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Timmy's Unconscious Wishes	By : Wendell Urth Category: +1 through F > Fairly OddParents Views: 10110 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: The Fairly Odd Parents and all associated characters belong to their respective creators and owners, not me. I receive no compensation whatsoever for this story. I

Chapter List
- 1-What Dreams May Come
- 1
Disclaimer: The Fairly Odd Parents and all associated characters belong to their respective creators and owners, not me. I receive no compensation whatsoever for this story. I do not condone any of the sexual activity or situations in this story. It's a fantasy.
This is a dark and disturbing story. Bad things happen. Death and worse things. For adults only. If the themes discussed disturb you, then stay away.
Timmy’s wishes were consciously made and usually turned out badly anyway. Unintended consequences. But what if Timmy’s subconscious was calling the shots? What if it was the darkest places of his soul that made the wishes and he wasn’t even aware of it?

The Fairy High Council is gone.
Destroyed.
Jorgen Von Strangle? Imprisoned, manacled, buried deep in the deepest, darkest, dankest dungeon, trapped for all time. No escape. He can’t even remember how he got there. Or why.
All the fairies and other wish granting creatures have been deported, remanded, exiled back to Fairy World.
Human children have lost their access to magic and all memory of their previous happy, magically enriched lives.
How did this happen?
War.
Anti-Fairies, Fairies, Pixies and Genies locked now in a never-ending struggle in Fairy World, unable to escape or ever return to Earth.
They had turned their powers against each other. Things had ‘gone to shit’ after that!
“Da Rules” is gone, torn up, burned, deleted, defaced, mutilated and just for good measure, pissed on until soggy. Dried, burned, then the ashes stirred and pissed on again for good measure.
Every edition and copy have been liquidated. Remaindered.
Forgotten.
One giant fairy wand remains outside the limits of fairy world, beaming intermittent power to a single place in the universe.
That place?
Timmy Turner.
Like every other boy and girl, Timmy has no memory of Fairy Odd Parents, genies or other assorted magical creatures. The remaining giant wand grants him his wishes. Any wish, every wish… but there are… limits.
One day a week, sometimes two… but no more than that.
He is unaware of his powers. So is everyone else. When his subconscious makes a wish, it comes true. But no one notices anything unusual. They accept the change in reality. They barely notice. It’s just the way things are.
People just accept it
After a while, things go back to normal. No one notices that either.
Not even Timmy.
The world was always fucked up. It’s just more fucked up now that Timmy Turner has this much power… one or two days a week.

