Delicacy, Part 9 - 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 

-

The transfer was hellish.

The Glorks decided to forgo transport beam technology, finding it unsuitable for a pregnant person.

Wendy tried to see this as auspicious. They wanted to keep her, or at least her offspring, safe.

Yet it made for a horrific experience. Wendy’s human doctors had cut off all her medications, as requested by the Glorks. In consequence, she had to deal with incrementally increasing discomfort, along with the first tremors of contractions that were getting more painful and forceful by the moment.

On top of all that, the human press had gotten wind of the situation, and the moment Wendy’s massive, fortified bed was rolled out of the hospital, she was bombarded with flashing lights from dozens of cameras, and the sight of police barricades as protesters shouted and raised signs that displayed anti-alien rhetoric.

A massive Glork vessel hovered in the sky, blocking out the sun, and making the whole ordeal more ominous than it already was.

Wendy’s heart was racing from panic. It was all too much, after—after everything she’d just survived. Her eyes fluttered, the world flickering, and then there was blackness.

-

When Wendy came to, there were no longer hateful shouts of insult.

Instead, there was cheering.

Wendy grimaced against the pain and discomfort. She slowly opened her eyes, blinking around.

She was on the ground, in the middle of a huge stadium, her belly perched on the grass in front of her. It outspanned her arms, and there was no way she could even come close to all fours. Instead she was just knelt there, thighs spread, sitting on her heels, slumped against her own belly which in turn was squishing back against her.

Feeling claustrophobic, Wendy tried to move, but could only get as far as her knees, belly still perched against the ground. Her panicked eyes darted around, revealing what looked like a football stadium around her, every seat packed with an enthusiastically cheering Glorkian. The pale orange sky told Wendy that she was on the Glork home planet. But that didn’t explain much. She should have been in a medical facility, or—

Her belly contracted. Wendy screamed, her back arching as her abdomen squeezed, feeling like a tight ball that was about to pop. The pain was excruciating. Her hands scrabbled helplessly at her tight, flushed midsection. As the pain mitigated, Wendy was left sobbing pathetically, tears pouring down her face. “Please…” she choked out to no one in particular.

She could feel how her body had changed. Her hips felt tighter, her backside swollen. The babies were finally coming, trying to descend, but they were just too big, and it was all too much. She needed doctors. Surgery. Some sort of medical oversight. Instead the Glorkians were enjoying her strain like this was some spectator sport.

Her belly throbbed, her abdomen pulsating. Wendy started to hyperventilate in fear and anticipation of the next contraction.

“A Spaceforce lieutentant,” boomed a voice from several speakers hanging high around the stadium. Wendy could understand most of the alien tongue, even despite her state of distress. “Look at how she breeds for us. Packed her body with our young until she can hardly contain them! She screams to bring Glork young to this world!”

Another contraction hit. Wendy gave an inhuman squeal, face beet red, tears and spittle running down it as she whined out, struggling. Her belly bulged forcefully in spots, feet, hands, heads, and elbows shoving at the surface as she arched, her skin burning. Her breasts pushed out from under the hem of her too-small shirt, nipples squirting milk.

It was only as the contraction abated that Wendy blearily realized that she was wearing an ill-fitting Spaceforce officer uniform. Someone must have put it on her. The Glorks were boasting that they had impregnated someone from the elite organization. They were proud to have bred a human like some farm animal. She was outrageously pregnant, rendered immobile by the heaviness of her litter. She moaned, feeling delirious from the pain.

“Do you know how hard it is for an alien to impregnate a human? Nearly impossible. But we are superior!”

The crowd went crazy.

They were treating her labor like some show or attraction. But it was killing her. Wendy clutched what she could reach of her belly, struggling to breathe.

She could see someone approaching from the distance. A small girl was running out into the middle of the field, towards her. The girl was clutching something at her side, dragging it along with her. It looked like…a hose? Suddenly she was standing in front of Wendy, panting and grinning. The girl held up the nozzle on the hose, murmuring a single Glorkian word:

“Food.”

Almost the moment she said it, Wendy felt ravenous. Perhaps she had been too distracted by the painful contractions to realize that she felt positively starved. It didn’t make sense. She was in labor. Her body was trying to give birth. Yet all she could think about at that moment was eating; of filling herself more. She whimpered and fruitlessly reached out, wanting it.

The girl obligingly brought the hose, guiding it between Wendy’s lips. Wendy felt much like an animal as she closed her eyes, and sucked.

Her mouth was flooded. The substance reminded her of sauce or gravy. It was thick, grainy, savory, and oily, while having a strange aftertaste, but she had never expected much of alien cuisine. She moaned and snorted as she sucked it down, taking in as much as she could before another contraction could rack her body.

Her belly was rising and falling, puffing out like a blowfish or like the underside of a frogs throat, swelling up and looking ready to pop, before sinking somewhat. It was visibly pulsating, her babies lurching restlessly.

