New Maid Simulator 2016

>>75331
>>75450
>>75605
>>75645
>>76799

>Part 1/2

You find yourself leaning your head down to kiss Mistress's foot. Maybe it's because, after being so terrible to you, she's suddenly so nice and willing to explain everything you're wondering about that you've become so grateful. You even forget how you're basically on your knees for her. It hits you: Maybe she is right after all. You've been self-sacrificing for her. Now she's sacrificing her time to answer your questions. Maybe self-sacrifice really is the basis of true companionship! Ugh, now you're thinking like a crazy person. You're going to have to be careful to not become twisted in your head, spending so much time with a girl like Mistress.
"What is it with this house?" you ask her. "What kind of family are you? How did you earn your fortune? And what is it with these strange things I keep seeing? Those shiny, strange-looking books with paintings that look like the real thing? And the metallic creature in the hallway?"
Mistress laughs out loud. "Alfred? You saw Alfred? God, that could have gone so wrong!"
"W-what are you talking about, Mistress?"
"Alfred is one of my dad's old golems. He was supposed to guard the house entry or something like that, but since dad disappeared he has broken and is walking all over the house, attacking the servants. It's no big deal though. He is very easy to outrun. I'm not sure he's even that dangerous, but of course ... We all run like mad when we see him! There is no telling what he might do."
"Your father makes golems, Mistress?"
"Eh, not quite. He is a scientist and philosopher."
"So that was how you earned your fortune? What did he discover?"
"Don't stop massaging my foot!" she chastises you and you hurry up to keep going. "Our family has been rich for a few generations actually. I believe it started out with some very fortunate farming deals because we were on the correct side during the French revolution. This allowed us to invest in steel mining, weapons production, Eastern imports ... I believe we are making quite a few people's livelihood in Paris just having them run back and forth for us, putting our money the right place and watching it keep growing." She seems very amused by this idea, eyes glowing.
"Aha," you say.
"But my father. He was a scientist and philosopher. He was obsessed with determinism. Do you know what that is?"
"Dete-what?"
"Determinism. Of course you wouldn't. Poor people's genes. Honestly I think it is better I tell you this story on my father's term. It would be a little like an experiment. We could see if he was right." Mistress skips off the bed and goes into the drawing room. You get up on your feet and follow her in. She sits down in a big, really soft-looking chair with thick, red cushions that faces the window.
"Time to be my footstool," she says.

>>77915

>Part 2/2

You go down on your knees and crawl in front of her. She places her feet on your back. You blush.
"Well, my father believed that everything that happens, must happen. Placed in the same situation, under the same conditions, people will ultimately make the same choices. He thought the entire universe was like domino pieces falling on each other and causing a chain reaction. Let's see if he is right. I shall tell you the story of what happened with him as if you were him. If you somehow end up making the same choices he did, then we will have to give his theory the benefit of doubt. If it turns out he is wrong, I shall quickly just tell you what happened instead. All right, dearie?"
"All right," you say.
"Will you bark for me?" she says, laughing.
"W-w-woof, w-woof," you say.
"It's 1857 and you are a young physicist ..."

You're lying in a bed. Everything is darkness. Someone is lying beside you, sleeping. A woman. Outside you can hear the wind howling. As your eyes adjust to the dark, you realize you're in some kind of farming hut. Beside you there is a window. Snowflakes are whipping the glass.

>What do you do?

>>77940
Get out of the bed, put panties and a dress on

>>78177

Maybe it wasn't clear enough, but the point was that we transitioned to Mistress's story. So it's now a quest within a quest. You are controlling her father in 1857, not Colette.

>>77940
Well, it's dark and we have no way of knowing what this guys plans are, so I'm going to go on instinct here. I say we hug our wife/bed warmer, as it is cold.

>>77940

Oh hey, didn't know you were running again. Gotta catch up real fast. Btw, maybe a twitter or some other method of notification can help us know when you are running again.

>>78231
voting for this

>>78203
Also, as one of the at least three participants of this quest, you're doing an amazing job Bell. I was expecting/hoping for standard yuri bait (and I'm hoping it'll go there btw), but this is a really cool psychological thriller you've set up. I really hope we don't get stabbed repeatedly, cause this is way to fun not to end in either fleeing the manor with our life/soul intact, or /u/ things with our mistress.

>>77940
Agree with >>78231, just go to bed and try to sleep.
By the way, I'm really enjoying this quest and it's probably my favorite one of the ones I've seen on this board so far. You're really good at this.

Alright, glad to see Mistress has calmed down some. I'm going with >>78231, with the extra of maybe get some water or something first.

>>78400
I agree with this. Bell, I'm more in this to read and see how it plays out, but I'm really happy that I stumbled upon the first thread, and I know I'd be bummed if you stopped (or if I lose the thread like an inbred fuck).

>>78231
support

I'm going to archive >>51770 post in http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?page=0 .
Could you guys, propose a description for this quest? I want to give wnough good one, and I'm not confidence in my writing at all.
Max 140 characters.

>>77940
Nice, this is not anymore the "yes ma'am" quest. Hopefully we'll have some agency
>I shall quickly just tell you what happened instead
Welp that's a nice rail road you're planning here. I'm noping away again.

>>80809
descr: An orphan becomes a maid. She's abused by her crazy mistress then kisses her feet.
tags: Maid Simulator 2016, maid, submissive protagonist, no agency, yuri bait, abusive NPC

>>81181
Thanks for descr, but I need one that will attract more serious players(to keep the track as good as it is now), rather then shitposters.

>>81300
"An orphan becomes a maid after spening her whole life without a home, meets her new mistress who there might be something wrong with, and tries to fit in in her new enviroment.

Tags: maybeyuri, Maid Simulator 2016, maid, occult, alternatehistory.

>>81319
>Max 140 characters

>>81319
Thank you very much, mate.
>>81343
I dealed with it, just shorten it.

Just checking the thread, so probably won't continue until the usual time frame later.

>>81181

If you can get a majority vote to kill Mistress and systematically search the house for information, it's going to happen, you know.

>>81181
>Welp that's a nice rail road you're planning here. I'm noping away again.
It's just temporary, entertaining way to give some plot info, anon. We are making decisions retroactively, so we can't exactly have total freedom without having a serious chance of fucking up the story. Even then, it seems like our choices will still have some sort of effect on the present story, so it's not as if the interaction is pointless.

>>78231
>>78442

You turn to see a woman with blonde hair that turns dark at the roots lying on her back with her arms spread up behind her, looking like she's falling horizontally. Her lips are slightly apart, which doesn't exactly make her look very intelligent. She probably isn't. She had bad breath too. Iris, they call her, the Russian woman in the local farmlands known to be willing to sleep with almost anyone. For some reason she isn't able to carry a child and it has made her a bit of a fortune in these parts. She was your first. Honestly sex wasn't all that, and lying with here in the middle of the night and listening to the snow, you kind of regret doing this. Knowing what you have done for so little makes you feel dirty. Well, at least she's warm. You hug her and eventually you fall asleep. You dream that something is hunting you. They look like storks, only they are at least 8 feet tall. You manage to run into an alleyway. Along the walls are garbage cans, dirty cats bathing in banana peels and fish bones. There is something you did, something unforgivable, and you must pay. You wake up.

Someone is knocking on the door. You quickly sit up in the bed, looking around the room. What if it's her father? He is known to be dangerous, to say the least. Luckily there are several objects you could use as a weapon. Being an expert scientist you're sure you could device some kind of chemical weaponry as well, for example using coal from the fireplace in combination with washing liquids. You could also just wake up Iris and have her answer the door while you hide. Or maybe you should just go open it yourself. It could be one of your friends, here to tease you. There is also the window to try to escape through.

>What do you do?

>>85075
Escape. There is no need and benefit of us remain in this room, either if that is father woh is knoking, or your firend, or someone else.
But remeber to take our clothes(if we don't have them already), and dress up after escaping, when we are out of sight from window. Also we can remove other evidences(if there is any) of our being in this room.

>>85075
Easy enough. Get dresses, jury-rig a flamer, and ask who's at the door. Best case scenario, our paranoia is unjustified, worst case, we have a weapon that can melt flesh from bone in a matter of seconds, and Asshole McFarmhand doesn't know it.

>>85511
"dressed" whoops

>>85511
Schouldn't be avoid killing father. Getting in fight will be also with no benefits, and could be with cons, even fatal.
If that's the father, once he will hear male voice, he can barge in a moment, without answering.
I don't see any flaws in escaping; do you see?

>>85511
"jerry rig" is the term you are looking for, but I agree with your idea

>>85075

Ask who it is. No need to be so paranoid yet.

>>85448
I agree with this. Dont go and kill the father, we dont have to turn into a murderer for that bitch, just take your shit and leave

>>85511

You quickly get dressed. Iris turns in the bed, squinting at you in overwhelming confusion. She jumps when two very hard knocks follow on the wooden door. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," she says. Quickly you grab one of the pots Iris probably uses to make porridge, which should contain small particles of nitroglycerine due to the nature of the surrounding soil, and add some of her soap. Pig's fat has elements of ionized calcium which should work as a stabilizer against the nitroglycerine, making it possible for you control the direction of the flames by oxygen - which means you can simply breathe in the direction you want to throw flames. Adding coal from the fireplace, a little bit of your nails (which contain hydrogen peroxide and assorted fibers), it causes an antioxidant reaction which makes a big flame stand up from the pot. You can now breathe fire on people by holding the pot in front of you. Ahhhh, science is truly magnificent! (Warning! Porridge Destroyer (tm) will break after 3 uses and is destroyed if successfully attacked by an adversary.) On the other side of the door you can hear mumbling and swearing. Another hard knock.
"Who the fuck is it?" you yell.
"You fucken rich basterd, imma gonna kill you. You think you can get rich on OUR work and soil, AND sleep with ma whore dauta? Sonnovabitch imma gonna make porridge of your flesh and blud."
Someone must have told him that you were planning to visit the local prostitute. Probably one of your farmer "friends", jealous of your riches. Fuck. You guess your father must have a point, that all those farmer friends you have only listen to your scientific and philosophical ramblings because of your riches and secretly hate you. An ax breaks through the wooden door. Iris screams.

>What do you do?

>>86761
Tell him that she approached you first. If that doesn't work, tell him you are armed.

>>86761

Not sure if we should kill the guy. On one hand, he is trying to kill us, and will probably be a constant problem, on the other hand killing him can have drastic effects on others, and might cause even more problems in the long term. I say we just scare him with the fire real fast, grab important things, then go to a legit friends house, and later work on sorting things out with the farmers.

>>86761
Just start a small fire somewhere and make a run for it

Lets hope they can put it out and if not, who cares it only is a story in a story right?

>>86956
But isn't this our house? We shouldn't burn down our own house.

>>86761
That is our house, or whom?

>>86998
>Quickly you grab one of the pots Iris probably uses to make porridge

I doubt the town whore lives at your place

>>87105
Eh, guess I didn't notice that. But the fire probably won't take fast enough or be contagious enough to made a useable barrier.

>>87218
Not even talking about a barrier, just turn their attention to something else and give us a window to leave

>>87265

Agreed, a spray or two probably won't destroy the place, but will give us time to leave

>>86918
1 upped yo

>>87295
But we already have time. You know how much time it is needed to destroy doors by axe? At least twice amount time we need to escape using window. Escape is good resolution, I don't see any cons from doing it, and even if, not bigger then trying to fight/scare/convice furious, unpredictable peasent.

>>87417
whatever, can never have too much time right?

>>87434
If having more time includes puting room on fire, that will be result in pissing agressor even more, and get more antipathy from other inhabitants, I will say that we can have too much time.

>>86918

You turn your weapon towards some rags or jackets, you can't quite tell what it is, and blow on the fire. You feel yourself being pushed backwards on the wooden floor from the might of the flames as the cloth comes on fire. (2 uses remaining!) You blow directly into the center of the pot, making the flames choke themselves out and thus extinguish the weapon. You put it down on the floor. (Porridge Destroyer [tm] has been discarded!) Opening the window, the wind slams it loudly back into the frame. You have to work really hard to push it up and give yourself an opening big enough to roll out, landing on the snow outside on your shoulders and knees. The snow is very deep, so your landing is soft, but it takes you a moment to climb out of all the snow, dropping off you in huge chunks. Despite the wind slamming the window another time, Iris's father seems to still be busy trying to bust up the door with an ax.
"Hah!" you smugly mutter to yourself, dispelling frost smoke in the air before you. "What a pleb, with a mind unfit for either scientific inquiry or artistic pursuits (~the only true worthy aspirations in this mystery that we call life~), this farmer gentleman is to be still beating at the door with his work tool whereas I have already exited upon the window and am on my way home!" You start to run through the snow. A long distance in front of you the Huxtable mansion looms with the great library where you recently believe to have developed a time machine. It is no easy run up from the farming houses down the hill to the fence today though, with the snow pulling your feet back as if it were a deep swamp. Suddenly behind you,
"Fucken rich basterd!! Imma gonna kill ya!"
Iris's father is a big, very tall man who has no hair on his head, but the biggest, bushiest eyebrows you have ever seen. He is holding his axe with two hands ... and he is wearing snowshoes. There is no (scientific) way in the world you will get back to the manor before he gets to you.

>What do you do?

>>87705
>"Hah!" you smugly mutter to yourself, dispelling frost smoke in the air before you. "What a pleb, with a mind unfit for either scientific inquiry or artistic pursuits (~the only true worthy aspirations in this mystery that we call life~), this farmer gentleman is to be still beating at the door with his work tool whereas I have already exited upon the window and am on my way home!"

I really laughed with this.
I throw heavy, fast snowballs at his face and fights him when he get near

>>87705
>"Hah! ... 'What a pleb, with a mind unfit for either scientific inquiry or artistic pursuits (~the only true worthy aspirations in this mystery that we call life~)
Easy, just teleport behind him

>>87705

Well shit, thought he would have been distracted longer, or still think we were still inside. Fuck it, do what >>87902 suggested.

>>87902
We don't have Porridge Destroyer [tm] anymore, how you want to win a fight againts him? Even if we know some fighting style, we are slowed down by the snow, while big man have snowshoes.

>>87705
If you are adequately fit and have enough of a head start, you should be able to crawl on all fours fast enough to evade him

>>88027

Any suggestions then? Not being rude or anything, but unless we have a gun we can use to make him back off, I can't think of what else to do. He can catch us if we run thanks to the snowshoes.

>>88027
Grab his axe midattack, disarm him and beat him (maybe with said axe).

>>88196
No, we must become the crab
>>88036

>>88202
Given our posh upbringing, it is unlikely we know any fighting techniques

>>87705
take inventory to see if anything can help us
eg, if we have a belt attempt to whip his hands/ face/entangle the axe

>>87902

Behind the man you can see the flames licking up the sides of the house. You overestimated his intelligence. Perhaps this can be used to your advantage instead - now that you are forced to make battle with him, man against man. You decide to stand your ground, rather than exhaust yourself first trying to run up the hill, and crouch down to make a heavy snowball. It would have been great if you could find a rock to put into it, but the ground beneath is frozen solid. You look up at the stars for luck, snowflakes falling onto your face, before you throw your first snowball, the second, the third, and another after that. It seems to just be making the man angrier, redder - and run towards you faster. Maybe that is how you can defeat him. He might be strong, but you are smaller and faster. But who are you really kidding? He works out in the fields all day while you are a scholar. You stand no chance. It's not like you have a choice though.

