Maybe slave Reinhardt is sold to either a) unruly Deadlock outlaws looking to lasso a big boy or b) the Shimada clan. I kind of favor the first, if only for the goofy accents and possibility of them razzing young McCree into his first sexual experience so tied up Reinhardt kind of has to coax and comfort him through it while being thoroughly covered in roughneck semen. Americans are so exuberant and rude, Cyber!

The first time Reinhardt had ‘met’ McCree had been his very first night at his new home, bend over the saddle of a large, dusty motorcycle and getting his hole spread on a thick cock that made him suck in his belly from the sudden burn of it, and yet cant out his ass for more.

“Yo, McCree! You’re just right. Lookit what we found.”

Reinhardt swings his head around and peeks above the swell of one bicep towards the entrance where one of his new masters has slung his arm jovially around the shoulders of another member of their gang – the kid looking like he is not older than 16 or 17.

His eyes are shining bright beneath the wide brim of his head, mouth hanging open just a little; soft and inviting. Reinhardt thought he might be staring at the gleaming slave collar around his throat – his pride and joy; he kept it meticulously clean – but it was impossible to tell for sure.

“Ever seen anything like it?”

“Uh…” the kid – McCree – says and lets himself get pulled closer towards the action, his big hands hanging lax at his sides. There’s a large revolver around his coltish, slim hips but he looks just young and vulnerable as he stares, watching as the other man fucks Reinhardt in unhurried slow strokes, ignoring the other two members of the gang.

He has his hands on Reinhardt’s ass, pulling the cheeks apart to watch himself disappear.

“Pretty furry,” he’s mumbling and thumbing through the crisp hair surrounding his dick. “Can hardly see a thing. Gonna have to shave ya.”

Reinhardt doesn’t say anything. He lets his head hang back down, sweat gathering on his brow. He can’t focus on the kid when he’s getting fucked and has to take care not to topple the machine over.

Still, he arches his back a little more, ass pushing up obediently into the leisurely thrusts just to make up for the other issue.

“Eh? Ever seen somethin’ like it?” the other man repeats. He sounds cautiously giddy. Like he is trying really hard not to laugh.

“No…”

“The slave or the fuckin’?” Another man roars from the other side of the bay now, and promptly the area erupts into bawdy laughter.

Reinhardt can’t hear the reply – or if there is any. The warmth from the fucking is starting to spread out into his extremities and tingling in his toes. His cock feels stupidly tender and eager. It’s been a while since he’s been fucked last, and even longer since he was given release. He bites the tip of his tongue first and then, when it doesn’t help, sinks teeth into his own biceps as the man behind him picks up speed and starts to rail him.

“Eh? You mean the slave or the fuckin’?” the first man wants to know now.

“I’ve never seen a slave that big,” McCree finally says. He takes the laughter in good stride, his cheeks cherry red and his slacks when Reinhardt glances over, tented over his eager, young cock.

It’s only a half-truth – everybody knows it, but they slap his back and let him flee anyway.

Reinhardt wonders how long it’ll take until the kid will come to him.

.o.

McCree likes to hover around awkwardly when Reinhardt gets fucked. He rarely is there when it starts but somehow, without a fail, migrates into whichever room the slave is getting dicked.

Reinhardt is a good boy – he’s old enough to have stopped being a rebellious shithead – and his collar is good as obsolete for punishments but his new masters like to shock him even so.

Sometimes they make him hold the little remote between his teeth as he’s getting fucked because they like it when his eyes are wide in trepidation and his body shakes in fear as he tries not to bite down too hard as to not shock himself – made all the harder by thick cocks relentlessly pressing against his prostate.

Reinhardt isn’t always in a state to actively notice his surroundings after his masters are done having fun with him, but whenever he’ll look around, he’ll see the kid standing to the side, cheeks brick red and eyes eager and shiny.

“He’s from Germany, McCree,” one or the other would call over every now and then, fucking into the slave with single minded intent and tugging mean and sharp at his chest hair. “They know how to train a proper slave over there, let me tell you. Fuck. Can take a cock any day of the week like a goddamn fuckin’ champ.”

.o.

It’s not entirely of his own will when McCree finally fucks him. He gets ribbed and teased and outright bullied into it by the other members of the gang, but in Reinhardt’s opinion he doesn’t look too put upon by it – in fact, he looks downright eager, if kind of scared shitless.

His hips are quick and nervous, pumping even before Reinhardt’s large fingers have started peeling his young, sleek cock out of his underwear. The fabric feels warm and tacky against his fingertips. Aaah, the eagerness of youth.

“Shhh,” Reinhardt rumbles, an easy grin on his face. He’s stretched out on a billiard table, massive thighs dwarfing the slim hips of the tall kid. McCree is still wearing his hat. It’s sitting askew on his head, the string loose around his throat. It only takes Reinhardt to close lovingly close his fingers around his young master’s cock to get him to jack-knife forward and his hat to tumble down, hanging between his shoulder blades, the chord tight but not restricting around his throat.

The crew around them snickers but Reinhardt thinks McCree doesn’t even hear them anymore. His gaze looks feverish and intent, his hands skimming nervously across the thick ridges of muscle on the slave’s belly, up into the thick chest hair. He palms Reinhardt’s pecs like they’re the tits of a lady and the slave squeezes his leaking cock with fondness, fingertips sliding farther down to the soft sac beneath.

The kid is a sweet one, still. Romantic.

Even so, he is curious – fingertips sliding beneath the metal of Reinhardt’s slave collar. Testing the give and feel of it. He looks once into Reinhardt’s face – a short, shy little glance before he stares down and takes his cock into his hands.

“Need both hands, eh, boy? He’s a big one,” one of the onlookers calls, and McCree – he just nods, earnest and focused on his fists and the way he squeezes the slave’s large, heavy dick in them.

Yes… this one was still sweet.

Reinhardt rumbles low. Lets him know that he appreciates the effort even as he coaxes him closer with the grip he has on the young master’s cock.

McCree, when his dick sniffs its first, willing body – warm and soft and eager to accept – lurches forward. His hands let go of Reinhardt’s cock and it slaps heavy and a little painful against his abs as McCree clamps shivering fingers around his sturdy hips.

His head hangs low, back bowing until his forehead nearly touches Reinhardt’s chest.

He can feel that pretty, young cock inside him; flexing eagerly. Pulsing against the velvety tight grip of his rim.

McCree’s voice has become high and almost whiny. He’s already a second from coming and everybody knows – the others around are laughing and slapping their thighs. (The kid jerks suddenly and Reinhardt thinks someone must have slapped his ass as well.)

Reinhardt is cooing low and soothing, large hands rubbing up and down McCree’s arms. He feels strangely fond of the young man, and holds obediently still; tries to allow him to calm down enough to fuck him at least a little.

“You feel so good,” he purrs in a low rumble, large hands holding McCree’s hips, fingers kneading into the lean, small ass. The kid was too thin – there wasn’t much nutrition to be had within the gang. “Good boy…”

McCree makes a strangled sound at that, head snapping up and staring at the slave with an intention that makes Reinhardt shudder hard enough to clench down on the sleek, eager cock.

He is surprised when McCree does move, after all, fingers digging into the slave’s skin as he starts to work his hips in sharp, piston like movements that make Reinhardt see stars as his prostate gets rubbed almost brutishly.

He wonders how often McCree has fantasized about this very moment: of fucking the big, good natured slave within an inch of his life. Leave the large man a shivering, jerking mess on the table, fucked out and useless.

McCree would not manage it today – but Reinhardt could only shudder helplessly thinking about the future to come now that the dam was broken and McCree would have the guts to fuck him.

little something for @kirinlust gosh darn hot Reinzo pic. unnnf

be aware that it has humiliation and small dicks in it because everybody is small next to Reinhardt.

Hanzo was so very easy. Not only on the eyes but also – especially, even – to rile up.

