The Dark One's minions attack

A wug bursts through the door of the barn. With him comes a blast of heat like a furnace and hellish red light. You have a vision, a flash of fire and steam as the very swamp burns, and mad, otherworldly laughter rises over it in exultation of destruction. Then the door is closed and darkness returns to the barn. But your illusion is shattered. It could only be one thing. The minions of the Dark One have found you. You buck and struggle in your bindings but they are too strong. You stop, exhausted, but find yourself now listening. The wugs who so previously fucked you are now croaking frantically to the newcomer and he back. You can’t understand their meaning but you again begin to wriggle in your bindings as the wugs break apart and, to your amazement, begin unfastening the stocks which hold the women in place. You watch, amazed. Ah, of course. Your masters are saving their property. What kind masters they are.

With a clink the lock is removed and your stock raised. You fall to your knees, your tits so heavy. How could you stand? But you must. The wugs frantically prod and cajole the women into motion. Some, notably the truly fat ones clearly here for a long time, are so stupid from the milking and breeding they can do no more than lie listlessly on the floor, eyes vacant and lost. Your masters are quick to leave them. Some dim conception of this works into your mind. If you don’t move, you will be left.

You groan and with effort try to follow. You had only just arrived, and as such are in the best position compared to the others, but your time in the stocks and being bred has not left you unscathed. Your legs wobble from the **** of your cunt and your milk heavy tits sag and pull you to the ground. Your egg filled belly sways gravidly beneath you. On your hands and knees you crawl after the wugs as they gather their charges near a back door you had not seen before. The amphibian creatures look about to ensure they have all they can, then open the doors and hustle you into the swamp.

Even as you are, you can recognize hell.

Fire races among the swamp and smoke turns the sky black. Croaking screams from wugs fills the air and their dashing shadows are stark against the flaming backdrop. Huts and yurts burn like torches and your skin dries in an instant in the unbearable heat. You stare, dumb, as if the barn had been transported to another realm.

And in this realm, horror laughs.

Your masters smack your shapely ass to hurry you on. You stumble into the low water of the swamp, hidden by high reeds along with the rest of the women the wugs managed to evacuate. The mud is slimy and the water chill against your bare skin. You shiver, and the discomfort and cold slowly begins to help clear your head. You blink groggily, your abused pussy soothed by the cool water and ripe tits bobbing weightlessly against your chest. You look around with a sense of returning comprehension. It’s only you and another girl with four wugs. The rest must have split up to increase the chance for escape. A whole tribe could be spawned from a single cow.

You shake your head at these strange thoughts. The water is up to your chin and save the crackle of flame and faint dribble of water as your group moves, nothing can be heard.

It comes to you like a blow. You could escape now. The wugs wouldn’t dare give chase and betray themselves. But if you do, you’d never be milked again. You’d leave the safety of the wugs, maybe even be caught by the minion of the dark lord. Worse yet, you don’t even know what has happened to the stone. You’d have to go back. The thought sends a chill coursing down your spine. Lust, fear, courage and desire for freedom war within you even as you wade further down the waters, those with you oblivious to your inner struggle.

Then, there is a sudden, violent hiss of water turned to steam. Everyone stops.