Try to get some answers from the wug

Brigette's concern that you may stumble upon a larger group of wugs or even their settlement rings true. You don't know much of wug tactics, but small hunting parties of humans often send out scouts. If the wugs are as intelligent as you have read, they might well do the same. You quickly search the edge of the lagoon and scoop up a jagged rock. You hand it to Brigette and she looks at the stone with confusion.

"I am going to find something to bind this creature. If it begins to stir, you smash its head. Can you do this, sister?"

Brigitte looks as if she is going to say no. She hesitates, purses her lips, and slowly nods. Good. She understands the danger you are both in now. You creep away from her and into the foliage. You find creeper vines climbing the trunk of a saltwater mangrove in a marsh near the lagoon. The vine is rough in your hands and very tough, but brittle enough to tear loose with a sharp jerk of both hands. The loop of vine drips sap down your back and slaps against your jiggling breasts as you run it back to the lagoon. Brigette, holding the rock raise above her head, is obviously relieved to see you return.

You roll the wug onto his back, noticing the smoothness of his flesh, except around his joints where tiny scales form subtle patterns of iridescence. You drop your knee in the wug's back and bind his wrists and ankles tightly. You wind the rope around his neck to serve as a crude **** collar. If the wug does not offer you information, silencing him and even ending his life will be made easier.

"His eyes," whispers Brigette, pointing to wug.

His head is turned to the side and his eyelid is slowly opening, exposing the milky nictitating membrane beneath. You stand up and wind the vine around your forum and wrist. You yank it, pulling his head up and causing him to awaken. Before he can move, you kick him onto his back and plant your foot on his chest. You take a deep breath and lean over the wug, trying to look as tough as possible. The position dangles your newly swollen breasts awkwardly, reminding you of how much your body has changed. No time to worry about that now.

"If you understand me, speak, or I will end your life now." Your voice is low and threatening. "There will be no other warning."

"Under-stand," croaks the wug.

"Good. Now understand this: if you try to call out to anyone, if you try to break free, my friend here will smash your head."

"That's right," says Brigette, brandishing the rock.

The wug's inhuman gaze flicks from you to Brigette. His eyes widen. His fanged mouth hangs open. It might normally be difficult to judge the expression of a six foot tall fish man, but you are pretty certain the wug is surprised.

"Tokonga!" he warbles. "Tokonga!"

He rocks as if he is trying to get up and you stomp him flat on the ground with your foot.

"What are you saying?"

"She goddess, Tokonga! The green mother who stands by the water. And you are her sister."

It's your turn to be surprised. Brigette looks at you with confusion. Her plump nipples jut from her heaving breasts and you notice drops of white beginning to bead at her tender flesh. As she leans forward a bit, her hair spilling over her shoulders, two droplets of her milk drop from her breasts and patter onto the snout of the wug. His tongue curls from inside his mouth and he tastes the liquid. His body shudders and you notice a pink, wedge-shaped cock begin to slide out from his smooth abdomen.

"Y-your bosom, it weeps the sweet water! Just as prophecy say. She will tame mangroves, she will make the flowers bloom. You are real, Tokonga!" He looks at you, his bulbous eyes quivering with emotion. His voice becoming louder and more excited. "Please, release me! I take you to village! We have feast for Tokonga! We honor you and serve you!"

"He thinks I'm a god?" scoffs Brigette.

Looking at those swaying, luscious breasts, dripping with the sweet nectar of her bosom, you think the wug may be onto something. Maybe she isn't a goddess in the same sense as the burning rose, but maybe she is something much more than human. Something much closer to perfection.

"Sister, why are you looking at me like that?" asks Brigette.

A plan is forming. A plan beyond your immediate desire to wrap your lips around Brigette's straining nipple and suck.