We have the waghnolgy

 Belladonna Arnell sauntered through the tribe without a care in the world, a broad smile painted violet upon her face and lazy, half-lidded eyes looking about. It was always a lovely time walking through the bulk of the tribe, moving from the cliffside homes into the flatter plateaus that made up the communal centers. Her feet were bare as they walked along the ground, soles dirtied from a habit of no longer wearing shoes, or only sandals when she could obtain them. Every so often the wizard would look from side to side to gauge the stares of the other Oni, even looking behind to see if anyone followed her through the crowds and huts. Children stared at her, mothers, fathers, she was indeed an odd one out among the red skinned demons, but never an unpleasant view. Her pale skin was currently a nice light bronze, days in the sun and jungle air having brought her complexion from a bookish, sun-deprived alabaster to a healthy golden brown. And her form, having been somehow even more pampered than it had been in her lavish keep, had changed to show it. Already thick before, Belladonna had grown to be a visage of corpulence and health. Her tits were massive, pear shaped things with plate sized areolas and bottlecap sized nipples. The darkened pink flesh adorned tankards that were a fair amount above head sized, and even beaded a small dollop of milk every so often to drip into the ground below. Her stomach, now always a slight dome, was perhaps the crown jewel of her form. A popped out naval sported a gold ring, intricate and designed like to coiled snakes biting at her nub, the thing clinking with every step. The wizard was adorned in tattoos of ownership and art, but none were so prominent, or indeed so lived by the wizard as the ones that circled her stomach. Above her bellybutton was a pink, intricately designed heart, ribbons of red and pink interlocking above her navel into a fist-sized show of affection. Three smaller hearts, each thumb sized flanked it, all arranged so that they pointed their bottom points towards her navel. One to the right and two to the left they seemed to form the beginnings of a circle, if the preliminary outline that followed the rim of those hearts down to below her navel were any indication. Her hips ballooned out to match the width her tits created, each step causing an ever so slight quake in the fatty flesh. And her rear, now a set of fleshy, bronze orbs that shook like jello with every step, both due to their fatty content and Bella's own intent. Every step popped up one of the rear globes, pushing up her grassy skirt and showing off not only her ample rear, but her bottomless crotch as well. Labial folds, a slightly dark red and parted to the sides, allowed a breeze to rush across her glazed nethers, the freedom both a convenience and a slight little shot to all the other men of the tribe. She was a powerful wizard in her own right, a flash of violet green flame whenever an oni approached was enough to dissuade them and prove that, but more importantly she was the wife, if it could be called that, to one of the most up and running warriors in the whole tribe. In fact, her current walk was just because of his prominence, an apparent plan going down at the main medicine woman huts needing her attendance. A  younger oni child had come bearing the news, and a quick little bit of breastfeeding the eager boy later Belladonna was on her way. Now the smell of incense and burning herbs was thick in the air, and The wizard broke into a slight jog in her eagerness to arrive. Her form quaking and bouncing as she did, it eventually stopped when she reached the entrance to the hut, the wizard pushing the canvas door brazenly aside as she walked in.

"Ooog deeeear~, just what is it you're up to that you couldn't come and tell me yourself~" Belladonna said in a teasing voice, her eyes scanning to see what it was that these chieftans and shaman were planning.


  Her stride obviously garnered followers and onlookers, the more foolish and antsy of the men finding themselves drawn in like moths to the flame before the threat of burning was given. From the older ones, including the chieftain and all those near equally corpulent, breeding touched wives, there was nothing but a sense of reverence, even familiarity and jovial hopefulness that are expressed with delighted smiles and encouraging whispers that get drowned out by the bustle of children or warriors throughout the village. She enters the very same hut she'd been to countless times. It's large, completely in tune with the massive sizes that many of the oni grow to, but for the moment it's surprisingly barren save for the coven of shamans currently tending to their various wares. Near windows and to the side, there are massive pots filled with smoldering roots and leaves that not only release that oh so heady incense into the air around the place, but also serve as a sort of farming station for the ashes used in rituals and potions. Cauldrons modeled closely after the ones the wizard herself use sit near the back, bubbling with some ungodly brew surely gleaned and taught from that very same woman while combined with that special oni kick, one that even has some plants that were surely not so lush and vibrant growing in windowsills above. It's obvious that the place usually doubles as a ward of some sorts, but even the beds are empty save for a shaman or two chatting across from them in their native tongue, some to teach and others to share experience. They're so without visitors that a section is even walled off with some massive expanse of fur draped from the ceiling, various women rushing in and out from beneath the mass, some stopping when they see what can only be viewed as a bronzed goddess arriving and giggling as they get back to work. The head Shaman meets with Bella, easily a few feet taller than her, but holding a demeanor that's almost respectful. Her breasts could easily swallow Bella's torso should the woman find herself between them, ashen skin so taut and flawless upon her that even she seems like a godly figure when compared to others. Nipples are inverted, leaving nothing but somewhat brown areola that could surely swallow a man's face on display, prominent nubs surely hidden in the pit of softness they create. Her hips look as if they'd better fit a cow her size, waist surprisingly narrow considering her assets, though they're lined with a belt of various herbs and vials that surely help to have her stomach bloated in moments should she desire. Various designs litter her frame, but none are so prominent than the tattoo on her stomach bearing a striking resemblance to Bella's. The only difference is that the number of hearts circling round her navel form a pair of circles, one wider than the other. Ruby red hair flows down like a lion's mane from her head, the skull of some beast used as a beret to decorate it. "Bella... You know why you here, yes?" She smiles, and even moves to put her hands cocked on her hips , proudly baring that tattoo on her stomach while golden eyes twinkle in adoration. Her voice, once almost as untamed and gritty as Og's, has found a gentleness to it befitting a woman so intricately woven into the tribe's circle of life. Time around not only Bella, but all of her spawn and even Og himself has given her a knack for human language, always opting for that save for her normal tribal speak. "You bring great gifts to village... To Og. He near even chieftain with you at side, and he only grow stronger and wiser every day."

 Belladonna Arnell looked up to the head shaman with reverence and awe, the wizard bowing her head and crouching her form with respect as she approached. A warm smile graced the wizard's lips, her respect for the woman unending. She had been a joy to work with ever since her indoctrination into the tribe, The two not only having shared lurid times together, but academic ones as well. Belladonna had learned of the many alchemical secrets the oni harbored, and in turn the wizard shared her own knowledge of alchemy and magic. Belladonna found a sort of academy here among the shaman women, a place of intellectual stimulation that coupled the wonderfully physical joy she gained from her husband. Belladonna, knowing full well that she could never rise to the giant stature these oni sported, could only dream that she too could become as much of a fertile, fleshy hotbed as the more experiences women. Belladonna licked her lips as she eyed up the twin circle of hearts that adorned the shaman's own stomach, Bella once more pressing her hands down upon her own stomach in a bit of maternal envy. When she heard talk of Chieftain hood, the wizard's eyes bulged, a broad smile arcing across her face once more. "Goodness, Ogreis could be chief? why thats wonderful news! and the first I heard of it!" Belladonna stated before clapping her hands together, rushing forward to hug around the waist and leg of the taller Oni, squeezing herself tight in thanks before pulling back. "although...I mean no offense, but I don't know why it is I'm hear. I was told that my presence was desired among the Shaman and that was it. Is there some new brew you are working on? does it have to do with Og? he has been rather absent these last few days. He's not even been home for supper or his usual nightly rut as of recent, is he well?" Belladonna asked, looking past the Shaman chief to the canvas that so many handmaidens were rushing in and out of.

