daddysdirtystories:“My Dad was gone on a business trip. Mom called me over to help clear out
daddysdirtystories: “My Dad was gone on a business trip. Mom called me over to help clear out some old junk they had. I owed her and honestly…it had been a long standing goal of ours to trash some of Dad’s junk. He saves everything. We spent a full day clearing out their closet and we found nothing important at all. 100 unused pens, 3 boxes of out of date business cards, old floppy disks for software we can’t run anymore, etc etc. It was nothing but junk to trash. Mom and I wrote everything down on a giant list before we threw it out. This way Dad would yell and argue but he’d shut up soon enough. Near the end of the day Mom got tired so I decided to clear the last few boxes out myself. There were only a couple left so it wasn’t a big deal. It was just more junk…until I got to the very last box. Inside it was a series of old VHS tapes. For all I knew they were probably just decade-old recordings of sports we could trash. I really wanted to finish this in one day so despite Mom being asleep already I hauled the huge, heavy box of tapes downstairs. It’s my Dad so of course he had a VCR player in the basement still. 30 minutes of swearing and 4 youtube videos later I had it hooked up and playing. The tapes weren’t sports though. They were all tapes of me. Tapes of me suntanning outside, taken from an upstairs window. Tapes of me sleeping on the couch. Tapes of me sleeping on my bed. I skimmed through 6 fucking VHS tapes and every single one of them were creepy spy videos my father made of me. None of them were of me in the shower, or with a boyfriend or doing anything perverted. My father didn’t even touch me. He just watched, and sometimes I’d hear heavy breathing and…soft cock-jacking sounds…but he never filmed the actual act. I took the box of tapes and the VCR player back to my place and cried myself to sleep. The next day I told Mom I threw them out already, saying I didn’t bother to check. Dad could yell at me if he wanted but…I knew he’d be relieved that I lied and said I didn’t watch them. I’m still not done watching the tapes. I’m only halfway through them. Every night I load one up and watch myself, for hours. I listen to my Dad’s heavy breathing and then either cry or think up revenge fantasies. More and more though…I watch to try to catch him angling the camera down. I want to see my pervert father’s cock. I want it as 100% proof of what he’s doing. He’s careful but I’m sure I’ll find it. I’m obsessed. I tell myself that this is for my own good. It’s me on film. I deserve to know what happened. I lie to myself and say that it doesn’t turn me on, that it’s just a natural reaction to this sick…sick…whatever it is. Each time I get too turned on I pause the video, and pull up the first porn I can find. I won’t let myself masturbate to Daddy’s tapes yet…that’s too wrong…too fucked up. I can’t cum listening to my father jack off to my sleeping body. Fuck. I’m not like him. I’m not a sick, depraved fuck…but… God, why does it get me so wet?” -- source link