Yes, but there are some unexpected changes

You **** yourself to stand and you wipe the thickest puddles of wug cum from your face. The musk of it is nearly overpowering and you feel an intense desire to drop back to your knees and beg for more. But you resist. The wug chief cocks his head and blinking membranes sweep over his inhuman eyes.

"My beautiful mate, sister of the goddess, has my seed taken root?" he asks.

You reach between your thighs and cup your hand against your sex. A great quantity of wug cum is still dripping from inside you. The white slime fills your palm and overflows it.

"How will I know?" you ask the chieftain.

A great cheer goes up from the wugs. Brigette looks at you with confusion.

"Sabine," she says, "how did you do that?"

"Do what?" You look at her with confusion.

"You made the croaking sound they make. You spoke their language."

"Tokonga!" the Wugs begin to chant.

The chieftian steps beside you and raises his trident.

"All hail Tokonga and Sabine, she-who-speaks." He turns to you, his cold hand caressing your belly. "May many wuglings fill your womb. May you cary a blessed clutch for the tribe."

Does the fact that you can understand their language mean you are truly impregnated with their fishman seed? The thought does not fill you with the horror you thought it would. In fact, looking at the stooped chieftain, your mind returns to the pleasure of the rutting and how you might extract more of his silky seed. You shake off what must be some sort of musky spell placed over your mind.

"Tokonga is pleased!" you declare, using their language without consciously trying. "But we are on a quest. We need your help."

"Of course," says the chieftain. "Anything the goddess asks. Our lives belong to her. But she must allow us to prepare a feast."

Brigette lets out a squeal as the wugs lift her up onto their shoulders and begin to carry her up and into their village. The chieftain takes your hand.

"Would you like to see my nest, she-who-speaks? I have a pool of cool water where you could settle your clutch if you wish to stay."

"My c-clutch?" He begins to lead you towards a hut away from the gathered tribe.

"Yes, you should release your eggs tonight. But we could make many more. Your eggs are surely blessed, being of the goddess." He gropes your breasts and you let out a surprised cry of pleasure as milk arcs from each of your nipples. "I will be happy to suck your milk, she-who-speaks. And rut with your warm cove until the festivities begin."

Your body begs for you to go with the chieftain. You know what pleasure he can give you. But in the distance, amid the loud chanting, you are fairly certain you can hear Brigette calling out for help.