Over-Sow Project for Betterment of Talon Organization [Overwatch]

Summary: During the recall of Overwatch, Brigitte and Reinhardt fall victim to a preemptive strike plan by Talon that concerns remaking female Overwatch members into sexualized breeders incapable of thinking about anything other than being fucked. Via an experimental compound, Brigitte is warped into a sweaty, thick-bodied version of herself and forces Reinhardt into repeated breeding sessions after his body is 'enhanced' to match hers.

Credit: Tastatura

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Amongst the administrative staff of Talon, news of Overwatch's intention to recall its most storied operatives and resume operation worldwide was understood as the presentation of two options for their organization's future: a head-on confrontation with their enemies reminiscent of the days-of-old, or a last-ditch attempt at tipping the scales of this confrontation before it could begin in earnest.

By coincidence, the timing of the intel that they received regarding Overwatch's plans found them best situated for the former. In the time that had passed since the peak of their conflict with Overwatch's operatives, a number of small-scale operations carried out under the cover of civil conflicts within Central Asia resulted in their procuring a surplus of experimental agricultural technologies 'well suited for reconfiguration into bio-weapons.

In particular, a series of experimental growth hormones intended for accelerated livestock growth stood out to Talon as a particularly valuable tool with regards to their ends. Codenamed 'R', it was decided that all of the preparatory overhead that their intel earned them would be invested into turning these compounds into a single aggregate suitable for use in humans. After a brief R&D period required to calibrate the compound for the human body, the first (and only) trial phase for compound R-17—a proprietary codename chosen for the inclusion of all 17 of the hormones they had procured—was carried out with Talon operative Windowmaker as its sole subject.

Not including her expendability, Widowmaker's selection was made on the basis of her gender. As the majority of the hormones procured were geared towards enhancing the fertility of 'sows' that one might find within the average barn, it was decided amongst the higher-ups that R-17's 'purpose' as a bioweapon would be the invalidation of Overwatch's female operatives ahead of their return to service. Specifically, they intended to warp the lithe, taut, and effective women that plagued them so into those of sexualized 'breeders' incapable of thinking about anything other than their own insemination. This in mind, Widowmaker's participation in the trial was perceived by them as a necessity; without a disposable tool with which to gauge R-17's effectiveness, their plan would fall apart before it ever began.

Miraculously, the pressures of their circumstance reaped a diamond of success. After a single injection with their first finished product, an evening of transformative discomfort for Widowmaker engorged the feminine svelteness of her frame into the sort of padded, uselessly sexual mess that they had hoped for.

Perfectly and proportionally, her thighs were swelled into fat-dominated cinderblocks, her breasts into puffy, perspiration-glazed dough sacs of flesh that dwarfed rounded couch cushions in scale, and her buttocks into jiggling, fat-infused boulders want to ripple and bounce with the slightest shift of her frame. Even the femininely slanted curvature of her hips was affected as intended. Flared and softened with fertile curvature in accordance with the succulent excesses of flesh added throughout her frame, the same fertility showcased in her bust and rear was projected through them in excess.

In commemoration of their successes, Talon moved from the testing of their compound directly into its application. Upon surveying the predicted travel routes of the operatives recalled to Overwatch headquarters, it was decided that Brigitte—and through her, Reinhardt—would serve as her first target. Dispatched with several doses of R-17 alongside contingent doses of its untested male variant, those at Talon's helm readied themselves for notification of Widowmaker's success, or the absence of notification altogether.

If Widowmaker succeeded in her mission, the debilitation of the rest of Overwatch's core members could continue. If she didn't, the only thing that they stood to lose was initiative in another conflict with their enemies—

A single step along a path that promised to wind and bend for years to come.

-

OVERWATCH RECALL ROUTE SAFEHOUSE—VIETNAM

Niggling discomforts were a part of life for Reinhardt. After nearly half a century spent exerting his body in a manner that very few men were capable of, a degree of wear-and-tear was to be expected and embraced. Content to forget them as soon as he felt them, any sensation that did not amount to the degradation of his combat capacity was ultimately forgotten by his psyche so as to preserve its stability.

Now over 50-years-of-age, this process was effectively automatic for him. In accordance with this, the appearance of a dull throb inside his groin mere hours after he and his godchild arrived within their latest temporary residence was pushed out of his mind seconds after he recognized it. Believing it to be a consequence of the stifling humidity of the local environment and the absence of proper air-conditioning within their residence, he participated in his usual battery of calibrations and repairs for his armor with Brigitte with the expectation that the following day would see the sensation disappear.

It didn't.

Awoken by the discomfort within his innards just shy of dawn, Reinhardt wrenched his sweat-drenched musculature upright in bed and motioned to draw his bedsheets off of his crotch.

Partway through the gesture, he paused. Stifled by the flesh-drenching humidity of his bedroom, the first few breaths of musk-weighted air that he drew into his lungs tightened the brawn of his frame into an abrupt (but complete) halt…

Or so it seemed.

Moments before chalking up his body's disobedience to fatigue, Reinhardt felt compelled to turn his line of sight towards the mouth of his bedroom and sharpen his breathing ever so slightly.

There, the true cause for his debilitation stood without anything to obscure it—

And he didn't even know it.

"Reinhardt…" voice breathy and thin, a naked and visibly sweat-glazed Brigitte pushed these words through her lips whilst an intoxicated smile spread across her lips. "S-Something's....I think something's wrong with me…"

"I dunno what it is, but I-I know you can fix it. I can feel it—"

"Everything inside me is saying that the only thing I need to worry about is your stinking, sweat-greased d-dick…♥"

Upon laying eyes on Brigitte, several sensations washed over Reinhardt in sequence. Initially surprised at her decision to sneak into his room, then shocked by the words that had come out of her mouth, processing it all wrenched his bearded maw open in retort almost immediately.

