"The Fem Virus Chronicles: Adventures in Quarantine and Bikinis"
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When I first got the email from the CDC explaining that I'd tested positive for The Fem Virus, I laughed so hard I almost spilled my coffee. A virus that only affects men and turns them into women? It sounded like a plot for a cheap sci-fi movie. But sure enough, after a day of feeling unusually warm and having an inexplicable craving for chocolate, I woke up as, well, a woman. And not just any woman—a busty, curvy redheaded MILF straight out of my buddy's dream.
Two weeks of quarantine later, I was going stir-crazy and needed some vitamin sea. As if on cue, my BFF John showed up to check on me.
Knock, knock.
"Dude, thank God you're here!" I yelled as I opened the door, shaking my shiny red locks and doing my best not to feel ridiculous in my sexy new bikini. "Are you ready to head out or what?"
John's eyes almost popped out of his skull. "Wh-what? Mike?!"
"Yeah, it's me," I said, striking a pose and laughing as he tried to reconcile my new, curvaceous form with my old identity. "Here, check out my ID."
I handed him my license. The photo was of my new female self, but the name still read "Michael Davis." John burst out laughing.
"This is hilarious! Did you really not change your name?"
"Nah, why bother? You try explaining to the DMV that you got turned into a chick by a virus."
After a struggle involving seat adjustments, airbags, and seatbelts that seemed designed to torment me, we were off. John couldn't stop cracking jokes about my new short stature and bouncier assets.
"So, can I still call you Mike?" he teased as I fumbled with the rearview mirror.
"You better," I retorted, "or I'll take this car ride as a chance to practice my high kicks. These legs are surprisingly flexible."
We arrived at the beach, and boy, volleyball has never been more challenging. My new assets seemed determined to get in the way, moving faster than I could keep up with. But after picking my bikini bottoms out of my crack for the fifth time, I was getting the hang of it.
"Remember that time in college when we snuck into the girl's locker room?" John laughed, snapping me out of my concentration.
"You kidding?" I smirked, "I'd have a way better excuse now!"
We collapsed on the sand, roasting in the sun and sipping on cold beers, feeling like it was old times—if old times involved one of us gossiping about bra shopping.
"You know," John said, grinning, "College would've been so much crazier if you were a girl back then."
"Hah, right? Imagine the pranks I could pull with this look," I said, shaking my now luxurious red hair. "Or how about this?" I turned to some guys playing football and gave them a flirty wave. Their jaws collectively dropped.
"Well, at least you’ve still got game," John said, taking a long swig of his beer.
"Got to keep things balanced," I replied, shrugging with a grin. "New body, same old me. Just with more curves and considerably better hair."
It was a bizarre day, to say the least, but it felt good to laugh about it. Turns out, catching the Fem Virus didn't change who I was. It just gave John and me another crazy story to tell—one that will probably go down as our best yet.
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 dialogue where The Fem Virus was very contagious and only affected men. It would change their genders and make them women. When my friend caught it he had to stay in quarantine for two weeks. Finally I was able to visit him, he sis’s he wanted to head to the beach for some fresh air. So I went up to his front door and knocked on it. When the door swung open a saw a Busty and Curvy redheaded MILF in a sexy looking bikini strut over and look at me with a smile. “Dude thank god you’re here, are you ready to head out or what.” The MILF says to me. I was confused at first but I found out that the MILF in front of me was my best friend who had gotten the MILF variant of the Fem Virus. He shows me his new ID which is hilarious because even though he now is a chick he still goes by his guy name so the photo of his pretty face on the ID doesn't match his name. He says he wants to drive because he had been cooped up in his house for so long. Of course it takes him some time to adjust the seat to his new far shorter body and he can't find a comfy way to wear his seatbelt. At the beach my friend and I played some beach volleyball of course my friend struggle with the bounce of his new tits and ass but soon began to catch on but kept having to pick his bikini bottoms from his crack. We had a few drinks and reminisced on our old college days laughing about much more fun they'd be if he was a girl back then as well Write the story from the friend who caught the virus perspective.
Response: When I first got the email from the CDC explaining that I'd tested positive for The Fem Virus, I laughed so hard I almost spilled my coffee. A virus that only affects men and turns them into women? It sounded like a plot for a cheap sci-fi movie. But sure enough, after a day of feeling unusually warm and having an inexplicable craving for chocolate, I woke up as, well, a woman. And not just any woman—a busty, curvy redheaded MILF straight out of my buddy's dream. Two weeks of quarantine later, I was going stir-crazy and needed some vitamin sea. As if on cue, my BFF John showed up to check on me. Knock, knock. "Dude, thank God you're here!" I yelled as I opened the door, shaking my shiny red locks and doing my best not to feel ridiculous in my sexy new bikini. "Are you ready to head out or what?" John's eyes almost popped out of his skull. "Wh-what? Mike?!" "Yeah, it's me," I said, striking a pose and laughing as he tried to reconcile my new, curvaceous form with my old identity. "Here, check out my ID." I handed him my license. The photo was of my new female self, but the name still read "Michael Davis." John burst out laughing. "This is hilarious! Did you really not change your name?" "Nah, why bother? You try explaining to the DMV that you got turned into a chick by a virus." After a struggle involving seat adjustments, airbags, and seatbelts that seemed designed to torment me, we were off. John couldn't stop cracking jokes about my new short stature and bouncier assets. "So, can I still call you Mike?" he teased as I fumbled with the rearview mirror. "You better," I retorted, "or I'll take this car ride as a chance to practice my high kicks. These legs are surprisingly flexible." We arrived at the beach, and boy, volleyball has never been more challenging. My new assets seemed determined to get in the way, moving faster than I could keep up with. But after picking my bikini bottoms out of my crack for the fifth time, I was getting the hang of it. "Remember that time in college when we snuck into the girl's locker room?" John laughed, snapping me out of my concentration. "You kidding?" I smirked, "I'd have a way better excuse now!" We collapsed on the sand, roasting in the sun and sipping on cold beers, feeling like it was old times—if old times involved one of us gossiping about bra shopping. "You know," John said, grinning, "College would've been so much crazier if you were a girl back then." "Hah, right? Imagine the pranks I could pull with this look," I said, shaking my now luxurious red hair. "Or how about this?" I turned to some guys playing football and gave them a flirty wave. Their jaws collectively dropped. "Well, at least you’ve still got game," John said, taking a long swig of his beer. "Got to keep things balanced," I replied, shrugging with a grin. "New body, same old me. Just with more curves and considerably better hair." It was a bizarre day, to say the least, but it felt good to laugh about it. Turns out, catching the Fem Virus didn't change who I was. It just gave John and me another crazy story to tell—one that will probably go down as our best yet.
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