I Love You Timmy Turner

What Timmy hadn’t counted on was the ability of the human mind to adapt, to change under pressure. People don’t like restraints, even if they’re for their own good… especially if you tell them it’s for their own good! Tell a person they couldn’t do something and all they’ll think about is a way to do it.

The restraints on Vicky’s emotions & actions chaffed. Subconsciously she looked for loopholes. She wasn’t supposed to be able to do anything against his wishes. Or was she? Suppose Timmy wanted her to do something against his best interests? Suppose he wanted to do something dangerous? Wouldn’t it be in his best interests for her to stop him? It might not please him in the short run… but in the long?

And who knew better what was in the best interest of a 12-year-old boy than his guardian who “loved” him? After all, she was now legally his mother and “Mother knows best!”

Driving by the house yesterday afternoon she took a couple of photos of the disguised girl ringing the doorbell. One from the back and one when she nervously had turned around. Using a burner phone, the images were sent anonymously to a certain bleached blonde faux-valley girl.

Timmy woke up alone. He was dirty and crusty and slightly repulsed by the dried blood stains on his sheets and on his body. Popping a cherry is a messy business, he noted to himself. He also knew that sometimes girls bled during the month for no good reason that he knew of. He meant to ask Vicky about that, but was too embarrassed. So, when it happened, he had left her alone for a few days, calling her a sick pig and making her eat off a dog’s bowl in the bathroom. “Yuck, girls are disgusting” he thought, scratching the dried cum and blood from his balls.

The sound of the shower. A bathroom door slightly open. An invitation? Well, it was his house.

He had walked in on Vicky in the bathroom a couple of times and laughed at her reaction. She wanted to scream, but her face and vocal cords had locked up. Truthfully, he had no desire to see her pee (or the other thing). He was just establishing his total dominance over her.

He knocked.

“Who is it?

Shy laugh, “Errr… me? Timmy?”

Laughter, “Well I wasn’t expecting Waxelplax!”

Timmy laughed too, “Oh? Something I should know about?”

Trixie’s outline behind the shower curtain, blur of dark hair, nipples and pubes.

Boy boner!

“Well, she never bothered me! I wasn’t her type.” replied Trixie. “Brrrrr, close the door already, you’re letting the steam out.” Haughty voice, “Is this what a poor person’s shower is like?  There’s barely enough room for one. Sorry, I don’t think there’s enough room for two.”

Timmy smiled, pulled back the curtain. “Ohhhh, I think we can manage to fit two. If we huddle close together.”

Looking down at his cock. “Not with that thing like that.”

“Oh, I think I can find someplace to put it.”

Timmy stepped in the tub and pulled the curtain shut as the room filled up with steam again.

“Ugh. You are disgusting.” She draped a soapy wash cloth over his dick. “You better clean that thing first if you want to come near me.”

He stood on his toes to kiss her. She pushed him away. “Not till you’ve finished. I hate dirty boys. They're so common.” She stepped out of the tub.

Frustrated, he settled for watching her dry herself as he washed. She dropped the wet towels on the floor and draped the remaining dry ones around her body and hair as she flounced out of the bathroom without another word.

No clean towels left. She’d used them all and left the mess for someone else to clean up. That’s what she was like. Timmy picked up the driest one. He smelled it, inhaled deeply. It smelled of her. Then dried himself.

“Do you have any douche; I mean your mom?

Timmy gagged for a moment. He had no idea. “Try my parent’s bathroom.”

Moments later. “Ugh, a generic douche? Do you shop in Dollar Stores? Doesn’t your mother have any class?” came the distant voice.

For a moment Timmy got angry, “Who was she to criticize?” Then he remembered what his mom had done to him. Small voice, “No. Not at all.”

She was back in her comic store-boy disguise. Timmy moved to kiss her and she turned away so his lips brushed against her sweater. “Uhhh, don’t maul me, OK?”

Timmy was taken aback. What had changed?

She saw his expression. “Look… errr. Timmy?” ss if momentarily forgetting his name. “Timmy, that was fun. Don’t get me wrong. We’ll probably do that again… sometime. But I really need to go.”

“Oh, and let’s keep our relationship a secret. Just for now? I’m not ready to let any of my friends… or your friends in on it. It’s just temporary. OK?” And she was gone.

What had changed was 147 text messages, mostly from Veronica who was supposed to be covering for her.

The gist?

• ‘Like, where the fuck are you?’
• ‘Like, who the fuck are you with?’
• ‘OMG, LIKE, ARE THESE PICS OF YOU?’
• ‘Like, where the fuck are you?’

“Uh-oh.” Trixie thought, seeing the photos of her waiting by Timmy’s house. It would ruin her rep if anyone (Veronica) recognized where she was.