>You've recently moved into a neighborhood with a subpar reputation for crime, so you've decided to buy a pocket pistol
>After some time searching you end up buying a Chiappa Rhino 200DS, since you love Mateba barrels.
>Of course you don't want to wait for someone to steal all of your shit so you expedite that bitch 
>A few days later you pick up your brand new revolver at the local gun store and return home, doing a quick check and placing it on the table
>Being Anon you've unpacked all of your gaming shit beforehand and you sit at your desk on the computer with headphones on
>Halfway in you hear a muffled crash, and deciding it's just some shitty boxes full of your shitty things you ignore it
>Then you feel tugging on your pant leg, and pushing away fearfully from the desk, a tiny little blonde thing, that you can only assume is a girl by the length of her hair is looking at you, tears in her eyes
Sorry for the mess... 
>She says, looking at you from a kneeling position
>The more you study her the more she looks like she could only be a child, maybe six or seven
>Who are you? You ask, a bit frightened that a child got into your house
I'm your revolver...
>She says, her gray eyes looking into yours
>You take a moment to process things, and then quickly get up to check on your Chiappa. 
>ohshititsgonezo.jpg
>You return to where the girl is, who is now sitting on the floor 
>You're still a bit confused, but get a bit curious, 
>S-so you're the gun I just bought?
Yes signore... is there something wrong with me? 
>She gets a fearful look on her face
>N-no...! 
>You don't know how to proceed
>Are you... hungry or something?
>The little thing nods and gets up, and you get a full view of her ensemble 
>She's wearing a large sweater, maybe too large for her, and sweatpants, that seem an ok size 
>She walks up to you, and puts her tiny hand in yours, holding onto your fingers
>You walk out into the rest of your apartment, past the living room and into the open kitchen
>Making your way over to the cabinet you open it and realize you don't even have any food in the entire apartment
>A thought enters your head: What do guns, or whatever the girl is, eat?
>That doesn't matter though, you still need to get food for yourself, so you turn to the toddler, who you probably have to give a name sooner or later
>I need to go to the supermarket, are you OK staying here... by yourself or whatever?
No! Let me come with you!
>She says, running over to you and grabbing your leg.
>You stare down at the top of her head and begin to pat it
>Ok.. but sooner or later you're gonna have to stay home
Ok ok!
>She says excitedly 
>You look through all your moving boxes and eventually find the 9mm ammo, and pick up the toddler, eventually finding yourself holding your original revolver. 
>The transition is a big freaky, and you need a few minutes to confirm you are in fact holding a revolver and not attempting to put 9mm Parabellum into a small child
>You pop out the cylinder and load the rounds, pressing the cylinder back in line and realizing you don't have the right holster for the revolver you just stuff it in your waistband and pull your shirt over it 
>You make your way onto the streets and begin a walk to the supermarket, reaching it after a few minutes
>You return home with bags of TV dinners, chips and drinks, 
>Pulling Chiappa out of your waistband and suddenely seeing a little toddler appear still frightens you, but you might get used to it 
What did you buy?
>She asks inquisitvely, unable to look over the counter
>You put all of the food away and pick up Chiappa and put her on the counter. The sleeves of her sweater are longer than her arms, giving her an adorable noodly appearance 
>How was being CC'd?
I liked it very much signore, I hope we could do it again
>She says with an adorable smile 
>You pick her up and the transformation is a lot more seamless for you. You pull out the cartridges and place Chiappa back on the counter. 
>Hold on a second, I'm going to do a bit of research.
>You sit at the computer and look up only what you could 
>"Help my gun turned into a girl what do I do?"
>After some quick reading you rub your faace
>All of these stories of slutty Slavic guns, the really angry German guns 
>You get stuck with a six year old
>You can't fuck your own gun
>Night falls and you rub your eyes. Reading stories about living G3s and the seven foot tall PTRS girls tires you out something firece. And it gives you a wicked boner occassionally, which you aren't proud of.
>You slide into your bed with all the grace of a wingless swan and close your eyes. 
>Eventually your blissful sleep is broken by Chiappa tugging on your sheets. 
I heard something... 
>She says with fear in her voice, her eyes glistening in the night
>You roll out of bed sluggishly and pick up Chiappa, and she seems quite a deal heavier
>You stalk through your dark apartment, turning on lights as you go, checking your corners
>Eventually after opr8'n your entire apartment, nothing turns up and you put down Chiappa 
>You rub your eyes again and stare. She's different. Not only is she taller but she's... more developed. Like, post-pre-pubescence. And is that a horn?
Is there something wrong?
>You stick your hand out and put a gentle finger on the tip of the protrusion, a sizable black spike. 
>Chiappa shudders, look at your hand
>You're fully engrossed in whatever it is poking out from her hair and you put a full hand on it, gripping it
>Chiappa purrs slightly, which snaps you back to reality, pulling your hand away and wiping it on your shirt, feeling a bit dirty
S-sorry... I guess there was no one
>Chiappa says, blushing and folding her arms, turning away from you
>You rub the back of your head, give her a pat on the shoulder and return to bed.
>Then you woken up again.
>And again.
>And again.
>At one point you snap, threatening to lock Chiappa in a gun safe and only taking her out to clean.
>Finally you get some solid sleep, waking up late in the morning. 
>You wake up to a bright bedroom, the sun poking up above the skyline. You flex your toes and stretch a bit, eventually pulling yourself from the comforts of the bed
>Yawning as you rub your face and collect yourself, you note that a door would be a good investment for the bedroom, as soon as you get a job. 
>As you walk through the empty doorway you begin to think you were a bit mean to Chiappa last night, and should probably apologize with kind words or some pancakes or whatever.
>You also slightly hope that whatever that horn thing you saw was, that it would be gone by today.
>Eventually making your way into the kitchen you see Chiappa sitting on the couch, she seems extremely tired. Her eyes are nearly closed and it's almost like she's snoring.
>You slowly make your way over and nudge Chiappa, trying to get her to wake up or snap out of whatever trance she's in
Good.... good morning Anon...
>She says, issuing a loud and hearty yawn. 
>Chiappa, have you been awake all night? 
Mhm.
>She nods, a bit ashamed
>Come on Chiappa, you need sleep
But I'm a pocket pistol! I need to be awake to protect you!
>She pouts, folding her arms.
>While she's doing this, you notice it poking out from her forehead, the weird horn thing, still jet black and pretty big, maybe four or five inches of what from last night you could only assume was like bone. 
>You almost want to touch it again but remember the debacle last night and don't want to feel lewd again.
>Hey, I have to give you a name other than Chiappa, right?
Y-you don't have to... 
>She says, a bit red from the question 
>Well... nothing comes to mind right about now, so do you want breakfast? 
O-ok Anon.
>You get up and move over to the kitchen, searching your recently stocked cabinets for cereal or something.
>You pull out a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, a childhood favorite and rip it open, pulling a bowl from another cabinet as you do so. 
>You place everything down and reach in to grab a carton of milk from the fridge, opening it and pouring it into the awaiting bowl. 
>You follow up with a cascade of cereal, and removing a spoon from the cutlery drawer completes the dish.
>You call Chiappa over and you watch as she walks to the counter and struggles to get onto a stool. She may have gotten bigger overnight but she's still tiny.
>You move behind her and hoist her up by the arms and place her on the stool infront of the cereal
Thank you Anon.
>Chiappa begins to spin the spoon in the bowl of milk and cereal, as if she was in a trance. Little by little you watch her eyelids close and her hand stop. 
>Sighing, you pick up Chiappa, who you still need to name and carry her to your bed and slide her under the covers, closing the blinds to keep it dark for her.
>You sit at the counter alone eating cereal, considering everything that's happened. And yet another thought enters your brain. If Chiappa has a horn for being a Rhino and having a prominent front sight... what is her Mateba Barrel? 
>A number of lewd thoughts enter your mind that you quickly dispell. You just give up at this point and check your watch. You have plenty of time to do absolutely nothing, so might as well try to find a job.
>After some time on the computer you fuck off to watch shitty youtube vids of whatever, but even after that you get bored.
>Pushing away from the desk you remember that Chiappa has been asleep for a really long time, and you should probably check on her. 
>You make your way into your room, well, hers for the time being, and notice she's still sleeping blissfully. You realize you've been to hard on her and sit down on the bed next to her and nudge her shoulder.
>Psst, Chiappa
Mmmphh?
>She says, her eyes opening for a bit as she draws the covers over herself even more, trying to go back to sleep.
>For something so small she sure does sleep a lot. You nudge her again and lean in
>Hey, wanna go to the range?
Anon..?
>She says, turning in the sheets to look up at you, her hair a mess and those dark grey eyes sparkling in the dim light 
>Come on, I haven't even fired you yet, let's go to the range.
O-ok.
