The Fairly OddParents
folder
+1 through F › Fairly OddParents
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
14,736
Reviews:
31
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+1 through F › Fairly OddParents
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
14,736
Reviews:
31
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Fairly OddParents, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Crackpot
Crocker gets to have fun now too! Yay!
As usual Timmy wasn't doing so well in school, what with his trips to Fairy World to keep him occupied he had other things on his mind than school. Crocker was used to it but it still annoyed the hell out of him. Crocker hated the devious little shit and knew deep down that he did have FAIRY GODPARENTS! *spasms* Maybe if he talked to his parents he could delve a little deeper into Timmy's life and once and forever prove that he wasn't a crackpot. Maybe he'd just invite Mrs. Turner to talk. He always had liked her somewhat. Maybe with a little *force* he could pry her open.
Crocker made the call to Timmy's house. "Yesss, is Mrs. TurnParent, I mean GodTurner[1] home?" He asked in his whiny voice. "This is she, what can I do for you?" "This is Mr. Crocker, your son Timmy's teacher, and I'd like to have a word with you in private about his schoolwork," he said, his deviant mind conjuring up images of just what he'd like to do to her while they had their little *meeting*. "Ok, when should I meet you," Mrs. Turner asked innocently. "Tomorrow at 5 in his home room," Mr. Crocker said on the other end, smiling evilly. "Ok, buh-bye!" Mrs. Turner chirped. Crocker hung up the phone and rubbed his hands together gleefully. Things were working out perfectly.
As the next day wore on, Crocker became more and more excited. He knew that by 5 the school would be empty and he would be the only one left in the entire building, save for maybe a janitor. As the last of the kids, including Timmy, filed out of the classroom his eyes began to glower in that maniacal look he got when he began thinking about FAIRY GODPARENTS! *spasms*
Mrs. Turner arrived in her usual prim attire and sat down in the seat Crocker offered to her in front of the desk. She didn't even notice the rope that hung over the back of Crocker's chair or the fact that he was pacing back and forth like a caged r war waiting to pounce. "Hmm, maybe she's not such a bright one after all," Crocker thought to himself, noting that she seemed completely oblivious to the surroundings.
"So Mrs. Turner, I just wanted to *talk* to you about your son Timmy," he said, emphasizing the word talk a little too harshly and leaning just a bit too close to Mrs. Turner's ear. She took some notice this time and turned her head to face him. He just smiled and began to pace around her chair. "I mean about, things, you know, his classwork hasn't been all that great, well, ever, and he seems to be *preoccupied* most of the time, you know," he said, wanting to just come out and say what he knew allng, ng, but that might startle her away. "Oh that's just Timmy, he's young and wild and, well you know how boys can be," she said lightly. "Well if he can find the *time* to be occupied with one thing, I think it needs to be his classwork, don't you think Mrs. Turner?" He said harshly. Mrs. Turner flinched slightly at the inflection in his voice. She was beginning to feel a tad nervous at the way he was acting around her. Seemed odd really, even for him.
Crocker walked back around his desk and nonchalantly pulled the rope off of the back of his chair and kept it behind his back. He walked over to the classroom door and locked it. Mrs. Turner by this time was quite startled and beginning to get frightened. "Why are you locking the door Mr. Crocker?" She asked plaintively. He didn't answer her, he just walked back around behind her and said "Stand up Mrs. Turner. If you can't punish your son properly for misbehaving and d poo poorly, then I'm just going to have to punish you." She started to bolt for the door but he caught her by her arm and wrenched her back to the desk.
"Why are you doing this?" She cried out to him, but to no avail. He gruffly tied her hands behind her back and began undoing her pants. He pushed them down around her ankles, along with her prim white panties. He pinned her underneath his long body against the width of the desk as she struggled to break free of his grasp. But he was stronger than she was. She could feel the large erection poking into her nude bottom as he pressed his body firmly against hers. Maybe she was a bad mother. Maybe she did deserve this. She tried to ole ole herself, but it worked only minimally.
