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"The Obedient Machine: A Dystopian Tale of Muscle and Control"

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1. Gym
2. Fitness
3. Bodybuilding
4. Telepathy
5. Surreal in the style of Monet
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In the cold, bleached walls of the gym marked the final haven of normalcy for Hank, a resolute bastion where he sculpted his illustrious physique with the precision of a master artist. The clank of iron and the hum of the treadmill were the comforting soundtrack of his daily life. Hank, with his chiseled muscles and a determination reflected in every flex, entered the gym that fateful day without a shadow of hesitation. Clad in his usual workout attire, he approached the front desk to check in as he did every single day.

The usual attendant, a sprightly young woman named Sarah, was notably absent. In her place stood a new guy, someone Hank had never seen before. The new attendant had a peculiar presence—calm, almost too composed—and met Hank with an eager smile.

“Good morning, would you like to participate in a new fitness monitoring program?” the attendant asked, holding up a thin leather collar with a digital display. “It’s a data recording device that tracks various biometrics during your workout. It could help refine your regime.”

Hank considered the offer, intrigued. His life was a meticulous balance of optimizing and pushing his limits; any tool that might maximize his performance was worth a try. “Sure, why not?” he said, taking the collar.

After changing into his workout clothes in the locker room, he adjusted the collar around his neck, feeling it cool against his skin. He glanced in the mirror, watching the digital display come to life with symbols: a battery icon showing full charge and a progress bar that began to fill as the data recording commenced.

Hank stepped onto the gym floor and threw himself into his usual routine. His muscles screamed and sang with every rep and set, weights clanging, sweat pouring—a symphony of strain and strength. Each time he finished a set, an additional bar on the collar's display illuminated, signaling that the device was recording as promised.

By the time Hank had concluded his arm and chest day regimen, the progress bar was full and glowing a brilliant green. Flushed with satisfaction, Hank made his way to the sauna for his post-workout ritual. Inside the steamy sanctuary, he leaned back and let the warmth envelop him.

Then, inexplicably, the collar began to buzz. At first, it was a slight vibration, almost pleasant, but it quickly intensified. Hank’s vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness overtook him. He braced himself against the bench as the vibrations became overpowering, drowning out every sensation below his neck.

Suddenly, the vibrations ceased, leaving behind a terrifying numbness. He tried to move but found himself paralyzed. With growing horror, he realized his head was beginning to tilt and then, disastrously, it tumbled from his neck, landing with a sickening thud on the hot wooden bench.

Hank's view was now one from the bench, staring at his own body which remained seated and unnervingly still. The collar’s display continued to glow green, only to suddenly go black. Then, with mechanical precision, his body pushed itself up, flexing and moving with a new, autonomous purpose.

In a whirlwind of helpless confusion, Hank watched his headless form exit the sauna. The body moved to the locker room, undressing, showering, and dressing itself with systematic efficiency. Fully clothed, it picked up Hank’s head and made its way back to the front desk.

The new attendant was waiting, his expression a mask of satisfaction. As Hank tried to cry out, mouthing silent words, the attendant ordered his body through a series of bodybuilding poses, inspecting and approving every detail with eerie precision.

“Good,” the attendant finally said, taking Hank’s head and leading the obedient body to a car parked outside. The drive to their destination was a borderline surreal experience for Hank as he lay on the floor of the backseat, trapped in a voiceless nightmare.

Upon arriving at an ordinary-looking house, the attendant carried Hank’s head inside, revealing a chilling collection of other heads lined up in neat niches—each belonging to a bodybuilder or fitness model he recognized from the gym. The usual attendant’s head was there too, her eyes blank and unseeing.

"I’ve been watching you for a while, Hank," the attendant said, his voice calm and detached. "Today was the perfect opportunity to add you to my collection."

As headless bodies marched through the house, carrying out various tasks under the attendant's telepathic command, Hank was taken to the basement. There, more bodies stood in formation, surrounding a high-backed chair heavily built to subdue.

The attendant explained his sinister method: “These bodies form a collective, telepathically controlled by me. Like puppets. Your body will now be integrated into the fold.”

Hank's body seated itself in the chair. The collar's light pulse, slow and rhythmic, before bursting into a vibrant, unified green flash along with those on all bodies. In silence, the headless forms returned to their stations, except for Hank’s new captive flesh suit.

Compelled by the attendant's will, the body stood, picked up Hank's head with an indifference that chilled him to the core, and slotted it into an empty niche, joining the rows of prisoners doomed to eternal silence and watchful, detached horror.

