Lair of the Sacred Horribs
This was once the chamber of the Senior Priestess, second to the High Priestess and thus next to her suite. It isn't all that big, but big enough for the current occupant: a 'modified' Horrib Queen, birthed by the current High Priestess herself. The surfaces are all covered in hive resin, with alcoves used for holding 'victims' while the Queen herself is suspended in the center of the chamber in a cross between a cocoon and a throne made of extruded chitin.

It's difficult for Nicora to tell the passage of time in the Horrib-Haze. There are lucid breaks of course, but once the haze falls once more it's almost impossible to remember what was real, a hallucination or a dream. There are feedings, and milkings and the constant rutting from a drone, with a few conversations. Nicora is sure she's given directions to Penance. Sometimes Otto talks to her about.. something. They seem to be keeping others from visiting, perhaps not wanting her to be seen like this. Sometimes the Queen sings to her, or at least that what it seems like.

Nicora's vision and senses are being affected by the euphoric brew that the larvae pump into her. She can't focus her eyes or ears beyond a few feet, meaning that what she sees and hears most clearly is her own distorted body. Even the aura senses are blurred. This means that the sharpest parts of her reality at the moment are the further swelling of her belly and breasts. If not for the motion of the drone, she might not be certain she even had a body beyond the belly. Things glow under her skin as well, either from auras or literally. The patterns can be mesmerizing.

"I hope the queen doesn't keep me like this forever, constantly implanting and birthing," Nicora thinks in a moment of clarity while she blinks over and over, trying to clear her vision to see just how bad her gut looks at this point, as well as her breasts. She can also still feel someone rutting her; Gorphat's blessing that keeps that area extremely swollen and puffy means she feels any contact there. She isn't even sure how the drones don't take a break. Don't they get tired, plug her, and just ... relax once in a while?

Things are.. pendulous. Even with milking, the first two sets of breasts hang floppily, and Nicora can't do much to swing them out of the way. But the curve of her belly is still clear, and has already caught up with the lower primary breasts in terms of how low it hangs. And it glows.. in patches. Whether it's from her own blood or from the larvae is impossible to tell though. The swelling belly has pushed the four tertiary teats further apart, but the edges are still visible due to their swelling. What can be glimpsed looks a bruised shade of purple. Beyond that, the world goes out of focus.. except for an Eeee girl that ducks down to be seen beneath the belly. "I've heard that pregnant women have a glow to them, but maybe you are taking that a bit far," Barada says with a giggle.

"Maybe you can see better; what is wrong with my belly teats?" Nicora asks of Barada; trying to not sound like she's horrified by her own predicament. "And you must be jealous your own daughters don't go this far for you..."

"My daughters go as far as I need them to," Barada claims. "And those things are teats? On your belly? Then again.. I guess you do have litters." She makes her way around to where she can actually look at Nicora's face right-side up. "That bug on your back looks like it's trying to churn butter inside of you. Don't they know you do that after you get the milk out?"

"They don't stop. It ... encourages growth," Nicora claims as she strains to lift her head up "And what is this about me having litters?"

"Well.. I don't know what else you'd call this," Barada notes. "I suppose since the first batch it's all been one at a time for the tentacle monsters and the queen here. You certainly have more than two in there now! All this just so Gorphat can spite Inala?"

"There are five in there. I can feel them squirming about constantly. How bad does it look?" Nicora has to ask. "And yes, the fungus monsters were one at a time. That ... wasn't so bad."

"It looks like a pale, phosphorescent mushroom cap about to explode and release its spores," Barada describes. "Or tumorous pustule about to pop. Sorry.. it really looks like there's gonna be an explosion of some sort."

Nicora frowns at that. "That would be very bad; I could not survive that," she remarks and sighs. "You won't let me die, right, Mother?" she thinks to Gorphat. Then her attention returns to Barada and she asks, "What brings your visit?"

"Well, you've gotten Cricket looking for toys, and sent off stuff to the Mages to figure out.." Barada notes, then tilts her head. "All this pregnancy stuff makes me wonder though. You do know that among the Sisters, only Inala can have children right?"

Barada grins. "So.. doesn't that make you curious about how there can be a Son of Sunala?" she asks, looking a bit mischievous.

"Given I exist, such is possible. I never thought much beyond it," Nicora admits, "But apparently you know something."

