Short Story 03

Author's Note: This is part of series of short stories. They are written very quickly and are not edited. They are also VERY weird and are not for everyone. You have been warned.

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My name is Toni Sinclair. I am 19 years old, currently taking a gap year before heading to college, and am single. By choice. Not because I'm religious, far from it actually, but because I have a secret, one I'm not eager for some boy (or girl) to find out about. Now, the natural reaction of anyone reading this would be; what is her secret? Well, sit back and read on.

Looking at me, none would think anything out of the ordinary. Just a plain teenage girl, maybe kind of cute, but still fairly plain. I've got 30B cups, a little chubby waist at 28'', and my hips are barely noticeable at 30''. My mother's side of the family is Irish, so naturally she's a redhead, as am I. My skin isn't too pale, thankfully, all thanks to my naturally tanned father, though he bounced when I was ten. I stand at 5'4'' with a fairly decent proportion between my limbs and torso. Like I said, plain.

Well, I lied about my hair. I should be a redhead; my eyebrows are a dark crimson. But there's one problem, not a small one either. I'm bald. Save for my aforementioned eyebrows and a faint tuft of pubic hair, also nice and red, I'm totally hairless. Some might think I'm in chemo therapy, but I'm not. I'm perfectly healthy in fact, rarely even catch a cold. I'm just bald.

I'm always reminded of this fact every morning. I wake up, sit in front of a mirror and select a wig for the day. I guess I'm kind of lucky, since I can choose whether to be a brunette, blonde, or indeed any colour of the rainbow. But it's not my hair. It's all someone else's, donated for people who actually deserve it. Not for someone with a strange genetic quirk. And yet, I always put one on for fear of being made fun of by people out on the streets.

Well no longer. Even as I write this, I'm on my way to a doctor's clinic. She approached me a few days ago having heard of my condition, and said that she was eager to help, pro bono. I'm not stupid, so I did my research into her. Her name is Riley Blare, or Doctor Blare to her clients. She has her own website, where plenty of people have written nothing but praise for her. After my worries were alleviated, I accepted her offer.

Now I sit in her waiting room. It's small and cosy, a line of leather chairs facing a reception desk where a humming young secretary sat, working on a crossword. Certificates decorated the walls, along with the occasional picture of Doctor Blare. She was gorgeous, easily a 10/10. Flawless skin, perfect proportions to create an hourglass figure, and a smile that oozed warmth. If this worked, I might have to try my hand at getting a date with her.

A few minutes after I had taken my seat, I was called into the examination room. My heart pounded nervously. I hadn't shown anyone my secret, besides my family's doctor and parents. Even my few friends didn't know. Nonetheless, I stepped inside and took a new seat, facing the beautiful doctor.

"Pleasure to meet you Toni. I'm Doctor Blare." She said, extending a hand in greeting. I took it, slightly dumbfounded by her beauty. She looked even better than in her pictures.

"S-Same." I stammered, to which she only smirked. I felt my cheeks flush in embarrassment.

"Now then, let's discuss my little offer, shall we?"

"Sure."

"Good. Like I said before, I've been developing a little drug for people like you, well, bald people in general really, but I digress. It's about ready to be put on the market, but the higher-ups want testimony from a satisfied user. And so," She pulled out a small bottle that rattled with its contents, "I want you to be that satisfied user."

I glanced at the bottle, then back to her. She seemed genuine about wanting to help me. I picked it up to examine it. There were no labels.

"No labels? Seems kind of shady don't you think?" I said, to which she chuckled.

"I had a patient in a short while ago who said much the same thing. It's only because it's not ready for marketing yet. Once it gets approved, I promise you we'll label it." She said, grinning all the while. I eyed her, searching for any signs that she was lying. Either she was serious about this, or a really good actress. I couldn't find any hint of deceit.

"Well, okay. So, how many do I take?"

"Just one a day will do. You should see results in a few days," Blare explained as she pulled out a card from her breast pocket, "And if anything out of the ordinary happens, call me."

"Out of the ordinary being?" I asked and took the card.

"Who knows? Maybe your hair moving on its own? Developing a fetish for hair? Turning blue." She shrugged and chuckled. I joined her, convinced she was a kind woman. Funny too. Just my type.

"Got it."

"Come back in a week if nothing comes up." She said as I stood to leave.

"Sure. I guess I'll see you in a week."

"Bye." With that I left and headed back home.

My mum was away on a business trip, so I had the house to myself. Complete privacy to try out my new experimental drug in peace. I popped one for today and went about my business. When I went to sleep, my head felt slightly itchy, but it was mercifully ignorable. My dreams that night were filled with a visage of myself, natural hair of a deep crimson flowing behind me as I draped an arm over Blare's shoulders. It's a miracle that it wasn't a wet dream.