 Gana becomes almost gets giddy from the contact, and before Bella has the chance to move away, a skull swallowing palm is run along her head before the woman moves even closer to the canvas, taking a seat on one of the many beds and offering a seat beside her with a gentle pat. Of course, it's nothing more than a cushioned mat on the stone floor, but even that has been elevated from simple straw and hide to something with a bit more thickness, keeping a sense of softness for even the burliest of patients that might find it. Her legs cross indian style, giving a more than generous peek at her well used womanhood. Perpetually inflamed, glistening lower lips stay half parted for even the moment's hint of breeding, clit swollen into a near thumb sized buzzer that still manages to be half hidden underneath the fiery red crotch fuzz that blooms above. Even without the mat she would be comfortable, the massive globes that are her ass slightly misshapen now thanks to the pressure, meaty thighs getting the same treatment despite their musculature. "There many traditions in tribe Bella. Many customs and secrets must be kept till proper time, many dangers we not ready to face." She holds out a hand, and in a moment's time there's a woman putting pouch filled with some odd solid in the Head's outstretched palm, only to find herself swept into the flow of women moving in and out of the cloth. "You help us grow better. Og able to fight beasts we never hope to conquer, you teach things never seen to us. We live long, but prime is short lived all in all." A pensive stare finds the floor infront of her, before a bright one is flashed to Bella. "We take much time to consider. Even Chieftain approves of you. So we make sure that you and Og able to to bring more strength to tribe. We keep Og away and groom him. Make him into man who far surpass Chief. Make him into man who bear even stronger children~ We do the same for you now."

 Belladonna Arnell Licked at her lips as she saw the fleshy folds of the Shaman's sex, the parted, well used flesh showing off the shaman woman's impressive experience, no doubt filled with enough years of fucking to easily put belladonna through the ringer. The wizard hoped to one day boast such experience and use, but those were thoughts for another time. At the moment, she sat next to the Shaman chief, her own legs going cross as her fat rear pooled out against the cushions and furs. The wizard listened intently as the woman regaled her, praised her for what she had brought to the tribe and how she had changed them as they changed her. It was a wonderful flattery really, she had never thought that her willing captivity here would be so comfortable, and so well received. On the musings of one's own fertility belladonna bit her tongue, the woman working personally in research on extending biological clocks. She had already worked upon the process for herself, and hoped to extend herself so that it would be a long, long time before barrenness took her, if she could have her way it never would, and she hoped that she could extend that gift to the rest of the tribe's women. But that was for another time, personal projects not yet finished to be spoken of. A mad blush ran across her face at the Shaman chief's plan, the thought of her and Og rising to status of chieftain thrilling her to the core, filling her mind with thoughts of power and leadership, and what she could do for the tribe in such a state. She eyed the pouch as it was handed off to the Shaman, and when she spoke of what they planned for her a small gasp escaped her list. "Goodness...so that would mean that Og is over there?" Belladonna said, pointing to the canvas before shaking her head, understanding that there were more important things at hand than where her dear husband stud was. "Well, My dear, I am honored in every way. I graciously accept your gift, and allow you to preen my form as you see fit." Belladonna said warmly, shuffling her sitting position to face the Shaman and bowing herself forward, her tits polling out against her legs as she bent forward.


 The Shaman smiles, one that's relaxed and eased onto her face after seconds of realization. Her free hand moves to stroke through the woman's raven locks once more before she pulls it away, bringing that pouch around and slowly spreading it open, pinching about in the insides. "You are good woman, Bella. Many women look up to you now, many more will after this~ First, we have you feast on secret meal." She finally produces a wad of what seems to be some sort of gum, though it drips scarlet red, sticky juices that dribble down the ashen flesh of the Shaman's arm from even the faintest of squeezes. "This one of many secrets we bestow upon you today. Culmination of many years testing and brewing. We only able to make small amounts, but this bring energy for many suns and moons with even this much." She lowers it to the kneeling woman while the other oni begin to bustle as well, once idle members now moving to shroud the door and pull out various tools and mats. "Eat. You need all of strength you have for our blessing~"

 Belladonna Arnell looked reverently at the putty like stuff that was pulled from the pouch, the wizard staring with curiosity upon the balled up red substance. She held out her hands to take red jelly as she bowed her head, the slightly warm stuff rolling about in her palms. She hesitated, for a brief moment, rolling it about in her palms, allowing the sweet-smelling juices to cling to her palms. But then, finally, she upended her palms and dropped the gum into her mouth, closing purple painted lips and beginning to chew. It was a sweet substance, sweet yes spicy, a taste that danced across her nerves and cleared her sinuses within moments of contact upon her mouth. She chewed it for a moment before swallowing, the heat that coated her mouth now flowing down into her gullet with a throat bulging gulp. Soon that warmth spread outward, the odd drug quickly activating within her system, faint warmth turning to an impressive tingling as the wizard's hands immediately moved to her sides. She hugged herself as she began to mouth breathe, Panting with a now red-stained tongue lolling out of her now sweet smelling mouth. "G-goodness! what a rush! To think such a stimulant has been a secret, I could work for...gah, for days on end with this!" Belladonna stated, her hands sinking into her fleshy sides as the tingling continued, her body feeling as though she could sprint through the tribe for hours with this substance in her system.

 Gana actually chuckles at her reaction, even while fingers snap to bring that horde of ashen skinned birthers around the object of their augmentations. "We still only make little. Thoughts of making more not good, village run wild with too much if we could make more~" The bag is taken away soon enough ,and eventually even the head Shaman stands barking out phrases in her native tongue that are responded to near immediately. A handful of lesser shamans are upon Bella in an instant, clasping against her gravid form even while sitting and carrying her along towards a pile of mattress like mats that have been secured as a sort of nest for her, coverings and sheets so pristine that they almost shine in comparison to the earthen tones of the hut. What's more, it doesn't even seem as if these women are the usual handmaidens that find themselves in the place most often. They're as muscular as some of the warriors and hunters, though they sport breeding heavy frames that rival even the village's beauties (Bella notwithstanding of course~).  Breasts that could swallow their own heads leaking milk constantly down pudge laden middles, hips that sway and saunter like a cow's due to their width, asses that aren't even able to ripple thanks to the sheer musculature and bulk that claims them. Even their horns are regal and proud, though their bodies have a surprising lack of tattoos save for the hands that currently sink into Bella's bronzed flesh. Their grip is soft at first, but by the time they're lowering the wizard down, they've become tinged with an envy fueled gluttony that as a few of them kneading just a second more than necessary before they pull away. Their hands seem to have been dipped in vines with the intricacy of those tattoos, as if nature itself had clung feverishly to those palms and left it's mark all the way up to elbows and shoulders. Palms themselves are adorned with rosy red petals that bloom from the very center and outstretch along fingers, the back of those appendages sporting the verdant green starting of their tribal markings in full. "These hands will mold you, Bella" Gana speaks out again, standing a few heads higher than those amazon like helpers even now. "They gift your body with every blessing, just as nature gift us with knowledge. When all done, you and Og will be new leaders. Birth more children. Bring tribe to greatness~" Another barking out in their native tongue, and the flurry begins again. Like a well oiled machine, they bring out various gourds and pots. Some hands brandish tools worked from stone, wood and even metal, some sporting medicine bowls surely filled with some powder or salve ready for application. They line up like soldiers preparing for battle, the first wave already knelt beside the wizard with bared hands. "On your ready, Dearest Bella."

 Belladonna Arnell gasped as she was hefted up by the stronger maidens, the wizard's body quaking as it was groped and handled by Gana's subordinates. Belladonna moaned out with each and every touch, her oversexed form responding easily to the strong hands that moved her. Belladonna's own were of course swift to grope as well. She pawed at the odd head-sized tit, or at a hip, or ran her fingers through the lovely hair of the arm-painted Oni. She was even so brazen to, as she was set down, grip one of the retreating girls by the hair, bringing her into a deep, tongue-filled kiss, the juicy sweet taste of the Oni stimulant still upon her tongue as she drooled into the sculptors mouth. As the wizard broke away from the heady kiss, she marveled at the shine of the fabric she now sat upon, her body pooling out against the cushions and pseudo mattress. Belladonna marveled at the parade of medicine women that soon surrounded her, lining up on her side and behind Gana, the sight of all those tools, salves, powders and so forth causing the wizard to lick her lips in anticipation. The thought of being molded into a better breeding tool, the idea of joining Ogreis as head of this wonderful tribe. The idea of such a transformation utterly thrilled her to the core, the fabrics around her crotch soon soaking a touch as her feminine ooze dripped out from her spread petals. Were it not for all the incense and fumes within the hut there would have been the distinctly spicy odor of feminine need, but it was far too overpowered by the work this wonderful hut was doing. Belladonna looked up to Gana as she spoke, the thought of turning into a gravid, full idol of fertility causing no end of delight to the heady necromancer. Closing her eyes, Bella allowed her head to fall back onto the pillows, the anticipation and suspense of her procedure causing a slight shiver to her body. "I am ready Gana, please begin~" Belladonna stated, her hands gripping into the flesh of her stomach as she awaited her operation.

 The kiss leaves that poor girl stunned, something that's obvious as when she finally files back into line, the rest of the women standing proud and tall while she has a visible anticipation in her, chest heaving slightly as she takes labored breaths. Bella cant see the little grin that takes Gana's face before she gives out another order, but she can surely feel the fervor in those touches as they rain down on her. A set of women comes first, hands dipped in massive urns filled with some special oil that has nerves tingling wildly the moment a drop graces skin. It smells of the dense, plant filled jungle for the most part, but there's an obvious, oh so familiar masculine tinge that can only be found on that oh so beloved oni hidden away from his wife. Palms are absolutely soaked in the stuff at all times, starting with a slow, steady massage that has Bella's hands, feet, arms and legs assaulted and molested in a thorough rhythm, stopped periodically before the hands that grace her can even become even slightly dry for a new batch of 'oil' to be lathered onto them. As it sinks into bronzed flesh, slowly forced down into pores and against dermis raw, it sends a sort of pang through her system. Some powerful, sudden jolts of pleasure filled agony that are dulled the moment they touch her core, eventually leaving her with nothing but pleasure. As the massage continues, they find their way towards her chest, her head and shoulders, her hips and oh so close to her thighs, half lifting her up to grasp at her rear and find her back as well. Those bodies are warm, anxious, dripping with sweat along with that oil and pressing in so hard that muscles have no choice to yield to their assault. They grab hungry handfuls of softness whenever they reach it, powerful digits sinking deep into that maternal excess, shifting across every inch of skin they can find. On her face, they pay extra attention to her lips. A pair of hands makes sure that digits find their way against the lush pillows, pinching them and nudging right inbetween that crevice where they meet to beckon her mouth open. It even tastes like Og, whatever leaves and veggies they've extracted this brew from unable to tame his presence. Along her chest? Each breast gets a pair of hands to stimulate it. They start from her chestplate and slowly squeeze upwards, not only hefting those enormous mounds of creamy delight but ensuring that every drop of milk is properly captured as well, nipples pinched painfully tight whenever they find a bowl or container is filled to the brim till the sound of shuffling feet signals that a new set has come to take that life bestowing burden. They mash their palms in as hard as they can, thumbs poking nipples down and forcibly grinding them within areola at times just to coax out thicker gouts of her bounty, only for the plugs to be released when the next jar or bowl is supplied. Against her thighs is a more lurid affair. As maidens work upwards, she can feel their chiseled frames coated in oil and not so ashamedly trembling with pleasure themselves. Lips manage to keep from touching her, but thighs are clamped round each of her legs, womanhood ground slow and deliberate against her as hips roll and rock, breasts practically flattened against her middle while they struggle to contain their desires. Hands have busied themselves with eachother and her frame. When they aren't gathering oil for the ritual frottage, they're lathering it down on her womb, circling her tattoos and piercing before clenching hard against her stomach, almost as if trying to touch that inner sanctum through her flesh. Below? They're almost angrily fighting for rights over an ass neither of them could hope to conquer alone. Between Bella and sheets, knuckles bump and scrape against eachother with every crude grope and squeeze, forcing her flesh inbetween their fingers in less of a massage and more of an indulgent frenzy. Whenever one hand finds another, they're only managing to squeeze harder as if one might feel the other. Sometimes they surge forward in real-estate, tips of their fingers tickling against the wizard's anal ring without abandon, fingers occasionally slipping inside only for what must be crude smacks to their own rears to remind them that this is less a contest and more a ceremony. One thing they both adhere to is that her groin is completely left untouched. They barely even manage to find themselves high enough up on her thighs to brush it, and even then they make it a point to move fingers away from that oh so noticeable softness.

 Belladonna Arnell could not help but moan as she felt that oily substance sink into her skin, soaking the golden brown flesh as if it were a sponge for the stuff. She could smell Og right away within the stuff, the smell of her lover and mate having been long ago ground into her memory. The smell of the pre, of jungle life, of fertility and growth, it invaded her nostrils and set her mind ablaze with pleasure. It reminded the wizard of their first encounter those years ago, when she assumed she could so easily tame the stud. She remembered how he stated so simply that he was going to knock her up, and that she would be kept his mate from there on out. She remembered feeling a bit of sadness as she was dragged away over his shoulder back to his home, his conquest and his concubine. How could she have ever felt sad, looking back on it now. She was worshiped, valued, not only by him but their newfound peers. His stench was seemingly worked into her skin through the ashen handmaidens, their reverent touches forcing out her skin and undoing what were no doubt months of stress and tension that had built up in her system. Her mind was flooded with memories of her time with Og, her first birth, her indoctrinations into the tribe, all those nights getting pumped full by her stone-faced lover, the way he almost would selfishly take his pleasure, much to the wizard's delight. She remembered teaching the shaman folk, being on display with og railing her from behind.  all throughout the drip from her crotch redoubled, now visible strands of the stuff falling down into the fabric beneath, thick ropes of clear, spicy feminine slime. The wizard was by no means silent in her appreciation of the work these wonderful Oni were doing. Every grab of her rear was met with a huff or croon, a finger past the fleshy donut of her rear bringing out a 'gaahn~' before it was swiftly retracted. And the milking, the sensation of her tits being emptied for all their worth brought heated panting to the wizard, eyes held shut as she simply savored the sensory high that came from all these hands upon her. Whenever her nipple was pinched there would be a hiss, and whenever one stuck a thumb within her nipple a moan deeper than the others could be heard, that digit sinking into the yielding ducts, the wizard's breasts not unused to larger insertions, and almost hungrily sucking on the digit before it was pulled out to begin filling another basin. It was a wonderfully soft, new feeling, this massage, coming off of ravaging sex and often wonderfully aggressive birthings, but all the while the wizard thought of her dear Stud, how he could rise to such a wonderful status through her aid, how he could fill her with oh so many children after all this. "Aaahn~, hnnf~, Oog, Oooog~" She moaned out in a half daze, her hips slowly thrusting upwards under the grip of the gals as she was caught in her trance. It got to the point where two lumps seemed to form in her skin, each the size of a ping pong ball as her ovaries enflamed beneath the skin, pumping cellular eggs into her core until the waters of her uterus were foggy with the things. Belladonna, were she in a better state, would have made note to put tattoos there, as a mark of pride in her maternity, were it not for the very drug-induced haze that was causing the very inflammation also fogging her brain of clear thought.


 Her already quite lurid endowments don't go unnoticed, some odd coos and ahs of wonder filling the air as the women begin to explore them. The pair handling her teats eventually start to focus more on those nipples, less concerned with her actual anointing and more for sating their curiosity as burly digits find themselves plunged deep into those gaping milk portals. It only makes that oil that continues to drip off of them hit harder within her system, now able to rebound within her chest almost independently, their digits actually managing to scrape against the very ducts that produce her cream with every rough jab. The one to her right even begins to take joy in forcing that clogged hole to produce milk regardless of the obstruction, often groping and massaging so harshly that it fountains out against her exposed chest. Meanwhile, along Bella's lower half, the women forget their quarrels long enough to almost intimately circle around those bulging egg factories. They're instinctively aware of what they hold, and while that rough palming of her actual uterus continues halfheartedly, digits often find themselves pinching and nudging the swollen spheres, sometimes pushing them back into the pudge of Bella's stomach only to marvel as they rise again. They forget their purpose and begin to kiss and lick along them, rough, bumpy, oni tongue rolling in steady, heavy laps that are then smothered by beestung, sumptuous lips. The woman currently lathering the wizard's face down almost frowns in jealousy, though instead she simply does her best to make sure the chieftain to be's wife is as prepared for the next step as possible. Fingers start to find nostrils, completely engrossing her with her beloved husband's scent and now letting that oil take full effect, even the annals of her brain under fire from the constant pulsations of dull pleasure rolling through her form. She hooks and hikes, pulls and nudges to make sure each nasal cavity is so thoroughly coated that she'd have a hard time believing a needy oni cock isn't infront of her face right at that moment, oil overflowing from her nose like snot when she's finally done. A few orders are given and, woefully, the woman begin to remove themselves from Bella's frame, already chatting amongst themselves and surely exploring their own bodies, as if to plan for becoming more like the woman they just prepped. Bella's left like that for barely a minute before a new set of presence is brought about her. It's just a pair, but from the clamor of feet against floor, it's obvious they are being assisted and handed items. The pair seems to be in total control at the moment as well, for grunts in unison from both have hands restraining Bella's limbs, arms raised above her head and held there while legs are spread apart at the knees, ensuring that her overworked flower is completely exposed. One of them manages a gruff "Open" while the sound of sloshing liquid is heard, a set of fingers on Bella's mouth her only indication of which hole she's referring to.

 Belladonna Arnell could practically hear ringing in her ears as she felt hands upon her ovaries, the sensation of those most precious egg factories being prodded through her skin sending lightening upon her form. Each time they were prodded, or poked, or squeezed there was a shark sensation of pleasure, laced with a touch of pain as more eggs were forced out of the worshipped ovaries. It was enough to have belladonna hitching with delight, her hips bucking and her legs spasming whenever those cell factories were prodded. and of course, her tits, now being prodded like fingertraps continued to release their bounty, the feeling of fullness that came from digits pressing into her ducts a wonderful sensation. Belladonna's mind pictured her little spawn prodding their tongues within those fleshy, textured holes, or her lover fucking them as if they were another womb. The very notion of cum leaking from her tits like milk was a wonderful one to the wizard, one that her her delighted, setting her mind ablaze with thoughts of what other ways her body could be used for pleasure, how else she could be contorted to please her stud. A gasp of surprise accompanied a jarring from those thoughts as fingers were suddenly inserted into her nostrils, more of that odd oil being deposited directly into her sinuses, burning like water up the nose as it first occurred. But it only allowed her to better take in the scent of Og, the smell of his pre, his sweat, his masculine reek. In her mind, with eyes held tightly shut, she was being handled by bundles of her husband, the stern-faced oni aggressively kneading her, members filthy with sweat and dried cum, balls sending up a visible fog of musk. She wanted so desperately to bury herself in their crotches, to allow herself to be pounded into the dirt, with nothing between her form and his. She desperately craved such attention, and as the oni handmaidens began to depart from her, the wizard was left mewling in response, her form writhing against the bed until she was restrained by the new shamans. The wizard's own sweaty pits were put on display as arms were lifted up, wiry purple hairs sending up a salty, tangy odor to any close enough to smell it. Belladonna certainly couldn't all she could smell was her lover's musk upon her nostrils, buzzing her brain and making her compliant as could be. Even now, as she was told to open, her mouth parted immediately, fat purple lips framing a pink, sticky maw. Pearly teeth were peeled back far as possible while that oral muscle writhed within the sweltering hole, sometimes lolling out but most often dredging up strands of drool that would go taut before collapsing back into the fleshy pink mass of her mouth.

 There's barely a sound as soon as those lips part, hands expertly tilting some jug filled to the brim with a near drool thick, lukewarm substance that tastes of citrusy fruit and delights. It flows like quicksilver, almost worming it's way down her throat from gravity alone and spilling into her stomach to meet that morsel from before. That boundless energy turns into fatigue washing relaxation that's only amplifying the effects of the 'massage' from before, muscles suddenly losing any and all fight as they're forcibly shut down from the inside out. Hands continue to hold those limbs of course, if only to ensure that they stay in place, but for the most part, their touch is so superficial that it's scarcely needed. When the contents are emptied, more orders are given from the leading pair, hands occasionally simply letting a limb lie in favor of grabbing or moving whatever odd things they request. It's not long till Bella can feel the touch of stone against her, some polished, obviously phallic, arm thick end managing to find her sopping wet entrance while a pair of sharp, stinger like objects find both nipples. A slightly bewildered grunt comes next, an exploratory finger pushed deep into the leaking, gaped out teat before it's pulled away with another pensive hum. One more string of terse commands has the stingers removed, only to be replaced at their entrances with almost spherical protrusions lined with studs. Then, at once, they begin to push forward. The 'dildo' is only slightly slimmer than Og is all around, but the actual shaft is lined with massive nubs that push and grind heavy against her inner walls. They drag heavy against every little wrinkle, caress every shuddering fold, hit each and every cluster of nerves that line her insides till it's pushing at her inner sanctum. A twist and shove later and it's knocking at the back of her egg basted womb, the very end of that tool just barely pushed past her spread petals. At her breasts, it seems as if a series of plugs are being pushed inside of her. The sphere is actually attached to a rod of sorts, and after the first plum sized lumps push past her nipples, she finds just barely a moment of reprieve before then next pair are pushing inside, and the next and the next. They force inside of her till there's five studded orbs grinding heavy in each breast, almost painfully straightened with an almost funnel like end keeping her nipples flattened against areola. The only thing keeping them from being pushed out by natural pressure is the oh so clinging studs digging heavy into her milky insides, and soon enough even that's giving way due to the sheer slickness. A pair of hands actually has to find her breasts again, half hefting them upwards just to make sure the apparatuses stay inside.

 Belladonna Arnell Didn't exactly expect to feel her muscles begin shutting down, her limbs growing heavy as the fruity dense liquid funneled down her throat, depressing her tongue and forming a sort of solid river of the stuff as it flowed down her gullet. Each swallow of the heavy gunk is followed with a bulged out throat, the 'glkglkglk' of hurried chugging resounding among the shaman women. Its actually rather impressive how Bella managed to pound back the stuff, a testimony perhaps to how used she is to her lover's dense and massive loads, her gullet having been trained over some years swallowing the stuff to take such massive quantities. Belladonna felt relaxed, numb almost, whatever that stuff was tingling her nerves and dulling her senses. Her body felt flabby, more weight than muscle, and it was such that Belladonna could scarcely speak, only moans or a slurred, drool-laden approximation to a word escaping her slack maw. The dildo being forced within her cunt was a pleasent surprise, a feeling of fullness that the wizard had been desperately craving. As it bumped up against her cervix, the massive polished stone was kissed by her inner wall, the fleshy inner ring seemingly molded for milking rather than barring entrance. As it did, a bit of her egg-filled miasma was let loose, a small river of feminine ooze the foggy opacity of soup stock beginning to pool at her crotch, powdery white and a testament to just how much her oversexed form was still pumping out. "aaaaaaahahaahh~, Aaaaooooooogh~" Bella moaned out in her stupor, her petals squeezing around the wonderfully stimulating stone length, the nubs and bumps scraping at her insides and scratching itches that had been forming since this procedure had began. To say that the 'operation' her tits were receiving was arduous would have been a misstatement. It was filled with pressure, and it had sweat beading on the wizard's forehead, but the feeling of those odd bumpy stone eggs being held in her chest was a wonderful thing. It was as though they were creating a resevoir within her own chest, a preliminary storage tank for all her ducts to empty into, a cavity made so that milk wasn't wasted within her system, but stored. In belladonna's own mind she imagined the lumps as more wonderful Oni children, each tit a womb for more wonderful litters of kin to be birthed from. She was half aware that that wasn't the genuine case, but so doped up on oni medicine as she was, her mind was flickering between the reality of the situation and her own perverse, whorish fantasies.

