Delicacy, Part 7 - 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 

-

“I…I don’t fit.”

The words fell out of Wendy’s mouth before she put together the implications. She could not fit through the elevator doors. She couldn’t get up to the ship deck on the roof. And so, she couldn’t escape.

Frisk and Sree stared at her with wide eyes, both of them momentarily speechless.

“Don’t—don’t be ridiculous,” Frisk finally said. He offered out his hand.

Numbly, Wendy reached out to take it, having to stretch her limb before she had a firm grasp on Frisk’s. Numbly, she realized, her belly nearly outspanned her arms.

Wendy grunted as Frisk pulled, her belly jamming against the opening as they attempted to squish it through, but it only proceeded by two or so inches before it got too painful. “Guhhhh—stop!” Wendy cried, the pressure and strain making her abdomen feel like it would burst.

Frisk released her, and Wendy stumbled slightly, left somewhere between panting and sobbing. She leaned back on the wall for support because her knees felt ready to buckle. Oh fuck, oh fuck. What were they going to do?

“We’ll find another way,” said Frisk, stepping out of the elevator. “There has to be —”

“No,” Wendy managed. “No. We don’t have time. Y-you have to g-go!”

“Wendy, we’re not leaving you!” Sree protested.

“Come back for me. Tell the Federation where I am. I—ngghhhhh…” She clutched her mass, her jaw clenching hard. It quaked then jerked, leaving her gagging. It was just taking up every bit of space, squishing her stomach and organs aside as the children grew, and descended, and she just tried to bear it all.

“Wendy—”

“GOOO!” Wendy screamed. It was so loud, Frisk and Sree threw a panicked look down the corridor they had come from, fearful that someone might have heard. Wendy thought she could hear footsteps, but wasn’t sure. She was in too much pain, her pulse pounding in her ears. She breathed raggedly, feeling hot and breathless, her throat burning. Her stomach jerked again, as though a creature inside was trying to tear right out of her. And each time, it knocked the breath out of her lungs, making her want to keel over. “Pleasse…” She managed, tears pouring down her cheeks. She felt delirious from pain, and was certain the contractions would kill her if the Zulians didn’t first. “Just gooo…”

Frisk and Sree looked at each other, both appearing utterly helpless. But they knew Wendy was right. Their captors had killed every other member of their crew. To hesitate now would be a death wish for all three of them.

“We’ll come back for you,” Frisk promised, thought he looked mournful.

“Wendy…” Sree was crying.

“Errggggghhh!” Wendy clutched her abdomen as hard as she could, her belly heaving. It resembled a beach ball in size, probably bigger. It felt like it wanted to break free. Her body couldn’t hold them anymore.

Wendy didn’t think she could talk but she gave a jerky nod, her eyes squeezed shut.

She felt Sree embrace her side; what she could of it. Sree pulled back, her clumsy footsteps thudding on the metallic floor. There was the beep of the console and the elevator doors slid shut. After that, Wendy knew she was alone.

“Hahhhhhh…hahhhhhh…hoooo…” she panted. Her hips felt weird. Heavy. She reached down to cup it and was certain they were widening. She didn’t know what to do. Every moment she tried to hold herself together just brought her closer to breaking to pieces. And once she did, all was lost. Her life. These babies. Tears poured down her face.

With a long grunt of effort, Wendy turned, shifting so that her belly was pressing into the wall. She needed any bit of support that she could get. It was just so much. Her heart pounded and burned, feeling like it would burst from the strain of it all.

The footsteps were louder now, pounding on the floor as they approached with haste, the small clicks of clawed feet snapping against the synthetic surface. When Wendy looked up, she was surrounded by Zulian guards, their fangs bared as they hissed.

“Where are the othersss?” one said.

“Check the hanger!”

Several marched for the elevator.

“The wench is in distress.”

“Is it time?”

“Call Serse!”

Wendy was taken by the arms. She screamed as the guards started to drag her, the weight of her belly too much on her torso and shoulders whenever her clumsy feet slipped beneath her. Her navel was burning, flesh stinging and aching. She was going to rupture. Her whole body would split in two! “E-easy!” She pleaded, choking on her tears and mucus. But they weren’t easy. Her abdomen jutted and she gave another wail of pain.

-

Wendy was in a haze of fear and pressure, intense pain now regularly spiking in her core. Her belly was throbbing continuously with force. The pulsations were visible, like she had a giant heart wedged inside her belly.

Wendy didn’t know how much time had passed, but she suddenly found herself in an unfamiliar room standing before Serse, her body trembling violently. The only thing that kept her balanced were the guards at her flanks.

“Sso you aided the other Spaceforce rodentss in fleeing,” Serse noted, with a hint of wryness. “Of courssse, it is of little consequence. Their presence was for your own moral. Keep you alive, kicking, eating, and growing. Their lives are of less worth than the pod they stole.”

Wendy was shoved down against a bed, groaning as she was sprawled there, partially upright by the raised back. It reminded her of a dental chair, but wider, and much sturdier. It was more medical than the bed in her quarters. She could smell the faint, earthy aroma of hot vegetables somewhere nearby.

“Do you know that mammals are considered the stupidest of creaturesss,” Serse said. “So sssoft and flesshy; so ssmall-minded. It’s a wonder you were even allowed in Sspaceforce to begin with. An earthling,” Serse spat the word.

Wendy panted heavily. She whimpered pathetically, tears and spittle continuing to run do her face.

“You invested sso much precious energy in helping your comeradess esscape. Yet you were too fat to follow. Couldn’t posssibly fit in the pod. Too burdened, too full of sspawn. A stuffed whore panting to breed.”

Wendy released a high squeal when Serse unexpectedly slapped her midsection.

“They will not come back for you. You have no value to them anymore. Barely had any to sstart with. Your only value iss to be farmed, bred, milked, and eaten.”

If she had done anything right in this ordeal, it had been helping Frisk and Sree escape. Wendy sniveled and nodded, hands pawing at her flanks. She did not disagree with anything Serse was saying.

“You undersstand, bitch? By intergalactic standardss, you are little more than an animal.”

“Nrrgghhhhh!” her belly clenched up, heaving forcefully. She couldn’t breathe for a full moment, before it relaxed again, sinking slightly. Wendy panted heavily, breasts wobbling and nipples aching. They were larger and more swollen than they had ever been before. Her pelvis was tight and she felt the intense urge to push, but fought against it, even as pain assailed her insides. She scrambled under her own tremendous weight.

“You thought you could hide that you were in labor, but it shows blatantly. The spawn are trying to shove their way out.”

Wendy released another long groan as her belly quaked. She didn’t know how much more she could take of this. Her body just wanted release.

“Indeed, it isss time for the feasst,” Serse said.

Wendy leaned back, her back arching, arching so hard it came off the bed. Her belly shoved forward as she tried to bear the impossibly intense contraction. It seemed like it was inflating, looking ready to pop right there as she gave a long, inhuman squeal.

Then it ended, and she could barely breathe, slumping, crying. Sobbing pathetically as Serse sneered down at her in clear pleasure.

“Bring the feed,” Serse hissed.

The door to the room banged open. Several Zulians marched in, toting a familiar bucket, slop spilling over the sides.

“No,” Wendy gasped out, alarmed that they would think this was even possible for her anymore. “No, I can’t—”
She choked on the funnel as it was jammed into her throat. Without ceremony, they began to tip the substance in.

It felt even heavier, if that was possible. Every gulp was excruciating, but Wendy had no choice but to force it down.

She wanted to gag, but she knew if she did she would choke, and doubted the Zulians would care either way. She drank against the knowledge that she couldn’t take any more. She could feel her belly getting heavier and broader, stretching painfully as her body burned with heat and tension and her heart raced. Her babies lurched, causing shivers to reverberate across the surface of her taut flesh. All this time, she had been trying to contain them, to keep them safe. But she didn’t think she could keep going. It was just too much.

“Consider thiss a punisshment,” said Serse sinisterly. With a clawed hand, he reached out and prodded at Wendy’s gleaming midsection, causing a muffled grunt to escape Wendy’s throat.

