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Delicacy, Part 5 - Male Version
🕑 Added 2022-02-24 04:37:52 +0000 UTCStory Directory: $5 Patrons
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Summary: After being abducted by aliens, Tyler, 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 Tyler goes into labor a week before the feast, and the babies want out. Knowing that the moment he gives birth, he will be of no value to the alien captors, Tyler struggles to contain the children, all while plotting an (increasingly hopeless) escape. Contains: Male: pregnancy, belly expansion, breast expansion, butt expansion, and more.
-
The garb had been torn a few days ago in Serse’s haste to get under Tyler’s shirt. Tyler was back in his straining officer uniform, which was rendered a crop shirt, in that it only managed to cover his breasts, though an inch or two of his under-breast flesh was bulging out under the hem. His belly, meanwhile, protruded completely out in the open, bare, obtrusive, and unavoidable. The mound was a massive dome, wider than the rest of him. It was so big and heavy, he felt exhausted just standing.
That day, Tyler found himself on display again, standing amongst a dozen or so Zulians as they conversed, dined, and surveyed him. Tyler was shown off as he struggled to remain standing, his body trembling and his abdomen heaving with his thin breathing.
His insides were churning continuously. Were those his children? With the relentless, squirming movement, as though there just wasn’t enough room anymore. Undoubtedly they were plump and lethargic from being overfed so consistently. He didn’t know what he was going to do. Gods, he was worried.
“Didn’t I tell you this one would keep growing?” Serse said to one of the men in his company.
“Perhapss we underestimate humansss. Thiss one has quite the capacity to sstretch,” another Zulian responded.
“Its hunger is relentlesss,” said Serse smugly. “Shows up pregnant with a full litter, and just on the cussp of the feast. Then it fattens itself like a murspig. You cannot tell me this is not a gift from the gods.”
Tyler was out of it, panting and sweating as the room seemed to spin around him. His back was aching, his belly tight and tense. His nipples were stinging, breasts engorged. His backside had continued to swell in recent days, the trousers of his uniform stretched yet barely pulling up enough to cover his ass crack. It was tied to him by a piece of rope, but even that was reaching the end of its capacity to contain his swelling form.
Tyler didn’t even notice the approach of the Zulian, but yelped as he was shoved into a seat, his belly crashing against him, knocking the air out of his lungs and leaving his insides ricocheting. It stirred up forceful, squirming movement that left him groaning and wheezing. His legs fumbled, trying to get himself seated more upright, with less of his weight against his torso. He wanted to shift it more towards his lap but couldn’t seem to get his footing, too disoriented and exhausted. He could see his flesh shifting, bulging and changing shape.
Before he could gather his composure, the familiar funnel was being shoved into his mouth. They began to force-feed him, but it was hardly forcing. Even despite his breathless discomfort, his shaking hands clutched at the funnel, pulling it deeper as he took long sucks, drinking as much as he could. Because as usual, he felt as though he was starving.
Lately Tyler was saying awake longer, and was able to endure greater feedings. He no longer completely passed out after one bucket. He was better at swallowing, getting it all down fast and efficiently. He was no longer choking like he used to. He was accustomed to being full and tight, painfully tight, feeling his womb and skin stretch to their limits and beyond them. He could feel his babies growing, lurching and swelling as he pumped them with fat. He could feel his tits getting even more engorged, swelling and tightening until his coke cap-sized nipples started to squirt.
“That’s a good bitch,” Serse said as Tyler continued to desperately consume. Serse patted Tyler’s bulging midsection, causing Tyler to groan, and cough, but he quickly went back to drinking. “I think he likes it.”
-
Tyler’s vision blurred in and out as he was dragged back to his quarters. Then he was propped in his bed, his thighs spread as wide as they could go, belly perched between them, resting on the mattress, as it throbbed and he panted, rubbing what he could reach of it. He whimpered as his fingers connected to a bulge under his navel, where he could feel a baby’s head pressing out, as though seeking exit. He cupped it, panting. “Oh god.” He threw his head back, just struggling to breathe. He was tight and pressurized, but worse, he could feel himself growing. Steadily expanding as he absorbed recent calories, his body hot and sweaty, tense and heaving. He could feel the others watching him, but hardly had energy to acknowledge it. He was just trying to bear it all. His heart was pounding so hard he felt dizzy.
Sometimes he felt like everything was riding on him. He tried to look out for Frisk and Sree, even when they were stubborn with him. He tried to keep himself, and his babies, alive, by doing what was requested of him. He tried to be obedient, and stay in good standing with the Zulian’s (or as good as it would ever be). At the same time, he tried to deflect attention from his companions, because he was scared someone would notice what little purpose they served here. He didn’t want Sree and Frisk to end up dead like all the others.
But Tyler, himself, was on borrowed time. There was only so much growth he could take. And there was only so long that he could contain these babies.
He was spending a lot of time in Serse’s quarters lately. The leader seemed practically addicted to Tyler’s milk, attacking Tyler’s breasts the moment he saw him. Serse fed at least daily, sometimes more.
“Ohhhh…” Tyler whimpered, his hand sliding to his side, where pain spiked for a moment but then mitigated. He just had to hold on a little longer. He was trying so hard. He felt like Frisk and Sree didn’t even appreciate what he was doing. But could he blame them? They were literally starving. They were running out of time, same as him.
It took a while for his pulsing body and racing heart to calm down enough for him to fall asleep. But even then, he was restless.
-
Tyler awoke in the middle of the night to pain, his hands scrabbling at his shirt. He was so fucking engorged somehow. He pulled the hem up with his shaking fingers, releasing a shuddering breath as both of his nipples squirted. Tears ran down his cheeks as he fidgeted and whined, the combined discomfort between his chest and belly making the thought of sleep unbearable.
The lights turned on. Tyler looked up to see Sree standing near the light switch by the door. Even despite being watched, his hands continued to move, seeking out some sort of relief. He squeezed is one of his nipples, grunting as milk sprayed forcefully outward, but then the stream declined to a trickle.
“T-Tyler?” Sree stammered, looking astonished.
Frisk was awake and he was also staring as Tyler fidgeted on the bed. Tyler’s back was arched as he tried to make as much room for his breasts as he could; they were just so full and uncomfortable. His skin was flushed, body pouring sweat. “Ngggghhhhh!” he groaned as his breasts bounced with a sudden bout of tension, his mounds bloating visibly. He was just producing so much milk!
Tyler was sobbing by then, his nipples dark and huge. “P-please,” he pleaded. “C-can’t — I can’t take anymore. S-so full…” His breasts had rapidly grown to the size of cantaloupes, and were only getting larger.
For a moment, there was only stunned silence. Sree looked as though she was panicking.
But then Frisk stood. He hesitated, then tentatively approached. Finally, he seemed to form a decision, because he walked right over to the bed, leaned down over Tyler, and closed his lips over Tyler’s left nipple.
Tyler’s eyes went wide as Frisk’s dropped closed as the captain sucked, and Tyler groaned out, unconsciously taking hold of Frisk’s messy hair; pulling him closer, pressing the other man’s face into his breast. “Oh…” Tyler whimpered.
Tyler’s free hand went to his right nipple, desperately fumbling and squeezing, even giving a tug. He yelped. The milk output wasn’t substantial. The milk continued to accumulate with heat and weight, his face twisting in agony.
Sree hurried over. She pushed his hands aside and closed in on his right nipple, causing a wheezy noise to escape Tyler’s throat. He clutched both their heads as they suckled from him, strongly sucked, his head dropping back as the pressure stabilized. “Fuck…thank you…” he breathed, far past the point of humiliated. He couldn’t believe the things he had to do to endure the continuing transformation of his body. But as devastating as becoming pregnant had been, it had kept them alive up to this point. “Thank you so much.”
That night, they all found some form of relief.
-
“I found something,” Frisk said in the early hours of the morning. He spoke in a whisper, the three of them perched about on Tyler’s bed. “There’s a hidden grate in the back of the bathroom. You can feel it through the plaster on the wall. It’s narrow, but I lost weight.” He sounded a bit wry despite his monotone. It was true that he had grown terribly thin. “Once I get out, I can circle back and find this bedroom. I’ll unlock the door and let you guys out. It’ll be at night, and there won’t be any commotion. They won’t notice a thing till we’re long gone. The only delay might be navigating the building.”
“I can give you directions,” said Tyler, who had seen more of the building than the others. “It’s not too complicated. This place just has a couple of wings.”
Frisk nodded. “Perfect.”
“I feel a bit stronger,” Sree mused aloud, looking at Tyler. “And stupidly hopeful because of it. But maybe…maybe this could work.”
“But how do we get home?” Not that Tyler was certain what counted as “home” anymore. He absently rubbed the front of his huge abdomen. The prospect of escape sounded daunting, given his condition. But he had to try. They were all working against some detriment. Frisk and Sree were half-starved. He was massively pregnant. But they had to try.
Frisk said, “This is a little-known fact, but when Federation officers earn the rank of captain, they forfeit the luxury of privacy. I have a chip in my brainstem. It allows for certain, cybernetic, functions. There’s something in this atmosphere blocking external transmissions, but if we can get far enough away, I should be able to send a distress signal.”
“We would need to get off-planet,” said Sree.
“We would need to find a ship, or even a pod,” Frisk agreed.
It wasn’t going to be easy. Tyler pressed his lips and stared off.
-
It was getting harder just to walk. He had the biggest pregnant belly he had ever seen or imagined. He thought it resembled a beach ball by then.
He waddled heavily, clutching what he could of his belly, while using his free hand to grip onto whatever wall or fixture he could find. Though admittedly most of his time was spent in bed lately. A simple trip across the building would leave him winded and gasping, his body pouring sweat. Once, when he was being escorted to see Serse, he’d nearly toppled. So maybe Tyler should not have been surprised when the ruler came by one day rather than having Tyler summoned.
It was unexpectedly generous, yet born of self-indulgence. Without prelude, Serse went to the bed, climbed into Tyler’s arms, shoved Tyler’s shirt aside, and latched on without hesitation. He sucked greedily, his clawed hands even clutching and squeezing, forcing more milk into his mouth. Tyler grunted and squirmed as Serse fed from him. Tyler could feel his companions watching, staring uneasily at the display usually reserved to Serse’s private quarters.
When it was over, Serse stood back, licked his lips, then wiped his mouth. He strolled off without concern. Tyler was left slumped and gasping, holding his flanks as his children lurched, trying to recover from the onslaught of sensation.
His attention drifted to Sree and Frisk, as well as the horrified expressions they had donned.
“Nrghhh…” Tyler’s left nipple squirted, even despite having just been drained. Maybe something about his companions’ gaunt faces was fueling him, telling him this session wasn’t over yet. “Go ahead,” he invited breathlessly. He was capable of feeding, so they might as well. The Zulians treated him as little more than a meal. They might as well take advantage. Use it as a strength.
But Sree stepped back and Frisk shook his head.
“Please…” Tyler whined, gasping. Another squirt. “You have to keep up your strength.”
“It’s not for us,” Frisk responded, Sree leaning against the wall looking frightened. They wanted to avoid any conflict with Serse. After all, Tyler was the snake Lords personal banquet.