When I woke up, my head was still itchy. Just barely bearable. No sign of hair, but there was still some time to go, and the itching seemed like a positive sign that the pills were having some effect. So I popped another pill and pursued my own interests as I did before. I studied a few things, watched YouTube videos and found myself hooked on a weird anime called Bobobo-bo Bo-bobo. All about hair no less.

I went to bed late that night and once again dreamed possessing flowing locks of hair and a gorgeous girlfriend. Like before I woke up, but this time the itching was gone. I reached up to check my head, expecting the usual feeling of smooth skin. Instead, my fingers brushed against bristles of what could only be hair. I ran to my mirror and I saw strands of hair on my head! They were short and somehow made me look even less feminine than before, but they were hairs.

I'm an impatient person at heart. Especially when I get excited about something. I'm sure in hindsight, my next action would be seen as stupid, but at the moment I couldn't care less. I grabbed the bottle and popped out three pills. Doesn't take a genius to guess what I'm thinking; more pills = more hair and faster. Simple logic, right?

And I was right. Throughout the day, my head itched more than ever, but it was still fairly ignorable, if a touch maddening. But it was worth, since I could practically see my hair growing before my eyes. I can't help grinning now, just thinking about the fact that I'll be able to actually style my own hair. Thinking about it though, I might be obsessed over it. But who cares? I deserve the chance to be a little obsessive.

Going to sleep, my newly grown hair hung just above my eyes. No adverse side effects either, except the itching, but that's to be expected all things considered. With that in mind, I decided to pop another two before bed. Well, two at first, then I shrugged and thought 'to hell with it' and added a third. After a little bit of discomfort from the itching, I soon found myself in dreamland back with my luscious head of hair desired girlfriend.

Then I woke up as normal. I could feel a new, completely unfamiliar weight on my head. Excited, I got up and ran to my mirror, greeted by possibly the brightest smile I've ever seen in my life. Flowing over my shoulders in straight locks of brilliant red, was my hair. Mine. All mine. Not some donated wigs hair, not a hallucination and not bunch of hand drawn strands (yes, I tried doing that as a kid). Every inch of it was mine.

I wanted to jump for joy, to clap my hands and sing 'Sweet Victory'. Well, I didn't go through with that but I did release a quick squeal of delight and ran my hands through the locks. As I did so, my grin faded. Looking in the mirror, my hair looked perfectly fine. Thick and healthy, and a vibrant red colour. But now, as I ran my hands through it, something was wrong. I should be able to feel the separate strands in each lock of hair, right? Well, I couldn't.

"What the hell?" I asked aloud, knowing I wouldn't get any answers. I hefted some up. It almost felt like linguine, but it was definitely hair. For a moment, I considered just calming down and talking to Blare about it. It wasn't really a bad thing. Sure, I'd look like I never showered or something, but hair is hair after all. Then I noticed them. At the tips of each conjoined lock of hair was a bulbous head, exactly like that of a dick.

I didn't waste any time and grabbed my phone. I dialled Blare's number.

"Hello?" She said.

"What the fuck did you do to me?!" I screeched.

"First of," She said after a pause, "Calm down. Secondly," She added before I could speak, "I know what you're talking about and it's all part of it."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The penis heads? They grew in correct? Faster than expected, but like I said, we expected this. They'll go away if you keep taking the pills. They're just a by-product of the chemicals used to make the product." Blare explained, sounding very calm and collected even as my heart raced a mile a minute.

"You could've fucking mentioned it before I took the damn things."

"Sorry, dear. Absent mindedness is a terrible quirk of mine." She said. I could feel my pulse calming down. Damn, her voice was so soothing.

"Well... I guess that's fine. You're sure they'll go away?"

"Absolutely. If you're progressing so quickly, then I'm sure they'll be gone in a day or two. Also, just preparing you, they might get bigger before then, but that's normal."

"Alright. Well, if you're sure then... I guess I'll see you later."

"Of course. See you soon, Toni." She hung up. I sat facing my mirror, eying the myriad of dicks that passed for my hair.

"Fuck me." I muttered and got up, thankful that I was alone at least. As I stood up, I immediately gasped as my 'hair' brushed against my back. It was long enough that the abhorrent tips hung at the small of my back.

"What the hell?" I asked yet again. I get the feeling I'm going to be saying that a lot in the near future. I reached behind me to feel whatever it was, once again gasping as my fingers touched the source of my shock. After doing it once again to confirm my suspicions, I groaned. The dick tips weren't just weird mutations or something, they actually had nerves, "Just great." I muttered angrily and flopped face first on my bed, hair cascading around me. I bit my lip to hold back a moan. They actually felt kind of good.

