Pet Shop, Part 6 - 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

-

“I just need you to feed them, and—and maybe bring out the heat lamps,” said Maggie. She was jittery from fatigue. She averted her eyes from Dean and Amelia’s questioning looks. “Please don’t ask,” she entreated. She felt sore and exhausted, and was strangely unbalanced. She felt bereft of a constant presence within her. Cool and empty.

“Maggie…” Amelia started, looking uncharacteristically dour. This was, after all, incredibly suspicious. She frowned down at the squirming pile of newborn puppies. “How did these get in here? Where did they even come from? And—and your body—”

“I, um,” Maggie cut her off, throwing one last glance at the litter. She was glad that the puppies weren’t malnourished and unhealthy as the kittens had been, even if she had had to blow up like a whale to make it happen. “I have to go,” she said, walking out of the meeting room. She self-consciously tugged down her shirt. She should have worn a pillow or something beneath it to mitigate the profoundness of her abruptly-changed physique. “I’m taking a sick day. Just reroute my calls.”

Not waiting for a response, Maggie walked out of the shop. She climbed into her car, locked the doors, then rested her head against her steering wheel.

She should have been happy. The puppies meant a new wave of profits. She just couldn’t get over the stunning fact that they hadn’t been kittens but puppies—though there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with that. There was also the trauma of the birth, Dean and Amelia’s suspicions, the fact that a potential investor had actually caught sight of her in her bloated state—it was all very overwhelming.

There was the odd emotional emptiness she felt now that she wasn’t—pregnant—anymore, even though she should have been celebrating. There was the fear of what the two pregnancies could mean. That magic was real, and she was its defenseless victim.

Maggie drew a long, ragged breath, before finally starting her car. She pulled out of the parking lot and drove home, not without stopping at the local fast food joint for some burgers.

Feeling more ravenous than weary, Maggie pulled into her driveway and scarfed the burgers down, right there in her car. Then, on her final wisps of energy, she went into her house, collapsed to bed, and fell asleep.

-

When Maggie awoke, her alarm clock was blaring jarringly. A quick glance at the time told Maggie that she had slept through it by hours. She hadn’t realized how truly exhausted she had been.

Maggie sat up and turned it off, grimacing at how sore she still felt. She lifted her cellphone, and was alarmed to see that she had missed twenty-three calls, and had thirteen messages, the majority of them from the store. Maggie quickly called back.

“Hello?” said Amelia breathlessly.

“Amelia, what’s going on?” said Maggie groggily. She rubbed her chest, and winced.

“The puppies,” Amelia said, her voice tinged with frustration. “All forty-six of them—”

“Forty-six!?” said Maggie in shock.

Amelia was silent for a moment. “Yes. You…didn’t know?”

“Of course,” Maggie managed. “I—what’s going on? What’s wrong with them?” Her heart sunk though she wasn’t sure why.

“They’re refusing the bottled milk,” Amelia said. “Every one of them, and I don’t know why. I imagine they miss their mother. And Maggie, I’d love to have a word with this breeder of yours. Dropping off so many puppies before they can even survive on their own—”

“Keep trying with the bottles,” said Maggie, already getting out of her bed and looking for her uniform.

“Maggie…” Amelia choked. “I don’t think they’re going to make it through the night.”

“I—shit—” Maggie’s mind was spinning.

“I tried calling the local breeders to see if they had any nursing mothers available. Obviously, it’s a steep request. I’m going to reach out to the surrounding towns to see if—”

“Right, stay on that,” said Maggie, as she pulled on some pants. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” And she hung up.

Maggie held up her shirt, hesitated, then frowned down at her chest. She approached her mirror and nearly cringed at her reflection. She had two pairs of breasts on her chest, all four looking bloated and puffy, swollen almost to Bs. All four nipples were a dark pink, swollen, and dripping continuously. She knew if she pulled on the shirt it would be dampened in seconds.

Maggie leaned down to the top drawer of her dresser, cringing at the sensation of the extra mounds jiggling slightly. She grabbed two strapless bras and went to the bathroom where she folded layers of toilet paper into thick squares, which she tucked into each bra cup as strapped the bras on.

When she finished, Maggie appraised herself for a moment, standing there, wearing two pairs of padded bras. Her eyes slid down to her stomach, which was still somewhat soft and bloated. Frowning to herself, Maggie returned to her bedroom and pulled on her shirt.

She sped to the store in only moments, and walked inside, arms awkwardly crossed over her ribs. She passed Dean, who was ringing up a customer, to walk straight into the meeting room where Amelia was crouched down with the pile of puppies which were now evenly distributed to two dog beds. Three heaters had been brought into the room, making it uncomfortably warm. The puppies were squirming feebly, the ones who weren’t sleeping whimpering or squeaking in a way that made Maggie’s chest throb.

“You’re here,” Amelia said, looking up at her with tears in her eyes. She was holding a puppy bottle, and had been abortively attempting to get one of the infant dogs to latch on. There was a whole clutter of puppy bottles there, set upright in a tray of steaming water.

“Yes,” said Maggie weakly. “Why don’t you take a break? I’ll give it a shot.”

“I’ll make some more calls.” Amelia forced a smile as she straightened and walked off.

Maggie saw Amelia go to the register where she muttered something to Dean. The two glanced back at the meeting room to look at Maggie, worry evident on their faces. Maggie gave a pained smile and gently closed the door.

She sat down beside the dog beds, legs crossed. She lifted one of the puppy bottles, and gingerly lifted one of the dogs. She held it close and tried to urge it to drink, but the puppy refused the bottle. Instead it stuffed its pink little snout into her shirt and began to wriggle fervidly.

Maggie gulped. She had been dreading this.

Knowing that it was a matter of life and death, and also a matter of potentially losing valuable inventory, Maggie pulled off her shirt. Gingerly, she removed both bras one by one, to leave her awkwardly swollen breasts and protruding nipples on display.

The puppy in her hands hoarsely squealed in a manner that was almost painful to Maggie, her chest aching. She held the puppy to her nipple, wincing when it immediately latched on. Maggie slowly reclined herself supine on the stiff carpeting. She breathed, and took a moment to get used to the sensation of nursing, before reaching down and lifting another puppy to settle against her opposite nipple.

Maggie repeated this two more times until all four of her nipples were occupied by four mouths. Now the other forty-two puppies were whimpering and quivering, and Maggie felt frustrated by her inadequacy; the fact that she had been sleeping while they were starving, that she couldn’t properly nurture them because she only had four nipples.

“Feh…” she scoffed, holding her head as the four puppies continued to nurse. She had never thought her lack of nipples would suddenly be an issue for her, though stranger things had happened. Then again, probably not.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, resenting herself as she detached the first puppy, the creature squealing in protest. Maggie settled it back into a dog bed, instead lifting a creature that had not nursed yet. She repeated the process with the other nipples, giving each puppy three minutes or so, before starting over. She developed a strategy, using the dog beds to sort them out into the puppies that had fed recently and the ones who had not. Before long, an hour had passed, and though all the puppies had been fed, not one of them seemed satisfied. She extended the time per nipple to five minutes. The room was gradually darkening, the sun setting outside, and she was stuck on the ground, producing meal for the animals.

There was a light knock on the door. “Maggie?” said Amelia. The door creaked open.

“Wait—stop!” Maggie shouted, her heart in her throat. Thankfully, Amelia didn’t open the door any farther, and Maggie was baffled that she had forgotten about her employees and the store. “I think it’s the cold,” she said feebly. “The cool air seems to be bothering them. I’ve had some success with feeding them, but we need to keep this door closed.” She knew it was a shoddy excuse, but Amelia tended to ere on the gullible side.

“I’m glad to hear,” Amelia said. Maggie heard her inhale deeply, the door still open just an inch. “Can I help at all? I can slip right in.”

“I think a second person at this point might make them uncomfortable,” Maggie lied, wincing as the puppy on her lower right breast nipped at her. “I’ve got this under control, Amelia. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Amelia hesitated for a moment, before finally, thankfully, closing the door. Her words were muffled as she said, “Okay, well me and Dean are going to close up. Thanks so much, Maggie.”

“Thank you!” Maggie called back. She sighed in relief as she heard Amelia’s steps trail away.

-

Maggie was exhausted.

She found that if she squeezed her eyes shut, she could pretend that none of this was happening to her.

Though generally not a fan of animals, Maggie was educated about breeding well enough to know that newborn puppies ate continuously. When they weren’t sleeping, they were feeding. She had already been sprawled there for hours, and this was quickly becoming a full-time (overtime?) job in itself.

Maggie supposed that she could take the puppies back to her apartment. As busy as she was running the shop, she might have to take a few days off.

She had attempted to ease some of the drowsier puppies onto the bottles, and had found some success, to her relief. As she got them all sated, and accustomed to nursing, she could slowly acclimate them to the bottles one by one. And if that presented an issue, she could even try filling the bottles with her milk. Maggie wrinkled her nose at the thought of milking herself. Every day of this magical breeding seemed to pull her deeper into a madness she could not easily get out of. But if she really had to, she could get one of those maternity breast pumps, and—eugh, it was all so disgusting. Even as she lay there, at the shop, in the middle of the night, her chest felt hot, tender, and somehow bloated as well. She was not sure how her body kept up with the constant demand for milk, but her breasts certainly felt fuller on the occasions she uneasily cupped one against her palm. She feared they were swelling to accommodate more milk and more nursing.

There was suddenly a knocking noise that pulled Maggie from her thoughts. It sounded as though it was coming from the front door, which was odd, because it was two in the morning, and the shop was decidedly closed.

Maggie shut her eyes and tried to ignore it, but the knocking only intensified, until someone was absolutely pounding on the entrance.

It drove Maggie anxious. She wondered if it was the cops. Would they arrest her? What would she be charged with? She was sure there was a crime somewhere in the black hole of freakishness she had recently buried herself in.

What if it wasn’t the cops, but someone trying to break in? That seemed even likelier, considering there was no reason for anyone to know that Maggie was still at the store.

Maggie hastily detached the four puppies presently nursing from her, ignoring their squeals as she settled them into the dog beds. Thankfully, the majority of the puppies were sleeping and wouldn’t be roused by their fitful siblings. If someone was breaking in, Maggie at least wanted to be composed.

As she got up, her chest felt heavy and awkward as it rocked slightly. Maggie impatiently pulled on her shirt, and hissed at the sensation of the material dragging on her swollen nipples.

Grabbing a canister of pepper spray from her purse, Maggie crept to the front door and flung it open.

When she saw who it was, she was so surprised, she dropped the canister, and let her arms hang, her breasts protruding in the front of her shirt.

It was Mr. Benette. The young potential investor who had sighted her form just before the puppies were born.