“Look at it,” Reinhardt coos against the archer’s puffy lips, letting him press feverish kisses against the corner of his mouth as he talks. Hanzo’s hips jerk.

“It looks so cute… just look at it.”

Hanzo groans, eyes clenched tightly shut. He stops with the messy, wet kisses and pushes his hot face into the vulnerable space beneath Reinhardt’s chin.

Reinhardt grins and lets him for a second or two, before he cups the back of his neck with one large hand and pulls him back.

“Look at it,” he demands, voice gentle yet insistent. They’re both red-faced; flushed in excitement and embarrassment as Hanzo dutifully dips his chin low and peeks between their bodies; his cock pressed against Reinhardt looks ridiculously small. Almost boyish.

He groans low and throaty. As they watch, it flexes eagerly, a string of pre-cum dangling from the tip.

“So cute,” Reinhardt purrs, one large finger stroking along the shaft and to the flushed, blunt tip of it. Hanzo gurgles something unintelligible, hips jerking back from the light contact.

Yes – the archer was so very easy. Always on such a hair trigger – always so ready to come at the slightest provocation, no matter how often Reinhardt played with him.

“How do you want to do this?” Reinhardt murmurs, still holding Hanzo like a kitten, forcing him to look at their cocks so close together, the other arm lifting to shove behind his head. He is stretched out and lazy – a lion that is more than willing to let the other one play.

“I want to…” Hanzo licks his lips. His dark eyes locked on the sight between their bodies. He moves, knee-walks just a little further up until he can watch his tip next to Reinhardt’s. How humiliatingly small it looked next to it. “I want to fuck you.”

Reinhardt perks up, grin stretching imperceptibly.

“Oh you want that, don’t you? You want to fuck me with your sweet little cock, Schätzchen?” Hanzo looks almost weepy as he nods, eyes suspiciously wet and mouth set in a stern, straight line. His cock jerks and drools another line of pre-cum that connects their dicks for a moment before it snaps.

“You think you can make me feel it?” he rasps, voice going a little darker – a bit mean as he lets go of Hanzo to reach down and covers the small cock with his huge hand. “Think you can make me feel your cute little cocklett?”

Hanzo hiccups out a sob, hiding his face behind one arm, his ears hot and burning. Oh how the Shimada heir loves being ridiculed like this. Loves and hates it.

Reinhardt rolls his hips up, making Hanzo scrabble to steady himself with palms against the broad barrel chest, fingers digging into the hair there. He’s staring at Reinhardt like a deer caught in the headlights.

“We can do that. Oh, we can do that.”

.o.

Reinhardt can’t help the indulgent grin – not with Hanzo hugging his thigh towards him with both arms curled around it, eyes scrunched shut in concentration as he so obviously tries not to come too fast.

He looks sweet – so desperate as he fucks with quick, uneducated jerks of his hips, Rabbit fucking into the warm, silky space Reinhardt gave over to him more than generously.

He’d sat there with a glassy gaze as he’d watched Reinhardt prepare himself, one hand around his cock, nearly strangling it and trying not to come before he hadn’t had a taste of it.

“So good,” Reinhardt rasps, belly clenched tight, cock smearing the wet tip lazily against the bed sheets. “I love your sweet little cock. Feels so good…”

He clenches down around it in emphasis an Hanzo’s eyes snap open, staring at him in blank panic as his hips stutter to a halt for a moment, grinding in deep – as deep as he could.

“Don’t do that!” he croaks, voice rough and high and a little whiny.

Reinhardt smiles indulgently, his cheeks feeling about as hot as Hanzo’s face looks.

Hanzo turns his head, hiding himself against Reinhardt’s knee as he starts fucking again; first slow, little bucks into the clenching heat, then sharper, faster nudges as he regains his momentum.

Reinhardt closes his eyes and lets his head fall back, breathing studiously deep and slow, concentrating on the fucking.

He loved how desperate Hanzo got. How he humped like an animal, fucking quick and needy into Reinhardt because he loved to see how swollen he got him afterwards when he inspected his work; greedy mouth licking his own cum out of his large lover.

Reinhardt sighs, hand inching over to loosely jerk himself as Hanzo rabbit fucks him fast and needy with that cute cock Reinhardt was so in love with.

God, but he tried so hard to give it to him good and proper.

fruits of the very short live-write just now^^ I’m tired so I wonder how it came out lol

heed the tags plz so you won’t wander into something you don’t like

Hanzo makes a soft sound in the back of his throat. It sounds disgusted, and Jesse’s fingers curl into the bedding in response. The archer’s dark eyes flick to the movement, then up to McCree’s dully flushed face.

“You’re ridiculous,” he tells him, voice clipped. He sounds prim even though he’s crouching on the floor between McCree’s legs. “You are so loud-mouthed, I thought…” he is almost muttering at this point, dark eyes trailing back down to the gunslinger’s cock. Jesse’s toes curl in his boots. His wide chest spasms painfully as the breath stutters out of him.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, voice scratchy. Eager. His dark eyes are large and wet and hopeful. “Yeah?”

Hanzo’s fingers squeeze a little tighter around his cock, then loosen again. His hand is broad, covering the sturdy length of Jesse’s shaft – only the flared, blunt tip is peeking out of the fist, and already it is shiny, a little dribble of pre-cum oozing from the slit as the silence stretches and Jesse’s rattling, excited breathing is too loud in the room.

The archer hesitates, fingertips idly dragging along the silky, hot skin; he turns his head minimally to the side, watching Jesse from beneath heavy lids out of the corner of his eyes.

“One would have thought you would be able to put your money where your mouth is… as you Americans would say.”

He squeezes again, and when all he gets is a low, eager groan, he doesn’t hide the feigned moue of distaste thinning his lips as he watches a drop of pre-cum roll down the glans and wetting the edge of his hand.

It only seems to get McCree hotter, his knees jerking apart in a spastic motion that gets his ridiculous belt buckle to clank noisily against the bedframe. His feet are restless, the spurs on his boots as loud as the rest of the boisterous person.

Hanzo lets him jerk and fidget while the excitement brews warm and prickly in his belly. He hadn’t anticipated enjoying this as much as he does.

“Maybe it was to be expected,” he continues, voice still crisp and deep; sounding unaffected from the proceedings and the dishevelment of the other man. “There is a saying about overcompensation, is there not? And you are so very loud.” He glances at the ridiculous cowboy boots; the useless spurs jangling at their heels. He holds McCree’s cock in a death grip and feels his pulse thrumming rabbit fast against the heel of his hand. “So very… eager to get noticed by everybody.”

McCree’s chin is on his chest, his shaggy beard moving with his open-mouthed pants. He looks like he is already seconds from coming and Hanzo is fascinated. They hadn’t been at it for more than a handful of minutes.

“Don’t tell me this is all?” He almost barks it, startling McCree into jerking his hips up, trying – and failing – to fuck into Hanzo’s fist. He couldn’t fuck where there was no slack to buck into. “You’re already so close?”

He finally moves his hand; a slow – torturously slow – motion of his wrist, pushing up a couple of centimeters to cup the tip of McCree’s short, sturdy cock, gathering the copious pre-cum drooling from the slit, then pushing back down. He waits for McCree to sigh softly, then opens his slick fist and wipes it against the unkempt bush of his pubes.

McCree grunts in surprised dismay, head coming up from where he let it fall back. He stares at Hanzo who is still hunkering between his thighs and looking at his cock like it was an interesting specimen.

It was a pretty dick, after all; short and fat. Good looking despite its lack.

Hanzo lets one hand drop out of sight non-chalantly; presses the heel against his own cock. McCree didn’t need to know how hot the sight made him. How much he wanted to suck that surprisingly short cock into his mouth and savor the salty pre-cum. Maybe – maybe – let McCree hump across his tongue until he shot his load.

(Hanzo’s belly clenches when he thinks about how McCree would need to grunt fuck him – would really need to work for it – if he wanted to try and throatfuck him.)

