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Winston and his Ride

Winston new ‘Pet’ project might backfire on him. Or not

The glasses were lifted for a second, just so he could check the vial a second time. Red. The right composite. The liquid had the same intense blue marker he used for the experimental treatments. And then… With a smile, Winston slipped the vial into the jet injector.

The ensuing click was all the security needed, with the vial secured and the mechanism ready to inject its contents into whoever would be the recipient.

A recipient that had been waiting, munching on hay with a look of utter boredom. Well, it was hard not to read boredom on a face that didn’t have distinct features, much like any human. His eyes were of an intense black and wouldn’t betray any rapid eye movement. The mouth wouldn’t contort as much as for any human. And yes, those evidently equine features, like the ears or tail, could twitch and reveal much… But with time, Plato kept those in control.

Much like now, as Winston approached the bay Horse with the injector, noticing how that tail or those ears were not even twitching as the Gorilla approached.

“Mare?” asked a voice, whispering directly to Winston’s mind. A voice, the Gorilla chased by shaking his head and closing his eyelids.

“Plato!” he shouted back. “I told you to articulate your thoughts.”

“Sorry,” answered the voice, with the feral Horse’s head turning to Winston. “Will I get a mare?”

“It is not in Overwatch’s current budget to buy you a mare. Not that it was in any,” answered Winston, adjusting his glasses, the injector, and then planting the injector against the Horse’s rump.

“Ouch. How long will it continue? I need a mare,” answered the Horse.

Lately, it was the topic Plato constantly asked Winston about. Or any of the staff that passed by Winston’s lab. Typically, everyone would come to the sapient Gorilla for advice, for techs' modification… But lately, the Gorilla had been living as a hermit while his laboratory slowly turned into a barn that reeked of Equine sweat and worse.

Though the reason for the smell and the isolation hit Winston again.

A thought… And an idea… A desire to check under the Horse’s belly, to get a glimpse of that bright pink equine cock that had already slipped from its sheath and was throbbing against the Horse’s barrel-chest.

A desire Winston gave in for a second before he shook his head, taking back control over his thoughts and actions. He grunted.

“Plato. I am aware that you need a mare and have other needs. But you cannot keep doing that,” answered Winston, huffing and stepping away, on knuckles and feet.

Without missing a beat, hooves stomped along, following and leaving the hay-stacked corner to follow along. Calm stride, waving head, relaxed breath, Plato was not… In his worst state.

“I cannot do it. You forbade me,” answered the Horse, blowing through his nostrils.

“And with reason.”

The reason was simple. When, by slapping his cock against his barrel-chest, Plato had coaxed an orgasm out of himself. However, the result had been a long shot that had landed right in Winston’s working area.

Beakers had been broken, and certainly a few organic components had been soiled by Horse semen, ruining the preparations that had been ongoing. Days of wasted work.

Days of frustration, too, with Winston constantly having to push away the thoughts that Plato regularly broadcast when he was angry or sexually frustrated. His dick, glimmering with precum and dripping with cum. His cock sliding inside a plump equine vulva, the orifice wide and ready for him to take his seed… The sensation of walls pushing and clenching around his dick. And more.

It was ceaseless; it was a constant assault on Winston’s mind whenever he worked. And even now, he could feel the tingling of Plato’s prodding. Something indelicate.

“What are you looking for?”

“The reason why you are refusing me a mare. Or to be one.”

“Me? A mare?” scoffed Winston, huffing and turning to see Plato’s unexpressive face. “I am a scientist. Not a mare, Plato. Besides, this treatment should help with your libido and limit your testosterone level.”

Plato blew his nostrils: “I don’t need drugs or limitations. I need a hole. Your hole.”

With it, Winston was hit.

Not physically, though the wind was knocked out of his sails as he tottered back. He saw himself… He saw the Gorilla that he was, wearing his blue Overwatch jumpsuit, sliding between the Horse’s legs. He smelled the intense aroma from Plato’s dick, the ‘stench’ that came from his leathery and low-hanging nuts… From that skin that was constantly coated with sweat and hanging low between the Horse’s legs.

It was a mixture of memories and feelings, one he got by cleaning the Horse… And another by Plato’s prodding.

A prodding that left him blinking, jaw agape. And then, frowning, before anger flared on his face.

“Plato!” roared Winston, stomping closer and raising his index finger towards the Horse. “I will not do that. Stop this constant prodding. I have work to do.”

“You do?”

Following the question, there was another hit… A vision of Winston watching porn, his cock held in his feet while he scrolled from one video to another, while the ambient sounds were clearly telling of a woman getting stuffed.