 A word or two is given from some of the assistants, surely marveling in how utterly fertile and bountiful the woman they prepare is already. The only words that come from the leaders are commands, and all at once Bella can feel the results on her system. Those tools are meant both to keep her spread wide and as some sort of psuedo 'syringes', the sound of fluids rolling about sounding off once more as extra weight is added to already heavy objects to almost anchor them inside of her. Nubs are revealed to have pores only though the sensation of foreign liquid seeping out of them, and with every weak clench onto or slight shifting of those objects, more and more of the stuff leaks out as the shamans work them into the wizard's frame. Breasts seen to light aflame with some intense, pyre like pleasure that seems to spawn from every single cell that produces milk, plugs purposefully tugged upon and swirled about to ensure not only that her teats are well worked, but also to make sure that every single inch of those insides are evenly coated in the mystery fluid. It's constant, some never ending pyre that only seems to grow the longer it burns through her nerves, something that's made worse by the sensitivity it brings. Even that faint pressure holding her tits aloft seems to shoot straight through the pillowy masses just to echo off of the tools inside, shooting right back out into her brain only for the process to start over again. That harsh sensitivity is focused much more ruthlessly on her actual nipples as well, those few inches of entrance almost electric when compared to that white hot intensity that assails her tits. As if to torture her, a set of fingers finds the poor nubs and squeezes down, not only trapping whatever excess might be building up inside but also grinding the hypersensitive flesh against the venom leaking spheres more and more, cementing their affect on her. At her cunt? Inner walls are besieged quite the same way. With every cloudy gush of ambrosia, there's a slight thrust given to have slackened walls assisted with their tightening by mind numbing pleasure. Nerves work into overdrive, and if she were still conscious enough to make coherent speech, she'd probably be able to map out every inch of the stone length tenderly massaging her depths. Unlike above, all that pleasure seems to flow right into her womb, the little nudges against the back sending out tremor like pulses that find their way to the very last egg stuffed in her ovaries before rebounding right back out to her lurid seal. After what seems like an eternity of that slow, thorough invasion, a grunt has the assistants speeding up. Instead of just barely wriggling the nodes plunged in her tits, they're almost flailing them about, drawing wide circles within her tits to the point those nubs are felt by the women holding her chest steady. On occasion they drag the first few rungs out, only to slam them right back in to begin anew, doing their best to stretch already fuck ready nipples to their limits. Her cunt is made a veritable anvil with how heavy they hammer into her, the harsh squelching ringing out in the air as she's forcibly tenderized. She can feel fingers just barely slipping into her entrance as they try to steady the rod, often times bulging out her stomach with their force, only to drag a few inches out just to slam it right back inside again. On the rare occasion that shaft manages to push past cervix, her womb is given an explosive burst of pleasure from that mystery brew, so much so that it's obvious that mortal sanctums aren't meant to process the sheer delight stored in the potion. The huffs and grunts of shamans and assistants doing their best rings out for a while, sweat even falling from them to her while budding feminine need pales in comparison to Bella's own.

 Belladonna Arnell was by now, utterly lost mentally. Were she able to she would be writhing in agonizing pleasure, moaning in delight, crying and laughing and losing herself in the high of this venom. Her body seemed to grow red, tanned skin growing flush with blood as nerves were set alight and cells were stimulated. A radiant heat seemed to come off Belladonna's plush form, as if she were the victim of a harsh sunburn, or suffering from fever the likes of which no person beyond the jungle had known. Within her feverish mind-scape the wizard was being fucked by Og, her red-skinned husband and stud rutting her raw, pumping her full of that venomous joy as he held down her hands and legs. The form would shift, the image constantly changing, from a scowling form to a smiling one, to impassive or to pleasure-drunk himself. They were in a bed, or in a tree, or in the town center, or atop a mountain. Her brain flickered with all manner of lucid, feverish dream, a transcendent pleasure coming from her coma that was only aided by the crazy halucinations. At time's she wasn't fucking, but instead felt as though she were in the throngs of birth. Wonderful red-skinned, pink haired oni passing through her stretched out canal, or from her over inflated, incubating tits, nipples expanding as heads of pink hair pushed past. She was a font of life, an unending flow of wonderful spawn that came from her form. She was a fertility idol, a bastion of life, she sat upon cushions held by the strongest of Oni, presided over by her well-endowed, chieftain Og. The hearts upon her gravid stomach were countless, two, three, four and so on circles shifting and rotating about her domed gut, a radiance coming off her tanned form. Of course, all of this was within her head, a fever dream born out of her own desires, ego and heady love for Ogreis and his sturdy people. On the outside she was hitching, moaning, and in the grips of intense orgasm. Her walls clenched tight even through the muscle relaxant, hugging that stone pore for all it was worth, threatening to swallow it out of the grip of the oni commanding it. The foggy, miso soup like slime that came from her cunt now rocketed off, squelching around the seal of her cunt and splattering those Oni gals too close or handling her, her Egg-saturated slime pooling into the cushions beneath, kicking up a smell of feminine need and fishy, spicy stink that even managed to stave off the bulk of the incense in the room. Her tits were not spared the orgasm, as the nerve-rending toxin was swiftly causing them to work into a frenzy of fertility overproduction as well. It was thankful those tits were pinched shut, because it would have been a veritable river of thick, sweet milk otherwise. Instead her tits simply began to Balloon, growing in size until they were drooping around the hands of those who held them, sloshing against her form and weighing down like thick, fatty water balloons of health. Surely they had drawn attention to themselves by now, the wizard's howling would have easily been heard through the furs and canvas of the hut, many an Oni no doubt worrying as to what curious procedure was going on in there. One would hope the canvas was sealed to the ground, lest pesky and curious kids hike it up to peer upon the wizards writhing form, or catch a gust of her egg-sodden slime.

 There's not a moment's rest for at least a few minutes, the wizard's musk finally rising to match the heavy incense swirling about the room, something that brings a set of curious coos and murmurs from the crowd surely around her before they're silenced by the words of Gana ordering for what must be more of whatever had the room steeped in that herbal fog. By the time that frenzied tenderizing is over, the aides are left huffing, twitching as they desperately try to contain their own lusts yet still holding steady till the two head aides give them consent to draw away. They make sure to take their time, and while it's obvious that the wizard might be a bit more stretched out than before, they ensure that every inch is savored, every nub remembered, every little drop of venom given a proper home before those apparatuses are removed for good. A set of hands finds her teats once more, this time going for those gaping udders and giving testing, hooking tugs. Whatever sensitivity that treatment gave obviously hasn't waned, and even the occasional thrust or spreading of fingers causes a burst of sensations to take still pleasure lit breasts. Bellow, it's almost a scientific ordeal. Of course she still probed that gaping birth tunnel with her fingers, but soon afterwards there's more things being pushed inside. A set of prongs surely meant to hold her open find themselves almost woefully useless when some odd container is stuffed inside, collecting her flow of egg infused ambrosia for a moment before having it pulled away. A curious hum, a few soft spoken grunts in native tongue and an almost appreciative patting against Bella's stomach later and the second crowd is gone, hands now slowly leaving Bella before a new set of orders are given. There's another slight shifting, though it seems that there's only one set of hands to find her this time. They're strong, broad, and honestly more manly and coarse than what might normally find her. Planted on hips and gripping firmly into her frame, they drag her against that set of cushions till bronzed, plush thighs are meeting chiseled, massive, almost delicately skinned thighs. There's something barely warmed and metallic sprouting from where groin should be, and the feeling of leather along whatever brutish shaman's frame she's graced only points towards her having a harness bound dildo waiting for the wizard.

 Belladonna Arnell gave a slight chuckle at the sounds beyond the tent, the still pleasure-drunk wizard imagining a crowd watching her, a tide of oni looking upon her like some sort of gravid fertility idol, an obscene ideal to be strived for. It had her mind further buzzing with delight. Belladonna could only lie there, her extremities held down and a touch numb, her body tingling with overheated warmth and wonderful pleasure as those last hands were pulled away. Belladonna most certainly felt wider than before, a rush of air and breath reaching a fair ways into her cunt as it was made open and bare for all to look at. A part of her worried that she would be utterly blown out, but the tightness of her form would return over time, even if it did not fully recover, her puss would still be the envy of all others, the most plush, sensitive hole in all the tribe. The wizard moaned and shuddered as she could seemingly feel all along those pink folds, that odd venom having lit her nerves alight with sensitivity and texture, bumps running along the folds of her cunt. Pleasurable nerve ends, swollen with receptiveness and just soft enough to make a wonderful texture upon whatever entered. When those fingers are pressed into her body, Belladonna hitches with delight, another splrch of dense female slime plastering those fingers as they feel up her ribbed, plush insides. The hands hooking her tits also seem to send lightening across her chest, the venom laced glands seeming to feel just where those fingers hooked into her form, lifting up the sagging, fat tits and judging them like racks of steak. There's an audible, physical sloshing as those tits are hefted, the milk ducts having produces a mass of cream inside those tits, the things shaking like bags, or water balloons filled with the white nutrition. were they pried open with fingers, one could see the near lake of milk inside them, pink, bumpy surface peeking past the rim of drink, or some collections of bumps that sat above the tide leaking rivulets into the whole bunch, the production having slowed down, but the sheer bulk of milk held within causing those tits to sag and squash out against her form and whatever hands held her. But then she feels those coarse, rough hands grab at her hips, a gasp and moan escaping the wizard as she felt those broad fingers sink into the flesh, the fatty hips pooling between splayed fingers. Its a wonderful feeling, and with her eyes still closed, and her mind still a touch buzzed by the venom, Belladonna feels as though her wonderful, fertile stud had gripped her. Admittedly the metal and leather dissuade her a touch, but after a while of being gripped by aggressive hands and taut muscle, she had to be sure. With trepidation she opened her eyes, the fog of the room causing them to tear up a touch before Bella could blink them out of her vision and see just who it was gripping her, just to be sure who it was.

