Here’s a little story I put together to go with a commission I got (and also set up another story to go with another piece of art of my dude I’ve got waiting in the hopper). It’s mostly focused on male minotaur-noxo getting his cyberware hacked to mess with his head and make a fap session even lewder. If that’s not your jam, don’t click to read more!

Art by JayEcho

By: Fenoxo
Tags: TiTS, Minotaur, Masturbation, Solo Male, Mind Control, Mild Body Modification, Exhibitionism, Big ol’ Horsecock, Fen’s OC
V1.0: Basic edit pass done.

Fenoxo sat down on the couch and eyeballed the datachit. On the surface, it looked like any other universal data-store: matte black with a few gleaming electrodes where it could interface with nearly any machine. The bull-man knew the contents inside to be more insidious. He had picked it up from a trusted contact who promised the high-definition memory-store would provide an unforgettable experience: supposedly some next level memory-data that made getting gang-banged by a batch of New Texan bimbos look like a walk in the park.

He had forgotten about it for a few weeks, but now that Derri and Lyko were sound asleep in bed, he decided he might as well give it a try. Fen was still horny.

Reaching up, the shaggy-furred bull-man pressed at the hidden port on the back of his head where his cybernetic ‘horns’ plugged in. He long ago made peace with their presence.  Just because he had no say in having them bolted on didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate the eventual benefits. Big glowing horns were a conversation starter, for one, and psionic amplification was nothing to sneeze at. Since having that bundle of circuitry laced into his brain, he had gained abilities unmodified terrans could only dream of – one of which was the ability to load properly recorded sensory data to relive on a whim.

Was it wasteful, using cutting edge technology to essentially experience porn in perfect definition? Probably. But Fen did it anyway.

The chit caught on the edge of the port, unwilling to go in.  Fen sighed. No matter how often he used of the damned things, they were always upside down the first time you tried them. A quick twist of his thick, bovine-furred fingers corrected the datachit’s alignment and allowed it to slide home with an audible ‘click.’ Now to dial into its directory structure and hope the filetype was compatible with his rudimentary bio-player softw-

01000111 01100101 01110100 00100000 01101000 01100001 01110010 01100100 00101110 #&@^&  071 101 116 032 104 097 114 100 046 ^%%@& Ge# h4rd.

Fenoxo reeled from the onslaught of garbage data that poured through his implant into his head. His brain was misfiring. Every attempt at thought was interrupted by bursts of mental static and errant releases of endorphins. He wanted to be- 01100101 01110010 01100101 01100011 01110100. No, he wanted to- 109 097 115 116 117 114 098 097 116 101– before this got out of hand.

Fen’s cock slapped into his belly hard enough to startle him out of his confusion. Er3ct. H4rd. What? He shook his head and tried to make sense of what was happening. He had… he had intended to masturbate. And he was HARD now. No wonder he wanted to masturbate. There was something with his horns and a data… data-chit. 01001000 00110000 01010010 01001110 01011001: Horny. And he was horny now. So horny. So why… why wasn’t the datachit giving him anything to masturbate to?

Arousal: 45%.
Resistance: 40%
Ejaculate Quantity: 20%. Beginning enhancement…

Staring at his enormous, 16-inch horse-dick and the heavy, orange-sized balls, Fen laughed. Whoever recorded this strange little mind-fuck of a program must not have had much going on down there, because he was- going to fill hi5 balls with cum as fast as possibl01. Yeah. Better play along with the program. Psychic dissonance could play hell with his psyche. Besides, a little more mess wouldn’t hurt anything.

Green flashed from his horns as he tapped into his powers, twisting the fabric of the universe around his balls until it was as if the past three orgasms had never happened. Lust came with the psionic replacement of his cum, surging up alongside his mental focus. He could feel the extra weight slide into his nuts in an instant, his sack stretching to accommodate the bit of extra weight. Fen growled and squeezed his eyes shut for just a second longer, long enough for his balls to swell bigger than they should be. He panted. That had to be enough.

Arousal: 50%
Resistanc3) 33%
Ejaculate1Quantit9y: 50%. Enhancing…

The data corruption was annoying, but not as annoying as the gentle ache from his balls, demanding he spill his load somewhere. Of course, he kept enhancing his output. It was part of the program, and it had made him horny. Erect. Tumescent. Engorged. He liked to feel like this, like his horse-dick was so rigid that his heartbeat bounced it on his belly.

Sickly emerald glowed from his horns without any effort on his part. The program streamed past primitive firewalls to set up shop in his psychic amplifiers. Distracting, electrified tingles in his pleasure centers were the only way he could tell it was up to anything at all. A flash of pink midway through confused him. The horns only went pink when he messed with someone’s mind, suppressing memories or altering perceptions, but they went green again in no time at all. Must have been a glitch.

There were more important things to worry about, like his swelling prostate. It always did this when he masturbated, ever since… ever since… he didn’t remember but he knew it was true. It’d get bigger and bigger the longer he stayed horny. Hell, he could feel it plumping up, the once petite pleasure organ expanding to occupy a greater portion of his abdomen than ever before.

Arousal: 53%
Resis#ance: 20%
3jaculate Quantity: 60% and rising to acceptable levels.

The muscular minotaur groaned deep in the back of his throat. His horns flashed back to pink. PINK IS FINE. That was good, because he didn’t want to worry about anything while he was masturbating. He just wanted to jack off, and with his mind control fetish, he knew that being able to twist himself into a horny mess would help him cum even harder. He swooned at the thought of dumping an enormous load all over his chest, clenching hard enough to squirt onto his nose, but he couldn’t do that yet.

That’s right, the camera wasn’t on yet. He didn’t actually remember masturbating for an audience before, but the idea of doing it made him harder. Being hard made him want to show off. And… Fen scratched his chin. The thought trailed off beneath the weight of his throbbing arousal, dragged  away by the weight churning in his balls. A droplet of pre-cum appeared at the top of his flared tip as he staggered up onto his feet and tapped a few complicated commands into his console without thought, routing the security cam to upload its datastream to a remote address he couldn’t seem to think about. So long as his fingers moved on his keyboard, pleasure licked at his balls like a kaithrit’s tongue, lapping up the sweat and encouraging him to hurry up.

Ar00sal: 76%
R11istance: 11%
Ejaculate Q$@^7!$: 73”/

There. Now it would auto-upload to StudHub and <STATIC>, then save a local copy on his machine for him to masturbate to later. Fen flopped back into the couch, legs spreading automatically to better display his balls. He glanced up at the camera and waved, feeling his arousal mount at the thought of the millions of eyes that might watch him. Horny viewers could be tuning in right now, their gazes riveted to his dick. It felt so good to go with the program, nevermind his bulging balls begging to cum or the pressure in his prostate. It had grown so big that he could squeeze it just by flexing his abdominals. A single clench milked out a big rope of pre-jizz.

His audience was sure to love that.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so hard!” he groaned, finally comfortable reaching down toward the over-aroused length between his legs. He could barely think he was so horny. The constant background buzzing that cropped up in his mind whenever he masturbate for his the camera didn’t help. He sort of liked that, though. “Look at this.” He squeezed, filling his palm with a slimy puddle of pre. “I have to jack it off.” It felt nice and slick when he grabbed hold of himself. The big, throbbing minotaur-dick rubbed itself lovingly against his palm. “It’d be cruel not to.”

It would be cruel. Fortunately, the digital whispers licking at the back of his mind wanted him to. He wasn’t just hard and tumescent and horny. He was masturbating and stroking and a drippy boy-toy. Yes, to his viewers he was just that: sex-object who existed to titillate them with his overpowering libido and inhuman ability to produce seed. He needed to cum. Cumming was his purpose.

Arousal: 95%
Resistance: 0%
Ejaculate Quantity: 94%

The instructions started to come in so much more clearly now that they aligned perfectly with what he wanted to do. He wanted to cum for the camera. He wanted to make a big mess and moan while he did it. Yes, he was groaning now. His fist pumped up and down his equine length. Every pass by the medial ring left him seeing stars and crying out in near-insensate delight. The press of his knuckles against his sheath forced his body to clench down on a prostate that felt too big to be believed. Pre-cum puddled on him as he jacked himself off.

Fenoxo was beyond talking, beyond thought. He was a public masturbation slut. The only thing that matter to him was making sure he pumped his dick in a way the camera would have a good view of. A picture of his ideal viewer, a busty, smooth-scaled lizard-woman with glowing horns resolved itself in his mind, and he spurted a rope of pre-cum big enough to fill a shotglass. She filled his thoughts; the image of her cutely smiling as he pumped his dick spurred him on. Pre-cum splattered from his shaft onto his crotch in sticky webs, slicking down his fur. He could smell the musk and pre mixing in the air, and he wished that the nameless, draconic beauty could be here to smell it herself.

Fen’s breaths grew shorter and sharper, every exhalation carrying a porn-worthy moan. He wrapped his other hand around his dick, pumping it in earnest, jacking himself off in a frenzy. That dragon-woman had taken up residence in his head now, turning and posing for him, noticing that his attention was on her ass and wiggling for him. Her hypnotic bounces occupied fully 100% of his attention. His horns glowed brighter than he had ever seen them as his eyelids drooped. She wasn’t just gorgeous. She was heavenly.

Art by Hellgoat

Fenoxo fell deeply, soul-searing in love with her in that moment. Her coy smile and curvaceous form were everything he needed and more – well, besides an audience for his cock as it flared and lurched into orgasm, sputtering out enormous gouts of cum to the feeling of a mind-rearranging infatuation. It hit his chest in a line that stretched all the way up to his snout. It puddled in his fur and soaked in deep. Fen didn’t care, he was looking up at the camera and continuing to stroke.

If she was watching, he wanted her to see every filthy detail. He wanted her to know that when he met her, he was going to do the same thing to her, even if he had to use every ounce of his psionic power to do so. Showers of his psionically reinforced load rained down on his legs and the couch.

The datachit auto-ejected, its payload spent. Fen didn’t notice it, too busy reveling in the aftereffects of his exhibitionism-fueled orgasm. The viewers would love it. Another bright pink flash forced him to blink, shuffling his memories one last time before the program purged itself.

Groaning and stretching, Fen stirred the cum around with one finger before licking it clean. He always liked putting on a show for Linera. The cute dragon-girl was everything he liked in an erotic play-pal: buxom, intelligent, perverted, and she didn’t complain when he sent her new masturbation videos every night. It was a routine that had helped him fall in love with her. He couldn’t wait to finally meet her.