>>27702838
The very thought makes the horrible presence in your body tie your guts in hard, painful knots, and you cannot keep the pain out of your expression. As your knees go weak, he catches you by the arm, looking very alarmed. “Are you all right?” He is very much yours, you can tell, and that knowledge makes the painful twisting ease up enough that you can stand on your own....if you really want to.

[] “I'm all right; please, take me home.”
[] “I should go to the infirmary.”
[] “It nothing, you shouldn't worry about me. Go on, I'll be fine.”
[] Other.

Nice to see the quest up

[] “I'm all right; please, take me home.”

>Tonight we dine in.

>>27703135
Slow to start.

[x] “I'm all right; please, take me home.”

>>27703135
We should probably start thinking about where it's going to happen. He's bigger than we are.

>>27703177

We can just go cliché, it always works.

> "Just give me a moment to get ready," then knife the dude.

Wait, we still have the knife right?

>>27703235
We didn't check, but we're assuming the cold metal thing in our stocking garter is the straight razor. It might not be.

Steeling yourself, which is not easy given that you've just had your insides tied in knots (and there is an unnerving and very real possibility that this is not figuratively speaking), you put on a smile and shake your head. “I am all right, thank you. But, I would appreciate the ride home.” Speaking elegantly and eloquently comes naturally, at one time you were a Southern Belle, though it was far away, and in a time when you had a much easier time finding....people to ea – MEET. Meet. Yes.

The pain fades, but not entirely. You're no longer entirely on your own; the horrible thing that lives inside you isn't willing to leave anything up to you now. It's been too long, and you've been too close to too any people.

Fortunately, Samuel isn't interested in making you go to the medical station in the office, or to the hospital, especially when you walk without assistance. Well, without much assistance, for he offers you his arm, and it would be callous of you not to take it. His cat ears whir and straighten, and your curious look nets you a smile. “They're from Japan. They respond to muscle movement in the face and scalp, and respond to emotions, sort of. It's silly, but I thought it was kind of cool.”

Technology is a strange and frightening thing sometimes.

He holds the door open for you, but is reluctant to let go of your arm to let you walk through on your own. He seems genuinely interested in your well being, and despite the constant, slight ache in your belly you're none-the-worse-for-wear after your tumble. How much of that is luck and how much is your nature protecting you from any pain other than hunger pangs, you're not entirely sure. “My car is right over there,” he says, indicating a white Prius off to the side.

[Con't]

>>27703306
His car is a rather nice, or so you guess. You rarely drive, mostly because you got tired of the police doing thorough checks on falsified identification every time you got pulled over, which was every time you drove anywhere. It got to the point where it was less trouble, and less likely to get you into trouble, to let others drive you. Or take a bus, when you could do that.

Sam's car is a simple white car with a black interior, and he opens the door for you with a smile. As you buckle yourself in, he takes off the ridiculous animated cat ears and tail, before sliding into the seat next to yours. Sam's car is clean, and while it lacks the new car smell, it is obvious he hasn't done too much living in it yet. Certainly cleaner than the other car, back then. It was atrocious. So very sticky, but you hadn't intended to open up the artery do deep. And then you had to try and to strip his skin off by hand....

The world is bright and a little hot when Sam interrupts your reverie. “Are you sure you're okay?” You nod, and wanly smile, pointing out the direction to your home. Explaining it isn't very far nets you a smile. “Shouldn't take long at all. We can park nearby I hope.” In the back, actually – the privilege of the loft includes two personal parking spaces near the back of the building. “A loft, huh? That sounds neat. I mean, you see them in movies sometimes, but what's it like?”

[Con't]

>>27703317
Explaining that you are going to have to do some work on one of the bathrooms and the third bedroom, it is otherwise very nice. And while the main elevators can reach it, you also have use of the freight elevator, meaning you can usually go up immediately, instead of waiting on the normal elevator. Of course you still have to go through the lobby, but it's still handy on occasion.

“That sounds really nice, actually. I can walk you up, if you like....you seemed like you did a number on your ankle, back there in the restroom.” He glances at you, his concern written on his face like the writing in a book. It's almost painful to see how much concern he has for you, even over so short a time. And, while you may be a monster, perhaps soulless, you're not heartless, and it is a bit of a knife in your own heart to see him like this, knowing what will happen to him.