"Well, the practical version deals with Srinalas and such.. but both those and the Barsunala predate the Ritual of Seven Wounds - before Sunala and the current identities of the Sisters existed," Barada claims.

Nicora arches her bare brow. "That's interesting," she notes, trying to not sound too curious. "Going to tell me more? Or is that going to cost me?"

"Welll..." Barada says, tapping her lips.. and then tapping Nicora's nose. "That depends! I'll want to ask you some things in return."

"Oh.. that wouldn't be fair," Barada says, and reaches out to grab Nicora's hand. The hand of the goddess passes through the resinous restraints.. and even through Nicora's flesh to grab onto something else. Barada tugs, and pulls Alptraum out of Nicora. The haze clears, giving way to a shrine. There are seven alcoves, with smaller ones below them. In each is a very lifelike statue of one of the Bound Sisters. There's also a circular bench in the center of the chamber, which Alptraum finds himself seated on. And then Barada sits in his lap. "You're bigger than me now!" she chirps. "Nothing to pity!"

Alptraum smirks, then promptly licks a finger, sticks in in Barada's left ear, then twirls it. "And that was cheating, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," he remarks dryly. "What is it you want?"

"Ahh!" Barada squeals and swats at the intruding finger. "Oh.. I was going to ask after I'd already told you my secret," she replies, grinning wide. "That way you'll feel indebted when I ask."

"Ah, but you may ask something I wouldn't want to answer and would be willing to give up knowing the answer to my question," Alptraum points out.

"Yes, that is the point," Barada says. "I don't think you'll mind answering though. But this is just The Way Things Are Done when you're a goddess."

"And if you haven't noticed, I have a way of changing that," Alptraum counters and beeps Barada's nose.

Rubbing her nose, Barada says, "Well, you can't change it unless you know about it, so I'm technically giving you two secrets."

Alptraum actually playfully gropes Barada, since she's not nearly as innocent as she looks after all. "Fine, fine," he says with a sigh.

The youngest goddess giggles, wiggles a bit in Alptraum's lap, and then waves her hand to make the walls spin. They stop when the alcove of Rinala is before them, and it grows bigger as well until the figure is life-sized and even slightly animated. Black haired and furred, if the eyes were red instead of silver Alptraum could be looking at Rosalind - which makes the shiny 'star-stone chain' binding her wrists and neck a bit more disturbing. The lower alcoves have gone, their figures now holding hands at Rinala's feet. Twins, a boy and a girl in the image of Rinala, except with white hair.

The statue in itself makes him uneasy enough to shift about, especially given who it reminds him of. Granted cuffs could be fun ... but. He shakes his head to stop that thought and then arches his brow. "I had a sister?" he has to ask.

"Back then, the twins were Haros and Guf," Barada says. "Rinala's children, to aid in her work. Haros to collect the souls of the dead, Guf to hold them in her womb until they could be reborn into new lives. With the coming of Sunala, they became the Barsunala and Srinala."

Alptraum's head tilts. "Can't say I care for the names," he admits. "So, that's the origin. When the changes came, they changed with it."

"We all must change with the times," Barada says. "Although that change was likely orchestrated by Diphath - according to the mythology of the Yodhrinala, anyway."

"They hold to the events of the Birth of the Seven Sisters, with a twist," Barada says. "And I know of it because Revelation was part of it. In the poem, Vael the Mother is slain by Bael the Creator, in order to fertilize the earth and give rise to the Eeee. But in her death, she confided to Revelation that she and her sisters bonds could be broken if they turned on their father in his sleep. That is the classic telling. The Yodhrinala.. have a different version. Vael is already dead when she speaks to Revelation - Her corpse animated by Diphath, who also told the plan to Revelation through it."

"Well, it would make some sense if the goal was to corrupt as part of it," Alptraum must concede. He chews on Barada's ear, thoughtful. "Granted none of it could be, or all of it, or just parts. Legends are like that."

"Does my ear taste good?" Barada asks playfully. "And Legends must come from somewhere. We know the Eeee really came from the stars. The Birth of the Seven Sisters may be based on the events of that arrival. It could be a tale of mutiny, driven by corruption or conspiracy. After all, as the saying goes in Babel: history is written by the victors."

"That saying goes everywhere, not just Babel," Alptraum points out, then liiiiicks the spot he chewed on. "Is there anything more you're willing to tell me about this impersonation?"

"Only the Yodhrinala tell their version, and that only to themselves," Barada notes. "There were an outlawed cult. Maybe for that reason, as well as for representing a version of Sunala that would be seen as better for being enslaved."

