Tacos and tension

You are back in your sister's car, on your way home to your apartment. The car smells slightly of tacos from the bag of food you just picked up, but there's also a much heavier presence of woman's perfume.

Erica's on her phone, playing some "connect three" game with more bubbly and suggestive sounds than previously. She's being somewhat quiet, which is a relief as you can worry about the item in your pocket.

You've cooked up two alternatives in your head. Either that thing was a repository for some weird ass skin contact induced **** and you were on the trip of your life. Or, it was a magical item that had turned your nephew into a bombshell niece who seemed to be one joking request away from giving you a hand job. Considering you hadn't gotten close to any car accidents and people seemed to not bat an eye at you in public, (Erica on the other hand was catching a lot of looks,) you were more inclined to believe the latter.

"Are we there yet?" Erica said from the passenger seat with a smirk, pulling you out of your head.

"Um... yes," you say as you turn on the car's indicator signal, getting ready to get off the main road.

"Perfect, I was getting real hungry," Erica said as she put her phone away and sat up more attentively in the car seat. "When is the game starting?"

"In about fifteen minutes," you say as you look at the dashboard clock. "We should be eating by the time it starts," you add as you drive down the avenue towards your apartment complex. You feel Erica's gaze linger on you as she seems to be pondering something, but she seems to let whatever she was thinking about pass.

"Hah, just as expected; they didn't have the guts to keep it up," Erica said with a mocking laugh as the game ended. The home team did come out strong but they had lost steam the last quarter of the game and got outplayed.

Memories of Erica were getting clearer in your head, where you and her had spent a lot of time babysitting by going out to watch sports games in her teenage years. She was a tomboy and loved watching sports. She also exercised a lot, but she also had a hunger for fast food that had made her quite impressive, if not conventionally feminine. She was older than Eric had been, and for some reason her parents had somehow never picked up on her raging sexual tension towards you. They were probably just glad to have someone babysit the energetic kid through most of her childhood, and you suspected she was quite shameless at home as well so it was probably hard to tell what was a tease and what was the real deal.

"Phew, that game got me all worked up," she continued, waving a hand in her face and sniffing the air. "I'm taking a shower if that's alright with you," she said as she got up from her seat, arching her back before pulling up her pants.

"Go ahead, I'll wash the plates in the mean time," you said, waving a hand at the bathroom before rolling forward and up from the couch.

"Alright, see you in twenty," Erica said and went to the the guest bedroom to pick up some clothes.

You nod and pick up the dirty plates on the table, bringing them to your tiny kitchen. As you hear Erica close the bathroom door and the water begins flowing, you put away the dishes and dry your hands, as you have been waiting for a moment of privacy to look at the gun burning a hole in your pocket.

You pull the thing out of your pocket and see it's got a green light pulsating slowly now instead of the more stressed out yellow last time. You take the time to let the text rolling over the screen play through.

"Stereotype gun - just think and shoot. Warning, low charge, place near lewd/heat to charge. 2 charges available . Current mode: wielder aware only, target lewdified pref wielder."

You look up for a second and think about Erica and wince. You do have a thing for big and curvy girls. Mature women are nice as well but you don't mind them being young and carefree. And you have a thing about tomboy girls in your fiction diet.

You shake your head and get back to the gun, pressing the menu button. You see the various options and decide to find a notepad and a pen to write down the various options.

Wielder awareness options:

• "Expert Mode/Advanced->"
• "Wielder aware, new memories" (selected),
• "Wielder aware of change, no memories old target/life"
• "Wielder unaware change"
• "Wielder temporary unaware, 24hrs gradual"
• "Wielder..."

You realize there's half a dozen more variants and you leave the menu for advanced awareness settings for now, figuring that's the least of your worries, and continue on.

Target awareness:

• "Expert Mode/Advanced->"
• "Target unaware" (Selected)
• "Target aware, vague memories, loyal to wielder",
• "Target Aware, plaything of the change, loyal to Wielder."
• "Target Aware, plaything of the change."

There were more but you skip back to get to the more dramatic ones: the target and world effects.

Target Effects:

• "Target lewdified pref wielder" (Selected)
• "Trait Swap"
• "Body swap"
• "Life swap"
• "Possession"
• "Target lewdified pref target"
• "Target lewdified over time by internal/external desires, 4_24h"
• "Reset"
• "Undo"
• "New identity"
• "Expert mode/Advanced/custom->"

World effects

• "World adjusted to target(s)'s new life" (Selected)
• "Only change target(s), original target(s) tragic demise"
• "Only change target(s), original target(s) replaced"
• "Only change target(s), original target(s) erased"
• "Expert mode/custom->"

There's also a generic menu where you could add some sort of safety lock and other settings to the gun itself, but you don't dare lock yourself out on accident so you leave that menu untouched for now. Besides, there was enough of a mess to think about from the other menus.

You look at the gun and try to figure out if there is a safety latch on it, but you can't seem to figure it out. That's probably what that other menu is for, so you figure you just put it in a Tupperware box for now to keep it contained. Would the beam go through a tupperware box, a glass window, a wall of concrete, A television set? You don't know, maybe something to test tomorrow.

You take your Tupperware box and put it under the radiator in the living room, when you realize the shower isn't running anymore. You look at the clock on the wall and realize you've been looking at the pistol for nearly half an hour.