>You grab Chiappa and move to the living room and pop out her cylinder and check for anything dirty since you last made an attempt to clean her. Which pops into your head. You never really disassembled her.
>You take out your tools and begin to take her apart, slowly at first. As you pit bits down you see flashes of what look like clothes, but you dismiss it. 
>You eventually scrub everything down and reassemble Chiappa and put her down and she transforms infront of you... but something seems off.
>Her clothes are askew and uneven across her body and she's panting, her face beet red. She seems dazed beyond recognition.
>Chiappa are you ok..?
A-aah...
>She seems to be unable to utter anything more than a squeak as she struggles to keep herself sitting up straight on the table. 

god that was a long pause

>"Chiappa... are you ok?" You ask, a bit concerned that you messed something up or didn't put her back together correctly
"A-anon you p-perv..." Chiappa says, curling up in a ball and breathing heavily. From what you can see, her face is still just as red.
>"Oh gosh did I do something wrong? Did I put the hammer back in incorrectly?" You barrage her with questions, trying to find the root of the problem
"You just put me on the table and... started stripping me.." 
>"That's how you clean gu-" And then the realization hits you. You did see clothes on the table as you took her apart and cleaned her. You feel a bit sick, and need to turn around for a minute.
>"Oh my god Chiappa I'm so sorry l-let me get you into bed again..." 
>You quickly grab Chiappa, scooping her up and holding her tight, slowly shuffling over to your bedroom, which you still need a door for.
>Standing by the side of the bed you lay her back down to where you picked her up earlier and cover her with sheets, sitting in the chair next to the bed to make sure she's totally OK.
>As you sit there you begin to feel really bad now, and you haven't even shot her yet. You groan and rub your face, questioning why of all people, you got the 13 year old girl.
>Time passes slowly, and it seems like an eternity before Chiappa falls into a regular sleep, her breathing short and quiet.
>You stare at her, that cute little horn and her messy hair. You smile weakly.
>"What am I going to do with you.."
>You get up, deciding Chiappa is fine and move over to your computer, spending the rest of your time researching Waffengeists and figuring out what to do and what not to do.
>Soon enough the entire apartment is dark and the night is starry, so you decide to call it a day. With Chiappa occupying the entire bed, and you not really wanting to make things even worse, you decide a nap on the couch couldn't be the worst thing in the world.
>Your eyes open slowly, the light filtering in from the windows. You lie still for a moment and listen to the soft breathing coming from your, well Chiappa's room.
>Yawning you roll off the couch and stand up in the living room, flexing your toes and stretching your arms, cracking your knuckles.
>"What to do today..." You ponder and you trudge over to the doorway into the bedroom. 
>Peeking your head into the bedroom you watch Chiappa's chest rise and fall. She's really cute now that you think about it. Her hair coiling around that horn sticking out is almost as mesmerizing as her eyes.
>You walk into the bedroom and sit on the bed and begin to rub her head softly, running your hand through her hair. 
>"Psst, Chiappa wake up." You nudge her with your other hand, poking her shoulder.
"Mmmph... Anon?"
>"Let's go to the range, no unwanted stripping, ok?"
"Uh...." She groans, turning in the sheets. "Ok.."
>You shake her on the shoulders to get her up and pick her up by the shoulders and sit her on the bed.
>"Ok, are you ready to go or do you want breakfast or something?"
She looks up excitedly "I want pancakes."
>"Chiappa those are gonna take a while to make, can't we go to iHop or something?"
"I want you to make them Anon."
>"Chiappa come on, there's an iHop like, two blocks away."
"Nuh!" She retorts, folding her arms and pouting
>"Fine, give me a couple of minutes." 
>You walk into the kitchen, a bit confused on how to make pancakes. 
>You pull out pancake mix, thank god you have that.
>After what seems like eons you finally procure a bowl and the nessecary ingredients, and you haven't even started yet.
>You follow the instructions as best as you can, mixing it furiously, spilling some mix everywhere.
>Out of the corner your eye you see Chiappa walk in and struggle to get onto the stool. After a Herculean struggle her head pops over the counter and she watches you mix.
"Anon can I help?" Chiappa says, looking on curiously
>You nod and walk over, picking her up in your arms and carrying over to the bowl, letting her try.
"Anon it's hard."
>"Well just try a bit harder then."
>Your words come to fruition, as Chiappa jerks her arms and spills the entire bowl, pancake batter spilling all over you, but more specifically all over the small girl you're holding in your arms. 