"So, you're telling me I should go ask them?" Alptraum inquires and makes a face. "It isn't like they're happy to see me after all."

"They couldn't tell you any more than I have," Barada says. "There are other places you should seek answers. Places only you can go."

"My.. a place where I cannot see?" Barada asks with a smirk. "My thought was rooted in the more recent past.. well, comparatively recent," the girl explains. "The Rephidimites and others speak of the great Ark that brought forth the peoples of Sinai. For us in Babel, we have Vael instead. Perhaps the corpse of my mother still exists, where it fell from the heavens."

"The Tower," Alptraum remarks. "I'm pretty sure if any place is an ark of some sort, that is it."

"There are places I cannot see," Barada notes. "That is one of them. Oh, I can see what others have seen, of course. But that means there are places deep within that nobody has seen since the day of my birth."

"No one can go that deep anymore. Not since the attack on the tower that released what was stored down there," Alptraum points out.

"I suspect you have better resources then anyone else, should you attempt to explore the buried past," Barada says, then licks Alptraum's nose. "And you mention the City of the Fallen. Is that to do with the message to Caroban, requesting a forbidden tome on Blood Magic?"

"Part of it, I suspect," Barada says. "What is it you sought in Rephath's home.. for a start."

"Oh, that," Alptraum says and shrugs lightly. "Researching historical documents on Dipath and the battles with the Yodhrephath. It's how I found reference to a fallen city."

"And you intend to go there?" Barada asks, resting her head on Alptraum's shoulder.

"Gorphat tests.. sometimes to the point of breaking, admittedly," Barada says. "What about that place interests you?"

"It may be the place where the General gave up living to become the thing she is now," Alptraum answers. "If so, I want to know how and why. It may provide evidence of weakness."

"And does this tie in to the book on Blood Magic in any way?" Barada asks. "Did you find something in the ruins of the Diphath shrine on Mount Rephath?"

"Ah, but I've already answered your question. This is a new one," Alptraum points out.

"It's more of a continuation I think," Barada says with a slight pout. "It still happened on Mount Rephath, after all."

"Well, I will suppose I will allow it," Alptraum concedes. "Yes, I found evidence of blood magic. Some sort of organ-blood draining jar. No idea what it does, but it had patterns on it that link it to the fallen city."

"Vampire cultists drinking blood.. not a big surprise," Barada notes. "Why did you take the Air Mage along?"

"Because she wanted to come," Alptraum answers, "It was her right; she is Yodhrephath."

"That's the only reason?" Barada asks. "You got very upset with Cricket over her.."

"Cricket was being insulting; I was kinder to her than I could have been," Alptraum points out. "And no, not the only reason. She wanted to collect remains from the ritual that broke the great dream ritual to return them to the Avenger."

Barada's eyes go wide at that bit of information. "Interesting," she says. "Did you find what she was looking for?"

"Of course not," Barada notes. "I don't know how valuable the information is.. or if it's priceless."

"Well, if I told you, you would have no use for it. If you sold it, it would mean the end of you," Alptraum notes.

"You know then?" Barada asks. "Secrets don't need to have value to me beyond being secrets."

"That means Windcaller told you what it was, doesn't it?" Barada asks. "And she knew why the Avenger desired it?"

"She told me because she trusts me. IF you don't treat people like crap, it goes a long way," Alptraum notes.

"I quote: 'That wet-eyed weak-willed mage' is how your daughter, Cricket, referred to Windcaller," Alptraum adds.

"If they were nice, they would be taken advantage of," the goddess insists. "Then I would have to release my curse upon those who did."

"The only reason he currently wanted the remains form that ritual was that he could use it to build a defense against the General," Alptraum says. "And that's all I'm willing to say on it."

"You aren't upset with me are you?" Barada asks, using her fingertips to play with the fur over Alptraum's chest scar.

"No, but I also don't want you selling information to the General's agents," Alptraum notes. "And legends are clear you may sell secrets to the highest bidder, as it were."

"But what is bid is also important," Barada says. "And that would be information of equal value. What would be of equal value to this? Anything that a minion could possibly know? Unlikely. I know where my loyalty is, and I have some leeway within the Lore."

"And if you betrayed this particular secret, I do suppose it could be used to erase you from existence," Alptraum notes. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"I think I will continue to be, so long as secrets are kept and others wish to know them," Barada claims.

