Patty Cakes 1

This was it. This was the big moment. There were twenty seconds left in the round and Cruiser D.va had just hit 100% on her ult meter. With her MEKA's self-destruct, she could easily clear the point and solo push the payload, breaking the five minute stalemate and winning the match for her team.

It was going to be beautiful. No, not beautiful. Biblical. Hitting her boosters, she began to fly in. Her momentum would carry her suit straight into a wall when she objected, perfectly positioned for maximum impact. And just as she was about to hit the button that would seal the deal--

Sombra hacked her. Her suit plummeted from the air. As much as she hit the button, her suit did not initiate its self destruct sequence. Torbjörn's turret battered her suit in a constant hail of bullets, joined by the weapons of the few heroes up on the opposing team. The MEKA certainly

exploded

, but not the way she wanted it to.

She was immediately fragged.

Seventeen more seconds passed, and then the round ended with Sombra's team the victor. D.va's team had lost. "Fuuuuuck," Dart groaned as he slouched back on his couch, tossing his PS4 controller to the other side of it. He was done with Overwatch for the day. Maybe he was done until someone at Blizzard wizened up and deleted Sombra from the game.

Dart stared at the ceiling.

Nah, that was a little much. Definitely just for the day. Sighing, he started to get up to hit the fridge only to pause when his doorbell rang. Weird. Someone dropping by at 11 AM on a Wednesday? Dart frowned and then shrugged, moseying on over and pulling the door wide.

Nobody. Dart grumbled and stepped out, ready to chase down the brat that ding dong ditched his ass. He grunted and caught himself just short of tripping over the Amazon package on his doorstep, grunting his surprise. Once he recovered, he leaned down to grab it up and squint at its label. He hadn't ordered shit.

But sure enough, it was his address and his name. Shrugging, he brought it inside and ripped it open to reveal a slim DVD case without a cover slip. Popping the case open, he also found that the DVD was unlabelled. Was this some Ring shit?

Dart stared at the DVD. He did a lot of staring in the course of any given day.

Nah, the Ring was a bunch of bullshit. But he was bored and sure as hell didn't want to dive back into Overwatch, so he removed it, tossed the case on his coffee table and went to put it in. He grabbed his controller, hit play, and sank back on the couch to watch whatever bullshit had mistakenly shown up on his porch.

The theme song made him perk the moment it started. "Aw, fuck yeah." He loved this shit when he was a kid. Patty Cakes was a hit cartoon in the 80s. Set in the 1950s, it focused on Patty, an all American girl who sold baked goods and served tables at Pop's Diner (naturally owned and operated by a guy named Pops). Patty and her friends were constantly defending the diner against Diana's Dirtbags, a motorcycle gang headed by (you guessed it) Diana, her rival. It was innocent, hokey fun. Dart settled in to relive his childhood.

"The fuck?" He squinted at the screen hard and paused the video during the intro. It was introducing the main cast -- that much was normal -- but Patty was a blonde white girl, not a brunette Korean chick. Her voice actress was

not

Hana Song. For that matter, Diana was supposed to be italian, not hispanic. Who the fuck was Olivia Colomar? It clicked after a moment: those were D.va and Sombra's names, and the characters were very obviously D.va and Sombra.

What a weird parody. The animation was surprisingly top notch, and Dart could vaguely remember the episode he was watching enough to predict the plot beats. How it was Pop's birthday and how Patty was going to bake him a cake in the shape of the diner, but Diana had stolen her icing. Just as he was starting to question how this oddly specific parody ended up on his doorstep, it diverged from the original content. Patty looked up and directly into the camera, notable because Patty Cakes never broke the fourth wall.

"Okay, boys," she said with a sudden, unabashed grin cutting across her distinct features, lifting the icing bag in one hand. "You know what time it is. The only way I can beat Diana is with your help. So c'mon," she said in a lower voice, the camera slowly starting to zoom in -- not on her pretty face but on her hands holding the icing bag and the flannel shirt obscuring her perky tits. "Whip your dicks out for Patty and fill this up. If Diana

really

wants some icing, let's give them yours." Sheer cartoon magic had her shirt's first button pop off, followed by the second and third.

