Mr Big's tower loomed over them like a jagged tooth, its obsidian surface swallowing the sunlight. Timmy squirmed against the rough grip of the Rockies, their calloused fingers digging into his slim arms as they hauled him toward the gaping entrance. (This isn't like the cartoon, their breath smells like rotten meat, and their eyes don't have that goofy sparkle.)
Mr Big jabbed the remote's buttons frantically, his claws clicking against plastic. "Why won't this blasted thing...? Bah! Take the boy below. And don't let him blink without my say-so."
The elevator doors slid shut behind Mr Big with a hiss, trapping Timmy with the Rockies in the cavernous lobby. One of them, a hulking brute with a scar splitting his lip, grinned down at him. "Little mammal squeaks like prey," he rumbled, giving Timmy's shoulder a squeeze that made his bones creak.
(Okay, okay, think... Jamie and Mick are still out there somewhere. Gotta stall.) Timmy forced a shaky laugh. "Y'know, in the show, you guys were way cooler. Less... stinky." The Rockies exchanged confused glances before dragging him toward a spiral staircase that plunged into darkness.
Cold air rushed up from the dungeon, carrying the scent of damp stone and something metallic. Timmy's sneakers skidded against the uneven steps as they descended, his heart hammering against his ribs. (If I can just...) A sudden jerk from the lead Rocky yanked him forward, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of peach skin against the chill.
"Quit wriggling," the caveman growled, his hot breath stirring Timmy's hair. "Boss wants you whole. For now."
The cell door groaned open, its rusted hinges leaving flakes of iron on Timmy's sleeve as they shoved him inside. He caught himself against the far wall, palms scraping rough-hewn rock. (No remote, no weapons... just me.) Outside, the Rockies' laughter echoed down the corridor, mingling with the drip of distant water. Timmy pressed his forehead to the cold stone. (Jamie always says I talk too much... but talking's the only thing I've got left.) He sucked in a breath, tasting mildew and his own fear. "Hey! Hey, ugly! You forgot to tuck me in!" His voice bounced off the walls, sharp and bright as a thrown rock. Somewhere above, a door slammed.
(Near the top of Mr Big's tower. Mr Big's office.)
Sitting at his desk, Mr Big repeatedly pressed buttons on the remote, his snout wrinkling as nothing was happening. "Bone-headed device," he muttered, throwing it onto the polished stone surface with a clatter.
Link, lounging nearby with a hunk of meat in his fist, shrugged. "Maybe it's broken."
Missy rolled her eyes, blowing a strand of platinum hair from her face as she inspected her freshly painted nails. "Oh wow, Link, real genius deduction," she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "That little boy made it work just fine... maybe he's got more brains than you."
Link's grip tightened around his meal, grease dripping onto the floor as he glared at her. "Oh yeah? Then why don't *you* go get him to spill his guts?" His voice was a low growl, but there was a flicker of something cunning behind his dull eyes.
Mr Big's claws tapped thoughtfully against the desk. "Actually... that's not a terrible idea," he mused, his grin widening as he turned to Missy. "Use that pretty face of yours. Seduce the boy... make him *want* to tell you everything."
Missy's lips curled into a smirk, though her fingers twitched slightly against her thigh. (Little brat's barely taller than my hip... this'll be *interesting.*) "Oh wow, like, totally on it," she purred, swinging her leopard-print bag onto her shoulder with practiced ease. The elevator doors groaned open, revealing the dim-lit shaft, a gaping maw leading downward.
Stepping inside, she leaned against the brass railing, watching her reflection distort in the polished metal. (The kid is already a pain in my ass. Bet he's never even seen a woman like me up close.) The descent vibrated through her heels, sending a tingle up her calves. She licked her lips, strawberry gloss, just sticky enough to leave a mark if she pressed them to his ear.
By the third floor down, she'd rehearsed it all: the accidental brush of her breast against his shoulder, the way she'd nibble her lower lip when pretending to listen, the slow drag of her fingernails along his wrist if he hesitated. (Gonna make him squirm till he's spilling more than just that device's secrets.) The elevator shuddered to a halt, and she straightened, rolling her shoulders back to let her dress dip just a fraction lower.
The dungeon air hit her like a damp fist, moss and iron and something sweetly rotten. Missy's heels clicked against the stone, her hips swaying with exaggerated rhythm, each step making the frayed hem of her dress flutter. (Better give the guards a show too.) She trailed a hand along the rusted bars as she passed, humming softly, a pop song that bounces in her mind. The cells ahead loomed darker, but she could already picture him: that scrawny frame hunched in shadow, those too-big eyes widening as she stepped into the light.
The two guards that are posted outside Timmy's cell are two of the dumbest Rockies in the cave. They're so dumb that they don't even know what is going on most of the time. Missy walks up to them with a confident stride, her heels clicking against the stone floor. "Oh wow, like, you guys are *totally* needed somewhere else right now," she says with a flip of her hair.
The guards look at each other, confused. "Uh... we are?" one of them asks.
Missy rolls her eyes and plucks the keys from his belt loop before he can react. "Duh, like, Mr Big said so? You're *so* fired if you don't go *right now*." The guards scramble away, tripping over each other in their haste.
Timmy was lying on the lumpy straw pallet that served as a bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to ignore the way his stomach growled. The sudden creak of the cell door made him sit up fast, his pulse jumping. When he saw Missy standing there, her platinum hair catching the dim torchlight like a halo, his mouth went dry. (She's even prettier in real life. Her dress is way shorter than the cartoon.) "Missy?" he blurted, voice cracking mid-syllable.
Her lips curved into a smirk, red and glossy. "Oh wow, like, you *know* my name?" She stepped inside, the door clanging shut behind her with finality. The keys dangled from her fingers for a heartbeat before she let them slip between her cleavage, disappearing into shadow. Timmy's eyes followed the movement helplessly, his throat tight. (They're right there. If I could just...) "Uh-huh," she purred, tapping one manicured nail against her collarbone. "Good luck getting these, short stuff."
