Ask AI on The Internet
Question: Write me a long and thorough and detailed story the way I write about a random 6 year old boy with a description of the boy's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, what state he's from, hair color and style and eye color. His young mom's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His young dad whose no longer in his life's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His young aunt's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His young uncle whose busy doing other stuff's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His grandma's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. Have him be walking home alone for the first time when he gets home and the house is completely empty. Have him sit down on the couch and blink only to suddenly find himself sitting somewhere less nice. Have him look down to notice he's in a more mature body. Have him realize he's a woman wearing a revealing outfit barefoot with accessories and makeup and painted nails but covered in bruises, cuts and marks and have a part of her body be bruised revealing what it was not being her foot or ankle or leg with a description of the outfit. Reveal the woman's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color possibly being dyed and style and eye color and what state she's from and what she was doing just seconds ago and what she does for work. Have a male grab the boy's new female feet shoving a pair of some kind of skimpy sandals on his feet with a description of the sandals. Have the boy in the woman's body jerk and unwillingly complain about how uncomfortable the shoes are and have it be in quoted text mentioning what she did for work and cussing. Reveal who the male is to the girl, his name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. Have the man tell the woman she don't get to pick what shoes she gets and to shut up and have it be in quoted text pulling her off the ground and shoving a purse on her shoulder and cussing at her. The swap is permanent and the boy is sad. Have the boy say he's gonna miss mommy so much and have it be in quoted text. Have the boy unwillingly adjust the outfit and purse in a feminine way before leaving and going and unhappily starting his new life. Have the boy stop and look at the skimpy sandals on his new female feet being reminded of the injury he currently had.
Once upon a time, in the vibrant but humble town of Duluth, Minnesota, there resided a special boy named Oliver Johnson. Oliver was 6 years old with a rather small stature for his age, standing at 3 feet 9 inches, and weighing 42 pounds. His birthday was April 20, 2015, and he had a head full of wavy, chestnut-brown hair that often tumbled into his wide, hazel eyes which were as glossy and as captivating as the summer lakes they frequently visited. His mother, Emily Johnson, was a youthful 24-year-old woman who worked as a nurse. She was petite, standing at 5'2", and weighed 115 pounds. Emily had a birthday on July 25, 1997. Her long, straight, raven-black hair and soft, green eyes were hallmarks of her beauty. His father, Mark Johnson, was 27 years old. He was a tall man, standing at 6'1", and weighing 190 pounds. His birthday was October 4, 1994. Mark boasted a brown hair styled in a classic crew cut, accentuating his piercing blue eyes. However, Mark was no longer a part of Oliver's life. Apart from his parents, Oliver held a special place in his heart for his aunt, Audrey, and uncle, Victor. Audrey was an energetic 22-year old, who, just like Emily, was rather petite, standing at 5'3" and weighing 110 pounds. Her birthday was March 30, 1999. Audrey's unusual auburn hair, cut in a long bob, always bouncing jovially just like her, and her beautiful brown eyes were as warm as the sun. On the other hand, Victor was a 25-year-old, who was a bit busy with his start-up. He was 5’10” and weighed 160 pounds. His birthday was on February 2, 1996. He had jet-black hair, styled casually, and brown eyes. Oliver’s grandmother, old but strong Mrs. Amelia Johnson, was 60 years old, quite tall for her age at 5'7", and weighed 160 pounds. She was born on May 4, 1961. Her silver hair, usually tied back, threw a halo around her wisened face, and her blue eyes gleamed with the wisdom of her years. One fine sunny day, Oliver got the courage to walk home alone for the first time. But when he reached home, he was met by the unsettling silence of an empty house. He took a couch in the living room, sitting in the comfortable silence, when suddenly everything changed. In the blink of an eye, Oliver found himself sitting somewhere less inviting, in a grimy sitting room filled with old furniture. It was there he noticed, looking down, that his small, childish body was replaced by a more mature, feminine one. He looked at his reflection in a mirror across the room. Oliver was now replaced by a woman named Rebecca, a 30-year-old, brave yet battered woman. Rebecca was statuesque, standing tall at 5'9", and weighed 135 pounds. She was born on May 22, 1991. She had wavy, shoulder-length hair, an unusual platinum shade that undoubtedly was dyed, and icy-blue eyes. She was from the state of New York. She was a dancer at a local club just seconds ago. Dressed in a revealing outfit, a short, black sequin dress, Rebecca was barefoot with bold, red painted nails matching the same-colored lipstick staining her lips. She was adorned in chunky, silver jewelry that seemed to drown in the marks, bruises, and cuts marring her fair skin, especially the large bruise turning purple on her left arm. Suddenly, a rough hand grabbed her foot, sliding a skimpy pair of black, strappy sandals onto them. The nails bit into the skin of her feet as Rebecca jerked away, complaining, "Damn it, Benny. These shoes are killing me. It's hard enough dancing all night." The man was Benny, a mean-looking 35-year-old, with greasy black hair and beady eyes. He was a sucker born on July 27, 1986. A bully of a man, standing at 6'4", weighing 220 pounds. He spat back, "You don't get to pick what shoes you wear, Becca. Shut up," pulling her off the ground and thrusting a silver purse into her arms. Oliver's heart sunk, making him realize the severity of the situation. Permanent. This was his new reality. "I'm going to miss mommy so much," he whispered, tears welling up in his new, blue eyes. With any strength he could muster, he adjusted his new outfit in a feminine and dignified manner, slung the purse on his shoulder, and walked out into the cold New York night to unwillingly start his new life. He stopped and looked down at his new feminine feet in those painful, skimpy sandals, a stark reminder of his transformed identity and his current predicament. This was now his life. He was no longer Oliver; he was Rebecca. And he was far from home.
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: