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I Love You Timmy Turner	By : Wendell Urth Category: +1 through F > Fairly OddParents Views: 10443 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Fairly Odd Parents or any of the characters in this story. I have no financial interest, expect no money, etc. for this story. Not appropriate for underage readers. “see full disclaimer below".

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
A nervous kid stood outside the door of a lower middle-class home. Nothing really wrong with the house or neighborhood. Small and slightly shabby by the kid's usual standards. Doorbell was rung. The kid pulled the red baseball cap low to hide the long black hair. Shivering in the cool air in spite of the purple sweater over white turtleneck.

The door opened and the kid wanted to rush in. To hide... in case someone noticed. But who would notice such an anonymous kid in this neighborhood.

Timmy smiled at Trixie in her comic book store disguise. She froze for a moment as a tiny pin prick tickled the pleasure center of her brain. 'Ping." She shivered. This wasn't the first time that had happened. Actually, she barely noticed, it was all going on below the surface of her consciousness. Every time she saw Timmy Turner it happened. A little thrill. A little tickle. Joy. "Ping."

Timmy's Little Science Experiment had been a success. The device used to tame and control his enemy had been programmed based on his rage, hate and humiliation... and to some extent, his crush on his babysitter. He had broken her, if she wasn't in love with him, it was the next best thing. He could do anything he wanted to Vicky, hurt her, humiliate her and she would see it as a sign of his love... anything to make him happy. Programmed, conditioned responses, reflexes. Pleasure, ecstasy came at the price of her freedom.

Timmy decided it was time to follow through with his "Next Little Experiment." A new choker was programed. Magical device/scientific results. A black ribbon with a silver clasp, same as the first one. The stone this time was a different color, but there were also subtle differences in the programming.

Magic couldn't create love. But what was love? Where did it reside in the body? Was it in the brain?

Timmy was sitting in his father's favorite chair. He had sent his parents away weeks ago and didn't miss them. His pants and underwear were around his ankles, his fists knotted in his guardian's thick red hair. His dick sliding in and out of Vicky's cruel mouth. He had just finished dumping her breakfast cum load down her throat. He knew she hated the taste and feel of his slimy cock. That was OK. He liked watching her writhe with joy and humiliation at his feet. Sometimes he delivered a kick to her face which would send her over the edge.

"Oh Vicky? I need you to do me a little favor today" prodding her with his foot. "I want you to take that jewelry box over there and get it gift wrapped. Professionally wrapped... make it expensive wrapping (You're paying for it, after all). Lavender paper. Sign the card, 'To Trixie, From Daniel'. Oh, and it would make me very unhappy if you opened the box and looked inside. Very UN-Happy. Understand, stupid?"

Vicky's guts nearly turned over. She couldn't even bare to think of making him unhappy.

Programming. Reflexes.

After a few gut-wrenching moments, "Why are you giving gifts to that little cunt. She ha... ha.... doesn't like you," she stuttered. And who the fuck is Daniel?"

Timmy just smiled. "And while you're out, buy a hair clipper. You know, the big kind that a barber uses? I've been wondering what you'd look like if I shaved your head." Vicky looked at him in horror. "That would make me sooo happy." He winked at her. "Then maybe I'll shave your cunt as well... I'm getting a little tired of all that red hair." he yawned. "Maybe we could do it at school. Run a contest, shave the whore's cunt, three shot for a quarter!"

Trixie was more than a bit of a bitch, truth be told. She excused it by being a rich bitch... as if that made a difference. She would get a lot of anonymous gifts and would usually trash them. Actually, the ones that were clearly wrapped by a kid weren't worth the time to open them, so she would crush them underfoot in the hallway in front of the class (and presumably the kid who wasted her time with a substandard gift). Nicely wrapped gifts (clearly from 'better' stores) were carefully unwrapped at home, evaluated for expense & quality and were either kept or re gifted to her hanger-on friends... usually Veronica.

"Daniel? Do i know a Daniel?" she wondered. A new admirer to add to her list. Clearly this was going to be something of value. But she was a little disappointed, the choker was nice, the gemstone (lavender amethyst?) sparkled in her hand. It didn't seem expensive enough, the box wasn't from any jewelry store. It was about to go into the re gift pile when she stopped and reconsidered. It was the perfect color for her, it matched he headband perfectly. She put the choker on, it felt warm and smooth against her skin. Gave her a little thrill.

"Maybe I'll keep it anyway," she thought, not realizing that it was already fading, being absorbed into her body. A little while later she noticed it was missing. She checked her clothes to see if it had snagged on something, but it was gone. "Probably a cheap clasp, cheap gift. Daniel is definitely off the list!" she thought and promptly forgot about the choker.

That night her sleep was restless. Things were going on insider her. The choker had dissolved sending nerve like fibers, making new connections in the young teen's brain & body.

Next day: Sitting in the 'Reserved for the Rich & Beautiful' section of the bus, listening to Veronica drone on (and on and on) Trixie looked up as the bus approached the 'Loser's Stop'. Her contempt was obvious. Then... The new connection, a tiny, tiny chemical reaction to a visual cue - Bucktoothed boy... Pink hat... Wild brown hair... Pin prick of pleasure. 'Ping.' She started to smile, then turned away as Veronica demanded a response to the endless story Trixie hadn't been listening to.

She wasn't in his class anymore, so the day went on normally for the most popular girl in school. 12:00 lunch. Trixie and her crew looked around the lunch room for someone they could make unhappy. There were sooo many losers. Trixie cast a glance at one of the tables. Distaste... scorn... then... happiness? Just a touch, a light brush with joy as their eyes met. 'Ping." She smiled and didn't know why.

That first day she saw him maybe 3 times. 3 tiny bursts to the pleasure center of her brain. 'Ping' 'Ping' 'Ping.' The next day she saw him 5 times, she had unconsciously changed her route between classes to catch extra glimpses of him. 'Ping' 'Ping' 'Ping' 'Ping' 'Ping.' An alarm bell was ringing in her libido. By the end of the week there was a fire alarm going off in her head. Programmed response: 'Timmy Turner = Pleasure'. Somewhere Pavlov's dogs were drooling... So was Trixie.

They met in secret. She still had her reputation as Miss Rich Bitch to defend. They held hands. A brief kiss (His idea? Hers? Both?). They planned for their weekend.

They sat on opposite ends of the Turner comfy couch and watched a Rom-Com (his idea). Popcorn fight. Laughing at the silliness. Half way through they switched to an action flick (her idea). More laughter. At some point they were an inch apart... half an inch... zero inches... negative inches. Cuddling in her shoulder, she loved the feel of his body against hers (or at least those were the signals her brain was programmed to send). Later, her head on his lap, he was dropping popcorn into her open mouth... missing as often scoring. 'Ping.' had become 'Bong!'

She suddenly sat up. "Where's the uh... bathroom Timmy?" grabbing her backpack.

"It's upstairs, to the..."

Grabbing his hand, "No... show me."

"Errr, OK" he led the way.

Closing the door, sound of the lock turning. "Timmy, you still there?"

"Sure!"

"Don't go away." Sound of running water, washing. "Talk to me. Please?"

He was surprised how easy it was to talk to her through the locked door. Nothing important. Thoughts. Feelings. He never mentioned his parents or Vicky.

Sound of the bathroom door unlocking. She came out wearing freshly pressed pajamas, large lavender and while vertical stripes. Bare feet peeking out of pajama pant bottoms, cute toes pale lavender polish. Her long black hair was down past her shoulders, brushed to a brilliant midnight sheen. No makeup. More beautiful than he had ever seen her.

He gulped. Smiled. Cupped her cheek. She closed her eyes and they kissed. Briefly.

He went for his pajamas.