I have a bit of interest in the human psyche. As such, I was fairly certain as to why this little fact stood out for me. This is just a theory, more or less, so anyone who reads this, don't judge. Due to the somewhat traumatic event of suddenly growing hair after living my life without a single strand, and then having said hair morph into a pervert's fantasy, my consciousness was eager to latch onto any positive in the situation. Which would explain my next decision.

Curious as to how sensitive my 'hair' was, I carefully rolled over and grabbed a single lock of it. The hair itself didn't really feel like anything, but then I grasped the tip. I had to bite my lip to hold back a moan. That was surprisingly good, similar to when I'm warming myself up for some self-loving. Almost absentmindedly, I began to rub the small, mushroom shaped head. Over time, I couldn't help but feel a warmth building in my core.

Then everything became a blur to me. One moment I was dressed in my PJs, the next I had yanked my pants off and had a hand between my lips while one rubbed my hair. Then time seemed to skip again, as I began to cry out in orgasm, my fingers sliding in and out of my snatch as the walls clenched down in ecstasy. At the same time, small jets of semi-opaque fluid jetted from my hair. Turns out the dicks were fully functional.

After that, I don't know what came over me. I found myself masturbating over and over. I could barely keep my hands off my body long enough to eat or drink. At some point, I seemed to have come up with a brilliant way to solve one of those problems, since the next time I was cognisant I three of my dick hairs in my mouth and swallowing as I came. Something had to be wrong me. Eventually though, exhaustion won out and I fell deep asleep.

Following this, the days flew by. I would wake up, manage to eat a hearty breakfast, before my 'hair' basically took control. Then I would lay in bed, or on the couch, or even the bathroom floor just fingering my pussy and stroking my hair. As time went by, I noticed my hair growing bigger, though not much longer. No, they were becoming thicker and... prehensile. It was like I had a head of tentacles. Not gonna lie though, they can be really useful. Like when I needed to brush my teeth, they reacted before my hands did. Pretty dexterous too.

Eventually, I honestly wasn't sure I wanted them gone. Masturbation was a hell of lot more fun now, and they didn't seem harmful. Though, given how strong and thick they were, I didn't doubt that they could choke me if I wasn't in control of them. But still... the orgasms were really damn good.

Anyway, a week came and went and I was Blare's clinic. I had my hair scrunched up in a tight beanie to keep them out of sight. It was a real struggle not to moan as they twisted about. Thankfully, I was sent through quickly.

"Now then, how are you finding the treatment?" She asked. By way of answer, I pulled the beanie off my head. At least three dozen wrist thick tendrils fell down, each of them ending below my seated hips, "Oh." She said in surprise.

"They didn't go away." I said accusingly.

"Oh, Toni, I'm sorry. I thought they were fit for human trials." I squinted at her. She was lying. The dastardly, gorgeous, deplorable, beautiful bitch.

"I thought you said this was basically for marketing?"

"Oh, yes. I did. Well, surprise, surprise." She said with an offhand laugh.

"So why me?"

"Because you were desperate to do it."

"Why dicks for hair?"

"Why not?" I scowled at her, "Fine. I've got some rather... extreme tastes. You're not the first one I've messed with, don't worry. Another girl, Gale, has some rather interesting breasts."

"So what now?" I asked, growled really.

"You've got a bunch of virginities to lose. So, how about it?" She said, standing and removing her clothes. I was still mad at her, but fuck, she's so damn hot. My hair was already reaching for her, dicks curling around her wrists and forearms to try and bring her closer. I sighed and did the same.

"I'm gonna fuck you raw." I told her, no hint of an empty threat in my voice. She only smirked.

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

Minutes later, I had sitting on my lap. My hands groped her heavy tits as my plethora of cocks plundered her pussy and ass, three to a hole. Her mouth was stuffed with two more as well, as her hands jerked off another pair. The rest coiled about her body and mine, eager for pleasure. Drunk on it as I was, I didn't hesitate and sent two of them into my own virgin pussy. It hurt, sure, but that quickly changed to overwhelming pleasure as I soon started to cum. It was hair sperm, so I couldn't get pregnant from it right? Right?

-8 months later-

"Christ this is heavy." I groaned as I climbed out of bed. My stomach was huge, way bigger than most full term women were. The ultrasound had revealed that I was carrying quintuplets. And a few other tests showed that I was extremely fertile as well. Practically guaranteed pregnancy without any protection. I've kept my hair hidden and no one knows about it. Thank god.

-1 month later-

I held my babies in my arms. They were so beautiful, even covered in all manner of fluids. The doctors and nurses all stared at us in horror. I didn't care about them or that my babies also sported my 'rather unusual hairdo'. Mum's words, not my own.