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Judy's Worst Nightmare	By : TimedWatcher Category: +1 through F > Doug Views: 410 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Doug, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter 1
- 1
"... and just as the postman arrives, with the letter telling us of my inheritance, we die of the cold in each others' arms..."
Before Judy could finish her monologue, Roger interrupted her as she was rising from a practiced fall. "Alright Judy, cut the act. I've seen you be normal before. What is this?"
Though Roger couldn't see it behind her dark shades, her eyes flashed big and angry for a moment as he just ruined her big scene. So she did like all great actors do:
She improvised. "I'm surprised you're observant enough to notice, Roger." She swayed with one hand on her hip. She then lowered down into his vision without sitting, eye to eye with him. "Look, I just didn't want to make one of Dougie's friends feel bad."
"Hey, I'm no friend of your brothers." He hoped that would give him some cache with her.
Judy joined him at his booth, sitting across from him, though on the very edge, hand on the corner, in case she needed to make a quick and clean escape. "Thou art a boil, a plague sore, an embossed carbuncle in my corrupted blood." She held her hand over her chest, sounding indignant, while still trying to be vague about it.
"What?" Roger practically grunted.
Wait... did she just insult him?
"You're not up to my standing." Her chin fell on interlocked fingers, her elbows now planted.
"Huh?" Standing where? They were both sitting.
"Tch. You're not in my social class." Her mouth clicked as it rolled off her tongue in disgust. "Can I make it any clearer?" She sneered. "Or would you like me to get really nasty?" Judy had tried her best to be frank while still sounding all 'hoity toity' as one of his kind might put it, but she should've known anything she said was so above his station -- but now Judy was looking to cut fingers.
Roger brought his hands down onto the table top, having a bit better understanding of what that meant. "Well... what's that supposed to mean!?" He stewed with what she just said for a moment. "What? Just because I don't like Shakespeare?" He tried his best to read that stuff, but he just didn't get it. Who was gonna judge him because he couldn't read some loopy old knight guy's books?
Her intonations slowed, punctuating every consonant and vowel. "You're little green trash." Roger could see every little lip movement as time itself slowed when she uttered those words, the way her nose juddered the rims of her shades, hinting at the face of the hip girl he imagined behind them.
'Keep your cool, Roger. Don't let her get to you. You're the man.'
The Honker Burger swirled, as the faces beyond Judy's shoulder magnified. All of them interested in what was going on at his table. He wanted to jump up and shoo them all away, but that would probably bring even more attention their way.
"Go home, trailer park boy." She flittered her fingers like she was throwing confetti.
"I don't live in a trailer park!" He had the sweats; one of his nervous tells was his posture straightening up and his knees quaking like rattlers. In his attempt to defend himself, his loudness got the better of him -- more kids stared their way. His heart was pounding as the floor beneath him felt like it was gonna give way.
"Now good day to you Roger." Judy waved her hand with a fruity flair. "You are not worth another word, else I’d call you knave."
If this were anybody else, he'd have made'em put a sock in it; instead, fists formed but did little else.
He had to get out of there...
Judy leapt up, landing a raised and bent knee on the table. "Please, I call to those around me! For this poor wretch doesn't know his place! Haah! A sad, tragic, state of affairs -- to those that indulge in the meat of the Honker!" Judy feigned wilting, hand across her brow. "Hark! I implore you all to help me remind this dreg of his lot in life!"
HE HAD TO GET OUT OF THERE!
Her poetry rap made things worse. He could feel all eyes on him. All he could see on his way out were the purple and violet checkerboard tiles, refusing to acknowledge any of it, while Judy stirred up a crowd.
The glass door swung closed, their laughing tamped down to only sharp bristles in his mind.
He slipped the beret off, now clutched at his side, the cost of it eating away at him; another humiliation to add to the pile.
Doug was there, for some reason.
"Roger-"
"Don't talk to me, Funnie!" He spat acid.
Besides Judy herself, he was the last person he wanted to see.
Scene change, but the perspective stayed the same, as Roger was still staring at his alligator shoes... fine, they were suede, but nobody asked, okay?
Roger had crushed the only patch of grass that sat outside his home as he went back and forth on it.
He had been kicked out of the trailer by his mom he had been pacing so much.
Nobody, not even Skunky Beaumont on his best day, made him feel as lousy as he was feeling right now.
Judy...
Judy really did it this time...
He was finished.
Donezo.
Nobody in this town would respect him again.
Not that anybody did. Who respected green trash, right?
Roger tried to relax himself, breathing through his big stupid nose...
He had these brushes with big thoughts... these big ideas... he didn't know where he got them...
'Oh me and Judy have the same initials as Romeo and Juliet! That MUST mean something...'
It didn't mean ANYTHING you freaking idiot.
Man, why was he so STUPID!?
...
Roger stopped himself from getting emotional again. "I just need to take a walk." He repeated the line again, as if swearing it.
Hands in his pockets, his only companion was that crisp landing of his heel trailing behind him on the winding pathway that pointlessly snaked. His shadow stretched long ahead of him, bigger and meaner than he was -- but Roger was always one step behind. His outline made him think about himself. What did he even do to her that warranted that? Was he uglier than he thought? Maybe when his puberty really got going, he'd hit the lottery and become a real good lookin' guy.
... yeah right.
Roger threw his coat open and stared himself down.
Who even wore leather jackets anymore? That was like something those black and white 1920's people did.
He thought about ripping it off and tossing it into the street for how much good it did him, but his vision extended out over a flat field, and no matter how hard he squinted into it, there were no lights in the distance.
It made him think deeply, but nothing he could put into concrete words. Despite his crash course in Shakespeare, he still didn't know about how this love stuff was supposed to work or why his social class mattered.
Guess it mattered because people like him lived and died here...
But people like Judy...
Why couldn't he have a life with Judy? Why was being rich the only way he could be with someone like her?
He didn't ask to be poor.
He didn't ask to be stupid.
He wanted a stable home with someone, and Judy might've been the only way to attain that.
Yet she judged him like he was worth less than nothing.
Roger thought of escape... there had to be a way out, even if Bluffington was a go nowhere town.
His face fell into his hands, and he began stretching the skin back and forth in frustration -- his options were limited and he had fewer ways of enacting them, wondering what jobs a dummy like him could get.
Indian and Irish, he wished he was either fully native or fully Irish. He felt like uh... like uuuuh... like some kinduh....
Oh man, he was so dumb!
Roger didn't even realise he flung his fist at his skull before he did it. "Ow..." Roger grumbled to himself.
The midnight walk did him no favors, as he kept replaying that moment at the diner; the way her words flowed beautifully from her soft lips, even if he didn't understand most of 'em, so the images of her were on mute, which he preferred to the imagined bile, but reliving it made his long walk feel shorter, as it took him to a familiar feeling park, but not the trailer kind.
Roger stood awkward amongst the playground equipment, fingers wriggling before becoming balled fists again.
Nothing looked like it was for him, but worst of all, he didn't have that same spark as when he was a kid to even want to touch this stuff, so he picked the obvious ones, as like him, they stood apart from the slides, wooden bridges and monkey bars.
He sat at the merry go round, his boots sinking into the sand as his hands went from his jean covered thighs to his knees, the material stretched but still tough. It seemed a lot easier to get it going back when, not even shifting a little underneath his weight. Roger looked over his shoulder and through the arched yellow bars, expecting to be caught hanging out in a place meant for kiddies, which would've been another perfect addition to his already messed up night.
He reached out, grasping for it; his fingers glancing off chilly metal, his nails unintentionally knocking against it, that metal pinging, triggering a memory of himself, so much smaller. He would spin himself crazy on this thing when he was younger, having so much fun even as the other kids were heading home. He remembered hurting himself a lot on this, yet he held no grudges.
WHY AM I SO STUPID WHY CAN'T I JUST DIE WHY AM I SO STUPID WHY CAN'T I JUST DIE WHY AM I SO STUPID WHY CAN'T I JUST DIE WHY AM I SO STUPID WHY CAN'T I JUST DIE
Roger shot back, gawping.
Where did that come from?
A cold sweat had developed, making him suddenly feel slimy and overdressed.
He was usually better at keeping thoughts like that outta his head.
Roger flapped the popped collars of his jacket while simultaneously standing back up, trying to get some air flow going.
He still needed somewhere to sit and think though.
The two chains above squeaked and strained as he sat down on the swing, reminding him that he was out of place here too, his long legs now able to reach the ground easily, unlike the last time.
He tried to sit and sway, but it wasn't working, so he just crossed his feet and held himself steady.
He imagined Judy in the opposite swing, her feet not quite reaching despite being older than him. She was laughing at some observation of his - but not because anything he said was particularly funny -- but because she loved being near him.
It alleviated the pain, a creeping smile for a moment, only for him to want to start crying again.
