Locked by the Biology Professor

The hum of conversation resonates in the air.

The classroom is alive with activity, but tension hangs over the space. It’s probably due to the lesson we’re about to receive—it’s inherently intimate.

Genetics and reproduction.

I’m already halfway through my freshman year of college, and I’ve loved my biology class. Situated in a cavernous room with tiered seating, it feels like I’m in an ancient amphitheater, waiting for a philosopher to arrive.

Professor Luca Bennett is a legend. Born overseas, he’s studied in the hills of Italy and the libraries of Morocco. He’s a sponge for knowledge, and his global travels have endowed him with exciting, unconventional teaching methods. He’s quite the catch for our tiny university. It’s strange that he isn’t teaching somewhere more prestigious, but I suppose I shouldn’t question my luck.

A door at the front of the room opens, and the professor emerges.

Harsh fluorescent light causes his obsidian hair to shine as he strolls past a replica teaching skeleton. He’s far taller than the skeletal figure—he might be the tallest person in the room.

And he’s sturdy.

His white dress shirt has the sleeves rolled back to reveal dense, veiny arms. Parallel bands of muscle bulge beneath his hairy skin, tracing up into the biceps holding his shirt taught. He’s even got the pecs to match…looks like he might pop a button.

“Settle down, everyone.” His deep voice sends physical vibrations pulsing into our ears.

Everyone turns to gaze into his blue eyes. He smiles, amplifying the light wrinkles around his mouth. He’s twice my age, but I’m still jealous of how he looks. I wish I had that sharp, masculine face…

But that’ll never be me.

Short and a bit skinny, I’ve never been particularly athletic. I recently tried lifting weights in the university gym, and it was a painfully unpleasant experience. It hurt, and I felt self-conscious around all those muscle-bound gym bros.

No…the gym isn’t for me. My sanctuary is in the auditorium practicing alongside the school band. I’ve always been a band geek, but it’s a label I wear with pride. Nobody plays the tuba better than I do—my plump lips create the perfect seal around the thick, cylindrical opening.

“Good morning, class.” Professor Bennett stands at the front of the room. “Today is a special day. We’ll be uncovering one of the human body’s greatest mysteries. How is it that two people can come together to create life? How do the genes mingle and dance? This is one of my favorite subjects.”

Professor Bennett launches into his lesson while we feverishly take notes. He describes the way sperm swim up the vaginal canal, competing for dominance. He describes the way they fertilize the egg, planting a seed. He details how it germinates and morphs into life.

He discusses evolution and the way physical attractiveness influences who is allowed to mate—it’s called sexual selection.

“And consider this—why do male birds have such colorful feathers? It’s because the males are in competition. The females choose those with the brightest plumage, and those are the genes that are passed down. Over time, birds are born with increasingly elaborate colors and patterns.”

I nod and scribble “fucking is competitive” into my notebook.

“This concept applies to humans as well, but it’s less obvious. Look at penis size—humans have massive cocks compared to other great apes. It’s possible this is due to aesthetic selection by females over time.”

The class snickers.

“But this is up for debate. There are other explanations for big dicks. For example, a large cockhead can scoop out rival cum during sex. Perhaps our large dicks are the result of ancient promiscuity.”

He continues the lesson, highlighting various masculine and feminine features that trigger sex responses.

The lesson passes quickly, and it isn’t long until students are packing up to leave. I stare down at my notebook. Some of the complexity here went over my head. I’m gonna have to read the textbook.

I pack my things and head for the door.

“Taylor, could you stay for a moment?” Professor Bennett calls out behind me.

I stop in my tracks and turn to him.

“Oh, sure.” I approach his desk while the room empties. “What is it, professor?”

“What did you think of today’s lesson?”

“It was great! You brought up a lot of things I’d never considered.”

“Good—I’m glad.” He smiles, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth. “I’ve been considering a new research project, but I need the help of a student. You’re one of the top performers in the class, and I thought you might be interested. It’s unpaid, but being a research assistant would look great on your résumé.”

“Woah.” My eyes grow wide. “Sir, that would be amazing!”

My pulse picks up. It’s true—being allowed to study under someone like Professor Bennett would be an honor. If we discover something new, I might even receive some credit.

“Perfect.” His smile widens. “You’ll be a great asset.”

“What kind of research are you doing though?”

“I’ll show you. Follow me.”

He beckons me toward that door at the front of the classroom. Waiting until the final student has left the room, he turns the handle and ushers me inside.

It’s dark, but he flips a switch illuminating a single tiny bulb hanging high overhead.

A gasp leaves my lips.

I always assumed this room was his office, but that’s not the case at all. The cramped space is lined with shelves supporting a dizzying array of biological oddities. Tiny jars sit in rows, each filled with thick liquid preserving specimens. A tiny shark…a squid…a bullfrog…what the hell am I looking at?!

The floorboards squeal as I step further inside. In the corner, a full teaching skeleton stands tall. Unlike the cheap plastic imitation outside, this one looks real. Nearby, a human brain floats inside a specimen jar. A chill races down my spine. It’s unsettling to know it used to be inside a person.

Professor Bennett leads the way, guiding me deeper into the dark closet. We pass yellowed teaching posters that look like they’re from the 1970s. We pass microscopes covered in cobwebs.

“What is all this?” I ask.

“You might not be aware, but this university used to be known for its biology department.” The professor stares forward while we walk. “A famous biologist used to teach here, but he was eventually fired after publishing some controversial research. After that, the university’s reputation declined, and the biology department shrank.”

“W-what kind of research did he do?” A weird feeling washes over me, causing my stomach to churn.