She bit her lip. Is this what she wanted? How had she ended up here? In spite of her reputation she had never 'gone all the way' before. She had had boyfriends, some a lot older. But was this going to be her first time?

He was back. Behind the bathroom door. They shared a joke. Sound of hurried washing, teeth brushed. He was back. His pajamas were old but clean. They walked down a hallway together holding hands. His parent's bedroom. Twin beds pushed apart. "The left one is super firm, the right one is soft. You can choose..."

"NO!" Softer, "No, I want to see your bedroom, Timmy... Your bed"

"There's only one bed."

"Show me. Please." Then, "Your bed. I want to see your bed."

Her room at home had been originally designed for a Saudi Princess her age. Huge makeup table, shoe storage, custom closets and alcoves. Everything extra pretty, spacious. Nameless housekeepers at her beck & call to keep everything neat, organized. Perfect.

But this was a boy's room. Small, mostly taken up with a small bed. Toys, model planes, spaceships hanging from the ceiling. A desk. Fish bowl on a table, small fish castle (no fish in sight). Comics piled high in the corners.

The bed.

His bed. They sat on the edge of his bed, holding hands. Timmy kissed her on the side of her throat, he could feel her heat beating wildly. "This is it," she thought.

She had been worried that he would jump all over her, but he went slowly, waiting at each step for her approval. She began to unbutton her pajama tops. "Wait" he whispered in her ear. "Let me do that?" One button at a time. Slowly. As each one was undone he kissed the newly exposed skin. Down her chest. Each kiss longer, slower till he reached her navel. A kiss. A lick.

He removed her top. Her nipples were small and very dark. "Brown diamond points" with almost no aureola. So different from Vicky's pink nubbins which sat on raised oval red aureola. She lay back on his bed, topless. He planted kisses, slowly, so slowly around the curves where her breasts were beginning to develop. He moved towards the center to lick at, nibble those hard brown diamond nipples. Her excitement rose, this wasn't like anything she had expected from this 'loser' boy. While nibbling, his hand began playing with her other nipple. Gentle pain. Her hands in his unruly hair. The licking. Sucking

"Oh God!" she moaned as she clutched at his bed sheets. She could hear bells!

She laughed and gently pushed him up and began unbuttoning his pajama top. Planting kisses on his neck, his chest, his breasts and navel.

She inhaled the musky scent of him, then did it again. Bells were ringing.

"Is this your first time?" she wondered.

"First time with someone I care about."

It was all the answer she needed. Then looking up into his eyes, "Mine. My...first." She looked anxiously at him.

He looked down at her. She wasn't the haughty rich bitch of Dimmsdale. She was a nervous virgin not knowing what to expect, but wanting it. "I never want to hurt you. Let me know if you want me to stop."

He undid the snap on her bottoms then slowly removed them, kissing and licking his way down her long supple athlete's legs. She was wearing black silk panties under the pajamas. He smiled.

She pulled off his bottoms. He wasn't wearing underwear. His cock was hard. She wasn't sure how big it was, but that didn't matter. It was smooth and full and felt warm in her small hand. It made her excited to hold it and see the expression on his face.

"I like your panties" he laughed.

"Let me take them..." she started to say.

"No" he said. "Keep them on. They won't get in the way."

He brought two fingers up to her lips. She wasn't sure why at first, then began to lick them, suck on them. It was what he wanted. Surprised when he brought them down and tugged the silk panties aside.

"Oh. Ohhh." she began to moan as he began playing with her pussy. He knew exactly how to please her. He was experienced in fingering after his weeks playing with Vicky. He teased the young virgin, bringing her to the edge and then backing off. She responded with her yelps and moans. She was juicy. His moist middle finger began to penetrate her, probing her secret places. Kissing her hard now, tweaking nipple and clit then spreading her open to his touch. "God, you are so tight" whispered in her ear.

Two fingers, nearly knuckle deep in her quivering tunnel. He then brought his fingers to his mouth to taste her burgeoning womanhood. Sweet. Musky.

Her body quivered, shook. Every nerve was humming. He played her like a musical instrument. Her pleasure centers had been rewired to react to the sight of him.

But also to his touch.

To his smell.

To the sound of his voice.

One sense left to make the programming complete.

"Wait! Wait Timmy!," she panted. "I want to do something for you... For you."

He grinned as she positioned herself. His cock was hard and she wanted it now. She had never imagined herself doing something like this. It always seemed like the most disgusting thing a girl could do with a boy. Oh, lots of girls did it to get attention (Veronica!), But she would never put something like that in her mouth.

"Gross!"

And yet, she thought about it... a lot. It repelled her. It fascinated her. She watch so many videos secretly. "Eeeuuu" was her usual reaction. Then rewound to watch it again.

She had spied on Veronica blowing two jocks behind the school bleachers. She had videoed the scene of the blonde cheerleader, her sweater pushed up exposing her breasts ("Cow tits" the jealous underdeveloped Trixie had thought at the time). A cock in either hand, head bouncing from side to side to briefly suck on one cock then the other. A moronic look of joy on the boy's faces as they almost simultaneously shot rope after rope, spewing on the blonde's face and hair and breasts.

The boys high-fived each other, pulled up their football pants and stumbled away.

Closeup on Veronica's face, a look of pleasure and satisfaction.

Closeup on Veronica's face, now a look of anger and rage. She began licking her lips, teasing the trails of cum onto her tongue, into her mouth. Over and over.

"Horrible, Gross, Disgusting!" thought Trixie. "I'll never watch this again!" She decided to keep the video. You never knew when blackmail evidence against a close friend would be useful. But she swore she would never watch it again... until the next time.

Thinking of the video, her unsteady hand squeezed Timmy's cock. He let out a yelp.

"Sorry! Sorry!" She said instantly as he laughed.

"Go slow, he said.

She brought her head down, examined her prize and closed her eyes. Slowly leaning in, lips pressed in a gentle kiss. Tip of tongue out, tasting, savoring, exploring. Now licking the head, tongue swirling across the tip. Slicking up, down and around the shaft. She was mesmerized.

Timmy was playing with her nipples again, rewarding her for the pleasure she gave him.

She took the head into her mouth, lips playing over the surface, gently sucking. Listening to Timmy panting. She wasn't a cock whore like Veronica, blindly devouring random cocks. This was love. More and more she got into loving this young boy's cock. So exciting, tasting it. Tasting him for the first time. Pre-cum. Bitter and sweet. Bittersweet! Her hungry tongue demanded every drop.

Sight/sound/hearing/touch and now taste. Every sense had been rewired to give her pleasure from this boy. The last of the magical nerve strands faded away. They weren't needed anymore. Connections created. Programmed. Permanently

Was it love? Obsession? Didn't matter, the results were the same.

It was time, they both knew it.

Trixie lay back again and spread her legs invitingly... and wide. As a dancer and gymnast she was very limber. She looked into his eyes, tears forming on hers. "Please... Gentle... I'm afraid" she admitted.

This was the moment he had planned for. This was his dream. In that moment Timmy planned to fuck her like an animal, rip her virginity away from her and destroy her forever. Didn't Miss High & Mighty Rich Bitch deserve it for all her cruelty? Didn't she deserve to be turned into his personal cum dump... another cock whore like his baby sitter? He knew how to do that, he'd been practicing for weeks on Vicky. "They're all fucking bitches!" All his gentleness up till now had been an act. He'd fuck this raven haired bitch till she bled, drag her by her perfect hair and throw her into the street where she belongs! Where she belongs.

It would be soooo fucking sweet because she'd crawl back to him and beg him to take her back. And he could do it again because she had been programmed to love him.

She deserved it... Didn't she?
- 8
- 9
- 10
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I Love You Timmy Turner