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TWD Season 1 - Clems Lessons in Being An Adult	By : TimedWatcher Category: +S through Z > The Walking Dead Views: 2617 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead nor the characters from it I do not make any money from the writing of this story

Chapter List
- 1-Clem Season 1 Episode 1
- 1
His vision was shifted from on to off rapidly. Eyes like blinkers as the colour of the world changed just as fast. It went from a light orange to a dusky blue in what seemed like seconds. He fought, to keep his eyes open. His system was groggy and firing on back up. His throat ached, tasting dust he couldn't spit out, his wrists feeling sensitive, sore over the feeling of the cuffs having not moved from their position, he readjusted his locks, the pain still lingered. Then he saw him. Through a round punctured hole in the glass of the windshield, he saw his driver, face down in the dirt, blood pooled around him. Had he flown out? No way. He didn't fly out as there was no exit similar to his body mass. Just that hole... It was sort of like the rim of a tequila glass after you grind it in some salt. The edges of it were caked in red, with what seemed to be bits of flesh. Something had tried to reach in.
That's when he realised the barrier between him and the front seat was missing. He raised from the padded seat to see it had gone over. Bless you cheap skates in local government he thought to himself.
Pressing his hands over the seat, his body tumbled over, his body collided with everything. From a dislodged voice box, to seat buckles. He laid for a second, staring up, his head feeling an onset of a dry headache. Even if he got the water he needed, it wouldn't subside the pain, just his thirst.
He repositioned himself, now in the passenger seat, shards of glass on the dash, he could feel it crunch underneath his shoes. Staring through the hole out past some trees, he still wasn't sure whether to get out considering the state he was in. Both he and the cop. The chirping of birds helped a bit in making his decision.
His fingers pulled the handle inwards, causing the door to dislodge and open with a metal squeak. Noise was crisper to the ear now. Placing both feet down onto the soil and grabbing hold of the car door, he pulled himself up, finger tips sweating against the window. Here was the officer. Face down, dead. The sun breaking through the trees and highlighting his corpse. He hadn't said a word to him on the drive over. The guy barely acknowledged him, and when he did, the old codger would give him the dirtiest of looks. Stepping up, he just stared down at the dirty uniform. He wasn't sure if he could give him a eulogy. Both for the antagonistic relationship and how he didn't know a thing about him. Clearly the officer wasn't a fan, as moments before the crash, he turned off the squawk box to turn and try and rant about what he had done. That's when that pedestrian stepped in the middle of the road, sending them into the ditch they were in now. He could see the skid marks the car had left.
He apologized.
He hated to admit it, but the reason he even came over here was for the set of keys that would be on him. As he figured, he could partially see one of the keys sticking out from his back pocket. He wasn't looting the dead. These were the governments keys.
This was the governments gun as well.
As the metal softly tapped against the soft ground, his hands began rubbing the tenderized parts of his wrists. Through his fingers, he could see on the crest of the hill, was somebody in a hat. His hand raised slowly, hoping for a reaction. He got one as they darted off. Must have been the gun he was holding that spooked them off.
Then there was a thunk. He knew it would be coming from the car judging from how close it was. To his dismay, it was a man in uniform. A cops uniform. The jig was up. The cops body was resting atop the frame of the car door, that face of his stared down into nothing. Something seemed off about him. His skin was... yellowed. He tried to think nothing of it. Maybe it was just how the locals looked. Although he didn't even look like he was breathing. He lamented that his escape attempt hadn't even gotten under way. Not that he had intended to run originally.
He clutched the cold steel to his pant leg. Realising how this looked, he tried to plead his own innocence. "Hey. I didn't kill him. I found him this way. You gotta-." The cops head turned in a snap, his mouth agape, letting out some kind of moan. Then he moved from out of the solid part of the door to reveal his lower half. A distended and exploded gut resided there. Intestines swinging to and fro everytime it shambled forth, arms outstretched, leaving droplets of crimson everytime it stepped. Like a fucked up version of Hansel and Gretel.
He retreated back, and in his haste to get away from this thing, he snagged himself on the boots of his former driver before collapsing back into the dirt.
Like some sensitive alarm system, he triggered the sleeping beast which snarled. The heel of his footwear peaked out from behind the stone and quickly disappeared. It acted like a snake as it curled around quite quickly, heading towards him with all kinds of piss and vinegar. This man was not the man he saw in the ride to the West Georgia Correctional Facility. The part of his bald head was ripped, exposing the soft flesh beneath, he could even see bits of skull. His once greyish white hair had now turned blood red, down to the roots. What's worse is whoever scalped him had done a sloppy job. Down from his dome, it led into a diamond cut across his face, leaving his right eyeball completely exposed. This thing didn't care. It wanted him.
His hand trembled and shook, trying to keep the sights locked onto the snapping face lunging towards him every second he wasted.
