"The Enigmatic Transfiguration of Connor and Linda"
0 Points
0
### The Transformation
In the summer of 2024, seven-year-old Connor dreaded and anticipated the day he would venture out alone. His birthday was July 14, 2017, so he had just turned seven last month. Connor stood at three feet ten inches and weighed fifty-five pounds. His messy brown hair fell into his sparkling blue eyes, and he always refused to cut it short. Today, he wore his favorite blue t-shirt with a picture of a rocket ship, dark jeans, and red sneakers—a birthday gift from his mom. His mom, Kelsey, had reluctantly agreed to let him walk to the local park by himself, a rite of passage she'd never dared when she was his age.
Connor clutched a small, worn-out rabbit's foot charm his mother had given him, a good-luck token passed down from her own childhood. His backpack jingled with coins and crinkled with bills—$20, many quarters, and a couple of single dollar bills—intended for snacks or maybe a little toy if he came across anything that caught his eye.
***
As he ambled toward the park with a wide smile, the shadows began to lengthen. A chill crept up his back, causing him to glance nervously behind him. He assured himself everything would be fine, gripping the rabbit's foot more tightly.
But he got lost.
The unfamiliar streets seemed to twist and turn until he found himself standing next to an old, abandoned lot, the night's darkness drawing close. He tugged at his charm frantically, feeling an unsettling panic rise in his chest.
Connor then saw a baffling sight: a pair of peculiar feminine platform flip-flops. They weren't pink but had a light purple color and came flat about five inches off the ground. His curiosity overcame his fear as he noticed a nearby purse packed with various feminine essentials. There was an ORCA card, an EBT card, and a driver's license displaying a woman’s face. Her name was Linda Hudson, 47 years old, born on March 5, 1971. She had no hair, strikingly blue eyes, and her stats read: height 5'10", weight 230 pounds. She was from Seattle and homeless.
Nearby, there was an incongruent blonde wig and an old walker, worn and rusted with time. The sight made Connor's stomach flip, but he tried to step back and avoid it all. Just then, he tripped over a small rock, sending his shoes, socks, backpack, and good-luck charm flying.
Connor stumbled into the platform flip-flops, and immediately, he felt an alien sensation. His feet started to crack and age. His smooth, young skin roughened, his nails painted a startling red polish appeared as the sandals fused to his feet. His foot muscles surged and retracted, and his toes lengthened, becoming more delicate yet sturdy. Connor screamed, "Mommy! I don’t wanna be a girl!"
His legs and torso began to swell and reshape, his once slim frame filling out with a distinctly feminine softness. His chest expanded, hormonal changes pushing it outward into unmistakable curves. His arms followed suit, thickening and becoming elegant with the same crimson nail polish decorating his fingers.
A jolt of confusion and memories crashed into his mind. He glanced at the walker and then the purse, with a sudden sense of recognition. Shaking his head vehemently, he sobbed, "No, I'm not a girl! I want Mommy!"
However, his features continued to morph. His voice softened, climbing higher, his hair shedding completely until he was bald. His clothes transformed—a skimpy, large dress adorned with glitter and sequins clothed his now unfamiliar body.
Finally, his mind surrendered to the changes. The memories of Linda Hudson flooded his consciousness, covering over his life as Connor like a wave. Suddenly, the woman blinked in confusion, her surroundings not making sense to her. She stumbled but caught hold of her trusted walker.
Shuffling, she picked up the wig, carefully adjusted it on her bare scalp with trembling hands. Linda then turned her walker around and settled into its seat, pulling her purse’s straps onto her lap. With effort, she stood upright, draped the purse over one handle of the walker, and shuffled away, stopping at a broken shard of a mirror.