[] You're fine, but you wouldn't mind the company.
[] You can't go through with this, can you?
[] Run your hand along his leg, smile, and invite him to stay a while.
[] Other.

>>27703351

We probably don't want to come on too strong.

[] You're fine, but you wouldn't mind the company.

File: 1381596804538.gif-(3.27 MB, 356x200, 1380144175733.gif)

3.27 MB GIF

I'm going to eat you up!

>>27703351
[ x ] You're fine, but you wouldn't mind the company.

>>27703456
We can actually say this on some occasions. Everybody will think it erotic.

>>27703535
Or just cute, considering we look like a 14 year old.

[] You're fine, but you wouldn't mind the company.

You would like to say the smile is fake, but it isn't. You really would like to enjoy his company. Even as your guts start to turn into pins and needles, you move on to the fact of the matter: you're going to take advantage of his courtesy and abuse it to the point of death. The thing living inside you relents, a little, and you sigh, and manage to keep the smile, though it may have faltered a bit. “I am all right, thank you, Sam. I wouldn't mind some company though. I just moved into the city.”

“Really? Well, I'll be glad to come up, and uh....make sure you get home safely.” The blush is cute, and he really is an innocent sort. He can't keep his heart off of his sleeve to save his life. “And I could show you around town, if you like. I've lived here all my live. It's a pretty neat place, and if you know where to go you can find some pretty cool places.” Sam's attempted recovery can't help but make you giggle. He runs a hand through his mussed hair and grins sheepishly. “Yeah, that first part came out badly, sorry.”

It doesn't take much to reassure him, especially when you point out the turn that will lead to the driveway in back of the building. When he's concentrating on driving, you surreptitiously trace the metal object along your leg through your dress. Yes, it's your straight razor. You must have slipped it there on your way to the club. You don't remember doing it, but you also recall the walk was supposed to be further. In fact, the drive took longer than the walk. So....what else were you doing?

[Con't]

>>27703610
Sam parks in the stall along the alley way. There are two, in addition to the loading zone for the delivery trucks that show up on occasions. You haven't had much of a chance to find out exactly why this apartment complex needed one, but Max was delivering office supplies, so that's something. As you step out of the car the cooling afternoon breeze slaps you across your damp chest like a wet towel, and you shudder. Solicitous as ever, Sam takes off his sequined jacked and drapes it over your shoulders, gentleman that he is. You lead him to the front of the building, and naturally Sam opens and holds the door for you. Despite being cold and wet, his courtesy makes you feel better, even as the knowledge he will be dying in short time makes you duck your head in half shame and half appreciation.

Then the growling starts.

You freeze, recognizing the sound immediately: a dog. This one is accompanied by a 30-something woman in a nice dress and obviously intending to take him – the dog – out for a walk. The dog itself, who has much more of your attention, is a full grown Doberman. His ears and tail have been clipped, as usual for such animals, and he is a lean, beautiful animal, healthy and well fed. He is also growling at you threateningly, as all dogs larger than a terrier always do.

Working hard to suppress any sound that might come out of your mouth, you struggle with the conflicting responses. The biggest problem is that Samuel has caught up to you and is walking towards the dog in question, not realizing the animal is growling at you, rather than being generally aggressive. Certainly he's talking soothingly, and the dog's owner is looking befuddled, but the dog and you are the only two creatures in the room that matter. Because if you make the wrong move, the dog will try and kill you. If you make the right move, the dog will become terrified and cower.

[Con't.]

>>27703625
Naturally, because your life is always so simple, the right move means potentially letting others see a side of you they're not supposed to see. Specifically, one of your neighbors, and worse, your prey. On the other hand, a trip to the hospital after being savaged by an animal isn't exactly going to earn you any high marks in the 'finding food you can subsist on' department. The only reason that thought hasn't doubled you over in pain is because if you show the slightest weakness, the dog is going to try and kill you. And what is inside you sees the dog as competition, something to be chased out of your territory. It would take almost no effort at all to show the dog what the girl in the club caught only a glimpse of, and if you do that, then the dog is not going to ever bother you, or anyone else, ever again.

Which would also terrify the hell out of everyone else in the room if they see you do it. At the moment they're both interested in the dog, and the scant seconds it takes for you to take stock of this unfortunate situation have passed, leaving you with one hell of a choice. On the other hand, there is a lot of opportunity at a hospital....you can't even believe you're considering it a viable alternative. But Sam might visit you....that's a good thing, that's a thing that could be beneficial in the long wrong, even starving as you are.

[] Try and escape out the door.
[] Cower, take the attack, try and survive.
[] Let the dog see behind the mask.
[] Other.

>>27703632
>Get out the door

Tell Sam we're scared of dogs.
If we do get attacked, try and lead Sam into our apartment to patch ourselves up; surely we have a first aid kit in the bathroom. After that, we can eat him.

>>27703632
[] Cower, take the attack, try and survive.

>>27703695

> This, running from the big dog shouldn't seem out of place.

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>>27703632

Fake a dog phobia. Go weak, hide behind Sam. Try to get past with him as a shield.

You don't even have to fake the fear. The part where the fear is centered on showing the side of you that you work so very hard to keep under wraps is something no one but you need to know. You reach back for the door, and the dog lunges, the woman jerked forward by the leash as the animal tries to dart past Sam. She looks absolutely bewildered, which is probably the result of the dog being even tempered and nice. Sam also jerks out of the way, more because he's finally figured out that the dog is about to try and tear someone – namely you – limb from limb than any real fear of the dog.

Of course he's fearless, he's a naïve child who is going to be raw, bloody meat. The dog could be raw, bloody meat. It wouldn't even take much to grab it by the -

You scream, more to get the horrific vision of how you dealt with the other dogs in your life out of your head than anything else. Scrambling for the door you manage to push it open....and a split second later you realize you're no safer here because the doors open OUT. You throw all your weight against the door, and are still nearly knocked on your derrière because the dog is throwing itself against the door, eyes rolling, jaws slavering and snapping against the glass. It's in an absolute frenzy trying to get to you. The woman pulls the beast away from the door and you start to relax.

>>27703982

The second assault DOES knock you on your behind, and it claws at the concrete as it rushes you. The scream that erupts from your throat is a much more terrified scream, because you are looking into a red maw filled with fangs and tongue and blood, about to be eaten alive. There is a high pitched yelp as the dog tumbles backwards, and tries to scramble to it's feet. The woman jerked the dog's leash so hard she actually pulled it off its feet. Then the dog is up and trying for you again. The only saving grace is that now, Sam is helping the woman pull on the leash; together they manage to pull the dog across the linoleum flooring of the lobby.

The woman is speaking to Sam in a rush, probably explaining the dog's behavior as weird, abnormal, and confusing. You're on your ass, shaking like a leaf, heedless of the passers by on the sidewalk, your dress dirty, wet and cold, your heart trip-hammering in your chest. But it isn't just nearly having your face eaten off by a mad-dog, which is being stuffed in an elevator by your would be rescuer. No, the part that has you really afraid is you actually have a better understanding of what it is like to be on the receiving end of one of your vicious, angry, hungry self, to look into the face of ravening destruction, catch a glimpse of...of THAT thing.

Sam hurries out and helps you up, his worry for you justified this time. The gnawing ache in your belly is back, even more painful and intense than before, as there is no longer any doubt that he cares about you. “God damn, are you okay?! I've never seen anything like that!” The knowledge that there is no hope for him now, no escape, only the inevitable death blooms in your mind, and the thing in your guts writhes, surges, as you accept that there is only one ending now.

[] Swoon.
[] You're okay, you think....
[] Break down.
[] Other.

>>27703991
[ x ] Swoon.
Let him support us, and lets go into the elevator.

Also, once we're done, what are we going to do about the car? We cant have a missing person's car parked in our lot. We should find a solution to the car.
Also, are there any security cameras recording us with him around our home?

>>27703991
[x] You're okay, you think....
Gotta keep it together for a little while longer.

>>27703991
Let the "hero" have his moment but once he is in our loft we eat him

>>27703991
>[X] Swoon.

Do you guys think maybe we can sleep with him before we kill him?

>>27703991
Swoon. We only need to get him up the elevator to our home now. Maybe tell him we hurt our ankle?

This time you do not have to pretend – you really are unable to walk easily, and it is as much from relief as it is from the burning hunger. Samuel, however, is up to the task of carrying you; you're not really all that heavy, and he leaves his jacket lying on the floor in favor of getting you to the bench near the freight elevator. As he goes back for his jacket, you glance at the camera in the corner of the lobby, and its twin in the opposite corner, keeping an eye on the elevators and the front door, respectively. The lights are off, however, and there is no indication that they are active. If they are active, you haven't the foggiest idea where they are sending to. You did break the one in your own hallway – you had planned on replacing it with one you could tap into.

Fortunately, there is a fire escape outside, and that is definitely unmonitored. When you have more time to think, there will be a way around it. Now, you are gathered up into strong arms, carried into the fright elevator, which is otherwise empty. He's already touched the button for the penthouse, and his nearness is soothing, a balm for belly and heart and mind.

“Sorry for taking liberties, Sibyl....I don't want you to worry.” He smiles, and you can see that familiar flush starting in his cheeks, with your arms around his neck and body pressed close to his.

“I won't. You're here.”

[Con't.]

>>27704509
That DOES make him blush. Never mind that the words also keep the ravening hunger at bay, only a few minutes more. The elevator stops on the eleventh floor, and a chilling hate seeps into your veins as the horrible thing that is part of you ignores the fact that you could be compromised, discovered. There is no one at the doors however, and more importantly, you don't see any cameras in the hallway that is revealed. The doors close and the elevator continues on its way towards your home.

Poor Sam is a nervous wreck by the time you reach the hallways that leads to your loft. It's easy to tell why – you can feel it poking along your side slightly as he adjusts you in his arms. You may be light, but the dress is heavy, and damp. The hall is empty of course, and you can see the exposed wires you cut on the camera as he walks towards the door. By a miracle, you still have your clutch, and Sam sets you on your feet as you reach the door.

While you collect your keys in shaking hand, you manage a glance at the young man. Oh, he is definitely not used to holding a pretty young girl in his arms, and slacks are the least effective way of concealing that fact. To his credit he only drapes his coat over his arm to hide it, rather than adjusting himself. Your eyes meet his, and he starts to speak, perhaps making some kind of excuse or begging off. It's predictable – he's been a perfect gentleman this entire time, and at twenty or so, you have seen men such as him falter when presented with the possibility of someone of your apparent age inviting them in.

[] Invite him in, for a moment.
[] Let him speak his peace.
[] Tell him that it's all right, he's safe with you.
[] Other.

>>27704522
>[X] Invite him in, for a moment.

>>27704522
[X] Invite him in, for a moment.

I'm not sure what the other options mean

>>27704622
Peace=> Piece. You're interrupting him unless you do this, he was about to speak.
The third, of course, is blatant flirting on your part.

Invite him in!

>>27704522
[x] Invite him in, for a moment.
But flutter those lashes so he can't plead ignorance.

>>27704644
Oh thanks, I was confused by the peace

>>27704522
[X] Tell him that it's all right, he's safe with you.

>>27704522
[X] Tell him that it's all right, he's safe with you.

>>27704522
[ x ] Invite him in, for a moment.
Stop babbling already, we are hungry.

“Please come in, Samuel.” It isn't difficult to put your bright eyes and full lips to work; you were playing Ingénue before the term had a meaning. You open the door, then pause, looking at him still. He hesitates, and you lower your gaze, eyelashes lowered. “I mean....if you have time....”

Whatever he was going to say dies upon his tongue, his throat working as he swallows nervously. His eyes drift across your chest, the stained lace, the damp material. It doesn't take a genius to figure out where the young man's mind goes, especially with you leading him by the....nose. Yes, that. “Ah....all right, but just for a short while....” The poor man follows you into the house as you walk through the door.

Though you have a number of boxes, they're all stacked up along one wall; your furniture has been placed, as have your dishes and silverware; you pay well for good service, after all. So your home is no disaster area at all, despite still moving in. More importantly, there are no doors closed, allowing him to look around as much as he likes. The windows along the exterior wall are ceiling high. And the blinds open, giving a lovely view of the buildings opposite, most of them office buildings with no one at work. The ceiling fans turn lazily, more to provide air movement than to cool the place entirely. Stuffy places drive you....upset you.

