Operation NuBody - A Military Turnover
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Title: Operation NuBody - A Military Turnover
"That's one whiskey on the rocks, coming right up!" bellowed Bruce, once a hardcore marine, now a buxom barmaid. His, or rather, her, hair was the deepest shade of auburn sunset, contrasting vividly with his new pale, freckled skin. His eyes, previously hunter green, were now a striking hazel. Though his face still bore features reminiscent of his former self - a strong jawline and pronounced brow - they were softened and feminized by his new occupant.
"Ooh, sweetheart, could you lean a bit more? I can't hear you real clear," a patron at the counter beckoned, winking at Bruce.
"I already told you Shelton, my name is Bruce, not sweetheart. Remember?" Bruce shot back, his now melodious voice tinged with annoyance.
"Oh right, Bruce!" laughed Shelton, throwing his head back and downing his beer.
Bruce was part of an experimental military program aptly named NuBody. Accidentally losing his arm during an overseas mission, he'd traded his burly marine physique for the curvy avatar of a cheerful redhead named Lucy, whose body was donated post-mortem.
"Ah, don't you miss the old days?" mused Tim, Bruceās old war comrade, leaning over the counter. "Back when we hauled around firearms, not beverage trays?"
Bruce rolled his eyes, adjusting the strap of his low-cut top. "Why, I feel like I'm right back to my deployment days - fending off enemy advances and all."
Tim chuckled, but noticed Bruce did seem a little harassed. "You okay, buddy?"
Bruce sighed, throwing a fake smile at another customer before turning to Tim. "Honestly, it's embarrassing. Every time I lean over, there's this... jiggling. And these heels? An absolute torment."
"I bet, but hey, the tips must be pouring in huh?" Tim smirked.
"Speaking of tips, trust me, even after toe-curling combat experiences, the sheer terror of running to my car at night alone as a woman is unmatchable," Bruce added.
Tim burst into laughter. "That's one battle report I'd love to hear, soldier!"
Bruce couldn't resist a small chuckle. "Sometimes, I need to remind myself. I signed up for it. NuBody wasn't just about a new body. It's about adapting, finding a new life. Lucy, God bless her soul, did her part. I'll do mine."
"That's the spirit, or should I say 'spunk', marine. But next time, maybe just donate an arm or a kidney?" Tim winked as Bruce poured another whiskey on the rocks, the both of them dissolving into laughter, the echoes of their old camaraderie ringing extraordinary in their new, odd reality.
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: Operation NuBody - A Military Turnover "That's one whiskey on the rocks, coming right up!" bellowed Bruce, once a hardcore marine, now a buxom barmaid. His, or rather, her, hair was the deepest shade of auburn sunset, contrasting vividly with his new pale, freckled skin. His eyes, previously hunter green, were now a striking hazel. Though his face still bore features reminiscent of his former self - a strong jawline and pronounced brow - they were softened and feminized by his new occupant. "Ooh, sweetheart, could you lean a bit more? I can't hear you real clear," a patron at the counter beckoned, winking at Bruce. "I already told you Shelton, my name is Bruce, not sweetheart. Remember?" Bruce shot back, his now melodious voice tinged with annoyance. "Oh right, Bruce!" laughed Shelton, throwing his head back and downing his beer. Bruce was part of an experimental military program aptly named NuBody. Accidentally losing his arm during an overseas mission, he'd traded his burly marine physique for the curvy avatar of a cheerful redhead named Lucy, whose body was donated post-mortem. "Ah, don't you miss the old days?" mused Tim, Bruceās old war comrade, leaning over the counter. "Back when we hauled around firearms, not beverage trays?" Bruce rolled his eyes, adjusting the strap of his low-cut top. "Why, I feel like I'm right back to my deployment days - fending off enemy advances and all." Tim chuckled, but noticed Bruce did seem a little harassed. "You okay, buddy?" Bruce sighed, throwing a fake smile at another customer before turning to Tim. "Honestly, it's embarrassing. Every time I lean over, there's this... jiggling. And these heels? An absolute torment." "I bet, but hey, the tips must be pouring in huh?" Tim smirked. "Speaking of tips, trust me, even after toe-curling combat experiences, the sheer terror of running to my car at night alone as a woman is unmatchable," Bruce added. Tim burst into laughter. "That's one battle report I'd love to hear, soldier!" Bruce couldn't resist a small chuckle. "Sometimes, I need to remind myself. I signed up for it. NuBody wasn't just about a new body. It's about adapting, finding a new life. Lucy, God bless her soul, did her part. I'll do mine." "That's the spirit, or should I say 'spunk', marine. But next time, maybe just donate an arm or a kidney?" Tim winked as Bruce poured another whiskey on the rocks, the both of them dissolving into laughter, the echoes of their old camaraderie ringing extraordinary in their new, odd reality.
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