Disclaimer: This story is intended for adults only (18+). It contains sexual themes and mind control, which are not intended for everyone. If you don’t like seeing people altered in numerous ways, often sexual, please feel free to view other postings on this blog. Also, please review the information in the About section of this blog.
Author’s Note: This is the start of a new anthology within my Passions Multiverse. It is in the same vein as Transformative Properties with each featuring some from of TF. Also, all but the last of these will be exclusive to this blog. Enjoy!
New Transformations: Hair Dye
‘A Human test subject,’ I thought to myself. My boss, Dr. Cornelia Reynolds, wanted to further her experiments with her retrovirus. Given the right tools she theorized that it could do whatever she programed it to do. However, not all tools agreed with it. Not long ago, she applied some Amazonian plant to it with inconclusive results, scrapping the whole experiment. Of course, she never experimented on Humans until she knew it was safe and reversible.
Her current experiment was to use hair dye as a medium. It was to be a “direct configuration” experiment, meaning that there would be no other tools used. Though, I would be able to monitor the experiment with software she wrote for my laptop. I asked her more than once about how she programed her retrovirus, but she said that I wasn’t obligated to know. She did play a mean game of poker!
I was to be discrete, while I was to choose someone from a list of women she received from the research firm where she consulted. Well, it was from a friend there I didn’t yet know. Eventually, I zeroed in on Anna Blake. She was a brunette, had blue eyes, was five feet and eight inches, and maintained a healthy body. She was twenty-five, and fresh out of a master’s program. What made me choose her was a brief comment in the description: “considering to dye hair blonde.”
Her not allowed to be aware of the experiment, I needed to at least contact the subject. I found her at a local bar she was known to traverse on weekends with her friends. She was not looking for anyone. In fact, it was her friends that always brought her there. Her friends were off flirting, while she quietly sat at her table.
“Is that seat taken?” I asked generically.
She gave me a “seriously” look, and said, “Yes, but my friends won’t stop you from sitting!”
I sat, not quite sure how to translate her reaction. “I’m John.” I extended my hand politely.
She shook my hand, “Anna.” After a good chug of beer, she asked, “You’re not here to flirt are you?”
“Not exactly,” I replied truthfully. “Don’t go to bars much. Thought I’d be a bit assertive, since I’m here.”
She chuckled, “Better not be lying, John. My friends bite!” Anna looked toward her blond friend Sally.
“I’m sure they do,” I said, looking over to her sexy friends. “Is this one of them? The blonde?”
“Very pretty. Love her hair,” I said casually.
“You trying to get to my friends through me?” she asked jokingly.
“No, just making conversation, Anna.”
“Well … You do have a point, John. Her hair is pretty. Been thinking of going blonde, myself.” She took another swig.
“You’d look good blonde, Anna,” I said truthfully. Though, I thought she looked just fine as a brunette.
“Really?” she batted her subtly drunken eyes.
“Yeah … I hope this isn’t too forward, Anna, but I am good friends with a stylist that uses very special dyes.” I immediately regretted the latter half of that comment, because I thought it revealed too much.
“What do you mean?” she asked with genuine curiosity.
“I don’t know the specifics. Don’t make ‘em! But, she has a very durable kind of dye that simply won’t degrade through exposure.” That may have been a lie. I wasn’t really sure what kind of dye she was using.
“Really? Is it a permanent dye? I’m not sure if I want to stick with the color forever!” she smiled. I could tell I had her already, but only because she was a little drunk. I always had that kind of face and voice that imbued trust, and that was one of the reasons Reynolds let me work with her. That and my somewhat neutralized morality for the sake of science.
“Technically, yes, but it’s something new. It can be removed with a perfectly natural chemical, but it should last like any permanent dye.” I was assuming what was to happen to her was reversible.
“Hmm, I was planning to talk to my own hair dresser … How ‘bout we exchange numbers?”
Smiling pleasantly, I answered, “sure.” We plugged in our numbers into our cellphone, and made further small talk.