The cell suddenly felt smaller, the air thick with the scent of her strawberry lip gloss and something warmer, muskier. Timmy's palms prickled with sweat as he edged back against the wall. (She's taller than me. Way taller.)
Missy tilted her head, studying him like a cat with a cornered mouse. "Sooo," she drawled, slinking closer, "you're the little genius who made Mr Big's toy go all... *zappy*." Her heel caught on the straw pallet, sending her stumbling forward, right into him. Timmy gasped as her weight pressed him flat, her breasts crushing against his chest, her thighs bracketing his hips. (Oh god oh god she's so heavy...) "Whoopsie," she breathed, her lips a hair's breadth from his ear. "Guess you're *stuck* under me now."
Timmy gulped, his throat clicking audibly. "I... uh... that's not..."
Her finger pressed against his lips, silencing him with the sticky-sweet taste of strawberry gloss. "Shhh," she murmured, her breath warm against his cheek. "You talk *way* too much." Then her mouth was on his, sudden and demanding, her teeth nipping at his lower lip. Timmy's hands flew up instinctively, gripping her waist, so slim under the dress, her hipbones sharp against his palms, as fireworks exploded behind his eyelids.
Missy groaned into the kiss, surprised by the way his inexperienced mouth moved against hers, eager and clumsy and *perfect*. (Kid kisses like he's starving...) Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him gasp, and she took advantage, deepening the kiss until his legs trembled beneath her. (Why does this feel *good*? He's just a brat...) But the thought shattered when he moaned, high and desperate, his hips jerking up against hers.
"Whoa," she breathed against his lips, pulling back just enough to see his flushed face, his pupils blown wide, his lips glistening with her gloss. "Like, someone's *way* into this."
Timmy's cheeks burned hotter, his grip tightening on her waist as if she might vanish. "I... it's just... you're... soft," he stammered, and Missy burst out laughing, the sound bouncing off the stone walls.
(Oh wow, he's *adorable*.) She leaned down again, this time dragging her teeth along his jawline, savoring the way his breath hitched. "Tell me about the device, kiddo," she murmured, her tongue tracing the shell of his ear. "And maybe I'll show you how *else* I can be soft."
Timmy shuddered, his fingers digging into her hips, but his voice was steadier than she expected. "N-no way."
Missy paused, lifting her head to study him. (Damn. Kid's got *spine*.) Grinning, she nipped at his collarbone through the thin fabric of his shirt. "Oh wow, like, *totally* playing hard to get?" Her hand slid down his chest, lower, until his whole body went rigid. "Bet I can make you *softer*."
Timmy gasped as she sits up on his lap, her bare skin scorching against the rough denim covering his thighs. "O-oh wow," he stammered, fingers digging into her thighs as she began rocking, slow at first, then with deliberate, rolling motions that made his vision blur. (She's *naked* under there. Holy shit holy shit...)
Missy's lips curved into a feline smile, her breath hitching when she felt the unmistakable ridge of him straining beneath her. "Whoa," she purred, shifting her weight to grind harder, the wet heat of her seeping through his jeans. "Like, *somebody* packed a surprise~"
His hips jerked involuntarily, a strangled noise escaping his throat as she rode the friction with practiced ease. (She's doing this *on purpose*...)
Missy leaned down, her hair curtaining their faces as she whispered, "C'mon, baby... just tell me how that *stupid* thing works."
Timmy's nails scraped lightly up her outer thighs, tracing the goosebumps rising there, but his voice came out wrecked and stubborn. "N-not... *ah*... not happening."
She laughed, low and throaty, and rolled her hips in a slow circle that dragged his zipper against her swollen clit. Timmy's back arched off the pallet, his teeth sinking into his lower lip to muffle a whimper. (Fuck, she's gonna kill me...)
Missy watched his eyelashes flutter, the way his chest heaved, and something hot coiled in her belly. (Why's this turning *me* on? He's just a kid...) But the thought evaporated when he suddenly gripped her waist and thrust up, grinding against her with desperate, clumsy urgency.
Her breath caught, sharp, and for a heartbeat, the game slipped. "Oh *fuck*..." The words tumbled out before she could stop them, her thighs clamping around him as pleasure licked up her spine. Timmy's eyes flew open at her tone, dark and glazed, and for the first time, Missy wondered who was really seducing who.
She recovered fast, forcing a smirk as she pressed her chest flush against his, the heat of her skin seeping through his thin shirt. "Like, tell me your *name*, baby," she breathed, dragging her lips along his temple. "Where'd you *come* from?" Her voice dripped honey, but her hips kept moving, slow circles that made his breath stutter.
"T-Timmy," he gasped, fingers flexing against her ribs. "From...*ah*... far away..." His hips jerked again, desperate, and Missy bit back a moan as the friction sent sparks skittering behind her eyelids. (Kid's got *rhythm*...)
She pulled back just enough to see his face, sweat-slick and stubborn. "Oh wow," she murmured, thumbing his lower lip, sticky with her gloss. "Tell me how that device you had works, Timmy." Her breasts pressed against his chest, warm and heavy, her nipples hardening through the thin leopard print as she rocked against him.
Timmy's breath hitched, his fingers tightening on her hips—but his voice came out steady. "No way. I'm not telling that scaly creep *anything*." His refusal, raw and defiant, sent an unexpected thrill through Missy's body.
Missy bits her bottom lip and her heat beats faster for Timmy. She can't help but think about the boy's courage, the way he stands his ground even as she grinds against him, her breasts pressing into his chest with each breath. (Damn, he's got more guts than Link and the Rockies combined...) She leans in closer, her lips brushing his earlobe as she whispers, "Oh wow, Timmy, like, you're *totally* not like the other guys," her voice saccharine-sweet but her pulse thrumming with something sharper. "Most boys would've spilled *everything* by now... but you?" Her fingers trail down his side, nails scraping lightly over his ribs. "You're *different*."
