Boosh Drabbles: 1. Noel Fielding
My friend lindamacca, or whoever she is on livejournal (don't remember her LJ name) requested Bob Fossil.
TIME TO PARTY.
For you, my lovely buddy.
1. Bainbridge
2. The Hitcher
3. Eleanor
4. Vince Noir
5. Howard Moon
1. "Ow, my nuts!"
This time it was his nuts that got hurt. Bainbridge twisted them painfully on purpose, enjoying his writhing zookeeper on the slab in the lab.
"I bet it does hurt, bitch." He stopped, proceeding to push those flabby thighs apart. Bobby proceeded to squeal, keeping his legs shut unsuccessfully after the arousing yank of his BobbyBobBalls. Panting and looking down, or, well, over the hill of his belly he soon found Bainbridge was between them.
"T-take me now my little supper-party!" Bob moaned, even louder when Bainbridge grabbed his face, squeezing the plump cheeks in his grip.
"I want you to scream for me Mr. Fossil, is that understood, bitch-cake?"
"Y-yes mghorpf sir! Oh DixieCuppie...AHHH!"
Bainbridge thrust in, unlubed, into the unprepared sanctum of his bitch. Bobby did scream, wailing and wriggling. His arms and body were already strapped in, leaving his legs to kick and twitch. The powerful, painful thrusts of his lover continued unceasingly it seemed.
"It h-hurts Dixxxxxieee!"
"Tell me how much you want a kit-kat in your ass Fossil." Dixon grunted and slapped Bob's man-boobs. "And I'll be gentle."
"I w-wanna Kit-Kat in my assss!" Bob whined and cringed, finally sighing when Bainbridge withdrew, finally lubing himself up.
"Good chap Fossil." Dixon mumbled and spanked the trembling thigh, grabbing the flesh rudely as he continued, much to the shit-faced enjoyment of the Bob beneath him.
2. "Oh! OH! OOHH!"
It was unfortunate, The Hitcher would remark later, that he had been drugged by Bainbridge. Drugged with an aphrodisiac.
The green man slobbered and drooled, thrusting into the squealing blob of a man in his Rape-Chair. He panted, half-naked in his uncontrolled lust like a beast. Bob beneath him drooled as well, liking and aroused by the man-witch's scratches down his back as he was violated by a being he'd never dream of being with.
Of course, when The Hitcher would wake up tomorrow on the rug half-naked draped by a strange man he didn't know, he'd never have dreamed of being with him either.
3. "You seem to be the kind of man Eleanor needs, honey."
He blushed even more than he already was. There he was, finally on a date with a lady...a blind date nonetheless, with someone he thought was to be a man but...
"Don't be so uptight sugah-lumps..." Thick painted finger prodded Fossil's thigh, stirring her date into a startle.
"I'm sorry miss its just that...you look so much like me...not like my mom but like my cat's face when he got killed."
"Aww that's too bad." She cooed after clicking her tongue in a strangely attractive way. Bobby was now pinned by the encroached, thick, feathery form of the attractive older woman.
"You're trembling dear, let me warm you with my love-lumps." Eleanor groaned as she rubbed against him. Usually men would run away at this point, but, stuck behind the table in the secluded restuarant, even if he tried he could not get through with both their pudgy bodies stuck together.
If he tried.
"I think...I like you, miss." Bobby sighed and gave in, his hand dropping his fork to grab a love squeezin'.
"I like you too, Booooobbby..."
4. Vince's former boss panted like a dying dog as he preformed around his trainer. The hard switch of the riding crop would strike his thighs if Fossil didn't kick up his legs high enough.
"Come on then! A proper stallion's got to have grace! Stamina! And perfect form!" He would whip only every so often now, the flabby thighs jiggling with shockwaves, red from the strikes. In return he'd lift his legs higher as he pranced, trying to maintain his form.
"Enough." Vince barked and dropped the lead. Bobby panted and stopped, teetering and tottering in his blue pony boots, head hanging low wishing he could see his owner. If only he didn't have the blinds...
"Time for a rub down."
"Mpfhf!" Bobby neighed, muffled through the bit. He was lead to his 'stable', that is his bed, and he happily flopped down moaning at the pony-plug dug deeper.
"On your sides my little pony." Now Bob could see Vince, as he went to his side, kicking his pony-hooved legs. He aroused even more at the sight of his part-time rider in his riding outfit: boots, white pantaloons and red jacket. Vince began removing most of the tack from his pony, giggling mischievously at the evidence of bobby's enjoyment.
"You were a good boy today Bluebell." Vince left on just enough to admire and keep Bobby in his Bluebell state of mind. The hooves, the arm binders, the headdress and blinkers, not to mention the bit Bobby delightfully played with in his mouth. Bobby was hard now, squirming and playfully neighing as he watched Vince remove his black gloves, shivering with pleasure as his master caressed the side of his buttock. There it was, painted mere hours ago a blue bell. Crude but effective. Bobby liked it. Bobby felt better being a little pony. A portly, little pony named Bluebell.
"Would you like a reward?" Vince blushed, down on his knees besides the bed where Bluebell kicked and neighed. It was obvious, grasping his heat, that Bluebell would like to reward.
"Do you want to let me ride you, little pony?"
Bob nodded, moaning and thrusting to Vince's hands.
"I'd like a ride too, as a matter of fact." Vince smiled and coughed to get back to his composure, dismantling his pants with one hand, the other thumbing Bob's dripping tip. Bobby couldn't help but giggle out of his pony character.
"Down boy, down!" Vince laughed as well and dropped his pants, wearing everything but them. Clambering on top of his 'little' pony he began to slowly remove the plug. Bluebell groaned, almost whimpering until it finally popped out at last. Vince didn't want bluebell too uncomfortable, otherwise he'd have a naughty pony who wouldn't indulge him in these scene sessions.
Sighing Vince settled over his little stallion's staff, lavishing it with lube before beginning to ride. Bluebell moaned and neighed and, as he was trained to, picked up the rhythm at an easy 'trot' thrust. Vince was pleased...quite pleased, moaning and gripping the harness and reigns of his ponyboy.
"F-faster Bluebell!" Vince moaned out, head back as his hair bobbed from the thrusts they shared. His booted toes dug into the bed, and Bluebell could only moan as well delighting he was pleasing the master, and himself, encased in his Master's tightness.
"Neeiggh! Ohhhhfff!" He moaned in his bit, drooling slightly, tossing and turning. His discipline certainly paid off as he gave Vince deep, controlled thrusts upwards. Just was he was trained to.
Vince was pleased.
"G-good boy...good...oh..."
5. "If you don't shake that ass, I'll fire your...ass."
Howard bite his lips, dancing even closer and more vigorously in front of his boss. Of all the things he did to be humiliated, none was more humiliating to him than his monthly excursions to Bob's office after-hours.
"Ohh oh ho Moon, you sure know how to twinkle my toes!" Bob loudly declared. Moon didn't have to turn around to know he was whacking off to Moon's forced booty dance, so close to his lap.
Every month he would have to come in at 1 AM. Fossil would offer him warm milk, but of course he wouldn't drink it. While Fossil sipped and slobbered it down Howard would have to strip down to a pair of shimmery little blue pants, a matching fez and a small vest, looking like some nearly-naked harem boy. Indeed he felt like one.
Because after the dance, he would have to debase himself further.
"Enough Moon, get to work!" Bob pointed down to the rug in front of him, hairy pale legs spread.
Howard obeyed, resuming the all too familiar position. Resuming the all too familiar placement of his hands on pale thighs, on grabbing Fossil's 'little Bobby', and the all too familiar placement of his mouth.
What made it worse every month though, he began to realize as Bobby began to squeal and embarrassingly moan nonsense like usual, was that this was all choice. He could be fired if he didn't do this. But he wasn't fired for doing this. The fact he came crawling here to this miserable job, dressing up like a monkey or sucking his boss off in a little blue fez and pants was a choice...
"H-Howard! MOOOOOOHNNN!" Bobby thrusted, bucking as Howard worked his tongue in all the right places, sweaty hands grabbing his shoulders, touching him, bringing his head in so close his nose was buried in Fossil's groin and...
His pants became a whole lot tighter.
That's why I keep doing this. Howard accepted, taking him in all the way, his gag reflex long gone.
Because I like it. And no one else will have me because of this.
TIME TO PARTY.
For you, my lovely buddy.
1. Bainbridge
2. The Hitcher
3. Eleanor
4. Vince Noir
5. Howard Moon
1. "Ow, my nuts!"
This time it was his nuts that got hurt. Bainbridge twisted them painfully on purpose, enjoying his writhing zookeeper on the slab in the lab.
"I bet it does hurt, bitch." He stopped, proceeding to push those flabby thighs apart. Bobby proceeded to squeal, keeping his legs shut unsuccessfully after the arousing yank of his BobbyBobBalls. Panting and looking down, or, well, over the hill of his belly he soon found Bainbridge was between them.
"T-take me now my little supper-party!" Bob moaned, even louder when Bainbridge grabbed his face, squeezing the plump cheeks in his grip.
"I want you to scream for me Mr. Fossil, is that understood, bitch-cake?"
"Y-yes mghorpf sir! Oh DixieCuppie...AHHH!"
Bainbridge thrust in, unlubed, into the unprepared sanctum of his bitch. Bobby did scream, wailing and wriggling. His arms and body were already strapped in, leaving his legs to kick and twitch. The powerful, painful thrusts of his lover continued unceasingly it seemed.
"It h-hurts Dixxxxxieee!"
"Tell me how much you want a kit-kat in your ass Fossil." Dixon grunted and slapped Bob's man-boobs. "And I'll be gentle."
"I w-wanna Kit-Kat in my assss!" Bob whined and cringed, finally sighing when Bainbridge withdrew, finally lubing himself up.
"Good chap Fossil." Dixon mumbled and spanked the trembling thigh, grabbing the flesh rudely as he continued, much to the shit-faced enjoyment of the Bob beneath him.
2. "Oh! OH! OOHH!"
It was unfortunate, The Hitcher would remark later, that he had been drugged by Bainbridge. Drugged with an aphrodisiac.
The green man slobbered and drooled, thrusting into the squealing blob of a man in his Rape-Chair. He panted, half-naked in his uncontrolled lust like a beast. Bob beneath him drooled as well, liking and aroused by the man-witch's scratches down his back as he was violated by a being he'd never dream of being with.
Of course, when The Hitcher would wake up tomorrow on the rug half-naked draped by a strange man he didn't know, he'd never have dreamed of being with him either.
3. "You seem to be the kind of man Eleanor needs, honey."
He blushed even more than he already was. There he was, finally on a date with a lady...a blind date nonetheless, with someone he thought was to be a man but...
"Don't be so uptight sugah-lumps..." Thick painted finger prodded Fossil's thigh, stirring her date into a startle.
"I'm sorry miss its just that...you look so much like me...not like my mom but like my cat's face when he got killed."
"Aww that's too bad." She cooed after clicking her tongue in a strangely attractive way. Bobby was now pinned by the encroached, thick, feathery form of the attractive older woman.
"You're trembling dear, let me warm you with my love-lumps." Eleanor groaned as she rubbed against him. Usually men would run away at this point, but, stuck behind the table in the secluded restuarant, even if he tried he could not get through with both their pudgy bodies stuck together.
If he tried.
"I think...I like you, miss." Bobby sighed and gave in, his hand dropping his fork to grab a love squeezin'.
"I like you too, Booooobbby..."
4. Vince's former boss panted like a dying dog as he preformed around his trainer. The hard switch of the riding crop would strike his thighs if Fossil didn't kick up his legs high enough.
"Come on then! A proper stallion's got to have grace! Stamina! And perfect form!" He would whip only every so often now, the flabby thighs jiggling with shockwaves, red from the strikes. In return he'd lift his legs higher as he pranced, trying to maintain his form.
"Enough." Vince barked and dropped the lead. Bobby panted and stopped, teetering and tottering in his blue pony boots, head hanging low wishing he could see his owner. If only he didn't have the blinds...
"Time for a rub down."
"Mpfhf!" Bobby neighed, muffled through the bit. He was lead to his 'stable', that is his bed, and he happily flopped down moaning at the pony-plug dug deeper.
"On your sides my little pony." Now Bob could see Vince, as he went to his side, kicking his pony-hooved legs. He aroused even more at the sight of his part-time rider in his riding outfit: boots, white pantaloons and red jacket. Vince began removing most of the tack from his pony, giggling mischievously at the evidence of bobby's enjoyment.
"You were a good boy today Bluebell." Vince left on just enough to admire and keep Bobby in his Bluebell state of mind. The hooves, the arm binders, the headdress and blinkers, not to mention the bit Bobby delightfully played with in his mouth. Bobby was hard now, squirming and playfully neighing as he watched Vince remove his black gloves, shivering with pleasure as his master caressed the side of his buttock. There it was, painted mere hours ago a blue bell. Crude but effective. Bobby liked it. Bobby felt better being a little pony. A portly, little pony named Bluebell.
"Would you like a reward?" Vince blushed, down on his knees besides the bed where Bluebell kicked and neighed. It was obvious, grasping his heat, that Bluebell would like to reward.
"Do you want to let me ride you, little pony?"
Bob nodded, moaning and thrusting to Vince's hands.
"I'd like a ride too, as a matter of fact." Vince smiled and coughed to get back to his composure, dismantling his pants with one hand, the other thumbing Bob's dripping tip. Bobby couldn't help but giggle out of his pony character.
"Down boy, down!" Vince laughed as well and dropped his pants, wearing everything but them. Clambering on top of his 'little' pony he began to slowly remove the plug. Bluebell groaned, almost whimpering until it finally popped out at last. Vince didn't want bluebell too uncomfortable, otherwise he'd have a naughty pony who wouldn't indulge him in these scene sessions.
Sighing Vince settled over his little stallion's staff, lavishing it with lube before beginning to ride. Bluebell moaned and neighed and, as he was trained to, picked up the rhythm at an easy 'trot' thrust. Vince was pleased...quite pleased, moaning and gripping the harness and reigns of his ponyboy.
"F-faster Bluebell!" Vince moaned out, head back as his hair bobbed from the thrusts they shared. His booted toes dug into the bed, and Bluebell could only moan as well delighting he was pleasing the master, and himself, encased in his Master's tightness.
"Neeiggh! Ohhhhfff!" He moaned in his bit, drooling slightly, tossing and turning. His discipline certainly paid off as he gave Vince deep, controlled thrusts upwards. Just was he was trained to.
Vince was pleased.
"G-good boy...good...oh..."
5. "If you don't shake that ass, I'll fire your...ass."
Howard bite his lips, dancing even closer and more vigorously in front of his boss. Of all the things he did to be humiliated, none was more humiliating to him than his monthly excursions to Bob's office after-hours.
"Ohh oh ho Moon, you sure know how to twinkle my toes!" Bob loudly declared. Moon didn't have to turn around to know he was whacking off to Moon's forced booty dance, so close to his lap.
Every month he would have to come in at 1 AM. Fossil would offer him warm milk, but of course he wouldn't drink it. While Fossil sipped and slobbered it down Howard would have to strip down to a pair of shimmery little blue pants, a matching fez and a small vest, looking like some nearly-naked harem boy. Indeed he felt like one.
Because after the dance, he would have to debase himself further.
"Enough Moon, get to work!" Bob pointed down to the rug in front of him, hairy pale legs spread.
Howard obeyed, resuming the all too familiar position. Resuming the all too familiar placement of his hands on pale thighs, on grabbing Fossil's 'little Bobby', and the all too familiar placement of his mouth.
What made it worse every month though, he began to realize as Bobby began to squeal and embarrassingly moan nonsense like usual, was that this was all choice. He could be fired if he didn't do this. But he wasn't fired for doing this. The fact he came crawling here to this miserable job, dressing up like a monkey or sucking his boss off in a little blue fez and pants was a choice...
"H-Howard! MOOOOOOHNNN!" Bobby thrusted, bucking as Howard worked his tongue in all the right places, sweaty hands grabbing his shoulders, touching him, bringing his head in so close his nose was buried in Fossil's groin and...
His pants became a whole lot tighter.
That's why I keep doing this. Howard accepted, taking him in all the way, his gag reflex long gone.
Because I like it. And no one else will have me because of this.