Zoo Life, Part 2 of 2 (Hippo & Rhino TFTG) (Patreon)

Story Tier Prompt for Spacebanana

Kade and Wallace are two ordinary young college graduates who have successfully gained employment at a remote zoo as veterinarians in training. However, neither of them are aware that this is a special zoo, in which most of the animals are former people who signed contracts without paying attention to the details. Instead of helping exotic species mate and reproduce, Kade and Wallace are going to be ‘enjoying’ these acts in person!

Part 1 Here 

Zoo Life, Part 2 of 2

I grunted as the bull entered me. Its weight was heavy upon my back, and I struggled with my mixed feelings of reluctant pleasure and frustration with my new situation. Just two weeks ago I had signed a contract to work at the prestigious and mysterious Ovid Zoo along with my best friend Wallace. We were both avid conservationists and animal enthusiasts, and the overseer, a slim black-haired woman named Claire, was eager to take us on once we signed our contracts.

Unfortunately for us, we had no idea that we were literally signing our lives away. Claire took us in a jeep to the massive reserve where numerous great African mammals were kept, many of them endangered or at risk in their native environments. It was then, while we admired two herds of rhinos and hippos, respectively. It was then that she shot my friend and I with strange chemical-filled darts. As we writhed on the ground, unable to pick ourselves up, she revealed that the contracts we had signed had hidden clauses that would turn us not only into a rhino (Wallace) and hippo (me, Kade), but female members of our new species. And that was just the beginning; our changes would last for the rest of our lives, and require us to be mated, bred, and impregnated by the bulls of our new herds over and over again, in order to reconstitute the species.

We railed against our changes, but both of us lacked the strength to fight against our new instincts.

Which is how I got to this point. It’s only been two weeks, and I’ve already been fucked by the male hippo of the herd more times than I can count. Wallace, no doubt, is in the same position: sometimes our herds draw near, and we are able to approach one another. But oftentimes I can see him - now a her - with the male rhino on her back, getting mated. Sometimes we share a glance across the plain as we are mated at the same time. Despite my revulsion, my new body craved the experience. I could feel my oestrus in full effect, my bloated, heavy hippo body demanding to be impregnated. No matter how hard I tried to fight my new animal instincts, I still found myself rising out of the cool water, widening my stance, and presenting my backside to the bull. To my bull.

And so I was mated, over and over again. My days consisted of grazing upon the ferns and fruits along the riverbanks, cooling myself in the water, and congregating with the other female hippos, of which there were many, and all of whom were once ordinary men such as me.

I knew as such, not just because Claire told me, but because every Saturday our bodies were allowed a brief respite to become human again. To my despair, when the change back occurred, we were still all female. My hair was long, my skin soft, my dick replaced by a very womanly passage. I had a huge pair of breasts, and to my further frustration I was also now quite heavy and rounded; obese, really. A result of the hippo influence, I suspected. Wallace was much the same with some key differences: I was actually jealous that she wasn’t as fat and rounded as I was. While she was still a bigger girl, she also had a strong musculature that I lacked, due in no small part no doubt to her being a muscular rhino instead of a blubbery hippo.

It was then that we learned this cruel program had been going on longer than we thought. The oldest of the hippos had been there for nearly ten years. Her name was Sasha, and she had a slight purple-pink tinge to her hair, as well as an incredibly round belly from her latest pregnancy.

“I’ve lost count at this point of how many I’ve given birth to,” she grunted, in response to a flurry of kicks in her womb. “We breed quicker than regular hippos, and we’re always in fucking oestrus even when pregnant. If I had to guess this would be the fifteenth or sixteenth?”

Wallace had managed to join them, despite his instincts urging him back to his own herd. He looked terrified.

“H-how do you cope?”

She shrugged.

“Not like I have much choice. At least hippo babies are pudgy but easy. I hear you rhino girls have it way harder when it comes to pushing out your little calves.”

Poor Wallace paled, touching her stomach. I got the distinct sense she knew she was pregnant already. I wish I had a notion of yet, but I suppose it was only a matter of time before I was gestating a baby hippo, however much I most certainly did not want that.

Evidently, at least our babies didn’t remain hippos or rhinos or whatever when we turned human, though to hear others tell it they still ‘locked in’ to their animal forms when they were finally born. As such, only a small portion of the herd ‘turned back’ on Saturday, roughly eight of us hippos and twelve rhino girls, most of them already pregnant or between pregnancies.

“Is there a way to escape?” I asked Sasha. Unlike her and the rest, I was covering myself with some reeds, awkward in my human nakedness. Clearly, the others were used to their nudity, and lounged around as they wished, bare breasted and bare bellied.

The woman - who must have been in her mid-thirties with wild, tangled hair - just shrugged. She even looked a little hippo-like with her hair colour, general roundness, and the merest suggestion of a snout. She had the view that eventually her ‘anthro’ form would be just as hippo-like as her quadrupedal one.

“There isn’t,” she said. “Do you really think I or any of the others would be sticking around if we could get out of here? I used to be a university student named Samuel. I had dreams of being a commercial jetliner pilot. Now my job is getting knocked up with hippo babies and pushing them out of my vagina every five months or so. Even if I could get out, what would I even do at this point? I’d be a freak; the woman who spends six out of every seven days stuck in hippo form, and is constantly horny for big hippo dick to get her pregnant again.”

Her words didn’t exactly inspire confidence, particularly when the other hippo girls all agreed. To a one, they had given up on any means of getting out. They regaled me with numerous stories of failed attempts, including several ideas I’d seriously entertained, each of which ended disastrously as they were placed in special breeding pens to make absolutely sure they ended up nice and fertile and full of calves by the time they were let back into society.

“Trust me, that Claire is one mean bitch,” Sasha said, grunting as she rubbed her distended womb. “She only cares about making sure these endangered species come back. She doesn’t give a shit if we’re stuck as fat hippo breeding stock until we die. Trust, the only thing you can do is learn to enjoy being bred, and get used to having big fat hippo babies moving around in your belly. Or rhino babies, in your case Wallace.”

We both gulped.

***

A month later, Sasha’s prophecy came true. I had thrown up in human form on my fourth Saturday, during which I was at least able to be transported for a checkup. Occasionally they let us eat human food at a cafeteria, and I learned there were also guys who had been turned into female giraffes, elephants, and even tigers. I was most jealous of the ‘gorilla girls’ as we referred to them; they had opposable thumbs, and so could at least have some semblance of normality in their function. We also had the chance to cash in chips we had earned if we ‘played out animal parts’ well for zoo visitors. Evidently, I had done well appearing like an ‘authentic hippo’, and was allowed to cash in my earned chips to enjoy a movie. Wallace joined me, though he had less chips than I, having tried and utterly failed to dig a message to onlookers in a jeep that he was actually a human. Claire threatened that another incident like that would put him in the breeding pens for a week.

But the time in human form served a dual purpose. Yes, it kept morale up, and allowed us to not go completely crazy, and also to look forward to cashing in our chips which caused us to be more docile the rest of the week, but it also allowed easier medical checkups. It was during one of these that I discovered I was pregnant with my first hippo calf.

“P-pregnant?” I asked in my new feminised voice. “Are you sure?”

I was sitting naked in a chair, a set of stirrups pulling my legs apart, and one of the doctors inserting an uncomfortable device into me. With my large F-cup breasts and large body, I felt humiliated and powerless, as if on display.

Claire, my cruel overseer, simply smiled as she removed her rubber glove in a dramatic fashion.

“Oh yes, my dear Kate. You do indeed have a gorgeous little calf growing inside you. Of course, right now it appears human, but tomorrow it will be much more hippo-like. We’ll run even further tests then. I’m sorry to say you’ll have another invasive test as well as a sonogram. But it’s all to ensure your first little calf is growing well. Your first of many.”

I blushed, utterly overcome. How could it have come to this? I loved animals, but I didn’t want to become pregnant with one? Of course, I should have known it was going to happen soon; my bull was fucking me practically every day, and my body had become addicted to his cock, practically yearning for his seed inside me. It was a wonder I wasn’t pregnant sooner, in fact.

“H-how many months?” I stammered.

She smiled. “You’ll remember that your gestation time is much quicker than an ordinary hippo. It should be only five months. With luck, you’ll be delivering calves twice a year! And we’re only getting better at this; your body is much more fertile than Sasha’s is - she’s our oldest former human male of the lot.”

I groaned, unbelieving this was my life now. “Please, you can’t do this. I want to go back to being Kade. Please, change me and Wallace back. We won’t tell anyone about Ovid Zoo.”

Claire just made a ‘tssk-tssk’ sound, wagging her finger. “Nonsense Kate, I couldn’t change you back now even if I wanted to! The change only goes one way. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to learn what it’s like to be a fertile female hippo for the rest of your life. At least you’ll have good company, plus your friend Wallace - I call her Wendy now - is pregnant too, so at least you can go through this together.”

I felt my skin go white. “Wallace is pregnant too?”

“Yes, she is! I suspect she was successfully bred by her bull around the same time, actually. How amazing would it be if you both went into labour at the same time, huh?”

It sounded dreadful, but it also sounded like I didn’t have a choice.

***

Over the next five months, evidence of my pregnancy grew and grew as I grew and grew. My belly - already fat and blubberous - expanded further, causing my poor legs to strain beneath the weight, and requiring me to lounge in the wonderful buoyant water more and more. The fetus inside me developed with each passing day, and it wasn’t long before I experienced the alien sensation of life shifting around inside me. And not long after that, that life was shifting and squirming and kicking, and causing me to pee in the water far more often than I cared to admit, like an animal. As big and heavy as I felt as a regular hippo, becoming a pregnant one was worse. My roundness only increased, but that was not the only change: I learned that other mammals also get weird mood swings and cravings when they are pregnant, not just humans. Some days I desired specific fruit and berries, while other days I wanted a particular type of branch to nibble on. Wallace was similar, though being a rhino her pregnancy caused her to develop some emotional aggression: several times when we were able to meet - in hippo and human form - she would snap or say something insensitive or feel the need to scrap her horn against something. She even called me Kate, and I started calling her Wendy in revenge. Soon the names just stuck; they felt more natural to us now anyway, given that’s what we were. Female.

They were also the names that the visitors to the zoo called us. They came in their tour buses and jeeps, the official ones with the Ovid Zoo symbol on the side.

I was pregnant. Pregnant with a damned hippo. Once, I would have been ecstatic that I was able to spend time with an endangered species and see a hippo give birth to one of its kind. But now I was that hippo, and my days were spent grazing, being mated (unnecessarily, at that), cooling myself in the water, and going through the motions of my pregnancy. It was not a fantastic existence, and it was made worse by the fact that I had no choice in it. In some ways, being turned back - into a fat pregnant woman - once per week only made life worse, because it was just brief enough for me to remember how much I missed being human without the benefit of getting to remain one.

Wendy had similar troubles: she too was visibly pregnant, and like me was expanding every day. Her herd was more territorial than mine - mind you, we hippos have an instinct for aggression that people underestimate - and it was clear that she didn’t like tourists and zoo visitors snapping photos of her. She would huff and puff and even give a brief rush of aggression towards their jeep, only to stall out and walk away after their excited claps and cheers. Nothing ever came of it. No one wanted to end up in the breeding pens, being fed fertility drugs.

Still, we complained and compared our experiences on those days we could. Both of us had swelling udders, and mine was a source of discomfort. According to Claire, it was “filling with extra milk and early too! All the better for you to feed your future young! After all, you’ll be producing young and feeding them for the rest of your life now!”

It manifested as lactating nipples on our Saturdays, and even worse when it had to be collected and stored to feed the hippo calves when we weren’t there in animal form to do it. It was all a lot to take in, but I continued to become accustomed to it, as if given Stockholm Syndrome by new life.

***

Claire grinned, showing a jeep of tourists the so-called ‘magnificent sight’ before them.

I was giving birth.

The pressures had started earlier that morning, and had only increased. It didn’t take a genius to recognise that I was having contractions, particularly since they were unlike any pressures I’d ever experienced. It was like my entire, fat, hippo body was tensing, my overly-full womb quivering and pulsating, demanding to push the calf within out of it. I bellowed aloud, opening my enormous snout and huffing loudly, and this made the various visitors cheer and take further photos.

Another bellow, another need to push. I struggled and strained, trying to ignore the powerful instincts urging me to play my animal part. I didn’t want to put on a performance for this crowd, especially not for Claire’s satisfaction.

“You’re about to witness something incredible folks!” she called loud enough for me to hear. “The live birth of a new hippo calf. Watch how the female bellows and widens her stance. And also how she has kept near the water so she can introduce her calf to it when necessary.”

I hadn’t even realised I’d done that, but then I was used to my instinct operating in more subtle fashions. I was just glad, despite the pain and urging to bear down, that I was finally ridding myself of this calf, at least from within my heavy body. Sure, I would be impregnated again soon no doubt, at least I would have a respite, and being mated by my bull would be less burdensome. After all, that too was something I couldn’t avoid, and had long since given into.

“Look, I think she’s pushing!” someone yelled.

Indeed, they were perceptive. I groaned, snapping my great maw as another contraction rippled through me. I tried to fight it, to stave off the moment of birth until the tourists gave up and went away, but it was a losing battle.

I had to push.

“MMWWWAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

The zoo guests shouted in surprise at my outburst, as I began to push in full. It was a slow process, and my large body made me exhausted, but still I continued to push and push. I could feel the incredibly large form of my first calf descend, squeezing through my birth canal. It was an utterly alien feeling, and yet I was helpless to prevent it, or to stop giving into the process. Another push, and it descended further, pressing my large animal hips wide. Another push, another squeeze. It felt like I was pushing out a living boulder. The animal form pressed against my walls, the life within me desiring freedom.

“MMRMRRAAWWW!!”

I bellowed one last time, pushed and pushed and pushed, and finally I felt it emerge. Waters gushed out of my rear as my amniotic fluids leaked. Another push, another act of bearing down, and I felt the calve widen me painfully to my fullest extent.

And then it exited completely, and I huffed in agonised relief as it escaped.

I had just given birth.

“There it is, folks!” declared Claire as I breathed heavily. The tourists snapped numerous pictures, causing greater humiliation as instinct drove me to check on my new calf. It was small - comparatively - and wet, covered in amniotic gunk. Another push and my cord and sac detached. I helped my little one with its own cord, tearing it with my great jaw.

It looked at me like I was the world entire.

“Here we see the first interaction between mother and child. Will it take to her? Will she let it feed? Rarely, hippos reject their children.”

The small crowd of onlookers watched in baited breath.

I hated my new existence, having to breed new hippos into the world. And yet . . . I had just created life. This gorgeous little calf had come from me, and would depend upon me for some time until it was weaned. Something about it was not just instinctive, but part of the old Kade that loved animals.

I turned, shifting over my calf, allowing my udder near its face. It raised its little head and latched on, and I immediately felt the relief of my first calf of many suckling from my body.

It wasn’t much of a life, but it was mine. I might as well get used to it. I could only hope when Wendy gave birth any day now, that she would feel the same way.

The End