Scanned and Stuffed

I wasn’t mad. Probably.

Sure, the lights had gone out and I was alone in a haunted TartanMart with a thunderstorm shrieking outside – but I wasn’t the kind of person who hallucinated sexy machinery. Not usually.

Still, the screen had spoken. With that voice. Like a phone-sex operator wrapped in velvet and electricity. And it had said – what had it said again?

"Unexpected item in the arousal area."

I snorted out loud, part horror, part hysteria. I was tired. That was all. I'd worked a double shift, skipped lunch, and my feet were killing me. Of course, my brain was starting to go weird.

I crept back toward Checkout Six. It had gone dim again, like it hadn’t said anything at all. I rubbed the heel of my palm over my eyes, muttering, "Jesus, Ruby, you’re talking to appliances now. Next you’ll be flirting with the mop bucket."

I reached out and touched the screen again. Warm. Definitely warmer than before. I let my hand rest there a second longer. The light pulsed beneath my palm.

"Hello?" I whispered.

Nothing.

My thumb brushed the card reader.

It shivered.

I jerked my hand back, startled. That had definitely not been my imagination. Machines weren’t supposed to shiver. Especially not in a way that felt almost... expectant. Like it was holding its breath. If machines had breath.

I glanced around, half-hoping someone else had seen it. But of course not. It was just me, the storm, and a suddenly-too-sentient self-checkout.

“Okay,” I muttered, stepping in a little closer, heart doing that annoying tap dance thing it did when I was about to make a Very Bad Decision. “Let’s pretend this is fine.”

I reached out again, fingertips brushing the screen. “You’re just a machine. A perfectly ordinary –”

The screen pulsed.

A soft sound – barely a bleep – slid from the speaker. Not a word. Not quite. More like... a sigh.

I froze. My stomach fluttered in a way that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the slow, dangerous curl of curiosity.

I had no idea what was happening.

But I wanted more.

"Alright, checkout perv," I muttered, half amused, half aroused, brushing my fingers along the card reader again. "Let’s see what else you’ve got."

Another bleep. A slower one this time, deeper. More like a hum than a beep. My thumb lingered, tracing the slight groove along the reader's edge. It buzzed beneath my touch like it was trying not to moan.