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From that fateful day when Reinhardt allowed Roadhog to finger him, it became a habit for them to walk around bare-assed. Reinhardt, at least, tried to put on some jockstraps when walking around the base. But Roadhog had no shame in wandering around the empty corridors with his cock out. In the kitchen, the living space, the gym… His scent, rough and brutal, started to permeate the air, too, leading to a constant state of excitation for the Knight. That… And how grabby and tactile Roadhog proved to be.

Sitting, reading, typing, even sometimes on missions. Reinhardt could not get those hands off him, but he never asked for it.

Their routine became much more intimate when the two were together. The gym became a moment where the fingers played with the orifice, tempting as much as words. Workouts would be rewarded by a quick stop at a bench for Reinhardt to take another fill of Roadhog’s cum. The moments Roadhog spent in his workshop were no longer spent under Reinhardt’s scrutiny but by enjoying those sensitive and sweet lips around his shaft, keeping the criminal satisfied and, therefore, more focused on his work.

Even Winston seemed to praise them for their collaboration and the quality of Roadhog’s works… Unaware, the two only wore their tops near the camera, and Roadhog’s fingers were happily plunging and delving in Reinhardt’s ass… Reinhardt’s cunt.

One Roadhog was training thoroughly, keeping him stretched and even fashioning a dildo so Reinhardt could use it when his partner’s fingers were busy. A toy joined by more, bigger ones, kinkier ones. Until it was better to say Roadhog’s side projects were fashion toys for Reinhardt to use.

Even during their nights, in technically Roadhog’s bedroom, the Junker would be ceaseless in his assault and leading Reinhardt towards another orgasm… Another clitgasm, as the Junker called it.

Called it when, a few days after their first bouts, Reinhardt finally divulged what he hid beneath his briefs. Out of shame, mostly. He kept it hidden from most, but no longer.

“It’s small,” commented Roadhog as he reached to pinch it.

“Yes,” grumbled Reinhardt, looking away and yet feeling excited when Roadhog’s fingers pressed on either side of his cockhead. Even then, with only one phalange of each finger, Roadhog was dwarfing that cock. Small, small even for someone of a typical size, it almost looked like a clit on Reinhardt. A clit atop dufty sizeable balls. The latters were big in comparison, so much bigger that even seeing the cock was an effort in pushing the white hair aside and digging into the groin.

“It suits you and your cunt. A clit.”

“Do not call it like das,” grunted Reinhardt even though blood rushed to his flustered face. Calling it like that was humiliating yet exciting. Tempting as his organ sputtered precum on Roadhog’s fingers.

“You like it,” commented back Roadhog. But before Reinhardt could say anything, that mask lifted, and a kiss stopped him. This time, the aroma of jerky was stronger, and Reinhardt welcomed it, sampling the saliva for one second, five, twenty, thirty-five… Up until he was out of breath when Roadhog pulled away. “I won’t call it a clit in public.”

“But you want to call my cock a clit here.”

“Yes,” confirmed Roadhog, using his hard-pressed two fingers to stroke Reinhardt’s cock. The Knight was hard… or rather, as hard as he could feel. His groin was hot, and he felt bothered, his cock overly sensitive. But no change in length, no fateful erection followed as Roadhog lowered his mask to press the muzzle against Reinhardt’s neck. “This is between us. Your cunt and your clit.”

“As long as it is between… us,” grumbled Reinhardt the moment he gave in and came, his overly sensitive nub spewing against Roadhog’s fingers, coating them and his balls with that cum. Cum Roadhog collected with his fingers, picking up the strands sticking to the hairy groin before he offered it all for Reinhardt. Fingers and cum.

The ensemble Reinhardt started to suckle, listening to Roadhog as he grumbled and reclined on the bed.

“It is between us. You are mine. Reinhardt. No one else’s. You are better than whores,” noted Roadhog, patting his own lap to get the Knight going. Going back between those legs to suck him off. To get his dose of hearty and steamy cum. To feel that potent fluid drip down his throat as usual, to feel his hungry stomach satisfied by the chunky semen he was slurping all day. Even when Roadhog added his “sauce” to Reinhardt’s plate. Everything started to taste like him. To smell like him. To be Roadhog’s.

He was Roadhog’s… He was turned into his bitch, willingly. In their isolation and step by step, their relationship changed. Roadhog was taking the ascendant over him, becoming bold enough to give him the slip some nights before returning with gifts. The firsts of which were… Poppers and pills.

The first to ease their first time anally, the second to make everything more pleasant.

Way more pleasant, as even Roadhog’s presence aroused Reinhardt’s needs. Getting a stiffy was no longer an issue when Roadhog would make him cum through his fingers and toys.

Yet, Reinhardt continued to feel a strangeness in how his skin was softer and his muscles squishier; how he had to calm down on the weightlifting or lower the weights.

