Part 3

The Escapist!

Part 3: The Accident

The third time happened in college during a classroom accident.

I was in college studying for a bachelor’s degree in Environmental Engineering. It was a choice that was largely inspired by my experience in the mountains with the Avatar: seeing how the creature left a wake of transformative contamination behind her and watching my friends get transformed against their preference really affected me. I found myself with a zeal to stop anyone else from being transformed against their will. While I was powerless to oppose a rogue avatar, I could at least save people from accidentally encountering dcum. With that goal in mind, I thought it made the most sense to learn about Environmental Engineering.

When the incident happened I was still in my second year of studies. I had finished my general year of study; basically repeating high school to ensure that freshmen were competent. Which meant that I was now in my first year of real studies. At this point it was mostly general engineering classes, mathematics classes, art electives, and a few ecology and chemistry classes. The one major exception to this standard curriculum was an intro to Alchemy lecture and an accompanying laboratory class.

I was taking this peculiar class because of a conversation I had with my program advisor. I had discussed my goal of becoming an alchemy cleanup specialist and they had strongly recommended that I consider a minor in Alchemy. They thought that would give me some insight into the discipline and some experience handling dcum. I was… dubious. I was, I realize in hindsight, quite traumatized by what happened in the mountains and was very, very nervous to be around the dangers of dcum. I tried to defer, but the advisor encouraged me, reminding me that it was a beginners’ class and that the class was designed with safety in mind. The advisor pointed out that if I was serious about my goal, this was too good an educational oppourtunity to pass up. And so I enrolled in the intro to Alchemy laboratory class.

Fortunately, the lab class I was taking was designed by the noted alchemist Professor Beverly Lipple. Dr. Lipple was a strong proponent of the idea that dcum and alchemy should be used for practical purposes. She felt that using the transformative power of alchemy for recreational, sexual transformation was a waste of amazing potential. Instead Dr. Lipple wanted to see alchemy tamed and put to use helping people: curing diseases, rebuilding gruesomely injured bodies, helping people with dysmorphia attain their desired bodies, and for doing all kinds of minor cosmetic treatments. And so she designed a laboratory alchemy class that emphasized safely and reliably producing a target compound. Which given my interest in safely disposing of alchemical byproducts, was fantastic training.

The current lab series was designed to produce an alchemical salve for curing skin blemishes. The experimental protocol had three lab periods worth of work to make the desired compound. The first lab period was mostly just chemistry: creating the correct buffers, reagents, and oil base to make the salve and substances for subsequent steps. The second period focused on the alchemical steps needed to create the right guiding environment for the dcum engine. These semi-magical steps were designed to drive the dcum to cause the desired transformation without also causing sexualized off-target changes. This lab period, the final in the series, would see the dcum itself diluted and added to the salve to make the final compound. It was meticulous and time consuming work, but it was interesting and an approach to alchemy that I really enjoyed.

And so there I was, milling around in the lab waiting for the prelab lecture to start. I had my hair tied back, was wearing my cheap labcoat, dorky goggles, and thick rubber gloves like safety rules mandated.

"Hey, Thesca, did you notice that Queenie is late again?" Margot smirked at me.

Margot Pald was my "bench buddy", one of the people whose assigned lab space adjoined mine and the only one I actually liked. She was an Alchemy major who was bright, devious, and pleasantly catty. She had long dark hair (clipped up in a bun for lab class), warm dark eyes, and pale skin. She was of the tall slender mold, although with just large enough breasts, wide enough hips, and enough fashion sense that she made the dorky boys of her program nervous. A fact, she had once admitted with a toothy little smile, she relished. She was the classmate that I would joke with during long incubations and slow sections of lab, study with for the lecture, and occasionally grab a beer or coffee with outside class. She was, I was realizing, quickly becoming one of my actual friends.

"What do you think?" Margot smiled her vicious little smile, "Walk of shame or amazing hangover?"

"In Queenie's case," I said, "why can't it be both?"

Queenie Paras was another of my 'bench buddies' and a notorious party-girl. She was another Alchemy major, a fact that many people found surprising. Queenie was not a stupid woman, if all a person saw was her transcript or test scores she would seem like a brainiac, but in person she was so airy and bubbly and careless that she often came off like a bimbo. This created an impression that was only enhanced by her appearance: Queenie did not have the prettiest face or most elegant body, but she had enormous boobies and would foist them around displayed for maximal effect. Add in her zest for drinking and genuine enthusiasm for casual sex and she was quite the popular carouser. Even on a campus as large as mine, her propensity to be the center of attention, overindulge, and create memorable spectacle was legendary. As was the wake of stunned, foolishly grinning boys she left behind as she stumbled home from their bedrooms.

Queenie was also notorious, at least between Margot and me, for always turning up late and bedraggled to lab class. The night before the lab was 'campus club night', the night which, by unspoken agreement, partygoers would descend on the shitty student union bar and tear it up. It was a fun night if you enjoyed binge drinking and sexy mistakes. As a first year student it had been a fixture of my week: living away from home and finally growing into a short but curvy adult had made for some fun and well, sexy mistakes. But like most second years, getting foolishly drunk and having a dozen boys ask my major was beneath me, and I had moved on to more grown up pursuits (or at least better bars). Queenie, though, still loved to party all night at the campus bar and would show up to lab almost every week hung over and often still wearing her bar clothes.

Margot chuckled. "She's a living legend!"

"Guys, you should focus on your prelab and lay off Queenie," wheedled Archie Prinz, the fourth student at our lab bench.

Archie Prinz was an almost comically stereotypical nerd. He was short, had a mop of red frizzy hair that stood out in all directions, wore thick glasses, and was rail skinny. He also had the worst skin I had ever seen. It was greasy and pale and covered with the most egregious case of acne in the world. It wasn't so much that he had pimples, it was more that he was covered by a scaley rash of waxey craters and scarlet bumps that bordered on ulcers. It was difficult to look at. His appearance, when combined with his dorky lack of social skills meant that he was still kind of a social outcast. Fortunately, Archie was also very, very smart and motivated to succeed. Even then I could tell he was destined for the kind of accomplishments that would make him a household name. I had hoped his brilliance would eventually let him emerge from this awkward phase and get him the social success he deserved, whether through money and fame or by having his repellent skin clear up. I was rooting for him.

For now though, Archie was awkward and weird around girls and eager to please everyone of the female sex. He also had an embassaingly desperate crush on Queenie. One I felt he had a very low chance of having reciprocated.

Margot shot Archie a calculating glance. "Maybe you should focus on your lab and let Queenie labour through this session independently, hmm?"

I jabbed Margot with my elbow and gave her a 'be nice' look. Margot was fun, but I hated when her bitchiness made her punch down.

She rolled her eyes and muttered, "I wish I could stumble drunk to class and have someone do my work for me..."

"You'd have to be much nicer to everyone," I pointed out.

"Touché"

The Teacher’s Assistant cleared her throat, getting the class’ attention and launching into the pre-lab lecture. She drew attention to some of the key steps in the day’s process, reagents that had to be mixed anaerobically, temperatures that had to be exact, and places where small deviations from procedure would spoil yield or purity. Bored looking students stared back at her. She sighed and licked the growth on her face. The TA then, sounding bored herself, ran through the safety concerns: the acids and bases and toxic materials and where to dispose of hazardous wastes for the day. She licked the growth again. “I of course don’t have to remind you that when working with dcum that you have to be extremely cautious,” she reminded the class for the hundredth time.

It really was an unnecessary reminder; the TA and her altered face were a constant living warning. On the first day of class the Teacher’s Assistant had pulled a surgical mask off her face and shocked the entire lab, who had gasped and gawked dumbfounded. The TA had then launched into an anecdote from when she had been a student in a beginner’s alchemy lab and had two solutions boiling in a fume hood. Unsure of which contained dcum and a number of other compounds, one of which smelled of pine, the woman had raised the sash a little and wafted the fumes from one vessel and sniffed it. In doing so, the TA explained, she had carelessly inhaled a cloud of dcum vapours which began to burn at her nostrils. The young TA had watched her reflection in horror as her nose morphed slowly into a clitoris. And not just the part that peaks out, the entire mega-clitoral structure hanging from her face. Her nose had become a large, almost penile glans clitoris peaking out of a wrinkly ridged skin hood. Jutting from her top lip like a waxed pencil moustache were the long, skinny tines of the clitoral crura. Below that, hanging on either side of her mouth like some kind of fleshy handlebar moustache, were the bulges of the clitoral bulbs. The foolish young TA had blinked stupidly at the purple/blue mass of flesh on her face, a permanent droopy, sensitive moustache and screamed. Which is why, the TA said, her clitoral moustache flapping on her face, it was extremely important to follow lab safety procedures especially when working with dcum.

Presently, the TA satisfied with her address, licked her clitoral moustache, and instructed the students to get on with it. I had noticed that running her tongue along her facial growth was a kind of tick with the woman, and that she frequently did it when public speaking. I sometimes wondered what it would feel like, was it like licking a lip or would it be a shock of pleasure? What would it be like to kiss someone with an entire clitoris hanging free on your face? What would it be like to suck a cock like that, or as I suspected of my TA, eat out a pussy? A part of me found the entire thing luridly fascinating and was curious about the exotic potential of a transformation. The rest of me shuddered at the revolting and embarrassing prospect of having a clit hanging from my face.

I made my way to my lab bench, organized my thoughts, took a deep breath to steady my nerves, and started the lab. I had my lab notebook open to my transcribed protocol and was quietly assembling the glassware apparatus I’d need for the day. The protocol called for a round bottom flask which already contained the alchemical modifying reagents I had already prepared to be boiled under reflux while I gradually added a volatile dcum preparation. To do this I added a U-shaped adapter with a reflux column, a kind of water-jacketed condenser, in the vertical position and a separating funnel in the other position, a inverted teardrop shaped container with a spigot on one end. Because this was a dcum addition step the spout of the reflux tube also got a fume scavenger. The round bottom flask would be exposed to a heating element, it's contents boiled, and then dcum would be painstakingly introduced to the mixture a few drops at a time. Since the dcum was so powerfully reactive, and it's dilution buffer so volatile, this was the only safe way to do this.

"Guys! Sorry I'm late! Did I miss anything?" Enter Queenie looking decidedly rough. Her long blonde hair was a wild tangle, her too pinched face was smeared with last nights makeup, and her eyes were sunken and bloodshot. She dropped her book bag and shook out her labcoat. Grimacing she pulled the labcoat on over her outfit: a deeply scoop necked sequinned halter top, painted on jeans, and very high heeled ankle boots. Based on the mixed scents of perfume, rail vodka, and sex that wafted off her clothes she had been wearing these clothes the night before and hadn't managed to shower. Which meant that I was right: hangover and a walk of shame.

"Nice of you to join us!" Margot shouted brightly, making Queenie wince at the loud noise.

"Waugh," Queenie whined, rubbing her eyes.

"Don't worry!" Gushed Archie, "you aren't that far behind, and I can help you set up!"

Archie scrambled off to fetch Queenie the required glassware while Queenie rested her head on the lab bench and squinted miserably. Margot smirked with deep shaudenfreud at the situation before turning back to her chemistry. I just shook my head, feeling bad for Archie, before getting back to my own work.

It took a few minutes, since I was ever so cautious, but I eventually got my alchemical base boiling happily under reflux. Margot, working with clipped efficiency, had her own mixture simmering and had already fetched her dcum mixture and was cautiously adding it. Archie, despite being a pushover with women was super competent in the lab, so he had gotten Queenie up to speed and was already adding dcum to his mixture. I was such a slowpoke.

I walked over to the fumehood to collect my own dcum sample. I had my separating funnel on hand to fill with the magic ingredient. The protocol called for the funnel to first be charged with a volatile dilution buffer. This was in a bottle with a pre-set volume pump: I simply placed the charging end of my funnel under the spout, lifted the pump handle, and pushed the correct volume into my funnel. Next I needed to add a very small amount of partially diluted dcum to my funnel. To do this I carefully, so carefully, measured out the correct volume with a dedicated volumetric pipette. I breathed a sigh of relief and jammed the stopper of my separation flask home, sealing the container. Since the dilution buffer and dcum solution had different densities, they remained separate at first in the flask, with the dcum solution pooling in the bottom. The next step in the protocol was to gently swirl the funnel so that the dcum solution mixed in with the dilution buffer. This would ensure that I safely added the dcum in the correctly diluted concentration to my reaction. I very carefully swirled the flask in the fumehood since I was a sissy.

While I was mixing my solutions I saw Queenie come to get her dcum sample. She squeezed out the dilution buffer according to protocol, but when she added her dcum she cavalierly dumped the dangerous solution into her funnel without measuring properly. To my aghast eyes she had to have taken at least twice the recommended amount! And then, to make matters worse, she didn't swirl the flask letting all of the concentrated dcum settle right at the bottom. Which meant that she had twice the amount of undiluted dcum stock right where the funnel would add it to the alchemical reaction. It was a recipe for disaster! I hope she would swirl her flask and fix it before proceeding.

I returned to my lab bench and carefully mated my charged separating funnel onto my reaction system. I made sure the seal was good and tight and mentally prepared myself for the addition of dcum. I was still very nervous about working with the substance and I found that taking a moment to calm myself down was very helpful. The protocol for this part of the experiment called for a very gradual addition of dcum to the boiling alchemical base. Since the alchemical effects of adding dcum mixture were dangerously energetic, the plan was to very briefly open the separation funnel to allow a tiny amount of dilute dcum to dribble into the reaction, then to close the funnel and wait until the reaction calmed down. A little bit at a time. I took one last deep breath and added the smallest amount of dcum into the reaction. I winced away from the reaction vessel, but when I opened my eyes, everything was fine. I snorted a laugh at myself and added the next dribble, watching the boiling base froth wildly for a moment and return to normal. This process was not so bad.

I glanced up and saw Queenie fiddling with her own separation funnel. To my dismay, she still hadn't mixed it properly, and was seating the funnel onto her reaction system dangerously full of undiluted dcum stock. Queenie, grimacing and rubbing her forehead, opened her funnel spiggot completely and slumped her head onto the lab bench. She was adding all the dcum at once! The entire excessive, undiluted amount!

Queenie's reaction grew violent!

Archie stepped over to help Queenie.

Margot reached after Archie to restrain him, cursing.

Queenie was oblivious.

And then BANG!

Queenie's reaction vessel ruptured and sprayed her dcum laden alchemy in a jet of fluid that splashed Queenie, Archie, and Margot and just barely missed splattering on me.

All three of my benchmates stared in stunned silence as their clothes evaporated and their bodies started to change.

Margot, who received the smallest dose of alchemy, stumbled backwards cursing. She had been splattered all along the right side of her body: her right arm, leg, torso, and the right side of her face were all coated in bubbling alchemy. Everywhere the fluid touched developed small red bumps like pimples that expanded into pert nipples. The skin around the bumps became rosy aureola flesh and created a scale pattern of nipples that covered nearly half Margot's body. The nipple scales covered her body totally: sealing over her right eye and ear, creeping over her scalp and leaving her bald on one side of her head. Next the flesh beneath her nippley skin began to swell, leaving half her body jiggly and soft with an a cup's worth of mammary fat under her scales. Her right hand and foot changed further, swelling into large breasts and her fingers and toes became long, prehensile nipples she could control. When her changes finished Margot looked like the survivor of a lab accident: normal, healthy tissue on one side, slightly swollen and covered in a burn of nipple scales all over the other side. She blinked her remaining eye and moaned, her many, many nipples stiffening in arousal.

Archie got a much larger blast of alchemy and so his changes were much more pronounced. After his clothes melted off his awful, rashy skin began to bubble and grow loose. His hair fell out in clumps and his skin cracked and split and peeled off, sloughing off in chunks like a snake shedding its hide. As the old skin fell to the floor, a transformed Archie was revealed. A new Archie with flawless, silky, perfect skin in a shade of lavender purple and big, bright, magenta eyes. He blinked his beautiful eyes and groaned in a newly soprano voice as his flawless skin began to plump out as he grew a new layer of subcutaneous body fat giving him a round feminine ass, soft thighs, and perfect, perky full breasts. He still had his cock, but it had grown smooth and naturally circumcised and his small scrotum became free of wrinkles and velvety smooth. The formerly scabby nerd was now a gorgeous, hairless purple dickgirl.

Queenie was absolutely blasted with alchemy and was soaking in the dcum laden solution as her clothes dissolved. She glanced around frantically as all of her body hair melted off and her already very pretty skin became absolutely flawless. So flawless that it started to crawl over every opening in it, sealing over her eyes, nostrils, mouth, and ears as if they were blemishes. Queenie's pussy and anus also sealed over as her nipples were absorbed back into her skin. Her fingers and toes melded together into blunt, skin coated flippers. Queenie was now a very busty woman covered completely in a sheath of unbroken, perfect skin. But her changes weren't finished yet, as her skin took on a plastic quality becoming like a living, flesh coloured latex. The latex grew shinier as it began to sweat a clear fluid that reeked of pussy. Queenie blindly rubbed her fingerless hands over her body and writhed in mute pleasure. Her blunt feet slid on the floor, lubricated by her slick sweat, and she fell to the ground, writhing in ecstasy and fondling her body. Queenie the partygirl was now completely sealed inside a latex-skinned erogenous zone.

I just stood there mute and blinking, watching my bench buddies change and looking at the splatter pattern of alchemy on the floor and just how close I had come to transforming myself. If Margot hadn't stepped to grab Archie, she wouldn't have been in just the right place to screen me. I was very, very lucky.

The TA, her megaclitoris face quivering in anger screamed "FUCK!" and told everyone to "Stand exactly where they are!" and whined that "Lipple is going to throw a fucking fit!" and "Undergrads are fucking useless!" She called for the campus hazmat team and slowly and carefully the lab was evacuated and closed for decontamination. A process that took so long that the lab class was suspended and we were graded based on our previous work (fortunately the semester was nearly over). At the moment I was deeply relieved: I wasn't sure if I would ever take another alchemy lab class again. But I would eventually press on, more inspired than ever to make working with alchemy safer.

My three transformed bench buddies all had their lives radically changed by the lab accident. Margot, understandably, was put off from continuing her studies as an alchemist. The nipple scaled woman dropped out of college and spent the next few years travelling the world, eventually ending up as a ski bum at a far off mountain resort. Apparently she had to start wearing compression clothing to still the wobbly breast-flesh part of her body and used copious amounts of glove warming pads to keep her many nipples warm while skiing. Queenie, now deaf, blind, and mute found a new life as a work of living art, pleasuring herself and writhing forever in a glass enclosure in the student art gallery. Archie, now Prinzy, continued his, now her, studies, eventually graduating as the valedictorian of the Alchemy program. Prinzy also became quite the lavender party girl, becoming notorious for drinking hard, wrecking boys in the bedroom, and stumbling to classes hungover and disheveled.  She had become the beautiful, smart, bubbly, and fun girl she had always wanted before her change. I like to think that each of my bench buddies were happy in their new lives.

And that's how I escaped my first alchemy lab by not rushing to help the laboratory lush.

***

Credits:

Words and story by Indigocarmine

Key transformations were developed in collaboration with Phil Ein Blank

Additional editorial assistance provided by KSG

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Part 4