Morgana: The Mother Of All

In the end, Yagi was satisfied only after I came inside her mouth more than seven times while another vine fucked her pussy at the same time.

Yagi was now sleeping peacefully in my arms, her swollen belly doubled in size, her small body glistening with our fluids, her emerald hair tangled and messy.

She was a picture of innocent, well-fucked exhaustion, her flower-pussy still gaping slightly, leaking a slow, steady trickle of my cum and her nectar.

And I, well, I was in a state of blissful, divine satisfaction, my Dryad form receding, my body returning to its pale normalcy.

I let her rest and teleported outside, instructing my children to prepare a feast.

I didn't have to tell them; they had already begun preparing. I just gave them more ingredients for them to work with.

After that, I teleported to the Nightmare Tower, wanting to check on a few things.

"Hmm?" The moment I appeared in the administrator's room, I spotted a spooky structure in the far back.

A well. A stone well. But not a normal one. This well was made of a black, gnarled stone, and it exuded an aura of pure despair and hopelessness.

"Sigh... let me guess, I'll hear a woman's cry from it?" I said, my arms crossed. "Or pale hands will grab me the moment I peer down?"

I recalled the movies from my old world and having my succubus wife prank me like... a million times with spooky things.

I approached the well, expecting something to happen, but nothing did.

I peered down.

Yup, as I expected.

A woman, a young woman, was floating at the bottom of the well, staring at me with her dead, hollow eyes.

She wore a white tattered dress, her hair was long and black, covering most of her face, her skin was pale as snow, and for some reason, she was drowning.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my tone flat, unimpressed, staring down at my undead emo daughter, Lament.

"Blup! Blup!" she let out a few bubbles as she spoke. "I am drowning."

"No shit, Sherlock," I deadpanned. "You're in a well. That's usually what happens. Also, how are you talking underwater?"

"Blup! Blup!" she let out a few more bubbles as she tried to explain.

"Is this one of your suicide attempts?" I asked, my patience wearing thin. "Because if it is, you're doing it wrong. You're undead, you can't die."

"Blub! Blub!" she let out more bubbles, her expression unchanging.

"You know what? Never mind." I sighed, shaking my head. "If you want to kill yourself, be my guest. I'll just throw those demon and bug corpses away—"

SPLASH!

Without any warning, Lament shot out of the well like a rocket, black oily water cascading off her. Her soaked dress clung to her slender frame, hair plastered to her face, hollow eyes now locked onto me with sudden intensity.

"Demons... and... bugs?" she said, her voice a monotone whisper, devoid of any emotion.

"I was saying that you're a weirdo," I replied, my tone equally flat, "and that you need to find a better hobby. Maybe try knitting? I heard it's very therapeutic... Oh, I forgot, you're a flesh doctor!"

"Give... them... to... me." Lament's gaze locked into mine.

"Sure," I said casually. "Knock yourself out. They're in the storage room. Don't make a mess." I paused, then smirked. "Actually, you can make a mess. Consider it a reward for a job well done."

By "job well done," I meant turning that arrogant male elf into a majestic stag with her flesh-crafting skills.

"Thank... you... Mother." Lament said, her lips curving into a faint, almost imperceptible smile before she turned and walked away, leaving a trail of black water on the floor.

"Sigh... too much negativity," I murmured to myself, watching her go.

Part of me was tempted to visit her lab and see what fresh abominations she was stitching together. Last I heard from Lilis, she had tried sewing two goblins and a gnoll into something called "Mr. Floppy." The result hadn't satisfied her, so she burned it alive and started over.

"I'll just focus on my breeding and leave the dark arts to her," I decided. "She's my good girl, after all."

Leaving the admin room, I descended to one of the lower floors where I kept my captured elves. Forty-one of them now, after using the male one to trick both the Elf Queen and the Demon God.

I saw them the moment I stepped into the dark, dungeon-like room.

The prisoners simply stood there, unresponsive. Their eyes were blank, their faces expressionless. They were frozen in time thanks to the unlimited mana inside the Nightmare Tower.

"Alright... let's change the room into something more... suitable for breeding."

I raised my hands, and with my authority as the Administrator, the room began to transform.

The room shuddered and twisted under my command, the cold stone walls bubbling like boiling flesh, veins of pinkish slime crawling across the floor and ceiling. The air grew thick, humid, scented with sweet musk and fertile earth. The frozen elves didn't even twitch—their blank stares fixed ahead, perfect little breeding dolls waiting for my touch.

