A Head in Life - The Hitcher/Lorne, crossover
Rating: STUMP FUCKING
Warnings: Detailed forced blowjobs, backwards blowjobs, gore, blood, two green men.
Fandoms: The Mighty Boosh/Angel
Summary: Lorne gives The Hitcher one hell of a surprise, caught in the act of stump fucking his throat. Detailed skull-rape ensues. ;D
-----
“Hey hey hey hey HEY! Eaaasy on the suit!”
The Hitcher smirked though he was still quite angry. “We’ll see you posh bastard.”
“Listen buddy, I told you the side effects of that spell…”
“You didn’t tell me it would give a man PURPLE FEET!”
Laughing Lorne rolled his eyes, shoved against the wall of his client’s modest castle.
“I’m sorry boy, but your times are up. I have no use for a being who’ll give me purple wolf cankers now hmm?”
“Riiight.”
Laughing he pulled out a knife, bringing it against Lorne’s exposed throat.
“Now now, honestly don’t be hasty…! Purple and green are a fantastic color combination…”
“But, I’ve still got use fer you yet you slag.”
“Why don’t you put the knife away, haha, you know…”
“Goodnight, fag.”
--
Lorne’s headless body was bleeding in a heap on the rug. Course the man-witch was too horny to even think about cleaning it up.
“Bloody wanker…worry about his suit did he? OooOohoho if only he could see the stains now, he’s probably piss himself with fright! “Ooh, gotta get to dry cleaning! I’ve got a shoooow to do!”
Laughing he licked his blade clean…spitting out the demon blood, the bitterness quite a turn off. Course, the head was what he was mainly after. He rather liked the demon; green as he was, obviously aligned with the more darker side of things. And quite a face; cheek bones and horns. IT would make an excellent addition to his head collection once he pickled it.
But first…
His thumb caressed and pushed at the flaccid cheeks, feeling the cheekbone, the limp jaw. the mouth was freshly wet and he pulled the jaw open, smirking at the challenge of the sharp teeth.
“Guess I’ll be puttin’ in the other end.”
Whistling a happy tune he put the unfortunate head to his face, giving the skin a lick. He was already moaning a little, tasting the interesting feature of the small horns. Hmmm, oh yes, horny little slut he was the villain thought. The hair was slick with product though, but it smelled like juniper and fireplace.
“Mmm…makes me think of Elsies…” Burying his thick nose in the hair he took a whiff.
“Gotta rape demons more often, I think!”
The Hitcher was in the privacy of his own home, free to talk aloud, free to make out with a beheaded green monster-man. His tongue darted around the sharp teeth.
“Shame…” Panting he sucked a bit on the deviously-pointy nose, his left hand kneading the front of his pants. “…probably should have kept him alive. Would have been a good fuck…”
Growling he spat, the canine tooth almost cutting his tongue when he went back to enthusiastically Frenching the dead mouth.
“Probably better dead, if he’s still got a bit of bite with him yet!”
With a raspy laugh he unzipped himself. He was surprised how much the chap aroused him, but he could see why; the closet thing to himself, save for the flamboyant part. But, too late now since he’s dead. Panting slightly he eyed the limp body’s pert little ass laying in the dark blood puddle.
“Mmm…get to that later…Now…”
The wrinkled green fingers squished and squirmed into the muscle of the neck-stump, finding the tube for the devil’s esophagus. He even shivered a little where he stood, just anticipating the wet, bloody feel of a head around his cock…
“Oh…oh yes…you dirty fucker…bet you sucked a lot of cock with THIS!” Sniggering he smeared his dick against the interesting texture of the demon’s face, drooling. “Wonder if there was a vampire in there? Hmm? Well this’ll be the biggest one you’ve sucked ye-“
“Oh hellllooooooooo!”
“OOHOH MARY!”
Jerking he fell back, flopped in his arm chair. The head dropped, bounced once on the floor and, unfortunately for The Hitcher’s wide-eyes, facing him.
“….hmm…” Lorne blinked, licking his lips and the inside of his mouth. “I say, were you….oh.”
The Hitcher said nothing, too creeped out in the moment to wipe the sweat from his brow. Staring.
“Ahhh.” With a twinkle in his eye Lorne grinned, flexing his jaw. “You taste like brandy. And urine.”
“You…you DEMONS!”
“Yes, well. That’s Anagogic Demons, for you. I’d shrug if my shoulders were still attached, but it seems that they’re still lying on the floor over there, with the rest of me…”
“Fuck…fuck you. You…!”
“Hey hey heeeeey you’re the one who likes me! Funny I never picked up on it! What an odd way to figure that out…eww…you licked my horns didn’t you?”
Coughing he finally did wipe the sweat, sitting up and adjusting his clothes. “What if I did? You’re the one all beheaded and what-not. I’m evil, and I’ll do what I want with you.”
“Even making out with me like a horny teenager?”
“…shut your pie-hole.”
Looking down Lorne also saw something else peeking from under the witch’s coat.
“And…other things in my mouth as well.”
The Hitcher’s face was a mix of red and green, much like a Christmas tree. He didn’t know whether to be completely angry…or aroused. Or both.
Plans were hatching in his head like pigeon eggs.
“I don’t mind, you could have asked! Well, I would have said no, I don’t know how safe you are but…”
Grunting The Hitcher walked over, setting his boot on the demon’s temple, pressing. Snarling he contemplated ending this little fright once and for all.
“What, what are you doing? Don’t you want to be all diabolical and nasty to me? Wasn’t I a good enough kisser when I was dead?” Lorne nervously laughed, exclaiming ‘Oww!’ once pressure was applied.
“Now, Mr. Lorne…” Images of blood spurting, melted brains, crushed skull filled his eyes as he looked for fear in the head’s red gaze. “Why should I keep you alive, er, alive-kinda, hmm?”
Gulping (which caused a splurt of blood to ooze from around the hacked spinal choard) Lorne himself had a few ideas as well.
“If you don’t crush me…I’ll…ah…ah…”
“You’ll what?”
“I’ll preform favors.”
My what a bleeding faggot, nonsense pansy-ass pig-sniffing… “Why and how? You’ve stunted me boner boy! I’m not in the mood anymore for trifle coupling’s tonight!”
“I sense otherwise, sir.”
Lorne struggled not to smirk. He could feel how aroused he was. He picked up immediately even how this man, who looked well-angry, was getting off on dominating him. The twitch of the boot digging into his head, the dirty words he heard when he was waking-up, the rough pushes and threats and gay slanders…oh, he knew alright. And if he played it right well, he can get out of here. With head and body.
“What didja call me, squire?”
“Sir, please…spare a worthless…demon. I’ll even take it up the throat, if you like.”
He tried not to stammer and puppy-dog his eyes too much; if he did his game would be up. Luckily for Lorne The Hitcher was not that smart, due to the rising size of his, ah, ‘eel’ and the changing expression on the old geeza’s face. There was no doubt to Lorne how powerful this witch was, but the old man’s emind seems to be governed by his penis and his bladder, and tonight it was his penis.
“Oh, really?”
“And free drinks at the club! F-forever! If you reattach me, then I can…ah…do these things more often I suppose…”
“Suppose? That’s not good enough for me, songbird.” He stooped and picked him up, gripping Lorne’s hair a bit painfully. Wincing Lorne gulped again, starting to feel a little funny about this. Funny in his pants. Which he didn’t even have.
“Okay okay! Friends with benefits?”
“Skip the friend part and go right to fuck.”
“My you reaaaally want me…”
“Stick a cock in it queer.”
With that The HItcher ravenously kissed him. Tongue, teeth, chewing the plush red lips of the demon. His eyes were narrow, watching and feeding off of Lorne’s reaction. Lorne was surprised, having trouble kissing back. He uttered some soft noises and another ‘ow!’ once his lip was bitten by flat Cockney chompers. But he had to give in; he was starting to like this. How rough and weird this sex was going to be, being violated so dominantly by a ratty-haired English magic-man.
Grinning with triumph he went back to his chair, sitting down with legs spread and plopping the head in his lap. Now he was face-to-face with it; a massive, green phallus, thick and pulsing. He couldn’t remember if it was bigger than his other lovers, but he was having trouble thinking right now.
I feel delirious. Is this really happening? Man am I a whore or what…I actually WANT this.
The Hitcher also noticed that Lorne’s flushed, staring face wasn’t faking. Now that he got over the surprise of the actual head being a live, he intended to use his new part-time pine-flavored slut for all its worth. Holding him by the hair with one hand, the other angling his erection he pressed it against the devil’s mouth.
“One bite and I’ll put it in the ear you he-OH.”
