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Delicacy, Part 4 - Female Version
🕑 Added 2022-01-16 03:21:16 +0000 UTCStory Directory: $5 Patrons
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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.
-
The following day, Wendy was given some clothing, to her surprise. The fabric was simplistic and crudely put together, but at least it covered the shame of her swollen body. It loosely fell over the swell like a maternity garb. The Zulians didn’t bother giving her a new skirt, so Wendy stuck with the one she had, though she had long past outgrown the hem. It could neither zip nor button, and was shoved low on her hips by the jutting swell of her belly. She had managed to find an old piece of rope to keep it from falling off her, yet it seemed to get tighter by the end of every day, and she found true relief when she took it off before she fell asleep.
It quickly became apparent why Wendy was being allowed the dignity of clothing.
She was dragged out of the room, struggling not to topple as she panted and sweated while a guard pulled her through the fortress. Her arm that wasn’t being gripped at the elbow was curved around her huge swell. She had accumulated all this weight so rapidly, she hardly knew how to support it.
Finally, she was shoved into a room. Wendy whimpered, managing to grip onto a wall to keep from falling over. She hunched and panted for a moment, before slowly looking up to blink around at the scene. Serse was present, as were several other Zulians, dressed nearly as finely as he was, all seated together around a large table. There was also a foreign alien with flesh that was gold and glistening, almost having the appearance of melting.
“Translator,” Serse addressed Wendy, which was a surprising change from “bitch,” which seemed like Wendy’s nickname lately. “Look over those forms. Ensure that they match.” Serse nodded to some papers lying at the edge of the table.
“I assure you, the contracts are identical. The same trade stipulations on each,” said the foreign alien and a sharp, unpleasant, accent.
Wendy timidly waddled over to the table. She rapidly scanned the papers with her eyes, one set of forms in the Zulian language, and another in Candourian, a language that was popular in sector 312. Wendy guessed that the Zulians could not read Candourian.
Wendy unwittingly managed to catch the foreign diplomat’s attention.
“A human?” the golden alien said.
Wendy nearly flinched. She pretended not to have heard the being, continuing to peruse the papers. Candourian was not a Federation language, and sector 312 was neither under Spacefoce nor Federation jurisdiction. Wendy shed any hopes that she might be rescued. More likely, she could get herself into deeper trouble.
“What are you doing in these parts?” the foreigner asked Wendy.
Wendy was too terrified to speak.
“The human is employed here,” said Serse.
“But she’s — pregnant! How is that even possible?” the golden alien went on.
“She’s a plump one,” said Serse. “Humans are such greedy little creatures.”
But the diplomat was not duped. He opened his mouth, as though to say something more.
“They match!” Wendy blurted. Her sweaty hands were gripping the edge of the table, but also leaning on it for support. Her insides were lurching.
There was an uncomfortable pause, before one of the Zulians who had been silent up until then, said, “All iss settled then. I will walk you out, Ig’No.”
The Zulian stood. After a moment’s hesitation, the foreign alien, Ig’No, stood as well. After the two had departed the room, Wendy assumed that she would be escorted out as well.
But that did not occur. Instead, the half dozen Zulians remaining there just leaned back in their seats and surveyed her.
“The creature growsss fatter and fatter,” one said. “Almost ready for the feasst.”
“Not nearly,” Serse hissed back. “We can push it further.”
“I do not think thiss pregnancy can progresss beyond this point, Serse. This creature iss the size of a byttleknot. Clearly the litter is larger than thiss breed is equipped to handle. Humans are so ssimplisstic, sso unevolved.”
“How many do you think it’ss carrying?” another said.
“It depends on the sire’s species,” said Serse. “Whore, show us your progress.”
Wendy’s hands were shaking, but she undid the ties on the garb, allowing it to fall open so her mound bulged through.
The Zulians made wispy, animalistic noises, perhaps indicating approval. Then they continued to mutter amongst themselves.
“But what alien speciess can impregnate a human in thiss galaxy? Ssurely this wass intentional.”
“Perhaps it was the heat.” One of the Zulians stood, starting to approach, and Wendy had to fight the urge to back away. She was still holding the garb open, hands still trembling visibly.
