The human infested with worms.

Despite her feeble struggles, Althea’s wrist remained firmly in the orc’s grasp. Despite her capture, however, it seemed to be waiting for something. No life lingered behind its milky, yellow eyes, and its tusked jaw hung slack. Each jerk and thrash from the priestess only caused the numerous blisters to wobble in a sickening, fluid undulation. Althea slammed the fist of her unrestrained arm against the orc’s domed gut, only succeeding in rupturing one of the larger translucent cysts with a wet pop! The priestess stifled a gag as the warm, oily secretions coated her clenched fist. It stank of putrid fish, and she wiped the fluid from her arm in a panic.

Only then did the orc release her. Feeling hope well in her chest, she kicked her feet out, scrambling backwards from the towering, lumpy undead… and right into the front of the worm-filled zombie. He gave her another groan, and Althea turned just in time for the zombie to catch a fistful of her golden locks, now stained with the foul slime that coated the pit floor. “Gah! Let me go, you fiend!” Althea shouted, swiping at the zombie’s bony limb. It held fast, and that’s when she saw it in the dim light. Something stirred beneath the human’s trousers. Surely it couldn’t be his cock, he was dead. Something serpentine pressed against the tattered, bloodstained fabric before at last bursting free.

Coated in a thick, black, tarry ichor hung a milky white, two-foot-long worm as thick as the acolyte’s wrist. It slowly raised its head and bobbed about, only inches from her face. Althea watched in horror as the very tip opened up like a fleshy flower; more of the black ichor dribbled from the tip, but she could also see several dozen pink beads the size of her thumbnail plop out onto the sticky floor. Were those eggs?

Althea considered her position for a moment but immediately realized what the wretched things had planned for her. Alas, opening her mouth to scream was a foolish idea. No sooner than the first shrill cry rang out, the zombie thrust its moldy, rotting hips forward, spearing the fat, white worm between the acolyte’s lips. It tasted worse than it looked, coating the girl’s tongue in the cold, oily, and awfully bitter ichor. Through muffled cries, Althea prayed silently to her goddess for salvation.

In and out, the zombie thrust its parasitic cock in a deliberate, sawing motion. Althea gagged as the worm was buried up to the hilt, forcing her nose against the undead’s slimy, rotting crotch. THUMP THUMP THUMP! Continuing the rapacious face-fucking caused a number of smaller worms to fall from their host’s rotting flesh and sprinkle the acolyte’s hair and shoulders. She could feel them crawling along her body, seeking the warmth of her nubile flesh. Foul, black streaks lay in the wake of the small worms, staining her robes with more of the foul serum as they slowly marched toward the collar of her vestments.

With one final, hilting thrust, the zombie groaned again, and Althea felt the worm bulge in her mouth before spurting a fountain of the bitter, black ooze down her throat. The sensation of the soft, beady eggs rolling down the back of her tongue brought another gag, and despite her efforts to comply with her body’s instinct, she could not purge the vile stuff from her throat. GLULK GLULK GLURGHL! Althea twisted and thrashed, but the zombie’s deathly grip held fast, ensuring not a single egg escaped its nesting place in the depths of her stomach. Each load poured down her throat like lumpy pancake batter, rife with the putrid, oily taste. A particularly heavy splash of the ichor erupted from her nostrils, filling her nose with the dark, coagulated cum.

Only after the last spasm wracked the zombie’s body, did Althea feel the undead fingers loosen. As the spent corpse collapsed in a heap, she stumbled back on her rear, propping herself up with her hands behind her. The priestess panted heavily, **** for air, despite its foul, musky stench. A strand of the black ichor dangled from the corner of her trembling lips before adding to the dark stains at the front of her soiled vestments. Despite Althea’s momentary respite, she shuddered at the sensation of the small worms slipping beneath the fabric of her robes. They inched down her back and burrowed between her modest cleavage, wriggling into any pocket of warmth they could find. Despite the disgusting implication of being covered in worms, Althea scarcely had the energy to stay upright after the vigorous oral ****.