Irish...
Injun...
Maybe he should've been neither... shouldn't have been born in the first place...
He remembered when Doug drew him as something called 'Klotzilla'. He only noticed because he was trying to cheat off Funnie. Roger's initial thought was 'Who wastes time drawing dumb stuff like that? Only Funnie!'
But Roger really began thinking about it in the calm of the empty playground.
That was an insult... right?
How did Funniebone draw Skeetface...
He drew him like... like he was cool...
It really began to sink in for Roger.
He hung his head.
"I'm not a monster..." After a sniff, he pinched his thumb and finger at the base of his wet nose.
That darn jungle madness cologne was stinging his eyes...
"WAH-HEY!" Something snapped somewhere and he hit the gravel hard with the crunch of them breaking his fall. He couldn't focus on himself as Roger looked above to the two chains that then coiled to the ground.
Roger refused to look on the bright side -- he WISHED they landed on him.
At least then, he could've become amnesia-brained and forgotten what happened tonight...
=========
Nothing softened the blows of steel toed boots landing on the hard ground floor surface, with particles of dust shooting up into the sunrays that bled through holes and cracked windows. Despite not wanting to look like one of them, he still followed procedure, slipping on the yellow hardhat. "White finally put me on his to do list. Give it a month or two, because I'm sure Robert has more important things to attend to until then..." Greasing Bob's wheel reminded him why he hated small towns like Bluffington; always voting in fast talking slicksters because the people too sensible to run this place bore even themselves to death.
The men stood apart, one in business attire and the other in standard construction gear, one slim, the other bulky. "We can have this whole thing torn down in less than a day once you get his signature on the dotted line, Mr. Hankle."
"A minimall... here..." He paused for effect. "Finally, something this cesspit of a town can be proud of."
Originally, this whole area was going to be refreshed and introduce new residential housing -- but he won that bid instead.
He snapped his fingers and popped his mouth at the same time, a raised index finger in the air. "And that means more union construction jobs for you and your boys." It was a father and son company afterall -- even if most of the labor came from down south as opposed to the people of Bluffington. "Doesn't that sound good?"
"Yes, Mr. Hankle."
=========
Hands out with a carefree sway, almost gliding, Judy's voice swam between humming and soft singing. "Mmhmmhm, lada-dada..."
She had a date with somebody actually cul-chured!

Her and Kyle were borderline canoodling during that rehearsal, and Judy figured why not go another step further the night after the play?
Of course, that is if her play isn't a total disaster and she isn't hiding/retching up a storm in the washroom -- but that was part of the fun! The fear of failure; the curtains drawing closed for the last time, my soul and body still tempered and soiled with fruit and vegetable residue, yet I still cry out 'adieu, adieu' to an audience that scorned me!
Or... even a hundred years from now, my name is still in lights, as I long ago ascended to the great beyond -- yet despite that mortal folly, I am considered one of the greatest artists in the world! 'Oh if only Judy Funnie were still alive to see this -- only she'd be capable of castigating the current regime with her cutting satiric wit!' My future fans will claim.
She was on the same path as usual.
Roger hesitated. Was this the right moment?
'Was this the right thing to do?' Was a question that had gotten old and he no longer asked.
He chickened out yesterday when Judy was with a girl friend of hers.
She was light on her feet and distracted in a daydream...
Alright.
Roger strolled out from behind some foliage with a roll of quarters in hand.
His uncle taught him this one.
He rushed her, reaching out to her and clobbering the back of her head with a hammer strike like blow.
Of course, Roger forgot what he was taught: It was supposed to reinforce the knuckles. She might have even been properly knocked out if he had done it the right way.
Instead, Judy stumbled, misstepping, her beret flying off her head.
Roger sidestepped into the shadows and shrubbery, trying not to be seen by her as she spun about on her heel.
She crumpled to the ground like a delicate flower, but her shades smacked hard, bracing her face, cracking half the lense as head met pavement
For a split second, she thought of herself like Lennon or Warhol; an artist struck down in their prime.
Then the cold realization hit her: She was gonna die.
There was no heroism in this.
Judy didn't want to die -- but the pain was too real and too debilitating to struggle back or fight against.
"Ooooooh... aaaah..." It was the only thing she could do, croaking and cooing -- a low groan that even bothered Roger with how offputting it was.
The idea of being caught purely on the sounds she was making had him kneeling down beside her, just as she managed to roll onto her shoulder, facing her assailant, now laying on an outstretched elbow, her fist half balled.
Her glassy eyes met his, not recognizing his shape, a green and orange blotch.
He bashed her chin, which made her go silent and limp.
Roger thought she was dead for a moment, his reaction oddly neutral, but her chest subtly rose and fell inside her violet sweater dress.
He picked up the pieces of her broken frame and lenses, then he flipped her hat over before sticking them into the lining, then pocketed them both. Then his hands fell on her. "Come on Judy-" His voice strained into a grunt as he hucked and hiked her over his shoulder, her noodle arms draping over his back. That sensation of her touch, even as weightless as they swung, reaffirmed to him that this was the right thing to do, and everytime they glanced against him all herky jerky like, the point in his pants began growing, acting as his guide.

It was a new sensation, a mix of rushing blood to his crotch and the adrenaline over being caught only enhanced it, which fit Roger like an old glove he had never worn before.
Judy was dead weight, but that ladder he carried to her window was heavier, and he managed to haul that thing. Roger finally felt positive about himself for once: He was strong. Real strong. It also felt like the smartest thing he had ever done as he hoofed it, cutting through back alleys like a red blood cell going through the circulatory system, not even second guessing himself on how to get where he needed to be after having mapped it out again and again.
He had to, as every second exposed could mean being caught. He leered nervously to homes that still had lights on, pointing out past their backyards over wooden fences with glowing yellow rectangles, both skinny and wide, which felt like prison spotlights to him, even as they looked dormant, with not even a shadow of a person creeping by.
Roger and the limp girl burst out from a dirtroad, rocks kicking out from underneath and crunching against his shoes. A pebble deflected off his covered ankle bone, and like some sick cosmic joke, the thing ended up on the inside, giving him an almost awkward gait as his foot attempted to avoid the bump on his insole as he transitioned to pavement. Roger waved his face to and fro, an itch on his developing nose that he just couldn't scratch as he darted across the street, coming to a stop at an incline that he would've normally avoided like the plague, because there was nothing down here but bloodsuckin' bugs and the odd bit of garbage. Using the momentum of the sheer but small hillside, he skid down into patchy yellowed crabgrass, his waist disappearing into poking stalks that broke and bent against him.
Seeing how much further he had, he knew he needed a break. The lot of broken down homes felt so close, yet so far. His feet tapped around a more open space, finding the least pokey place he could, before he took a knee and set her down -- carefully. Despite what he had done, he didn't want to hurt her any further.
A bead of sweat fell off his big nose; knowing more were to follow, he dipped his face down into his hand to squeegee off his forehead. "eee-YUCH..." His leather jacket like was like a second skin, having glued to him and turning him into a sweathog.
'Just a little further, you can do this, Roger.' He repeated in his head, as he dumped the stone out from his boot, giving it a few more shakes that rattled the tied laces as he made absolutely sure it was gone, then slipped it back on after checking for ticks.
He turned his head to her. Besides the slow motion quiver of her lips like she were in a nightmare, Judy seemed so peaceful strewn out like that, framed beside a crushed neon colored slurpee cup and filthy looking paper napkins. He waterfalled his fingers over the side of her face. 'Only a football fields left, my sweet.'
He strapped her back on and continued his trudge, not having the same energy as before. "Hup, hup, hup..." It felt like he should've been there by now, but Roger wasn't great at measuring time or distance, and Judy's hot breathed murmurings were starting to become more consistent, vibrating through his back when her face landed flat before ricocheting off him again like a wet sack, which worried Roger, the walk still taking forever.
The wild weeds tapered off, though the regular grass was still overgrown as the first abandoned home passed him by, making him wish he had chosen this one, and then the one after, and that one too.
Passing by a lone tree, he turned a corner, taking a slight angle to make sure it was the right one.
And there it was
152
Roger's face went from beleaguered to one of faint relief, knowing his job was about to be done in a couple seconds.
It was an old two story. He knew the place was old from the brick chimney and lack of a garage. A dilapidated house, they were all like that here, some in total freefall collapse while others were still clinging for dear life, which was the Patterson place to a T, though his only knowledge of them was from a ding dong ditch escapade during Halloween, but that was way back when he hadn't even failed the sixth grade yet.
Mayor White had been claiming he'd tear down this whole block for months now. Now, it was serving a much more important purpose. Before Judy and her family had even arrived here in Bluffington, him and his boys would come and throw rocks at the empty houses in this neighbourhood just for the heck of it. The guys and him had nicknamed it "Deadend Drive" because practically nobody came out here.
The doorknocker was totally askew.
He pushed on the loose door.
eeEeeeEEeeEeeeEeeeeeee
The place had an eerieness in the daytime, but now? It sounded like refuge and safety.
He was still impressed by the interior, even with it's crumbling and dusty infrastructure.
Why did people trash a perfectly good home like this? Why not fix it?
When, while he didn't exactly live in squalor, it was not his idea of luxury living that he always dreamed of one day having.
It could look like this. It could look like Doug's place.
Heck, it could look like the Honker Burger or the school.
He just... wanted out of the trailer park...
Anything to make a girl like Judy look at him like he was still a human being.
He looked up the stairs, the stairwell bend intimidating in that moment, even as he knew where it went already. "H'oh boy..." Roger grimaced, second guessing himself when he had initially decided on the second floor as the place to keep her. His palm passed over the orb atop the bannister's post before locking his grip onto the railing
*crk*
*crik*
The house creepily unsettled itself, with each creak yawning out from underneath his heels. It made Roger a little paranoid, as if expecting another set of foot steps to start up anytime soon.
The ceiling came down sharply, the only moment in his life that he was thankful he wasn't taller. There were two empty bedrooms to the right and an alcove of a closet totally stripped bare at the end.
Roger turned left.
The bathroom seemed like the perfect place to keep the hip chick. She could sleep in the tub and he figured she needed a toilet, because everyones gotta have one of those, and what better than one right next to where ya slept?
The floor was ripped up, an almost circle of broken tiles with some more exposed than the others. Rotten wood, water damaged discoloration and splinters; the whole thing reminded him of a bowl of emptied peanut shells.
The only thing that looked out of place was a chain and a pair of handcuffs connected to one another.
He had fed a chain through a small hole in the floor and tied it around a pillar with a famous Bluff Scouts knot, the 'Ring Dinger'.
He laid Judy down.
The handcuffs were from a magic shop, which after removing the safety mechanism, he now snapped and secured around her ankle.
Roger sat back, breathing in the off damp funk of the place.
There she was...
His captive.
"Hrrrrcchh-KUH,AH!" Inhaling into a cough, Judy yiped trying to get out of bed, feeling like she was having that drowning nightmare again.
Her head hurt...
Her mouth felt so dry...
She needed some water...
In the near dark, she turned, wondering why everything felt so rough and hard...
Judy froze up.
Despite her unaligned vision, the image before her seared forever into her mindscape.
To her left and right were the shoddy ruins of a low budget post apocalyptic movie.
And looking down on her was...
Roger...
His face with some well intentioned smile she couldn't decipher, but it made her skin crawl, with his narrowed, goblin like features.
The rankle of the chain had her quickly suck in air as she began piecing together what was happening.
Roger felt like he was seeing her for the first time, and he almost got squeamish with how lovesick he was feeling in that moment. Judy had these deep set raccoon eyes -- no wonder she wore those sunglasses all the time, though now with him being so close to her, they were colored like the ocean, piercing.
Inviting.
A soft face that was stoic in it's beauty, even as she was so obviously frazzled by the situation.
"Judy, it's just me, Roger!" He tried to explain.
"I know it is, you freak! Get me out of this thing... right... now!" She began tugging at it with all her strength, that extra bit of give giving her false hope that it was removable in some way.
"I just want to talk."
Judy spoke through her teeth. "There's nothing... to... TALK ABOUT!" She gave up after one final attempt to wrench it out. She felt so girly. Why did she have to be so weak?
He reached out a hand towards her.
Judy stiffly smacked it away. "Don't. Touch. Me." She made a point of every word, trying to be as threatening as she could muster even in her weakened state.
Roger swiped his hair back; especially slick after all that running around. "Listen, Judy... I want you to like, uh... like, y'know, aaaah..." He was more tongue tied than Funnie around Patti.
Why couldn't he just say that stupid little word? Four letters... he was sure it was four letters.
God his spelling sucked.
L-O-V-E, yeah, four letters.
...
He was stalling, wasn't he?
"Love-LOVE" He repeated it again just so it was clear because he half mumbled it the first time. He tapped his chest, his unzipped jacket flapping with flagrance. "I want you to love me for me, Judy." God, how sappy, how cornball.
Yet he meant it.
"Forget everybody else. It's just us."
It felt so freeing to say it.
"rrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Roger was stunned stupid, nearly having to cover his ears. "You... are gonna be in-so-MUCH-trouBLllle!" Overdramatic in her delivery, Judy really bit into the end of 'trouble', particularly the elongated 'L'. Not one of her best performances - because Roger didn't think he was gonna be in trouble for this.
Roger felt his usual malice for others building, his curled lip and nose like a pitbull's snarl. "You might think I'm stupid, but I'm not dumb. See, I've done the research, and as a juvenile? I'll get a few years - and maybe not even that long - then my file will be sealed and it'll be like this never happened. Now if I was eighteen doing this? Oh man, they'd throw the book at me and thensome!"
Her nose crinkled like she smelled something horrible. 'You can't be serious.' She thought. "People are gonna notice I'm missing, RAW-ger-" She gulped. "And then and then-"
"Ooooo, I like it when you're all scared." He cheesily grinned. Roger then began crawling towards her. "Let me lay one on ya, Judy."
Judy threw up a defensive hand, hoping even the motion would stop him. "What? No!"
Roger lunged, pushing down on her shoulders and pinned her to the ground.
"You can't have me you stupid, stupid, brute!" Judy meekly and weakly struggled against him, pushing against his bony sharp shoulders, reminding her more of when she would reprimand a young Porkchop for jumping on her, though her possible concussion was doing her no favors, any strength she had quickly failing at keeping him at bay, as she felt him sink closer and closer.
Roger stinks! Roger's ugly! Roger's so gross! It was like fight or flight kicked in for Judy in that moment, wanting absolutely nothing to do with him and feeling like her life depended on it.
"Let me kiss you, Judy." Roger was nearly nose to nose with her.
Judy's head flipped back and forth. "No! NYOoo! NrrrnOH!" Her flailing limbs beaned feebley off his shoulders, fists quickly turning girlishly limp, all noodley. One banked off the side of his dimple but didn't even phase him. "GET AWAY FROM ME!" Judy squirmed, kickstarting her body up against his.
"Judy! Judy!" He repeated her name through clenched teeth. "Stop!"
"NO! NYAAAAUGH!" Judy almost sounded demonic with how she scraped her vocal chords while she swished her head back and forth. "NNNGH-UHNN..."
Roger tried anyway, missing entirely, landing in the crook of her neck. He still kissed it, finding the nape of Judy still appealing. "GHLLK-" Her disgust and fear made audible, her feet bouncing up and down. Her voice rose and fell in response to the snatches of wetness that seemingly followed her every move. She forced her eyes shut, nearly tearing up.
Roger went back and forth, slobbering her up from the nape to her throat, switching targets, going from sucking upon her supple neck to trying to get that liplock he so desired while Judy continued to dodge him. "Please, let me kiss... let me kiss-let me, kiss. Let MEKISS-LETMEKISS YOU!" Roger's patience wore thinner and thinner every time he had to repeat it, going from irate to furious. "Stop-HNGH-HUK-RRGH-FIGHTING ME, JUDY!" He shook her by her shoulders before dropping her down hard.
Judy stared up his nose in a daze before his whole face took up her perspective.
Soft wetness met. Roger had to angle himself just so as to not bump his honker into her prim and proper one, managing to seal the kiss. He reached up a hand, partially cupping the side of her face in case she tried snaking out of it.
"Mmm..." Judy smelled amazing, and when he clamped his face down against hers, it was really like she was in love with him.
"MMMFfff!" Roger was like onions made manifest, managing to out-reek the damp and rot of their surroundings.
Things quieted down, and the only thing left was the steaming exchanges from their noses acting as the soundtrack as he forced his kiss upon her. Roger's eyes remained shut the whole time, while Judy was boring holes with her vision; her thin eyebrows twitching with rage.
Devouring her face, even as her nose crinkled, her forehead cinched, making herself as an unwilling participant as she could. He always wanted to french a girl, so Roger's tongue slipped into her mouth, running over her perfectly aligned teeth. Judy tried to get out of it again, but Roger naturally swam against Judy's resisting current, moving as she moved. Roger just had to take hold of her cheek and guide her back into it, that slimy tongue of his moving like she had something inside her head that it wanted. It was possessive and passionate, but one she wanted to reserve for someone else.
His lips raised off hers, his leather jacket squeaking. Roger hovered slightly unsteady while licking his chops, still tasting Judy's apple cider perfume. That brief moment of silence he managed to muster out of Judy making him feel like the frigging man. "Still think I'm worthless trash, Judy?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively.
