The hilichurls bride

Amber hung limp in the hilichurls’ grip, eyes completely vacant, mouth slack, a thin line of drool running down her chin. Every useful thought had been shocked out of her hours earlier; the repeated pulses through the slime-powered shaft had reduced her to a twitching, empty-eyed shell that no longer registered sound, touch, or the fact that she was being moved. Her swollen belly sloshed with the accumulated seed of the camp. Her ruined bunny suit hung in filthy scraps. She made no sound when they lifted her.

The largest mitachurl simply grabbed a fistful of her hair, dragged her across the dirt like the discarded toy she had become, and flung her out past the edge of the camp with a casual heave. Amber landed in a boneless heap among the roots and underbrush, still faintly twitching from residual current, completely unaware that she had been replaced. The path back to Mondstadt lay somewhere beyond her. She would not be walking it for a long time.

The camp’s full attention turned to the new offering.

Eula remained seated on the ridged shaft, conductive vines locking her thighs and waist in place, the electric slime core pulsing above her in irregular bursts. Each jolt ripped another broken cry from her throat and forced her cunt to clamp down hard around the thick intrusion. She did not fight the restraints. She only rolled her hips in small, eager circles between shocks, already leaking fresh juices down the wooden base, and kept the same soft, obedient smile on her face.

The first regular hilichurls closed in.

Two of them grabbed her open mouth at once, shoving their cocks past her lips from either side so that she had to stretch her jaw wide and take both heads at the same time. She sucked greedily, tongue working between them, muffled thanks vibrating around the shafts every time the slime core pulsed and made her body jerk. A third hilichurl climbed onto the platform, straddled her chest, and fucked her heavy tits while the vines held her upright. His pre-cum smeared across her collarbone and the crude fur straps of the bridal dress. When he finished, he painted her face and the two cocks still buried in her mouth, and Eula only swallowed what she could reach, licked the rest clean when ordered, and whispered another soft “thank you” between pulses.

The mitachurls came next.

One of the massive brutes stepped up behind her, gripped the wooden frame, and forced a second thick cock into her already-stuffed cunt alongside the ridged shaft. The stretch drew a long, shaky moan from Eula; her belly bulged visibly with the added girth. The electric jolts now traveled through both cocks, making the mitachurl grunt with pleasure while Eula’s eyes rolled back. He fucked her in heavy, punishing strokes that made the entire platform creak, flooding her with a massive load that overflowed around both shafts in thick white rivers. The moment he pulled free, another mitachurl took his place, and then another, until her womb was a sloshing, overfilled mess and her thighs were painted white down to the knees.

They rotated her off the device only long enough to use her other holes.

Eula was lifted, still trembling from the last shock, and bent over a crude stone altar. One giant hilichurl held her wrists above her head while a second forced his enormous cock into her ass, stretching the already-plugged hole until the toy was pushed deeper by the new intrusion. She pushed back onto it with eager, obedient rolls of her hips, moaning openly every time the thick length bottomed out. A third hilichurl fed his cock into her throat at the same time; she relaxed and took him to the root, tears of overstimulation running down her cheeks while she still managed soft, grateful sounds around the shaft. They used her in that position until both ends were overflowing, then flipped her onto her back on the dirt, folded her legs up to her chest, and double-stuffed her cunt again while a circle of smaller hilichurls took turns painting her tits, face, and open mouth.

[](https://im.ge/i/QMR14V9)
(artist: fyssok)

Throughout it all Eula never once resisted.

She presented when they turned her. She opened her mouth when a cock approached. She thanked every load in the same breathy, glassy-eyed voice, even when the words came out slurred and broken between electric aftershocks and the wet sounds of yet another hilichurl burying himself to the hilt. Her cock-hunger showed in the way her hips kept moving, the way her tongue reached for every new shaft, the way her cunt clenched and milked whatever was inside her—but it never once overrode the core obedience. She was here to replace Amber. She would stay and serve until they grew bored.

Hours blurred.

They returned her to the slime-powered shaft whenever they wanted the entertainment of watching her body seize and cry out. They took her off it to breed her against trees, over cook-fire stones, in the dirt, held aloft between two giants like a living toy. They made her crawl from one group to the next on hands and knees, belly dragging and leaking, only to be lifted and impaled again the moment she reached them. Load after load was pumped into her womb, her ass, her throat. Her bridal furs hung in filthy, cum-soaked tatters. Her blue hair was a tangled mess. Her eyes stayed soft and vacant with pleasure, the same empty, devoted expression she had worn under Jean’s desk and on the festival frame.

Night fell over the Whispering Woods.

The camp showed no sign of growing tired of their new bride.

Eula, still impaled, still twitching with every pulse of the electric core, still whispering soft thanks whenever another hilichurl stepped up to use her, remained exactly where she had been placed—willing, eager, and obedient to the last order she had been given.

The fires burned low.The growls and wet sounds continued long into the dark.