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Delicacy, Part 10 - Male Version
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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.
-
Tyler successfully birthed all sixteen of his plump, healthy, fifteen-pound babies.
The trauma of everything he had been through during the pregnancy, the pregnancy itself, and the delivery, left him bedbound for weeks. Physically, he was healthy, albeit exhausted.
When he finally got himself up again, he studied his reflection in the full-length mirror in the diplomatic quarters he had been set up with in Glork. It was odd to see his body back to near-normal proportions, aside from the huge breasts jutting out on his chest. His belly remained rounded and soft, making him look as though he was still six months pregnant with one child, though it was squishy and a bit saggy as well.
He would take it.
Etro gladly took custody of their dozen-plus babies for the time being as Tyler tried to sort himself out, both physically and emotionally. He did not return to work; he didn’t even know if he would have been welcomed back by Spaceforce. So for the time being, he just tried to adjust to his post-pregnancy, post-Zuul life, and to the trauma of it all. He spent some time with Frisk and Sree, but mostly kept to himself, alone. He took residence on Glork for the time being as he tried to figure out how he felt about the offspring, and determine if he could ever be a part of their lives.
The Glorkians welcomed him as some sort of celebrity, which was all the more incentive for Tyler to stay in, keeping to himself in his modest dwellings. He was fatigued of the attention. Fatigued of everything.
He grew ill over time.
It was an odd and befuddling ail, in sharp contrast to his full, plump state of pregnancy. He started losing weight at an alarming rate, and growing weak as well. At first he had thought it was just his body self-correcting, but in a matter of weeks, he had grown quite thin. To add to this, his body temperature was several degrees above the norm, leaving Tyler feverish; always flustered and sweaty.
Even odder, he was aroused. His blood was pulsing, body yearning for contact. Sometimes he would find himself gazing hungrily at some Glorkian diplomat, before abruptly shaking himself out of his reverie, terrified with himself. Wasn’t that what had gotten him into this mess in the first place? Yet the arousal was undeniable. He was always breathless, hard, fidgety, and needy. He needed contact. He needed…he needed something. Someone. He felt empty.
It was these thoughts that made Tyler truly concerned. He suspected hormone imbalances, and perhaps Glorkian food just wasn’t sufficiently nutritious for humans. Tyler tried to eat more, though it didn’t help with the weight loss. He finally caved and consulted with some local physicians, though they could not find anything that would explain his symptoms. They said he 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 neither reabsorbed nor shrunk, as would be expected in these cases. 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.”
Tyler was stunned. He 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.”
Tyler went numb. He walked away from the appointment, wordless.
Yet he continued to get sicker. He spent several weeks at his quarters, in bed, hardly able to function. When he did get up, there were dizzy spells, and so the gaps between his wakefulness grew larger. Tyler slept a lot. He slept through his worries. Until one day he awoke to find himself in a Glorkian medical facility. He looked groggily at the tubes and wires that littered his body, not feeling any better than he had when he’d closed his eyes. But he was awake. That was something.
A medical technician was surveying him. He saw that Tyler 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…”
Tyler swallowed. The dryness of his throat sent him 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 him. “We can prolong your life, but these measures are no solution. Eventually, you will be depleted. Even our technology cannot stop that.”
Tyler stared at the ceiling. He knew he couldn’t fight this any longer. And he knew what his body wanted. Maybe even his subconscious, on some secret level. And so, he 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 kids 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.
“He’s in the kitchen.”
“I’ll see myself there.”
There were a lot of rumors circulating Spaceforce regarding what had truly happened to Tyler. Some said he was booted for perversions which included whoring himself out to various alien species’. Others said he was obsessed with breeding. There were the few who believed that Glork had hired him 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 Tyler didn’t seem to mind it.
His face lit up when Frisk walked into the kitchen.
Tyler was seated on a chair, his face bright but exhausted. His belly was full and round, perched in his lap, wider than the rest of him, larger than a beach ball. He was constantly touching it, cupping it, rubbing it with his fingers, in an idle, habitual way. His cheeks were flushed, face dewy. He truly looked like a mother.
“Captain,” said Tyler.
“You know it’s Frisk, Tyler. Always Frisk.” Frisk took a spare seat at the table. “I’m not your superior or even your equal. You saved my life.”
Tyler’s face flushed. “Right.”
“How are you?”
“Good,” said Tyler, his fingers tracing circles on the side of his 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,” Tyler added, looking even wearier as he 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 Tyler with a wistful look in his eyes. “Glad to hear.”
Frisk appraised him for a moment, fondly, but curious. “Are you happy, Tyler?” he wanted to know.
Tyler looked a bit surprised. He reached out, fidgeting now with a glass of water on the table top. Frisk could see his belly shift at the top, Tyler 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.
Tyler sighed. “I’ve got a house full of kids…” he mused with an uncertain smile as he looked down into his 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.” Tyler gave the baffled grin, like he was questioning these things as he said them. Like he was incredulous, even then. “But…I think I’ve had enough adventure for a lifetime. Yes, I think I am happy,” he concluded, his smile softening as he met Frisk’s eyes.
The End