He reaches you, your heart beating faster and faster as you feel less and less of your exhaustion. In the face of death, your body is as sharp as it can get. The farmer swings his axe at you. Just barely you manage to jump away, landing on the snow on your hands and knees close by. He already has the axe over his head, ready to swing down again, just watching you as lay beneath him in fear - perhaps reconsidering the fact that he is about to kill the son of the man who owns all his property. In the last moment he gives in to anger though and is about to swing -- when a loud scream pierces the sky. You look up only to see Iris, his daughter, running out of the house immolated. You swallow, cold filling your body. The farmer with the bushy eyebrows drop his axe and begins to run towards his daughter who falls into the snow. It's too late though. She is more ashes than person by the time he reaches her. The man screams in sorrow,
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."
Iris, the only woman you have ever slept with ... She must have tried to, she must have tried to stop the fire or something like that while her father ran after you. It happens almost completely without forewarning, you throw up into the snow. You can see pieces of the ham and turnip from the stew you had for dinner. Before you became a murderer. Dumbfounded you watch your warm stomach liquids melt the snow, disappearing along with everything you thought your life was and would be.

>What do you do?

>>88278
Well, this took a wrong turn, but we can't let ourselves be known as a murderer. Grab the axe and go for the father.

>>88278
If you turn that into the real occurence I'll be pissed

Whatever lets go for it, head for the axe and slaughter the peasant while he mourns above the burnt corpse that he once called daughter.

>>88346
Actually this is the best option, and worst at the same time. Best for us living, but moral the worst.
I will go with it...

>>88278
Kill him fast, hes doing too much noise

>>88278
this whole thing is a setup. We shouldnt kill him, we should get ourselves caught, take the moral path, get imprisoned. stripped of our wealth most likely. That way it cant possibly be the real timeline and we contradict the fathers theory.

Also fuck that guy and his time travels.
That bitch just went forward in time, got himself a cutie and went back.
Explains the day of the mothers death

>>88475

Voting this, while it is interesting to hear the story of Mistress' father, the point of this was to prove his determinism theory wrong.

>>88475
Either if we contradict theory, or not, we will get to know the story. The diffrence is that on one hand we get it from mistress, the other-we will experience it.
I think whatever path we will take, OP will make it like that, that real timeline could exist.(if he belive in determinism) If he would do that, this means, that we are making his past and his character by making decisions.

btw. it is hard for me to try to break determinism theory, as I belive in it.

>>88729
whatever, the father better not be a maniac who set a house on fire, killed his first one and slaughtered her father in cold blood.

It would explain why mistress is so fucked up though

>>88764
You got the point in not making her father murderer.
I'm changing my mind, no longer my statment is >>88403 , but I'm backing >>88475

>>88475
But is our goal really to prove him wrong? And if we do, will mistress see it as us doing it because we would make that choice, or because we want to prove someone wrong?

>>88847
maybe the root of the most self sacrifice is the right way to go

She seems to count on that, and I still root for a romance subplot here

Counting 3 votes for killing him with an axe. One of you changed your mind, but I've already written it now.

>>88346
>>88403
>>88404

>Part 1/2

Sometimes people would tell you that you were too logical. After all, you were the kind of person who would, after having a nice conversation with someone, formally ask them to be your new friend. Or the kind of person who, asked if they would kill a person if it guaranteed the lives of four people, would reply, "Well, of course." This was a good mind to have for science, perhaps, but even you knew you were not the best, purest person out there. You sighed. There was only one logical action in this situation, and you knew it. You were a murderer. It was already too late. The question now was whether you could get away with it.

Carefully you picked up the axe and began to walk towards the man, crying as he bathed his fingers in the ashes of his daughters - perhaps looking for some evidence that all the lovely memories they had shared together had once actually been real. Even as you continued to walk towards him, your axe hanging in front of you by your two hands, you felt like crying. Maybe they were dumb and pathetic, these two. The whore and the big, old, dumb peasant. But that didn't mean that they hadn't had their moments. Christmas dinners by the fireplace with extra ham as a bonus from your father for their good work this year, or finally seeing each other after the father had been away for business in Paris. You weren't sure what you expected when you slammed the axe down into the man's backhead, but him screaming out loud in pain and even turning to look at you with still tearful eyes was not among them. He fell to the ground in his daughter's ashes like a sack of potatoes, and continued to squirm and cry. "Iris," he said, "Iris," he kept repeating, tears running down his cheek. "Oh my sweetheart ..." You lifted up the axe. You were just putting him out of his misery while protecting your own future and reputation. There was no time to be sentimental. This was simple damage control. You slammed the axe down again with a loud chuck, at his neck this time, opening a red, bleeding hole - like the gill of a fish. Still, he continued to murmur and sob. Suddenly you saw lights turn on in farmhouses around you. W-what if someone had seen you after all? There had been screaming after all, and the prostitute's house was on full fire now. Also, lots of people knew who was going to sleep with her that night. Oh God, maybe you should have just ran away while you could, but when you look down it's too late. The peasant lies dead, his eyes empty. On the way back, some of your tears freeze to your cheeks.

>>88919

>Part 2/2

You sat in your drawing room, thinking about the time machine. Two weeks ago you had finally managed to finish it, and even though you didn't dare use it, you had been practically floating since because of that boost of confidence. You were the first person in human history to have a time machine! Now it was all over though. Even washing your hands hadn't helped. You still felt like you were dirtying your surroundings. In the end, you had put on gloves and you were sitting on your bed now, wearing thick winter gloves on your hands. You got the idea for the time machine reading some old papers by the British scientist Henry Cavendish. You always thought scientists missed a lot not reading the words by the geniuses themselves. There was lots there the normal textbook writers missed because they thought it was unimportant, though that was only account of their intelligence being lower than that of the famous scientist. A strange consequence of one unnoticed detail in one of Cavendish's papers suggested to you that one could travel in time. It had taken you several years and the laughter and exasperation of everyone who heard what you were working on, but finally you had completed it. You didn't dare use it though. What kept bothering you was that you had no good answer to the grandfather paradox. If you went back in time and shot your own grandfather, what would happen? There was a contradiction either way. And as long as you didn't understand time travel, you felt you couldn't use it. The whole universe could be at stake for all you knew. You were far beyond thinking of yourself as a good person now though. And ... if you did this last ... evil thing, maybe you could take it all back? Maybe you didn't need to be a murderer?

>What do you do?

>>88943
it might be risky but I say go back in time, and unlive the whole Iris experience, Even if she was our first, its not worth the mental burden of murdering two, and potentially bringing ruin to our future

>>88943
Travel to a different time period and start your life over, forget that you even existed, if you can.

>>88943
Go back to at least tell yourself to avoid confronting her father, if something happens from you meeting yourself, or the present you disappearing from no longer needing to go back in time it will be worth it. Two lives are worth more than one after all.

>>89062
Better tell him to not sleep with that girl, why this is not worth to do.

>>88943
Go travel into the year 2010 and talk to some 18 year old woman you would later turn into your wife

>>89003
>>89045
>>89062
>>89138
>>89150

"And then he went into the time machine," Mistress says.
"And what happened then?" you ask from under her feet.
"I'm getting tired of talking about this. Honestly it pains me quite a lot to think what kind of things my poor father experienced."
"I'm sorry, Mistress."
She shifts her feet.
"I'm used to it. I just don't want to talk about it anymore right now."
"So he made just the same choices as I did?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so. Determinism, so far, seems to hold. It wouldn't surprise me though. My father was a very smart man. Smarter than me, and obviously, a lot, lot smarter than an orphaned maid like you. Determinism might very well be the correct philosophy."
You keep quiet.
"Of course at the same time my father had the maturity to realize that nothing we do or what happens to us is really up to us. Even with the best possible intentions and the greatest mind in France you might end up a murderer under the wrong, accidental circumstances. Or maybe ... Maybe he was trying to run from his responsibilities. We shall continue on this subject at a later time."
"Yes, Mistress. What are we going to do now?" You've been so engulfed by Mistress's story that you're just now starting to feel how painful it is lying under her legs, especially with you already being so worn from everything else that has happened to you this day.
"I want to read now, until the afternoon. I need something to keep my mind off my hunger until supper. I will still need you as my footstool though. Will you go get me my book first?"
"Y-yes, Mistress," you say standing up, walking over to the bookcase.
"Please, among the shiny books, find me New Moon by Stephenie Meyer. It is my favorite book in the world. I just love how great the love between the characters are. They are even willing to kill themselves because they are so sad not to be together."
"I understand, Mistress," you say, scanning the shiny rows. It is actually one of the books you looked at before, the one with the rose. You take it out of the bookcase and give it to her, then you go down on your hands and knees. She places her feet on your back. And then, for a very, very long while -- hours even -- she just reads.

