Mix-Up Makeshift Mistress
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Title: Mix-Up Makeshift Mistress
Don’t get me wrong, I’m no potion geek, but when Harry, my best bud since kindergarten, came barging to me one day with a wacky idea, I couldn't resist. Harry chuckled, “Mate, wouldn't it be hysterical to try one of those fancy transformation potions?”
For the uninformed, these potions had been flooding our local markets like a tsunami of curiosity. You just had to secure a hair strand from whoever you wanted to transform into. It was crazy, uncanny, and utterly entertaining – so we thought.
“What an excellent prank, becoming your spitting image!” Harry exclaimed, guffawing like he'd just won the lottery.
So, I got the potion and nonchalantly swiped the first strand that fell into my hands. In hindsight, a more careful selection was warranted; but at that moment, I was consumed by a contagious excitement and the urge to see the results quickly.
Harry gulped the potion with the strand, and then the magic unfolded. Harry's burly physique started changing, bulges appeared in unexpected places, narrowing down at the places you'd expect to expand. The transformation was complete in a matter of minutes, and the image of my wife stood in front of me - same flaming red hair, large boobs, wide hips, and a well-rounded butt. I felt like I was falling into some bizarre rabbit hole without an exit!
I stood there, stupefied by the uncanny resemblance. Harry, or should I say Harrietta now, had an equally shocked expression, before it morphed into mischief.
“Mate, I must admit, you’ve got great taste! These babies,” he gestured at my wife's well-endowed chest, “they’re fantastic!”
He was too busy exploring the new topography of his body. I rolled my eyes, trying not to imagine how in the world I would explain this to my dear wife.
Suddenly, a ludicrous thought crossed my mind, maybe I'll ask him to do the cooking and cleaning. A wry smile formed on my lips; after all, isn't laughter the best potion in life? Perhaps I would soon witness how Harry could become the 'perfect wife'.
Despite the initial shock, I joined Harry in his naughty laughter but made a mental note to myself for the next time – Always confirm your hair strand's origin, especially when dealing with transformation potions!
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: The new transformation potions were one of the go to test things in the market. My friend wanted to try one so I bought one for him. All you have to do is get a hair strand from the person want to transform into. We both thought it would be funny for him to transform into me. Apparently I grabbed the wrong hair strand because when his transformation was complete he was an exact copy of my wife. He had her large boobs and her wide hips and big butt along with her long red hair. I can't believe this happened. Hopefully at some point he'll stop fondling himself, who knows maybe he will make the perfect wife.
Response: Title: Mix-Up Makeshift Mistress Don’t get me wrong, I’m no potion geek, but when Harry, my best bud since kindergarten, came barging to me one day with a wacky idea, I couldn't resist. Harry chuckled, “Mate, wouldn't it be hysterical to try one of those fancy transformation potions?” For the uninformed, these potions had been flooding our local markets like a tsunami of curiosity. You just had to secure a hair strand from whoever you wanted to transform into. It was crazy, uncanny, and utterly entertaining – so we thought. “What an excellent prank, becoming your spitting image!” Harry exclaimed, guffawing like he'd just won the lottery. So, I got the potion and nonchalantly swiped the first strand that fell into my hands. In hindsight, a more careful selection was warranted; but at that moment, I was consumed by a contagious excitement and the urge to see the results quickly. Harry gulped the potion with the strand, and then the magic unfolded. Harry's burly physique started changing, bulges appeared in unexpected places, narrowing down at the places you'd expect to expand. The transformation was complete in a matter of minutes, and the image of my wife stood in front of me - same flaming red hair, large boobs, wide hips, and a well-rounded butt. I felt like I was falling into some bizarre rabbit hole without an exit! I stood there, stupefied by the uncanny resemblance. Harry, or should I say Harrietta now, had an equally shocked expression, before it morphed into mischief. “Mate, I must admit, you’ve got great taste! These babies,” he gestured at my wife's well-endowed chest, “they’re fantastic!” He was too busy exploring the new topography of his body. I rolled my eyes, trying not to imagine how in the world I would explain this to my dear wife. Suddenly, a ludicrous thought crossed my mind, maybe I'll ask him to do the cooking and cleaning. A wry smile formed on my lips; after all, isn't laughter the best potion in life? Perhaps I would soon witness how Harry could become the 'perfect wife'. Despite the initial shock, I joined Harry in his naughty laughter but made a mental note to myself for the next time – Always confirm your hair strand's origin, especially when dealing with transformation potions!
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