Tag: rape tw

12th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 5th Fill

McHanzo + Genji – continuation of this – rape tw; molestation; non con tw; stuck in a wall; yandere Genji; yandere McCree – Jesse can’t let the opportunity pass. (Don’t mind the setting of it being a training exercise… I can’t bother to come up with a reason why nobody finds them haha)

.o.

Hanzo is silent, probably too shocked at this turn of events.

If he had thought Jesse would help him, he is sorely mistaken. He should’ve been less of an asshole to garner any sympathy, and even then Jesse is not quite sure whether he would have passed the opportunity to get his hands on the ass Hanzo has been so goddamn fucking stingy with.

Jesse finally holsters Peacekeeper.

“Seems like whoever was here just took a chance, hm? ‘Tis awfully rude of you to walk around with your balls swinging free. Can’t blame a fella for copping a feel.”

He looks up to the rafters where Genji has slotted himself into a little nook and is watching with what Jesse assumes is rapt attention. He winks at him, then hurriedly reaches for the free leg that is suddenly kicked out.

“McCree!” Hanzo’s voice is breaking hysterically and Jesse wishes he had some kind of recording because *damn* he could get off on just how panicked and indignant the prissy bitch is sounding now.

“Hey, hey… none o’ that now. We’re all civilized men, are we not?” It does not take much to push his training gear out of the way.

Hanzo’s hips jerk when his cock lands heavy and hot right against his tailbone. Jesse’s dick is polite like that: he’ll knock before entering.

“I think we’ll all come to an agreement.”

“What the *hell* are you talking about?” He can tell Hanzo wants it to sound a lot more cutting, but what actually reaches his ears sounds faint and a bit shaky. Like he’s close to tears. Jesse’s dick fills out more at the thought. It gets him unduly excited to think about Hanzo’s dark pretty eyes wet with tears, and if he weren’t so sure he’d bite like the bitch he is, he’d have him choking on his cock until he cried a long time ago.

“I’m talking about what it’ll take for me to keep quiet, ya feel?” He is moving his hips, dragging his cock along Hanzo’s cleft with self-indulgent slowness, one thumb pressing down on it to help keep in that nice little valley. “Ya wouldn’t like if the others found out what kind of nasty slut you are, I reckon. Since I got pictures and all of your fine ass parading around without any underwear on.”

He’s pretty sure, at least, that Genji has taken himself at least a souvenir.

“You can’t be-”

“Serious? Oh babydoll… I think you can tell just how serious I am.” Hanzo’s leg has become lax in his grip, and Jesse lets go of it in favor of grabbing his cock and slapping the fat tip against the flushed little opening that Genji has had a bit of a go at already. Hanzo makes a sound like he’s choking, his plump muscle clenching visibly against the threat of Jesse pushing in.

He’s been thinking about it for months now; wondering how tight he’d be; how warm and silky he’d feel wrapped around him and stretched to the absolute max.

How he’d sound, begging for mercy and whining about the big dick that is rudely fucking his stingy little cunt open until it is sloppy and stretched-out. He’d never have thought he’d actually get an opportunity to try it out, though. He probably wouldn’t have taken this stellar chance if not for Genji, bless his filthy little heart.

*This one’s for you, buddy*, he thinks, then muses aloud: “I don’t got much slick on me right now. So you just gotta breathe through it, y’ hear?”

He leans forward, generously spitting on Hanzo’s clenched pretty cunt – *not gonna be so pretty anymore when I’m done with it* – and grins at the undignified squeak he can just about hear on the other side of the crumbled wall.

There’s no more fighting; no more bitching – just a lot of whining and panting and trying to spread his thighs farther to make the fat cock forcing its way into him seem less impossible to take, and had Jesse known how easy it was to get Hanzo to just *shut up* for once, he’d have pulled him on his dick a lot sooner.

*Damn* it’s a tight fit, though. Jesse is gritting his teeth, the nails of his hand biting into Hanzo’s ass cheek as he shimmies his hips and tries to keep pushing inside, but the burn on his poor dick is immense, and Hanzo is clenching down like he’s trying to strangle his cock.