He nearly broke his finger trying to discharge.
Fuck. The safety. His thumb pressed into the hard switch as he felt the clawed hand wrap around his ankle, it squeezed. He squeezed too.
It stopped, its gnashing teeth now frozen in place. The dime hole began expositing brown liquid. He tried to rise up, but its grip hooked him into place. There was calm in his system, the adrenaline passed as he tried to figure out logically how to escape it. Then louder moans. Down by the police car, more and more had started swarming out from the brush of trees. He stamped down hard on his ball and chain made of flesh, almost breaking the bone. He crushed the lifeless carcass's arm into the ground until the boney fingers gave way.
He began scampering up towards where he saw that person, their outline from where they stood still fresh in his head. Other unfriendly faces started appearing, far off to his sides, their visual details vague, but he wasn't going to stay long enough for them to get a chance to get up close and personal.
Reaching the top of the ridge, he saw the old red cedar fencing. No gated doors. Just his luck. Another one was up here heading towards his peripheral vision. Remembering classes, he placed his finger outside of the trigger area as he took hold of the top of the fence. Pulling himself up wasn't exactly a piece of cake, but it wasn't hard. He swung one leg over, looking once again to now see the almost human looking cop's stiff face coming over the apex of the hill. Their eyes meeting before he tossed himself down into the yard.
===============
The second he made it over, they were pressing into it. Creaking and bending the wood. Those flimsy boards wouldn't last long. He backed off as far as he could, pressing into a wooden patio.
Then fortune smiled as a gun shot cracked out in the distance. Several of them. He waited, like a leaf without wind. There was movement between the cracks of the fence, their shadows fading in and out between every thin line. Whatever they wanted from him, they were easily distracted from getting it.
He listened for them. Nothing. Only wind chimes making their presence known. Then he got a look at the place.
In his panic, he hadn't paid attention to his surroundings. He thought the area was more enclosed with a wall to his right. This was not the kind of backyard he was used to. It was massive. There was a concrete pool that had been sealed with tarp, and a garage that was about as big as a small house.
His firm footing met the first step up on the wooden deck. He paused, hand placed on a guard rail. He was sure if this were any other scenario, he wouldn't try and contact anybody. He was a jail bird, and at any moment, a cat would pounce him. This was something else though. He took a deep breath, then stepped up the remaining rungs. Out of the corner of his eye was a tire swing that lead into a tree house. Spoiled bastards. All they need now is a goddamn trampoline and that's probably stored in their garage.
The curtain was drawn on one side of the screen door, but not the other. Maybe there was an occupant. If there was, the last thing he'd want them seeing is his "piece". Snugging it behind himself, between his underwear and pants, he flipped his shirt over it. He'd seen gangsters in movies doing it, so he figured why not give it a shot.
Besides the early morning sunlight that radiated inside, the only sign of life was a TV that cast a weak blue cascade against the wall and floor. It was like a VCR that hadn't had a tape put in yet. Two chairs had been knocked over by where a family would eat. Then he saw something he didn't want to see; freshly wet blood on the tiled kitchen floor. There was clearly a struggle. If there were was anybody in there, shooting him was probably the last thing on their to do list. Or maybe the only one left inside would be one of them.
Just leave. Just leave. Right now...
Maybe they needed help.
He pulled out the gun from his waist. No need to whip this out at the last second. He brought his free hand to the handle of the door and tried to push it open. No go initially. This thing hadn't seen WD40 in awhile. He could tell it wasn't locked because it was more stuck than held down. He used a bit more force and popped it open. Gun at the ready, he swept the area as best he could. The kitchen was even worse than from the outside. A garbage bin had been knocked over. Cans and cups laid strewn about. The thing that haunted him though, were Little paw prints that crawled from the cabinets into the puddle of red that lay at the entryway to the kitchen. Except they weren't paw prints as he suspected. At several points in the perimeter of the mess, were small hand prints.
What little noise there was from the outside was infecting the ambience in here. It was hard to get a bead on things, but for safety purposes, he wouldn't close the sliding door. If at the last minute he did need to make a quick escape, it could be the second difference between life or death. Darkness loomed in crevices he would never go into. With an army at his back or his front. The power was clearly on, so why not a light? He scanned the walls, looking for a light switch. There was one near the way he came. It was one of those you press and not flip. The light emitted from the hanging chandelier over the table. It wasn't anything fancy though, but it did give the fake bowl of fruit below its debut. The quiet hum of the CRT television was bothering him. He could at least silence that.
-CRSH-CLICK-BEEP-
An answering machine. May as well call it the heart attack. His was thumping.
The LED blinked "3". He decided it was best left alone, as it was none of his business.
That's coming from somebody that just broke into a house.
To the side of it though, was a picture that had come loose and fallen on its back. He picked it up, looking at it as he propped the stand back in place. A nice looking family. The father seemed much older than the wife, strangely. His hand traced along the frame, specifically against the face of the little girl, full lips at her age, bouncy looking hair that was larger than her head... He tried thinking of harsher thoughts, imagining that bloody stain was from her, her little body raising back into unlife, wandering aimlessly before getting trapped somewhere. She could be hiding, right now. Waiting to spring on him at the last second.
That dark thought was thankfully thrown out with the bathwater when he heard static frequency. It wasn't as much a shock to the system as he was familiar with the noise at least. Where had it come from though? It was too fast for him to guess.
"Hello?" It was distinctive and even through the distortion, he could tell it was a young girls voice. Maybe THE young girls voice. She had left it on long enough for him to know too.
Making sure to carefully step over the blood, he ran over and pulled open several of the kitchen cupboards. He mainly found old condiments and boxes of tea bags. Her voice may have been distinctive, but the location had been muffled. He was beginning to think he had heard it wrong, but the final pull out was a bingo.
It was a two way radio. Civilian model. Which means it was total junk due to the small radius. More for sleepover shenanigans or a friend a couple houses down. Not meant for any kind of serious operation. He pressed into the red button and said a low "hello" in response.
"You need to be quiet." Came the advice on the other end. He knew what she meant.
Twisting the right prong of the two on the top, he turned it down to a whisper, his voice did likewise. "Where are you? I promise I won't hurt you... I... came here to help."
"I'm hiding until my parents come home."
His head stopped searching for the source of her voice. "Good idea." He paused, finger off the communicator. "Where are they, if you don't mind me asking?"
There was a bit of time before the response came back. "They took a trip and left me with Sandra. They're in Savannah, I think. Where the boats are."
Where could she be? A crawlspace? Inside the dryer? What if she wasn't the same girl as in the photo and instead a next door neighbour? His mind kept scrolling through several possibilities until the sun glared in, driving him to hold the walkie talkie in front of his face. He smiled, realising where she had to be.
"I'm guessing you're safe." Saying anything was like having sandpaper run through his throat. His lips were dry and cracked and his head still hurt. Water. Oh thank god. Placing down the device on the counter, he checked the weight of this little glass cup before dragging it to his lips. It was warm. It was flat. It was boring. It was liquid gold as far as his body was concerned. He rushed it, feeling it go down the wrong tube, he sputtered, forcing him to cough up inside the cup. He drank it down again.
When it was down his gullet, he licked his lips. You're not supposed to do that but he wasn't going to be digging around for chap stick.
"Yeah. I'm outside in my tree house. They can't get in." He stared intently at it. Then she revealed her position. "See?" She lifted more of the hatchway. It was sort of like a doggie door. "Can you see me? I can see you through the window." She sounded so excited. Trying to impress a stranger.
He had to admit, she did.
He waved a bit... recognizing her now from before. Picking up the radio, he cut the corner near what looked like a kitchen bar, where the people behind, cooking, could serve somebody through this thin cut, to people on these stools on the other side. "By the way. You mentioned... a Sandra, right? Where is she?"
"You mean you haven't seen her?" On cue, cold hands pressed into his back, forcing him down into the hard wood. He let out a holler as both his weapon and his communications fell away, spiralling off in different directions. He only was able to flip over only for her to clamber on top of him, revealing those empty white goblets for eyes and that resolute look that they all seemed to share. They wanted you, and nothing was changing that. She was a red head... oh what did it matter. She was dead and wanting. Her teeth chattered together, those attempted bites made him reel back, but not far enough for his tastes. He could only imagine the diseases swimming in her mouth. What kind of infection he'd get if she sunk those browned fangs into him. Or being at her mercy if she took a chunk off him and he entered shock from the blood loss.
He grabbed her throat, and put his palm to her forehead. She didn't stop, only attempting to change her course with every second thrash against him. It had been so forward with its face, he had forgotten those hands of hers. Those nails dug into his shoulders as it tried to raise him up. He brought a leg up between them then planted his foot between her chest. His left hand moved from her throat, to the hand that had its fingers almost tearing the skin, before she could remove his jugular, his right elbow stuck under her chin. It tried to gnaw downwards but he did his best to lock her jaw into place.
There was a low smack. He looked up in the frenzy to see the girl from the little house on the tree, scared, her eyes closed. She had done her best to attack the thing above him. It took the bait and reached for her, he took the initiative by grabbing the shaking hammer easily from the little girls two handed hold and smashed the face of the thing. It recoiled back against the ground. He straddled atop her, raising himself using her body, his hammer thrown back, tightly in his hand, he began bringing blow after blow down. Her visage cracked after the second, but he didn't stop.
"Did you kill it?" It was the only thing that brought him out of his post kill rampage. He was on his knees, spread in a v shape, hands on his lap. He had left the hammer inside her head. Killing with a gun was just doing your job. An ingrained reflex that was as natural as pouring in the cereal first and then the milk.
This was just murder.
Seeing her, this girl, it was like seeing an angel. Albeit one wearing a trucker hat. That thin looking white gown of hers was ruffled. Her bare arms filled with goosebumps and a wide open neck area. Those tiny straps did little to cover the top half of her. It could come off with the right tug from something... and she didn't seem to have much on under there... he knew she wouldn't be alive in the winter months. He even second guessed survival in the nippy parts of November. Maybe he was thinking too far ahead, but maybe this thing wouldn't blow over in just a week.
The girl looked so sad, seeing this rotted vestige that was her former caretaker.
He ignored the question she posed before, almost bowing to her, maybe try to get her thoughts on something else. "Thank you..." He didn't know her name. He asked.
He was on both sides of the fence, wanting to establish a healthy rapport between them and being genuinely interested. "Clementine." Came the answer.
He pushed himself up, avoiding the blood that was now seeping from the body. "Alright. Clementine. I think it'd be best if you and I-"
"Your name."
It came out so fast he didn't really think about it. "What?"
"Your name. What's your name?" How could somebody who just witnessed what he'd done, sound so sweet.
He gave it to her. She nodded slightly, still kind of staring at him.
He coughed. "I think it would be best if you and I laid low inside here for awhile."
She looked a little heartened by what he had just said. "Until my parents get back?"
"Exactly." He offered her his hand. She took it, and stepped back into the home she had once abandoned.
===============
"It's nice... the light." He nodded, agreeing with her. He hugged close against the wall still, his right wrist on his left, gun trained slightly forward at an angle. He wished he had a flashlight right now. Even going down a brightly lit hallway made him want to piss his pants. That fear was controlled thanks to his number one fan attached to his leg. She would periodically look behind herself, checking for danger. Guess it was nice having a partner - especially one as cute as her.
At the end of the hall were three doors. He looked to her for advice.
"That ones the bathroom... that ones the pantry and that ones the guest bedroom." The middle one, the guest room. Nothing seemed wrong until he saw it slightly ajar. He readied himself, pressing her body away from himself as he walked closer. Something smelled in there. Beyond that, he could sense it.
"Does the door creak?" He whispered.
"No." She responded, sure of herself.
Gun first, he pressed the pillow against it. He gave it a quick push, like a one inch punch. It didn't move. He pushed against it, harder now. It slowly moved, the light from the hall seeping in. He almost relaxed, then flying back as he saw it standing there, not at all moving. It was like he had shut off. The rest of the room revealed the details. It had scratched and clawed at everything, including busting up the blinds. It probably gave up, not realising its exit was right behind itself.
He leaned. It turned.
He ran, bodychecking it to the ground. It tried to fight and scratch, but he smashed the pillow down against its head, then bringing the gun as far as it could go into the material.
There was a muffled pop.
It was dead.
He and Clementine checked more of the house. The basement would be something he'd do by himself. The stairs had been blocked by a book case. He shifted it as quietly as one could. Clem helped too. There seemed to be no further disturbances no matter where they checked. From her room to the upstairs bathroom to, finally, her parents bedroom. The room was a matte red. He wasn't exactly a fan of the colour, but a piece of the wall was indented for a window. He was curious. He crawled over, keeping his head down, then peaking over the sill. It seemed like you could pop it open and get onto the roof. The room would do well for operations and last minute escapes.
Clem still had respect for her parents, and trailed behind, staying out and only sometimes peaking in on him. "Hey Clementine. Do you have any black sheets?" She thought for a second, and then nodded. "Good. I need you to get me one." He inch wormed back as she left. Pilphering thumb tacks from a Ray Charles poster, which he let slide into the loose backend of the bed. He bounced them in his hand like loose change before she got back.
She had brought back a thick one. He hoped she didn't get this from the guest bedroom.
Taking it, he took a corner of the blanket and pinched it into the easily broken drywall. He did the same thing for the other side. Now the room was pitch dark even with the door open. Clementine gravitated against him instantly, which even surprised him considering he was still just a total stranger.
There was a bang outside. Not a gun though. Her hands clinched against him, maybe expecting him to do something. Hesitantly, he pulled at the back of the blanket, trying to get his sights on the streets. He saw two people, impounded, trying to move a car by themselves. No luck. The thought of helping them didn't even cross his mind. Sure he could help them, but from his perch in her house, his eyes tracked to the side to see they had unfriendly company coming their way. He couldn't exactly yell 'hoof it', cause that would only attract them here. It would be best to play spectator in this situation.
"What's wrong?" She pulled on his pant leg, not really able to get a good look considering he was in the way. He let it fall back down. Darkness. She ran to hold again. "Nothin', Clementine. Just some people."
"Real people or bad people?"
"Bit of both."