Serse rose as well, then all six of them were getting up, crowding around Wendy. She felt trapped, her breathing thinning. Her nipples stung then began to seep into the tunic.
Serse reached out and prodded Wendy’s belly. An offspring began to visibly kick on the surface, causing Wendy to grunt out as the others laughed.
“It produces more of the feed,” Serse noted. “When it’s trapped. Like an offering.”
“Intriguing.”
“It is quite the luxuriouss fluid. I would favor another taste, though I am not sure how this human’s body even…works,” Serse admitted.
“A strange creature, yess,” someone supplied. “But my understanding iss that the milk is taken directly from the sssource.”
Hesitating just a moment, Serse reached out and tore open the remainder of Wendy’s top, causing Wendy to release a surprise noise, clutching at herself. But her arms were shoved aside, her plump breasts exposed as they released steady droplets of milk. Wendy breathed heavily, the mounds quavering slightly. They were D-cups, swollen round and flushed, nipples hard and aching, the nubs having at least doubled in size since this whole thing started.
Serse closed in, wrapping his lips around Wendy’s right nipple, causing Wendy’s eyes to flutter closed. She half expected to feel teeth or fangs, but Serse just sucked, causing Wendy to groan, her legs becoming weak beneath her. And as awful as this was, she couldn’t deny the relief of the surplus decreasing, the tight, hot, pressure declining, as Serse drank greedily. Wendy felt woozy.
“Delicious,” Serse murmured against Wendy’s flesh. And shameless as it was, Serse moved on to the left breast, sucking and drinking, with his own officials standing by, watching.
-
When the guards threw Wendy back into her corridors, she fell to her knees, but managed not to hit her belly. Her vision seemed to blur, her body overheated. And she realized, that she was hungry.
“Wendy, are you okay?” she heard Sree fret nearby.
Wendy ignored her. She could hardly focus on Sree’s voice. Instead Wendy crawled, struggling to drag herself towards the bed. Her belly was scraping the floor.
She could hear Sree continuing to yammer over her, but Sree’s voice was muffled now. Wendy just had to get a few inches farther.
Then there was blackness.
-
When Wendy awoke, she was curled up on the hard, cold, floor. Her body was sore, her back especially. Her chest felt hot, and her belly was aching. It gurgled and she groaned. She shouldn’t have been hungry again, not after being forced to binge the day before. That had been more than a week’s worth of food.
And yet she felt so starved it was painful. She looked up to see Sree hovering over her. Wendy didn’t even bother to ask how much time had passed. This was becoming a regular occurrence.
Sree helped her up. It took some awkward maneuvering with the protruding weight of her belly. The mound was so awkward and obtrusive, feeling too large to possibly belong there. Wendy managed to ease herself onto the bed, body heaving with her heavy breathing.
She noticed the table was back, piled with food as usual. Quite a lot of it. But when Wendy shifted the tablecloth, she could find no bucket beneath the table. She looked around the room. No guards either.
“They dropped it off a couple hours ago,” Sree explained, wringing the hem of her uniform top with nervous fingers. “They couldn’t wake you up. It’s probably cold by now, but —”
“You should eat,” said Wendy. Sree looked pale and gaunt. “Captain Frisk too. Please.” Wendy turned her attention to the captain, who occupied the same spot of the floor as usual, lips chapped, eyes weary. The man looked so uncharacteristically frail. He had already given up.
The captain shook his head.
“You’ll starve,” Wendy protested.
“It isn’t for us,” said Sree, giving her a meaningful look. She seemed terrified.
Wendy winced as another hunger pain radiated through her abdomen. Her insides squirmed, her…her children displeased with her. Wendy was worried about her companions but she could hardly focus through this need.
“God, they’re hungry. They’re so hungry,” she said apologetically, sobbing as she ate with vigor. She stuffed food into her mouth as though the guards were still present, demanding it of her. She just needed food. She needed it inside of her. To feed her babies. Something went down the wrong pipe, and she coughed into her hand, while rubbing her belly with the spare. She could hardly see through the tears in her eyes, but grabbed up whatever she could, stuffing it between her lips and gulping it down. The flavors didn’t matter. Nor did the discomfort. Her belly gurgled more.