“Wha’ issit?” McCree is slurring. Whiney like a schoolboy. Like he deserves himself a treat for having the shortest dick Hanzo had yet met. Jesse reaches for his cock to jerk himself but Hanzo’s free hand shoots forward to stay him before he can play – yet not before Hanzo sees how huge McCree’s mechanical hand looks next to his cock.

He already thinks about a next time – making McCree jerk off for him. Commenting on how McCree was able to engulf his own cock fully in his fist…

“You lured me in here with false promises, McCree.”

“…Wha?” McCree’s eyes look feverish, his cheeks a brick red. He’s chuffing like an old engine and as they both stare, his short cock flexes out another string of pre-cum which slides down the stout, fat shaft and mattes his pubes.

Hanzo presses his hand almost painfully against his own cock. He can feel it wet into his underwear, and a shudder runs down his back.

“You promised me a nice cock to suck. You said you’d be able to fuck me raw…” And yes he would be able to. Hanzo could already imagine it: the juicy width spreading him open, making him accommodate McCree’s girth… but that was not the point. The point was-

“I think you should apologize, don’t you? And maybe, if you do it well enough, I’ll jerk your pitiful cock off at least.”

McCree’s broad hips shimmy from side to side, his cock swaying where it stands rigidly in the air. He sounds hoarse when he croaks: “‘M sorry.”

Hanzo pushes a hand underneath the sash holding his pants up. It only needs minimal fumbling to curl his fingers around his own cock. Everything is warm and tacky in his underwear. He bites the tip of his tongue for a second to get himself back under control and make his voice not tremble as much.

“What are you sorry for?”

McCree’s face falls for a moment. He looks clueless. Helpless. His beard his shivering with the sharp breaths he’s taking, eyes flicking from Hanzo’s cool, unimpressed – flushed – face to his cock and back again.

When he understands finally, he looks almost like he is about to cry. Hanzo hesitates – suddenly unsure whether he had gone too far. Before he can backpaddle, McCree rasps: “‘M sorry for having such a short dick.”

It’s jerking as he says it; his balls drawing up tight and sudden, Jesse’s voice getting high and urgent. “‘M sorry for – please, I … please??”

Hanzo groans through his nose as he falls forward, mouth open and wet and greedy. The first splash of cum hits his tongue even before he got his lips around McCree’s cock.

He wonders how sensitive McCree is that a little dirty talk can get him so hot. He wonders if he’s always like that. He wonders if he’s ever even been able to play like this – or if this is years of pent up frustration.

Suddenly, Hanzo wonders a lot of things about the cowboy as he drinks down his thick, creamy cum and listens to McCree groan his way through his orgasm – all the while clutching his own cock, and forgetting to jerk off in the face of this unexpected, delightful development.

hey 😀 lil something for @kirinlust‘s ponyplay McHanzo ❤ Hanzo fucking Reinhardt will also come. just later lol

“That’s it. Nice and easy. Push your ass back – just like that. Yeah.”

Jesse’s voice is low and a little indistinct. His chin is on his chest, watching as Hanzo carefully, slowly shoves backwards, body taut as he balances on the stumps of his legs, elbows fluttering at his side uncertainly whenever he starts to wobble a little.

Jesse could hear the soft creaking of the leather whenever Hanzo’s hands balled into tighter fists and tried to move against the bindings holding them snug against his shoulders.

There was no give to be had. The leather sleeves were tight and unyielding, adding to a feeling of claustrophobia. If Hanzo fell, he would probably hurt himself, and the trepidation was making his muscles clench up until he was shivering as he carefully jutted his ass out, searching for the cock he’s thirsting for.

“I gotcha, darlin’. You’re not gonna fall.” Jesse curls the thin reins once more around his fist and watches as Hanzo’s head starts tilting back with the pull. “Can ya feel my cock yet? Why don’t you look for it, babydoll?”

Hanzo huffs. Jesse can see a slow flush creep down the breadth of his back. He is embarrassed, yet still his plump ass starts to wriggle carefully back and down, looking for the thick cock lying against the crease of McCree’s thigh.

Jesse watches a couple moments, amused as Hanzo willingly debases himself for him, then finally has mercy and lets go of one muscular thigh to grip his dick and stand it up for the archer. He breathes with an open mouth, eyes zeroed in on Hanzo’s wet, pouty hole.

Hanzo makes a weird high-pitched gurgling sound when he finally feels the broad, blunt tip nudge against the pliant muscle, stretching him open just enough to give him a taste.

“Sit down, boy. Gotta get into the saddle before you can ride, eh?”

Hanzo tries to let his head fall forward, intent on hiding his embarrassed face against his chest, but the reins are unrelenting and Jesse’s bicep tenses as he tugs against the pull, tongue rolling against the roof of his mouth in an easy, reprimanding click.

“None of that. No pulling. You go as fast as I let ya.”

His eyes trail from the brick red of the back of Hanzo’s neck down to his cock, the head just about nudged into his pony. He lets go of his cock, large hand wandering back onto Hanzo’s thigh, stabilizing him some more as Hanzo carefully sits himself down.

His movement is slow and controlled. Jesse can watch how his muscles spread around his dick, hole pouting outwards, slick and buttery soft around the straining cock.

When he finally sits on McCree’s hip, the only thing to be heard is his soft huffing and the clinking of metal as Hanzo chews on his bit.

Jesse leans to the side, looking around his pony’s hip to take in the picture he made through the large mirror.

Hanzo’s chest was pushed out, nipples puffy looking, pecs straining with his tense muscles. His tongue is working against the underside of the bit, the corners of his mouth pulled back with it, making him drool into his beard.

His eyes look almost feverish, yet he still is far too put together for Jesse’s tastes.

The cowboy grins, feet shuffling farther apart, planting them more firmly on the ground. Hanzo makes a choked sound as that forces his stumps apart as well, almost making him topple over if not for the wide palm on his thigh and the pull against his bridle.

“Gonna have fun now, babydoll,” he drawls. Hanzo’s head swivels around as if he’s startled. He tries to look at Jesse but the blinders prevent him from doing so. He can’t see the sharp grin on Jesse’s face.

.o.

Jesse’s jaw aches with the clench of his teeth. He grunts with the effort of another sharp thrust upwards that has Hanzo cry out and wriggle on top of him, bound arms jerking with the fear of falling until he can manage to settle himself back down.

At this point, the smallest things are threatening to unseat Hanzo. His back is bowed at a painful – and beautiful – looking angle, his elbows helplessly jerking whenever he bounces on Jesse’s cock, plush ass pressed against the heaving swell of the cowboy’s belly.

His strong, amputated legs are clamped around Jesse’s thighs, yet all that is holding him is McCree’s rough grip on his leg and the unyielding pull of the reins, forcing his head back and keeping him upright as Jesse fucked him from below in powerful, rattling thrusts that had Hanzo’s teeth clack loudly onto the bit and Jesse blink sweat from his eyes.

His chest is heaving, hips feeling hot and achy from the exertion of fucking up into the never satisfied clutch of Hanzo’s body. His hole was as greedy as it had been from the start; soft and suckling, cushioning Jesse’s cock and rippling sweetly along the length every now and then, keeping Jesse at bay as much as he was literally reining the archer in.

As he pulls in heaving gasps of air, Hanzo becomes restless on top. Cheeky. He grinds down and bounces impatiently, trying to goad him into fucking him some more and making him take the thick girth of his cock.

“Hey now,” he rumbles, fingers curling farther in and making the reins pull tighter just to watch Hanzo’s thick neck strain as he stems against the force so he wouldn’t topple backwards this time. “If ya wanna get dicked so badly, you should just work for it yerself.”

