Timmy Turner swallowed nervously and adjusted the shoulder strap of his backpack as he stood on the sidewalk in front of his house, debating whether or not to go in. He'd actually been standing there for quite a while, the school bus having long departed. He was a thin young boy with brown hair and light blue eyes, his most distinguishing feature being his prominent overbite with enormous buckteeth that gave him the appearance of being a small chipmunk. He swallowed again. The house, so long a haven from the outside world in times of adversity (his parents notwithstanding), now looked threatening. He knew why. Cosmo was in there. Just like he'd been there at school earlier. Timmy burned with resentment at that despite his unease. They'd plainly made an agreement! Cosmo could do whatever he wanted at the house as long as he gave Timmy a reprieve whenever he went to school.

And yet today, while Timmy changing in the locker room, the little fairy had suddenly appeared, grinning like a maniac, wanting to play his usual games. The kind the two were only supposed to play in the privacy of Timmy's bedroom back home. They'd made an arrangement. Set boundaries. And now Cosmo had violated those boundaries. And worse, he didn't seem to notice or care. This meant that the power-tripping fairy was beginning to get out of what little control Timmy had managed to keep him under these last few weeks. And that filled Timmy with distinct unease and dread because he knew from experience that Cosmo was incredibly impulsive and prone to acting without thinking (even more than he did!). If Cosmo was willing to violate their agreement and turn up at Timmy's school, the boy realized, there was no telling what the little maniac would do. It'd been a flex, one Timmy had responded to in an extremely weak manner, failing to get Cosmo back under his thumb... and so he dreaded walking through that front door.

And yet he had to. He had nowhere else to go. And even his parents, the most inattentive and clueless morons on the planet, would eventually wonder where he was. He didn't want to make a big deal out of this, at least not in a way that involved his parents. So far, he'd managed to keep the existence of the fairies - now the one fairy - a secret from them and others despite everything, and he preferred to keep it that way. His decision was made for him when the front door open and his father strode out to get the mail.

Mr. Turner stopped short and jerked upright as thought struck. "Timmy!" he yelped. "Oh, you startled me!" He smiled, but then his smile faltered a little as he noticed his son's postures and overall dismal attitude. "How long have you been standing out here?" He checked his wristwatch. "The bus came and went... darn, ten minutes ago!"

"Dad, I..." Timmy trailed off.

Mr. Turner looked at him expectantly, and when nothing further came, he quickly filed whatever was wrong with the boy under the "deal with it later" category, and his huge, dopy smile returned. "Well, hurry up and get your butt inside. No son of mine is gonna mope around on the sidewalk all afternoon."

He strutted to the mailbox, pausing to aggressively pat Timmy on the head. Grumbling, Timmy adjusted his hat, which had been mashed down and knocked askew by his father's hand, and trudged in through the front door. He'd no sooner crossed the threshold than he was greeted by an explosion of magical dust and smoke and Cosmo, his fairy godfather, appeared before him, that wide, cheesy grin splitting the lower half of his face, wand in one hand.

The older but much smaller male was of a similar build to Timmy, slender with a large head, with a short but pointy, almost sharp nose, and appeared human but for his green hair with longish sideburns, spiral earl whorls and of course the ceaselessly buzzing wings sticking out of his back. His eyes were of an unnaturaly bright, almost blazing green and wild with excitement and just a hint of madness. He was dressed conservatively, like a cubicle worker in some mundane office job circa the mid-1960s; neatly pressed white shirt, squared off black tie, equally neatly pressed black pants and gleaming black dress shoes. In one hand he held the aforementioned wand, a wand tipped in a gold star, like a child's idea of what a fairy's magic wand should be. A gold crown sat atop his head. Well, "sat" was perhaps a bit inaccurate. In actuality, it seemed to kind of float a few inches above his green hair.

"Hiya, Timmy, ol' pal, ol' chum!" said Cosmo. It was "big pal" talk similar to what the boy's father used and Timmy hated it, but he'd long since given up trying to make his fair godfather see reason and stop doing that. Among other things. "Welcome home from school!"

Yeah, thought Timmy. The school you weren't supposed to show up at but did anyway. And in the locker room! But what he was said was, "Not here!"

Eyes wide, he glanced back out the front door to where his father was standing by the mailbox, thankfully choosing to shuffle through the envelopes and magazines there rather than carry them inside where he might see Cosmo. His heart beat faster with worry. Worry that his father might see Cosmo. Worry of what his father might say or do if he did. And worse, a worry he'd only recently begun experiencing, worry of what Cosmo might do in such a situation. He made shooing motions with his hands as though trying to ward off a particularly annoying hummingbird, trying to urge the fairy to get lost. And all without upsetting him too much. No easy task. Though in fairness to Cosmo, he never seemed to really get angry these days, only disappointed. But when Cosmo got sulky, he got dangerous and tended to lash out, so it was basically the same thing as him getting angry.

"Go upstairs!" pleaded Timmy.

Cosmo's huge grin turned into a frown.

"Please...?" begged the boy. "We can... we can play later. I promise!"

Cosmo reacted the way he usually did, which was a mixture of not reacting at all and acting like his godson had hurt his feelings by telling him no. Ugh, thought Timmy, it's no wonder Wanda threw up her hands and left this increasingly disastrous situation. With a little grunt of annoyance, Cosmo aimed his wand at Timmy, who yelped and threw his arms up defensively, and a blast of magical energy came flying out of the star-shaped tip of the wand, hitting the boy in the belly. He was almost blown backwards off his feet, and felt a tingling sensation creepy down into his groin, groaning a bit as he began to get an erection. A big one. "Ughhhh..." he moaned. "Cosmo, please..."

"I say we play now!" proclaimed the fairy, who was enjoying the squirming motions the boy was making as he tried vainly to make his erection go down. An erection of his own, one that seemed a little too large on such a small, thin body, was making the front of his pants bulge outward with such force that it threatened to pop the button and make the zipper begin inching down of its own accord. "Now, let's get those clothes off of you..." he added, even as Mr. Turner was coming up the front walk, thankfully looking down at the mail in his hands, glowering in annoyance at something - a bill, perhaps - oblivious to the little drama playing out just inside the front door of his house. "I like you better without them!"

Again, the wand came up, and Timmy's clothes were blown to shreds, his baseball cap flying off, backpack dropping to the floor. The boy was left in nothing but his underwear, a pair of tight little white briefs which bulged with his arousal, which Timmy thought, from a momentarily glance down at himself, looked a bit larger than normal. He hoped he was imagining things. As he gazed back up at Cosmo in open-mouthed shock at the fairy's brazen act, the hat, which had flown out the open door, hit his father in the chest. Startled, Mr. Turner stopped, blinking, looking down at what was unmistakably his son's favorite hat, just without his son's head in it.

Cosmo pirouetted in the air and did a happy little dance. "Aw, yeah!" he cried. "You look sooo much better this way, Timmy!" He then tilted forwards in midair and folded the backs of his hands under his pointy chin, fingers down, feet kicked back and up over his head like a mean kid at school about to engage in some really juicy gossip, his tongue sliding out to do a slow lick along his thin lips. "Oooohhh, my, yes! Yes you do!" The bulge his increasingly larger and larger cock was making hung down heavily. So heavily that Timmy was amazed his fair godfather's wimpy-looking little wings were able to keep him aloft. In his excitement, his clothes were starting to become all in disarray, his shirt untucking a bit, letting Timmy see his belly button and the beginnings of his green pubes peeking over the waistband of his pants.

"Come on, Cosmo!" whined Timmy desperately, covering his bulge, even as his father bent to pick up the baseball cap. "M-My dad is coming... remember, we agreed--"

"Pfft!" Cosmo said, rolling his eyes and tilting back to float with his legs daintily crossed over his huge bulge in a mockery of modesty and one arm casually behind his head, the other gesturing with his wand. "Don't worry about him." A dark look came over his eyes. His squarish green eyebrows turned down, giving his forehead an ugly crease. "I know how to deal with interloping grown-ups like him. And your mom, too, if she--"

"No!" whimpered Timmy.

Mr. Turner glanced up at that. It'd been louder than Timmy had anticipated. "Son...?"

"No...?" Cosmo said slowly, his eyebrows seeming to dig down deeper, making his scowl uglier and uglier. For perhaps the first time in forever, Timmy was witnessing Cosmo truly angry.

"Who are you talking to?" Mr. Turner asked from outside.

Hurriedly, Timmy tried to avert disaster. "Uh, I mean, please... come on. We can play later. Please." His voiced hitched in a sob. He heard footsteps behind him. His father was coming up the front steps. Tears welled up in the boy's eyes.

"Oh, fine!" grumbled Cosmo, his eyebrows flying back up towards his hairline, that dark, ugly scowl leaving his face, and his huge grin returning. He adjusted himself, tucking his shirt back in as his erection began going down. "But I'm gonna hold you to that!" Again he tilted forward and flew down so he was face to face with the underwear-clad boy. "Tonight. After supper. See you then, cutie! .... And you might wanna do something about that, too!" He pointed down with pointy-toed shoe at Timmy's own erection, which he evidently wasn't intent on doing anything about himself. He winked, straightened his tie and then vanished in another puff of smoke just as Mr. Turner entered.

Mr. Turner stood there, frowning upon seeing that his son was in nothing but his undies and had been apparently talking out loud to no one. And was covering what he could tell was a rather largish erection tenting the front of his briefs. "Uh..." he trailed off. He decided that he was honestly in no mood to deal with whatever in the world was going on with Timmy right now and so simply held his baseball cap out to him. "I found your hat outside. Please put some clothes on and don't stand in the open front door where the entire neighborhood can see you in your underpants, okay, kiddo?"

Nodding, Timmy accepted the hat with trembling hands.

His father seemed to consider the matter closed, shutting the door, then turned and immediately tripped over Timmy's dropped backpack. "Gahhh!" he yelled, the mail flying every which way. "Timmy!" he yelled, fuming, sitting up and rubbing his knee. "Pick up your things!"

Grabbing the backpack, Timmy scurried away, around the corner and out of sight of his father, his destination the downstairs guest bathroom. Mr. Turner watched him go and shook his head. Timmy was shaping up to be a very odd boy indeed, he ruminated, but, like most things concerning his son, it quickly slipped his mind the second the boy was out of sight, and his mind turned towards picking up the dropped mail. Nursing his knee, he got up, and the frown on his face he'd had since watching Timmy rush off turned into a full-blown scowl as he noticed the return address on the top envelope, the only one in the batch without a stamp on it, meaning it'd just been slipped into the Turners' mailbox by the sender.

"Dinkleberg!" he hissed, invoking the name of the Turners' neighbor as one invokes the name of their sworn blood enemy. He made as though to rip up the envelope without bothering to open and read it, but then realized he'd be awake all night if he did so, wondering what on God's green Earth the Dinklebergs thought so damn important that Mr. Dinkleberg felt he needed to jam it into the Turner mailbox like an engraved invitation. Setting the rest of the mail - bills, mostly - aside, he went and retrieved a fancy letter opener designed to resemble a medieval sword and opened the Dinklebergs' envelope to discover... an engraved invitation. To a backyard barbecue/pool party the couple were hosting. Mr. Turner's temper flared even hotter than before, and with a snarl, he did end up ripping the thing to shreds after all, putting all the resulting confetti into an ashtray and setting it on fire with a match. "I think we'll RVSP in the resoundingly negative," he mumbled.

As he waved away the smoke, his wife walked in, wiping her hands on a dish towel, having just gotten done cooking dinner. She made a face. "What in the world? Are you smoking again?" There was an obnoxious note of disapproval in her voice, as always.

Her husband glared at her, but felt his temper soften a little. It wasn't her fault that that bastard Dinkleberg had dared to sent the Turners an invitation to their stupid pool party. "No!" he cried defensively, praying his wife would never discover the pack of cigarettes he kept locked in a drawer away from prying eyes. "I was just giving Dinkleberg's invitation for us to come to his 'backyard barbecue bonanza' a Viking funeral."

"Viking funerals are at sea," Mrs. Turner replied, stone-faced.

"But they involve fire!" hissed her husband, balling his hands into fists.

"And what do you care about the Dinklebergs' barbecue anyway?" Mrs. Turner continued, ignoring her husband's outburst. "It's not like we're going, even if we wanted to. Just ignore it." There was an uncomfortable pause. "And if you aren't smoking again, why do you have matches...?"

Mr. Turner frowned and managed to mutter, "For my scented candles." He quickly returned the subject to the hated Dinklebergs. "Would you believe that cheapskate bastard just stuck it in our mailbox without a stamp? Like, he just walked next door and put it in rather than--"

"Rather than what?" interrupted his wife. "Wasting ten cents on a stamp for the letter to make a U-turn?" Mrs. Turner sighed, shaking her head. She didn't like the abominable Dinklebergs any more than her husband did but the extremes to which he took it left her feeling emotionally exhausted lately. Without another word, she turned and went back into the kitchen. Only later did it occur to her that there were no candles, scented or otherwise, in her husband's at-home office. At which point she decided she'd smack him upside the head later. Not a word about their son and the fact he'd somehow ended up in his underwear after coming home from school passed between them.

Meanwhile, Timmy rushed into the guest bathroom and slammed the door, locking it. Not that this would do very much to deter his fairy godfather if the green-haired little maniac decided to again go against their agreement and just pop in, but it'd keep his parents out, and that was something. And something was always better than nothing. This was a lesson little Timmy Turner was slowly beginning to learn these last few weeks of constant harassment. Plopping his cap onto his head, he leaned - no, slammed, really - back against the bathroom door and very slowly slid down into a sitting position on the floor, allowing the backpack to slip from his fingers and lay by the toilet. The guest bathroom was the smallest of the bathrooms in the house and consisted of just a toilet and a sink. Well, and a mirror and some cabinetry, of course.

The boy needed a moment to collect his thoughts and do something about the problem Cosmo left him with. He just hoped it wasn't a very big problem, considering there'd been times in the past when Cosmo had used his magic to cause his godson's cock and balls to grow absolutely massive, twice the length of Timmy's own torso, with a swollen head bigger than the circumferance of Timmy's own cranium.

The past...

Oh, how things had been different not so very long ago. Getting his own fairy godparents had at first seemed like a Godsend in the life of a boy who quite frankly needed a break or two. When they weren't berating him or acting like they wished he didn't exist, Mr. and Mrs. Turner generally ignored their son, their only child, his teacher was a sadistic misanthrope who seemed hellbent on making his students' lives as miserable as possible, with a particular laser focus on Timmy Turner and Timmy Turner in particular... and quite possibly the world's meanest babysitter. Timmy shuddered at the mere thought of Vicki, the embodiment of teenage cruelty to younger kids. Nearly everyone in Timmy Turner's life seemed to go out of their way and take immense pleasure in grinding him down, whittling away his self-esteem and self-worth, to remind him he was nothing compared to them and their problems. And that was when they bothered acknowledging he existed at all. So it'd been a miracle when Cosmo and Wanda had shown up, sworn to do nothing but bring him happiness in a world that seemed determined to deprive him of it.

And it'd been great. At first. Fairly odd though they may have been, Cosmo and Wanda had meant well, and, the occasional hiccup and mishap aside, the two fairies, Cosmo with his green hair and Wanda with her pink, had ensured that Timmy's private life, particularly his bedroom, was a haven from the day to day struggles and horrors of the life of a kid in suburbia. They'd had many adventures together and there'd been a time when Timmy had hoped they'd never be separated and be friends to the end. But that had been before Cosmo had...

Well, Timmy wasn't exactly sure what had happened to Cosmo. Even Wanda, when Timmy asked her back when she was still hanging around, didn't seem to know. The best she could offer was "stress." Timmy wasn't so sure. He knew what stress actually did to people He knew because not only had he witnessed it in the people surrounding him, but because he himself often experienced it. Especially lately. Stress was what drove his parents to become uncaring, shallow husks, Mr. Crocker to become a twisted old buzzard who delighted in making his students as miserable as he was, and Vicki--Well, okay, Timmy had to concede he was fairly sure there was nothing going on in Vicki the babysitter's life that would justify even slightly the way she acted, and that she was just plain mean. But the point was Timmy knew what stress was and what it did to people. It wore them down, aged them prematurely, made them mean or worse... apathetic.

That hadn't been what had happened with Cosmo. His fairy godfather had never lost his chipper attitude, not even a little bit, and in fact his smiling good cheer and delight in everything, everywhere, all the time, already turned up to eleven when the boy had first met him, had increased rather than decreased. He smiled so damn much Timmy was surprised his face didn't freeze in that position forever. There were hints of darkness, of course, but that was only something that had been happening lately, and only when Cosmo didn't immediately get his way, his tendency to act like even more of a spoiled child than his godson making him possibly the most impatient and quick-tempered person Timmy knew. Yeah, that was it. Cosmo was like a rotten, bratty little boy who wanted everyone - that is, Timmy - to play with him all the time, and to play the game his way or not at all. But what exactly had brought this on, Timmy couldn't even begin to fathom.

Who knew? Maybe it was stress. After all, Cosmo technically wasn't even human, even though he looked like a miniature human office worker, and maybe fairies responded to stress by becoming more, rather than less, happy and cheerful. To outlandish, even psychotic levels. But stress from what, exactly...? Timmy had considered the possibility that his tendency to go a little too far with his wishes could make him seem bossy and unpleasant, that he treated his fairy godparents just as shabbily as everyone else treated him, but he remained uncertain about even that as the cause; after all, as ashamed as he felt about that, why had it only now started affecting Cosmo...?

It'd begun a few months ago. Cosmo began, subtly at first, to be the one to suggest things for the boy to do rather than Timmy coming to him and Wanda, and they always seemed to be things that involved his godson taking his clothes off and exploring himself sexually. Or allowing Cosmo to do it to him. Or Timmy touching Cosmo. Or some combination of all three. It had been... weird to say the least, and although Timmy was starting to get to the age where he was starting to enjoy the boners he got rather than finding them an irritation, the idea of doing stuff with another guy, especially Cosmo, his fairy godfather of all people, was bizarre, and he'd tried to beg off, and Cosmo had seemed at first to understand and had backed off... only to start doing it again a few days later.

And what had started as innocent if inappropriate suggestions had soon progressed to out and out molestation and sexual harassment, even torment. Cosmo would do things like make Timmy's pants fall down, both in public and private, and make comments about the way his rear end looked in his tight white briefs. He did it even when Wanda was around and seemed impervious to her finger-wagging, often acting like she wasn't even there and arguing heatedly with her when he bothered engaging with her at all. And when Wanda wasn't there, like now, it only got worse. Cosmo's talk became... dirty. Still cheerful and playful, but dirty nevertheless, and his talk wasn't just about his godson's butt but his "other attributes" as well, namely what he referred to as his "itty bitty boy bits." His cock and balls. And one night, Timmy had been awakened to find Cosmo under his covers, by the light of his wand, having pulled down the boy's underpants. He was either doing something to his penis or preparing to, Timmy couldn't clearly remember which. What he did remember was that Cosmo's pants had been down and his fairy godfather had been playing with himself... and this incident had been the final straw for Wanda. Timmy's fairy godmother, after a furious argument with Cosmo in which the words "insane" and "pervert" were thrown around a lot, she'd snapped her fingers and vanished. Timmy and Cosmo hadn't seen her since, and things had only gotten worse.

Grunting, Timmy got up and went to the sink. He swallowed, pulling open the waistband of his briefs and looking down to see just what Cosmo had done to him this time. Despite an initial gasp of surprise, he sighed in relief upon seeing his penis had only been enlarged by a few inches rather than a few feet, and that he still lacked pubic hair. There'd been one particularly nightmarishly pleasurable incident some weeks back where Cosmo decided it was time the boy experienced puberty, and had not only increased Timmy's dick size, but caused it, his balls and the immediate area of his groin to undergo rapid puberty, leaving the boy with the cock and balls of a full-grown adult man, complete with a small forest of brown pubes. The cock itself had started out six inches, then seven, then eight... and before the night was through, Cosmo, despite Timmy's pleas and protests had enlarged the cock to three full feet, and then positioned himself behind the boy, giving him what he called a "reach around," grabbing and squeezing the grown man's dick protruding from the small boy's crotch and jerking it furiously while licking Timmy's ear and neck until the boy had experienced an adult orgasm, an experience he was so unprepared for that he'd been been essentially bedridden for three days after that.

He'd had orgasms before, both on his own and with Cosmo, but they'd been orgasms appropriate to his age. A grown man's orgasm roiling and tumbling through the mind of such a young boy had temporarily fried his brain and left him a drooling idiot, and though Cosmo had thoughtfully returned his genitals to normal afterwards, the experience had left its toll on the boy, and he just lay there staring open-mouthed and staring at the ceiling for days. Fortunately, his parents had assumed he was sick and he'd been excused from school. Of course, they'd left Vicki to babysit him during the day rather than leave him alone, oblivious as always to her cruelty, though for once the babysitter had elected to mostly leave him alone in his comatose state, mostly because he didn't respond at all to her usual jeers and taunts. She'd spent a few minutes boredly flicking rubber bands and paper clips at his face before giving up and going downstairs to watch TV.

Timmy had needed those three days of bed rest to recover from what Cosmo had made him experience. He felt so rested when he finally went back to school, he hadn't minded the three days' worth of makeup work that sadist Crocker had piled onto him pretty much immediately without so much as a word of concern for how the boy was after missing school for three days. It was after this incident that Timmy had stopped being merely annoyed or even disturbed by Cosmo's behavior and truly begun living in fear of him.

He sighed, tugging his undies down a bit, fishing his larger than normal cock out, studying it as he stroked over it in his hands. It was standing stiff and swollen courtesy of Cosmo's magic, and he had to take care of it. Which meant a quick wank. .... He hoped. Since it was a magically induced erection, he was unsure if it would down after he came. Biting at his lower lip with his large buck teeth, he wrapped the fingers of his small hand around its slightly increased girth and closed his eyes, beginning to move his clenched fist up and down the turgid member. He grimaced as he fought to find something in his imagination to get off to... but all that kept coming up was Cosmo. Cosmo in general, Cosmo naked, Cosmo in various provocative poses. His eyes flew open and he squeezed his dick harder in frustration. Why was his stupid fairy godfather the only thing he could envision when masturbating all of a sudden? Was this part of the spell, or was he just so worn down emotionally and mentally by everything the perverted fairy had been making him endure for months on end that he'd become his entire world, including in matters of sexual fantasy?

The idea that he couldn't escape Cosmo even inside his own head was frightening. He tried jerking off and climaxing to just the physical sensations alone, but it wasn't getting him anything except chafed penis skin. He stopped and released his cock, allowing it to bobbing freely, the head resting against the edge of the counter, panting as he stared at himself in the mirror, eyes wide, drops of perspiration standing out on his forehead.

"This is stupid," he muttered aloud. "Why can't I think of anything but Cosmo?!"

He immediately regretted thinking aloud. Speaking the Devil's name and he shall appear. Poof! Cosmo appeared in the reflection of the mirror, grinning, eyes lidded. "My ears are burning," he said huskily. His eyes darted down a brief instant at the sight of Timmy's engorged cock. Reflexively, the boy backed up, covering himself up. "Why Timmy, it seems as though you're having trouble dealing with the 'little problem' I oh so thoughtlessly left you with." He pouted, and actually seemed regretful. Whether Cosmo meant what he said and claimed to feel at any given time lately seemed to be a tossup, but, for once, it seemed as though he genuinely was regretful that he'd left Timmy with this problem. "Just say the magic words, kiddo, and I'll help you tackle the problem."

Not make it go away, or reverse it, Timmy noted, but help him with it. And he knew what that meant. Cosmo was asking for permission to play with Timmy's junk. To touch him. To molest him. The boy swallowed. "I... I can handle it myself, Cosmo," he said without much conviction, hurriedly adding, "but thanks." He opted not to bring up that once again his fairy godfather had gone back on the agreement to stay in his room. Grinning, though unlike Cosmo his was phony, nervous and twitchy, he grabbed his dick again and resumed beating his meat. "Y-You can watch if you like..."

Cosmo did like. He promptly exploded through the mirror. Literally. Timmy jumped back as shards of reflective glass rained everywhere, and suddenly he felt the small hovering body behind and against him, and the soft buzzing sound of Cosmo's buzzing wings. Setting his wand down on the counter, Cosmo wrapped his arms around the boy from behind, his thin-fingered hands exploring his godson's naked torso with a loving possessiveness that made the boy shudder... and his cock ache all the harder, a bead of precum burbling up from the tip. "Oh, I'm sure you can, especially with visions of my sexy self in your head, Timmy my boy, but I prefer a bit more hands-on involvement."

So saying, he slid one hand down to grope along Timmy's cock, touching it teasingly and nimbly as the boy jerked his fist along its length. And as the boy whimpered, Cosmo nuzzled against the side of his head, burying most of his face in Timmy's sweaty hair. He felt Cosmo's hot breath against him, and then the slick warmth of his tongue as the fairy's tongue slid out to tease and taste along his godson's ear and down over his jawline. There was nothing for him to do but endure it. And besides, much as he hated to admit it... it was doing the trick. His mind was flooded with pleasure as Cosmo's hand at his cock stropped merely stroking with its fingertips and joined the boy's in wrapping itself around his length. Soon both hands were perfectly timed in jerking up and down along the boy's penis. As he stared ahead blankly at the wall where the mirror used to be, the boy groaned and bucked his body, arching his back against Cosmo, thrusting his slightly oversized dick forwards into their dual grasp. And throughout it all, Timmy felt the unmistakable bulge of Cosmo's swelling arousal pressed against his back.

Someone banged on the door. "Timmy?" His father. "Is everything okay in there? It sounded like something broke."

Timmy just gave a despairing little shuddering groan. He was close. Damn Cosmo, he was close. He could feel his climax building, his eyelids sliding slowly down over his eyes, head leaning back into Cosmo's nuzzles, hat falling off, the fairy using his free hand to squeeze one of his godson's little nipple's between dainty thumb and forefinger, eliciting a squeal from the boy. More banging on the door. More of Mr. Turner demanding to know what in the world was going on. Timmy tried to drown his father out. Tried to just ride this out and endure Cosmo's amorous attention. As much as he liked it, he also loathed it... but the sooner they got it over with, the sooner he'd be granted another reprieve from the perpetually horny fairy's molestations. He hoped. He hoped, he hoped, he hoped. He whimpered pitifully as Cosmo ground his bulge against his bare back, hissing into his ear like a snake.

"Tell him to go away. Tell him everything's juuuuuust fine."

"Timmy...?" asked Mr. Turner through the door.

"G-Go away, Dad..." begged Timmy, a little more desperately and pathetically than he'd intended. "Everything's fine. I, uh..." His eyes, unfocused, vision hazy, darted around until they lighted on a tumbler sitting by the sink. Cosmo's tongue slithered into his ear and he broke into a hot, burning sweat of desire, his orgasm moments away. "I j-just knocked over the glass tumbler while I was washing my hands is all. It broke."

That seemed to satisfy his father. "Well, okay." He still sounded angry. "Be sure and clean it up. And try not to cut yourself." There was some muttering, and then the sound of retreating footsteps.

"Atta boy, Timmy," whispered Cosmo, ripping Timmy's underwear off suddenly, leaving him completely naked now. "Now make a big ol' mess for me."

"Unnnh... ooohh... uggghhh," was all Timmy could manage, and his body locked up, a shudder running up his spine, that indescribably delightful feeling that made his whole body dance like a puppet manipulated by a mad puppeteer, and as the indecipherable gibberish babbled forth from his slack-jawed mouth, tongue lolling, his cock bucked in his and Cosmo's hands and fountained forth a thick geyser of sticky cum... way more than was normal for a boy his age. Or anyone, for that matter. More of the fairy's work, Timmy would've reasoned... were he capable of reason. But mind-shattering pleasure wracked his poor brain, so he wasn't doing much thinking, though one of the few passing notions that flew through his sex-crazed brain was that he was grateful the mirror was broken so that he did have to see the stupid faces he was making in his reflection. He always made dumb faces when he came.

