Pet Shop, Part 14 - Male Verion (Patreon)

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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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“What is it this time?” said Jack irritably as Tom closed the door behind him. “Trying to figure out what I’m carrying again? Looking at how fat, or low, or high it is, and making predictions?”

“They’re ingrates,” said Tom lightly.

“Yeah…” said Jack as he plopped down in his chair. He stared at his desk top, his cheeks reddening. “It’s not just that…”

“What’s wrong?” said Tom.

“I haven’t…” Jack swallowed. “It’s been a few weeks, and I haven’t been growing. At all. I know I’m fat, but—I looked like this ages ago after the last birth. It usually happens faster. Usually I see or feel some sort of change.” He indicated his stomach.

Tom came around the desk to lean back against it, and he reached down to stroke Jack’s mound thoughtfully. It was true that he hadn’t been growing much. His belly was a cute one, perfect for toting around without much discomfort. He looked five, or six months along. “We really do need to get you to see a vet,” Tom mused aloud.

Jack scoffed, “And have even more people in on this? We’ve made too many risks as it is.”

“I know you don’t like to talk about it, but we did take a loss with that last yield.”

Jack stiffened.

“We just didn’t have the facilities to accommodate all the species’ in time. You know we were working against the clock. Things could have similarly gone sour with puppies and kittens—actually, it’s a miracle it didn’t.” Tom looked at Jack fondly. “Much as it hurts me to say it, Dean and Mindy are right. We need to know what breeds we’re working with. Baby animals are fragile and have different needs—needs we have to be prepared for when you give birth.”

There was a lengthy silence, Jack glaring down, his fingers gripping at his thighs. Finally, he huffed, “Do you know someone?” He looked pained. “Someone discreet?”

“It’s going to cost us,” said Tom.

“Doesn’t it always?”

-

The veterinarian reacted very much the way the others had, with shock, skepticism, fear, and a healthy dose of dementophobia. It took a subtle combination of blackmail and cash offerings to get Dr. Sturges to begin a physical exam, which started with a sonogram. Jack laid back and determinedly studied the ceiling tiles.

His mind wandered in his uneasiness, wandered away from the exam that was transpiring.

He thought about all the new investors and partners, and all the money coming in from the consequential funding. If this was an end to Jack’s pregnancies, all the money would dry up. He didn’t know whether this would be a happy or sad occasion, but his contracts would dissolve, and people would be out for his head. He might even be charged with fraud and misrepresentation. His business would devolve into the old, quaint, failing shop it had been before, and he would go out of business if his parents didn’t come and take it back first.

On the plus side he wouldn’t be a freak anymore. It was hard to tell which option he would prefer.

“A squid,” said Sturges numbly.

Jack blinked out of his reverie. “What?”

“Well—that’s an approximation. I’ve never seen anything like it before. It’s going to take me a while to determine the exact species.” Sturges seemed fully distracted from Jack’s bizarreness, and was now clearly fascinated by whatever creature Jack was carrying. The vet began typing away at his tablet.

“So I’m still—fu—fuck,” Jack croaked in astonishment. He’d had squid eggs in his last litter. Had he failed to birth one? “Is it…alive?” Jack said, cringing.

“Oh yes! Don’t you feel it moving?”

“No. I mean I…” Sometimes Jack’s stomach was upset, but he had ridden it off as indigestion. In fact, he had gotten so accustomed to a chronically-churning stomach, he had stopped acknowledging it as a side-effect of pregnancy. It had become his new norm.

The doctor looked up from his tablet. “I imagine you want it, er, removed?”

Jack nodded urgently, his mortification swelling. “But I…” He didn’t know how that sort of interference would affect the—the spell. “Surgery?” he managed, oddly wishing Tom was there.

Sturges nodded, and pulled up a chair for himself. He proceeded to explain the ins and outs of C-sections as Jack nodded and tried not to flinch at the mentions of a knife cutting into him.

They scheduled the procedure for a week from that day. Jack went home, feeling uneasy. He was not sure how the thing had survived inside of him so long. The whole situation kind of grossed him out. He frowned and stared down at his small, firm gut.

Jack proceeded like normal, not mentioning anything about the debacle to anyone, not even Bennett. He assured them that everything was fine, and proceeding normally, according to Sturges. He put the whole thing in the back of his mind, even as his surgery date loomed ahead. It wasn’t until his gut writhed during a meeting, that he was reminded of the fact that he was incubating a well-overdue squid thing.

Jack groaned quietly. Around the table his shareholders stared, Bennet among them. Jack hugged his midsection and hunched down as he was assaulted by powerful bubbling pains to accompany the forceful lurching.

And then the pressure started up. It wasn’t an isolated contraction, but a slow blooming tension that warmed and filled him, until it was pressing at his flesh, squeezing and pushing, and he could actually see his belly rolling forward in his shirt.

Jack squeezed himself tighter, as though to push his belly back in.

But it was only rising, growing larger, with all his investors gaping at him in absolute astonishment. He staggered and swayed, his vision blurring. Tom jumped to his feet and said something, but Jack was feebly trying to wrap his blazer around himself and head for the door. He made one step forward, and felt himself beginning to fall, when Dean and Mindy burst him. Looking alarmed, they grabbed him by the arms and dragged him off. Jack could hear Bennett back in the meeting room, saying some placating words to the other investors.

Soon after his impudent employees took hold of him, Jack felt himself being eased down into an uncomfortably soft chair, and came to realize he was in the break room. He wheezed and pawed at himself.

His pants button snapped. He drew his newly tight shirt up over his tight belly, which was flushed red, and heaving. It was rising slowly, growing right before his eyes, higher, and fuller, and firmer. His skin burned and tingled and he could hardly breathe, as he watched his abdomen push past what appeared the nine-month mark. “Gonna—burst,” he wheezed out, grunting, gasping, as he clutched at himself. He arched and groaned, his belly jutting forward. Dean and Mindy both looked terrified. “Oh— goddd.” And Jack passed out.

-

He awoke sprawled back on a very firm bed. The industrial lights and tiled ceiling were only vaguely familiar. He was breathless, and struggled somewhat. Tom suddenly appeared beside him, and helped him shift onto his side. Jack was acquainted with the sight of a very-large mound—his mound. It was clear through the thin sheet draped over him. His belly was firm, tight, and larger than he had ever been with any of his previous pregnancies. He stared at it in horror and bafflement. It looked like he was ready to pop out quads, his skin still prickling as it had during the growth spurt.

Tom was rubbing his back, providing a vague comfort as Jack’s mind reeled in threat of imploding. “It’s okay...” Tom intoned. “Everything is fine, don’t panic…”

“Tom, what the hell just happened?” Jack hissed out breathlessly. He blinked around, and came to realize he was back in Sturges’ veterinary office. “Fuck, I’m huge,” Jack said, aggrieved, as he tentatively laid his hand on his belly. The skin felt hot and tender from the recent abuse.

People were talking. Jack looked around and saw that Sturges and Simon were quietly arguing on the other side of the room. Dean and Mindy were present as well, both staring at him owlishly, yet remaining a healthy distance away.

“Did you just use my first name?” Tom inquired wryly.

“Bennett…” Jack pleaded.

“Well the, um, squid thing,” said Tom inelegantly. “It laid eggs. A lot of them.”

It took Jack a moment to process it, and then there was a slow surge of horror. Squids weren’t unknown for laying thousands of eggs at a time.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tom went on.

Jack just marveled at his own form.

“Sturges thinks it’s an undiscovered species. Nothing like he’s ever seen.”

“I would agree,” said Simon as he walked over to them. “The eggs could be—important. They’re unquestionably valuable.”

Jack still just couldn’t believe how gigantic he was. He wasn’t sure he could get up.

“We need to do an emergency surgery right now,” said Sturges, Mindy nodding in silent agreement.

“We should wait and monitor him. See if things move along on their own, as with the other specimens,” said Simon, though he looked nervous, and kept glancing at Jack’s form.

“What if this squid lays more eggs?” said Dean uneasily. “Look at the size of him. He’ll fucking explode.”

“Dean,” Tom reproved, as Jack grimaced and struggled to shift up to a sitting position while keeping himself covered by the thin sheet. Tom at least made use of himself, and helped.

“I appreciate your concern,” Jack managed sarcastically, panting and flushed, now sitting up, with his large abdomen resting against his thighs. He knew his four breasts were being outlined by the sheet, with no compression to really hide their girth. His four nipples pushed out visibly against the crisp material, and they were surprisingly tender, so much so that his breath shuddered. He hadn’t felt that since he had been nursing the puppies.

“God, this is completely outrageous,” said Sturges, shedding any appearances of professionalism. “Anyone up for a drink?” He shuffled to one of his cabinets and began to tinker with some glass bottles.

“Jack, I really think you should, um, think about the surgery?” said Mindy, awkwardly attempting a smile, and it was truly odd to see the bubbly girl so disconcerted.

“What if surgery messes everything up?” said Tom in a reasonable voice. “He’s been giving birth naturally up to this point. And doing well at it.” His hand drifted to stroke Jack’s gut, causing Jack to tense, though he didn’t withdraw. The affection helped somehow.

“Just—just check him,” said Dean, sounding slightly hysterical. “See if he’s dilated or—whatever.” The boy’s face was scarlet.

“Enough,” said Jack, whose own cheeks felt rather warm. “Just—shut up. Fucking…I’ll think on it. T—Bennett, help me up.”

The weight was truly awkward. Once standing, he felt like he might teeter over. “Fuuhhh…” he groaned, clutching the underside of his mound. The sheet slid, and there was cleavage, and it was horrible, everyone standing around, ogling him.

“I’m fine by the way,” Jack managed, shifting his hips as he clutched Tom’s arm and tried to get acclimated to the sudden weight on his torso. “This is nothing.” He hastily jerked on a too-small top, then allowed Tom to help him waddle away to the garage, and subsequently help ease his swollen body into the passenger’s seat of Tom’s car. They had to push it back so Jack’s belly wouldn’t press against the dashboard.

Afterwards, Tom plopped down in the driver’s seat, looking a little breathless himself. Jack glared at him, as if daring him to comment.

“Good?” said Tom.

Jack sighed and leaned back, shaking his head. He lightly ran his fingers over the mound. The flushed, bloated flesh was bulging out of his T-shirt, which barely pulled down as far as his navel. “What a waste,” Jack grumbled.

“How so?” said Tom, starting the car.

“’the fuck we going to do with squid eggs?”

Tom pressed his lips in thought. “A novelty item?”

Jack scoffed, “Who the hell would want a weird squid as a pet? At best, we get arrested for illegal breeding. At worst, it’s dangerous, and kills one of us. Wait, no. I wouldn’t mind if it killed Dean.”

Tom’s lip twitched. “So what do you suggest?” He threw a long, idle gaze of Jack’s fat mound.

“Dump them like last time.”

Tom huffed but said nothing more.

“I’ll get Mindy and Dean to do it.”

“Right then.” Tom pulled out of the parking spot.

“A serious fucking waste. We can only hope for a more logical litter next time,” said Jack, wondering if he himself was also starting to treat him like a prized pig.

“I need a drink,” Tom noted.

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