"Oh gosh it's gross!" She crys out, squirming in your arms.
>"Oh crap let me clean this up." You run over to the counter to grab a ton of paper towels and begin to clean up the batter, with Chiappa still in your arms.
>You manage to clean up most of it and begin to clean off Chiappa as best you can, putting her down when you're done.
>"Shit, Chiappa do you need some new clothes?" You worry, will your gun be covered in pancake mix when you try to use her?
"A-anon no it's OK, you have something, right?" She says, trying to get as much off of her long sleeves as possible
>"I think I have s-something but it might be too big for you." You rush away to your closet and grab an old college sweatshirt, that's gotta be multiple sizes too big, but it's fine enough.
>You return and begin to pull of Chiappa's pancake stained sweatshirt and throw it behind you. Chiappa isn't wearing a shirt and her face is growing red but that doesn't matter. You pull the sweatshirt over her, helping her get her arms and head through it, which itself is a struggle.
>After pulling it over her completely, you realize how fucking big it is on her. The hood could fit two of her own heads and the sleeves are almost bigger than her arms. She looks adorable.
>"Ok, I'm all cleaned up, and so are you. But we have no pancakes. Do you want to go to iHop now?"
"Nuh, I wanna watch a movie now."
>You sigh and die a little inside. You're starting to think she doesn't even want to be shot.
>"Ok, what do you want to watch then?"
"Uhhh... what do you wanna watch?"
>You die a little inside again. "We'll find something, ok?" 
>You scoop up Chiappa and carry her over to the couch you last slept on, sitting down on it with Chiappa on your lap.
>You grab the remote and begin flipping through whatever is available and settle on a marathon of John Wayne movies.
>The John Wayne movies are about as cheesy as you would expect. You can't help but giggle at the writing.
>Chiappa seems to be enjoying it to, but mostly for the fact that she likes looking at the other guns in the movie. 
>Soon enough the movies get so boring and repetitve that Chiappa starts to doze off in your arms, eventually falling asleep.
>You take this moment to give her a quick kiss on the top of her head, and you decide to stay still, and eventually you too fall asleep, the grip of slumber overpowering you
>Some time later you wake up and Chiappa is not far behind. Her eyes open and she yawns softly, adjusting herself against you as if you were the sofa.
>"Psst Chiappa, are we finally going to go to the range?" You whisper as she is woken up.
"Ok. Let's go now." 
>You pick Chiappa up in your arms, and you have to remind her that in order to shoot her, she has to be a gun. 
>You stick Chiappa in your waistband, thinking you'll probably buy a holster for her later, cause right now you look like an OG. 
>The range is a really far walk away but it's the only one in miles and right now you don't have a car. 
>After a brisk three mile walk you arrive at the range. You enter the heavenly air conditioned lobby and walk over to the counter, ordering a handfull of 9mm and a paper target.
>You put on earpro and safety goggles and walk into a firing lane, popping out Chiappa's cylinder and loading in six rounds. 
>"Are you ready?" You whisper to no one, but hoping Chiappa would notice. 
>You raise the gun, aim downrange and slow your breathing. Squeezing the trigger slowly.
>40 yards downrange you can just barely make out a little hole, a little off from the center.
>You try again, this time with better results. You rinse and repeat.
>You go through about 18 rounds of 9mm, eventually deciding the put her down and take a breather.
>"How did you like it, Chiappa?"
>She appears in an instant, grinning like an idiot, her face tinted with red
"I liked it a lot.

>"I'm kind of curious Chiappa, how does it feel to be shot?" 
"It.. it feels really nice Anon, thank you." She says grinning from ear to ear 
>"How about a little more then?" You say, picking Chiappa back up, expending her brass and loading the last six cartridges.
>You take aim and go all out, trying to see how accurate you can be, loving the feeling of the recoil going right into your wrist.
>You finish completely, all of out bullets. You put down Chiappa and watch as her smile reappears. 
>"Hey, I was thinking of getting you a holster so I don't have to stuff you in my pants all the time, is there anything you want?"
"I want you to get a shoulder holster. I really like those."
>"Oh... ok." You were thinking she'd ask for something a bit more normal or orthodox like just a hip holster, but hey, as long as you don't have to shove a loaded gun into your pants anymore. 
>After a few minutes of searching for the right thing, you buy it from the range, strap it on and stuff Chiappa inside of it. She fits snugly and you're sure she'd like it in there for the time being. 
>The walk is home is perfectly normal,