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Queen for a Day	By : GeorgeGlass Category: +M through R > Phineas and Ferb Views: 18955 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Phineas and Ferb or its characters. I made no money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Queen for a Day
- 1
Queen for a Day
by George Glass

Summary: Isabella, zapped by a random green ray from the sky(TM), is suddenly treated like royalty by everyone—including a certain pointy-faced boy from whom she’s craving some attention. (Phineas/Isabella, MC, bond)

Disclaimer: I don’t own Phineas and Ferb or its characters. I made no money from writing this story.

***

"Perry the Platypus!?" exclaimed Dr. Heinz Doofenschmirtz as his green-furred nemesis burst into his laboratory.

The evil scientist threw up his hands. "Wait! Before you destroy anything—Look, I’m not up to anything evil today, I swear. I’m just making something for my ex-wife Charlene’s birthday."

Sweeping his arm toward a machine on the balcony, he shouted, "Behold, the Queen-for-a-Day-Inator!" Indeed, the device had "QUEEN-FOR-A-DAY-INATOR" printed on its side in large black letters.

Seeing Perry roll his eyes, Doofenschmirtz said, "Sorry, the ‘Behold’ thing is just reflex at this point. Anyway, I’m going to aim this at Charlene’s house and zap her with it when she comes out to get her morning latte. Then, for the next twenty-four hours, everyone will treat her like she’s the most special person on Earth. That way, she’ll have a happy birthday, and she’ll be inclined to continue sending me alimony checks instead of taking me to court, where—let’s be honest here—her attorney could probably convince a judge that she doesn’t need to pay me a dime ever again, that all of my inators should be auctioned off as abstract sculptures to pay back what she’s already given me, and that I should move out of my building and go live in a tree with the squirrels. Which would be a big step down from the ocelots, I’ll tell you that.”

Doofenschmirtz went to the balcony and looked through the inator’s telescopic eyepiece.

"Ah, there she is now," he said as the door of Charlene’s house opened and the bespectacled woman started to walk toward the sports sedan parked in the driveway.

Doofenshmirtz fired a green beam from the inator and scored a direct hit on Charlene. She stopped and looked around for a moment, frowning in puzzlement, then continued toward her car.

Suddenly, a man who had been watering the shrubs in front of the house across the street dropped his hose and ran over to open the car door for Charlene. The woman was a bit surprised, but she allowed the man to open the door for her and then close it once she was in the driver’s seat. He bowed in her direction as she drove off.

"Success!" Doofenschmirtz shouted. Then, starting to turn toward Perry, he said, "So you see, Perry the Platypus, there’s no need to- OW!" he cried as Perry leaped up and kicked him in the face. The man stumbled back into the machine, which turned on its mount and fired again, the green beam shooting somewhere into the suburbs.

"Perry the Platypus, that was completely uncalled for!" the evil scientist shouted. "Why on Earth would you- oh," he said as Perry pointed to the tiny script beneath the Queen-for-a-Day-Inator’s name on the machine’s side: "Proof-of-concept model for King-Forever-Inator."

"You know," Doofenschmirtz said, "In retrospect, I question the inclusion of fine print in the first place. Along with the-"

Perry smacked a red button on the inator’s control panel, causing the machine to disappear in a cloud of smoke.

“-self-destruct button,” Doofenschmirtz said, coughing and trying to wave the smoke away with his hands as Perry flew off on his hang glider. “Curse you, Perry the Platypus!”

***

Isabella walked through the gate that led to the Flynn-Fletchers’ back yard. The boys were under the tree, kneeling over a schematic of some sort. Isabella took a few seconds to gaze appreciatively at Phineas’ butt before speaking up.

"Hey, Phineas! What’cha dooooin’?" she lilted, expecting the usual response: a "Hey, Isabella," followed by a succinct description of the day’s project.

Instead, Phineas looked up at her, and his face lit up.

"Isabella!" he shouted joyfully as he leapt to his feet and gave Isabella a big hug, making her squeak with surprise and happiness. "Look, Ferb, Isabella’s here!"

Ferb rapidly stood up and gave Isabella a little bow.

"Wow," Isabella said, blushing. Phineas was still holding on to her. "What did I do to earn THIS welcome?"

Phineas let go, looking a little embarrassed. "It’s just because...you’re you," the boy said sheepishly. "We’re always happy to see you."

This was becoming a weird morning. She’d been hit by some kind of green ray from the sky while she was crossing the street from her house, and now, Phineas and Ferb didn’t seem quite themselves.

"So, what’cha dooin’?" she repeated, hoping to get the boys back on track.

"Just looking at a schematic, nothing important," Phineas said, waving a hand dismissively at the drawing. Ferb moved away from it like it was something unpleasant that he was worried about stepping in.

"The real question," Phineas continued, "is what do YOU want to do today, Isabella?" He looked at her, smiling expectantly.

Under other circumstances, she could probably have thought of something easily, but Phineas and Ferb’s strange behavior was throwing her off a bit.

"Gosh," Isabella replied, "I don’t know, um…"

“Isabella! Good morning!” a British-accented voice called from the threshold of the Flynn-Fletcher house’s sliding glass door. Isabella turned her head to see Phineas and Ferb’s father standing there.

“Good morning, Mr. Fletcher,” Isabella replied.

“I thought I heard your delightful voice back here,” the man said. “Linda, darling, Isabella is here!”

Isabella heard hurried footsteps, and Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher appeared beside her husband.

“Good morning, sweetie,” the red-haired woman said, smiling. “Can I get you something? A glass of orange juice, or an English muffin?”

Isabella’s stomach rumbled. She’d only eaten an apple for breakfast, and it wasn’t holding her.

“Both of those sound great,” the girl said appreciatively.

“Well come on in, then,” Mr. Fletcher said cheerfully, sweeping his arm toward the interior of the house.

***

Minutes later, Isabella found herself seated at the Flynn-Fletchers’ kitchen table with a flawlessly toasted English muffin, a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice, and four Flynn-Fletchers watching her with great interest. Isabella was grateful that it wasn’t five—Candace, thankfully, had already gone off to the mall with Stacy.

Phineas’ mother put a jar of blackberry jam—Isabella’s favorite—next to the girl, then stroked her hair affectionately.

"You’re such a wonderful girl, Isabella. I’m so glad Phineas has you as a friend."

Phineas nodded in agreement, looking fondly at her.

“Now, Isabella,” said the boys’ father, as Isabella took a bit of her muffin, “what’s the one thing we could do for you this morning that would most make you happy?”

“Just name it, sweetheart,” Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher added, “and we’ll gladly do it.”

“Well,” Isabella said, not sure how to respond, “I, um…” Reflexively, she glanced at Phineas for a split second.

“Ohhhh,” the woman said, smiling and nodding knowingly. “Could it be some time alone with Phineas?”

Isabella was stunned. How, she thought, can a woman who has no idea what her sons do every day be so freaking perceptive?

“I- Well- It would-” she stammered, her face going pink. She noticed Ferb get up and, inexplicably, zip off to the garage.

“It’s all right, dear,” Mr. Fletcher said, patting her on the shoulder. “Phineas is a fine boy, and I know he thinks the world of you.”

“I sure do!” Phineas exclaimed. He had to speak rather loudly over the racket of clanging metal and whirring electric screwdrivers that had suddenly begun emanating from the garage.

“You know,” his mother said to him, “they just opened a butterfly garden at the arboretum downtown. Maybe you’d like to take Isabella there? We all know how much she likes butterflies.”

“Great idea,” said Phineas, “but how do we get there?”

The door to the garage opened, and the sound of Ferb clearing his throat made everyone turn toward it. Somehow, in less than a minute, Ferb had managed to fuse his bicycle with Phineas’ to form a tandem.

“Ferb, you’re always one step ahead,” Phineas said appreciatively. “Come on, Isabella.”

This situation was strange, but Isabella decided not to waste another minute evaluating this gift horse’s dental health. She hopped on the back of the bike, and she and Phineas rode to the arboretum, where they spent a blissful hour walking among the flowers and the admiring the many colorful butterflies the blooms attracted. Afterward, they went to an outdoor craft fair that was going on nearby, and they both indulged their fondness for making things as they toured the various stalls.

After a scenic ride around the park, they returned to the Flynn-Fletcher house, where Phineas’ mother had prepared them a delightful lunch. After they finished and Phineas’ parents cleared the table, the boy’s mother asked, “So, what’s next, Isabella?

“Yes, Isabella,” Phineas’ father added. “What else would you like to do today?”