"Yes you freak!" She then growled in an exasperated haughty teen girl like fashion. "RRRGH!"
She fought with him again, that 'kiss' providing respite and new energy. Judy bucked.
Roger had this idea of what romance was, but he was clumsy and it was clear Judy wasn't interested.
So he was gonna hurry things along.
He thumped her in the ribs, her sweater doing little to soften the blow
Judy wanted to curl up and hold her bruised feeling side, but with Roger atop her, she couldn't, so she just went back to being flat and stiff as a board. "Ow-ooohooohooo..." Judy whimpered.
Judy at least wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of telling him to stop; almost acting like the pain was supernaturally casused and he wasn't even there.
Seeing her like that got him excited. Roger liked that wilted flower tone of hers.
Roger not so subtly moved his hand down.
He was now wrangling with his zipper.
She was familiar with that maneuver and was usually able to deny even the most gropey of scumbag guys, but this was different.
*CRSHZRIIP*
"SOMEBODY! HEEEEEEEEEELP MMFFFFF" He moved to cover her mouth, but felt teeth.
He cracked her across the face like his old man did.
One of his earliest childhood memories.
Just because he spoiled dinner with some cookies...
Judy was left shellshocked.
The building tension in his pants had Roger panicking to get it out.
Then she saw it, out from his tighty whities, his green erection bursting from the tent. She turned her cheek and pressed her chin to her shoulder, trying to squirrel away and hide -- but there was no hiding from Roger.
Roger reached underneath her sweater dress. The material was kinda slippery, but he found his grip.
*SHRIIIP*
With clawed hands, he strained as he pried it apart, his fingers feeding into it and extending out the hole. Her black leggings tore like pantyhose. He knew he hit paydirt when he saw them: Black and white horizontally striped cotton high waisted panties with a sheer little bow on top. The final trailing off stripe was white, which showed off how her panties were pulled snug and sucked in tight into her mound, as the bump was small but obvious with the creasing lines. He tore more of the leggings, leaving them scarred at just above the thigh, the left leg with slightly less than the right.
She got goosebumps, which ran over the skin of her thigh gap and she felt all of the jagged floor. Judy already felt violated, and she hadn't even been fully exposed yet. She tried to close her legs and bring her knees together, but Roger just shunted them open again. Roger formed a fist and shook it. "You want me to give you another licken?" Judy relaxed as much as she could.
With a curled finger, he brought down her bikini briefs with a single tug, bringing them to her knees, leaving them awkward below her kneecaps.
Roger adjusted his gaze.
There was a sprinkling of small red pubic hair just above her pussy, but it lacked any serious coverage, as she seemed to have recently shaved it down and any remnant of the forest was collected into a small strip, the area otherwise smooth aside from a few razor bumps.
Roger began manhandling her and planting his hands wherever he pleased atop her chest as he prepared to slip into her. Judy reacted to the trampling by mashing his cheek into his teeth, her manicured nails nearly scraping. His palm hit the underside of her jaw, before he wrenched her face to the side. Lining himself up with her, he applied steady pressure on her opening. "Roger, stop, STOP, stoooop, ROGER-STOPROGERSTOPSTOAAAAAAAAAAEH-"
His green cock penetrated her, spreading her salmon pink seam which was surrounded by her juicy looking puffy pussy lips, the outer wedges of skin slightly darker before becoming flesh colored again. All his pent up aggressions slipped away as soon as his head was inside her, like achieving a lifelong dream he had never known he wanted.
As he pushed further into her, Roger winced as his skin peeled back for the first time; there was a pinch before it felt like the most natural thing in the world to do. Sliding into her with ease, Judy gasped at the full feeling of his length, feeling like she was being split in half.
It came natural as he began to slowly rock himself back and forth into her as he threw his hips between her legs. Roger couldn't believe how good it felt. It instantly made him forget what he was doing and why it was even wrong. His body entering a primal state, no longer thinking, now impulsive and horny for Judy's teenaged body.
She must've enjoyed it too, but he truly didn't care if she did.
"Hungh, hngh, ungh-" He grunted throatier with every pump. Sharp points that jutted up from the ruined floor poked and prodded Judy; splinters broke off in her, causing her to unintentionally push back on Roger's length as she tried to escape them.
Judy thrashed, throwing her head and chin back, gnashing her teeth. "Nrrrrrrnoooooo-nuh... nooo..." As Roger's humping became more violent, her thin leggings caught constantly, prickly and scratching through easily and cutting up her thighs and everything south of that.
