From that day I became obsessed with my plan. I created a folder called “Dad’s stuff” and left it on the desktop. It was full of images of guys with their dicks hidden away in jockstraps, their big-lipped arseholes pouting, gaping, begging. I took a note of the last time I’d opened the folder: 2nd May. All I had to do was check each evening to see if it had been opened since and I’d know Billy had seen.

A week passed. Every time I hovered the mouse over the folder it read, “Last opened 2nd May.” A curse on my well-raised boy for respecting my privacy!

An opportunity came up in the supermarket on Saturday afternoon. A gay couple were in the coffee aisle comparing the coffees. They were one of those hyper-masculine couples where both guys were muscled, bearded, with a scattering of tattoos over bulging biceps, meaty calves. I waited until I was sure Billy had clocked them.

“I always find it fascinating that butch guys like that use their, you know…”-  I jerked my head to motion my backside - “…their bums instead of their cock for sex, you know?” I whispered to Billy after we’d passed.

Billy’s expression announced nothing. “Not all of them Dad.”

“Well, I know not all of them, but you know, one of them has to, right? I mean take those two guys there, right? They look like gladiators with their muscles and beards and stuff, but one of them has to, you know, lift his ankles for the other one in the bedroom. Hey, which one do you think it is?” I jabbed Billy in the ribs, looking back at them.

He was clearly embarrassed as hell. “I don’t know Dad,” he sulked. “Why are we even talking about it?”

“Hey, sorry Billy, don’t get annoyed.” Billy had adopted an irritated frown. “Personally I think it’s wonderful how Mother Nature grants each of us a different perspective on sex. It’s not as simple as just ‘men have cocks, women have…’” I struggled to find an appropriate word. “Well ok, I’ll drop it. Hey, you fancy Bolonaise tonight?”

—————————

That night I hovered the mouse over my folder.

“Last opened 8th May, 22:51.”

Perfect.

“We have a way of ensuring total and utter obedience in this platoon. The initiation process is to take one hundred strokes of your commanding officer’s cock every day for two weeks. If you make it to the end you’re in. Most pack their bags and disappear in the middle of the night. Even if we catch them we just let them go. They’re no use to us anyway. What it does mean is that the ones that we’re left with have a very clear sense of their role as subordinate. They’ve proved that they will follow orders without question. Those ones are the most useful to us.

“The commanding officer periodically visits the barracks in the evenings and instead of standing to attention like most platoons, the soldiers are to strip naked and lay on the foot of their beds with their legs up. It happens within a matter of seconds. The barracks will be bustling with chatter and poker games and then seconds later you can hear a pin drop as all the soldiers ‘salute’ their offficer with their legs behind their ears. He’ll free himself from his fly and slip into a few of them, talking about the events of the day’s training as he pumps away. Eventually he climaxes inside one of the soldiers and as a further test of their obedience orders them to dig out his seed and feed it to themselves. A rumour went round last year that one night he was so pleased with what he saw that he ordered the remainder of the platoon to stand over the soldier and ejaculate on his face. When the fifty-third - and last - soldier had climaxed he ordered lights out and said to the soldier, who by that point was so covered in sperm he was barely recognisable, “I want to see all that dry cum still there at breakfast, soldier.” And he left.

“So, do you still want to sign up?”

Billy and I shared the same computer. The study was tiny - you could only get a desk in there, not even a bed.

I spent the next morning searching for images of guys with gaping holes online. I left the door ajar slightly. When I heard Billy get up I kept a particularly impressive one on the screen.

“Morning Dad,” he hollered from the landing.

“Er, yeah, morning son.” I heard the bathroom door shut. I doubted highly that Billy had seen anything.

I had a brainwave. I quickly took out my mobile phone and dialled our landline number. It began to ring noisily on the landing. “I’ll get it,” I shouted. I got up from the computer thinking, “Am I really doing this?” and, leaving the study door fully open, went to pick up the phone on the landing. I pretended to have a conversation with a work colleague.

