"The Unruly Transformation of Mrs. Gertrude Hensley"
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The heavy wooden door of the school library creaked open as Mrs. Gertrude Theodora Hensley, the school's ancient librarian, led James inside. Mrs. Hensley had been a teacher at Greenwood Elementary for as long as anyone could remember – 35 years older than James’s mother, to be precise. Today was her birthday, October 15th, born in the year 1942, making her a venerable 80 years old. She towered at a height of 5'8" and weighed a sturdy 160 pounds. Her steel-gray, tightly-coiled hair was pinned into an outdated bun at the back of her head. Her sharp blue eyes squinted behind thick, cat-eye horn-rimmed glasses, adorned with tiny rhinestones at the corners.
"Young man," Mrs. Hensley said sharply as she settled into her high-backed leather chair behind the desk, "you will remain here until I deem you have learned your lesson."
James's eyes welled with tears as he clutched his favorite stuffed toy - a small, worn-out teddy bear named Mr. Cuddles. His mother, Jane, had given it to him when he was born, on June 3rd, 2015. James was an average seven-year-old, about 3'10" tall, with tousled brown hair and bright hazel eyes.
"Please, Mrs. Hensley," James pleaded, his voice trembling, "I didn’t do anything wrong."
"Nonsense!" Mrs. Hensley snapped, her light-blue knee-length skirt swishing as she stood up. She wore an old-fashioned two-piece outfit; the top, a buttoned blouse, was tucked neatly into her skirt. Her platform sandals, faded brown and years out of style, thumped on the polished wooden floor.
Ignoring his protest, Mrs. Hensley spotted Mr. Cuddles and in a swift, no-nonsense motion snatched the bear from James's arms. "No distractions!" She marched back to her desk, opened a drawer, and stuffed Mr. Cuddles inside.
"Please give him back!" James cried, tears now streaming down his cheeks. "He makes me feel better!"
"No," Mrs. Hensley said sternly, looking over her glasses at him. "You will stay here quietly. I need to step out for a moment, and I expect you to behave." She paused at the doorway, "She'll be right back," she warned, before disappearing into the hallway.
James, feeling lost and desperate, glanced towards the desk. With a nervous gulp, he made his decision. He tiptoed carefully to the desk, his heart pounding in his chest. As he rounded the desk, he noticed Mrs. Hensley’s personal items laid out: her platform sandals kicked off and her glasses, jewelry, and wedding ring strewn beside the photo of herself taken, perhaps, decades ago. The picture, bearing the date 1965, showed a much younger Gertrude, still stern-looking even in her youth.
James shuddered but pressed on. He opened the drawer quietly and retrieved Mr. Cuddles. In his haste, he tripped over a loose corner of the rug, sending his shoes and socks flying off. He stumbled into the platform sandals, momentarily slipping his feet into them before kicking them off in disgust.
"Ew, gross! Girly shoes! Old lady shoes," he muttered loudly, sticking his tongue out.
Suddenly, a bizarre tingling sensation filled his feet. His young flesh began to crack and age, taking on a slightly wrinkled, feminine look. His toenails hardened, the same burgundy polish Mrs. Hensley wore forming on them.
"No, no, no, no!" James cried out, his eyes wide with fear. "Mommy! Oh, no! I don’t wanna be a girl! I don’t wanna be my meanie teacher!"
Despite his frantic attempts to scrape off the nail polish, the transformation continued. His legs elongated and became more woman-like, and his torso and chest matured, mirroring Mrs. Hensley’s old-fashioned feminine form. His arms and hands grew, his fingernails lengthening and turning the same polished burgundy color. He stumbled to a nearby mirror, horror-struck as his face aged and feminized into Mrs. Hensley’s strict visage.
His outfit altered as well, the fabric morphing into the same outdated two-piece Mrs. Hensley wore. In a final terrifying change, James's memories began to shift. He struggled to hold onto his own identity, but it was in vain; the essence of Mrs. Gertrude Hensley overpowered him. His—or rather, her—innocence diluted until only the stern, no-nonsense librarian remained.
“What was I doing again? Oh, come on, Gertrude, you're 80 years old. You've been a teacher at this school for 55 years,” she chided herself, shaking her head in mild confusion. She glanced down at her jewelry, her wedding ring, and her glasses on her desk. One piece at a time, she began putting them back on, adjusting each item meticulously. She slipped the wedding ring onto her finger, feeling its familiar weight. Next, she grabbed her glasses, placing them carefully on her nose, adjusting them to sit just right on her ears.
Finally, she slid her feet into the platform sandals, buckling and tightening each strap. Once satisfied, she stood up and surveyed the room. Spotting Mr. Cuddles on the ground where James had dropped him, she thumped over and bent down to pick it up.
“I confiscated this from that young boy, and he took it back without my permission. His mother will be getting a call from me to correct this unruly behavior at once. Nobody disobeys Mrs. Gertrude Hensley and gets away with it,” she muttered, walking back to her desk and placing Mr. Cuddles inside, slamming the drawer shut.
She picked up the discarded shoes and socks, staring at them with disdain. “Did that young man take off his shoes and socks to try on my sandals? How inappropriate. What is he thinking? These shoes are for ladies only. He's a boy, not a girl. How bizarre. I bet he wishes he could wear my clothes too and have his nails painted burgundy like me. What a little miscreant. If he were my son, I'd discipline him until he started acting right. I wish this was an all-boys school. Boys like him are so creepy and weird. I feel disgusted that he put on my sandals while I was gone. I've owned these shoes for over 30 years; got them from an old-fashioned store downtown,” she muttered, placing the shoes and socks on a nearby chair.
Gertrude picked up the photo of herself on the desk, staring at the image of her younger self. "Those were the days when America was still a proper place to live, not like now with all these modern women dressing like they want attention," she said wistfully, placing the photo back.
Completely unaware of her true identity, Mrs. Gertrude Hensley returned to her desk, restoring order as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
This story was generated by user manemansteve with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
AI Prompts
Prompt: long and thoroughly story about 7 year old James in the year 2022 stuck at school because he's been punished by one of his older female teachers whose in charge of the library as well against the wishes of his 20 year old mom. Include the teachers full name being an old school name, what she goes by to the students being old school, how long she's been a teacher at the school, age being 35+ years older than his mom, birthday, birth year being 35+ years before his mom, height, weight, hair color and style being an old fashioned style with a detailed description, eye color and have her wear cat eye horn brimmed glasses with a description of the glasses, and have her wear an old fashioned 2 piece teacher outfit of an knee length skirt and another piece with a description of the outfit and have her be wearing platform sandals with a description of the sandals being old looking and not pink with her nails painted with a description of the polish and have her be wearing old fashioned jewelry with a description of the jewelry and a wedding ring with a description of the ring. Have the boy be in a sorta detention due to something that wasn't his fault she believes was and have him be wearing a normal outfit of his own with a description of the outfit and a description of his hair color and eye color and height and birthday and birth year and have him be holding something that makes him feel better and more comfortable that he was holding cause he was in detention and include the item and what it was and who it was from. Have the teacher spot the item standing up and thumping over to the boy and taking his item and walking back over to behind her desk in the library and putting it in her drawer. Have the boy beg for it back and have it be in quoted text with tears in his eyes. Have the teacher say no and have it be in quoted text speaking like a strict old woman. Have her tell the boy she's going somewhere and will be right back and have it be in quoted text warning the boy to behave himself. Have the boy take this opportunity to get his item back walking worriedly closer to the teacher's desk. Have him go around to her side of the desk opening the drawer and seeing his item. Have him notice she kicked off her platform sandals and took off her glasses and her jewelry and her wedding ring getting grossed out at how old lady all her things looked. Have him notice an old picture of the teacher and describe what year it was taken and how old she was getting scared by how old she really was. Have him grab his item closing the drawer when he somehow managed to bump into or trip over something causing his shoes and socks to fly off leaving his feet bare and have him stumble into the platform sandals momentarily kicking them off immediately and going ew gross girly shoes old lady shoes and have it be in quoted text sticking his tongue out in disgust. Have his feet suddenly start tingling and cracking and aging feminizing getting slightly wrinkled as toenail polish with the color included and mentioned formed on his toenails matching his mean teacher's with detailed descriptions of his feet changing. Have him say no no no no no no mommy oh no i don't wanna be a girl i don't wanna be my meanie teacher and have it be in quoted text tears in his eyes frantically trying to scrape off the nail polish. Have his legs transform next feminizing and becoming old woman like with detailed descriptions of his legs changing. Have his torso and chest change next feminizing and maturing with detailed descriptions of his torso and chest changing. Have his arms and hands and fingers change next with detailed descriptions of his arms and hands and fingers maturing and feminizing as his fingernails slightly longer and with the same colored polish as his toes had. Have him stumble to a mirror watching his head and hair and face mature and feminize with detailed descriptions of his whole face changing into his mean teacher's. Have his outfit slowly change into the old fashioned 2 piece outfit with a detailed description of it forming. Have his memories start changing scaring him again and have him try to hold onto his innocence or at least hope to be a nicer teacher but have it be in vain as he slowly only remembered being the mean old teacher she always was minus her jewelry and wedding ring and glasses and platform sandals at the moment. Have the woman blink in confusion as she looked at herself in the mirror. Have her say what was i doing again oh come on ______ you're __ years old you've been a teacher at this school for __ years and have it be in quoted text filling in the blanks and going on and lecturing herself for being confused. Have her go back to her desk spotting her jewelry and her wedding ring and her glasses and her platform sandals having no memory of who she used to be. Have her start by putting her jewelry on piece by piece slowly with detailed descriptions of her doing so. Have her then slip her wedding ring on her finger with a detailed description of her doing so. Have her grab her glasses putting them on with a detailed description of her doing so. Have her grab her platform sandals sitting down and have her put the first sandal on with a detailed description of her doing so and adjusting it and tightening it. Have her do the same with the second sandal with a detailed description of her doing so and adjusting it and tightening it. Have her then stand up looking around the library before spotting the item she confiscated earlier and thumping over to it again. Have her bend down picking it up. Have her say i confiscated this from that _____ _____ and he took it back without my permission and snooped through my desk his mom will be getting a ______ from me to ______ this ______ behavior at once nobody disobeys _______ ______ and gets away with it and have it be in quoted text filling in the blanks having no memory of who she used to be. Have her thump back to her desk putting it back in the desk and slamming it shut noticing the shoes and socks discarded on the ground picking them up. Have her say did that yo___ ma___ take off his shoes and socks to try on my ______ how _______ what is he thinking these _____ are for ____ only he's a ____ not a _____ how ______ i bet he wishes he could wear my ____ too and my ___ and have his nails painted ____ like me what a little homo____ if he were my son i'd _____ him until he started acting right i wish this was an all ___ school ____ like him are so creepy and weird i feel ____ that he put on my _____ while i was gone i've owned these ____ for over __ years got them from _______ and have it be in quoted text filling in the blanks. Have her look at the photo of herself on the desk picking it up and have her say ____when Amer____ was still a ____ place to live not like now with all these _____ and women dressing like they want ____ and have it be in quoted text filling in the blanks.
Response: The heavy wooden door of the school library creaked open as Mrs. Gertrude Theodora Hensley, the school's ancient librarian, led James inside. Mrs. Hensley had been a teacher at Greenwood Elementary for as long as anyone could remember – 35 years older than James’s mother, to be precise. Today was her birthday, October 15th, born in the year 1942, making her a venerable 80 years old. She towered at a height of 5'8" and weighed a sturdy 160 pounds. Her steel-gray, tightly-coiled hair was pinned into an outdated bun at the back of her head. Her sharp blue eyes squinted behind thick, cat-eye horn-rimmed glasses, adorned with tiny rhinestones at the corners. "Young man," Mrs. Hensley said sharply as she settled into her high-backed leather chair behind the desk, "you will remain here until I deem you have learned your lesson." James's eyes welled with tears as he clutched his favorite stuffed toy - a small, worn-out teddy bear named Mr. Cuddles. His mother, Jane, had given it to him when he was born, on June 3rd, 2015. James was an average seven-year-old, about 3'10" tall, with tousled brown hair and bright hazel eyes. "Please, Mrs. Hensley," James pleaded, his voice trembling, "I didn’t do anything wrong." "Nonsense!" Mrs. Hensley snapped, her light-blue knee-length skirt swishing as she stood up. She wore an old-fashioned two-piece outfit; the top, a buttoned