Reward for my Eternal Friend patron (Patreon)

McCree/Zenyatta – centaur McCree; Faunyatta; Zenyatta bound beneath McCree's belly as a cockwarmer; kind of rapey

Zenyatta is nothing but a trophy for the centaurs, and McCree makes sure that he knows his position without a doubt.

He is bleating pathetically the first few hours speared on the massive cock of the herd’s chief, but eventually he just has to admit defeat, his little faun legs dangling beneath him, not reaching the ground by a long shot while McCree trots through the forest and looks for more unsuspecting wildlife to dominate.

McCree’s hoofs are absolutely massive, but Zenyatta had to find that he can put them down with the utmost care. After all, he’d been able to sneak up on the faun without Zenyatta being any the wiser until the big shadow had suddenly darkened his day and made his quickly weaving fingers pause on the little flower crown he had started on.

Tears are still dripping down his cheeks, but there really is nothing for it. McCree had found him and caught him, and he is using his new pet fair and square.

The stallion’s belly is big and firm and warm in Zenyatta’s back. He is bound quite snugly underneath; a neat little package posing as nothing more than the chief’s cock warmer as he trudges through the forest.

“Hmm… didn’t think that fluffy little ass could stretch so nicely,” he suddenly hears McCree above him. The forest ground stops moving in front of his bleary gaze, and Zenyatta realizes that McCree has come to a stop.

He shudders when the stallion inhales deeply, his big firm belly extending and making Zenyatta’s back arch with it. It moves the cock lodged deep inside Zenyatta’s own guts, and the sensation has stars explode in front of his eyes.

He bleats softly, but it is not the desperate cry for help that it had been hours prior.

McCree chuckles and blindly fumbles down between his front legs until he touches one of Zenyatta’s little horns. He reaches over and tweaks one of his ears surprisingly gentle.

“Hey now… You’re not a sore loser, are ya?” he drawls. Zenyatta just blinks slowly. He can’t see anything much, and does not know how to answer this. He does not know that McCree is bracing himself on a sturdy oak tree, but he does notice that his strong hind legs are dancing a bit apart for more leverage.

He starts moving awkwardly then, flexing his hips downwards, making his huge breeding balls gently move against Zenyatta’s behind. Zenyatta has no idea what he’s doing until of course he feels the fat horse cock move inside him and bulge his soft little tummy with the flat, flared tip.

His mouth opens but no sound comes out. Instead, his tongue is lolling, saliva slowly dripping to the ground while McCree groans above him like he is relieving himself.

“That’s real nice… hadn’t had a cute little sleeve like you in a damn while…”

One of his massive hoofs lifts and stomps back on the ground. Zenyatta can feel it gently vibrate through his body, and it has all the hair and fur on his body stand up.

McCree keeps moving, slowly shifting and flexing, awkwardly fucking his cock through the guts of the poor fawn bound beneath his belly.

When he comes, Zenyatta can’t hear it, but he certainly feels it. He bleats again, long and drawn out as he feels his belly bulging; the strain in the skin as he is pumped full of ribbon after ribbon of cum.

McCree sighs then and starts moving again like nothing has happened. His cock is still lodged deep inside Zenyatta; it shows no sign of slipping out of him; but instead, Zenyatta’s little belly is now swinging beneath him as if he’s pregnant, gurgling and heavy and making his eyes want to roll up into his head as his body starts to connect what is happening to what makes him usually feel good.

Oh dear… oh boy…

McCree’s patrol is not done for a few hours yet, and he still has a few more loads to pump into the little fawn.