Category: The Mighty Boosh
Pairing: Howard Moon/Vince Noir
Length: 1-5k words
Notes: WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS REALLY GRAPHIC RAPE AND VIOLENCE.
Please don’t read this if you think it’s going to disturb you unacceptably.
Writen for blue_boosh for the prompt: I reaaalllllyy want some Hitcher/Vince rapefic. With The Hitcher making Howard watch. Howard finding it really hot, but not wanting to. AND the Hitcher will make Howard fuck Vince after he’s done. PLEASE :]
Saying No by accioarse
Green from the counter top lit Vince’s open mouth, his flailing arms, and his piss-streamed hair. He’d been squashed face down on top of the shop counter, his jumpsuit was stripped down to his knees, and he was screaming.
And Howard watched his best friend being raped.
The Hitcher had wrenched his trousers open at the fly, and pulled out a massive green cock. Then he’d shoved it right into Howard’s best friend, grunting and cursing without stop.
And the longer it had gone on, the more painfully hard Howard had become.
Only minutes ago, a knife had pushed at Howard’s throat. Then Howard had fell down on his knees, begging, pleading, till snot had streamed in blobs across his face. He’d offered to do anything, if only he could live. The Hitcher had spat at him, right in his face. Called him a skank with a cunt for a dick. A lily-livered worm.
He’d turned away, grinning over at Vince, and Howard had shaken so hard he’d thought he’d melt. There’d been great big spasms it, running up and down his body with relief. Hot and cold waves, almost like coming.
So the Hitcher had walked around Vince, yellow teeth bared, and sized the little man up. He’d ruffled Vince’s hair, pulled back his neckline, teased the bare nipples with his shiny black cane. “And what do we have here? A lovely little bitch boy? In a shiny red playsuit?”
“I ain’t your bitch, mate – ow! Gerroff, you ugly green freak!”
But The Hitcher had cackled. “Oh no, my son. I think you’ll find that you are. Now bend over, like a good little boy.”
And that’s when it had all started.
With a screeching bellow, The Hitcher came.
The body below him went limp. After all, there was no point in struggling now. The deed had been done.
The Hitcher pulled his cock out. There was a slurp, the sound of old man’s sperm and the oily green stuff he’d used to coat his dick. He tucked himself back in, then spun around on his heel. He clocked Howard, cackled at the bulge at Howard’s crotch. He winked and slapped Vince’s cheeks, sharp enough to leave a palmprint. “Your turn now, squire. Go on. Get yourself some of that sweet tight hole. I’ve warmed it up and everyfing.“
Tearstained, Vince turned round in horror. His mouth formed the words without speaking, “Howard. No. Please, no.”
But Howard had caught sight of something else. As he’d turned, Vince had revealed his own hardness, pushing firmly against the counter underneath.
Vince was still mouthing no, with silent tears streaming, but now Howard was undoing the buckle on his belt.
“Good lad! I see I don’t got to persuade you! That’s right! Tight little fuck, he was!” The Hitcher grinned as he resheathed his knife.
‘A tight little fuck’ – and that meant Vince. Howard froze. His fingers seemed stuck on the leather of his belt.
“Or it seems you going to disappoint me after all?” The sound of sharp metal sliced the air.
The Hitcher leapt, quick as breathing. He grabbed at Howard from behind. The cold edge pushed Howard’s throat as a rancid stink rose between them. It was the same smell from before, when The Hitcher had uncorked his bottle of oily swirling green, and massaged it, groaning, all over his length.
“Well, my son. Here’s what you’re going to do. First you’re going to tell him the treat in store. You say – I’m gonna bugger you – what’s his name?”
“Vince,” gasped Howard, gulping against the knife.
“Well, here’s you say – I’m gonna bugger you. Right up inside your tight little arse, with my cock, oh yes, my little Vincey boy.”
Howard repeated, his voice half-hoarse. “I’m going to bugger you…”
“Right up inside your ar…”
“Your tight little arse…”
“Up your tight little arse…”
“With my cock… my little Vincey boy.”
“And I’ll be watching, so make sure to fuck him nice and hard. I’ve had him, and I could tell. The harder you go the better he likes it.”
Face down against the counter, Vince began to sob.
An angry line cut the white of Vince’s back, seeping in places to blood. It marked where The Hitcher had forced the flat of his knife down, keeping Vince immobile while he fucked him. Howard put a finger just above the line, hardly touching. Then he reached up and held Vince’s shoulder. Vince was cold and shaking. “I’m sorry.”
Vince turned his face to Howard. His eyes were big and liquid. His mouth opened in a silent plea.
Howard touched Vince’s face, and silver tears clung to his fingertips. “Don’t worry, Vince. It’ll be alright.” Behind Howard, a knifepoint jabbed. Howard positioned his cock and shoved it hard into Vince.
Vince choked, “No! Howard, no!”
Howard thrust again. He reached round Vince, and what found what he was looking for. Yes. He’d been right. Vince was protesting, but he was also still hard. Howard gave a groan.
“No!” cried Vince, trying to wriggle free. His voice caught as Howard slammed him down again. “Howard, help…”
But there was no way that Vince was going to struggle free. Howard was bigger, he was heavier, and by now he was determined to have his way.
The Hitcher stood, arms folded, as he watched Vince be thoroughly fucked for the second time that night. He sneered his upper lip, and revealed a row of decaying teeth. “You’re scum, you are. You filthy bum boys. The lot of you disgust me.”
Howard hardly heard him. He was sunk deep in Vince’s heat.
“But you’re lucky. On my way here today, there was a kitten in a basket. It looked up at me with its brown eyes, and they were two little pools of love. Then it waved its little paw at me. It went miaow.”
Vince grabbed the side of the counter, shouting in pain. Howard had speeded up, and was ramming his arse even harder.