“It’s okay,” Sree reassured, somewhere far, in Wendy’s periphery. Her cheeks bulged, but she continued to pack them with food. Chewing, gulping, and stuffing more into her mouth. Feeling her belly tighten every time she swallowed. She moaned.
Wendy was three quarters through the miniature feast when she finally paused to breathe, or rather gasped, as she gripped her churning belly. The hunger was no longer so intense that she couldn’t think of other things.
“I don’t —” A large belch erupted from her throat. She wasn’t used to being conscious after her binges. Usually she was so overfed that she just passed out. “— don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She hiccupped.
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” Sree sat beside her and stroked her head. “A human carrying an alien child. You’re a miracle.”
“I r-really messed up,” Wendy choked. “On Glork.”
At this, the captain looked their way, seeming surprised. But, as usual, he said nothing.
“You are human,” Sree murmured softly. “You have…needs, and impulses. Perhaps spending years traveling space was too ambitious.”
Wendy’s cheeks burned in mortification. She had been one of few humans to ever be allowed employment by Spaceforce, yet had been a prime example of why her species probably wasn’t worth the trouble. She had made such a mess of things.
“We are alive because of you,” Sree said. “I am not sure why, but…they will not kill us for now. Not as long as you’re still alive.”
“Please eat,” Wendy practically whined. She didn’t want to think of what she would do with the remainder of the food if they didn’t.
Sree shushed her. “That food is for you. For your children. Do you want us to get killed?”
Wendy felt so stuffed with her belly perched on her lap, so warm and tight. It shelved her round breasts. She couldn’t believe that they were already engorged again, and perhaps somewhat larger than they had been previously. The mounds were hot and tender, their discomfort rivaling that of her belly. Wendy thought of what Serse had done. “Then let me feed you. From — from my body.” Her cheeks burned. “I — I am producing milk. A decent amount.” She clasped the front of her tunic.
Sree bit her lip. Wendy knew it took everything Sree had to resist. “We shouldn’t.”
The door banged open. Their heads whipped in the direction of two guards marching in. With no warning, they seized Wendy by the arms. Wendy cried out in discomfort as she was pulled off the bed, belly still tight to bursting. The fact that it was two guards towing her helped with her balance, but did not make the walk any more comfortable, especially on a full belly and painfully engorged pair of breasts. Her belly bobbed with her clumsy stride, and she fought not to retch. Milk seeped into her top, and her back strained as she struggled to keep her feet beneath her. At the times her foot slipped, her shoulder took the brunt of her weight, and felt like it might rip from the socket if she was pulled another inch.
Finally, Wendy was deposited in a room she had never been to before. It was broad and warm, even cozy-looking. It was carpeted, with some chairs, tables, and an armchair, the rough plastered walls decorated with intricate tapestries. She made her way to a couch and eased herself down, gasping. One hand clutched her back and the other rubbed circles on her belly. She swore, she looked as though she was due with quads. The two guards stood facing the door they had just entered through. They were waiting for someone.
It felt like half an hour later that the door opened again. Serse strode in, his gaze moving immediately to Wendy. Serse licked his lips as he slowly approached.
Wendy knew what he wanted.
“The bitch looks famished. Prepare its next meal. This won’t take long.”
With curt nods of their heads, the guards marched off.
Then Serse sat beside Wendy on the worn couch. “The feed you produce is quite delicious. It seems you create many palatable things.”
Wendy would not refuse. She would not give them an excuse to hurt her or her companions anymore. If anything, she was giving up something that was burdensome anyway. She clumsily reached up and opened the front of her tunic.
Serse drank greedily. He sucked so hard that Wendy winced, and drained Wendy with a rapid force that made her shudder. Afterwards, Wendy’s breasts were cooler and lighter, but aching all the same. Serse had not been gentle.
Her breasts felt as though they were pulsating. Every time they were drained, they seemed to grow larger. Wendy did not know if it was from the stimulation, or if it was just the natural course of her condition. Developing more milk for the children she would never meet.
Serse was panting, himself, his face twisted in a manic grin that showed fangs. “She’s ready,” he called.
The door burst open, and several guards filtered in, two of them carrying that familiar bucket. Wendy’s body tensed, but she was resigned to the outcome. The funnel was shoved into her mouth, and the bucket tipped. She started to gulp.