In a weary, quivering voice, she muttered, “I so fucking hate being homeless and weighing 230 pounds... and being such an old and tired female. I've always had a homeless problem, but at least when I was young, at 22 years old, I was stronger. Now I’m 47 years old, and any man could harm me if he wanted to. Just relax, Linda, you’re 47 years old. You’ve been homeless for eight years. You know to always sleep near the alleyway and hide your walker behind the dumpster. I just wish I didn’t lose my beautiful long brown hair to stress. Glad I got this blonde-haired wig from behind the shelter and cleaned it up…”
Her reflection stared back at her, showing no sign of the little boy who had wandered out alone that early evening. Linda pushed her walker forward, disappearing into the darkness, leaving behind the haunted echoes of Connor's innocent steps.
This story was generated by user manemansteve 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: A story taking place in the year 2024 the way I write about 7 year old Connor going somewhere alone for the first time with permission from his 22 year old mom. Include his birthday, birth year, height, weight, hair color and style and eye color and what he's wearing shoes included and where he's going and why. Have him get lost on his way there as nightfall approaches and have him get nervous as he clutched his good luck charm his mom gave him and include in the story what the item is. Have him also have a backpack full of money from his mom to spend on whatever he wants as he came across a strange and weird site. Have him notice a pair of feminine looking platform flip flops with a description of the sandals not being pink and how high they came off the ground while still being flat and what they looked like and have there be a purse full of feminine essentials nearby and an ORCA card and EBT and driver's license with a woman's face on it and include the name of the woman, her age being 25+ years older than his mom, birthday, birth year being 25+ years before his mom, height, weight being very large, hair being none, eye color and where she's from and have her be homeless. Have him also spot a wig of blonde hair and a walker nearby that looks very old. Have him get confused and worried at the sight of the items and have him intend to avoid them when he trips over something causing his shoes and socks to fly off and his backpack to fly off and his good luck charm to fly away cause he dropped it and have him accidentally stumble into the platform flip flops. Have him immediately get disgusted at the girly sandals trying to get them off but be unable to as his feet immediately started cracking and aging and feminizing to fit the sandals with a nail polish color included on his toes and have his feet change slowly and detailed. Have him scream for his mommy and have it be in quoted text saying he didn't wanna be a girl. Have his legs and torso and chest change and feminize with a slow detailed description of him gaining weight as well. Have his arms and hands change and feminize with a slow detailed description of the same nail polish appearing on his fingers. Have a jolt go to his brain as he started looking at the walker and the purse wondering why he left them carelessly before shaking his head and saying no i'm not a girl i want mommy and have it be in quoted text. Have his head and face change and feminize with a slow detailed description of his voice changing and his hair falling out till he was bald and his outfit changing into something skimpy but large and feminine with a detailed description of the outfit. Have his memories start changing until he only remembered being the woman. Have the woman get confused and stumbly before noticing her walker and her wig and her purse. Have her shuffle to the walker grabbing hold of it slowly walking towards her wig and putting it back on with a slow detailed description of her doing so. Have her walk over to her purse turning the walker around and sitting down in it. Have her use her feet to lift the straps of her purse into her lap carefully standing up and putting her purse on one of the handles before shuffling down the road and stopping in front of a mirror. Have her look at herself in the mirror and say i so fucking hate being homeless and weighing ___ pounds and being such an old and ____ female i've always had a ____ problem but at least when i was __ years old i was stronger now i'm __ years old and any man could harm me if he wanted to just relax ___ you're __ years old you've been homeless for __ years you know to always sleep near the ____ and hide your walker behind the ____ i just wish i didn't lose my beautiful long ____ hair to _____ glad i got this blonde haired wig from behind the ____ in the ___ and cleaned it up and have it be in quoted text filling in the blanks referring to herself by the woman's name having no memory of who she used to be.
Response: ### The Transformation In the summer of 2024, seven-year-old Connor dreaded and anticipated the day he would venture out alone. His birthday was July 14, 2017, so he had just turned seven last month. Connor stood at three feet ten inches and weighed fifty-five pounds. His messy brown hair fell into his sparkling blue eyes, and he always refused to cut it short. Today, he wore his favorite blue t-shirt with a picture of a rocket ship, dark jeans, and red sneakers—a birthday gift from his mom. His mom, Kelsey, had reluctantly agreed to let him walk to the local park by himself, a rite of passage she'd never dared when she was his age. Connor clutched a small, worn-out rabbit's foot charm his mother had given him, a good-luck token passed down from her own childhood. His backpack jingled with coins and crinkled with bills—$20, many quarters, and a couple of single dollar bills—intended for snacks or maybe a little toy if he came across anything that caught his eye. *** As he ambled toward the park with a wide smile, the shadows began to lengthen. A chill crept up his back, causing him to glance nervously behind him. He assured himself everything would be fine, gripping the rabbit's foot more tightly. But he got lost. The unfamiliar streets seemed to twist and turn until he found himself standing next to an old, abandoned lot, the night's darkness drawing close. He tugged at his charm frantically, feeling an unsettling panic rise in his chest. Connor then saw a baffling sight: a pair of peculiar feminine platform flip-flops. They weren't pink but had a light purple color and came flat about five inches off the ground. His curiosity overcame his fear as he noticed a nearby purse packed with various feminine essentials. There was an ORCA card, an EBT card, and a driver's license displaying a woman’s face. Her name was Linda Hudson, 47 years old, born on March 5, 1971. She had no hair, strikingly blue eyes, and her stats read: height 5'10", weight 230 pounds. She was from Seattle and homeless. Nearby, there was an incongruent blonde wig and an old walker, worn and rusted with time. The sight made Connor's stomach flip, but he tried to step back and avoid it all. Just then, he tripped over a small rock, sending his shoes, socks, backpack, and good-luck charm flying. Connor stumbled into the platform flip-flops, and immediately, he felt an alien sensation. His feet started to crack and age. His smooth, young skin roughened, his nails painted a startling red polish appeared as the sandals fused to his feet. His foot muscles surged and retracted, and his toes lengthened, becoming more delicate yet sturdy. Connor screamed, "Mommy! I don’t wanna be a girl!" His legs and torso began to swell and reshape, his once slim frame filling out with a distinctly feminine softness. His chest expanded, hormonal changes pushing it outward into unmistakable curves. His arms followed suit, thickening and becoming elegant with the same crimson nail polish decorating his fingers. A jolt of confusion and memories crashed into his mind. He glanced at the walker and then the purse, with a sudden sense of recognition. Shaking his head vehemently, he sobbed, "No, I'm not a girl! I want Mommy!" However, his features continued to morph. His voice softened, climbing higher, his hair shedding completely until he was bald. His clothes transformed—a skimpy, large dress adorned with glitter and sequins clothed his now unfamiliar body. Finally, his mind surrendered to the changes. The memories of Linda Hudson flooded his consciousness, covering over his life as Connor like a wave. Suddenly, the woman blinked in confusion, her surroundings not making sense to her. She stumbled but caught hold of her trusted walker. Shuffling, she picked up the wig, carefully adjusted it on her bare scalp with trembling hands. Linda then turned her walker around and settled into its seat, pulling her purse’s straps onto her lap. With effort, she stood upright, draped the purse over one handle of the walker, and shuffled away, stopping at a broken shard of a mirror. In a weary, quivering voice, she muttered, “I so fucking hate being homeless and weighing 230 pounds... and being such an old and tired female. I've always had a homeless problem, but at least when I was young, at 22 years old, I was stronger. Now I’m 47 years old, and any man could harm me if he wanted to. Just relax, Linda, you’re 47 years old. You’ve been homeless for eight years. You know to always sleep near the alleyway and hide your walker behind the dumpster. I just wish I didn’t lose my beautiful long brown hair to stress. Glad I got this blonde-haired wig from behind the shelter and cleaned it up…” Her reflection stared back at her, showing no sign of the little boy who had wandered out alone that early evening. Linda pushed her walker forward, disappearing into the darkness, leaving behind the haunted echoes of Connor's innocent steps.
Post your own comment: