It wasn’t long before the second egg was pushing its way through into her belly, and she was now aware that the arrival of these vessels was becoming quickly more frequent. She shuddered and gasped sharply as the second entered her womb, shivering from one end of her spine to the other, and no sooner had the third introduced itself to her quivering form.

“Hhhhh…” she tried to say, but her tongue felt thick and heavy, her muscles achingly slow to respond to her commands, even despite the energy being offered to her by her new children. “How many…”

[There are a total of fourteen,] the Wild Gods mercifully answered. [This will undoubtedly cause undue strain on your body, but worry not. These fey dragons already accept you as their maternal figure, and offer you their power. Even as your body is strained by carrying them, they will mend and even improve your abilities, both physical and magical. By the end of this process, when they again take wing to defend these very forests, you will know power the likes of which you could have only hoped for. This, Gabbriana Grilsby, is why you were chosen. You will use this newfound power with great restraint and caution. Of this, we are certain.]

During the course of the Wild Gods’ explanation, the third and fourth eggs had been planted within her womb. Already, she was feeling rather full, her belly very visibly distended, and she had no idea how she was supposed to take ten more. She was also very aware that it was far too late to get off of this ride, that she would still have to see it through. The confidence of the Wild Gods certainly helped, though. As the fifth and sixth began their journey through her body, sending her into a state of shuddering bliss and stretching her body out even further, she began to consider the words of her new benefactors.

Gabby had never cared for power, she realized. She never asked for more than what was needed. That was, unless she was at the local tavern, and short on stolen Spanish coin. She cared little for things like arcane might, or endless riches. She didn’t become a pirate in her youth to steal in order to simply line her pockets. She did it because the government always seemed to come before the individual, the idea before the person, and the nation before nature. As the seventh, eighth, and ninth eggs began to push her limits, and make her feel fit to burst, she rolled further onto her side, nearly now on her hands and knees. Even so, her train of thought was hardly broken, even as her tongue lolled out of her skull and her body prepared itself for the most incredible climax it had ever experienced.

Gabby never cared for power. Not for her own, or for anyone else’s. There was only one power that truly mattered, and that was that of the world itself. As she lay there, amidst a field of wildflowers, many of the multicolored petals coated in several strings of her drool from various parts of her body, she felt… vindicated. Nature would survive, and it would regain its former strength. Nature would retake this world, and humble those that would see it subjugated.

Such complex thoughts were becoming ever more difficult to maintain as her body struggled to contain the tenth and eleventh of the batch, her belly so incredibly distended that she already looked like she was in the end of the third term, were she simply carrying wolven pups, yet there were three yet to go. Her breath came in ragged and labored gasps, her body all but spent by now, her nervous system reaching its very limit. She could tell that very soon, she would enter a state that she would call “exhausted uselessness,” something she recognized from many a moment in her extended life. Every muscle sagged, her eyelids becoming heavy as her body began to simply quit on her.

Yet, it didn’t stop. The twelfth came, pushing her womb to even greater limits, but with each egg her body seemed to grow more resilient to the stretching, almost as if the eggs knew what they were doing, and worked even in these very early stages to repair the damage they were doing. Gabby wasn’t in pain so much as she felt uncomfortably full, her internal organs being pressed on and shoved aside to make room for these squishy spheres. Many months of pregnancy skipped through via advanced and ancient druidic magics. It both astounded her and made her wonder just what it was she was now carrying. Her toes curled hard, her fingers gripping feebly at mangled wildflowers. Her tongue hung freely from her lips and eyes widened as the thirteenth entered her womb, and the fourteenth entered her body.

She had nothing left, that second volcanic eruption of carnal release began wracking her body so hard that for a few solid moments, she genuinely lost touch with reality. Her thick and gooey thighs trembled enough that one could see the quakes in the softness of her body from afar, her enfeebled arms failed to hold her any longer, and she collapsed face first into the bed that the Wild Gods had prepared for her. As her cheek crushed the flowers, causing them to release their fragrances, she fully gave into the desires of her flesh. Now completely unable to convulse or contort, so exhausted were her muscles, she simply lay there as liquid fire spread from her very core to her fingertips, her toes, and her very addled brain. All she could do was quiver weakly and whimper incoherently as the last of those precious fey dragon eggs entered her womb, packing her to absolute capacity.

It was not over yet, however. The eggs had been planted, her belly ready to carry them to term, but there was a single missing ingredient. She could feel as the micro-tendril that had deposited the eggs withdrew from her womb, only to be replaced with another in short order. Just as with her tailhole, this new thin tendril began pumping her full of a hot, viscous fluid that seemed to cling to every surface of her belly. She whimpered and whined as the heat spread from her womb throughout her torso and into her limbs. She already knew what this substance was; fey dragon seed, in order to actually fertilize the eggs so that they could grow and flourish. It seemed to fill every single gap between every egg, packing every nook and cranny it possibly could within the tight space of her oven, ensuring that every egg had a chance to fertilize. But for Gabby, it became both exceptionally erotic and uncomfortable simultaneously, as she began to feel like a balloon that may pop if anything more were added. Thankfully, once her womb was thoroughly painted and filled with the burning substance, the thinner tendril once more withdrew into the thicker, and she felt just that much closer to free of this situation

Illustration by Cenegan024 Cenegan024

Story by CarterTheGrumpy CarterTheGrumpy

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