This one actually was inspired by an old artwork of mine I came across, found here. Needless to say, I got inspired enough to steal from myself for this universe!
Oh what a night! Late December back in ‘63...
The radio started playing the Four Seasons, waking up Marc late Saturday morning. His DJ set lasted until 2am the night before, and it was his best. Grabbing records and remixing them on the fly, overlaying three, four, five at a time. He was having too much fun that late set after a large drink.
Now, the cougar stirred to an appropriate song, and placed a hand on his feline muzzle... brushing up against another pair of ears. The sensation made him trace back to where his ears should be... and he found them where they were, slightly moved up on his head closer to his tall mohawk, and another right underneath of it. Or was it the other way around?
At least his head was on his side, and it felt like his mohawk wouldn’t need to be redone. It was always a chore to do... but checking it with more hands... two, three hands? And more on his muzzle? This got him even more awake. Something felt odd.
He planted his hands onto the bed and pushed himself up against the wall, opening his eyes. From there he saw more of himself that what he had yesterday since leaving work at the record store. He sported two chests, supporting four arms. The fifth and sixth felt like wings but more functional and more useful. His torso lengthened, going from a barely showing six pack to a defined twelve pack. But between his legs is what got him smiling.
His hips were widened to accommodate a thick cock, nearly the size of his legs and reaching down to his paws, nestled in a busload of volleyball-sized testicles in a stuffed ballsac that stretched down just as far. It was like a bed of balls had been laid perfectly out to cradle his man meat. It looked like it was intelligently designed.
The whole thing nicely contrasted is newly green fur with a light green chest and torso. Three tails twitched, tipped in light green.
“Well, then.” Marc said. “Lets see how easy this will be.” Some shifting and moving, and the changed cougar got up. A few missteps to the bathroom had him hip-bumping everything, a lesson not too easily forgotten. But to his surprise, all his balls kept in formation; it was like they were hung perfectly with care.
Some posing in front of the mirror confirmed his earlier examination, before he stretched out some stiffness. A hot shower, brunch, and a call to his neighbor, Red, was in order. That other stretched-out cougar could get a kick out of this.
“What did you mix this time?” Cyren growled to a cocky-looking Dan at the Dragon’s Horde.
“I haven’t named them yet.” Dan replied, folding two... four... six arms. ”And I’m still haven’t gotten the results out of the Intelegently Hung shot.”
“And the one you haven’t named is what got you the arms for wings?”
“Correct, I’m reusing the anatomy a bit... although with being stacked like this I can add another pair below this. Or redo the wings up top and the arms below.”
“No wonders why I got that inquiry from the university. First year in med school?”
Dan nodded. “With how we’re adjusting things, it’s best we see how modern medicine will react... and how we react to modern medicine.”
Cyren tilted his head, a mean feat with his musculature. A moment of thought turned into a reply, “Guess I better break out my special reserve for weekly meetings, then. There’s a lot more I have to teach you.”
At that time the door to the bar opened up, and two cougars came in: The nearly triplicated and oversized stretch-cougar Red, and the slim stretched DJ Marc. Dan noticed and said “Oh, the results came in!”
“Hey Dan!” Red said as the two approached the bar, waving three left arms on a triple-stack chest. ”Looks like you got my neighbor in for a dye job.”
“Hey, he’s a damn good DJ.” Dan said to Red and Marc. “Even better when the extras took. Didn’t get your name, though...”
“I’m Marc, with a C,” Marc said. ”What the hell did you charge my beer with? That was great!”
Cyren slowly moved around the counter, as Dan excused him. “About fourteen shots of ‘Intelligently Hung’, a fair bit of Murrose, an Octopod, a Ferrinter, and we’re considering the names for three others, although I think I’m going to name your color change a Mint DyeJob. Mind my boss though. Doc Cyren’s interested in my work.”
Marc snerked at the pun and said “Glad I’m keeping it all then. Red and I was wondering about some naming as well. We’d guessed that you’d name the back arms shot ‘Wingman’s Arms’ and the extra ears a ‘Hearing Aid’.”
From behind Marc, Cyren quietly asked “Can you move your rear arms all the way back for me for a minute?”
“That’ll cost you a beer,” Marc said, all four ears flattening back.
“You got the entire bar paying for you last night, so you got credit on your tab.”
Red nodded, saying “He’s got you there,” with a left head and “Hey Dan, how about an overnight Scarlet DyeJob shot?” with his right head.
Dan nodded and mixed a short as Marc sighed. He stretched his arms back, touching his back shoulders to each other. This opened Cyren’s eyes wider than any bar record before, before mumbling “I’ll be in my bunk” and zooming into his office.
Dan smiled, and asked Marc “Relax. You just gave Cyren something new. So, you’re going to be a six fisted drinker now?”
Marc said “Nah, that’s Red’s job. Gimmie a Boston Lager and hold the change.”
“Sure.” Dan said, giving a depthcharged beer to Red. “Here’s your DyeJob, Red.”
“Thanks, Dan.” Red’s right head said. His middle said “Have you thought of a DJ nickname?”
“Not yet,” Marc said, “and I’m open to suggestions.”
“DJ Hex” Red said in triplicate.
“Good one.” Dan said, “Some folks were wondering what you were mixing.”
“Good question!” Marc said. “Is all my stuff still here? I need to get it back to the record shop.”
“Archie moved it to the office. He’s got a CD already of your set, if you want to listen to it.”
“Oh nice. Once I get back to the store I can... hmmmm...” Marc thought. “You know, I wonder if these extra ears work.”
“There’s an idea.” Dan said as Red’s fur slowly reddened. He went over to the backoffice door and said “Hey Archie? Got that old Discman? The DJ’s back and he wants to listen to last night’s mix.”
“Sure! Let me put some fresh batteries in it.” a voice replied in stereo. A bit of shuffling, and the arrival of Red’s herm snow leopard mate Kathy, produced the six armed, two-headed doberman came out with the CD, a Sony Discman player, and a set of headphones.
“Oh, hey Red.” the doubled doberman said. “You’re looking off color. Who’s the cougar looking a bit green?”
“You’re seeing a new shot I’ve invented, Archie.” Dan answered. ”And the green cougar’s the DJ, Marc. Marc, Archie, our geek in residence.”
“Oh hi!” Marc said. “Marc with a C. I saw you in the sound booth.”
“Yeah, you did a good mix.” Archie said. ”One of the best in the bar’s history. I got your stuff in my office. Here, take a listen.” He loaded up the Discman and landed the headphones to Marc, who put them in his lower ears.
“Hit it, Archie.”
Archie hit play... and Marc’s eyes rolled up and said “Oooooohhhh did I do good. Let me see....” The green cougar then took the headphones out and put them in his upper ears. “...ooooh those work just as good. In fact, I think my hearing is better, just by the pairs alone.”
“I think you did surround sound as well. I got a four-track M4A if you want it.”
“Oooooh man, mixing that down... Yeah, as soon as I find a player for it.”
Kathy purrred in surround sound, snuggled up to Red and smooching one head. ”I know a few people that’ll do it. In fact, they could use some more helpful hands with that.”
Red purred back “I think we should invite them here.”
Marc added “And have them listen to the six handed mixes of DJ Hex. Same time next week?”
Dan grinned, as Archie penciled in another day where someone will be drunk on the groove at the Dragon’s Horde.
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