Lorne got right to it. It was truly exhilarating, even though his heartbeat was actually thumping over yonder, on the carpet. Sucking he tongued the tip, trying to go down but, remembering the lack of body, couldn’t. The Hitcher being rough as he was started to grunt and jackhammer the head up and down, up and down at a moderate pace. Lorne was having trouble keeping up, shutting his eyes and trying not to cut the throbbing flesh in mouth and throat. Up, down, up, down…saliva and blood, his mouth stuffed and cheeks bulging as he sucked.
“Mphrfgh…big…”
Sweet Satan…! He thought, making wet sounds and even whimpers. No control…come on not so hard! “Horrgk!”
The Hitcher was getting amused as well as hard. Laughing low he watched as he twisted the head around, milking himself with the tight constricting vice of the sucking throat, Lorne’s eyes bulging and the lips shift into multiple expressions.
“Gurgh! Mporhrgh! Mphfggh cut it ou-uurhffff t man!”
He didn’t fail to notice the blush on Lorne’s cheeks as well.
“You’re getting off on this mate.” Hitcher moaned, slouching more comfortably in his chair. Now he held the head with both hands, slowing him down to ‘Mmmmm!’ and savor it. Lorne was gasping around the dick, his whole lips and the tip of his nose wet with pre-cum and saliva. Unable to wipe it off.
“Mmmrgh mprhf, mrhgfhg!” You…dammit he’s right. Shutting his eyes he wished he could alleviate this familiar tightness and aching he was having, but it was only nerve-memory since his dick was currently misplaced. Gasping he wheezed and moaned once The Hitcher decided for some mercy, hanging him by his hair. Tingling his scalp.
“You are. Your corpse is twitchin’ with a boner.”
“N-no it isn’t! Gah…uh…bibbbblleee…” Drool was freely dripping from his mouth, normally he was far more clean at this but the back of his throat was hurting and his mouth had lost control.
“You liiiike being a helpless horny cocksucker. I can tell. Just lookatcha!”
The Hitcher turned his head to see his corpse, which was laying on its side. Twitching, undulating its hips about. But then it flopped over, full-frontal into the pile of blood once The Hitcher stroked his ears.
“…ahhhhhhhnnnnn!” Lorne quickly shut himself up. Blinking he hadn’t recalled moaning that loud in his life, without jizzing that is.The corpse thumped a few times, humping the ground.
“You dirty old man…” Spitting he glared at his horny new master, who continued playing with his ears.
“I’ll never get tired of rapin’ helpless blokes like you. Ya think you’re on top of the world all nasty and evil till you’re brought back down like the bitches you are.”
Lorne couldn’t respond in the moment. He was still heavily breathing, and the cock was still waiting.
“But you were not nice to me with your spells. So.”
“URRRK!”
He had no time to prepare: the edge of his throat, rudely cut in half hurt as The Hitcher forced his cock up through the throat. He could feel the head, thrumming at the roof of his mouth, once completely impaled inside. Gasping and choking it was feeling more unusual than anything, mouth open and gasping unable to lick, touch, nothing. Just his throat.
“Having fun?”
“Urk…Guh…guh…”
“Just as I thought. A yes.”
Lorne felt how utterly aroused this man was. It was radiating off him in wave. Lust and sick, twisted images assaulted him as Lorne winced and was thrust up and down, cocksucking backwards. He couldn’t control any semblance of dignity with this; choking, hurling noises, whimpers and tears in his eyes. Yes, tears. Not from sadness, oh no, it just kinda hurt a little and he felt like he was going to die form lack of air, even though he didn’t even need it. It was a weird choking. He remembered once, as now The Hitcher was twisting him around in a corkscrew pattern, going ‘oh yes oh ohohoho yes yes yes you filthy green wharf-rat…’ that a few years ago he had this one guy, who had a choking fetish, kept holding unto his neck while he throttled him. It was the rare time Lorn took it up the ass, since he was top but…
With the choking came panic. An instinctual pain and fear, more than he had before. It was odd, and frightening, and exhilarating. Here he was eyes shut taking up his mouth backwards, brain rattling in his skull while he gurgled and unable to stop anything. Worse the man doing this to him even noticed. The large thumbs caressed and wiped his painful-tears away. Now Lorne added another word to describe this situation; humiliating.
“Demon tears. Hah…huhh….oh boy…you’re good…a gooood little head aren’t ya, aren’t you you bender?”
