don't know.  I won't know until I watch this, and I can't.  Yes, I've
seen some of what they do together when I accidentally walked in on them.
If I had known what was going on I would have been literally incapable of
forcing myself to walk in on that.  If it were anybody else's child that
wouldn't matter.  But we're talking about *my* son.  His reputation, his
health, his entire LIFE may be on the line if I'm too squeamish to confront
the situation."

   "Well, how do you intend to handle it?"

   "You're going to think I'm some kind of monster.  Last night, after he
went to sleep, I went online looking for advice.  I guess some of my
queries were broad enough that they included the sort of search terms used
by people seeking this material.  The occasional image that came up was
less upsetting than I expected.  The huge volume of warnings about using a
personal computer to download such material frightened me away before I'd
seen very much.  I realize this is a lot to ask, but could you help me find
some of this material without risking a jail term?"

   "I'll...  Be...  Damned!!  You had me so fooled.  All your talk about
tolerance, that live and let live thing.  You're just a higher grade of
basher!"

   "What on earth are you talking about!?"

   "You decide you need access to child porn.  What's the first thing you
do?  Pick up the phone and call the gay guy.  Like it's just automatic that
anyone who's left hand drive is also a baby raping scum ball.  If you'd
been looking for little girls would you still have called me, or would you
have got on the horn to the chair of the PTA?"

   Mary blushed and wouldn't meet his gaze but she quietly continued.  "I
guess I deserve some of that, but not all.  I had a computer question.  So
I called the only guy I know who is more knowledgeable about computer
systems than I am about my own son.  I don't want to look at this stuff
anymore than you do, but I think I can handle looking at somebody else's
kid.  After I've had some time to get used to it, I'm pretty sure I can
talk with Timmy about his own situation without choking.  Maybe.  Right now
I'm not even certain that you won't turn me in."

   Staring hard at her for a long minute, he finally relaxed venturing a
slightly queasy smile of his own.  "Ok, I'll buy that.  I'm sorry I went
off on you but due to both my profession and preferences it's sort of a hot
button topic.

   "There is a small but growing segment of the internet called the deep
web, or the underweb.  It's composed of a network of sites that end in
,"onion", rather than com or net.  Obviously ordinary DNS servers won't
resolve these addresses.  They're accessible only through the onion router,
and known as the TOR network.  It serves a useful, even vital purpose.  If
you're a journalist in a country where censorship begins with having your
eyelids snipped off, so you have to watch while the authorities make an
example out of you, posting your stuff where they can discover your
identity by leaning on your ISP is a very bad idea.  If you've spent two
years on suicide watch in a military prison because you leaked proof your
government was engaged in war crimes, you begin to suspect there was a
better way to forward the information.  Child porn is the rallying cry but
there's loads of information most governments don't want the sheep to have.

   "I could set your laptop up for TOR browsing but it's not a good idea.
You do NOT want any of this stuff on a system you also use for work. 
Instead I'll set you up with a Tails CD."

   "A what?"

   "Tails, The Amnesic Incognito Live System.  Remember when you first
wanted to use your laptop for work, you had to bring it in here so I could
go over it?"

   "Yes, but I still don't understand everything you told me about what you
did to it."

   "And you still don't need to.  The two most important things were to get
rid of snoop ware that was sharing information you didn't want to share,
and to encrypt your hard drive.  That way if your laptop grows legs, they
might be able to get it going with a format and reload but we won't have
confidential business information out in the wild.  If you boot off of the
tails CD and store whatever you wish to keep on an encrypted memory stick
you'll go a long way towards keeping your ass out of jail.  While I'm
burning a Tails disk for you I'll set up an encrypted stick and copy the
contents of this DVD to it.  Honestly, if it contains what you think it
does I'll feel a lot more comfortable if it hits the shredder before it has
a chance to get mistaken for something else.

   "I'll give you the addresses of a couple of link pages.  You can start
your search there.  A couple of other tips, even with TOR don't connect
from an address tied to your name.  Don't connect where some passing
stranger might be able to look over your shoulder.  Find a private place
where you can reach a public WiFi hot spot.  Register at a hotel after
looking for a room where you can reach the open WiFi of the business next
door.  If you need a technical or biological question answered I'll try to
help, but would prefer you find answers through your own research and save
asking me as a last resort.  Deal?"

   "Deal!  Uh, Harold?  Are all IT nerds this sneaky?"

   "Only the good ones.  I suspect a fair percentage of us are frustrated
secret agent wannabes.  We may not have the looks or wardrobe.  We
certainly don't get the hot chicks.  But we have a lot better idea which
direction the bad guys are going to come from."

   When Harold saw her at work on Monday he got the distinct impression
Mary hadn't spent much of the weekend sleeping.  His suspicions were
confirmed when she sought him out after the last of her coworkers had left
for the day.

   "Harold, I owe you an apology.  I had no idea of the sort of material
that is being circulated.  If you thought I believed you were one of the
people creating and distributing that filth, you had every right to be
angry with me.  Some of the worst seems to be coming from a couple of,
'members only', sites.  I say, 'seems', because it is impossible to browse
those sites without becoming a member.  Any members that repost in other
venues are immediately locked out.  A few, very few, images and preview
clips that are heavily watermarked are out as teasers to recruit new
members.  They are quite obviously samples from larger photo sets or
videos. While I suspect these sites contain the exact images I'm seeking, I
can't figure out how to become a member.  They require uploading content
flagged for administrative inspection and approval.  Can you enlighten me?"

