Delicacy, Part 3 - 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.

Previous Chapter 

-

Tyler passed out halfway through the bucket of slop being forced down his throat. The last thing he remembered was the tip of the funnel being shoved deeper, until he was practically choking on it.

When he came to, he was not sure how much time had passed. He was sprawled awkwardly on the bed, a heavy weight against him. The Zulians were gone. Tyler whined out pain, his belly tight as a drum. He rubbed it desperately, but the pressure was only growing. The mound trembled and shuddered outwards as he grunted in protest. He felt a hand on his arm and glanced up to see Sree beside him, trying to comfort.

“I c-can’t—” he choked.

“Shhhhh,” she urged, throwing a frightened look to the door.

But he was tight to bursting, the tension only surging. He was flushed hot, struggling to bear it all. He felt his belly shuttering forward under his grasp.

Everything went black again.

When Tyler came to for the second time, he was curled on his side. His insides lurched, and he groaned quietly as he opened his eyes. He gasped as he recalled what had transpired, and fumbled, then grunted, and whined.

But the pressure wasn’t as bad anymore. It wasn’t unbearable, like it had been before. Instead, it was just uncomfortable. Tyler looked down at himself. He couldn’t believe how swollen his belly was. He looked as though he was due with child already. He laid his hand against it carefully, and rubbed slow circles against the round expanse. Here he was, a pregnant man. He supposed he was far beyond the denial side of things. Now his greatest concern was saying alive.

“You’re awake,” said a small voice.

Tyler turned his head to see Sree seated on the floor, not far from the bed, her knees drawn to her chest and arms wrapped about them. To Tyler’s surprise, Frisk was also seated upright, leaning on the wall for support. He looked very weak, but he was conscious.

“How long was I out?” Tyler managed to ask.

“I’m not sure,” said Sree. “Maybe…twelve hours?”

Tyler felt his breathing thinning, his eyes shooting back down to his belly, where it stretched his uniform shirt to the point that the hem was drawn almost to his bulging navel. His round, pregnant flesh exposed. “W-what was that?” he stammered. “They f-fattened me?” He was truly being treated like an animal. Being groomed like a pig to be slaughtered. He shook with sobs.

Sree hurried back over to him. He didn’t deserve her kindness. She stroked his hair. “It will be okay,” she whispered. “We’ll escape. We will find a way out of here.”

The prospect was just too daunting. Tyler tried not to succumb to his tears. “H-how is Frisk?” he managed, pulling away from Sree and shifting his attention to the captain. “Sir? A-are you —?”

“Alive,” Frisk managed, his voice terribly hoarse. Through his eye that wasn’t swollen shut, he was staring at Tyler’s round midsection.

Tyler gave a bitter laugh. “There’s a lot you have to catch up on.” His stomach heaved. Eyes going wide, Tyler covered his mouth with his hand.

Sree helped him to stand, Tyler clumsy as he tried to adjust to the abrupt shift in his center of gravity. They went into the bathroom, to the toilet, where Tyler sank to his knees and retched, but nothing came up. Somehow he couldn’t purge the contents of his stomach even as his insides tensed and protested its still over-packed state. But at least it wasn’t painful anymore, and at least his skin was no longer prickling from the sheer tension. Tyler just gasped for a while as he leaned there, occasionally heaving. But he produced only spittle. It was like he was not physically able to vomit somehow.

He slumped back on the floor, against the wall, his hands absently rubbing into his belly, desperately rubbing. Only then, did he notice the increased prominence of the bulges on his chest. B-cups had surged up at least to C’s, nipples swollen and bulging hard against the tight cotton hugging him.

Sree helped him stand, his heaviness so new and jarring. He moved back into the bedroom, his stride slow and awkward. One of his hands settled on his back, against the new tension there. He didn’t want to be standing, not only because of his fatigue, but because of the strange sensations littering his body. He glanced at the bed. “You should lie down, Captain.”

Frisk looked at the bed, then back at the floor. He shook his head, just slightly. The man seemed broken. Or was he deliberating? In any case, he wasn’t inclined to speak, or wasn’t able. Not yet. Tyler wished there was something they could do for him.