There’s a startled silence that makes Jesse grin as he settles himself more comfortably. “Yeah. I think I got this all wrong. I think I spoiled ya a tad too much. Ye’re my sweet pony, after all. You are supposed to work. So…” He rolls his tongue again, clicking encouragingly as he pinches Hanzo’s thigh. “Work, pony.”

He can see Hanzo’s reflection in the mirror – the high blush on his cheeks looking like it would taste delicious – his dark eyes staring at Jesse’s knees, eyebrows drawn together. He looks like he’s contemplating his options and Jesse wonders what options Hanzo even thinks he has.

It doesn’t take long until he finally caves, his sheer need for dick far outweighing the laziness Jesse had fucked into him the past half hour.

He is moving slow and clumsy, his little bound arms wiggling as he moves, the large muscles beneath Jesse’s gripping hand shivering when his thighs work and push him up.

Oh yeah. That was far better. Like this, he could lie back and enjoy the ride, watching how the girth of his cock was smoothly taken in and welcomed in the warm body again and again.

“Faster,” he commands and clicks again with his tongue – but Hanzo whines, high and almost simpering; looking for pity as he makes his body slump a little. Jesse is delighted with this new stubbornness; how the princely attitude doesn’t leave the archer even when he’s playing at being a pony.

Jesse looks around for something suitable within reach, but in the end he hadn’t thought that far ahead and needs to use his hand as a makeshift riding crop, slapping Hanzo’s ass once and sharp. “Faster!” he demands again, voice a bark, yet his amusement still thick.

“AH!” Hanzo cries out, whole body jerking in a funny little bunny hop, ass clenching down hard enough to make Jesse grit his teeth.

“Come now! Don’t be lazy, babydoll.”

Another sharp slap finally does the trick: Hanzo starts moving, plush ass bouncing in hypnotizing jiggles as he grinds down and lifts up minimally, fucking himself on just an inch of Jesse’s cock because the poor dear was so exhausted from lying back and taking it – though Jesse wasn’t mean enough to point that out to him.

“Jethe… Jethe,” he lisps, barely able to get anything past the bit pressing down against the back of his tongue. When McCree rolls his head to gaze into the mirror, Hanzo’s short, slim cock is standing at perfect attention, bouncing between his short thighs and oozing pre-cum everywhere. He is making a mess everywhere and Jesse gets hot and bothered just thinking about making him lick it up later; crawling on his bound extremities and debasing himself further for his amusement.

“Jethe, pleathe,” he whines, and Jesse slaps his ass again, bicep bunching as he pulls on the reins sharply, making Hanzo scramble for purchase once more.

His eyes are open wide as he gets pulled back onto Jesse’s cock, made to take all of it, body shivering and poised at the very edges of orgasm. As Jesse watches his face he slaps him again, just to see how Hanzo’s tongue starts lolling out, drool slipping messily into his beard.

“Ya want a treat, babydoll?” Jesse purrs, cock flexing within the silky, tight confines of Hanzo’s body. “Yeah, ya want a treat. Keep at it, hun. Keep fucking yourself on this big, tasty cock and it might just reward ya with a nice load. Get your belly full ‘n warm. Ya want that, right?”

And Hanzo – sweet, sweet Hanzo – whinnies for him as he tries to force his burning muscles into working for that special treat.

Just completed live-write about cowcree and Hanzo 😀 be aware that this is a cowcree that is seen as an animal in that universe even though he’s human looking with cow ears and tail and horns.

The ranch could not have been abandoned for too long. The buildings looked still sturdy and well maintained; there was no overgrowth to be seen yet. Hanzo estimated that the owners had been gone for a week – maybe two.

He hadn’t had this much luck on his travels yet. The large yard between farmhouse and stables felt eerie without any of the bustling activity that one might imagine going on in rural areas as this, but it wasn’t anything that would deter him from a good night’s sleep under a roof. Since banishing himself from his clan he had come to appreciate the simple comfort of a sheltered sleep and maybe a day or two of rest.

There was a sharp wind howling around him, and he could feel the first droplets of rain on his exposed shoulder before slipping his arm into the sleeve and pulling the garment up properly, foregoing easy reach of his arrows for warmth.

He was just about to turn towards the farmhouse and seek a way inside when he heard it under the din of the brewing storm: a deep, helpless braying that made him stop and reconsider. He was eying up the dark stables when it sounded again. A little louder and more desperate. Desolate.

Had one of the hapless animals been left behind?

Hanzo hesitates, shoulders pulling up minimally against the sharp bite of the wind, then makes up his mind. He’s been out alone in the streets long enough by now to know how much a little kindness can go.

As he makes his way towards the pitch black building, head ducked against the rain getting stronger, he reassesses his earlier estimate of the estates abandonment. He doesn’t think an animal could have survived two weeks without anybody to look after it. He also wonders what actions had led the owners to flee so hastily that they would have forgotten one of their darlings.

He slips his lantern off of his belt as soon as he is beneath the short roof, eyebrows drawn together as he lights it carefully, lifting it high so the flickering light can reach as many corners as possible as he makes his way inside, one hand on his bow – just in case.

The stables still smell alive: of warm bodies and dung. In here, the howling of the wind isn’t as loud as it has been a moment ago, and the pattering of the rain seems more romantic than threatening.

He also can hear the rustling of dry hay and straw better – as well as the low huffing of another creature that leads him farther down the corridor, past abandoned bays on one side and strange machinery on the other.

He doesn’t hide his steps but they are still soft enough that the creature doesn’t hear him until the very last second – which is when it brays again, unhappy and loud enough to make Hanzo wince and get his ears ringing.

“Easy now,” he murmurs. He feels unfit to give comfort – it is not in his nature; but it is easier to give to animals all the same.

He carefully places the lantern on the corner of the box to have his hands free and better assess the situation.

Someone has bound the creature to a stake in the corner and as far as he can tell he’s been struggling for a while now: there are deep gorges in the soil underneath and his hands are bloody. As Hanzo watches, he tries to turn around to get a look at him, but the harness around his head is damnably stable and he doesn’t have the understanding in his dilemma to make a step forwards and give himself more slack in the rope tethering him.

His spotted, large ears are flicking, the long, thin tail lashing like a whip. He’s a pretty boy in Hanzo’s opinion. He doesn’t have a lot of knowledge of cattle but the cow seems sturdy and healthy. A gorgeous animal if it weren’t for the bloody wounds he inflicted upon himself in his desperation.

“There, there. I’m going to help you,” he murmurs, taking another cursory glance around and carefully setting his bow and quiver to the side. It wouldn’t do for the animal to accidentally break any of his equipment.

He stops struggling when Hanzo comes closer, large brown eyes watching him as the archer carefully hunkers down and studies the rope and the harness around the creature’s head. His cheeks are bloody from the leather straps and the corners of his mouth look infected from the bit but he doesn’t seem worse for wear.

“There you go.” Hanzo reaches for him, fingers brushing through the shaggy beard and then up into the unruly mop of hair to rub between the small horns and then the large, flicking ears. The animal huffs, eyes immediately going heavy lidded as he lowers his head for more petting. “That’s it. I’m going to free you and you are going to stay nice and still.”

As he speaks, his gaze wanders down. There’s a thick leather band with a name plaque around the cow’s throat. From it, a golden little bell dangles that chimes lovely with his every moves.

“Jesse McCree,” Hanzo reads and smirks when one of the floppy ears flicks at the name. “Good boy, Jesse.”

He talks to the cow as if he were a dog but nobody is here to witness his idiocy anyway. Jesse doesn’t seem to mind. He brays again – this time closer to a deep moo than an actual cry – and shifts, turning with the sturdy, wide hips to the side, eyes fixed on Hanzo’s face with a new kind of helplessness. It only takes a moment for the archer to understand what the animal was trying to show him: his udders were looking painfully swollen, squished beneath trembling, impressive biceps.

As he watches, a tiny dribble collects at the dark, puffy tip of one teat and drops down into the hay.