Sunday:
Timmy likes church services.
He likes sitting on his high-backed throne and wearing the gold and silver robes. The smell of incense is sweet. It tickles his nose. There is a mild hallucinogenic quality to the smoke. The supplicants can’t wait until the end of the service when they can cast their clothes aside and fuck each other into a state of total exhaustion on the gravel and broken glass covered parking lot.
Driving home naked, covered in blood and cum is a sign of reverence. Some will even avoid removing the shards of broken glass from their skin until their jealous neighbors have had a chance to admire their devotion.
But they have to wait.
Timmy in his priestly vestments sits on his throne while his latest acolytes crawl the length of the church on hands and knees.
They are a good a combination. Blonde, redhead and black haired. Polish, Irish and Asian. Timmy ponders, notes to himself that they need more diversity in the services. Timmyism is an inclusive religion.
The gold and silver bells on their pierced nipples echo softly through the church as they crawl by. Friends, families and strangers lined up hours before services in order to get the coveted aisle seats so they could slap the asses, prod a finger or three into the waiting holes of the crawling acolytes. It is said to bring good luck for a week. Lucky penitents will avoid washing their hands afterwards. Reaching over and grabbing a breast to ring the tiny titty bell is considered an especially sacred act.
Timmy’s mother awaits on the left side of the tabernacle. Timmy’s father on the right. Both on all fours. Naked. Roped. Submissive.
A line of their son’s worshippers stretches along the sides of the church. Men and boys and the occasional woman and girl (with bejeweled strap-ons, vegetables or pieces of discarded lumber) wait patiently for their 30 seconds of joy with Timmy’s parents.
It is considered a miracle that after hours of abuse, beatings, prodding’s (sometimes even brandings!) but moistly fucking’s by hundreds of parishioners, Timmy’s parents remain stoic. Gushing blood and cum from every orifice (including ears and nostrils), they remain in a state of holy acceptance that their punishment is just.
Veronica, Vicky and Trixie finally approach the stairs leading to the altar and the object of their veneration. Lord Timmy.
Holy Timmy.
They wait, but more like eager puppies than patient participants in a religious rite.
Well, who can blame them?
Timmy hikes up his robe. Everyone rises, singing songs of joy as Timmy reveals his giant cock and balls. He has the biggest set in the world. That is why he is worshipped here. His flaccid cock is bigger than a grown man’s leg. His balls have been compared to bowling balls, but that does not do them justice.
His genitals gleam in a holy light. The blonde on the left and dark-haired girl on the right now crawl forward and began their oral worship of Timmy’s balls, which become even more enlarged; a rumbling can be heard even at the far end of the church as Timmy’s cock begins to harden. Three priests rush forward to support Timmy’s humongous member as the third of his acolytes rushes forward and begins to suck on the head of his huge holy dick. It is too big, she buries her face in his pee hole, sucking for all she is worth as Veronica and Trixie now begin licking the shaft. They stretch their arms to encircle the smooth flesh of his foreskin.
The entire congregation is standing, singing hymns of joy.
There is a rushing, flowing sound as suddenly Timmy stiffens and begins to moan.
The congregation is shouting rapturously, “Cum! Cum!! Cum!!!!”
Timmy does, he erupts like a fire hose. A tidal wave blasts Vicky, knocking her twenty feet back up the main aisle by the rush of pure boy-juice. Attendants begin rushing forward with gold and silver buckets to catch his precious fluids.
Vicky fights her way back to her feet, slipping and sliding in his goo, trembling before the oncoming rush of cum. She blindly fights her way forward and kneels before Timmy. His cock has begun to transform. It has become a snake now, a blind albino anaconda.
An evil grin has appeared on the faces of his other acolytes. Veronica grips the snake as Trixie begins to tongue the still massive snake head. It rears up. Priests now grab the trembling babysitter and drag her forward. Veronica and Trixie grab Vicky by the legs. They pin her down in muck and goo.
The congregation is hushed now. The snake begins to writhe, sensing with its tongue. Probing the air, it pauses… the lunges, burying itself in a single massive strike into Vicky’s cunt.
It strikes again. And again.
Vicky goes into convulsions as Timmy’s dick snake fucks her to death.
It was a most joyous ceremony.
Priests bearing buckets of Timmy’s holy jizz begin granting communion to everyone. Some are so joyous they dip their entire head in the buckets of cum. Three or four drown. Rapture.
Timmy leaves the Sanctuary, holding hands with Trixie and Veronica. Priests carry Vicky’s body out to the farm around back to be fed to the hogs which will be butchered later for dinner.

Timmy removes his robes, turns on the TV hoping to catch the game, it was nearly half time. Frances stands on a platform over a stage on the 50-yard line. A group of cheerleaders dance around him to a duet sung by Brittany Brittany and Chip Skylark, praising Lord Timmy. Both are recent celebrity converts to Timmyism. At the end of the song Brittany Brittany pulls down the pants of the trembling, grey skinned boy and begins to give him a blow job. Just as he appears to be ready to cum, Chip pulls out a knife and disembowels the bully on National TV, as the crowd cheers (it had been a rather boring game up till that point).
Timmy always enjoys a good half-time show. His only complaint was that it was over too soon.
Timmy sighs and pops open a can of beer. It had been a long week. He was glad it was almost over.
“I just wish people loved me for who I really am.” One of his Bishops brought in dinner. “Roast pork a la Vicky.”

Monday:
Timmy went back to school. Veronica insulted him and his mother. Trixie played a rather mean prank on the boy. Frances threatened to beat him up if he didn’t hand over his lunch money. Timmy did and was beaten up anyway.

Tuesday:
More of the same, except that Crocker had given him an F Minus on a test where the only question was ‘How does Timmy spell his name?’ He was incensed by the grade since he knew the answer. Crocker laughed and told him he omitted “Shithead”. Then he showed Timmy his permanent record card which clearly indicated that his name was “Timothy Tiberius Shithead Turner”. It was in his father’s handwriting. Everyone else in class got the right answer.
He complained to Principal Waxelplax. She gave him detention

Wednesday:
More, more of the same. Except that he was picked up by his babysitter after school.
Well, picked up, tied up, thrown naked in the trunk and dumped in the woods.
Timmy eventually fell asleep by the side of a stream… well partially in the stream, he had rolled down an embankment first and now lay up to his chest in dirty brown water.
His parents grounded him later for cutting school. They didn’t want to hear his excuses.

Thursday:
Timmy woke up feeling good. Very good. He had had some nice dreams that he couldn’t quite remember. He stretched, naked and went to his closet door, wondering what had happened to his underwear. He didn’t usually sleep naked.
He opened the door. Vicky was hanging from a strap around her throat in the closet. Her toes were just touching the floor. He reached up and grabbed a titty. “Still warm, not dead,” he thought, slightly disappointed. Her eyes opened. She tried to scream but the only thing that came out of her mouth was the corner of Timmy’s underpants.
He hit himself playfully in the head. “Oh yeah, that’s where I left them… Duh!”
He drew back and punched her in the belly as hard as he could, she vomited up the rest of his tighty whities.
He looked at the sodden mess on the floor. “You don’t expect me to wear those, do you?”
Vicky began to gurgle. She had slipped and the belt around her throat had cut off her air supply. Her face was as purple as an eggplant. Well, she had survived this long without his help. He closed the door again and made a mental note to check back after school. In the meantime, he’d have his dad dig a grave out back… or better still, maybe buy some hogs? He had a craving now for freshly fed pork.
Timmy liked how he felt naked. He liked the feeling of fresh air on his dick and balls. He decided to remain naked the rest of the day. He was whistling as he went down stairs. Mom was looking especially good this morning. “Feisty”. He hoped she’d put up a struggle. She’d lose.
It would sure piss the old man off to watch. “Good.”
He began planning out the rest of his day, counting off names.
Veronica
Trixie
Frances
Crocker
Each name made him harder. He couldn’t wait to get to school.
He might even stop by Waxelplax’s office first. He had a sudden hankering for that big fat juicy ass of hers. He thought about having her tied up over her desk while he spanked her with a ruler. Her tits were huge too, bigger than his mom’s. They’d be even bigger after thirty or forty whacks with a ruler. Then he thought about her cunt. “That’d be a good place to leave the ruler…” after he stretched it out a bit. “Probably won’t need much stretching.”
He passed by Tootie’s house and he waved at her. If she was surprised to see the boy of her dreams naked and stiff, she didn’t show it. She was just glad of the attention he was showing her.
“Hey Toots, walk to the bus stop with me?”
Dreamily. “Anything, Timmy dear.”
He didn’t bother to tell her that her sister might be dead by now. He’d save the good news till later. And no use getting her hopes up if she wasn’t dead… yet.
She looked at him for a moment. He stopped as she dropped to her knees and began kissing his hot hard cock.
“You read my mind!”
She giggled, “Wasn’t hard… not as hard as you are,” as he began to fuck her cute little mouth. Harder. She began to choke and sputter. But that was OK with Timmy. He like watching her face turn red as he began to pump loads of cum down her greedy little gullet. Her belly actually began to swell. That’s was also OK, she’s taken most of it like a champ.
She gurgled up two, then three throat loads of his spunk all over her Catholic Schoolgirl’s uniform.
That was OK with Timmy too, let everyone see she was a little slut. His little slut.
He paused for a moment. “Hey Tootie, by any chance do you have a ruler?”
She shrugged off her back pack, rummaged around for a second and pulled out an 18” shiny steel ruler.
“Awesome” Timmy said. This would really do a number on Waxelplax.
He felt like everything was going his way today. He didn’t know why. Not after the last few horrible days. He couldn’t wait to get the school. He usually hated Thursdays.
He held Tootie’s hand as they approached the bus stop.
“Hey Toots, ask ya’ a question? Are you still a virgin?”
She smiled up at Timmy and nodded and tried to pull him over behind some bushes. He pulled back, he wanted everyone on line for the bus to watch as he fucked the shit out her.
As he began fucking the younger girl on the sidewalk, pressing her down hard… ramming her so deeply she’d wonder about the marks on he back and butt tomorrow when all memory of this would be erased, he marveled at how nice it was to not to be fucking someone in anger. Oh, revenge sex was great, nothing better! But maybe a little fun sex was OK too once in a while? When he was finished plowing her, she eventually sat up. He hugged her. He didn’t plan on it. It felt… good. Especially when she hugged him back.
When he’d fucked his mother this morning, he’d finished by grabbing the unconscious woman’s hair and wiping his cock off. It never crossed his mind to do that with Tootie. He did grab a piece of her skirt, but that was more reflex than anything else. It was already cum stained anyway.
He wanted to take a piss. That often happened after sex. He saw Veronica’s face staring at him through the bus window. Her mouth made a “O”. He smiled. He wouldn’t have to hold his piss in long.
“Hey Timmy? What did you need the ruler for?”
He told her his plans for Waxelplax’s ass and tits and cunt. He felt a little bad about not planning on returning it to Tootie later. He could see her thinking. Her next question though, surprised him. “Can I come and watch?”
“Really? Are you sure? You’d have to cut Catholic School.”
“Fuck that! I really love to watch you fuck the shit out of her and give her a beating with my ruler! So hot.” Then, “Errr, can we stop some place first? I really need to take a pee.”
Timmy laughed. If Veronica was on the bus, then so was Trixie. “We could share,” he thought. “That would be totally awesome”