He glanced at Sree. There were dark circles under her eyes, her skin pallid from its usual fluorescent glow. It occurred to Tyler that she and Frisk had not eaten. After all, there was no reason to fatten them, like Tyler.

“You take the bed, Tyler,” Sree insisted. “You should rest.”

“But you two—”

“You need to gather your strength.” Sree was already pushing Tyler towards the bed, and with his recent balance issues, he had no choice but to allow it. “We’ll need your help. When we escape. So rest. Please.”

He felt guilty to be able to rest with mild comfort on the mattress, but his body felt so awkward, he could hardly bear the thought of sleeping on the hard floor with the pressure in his gut and strain on his back. So he surrendered, easing himself down on the bed. He leaned back, cupping the swell with his hands. He thought he could still feel that frightening pressure, pushing at his flesh, causing it to throb with his breathing. A choking tension, squeezing and suffocating. His babies growing and stretching him. Tyler’s sleep was restless and littered with these preoccupations. He dreamt of growth; of being fed and fattened like a farm animal. He gasped awake to see sunlight pouring through the windows. It was a new day. He struggled to catch his breath.

Sree was sleeping, curled in the corner on the dusty floor. Frisk was still seated against the wall, his head back and eyes closed, one of his hands gripping his side, as though nursing of pain there.

Tyler looked down at himself. He cringed a little at the memory of what had transpired. And he thought he looked a little bigger again, since falling asleep. But less uncomfortably tight. He trailed his hand over his swell, to find that the skin was softer now, under less strain from food.

It was a bit less awkward to move around, his body feeling a little more natural. He gingerly got off the bed and walked over to the corner, where a water bowl sat. They were being treated like damn animals. But Tyler wasn’t thirsty. He’d had enough fluids force-fed to him the day before. He looked at the scant amounts of water, before crouching down and lifting the bowl, balancing it carefully, despite his precarious center of gravity. Tyler slowly rose, and walked, with the water, over to where Frisk was slumped. Tyler sat down next to him, touching his arm.

Frisk opened his eyes. They were narrow with pain.

“Here,” Tyler urged. “Drink some water.”

For once, Frisk didn’t refuse. He allowed the bowl to be brought to his lips, and drank greedily, droplets rolling down his chin. He even lifted his arms, with clear difficulty, joining Tyler in holding the bowl, trying to tip it farther, letting his mouth fill with water until he began to cough, some of it spilling onto his clothes.

“Easy,” Tyler urged.

The door banged open, causing Tyler to jump and Sree to jerk awake. More of the water spilled on Frisk, the bowl emptying. The dish shook in Tyler’s hands as a horde of guards marched into the room, one after the next. Then there was that table again. Tyler’s face flushed as they began to set it up with piles of dishes, perhaps even more than before. Oh god, not again.

“Get up!” one of the lizards snarled with so much force and animosity that Tyler trembled.

Despite his shaking, Tyler somehow managed to get his legs beneath him. He went over to the bed and eased himself down, sitting on the edge, his belly sinking against his thighs. His nipples tingled, and chose that moment to seep. Tyler looked down at his shirt in embarrassment. And his dick was hard, though he was oblivious as to why, as it throbbed where it was squashed beneath his abdomen. His cheeks burned.

“You have two options,” said the same lizard who had spoken before. “Feed yourself — or else, we will do it for you.” The Zulian lifted the cover off one of the dishes.

Both options were unappealing, but Tyler knew which one he preferred. After only a brief hesitation, his hand reached down to the table, fingers wrapping around a plump, gooey morsel of food. He brought it to his lips, and opened wide.

The food felt even heavier than it had yesterday. He tried not to whimper with disgust at what he was doing to himself. Starforce required their officers to be fit and athletic. Experiencing the initial growths of his pregnancy had been disturbing enough for him. But now he was exacerbating things drastically, getting hugely swollen and out of control.

Tyler stuffed himself relentlessly, whimpering as he felt lurches of movement. He wondered what this all was doing to his offspring. Insulating them? Fattening them? Hurting them? He didn’t even want to think about it.