But stone and chains? Nah, too boring. I needed something... fun.

With a wicked grin, I poured more power into the transformation.

The room pulsed and writhed like a living thing, the stone melting away into quivering walls of slick, pink flesh. Thick tentacles sprouted from every surface—coiling, throbbing appendages veined with glowing nectar, dripping with lubricant that smelled like ripe peaches and raw desire.

Vines thicker than my thigh slithered across the floor, tipped with bulbous, flared cocks that twitched eagerly, while smaller tendrils hung from the ceiling like eager tongues, ready to lap and tease. The air hummed with a low, seductive throb, the very atmosphere saturated with aphrodisiacs.

"Much better," I snapped my fingers, and their clothes dissolved into mist—gone in an instant. Forty-one elven bodies, male, futa, and female alike, all pale-skinned beauties with pointed ears and flowing hair in silvers, golds, and midnight blues. Their blank eyes stared forward, pert breasts heaving gently with enchanted breath, cocks half-hard and pussies glistening faintly from the room's humid influence.

No resistance, no protests. Just dolls for my amusement.

"Time to make some babies," I murmured, a grin splitting my face as I commanded the tentacles to life.

They swarmed like a pink tide, wrapping around limbs, lifting bodies, spreading them wide, and locking them into the fleshy wall.

No penetration yet. I still need to make one 'little' adjustment.

"More wombs for more babies," I mused with a smirk.

And so I changed their bodies, giving them as much as they could handle.

The transformation was... artistic.

Each elf, male, futa, or female, was reshaped to perfection.

Five wombs are basic for everyone: two in the breasts, one in the ass, and one behind the original womb for the futas and females. As for men, I gave them functional wombs and pussies.

So five horny wombs for each to be bred.

I wasn't done.

For the futas and males, their cocks grew thicker, longer, and their balls larger, heavier, the size of ripe melons. For experimental purposes, I created one small womb in each testicle, with the birth canal located at the base of the cock.

As for the females, I kept their womb count at five for now, and based on the result of the experimental futa and male cock births, I might add more.

My own futa-cock throbbed at the sight. A perfect breeding farm, ready for planting.

"Time to serve your purpose, my pretties," I purred, snapping my fingers again.

The blankness in their eyes shimmered and dissolved. For a split second, awareness returned—confusion, fear, recognition. They saw the writhing tentacles, saw themselves trapped, bound, and altered in the fleshy, womb-filled walls.

Then, just as quickly, it was wiped away. Replaced with pure terror.

"AAAAHHHH!"

"Aaaah!"

"HMMM!"

All they could do was scream in terror as the tentacles began their work. I removed the ability to talk from them, leaving only lovely screams and moans.

The room descended into a symphony of wet squelches, muffled screams, and the rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh.

Tentacle-cocks, thick and veiny, plunged into their mouths, stretching their jaws wide, bulging their throats. They struggled, bodies bucking, but the fleshy bindings held them fast. Their eyes watered, tears mixing with the drool and pre-cum that coated their faces.

Nipples got their own special treatment. Tendrils, thin as needles, latched onto their now-swollen breasts, piercing the sensitive skin with a sharp, piercing pain.

Pussies and asses were given no mercy. They were the main courses. Massive vine-cocks, ribbed and pulsating, aligned with their slick folds and puckered holes, teasing the entrances with hot, dripping tips before slamming home in one brutal thrust. Elves arched, bodies convulsing as they were filled to bursting—pussies stretched obscenely around girths thicker than fists, asses gaping wide to accommodate the relentless pounding. The nectar-lube made every slide smooth and merciless, churning their insides into frothy messes.

But the real showstoppers?

Those experimental cock-wombs for the males and futas. Smaller tendrils, precise and probing, wormed into the slits at the base of their swollen shafts, breaching the new canals hidden there. Their melon-sized balls churned visibly, veins bulging as the tendrils pumped seed straight into those testicular wombs, forcing the elves' own cocks to twitch and spurt uselessly, painting their bellies with ropes of their modified cum.

"Ahhh~... this is so fucking hot~," I purred, my futa-cock in hand, stroking it slowly as I watched the scene unfold. "But... it's missing something."

Right! Me!

As the goddess of breeding, it would be an insult if I didn't partake in this feast.

With a simple thought, a young female high elf dropped from her bindings. She fell into my arms with a soft thud.

She was the sister of that arrogant elf, and right now she was going to have the honor of being bred by the goddess herself.

"Time for Mommy to get her hands dirty... Hehehe~"

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