The Mother let out a little gasp, her eyes widening slightly. "Oh my, I was too busy thinking. I apologize, my dear." She clutched a hand to her mouth, pretending to look surprised and guilty.
The look was too perfectly put on, but Lyssandra had no energy to call her out. Her body was still writhing with the force of the ovipositor inside her, and she was too overwhelmed to care about the drama.
The Mother, ever the tease, started swirling the ovipositor in her. It was impossibly tight, so tight it felt like her womb itself was closing around the alien member. The movements were slow and steady, and despite the pain, Lyssandra was lost in it, her senses drowned in pleasure.
She barely heard The Mother speaking. "Interesting. Your inside didn't even have a scratch. How is this possible?"
She had no idea. She just wanted to feel, to ride the wave, to let this all sink in and not be so smart.
But the Mother's hand was around the big bulge of her pregnant like stomach now, holding it in place. And then she began to stroke it with slow then heavy movements, pressing and pulling.
It felt so good. The ovipositor was pulling at her, coaxing, leading. And the more it moved, the more she felt something else growing in her, a bubbling, swelling force, something wild and unpredictable.
The Mother continued, her stroking faster now, the sound of her fingers slapping against Lyssandra's bulging womb echoing in the room. Her eyes rolled back, her entire body shaking with each motion.
Lyssandra's whimpers were now soft, but they were still there, soft little sounds of pleasure and pain, of loss of control.
Then The Mother stopped.
She exhaled, eyes closed, her expression one of pure rapture.
And then… she cum.
The Mother's actions had turned from sweet teasing to a strange mix of cruelty and compassion, as if she wasn't sure which side she was on anymore.
The ovipositor, thick and pulsating, was moving with agonizing rhythm. Each motion sent tremors of pleasure through Lyssandra, yet there was something deeply unsettling about the way the it vibrated.
It wasn't just the tight, wet feel of it inside her that left her in a haze of longing. There was something more, a weight, a sensation of things stirring deep within her womb.
From behind The Mother, she could see the ovipositor had started to swell, and small, wriggling bumps were visible along its length. Muscular contractions pushed them forward, and they glowed in the dim light.
"Those were spider eggs, my eggs with your essence inside. Our children!!!." The Mother cooed.
They were covered in a sticky, transparent fluid, their surfaces shiny like they were trying to attract attention.
She could see the process clearly, the tiny, unformed things slowly making their way from the entrance of her body, down the long ovipositor, and then out — back inside, to her womb.
Squelch
Each new egg seemed to fit perfectly, as if it had been designed just for this moment.
pop
The sounds of their movement, the gentle slap of them against her walls, filled the air, blending with the wet, hot sensations of the ovipositor. It was more than she could bear.
plopped
Lyssandra groaned, her body writhing with the force of another orgasm. Sperm spewed from her cock, coating the Mother's ahegao face and opening mouth in thick layers, drenching it.
She could feel the warmth, the stickiness, the sheer intensity of every drop.
Meanwhile, her belly swelled more with each new egg. It grew, stretched, and now had a firm, rounded shape.
The surface was lumpy and tight, swollen as if it were about to burst.
Her womb once a hollow of quiet potential—thrummed with alien fullness now, each shift of weight inside rewriting her from within, was becoming something else — something filled, something changed.
Tears streamed down her face. Some were from the pain of so much penetration, others from the overwhelming ecstasy.
And her cock was still cumming, a relentless tide of sperm that made her feel as if she were no longer in control of her own body.
The Mother's fingers curled around Lyssandra's pregnant belly, running over the now-distended skin. The movement was soft, almost reverent, though the glint in her red eyes told a different story.
"Oh! My children," she whispered, as if to the unseen life within. "Soon, you will hatch, and we will be a happy family… forever."
Her expression was filled with giddy joy, but the smile she wore soon turned cruel, a slow twist of the lips as if she had been holding it back.
"And then," she continued, her voice a teasing purr, "we will do it again and again, until all you can be is a breeding vessel for me."
She laughed, the sound echoing off the walls, deep and rough with mirth. "What a wonderful future awaits."