“Oh, Hi Alan, yeah, I’ll have all the paperwork done by this afternoon, just going through those final projections.” I waited for signs of Billy emerging from the bathroom. I heard the toilet flush, the water hissing in the pipes.

The lock snapped and Billy came out. I blurted at that exact second, “Oh yeah, I left it downstairs, let me just run and have a look.” I laid the receiver on its side and ran downstairs. I stood in the kitchen for what felt like an eternity, giving Billy every possible chance to see the image on the screen.

Eventually I ran back up and picked up the receiver.

“Yes, the sixteenth of June it says, probably morning but that’ll be confirmed.”

Billy was in his room. Had he even glanced into the study? All I wanted at this point was to plant a seed in his head. That’s when I hung up the phone and aimed my voice at the crack in Billy’s door. “Oh shit, Billy, you didn’t go into the study did you?”

There was a three or four second pause after which Billy said, “Erm, no Dad. Why?”

He’d seen.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Your Dad was just looking at some images he finds… interesting,” I said, congratulating myself on my choice of wording.

That night I lay awake for several hours. Eventually I gave in to the urge that was refusing to die down in me and masturbated. My dick had always been enormous - one of those slabs of meat that hangs downwards even when fully erect due to its weight. I’d slide it through both fists and it would still poke out two full inches over the top. I wet my sheets with a heavy load that came within seconds. And at that moment of climax a brainwave came to me.

 I knew exactly how to help Billy.

 Billy was never gonna have a life of sexual satisfaction with his genitals. If they hadn’t grown by now they were never going to. He’d look down his whole life to see that inadequate thing there, that thing that could please no woman, and always feel undesirable.

 What if there was something down there to eclipse his penis?

 What if we turned his arsehole into a cunt?

 I knew exactly how to go about it.

I slept with a smile on my face, half a pint of cum drying between my thighs.

That evening Billy and I ate dinner with the usual scattered conversation. I was saddened by the fact that he didn’t talk to me about his problem, though I understood how embarrassed he must be. I tried to put myself in his shoes. There was no way I would have talked to my old man about being bullied at school, let alone about something like this. I asked Billy how school was and he gave me his usual, “Yeah, fine. Nothing to report.” Billy was a bright kid and even when I had tried to help him with his homework I’d struggled more than he had and we’d laughed at how ineffective I’d been. “We can get you a tutor,” I’d said. “No need, Dad. I understand most of it anyway, it’s just a few little bits. I’ll ask Miss Bloomfield.”

That evening it occurred to me how Billy never came into the bathroom in just his underpants when I was in there brushing my teeth or showering. Always with his jeans on. And I realised I’d never seen him take a leak. Even when we were out and visited the Gents together he always went for the cubicle while I stood at the urinal.

Tonight was no different. Billy came in while I was brushing my teeth with his jeans on and went for his own toothbrush. We stood side by side, occasionally meeting each other’s glance in the mirror as we usually did. I tried my best not to let my gaze wander down to his groin. I was perturbed by how preoccupied my mind had been with it all day.

How to broach the subject? I couldn’t exactly pipe up casually, “Oh, I saw your P.E. teacher today; he told me about your freakishly small cock.”

Billy and I bumped fists in the hallway, our usual “goodnight,” and went to our separate bedrooms. He shut the door behind him. I imagined him undressing, sliding his pants down over the complete absence of bulge between his legs.

I was disgusted to realise that I had an erection.

I’d obviously seen my boy naked as he was growing up. His thing had always been tiny, but it had never been much of a concern to me. The genitals grow later on in life, don’t they? There’s a growth spurt during puberty, right?

  I was called in to the school. Invited into the headmaster’s office. The P.E. teacher was also present. “What’s this about?” I asked.

  They told me that Billy was getting bullied. The P.E. teacher leaned in and said, “They say really hurtful things to your son about his, well… I’m sure you know. In the showers.”

  I was genuinely baffled.

  ”I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied.

  They exchanged a nervous glance. Then the P.E. guy looked back at me and said in a hushed tone, as if someone else might be listening.

  ”Mr Jeffries, your son has a… tiny penis. Really small, like it looks more like a…”

  The Headmaster put a hand on his arm to stop him.

  ”We’re doing everything we can to control the bullying here at the school, Mr Jeffries,” he said “But my fear is that it’s having a deeper effect on your son, that it may be causing him… depression.”

  I sat in silence, dumbfounded. I knew Billy was the quiet type but all of this was a revelation. My boy was being bullied at school, so bad that I’d been called in to the Headmaster’s office.

  ”Do you have any questions?” the Headmaster asked after a silence.

  ”I’ll have a talk with him,” I said. “Thank you for letting me know.”

  They thanked me for my time and showed me to the door.

  I experienced a surge of rage as I left the school grounds. It was after hours and the students had already gone home. Just as well, I thought. I wanted to find the bullies and punch their lights out.

  There was one thing bothering me more than my rage at the bullies however.

  I had to see it.

“Go on, say the words.”

“I am completely dependent on your cock for sexual gratification. This thing of mine is little more than a clit.”

“That’s right, boy. Ok, let’s get those ankles of yours up behind your ears.”

Bulistan. A country with very particular views on homosexuality.

Within Bulistan’s society, homosexuality is accepted as an every day reality, dating back to ancient times. It is not frowned upon, and in some areas it is actively encouraged.

The common Western notion of ‘versatility’ in homosexual males is not understood or accepted in Bulistan society. Gay men are either active or passive. It is not within the vocabulary of the Bulistan male to be both. Such a notion would be viewed similarly to someone who believed themselves to be both genders simultaneously. It would be regarded as a curious anomaly.

In this respect homosexual relationships exist much like heterosexual ones. It is understood that the active partner will be the “man” and the passive partner becomes much like the “woman,” although such terminology is not used. The term “altub” is applied to the passive gay partner. It does not have a literal translation into English; it can be loosely understood to mean “man who renounces his genitals.” It has also been translated as “male supplicant.”

It is understood in the collective psyche of the Bulistan male that some time within the first five years after puberty, the gay male associates either with his male genitals or his “female” ones. If it is the latter he is an altub. While it is understood that some may continue to use their male genitals for masturbation past their teenage years, it is something that is not accepted and will be kept a secret. It is documented that such an altub male, while experiencing the thrill of orgasm through self-stimulation, firmly believes himself to be committing a sin. In most the feeling of guilt is so strong enough as to eclipse the desire for orgasm.

It is easy to spot an altub male. In a country of exaggerated masculinity - dark features, excessive body hair, a tendency towards a “heavyset” frame - the altub male will endeavour to tame these masculine traits. Body hair is either removed completely or trimmed to almost nothing, the musculature of the body is sculpted in such a way to draw attention, especially to the posterior.

A typical Bulistan male:

Note the excessive bodyhair:

Stocky frame:

And enlarged genitals:

While a typical altub is lean, hairless, with a pronounced posterior:

Bulistan is a country where masculinity is celebrated and the male genitals have never been a hidden or secretive thing as they are in the West. It is common to see a man sporting an erection in his linens on a crowded train or even openly freeing an erection from swimming trunks to prevent chafing on a beach.

A country that celebrates masculinity, it would be a common sight to see something like this in a neighbourhood cafe:

Westerners visiting Bulistan are often shocked at such sights in public places such as lifts and trains:

This would be a typical sight in a waiting room or barbershop as a Bulistan male casually checked his messages:

The altub male can be identified by the simple body language of one who is not proud of their genitals and keeps them as masked as possible. An erection would bring them deep shame.

“Genital erasing” underwear is commonly available in Bulistan Menswear departments:

Even in a swimwear context the altub male endeavours to “erase” his genitals as best possible:

Unlike the “ladyboy” culture of Thailand it is not a femininity that is desired in the altub male, but has been equated with a “boyishness.” Masculinity is still encouraged, though it is of the type more commonly associated with the teenager; that is to say, no longer a young boy but not yet a fully developed, mature man. It is the transitional period between the two that is recognised as beautiful. An altub male aspires to that type of beauty his whole life.

Here we see a typical altub; sculpted musculature, with bodyhair removed:

As a consequence it is easy to spot homosexual couples. It is a common sight to see one of Bulistan’s hyper masculine males - those of such exaggerated features as to have even been described as “brutish” by Westerners - with the younger altub. Beaches will see the man, typically of large proportions, covered from head to foot in dense bodyhair, genitals bulging prominently, hand in hand with the smooth athletic altub.

The union of such couples takes a particular form. Marriage is permitted on the condition that the couple connsumate their relationship by having the obsolete genitals of the altub removed or “converted;”  this is dependent on their financial situation. Modest, financially constricted couples will simply have the altub’s penis and testicles removed, and the wound stitched up, merely leaving a cleft for the passing of urine. He will continue to use the anus for intercourse.

Altubs from poorer parts of Bulistan will merely have the genitals removed. Once healed they are purely flat in the groin:

In these instances the anus is still used for sexual intercourse:

Wealthier couples will have the male genitals of the altub surgically converted into “female” ones, allowing for more traditional love-making in the vein of heretosexual couples.

Here we see a fully converted altub sporting his newly acquired genitals:

Prior to marriage the altub takes steps to make his anus look like converted genitals. A dating website would typically see the altub displaying his work for the satisfaction of the men browsing:

It is again to be stressed that the focus here is not about changing gender as in the traditional understanding of a “sex change”, but merely securing the bond between the two parties with a procedure from which there is no return. Hormone treatment, breast implants, or any other form of cross-genderisation are not invloved in any way. The altub remains male, merely having his genitals - which have been obsolete and have hung limply since shortly after puberty - removed or “adapted” to aid and encourage love-making.

The altub remains male; it is merely his genitals that are converted:

The spiritual significance of Bulistan’s approach to homosexuality echoes that of uncircumcised adult males wishing to convert to Judaism. A non-circumcised Jew is considered “spiritually cut off from God and the Jewish people,” and in order to be fully accepted into the Jewish community he will usually undergo the surgery. Here, though without the religious connotations, the relationship of the two males is not officially recognised until the surgery has been undergone. Marriage is not permittied without it and indeed, Bulistan society would view the marriage of “two penises” as abhorrent, as many of its neighbouring countries would. Once the procedure is complete the union is considered consummate and viewed as equal in every aspect to heterosexual ones.

The practice has received criticism from Western societies, branding it as “brutal”, and has been compared to the female genital mutilation seen in many societies where the clitoris of the woman is removed. Bulistan has caused uproar in Men’s Rights groups. While the procedure may shock, it is important to point out that it is entered into willingly, something that the altub male aspires to from an early age. The erogenous zones are kept intact and the altub is still able to achieve orgasm only now is completely dependent on penetration as his “G spot” is no longer external to his body.

After marriage the altub now becomes as proud of his groin as the rest of Bulistan males. It is easy to determine an official married altub, not only by the ring on his finger, but by the way in which his body language proudly draws attention to the flatness of his groin.

The married altub now displays his groin as proudly as the rest of Bulistan males:

Again, on Bulistan’s many famed beaches, the altub will wear the tiniest of speedos highlighting the complete absence of any bulge within. The juxtaposition against their partner, whose male genitals are so prominently on display, can be very striking. Many resorts will see the night-time love-making on moonlit beaches between the two males as indistinguishable from male-female couples as the missionary position is favoured, the altub underneath with legs open. It is often only possible to determine the gender of the shadowy couple by listening to the utterances that omit from them.

Here we see a typical Bulistan homosexual couple proudly highlighting their groins with the use of lycra. Note the prominient phallus of the man, the flatness of the altub:

Dad’s portrait hung above the mantel.

“The man of the house, responsible for fathering and feeding the family.”

“Thanks Dad!”