Blame it on the Potion

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A young woman endures a humiliating experience in the lab.
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The light coming from the laboratory, flooded into the darkened hallway. A leggy blonde stood in the shadows, watching the lone figure intently. “Working late again Fran?”

Fran heard the question and the teasing way the beautiful blonde asked it, but she didn’t respond, as was her way of late. She knew that she would indeed be working late, in the laboratory, once again. It had been nearly six months since she came to work for Dr. Winker and she had seemingly become a slave to the grind. Her social life taking a back seat once again, this time to her work.

“Don’t forget the lights,” the blonde purred, before she made her way into the darkness. Fran just shook her head, remembering that she had left the lights on one night, but more because the blonde had teased her about it, ever since. She also shook with an internal anger as to why she always let the blonde have her fun. While Fran was highly educated, she had masters in chemistry from one of the nation’s top Universities. The blonde, who everyone unimaginably called Blondie, was just her bosses secretary and a lousy one at that.

Fran's mind suddenly took a journey back to their first meeting. She came in search of a job. She had read about Dr. Winkers work in cell research and wanted to put her education to good use, as she felt that she had scarified so much, even finishing at the top of her class, once again. Her favorite professor even gave Dr. Winker a call for her.

She walked into DR. Winker’s office, résumé in hand. She was ever so nervous, so the empty office startled her. She stood in front of the lone desk for several nervous minutes, before the office door opened up, in walking the most beautiful creature Fran's eyes had ever laid upon. While her beauty was stunning, her business attire also startled Fran. She sported cleavage galore, the shortest of skirts, and amazingly high heels. Fran’s heart rate roared, as the blonde moved closer, her perfume captivating, her voice sultry, as they chatted. Her sudden appearance into Fran's life, forever changing it. She even botched the interview with the good doctor, but somehow still got the job anyways.

Fran was snapped back to reality by an overflowing test tube. “Oh Darn!” She cried out, as she frantically cleaned up the spill. Fran spent the rest of the evening in the cold and lonely lab, working on Dr. Winker’s project, all while images of Blondie danced in her head.

Back at work after only a couple hours of sleep, Fran, with the help of a strong Cup of Joe, made her way into the meeting room, for the weekly get together. She was surprise that her co-workers were already there, as it was a first. A nod followed her entrance, as she sat down, giggling at her little joke to herself. Every time she saw the two thirty-something men that she worked with, she liked to call them Mack and Myer, after an old TV show. Then when Blondie walked in, she giggled some more, as she called her Jennifer, under her breath, after another old TV show. Nick at Night, seemingly her best friend of late.

“Dam it to hell,” came sputtering out of Dr. Winker’s mouth, following his entrance to the room. “We’re so close too.”

Blondie didn’t have a nickname for Dr. Winker. She used to call him, The Professor, then The Nutty Professor, but quickly found out that he wasn’t even that bright.

Everyone suddenly wanted to know what was up, and the good doctor went on to inform them that their funding for a research assistant had been cut from their budget, at the last second, from the Suits upstairs. The room suddenly burst into moans and groans.

Fran groaned as well, and then her face flushed, as she remembered the group interviews, for the assistant position. It was a normal interview, except for the simple fact that the canadates had to strip down to their underwear, to be hooked up to Dr. Winkers fancy monitoring equipment. Fran also couldn’t help but notice that they were also 90% female. Due to the struggling economy Fran hypothesizes, some of the canadates even offered to strip off ALL of their clothing, much to Mack and Myer’s delight. Fran was relived that Dr. Winker politely declined their offers, but Fran was still surprised at just how many of them didn‘t wear bra‘s to their interviews, again much to Mack and Myer’s delight.

“What are we gunna do?” Dr. Winker asked. “At the end of the week, everyone is coming to see our work!”

He held his face in his hands as he moaned, “we’re doomed.”

Fran couldn’t help but giggle...Her TV thing again.

“Well Fran I’m glad you think it’s funny that we will all be looking for work, next week!” Dr. Winker said with a glare.

“No it’s not that...” Fran started, her face a flame, as all eyes turned to her. “It’s just a...I was the...”

“Let’s go spit it out.” Blondie hissed.

“I mean there has to be another way,” Fran mumbled, searching.

“Not without a test subject and with no money...We’re doomed.”