“I never do this!” she exclaimed, walking into the lab. I explained to her over the phone that the dye was still being tested in the lab, while the successful Human trials were nearly done. I always loved mixing lies with the truth! That twisted charisma was why Dr. Reynolds hired me a year ago in 2012. Sure, I just happened to also be a genetics expert, but my consulting work for my favorite scientist was always the most worth while.
“Don’t worry, Anna! You’re gonna be just fine.” I fished out a key card for a local, high end hotel from my pocket, and handed it to her. We were quite a way from her home, and I convinced her to do this as a kind of vacation. It was always easier to have subjects separated from the world in these kind of experiments.
I considered it quite the coop to recruit Anna. She was a rare breed as smart as she was beautiful. According to her profile, she had an IQ of over 140, and had a masters degree in Computer Science. She currently works for a local robotics company, and has many friends within and without that company. While not the case until recently, she was now single. I was assured that we would not have her for long. Reynolds and I are not stupid enough to really kidnap someone!
“How’s the patient, John?” Dr. Reynolds stated lightly, while she walked into the room. I turned to see my favorite scientist with the special materials in hand. There was little doubt I lusted for her, even though she was numerically middle aged, while she looked barely twenty-five. She had long chestnut hair, tall and full figure, and green eyes she currently covered with thin brimmed glasses. I loved fucking her as much as she loved fucking me in all possible ways. She recently revealed to me that her secret of regained youth was due to her retrovirus, but was rarely able to replicate the results.
“Oh, she’s ready, Cornelia!” I exclaimed. I turned to Anna, and said, “This is Cornelia.”
“Hi, happy to meet you,” she said perkily, while they lightly shook hands.
“Please have a seat, Anna,” Reynolds requested pleasantly.
Anna sat on the gushy barber’s chair in front of the mirror. I placed the shiny black smock over the woman, before Reynolds stated, “Now, I will first apply the primer, which will clean all the impurities out of your hair, and prepare the hair and roots for colorization.” She squeezed the clear gel inter her vinyl gloved hand, and began to work it into her hair and scalp. The gel had no transformative properties, while it was specifically created to aid the experimental dye.
The gel interestingly was absorbed after only a couple of minutes, while making the dark hair rather shiny. Reynolds did a quick glove change, and began to work the bright yellow dye into Anna’s hair with her educated fingers.
After several minutes of Anna’s kneading, Anna said drowsily, “I fell funny …”
“That’s just the fumes, Anna, you’ll be fine. It’s much healthier than breathing in any of those bleach fumes!” she exclaimed. Reynolds was toying with her for her own amusement; there were no fumes. The retrovirus in the dye was already doing its work, probably already within her brain.
“Actually,” Anna mumbled, “I feel kin’a good …” Reynolds and I smiled diabolically, before Anna passed out. Reynolds worked for several more minutes to work in the rest of the special dye …
Reynolds and I almost voyeuristically watched Anna experience a massively wet dream via closed circuit TV. She was still in the same building as the lab, but her suite was made to look like an expensive hotel
“So her intelligence is now cut in half?” I asked, while Anna writhed in pleasure.
“Or, will be soon. That’s probably quite variable, John!”
“I must admit it was a bit aggressive on your part to ALSO increase her libido, Cornelia.”
“Well, my John, you know it was going to lead there anyway,” she said with a deviously sexy look in her eyes. Human sexuality was always a major focus in her research. “I’m also continuing my research into improved physicality and prolonged youth.” She may have been touch and go with age reversal, but prolonged youth and improved physicality was a far more successful path thus far, albeit far from consistent as well.
We soon watched her explode in her first orgasm of the night, the first of many …
Anna woke up the next morning in a bed moist from her sweat and cum. She did not mind it, or at least, didn’t put much thought into it. Her arousal from her wet dreams was still quite strong.
She soon hopped into the hot shower, after having considerable trouble figuring out how to use it. Almost automatically, she began to masturbate widely. This was not normal behavior for her, but she was unable to put any thought into it. The floor of the tub was not designed to handle the wild motions, so she kept slipping. While she instinctually kept a handhold on the legally mandated safety bar, it took her quite a while to realize that she should fuck herself while sitting on the tub floor.