Timmy shivers as her breath ghosts over his neck, his hips twitching involuntarily beneath her. "Y-yeah? Well, maybe I just don't trust *you*," he manages, though his voice wavers when she rolls her hips in a slow, torturous circle.
Missy chuckles, low and throaty, dragging her tongue along the shell of his ear. "Oh wow, like, *trust* is *so* overrated," she purrs, her hands sliding up to frame his face, her thumbs tracing the hollows of his cheeks. "But you *do* trust me enough to let me do *this*..." Her knee presses between his thighs, deliberate, and Timmy chokes back a whimper.
She watches his lashes flutter, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard. (Kid's tougher than he looks... and way more fun.) But beneath the game, beneath the seduction, something unfamiliar twists in her chest, something like respect. (He's not breaking. Not even close.) And for the first time, Missy wonders if maybe, just maybe, she's the one being played.
Timmy's fingers tremble against her waist, but his voice doesn't waver. "Missy... you don't have to do this. I know you're not like them." His whisper is raw, earnest, cutting through the humid air between them. "You could help us. You *should*."
She scoffs, rolling her eyes, but her hips still, just for a heartbeat. "Oh wow, like, what's *that* supposed to mean?" Her fingers tighten in his hair, tugging just enough to sting. (Why does his sincerity sting worse?) "You're, like, * a kid*. Whatcha gonna do against Mr Big? Throw your *action figures* at him?"
Timmy doesn't flinch. Instead, his hands slide up to cradle her face, thumbs brushing the sharp angles of her cheekbones. "I know you're good inside," he murmurs, his breath mingling with hers. "And I *believe* in you."
Missy freezes, her pulse suddenly too loud in her ears. (No one's ever...) His words settle deep, peeling back layers she didn't know she had. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, until she's staring into his eyes, really staring, and the world tilts.
Then she crashes her lips against his, fierce and hungry, her fingers knotting in his shirt like she's drowning. The kiss is messy, desperate, all teeth and clashing tongues, but Timmy meets her with equal fervor, his hands sliding down to grip her hips like she's the only solid thing left. When she finally pulls back, gasping, her lipstick is smeared across his mouth like a battle flag.
(Shit. *Shit.*) She presses her forehead to his, her breathing ragged. "Oh wow," she whispers, voice cracking. "Like... *totally* messed that up."
Timmy's fingers twitch against her bare thighs, creeping higher under the frayed hem of her dress. His palms skim the warm skin of her legs, softer than he imagined, then glide upward, hesitating just below the curve of her ass. (This isn't happening. This *can't* be happening.) But when Missy exhales sharply against his lips, his resolve snaps. His hands slide up, gripping her bare cheeks with a startled gasp. (Holy shit she's not wearing...) The flesh gives under his fingers, impossibly plush, the heat of her searing through his palms.
Missy jerks back, eyes wide, her valley-girl cadence evaporating. "*Timmy*," she hisses, but it's not anger in her voice, it's something raw, something hungry. She crashes into him again, her kiss bruising, teeth scraping his lip as she grinds down hard enough to make his spine arch.
A moan tears from her throat when his thumbs dig into the crease where her thighs meet her ass, clumsy but eager. (Kid's got *hands*.) The thought scatters as his hips buck beneath her, the rough denim of his jeans dragging against her slick folds. She gasps, her nails biting into his shoulders, and for one dizzying moment, neither remembers who's supposed to be seducing who.
Timmy breaks the kiss first, panting, his pupils blown so wide they swallow the brown. "Missy," he rasps, voice wrecked. "I... I really like you... I always have....."
"Oh wow," she breathes, rolling her hips slow and deliberate, making his breath hitch. "Like, *totally* not the time, kiddo." But her fingers tremble against his collarbones, betraying her. She sits up abruptly, straddling his lap, and hooks her thumbs under the hem of his striped shirt. "This? *So* last season."
Timmy whimpers but lifts his arms obediently, letting her peel the fabric up over his head. The air is cold against his bare chest, but Missy's hands are warmer, tracing the smooth planes of his ribs with a reverence that surprises them both. (No abs, no scars... just soft. Like he's never been touched before.) Her thumbs brush his nipples, pale pink, barely raised, and his gasp echoes off the damp stone.
His hands find her ass again, squeezing with renewed desperation, fingers sinking into the plush flesh as she arches into his touch. (Holy shit, she's *so* soft...) Missy moans, low and throaty, when his blunt nails scrape the crease where her cheeks meet her thighs. "Oh *fuck*," she hisses, grinding down hard enough to make his hips jerk. (Kid's got some skills...)
Timmy's breath hitches as she leans down, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. "Tell me one thing," she whispers, voice raw. "Just one." Her teeth graze his earlobe, and his grip tightens instinctively. "Have you ever been screwed silly before Timmy?"
His blush deepens, spreading down his neck, and he shakes his head frantically. "N-no!"
Missy chuckles, slow and dangerous, then hooks her thumbs under the hem of her dress. With a flick of her wrists, the leopard print slithers up over her hips, her waist, then, oh *god* her breasts. The fabric pools around her neck for a heartbeat before she yanks it off completely, tossing it aside with a flourish.
Timmy's mouth falls open. Her skin glows in the torchlight, golden and slick with sweat, her nipples peaked and dusky pink against the swell of her breasts. She arches her back just enough to make them jounce slightly, the movement hypnotic. "Well?" Her smirk is all teeth. "Like what you see, short stuff?"