He had tried to tell Roadhog to stop with those pills, but it was impossible to resist him when it was that mouth that fed him those pills through a kiss. And when there was that cock eager to spew enough cum to wash it down.

A routine. A new life for Reinhardt.

“Is dass necessary?” he asked, his voice low while gulping down the saliva from his lover, who returned to spooning him, holding him on tightly their bed. The place reeked of sex and cum. They reeked of sex and cum, even after many showers. And the scent was even starting to permeate Reinhardt’s breath as he sighed. Between his legs, Roadhog’s shaft throbbed with life against his nuts and his cock, rubbing against the two and soaking them with precum… Precum that dripped over the sheets, they kept changing again and again, though only Reinhardt worked to wash and dry them.

“Yes. You want to be my sow. You need it,” grunted Roadhog, almost forceful. He wasn’t trying to smooth talk Reinhardt; he affirmed it.

Reinhardt nodded, feeling the fingers pinching his sensitive nipples, pulling and tugging on them. They were growing so sensitive. Roadhog played with them every so often, even by pinching them while on a call with Winston. It was… Getting harder to ignore them, not to accept as his Lover called them tits. Fattening and smoothening tits Roadhog was no longer pulling his grip from.

“Take some,” said Mako, his eyes pointing at the poppers right by the nightstand. “I want it.”

It… His ass, his cunt. His needy hole that burned even now with Roadhog’s cock grinding against it. It was… es, Roadhog was too big and he wasn’t used to it. Without moving much, Reinhardt reached for the little bottle and opened it, taking in a whiff of the petrol-like odor. One, twice, thrice. It was an excess and he was already feeling slightly light-headed.

But to endure what was squeezing between his thighs, he needed it. He needed everything Roadhog could offer to take it: toys, pills, poppers, drugs. Everything just so he could have that shaft deeply pressed within him.

And here it was.

Roadhog pulled back, his wet cock dripping all over Reinhardt’s thighs before the cockhead sprung up and hit Reinhardt’s ass, pressing between the large buttcheeks. Fat, heavy, slightly sagging, they sandwiched the throbbing mast like a hotdog… And they felt warm. Warm as Roadhog was grinding against him, that fat mast throbbing just by Reinhardt’s asshole. It was… Exciting, tempting. He held a moan and brought a finger to his mouth, to close his lips on it, while his legs trembled with excitement.

“Do it… I need it, Roadhog.”

“Breathe.”

More than an advice, it was an order.

Reinhardt breathed, taking a long, deep inhalation that filled his lungs and stung them a bit before he relaxed… He relaxed his thighs, his ass, his body. His cramped shoulder blades nearly dropped as he sighed and had Roadhog’s hands right on his waist. That face, that chin, pressed against his right shoulder while a deep groan escaped the Junker. His ring-covered hand reached for Reinhardt’s thighs and lifted them, pulling his waist closer. Just enough, just enough to give him the access as he shifted his posture, and that fat cocktip was there at the entrance.

“I need it… my… Cunt burns, Liebling,” groaned Reinhardt. And yes, his hole burned. Truly. It was like something had been lit underneath his ass. And nothing could ease the pain when the lukewarm air rushed between the hairy and swamped cheeks. It brought a grunt out of him. Followed, then, a moan when that fat and wide tip was against his hole. Just that massive head was enough to dwarf the slightly-gaping orifice, to make it disappear behind.

But it also eased the pain, the suffering Reinhardt felt from his tender hole. His body… His body was entirely Roadhog’s.

Whenever that man touched him, it erased the pain from the joints, from the muscles, from the hole. A finger pressed against Reinhardt’s mouth, and he happily sucked it, closed his lips around it while the large shaft gave the first hit. A soft one, but the rim resisted as much as it could against the tip. The flesh squeezed and was squeezed, reshaped by the applied pressure.

Air whistled through Reinhardt’s nose as another hit followed. His hole was relinquishing, the rim no longer offered as much resistance but it was the mere size that made the penetration difficult.

It was not as difficult as the first time, though. And through a third hit, Reinhardt’s asshole was fully opened, spread, and taking in the cockhead. But nothing more.

“Your cunt is tight.”

“Y-Yes,” gasped Reinhardt, nodding along to the remark.

He was tight. His lovers rarely thought so. But Roadhog was a whole different category. His shaft was a monster that throbbed and was to conquer his cunt. He could not resist it. He could only endure as Mako gruffed. His cock had stayed at rest for long enough.

He pulled back, retreated… Solely to have his hips pistoning back. A jolt, a muffled cry, a sharp breath… And more than the cockhead was inside.

Reinhardt wiggled his toes, finding them still sensitive despite the unnerving tickling sensation within them. But he said nothing as he sucked on the offered finger, giving to it all his moans, groans, and gasps while Roadhog was happily retreating and giving another earth-shattering thrust. Reinhardt trembled.

