PHOEBE YEARS
Chapter 1: A Choice
Author's Note/ I do not own Friends. Also, I warn all readers that this story contains ANGST! DOUBLE ANGST! HOLY ANGST, BATMAN!
Phoebe Buffet saw the man on the Harley Davidson pull into the driveway. She got a shiver down her spine whenever she saw him. He had a knack for always looking like he hadn't showered or shaved for three days. He was still in his twenties, put there were already sure signs of a potbelly forming. His name was Rick Krendal, but, in her head, Phoebe always called him Creepjob. She didn't care that he had been her stepfather for two years; she hated him.
Creepjob swung off of his motorcycle and onto the driveway. He walked up to the Buffet/Krendal home like he was lord over it. When Creepjob opened the screen door, he saw Phoebe reading a magazine in the living room. She tried to hide the fact that she had been watching him with loathing. "Hey, Sugar," he said as he swung inside the house.
In his pit stained T-shirt and leather pants, Rick Krendal looked deserving of his nickname. Phoebe tried to ignore him, reading her magazine intently. "I said 'Hey, Sugar'," repeated Creepjob.
Phoebe hated being called "Sugar" by this man. He called Phoebe, her mother, and her sister, Ursula, by this name. Coming from Creepjob, it always sounded sick and perverted. Still, she couldn't let him know it bothered her. "Hello," Phoebe responded coldly, not taking her eyes of the article she was pretending to read.
Creepjob didn't get the hint from her attitude; he swaggered over to her. Phoebe felt her gorge rise when he put a hand on her shoulder and looked at her magazine. She tried to turn it so that he couldn't see it, but Creepjob caught her arm and took a good long look at the magazine. Phoebe was only thirteen, but she was already into magazines like "Sixteen". The page she was on showed a blonde woman in a halter-top and tight jeans. Creepjob grinned dirtily.
"You look an awful lot like her, Sugar," he said.
Phoebe honestly tried to make herself look unattractive. She made sure only to wear baggy clothing that wouldn't reveal any cleavage, and had once tried cutting her hair incredibly short, but that just made her look sexier. She couldn't help the fact that she turned her stepfather on.
"How come you never wear clothes like that," Creepjob almost purred.
He was leaning close to her face, his lips right near her ear. Phoebe wanted to punch him, but knew she couldn't. She just shrugged her shoulders and said, "I dunno."
"You'd look really nice if you wore something like that," said Creepjob, stroking her hair, "Yeah, you really would."
Here it comes, Phoebe thought with despair. Just bear through it, and he'll go away.
Creepjob stuck his tongue out a little and actually licked Phoebe's ear. She felt vomit began to form in the back of her throat. Her stepfather didn't stop there, though. He gave her what was supposed to look like a fatherly hug, but was really a grope. His hands were cupped around her breasts. Phoebe noted with some satisfaction that her nipples stayed down. Creepjob brought his whisker-covered face closer to hers. He gave her a shallow, but long, kiss on the lips. He tasted of vodka and moldy potato chips. One hand stayed on her breasts, jiggling them a little, while the other slid down her side.
Oh God, oh God, oh God! Just leave! You've had your little sick thrill, now LEAVE!
He didn't leave. His hand trailed down her side until it came to her pant line. And he didn't stop there. His hand was passing beneath her pants and into her crotch. She felt his hand like a cold piece of meat against her pussy. He circled his hand around until it was on her ass. He gave it a good squeeze. Tears began to form in Phoebe's eyes. She didn't want to lose her virginity this way, not to her perverted stepfather.
Creepjob brought himself around. He was in front of her now; hands still on her boobs and her ass. All over Phoebe's body, her flesh crawled. Creepjob's penis was sticking out like a wooden stake. He was directing it right at Phoebe's crotch. His breathing was very, very deep. His hands were getting busy now. Phoebe felt it on her ass: squeeze, release, squeeze harder, release a little, and squeeze even harder. His other hand was pulling Phoebe's sweater off now. With one last tug, it came off of her like a cork out of a bottle.
Please, stop it! I don't want you to do this to me! I don't want you in my body!
Her breasts were exposed now except for what her bra covered. His hand tried to slip the bra off, rubbing against her breasts as it did. Creepjob's other hand was taken out of her pants and was now unzipping his own.
Don't! For the love of God, don't!
Her bra came down and her breasts were fully revealed to him. He picked up one and held it gently before turning it. Phoebe gave a little squeak of pain, but either Creepjob mistook it for pleasure, or he was some sort of sadist. Either way, his penis was fully erect and fully exposed now. He leaned over Phoebe and the erection pressed into her belly. His dirty T-shirt was rubbing against her breasts now. One of Creepjob's hands was pulling Phoebe's pants down, now. Only a thin layer of underwear was left before he could really fuck her. He brought his grimy face to hers, just after whispering, "Daddy's coming, Sugar."
His tongue was in her mouth! It was slithering around her own like a snake. Phoebe felt her panties yanked off. He was about to do it!
NO!
Phoebe did two things at once. She bit down, hard. A lot of flesh was ripped off of Creepjob's tongue. Second, she brought her knee forward and kicked his penis with all her might.
"AHHHHHARGH!" he said through a bleeding tongue. His voice was unusually high and he was clutching his dick like it might fall off. He was writhing around on the floor like somebody having a very severe seizure. Phoebe leaped off the chair and ran up the stairs to her room, taking all her clothes with her. She didn't care that she was leaving her stepfather on the floor like that. She just wanted the feel of privacy and clothes separating her from other people.
She curled up underneath her covers after getting fully clothed. She lay there and shivered. Creepjob had tried to fuck her. He had kissed her before and had grabbed her breasts or ass a few times, but this was the first time he had actually tried to put his prick into her. She wanted to vomit. Instead, she got horrible shivers of disgust.
A half hour later, a car pulled up in the driveway. Phoebe knew it was her mother, Ellie Krendal (formerly Ellie Buffet). She heard the door swing open. But she didn't hear a scream. Phoebe had expected that her mother, once she found her husband lying naked on the floor, and in a lot of pain, she would scream before calling the ambulance, and maybe even the police. But there wasn't the sound of a scream. Phoebe heard her mother say a few sentences, and then stop. Then there came the sound of her mother's footsteps climbing the stairs.
Ellie Buffet knocked on the door to her daughter's room. "Come in," said Phoebe, curling up deeper into her blankets.
Phoebe's mother walked in. She was a little overweight and wrinkles and gray hairs were beginning to appear, but she could still be considered pretty by many people. Ellie saw her daughter's head poke out a little from under the covers. She walked over the Phoebe's bed and put a hand on her shoulder. Phoebe shivered a little more at this human contact. It reminded her of Creepjob.
"Phoebe," said her mother, "he tried to screw you?"
Phoebe brought her whole head out of the covers and looked at her mom. She was a little surprised that she would talk about it so frankly. Phoebe only nodded in response. Elli sighed, and tears trickled down her cheek.
"Before now," she asked, emotion almost clogging her throat, "has he ever-"
"No, Mom," said Phoebe, now squeezing her mother's hand, "I'm a virgin."
A small smile came to Ellie's lips. "That's good. I've caught him at it before. Staring at you, hugging you a little too often, touching things that shouldn't be touched. I even talked to him about it. He said he was just being affectionate and that I was blowing things out of proportion." More tears leaked out of Ellie's eyes. "The idea that he might try to do something to you wouldn't let me sleep at night. Pheebs, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."
Ellie hugged her daughter deeply. Phoebe cried, too. She had been only a few seconds away from being raped by her own stepfather. She was glad her mother was here now. When they broke apart, Phoebe could see that her mother was trying to collect herself. "Pheebs, there is a decision I need you to make quickly. I've called the hospital. They'll be here in minutes. They'll want to know how this happened. There are two stories we could tell them. We could tell the truth, that he was trying to have-have sex with you, and you fought back. Or we could say that I was having sex with him and it was just an accident."
Phoebe stared at her mother, first in shock, and then in anger. "You want to defend that Creepjob!" shouted Phoebe, speaking her stepfather's nickname for the first time, "He tried to fuck me! He tried to rape me!"
"I know, honey, and I am so, so sorry," said Ellie, crying again, "But I've lost my job, and Rick is the only thing keeping us from being homeless. Pheebs, I need for you to decide. If you want to tell the truth, I will support you one hundred percent. We'll send him to jail. But, just remember, as much as you may hate him, and as much as I do now, Rick is our provider. Please, Phoebe, you're the only one who can make this choice."