"Ah, Judy... Judy..." Roger moaned with an exasperated quality, her name leaving him breathily, his voice leading the rhythm of his pumps as he called out her name.
Tears streamed down hot while Judy tried to pointlessly hide them, the side of her neck strained vascular as if trying to stretch out her neck, as if she could make her head fall off her shoulders just so she wouldn't feel what he was doing to her, her nostrils flaring, but she broke easily. "Ahuh-ahunh..." Her blubbering like music to his ears.
"Come on Judy-" His kiss like a hot branding iron. "I know you like it."
"Awooooohoohoo..." She sniffled. Roger thrust upwards into Judy, seesawing back and forth, churning her up, which only caused more harrowing whines to leave her.
Despite the power he had over her, Roger himself started sounding incredibly wimpy. "Eee-eeee-eeegh" His voice wavering up and down.
His spasming became erratic. "Roger! You can't!" She knew what was about to happen. Despite having just been a wailing ninny, the old Judy emerged for a moment. "I won't allow it!" Her shrill voice seething and intense, but it was all bluster as he put his full body weight onto her, pinning her to the cracked and broken bathroom floor. Even as Judy's high pitched squealing eventually turned into low gurgles in her throat, it did little to deter him.
He was experiencing his final throes. "Oh Judy, Judy, hngnh!" He continued to call out her name in time with each of his drives into her.
Roger wrapped his hands around her petite hips. He tensed up, his knees stiffened, his eyes squinty. Roger looked like he was caught mid sneeze and gave Judy everything he had.
He shot deep inside Judy.
"GOD ROGER NO!" Judy yanked down on his white collar, but did little else as her grip instantly loosened.
Judy shuddered; she became breathy and quiet, no longer cursing or crying out, his boiling hot seed caused sensations that clouded her judgement for a second, as she saw nothing but white, and then she was back to wishing death upon Klotz' whole family lineage.
His forehead drenched, his hair matted down, Roger could've honestly slept like that -- and it took all the effort in the world to regain his composure.
He lurched back on his knees, and as he fell out of her, his once mighty feeling rod felt ropey and gross. In it's current state, he didn't want it in his pants.
He thought of her hat.
Reaching into his pocket while standing, the plastic frames of her glasses slipped out to the floor in a muted clunk. He wiped her beret against his groin, smearing it in a rag like twist on his droopy, slimy and shrunken wang.
As he cleaned himself, Roger checked for blood between her legs, but it was just incredibly irritated and red with an emerging white glisten.
Roger looked upon her with disgust, forgetting he once thought she was cool and beautiful.
Now he just saw her as pathetic.
Once he got off, Judy now served no purpose to him at this point -- especially knowing now she'd never love him anyway.
He was just green trash, right?
"Here's your crap." Roger tossed her hat to the floor with mean disregard. The downtrodden girl could only find it unappealing in its current state.
Roger lingered for a moment, knuckles tightening, before he began stomping out, a rapid clopping of feet down the stairs before a determined swiping in the grass that became more and more distant.
Judy waited till she was sure he was gone, and in a writhing motion, her curled knuckle limply swung down between her legs, furling back up her underwear. There was a stinging sensation from each of her cheeks as it landed back properly with a *FWUMP*, and it was inspiration enough to get off the floor.
Reaching back, she grabbed onto the sides of the bathtub. Judy struggled to stand up, swinging her top half over the interior. While clinging to the side of it, she looked over her shoulder, in case she somehow missed something -- but nope... Judy found it a better proposition to sleep in here than anywhere else.
Judy paused and forced her eyes shut, wetting her long lashes, as she felt his stuff begin to trickle out of her, creating a dark wet spot on the white stripe of her panties.
Despite the dirt and the natural refuse that had blown in and collected at the bottom of the tub, her every movement was measured as she climbed in one step at a time, not wanting to add a slip and slide injury to her already perfect night.
Like there was hot steaming water, Judy let herself go.
She sunk to the bottom, the filth giving her friction and stability, slowing her descent.
As she laid there, she for some reason pictured a vireo in it's nest.
Judy tried to put her thighs together, but they parted in an instant when she felt that gushing leak. She swabbed at it with her index finger and regretted it immediately as it only just squished the wet spot and made it grow, leaving the digit covered with something sticky and smelly, with Judy only making things worse as she made mud that clung to her while trying to wipe it off.
The cut up and bloody Judy held her sides, shivering through the night in that decrepit hovel.
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Judy's Worst Nightmare