>How do you try to make time pass under Mistress's feet as you suffer from both hunger and fatigue, increasingly every minute?

>>89272
You turned him into a murderer and we don't even know if he fixed it

Whatever try thinking about how the story continues and see if it mirrors anything that happened in the orphanage to keep that mind away from the evergrowing back pain

>>89272
Masturbate.

If that's too shitpost-y, then we should subtly try to show our discomfort.
Also, why don't we sit with your legs crossed so that her feet are propped up on your shoulders instead if your back?

>>89272
Hum the song that she showed us not that long ago, maybe she'll be annoyed at first but then take it as a compliment of some weird sort. Say it was like really catchy or some bs like that.

>>89445
Yeah, I'm changing my vote from >>89439.
But you should still try and sit up.

>>89445

This, was going to say think of a song from the orphanage, but that works too

>>89445

Voting for this. With some luck, she might even stop using her as furniture for today

On second though, that was my last post today. Hope to see you all again next time!

>>89445
I think thats too risky, but can work

>>89629

Thanks boss. Just as a reminder though, what times do you run? Some way to know when you start would be appreciated.

>>89704

I don't know about boss, lol! It's hard to say, especially with next week, but generally I've tried to play at about the same time every day ... Which is past 6-7 PM (GMT) or so.

>>89272
>"Please, among the shiny books, find me New Moon by Stephenie Meyer. It is my favorite book in the world. I just love how great the love between the characters are. They are even willing to kill themselves because they are so sad not to be together."

We must kill her now. I'm the guy who suggested the flamer, so my kill count in this quest is already at one. I wanted yuri to happen, but mistress is clearly beyond redemption. There is no saving her, only ourselves and those her madness might harm. But in all seriousness, think lewd things about mistress for now, that'll always pass the time.

>>90053
Actually you have your kill count at two. If not flames, we would not had to kill the father. Just saying.

>>92261
Well, let's say my "direct" kill count

>>89397
>>89439
>>89445

>Part 1/3

On your hands and knees in front of Mistress while she reads, you try to process some of what you heard about her father to avoid thinking about your fatigue and hunger. The idea that we're not really in control of our actions and our destinies rings true to you. Did you choose to not have a mother or father? And just imagine the major way it has affected the way you have become. Being the weakest in a tough place you are a person who just does what they are told, mostly just trying to stay invisible. And you remember how that boy, Michel, was suddenly adopted back by his parents who had been lucky with their shoe shop and managed to go from barely able to afford food and clothing for themselves, to owning a respectable business. When Michel suddenly came back to visit the orphanage one day, he had turned into one of them, the normal children who didn't walk around in dirty rags and eat the same food every day. There was a certain pride and confidence to him, and he knew so many things. He had changed completely, and with it his future. And how had he had anything to do with this outcome? He was simple a child being thrown around by forces greater than himself, and weren't we, in truth, all?

Philosophizing is only enough to keep the pain away for a while. You wish you could comfort yourself, the way Aurèlie taught you. After everything you have been through today, it would be justified. Still, something tells you this isn't something you can just up and do in front of Mistress. Eventually the pain becomes so unbearable though, you decide to take a different risk. You sit up on your butt, placing Mistress's feet over your shoulders instead. You hold one of your eyes closed, as if expecting to be hit in the face as you wait for her reaction to come.
"Well, it's not like I'm sitting here watching what my footstool looks like ... I guess you can sit like that if it's too tiresome for you. But it looks silly. If we hear anyone coming through the door, you will have to hurry and get back on your hands and feet again, so you look like a proper footstool."
Relief fills you, both the physical and for your fear of Mistress. You sit like that for a while, just enjoying your rest. Sometimes your tummy twists and turns and you make grimaces though. You are so hungry, but you try not to think about food. It only makes it worse. Everybody at the orphanage knew that. You wonder if Mistress knows the same. She doesn't seem to be that bothered by the hunger though. On the other hand you do have your back to her. Having her feet on top of her shoulders barely bothers you at all in any case. it's even nice to have some body contact with a warm person, especially one who probably shares your pain. It almost feels like when you were sitting underneath her massaging her feet, and she was suddenly so nice.

>>95873

>Part 2/3

She is mean, but at the same time, when things are fine between you, it feels so special. You feel something like affection for Mistress coming back again, and curiosity and even admiration. To think she had such an interesting father, murderer or not ... You try to hum the song she showed you yesterday, to express some of the warmth you're suddenly feeling towards her. Your affection feels so strong it makes your hunger feel almost insignificant. As long as you are together ... You suddenly notice the sound of the pages turning occasionally has stopped. You turn your head to find that she's just looking at you, warmly smiling.
"Maybe you would like to listen to some music where you are sitting?"
You shrug, but it doesn't look like she stops to see you do it. She takes her feet off your shoulders, stands up from the chair and disappears into the bedroom. She comes back with the set of black dots, only now you realize it's connected to some sort of rectangular, black piece. She looks at it as if she's reading it, swiping and pushing her finger down on it.
"I want you to listen to one of my favorite albums."
"Y-yes?"
She puts the dots on your ear.
"It's Radiohead's ninth album, A Moon Shaped Pool," you hear her saying, her voice a bit subdued by the thing covering your ears.
"Huh?" The words don't make any sense to you.
"It's so deep and emotional, yet feels a lot more sincere than the depressing electronics of Kid A and OK Computer. In my opinion, it is their true one masterpiece. My favorite song is the last one, True Love Waits. It's about love, you know. That is my favorite topic of all. You know that they would play that for 20 years or so before they actually put it on an album? It was this really simple, earnest song that people thought they were perhaps a bit ashamed of, but which was a fan favorite ... And suddenly, one day! It's there! The final of the album. Amazing, isn't it? If I'm to be quite honest with you I probably would not have survived my teens without this album to support me."
"Y-y-yes, M-Mistress." You still have no idea idea what she's talking about. She puts her feet back on your shoulder again, and you sit there listening to the music.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6npgvCn7mSQ

It reminds you a little of what she made you listen to before, but it's a lot different at the same time. Somehow it feels sadder. For a while it takes your mind off the exhaustion and hunger, trying to understand the sounds, but then you feel like the songs start repeating and you respectfully put the thing that is sending music into your ears down on the ground. Outside it has started darkening a little, but it's still a while until supper. You have to fight yourself not to sigh very loudly. Mistress sure has her nice sides, but you are so bored.

>>95893

>Part 3/3

Suddenly the door opens and you hurry to throw yourself on your hands and feet again. It's Miss Diana carrying a tray with food. You must have fallen asleep for a while because it's completely dark outside now. The whiff of cooked food of a quality you were really never privy to at the orphanage almost makes you want to cry. Mistress takes her feet off your back, stands up, puts the book back into the bookcase and sits down again, though with her feet to the ground now. You watch her as she accepts the tray from Miss Diana who promptly leaves. Mistress looks at the food for a while, steam coming up from it. You can see a piece of beef which makes your mouth water, cooked potatoes and peas. There is a humongous glass of milk beside it.
"L-little C-Colette, d-dear?"
"Yes, M-Mistress?"
"There will be no repercussions if you refuse this. I think forcing my previous maid to do this was what lead to our split, and I don't want to lose anyone else in my life. B-but ... I was the kind of person who liked to have their crust cut for them on their bread, so that it was easier to eat. It wasn't even that I didn't like crust, it was just that I liked to have someone do something for me."
"A-are t-there any crusts in your m-meal that need to be removed, Mistress?"
"No. It's just that ... Would you chew my food for me?"
"C-chew y-your food?"
"Yes, b-before you go up to have your o-own d-dinner."
"W-what do you mean?"
"W-well, you put it in your mouth, chew and then you push it into my mouth."
"W-w-what?"
"So I don't have to c-chew myself."
Mistress blushes.
"P-please, Colette."

>What do you do?

