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#Post#: 68703--------------------------------------------------
Conker & Timmy, H.O.T. 2.0
By: Grod Date: December 22, 2024, 2:43 am
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Timmy, a cherub-faced ten-year-old with unruly hair the color of
strawberry jam, sat cross-legged on the living room floor, his
eyes glued to the flickering television screen. The room smelled
faintly of dust and pizza crusts, a testament to his recent
weekend gaming marathon. He clutched his worn-out game
controller, thumbs dancing over the buttons with a precision
that belied his tender age.
"Alright, Conker," Timmy murmured, his voice thick with
determination, "you're going down." His digital avatar on the
screen, a pint-sized squirrel with a penchant for profanity, was
locked in a fierce battle with a giant, angry bee. The TV
speakers buzzed with the sound of virtual mayhem.
Suddenly, the room's light flickered, and a strange, electric
crackle filled the air. Timmy's heart skipped a beat as a
swirling vortex of colors burst forth from the screen,
coalescing into a solid, three-dimensional shape. Before his
disbelieving eyes, Conker the Squirrel, in all his pixelated
glory, stumbled out of the television and onto the shaggy
carpet. The squirrel looked around, dazed, his tiny cartoon eyes
blinking rapidly as he took in his new surroundings.
"What the bloody hell?" Conker exclaimed, his British accent
cutting through the room like a knife through warm butter.
Timmy's jaw dropped, the game controller slipping from his
grasp. "Conker?" he whispered, eyes as wide as saucers. The
squirrel looked down at Timmy, his expression shifting from
confusion to recognition.
"You're that little squeaker who's been controlling me!" Conker
roared, his tiny voice surprisingly powerful. "You've been a
right nuisance, you have!"
Timmy scrambled to his feet, his knees wobbling with excitement
and fear. "You-you can talk!"
Conker rubbed his head, his fur ruffling. "Of course I can, you
daft twit. Did you expect me to just sit there and take it?" He
gestured towards his behind, which was already red from the many
battles Timmy had made him endure. "Now, it's your turn to taste
the wrath of Conker!"
Without missing a beat, Timmy yelped and dashed behind the
couch, his laughter bubbling up in a mix of terror and delight.
Conker's eyes narrowed, and he gave chase, his little legs
moving with surprising speed across the floorboards. Timmy felt
the squirrel's hot breath on his ankle, and he squealed,
tripping over a forgotten action figure and landing on his
bottom with a thud.
The squirrel loomed over him, his tiny fists clenched. "You
think it's funny, do you? Well, let's see how you like it!"
Timmy's heart raced as he watched Conker wind up for what he
could only assume was a pint-sized punch. But before the
squirrel could make contact, an idea popped into Timmy's head.
He stuck out his own hand, palm up, and grinned. "Wait, instead
of punching me, how about a different punishment?"
Conker paused, his expression skeptical. "What do you propose,
human?"
"How about you put me over your knee and give my hiney a good
spanking instead?" Timmy proposed, his heart racing with
excitement.
Conker's eyebrows shot up, his cheeky grin growing wider. "Oh,
you want to play that game, do you?" He chuckled, his tail
swishing behind him. "Alright, you little rascal, let's see if
you can handle the heat."
Timmy nodded eagerly, his cheeks flushing. He had always
fantasized about being a part of the games he played, about
feeling the sting of adventure in a way that was more tangible
than just pressing buttons. Now, it seemed his dream was coming
true, albeit in a form he hadn't quite anticipated. He lay down
over Conker's knee, his heart thumping in his chest as he felt
the firmness of the squirrel's legs beneath him.
Conker's hand hovered over Timmy's upturned bottom, his grin
fading into a more serious expression. He brought his palm down
with a resounding smack, and Timmy yelped, his eyes watering.
The sting was sharp and surprisingly real, not at all like the
muffled thwacks he'd heard in cartoons. "Is that good enough for
you?" Conker asked, his voice a mix of amusement and challenge.
"More!" Timmy begged, his voice muffled by the cushion of his
folded arms. He couldn't believe he was actually living out a
scene from his favorite game, feeling the very spanks he'd
dished out to Conker so many times. Conker obliged, his hand
rising and falling in a steady rhythm that painted Timmy's
bottom a deepening shade of red. The sensation grew from a
simple sting to a warm throb that spread across his cheeks.
With each smack, Timmy's yelps grew louder, his body wriggling
in an attempt to dodge the squirrel's unrelenting hand. But
Conker was quicker, his grip on Timmy's waist as firm as a vise.
"You're a tough one, aren't you?" Conker chuckled, admiring his
handiwork. The sound of each impact echoed through the room, a
strange symphony of cartoon violence and real-life giggles.
Timmy's face was buried in the couch cushions, his muffled voice
barely audible. "I...I can take it," he panted, his voice
quivering with the effort of holding back tears. "Keep going,
Conker! Spank my little booty!"
The squirrel chuckled, his hand still raining down smacks on
Timmy's now crimson backside. "You've got spirit, I'll give you
that," he said, increasing the intensity of his spanking.