Cosmo held him tightly. The spasms of pleasure that kept his thin body jerking up again and again and locked his knees into place were all that were really keeping him standing upright. But for that and Cosmo's grip on him, he would've collapsed in a dazed, limp heap. The stream of cum spluttering forth from his cock seemed unending, and it absolutely drenched the counter, filling the sink to overflowing, so thick and goopy it clogged the drain like congealed syrup. Timmy just kept cumming and cumming, his body bucked and writhing in Cosmo's arms, part of him hoping the climax never ended, that he spent the rest of eternity trapped in this state of mindless pleasure. It would feel good and he be so stupidly happy that he'd never have to worry about anything ever again. Cosmo's hand abruptly released his cock and grabbed his balls, squeezing them. The still spluttering member arced up in response and the boy's naked upper torso and face were drenched in his own semen as he cried aloud in surprise and shameful joy, moving his hips up and down.

"See, Timmy, isn't this fuuuun?" jeered Cosmo. He giggled. "Mmm, now THAT'S a mess! You're such a messy, messy boy!"

Timmy didn't even have the presence of mind to nod, incapable of agreeing or disagreeing, just standing there, leading back, shuddering as he took hit after hit of his own spunk to the face and he knew nothing but waves of mind-melting joy flowing through his brain the way hot melted blobs of wax flowed through a heated lava lamp. He was aware of only that and Cosmo's proximity to him as the fairy kissed him and cooed sweet nothings into his ear. The fairy avoiding getting most or even a little of the deluge on him, shielded as he was by the boy's body. Slowly, the boy came down from his sexual high and the orgasm tapered off. First to shorter spurts, then to occasional little globs, then to nothing at all, though he continued humping his hips forward, still experiencing the powerful climax despite having utterly emptied his reservoirs of cum. Jizz dripped off of everything in front of, above and below where Timmy stood.

"My turn," said the sweetly sinister voice in his ear.

In his stupor, Timmy heard the sound of a belt being unbuckled and a zipper being undone, and then the gentle rustle of pants sliding down bare legs to bunch up around the ankles. Then something enormous and hard was poking laying hot and heavy against his bare, sweaty back, something almost as big as he was, certainly bigger than Cosmo. The boy knew what it was. He swallowed, closing his eyes, letting the sticky jizz drip slowly from his face as he felt the hardness slide down his lower back and poke at his bare bottom. Oh no, he thought, his rational mind slowly swimming to the surface, please don't let Cosmo--

The huge dick was abruptly thrust not into his asshole but between his thighs, rubbing under his balls and jutting forth under his own penis, dwarfing it into insignificance. It slammed into and splintered the cabinet, cracking the counter, making Timmy's cum slosh audibly in the sink. Cosmo's dick was as big or as small as he wanted it to be at any given time, like everything else about him and around him subject entirely to his whims. Timmy had seen it much bigger, and his own cock had been much bigger, but this was still pretty big, at least two or three feet long and as hard as an iron pipe, and the boy was grateful it wasn't going into his rear end right now. He'd need a few days to recover if Cosmo stuck that up inside of him. Much longer than he'd needed to recover from his brief forced flirtation with rapidly advanced puberty that one time, though that had been mental, whereas Cosmo wrecking his ass with his giant cock would be physical. He dimly remembered that dinner was soon and he wanted to be able to walk to the dining room table in a manner that looked normal.

Feeling Cosmo's pubes ticking the base of his spine, just at the top of his ass crack, Timmy grunted and grabbed the huge, veiny member as he knew was expected of him, and felt himself essentially riding the thick meaty log like some kind of insane hobby horse as Cosmo fucked him between his thighs. He bit at his lower lip, trying to force himself not to get aroused by the feeling his sensitive balls being stimulated by the fairy's cock rubbing against them from underneath, but between that and more whispered sweet-nothings in his ear, it was hopeless; he was putty in the fairy's hands and was going to hit a second climax, regardless of whether he had any semen left in him to give. His cock remained rock hard.

Cosmo seemed to read his mind. Heck, he probably did. "Don't worry about having nothing left to give," he assured him, rubbing his shoulders like a coach preparing a prize fighter before a match, "I'll supply more than enough cum for both of us."

And with that, he leaned back, uttering forth a long, throaty moan. Unlike Timmy's hat, his crown didn't fall from his head, kept floating above his neatly combed green hair by pure fairy magic. He bucked his hips, his belt buckle rattling noisily from the waist of his bunched up pants around his ankles, digging the heels of his dress shoes into Timmy's lower legs for leverage, his wings fluttering more wildly than ever before, eyes squeezes shut. With each powerful push of his enormous cock between the boy's legs, his huge balls, audibly sloshing, smacked against the back of his thighs to the sound more jingling and rattling from his belt buckle, and the head of the cock, sticking out in front of the duo a good two feet or more, kept smacking into and further splintering the poor, abused guest bathroom cabinet. The sink split, spilling its contents. Cum flowed everywhere.

Cosmo wasn't just moaning now, he was yowling, hissing, snarling like some kind of wild beast, and he suddenly yelled, "My wand!" His hand reached for it, arm stretching over Timmy's right shoulder. His voice barely sounded human, so raspy that he seemed to be some kind of crazed little demonic imp. "Gimme gimme!" The wand, dripping in Timmy's cum, flew to its master's hand, the star at the tip sparkling, and a riding crop encrusted with red rubies appeared floating in the air. "Grab it!" yelled the demon wildly. "Whip my cock with it!"

Timmy, already enduring his second climax, dry cumming for he had nothing left to give, did not argue. He grabbed the little leather whip with its ruby-studded tip and promptly began using it to savagely beat Cosmo's enormous dick, focusing especially on the sensitive, swollen head. Cosmo roared with high-pitched, raspy delight. Timmy himself felt like he was out of his body and watching this from beside himself, that the thin, bucktoothed boy using the ruby-studded riding crop to whip the cockhead of his sex-crazed fairy godfather was some other little boy in some other time and place... though deep down, he knew better.

"Yes! Yeeeessss!" cried Cosmo, heedless of whether or not they were overheard now. Cross-eyed, he moaned, he giggled, he writhed and squirmed, throwing his head back so hard his crown would've definitely flown off if not magically attached. "Isn't this a fun game, Timmy?" he babbled, his face split by the biggest, craziest grin yet.

Timmy's only response was to wail and begin crying, tears flowing freely from his eyes and rolling down his cum-drenched face. But he kept at it. Whap, whap, whap went the studded tip of the riding whip, Cosmo's cock swelling and turning an angry purple color. Outside, in the hall, Mr. Turner, returning, wondering what in the world was taking his son so damn long, came, knocked once, was ignored, and, frowning, tried the handle, but then thought better of it. Whatever the hell his son was doing in there was not something he wanted to walk in on. He slowly backed away from the bathroom door, then turned and hurried off once more. Back inside the bathroom, Cosmo's wild screeching and Timmy's shrieking sobs reached a fever pitch, and then, with a surprisingly deep-voiced cry of "Ohhhh!" Cosmo came... and promptly hit his peak, his small body wracked by an orgasm Timmy could never know or even begin to fathom, and his cock shuddered and exploded, filling the entire room with so much cum that only fairy magic kept it contained to the small bathroom. Without Cosmo's power, the sheer volume of jizz would've exploded through the walls and blown the door off its hinges. Both he and Timmy were completely submerged in it as it rose all the way to the ceiling.

Slowly, over the next few minutes, it drained. Through various cracks and crevices and down the drains of both the broken sink and the toilet, it vanished, though the room was left thoroughly slimed. And then, abruptly, Cosmo pulled his cock out from between the shuddering, whimpering boy's legs, and even as it shrank back down to a more managable size for someone of his height and build, he was pulling his pants up and doing up his zipper. Still clutching the riding crop, the drenched, cum-splattered Timmy turned and watched, shaking, as Cosmo finished buckling his belt like and then smoothed his clothes out, adjusting his tie as though nothing happened. And, indeed, to the boy's amazement, not a single drop of cum had gotten on the fairy... though it still dripped from his wand.

Cosmo cleared his throat. Shaking his wand free of cum, he said, a little breathlessly, "Ah, well, that was fun. I always love playing in the bathroom with you, Timmy. Well," he looked at a suddenly appearing wristwatch, "I think it's almost time for dinner. I should let you get going." He smirked at the boy flirtatiously. "But I'll see you again tonight."

Timmy blubbered, dropping the riding crop. Was Cosmo really going to leave him like this? "B-But... the bathroom... m-m-my clothes... me!"

The fairy gasped, as though it only now occurred to him he couldn't simply leave and not fix the mess he'd made. "Of course, how silly of me! I almost forgot my favorite part of this game!"

He then amazed Timmy by spending the next several moments cleaning every surface of the bathroom... with his tongue. He licked all the cum up entirely by himself, moaning and groaning in delight as he did it, pitching another huge tent in his pants as he did so. By the time he was finished, though the mirror was still smashed and the cabinet crooked, the wood splintered and the countertop split apart and sink cracked, everything gleamed spotlessly, and the fairy's little belly bulged, looking as though he'd just gotten done eaten a huge three-course meal. He belched loudly, then picked a piece of broken glass from the shattered mirror from between his teeth, flicking it away indifferently.

He burped again, long and deep. "Mmmm, yummy." To his erection, he said, "Down boy," and gave it a playful little smack. "Now for the rest." He waved his wand, and instantly fixed the mirror, sink and cabinet, restoring the bathroom to normal. Then he pointed the wand at Timmy, and magically the boy was clean and dressed, though his hat still lay on the floor. Aside from that and the bulge in the fairy's stomach and the riding crop in the boy's trembling hand, it was as if nothing had happened.

Timmy dropped the whip and grabbed his hat, clutching it to himself protectively, as if it were a talisman that would ward off evil and keep him sane. "Th-Thanks..."

"No problem." Cosmo laid back in midair and lifted one foot and teasingly slid the tip of his shoe along Timmy's chin and lower lip, winking at him. "Now go on, get to dinner. We'll play some more later tonight, ol' buddy ol' pal!" And with that, he vanished, leaving Timmy standing there, trembling, whimpering and still sobbing.

Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Turner were wondering where their son was. Or at least Mrs. Turner was. Not that she was particularly worried about him. After all, he was safe in the house. She was more annoyed that the usually hungry boy hadn't come running for supper, which was fully cooked and waiting to be served in the kitchen. Both times Mr. Turner had knocked on the bathroom door, it'd been at his wife's insistence, and she walking into the living room to tell him to go do it a third time, finding him lounging on the sofa reading the morning paper.

"What is he doing in there?" she asked.

Her husband raised one eyebrow as he looked at her over the top of the paper. He knew. Even if he hadn't heard all those noises, he would've known. "Do you have to ask...?"

"Well, of course! I'm not psychic! I--" It hit her. "Oh, ew! What a disgusting suggestion!"

Mr. Turner lowered the paper a bit more to properly converse with his wife so that she had something besides his eyebrows and forehead to talk to. "I agree, but that probably is what he's doing. Unless he's just got a really, really upset stomach."

"I can't believe he would stoop to something so revolting..." Mrs. Turner carried on, gesturing dramatically, refusing to take the out provided by her husband with the "upset stomach" theory.

Mr. Turner just rolled his eyes and made a big show of shuffling the paper noisily. "It's what boys his age do. Or so I'm told."

The fact he himself had jerked off furiously nearly every day after discovering what his own cock was for at Timmy's age was something he conveniently chose to forget. Like many men his age, he held himself to different standards than his son, and what he himself had done as a child was seen as unusual in Timmy's case. But despite his suspicions and his resulting displeasure at the thought that Timmy was in there... doing things with his little ding-a-ling - and here Mr. Turner couldn't suppress a mild shudder - he was not really motivated to get off his behind and go check on Timmy a third time, let alone batter down the damn door as his wife seemed to want him to.

Mrs. Turner crossed her arms. "Well, regardless of whatever he's doing in there, he's been in there too long--"

Mr. Turner closed the paper and flung it into his lap. "Oh for heaven's sake, fine! I'll go check on him. Again." He rose, taking the newspaper with him. "God forbid anyone in this house have any privacy or time to themselves..."

"It's just that dinner is ready, and we need to get packed for the flight tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah." Despite his grumblings, Mr. Turner's mood brightened a little. Something they hadn't told their son was that they were going on a trip. One more reason to avoid the Dinklebergs' barbecue like the plague, he thought. Their destination was Disney World down in Orlando. Without Timmy, of course. The very idea of dragging their darn kid along with them was enough to give Mr. Turner the heebie-jeebies. The irony of finding it odd to bring a little boy on a trip to Disney World was utterly lost on him. As his opinions about what was appropriate for himself as a child vs. what was appropriate for Timmy now clearly demonstrated, Mr. Turner was probably one of the least self-aware men on the planet.

With some effort, Timmy managed to compose himself. He checked inside his pants. He sighed with relief upon discovering that his cock had been returned to the normal size it ought to be for a boy his age. Thank goodness. He went to the sink and turned on the faucet, splashing water in his face. He let it run and drip down his face as he stared at himself in the mirror. Although there were no visible reminders in the bathroom of what had just happened, the memory of what had occurred would remain with him for some time to come, as every experience with Cosmo seemed to do these. What had he done, he wondered, to deserve all of this? To be neglected or mistreated by everyone in his entire life? Ignored by his parents, despised by his teacher, cruelly abused by his babysitter, abandoned by his fairy godmother... and repeatedly used as a plaything by his utterly insane fairy godfather under the guise of playing games? Sometimes it seemed like the universe just hated Timmy Turner. Grumbling, he turned off the faucet, wiped his face, then returned to glaring at himself in the mirror. He was so thoroughly used up and abused by the world and everyone in it he was beginning to believe the lie. The lie they almost never said aloud, but didn't have to because actions spoke louder than words. You're worthless, kid. You're here for our benefit and you better in line, because the minute we get tired of you, you're history.

