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Work Header
Rating:
Explicit
Archive Warning:
No Archive Warnings Apply
Category:
F/M
Fandom:
The Good Life (Video Game)
Relationships:
Naomi Hayward/Dog
Transformed Human/Dog
Characters:
Naomi Hayward
Pauline Atwood
Michelle O'Reilly
George Fahkoury
Additional Tags:
Knotting
Transformation
Animal Transformation
Impregnation
Pregnancy
Unplanned Pregnancy
Pregnancy Kink
Pregnant with Pups
"I can't be pregnant with puppies!"
Magic
Curses
sorcery
Unintended Consequences
Bestiality
Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
Language:EnglishStats:Published:2021-11-18Words:5,634Chapters:1/1Comments:19Kudos:240Bookmarks:28Hits:14,651
A Good Knotting
FestivalGrey
Summary:
Naomi Hayward likes spending time 'cursed' as a dog, and she decides to fool around with a friendly, inquisitive male. There couldn't be any unintended consequences... right?
Notes:
I can't believe this appears to be the first fic ever on this site for this game (which is excellent btw) and it's fucking animal smut lmao
hey while you're herecheck out my twitterfor more delicious depravity
Work Text:
There was something liberating about taking a wild shape. Naomi Hayward still wasn't sure about the true nature of the curse plaguing the town of Rainy Woods, but as she ran through the forest on sure-footed paws, her tongue lolling in the wind and her fur cupped by the sun's warmth, it was hard to consider it a 'curse' at all!
The picturesque English village in which she'd found herself had a unique feature—on the nights of and surrounding the full and new moons, the inhabitants transformed into either a dog or a cat. Naomi, an outsider from New York, had adopted the curse in an entirely different fashion—she could become either animal at will. They both had their perks—but for truly tasting the freedom of the wild countryside, nothing could beat doghood.
Her canine form was that of a golden retriever with a coat that matched her human self's blond locks; it gradually gave way to a creamy underbelly. (She was pleased to discover that her trademark sunglasses stayed perched on her dog-self's forehead. Human or not, a girl had to accessorize!) True, she was supposed to be uncovering the secrets of Rainy Woods and paying off her debt—but sometimes, a little stress relief in the form of rolling through the grass, digging up treasures, and barking at the moon was hard to pass up.
Besides, caninehood was something of an adventure—and she'd never been one to pass up an adventure!
As the sun moved towards the horizon, the golden hound loped through the English woodlands. The trees whispered and dappled around her, and a veritable symphony of fresh sensations called out. She could smell squirrels, hedgehogs, foxes; each scent as easy to differentiate as the next. They had discernible smells down to the very individual. The trees, too, spoke to her empowered sense of smell—the sickly bite of fresh sap, the stately musk of bark. They were joined by the sound of leaves being caressed and played about by the wind. A New Yorker through and through, Naomi had always found more comfort in the smell of asphalt and the patter of distant honking… but the more time she spent in Rainy Woods (especially in her animal forms) the more time she came to appreciate nature for what it was.
The thing about being a beast was that each body came with instincts all its own. Oh, she was still Naomi Hayward—she retained her memory, her personality, her intellect. But the call of things became so much stronger as a cat or a dog. Like now—she wanted to race.
So race she did. Surrendering to her instincts, the gold-furred retriever barked happily and then dashed off through the woods. Her paws padded along dirt and grass, nails digging into moss and tongue tasting the wind. Her long, thin tail stringed behind her. There was such simple joy to be had in the freeing form of a canine—debt and doubt were the worries of Naomi the human. For Naomi the dog, all that mattered was expending the energy that surged in her like a river, engaging in the freedom of simply existing as a wild, unchained creature.
After happily racing through the woods, Naomi settled down to rest, crossing her paws and laying her chin on them. Her tongue panted out of her mouth and her tail thwap-thwap-thwapped against the soil. True, she was supposed to be trying to find the next big scoop… but did she really want to? Was it so wrong to indulge the commands of the wild?
As the light gradually oranged, moving closer and closer to sunset, the dog's strength returned—and her practiced nose sniffed out another scent, unfamiliar and intriguing.