And then… Another hit. This time, it was the sensation of Winston masturbating, the pleasure as he had that orgasm churning in his groin… As well as the heat at his cocktip while he masturbated… And licked the Horse’s flared cock, his tongue dancing over the wide urethra that released a constant flow of salty and musky precum.

The stench, the sensations, the taste. It was all so real, Winston was stunned when he returned… And faced that equine muzzle pressing against his chest, pushing him.

“Plato- I,” mumbled Winston, falling on his sizeable posterior as he watched the Horse’s muzzle go onto his jumpsuit, nibbling, gripping… Before the Horse ripped the suit apart, revealing what was underneath… Winston’s erection, sure. His uncut cock was hard and needy… However, there was also Winston’s ample chest, his pectoral fatty and slightly sagging, much like his posterior. A chest the Horse sniffed before he stomped onward.

For a moment, Winston thought those hooves would crush his head. Instead, Plato merely walked until his barrel was above Winston’s head… And his cocktip was pointing towards Winston’s face, much like in what he’d imagined.

“Do it.”

“Plato. I have work to do. Responsibilities towards the others… Their gear, they count on-”

Another hit. Another wave of sensation. Hunger. So much hunger. Like he hadn’t eaten for days, he hadn’t been drinking for days. And in return, that precum, so thick, so musky, so pungent… It was like ambrosia.

Winston licked his lips as a reflex, but shook his head.

“I- I cannot do that! I am not your mare! And I need to-”

Another.

Another wave of heat and desire. This time, it was like his body was on fire on top of the hunger. Sure enough, the hunger and thirst were the worst. But so were his nipples hard and warm, so was his asshole winking, and yet getting stroked by the constant AC pumping air in. And then, his cock was about to burst.

Yet… Imagining approaching his head to the cock, approaching his lips to that musky and steamy cock was making everything better, less painful to bear.

Winston blinked.

His field of vision was filled by that wide equine cock, with a flare that was prominent above the massive and dilated urethra, above the clearly defined flat end with bumps surrounding the constant flow of precum.

And then… Winston opened his mouth, let his tongue slip out, and… Gave a lick.

The temptation was too strong. And the result? Pleasure. It was like he couldn’t be thirsty anymore, like he couldn’t experience hunger anymore. The pain in his joints was stripped away, and the old wounds the same.

Remained then the pleasure as that salty precum coated his tongue and, in return, he had his tongue running along the flared end. He touched it, licked it… Sampled it. The sheer aroma, the sheer flavor that made his heart flutter, his chest feel fuller, and his cock burst with delight in his groin. He came?

“Do it. You want more, mare.”

Winston didn’t blink. He leaned further, pressed his mouth against the cocktip, against the urethra. And then… He sucked the air in, the precum in, until his lips formed a seal around the urethra and he swallowed… The liquid was so dense, but it was what he needed so badly.

He needed it, and a part of him wasn’t sure if it was Plato’s suggestion or his reality.

Nevertheless, he got another prodding. Another image: him choking on that cock and feeling that shaft throb inside his throat. An image followed by a sensation: bliss.

Bliss that was taken away the moment the image left, leaving Winston gasping and pulling his head back from the urethra. Bliss. He wanted it. He needed it. The old pain was back, the cravings, too. But the moment he opened his mouth to have the cock ushered in, he was feeling better. Much better.

It was probably Plato playing with his brain and fiddling with his sensations. But the result was quite efficient in the way Winston was like shot on heroin. His pain receptors were turned off. Remained only the sheer satisfaction, the pleasure, the heat that came from his guts, and the feeling like the universe had hugged him.

Yet, it was his mouth that was wrapped around that fat equine cock. His mouth was stretched beyond what is commonly admitted as natural. The constant flow of precum bloated his cheeks before his uvula was punched through, and his throat was throbbing.

He didn’t have a gag reflex; he didn’t feel any pain. Only the pleasure that made his groin heat up, spark, and then explode in pleasure.

His cock exploded on what remained of his ruined jumpsuit, coating Winston’s groin and the floor with gorilla cum.

But the thought of keeping his lab clean and himself tidy was gone. Remained the constant prodding, the waves of Plato’s thoughts that assaulted the Gorilla’s brain, showing him shoving his face against that groin.

And… Winston followed.

He forced through, feeling his body being stronger and more resilient than could be admitted, before that equine cock was firmly lodged inside his throat… The barrel was pressed against Winston’s forehead. As for the cocktip, he could feel it deep inside his chest, pressuring his lungs that could only receive a trickle of air.

Even then… Even then, Winston’s expression was blissful.

He was smiling stupidly, so stupidly it looked like he’d been lobotomized or something. Tears were streaming down his face while his cheeks were swollen beyond measure. His teeth were scraping against the oversized equine shaft, but they couldn’t even hurt or nick the skin due to the angle.

The only result was more pressure on that stud’s cock that moved along the hooves, stomping back and forth.

A huff. A wave of dissatisfaction hit Winston, suddenly yanking him back to the cold and cruel world. His body ached, his muscles ached, his guts ached. He was aware of the thousands of issues he’d been ignoring. His body shivered as if he’d been cutoff from his supply.

“Your mouth isn’t enough, mare,” snorted Plato, mind and body.

Winston couldn’t answer; his mouth filled and stuck. But his eyes widened in fear.

“Yeah. You don’t want to disappoint. Good Winston,” replied Plato to the fear.

And then, came another wave. Another set of imagery.

Winston pulled his mouth out of that shaft, despite all the throat slime sticking to the fat, greasy shaft. Then, the Gorilla was to be on all fours and press his wobbly ass against that cock.

Winston saw it, saw that massive cock being pressed against his back. No, worse, he could practically feel the heat and the weight pressed against his back.

And the joy that followed. A trail.

A trail of satisfaction that made him pull back. Fast, at first, before a part of him was aware of the danger it represented to his esophagus. Then slower, until with a suction sound, his throat relinquished the cock and the fat organ slipped out of Winston’s mouth.

Followed then the pleasure as Winston felt the cocktip rub against his tongue before, a second after, it was gone.

Gone… Removed. Erased.

And so, the Gorilla knew what to do.

“Pl-Please, use my asshole,” croaked Winston, reaching for his plump posterior as he quickly rolled and turned.

His shivering continued, and the pain in his joints flared when he was on his feet and hands.

But the mere idea of getting fucked, of the satisfaction he could ‘imagine’ was enough to drive him.

To push him to lower his head and chest, to lift his jiggly posterior until the massive cheeks were exposed… And then spread by the Gorilla’s oversized fingers.

“Good mare,” said Plato, rewarding Winston with a hint of bliss. A little dose of the peace of mind he was to get. And then taking it away.

But the result was for Winston to moan and groan louder while his fingers dug deeper into his plump buttcheeks to spread them open, to reveal the tight and virgin orifice. It was a tight pucker, star-shaped. Something that hadn’t been taken in any way, shape, or form before.

Something that was practically defenseless when the flared tip landed right against it, depositing a fat glob of musky precum against it.

“Y-yes! I’m a good mare! I’m a good mare!” replied Winston, eager for more.

“You are not a scientist. You are a mare.”

“You are right! I- I am a mare! Please! I am a mare! Not a scientist!”

“You’ll focus on me. Only on me and pleasuring me.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Only you! Please! Please! I need it!”

It was not absurd. It was expected, natural even. Now that Winston had reached bliss, he couldn’t even step back from it. Even if the source was removed, he would never forget that moment when, choking on a cock, he was at peace.

It was no different from the people who’d been hooked on the worst drugs created by mankind. But this time, for Winston, it was no drug. But his mind.

His mind craved peace, even at his own expense, when that equine shaft, practically a monster of throbbing flesh, was pressed against his tight entrance. He could have stepped away, fled. But no.

His posterior was lifted. He rubbed his rim against the cocktip, coating the sphincter with that musky and sticky precum.

It was from the Horse egging Winston on.

But it was not like the Gorilla had never thought about it.

Perverse and dirty thoughts had been found, dug out, and brought to the light. The perversion, the shameful ideas, the intrusive desires he had been bottling up about his sexuality.

And here it was… With that cock advancing and pressing on the orifice that was resisting, giving the barest resistance.

But it didn’t hurt. It didn’t Winston at all when he sensed that cocktip forcing through the sphincter, splitting it open, and invading his guts. It didn’t hit him like the ram currently pummeling his guts. It didn’t make him cry, so it would be such a sizeable shaft going down his asshole to the median ring.

Or… It did make him cry. But with tears of joy.

Winston teared up while his face was smashed against the ground, pushed forward by the Horse’s sheer strength, he put in penetrating his ‘mare’. And Winston was cumming, again… And again.

It was better than anything he’d imagined when watching porn. It was far more satisfying than masturbating with his hands or his feet. It was even better than the toy he bought a while ago.

That fat equine cock?

That fat organ reshaping his guts at that moment?

That fat rod that utterly wrecked his asshole and would make sure he wouldn’t be able to walk normally for a few days?

It was a blessing upon Earth. It was Love’s kiss. It was… Everything Winston had desired and yet was unaware of.

