Patreon Compilation – Fic#135 – Hank/Connor – virtual reality; centaur!Hank; front harness; massive insertion – Virtual Reality; Virtual Fun (Patreon)

Hank/Connor – Connor booked them a few hours in a virtual reality space that he manipulated just to his desires... which appears to be Hank in a horse body? Oh man that boy has too much time on the internet...

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“D-Damn, who would’ve thought that this virtual reality stuff has become so… uh…”

“Sophisticated?” Connor supplies helpfully in that even cadence that he has. Like he isn’t hugging Hank’s damn cock to his chest and rubbing his cheek against the tip like a fucking cat. Hank’s hind leg twitches, hoof hitting the ground with a dull thump.

He feels so weird being in an actual horse body. Connor had talked him into it for weeks and now this: him getting molested by the kid as if any of this were normal.

“Not really the word I had in mind,” he rasps. He feels so self-conscious in this body. His arms keep raising to cross over his chest before he lets them fall down to dangle at his sides again. Pretending he is not bothered about his fat old man torsy on this big stud body.

Connor has been the one to program this whole virtual reality space. He’s been the one making the conscious decision of not changing anything about Hank’s fat gut or his hairy man tits. It should be nice actually… Connor really does seem to get off on Hank being Hank – God knew why; his software probably is malfunctioning or some shit – but it still takes some getting used to.

He’s so in his head that Connor suddenly appearing in front of him has him startle and take a step back, his fat horse cock swinging between his twitching stomach. He still needs to get familiar with that as well. He had known that people could project themselves in all kinds of things in virtual reality. He had not known that you could actually feel your new body as well.

Connor’s brows are angled in a perfect little frown. He has downloaded a wide array of facial expressions just for the perfect occasions, but he sadly still looks like he has no idea what he is doing. It’s cute, though. Especially since he’s naked right now; beautiful and trim and young and so full of spunk…

Connor lifts his arms and curls them around Hank’s neck, pulling him down so he can suckle little kisses against his mouth and curl his fingers into his long, lanky hair. He really didn’t fuck around with anything, did he? Just put Hank’s fucking torso on a horse’s body and called it a day like he couldn’t think of anything hotter, anything better than Hank’s unwashed old man body.

“You are thinking too much, Hank. This is supposed to be a treat…” He frames Hank’s face in his hands to very seriously look at his face until Hank gives him a little nod. Connor is right. This is supposed to be a fun space, and he knows for a fact that the kid spent a lot of time and effort on all of this.

He should just be flattered.

Like how Connor’s hands seem to just instinctively move to his tots to dig into the soft flesh and card through the coarse hairs. Hank can feel his ears growing hot. He really wants to look away and make a gruff comment when Connor’s agile fingers find his nipples, big and soft and much more like a lady’s than he would like to admit to anybody. But he does not look away. He makes himself stare right into Connor’s youthful, beautiful face as he gets his gross body fondled by him, leaning into the feeling of his fat horse cock swinging beneath his belly.

“I’ll try, Connor,” he rasps.

Connor’s plump, perfect lips pull into a grin. It almost looks completely natural, but honestly… Hank is more addicted to it looking weird than anything else. It just makes Connor Connor.

Connor digs his mean little fingers into the soft pudge of Hank’s nipples until he hisses through his crooked teeth and lightly stumps his hoofs. This virtual reality body feels more like his own by the second. He should just have gotten into it from the get-go and not be so weird about it all…

Like how when he finally opens his eyes again, his hands on Connor’s shoulders, ready to push him away if he got even ruder with his sensitive tits, he doesn’t wonder too hard about the weird harness the cyborg is suddenly wearing. Things don’t have to follow any particular logic here. It is the fun of this whole experience.

Connor throws him a look then leans in one last time to give him a kiss and rub his hands over Hank’s stomach before he vanishes back to play with the massive cock he’s programmed onto Hank’s horse body.

Hank exhales sharply. He can’t help the way his hoof stomps the ground when Connor kisses his cock as if he’s making out with it. He also can’t help how his body is moving all on its own to try and bear down and shove the horse dick into Connor’s little mouth.

He wonders how much of that is just him being overwrought by what is happening, and how much is Connor having programmed this shit. He keeps underestimating just how lewd the cyborg can be. The shit Connor gets up to in that brilliant little head of his-

“Holy- fuck!”

There suddenly is a warm, tight feeling all around his cock; as if something had just glitched its way onto him, not preparing him in the least for the overwhelming sensation of what amounts to a pocket pussy. Hank jumps forward, nearly getting disoriented by just how far his new body can move in a split second. The feeling on his cock does not vanish.

“Connor!”

“H-Hank-”

Hank’s immediate anger softens when he hears Connor’s rough gasp from around him. He can feel the sensation of two arms trying to hug around his belly. Not his belly… the other belly.

Twisting awkwardly, Hank just about manages to glimpse the decidedly surreal sight of Connor having suspended himself from him via a harness, keeping himself perfectly in line for Hank’s horse cock.

“W-What are you doing?” he asks with a rasp in his voice. His heart… hearts?... are racing. Awkwardly, Hank makes his way over to the next tree that Connor had programmed into their little virtual reality session, insanely aware of both the feeling of Connor speared on his dick, and the sound of the cyborg’s glitched little hiccups that he has already found out were his way of moaning.

“Isn’t this exciting? I thought you might enjoy this, so I programmed a few bugs in so we could just… get to the fun part.”

Connor’s whole insides squeeze down on Hank’s cock in a way no human body would be able to do. For a moment, his sight wavers a little as he stares at the bark of the tree. Everything looks and feels so very realistic. He can even feel the pain as he digs his fingers into the trunk in an effort to ground himself.

His four legs are apart like a newborn foal’s, knees trembling just from the overwhelming feeling of Connor strapped to him like that. There’s no way for him to remove him either. He just has to deal with the feeling of his cock encased in the most damnable sheath.

It’s its own kind of delicous torture.

“Do you like it, Hank?”

God, Connor’s voice. How it is glitched just so; right on the razor edge of ecstasy. Hank can’t even imagine how it must feel to be filled with horse cock so much that he probably had to shift some internal machinery around just to fit it all.

God… He bears down without much thought. It does not change anything. He can neither push deeper into Connor, nor can he pull back any. He is stuck with his personal little cocksleeve that is about to fry his last remaining brain cells better than any alcohol could have done.

“Do you like it?” Connor asks again. Damn him and his stupid fucking need to hear from Hank what a perfectly good boy he is… and damn Hank for his massive boner whenever he does and sees how pleased Connor gets from it.

“I love it,” he rasps. “You’re such a filthy bastard… but I goddamn love it.”

He reaches down with a trembling hand, searching for Connor’s head that is about between his front legs. He lightly cards his thick fingertips through it while Connor makes a sound not unlike a purring cat. His insides do that thing again where they squeeze down on his cock.

“Can you walk around a bit more?”

He can’t very well deny him, can he? His legs feel like they are about to give out on him, but he starts to make his way around the little field anyway, feeling how Connor his hanging on to him like a tick, his insides trembling and squeezing until Hank can’t hold it anymore. He hasn’t even done a whole lap before he almost goes to one knee, his fat horse balls having drawn up to his body as he comes in thick spurts, filling Connor up like a goddamn water balloon.

He can feel Connor’s stomach swelling against his own, for Christ’s sake.

“I b-booked it f-for a few more hours… l-lets just stay like that,” Connor rasps in a feeble, glitched-out voice.

Honestly, Hank couldn’t even deny him if he tried. He has no idea how to log out of this thing anyway.