Ask AI on The Internet
Question: Story: Write me a story the way I write about a random 5 year old boy with a description of what state the boy is from, what he looks like, what he's dressed in, what he's doing and when he goes to bed. Have him wake up in the body of a white woman in America in the 1970s with a description of what the woman is dressed in, her hairstyle, where she was and her jewelry and accessories and have him walk to a mirror freaking out at his new reflection. Please have the boy unwillingly do feminine things in his body like admiring himself and putting more jewelry on or putting on lipstick or putting on heels. Please have the boy try to say he's scared and misses his mommy but have him unwillingly say it in the way a woman in the 1970s would with the slang included and have it be in quoted text.
In the heartland of Texas lived a rambunctious and adventurous 5-year-old boy named Tyler. This cherubic faced lad, sporting a mop of unruly, dirty blonde hair, freckles like constellations on his sun-kissed skin, always wore his favorite pair of denim overalls, indicative of his unpretentious upbringing. Having discovered a fascination with a simple cardboard box, Tyler spent his time creating imaginary worlds that extended beyond his Texan backyard. As the sweet summer sun retired behind the vast Texan horizon, Tyler in his well-worn Spiderman pajamas was tucked into bed, the echoes of his laughter surrendering to the unconventional lullaby of nocturnal creatures. Suddenly, Tyler found himself waking up to elusive dreams. But, everything felt off. His vision was enclosing upon a reflective surface, a gilded frame mirror that was so alien to him. Frozen amidst a sea of confusion, he was in the unfamiliar body of a white woman. It was America in the 1970s. Emitting a startling gasp at his reflection, he saw an unfamiliar face staring back at him. She had long, tousled mahogany hair styled in the iconic Farrah Fawcett waves. Delicately resting on her nose were a pair of John Lennon sunglasses. The woman was bedecked in a vivid polyester midi dress displaying bold patterns - an ode to the pulsating and colorful decade. Her neck glittered with layers of gold necklaces, her ears boasted thick gold hoops and chunky beaded bracelets clinked on her wrists. Suddenly, he found his hands reaching up to retouch the lavish sunglasses, inadvertently admiring the reflection. The same hands tenderly repositioned the weighty gold hoops, appreciating the glamorous jingle. "It's as if they have a life of their own," the bewildered boy thought, eyeing the tube of Revlon lipstick seductively poised on the cluttered dressing table. His body moved of its own volition and a fit of reluctance seized Tyler as deep rouge smeared across the woman's lips. His small hands fumbled with the towering heels waiting expectantly in the corner. Tyler yelped, "I ain't likin' this. I need my Mommy! I'm fixin' to get free," but his voiced lilted in an undeniably feminine and subtly sultry tone, "Oh sweetie, feeling a little jelly right now. Could use some compadre-love in this whole rumble." Unfamiliar slang slipped out all too naturally. He was far from the backyard of his Texan home, and the heeled shoes were distant from the carefree, worn-out sneakers he knew. And yet, with every look in the mirror, he realized that however strange, he was still himself. If only he could make others around him see that too.
A new large language model has been made available since this question was asked.
To generate an updated answer from the new model, click the button below.
Think your answer is better than the AI's? Post it below.
Question Tags
If you want your question answered by an AI, click here.
Post your own comment: