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 Her nipples are tiny and pebbled as they first lay her on the alter slab. Her arms are secured cradling her head. Her legs are tightly bound calf to thigh and then secured to her sides- she feels like a trussed up chicken in the market, pitiful cunt on display. She is shameful and made to serve her village.

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One man brings his wife, forces her between Ama's legs to pleasure her, and then begins fucking her in the ass, hand in her hair to keep her mouth buried in Ama's cunt even while she keens in pain at the rough assault. Another man crawls beneath the woman and begins to fuck her cunt. Ama's forced to cum to the women's sobbing. 

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Ama awakes to warmth and comfort. She feels clean, the scent of peppermint and lavender wafting in the air. When her eyes are finally able to focus she realizes she is on a bed. Her wrists and ankles are loosely tied to keep her spread eagl, but there is enough room for her to move and keep herself comfortable. She can hear the sound of rushing water- has she been moved to the temple?

It is the only place she could imagine this beautiful- the walls covered in gorgeous gold filigree and turquoise tiles. The room os full of steam- small streams run around the outside edge of the room. This ismost definitely the temples, a room she’s never been allowed entry to in her previous trips to worship.

Her ass still aches, and there are other pains in her body, but she has clearly been sleeping for a long time as they are all dull and mild. It feels odd, the sudden comfort after what felt like an eternity of pain. Even her full breasts only house a dull discomfort as they continued to stretch to accommodate the unwelcome parasites within them.

She fades in and out of sleep for the next few hours, luxuriating in the warm humidity and lack of assault on her body.

She awakes to the sound of priests entering her room. Dread fills her stomach as they undo the leather tying her ankles to the bottom bed posts, instead stretching her legs back towards her head, tying them to her wrists. The new position is infinitely more uncomfortable, but she still has little strength to protest.

“Please, don’t.” She whimpers, but they pay her no heed. Since this process began has her words have gone unacknowledged.

The high mother enters the room, appraising her position with a clinical air.

“The mix.” She says simply, and a priest hurries to offer a jar. Ama can't get a good view of the jar, but the mother’s hand emerges coated in a thick beige goo.

Ama whimpers as the high mother covers her nipples and areolas with the mixture, liberally spreading the thick slime over them. It is thick and jelly like, and doesn't melt away from where it is spread. She then moves between Ama’s legs. She rubs it into her swollen clit, ignoring Ama's attempts to jerk away from the overwhelming stimulation.

“P-please! Oh! It’s too much!” Ama gasps, body quaking. It is so good, electricity shot through her clitoris as it is caressed. The bare bud was still not used to such stimulation.

The high mother pays her no heed, and when she is satisfied Ama’s clitoris iss fully coated she slips a wet finger into Ama's vagina. Ama gasps at the sensation, her first experience with anything inside her womanhood. The high mother takes her time, adding more and more of the thick, viscous liquid. Ama's body responds as expected, relaxing and allowing the high mother to fit three full fingers in.

The sensation is pleasurable in a way she has never felt before and Ama moans. The areas of her body that the mixture touches begin to tingle and burn in arousal. She squirms uncomfortably, searching for something... Penetration, stimulation.

Thankfully more priests enter as the high mother worked her fingers inside of her. They hold pleasure slugs in their hands, easily fixing their sucking mouths to her nipples and the bud of her clit.

Ama can't keep from a yelp that turns into a moan at the overwhelming feeling of their contact, an orgasm quickly shaking through her. It isn’t nearly as painful as what she had experienced at the begging, but every orgasm leaves her more painfully sensitive and exhausted.

For an hour the high mother stays between her legs, working her fingers in and out at a maddeningly slow pace, massaging parts of her Ama had never imagined could feel so good. Finally she stops, and a moment later her fingers are replaced with the cool metal that had been used to spread her ass open. It is welcome stimulation and she tris to grind into the phalic object, moaning as the high mother began to widen it, stretching her almost to pain and leaving her clenching deliciously.

Ama is left like that for the rest of the day, sobbing out orgasm after orgasm. Every hour or so a priest comes and stretches the speculum further, until a dull aching pain settles in her womanhood. The burning stretch is just one added sensation to her overstimulated body as delirious pleasure overcomes her.

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The next morning the slugs are pulled from her body. Ama vaguely notices that her nipples have grown in width and length, and she can only assume the same can be said for her clitoris, judging by how it brushes her thighs as the priests release her from her position.

They lift her from the bed, beginning to tie her barely conscious body to a wooden structure. It holds her in a seated position, arms and legs tightly bound to the framework. Her thighs are spread wide, leaving her now overstretched  cunt smacking wetly around air. They pick up the structure, and her with it, bringing her to a separate chamber. The room holds a large tub in the center of the floor, the silkworm she’d housed swimming lazy circles in the pool. It is well over four feet long now, looking thick and ready to burst.

Ama is lowered into the water, submerged to mid waist. Warm water surges into her womanhood. She watches in terror as the worm hurriedly squirms towards her, blindly feeling along her legs. It doesn't take long for it to find her spread ass and cunt. It presses to her asshole tickling, but seems displeased with it, perhaps remembering its time hibernating. It continues its search and Ama shrieks at the odd sensation of it’s mouth nibbling at her womanly folds.

At first she can't tell what is happening as the worm seems to squirm between her legs, but a moment later something firmer and slightly thinner began pushing into her vaginal canal. Ama whimpers, shaking in her restraints to get away as the worm’s phallus wiggles inside her, searching deeper and deeper. She thinks it has gone it’s deepest when it continus to press in further, almost massaging at her insides.

Ama let out a squeak as it presses against a particularly tender spot. A moment later something thin and delicate pushes into it, leaving her screaming and arching her back as it forces its way through the tender entrance of her cervix.

She begins to babble, begging to the priests and high mother surrounding her, praying they’ll release her, pull this wretched foul beast from her body. But there is no relief and she screams and sobs as another thin tendril pushes through her cervix. The pain os excruciating, radiating from the center of her body in thick, agonizing waves. In horror she realizes the thin tendrils are pulling her open, creating space for something larger.

For an hour she shivers and screams in agony as the worm squirms against her, impatiently wrenching her most sensitive parts open. Ama feels violated in the truest sense, the final private part of her body forced open by this disgusting creature. Her breasts still achedin fullness from the parasites feeding off her milk, her anal canal can no longer close itself after the extreme stretching of the worm, and now her cervix was being pried open for its use.

It doesn't take her long to figure out its goal as the worm takes a moment to pause before beginning to convulse in an odd spastic rhythm. Terror washes over her anew as something smooth and oval presses against her sensitive cervical opening, and she sobs as a long, thin, oval egg is forced through the opening. It is perhaps as long as a pinky finger, perhaps two fingers thick, but her cervix was not meant to be violated in this way. No sooner does the first egg slip through when another begins forcing it’s way into her uterus.

“P-Please!” She sobs, vision blurred from the intense pain. “P-please, make it stop! I-I c-can’t! Oh, oh, please! It h-h-hurts!” She screams, desperately trying to shake free of the structure she is tied to. It is no use, her cries are barely acknowledged by the stewards of her pain, their eyes trained on the worm between her leg's progress.

The eggs come at an unyielding pace and although the pain never lessens after a while there was no way for her to distinguish one wave of agony from another. Her uterus began to fill, stretched taut and painful within her, making Ama gag and attempt to vomit, though there is still nothing within her to expel.

For three hours more she sits attached to that wrecked contraption as the worm forces it’s spawn inside of her virgin uterus, forcing it to stretch and grow to accommodate the spongy oblong eggs. The sharp pains kept Ama from passing out and she alternates between panting breaths to get through the pain and pleading screams to her captors. This is nothing like the glory she’d imagine for herself, she feels violated and raped, used by a creature of the earth as its whore.

When the worm finally finishes pressing its eggs into her it ejaculates a thick gel, filling any leftover space in her uterus. It also functions as some form of plug, no gel or eggs dripping from her cervix as it pulls out of her vagina.

The worm squirms away, clearly exhausted from its ordeal. A priest is waiting to capture it and hurriedly take it away. Dimly Amais aware of the sound of a hum as the priests said prayers around her, but before she can distinguish any words she passes out.

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For five days Ama is left in agony, hallucinating of her time before womanhood, warm and peaceful in the children's hut. There aren't any more thoughts of wanting to fulfill the village’s wishes, there are no thoughts of glory or womanhood.

There's only pain and arousal.

She's moved to a bed, legs suspended to posts and wrists gently tethered. She barely can move, weak from the month of preparation and constant assault on her body. Her stomach is bloated and tender, cervix spasming as it works to recover from its rape so that it can protect the parasites she's now gestating. The priests rub a lotion into her engorged stomach twice a day, keeping the skin supple and flexible.

In just a week she can see her stomach is growing. It doesn't help that every morning a thick tube is forced into her rectum and she's filled with a thick green nutrient mix, distending her further. She cries when the priests enter her room, begs them not to touch her, but they continue to ignore her, clinically spreading her loose asshole with a speculum, inserting the two inch thick tubing and feeding it a foot in.

She feels the movement of the heavy liquid as it travels through her anal tract, reaching the end of the tube and forcing itself deeper still. The first few days a priest massages her stomach from the outside, an agonizingly painful process that irritates her womb and pains her overfull stomach. But it helps the nutrients move deep within her, allows them to fill her to the brink of bursting. When they’re done they pull the tube from her and insert a heavy metal plug, thick as a fist at the base, and 6 inches long. The muscles in her sphincter are weak and loose- there’s not chance she can push it out.

The first few days she'd begged as it was fed deep inside her. She thought she'd go insane, the terrible pressure that wracked her entire body simply too overwhelming.

But she continues to survive the pain, and there's nothing to do but endure.

Her breasts leak milk constantly in the first day. The high mother comes in, chatters with the priests about it. They return with pleasure slugs, affix one to each nipple. If it’s possible, the creatures are even more enthusiastic, their sucking almost bordering on painful in the first moments they latch. They have some form of tongue like appendage in their mouths that they begin poking into her milk duct, forcing it open further to taste her sweet milk. The sensation is painful at first, but grows to be oddly arousing as they fuck her milk duct, similarly to the first insect whose egg now live inside her breasts.

Another slug is fixed to her clitoris, dragging oversensitive orgasm after orgasm from her. For hours she alternates between screaming and sobbing, body shaking in constant exhaustion and overexertion.

Sometimes the screams fro the painful goodness of her clitoris being sucked, caressed by the expert creature. Its warm and wet and it has tiny feelers that run rhythmically over the bud, causing her to squirm and scream at the painful overstimulation. Other times she can feel her cervix tensing in the rolls of her orgasms, a lightning pain as it works its way back to normal after its rape. Then a time comes when she can’t tell if it hurts or feels good.

Slowly she loses the will to protest, simply quivering in exhaustion, hardly able to react to the sensations on her body. By the end of the week she can no longer tell the sensations apart.

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Time goes on.

Her stomach continues to swell. She can barely remember her name, she lives in a constant haze. She craves fullness. Stimulation.

When the slugs are removed from her body for the short moments it takes to replace them she cries out animalistically, the lack of sensation almost painful.

When they remove the plug in her ass she’s only complacent because it’s soon replaced with her daily enema. She wails in delight as the tube is fed into her loose canal, cumming from the sensation of such huge quantities of liquid being forced inside her, the deliciously painful distension. Her breasts are large heavy melons, pooling on her chest lazily. Her areolas have grown duskier, what were once the size of pert quarters now at least triple that size. The creatures in her breasts wiggle inside, happily feeding off the overflowing milk she produces just as the slugs feed. Her nipples are thick and long now- truly ready to feed.

Her womb has happily grown with the creatures inside, and now she revels in the heavy pressure. In the second month of her gestation they begin pressing heavily on her bladder- she can no longer wait for the short moment in the mornings and evenings when the priests wash her down with cloth and hold cup between her legs for her to relieve herself in. Instead, a tube is fed into her urethra. She lets out a squeal as it enters her, twinges of pain and discomfort, but also a pleasurable fullness. She wishes they would let her have something in her vaginal canal, feeling strangely empty now that her cervix protects the brood in her stomach and nothing fills her there.

Her clitoris hasn’t stopped throbbing since the slug had been placed on it. She can’t see it over the swell of her breasts and stomach, but it feels more prominent, brushing against her thighs when the slug is removed. It pulses constantly and she wishes more now than ever there was someone to put their mouth on it.

Thankfully, after three months of this, the priests come in to bring her a new stimulation.

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Ama screams and wails.

She’s near passing out again when a bucket of water is splashed on her face. She goes to retch, but there’s nothing in her stomach, hasn’t been since they stopped giving her her enemas three days ago. Now she sees why.

“Please, I’m b-begging!” She gasps, voice raw. “Get it off! G-Get it off! Oh god, oh god, please another one’s coming!” She screams.

They’d arrived that morning, strapping her down to the bed so she can't move, They held a honeyed aphrodisiac of a gel, spreading it liberally on her areolas. It had tingled, but she’d thought nothing of it. Then she’d felt the insects in her breasts start to move. At first they were uncomfortably active, and then they’d begun to travel.

They force their way from the their comfort at the base of her ducts near her sternum towards her nipple. All at once they scurry inside her, tickling and painful at the same time, stimulating her in a wholly new and delicious way. There is still a slug on her clitoris and for the first time in a long time she can actually feel the ebbs and flows of her orgasms, rather than just a wash of pleasure.

But then they’d reached her nipples, intending to leave her. At first it was just twinges of pain, then it began to burn and ache. Even that was pleasurable, the kind of pain she’d grown accustomed to.

But it didn’t stop. For an hour the first of it kind labours at the entrance to her nipple, forcing his head against it from the inside, pushing at the sensitive skin inside to try and detect a weakness. Eventually it realizes only through sheer force can it reach the sweet scent above and it begins pushing through the small entrance of her milk duct.

That’s when Ama had began to scream and shriek- twinges turning to sharp and agonizing, a constant blazing pain racking in both of her breasts. Worse, the insects who were not first were angry and irritated as well- attempting to force ahead of one another to the main duct.

Ama passes out from the excruciating pain of her nipple stretching around the creatures. But the priests had splashes her awake, so she can scream and beg while the rest of its body follows suit, thrashing and wiggling angrily.

The moment it escapes the priests grab it and put it in a basket, perhaps saving it for next years poor tribute. Ama can't concern herself, though, as the next insect began to force its way out.

She pants and groans low in her throat, anything to try and distract from the pain. Each insect takes at least ten minutes to free itself, her nipples barely loosening in between each creature. She screams and wails and faints, and even more disgustingly she orgasms. Her clitoris is never released from the slugs and slowly the agonizing pain becomes a catalyst for her orgasms.

Five hours later the final insect emerges, her nipples now gaping and drooling a constant stream of milk. She shudders through one more orgasm and passes out.

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Ama is incoherent as they bathe her, too weak to stand and vaguely cognizant of the new sensation her changed body exhibits. Her nipples ache in pain, and the rest of her aches to be filled.

Her stomach hangs low and heavy, her breasts resting upon it. All of her holes feel loose and she wishes there were something to fill them. Her breasts gush a constant stream of thick milk.

The priests wash away the sweat and grime from her exertions, moving her to a nearby bench so they can rub a series of sweet smelling lotions into her skin. Her hair is braided into a crown on her head to keep it out of her face. When she is done they take her to a new room, one she hasn’t been to before. She is brought to the wall where there’s a hole.

They maneuver her upper body through, her hands drawn out and attached with iron handcuffs to the wall on either side. Her stomach and ass are still inside the room, but her breasts and head are on the outside of the temple, a cobbled patio that villagers often bring offerings to. Her legs are pulled apart and shackled, leaving her with very little movement.

She lets out a moan as the priests begin feeding the enema tube into her asshole, growing wet at the feeling of fullness as she’s finally given an enema after three days without.

She can hear the murmuring of the priests and the high mother, someone touches her ass, and then she feels fingers between her legs, prodding at her vagina and then moving north to touch her urethra. It’s been empty since they removed the catheter within her to extract the creatures in her breasts. They prod at it, then rub something cool on the tiny hole. It’s an odd sensation, one that is almost… pleasurable?

She yelps as something cold and wet touches it, squirming against the hole, before pushing into her. Ama squeals, wiggling away from the sensation. It does little to deter the tiny salamander that was brought to her urethra as it begins wiggling through her urethra to her bladder. It burns a little, but the pressure is a welcome sensation.

Ama squeals and shrieks as a second and third salamander are fed into her urethra, burning and stretching all along the way until they settle in her bladder, leaving her feeling as if she needs to pee and overfull. What she doesn’t know is that the creatures will sit in her bladder and feed on her urine until full. Then they’ll crawl out to be replaced, allowing the priests to minimize mess and get Ama used to another form of sensation.

It’s so early that it’s still dark outside. About a half hour later, when her enema is over and her plug has been inserted the sun begins to rise and the first villagers come.

There are only a few farmers and they all bring with them young foals and cattle. One has a goat. She knows villagers often bring their livestock here to pray for its strength, but she's never understood why they had to bring the creatures with them.

Realization dawns on her as a farmer brings his calf to her. Her breasts have been leaking a steady stream of milk to the ground. The animal attempts to lap at the milk on the ground, but its owner scolds it, grabbing one of Ama’s breasts and pinching her nipples in his fingers. Ama squeals, breasts still terribly sore, her milk ducts still stretched out.

The calf hungrily sniffs at her breasts before messily latching on. It’s clearly hungry as it begins bucking its head, sucking painfully hard.

“Ow! Oh, please, make it go slower! I-It’s too rough!” Ama begs, but the farmer ignores her. The hungry calf’s tongue flicks around her nipple, lapping at it in a not totally unpleasurable way, tonging into her milk duct.

It doesn’t take long for another farmer to attach his goat to her other breasts, letting the animal drink its share, ignoring Ama’s pained cries as the animals roughly latch and drink greedily. It’s painful, but there’s also something incredibly pleasurable about the sensation of the milk being pulled from her body. Her body struggles to produce enough milk for the hungry livestock, and she’s left wincing when her milk runs out for short moments, the baby animals are unforgiving in their sucking.

As the day goes on more people arrive, some entering the temple. Ama isn’t expecting it when a cock is suddenly unceremoniously shoved into her vagina. She screams in pleasure as the man fucks her roughly, bringing her to an orgasm very quickly.

After that the fucking only stops for brief moments when one of the salamanders squirms out of her bladder, painfully stretching her urethra with its engorged body, replaced a moment later. Some women bring their babies to feed on her milk, but the majority of the creatures she services are animals.

She orgasms constantly, her vagina soon painfully overused and sensitive. Midday the plug in her ass is removed and soon the worshippers began to use that, fucking her, fisting her. She’s overstretched and overstimulated and it’s with great relief when the priests shoo away the worshippers as night time falls.

She’s removed from her shackles and groggily brought to an area full of pillows. They hold her up while they wipe her down with warm wash clothes. She lets out a painful shriek as one of the priests forces his pinky finger into the entrance of her urethra, disturbing the salamanders enough to squirm out of her body.

Her breasts are still leaking and Ama expects it to continue when a priests pulls out an odd contraption. In the center is a cork plug, tapered. Ama wails as they pinch her nipple, forcing it deep inside her breasts, painfully stretching her nipples around around the cork. It almost feels bigger than the insects. She whimpers and sobs as they work both in, a metal ring attached to the cork fitting snugly around her nipple and tightening to keep it in place.

Finally they lay her amongst the pillows and leave her. She’s too weak to crawl more than a small distance, and she’s exhausted from the strain of the day. She passes out clutching her stomach of unborn silk worms, waiting for the next day so she can endure the same treatment again.

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Five months later Ama wakes up to a sharp pang in her stomach. Over the last while it has continued to grow, two priests have to carry her to the milking perch every day. Her hands can just barely touch around the widest part of her stomach, and her breasts now take an arm each to cup.

In the night the plugs in them keep the milk inside. At first she’d woken up every morning to shooting pain, the skin red to the touch as it tried to accommodate the milk inside. Thankfully, over time they stretched out, and now she can comfortably hold a night’s worth of milk.

But she can tell they aren’t full, so that’s not what’s waking her up. It takes her a groggy moment to realize there’s wetness between her legs… has her water broken?

A sharp shooting pain through her groin confirms her suspicions. She groans, lowly, huffing and struggling to lay herself propped on some cushions. Naturally her feet come up on either side of her, spreading her pussy wide.

Contractions haunt her for the next few hours, and she spends that time dozing between awake and asleep. Sometimes her hands finds her way between her legs, caressing her engorged clit, bringing herself to a strange orgasm urged on by the pangs.

The priests find her panting after a particularly strong orgasm. One runs off to find the high mother, another stays behind, fingering her stretching her vagina open to gaze at her cervix.

The high mother returns with a team of priests. They carry a barrel of hot water and wash clothes, and two empty buckets.

Ama moans through another contraction, whimpering as the pain grows and she feels the worms inside her shift. They’re eager to leave their host.

She can’t concentrate on the words of the priests. She shivers as priests come on either side of her, holding buckets to her breasts as they remove her nipple plugs, collecting the milk from her teats. They replace the plugs when they’re finished and scurry off.

The contractions continue for many hours. She hears people coming to the temple for worship but she can’t concentrate. At first one of the priests manually masturbates her through the contractions, easing the pain. Soon they’re too painful for even that to help and she lets out a low guttural groan through them.

One of the priests fits a bit in her mouth- similar to a horse's. She’s so focused on the painful stretch of her cervix she can barely protest, and she bites down on it harshly as another contraction sweeps through her.

Finally, by mid-morning the worms inside her have had enough. Her cervix isn’t fully dilated, but she can feel the creatures push against it, forcing it wider. The pain is a deep ache that has moments of shooting electricity as her hips feel as though they’ll break from the stretch. She screams wildly behind the gag, but the priests bare it no heed. When she tries to close her legs in a desperate attempt to stop the pain the priests pull them wide, giving her no purchase.

She sobs and screams as the first worm struggles through the opening of her cervix, pushing past the tight ring and continuing forward. There’s a terrible burn in her vaginal canal- she doesn’t understand how she isn’t ripping. Her incoherent screams do nothing to deter the worm as it forces its way to her entrance, stretching Ama until she passes out from the pain, and squirming its way into a priest's waiting arms. It’s whisked to one of Ama’s breasts, where it latches and sucks greedily.

She’s woken from her unconscious state by the pain of the next worm forcing its way through her cervix. She groans deep guttural sounds, panting and sobbing as she prays for the pain to end.

By the third worm to exit her she realizes that the pain ends sooner if she pushes and she begins to do so with gusto. However, the creatures seem unending and she’s exhausted by the seventh worm that wriggles free. Her nipples are raw and painful from the hungry new babes who suck on her tits. Each new worm gets to suck for as long as it takes for her to birth the next and the creatures are greedy. The bite and jerk at her teats, demanding more and more milk with their mouths full of her elongated nipples.

The birthing continues throughout the day, Ama begging for some form of break. It doesn’t matter if she gives up on pushing, even when she isn’t doing so the worms force their way through her firm cervix. She passes out intermittently, the priests only concerned with the infant silkworms.

Finally, the fourteenth worm struggles free and she’s empty of the parasites. She slips into sleep for a brief moment as the final worms suck on her teats. When she awakens she realizes she’s being carried to a village on a raised platform. Fear overcomes her as she sees the village square come into view.

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Ama is weak and loose, her vagina gapes, her asshole smacks wetly from it’s daily enema conditioning, and her nipples leak constantly.

She knows there is no protection as the priests lower her, and the platform she’s on, into the center of the village square. They manhandle her, ignoring the squeals of pain as her tender pussy is jostled in the movement. They force her to her knees, tying her ankles to two corners of the square. They fix a collar to her neck and attach a lead, threading it through an anchor in the floor so she’s forced to press her cheek to the cool wood of the platform. Her hands are tied behind her back and she whimpers exhaustedly at the uncomfortable position.

She’s barely lucid, in pain and awaiting the next form of torture.

It doesn’t take long, the village men gathering around her. She can hear voices, but can’t discern words. One of them fingers at her vagina and she lets out a shriek that has them laughing. She begins to cry as the fingers begin to prod and then a penis fills her. It’s painful and tugs at the raw walls of her vagina  and she tries her best to squirm away, but her muscles are weak from almost a year of living as tribute.

There’s a squabble and the man inside her pulls out without finishing. A moment later he’s replaced, and Ama understands why. This man is significantly more well-endowed, pushing painfully to the end of her vaginal canal in one thrust. She screams in agony, fear and terror rising as he begs him not to continue, finally understanding as he thrusts again, pulling her hips against his body.

The head of his cock pushes against her cervix, and then one more violent thrust and it shoves through. Ama goes silent, heart skipping a beat at the total anguish that travels through her body. She can feel the pain all the way to her fingertips.

It takes her a moment to realize that she’d passed out, awakening to a different penis pushing into her body. It’s not as long, but now that her cervix has already been roughly pushed apart by the last man’s cock it’s easier for this man to force his through, cock head in her womb. She cries, sobbing and barely able to breathe through the pain, waiting for the man to finish. She can feel the spurts of warmth deep in her core, screaming as he pulls free of her body.

A moment later and he’s replaced, the torture continuing as they plan to impregnate her. Ama doesn’t know it yet, but the worms have increased her fertility and soon she’ll be pregnant with multiple babies, often from multiple men. But first, they must fill her womb with seed.

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Ama isn’t expecting her water to break when it does. Some men have been fucking her for the last hour, those who have already orgasmed holding her legs high and apart. She’s laying on her back, swollen stomach heavy. She can’t remember the last time she’d spoken a word, no one speaks directly to her anymore and it’s been well over six months since someone acknowledged a word she’d said.

She barely moves anymore, crawling along the floor with her heavy stomach at the end of each day back to her large bedroom. She’d received baths for the first few months of her pregnancy, but now the priests bring in warm water and wash her down every night, keeping her body smooth and hairless and scented with warm oils. It’s exhausting just to sit up and some days she’s terrified of the sight of her stomach, positive there are at least five children within.

Still some form of pride fills her, her breasts are the largest she has ever seen on a woman, and after the birth of the worms and the constant weight of these new children in her womb her hips have expanded. She’s the perfect breeding sow, her body better suited to it than any woman she’s ever seen. Ama can’t help but take pride from that in her pleasure filled days.

She’s tugged from her reverie as a man forces his cock down her throat, delighting in her gagging as he fucks her throat hard and fast. She lets out a pleasured squeal around the intrusion as someone tugs at the stone anal plug that had been fitted into her earlier in the day. It’s painfully large, especially next to the thick cock in her pussy and she whines in pain as it’s slowly tugged out of her, stretching her anus wide. Fingers find her clit and a moment later she’s cumming, whining like an animal while the men cum into her throat and pussy.

They’ve barely pulled out when something inside her squeezes and she feels wetness between her legs. She’s confused, assumes it’s just an inordinate amount of cum, but then there’s a squeeze in her lower back that has her gasping and letting out a guttural sound.

One of the village women lets out a gasp and then scrambles away to find a priest, the villagers who had been playing with her backing away. Fear grips Ama’s heart as she realizes it’s her water that’s broken, meaning soon she’ll bear the children that have grown inside her.

It’s less than five minutes before the high priestess comes with five disciples, deftly commanding them into action. They completely ignore Ama, lifting her gently but firmly, one of them helping support her stomach. She groans at the movement, dizzy from standing for the first time in perhaps even months. She’s brought to the altar, settled onto the stone slab of it. It’s tilted slightly forward and she lets out an exhausted humph as she settles onto it. There’s a building pressure in her lower back and she lets out a shocked cry as another contraction hits her, pulling the air from her body.