   "Yes, but you aren't going to like it.  For their own protection these
member sites try to keep law enforcement from becoming members.  They also
try to have content that will attract the members they want.  The easiest
way to kill two birds with one stone is to require potential members to
upload new, original, content.  Sort of a, 'you don't see ours until you
show us yours', thing.  While police have access to huge libraries of smut
they don't have original content.  If they do have something unique it's
probably evidence in a current investigation.  No law enforcement agency is
going to authorize uploading any file that isn't already in wide
circulation.  The heat they would take if a victim accused them of acting
like co-conspirators would destroy any positive PR they'd get from busting
a pack of pedophiles.  Have you examined the security camera video yet?"

   "I still haven't worked up the nerve."

   "I don't know the sites you're referring to but it's a safe bet that if
you want to download content similar to what you're holding, uploading some
of what you have would get you the access you seek."

   Mary went pale at the thought.

   "You can't be serious!"

   "I didn't say it would be a good idea.  I certainly didn't suggest that
you should.  If Timmy found out you had done something like that without
even consulting him, he'd probably strangle you.  I doubt if a jury would
convict him either.  I'm simply stating that you have the price of
admission if you ever decide it's a price you're willing to pay.  Maybe you
should ask him.  Sooner or later he needs to know you have those videos
even if you never manage to watch them.  He might even pick a couple of the
milder vids and give you permission to upload them if he believes having
access to the board will help you deal with his situation.  He might want
to see what's on there himself.  He's got to be feeling like some, 'one of
a kind', kid right now."

   "I hadn't thought of that.  Thanks...  I think."

   Later that week the last of the office crowd had logged off and Harold
started the install script for the first of the software upgrades.  It was
rare for any of the regular crew to work late on Friday and by starting
early he had the whole weekend to hammer out any glitches.  The script
would run for some time and he'd picked up a magazine when he heard a tap
at his office door.  He couldn't help smiling when he saw that it was Mary.
Anything she wanted to talk about had to be more interesting than
Technology Review.

   "So, how's pedomom doing?"

   "Please don't say that, not even as a joke.  There's CP uploaded by
somebody using that alias.  I have no idea if they're actually a mother or
even female, and don't care."

   "Sorry.  Did you find out what you wanted to know?"

   "I found out more than I wanted to know in the first ten minutes.  I
kept looking anyway.  There seems to be a pattern, like different levels or
niches of this stuff.  Some of it is totally heartbreaking.  Anything
involving very young children or physical force is...  I wish I could scrub
my eyeballs.  The older kids, mid to late teens, are so cute that I don't
think it should be illegal as long as it's kids circulating the stuff
amongst themselves.  The thought of horny old pervs watching and
masturbating is, well, icky.  Of the stuff in Timmy's age group there seems
to be a lot more boys than girls.  Much of it is boys experimenting.  I'd
planned to cover that with Timmy when I had 'the talk'.  From what I've
read it isn't unusual though I'm amazed at the number of kids making
videos. If you narrow the field to kids his age having some form of
intercourse with an adult, the ratio becomes even more skewed.  I didn't
make an actual count but the impression I got was somewhere between ten and
twenty boy vids for every one featuring a man and girl.

   "Of the hard core boy vids a few are still experimentation though
obviously more advanced.  A few are forced or less blatantly coerced.  The
majority appear to be more or less consensual.  I'd like to ask you a
rather embarrassing question."

   "You can ask.  I may tell you the answer is none of your damned business
but I won't bite your head off just for asking."

   "I'm not sure exactly how to say this.  I don't want to be crude.  Of
the boys in these videos, both Timmy's age and older, there didn't seem to
be anything romantic.  I guess what they were doing was evidence of some
sort of relationship, but none of them seemed to be making love.  They were
just...  fucking.  I realize you're not some kind of expert on sex with
underage boys.  I was wondering if it was my own bias reading what I wanted
to believe into the images, or if young men actually, uh, couple that
casually."

   "Very perceptive.  I'm starting to understand why you wanted to see
others before watching the vids of your own son.  Young men, even boys, can
fall in romantic love.  It doesn't happen as often as it does to girls but
it isn't unknown.  However, the biological side of puberty is much stronger
for boys.  They are much more oriented towards physical sensation than deep
feelings.  Girls his age use sex to try to win an emotional commitment. 
Boys his age do whatever, 'relationship maintenance', they need to get sex.
Things start to even out by the time everyone is into their twenties.  Have
you looked at the other videos yet?"

   "Yes.  I finally worked up the nerve to look at the first one.  Timmy
wasn't thrilled to find out that they exist.  He wasn't as upset as I
thought he would be about me watching.  For the record, yes it was
consensual, though I had to ask him in order to be certain.  There was no
sound on the recording.  And no, it wasn't exactly romantic.  Not
surprising really.  From what he tells me that first video was actually his
first time.  If so he did better than me.  At least his first experience
resulted in an orgasm.  Uh, more than one before they finished.

   "He didn't really pitch a fit until I suggested the possibility that I
might want to show it to somebody.  We tossed it back and forth for a while
and, 'compromised', on what I actually wanted from the start.  I've edited
a five minute clip, cropping it down and blacking details that might
identify people or place.  While I no longer *need* to see one of those
members only sites, the knowledge that it's there and I'm locked out is so
aggravating I'm willing to take a chance.  I know I'm asking a huge favor,
and I'm not sure I'd want to know what you think of me right now, but would
you view the clip and make sure it really is as anonymous as I believe it
to be?"

   "You want me to look at child porn?  A video of your *son*?"

   "I want to make sure that nobody *else* could possibly identify who or
where he is from the clip, before I put it anywhere I'll lose control of
it."

   "Well, when you put it that way I guess I could help you out, for his
sake if not your own."

   "Thank you.  Uh, if it isn't too much trouble, there's one other thing.
If it's possible to tell from the video could you give me your impression
of whether my son is straight or gay?"
   End Part 3