“Curveballs and Curves”
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Title: “Curveballs and Curves”
---
**Pitcher’s Mound - Tim**
Tim adjusted the waistband of his way-too-large baseball pants, frowning at the long strands of his mom’s strawberry blonde hair spilling into his face. “Guys, I can’t see the catcher,” Tim called out, his voice an octave higher than usual. He awkwardly moved the hair out of his eyes, only to grimace as his newly manicured nails scratched his forehead. Each pitch he threw looked more like a gentle lob, his focus split between the game and the alien sensation of his mom's rather prominent assets bouncing with each throw.
“Hey Tim, nice changeup,” his mom—now in Tim’s body—shouted from the dugout. She gave a double thumbs-up, her enthusiasm almost as unsettling as the situation.
“Thanks, Mom!” Tim muttered sarcastically, trying not to think too much about how tight his sports bra felt. “But these things are like airbags. How do you even run with them?”
---
**Catcher’s Spot - Jake**
Jake squatted behind home plate, wincing as his hips didn’t quite settle into the stance the way he remembered. “Oh my god, these thighs!” he complained loudly, feeling his mom’s soft, curvaceous form fill out his catcher’s gear in all the wrong places. He had to remind himself repeatedly not to adjust his chest protector—no amount of shifting was going to make there be less of... well, everything.
“Nice stop, Jake!” his mom said from the stands, trying to clap with his enormous, now-gloved hands, but failing spectacularly.
Jake glared out from under his thick, mascara-laden lashes. “Sure, Mom. This is just... great. Want to switch back already?”
“Not a chance!” she replied with a smirk. “Your body is so light! I got almost 8,000 steps today.”
---
**First Base - Andy**
Andy stood at first base, admiring his newly manicured nails. “I gotta say,” he admitted, “these look pretty damn good.” He struck a pose, mimicking a hand-model. “Who would’ve thought Mom had it this good?”
“Less posing, more catching,” Coach demanded, snapping him out of his reverie.
His mom, trying to be supportive from his body, yelled, “Focus, Andy! It’s all about timing!”
“Telling me how to play baseball now? Really?” Andy shot back, rolling his eyes. A ground ball came sizzling his way. He performed a split—well, his mom’s version of a split—and snagged it. The problem began as he tried to get up and stumbled, the extra weight on his chest making him tilt forward. “Ugh, these boobs are like having two dumbbells strapped to my chest!”
---
**Shortstop - David**
David jumped as high as his mom's legs would allow, just barely missing the ball. “What’s with these hips?” he grumbled. “It’s like playing baseball on stilts.”
From the side, his mom cheered, “You’re doing great, honey! Just remember to swivel those hips!”
David’s eyes went wide. “Mom, this is a baseball game, not a dance recital!” He teetered slightly but managed to plant his modified body firmly on the dirt. The feel of his longer, styled hair brushing against his neck was so different from his usual buzz cut that it made him shiver.
“You look fabulous out there, sweetie!” she continued, somehow turning the encouragement up to eleven.
“If you say so,” David muttered, moving in ways his teammates found hilarious but still managing a nimble double play. “Just so you know, Mom, I’m totally getting a haircut when this is over.”
---
**Second Base - Ryan**
Ryan was living a personal nightmare as his mom’s hips swayed with each move. “Stop swinging, stop swinging...” he chanted under his breath while approaching home base, a ground ball heading straight for him.
“Oof! That’s how it’s done!” he announced after catching and throwing to first, though he couldn’t ignore the bounce and jiggle that accompanied every step. He needed his focus in the game, but all he could think about was how his nails shined when they caught the sunlight. “Mom, how do you walk in heels?” he shouted from his spot, hating the way his body had a bit of a sway now, even in cleats.
“You get used to it, honey!” she called back in his voice, two arms flexing in a weird, awkward show of support.
“I hope this spell breaks soon,” he muttered. “These curves are throwing me off my game!”
---
**Third Base - Josh**
Josh slapped his glove in frustration, watching the ball whiz by. “Stupid hair!” he grumbled, blowing a strand of it out of his face. “I can’t see through this mop!”