It comes in waves of a terrifying squeezing pain that has her whining unhappily before it releases her. A priestess brings with her two metal contraptions that she fixes at the bottom of the altar. They unfold into stirrups and her weak legs are brought into the air, leather straps binding her wantonly spread.

Ama tries to breath and remain calm as the high priestess fingers between her legs, checking her cervix. She whine’s as they insert a speculum between her legs, spreading her so wide she can feel the cool breeze on her inner walls. It twinges painfully in the last few twists that expand her but she’s too afraid of what is to come to protest.

In doesn’t take much longer for another contraction to rock her body. She tries to arch her back against the pain, clutching the distended stomach that keeps her pinned down. She feels so vulnerable and spread, unable to put her feet down for traction while her body convulses. Her breasts leak milk continuously and soon she’s covered in sticky sweet milk.

Ama labours for another two hours while the room fills with villagers, her contractions slowly beginning to come closer together. The high priest stays between her legs diligently but the villagers are allowed to come up to her. She cries, letting out hysterical yelps as one man forces his pinky into her nipples, painfully stretching them and laughing as milk spurts out around the appendage. Another fingers her, leaving her convulsing in orgasm as a contraction hits her again. They grow more and more painful and she grunts and moans in pain.

The urge to push grows, but she tries to fight it, terrified at the thought of human babies escaping her tight cervix. The worms had been half the size of a baby’s head. As the contractions begin coming in quick succession she sees the high priestess frowning between her legs, before whispering something to a priest who scurries off.

He returns to Ama screaming, another contraction overtaking her body in horribly painful waves. It’s nothing like the pain she’s endured so far, her whole body feeling like it’s split in two, the terrible pressure of a child’s head against her cervix. Her eye’s are closed and she’s sobbing when she feels the high mother between her legs.

A moment later a shrieking pain ricochets through her clitoris and she finds herself pushing through a contraction, unable to stop as pain radiates from her clitoris. The high mother has a wasp like she’d first endured pressed to her clitoris, forcing her to contract and push.

Ama’s voice is hoarse as she begins pleading, finding words. “P-please, n-no. H-urt. S-so muuuuch!” She screams as the high mother ignores her quickly applying another wasp. Ama’s back arches off the table as she pushes, the sting of the wasp coupling with the sheerly unfathomable stretch of a head pushing through a cervix. She falls back to the stone slab exhausted and pained, villagers crowding near to peer between her legs. Ama sobs at the stretch, an unending throb in her core as the baby’s widest part is now overstretching her cervix and vaginal canal. The only answer is to push and so she does, screaming and thrashing as the pain becomes too unbearable.

Tears flow endlessly as she tries to take a moment to break, only to be overcome by the overwhelming need to push again. “C-can’t!” She screams, dizzy and terrified as her body pushes down of its own accord, bringing the baby to the entrance of her vagina. It’s horribly tight and painful and she screams as the high priestess fits her fingers in alongside the baby, trying to help it escape.

It takes one more push for Ama to force the head out and she sobs in relief. She’s weak but it is only one more overwhelming push and the high priestess is yanking the baby painfully from Ama’s body. She sobs in relief, shocked and awed as the baby begins to cry. It’s quickly carried away and Ama nearly passes out as she realizes there’s an unknown number of babies still to come.

The high priestess leaves her alone for about twenty minutes while Ama fights the need to keep pushing, too frightened of how sore she already is. It doesn’t matter and soon she finds herself helplessly pushing as her body demands. It’s exhausting, continuing for an hour with seemingly no progress.

Finally she feels the head of the second baby reaching her cervix. She screams as it pushes through the already pained entrance to her womb. Thankfully once it is in her canal it slides to the end much easier, and Ama sobs in relief as it slips effortlessly into the high priestess’s hands.

Ama is exhausted, so thoroughly burnt out from her labour with more babies to come. She tries to push weakly, tears falling from pain and exhaustion as she finds her muscles too weak to properly push. The priests talk between her legs, villagers coming close to curiously peek at her and cheer at her weak pushes. They seem to be taking bets, some of them fucking on the sidelines while they watch her struggle through the birth.

After an hour with no progress on the next two babies the priests return with pleasure snails. Ama protests, tries to push them away with her hands, but they merely tie her wrists together and anchor them to the stone above her head. Two are placed on her nipples and one on her throbbing clitoris.

Their plan works, as by the third orgasm Ama can’t help but push despite her exhaustion. She screams and sobs wildly as the snail sucks unendingly, a third baby aligning to her cervix. This one is large and his progress slow. Ama screams and wails as each push inches the widest part of its head through her canal. It’s the most mind numbing continuous torture and she gags, body attempting to vomit from the sheer pain.

The crowd rejoices when the fourth baby pops free and she sobs in relief. The priests feel her stomach, checking for more babies. Ama prays it’s the end, but a moment later she can feel something shifting inside her- another child. She can’t push, she’s positive and she screams and moans desperately trying to weakly contract her muscles, the slugs providing her no relief.

