Pet Shop, Part 21 - 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

-

Maggie’s parents stared at her for a full moment. Slowly, their mouths broke into uncomfortable smiles.

“What a bizarre suit,” said her mother, giving Maggie the oddest of looks. “It’s a bit obscene, isn’t it, dear?”

“I thought you were past this sort of thing, Maggie. You’re not in college anymore,” said her father, giving a glance to the three huge pairs of breasts heaving on Maggie’s chest, before averting his eyes again. “Is this get-up for us? Amusing, but how did you know we were in town?”

Her parents pushed right past her, letting themselves in as usual. Leaning hard on the wall, Maggie helplessly watched as they strolled towards the living room.

“Oh my!” said her mother.

Maggie hurriedly wobbled after them, straining, red, and close to tears. She felt like she was going to burst. “Fuhhh…” she breathed as she regarded the room in their perspective. There was a massive, industrial-sized bowl filled with buttery mashed potatoes that she had been munching on. A documentary on mammalian breeding habits was playing loudly on the television. And worst of all, a variety of dildos in outrageous sizes were lying on the couch. Sturges had given them to Maggie, warning Maggie to prepare for a potentially huge birth. Tom had found the whole thing to be amusing.

Maggie grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and quickly threw it over the dildos, though the damage had been done. She stood there huffing audibly, lungs burning, body arching as it straining to support her own weight. The stress and discomfort had her close to tears.

Despite it all, one of Maggie’s hands slid to the small of the back, cupping her tail bone to conceal the curled pig-tail that must have sprouted up during her last labor. Of all the things to be embarrassed about, she thought in self-deprecation. “Wh-what are you guys d-doing here?” she panted out, already strategizing ways to get them to leave.

Her parents were terribly awkward. They looked around the messy house.

“The m-maid’s coming later,” Maggie forced out. And by maid, she meant Tom.

“We…heard that business was going well,” said her father, returning his gaze to Maggie.

“Thought we’d pop in and surprise you,” Maggie’s mother added.

It was certainly a surprise, though not one that Maggie considered pleasant.

“Maggie, take that off. You look ridiculous.” Her father gestured to Maggie’s hugely swollen abdomen, and abundance of breasts, and nipples. “You can barely walk.”

“Are you…okay?” Her mother was paying more attention to her sweaty face. “Maggie, are you on something? You don’t look well.”

Maggie felt like she might collapse.

Maggie’s gut gave a forceful heave and she nearly toppled. The nipples on her belly strained worse and squirted, causing eight patches to form on the hugely stretched shirt she was wearing.

“Nrrghhh…” Maggie clutched her stomach, her hips shuddering. Of all the times, she had to go into labor now.

She felt hot and suffocated. Her fingers unconsciously gripped and tugged at the material that contained her. Soon the shirt was drawn up, her huge mound protruding outward, her fat wet nipples bulging from the distended flesh, spread farther apart from the sheer size of her mass. They all squirted again in unison, this time in the air, in opposite directions, Maggie gasping as the mound shuddered with another vicious contraction.

She arched, pushing her belly out even more, whining quietly like a wounded animal, the six breasts on her chest wobbling, burning hot, and tight, completely straining with milk.

“Maggie, what on earth—?” her mother shrieked, her father looking completely aghast.

Maggie couldn’t have explained the situation had she tried. She desperately wanted to sit down, but knew that if she perched herself on her ass, she probably wouldn’t be able to get back up before things got started. There was nowhere to lie down in the living room. She was too big to lie on the couch.

She felt a cool hand on her skin, causing her to shiver. Maggie opened her eyes and looked at her mother.

“It feels…real,” her mother said, looking utterly mystified. Her fingers trailed against Maggie’s flushed bolder of a mass. “W-where are the seams? M-Maggie?”

“It’s real,” Maggie groaned out, panting, crying, as she slowly struggled her way down to her knees so her belly perched on the floor. Whatever was inside her felt so heavy, and utterly massive. She choked out a sob. She could feel her insides shifting and her ass swelling. “C-call T-Tom,” she practically whined, nodding to her phone, which lay across the coffee table.

“Maggie, what the hell is happening to you?” her father demanded.

“We have to call an ambulance,” her mother insisted. She was crying as well, and getting hysterical.

“Please…don’t—gaahhh!” Maggie yelped as something shuddered low in her gut. “Hahhhh…hahhhhh…just c-call Tom. My boyfriend,” she pleaded.

“Maggie…”

“Giving birth,” Maggie wheezed out. “This is…it’s why the shop is doing well.” But then Maggie couldn’t speak any longer. She completely dissolved to tears as her belly clenched with pain and she struggled there on the floor.

-

Maggie labored all night. She grunted, moaned, and sobbed through most of it, with the occasional wail or whimper depending on the scale of the pain. The labor went into the following morning, and she was hardly conscious of the people in and out, checking on her, whether it was Tom, Sturges, or her gob smacked parents. She was shifted or repositioned, fingers prodding and intruding at her opening as she begged whoever was listening to put her out of her misery.

The worst part of it was that the creature had crowned hours ago. But with every inch that it proceeded, it just seemed to grow larger, till the pain was sharp and acute and she was certain she would tear. She felt like most of the labor was spent pushing at a large animal that had already partially exited, her body practically convulsing with contractions as it tried to progress. She begged the others to pull the thing out, but they refused.

With every push she felt as though it was splitting her. She was slumped in a puddle of sweat, milk, and tears by the time the labor ended, more than a full twenty-four hours since it had begun. Maggie lay limp, boneless, completely motionless. She had finally given birth.

To a foal.

It was white.

-

This made it three times in a row that she had given birth to near-worthless inventory. A single horse wasn’t going to bring in much money and Maggie was doubtful that there was even a market for it in the area.

Things were getting out of control. There was nothing vaguely practical about her condition anymore. All that work for nothing. She felt almost traumatized, not merely by the labor, but by the meaningless of it all. And the fact that it would keep happening.

When Maggie finally went back in to the office, everyone looked vaguely horrified. No one would even meet her eyes. Even Tom’s positive spirits couldn’t lift everyone up. But then, Tom was rich. The stakes were lower for him. Maggie overheard Dean talking to Amelia about trying to selling his stocks.

Maggie felt like a failure. She began to dedicate even more of her time to looking for the goth guy who had cursed her, even going as far as hiring a private investigator, who she only interacted with by phone. But she wasn’t optimistic, and the investigator additionally warned her not to be.

The horse was put in the stables of one of Tom’s properties. Maggie had suggested they sell it off, but Tom seemed quite fond of it. As long as Maggie didn’t have to see or hear about it, she supposed it was fine. The horse was just another reminder of what a mess she was in.

Maggie was not talking to her parents. Or rather…they weren’t talking to her. At all. They had all but disappeared, leaving not even a note as to where they had gone off to. Probably somewhere far.

Her parents were decidedly disturbed. Maggie would give them some time. Perhaps a lot of it. After all, how could she expect them to accept what she had become when even she couldn’t? Her parents had looked at her business success, then at the state of her body. They had never been superstitious, but after witnessing the birth of the horse, they suddenly had a deep and daunted sense of spirituality. They thought Maggie had taken to devil worshiping.

One day, Maggie was sprawled on her living room couch, where she spent most of her time these days, when her cell phone began to vibrate on the coffee table. Maggie lifted it and was surprised to see the name of her private investigator flash across the screen. She selected to answer, and pressed the phone to her ear, “Any updates?”

“I’ve been looking into local high school, colleges, and youth centers. I even called some jails and rehabs. Of course, there were the gothic and punk stores at the local malls—”

“Get to the point,” Maggie interrupted, absently pawing at the heaviness in her gurgling stomach. She was getting rather desperate to start digging into the three-gallon container of cookie dough ice cream she had melting on the table in front of her. She also had a date with the new episode of Swamp Nudists, her favorite reality TV show.

“I think I found him,” said the investigator. “Black painted nails, dark hair, combat boots, participates in online witchcraft communities. Does he have a teardrop tattoo on his cheek?”

Maggie went rigid. She couldn’t believe she had forgotten that detail. “Yes,” she breathed.

“Then this is probably your guy. Tell me when you’re ready for the address.”

-

Maggie was absolutely buzzing. Her adrenaline was pumping. It was dizzying, but it also fueled her. She wrapped herself in her largest overcoat. She wasn’t too big with her pregnancy, though the material did little to hide the huge breasts stacked on her chest. Still, Maggie was too excited to care much about her appearance at that moment. She was grabbing her keys and just about to head out to find goth guy, when her phone rang. She answered distractedly. “Yes?”

“Maggie, you need to come over.” It was Tom. “My house in Cobar.”

“This is a bad time.”

“This is really, really important.”

Maggie wanted to curse. “This better be good.”

“Trust me, it is.”

Maggie could hardly focus during the drive. Tom’s townhouse was out of the way by a whole forty-five minutes. He had closer apartments and properties. If this turned out to be a waste of time, Maggie just might deck him.

She pulled into the gates which were wide open for her. When she parked her car on the expansive driveway she immediately saw the stables on the west of the house, and grimaced.

Tom appeared next to the car, opened the door, and all but pulled Maggie out.

“It’s fine,” Maggie resisted the aid. “I’m not huge yet.”

Tom raised a brow at her, as though to ask if she was quite sure.

Maggie followed Tom to the stables, which were occupied only by the newborn white foal. “What is this about?” said Maggie in annoyance. She couldn’t help looking the foal over. It seemed healthy enough.

“Anything seem odd to you?” asked Tom.

“No. Tom, this is a waste of…” Maggie trailed off as she finally noticed the horn. Or the start of one, protruding from the forehead of the foal, in the perfect spiral. It was a silvery white color and almost seemed to glow. Maggie felt herself gawking.

“It’s growing a horn!” Tom exclaimed.

“W-what?”

“It’s a fucking unicorn!”

“What…the…fuck.” Maggie was astonished. She didn’t know what to do with this information. “Is it magical?” she asked stupidly.

“Maggie this whole situation is magical,” said Tom, laughing uncharacteristically, all giddy and hysterical.

They spent the whole night talking. Tom even let the unicorn in the house, where it immediately began to slobber on the fine Italian furniture. Tom tried to get Maggie to nurse it, but Maggie was too dazed, and a little scared as well. As a compromise, she allowed Tom to bring out some breast pumps, and put them on.

Was this unicorn a good thing? Maggie wondered. How had she produced a mythical creature? What could it do? What should they do? Should they tell the others? Who could they even consult on this? What if the unicorn attacked them or—or—

“Maybe it’s a sign of something,” Tom muttered.

“What?” said Maggie.

“I don’t know. Something good?” Tom ran his hands up and down Maggie’s round belly, and Maggie felt less worthless than before, but more confused than ever.

They had the best sex they’d had in months. Maggie reluctantly left in the morning. Amazed as she felt, there were still some loose ends she needed to clear up.

She drove directly to the city and the shoddy apartment building the private investigator had directed her to. She walked numbly to the first floor apartment and gave three sharp knocks.

There was some banter on the inside, someone shouting at someone else. There was some scuffling, and finally, the door swung open.

There stood the goth guy, his black hair messily hanging in his face, eyeliner smudged around his eyes, and black fingernail polish chipped around the edges.

He looked at her in surprise. He regarded her, from her massive six breasts, to her at-term-looking gut, and the moisture seeping into her clothes even at that moment. Smirking, he crossed her arms, leaning on the doorframe.

“Lesson learned,” Maggie told him breathlessly.

“Seems so,” he drawled.

The End