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Vicky The Pervert Pt 3 The Secret In Vicky's Room	By : Wendell Urth Category: +1 through F > Fairly OddParents Views: 3471 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: The Fairly OddParents and all associated characters belong to their respective creators and owners, not me. I receive no compensation whatsoever for this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Secret In Vicky's Room
- 1
Vicky the Pervert Part 3, The Secret In Vicky’s Room
Disclaimer: The Fairly OddParents and all associated characters belong to their respective creators and owners, not me. I receive no compensation whatsoever for this story.

When Vicky had moved in, part of the terms the Turners had been eager (forced) to sign included building an addition to the house. So, the parents had their own room, Vicky had her own and Timmy did too (it was no ones business where he actually slept… or when she allowed him to sleep). Vicky had originally planned on taking the parents bedroom since it was the largest, but eventually settled for the newly constructed one where the garage had been. There were actually three new rooms. Her bedroom, the study room where Timmy was home schooled and a small office for Vicky.
The walls were soundproofed.
The windows were covered by black out curtains and could not be opened.
The doors each had three locks that only she could open.
The office still had the original concrete flooring from the garage and under the place where her desk sat, under the thick throw rug was the original drain which had been sealed off from the rest of the drainage system.
At the bottom of the drain, which could only be reached by unbending a wire coat hanger by someone with a long skinny arm (and much practice) was a small metal container with a loop on the lid.
Vicky had sworn fifty times to leave the container where it was and forget about it forever. A time capsule of debauchery, violation and possibly murder!
And after breaking her oath fifty times, she swore to destroy the contents of the container fifty more times…
She fished out the container and the precious deadly thumb drive it contained.
She locked the doors, closed the curtains. No one would disturb her… no one would dare!
She settled back into her bed to view the video file.

Vicky hadn’t showered. She liked the feel of her sweat soaked skin. She would later. Afterwards.
Besides the thumb drive, she had brought 2 items into her bed with her. The leather wrapped swagger stick and her great grandfathers SS Officer’s hat. They were the only things belonging to the old man that she had. The rest of her outfit came from BDSM sales and sex shops. The corset was originally purchased by Mr. Turner at the start of their affair when she was 15. It still fit, though tighter than ever which was a good thing! She found the boots in an Army Surplus store. There were dark red stains on the tips, permanently soaked into the leather.
It might not be blood.
Well, she did have something else from the old man. She looked down at the three heavy silver rings two which pierced her labia and one on her clit. They had originally been his war medals which she had melted down to cast the thick rings. She wanted something of his next to her at all times. Something intimate. There was no way she could wear his medals and she was sure the old man would forgive her if he knew the use they had been put to. The thickest one was engraved with his name. Not the one the Americans had given him, but his original German name. No records of his Nazi service under that name existed. The CIA had been thorough.
In Vicky’s twisted mind, a little piece of the old man lived on, resting on her cunt. It inspired her.
The leather wrapped swagger stick was nearly 20 inches long, a brass mushroom shaped handle at one end with the faded pattern of a swastika and a wicked lead four-sided shaft at the other. She bet great grandad never imagined the use she got out of it… or maybe the old pervert did!
But her prize possession was his SS Officers cap. Although otherwise completely naked now, it rested on her chest. Just above her pointy titties. She enjoyed just staring at the Iron Eagle bearing the Nazi crest in its talons. Claws. Below, on the brim the grinning skull and crossbones, the Death’s Head. She lifted it up, kissed the grinning skull and put the hat on her head.
Time for the show!

Scene: Interior of a small cabin stateroom. A single bed fills most of the space except for a couple of chairs, a bedstand and a small porthole. It is nearly night.
One camera focusing on each side of the bed from slightly different angles. A third camera pointing straight down from the ceiling. The entire room is covered.
A young boy sitting up on the bedspread. Clearly tired, clearly bored out his mind. Except for meals he has been locked in that cabin for 3 days. Alone. “Some family vacation!” he mutters to himself.
He is surprised when the door is unlocked and a red headed teenager dressed in shorts and a green t-shirt enters and sits on one of the chairs.
It is clear he doesn’t like her. He doesn’t trust her. But he has no one else to talk to. No one to play with… and for a change she is being friendly. They are soon laughing and joking.
Vicky had turned the sound down, but she has memorized every moment of the video. She is supplying the dialogue word for word for both of them. The swagger stick is resting untouched on her pussy and between her breasts… for now. The weight feels… feels good. You could easily beat someone to death with just a couple of swings. It is a very heavy stick. Then she kisses the brass knob on the swastika.
“How young he looks here.” She thinks, “Was it only a little over a year ago?”
In the video Vicky takes a carafe and pours the boy a glass of… something.”
He looks at it suspiciously, sniffs it and makes a face but drinks when she hands it to him. He splutters for a moment, you could see it tasted funny on the way down. She coaxes him to drink more… perhaps she will go away if he doesn’t do as she says. You can see it on his face. He finishes the glass. Hiccups.
She pounds him gently on the back. Laughter.
They laugh some more, they stand by the porthole and watch the sunset. He is stumbling around a little. She hands him some tablets and he swallows them with another full glass… of something.
Vicky turns the volume up so she can hear him now, but she continues to speak along with herself on the video. She is holding the swager stick now, gently drawing it up and down her slit. The thick leather braiding gleams with moisture. Its like bowing a cello!
They are laughing, Vicky on film is watching his face as intently as Vicky in real life is. There is a confused, but goofy look on his face.
“Hey Timmy, ever seen one of these before?” Vicky has pulled her green t-shirt over her head and throws it in the boy’s face. It takes a moment for him to swat it away, he is strangely uncoordinated. He goggles at the sight of Vicky’s exposed tits.
Vicky is chuckling. No matter how many times she has seen this scene, the look on his face is priceless. Fear, he tries to look away and can’t. He is paralyzed, panic-stricken. He has forgotten how to breathe.
She is now tapping the swagger stick on her mound lightly, gently pounding her clit.
For the 50^th time in her life she thinks, “He doesn’t know whether to shit or go blind!”
She crawls on top of him in the small bed, waving her pointy pink titties back and forth. He tries to scramble back in panic but she is on top of him now, her hands on his shoulders trapping him below her. She alternates bouncing her perky pink titties off his face with smacking them against his head from side to side.
She stops moving. He continues to struggle for a moment then stops. She rests one fat pink nipple on his lips and commands him to kiss it.
“Kiss it. Kiss it little boy. You know you want to…”
Whether he wanted to or not is not the point. “Lick it, lick them both. Now,” she commands.
He does as he is told. Then he does more than he was told. He begins to suck as she gently lifts him and cuddles him to her breasts.
The swagger stick is tap, tap, tapping now. A drum beat of pleasure is building inside of her.
She lets him go. “Did you like that, Timmy? Do you like playing with Vicky’s titties? I bet you do…”
He is unable to speak, his eyes are everywhere at once. They roll around in his head, but always return to one breast or the other. Fear and lust are consuming him.
Vicky sits back on his bed, she begins to run her hand up and down his thigh. He is shaking nervously, uncontrollably. For a moment he is unable to summon a rational thought. “Mom… mom and dad… wha-what if…?” he is unable to finish the thought.
She leans close and whispers something in his ear that the microphones did not pick up. Vicky in real life supplies the words. “Your mom and dad are asleep. Why should we care what they think, they don’t care about us! Why did they lock you in here if they cared?”
The audio doesn’t capture it, but Vicky knows what she whispered. “We’re going to do the same thing that they do in secret, isn’t that what you want to do too?” She is bringing him into her world.
It wasn’t a complete lie. They were asleep. They’d been doing magic mushrooms for the last three days while Timmy had been locked in his cabin and Vicky had slipped them enough other drugs that they weren’t able to move, yet less object to anything she did to their adopted son.
Vicky paused to video for a moment. The mushroom shaped tip of the swagger stick was the perfect size and shape and just a little bit of pressure allowed it to slip into her love tunnel. She bucked up and down a few times as she pumped it into herself. After a quick intense orgasm she pulled it out of her twat with a slick pop. She twirled the brass head in front of her nose and sniffed the sweet musky odor for a moment. Then licked it like a lollypop. She wondered if old great grandad knew how perfect the head of his swagger stick was for fucking sweet little girls like her. “Probably.”
Closeup frozen on Timmy’s confused face. Vicky prepares herself for the next scene.
“Take off your clothes Timmy, lets both get comfortable. She helps him to his feet. He stumbles again, though not from the motion of the boat. He is unable to unbutton his shirt. He looks at her, not able to comprehend his loss of coordination.
She laughs and yanks his shirt open sending buttons in every direction (one of the cameras shudders from a direct hit). They laugh. Clothes are flying now in every direction. He is stunned by the sight of her shaved pubs and protruding pouty pussy lips. “Ohhhhh!” He sighs. He has never imagined that a woman looked like that.
Vicky (real and on video) is staring intently at bulge in his underwear. He is suddenly shy, unable to imagine stripping off this last bit of protective clothing. They begin to wrestle. He is trying to get away but she is relentless. He doesn’t realize that she could easily overpower him, but it has turned into a wrestling match. A tickle fight with a squirmy naked teenage girl controlling him. He is giggling hysterically as she finally wrestles the tighy-whities off his skinny legs.
He looks down in surprise at his smooth ball sack and hairless scrotum. He does not understand why or how it became so stuff all of a sudden. Her face is very close, her breath is warm. A kiss, a lick, a slobber and suddenly he finds he is enjoying her attention more than he can possibly say.
Vicky pauses the video. She studies her own face on the screen. There is hunger. There is desire. “Is it love?” she wonders, “Or just lust?”
The video starts. She is lick, lick, licking. Saliva dripping obscenely. Truth was Vicky hadn’t had much experience with blow jobs at that point. They were nasty and not her kink at all. Not back then. She sees the eagerness on her face. Timmy is in another world in spite of or because of the drugs. But it is a world of pleasure. He focuses on her face as she accepts his cock into her mouth. A second later both his tiny smooth testicles disappear behind her greedy sucking lips as well.
The video is stopped again.
Timmy is bigger today, his cock is more rugged, veins have appeared. Vicky is saddened. She loved the smooth hairless simplicity of a year ago. His ball sack is bigger too, more wrinkly, fuller. Vicky doubts she could take his entire package in one gulp anymore. But she will try. Later.
That is where she froze the scene. She remembers how it felt to be pressed so tightly against him. His hands flew instinctively to sides of her head, but whether to push her away or try to hug her closer, she has no idea.
A one second advance. Another.
Panic on his drug addled features. Teeth. He feels the edge of her teeth on the top of his scrotum and at the base of his balls. Suddenly she resembles a shark. Neither of them is breathing now.
Vicky couldn’t see his face at the time, but she has fallen in love with the image she sees on the screen. Three, four, five seconds of unendurable horror and desire on his features. She has never quite seen this expression again, but she would sell her soul to do so... if she still had a soul, that is.
She knows that he is torn between two extremes.
He wants to feel her bite down, to enjoy a moment of ultimate suffering.
He wants her to release him, to free him from his torment.
Both desires at the same moment. A moment of crisis… A moment of ecstasy for the boy and the teenage girl who is destroying his innocence.
She begins to apply more pressure, but only for a moment as her tongue begins to explore his sexual organs. Licking and poking and exploring. Her tongue lathers his genitals.
Timmy doesn’t know what is happening, clearly, he has never cum before. He tries to push Vicky away, maybe he thinks he is going to pee? But she is locked on tight. Vacuumed sealed!
She is unable to tell him to relax, that what is happening to him is normal. Truth is, she wouldn’t reassure him if she was capable of speech. She could feel his body shake in panic. It was luscious! His fear, his lust.
It was difficult to tell, even with three cameras in the cabin that Vicky had several fingers buried to the hilt in her pussy. She laughs at herself now, knowing that she would have fist fucked herself at that moment if she had been capable!
She wasn’t using fingers now, the heavy lead base of great granddad’s swagger stick made a good substitute. It was cold and hard and unyielding. Like being fucked by The Terminator.
A little harder and she’d damage herself permanently. A lot harder and she’d bleed to death. She hopes her great granddad can see how she fucks herself with his stick, his staff. She can almost feel his ghostly hands on top of hers urging her to the last extreme thrust.
She cums hard. Angry and hard.
On screen Timmy suddenly began to jerk, to quiver as he came, erupting in three quick bursts - Chugga-chugga-chugga. The stream was thin and weak. After all, it was his first time. Vicky had hoped for more, as she opened her mouth and he collapsed backwards in an ecstatic sprawl on the bed.
She had planned to spit it out. The few times she had blown guys, she had been disgusted, nauseated and quickly spit out their goo. Once in the guy’s face. She earned herself a punch in the mouth for that, he earned four flat tires and some coke planted in his locker and a call to the police.
But not this time.
She was surprised at the texture on her tongue. The taste. This was the essence of Timmy Turner. She couldn’t spit it out! They locked eyes on each other.
Vickie began advancing the video one half second at a time. Click. Click. Click. Click
Stop.
There.
That was the moment.
Timmy Turner… The sex, the bondage, the violence, the corruption was all in furtherance of her desire to destroy him and throw him away. It would have ended with his eventual death, once the money was under her control.
But at this moment, everything changed. She loved him… somehow, she loved him in her own twisted, sick way. In conquering him, he had conquered her. Oh, she still would bend him, break him until he was as foul and corrupt as she was. But he would be totally dependent on her. Now and forever. He would grow up to serve her needs in every way.
She let this first mouthful of precious boy juice slide slowly down her throat. It had lingered on her tongue so she could savor every drop of ‘Chateau de Timmy’s Soul’. And the vintage just kept getting better!

Wendell’s note: Let’s not go overboard… Ahh, let me rephrase that, given what’s about to happen…
Let’s step back from this diseased love-fest for a moment. Vicky’s number one desire in life always was, always will be the money. Control of the estate… Everything else comes second… if that. As much as she now wanted Timmy as a permanent fixture in her life, she’s gladly stuff him down that drain in her office if it meant access to the money. In fact, that’s not too different from the original plan after Tootie married him.
The difference is now she might regret it. Might... while on the beach in some far-flung luxury resort in a country without extradition.
But if she could avoid killing him…? Well, maybe.
Back to the video…
W.U.

Timmy is laying on his back. A goofy grin on his face. From the drugs? His first blow job? The sight of his naked babysitter standing near him after three days of near sensory deprivation and loneliness? Yeah… all of that.
All shyness is gone. His young cock is sticking straight in the air and bobbling slightly as he flexed his belly and groin muscles. He is playing with himself. He looks at Vicky and is giggling.
They share the moment. She slowly climbs on top of him, on his chest. He reaches for her tits and she lets him play with them, squeezing, feeling the soft firmness. He is amazed at how the nipples feel and respond to his touch.
Vicky lets the video play on without stopping. Minutes go by. She is holding his hands now and begins to sidle forward, pressing first his chest then his throat under her weight. He does not panic… or not much as her shaven puss inches closer and closer to his face. He has no idea what to do.
She is already very wet, you can see the trail of her excitement reflected in the overhead lights as she creeps across his body. She hadn’t planned this, but he owed her this for the blow job. She perches on his chin and thrusts her pussy on his mouth and commands him to “Suck”. His eyes go wide, but he is incapable of refusing her anything.
She is wiggling her ass on his face, grinding in, twerking. He is clearly struggling to breathe but does not stop. Vicky rewinds and watches the same moments over and over. Her eyes on screen are closed, she is deeply into this. She mutters “Teeth, God, your teeth.” It is his best feature as he gnaws away at the juicy pink center of her sex. Her body is rocking, running her pussy from his nose to his chin. A little more pressure and she would have broken his nose! You can see the moment of her orgasm in the splash of liquid covering his face. He is shocked senseless. Hesitantly he begins to run his tongue on his lips. Then eagerly.
She props forward, perching just over his mouth, a stream of white foamy cum drips down as he eagerly lifts his head to suck at her honey pot. He rubs his face in her folds, its is her turn to shiver in excitement.
For the first time in nearly two hours, Vicky hits Fast Forward. Then pauses. They are laying in each other’s arms. Timmy is asleep. The drugs and the sex have taken their toll.
She does something totally out of character, she kisses him on the forehead, squeezes him for a moment, then climbs out of bed. Vicky watching the video is unable to recall her emotions at that moment. The kiss seems out of character.
She crosses to the cabin door, stoops top pick up her shorts which had been discarded hours before, slips them on before leaving and relocking the door.
She could fast forward past the next 15 minutes. It’s just Timmy sleeping, but chooses to watch him. He is no longer the innocent child he was two hours ago. But he didn’t yet bear the stigma, the guilt or the shame that would twist his life forever.
She feels no guilt over what was about to happen. Her only regret now was that she could not return him to that peaceful innocent state… and destroy him again.
The mike picks up some isolated noises from the stateroom next door. Voices. But Vicky knows what was said, what was done.
Vicky returns. She stands by the bedside and looks down at the sleeping or unconscious boy. He barely moved since she left.