A clawed hand reached down to cup his belly, causing Tyler to freeze up, his skin crawling. The Zulian patted the mound as he surveyed it. His snake tongue flicked over his narrow lips. “More,” he demanded, withdrawing his hand, his eyes still glued to Tyler’s mass. “More!”

Tyler tried to eat faster.

In his periphery, he could see Sree and Frisk staring on in silent horror. But Tyler just kept eating, mechanically, lifting one thing after the next, shoving them into his mouth in an endless cycle. He was already feeling full and weary, his belly growing taut with pressure. Tyler’s hands were covered in food, and so was his face, he suspected. He felt like an utter slob, moaning helplessly as he tried to gobble his way through soft meats, buttery doughs, sweet custards, and everything in between.

“Faster!”

Tyler was working as quickly as his arms and jaw allowed, rapidly enough that he barely managed not to choke. He yelped is the latest morsel was slapped out of his hand. Several lizards grabbed his arms and legs, forcing him back on the bed.

“Nrrghhhh…” His belly was flushed and sweaty, throbbing and aching, completely overpacked. “No—gnhhhh…” He watched on helplessly as a large bucket was lifted from beneath the table, and the familiar funnel was shoved into his mouth. The lizard in charge forcefully pulled Tyler’s head back, then came the onslaught of greasy substance, filling his mouth, as he gulped helplessly.

With every swallow, his body seemed to tighten, silent tears rolling down his cheeks as the tension grew and grew, his flesh tingling. He started to choke at one point, his back shuddering as his belly jerked out with force. But his captors just shoved him harder against the bed, and continued to feed him, continued to pump the substance down his throat. It felt like pure fat, stretching him tighter.

They got him to consume the whole bucket this time. When it was finished, he could no longer bear it. Goo and saliva rolled down his chin. His face was red, veins rising on his forehead. He couldn’t help arching his back, his belly so tight and pressurized, violently trembling as it visibly advanced and swelled. “Nghhhh…god…what did you do?” Tyler grunted out as the lizards watched on in fascination. He panted heavily but couldn’t seem to catch his breath. “Errggghhhh….mghhhh…my babies!” He was going to burst right open. There was another violent jerk. He screamed out, clutching his belly. A sharp pain. His vision blurred.

Then there was blackness.

-

He came in and out of consciousness. Moaning, drooling, gasping. He didn’t know how long this went on before he was fully awake again.

He averted his eyes from Frisk and Sree, too ashamed to face them, too disgusted with himself. He looked due with triplets. And god, he was still growing. He panted as he felt his skin pressing forward under the relentless pressure inside him.

The door opened and Serse strolled in with a full entourage of guards. “You’re awake,” the ruler said with a smug look. “About time I caught you conscious. You humans are quite feeble.”

Tyler hung his head, barely having the energy or the will for this interaction.

“My, have you changed, and in just a few days.”

Tyler tugged at his uniform, which barely served as a belly shirt by then. His breasts had swollen at least to D’s, and a steady trail of milk was seeping from his nipples, rolling down his torso.

“What is this fluid?” Serse asked one of his guards.

“Feed for the offssspring,” the guard returned. “It’sss a mammalian thing.”

“Curious,” said Serse. He walked forward, Tyler jerking to look up at him, just as Serse reached down, trailing one clawed finger at the junction between Tyler’s breast and belly. Serse lifted a droplet of milk, then brought his finger to his lips and tasted it. His expression was thoughtful.

Tyler’s stomach lurched. Visibly. He groaned, his children writhing. He watched in morbid fascination as his own flesh shifted and bulged in places. He clutched at it, face flushed, panting like a dog.

“Now you look like a proper breeder,” Serse noted. “Look at how we’ve improved you, a mother in all your glory. A proper pregnant bitch.”

Tyler looked away, ashamed and mortified.

“Maybe we should breed you again,” Serse mused. “Seems a waste not to save anything. Tell me, how did you get this way, human? What species did this to you?”

Tyler said nothing.

Serse lightly patted Tyler’s belly. “We will see ssoon enough.”