Another canine was in these woods.
Naomi instantly recognized it as a stranger. It didn't share a scent with any of the canine folk of Rainy Woods—of course, since it was neither nighttime nor even close to a full or new moon, that should have been obvious. The animal approaching her was not a cursed human, but a real, true-blue dog.
Huh, Naomi thought to herself. Haven't actually seen too many of those here.
The dog was clearly following her own scent, so she stood to meet it. Her instincts demanded her to be cautious, but not outright fearful; the newcomer didn't seem to be pursuing her, but there was no harm in being cautious. She stood at the ready. If all else failed, she could go human again and meet it with some pepper spray.
Before long, the newcomer loped into view. He was an Australian Shepard with a piebald coat and floppy ears, slightly larger than Naomi herself. Probably a sheepdog for one of the local pastures who'd managed to get out for some exploring. He perked up at seeing her and panted happily, his tongue lolling.
Naomi whuffed at seeing him. Sure, he seemed friendly, but Rainy Woods was her turf! Did he know who the real top dog around here was?
The shepherd seemed to get the message. He ducked his belly low to the ground, tail wagging low, lowering his gaze—clear signs of submission. Good. Naomi regally decided to let him approach and he did so. He sniffed at her muzzle and then gave her a tentative lick—also good. He clearly knew who was in charge here. Relaxing, Naomi let her tail wag and she nuzzled him, and the shepherd resumed being at ease. He frolicked around her, tongue lolling, sniffing at nothing, clearly excited to make a new friend. Naomi watched him with amusement. He was having a lot of fun—and her own instincts told her that this was a good find. How exciting to meet a friendly fellow pupper!
The dog approached her again, sniffing at her butt—Naomi let him, easily swatting aside the instincts that told her to return the favor. None of that, thankyouverymuch! But then the dog's wet nose touched her muff, and he gave a tentative little lick, and everything changed.
Naomi stiffened with shock, nearly aghast at the forwardness—but wait, he was a dog (and so was she) so this wasn't exactly abnormal. But as she grappled with it, other things became open to her. Her nose picked up on an undercurrent to the dog's smell—he was clearly worked up, showing a sexual excitement. It was as apparent as the day itself. What's more, her own instincts suddenly clamored that she reciprocate. He was young, healthy, and attentive. He'd respected her dominance. A sudden, spiking fire whipped through her, and Naomi abruptly whined as she felt compelled to yield herself to this new canine. She… she really wanted to mate with him!
The New Yorker inside of her was shocked. Sure, being a dog was a different beast (heh) than walking about as a woman, and she'd rode out some of the instincts before… but this was the first time something so overtly sexual had happened, and so forcefully at that! Still, she was Naomi Hayward; she was in control here. She could swat aside those instincts just as much as she could the urge to sniff his butt. If all else failed, assuming her human shape would instantly dispel them.
But… did she… want to dispel them? She chanced a peek at the shepherd, who was standing a few paces away, looking at her. The dog's tail wagged exuberantly, clearly waiting for the go-ahead to start fucking her, and down between his loins, a tiny peek at his cock was visible. A little stab of pinkish-red poked out of his sheath like a tube of lipstick.
Naomi had always been something of a daredevil. A peerless drinker, a big spender, she lived for excitement and thrill. (Sure, that lifestyle was what had gotten her into debt in the first place, but. That was unimportant now.) Those habits had induced a voracious sexual appetite in her, one that had been nearly insatiable in the states and which had gone unsated since crossing the pond. Plus, wouldn't it be exciting… to see what getting rawed by an animal really felt like?
I mean, she thought, her mind racing with the stimulus of the heat inside her, I'm an animal too right now, so it's just a pair of dogs being dogs. Nothing wrong with that… Damn, she hadn't had sex in a while… Nobody has to know, hehe… It's an adventure… And girl, you live for adventure!
Deciding it would be exciting, harmless fun, Naomi surrendered to her canine side. Turning, she presented her rump to the Australian Shepherd, lifting her tail to give him a good look at her muff.
As a dog, her pussy had changed. She didn't have a woman's slit anymore, but a puffy, needy spade… one which was tender and hot with need as the sexual thrill thrummed through her. Though Naomi had long grown accustomed to ignoring her own scent when she took on her cat or dog forms, she was still aware that a musk was exuding from it. It filled the forest glade, downright commanding. It was amazing the male dog had lasted as long as he did.
But he didn't have to wait any longer. Whining with happiness, the stud trotted over to her, his paws brushing the undergrowth, and then…
He mounted her.
Naomi barked out suddenly as the unfamiliar weight settled on top of her. His fur intermingled with hers, static jumping between them. His paws draped over her shoulders, his face rested near her own, tongue panting with joy. He licked at her again.
And he started to mash his loins against hers.
Eyes widening, Naomi barked again, the sound trailing off. Oh… oh fuck. This was different than having sex as a woman. Very, very different.
But good.
She was no expert on canine sex (which later, in retrospect, seemed very foolish to remain ignorant on given the circumstances) and she'd vaguely expected it would be like she was used to, except rougher. But nothing was further from the truth. The dog was still mostly sheathed, and so he mashed his loins against her spade in an act of lovemaking, except that there wasn't any penetration. But the pressure of his sheath against her was delightful all its own, sending an electric thrill through the reporter-turned-retriever that made her mind buoyant. She stretched her paws almost lazily in the woodland soil.
But he didn't remain unsheathed for long. With every push, he began to unfurl—and Naomi yelped as the sudden bite of penetration filled her. It was a bizarre feeling, wholly unlike what she was used to… but not exactly unpleasant. The dog's cock slowly lengthened, stiffening and filling her out, and Naomi felt herself give way to him, like a sleeve that had gone empty for far too long being filled. There was pressure, unimaginable pressure, and yes—a certain level of aching pain… but oh, the bliss of being spread like this was far more than she had ever expected.
And the instincts… her instincts!
YES breed spread take yield mate yes more mate stud wild hot warm bliss pressure surrender mate
Her instincts were running wild. She'd gotten spikes from them before, in both forms, but never anything like this—they were like a tsunami, threatening to sweep over and encompass her, dominating everything. Every thrust from the dog made him a little harder, a little firmer, and filled Naomi up just a little bit more—and her canine body absolutely loved it. Naomi was quickly caught up in a positive feedback loop that nearly threatened to consume her outright.
By now, the hound was mostly erect—which meant that with every swing of his hips (which were coming fast, and frequent, and delicious) that Naomi was newly speared by his pinkish-red canine cock. Holy fucknuts, she thought to herself, this is insane! I—I can't believe how good this is! The pleasure cascading through her was more than anything she'd ever experienced in her life. Her entire body felt afire, like she had a fever—but the heat was delectable and spurred her onward. She pushed her rump back against him, entreating him for more, and even clenched around his thick rod. The actions rewarded her with more bliss than ever before and set a parade of ecstasy marching out from her puffy, needy spade. Losing herself, Naomi tipped her head up and howled, a long, happy, singular note that held high in the air and betrayed her current form's wolfish origins. The sheepdog met her with a howl of his own, their voices intermingling as he happily humped away.
Did it get any better than this?
As a matter of fact, it did. It wasn't long before the male's paws tightened on her shoulders, his pace grew more hectic. His hips mashed against her spade and Naomi whined in the dirt, her body shaking as she struggled to keep up with the pressure of his weight above her and the sensation of being relentlessly fucked. He was going in harder—deeper—
And then he held inside and it started. The knot.
Naomi's world was redefined as her partner's cock, squatting thoroughly inside her, suddenly swelled at the base. It grew wider, wider still, stretching her father than she could have believed. Even her old human toys had never left her feeling like this.
It's so wide! she thought to herself. She barked out a sound of sensation, or tried to; her voice was strained and it came out more of a whimper. Holy balls, I can't—c-can't handle it, it's too wide…
Indeed, the knot kept on swelling, tying them together inextricably. Now she realized why the knot happened after penetration. There would be no tugging it out of her, and it would have been nearly impossible to put in. Which meant that she was plugged up tight, good and stuck, as the dog came and flushed her with his seed.
The female retriever barked wildly as she was pumped full of cum. It was hot and sticky, and with the knot firmly barricading her entrance, it had nowhere to go but deeper inside—thoroughly stuffing Naomi's womb. As orgasm rocked over her, the fire inside her dying down as it was sated, she whined blissfully as her innermost sanctum was filled, feeling it stretch as it accepted the dog's seed. She panted, still enthralled by her canine sensations. This was… paradise incarnate.
After a few minutes of thoroughly pumping his mate full of seed, the shepherd lifted his leg and turned away from Naomi. She whined at the feeling of his knot tugging at her entrance, but when he was finished, they were ass-to-ass—two dogs who had undeniably just finished mating. Now that the act was finally finished, a profound, satisfied weariness layered onto Naomi, and she laid down in the dirt, feeling pleasantly sleepy. Her mate also rested, still knotted to her, and they were left like that for almost a half-hour as he slowly deflated.
Finally, the sky burning with sunset, the sheepdog had diminished enough to pop free. Naomi keened out a high whine at the sudden absence, and she thwapped her tail at the tiny remaining drumbeat of pleasure exuding from her deliciously sore pussy. She could feel juices slipping out of her, though not near as many as might be expected.
The Australian Shepherd trotted over to her, nuzzled her happily, and licked her muzzle again—then settled down alongside her, sharing his warmth. Each of them reeked of sex, a pungent sharpness that commanded the air, and Naomi wouldn't have it any other way.
--
Still sleepy from being so thoroughly mated, Naomi had been content to half-doze in the warmth of her new mate for an hour or so only for a voice to jolt her out of it. A middle-aged woman's voice was calling for the hound to return; one of the local farmers, probably, having noticed her dog escaped.
The sheepdog stood, looking concernedly between Naomi and the direction of the voice, until she sent him running with an unaggressive chuff. She wasn't interested in anything long-term. They'd fucked and that was that.
Damn, Naomi thought ruefully as the dog trotted dutifully away, even when they're dogs, guys can get so clingy after sex!
While she could have returned home, she still felt lushly sore and sleepy, so she was content to doze the night away in the woods. She could return to town and resume her investigation tomorrow.
When dawn broke, the retriever yawned awake from dreams of hunting squirrels and receiving journalism awards, and she rose with a stretch of her long paws. Ah, she felt lovely… that had been a good sleep, nice and energizing. Right, Hayward, she chastised herself. Enough fucking around. (Heh. Literally.) Back to it. Paws sure-footed against the dirt, the golden-furred dog left the quiet wood, returning to the dusty footpath that led back to Rainy Woods. It didn't take long for her to find her own house on the outskirts, and she trotted up happily. Alright. Go in, grab some breakfast, shower, then back to it. She shook herself free of dirt and then drew on the reserves of quiet power inside of her, the manifestation of the town's curse that let her change forms at will.
And absolutely nothing happened.
The dog blinked. Blinked again. Uh, okay, that's definitely not good. At a loss, she tried to transform again, harder this time. She could just feel the well of magic power, lingering out of reach…
And yet, nothing.
Panicking, Naomi tried to assume her cat form—but it too was beyond her. She was somehow locked in her dog form.
Oh… oh no. This is bad.
--
For reasons that should have been obvious, Rainy Woods's local veterinarian was also the doctor. Naomi trotted through the village streets towards his small clinic, managing to nose open the door. George Fahkoury glanced up when he saw her.
"Ah, Naomi," he said pleasantly as he walked in. "Here for a checkup?" The town had played coy with their secret at first, but once it became apparent that Naomi also spent time with fur and paws, most of them no longer bothered pretending that they (or she) didn't become animals.
Naomi barked, loudly, and George's brow furrowed. "Erm, normally it's easier for you to tell me what's wrong in the Queen's English… any reason you're insisting on staying all furred up?"