He grimaced and so did his reflection. Worthless little twerp. Timmy ol' buddy. Timmy ol' pal. As tears welled up in his eyes again, he balled up his fist and punched his reflection, making the mirror rattle in its frame. Gritting his teeth, he shook his hand free of the pain, then paused to smash the tumbler just in case his dad bothered to check his story about what the sound of breaking glass had been. He left the shards in the sink rather than dumping them in the waste backet by the toilet. A small act of rebellion against his stern father, but one that made his spine feel a little bit less like a wet noodle after what Cosmo had just gotten done to him. He stooped to grab his hat from the floor, and found it, like his clothes, completely cleaned after having been submerged in gallons of fairy cum only moments ago. Plopping it on his head at an indifferent angle, he unlocked the door and opened it, and found his dad standing there, fist raised to knock.

"Oh," said Mr. Turner, glowering down at him. "So finally you come out."

"Hi, Dad," Timmy mumbled. 

The look of exhaustion on the boy's face told Mr. Turner all he needed to know about what his son at been doing in the bathroom, confirming his suspicions. He must've been beating off in there, the little pervert, and knocked the tumbler, whose broken pieces he thankfully didn't see in the sink, aside somehow, likely when he was flailing wildly or something. He didn't like the idea of his son locking himself in the bathroom to beat his meat, especially the guest bathroom. He'd have to give the boy a good talking to after he and his wife got back from their vacation. Tonight, though, he wanted as little stress as possible. With a deep sigh, he said, "Hustle up. Your mother's spent all evening slaving over a hot stove and supper's getting cold. And there's something we need to discuss."

"Great," said Timmy sarcastically, and trudged off down the hallway and into the dining room, where a pot roast was being served. It smelled good, and if nothing else, he was hungry.

His father followed him in, rolling up the paper, scowling angrily, disliking the boy's tone, but a stern glare from his wife as she set the table made him refrain from using it to smack Timmy's bottom. Plus, he reminded himself, no stress. Not tonight. He sighed as he and his son had a seat at the table. Mrs. Turner joined them after finishing up in the kitchen. The family set immediately to eating. Conversation was minimal. No one seemed to be in the mood to talk. The ordinarily chatty Timmy had his own reasons, of course... and his parents, though they noticed his unusual quietness, were relieved rather than concerned. They'd never regretted having Timmy, and loved him as much as they could in their own way, but were such odiously selfish parents that they always put their needs and wants ahead of their son's, regarding him, as best, a pest most of the time. Or so Timmy was given to understanding based on his literally lifelong experience with them.

Meanwhile, Cosmo, having shrunken himself down to the size of a small bug, was standing upside-down on the ceiling, observing what had to be the most awkward family dinner he'd ever witnessed. Jeez, what a bunch of boring, frowny-faced losers. Especially Timmy. Why wasn't Timmy smiling? More chipper? They'd had such fun together only a few minutes ago. He stroked his pointy chin and thought. Ultimately, he concluded that the problem, as it always seemed to be, was Timmy's parents. He too had long noticed the Turners' lack of any real involvement in their son's life beyond feeding him, making sure he went to school, got to bed on time and taking him to the doctor when he was sick. His own role in Timmy's misery he did not consider even for a moment. He was more like the boy's father than even he realized, as he possessed his own crippling lack of self-awareness, though only in relation to how his actions affected Timmy negatively, and even then he was still more capable of self-reflection than the idiot shoveling pot roast into his pie hole down below while reading the newspaper on the table beside him. Cosmo hated no one in the world more than he hated Timmy's father in this moment. Or perhaps "hate" was too strong of a word. Perhaps "strongly annoyed with" would've been more accurate.

Cosmo's hypocrisy stemmed from his short memory span and resulting insistence on living in the now, never worrying about the past if he could help it, and never, ever considering what the future might bring. There was always only today, the eternal now, he called it, and the only thing that mattered at any given time to him was fun, fun, fun! Making Timmy happy. This had led to an inability, a kind of mental block, to consider that anything he did was bad. He was Timmy's fairy godfather, here for his benefit, and therefore anything did for, or to, Timmy was inherently good. Therefore whenever Timmy was sad or angry, the problem was always someone else, and right now there was no one else around except Mr. and Mrs. Turner. They were what Wanda referred to "bare minimum" parents, and he had to agree. At the thought of Wanda, Cosmo's heart briefly ached and he felt sick. Why, he wondered? Why hadn't she seen all the fun possibilities that could be had with their godson and taken off? It both made him sad and angry. As much as he was capable of being, anyway. Cosmo didn't like getting angry. It solved nothing and only made everything and everyone worse, so he chose to be happy all the time. With very few exceptions, his reaction to everything, every sorrow and setback, was to just smile through it.

His annoyance at the two adult Turners as the source for little Timmy's misery led Cosmo to begin planning a petty vengeance against them. Nothing too big. For the briefest of instances, he considered just pointing his wand at first one and then the other and disintegrating them into ash, ending the boring dinner from hell and allowing him and Timmy to get to their next session of playtime that much sooner. His godson's parents couldn't make Timmy unhappy - or make nuisances of themselves banging on doors - if they were smoldering piles of ashes. But that was too easy and not any fun, so Cosmo discarded that idea almost immediately in favor of something with a bit more of what he considered comedy gold to it. Though as his patience wore thin with each passing day, each passing hour, the time drew ever nearer to when he probably end up simply removing Mr. and Mrs. Turner from the picture entirely so he could be the sole source of goodness and light in Timmy's life. But that was in the future. Ten minutes or ten days from now, it didn't matter, so he didn't think about, and instead focused on his current, much more immediately amusing idea.

Down below, Timmy, despite his hunger, was pushing his food around on his plate more than putting it in his mouth, though his grumbling tummy dictated that he occasionally stick something in there, though his parents were making pigs of themselves.

Ignoring them, he again reflected on how things had begun falling apart between himself and Cosmo. Ever since Cosmo had started going crazy and insisting on his sexually perverse "games," Timmy's home, once his haven, had turned into an utter nightmare. After the incident with the forced puberty, he'd done his best to sit Cosmo down and set some boundaries. He was well aware of the irony of he, a small child, having to try and talk sense into an adult. A small fairy, but an adult nevertheless. Cosmo had the emotional maturity of a toddler sometimes, it seemed. At first he'd been angry, upset, not really at Timmy for his defiance, although that was part of it; mostly, Timmy figured, Cosmo was afraid that he wasn't making his godson happy... and he was right, though Timmy was tactful enough to realize that if he flat-out told Cosmo this, it would either upset him further or be ignored entirely. Instead, he tried to play to his fairy godfather's treatment of everything as a game. He told Cosmo that the game he wanted to play was "the waiting game." It involved, he claimed, Cosmo waiting for him at home while he went to school. It was not a very good plan, in hindsight, but it was the one way, the only way, Timmy could think of to get Cosmo out of his life at least for a little while, to grant himself a daily reprieve. And it'd worked. He'd endured the increasingly bizarre, humiliating "games" with Cosmo in bed, in the bathroom, particularly the shower, for weeks and weeks, able to handle Cosmo's manic sexual perversion because he had time to get away from him at school and pretend he was a regular kid again for a little while.

But then Cosmo began complaining. Only a few times at first. Whenever Timmy came home from school and went up to his room, he'd be greeted by a usually naked Cosmo desperately grinning, pathetically eager to please, who would always begin each session of playtime by whining about how difficult it'd been for him to wait for Timmy all day. At first, when the two embraced, Cosmo's complaints had stopped; he was with Timmy then and that had been all that mattered, and he wasn't worried about earlier that day or tomorrow... but slowly, complaining about being without Timmy and all by himself at the house had been all he ever seemed to do, sometimes even while he and Timmy were ostensibly supposed to be having fun - or at least the kind things Cosmo considered fun and wouldn't allow Timmy to object to, seeing all of the boy's efforts to dissuade him as him playing hard to get, seemingly - and nothing Timmy could do, nothing he could suggest for Cosmo to occupy his time, to tell him his entire world didn't need to revolve around him, seemed to have any effect.

And then abruptly, the complaining had stopped. Timmy soon found out why.

And it had happened earlier that very day after PE. After being put through their paces by the coach, the boys had been told to hit the showers. Timmy, who'd become even more timid than usual and self-conscious about his body, had lingered longer than his classmates, as he didn't really want to be seen naked by anyone, let alone other boys. So he'd dragged his feet undressing and then hid until he was sure the showers were free and all the other boys had left. In nothing but his jockstrap, he'd stepped out from behind the cart used to collect dirty towels and started for the showers when suddenly Cosmo was there, buzzing before him in that maniacal hummingbird way of his, that insane grin splitting the lower half of his face. Suddenly it was all "Hiya, Timmy! Great workout, huh?" and a few lewd comments about how good the boy looked in his jockstrap, followed by a wave of the magic wand, whereupon the green-haired fairy's clothes disappeared, leaving him in nothing but his crown and a jockstrap of his own, one that bulged obscenely with his junk which he'd made slightly larger for the occasion in an obvious effort to impress Timmy... and not a single word about how he'd violated the one and only boundary his godson had set for him: to not bother him at school.

And his comment about the PE session had made Timmy realize that Cosmo had actually been there for quite some time before actually revealing himself to him, spying on him and the other boys in the gym... and as he shouldered annoyedly past the hovering, jockstrap-clad fairy, slipping his own jock off and entering the shower area, he'd realized that this probably meant Cosmo had been disobeying and slipping away from the house to watch him at school for some time, probably the very day after he'd sworn he wouldn't.

"I thought I told you to stay at the house," Timmy had said, standing under the showerhead without turning it on, glaring at Cosmo over his shoulder.

"Oh, you did, but it was boring," was what Cosmo had said, hovering there in just his jock, arms crossed. "I liked watching you work out!" So saying, he'd made what he considered a "serious, concentrating" type face and had begun to mimic various exercise moves in midair. Stretches, jumping jacks and the like. Timmy had tried to avoid watching his bulge bounce between his legs. "I joined in alongside you. Up in the rafters of the gym. I worked up quite a sweat. I did everything you guys did."

He'd stopped, panting a bit, and his eyes then crawled over Timmy's nude form. The boy flicked his jock over Cosmo's face.

"Hey!" Cosmo cried, flailing, then vanished, letting the empty jockstrap fall to the floor. Timmy nudged it away with one foot and then turned on the shower, letting the hot water pour down over him. Beside him, Cosmo's head had then popped out of the drain cover. "Saaaaaaay, Timmy," he said, whistling, "niiiiiice view."

"Get lost!" grumbled Timmy. He lifted one foot and smushed it down on Cosmo's face, struggling to force him back down the drain like some really annoying shower fungus. "You've been coming to my school a lot before today, haven't you? Spying on me after I made you promise to stay back at the house!"

"Yeeesss...?" Cosmo mumbled muffledly into the sole of Timmy's foot. The word had been more of a question than a statement, the uncertain reply of a misbehaving child who'd been caught doing something he shouldn't by an adult and wondering whether or not he ought to answer truthfully. And Timmy's fairy godfather, perverse, annoying and terrifyingly powerful as he was, still had a childlike innocence about him, and so the thought of lying never actually occurred to him. He'd confessed everything to Timmy then and there. And Timmy, with a grunt of annoyed, despairing rage of realization that he'd never be rid of Cosmo, had ground the little pest under his feel, shoving him down into the drain. And then, as if to add insult to injury, Cosmo's cheerful voice had floated up from somewhere down in the pipes: "See you back home, big pal!"

A promise or a threat...? Timmy had decided it didn't matter. His life as he knew it was basically over. There was nothing but Cosmo and his idiotic, perverse, insane, selfish "playtime" in his future. And he'd sobbed under the running water the entire rest of the time he was in the shower...

And so now here he sat, too miserable to eat much despite his growling tummy and despite the pot roast being pretty dang delicious. Finally, it all got to him. The long day, his encounters with Cosmo in the boys' locker room at school and then in the guest bathroom once he was back home, this incredibly awkward dinner where the only sound was silverware clinking noisily against plates and his parents' loud chewing. He decided he would have leftovers heated up, or, heck, just eaten cold a little later. Right now, he just wanted to get upstairs, allow Cosmo to do whatever it was the crazy fairy intended to do to him, get that the heck over with... and then just fall asleep. Despite Cosmo's odd appearance or two in them, his dreams were at present his one remaining refuge from his insane fairy godfather... and he was pretty damn sure that even that wasn't going to last much longer, and so he wanted to enjoy it while he still could.

Making a show of pushing the plate away from himself a tad, the universal sign for "I'm done, can I please be excused?", which immediately caught his parents' attention despite the fact the plate moved barely two inches, Timmy scooted back in his chair and said more or less those exact words, but with the added explanation that he "just didn't have much of an appetite right now."

His parents stopped eating and looked at him as though he'd spat a big loogie into the food and declared that his mother's cooking sucked and so did she.

"'Not much of an appetite?'" parroted his mother, as though her son had just said a dirty word. "What kind of an excuse is that? No you may not be excused!" She leaned over and pushed the plate back towards Timmy without giving him a chance to reply. "Eat up."

"I..." Timmy said, and for the first time in he knew not how long he felt the beginnings of anger rising inside him. But he suppressed it. "I'm just not really hungry, is all." He did his best to salvage things. "The food's really good, though, Mom."

His father, who'd stopped eating mid-chew to stare in shock at his son, finished his mouthful and swallowed with a loud gulp, and didn't so much set his fork down as fling it down so that it clanged noisily against the dinner plate, making both his wife and son jump. He threw up his hands. "'Not really hungry,' he says! 'Not much of an appetite!'" There was a mocking tone to his voice.

Timmy winced... and felt his anger rising again. His squarish eyebrows knitted slightly over his eyes, his forehead creasing. This very subtle change in his expression went unnoticed by Mr. Turner, who proceeded to go on a rant about how ungrateful his son was for this bountiful meal, how hard his mother had worked to make it, nevermind that the crock pot had done most of the work. Mrs. Turner nodded along in agreement to what her husband was saying, as like most middle-class suburban housewives, she thought very highly of her own cooking.

