A wave of nausea flooded through Quinn. She groaned, her throat vibrating but no air rushing past to make a noise. A steady headache pulsed in her head, adding to her discomfort and the torture of being stuffed to her limits, suffocating, and the fluttering in her lungs. She rolled her head to the side, wishing she could throw up but nothing came out of her surging stomach.

Each cough wracked her body. She needed to expel the pressure in her lungs, but her body refused to stop. Instead, it tore at her muscles as it tried repeatedly, many times a second. It was hopeless and unstoppable, a torture.

She was starving. She didn't know how long the eggs were inside her but her stomach grumbled with need and the headache continued to pulse in her head. She opened her mouth and drew in a gulp of sea water but the salt didn't parch her thirst or sate the need.

(Weak.)

Quinn shuddered at the powerful thought that ripped through her mind. She tried to respond, to find the words, but no noise came out of her mouth.

(Your body weak. Unable to survive to breed.)

Unable to do anything, she mouthed “I'm sorry.” She wanted to say more, but she lost herself in a round of coughing as the wiggling tickled at her sanity. She couldn't focus on anything happening to her body, there were too many things and it was getting hard to concentrate.

(Feed.)

Lit by the light from the wall of eggs, a new tendril came hovering near her mouth. It looked different than the others. It was almost black but had a clear tip that ended in a sharp-looking point. The clear part shifted in and out of the opaque one, as if it was a tendril inside another one.

Unable to resist, Quinn opened her mouth and prayed it wouldn't hurt like the ache in her womb or her destroyed pussy which still burned every time an egg started to slip out before it was shoved back into place by the plug that stuffed her cunt.

The translucent tip withdrew inside the outer tendril as it came down. The remaining, blunt-ended tendril was thick. When it pressed against her lips, she had to force her jaw painfully apart before it could get past her teeth.

To her surprise, the tendril stopped right after her teeth. She tried to keep her jaw open, but the strain was too much. Reluctantly, she relaxed her jaw and cringed, waiting for something to strike her.

Her teeth sank into the spongy tendril and stopped. It still forced her jaw too far open, right at the edge of being dislocated, but she couldn't bite any further down.

The tendril hardened inside her mouth, keeping her jaw obscenely stretched apart.

Discomfort sent a surge of pain coursing through her body.

There was movement, not from the tendril that pried her mouth open but from the one inside the outer shell. It peeked out and slipped into her mouth, a sharp taste against her tongue as it explored her opening.

She shivered at the sensation. She tried to move her head to look, but the tendril prying her open forced her head back up, forcing her mouth and throat into a straight line.

A ripple of heat filled her. She was about to be raped again. There was only one reason for the position. Her muscles clenched and relaxed. Between her legs, her futile attempts only emphasized the thick knot of tendril blocking her cervix and filling her pussy to its limits. It never stopped wiggling or moving and the constant waves of pleasure were just as maddening as the squirming fishes or the slowly increasing girth of the eggs inside her womb.

The inner tendril slipped further along. It moved slowly, which made her gag as it explored the back of her throat before sliding further down. It squirmed and wiggled down her throat, tracing out every centimeter before reaching her stomach.

Quinn's body spasmed as she tried to cough and gag at the same time. It was overwhelming as the fear of suffocating continued. She couldn't stop her automatic reflexes, no matter how much she tried. She was helpless and stuffed.

There was a twisting sensation and then the tendril was in her stomach. She felt the pressure inside her as the nausea increased sharply.

Quinn waited for food to pour through her stomach, but instead the tendril continued to slip deeper inside her. The outer layer kept her mouth apart, so the first she felt of movement was the ripples that ran along her tongue and throat. She caressed it, unable to anything else as the tendril continued to slide into her.

She didn't know what it was doing but she could feel it as it swelled in her stomach and then worked deeper inside her. With a sickening sensation, she felt it reach the other end of her stomach and force its way into her belly. Different nerves set on fire as it invaded her intestines and worked along them.

Panic filled her as it traced every centimeter of her insides. Each twist of movement ground against the mass in her womb and her tightly stretched skin. It added girth as it ran through the coils of her insides, swelling her past her limits as it followed the length around her womb, bladder, and sex.

After an eternity of agony, the tendril forced itself into her rectum. Her sphincter swelled from the insides, as if she was about to shit, but it was the tendril that forced itself out of her asshole. She couldn't stop it, no matter how much she pulled back and the ripples of movement tortured her sphincter as it continued to slide through her body.

Every centimeter of her insides were touched, rubbed, and stretched as it continued along. It moved with agonizing slowness and she felt parts of her body she didn't know existed. Aches rose and fell as the tendril continued past her, the bitter taste of it flooding her mouth.

Quinn shuddered at the sensation. She was stuffed and she didn't know how much more she could take. She tried to do anything, but she couldn't. Every hole in her body was filled and forced open, jammed with some tendril that kept it from closing.

After hours of being impaled, the tendril inside her mouth stopped moving. It seemed to settle in place.

She coughed violently, the pressure in her throat not making her gagging any easier. She couldn't move anymore, her head was forced back for the tendril. She only hoped that when the other tendril holding her jaw open withdrew, she wouldn't hurt whatever was impaling her from mouth to ass.

It never pulled out.

There were no more thoughts from Mosar, no more direction or hint of what was going on. Only the agony of too many things happening to her body.

She started to black out when the first movement coursed down her throat. It was a thick liquid inside the tube of the inner tendril. she could feel it surging past her tongue but couldn't taste it. It rolled down her throat and into her stomach. It swelled there as it slowed. More liquid followed after it, increasing the girth of her stomach.

Quinn thought it had stopped but it was still moving through the other parts of her body. She could feel it coursing along her intestines, rippling and moving as it ran her length.

Her headache slowly faded and the nausea faded. Relief flooded her senses. It felt like silence despite the wriggling and pressure. She smiled around the tendril forcing her jaw open and let her lips seal around it. It wasn't going anywhere. She wondered if she would spend the rest of her life impaled by a tentacle and continually stuffed.

Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on the pleasure of the tendril coiling in her pussy and the liquid ripples traveling out of her sphincter. The two pleasures eased some of her discomfort and she managed to let her mind drift. She couldn't do anything else but suffer through an agony of endless pleasure.