“C’mon,” Jesse hisses through his teeth. He unclenches his hand with some effort and brings it down in a hard, meaty slap against Hanzo’s ass. Hanzo jerks and cries out, and actually loosens up enough to let Jesse force his way deeper inside.

He feels like he’s trying to crawl dick first into Hanzo with how desperately he wants to grunt fuck into his belly – impossible on this little slick – and from the way Hanzo sounds – quietly hyperventilating on the other side – the prissy bitch probably has the same thoughts.

He wonders whether Hanzo will be less of an elitist bastard from now on. Whether he’ll be cowed the next time they have an argument, afraid of Jesse’s big dick. He does not think so. Doesn’t *hope* so.

He can only dream of the next time Hanzo opens mouth to be a mean fucking bastard just for Jesse to show him his place with his cock rooting around in his guts and rearranging them some.

So many new, exciting possibilities have opened themselves up in front of Jesse…

Hrrrrrn yes Hog with the absolutely mindless, burning desire to breed everything that can be bred, working off a pure instinct rather than any logical thought. He can’t even help himself, he just has to dominate and breed every single pussy he comes across

hnnnngh yes. god, I love breeding/impregnation kink. So so hot. I bet they all reluctantly love it, too. They like to pretend like they’re not into him acting like a total brute and pulling their cunts on his dick, but they’re super into it. Especially Mercy :’ ) she’s such a pig tbh

11th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 4th Fill

Winston/Soldier76 – continuation of this fic – RAPE TW; forced feminization; coercion; slut shaming; hitting – Soldier is back from his mission and his first pitstop is at Winston’s place.

Winston rarely sleeps in his quarters; more often than not he falls unconscious during his research, having tuckered himself out without realizing his own fatigue.

Finding him in his actual bed for a change is a stroke of luck in Jack’s opinion. He’s just come back from the mission and hasn’t even showered yet. He’s dirty and gritty but he needs to get his cock wet; especially after how abruptly last time had ended: The footsteps becoming audible through the video feed before Winston had suddenly moved; pulling down his sweater and jumping up from his chair, leaving Jack with a view of it slowly rotating within his view.

He hadn’t come back that night.

He must have known that it would have consequences – but he obviously hasn’t anticipated just how quickly Jack could finish a mission when properly *motivated*. He does not think the good scientist would have let himself get caught in as isolated a place as this.

His face when Jack straddles his large gut and takes a seat, looks as much. He’s startled and confused, big hairy arms flailing until Jack can pin them down. He can pinpoint the second Winston realizes what is up: his face becomes deathly pale.

Jack grins down at him and grinds down on Winston’s large belly to let him feel how excited he is already.

“Hey there, babygirl…” he purrs, watching how the other man’s face falls when he seems to realize that he’s not dreaming. He lets go of his arms, sure that he’ll leave them up over his head like a good girl – he does – and slaps his cheek a few times, just hard enough to hear the smack of it.

“Oh no… don’t you cry now. Daddy’s here, and he’s missed you *so much*…”

He takes Winston’s pyjama top in both hands and rips. Buttons shoot off in all direction, making a ruckus as they hit the floor and wall and clatter against other objects.

Winston flushes, his big brown eyes becoming wet as he stares up at Jack. For a second he looks like he wants to say something but then presses his lips together once more and doesn’t. They both know he wouldn’t have gotten out anything past his idiotic mumbling and Jack pats his cheek again before looking down and sighing deeply.

“Ah. Damn, I’ve missed those tits.”

He grabs at Winston’s pecs, soft and hairy like the rest of him, and squeezes until the scientist grunts softly, his head turned away.

Jack laughs at him and just pinches one of his dark, pudgey nipples until Winston makes a soft sound as if he wants to cry out but doesn’t let himself.

“Oh does that hurt, Princess? Does it hurt if I pinch your pretty teats?”

He does it again, and Winston squawks, the big muscles in his biceps twitching as he fights against the urge to push Jack away or cover up. He obviously still remembers last time he tried to deny him.

“You can cry out if you want, you know.”

With his other hand, Jack opens his pants, then fishes around the humid insides until his cock practically leaps into his palm. He shuffles farther up until he can drag the crown against the thick fur between Winston’s tits.

“I don’t care if the others hear. But you seem to be a bit squeamish, hm? After last time?”

Winston’s head snaps around and he stares up at Jack, mute but horrified. Maybe he hoped Jack would not bring it up; how he’s just left him hanging. Jack grins slowly, rocking his hips, casually fucking between Winston’s pecs.

Winston’s dark eyes flick down and stare at his cock. His nostrils flare. He has to smell how dirty Jack is, but he keeps quiet about it, even though his face becomes a little bit more pinched.

“You can cry if you want. Girls do that a lot, don’t they? Maybe someone will come to save you… Or maybe they’ll want to play with you, too?”

He has both hands on Winston’s tits now, pressing them together to fuck between them. When his cock slides across the coarse, dark hair, it leaves behind a sticky trail of pre-cum.

He has half a mind to get off like this and force his personal slut to drink it all down, but Winston looks curiously defiant and more composed than usual, and Jack thinks he should maybe up the game some.

He’s been dreaming about that fat ass on his dick anyway, so why not indulge himself?

Winston’s breathing becomes quick and wet when Jack manhandles him onto his front, then whimpers when he hits his ass and tells him to get properly up on his knees.

“You want daddy’s cock?! Work for it, whore.”

At least those are some nice reactions finally. There are things that are harder to get used to. A fat cock in your little girl cunt is one of those, Jack thinks to himself with a sharp, canine grin as he spreads Winston’s fat ass and tries to brute force his way inside.

It is too tight and too dry. Winston is howling into the pillows, and Jack gives him another hard slap in frustration just for good measure. He rummages around the man’s bedside drawer and gets the lube stashed away there.

It’s easier with his dick slicked up, but still takes a while to squeeze his dick in. Winston refuses to relax, and he’s still whining while he clenches around Jack’s cock like a seasoned whore, his dick plumping up nice between his trembling, chubby thighs.

“There you go. You love daddy’s dick. Next time you’ll be a good girl. Show your little clit off to whoever daddy tells you to, right?”

He fucks hard and ruthless, one foot up on the mattress for better leverage as he dicks into the tight, painful clench.

Winston’s answer is lost in another howl.

11th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 2nd Fill

McHanzo (past Hanzo/others) – RAPE TW; past gangbang; sloppy seconds (more like sloppy tenths); slightly deranged/yandere Jesse; Deadlock days; dry orgasm – Hanzo is prisoner of Deadlock and when daddy doesn’t pay they have their fun with him. Jesse, as per usual, is the last to have a turn.

“Yo, McCree! Get it!”

Jesse perks up from his corner where he’s been playing a card game against himself, and jumps from the barrel he’s been sitting on over eager.

Finny sneers at him, then practically throws Shimada at him with the grip he has on him, hair curled around his fist. Jesse catches him with a wide grin.

“Thanks.”

Finny grunts and throws his friend a look. They both look disgusted as they tuck their dicks away and button up.

“Suit yourself. He’s a worse fuck than the last one. The pretty ones always take it like a fucking fish.”

Jesse just keeps grinning. He does not care, obviously. He’s been at the bottom of the food chain long enough that he does not even seem to care anymore where he sticks his cock. All the holes are sloppy and stretched out anyway; it’s no skin off his nose.

Finny grunts and his friend rolls his eyes. They stroll off to find some booze somewhere, and then Jesse is alone with the Shimada heir.

Hanzo has been fucked by most of the Deadlock gang but he still smells weirdly expensive. Jesse buries his nose in his hair, not caring that it’s a bit wet with one of the guys’ loads, and inhales deep and appreciative.

Hanzo tries to twist away, but by this point he has to be utterly exhausted. Jesse does not mind his weak struggling, he carefully sits back down on his barrel and pulls Hanzo on his lap.

“Wow, ye’re a pretty one,” he murmurs, thick fingers brushing along a bruise blooming vividly on one high, sharp cheekbone. Hanzo stares at him like he’s trying to figure out how to kill him with his arms bound behind his back as they are, but Jesse doesn’t care about that either. He’s used to all of it.

“C’mere. ‘M gonna make you feel better.”

Hanzo is kitten weak. His legs are trembling and have to be achy from being held apart so viciously by the men before Jesse. There are dark purple bruises and handprints all over them, and Jesse carefully puts his own fingers over one set and gently squeezes until Hanzo groans into the dirty rag they stuffed into his mouth.

