Delicacy, Part 6 - Female Version (Patreon)

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Summary: After being abducted by aliens, Wendy, who is pregnant with multiples, is  fattened relentlessly, to be served as a delicacy at an upcoming holiday feast for alien royalty. Unfortunately the heavily pregnant Wendy goes into labor a week before the feast, and the babies want out. Knowing  that the moment she gives birth, she will be of no value to the alien captors, Wendy struggles to contain the children, all while plotting an  (increasingly hopeless) escape. Contains: Female: belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, and more.

Previous Chapter 

-

That night, Wendy went in and out of consciousness in a restive sleep. At times, through her bleary eyes, she could see Sree and Frisk huddled together, whispering to each other through the darkness. Then she would fall asleep again. By morning, Frisk and Sree were back in their usual corners of the room, not looking at each other or at Wendy. She knew they were plotting escape, yet Wendy detected a sense of secrecy and it unnerved her. Were they excluding her?

Then again, Wendy was tired. Her companions knew as much. They were letting her rest and she was getting paranoid. Frisk and Sree would not betray her. And even if they did, could she really blame them? She was a liability — huge and hardly mobile. Bringing her along on their escape plans would not only decrease the chance of success, but it was foolish.

Often, sacrifices had to be made to ensure the greatest chance of survival to the largest number of people. Frisk was a captain, and he knew as much. It was ironic that Wendy, the greatest liability in this situation, was also the only thing keeping everyone alive at that moment.

Wendy was anxious.

-

Her thoughts would race and cycle as she sat perched on that bed, feeling trapped. She couldn’t believe what one mistake on Glork had transformed her into. She would try to remind herself that it was a blessing, and that her condition was keeping her of use to her captors. But it was hard to see it as anything but a curse. Maybe it would have been better to receive a quick death like the rest of the crew, rather than having to endure these weeks of psychological and physical torment.

Wendy’s complete dependence on food was only exacerbating. Any moment she was conscious, she was eating. She was relentless and slovenly, constantly stuffing food into her mouth greedily and voraciously, even snorting like some pig. The aches and pressure spikes didn’t deter her, Wendy simply pausing as her belly tensed up and tightened. She would groan and clutch it, but still managed to shovel food into her mouth with her free hand. She was constantly coated in the foreign alien food, greases, gravies, and sticky jellies covering her hands, face, chest, and even her belly.

“Gods,” Wendy moaned that day, during a particularly forceful episode of lurching, her babies squirming relentlessly inside of her. She rubbed the side of her belly with her dirty hand. “Calm…down…” she puffed out, urging them to relax. She was sat upright, thighs spread wide, belly perched on the bed between them, but also partially squashing against her legs which couldn’t extend far enough to avoid the huge mass. She gasped for breath, belly heaving and throbbing as she sagged against it, honeydew sized-breasts shelved atop it, while squashing against her chin. She was completely overwhelmed by the massiveness of her own body.

And still, she stuffed her mouth, whimpering and whining as her insides churned in protest. Her belly ached and pumped, stretching and pulsing. Yet she couldn’t stop. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She could feel her comrades staring, but could hardly explain her state of mind, and didn’t try. It was like she was addicted to the food. She was eating yet anguished.

The door burst open, startling all of them. Wendy looked up to see several Zulians march in, bucket in hand. They visited erratically, but it was always the same. Wendy hardly had the chance to gulp down the food in her mouth before she was being shoved back against her pillows, the funnel forced between her lips.

She gulped eagerly, feeling dizzy and vision blurring. But she continued to drink, filling herself beyond her capacity, consuming as much as she could. The babies wanted more. She needed more. At some point, she heard Serse’s voice.

“What a good little pig. Fattening itsself up. Almost immobilized by its ssize.”

Wendy choked slightly as she felt Serse’s clawed hand prodding at her abdomen. Wendy could still feel Sree and Frisk gazing at her in morbid fascination, her eyes wide and staring at nothing, as she gulped and gulped. Because when she wasn’t eating, hunger pains assailed her, and she felt like she could pass out.

Wendy had recently been given a change of clothes, though she hardly considered them to be clothes at all. It was a full-length garment that hugged her body, the soft beige material rendered transparent from its thinness. It pulled taut against her form while still offering room to stretch more. The Zulians wanted to display her at any opportunity. She was their upcoming feast. A delicacy.

Serse patted her belly again, Wendy grunting and belching, feeling like she would regurgitate, but she managed not to. Tears poured down Wendy’s full cheeks as she snorted and panted, but one of the Zulians grabbed hold of her hair, keeping her head steady, and shoved the funnel deeper into her mouth. Wendy gagged only briefly, then resumed drinking, consuming the downpour so she would not choke on it. But she wanted it regardless. She could feel the fabric stretching more, rendered so tight it was nearly invisible. She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take.

Wendy managed to finish the bucket of slop in no time at all. By then she was trembling and quaking, desperate sobs coming up her throat. “P-please —m-more!”

The Zulian’s were surprised but amused. Serse motioned for his men to step aside as he crept forward to approach Wendy. He climbed onto the bed with her. Took hold of Wendy’s garb, unbuttoning and peeling it open, until Wendy’s round, leaking breasts and swollen nipples were exposed. Serse leaned forward and began to drink.

As Wendy groaned, she was provided with more food. She grabbed up morsels with clumsy hands, shoving them into her mouth, as Serse fed in the meantime. When she could, Wendy took in gasps of breath. There was suddenly a deep, unfamiliar, twisting sensation in her belly. She gasped out and dropped her latest piece of food, her hands instead shooting to her flanks. “Ohhhh…” Her belly clenched with a surge of tension that was more violent and forceful, causing the whole mass to jerk.

Serse pulled off Wendy’s nipple with a wet pop, glancing up at the pregnant young woman. “Finally full, are you?” he said with a sneer.

Wendy didn’t think she could speak. She just sniffed, and managed a nod.

Serse leaned back down to continue drinking, the half-dozen Zulians surrounding them watching Wendy warily.

The sensation occurred again. Wendy grunted but tried not to react too evidently, instead pressing her lips and squeezing her eyes shut. It was unlike anything she had experienced so far, accompanied by a growing pain that reverberated along her body, as her belly somehow, impossibly, grew heavier. Like it was sinking. Dropping. She arched and whined out but tried to press her mouth shut.

Too accustomed to Wendy’s moans, the Zulians did not react much. Serse got his fill, and finally pulled off, breathing heavily with a satisfied smile. He lightly patted Wendy’s breast, watching the flesh jiggle as Wendy grimaced.

“Every part of you this creature is deliciouss. Truly a gift. I wonder why it is that we have never farmed humans. Because the Federation illegalized it? I grow weary of their archaic lawss.”

There were mutterings of agreement amongst his guards.

“Let the bitch rest. We want our meat untroubled. Soft and ssupple,” Serse said with a smirk.

Wendy did not get much sleep that night. She was panting through episodes of pain, by then fully aware that she was in labor. She dozed in and out but never submerged into a deep sleep, because every several minutes the forceful clenching would overcome her. Her belly would squeeze, causing her to grunt out as she tried to endure the escalating pressure. She knew that she didn’t have much time left. But she had to keep her babies safe.

At some point in the night, Serse came by, which wasn’t too unusual. He slipped over to drink from Wendy, still enamored by the human’s milk; seduced by the taste of it. Wendy had never consumed any of it, herself. She didn’t want any additional reminders of what her body had become—this motherly machine; a foul vessel of production. A feast to alien lizards. Wendy had become incidental to the throbbing orb attached to her body.

As Serse suckled, blithely pressing into Wendy’s fecund body, Wendy did everything she could to disguise her contractions. She breathed through them, her body flushed and sweaty. She pretended the tremors weren’t anything unusual as her belly squeezed and shoved her cargo downwards. She could feel labor advancing, the pressure sinking. She wanted to wail out, but instead just grimaced and clenched her jaw, waiting until Serse was finished.

This was the end. It was the inevitability that they had all been waiting for. Wendy couldn’t contain them forever. She had to give birth or she was certain they would burst out on their own.

She cupped her flushed navel, where her belly button bulged out the size of a golf ball. Her abdomen shuddered, the skin tight and tense, weeping sweat.

