Delicacy, Part 1 - Female Version

Story Directory: $5 Patrons
Story Directory: $10 Patrons
Story Directory: $20 Patrons

Story Schedule

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.

-

Wendy was a low-ranking language officer. A junior lieutenant, still fresh out of the academy. Not long ago she had aspired to be captain of her own ship.

Lately, Wendy didn’t think that was in the cards for her anymore.

Nowadays she tried to keep her head low and stay to herself.

Though her position entailed a lot of desk work, Wendy often had to do field work as well. Translating for her superiors was cardinal to diplomacy missions. It was the fundamental purpose of Starforce. Exploring new worlds while forging alliances along the way.

“Anything interesting?” asked Fah behind her.

Wendy pulled off her headset and craned her neck to offer Fah a grin and a shrug. “Haven’t heard anything in days. No news is good news I suppose.”

“No news is dull,” responded Fah as he walked out of the science wing, metal doors sliding shut behind him.

Wendy sighed. She was content with ‘dull.’ Living on a spaceship, traveling galaxies at constant hyperspeed, was sufficiently exciting for her. Though it did have its downsides.

Enrollment in any division of the intergalactic military was long-term, but Starforce had a lack of downtime. Even when Wendy was off shift, she had superiors swarming around constantly. There wasn’t much privacy. It wasn’t as though she could go for a walk in a park or frequent some place other than the metallic rooms and corridors of the ship.

Perhaps this longing for freedom was what had gotten Wendy into trouble in the first place. After three years in Starforce, she had felt as though she needed a reprieve from the synthetic environment and professional greetings. So during her last planetary venture a few weeks back on a peaceful planet called Glork, things have gotten a little too…loose, on a free weekend. Wendy had joined some other officers in exploring the capital city, fraternizing with the locals, and indulging in libations. It had been fun. Too fun.

Wendy cupped the curve of her stomach.

She had managed to keep her condition a secret so far, but her belly was only growing. And this wasn’t a human pregnancy. It was progressing rather fast.
If her superiors found out, she would be stripped of rank, dishonorably discharged, and possibly even have to serve some jail time. She would never work for Starforce again, that was certain. She would probably never be allowed back on the inside of a ship.

She didn’t know what to do. Her options were nonexistent, and she wouldn’t be able to hide this for much longer. There was no explaining her way out of this. Sexual relations while on diplomacy missions were expressly prohibited. The intricacies of different alien cultures were just too expansive to allow those sorts of indulgences, not mentioning the political connotations that could become involved. It was better to just ban it entirely. Starforce officers were better off bedding each other than outsiders.

It actually made a lot of sense, in hindsight. There weren’t many species’ out there that could get a human pregnant, humans being too simplistic, too unevolved. Three at best. And being than no one of those species’ worked on the ship, and the Glorkians happened to be one of them, it was obvious how and when Wendy had gotten impregnated.

Wendy had read up as much as she could on parental law in Glorkian, but there was little documented information, and even less that she could understand despite being an inter-planetary linguist. The culture was just too esoteric. At this point she didn’t even know if it was legal that she had custody of this thing inside of her, or what the repercussions could be for taking it off-planet. But its home would be Wendy’s home too, right? Earth. Oh god. That sounded so domestic. Wendy was a Spaceforce Lieutenant. She had no intention of ever returning to that backwoods dirt pile she’d come from.

What Wendy did know from her studies was that Glork procreation tended to be quite…productive. Pregnancy was fast and usually yielded a lot of offspring. Litters. Wendy didn’t know how this would apply to her, as humans usually only incubated one fetus at a time. Humans were capable of carrying multiples, though, and it wasn’t uncommon. Wendy was not sure what any of this meant for her. It was all a mess. She had to come clean to her superiors but she was terrified.

At least no one had noticed. At least she didn’t think anyone had. She knew she was gaining weight, the curve of her belly too firm. She was showing, and it was really beginning to press into her uniform. Wendy could hardly button her skirt anymore. It looked like she was getting fat, too fat for Starforce. She was surprised that no one had commented yet. Another inch and she was certain it would be obvious. Another inch and her secret would be out.

The transponder on the central radio began to beep. Eyebrows furrowing, Wendy put on her headset and adjusted the station for a clearer feed.

“What is it?” someone said to the left.

Wendy threw a glance back to see that Fah had returned.

“A beacon,” muttered Wendy. “It’s an emergency transmission. Notify the captain.”

-

It was a distress signal from Zuls, a small planet that sat far outside of Federation territory, but with whom Starforce had always had amiable relations.

“I can’t get a signal through,” Wendy reported on deck where she had been summoned.

“I suspect it’s famine,” said Commander C’drru. “Starforce warned Zuls of the dying star in its solar system twenty years ago. They still have a century but drought would be severe. Zuls has always been resistant to alliance-based aid.”

“Perhaps it’s time to renegotiate,” said Captain Frisk.

“We can’t get a signal back to base. We have no satellites this far out. No towers, no allies.”

“As far as getting supplies, we’re three months away from the nearest Federation post,” piped in a young pilot.

“Let’s see what we’re working with, then. Land and do some reconnaissance.”

“That may be unwise, sir,” said C’drru. “To show up empty-handed.”

“We can’t ignore their signal. And we can’t react if we don’t know exactly what’s going on.” The Captain had made his decision. He gazed forward into the depthless space hanging in front of them. Planet Zuls looked so small; it seemed more like a moon. It was a bright maroon color, the glow of the dying star behind it making it look as though it was on fire. “Prepare for landing.”

-

Wendy and Fah were among the three language officers selected to disembark with the captain, in addition to all pilots, the first and second officer, several members of the medical team, and a few security personnel.

Aside from the security, the group was largely unarmed. They had no intention of presenting themselves with an air of animosity. They did not want to antagonize an already difficult situation.

“Commence with disembarkment,” said Frisk.

The doors began to open.

“Sir, there is something wrong with the internal coms. All transmissions are offline,” said C’drru, pressing buttons on a panel.

“Electrical systems are malfunctioning, sir,” said another officer. “Central computer powering down.”

“Frisk, engine four is showing damage! I think there’s interference. The ship is compromised, we have to lock down!”

It was too late. The door was open and all communication systems had been hacked or jammed. A swarm of reptilian aliens poured into the ship, hissing orders in a wispy language. It was similar enough to Polumium that Wendy could make out the words.

“They’re telling us to move out,” said Wendy weakly.

-

Wendy survived the initial purge. She supposed there was still a need for translators. For the time being.

She was not sure how many of her crew mates were left, but she estimated it was just the four of them. Her, Fah, an engineer named Sreemun, and Captain Frisk himself, who wasn’t looking too commanding lately.

The Captain was in bad shape. Daily, he was dragged out of the cell by armed guards, then returned in the evening with even more wounds than he had had previously. He had barely been conscious the past two days. Wendy was not sure how much more he would be able to take.

Wendy, Fah, and Sree were given manual labor work all day and some nights. Much of their time was spent at a junkyard salvaging metals, or sometimes the remainders of their own ship. Other times they worked on an industrial farm that was largely barren. They were tasked with digging through the parched earth for viable soil, but it was a pointless endeavor. The planet was dying, the people gaunt and weak. When Wendy was allowed food, it was barely scraps, all stale or rotted. She alternated between waves of dizziness and those of fatigue.

It was a surprise that she was still growing. Her belly, particularly. It had not seemed to have slowed down. Glork offspring were relentless, and it was good but also nerve-racking. She was getting strange looks from the guards and her cellmates. One day she caught Sree just staring blankly at her abdomen.

Wendy awkwardly folded her arms against it. She averted her eyes, not knowing what to say.

“The Federation will find us,” said Sree eventually.

Wendy slid down the wall. She was doubtful. No one even knew where they were and they were likely presumed dead, like the others. Rescuing them would hardly be worth the risk. And had to have been weeks since their disappearance. It was time to accept their fates.

“Just wish I would stop growing,” Wendy mumbled, putting her face and her hands.

The cell was windowless yet it was never really dark. It was below the earth, with a coolness that hung in the air accompanied by the stench of dust and mold. It was oddly spacious, as though it had previously accommodated a great number of prisoners. But now it was just Wendy, Fah, Sree, and the Captain between his beatings.

Wendy did not know why they tortured the Captain so diligently, but she sensed a resentment against Starforce or perhaps the Federation as a whole. She felt her pulse pound whenever the cell door opened or closed.

She looked pregnant now. Blatantly pregnant. Her comrades would just stare at her at times. Thankfully, the Zuls did not pay enough attention to Wendy to notice it. Yet. Wendy did not know what they would do once they found out.

She was terrified. And the anxiety was getting the best of her. She could no longer sleep much, instead twisting and writhing on the cold stone in her corner of the cell. She would doze and gasp awake after only moments. But it was preferable to the nightmares.

Her body was changing in other ways. It was just was getting softer. Plump.
Her clothes could no longer accommodate her. She had tied her waistband with a piece of rope she had gotten at the scrapyard. But her belly was bulging out under her shirt, and as much as she tried to cover it with her folded arms, her efforts were getting fruitless. Even the guards would scrutinize her now. And when she was working, her belly was impossible to hide.

Her stomach lurched and grumbled loudly. She had begun to feel… something. A pattering inside her. Things were just progressing so rapidly. One morning she woke up with two damp spots on her shirt.

As her nipples stung, Wendy realized what had occurred. She quickly folded her arms against her chest, then winced, and realized that now nothing was covering the bulge of flesh beneath her taut shirt. She curled down around herself and the shame of it all. When she looked up she noticed that not only were Sree and Fah looking at her, but also Frisk through swollen eyes, his face almost unrecognizable because of how battered it was.

“Captain,” said Wendy, sitting up with some awkwardness. “You’re awake.”

Captain Frisk was slumped in the corner on the dirty wall, looking so weak and broken. The man Wendy had looked up to half her life, just this feeble shell of a being.

Frisk opened bloody lips, but only produced a hoarse, dry coughing. He was dying. Sick and starving. Before Wendy could think, she started crawling over. She pulled Frisk’s head towards her chest, started tugging down the collar of her own shirt. Freeing a breast. She had milk. She could help him.

The cell door banged open. Wendy jerked back.