Universal Quantum Editor

Barbra sighed, fingers tapping impatiently on her desk staring out into the empty seats of her classroom. This is what her life amounted to, teaching unmotivated and empty headed over-privileged spoiled brats too lazy to work or move out of their rich parents homes. For fifteen years she had been teaching in this town, and she had nothing to show for it. Stagnant in her job, in her research, in her lovelife, and everything else that mattered. Living alone with her two cats in a single bedroom shack on the other side of the tracks, barely scraping by with the salary she’s paid in this town with skyrocketing property rates and taxes that only seem to affect those with lower income.

Idly she reached up and snapped off a braid of her hair, studying it’s odd texture and shape. She was always a redhead, although with age it had lightened considerably to be a copper brown at times mixed in with gray streaks. Now she was back to being a redhead, just like when she was in high school. Vibrant strawberry colored locks that looked unnatural on a human body, and rightly so considering that it was currently made out of candy.

She still couldn’t believe it herself, even if it had been two days since the fateful incident at the lab had happened. Though it was a far cry from having candy hair, then what had happened to her longtime lab partner. They’d taken up a rather fanciful commission a few months back, a rather wealthy investor had contacted the college with a request to research “universal quantum editing” which was complete nonsense and something you’d see in an old schlocky dime store pulp magazine. The investor was promising a very very generous sum if they could create a working prototype

based on the materials given if they took the request. And one look at the materials it was clear to see why nobody had taken them seriously, it was a joke. An old dusty knockoff PDA with an attached and exposed motherboard, and what looked like typewriter keys duct taped to the front with a bunch of multicolored wires attached haphazardly. It looked as if someone had blown it up with a stick of dynamite and tried to hastily stitch it back together.

Her research partner took the gig without consulting with her, thinking they could make a quick bit of easy cash by grifting this insane rich fool and playing along. Unfortunately, they were a bit overwhelmed when “The Manual” arrived along with the defunct device, and it contained formulas and theories that they could hardly wrap their heads around. Zevalia, her colleague, became obsessed after studying “The Manual” nearly day and night. He stopped eating lunch together, stopped coming to class and became a total recluse. After four months he looked like a raving lunatic. He stopped shaving, bathing, and dressing properly. The last time she had seen him, he was writing computer code on the glass windows of their personal research lab in his boxer shorts.

And then one day, she showed up to their lab...and he was gone. When she went to report his disappearance, nobody even knew of his existence. She remembered working with him for years trying to work on alternative fuel sources theories, and now it was all gone and her partner along with it. She had always worked alone, unsuccessfully. Her partner had seemed to be erased from reality itself.

She knew she wasn’t crazy, and scoured every square inch of their lab...or her lab now in search of clues to his whereabouts. The only thing left was that device, however it had been modernized. Whatever Zevalia had done, he’d transferred the aspects of the old device into a touchscreen tablet. Either way, he’d somehow completed the strange benefactor's request. She searched high and low for her partner to no avail, he simply vanished without a trace. She scooped up the device and noticed something wriggling away on the floor, she blushed brightly as she noticed her favorite pair of panties squirming around on the floor of the lab. They flapped and wiggled trying desperately to get away from her, the embroidered Z stitched onto it's surface undulated as they squirmed under her gaze. Barbara scowled, her stupid lucky panties had run away from her again. Quickly she scooped them up and stuffed it into her handbag, having to keep it zipped up in a small pouch in her bag to ensure they don't escape again. She’d have to give it a wash when she got home, nodoubt they were plenty dirty from crawling around the floor all this time. She’d swear she would need to find a lock for her underwear drawer just to keep them contained, the last thing she needs is her favorite pair of underwear to start feeling her up in her sleep again. Or trying to sneak off into some other woman's pants, you think they’d be loyal to their owner.

Before she left the lab, she noticed her laptop sitting nearby. Walking over she inspected it, it didn’t seem to be damaged. Even though it’s eyes darted around frantically, and it’s face twitched oddly. Must be some glitches in the software she guessed. She pinched her laptop's nose for five seconds to power it on, hoping it still had some battery life left. After a moment it moaned loudly as she shoved her fingers in it’s pussy, and pinched it’s clit. This model always left her hands damp and sticky after using the touchpad, but it was a very reliable machine anyways despite it’s moist features. She adjusted the volume on it’s breasts, pinching the left nipple four times to keep its moaning to a manageable level. Folding its legs inward she began to type on it’s thick supple thighs, her soft fingers tapping lightly against the sensitive skin of her laptop's inner thighs. The moaning grew in pitch, and she decided to mute it. She took her dripping hand out from the inner depths of the touchpad, and shoved it against her laptops glossy red lips. She grabbed it’s tongue and pulled it gently, causing the speakers to be muted and quiet down. She waited for the mouth to lick her fingers clean and moved on. Everything looked alright, all her files were there and her notes. The only issue was her email inbox was flooded with spam. “HELP BARBARA I'M STUCK AS THIS -” Blah Blah Blah. She mass clicked on all the spam messages and blocked them, she wasn't interested in playing with scams or malware. Her taskbar was also alerting her to crucial announcements, but she adjusted the notifications so it would come back in ten days instead of every day. She rubbed her laptop's abs to adjust the monitor's resolution and began to read her and Zevalia’s notes to see if there was any clue to his whereabouts.

Oddly enough there was a third name, Erika Saunders? She had never heard of working with anyone named Erika. As far as she knew, the only person she had done research with was Zevalia and no one else. She shrugged, he must be playing a prank on her. There were multiple references to this Erika person, but she couldn't for the life of her wonder who that was or why they were talked about in their notes. The only Erika she knew about was the type of laptop she owned, the Erika model was very unique and suited to her particular tastes, even though it had middling reviews for being a bit moody from time to time.

She sighed, tired and getting nowhere, closed the documents and folded up her laptop. Burying it’s head between its own thighs and carrying it under her shoulder. It was a bit unwieldy but surprisingly light however. And this model had a very well padded ass, she would rub it absentmindedly from time to time. It was at least very comfortable when she sat it on her lap to write long reports on.

That was two days ago, she had gotten rather curious about the device and was messing around with it when it activated. Her colleague must have been playing around with her, because her “Profile” was added into some bizarre app. It showed her height, sex, dimensions, and age along with a dozen other unnecessarily in depth stats. She frowned at the definition of her “Libido” as tepid with a percentage at 18%. Sure her love life was nonexistent and she hadn’t really put herself out there in more than a decade but…

Okay so that part was on point, but the other stats were...also correct. She sighed heavily, getting upset at how much this App was insulting her by pointing out the truth. Modest and unimpressive B cups, brassy frizzy and frayed hair, and an ass that was as toned as her worn down thighs. She sat down at her home office desk, and reached into her candy bowl. Unwrapping a fresh metallic seven inch buttplug, her anxiousness always led her to binge on sweets. With a practiced motion, she bent over slightly and slipped down her panties and work skirt. Deftly sliding in the ringed object into her tight but well abused asshole, letting out a content sigh of relief. She knew the sweets were bad for her, but they were the only way to ease her anxiety when she got into her moods. She scooted over, getting the buttplug nice and situated. Grabbing a chocolate and some two packs of twizzlers, throwing the morsel into her mouth and going back to playing with the device out of boredom.

The machine was surprisingly in depth, she was confused as to why it was constantly scanning things. It was focused on the licorice on her desk, with a list of stats and data. Her profile was loaded to the side still, with the licorice taking up the center. Tapping away at it she accidentally activated a “Swap trait” function. Not even thinking about it she selected Y and felt her vision turn bright white for a second like someone had turned the lights off suddenly and back on again real fast.

Right away she could feel something was off, for one thing there was a distinct sweet smell of strawberry in the air, and her head felt cold and heavier. She flinched at the sight of a large clump of what looked like her hair neatly packaged into a twizzler wrapper. With a wary hand she picked it up and examined the strangely wrapped clump of hair, noticing it was definitely a match for her own. She brought her hand up to her head and gasped, standing up onto her feet after feeling around her head as all of the follicles above her eyebrows had been replaced by gummy strawberry licorice, growing out of her scalp naturally.

Barbara shakily combed through her transformed jelly locks, oddly smoothing back against her scalp like actual dreads. The ridges tickled against her scalp, but felt strangely natural. The sweet sugary smell permeated around her, and only seemed to grow more pungent as her heart rate increased.

“What the-” She muttered to herself unbelievingly. Her eyes immediately went to the strange device, remembering how it was idly scanning things in it’s viewpoint. “Holy shit” she whispered, the damn thing actually works! Barabra thought. In her haste to pick up the device, she accidentally pulled too hard at one of her licorice strands and snapped it off directly in the middle. Stunned, as easy as it was if it was any other piece of candy. Glancing in the mirror, her head decorated with a crown of hanging strawberry licorice threads. The piece that snapped off in her hand dangled lifelessly, she hesitated momentarily before bringing it up to her lips. Her tongue darted from her mouth and..*snap*

She took a bite, her eyes widened in silent awe. It tasted exactly like the sweet strawberry licorice it mimicked, continuing to chew with increasing gusto and fervor as her excitement increased.

Frantically she tapped at the device, looking at her stats section and there in the “Listed changes” tab was “Trait: Hair - Licorice”. That was fantastical, improbable and downright insane.

She frowned however, there was a second change in that tab she hadn’t noticed “Fixation - Lollipops - Buttplugs” Barabra screwed her lips up in distaste, disgusting. There was no way she would go around sucking on lollipops, not when she had a perfectly good supply of buttplugs to shove up her ass whenever she got anxious.

She was startled from delving any further by the frantic beeping of her alarm clock, she had twenty minutes to get to her class. She cursed, considering calling out sick. But decided against it, throwing the device into her personal briefcase and grabbing her folded laptop by it’s plush ass and running out the door, braided licorice locks bouncing off her scalp.