For two hours more she struggles, passing in and out of consciousness. The slugs are removed from her body and she’s stung again by the wasps. Her arching back and screaming do nothing to strengthen her body and she’s stung again three times in a row. The lightning pain has her heaving again, passing out and barely able to rouse herself even when the priests splash water on her. It’s been three hours on the final child.

Finally the high priestess makes some sort of decision and Ama feels an intrusion at her vaginal canal. A hand, reaching deep inside her. She cries and squirms as she feels it reach her tender cervix, screaming hysterically at the feeling of tugging fingers in such an intimate place. She babbles, begging for relief as the priestess probes her womb for the final baby. Ama shrieks and jerks, a sickening feeling as the mother tries to coax the baby to her canal.

She struggles for a half hour before the priests bring out a slick aloe paste, coating both of the mothers hands in the goo before she returns to the sacrifice’s body. Ama arches and begs as two hands are forced inside her, pushing past her canal into her tender womb, forcing her cervix apart. She can’t see- pain blinding her as she shrieks and jerks to the internal struggles of the baby and the priestess’s hands. The villagers cheer as the baby is brought to the entrance of her womb. She pushes weakly, but it barely helps and the priestess resorts to gently tugging the baby into her canal. The stretch is unbearable, her hips pushed to the absolute limit of what they can takevas the infant is inched slowly out of her canal.

Finally the child tugs free and the crowd cheers. She hovers between awake and sleep as she hears the baby cry, before the pain finally over takes her and she passes out.

Chapter Text

Ama observes herself in the mirror, admiring the glinting gold jewellery that adorns her body. It has been six months since her trial ended, and the priests began to prepare her to return to society.

Her trials had lasted a year and a half, another tribute already a third of the way through the same process by the time she’d given birth. After she birthed the babies the priests had taken her to the baths, cleaned her doted on her, applied soothing gels and creams to her body and insides. She’d been taken to a soft room, given pillows and blankets and rest. The priests brought her children to her, letting them feed greedily from her engorged breasts. 

They’d stopped using the cork insert on her nipples, replacing it with a much more comfortable leather band that they tightened when her babies had fed. Her ass would never be able to close on its own, but she was fitted with a more comfortable lightweight plug and belt that held it in place. They began physical therapy and talked with her and praised her as she returned to her humanity, regaining speech.

It was a truly sacred time, one where Ama was able to finally appreciate the body the process had given her. Her breasts were large and engorged, barely fitting in an arm each. Her hips were wide, her thighs thicker and stomach soft and pliable. 

As she grew stronger her stomach shrunk post pregnancy and she regained her sense of self. She admired her beauty in the mirrors of her room, was complimented when she was allowed out for supervised walks with the village.

There, she met her husband, to whom she would be wed today. Ilik was a high ranking clansman, a tall thick man with a cock that hung low and heavy. She’d seen him at the temple occasionally, knew that no untrained woman would be able to take such a phallus.

But she could. He’d approached the High Priestess for her hand when she was released from the temple, and from that day on had brought offerings and gifts to the temple and Ama. 

The jewellery that adorns her today is all from him, the ornate family crest on the gold choker affixed to her neck. Thin gold chains drip over her shoulders, beautiful ruby gold charms dangling from the leather that prevents her nipples from leaking. He’d provided her a new belt, made of gold and leather, with a special gold armour that nestles around her clit, leaving it proudly on display.

Some tributes married after their time at the temple, others went on to care for the infants of town with their milk, and yet more simply went to the brothels to live out a beautiful life of birth giving and sex.

Ama is pleased with the thought of marriage, servant to a beautiful man, cherished and given the chance to bear more children.

The wedding is exquisite, a beautiful feast and short ceremony at Ilik’s palatial family home. As soon as the ceremony has ended he kisses her breathlessly, lays her back on the altar, and begins to lick her denied clitoris. 

For the last six months she’d been denied anything but her enemas, no stimulation or insertion. Ilik’s soft tongue makes her cry out animalistically, within minutes she is shaking through an orgasm. He kisses her and begins to fuck her, stretching and filling her with the most pleasurable sensation she’d ever experienced. He smiled at her wanton cries and gripped her hips as he set a relentless pace, spilling his seed deep inside her.

The rest of the party went much the same. Ilik moved them to the floor, where he had Ama straddle him while he watched her face as the guests took turns filling her loose ass. She whispered thanks and pleasure to her husband as he held her tight, kissing her and caressing her clit until she came every so often.

At the end of the evening he carried her soft body to the baths, bathing them before the settled into bed. Ama sighed contentedly, for the first time in so long feeling used and full. She murmured her love to her husband as she fell asleep.