“Oh,” Hanzo murmurs, eyes riveted by the sight – thinking of the machinery outside… milking machines…- and can’t help but just stare as Jesse moos again, a pained tinge to the sound that seemed to have nothing to do with his bloody fingers and the pain of the harness tethering him to the stake.

“They really did forget you, didn’t they? Poor thing. I can… I mean – I can try to help you.” He reaches out for him as he speaks, a low inane murmur that would set his teeth on edge had he realized what he was doing.

The cow holds still, tipping his chin up, obviously anticipating Hanzo to help him with a kind of desperate affection. His tail is flicking left to right like a pendulum, the dark brown tuft on its end swishing through the straw in the box, adding a soft rustling to the rain drumming against the roof and the wind howling outside.

Hanzo had no idea what he was supposed to do. He would not have thought the sight of those swollen, milk-filled teats would hit him the way they did.

The cow was surprisingly hairy; a good fleece of fur across his pecs – his udders, Hanzo thought with a wave of heat lapping through him – and warming up the soft, generous valley of his stomach.

As Hanzo’s gaze was pulled down towards it, he couldn’t help but notice what else the animal had more than enough of – his mouth becoming so very dry as he stares at the cow’s cock, hanging big and soft between strong, thick thighs.

Heat crawls up his throat and settles pounding and embarrassing in the very tips of his ears. He tries not to stare, but now that he’s seen it swing heavy and tantalizing with the fidgeting movements of the cow, he can’t stop noticing it; how the thick head is perfectly outlined underneath the foreskin. How thick the shaft is.

His hole clenches in sudden, primal want and he feels sick – and stupidly excited – for even considering this.

Hanzo has to swallow a few times to stop his tongue from sticking to the roof of his mouth, then wrenches his gaze away to look back at the problem at hand; Jesse holding perfectly still, practically vibrating on the spot as he waits for Hanzo’s outstretched hand to make contact, to soothe, to help.

The poor, stupid animal doesn’t know that Hanzo had no idea what to do.

The skin is almost feverishly hot to the touch and painfully taut. Jesse makes a sound half bray half whine as Hanzo carefully touches the swell of his udder and then slides farther down with the tips of two fingers, his hand stupidly shaking as he inches towards the swollen, dark mound of his teat.

It, too, is damnably hot to the touch but the skin feels tender. Silky. Velvety as Hanzo carefully starts rounding it with a minimal amount of pressure. He can feel sweat prickling the back of his neck as he inches closer towards the straining, shivering animal, one hand coming up to brace himself against Jesse’s shoulder.

As he massages the dark areola, another dribble of milk emerges – only a few drops that Hanzo gathers on the tips of his fingers and rubs into the taut surrounding skin.

Jesse’s mouth has fallen open around the bit, tongue almost lolling out underneath the weight of the metal. Those gentle brown eyes are unfocused as he waits for Hanzo to keep going and do something.

Hanzo lets out a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding and carefully, experimentally pinches the soft teat between his fingers, trying to squirt the milk out like this – and only managing to make Jesse tense up and bray again in dismay, his back rigid and his tail lashing once.

Quickly, Hanzo lets go, his cheeks hot with another flush – this time of a whole ‘nother kind of embarrassment.

Trying another tactic, he presses the heel of his hand against the swollen pec, pressing and pushing – trying to work the milk out like that. He doesn’t even get a droplet for his effort, only a cow that is more than unhappy with the proceedings, trying to turn away and flicking at him hard with the strong tail.

“Shh, shh,” he tries to soothe nervously, one hand holding the rope tethering Jesse to the stake, the other rubbing between his small, sturdy horns and the annoyed flick of his floppy ears. “I don’t want to hurt you. It’s just that I don’t know how to work the machines-”

He stops and considers, staring into the bloody, unhappy face of the cow, heat pooling low in his gut as an idea starts to form.

.o.

It has been hard to coax Jesse to lay down on his side – the cow had not understood what he wanted of him for the longest time, throwing him strange, put-upon looks as he pushed insistently at the thick hip – but at last he was in the straw and let Hanzo push his arm to the side for better access.

They were both happy with the decision now that He finally could go to work, mouth wet and needy as he latches onto one brown, puffy nipple and soothes it with his tongue.

He thinks, blearily, that he had to learn how the machines outside worked. That he needed to see Jesse standing still as his teats got suckled by the mechanical suction cups.

He couldn’t deny that there definitely was something to say about this, though. He felt horribly filthy as he suckled on the animal’s teat, mouth greedy and nose buried against the taut swell of Jesse’s udder. He was suckling like a babe, relentless and strong, and the noises Jesse made were egging him on shamefully. Low, groaning sounds that had nothing to do with moos. They almost sounded human. His little bell was chiming sweet and innocent whenever he moved, his tail thumping strong into the straw behind him.

His bloody hands were up at his shoulders which he pulled slowly back the longer Hanzo fed on him. He was offering his chest up, Hanzo realized dimly. This hapless animal was letting itself get serviced by the shimada heir.

The first pulls of milk were almost sour – enough so to make Hanzo pull back and spit out the warm mouth full, face tight and disgusted – but it slowly improved; becoming sweet and creamy on his tongue until he had to make a conscious effort to breathe in sharp little bursts through his nose, throat bobbing with eager swallows as he filled his belly with the warm, fresh milk.

Jesse’s fur tickled at his nose and the corner of his mouth, and Hanzo loved every second of it as he pressed his tongue hard against the silky skin of the teat and coaxed more droplets out of it.

He eventually pulled back, the back of his hand wiping over the mess of his mouth, beard soaked with Jesse’s milk. He was just about to dip back down and try whether he’d get another feeding from the other side – when his gaze landed on Jesse’s erection, standing fat and sturdy from between his quivering thighs, the deliciously wide head that Hanzo had noticed earlier already pushed half out of the meaty foreskin. It was dark and glistening with pre-cum and so tasty looking Hanzo almost doubled over from the acute stab of want sizzling through his belly.

“Oh…” is all he says, dumbfounded, staring at Jesse’s flexing cock as milk drips from the apex of his goatee.

“Oh.” He says again when he slowly reaches for it – like he can not possibly help himself when presented with such a magnificent cock, no matter that it belongs to an animal; one which is lying with his head back, chewing slow and content at the bit.

Jesse is lax and satisfied and doesn’t look like he is even aware of the throbbing, thick shaft until Hanzo curls his hand around it, feeling embarrassingly excited when he can’t close his fingers around the girth of it.

“I guess I have to milk you everywhere, don’t I?” he whispers, voice rough and deep and belly craving that extra bit of cream.

The wind has calmed down outside but the rain is still going strong, but here in Jesse’s stable it is almost stiflingly hot. Hanzo feels sweat prick under his arms and roll down the dip of his spine. His thighs clench together as he leans over Jesse’s hairy belly and stares at the cock in his hand angling it up towards his swollen lips.

They feel tender after all the suckling. Almost a little raw. He wonders dimly how Jesse’s teats must feel after being painfully full for so long and then getting milked dry with uneducated, greedy pulls of a hungry mouth.

Hanzo feels embarrassed that he still isn’t sated. That even after he can feel his belly sloshing with Jesse’s warm, thick milk, he still craves more cream. More to fill him and keep him warmed through the night.

His tongue is the first to touch the fat tip, cushioning it almost lovingly before his upper lip drags slow and silky along the skin, then pushes up, making the foreskin roll back and expose Jesse’s glans.

He can vaguely sense the chubby belly underneath his bracing palm tensing, but his attention is on the cock slowly slipping further into his waiting, wet mouth, warm and still sweet from the cow’s milk.

Jesse moos softly. It sounds almost confused. Curious. Hanzo feels his cheeks burn and he clenches his eyes shut, pushing farther down, taking more of Jesse’s cock. He groans when the sheer girth stretches his lips and makes the corners of his mouth burn. He can’t remember the last time he’s been able to play with a dick this thick. This sturdy.