The large couch is slightly overstuffed, and the smooth pleather easily cleaned; the coffee table has several art books and a stack of coasters sitting upon the glass. The floors are polished wood, again, easily cleaned, and the kitchen is tile flooring and has a central induction stove and mini-barbecue set up, in addition to the usual sundries – such as the large freezer drawer on the bottom of the fridge. Not that you use it often. You haven't put up much décor, but despite that your house-guest is frankly amazed.

>>27704961
“This place is huge....you live here all by yourself?” That would be your apparent age rearing its ugly head. But you can forgive him, easily. He's been nothing but kind and gentlemanly. And as you close and lock the door – with a key – you know you have all the time in the world now, so long as you keep the eventuality in mind. You will be fed, and that makes the pain bearable. “I mean...well, you know....”

You laugh softly, explaining that you do know, and despite your looks, you really are old enough to live on your own.

[] Would he like something to drink?
[] Would he mind helping you undo the wicked – and sticky, and wet – corset?
[] Would he like a tour?
[] Other.

>>27704972
>[x] Would he mind helping you undo the wicked – and sticky, and wet – corset?

Because why the hell not?

>>27704972
>[X] Would he mind helping you undo the wicked – and sticky, and wet – corset?

>>27704972
>[x] Would he like something to drink?

>>27704972
[] Would he like something to drink?

>>27704972
Offer a drink, and get changed.

>>27705174
This

>>27704972
drag him along for a tour and when we find a good place to finish him we will do it!

“Would you like something to drink?” You gesture for him to sit, which he doesn't do immediately, and glide to the kitchen. What you pour for him is not juice of the grape except in the most vague of fashions; it was actually blackberries at one point. You suspect he'd only drink enough of anything to be polite, of course. Sam is that kind of man. On the other hand, a little liquid courage might be just the thing for him. You pour yourself a glass as well.

He does follow you to the kitchen, and you smile at his surprise when you hand him the half full glass of blackberry wine. “I helped make this. A friend of mine was an amateur vintner.” Strictly true; he was more than a friend. You had to move on soon after; he was well liked in the community, small though it was in those days. You sip the wine slowly and shiver at the memories it brings with it. The meat that you ate with it.

“That's....really good.” He sounds surprised, and you explain that since the laws about home brewed wine allow for it to be stronger and have less factory made chemicals in it, the flavor is much richer and less acrid. You allow yourself one more sip, before you excuse yourself to the bedroom, to remove the soiled dress.

You leave the door to your room open halfway, on purpose.

[Con't.]

>>27705418
Naturally when you inquire about his family – more for your own protection than mere conversation – his voice carries from the kitchen. With a sigh, you pull the straight razor from your stocking-top, and blink. The blade is gone, removed, not broken. All you had was a handle. As you wonder what exactly you did on your walk, his voice wafts into your room from afar.

“Well, I have a room-mate, but I'm in college here. My parents live in the next state over, not too far a trip, but not close enough that they're in my hair every day.” Better and better, it's the beginning of the weekend, after all, and he's not likely to be missed for days, or more. “I'm hoping to get a degree in computer sciences, but the only way I'm going to get a job right now is through an internship.” You glide silently to the closet; the box lid is well oiled, and taking a new razor from it is silent enough. “What do you do, Sibyl? Obviously you can afford a place like this....” He sounds doubtful, as you close the closet door, and look at your make-up stained, pale face in the mirror. “It is a really nice place too.”

As you remove the gloves and stockings, you come up against a problem. The velvet and silk is not just sticky. It's stuck. Isn't it? Of course it is. And the ties are hard to reach, of course. Yes. “Sam....” He sounds a little closer. “Could you give me a hand with this please?” Dead silence. “I am afraid my corset needs more than two hands to take if off now, it's too damp and I can't grasp it properly.” More silence. Poor thing. “Sam?” You grip the straight razor – the complete one – tightly and quietly glide out to the hallway, wearing the dress and your jewelery alone. You hand behind your back, you look at him, and the way he looks at you, as his flushed face and wandering eyes take in the sight.

[Con't.]

>>27705444
>[X] Patience; enjoy it.

>>27705444
[X] Coax him somewhere better.
Best to keep things clean if possible.

>>27705432
>>27705432 (You)
“Please?” you ask quietly, providing the last bit of impetus for him to move close. You turn your back to him, looking at him in the full length mirror of your closed closet. He moves close indeed, and starts to work on the side lacing of the corset, which actually are quite difficult to get undone. You made sure of that before you left. Razor concealed in the folds of your dress, it would take only and instant to lay him open wide, even though it's in the hallway.