He trembled as if sick. His hole was getting cratered, and his bladder crushed, but he was… Hard. As hard as he could be, his groin heating up. And his lower belly, well… It was not the first time he took Roadhog, and through the treatment Reinhardt took from Angela’s recommendation, he was capable of enduring that brutal reshaping. As much as watching the man’s cock almost protrude from his lower belly. Just like now, just like at this moment when the fat cockhead was almost appearing underneath his skin. With a trembling hand, he reached for it and felt the throb, the heat, the energy beneath.

“Your hole is mine,” grunted Roadhog, pulling back. And Reinhardt gasped, feeling the presence disappear while his cunt gaped and burned all the more from the lack of touch.

“Put- Put it back!” he grunted, grinding his teeth as Roadhog obliged and inserted his cock back in… More than half of it, the widest part, had already managed to slip through. The rest…

“Fuck me… No… need to wait.”

“No problem.”

Roadhog’s hands wrapped over Reinhardt, releasing the leg that remained close to the German’s chest. Chest that was back under assault and pinched, the right nipple growing red and erect under the calloused caress.

But with the elbow wrapped around the knee, helping to maintain the leg spread, the cock… Mako’s cock returned inside, it punched, it hit, it massaged, it stole a gasp… And a jet of fluids from Reinhardt’s cocklet. But nothing like an orgasm. It was merely a surprise from the pressure.

“Keep… pounding me. Do it,” ordered Reinhardt through his suckling, uncaring while he had Mako’s elbow digging into his side.

Even then, it was wondrous. Delicious even as the big Junker rocked his hips again and Reinhardt jolted from the pressure inside his hole… Inside his cunt. Inside his body. His belly was reshaped by the cock inside, showing and displaying the massive organ that was rummaging through. Even though there was a twinge from his guts, the overwhelming majority of sensations were parts and pieces of a whole different emotion: satisfaction, lust, belonging. Reinhardt smiled, stupidly so. But he smiled as Roadhog’s moving hips rocked his body in a slow but quickening breeding.

The tip dug deeper each time, opening the way where Reinhardt had never expected to be touched, to be reached. His breathing quickened as he sensed his lover moving faster. Soon, their hips met, the balls pressed against his ass, and his belly bulged obscenely from the penetration. Even then, it was a wondrous sensation, one that made the German Knight feel fulfilled and satisfied at last. No, more than that… Belonging.

Belonging in the Junker’s arms despite the tugs and pulls, despite the grunting by his ear, the shaking he endured, the fullness in his guts. He belonged, or felt he belonged to him. Belonged to be bred, to be fucked.

His hole was stuffed so thoroughly, his rim had become a fiery ring. It ached in being taken, and it ached to be taken. It ached to be filled, stuffed, bloated with that cum Roadhog’s cock was already spewing and shooting inside. Such a flow, hard and hot, started to overtake Reinhardt as his cocklet shot, too. It shot and shot, drawing little white lines on the sheets while Reinhardt sensed his guts bloat with the fluids. How Roadhog produced so much? That question would remain unanswered for the German Knight as he trembled from under the assault. His lover, his abuser, his partner was breaking him apart. His abdominal waist was slowly filling up, and the ruined abdominal muscles stretched beyond measure, getting a rounder shape from the fluid inside.

All the while, Reinhardt was not cumming.

Not the way he used to. Instead of a single shot leaving him breathless and unable to move even a leg or a finger, it was… A constant barrage of sensations battering his mind.

He was not cumming, but he climaxed nonetheless as his prostate was thoroughly hammered. As his body was getting fatter from the cum pumped, roughed up by a perverted Junker. And when the hands released his tits, released his mouth… It was to have that mask pressed against his face.

The rough leather rubbed against his beard, scrapping his skin while the fat fingers held onto his belly.

“My… Sow,” grunted Roadhog.

“Your… Sow,” moaned back Reinhardt, out of breath.

He was out of breath, red, unable to take more than short wheezing breaths before everything was out. His lungs were crushed under the cumflow that gave him a swollen belly, no different than a pregnant woman. His guts were hurting, it was akin to being ripped apart under Roadhog’s touch. But likewise, it was… The best. The most wondrous. The most fulfilling sensation as his tight hole was there, closing on the shaft, right when that cock throbbed and pulsated with life.

With cum. With his cum.

“Breed me,” growled Reinhardt, feeling Roadhog’s fingers digging into his belly and soft handles.

“I will breed… You all day, my Sow,” grunted the Junker. His voice was low, it was closer to a rumble. A rumble that would become an avalanche, a thunderous roar, a grunt capable of shaking the entire outpost when… There was the final shot. When Roadhog truly came and with it, disappeared his considerations for Reinhardt as he humped, pumped, and dumped all he had in his balls, all that pent-up nutslop right into that wondrous and bouncy ass.

“TAKE IT!” he shouted, the voice trembling in that roar. A potent and deafening roar that punctuated Roadhog’s climax… but not the end of his movement.

No, he continued. Whatever drove him, it gave him the stamina to keep pumping and churning the cum settled in Reinhardt’s guts. He pumped, pushed, hit. And Reinhardt panted, heaved, dry-heaved, and held onto the sheets as his inner walls were battered and his defenses brought down one by one.

Yet, at no moment did he ask to stop. At no moment did he beg for mercy.

No, he asked for more. Begged him to fuck him more, to stuff him, to please him, to brand him with his seed until after the third round… They stopped.

The sheets were a mess of fluids, whether cum and sweat. Around them, the textile had soaked up a circle of sweat that could be seen with its darker coloration.

Their skins glistened under the neon light as they stopped. Reinhardt’s hair was thoroughly caked, sticking to his face, cheeks, neck, chest, groin. Even his thighs were almost glued together from the sweat and hair as he looked above, watched Roadhog’s mask over his shoulder.

The wheezing from it, the slow movement from his chest lifting and dropping, were everything that was needed to be told. They were used, spent. Roadhog was finally satisfied, and Reinhardt…

As the Junker pulled out, a constant flow of cum dribbled from his ruined butthole. He was not certain he could close it again, or if he could feel anyone else after this. His hole was so agape, air could rush in and tingle his inner walls the same. But despite the soreness and pain, he tried to turn. He tried to twist… And he landed on the other side, gritting his teeth when his weight landed on his posterior. But by then, he was before the Junker. The Junker happily welcomed the fingers lifting the mask and the lips yearning for a kiss.

“Good… Sow.”

“It was good,” Reinhardt managed to grumble, passing his tongue over his lips, the only thing that wasn’t wrecked by sores and pain.

“I want to breed you. Day and night.”

Reinhardt thought it was merely a promise made from the afterglow, at the moment when tiredness and love mixed in to hand out the most deviant promises. But it was not.

Not when Reinhardt woke up with Roadhog pummeling his ass again. This time, the penetration was so much easier the Knight barely resisted it.

Thirty minutes later, he was out of the bed full again, plugged by one of Roadhog’s toys, and on their way to the showers.

It had not been a stupid promise. But a truth. A truth that left Reinhardt loving and wanting as their routine crumbled, as their lives shifted. As the pills and sneaking out became more regular when Reinhardt was recovering from the thorough fucking or handling the tasks of cleaning the dishes, the sheets, and the floor.

Even then… Whenever Roadhog was back from his workshop or outside, it was for his work and clean-up to be undone when his lover would fuck him, ruining his hole until it was no longer a pain to take him in… But rather a familiar sensation.

A familiar presence that brought him pleasure each day and allowed him to become a sow. To appreciate a pleasure he was discovering under those calloused fingers. They never left him unwanted and undesired.

Even at the gym, during the few moments Reinhardt had the opportunity to slip there, it was to have Roadhog behind him… The maintenance routine would always be disrupted by Roadhog finding his Sow back there and offering Reinhardt something.

A finger, a drink, a fuck… Until it was only natural to abandon those weights and machines, all those exercises that could not stop the weight he was putting on.

“Do not move,” grumbled Roadhog right by Reinhardt’s ears. As they were standing by the mirror, Reinhardt had all the opportunity to watch himself as he moved his arms slightly. He flexed them, but his biceps were not bulging as much as before.

But then, he dropped then, glancing down his chest. Right onto the fingers digging into the left breast, pinching and playing with his puffed-up aureola. One hand pinching and holding onto the teats, the other held a syringe that was planted into the fat tits. The green liquid had always seemed ominous, but Reinhardt breathed out and relaxed despite the warm sensation. The liquid was injected, and its presence started to spread on the entire chest. It was a fuzzy sensation that elicited a quiver.

One worsened as Roadhog pulled the syringe out and started to massage that fat tit, cupping it and squeezing it as if he was molesting him.

Yet, the fuzziness eased the pain from such a rough manhandling. Soon, both of Reinhardt’s blossoming breasts were held and lifted, fighting against their slight sag. Roadhog put forth the oversized and wondrous nipples. Nipples he stroked and held between the phalanges, holding like between scissors.

He was getting so sensitive there… So much more he felt his little cocklet dribble with fluids merely by the touch and grazes over his erect red teats.

“How… Do I look?” moaned Reinhardt, feeling strange. Disgusted and yet loved. Disgusted as he was no longer the same, as he could only compare his current appearance against what he was. His ass had never been so fat and curvy, his thighs so generous, and his waist wide. His belly, too, had always been fit, but it looked positively swollen and started to encroach on Roadhog’s territory.

Yet…

Loved as he heard the Junker’s excited breath, as he felt those hands pinching and playing with that body he was starting to appreciate for its given sensations. Everything was more intense, more pleasing, more… sexual. Even the strokes over his round belly were getting him hot and bothered, especially when those fat fingers traced the pig’s face drawn onto it.

“You look like a sow. About to bear my piglets,” grunted Roadhog, his voice rumbling with excitement.

“Good. Is das… Everything for today?” asked Reinhardt, trembling. His asshole was again gaping and dripping with fluids, no different than a cunt. It ached again, heating up after only a few hours after being fucked.

He… was addicted to that man. To that cock. Whenever they parted ways, Reinhardt found himself fingering and attempting to emulate sensations of penetration with his fingers, with his hands. But nothing could satisfy him like Mako did.

“No. Your shirt,” offered Roadhog, pointing at the fabric near the mirror. An overwatch blue shirt. Or rather, what remained of it. The fingers parted from Reinhardt’s tits, and the German Knight put it on.

Most of the fabric under the chest level had been cut off and removed. What remained were the sleeves and the collar, but if someone were to glance down, they could see… The exposed and hairy breasts as they dropped on Reinhardt’s belly, giving him that motherly appearance that drove Roadhog crazy.

But not at that moment, not for the hour. Even though Reinhardt was aching for another thorough fucking, he had something else to do… And he grumbled, reaching for Roadhog’s mask to kiss him.

“I will be fast,” said Reinhardt as he slipped away from Roadhog, leaving behind a trail of natural lubricant and precum as he walked outside the showers and was welcomed by the scent of raw masculine sex. No, the outpost was their den of pleasure, their little haven of sex and peace.

But as he went for the command center, he was welcomed by the slew of turned-off computers and one large screen behind a camera.

It was where Reinhardt reported to Winston. He took the typical posture, yet… butt-naked and wearing nothing but the remnant of that shirt on.

He sighed, passing a hand over his belly to massage it, to feel what remained of cum inside… Before he turned to the camera and turned it on. His face appeared, but not Winston’s. His face was… Glowing. His hair was more luscious and long, attached behind. His beard remained the same, if not trimmed through Roadhog’s help. Even now, he looked to be perkier than usual. Even his lips were looking softer. But before he could look at them, another face appeared.

“Reinhardt! Are you okay? You missed our last meeting!” started Winston. The massive Gorilla genius seemed distraught, his nostrils dilated and his furred hands adjusting his glasses quickly while he squinted in Reinhardt’s direction… Or rather, towards his screen.

“We had an issue hier. Nothing important, Friend,” answered Reinhardt, quickly glancing at himself while he tried to straighten and puff up his chest like usual. A bit more and the line where his shirt had been cut would appear.

“An issue? What’s this? Mako Rutledge escaped? Have you read my message about your cameras?”

“No, nothing like that!” quickly answered Reinhardt, his accent returning for a moment while he raised his hands as if to stop Winston. “We are checking everything like asked. But we sind not technicians.”

“Hmm… I should have sent D.Va or Mei. They could fix the cameras in no time.”

“What? No! It’s fine! We will handle dass! Count on me to do my part!”

Still, Reinhardt felt a shiver run through his spine. Roadhog had… Sabotaged the cameras, and Winston noticed it. Ever since, the Gorilla kept poking at it and asking them to fix this. But it was better to keep the cameras down, or he could… See everything.

“Hmm. It’s true D.Va would hate an assignment where you are. And Mei-”

“Mei has better to do with… the weather… Thingy she does.”

Reinhardt even nodded as he watched Winston’s circumspect expression. For a moment, the large Gorilla was frowning and pursing his lips towards his screen… Before he returned to the camera and smiled.

“You are right. Mei is too busy. And we have that mission at Rio de Janeiro. Are you sure Roadhog will escape if you go here?”

“Hah… You know,” rumbled Reinhardt, looking away. He could have gotten the opportunity to leave that place. They even offered to send a quick transport to get him hauled back to Gibraltar. But he had refused. He looked down a moment as he felt a little twinge in his breasts, then coughed. “I don’t believe him, yet! He is too brutal, too thick...Skinned! It is better I watch over him constantly. Otherwise, he won’t work!”

“About that. When should we receive the next load. We need-”

With the way Winston spoke and his pacing, Reinhardt started to tune out. Something was strange and tickling the back of his mind. Sure, that cargo was important for their next assault against Talon; Roadhog’s traps were quite useful, and his weapons were right from a scrapyard but efficient against modern shields.

But it all went in the background as Reinhardt passed a hand over his belly, his hips… His ass was getting so wet and needy, the scent of cum was starting to come to his nose and tease him. Even then, it wasn’t that ass that was nudging him and aching.

“I also sent modified plans for the traps. Roadhog should employ them for safe storage. We had an accident with an agent last week.”

“I’ll send them.”

“Good. Now, about the hogdrogen-”

Again, Reinhardt tuned out. His eyes were on Winston as he read something from another screen or a report. But his hands were going higher and higher. He touched his belly but found no burning skin, like when he got his tattoo from Roadhog or stretching marks. It was somewhere else, and Reinhardt’s finger dug up and up. He went over his breasts, and there it was, the heat and twinge. Roadhog had been heavy with today’s dosage, and that was what hurt. Still, as he tried to keep a straight face… Reinhardt fondled himself. His index and big fingers dug against his aureolas while the other fingers held everything, keeping his chest steady. He dug into the soft flesh and traced fingers within it, sensing the pressure within that stretched the skin and made it heat up.

“Reinhardt, are you listening?”

Reinhardt snapped back, his eyes refocusing, and his smile disappearing as he shook his head.

“Sorry,” he mumbled even though his fingers and hands were still over his chest, out of view. Barely so, but it was better that way. “What were you saying?”

“I was asking you about those expenses for medications. You said Roadhog’s health was stable with the bare minimum hogdrogen.”

“No, no. Sorry, Friend, es was for me. I have… Sores. I bought them urgently.”

“Sores?”

Winston’s eyebrows lifted. Maybe it was the price that made him doubt. Whatever he had said or figures he had pointed out, Reinhardt could not tell. He could not care. His breasts were feeling so full, so needy. It was like they were about to burst when he stopped massaging them. He had… He had to get Roadhog’s help. He had to get them massaged, to feel those gruff hands holding them and squeezing them like he did.

“Sores. Pain in the back. I pulled my muscles. Don’t tell Angela, please,” growled Reinhardt, trying to make himself look the most contrite despite feeling the need to smile, to grin, to gleam with that pleasure of caressing himself. His ass was gaping entirely, dripping with fluids the camera was not picking up. And his cocklet was like a faucet, making a mess in the command room.

“I won’t. Bu-”

“I… I need to check. I hear Roadhog outside. He could be onto something,” suddenly cut in Reinhardt. He suddenly heaved, his breath shortening as he passed a thumb over his nipples. They were so red, so swollen, so erect. It was abnormal. He had to go.

“Wait! Rei-”

“Sorry! But this cannot wait!” nearly shouted Reinhardt as he reached for the screen and cut the camera feed, the call, everything. He cut everything in urgency as he turned and marched towards the room entrance.

“Mako!”

“Mako!” he shouted as he held onto his breasts, looking for the man. Looking for his Lover, his Partner… For the man who had injected him with that cocktail of drugs. He would know how to handle the pain, how to handle the sting, the pressure, whatever that was.

Reinhardt shouted through the compound, approaching the Aussie’s workshop without a shame. The sounds of machinery and welding were loud, indicating Mako was working; but with a shout, it stopped.

Followed the loud footsteps, echoed by Reinhardt’s.

And then… Reinhardt sighed, pressing against his tits to present them forward, feeling them hot… And covered with sweat.

“I need your help mit them,” grunted Reinhardt. The pressure within them was unbearable, intense, mind-numbing. He needed something to get that out.

“You are ready for my piglets,” laughed Roadhog in return, approaching with his eyes down.

“Ready for-” started Reinhardt, then he looked down.

He looked down on the milk dribbling from his tits over his fingers and chest, soaking the white hair before it all went down over his belly, tracing lines.

“You are ready to feed the piglets, my Sow,” commented Roadhog as a slight shuffle indicated he was lifting his mask. Just a bit before that mask hid away Reinhardt’s left tits. Then, warm… Warm, moist, tense lips closed on his burning nipple. It was electric, ecstatic. His entire body was afire when the lips closed and suddenly suckled on the erect nub. His suction noise was completed by growls and grunts, by the sounds of someone loudly taking his breath after gulping something down. But with it… With the sucking came the peace.

Reinhardt’s left tit, so hard, so rigid, so hot, was feeling better and lighter. He was… Lactating and backed-up with milk. A milk his lover was happily suckling, even nibbling. But even the teeth scrapping against it were nothing, no pain whatsoever compared to what Reinhardt had suffered from an instant ago. No… He dug his fingers deeper, gave his left one a squeeze, and Roadhog grunted aloud.

The door was open, and all that milk poured out right into Roadhog’s hungry mouth while Reinhardt felt like… Climaxing.

Climaxing from breastfeeding that man, from the pinching and rubbing on his breast’s underside, even the grazing on the aureola by Roadhog’s chin.

There was something hot and bothering; both sensations mixed altogether as Reinhardt’s mind slipped away. The loud chugging and slurping changed direction, and now it was his right breast that was allowed to release its pressure. The left one was still big and engorged, but the right one had been on the verge of bursting.