Timmy's squirms grew more frantic, his legs kicking up little
clouds of dust from the carpet. The sound of each smack echoed
through the room, a rhythmic punctuation to their bizarre
interaction.
"Man Timmy baby, you really deserve this!" Conker teased.
Timmy's bottom was on fire, but he couldn't deny the thrill of
it. He felt alive, his senses heightened as the sting of each
smack sent a jolt of adrenaline through his body. He squirmed
and kicked, his voice muffled by the couch. "I'm sorry, Conker!"
he squealed, his eyes squeezed shut.
"Louder baby!" Conker demanded.
"I'm sorry, Conker!" Timmy's voice grew louder, his body arching
as the squirrel's hand connected with his sensitive skin. The
sting grew into a fiery crescendo, each smack resonating with a
thwack that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room.
The fabric of reality itself seemed to stretch and distort
around them, the lines between game and real life blurring into
an exhilarating dance of pain and pleasure.
Conker's arm grew tired, but he wasn't about to let up now. He
had a point to prove, and by God, he'd prove it. "You've got a
bit more coming to ya," he grunted, his arm rising and falling
with a precision that belied his inebriated state from the
game's many bar fights. The spanking continued, each smack a
little harder, a little faster, until Timmy's cries of "ow" and
"please" turned into a steady stream of unintelligible babble.
Timmy's eyes watered, his voice hoarse from his pleas, but he
didn't dare ask for mercy. This was the price of admission into
Conker's world, and he was going to pay it in full. The
squirrel's palm felt like a branding iron, searing his bottom
with a fiery brand that was both agonizing and oddly satisfying.
He bit down on the couch cushion, muffling his squeals as best
he could.
Conker paused, panting slightly, his own cheeks flushed from the
exertion. He studied Timmy's crimson bottom with a critical eye.
"Alright, I suppose that's enough for now," he said, his voice
gruff. "Let's see how you do the dishing out, shall we?"
Timmy's eyes snapped open, and he looked up at Conker with a mix
of excitement and trepidation. He hadn't considered that he
might get to give the spankings as well. He nodded eagerly, his
bottom still throbbing from the squirrel's punishment. Conker
climbed off Timmy's backside, his tiny legs wobbling slightly
from the effort. He turned and bent over the arm of the couch,
presenting his own plump, pixelated rump to Timmy. "Go on,
then," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Give it your best
shot."
"Yes Daddy!" Timmy said eagerly.
Timmy scooted around the couch, his heart racing with
excitement. He had never spanked anyone before, let alone a
cartoon character that had just come to life. He took a moment
to admire Conker's squirrelly behind, plump and ripe for the
picking, the perfect shade of orange. With a deep breath, he
raised his hand and brought it down with a resounding smack.
Conker yelped, his tail shooting up like a flag. "Not too
shabby, kid," he grunted, his eyes watering. "But you're gonna
have to do better than that."
Timmy's hand stung from the effort, but he wasn't about to back
down. He raised his arm again, aiming for the squirrel's round,
fuzzy cheeks. His palm connected with a sound that seemed to
shake the very air around them, and Conker's squeak was music to
his ears. The squirrel bucked, his legs kicking wildly.
"Again, Daddy!" Timmy exclaimed, his voice filled with a strange
mix of joy and authority.
Conker grunted but nodded, his bottom wiggling slightly in
anticipation. Timmy took aim, his hand descending with a fierce
smack that left a white imprint on the squirrel's orange fur.
Conker yipped, his legs kicking even higher this time. Timmy
felt a strange sense of power, his hand connecting with the
squirrel's rump with a rhythm that seemed to echo through the
very fabric of the room.
The air grew thick with the sound of spanking and the scent of
their shared exertion. Each smack grew harder, each squeal from
Conker louder, until the squirrel's bottom was a blur of orange
and Timmy's hand was a crimson blur. "Is that all you've got,
you little whippersnapper?" Conker taunted, his voice thick with
a mix of pain and amusement.
Timmy grinned, his eyes alight with a mischievous spark. He had
always wondered what it would be like to be the one in control,
and now he had the chance. He raised his hand high, his palm
stinging from the effort, and brought it down with all his
might. The resulting smack was like a gunshot, echoing through
the room and making Conker's eyes water.
"Your booty is mine now daddy!" Timmy proclaimed, his cheeks red
with excitement as he took in the sight of Conker's squirming
form. He had never felt so alive, so powerful.
Conker's eyes widened, his tail thrashing from side to side as
Timmy's hand connected with his plump, orange bottom again and
again. The squirrel's squeaks grew louder, his body jolting with
each smack. "You're a natural at this," Conker grunted through
gritted teeth, his cheeks now a matching shade of red to
Timmy's.
"Red cherry like cheeks," Timmy said in a daze, "All bois and
their daddies should have red, cherry like cheeks. Right daddy?"
Conker grunted, his face red with both embarrassment and pain.
"I suppose so, Timmy," he managed to say, his voice strained.