[] Patience; enjoy it.
[] Strike now....
[] Coax him somewhere better.
[] Other.

>>27705465
>>27705484
These are taken into account. I forgot some wording.

>>27705492
[x] Coax him somewhere better.
Don't want to spill blood just anywhere. Besides, gotta get the fucking corset open before we off him or it'll be a bitch to deal with.

>>27705492
>[X] Patience; enjoy it.

>>27705492
Patience; let's give him a few more minutes to live.

>>27705492
Enjoy the moment while it lasts

>>27705492
>[X] Patience; enjoy it.

At least he won't die a virgin

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The feel of his hands working at the ties of the corset is at once familiar and unsettling. Familiar, because it has been done so many times in the past (Where? When?) and unsettling because it is so familiar (The smell of whiskey and gunpowder and dust.) to you. You shiver, and he pauses. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, Sam. Please go on. It's....kind of nice to have some help.” It is. To feel the warmth of his breath in your hair, the movements of his fingers – there, the laces gave on that side. He pulls them free, and starts to step back. “The other side too, please, Sam.” You lower your head, and glance back at him. “It's all right. I don't mind.” He's flushed again, and this time there isn't a convenient jacket to hide his reaction. You had forgotten how powerful you could be, under the right circumstances, how easy it is to encourage a man to do your bidding.

To follow you anywhere.

“May I ask you a favor Sam?”

He pauses for a few seconds, then goes back to work on the corset. You can feel the sticky, wet material clinging to your breasts, your skin, and it's far less pleasant cold than it has been warm. “Sure, I mean....yeah. Yes.” Why are young men such murderers of the English language? You do it on purpose.

“Would you wash my hair for me?”

Samuel is nothing if not good at being quiet. You're not sure he's still breathing.

“I don't have any room mates.”

“I....are you sure?” You feel the other lacing come free, and turn, holding the bustier up to your chest with one arm, gathering a handful of the skirts in your razor-laden hand. You look at him, those soft, uncertain eyes, the hot cheeks and red ears. You keep your eyes on his.

“I'm certain, Sam.”

Something hot and slick surges in your belly, and your blood is singing, your heart thunder in your head.

You're absolutely certain.

>To be continued tomorrow morning...
>I'll be here for about 20 minutes to answer questions.

Pastebin is updated. I may start a little later tomorrow, or i can hold of until next Saturday, depending on preferences. I note there are a lot of early morning quests on /tg/ on Sat and Sunday (I follow at least one myself.)

inceany

Rolled 100

>>27705864
whatever works for you bro. I am loving this quest and hope it'll continue on

>>27705986
Your feedback is appreciated. I am enjoying running it. I just have the bad luck to run during the worst time possible. As long as a few people like it, I'll at the very least finish it.

Besides, it's October Country.

Your roll has been considered for result of Sibyl's seduction skill.

>>27706010
sweet

We have pretty good tastes (huehuehue) in men. He seems nice but not in a sleazy, boring kind of way.

>>27706109
Sleaze is easy, Non-boring nice is much more challenging.

>>27705864
I really like your writing. You do a good job.

>>27706195
Indeed. You've done a great work here, OP.
Reverse (Battle) harem quest when? I think you could pull it off.

>>27706275
If you mean Tager Quest perhaps after I make the switch to full time graves again. Lots of extra time then.

>>27706319
Full time Graves? I don't know anything of Tager Quest.

>>27706275
>>27706350
I work graveyard shift, meaning while I am on the west coast, I share /tg/ with our European and Austrialian brethren and sistren.

I am/was using this as a trial run for a Cthulhutech Tager Quest, concerning a pack of Tagers as they move from training to the symbiont ritual and beyond. With much questionable sexuality, Azathonian horror, and character driven growth/upgrades.

>>27706445
I like everything about the second paragraph.

Rolled 64

>>27706109
hue? Shouldn't it be Ufufufufu?

>>27706666
Nah, Ufufufufu~ is for when you're teasing or aroused, not commenting on your own terrible sense of humour.

>>27706445
I love the C-Tech setting, looking forward to it.