Title: "Ranch Reboot: The Adventures of Bobbie-Jo"
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Bobby-Joe's ranch looked the same as it always had, tousled hay bales scattered sporadically across the verdant pastures and a barn housing a shiny red tractor prominently displayed like a prized centerpiece at a holiday feast. But the moment Bobby-Joe opened the front door, it was clear nothing was the same.
The being who greeted me was Bobby-Joe yet not Bobby-Joe at the same time - a lean body wrapped around curves that had only recently appeared, a shapely silhouette adorning a Stetson hat. Fixing his hair—or was it her hair now?—blowing wayward strands out of her face with a sigh, she glared with twinkling eyes at me descending the porch steps.
"Sure took you long enough, partner," she drawled, her husky voice now spiked with a feminine touch that made it sound eerily melodious.
The burgers sizzled on a barbecue grill that seemed to have gained an extra sparkle under her new feminine touch, the secret pinch of oregano standing out among the traditional smokey flavors. Frequently, she shook her head, adjusting her bra and jutting her hip.
"It ain't half as easy as it looks in the movies, y'know," she said, adjusting her bra strap yet again. "These damn things are a menace on a horse ride!"
That sent me into giggles as I remembered old Bobby-Joe, the cowboy who could wrangle a rampaging bull without moving a muscle of his poker straight back. The vision of him - or her now - bouncing around uncontrollably on horseback was a stark contrast and yet, oddly amusing.
"It's not funny, pal!" she scolded, her brows furrowed in mock annoyance, but her eyes were alive with amusement, a trait that hadn't really changed.
"Do you, um, have a new name in mind?" I asked tentatively, as we sat down to eat.
She was quiet for a moment, chewing on a piece of burger thoughtfully, her eyes twinkling under the brim of her Stetson. Finally, she grinned, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous spark I'd come to equate with Bobby-Joe.
"Well, now that you ask," she chuckled, grinning from ear to ear, "How does Bobbie-Jo sound?"
And in that moment—with a mouthful of her delicious burgers and dressed in an absurd combination of a cowboy hat, tank top, and booty shorts—Bobbie-Jo seemed more cowboy than she had ever been. Second puberty be damned, she was still the same cowboy buddy I had always known, just with an added dose of estrogen and a heaping pile of courage.
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 My buddy was your typical cowboy type guy. He was always helping me out with cars and handy work, he was far more of your typical manly man than I was. But that all changed once he got second puberty which is a strange occurrence that only happens in men where a man turns into a woman. His muscles and beard turned into a curvy figure. He’s still trying to be the same old cowboy he used to be. It’s just not the same anymore. I even think he might be attracted to guys now, not that he’d ever admit it. I came over to check on him at his ranch and he was making burgers for us and he kept adjusting his bra annoyed and blowing his hair out of his face. He talked about the struggle of riding horses with his new boobs bouncing around. Luckily, he was able to find a tank top and some booty shorts that show off his new figure. I asked him if he had thought of a new feminine name for himself.
Response: Bobby-Joe's ranch looked the same as it always had, tousled hay bales scattered sporadically across the verdant pastures and a barn housing a shiny red tractor prominently displayed like a prized centerpiece at a holiday feast. But the moment Bobby-Joe opened the front door, it was clear nothing was the same. The being who greeted me was Bobby-Joe yet not Bobby-Joe at the same time - a lean body wrapped around curves that had only recently appeared, a shapely silhouette adorning a Stetson hat. Fixing his hair—or was it her hair now?—blowing wayward strands out of her face with a sigh, she glared with twinkling eyes at me descending the porch steps. "Sure took you long enough, partner," she drawled, her husky voice now spiked with a feminine touch that made it sound eerily melodious. The burgers sizzled on a barbecue grill that seemed to have gained an extra sparkle under her new feminine touch, the secret pinch of oregano standing out among the traditional smokey flavors. Frequently, she shook her head, adjusting her bra and jutting her hip. "It ain't half as easy as it looks in the movies, y'know," she said, adjusting her bra strap yet again. "These damn things are a menace on a horse ride!" That sent me into giggles as I remembered old Bobby-Joe, the cowboy who could wrangle a rampaging bull without moving a muscle of his poker straight back. The vision of him - or her now - bouncing around uncontrollably on horseback was a stark contrast and yet, oddly amusing. "It's not funny, pal!" she scolded, her brows furrowed in mock annoyance, but her eyes were alive with amusement, a trait that hadn't really changed. "Do you, um, have a new name in mind?" I asked tentatively, as we sat down to eat. She was quiet for a moment, chewing on a piece of burger thoughtfully, her eyes twinkling under the brim of her Stetson. Finally, she grinned, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous spark I'd come to equate with Bobby-Joe. "Well, now that you ask," she chuckled, grinning from ear to ear, "How does Bobbie-Jo sound?" And in that moment—with a mouthful of her delicious burgers and dressed in an absurd combination of a cowboy hat, tank top, and booty shorts—Bobbie-Jo seemed more cowboy than she had ever been. Second puberty be damned, she was still the same cowboy buddy I had always known, just with an added dose of estrogen and a heaping pile of courage.
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