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Part 1 (this part)

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McCree/Hanzo – werehorse!Hanzo; abuse; massive insertion; skull fucking – Hanzo got hit with chemicals and his body changes.

(I tried to put in a bit of the transformation + a bit of the actual fucking. The part where the fucking begins is rushed because I really wanted that skullfucking in there, so just... ignore the whys and hows pwease!)

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Baptiste looks up from the readings of the machine he is working with, throwing Hanzo an intense gaze and looking him up and down.

“You are not feeling different? Not a little bit?”

Hanzo shakes his head mutely as he sits on the examination table and passively watches the ongoing proceedings. Baptiste rubs his chin, brows furrowed.

“Well alright… maybe the serum you got injected with through the dart simply doesn’t work on you. I will have to do more research on the dart you brought with you, though… damn, I would love to get my hands on that guy to question him some. It’s a bummer he escaped.”

The corners of Hanzo’s mouth turn down. He doesn’t like being reminded of his failure to pin the subject down. Baptiste either notices his mood dipping or just wants to quickly get on with his research because he adds with a wave of his hand: “You can go, agent. But the second you notice something changing, you report back. You hear me?”

“Yes,” Hanzo says tersely and slides off the examination table to leave.

In his defense, he had not been lying when he assured Baptiste of his cooperation. He really would have gone back to him if he had noticed anything, but by the time Hanzo realizes his abnormal behavior, it is already too late.

The others habitually spend little time around him, knowing that he is not a sociable person, which makes noticing his own behavior a bit more tricky than it would normally be.

It doesn’t occur to him that his thought processes are starting to get jumbled and more… rudimentary. The change is quick and at the same time creeping, having him devolve from a normally functioning human being to something more… feral… in a matter of… he doesn’t know. Short.

Short. He is hungry. He prowls the hallways of the base, instinctively making sure not to cross paths with anyone as he follows the knowledge he has into the kitchen. He is ravenous. There is fur on his arms and all over his body, itching beneath his clothes.

He feels trapped in his body in a way that he hasn’t felt in years… decades. Something is not right, but the thought of reporting to Baptiste is a very distant one. He can barely remember the medic. He can barely remember anything past the knowledge that he is so impossibly hungry.

He doesn’t even know what he is stuffing into himself. He just has to fill the void brought on by a transformation beyond his control. His body needs energy, and it needs it now, even though his motoric skills devolve so fast that he soon has to just stick his head into the huge bucket of cereal to dig in and eat his fill.

He can hear the sound of fabric ripping, even swivelling his ears into the direction of it, but doesn’t really compute that it comes from him, produced by his body changing rapidly now. There’s the voice of someone shouting. A human.

Hanzo pulls his head out of the bucket and bends his long neck to look behind him at the intruder standing there with huge eyes and a gaping mouth.

.o.

“Hanzo… hey! Hanzo!” Jesse doesn’t even know if there is enough of Hanzo in the pony to call out to, but he tries his best anyway. The creature Hanzo has become is small and stout and pretty but also… surprisingly feral.

It doesn’t behave like any of the horses Jesse has worked with, that is damn sure. He’d thought it would be easy to catch Hanzo and drag him to the medbay, but he founds it within… seconds, really, that that is not an option.

Hanzo as a pony is just as much a bastard as Hanzo as a human. He shakes off the rest of his clothes that his body has ripped to Hell during the transformation Jesse had been unfortunate enough to witness the tailend of. Not a pretty sight, no matter how gorgeous the stout pony now was.

He is… honestly not sure how he ends up beneath Hanzo’s round belly, trapped between him and a table. He’d thought he’d be more than able to overpower a damn pony, but as with so many things, Hanzo has to make shit difficult.

But he seems to know perfectly what he wants. Like to ram his pony cock down Jesse’s throat.

Vaguely he is thankful that Hanzo is not bigger than he actually is. He doesn’t think his jaw would’ve been able to take anything larger than the pony cock raping past his glottus and down his throat, cutting off any and all air.

If Hanzo is still in there somewhere, it must be buried deep beneath the animal he has become. There is no hesitation; no consideration for the man getting skull fucked on the black horse cock. Just the fat testicles of the pony slapping against his chin and throat while it forces its way down his oesophagus far past the point that he would thought possible.

Black spots from lack of oxygen dance in front of his eyes. The little stallion rams down his throat again and again, filling all his senses with cock.

When he comes, it is an experience like nothing else Jesse has ever felt. It’s like the pony’s dick has been knocking right against the opening to his stomach, pumping out cum right down into his belly until he feels absolutely bloated with it. He can feel the fat testicles pulsing against his chin.

Of course Hanzo as a horse would be just goddamn demonic. Jesse’s never been so ruthlessly skull fucked. He can feel the pony’s cum sloshing in his stomach, and still it pumps more and more down his gullet. His head hurts from lack of oxygen. He feels like he is going to pass out.

In fact, when Hanzo finally pulls back, cock dragging out of him seemingly endlessly, he thinks he might black out for a few seconds because the next time he is aware of his surroundings, he is lying on the ground, a pool of drool and pony cum having been oozing from his mouth while Hanzo is nowhere to be seen around him.

Holy shit.