Jesse makes a sympathetic sound but keeps squeezing, watching Hanzo’s face intently as if watching for something. When he seems to see *it*, he lifts Hanzo minimally and puts him on his cock. He slides in without resistance. It is a slow, easy glide; everything made squishy and wet by the loads fucked into him beforehand.

“Spread you out good, didn’t they?” Jesse murmurs gently, warm breath puffing against Hanzo’s collarbone as Hanzo groans into his rag again. “Got a sloppy ruin down there now,” he sighs, and then coos when Hanzo indignantly starts struggling again: “Oh no, no… don’t be like that. ‘S can be nice, you know? ‘S just a cunt for fucking now. Good ol’ Jesse is used to that anyway. I don’t mind at all. I kinda like it, even. There you go… there… be a good boy…”

Jesse is not moving, but he’s moving Hanzo; slow, gentle rocking motions that have his cock rubbing against the hot, silky insides of the Shimada heir.

He’s not kissing him or getting his face too close to Hanzo’s (He’s learned the hard way how it feels to get his nose broken by a headbutt) but he’s smearing his lips against his chest and pressing kisses all around his soft, pudgy nipples.

When he seals his lips around one, sucking hard enough to get the shy tip to emerge, he finally hears it: a soft, reluctant sigh above him, muffled into the gag.

So he keeps at it, tonguing against the small tip, sucking hard enough that whenever he pulls off to breathe, Hanzo’s soft, fleshy areola is obscenely swollen and red with blood.

Hanzo’s face is flushed when he glances up, his eyes gone thin and glittering. He’s still moving him on top of his cock as well; rocking him to let him feel how nice and big he is; how weirdly good it feels to have his dick press into the aching walls of his abused hole.

He’s not hard, but he does not have to be. Jesse has done this often enough to know what he’s doing. He croons at him, keeping at his ministrations and watching the emotions play over his face as the pinched look of hate and annoyance slowly melts away into one of confused arousal.

Fucking him is loud and lewd; loads of cum frothing out of his hole and making a smacking, squelching sound with every move Jesse forces him to make with big gentle hands that guide him along the cock spearing into his guts.

The little sighs and sounds Hanzo makes are becoming more desperate and needy. He sounds a bit frantic and confused, body going rigid as he sits up taller, tries more energetically to get away –

And then it suddenly happens: Hanzo grunts, his eyes rolling up into his head as his body shakes, jerking, abdominal muscles twitching and clenching as he comes dry on Jesse’s cock while Jesse coos at him, gently fucking him through it and watching him with hooded eyes.

The others just simply don’t know how to treat a lad to a good time. No wonder they never get a bang for their buck.

11th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 1st Fill

Slasher76/Lúcio – RAPE TW; choking; stink kink; rough fucking – Lúcio is camping in the woods. Slasher finds him.

In the sudden beginning – Lucio getting shocked out of a cozy sleep, hole still wet and achy after jerking and fingering himself to drowsiness earlier – he had still struggled and tried to cry out in alarm.

The only thing that little stunt had gotten him was a cock, musky and *smelly* shoved down his throat until he gagged, tears forming in his eyes and snot starting to run.

His assailant is quiet mostly. A huge, feverishly hot presence that only grunts occasionally as he gives it to Lucio in a way he‘s never had before.

He‘s stopped struggling quickly. Maybe he shouldn’t have – maybe he should have fought back more; but in the end it is easier to just go along with the abuse and let himself get fucked in a way that makes his teeth rattle but has his cock shamefully hard.

Lúcio is getting flung around just as the brute wishes; arranging him like nothing more than a ragdoll – a fuckdoll – for his amusement; and every now and then Lúcio can see the eerie glint of a jagged weapon to the side. Close enough to be grabbed within a heart beat and shoved deep into his squishy belly if he’s not cooperative enough, he is sure of it.

He gets flipped onto his belly, hips dragged up into the air until his knees lift off the floor and he has to brace himself on the balls of his feet. Help along in his own rape as the monstrous man mounts him like an animal.

