The eggs were far larger than those of the children. They pushed relentlessly, filling her abdominal cavity. Lyssandra watched in horrified fascination while her belly began to swell, stretching rapidly. The skin pulled taut, becoming drum-tight over the growing mass inside. The curve of her abdomen expanded visibly, projecting outward as Morgana deposited egg after egg.
Within moments, Lyssandra's stomach looked like that of a woman nine months pregnant, but larger, harder, filled with an impossible volume of alien spawn. Her bodysuit strained against her expanded form, threatening to tear.
She gasped for air, her lungs compressed, every nerve ending screaming from the internal stretching. Her cocks still throbbed uselessly, her massive, egg-filled testicles hanging like grotesque ornaments and breasts felt ready to burst. Her stomach was a taut, overstretched drum filled with writhing life.
The pressure building inside Lyssandra's tortured body reached its zenith. By a final, agonized scream tearing from her throat, the dam broke.
The spider girl between her legs reacted right away, she ripped her ovipositors free from Lyssandra's urethras and immediately slammed her hips backward, impaling herself once more on her mother's dual shafts – one in her pussy, one in her ass.
As she did, the blockage was released. A tidal wave of thick, milky semen erupted from them, surging deep into the girl's eager holes. But mixed within the creamy fluid was a torrent of eggs.
The girl screamed, her body convulsing wildly, belly swelled visibly, distending almost instantly when the eggs and semen flooded her womb and bowels.
Her skin stretched taut, the shape of individual eggs visible beneath the surface, creating bulges across her abdomen and lower back. Her orgasm hit like a freight train, fluids gushing around Lyssandra's dicks.
At the same time, the spider girls on Lyssandra's breasts withdrew their ovipositors. No sooner were they free than geysers of thick, creamy milk erupted from those abused nipples, mixed with a stream of smaller, pearlescent eggs. The milky spray arced through the air, splattering everything.
Morgana withdrew her thick ovipositor from her mistress's mouth. Immediately, Lyssandra's stomach heaved. She convulsed violently, her body rejecting the giants eggs filling her gut.
"gag—retch—HURK—blegh"
After a choking, retching sound, she vomited. A flood of thick, glistening slime erupted from her mouth, and with it came the eggs Morgana had deposited. They tumbled out onto the silk sofa, slick and coated in stomach fluids. Enormous, ostrich-sized orbs.
Simultaneously, a horrifying pressure built in Lyssandra's bowels. Her sphincter gave way, more eggs, these just as large as those from her stomach came out from her anus in disgusting, wet expulsion. They hit the floor behind her, rolling slightly in their own viscera.
"YES! YES! FILL HER!" one of the masturbating girls shrieked, her fingers working furiously between her legs while she watched her sister swell by eggs and seed. "TAKE IT ALL! BREED HER! BREED MOMMY!"
"Look! So many eggs! From everywhere!" another gasped, rubbing her own clit frantically.
"Mommy's leaking! Her milk! Her eggs! Her guts! So good!" a third moaned, plunging fingers deep into her own dripping slit.
Lyssandra's body was a landscape of chaotic upheaval. Her shafts pulsed inside the egg-stuffed daughter, her breasts spewed milk and eggs, her mouth vomited eggs, and her ass expelled them. Every orifice was violated and overflowing.
She collapsed back against Morgana, utterly spent, gasping for breath. The spider girl impaled on her poles slumped forward, filled beyond capacity, bulbous bump visibly shifting beneath her stretched skin.
Morgana gently stroked Lyssandra's hair, her voice a soothing murmur amidst the devastation. "There, there, Mistress… It is done. Our children are seeded."
For several long, labored breaths, the only sounds were ragged gasps and the wet, rhythmic squelching of the spider girls pleasuring themselves as they stared at the aftermath.
Slowly, Lyssandra's violated body began the miraculous process of recovery. The stretched, swollen testicles skin began to tighten, the distension receding. They shrank back towards their normal, albeit still impressively large, size, the bulbous shapes of the eggs disappearing when they were expelled.