There was a pause from her. "Do they need help?"
He froze. Telling her the truth might be the worst thing he could do. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and rose down to one knee. "Believe me, I'd love to help them, but I can't risk our safety. You understand?" He could feel her disapointment staring through him.
"So... what do we do now?" She asked with a swaying shrug.
He swiped at his pant legs. "You know... I hadn't thought of that." There were a couple of ways he knew of in keeping a girl like her occupied, though none of them were anything good. "Guess we could try to sleep?" It was the most practical thing available and would make the least amount of noise.
"Okay..." She seemed to want to, then stopped, turning her head towards the bed, then back to him. "But I'm not tired."
He wiped at the back of his neck, having had no ill intent planned... at least for tonight. "Neither am I." It was easy to explain why he couldn't, with all the rules having changed, and what he had seen, the very idea of sleep was a scary prospect. Still. A girl her age needed it more than he did. He tried to think of a way to get a girl like her to get some shuteye. "Do you want me to read to you?"
"I'm not that young." Clementine protested at first, but realised she might have made a mistake after saying that. "Though you could if you wanted to." She dipped her head a little, looking up to him expectantly. Clementine turned her face into her shoulder, a clearly embarrassing thought on her mind, as she rolled her hands on the sheets, then back, a sort of poker tell of her having a tough time spilling it as her arms fell behind her back, hands clapsing. "Mmmm..." Her lips sucked together then popped. "We can do the thing mommy and daddy do."
He gulped, his throat as tense as his heart. "What... thing?"
Clementine giggled. "You mean you don't know how mommies and daddies..."
"I know, I know, but..." The older man looked with grave intent at her. "I have no problem being a daddy, but being a mommy is kind of a big responsibility. You think you're old enough for it?"
Clementine upturned her nose, looking about ready to salute as she tried to look taller - which might have been an impressive height for a midget. "Of course I am."
He pretended to relent to her demands -- but before he could even sit, Clementine ran in front of him, waving her arms. "No! Daddy laid there-" She pointed. "Mommy laid here-" She pat down and then smoothed the side of the bed she'd be laying on.
'Hmmmm, a little bossy for a little girl.' It made him reconsider if she'd be the right target for his advances. After switching sides, he laid down on one side of the bed while she crawled into the other. "Alright. What do mommies and daddies do first?"
"Well first..." Clementine's cheek upon fell on folded over prayer hands. "They KISS." Her hot breath hit his cheek as she took the initiative and gave him a peck, looking like she could barely contain herself as Clementine got all giggley and silly faced.
He climbed over her, firmly planting his arms underneath her bare pits, the straps of her dress hanging loose and nearly off her shoulders. He looked down at her and her scraggly curls, as underneath her cap was a wild crow's nest of bush's on both sides of her head.
He draped himself atop her, lip to lip, his chin extending well down past hers, almost able to glance it off the boney part of her chest. Her body clutched, almost scared of how his face subsumed hers, but she eventually relaxed. He groped at her pre-pubescent body, her small nips feeling like diamonds through the flouncey soft material. Whenever he moved his hands away, she rose up to meet him -- her flat chest raising into his palms like he had a power over her, as she searched for more of his touch, and he was happy to oblige. With shut eyes, she wrapped her flabby yet thin girl arms around his neck before really trying to go for it, rocking her face from side to side. It was clear she had no idea what a more involved kiss between adults entailed, but he appreciated the effort all the same.
He pulled away. "Fwah~" She fluttered her eyelashes, a little more moist than before.
"Was I your first real kiss?" He questioned.
She thought about it, then side eyed him. "Do my mom and dad count?"
He nearly chortled, instead exhaling playfully. "No."
Clementine then wagged her head as if she got the right answer at school. "Then yeah."
He brought her face up to his chin, nuzzling her. "I'm glad, Clem."
There was a quiet blast of warm air against his face from a pleased looking Clementine, reminding him of a cat when he scratched behind its ear.
"Now what?" Maybe she was a little more mature than he had preemptively, and he was curious to see if she knew enough to go down the path he was going to lead her.
Clementine looked like she had seen a ghost, looking both ways, then down. She motioned for him to get closer, and he did, almost bemused as to what he was about to hear. "Mommy puts her face in daddy's pants." Her low childish voice as close as it was in his ear, whispering to him about such things, made him think evil thoughts.
"You've seen your parents do this?" He asked incredulously.
Her lips pursed, a light tilt of her head. "What did she do?"
"Well mom... got on the bed..." On her knees, split down the middle in a V shape, it took her a second to remember what to do next, as if counting off the next beat. 'Oh yeah.' She quietly mouthed. Hands on her thighs, she dragged her dress up her side, posing in a way that belied she had some understanding of what sexuality was, but not the full context of what she was doing. "Does this uhm... you know... uhm... make you, uh..."
"Make me hard?" He asked, trying to suppress a smirk, as her nubile young body had his mouth watering already.
She got tight lipped, folding them into her mouth, almost embarrassed as she nodded, unable to meet his gaze. "Yes sir."
"You do indeed."
She got real curious, her apprehension subsiding. "Can I see?" Oddly hopeful when she said it.
Now that she mentioned it -- he wasn't sure how to start either, only having done this with a couple of other girls her age, and in a world that was far saner than it was now. While standing back up, he reached for his button and fly, as Clementine crawled on hands and knees to the edge of the bed as if he had a puppy hiding somewhere and was about to show it off to her.
Then out it sprung, drooping heavy. "Wow. You got like that... from me?"
He nodded, happy to show off his erection to her, closing the distance between them. As she felt it and prodded it, her lips lightly protruded forward, as if wanting to kiss it already -- but he kept his distance, not wanting to scare her off, as she seemed like she was having fun. It was more exploratory in nature than erotic, though for him it still felt incredible as she fumbled with his cock, loving the contrast, as her little hand against his penis made it seem like he were a giant down there. It's weight also seemed to tell her something, almost on a holistic level, and she raised her other hand without prompt to get it into a far more steady state, bridging her face and it closer together, before she began to jerk it. "Ah! Clem! You got it." It was slow and steady, but she was really doing it.
"Teheh-" She girlishly snickered to herself, then exchanged a quick raised eyebrow with him like she knew exactly what she was doing -- but she really didn't, as her age and inexperience quickly became clear, as Clem began to squint, now doing it more out of determination to prove something to him, than for her own youthful inquiries about sex or a man's penis. He could hear hushed sighs and grunts escape her throat, and her pace began to slow ever so slightly -- yet the image of a little girl on her knees staring into his penis was a hard one to beat.
"Do you think you could swallow it?"
Clementine tried her best to mentally digest what he said, her brown eyes searching in several different directions first, then looking back to him for help. "Like... eat it?"
"Something like that -- you ever sucked your thumb?" Clementine thought about it, having vague recollections of it from when she was really little. She nodded. "Well it's kinda like that, only bigger..." His breath got short and whispery, thinking about her doing it to him got him bothered under the collar already. "And remember: absolutely no biting." Clementine mimed trying to do the activity just a couple inches away - her tiny lips and even tinier wrist making her look look like she could barely eat a hot dog, let alone get this thing past her front teeth.
Placing the tip near her mouth, Clementine puffed her cheeks out, before she took a brief taste of it, flicking her tongue at it, before taking it out and looking at it again, as she seemed curious about it's form. "What's it taste like?"
Her face ran through a few emotions, swirling it around. "Salty." She spat out.
"Anything else?"
She shook her head. "Just salty." As she put it back near her mouth.
"Is that bad?" He asked breathily.
Clementine took another swallowing pop of his cock. She gave a very practiced shake of her head. "Mmmm... no."
"Ah... that's good." He pressed down a little on the back of her head, her curled hair tough and strange. "A lot of girls don't like the taste."
Clementine could only think those girls were dumb as she gave it another swirling. He lurched further and further into her mouth, her jawline extending with every inch. Light nips from her teeth were easy to put up with, her struggle with the whole process clear. There was no frustration in his smile, in fact, it just kept growing wider. Her hat would dip and obscure her face, before tipping back upwards, exposing that wide grin of hers as she licked on his tip like the little goblin she was
Though she had a lot of enthusiasm starting, it was clear her mind wandered. Though it wasn't out of a disinterest, it was just that she just wasn't old enough to have the attention span to maintain her interest. It was funny, even with her parents and neighbors dead, she still was probably thinking about what was on TV later. Her energy was always absentminded, her eyesight and body trailing from his cock, having to nudge into her to remind her of her duties, his annoyances always tempered by reminding himself that 'she was just a child', and even better -- that she'd learn how to over the coming weeks.
Clementine wrestled with his worm, a pained expression and shut eyes as she slipped it out, then inhaled it right back in. He pat down her nappy feeling hair sticking out from underneath her cap as she looked up to him for approval of her methods, and indeed, it was working - though he couldn't force her into a deepthroat, her miniscule tongue licking underneath his dickhead, her big eyes looking up to him and the warmth were getting him to that point, and he began firing his load. The sudden lunge alerted her that something was wrong, but his sperm soon began to fill up her throat which she had trouble with, as trying to swallow the thick substance sent the meat lozenge further down her gullet, causing little coughing chokes which escaped over his prick like exhaust, her eyes widening like saucer plates. He eventually extracted himself after her cheeks had ballooned, filled to the brim, before she was allowed to slide off him entirely; his cock leaving her with a final insulting spurt below her left eye, which caused her to blink rapidly and her nose to cinch.
She held the expression as long as she could, before sticking her tongue out with a curdled lump. "Bleh-" Her tongue sat cutely, reaching up her small hand to catch this nasty stuff.
He softened his expression and voice. "Could you swallow it?" Her hazel eyes hit the side of her head as she looked his way, not wanting to make sudden movements with this goopy substance leaking from her mouth. "Guys like me really love it when you do."
"Ulp...ogae-" She mumbled out her best 'okay', then proceeded to gulp it down, her cheek bones wincing, her nose flaring for a second. "Mmmph... ahhh-" Clementine showed off her blank tongue like it was a homework assignment and he was double checking that she had actually done it. He actually got a kick out of it, like it was her downing a spoonful of bad tasting medicine.
He kicked back, needing a break, but the little minx was excited, landing in his bare lap, grinding her tush into him. She weighed practically nothing, loving the way she wrapped her arms around his neck. He flipped up her dress. Slim waisted, yet she still had this tummy that he couldn't help but push his hand upon, her flat chest and visible ribs led into a belly that stood out further over her panty covered crotch, but she was neither chubby nor fat. She was soft and smooth all over and he sunk his teeth into his lower lip, letting her know what he wanted. He ran his fingers up her cute cotton white set of panties. "I'd love to have you this way, but believe me - it'd hurt you a lot, and-" His hand moved up and rubbed her taut tummy, her belly button barely even the size of a dime, yet always sticking out and visible with a solid stretch of skin. "I don't want to hurt you."
"Aw..." Clementine whined in a way that knew she understood.
His caressing of her midsection continued, which further seemed to stimulate her, her eyes locking with his, and it was like he had control over her mind to a point where she wasn't even blinking. "But there is a way we can still do it like mommy and daddy..."
Her eyes bugged out. "Really?" She sounded hopeful, her temperature rising. He was sure she'd even be blushing if she was capable of showing it. "How?" Clementine propped herself up by her elbows.
He nudged his head. "Lay down, stomach first." But before she could enact his instructions, he raised a finger. "Oh - underwear off first, sweetie."
She hurriedly nodded, leaping off him. Standing upright awkwardly on the unfirm surface of the bed, Clementine did the least sexy striptease he had ever seen, as it looked more like she was kicking one foot down then the other as if trying to get ready for a bath than to impress him, but he still got a show. Like any girl her age, she had an almost stubby legged look, her thighs appearing bigger than they should considering her size, her dark bottom barely existing yet still curving out. Almost tripping after kicking off her undies, but making it look like an intentional landing, she stuck up her butt and sank her knees into the bed, her feet going from side to side like a metronome. He crawled over, grabbing one of them; the bare bottom sole lighter than the rest of her little foot, toes tiny and chewable looking - her big toe not even bigger than some of his teeth. He danced over it with his index finger, causing her to flail. "Nuuuooooh~!" She whinnied.
"Oh my, you're ticklish." Each toe was like a mini marshmallow, feeling like they could be plucked off with barely any force from him, and he gave each one of her stubby flexing little toes a pinch. He soon let it go after another sputter from her, and he could see the smile she was trying to hide after he had done it.
She wouldn't be smiling after he got started.
Moving her thighs apart and splitting her, her spread cheeks revealed an almost untanned area of milky coffee; untainted and totally virginal. Her little light brown pussy lips had a plump look to it despite how slim the slit was, as if her age was telling him that it was sealed off for business until a later date, as it was able to be covered by a single finger of his. Running a hand up her short yet slender thighs and legs, he pressed his digit to it. He felt its hairless smooth perfection, and the heat that radiated off it. The cinnamon colored nethers had a moistness gushing as he he swirled his finger between them and now a moan escaping her.
It was a tease however, as he raised his hand and he brushed his finger higher against a certain dark entryway. Her chubby thighs tightened together, her anus clenching against his finger. "Mister that's my-"
"I know." He huffed into her ear.
She paused, thinking about it. Clementine threw her chin to the side. "But won't it be gross?"
He reassured her. "No - trust me."
"Oh... okay." It was like she didn't believe him, still checking over her shoulder.
Getting intimately close with her sweaty looking dark starfish, his tongue stabbed at it. A familiar tasting earthiness and wrinkled skin texture - yet there was something more, maybe real, maybe invented -- but there was nothing like the sweet taste of a little girl's derriere. Scarfing down on her tiny pucker, his slobbering tongue working its way into her as her backdoor winked, allowing it to go further. "Hah... hah... hah..." She breathed out in gasps while Clementine burrowed her face into her crossed arms.
With his nose poking over her little cheeks as she pushed back into his face, he asked her. "How does it feel, numf, Clem?"
"Strange... mister." She hoped he wouldn't be offended, it was just the first thing that came to mind.
He stopped only for a moment. "But a good strange?"
"Uh huh." She wiggled her ass against his face, which considering how taut and tight her buttcheeks were, he barely noticed.
Clambering up, he was sure Clementine's spitshined asshole was ready for use. With a swipe of his lip, he positioned himself.
As he placed his thickness to her hole, she squirmed in his grasp, a sense of terror in her system, he could already tell with the way her body seized up, the already tight ring sealing itself further. Now feeling like an archer sighting his target, he lunged forward, not wanting to miss the opportunity in case she tried to change her mind.
"UHL-" Her voice got caught in her throat as he bucked at her. He hadn't fully penetrated her, but the wall was gonna break. He squeezed on her skinny midsection, barely needing to scale his palm against her to get a full grip. "Call me daddy, baby." He pressed his head harder between her cheeks.
Her hair flipped as her head turned to see him. "B-b-but-"
"Your daddy's dead. I'm your new daddy." His voice went from a seething horniness to a dire seriousness. He parted some of her heavy curls, before taking hold of her bean like chin. "Now tell me: Who's your daddy?"
Tears streamed down her light mocha face. "Y-y-you're my daddy."
"That's right -- and daddy loves you." He laid hot kisses upon the side of her face, kisses she now tried to dart and squirrel away from, but there was no place she could avoid him.
"Nnnnnf, sttttttt-" She attempted to tell him to stop, but she got too flustered, her face contorting, her face throwing back, chin raised. He hummed his approval at her submission before he pressed his full weight on top of her, punching through into her asshole. Even just the head felt like he had shoved his fist into her. Clementine shot up, primed as if to run away, her spine curved, her arching doll's feet curling, her toes snagging into the sheets.
"Oh fuck, you're so tight." He had planned to not swear around a girl her age, but it was too much to handle.
She blinked into a pained expression feeling another inch forced in. "Ow ow ow ow! Take it out mister!"
"Shshshsh, my little Clementine, it'll feel good soon, I promise!" A lie, but it always worked as humped at her.
"Mister... it hurts!" Her face soured, a tear slipping from each side of her face. "Really bad!" Clementine's swaying struggle only allowed him to jam himself further into her.
He hushed her, a finger upon her supple lip. "Shhh, shh... you don't want them to hear right? And I promise... it'll feel good soon."
Again, she didn't stop, looking about ready to start full on bawling.
He put his hand on her scruffy hair, trying to find her face, before ultimately covering her mouth, her hot breath steaming on his palm. "You gotta be quiet." He told her in a hush. "Remember what's outside." As if on cue, a groan howled in the distance.
She nodded.
He let go of her face.
There was hardly a peep from her.
Usually with girls like her, he'd be giving them intermittent shush's, or even worse, reminders of violence... but she was such a little trooper. Even with the next tug of his dick feeling like she had suctioned so tightly around him with her anus that he'd pull some of her insides out with him, she only whimpered within her chest. He didn't bounce or bob, he wasn't gonna tear her apart, as he'd probably have all week to train her to be an anal queen until her pretty kitty was ready. "Ah... hah..." Her panting tongue as if she were a bitch in heat, her voice rising, which she quickly covered her lips with the back of her hand, making the cutest little throat noises as he remade her insides in his image.
He looked down, seeing how snug his cock was in her brown hole, the contrast delightful, and the way it was obviously not built to accept something this big in there made him feel like he had the biggest cock in the world. Despite how small her butt was, each cheek was filled with enough babyfat to make them still grippable in a satisfying way, resistive in their youthful springback as he palmed them and sank his claws into them. After a certain point, there were no more noises from her. Her little face went through several expressions instead. Almost robotic, unable to comprehend what was happening to her: She was taking a full grown adult's cock, and she wasn't happy or sad or even mad about it. Clementine had no thoughts or opinions after a certain point, she couldn't put it into words -- she just had reactions. She tried to keep herself quiet, reminding him of a fish searching for air, mouthing out the 'ow's instead of saying them.
As he delivered his final thrusts, he stabbed downward, planting his flag as deep as he could inside her. He could feel every bit of his expansion inside her tight little asshole as he exploded deep down into her chute. Clem barely had the strength to pull out the sheets of the bed, instead, choosing to sink her face into a pillow, her hat flopping off, as he let out grunt after throatier grunt of his satisfaction.
Leaving her with a stretched out gape, retrieving himself from her was almost as difficult as getting into her. A sticky string kept them attached for a brief moment before quickly breaking, as her little butt poured his cream out in a flowing leak, the cavity too small to hold his full load. Huddled forward, she hid her face from him, while her now O ring swallowed for air, pushing more of his planted seed out. He gripped the side of her buttock, causing a stirring shudder throughout her system and getting more of his goop to loosen in a snot like drip from her ruined exit, now his entryway. He smiled at her fright.
He only hoped he'd live long enough to break her cherry.
- 1
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TWD Season 1 - Clems Lessons in Being An Adult