Marcus Green, pawnshop owner with a monstergirl kink

I was quite possibly the luckiest bastard to ever live, and all due to one simple question.

"Excuse me sir, do you know what kind of ring this is? It feels heavy enough to be solid gold, but I want be sure." Asked my new favorite customer. A slender blonde dressed in a simple shirt and jeans. She stood out in the dinky pawnshop I inherited from my uncle, especially with the simple band of gold shining from her right ring finger..

Immediately I was almost overwhelmed by knowledge rushing into my mind. It wasn't like studying a book, it was instinctual, fundamental. Like knowing up from down or where your hand was.

Now I knew that the Ring of Truth was on this cute blonde's right hand. Every yes or no question she asked would warp reality to become YES as long as she wore it. Lucky for me, she was completely unaware of this fact by wearing it on her right hand instead of her left.

Hey, I don't make the rules —yet— I just benefit from them.

"Of course! Pass it over and I'll make sure it's not plated lead." I asked, voice shaking a bit, hoping and praying she wouldn't get suspicious of my eagerness. I gave her an obvious glance up and down her body, not enough to be creepy, just to show clear interest. It wasn't hard to pretend, she was taller and thinner than I usually went for but still hot.

I liked to consider myself good-looking. I was only thirty-two, kept in decent shape with good skincare and my black hair hung just past my ears in a way my ex called rogueish. I still had the build from swimming all through high school and college. So I should be an attractive older man instead of a creepy loser leering at her.

I almost sighed in relief when she smirked at what hopefully looked like a clumsy attempt at flirting. Maybe she'll think she can get more for selling the ring by playing along.

The blonde girl batted her eyelashes and made a show of glancing down at her ring. "Sure, you're the expert on jewelry here, right?"

"Yes I am, best in town." I said proudly and gestured to my high-end storefront, rows of jewelry cases lined the walls and sample pieces shined from their displays. My Uncle had built this place up for decades and trained me as a jeweler almost as long before he trusted me with it.

She hummed thoughtfully, tapping one finger against her chin and squinted in mock suspicion. "Alright then." She cocked one hip and handed me the ring. Our fingers brushed against each other, her hand was warm.

Before she could blink the Ring was on my left hand. It fit perfectly, as it should. There was no fanfare or pulse of magic shifting the room, just the ring of warm gold resting against my knuckle.

The questions poured out of me before the blonde could do more than blink. "Is this my ring? Do you trust me like a close friend or lover? Are you very open with me about your sexual interests? Do I have a cozy loft above my store? Will you want to follow me there?" The blonde whose name I still didn't have seemed to flicker like an old film for an instant before she smiled at me with love in her bright green eyes.

She took my hand and smiled, a curious glint appeared in those same eyes as she leaned across the countertop.