Finally, the bucket was finished. Wendy panted heavily, her belly feeling as though it was squeezing her, squishing her aside.

Then another bucket was carried over. Wendy stared at it in disbelief. She sat there in a haze, drool, sweat, and tears pouring down her chin.

She could not even react when the funnel was replaced, the bucket tipped. Then she was glugging more of the slop down, consistently choking and coughing, as yet more of it was forced down her throat. It spilled down her face, into her cleavage, her body heaving, breasts wiggling as she struggled to endure. Before she knew it, most of the slop had been consumed. At least, that which had not poured down her front. She was sobbing on her efforts to catch her breath. She felt dizzy. Felt like she was going to pass out from the strain.

And then a third bucket was being brought over. Wendy gave a hoarse, animalistic whine. She whimpered and writhed, pinned beneath her own weight. There was nothing to be done. The Zulian’s began to pour.

Wendy went in and out of consciousness. Most of the time she was choking and gagging, but she also managed to gulp, if just by compulsion. She was hardly cognizant of her belly anymore, but she could feel the intense pressure, and an escalating, focused pain. A burning, piercing sensation. She stared off, not seeing anything, eyes unfocused, body shuddering.

Wendy came out of her reverie to one of the Zulians slapping her across the face. She screamed and arched as she was reacquainted with the hot, acute strain. The babies were growing! She could see her body swelling, belly rising like dough before her. Her eyelids fluttered and she started to pass out again, but one of the Zulian guards injected something into her shoulder, and suddenly Wendy was wide awake despite not wanting to be. She screamed again.

A deep red line had formed under her navel, vertically across her belly. Her mass was lurching, bulging, and pulling apart, finally ready to burst.

“Don’t let her tear!” One of the Zulians hissed with urgency. “Get her to the dining room!”

Wendy’s bed was being rolled. Simultaneously, the Zulians were pouring substances against her, oils and lotions, slathering it all over her belly. She continued to grunt, writhe, and scream. She couldn’t take anymore! She might have asked them to put her out of her misery had she thought she could articulate words. “C-can’t—” was all she could manage, chest tremoring just from the effort. Her belly button was a deep pink and bulging out the size of a tangerine. She felt like something was going to burst out of her at any moment, whether it be from her navel or her groin.

She was wheeled through the kitchens and into a large, lavish eating hall with intricate tapestries adorning the walls, and a long rectangular table where at least two dozen Zulians sat in fine dress, each of them eagerly waiting. Not one of them took their eyes off Wendy as she was rolled right in, outrageously fattened, and on the brink of succumbing to her huge burden. She cried out in pain as she was moved from the bed to the thick dining table, causing the crude woodwork to creak, but it held somehow.

She was laid sprawled back against it, moaning as more garnishments were poured directly on her belly. Spices and sauces. Vegetables were laid around her quickly and artfully by some servants.

The keen diners rose from their seats, surveying their feast. They had forgone cooking her, instead deeming to eat her live. The savagery of this concept just fit with their nature. And inexplicably, Wendy found herself somewhere beyond fear by then. She was resigned. Exhausted. She just wanted this all to end. Her only regret was that her children would suffer in the process.

“So…hungry…” Wendy rasped out. She couldn’t believe herself, but it was true. Even after being stuffed so thoroughly, stuffed to the point of bursting, her body still had the chronic desire for more. She was so big, she could hardly breathe, her lungs and every other organ shoved aside, compressed. Her belly grumbled with a visible tremble. It seemed the size of a small boulder. “P-please.” Her belly clenched, her hips quaking. Then it grumbled again. The babies writhed fitfully, causing her to wheeze. Her abdomen jumped, and she squealed out, nipples squirting. This was it. She was about to split open!

Serse stood at the head of the table, gaze rapt on Wendy’s monstrously swollen midsection. “Gods, we thank you for this feast.”

The party echoed Serse as they loomed closer.

Wendy’s belly literally bounced from the forceful heaves and contractions.

She was finally at her breaking point.

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