It then fell open, revealing the pale skin of her chest and her protruding nipples, just begging for any sort of attention. There wasn't a hint of shame on Patty -- D.va's -- face. "C'mon," she drawled, her voice sultry. "You know what those dirtbags are going to do if I go over there without your jizz power, don't you?" Slowly, she stroked her hand over the limp bag. The camera cut to her face, her devil may cry grin replaced by a smirk, chin tipped up as she raised her brows. "Or maybe," she suggested, pausing to run her long tongue along the bag's nozzle, "you want to see this Rosie get riveted by a whole gang of bikers, huh? Is that it?"

Dart stared at the screen, speechless. What the

fuck

was he watching and why the

fuck

was it turning him on? "Too much for me, man," he muttered, reaching for the controller to stop the video before it just became too much for him.

"C'mon, Dart," Patty laughed, and his hand stopped just short of his Dual Shock. "You already fucked me once today. Help a girl out and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you fuck me again. Better you than all of Diana's thugs, right?" she suggested. She sealed her pouty lips over the icing bag's nozzle and began suckling on it, one hand holding it while the other kept on running its long fingers up and down its limpness. Patty batted her eyes at him from the television screen, her faux innocence only serving to make her look just like the slut she was making herself out to be.

Someone put a lot of effort into this shit, a creepy amount of effort, and Dart couldn't think of a single person he knew with the skills to pull it off. What made it worse was that it was actually

doing it

for him. After a moment, he slouched back and unzipped his jeans, whipping out his hard mast as Patty asked. It wasn't too early for a good fap.

Patty's eyes brightened, and she stopped treating the icing bag like a dicksicle long enough to grin again. "You know, I've never had black cock before." As Dart began jerking off, the bag began to slowly fill up. She slowly licked her lips. "Can't wait for you to sink that into my tight Korean pussy. Maybe we'll live stream it on my Twitch channel. They won't ban me, my channel is too big," she said with perverse delight before returning her lips to the nozzle.

Dart couldn't even think of anyone who knew he had a body pillow of D.va in this costume, but he wasn't exactly thinking anymore, focused entirely on jerking one out. When he came, he exploded with surprising force, spurting across the room and splattering all over his TV screen. The mess made him groan out the moment post-nut clarity returned his senses to him, but the groan became a gasp when the spunk seemed to sink

into

the screen. Seconds later, Patty's icing bag ballooned to ridiculous proportions. Her lips popped off the nozzle and she flashed a saucy smile, genuinely eager and full of anticipation. "Here it comes!"

The baffled, awestruck man was sure as he could be that he didn't cum

nearly

that much. Rope after rope of hot jizz splattered Patty's tits and neck. Though she tried to aim the cumming nozzle at her mouth, it hit her cheeks and got in her hair, soon leaving the mis-cast Overwatch gamer drenched in Dart's baby batter. "Wow," she giggled as she swiped her fingers over her eyes and licked the immediate mess from her lips. "You must have been really pent up, huh? I'm honored," she said with a grin, lifting the nozzle to lick off the drippings. "So tasty, too," she cooed afterwards. "Honestly, Diana doesn't deserve this grade A cum, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do," she declared, patting the stuffed bag twice. "You just sit back and enjoy the show." Without bothering to clean up or even cover up, Patty shouldered the spunk-filled icing bag and left her kitchen, getting into her oddly MEKA-shaped car and driving towards the Dirtbag's clubhouse.

Dart could really only stare.

Patty soon arrived at the run-down abandoned gas station the Dirtbag's operated out of. Only Diana's bike was there, the rest out causing havoc. The heroine turned to the camera and winked at Dart, causing some dripping cum to slip down her forehead and streak over her eyelid and cheek. She laughed and wiped it off, then turned to the door and booted it in.

Diana was seated at the counter, playing a game of five finger fillet -- Sombra, of course, dressed in dark leather, chains and an unseemly number of patches, her hair all black. She gave a bored glance over at the door as it flew open, leaving her knife stabbed into the counter between her middle finger and ring finger. "What do you want, Hana? Our scene doesn't start for another hour-- what the

fuck

, girl?" Unlike 'Patty', Sombra wasn't even trying to play her role, and her tone was truly scandalized by her rival's sperm-spattered, debauched appearance, a wild and cum-high grin once more cutting across her face.

"Screw that. If you want Patty's icing so bad, you can have it," Patty -- no, Hana -- declared again, strutting into her enemy's lair and hefting the icing bag like a rifle, its over-full bottom tucked under her arm between her side and elbow. Sombra slid down from her barstool and started to scamper around to get the counter between them, wary and worried in sharp contrast to Hana's almost deranged, sperm-soaked grin.