His eyes rolled, his mouth was a fountain of saliva, his breathing was quick and fast… Motivated by his orgasms and by the tremors shaking him.

Tremors produced by Plato continuously advanced and pulled back, narrowly dragging Winston along before he locked the Gorilla against a table.

Above, Plato continued to snort and throw his head left and back, finding it pleasing that hole that was taking more of his cock by the second, and that was tight. That was so tight because it hadn’t been trained to take such cock.

But the consideration went far overhead for the creature that had been feral before a few months ago… And remained so when he bucked, humped, and moved his hips to smack the cock against the inner walls.

“Mare!”

“Hrmphgl,” answered Winston, his tongue heavy as the cocktail of hormones was still going through his body even though he’d been stripped of that bliss.

He was in the painful mix of pleasure and hangover when the Horse called again.

“Mare! Lift your ass!”

“C-Can’t,” moaned Winston after trying to lift his ass more. His legs were locked and wouldn’t respond.

“I wish I had hands like you,” huffed the Horse, shaking his head. “Fine. I’ll do without.”

‘Do’ didn’t mean he could be satisfied in continuing what he’d been doing, meaning fucking Winston. With the Gorilla blocked between his shaft and the table, the Horse decided it was better… To pull back to the limit, narrowly yanking his throbbing equine cock out.

Then, the second after, the Horse thrust in.

Pleasure and joy flared through the Gorilla… And satisfaction through Plato’s body as he could feel that asshole tightening around his cock from that orgasm.

Winston’s cock exploded, most of his cumshot hitting his belly and chest before it dripped down onto his neck and chin. The liquid was sticky, dense, musky. But certainly nothing comparable to what Plato could produce, by any means.

However, it was a clear sign Winston was… Enjoying it. Was enthralled. No… Was giving his whole self to that pleasure that was, steadily, swallowing him.

That hole, that asshole, it gripped Plato’s cock like a vice grip at that moment.

Enough that it permitted the needy Horse to drag the Gorilla along. Plato had been waiting for such a hole, for such a ‘mare’ to use and abuse.

The hooves hit the floor with more intensity as Plato plowed that mare, dragging that despondent fleshlight across the floor.

With that, he even wiped the cum off the surface by rubbing Winton’s hairy self against it. And a huff of satisfaction came from the Horse, before another groan escaped Winston, and another cumshot followed.

Yet, the Horse wasn’t done. His cock remained hard, his testicles remained full. Worse, his groin seemed about to burst, and he was broadcasting that sensation.

A sensation that led to Winston’s many orgasms, to the ceaseless contractions. To the gargling and gurgling moans that shook the Gorilla until he looked and acted too stupid to react. Until he was nothing but a cumrag on the floor… And Plato indulged in the act of fucking that hole.

Plowing, using, and abusing until the pressure and pleasure built up in his groin reached its limit. Until the Horse, huffing and out of stamina, finally neighed.

He neighed loud and clear, throwing his head left and right when those testicles were pulled up… And the cock throbbed inside Winston.

A second later, something warm and dense poured deep within Winston’s guts. Something unmistakable when the Gorilla groaned and reached for his belly. However, even with his hand on it, the Mare couldn’t stop the liquid from pouring in, filling his guts, bloating them with that dense and heavy cum.

A cum that was starting to pile up, to force its way through the ruined guts, pushing back against Plato’s erection. An erection that remained firmly lodged within. An erection that continued to pump more and more within Winston, with no break. Without stops.

A gargle. That was Winston’s plea, his lips smacking and closing while the cum continued to be pumped inside him… Filling him. And with it, there was Plato’s satisfaction that beamed out of him, reaching the Gorilla’s mind.

Pleasure, satisfaction, intense joy, a feeling of liberation.

Of intense liberation that was etched inside Winston’s pliable mind when he was receiving all that cum, feeling that cock throbbing deep within him.

And he smiled. Winston smiled stupidly, his eyes rolling and tearing up as he was touching Bliss once more. One that was given as he was getting filled… As he felt the stench of cum in the back of his throat and some dripping from his ruined asshole.

He smiled more, heartily… And even chuckled when Plato pulled out… And smacked his dick inside once again… Once again, plowing Winston.

“We are not done, mare.”

-

“Aww. Winston. You could join us!”

“Sorry, Lena. I am swamped with the latest projects.”

“What? You are working on a new prototype with Mei? Can I see it?”

“No, not at all! Hehe! It is a project with Plato.”

“Ah.”

The sudden change in Tracer's attitude was noticeable. She went from a cheery smile to a pout, her cheeks puffy.

“Not fun! You’re always talking about him. It’s becoming an obsession, Winston!”

