Here we are not quite half a year after the offer for me and Sara to continue our medical education and at the same time engage in actual research, and my parents’ first post-mutation visit. Truth is that things are great beyond anything I could have imagined, all the way from the very start of my mutations a year and several months ago through those two major events I just mentioned.
Sara and Dag’s late June wedding a month and a couple weeks ago was a beautiful event! Held at the edge of our lake, it was a small, personal ceremony, with a freedom-loving officiant doing the absolute governmental minimum to make it legal.
“He rocks that skirt harder than Sara rocks her whole gown” Rose confided to me in a whisper at the time.
It was true. Though he wore a modified suit jacket up front, nothing other than skirts (or maybe kilts) ever at any time worked for Dag Nabbit on his horse-shaped middle through his extremely feminine backside. He didn’t mind, and Sara certainly didn’t. Their passionate face-sucking kisses at the conclusion of the ceremony took the rest of us (me, Rose, Helia, and Sara’s parents) by surprise.
Sara’s mother grew an additional pair of legs with her mutation. Mostly in line with her current legs on somewhat of an arc, she found it very easy to do cartwheels, doing so at least as often as walking as normally as she otherwise could. Genitally she was normal, other than her vulva was at least 3 times its former standard size.
Sara’s father grew really big breasts (not as big as mine or my mom’s, but big) with big, chunky nipples. As eye-catching as their size was their location: down at what is belly level on most people. His substantially bigger, thicker penis spent a lot of time in his own cleavage whenever he was aroused, more by the nature of anatomical positioning than intent.
I’m finding medical school and research to be as close to pure bliss as I’ve yet known so far in my young life. No matter what happens, I’m learning lots of things close to every day, and contributing to making the world a better place at the same time! Sara agrees, and sometimes we’re doing our research in the same lab next to, or near, each other.
Everyone at this brand-new purpose-built facility in Wimoweh Valley that I’ve seen is a mutant, making for a stress-free campus environment amongst peers, even those with bizarre-to-me mutations. The valley is so close to Bubblensqueak Lake that I can barely call it a commute traveling to and from.
Dr. Wazzinit remains my advisor, routinely blowing me away with how he’s figured out how to run his two brains separately at the same time without messing things up. He can be holding a totally normal conversation with me with one head whilst typing something up with the focus of his other head. Really it’s only when I unintentionally ask a deep question that his other mind has to stop and join the one already interacting with me, for extra processing power.
I’m proud to share with you that I’m carefully milked daily on all school/research work days under laboratory conditions, supplying pharmaceutical-grade antiviral milk currently undergoing rigorous testing around the world. We’re still working out optimal dosages, safety limits, confounding factors, and more, so it’s premature to say that I’m materially contributing to a cure for some variants of the common cold or whacking HCoV family members in general, but so far things are extremely promising.
We usually milk late morning during a break, myself and Sara. They’ve done a great job making the milking room sterile and pleasant at the same time, with big picture windows with a nice view of parts of campus and the surrounding hills. Sara often reserves some of her milk for her own research—less of a problem for me, given how much I generate. She’s generated several pluripotent stem cell lines: variations related to subtle aspects of her ongoing mutations. Her milk is so precious that no one wants to lose a drop, though it does happen (and we won’t speak of what goes on over weekends).
There’s no way to discuss milk—mutant or otherwise—without discussing Helia Melonowski. Everyone at the Borden Institute was blown away to discover that Helia’s milk is the only known antidepressant and general mood stabilizer that reliably works across wide swaths of human genetic diversity. The phase 1 trials are still being completed as I type this, though if it remains as high efficacy and safe as it has so far in the next 2 phases of testing, it looks like her milk may blow existing pharmaceuticals mostly or wholly out of the market. It does require a higher dose of her milk than mine or Sara’s for therapeutic effect, hence ideally more milk is needed from her on an ongoing basis. She reports being up to the challenge. Beyond generating milk currently under extensive testing, Helia also works at the Borden Institute as a staff cuddle counselor. She commutes with Sara and myself in the motorhome, doing her milk blogging at night and on weekends.
In Helia’s case, she generates milk mostly based upon what she drinks (milk, water, tea, etc. mostly), so drinking more milk so that she can generate more therapeutic milk only makes her life better (according to her). Sara and I do require sufficient liquid intake, though for us it’s mostly sex that has us producing the most milk. As well, sexual bliss produces higher efficacy for our respective milks.
Rose also generates more milk after pleasurable sex. We’ve had her into the lab and tested her milk: promising, but so far no known medicinal nor other small-dose uses. Interestingly, under laboratory conditions we’d not had at home, various pairs of her boobs “light up” depending upon various milk parameters. By “light up”, I mean get highly aroused. She’s acting as some sort of bar graph indicator, though none of us knows yet what exactly her body is reading out. She’s been in a few times, but mostly remains at home working her sewing business.