Not anymore… Not anymore as Reinhardt released his fingers and reached for Roadhog’s head, stroking his nape as he allowed him to suck and stuff his belly. Whatever was that milk’s taste, Roadhog clearly and loudly enjoyed it. And Reinhardt as too happy to oblige, even as his light-headedness forced him to lean back against a rack, to have his lover’s body and erect cock rubbing against his thighs.

He was lactating. He was… Ready to bear that man’s piglets. The thought finally occurred to him as he looked down. As he watched that criminal happily pleasing him. In a matter of a few months, everything had changed for Reinhardt. Everything had changed so fast, but for once in his life, he truly felt intimate with another man.

He was feeling loved and desired, appreciated even… Yearned as that massive cock pressed and rubbed against his legs, coating them with precum.

“I want… Your piglets,” grunted Reinhardt, his voice low as he kept stroking that nape.

If Roadhog heard it, he showed no signs of it. There were grunts, more suckling, and his fingers were now all over Reinhardt’s chest, firmly holding those tits he was squeezing like fruits, going from one teat to another without a break.

Reinhardt’s voice went higher as he moaned from Roadhog’s brutal mouth. He loved it. He loved every second of it… Even when Roadhog peeled his lips away and put his mask back, Reinhardt loved the sensation of burn around his breasts covered with hickeys. With a glance, it looked like someone had been biting and abusing them, covering his tits with bruises.

But the pain from the bruises was nothing compared to the overflow, and it even felt satisfying to have those burning spots on the surface, reminding him of what could be on the inside.

“I will give you piglets,” said Roadhog, his cock erect and raging. It was so red and erect… Reinhardt could not resist it. He had tried. He had tried so hard to resist him, to tell himself he was a stud. But he turned to present his plump posterior to that man.

“Do it! Give them to me!” shouted Reinhardt as he reached for his buttcheeks to spread them. Between, his asshole had been so battered, so abused, so ruined, it looked nothing like an asshole. It looked closer to a… Glazed donut. The flesh was pink and swollen, even possessing a slight sheen from the neon light.

The natural lubrication was in full swing, and even now, a few droplets were dripping from that ruined orifice onto Reinhardt’s perineum and hairy testicles before it landed down. He was wet. No different than a woman, no different than a beast in heat. And it felt good.

But nothing as good as having that thick cock brushing his ruined hole. Or to feel such a ruined hole open up and close onto the tip as it was pushed within. It was akin to kissing it, to closing upon it. It was damning to embrace such perversion or to embrace the role of a bitch for a criminal.

But when the cocktip slipped entirely inside, those considerations went to hell.

“Fuck me! Mako! I want to be a sow! Your sow! Make me love!” roared Reinhardt, holding onto the rack while his lover’s hips moved closer… And that cock rammed deeper within him. His muscles no longer fought against the presence, his guts had since been used to such an intrusive mast. The pain had receded a while ago and been replaced by only the need and yearning whenever Mako was not deeply hilted within.

And more than ever, more than before, Reinhardt desired to feel Mako’s massive belly pressed against his back, those hairy nuts smacking his prime buttocks, or the tip stuffing him with that good piggy nutbatter.

“You are loud,” commented Mako. But his tone wasn’t disapproving. No, he even chuckled with that halfway chortling and coughing sound. He seemed satisfied and amused by Reinhardt’s praise. And motivated as he was not taking his sweet time to plunge his dick entirely within the German’s hole.

“Yes! I want it! I want it so badly, Liebling! My cunt is yours! Claim it! Fill it! It’s a Junker’s cunt! All for you!”

Tears streaked across Reinhardt’s cheeks as his jaw and mouth hurt from smiling so much. Was it crazy? Was he gone crazy to love such a man? Such a pervert who had ruined his body and made him an addict?

Maybe.

But he was crazy not to have given in before. Crazy not to have found something giving him such a pleasure, such a sense of belonging, such love before. He was crazy because he had been denying everything he was before.

At that moment, Roadhog was there to crush those lies. To crush his prostate. To crush his pathetic manhood, to make his worthless cocklet spew on the ground. He had already done so much. However, Reinhardt felt like, this time, Roadhog’s movements were going with a purpose. His cock was hitting the same spot again and again in an angle that made it difficult for penetration and slower, and less pleasant.

It was an angle without any common measure, and one leading to a single same spot. A spot Reinhardt had grown to love and yearned to have it abused.

Roadhog constantly hit his prostate, smacked it, smashed it. He was drilling against it, and every hit added more to a sickly shaking overtaking Reinhardt. Roadhog was doing something impossible, something insane. Something that should not be done.

But Reinhardt smiled. He grinned with saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth. Whatever Roadhog did, it was for their benefit, for his. Reinhardt would learn to appreciate it, to take in that gift. His prostate was starting to release pangs of an entirely new sensation, a pain never experienced before, too. And it was growing.