In her hand is a hypodermic needle. There were originally three. This is the last one.
She continues to stare at the boy. Concentrating on a single spot on his neck. She gives no sign of panic or haste. Vicky admires how calm and collected she looks. At the time she thought she was panic stricken. This is the crisis moment of her life… yet she doesn’t give away a single sign of it.
“Great grandfather would be proud!” She didn’t remember what his voice sounded like, she had been too young when he died. Did he speak with a strong German accent or had he lost it in his years working for the CIA? Was his voice soft and silky or a heavy rumbling bass? Yet sometimes she was sure she could hear his voice… like at this moment when he told her to “Be Strong! Be True. Do what needs to be done.”
Vicky is counting down the seconds, swinging the swagger stick against her bare thigh. She is bruising herself. “Three, two, one. DO IT!” she shouts at her image on the screen.
Vicky on the video lunges forward and jabs the needle into the boy’s neck. “Perfect!” both the Vicky on screen and the one in bed repeat simultaneously. She had messed up the shot on the father and he had bled a little. The shot for the mother went more smoothly. This one was more difficult because Timmy was so young and thin skinned.
Timmy’s eyes shot open as she pressed the plunger giving him the full dose of amber fluid. He looked confused. She watched as the pupils of his eyes grew huge until there was nearly no iris visible. Same as his parents.
He began to sweat, his pale skin began to turn red. His cock sprang back to life. He was harder than before, so hard it was painful to look at… Like gripping a banana peel at the base. His balls seemed to expand, to tighten as if being inflated. He was trembling. Vicky was sure she could hear his heart hammering through the TV screen.
She waited a few minutes and spoke his name. “Timmy. Timmy? Can you hear me?”
A troubled sound, like he had forgotten how to speak. “Hmmm? Yeah.”
She sat next to him, hugged him. “Timmy, do you know what sex is?”
He looked at her, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. For a moment he nodded then shook his head no.
Vicky whispered something in his ear. She was gently teasing his cock with her hand. She slipped a rubber band over it, rolled it to the base, doubled it, tripled it. Squeezed like a German sausage. Although clearly painful, the boy does not resist or object. He doesn’t even question it. His cock begins to swell even more.
Vicky begins to flick it with her middle finger and thumb. “Snap… Snap… Snap…”. Like a miniature punching bag. You can see the pain on Timmy’s face, but he does not try to stop her. He continues to stare at her in a trance. Vicky on the video giggles and viewer Vicky smiles at the memory. She remembers exactly what her thoughts were at that moment. Timmy’s little balls looked like overinflated balloons. She bet herself that if she took a pin, she could pop them and watch them fly across the cabin, making little raspberry noises as they deflated. Fortunately, no pins were available at that moment.
She pulls the naked boy to his feel, stands over him and with hands on shoulders guides him to the stateroom door. “Let’s go see your mom, she’s waiting for you!” You can see the gears turning in his head, although most of the teeth are missing. He gestures at his swollen cock and balls, bobbling like an obscene Thanksgiving Day balloon. He struggles, then is able to say “See mom…? Like… like this?
Vicky leans down and whispers loudly in his ear. “Yes, exactly like this. She’s all ready for you, I promise.”
He nearly walks into the door. She holds him back and unlocks it. A look of concentration. “An… and… dad?”
“Oh yes, your dad will be there too.” Then, “We have a surprise for him.”

Vicky stops the video for the last time. She stretches like a cat, happy and content. She needs a shower and knows it. She can smell her own stink and loves it. She leaves great granddad’s hat and stick in the bed.
There was another half hour on the video, but she didn’t need to see it. Mostly it is the empty cabin. The action has moved to the next stateroom where (mercifully) there were no cameras or microphones.
A few minutes later there are some noises, obscured voices… a woman is heard but her words are unintelligible. Perhaps there are mattress sounds, squeaking? Someone crying? Anger?
Maybe not.
There is the sound of a door opening, that is clear and something or someone heavy hit against the cabin wall and one of the cameras falls and stops recording.
Someone passes the porthole but it is only on screen for a moment. Too dark to make out.
The ceiling camera has stopped.
Before the last camera stops, something is picked up on the microphone… it might have been the sound of a splash…
Maybe not.

Next:
Vicky The Pervert Part 4: When Mrs. Turner Awoke
- 1
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Vicky The Pervert Pt 3 The Secret In Vicky's Room