Switched Shield
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Title: Switched Shield
Patricia McKenna found herself standing before the long narrow mirror, tugging nervously at the uncomfortable, yet tailored navy blue uniform. The fresh badges clinging to her chest reflected the tired fluorescent light of the locker room. This wasn't how it had been before, she thought. Amid her thoughts, confusion swirled like a bitter storm. Although the setting was familiar to Pat, the reality she was thrust into was not. She was a police officer alright - she knew that much. But she was not Patrick.
The locker room was filled with the fragrant scent of lilac, replacing the familiar musky aroma that Pat was used to. Women chatted and laughed nearby while adjusting their uniform skirts. Pat dragged her gloved hand over her scalp out of instinct, only to get tangled into a cascade of glossy brown hair – her hair. Pat blinked in surprise, the rush of memories hit her like a freight truck.
Everyone knew her as Patricia, the smart, resilient woman cop of the neighborhood. She could barely remember being Patrick but she knew she used to be him. Frantically, she tried to recall the masculine syllables of her previous name but it slipped away each time, replaced by the soft, feminine 'Patricia'.
Staring at her reflection, she saw a woman of determination; eyebrows arched sharply, eyes bold, and lips pursed firmly. The uniform was a kind of armor, perhaps a bit more feminine than conventional, but nonetheless imposing. A navy-blue cap with a badge upfront matched her A-line skirt, pressing just above her knees. She wore black opaque tights and polished low-heeled black boots, strut around her hips professional, somewhat majestic.
Her world had been flipped by some mysterious cosmic force. Patrick loved women. Yet now, being Patricia, every time she caught the scent of a man, her heart raced uncontrollably. She tried to shake it off, tried to recall the soft curves of her former lovers, the feminine allure that used to stir something within her. But the memory eluded her, replaced by the strong jawline, scruffy beard, and cologne.
An unexpected torrent of thoughts welled up within her—one side compelling her to yield to this newfound attraction to men, and the other struggling to resist it. She was frantic, desperate to cling to the echoes of her past. But no one seemed to believe her, let alone understand. A reality she alone was privy to, locked away in her mind, and a reality intertwining itself in her newfound existence as Patricia the female cop.
She couldn't tell anyone about her transformation. Each time she opened her mouth to share her predicament, the words vanished, like mist that faded with morning sun. As time dragged on, Patricia realized there was more to her than just her past. She had an overwhelming task ahead of her: to understand herself and navigate through this strange torrent of change. Patrick might be a thing of the past, but Patricia was ready to step forward to maintain the law, no matter the complexity of the strands that bound her reality.
This story was generated by user trooboe3959 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: young cop turned male to female. reality change everyone except for the former man remembers and thinks he was always a female officer. shows the difference with female officers. describes the female cop uniform. unable to say his former name or use male pronouns. with now long hair. sexual orientation changes from woman to now only being attracted to men tries to resist this but is not able to as she tries to remember what she found attractive about woman but is not able to and she becomes frantic trying in vain to prove her attraction to woman. still remembers she used to be a man but is not able to share that with anyone or say her old male name despite her best efforts
Response: Title: Switched Shield Patricia McKenna found herself standing before the long narrow mirror, tugging nervously at the uncomfortable, yet tailored navy blue uniform. The fresh badges clinging to her chest reflected the tired fluorescent light of the locker room. This wasn't how it had been before, she thought. Amid her thoughts, confusion swirled like a bitter storm. Although the setting was familiar to Pat, the reality she was thrust into was not. She was a police officer alright - she knew that much. But she was not Patrick. The locker room was filled with the fragrant scent of lilac, replacing the familiar musky aroma that Pat was used to. Women chatted and laughed nearby while adjusting their uniform skirts. Pat dragged her gloved hand over her scalp out of instinct, only to get tangled into a cascade of glossy brown hair – her hair. Pat blinked in surprise, the rush of memories hit her like a freight truck. Everyone knew her as Patricia, the smart, resilient woman cop of the neighborhood. She could barely remember being Patrick but she knew she used to be him. Frantically, she tried to recall the masculine syllables of her previous name but it slipped away each time, replaced by the soft, feminine 'Patricia'. Staring at her reflection, she saw a woman of determination; eyebrows arched sharply, eyes bold, and lips pursed firmly. The uniform was a kind of armor, perhaps a bit more feminine than conventional, but nonetheless imposing. A navy-blue cap with a badge upfront matched her A-line skirt, pressing just above her knees. She wore black opaque tights and polished low-heeled black boots, strut around her hips professional, somewhat majestic. Her world had been flipped by some mysterious cosmic force. Patrick loved women. Yet now, being Patricia, every time she caught the scent of a man, her heart raced uncontrollably. She tried to shake it off, tried to recall the soft curves of her former lovers, the feminine allure that used to stir something within her. But the memory eluded her, replaced by the strong jawline, scruffy beard, and cologne. An unexpected torrent of thoughts welled up within her—one side compelling her to yield to this newfound attraction to men, and the other struggling to resist it. She was frantic, desperate to cling to the echoes of her past. But no one seemed to believe her, let alone understand. A reality she alone was privy to, locked away in her mind, and a reality intertwining itself in her newfound existence as Patricia the female cop. She couldn't tell anyone about her transformation. Each time she opened her mouth to share her predicament, the words vanished, like mist that faded with morning sun. As time dragged on, Patricia realized there was more to her than just her past. She had an overwhelming task ahead of her: to understand herself and navigate through this strange torrent of change. Patrick might be a thing of the past, but Patricia was ready to step forward to maintain the law, no matter the complexity of the strands that bound her reality.
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