Zenyatta + Mondatta + Genji – Zenyatta unwittingly finds himself in midst of a dragon worshiping cult. Drugged and helpless he is to deliver their God’s eggs.

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Zenyatta feels like he’s in a dream – though he can’t make his mind up whether it is a good one or a bad one. He is woozy, can’t quite keep his eyes open, his body feeling feverish and… full.

Like he is stuffed with cotton from the inside out. His shoulders ache, but he can’t roll them to alleviate the pain.

“Calm,” a voice murmurs behind him, and a body presses against his back. He wants to ask ‘what?’ but he only groans long and drawn out. He can’t remember what happened to him. Only that he’d been celebrating with these people; eating and dancing and drinking whenever one of the smiling faces presented him with a cup of fruity, cool liquid.

“Don’t be afraid,” the smooth voice tells him, soothing, shushing Zenyatta’s faint thrashing with big, dry hands that he uses to pet up and down his sides and then across his belly which feels especially full and hot.

When Zenyatta’s head lolls forward, he makes a sound of distress. His belly is hugely distended and round, firm like a pregnant woman’s stomach. Before him, a sea of people that he hadn’t noticed starts shifting and murmuring. He can feel their excitement. Can almost taste it on his tongue.

The man behind him hugs him gently. “No harm will come to you. You are very precious to us – you bear our God’s children, after all.”

Zenyatta groans. With the pressure across his belly from the hug, he is suddenly aware of how desperately he has to expel whatever they pushed into him. He stares at the sea of faces pointed in his direction and squirms, weak as a kitten – and then he sees something move even farther behind the onlookers. A huge, serpent-like shape shifting and undulating, luminous green eyes watching him…

And as the person at his back starts to lower him down, his bindings giving and allowing for the descent until he is perched just-so on his knees, snippets of memories – or a wild, chaotic dream – come back to him. A huge creature cradling him with short, strong legs against a smooth, scaled belly. A long serpent-tongue tickling across his pate as the slippery, long cock of the beast slips out and drags along his belly.

Being filled and filled and filled as he weakly comes again and again and again until he passes out…

Zenyatta cries out when the first thing inside him shifts down into his passage. His brain is still muddled with whatever they used to drug him with, the sea of faces swimming in front of his eyes as he helplessly follows his body’s imperative and starts to bear down.

“P-Please,” he whispers weak, chest heaving, cheeks burning with shame. “N-No…”

“All is well,” the voice at his back whispers soothingly. “You do wonderfully. You are a perfect mate for our God. Are you not proud?”

Zenyatta throws his head back with another hoarse cry as the widest part comes and goes, the round object slipping out of his confused, overheated body. He can’t hear it hit the ground. The man behind him must have caught it beforehand, standing and lifting the object in his hands high above for everyone to see.

Ecstatic murmuring greets the sight but is overshadowed by the low rumbling from the back. A sound like rolling thunder as the shadowed creature moves more agitatedly. Zenyatta has the distinct feeling it is pleased.

He has a short glimpse of the object in the tall man’s hands, body going hot and cold as he recognizes a large, faintly green egg – and then his belly contracts in pain, sweat breaking out all over his body as he follows along and bears down.

The man hastily puts the egg into a softly cushioned basket to the side, then kneels back behind Zenyatta’s weakly struggling form.

“Perfect.”