Another contraction. Wendy choked out, dropping the hose. By instinct, her hands reached out, grasping for it again, but there was little she could reach beyond her belly. She clutched her abdomen instead as she cried out, fingernails sinking into her skin, looking for something to grip as the pain ravaged her. Her back arched painfully hard, nipples absolutely spraying. “They’re coming!” she cried, as her hips grew heavier, her groin starting to burn. Something was pressed against her opening, but it was far too large. Her next scream went up an octave, eyes flying wide, hands shooting down to clutch at her plump hips. “No, no, no…” she wheezed out in protest. It felt so huge. She was going to tear. It was going to rip her apart!

Her belly shuddered again, but she tried not to push with the urge, she tried to slow it down. This baby was trying to burst out of her! “E-easy,” she sobbed out. She choked and gagged as her belly jerked, that pale pink line reappearing vertically across the face, as the mound heaved and bulged grossly.

“Let go,” the girl urged as the contraction faded, and Wendy was left gasping and sobbing, hardly able to breathe. Her hands desperately rubbed into her flushed, sweaty belly. She felt delirious from pain and discomfort, and just wanted to disappear from herself, to close her eyes and skip over this experience. Because she wasn’t sure she could survive it. Wendy’s vision blurred. She blacked out again.

-

Wendy came to gasping for breath. She didn’t know how much time had passed. Seconds, or minutes. It couldn’t have been longer, not in her state. She was trembling, her body pouring sweat and her pulse pounding in her ears. She was surprised to see that she was eye-to-eye with someone else. Someone had bent to her level and was holding the sides of Wendy’s face.

“You…” Wendy managed.

It was the Glorkian from that night, at the Onn’m—a Glork approximation of a bar, sort of. They had been consuming a popular herb—a recreational substance humans might consider illicit. But it didn’t lower inhibitions so much as it…freed. It suppressed those insecurities born of adulthood while intensifying base instinct, truth, and desire. That was when Wendy and this Glorkian…when they had coupled. And gods, Wendy couldn’t even remember his name.

“Etro,” the alien assisted, reading the question on Wendy’s face. “I am called Etro. I did not realize I left you with child. You must forgive me, lieutenant, for not finding you sooner. You see, this is a rarity. It is special.”

Wendy sniveled pathetically, completely overwhelmed. It wasn’t as though this alien had any significance to her. Aside from an indulgent hookup, they were virtually strangers. “It’s — it’s been hard,” Wendy choked out.

Suddenly she wanted to tell Etro anything. How she had struggled to hide her pregnancy to avoid being fired from Spacefore. How the Zulians had discovered her condition and stuffed her to these drastic, obscene proportions, intending to feast on her offspring.

Wendy’s face crumpled as she sensed a new contraction approaching. “Gods, why do they have to be…so big…” she grunted, clutching her stomach and pressing her lips together as the contraction barreled through her, insides tensing and belly spasming. But she couldn’t keep quiet, she wailed and found herself gripping onto Etro’s arms, entreating for him to make it stop. The pressure on her groin intensified, Wendy giving a choked gasp as she struggled to hold back. All the while, Etro gave calming murmurs until the contraction passed.

“Jesus…fuck,” Wendy whimpered, mopping some sweat off her face. Her uniform skirt was close to tearing at her hip. She could feel a head on the cusp of crowning.

The girl reappeared from behind Etro and unceremoniously stuffed the hose back into Wendy’s mouth. Wendy found herself gulping the substance down like some greedy animal. She was on autopilot to eat.

The girl and Etro conversed in their native tongue—something about Wendy needing the constant sustenance to sustain such a heavy litter.

She was terrified. Her belly lurched. She could feel it still actively growing, throbbing and huge, just dwarfing the rest of her. She had become secondary, simply attached to the mass of babies. Wendy sucked helplessly at the hose.

Etro leaned down to her ear. “It’s time to give birth,” he said, as he gently removed the nozzle from Wendy’s mouth as Wendy whimpered in protest, trying to grab at the retreating hose.

In the absence of distraction, she could already feel the next contraction rapidly approaching. “They’ll tear me,” she managed hysterically, too scared to push. She was losing her voice from screaming so much.

“You won’t,” Etro countered. “You are the perfect breeder. Just look at you.”

When the contraction finally hit her at full strength, Wendy’s throat could only produce vile squeaking noises. She was caught somewhere between crying and screaming. She felt like if she didn’t let the baby out, another would tear right out of her navel, which was bulging obscenely, her whole belly shuddering. “Noo…nrrgghhhhh…AHHHHHH!”

A huge head burst out of her opening! Wendy squealed in pain as her first baby rapidly came into the world, shoved through mostly by pressure, and the sheer fact that there was simply no more room. Etro quickly collected it before it could fall.

The crowd screamed, people leaping to her feet, craning to see, as Wendy struggled to breathe, eyes wide, body heaving, and nipples squirting.

“Oh god…oh god…” Wendy gasped as she felt the second baby shove its way into position, her heart hammering against her chest.

“He’s beautiful,” Etro murmured, coming around to show Wendy their extremely-plump, lavender-skinned newborn.

Wendy could hardly register anything other than the rapidly approaching contraction, and the growing pressure on her opening. The nozzle was shoved back to her mouth, and she gulped mechanically, eyes wide but not really seeing.

“You have served Glork well,” Etro told her. “You are—as humans might say—famous. Loved by all.”

Wendy moaned helplessly around the nozzle. Then the next contraction came.