Before he could speak, a third sensation hit him. After only a second spent taking in the fattened, gleaming, hormone-smeared bloat of her frame, both his desire to speak and his capacity for it were wrenched from him all at once.

He couldn't help himself. Mere feet ahead of him, the once toned and towering woman that he had watched develop since her infancy stood reduced to a mass of irresistible sexuality potent enough to turn the throbbing pain at his crotch into an addictive pleasure.

If not for her face and ponytail-drawn hair, she would've been unrecognizable. Below facial features glossed with a modest sheet of sweat and kissed with an aroused flush, the bronzed skin of Brigitte's upper body bled down into breasts whose scale dwarfed her skull by several times.

Attributing measurements to them required several seconds of thought from him. Each comparable to a wobbling boulder of sweat-dewed fat kept perky and buoyant by female hormones, Reinhardt initially settled for assessing them as 'massive'. In spite of this, his eyes lingered at the mounds so as to burn every cock-fattening quality that they maintained into his brain.

Gum-drop-rounded and taut in spite of their appearing completely natural (as opposed to enhanced by implantation), both of the greased sacs hung to a depth that set their undersides ahead of Brigitte's now fat-framed abdominals.

The fact that their sloping was held here was a miracle. Seconds into his stare at her chest, measurements thrown out by Reinhardt's mind marked them as exceeding a J-Cup in overall scale (likely between an K or L Cup if one were to apply typical measurements to them), and as maintaining over 50 inches of sweat-dewed underbust.

Some part of his stunned psyche argued that the mounds remained larger than he could comprehend without first-hand measurement. Fortunately, further thought on the subject was cut out of his priorities by the salience of her breasts' other qualities.

At their faces, meaty, milk-duct studded areola spread outward to the width of a spread palm such that her breasts almost seemed dominated by them. Whereas some were thicker and more rounded in their spread around her nipples, all of them sat in the midst of leaking mud-thick cream out through to staining descents along the lower half of Brigitte's breasts.

Jarringly, the center of these leaking patches were dominated by a pair of thick, tube-shaped cylinder nipples fattened by arousal. Effectively a pair of 4-inch long, forearm-thick cow teats that begged to be smothered within the span of one's hand, the sheer amount of heated cream that drooled out of the ducts riddling their exteriors inspired Reinhardt's core to imagine Brigitte's breasts as the udders of a fertile (and heated) sow.

Driven by the yearnings of the monstrous organ at his crotch, his seconds-long ogle of Brigitte's chest was supplanted by a search for further proof of her whorishness.

Below the fat-padded studding of her abdominals, they found precisely what they were looking for. As Brigitte had appeared ahead of his door with her hands huddled at her midsection (thereby covering the succulent state of her middle and obscuring the newly-fashioned slopes of fat-padded curvature at her hips), Reinhardt next drank in the sex-fattened state of her days-unshaven cunt, and the gleaming puffiness attained by her thighs.

Despite having last seen her crotch during her infancy, the over-fattened squishiness of its base immediately struck him as abnormal. Further, the inverted triangle of thick, ginger-colored pubic hair that covered the region stood out to him as contrary to the average young woman's sensibilities. Overgrown enough to completely obscure the span of her pelvis from view, the curls' domination of the lower 'V' of her crotch and the presence of dense curl jungles at the opposing edges of her inner thighs flavored Brigitte's nakedness with the unkempt sloppiness of an overworked whore.

Though he could not see exactly where the spread of her hair ended, the thickness of the stretches atop her lower lips suggested that a trail of hair had grown below it as well. Typically indifferent with regards to the state of a woman's pubic hair, the attention that Reinhardt's eyes directed at Brigitte's was influenced by the engorged state of her mons. Likely as a result of her arousal—or perhaps something else entirely—both her lower lips and all of the hair-smothered flesh that surrounded them appeared as though a ripened melon of mushy flesh had been stuffed underneath them.

Now protruding away from the baseline of her crotch by nearly 3 inches, the overripened swell that her mound maintained seemed liable to erupt into a flowing cascade of cuntsyrup at any given moment. Further, the matted excess of dense curls set atop it were made to seem somehow fuller as a result of their framing by the bare flesh of her thighs. Because of these things, taking his eyes away from the hairy state of her crotch was made a two-pronged task that included disregarding the obvious and disregarding his libido.

If not for the state of Brigitte's thighs, Reinhardt's libido may well have kept his eyes at her cunt indefinitely. Much like her midsection, all of the muscular indentations and rigidity that had once defined Brigitte's thighs sat smothered by alluring amounts of fat and flesh. Thickened, and more importantly softened by doughy bloat, their state finalized the conclusion that Reinhardt had come to upon finishing with her breasts:

Somehow, the Brigitte that he was accustomed to had been reduced to a human female sow suited solely for breeding.

By virtue of its outlandishness, this conclusion ultimately served a dual purpose—

As soon as Reinhardt finished processing it, the silent stillness that had consumed him disappeared.

"B-Brigitte? What the hell? What happened to you?" aggressively rotating in his seat atop the bed, Reinhardt draped his legs over the left side of his mattress and very nearly stood upward after the fact.

"Someone must have—a toxin or—s-something's not right with you!" he continued. "Hold right there! Once I'm up, we'll have you looked at. I'll be damned if I let some spineless surprise attack get th better of—

"Guohhh!"

Mid-utterance, Reinhardt paid the price for his inability to stand. As a result of his shift across his mattress, the soaked bedsheet covering his lower body was peeled off of him for good. Without it to cover his crotch, the source of all of the pressure and discomfort at his groin was exposed to the musk-drenched air of his bedroom once and for all.

To Brigitte, this was a cue to move forward. Compelled to surge in towards her godfather the moment his towering, foreskin-wrapped, and now disgustingly-unwashed erection was allowed to begin pouring its sour, semen-soaked stench into the air, all of the internal discomfort that had caused her to shudder at Reinhardt's door lost its importance to her.

Comparatively, Reinhardt's cock became all too important. The moment her eyes fell on the 16-inch tower of cockflesh and the obese tendril blood vessels coiled around the tree root-fat bloat of his urethra, her mind was denied the ability to process anything else.

As her eyes slipped past the tower's root, the hairy, cantaloupe-sized testicles that constituted his sac accomplished the same. Gravid with semen and exteriorly greased with a mixture of sweat and filth, the 9-inch spheres offered a virility that even an equine breeding stud couldn't match.

From the moment she finished taking in these things, imagining the kneecap-thick girth of his cock digging into one of her holes and abusing its meat whilst his testicles battered her crotch became one of several stimulating distractions for her. Beyond this, tracing her eyes along the smegma-fattened sleeve of foreskin flesh that enveloped its grapefruit-scale glans and the flecks of dingy yellow, pube-riddled smegma that extended upward from its rim enthralled her to the extent that muted splutters of cuntsyrup were pushed from her folds for every second that she stared.

Finally, but not insignificantly, appreciating the glaze of sweat and cockfilth caked atop every inch of the pulsing organ was intoxicating for her. Through it, she was tempted into silently snorting at the air like a sow all throughout Reinhardt's stammered address—this so that she might stain her nostrils with the rancid, semen-and-urine-based musk that teemed from its pores.

To an extent, her preference for this stink was instrumental in driving her forward. At the end of her surge up to Reinhardt, Brigette briefly descended into a squat ahead of his shaft's underside for the sole purpose of mushing her nostrils against the greasy underside of his cock. On contact, she rubbed her nostrils (and her lips by proxy) up and down the stinking fleshtower for several seconds whilst noisily snorting the stench up into her sinuses.

Emboldened by brain-melting stink, escalating her ingress came naturally. Within a few seconds of huffing, a wobble-inducing snap back to her feet ended with her forcing Reinhardt down back first by his shoulders on her way to a tip-toe set squat directly above his crotch.

Here, all of the changes that had taken place within her mind and body became too real for Reinhardt to ignore.

"S-Sorry, Reinhardt...I just don't really care about anything you're talking about right now..." Brigette began, lips spread into a predatory smile. "Your cock reeks so good I can't think straight! S-So…"

"So don't worry, ok? If you can't use your body right now, you can just rely on me. I'll fuck ever drop of smelly dicksludge you've built up inside yourself out myself if have to..."

"Just you watch~!"

Following her declaration, Bridgette left no room for doubt as to her intentions. Adjusting the position she had assumed to her advantage, she invested a few seconds into aligning the bloated fullness of her lust-smeared cuntlips to a position directly above the filth-caked nose of Reinhardt's cock.

Set, she drank in the size disparity between her engorged womanhood and her godfather's overstuffed glans and hungrily slurped her tongue along her lips before plunging her hips downwards. Utilizing all of her meat-padded body weight and what remained of her thighs' musculature, she viciously skewered the leaking mouth of her cunt down along Reinhardt's cock right to its grossly vein-studded midway point.

Having denied the pliant congestion of her inner walls any time with which to acclimate to the organ's hole-ruining girth, Brigette's sexual mania forced the squirming sleeve to adopt a 'sink or swim' mentality. Spreading and squirting in response to the wiggling and pumping that Brigette produced in the wake of her dive, every inch of cockflesh introduced into her depths from this point onward was subjected to sensations akin to a ravenous, slime-riddled suckled.

When the ridiculous, fat-infused roundness of her buttocks finally clapped down against Reinhardt's crotch, nothing changed. Inundated from its cushioned bloat of its mouth right down to the tented pudginess of the cervix at its end, every inch of her womanhood sat committed to huddling in against the double-wide cockveins lining the organ whilst simultaneously drenching the trunk that maintained them with cuntsyrup.

In the moment, Brigette could not bring herself to appreciate any of the feats that her cunt had managed. Taken up by the distension of her gut by cockflesh and the stinging satisfaction that her hilt had provided her, reproducing the sensations she had enjoyed and earning some of the rancid sludge contained within her godfather's balls were made out as far more important than anything her folds could achieve.

In pursuit of these things, she corrected herself. Dragged her eyes from their pleasure-struck stare at the peak of their sockets, she pushed her line of sight down to Reinhardt's abdominals, then raised both of her palms up into firm braces atop her bent kneecaps.

With the stability that she acquired, Brigette immediately applied herself to deep, half-length squats up and down along Reinhardt's over-swollen member. Beginning with a half-length rise from out of her hilt, she wrenched inch after inch of the vascularly armored trunk from her folds' suckling confines until only its top half remained within her.

The longing that this created within her demanded that she plunge the fattened meat of her crotch right back down into position as quickly as she could. Nevertheless intent on properly 'fucking' the gutting fleshtower inside of her, the second hilt that she produced arrived after she contracted her cunt's slobbering bloat in against Reinhardt's cock.

*PLAPP~!*

Before the greasy wobble of her asscheeks imposed by her impact could subside, her squatting metronome surged into potency. At a pace that only an unabashed and internally modified whore could hope to match, Brigette repeatedly volleyed between upward compressions of her quads and shameless dumps of her cunt down along Reinhardt's cock. Producing elongated *GLRHLLLLRP~* noises with the former and a manic chain of sweat-greased *PLAPP!*(s) with the latter, the musk-choked air of the bedroom was soon complimented by a sexual symphony befitting its foulness.

Unsurprisingly, the slurping and spewing her cunt produced were not the only things that contributed to the room's music. Early on into her squatting session, Brigitte's indifference towards the new state of her body left the undersides of her breasts free to flop in and out of contact with her upper abdominals in time with her motions. No less gravid with nutrient-fattened cream than they had been minutes prior, each *CLOPP!*-inducing impact sent heavy gushes of the bittersweat substance jetting from the milkducts of both of her mounds at regular intervals. Contents allowed to soak her breasts in a manner very different from the sweat that already coated them, it did not take long for the volume that they added to her breasts' clapping to choke the room with a genuine mess of sexual noises.

Too drunk on stimulation to appreciate even this, a few seconds of cervix-bruising squats coaxed Brigette into pursuing further stimulation for herself, and more importantly, for Reinhardt.

Deep down, she felt that she had to. Despite stroking the syrup-glutted meat of her folds up and down along his girth like a masturbation sleeve, she had yet to earn even a drop of chunked semen for her womb—

If this continued, her estimation of herself as a woman would only sink further.

"Doitdoitdoit Blast smelly cockjuice right into my womb, Reinhardttttttt ♥!" voice strained and perverse, Brigette forcibly organized her drooling maw into speech whilst sliding her gaze up towards Reinhardt's eyes. "Clog me full of semen—you've always wanted to, n-now's your chance! You've got'a young, fat-breasted cocksleeve slam-fucking her cunt along your cock, s-so why should you care about anything else?"

"Just breed me! Spew disgusting dickmilk into my cunt and make my ovaries choke on it—pump me so full o-of cockjuice that it turns my abs into mush ♥."

"Cumcumcumcumcum~!!"

In the 'coherence' that Brigette managed throughout her address was further proof of the depravity that motivated her. Throughout it, just over half of Reinhardt's cock was dragged back and forth through her cunt at a pace that should have debilitated her.

Whereas a given plunge ground its over-fattened, near-palm-width urethra in against the bloat of her cunt's ceiling (this whilst the trunk's sex-greased girth oppressed the squirming inner lining of her folds), a single ascent from her squatted hilt destroyed the pressurized 'hold' that her folds squeezed down along his member. In order, this subjected her cunt to feelings of invasion and subjugation from the smothering of her cuntflesh, and a cloying need created as the meat of her cunt lingered (i.e., clung) to the swell of Reinhardt's cock throughout her ascents.

To say nothing of the fact that her midsection remained visibly engorged by a log-shaped outline of cockflesh at all times, the stimulation that Brigette was enduring should have reduced her to a mess of squealing and drooling.

However, it hadn't—

And Reinhardt was forced to take notice.

"...Cockjuice, eh? You want some of the squirming sludge my body's been making?" abruptly loosening his tooth-grit maw into a semblance of a grin, Reinhardt defied the stupefaction Brigette's cunt had forced onto him with an attempt at confirmation.

Up until this point, any more than this would have been beyond him. Overcome equally by the 'relief' that her cunt had created for his erection's overstuffed throbbing and the fact that it was Brigette's cunt that was providing it to him, conscious thought lost all appeal to him. In comparison, laying back whilst the grease and smegma caked to his cock was replaced by a sheen of cuntsyrup was simply too enjoyable for him to pass up.

Initially, not even the progressive wadding of heat and pressure at his cockroot was enough to rouse him from this state.

However, Brigette's squealing was different. The moment her strained requests hit his ears, an injection of desire into the core of Reinhardt's brain reconnected him to the 'full scale' of the circumstance he was enjoying.

Subsequently, giving Brigette everything that she needed and more consumed his mind in the same way stimulation had—

The only difference was what came of it.

"Awright, then! Ya've got a load of work ahead of ya, but why wait? If you're squealing like a sow, s'best that I feed you, isn't it?" Reinhardt grunted. "Get ready to take my cockjuice, Brigette! An' don't you dare loosen that cunt 'till it's all out!"

Heralded by Reinhardt's declaration was a display of physical control influenced by feral desire. Engaging his abdominals, he sat upward at an angle and held himself in position whilst snapping the ogrish-span of his palms up towards Brigette's chest. Without any sort of reservation, he then folded his palms around the massive, milk-spewing tubes of nipple-flesh mounted at their faces and squeezed down against them to force dense gushes of the substance out against his palms.

Through this, he earned a very significant set of responses from Brigitte as well.

"Guuuhhhhhuuuu♥~! M-Milk's squirtin' ouuuut ♥!" squealed Brigette. "G-Gonna cum ♥. P-Please gimme your babyjuice soon, Reinharddddtt!"

Dragged deeper into sexual euphoria by the satisfying eruption of breastmilk from her nipples, Brigette briefly redoubled her squatting effort in hopes of making her godfather orgasm before she did. Lowering the height of her squats to mere inches, she hungrily bounced and flicked the oppressive fat of her ass up and down against Reinhardt's crotch to create an orgasmic grind of his glans against the face of her cervix.

Far from immune to the grating stimulation that was squeezed into her cuntflesh as a result, any 'success' that she earned from her ministrations promised to introduce even more feral 'simplicity' into her brain.

But she didn't care. Unable to focus on anything unrelated to the clopping of her soaked breasts against the meat of her abdominals and the gutting reorganization of her innards by Reinhardt's cock, she threw herself into the effort as though it was the last thing that she'd ever do.

Appropriately, her dedication earned her a reward:

Tangible proof of her status as a set of holes worth fucking.

"GRAHHHHH!"

Following the eruption of a bestial bellow from Reinhardt's throat, a timely upward thrust from his crotch slotted every inch of his cock up to a snug hilt inside Brigette's cunt. Supplemented by force generated from the tips of his toes, the blow's smooth effectiveness forced the battered face of her cervix into a dilation just wide enough to accommodate the width of his piss slit.

Not a moment later, a thread of impossibly vile, backed-up cockjuice from the reservoir at his erection's root exploded up through his urethra as fresh slop through a recently-unclogged pipe.

In many ways, 'reproductive slime' summed up the subtance in its entirety. Colored a rancid yellow no different from dehydrated urine that just so happened to be infused with the slightest hints of murky whiteness, the sight of the congealed mire-log would have inspired one to imagine a mixture of melted cheese and pudding-moistened porridge. Lumpy and wadded to the touch, yet also heated to a boiling temperature that defied the 'norm' for even the most congested load of 'traditional' semen, its qualities maintained more in common with waste than they did with genuine genetic material. Inexplicably, portions of the strand were infused with jagged wires of greasy pubic hair as well—an especially jarring quality if one were to consider where they may've come from.

Accordingly, the fluid implications carried by 'reproductive slime' rendered the definition inaccurate by default. Right from the beginning of its ejection, the thickness and texture of the semen log that burst from Reinhardt's cock presented it as a chewy semi solid several steps away from flowing as a liquid. Carried by the pressure at the root of his length through to a stuttered, slurry-like smearing at the roof of Brigette's uterus, its refusal to spread out across the surface area surrounding it removed all remaining doubt as to its state.

Several seconds—and several haggard bursts of cockjuice—later, denying it became impossible. One by one, similarly congested logs loaded with bulbous chunks of wasted nutrients and degraded sperm were stacked atop one another like languid rope segments of clay. Focused uniformly at the peak of Brigette's uterus, their compilation put the enhanced capacity of her uterus to the test almost immediately.

Provided one had the capacity for hearing, what sort of test could be discerned by ear.

*BLORP-GLORPP-GLURP!*

First rendered top-heavy by their contents, then utterly fattened with them, the discolored glut that wormed its way through Reinhardt's urethra eventually staked a 'claim' to Brigette's womb that few men could match. Forcing the organ to noisily chug the chewable substance through her cervix, appropriately foul gulping noises were pushed from Brigette's midsection one after another.

Tragically, the only individuals present to enjoy these noises were far too preoccupied by their own pleasure to even register that they had occurred.

"Uoooughhiiiii~!! Reinhardt's cum is squirting through my cervix. My whole womb'sh getting caked with gross, wriggly cockjush ♥♥!" consumed by a fit of hoarse squealing right from the beginning of Reinhardt's orgasm, 'more coherent' outbursts began rippling from Brigette's lips partway through it.

From this point onward, she refused silence altogether.

"Drown it more—make me squirt out my eggs so I can get pregnant!" she howled. "I-I'm sucking and slurping as much as I can, Reinhardt—please make sure to fatten my womb as much as you want!"

Given the stimulation that accompanied the event, some form of outburst from her was to be expected. On top of the sensation of pressurized semen surging through the mouth of her cervix in the form of grotesque logs—a process that her feminine innards encouraged by way of suction—Brigette was also treated to the sensation of steaming semen fattening the enhanced volume of her womb.

To begin with, the augmentations made to her body by R-17 had attributed dangerous amounts of significance to this event. Now in possession of an enhanced fecundity for her ovaries and a uterus larger (and more sensitive) than it had been previously, the introduction of wadded nut threads loaded with fattened sperm cells into her womb was effectively guaranteed to debilitate her.

Worse still, her mind was predisposed toward embracing this debilitation. While not as far-reaching when compared to the changes made to her body, alterations in her brain chemistry had resulted in sexual pleasure becoming as addictive as a high-grade narcotic for her. Thanks to this, the feral stupidity brought on by the progressive fattening of her womb and its modest plumping of her midsection was accepted by her psyche as a necessity—as something not only required of her, but completely appropriate for the situation that she found herself in.

Like his godchild, Reinhardt's disconnection from the sights and sounds around him was rooted in the pleasure that accompanied his orgasm. After minutes spent enduring the slovenly vice-suckling of Brigette's cunt, the satisfaction that he derived from blasting rope after rope of denatured jizz into her womb left him incapable of paying much attention to the consequences that they created.

However, this was where the pair's similarities ended. Instead of embracing his pleasure as an excuse for motionlessness, Reinhardt wrestled with the uselessness imposed by his release until he finally overcame it.

Incidentally, his success with this just so happened to coincide with the eruption of a final wad of semen out of the tip of his length.

"Geh-haaaaa, FUCK! You really went and sucked a proper load of semen out of me!" regaining himself with the same abruptness he had brandished prior to grabbing Bridgette's nipples, Reinhardt's first outburst in minutes came in the wake of a satisfying nuzzle of his crotch up against the squishy, bush-plastered engorgement of her crotch.

Behind this utterance, one highlighted by a toothy sneer burst from his throat in short order.

"We're not done yet, though—not even close! I've still got plenty'a jizz to blow out inside ya, an' you're gonna drain me of all of it!"

"If yer' gonna look and sound like a breeding-addicted sow, yer gonna hafta act like one, too!"

All-too-aware of the physical uselessness that had consumed Brigette's body, Reinhardt followed up his declaration by situating her for seamless compliance. First replacing his milk-soaked palms from her nipples down to the softened edges of her hips, he subsequently exerted a fraction of his musculature's strength to drag her cunt up and off of his still-erect cock.

Neither the changed mass of Brigitte's sex-focused frame nor the ardent, almost starved suckle of her inner walls against his cock could stymie him in this. In the blink of an eye, the peeling of her inner walls amounted to a nauseating *BLORP* created as his glans burst from the mouth of her cunt, and a stuttered cascade of yellowed, semi-solid semen tumbled from out of its overpacked depths.

Next, he pushed her downward. Paying no attention to the streaks of filth his shaft had acquired, he forced Brigitte down to a back-first sprawl against the floor space behind her, then descended to join her whilst propped up atop his kneecaps.

In position, he began arranging their frames in earnest. Hands still mushed into Brigitte's hips, he seamlessly rotated her semen-bloated frame so that her face's left cheek was mushed against the floor, then hiked the expansive dumptruck of sweat-glazed assflesh that constituted her rear up closer to the semen-wadded tip of his length.

Like this, a single hooked thrust of his hips would have sufficed for digging his cock back inside Brigitte. Fully aware of this in spite of the seething desire that motivated his actions, Reinhardt's arrival at this point instead saw him indulge in several seconds of appreciation.

Much like the rest of Brigitte's frame, the make of her ass demanded this. Inches away from his erection, mushy, triple-scale globes of flesh sat in place of Brigitte's previously taut and powerful buttocks. Just slightly larger and rounder than her breasts—this indicated by the fact that his hands were made to appear 'modest' whilst set above them—the fat-engorged peach halves maintained a rounded, beachball-like shape that seemed designed for cushioning Brigitte's frame from whatever animalistic rutting her holes received.

As their combined span exceeded the width of his crotch, Reinhardt quickly found himself compelled to drive the face of his palms into their bloat in an attempt at 'exploration'. Tasting their swell one palm at a time, the pliant, almost pillow-like resistance that greeted his palms tempted him into an aggressive fit of kneading before he even realized what had occurred.

Comically, it was Brigitte who acted to ensure that Reinhardt remained 'on-task' in the wake of this. Deeply stimulated by the sensation of masculine palms toying with her assflesh, she met Reinhardt's groping with a feverish wiggle of her hips and the direction of a needy mewl straight back at him.

"Fuckmefuckmefuckme—you can't stop now, Reinhardt ♥!" she mewled. "My cunt's right here, so you gotta finish seeding it. It stings so much I'll go crazy if you don't!"

"I-I know my ass is fatter now, but that should just make it easier for you to fuck, right?"

Only moments into his squeezing and rolling, the sound of Brigitte's voice (and the throbbing of his erection) thrust Reinhardt back into reality. In recognition of what work remained ahead for him, he tightened his palms' impression into Brigitte's asscheeks and peeled the massive dough-spheres apart to better expose the state of her holes.

Try as he might to move quickly after the fact, the state of her asshole stymied him further. Directly above the semen-glutted crater at her crotch, a darkened, donut-portly ring of sphincter-flesh sat greased with the same slime that oozed from her folds at all times. Surrounded by a soaked ring of ginger-colored hair thick enough to connect to the ending of the trail of pubes from the base of her cunt, the abject perversion that it presented sent convulsions rippling through his cock such that a lone wad of backed up semen was spewed from his cocktip out onto Brigitte's asscheeks.

()ass/asshole

Moments later, his breaking point arrived. Suddenly more starved for an orgasm than ever, he hurriedly stamped his feet flat to either side of Brigitte's waist and slanted his crotch downward to direct the unruly engorgement of his glans down towards her cunt.

Finally, he descended. Dropping his torso down towards Brigitte's back whilst punching his crotch inward, Reinhardt replanted the semen-greased nose of his cock through the restored mouth of her cunt with the same bestial efficiency that Brigitte had displayed in skewering herself.

Comparatively, though, his hilt was far more brutal. So as to drive every inch of himself into the semen-smeared hole without stopping, Reinhardt braced the descent of his torso by stacking both of his palms atop the back of Brigitte's head. Through this, the weight of all of the studded musculature spread out across his frame assisted his hips in squeezing his member back down into the sweltering embrace of her inner walls.

Not including the vibrant splutter of muddied cum that his hilt displaced from the mouth of her cunt, the effectiveness of his decision was made apparent the moment his thrust was completed.

Innards full and cervix tented, Brigitte again found herself compelled to scream out as the sow that she had become.

"Ouuughh ♥!! S-Sh'o thioiiiiick~! I can feel it trying t-to dig into my womb agaaaaain!" she groaned, features splayed into a tongue-splayed grimace

"F-Fuck me again, Reinhardt—my cunt'll make sure to slurp up all of your nasty cum thi'sh time!"

"Blend up my womb more—beat up my insides 'tll my brain stops working! Fuckmefuckmefuckme uhhhiiiiiii ♥♥."

Well before Brigitte could finish spewing her requests, signage from Reinhardt's frame removed all need for 'asking'. Briefly staggered by the envelopment of his cock by Brigitte's bulbous cocksleeve, his acclimation to her folds saw him spring to life immediately. Pushing down against Brigitte's skull with both hands, he engaged his hulking musculature to unholster a fraction of his cock from her cunt behind yet another chunked flourish of semen.

Immediately afterwards, he plunged himself straight back to a hilt. Mounting the wobbling fat of Brigitte's ass in against itself with his crotch, he delivered a gutting, crescent-curved punch of his cock weighted by the massive bulk of his frame.

On completion of his second hilt through her folds, he began repeating himself. Spurred on by his erection's needy engorgement and the tenderizing convulsions that Brigitte's cunt pushed against it, Reinhardt repeatedly shovelled his cock back and forth through her depths with bestial intent. Per slanted plunge of his crotch, he threw a fraction of his sweat-glazed body mass downward along his thrusting path to ensure that his glans was wedged up against the worn face of her cervix with as much force as possible. Met with a wealth of sweaty buoyancy from Brigitte's cheeks after the fact, he then rebounded his crotch off of their fat and messily unplugged just over a third of his length from her folds.

()breasts lactation

Together, these strokes fed all of the basal 'needs' that had recently invaded Reinhardt's frame. Whilst his plunges squeezed the lumber-scale engorgement of his cock through a sleeve intent on sucking its blood vessels into stagnation—this on top of the stomach-fattening hilt depression that his glans opposed against Brigitte's cervix—his retractions treated him to shortlived 'sucking' sensations unlike anything he had enjoyed prior. Shortly, the quivering 'hold' that Brigitte applied with her cunt made him feel as though the flesh of his cocktrunk was being sucked out of his frame each time he pulled his cock backwards.

Thus, his selfish lust for Brigitte's frame was satisfied several times over. By measuring his strokes to 'respond' to the mushy rejection offered by her asscheeks, his crotch and groin enjoyed countless sweat-greased kisses with her rear's bloat on a second-by-second basis.

He did not need to see these kisses to enjoy them, either. Now deep within the mindset of a beast, the pace of his metronome began at a slovenly peak that choked the air with a spirited blend of *PLAPP!* and *PLORP!* noises. Constituted by the clapping of his sex-soaked crotch against Brigitte's assfat and the wrenching of vascular cockflesh and sexual sludge through the sex-frayed mouth of her cunt, their quality suggested that Reinhardt's rut against her rear was as effective as it could have been.

As all of his wants for his stroking pattern were satisfied, Reinhardt was freed up to approach his satisfaction as a greedy animal. So as to accommodate deeper, nuzzle-backed hilts of his cock, he progressively increased the amount of pressure his hands pressed down against the side of Brigitte's face. Made more and more careless by the pressurized slurps her cervix pressed against his glans in return, the stimulation that he enjoyed eventually drew his line of sight off of Brigitte and up into a tooth-grit seethe up towards the ceiling.

With this, Brigitte ceased to be his godchild and was at last reduced to a means within his mind. As a result, his libido set the brutality of his rutting onto a path of steady escalation without his even recognizing what had come to pass. Content to masturbate with Brigitte's semen-glutted cunt for as long as he could, everything unrelated to this activity was progressively pushed from his mind as well.

Tellingly, his ability to assess the stimulation that he was enjoying was included amongst these things:

Compared to his fixation on skewering and blending the semen-slogged meat of her folds, the specifics attached to it meant nothing to him.

*PLAPP-PLORP-PLAPP-PLORP*

Indifference towards these specifics proved costly. Had Reinhardt the wherewithal to recognize the 'changes' that wormed their way into the rhythmic clapping noises produced between his crotch and Brigitte's rear, he may well have recognized that the source of these changes was completely internal.

As requested, Brigitte was doing everything that she could to coax a second load of semen out of his length. Not long after Reinhardt's thrusting metronome was blended with feral indifference, the constant contraction of her cunt had grown tighter, and the involuntary quivers and squirms that rippled through her congealed depths became more frequent. Past this, the sex-loosened state of her cervix descended ever so slightly so as to suckle against more of his glans' surface area each time Reinhardt hilted himself inside of her.

All of these things were wrought from Brigitte applying herself whilst her body was assaulted by a crippling combination of stimuli. To say nothing of the pace that they were executed at, the shovel-angled wrenching of Reinhardt's cock through her folds exceeded the potency of her squatting several times over. When the nerve-riddled bloat of her cunt was not forced to spread and huddle around his length during one of his plunges, the modified state of her innards saw them glued to its exterior each time he flicked his hips backward. Whether through the violent wriggling of grotesquely large veins against her inner walls or their own predilection for being fucked inside out, some form of stimulation was constantly pushed onto her in excess.

() pussy/bush

In spite of this, the depraved hunger that had guided her into these straits went unchanged. No matter how many wads of excess semen were fucked out of the edges of her cuntlips or how tightly her semen-bloated stomach was fucked against the ground, Brigitte's desire—her need—for violent insemination refused to be quieted.

With no one to rein her in, she eventually began seeking out 'escalations' all on her own. After finishing with her first set of 'contributions' for the gutting of her folds, she set out to take control of it altogether. In a display of disregard for the gut-swelling pace and depth of Reinhardt's thrusts, she interrupted his metronome with a heavy flogging of her ass back against his crotch, and through this an abrupt hilting of his length back through her cunt.

*GLORSH~!*

Before the guttural choking noise forced from her cunt ceased its reverberation through her ears, Brigitte applied the opportunity she had created to the fullest. Again tightening the pink bloat of her inner walls along Reinhardt's member, she invested herself in spiking the fat of her ass back against his crotch and ruthlessly milking his erection from its root up to its midsection.

In this, the only compromise that she accepted was related to her pace. Still very much smothered by Reinhardt's position overtop her, reproducing the piston-speed hammering of her cunt that he had managed proved beyond her after only seconds of effort.

Nevertheless, the 'energy' that her twerk-plunging maintained ensured that nothing was 'lost' with regards to her ministrations. From the first goring of her cunt onwards, Brigitte's hips and rear worked in tandem with one another to turn every stroke of her lower body into a sharp, buttocks-wobbling flick of her ass back along Reinhardt's length. Specifically, whereas her womb would have been satisfied with a mindless, back-and-forth punch of her slobbering folds along his cock, Brigitte herself chose to do so in as grinding and effective a manner as possible.

Not a half-minute after reassuming control, validation unrelated to the bursts of cuntsyrup that spewed from her cunt was dumped onto her from two different sources—

Both of which just so happened to pull her sweat-mired features into a smile.

"GUUUOHHH FUUUUUUUCKKKK!!!"

Disarmed by the sudden termination of his thrusting chain and the changed conditions within Brigitte's cunt, the helplessness that consumed Reinhardt eventually led him to express himself in the only manner that he still could.

Despite his having a cock structured for the domination of any female orifice and the musculature required for using it, the sloppy bouncing of Brigitte's cunt had swept his legs out from under him.

For a time, groaning in bliss whilst more and more semen was fucked into the root of his shaft was his only recourse. Eventually, though, his body's desire for a second orgasm well ahead of the timing that he desired for his release centered his attentions on resisting release until the last possible second.

Stupor or no stupor, he needed to—if not for himself, then for the sake of yet-to-be-inseminated bitch that was milking his length.

Thus, he persevered. Enduring stroke after stroke of Brigitte's cunt, he applied every bit of his musculature to somehow holding his load at the base of his fleshtower's writhing bloat.

Comically, the visible contraction of his muscles and the appearance of fresh sheets of sweat across his modestly-haired frame only amounted to a few extra seconds of resistance for him.

Beyond them, the limits of his frame sent a familiar sensation of warmth slithering through his groin…

One so familiar that he did not even attempt to assess it during its onset.

"C-CUMMING! GET READY FOR YOUR COCKJUICE, BRIGITTE!" bellowed Reinhardt. "I'M GONNA SEED YA GOOD AND PROPER! SUCK EVERY DROP OF A SLUG—-"

"GUHGHHHHH?"

At the very worst juncture possible, Reinhardt's resistance incurred a cost disproportionate to its significance. Only an instant into embracing the warming engorgement of his urethra by semen, the sensations that he had expected to accompany the event were progressively replaced by those that had no business within the depths of his cock.

To start, a sensation that felt like the depression of slow-moving serpent through his urethra was raised from the root of his cock up to its midsection. Here, the compaction of boiling, semi-solid semen within this fraction of his urethra created a bizarre combination of discomfort and satisfaction for his cock. Fortunately alleviated before it could intensify into something intolerable, the disappearance of this sensation was replaced by a familiar grind of lumpy semen up through his length, and a satisfyingly oversized eruption of the substance straight through Brigitte's cervix.

At the root of these happenings was a curdled thickening of his first two semen strands and the compaction of ripened contents within his urethra. In what few seconds he had spent resisting his orgasm in search of stimulation, the abnormal consistency and virility of his semen was worsened to the extent that was caught unprepared for its expulsion. Flushed up through his pissslit by the pressures of his orgasm, these chunky ropes created a stinging excess of stimulation for him throughout their release. Dense enough and numerous enough to create the occasional blockage within the length of his cock—this in turn resulting in the occasional compaction of semen within it—their persistence as the 'bulk' of his orgasm turned the already strenuous nature of his release into a genuine struggle.

Thanks to the modification of his innards by R-17, the majority of this struggle was mental. As soon as it became apparent that additional effort would be required to pack his genetic material into Brigitte's womb, Reinhardt's innards produced the additional contractions that were required of them.

Through them, vile logs of writhing nut were pushed through the mouth of her cervix into prolonged 'injections' into the reservoir of semen packed within Brigitte's womb. Each one visually distinct by virtue of the substance's rancid thickness, the addition of these smegma-flecked ropes riddled the organ with several fresh layers of sludge before coalescence rendered their contents as no different from the semen that was already inside of her.

As this occurred, Reinhardt wrestled with a tooth-chipping euphoria and unparalleled masculine satisfaction in tandem. Gutted by the sensation of semen rolling through his urethra, he spent the entirety of his orgasm pumping his crotch in against Brigitte's rear in an attempt at fucking his load out of his length at a faster pace, and grunting as though a knife had been stabbed and twisted within his urethra.

Comically, the additional strain incurred from Reinhardt's stubbornness translated out to a more intense seeding for Brigitte. Overcome by reproductive instinct right from the first stuttered ejection of cockjuice through her cervix, the potency of Reinhardt's semen logs shocked her system into a focused appreciation of its swelling.

Briefly enraptured by the raucous *GLORPS~* that rumbled from her midsection as semen was vomited into her womb, the ballooning of her uterus into a dumpy, watermelon-sized sac and its bloating of her midsection quickly turned her attentions inwards.

Partway through Reinhardt's release, squirms within her ovaries dumped eggs into her feminine tubing. Carried through to timely plops into her semen-swelled womb by further convolutions, the bliss that accompanied the happening forced her into a form of 'appreciation' different from the cooing and squealing that she had produced thus far.

Unsurprisingly, every second of it could have been swapped out for the mewling of a sow in a pinch.

"Mnnngnnaahhhh p-pregnantnnnnt!! Reinhardt's breeding me with smelly dickjuiceeeee ♥." she groaned. "Finalllllly! M-My womb's gonna get fat with babies—my whole body'sh jus' a dumpster for cockjuuuush ♥!!"

Not long after these squeals escaped her, the usage that inspired them was brought to an end. Somehow functional after a full minute of pumping overfed tadpoles into her uterus, Reinhardt jumped into a second (and much more hard-fought) extraction of his cock from her folds. Drawing arced splutters of battered nut out alongside each inch he retreated, stimulation was continually applied against his length until the final inches of his glans popped from the destroyed face of Brigitte's cunt.

Left behind was visual proof of the abnormalities that defined their frames. Despite beginning as a fist-wide, gelatinously frayed crater of hairy cuntflesh whose interior had been reduced to a basin for sewage-quality (and apparently pube-infested) semen, the removal of Reinhardt's cock saw Brigitte's gaped cunt contract back towards its usual shape within seconds. The bruised puffiness of her mons remained perfectly apparent, but a certain amount of 'readiness' for another session of use could be seen in hole all the same.

Rather than gawk at the sights he had created, Reinhardt did the unthinkable. Forgoing even a glance at the cratered mess of semen and stray pubes inside Brigitte's cunt, he unstacked his hands from off of her face and began pulling himself upright.

Partway through, his right hand found the splayed ponytail at the back of Brigitte's skull, and thereafter began dragging her alongside him—

Not upright, but along the ground as a bitch unwilling to walk to her next seeding session...