Lyssandra didn't reply, not just because she was still breathing heavily.
It was just… the action had started already.
"You're d...done laughing?" Lyssandra's voice cut through the air, calm but laced with a sharp edge. The soft, almost breathless sound of a hiccup made it almost cute — if she didn't have the complete power now.
And the first step was her standing up, not even blinking as the weight of all the eggs inside her gave a little wobble. A slow rise, her muscles coiling like coiled wire.
The Mother's eyes snapped to hers.
"What?… no. It isn't possible!."
Lyssandra's mouth tilted at the edge. "Lucky I had the foresight to prepare those stamina potions," she thought, reaching down and pulling the web from around her legs.
Her fingers moved smoothly, one after another, a sequence that meant she was never really unconscious at all.
The Mother's laughter was fading as her eyes grew wide.
She had planned everything.
But now, Lyssandra's calm stance gave it all away, she had prepared for the moment when the power would shift again.
"Next phase," Lyssandra murmured to herself, barely audible but with each word, she counted down.
"Three."
"Two."
The single syllable of 'one' had barely left Lyssandra's lips when a thunderous boom echoed through the air, followed by the force of a cloud of dust that stormed into the room. The noise was deafening, the force nearly sent Lyssandra reeling.
Before she could regain her footing, an unmistakable voice rang through the chamber.
"Where is she?!!" the giant figure yelled, squirming forward through the thick dust cloud. The force of her arrival sent the air quivering. A moment later, the form became clear, it was Luna.
She moved like a beetle squished beneath a massive sheet of leather, barely able to fit in the chamber as she squirmed forward.
There was no room. The room was tiny for the Mother's bulk, but Luna's form, even though it had swelled with size, had somehow fit. It was a miracle of anatomy, or a spell, but no one could stop to question that now.
For now, only one thing mattered in Luna's eyes. Lyssandra, standing tall despite her big and bumpy belly.
"Oh...," The Mothersaid, her voice like a purr, "...and who do we have here? A water slime?"
She tilted her head as if curious, and for a second, it almost seemed genuine. The Mother's red eyes lit up.
Then, as Luna had barely finished her sentence, the Mother moved, mouth wide open and slathering with goo, launching her webs toward the giant creature.
She expected the web to wrap Luna in place, to catch her before she could escape.
But the web had no effect.
Suddenly
The Mother shrieked as she twisted, her massive body convulsing—then, with a violent heave, she forced Lyssandra free from her back.
Lyssandra hit the ground hard, gasping, but still managed to shout, "Her weak spot! The junction where the human half meets the spider!"
Luna heard and understood.
Without a word, her form collapsed inward, shrinking and compressing until she was once more a small, trembling slime.
Then
A razor-thin jet of high-pressure water erupted from her, slicing through the air straight toward the exposed junction.
It would have ended it.
But The Mother was faster.
A chitinous black leg snapped into place—clang—deflecting the strike.
In the same breath, her other limbs lashed out, long and bladed, cutting through the air with lethal precision.
Lyssandra rolled and barely avoiding being skewered. Luna recoiled, her core pulsing as the blades sliced dangerously close.
One hit.
That was all it would take.
Almost there… Lyssandra clenched her jaw.
With a sharp motion, she hurled a fireball into the ground.
The explosion burst outward, dust, ash, and smoke swallowing the battlefield whole.
"You cannot hide from me, you vermin," The Mother hissed, her many eyes scanning, searching
Waiting.
Then
She froze.
Because what stood before her… wasn't a slime.
Wasn't a lone, vulnerable girl.
Dozens of figures emerged from the dust.
Silent. Armored. Unmoving.
"Shield team!" Lyssandra's voice rang out, sharp as steel. "Form up!"
A wall of shields rose in unison—slick with blue blood, locked edge to edge, an unbreakable barrier.
"Advance."
The formation moved as one, slow and relentless, closing the distance.
The Mother's eyes narrowed.
"…What have you done?"
Behind the shield wall
Something shifted.
Something she hadn't seen before.