He holds it steady with one hand, helping himself to fuck his mouth onto Jesse’s cock, tasting the sharp, animalistic salt of pre-cum explode on his tongue. His belly clenches as he thinks about what he’s doing. How he’s sucking this dirty animal’s cock, licking it greedily deeper into his mouth until the wide head is nudging at his soft palate; threatening himself to let it slip farther down. Make himself choke on it.

Jesse’s hips flex once, strong thighs falling open wide, giving him all the access he could ever want.

He can hear the soft, melodic chime of Jesse’s bell as he pulls back up, slurping noisily, breathing hard through his nose.

The hand holding Jesse’s cock slips farther down, curling around his balls, the sac feeling as hot and swollen as his udders had felt earlier. How long has it been since Jesse had been able to shoot off?

Hanzo’s thumb presses into the soft, loose skin between the orbs, then rubs across them. Testing. Anticipating how filled they might be. How much Jesse’d be able to fill him yet.

There’s a thicker burst of pre-cum splashing on his tongue, nearly making him choke. It is also the only thing alerting him to Jesse’s sudden orgasm, his balls jerking in Hanzo’s slack grip, pulling up towards his body, pulsing in time with the cock in his mouth-

He is drooling in anticipation, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth in sheer want of Jesse’s cum. The tips of his ears are throbbing with blood, hot and shameful as he slurps and bobs his head and finally – finally – tastes the first rope of cum splashing against his tongue.

He slips farther down, throat open, waiting for more – letting Jesse shoot down his throat in thick, copious pulses.

When he finally pulls back, he can’t help but cough a little, throat burning, lips slick with spit and pre-cum.

He feels too hot and sticky. Too full. His belly is sloshing with what he’s drank down tonight and he is sleepy like a babe.

Jesse lies stretched out, teeth clinking slow and happy against the bit. He looks content; and why should he not?

Hanzo wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and only manages to make more of a mess, cum and milk sticky in his dark beard.

He decides not to untether Jesse from the stake yet. He doesn’t want him to wander out and get lost in the night.

He thinks the cow might need a new caretaker.

ch4tte
replied to your post “Soft cocks are so cute… why’s there not more lil fics about them….”

I can’t tell u how many times I’ve reread ur soft cock hanzo fic *dies*

you sweetieeee ❤ ❤ have this ❤ ❤

Hanzo’s cock when soft – and it was soft most of the time – was a perfect fit for Genji’s mouth. He loved peeking up at his brother’s red face; how he pressed the back of one hand against his mouth to stifle the little sounds he was making, the other hand grabbing Genji’s newly dyed hair.

Genji grins around the small mouth full, finger wriggling deep in Hanzo’s ass, feeling up the silky walls, pressing into them to feel their nice and soft give – and simultaneously press his knuckle into his brother’s sensitive rim.

Hanzo’s eyes close, chest heaving, swallowing down his needy groan as his prostate gets rounded again and again, Genji’s cheeky tongue dipping against the head of his cock, slipping beneath, pressing it almost painfully firm up against his hard palate.

After a moment of torturing him, he lets Hanzo’s soft cock slip out of his mouth, watching it flop wet and pink against his balls.

“G-Genji…”

“I’m not gonna continue if you’re playing dirty, Hanzo,” he murmurs, dipping his head low to tongue obscenely at the soft dick, pushing it around just to make Hanzo squirm in embarrassment. “I wanna hear you.”

He pulls out a bit, rubbing a second finger against his brother’s rim, then slowly pushing it in alongside the first one – making the sensitive hole stretch around both. Already, Hanzo’s eyes were rolling up, knees trembling to spread wider.

“You’re so sensitive, nii-chan,” Genji whispers, mouthing along the shaft of Hanzo’s cock, enjoying how he can’t even feel a twitch even though it has started to drool wet and messy pre-cum out of excitement.

He loved playing with his big brother.

Yo!!! Little something for @hinoart because of her fuuucking sweet thicc Gabriel. uuuuunnnffff….

featuring adorably stupid Jack just being a slut for fat Reyes ass ❤ he’s such an overexcited puppy. I almost pity him.

Jack had been staring the whole fucking day and the worst was – Gabriel knew it. There was no way he had not noticed his unsubtle Indiana farmboy staring – how he’d stopped everything he was doing the second he’d spied Gabriel walking into the gym, mouth dropping open, eyes taking in the tiny shorts and the tanktop that was clinging for dear fucking life, goddamn Gabriel did you not have anything more fitting?! around the sheer breadth of his torso.

As he’d walked over, casual and bumping fists with other recruits, the small shorts had started to move up – sliding into the creases of his thighs, showing off the meaty, scarred swell of them and further cupping his crotch in a frankly obscene fashion.

Jack found himself wondering whether he was even wearing underwear. Staring – and trying so hard not to stare – he could make out the outline of Gabriel’s dick. Christ.

“Yo,” Gabriel grunted as he’d stepped closer, bending to plop his water bottle next to the workout machine and giving Jack another view of those tiny shorts riding up into the crack of his ass; plump looking and still pure muscle.

By now, they were alone in the gym – and still, Jack had not been able to calm the fuck down. Every time he thought he’d found his equilibrium, another little thing caught his attention: the way Gabriel’s thighs slipped and slid against each other, sweaty and trembling in exertion, the strong muscles in stark relief – no thigh gap to be had with this one… the way his shirt became all but see-through, his dark brown nipples on full display, the thin, straining fabric cupping the swell of his pecs… even dipping into the shallow valley of his belly button.

How the fuck was it even still holding up.

Hell, even the dark, wetly curling hair beneath Gabriel’s arms had taken his rapt attention, only drawn over in the first place by Gabriel’s low grunts of strain as he pushed weights with his goddamn fucking legs. He’d just barely caught himself before starting off on fantasizing about him pushing his face against Gabriel’s ribs and inhaling deeply….

“You’re a thirsty boy today, Morrison.”

He jerked, head snapping over again, staring with owl-eyes at Gabriel absolutely preening on the machine, sitting with his arms up and behind his head, his sweaty body on display – revealing clothes straining to fit around him.

Even his shorts were soaked with sweat. Jack could see the outline of his dick’s head. He could see fucking everything and wasn’t even shocked anymore to realize that Gabriel actually had gone commando – he was too preoccupied fantasizing about sucking Reyes’ dick sweat through the fabric.

“Want a taste?”

Jack’s hands curl into helpless fists on his thighs and release again. His cock is already pitching a ridiculous tent in his own loose shorts.

He nods helplessly – because what the fuck else was he supposed to do?

.o.

“Get in there. Yeah. That’s the ticket, farmboy.”

Gabriel sounds smug and in charge and only the tiniest bit breathless. He’s kneeling carefully on the seat of the equipment, one finger hooked helpfully into the leg hole of his shorts, pulling it aside to give Jack access to the humid crack of his ass – and Jack fucking took that opportunity, burying himself deep enough to make Reyes grunt int surprise brace himself from the jostle.

He is drowning in Gabriel’s fat ass and thinks he will probably suffocate himself like an idiot because he doesn’t want to pull back and breathe.

His hands are on Gabriel’s thighs – those huge, unbelievable thighs – feeling them up; feeling them tense and get rock hard beneath his groping fingers.

His chin is nudging against the soft skin of the heavy, swinging balls that managed to slip out of the tight confines of the tiny shorts. Everything is hot and humid. Gabriel is laughing at him breathlessly; insulting him in rough sounding Spanish that he can’t understand but still makes his ears burn and his cock surge in his shorts.

“Maybe I’ll let you fuck me if you make this good, Morrison.” Gabriel sounds like he’s almost in tears from mirth. He’s angling backwards now, wide hips moving towards Jack, grinding his hole against his eager tongue.

Gabriel’s crack is wet with spit; his skin is silky and warm, the muscles of his ass buttery soft from Jack’s eager tonguing.