My brain hurts my throat hurts my eyes hurt ahh AHH “Hrrummpfh! Unnngh!” He cried. Stop it stop it ahh! OW! OH ANTICHRIST! MAKE IT STOP! “UMMRRRGH! UUUUHGN!”
The Hitcher laughed and came, staring blue-to-red. Cum spurted out of Lorne’s strained open jaw, strained because he was trying to scream. It was salty, as jizz usually tastes, and his mouth was frothing it. The thrusting stopped, the manhood slowly throbbing now, keeping his throat recoiling and irritated from the length buried in it. Now he could breathe a little easier, aware that his mouth looked like rabies in pudding, bubbling a bit.
“…urmpgh…ung…ung…ung…ung…” Hope you’re fucking happy you freak. I’m having trouble trying to stop crying.
“Ahhhh…” His eyes closed he sagged, pulling the gasping head off his little monster. His jeans were splattered with the gulped-down jizzum, once Lorne was coughing and spitting in his lap. He didn’t care, though; he got an amazing stump-fuck, and he had a washing machine anyways.
“That was amazing, boy.” Opening his eyes he started to affectionately pet the sweaty, cum-lipped Lorne. “Bet that was a bad time fer you, wasn’t it lad?”
“You make me sick.”
“You loved it. Even if you were cryin’ like a wimp. I wonder if I should start spreadin’ it around, ‘FAMOUS SINGER CRIES DURING BJ’, it’ll be all over the papers!”
Lorne didn’t feel like joking. He felt violated. Pulverized. Actually, raped. and his throat was burning.
“Deal’s a deal boy. I know just the trick to get your head attached. Then you’ll be off. And I can meet you again some other…night.”
Staring at him he felt fear again. It was a weird fear, and now he was understanding it, probably something masochistically-related. He hadn’t fully felt it this intense before. Unfortunately he was blushing again, just thinking about. But it could do with less backwards sucking.
Smug, The Hitcher chuckled again, enjoying how the head looked; sweaty, panting, covered with white spunk frothing about, dripping blood from dick and stump from the spongy-confines that so caressed him, and the pretty chap probably sexually confused as Hell right now.
Lorne glowered, still panting but now snuffling through his nose. With a sneeze a gob of bloody cum-snot oozed out. Disgusting…I need a shower.
A cold one.
Warnings: Detailed forced blowjobs, backwards blowjobs, gore, blood, two green men.
Fandoms: The Mighty Boosh/Angel
Summary: Lorne gives The Hitcher one hell of a surprise, caught in the act of stump fucking his throat. Detailed skull-rape ensues. ;D
-----
“Hey hey hey hey HEY! Eaaasy on the suit!”
The Hitcher smirked though he was still quite angry. “We’ll see you posh bastard.”
“Listen buddy, I told you the side effects of that spell…”
“You didn’t tell me it would give a man PURPLE FEET!”
Laughing Lorne rolled his eyes, shoved against the wall of his client’s modest castle.
“I’m sorry boy, but your times are up. I have no use for a being who’ll give me purple wolf cankers now hmm?”
“Riiight.”
Laughing he pulled out a knife, bringing it against Lorne’s exposed throat.
“Now now, honestly don’t be hasty…! Purple and green are a fantastic color combination…”
“But, I’ve still got use fer you yet you slag.”
“Why don’t you put the knife away, haha, you know…”
“Goodnight, fag.”
--
Lorne’s headless body was bleeding in a heap on the rug. Course the man-witch was too horny to even think about cleaning it up.
“Bloody wanker…worry about his suit did he? OooOohoho if only he could see the stains now, he’s probably piss himself with fright! “Ooh, gotta get to dry cleaning! I’ve got a shoooow to do!”
Laughing he licked his blade clean…spitting out the demon blood, the bitterness quite a turn off. Course, the head was what he was mainly after. He rather liked the demon; green as he was, obviously aligned with the more darker side of things. And quite a face; cheek bones and horns. IT would make an excellent addition to his head collection once he pickled it.
But first…
His thumb caressed and pushed at the flaccid cheeks, feeling the cheekbone, the limp jaw. the mouth was freshly wet and he pulled the jaw open, smirking at the challenge of the sharp teeth.
“Guess I’ll be puttin’ in the other end.”
Whistling a happy tune he put the unfortunate head to his face, giving the skin a lick. He was already moaning a little, tasting the interesting feature of the small horns. Hmmm, oh yes, horny little slut he was the villain thought. The hair was slick with product though, but it smelled like juniper and fireplace.