"Not if the underlying essence that supports you would be removed," Alptraum remarks a bit dryly. "We recovered a ritual breaker."

"Ah, but that was already used then, to bring about the end of the false dream," Barada says. And grins. "And yet here I remain. Does this mean the General is going to use a massive ritual against Babel?"

"You weren't directly targeted by it," Alptraum points out, only the dream world itself. "As for the General, unknown for certain. But, it is a high possibility the General may try something on that scale."

"So this information can be useful.. at the proper time," Barada says. "Given too late for the enemy to react, but within time enough to bolster the morale of our own side."

"If such comes to pass, yes. What is coming is only conjecture and plans are being made to handle many possibilities," Alptraum points out.

"The General has only her own wits, while we have the wits of many," Barada says with a little laugh. "Do you have any questions for me?" she then asks with a purr.

"That can be good or bad though, depending on your choice of payment," Barada teases, and sheds her robes.

"I see you make a distinction between the two," Barada notes. "He is honorable to a fault. As for trustworthiness.. he was given command of a ship, but not told of the Boomer attack. The High Princess did not trust him, nor his family. They had influence. His wife was very good at playing the games of politics and espionage. She would have been one of my own daughters.. but served me outside of that role, as your friend Tulani does. He did not trust her. Windcaller trusts him, but she may not distinguish between honorable and trustworthy. Being honorable makes one predictable only. It all depends on what you wish to trust him with, really. But he may tell you what he can and cannot be trusted with if asked."

"Trust and honor are two different things," Alptraum notes. "I'm trustworthy, but hardly honorable. I used to pick pockets, but I always did what I promised I would. I need to know if he would see a child he is related to as a pawn, or as someone to protect, even if it means giving up more wealth and power."

"Ah, but he has no surviving children of his own blood," Barada says. "He knows the boy-child is not his own. But.. he vowed to raise him as such. To be his heir and son. Back when that meant something."

"Does he care the child is not his, is the question. That matters. Children should not be pawns," Alptraum notes.

"It doesn't matter to him that the child is not his," Barada says. "He pledged himself to see to the boy's welfare. For many years, he thought he had perished with the rest of his household. If he did not care about the child now, then he would have said as much to the Yodhbarada."

"Mm. Well, I suppose I will get my chance to judge him when I interrogate him myself. I am not going to expose the child to the chance of risk without being fairly confident there is none," Alptraum notes. "I doubt he will be particularly pleased by my interview, though."

Barada waves her hand, causing the room to spin again. This time it stops on Love, and at her feet is a very well built (and well endowed) male Eeee wearing a golden Rughrat hide draped over his head and shoulders. "The rich and powerful cannot afford love," Barada says. "Marriages are for political or financial reasons. Partnerships between families. Only those with far less find favor with Amor.." She gestures to indicate the servant at Love's feet. "If there is love for them, it is between parent and child. Can Karada afford romantic love in his current position? Probably not. But he can love a child. Not his own, but still of his house. All that's left of it now, really."

"That's stupid," Alptraum says. "Incredibly, and fundamentally, stupid. Love is important to all levels and positions. It is what will drive willingness for sacrifice, and willingness to look to the welfare of others beyond yourself. It is what gives you the will and desire to find a hopeless battle against unbeatable odds and still win. To deny it and avoid it because of 'position' means you are removing what could be an incredible asset. Yes, it also comes with its own weaknesses, but they are outweighted. If I felt as you just described, Babel would be doomed. I would have never returned. I would have spit on this very city. I came back because the woman I loved asked me to."

"Then show them how much easier it is to cooperate without needing blood ties," Barada says. "That's what the Merchant Class is doing, anyway. They are making it attractive for those families that still hold influence. And for those who do not find it attractive.. well, they are the ones to watch."

"Hard to do when I'm already considered 'not normal'," Alptraum points out, then shrugs.

"Then let the others take care of it," Barada says. "Change is happening in the public sector, driven by those who want things to be better for everyone. They started before you returned.. they will go on doing so without your aid. They have their methods, and the benefit of time and numbers."

"Considering I will likely not survive the battle with the General, I don't have much of a choice in that anyway," Alptraum notes.

"It isn't my goal, but I am realistic on the outcome," Alptraum says. "She is considerably more dangerous and ruthless than I am."

"And she has little more to lose," Alptraum adds. "I'm no trained warrior like her. I operate through shadows, misdirects, and outright deceit. The only thing I have over her is that I am not afraid to cease to be, unlike she is."

"She is all that the old Babel was twisted into becoming, Alptraum," Barada says. "Proud, arrogant, vengeful, cruel, ruthless.. and hopeless. To defeat her is to bury the past, cut it away from what Babel can be. She must be defeated by the new virtues of Babel."

"And one of those is also the willingness to sacrifice. Babel will survive; but I am prepared for what it may cost me to see it happen," Alptraum notes. "That is all I am saying."

"Rebirth requires sacrifice," Barada agrees. "But there are many kinds of sacrifice."

"What comes, comes. All I can do is prepare for it and trust in others," Alptraum notes and shrugs.

"Do not shrug, as if it does not matter," Barada says. "You are our Champion. Our Sabaoth. Do not discount our hopes in you. Even if you don't trust us."

"I have faith that you will," Barada claims, and kisses Alptraum before hugging him.

"Time will tell what comes to pass. As I said, all I can do is prepare, and that is why I went to Repath's temple. To go round-about to your whole question," Alptraum remarks, then takes the moment while Barada is hugging him to tickle her. "So, I have another question."

"Why is it you don't have some sort of complex chain and lock system here to protect your secrets?" Alptraum asks with a completely straight face while he grabs her lightly in said area.

More laughing and squirming, and then Barada says, "Well.. maybe it is the keyhole. Not many can pick the lock.. oh, but you know how to do that, don't you Mr. Gypsy Scoundrel?"

Fingers that are good at picking pockets are good at a lot of things as the Eeee demonstrates. "I still don't feel comfortable about this; you look so young," he admits.

"Well.. age is a funny thing with us," Barada admits while squirming giddily. "I'm a goddess you know. I don't grow older. But Cricket will be jealous if I tell her. And most of my fun is had with Inala.."

"Cricket has already made passes at me," Alptraum notes as fingers explore a bit more intimately. "Now I'm imagining you will all sorts of body jewelry. Argh."

"Oooo, what kind?" Barada asks, and licks her lips. "What about underwear with bunnies on them?"

"Sorry, you're out of your question limit," Alptraum claims when fingers are drawn back, tickling resumes ... and a different key is used where fingers were.

After getting used to being one-size fits all with Pierce and Nikky, it's almost a shock to find that size matters again! Barada makes all sorts of noises and wiggles (she's certainly 'nubile') but the key clicks into place eventually. Now it's just a matter of hitting all the proper tumblers.

"Not a child, thankfully," is about all Alptruam can think before he dives into trying to see what makes her squirm and wiggle. So, it's a lot of teasing and testing, with the underlying knowledge that if course he'll be back as Nicora at the worst possible time.

It may or may not help that the 'statue' of Love is watching - or that 'Amor' is aroused as well. That particular feature makes it clear where the inspiration for Rugharo came from. And Barada can't stop tittering. But at least she's not making any disturbing noises.

It's only a matter of time, though, and Alptraum knows it. So, he just explores, teases, torments, and wiggles about himself, letting Barada's sounds guide his actions and movements. Inala will surely comment on it later knowing her. Gorphat might punish. Who knows?

Barada is still a goddess.. and of course she knows some 'secret techniques' that uses on Alptraum. It's not the same as the perpetual explosion of being with Inala - if anything, it's like being with Honey. Barada knows the tricks to keep Alptraum exploding when he should be well past the ability. Fatigue and hunger begin to gnaw at him, and the last explosion makes things hazy. Nicora coalesces out of the haze, feeling starved. One of the drones hovers in front of her, holding a still-squirming furry lizard in its claws, and pushing it at different angles against Nicora's nose as if trying to get her to bite.

"I'm surprised you aren't shoving your feeding tube down my throat," Nicora mutters as she eyes the drone before her as well as the lizard-thing. She sighs softly to herself, then tries to bite into the creature to drink from it. She feels hungry, even though she look like she has had way too many meals right now. Gods, even her chest feels like it weighs a ton with the way it hangs down.

The blood is cool.. but refreshing. It seems like it's been ages since she had a proper feeding - and at least this doesn't taste like Tulani again. It doesn't last long, but it fills the hunger ache at least.

Nicora finishes the lizard; grateful for it. But, concerned about it 'not being enough', she frowns and eyes the horrib again. "You should probably feed me too," she tells the horrib. With this much stress on her body, food levels are probably important; even nasty sources.