Phoebe thought about it. She had the chance to get rid of Creepjob forever. To send him to jail for what he had tried to do to her. But her mother needed him. She needed his money. It would break her mother's spirit if she wouldn't be able to feed her family. And, if Creepjob did come back, he probably wouldn't try anything with her again.
In the distance, Phoebe heard a wailing siren. The ambulance. Ellie heard it too. She needed Phoebe to decide quickly. Suddenly, Phoebe leaped out of her bed and ran downstairs. She saw her stepfather, forever known to her as Creepjob, lying on the floor. She hated him more than she had ever hated another human being. She wanted to kick him in the balls again while he was lying on the floor, barely conscious. But images kept flashing into her mind. No food, ratty clothes, forced to leave in sewer gutters. The fear of losing all her material possessions was great.
The sirens were almost there. Phoebe turned around and saw her mother at the foot of the stairs. She was looking at Phoebe. "You decide, Pheebs," she said.
Phoebe looked down at the sorry sack of meat that was her stepfather. She remembered his disgusting embrace of her. She remembered how he pulled off her clothes. She remembered having to feel his throbbing erection through her clothes. The ambulance was right outside. Paramedics burst into the living room. Decide now, Phoebe!
"This man tried to rape me!" yelled Phoebe to the doctors. They looked at her, stunned for a second.
"I said he tried to rape me!" shouted Phoebe again, "He tried to rape me, and I kicked him in the balls! Now take him to a hospital before I send him to jail!"
The doctors rushed Rick Krendal/Creepjob onto a stretcher and into an ambulance. Phoebe heard her mother's sobs. They were going to lose everything they owned. With her stepfather no longer in the building, Phoebe's anger ebbed. She realized what she had done. She plopped down on the floor and cried. Everything gone, all because her stepfather was a raping pervert. Over the next year, as the Buffet home was repossessed and the bank account vanished, Phoebe would cry many times. And her crying would always include the mantra, "That Creepjob ruined everything."
Chapter 1: A Choice
Author's Note/ I do not own Friends. Also, I warn all readers that this story contains ANGST! DOUBLE ANGST! HOLY ANGST, BATMAN!
Phoebe Buffet saw the man on the Harley Davidson pull into the driveway. She got a shiver down her spine whenever she saw him. He had a knack for always looking like he hadn't showered or shaved for three days. He was still in his twenties, put there were already sure signs of a potbelly forming. His name was Rick Krendal, but, in her head, Phoebe always called him Creepjob. She didn't care that he had been her stepfather for two years; she hated him.
Creepjob swung off of his motorcycle and onto the driveway. He walked up to the Buffet/Krendal home like he was lord over it. When Creepjob opened the screen door, he saw Phoebe reading a magazine in the living room. She tried to hide the fact that she had been watching him with loathing. "Hey, Sugar," he said as he swung inside the house.
In his pit stained T-shirt and leather pants, Rick Krendal looked deserving of his nickname. Phoebe tried to ignore him, reading her magazine intently. "I said 'Hey, Sugar'," repeated Creepjob.
Phoebe hated being called "Sugar" by this man. He called Phoebe, her mother, and her sister, Ursula, by this name. Coming from Creepjob, it always sounded sick and perverted. Still, she couldn't let him know it bothered her. "Hello," Phoebe responded coldly, not taking her eyes of the article she was pretending to read.
Creepjob didn't get the hint from her attitude; he swaggered over to her. Phoebe felt her gorge rise when he put a hand on her shoulder and looked at her magazine. She tried to turn it so that he couldn't see it, but Creepjob caught her arm and took a good long look at the magazine. Phoebe was only thirteen, but she was already into magazines like "Sixteen". The page she was on showed a blonde woman in a halter-top and tight jeans. Creepjob grinned dirtily.
"You look an awful lot like her, Sugar," he said.
Phoebe honestly tried to make herself look unattractive. She made sure only to wear baggy clothing that wouldn't reveal any cleavage, and had once tried cutting her hair incredibly short, but that just made her look sexier. She couldn't help the fact that she turned her stepfather on.
