Pet Shop, Part 3 - Female Version (Patreon)

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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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The Kurilian Bobtail still hadn’t sold. Once it got stronger, Dean and Amelia began to allow it to wander about the shop throughout the day. It darted in and out of corners, and rolled around, keen to play. It had had a rough start, but now it was thriving. It was among the final luxury kittens from Maggie’s litter.

Maggie jolted slightly one afternoon when she felt a light weight fall on her lap, small, sharp claws prickling her thighs.

She looked down at the bobtail. It trailed in circles, balancing itself in Maggie’s lap in a playful appeal for attention. It began to nudge at Maggie’s belly, purring and rubbing.

Maggie grimaced. That noticeable already? She looked down at herself. She looked as though she was five months along. With the aid of loose tops, and sometimes, light jackets, she had avoided too much notice. She also tried to spend more time parked behind her desk, delegating the grunt work to the grunts.

“What’s Bobby doing in my office?” Maggie called through the open door. That’s what they had dubbed the bobtail. ‘Bobby.’ Creative, of course.

Despite her distaste for animals, Maggie couldn’t help petting the kitten, gently, allowing her pointer finger to trail down its head and across its spine. The animal was still rather thin, but all was going well. Maggie was glad that it had survived regardless of whether it would sell. Maggie frowned as Bobby gave her another light belly-nudge. “It’s like you know…” she muttered irritably.

“You called?” said Amelia, poking her head into the office.

“Take this please.” Maggie lifted the cat and handed it off.

Once Amelia, and the Bobtail, were gone, Maggie got up to wash her hands, then maybe she would get a snack. She hadn’t forgotten about her primary duty to the shop, that being to keep her weight up.

-

As the days passed, Maggie ate greedily, even beginning to get used to her large and frequent meals. She limited herself to oily, fattening foods, and rapidly became addicted to the sensation of uncomfortable fullness. She made sure to always have a snack on hand, whether it was a milkshake, chips, or a few packs of packaged snack cakes. She was rather disgusted to feel herself getting steadily fatter, yet she knew it was for the best, and that it was temporary.

She was gaining weight quickly. Now she had to push her pants down below the curve of her mound, and trade all her jeans in for leggings. Her blouses and cardigans would no longer contain her, so she instead donned T-shirts with the shop logo—the ones that Dean and Amelia had to wear as their uniform—yet even the largest size seemed to hug her mound, doing little to hide her growing belly.

She already looked six months along. Her breasts were getting fuller as they had before, but this time larger. Sometimes her nipples ached, and she swore her ass was getting larger. It wasn’t long until she felt the weird squirms, not just a tickling, but true movement. It was more noticeable than with her last pregnancy, and Maggie could tell that this litter was stronger.

She looked about seven months along were this a human pregnancy. Not long now, Maggie thought in relief. She was definitely bigger than she had been the last time she had given birth. She could only assume that her efforts had been successful.

Maggie was proud of her hard work, but also rather disgusted with herself. She hated how obvious her condition was getting—all of her weight concentrated in her belly. And even with the frumpiest of sweatshirts pulled over her mound, Dean and Amelia stared at her, as did the customers.

Maggie spent most of her time on her ass in the office, her round belly hidden behind her high desk. It was only on those occasions that she shucked the unnecessary layers, cooled off, and tried not to look as flustered as she felt.

She was overheated. Her chest was aching again. Her back twinged, and the squirming was getting uncomfortably powerful and persistent.

Of the original litter, only the bobtail remained, and business was waning. Dean and Amelia kept pressing her about breeding more inventory, but she always changed the subject before they could get into specifics.

Breathing heavily, Maggie turned her gaze to the wide open windows of her office, and the open door. Dean was busily stocking shelves and Amelia was feeding the dogs. The one customer present was wandering aimlessly into the aisle of hamster toys, and Maggie couldn’t help it. She grabbed the hem of her tautly-stretched T-shirt, and pulled it up over her mound, allowing her belly to protrude beneath the desk.

She sighed in relief as her heated skin was exposed to the cool office air. She glanced down at herself to stare at her mound as it practically jiggled with movement where it sat in her lap.

It seemed unusual that unborn kittens could be so active, but what did it matter? This would all be over soon—no more than a few days, she presumed. She would provide her shop with a decidedly healthier stock of rare kittens, and then business would boom again.

As days passed, Maggie grew and grew. She waited anxiously but nothing occurred as days turned into another week and she still hadn’t given birth.

She continued to spend most of her time at work perched in her office, drawing up her shirt beneath her desk almost continually. She felt constantly flushed, hot, and just heavy, yet she found herself lethargically cramming food into her mouth on a very frequent basis.

She didn’t know if she was still pigging out for the health of the litter, or if she hadn’t just gotten accustomed to it. Her navel was bulging out like an oven timer to her embarrassment, her belly quivering with movement. She looked as though she was eight months along, which didn’t lend itself to any sort of discretion. She stopped socializing, shopping, or doing anything vaguely public, too embarrassed by her inexplicable growth. Her days were spent between her house and the store, and this couldn’t be over soon enough.

Just think of the money, Maggie told herself, leaning back in her seat, and closing her eyes. She laid her hands on her stomach and a large belch tore through her.

“Maggie?”

Maggie tensed and immediately drew herself up, hunching slightly over her desk to ensure that Amelia caught no glimpse of her belly. “What’s up?”

“I’m heading out. Just wanted to see if you needed anything else.”

Maggie opened her mouth to respond, but another belch escaped her. She blushed, sipped some water, but then just belched again.

Finally, she managed. “I’m—fine, Amelia. You can go.”

She didn’t miss the concerned expression Amelia gave. They were usually complemented by Dean’s looks of morbid fascination.

“Have a good night,” Amelia said, and walked off.

Only after Maggie had heard her close the shop and lock up, did she sigh, plant her hands to her desk, and slowly rise.

Her back stung. She grimaced, holding the underside of her belly. It was getting huge. What the hell was taking so long?

She did a final walk-through of the shop and balanced out the registers. Finally, she went to the parking lot, where she gingerly eased herself into her car. She did a stop at a fast food chain, and ordered a multitude of burgers. She ate distractedly as she pulled into her driveway.

Belched.

And ate some more.

-

The mornings were slow.

Waking was a reluctant, drawn out process. Maggie blearily gazed at her ceiling.

It was several days later, and she still hadn’t given birth. She stared blankly at her ceiling, wondering if she should just take the day off.

Her face was constantly flushed, practically glowing in an unpleasantly maternal sort of way. Her breasts were still bloating, her nipples achy and swollen, and ribs itching just beneath them, where she seemed to be developing a rash. There were two pinkish splotches on either side of her sternum. Just another side-effect of her supernatural pregnancy. Maggie absently scratched her chest, winced, and released a huff.

One of the worst parts about it was that all of the fullness and pressure was disturbingly…rousing. Feeling a rare surge of desperation and inhibition, Maggie slid her hand down her belly, beneath it, to her panties which were shoved low on her hips. She pushed the waistband down, sliding her hands down to her plump lips. She tried to relieve herself in a hasty, inelegant way, grunting in frustration as her arm strained and twisted awkwardly—she just couldn’t get a good angle. Finally, she gave up, dropped her arm, then laid there panting more from her exertion than any sort of pleasure.

This sucked.

Her belly was so full. It wasn’t hard, as with human pregnancies. It was flexible and soft, just oh so full, as though she was filled with thick fluid. It shuddered so much, she could hardly sleep. She looked as though she was nine months along, and she was starting to be able to distinguish the individual knots of the kittens. Often one pushed too hard against the surface, becoming a distinguishable bulge on her mound.

It was happening now. Maggie traced her fingers along the side of her stomach. It was odd, because the mound looked too large to be a kitten. Or maybe she had been carrying it for too long.

“Dammit,” Maggie grumbled, forcing herself upright.

She hissed in discomfort and immediately jerked up her shirt. Her nipples were aching worse than usual. The discomfort seemed to have peaked into a burning sensation. Maggie looked down at her bloated chest, and blinked at what she saw.

Both of her nipples were dripping milk.