Isabella involuntarily glanced at Phineas again. Why couldn’t she stop doing that?

“Oh, a little more attention from Phineas, hmm?” Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher said. As Isabella felt herself turning pink again, the woman added, “Or should I say, affection? Maybe even…a kiss?”

Isabella’s face went from pink to red.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You deserve any kind of attention you want from Phineas. I’m sure he kisses you all the time.”

“W- Well,” Isabella said, now completely flustered, “he’s never- I mean, we haven’t exactly-“

“Never?” Mr. Fletcher said, seemingly scandalized.

“Phineas!” the boy’s mother shouted. “Isabella has been longing for a kiss from you, and you haven’t given her even ONE?”

“Gosh,” Phineas said, clearly distressed, “I guess not! I- I didn’t know she wanted one.”

“Oh, dear,” his father sighed. “This won’t do at all.”

“Phineas Flynn,” his mother said sternly, “you take this poor, sweet girl up to your room right now and give her all the loving she needs.”

“Of course, right away!” Phineas said, taking Isabella’s hand and leading her up the stairs. “I’m so sorry, Isabella! I’ll do anything you want, I promise!”

Isabella hated seeing Phineas so upset. “No, it’s not your fault! You didn’t know.”

“Well now I do,” the boy replied. “And I’m going to make you as happy as you deserve to be.”

They reached Phineas’ room, and once inside, Phineas took Isabella’s hands in his.

“All the loving you need,” he said, and kissed her.

The kiss was everything she’d ever hoped for—soft, romantic, sweet, and gentle. She felt like fireworks were going off in her head as it happened.

When it was over, Phineas wrapped his arms around her and held her. She did the same, eyes closed, smiling hugely.

“Oh, Phineas,” she breathed. “That was wonderful.”

“You deserve it,” Phineas said. “You’re the most special girl in the whole world. Just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”

Suddenly, Isabella let go of Phineas and took a step back.

"I- I can’t do this," she said. "I really want to, but you’re under some kind of mind control or something, and if I...took advantage of you, I’d never be able to live with myself afterward."

Phineas stepped forward, re-merging their personal spaces.

"Isabella," he said, "I know I’m not exactly myself today, but...I’d do anything for you, any day." His big eyes looked right into hers. "You know that."

He was right. He had never once refused her anything she asked for. And now she realized that his only failure was not being a mind-reader who could also give her what she DIDN’T ask for.

"Then do this for me," she said. "Tell me how you feel about me."

"Well, you’re terrific!"

"What I mean is...Are you attracted to me?"

Phineas’ tiny forehead furrowed. "Do you mean gravitationally, or magnetically? We both have mass, so the gravitational thing’s a given, but-"

"Aaaaaaagh!" Isabella roared, pulling at her hair. "Why can’t I make you understand!?"

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry!" Phineas cried, his face taut with distress. "Please, just tell me what you want me to say and I’ll say it!"

It was so tempting. She could make him say that he would love her forever. That he wanted to marry her someday, and be the father of her children. But would it mean anything?

“Well, what about this?” Phineas said, apparently in response to her silence. “You’re my best friend.”

Utterly surprised, Isabella stammered, “I- I thought Ferb was your best friend.”

“Ferb’s my brother. Kind of a different category.”

“Wow,” Isabella said. “That’s…that’s incredible. But…is there anything that I make you feel besides friendship?”

“I…well, ah…there’s, um…It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Please tell me? I promise I won’t laugh.” Then, bravely, she added, “And if there’s something you want to do with me, and you tell me what it is, I promise to do it.”

“Well…okay. You remember that time when we were little—okay, littler—when we were playing pirates? You were the enemy pirate captain, and I’d captured you and tied you to the mast.”

“I remember.”

In fact, she remembered it well, and fondly. Mainly because she remembered the feel of Phineas’ hands all over her body as he tied her to the tree in the back yard, and the way his chest pressed against hers when he reached around her to get another length of the rope.

“Well…you were wearing this kind of short dress, and the rope made it sort of…hike up, so that I could, you know, see your underwear. And I think that was the first time I got a, a boner.”

Isabella thrilled inwardly. I gave him his first stiffie!

“So,” she said cautiously, “you want to…tie me up?”

“You DID say I should tell you what I want to do with you. And…that’s what I want to do.”

Isabella thought about it for a moment and realized that even though the idea was a little weird, it was also a solution to her dilemma. She wouldn’t be taking advantage of Phineas if she were tied up and he could do anything he wanted.

“All right,” she said.

“Great!” said Phineas. “Here, lie down on my bed.”

“Really?”

“It’s got this rope that goes all the way around it, and metal rings that hold the rope in place, so it’s just right for tying someone up.”

“Sounds logical,” Isabella said.

While Phineas went to his closet to find something to tie her up with, Isabella lay down on his bed. She smiled as she did so, pleased as punch to be where she had only ever fantasized about being. Then she moved her arms away from her sides and her legs apart until her hands and feet touched the sides of the raft-bed, as though she were starting to make a snow angel.

“Should I put my arms and legs apart like this?” she asked.

Phineas, digging through his closet, looked back over his shoulder at her and replied, “That’s perfect!”

Moments later, Phineas returned from his closet with four long, dangly items in his hand.

"Here’s the sash from my robe, my winter scarf, and a couple of long, soft tube socks. I wanted to make sure you’d be comfortable."

"That’s very thoughtful," Isabella half-sighed.

Phineas used the scarf and terry cloth sash to tie Isabella’s wrists to the nearest of the S.S. Phineas’ metal rings, then used the tube socks to do the same with her ankles. Isabella couldn’t help but smile, both at Phineas’ gentleness as he bound her and at the whole situation.

"There," Phineas said as he tied the last knot. "Comfy?"

"Uh-huh," Isabella replied. "So, what do you wanna do now?"

"Well...just to relive the experience...I think I’d like to see your underwear."

Isabella blushed. "That’s...very naughty. But I guess I can’t stop you."

"I guess not," Phineas agreed.

He grasped the hem of her skirt and pulled it up slowly, the backs of his fingers moving over up her legs as they revealed more and more of them.

"Your skin is really smooth and soft," Phineas commented.

"Th- Thanks," Isabella stammered. It was suddenly hard to talk with Phineas’ fingers travelling slowly up her calves, then over her surprisingly sensitive knees, then—even more slowly—up her thighs. On each new inch of skin he exposed, she could feel the tiny, cool breeze from the house’s central air conditioning.

She blushed a deeper red as that light but chill breeze wafted over what now struck her as the incredibly thin fabric of her panties.

"Hey, pink!" Phineas exclaimed as he looked unabashedly at her crotch. "It suits you."

"I, um, I like things to match."

"They’re pretty," Phineas went on, even as he finished exposing them, leaving the skirt of Isabella’s dress bunched around her waist.

For several moments, Phineas just stood there, grinning happily as he gazed upon Isabella and her pink panties. Isabella’s embarrassment persisted, and yet she also felt oddly gratified by the fact that Phineas WANTED to look at her, even if it was like this.

Then Phineas moved to the side of the bed and began to untie the scarf from around Isabella’s left wrist. She looked up at him with surprise.

"Are- Are we finished?" she asked, a bit shocked at the disappointment she heard in her own voice.

"Well..." Phineas said, "I guess we can be, if you really want, but...I’d like to see more."

Isabella’s eyes widened. "M-More?"

"You know, more of you," Phineas explained. "I was just untying your wrists so I could take your dress off."

Isabella gasped. She hadn’t expected Phineas to go this far. He seemed a lot bolder now than when they had started.

But she had asked him to do what he truly wanted to do, and this was it. If she stopped him now, she would feel like a...a hypocrite, or a coward, or a tease. Maybe all three.

And on the positive side, wasn’t it wonderful that Phineas wanted to see her in such an intimate way? That he had actually felt this urge, and that she was the focus of it?

Thus motivated by an array of emotional sticks and carrots, Isabella said, "Okay."

When both of her wrists were free, she extended her arms straight back behind her head and lifted her body up off the bed so that Phineas could pull her dress right up and off.

Diligent fellow that he was, Phineas took the time to re-tie Isabella’s wrists before stopping to see the results of his efforts. Once he seemed sure that Isabella’s wrists were secure, he stood up and took a long look at her.

She blushed again, deeply, as he stared at her nearly nude body. Now she could feel that tiny cool breeze all over, but at the same time, every square inch that was exposed to Phineas’ gaze felt warm.

"Wow," said Phineas. "I didn’t know you were so pretty under your clothes."

The sensation of heat in her skin intensified.

