A Man Called Harrison.

Chapter 1
Mr. Harrison

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Chapter Description: A new teacher at a college hides a powerful secret.

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The bell for assembly rang. The students filed into the assembly hall. When the head teacher stood, signaling for silence, everyone turned to face the front and fell silent.

"We bid welcome to a new teacher," he began, "after one of our English teachers, Mrs. Smith, was offered a new job in the Maldives. We welcome, Mr. George Harrison!"

A man with a brown mop of hair and a small goatee was to his feet and took a small bow.

"Also, could the football team please report..."

Later

Class 5A’s english lesson was not until the next day. People in the class discussed with others of the year what he was like, as one class had had him beforehand. It seemed he was an OK teacher, he just looked round the class’s notes, asking them questions, and reading aloud their IQ numbers, sometimes to the humiliation of one or two of the class.

Wednesday, 1.45. 5A filed into Mr. Harrison’s classroom and took out their files. After a minute or two of waiting, he walked in, holding a stack of paper, and holding his left hand fairly weirdly, as if he was holding something he didn’t want them to see.

"Right, i just want to ask you a few questions, to see what you have been doing with your previous teacher." He said, already beginning to walk round the class, asking them to open their books.

All the while his left hand was in his pocket. On passing Emma Jackson, she noticed a shiny silver small rod-like thing just briefly, behind his hand.

"Right, when was the battle of Hastings?" he asked.

"1066," replied Emma, who everyone in the class knew was the boffin of the year.

"Ok, thank you, er...."

"Emma. Emma Jackson."

"Right, thank you... Okay, 560 + 1205?"

The class foraged in their bags, feeling for their calculators.

Once again, Emma put her hand up first.

"1765!"

"Right, again, Emma. Okay, which shakespearian play had the line "I wondered lonely as a clo...."

"Sir, Shakespeare didn’t write that!" Emma objected.

Mr. Harrison blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"William Wordsworth wrote that, sir! Shakespeare’s famous for "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day", not daffodils!"

"Thank you, Emma...." Mr. Harrison turned briefly to write something on a piece of paper, then he looked in the class register. "Your IQ is 143, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hmm.... okay, Emma, I just want you to stay behind after class. You don’t have any lessons next?"

"No, sir, we have free time after 2:25 on wednesday."

"Excellent."

"Okay, someone rather than Emma, next question....."

2:25

The bell for break sounded, and a scraping of chairs followed immediately. Emma sat at her desk, packing her stuff away neatly, then waited patiently for the rest of the class to leave.

"Yes, Mr. Harrison? You wanted to see me?"

"Quick Question. You ever played with dolls when you were young?"

"it’s a bit irrelevant, isn’t it, Mr. Harrison?"

"Answer."

"Well, i did use to play with Barbie dolls, but i grew out of them at a very early age. Their crude expressions threw me off a little. Why?"

"Because, and this will sound very odd, to a girl, with me being a man and all, but i need a way to immobilize you for a short period of time."

"What do you mean?"

As she finished speaking, she heard the door lock, and all the blinds close.

"I’ve been looking for someone with your intellect, miss Jackson. I need to steal it. In order to do that, i need to take you away, but i can’t do that with you as you are."

The silver rod-like thing shot out of his pocket in an instant, resting in his hand. A red-colored beam shot out of the end, striking Emma in the middle of her chest.

Instantly, from her feet upward, her skin began to change. She looked down, and saw her once rough skinned legs, with a few hairs, becoming smoother, harder, almost like plastic. She lost feeling in her feet, and soon lost feeling in her lower legs.

"What are you doing to me?" She shrieked.

"Calm down, it will happen faster if you do," he laughed.

She felt her crotch also beginning to harden, and her arse also was losing some feeling. She felt her vagina and her buttcrack being filled with whatever it was now covering her legs, now rendered completely useless and immobile.

She felt pain as her stomach began to harden, as if she was losing all her digestive organs, slowly, as if they were just popping out of existence. Her breasts became hard and lifeless, but her heart and lungs didn’t disappear.

Her arms began to solidify, and they bent themselves into a straight position, her hands becoming fixed in a "relaxed" position. She lost feeling in her neck, and as the lower half of her face became hard, she felt her mouth moving, being fixed in a crude smile.