Timmy's enthusiasm was contagious, and despite the stinging in
his bum, the squirrel couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride
in his young human companion.
As the spanking continued, the room grew warm with the energy of
their shared experience. Timmy's hand grew more confident with
each smack, his aim true and his strength surprising. He watched
as the squirrel's cheeks grew rounder and redder, like two juicy
apples begging to be picked. Conker's squeaks turned to grunts,
his body tensing and relaxing in time with the rhythm of the
punishment.
Timmy's heart raced, his breath coming in quick pants. He could
feel the heat of his own bottom, the lingering sting from
Conker's earlier ministrations acting as a delicious
counterpoint to the power he now held in his hand. He smacked
harder, relishing the squirrel's reactions, the way his body
jerked and squirmed with each impact.
"That's it, Timmy," Conker gasped, his eyes squeezed shut. "Show
me what you're made of!"
Timmy's hand was a blur of motion, his smacks falling in a
steady rhythm that had Conker's bottom bouncing with each
impact. He could feel the power surging through his arm, his
muscles singing with the effort. With each smack, he felt a
strange sense of satisfaction, a connection to the squirrel that
went beyond the confines of the screen.
Conker's squeaks grew more frantic, his body wriggling as he
tried to evade the stinging slaps. But Timmy was relentless, his
aim unerring. He watched with a mix of fascination and glee as
the squirrel's fur stood on end, the redness of his cheeks
deepening with every strike. The smell of their shared exertion
grew stronger, a heady scent that seemed to fuel Timmy's desire
to continue.
"You're really taking it well, Daddy," Timmy panted, his own
cheeks flushed with excitement.
Conker managed a pained chuckle. "I've had worse from your
bloody game, you know."
Timmy's grin grew wider, his eyes alight with a newfound
mischief. He leaned in closer, his voice a conspiratorial
whisper. "But Daddy, this isn't just any game, is it?"
Conker's eyes snapped open, and he looked over his shoulder at
Timmy. "What do you mean, you little...?"
Before he could finish his sentence, Timmy's hand came down with
a smack that made Conker's eyes water. "I mean, we're in this
together now," Timmy said, his voice low and serious. "And I'm
going to make sure you never forget it."
Conker grunted, his body tensing as the spanking grew more
intense. He had never felt so alive, so connected to the game
world he had come from. He had been a mere avatar before, a
collection of pixels and code, but now he was flesh and fur,
feeling the sting of Timmy's hand in a way he had never
anticipated. He found himself craving the pain, the power
exchange between them a strange and exhilarating dance that
seemed to transcend the boundaries of the screen.
Timmy's smacks grew more confident, his hand moving in a blur as
he spanked the squirrel's bottom with a fervor that surprised
even him. He could feel the heat radiating from Conker's skin,
the squirrel's cheeks now a deep, uniform red that seemed to
pulse with every smack. The room was alive with the sound of
their playful struggle, the thwacks of hand meeting butt echoing
off the walls.
Conker's squeaks turned to grunts, his body jolting with the
force of each impact. His tail thrashed wildly, sending a shower
of dust motes flying into the air. "You're getting good at this,
Timmy," he panted, his voice a mix of pain and admiration. "I
never knew you had it in you."
Timmy's arm grew tired, his palm stinging from the effort, but
he didn't stop. He had found a new kind of power in this bizarre
situation, one that made him feel alive in a way that nothing
else ever had. He smacked Conker's bottom once more, the
squirrel's cheeks now a uniform shade of red that matched
Timmy's own burning face. "I think we're even now, Daddy," he
said, his voice shaking with excitement.
"Lets check the mirror boi." Conker said.
Timmy's eyes lit up with excitement as he scurried to the mirror
hanging crookedly on the wall, the squirrel's bottom still a
deep shade of red. He could feel the heat radiating from
Conker's cheeks as the squirrel followed him, his movements
stiff from the spanking he'd received. They examined each
other's bottoms in the mirror. Their rumps bright red and
swollen with hand prints embedded in their cheeks.
"Looks like we're both a couple of naughty brats, don't you
think?" Timmy asked, his voice a mix of innocence and challenge.
Conker nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Indeed we
are," he agreed. "But now that we've settled our little score,
what do you say we go on an adventure together?"
"Only if you promise to spank my buns everyday daddy." Timmy
said.
Conker chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, I
promise you that, Timmy boy. Every single day, if that's what
you want."
The two looked at each other in the mirror, the squirrel's
reflection slightly distorted by the old glass. The room was a
mess of discarded toys and game cartridges, but in that moment,
it was their kingdom, their playground of power and pain. Timmy
felt his heart swell with a strange mix of affection and
excitement, his hand itching to redden Conker's bottom even
more.
"But where will we go?" Timmy asked, his voice filled with
wonder. "What kind of adventure are we going to have?"
"Ah, that's the beauty of it," Conker said with a wink. "We'll
go anywhere you want. The whole world is our playground now. Or,
should I say, the whole game world?"
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