"R-Really? You don’t think my legs are too skinny, or my chest is too...too much like a boy’s?" she replied, naming her top two criticisms of her own body.

"Not at all!" Phineas exclaimed. "I like your legs; they make me think of those tall birds you see down at the lake."

Having recently earned her birdwatching patch, Isabella knew which birds he meant: the graceful white egrets that lived in Danville during the summer. She had never thought of her legs that way, and she couldn’t help but smile at the idea. Especially because it came from Phineas.

So wrapped up was she in this thought that she didn’t even notice what Phineas was doing at that moment—not until she felt his hand alight on her ankle.

"Look," he said as his fingers circled the limb. "I can put my hand all the way around your ankle. That’s kind of cool."

"I...I guess it is," Isabella agreed.

"And your leg feels nice, too," Phineas added, moving his hand up her calf. Isabella bit her lip as the boy’s warm palm traveled over the low dome of her kneecap and up her thigh, stopping just short of the edge of her pink panties. When Phineas took his hand away, she felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed.

"And your chest," Phineas said, seemingly oblivious to Isabella’s state of emotional and physiological arousal, "is...well, I just really like looking at it."

This time, Isabella didn’t take her eyes off Phineas for a millisecond, but she also did not speak as Phineas’ hand went innocently to her chest and moved slowly over it from one side to the other.

She managed to suppress a gasp as his palm passed over her sensitive right nipple. But as his hand moved across the center of her chest toward her left nipple, the anticipation and the resulting increase in sensitivity and arousal were too much; the moment the first of his fingertips touched her little aureole, she let out a yelp.

"Oh my gosh, did I hurt you?" Phineas cried.

Isabella shook her head rapidly.

"I’m j-just really s-s-sensitive there!" Isabella squeaked.

"Oh, gee, I’m sorry," Phineas said. "Here, I’ll do what my mom does when I have a sore spot."

He began to lean his head down, and realization ripped through Isabella’s body like lightning.

Oh my gosh! she thought. He’s going to KISS it!

There was nothing the bound Isabella could do. The moment Phineas’ lips touched her little brown bud, she cried “Ah!” and her arms strained against the ropes.

But Phineas didn’t stop. He kissed Isabella’s nipple again, and again, apparently trying to make her feel better. She squirmed with the pleasure and intensity of the sensation, struggling to keep herself from thrashing or screaming.

Just then the door opened, slowly, and Isabella saw Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher come in with a tray of snacks and juice. Isabella closed her eyes against the embarrassment of Phineas’ mom seeing her bound and nearly naked as Phineas did this oh-so-intimate thing to her.

“It’s all right, sweetie,” the redheaded woman said gently. “I like being tied up now and then, too. I’ll leave these snacks for when you two are done.” Then she slipped back out the door.

Phineas, seemingly either unfazed by or unaware of his mother’s brief appearance, planted several more soft kisses on Isabella’s nipple, then switched to the other. Isabella tried to keep her writhing to a minimum and restrict her vocalizations to closed-mouth squeaks.

"Mmm," Phineas said, nuzzling Isabella’s chest with his cheek, "I never knew how much I would like doing this."

Isabella couldn’t manage a response. The physical pleasure she had just experienced, combined with the reality of receiving Phineas’ undivided and so-very-intimate attentions, had overwhelmed her to the point of rendering her mute.

Phineas lifted his head from Isabella’s chest. Then, smiling at her beatifically, he reached down to the foot of the bed and began loosening the knots there.

Isabella finally managed to speak.

"Wh- Why are you untying my legs?" she gasped.

Gently, he answered, "You know why."

In another context, from another boy, the words might have sounded creepy. But Phineas’ voice was so full of kindness and affection that Isabella did not consider doing anything but letting the boy untie her ankles and bringing them together so that he could slide her panties down her legs and off.

He re-tied her legs, returning them to their spread position. Then he straightened up and looked at her, and his smile widened.

"Wow," he said.

Isabella felt her face reddening again, but this time it had nothing to do with embarrassment, and it didn’t stop at her face; she could feel the heat of sexual arousal spreading over and through her, from her neck and chest to her stomach, her thighs, her groin.

"Isabella," Phineas said as he took off his shirt, "I know what I want to do now."

The boy dropped his shorts and pulled down his jockeys, revealing his erect penis, and it was suddenly perfectly obvious what Phineas meant.