The sensation was growing as much as the intensity in Roadhog’s movements. His nuts smacked hard. His breathing went hard. His cock was hard as it drilled the prostate ceaselessly. And an orgasm was coming close, for Reinhardt, for Roadhog. Their breaths hastened, their bodies tensed, their limbs were shaking sickly.

“It’s… It’s so good, Liebling! More! More!”

“I’ll… Crush it,” answered Mako with a growl as his hips continued their pistoning and hitting the same battered spot. The tension within was increasing and with each hit, the pangs got closer to an explosion within Reinhardt.

He smiled, grinned, cried. He cried as something within him knew what was to happen. He cried as his Lover’s hits on his prostate were there to break it, to pop it. He was about to maim him, to break him. Still, he drooled and smiled as the pangs were becoming too much. His legs. His arms. His breathing. It was becoming a blank, a mix, a nothingness compared to that crushing sensation… And he hollered.

“Crush me! Crush everything! I’m yours!”

He cried as his entire body went blank, and he could not feel anything besides the sensation as his prostate was utterly crushed and popped, his body broken beyond any measure. He felt he was cumming, too, as fluids dripped over his nuts. But there were bits and pieces of pleasures lost in a sea.

Somewhere, he knew Roadhog was pumping him full of cum until he looked round and pregnant. He knew he would drop if that cock were pulled away from his asshole.

He knew… He knew that he had been claimed by Roadhog, becoming his wife.

And that was how… How Reinhardt ended like this as he was happily fondled and molested by the man with a body fitting for a whore, a broodmother, but not of a German Knight, not even an Overwatch agent.

Still, Reinhardt smiled while his lover’s fingers were digging into his bra and pulling them down to expose that plump and hickey-covered teat to the camera.

“Liebling, Please. My cunt aches for you.”

“Leave your message, and I’ll fuck you on the way home.”

Reinhardt smiled. Even though Roadhog said the opposite, there was his enormous cock pressing against Reinhardt’s ruined cunt. His orifice was so agape and ruined, it was impossible for him to recover from the abuse. But it made him the perfect cocksleeve for the brutish Junker who happily pummeled him back.

It was so good, so satisfying… So pleasing he could barely stop his eyes rolling as he faced the camera recording for the last five minutes.

“Hrmph… Winston, I know you’ll be watching this message. I am… Sorry, you must learn it like this,” whispered Reinhardt, extending his neck as Roadhog breathed against his neck. He exhaled, smiled, tensed when the man again squeezed his prostate, finding it again healed, thanks to the drugs they found in the infirmary. “But I must… Leave Overwatch, and retire.”

“Tell him everything,” grunted Roadhog, his voice low as he continued to hit and smack against Reinhardt’s prostate… Enough for his dicklet to dribble with watery fluids while the German reached to adjust the camera… To have it point at his sagging tits bouncing free under the assault, his tatted belly, or his crossed-out inflated nuts. He was recording it all.

“Hhh… I thought I could watch over Roadhog. I thought I was a good man. But… I’m not. I lied. I am a sow, and he showed me the truth. All that time with the cameras and the chats, I lied to you… Because I was afraid and uncertain of who I was, Winston. It was us who cut the cameras. But it doesn’t… matter. We will leave this place before you arrive here, with this message for you.”

Reinhardt tried to speak despite the constant pummeling in his guts, despite the brutality Roadhog inflicted upon his asshole and prostate, no… Cunt and lovespot. His clitoris was dripping like crazy, and again, there were Roadhog’s hands pinching his tits.

“I cannot let you capture Roadhog again. I cannot live without him, as his wife. We’re… Leaving together. It had to happen, when you sent us together in that compound. I could never resist him… And look at me. He made me look better. I am… A better bitch now. I can bear his piglets, and… Feed them… And I have no cock to play! It is great!”

His tone was closer to zealotry. But he was grinning despite the saliva dripping from his mouth, despite his “ejaculation” that could be compared to a spray of water or piss coming from his tiny cocklet. He was unashamed, unafraid to expose what he had become.

“Roadhog helped me… Become what I was meant to be! And I’m free! I’ll be free with him!” chuckled Reinhardt, through gasps and hiccups. “I’m leaving with him. And I… I plan to become his wife. I will be Sow Rutledge. His bitch…”

He hiccuped again as he adjusted the camera, pointing at his face.

“We will disappear. There’s no reason for you to search us. But… if you want… One day, you can join us. Roadhog always need more piglets. And I will be glad… Glad to have you join me, Winston. You would be an excellent wife, too.”

Then… With a moan, Reinhardt turned his head to the left, looking above his shoulders at Roadhog as he growled and grunted. His cum dripped from Reinhardt’s ruined orifice as he added another piglet to the lot, stretched, and pushed more into that round belly.

“It’s… It’s the message. Do… You want something else?”

“No. He will join and be a sow like you. Shut the camera. I’ll stuff you again.”

“Yes… Liebling!”