Lúcio’s cock is swinging between his thighs, untouched and wet at the tip. His throat is burning from the rough, balls-deep fuck from earlier. He’d felt a sick mixture of abject relief and… disappointment when his assailant had come, shooting his thick, big load basically right into his belly as he made Lúcio choke on his unwashed dick.

It’s almost hilarious for him now how naive he had been to think that that would have been it. He does not think the man has even gotten soft before starting his rutting once more, balls obviously still full and ready to breed him some more.

Lúcio grunts when suddenly a heavy boot hits the back of his head. From what he could tell, the man hasn’t gotten undressed apart from opening his pants enough to get his fat cock out. He is even wearing an eerie mask that Lúcio tries not to look at. Dirt tickles against his cheek, and his eyes fill with tears from the pain, but he is distracted from it by the feeling of large, rough hands spreading his ass, and then the man’s cock pushing into him, blunt and careless, and using the meager bit of lubricant Lúcio had used earlier to jerk off.

Lúcio can’t breathe. It is like the man is fucking the air right out of his lungs as he starts laying into him without a care in the world, his boot keeping Lúcio down while his hard, unrelenting grip makes sure his victim is not slouching down onto his knees.

He’s hiccuping out weird sounds. He can’t tell himself whether he’s sobbing or moaning. His cock is still fat and distracting. It feels like a wound; overstuffed and more than ripe. He does not think he’s ever had sex with someone so wholly, deeply uninterested in his own pleasure.

He’s getting grunt fucked like an appliance – and that is what is happening; he’s started laying into him with sharp, irregular thrusts that have him grunt deep and guttural in his chest, mingling with Lúcio’s weird little squawks – and Lúcio feels like he’s in a fever dream.

When the man finally shifts his boot from Lúcio’s head, he feels… delirious. Out of it. The world is turning in circles around him, and getting flipped back onto his back is not helping.

His assailant is standing in front of him in an awkward half-crouch. He is way too tall to stand upright in Lúcio’s tent. He is so *broad*… he seems to be taking up all the available space.

He does not seem to feel Lúcio’s weight; he lifts him with a rough, uncaring grip at his ankles until Lúcio’s shoulders are barely still touching the floor, then shoves back into him; diving deep into the silky, hot insides he’s left just moments prior.

Lúcio gurgles but the man keeps quiet; his mask is staring down at him without expression, the eye holes glowing an eerie orange. Lúcio wants to say that it at least shocked his cock into softness, but still it is lying fat and needy against his belly, even as he gets his legs spread like a whore and his guts seemingly re-arranged by the large dick pumping into him.

Eventually, he is too fatigued to keep staring at the man and lets his head loll back. His abdomen feels as sickly stuffed as his cock does. He wonders if he’ll catch anything from this beast of a man; he certainly smells like he hasn’t seen water in a few weeks. (… And Lúcio does not know yet that in future he’ll needily sniff dirty underwear as he jerks off; that he can barely even get it up anymore without a thick, pungent cloud of odor around him.)

He stares blearily at the weapon the man has brought with him. He imagines him taking it into his big fist and putting it against Lúcio’s throat. Just a silent, menacing threat.

And suddenly, Lúcio comes, pathetic and whimpering, getting his belly hot and sticky with his own cum.

The man just keeps fucking him through it. If he noticed Lúcio’s shameful orgasm, he does not show it. Just keeps using up that warm little hole he’s found.

10th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 8th Fill

Lucio/Zenyatta/Reaper(or anonymous slime monster) – Satyr!Lucio and Zenyatta; rape/rape play; dub con/non-con; tentacle sex; belly bulge – Lúcio and Zenyatta get so much more than they hoped for.

They knew they weren’t allowed to wander this deep into the forest, but the danger has only made it more enticing, and daring each other top hop deeper has been way too easy.

Sooner rather than later they’ve resorted to holding hands and staying close as they make their way through an underbrush too thick to hop any longer. They have to carefully place their small hoofs so their dainty fetters don’t get caught in the insidious vines curling about, but they’re still in good spirits.

The fear they feel is electrifying and keeps them alert, their long ears flicking around to listen to the crack of tree branches and the thump of other inhabitants walking around.

Every now and then Lúcio giggles nervously, pushing himself more into Zenyatta’s shoulder.