Timmy just tuned the rant out and stared down at his plate, though he picked up his fork. But he suddenly started paying attention again when his father finished with "...it's no wonder your mother and I need a break from you!"

"Huh?" Timmy looked up again.

Mr. Turner calmed a bit. "I said before that there was something we wanted to discuss, and it's the fact that, well..." He trailed off, and his demeanor changed entirely, as though a switch had been flipped, and his hand slid over to touch his wife's. "...our anniversary is coming up and we thought we'd go on a trip together." Hastily, and, in a tone which suggested he was desperate not to offend or or upset his son, added, "Uh, without you, you understand."

Up above, Cosmo refrained from his revenge scheme... and in fact completely forgot what it was going to be. Something about making the food explode all over Timmy's parents. This was getting interesting. Especially because unlike Timmy's parents, he could sense the growing anger in the boy. He'd seen Timmy angry before and he had no reason to doubt that this time was going to be any different, but something gave the fairy pause. He smiled and decided to see how this all played out, though he kept his wand at the ready, not exactly aiming it down at Mr. Turner, who he'd intended on targeting first, but not exactly aimed away from him, either.

"Ah," was all Timmy said in response. Again he swallowed his anger. It was replaced with dread. If his parents were going away on vacation, that meant... "Then I guess that means Vicki's babysitting?" He spat the name out like it tasted foul.

His mother noticed, and a look of concern passed over her face as she realized the slight, unsettling change in tone that had come over her son. She drew her hand away from her husband's, watching Timmy's face carefully. She could see the gathering stormclouds. Timmy's father, however, didn't. He would remain completely unaware of his son's growing anger until the inevitable explosion and the chaos that was to follow. Chaos that would effectively bring the Turner family crashing down in fiery destruction.

Now it was Mrs. Turner's attempt to salvage things. Simply for the sake of avoiding an argument, she tried to reassure Timmy that it wasn't going to be so bad. "Vicki's a nice girl..." she said, although even she sounded uncertain of that. "I know she can be a bit... caustic," she added, which was putting it mildly, "but have you ever considered not being so fragile?"

Mr. Turner picked up his wife's praise for Vicki, however halfhearted, and nodded... and then promptly brought destruction down upon the family. "Of course she's a nice girl. Nice enough to bother taking time out of her busy life to come and babysit you." At "you," he picked up his fork again, pointing at Timmy with it, a piece of roast beef stuck on the tines. "And anyway, she's the only person we can ever find willing to come over here and watch you." What he didn't add was that although he and his wife weren't leaving until the next day, Vicki was going to come over that evening after dinner, both to pick up her check for the week - Mr. Turner found paying her in advance annoying - and to spend the night so she'd already be there in the morning when they left.

Timmy considered mentioning that the Dinklebergs might be willing to check in on him from time to time while they were away, but the words died as a strangled little choke in his throat as he remembered his parents' irrational hatred for their neighbors. Besides, what if his father swallowed his dislike of the Dinklebergs and they came over to check on him one day during one of his and Cosmo's little "sessions?" He shuddered to think of what they might think... or worse, what Cosmo might do to them to keep his existence, and what he did to Timmy, a secret, especially with the Turners out of town. Better to suffer Vicki for the time being. But regardless of him becoming resigned to being babysat by Vicki once again, Timmy felt his rage once more building at the way his father was talking to him, at the implication that he should be grateful to be watched by someone who did nothing but mock and bully him every chance she got... and rage at his parents' continuing inability to see how or care how Vicki treated him... or how they themselves treated him... and the effect it was having on him.

And on top of everything else, there was Cosmo. And, in the end, perhaps what happened next was inevitable. Perhaps what finally made Timmy explode was that in his frustration with his failure to get his fairy godfather under control, he needed someone to take his anger out on, someone whose feelings he could hurt, someone who would react to something he said, unlike Cosmo who just smiled through everything. And right now, at that moment, the only two people there to take his anger were his parents. But it needed one more thing to finally push the abused boy over the edge. And Mr. Turner, in his utter doomed obliviousness, was happy to oblige.

"Anyway, like I said, we need some time away from home. Away from being parents." Mr. Turner said this as if he and his wife ever did more the bare frickin' minimum to raise their son. He stopped gesturing with his fork, noticing the piece of meat stuck on the end, and jammed it into his mouth. "Mmm. And so we talked about it," he continued, talking with his mouth full, "and we decided... we're going to Disney World!"

At this point, he reached under the table and took out a black hat with large mouse ears on it, and stuck it on his head. He grinned stupidly.

"It's gonna be so much fun!"

"You're... going on a vacation to Disney World... without me?" cried Timmy, barely able to believe what he was hearing.

He exploded. Of course, since meeting Cosmo and Wanda, he'd not only been to Disney World without his parents, but to dozens of other far more interesting and fun places, but it was the principle of the thing. The final straw. The last thing in nearly a years' worth of humiliations he'd been forced to endure and he couldn't take it anymore. He jammed his fork down into the table, felt the tines pierce the wood, and stood up on his chair. When he let go of the fork's handle, he remained jutting upwards, so deeply had he stabbed it down into the table. Both of his parents were shocked into silence.

"I hate you!" Timmy screamed shrilly, tears welling up in his eyes and running down his cheeks. He jumped onto the table, making the silverware and plates rattle. His parents leaned back in their chairs at his tirade. "I hate you both! You're both nothing but stupid and selfish and you only ever think of yourselves and not me! Never me! You accuse me of being ungrateful when all you ever do is bitch and moan about our next door neighbors who've never done anything bad to do! Well, I wish someone would do something bad to you! I wish something bad would happen to both of you right now to wreck your lives forever the way you and everyone else have wrecked mine!"

That's my cue, thought Cosmo with a grin and an evil look on his face.

Recovering from his shock, Timmy's father blubbered and stammered for a moment, unsure of what to say in response to the tongue-lashing he'd just gotten. Deep down, he knew he couldn't argue with anything the boy had said. And if he'd had an ounce of moral courage and responsibility as a man and a father, he would've taken the time to calm his son down and talk to him and find out what on Earth had driven him to say such mean and hurtful things. .... But if he'd been that kind of man, he wouldn't have said and done the selfish and neglectful things that had pushed Timmy to his point in the first place, and any potential epiphany was ignored. Besides... it was much, much too late for any chance at redemption or forgiveness, though he had no way of knowing that.

Rage overtook him. The kind of rage that selfish, petty domestic tyrants feel whenever their fragile egos and self-assured sense of absolute authority are challenged by those they feel are, or should be, under their thumbs. Visions of spankings danced through his head. So much for the evening before they left for vacation not being stressful...

He stood, looking ridiculous being so angry with the Mickey Mouse hat on, and lifted one finger, like someone at a town hall meeting about to lodge one hell of a protest. "Now see here, you little--"

He stopped midsentence as a tiny, green-haired man in a conservative shirt and tie, a crown floating slightly above his head, flew down from somewhere up above the dinner table, starting out the size of a gnat and soon growing until he easily stood as tall as Timmy himself. Not that he actually stood at all, held aloft as he was by rapidly buzzing wings. His green eyes blazed with a madness so profound that that, rather than his sudden, inexplicable appearance from seemingly nowhere, gave Mr. Turner pause, and made him as well as his wife suddenly very uneasy. And that grin. That huge grin that was full of happy good cheer and yet somehow promised only pain and misery. Mr. Turner felt himself break into a cold sweat.

"What the--?" he managed to get out. Those were his last words.

"Hi!" said Cosmo, who'd already decided the man's fate. "You know, your dorky hat gives me an idea, Mr. Turner ol' buddy, ol' pal!"

"Cosmo, no!" screamed Timmy, his anger draining suddenly as he realized the consequences of his outburst.

Cosmo ignored him, extending the wand out towards the elder Turner... and with a zap of magical power, Timmy's father was promptly turned into a mouse. A mouse that retained Mr. Turner's neatly pomaded hairstyle. With a pitiful squeak, the rodent hung in midair and then dropped to land on the table amidst the food on the plate that he, as a human, had just been eating from. The fork he'd been holding fell, clanged off the edge of the table, and dropped to the floor.

Mrs. Turner screamed, jumping up from her chair. Cosmo winced, turning and aiming the wand in her direction now. "What's wrong, Mrs. T? Afraid of mice? Well, maybe I can turn a catty bitch like you into something that finds rodents a little more appealing!"

Zap! The magical energy flew from the wand and struck Timmy's mother, even as the boy screamed for Cosmo to stop once again, and instantly the woman was turned into a cat. Like her husband, she hovered in midair for a second before dropping to the table. Almost immediately, her feline instincts took over, and she pounced at the mouse that had once been Mr. Turner. If anything human remained in either of Timmy's parents, it was not evident; the mouse, squeaking, leaped off the table and the cat followed. Cosmo doubled over with laughter. This was much more satisfying than just making their food explode all over them as he'd originally planned. Now he turned to Timmy... and was surprised to find that his godson was most decidedly not happy with what he'd done. The boy was panting so hard he was practically dry-heaving, tears streaming down his cheeks, mouth hanging open in wordless shock and horror. The fairy frowned. What had he done wrong? Then it hit him. Of course! Timmy, being a playful little lad, wanted to follow up the removal of the negative influence of his parents from his life with a bit of fun. It was playtime!

"Well, now that they're out of the way," Cosmo said, and drew the star-shaped tip of the wand down the front of his body, "you and I can start playtime a little early, don't you think?"

As the wand passed over his clothes, they came undone: his necktie untied itself, his shirt buttons undid themselves one by one, his belt buckle opened, the zipper of his pants was jerked down as though by some invisible grip, and then with a rather showy flash, his unbuttoned shirt flew open, revealing his bare chest and stomach, fluttering around him like a cape even though there was no breeze to blow it, and his pants simply disintegrated, ripping away both front and back like a male stripper's tearaway pants, leaving Cosmo in just his fluttering, unbuttoned shirt, skimpy thong underwear which bulged enormously with his currently oversized cock and balls, his penis having to essentially curve in on and around his testicles to stay inside the pouch of the underwear, and his shoes and socks, the latter complete with old-fashioned sock suspenders just under his knees holding them halfway up his skinny legs.

Timmy watched this in mute numbness, still processing the horror of what had happened to his parents. In the back of his mind was the repeating thought that it wasn't too late. If he could get Cosmo to do it, then there was definitely a way to undo what had been wrought and save his parents... provided he could convince Cosmo to act before his mom ate his dad. She was currently chasing him around the dinner table, hissing and meowing, as he squeaked fearfully.

Swallowing, Timmy stepped up to Cosmo, who, misinterpreting the boy's approach, grinned and leaned back, arms folded behind his head, posing in what he considered a provocative manner. "Like whatcha see?" he asked, his voice low and sultry. The bulge of his maleness in the way too tiny thong twitched, the waistband stretching so much it threatened to snap. "Why don't you get undressed yourself?"

One hand came out from behind his head. The wand was in it. He moved as though to point it at Timmy, but the boy grabbed his wrist, stopping him. Cosmo jerked up in surprise, blinking, but then he could see in the boy's eyes that he was still upset. Why? What was he still doing wrong?

"Timmy, I don't--"

"Cosmo, please," begged Timmy tearfully, "my parents..."

Cosmo's frown deepened. He couldn't believe this. Was the kid upset he'd done exactly what he wanted him to do? He wrenched his arm free of the boy's grasp and turned his back to Timmy, pouting. "What about them? You said you wanted something bad to happen to them. Well, now something has."

"Yeah, but--" Timmy began, then heard a fearful shriek of a squeal and turned, gasping at the sight of his feline mother having cornered his rodent father, claws raised for the kill. He grabbed Cosmo's shoulders and shook him. "Cosmo, please! My mom's about to slice my dad up into meat confetti! Do something!"

The fairy rolled his eyes. No pleasing some people. "Nng, fine!" he grumbled. Jutting his lower lip out in a scowly pout, he turned, pointed his wand at the cat and fired a blast of magical energy at her. Struck, she promptly swelled up like a balloon and exploded in a burst of sparkles and fur. Timmy stood agog with shock. "There," said Cosmo cheerfully. "The threat to the stupid little mouse has been removed. And as for the mouse..." He waved the wand again. A blue-tinted plastic creature habit of the kind used for hamsters and other rodents appeared on the table. The mouse that had once been Mr. Turner was lifted up and deposited inside of it. He cowered in one corner. "There," proclaimed Cosmo, "all is well."

"All is definitely not well!" screeched Timmy.

Cosmo was becoming bored with the boy's constant dissatisfaction. "Timmy," he said, an edge to his voice, "you're beginning to annoy me, which isn't easy to do."

"When I said stop my mom I didn't mean..." he struggled for the words, then mimed an explosion with his hands, spreading them wide, "y'know, kablooey! Bring her back!"

Ah, now Cosmo understood. He'd simply misunderstood what Timmy wanted. Oh well, live and learn. Of course, it was a bit late for that where Mrs. Turner was concerned. "You should've been a little more specific," he said, clucking his tongue and shaking his head. "I can't bring people, or cats, back from the dead. Your mom is gone." Timmy opened his mouth to loose a pained scream of anguish, but Cosmo silenced him by reaching down with his dainty hand and pushing up on his chin, snapping his jaw shut, then placing a finger to the boy's lips. "Ssshhh. Let's just file this under an unfortunate mishap and consider it a... learning experience." He smirked, the insane fire in his green eyes brighter now. "Be very, very careful with what you ask for, okay, sport?"

Timmy, feeling his stomach doing flip-flops and what little he'd had for dinner threatening to come back up, nodded. He didn't end up screaming after all, or vomiting, thank goodness, but he did continue to sniffle and cry.

Satisfied, Cosmo removed his finger from the boy's mouth. Using his shirt tail, he wiped the boy's eyes. "Now then. Your dad's fine for the moment. See? He enjoys his new home." Indeed, the mouse that had once been Mr. Turner was now calmer and doing ordinary mouse things like running in the little wheel provided by the habitat. "He'll make a great pet. And you'll never have to listen to him or your mom yell at you ever again."

He seemed eager to move the subject away from what had happened with Timmy's parents, and, under the thinly-veiled guise of consoling his godson, grabbed his head and held him close, though he didn't lay the boy's head upon his chest or even his belly, but on the enormous bulge stretching his thong. He practically mashed Timmy's face into it as he gently rubbed the back of the boy's head, eager to get thoughts of playtime into the boy's mind to make him forget the regrettable and disastrous family dinner.

"Now... what say you and I just forget this ever happened and have some fun like you promised we would, hmm? I know deep down you want to. I know you better than anyone, Timmy. I know what you want even if you don't know it yourself. You wanted to be free from your parents so you could spend all your time with me, your dear old fairy godfather Cosmo. Isn't that right?"

Timmy's mind was a confused whirlwind of thoughts, and he wasn't sure how to respond, especially with his face pushed into Cosmo's big throbbing junk like it was. Cosmo took his silence for consent and nodded, grinning, his happy smile returning as he tilted the boy's head back and up, allowing their eyes to meet, his green and Timmy's brown. The boy was shaking in fear and uncertainty, but the fairy took it to mean he was shaking in anticipation and desire. Good, he thought. Always better to let the bad thoughts go away and replace them with good ones. And there was nothing better for that than playtime with Cosmo. He was all ready. Now time to get Timmy ready too.

"Atta boy! Now, let's get started! What do you want to do first? .... Or shall I decide? You always seem to have much more fun when I choose what games we play, after all."

After a moment, Timmy nodded. And with that, his fate was sealed. Whatever happened beyond this point was entirely up to Cosmo. He was just plain done fighting, done trying to reason with the crazy fairy. He felt numb from the shock of witnessing what had just happened to his parents... and strangely aroused, his little cock pitching a tent in his pants. "All right, Cosmo," he said quietly, looking up, putting on a big, although completely phony, smile, "we'll play... and I'll let you decide what we do."

Cosmo practically exploded with joyous rapture, flying up into the air and spinning around in a shower of sparkles. "Stupendous!" he cried. "I knew you'd eventually come around," he said, floating down to hover directly before Timmy, gently cupping his chin and rubbing it affectionately. He wished Timmy was smiling with a little bit more sincerity, but he'd soon change that. "Tonight you'll learn that your fairy godfather aaalways knows what's best for you, my sweet little Timmy. Now then, let's--"

The doorbell rang. The two froze.

Cosmo's smile faltered a little. Who could that be? He laid a hand on Timmy's shoulder, both to reassure him and wordlessly suggest that it was in his best interest that he didn't go answer the door. "Who could that be?" When Timmy didn't respond and the bell didn't ring a second time, Cosmo said, a little quieter, "Maybe they'll go away."

Ding-dong!

No such luck. Growling, Cosmo realized he was going to have to see to this problem himself. No more interruptions!

"Go see who it is. But don't open the door. Just peer through the peephole."

Timmy nodded, hopping down from the table and scurrying off. The thought of escape didn't enter into either of their minds. Naive and innocent in his own twisted way, Cosmo implicitly trusted the boy. And Timmy had already resigned himself to whatever fate his fairy godfather had in store for him. Besides, even if he tried to escape, Cosmo would inevitably find him... and worse, make whoever attempted to aid him suffer for their efforts. He had no parents anymore. Though his father was still alive, he was no longer the Mr. Turner Timmy knew and called "Dad," nothing but a pitiful mouse in a cage. There was no one else Timmy could therefore turn to. Starting tonight, Cosmo would become his world. Everything would begin and end with Cosmo from now on.

Cosmo, for his part, smiled as he sat down on the dinner table in nothing but his jockstrap, shoes, socks and attendant sock suspenders, a look he seemed to think was quite alluring. Daintily crossing one leg in front of the other, although this did little to hide his enormous bulge, he waved his wand around idly as he waited for Timmy to report who was at the front door. Although the wand sparkled, he wasn't using it on anything at the moment, just boredly toying with it, shifting it from hand to hand and twirling it around. Noticing that the mouse in the little habitat had stopped running in his wheel and was eyeing him with barely-disguised fear, he smirked.

"Don't worry, little fella," he said, "you just stay quiet and everything'll be fine. Heh. As quiet as a mouse."

He laughed at his own joke, then scowled, but only briefly, as the doorbell rang once more, quietly promising to himself that he wouldn't be as merciful to whoever the insistent fool was if they didn't stop it and go away, especially if it was who he suspected it was. He was sick and tired of the seemingly neverending parade of blundering fools getting between him and his beloved godson, ruining their playtime, making them have to skulk around and do everything in secret. Well no more, he vowed, setting the wand aside and grabbing Timmy's fork, using it to stab a piece of pot roast and stuff it into his mouth, chewing experimentally. It was pretty good. If only Timmy's meddlesome, bickering parents hadn't ruined supper, he thought as he picked up the plate and ate from it casually, the poor boy could've concentrated on eating and had a full meal. Oh well, he mused with a mouth full of delicious meat and potatoes, eyeing a smallish carrot on the fork, contemplating it, he'd fill Timmy's belly good and proper. All. Night. Long. He grinned, swallowed his current mouthful, then ate the carrot.

"Mmmm," he said, glancing over at the mouse, "your wife, may she rest on pieces, was a pretty good cook, Mr. Turner."

The mouse squeaked and shuddered, hopping down from the wheel and cowering in the corner. Cosmo chuckled and resumed eating. What was left of Mr. Turner's mind couldn't believe any of this was happening. He was fighting a losing battle between trying to hold on to his humanity, which meant going insane, and giving in to his new rodent instincts and thoughts, which meant freedom from despair over what had happened, but the total destruction of his humanity. He didn't know which was worse. Cosmo spared him no further thoughts as he finished Timmy's plate, then set it aside, the fork clanking noisily, and, suppressing a burp, slid off the table and rose into the air, wings fluttering, to go and see what was keeping Timmy.

Meanwhile, Timmy alternated between rushing along and awkwardly shuffling to the front door, hoping and praying the bell wouldn't ring a fourth time.

Ding-dong!

He winced. So much for that. The fourth ring was followed by some rather insistent, aggressive knocking. Banging, really. Whoever it was, they sure were impatient. Rather then going immediately to the peephole, which was too high for him, he instead went to one of the windows that looked out onto the front yard. It was late afternoon by now. The sky was a forboding blood red hue as the sun slowly sank down past the trees in the distance, but there was still enough light that a few of the neighbors were out and about doing things. A man Timmy didn't recognize jogged past in nothing but running shorts and sneakers. Mr. Dinkelberg, his sleeves rolled up, was washing his car, smiling stupidly as if he didn't have a care in the world. But unfortunately, the angle the window was at didn't allow Timmy to see who was at the front door. He held his breath. Beside him, Cosmo flew in, still in just his skimpy jock and little else. Timmy glanced at him, then resumed peering out the window.

"Well...?" the fairy said, sounding impatient and a little annoyed, but not angry. He pointed his wand at the door and zapped it. There was an audible click and a sproing as the lock melted in place. Now there was no way they were getting in.

"I can't see..." Timmy complained, then went and grabbed a small chair. He started dragging it over, intending to stand on it.

"No need for that," said Cosmo, "I'll do it." He went to the peephole, closed one eye, and looked through with his open one, and saw... no one. The front porch was completely deserted. "Huh, I guess they got bored of waiting and left." He grinned and rubbed his hands together excitedly. "Oh well. So much the better for us, eh, Timmy?"

Timmy had to agree, but he wanted to make doubly sure that whoever it was who'd been ringing the bell was gone. If they'd left, he would've seen them head down the driveway. But he'd seen no one departing. So he went to the window again. Abruptly a terrifying visage filled the window frame. Oh crud, thought Timmy! Not her! Not now! Sweat poured down his face as he backed up.

"I see you in there, you little twerp!" Vicki said through the window. She rapped on the glass with her knuckles. "Open up! My key isn't working!"

Timmy's heart pounded in his chest. The babysitter from hell. Although he was sorely tempted to let Cosmo have his way and do whatever he saw fit, he made one token plea on the girl's behalf. "Cosmo," he said, his voice trembling as the fairy floated over, "it's Vicki... she--"

Cosmo palmed his face. But then he smiled happily. This was perfect. A blessing in disguise if ever there was one. More than Timmy's parents, his babysitter was someone who made the boy's life a utterly miserable, and so, provided he had a shot at her, he was going to do his godson - and the world - a big favor. "Don't you worry, Timmy, you just head upstairs and let dear ol' Cosmo handle this. Okay, ol' buddy, ol' pal?" He turned himself upside down and floated there, still grinning maniacally, the bulge in his jockstrap hanging heavily down against his flat stomach. When Timmy didn't answer, he added, hurriedly, "Okay? Okay. Good. Go! Scoot! And get naked while you're at it! Or at least in your undies!"

Timmy hesitated but a moment, before turning and bolting for the stairs. He felt Cosmo's gaze on him, particularly his rear end, as the fairy rotated his green-haired head with its gravity-defying crown around 180 degrees to stare at his godson's lovely ass without actually turning his entire body around. He licked his lips. Kicking off his shoes as he went, Timmy paused at the bottom of the steps to unzip and remove his pants, making a point of facing away from Cosmo. He was unsure if it was because he wanted to give the fairy a good view of his butt in his tighty-whities or because he was unwilling just yet to let the floating little weirdo leer at the bulging front of said underwear.

"Hurry!" urged Cosmo, his body turning around so his head wasn't backwards anymore. "I'll be up as soon as I deal with this... annoyance."

Timmy nodded. Behind him, he heard Vicki's voice through the window. "I see you in there, you little twerp! Don't think you can hide from me!" There was more banging on the door as Timmy mounted the stairs, the doorknob jiggling and rattling noisily as the increasingly more and more agitated babysitter tried it without success.

Halfway up, Timmy stripped off and threw aside his shirt. Upon making it to the second floor landing, Timmy stopped and crouched, in nothing but his underwear and his baseball cap, staring down, his position giving him a bird's eye view of the entranceway of the house, the front door looming large. Cosmo, still upside, moved towards the front door, putting one spiral-whorled ear to it and listening, grinning mischievously like someone about to surprise a friend at their birthday party. But even from as far away as up at the top of the stairs, Timmy could see the gleam of utter madness in the fairy's eyes which promised nothing good. At least not for Vicki.

Outside, Vicki banged on the door once more. Overhearing, Mr. Dinkleberg walked over. "Something the matter...?" he asked hesitantly.

"That twerp Timmy won't open the door," said the babysitter, growing angrier now.

Dinkleberg harumphed and tried the doorknob. "It's locked. Or stuck. I think the Turners have a key--" He moved to use his foot to lift up the welcome mat, but a grimacing Vicki produced the key Timmy's parents had given her. "Ah. And I assume you've tried it?"

"Yup," said Vicki in the tone of one humoring someone especially stupid.

"Then I don't think the problem is Timmy refusing to open the door," said Mr. Dinkleberg, scowling, disliking the girl's attitude. He was more concerned than angry. As unpleasant as the Turners could be, he wished no harm upon them. What if they were trapped inside and in need of assistance? He grabbed the doorknob again and threw his shoulder against the door in an attempt to break it down, but all this got him was a sore arm and a lot of eye-rolling from Vicki. He stepped back, panting and rubbing his arm. "Let's try the back door," he suggested. "If that's locked too, we can go next door to my house and call the police."

Listening through the door, Cosmo decided that it was best to allow them entry into the house via the back door. So he zipped through the house thattaways, and was ready to greet them. Sure enough, when Vicki tried the door, she found it unlocked. As the door swung inwards, she was in the middle of telling Mr. Dinkleberg to get lost, her idea of thanking him for trying to help her, when she turned and gasped at the sight of Cosmo, who floated there in all his mostly naked glory before the pair. Dinkleberg, turning, also saw him, and stared, mouth hanging open.

Vicki's first - and last - thought was that this was Timmy having dyed his hair green and pulling some kind of sick prank. She barely had time to process that and try to think up some kind of insult involving the word "twerp" when Cosmo casually lifted his wand. A bolt of magical energy arced from it and struck her. Her hair frizzed up and she was electrocuted, burning down into a pile of smoldering ashes, never even getting the chance to scream. That was the end of Timmy's horrible babysitter. Next it was the neighbor's turn. Muttering fearfully, Mr. Dinkleberg backed up, turned to run, and got the same treatment; struck in the back, he was fried to a crisp and his smoldering body crashed onto the back walkway and shattered into smoking, charred bits. Cosmo hadn't even been in the mood to do anything interesting with the interlopers; playtime with Timmy was all that mattered now, and so the sooner he got rid of outside interference, without wasting time trying to be creative about it, the sooner the rest of the evening could proceed as planned.

He blew on the star on the end of his wand like a gun barrel. "Ashes to ashes." He watched the wind blowing the crumbly, smoking remains away. "Dust to dust."

He slammed the front door, and grunted as he adjusted his jockstrap, which was straining to contain the huge erection he'd gotten from just ridding his godson of yet another of the people who did nothing but make his life miserable. The fact he was about to begin making the boy's life a living hell in his own unique, misguided way was utterly lost on Cosmo as he groaned, his cock swelling and stretching at the fabric of the jock, the waistband stretched out to damn near the breaking point. A small zap with his wand gave it a little more elasticity and the promptly zoomed back through the house and up the stairs, grinning happily as he saw Timmy still crouching at the top of the stairs waiting for him. He lighted at the bottom, looking up at him.

"Scratch one evil babysitter. Shame about the neighbor, though. He seemed like a swell guy. Oh well. Wrong place, wrong time." He didn't give Timmy time to process this. The less bad thoughts the poor boy had, the better. This was a new beginning. A time of rapturous joy and neverending play for both of them. No. More. Interruptions. He sighed, and as he did so, the waistband of his jock finally snapped, spilling his big, bulging cock and heavy balls forth. The cock jutted forwards about three feet, seeming to reached up the stairs towards Timmy as though seeking him. The balls hung heavy between Cosmo's thighs, forcing him to stand with his legs a bit apart to accomodate them. "Ahhhhh," he groaned, "that feels sooooo much better."

