Biology – Four Point Oh!
Morgan was ambitious. A senior at Wagner-Smith University, she was preparing to make her bid to move on for her doctoral degree in Biology. She had been accepted at three other schools but had yet to be offered a spot in the graduate program, there, at Wagner-Smith.
Entry into the prestigious school was competitive, to say the least. It was expected that each candidate would present their strongest case for the board to decide their fate.
Morgan had been working on a specific formula, the likes of which had never been seen. The project had been hers from the very beginning. Whatever scholastic accolades and financial rewards the formula might win, would go to Morgan.
It had all started in her senior year in high school, when she had been playing around with polymers that could alter the human hair follicle’s ability to reproduce. At first, all the formula succeeded in doing was increasing the amount of hair each follicle would produce.
Morgan still bore the three patches of hair on her calf which needed to be shaved daily to prevent them from becoming unsightly. Not what she was after. No, Morgan’s goal was to invent a product that had just the opposite effect.
By reversing the peptide chain in serum 6 and adding it to the current batch of refined polymers, Morgan had managed to achieve what biologists had considered impossible. She had arrested the hair growth on harvested skin completely and irreversibly as far as she could tell.
Of course, the grafts never lived long enough in the lab to confirm her theory of permanent non-growth. If she was to present this for her senior project and finally win acceptance in the graduate program at Wagner-Smith, she would have to test it on herself.
The lab was empty that evening, the perfect time to try the formula out on a living host. She spied the annoying spots of overgrowth on her left thigh and sighed. After the mishap with the overgrowth formula in high school, Morgan had sworn never to test anything she developed on herself.
“It has to be done.” She said to the partially disassembled skeleton that oversaw her work every night. The pink liquid was extremely thin, requiring great care when handling as its low surface tension made it particularly susceptible to spillage.
Morgan raised her leg onto the bench and eyed the already sprouting hair which she had just shaved that morning. “If this does work, at least I’ll be rid of this little problem.” The skeleton seemed to smile back at her knowingly.
Dipping the pipette into the liquid she slowly released it against her skin. Morgan was amazed at how the formula spread over her skin, well beyond the area she intended to cover. It finally stopped spreading after about a six-inch circumference had been reached. “Hmmm, that’s interesting. A bit more volatile than I had predicted, Charlie.” She looked up at the skull, which was missing its left lateral incisor. Morgan thought it gave him character.
Morgan wondered whether the formula had reacted with the lipids in her skin, causing the rapid spread of the agent beyond the target area. Far less of the formula was applied to the other two areas of overgrowth, with a better and more predictable outcome.
Morgan shut off the lights after she had carefully deposited the three vials of completed formula into her briefcase. The tingling in her calf was a good sign that something was happening down there. By morning, she should know whether her four years of hard work had paid off.
As she turned on the light in the bathroom, Morgan looked down at her leg and was disappointed to find that the hair had continued to grow. She considered shaving it, something she had been doing every morning for four years, but then thought better of it. By the end of the day, she should know whether there was any slowing of the growth.
Deliberately wearing long pants that day, Morgan remained in suspense over what the result of the experiment was going to be. Having covered the patches with gauze she would be able to catch any shedding hair. She could then judge how well the formula had worked, if at all.
Back in her apartment at the end of a busy day, Morgan quickly stripped out of her pants and prepared for the dressing removal. What she found was a bit puzzling, fantastic, but puzzling.
All three patches of hair had no hair growing, whatsoever. The strange thing was, there was no evidence of the hair having fallen out. One gauze was as pristine and hair-free as the next. “What happened to my hair? Hmmm.”
Morgan retrieved a magnifying glass from her briefcase and did a thorough examination of the three areas. None of the original patches showed any evidence of hair follicles at all. So, not only were the follicles inactive, they were non-existent.
She reached down and ran her fingertips over the skin, marveling at its smoothness. It felt like the most exquisite satin, and seemed to be hypersensitive to the touch, almost erogenous in nature. Morgan giggled with excitement.
Morgan carefully removed one of the vials from her briefcase to examine it. “You are my ticket, you glorious pink invention.”
She poured herself a glass of wine to celebrate the breakthrough, drawing a hot bath, being sure to light a few candles placed strategically around the jetted tub. Morgan was going to bask in her success.
Bringing her newfound formula with her, she stripped out of the rest of her clothing and again ran her fingers over her calf, shuddering close to orgasm as she did. “Interesting. Something might need to be tweaked there.”
Morgan set the vial on the edge of the bath and sank into the luxuriously hot water. She picked up her wine glass and toasted in the direction of the vial, smiling, imagining the praise she was going to receive. The potential of this was mind-boggling, she thought.
After a little while, she noticed that her fingers were beginning to pickle and knew it was time for the evening to come to a close. Morgan slid under the water one last time to wet her hair, before climbing out of the tub.
To her dismay, however, when she went to retrieve the vial of formula, it was conspicuously missing. Thinking it may have rolled onto the floor, she knelt, still naked and wet to look on the floor. Nothing. The tub was nearly empty, and she could hear the water sucking into the drain. Morgan suddenly had a terrible thought.
Bolting upright, she scanned the bottom of the tub but saw nothing pink at all. Where had it gone? As the last of the water emptied down the drain, Morgan heard a tapping, like plastic against metal. Examining the tub once again, she was shocked to find the now-empty vial resting against the elevated drain plug.
“Oh, my God!” She wailed. Morgan picked up the vial, surprised to find the lid still firmly attached. What she also saw was the stress crack that had broken out the one side of the vial. “Heat!” Morgan spat. “Damn it, it’s sensitive to heat. That’s why it spread so fast on my skin.”
Frightened, Morgan ran through all her research concerning the effectiveness of the formula in solution, and percentage of dilution as well. Looking at her figures, she thought she just might be safe.
She barely slept at all that night, skipping all her classes the following day to monitor herself for any effect the formula might be having. She did notice an increase in sensitivity, but no hair loss. The only other hair she had besides that on her head, was her pubic hair. Every couple of hours she would check and there did not appear to be any noticeable changes.
It was around eight o’clock the next night that Morgan began to notice her pubic hair had thinned. No, not thinned, it was just shorter. A lot shorter. Moving to the mirror in the bath, she checked her shoulder-length blonde hair, but did not see anything new.
In an odd attempt to monitor what might be happening, Morgan set up her cellphone camera to take an extremely slow time-lapse of her sex. Finally falling asleep around midnight, the camera continued to film Morgan’s privates.
Upon waking in the morning, Morgan was crying out from her sleep, not from grief or pain, but from ecstasy. Each time she moved against her sheets another wave of pleasure wracked through her. Jumping off the bed, Morgan was not surprised to find that her pubic hair was completely absent, her mons and labia almost translucent in their smoothness.
Grabbing her camera and playing back the time-lapse at full speed, she realized that her body wasn’t shedding the hair, it was consuming it. She watched, in horror on the miniature screen as her blonde pubic curls seemed to grow backward into her skin, the follicles sealing themselves, she assumed permanently.
Running into the bath, Morgan’s thick blonde hair was now considerably shorter, sticking almost straight out from her head as if each hair was screaming as it was consumed. “Oh, my God, this can’t be happening!”
Looking at herself more closely, Morgan realized that her eyebrows and eyelashes had been absorbed overnight as well.
Morgan’s scientific brain began to take over. She tried and rationalize what the end product, her body, was going to look like, and feel like. Right away, she concluded that she was going to be completely hairless, probably forever. It was a disturbing thought, a sort of chemically-induced Alopecia Universalis.
The second, and most upsetting part of this, was the erogenization of her skin. The only areas of her body not affected by this were the palms of her hands and soles of her feet. All the rest was over-sensitized on a sliding scale depending on the original hair growth amount. The more hair, the more erogenous the area was.
“Jesus, my head is going to be like a giant clitoris.” She sighed, glumly. And so, Morgan watched as her blonde curls slowly migrated into her scalp, the follicles self-sealing by around five PM that afternoon. Then it began.
Even the slightest air movement across her head caused Morgan to orgasm uncontrollably. To touch it with her fingers was almost painfully exquisite. To top this off, her entire mons was now so sensitive that wearing clothing was entirely out of the question.
Even the lightest dresses rubbing her legs caused her to become aroused. This she could tolerate, even though she felt like a wanton slut most of the time. With help of some fellow students, which in itself was incredibly humiliating, they fashioned a plastic skull cap that only just prevented her from being unable to function. The pussy pod, as Andy Dickerman had named it, was also a form-fitting seal that allowed Morgan to wear normal clothes.
Of course, after that, Morgan was nothing more than a party favor. People would marvel at what happened to her when her skull cap or pussy pod was removed, and being in a constant state of arousal, Morgan was in no condition to refuse them anything they desired.