Nat's arms stopped growing it right at the wrists, leaving stumps that she stared at in confusion. She had just begun to flex her toes as they returned, her legs so nearly free, when an uncontrollably strong tug slammed them back into Ray's, before they quickly fused. Her "breasticles," which she had thought would de-fuse with her unfurled vagina and slide back up to her chest, completing the intended reversed transformation, stayed, unchanged, where they were - and instead a brand new pair, quite pleasurably, filled in her flat chest.
Though she was visibly infuriated that she had yet to be free of the malignant tumor she was still awkwardly attached to, Nat was overjoyed at the fact that she could now move and walk - with some difficulty.
She carefully obtained her phone from the other nightstand, and then unlocked it and dialed 911, using her nose and lips to do so since her arm stumps didn't register on the screen.
When police and paramedics arrived, they assumed that she had mistaken about being drugged and that this was just a concerningly extreme sudden transformation/mutation/fusion, looking to treat her "unconscious" boyfriend. She told them to watch Jay's still-recording video from his phone.
Things were pretty clear after that.
Though he was now lacking in terms of muscle, Dad's very first action upon our arrival at the police-guarded local WTEA center was to sprint in, past the guards, break into the Hazardous Mutations Containment Wing, and sock Ray's face as hard as he could - he wasn't aware that Ray technically didn't exist anymore, and that he had just punched his daughter's second, then-currently vestigial head.
We all wanted to comfort my sobbing sister, but the nurses and doctors at the center told us that her mutation was still unstable due primarily to the unrefined sex beast semen, and that Nat was very likely to mutate further over the next couple of days, potentially heavily, until her body stabilized. It took guards to forcibly escort Mom and Dad, who were both hysterical, out of the room for us to leave.
I'd never seen us all so quiet before. My older brother and his sister comforted each other and our parents. Dad was a sobbing mess, and though Mom was on the brink of being one too, barely kept it together as we headed to the police station for briefing on the case - and to watch Ray's video.
After we finished that crazy shit, I called my boss for an emergency week off.
"Good afternoon Misses, it's-
"Evan, everyone here is praying for your sister - What happened is fucked up. Don't worry and don't ask to confirm, take as long as you need."
Their four lips immediately echoed each other, agreeing the moment they picked up my call; By then, news of the assault had spread like wildfire. My bosses' head contains all four pairs of eyes and ears, while their lips, or rather, "lipples," are all situated on their chest. They responded so quickly, it wasn't possible for them to even listen to what I was going to say.
With appropriate protective gear, I kept Nat company for the next five days as she was monitored by the WTEA, with constant visits from our immediate and extended family. And, well, I got to see what Nat ended up turning into.
On Wednesday, a day after, I woke up at 5 A.M. to my sister tapping the glass barrier separating her bed and me with her wrist stumps. She said something felt wrong with them.
The guards and staff implored me to leave for the night yesterday, but I wouldn't have it, so they gave me a pillow and two blankets - to cover each half of my humongous, big-assed tauric body for me to stay warm at night. I ended up snuggling close to the barrier, and we just talked about the whole incident, how she thought of Ray, and how the family was taking it. She started to cry during the night, scared not just of what she had become, but what she might just become - and how we would all react if she turned into an even more twisted monster. I gave her plenty of comforting words, and we fell asleep in peace - until 5 A.M.
Two nurses and a specialist came running immediately after I yelled for them, and I was escorted out of the room to view while they went into the enclosure in biohazard suits to treat her. It was messy, to say the least.
Nat's arms darkened in color before their veins started growing in size - and they started literally pulsating. After a few minutes of this, her elbows practically vanished, and her wrist stumps soon grew outwards - not into hands, but familiar bulbous heads. Golf-ball sized testicles grew into each of her increasingly hairy armpits, and she let out an uncontrollably loud moan before both of her new arm/penis/tentacles orgasmed and sprayed semen all over the roof of the enclosure. This was more than enough stimulation to send her main penis body over the edge, and the staff recognized this quickly and pulled over a dedicated bin. She ejaculated even harder through her mouth, the veritable torrent of cum erupting into the container, breasts and breasticles spraying a semen-breastmilk mix as she spasmed and shot her load repeatedly, for the next whole minute. After ensuring that no further mutations were occurring, that Nat hadn't mentally regressed into a sex beast, and that she was conscious, the specialists took multiple semen samples to test if it was transformative, sterilized the enclosure, took her vitals, and left her rest before a psychological evaluation was performed.
I was scared, and she was sobbing. She admitted to me later that though she was horrified at what she had become, she was really screaming in ecstasy at this the entire time - every possible corner and cell in her body radiated pleasure in a manner unlike anything she had ever felt before in her life.
