Pet Shop, Part 7 - Male Version

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

Previous Chapter

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“Bennett.” The name fell out of Jack’s mouth.

The whole situation was surreal. Jack was standing in the entrance of the pet shop in the middle of the night with one of his potential investors gawking at the newly blatant B-cups sticking out in his shirt—all four of them. And all four were leaking gently, dampening the fabric, making the material adhere to him so closely there could be no denying the way his four nipples protruded erect against the material.

The whole thing was a mess, and there was absolutely no leverage for deniability. Jack felt his face heat, his throat tightening as he tried to think of what he could say, but there was no scenario he could imagine in which he wasn’t arrested or just blackmailed for his freakishness.

“I saw your car in the lot,” Bennett managed, his voice high. His eyes were pinned to Jack’s chest, occasionally darting down to Jack’s still somewhat-flabby stomach. “What…what is all this?”

“Why are you here?” Jack responded tightly. He wanted to wrap his arms around his torso and cover himself up, but he suspected it would sting unbearably, tender as he was after all the—the feeding. Additionally it would probably just make the leaking worse, though he wasn’t sure he could afford to waste any more milk than he already was as he stood there. He had forty-six puppies to feed after all.

Bennett lightly shook his head, finally lifting his eyes to meet Jack’s. “I wanted to speak to your more about your proposal. And with what happened after the meeting, I—I couldn’t stop wondering—I just wanted to see what was wrong with you. Make sure you were okay, I guess. I called your house number but I didn’t get through, so—”

“I’m okay,” Jack clarified, averting his eyes, his cheeks heating more. “You can go now.” Though the suggestion was stern, there was no hiding the entreaty in his words, his voice weakening at the very end, complementing this whole, queasy situation.

Bennett fell silent for a moment. His eyes dropped back down to Jack’s chest, drinking him in. “What’s…going on,” he said quietly. “You…your body…”

“Just go!” Jack shouted, trying to close the door, but Bennett was already partially in the entranceway, and he wasn’t backing off. Irritated, Jack spun around to get his tits out of Bennett’s scrutiny, but he groaned as they jiggled, and instinctively brought his hands up to cradle his lower two breasts, both of which felt so hot and bloated against his palms. He couldn’t believe how rapidly they had swollen up, but he supposed it was consistent with both human and animal pregnancies.

Jack wanted to storm out of the room, and return to the puppies, where he should have been, but he was concerned that Bennett would follow him, and it was yet another revelation Jack was unwilling to indulge. At least not yet. It would soon be obvious, if it wasn’t already clear to Bennett that Jack was birthing the inventory.

And on some strange…almost maternal…level, the thought of sharing his puppies with this untrustworthy stranger caused Jack’s stomach to knot up. Yes, he knew the whole idea was to sell them, eventually, but they were still so young, not even a day old. He couldn’t allow this outsider to interfere.

His back still turned, Jack closed his eyes in irritation. “Please—just go.”

For a long moment, there was silence behind him, but Jack heard the door neither open nor close. He knew Bennett was still there, waiting for a better explanation. The man wanted to intrude, and in consequence, threaten Jack’s freedom and the puppies’ survival. Jack just needed to get back to them. His four nipples ached just at the thought.

“We’ll discuss this later,” said Bennett softly. “I’ve seen your business plan. I know how heavily your next two quarters will depend on investments, and I’d say an explanation is the least you could offer.”

Jack sighed as he finally heard Bennett depart. He tentatively turned around and locked up the shop, leaning back on the door as he listened to the sound of a car pulling out of the lot. “This is a mess,” he grumbled to himself, before shaking his head and returning to the meeting room. Thankfully most of the puppies were still sleeping. This situation very obviously wasn’t working. In only another few hours, Dean and Mindy would be back in.

Jack went into the back room and found some padded puppy carriers, wincing as his sore nipples rubbed against the material of his shirt. Working as quickly as he could given his sore hips, tender breasts, and exhausted body, Jack carefully packed the puppies up, ignoring the squeaks of protest and whines for sustenance, even as his milk surged and rolled down his abdomen. He packed them into the back of his car and drove them off to his house.

Jack returned the puppies to the two large dog beds he had brought with him, and tried his best to make a nest for himself on the floor beside them, but it was still uncomfortable and unforgiving to his back, which was still tense from the pregnancy. Feeling too nervous to put the puppies on the bed with him, Jack did his best to get comfortable on the ground. And though he wanted to do nothing other than pass out and sleep for a full week, he set up his phone alarm to go off every fifteen minutes.

For the rest of the night, Jack would gasp awake at the sound of the alarm, and become reacquainted with his miserable predicament. He would move four puppies off him and four on, cradling them carefully into place before drifting off to sleep again, by then accustomed to the perpetual suckling on his nipples.

By morning, he was so exhausted, he was almost scared to get up. “I took them back to my place,” he said hoarsely into the phone. “I think they’re doing well in the new environment. I’m going to take a few days off to take care of them.” He dismissed Mindy’s offerings to come over and help with the feedings (if only she knew), and got himself off the phone as quickly as possible. He continued to doze and wake in a perpetual cycle. The puppies were sleeping more, and they were getting used to the feeding routine. Jack rewarded his progress by extending the feeding window to twenty minutes per quartet, and there weren’t too many protests. It gave him five additional minutes of sleep per session, which was better than nothing. His predicament was so ridiculous he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

By late afternoon, though he was resigned, Jack knew that he couldn’t just spend all his time laying on the floor. His nipples were starting to hurt with the sucks, and the puppies seemed to be having more difficulty feeding from him, now releasing frustrated snorts and squeaks—he feared he was running out of milk. In addition to that, he could feel himself growing progressively weaker. He felt ravenous and dehydrated.

He detached the latest four puppies and placed them in the dog beds to squirm around in a messy, lethargic pile. He couldn’t believe how much weight they had put on in only the past day. They really did look healthy compared to the kitten litter.

Jack then slowly, reluctantly, climbed to his feet, grasping onto whatever furniture he could. He stumbled his way to the kitchen, his vision darkening around the edges. He grabbed a loaf of bed and a jug of water out of the fridge, bringing them with him to the table. He needed calories if he was going to continue to do this.

As Jack sat there at the kitchen table, sleepily forcing down the bland meal, he knew it wasn’t going to be enough. Not for nursing forty-six puppies. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and made an order from his favorite Italian spot, then ordered some pastries from a bakery down the block. He wasn’t ordinarily big on eating, but he would have to force it down.

Over the next hour, Jack continued to languidly eat the bread until he heard the doorbell wring. He pulled on a thick winter coat, which made no sense given the warm weather, and blearily paid for his food orders, before carrying them into the kitchen and dumping them on the table.

As Jack grudgingly worked his way through the lasagna, he wondered if he actually should have taken Mindy up on her offer. He could hardly take care of himself, let alone the puppies.

But the thought of bringing anyone else in of the secret was horrifying to him. The pregnancies had been temporary, but now he had breasts. Two pairs of them!

Trying not to think about it, Jack ate the remainder of the lasagna, stuffing it down until he felt uncomfortably bloated. It was a serving fit for eight people, but he managed to get it all down, and followed it with a half-gallon of milk.

He probably should have been eating healthier, considering things, but that would have been pushing it, in his irritable, exhausted state. Taking the remaining food—a large box of pastries—under his arm, Jack got up and trudged back to his bedroom. He could hear that the puppies were awake and back to squealing, his nipples aching accordingly. It was still so strange to carry around their four individual weights wiggling on his chest. They were again hot and tingly, uncomfortably bloated, and he could feel the heaviness of engorgement.

“Ohhh…” Jack groaned as he eased himself down on the floor, holding his tight stomach, which had formed a small belly from all the food he had gorged. Binging probably hadn’t been the best idea, but he had few other options. He didn’t exactly have time to get up and snack throughout the day—not if he wanted all the puppies to thrive.

Setting the pastry box on the ground, Jack carefully reclined, releasing a small belch as he hit his mound of pillows. He groaned and rubbed his bloated abdomen.

He then got right back to nursing, reconfiguring his phone alarm to extend the feeding window to twenty-five minutes per quartet of puppies. Every so often, Jack would stuff one of the cream-filled pastries into his mouth. He got accustomed to the routine, and was getting slightly more rest as he continued to extend the feeding window over time. By the next morning, the puppies were content enough with forty-five minute feeding intervals.

Jack needed a break. He felt sore, grimy, and disgusting. He had gotten used to the squealing by then, and was more comfortable with leaving the puppies alone than ever before. He felt that they were out of the danger zone in terms of nutrition, each one of them growing rapidly, as healthy puppies tended to.

Jack went to the kitchen and hastily made a huge smoothie from yogurts, butter, heavy cream, protein powder, cereal, sugar, whipped topping, pudding powder, milk, and whatever other high-calorie crap he could find in his fridge. He arduously gulped down the thick, sweet, gelatinous substance over the course of twenty minutes, trying not to retch the whole time. Hopefully it would keep him on his feet for the time being, and keep the—the milk coming in. He was a little astonished by how depleting nursing was on his energy—he probably experienced it worse than women did, considering he was nursing continuously, and not through two, but four breasts. The mounds were still gradually growing, which made him both disgusted and relieved. Disgusted, because the more they grew, the more visible they would become, and the more freakish he would be in consequence. Relieved, because it meant he was increasing his capacity for milk, and would be less likely to run out while he was nursing over the next few…days? Weeks? He sighed.

The sensation of his four swollen nipples rubbing against his shirt material was almost unbearably uncomfortable, but so was walking around his apartment topless, having to look down at the mounds at any given moment.

Pressing his lips, Jack went to the bathroom and filled the tub with hot water. He quickly got undressed and sunk down into the bath, sighing as the heat soothed his tense body.

He idly rubbed his hips and torso, then curiously allowed his fingers to ghost over his tender nipples. A pulse of sensation caused him to arch as heat shot down to his lower stomach. Jack panted. That had been…different. His cheeks reddened as he felt himself harden.

His fingers shook slightly in he slowly reached up again to explore—

The doorbell rang. It couldn’t have been a worse time for a visitor. He reluctantly climbed out of the bath and pulled a thick robe around himself. He crossed his arms at his chest in a guise of holding the robe closed, before rolling his shoulders forward and hunching over his mounds, before opening the door just slightly.

It was just a package. Jack reached down and took the box, before quickly closing the door again. The package was light. He brought it to his kitchen table, his shoulders stiffening as he glanced at the sender label.

It was from Bennett.

By impulse, Jack wanted to throw it away. What if it was blackmail material? Had Bennett somehow gotten a photo of him that night at the shop? Or maybe Bennett just wanted to make demands of him. Several worst-case scenarios ran through Jack’s mind, but none seemed consistent with Bennett’s sending a whole package.

Doomed as he was, Jack got a kitchen knife and mechanically cut into the box. He carefully reached inside, and pulled out…

A bra? Jack stared at it. There were several of them, some with straps, but most strapless, and they weren’t slinky and perverted, instead, almost…practical. They were soft, some with padding; they were…maternity bras. Jack continued to stare at them blankly.

And at the bottom of the package was a small handwritten note that read:

Let me know when you’re ready to talk.