This was now Hank’s reality—a still, undying observer in a dystopian theatre of muscle and mechanical obedience, his defiant spirit forever trapped in a house where body and mind were nations apart.

This story was generated by user bud 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 about a man named Hank, a strong, strapping in his 30s who works out regularly to maintain his fitness model physique. one day he goes to the gym's front desk and checks in with the attendant, a new guy and not the one he usually sees. as he starts to head to the gym, the attendant asks Hank if he would like to participate in a new fitness monitoring program. the attendant shows him a thin leather collar with a digital display on it, describing it as a data recording device that records various biometrics as he works out. Hank is intrigued and agrees, takes a collar and goes to the locker room. after changing into his workout clothes, he puts on the collar, adjusts it to fit, then takes a look in the mirror before starting his workout. Hank notices the collar's displays a few symbols, what appeared like battery icon showing a full charge, and a progress bar with a single bar showing that recording has started. Hank walks out to the gym floor and starts his usual routine for that day, which happens to be arm and chest day. As he finishes the sets of each exercise, he notices that an additional progress bar illuminates. By the time Hank has finished his entire routine, the progress bar is now full and glowing bright green. Hank walks to the sauna for a post-workout sweat. As he sits alone in the steamy air, he feels the collar start to buzz, slight vibrations that increase in intensity after every few seconds. Hank then starts to feel dizzy and leans against sauna wall and holds himself steady with his arms pressed against the bench. The intensity of the vibrations become strong, and he feels like they are downing out his sensation of over his body. The vibrations come to a sudden halt, and Hank discovers that he has become completely numb below his neck. He gets the strange feeling of his head starting to tilt. His view starts to spin as his head tumbles from his neck, and his head lands with a thud on the bench seat. Hank sees the rest of himself still sitting as before; the display on the collar now was entirely a bright glowing green. After a minute that seemed like an eternity, the display goes black, and Hank watches his body push itself off the bench with its hands and stand up then remain perfectly, its chest moving with deep breaths of the humid air. Hank sees the shadows of people walking past the sauna's fogged glass door and tries to call out for help, but the without lungs his head can only mouth silent pleas. Hank helplessly listens as the voices coming from the gym die down until there is complete silence. Hank's body begins to move, bends down, picks up the head, then exits the sauna to an empty gym. Hank notices that someone had placed an out-of-order sign on the sauna door after he had entered, explaining why no one else was using the sauna. When the body enters the locker room, it puts Hank's head on the counter then goes to shower itself. When it returns, Hank watches it go to his locker, dial the combination to the padlock, take out Hank's clothes and dress itself. Fully-dressed, the body put the workout clothes in Hank's gym back, collects Hank's head, then walks to the front desk where Hank sees the new attendant waiting there expectantly. Hank looks on angrily as the attendant give his body instructions which it unquestioningly obeys, first to drop everything it is carrying and perform bodybuilding poses. The attendant smiles approvingly as the body showcases its well-developed muscles. Satisfied with the body's condition, the attendant picks up Hank's head and tells his body to follow him to the car. The attendant opens the car's passenger side door for Hank's body to climb in and sit, and puts Hank's head on the backseat floor, hidden out of view. The attendant gets into the driver's seat, starts the engine and starts driving to the parking garage exit. As he pulls out of the parking garage and starts driving on the road, the attendant tells Hank that he has been watching him for a while. To Hank's confusion, the attendant also says he was glad that today presented the opportunity to add him to his collection. When they reach their destination, the attendant picks up Hank's head and instructs the body to follow him into the house. Once inside, Hank is shocked to find an array of heads placed in a set of wall niches. One head was of the gym's usual attendant, and the others were of fitness model and bodybuilder gym regulars. Sounds of activity came from other rooms in the house, and now and then a muscular headless body wearing an identical collar would enter the room, walking past in purposeful strides on its way another part of the house. The attendant gives Hank's head to his body to carry, and as he leads it to the basement, headless bodies throughout the house appear to obey an unspoken command to gather behind and follow. when the last one arrives the bodies form into ranks around a solitary high-backed chair in the middle of the room. the attendant tells Hank's body to sit in the chair. the attendant explains to Hank that the bodies in the house form a collective that is telepathically commanded by him. the attendant describes that similar to a person controlling a body that thought, he controls collective except the same way; whatever action he decides, and the bodies will work together to carry out it out, taking advantage of each body's skills and abilities. the attendant tells Hank that his body will now be integrated to the collective. the chair's headrest and collar on Hank's body start to glow in a series of red slow pulses for several minutes, and then in unison the collars on the bodies flash green, including Hank's. in complete silence the bodies leave to continue their tasks except for Hank's body. Disconnected from Hank and compelled by the attendant's will, the body stands up, walks to Hank's head, picks it up, and takes it to one of the vacant wall niches to join the other captive heads.

Response: In the cold, bleached walls of the gym marked the final haven of normalcy for Hank, a resolute bastion where he sculpted his illustrious physique with the precision of a master artist. The clank of iron and the hum of the treadmill were the comforting soundtrack of his daily life. Hank, with his chiseled muscles and a determination reflected in every flex, entered the gym that fateful day without a shadow of hesitation. Clad in his usual workout attire, he approached the front desk to check in as he did every single day. The usual attendant, a sprightly young woman named Sarah, was notably absent. In her place stood a new guy, someone Hank had never seen before. The new attendant had a peculiar presence—calm, almost too composed—and met Hank with an eager smile. “Good morning, would you like to participate in a new fitness monitoring program?” the attendant asked, holding up a thin leather collar with a digital display. “It’s a data recording device that tracks various biometrics during your workout. It could help refine your regime.” Hank considered the offer, intrigued. His life was a meticulous balance of optimizing and pushing his limits; any tool that might maximize his performance was worth a try. “Sure, why not?” he said, taking the collar. After changing into his workout clothes in the locker room, he adjusted the collar around his neck, feeling it cool against his skin. He glanced in the mirror, watching the digital display come to life with symbols: a battery icon showing full charge and a progress bar that began to fill as the data recording commenced. Hank stepped onto the gym floor and threw himself into his usual routine. His muscles screamed and sang with every rep and set, weights clanging, sweat pouring—a symphony of strain and strength. Each time he finished a set, an additional bar on the collar's display illuminated, signaling that the device was recording as promised. By the time Hank had concluded his arm and chest day regimen, the progress bar was full and glowing a brilliant green. Flushed with satisfaction, Hank made his way to the sauna for his post-workout ritual. Inside the steamy sanctuary, he leaned back and let the warmth envelop him. Then, inexplicably, the collar began to buzz. At first, it was a slight vibration, almost pleasant, but it quickly intensified. Hank’s vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness overtook him. He braced himself against the bench as the vibrations became overpowering, drowning out every sensation below his neck. Suddenly, the vibrations ceased, leaving behind a terrifying numbness. He tried to move but found himself paralyzed. With growing horror, he realized his head was beginning to tilt and then, disastrously, it tumbled from his neck, landing with a sickening thud on the hot wooden bench. Hank's view was now one from the bench, staring at his own body which remained seated and unnervingly still. The collar’s display continued to glow green, only to suddenly go black. Then, with mechanical precision, his body pushed itself up, flexing and moving with a new, autonomous purpose. In a whirlwind of helpless confusion, Hank watched his headless form exit the sauna. The body moved to the locker room, undressing, showering, and dressing itself with systematic efficiency. Fully clothed, it picked up Hank’s head and made its way back to the front desk. The new attendant was waiting, his expression a mask of satisfaction. As Hank tried to cry out, mouthing silent words, the attendant ordered his body through a series of bodybuilding poses, inspecting and approving every detail with eerie precision. “Good,” the attendant finally said, taking Hank’s head and leading the obedient body to a car parked outside. The drive to their destination was a borderline surreal experience for Hank as he lay on the floor of the backseat, trapped in a voiceless nightmare. Upon arriving at an ordinary-looking house, the attendant carried Hank’s head inside, revealing a chilling collection of other heads lined up in neat niches—each belonging to a bodybuilder or fitness model he recognized from the gym. The usual attendant’s head was there too, her eyes blank and unseeing. "I’ve been watching you for a while, Hank," the attendant said, his voice calm and detached. "Today was the perfect opportunity to add you to my collection." As headless bodies marched through the house, carrying out various tasks under the attendant's telepathic command, Hank was taken to the basement. There, more bodies stood in formation, surrounding a high-backed chair heavily built to subdue. The attendant explained his sinister method: “These bodies form a collective, telepathically controlled by me. Like puppets. Your body will now be integrated into the fold.” Hank's body seated itself in the chair. The collar's light pulse, slow and rhythmic, before bursting into a vibrant, unified green flash along with those on all bodies. In silence, the headless forms returned to their stations, except for Hank’s new captive flesh suit. Compelled by the attendant's will, the body stood, picked up Hank's head with an indifference that chilled him to the core, and slotted it into an empty niche, joining the rows of prisoners doomed to eternal silence and watchful, detached horror. This was now Hank’s reality—a still, undying observer in a dystopian theatre of muscle and mechanical obedience, his defiant spirit forever trapped in a house where body and mind were nations apart.

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