"How come you never wear clothes like that," Creepjob almost purred.
He was leaning close to her face, his lips right near her ear. Phoebe wanted to punch him, but knew she couldn't. She just shrugged her shoulders and said, "I dunno."
"You'd look really nice if you wore something like that," said Creepjob, stroking her hair, "Yeah, you really would."
Here it comes, Phoebe thought with despair. Just bear through it, and he'll go away.
Creepjob stuck his tongue out a little and actually licked Phoebe's ear. She felt vomit began to form in the back of her throat. Her stepfather didn't stop there, though. He gave her what was supposed to look like a fatherly hug, but was really a grope. His hands were cupped around her breasts. Phoebe noted with some satisfaction that her nipples stayed down. Creepjob brought his whisker-covered face closer to hers. He gave her a shallow, but long, kiss on the lips. He tasted of vodka and moldy potato chips. One hand stayed on her breasts, jiggling them a little, while the other slid down her side.
Oh God, oh God, oh God! Just leave! You've had your little sick thrill, now LEAVE!
He didn't leave. His hand trailed down her side until it came to her pant line. And he didn't stop there. His hand was passing beneath her pants and into her crotch. She felt his hand like a cold piece of meat against her pussy. He circled his hand around until it was on her ass. He gave it a good squeeze. Tears began to form in Phoebe's eyes. She didn't want to lose her virginity this way, not to her perverted stepfather.
Creepjob brought himself around. He was in front of her now; hands still on her boobs and her ass. All over Phoebe's body, her flesh crawled. Creepjob's penis was sticking out like a wooden stake. He was directing it right at Phoebe's crotch. His breathing was very, very deep. His hands were getting busy now. Phoebe felt it on her ass: squeeze, release, squeeze harder, release a little, and squeeze even harder. His other hand was pulling Phoebe's sweater off now. With one last tug, it came off of her like a cork out of a bottle.
Please, stop it! I don't want you to do this to me! I don't want you in my body!
Her breasts were exposed now except for what her bra covered. His hand tried to slip the bra off, rubbing against her breasts as it did. Creepjob's other hand was taken out of her pants and was now unzipping his own.
Don't! For the love of God, don't!
Her bra came down and her breasts were fully revealed to him. He picked up one and held it gently before turning it. Phoebe gave a little squeak of pain, but either Creepjob mistook it for pleasure, or he was some sort of sadist. Either way, his penis was fully erect and fully exposed now. He leaned over Phoebe and the erection pressed into her belly. His dirty T-shirt was rubbing against her breasts now. One of Creepjob's hands was pulling Phoebe's pants down, now. Only a thin layer of underwear was left before he could really fuck her. He brought his grimy face to hers, just after whispering, "Daddy's coming, Sugar."
His tongue was in her mouth! It was slithering around her own like a snake. Phoebe felt her panties yanked off. He was about to do it!
NO!
Phoebe did two things at once. She bit down, hard. A lot of flesh was ripped off of Creepjob's tongue. Second, she brought her knee forward and kicked his penis with all her might.
"AHHHHHARGH!" he said through a bleeding tongue. His voice was unusually high and he was clutching his dick like it might fall off. He was writhing around on the floor like somebody having a very severe seizure. Phoebe leaped off the chair and ran up the stairs to her room, taking all her clothes with her. She didn't care that she was leaving her stepfather on the floor like that. She just wanted the feel of privacy and clothes separating her from other people.
She curled up underneath her covers after getting fully clothed. She lay there and shivered. Creepjob had tried to fuck her. He had kissed her before and had grabbed her breasts or ass a few times, but this was the first time he had actually tried to put his prick into her. She wanted to vomit. Instead, she got horrible shivers of disgust.
A half hour later, a car pulled up in the driveway. Phoebe knew it was her mother, Ellie Krendal (formerly Ellie Buffet). She heard the door swing open. But she didn't hear a scream. Phoebe had expected that her mother, once she found her husband lying naked on the floor, and in a lot of pain, she would scream before calling the ambulance, and maybe even the police. But there wasn't the sound of a scream. Phoebe heard her mother say a few sentences, and then stop. Then there came the sound of her mother's footsteps climbing the stairs.
Ellie Buffet knocked on the door to her daughter's room. "Come in," said Phoebe, curling up deeper into her blankets.
Phoebe's mother walked in. She was a little overweight and wrinkles and gray hairs were beginning to appear, but she could still be considered pretty by many people. Ellie saw her daughter's head poke out a little from under the covers. She walked over the Phoebe's bed and put a hand on her shoulder. Phoebe shivered a little more at this human contact. It reminded her of Creepjob.
"Phoebe," said her mother, "he tried to screw you?"
Phoebe brought her whole head out of the covers and looked at her mom. She was a little surprised that she would talk about it so frankly. Phoebe only nodded in response. Elli sighed, and tears trickled down her cheek.
"Before now," she asked, emotion almost clogging her throat, "has he ever-"
"No, Mom," said Phoebe, now squeezing her mother's hand, "I'm a virgin."
A small smile came to Ellie's lips. "That's good. I've caught him at it before. Staring at you, hugging you a little too often, touching things that shouldn't be touched. I even talked to him about it. He said he was just being affectionate and that I was blowing things out of proportion." More tears leaked out of Ellie's eyes. "The idea that he might try to do something to you wouldn't let me sleep at night. Pheebs, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."
Ellie hugged her daughter deeply. Phoebe cried, too. She had been only a few seconds away from being raped by her own stepfather. She was glad her mother was here now. When they broke apart, Phoebe could see that her mother was trying to collect herself. "Pheebs, there is a decision I need you to make quickly. I've called the hospital. They'll be here in minutes. They'll want to know how this happened. There are two stories we could tell them. We could tell the truth, that he was trying to have-have sex with you, and you fought back. Or we could say that I was having sex with him and it was just an accident."
Phoebe stared at her mother, first in shock, and then in anger. "You want to defend that Creepjob!" shouted Phoebe, speaking her stepfather's nickname for the first time, "He tried to fuck me! He tried to rape me!"
"I know, honey, and I am so, so sorry," said Ellie, crying again, "But I've lost my job, and Rick is the only thing keeping us from being homeless. Pheebs, I need for you to decide. If you want to tell the truth, I will support you one hundred percent. We'll send him to jail. But, just remember, as much as you may hate him, and as much as I do now, Rick is our provider. Please, Phoebe, you're the only one who can make this choice."
Phoebe thought about it. She had the chance to get rid of Creepjob forever. To send him to jail for what he had tried to do to her. But her mother needed him. She needed his money. It would break her mother's spirit if she wouldn't be able to feed her family. And, if Creepjob did come back, he probably wouldn't try anything with her again.
In the distance, Phoebe heard a wailing siren. The ambulance. Ellie heard it too. She needed Phoebe to decide quickly. Suddenly, Phoebe leaped out of her bed and ran downstairs. She saw her stepfather, forever known to her as Creepjob, lying on the floor. She hated him more than she had ever hated another human being. She wanted to kick him in the balls again while he was lying on the floor, barely conscious. But images kept flashing into her mind. No food, ratty clothes, forced to leave in sewer gutters. The fear of losing all her material possessions was great.
The sirens were almost there. Phoebe turned around and saw her mother at the foot of the stairs. She was looking at Phoebe. "You decide, Pheebs," she said.
Phoebe looked down at the sorry sack of meat that was her stepfather. She remembered his disgusting embrace of her. She remembered how he pulled off her clothes. She remembered having to feel his throbbing erection through her clothes. The ambulance was right outside. Paramedics burst into the living room. Decide now, Phoebe!
"This man tried to rape me!" yelled Phoebe to the doctors. They looked at her, stunned for a second.
"I said he tried to rape me!" shouted Phoebe again, "He tried to rape me, and I kicked him in the balls! Now take him to a hospital before I send him to jail!"
The doctors rushed Rick Krendal/Creepjob onto a stretcher and into an ambulance. Phoebe heard her mother's sobs. They were going to lose everything they owned. With her stepfather no longer in the building, Phoebe's anger ebbed. She realized what she had done. She plopped down on the floor and cried. Everything gone, all because her stepfather was a raping pervert. Over the next year, as the Buffet home was repossessed and the bank account vanished, Phoebe would cry many times. And her crying would always include the mantra, "That Creepjob ruined everything."