The feeding tube extends, and the drone clings to Nicora's head and shoulders while it tries to get it into her mouth.

Nicora winces, knowing how bad things taste and tries to help 'guide' the tube with her lips and tongue. If she manages to get it in, she's going to try to align her head a bit better so the tube can go down her throat a bit so she doesn't have to taste it!

This is semi-effective. It does bypass her tongue.. but the drone starts humping Nicora's face in time to the one servicing her other end. It's tricky not to gag as a result.. and moving out of alignment would likely be painful too.

Nicora ... strains trying to keep herself up with the movement. "Idiot, idiot, idiot," she thinks each time the horrib finishes its thrusting. But ... at least she doesn't taste anything! All she has is periodic bouts of gag-fighting. That's appropriate for Yodhgorphat, in a way.

The face-drone at least knows it's not on stimulation duty, so does pull out after Nicora's distorted stomach is full. There's still a final spurt that gets all over her face however.

Not that you can tell her stomach is full. "Ugh," goes Nicora as she tries to shake the remainder off her face. She is used to the smell by now, but it is still rather ... gross. "At this rate I'm going to start growing bug shells again," she thinks. She would move her backside a bit, but that area the horribs secured very well; she has almost no hip movement at all.

She doesn't have to suffer the face-goop for very long at least. Otto arrives with various supplies (including a small bench). He has a soapy-wet rag that he uses to wipe Nicora's face clean with. "How are you today, High Priestess?" he asks.

"Fat, feeling unbelievably full, and hideous," Nicora tells the skreek. "I cannot see my belly well; how is it looking? How are my ... teats?"

"They look inflamed and.. large," Otto says, a bit reluctantly. "Nearly as big as your smaller chest ones," he explains. He also washes off those primary breasts while nudging the milk buckets around with his feet. His accuracy is better since he can sit down now, and he cleans and milks at the same time.

Which ... hurts. Even regular milking is painful these days. She winces a little, but otherwise does not complain. "How has the ... consistency of my milk been? Also, I would like you to massage my belly teats some too, please. They ache pretty badly and need some soothing. I am mildly concerned as I cannot examine them directly myself."

"It flows a little easier," Otto reports. Given the usual slimy nature of the stuff, that could be good. Once the milking is done, the rat scoots further along the bench, and tentatively touches the inflamed belly-teats - which hurts. The skin feels like it's chafed.

"Ow. Describe the skin to me, please," Nicora requests. "And rub some of my ... milk on it."

The milk helps a bit. "It looks very dry and thin like.. uh.. paper. Wet paper," the Skreek describes. There's some activity on the ground, as the drones begin to eat the drained lizard, with the on Nicora's back complaining, "Dud-a-Dud-a-Chick" at the others.

"Gently massage them please, using the milk to help with the dryness," Nicora requests in-between several deep breaths. "And tell me what you feel as you do so."

"Ugh," the Skreek comments as he works. Each squeeze feels like there's stuffing being shifted around to Nicora. "They don't feel good, High Priestess," Otto says.. then stops abruptly. "Green stuff came out the tip.. uh.. not milk. Blood?"

Nicora grits her teeth painfully as the Skreek gently squeezes. That feels ... awful to put it mildly. "It might be blood. Can you get a small sample for me to taste?" she requests. "Mother, what is wrong with the breast gifts you gave me?" she thinks.

A wet finger is brought up to Nicora's lips - but even without tasting it she can smell it. It's definitely her blood.

Her tongue goes momentarily numb.. then fuzzy? It makes her head swim a bit as well, but in a familiar, euphoric way. The blood has the happy-juice in it, perhaps a bit more concentrated that what ends up circulating normally.

After that, the flavor is.. stale. It's blood that's been pooling for awhile.

Nicora blinks repeatedly from that. "Am I producing this stuff naturally now?" she has to wonder. The teats are not connected to her womb, so it is hard to imagine how the larvae would be directly causing it. But then one did push something through it that one time. "Tickle one gently and see if it squirms," Nicora requests.

If Otto finds that request bizarre, he doesn't say so. And to be extra gentle, he uses his whiskers to do the tickling, so as not to cause any movement himself. "There is some movement," he reports. "Slight though, like.. ripples?"

"What is in there? Do I need to have the acolyte drain them?" Nicora wonders grimly. "Do they feel like they go deep into me, or does it feel whatever is within them is contained just within them?" she asks next. "Feel around the base, you may be able to tell."