"Hana," Sombra growled in warning, primed to make a threat that the Talon agent would be sure to follow up on. Hana only laughed at her and aimed the nozzle, squeezing the bag. The cum filling the bag shot out as hot and fast as it had been when Dart fucked up his TV's screen, making Sombra yelp and then squeal out as the deluge began to drench her. Though she threw up her hands and arms to cover her face, Hana was quick to squeeze the icing bag all the more, amping up the pressure. Her riotous, almost maniacal laughter drowned out the freaked out sounds of Sombra's indignation. Soon enough, the icing bag was empty. Though Sombra was fully dressed, she was far more coated in jizz than Hana and left panting from all her screaming; the Dirtbag's liar looked like the site of a messy elephant orgy.

"What the-- fuck-- is wrong with you?" Sombra wheezed, doubling over and spitting out some cum that had gotten in her mouth. Hana tossed the icing bag aside and skipped her way around the counter, grinning deviously at Sombra as she cornered her by the battered cash register. The darker of the two women grew flushed, a similar high seeming to strike her now, though unlike Hana who eagerly jumped into it and egged it on, she seemed intent on resisting it, leaning away from the gamer.

"Stop worrying about it and live a little," Hana said as she closed in on the shuddering Talon agent, grabbing her face with both hands and leaning in to use her long tongue, a longer lick swiping cum off Sombra's jaw, much to her gasped revulsion. A second later Hana was taking advantage of Sombra's gasping mouth, covering one pair of full lips with another and giving her a cummy french kiss. Though Sombra first tried to push Hana away, her fingers soon found the sides of Hana's shirt and grabbed them, returning the kiss with equal fervor until it ended. "It's good, right?" Hana said, kiss-bruised lips grinning readily again, a woman possessed by a raw hunger for cock and cum.

"Y-yeah, whatever," Sombra replied, averting her eyes and flushing. She didn't let go of Hana's shirt.

"Hey, I have a great idea," Hana turned her beam towards the camera once more. "Since Diana--"

"Just call me Sombra," the other woman snapped.

"Since Diana is playing hard to get," Hana pressed on carelessly, "how about you fuck her instead of me? You can have a little revenge and put her in her place. Don't let her fool you," Hana cooed. "She's a total slut. You should see what her hotel room looks like on a Sunday morning. It puts

this

to shame," she giggled, giving a sweeping look over the white-coated room. "Really. One time, the four guys she let run a train over her forgot to untie her, so I had to--"

"I am not," Sombra growled, now trying to push Hana away, but not putting enough effort into it to manage anything when Hana opposed her, one hand going to her new bitch's hair and the other grabbing her jacket. In a flash, she had Sombra bent over the counter, peeling her belt away and using it to deliver a harsh swat across the latina woman's bottom. She yelped at first and cussed in spanish, though there was no mistaking the feline growl in her tone or the way she thrust out her ass without prompting, secretly eager for more and too proud to ask for it.

"Well?" Hana grinned at the camera. "Do you want to fuck her or not?"

Silence.

"C'mon, Dart, you look stupid staring like that."

It took him a minute to pick his jaw off the figurative floor. Thankfully, he wasn't subject to the cartoonish physics the two of them were. After a long, long moment he reached over for the controller again and hit pause. He needed a minute to process what the fuck was going on. He stumbled up to his feet and grabbed the DVD case off his coffee table, taking a long minute to just examine it in hopes of, well...

Anything.

Literally any kind of clue in or on the case that could explain how he was being fucked with. He didn't even have a camera for his Playstation or VR, so it couldn't be someone spying on him that way. And besides, he was just some dude on a couch playing games. Who would go through the effort? Nevermind the fact that he definitely

cummed on his television

and yet there was no evidence of it now. Dart worked his brain, and he worked it hard.

"Drugs," he finally concluded. The DVD case had to have been laced with some kind of hallucinogenic drug, fucking with his brain until he got into this completely fucked situation. There wasn't a weird DVD and somehow self-aware Overwatch characters starring in a Patty Cakes parody, he was just out of his mind. And when Dart thought about it that way, playing along didn't seem so bad. He still hadn't even bothered to tuck his cock away, and it was absolutely casting its vote in favor of that. "Yeah," he muttered to himself more decisively. "Just enjoy the trip, Dart. Don't be a stick in the mud."

He returned to his couch and hit play once more. At that moment both Hana and Sombra gasped as though they were freed from some spell, with the former glaring towards the camera and the latter ducking her head, still bent over the counter. "Hey," Hana kvetched, waving the belt threateningly at Dart through the screen. "That was rude. You have a hot, horny babe waiting for your dick and you're going to hit pause on her?" Suddenly her irritation faded, and she was quick to grin again. "I love it. You have no idea how wet she is," she said, tone pitching low as though sharing a secret.

"The only reason I'm w-wet is because you... drenched me in cum, you fucked up whore," Sombra grumbled. "His dick doesn't do anything for me. I'm d-dry as a desert," she insisted, even as Hana started working down her tight leather pants, needing to jump to finally force them over the curve of Sombra's firm ass. When she was done, they were left bunched and stretched between the latina's ankles. She wasn't wearing any underwear.

"Ta-da," Hana sing-songed as she dropped the belt and grabbed Sombra's ass, spreading it wide as the camera zoomed in to give a clean look at her bare but sodden cunt, about as far from a desert as a pussy could get. Overwatch's resident gamer crouched down, resting her cheek against one of the tight cheeks, still grinning at the camera. "Well? Are you going to stand there and gawk like a virgin or are you going to come over and teach this slut a lesson about hacking me?" she prodded.

"Nah. I'm game," Dart replied, moving up to the TV screen. He very tentatively poked the screen with the crown of his dick, but nothing happened. After a moment of silence, not at all embarrassed about the weird twists of this erotic drug trip, Dart asked, "What am I supposed to do?"

"Shove your HDMI cable down your dickhole," Sombra growled, and in response Hana half-turned her head and bit her right on the ass, much to the effectively tsundere hacker's howled dismay.

"Quit your whining," Hana cooed breezily, kissing the imprint of her teeth better before smiling up at Dart. "Just take a step back and let me handle that." She shifted, curling one arm up and around Sombra's hip to keep her spread. Her other hand reached up and seemed to pick up whatever camera captured them, pulling it closer and closer and closer until suddenly...

Dart jumped back when Hana's upper half and Sombra's round brown ass stuck out of his television screen, which began to shimmer and flow like some sort of watery portal. The former still had her tits out and was coated in drying cum, while the latter was clean and mostly dry, other than her primed pussy "Whoa," was the only word he could think to say. Whatever drug he was riding on was obviously good shit.

"You can whoa later," Hana said as she reached out and hooked her arm around Dart's waist, grabbing his ass in one hand and tugging him forward until his black cock was all but pressed against her face. The gamer licked her lips and glanced up at him, her cock-lust in her eyes. "Before Sombra gets even an inch of this, I want a taste."

"Choke on it," Sombra groused, though her tone betrayed her anticipation.

Without much more ado, Hana ignored Sombra and opened her swollen lips and took his crown right into her mouth. Dart groaned as she swirled her talented tongue around him and tickled his underside. As nice as her technique was, it was his trip and he was going to have it the way he wanted it. Rather than leave his hands dangling, he reached down and grabbed her head with a grunt. "Your fucking ult--"

Though Hana squeaked in surprise and protest, Dart ignored it other than the pleasant way it tickled his cock and began to roughly fuck her face. "--should have come up--" In the same vein he ignored her gagging as he penetrated her throat, his balls constantly clapping her chin and her lips meeting his pelvis every other thrust. Though there were a number of ways Hana could have escaped it, the glassy way she stared up at Dart told him just how much the slut loved it, and she did nothing other than dig her fingers into his ass through his jeans. "-- sooner, and I wouldn't have lost my ranked match," he finished complaining, before pulling out and giving a number of little cock slaps to Hana's cheek, each one making her moan out like the whore she was. The last one made her eyes wrench shut and cry out, and if Dart didn't know any better, he would think she had cummed from just that, thirty seconds of throat-fucking and a handful of cock slaps.

"So good," Hana groaned out, opening her eyes and gazing up at Dart dreamily. Maybe she did cum. He decided not to dwell on that. When Hana went to try and catch his dick with her mouth again, he smacked her away with a much rougher slap.

"You had yours. Be good or I won't let you have any more," Dart warned her. Hana, still star struck, only mumbled her assent and continued to gaze up at him, resting her cheek against Sombra's ass once more.