The words die in his throat. His fingers twitch against her thighs, torn between reaching out and shielding his eyes. (She's *real*. Not a cartoon. Not a dream.) Her scent, warm skin and strawberry gloss, floods his senses as she shifts above him, her bare hips grinding down with deliberate slowness. His groan is muffled against her collarbone when her nipple brushes his lips, the peak hardening instantly against his tongue.
"O-oh wow," she gasps, her voice cracking as his hands finally, *finally* slide up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing her nipples in tentative circles. The shudder that wracks her body is violent, unexpected, her nails digging into his shoulders as she grinds down harder. (Kid's gonna ruin me...) Her breath comes in ragged bursts, her usual drawl shattered into something desperate. "S-so? Gonna tell me how that stupid thing works now?"
Timmy's lips curl into a shaky grin against her skin. "N-no way," he breathes, his fingers tightening just enough to make her gasp. "B-but keep asking. I...*ah*... I like your... negotiation style."
Missy's laugh is half-moan, her hips stuttering against his. "Oh wow," she pants, her forehead dropping to his. "Like, *totally* not how this was supposed to go..." But her lips find his again, hungry and unsteady, and for once, she doesn't care about the plan at all.
Timmy's fingers knead her breasts with clumsy urgency, his thumbs circling her nipples in ways that make her spine arch. (Kid's got *instincts*.) "D-don't stop," she gasps, her voice cracking as he pinches gently, just enough to send sparks skittering down her thighs. Her nails dig into his shoulders, anchoring herself as pleasure coils tighter, hotter, *deeper*. "Oh *fuck*, Timmy..."
He swallows her moan, his hips bucking beneath her, the rough denim of his jeans dragging against her bare skin. His hands roam higher, cupping the weight of her breasts, his palms brushing the sensitive undersides with a reverence that steals her breath. (Nobody's ever touched me like this, like I'm something *precious*.)
Missy grinds down harder, her thighs trembling, her pulse thundering in her ears. "Like, *tell* me," she pleads between kisses, her voice raw and ragged. "Tell me *anything*..." But the words dissolve into a shuddering gasp as his teeth graze her collarbone, his fingers rolling her nipples in slow, relentless circles. (I'm gonna...*oh god*...)
Missy pushed herself up slightly, arching her back to give him better access, her breath hitching as Timmy leaned forward to latch onto her right breast with surprising precision. "Oh wow...*fuck*... you've, like, *totally* done this before," she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair as his tongue flicked over her nipple in slow, torturous circles. Her eyes nearly crossed when he suddenly sucked hard, the sharp pull sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core that made her thighs clamp around his hips. (Nobody's ever gotten it *right* like this... not Link, not any of those meathead Rockies...*how* is a kid this good?)
Timmy released her with a wet pop, his lips glossy and swollen, his breath ragged against her damp skin. "No I... haven't done this before," he admitted between panting kisses along the swell of her breast, "but I *dreamed* about it... about you... since I was *eight*." His teeth grazed her areola in a way that made her thighs tremble, his fingers kneading her other breast with desperate precision.
"Oh *wow*," Missy whimpered, arching harder as his tongue swirled around her nipple in tight, perfect circles, her hips grinding down in unconscious rhythm. (Kid's *studied* me... those big young eyes memorized every curve...) Her fingers clenched in his hair when he switched sides, his warm mouth enveloping her left breast with the same focused intensity. "T-Timmy...*fuck*... like, how're you *this* good?"
His answer vibrated against her skin between sucks. "Paid attention. " Before he sealed his lips around her again, his thumb rolling the other nipple now in synchronized circles that sent liquid heat pooling between her legs. (Holy *shit*...) Missy's head fell back with a moan that echoed off the dungeon walls, her body bowing under his mouth like a sapling in a storm.
She barely recognized her own voice when it cracked out, high and broken: "Oh wow oh wow *fuck* don't stop don't..." Her plea dissolved into a shuddering gasp as Timmy hummed against her breast, the vibrations ricocheting straight to her clit. (Gonna come... just from his *mouth*...) Her fingers scrabbled at his shoulders, nails leaving crescent moons in their wake, as pleasure coiled impossibly tighter.
Timmy wraps his slim arms around Missy's waist, pulling her flush against him as his lips latch onto her left nipple with renewed hunger. "Oh wow... oh *fuck*," she gasps, her fingers scrabbling at his shoulders when his tongue flicks rapidly over the sensitive peak. His hands slide down her back, fingers digging into the plush flesh of her asscheeks, squeezing and kneading with a desperation that makes her toes curl. "Like, *yes*... just like that..." Her voice cracks as he groans against her skin, the vibration sending shockwaves through her body.
Missy's hips jerk forward involuntarily, grinding against the damp denim covering his lap, the friction maddening. (Holy shit... *he's* leaking through his clothes...) Her breath hitches when Timmy suddenly switches breasts, his teeth grazing her right nipple just enough to sting. "Oh... oh *god*," she whimpers, her vision blurring as pleasure coils tighter, hotter, *deeper*. His fingers tighten on her ass, lifting her slightly before letting her drop back down against his erection, the rough fabric dragging against her slick folds in a way that makes her spine arch.
"Missy... I... I can't..." Timmy's voice is wrecked, his lips glistening with her sweat as he pulls back just enough to meet her gaze. Her pupils are blown wide, her breath coming in ragged bursts, and when he thrusts his hips up one last time, she *shatters*.
Stars explode behind her eyelids as her orgasm crashes over her, her thighs clamping around his hips as clear fluid gushes against his jeans, soaking the fabric in hot, sticky waves. "T-Timmy...*fuck*..." she sobs, her body trembling violently as the aftershocks ripple through her. His hands never stop moving, kneading her ass with reverent pressure, keeping her pressed tight against him as she rides out the waves. (Kid's gonna ruin me...) The thought scatters when he whimpers her name, his hips bucking beneath her, his grip tightening possessively.