“Hey Tootie. Wanna come to my house for dinner tonight? I think we’re having Pork Chop Surprise!”
Licking the cum from her lips (and savoring the taste), she smiled her widest smile, “Oh Timmy, I’d love to!” Then, “What’s the surprise with pork chops?”
Timmy laughed. “You’ll see!”
He’d call his dad later to slap his mom back to consciousness and to feed Vicky to the hogs… whether she was dead yet or not.
He was a good kid that way. Thoughtful.
They had a pretty good day together. No one particularly wondered why Tootie was there, it never occurred to anyone to ask. They just accepted it. Like everything else that happened around Timmy Turner.
Veronica kept dry heaving and couldn’t remember why. He breath was terrible too. There were yellow stains on her best cheerleading sweater.
Trixie had to go to the nurse, her swollen eyes were an incredible shade of red for some reason. Tootie kept laughing she never even aimed for the Asian girl’s mouth.
Mr. Crocker and Frances were arrested when photos of them were sent to the local newspaper. Tootie hadn’t even remembered that she had an instant camera in her knapsack.
Then there was Ms. Waxelplax… Tootie was positive that they’d never recover her ruler, though it was 18 inches long and had a 6-inch strap on it. She had tried fishing it out of the fat woman’s twat, but it was just too slippery and too deep to grab. On the third try with her tiny hand, the abused educator sat bolt upright, grabbed Tootie by the face with both hands, kissed her deeply and proposed marriage. Timmy fell on the floor laughing. Tootie didn’t find it that funny and punched Waxelplax in the mouth. Her tiny hand was muscular.
Waxelplax’s eyes crossed for a moment, she spit out a tooth and swore her undying love for the girl. And Timmy too (more of an afterthought, though).
The kids got out of there pretty fast… after Tootie stole her purse. Timmy tried to remember why had avoided the girl in the past. She seemed “kinda’ wonderful” now.
They stole Crocker’s car and after some hair-raising near misses, finally stopped the car in the Turner driveway. Well, when I say, “stopped” I mean they “eventually stopped.” Or the hedge and side of the garage eventually stopped them. They rolled out of the car into the mud of the Turner lawn and spent the next half hour rolling and fucking in the mud until they dragged their exhausted bodies into the house and wiped the excess mud off on the Turner furniture. Then waited for dinner to be served.
Mrs. Turner looked upset. Mr. Turner was ignoring the situation. When the pork chops were served, Timmy explained to Tootie what the “surprise” in pork chops was. Tootie appreciated his honesty, took a careful bite and smiled.
She had seconds. Then thirds. I’m not saying that Vicky added to the flavor, but she didn’t take anything away, either.
After dinner, they kicked Timmy’s parents out of the house. The garage had finally collapsed so they spent an uncomfortable night in the wreck of the Crocker car. Timmy and Tootie had a wild night in his parents’ bedroom, finding all his mother’s toys and laughing as he and Tootie tried them on each other.
Sometime after 2:00 AM, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Friday:
Timmy woke in his bed.
He liked Fridays. End of the week, last day before the weekend. Freedom.
He stretched and tried to recapture a pleasant dream, but it escaped him. He got up, there was dirt on his sheets. He couldn’t remember why, but took a quick shower. Even he wouldn’t go to school like that!
