CHAPTER 151: SPREADING THE SEED

The stone floor groaned beneath Allen’s feet as the hidden chamber yawned open like a mouth—humid air exhaling from within, thick with musk and something... older.

He stepped down, each footfall squelching as the floor gave slightly beneath him, as if the very temple itself had gone soft and wet in anticipation. Behind him followed a trail of cum-streaked, pleasure-drunk lizardfolk—priestesses with semen leaking down their thighs, guards with tongues still lolling, scholars covered in their own slick. And at the front of the procession, dragging himself with trembling limbs, was the former high priest, cum still leaking from his ruined ass.

The chamber pulsed with a low, wet heartbeat.

"Where the hell are we?" Allen muttered, eyes adjusting to the bioluminescent glow pulsing from the walls. They weren’t made of stone anymore—these walls breathed. Veins throbbed beneath the surface like glowing vines, dripping fluid onto the fleshy floor.

One of the priestesses gasped, her eyes wide.

"This is the Womb Below... legend said the gods sealed it off... said no man could survive entering it."

Allen glanced over his shoulder with a cocky smirk.

"Well I’m not just a man, am I?"

He stepped deeper.

The Relic waited at the chamber’s heart.

It was suspended in midair—a massive fleshy idol shaped like a pregnant, blindfolded lizard goddess, her arms bound above her head, her stomach swollen and covered in glowing runes. From her inner thighs hung twitching, pulsing tendrils, like tentacles waiting to be worshipped.

As Allen approached, the tendrils stirred.

The room moaned.

The priestesses collapsed to their knees, one after another, overcome with heat as the air became pure pheromone. One began fingering herself furiously, the sound of wet slapping echoing. Another began licking the floor, eyes rolled back, drooling.

Allen just stood before the idol, cock already twitching back to full.

"She wants you," one of the scholars gasped, her voice shaking. "She... she needs to be filled again."

The tendrils reached for Allen—but he caught one mid-air.

It twitched in his grip like a living cock, slick with a sweet-smelling fluid. He grinned.

"Alright then. Let’s see what happens."

He pulled the tendril toward his cock—SSHHLP—!!—and slid into it.

TIGHT. SUCKING. ALIVE.

"Fffuckkk—" Allen growled as the tendril squeezed around his shaft, the texture like a wet throat mixed with molten silk. The idol shuddered. Her bound form moaned silently, runes glowing brighter.

Then another tendril reached up—and pierced Allen’s chest.

"Gah—!!" he staggered—but didn’t pull back.

The pain flashed white-hot—then was replaced by something... else.

Power.

He saw visions behind his eyes—of past avatars, ancient rituals, a lineage of breeding gods erased from history. This wasn’t just a relic.

It was a womb-engine. A divine generator of life, sex, and unstoppable corruption.

And Allen was now its chosen cock.

The fusion began.

The tendril around his dick milked him like it was starving—GLRRRK—SLLK—GLLCHCH—!!—while more coiled around his limbs, holding him in place. One slithered up his spine and pressed against his neck—another wrapped around his balls, squeezing gently, rhythmically.

Cum began to flow—BLAT-BLATTT-BLAAATTT—!!

But instead of leaking out, the idol absorbed it.

The runes on her belly pulsed.

She began to grow.

Her stomach swelled further, like a pregnancy accelerated by divine cock. The moans grew louder—not just from her, but from every lizardfolk in the chamber. They dropped to the floor in waves, fingering themselves, crawling toward Allen like devotees to a living god.

One priestess threw herself onto his leg, grinding her soaked cunt against his calf.

"Breed me," she begged, drool hanging from her lips. "Breed us all... make us your temple..."

Allen pulled free of the tendrils with a loud PLORRRCH—!! and shoved the girl onto her back.

"You want the real god now?" he growled.

She nodded frantically.

Allen plunged into her with zero hesitation—SPLLLTCH—THRUMP—SLAM!!

"AHHHH—!!"

The other girls swarmed. Dozens now. All begging. Hands pulling at him, mouths open, tongues out. Their pussies dripped down their thighs, glowing slightly from the relic’s lingering influence.

Allen flipped another over. Slammed in—THWACK—THWACK—THWACK!!

One rode his face.

Another sucked his balls while fingering herself raw.

The temple throbbed. The floor squished. The idol’s belly reached critical mass.

Then—BOOM—!!!

A flash of light.

And from her womb, a golden pulse exploded outward—washing over the orgy like a wave of ecstasy.

Everyone came at once.

Screams of orgasm filled the air—wet, feral, divine.