Feeling her teeth with her tongue, she felt the gaps between them vanish, and they moved together, the jawline being melted together, as well. Her tongue disappeared. Her nose began to solidify, but her nostrils were still open, so she could still breath.

Her eyelids solidified, her eyelashes growing longer, so long no human could have them naturally. Her eyebrows became fixed in one position, and she could tell they were becoming nothing more than painted lines on her forehead. She could no longer blink.

She felt her hair change, becoming no more than dyed horse-tail hair.

She felt a lot of pain on her ankles, her knees, her hips, her shoulders, her neck, her elbows and her wrists. Despite now being made of plastic, she could still feel pain.

She saw, out of the corner of her eye, her elbow joint changing, so that it was attached to her upper arm only by a largish, pink plastic bolt. her wrists were now a swivel joint, so that they could only be revolved. She presumed the same had happened to her legs, and her head could also be moved via a swivel joint.

She now was a giant replica of a blonde-haired, blue eyed, Barbie doll, still wearing her college uniform.

"It isn’t over yet," said Mr. Harrison, with a chuckle.

He was right. She felt her size diminish, going down past the table, the chair, the top of her bag, eventually coming to rest just below the handle of her bag.

Immobile, small, and defenseless, Emma could do nothing to stop Mr. Harrison picking her up and stuffing her in his own bag.

He shot a green beam at her bag, causing it to shrink into oblivion.

Inside his bag, Emma could feel the items of his college teaching stuff banging against various parts of her body.

"I don’t like this," she thought. "I want to be in command of my body again, to move, to have sex.... I wonder what he has planned for me? Must be pretty desperate if he had to turn me into a Barbie doll... *THUMP!* "Ow..! That must be him putting me in his car. Yes, there’s the engine, he must be taking me to his house. Why ME, though? What’s so important about me? What about my friends, my family? What will they think?" If she was able to, she would be in floods of tears right now. "Unless he’s a barbie doll designer, and he’s been commissioned to find new designs for dolls... Yes, that must be it."

Mr. Harrison arrived at his house, took the bag out of the car, and entered the house. On the way, he passed a small, stone sculpture of a naked woman by his staircase. If Emma could hear properly, she’d have heard it screaming very in a very quiet voice.

Upstairs, Mr. Harrison unzipped his bag, and took Emma out of his bag, and placed he on his windowsill.

"Okay, miss Jackson, I believe i owe you an explanation."

"Yes, you do," thought the doll, annoyed.

"As you have noticed, Miss Jackson, my intellect is not very good. And, as i desire to be the most geniusly genius person in the world, i need to borrow other people’s, which i do using this." He flourished his tool.

"You seem to be the brightest spark in your year, so i decided i should steal yours, which would make me really clever, but in order to do that, i have to make you forget all that you have learned in your time."

"And how can you possibly do that?"

"I will do that, by stealing your mind, basically. Oh no, you won’t lose it all. You’ll have some left. Enough to say that you’ll be out of diapers in about seven months time."

"You’re going to turn me into a BABY?" Thought Emma frantically. The problem with being a Barbie doll is that you can’t show emotion. Not even in your eyes, which, despite being movable, are fixed to show only a happy posture.

"But, despite being able to turn you into a Doll, i can not make you younger, if i want to keep your knowledge, else all i will know is a baby’s knowledge, and i have to keep you at your present age to make it work."

He aimed the device at Emma. A red beam struck the doll, making it grow. As she grew, Emma felt her organs returning, control returning, and her skin going back to normal.

"All that remains is to do this..." A blue beam shot out, striking Emma even as she began to dodge.

"You don’t have to do this!" She shouted, as her mind began to fog.

"What about my family?"

"They have forgotten about you. Your school will think you took a Gap Year a year early. Your previous teacher makes a nice decoration. It’s a good thing you won’t join her."

Emma’s mind was now too fogged to ask what he meant. "Me No underthtand... Why me looth efryfing? Why me hafta go back whittwe? Why...." Her mind turned to utter gibberish, as the 17-year-old girl fell to the floor, and began drooling, pee also spattering the floor.

To Be Continued.

 

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