Dammit! Naomi thought. That's the whole reason I'm here, you quack! Barking again, she rushed a small basket of toys in the corner of his lobby, spilling them out and nudging an alphabet toy. George's eyebrows raised as Naomi pawed one letter at a time, explaining her predicament.
When she was finished, the doctor looked slightly embarrassed. "Erm, Naomi, I think I might know what's wrong—have you, erm, m-mated with… another dog recently?"
She chuffed and looked away, pawing the tiled floor. What business was that of his, huh?
Why ya wanna know? she asked through the alphabet toy.
George stopped himself from facepalming. "Well, it's just… I'll need to do some bloodwork to confirm it, but I have seen this before, people staying stuck in their forms when they shouldn't. It's always females of breeding age…" He paused to let the info sink in. Naomi felt a twinge in her gut. She… she really didn't like what he was implying.
"Well," he said, shepherding her to the exam room, "let's get to it."
And a few hours and one blood test later, it was confirmed—
"Well," George said, looking over the results, "it's as I expected. You can, erm, expect a litter of puppies in about two months' time, Miss Hayward. Congratulations."
Naomi just stared at him, dumbstruck. Her tail was ramrod-straight behind her. No, no way. This had to be a mistake. There was no way!
She shook her head vigorously, eyes sparking with denial.
George sighed. "Miss Hayward, while you're clearly in the early stages, there's little doubt. Plus, to be frank, I've seen this before." A smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth. "Ask Virginia about that litter of kittens she 'found' sometime… if you want to get your head clawed off."
Well, that seemed to fly in the face of doctor-patient confidentiality—though in a town as tiny as Rainy Woods, everyone knew everybody else's secrets anyway.
…which meant the whole town was gonna find out that she…
Naomi slammed her paws down on the clinic's floor in anger, barking piercingly. George had to fix her! He had to!
The vet raised his hands in a mollifying fashion. "I don't know why getting pregnant locks out transformation. My specialty's medicine, not curses. If I had to guess, the mother's offspring won't inherit the same transformative powers, so the curse locks you in to prevent them or you from being harmed during the process… oh, and if you're thinking about ending the pregnancy, I wouldn't recommend it. There's magic at work here, so we have no idea how it might react—you may end up trapped in that form permanently."
Of their own accord, Naomi's ears flattened against her head and she whined.
"I know it's not ideal, but it's safest just to ride this out. You should be able to go back to normal once it's done. Feel free to trot on by whenever you need looking after." His smile was playful. "I do have your payment information on hand, and I'll even charge my vet fees, not my hospital ones." Afterwards, he shooed her out—and Naomi was left standing dumbstruck on his doorstep, all four paws planted stunningly on the concrete.
This place, she thought. Her tail trashed angrily. Really is.
She raised her head and yowled in fury. A GODDAMNED HELLHOLE!!!!
--
Maybe George was a defeatist, but Naomi wasn't going down without a fight. He'd said it himself. This was an issue of magic, not science! So who better to ask then the Woodlands Witch?
She trotted briskly along the pathway leading from Rainy Woods to Pauline's place. She kept a brisk pace. C'mon, she'd… mated… with that sheepdog not even twenty-four hours prior. There had to be like, a statute of limitations on this thing. A grace period! Surely she wasn't really pregnant, right? Or maybe Pauline could like, magic the babies out of her and into a real dog. Hey, it sounded like something out of a cheesy B-movie, but she was a cursed reporter going to see a self-professed 'witch.' Anything was possible.
Pauline's ramshackle house rose out of the gloom and Naomi picked up her pace, paws drumming excitedly against the soil. Yeah, this was definitely it! Pauline was the answer!
--
Cackling filled the cottage. "You did what!" Pauline hooted, slapping her thigh in disbelief. "Oh my lord! Girl! You got fucked by a dog and now you're stuck carrying his puppies?!" She was nearly insensate from mirth.
Naomi growled, just a little bit. Given how fond Pauline was of certain 'substances', she thought the older woman would have been more open-minded. Where was her sense of adventure? Naomi had just wanted to try something new!
Pauline finally managed to get her laughter under control, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "Whew, you Yanks," she said. "Every time I think you can't shock me, you find another way… hee-hee-hee… hah! Well then." She looked direct to Naomi. "You're on your own, little lassie. My concoctions are just old-fashioned herbalism. The sort of magic at play here is way beyond me!" She shooed her hand. "Guess it's time to take responsibility! Heh-heh-heh! I suppose you can come here if you want to be taken on walks." She pulled down her hippie shades, giving Naomi a look at her wild eyes. "I hear exercising the mother is imperative for the health of any growing young pups!"
Naomi left with as much dignity as she could salvage as Pauline's laughter continued echoing behind her.
--
That night, back in her own cottage, Naomi was curled at the foot of the lumpy mattress that served as her bed. It… it just wasn't fair. She'd been completely trapped by debt, forced out of house and home, made to uproot her life and travel across the world to chase down some stupid story about a town in the middle-of-nowhere… then she'd been cursed, and now she was stuck as a dog until she gave birth to puppies?
Goddamned hellhole, she thought morosely.
She moped around her cottage for a few days, too depressed to leave and too embarrassed of what the townsfolk would say when they saw her—but eventually her canine instincts couldn't be denied. She needed to run and burn off all this excess energy. So, early one morning, she nosed out of her door for a quiet trot around town.
Even then, there were a few people out and about. Rita heading to get an early start at City Hall, or Michelle getting ready to open 1977. Both women clearly recognized her and Naomi recognized in them a mixture of amusement and sympathy. Well, fuck it! She wasn't going to let this keep her down. Embracing her wild side, she'd raced through the countryside surrounding Rainy Woods, expending all her energy and stamina. She had several days' worth pent up, and it felt liberating. More than once, she'd stopped to roll on a grassy hillside. The simplest things could bring a dog pleasure.
(She really, really tried to ignore how even after a few days, there was a noticeable drop in her stamina. She grew exhausted faster, took longer to get her energy back. And she was hungry… hungrier than ever.)
Naomi caught a few wild critters for food, as she had before, but the thought of doing nothing but hunting small game for two whole months wasn't appealing to her. Michelle had looked sympathetic, right? She ran a restaurant, right? Naomi resolved to visit 1977 the following morning.
The pub was empty in the wee hours, which gave Naomi a chance to communicate by tapping her paw on words and letters in the phone book. Michelle quickly struck up a bargain: some folks around town had expressed interest in getting her cooking delivered to them, but Michelle was 1977's owner and only employee—she couldn't afford to ditch the pub to make deliveries. If Naomi could deliver the meals, then she would give her leftovers (dog-safe, of course) at the end of the day—and even save up a quiet little sum to pay her back once she was back to normal.
Well, fuck. It was better than doing nothing for two months. And so it was that Rainy Woods got its very own delivery dog.
Naomi did a pretty good job of it, in her humble opinion. The town was already familiar to her, and the sight of the golden retriever trotting down the cobblestones or up the lanes, a bag with boxed food inside hanging from her jaws, soon became a familiar one. The townsfolk of Rainy Woods were congenial and friendly to her, and despite her fears, snickering and backbiting was kept to a minimum…
…even as her tummy inevitably began to swell.
Okay, sure—George had told her it would take about two months, but Naomi was still unprepared for just how fast it happened. Within a few weeks she had a noticeable curve to her, stretching out her fur, that couldn't just be put down to her rich new diet of Michelle's pub food. Her teats—normally a line of near-invisible pink bumps marching down her stomach—had grown tender, and were swelling to the point where they became noticeable. And the movement…
The squirming inside of her was wild. She'd had pregnant friends tell her that the sensation of having a baby kick was something you could never get used to, but imagine having six of the little things! By the time the second month rolled around, there was almost never a time that Naomi couldn't feel at least some tremor of movement. The pups would squirm, nudge, nose, press, play. Sometimes, when they were especially active, she was left to quietly whine to herself in a corner of the pub, Michelle looking on in sympathy.
And she was so, so tired. Delivery trips of a mile or so—something she used to be able to handle with ease—became demanding odysseys. She traipsed home wearily, sometimes not even making it that far and just tucking down in the shade of a tree or a fence to recoup her energy. At times like those, she tried to fall asleep but was kept awake by the tremors of the puppies inside of her. Why had no one told her that pregnancies were so wearying?
