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Note: This is a story-prompt for Fox Face. The story is an unofficial epilogue for Pet Shop.

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“Like, so here’s the deal,” said the goth—his name was Edgar apparently, because of course goth-boy would have a goth name. His eyes kept trailing Maggie up and down and he seemed quite impressed with his handiwork. “The pregnancies will end after one more year. All of your animal progeny will serve to safeguard nature from poachers, trophy hunters, breeders, and other greedy little pet shop owners like yourself.” He nodded, looking too pleased with himself.

Maggie’s face fell. “Another year?” she said breathlessly. “Are you insane? End it now!” Her fingers twitched to assault him, but if he called the police, she was doubtful of how elegant an escape she could make.

“Sorry lady, it’s your only option. The spell’s already in effect,” he said remorselessly as he smirked.

Maggie was furious, but also dazed, and so very exhausted. “Please,” she pleaded. “I can’t do this for another whole year.” Absently she cupped her stomach as it gave a powerful lurch.

“Out of my hands,” Edgar said as he smoothly stepped back into his apartment and closed the door in her face. Beyond the door, Maggie could hear someone shouting to him that his dinner was getting cold.

Defeated, Maggie left the apartment building. Not wanting to be alone, she drove herself back to Tom’s townhouse. His cheerful spirits helped lift her, if just somewhat. It wasn’t until the following morning that she managed to tell him what had transpired. That she was stuck another whole year like this.

“At least there’s an end game,” Tom consoled, rubbing her back. “Before we were worried this would be indefinite.”

He was right, of course. But then, wasn’t he always?

In the months that followed, Maggie experienced a lot of changes, not only physical ones, but business ones as well. She made the a decision to no longer sell the animals she produced, which resulted in several tense meetings with partners and investors, some of them becoming acrimonious. But she would not be swayed. Something had changed after the birth of the unicorn. She was undergoing something meaningful and magical, and it seemed cheap to use it for personal profits.

The whole debate actually proved a nonissue, being that Maggie’s first birth following her meeting with Edgar proved to be an unsellable creature—a large litter of pangolins. The species was critically endangered and trying to sell them would just draw unwanted attention. Maggie and Tom were both fascinated by them and even entertained the prospect of keeping them, but in the end, quietly surrendered them to an exotic animal sanctuary that agreed to raise them until they were old enough to be released into the wild.

After that, Maggie continued to give birth to rare, endangered, or even extinct animals. There were litters of sunda tigers, atlas bear cubs, dodo eggs, and large puppies that turned out being identified as hokkaido wolves.

But then there were rarer creatures, ones that Maggie wasn’t sure had ever existed, or if she had birthed them into creation. There was the arduous and shocking birth of a hippocampus, scales iridescent under the lights as Simon took it away to provide it with a habitable aquatic environment. There was a large egg that strained her more than any other labor, and even in the days after Maggie had birthed it, it generated so much heat that it burned her fingers if she touched it for more than a moment. There was a sense of wariness but also excitement as she and Tom waited for it to hatch. There was discussion that it might be and actual dragon. Maggie just gulped.

The most stunning birth was the mermaid, and Maggie almost couldn’t release it to Simon, but it wasn’t meant for air. It was the strangest thing she had ever seen, and she spent many of the days that followed at Simon’s aquarium office, studying it in the massive tank he had installed in the back to hold the more unusual things Maggie produced.

Through all the pregnancies and births, Maggie’s body continued to change. She had developed a pair of bovine horns that protruded out of her hair in addition to hooves for legs. She also had a slight snout, a piggish nose, and a thin coating of white fur all over her body.

Maggie sold her shares and handed the business over to Dean and Mindy. The animals she produced were raised by sanctuaries before being released into the wild. When she produced domesticated animals—dogs, cats, and the like—she gave them to trusted friends and business associates who were honored by the rare gifts. They promised to love and cherish the animals, and more importantly, to not ever sell them.

Maggie and Tom moved to a private island he owned in the Pacific islands. It was strange but pleasant not to hide her body anymore. Tom regularly had custom clothes and bathing suits shipped over, and Maggie spent her days on the beach in custom-made bikinis, balancing the ever-increasing weight of her swollen abdomen, as she waited in anticipation for what would be her final birth.

She had become content and complacent, even in the advanced stages of her condition. She tried not to gripe too much. She had little to be angry about. For once in her life, she was actually happy.

Her large mound was perched in the sand, her hooved legs spread as far as they could go to make way for it. Her six breasts were fully engorged, stacked high enough that they pressed against her chin. She took long, deep breaths, watching her bolder of a mound methodically rise and fall.

“Virgin margarita?” Tom appeared in his swim trunks and settled onto the towel beside hers. He passed her a massive glass with the frozen beverage, a thick straw protruding out of it. Swiping some sweat from her brow, Maggie accepted it with a smile.

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