>>95905

Well, she said please. I don't think this is a trap as well, since she is just as embarrassed. So I say do it, while maybe inquiring how she managed to deal with this between her old maid and us. Maybe we can make her so embarrassed by it that we don't have to do it again. Also, point out that this is a great way to spread germs, and last thing we want to do is get Mistress sick.

Hell of a way to lose our first kiss as well.

>>95905
In attempting to do it, we're so repulsed by the act that we throw up in her mouth.

That should stop her asking, but who knows she might even be into it the freaky bitch

>>95893
i was half expecting the american psycho monologue about music the way this was coming around

>>95968
seconding.

>>95968

>Part 1/2

"W-won't this make M-Mistress s-sick?"
"If something that is you, that came from your mouth, made me sick ... Well, then I think it would be worth it. Even if my body shut down, if it killed me ... That would mean nothing. That is h-how m-much you mean to me." Suddenly Mistress puts her hand over her mouth. This must be something she has fantasized about saying to someone, but she has forgotten that you've just met and that is probably a bit early.
"I-it's like when we say we love each other, right? I-it j-just feels good to say?"
You nod and stand up.
"Maybe it's b-best if you s-sit down into my lap."
You do so, putting the tray up on your lap. You can feel the heat from the food through the tray, against your legs. It looks delicious. You begin to cut some of the beef, putting it into your mouth. You start to chew, and it's so juicy and sweet. At the last moment you remember you're not supposed to swallow it. Ugh, are you really going to do this? You move your face towards hers, eyes meeting, and then your lips touch and you push the mush into her mouth. She has a strange, touched look in her eyes. She swallows.
"T-thank you, Colette. Please help me with the rest of my meal."
You chew for her for a while. At first it makes you kind of sick, but you sort of like feeling your faces close together, her warm breath on your lips just before you push the well-chewed food into her mouth. For some reason it makes you tickle inside, and there's a hint of how you feel when you comfort yourself. It confuses you, but you try to focus on this pleasant aspect of it as chewing someone's food is almost too much for you.
"What happened with the other maid?"
"I-I w-would," Mistress starts, blushing and looking away, "Well, she hated to do it. And I would beat her bloody with a stick."
"B-beat h-her b-bloody?"
"I-I'm not p-proud of i-it," Mistress says. "I'm still hungry," she quickly adds, wanting you to chew another bite for her. After this you don't feel it's right to push her more on her conflicts with the previous maid.

Miss Diana comes to collect you for your dinner. Again you go through all those creepy hallways before finally reaching the same room as the day before, with all the other servants. This time it's a different maid that hands out everyone's plates with food. The dinner is still excellent compared to what you had at the orphanage, but of course what Mistress had was in a class of its own. You wonder how much taste there is left after you have chewed it for her. I guess that's what she's always on about. Self-sacrificing for companionship. What can you say.

>>97066

>Part 2/2

You're surprised to find Mistress in her nightgown, lying uncovered in bed when you return. She is hugging herself, shaking and making "brrr" sounds.
"M-m-mistress, why haven't you covered yourself?"
"I w-wanted you to tuck me in."
"Y-yes, Mistress," you say and quickly do it. She looks very relieved and then makes you read some very boring history book, grain statistics. Afterwards she puts those dots on her ears and listens to her strange music. At one point she cries into her pillow. You hold her hand throughout, until she falls asleep. You take her dots away, putting them on the nightstand and extinguish all candles.

That night you have a horrible dream. You are in Paris, running down the side of a canal from something immense. Some stranger stares at you in disbelief as you bust into their house and just manage to close the door before whatever is chasing you catches you. Just at the last moment you manage to see it's some kind of stork, bigger than the tallest men. You wake up to the sound of a female scream in the middle of the night. It's coming from Mistress's room.

>What do you do?

>>97077

Well shit, better go see if Mistress is ok. Make yourself somewhat presentable as well. I wonder if this is going to lead to us sleeping in her bed with her constantly now.

>>97077
Well we obviously need to check this out, it's literally our reason for existing at this point. And besides, best case scenario we get to see the frightened little girl that mistress is on the inside and comfort her, and worst case scenario we might save her life. I see no other reasonable option.

>>97077
Just like last time, run to her room (with the maid hat)

>>97110 >>97369
I don't see any other good choice either. Secound those.
>>97066
This quest has so many disquieting scenes. I love it(in some way).

>>97110

Yeah, this. A maid has to do what a maid has to do.

>>97110
>>97369
>>97555
>>97666
>>97826

It must be Mistress again, mustn't it? What else could it be? You go find the headpiece of the maid uniform and put it on your head again. You don't even bother bringing a weapon this time, though you are careful as you enter her bedroom. Once again you find her crying in the bed. This time she recognizes you instantly. Her eyes are wide-open and she's shaking.
"C-colette? Y-you m-must hold me again."
You climb into bed again, hugging her like the last time. Perhaps tomorrow there won't be any point in going to your own bed at all. You stroke her hair carefully until she calms. Then comes the catch, what you've been worrying about,
"C-colette?" she says, turning towards you.
"Yes."
"I-I'm starting to trust you. So if you want to hurt me instead of getting hurt for me ... I don't mind. I would like to show affection towards you as well," she says, her eyes soft.
"What do you mean?"
"If you want, you can sleep on top of me rather than the other way around. Of course you are heavier than me. B-but I w-won't mind. Not at all," she says, smiling dreamily.

>What do you do?

>>98046
Unless she explicitly asks us too sleep on top of her, I don't think we should. For now, just comfort her too sleep. But if she wants us to sleep on her, the we should honor her request.

>>98091

This, she is giving us an option here. Unless she does say to sleep on her, how about we just cuddle or comfort her some other way.

>>98091

Thirding this. Some cuddles and normal comfort to forget all the craziness at least for a moment

Last post today!

>>98091
>>98129
>>98426

You shake your head for "no", and begin caressing her cheek instead with the outer part of your fingers pressed together, looking into her eyes. You put your legs over hers, pulling her closer towards you. She looks surprised for a moment, but then decisively pushes you on your back. It doesn't take a lot of force from her to do whatever she likes with you by now, even though strictly speaking she is a lot smaller than you and you could have easily resisted her if you wanted to. She makes herself comfortable on top of you again. It's not as terrible this time though. You're kind of used to the sensation, and she also doesn't put her arm over your face again. She even lies on you a bit higher than the last time, breasts pressed together as she soon begins to snore lightly with her cheek partly against yours. You wonder how bruised and sore you are going to be with the rest of your life is she plans to make this a common sleeping arrangement. You wake up again before she does. You can tell it's morning by the light coming in through the bed curtains.

>What do you?

>>98763

Get yourself comfortable in the bed and look at the mistress's cute sleepy face. Then wait next to her side until she wakes up because she might get angry if she wakes up and finds that you aren't there anymore

>>98763
Let her sleep, it would be rude to wake her up

>>98826
>>98823

These. Good thread run Bell, see you around next time.

Yea I agree with letting her sleep, hopefully it's not too uncomfortable. I'm intrigued to seeing how she wakes up, maybe we greet her cheerfully or something and see if she responds in the same way.

>>98823
seconding.

File: image.jpg (22KB, 392x200px) Image search: [Google]

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>>100233

File: want.jpg (325KB, 1028x1028px) Image search: [Google]

325KB, 1028x1028px

>>98823
This.

Also, I just finished reading through, and wow. This is really interesting, good job on it. I look forward to the next time!

I have Twitter now https://twitter.com/helpmecosmia77 Also, nice to hear >>102308!

>>98823

As carefully as you can, you untangle yourself from Mistress. Her hair brushes your face as you pull her off, safely laying her on her tummy with her head on a pillow. She makes some sounds of complaint, but they are so weak that they're not very convincing. She adjusts herself and falls asleep again. You watch her. She looks so calm and harmless the way she is lying, her nose cutely pushed up by its angle against the bed. You wish she could be this way always, knowing the kind of things she thinks and worries about. Poor, lonely, strange, sweet girl, you think to yourself. After a while you turn your attention to the wood over the bed, looking for interesting patterns in its creases like you would in clouds. You think Mistress is finally about to wake up when instead she grabs your arm and presses herself against you.
"Don't go ... Mommy," she says weakly, eyes closed.
"I-I won't g-go anywhere," you say. She doesn't respond, but just seems to fall back to sleep again. Turning like this has thrown some kind of necklace she is wearing on you. There is some kind of small, red gem attached to it. The gem almost seems to be glowing and makes you a little dizzy.

