Cowboy no More
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Title: Cowboy no More
"Whew! Riding around the range ain't what it used to be, partner," remarked my buddy, delicately adjusting his bra, sweat sitting on his forehead. He was wearing a fitting tank top that showcased his newfound curves and a pair of tight denim shorts that highlighted his changed physique. He was scratching at his chin, the beard which used to reside there replaced with notable smoothness.
I stared, still unable to get used to the sight. My best bud, the rugged cowboy I had grown up with, was dealing with one hell of a biological prank. "Second puberty," they had called it; an unusual occurrence where men transformed into women.
"There's always a sports bra, amigo," I gently suggested, not knowing how to ease my longtime friend's discomfort. He grimaced, grilling up some burgers while persistently chasing away the wind-blown hair strands out of his face.
"A sports bra!" he scoffed, "Do they come with lassos and cowhide designs?"
I laughed, trying to cut the thick awkwardness that hung in the air. "They might if you're lucky."
"Well, reckon I'll have to get me some of those," he sighed, looking annoyed yet resigned. "Never thought gettin' in the saddle would come with its own discomforts. My boobs just keep bouncing around!"
I tried my best not to splutter out my drink, choking at his unorthodox complaint.
"Well, there's no Tom, Dick, or Harry turnin' into a Jane, Cindy, or Daisy around these parts. So, have you thought of any new names that suit you?" I finally gathered the courage to ask.
He paused, flipping the burgers a bit too hard, "Nu-uh, no siree. I ain't need no frilly name change. I'm still the cowboy you know – the same old cowboy."
"Even with the noticeable...changes?" I quirked an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face.
"Well," he paused, pondering, "Guess you're right. Maybe..." He glanced down at his curves then back at me, "How does Betty sound?"
I coughed, nearly choking on my soda. "Betty... the cowboy?"
He smirked, looking at peace with his strange predicament. "Why not? Wild West ain't seen nothin' like me before." He puffed up with pride.
Over burgers and laughter that day, we toasted to 'Betty the Unconventional Cowboy'. Despite the amusingly bizarre transition, I noticed one thing hadn't changed - his 'manly man' spirit. No matter the body, some things always remain inherently unchanged.
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 My buddy was your typical cowboy type guy. He was always helping me out with cars and handy work, he was far more of your typical manly man than I was. But that all changed once he got second puberty which is a strange occurrence that only happens in men where a man turns into a woman. His muscles and beard turned into a curvy figure. He’s still trying to be the same old cowboy he used to be. It’s just not the same anymore. I even think he might be attracted to guys now, not that he’d ever admit it. I came over to check on him at his ranch and he was making burgers for us and he kept adjusting his bra annoyed and blowing his hair out of his face. He talked about the struggle of riding horses with his new boobs bouncing around. Luckily, he was able to find a tank top and some booty shorts that show off his new figure. I asked him if he had thought of a new feminine name for himself.
Response: Title: Cowboy no More "Whew! Riding around the range ain't what it used to be, partner," remarked my buddy, delicately adjusting his bra, sweat sitting on his forehead. He was wearing a fitting tank top that showcased his newfound curves and a pair of tight denim shorts that highlighted his changed physique. He was scratching at his chin, the beard which used to reside there replaced with notable smoothness. I stared, still unable to get used to the sight. My best bud, the rugged cowboy I had grown up with, was dealing with one hell of a biological prank. "Second puberty," they had called it; an unusual occurrence where men transformed into women. "There's always a sports bra, amigo," I gently suggested, not knowing how to ease my longtime friend's discomfort. He grimaced, grilling up some burgers while persistently chasing away the wind-blown hair strands out of his face. "A sports bra!" he scoffed, "Do they come with lassos and cowhide designs?" I laughed, trying to cut the thick awkwardness that hung in the air. "They might if you're lucky." "Well, reckon I'll have to get me some of those," he sighed, looking annoyed yet resigned. "Never thought gettin' in the saddle would come with its own discomforts. My boobs just keep bouncing around!" I tried my best not to splutter out my drink, choking at his unorthodox complaint. "Well, there's no Tom, Dick, or Harry turnin' into a Jane, Cindy, or Daisy around these parts. So, have you thought of any new names that suit you?" I finally gathered the courage to ask. He paused, flipping the burgers a bit too hard, "Nu-uh, no siree. I ain't need no frilly name change. I'm still the cowboy you know – the same old cowboy." "Even with the noticeable...changes?" I quirked an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. "Well," he paused, pondering, "Guess you're right. Maybe..." He glanced down at his curves then back at me, "How does Betty sound?" I coughed, nearly choking on my soda. "Betty... the cowboy?" He smirked, looking at peace with his strange predicament. "Why not? Wild West ain't seen nothin' like me before." He puffed up with pride. Over burgers and laughter that day, we toasted to 'Betty the Unconventional Cowboy'. Despite the amusingly bizarre transition, I noticed one thing hadn't changed - his 'manly man' spirit. No matter the body, some things always remain inherently unchanged.
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