Description: Kyousuke's father tries to educate his son in the ways of love.
Disclaimer: Don't own PTKITD. No duh.
Ignorant
By Stumble
Since the day young girls learn not to talk to strangers, they are also brainwashed into fearing men.
"Stay away from them," warn mothers. "If a stranger comes up to you and asks you to come with them, don't go. You run and tell me what happened. Run to me; I will protect you."
Because of this fear installed in their mind, most girls never lay their eyes on a man's parts until late in their teenage years. Some even develop a sort of hatred of men; a fear turned loathsome by strict obedience to their parents. In this way, if a young girl were to be suddenly exposed to a naked man, she would scream in horror, not understanding what she is seeing, only knowing it can be used against her; rape, death, fear – run home, girl, run home...
But there are also the bad girls and boys, sheltered their whole lives, who, wanting to find out everything for themselves, search the Internet for "things unseen," where they learn everything they shouldn't, and lose themselves in a poisonous addiction to graphic smut and gore. In the future, nothing will scare them more than a parent browsing their search history.
...
A man of good intentions stands alone in the hallway, his brain churning, eyes seeing things that are not there.
Yes; it would be best to teach their daughter now than never; it would be for the greater good. His wife would never understand his intentions, so it would have to be done in secret.
Licking his lips, the man turns on his heels and faces the girl's bedroom. Then he remembers: her room is empty. "Not today..." he tells himself in a feverish whisper. The girl was always out shopping with her mother. But the boy...
The man turns his head slowly in the direction of the other child's room. The door is cracked open slightly; he can hear the boy talking to himself, pretending. Innocent. Ignorant.
Surely he could benefit from learning about himself at an early age? Would it not be better if he saw his own parts as another limb, and not a thing to be used against women? Some boys even believe, at one time or another, that a penis is a bad thing; a deformity. On the day they find out girls do not have one they call it "missing," which causes the girls to believe there is something wrong with them.
With clenched teeth, the man mutters under his breath in the hallway, "But there's nothing wrong with either gender. Both girls and boys are beautiful little children who have yet to grow into adults." He continues this one-sided conversation in his head. They are ignorant until they are set straight- better now than when they are too arrogant to listen. Yes. I must save my children from their own arrogance; I must show them that true love is made from understanding, and sexual love is from feeling; they have very little connection.
Even the love between two brothers can be stronger than that of two lovers, he concludes to himself. It is the ability to relate and save each other from themselves that make their relation strong, not how frequently one enters the other through intercourse. Love isn't something you can physically feel. It is beyond that. He smiles to himself. "Now how can I put that into terms a five year old might understand...?" he asks himself.
He shakes his head. No matter. I must try, no matter how much may pass over his head. He walks over to the door and gently eases it open. The boy sits with a dozen dolls and robot toys surrounding him; a small cluster of army-men set stands on-guard around his bare feet. Something bright catches the man's attention, and he looks down, meeting the dead gaze of a green-eyed male doll.
He picks up the green-eyed doll and examines it. It is wearing a pink sweater, though it's clearly a man with its hard-set plastic features and short hair.
He's wearing pink: is that why Kyousuke isn't playing with him..? And since when did the color of roses become the color worn only by women? he wonders. Wordlessly, he places the doll into his son's lap.
Frowning, the boy says, "Ew, that a girl's toy!" he tosses the doll to one side. "I don't like him."
The man gasps. It's too late! He's already been corrupted by ignorance! His heart pounding in his ears, he stands up, his feet curling into the woolen carpet. "What about him do you not like, my dear?" he asks tensely.
"He has pink!" replies the boy. "That's for girls."
The man's teeth snap shut. His fingers twitch at his sides, sweat forming along his hairline. Pink is the color of cherry blossoms, of rebirth! What else is pink... I must show him... I must!
Then a wonderful idea rolls into his mind. Throwing his arm out in front of his son, the man places his other hand over his wrist and digs his fingernails sharply into his own skin. Gritting his teeth, he presses harder and twists his fingers slightly, cutting deeper.
"P-Papa!" stammers the boy. "What are you-?"
The blood begins to run down his hand, and the man quickly wipes it up his arm, turning the fluid from deep red to an almost pink-like hue as it dots along his skin. The smell is rich and distinctive; he sighs in contentment, and then looks his son in the eye. "What color is blood?" he asks.
"Red..."
"Yes." He trails his fingers along the pinkish smears. "And this color?"
"...pink."
"Pink is just like red, only in its lightest form. All colors have different hues, my dear; just like people, we do not judge or label them for being different. The color of something does not define the thing itself."
The boy appears to thinks about this for a little while, then bends over himself, reaching, and retrieves the sweater-wearing doll. He looks it over, then laughs. With bright eyes, he looks at his father and says, "You didn't have to cut yourself to teach me that! Silly!"
Relieved, the man laughs along with him. "Ah, I guess you're right about that. Sorry."
"You need a Band-Aid when you bleed," says the boy. "A Band-Aid and kiss to make it feel better."
The man covers his wound with his hand, wrapping his large fingers around it. "It's just a scratch." he tells him gently.
The boy passes his father the girl doll he was playing with. "Wanna play with Izumi? I wanna play with Mira." As the man takes the doll, Kyousuke points to it, saying, "That one's Izumi, this one's Mira! They are very best friends."
The man squats down. "Friends, ka..."
"Uh-huh... They do lots of fun stuff together. I used to not like Mira, but now I do." The boy smiles. "I like pink now, too."
The man falls silent, fighting himself. It's not or never; this isn't play time; you must teach him, or else you may never get the chance. "Kyousuke..." he says quietly.
The boy ignores him.
"Kyousuke?" he says louder.
"Yes, Papa?" The boy gives him his full attention.
The man pulls down his pants nervously, his hands trembling with shame of his actions; he drags his underwear down with his jeans, and carefully holds his penis out for the boy to see.
"Wow, Papa- yours is lots bigger than mine!"
"Do you know what this is?" asks the man too quickly.
"A winkie?"
"Yes." The man swallows a lungful of air, his stomach clinching in tension. "The adult-term is "penis." What do you use it for?"
"A penis?"
"Yes. What do you do with it?"
"Go pee pee."
"When you are older," explains the man, "your penis gets much larger, like Papa's is, and it becomes much more sensitive. You can feel things with it, like how you feel things with your fingers. You will also start to drip out white from your penis; that will be the day you turn into a grown-up."
"Really?"
He nods, then runs a finger along his dick, showing the extent of the member to his son. "This is used to make a loving family. It is how we made you, Mommy and I. But you must only use it to honor your wife. God does not look kindly to those who use it poorly. It is a gift. Like you."
"When I use it with my wife, will she be a mommy like my Mommy?"
The man laughs quietly. "Yes. Yes, but you can only use it when your bride wants you to. It is a choice both of you must make together. It creates a family, but only if used out of love."
"Hm..." Kyousuke looks down at himself, then stands up. He pulls the elastic of his panties and privately checks his own penis before saying, "It's not very big right now...But when it gets bigger, I'll be a big boy, right?" Kyousuke lets go of the panties, a quick snap sounding as the linning smacks against his flesh.
The man opens his mouth to agree, then closes it, feeling slightly ill. What exactly is he agreeing to? Is this madness- to try and teach a boy about sex? The man's next words tumble out of his throat numbly; "Do you know what sex is?"
"Uh..." Kyousuke smiles. "It's when a daddy puts a baby in a mommy's tummy."
"And what is love, then?"
"It's...when a man feels very happy when he's with a lady and he can't stop thinking about her. And the lady likes being thought about, so she's happy too."
"Close enough..." Kyousuke's father sighs. "I really don't know how to explain anything... I guess you could always find out stuff on your own through the internet when you're older..."
"Papa?"
"Huh? Yes?"
"How do you give a mommy a baby?"
Faster than a machine gun, the man reaches up and grabs onto his own dick, squeasing it. I have to do this. He tells himself. No- it's immorral! His hand begins to rub his length. How else will he learn? This is the only way he will learn the truth. He must not be ignorant.
"This.." the man says, sweat gathering on his forehead. "I'll show you the white liquid which comes out when you are going to enter your bride; but you must never try this yourself until you are older. Do you understand?"
The boy nods, watching his father jerk off before his eyes. He points and says, "Your hand is going a lot fast."
The man moves faster, working his fingers into the thick member, causing friction- burning his hand with his own body heat. A droplet of sweat crawls down the side of his face. He opens his mouth to pant.
"Are you okay, Papa?" he asks.
"Yes, I'm fine; this is what happens to your winkie when it is making a baby inside a mommy. The white stuff- it was you at one time."
"What white stuff?"
The man slows down his hand, then rests it at the head of his penis, catching the squirts of thick semen as it shoots out of the tiny hole in the center. Breathing hard, the man says, "That white stuff." Groaning with shame, the man closes his eyes and lays down in the floor.
Curious, the boy leans forward with a twitching hand, wanting to touch the ooze that mysteriously bubbled out of his father's winkie.
Ding dong!
With a loud yelp, the man jumps up, jerking his pants back on with thoughtless haste; he hobbles around akwardly until he is able to zip up his pants, then he begins wiping the cum off onto his pants like a mad man trying to get rid of invisable dirt.
"Never speak a word of this!" begs the man with a horrorfied expression. "All I said and showed you is for you to create your own family; nothing more. Say nothing to Mommy!"
"Okay, Papa."
Ding dong!
"Damn it!" he growls through clenched teeth. "Why haven't they come inside yet?" With a short gasp, he pervertedly rethinks of his words and blushes.
"You gots to unlock the door," the boy tells him. "I got it!" he says suddenly, running out of the room.
Standing there, he sins and anxiously awaits punishment. "What horrors have I shown him?" he whispers weakly to himself. "Will he remember any of this? Or will he repeat all of it as soon as he can to his Mother in his excitement? Oh, Kyousuke..." He walks out of the room, dragging his feet, and watches as his daughter and wife walk inside the house with supermarket bags, smiling and full of life.
Among them, Kyousuke hops around them asking if he can help, and then talking about how "Papa and I had lots of fun playing together."
With a smiling face, the wife looks up at her husband and smiles proudly. Tonight, we should celebrate our happy family by going out to dinner- just the two of us. She walks up to her husband and kisses his lips. We are truly blessed, she thinks to herself.
So later that evening, the couple go out for dinner, leaving the children behind, deeming them "responsible enough to care for themselves," though the husband was more nervous than she was. But when everything goes smoothly, the couple goes out to eat again the following month. Then the next. And the next.
By now, they have a very smooth, relaxed routine of coming come, playing with the children, and planning their next get-away dinner as a celebration for their blessed lives. The children are always so well behaved, and one night away once a month seems to have no effect on them- not that they knew of.
However, the girl developed a habit of studying her favorite actresses from reality shows; obsessing about her looks, her voice, and her natural talents, and the boy took to watching cooking shows until bedtime, where he would lay awake on the floor with his dolls all around him, and he would play with his newly discovered penis until the headlights of his parent's car cut through his bedroom window.