“It is,” answered Winston with a laugh. “He is my ‘pet’ project, after all.”

He even winked for the occasion, getting Lena to smile.

“Aww! Winston! You’re silly! But okay! I’ll tell Lucio and Juno you are busy.”

“Thank you! You are such a good friend!”

Winston waved his hand, watching as Lena turned and was already off. As for him, he hastily closed the door and pressed on the nearby touchpad to lock the door and the communications.

A mere press and then, Winston sighed.

His expression relaxed, his shoulders dropped.

His smile became natural as he strutted away from the door, reaching for his jumpsuit, which he undid. Underneath it, a few modifications had been made. All requests from Plato.

And so, from the Gorilla’s chest dangled the silvery horseshoe piercings he’d received, a token of appreciation.

“She’s gone?” asked Plato, his voice huffing.

“Yes, she is. She will be gone for the day.”

“Good. She’s a bother to my progress. I want her gone.”

“It is impossible. But I promise I’ll explain it to her. She must not stop me from working on your treatment.”

“She’d better understand, mare. Or you won’t have your horsecock.”

A shudder ran through Winston’s back, amplified by the sensations broadcast by the Horse. It wasn’t as powerful as the first time. But it had that quality, that refinement Plato had recently acquired. And all in targeting Winston, making him feel that craving, followed by the fear of being imprisoned.

Imprisoned without his drug, without his dose, with nothing from Plato.

That shudder was enough for Winston to lower his head in shame, bite his lips.

“I’ll make sure she understands,” nodded Winston, solemn while approaching.

“Good. I want to move things myself. Once I have my hands, you know what you’ll have to do.”

Winston knew full well as he approached the horse from behind, watching that muscular rump, that sweaty perineum… And that glimmering asshole once that tail was out of the way. Plato was munching, but it was no problem for Winston as he approached the clean orifice, passing a finger over it… And then kissed it.

The musky aroma was strong, but Winston covered that pucker with kisses.

It was his duty. His role. What he’d been ordered to do when he wasn’t working on Plato’s treatment. Lately, the drugs had given the Horse a relatively weak telekinesis, nothing more than moving hay with his mind. Something he delighted in doing.

But Plato wanted more.

Plato had to get more powerful, and so it would be Winston’s duty to improve him. Faster… Up until Plato would have his ‘hands’ and no longer needed Winston to do tasks for him.

But for the moment, Winston was glad to be in his hands. At least delighted to have the duty of licking and kissing his Master’s posterior, to lick it until it glistened, and then to enjoy the musky aroma emanating from that leathery skin.

Every lick was rewarded with a little shot of bliss. Every lick was another promise Winston would be wrecked like a good mare.

Like a good whore, who would bend over for that Horse. He would be fucked for hours, his head smacking against the floor or hard-pressed against a phantom mare. All so that Plato could be satisfied.

Even now, as Winston had his face pressed against the Horse’s rump, he could feel his asshole itch and burn. It always did, it always would. Ever since Plato took him, there was no day without feeling that itch. No hours without desiring one finger, and more, plunged deep within that rim.

But Winston couldn’t play with his asshole. No, his hands were to go on Plato’s oversized testicles, playfully teasing the veiny skin and lifting the burning orbs. He was to massage them, ensure those nuts were healthy, and constantly produce more nutbatter for him to choke on.

A delicious thought as Winston planted his tongue within that rim, wiggling to savor the musky flavor emanating from between the wrinkles.

“Mare.”

Winston pulled his head free.

With one thought, Winston had been sobering up, and he straightened his back, saluting.

“Yes, Master?” he asked, doubtful… Plato seemed thoughtful.

“It’s over.”

“Wh-What’s over?” asked Winston, blinking. Already, he felt the craving come over him. Shivers, quivers, cold. His body was feeling weaker just at the thought that this was over, that he couldn’t be stuffed with that horse spunk that had become his main diet.

“Your duties to Overwatch,” scoffed Plato, huffing while Winston felt the drive to go between the Horse’s legs, to be under that barrel, and to kiss that erect and profuse cock. A cock he kissed, he lovingly stroked, not even thinking about how fast he went for it. But the pleasure he felt when that cock fed him was without equivalent.

“From today, Mare, you’ll stop answering their calls. You do not belong to Overwatch, but to me. You will never work for them. But for me. You’ll be my mare to fuck and ruin.

“Are you-” asked Winston, only to wince, feeling the craving.

“Am I clear? Do you understand?”

“Yes,” nodded Winston, going over that shaft meekly. And yet, feeling… Better. Better as he was already fed his duties… As he knew what he had to do: cut contact, hide, and become his master’s Mare. Full-time.