“I’d have killed for that kitty. I did kill for it. I killed a swan. So you’re lucky today, you bleeding benders. Next time, you might not be so lucky. Next time, I’ll slice your bleeding toes off.” And with a clang of the doorbell, The Hitcher swished out of the shop and was gone.
“Stop, Howard! You can stop now! He’s gone! It’s over!” Vince frantically pushed up from the counter, trying to escape.
But Howard wasn’t listening. He was incredibly close now, so near it pounded in his blood. All it would take was a few more thrusts. And Vince felt so good, so tight around him. Like he was pulling his orgasm deep from within.
Tightening all over, with a massive shudder, Howard felt himself come.
Afterwaves were running over, heating his skin, flushing him with tingles, even as Howard opened his eyes. Immediately he realised the enormity of what he’d done. He pulled out. “Oh my God! Vince! You know I didn’t… ”
At last free, Vince scrambled away, trying to run. But blind with tears and half-hobbled by his jumpsuit, he tripped and fell, eventually falling to a crawl. He made it to a dark corner and curled up in a ball, sobbing.
Howard fastened his trousers, stunned. “I’m so sorry Vince… you wouldn’t believe… how sorry… I should just go.”
In between gulps of tears, Vince lifted up his head. “No! Don’t! He might come back! Don’t leave me here alone!”
“Oh, right. Yeah. You’re right.” Howard paced to the door, and looked out nervously. From the corner, Vince’s wails filled the room. Howard walked about a bit, here, then there.
Vince let out a few more painful sobs. He whispered to Howard, “Hold me.”
Howard backed up, as far away as possible. “No…”
Vince dipped his head into his skinny bare chest. He spoke again, more firmly this time. “Howard. I need you. Please.”
“Vince. No. What I did… You just don’t get it.” Howard edged back further. By now he’d reached the entrance up to the flat.
Vince almost screamed. “No! You’re not allowed to run away! You can’t! You kept on doing it to me! Even after he’d gone! You kept on doing it!”
Howard froze, one foot on the stairs.
Vince stood up, naked except for the jumpsuit tangled red around his boots. He sobbed at Howard, “Was it all my fault? Howard? Was it? Tell me, did I make you do it?”
Howard stepped forward, appalled. “Vince! How can you say that? Of course you didn’t!”
Vince gripped his fists. He tilted up his chin. The shop’s dim light caught his cock, and it was semi-erect. “Then how come I’m still like this?”
Howard knew he should say something. Tell Vince that he’d been just the same, and he’d only been watching.
“I didn’t want it, I swear. All the time, I hated it, I really did.” Vince’s voice broke. “Please…”
Unbuttoning his shirt, Howard came forward. He tried to cover Vince’s nakedness, but Vince batted his shirt to the side.
Vince grabbed at Howard’s wrist, guiding him down to his erection. “Please. Make it go away.”
Howard snatched his hand back. “God, Vince, no! I can’t!”
“You have to do it, and anything I say. Because you f…fucked me. You did. You fucked me, and you wouldn’t stop doing it. So now you have to do this.” Again, Vince grabbed at Howard’s hand.
This time, slowly, Howard let his hand be forced. He closed his fingers round Vince’s cock. It felt boiling hot, and it twitched beneath his touch.
Vince’s forehead fell to Howard’s shoulder. “Yes!” He started to thrust through Howard’s fingers.
Howard began to move his hand and Vince’s cock sprung even harder in his grip. Howard sped up even more. He wanted it over and done with now, this whole crazy nightmare. He wanted it all done. Cradling one hand beneath Vince’s balls, he touched Vince the way he liked it done himself, the way he’d found most efficient, pulling on the cock and jerking fast and furtive.
Vince’s balls tightened. He began to pant and keen. His forehead sweat pressed to Howard as he spasmed. Howard didn’t stop until Vince was completely spent.
“I think I’m evil. That must be it. I’m actually pure liquid evil.”
“What are you now? Evil?”
“But how could I have… unless I’m evil? Vince? What do you think? Am I evil?”
“Howard! Shut the fuck up! Who cares? I’m the one who just got raped! Remember?” Vince nestled harder against Howard’s chest.
“But that just proves it.”
Vince closed his eyes. He held onto Howard all the tighter. “Okay. But can we stop talking about it? Please? Remembering makes me feel like I’m gonna puke.”
“Christ, I’m sorry.” Howard shifted. He reached round Vince’s skinny little body, and pulled the blanket higher around his shoulders. They were sitting in the lounge, with the electric fire turned up to high. “I just don’t know how I…”
“Howard! No more! Didn’t I just say no?”
“Sorry. Yes.” The image came back of Vince, pushed face down on the green shop counter. “Yes, you did. Say no.”
A muscle danced, jumping between Vince’s eyebrows. Howard itched to reach out with his thumb. He wanted to stroke it down, to make everything smooth again. But he didn’t.
Instead, Howard put an arm up, about to pull Vince in close. But he didn’t make it. He nearly gagged. The Hitcher’s smell was all over Vince, the urine soaking through Vince’s hair. And lodged inside Vince, there was The Hitcher’s sperm, mingled foully with his own. Turning his face to the side, Howard patted Vince on the shoulder. He made sure to keep the thickness of the blanket between them.
“Shhh, Vince. It’s going to be alright.”
Their eyes met. Both of them could remember when Howard had promised the very same thing, not so long ago.
Vince looked away first. “Howard? Is it going to be alright? Is it really?”
Vince snuggled up into Howard’s chest, not noticing how Howard pulled away. “Anyway, we’re still friends. And we’ll always be. Won’t we be, Howard? Aren’t we?”
Howard patted Vince again through the blanket. He wished with all his heart that he could just say yes.