 She's greeted to the sight of some looming, overly muscular shaman surely brought in from somewhere else, as even now her head manages to reach the chest of some of the 'shorter' women while kneeling. Another more than noticeable feature is her hair, which flows down all the way past her back, surely resting on the curve of muscular gluts with it's wild and almost feral appearance. Where Gana may be seen as the current figure of fertility, this woman can be seen as an object of that savage carnality the oni are known for. Compared to the others, her breasts are almost modest, just barely able to dwarf her own head altogether with pert, probably barely used nipples. Where fat might be on others, muscle finds her. Her arms look like mighty boas, her torso a massive trunk of power that doesn't even bear the slightest bit of excess. Even her stomach is flat, devoid of the touch of pregnancy weight and instead tickled with the trenches of power and muscular exertion. Hips hold just the barest bit of fat on them, but for the most part they're mighty, muscled flanks that probably could have her crushing pelvises if a man were in her grasp. Eyes are a ravenous, scarlet color that matches her hair, and she only sports a single horn that protrudes out from her forehead, at least an inch longer than the others surrounding Bella, yet curved and smoothed out as if polished. Her gaze makes contact with the wizard's when eyes open, a curt smile appearing on the plush lips she sports before a tongue swipes along them. Something is grunted out in her native tongue, hands shifting so she can lean over the raven haired broodmother and almost inspect her, inadvertently showing off her 'toy' clad groin as well. Animal hide has been fashioned into something meant to secure what seems to be a psuedo cock jutting out from the shebeast's groin. It's massive, almost as thick as one of Bella's overly plush thighs and adorned with similar nubs as the tool before. "That is Thurja~" The sound of Gana draws closer, and soon the dear wizard's face is cupped by those tender hands from behind, all while that insatiable beast above murmurs out in her native tongue. "She sister to me... Help tribe much after separated from own tribe." Thurja herself only regretfully peels her gaze away from Bella to look up at her 'sister' hips already starting to push and grind against the soaking crotch beneath her, whatever fluid being trapped in 'her' cock sloshing almost audibly. "Her tribe all warriors. Even with breeders, none more fierce and strong. They know hunting, and often move much through mountain. She only one know of rare herb, demands she help with process in exchange." Gana almost gives a nervous smile while her 'sibling' lowers her head again, face mere inches from Bella's while she huffs and pants from excitement. "She perfect for this, knows of desires of man. Make sure you ready for final blessing."

Belladonna Arnell in truth, gave a slight frown at the sight of this woman, having desperately hoped to see Og's face rather than this new oni's. The chiseled look, though impressive, was one totally foreign to belladonna, a look that seemed so terribly masculine, almost unfittingly so, upon the female form. While it was true that Belladonna's power was an academic one, and it allowed her to hold such a fleshy, fertile figure, she couldn't help but look with eyes more curious than anything else upon Thurja. She hadn't even known female Oni could be so massive, so muscular. Many of Ogreis's tribe were far more plush women, even when sporting such taller, imposing frames. It was often the men of the tribe that sported such powerful forms, meant for hunting and fighting and fucking like beasts. Call it a touch sexist, but Belladonna would have relished the chance to show this woman the joy of submission, of getting pinned under callous, brutal muscle and bred raw. The wizard could scarcely imagine how one felt pleasure in such a hardened form as a woman, the sensation of pregnancy utterly lost upon her. She would wish to show it to Thurja at least once, just so that she knew what a wonderful sensation it was. The warmth, the weight, the feeling of smaller forms moving about inside, the heady knowledge that you would be responsible for bringing more lovely, energetic life into the world. But instead of speaking her rather ignorant words and biased opinions, Belladonna bit her tongue, listening to Gana's words as she told her of the woman atop her. And even if Belladonna did have some reservations, the utterly thick, overblown toy prodding at her folds was an enticing thing, one that caused her venom-addled hips to press ever so slightly against the fat toy, a whithsh film being left upon it where it touched those fertility-sodden folds. Looking between the two women, between the huffing, eager form of Thurja and the motherly, caring Gana, Bella gave a weak nod, the effects of exhaustion beginning to take some place in her, a brief moment of realization hitting her as she wondered just how long she had been in this tent. "gahn, mmh~, very well~, continue dears~" Belladonna stated, her folds seeming to latch and such on the head, the slimy labia sticking and clinging to the shaft like some sort of depraved lamprey.

 The moment Gana nods her head is the moment Thurja moves into action. Hips immediately surge forward with enough force to cause just the faintest thud when the head collides into the back of that womb, scarlet reds gleaming as she shifts her hands back to hips just to heft Bella's lower half up just enough for a straighter shot. The toy is just as unforgiving as it looked, forcing that womb into the shape of it's crown while it leaks some odd stimulant through those nubs. Unlike that overly pleasurable drug that coursed through her before, this one simply sends electric signals through once slackened muscles to contract and tighten all over again. A draw back has the femjizz slickened slab of metal scrubbing and pushing all that almost oily film into her inner walls from cervix to entrance, only for another crude slam to come down right afterwards. It's obvious that the woman has at least something in her own cunt while she's plowing the Wizard, taking more than a minute or two simply to grind and roll her hips about while huffing gently, the shaft of her toy so thoroughly ironing out and dragging trails in those inner walls that squelches ring out almost as loud as those screams she gave out before. Thurja actually whispers something out, probably her verses for 'sweet nothings' before she begins to thrust properly. She's just as savage as some rut claimed male, swinging and bucking her hips in wide, thorough strokes, though instead of throbbing there's simply unforgiving hardness steadily heated up by friction and that very same heated oven of a cunt she churns. Bella can see every rippling expanse of muscle on the woman tensing and clenching with every movement, grace and charm dripping like the sweat off of her body, breasts just barely bouncing as she continues to work herself against her plush counterpart.

 Belladonna Arnell was not so much howling as she was pounded, but rather moaned and yelped as Thurja begins her obscene work. Her walls cling to the metal member with slimy, sticky wetness, the pale film all along her cunt of eggs and slime creating an utterly heated, sweltering, sticky sort of canal. But as the thing blasted past her cervis, the thing barreling deep into her womb, a veritable floodgate was let loose. A tide of the egg-addled slime seeped out around the seal of that toy pooling into the cushions and fabric between her legs, so utterly dense that it could not soak into the fabric and furs, or at the least would remain sitting atop like oil for some time. A rush of the foggy, heady aroma spilled out along with it, plastering Bella, thurja and Gana in the fishy aroma of fertility this wizard seemed to exude. Belladonna could feel her walls tightening once more, this perhaps last portion of the transformation working to tighten her up once more. She had been expanded, molded, made pliable, and now she was being set into shape. Her womb had been ore, melted down, and now it was being smithed into the prefect tool of pleasure, a textured, overly sensitive canal of sticky, reeking pleasure. Belladonna could not help but smile, not from the odd fucking, but from the knowledge that she was going to please Og like she never had before. She was going to be an utter whore, a broodmother of the best quality, a breeder who would be sure to pump out healthy litter after litter of wonderful oni children. That alone was enough to get belladonna moaning throughout the toy's work, her womb being pulled inward by its odd concoction, tightening her before weak and unresponsive muscles. Belladonna was flatered that Thurja took so much joy in pseudo claiming her, and while Belladonna could not totally return the sentiment, her muscles remembering Og's shape rather than this simple, untrue toy, she certainly blushed from the sentiment. Yet still she craved Og, her mate, her stud, all the various textures and bumps of his own member. Bella wondered just what it was he had gone through, and what sort of obscene procedure had been induced upon him. All belladonna could hope was that he would still be the same, in some ways, after words, still the callous, but loving, machine of rut and masculinity she had known him to be.

