Pet Shop, Part 11 - Female Version

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Summary: An animal breeder is cursed to start personally giving birth to supply her pet shop with animals. Contains: Female: belly expansion, breast expansion, lactation, multiple breasts.

Previous Chapter

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In only a few weeks, Maggie looked as though she was nine months along.

Her belly was large and round, but had the feel of an overfilled water balloon on the verge of popping. Maggie’s gait was incredibly awkward, and most of the time she actually took to supporting the mound with her hands.

“I can’t believe how awkward this feels,” Maggie huffed, as she waddled inside one evening. As usual she had her hands latched at the underside of her belly.

“Is this not normal?” said Tom neutrally.

“There’s just…no support. It’s low and awkward and killing my back.”

Tom raised his brow, as if to reiterate the question.

“No, it’s not normal,” Maggie grumbled as she eased her backside down on Tom’s expensive Italian sofa. She began to impatiently unwrap herself, like a present, Tom thought, till most of her belly was pushing out from Maggie’s tank top, heaving gently up and down in her lap as she sighed and leaned back.

“You should be done soon, I would imagine?” Tom said. He came over to the couch with two wine glasses, Maggie’s filled with sparkling water.

“Yeah,” Maggie conceded, though she looked uncertain. She absently rubbed her bloated skin with her hands.

Tom studied the mound. Maggie had been eating well. Both had been making sure of it. And she looked to be a healthy, at-term, pregnancy size. But it truly was impossible to tell when she would be ready to give birth. Were there even parameters on size in a pregnancy in which a human was carrying a miscellaneous number of undetermined animals? Certainly there was no determination on pregnancy length, what with more than one species being involved. Everything was up in the air, and for once, Tom could appreciate how terrifying this must have been for Maggie. But she hid her fear with her usual nonchalance, sarcasm, and bitterness. Tom’s gaze shifted back to Maggie’s strained expression.

“There are devices,” Tom noted. “Maternity girdles, and whatnot.”

Maggie blinked. “Oh.”

“I could pick some up.”

“You would—really?” said Maggie.

“Of course.” Tom got up to pour himself another glass of wine. “Anything to keep your cheerful optimism intact.”

And for once, Maggie laughed.

-

Maggie was slowly inflating.

Her back was sore, her skin was dry, her hips were tight, and her belly sat low on her pelvis. The girdles helped some, helped to control the bobbing mound and the strain on her spine, but it still did little to amend that fact that she was still rapidly growing with no end in sight.

But wasn’t this what had happened the last time? Maggie had looked overdue when she had finally gone into labor. Well, that was how Maggie looked now. This fact left her tense with anticipation, but at the same time, she tried to appreciate the arbitrary nature of things.

Christ, she was getting huge. Tom had largely taken over for her at the shop, but Maggie still popped in sometimes, because the thought of sitting at home doing nothing but getting fatter was as maddening as the thought of her fuck-buddy slowly stealing her business was.

Tom was all about changes. The uniform had already gone from green to mauve. He was rearranging the whole store, under the guise of making space for the “coming inventory.” He even had Dean calling him “boss” though that could have been pure sarcasm on Dean’s part. Regardless, Maggie found the whole thing unnerving.

One afternoon, Maggie made her way into the shop, her belly seeming to precede her through the door. By then she was blatantly huge, and pregnant, and waddling—there was no questioning it. She just hoped the hugeness of her abdomen drew attention away from how swollen her four breasts were.

Dean and Amelia stared at her, both not even bothering with greeting. Amelia opened and closed her mouth, then blinked hard several times. Both looked as though they wanted to say something, but didn’t know how to do it in a manner that was politically correct.

Grimacing at them Maggie made her way to her office.

Tom was sitting at the desk poring over some paperwork. He seemed startled when Maggie arrived, his pen dropping from his fingers.

“Maggie, what are you doing here? You should be resting,” said Tom, quickly getting up and guiding Maggie to the chair he’d vacated.

Once Maggie was plopped down, she shook her head, tugging at the buttons of her excessively tight blouse. Tom quickly went to close the blinds. Maggie didn’t bother with removing her belly from the uncomfortably tight pregnancy girdle—she didn’t want to deal with the ordeal of trying to get it back on. Instead she tugged the two bandeaus away from her breasts. She had stopped bothering with bras a week ago. The mounds were too tender and the wires were torture.

As if in response to being freed, all four nipples began to drip lightly. Maggie huffed. “I just pumped them,” she grumbled.

Tom licked his lips, but quickly averted his gaze. “What are you doing here?” he reiterated, peeking through the blinds as though he was the star of a spy movie.

“Just checking in on things,” Maggie responded, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “It’s still my shop.”

“Of course it is, Maggie—”

“Nrghhh…” Maggie grunted.

“Maggie, what’s wrong? Is it time?” Tom asked.

Maggie shook her head, her hand clutching the side of her mound. “No, it’s just…tight,” she said lamely, rubbing hard on her flank. A sudden spike of tension, that was all. But not a labor pain. It felt more like pressure. She grimaced, and arched a bit. “God, I need to get this off.” She picked at the girdle.

“Here, let me help you,” Tom approached.

“No, just—it’s fine for now,” Maggie lied. But both could see how the girdle was digging into her flesh, her belly clearly outgrowing it, pushing out from the top and the bottom.

“I got you that one last week,” said Tom thoughtfully. There was a beat of silence.

Maggie winced. Sitting was too uncomfortable right then. “Help me stand up for a moment.”

“Are you sure you’re not…”

“Don’t you think I’d know? Don’t you think I wish I was?”

Tom helped her to stand, and Maggie waddled over to the wall, where she leaned back against it, drawing deep breaths, in and out. She noticed Tom’s continued staring. “God, are you aroused by this?” she quipped.

“Would I be here if I wasn’t?” Tom snarked back.

Maggie smirked. “At least you’re honest.”

“I try.”

“You’re a sick individual.”

“Who said I wasn’t?”

The two smiled at each other, before Maggie stiffened and moaned.

It was that tightness again. The girdle was squeezing her, leaving her flushed and breathless. Maggie clutched at the mound, hunching. “Ohhhh…”

“Let me take it off.” Tom came over, reaching for the fasteners on the girdle.

“It’ll just make it worse,” Maggie protested, as she panted and rubbed her hands on the mound. A whimper escaped her throat as she tried to straighten up. “I’m not sure how this works,” she managed, grimacing. “But I think—I think things are still developing.”

Tom hesitated. “Better for us, right?” He tried for optimism. “More inventory.” Maggie felt him rub her back and sighed.

“Mmm,” Maggie hummed. Her breasts were dripping even more now. Her core was filled with heat and tension, accompanied by the chronic pressure and tightness that seemed to shoot to her loins. She knew she was aroused herself, tingling and seeping into her panties. She just hoped Tom didn’t take notice because he’s never let her live it down.

Swiping at the beads of sweat on her forehead, Maggie looked down and regarded herself. She imagined she looked overdue with twins by then, maybe larger. Probably larger. After all, she had the too-tight girdle on, compressing everything.

“Have you ever considered seeing a doctor?” said Tom tentatively. “Or perhaps a…a vet?”

Maggie’s head jerked up. “Are you insane?”

There was a knock on the office door. Maggie cursed lightly under her breath.

“Let’s sit you down,” said Tom.

Maggie agreed, and allowed Tom to help her back to her desk chair, where she gingerly eased down her massive body. The desk hid the lower half of her torso, and Tom helped her into a blazer to hide her chest. Maggie then hunched down, to appear as though she was examining the papers on the table top when she was actually just trying to hide her form.

Tom walked over to the door and opened it only partly. “Dean.”

“Boss, there’s a problem with a customer up front. She’s asking to speak to the person in charge.”

Maggie scowled but didn’t look up.

“Alright. I’ll be right there,” said Tom.

Dean’s footfalls faded off.

“I’ll be right back, Maggie,” Tom called to her.

Maggie didn’t lift her head, she just jerkily nodded. She heard the door close.

Maggie slowly straightened in her seat. On a small table beside the desk sat a water pitcher. Maggie poured herself a glass. She felt even more miserable than before, and wondered if coming into the office hadn’t been counterproductive. She felt uncomfortable and freakish, but there was too much money in this for her to do anything about it. She had to keep pushing. It was the least she could invest. Her bank account was heftier than it had ever been before. With a few more good litters, she would be rich.

A few more... Maggie’s heart sunk. She was putting her body through hell, and she wasn’t sure it was worth the money. She poured herself another glass of water, and arbitrarily shuffled through some folders. Everything at the shop seemed to be in order, at least through her fatigued examination. If it wasn’t, she’d be the first to know. Amelia couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it.

Maggie put her head in her hands, feeling exhausted. She counted down from ten then started the process of stuffing herself back into her clothes.

When she got home, she lay in bed on her side, and finally removed the girdle. The mound churned.

She dozed on and off, but hadn’t been able to properly sleep in weeks, that afternoon being no exception. After an hour she sat up again, and before leaving the bed, she struggled her way into the largest girdle Tom had brought her.

It wrapped around her gut, fastening at her back. It was still a tight fit, but not as bad as the last one. In consequence to its flexibility, it was slightly less supportive. Maggie heaved herself up, and walked around a little, hoping it would somehow trigger something. How much bigger can I get? She wondered as she frowned down at herself.

Maggie leaned on the living room wall, aimlessly rubbing her hands over her swollen form. Her loins throbbed hotly between her thighs, and the more she rubbed, the more her tension seemed to grow.

She panted lightly, her cheeks reddening and hips twitching. She could feel herself soaking through her second set of panties. What is wrong with me? she wondered, yet her fingers continued to roam.

They explored the bloated tender C-cups on her chest, which immediately began to seep in response. They explored her backside, which had taken on a fresh layer of padding recently.

“Ahhhh...” Maggie’s back arched by instinct as her belly tightened again. “Ohhh…” It was so overwhelming, she felt her legs giving out beneath her, and began to sink down the wall towards the floor as her mound mutinously throbbed forward.

Maggie gasped for breath, holding either side of the large, hot orb perched in her lap. “Fuck.” She struggled to get up, but every time she tried, she felt like she would burst right open. She moaned and clawed at the back of the girdle till the fasteners came undone, and her belly pushed free of it, looking even larger than before.