AYJW

Parrot Trick Training

Poicephalus

Parrot Forum

Father,
Since long I’ve been sitting here thinking about the right words. Things I could say to you. Things to make you *understand*.

I guess you never did, though. All these years you never tried to figure out how I felt, never tried to see behind the blonde boy, standing before you, stripped. I’m not denying that I loved it. It hurt so much and yet it felt so good to be loved.

Because those were the only moments when you truly loved me, weren’t they? Though your touches were anything but gentle. It took me some time to realize that I would never be more to you than a toy. Not at all different from all your other toys.

When you first looked at me that way, I thought it was normal. I thought, every daddy looked at his son that way. Being only 10, I confused lust with love, hunger with tenderness. And I thought it was all right to let you touch me anywhere you pleased, because that was the way daddies behaved towards their sons, wasn’t it.

You kissed me so softly. My first kiss. My first time to be touched by another person *down there*. It was our great secret. Don’t tell mom!, you used to say to me afterwards. And I never did, anxious that our secret intimacy would be invaded and anxious that you might never look at me again.

I so wanted to please you! No one ever made me feel the way *you* made me feel. Though it was painful. You being so big and I being so small and tight and not used to this. But I never dared to tell you. I just let you have your way with me and when you finally came inside me, screaming my name, I knew I’d never be able to hate you for it.

It was only afterwards that I cried. Alone. Empty. Sometimes still aroused, because you never waited for me. It was my own fault if I didn’t catch up with you. I would sit in the bathroom, door locked, jerking off and in my desperation I thought that next time it would be different. Next time you’d really make love to me, not barely fuck me on the desk or the floor or anywhere you liked.

But next time was just the same. One time I came into your hand just before you climaxed. I thought you’d be so proud of me. I thought you’d probably kiss me again, like you used to do when I was younger. I so missed the way you used to kiss me. And remember what you did? You slapped me in the face. You said Look what you’ve done! You’ve ruined my robes, stupid boy. And I was only fourteen.

Of course you never said sorry. Of course you never tried to comfort me, like saying that it wasn’t that bad, that you had just overreacted. You merely told me to clean up the desk and get ready for dinner.

Sometimes you wouldn’t even touch me. You’d just sit in front of me, watching me jerk off and working on your own erection. I guess you never saw the tears in my eyes, or if you did, you probably misinterpreted them as pleasure.
Over the years I grew colder inside. Numb. But never numb enough to be indifferent towards you. And I hate you for this.

And I love you so much. You’re my father, my daddy, my lover and my saviour. You protected me from any harm, anxious that your little toy might be broken and become useless.

I must pause here, for I feel a tear in my eye and I promised myself that I wouldn’t cry today. Foolish sentimental brat! you’d call me when you heard me whining. I guess you were right.

When I was eighteen you found me a girl and told me to marry her. And being the compliant son, ever eager to please you, I did so. And like you never loved my mother, I never truly loved my wife. It was *you* I loved, *you* my mind was still obsessed with. But you had lost your interest in me, when I matured.

Once I tried to seduce you, when we were alone at home. I undressed in front of your eyes, touching myself the way you used to like it. You only stared at me and told me to get dressed again. Your cold voice hurt even more then that slap in my face long ago. You barely looked at me from that day on and when you did, the hunger and the lust had turned to disgust and, worse yet,  indifference. I was worthless now.

How deep your poison had streamed into my veins I only realized weeks ago, when I caught myself staring at my own son the way you used to stare at me.
You understand now, that I *had* to do it. It was the only way to deliver me from your ill spirit. Because I will never be like you.

I will never push my son away. The love he gives me is so sweet and pure and he should be rewarded for this. Because that’s the way daddies should behave towards their sons.

When I come to you tonight to place this letter on your chest and kiss you farewell, the poison will already have bittered your lips. Do not hate me for this, father. For I had to do it.
I will always love you.
Your son