The shower was soon tickling her pussy while she rubbed and fingered. Her other hand squeezed her aroused breasts, before traveling round trip from head to toes. “Oh, Gah! OH FUCK ME …. ERRR-YEAHHHH!” She yelled in orgasm.
After she lay for a while, savoring the orgasmic bliss, she frustratedly fiddled with the shower nob, and shut it off. She dried herself off, and was soon admiring her blonde hair in the large mirror.
There was a sudden knock on the main door. Anna tried to wrap the towel around herself like she did countless times, but had serious trouble. Instead, she grabbed a gushy robe from the rack.
She soon opened the door to me. I had a cart filled with a continental breakfast spread. “I didn’t call for breakfast yet,” she said sounding very confused.
“I though I should surprise you. I know some of the management. Not a big deal.” I smiled disarmingly. My experience with IQ reduction in Reynolds’ experiments told me how suggestive the subjects became.
We were soon sitting and munching on the eggs and toast. I stated truthfully, “You look great! The new color makes you really sexy!”
“Thanks, I know!”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you really take my breath away, Anna.”
She looked me over with an aroused smile, and began to feel up my legs with her bare feet. “Never played footsie before, John, but I, like, always thought about it …”
“Did you know that there are rules to footsie, Anna?” I asked slyly with a disarming smile.
She became very confused. With her current intelligence, it was not difficult to do, while it amused me. Anna asked, “There are?” She put her feet down.
“Well, it’s kind of like the game Truth or Dare. I mean, if called a ‘game’ then it has to have rules!”
Anna was still confused, but I was sure she was now intrigued. “What’s the rules?”
“OK! Whoever starts the game is the only one capable of winning,” I pulled out of my ass. “However, whoever starts can still loose.”
“This is complicated!”
“Yes, so pay close attention … In order to win, you must make the looser cum with what made you capable of winning.”
“So, what do I use?” she asked seriously.
I almost laughed at how her reduced IQ was showing. “Your feet!” I said excitedly.
“I can’t loose now!” she exclaimed, before rubbing my crotch through my pants.
I undid my pants and freed my cock so she could “win” the game I all but created. She was soon rubbing my cock rather sloppily with her feet. She never did such a thing before, but I kind of liked her amateur method. Can’t say I have a foot fetish, but I am always very open to all kinds of sexuality. “Feet are pretty awesome, aren’t they?”
“I guess so!”
I lay back, and enjoyed. She stroked fast and hard. My heart raced, while I grunted.
“This is, like, awesome! Can I rub myself?”
“Oh, yeah!” I exclaimed. I wanted to adjust her impressionable mind more, but I was too lost in her stroking! I grunted loudly, while I spewed all over her feet. “Now … that you’ve won, you can now eat my cum …”
“Really?” she asked confused, hand a bit wet from rubbing her crotch.
“It’s the most delicious thing for a woman, especially after winning a game of footsie!” I said, catching my breath.
She flexed her feet to her mouth, and after cautiously tasting, she hungrily cleaned my cum off her feet.
Before I left, I stated to her, “Trust me, everything you need is in this room for a good time! Masturbate to some porn, or whatever! Nothing like masturbating the day away, Anna.”
A couple hours later, I walked into the observation room to find Cornelia watching the monitor of Anna widely masturbating, sweating. She obviously wanted to have a greater sexual stamina thanks to my suggestion, and the retrovirus clearly obliged.
“Loose count of her orgasms, yet, Cornelia?” I asked jokingly.
She lustfully smiled back at me. “Fifteen, according to my metrics! Nice work earlier. She’s very responsive.”
I sat next to her, and asked, “What would you say her IQ is now?”
“Well, it was about seventy from its initial one-forty, when she gave you your foot job … Hmm, that would make it about fifty-five now. The retrovirus was not programed to go further than that.”
“Wow! I think that’s the most reduction you’ve done.”
“I was going was going for a bimbo, John,” she said dryly. “OK, the retrovirus was primed to make her wants reality to the best of its ability. Obviously, she’s lost too much intelligence now to have any more aberrant wants …”
“Hose loving, foot loving, sexually narcissistic nymphomaniac?” I asked almost casually.
She answered sarcastically, “Why, John, of all the times we fucked, I should have known how sick in the head you were!”
Several packs of pantyhose in hand, I knocked on Anna’s door. Soon after, she opened the door naked. She was slick with sweat and pussy juice. Her scent was pungent, but it definitely aroused me.
“Ya gonna fuck me?” she asked with great want, and giggled.
Before I could answer, she leaped onto me, and we made out widely. I closed the door behind me, before I carried the lust machine to the couch. The hose were tossed on the coffee table. I had to just fuck her first!
I was soon naked, and humping the woman as wildly as she humped me. Often, I liked to hold back to prolong the moment, but Anna just wanted to fuck and fuck. I felt all over her body, not just for the lust of it, but to see if the retrovirus did as programed for her body. Though I had not groped her to this extent prior, she felt considerably tighter and more toned than how she looked earlier. She was already sexy, but she was now improved physically. Even more importantly, her groping of me suggested that her muscles were also more efficient than the average Human’s. Whether she knew it or looked like it, she was stronger than me!
“OH YES, JOHN, YES! FUCK ME. FUCK!” she screamed in orgasm. Her screams and spasming pussy made me erupt into her with even greater passion.
Anna was all over me moments later, trying to make me fuck her again, but I had to resist for just a moment. “Anna, I need you to listen for just a sec, OK?”
She looked disappointed, but sat up next to me.
“I brought you a gift!”
“Really? I so happy!” she exclaimed, not even realizing the missing “me.”
“Yup, I bought you pantyhose!” I picked up the opaque suntan ones, and handed them to her. “Now, when you put them on, you will realize how sexually attractive you are. You already are turned on by and obsessed with yourself (you have been fucking yourself), but the hose will help you to understand. You love your feet the most. I could tell by the way you fucked me with them earlier. You will want to show your feet off as often as you can, but you also want to take very good care of them. Heals are OK sometimes, but you need to wear good, supportive shoes to maintain their beauty. A good foot rub daily from yourself or others goes a long way, too.”
There was a confused yet amazed look on her face. While she was likely no longer intelligent enough to consciously process all that I stated, all the commands still went through, and that was usually enough for the remarkable retrovirus to extrapolate.
She couldn’t keep her eyes off herself, while she put on her new hose. Her breathing was long and deep, while she felt up and down her legs and feet with first her fingertips and then her whole hand. “So soft …” she breathed.
“Well, you are fucking hot!”
“Oh, yeah,” she exclaimed, while rubbing her crotch and feeling herself from head to toe.
I casually placed her feet on my bare lap, and began to worship them with my mouth and hands.
“Love that!” she cooed.
While I loved worshiping her feet more, I wanted to see how much she loved herself. “Show me how much you love yourself. Make love to yourself.”
Without a word, the narcissistic bimbo began to worship our body, now naked save for the tan hose. Her motions were so beautiful, so erotic, there was no doubt she loved herself. She barely touched her pussy, now making a very wet spot on her hose, while she moaned and cooed louder than ever.
“OH, fuck … fuck ME! ANNA … ANNA … YEAHH!” she cooed in orgasm. “Anna,” she whispered to herself, while holding herself in her arms.
“Sleep Anna. Dream of yourself. Dream of loving yourself,” I said quietly.
We restored her IQ and altered Anna’s memories soon after, while the retrovirus became a stealthy permanent resident and molecular tag for further research, like with prior subjects. She would simply remember a pleasant albeit solitary vacation, where she changed her hair color with special dye, and became more physically active. Yes, we did not restore her original self completely. She will always be the hose loving, foot loving, narcissistic nymphomaniac, who has super efficient muscles. Her longevity was possibly increased as well. She will, however, slowly come to understand all that on her own.