“Maybe we should go back now,” he whispers when it becomes clear that the encroaching darkness becomes thicker and thicker. They both have grown up in the forest, but neither can tell whether the darkness comes from the slowly setting sun or the woods themselves.

They’re a bit disappointed. The tales of the elders – meant as a warning but only stirring their nervous desire – have been keeping them on track for the most part. It seems, however, that the others have been wrong: there are no monsters in the deep forest that are just waiting to defile and wreck supple satyr fawns.

They glance at each other, cheeks flushed, and finally Zenyatta stops and sighs.

“Yes. We should go back.” He squeezes Lúcio’s hand: a promise for them to play afterwards and make up for the disappointment – when suddenly the predator that has been following them for a couple hours makes his presence known.

.o.

It’s exactly what they’ve been angling for, but actually being wrapped up in slimy tentacles, no way to escape their slippery, unrelenting halt, is… quite scary.

They bleat at each other in distress, held apart just enough that they can watch but not touch, and the monster that has them in their grasp chuckles.

“What tasty little toys,” it purrs. There are a few mouths and a hundred eyes appearing and disappearing in the black mass that has come out of the underbrush. There are so many sharp teeth, but none of them have nipped at their kicking flanks yet.

“So… juicy…” Black tendrils curl around Lúcio’s thighs – plumper than Zenyatta’s – and pull them apart until Zenyatta can just about see the tender pink of his hole hidden in chocolate brown fur.

They’re manhandled around, dainty fetters restrained and pulled apart at the creature’s leisure who seems very interested in those hidden, warm little spaces beneath their fluffy tails.

Their arms have been twisted against their backs as they are suspended in the air, close enough to feel each other’s breaths on their faces and see their hot, embarrassed flushes as slick tendrils begin pushing into them sleek and without hindrance.

Soon enough they are bleating for whole different reasons: their guts filled with the writhing, undulating mass, holes spread wider than they’ve ever been before as they get rocked in their tethers by the creatures amorous thrusts.

There’s drool slicking from the corner of Zenyatta’s mouth, and Lúcio’s cherry red tongue is lolling against his chin. Their fur is a wet, sticky mess from the monster sliding across every inch of their bodies.

“Ah… p-please… mercy,” Zenyatta whimpers when he feels like there is no way he’ll fit even one more inch inside him. He feels like the creature must have advanced right into his belly. Whenever he looks down, he can see the grotesque bulge there; how he looks like he’s carrying two, if not three little fawns.

It is scary.

And so… *good*…

The creature around them just chuckles. A few mouths appear, grinning wide, then disappear. There are always eyes watching them greedily.

“No more!” Lúcio cries out suddenly, struggling anew. Zenyatta, glancing at him with a feverish stare, can see how new tentacles have started parting the thick fur on his companion’s crotch; showing off his sleek, dark red cock and the tight, furry balls beneath. When the tentacles start caressing him there, Lúcio sobs, helplessly bucking into the touch.

Trying to fuck it.

As Zenyatta stares, he can feel the same happening to him.

They are so desperately, intimately full, they feel like the creature will spill back out of their mouths any second now, and still it is stuffing more and more inside of them, fucking them, bouncing them on itself and ruining their tight little holes with its insane stretch.

They bleat weak and pathetic, a flush of humiliation and lust hot on their cheeks. They come so easy for it, even as they beg for mercy and to be released; creamy little loads coating the thick fur on their thighs; one, two, three until they start sobbing in earnest, feeling like their hearts might explode from the stress.

They like playing with each other; sticking a face beneath the other’s perky tail to lap and suck at him until he comes, purring and soft; doing it again and again until they’re sticky and sated… but they’ve never been this… debauched. This… relentless. They’ve never been *fucked* before; used like warm sleeves and nothing but breeding mares.

It will be long until the black mass shudders and starts pumping them full. Even longer until they can stumble their shameful way back into their home, their bellies still so round with the creature’s load sloshing in their guts…

10th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 6th Fill

McHanzo – rape tw; faux beasitality; cow!McCree – Jesse turns the tables on Hanzo and Hanzo is a sick fuck that loves it.

Maybe it is because of Jesse’s gentle, sometimes even downright lazy disposition that Hanzo had not thought much of precautions. Of course he’s heard the tales of farmers getting overpowered by their amorous cattle, but… well.

He’d always fancied himself as being the one who mounts… not the one being pressed down by considerable weight, struggling not to be crushed beneath his cow while Jesse very determinedly fucks against him and gets the backs of his thighs slippery with whatever liquid his cock is so generously producing.

Maybe somewhere in the dull head it had occurred to Jesse that being mounted by his farmer whenever he pleased was not something he desired. Or Hanzo’s incessant rutting into his buttery soft hole had awakened the cow’s lustful side, though he’d never shown as much, preferring to keep munching on whatever’s in front of his nose.

Whatever it had been, it didn’t matter much now; not when Hanzo has to taste his own medicine and be mounted and fucked by his cow without a consideration for his own desires.

As he scrambles at the side of the barn, trying to find some way to place his hands and at least brace himself against Jesse’s heavy weight, it occurs to him, that he is effectively being raped by his own goddamn cow.

And that he is turned on by it to a sickening degree. He is panting already, heavy and wet, his cock straining against the front of his overalls als he whispers – very quiet and not forceful at all – “No.. don’t… you can’t…”

Jesse, of course, does not understand. He is single minded. His cock is hard and he wants a nice warm hole to stick it into, and he thinks this warm hole might just be found between his farmer’s now trembling legs.

Every now and then the silky hot head of Jesse’s long dick is brushing the back of Hanzo’s knee, and he gets nauseous with how much he wants that thing rammed into him.

He wishes the short pants of his overalls were wide enough to just tug them to the side, but as is, they stretch tight around his thick thighs.

So he has to fumble with the fastenings one handed, whispering “wait wait wait…” when Jesse starts becoming impatient and shoves himself farther up his back. Everything is hot and heavy and Hanzo can barely think through the fog in his head.

Finally, his overall slides down more or less. He stands in an awkward half-crouch, overall bunched around mid-thighs, naked safe for the rubber boots he has donned. No underwear, of course, because Hanzo is a dirty cow fucker that likes having access whenever the mood strikes, and his own whorishness makes his cock surge and dribble.

Jesse is still rutting, fucking, trying to find the hole – and when he suddenly finds it, he *pushes*.

Hanzo cries out when the cow tries to force his way into a hole way too small, tears springing up in his eyes.

“No…no…” he whispers half-heartedly, one trembling hand travelling down. Jesse’s next thrust has him collapsing against the side of the barn, cheek mashed into the rough wood. He gets his hand around his dick while he tries to shuffle his legs farther apart. Make more room for the fat cock spreading him open. He can’t make more room, effectively hobbled by his own overall.

Getting raped by his own cow against the side of his barn and loving every second of it. His insides feel painfully hot; like Jesse is fucking fire into his belly.

From behind he can only hear the animalistic grunts of the cow; feel the slobber dripping against the nape of his neck and sliding down between his shoulder blades.

Jesse jerks forward, fucking deeper into Hanzo’s belly, and the farmer sobs, coming in a long, hard spasm that makes his knees almost buckle.

Jesse fucks slow and clumsy. He does not really rut; just pushes himself deeper and deeper, the exertion clear as he pants hot and wet into Hanzo’s ear. Only when he’s stuffed all of his cock into his belly does he groan long and drawn out. Stops all his movements and just lays on Hanzo’s back while his cock seems to do its own thing; flexing and swelling and strangely moving inside Hanzo’s abused guts.

Hanzo’s legs are shaking. Jesse is heavy and makes him bear all of his weight. He sees him as nothing but a warm hole to inseminate, and it shows.

Hanzo wonders blearily whether this will happen again and again from now on. Jesse turning the tables on them and fucking him whenever his mood strikes. Hanzo can feel his cock jerking again in his slippery grip. Copious amounts of fluid are dripping out of his raw, fucked-out hole as he fantasizes about becoming his cow’s little fuck doll.

Making sure he’s wearing clothes that can be shoved aside for easy access…

He is sick, sick, sick, sick. This should not be so hot. This should not make him shoot of a second time already, splattering the dusty ground between his boots with his cum.

He shouldn’t get off so hard on being raped by his cow; but he is.