Timmy shivered, trying to process the fact that he'd just been told that Vicki and Mr. Dinkleberg were dead. Again he reminded himself that this was Cosmo's show now, and he was just along for the ride. He'd stopped having a say in anything that happened a long time ago. Determined to put on a brave face, he nodded and stood, unashamedly showing off the tent he was pitching in his briefs, an erection induced as much by fear and nervousness as genuine arousal at the prospect of the upcoming games with Cosmo. He was terrified... but also morbidly interested. Having lost all control of his own life, he was just curious to see what twisted things his insane fairy godfather had planned.

For a long time, neither of them spoke. The house was eerily quiet. "What game do you wanna play, Cosmo...?" he finally asked softly.

Cosmo was glad to see Timmy being so cooperative. Good. That meant he was adjusting to things well. He leaned back until he was nearly floating horizontally on his back, enormous rock hard cock jutting straight up at the ceiling. He thought and thought. Suddenly, his cock twitched, indicating he'd had an idea. He grinned and leaned back up, lifting his feet so their heels were even with his lower back, hands clasped together down along the length of his big dick. He had the perfect game to play.

"I know just what we can play, Timmy," he said, his voice changing, altering, becoming deeper and gruffer, four of his teeth, two on the top and two on the bottom, growing long and pointy, like vampire fangs. His skin began to darken, turning a gangrenous, putrid green, and his bright green eyes grew brighter and brighter until they were glowing dead white, and his body began expanding, ballooning outwards, swelling in girth and mass as he grew into something huge. Something huge and... monstrous.

"Let's play monster, Timmy, ol' buddy, ol' pal!" were his last intelligible words before he began growling and snarling.

Timmy gulped and backed up along the landing as the thing Cosmo was turning into flopped forwards and landed heavily on the stairs, making them crack, creak and buckle. It was amazing they held, because what Cosmo was turning into must've weighed about as much as a car. Grunting and groaning, the fairy's human visage warped, twisted and grew outwards into a long, crocodilian snout, his nose flaring into huge nostrils, a horn-like spout or protrusion growing from the end of the muzzle between the two nostrils. The fangs expanded until they were enormous tusks. His body ballooned out and swelled until it was grotesquely fat and flabby, with scaly, reptilian skin, arms and legs also thickening, hands becoming huge, the fingers thick like knotted sausages and ending in gnarled claws. What his feet looked like, Timmy couldn't say, because, astoudingly, Cosmo's dapper dress shoes, socks and sock suspenders remainded untouched, growing and stretching to accomodate his huge feet and much thicker legs. They, along with his mop of green hair and ever present crown, were the only remaining indications that this thing had once been Cosmo, Timmy's beloved but mentally unbalanced fairy godfather.

Where Cosmo had once been was monster indeed. A fat thing that looked like an overweight alligator with walrus tusks and a big, horn-like spout on its nose. And as a final touch, a long, thick tail sprouted out from the heavy rear end, lashing wildly, sweeping framed pictures off the wall. And somewhere under that great, flabby belly was a cock so monstrous Timmy was not really sure he wanted to see it. He whimpered. He knew this game well. To play "monster," Cosmo turned himself into something so terrifying Timmy would run screaming from it in an almost legitimate attempt to escape. With a roar, the walrus-gator lunged forwards. Timmy turned and ran down the hall. The chase was one. It was going to be short but sweet. The monster struggled up the stairs, destroying the bannister and leaving claw marks along the wall. It moved less by crawling and more by heaving the front of its surprisingly bulk forwards, then allowing its rear portion to catch up by flopping forwards to jam against it, like some hideous inchworm. As it did so, and its belly left the floor in the instant it cleared the final step, Timmy glanced back... and he saw the twisted, deformed cock of the thing. And he screamed and ran faster. Something like a laugh issued forth from the creature, a sound which was still ringing in the boy's ears as he ran into his room and slammed the door, pressing his sweating, nearly naked form back against it, as if that would keep the thing at bay. As he panted, scrawny chest heaving, he realized his own small cock was harder than ever.

The monster's bulk slammed against the door, which held on its hinges, but nevertheless began bending in the middle, slowly splintering inwards. Slobbery growls of lusty need issued forth from the other side as the thing Cosmo had become made his intentions clear to the boy: this game was going to be rough. But then, it always was when they played "monster."

The door exploded inwards in a shower of splinters. Timmy was flung forwards, his feet actually leaving the floor. His hat flew off his head and landed on the floor over by the closet, while its owner smacked into the side of the bed and fell hard on the floor on his stomach. Gasping, Timmy forced himself up onto his hands and knees, gasping at the sight of the monster squeezing its way through the doorway, its bulk pushing against the frame and warping it out of shape. Cracks radiated out from it along the wall. At first it didn't seem like the thing Cosmo had changed into was even going to fit, but he himself fit, leaving the doorframe a warped, cracked mess. Slobbering hungrily, his tusked mouth opening and closing, the walrus-gator heaved himself towards the boy, who scrambled up, but couldn't retreat any further; as he attempted to back away from the advancing creature, his butt bumped against the edge of the bed. Even as he attempted to sit so he could scoot backwards on his butt and put the bed between himself and Cosmo, the creature was upon him.

It fell onto him with all its weight, squishing him between its bulk and the bed, which groaned and shuddered and finally collapsed beneath it, the frame completely destroyed. Timmy moaned and squirmed as he was trapped between the now destroyed bed and the monster's fat belly, and he felt something hard and slimy insistently poking against his feet. He wiggled them, exploring whatever it was with his soles and probing toes, and shuddered as he was forced to conclude it was the gigantic penis he'd glimpsed earlier. The monster's hips bucked and the head of the cock, which was easily larger than Timmy's torso, forced its way between the boy's feet, spreading his legs apart. They were spread further as the thing advanced up and up, until, with a grunt, the pulsing tip of the cock was jabbing insistently at Timmy's rear end, as though Cosmo intended to take him right then and there in the missionary position, underwear be damned, the bulge of his own small cock and balls jutting up to nestle against it. Timmy had lost the monster game, as he always did. Cosmo had caught him. And now it was time for the beast to claim his prize. And the prize was always the same: that the winner got to do whatever he wanted with the loser.

For the moment, that seemed to be just dry humping him. The very floor beneath them creaked and groaned, but held - thank goodness for the house's sturdy construction, thought Timmy - as the Cosmo-thing began thrusting its hips, grinding its sensitive member against his godson, but mostly the mattress, though with each forwards thrust of that enormous dick, the tip slammed into Timmy's ass with enough power to force the air from his lungs. He struggled to breathe properly, trapped as he was under the smothering bulk of Cosmo's monster form. He was surprised he wasn't being slammed into with enough force to send him shooting out from under the monster, but he supposed the thing's weight was keeping him properly pinned. He was forced to endure being stuck underneath Cosmo as the monster he'd become fucked away merrily, until with a bellowing roar that rattled the windows, he came, and a flood of hot, thick cum, only slightly smaller than the load the fairy had blown in the bathroom early, spewed forth. It soaked into the mattress and spread over Timmy's body, smearing against the creature's belly, trapping the squirming boy in a suffocating world of cum, sweat and flab as he wriggled slickly against the heavy belly. It was too much. He damn near lost his mind and came, his little cock twitching and shuddering, filling his briefs, not that his meager load did much to soak the fabric, drenched as it was by the Cosmo-thing's enormous load already.

The thing roared again and then abruptly backed off, pulling its weight off of Timmy, long strands of the cum smearing its belly connected to the shivering body of the boy. Timmy lay there, panting, on his destroyed bed, thin chest rising and falling. The bed was flattened, the mattress and sheets and covers a tangled mess of cum and monster sweat. Timmy lay there, his bare skin covered in Cosmo's monster form's slimy mess of jizz, his whole body sore, unable to do anything but groan and wriggle. His hair was in complete disarray, sticky and gummed up as it was with jizz, plastered to his sweaty forehead. The monster reared up, looking down, regarding him with those emotionless yellow eyes, the fanged mouth hanging slightly open. Then, slowly, it raised one clawed hand, turning it palm up and laying it beside Timmy. For a moment, the boy was unsure what the thing wanted, but after he'd sufficiently collected his wits, he realized it was obvious, and, with a pained grunt and a whimper, he rolled over and crawled into the palm of the monster's hand. He was lifted up to the giant tusk-mouthed face. For a brief instant as the mouth opened slightly wider, Timmy had visions in his head of Cosmo just throwing him in and swallowing him, but instead, his tongue slid out and began licking over the boy's body. The monster growled in annoyance at the taste and feel of fabric on its tongue, and so the slimy muscle withdrew. The monster's arm extended a bit, holding Timmy out and away from itself as if he were something disgusting, and then the other hand came up, the thing sitting back on its haunches now.

The yellow eyes narrowed and one of those sharp claws came forward and the tip touched Timmy's throat. The boy held his breath. Then, slowly, the claw slid down over his thin chest and flat tummy, briefly dipping into his belly button, before hooking itself in the waistband of the boy's briefs. Timmy gasped, allowing himself to breathe again, as, with a gentle tug, the claw jerked down and tore the underwear from Timmy's body, his still hard little cock sproinging up, leaving him now entirely nude. Nodding in satisfaction, the monster brought Timmy back to its mouth and resumed licking over him with its tongue. The film of cum covering him was swiftly replaced with one of saliva. Special attention was paid to the boy's cock, the tongue squeezing between his thighs to cup it and his balls, making the boy squirm and cry out in wiggly joy as not only was his still sensitive cock being teased, but the broad tip of the tongue was pushing between his ass cheeks to slide and lick against his anus. He came a second time, another meager load splattering onto the tongue, making the monster moan in satisfaction.

The tongue retracted and resumed licking down the body, now on Timmy's legs. He lifted his feet obligingly, and the broad slimy tongue slapped wetly against them. But then the thing grunted in what seemed like annoyance and began reverting back into Cosmo, a much easier and less unpleasant-looking transformation than before. Once Cosmo was back to his normal self, he lavished attention on Timmy's feet, doing what he couldn't do with a much larger tongue and mouth... get those cute little toes! Mmmm, he groaned, licking between them, sucking each toe lovingly into his mouth. He had something of a foot fetish, or at least lately he'd been paying more attention to anything having to do with feet or shoes, which was, Timmy suspected, at least one reason why Cosmo never took his shoes and socks off, keeping them on even as a giant monster, and even now, because he just thought he looked sexy when he was naked except for his stylish, well-polished dress shoes.

After finishing sucking on Timmy's toes, the green-haired head popped up, Cosmo gasping for air. He looked uncharacteristically drained. Although it still floated above his head, his crown was crooked, his hair was a mess, the bangs stuck to his forehead, his entire body dripping in sweat, and his ordinarily well cared for shoes having gotten a most unwelcome form of shoe polish from all the cum his feet were sliding in. His wings flapped lazily rather than buzzed excitedly. His cock was still hard but drooping slightly, and of a normal size relative to his height and build, dangling between his thighs as he sat there on hands and knees before his godson. Although he was smiling, it was a weak smile, one of genuine, tired satisfaction, not his usual crazy grin, and the disturbing brightness, the fire of lusty madness, had left his eyes for the moment. His wand had reappeared and lay on the bed beside Timmy, but Cosmo didn't grab it. Instead he just panted as though his boundless energy had finally been exhausted. Seeing him in such a state, Timmy was moved to do something unexpected, and he grabbed Cosmo, pulling him up into his lap for a deep, passionate kiss. Seeing his fairy godfather panting, exhausted and sweaty, Timmy was reminded that he did actually like Cosmo a lot, even if he knew this moment, this state that Cosmo was in, was not going to last.

As their lips parted, Cosmo mumbled, "I love you, Timmy... I know you might not think so... but I do..." He was being weirdly vulnerable, shaking a bit.

"I know," Timmy said, reaching up and using his finger to fix Cosmo's crooked crown so it sat straighter in the air above his head.

"D-Do you...?" panted Cosmo. "Because I don't think you do... let me prove how much I love you."

It was a twisted love, of course. But it nevertheless came from a place of genuine desire to make Timmy happy. But the road to hell was paved with good intentions, and the only real outcome of Cosmo's efforts had been to isolate and control Timmy and keep the boy all to himself. Not that he really seemed to notice or care. And at this point... neither did Timmy, he realized as he gently stroked the fairy's forehead, pushing the green strands of hair back up to where they belonged. Everything he knew had been taken from him in one day. Cosmo was all he had left. He realized then that he may as well give himself completely to his crazy, horny fairy godfather.

And as he predicted, this moment of a vulnerable, gentle Cosmo content to simply snuggled naked with him did not last. The light, the fire, returned to his eyes, and the corners of his mouth twitched. He grabbed his wand and pushed away from Timmy, not so much as in rejection of the boy's tenderness or even to get away from him, but so he could make a show out of cleaning himself up. Because Cosmo always had to put on a performance.

"I'll show you how much I love you," said Cosmo as he rose into the air, his cock twitching, wings beating more furiously and rapidly, returning to their hummingbird-like speed. It sounded like a threat, though he hadn't meant it to. "But first, goodness, am I ever a mess. And so are you."

A wave of magic and poof! They were cleaned of all that unsightly sweat and cum. Their hair was even neatly combed. Where it all went, Timmy didn't know, nor did he really care at this point. Cosmo did a cheerful little backflip in midair, then pointed his wand at Timmy, who flinced, but when nothing happened, the boy realized his fairy godfather was just gesturing with it.

"Roll over," he commanded. "Show me that cute little heinie."

Gulping, Timmy complied, and turned over on his hands and knees facing away from Cosmo, presenting himself to the maniacally horny fairy. Cosmo's cock twitched and just about exploded from the sight of that bare ass, forcing him to smack it and and chide it as one would a misbehaving dog. Glancing back at him over his shoulder, Timmy watched Cosmo mumble something and give his dick a good zap with the wand, and it began growing... and growing... and growing. It made meaty stretching sounds as it swelled in size, his balls matching it inch for inch. The naked boy began to tremble. This time, he knew, Cosmo was putting that humungous shaft in him. He wouldn't settle for just grinding against him again. And true to form, once the cock had reached what Cosmo considered an optimal length and girth - three feet long and about a foot and a half in diameter - Cosmo grinned and bucked his hips suggestively, making his humongous phallus bounce. It was already drooling precum.

"Cosmo, that thing's not gonna fit..." whimpered Timmy.

"Sure it is, ol' buddy, ol' pal!" declared Cosmo, fluttering over to position himself above the boy, the swollen head of that monster kissing Timmy's little butt. "You just gotta believe! Believe and let my love for you work its magic!"

Timmy sighed. What else could he do but endure? Cosmo grabbed his shoulders for leverage and with a grunt, the fairy began pushing forwards with his slim hips. At first nothing happened. The swollen head just shoved Timmy across the matress. But Cosmo was determined. He'd fucked Timmy before, but never with his cock so huge, and he was determined that his cock match the size of his declared love for his godson, and so no matter what, it was fitting. Releasing Timmy's shoulders, he grabbed the boy's butt cheeks and spread them, exposing his quivering, puckered anus, and shoved forwards with all his might, managing to work the very tip in. Even that was almost more than Timmy could handle, and the boy cried out. Mercilessly, Cosmo's cock battered its way in the second the rectum gave, the head and the rest of the shaft following the tip, and Timmy was sure it was going to go straight through his guts and come out of his mouth, but it didn't, at least for a moment, though it made an enormous bulge in his middle; his entire torso was shaped like Cosmo's cock.

Cosmo groaned and began thrusting, and as he did, he began to change again. It seemed the game of "monster" wasn't over yet. Again, his face stretched out into a broad muzzle, his yawning maw filling with rows of fangs. His body took on odd proportions, a slightly hourglass shape with a small, puny chest, but an enormous, pear-shaped belly and haunches, from behind which sprouted a long, thick tail. And although his arms turned to sticks practically, ending in grasping, bony-fingered hands, his legs swelled, muscular and powerful, huge feet still contained in shoes and socks and sock suspenders, which had expanded to match as before. He'd turned into a Tyrannosaurus rex, or something close to one. And like his previous monster form, his T-rex form still had his green hair and crown. The Cosmosaurus roared and bucked his hips, savage and brutal, each push forwards lifting Timmy up into the air to smack against the fat belly, then slam back down against the torn, mangled bit of furniture that had once been his bed.

So, thought Timmy, powering mentally through the bizarre mixture of pain and pleasure - throughout if all, of course, his cock stayed hard, as he was beginning to truly enjoy Cosmo's treatment of him - here I am, being fucked by a Tyrannosaurus. Who'd have guessed this is where I'd end up when I came home from school today? But Cosmo had darker plans, an idea that had popped into his mind when he'd declared earlier that he'd show Timmy how much he loved him, and this wasn't it. This was just an extension of the monster game, a last little bit of fun before the insane fairy finally enacted his true plan, one that would allow him to keep his godson all to himself forever, never having to share him with anyone else. It was time for him and Timmy to get... closer. Much closer. Though he wasn't thinking about that just at this moment. Being a dinosaur, he a had dinosaur-sized brain and consequently wasn't really what you'd call capable of being a master planner. He instead just gave in to his horny prehistoric isntincts and fucked the small boy before him.

When he came, Timmy's body couldn't handle it. The T-rex's cock twitched and spurted forth its load with such force that the boy should've been blown off the end of the cock and rocketed across the room, but those grasping, clawed hands kept him pressed down firmly, so firmly that the invading cock went up further and bulged out Timmy's neck. Some of the cum, under tremendous pressure, erupted out of Timmy's ass, spraying and splorting around the invading cock, but the majority of it had to go upwards. Timmy felt an enormous pressure building up inside of his head, behind his face. Instinctively, his hands flew up to grab at his face, lest it be blown off, but he felt a sudden rushing of hot thick liquid up his throat, like he had to pike, and then, with the force of a thousand firehouse, dinosaur cum promptly spewed forth from his open mouth and even his nostrils! There seemed to be no end to it as it kept pumping and pumping. More of it leaked out of Timmy's ears, and, just as Cosmo's orgasm hit its crowning glory of powerful pumping pleasure, cum erupted from Timmy's eyes, bursting around his eyeballs with such force that the boy was amazed they didn't pop out of their sockets. The Cosmosaurus threw back his head and loosed a roar that shook the entire house as cum continued to spray from every orifice on Timmy's face and head; eyes, nose, mouth and ears. It was a sight to behold.

The Cosmosaurus grunted in appreciation and slowly began extracting his monstrously huge cock from Timmy's asshole, inch by inch, even as he began reverting to his normal fairy form. "See, Timmy," he cooed softly once he was back to normal, his cock popping free of the boy's ass, leaving it momentarily gaping and oozing cum. "Wasn't that a fun game...?"

If Timmy agreed it would have to be interpreted. He opened his mouth to say something, and a torrent of cum came flooding out. He coughed and gagged, one hand weakly flying up to wipe at his eyes and nose, and though he tried to talk, all he could do was make gurgling phlegmy noises in his throat. He was just about spent from all this "fun." After a moment, he gave a definite answer to Cosmo's question by nodding.

Cosmo chuckled and patted him on the back to help him cough the cum up. Welp, he thought, no time like the present. He used his fluttering wings to lift himself up off the bed and into the air, though he was weighed down a bit by his still gigantic - dinosaur-sized! - cock and balls, which, with a wave of his wand, he made grow bigger and bigger, until his cock was so huge and thick it looked like it could swallow someone whole, and his balls were the size of a particularly big beanbag chair. "And now, Timmy, it's time for our final game..."

Shaking, Timmy looked up at him, and found himself staring right into the gaping urethra of the gigantic dick. He jerked back in surprise and wound up lying splayed out on his back, panting, eyes huge as he stared up at his insane fairy godfather. Final game? Of the night? Or...? He didn't want to ask because he didn't want to know. All he managed to mumble out was, "Cosmo...?"

"I've come up with a brilliant plan to keep you all to myself, Timmy," the grinning fairy said. "I admit it's a little greedy of me, but what can I say? I don't like sharing you and never have. So I'm gonna put you someplace where nobody else can get to you." So saying, he gave his huge cock a loving stroke with one hand.

Timmy gulped. As submissive as he was to Cosmo now, he was apprehensive about where this was going, though he wouldn't get the chance to properly protest. For Cosmo, who'd been holding that mammoth member aloft, allowed it to drop down. It slammed into Timmy, knocking the wind out of him, making the mattress sag under its titanic weight. Timmy gagged and gasped as he was momentarily trapped underneath it. Cosmo posed with his arms behind his head, and bucked his hips. Each forward thrust lifted the cock off of the boy, each backwards movement of his hips causing it to slam back down, repeatedly battering Timmy's frail body, as though the fairy were intent on pounding the little defiance and hesitation that remained in his godson right out of him. It was working. The gasping, groaning Timmy could do nothing but weakly squirm as the heavy member repeatedly slammed down against him, and all the while, hovering above, Cosmo was slowly losing control. Beads of sweat broke out on his naked body, and the wild look in his almost luminescent green eyes grew so feral that it didn't seem as though there was anything sane left behind them, his smile, though still huge and showing all of his teeth in a creepy rictus grin, was twitching. He couldn't stand it anymore. He had to have Timmy all to himself, and he had to have him right now.

Panting, sweat pouring down his naked form, he adjusted himself in the air, butt up, cock hanging down heavily, pre oozing from the tip. "Say goodbye to the world, Timmy," he said, "and hello to your dear ol' pal Cosmo's balls!"

Before giving the sprawled, panting boy a chance to react, he bucked his hips forwards so that his cock dipped down, forwards and up in a scooping motion, the slit at the tip yawning, and the barely conscious boy managed a gasp of surprise as he felt his skinny body swallowed into it. He half slid, half tumbled into the urethra, which closed after him, trapping him in total darkness. He couldn't see anything, but he felt himself tumbling and sliding down the interior of the shaft, which was so perfectly lubed with fairy cum that he faced no obstruction whatsoever. Outside, Cosmo just about went mad with wiggly joy at finally taking his godson into his cock, and almost came, but knew that if he did, he'd just launched Timmy right back out, and he couldn't have that, so he exerted a tremendous amount of self-control, a level which he had previously thought himself incapable, and held back that impending orgasm, though at the momentary cost of what little sanity he had left. His green hair plastered to his perspiring forehead, he gasped, whined and moaned and threw back his head, muttering, "Oh, Timmy!" over and over as the tingles and shudders of the suppressed climax, which was becoming increasingly difficult to hold back the deeper the boy slid, but he managed.

Timmy, for his part, continued falling ever deeper into slimy darkness until his body reached and slid through an opening of some sort, which he realized must be the base of Cosmo's cock leading into his balls. He was proven right as he tumbled into a vast open space and splashed into a slimy reservoir of what could only be cum. God, he thought, how much jizz did his crazy fairy godfather have left in him after all the orgasms? Enough, he thought as he floundered and sloshed through the waist deep liquid. Perhaps even as much as he wanted forever. There was no telling with Cosmo. He tried to collect his wits. Now that Cosmo had him right where he wanted him... what did he plan on doing with him? Keeping him in there forever? Letting him out eventually? And if so... in what condition, exactly? Timmy gulped as he felt the liquid around him beginning to churn and bubble like stew in a pot. A tingling numbness was beginning to creep up his body... he slowly began to realize he couldn't feel his legs.

Yes, thought Cosmo! Yes! At long last, mine! All mine! He lay back on what was left of Timmy's bed and shrank his cock back down to a more manageable size, but kept his balls nice and huge for the moment. With both hands and feet, he rubbed possessively over the swollen orbs containing his godson, who he knew already wasn't going to be getting out of there, at least not in his present physical condition. At long last, Timmy was all his. His to protect from the rigors and frustrations of the cruel world... his to churn into a delightful load of hot stick cum. He giggled crazily, and waved his wand, eager to expedite the process. After all, the sooner Timmy gurgled away into nothing but jizz, the sooner he could finally cum.

Inside his balls, Timmy flailed, feeling his body softening. His insides changed first, and he burped up mouthful after mouthful of what had once been his organs but were now just thick wads of Cosmo's cum. As his legs liquefied and gave way, he pitched face first into the churning stew, which flowed over him greedily, sucking him down into its depths even as it digested his small body into more of itself, adding to its volume, which swelled to fill the chamber further. There was no pain for Timmy, just a gradual loss of any physical sensations followed by a lose of cohesive self as his molecules were broken down and separated to flow into the burbling pool. Past a certain point, he gave in completely, and his final coherent thought was that this was somehow... right... somehow good. As Cosmo's cum, he wouldn't have to worry about the hardships of childhood any longer, because cum didn't care about such things. He gurgled away into nothing but jizz for the horny fairy.

Cosmo groaned, sensing Timmy's gradual destruction and addition to his volume of cum. "Timmy, I love you soooo much," he whimpered. "Now we'll never be apart. Now you'll always be part of me." He felt that pesky orgasm pounding at the back of his mind, like an annoying neighbor trying to get in, and allowed it to overtake him at least. "What little of you I don't splatter all over this room, anyway."

He came. It was an orgasm like no other. He threw back his head, green hair damp with sweat, arching his back, and his cock bucked upwards as the pleasure coursed through him, the cock twitching and spewing forth a fountain of cum like a high pressure firehouse. What had once been Timmy shot out in great, thick, sticky hot wads to splatter against the ceiling and walls, dripping down onto the panting, squirming Cosmo, whose hips bucked, causing his spewing cock to flop up and down, sending the torrent of jizz to splatter every which way, coating Timmy's entire room in a layer of hot, sticky whiteness.

Gasping, panting, sweat pouring down every inch of his naked body, Cosmo flung himself back against the now thoroughly squishy bed and lay there for a few moments while his cock continued burping cum out of itself and his huge balls gurgled emptily. Once he'd sufficiently gathered his wits, he managed to sit himself up a bit, smiling tiredly, though no less enthusiastically. Now that, he thought, was a fun game. One he was surprised he'd never played with Timmy before. Probably because, he reminded himself, he could only do it once. Oh well. He shrank his cock and balls back down to ordinary size and gave the latter a firm, possessive grope. Timmy was his at last. All his. His and no one else's. It warmed his heart and made him feel truly successful as the boy's fairy godfather knowing that Timmy would be forever protected from the evils of the world now that he was a pairt of him forever.

My, my, but what a mess he'd made! He looked around at the room, which dripped from floor to ceiling in his hot, thick jizz. It pooled on the floor and oozed down the walls. Goodness gracious, thought Cosmo, he'd better clean this up. Nevermind that there was really no one left in the Turner household to clean it up for. A wave of his wand and Timmy's bedroom was restored to normal, the way it'd looked before the game of "monster" had begun earlier that evening. Cosmo glanced out the window and saw that darkness had fallen in the time they'd spent playing their games. My, how time flew. He flapped his wings and hovered in the air, then made for the bathroom. Although he'd cleaned up the room, he himself remained a sweaty, hot mess. This he hurriedly fixed with another wave of his wand while looking at himself in the mirror. Once more his hair was styled perfectly, every bit of it in place, and he was no longer naked apart from shoes and socks, his shirt, tie and pants having reappeared. Lookin' good, he thought, giving his tie a cursory little adjustment.

Guess I'm master of the house now, he thought. "Well, Timmy," he said, looking down at his crotch in the reflection, "all's well that ends well, eh? I hope you're happy in your new home of my big ol' balls." He gave his bulge a squeeze and groaned, then let up. Ugh, no need to get horny again now. He was too tired for that. The day's events had sapped him of his seemingly boundless energy. He'd figure out what to do with the mouse that used to be Timmy's father later. Cosmo was thinking he'd made a great pet. In the meantime, though, it was bedtime. He yawned and stretched. "Goodnight, Timmy. Like I said... I love you more than you'll ever know, and I hope I finally proved it to you."

Now, his only dilemma was which bed did he choose. Timmy's or his parents'? As much as the master bedroom appealed to him, he finally decided after some thinking that the boy's bedroom would be the most fitting for his first night as master of the house. Having made his decision, he looked back up at the mirror and grinned.

The reflection grinned back.

The End.