“We still can have one. I mean there are four of us and you...Well you need four people to monitor the equipment, right.” Fran said as she looked at Blondie, who again was dressed in little more than glorified underwear. Fran even looked at the doctor and then back at Blondie, several times.

“Very good math Fran, so what are you saying?” The doctor quizzed.

“Well Blondie can help us, right?” Fran finally spit out, in frustration.

“Ah yah I guess she could,” Dr. Winker said and Fran liked the look on Blondie’s face when he did. “That was a good point, although I’m surprised at your boldness Fran. I never would have thought that YOU would have volunteered.”

“Volunteered?” Fran wondered as the group suddenly rose, sporting looks of relief.

“Hey wait a sec...” Fran moaned as Mack and Myer slapped her on the shoulder, as they made their way by, chuckling.

“That’s not what I meant!” Fran cried, as Blondie made her way by next, her frown turned upside down.

“Dr. Winker, please we need to talk,” she pleaded as he approached.

“It’s really no sweat Fran; you just lie there anyways...What’s to talk about? Gee whiz.” Dr. Winker said while he cleaned his coke bottles like glasses, as he walked on by.

“No Sweat!” Fran groaned, as she saw the irony of a bead of perpetration falling down her cheek. “Oh what have I gotten myself into?” Fran was left to wonder alone, as the room had cleared out.

The rest of the day Fran tried to get the doctor alone, to plead her case, but to no avail. Fran found herself alone once again, only now she was working on a formula that she would be drinking herself.

Fran’s few hours of sleep, now interrupted with nightmares, of a bra and panties existence. While her life back at work was an ever increasing, nervous tick-tock of time. Mack and Myer, she could only assume, responsible for the small string bikini that she found in her desk. As Blondie was far more bold in her teasing. Simply handing Fran a tanning salon business card. “Just strip naked in front of the owner and tan for free,” she purred into Fran’s ear. “I don’t know why that’s not on the card. It always works for me.” Fran quickly blushed at the thought.

“Plus you could use the practice,” Blondie whispered into her ear, before she turned to leave and Fran watched her wiggle away.

The days clicked off painfully slow for Fran, as the tension built. She found herself sitting in her one-room apartment, staring at the ceiling, not believing that she was only hours away from testing Dr. Winker’s potion, in front of the Suits. While that didn’t faze her, as she did most of the work on the potion and was confident that it was safe. She just couldn’t get past the simple fact that she would be stripping to her underwear, in front of her co-workers, Dr. Winker, and god knows who else in the observation room. But worst of all, in front of Blondie, who always made Fran feel like an ugly duckling, by comparison.

Fran, with tears forming in her eyes, pulled out the string bikini and the envelope that Dr. Winker gave her, which he said contained her pre-testing instructions, and headed for the bathroom. After a hot shower, she wrapped herself in a towel. While sitting on the hopper, she read the instructions.

Dear Testie: As you know by now, it is very important to follow proper procedure, as to not compromise the testing. There is to be no eating or drinking 6 hours before the testing time.

“I guess getting shit-faced is out,” Fran said with a giggle and she continued to read.

You will be properly groomed for the test. Please shower, but do not use body lotion. Females: Please shave your legs and underarms, as well as all of your pubic hair. This is very important as to not contaminate the results.

The instructions went on, but Fran couldn’t get past the shaving part. She shaved her legs and underarms alright, but never even dreamed of shaving her pussy, as she thought only bad girls did that. Plus with her love life, there was really no need. Her pillow didn’t mind the fur-coat.

Fran slowly slipped her towel apart, her face flushing as her dark full bush appeared. She got up and began pacing the floor, building up some courage, while also trying to figure a way out of her predicament. “Me and my big mouth!“ She groaned, as she finally sat back down and grabbed her scissors. Stopping to take one last look, before she started trimming away. While the trimming when fairly smoothly, the shaving did not, as it was her first time, so she struggled with technique and her composer. A small tear even rolled down her cheek, when she was finished.

She spent some time examining her freshly shaved pussy, with the aid of a small hand held mirror. She was looking, and feeling much like a girl again, while exploring herself for the first time. Only she was a grown woman and knew there was nothing wrong with what she was doing now, as she ran two fingers up and down her prominent pussy lips. She cringed at just how prominent they were, as if she had forgotten. Their deep pink color filling her eyes, matching her cheeks. An audible moan suddenly escaped from her mouth, as her finger swooshed inside. Her body responded to her touch, yet she still felt shameful and suddenly stopped, before she finished the deed.

