A scare

Steve woke upfeeling fully awake and ready for the day—no grogginess, no need for that morning ritual, thanks to the Rulebook's tweak. Luckily, today was his day off, a rare Saturday free from TechNova's grind, so he could do whatever the hell he wanted. After a quick shower and breakfast of leftover pizza (old habits die hard), he decided on a shopping spree—specifically, sex toys to experiment with his female form. But should he go as a man or a woman? The mischief won out; he'd play a trick on whoever was working at the store. He dressed in something neutral that could work for both forms: loose jeans, a baggy hoodie, sneakers—casual enough to blend, versatile for the shifts.

Pulling up to the mall in the BRZ, Steve headed inside, the parking lot bustling with weekend shoppers. A few women catcalled him—"Hey, handsome, got plans?"—and even more futanari joined in, one pear-shaped beauty whistling from a bench, her bulge shifting as she eyed him up. It made him blush, a warm flush creeping up his neck; the attention rule felt great, that twisted craving hitting just right.

The adult store was tucked in the back corner of the mall, somehow grandfathered in with a stern "No Minors Allowed" sign and heavy curtains blocking prying eyes. Inside, it was a wonderland of debauchery: shelves lined with toys of every shape and hue, lubes in exotic flavors, magazines stacked high, BDSM gear hanging like art. One thing that had always intrigued him was the Aneros prostate massager—curved for that extra stimulation. "Fuck it," he thought, grabbing the biggest model and the recommended water-based lube.

At the register, the cashier was a cute blonde with piercings glinting in her nose and lips, tattoos snaking up her arms—a free spirit type perfect for the gig. Her voice was deep for a woman, husky as she rang him up. "Hey bro, night of fun for you?" she teased, smirking.

Steve grinned, swiping his card. "Thanks, yeah—something new."

"Understandable," she replied, licking her lips. "Exploration is exhilarating." The transaction done, he bagged his purchases and left, heart pounding with the plan.

Back in the car, he checked the mirrors—no one around. "Female form," he willed, the shift rippling through him painlessly: height dipping to 5'7, curves softening modestly, hair lengthening slightly. She adjusted the seat a tad, then headed back inside the store, acting casual.

The blonde did a double-take as she approached the counter again. "Hey there, cutie," the cashier teased automatically, then blinked, confusion flickering. Did I just hit on a chick? she thought, shaking it off. Steve had no idea, browsing anew like it was her first visit.

Eyes landed on dildos—various sizes calling out. She settled on a normal-sized one for starters and a massive futanari-sized beast, endorsed by none other than Gianna Michaels herself. It was basically a molded replica of her obscene 14-inch cock, thick as a soda can, packaged with a holographic sticker boasting "Gianna's Signature Slammer—Feel the Real Deal!" Steve chuckled inwardly, the sound escaping as a girlish giggle. Giggles? That's new, his male brain voice noted, amused.

She also grabbed the king of vibrators—the Hitachi Magic Wand, the one women always bragged about online for its powerhouse buzz. Heading to the counter, the blonde exclaimed, "You aren't gonna believe this, but a guy was just in here wearing the same outfit!"

"Omg, twinsies?" Steve joked in her higher lilt, pulling out the card to pay.

The cashier laughed, bagging it up. "Have a fun night." Steve left, stifling laughter all the way to the car. Hopping in, she couldn't hold it anymore—cackling at the prank's success. Time for lunch; she revved toward his favorite Chinese place, craving some General Tso's.

But en route, red and blue lights flashed in the rearview. Pulled over. Heart sinking, Steve—as she—rolled down the window as the cop approached. "License and registration, ma'am."

She handed over the wallet's contents—Steve's male ID and insurance. The cop scanned it, face hardening. "Are you joking right now? Miss... this is a male's ID."

"Oh shit," Steve thought, freezing. Then, improvising: "Oh, officer, I must have took my husband's wallet—how clumsy of me!"

The cop nodded slowly. "So Steve is your husband, and this is his car?"

"Yes, that's correct—he bought me this car," she replied, batting lashes for effect.

For some reason—maybe the attention rule bleeding over, or just leniency—the cop softened. "Listen, the reason I pulled you over was your taillight is out. The car looks new, so I figured you didn't notice. I won't write you a ticket this time. Consider it a friendly warning. Get that taillight fixed." He handed back the documents.

"I will, officer—thank you," Steve said gratefully.

Once the cop drove off, she found a quiet backroad, pulled over, and shifted back to male form with a relieved sigh. "Close one," he muttered, then continued to the Chinese spot, grabbing takeout without further incident. Home awaited, toys in tow—the real fun about to begin.