NuBody, New Life
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Title: NuBody, New Life
"Hey, Charlie," John began, his face mirroring the mockery his words held, "I must say, āCharlene,ā you're really warming up to those low-cut tops."
Clad in his tight-fitting uniform, Charlie glared at him across the bar, his fiery red curls falling into his new emerald eyes. "Watch it, John, or I'll smash this empty beer mug on your face."
John chuckled, raising both hands in surrender. "Alright, alright! Just saying, you know, ever since you...uh...switched, youāve been pulling in more tips than the entire bar staff could've combined."
Charlie rolled his eyes and began wiping down the counter. The new uniform barely contained his luscious curves and ample chest, causing every patron's eyes to linger just a touch too long. He once had a rugged jawline and a muscular physique that intimidated enemies and made women swoon. Now he had the body of a pinup model and was wearing a low-cut top to serve brews in a bar. It was rather infuriating, but admittedly, the tips were nice.
"Now, don't get me wrong," continued John, leaning in closer, a playful twinkle in his eye. "'Charlene' has some, uhh, great assets that 'Charlie' didn't. Get what I'm saying?"
Charlie shot him a death glare, causing John to burst into hearty laughter. "You're as smooth as sandpaper, my friend."
Just then, a customer with unruly hair and three-day-old stubble whistled at her. "Hey, Red! I could use a top-up."
Charlie begrudgingly stomped over the customer, batting his new long eyelashes with a level of annoyance that could kill. "Sure thing, sugar," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The new voice still felt strange, but he was beginning to get a knack for using it to his advantage.
As the night wore on, Charlie found himself gradually adapting to his new circumstances. The uniform suddenly didn't feel so binding, the bar felt less chaotic, and the ogling eyes were easier to ignore.
Even John complimented him, "You know what, āCharlene,ā you're managing alright. Figured you'd snap in half the first hour, but look at you. You've got this NuBody thing down."
Charlie let out a sigh, a slight flutter of contentment rising within him. "Yeah, well," he began, "I still miss the good ol' military days sometimes. But then I look at my tips jar and I'm alright. New Body, New Life, right?"
"Yeah," laughed John, "New Body, New Life indeed."
Charlie's story might've started in a military hospital, but it was being written in a cosy bar with patrons cheering and rowdy laughter filling the air. While it was far from his marine days, in a way, he was still serving his people. Plus, the low-cut tops were growing on him. It was bizarre, it was unexpected, and it was a little annoying, but Charlie realized he could adjust. After all, he once adapted to crawling through mud and rain in boot camp. This was not so different. It was just entire new battlefield altogether.
This story was generated by user zach3 with assistance by one of OpenAIās large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALLĀ·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
AI Prompts
Prompt: write a story with tons of dialogue where There was a new military program that people could sign up for called NuBody. If you were oversees and lost a limb or even your life, people were willing to donate there bodies. My buddy was placed in this program and swapped with a curvaceous and busty redheaded woman. I think heās a little annoyed about his swap right now instead of being a normal marine like he used to be he had the body of a regular military pinup girl. He was told he would have to build a new life for himself, now he's a waitress at a bar and has to wear low cut tops. He says its humiliating, but he is raking in the tips thanks to his new busty form.
Response: Title: NuBody, New Life "Hey, Charlie," John began, his face mirroring the mockery his words held, "I must say, āCharlene,ā you're really warming up to those low-cut tops." Clad in his tight-fitting uniform, Charlie glared at him across the bar, his fiery red curls falling into his new emerald eyes. "Watch it, John, or I'll smash this empty beer mug on your face." John chuckled, raising both hands in surrender. "Alright, alright! Just saying, you know, ever since you...uh...switched, youāve been pulling in more tips than the entire bar staff could've combined." Charlie rolled his eyes and began wiping down the counter. The new uniform barely contained his luscious curves and ample chest, causing every patron's eyes to linger just a touch too long. He once had a rugged jawline and a muscular physique that intimidated enemies and made women swoon. Now he had the body of a pinup model and was wearing a low-cut top to serve brews in a bar. It was rather infuriating, but admittedly, the tips were nice. "Now, don't get me wrong," continued John, leaning in closer, a playful twinkle in his eye. "'Charlene' has some, uhh, great assets that 'Charlie' didn't. Get what I'm saying?" Charlie shot him a death glare, causing John to burst into hearty laughter. "You're as smooth as sandpaper, my friend." Just then, a customer with unruly hair and three-day-old stubble whistled at her. "Hey, Red! I could use a top-up." Charlie begrudgingly stomped over the customer, batting his new long eyelashes with a level of annoyance that could kill. "Sure thing, sugar," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The new voice still felt strange, but he was beginning to get a knack for using it to his advantage. As the night wore on, Charlie found himself gradually adapting to his new circumstances. The uniform suddenly didn't feel so binding, the bar felt less chaotic, and the ogling eyes were easier to ignore. Even John complimented him, "You know what, āCharlene,ā you're managing alright. Figured you'd snap in half the first hour, but look at you. You've got this NuBody thing down." Charlie let out a sigh, a slight flutter of contentment rising within him. "Yeah, well," he began, "I still miss the good ol' military days sometimes. But then I look at my tips jar and I'm alright. New Body, New Life, right?" "Yeah," laughed John, "New Body, New Life indeed." Charlie's story might've started in a military hospital, but it was being written in a cosy bar with patrons cheering and rowdy laughter filling the air. While it was far from his marine days, in a way, he was still serving his people. Plus, the low-cut tops were growing on him. It was bizarre, it was unexpected, and it was a little annoying, but Charlie realized he could adjust. After all, he once adapted to crawling through mud and rain in boot camp. This was not so different. It was just entire new battlefield altogether.
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