The Professor’s Obsession

Using a couple of characters from one of the previous AI written stories I posted, I decided to have another go at this. I think it turned out rather well, and I included some AI generated images to go with the story. I hope I didn’t put too many, I felt they fit the story quite well. I might consider going back to add pictures to the other stories, or at least add them to any new ones, if there is enough want for that.

 

 

Morale University was a stark, modern structure of brick and glass that stood out against the backdrop of rolling farmland surrounding the cluster of small, sleepy towns it served. Built to offer affordable education to the local youth, it lacked the ivy-covered charm of older institutions, but boasted state-of-the-art facilities, at least in the science department. The sterile white hallways of the science building often echoed with the hurried footsteps of students and the low hum of ventilation. Dr. Cade Rolland’s microbiology lab, room 217, was no exception.

The bell shrilled, signaling the end of Dr. Rolland’s notoriously difficult afternoon lecture. A collective sigh of relief swept through the room as students began packing their bags. Madison Noir, all six feet of her clad in black, from her chunky platform boots to the lace choker around her neck, moved with a languid grace that belied her inner frustration. Her thick, jet-black hair, usually styled in intricate braids or left to cascade down her back like a silken waterfall, threatened to tangle with the straps of her heavy black backpack. Today, it was simply hanging loose, the sheer length of it pooling around her feet as she stood.

Beside her, Sydney Blaine, a more petite figure with a surprisingly ample frame, wrestled with her own textbooks. Her golden blonde hair, a stark contrast to her dark clothing and makeup, flowed freely to her ankles, the ends brushing the floor. Despite the goth aesthetic they both embraced, Sydney’s sunny hair often drew unwanted attention, a fact she both resented and secretly enjoyed.

“That test is going to be the death of me,” Sydney groaned, zipping her backpack with unnecessary force. “I swear, I understood absolutely nothing he said about bacterial conjugation.”

Madison just grunted in agreement, her deep brown eyes narrowed in thought. “Tell me about it. I feel like I’m drowning in a sea of microscopic organisms. I can’t believe how badly we’re both doing.”

Their abysmal performance in Dr. Rolland’s class had become a shared source of anxiety. Both girls were usually diligent students, but microbiology seemed determined to be their academic downfall.

“Library?” Sydney suggested, already heading for the door, her golden hair swaying behind her.

Madison nodded, her long hair swaying behind her as she followed. Even in platform boots, she had to consciously lift the ends of her hair to prevent them from dragging too much on the linoleum floor. It was a minor inconvenience she barely registered anymore. Sydney, too, was mindful of her trailing golden locks.

The university library was a quiet space, filled with the hushed rustling of pages and the soft glow of desk lamps. They found a secluded table in a far corner, surrounded by towering shelves of scientific journals. For the next two hours, they pored over textbooks and notes, their brows furrowed in concentration. But the complex processes of cellular biology seemed to stubbornly resist their efforts to understand them.

Frustration mounted with each passing minute. Sydney chewed on the end of her pen, leaving faint blue marks on her full lips. Madison repeatedly ran her fingers through her long hair, a nervous habit that usually calmed her, but today only seemed to emphasize her growing agitation.

“This is hopeless,” Sydney finally declared, slamming her textbook shut. “I’ve read this chapter three times, and it still looks like gibberish.”

Madison leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting towards the ceiling. “I know, right? I feel like we’re missing something fundamental. Maybe if we could just see one of his old tests…”

A mischievous glint sparked in her deep brown eyes. She sat up straighter, her gaze now fixed on Sydney. “That’s it!”

Sydney looked at her, puzzled. “That’s what?”

“We break into his office,” Madison stated, a hint of her characteristic arrogance creeping into her voice. “He has to have old tests or answer keys somewhere. It’s the only way we’re going to pass.”

Sydney stared at her, her initial shock slowly giving way to a look of intrigued desperation. “Are you serious? Break into Dr. Rolland’s office?”