“Mmm…makes me think of Elsies…” Burying his thick nose in the hair he took a whiff.
“Gotta rape demons more often, I think!”
The Hitcher was in the privacy of his own home, free to talk aloud, free to make out with a beheaded green monster-man. His tongue darted around the sharp teeth.
“Shame…” Panting he sucked a bit on the deviously-pointy nose, his left hand kneading the front of his pants. “…probably should have kept him alive. Would have been a good fuck…”
Growling he spat, the canine tooth almost cutting his tongue when he went back to enthusiastically Frenching the dead mouth.
“Probably better dead, if he’s still got a bit of bite with him yet!”
With a raspy laugh he unzipped himself. He was surprised how much the chap aroused him, but he could see why; the closet thing to himself, save for the flamboyant part. But, too late now since he’s dead. Panting slightly he eyed the limp body’s pert little ass laying in the dark blood puddle.
“Mmm…get to that later…Now…”
The wrinkled green fingers squished and squirmed into the muscle of the neck-stump, finding the tube for the devil’s esophagus. He even shivered a little where he stood, just anticipating the wet, bloody feel of a head around his cock…
“Oh…oh yes…you dirty fucker…bet you sucked a lot of cock with THIS!” Sniggering he smeared his dick against the interesting texture of the demon’s face, drooling. “Wonder if there was a vampire in there? Hmm? Well this’ll be the biggest one you’ve sucked ye-“
“Oh hellllooooooooo!”
“OOHOH MARY!”
Jerking he fell back, flopped in his arm chair. The head dropped, bounced once on the floor and, unfortunately for The Hitcher’s wide-eyes, facing him.
“….hmm…” Lorne blinked, licking his lips and the inside of his mouth. “I say, were you….oh.”
The Hitcher said nothing, too creeped out in the moment to wipe the sweat from his brow. Staring.
“Ahhh.” With a twinkle in his eye Lorne grinned, flexing his jaw. “You taste like brandy. And urine.”
“You…you DEMONS!”
“Yes, well. That’s Anagogic Demons, for you. I’d shrug if my shoulders were still attached, but it seems that they’re still lying on the floor over there, with the rest of me…”
“Fuck…fuck you. You…!”
“Hey hey heeeeey you’re the one who likes me! Funny I never picked up on it! What an odd way to figure that out…eww…you licked my horns didn’t you?”
Coughing he finally did wipe the sweat, sitting up and adjusting his clothes. “What if I did? You’re the one all beheaded and what-not. I’m evil, and I’ll do what I want with you.”
“Even making out with me like a horny teenager?”
“…shut your pie-hole.”
Looking down Lorne also saw something else peeking from under the witch’s coat.
“And…other things in my mouth as well.”
The Hitcher’s face was a mix of red and green, much like a Christmas tree. He didn’t know whether to be completely angry…or aroused. Or both.
Plans were hatching in his head like pigeon eggs.
“I don’t mind, you could have asked! Well, I would have said no, I don’t know how safe you are but…”
Grunting The Hitcher walked over, setting his boot on the demon’s temple, pressing. Snarling he contemplated ending this little fright once and for all.
“What, what are you doing? Don’t you want to be all diabolical and nasty to me? Wasn’t I a good enough kisser when I was dead?” Lorne nervously laughed, exclaiming ‘Oww!’ once pressure was applied.
“Now, Mr. Lorne…” Images of blood spurting, melted brains, crushed skull filled his eyes as he looked for fear in the head’s red gaze. “Why should I keep you alive, er, alive-kinda, hmm?”
Gulping (which caused a splurt of blood to ooze from around the hacked spinal choard) Lorne himself had a few ideas as well.
“If you don’t crush me…I’ll…ah…ah…”
“You’ll what?”
“I’ll preform favors.”
My what a bleeding faggot, nonsense pansy-ass pig-sniffing… “Why and how? You’ve stunted me boner boy! I’m not in the mood anymore for trifle coupling’s tonight!”
“I sense otherwise, sir.”
Lorne struggled not to smirk. He could feel how aroused he was. He picked up immediately even how this man, who looked well-angry, was getting off on dominating him. The twitch of the boot digging into his head, the dirty words he heard when he was waking-up, the rough pushes and threats and gay slanders…oh, he knew alright. And if he played it right well, he can get out of here. With head and body.
“What didja call me, squire?”
“Sir, please…spare a worthless…demon. I’ll even take it up the throat, if you like.”
He tried not to stammer and puppy-dog his eyes too much; if he did his game would be up. Luckily for Lorne The Hitcher was not that smart, due to the rising size of his, ah, ‘eel’ and the changing expression on the old geeza’s face. There was no doubt to Lorne how powerful this witch was, but the old man’s emind seems to be governed by his penis and his bladder, and tonight it was his penis.
“Oh, really?”
“And free drinks at the club! F-forever! If you reattach me, then I can…ah…do these things more often I suppose…”
“Suppose? That’s not good enough for me, songbird.” He stooped and picked him up, gripping Lorne’s hair a bit painfully. Wincing Lorne gulped again, starting to feel a little funny about this. Funny in his pants. Which he didn’t even have.
“Okay okay! Friends with benefits?”
“Skip the friend part and go right to fuck.”
“My you reaaaally want me…”
“Stick a cock in it queer.”
With that The HItcher ravenously kissed him. Tongue, teeth, chewing the plush red lips of the demon. His eyes were narrow, watching and feeding off of Lorne’s reaction. Lorne was surprised, having trouble kissing back. He uttered some soft noises and another ‘ow!’ once his lip was bitten by flat Cockney chompers. But he had to give in; he was starting to like this. How rough and weird this sex was going to be, being violated so dominantly by a ratty-haired English magic-man.
Grinning with triumph he went back to his chair, sitting down with legs spread and plopping the head in his lap. Now he was face-to-face with it; a massive, green phallus, thick and pulsing. He couldn’t remember if it was bigger than his other lovers, but he was having trouble thinking right now.
I feel delirious. Is this really happening? Man am I a whore or what…I actually WANT this.
The Hitcher also noticed that Lorne’s flushed, staring face wasn’t faking. Now that he got over the surprise of the actual head being a live, he intended to use his new part-time pine-flavored slut for all its worth. Holding him by the hair with one hand, the other angling his erection he pressed it against the devil’s mouth.
“One bite and I’ll put it in the ear you he-OH.”
Lorne got right to it. It was truly exhilarating, even though his heartbeat was actually thumping over yonder, on the carpet. Sucking he tongued the tip, trying to go down but, remembering the lack of body, couldn’t. The Hitcher being rough as he was started to grunt and jackhammer the head up and down, up and down at a moderate pace. Lorne was having trouble keeping up, shutting his eyes and trying not to cut the throbbing flesh in mouth and throat. Up, down, up, down…saliva and blood, his mouth stuffed and cheeks bulging as he sucked.
“Mphrfgh…big…”
Sweet Satan…! He thought, making wet sounds and even whimpers. No control…come on not so hard! “Horrgk!”
The Hitcher was getting amused as well as hard. Laughing low he watched as he twisted the head around, milking himself with the tight constricting vice of the sucking throat, Lorne’s eyes bulging and the lips shift into multiple expressions.
“Gurgh! Mporhrgh! Mphfggh cut it ou-uurhffff t man!”
He didn’t fail to notice the blush on Lorne’s cheeks as well.
“You’re getting off on this mate.” Hitcher moaned, slouching more comfortably in his chair. Now he held the head with both hands, slowing him down to ‘Mmmmm!’ and savor it. Lorne was gasping around the dick, his whole lips and the tip of his nose wet with pre-cum and saliva. Unable to wipe it off.
“Mmmrgh mprhf, mrhgfhg!” You…dammit he’s right. Shutting his eyes he wished he could alleviate this familiar tightness and aching he was having, but it was only nerve-memory since his dick was currently misplaced. Gasping he wheezed and moaned once The Hitcher decided for some mercy, hanging him by his hair. Tingling his scalp.
“You are. Your corpse is twitchin’ with a boner.”
“N-no it isn’t! Gah…uh…bibbbblleee…” Drool was freely dripping from his mouth, normally he was far more clean at this but the back of his throat was hurting and his mouth had lost control.
“You liiiike being a helpless horny cocksucker. I can tell. Just lookatcha!”
The Hitcher turned his head to see his corpse, which was laying on its side. Twitching, undulating its hips about. But then it flopped over, full-frontal into the pile of blood once The Hitcher stroked his ears.
“…ahhhhhhhnnnnn!” Lorne quickly shut himself up. Blinking he hadn’t recalled moaning that loud in his life, without jizzing that is.The corpse thumped a few times, humping the ground.
