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"Metamorphosis of the Yellowjacket Queen"

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You blink up at the ceiling, swallowed by an unusual sense of lethargy as the book slips from your grasp and closes with a soft thud on the living room floor. The once-cozy confines of your plush sofa now seem distant, curiously detached. You push yourself up and immediately feel a shiver run down your spine. There's a strange, electric pulsation coursing through your veins, like wildfire spreading unchecked. Before you can even comprehend what's happening, your world narrows to a fine point of pain and curiosity.

"Oh God! What is happening to me?" you gasp, dropping to your knees.

A sudden pressure builds around your mouth, and you wince, feeling a disturbing itch morph into an agonizing reshaping. Bending over, you clutch your face, horrified as your lips elongate and harden, transforming into sharp, insect-like mandibles.

"No, no, this can't be real!"

Your voice sounds muffled and alien, words distorted through your new mandibles. With each strained breath, your nose and ears vanish into smooth exoskeleton, leaving nothing but an unnerving blankness. You scream, or at least you try, but the vocal cords in your throat disintegrate, plunging you into a suffocating, voiceless silence.

Your hands scramble at your back as it feels like it's splitting open. With a sickening lurch, something burst forth — new limbs perhaps? The sensation is accompanied by an irresistible urge to unfurl these limbs and use them. You flex, and to your growing dread, a pair of gossamer-thin wings flap in response. The world vibrates around you, and you can feel your consciousness teetering on the brink as your eyes swell and warp, expanding into bulky black lenses. Everything sharpens, each minute detail of the room emerging in a hyper-real clarity.

Your legs buckle, barely holding up your rapidly altering frame. Your waist tingles and stretches, becoming something inhuman. Four additional legs sprout, each joint snapping into place methodically. A furious buzzing fills your mind as your lower body grotesquely inflates and reshapes itself, merging your genitals and lower back into a massive, striated abdomen crowned with a glistening stinger. The transformation is swift, brutal, and complete, your human figure shrinking down to a diminutive yet powerful insect form.

Your mind fights to hold onto fragments of who you were, but they slip away like grains of sand through the hourglass. The voice inside your head grows louder, more insistent.

“You were never human. Never male. You are a queen. A queen yellowjacket wasp.”

You reel, antennae twitching as memories of droning, countless workers, and the taste of flight flood your consciousness. You were always a fertile queen, born from an egg, a larva, a pupa, and then onto this powerful regal body. All recollections of human life are overwritten by visceral insect instincts.

The drone's memories flood your thoughts, a chorus urging reproductive duties. Your new consciousness pulses with the singular purpose: to lay eggs, to populate your species. The house around you, once a sanctuary, now looms as a mere structure, a place to anchor your nest.

Your six legs find steady purchase on the wall, and you start identifying the prime location for your burgeoning empire. The porch ceiling beckons, a perfect cradle for your progeny. You climb without hesitation, antennae scanning the surfaces as your instincts for nest-building kick in.

All human speech has become guttural noise, insignificant. The world you knew blurs into the abstract. You are no longer concerned with anything but the primal duty that awaits. A nest to build, drones to command, and eggs to lay.

You are a queen. You were always a queen.

This story was generated by user FairlyOddFairies 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 the POV transformation story of a male human reader turning into a yellowjacket wasp queen (of the species "Vespula germanica", commonly known as the European wasp), complete with gender change (if the reader is a male), shrinking (until the reader is wasp-sized), body changes (the reader's mouth turning into insect mandibles, the reader's nose and ears completely vanishing, the reader's back growing a pair of wasp wings (allowing the reader to fly), the reader's eyes grow into larger black insect eyes, the reader's vocal cords vanishing completely to prevent the reader from talking or making any vocal sounds, the reader's waists growing a third pair of insect legs, the reader's human body morphing into a segmented insect body, the genitals (penis and testicles) and rear end (aka a butt or an ass) merging and greatly inflating into a very large wasp abdomen with a stinger at the tip, the reader losing his (now her) bipedal posture and falling onto all six insect legs, etc), age change, and mind/mental change (with the reader's personality and memories being completely replaced with a queen yellowjacket wasp's personality and memories, despite his (now her) best efforts of holding onto them, with the voice inside the reader's head telling her that she was never a human and never a male to begin with and tells the newly-transformed being that she was always a wasp queen and that she has built her nest filled with drones (males) and workers (sterile females) and the voice in her head urges her to lay eggs to help populate her species, making her completely forgot all about being human or a male, as well as forgetting all about man-made devices and structures, viewing them as nothing significant other than to build her nest onto (including but not limited to the ceiling of the house's front porch), no longer knowing any human language nor even understand what they mean (the human language becomes meaningless noises) despite the voice in her head earlier, and she now only remembers that she was always a female yellowjacket wasp ever since she was a newborn larvae about a month ago, as well as remembering emerging from her pupal stage less than a month ago, and remembers being a fertile queen ever since just a few weeks ago. She also remembers that she is polyandrous, having mated with a moderate number of males (known as drones), between one and seven of them, with no optimal number of mates). There should also be quotes from the characters (including the reader's former male human self) in this story so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking. Also, it is a POV reader story, so it should not be in an author's point of view (my, I, mine, etc), and it should be from the point of view of the reader (you, your, etc).

Response: You blink up at the ceiling, swallowed by an unusual sense of lethargy as the book slips from your grasp and closes with a soft thud on the living room floor. The once-cozy confines of your plush sofa now seem distant, curiously detached. You push yourself up and immediately feel a shiver run down your spine. There's a strange, electric pulsation coursing through your veins, like wildfire spreading unchecked. Before you can even comprehend what's happening, your world narrows to a fine point of pain and curiosity. "Oh God! What is happening to me?" you gasp, dropping to your knees. A sudden pressure builds around your mouth, and you wince, feeling a disturbing itch morph into an agonizing reshaping. Bending over, you clutch your face, horrified as your lips elongate and harden, transforming into sharp, insect-like mandibles. "No, no, this can't be real!" Your voice sounds muffled and alien, words distorted through your new mandibles. With each strained breath, your nose and ears vanish into smooth exoskeleton, leaving nothing but an unnerving blankness. You scream, or at least you try, but the vocal cords in your throat disintegrate, plunging you into a suffocating, voiceless silence. Your hands scramble at your back as it feels like it's splitting open. With a sickening lurch, something burst forth — new limbs perhaps? The sensation is accompanied by an irresistible urge to unfurl these limbs and use them. You flex, and to your growing dread, a pair of gossamer-thin wings flap in response. The world vibrates around you, and you can feel your consciousness teetering on the brink as your eyes swell and warp, expanding into bulky black lenses. Everything sharpens, each minute detail of the room emerging in a hyper-real clarity. Your legs buckle, barely holding up your rapidly altering frame. Your waist tingles and stretches, becoming something inhuman. Four additional legs sprout, each joint snapping into place methodically. A furious buzzing fills your mind as your lower body grotesquely inflates and reshapes itself, merging your genitals and lower back into a massive, striated abdomen crowned with a glistening stinger. The transformation is swift, brutal, and complete, your human figure shrinking down to a diminutive yet powerful insect form. Your mind fights to hold onto fragments of who you were, but they slip away like grains of sand through the hourglass. The voice inside your head grows louder, more insistent. “You were never human. Never male. You are a queen. A queen yellowjacket wasp.” You reel, antennae twitching as memories of droning, countless workers, and the taste of flight flood your consciousness. You were always a fertile queen, born from an egg, a larva, a pupa, and then onto this powerful regal body. All recollections of human life are overwritten by visceral insect instincts. The drone's memories flood your thoughts, a chorus urging reproductive duties. Your new consciousness pulses with the singular purpose: to lay eggs, to populate your species. The house around you, once a sanctuary, now looms as a mere structure, a place to anchor your nest. Your six legs find steady purchase on the wall, and you start identifying the prime location for your burgeoning empire. The porch ceiling beckons, a perfect cradle for your progeny. You climb without hesitation, antennae scanning the surfaces as your instincts for nest-building kick in. All human speech has become guttural noise, insignificant. The world you knew blurs into the abstract. You are no longer concerned with anything but the primal duty that awaits. A nest to build, drones to command, and eggs to lay. You are a queen. You were always a queen.

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