Missy collapses against him, her chest heaving, her skin slick with sweat, her lips brushing his ear as she gasps, "Oh wow... like... *totally* not how I planned this..." But her chuckle dissolves into a shuddering moan when Timmy nuzzles into the curve of her neck, his breath hot against her pulse. (Damn... kid's just getting started.)
Timmy's lips trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses down Missy's throat, pausing to suck a bruise into the tender skin just above her collarbone. "Oh *wow*," she gasped, her fingers tightening in his hair as he kneaded her ass with both hands, squeezing the plush flesh with a fervor that made her hips jerk. "Like, *someone's* eager..." Her teasing remark dissolved into a moan when Timmy captured her lips again, his tongue sliding against hers with a desperation that left her dizzy.
Missy smirked against his mouth, her nails scraping down his bare chest as she broke the kiss to trail her lips lower. "Let's see what else you've got, short stuff," she purred, her teeth grazing his nipple before her tongue flicked over the peaked bud. Timmy's breath hitched, his hands flying to her shoulders as she licked a slow path down his trembling abdomen, pausing to swirl her tongue in his navel just to hear him whimper.
Her fingers hooked into the waistband of his jeans, yanking them down in one swift motion along with his boxers. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, the tip glistening with precome. Missy's lips parted in genuine surprise. "Oh *damn*," she breathed, her thumb brushing the swollen head, smearing the sticky bead of fluid. "Like, *totally* bigger than I thought..." Her fingers wrapped around his shaft, giving him a slow, teasing stroke that made his hips buck. "Guess those big eyes aren't the only thing you've got, huh?"
Timmy's reply was a strangled gasp as Missy leaned down, her tongue flicking out to lap at the salty-sweet drop gathering at his tip. "M-Missy .." His voice cracked, his fingers tangling in her platinum hair as she took him into her mouth with a hum of approval. The wet heat of her lips enveloped him, her tongue swirling in practiced circles around the head before she sank deeper, her nose brushing the coarse curls at his base.
Missy's smirk widened around him when his thighs trembled, his choked moan echoing off the dungeon walls. (Kid's *tasty*.)
Timmy sees shining arcs of light behind his eyelids, his fingers twisting in Missy's teased platinum hair as she hums around his cock, the vibration traveling up his spine like electric current. "O-oh god..." His voice cracks, high and shattered, his thighs shaking violently as her tongue swirls just under the head in a way that makes his vision whiten at the edges. "Missy I... something is happening. "
She pulls back just enough to smirk up at him, her red-smeared lips stretched obscenely around his shaft. "Like, gonna *come* already, short stuff?" Her breath ghosts hot over his wet skin before she sinks down again, her throat fluttering around him in a way that wrenches a sob from his chest. The pressure builds impossibly tighter, coiled at the base of his spine, until her lashes lift, and their eyes lock.
Something raw and unguarded flickers in her blue gaze, stripping away the valley-girl bravado, and Timmy *breaks*. "M-MISSY...!" His back arches off the pallet as his orgasm punches through him, thick ropes spurting down her throat while her fingers dig into his hips, milking every last shuddering pulse.
Missy swallows with a satisfied groan, her tongue lapping at his oversensitive tip until he whimpers, his hands fluttering weakly against her scalp. "Oh *wow*," she purrs, wiping her gloss-smeared mouth with the back of her hand, "like, *totally* didn't expect you to taste that good." Her teeth nip his inner thigh, leaving a red crescent as she chuckles at his full-body twitch. "Guess we're *both* full of surprises, huh?"
Timmy's breath still comes in ragged bursts, his cock twitching against his stomach despite his recent release. (How is she *real*? How is any of this...) His thoughts scatter when Missy straddles him again, her bare thighs bracketing his hips, her damp heat pressing against his softening length.
She leans down, her platinum hair cascading around them like a curtain, her lips brushing his ear. "Like, don't think we're *done*, short stuff," she murmurs, her hips grinding in slow circles, coaxing him back to hardness with practiced ease. "Mr Big *still* wants his answers..."
His hands find her waist, fingers digging into the softness of her hips as she rises up, her muscles flexing beneath his palms. "M-Missy..." His protest dies in his throat when she sinks down onto him in one fluid motion, her tight walls fluttering around his renewed erection. The moan that tears from her lips is guttural, raw, her nails scraping down his chest as she rolls her hips in a slow, filthy grind. (Holy shit I'm inside of her...)
Timmy's arms wrap around her shoulders, his face pressing into the sweat-slick curve of her collarbone as she rides him with languid precision. "O-oh *fuck*," she gasps, her voice cracking as her inner muscles clench around him, "like, *totally* hit the jackpot with you..." Her laughter dissolves into a moan when his hips jerk upward, driving deeper, her breath hot against his temple. "Y-yeah... just like that..." Her hands fist in his hair, tugging just enough to sting, her rhythm growing erratic as pleasure coils tighter, hotter..... "T-Timmy, I'm gonna..."
Missy moves her hips faster and faster, her breath coming in ragged bursts as she presses her chest flush against Timmy's, her nipples dragging across his skin with every downward grind. "Like, *fuck*... you feel *so* good," she pants, her lips brushing his ear as her thighs tremble around him.
Timmy gasps, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips as she rides him harder, her slick walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses. "Missy, I... to good..." he chokes out, his voice breaking as she rolls her hips just right, her breath hot and uneven against his neck.
She licks a stripe up his throat before biting down gently, her teeth leaving marks that'll linger for days. "Oh wow... gonna *come* again, short stuff?" she taunts, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction—until her breath hitches, her body tensing as pleasure coils impossibly tighter. Timmy moans into the damp crook of her shoulder, his hips jerking upward to meet her frantic thrusts, his cock twitching inside her as she gasps, "Oh *fuck*... I'm... I'm..."
Her orgasm crashes over her with a strangled cry, her back arching as clear fluid gushes around him, soaking his thighs in sticky heat. Timmy's eyes roll back as her muscles clamp down on him like a vise, his own release surging up without warning, thick and pulsing as he fills her with shuddering bursts. Missy collapses against him, her chest heaving, her fingers trembling where they clutch at his shoulders.
For a long moment, the only sound is their mingled breaths and the distant drip of water against stone. Then Missy laughs, soft, breathless, her lips brushing his ear. "Like... *totally* didn't see that coming."
Timmy kisses Missy's right cheekbone, tasting salt and strawberry gloss as he murmurs, "Still... not gonna tell."
Her breath catches, not at the refusal, but at the way his chapped lips linger, how his nose nuzzles into her tangled platinum hair. (Little bastard's got *nerve*...) She smirks against his temple, pride swelling under her ribs like a second heartbeat. "Oh wow," she breathes, tilting his chin up with two fingers. "Like, *totally* turning me on with your whole... refusal thing." Her kiss is bruising, all teeth and tongue, her hips grinding down onto his spent cock just to feel him twitch inside her.
Missy breaks the kiss with a wet pop, her chest heaving. (He's more of a man than Link's ever been...) The thought lodges like a stone in her throat as she slides off him, her thighs sticky with their mingled release. The torchlight paints golden streaks across her sweat-slicked back as she saunters toward her leopard-print bag, exaggerating the sway of her hips. Timmy's gasp is audible when she bends over *really* bends over, her ass jutting toward him, the dimpled cheeks still flushed from his grip.
Her fingers close around cool stone in the bag's depths. (One last gift...) The double-sided dildo glints like polished obsidian as she lifts it, her other hand resting on her left hip. Timmy doesn't see, not the way the first five inches disappear into her dripping folds with a practiced twist, nor the shiver that races up her spine at the stretch. (So *cold*...)
Missy braces one hand against the damp wall, her breath fogging the stone as she pushes back onto the remaining length. "Like, enjoy the show, short stuff," she purrs over her shoulder, watching his Adam's apple bob. The dildo's opposite end bobs obscenely, glistening with her arousal, as she rolls her hips in slow, filthy circles. (Gonna make sure he *never* forgets this...) Her free hand drifts between her thighs, fingers brushing the stone shaft where it disappears inside her. "Mmm... *fuck*..." The moan tears loose when her thumb finds her clit, the rough pad catching just right. Timmy's choked whimper is sweeter than any confession.
Missy turns fully now, letting him see how the toy stretches her, how her inner muscles flutter around the intrusion with every shallow thrust. "Oh *wow*," she breathes, exaggerating the way her knees tremble as she steps closer, the dildo jutting from her like some bizarre appendage. Timmy's brown eyes widen further, his lips parting around a soundless gasp. (Kid looks like he's seeing *magic*.) She laughs, low and throaty, as she traces the toy's base with a fingertip. "Like, never seen a girl *accessorize* before?"
Her palm lands flat on his chest, pushing him onto his stomach with surprising ease. The straw pallet crunches under his weight as she straddles his thighs, her slickness smearing across his skin. "Relax, kiddo," she murmurs, though her fingers dig into his slim hips hard enough to bruise. One hand moves up his body, to than slides down the dip of his spine, pausing to knead the soft swell of his ass. (So *small*... but damn if he doesn't fit just right.) Her thumb brushes his entrance, dry at first, then slick with her own wetness when she circles tighter. Timmy jerks beneath her, a broken noise escaping his throat.
Missy leans down, her breasts pressing between his shoulder blades as her lips ghost over his ear. "Breathe," she commands, then *shoves* forward in one brutal motion. The toy sinks into him to the hilt, her palm coming down flat between his shoulder blades to pin him as he arches with a shattered cry. Her own moan mingles with his, the dual penetration sending sparks up her spine. (Holy *shit*...) She grinds down, the base of the dildo rubbing her clit with every shallow thrust, her teeth sinking into his shoulder to muffle her scream. "Like, *fuck*... you're *tight*..."
Timmy's fingers claw at the straw pallet, his vision whiting out as she pistons into him, the stone shaft dragging against that *spot* with merciless precision. "M-Missy—*ah*—I c-can't—" His voice breaks when she slams home harder, her hips meeting his ass with a wet smack that echoes off the walls. Her free hand fists his hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat as she licks a stripe up his sweat-salted skin.
"Like, *totally* can," she pants against his pulse, her rhythm faltering as pleasure coils tight in her gut. The dildo twists inside her with each thrust, the cold stone a stark contrast to the molten heat building between her legs. Timmy's whimpers crescendo into a sobbing moan as she fucks him harder, her nails leaving crescent moons in his hips. "Oh *god*—gonna—" Her thighs clamp around him, her orgasm ripping through her with a guttural cry as she collapses forward, her release gushing over his trembling back.
Timmy's body seizes beneath her, his own climax tearing through him with enough force to leave him gasping, his fingers tangling in the straw as he spills untouched onto the pallet. Missy's laughter is breathless against his spine, her lips pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. "Oh wow," she murmurs, her voice raw with satisfaction, "like, *totally* didn't know you had *that* in you." Her fingers trail through the mess on his asscheeks, painting sticky stripes down his thighs as she adds, "Bet you didn't either."
With a groan, she pulls the dildo free from both of them, the sudden emptiness making Timmy whimper. Missy holds it up, twirling it between her fingers with a smirk. "Like, souvenir?" she teases, watching his blush deepen before tucking it back into her bag with a shrug. (Kid's gonna remember me every time he sits down...) The distant clang of footsteps echoes down the corridor, followed by a gruff shout, "Mr Big wants the boy *now*!" and Missy rolls her eyes. (Boneheads couldn't wait ten more minutes?)