Her breasts deflated slightly, the pressure of the intruding objects easing, the over-tight skin smoothing back. Milk still dripping but the gushing stream had slowed to a trickle.
Her abdomen, horrifically distended just moments before, contracted. The taut skin softened, the vile curve receding as the last of the large eggs were pushed out from within.
Her sphincter clenched tightly, sealing the passage once more, though a thin trail of fluids leaked down her inner thighs.
Lyssandra groaned, still panting heavily. "I… I think… some are still inside," she rasped, her voice hoarse. Her hands clenched reflexively on the breasts of the two daughters who had been suckling. She squeezed hard, fingers digging into soft flesh, leaving angry red marks.
"Ow! Mommy, too hard!" one cried out, wincing.
"You're crushing me!" the other gasped, trying to pry Lyssandra's fingers loose.
Ignoring their complaints, Lyssandra strained, grunting with effort. She bore down hard, pushing against the residual pressure in her gut. Her face contorted, a deep flush spreading across her cheeks.
"NNNNGGGHHH!" she grunted, her entire body tensing.
Suddenly, her efforts paid off. With a series of wet, vulgar PLOP sounds, several more large eggs erupted from her anus in rapid succession. They hit the floor with heavy, wet smacks, adding to the already significant pile of viscous-coated orbs.
She sagged back, utterly exhausted. "There… that's… all… I think," she panted, finally releasing the bruised breasts of her daughters.
The spider girls rubbed their tender flesh, but their eyes were still wide with fascination and lingering lust while looking at the pile of eggs scattered around the room.
"So many, Mommy!" one breathed.
"You laid so much!" another exclaimed, still rubbing her sore breast. "It was amazing!"
Lyssandra closed her eyes, utterly spent, her body recovering but her mind reeling from the overwhelming sensations. The brood house was silent except for the heavy breathing and the occasional drip of bodily fluids.
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Deep within the oppressive, sweltering heat of the Withering Jungle, far from the dark depths of Nazas Dungeon, two shadow goblins crouched low in the dense undergrowth near a mountainous slope. They wore dark clothing that blended with the shadows, their faces obscured by hoods. Their eyes gleamed with intelligence that set them apart from their more brutish kin.
"Ready?" one of them – Two – hissed to his companion.
"Ready," Three replied, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze was fixed on the dark, yawning cave entrance ahead.
"Go," Two commanded, raising a clenched fist. Behind them, lurking silently in the vegetation, were two dozen lightning wolves. Their fur crackled with barely contained energy, eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
As one, the wolves burst from cover. They spread out in a predetermined pattern, encircling the base of the slope, focusing intently on the cave entrance.
Their paws made no sound on the forest floor as they melted into the shadows and foliage, their movements coordinated through unspoken cues.
"Bring it out," Two ordered.
One of the wolves padded forward silently. It dropped a freshly killed deer carcass, a lure roughly 50 meters from the cave mouth then disappeared back into the jungle.
The two goblins settled into thick ferns, their bodies invisible in the dappled shadows. "Now we wait."
Time crawled by, measured in the buzz of insects and the distant cries of jungle predators. Then, a sound from the cave: a heavy shuffling and wet snort. A massive, hulking shape emerged from the darkness.
It was an ogre. Towering nearly three meters tall, its body was a landscape of thick, corded muscle covered in a coarse. Small, beady eyes scanned the surroundings from beneath a heavy brow ridge.
It sniffed the air, its large, pig-like nose twitching when it caught the scent of fresh meat. Spotting the deer carcass, it lumbered forward, footfalls surprisingly light for its bulk. It reached the lure, bending down to scoop up the carcass.
But as it straightened, the ogre froze. The small eyes darted around, sensing the unnatural stillness, the faint scent of wolf and goblin on the air.
The beast dropped the carcass and spun around, alarming at the sight of shadows closing in from every side.
That was the signal.