There is some hissing from the drones as Otto probes around. The Queen is silent - but Nicora can't quite see her beyond a blob shape. "I can't tell my lady," Otto says. "The bases have widened.. like breasts instead of.. inflated sacks. The drones are not happy about me doing this.."

"Do not press too much then," Nicora suggests. To the drones, she says, "Calm down. I have to make sure I am healthy."

Otto doesn't keep it up, pulling away as the drones chant, "Chik-a-Chik! Chik-a-Chik!"

"Can you lift my regular breasts out of the way so I can see them?" Nicora requests of Otto. "Please?" The Eeee is worried they may be severely infected.

Moving daintily to avoid upsetting the drones any further, Otto lifts both right breasts out of the way so Nicora has a clearer view. The teats have certain spread at the their bases! Each is at least 3-inches across, and 4-inches long. The they get a little thicker midway before tapering back to 'normal' but still swollen. The tips are very dark green, while the rest appears bruise-purple. Despite the skin being stretched to near translucent, the 'cores' are dark.

Nicora tilts her head, trying to get a look if she can at the actual main milk duct on one of them; if she can even spot it. She's feeling ... well, it's that sinking sort of feeling Nicora often gets with Gorphat is either displeased, or very pleased, and about to do something horrible to her again. "They look horrible. I don't see infection, but those are not healthy." she thinks.

Healthy is always a relative term when dealing with Gorphat. After all, the teats shouldn't be there at all, much less producing slimy green milk - which was their healthy baseline. The tissue around the ducts looks swollen, and there certainly isn't any milk being produced.

Nicora tries to rock herself to get them to sway ... to try and judge their weight. She may not be able to move in the encasement, though.

The way they look so.. taut.. it isn't likely they'll move. Nicora will need to ask Otto to jiggle her belly - which could upset the drones again.

"They are slightly larger, yes, but still feel as they always have," Otto says, and massages them a bit as if to prove it.. or just as an excuse to fondle.

"Am I still pretty to you like this?" Nicora asks of the skreek. "I have body to further Gorphat's sacred hive."

"Uh.. pretty?" Otto asks, as if the thought never occurred to him. "You are impressive and powerful."

"Do you need release and wish to mate with me?" Nicora asks of the skreek as she hangs there; her distended gut aching and her teats hurting considerably now.

Almost as soon as she asks that, the drone on her back stops. She feels a squirt of something - a temporary plug probably - and then bug is off of her and moving to get its share of the lizard. "Oh.. uh.. I need to now, don't I?" Otto asks.. already pulling the bench back so he can stand on it to 'reach' properly. He feels a lot nicer than a drone, certainly, since he's warm and a good bit thicker.

Nicora grunts from the thick goo that just sealed her inside. And yes, she sighs when the skreek starts up on her. It does feel a lot better. For now, anyway; at some point Gorphat's blessing will make it burn and clench. At least that won't cause the horrib any problems but ... she'll be in a lot pain for a bit. "Ah ... thank you, Otto," the Eeee sighs softly. "Sorry, Mother Gorphat," she thinks, "Sometimes the urges get to be too much."

The larvae seem to recognize Otto. They really did like when it was him and Nikky stimulating them, after all, and so they seem more active this time as well.. and that means they are producing more happy-juice for Nicora as well. Without the monotonous motion of the drones, the euphoria is a bit more heightened.. along with arousal and the sensations that go with it. Otto compensates for Nicora's lack of motion by doing his best to change up angles and such, giving his own limited room to move due to the height of the bench and the height that Nicora is suspended at. Maybe it matters that he wants her to feel good.

In spite of herself and the horrors, Nicora lets out a soft sigh, a sign she feels some level of pleasure after hanging here for who knows how long with an aching belly, stretched disturbingly thin. Having other parts stretched right now, well, that feels so much better; but the larvae deep within her are helping with that. Her eyes droop mostly closed, her breathing increasing as the skreek does, and fingers and toes, even those wiggle and splay every so often. She's riding that lovely euphoric rush, in addition to the regular rush that comes with satisfying the 'need' that Gorphat inflicted upon her. So, for the moment the horrors she saw of her own body, those terrible distended belly teats ... that all gets forgotten. Right now all she wants is the skreek behind her, inside her, and when its time, gifting her with his warm release. It's a small island of comfort in an otherwise horrible situation.