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The eggs had grown heavy inside Yuri's womb, each one pulsing with life, until the day came when her body could no longer contain them. The birth was a violent, wet explosion of infant tentacles—cold ones and warm ones, each no larger than her forearm, writhing and mewling as they pushed through her stretched cervix. The warm beast held her through the agony, its thick members sliding into her mouth to keep her quiet, while the cold beast licked the sweat from her forehead with an icy tongue. By the time the last infant emerged, Yuri was a trembling mess, her pussy gaping and leaking a thick mixture of birth fluids and afterbirth. The beasts fed her directly, pumping a warm, nutritional cum down her throat until her strength returned. Her belly was flat again and they shoot healing cum inside her to heal her, but the emptiness inside her felt wrong—she needed to be filled, and soon.