It was all in good taste, after all. Might as well see to what extent this software would take the game.
Jake typed in “octopus legs” and a tag appeared in the box. It seemingly recognized the command. He pressed Enter on his keyboard, then appeared a list of items:
“Attention: Please review the following marks:
Self-awareness: Yes/No
Bystander awareness: Yes/No
Pleasure: Yes/No
Change Timer: 0:00”
He was almost unphased by the program; he just wanted to see what it would do with this information. He clicked Yes to everything, and wasn’t going to touch the timer, but after a second of thought he gave it a single click, setting it to 1 minute even. He pressed Enter.
A timer appeared on the screen with a progress bar, starting at 0% and 1 minute, and began counting down. Each second it went up a percent or two.
But Jake didn't get much time to focus on the timer, because almost immediately he felt something happening with his legs and feet. It was an odd feeling. Vivid, twisted sensations were surrounding his entire lower body. Before he could even get up out of his chair to figure out what was going on, his feet were slipping out from underneath him. He fell back onto his desk chair, and it all kind of came together in his mind.
“No… way…”
It was happening. The bones in his legs and feet were starting to bend in nonhuman ways, almost as if they were elastic. It definitely didn't hurt, but it was hard to interpret what was going on because of his shoes and pants.
Jake managed to whip his shoes off, and the loose socks just fell to the floor. Underneath, he saw what were supposed to be his feet. They were turning blue and growing large bumps all over his soles. Each toe was melding together, into two… no, three points? As if on command, his awe turned to fear as both feet began to split in half!!
The timer read only 20 seconds. He watched and felt the splitting sensation climb all the way up his feet, up into the bottoms of his jeans, and only a few seconds later the cramped mess of space inside the leggings must’ve been too much. The jean legs burst open, revealing similarly gray and bumpy … octopus legs. Tentacles? He didn't register a physical shift underneath his belly, because only a few moments later, the newer legs with two points each started splitting apart again. It was like someone turned his legs to silly putty and they were slowly pulling the ends apart.
The bumps on the soles of his feet, which curled out toward him as if on cue, began looking more like suction cups - suckers. He could curl his feet toward his face and flex the suckers in and out. The feeling was transcendental.
40 seconds. This splitting process again gave him another set of legs - six in all - which were shifting toward his back and spreading well clear of his desk area, almost reaching the other side of the dorm room. He could feel being pushed upward in the chair to support whatever change this represented in physical reality. The slimier, grayer skin took over at the bottom of his waist down to where his lower thighs used to be, almost like a protective shield. The tentacles (RIP feet) were nothing more than pointed ends, inching outward, growing longer, to end in points that were smaller than his pinky toe.
Was it over? No; the final “kick” was a jolt in each leg. The final remnants of his humanity had been zapped from the inside, leaving nothing more than a man with tentacles for legs.
The timer reached zero. It was complete; the most insane minute in his life. Jake sat there, on his chair, too freaked out to move - and yet he was moving around a lot! Each tentacle had a mind of its own; each sucker breathed in and out on its own accord. Could he even get up and out the chair? He could’ve screamed.
The le-- uh, tentacles were so sensitive to each… texture they felt! Every shift in movement, a load of information entered his brain. His spatial intelligence had definitely increased. For a moment he wondered why there were only six, but maybe his arms represented the final two limbs, making a grand total of eight. He lifted up the bottom of his shirt; yeah, he was still looking the same ‘down there’. His balls sat firmly between the slippery skin of two bulbous tentacles. At least that didn't change?
“Well... what the actual fuck. I'm actually half-octopus.” He belonged in the mythology books with the mermaids. Or maybe some Lovecraftian horror flick.
Jake finally looked at the screen. The Chronivac was back on the custom change screen, indicating it was waiting for new instructions.
He looked at one of his tentacles. He moved it up and over the desk, where (with a bit of practice) he latched onto the mouse. It was a lot more effort than he was expecting to “reach up” - he wasn't underwater, after all. The free-flowing aquatic nature of an octopus was not comparable to above-ground movement through the air.
In fact, he began to worry about whether or not the tentacles would... dry up or something. Maybe he needed to do something about that...