Pet Shop, Part 7 - 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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“Bennett.” The name fell out of Maggie’s mouth.

The whole situation was surreal. Maggie was standing in the entrance of the pet shop in the middle of the night with one of her potential investors gawking at the second pair of breasts newly sticking out in her shirt just beneath the first pair. And all four were leaking gently, dampening the fabric, making the material adhere to her so closely there could be no denying the way her four nipples protruded erect against the material.

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

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

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

Bennett lightly shook his head, finally lifting his eyes to meet Maggie’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 make sure you were okay, I guess. I called your house number but I didn’t get through, so—”

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

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

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

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

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

Her back still turned, Maggie closed her eyes in irritation. “Please—just go.”

For a long moment, there was silence behind her, but Maggie heard the door neither open nor close. She knew Bennett was still there, waiting for a better explanation. The man wanted to intrude, and in consequence, threaten Maggie’s freedom and the puppies’ survival. Maggie just needed to get back to them. Her 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.”

Maggie sighed as she finally heard Bennett depart. She tentatively turned around and locked up the shop, leaning back on the door as she listened to the sound of a car pulling out of the lot. “This is a mess,” she grumbled to herself, before shaking her 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 Amelia would be back in.

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

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

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

By morning, she was so exhausted, she was almost scared to get up. “I took them back to my place,” she 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.” She dismissed Amelia’s offerings to come over and help with the feedings (if only she knew), and got herself off the phone as quickly as possible. She continued to doze and wake in a perpetual cycle. The puppies were sleeping more, and they were getting used to the feeding routine. Maggie rewarded her progress by extending the feeding window to twenty minutes per quartet, and there weren’t too many protests. It gave her five additional minutes of sleep per session, which was better than nothing. Her predicament was so ridiculous she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

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

She detached the latest four puppies and placed them in the dog beds to squirm around in a messy, lethargic pile. She 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.

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

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

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

As Maggie grudgingly worked her way through the lasagna, she wondered if she actually should have taken Amelia up on her offer. She could hardly take care of herself, let alone the puppies.

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

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

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

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

Setting the pastry box on the ground, Maggie carefully reclined, releasing a small belch as she hit her mound of pillows. She groaned and rubbed her bloated abdomen.

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

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

Maggie 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 she could find in her fridge. She 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 her on her feet for the time being, and keep the—the milk coming in. She was a little astonished by how depleting nursing was on her energy—she probably experienced it worse than normal women, considering she was nursing continuously, and not through two, but four breasts. The mounds were still gradually growing, which made her both disgusted and relieved. Disgusted, because the more they grew, the more visible they would become, and the more freakish she would be in consequence. Relieved, because it meant she was increasing her capacity for milk, and would be less likely to run out while she was nursing over the next few…days? Weeks? She sighed.

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

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

She idly rubbed her hips and torso, then curiously allowed her fingers to ghost over her tender nipples. A pulse of sensation caused her to arch as heat shot down to her lower stomach. Maggie panted. That had been…different. Her cheeks reddened as she felt herself seep.

Her fingers shook slightly in she slowly reached up again to explore—

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

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

It was from Bennett.

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

Doomed as she was, Maggie got a kitchen knife and mechanically cut into the box. She carefully reached inside, and pulled out…

A bra? Maggie 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. Maggie 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.