PATREON: https://www.patreon.com/LittleRover
DISCORD: https://discord.gg/landofchiral

------------

RESULT: DO Try to leave the womb with your friends now safe.
POLL: https://www.supersurvey.com/poll4401638x4FCC4c3e-138
I do encourage you to put "Other" suggestions, they will often affect future choices even if I don't use them for the actual result.

The swaying of the womb teases you, a desire to rest definitely tickling your mind but with your friends safe you consider now the outside.  It’s dark, hard to see, but the swinging arms of Iron Grip puts you at ease.  Perhaps now would be the time to turn around and push outwards.

Deep within, you feel your body tugging and teasing at the two kobolds, the presence of Grey Fox Friend tickling the inside of your plugged womb.  The Ovary-Kobolds are safe in position, but somewhat noticeable on your flanks.  They don’t seem to be moving much and there is no real sensitivity to the flesh here, so you expect you could happily keep them stored indefinitely - or even deeper.

Your attention is again taken by the outside when a golden ambience starts entering and Iron Grip doesn’t stop moving.  Now a little more eager to slide out, you twist and angle yourself downwards, feeling around for a sphincter and discovering a semi-porous wall which can be pushed through like a strange firm membrane.  It doesn’t require too much work to get through - but the birth canal is tight.

Nuzzling your head into the hole, pushing and shoving, Iron Grip comes to a stop and leans forward, raising her tail and spreading her legs a little to open the way more.  It’s still rather difficult to slip through, your nose popping out into fresh air for the first time in a while, a burst of slimy wetness erupting between her legs alongside the rest of your head.  The strange sensation that you are quite a bit bigger on the outside of her than the inside.

It takes only a few moments for your eyes to adjust and settle on the titanic figure before you.  The familiar appearance of the great dragon on the sea of gold fills you with awe.  It’s difficult to really tell how huge it is from here - but you can smell a masculine scent lingering over the treasure.  A familiar one.  A fatherly one.  He looks directly at you.  Each claw nail a mountain, his head high enough clouds would have to part around his horns.  You feel utterly tiny.

Yet compelled - as much by a deeper devotion as curiosity - to approach.  The gentle clenching of Iron Grip’s vulva the only thing that makes you think twice.

Posted using PostyBirb

Please login to post a comment.

No comments yet, make a comment please