“Just tuck it behind your ear, honey,” his mom advised, standing in the on-deck circle and somehow managing to maintain her balance in Josh’s awkward, lanky body.
Josh tried, but it promptly fell forward again. “How do you deal with this every day, Mom?” he demanded. Another grounder came his way and he scooped it up, jiggling all the while.
“You just get used to it. Plus, your mom’s got it goin’ on!” his mom cheered, trying out a flex that made her biceps look more like noodles.
Josh could only shake his head. “Let’s just get through this game without any wardrobe malfunctions, please.” He snatched another grounder and flung it to first, the motion somewhat impeded by the unsettling new heaviness on his chest.
---
**Left Field - Greg**
Greg nearly missed a fly ball as he was distracted by the loud clinking of his mom’s bracelets. “Dang it!” he shouted as the ball thudded into his glove at the last second. “Mom, do you always wear this much bling?”
“Of course, sweetheart!” his mom yelled from the fence, drawing attention to the gaudy bracelets adorning what was now Greg’s skinny, teenaged arms. “It’s fashionable!”
“Fashionable for you, a distraction for me,” he muttered. Each movement felt different, with his mom’s generous hips making it near impossible to make sharp turns. Nonetheless, he gave a thumbs-up when he made the catch.
“That’s my boy! Or... girl, or... well, you get the point!” his mom hollered.
Greg just flushed a deep red. “Please don’t say that too loudly, Mom. This is embarrassing enough!”
---
**Center Field - Sam**
Sam fought back tears of frustration and amusement as his freshly done nails kept snagging on his glove. “This manicure is killing me,” he called to his friends, showing off the sparkly polish. “But damn, they are fabulous.”
From the sidelines, his mom smiled proudly. “See, I told you! A good manicure can do wonders!”
Sam sighed, shaking his head as he readied himself for another incoming ball. “I think my nails are more distracting for me than for the other team,” he muttered, instinctively tossing his hair over his shoulder. “Also, Mom, can you please tie this hair back? It’s like a damned curtain!”
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” his mom began, “just remember—”
Sam interrupted, already knowing the speech. “—to enjoy the moment. Got it, thanks, Mom.”
---
**Right Field - Kevin**
Kevin was halfway through a burp when he realized his mom’s more ladylike body made it sound utterly ridiculous. “This whole thing is bonkers,” he said as quietly as possible, hoping his mom didn’t hear. “Boobs, hair, nails—what’s next? Heels?”
Nearby, his mom in his body was happily stretching his legs. “Glad you’re appreciating my style, honey. And remember, a little bounce won’t hurt you!”
Kevin couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Wish you’d said that years ago, Mom! Being out here with these...,” he awkwardly gestured towards his chest, causing a fit of laughter from nearby players.
“Hey Kevin, just tuck them in and focus on the game!” his friend Josh called from third base, trying not to crack up himself.
“Yeah, yeah,” Kevin laughed, managing to catch a ball despite moving with the grace of a newborn giraffe. “I’ll get there eventually.”
---
**At Bat - Mike**
Mike swung the bat, missed, and momentarily grabbed his chest, an expression of utter shock on his face. “Ow, right in the boob!” he exclaimed, his voice a high-pitched echo of disbelief.
The entire team erupted in laughter, the sound filling the field. “I mean, come on, Mike, it’s not every day you get to say that!” Tim yelled, enjoying the rare chance to give his best friend a friendly ribbing.
Mike’s mom in his body was nearly in tears from laughing so hard. “Yeah, that can happen, dear. Welcome to my world!”
“Thanks, Mom. This is all kinds of fun,” Mike said with heavy sarcasm, stepping back up to the plate. With a deep breath—a bit restricted due to his mom’s body being so different than his—he focused on the game.
Nails, boobs, hips, hair, laughter—the whole day was an absurd interplay of body-swapping chaos. Yet somehow, in their busty new forms, the team managed to forge through with a new understanding and a lot of humor. Sure, they might have jiggled and tumbled their way through nine innings, but it was a game they’d never forget.
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 Everyone on my brothers high school baseball team swaps bodies with their busty moms after and odd occurrence during the practice write a paragraph for every position on the filed talking about how their new boobs, hair, hips, and nails throw off throw off their game but how they still love their new bodies write about their moms in their bodies trying to support them as well. One guy even gets hit on the boob while batting which makes everyone laugh Make each paragraph have lots of details about each players new busty life and also make every paragraph have plenty of dialogue.
Response: Title: “Curveballs and Curves” --- **Pitcher’s Mound - Tim** Tim adjusted the waistband of his way-too-large baseball pants, frowning at the long strands of his mom’s strawberry blonde hair spilling into his face. “Guys, I can’t see the catcher,” Tim called out, his voice an octave higher than usual. He awkwardly moved the hair out of his eyes, only to grimace as his newly manicured nails scratched his forehead. Each pitch he threw looked more like a gentle lob, his focus split between the game and the alien sensation of his mom's rather prominent assets bouncing with each throw. “Hey Tim, nice changeup,” his mom—now in Tim’s body—shouted from the dugout. She gave a double thumbs-up, her enthusiasm almost as unsettling as the situation. “Thanks, Mom!” Tim muttered sarcastically, trying not to think too much about how tight his sports bra felt. “But these things are like airbags. How do you even run with them?” --- **Catcher’s Spot - Jake** Jake squatted behind home plate, wincing as his hips didn’t quite settle into the stance the way he remembered. “Oh my god, these thighs!” he complained loudly, feeling his mom’s soft, curvaceous form fill out his catcher’s gear in all the wrong places. He had to remind himself repeatedly not to adjust his chest protector—no amount of shifting was going to make there be less of... well, everything. “Nice stop, Jake!” his mom said from the stands, trying to clap with his enormous, now-gloved hands, but failing spectacularly. Jake glared out from under his thick, mascara-laden lashes. “Sure, Mom. This is just... great. Want to switch back already?” “Not a chance!” she replied with a smirk. “Your body is so light! I got almost 8,000 steps today.” --- **First Base - Andy** Andy stood at first base, admiring his newly manicured nails. “I gotta say,” he admitted, “these look pretty damn good.” He struck a pose, mimicking a hand-model. “Who would’ve thought Mom had it this good?” “Less posing, more catching,” Coach demanded, snapping him out of his reverie. His mom, trying to be supportive from his body, yelled, “Focus, Andy! It’s all about timing!” “Telling me how to play baseball now? Really?” Andy shot back, rolling his eyes. A ground ball came sizzling his way. He performed a split—well, his mom’s version of a split—and snagged it. The problem began as he tried to get up and stumbled, the extra weight on his chest making him tilt forward. “Ugh, these boobs are like having two dumbbells strapped to my chest!” --- **Shortstop - David** David jumped as high as his mom's legs would allow, just barely missing the ball. “What’s with these hips?” he grumbled. “It’s like playing baseball on stilts.” From the side, his mom cheered, “You’re doing great, honey! Just remember to swivel those hips!” David’s eyes went wide. “Mom, this is a baseball game, not a dance recital!” He teetered slightly but managed to plant his modified body firmly on the dirt. The feel of his longer, styled hair brushing against his neck was so different from his usual buzz cut that it made him shiver. “You look fabulous out there, sweetie!” she continued, somehow turning the encouragement up to eleven. “If you say so,” David muttered, moving in ways his teammates found hilarious but still managing a nimble double play. “Just so you know, Mom, I’m totally getting a haircut when this is over.” --- **Second Base - Ryan** Ryan was living a personal nightmare as his mom’s hips swayed with each move. “Stop swinging, stop swinging...” he chanted under his breath while approaching home base, a ground ball heading straight for him. “Oof! That’s how it’s done!” he announced after catching and throwing to first, though he couldn’t ignore the bounce and jiggle that accompanied every step. He needed his focus in the game, but all he could think about was how his nails shined when they caught the sunlight. “Mom, how do you walk in heels?” he shouted from his spot, hating the way his body had a bit of a sway now, even in cleats. “You get used to it, honey!” she called back in his voice, two arms flexing in a weird, awkward show of support. “I hope this spell breaks soon,” he muttered. “These curves are throwing me off my game!” --- **Third Base - Josh** Josh slapped his glove in frustration, watching the ball whiz by. “Stupid hair!” he grumbled, blowing a strand of it out of his face. “I can’t see through this mop!” “Just tuck it behind your ear, honey,” his mom advised, standing in the on-deck circle and somehow managing to maintain her balance in Josh’s awkward, lanky body. Josh tried, but it promptly fell forward again. “How do you deal with this every day, Mom?” he demanded. Another grounder came his way and he scooped it up, jiggling all the while. “You just get used to it. Plus, your mom’s got it goin’ on!” his mom cheered, trying out a flex that made her biceps look more like noodles. Josh could only shake his head. “Let’s just get through this game without any wardrobe malfunctions, please.” He snatched another grounder and flung it to first, the motion somewhat impeded by the unsettling new heaviness on his chest. --- **Left Field - Greg** Greg nearly missed a fly ball as he was distracted by the loud clinking of his mom’s bracelets. “Dang it!” he shouted as the ball thudded into his glove at the last second. “Mom, do you always wear this much bling?” “Of course, sweetheart!” his mom yelled from the fence, drawing attention to the gaudy bracelets adorning what was now Greg’s skinny, teenaged arms. “It’s fashionable!” “Fashionable for you, a distraction for me,” he muttered. Each movement felt different, with his mom’s generous hips making it near impossible to make sharp turns. Nonetheless, he gave a thumbs-up when he made the catch. “That’s my boy! Or... girl, or... well, you get the point!” his mom hollered. Greg just flushed a deep red. “Please don’t say that too loudly, Mom. This is embarrassing enough!” --- **Center Field - Sam** Sam fought back tears of frustration and amusement as his freshly done nails kept snagging on his glove. “This manicure is killing me,” he called to his friends, showing off the sparkly polish. “But damn, they are fabulous.” From the sidelines, his mom smiled proudly. “See, I told you! A good manicure can do wonders!” Sam sighed, shaking his head as he readied himself for another incoming ball. “I think my nails are more distracting for me than for the other team,” he muttered, instinctively tossing his hair over his shoulder. “Also, Mom, can you please tie this hair back? It’s like a damned curtain!” “Sure thing, sweetheart,” his mom began, “just remember—” Sam interrupted, already knowing the speech. “—to enjoy the moment. Got it, thanks, Mom.” --- **Right Field - Kevin** Kevin was halfway through a burp when he realized his mom’s more ladylike body made it sound utterly ridiculous. “This whole thing is bonkers,” he said as quietly as possible, hoping his mom didn’t hear. “Boobs, hair, nails—what’s next? Heels?” Nearby, his mom in his body was happily stretching his legs. “Glad you’re appreciating my style, honey. And remember, a little bounce won’t hurt you!” Kevin couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Wish you’d said that years ago, Mom! Being out here with these...,” he awkwardly gestured towards his chest, causing a fit of laughter from nearby players. “Hey Kevin, just tuck them in and focus on the game!” his friend Josh called from third base, trying not to crack up himself. “Yeah, yeah,” Kevin laughed, managing to catch a ball despite moving with the grace of a newborn giraffe. “I’ll get there eventually.” --- **At Bat - Mike** Mike swung the bat, missed, and momentarily grabbed his chest, an expression of utter shock on his face. “Ow, right in the boob!” he exclaimed, his voice a high-pitched echo of disbelief. The entire team erupted in laughter, the sound filling the field. “I mean, come on, Mike, it’s not every day you get to say that!” Tim yelled, enjoying the rare chance to give his best friend a friendly ribbing. Mike’s mom in his body was nearly in tears from laughing so hard. “Yeah, that can happen, dear. Welcome to my world!” “Thanks, Mom. This is all kinds of fun,” Mike said with heavy sarcasm, stepping back up to the plate. With a deep breath—a bit restricted due to his mom’s body being so different than his—he focused on the game. Nails, boobs, hips, hair, laughter—the whole day was an absurd interplay of body-swapping chaos. Yet somehow, in their busty new forms, the team managed to forge through with a new understanding and a lot of humor. Sure, they might have jiggled and tumbled their way through nine innings, but it was a game they’d never forget.
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