“You’d like that, asshole? Get your cock in my fat ass?”

Jack feels like an excited little goddamn dog. He makes an embarrassingly high whining sound and presses closer, hands trying – and hilariously failing – to get a good grip at the girth of Gabriel’s thick thighs. Gabriel howls with laughter, body shaking, grinding back more insistent.

“Yeah I know you want. Shit. You’re good at this, aren’t’cha? Ate a lot of ass out in the cornfields, farmboy?”

Jack wedges his hand between the strong thighs until Gabriel grunts and shifts his stance; one leg sliding off the equipment to brace himself on the floor and give Jack more room, his fumbling hand seeking and finding and cupping the heavy swell of his cock, wrist nudging against his swinging balls.

“That’s it. Fuck. If you can get me off on your tongue, you can fuck me, Morrison.”

No offer had ever sounded so good. So perfect. It gets him stupidly excited, the sheer thought of getting to wedge his dick between those hard, plump cheeks… of trying to fit into Gabriel’s ass, goddamn mounting him, legs spread wide to accommodate the width of his hips…

Fuck, it gets him going. Enough to… to…

Jack whines high in shocked desperation, hands scrabbling at his dick through his shorts, trying, trying-

and failing to do antyhing other than helplessly come in his underwear, cock spurting and flexing, abs clenching hard in an almost dizzying orgasm, his defeat only made worse by Reyes laughing at him while still grinding his ass against his face, demanding to be worshiped to the very end.

Jack clenches his eyes shut tight. They’re burning treacherously as he thinks about the chance he just lost.

“You eh… hehehe…. you’re sure you wanna play like this? I mean – you’re not gettin’ anything out of this, are ya? If you just turn around a little I could give you a hand…”

Hanzo makes a soft, impatient sound, slanting a knowing, flat gaze up at McCree. “I get plenty out of this. I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise. And no – I need to concentrate. Now hush.”

Jesse bites his lip, fingers curling into the bedsheet, hips curling up into Hanzo’s slippery fist when he gives him a slow pump to keep his cock nice and hard.

“You need to concentrate?” he asks, voice climbing a little as he watches Hanzo lean over and inspect the carefully laid out instruments – steel rods of varying thickness spread out on a towel after a vigorous cleaning. “Hehe… I mean…”

Hanzo is sending him another look – this one almost murderous – and Jesse shuts up with a soft click of his teeth. He tries to keep calm but he can’t help the shimmying of his hips; trying to fuck up into Hanzo’s tight grip. He is stupidly excited about the feeling of the thin surgical glove Hanzo donned on the skin of his dick.

“Keep still,” Hanzo says sharply. He has picked out a rod – the thinnest of them all, slowly rolling it between thumb and forefinger. He looks from the thick, flushed cock in his fist up to Jesse’s face, his neatly trimmed beard not able to conceal the smirk. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself, after all.”

Jesse chokes on his tongue, hips standing still immediately. He laughs nervously again – breathless and a little shrill as he watches Hanzo lean forward, a look of intense concentration on his face as he brings up the thin steel rod.

It looks manageable. Not like he would even feel it, if he were being honest – but the easy comment gets stuck in his throat when the very tip lands on his glans, sliding through the lube there and then inching over towards the slit.

He holds his breath, shaggy chin on his chest, staring down at his cock firmly in Hanzo’s hand, keeping him perfectly still as Hanzo starts working, letting gravity do it’s thing, carefully letting it slide down.

Jesse’s breath hitches, fingers holding the sheets in a death grip. His belly wants to heave in heavy breaths but instead he just sucks it in farther and farther because he can’t pull his hips back from the strange intrusion. His ass is glued to the space, not able to move his hips as the small hole gets stretched around the smooth metal of the rod, urethra burning and feeling full-

“Oh damn… oh… oh shit… Hanzo, I-” he babbles, knees fluttering open and closed until Hanzo growls at him to stop it.

His cock feels full. He feels like he might have to take a piss. He stares at the rod sliding deeper into his dick and the pressure in his balls becomes unbearable. He gets panicky when he wonders what would happen if he had to come and the way was blocked.

He wanted to tell Hanzo to pull out, to jerk him off, that he was just about to shoot and, and, and he couldn’t….

-but nothing was getting out. He was breathing harsh and fast, watching Hanzo lean back and look fucking smug, liquid dark eyes flicking up to his face and back to his cock again and again, watching his reaction as he starts rolling the thin rod between his fingertips, then moves his wrist, pulling out the steel and pushing it back in.

“It’s all the way in, Jesse,” he comments with a low voice. “I’m fucking your cock with it.”

“Oh… oh God,” Jesse whispers, eyes burning as much as his cock, nose running. He feels stupidly vulnerable, and Hanzo looks so satisfied.

“You’re going to let me do this to you again, won’t you? Let me stuff rods into your cock…”

“Damn… yeah… yeah, ok… God.”

Here you go ❤ the just completed baby live-write 😀 some young!Hanzo/castle guards daddy kink

Hanzo gets weepy when they don’t stuff him with cock. He loves feeling the smooth texture weighing down his tongue and the spread of his rim burning from too little lube to smooth the way.

Still, they liked to tease him every now and then and deny him just to hear him whine for their cocks, dark eyes brimming with tears and cheeks filling with hectic red spots – as if he was actually fearing them denying what he needed most. As if they had any choice but to obey the kid of the boss when he was vying for a fuck, naked beneath loose clothes and pulling their hands into the generous folds to feel him up whenever none of the other servants were around to witness.

Hanzo is not especially good at sucking cock but he is enthusiastic about it – drooling liberally as they fuck across his soft palate, trying to nudge their way into the soft, jerking grip of his throat and teach him how to let them deep dick him. He is eager but still chokes too easily, spit dribbling down his chin, body shaking with suppressed coughs.

He always looks at them, though – they never had to teach him that sweet little trick; his eyes always wide and curled up, trying to watch their faces and anticipate how good he was being for them.

Sometimes – often times – this was not enough, however, and he would let the cock he’s suckling on pop out of the warm, silky grip of his lips to snuggle his cheek against the shaft, the dripping tip smearing into the ink black hair at his temple.

Just as he was doing now; nose shyly rubbing into the wiry hair at the base of the guard’s cock, barely nudged against the hard belly by the slow, leisurely thrusts from behind. He seems unperturbed. In his own little world filled with kind dicks that filled him up and warmed his belly with creamy, thick loads.

“Are you happy, daddy?”

If he is ever put-upon by their resulting laughter, he has never shown it outright – rather the opposite.

“Shit, he’s clenching down,” the guard behind him grunts, stilling the already slow thrusts to slide the pads of two fingers slowly along the stretched, pouty rim. “His little cunt is gripping down like he doesn’t want to let my dick go any time soon.”

The man in front of him is undeterred by the snickering around them; large hand coming to lie atop the young heir’s head, tilting him back so he can nudge the wet tip of his cock against the receptive, open mouth; Hanzo’s lips are already fucked soft and pliant; plump from sucking the third dick in a row.

“I would be happier if you didn’t stop sucking my cock, baby boy,” he says, voice not unkind, dipping into the soft, dismayed ‘o’ when Hanzo’s eyebrows pull together in a frown, eyes widening.

“Hey… he’s your daddy now? I thought I was daddy…”

Hanzo turns his head, releasing the cock trying to nudge deeper with a wet little sound, smearing the sticky tip against his cheek in the process. He looks torn as he gazes up at another of the guards. Confused like he couldn’t understand what the problem was.

“You are…”

He lifts his hand, curling it around the half-hard cock because it’s there and it’s close and he couldn’t help but want to get his hands on every dick in his vicinity if he was like this. It’s still tacky from fucking his ass earlier, the flesh spongy in his lovingly cupping palm – but it starts filling obediently enough when he squeezes it and lets it slide silky and slow through his fingers, eyes fixed on it like he wasn’t getting dicked from behind; like there wasn’t a second one nudging against the corner of his mouth and the guard in front of him huffing impatiently.

