Wait and see what happens tomorrow

You lapse into a restless sleep and awaken the next morning to a ladel being held to your mouth. The wugs are feeding the women kept in stockades with ladels full of the creamy liquid that can only be the milk from the breasts of the largest ladies. The milk is sweetened and kept hot int he cauldron so that it nearly scalds your throat as you drink. Milk pours down your chin and around the corners of your mouth. You don't care that it is drawn from a human's breasts, you only know your thirst and hunger.

You look around and see the other women are being served similar cups of the liquid. Some are crying or otherwise distraught, others seem to react almost like animals, eagerly stretching out to drink from the offered ladels.

Soon after the feeder wugs have left a group of wugs enters. These are different and dressed in ceremoinal garb and daubed with red paint. They carry a strange sack that is dripping with liquid and they gather behind a young brunette girl with a shapely body. She is cleaner than most and you would guess has not been here very long. She can't see what is happening behind her, but reacts with fear when one of the wugs touches her plump ass.

"No, gods, no!" she cries. "Please! Let me go! Please! No! Not that! I can't do that!"

She continues to cry and plead, but the wugs ignore her. They heft the bag just below her ass and the wug with the largest headpiece reaches down into it and lifts out a dripping, slimy glob of black marbles.

"Oh gods," you whisper, realizing what is happening.

The wug in charge thrusts the slippery eggs into the brunette's pussy without warning. It reaches into the bag for more, stuffing her full of the ugly, black caviar. The woman finally ceases her hysterical screaming and hangs limp in the stockade as the wugs finish packing her pussy with the eggs. The ceremonial troop departs and two wugs enter. One has a head decorated with feathers and blue paint, suggesting it is a female. The other is painted with red and wears only a loincloth.

The female strokes the male and they step behind the brunette. The male drags aside the loincloth and reveals the pale green length of its prick. The female wraps her webbed hand around the male's cock and guides it into the brunette's up-turned cunt. She grunts in surprise but otherwise does not react as the male wug thrusts away at her. It moves faster and faster, working its hips and feeding the entire length of its cock into the brunette. Finally it croaks and thrusts deep into her and stays there. It strokes in and out a few more times, slowly, and then withdraws its cock from her pussy.

Creamy yellow liquid bubbles out of her swollen sex and drips onto the floor. The female wug reaches down and fingers the brunette's well-fucked hole, though the female's intent seems to be just to ensure her mate's filthy load stays in the human's pussy. When the female wug is satisfied the pair of wugs exit from the chamber.

"It will only take a day or two," says the woman beside you, a filthy and fat older woman with drooping breasts hooked into the clamps and tubes. "They'll bring in the ramp in the morning tomorrow. They'll start hatching by night. They breed us often. We're just a warm place for their eggs and milk cows to them. When our milk runs dry..."

She gestures with her head to an empty stockade, "...we're food for the tribe. They have a feast on those days."

"How long have you been here?" you ask.

"Days," she says. "Weeks. Months. I don't know anymore. I do know you're next. That girl they just fertilized was brought in right before you. If I were you I'd make my peace with life and just accept it. If you're obedient they'll give you more sweetmilk and breed you gently. There's no escaping."

The tubes attached to the woman's nipples gurgle and sway and her breasts jiggle. She turns away from you and stares at the cauldron as her milk drips out from the tubes.

The woman is right about one thing: you need to make your peace or escape, because being bred is probably going to break your will.