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Question: Story: The year is 2024. Write me a story the way I write about a random 6 year old boy with a description of the boy's name, where he's from in the US, birthday, birth year, height, weight, hair color, hairstyle, eye color and what he's wearing shoes included and what he sounds like as he walks home alone for the first time with permission from his 25 year old mom. Have him blink and suddenly be taller and in a different state as he looks down seeing a skimpy revealing outfit with a description of the skimpy outfit and revealing sandals with a description of what they look like and have the outfit be too short for the cold weather. Describe the woman who's body the 6 year old ends up in including her name, age, race, height, weight, hair color, hairstyle, eye color and what she's wearing accessories and jewelry and earrings and fierce makeup and bold lipstick and long fake nails and purse included and what she sounds like and if she's with somebody with it being a woman and have the other woman address the woman in a sassy way calling her bitch like it's a playful nickname and boo asking what's wrong with her and whether or not they were gonna go to the club and get lit and get drunk with their other girlfriends the woman referred to as sluts and hos before bumping hips with who she thought was her friend and pulling her friends hand out and comparing their nail extensions and describe who the person is to the woman. Describe the other woman's name, age, race, height, weight, hair color, hairstyle, eye color and what she's wearing with it being just as skimpy as the woman the 6 year old boy ends up in the body of accessories and jewelry and earrings and makeup and lipstick and nail polish and purse included and what she sounds like. Have the 6 year old boy spot his new reflection in the mirror as he stumbles over to the mirror blinking innocently even with his new more mature eyes and point at his reflection with his new mature fingers shaking from the cold weather as well as the fear he now had from being a woman. Have the little boy say mommy i'm scared and ew gross i'm a girl and ew gross these are girly clothes and shoes like mommy wears in the grown woman's voice and tone and have it be in quoted text and have the words be spelled differently due to way the woman talks. Have the little boy start crying as he wonders how he's gonna get home and if he'll ever see mommy again.
In 2024, there was a boy aged six named Bobby Johnson. Born on January 6, 2018, in a small town in Nebraska, he was an average boy of average height and weight for his age: about four feet tall, weighing around 50lbs. His hair was a dusty blonde, usually kept in a careful buzzcut, and his eyes were a piercing blue. One day, dressed in his favorite red and blue Spiderman shirt, khaki shorts, and his white sneakers that made a repetitive 'sqeek' sound as he walked, he was coming home alone for the first time, using his squeaky voice to hum a schoolyard song. As he blinked, things changed dramatically; his vantage point was higher, and he felt an unfamiliar chill. As he looked down, he was shocked to see a very revealing, leopard print miniskirt, and a cropped, skin-tight red top which was strapless and pushed up, failing to combat the cold weather. On his feet were strappy, red, six-inch high-heeled sandals that made a sharp clicking sound whenever he moved. Bobby was in the body of a woman named Bianca, an African American woman of 27 years old, standing at 5'9", and weighing around 140lbs. Her hair was a cascading black, styled in long, loose waves, and her bright hazel eyes were heavy with fierce makeup. Ruby red lipstick, bold black liner, and long fake nails adorned her figure. She wore golden hoop earrings, layered thin gold chains around her neck, and carried a black leather purse. Her voice, carrying the hints of a New Jersey accent, is what managed to scare Bobby the most. Bianca's companion, a woman named Sasha, was every bit as striking. She had vibrant, auburn hair styled into a chic bob, with sparkling, silver eyes, and a porcelain complexion. Sasha was smaller, standing at a petite 5'3". A citrus-hued, body-hugging dress clung to her figure, and a pair of lime green sandals peeked out beneath it. Her voice was animated, like a song, naturally enticing and rich, as she playfully called out, "Bitch, are we getting lit at the club or what?" The six-year-old boy turned in this new body, fighting off the cold, and approached a wall mirror. The reflection did not show his Spiderman t-shirt or khaki shorts. Instead, he saw these women's clothes, a tight miniskirt, a cropped top, and high-heeled sandals. He lifted a manicured hand, the long fake nails glittering under the light, and pointed at the reflection. He blurted out in a voice that was deep and feminine, not his own, "'Mommy, I'm scayuhd. Ew, gwoss, I'm a gihl. Ew, gwoss, these are gihly clothes and shoes like Mommy wears." His blues eyes, now much older and framed by eyeliner and mascara, filled with tears. He wondered if he was ever going to see his Mommy again, and if he was ever going to wear his Spiderman shirt again.
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