I Sold My Soul To Play The Blues, Ch. 9

Story by horsewriter on SoFurry

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A collaboration by earbender and I.


Natan said "Damn. He's here already. Lets get some clothes on." He pulled on his shorts and I dithered a bit, wanting to wear a dress that at least covered my teats, but it was a warm day outside and I went with the shorts, in the end.

We left our weapons in the bedroom and hurried out to the waiting limo. Lewis waved at us from the driver's seat as we got in the back. He grinned his snaggle-toothed devil smile, drew on his cigar, and said "You're gonna have a great time. And the money is starting to roll in!"

I glared at him, ears back, and demanded "Lewis! Why didn't you tell me I was going to go into heat?"

"You're in heat?" he asked, then said "Oh, that doggy flu thing you called about. Yeah, I have no way of predicting stuff like that. Sorry".

I grumbled sourly "No, Lewis, I'm not in heat. Not anymore. I'm not in heat because Natan got me pregnant."

Lewis' jaw dropped, and for a second he stared back at me, clearly at a loss for words. Then his jaw snapped shut and his smile came back wider and more snaggle-toothed than ever. He looked to Natan, and back to me, and boomed "Congratulations!"

Natan put his arm across my shoulders and kissed me on the ear. I twisted my head away and warned him "Back off." He removed his arm.

Lewis was fiddling with his car controls now, but still looking at us through the rear-view mirror. He said "Larry, I'm going to get you some counseling, okay?"

I bared my teeth a bit and muttered "Counseling. Yeah. Right."

Natan soothed "Larry, we'll get through this. You'll see. I'll be there for you."

I put my hand-paws to my muzzle and closed my eyes. I growled "You're not the one who's fucking pregnant!"

"We'll talk more later," Lewis said. "Right now we need to get you some proper ball clothes."

I felt the turbines rev and we lifted off from the ground, landing struts retracting, then Lewis stomped on the throttle and his limo shot off across the grassy plain like a glossy white rocket. We sat in silence through the brief trip. I tried not to think about what I was about to go through. I kept staring down at my belly. Now and then, out of the corner of my eye, I would catch Natan turning to look at me, a worried expression on his face.

We drove into town and found our way to a large building garishly painted, like all the other Vroufling commercial buildings, this one with pictograms of fashionable mens' and ladies' clothes. Above the entrance was a gilded line of cuneiform-looking Vroufling writing informing us that we had arrived at "Zolton's."

Lewis idled the limo and rummaged up front a bit, then turned back to us and tossed Natan a bag of coins. He said "Natan, help Larry pick a nice show-dog outfit, since you know the ropes. I should be back in about an hour." Natan nodded and opened his door, then sprang out and around to my side. With a flourish and a bow and a broad toothy smile he bade me "Ma'am, will you be so kind as to come with me?"

I rolled my eyes and he added "Stardom awaits us, Larry!"

I sighed and followed him out, and right away the turbine-car whined up and sped away behind us. We stepped up to Zolton's heavy bronze entrance doors, and Natan ostentatiously pulled them wide to let me inside.

The place was pleasantly lit and air-conditioned, with faux-furred Vroufling mannequins draped in opulent but alien clothing illuminated by floor or ceiling lights. Natan walked up to an attendant and asked for ladies' ballroom fashion-ware, and she pointed towards the stairs, so up we went to the next floor. The clothes on the second floor looked extremely gaudy to me. Lots of leather for the guys, and the ladies' clothes almost always were studded with rhinestones. "Follow me," said Natan, and he led us back among the racks and mannequins. He searched intently, gray ears pricked forward in concentration, and at last selected an outfit in my size that was a 1920s style short skirt with a shoulder-piece of matching rose-red glass beads wreathing the torso.

I stared at it in horror and exclaimed "You are kidding me, Natan. Please tell me you're kidding. That thing is so, so, gaudy!"

Natan looked me in the eye and smiled, and told me "Try it on! Please? For me? Wait by the dressing room and I'll be right back."

I grumbled "Fine. Whatever," and stalked off to the ladies' dressing room. I took off my shorts and pulled on the pleated short skirt, which fell to my knees, and then took up the shoulder piece dubiously, fiddling with it clumsily several times before figuring out how to put it on. I grabbed my shorts and slipped out of the dressing room, the beads chiming softly as I moved. They where pressed glass of little value, but nevertheless glittered in jewel-like splendor across the thick cream-white fur of my chest and belly. The bead-strings dangled down around my eight nipples tickling them constantly, but doing hardly anything to conceal them.

I looked at myself in the mirror, and I had to admit I did look damn hot for a border-collie woman. And I couldn't help but to touch my upper teats and then whirl myself in a circle, just one time, making my tresses fly and boobies swing and sway, then jiggle to a halt as I finished my spin. Yeah, I was beautiful. And it was a nice show outfit. Looked like gaudy suited me after all.

Natan appeared then, wearing form-hugging military leathers that left nothing at all to the imagination, especially the trousers. God, he looked so manly! I whined a surprised little whine as I saw and smelled his approach, the warm tingling butterflies of female arousal settling in my underbelly as I recalled the intimacy of my last three days with him. And I realized then that I might be out of heat but I still had sexual feelings, including feelings for Natan.

Natan put his hand-paws on my shoulders, looked me in the eyes, and smiled. He said "You're gorgeous!" and his tail began to wag. I couldn't help but smile back and wag my tail a little, and he pulled me in and hugged me. I sighed, and hugged him back. It felt so comfortable to be held by him. So... protected. I laid my muzzle on his shoulder and shut my eyes while he petted the fur on my back. It felt so nice and relaxing, I just had to whine a little in pleasure at the feeling.

"Let's pay for these outfits and wait for Lewis by the entrance-way," Natan suggested, and hand-paw in hand-paw we descended the stairs, catching looks from other shoppers as we walked up to the counter to pay. Natan bargained for us and we walked up to the front window to wait. I could feel their eyes of me, still watching, and I really did feel... sort of sexy.

We stood there waiting, our tails slowly swinging in sync, and at last I found the courage to bring up a question that had been nagging me for quite some time. "Natan," I asked, "how many puppies does a Vroufling bitch whelp?"

"It depends on the breed," he replied. "With my malamute bitches it's usually four to six."

I had a mental image of myself changing lots and lots of baby diapers, and I gulped, putting my hand-paw to my soft furry lower belly, grimacing. Then he licked me on the ear and said "Don't worry, I'll be here to help you. And now we can afford a nanny!"

I have to admit, at this point I was really thinking about my options. Natan would be horrified if I aborted his litter, but I guess Lewis could find me a new lead singer? One who didn't get his band-mates pregnant? But still... I really liked Natan. I shook my head. Could I really go through with it? Me, Larry Indigo, willingly giving birth to a litter of fucking puppies? My life would change completely. Again.

Lewis pulled up in his hover-limo and we hurried out to him, waving cheerfully as we climbed in. "You guys look fantastic!" he gloated, puffing on his cigar. "You're going to be the hit of the party." Natan and I looked at each other for a second, grinning silly doggy grins, then Lewis hit the gas and we zoomed away down grassy lanes between the buildings and out of town, headed towards a distant line of hills.