*Possession Problems at the Pool*
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Title: *Possession Problems at the Pool*
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“Bro, you *cannot* just use your powers every time you see a hot chick,” I whispered, watching my best friend Mark gaze wistfully at the bikinied flock by the pool.
“Oh, but I can,” he grinned, eyes twinkling. “Watch and learn.”
Before I could protest, he locked eyes with *her*—the ultra-busty, radiant redhead in a Hawaiian floral bikini top and yellow bottom. She was chatting and laughing until suddenly, her eyes flicked wide and she jolted upright.
I knew the look. Mark was in. He wiggled her fingers, then ran a hand experimentally down his—well, *her*—sides. “Holy… I have hips!” he giggled. In her voice.
I groaned. “Mark. Mark, get out of her before you do something stupid.”
He tried, closing those stunning green eyes and focusing. Nothing. He tried again—frown deepening.
“Uh,” she said, voice shaky, “I… can’t.”
“Wait, what?”
“I can’t get out!” he hissed, squeezing her temples.
Now *I* was panicking. “Dude, try harder!”
Mark—now the atomic redhead—squeezed, clenched, and even hopped once on those long legs. “It’s like I’m glued in here! I can feel everything. This is so weird.”
“You should at least find out *who* you are, in case you have an appointment or a pet or whatever. Check her purse for an ID!”
Redhead Mark stumbled to a lounger, fished a neon tote, and rummaged around. “Ooh, lip balm. Ooh, gum. Ooh—here it is. ‘Ashley O’Connell. Age 36. Height…No way!’”
“What?”
“She’s 5’10”! And—uh… bust 41, hips 39… Holy crap. Dude. Dude, I *am* a MILF!”
“Ow,” I groaned. “Do not say that again. Just…what now?”
Redhead Mark shrugged. Well, actually, Ashley’s body shrugged, jiggling a bit more than anyone was ready for. “Let’s go see my—her—house. Maybe there are clues to break the spell!”
Cut to her luxury SUV and ten minutes later, we’re staring up at the McMansion of suburbia.
I whistled. “I see why you got stuck. Luxury like this could suck the soul out of anyone.”
“There’s a *wine fridge* in the foyer,” Mark squealed, opening wildly expensive doors with keys Ashley’s gym bag had handily provided.
He wandered through airy rooms, eyeing abstracts, marble counters, and a giant hot tub out back. “How do people live like this?”
“She’s got a Peloton,” I pointed, walking in circles. “A *closet* just for shoes! I bet she’s got secret diamonds tucked into the sofa.”
Mark looked at me, a curl springing free from behind Ashley’s ear. “So… I’m a 36-year-old redhead with assets that require their own zip code, a house straight out of ‘Real Housewives,’ and a lifestyle that includes sipping Vino Verde while meditating to dolphin sounds.”
“And you can’t leave her body. At least not until you figure out *why*. Or… what, accept it?”
We gazed at her reflection in the massive mirror by the staircase. Mark bit her fluffy bottom lip, thinking. “Well, I always joked about being a trophy wife. Maybe it’s fate.”
“And to be honest?” he swiveled, inspecting the curves with growing admiration. “I don’t hate it. Gonna try out the hot tub with a glass of Chardonnay.”
He waggled her brows at me.
“Just don’t possess another MILF until you figure this out,” I said, shaking my head.
“Too late! I’m *living* the MILF life now, baby.”
Mark skipped upstairs, hips swaying, leaving me to wonder: Is there such a thing as *too* much power? And would he let me use her gym membership?
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 loads of dialogue My best friend loves his possession powers. He uses them all the time. Today me and him went to the pool to check out some girls and to have some fun. Out of nowhere he possessed this redhead MILF hottie In a Hawaiian flora bikini top e and yellow bikini bottoms with massive knockers and a peachy ass. Something is wrong though for some reason he can’t leave her body. He doesn't know what to do. I told him he should check her purse for Her ID or license to see what her name is. He sees his new measurements on the ID which shocks him as well to find out he is rocking quite the busty and curvy body. We went to her house to find that it is a massive four-bedroom house. He thought it was weird being 10 years older and being an ultra-busty woman but to live a life of luxury I think he can get used to it.
Response: Title: *Possession Problems at the Pool* --- “Bro, you *cannot* just use your powers every time you see a hot chick,” I whispered, watching my best friend Mark gaze wistfully at the bikinied flock by the pool. “Oh, but I can,” he grinned, eyes twinkling. “Watch and learn.” Before I could protest, he locked eyes with *her*—the ultra-busty, radiant redhead in a Hawaiian floral bikini top and yellow bottom. She was chatting and laughing until suddenly, her eyes flicked wide and she jolted upright. I knew the look. Mark was in. He wiggled her fingers, then ran a hand experimentally down his—well, *her*—sides. “Holy… I have hips!” he giggled. In her voice. I groaned. “Mark. Mark, get out of her before you do something stupid.” He tried, closing those stunning green eyes and focusing. Nothing. He tried again—frown deepening. “Uh,” she said, voice shaky, “I… can’t.” “Wait, what?” “I can’t get out!” he hissed, squeezing her temples. Now *I* was panicking. “Dude, try harder!” Mark—now the atomic redhead—squeezed, clenched, and even hopped once on those long legs. “It’s like I’m glued in here! I can feel everything. This is so weird.” “You should at least find out *who* you are, in case you have an appointment or a pet or whatever. Check her purse for an ID!” Redhead Mark stumbled to a lounger, fished a neon tote, and rummaged around. “Ooh, lip balm. Ooh, gum. Ooh—here it is. ‘Ashley O’Connell. Age 36. Height…No way!’” “What?” “She’s 5’10”! And—uh… bust 41, hips 39… Holy crap. Dude. Dude, I *am* a MILF!” “Ow,” I groaned. “Do not say that again. Just…what now?” Redhead Mark shrugged. Well, actually, Ashley’s body shrugged, jiggling a bit more than anyone was ready for. “Let’s go see my—her—house. Maybe there are clues to break the spell!” Cut to her luxury SUV and ten minutes later, we’re staring up at the McMansion of suburbia. I whistled. “I see why you got stuck. Luxury like this could suck the soul out of anyone.” “There’s a *wine fridge* in the foyer,” Mark squealed, opening wildly expensive doors with keys Ashley’s gym bag had handily provided. He wandered through airy rooms, eyeing abstracts, marble counters, and a giant hot tub out back. “How do people live like this?” “She’s got a Peloton,” I pointed, walking in circles. “A *closet* just for shoes! I bet she’s got secret diamonds tucked into the sofa.” Mark looked at me, a curl springing free from behind Ashley’s ear. “So… I’m a 36-year-old redhead with assets that require their own zip code, a house straight out of ‘Real Housewives,’ and a lifestyle that includes sipping Vino Verde while meditating to dolphin sounds.” “And you can’t leave her body. At least not until you figure out *why*. Or… what, accept it?” We gazed at her reflection in the massive mirror by the staircase. Mark bit her fluffy bottom lip, thinking. “Well, I always joked about being a trophy wife. Maybe it’s fate.” “And to be honest?” he swiveled, inspecting the curves with growing admiration. “I don’t hate it. Gonna try out the hot tub with a glass of Chardonnay.” He waggled her brows at me. “Just don’t possess another MILF until you figure this out,” I said, shaking my head. “Too late! I’m *living* the MILF life now, baby.” Mark skipped upstairs, hips swaying, leaving me to wonder: Is there such a thing as *too* much power? And would he let me use her gym membership?
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