To keep this increasingly long story short, that was not the last of Nat's transformations, but nothing that happened after that point fucked with her mind, self-control, ability to speak, eat, hear, smell, see, or move - save for an expected massive libido spike. The specialist said that this was likely due to the fact that Ray had split a "dosage" of the crystallized sex beast semen meant for one person between himself and Nat, and thanks to the further unpredictability the conscience-erasing pill had brought, Nat had been relatively lucky. Of course, she would disagree - she looks as much as a "monster" as the rest of us now.
The next day, during Thursday's afternoon, there was a massive scare when it appeared that Ray "woke up," his limp body gasping awake as it would seem that he used his arms to prop himself up. The security guards almost got involved until Nat realized that this was what her double vision meant - she had now full control over Ray's vestigial torso. Understandably, she opted not to look at it or speak with it at all.
That night, my sister discovered that she no longer had to perform the disgusting necessity of taking a piss out of her own mouth and be forced to taste it. No, her new penis arms were not meant for this purpose, but somehow Ray's digestive system had been reconfigured to do so. With this development, the doctors confided to me and Mom that there was a chance that, with the severity of the transformations she had currently developed taken in mind, there was a good chance, based on current patterns, that Nat would mutate severely in the following days, and/or potentially lose her mind to lust. The first prediction turned out to be somewhat correct - the latter was not.
At 3 A.M on Friday, Nat got her wish - she woke up and panicked at her reflection before realizing her own face hadn't changed - it was Ray's. No one would ever hear Ray's voice speak again, as his nose and mouth had fused together during the night into a very recognizable pink slit. A copy of Nat's vagina was plastered onto his face to forevermore prevent his voice from being heard in any manner save for grunts, groans, and moans. It took a bit to figure out, but Nat figured out why Jay's tongue felt so weird - it had been transformed into a copy of Jay's original schlong. Both genitalia were fully suited for sexual purposes, but enabled Nat to easily vacate her bladder is a now far more pleasant manner.
Around 2 P.M. on Friday, Ray's former body began to mutate, its frame, bone size, chest and shoulder broadness, height, arm and neck girth, and facial bone structure slowly and uncomfortably shifting to a somewhat intermediate state between Nat's and Ray's features - an attractive, slightly feminine, androgynous form - much like what had happened to their shared legs. 7 hours later and the process was nearly complete, with "Ray's" voice, eyes, eyebrows, eyelashes, and hair now embodying the womanly grace and charm of his intended new penis - which stared on in incredulous silence the entire time.
The last transformations happened on Saturday morning when an extra pair of arms, Nat's originals, grew in under Ray's - followed by a singular row of three breasts on his otherwise flat chest. Though on the smaller side, the fact that there were three of them unfortunately made sure that Nat's two backs would continue to suffer back pain.
My sister finally came home after 2 further days of examination, and was scheduled for regular check ups and required to come back to the clinic if there were any psychological or additional mental changes. We didn't really know how to greet her, how to hug or kiss her or what to say . . . so after a dozen seconds of awkwardness, we all just started fucking sobbing . . .
---
"So there you have it man. She's stayed at our parents' place ever since and is still trying to make sense of her new hypersexual body and raging sex drive! She says she's fine, but we just have to take one look at her to realize that she isn't. She'll never be the same, and she knows it. We all know it too - we've been trying to come to terms with it, to come to terms with ourselves. But we haven't yet. She hasn't yet. And it's gonna take a hell of a long time since the only ray of hope in our family is now the worst off of us all. All thanks to Ray - and these two fucks."
"So, you understand why we have to do this man?"
My friend furrows his brows on both of his heads and scratches the top of his right head with his upper right arm. Nathaniel was a victim of the "Toothpaste Terrorism" incident a few months back, and while under the effect of the chemical, he apparently did some pretty unsavory things, along with some couple hundred thousand other affected people. He knew what is was like to be poisoned, to have his mind warped unwillingly by a malevolent creep - and that's why I called him. He was a fusion of Hal, my old friend, and Natalie, his sister. Though he has a decently feminine frame and feminine assets, and has two separate heads (Hal's and Natalie's), his sheer muscular bulk, especially in their four arms, reinforces his still singular male identity. He may have two heads, but he has one bridged mind. He sighs from both mouths and begins to speak, his words echoing:
"Evan . . . I guess you're right man. This would be justice."
Two weeks after Nat came home, the police raided the building where the transformative agent dealers were operating from and seized all of their assets - drugs, guns, pills, mutagen, money, pictures, everything.
But two of them, the ones who Ray had gotten the drugs he used to transform himself and my sister, were nowhere to be found.
It took two months of searching high and low, but we eventually tracked them down to a hotel downtown.
It turns out that there's a benefit to this shapely behind and this "humantaur" build - four legs are much faster than 2.
Now, muffled and blindfolded, they are as helpless as Nat was. Ray paid for his ignorance. Now, they will pay.
Nathaniel comes back with the bottles of the crystallized sex beast semen they were carrying in their backpacks. He hands me one.
Time to give them a taste of their own medicine.