 There's no semblance of slowness or rest as Thurja continues that steady process, eventually lowering her head just to part lips and let tongue dip inside the massive mounds of milk that make up Bella's breast. It's not even suckling, simply keeping those massive nipples in place long enough for her  tongue to roll and flutter about within the duct filled mass, lapping up creamy delight with budding hunger while she continues to pound that venom into the woman. A hand even relinquishes control of those hips just to clamp down into the massive swell of softness, almost squirting milk into her mouth while she continues to savagely pound into her faux lover. The smell only seems to ebb her own, the faint tinge of untamed, almost mucky feminine odor rolling off of Thurja completely dwarfed by that lurid fog, even Gana's excitement slowly starting to seep out, only to get swallowed by the sex frenzy that Bella whips up all on her own. There's a beautiful contrast in softness and hardness, strength caving in to the pleasures of plushness, moans rolling from occupied lips completely incognizant of any and all that goes on around them. That potion only seems to get stronger the longer it's applied, and if she'd have been clinging from before, by the time there's a faltering in the massive Oni woman's frame her tunnel would be perfectly molded to every inch of that lurid 'syringe'. There's a point where venom stops flowing, but Thurja doesn't stop as she's simply too reluctant to let the wizard go. Her fervor seems to transfer to the rest of the crowd as well, some discretely trying to relieve their tension while others are more open, moaning and huffing out loud as they hungrily thrust fingers into spasming, cock hungry holes. The chorus of flesh against flesh is added to by their strangled gasps of pleasure, and soon enough Gana is having to speak up just to keep the women both from losing themselves to the frenzy and from goading Thurja on.

 Belladonna Arnell while missing the wonderful sensation of flesh upon flesh, can certainly appreciate the aggression and unending pace of a savage, long fuck. Belladonna's form heaved with every slam, fatty flesh shaking and flying about, her fat tits following about a half second behind her as their weighty and balloon-like nature cause them to roil and flop the most upon her form. The nutrition-rich drink is, thankfully, not neglected by Thurja, and belladonna groaned with utter overly-sensitive delight as those bags of milk were so easily used, lapped at like a saucer of cream, or simply squirted into the mouth like a sports bottle. Belladonna's form is utterly steeped in fleshy pleasure by now, soft, textured, and tight enough to wring out as much cum into her overly-fertile womb as possible. And oh did she want cum right now, the craving for it having been present since the moment this all began, but now utterly ravishing her like a thirst for water to a man in a desert. The sloppy, thick, swimmer-addled stuff, the odd lifebrew both delicious to her sex-crazed pallet and wonderfully satisfying to her core. That density, that heat, it all had her reeling and writhing once more, as she had in the beginning, for her dear lover. She scarcely noticed the orgy seeming to form around her, a bundle of women all sent into rut by her very stench, the broodmother of a wizard utterly pleased at the notion that many stomachs would go to sleep packed with the squiddy smelling, thick stuff tonight, her own most especially. Even as the venom died off, her walls once more tight and squeezing, Belladonna still craved him, her mind flocking to thoughts of that fleshy member vomiting gout after gout of that baby making paste into her very core. "Aaaahn~, O-oooogh, oooooogh~" She mewled out, attempting, in some silly way, to call for her jungle mate.

Ogreis: Thuraja doesn't stop till she's positive that lovecanal is tugging back just as much as she tugs away, and even then she keeps herself rutting in some mindless pace while she shifts to the other breast, hungrily lapping down that bounty as well. It's not until she's had her fill of the delicious, bountiful cream that she actually begins to let up on the howling wizard, huffing for breath as well and steadily pulling that phallic tool out with some boorish grunt and groan. Something is spoken out almost innocently in her native tongue, unheard by the women now either indulging in that carnal pleasure or doing their best to help control it. Gana, however, manages a delighted little smile on her face, even giggling as she laces her fingers through Bella's hair. "Mh... Thurja jealous of you. Jealous of pleasure and devotion." It's almost adorable how soon that hard bodied, stern faced counterpart manages a blush on her cheeks after that, and even then she cant help but place her hand on that recently toyed with womb, then almost longingly placing one on her own stomach before giving out some other heavy grunt. She eventually moves her fingers to toy with that recently tightened fuck tunnel, digging them inside crude and savagely while Gana continues to stroke and soothe the raven haired mage's quaking form. "Almost complete, dear Bella~ Other shamans... Busy, but I personally see you become best woman in tribe. Ogreis be ready for you soon, one more task to be done~"

 Belladonna Arnell: /me hitched and crooned as that massive length was fully removed from her cunt, the newly tightened canal almost getting dragged out a touch along with it before squelching back into place, thick strands of cloudy female slime connecting the thing to her folds before dropping to the floor. The wizard felt her muscles tire a touch as she was finally given a moment of reprieve, her body finally catching up with her pleasure addled brain as the slight ache of her cunt was sent through her form. A dull, pulsing soreness that would accompany any muscle being worked out, her fleshy, newly textured up puss feeling the same rigors Thurja must feel after working out those massive thighs or imposing arms. But now belladonna was all the more improved, further turned into an oversexualized being of pleasure, a body that served only to have sensory joy as well as provide it. She could feel the pulsing nodules and her slimy folds pressing together within her, the things rubbing together pleasuring each other as her insides tightened around a cock that wasn't quite there yet. The wizard still held her faculties, and no magical capacity had been eroded, but now she was a sort of fleshy pillow of a woman as well as a wizard, with massively distended breasts, acting more as tankards than udders, and a set of sexual organs now even further put towards the act of producing as many healthy, squirming children as possible. As the wizard looked up to Gana a blush formed over her own face, the heady thought of being the tribes pseudo fertility idol setting her mind ablaze with both pride and lust. "Well th-then dear~, please~, the last task, please~" Bella crooned out, pursing her lips and taking deep heavy breaths as she mewled out to her flesh smith, waiting for the last blow to properly shape her into place.

 Gana gives a beatific smile, easily hefting the near worn down woman into her mighty lap and snapping a finger, the last few sentient shamans bringing some pair of vials filled with an odd, green fluid, some almost slug like creatures occasionally twitching and swirling about within. They're barely as big as the head's thumb, though of course that means they could easily dwarf one of those oversized nipples that Bella sports even now that they've been stretched so thoroughly. She sets them down beside her while cradling the exhausted wizard, reaching to get that satchel of energizing meal and already pinching off a chunk, letting it press and drip heavy against Bella's lips. "This will be final gift... Something even I not receive~" She forces that wad of assorted, pulped fruits and herbs down into the woman's mouth, only to quickly plug up lips with a dusky nipple that, upon feeling the warmth of another body, near immediately begins to produce milk to wash it all down. It's creamy and almost sickeningly sweet, so much so that it tastes more like confection than life giving brew. "You bear them in breast.... Make you fertile in even chest! Maybe one day, you find way to make all holes fertile... But now, you must make sure you feed them~" Just to emphasize, a currently spare hand squeezes tender on the leaking tankard, ensuring that the woman is swallowing overflowing mouthfuls at a time as that burning presence of the drug begins to reinvigorate nerves.

Belladonna Arnell gave a coo of surprise as she was hefted up by the powerful oni woman, the wizard's body aching juuust a touch as she was dragged into that plush, but terribly sturdy lap. The wizard eyed those odd creatures curiously as Gana was handed them, Belladonna raising her eyebrows in surprise that there were still some shaman women left not reveling in flesh and delight. The wizard wondered if anything had begun outside the tent, that perhaps the obscenity of what was going on in here had germinated and spread into a heady festival of lust all around them. She would have asked had the obscene red drug had not been once more pushed upon her, her body swiftly beginning to tingle with heat again as the stimulant buzzed her brain and heated her blood with inhuman energy. The moan would have been heard by many more had that fat tit not suddenly been forced upon her lips, the wizard only tingling chest flesh as she moaned into the fat udder. As she heard just what it was Gana had in store for her, just what those slime-coated invertebrates did, the wizard could scarcely hold back her joy. Her cheeks concave as she gulped like mad upon the saccharine, fruity milk, taking throat-bulging swallows as she prepared herself for the wonderful obscenity that was to come. Belladonna had simply assumed her tits would become tankards, reservoirs of milk that could be opened and drained like a jug for the joy of whoever wanted. That they would be wombs, wonderful fonts of life just as her nethers were, it set her mind ablaze with delight. Her eyes pinched shut as her body writhed with new drug-infused energy, her hips humping up against Gana as she fed, her fat tankard breasts quaking as they hung off just partially at her sides, the overexpanded things sloshing audibly with her own thick, nutritious cream.

 The oni just barely twitches when she feels that heavy suction suddenly stretching her teat and drawing out milk, eventually letting that woman drink as she pleases while popping off the corks for those vials. One hand makes sure Bella never finds herself without teat to suckle, supporting the back of her head and practically mashing her into the unearthly softness of a seemingly never-ending supply of cream. The other finds one vial, holding it by the neck and steadily letting the ooze inside spill out over a single breast, right near a gaping nipple. The slug creature seems to appreciate the freedom, slowly slinking it's way about with no eyes or distinct features to speak of, searching blindly for whatever instincts demand of it. It's not long till the very same hand that freed it is purposefully plunging that leaking nub, spreading it wide and curving it upwards so that a few drops spill over towards the invertebrate. Creamy liquid is almost immediately absorbed into the being's body, a moment of stillness followed by a rapid burst of speed that has it lunging towards the open spigot, sliding between fingers and dipping into the ducts within. She can feel the presence acutely, squirming and flailing about wildly in the overabundance of calcium enriched fluid, growing inch by inch as more and more is forcefully ingested, not stopping till it feels like a heavy lump of wriggling jello in her teat, visibly bloating the already torso swallowing mound to dwarf it's sister. Gana does the same for the other soon enough, and soon Bella has the tails of those parasitic beasts wriggling out of the ends of her nipples some acutely electric pleasure starting to slam heavy into her spine as time goes on. Her stomach burns as well, almost immediately digesting and using the ultra nutritious milk she drinks just to produce more for those massive parasites, leaving her with a greater hunger with every suckle.

 Belladonna Arnell huffed out her nose into that fat oni tit as she felt the slime ooze across her form, that fat slug weighing heavy upon her chest as it inched about, the curious creature simply resting on the fatty chest without direction or influence. As soon as it gets a taste of that rich milk, however, and begins writhing its way down that now far more yielding tit, Bella is once more moaning in delight. A loud, obscene noise that muffled even the sloppy entry of that beast into her chest. No doubt it would be heard outside, the wizard screaming into that tit as milk seemed to drip past the sides of her lips before she began to drink once more. It was an utterly divine sensation, that feeling of the beast draining the overinflated space, going so far as to burrow what one could assume to be its front into one of those nubbed, tight ducts, drinking from the source as it bloated and grew. At the same time, Bella's hunger did indeed increase, her mouth voraciously sucking down Gana's milk, her body's metabolism working into an overtime that only that heady oni drug could provide the energy for. Those now fat tits, as each was filled with an obscene parasitic womb, now easily encompassed her front, the fat flesh full, but sagging heavily upon her front and to the sides, the things no doubt hanging down nearly to her knees were she to properly stand, the things utterly fat with those feeding creatures and milk alike. Belladonna hoped that the things would be gracious when the process was over, and leave enough milk that those fat tits might be drained regularly, or be suckled by dear children she would be soon so aggressively pumping out. It was like a dream, a wonderfully heady and obscene dream born by a women who enjoyed fertility to an inhuman, almost worrying degree. That electrical pleasure, that wonderful brain buzzing high that came with these odd parasites rearranging her flesh, it thrilled her to the core, And belladonna delighted in the fact that her meals would no doubt be far larger to accommodate this new productivity, and hoped greatly that she would not harm Gana as she drank so greedily from the fatty red flesh.

 Those parasites only continue to drink as she produces, growing distinct details in the cocoon of those heavy tankards. Nubby teeth that latch on to the very back, massaging and forcing those ducts they find into even greater production just to continue feeding them into proper maturity. Pores slowly opening for  the same purpose, causing the once white flow of milk to turn into a slimy green for a while as they completely kick her cream factories into a heavy overdrive. Even the little, wriggling tails still unable to properly fit within that chest begin to warp, swelling like mighty plugs just to stem the tide of cream, only for slimy flesh to start fusing with her own. Pressure builds as the perfect seal continues, the sudden bursts of pleasure brought from new nerve endings connecting and liking with her system only increasing as her breasts swell and bloat from unused delight. It's not till milk is completely kept from leaking from teats that the plugs 'open' bursting into wide, gaping tunnels that positively gush out dark green slime bustling with miniature parasites. Gana, moaning as she may be from the otherworldly hunger now draining her teat so much so that it causes thighs to tense and twitch beneath Bella while her swampy womanhood almost audibly squelches in some whorish cry to be filled, manages to move those two vials to capture a few, simply setting them aside so her lovely wizard friend can finish her trials. Soon, the presence of those slugs are almost completely gone, replaced by a somewhat foreign sensation of sensitivity and abundance. Milk starts to flow regularly now, or at least the regular color. It's as thick as the slime once pushed out by those parasites, and even the thinnest flow seams like a spigot unleashed. What's more, even the slightest of pressure brings not only mind numbing pleasure radiating through her bust, but also phantom sensations in her actual love canal to mirror it, as if the two new baby factories were connected to the original. That hunger starts to wane with new gulps now, but Gana is panting and huffing as she reaches the limit of her bounty in that breast, though she simply pushes the other in the wizard's face as well, beckoning for her to drink from both inbetween mewls of delight.

 Belladonna Arnell flailed arms and legs as she was mutated so wonderfully by these odd creatures. They way they latched to her form, manipulated her inner flesh to make them a more hospitable home, it all radiated pleasure across belladonna's form. once more her mind was full of fantastic vistas of pleasure, her over stimulated, delirious mind imagining vistas of pleasure within the fat red tit she was buried in. within her addled mind she assumed those tits to already be full of precious, kicking oni spawn, luxuriating within the mutant and inhuman womb of her tit, floating in some odd mix of that wonderful milk and odd parasitic slime, meant to nurture and protect just as her natural womb did. She could scarcely see the green ooze leaking down into the already ripe and saturated furnishings beneath her, the furs and cushions she rested upon no doubt a set of things that would need to be either replaced our outright burned if the stench was to be removed. She felt wonderful sensation as new cells and nerves alighted within her oozing tit, new flesh being sculpted and fused to the old as those fat slugs drank and mutated within her form, growing and bloating like pigs as they rearranged her insides with their own heady power. When their plug like tails burst open, the wizard once more howled into that fat red chest, the sensation of these odd creatures reaching the fullness of their life cycle, disgorging their spawn down upon her flesh and into the furs below. A faint part of the wizard wondered just what these creatures preyed upon in the wild, but for the most part she simply lounged and wallowed in the pleasure they provided, her arms tightening around Gana's massive form while her legs outstretched in pleasure, her mons once more squelching out feminine ooze of delight as her legs twitched and toes curled from the joy of it all. The things had fulfilled their purpose to eachother, created new life to further their species. In a sense belladonna was just as these parasites were, all be it more complex and far longer lasting than those swift living insectoids. She was feeding hungrily, mutating her form, and all for the sake of pumping out more life to further her lineage. The creatures had fulfilled their purpose, but in the aftermath belladonna could feel her flesh changed in totality, those fat udders now full of both wonderful leaking ducts and new, human reproductive bits, both nestled alongside one another so that Belladonna, even with her waning hunger, could feel those new oozing canals craving fullness.

 When that hunger finally subsides, Gana is left a huffing mess, a far cry from the carelessly loud orgy around the two, but still noticeably disheveled from her normal, almost gracious self that she shows to Bella. She's almost found her own womanhood by the time she has the good sense to know that the transformations are complete, and even then a palm is resting on her lower stomach, body anxious for the bliss witnessed just below her. "H-hmnhh~ W-with this, our gifts are given to you. No longer simple matron, now wife to our chieftain to be. Perfect woman to birth for our tribe..~" Her lust filled body cant help but cave into it's desires if only for a moment, bringing the wizard up for a slow, rolling kiss. Lips far larger than hers smother that mouth, tongue able to clog her throat pushed longingly into that milk tainted maw, rumbling in delight as she tastes her own bounty on the woman's oral muscle. When she pulls away, there's some heavy line of drool connecting the two for a few seconds, a smile as warm as the sun spreading on those lips as she slurps it up happily. "Even I find honor in laying with you... But that job for Og~ We prepare you for him soon.. and you two will create new breed of oni infront of tribe~"