She dresses with practiced efficiency, tossing Timmy his striped shirt with a flick of her wrist. "Like, hurry up, short stuff," she says, but her fingers linger when she helps him into his jeans, smoothing the fabric over his trembling thighs. His hands are unsteady as he buttons his fly, his gaze flicking to hers, wide, vulnerable, *real* and something tightens in her chest. (Damn it...) She grabs his hand, pulling him toward the door before she can second-guess herself. "Come *on*," she mutters, but her grip is gentle, her thumb tracing circles against his knuckles.
The elevator doors groan open, swallowing them both in dim light. Timmy hesitates, then blurts, "Missy... thanks. For... for everything. Even if they made you do it." His voice cracks, but his eyes don't waver.
Missy's breath hitches (Kid's got *heart* too?) before she drags him onto his tiptoes, her lips crashing against his in a kiss that tastes like strawberry gloss and something saltier, deeper. (Last time,) she thinks, memorizing the way his lashes flutter against her cheeks, the hitch in his breath when she nips his lip. The elevator lurches upward, wrenching them apart, and Missy swallows hard. (Damn it all.)
(One hour later. Saur City.)
It has been a crazy adventure for Timmy, Jamie, Mick and Missy. They have just defeated Mr Big and saved Saur City from destruction. Now it is time for Timmy, Jamie and Mick to go back home through the dimensional portal that Mr and Mrs Shepherd created.
Jamie and Mick are standing near the portal, still in their Rocky outfits they used to infiltrate Mr Big's tower. Jamie adjusts the fur loincloth around her waist and sighs. "Man, I am *so* ready to get out of this itchy thing," she mutters, scratching at her shoulder where the coarse fabric rubs her skin raw.
Mick chuckles, adjusting his own makeshift caveman garb. "Yeah, but we looked *totally* badass, right?"
Timmy, however, is lingering near Missy, his sneakers scuffing against the cobblestone floor. His throat feels tight, like someone's wrapped their hands around it and squeezed. (How do I say goodbye when I don't *want* to?)
Missy's heels click softly as she shifts her weight, her fingers fiddling with the frayed hem of her leopard-print dress. The silence stretches between them, thick and awkward, until she finally breaks it with a forced laugh. "Oh wow, like... guess this is it, huh, short stuff?"
Timmy's stomach twists. (No. No it's *not*.) He swallows hard, his fingers twitching at his sides like he wants to reach for her but doesn't dare. "I... uh..." His voice cracks embarrassingly, and he clears his throat. "What if... what if I don't *want* it to be 'it'?" His cheeks burn, but he holds her gaze, brown eyes wide and desperate.
Missy's breath catches. (Damn kid...) Her fingers tighten on the strap of her leopard-print bag, the leather creaking under her grip. "Oh wow," she murmurs, forcing a smirk even as her pulse kicks against her ribs. "Like, what're you gonna do? Stuff me in your backpack?" Her laugh sounds brittle even to her own ears.
Jamie groans from near the portal, rolling her eyes. "Timmy, *come on*," she calls, shifting impatiently. "Mom and Dad are probably freaking out!"
Missy's heel scrapes against the cobblestones as she steps closer, close enough that Timmy has to tilt his head back to meet her eyes. Her perfume, something floral and *expensive* washes over him, dizzying. "Listen, kiddo," she says softly, her thumb brushing his cheekbone before she can stop herself. "Like... don't be stupid." But her voice wavers, and when Timmy grabs her wrist, her pulse jumps under his fingers.
"You could come *with* us," Timmy blurts, his grip tightening. "The portal's big enough... I *know* it is!" His heart hammers against his ribs like it's trying to escape. (Please say yes. Please please please...)
Missy stares at him, her lips parting around a breath she doesn't take. (Could I? *Should* I?) The thought lodges in her throat, sharp as a bone. Behind them, Mick clears his throat pointedly. "Uh, guys? Clock's ticking..."
Jamie rolls her eyes, grabs Mick's hand, and presses a quick kiss to his cheek. "Come *on*, lovebirds," she mutters, dragging him toward the shimmering portal. Mick barely has time to blink before she yanks him through, their silhouettes dissolving into the rippling light.
Timmy doesn't look away from Missy, his fingers tightening around hers. "Say yes," he whispers, voice cracking. "Just... say yes."
Missy exhales, long and slow, her thumb brushing the pulse fluttering in his wrist. (Damn kid...) "Oh wow," she murmurs, squeezing back. "*Totally* yes."
Hand in hand, they step into the portal's glow, the world twisting into streaks of color.
Jamie stumbles out first, blinking under the fluorescent lab lights. Mick tumbles after her, catching himself on a console. Timmy emerges a heartbeat later, gasping like he's been underwater, then freezes.
Missy steps through last, her heel clicking against linoleum, except it's not her heel, not really. It's ink. Her entire body is ink. She stares down at herself, at the smooth, flat planes of her animated skin, the exaggerated curve of her waist where her dress clings like paint. "Oh *wow*," she breathes, flexing her fingers. They ripple like liquid, her movements leaving faint afterimages in the air.
Jamie's jaw drops. "*What* the..."
Mick chokes on his own spit. "Dude. *Dude*."
Timmy's breath hitches. (She's... she's *cartoon*.) His fingers twitch toward her, hesitating an inch from her animated hip. "Missy...?"
Missy turns, her ink-black lashes fluttering. The torchlight from the dungeon is gone, replaced by the sterile hum of overhead fluorescents, but her eyes are still *her*, still blue and bright and alive beneath the surreal gloss of animation. She grins, slow, wicked, her full lips curling in a way that makes Timmy's stomach flip. "Like," she purrs, tapping a finger, smooth, seamless, against his gaping mouth, "*totally* hot, right?"
Mick clears his throat, shifting awkwardly in his caveman garb. "Uh, dude? Pretty sure she's *literally* ink now. Like, *Looney Tunes* ink." He gestures vaguely at Missy's exaggerated curves, her dress clinging like wet paint. "Which makes *zero* sense, because in *her* world..."
Jamie snorts, already halfway to the lab door, dragging Mick by his fur loincloth. "Save the multiverse theory for *later*, Einstein," she mutters, shooting Missy a knowing smirk over her shoulder. "Right now, *some* of us have better things to do than stare." She yanks Mick forward, his protests muffled as the door swings shut behind them.
Timmy barely hears them go. His fingers hover over Missy's wrist, trembling, caught between awe and hunger. Her skin is cool, slick, like tracing a wet brushstroke, but the pulse beneath is *real*, thrumming against his fingertips. "You're... you're still *you*," he breathes, and it's half-question, half-prayer.
Missy's smirk deepens. She grabs his shirt, hauling him onto his toes with effortless strength, her animated muscles flexing beneath glossy, exaggerated definition. "Oh wow," she murmurs, her breath warm despite the surreal chill of her new form, "like, *duh*." Then her mouth crashes into his, her lips impossibly soft, impossibly *alive*, tasting of strawberry gloss and something darker, sweeter. Timmy gasps into the kiss, his hands finding her waist, her *waist*, impossibly narrow, impossibly *perfect* as she presses closer, her animated curves molding against him like liquid heat. (Damn kid,) she thinks, nipping his lower lip just to hear him whimper, (*totally* mine now.)
Timmy makes a pleased noise into the kiss, his fingers pressing into the exaggerated swell of her animated breasts through the painted-on dress, the material stretching like rubber under his palms. "Oh *wow*," Missy gasps between kisses, her lips distorting cartoonishly as she grins, "like, someone's *really* into the upgrade." Her hands slide down his slim torso, ink-black nails dragging lightly over the hem of his striped shirt before dipping beneath, her fingers wrapping around his erection with practiced ease. Timmy jerks back with a gasp, but Missy's lips stretch absurdly to maintain contact, the kiss breaking with an audible *pop* as her mouth snaps back into place with a bounce.
Timmy's smirk is all mischief as he spins her, her animated body bending fluidly over the lab table, her ass jiggling slightly before settling into exaggerated, perfect curves. His breath catches at the sight of her smooth ink skin pussy, glistening like wet paint, but his gaze flickers higher to the tight, puckered asterisk of her asshole, twitching almost mockingly. (Payback time,) he thinks, dragging a finger down her spine just to feel her shiver.
Missy glances over her shoulder, her blue eyes gleaming with challenge. "Hehehe," she drawls, wiggling her hips, "like, *scared*, short stuff?"
"Shut up," Timmy growls, his voice cracking as he grips her waist, so narrow he could span it with both hands, and presses forward without preamble. Missy's animated body yields unnaturally, her asshole stretching around him with a wet, rubbery sound that makes his toes curl. "Holy *shit*," he chokes out, hips stuttering as her insides ripple around him, smooth and slick like ink.
Missy's laughter is breathless, her fingers scrabbling at the table's edge as her body adjusts, her exaggerated moans bouncing off the lab walls. "Oh *god*," she gasps, her back arching cartoonishly, "like, *fuck* you're *way* better at this than I thought!"
Timmy's grip tightens, his thrusts growing more confident as her body clenches around him, each movement sending liquid heat pooling in his gut. (Damn her,) he thinks, biting back a moan, (she feels *even better* like this.)
Missy's ink-black lashes flutter, her lips parting around a shuddering gasp as his rhythm falters, close, so *close* and the lab dissolves into a blur of motion and sound.
"Oh *wow*," she breathes, her voice skipping like a scratched record, "like—*Timmy*—fuck—!" Her fingers claw at the table, nails elongating cartoonishly before snapping back, the wood groaning beneath her weight as her animated hips jerk back to meet his frantic thrusts.
Timmy's eyes roll back as Missy's animated asshole clenches around him like a slick, living glove, her insides ripple with exaggerated contractions, each one pulling a ragged gasp from his throat. "Holy...*fuck* Missy...!" His fingers dig into her inked waist, leaving temporary dents in her rubbery skin as he grinds deeper, her body yielding impossibly around him with a wet, squelching sound that echoes off the lab's sterile walls. Missy's head lolls forward, her platinum hair bouncing with cartoonish elasticity as she moans, high and reedy, her breasts jiggling with audible *boing* sounds that make Timmy's hips stutter.
"Like...*oh wow*...*right there*...!" Missy's voice glitches mid-sentence, her lips stretching into a grotesque grin before snapping back into place as her pussy spasms around nothing, her clear ink cum splattering the floor in thick, glistening ropes between her stiletto heels. The table rattles violently, beakers clinking like wind chimes as Timmy loses rhythm, his thrusts turning erratic, his toes barely brushing the ground as he strains to bury himself to the hilt. "Gonna... gonna...!" he chokes out, and Missy's laugh is a breathless, staticky thing as she arches back to meet him, her asshole sucking him in deeper with a lewd, liquid *schlurp*.
Timmy's orgasm hits like a power surge, his back bowing as his cum floods her insides in hot, pulsing waves, her animated body absorbing it with a series of obscene, squishy noises. Missy's eyelids flutter, her blue irises rolling up cartoonishly as she milks him dry, her asshole twitching around him in lazy aftershocks. "*Totally*... wrecked me..." she slurs, her voice distorting like a warped record as she collapses forward, her inked limbs splaying bonelessly across the table.
Timmy pulls out with a wet *pop*, his spent cock glistening with her slick, ink-black insides as he staggers back, knees buckling. Missy's giggle is muffled against the table, her fingers twitching toward him lazily. "Like... *come here*, short stuff," she murmurs, her voice syrupy with satisfaction, and Timmy doesn't hesitate, he stumbles into her outstretched arms, his face burying between her bouncing breasts as the lab hums around them, fluorescent lights flickering like a tired cartoon frame.