"I guess...I can’t stop you," she breathed.

Kneeling between Isabella’s legs, Phineas smiled at her and said, "I guess not."

He lay down on top of her, his newly bared skin warm against hers. Then, after reaching down and feeling around for a moment to ensure that he knew what was where, he put himself inside her.

A month earlier, Isabella had taken her own physical virginity with a carrot, her discomfort eased by romantic-erotic thoughts of her carrot-topped crush. So now, there was no pain—only the sweetness of being penetrated by this beautiful boy’s cock sliding into her soaking-wet, wide-open vagina.

"Ohhhhh," she moaned softly as she felt him bottom out inside her. Then, holding there, he pressed his lips against hers.

Isabella’s state of mind could only be described as bliss. The boy she liked, loved, wanted, needed—he was on top of her, inside her, and kissing her as sweetly as could be. She involuntarily strained against her bonds, and somehow, the sensation of helplessness, of complete surrender, only heightened her euphoria.

Slowly, Phineas began pushing his cock in and out of her bald slit. Isabella squirmed and writhed in pleasure. Grasping the scarf and robe sash that bound her wrists, she wound them tight around her hands, enhancing her sense of being bound and helpless while simultaneously giving her some purchase as she began to undulate her hips in time with Phineas’, helping him fuck her.

That was when it fully hit her: Phineas was fucking her. The boy she had longed for all summer had his cock inside her, pushing it all the way in again and again. And it was completely his idea.

A wave of combined emotional and sexual pleasure engulfed her, overwhelming her.

"Ph- Phineas," she whimpered, "I- I need..."

"What is it, Isabella?" the boy asked gently, not interrupting his slow thrusting rhythm.

"Will you…gag me?"

Phineas looked surprised. "How come?"

Isabella’s voice was shaky but emphatic as she gasped, "Because I need to scream."

It was true. And although, on this day, Phineas’ family probably wouldn’t have batted an eye at the sound of an orgasmic cry from upstairs, Isabella wasn’t ready to let anyone other than her redheaded lover hear that.

Phineas stopped his thrusts, looking around for something appropriate for use as a gag, and Isabella immediately regretted saying anything to stop Phineas from moving that sweet, penetrating cock inside her. She needed him to start again, now.

She glanced around desperately, then seeing a small pink garment on the floor next to her, she squeaked, "U- Use my panties!"

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Yes! Just stuff them in my mouth!" she whined.

Phineas picked up Isabella’s pink undies, balled them up as tightly as he could, and placed them in the girl’s desperate, open mouth. But he had done it too gently; they wouldn’t stay in place like this.

"Dpr!" Isabella squealed through the balled-up cotton.

"Deeper? Okay," said Phineas. He pushed the wad of fabric fully into Isabella’s mouth, filling it.

Isabella bit down on her impromptu gag and began working her hips again, signaling Phineas to resume fucking her. Thankfully, he got the hint, and soon she was again writhing and undulating and straining pleasurably against her bonds. Only now, she was free to whimper and moan and cry out as loudly as she wanted.

This, she was finding, was the beautiful irony of being gagged. Because although it took away her freedom to speak in a way that anyone else could understand, it also gave her the freedom to say whatever she wanted—things she couldn’t have brought herself to say to Phineas, even in the midst of this intimate act. And so, as her body strained and writhed in pleasure, she found herself speaking rhythmically into the gag, like a chant muffled beyond intelligibility.

Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.

Phineas seemed to be aroused by this, because he began to pump her harder, deeper. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and yet her chant did not stop; it was as though her body and mind had just one thought, one goal—to be fucked by Phineas, to take his cock and his desire and his love into her and make them hers. To make HIM hers.

And this was the final irony. She had given up all control to him, and he, in accepting it, had given himself to her.

And with that thought, she felt orgasm begin to rise within her. She howled into the gag, urging Phineas to fuck her faster, harder, and while the boy couldn’t understand her words, he clearly took their meaning, because he began thrusting into her as fast and as hard as he could.

“Isabella!” he gasped. “I- Ah- AAAAAAAH!”

“MMMMMMMMMMPH!” the girl screamed as she came with her young lover. She thrashed wildly, her whole body bucking like that of a wild horse. But Phineas stayed on top of her, inside her, seemingly refusing to take his cock out of her until they both finished.

“That was…amazing…” Phineas gasped into her ear as he lay on top of her, breathing. Then, apparently wanting to hear what Isabella had to say about the experience, he ungagged her.

“It was wonderful,” she breathed. “I…I never thought I’d like being, you know, tied up.” She felt a twinge of embarrassment as she added, “I never thought my first time would involve bondage.”

“Me neither, but I’m glad it did!” said Phineas. “It felt really good the way you were moving around underneath me like that.”

“Yeah,” Isabella said wickedly. Then she asked, “Could you untie me now?”

“Sure.”

Phineas unbound Isabella’s arms and legs, which she immediately wrapped around Phineas, pulling him down and holding him tight as she put her head on his chest.

“Mmm,” Isabella sighed happily. “I think this is what I wanted most of all.”

They lay there for several minutes. Then Isabella’s hand wandered down to Phineas’ groin and began gently massaging his cock.

“So,” she said, “wanna do it again?”

“You bet!”

“Maybe you could tie me up on all fours this time?”

“Absolutely.”

They went at it all afternoon, with Phineas tying Isabella up in different positions and fucking her until she screamed with pleasure. At some point, Phineas’ mom came in and quietly took Isabella’s clothes to wash them.

At as five o’clock approached, a sticky, exhausted Isabella realized that she had better be getting home soon, or her mom would start to worry. First, however, she would take the bath that Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher had run for her, then put on the clean clothes that were neatly folded up on Phineas’ bed.

When Isabella arrived home, her mother seemed excited to see her, and she had made Isabella’s favorite tortilla-and-matzo-ball soup. After dinner, they watched television for a while, her mother insisting that Isabella pick any program she wanted. Then Isabella, wearily happy, went to bed, wondering what tomorrow would bring.

***

The next morning, Isabella arrived in the Flynn-Fletcher back yard. Unlike the previous morning, she hadn’t been struck by a weird green flash on her way over, and she had a feeling that that was going to make a big difference in Phineas’ behavior.

She came through the gate, and Phineas and Ferb were under their tree as usual.

"Hey Phineas," she said a bit cautiously. "Whatcha dooin’?"

Phineas looked up at her, and his face went red.

"Oh, uh, hey, Isabella," he said awkwardly.

The sliding glass door opened, and Linda Flynn-Fletcher appeared in the doorway.

"Phineas, Isabella, may I speak with you for a minute?"

Oh, no, Isabella thought. I’m in trouble. And I’ve probably gotten Phineas into worse trouble.

The two children went into the living room, which was otherwise unoccupied. Linda closed the sliding door and spoke to them quietly.

"I’m not sure why we were all acting the way we did yesterday," the woman said. "But it doesn’t seem like any harm came of it. So Isabella, I think it’s best if we don’t mention it to your mother."

Isabella had rarely felt such relief. "Yes, ma’am," she exhaled, nodding.

Then Linda put a hand on each child’s shoulder.

"I know the two of you are good friends. So I think it would be very sad if you let what happened yesterday make things awkward between you."

Phineas looked soberly at his mother and said, "Okay, Mom."

"Now," the woman said, "go out and play."

She reopened the door, and Phineas and Isabella went back outside.

When the door shut behind them, Phineas turned to her.

"Isabella?"

"Yeah?"

"What we did yesterday was kind of weird..."

Isabella literally held her breath. What was Phineas about to say? That he couldn’t hang out with her anymore? That he could never think of her in the same way again, now that he knew the bizarre impulses that lurked in the dark corners of her mind?

"...but...could we...I mean, if you wanted to...do it again sometime?"

Feeling a rush of joy, she took Phineas’ hand and squeezed it.

"Oh, yes."

She let go of his hand just as Buford and Baljeet arrived.

"Hey, guys," Phineas said cheerfully. "Ferb and I were talking about playing a game of human chess. We could build some robot opponents and fight them with holographic swords and spells and stuff whenever one piece tries to take another."

"Perfect," said Buford. "I’ll be a black knight, and Baljeet here-" he indicated the smaller boy, whom Buford was currently carrying over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes "-can be my pawn."

"Awww," whined Baljeet.

"Isabella," Phineas said, "you want to be the queen?"

"Why not?" she replied.

Then, with a sly smile that only Phineas could interpret, Isabella added, "It’s good to be the queen."
- - -
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Queen for a Day