“You dirty old man…” Spitting he glared at his horny new master, who continued playing with his ears.
“I’ll never get tired of rapin’ helpless blokes like you. Ya think you’re on top of the world all nasty and evil till you’re brought back down like the bitches you are.”
Lorne couldn’t respond in the moment. He was still heavily breathing, and the cock was still waiting.
“But you were not nice to me with your spells. So.”
“URRRK!”
He had no time to prepare: the edge of his throat, rudely cut in half hurt as The Hitcher forced his cock up through the throat. He could feel the head, thrumming at the roof of his mouth, once completely impaled inside. Gasping and choking it was feeling more unusual than anything, mouth open and gasping unable to lick, touch, nothing. Just his throat.
“Having fun?”
“Urk…Guh…guh…”
“Just as I thought. A yes.”
Lorne felt how utterly aroused this man was. It was radiating off him in wave. Lust and sick, twisted images assaulted him as Lorne winced and was thrust up and down, cocksucking backwards. He couldn’t control any semblance of dignity with this; choking, hurling noises, whimpers and tears in his eyes. Yes, tears. Not from sadness, oh no, it just kinda hurt a little and he felt like he was going to die form lack of air, even though he didn’t even need it. It was a weird choking. He remembered once, as now The Hitcher was twisting him around in a corkscrew pattern, going ‘oh yes oh ohohoho yes yes yes you filthy green wharf-rat…’ that a few years ago he had this one guy, who had a choking fetish, kept holding unto his neck while he throttled him. It was the rare time Lorn took it up the ass, since he was top but…
With the choking came panic. An instinctual pain and fear, more than he had before. It was odd, and frightening, and exhilarating. Here he was eyes shut taking up his mouth backwards, brain rattling in his skull while he gurgled and unable to stop anything. Worse the man doing this to him even noticed. The large thumbs caressed and wiped his painful-tears away. Now Lorne added another word to describe this situation; humiliating.
“Demon tears. Hah…huhh….oh boy…you’re good…a gooood little head aren’t ya, aren’t you you bender?”
My brain hurts my throat hurts my eyes hurt ahh AHH “Hrrummpfh! Unnngh!” He cried. Stop it stop it ahh! OW! OH ANTICHRIST! MAKE IT STOP! “UMMRRRGH! UUUUHGN!”
The Hitcher laughed and came, staring blue-to-red. Cum spurted out of Lorne’s strained open jaw, strained because he was trying to scream. It was salty, as jizz usually tastes, and his mouth was frothing it. The thrusting stopped, the manhood slowly throbbing now, keeping his throat recoiling and irritated from the length buried in it. Now he could breathe a little easier, aware that his mouth looked like rabies in pudding, bubbling a bit.
“…urmpgh…ung…ung…ung…ung…” Hope you’re fucking happy you freak. I’m having trouble trying to stop crying.
“Ahhhh…” His eyes closed he sagged, pulling the gasping head off his little monster. His jeans were splattered with the gulped-down jizzum, once Lorne was coughing and spitting in his lap. He didn’t care, though; he got an amazing stump-fuck, and he had a washing machine anyways.
“That was amazing, boy.” Opening his eyes he started to affectionately pet the sweaty, cum-lipped Lorne. “Bet that was a bad time fer you, wasn’t it lad?”
“You make me sick.”
“You loved it. Even if you were cryin’ like a wimp. I wonder if I should start spreadin’ it around, ‘FAMOUS SINGER CRIES DURING BJ’, it’ll be all over the papers!”
Lorne didn’t feel like joking. He felt violated. Pulverized. Actually, raped. and his throat was burning.
“Deal’s a deal boy. I know just the trick to get your head attached. Then you’ll be off. And I can meet you again some other…night.”
Staring at him he felt fear again. It was a weird fear, and now he was understanding it, probably something masochistically-related. He hadn’t fully felt it this intense before. Unfortunately he was blushing again, just thinking about. But it could do with less backwards sucking.
Smug, The Hitcher chuckled again, enjoying how the head looked; sweaty, panting, covered with white spunk frothing about, dripping blood from dick and stump from the spongy-confines that so caressed him, and the pretty chap probably sexually confused as Hell right now.
Lorne glowered, still panting but now snuffling through his nose. With a sneeze a gob of bloody cum-snot oozed out. Disgusting…I need a shower.
A cold one.