Instead Fran took another shower, only it was a cold one this time. After drying off, she grabbed the bikini. She struggled with the strings, as she had never had the courage to wear one before. Finally in the bikini, she moved in front of her full length mirror, quickly cringing at the barely covered reflection staring back at her. Not even from body issues, as she had been giving a fortunate set of genes. She was having problems with, just how much this bikini showed, of her womanly curves. She suddenly jumped out of the mirror’s grasp and headed for her underwear draw. She spent some time fishing around before grabbing the most conservative white cotton bra and panties set, she could find.

“These will have to do,” she moaned still not happy, as she stared at her reflection again, but was determined to get through this. She didn’t want to start the job search, cattle call, again. She almost laughed at the silliness of being scared to be seen in her undies in front of others, at her age. “I’ll just pretend that their in their undies too, like in that Brady Bunch episode,” she told herself. Fran watched TV for a couple of hours, before she dressed in her work clothes and headed out the door.

Fran got off the elevator and walked into the lab. She got there early, so it was empty, except for the night-time janitor, who was busy cleaning the seats in the observation room, which would be filled with fannies, soon.

“Hi Fran, Ah you’re early,” the elderly janitor said, as he spotted her.

“Yah I guess,” Fran moaned.

“Well we are all cleaned up and ready to go for yah,” he said gleefully.

“That’s good,” Fran moaned.

“I’ll see yah later,” the janitor said as he turned to leave. He was also chuckling, which Fran thought was odd.

Fran moved over to the exam table. She hesitated, before sliding onto the table, lying on her back. He eye’s squinted from the bright light hanging overhead, acting like a spotlight, only Fran didn’t feel like a star.

“Well at least the people in the observation room will only get to see the souls of my feet, once I’m on the table,” Fran moaned as it was her first positive thought of the day. “How did I get myself into this? Man I’m an idiot,” was her next thought, as she was back to her negative waves.

Fran heard some voices, a short time later, and jumped off the table, just before her co-workers entered the room. They were quickly followed by Blondie, who walked right up to her and handed her a red silk robe. “Here yah go Fran.”

Fran could only gasp, as she held the silky material in her hands, but she also gasped at Blondie’s outfit, a leopard print dress, that barely contained her breasts and was obscenely short, never mind her stripper like, stiletto heels.

“There called tits Fran,” Blondie teased, as she caught Fran’s eye.

“I know,” Fran embarrassingly mumbled, as her face burned. “Remember I have some.”

“Well, we shall see.” Blondie sneered just a Dr. Winker approached, and Blondie turned to leave, not before a giggle and slipping in a wink.

“Hi Fran,” Dr. Winker said, “ Ah, nice robe.”

“Yah,” Fran moaned. “Blondie ah.”

“I know, why don’t you go and put it on,” Dr. Winker interrupted.

“What?” Fran gasped.

“Yah, go to the women’s room and take off all your clothes and put it on.”

“Ah...We’re not, ah, ready to start...Already?” Fran stammered.

“No, but you’ll be ready.”

“Nah, I think I’ll skip the robe.” Fran snapped, as she trembled with the thought of working in the silky, sexy, robe. It also just smelled of sex.

“Ok suit yourself,” Dr. Winker moaned. “Betta get my potion ready.”

“Ok,” Fran could only moan. She turn to leave in a huff, because she knew whose potion it really was and because it reminded her, just who was going to be drinking it. Fran spent the next several hours working on the taste of the potion, in the small back room. Her secret weapon, children’s cough medicine. She had been a sickly child and had gotten accustomed to it taste. Only she wasn’t a child anymore, yet in her predicament, she was certainly feeling childish.

“It’s almost time Fran,” Blondie said entering the small room. “The Doc wants me to help you.”

“Help Me?” Fran gasped.

“With your hair and make up.”

“What for?” Fran snapped.

“Well you are going to be the center of attention.” Blondie teased. “Plus Fran, a little make up once in a while, wouldn’t kill yah.

“No thanks, I’m not a model.” Fran hissed.

“Well today you are, so just shut up and turn around,” Blondie spat, as she spun around Fran’s stool and grabbed her by the face, and began to powder it. Blondie spent some time on her eyes next and finished by applying a fresh coat of fire engine red lipstick. Fran tried to remain calm, but Blondie always made her nervous, and it didn’t help that when she brushed Fran’s hair, she was standing right in front of Fran, her breasts swaying inches from Fran’s face, her fragrance filling Fran’s sense of smell.

“Ok Fran, all set,” Blondie said after she sprayed Fran’s hair, with half a can of hair spray. “Looking good, if I don’t say so myself.”

“Stop teasing me, Blondie.” Fran moaned.

“Trust me Fran, you’re hot...Now how bout that robe?” Blondie said as she held up the small red robe. Fran’s heart raced as she just stared at it. “C’mon Fran stand up and Strip out of them duds.”

“I ah...I mean.” Fran stuttered. “Strip?”

“C’mon Fran it’s just us girls,” Blondie purred, before she snapped. “Now go ahead, Strip it!”

Fran’s body shook as Blondie said it and Fran finally mumbled that she had a little more work to do.

“Suit yourself Fran, I just thought you might look nice in it,” Blondie said as she turned to leave. “Be out there in ten minutes.”

Fran looked at the clock. She had finished her work already, so she just watched, as the hands of time marched on, in front of her eyes. Even though she willed it to stop, the ten minutes flew by. She opened the door and walked into the lab, with knocking knees.

Fran’s eyes blinked as she tried to adjust to the bright lights. Her senses flooded with imagery. First she saw that the exam table was moved to the front of the room, right next to the glass window, which separated the lab, from the observation room. Then she noticed the video cameras focused on the exam table. Her eyes shifted to Mack and Myer, who were stationed at their monitors, only feet away from the table. Each wearing wide grins, as she approached. She also figured the camera’s were their idea.

Fran slowly inched towards the exam table. She could see blurry faces of spectators, sitting on other side of the glass. She noticed a couple more still filing in. She began to panic, as she didn’t except so many and the simple fact that they all appeared to be men. She noticed, the Suits from upstairs, front and center.

Then Fran started scanning faces, gasping when she saw familiar ones. First there was her old high school teacher and principle, who was sitting next to the gray haired professor that helped her find this very job. She suddenly noticed Dr. Winker’s 18-year-old son and his buddies, in the crowd. She could only shake her head when she noticed that they were eating popcorn. She noticed the old janitor sitting in the back row, with two other old guys, passing a brown paper bag, back and forth. When he caught her eye, she instantly remembered his earlier chuckling. She could only cringe as he toasted her.

She also noticed a couple other familiar faces, but couldn’t place them, before the observation room went dark.

“Hi Fran ready?” Dr. Winker asked, just before Fran Jumped.

“What the frig!“ An emotionally frazzled Fran screamed out.

“Sorry Fran, didn’t mean to surprise you and WOW speaking of surprises, you look good Fran. I mean really good.” Dr. Winker said, as his eyes lit up.

“What?” Fran snapped.

“I mean your make up and hair, you look, ah pretty.” Dr. Winker mumbled.

“Oh Sorry, I ah forgot,” Fran said as she looked to the floor, not use to complements about her looks. “Thanks.”

“Well are we ready Fran?” Dr. Winker said as Fran noticed Blondie on the other side of the exam table, running her hands over the table’s surface, like a model, a wicked smile on her face. She even blew her a kiss for good luck.

“Fran Hello...It’s time.” Dr. Winker said snapping his fingers.

“Oh sorry, I guess, I’m nervous,” Fran mumbled, in a gross under statement.

“Yah I can see that,” Dr. Winker said. “Just remember that you’re a professional and more importantly, all of our jobs are on the line here.”

“You’re not helping.” Fran whispered, but Dr. Winker had already begun his speech to the crowd of onlookers, now sitting in the dark. After a ten-minute speech, all of which Fran trembled through, while thoughts of running away, danced in her head, but the new BMW that she just ordered, was there as well. Dr. Winker suddenly turned to introduce Fran. She heard some muffled applause coming from the spectators, as her face flushed.

“All right Fran, we are ready.” Dr. Winker said as he motioned for her to come forward. Fran was light headed as she instinctively came forward, the overhead light acting like a spotlight, although for the second time today, Fran didn’t feel like a star. “Well Fran we are waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Fran quickly mumbled.

“Waiting for you to disrobe, so we can start.”

“Just like that!” She said to Dr. Winker, who was just nodding his head. Fran looked ahead, and then at the cameras, and then at her co-workers, each offering little comfort. She also thought she heard someone yell, “Strip the bitch,“ from behind the glass.