“I am?” the third man hums, sidling closer.

“Daddy…” Hanzo is mindless, whining for it without really listening to what is being said – just instinctually answering in a way he feels is correct and will assure him the most cocks. When he leans over, mouth falling open; already hungry for the sticky cock in his grip, the man in front of him fists a hand in his hair and jerks him back again, face flushing angry red.

“Ey! None of that, now. You already got a cock to service. Be a good boy, Hanzo.”

It is so easy to guide him; have his scattered attention diverted from one cock to the other, his usually sharp eyes hazy and drunk looking as he sticks his tongue out obediently to welcome the spit slick cock back inside, mumbling an indistinct, “Yes daddy…” as he does so.

There’s no hint of his usual awkwardness; his almost painful need to be the best and sharpest and seem perfect all around. On his knees and with his rim puffy from thick cocks spreading it, creamy cum getting fucked out of him in a frothing mess, he seems as content as he never was when kneeling quietly next to his father attending business meetings.

He groans through his nose when he feels the cock in his ass flexing, blunt tip pressing into the spongy, giving walls lovingly hugging it, then scrambles to stick his arm between his legs, fingers almost frantically covering the swollen gape of his rim, working to push the sticky strings of cum bubbling out and down his perineum back inside while the guard behind him slowly stands with an exhausted grunt and makes way for another to take his place.

While he has to wait, he plugs himself up with shaking fingers.

His nose is running and his belly feels tight. He looks pale except for the redness rimming his eyes and the reddish bruise his mouth had become.

“What’s up?” the guard in front of him asks, hand gently carding through sweaty hair. Hanzo mumbles, trying to talk while lapping at the cock idly rubbing across the plush cushion of his tongue.

The guard huffs and pulls back just enough to let him properly speak.

“Hurts, daddy.”

“Your cunt? Sure it does…”

“Yeah,” another guard jeers, pulling the door shut behind him. He is fresh-faced and cocky still; the eagerness not yet fucked out of him by the insatiable heir of the Shimada Clan. “Burns, doesn’t it? Daddy can make it all better.”

His cock is out within seconds, black tie thrown over his shoulder so it wouldn’t get dirty as he kneels down and spreads Hanzo’s ass with both hands to watch the soft gape of his hole around the shaking fingers stuffing him.

Hanzo’s eyes roll up when his fingers are forced out by a new cock pushing insistently against him, ears burning and pounding with his heart beat when he hears them speak about him:

“I can just slide in, right? There’s so much cum here…”

“Think so. He’d make a ruckus if it hurts.”

“Yeah, he’s lubed up enough. Think he’s got three or four loads in him now.”

“I kinda just wanna see him getting raw dicked. Bet he starts jumping like a rabbit when he gets fucked by a dry cock.”

“How ‘bout we ask him?”

Hanzo’s mouth is hanging open to better breathe, tongue out and trying to get a lick at the cock just inches away from his nose. He looks confused when he gets gently slapped with two fingers, gazing up at the serious face looming above.

“You okay? Wanna get fucked by a dry cock?”

He blinks slowly; then again; then a third time, his knees inching farther apart, sleek, young cock surging up between his thighs, slapping against his tight belly until a thin string of pre-cum connects the tip to just beneath his belly button where it dabbed his skin.

“Daddy,” he whines, low and drawn out. Pleading. It’s not an answer at all, but they take it as one anyway, laughing and petting him with an affectionate negligence only reserved to favorite pets.

Honestly, he doesn’t register the first couple of inches, eyes focused on the cock in front of him; how it is getting jerked just inches from his face, a harsh hand in his hair keeping him from actually reaching and sucking the fat tip into his greedy mouth.

When the sensation registers; an uncomfortable burn as he gets spread open wide once more, he has barely time to whine a pathetic “Daddy…” before his attention is drawn away once again by warm cum splashing across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose; the low, guttural grunt of the man above him ringing in his ears and making his belly feel warm and fuzzy.

“Fucking stellar. Good boy. Keeping still for daddy. That’s it, goddamn.”

His hand is still around a sticky cock he’s neglected completely, the guard happy with his slim, callused fingers forming a tight tunnel for him to fuck into, but now Hanzo is getting agitated; his face warm and dripping with cum, his ass warmed by a cock fucking into him that feels bigger than any of the others yet; so large he has to suck his belly in and try to curve his back up, somehow simultaneously moving away from the deep dicking but also putting himself into a better position to allow the blunt head to nudge against his prostate.

His grip tightens around the cock in his hand, body shaking and exhausted. His intestines feel bloated with the cum already deposited inside him. He wonders, vaguely, whether his stomach is bulging with it; whether his daddies have filled him up enough to leave him with a little something to remember them by.

Maybe enough to slide his hand across his belly every now and then and remind himself how thoroughly they had fucked him.

Hanzo barely feels the cock in his grip pulse; the sticky cum coating his fingers and dripping down his arm before he is allowed to cower on all fours and let his head hang low, a low, continuous sound fucked out of him by the cock reaming his ass.

“Daddy… fuck… fuck me, please… oh god…”

“I am,” the man behind him grunts; he sounds dogged. Determined. His hands are gripping Hanzo’s hips tight enough to leave large, purplish bruises. The sharp edge of his fly is biting into the tender skin of Hanzo’s ass every now and then, making him almost squeak with the pain of it, toes curling hard enough to make his calves cramp.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you until you can’t sit for a week straight,” the guard promises him. He sounds indistinct – as if he were talking with his teeth gnashed together like a beast. Hanzo senses more than really feels him put one foot up next to his knee, getting better leverage to hump into him and make him feel the girth of his cock, finally slicked enough with the cum frothing out at the sides, getting pressed out from his cock with embarrassing squelching sounds. “Gonna fuck you good. Get you bred nice and deep with daddy cum. You want that, don’t you? Fucking slut begging everybody to be your goddamn daddy. Yeah – yeah, hold your ass open for me. That’s the ticket. That’s the fuckin-”

He chokes on his own spit, eyes nearly bulging as he comes, staring down to where Hanzo is gripping his cheeks hard, nails biting into the tender flesh as his cheek rubs against the floor. He’s spreading himself wide, making the burn a little more acute – a little more delicious as he listens to the filth pouring down on him, mouth open wide and just about visible beneath the wild tangle of his hair, gasping for breath, smears of cum still on his chin and along his jaw.

He looks like an absolute mess.

When the man behind him pulls out, slowly, huffing through his nose and eyebrows drawn together in intense focus, a thick dribble of cum follows behind before Hanzo can tense up enough to stop the flood.

His hole looks ruined – red and swollen; well-fucked and soft after hours of relentless reaming.

Nobody had thought of giving the Shimada heir a hand but there’s still a mess between his shaky knees.

may I request some Rein breeding 76’s slutty ass, please?

take a very small thing, friend.

“Keep still, my friend. Keep still. You don’t have much time.”

“Reinhardt…”

“I know. I know… shhh.”

Reinhardt pets a huge paw down Jack’s back, then slides it up the side, beneath his shirt to get at the sweaty skin. His fingers easily span the curve of his ribcage.

Jack shudders and wheezes when Reinhardt moves again, minimally moving the thick girth of his cock – sliding it along clinging, wet walls.

“Keep still so I can fill you up,” he rumbles, voice pitched carefully low. They can hear people outside the dressing room. The door isn’t locked. “You’ll need to go in a few minutes. Just keep still. Just keep still and you can go out and have your belly warmed by me…”

Jack bites at his gloved hand, stifling his embarrassing, high keening noises as Reinhardt leans up again and starts fucking with sharp little thrusts that seem to drill deeper and deeper until it feels like the broad, blunt tip of his cock is about to push out of Jack’s belly.

“Just like that.”