in a dungeon

Gradually, you awoke to a thin layer of dust settled on the chilled surface of your pale, bare skin. How much time had passed was unkown to you. The air was thick and damp, and a musty aroma explored the sorrounding darkness. You could feel that your arms had been restrained tightly together above your head and that you hung from the ceiling by them - your full belly causing you some discomfort as it's weight strained the bindings. Your breasts seemed heavier, too, as though they had adapted to your newly pregnant state - but you were doubtful that their contents would be of any use. Your lower body remained free, yet your feet could not reach the floor, perhaps due to your little frame, or by intention.

The thick web had been removed from your mouth, but your ass remained sealed by it's sticky grip. A quiet whimpering echoed through the blackness, it must've been one of the other girls from the cave, you thought, but you didn't dare make a sound. A warm light began to illuminate your sorroundings, followed by a pair of approaching footsteps and a conversation you could just barely make out;

"Orders are to capture whatever creatures come out of them as 'prisoners of war'. As for the girls, once the prettiest ones have tightened back up, they'll go to the nobles who have requested slaves for... you know, and the duller ones will go into **** labour. We need more builders on the walls, after all. The Undyr are only a few days march away, now."

Observing your sorroundings, you noticed that your cell was huge, there must've been another dozen swollen-stomached human and elf girls hanging by their own wrists from the ceiling. Many were seemingly ****, others frantically trying to escape their **** position. Two men, the source of the footsteps you had assumed, entered the room, eyeing each of the girls up and down. They wore chainmail from head to toe, with thin leather and a tabard resting on top. Each stood at around six feet tall, but in the limited light, you couldn't make out much else.