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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 

-

Wendy successfully birthed all sixteen of her plump, healthy, fifteen-pound babies.

The trauma of everything she had been through during the pregnancy, the pregnancy itself, and the delivery, left her bedbound for weeks. Physically, she was healthy, albeit exhausted.

When she finally got herself up again, she studied her reflection in the full-length mirror in the diplomatic quarters she had been set up with in Glork. It was odd to see her body back to near-normal proportions, aside from the huge breasts jutting out on her chest. Her belly remained rounded and soft, making her look as though she was still six months pregnant with one child, though it was squishy and a bit saggy as well.

She would take it.

Etro gladly took custody of their dozen-plus babies for the time being as Wendy tried to sort herself out, both physically and emotionally. She did not return to work; she didn’t even know if she would have been welcomed back by Spaceforce. So for the time being, she just tried to adjust to her post-pregnancy, post-Zuul life, and to the trauma of it all. She spent some time with Frisk and Sree, but mostly kept to herself, alone. She took residence on Glork for the time being as she tried to figure out how she felt about the offspring, and determine if she could ever be a part of their lives.

The Glorkians welcomed her as some sort of celebrity, which was all the more incentive for Wendy to stay in, keeping to herself in her modest dwellings. She was fatigued of the attention. Fatigued of everything.

She grew ill over time.

It was an odd and befuddling ail, in sharp contrast to her full, plump state of pregnancy. She started losing weight at an alarming rate, and growing weak as well. At first she had thought it was just her body self-correcting, but in a matter of weeks, she had grown quite thin. To add to this, her body temperature was several degrees above the norm, leaving Wendy feverish; always flustered and sweaty.

Even odder, she was aroused. Her blood was pulsing, body yearning for contact. Sometimes she would find herself gazing hungrily at some Glorkian diplomat, before abruptly shaking herself out of her reverie, terrified with herself. Wasn’t that what had gotten her into this mess in the first place? Yet the arousal was undeniable. She was always breathless, fidgety, and needy. She needed contact. She needed…she needed something. Someone. She felt empty.

It was these thoughts that made Wendy truly concerned. She suspected hormone imbalances, and perhaps Glorkian food just wasn’t sufficiently nutritious for humans. Wendy tried to eat more, though it didn’t help with the weight loss. She finally caved and consulted with some local physicians, though they could not find anything that would explain her symptoms. They said she was wasting, and at risk of death. It was only after they summoned a federation specialist of alien biology that the true issue was determined.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” said the specialist, the Glorkian language rough on his tongue. He was a being from Nisperin and had eight limbs, his skin onyx with an oily sheen. “The pregnancy seems to have left a…cavity. The womb never shrunk, as would be expected. Instead, it…how to say…it needs to be filled. Your body is redirecting blood and nutrients to the abdomen, as though you are still with child.”

Wendy was stunned. She could hardly understand it.

“Your body has become so accustomed to being pregnant, it functions as though it still is. But this is draining. The womb is monopolizing your resources. Likely, you will not survive much longer, not unless — you must carry again. A heavy litter might stabilize things.”

Wendy went numb. She walked away from the appointment, wordless.

Yet she continued to get sicker. She spent several weeks at her quarters, in bed, hardly able to function. When she did get up, there were dizzy spells, and so the gaps between her wakefulness grew larger. Wendy slept a lot. She slept through her worries. Until one day she awoke to find herself in a Glorkian medical facility. She looked groggily at the tubes and wires that littered her body, not feeling any better than she had when she’d closed her eyes. But she was awake. That was something.

A medical technician was surveying her. He saw that Wendy was awake, and came over.

“We have tried supplements and intravenous feedings. We’ve had you examined by some of the best physicians in the galaxy, and all say the same. You are going to die, human, not unless you…”

Wendy swallowed. The dryness of her throat sent her into a fit of coughs.

“The people here look up to you. You are a foreign celebrity. And news has spread of your sickness,” the technician told her. “We can prolong your life, but these measures are no solution. Eventually, you will be depleted. Even our technology cannot stop that.”

Wendy stared at the ceiling. She knew she couldn’t fight this any longer. And she knew what her body wanted. Maybe even her subconscious, on some secret level. And so, she asked, “Can you call Etro?”

-

Several years later, Frisk hiked up to the large house on the hill. After he knocked, he stood waiting on the porch, and could hear the sounds of children giggling, babbling, and wailing, even before the door opened.

“Good to see you again, Captain,” said the Glorkian man who greeted him. He had an infant balanced on each hip. Behind him was a multitude of kids wobbling or crawling against the soft carpeted floor.

Frisk shook his hand. “You as well, Etro,” he said as he entered the house.

“She’s in the kitchen.”

“I’ll see myself there.”

There were a lot of rumors circulating Spaceforce regarding what had truly happened to Wendy. Some said she was booted for perversions which included whoring herself out to various alien species’. Others said she was obsessed with breeding. There were the few who believed that Glork had hired her to breed a new species of human/Glork offspring for whatever depraved reason. That theory was particularly absurd. After all, they were two rather soft species’, and thus an unimpressive combination of genes.

None of the accounts were nearly accurate, though Wendy didn’t seem to mind it.

Her face lit up when Frisk walked into the kitchen.

Wendy was seated on a chair, her face bright but exhausted. Her belly was full and round, perched in her lap, wider than the rest of her, larger than a beach ball. She was constantly touching it, cupping it, rubbing it with her fingers, in an idle, habitual way. Her cheeks were flushed, face dewy. She truly looked like a mother.

“Captain,” said Wendy.

“You know it’s Frisk, Wendy. Always Frisk.” Frisk took a spare seat at the table. “I’m not your superior or even your equal. You saved my life.”

Wendy’s face flushed. “Right.”

“How are you?”

“Good,” said Wendy, her fingers tracing circles on the side of her huge abdomen. “On my fourth litter. The kids are…a lot.”

“I can see that.” Frisk smiled as a toddler stumbled by.

“But it’s good,” Wendy added, looking even wearier as she said it. “How is Sree? I’ve been meaning to call her again, it’s just hard to keep up with her flight schedule.”

“She’s well,” said Frisk. “Working nonstop, but she seems to love it again.”

“Ah…” said Wendy with a wistful look in her eyes. “Glad to hear.”

Frisk appraised her for a moment, fondly, but curious. “Are you happy, Wendy?” he wanted to know.

Wendy looked a bit surprised. She reached out, fidgeting now with a glass of water on the table top. Frisk could see her belly shift at the top, Wendy correspondingly wincing at what seemed to be a particularly hard kick. “Are you kidding? I’m just lucky to have survived.”

“Yes, but are you happy?” Frisk reiterated.

Wendy sighed. “I’ve got a house full of kids…” she mused with an uncertain smile as she looked down into her glass. “I always wanted to be a captain, you know? I never wanted to get…domestic, or settle down. I would’ve never imagined a life like this for myself, not in a million years. I’m constantly pregnant, like really pregnant. It’s just insane.” Wendy gave the baffled grin, like she was questioning these things as she said them. Like she was incredulous, even then. “But…I think I’ve had enough adventure for a lifetime. Yes, I think I am happy,” she concluded, her smile softening as she met Frisk’s eyes.

The End

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