blouse, was tucked neatly into her skirt. Her platform sandals, faded brown and years out of style, thumped on the polished wooden floor. Ignoring his protest, Mrs. Hensley spotted Mr. Cuddles and in a swift, no-nonsense motion snatched the bear from James's arms. "No distractions!" She marched back to her desk, opened a drawer, and stuffed Mr. Cuddles inside. "Please give him back!" James cried, tears now streaming down his cheeks. "He makes me feel better!" "No," Mrs. Hensley said sternly, looking over her glasses at him. "You will stay here quietly. I need to step out for a moment, and I expect you to behave." She paused at the doorway, "She'll be right back," she warned, before disappearing into the hallway. James, feeling lost and desperate, glanced towards the desk. With a nervous gulp, he made his decision. He tiptoed carefully to the desk, his heart pounding in his chest. As he rounded the desk, he noticed Mrs. Hensley’s personal items laid out: her platform sandals kicked off and her glasses, jewelry, and wedding ring strewn beside the photo of herself taken, perhaps, decades ago. The picture, bearing the date 1965, showed a much younger Gertrude, still stern-looking even in her youth. James shuddered but pressed on. He opened the drawer quietly and retrieved Mr. Cuddles. In his haste, he tripped over a loose corner of the rug, sending his shoes and socks flying off. He stumbled into the platform sandals, momentarily slipping his feet into them before kicking them off in disgust. "Ew, gross! Girly shoes! Old lady shoes," he muttered loudly, sticking his tongue out. Suddenly, a bizarre tingling sensation filled his feet. His young flesh began to crack and age, taking on a slightly wrinkled, feminine look. His toenails hardened, the same burgundy polish Mrs. Hensley wore forming on them. "No, no, no, no!" James cried out, his eyes wide with fear. "Mommy! Oh, no! I don’t wanna be a girl! I don’t wanna be my meanie teacher!" Despite his frantic attempts to scrape off the nail polish, the transformation continued. His legs elongated and became more woman-like, and his torso and chest matured, mirroring Mrs. Hensley’s old-fashioned feminine form. His arms and hands grew, his fingernails lengthening and turning the same polished burgundy color. He stumbled to a nearby mirror, horror-struck as his face aged and feminized into Mrs. Hensley’s strict visage. His outfit altered as well, the fabric morphing into the same outdated two-piece Mrs. Hensley wore. In a final terrifying change, James's memories began to shift. He struggled to hold onto his own identity, but it was in vain; the essence of Mrs. Gertrude Hensley overpowered him. His—or rather, her—innocence diluted until only the stern, no-nonsense librarian remained. “What was I doing again? Oh, come on, Gertrude, you're 80 years old. You've been a teacher at this school for 55 years,” she chided herself, shaking her head in mild confusion. She glanced down at her jewelry, her wedding ring, and her glasses on her desk. One piece at a time, she began putting them back on, adjusting each item meticulously. She slipped the wedding ring onto her finger, feeling its familiar weight. Next, she grabbed her glasses, placing them carefully on her nose, adjusting them to sit just right on her ears. Finally, she slid her feet into the platform sandals, buckling and tightening each strap. Once satisfied, she stood up and surveyed the room. Spotting Mr. Cuddles on the ground where James had dropped him, she thumped over and bent down to pick it up. “I confiscated this from that young boy, and he took it back without my permission. His mother will be getting a call from me to correct this unruly behavior at once. Nobody disobeys Mrs. Gertrude Hensley and gets away with it,” she muttered, walking back to her desk and placing Mr. Cuddles inside, slamming the drawer shut. She picked up the discarded shoes and socks, staring at them with disdain. “Did that young man take off his shoes and socks to try on my sandals? How inappropriate. What is he thinking? These shoes are for ladies only. He's a boy, not a girl. How bizarre. I bet he wishes he could wear my clothes too and have his nails painted burgundy like me. What a little miscreant. If he were my son, I'd discipline him until he started acting right. I wish this was an all-boys school. Boys like him are so creepy and weird. I feel disgusted that he put on my sandals while I was gone. I've owned these shoes for over 30 years; got them from an old-fashioned store downtown,” she muttered, placing the shoes and socks on a nearby chair. Gertrude picked up the photo of herself on the desk, staring at the image of her younger self. "Those were the days when America was still a proper place to live, not like now with all these modern women dressing like they want attention," she said wistfully, placing the photo back. Completely unaware of her true identity, Mrs. Gertrude Hensley returned to her desk, restoring order as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
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