He was running late and skipped breakfast. His mother looked tired. She had been crying. “Another fight with dad?” They both ignored him as he ran out of the house. His mother looked at the door as it closed and burst into tears. His father went to the fridge. For some reason he thought there might be some left-over pork chops.
Timmy was walking toward the bus stop when he stopped. He waited. A moment later someone took his hand. He didn’t have to look.
He heard a window slam open. The shrill voice of his baby sitter could be heard. Calling him names… her sister worse ones. They ignored her. But it was embarrassing.
“I had a dream last night.” Tootie said, her head on his shoulder as they walked.
“Yeah? Me too. Can’t really remember it.”
“Yes. Same My back hurts too.” Then, “Funny, I was all muddy this morning when I woke up. Weird, huh?”
“Yeah, weird.”
They stopped. Anonymous piece of sidewalk, like any other. Bushes nearby. “Why this particular spot?” they both wondered. He rubbed her back for a moment, somehow knowing it was sore.
“About your dream?” asked Timmy. Then, smiling “Was I there?”
“Yeah. I don’t know, we did things. Its all jumbled up. Strange things, but…” She paused.
“But? Nice things too?”
She looked at him. Held his hand tightly.
The bus was coming, they’d get on, sit with their friends, endure their enemies. Get off at different stops. Not see each other again till next week.
Some kids were looking at them now, smirking, whispering. Kids their age don’t hold hands. Some of the kids looked confused, trying to remember something that maybe, never happened?
There was engine roar, a spinning of wheels as a beat-up green convertible blasted by. A screeching voice called Tootie “a whore” and laughed. Then disappeared down a side street.
“Sometimes I just want to punch her in the face.”
“Or feed her to the hogs?” Timmy asked.
She choked back a laugh and licked her lips.
The bus came to a stop. They could see Trixie and Veronica looking out the windows, looking at them. Evil smirks on their heavily made-up faces. Even from a distance Veronica looked a little green today. Trixie’s eyes were swollen and red.
“Shit” Timmy whispered, but still hadn’t let go of Tootie’s hand.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said. “My house is empty, my parents and asshole sister will be gone all day.”
Timmy looked her. “What would we do? Some of those things you dreamed about, maybe? The nice things?”
“Depends. You tell me your dreams and I’ll share mine. Maybe trade the nice things… and the others?”
The rest of the kids were surprised to see the two of them turn and run off together. No one ratted then out to Crocker or to the nuns in Tootie’s school. There are some lines kids won’t cross. Crocker was unusually quiet anyway. Frances was also absent. Waxelplax was at the dentist, having a tooth replaced that she didn’t remember losing. She also had an appointment with her psychiatrist to increase the dosage on her medication. She was feeling urges again. Urges she had thought buried. She also had called her urologist.
They stood on Tootie’s back stairs where no one could see them. He pulled the smaller girl into his arms. He kissed her, hoping to recapture more of his dreams. Eyes still open, she bit his lower lip till it bled and she tasted his blood.
She thought about her sister… and ham.
- 1
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Timmy's Unconscious Wishes