Rowan is excited about his upcoming 18th birthday and his life to come at uni with his best friend turned boyfriend. On the big day, though, a series of changes forces him to begin an entirely new kind of life.
Doctor MacNeill was still stumped. Angus, every day you are more and more clueless about this stuff, he thought. Just as you think you’re on to something and think you’ve got it all figured out, something like this happens.
He had brought a wheelchair from his surgery over so that Rowan could regain some mobility and get some fresh air. Rowan was now out in town with his sister, being pushed by Marc.
“I don’t know if there will be any other transformations,” the Doctor, “but it may be that this is his transformation and that he is in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.”
“Well, at least he still has his health, I suppose,” Mrs Rowan said, sounding resigned to the fact.
“I think I’ll keep young Rowan under observation for the next few weeks just in case. I’ll pop round every day just to see if there are any other changes, and to see how he is getting on.”
In town, Rowan was starting to brighten up a bit. People were staring, as would be expected, but the high prevalence of multis in town meant that most just went about their normal daily business.
A few of Rowan’s classmates saw him and came running over to see why he was in a wheelchair. Rowan explained what happened, and his classmates all sympathised with him. A few of the guys who were born multis welcomed him into the club, before everyone headed on their way.
“Rowan, why is it that there aren’t any girls who have extra bits?” his little sister asked.
“We don’t know,” Marc jumped in. “It does seem to be something to do with the male genome, but there hasn’t been any serious scientific study on the issue. Probably because Avonkirk isn’t that big a town, and most of it seems connected in some way with the old Research Lab on the south side.”
“I don’t think she’ll understand any of that Marc, she’s only 8 years old,” Rowan laughed, the first proper laugh he had in days. Sure enough, his sister had already given up listening and was now skipping along beside them singing a song.
“Urgh, my stomach feels like it’s doing summersaults,” Rowan said. “Aargh, now it feels like I’m being stabbed by needles in my legs.”
Ignoring Rowan’s sister’s ‘but Rowan, you don’t have any legs’ comment, Marc starts walking them home so that Rowan can get some comfort…
By the time Marc gets Rowan and his sister home, Rowan is hugging his belly with all four arms. The discomfort has now turned to pain.
Marc lifts Rowan up to his bedroom, laying him on his bed, before heading downstairs to get something to ease Rowan’s pain. Hearing Rowan scream, Marc rushes upstairs to help. On arriving, he’s greeted by a sight that shocked him completely…
The space where Rowan’s legs once were was no longer smooth but was in turmoil with many things moving underneath the skin. In the exact centre, a small, sharp horn-like bone is piercing through, causing blood to pour over the bedsheets.
Rowan continues writhing in pain, groaning and screaming as the horn continues to force its way out of his skin.
As the horn pushes out, the skin surrounding it begins to change colour, becoming a dark orange. The skin also starts to bulge out in 8 different places.
Marc calls Mrs Fraser to contact Doctor MacNeill. He then moves to Rowan’s upper body and holds him tightly through the pain. Making soothing noises, Marc tries his best to take Rowan’s mind off this latest transformation.
After 30 minutes or so, Doctor MacNeill arrives and bursts through the door. What he sees is something he’s never seen before…
Rowan’s upper body is as he last saw it, although it had the huge arms of Marc Fairbairn around it, but below the waist is something completely new. A large spiky horn has pierced through the skin, causing a lot of blood loss, while the skin around is now an orange colour and extending in 8 separate ‘limbs’.
Just as he goes to check on Rowan, the horn splits in two, forming what can only be described as a beak. As it opens, the Doctor can see inside to what looks like a mouth, with a large thick tongue. However, the chance to study this passes as the beak closes and the ‘limbs’ begin to grow.
“Okay, m’boy,” the Doctor says to Rowan in a calm voice, “I’m going to give you something for the pain, to take your mind off this latest, ahem, episode.”
Administering the drug, the Doctor watches as Rowan drifts off to sleep.
“He’s waking up…”
Rowan opens his eyes at Marc’s voice and sees his beautiful face taking up his entire vision.
“Hey Marc,” Rowan says, rubbing his eyes with his upper arms. “How long was I asleep?”
“4 days man,” Marc says with a smile, “do you feel any different?”
“Hmmm… I feel a lot better, but not much different…”
As he took inventory of the situation, Rowan felt his arms, all four of them, his pecs—wait, I don’t have pecs—his abs—I have abs now?—his tentacles…
With a shot, Rowan’s eyes open wide as he looks down. Where he had nothing the day before, he now had an enormous set of 8 tentacles. He was a massive octopus from the waist down.
“Holy shit!” Rowan shouts.
He concentrated and moved his tentacles, giving Marc a hug with all eight of them. He then realises that he now has a second mouth between his tentacles. Concentrating some more, he opens that mouth and discovers that he has no vocal cords down there but reckons he could eat something with that mouth.
He also realises that he now has a penis again, sitting inside his beak. He concentrates some more and let’s his cocks stretch out of his beak.
“Marc? Could you tell me how big I am?”
“Rowan, you’re huge. You’ve muscled up too.”
Embarrassed, Rowan clarifies his meaning.
“Oh, sure. Fuck Rowan, you’re huge. That thing is longer than my arm, and as thick as my wrist.”
Pushing off using his tentacles, Rowan leaps on to Marc, carefully twisting so that he lands on his back with Marc on his belly.
“Do you still love me, now that I’m a monster?” Rowan asks.
“Of course, I do, you idiot. I love you Rowan, and nothing is going to change that…”