Crocker undid the fly of his pants and pulled out his stiff cock and spit into the palm of his hand, rubbing the spit against his throbbing flesh. He ached to be inside of her, he had wanted to fuck her for a long time and now the bitch was going to get it whether she wanted it or not. Mrs. Turner just buried her face against thld dld desk as she waited for him to fuck her. Mr. Turner had always liked it rough and kinky but this wasn't her idea of a good time. She felt him position the rather large head of his dick against her pussy and he slowly began slipping it in.
She felt so good around him, so tight and hot, like melted butter oozing over his thick member. He began to thrust into her feverishly as his hands grasped her slumping shoulders. Tears began to fall from her eyes as he quickened the pace to where it was almost painful. His hips slammed into her harshly as he thrust in and out of her. "This'll teach you Mrs. Turner, won't it," he asked visciously. "I said won't it??" He asked again, giving a cruel slam into her pussy and gritting his teeth at the sensations it was causing him. "Yes Mr. Crocker," she said, succumbing to the numbing force of his thrusts.
His hands moved down to her slender waist and he held her there as he felt himself beginning to spiral out of control. He felt what he thought was her muscles tightening around him as he began to lose himself. "Impossible," he thought to himself obliviously. He pushed into her as his breathing became ragged and erratic. Mrs. Turner just held her head low as she began to cry harder. He slid in and out of her with a slick noise as his precum coated her walls. He bit his bottom lip and made a couple more massive movements into Mrs. Turner's pussy before he began to spurt his liquid fire into her cunt. He pushed in a few more times instinctively before loosening his grip on her.
He pulled himself out and tucked himself back into his pants unceremoniously and grinned savagely. He undid Mrs. Turner's bindings and ordered her to put her pants back on. "If you say one word abthisthis to anyone," he said, "your son will be next. And I trust we shall start meeting like this on a regular basis Mrs. Turner. I expect to see you hear next Thursday at 5." Mrs. Turner blindly wiped the tears from her eyes and shook her head silently and gathered her purse up. She waited for Crocker to unlock the door and she hurriedly walked out of the empty building. "Or my son," she thought miserably to herself. I wonder what Mr. Turner would think about all of this. Or does he have something, or someone else, on his mind also?
Back at the house, Mr. Turner was mowing the lawn when his neighbor stepped outside and gave him a look that all but spoke of how he hated him. "Dinkleburg....." Mr. Turner cursed.
As usual Timmy wasn't doing so well in school, what with his trips to Fairy World to keep him occupied he had other things on his mind than school. Crocker was used to it but it still annoyed the hell out of him. Crocker hated the devious little shit and knew deep down that he did have FAIRY GODPARENTS! *spasms* Maybe if he talked to his parents he could delve a little deeper into Timmy's life and once and forever prove that he wasn't a crackpot. Maybe he'd just invite Mrs. Turner to talk. He always had liked her somewhat. Maybe with a little *force* he could pry her open.
Crocker made the call to Timmy's house. "Yesss, is Mrs. TurnParent, I mean GodTurner[1] home?" He asked in his whiny voice. "This is she, what can I do for you?" "This is Mr. Crocker, your son Timmy's teacher, and I'd like to have a word with you in private about his schoolwork," he said, his deviant mind conjuring up images of just what he'd like to do to her while they had their little *meeting*. "Ok, when should I meet you," Mrs. Turner asked innocently. "Tomorrow at 5 in his home room," Mr. Crocker said on the other end, smiling evilly. "Ok, buh-bye!" Mrs. Turner chirped. Crocker hung up the phone and rubbed his hands together gleefully. Things were working out perfectly.
As the next day wore on, Crocker became more and more excited. He knew that by 5 the school would be empty and he would be the only one left in the entire building, save for maybe a janitor. As the last of the kids, including Timmy, filed out of the classroom his eyes began to glower in that maniacal look he got when he began thinking about FAIRY GODPARENTS! *spasms*
Mrs. Turner arrived in her usual prim attire and sat down in the seat Crocker offered to her in front of the desk. She didn't even notice the rope that hung over the back of Crocker's chair or the fact that he was pacing back and forth like a caged r war waiting to pounce. "Hmm, maybe she's not such a bright one after all," Crocker thought to himself, noting that she seemed completely oblivious to the surroundings.
"So Mrs. Turner, I just wanted to *talk* to you about your son Timmy," he said, emphasizing the word talk a little too harshly and leaning just a bit too close to Mrs. Turner's ear. She took some notice this time and turned her head to face him. He just smiled and began to pace around her chair. "I mean about, things, you know, his classwork hasn't been all that great, well, ever, and he seems to be *preoccupied* most of the time, you know," he said, wanting to just come out and say what he knew allng, ng, but that might startle her away. "Oh that's just Timmy, he's young and wild and, well you know how boys can be," she said lightly. "Well if he can find the *time* to be occupied with one thing, I think it needs to be his classwork, don't you think Mrs. Turner?" He said harshly. Mrs. Turner flinched slightly at the inflection in his voice. She was beginning to feel a tad nervous at the way he was acting around her. Seemed odd really, even for him.
Crocker walked back around his desk and nonchalantly pulled the rope off of the back of his chair and kept it behind his back. He walked over to the classroom door and locked it. Mrs. Turner by this time was quite startled and beginning to get frightened. "Why are you locking the door Mr. Crocker?" She asked plaintively. He didn't answer her, he just walked back around behind her and said "Stand up Mrs. Turner. If you can't punish your son properly for misbehaving and d poo poorly, then I'm just going to have to punish you." She started to bolt for the door but he caught her by her arm and wrenched her back to the desk.
"Why are you doing this?" She cried out to him, but to no avail. He gruffly tied her hands behind her back and began undoing her pants. He pushed them down around her ankles, along with her prim white panties. He pinned her underneath his long body against the width of the desk as she struggled to break free of his grasp. But he was stronger than she was. She could feel the large erection poking into her nude bottom as he pressed his body firmly against hers. Maybe she was a bad mother. Maybe she did deserve this. She tried to ole ole herself, but it worked only minimally.
Crocker undid the fly of his pants and pulled out his stiff cock and spit into the palm of his hand, rubbing the spit against his throbbing flesh. He ached to be inside of her, he had wanted to fuck her for a long time and now the bitch was going to get it whether she wanted it or not. Mrs. Turner just buried her face against thld dld desk as she waited for him to fuck her. Mr. Turner had always liked it rough and kinky but this wasn't her idea of a good time. She felt him position the rather large head of his dick against her pussy and he slowly began slipping it in.
She felt so good around him, so tight and hot, like melted butter oozing over his thick member. He began to thrust into her feverishly as his hands grasped her slumping shoulders. Tears began to fall from her eyes as he quickened the pace to where it was almost painful. His hips slammed into her harshly as he thrust in and out of her. "This'll teach you Mrs. Turner, won't it," he asked visciously. "I said won't it??" He asked again, giving a cruel slam into her pussy and gritting his teeth at the sensations it was causing him. "Yes Mr. Crocker," she said, succumbing to the numbing force of his thrusts.
His hands moved down to her slender waist and he held her there as he felt himself beginning to spiral out of control. He felt what he thought was her muscles tightening around him as he began to lose himself. "Impossible," he thought to himself obliviously. He pushed into her as his breathing became ragged and erratic. Mrs. Turner just held her head low as she began to cry harder. He slid in and out of her with a slick noise as his precum coated her walls. He bit his bottom lip and made a couple more massive movements into Mrs. Turner's pussy before he began to spurt his liquid fire into her cunt. He pushed in a few more times instinctively before loosening his grip on her.
He pulled himself out and tucked himself back into his pants unceremoniously and grinned savagely. He undid Mrs. Turner's bindings and ordered her to put her pants back on. "If you say one word abthisthis to anyone," he said, "your son will be next. And I trust we shall start meeting like this on a regular basis Mrs. Turner. I expect to see you hear next Thursday at 5." Mrs. Turner blindly wiped the tears from her eyes and shook her head silently and gathered her purse up. She waited for Crocker to unlock the door and she hurriedly walked out of the empty building. "Or my son," she thought miserably to herself. I wonder what Mr. Turner would think about all of this. Or does he have something, or someone else, on his mind also?
Back at the house, Mr. Turner was mowing the lawn when his neighbor stepped outside and gave him a look that all but spoke of how he hated him. "Dinkleburg....." Mr. Turner cursed.