"The Wishing Coin Twist"
0 Points
0
It was the middle of one of Boston's legendary gloomy winters in 1895. The dull, steel-colored sky had wrapped the city in an almost oppressive pall, making it seem as if life were taking place under a great, dark dome. I found myself at the local pub for our weekly meeting, a sanctuary for both warmth and camaraderie. That night, I confided in my best friend Samuel about the peculiar events that had recently disrupted the otherwise monotonous rhythm of my life.
"Be careful what you wish for," I began, swirling my glass of ale. “That’s what I warn everyone before I tell you about my wishing coin story.”
Samuel raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A wishing coin, you say? Pray, do unfold the tale."
I took a deep breath, glanced around to ensure no one else was listening, and continued. “Well, as you know, Edith and I had a good relationship, but at times it felt as if she was overworked, not giving me enough attention. A few months back, I stumbled across an old gypsy woman in the market. She sold me a coin—a magical one, she claimed. Told me it would grant me a single wish."
“The old gypsy trope," Samuel interjected with a chuckle. "This is sounding quite the yarn already.”
"Yarn or not," I said, "I made my wish. Foolishly, I wished that I could have two wives. The coin agreed, with a bit of a twist. It turned my closest friend into an exact clone of Edith."
Samuel's eyes widened. "Surely, you're jesting!"
"I wish I were," I replied, taking another sip. "My best friend John, my trusted companion through thick and thin, was transformed into a second Edith. Identical in every way, save for his more... masculine personality. He seemed to relish the change, even adapting to the... shall we say, curvaceous and busty form with surprising ease. Every time he complained about how heavy his new 'girls' were, or gossiped with the real Edith, I couldn't help feeling both incredulous and entertained."
As if on cue, the door to the pub swung open, and who else but John—now Edith—walked in. Dressed in a green, low-cut bodice that accentuated his, or rather her, new form, she confidently fielded the curious glances thrown her way.
Samuel, attempting to wrap his mind around my story, whispered, "Does anyone else know?"
"No," I replied. "We've managed to keep the matter discreet. People simply assume John has been absent for other reasons." As I spoke, John's—Edith's—gaze found ours through the dim light, and she walked over with an exaggerated sway.
"Well, if it isn't the fine men deep in their cups," she said, placing two beers in front of us. "Sup, dude?" she addressed Samuel, a mischievous sparkle in her—Edith's—eyes. "Did my new hubby regale you with the tale of how I went from beer belly to boobs?"
Samuel couldn't stifle a laugh. "Indeed, he did. Quite the transformation. How do you find... everything about it?"
"I'd say it's a mixed blessing myself," John-as-Edith replied, flashing a grin. "The new figure does garner attention, but I'll tell you, these 'girls' are as much burden as boon."
As she sat beside us, I couldn't help but notice the oddity of the moment—a collision of past and present, reality and enchantment. We continued our conversation, the pub swelling with laughter and the warmth of shared stories. In that moment, the twisted blessing of the wishing coin struck me—as peculiar and unsettling as it was, it had forged my bond with Edith and her clone, my bizarre new cohabitant, into something both extraordinary and unique.
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 I tell my friend about the story Be careful what you wish for. That’s what I warn everyone before I tell you about my wishing coin story. Me and my wife had a good relationship but at times I felt she was overworked and wasn’t giving me enough attention. So I wished I could have two wives. The wishing coin gave me exactly that. However, it twisted my wish. It turned my nest friend into an exact clone of my wife. It’s a blessing and a curse, he isn’t a bad wife but he definitely has a much more masculine personality compared to my wife which is odd. He seems to love having my wife's curvaceous and busty redheaded body. He wears low cut tops He complains about how heavy her breasts are while he does chores around the house. I've been shocked with how much gossip him and my real wife do now too. Things can get odd around the house now but having two babes around the house definitely has advantage even if one of them used to be a guy. I call my new wife to get us some beers and out he comes porting a green low cut top to show off his new "girls". She walks into the room sees the score to the game and complains about out team being down by 10 points. Speaking of my friend in my wife's busty body here she comes now with some beers. She looks over at my friend and says sup dude, did my new hubby tell you the story of how I went for beer belly to boobs. we both laugh.
Response: It was the middle of one of Boston's legendary gloomy winters in 1895. The dull, steel-colored sky had wrapped the city in an almost oppressive pall, making it seem as if life were taking place under a great, dark dome. I found myself at the local pub for our weekly meeting, a sanctuary for both warmth and camaraderie. That night, I confided in my best friend Samuel about the peculiar events that had recently disrupted the otherwise monotonous rhythm of my life. "Be careful what you wish for," I began, swirling my glass of ale. “That’s what I warn everyone before I tell you about my wishing coin story.” Samuel raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A wishing coin, you say? Pray, do unfold the tale." I took a deep breath, glanced around to ensure no one else was listening, and continued. “Well, as you know, Edith and I had a good relationship, but at times it felt as if she was overworked, not giving me enough attention. A few months back, I stumbled across an old gypsy woman in the market. She sold me a coin—a magical one, she claimed. Told me it would grant me a single wish." “The old gypsy trope," Samuel interjected with a chuckle. "This is sounding quite the yarn already.” "Yarn or not," I said, "I made my wish. Foolishly, I wished that I could have two wives. The coin agreed, with a bit of a twist. It turned my closest friend into an exact clone of Edith." Samuel's eyes widened. "Surely, you're jesting!" "I wish I were," I replied, taking another sip. "My best friend John, my trusted companion through thick and thin, was transformed into a second Edith. Identical in every way, save for his more... masculine personality. He seemed to relish the change, even adapting to the... shall we say, curvaceous and busty form with surprising ease. Every time he complained about how heavy his new 'girls' were, or gossiped with the real Edith, I couldn't help feeling both incredulous and entertained." As if on cue, the door to the pub swung open, and who else but John—now Edith—walked in. Dressed in a green, low-cut bodice that accentuated his, or rather her, new form, she confidently fielded the curious glances thrown her way. Samuel, attempting to wrap his mind around my story, whispered, "Does anyone else know?" "No," I replied. "We've managed to keep the matter discreet. People simply assume John has been absent for other reasons." As I spoke, John's—Edith's—gaze found ours through the dim light, and she walked over with an exaggerated sway. "Well, if it isn't the fine men deep in their cups," she said, placing two beers in front of us. "Sup, dude?" she addressed Samuel, a mischievous sparkle in her—Edith's—eyes. "Did my new hubby regale you with the tale of how I went from beer belly to boobs?" Samuel couldn't stifle a laugh. "Indeed, he did. Quite the transformation. How do you find... everything about it?" "I'd say it's a mixed blessing myself," John-as-Edith replied, flashing a grin. "The new figure does garner attention, but I'll tell you, these 'girls' are as much burden as boon." As she sat beside us, I couldn't help but notice the oddity of the moment—a collision of past and present, reality and enchantment. We continued our conversation, the pub swelling with laughter and the warmth of shared stories. In that moment, the twisted blessing of the wishing coin struck me—as peculiar and unsettling as it was, it had forged my bond with Edith and her clone, my bizarre new cohabitant, into something both extraordinary and unique.
Post your own comment: