Swingin' Shift
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Title: Swingin' Shift
It was one of those high-spirited games, sweat pouring down as we stood under the sweltering sun with our mitts cloaked in at least half an acre of dust. Your typical summer baseball game, except for one minor curve...ahem, curveball. Meet the MVP of the Bulldogs, a 6'2" rugged third baseman with the looks of our mom and a killer swing. Yup, you got it right. My big brother, five years my senior, had just hit another run, just in time to get 'mom' home.
"Man, Shaniqua sure has some legs," hollered Tommy, a friend from high school, aiming his remarks at my brother.
"You've got mom's name wrong, dude. It's Shannon," My brother complained, about the hundredth time that day while rolling his eyes at yet another nickname.
"Oh, right. Sorry, Shannon," Tommy laughed, altering his pitch to mimic a fancy hair flip that curvy Shannon never does.
It started when the 'Great Shift' occurred, sending chaos into our lives. Half the population woke up in a different body. Thankfully or not, my brother woke up in our mother's buxom body. My brother, staunch and practical, decided he would make mom's body work for his passion, baseball.
"Yo, bro, maybe you want to ease up on the power swing. Your Bulldogs jersey looks like it's about to pop a button," I teased him, pointing at his rotund chest warping the fabric of his favorite baseball apparel.
"I'm trying alright?," he muttered, readjusting the cap on his head. "Still fitting those voluptuous... elements."
Of course, adapting to the situation wasn't about baseball alone. His heavy-set attributes brought an unforeseen set of challenges - from finding pants that fit over mom's wide hips to understanding the complex system of female undergarments.
"Next time, use a sports bra," advised Brittany, his ex-girlfriend, who apparently took up the role of our mother's fashion guru.
"Oi, any more advice, fashionista?" My brother shot back, shaking his head in disbelief.
Once, during the match, a straight pitch hit him square on the chest. And boy, did the stadium erupt into laughter, even as he huffed in pain.
"First time getting hit on the boob, eh Shannon?," I chuckled, biting my lip trying not to laugh out harder.
"You try it, then!," snapped 'mom', his face turning scarlet. And to everyone's amazement, he just muttered, "Damn, I didn't know they were sensitive."
Over time, he somehow had taken these changes in stride. He played his heart out, and honestly, I admired him. Who else could handle the shift, keep a sense of humor, and still make coed baseball season such a blast?
"Mom's the MVP!," an old teammate declared, lifting my brother on their shoulders. Mom was, indeed, taking us to victory. Despite her…extravagant proportions.
Moral of the story? Don't let anything come in your way - not even a pair of DDs. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta run. I see Shaniqua heading towards the concession stand. Probably to shred through a pack of hot dogs, proving once again that inside, he is still my big brother.
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 a lot of dialogue where Me and my brother loved baseball. We both played together growing up. We was a far better player than me and he was probably going to get drafted to the pros after college. That was before the great shift which was an occurrence that swapped 50 percent of thew populations bodies came and swapped him into our mother’s curvy and busty body. Obviously he was pretty bummed out at first but my brother has always taken things in stride. He decided to workout mom’s body and get her ready for Coed baseball season where he played with some of his friends from high school they liked to tease him and make nicknames about his new body but he was having fun and still was the best player in the team even with the two large hindrances on his chest. One time he even got it by a pitch on the boob which caused me and all his buddies to laugh. I didn’t know mom was in such good shape. He did struggle to adjust to moms new breasts but over time he grow to get used to them but his usual BullDogs font across his jersey was warped by moms chestiness. He also struggled to find pants to fit over my curvy ass and wipe hips.
Response: Title: Swingin' Shift It was one of those high-spirited games, sweat pouring down as we stood under the sweltering sun with our mitts cloaked in at least half an acre of dust. Your typical summer baseball game, except for one minor curve...ahem, curveball. Meet the MVP of the Bulldogs, a 6'2" rugged third baseman with the looks of our mom and a killer swing. Yup, you got it right. My big brother, five years my senior, had just hit another run, just in time to get 'mom' home. "Man, Shaniqua sure has some legs," hollered Tommy, a friend from high school, aiming his remarks at my brother. "You've got mom's name wrong, dude. It's Shannon," My brother complained, about the hundredth time that day while rolling his eyes at yet another nickname. "Oh, right. Sorry, Shannon," Tommy laughed, altering his pitch to mimic a fancy hair flip that curvy Shannon never does. It started when the 'Great Shift' occurred, sending chaos into our lives. Half the population woke up in a different body. Thankfully or not, my brother woke up in our mother's buxom body. My brother, staunch and practical, decided he would make mom's body work for his passion, baseball. "Yo, bro, maybe you want to ease up on the power swing. Your Bulldogs jersey looks like it's about to pop a button," I teased him, pointing at his rotund chest warping the fabric of his favorite baseball apparel. "I'm trying alright?," he muttered, readjusting the cap on his head. "Still fitting those voluptuous... elements." Of course, adapting to the situation wasn't about baseball alone. His heavy-set attributes brought an unforeseen set of challenges - from finding pants that fit over mom's wide hips to understanding the complex system of female undergarments. "Next time, use a sports bra," advised Brittany, his ex-girlfriend, who apparently took up the role of our mother's fashion guru. "Oi, any more advice, fashionista?" My brother shot back, shaking his head in disbelief. Once, during the match, a straight pitch hit him square on the chest. And boy, did the stadium erupt into laughter, even as he huffed in pain. "First time getting hit on the boob, eh Shannon?," I chuckled, biting my lip trying not to laugh out harder. "You try it, then!," snapped 'mom', his face turning scarlet. And to everyone's amazement, he just muttered, "Damn, I didn't know they were sensitive." Over time, he somehow had taken these changes in stride. He played his heart out, and honestly, I admired him. Who else could handle the shift, keep a sense of humor, and still make coed baseball season such a blast? "Mom's the MVP!," an old teammate declared, lifting my brother on their shoulders. Mom was, indeed, taking us to victory. Despite her…extravagant proportions. Moral of the story? Don't let anything come in your way - not even a pair of DDs. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta run. I see Shaniqua heading towards the concession stand. Probably to shred through a pack of hot dogs, proving once again that inside, he is still my big brother.
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