“What other choice do we have?” Madison argued, her voice low and conspiratorial. “We’re both failing. If we don’t do something drastic, we’re going to have to retake this whole damn course.”

Sydney considered this, the image of another semester spent battling microscopic organisms filling her with dread. “But… what if we get caught?”

“We won’t,” Madison said with a confidence she didn’t entirely feel. “We’ll be careful. We’ll go when no one’s around.”

A plan began to form in their minds, fueled by desperation and a shared sense of academic inadequacy. They spent the next hour meticulously discussing the logistics, their initial apprehension replaced by a thrill of rebellious excitement.

The following Tuesday, Dr. Rolland’s microbiology class was scheduled for the late morning. As the minutes ticked by and the majority of students filed into the lecture hall, Madison and Sydney lingered outside the science building, their hearts pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation. Sydney’s golden hair flowed around her, catching the gentle breeze.

Just before entering the building, they found a secluded stairwell. Madison pulled out two thick elastic bands. “Alright,” she instructed, “hair up. High ponytails. Out of the way.”

With practiced movements, they both wrangled their hair into ponytails positioned high on the backs of their heads, securing them firmly. The weight of the hair felt substantial but necessary for their clandestine mission.

They waited until they were sure the class had been in session for at least fifteen minutes before making their move. The hallway outside Dr. Rolland’s office, usually bustling with students between classes, was now eerily quiet. They crept along the corridor, their footsteps muffled by the carpet.

Dr. Rolland’s office door, room 223, was a standard university issue, a solid wooden slab with a small windowpane at eye level. They pressed themselves against the wall, listening for any sounds from within, but only silence met their ears.

Madison tried the handle, but as expected, the door was locked. She turned to Sydney, a hopeful look in her eyes.

Sydney reached into the pocket of her black denim jacket and pulled out a small set of lock picks concealed in what looked like a lipstick case. Years of watching true crime documentaries had surprisingly equipped her with this particular skill.

With nimble fingers, she inserted a tension wrench into the bottom of the lock and then carefully slid a pick into the upper part. The only sound was the faint scratching of metal against metal. Madison held her breath, her eyes fixed on the door.

After a tense minute that felt like an eternity, a soft click echoed in the quiet hallway. Sydney grinned triumphantly, retracting the pick.

“Piece of cake,” she mouthed, turning the handle slowly and pushing the door open just enough for them to slip inside.

Dr. Rolland’s office was surprisingly neat. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled with textbooks and scientific journals. A large desk dominated the center of the room, covered with papers, grading rubrics, and a sleek laptop. The air smelled faintly of expensive cologne and the sterile scent of disinfectant.

They closed the door quietly behind them and stood for a moment, their eyes scanning the room.

“Okay,” Madison whispered, her voice barely audible. “You check the bookshelves, I’ll go through the desk.”

They began their search, moving quickly and efficiently. Sydney ran her fingers along the spines of the books, occasionally pulling one out to quickly flip through the pages. Madison carefully opened each drawer of the desk, her heart pounding in her chest as she sifted through files and papers.

What they didn’t know was that Dr. Rolland, a man with a penchant for privacy and a touch of paranoia, had installed a small, discreet security camera in the corner of his office, disguised as a smoke detector. The motion sensor had been activated the moment the door opened.

Meanwhile, in the middle of his lecture, Dr. Rolland’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He subtly pulled it out and glanced at the notification. His blood ran cold as he saw the alert from his office camera: “Motion detected.”

A wave of anger washed over him, quickly followed by a surge of curiosity. Who would be in his office? He excused himself from the lecture, feigning a sudden headache.

“Class, I’m not feeling well,” he announced, his voice strained. “Please review the material we covered today. I’ll see you all next class.”

A murmur of surprise went through the students as Dr. Rolland quickly gathered his belongings and hurried out of the lecture hall. He practically ran down the hallway towards his office, his mind racing with possibilities.

He reached his office door, his hand trembling slightly as he inserted his key. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto two figures frozen in the middle of the room.

Madison and Sydney stood with their backs to him, rummaging through a filing cabinet. They whirled around at the sound of the door opening, their faces pale with shock.

Dr. Rolland leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, a mixture of annoyance and something else entirely in his eyes.

“Well, well, well,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “What do we have here?”

Madison swallowed hard, her usual arrogance completely gone. Sydney looked like she might faint.

“Dr. Rolland,” Madison stammered, trying to regain some composure. “We… we can explain.”

“I’m all ears,” he said, gesturing towards the two chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”

The girls hesitantly sat down, their eyes fixed on their professor. Dr. Rolland walked around his desk and settled into his own chair, his gaze intense.

He knew he should be furious. They had broken into his office, a serious offense that could have severe consequences for their academic careers. He should report them to the university administration immediately.

But as he looked at the two young women sitting before him, his mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. He couldn’t deny that he had noticed them, particularly their… assets. Madison’s imposing height and the way her incredibly long, raven hair seemed to defy gravity, always threatening to engulf her. And Sydney’s equally impressive mane of golden hair, a vibrant contrast to her dark attire, possessing a thickness and sheen that was simply breathtaking.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head. He had a decision to make. Turn them in and follow protocol, or… take advantage of this unexpected opportunity. The risk was significant, but the temptation was almost unbearable.

“So,” he began, his voice calmer now, though still carrying an edge. “Care to tell me exactly what you were doing in my office?”

Madison, ever the bolder of the two, spoke first. “We… we were desperate, Dr. Rolland. We’re both doing so badly in your class, and we were hoping to find some old tests to help us study.”

Sydney nodded in agreement, her eyes wide with nervousness. “We know it was wrong, Dr. Rolland. We’re really sorry.”

Dr. Rolland leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over them. He knew they were telling the truth. Their desperation was palpable.

“I could have you both expelled for this,” he said, letting the threat hang in the air.

The girls flinched, their faces paling even further.

He paused, letting the silence stretch out before continuing. “But… I’m willing to consider an alternative.”

Madison and Sydney looked at each other, a flicker of hope in their eyes.

“What kind of alternative?” Madison asked cautiously.

Dr. Rolland steepled his fingers on his desk, his gaze now intense and unwavering. “I have a… particular interest. A fascination, if you will.” He hesitated for a moment, a flush creeping up his neck. “With hair.”

The girls exchanged confused glances.

“And I’ve noticed,” Dr. Rolland continued, his voice gaining a strange intensity, “that both of you possess… exceptionally beautiful hair.”

Madison and Sydney were taken aback. They had expected a lecture, a punishment, but this was completely unexpected.

“I propose a deal,” Dr. Rolland said, his eyes gleaming with a strange light. “You allow me to film a short video of you… simply playing with your hair. Running your fingers through it, showing its length and texture. And in return, I will overlook this little… indiscretion.”

Madison and Sydney stared at him, speechless.

Dr. Rolland pressed on, sensing their hesitation. “Furthermore,” he added, leaning forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “if you both agree to let me… style your hair, cut it in a way that I find particularly appealing, I will not only forget this ever happened, but I will also guarantee that you both pass my class. No questions asked. A perfect grade, even.”

The girls looked at each other again, their minds racing. The implications of his offer were clear, and a wave of unease washed over them. But the alternative – potential expulsion and certain failure in the class – was far more terrifying.

“Okay,” Madison said finally, her voice resigned. “We’ll do it.”

Sydney nodded in agreement, her cheeks slightly flushed.

A strange smile spread across Dr. Rolland’s face. He stood up and walked over to a large cabinet in the corner of the room. He opened it to reveal an array of professional-looking cameras and lighting equipment.

“Excellent,” he said, his voice now filled with an almost childlike excitement. “I have just the equipment for this.” He began setting up the cameras, adjusting the angles and lighting with practiced ease.

“Alright, ladies,” he said, turning back to Madison and Sydney. “For the video, I think we should start with your hair down. Could you please undo your ponytails?”

Madison and Sydney exchanged a quick glance and then reached up to release their hair. The thick elastic bands were removed, and with a dramatic whoosh, their incredibly long hair tumbled down their backs. Madison’s jet-black mane cascaded down her spine, the sheer weight of it causing her to slightly arch her back. It flowed past her waist, her hips, her knees, finally pooling onto the floor in a dark, glossy mass that seemed to absorb the light. She tossed her head, letting the heavy strands swing, a natural confidence radiating from her as her magnificent hair moved around her.

Sydney’s golden hair followed suit, a waterfall of shimmering blonde that reached her knees and spread out onto the floor around her in a radiant halo. She gently ran her fingers through a few strands near the nape of her neck, carefully working out a couple of minor tangles, her movements more deliberate than Madison’s effortless flaunting.

Dr. Rolland watched them, his breath catching in his throat. His eyes darted between the two women, completely captivated by the sight of their unleashed hair.

“Magnificent,” he breathed, his voice thick with undisguised admiration. “Absolutely magnificent.” He gestured towards the chair in front of his desk. “Sydney, my dear, would you mind taking a seat? We’ll begin with you.”

Sydney then took a seat in the chair. Dr. Rolland, his eyes gleaming with anticipation, handed a pair of professional-grade hair scissors to Madison. He snapped a few more pictures of the two of them, Sydney looking slightly apprehensive and Madison holding the scissors with a thoughtful expression.

“Now, Madison,” Dr. Rolland instructed, his voice laced with anticipation. “Transform Sydney however you see fit.”

Madison turned to her best friend, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. She ran her fingers through Sydney’s still intact golden mane, the silk feeling incredibly luxurious. She pondered for a moment, considering the possibilities. Sydney, with her newfound commitment to the goth aesthetic, still possessed this vibrant, sunny hair. It was an interesting juxtaposition, but perhaps a change was in order. Then it struck her. She had never seen a blonde goth girl with a sharp, chin-length bob before. It was unexpected, edgy, and would certainly be a statement.

“Alright, Blondie,” Madison said, a mischievous glint in her deep brown eyes. “Let’s see how you look with a little less… length.”

She began by sectioning off the front of Sydney’s hair, carefully creating thick, blunt bangs that would fall right at her eyebrow level. With a decisive snip, the first section was gone. Sydney flinched slightly as the golden strands fluttered down onto her lap. Madison continued, her movements precise as she shaped the bangs, ensuring they were perfectly even, framing Sydney’s face with a dark edge despite the blonde hue.

Next, she turned her attention to the rest of Sydney’s hair. Taking a deep breath, she lifted a large section and began to chop away at the length. The sharp scissors sliced through the thick blonde silk with a clean, satisfying sound. Golden hair cascaded around Sydney, forming an ever-growing pile on the floor. Madison worked her way around Sydney’s head, carefully snipping and shaping, her focus intense. She wanted to ensure the bob was perfectly even, hitting just at Sydney’s chin. Each snip released more of Sydney’s glorious length, the golden strands piling up like a miniature haystack around the base of the chair. The contrast between the falling blonde hair and Sydney’s dark clothing was striking.

Halfway through the process, as the golden pile around Sydney’s chair had already reached an impressive volume, Dr. Rolland held up a hand. “Hold it right there, Madison,” he said, his voice filled with excitement. He circled Sydney, taking several more pictures from different angles, capturing the dramatic transformation in progress and the sheer amount of hair that had already been cut.

“Incredible,” he murmured, clearly enthralled by the scene. “Absolutely incredible.”

After his impromptu photoshoot, he nodded to Madison to continue. Madison resumed her work, carefully snipping away the remaining length, shaping the bob, and ensuring the lines were clean and sharp. Finally, with a last few precise snips, she stepped back, satisfied with her handiwork.

“Done,” she announced, a triumphant grin on her face.

Sydney tentatively reached up and touched her new hairstyle. Her fingers traced the sharp line of the bob, feeling the unfamiliar shortness of her hair. She looked down at the massive pile of golden hair surrounding her chair and clinging to her clothes, her eyes widening in disbelief. It was a shocking amount of hair.

Dr. Rolland instructed them to gather the cut hair. Madison carefully swept the golden locks into a neat pile, and then, under Dr. Rolland’s direction, they organized it into a thick ponytail. Dr. Rolland then had Sydney stand and pose, holding the surprisingly heavy golden ponytail in her hand, a look of stunned silence on her face as he snapped several more pictures.

“Alright,” Dr. Rolland said, turning his attention to Madison. “Now, Sydney, it’s your turn. The clippers are all yours. Feel free to get creative.”

Sydney picked up the menacing hair clippers, her eyes fixed on Madison’s long, raven mane. A slow smile spread across her face. Madison had drastically shortened her hair, so it was time for a little payback.

Dr. Rolland, sensing the shift in atmosphere, quickly grabbed his phone. “Perfect!” he exclaimed. “Sydney, stand right behind Madison with those clippers. This is going to be fantastic.” He snapped a few shots of Sydney holding the clippers menacingly close to Madison’s head, a look of mischievous glee in her eyes.

“Alright, Sydney,” Dr. Rolland said, his voice filled with anticipation. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Sydney positioned the clippers at Madison’s forehead, right at the edge of her thick, blunt bangs. With a flick of the switch, the clippers buzzed to life. Madison closed her eyes, bracing herself for the inevitable. Sydney hesitated for a split second, a flicker of guilt crossing her face, before pushing the clippers forward.

A wide strip of raven hair, thick and glossy, disappeared instantly, falling to the floor like a dark, heavy rain. The buzzing of the clippers filled the room as Sydney continued to shave, working her way across Madison’s scalp. Black hair rained down, covering the floor and Madison’s shoulders in a thick layer of raven silk. Sydney, initially hesitant, found a strange sense of satisfaction in mowing down Madison’s impressive mane.

After a significant portion of Madison’s head was shaved, leaving only shorter patches and the still-long hair at the back, Dr. Rolland once again called a halt. “Magnificent!” he exclaimed, circling Madison and taking close-up shots of her partially shaved head, the contrast between the smooth scalp and the remaining long hair striking.

“Alright, Sydney, finish her off,” Dr. Rolland instructed, his voice still buzzing with excitement.

Sydney needed no further encouragement. She continued to shave the remaining sections of Madison’s hair, ensuring a clean, even shave across her entire scalp. Finally, the buzzing stopped. Madison reached up and tentatively touched her bare head, a strange sensation.

Dr. Rolland then instructed them to collect Madison’s shorn hair. Sydney carefully swept the piles of raven silk into a neat pile. Dr. Rolland provided a hair tie, and they organized it into a thick ponytail. He then had Madison hold her black ponytail, while Sydney held her golden one, and he took several pictures of them standing side-by-side, showcasing their dramatically different new looks and the evidence of their transformation.

“Excellent,” Dr. Rolland said, taking both ponytails and placing them carefully in a drawer of his desk. “A memento of our… agreement.” He then ensured all the loose strands of hair were gathered, leaving the office clean.

He then turned to his laptop and made a few quick adjustments to their online gradebook. “Consider it done,” he said, a satisfied smile on his face. “A promise is a promise.”

He glanced at his watch. “Alright, ladies, I think that’s enough excitement for one day. You should probably head back to your dorms. And remember,” he added, his tone becoming serious, “you still need to attend my classes. We don’t want anyone getting suspicious about your sudden improvement or your… new looks.”

Madison and Sydney nodded, still slightly dazed by the events of the past hour. They gathered their backpacks. As they reached the door, Madison instinctively ran her hand over her smooth scalp, a surprised smile spreading across her face. She couldn’t stop rubbing it, the sensation both strange and exhilarating.

“Thank you, Dr. Rolland,” Madison said, a hint of her old arrogance returning, though tinged with a newfound sense of the absurd.

“Of course,” he replied, his eyes lingering on Madison’s shaved head. “It was my pleasure.”

As they walked out of Dr. Rolland’s office, their drastically altered hairstyles a stark contrast to their usual looks, they couldn’t help but glance at each other, a silent understanding passing between them.

Back in their dorm room, they immediately went to the mirror.

Madison stared at her reflection, her smooth, bald head looking surprisingly striking against her pale skin and dark eyes. She couldn’t stop touching it, a constant, almost addictive sensation. “Huh,” she said, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I actually don’t hate it.”

Sydney, however, was a different story. She examined her chin-length bob, turning her head from side to side. “Oh my god,” she groaned, running her fingers through the short strands. “I look like a soccer mom. I look so fat!”

Throughout the following week, Madison and Sydney navigated a gauntlet of reactions and teasing.

“Madison! What in the hell happened to your hair?” their friend Liam exclaimed, spotting her shaved head in the crowded cafeteria.

Madison shrugged, a confident smirk playing on her lips. “Decided to go for a more aerodynamic look. Helps with studying.”

Liam stared, then chuckled. “Aerodynamic? You look like you’re about to join the military. But hey, you pull it off.”

Sydney received a more concerned reaction from their friend Chloe. “Sydney? Your hair! It’s… short.”

Sydney forced a bright smile. “Yeah! Got a new style. What do you think?”

Chloe’s eyebrows furrowed. “It’s… very different. You had such beautiful long hair.”

“Needed a change,” Sydney said quickly, avoiding eye contact.

Even some of their professors commented on their new looks. “Ms. Noir,” Professor Thompson from their English class said, peering at Madison with a mixture of curiosity and surprise. “That’s quite the… bold statement you’re making with your hairstyle.”

Madison met his gaze confidently. “Just embracing my inner minimalist, Professor.”

“And Ms. Blaine,” Professor Miller from their history class remarked, looking at Sydney’s bob. “A rather significant departure from your previous style. Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s great, Professor,” Sydney assured him, feeling a blush creep up her neck. “Just felt like trying something new and fresh for the semester.”

The following week, Madison and Sydney sat in Dr. Rolland’s microbiology class, their drastically different hairstyles drawing subtle glances from their classmates. Madison, with her smooth, bald head, occasionally caught Dr. Rolland’s eye, a faint, knowing smile passing between them. Sydney, sporting her chin-length bob, fidgeted with the shorter strands, a far cry from the long, flowing locks she was used to. As Dr. Rolland droned on about the intricacies of the microbial world, a wave of nostalgia washed over Sydney. She leaned over and whispered to Madison, her voice barely audible above the professor’s lecture.

“Remember how we used to sit in boring classes and just braid each other’s hair?”

Madison’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Yeah,” she whispered back, her fingers instinctively reaching up to touch her smooth scalp. “You’d spend half the time trying to figure out new ways to style my braid so it wouldn’t drag on the floor.”

Sydney chuckled softly. “And you’d always play with my ponytail, twirling it around your fingers like it was a rope. God, it feels so weird not having all that hair anymore.”

Madison nodded, a hint of longing in her eyes. “I know. Sometimes I still reach back to feel it, and there’s just… nothing.” She rubbed her head again, a thoughtful expression on her face. “But hey,” she added, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes, “at least we passed.”

Sydney grinned, a genuine smile finally breaking through her earlier regret. “Yeah. For that, I guess a little less hair is a price we were willing to pay.” They shared a silent laugh, a bond forged in shared desperation and a bizarre encounter with their hair-obsessed professor, the memory of their floor-length manes now a fond, slightly unbelievable anecdote.