“Wendy,” a voice whispered.

Wendy was pulled out of her reverie as another groan escaped her throat. Her clothing was pasted against her. She was dimly aware that Serse was no longer present. He must have left at some point.

“It’s time,” Sree murmured.

“What…” At first Wendy didn’t understand. Then, she thought Sree was talking about the babies. “No,” she protested groggily. “I c-can’t let them —”

“It’s time to go.”

Wendy blinked the weariness from her eyes. She looked up, through the darkness, to see Frisk and Sree standing beside the bed. “Oh…” she said hoarsely. “Yes. Gods, yes.”

Escape.

They helped her to stand. It took some effort. Wendy staggered to the wall, leaning her belly against it for support. It gave a forceful jerk, causing her to whine out. Frisk shushed her with a harsh look, and Wendy pressed her fist against her mouth.

Sree looked concerned. “You’re —?”

Wendy nodded as she blinked back the tears in her eyes. “I think they’re…the babies—I-I’m in labor.” She clutched what she could of her mass, accepting that she and her children might very well be doomed.

“Okay,” Frisk said calmly, like he might have already considered this possibility. “You’re going to have to hold on a little longer. I’ll go out, through the grate. Wait for my signal.”

Frisk disappeared into the bathroom. Sree and Wendy waited there in the darkness, Wendy’s legs feeling like gelatin. The pain was throbbing from her core down her back and thighs. She could feel something shifting, pressing harder on her pelvis, then lower. She fidgeted, and clutched her aching back, desperately wanting to sit down. But she forced in air and pushed it out, not knowing how much time had passed before she heard something. The smallest of sounds, like a scratching on the door of a careful finger. “That’s him,” Wendy managed.

The lock turned slowly. The door creaked open to reveal Frisk now standing there in the corridor. And suddenly they were free, if just marginally.

Wendy's belly brushed against either side of the door frame as she staggered out of the room. She would arch for balance, but then hunch from fatigue. Her belly would jerk, or puff out, causing her to lose her breath and wheeze. She clutched what she could reach of her mass with her arms, forceful contractions assailing her at unpredictable intervals.

She could barely make any ground, instead stopping to lean on the wall, struggling not to moan out. Frisk and Sree went to her sides, taking her arms about their shoulders, trying to offer some aid and support. But it was still unbelievably arduous. She was just so heavy; so full. This wasn’t going to work. She couldn’t help sobbing as another contraction overwhelmed her body, causing her to freeze up again.

“Keep moving,” Frisk warned, his tone offering no room to argument. All of their lives were on the line, but these babies seemed determined to sabotage.

Wendy pushed forward. She felt delirious from the pain and pressure. When it seemed she could no longer contain her moans, Sree covered Wendy’s mouth with an apologetic expression. “Come on Wendy, just a little farther,” Sree urged, her voice strangled. She looked to be in pain just offering the little support that she could. Wendy was just so heavy, and only getting heavier as her legs fumbled and her belly rocked.

She needed to keep the babies inside of her. Safe. Because the moment they were out, it would be over. Wendy couldn’t afford to slow down or stop, not now, not now when they were so close to getting off this awful planet.

She was hot and sweaty, her clothing soaked. Her abdomen was now overcome by a heated throbbing. Her hips felt tight and her groin felt odd. Uncomfortable, and sore, pain steadily blooming. Pressure was shifting lower and lower, Wendy’s grunts muffled by Sree’s hand nearly smothering her.

They got to a part of the building Wendy had never been to before, though she had often seen men in flight-suits coming in and out of this wing. The metallic lift looked so out of place in the otherwise antiquated, stone-based architecture.

“This will lead to the deck on the roof,” said Frisk, as he pressed a button to open the elevator door. “There should be something I can hotwire. A ship or even a pod.”

The door slid open with a hiss that made Sree flinch and look around in panic. But they had not been captured. Not yet. Wendy could have cried from relief as they started forward. This was almost over.

The trio proceeded, into the lift. Frisk, then Sree, and then —

But Wendy was stopped. She couldn’t continue. Physically. She looked down at herself, horrified to see that her belly could not fit through the opening.