Time had become a viscous, forgotten concept. When Diana's mind finally surfaced from the drug-induced haze, she found herself kneeling in the suffocating, narrow gut of the Mimic. Every shallow breath she drew felt like a spark to a fuse, the lingering toxins in her blood keeping her on the razor's edge of a jagged, unwanted climax. Her divine magic felt hollow, siphoned away by the relentless greed of the beast's internal appendages.
Panic flared in her chest as she tried to shift, but a new, sickening weight in her lower body anchored her. The cramped pressure of multiple tentacles had vanished, replaced by a deep, terrifying fullness. Her womb was no longer being plundered; it was being used. The Mimic had packed her uterus with a cluster of round, parasitic eggs—smooth, white spheres that pulsed against her internal walls, greedily drinking from her soul to fuel their transformation into black, nightmare shapes.
Diana was trapped, her strength failing as the brood within began to wriggle and feed. Realizing that waiting for her magic to return would only mean her end as a husk, she snarled and swung a weakened fist against the interior shell.
Crack.
The Mimic hissed in pain as its wooden hide splintered. The tentacles within surged with new aggression, coiling around her limbs to halt her assault and hoisting her into the air. The violent shaking of her body sent a shockwave through her distended abdomen; several eggs were squeezed through her cervix and forced out of her wide, aching pussy. The sensation of the massive spheres breaching her caused an instant, explosive orgasm that shattered her resolve.
As she convulsed, the tentacles mimicked the form of leather straps, binding her into a humiliating, rigid triangle. Her wrists were pinned to her chest, mashing her heavy breasts together, while her legs were wrenched apart and pulled back until her heels touched. A final strap cinched around her middle, locking her into a state of permanent, exposed vulnerability.
In the absolute darkness of a tentacle-hood, she felt a sudden, violent jolt as the Mimic, fearful of the damage she had caused, spat her out like a piece of spoiled meat. She tumbled across the cold floor of the lab, a bound and leaking statue of her former self.
'Pathetic,' she thought, the absurdity of the situation bringing a dark, lewd amusement to her mind. 'The world's savior, trussed up and discarded.'
She lay there for an age, her body a slow-motion factory of filth. Every ten seconds, her womb would contract, pushing another fist-sized egg through her throbbing vagina. Each expulsion was accompanied by a tremor of pleasure that she could no longer fight. One by one, the white spheres wetly joined the pile between her spread legs, soaking in the pungent, musky fluids that pooled on the metal floor.
When the last egg was finally forced out with a violent gush of fluid, Diana's abdomen finally flattened. Her breathing was a ragged mess of gasps. With a lingering flicker of magic, she broke her bonds and shrunk the traumatized Mimic, tossing it and its "offspring" into separate containment units.
She didn't purge the toxins from her system. Instead, she stood on trembling legs, feeling the lewd heat of the aphrodisiac still thrumming in her veins. With every step toward the shower, her pussy leaked a fresh trail of fluid that ran down her thighs and pooled in her high heels, the fishy, primal scent of the Legion filling the sterile air of the lab. She was used to this; she was a creature of the itch now, a goddess who found her true power in the very filth she once fought to destroy.
....
.....
.....
Support my patreon and get early access to chapters
patreon.com/ImmortalDaoWriter
Don't forgot to give me powerstones.