>Mistress has not woken up yet. What do you do?

>>103430
Quickly go prepare her some breakfast!

>>103430
Try and shift it so it's not touching you, without disturbing her.

>>103430
eat the necklace

>>103430

Check out the necklace, see why it is glowing.

>>103430

Try to put back the necklace and then wait, knowing how weird she and her father were, it might be magical or science-ical

Hmmmm, all of you said different things ... I guess these two are kind of similar.

>>103519
>>103580

>Part 1/2

Knowing all the strange things you've learned to expect from this house, you decide to put the necklace back into her nightgown, making sure not to touch the gem. It might be anything. Or it might just be a normal, red gem. Who knows. The next moment you hear a door opening in the distance, someone coming into the drawing room. You hear another door open up, and steps coming towards you. Miss Diana splits the curtains and looks in at you, holding a tray with a breakfast similar to the one yesterday, and you look back. She turns to look at Mistress, and so do you. Mistress is squinting towards Miss Diana. She stretches and moans. Afterwards you feed Mistress the same way as yesterday. Already the second time it's a routine you barely consider, but when it comes to the moment to push food into your mouth, all your disgust comes back and you almost throw up. Pushing chewed omelette, full of melted cheese and ham, into someone's mouth, however much you like them, is not easy. Breakfast endured, you dress Mistress. You keep wanting to take a look at Mistress's breasts for some reason, but she watches you grinning all the time, so you never have an opportunity to. You notice she has taken off her bandage from the cutting the day before. An almost black scab, like cooling lava, has covered each slit. You wonder when she did it, you hadn't noticed. She seems in a very good mood today and makes you change into an identical dress to hers again, this one is a strong green. You have never seen something so flamboyant before. Feeling self-conscious in it, you follow Miss Diana, that comes back for the tray, to the servant's breakfast where you have porridge and a big, ice-cold slice of honeydew; the best-dressed person in the room. No one seems to pay any attention to it, so it must have been a common occurrence with the previous maid as well. You eat your breakfast with great delight. Even the porridge tastes a lot better here than at your orphanage. When you come back, Mistress is standing by her bedroom window, looking out. You just sit down on the bed and wait for her. She takes her time. You wonder what she is thinking of. Finally she decides to visit her mother's grave again. As you walk down the same hallways, anxiety starts to build in your chest until you are almost shaking. She grabs your hand at some point though, and that is somewhat a comfort.
"Colette?" she says, outside one of the final doors.
"Yes, Mistress?"

>>103929
already pissed you didnt eat it

that was obviously the choice

>>103929

>Part 2/2

"I would like to see mother alone today. It's just a preference I have some days. I hope you understand and respect that. There is a library just over there," she says, pointing towards a double door at the end of the hall, "I'll come get you when I'm done in an hour, or more."
You look at her very worried.
"Don't worry. Today is not a day I feel like it is necessary to cut. I almost feel like mother is with me since I woke up today. I don't know why, but everything feels so changed ..."
Before you have the chance to insist on following her, she has left you standing alone out in the hallway. You try to open the door, but it's locked. You go down the hallway and enter the library. You have never seen so many books in your life. The walls are completely covered in bookcases and there is also another elevated part on one side of the wall. To this platform is a ladder which goes up to another platform, and like that it goes all the way up to the high ceiling - allowing for more books in the empty space over the middle of the library. Under the shadow of this construction is a huge rectangular table lined with a dozen chairs or so. A child-like young man, perhaps 15 or so, is sitting in an oversized sailor's jacket reading a book. He has almost shoulder-length, thick hair which to his obvious irritation keeps falling over his face, and big bags under his eyes. For some reason just watching him from afar makes you feel stressed out.

>What do you do?

>>103943

Go up to the kid, introduce ourselves, ask his relationship with the mistress, and if there is anything else he can tell us about her, as well as the mansion.

>>103961

This, but being very polite. He might be a guest of the mistress after all.

>>103943
>>103961

I second this.

>>103961
>>104032

You walk around the table, feeling uncomfortable about all the platforms just above your head. At least the boy has reading light from some of the windows behind. You stop in front of him, and he looks up at you kind of conspicuously. You grab one side of each part of the skirt's dress and do a curtsy.
"My name is Colette Plamondon. I am Mistress's new personal maid. I have been invited to stay at this library while she ... while she sees her mother's grave. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, young Sir."
He watches you with a raised eyebrow through all of this, then makes a quick bow with his head without standing up.
"I am James Greenslade," he says with a light English accent to his French. You hesitate to sit beside him, so you end up sitting down with a chair between you. This feels awkward, but it's too late now.
"May I ask what your relationship to the Mistress is?"
He closes the book over his hand, realizing this will be a conversation.
"My relationship to Maryse Huxtable? Bah, I have barely met her." He talks and has the haughty gestures of an old, grumpy intellectual, but at the same time he is so obviously a very, very nervous child. At least it's relaxing to finally be around someone you don't have to feel very inferior to.
"T-then what is your place at this mansion?"
"I was the apprentice of her father, Edward Huxtable."
"Aha," you say.
"But then that bastards just disappears out of nowhere. God curse him!"
"How long ago was that?" you ask. Hearing God's name being spoken of in such a way makes you uneasy. Perhaps this child is another of the unlucky cases Mistress's father liked to surround himself, like the madhouse maids. Perhaps it's no wonder the man disappeared.
"I'd say like 8 months ago or so."
Your eyes catch the title of the book the young boy is reading. It says "The History of Sexuality by Michel Foucault". You blush. What kind of improper book can that be? Perhaps it is best to get away from this strange boy.

>What do you do?

>>104153
It kind of feels like the boy is the father in young form or something, maybe i'm dead wrong...
Inquire about his knowledge of her father to whatever extent he can provide and also how much he knows of mistress

>>104153
Well, that's one new face to possible ask about weird shit later, emphasis on LATER. We should excuse ourselves as politely as possible and good find something to read. Maybe we could try to learn English or something, since we know a lot of mistresses favorite songs and books are in English.

>>104153
Ask for recommendations on literature.

>>104202
Supporting

>>104153

Inquire about the book he's reading, given that he's the student of a scientist, it can't be smut and probably is something more scientific

>>104175
>>104310
>>104202
>>104308

"W-what do you know about Mistress?" you say, deciding to get as much information as you can. Regardless of what he is reading, it's doubtful this little teenager could harm you, and if he should suddenly become lewd, then it's easy to go away.
"I know that she's an unbearable histrionic, is what I know. You talk logic to the beast, and she talks back to you in hearts and feelings and tears. Do not ask me more. I am finished with that vile creature."
You have no idea what "uncurable histrionic" means, but you don't want to push him. He doesn't seem to like Mistress much, but it's obvious he's no servant if he dares talk about her like this. You wonder if he would have in front of her father.
"What about Mr. Huxtable?"
"Huxtable? It's hard to deny his genius and intelligence. He's a sentimental man through and through though, and can be quite stuck in his ways sometimes." He looks like he grumbles about some distant memory, then, again, he pushes hair away from his eyes. It's strange for you to listen to someone pick apart their elder, their teacher like this. The boy unnerves you.
"Do you know where he went?"
"No idea. He was teaching me something when suddenly he said something like, 'My dearest daughter!' and ran out of the room. Haven't seen him since. Disappeared into thin air. If I didn't know better, I would have thought he used the ... Nevermind."
"He used the ...?"
"NEVERMIND," the boy says. "Jesus Christ, you women with your curiosities and tempers. Feeble creatures, all of you. Women are like," he starts, putting his thumbs to his fingers, lifting this bouquet up and waving it around like someone trying to find the right word for how a wine tastes, "They are like a fruit. When you squeeze them, juices come out -- juices full of tastes maybe -- but there is no structure, strength, spine in them. Do you see what I mean? Only horrid emotions."
"I ... I ..."
"Of course not," he says, sighing.
"W-what is it that y-you are reading?" you ask. He doesn't seem like a passionate person at all, so perhaps it's nothing dirty after all, and if he is a scientist's apprentice it might be something important.
"This?" he says, lifting the book up before putting it down again. "It is about how the understanding of deviant sexuality changes in different times and cultures. The author is not always as logical as I would like, but it is interesting and amusing reading."
"D-deviant sexuality?"
"Well ... Some women, for example, like to copulate with women. They are called lesbians, or female homosexuals."
"I-i-is t-that p-p-possible?" you blush.
"Yes," he says, his voice suddenly almost sounding concerned. "Are you all right, Miss Plamendon?"
"You read a lot of books, right?" you say, trying to change the subject quickly.
"For sure."
"Will you recommend me some?"
"What topic interest you, Miss Plamendon?" he says, looking at you earnestly.

>Well, Miss Plamendon?

>>104409

Fantasy, because it was her only way to escape from the cruel and harsh truth of the orphanage and be "transported" into worlds where good defeated bad and dreams come true

>>104409
Serious answer: Something to help me learn English perhaps?


Perfect world answer: "Fuck you you sexist little cunt! If you ever speak badly about mistress again I'll rip off your dick and beat you to death with it!" And then punch him in the face to get our point across. I feel I should mention this, I dislike either form of sexism, and overly logical people, and those who insult my friends/eventual waifus. So yeah, fuck this guy. But don't take that as criticism Bell, I'm glad you introduced a character like this, great job as always.

>>104409

>>104457
>>104486

Why not both?

>>104409
>>104457
Something tells me this dude would frown upon us for reading anything other than books with subjects of purely logical natures (science, history, medicine etc.). But you can do fantasy if you want.

Last post today!

>>104457
>>104486

"Well, I know ... Mistress is very interested in English things."
"That is predictable. Her mother was English," the boy says, squeezing reason even out of the simplest statement.
"I thought I would try to learn English for her sake."
"This is something I could never understand. Why would you learn a language for someone else?" he says, stressing the two last words. He pushes the sleeves of his big sailor's jacket back to let out his little hands. You just look at him. There's really explanation that you think would please him that you can think of.
"Well, I think it's best to just jump into it if you want to learn a language," he says. "Use it. That was how I learned French so well."
You have to admit his French is pretty good. Laziness is probably not this teenager's fatal flaw.
"You would have to know some English already for this though."
"Well ... We did get some classes at the orphanage." You tell him some stock phrases, like where you can get some milk and bread, to demonstrate your limited skills. He corrects you on the pronunciation, screaming the right way to say it at you and you obediently repeat it. Any moment now, you bitterly think to yourself, he's going to get a wooden stick and whip your fingers like the math teacher at the orphanage school would do when you had too many answers wrong.
"What I would do," Greenslade says, "Is to get an English dictionary." He turns around and seems to be going through a bag or something that he has by his side, or perhaps it's just a pile of books he has collected. He comes up with a thick, dark green, old-looking book and pushes it towards you. "English-French dictionary". "Then I would find something that isn't very hard to read. Are there any kinds of books you like in particular?"
You consider this for a moment. You always liked stories about other worlds, especially ones where good defeated bad and dreams came true. Reading books like that, you could sometimes forget all your misery.
"Well, I like fantastical literature ...," you say, cringing.
"Of course," he says, sighing. "The most useless literature of all."
"Mistress likes it. She loves fairy tales."
"Doesn't she?" the boy says. "Unfortunately I know nothing of fantastical literature. I know where you can find it though."
"You do, huh?" you say.

>>104877

"It's over there," he says, pointing towards a bookcase almost by the entrance. You stand up, curtsy to him again, and head over to see. All the books are fantastical in nature, but they all seem French until you come across a row where they are suddenly all in English. Titles like "Gormenghast" and "The Well at the World's End". You settle for something called "The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter". It looks thin enough, and sure enough the language is rather simple too. You bring it to the table, and share the silence with the strange boy as you read. Sometimes he suddenly laughs out loud while reading, as if someone has told him something absolutely outrageous, and you wonder if he means for you to ask him about it. Something tells you he would laugh just the same if he was in the room by himself. The book that you are reading is very interesting even though the going is slow. It's about an old, childless bamboo cutter who finds a thumb-sized child inside a bamboo stalk. He names her Princess Kaguya, which means Princess of Flexible Bamboos Scattering Light, because whenever he cuts a bamboo stalk after that, he finds gold inside of it. You really get caught up reading, and you're almost a bit disappointed when Mistress comes to get you. She and Greenslade just throw each other frowning glances. You leave the English dictionary on the table and as you leave with your Mistress you put the book you were reading back into the bookcase. You look forward to continuing next time, but hopefully Greenslade will be there again so you can borrow his dictionary again.
"Terribly obnoxious boy, isn't he, Colette?"
"Yes, Mistress. Very, very obnoxious. He could use a good spanking, if you ask me."
She smiles in a very satisfied way as you follow her down the hallways. Suddenly you hear the sound again, just like a sewing machine. You turn as Mistress does herself. Her father's golem coming towards you, its shiny metal skin reflecting the light from the candles hanging along the walls, moving towards you with abrupt, but firm, quick chopping motions. There is a sound like a huge stack of books being pushed off a table. It's Mistress lying unconscious in a growing pool of her own blood, drenching through the sleeve of the same arm you cut yesterday.

>What do you do?

>>104887

Shit, grab mistress and run, probably to her room (safest place I can think of). I hope she didn't cut herself after she said she wouldn't, and those are just her wounds reopening.

>>104887
Can I ask if this Golem has any powers, or is it just brute strength?

Also, go run to the boy, he was the apprentice of Mr. Huxtable, he might know something. And while you're in the library, try to barricade yourself in, and make some sort of weapon, too.

>>104887
Fuck fuck fuck, time to move! Grab mistress and get to the closest safe place, whether that's the library or the bedroom. No matter what, try to barricade the doors with something heavy. If we get to the library, ask that shithead if he can stop it, if we get to the bedroom, look for alternative exits like a ledge or another side room. No matter what though, getting mistress to safety is the No.1 priority.

cover the arteries and run away

>>104887
>>104954
Seconding, or just the closest room available. If she has any wounds open on her, use some cloh from the dress to close it.

>>104887
Looks like she's suffering to let us escape, so she's happy. Leave her there and run away outside.

>>107290
fuck off

That is not how we get the yuri ending

>>107356
Of course, better be a nuisance to the tall metal golem by putting a puny door between it and its target.

>>107726
worked the last time didnt it?

>>107738
When it was just pacing around the place "in abrupt chops", when now it's actually charging in "abrupt, but firm, quick chopping motions".

Thread is autosaging, so this will probably be the last round in this one.

Might also be short as I'm kind of tired today.

>>104954

You lift up Mistress, but even though she is a lot smaller than you and you're full of adrenaline, running with her in your arms is easier said than done, especially with how painful and sore your legs are today. As you try to escape, blood covers both your green dresses, making them identical after all, and you leave a red trail for the golem to follow. How much blood can she lose before it gets really dangerous? The stupid girl, she must have cut herself after all, and from how it's flowing, she wasn't lying about how she cut much more when she did it herself. You're trying to get to a door just down the hallway, even though you don't know where it leads. Perhaps the golem will give up the chase if you can just get behind it. After all, Mistress never seems to worry that it will come into the drawing room, or even into their bedroom when they are sleeping. You can hear the golem gaining on you though, and you feel like there is no way you will be able to reach the door. Maybe it's this realization, or maybe just tiredness, that makes you abruptly drop the unconscious Mistress on your feet while you keep moving, making you trip. For a moment you are just floating through the air, feeling the air under your feet and seeing the green carpet getting smaller under you before it suddenly gets enormous. You smack into the ground.

When you come to, it's because Mistress is screaming. The golem, having reached her first, has pushed her up against the wall with one hand on each side of her head. Her little, black shoes are dangling over the floor and the hideous, metallic creature makes sounds like water cooking as steam suddenly sprays from its shoulders like momentary, watery wings. Ticking like clockwork the thing plants its feet hard into the ground, a good length away from each other for maximum leverage, and begins to press its cork-looking thumbs into her eyes and the fingers from the other side of the head, as if it wants to smash Mistress's head like you saw Giuseppe the prison warden do once with a watermelon, at the farm fair last spring. You can see the golem's innards through holes in its metal plates, hellish gears working, while Mistress's still running blood begins to pool around the walls and the golem's feets.

>What do you do?
[WARNING! This is a critical scene. The wrong choice may lead to this story's second Bad Ending. Think through this carefully. You've been introduced to two scientists. Remember that there is no such thing as an impossible situation for a true master of nature and the cosmos.]

shouldve eaten the necklace desu

Bet it wouldve given us immense amounts of powers

>>107917

Shit, not sure about this one. I'm sure it has to do with bringing up her father, but I don't know how to do it to make the machine stand down.

>>107917
>>107967

Or maybe not, main priority is to get it to stop it from killing Mistress. Maybe work something into its gears to cause them to seize, that will definitely get its attention. Hopefully the machine has self preservation as a priority, and start to move against an actual threat. After that I'm not sure.

>>108008
Sounds about right. We have to stop it from killing off mistress. Maybe we could turn its attention to us somehow but the way it locked itself in I doubt that. There has to be something around here to fuck with the gears

>>108008
Something like this, any object we have closely available, just jam it right into the machinery.

>>108008

Yeah, voting for this. Hopefully there's a long metal object nearby to use.

>>107917
>tiredness
>how painful and sore your legs are today
out of nowhere. We spent the morning doing fuckall.

>>107967
>Her father's golem
Her father is golem.

The father's story's a lie, apart from the obsession with determinism and halting problem.

He first wanted to curse himself to 3 laws of robotic+don't kill granpa. He actually decided to make his family the happiest thing ever. You're his new prospective mother of greatgranpa.

Your one duty is to hire a maid. She'll be your rival. She has two days to either kill you or be more caring and kind than you were to your mistress. Either way, she's the new prospective genitor.

Once every 2 year, unsatisfied with the current couple of champions, he travels back 2 years, looking for another male genitor to greatgranpa for a year, then for a female genitor.


It's now time to take your picture with your blind mother on her death bed.

>>107917
thread is not autosaging, reply count gets Italic when that happens. Tear fabric from the dress and shove it in the gear making the mechanism stuck. After yell for the help to come help (lol) and while dragging mistress away

PS
>>>107917
>..and begins to press its cork-looking thumbs into her eyes and the fingers from the other side of the head, as if it wants to smash Mistress's head like you saw Gregor the knight do once with a Dornish man, at the duel fair last spring.

>>108289

They could be sore from being a foot rest yesterday. We did spend quite a while on our hands and knees before we got smart and let her put her feet on our shoulders.

>>108297
thread is autosaging from old age. It doesn't show in italics.

>>108321
I checked and you're right. seems like i got memed.

>>107917
Ah triple fuck, the only plan I've got has been said already, tear off part of the dress and fuck up its gears. But look for a weak leg as well, if mistress's dad had a limp then the golem might have a similar weakness. I'm grasping at fucking straws at this point though.

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In retrospect I probably should have specified >>108289 You literally fell off a bed yesterday though, were her footstool, had her sleep on you, etc. You're bruised and sore as fuck.

And yes it is >>108297 On this board everything starts autosaging after 72 hours. If you watch the catalog next time someone posts, you'll see. Also lol! Cryptomnesia maybe.

In other news, *mysterious sound effect*. Your lack of attention will have consequences. >>104887 "reflecting the light from THE CANDLES hanging along the walls" Note that there were multiple possible solutions, but this was the one you got closest to.

>>108008

The gears! If you can somehow get something stuck in there, maybe it can stop the golem or at least get its attention and save Mistress until you can think of something else. You begin to look around for something to use, but you just can't seem to find anything.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAH," screams Mistress suddenly. "MY EYEEEES!"
Maybe it's your heart breaking to pieces that makes you look extra hard, but suddenly you see them, the candles lining the walls of the corridors. You run to the nearest one and pick it up. You're too excited about having found a possible solution that you don't even think twice about going near the golem. You jam the candle in between its metal sheets. You begin to hear it getting louder and louder before it suddenly turns completely quiet. Mistress drops to the floor, splashing some of her blood that has collected on the ground on your dress.
"I CAN'T SEE ... COLETTE, ARE YOU THERE ... I CAN'T SEE!!" Her voice sounds so desperate you feel like just dropping to your knees and screaming, punching your own face. The disbelief and horror in her voice, Mistress's voice who you ... truth be told, probably want to "copulate" with ... who you, truth be told, are ... who you truth be told kind of already are in love with. You grab her hands, pulling her out of her blood puddle, leaving the golem where it's standing with the candle sticking out of its back. Quickly you run towards the door you were going towards earlier. You catch a glimpse of Mistress's skin, you've never seen skin so pale (almost like paper), and she stumbles after you, sobbing in a horrid kind of way that gives you goosebumps. Inside the door, Mistress sinks down with her back to the wall. Her arm is still bleeding and her eyes seem to be completely crushed. A part of one of them is coming down her cheek like a boiled egg that has been thrown hard against the wall. You close the door and sink down beside her. You seem to be in some kind of study room with a fireplace, small bookcases covering the wall and a small desk for writing and reading with a flintlock gun leaning against an ash tray. It's only source of light is a big window on the wall

>Mistress is bleeding to death. What do you do?
[WARNING! You've avoided the second Bad Ending, but it's still possible to lock yourself out from True Ending if you don't play this scene the right way. Be careful!]

>>108501
Fuck i thought we had saved her eyes .... Maybe there's a time travel solution out there? Tear the dress and tighten it on the arm, before the wounds and hold the arm high. Ask the staff if there's a doctor around these parts. Try to ask her if there's anything in the house that can help her, maybe an invention of sorts?

>>108501
Guessing we are far beyond stopping the bleeding with cloth or preassure, get a fire going and cauterize her wounds using the flintlock pistols barrel. Also make sure there is no black powder left and best clean it a bit

No idea about the eyes

>>108501
go back to the golem and jam it with something that doesn't melt in a few seconds. Else we might keep the Mistress alive for a minute before getting both killed by a well lubricated mechanism.

>>108587
You want to approach the thing that just pressed out someone's eye ball? Mind you it was occupied with squashing said eyeballs last time we "fought" it. You are mental if I dare say so

>>108573
>get a fire going and cauterize her wounds using the flintlock pistols barrel
That's long. If Colette saw a that one Rambo, she'll know to put a bit of black powder on the wound and ignite it to cauterize quickly.

>>108609
>You want to approach the thing that just pressed out someone's eye ball?
Yes, and hit it while it is down instead of waiting for it to wake up and get us with its shiny gears.

>>108614
Sure is a better idea. Let's hope there is black powder there then

>>108623
she didn't watch that Rambo
they don't have a TV in that orphanage

>>108648
Well fuck it then. Search for a book about first aid or something

>implying we have time for that

Can't there be some war veteran who told stories in the orphanage and mentioned his friend closing some ricochet wound with gun powder?

>>108664
... The time travelling lady might have seen it.

>>108501
WELL FUCK EVERYTHING THEN. Get her wounds bound up for now, start a fire to cauterize them, and then... fuck I don't know! See if there's a way to do first aid better, and maybe ask mistress about the time machine... FUCK!


Also Bell, you have every right to ignore this but I half to ask... was there a way to save her eyes? I just... I need to know.

>>108721
The way to save her eyes was to say "use the candles". We got punished for lack of attention.
Also fuck all of that gunpowder shit. I am going with the pistol barrel, is probably a lot smarter anyways

I think I need to go to bed, so I'll probably start a new thread tomorrow with the continuation.

>>108843
Alright, goodnight you crazy fucker (That's a compliment, this has been a crazy ride and I love it.)

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>>108922

My pleasure.

new thread when

>>111820

Sorry. Not today.