"Borrowed Curves: Mom's Day Out"
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When I heard my brother Jack scream from upstairs, I thought maybe Mr. Fluffernutter, our cat, had thrown up on his bed again. But when I saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror, sporting my mom's face, and realized my science experiment had gone awry, I knew it was going to be one heck of a day. Turns out, I am *really* good at this whole accidental mad scientist thing.
My name’s David, and, thanks to a failed attempt to transfer consciousness to a robot (science fair project, don't ask), I woke up this morning in my mother Amanda's curvy body. And boy, does she have curves! I struggled with the sudden weight distribution; seriously, how does she not fall over with these?
I saunter downstairs, trying to muster the grace of a '70s Bond girl. My mission: coffee. As I sipped a glorious mug of overpriced home-brewed espresso with delicate, French-tipped fingers, Jack appeared at the stairs, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Sup, bro," I greeted him, struggling to balance the coffee with one hand, as the other was busy ahem, adjusting. I couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes kept drifting to “my” chest. Mom’s green low-cut blouse was working overtime, and her leggings were—questionable. I mean, can someone slap a PG-13 rating on the outfit?
"D-Dad?" Jack stammered.
"Nope, still me, little bro!" I winked, which probably came off as creepy given the context. "Hey, do me a favor and tell your friends I've got bazookas now." I lifted up my top to reveal an alarming amount of cleavage, snapped a quick selfie, and sent it to his group chat with the caption: "Need to cool these down, fellas!"
Jack's jaw hit the floor faster than you could say "awkward family dinner."
Little did he (or anyone else) know, I had a plan. Freshly armed with mom’s assets, pun intended, it seemed only logical to milk this (not literally—gross). After a browse through her wardrobe, I found some lingerie and bikinis that even Victoria’s Secret would envy. The rest of my day was a whirlwind of posing, snapping, and Photoshopping.
I aimed for an effortless, classic beauty. Translation: Mom was now a legend in our group chat. My friends and I had joked for years about who had the hottest mom, and today, my mom ironically took the crown. I mean, she technically took the crown via my hands, but we don't think too hard about these things in the bro community.
"Dude, your mom's a total MILF!" one buddy texted back.
"Literally crying, bro!" I replied, throwing in a laughing emoji for effect.
Now, thrust into the limelight, Mom's—no, my—pictures started rolling in the praise like never before. The cash followed too, and my phone was lighting up faster than a Christmas tree—if Christmas trees enjoyed sultry photoshoots.
"I can't believe you!" Jack finally yelled, snapping out of his daze. "Where's Mom? Does she know?"
"She's busy figuring out how to use a straight razor without decapitating herself," I quipped.
Arguably, the situation wasn’t entirely ethical, but some legends are born under strange circumstances—mine just happened to involve a failed science project, awkward family dynamics, and a shopping spree I never knew I wanted.
As the texts and cash rolled in, I just couldn’t help but smirk in my borrowed body. The old adage felt truer than ever: if you got it, flaunt it. And today, Amanda’s got it, courtesy of David's entrepreneurial spirit and accidental genius.
Forget science fair medals—I'm aiming for Instagram fame and a padded wallet.
This story was generated by user zach3 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: write a story with dialogue where A family body swap story where my science experiment accidentally swapped my families bodies. The day was strange, I walk downstairs to see my mother Amanda's redheaded and curvy form wearing green low cut blouse that showed off a ton of cleavage, it was one I had seen mom wear a few times but it was still quite a lot. She also was wearing some leggings that really accentuated her childbearing wide hips and her ass. In fact, this wasn't my mother at all this was my brother David inhabiting her body after the swap had occurred. "Sup Bro" he says to me as a walk downstairs seeing him sip some coffee his hands now manicured each feminine finger having French tipped red nails. he complains about how top heavy mom is and sends a selfie to his buddies shoeing off his massive cleavage with a caption saying I've got bazookas now guys Little did I know David was going to find some of mom lingerie's and bikinis and send photos to his friends wearing them for some cash. Davis knew that his friends thought his Mom was a MILF so he was going to use it to his advantage. What was that old adage if you got it flaunt it. And most definitely David had it now. He had a grade A rack and an ass to match. David is now the legend of the group chat and his friends rain the cash on him for his photos. Write the story from David perspective.
Response: When I heard my brother Jack scream from upstairs, I thought maybe Mr. Fluffernutter, our cat, had thrown up on his bed again. But when I saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror, sporting my mom's face, and realized my science experiment had gone awry, I knew it was going to be one heck of a day. Turns out, I am *really* good at this whole accidental mad scientist thing. My name’s David, and, thanks to a failed attempt to transfer consciousness to a robot (science fair project, don't ask), I woke up this morning in my mother Amanda's curvy body. And boy, does she have curves! I struggled with the sudden weight distribution; seriously, how does she not fall over with these? I saunter downstairs, trying to muster the grace of a '70s Bond girl. My mission: coffee. As I sipped a glorious mug of overpriced home-brewed espresso with delicate, French-tipped fingers, Jack appeared at the stairs, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Sup, bro," I greeted him, struggling to balance the coffee with one hand, as the other was busy ahem, adjusting. I couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes kept drifting to “my” chest. Mom’s green low-cut blouse was working overtime, and her leggings were—questionable. I mean, can someone slap a PG-13 rating on the outfit? "D-Dad?" Jack stammered. "Nope, still me, little bro!" I winked, which probably came off as creepy given the context. "Hey, do me a favor and tell your friends I've got bazookas now." I lifted up my top to reveal an alarming amount of cleavage, snapped a quick selfie, and sent it to his group chat with the caption: "Need to cool these down, fellas!" Jack's jaw hit the floor faster than you could say "awkward family dinner." Little did he (or anyone else) know, I had a plan. Freshly armed with mom’s assets, pun intended, it seemed only logical to milk this (not literally—gross). After a browse through her wardrobe, I found some lingerie and bikinis that even Victoria’s Secret would envy. The rest of my day was a whirlwind of posing, snapping, and Photoshopping. I aimed for an effortless, classic beauty. Translation: Mom was now a legend in our group chat. My friends and I had joked for years about who had the hottest mom, and today, my mom ironically took the crown. I mean, she technically took the crown via my hands, but we don't think too hard about these things in the bro community. "Dude, your mom's a total MILF!" one buddy texted back. "Literally crying, bro!" I replied, throwing in a laughing emoji for effect. Now, thrust into the limelight, Mom's—no, my—pictures started rolling in the praise like never before. The cash followed too, and my phone was lighting up faster than a Christmas tree—if Christmas trees enjoyed sultry photoshoots. "I can't believe you!" Jack finally yelled, snapping out of his daze. "Where's Mom? Does she know?" "She's busy figuring out how to use a straight razor without decapitating herself," I quipped. Arguably, the situation wasn’t entirely ethical, but some legends are born under strange circumstances—mine just happened to involve a failed science project, awkward family dynamics, and a shopping spree I never knew I wanted. As the texts and cash rolled in, I just couldn’t help but smirk in my borrowed body. The old adage felt truer than ever: if you got it, flaunt it. And today, Amanda’s got it, courtesy of David's entrepreneurial spirit and accidental genius. Forget science fair medals—I'm aiming for Instagram fame and a padded wallet.
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