"Frat Boy in My Wife's Body: A Comedy of Curves and Karaoke"
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It was a year and a half into our marriage when the Great Shift happened. One moment, my wife, Lila, was grumbling about spilled coffee on her green low-cut top and the next, she was staring at her own reflection in bewilderment, with an alien, frat-boy grin plastered on her face.
Lila—or, more accurately, Brad, a local frat boy from the college nearby—kept adjusting the neckline of the green top, letting out a cackle every time her new chest made an appearance. "Dude, check out these bad boys! Talk about S tier racks!"
"Brad, focus," I sighed, massaging my temples. "You're in my wife's body now. You can't just—"
"Aw, c’mon Mike! Lighten up!" Brad giggled, bouncing his—no, Lila's—chest up and down while winking at his reflection in the microwave.
I knew then and there this wasn't going to be an easy transition. "Listen, how about this? I get it, you're 21, you want to have fun. So, Fridays and Saturdays—you party. But the rest of the week, you have to go to work and, uh, attempt to be the most loving wife you can be. Deal?"
Brad pondered this, still gazing affectionately at his new curves. "Deal," he finally said, giving me a thumbs-up. "But, uh, you ever been to a college party, Mike?"
"Not really my thing—"
"Well, you're coming to one this weekend!"
As Friday rolled around, I found myself entering a fraternity house, flashing back to my glory days, though I certainly didn't remember them being this chaotic. Brad, clad in one of Lila's skimpier black dresses, was the center of attention.
"Mike, these people are my boys! Meet Jeff, Chad, and Rick. Oh, and this is Jessica," Brad said, pointing to a girl who was ogling him in a mix of confusion and intrigue. "Who's got A tier, but c'mon, these bad boys are S tier!"
"Right," I managed, shaking hands and sidestepping other partygoers playing a very intense game of keg stands.
Next thing I knew, Brad and I were crushing it at beer pong, using his newfound assets for maximum distraction. The frat boys hooted and hollered as cups rapidly disappeared from the table.
"Okay! Karaoke time!" Brad announced with fervor.
We made our way to the karaoke machine, and Brad handed me the mic. We'd agreed to perform a classic, "I Got You Babe." With his new soprano voice, Brad hit every note. "I got you to hold my hand..." He sang, a little awkwardly, "I got you to understand!" The crowd went wild.
Feeling emboldened, Brad decided to go solo with a Marilyn Monroe number, trying to lower his voice in a sultry manner but still sounding like a chipmunk imitating seduction. The crowd was loving it.
Then came the bikini contest. Brad, in a scandalous black bikini, took the stage. His frat bros lost their minds, almost tumbling over each other in excitement.
"Vote for me, boys! The best rack deserves the win!" He winked, causing an uproar louder than the music blaring from the speakers.
“You know,” I thought to myself as Brad strutted back toward me, one hand theatrically blowing kisses at the audience, “I might actually be enjoying this bizarre new life.”
"How you doin', Mike?" Brad teased, posing dramatically.
"Better than I thought," I replied, raising my beer in a toast.
And as Brad hurried off to accept his first-place prize, I realized that for better or worse, adaptability was going to be our greatest asset in this crazed new world.
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 the great shift which was a strange event that swapped 75% of the countries bodies happens. Me and my wife had just been married over a year when it happened we met each other at work at the office. I fell in love immediately when I saw her in her green low cut top and black pencil skirt showcasing her busty chest and curvy ass. Well when the shift happened lets just say my wife's elegance took a backseat. She had swapped with a local frat boy from the college nearby. He loves to feel up and bounce his new chest up and down while he talks about some girl at colleges chest and how her rack is A tier, but his new rack is S tier and how he has the best rack ever now. Any time he walks by a mirror or a thing where he can see his reflection he checks out his body winks and says how you doin' He still wants to go back to his frat house to play beer pong and have kegs. I'm not sure what to do, I want my wife to keep her elegance but to be fair to this kid in her body he is only 21 and wants to have a fun college experience. I told him that Friday and Saturday he can go party but every other day he has got to go to work as her and come home and be the most loving wife he can be. Thank god he agreed. I was shocked when he invited me to one of his college parties, I guess I got him to actually like me. The party was crazy, we played some beer pong and destroyed everybody by using his new body as distractions. He even wanted to sing a duet on the karaoke machine realizing he can hit the high notes now of course after our duet he sang a sexy song trying to lower his voice as much as possible but with my wife's voice it wasn't super deep. Also, there was the bikini contest which usually was his favorite to watch but now he joined wearing a skimpy black bikini that drove his frat boys mad. I think I'm kind of enjoying this new life.
Response: It was a year and a half into our marriage when the Great Shift happened. One moment, my wife, Lila, was grumbling about spilled coffee on her green low-cut top and the next, she was staring at her own reflection in bewilderment, with an alien, frat-boy grin plastered on her face. Lila—or, more accurately, Brad, a local frat boy from the college nearby—kept adjusting the neckline of the green top, letting out a cackle every time her new chest made an appearance. "Dude, check out these bad boys! Talk about S tier racks!" "Brad, focus," I sighed, massaging my temples. "You're in my wife's body now. You can't just—" "Aw, c’mon Mike! Lighten up!" Brad giggled, bouncing his—no, Lila's—chest up and down while winking at his reflection in the microwave. I knew then and there this wasn't going to be an easy transition. "Listen, how about this? I get it, you're 21, you want to have fun. So, Fridays and Saturdays—you party. But the rest of the week, you have to go to work and, uh, attempt to be the most loving wife you can be. Deal?" Brad pondered this, still gazing affectionately at his new curves. "Deal," he finally said, giving me a thumbs-up. "But, uh, you ever been to a college party, Mike?" "Not really my thing—" "Well, you're coming to one this weekend!" As Friday rolled around, I found myself entering a fraternity house, flashing back to my glory days, though I certainly didn't remember them being this chaotic. Brad, clad in one of Lila's skimpier black dresses, was the center of attention. "Mike, these people are my boys! Meet Jeff, Chad, and Rick. Oh, and this is Jessica," Brad said, pointing to a girl who was ogling him in a mix of confusion and intrigue. "Who's got A tier, but c'mon, these bad boys are S tier!" "Right," I managed, shaking hands and sidestepping other partygoers playing a very intense game of keg stands. Next thing I knew, Brad and I were crushing it at beer pong, using his newfound assets for maximum distraction. The frat boys hooted and hollered as cups rapidly disappeared from the table. "Okay! Karaoke time!" Brad announced with fervor. We made our way to the karaoke machine, and Brad handed me the mic. We'd agreed to perform a classic, "I Got You Babe." With his new soprano voice, Brad hit every note. "I got you to hold my hand..." He sang, a little awkwardly, "I got you to understand!" The crowd went wild. Feeling emboldened, Brad decided to go solo with a Marilyn Monroe number, trying to lower his voice in a sultry manner but still sounding like a chipmunk imitating seduction. The crowd was loving it. Then came the bikini contest. Brad, in a scandalous black bikini, took the stage. His frat bros lost their minds, almost tumbling over each other in excitement. "Vote for me, boys! The best rack deserves the win!" He winked, causing an uproar louder than the music blaring from the speakers. “You know,” I thought to myself as Brad strutted back toward me, one hand theatrically blowing kisses at the audience, “I might actually be enjoying this bizarre new life.” "How you doin', Mike?" Brad teased, posing dramatically. "Better than I thought," I replied, raising my beer in a toast. And as Brad hurried off to accept his first-place prize, I realized that for better or worse, adaptability was going to be our greatest asset in this crazed new world.
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