Hyper Ranma: Hyper Policewoman [Episode 47189]

The costume which Ranma selected was, of course, not entirely a “standard issue” police uniform.   The skirt fell a little bit short of regulations, the sleeveless sleeve-cuffs looked more at home on a bar hostess’ “bunny” costume, and the fishnet stockings were right out of place.   To be precisely accurate, it was more of a sexy cosplay outfit and Ranma felt more than a bit dubious about what sort of “new start” such a cursed costume could promise.

Still, given the alternatives, she was sure that it was likely the least of a dozen evils.   It was nary as skimpy as the gauzy “Arabian Nights” outfits, nowhere near as risquéé, or risky, as the furry cosplay stuff, and while not as cool as the bat-winged costume, at least the loose white cotton blouse would cover her cleavage.   Certainly the supposed profession promised a better chance of retaining her hard earned skills than the schoolgirl, stewardess, naughty nurse, or other suits.

So Ranma shucked off her usual clothes for what might be the last time, than reluctantly began to change.   Her legs slipped into stockings, which were pulled tight to shape every line and curve.   With the waist band pulled up, the stocking fit snuggly and disturbingly comfortably over her crotch.   Blushingly, Ranma hurried to pull on the leather crotch cover, which zipped into place like a pair of tight gym shorts and emphasised her butt cheeks.   The short skirt was quickly slipped into place, the belt pulled tight to pinch her waistline into the classic hourglass figure, and Ranma tried not to think about how feminine it all made her feel.

She hesitated over the powder blue bra, which was several cups too large after all, but she finally decided that it was safer to wear the entire outfit provided than to mess around with magic.   In a practiced motion she snapped on the oversized maximiser bra and was not too surprised by the way it enhanced her bosom.   Embarrassed for sure, but not at all surprised.   The formerly loose blouse had to be stretched over her bustline and the buttons strained dangerously when she breathed in; but the material held.   At least the double breast pockets totally concealed her nipple peaks; although it was the layers of silk and cotton rubbing against them that made them stand upright in the first place.

Trying not to jiggle, Ranma pulled on the finishing touches: the vest jacked, the sleeveless cufflinks, the knee high leather boots, and the hip holstered toy gun.   Only the high peaked cap remained and Ranma paused to examined herself in the Changing Room mirror before doffing it.

The woman looking back out at her was a more mature adult.   The adult her was a barely recognisable stranger until Ranma finally slipped on the cap, then everything fell into place.   Ranma picked up her clothes and stepped through the looking glass.

Picking up her martial artist costume, Ranma exited the changing room and glided over to the counter in her customary hip swaying saunter.   She was pleasantly surprised by the price but confused by the comment that it was “change for a dollar” when she’d paid in yen.   Still, a bargain was a bargain no matter how odd the gnome behind the counter acted.

Her leather boots hit the pavement, and she stepped livelily towards the private police company where she worked.   She ignored the leers and werewolf whistles.   Her exaggeratedly feminine figure forced her hips to roll with each step no matter what she did, and it of times drew unwanted admiring glances.   Still, Ranma always felt that if she had it she should flaunt it and, besides, the conspicuous firearm slapping on her hip was a clear warning to anyone who thought to do more than stare at her wriggling butt.

Ranma stopped, placed a fist on her hip, and looked about with a rueful pout.   She’d gotten a costume for the party, but had forgotten to get the present!

Disgusted with herself for getting distracted, which was no way for a bounty hunter to behave, Ranma scanned the street.   Idly noting that there seemed to be more monsters about with each passing day, her eyes slid over the spectacles that greeted them with no more than passing interest.   A flamboyant gnoll pimped out in feathered broad brimmed hat and lots of bling bling argued with a bugbear traffic warden while his girls lounged decoratively in his sports car behind him.   Further down the street, a medusa supermodel stepped out of her limousine to receive the royal treatment from a squidish jeweler while his minotaur security guards looked on dangerously.   Up the street an ogre tried unsuccessfully to blend in with the crowd, but nobody wearing a pulled up trench coat and pulled down fedora could remain inconspicuous outside of an old private eye drama.

Yet sordid, sophisticated, or suspicious, it was really none of Ranma’s concern until a bounty was posted.   Besides, she was more interested in finding the perfect gift shop.   Something special, something not too wierd, something she could actually afford.

Then her eyes found it!