On one of those early mornings where she completely failed to make it home and was dozing under a shade of a streetlamp, Michelle strolled by to get the pub ready for the day—and stopped.
"Ah, luv," the punkish woman said. "C'mon, then." She cajoled Naomi awake and slowly made her way to the pub, Naomi lumbering behind her. By now Naomi was nearing the end of her second month of pregnancy and could scarcely move at half her former speed. Her teats ached; at times they dribbled milk.
Back in the pub, Michelle got Naomi set up behind the counter and gave her a bowl of water and some juicy meat.
"Hope that helps ye," the mohawked punk said, rubbing her hand in a soothing motion across Naomi's swollen stomach. The woman-turned-dog whined and lapped at the food. It did feel good, but she was so sore… so tired…
Michelle kept at it for a few long minutes before she shook her head. "Ah, luv, why'd ye do it? Wha'd ye think was gen' happen?"
Naomi was too tired to get angry. She only whuffed half-heartedly. Michelle looked on in sympathy and kept on brushing her coat. "Right, no more work for ye," she said. "Ye've got a more important deliv'ry comin' up like."
Naomi whuffed again. Not funny.
During the pub's down time, Michelle took the gravid retriever to George's, leaving Naomi in his capable hands.
She gave birth two days later.
Birthing puppies was a mixed bag, all things considered. They weren't that hard… but there were six of them. Every time Naomi managed to squeeze one out, its little voice mewling and soft, she groaned as she felt another settle into place, ready to squeeze out of her birthing canal. Before long, even as she labored to pushthe pups out, the first and secondborn were cuddled up to her tummy, and she sighed mentally as tiny mouths found teats and milk began to flow. The pressure had been building for so long that she had nearly internalized it as part of herself, and to finally have it released was heavenly.
She had planned to immediately resume human form the moment the last pup was out, but when she was finally finished, she felt so spent that she couldn't even bring herself to do that. She simply laid on her side, half-asleep, and let the puppies drink away.
A few hours later, the pups were dozing, and she finally had a modicum of energy back. She could feel the core of magic inside of her, same as always. But she was almost afraid to reach for it. What if she was trapped like this? What if she couldn't change back?
Naomi, get it together girl. If you stay afraid to even try to change, it's the same as getting stuck! Gathering her power, Naomi reached for it…
And it answered her call. In a snap of magic, her body reshaped itself—limbs lengthened and took on muscle, a tail evaporated, a muzzle shrank into a human face. The very clothes she'd left behind on her transformation two months prior returned, magicked back the same as always.
She was human again.
Naomi slumped sideways with relief. "Ah fuck," she groaned, stretching her hand out to wiggle her fingers. After spending so long as a dog, her normal body felt… almost unusual somehow, like returning to a childhood home and seeing it a different color. "Guess I learned my lesson…"
Investigating herself to make sure there wasn't any funny business, Naomi noticed that her pregnancy changes seemed to have carried over to her human self. She was still tired and birth-weary, but more than that, she'd put on maternal weight around her thighs and waist—and her breasts were swollen, heavy, and tender. A tiny white trickle dripped out of one.
Scowling, Naomi glanced sideways to the dozing pups to chew them out. "This is your fault," she wanted to say, but couldn't bring herself to do it. After carrying them for so long inside of her, she… felt some connection with them, animals or not. (It had become apparent to her after asking George that her babies wouldn't be magic or intelligent—they would be ordinary puppies in every way.) One yawned itself awake and then whimpered, mouth yearning.
And the sassy New York reporter felt a twinge of warmth. "Ah, c'mere," she said. She reached over to the pup, gently cradling and handling it. Unbuttoning her blouse, she pushed it towards one of her breasts—and then sighed as the eager little mouth began to drink.
"Okay," she muttered, "definitely not doing all that again, but…" She smiled down at the warm little thing happily suckling away. "Maybe this place isn't such a goddamned hellhole after all."