Dag’s milk also remains an unknown, in terms of any healing properties. His output is low enough that unless it does something exceptional that no one else’s milk does, he’ll likely not be a useful source.
As with Rose, he too has been into the labs, more often than her given how he and Sara like to be together. Funny story with that: sexuality around the labs goes up many notches when he’s there. That sexy rear and super-enticing vulva beneath just won’t quit, and keep getting sexier. It is literally irresistible to most people who meet him and encounter those parts of him. So here’s the wild part: with people he likes at all—even brand-new acquaintances—he stands perfectly still and lets them caress and fondle his butt, almost as if he was frozen or paralyzed in place. Inevitably one thing leads to another, and soon the person is sexing him—right there in front of his new wife! He’s serene, doesn’t mind, and often seems to be enjoying it. Sara’s response varies, sometimes edging towards jealousy if she feels threatened, otherwise she’s amazingly good with it. That may be in part because everyone knows of her gigantic peni, and those whom she especially likes are allowed to handle her there, usually through the custom penis pants Rose made for her. She and Dag have shared sex at work, and as long as it’s not too close to any lab tests which may be affected, no one minds. A lot of us have sex at work, given that nearly all mutated people have very high sex drives.
With people Dag doesn’t abide or those who in any way get rough or domineering or presented a sense of entitlement, out comes Classic Dag: fiercely on the attack, no holds barred. Head butts are common in the latter scenario, no issue for him and never ending well for the other party.
We’ve all continued to mutate, so far incrementally rather than dramatically, for the most part.
Mine have been the most subtle, restricted to slight udder and tentacle growth, and breasts remaining bigger by a little bit even when empty.
Rose’s boobs keep growing and she adds new pairs. So far no new arms, but we expect them any time now.
Dag and Sara have been growing longer horizontally in their “horse” sections, so far amazingly in sync. Along with this, Dag’s vag is deeper/longer and Sara’s peni have commensurately lengthened. “It’s like their glandes are destined to always be up here in my face” she tried to complain one day, her smile belying her true feelings on the matter.
Helia’s been so big for so long and rather dynamic in her states between full of milk and empty that it’s hard to tell with her. She must have mutated, because even just after emptying she remains as huge as I remember half a year ago when she was brimming.
Dramatic mutations have been the purview of those living elsewhere, not on Bubblensqueak Lake.
Hetch melted my heart anew seeking change, leading me to lobby for him being included in trials with some of Sara’s stem cell-laden milk. We warned him we had absolutely no control over what would happen, and sure enough it was weird. He did revert to a more human and singular entity form, which he dearly wanted. Arguably less optimal was having that huge vulva which had been on his kitten side wind up directly under his head, facing his chin. It took no effort at all for him to face-plant into his own woman junk, whether he wanted to or not. Thankfully so far, most of the time he wanted to. This did nothing for his productivity, but assuredly helped his quality of life.
The concept of a tail stayed with him, in the form of what had been his well-hung human penis on his puppy side now being a tail above his butt, positioned where most primates with tails have them. He’s happier now, again with the rest of his body being in standard human form, so we’re calling it good.
If you remember my dietician Edie Chew from early in the story, she mutated in a manner requiring a wholesale revision of her life and outlook. In a way her mutations were so different that to most people they didn’t seem like mutations, though she knew better. After a lifetime of being average to barely thicc without trying, she mutated such that anything and everything she ate deposited permanent fat on her body. Not all of everything she ate turned to fat, else she’d literally be as big as a mid-sized house and likely dead from organ failure now, but a small percentage of everything that went into her mouth.
If this had been the only mutation, her situation would have been close to indistinguishable from a number of unmutated people who undergo a severe intestinal microbiome shift, certain head traumas, and/or other known medical mishaps or unknown circumstances. She grew a penis and scrotum beneath her existing vulva, both of them fattening along with the rest of her, and developed the typical mutant hypersexuality. While she’s technically still a dietician and absolutely eats healthily and in strict moderation, she’s exploring life as an infinifat model and fat rights activist, in the latter pursuit lobbying equally for both mutant and non-mutant fat people’s rights.
Life at home on Bubblensqueak Lake is blissfully tranquil. The whole mutant situation long ago stabilized (other than in certain parts of Minneapolis), allowing us to sleep well at night and rest assured that no one will bother us during our days.
Whether at school/work or home or traveling around the state or anything else we do, things are really good so far and for now. However something tells me that major changes are not over yet. For now, I’m staying positive and living my life to its utmost.
Your milky octo-pal,