Allen roared as he filled the girl beneath him, his cock twitching violently, cum spilling out from her in heavy globs. Another girl squirted so hard it hit the ceiling. A guard collapsed, convulsing as he came untouched.

The relic pulsed one final time.

Then went still.

And in the center of the idol’s swollen belly...

A heartbeat.

Allen stood, panting, drenched in sweat and cum, surrounded by twitching, whimpering bodies.

He looked down at the idol.

"I just knocked up a goddess..."

Behind him, a priestess stirred.

"What... what now...?"

Allen smirked.

"Now we spread this new religion."

The chamber was quiet now.

Well... quiet-ish. The sound of soft, wet panting still filled the air, mixed with the occasional satisfied whimper and the drip-drip-drip of thick fluids onto the altar floor. The scent of sex, sweat, and sanctified filth hung like incense. And in the middle of it all stood Allen—glowing faintly now, body still twitching with lingering divine energy, cum streaked across his abs like war paint.

The relic-idol’s swollen belly pulsed slowly behind him, a heartbeat echoing within her womb. Not just symbolic.

There was life inside her.

His seed had taken. His cock had awakened a goddess.

Allen cracked his neck and turned to the lizardfolk sprawled in worship before him.

Some were still collapsed in twitching bliss. Others had begun to crawl closer, smearing their faces with the slick mess leaking from his worshippers. But many—so many—were looking up at him with glazed-over eyes, trembling lips, and an expression that bordered on spiritual madness.

He raised his hand.

"Your gods are gone."

No one protested.

"You’ve been denied. Starved. Controlled."

The former high priest, still leaking, nodded weakly. "They told us that lust was sin... that pleasure was punishment..."

Allen stepped down off the altar, his cock still half-hard, bouncing slightly with each step.

"They lied. Lust is power. Pleasure is truth."

He grabbed one of the sobbing priestesses by her hair and forced her onto her knees.

"This is your new gospel."

And he thrust into her throat.

GLCKK—SLLURP—GLLLLRK—!!

The crowd watched with reverent awe as the girl gagged, choked, and moaned around him—her eyes rolling back as tears streamed down her cheeks. Allen held her there until her arms trembled, her throat convulsing from the pressure, then pulled back and sprayed a hot, steaming load across her face.

SPURT—SPURT—SPLATT—!!

He painted her cheeks, her tits, her tongue, and she let it happen with her mouth wide and grateful. She didn’t swallow. She wore it like warpaint.

Another priestess knelt beside her, eyes burning with need.

"Please... me next... I want to be baptized too..."

Allen turned to the crowd, dripping with sweat and seed and divinity.

"No more praying to empty idols. From now on, your faith lives in your womb. In your throat. In your ass."

He grinned.

"And I will fill all of it."

___

Later That Night...

The temple lay in ruins above—collapsed from the force of Allen’s blessing. The surface was a crater of moaning bodies, ritual symbols scrawled in cum and squirt across the stones. What had once been a holy site was now a sacred breeding ground.

And deep beneath, in the Womb Below, Allen stood before a mirror made of obsidian and still water.

The idol had gone dormant—still glowing, still pregnant—but satisfied. For now.

Allen stared at himself.

He looked... different.

His muscles were more defined, his veins glowing faintly gold. His eyes flickered with radiant heat, and his cock—oh, it throbbed with something more than lust now. It was like a living weapon. His seed had mutated. Empowered. He could feel it.

Behind him, the former high priest—naked, kneeling, cum still leaking from his rear—spoke in a hoarse whisper.

"She chose you. You’re not mortal anymore."

Allen didn’t smile. He didn’t need to.

"I know."

___

The Next Morning:

They left the temple like an army.

Naked. Marked. Devoted.

Dozens of lizardfolk, their scales glowing faintly from their exposure to Allen’s seed, walked in ranks down the jungle path. The priestesses walked with cum still drying on their thighs. The guards carried no weapons—only thick, hard cocks, swinging with pride. The scholars clutched sacred texts, rewritten with Allen’s teachings. The symbol of his cock had been painted on their foreheads.

At the front of the procession, Allen walked with a new robe—white and gold, made from the torn remains of the goddess’s old tapestries. His cock jutted forward through an open slit, veiny and radiant, still slick with the relic’s final blessing.

One of the guards approached, eyes wide.

"My lord," she whispered. "There’s another temple. Three days east. They’ve heard of what happened. They’ve sent word to resist you."

Allen stopped walking.

He smiled.

"Then we’ll go baptize them."