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File: ckq1.png (209 KB, 404x607)
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Part 1: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/4819167/

Recap: You're a sick, young son of a bitch who abducts women, violates them, then mutilates their corpses. Your body count? Two... and a half. For now. You're also a junior detective for Velton County Police Department in the swampy Southern USA. Due to poor execution (of body disposal, not the actual execution, which was glorious...), one of your victims was found. Due to the shockingly gruesome nature and terrible offense done to the public's sensibilities, you were responsible for investigating, and you are yet to see who will take the blame for your deeds, as it's currently in the hands of your begrudging detective cohorts, Jimmy Waters and Donavan Black. In the meantime, you went and got another victim, who is snugly in your sound-proofed, subterranean torture chamber basement.

Enough of the past. Let's get back to work, you dirty dog, you.

>Roll 2d10!!!

Mandie B. Reckin-Dwith, a ditzy coed from Pell University, is hanging from your sewage pipe that runs through your basement ceiling. Thick rope is chewing at her naked wrists. Your brutal mental and physical barrage have weakened her to the human equivalent of a shattered mirror. She'll never be repaired. Never be the same. She's broken. You grin wide and continue your assault. You throw the second-to-last prepared bucket of ice water at Mandie B., to jolt her from her catatonia, then immediately seize her screaming vocal cords with the crocodile maws which are your hands.

After passing out from your gurgle-inducing chokehold, you untie her from the strappado and watch her bloodless, unconscious arms flop back in front of her, then she collapses entirely. Luckily and mercifully, you catch her before she clunks her noggin on your 'crete. Mandie B's shoulders are likely so out of joint now that she won't be able to lift anything heavier than a cotton ball for days. Her wrists are raw with deep red ligature marks. You slap your department-issued handcuffs on the slender Ms. Reckin-Dwith, and pull her to a chair from an old dining set your parents left you along with your house. Good ol' Pop Pop. Probably smiling down (or up) at you now.
Who was your dad, again? (One roll goes to this)
>>
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1-2: Deranged Darren, a man with similar tendencies as you, only he got caught and rotted away in Ciappa Maximum Security Penitentiary. The town breathed a sigh when he passed and you took up the path of the lawman, but they never really took their eye off of you.(++Susp.)
3-5 "Willy Wifebeater" is what the neighborhood knew him as, poor ol' mum. The one time the neighborhood tried to confront him on your porch, he fired his 20 Gauge turkey gun into the air, everyone scattered, and that was the end of that. That only helped to isolate you, who was already a bit of an outcast.(+Susp.)
6-8: Quiet Quinten. Not a very notable man. When he passed, after the obituary came out in the Velton County Journal, many of your neighbors came by with gifts and sincere condolences. (-Susp.)
9-10: Commissioner Gordon - a town hero/local legend, and the man who taught Commissioner Seth Higgins everything he knows about police work. There's a bronze bust of him in the station, and a mural on a wall near Jon's Supermarket. (--Susp.)

With the previous fat pig's corpse out of the lake, there's going to be some background radiation suspicion that will be difficult (near-impossible) to get rid of, even if the fall guy for your crime never contests the killing and diddling. That's a thought that will make you sweat later, but not now. Not with the attractive Mandie B. Reckin-Dwith in front of you.

You stop thinking about your last lay and your Pop Pop, and ice-bucket Mandie B. awake. No time for stress during romance. "Study this chair, you retard," you belittle the college student. "I'll be back with more ice soon. Try to escape, and skriiiick," you draw your thumb across your neck, and Mandie B. understands.

You collect a half-dozen empty, haphazardly-littered 2-gallon metal buckets from your cold basement floor. You fill 3 of them with ice, emptying your fridge's ice maker. You leave another liter of cold milk on the counter to warm up for when you're finished. You grab one more Tool and head down the basement stairs. That tool? It was:
>Flail - The Cat of Nine Tails, Leather, Made by Slappy of Slappy's Sex Shop
>Occult Object - The Shattered Queen's Last Candle
>Headwear - Cat ears
>Utility Bill - Water
>Write in - ???
>>
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"Okay, bitch, you've been studying that chair, correct? Speak."

Mandie B., in her frailty, meeps out a shrill, shaking, "C-c-correct..."

"THEN WHAT COLOR IS THE CUSHION, WHORE???!!! SPEAK!"

She gets it wrong, naturally.

"I thought!" (You slam your Tool in her face)
"You were!" (You slam your Tool in her face again)
"A student!" (You are now sadistically rubbing your Tool in her face, then pull it back)
"And you can't even study?!?!" (Deep inhale)
"WHERE?!" (Tool smash)
"ARE?!" (Tool smash)
"MY?!" (Tool smash)
"TAXES?!" (Tool smash)
"GOING?!?!?!!?!" (Tool smash!!?!??!?!??!!!?)

Bloody-nosed and more compliant than ever, you become her newest professor. Your first lesson to teach? An instruction on how to be a ladderback. You forcefully smash her knees and elbows to the ground and tell her that if she drops you, you will absolutely obliterate her skull into tiny little unrecognizable pieces. Her arms immediately bow and she collapses and cries, ball-gag long gone so you could savor the squeals. Some say fear makes the meat spoil. You say it makes the meat sweet. You're admittedly a little jumbled and over-inquisitive in your expedition, but it's fun, and you're resourceful. Your cuffs and rope rig help you manipulate the young woman into a non-consentual chair.

Then you sit on your bitch throne, satisfied. You begin to:
>Catch up on your reading. Isn't this how most people of class and refinement conduct themselves in their free time?
>Ask her a series of questions about her upbringing. Debate politics. See what sports teams she likes (trick question). Ask her if she'll marry you.
>Dump more ice water on her head and put out cigarettes on her. Develop an arbitrary point system.
>Mumble the mantra of the Radio That Screeches Truth From The Other Side, obviously. Duh.
>Write in - ???

After nearly two hours of this, you break down the breathing furniture and get down to business once you can't keep it in your pants any longer. You rub your hotdog in between her sesame chest-buns until your mustard is everywhere. You like this one so much that you need to keep her for a few more days or weeks or eternities. You are exhausted. It's time to go to sleep. Your warm milk and fresh mustard should be enough nutrition for now, you'll feed her in the morning. You handcuff every extremity, then strappado and choke Mandie B. Reckin-Dwith to sleep, then head upstairs without cleaning up your wet mess. You grab your warm milk and sleep the best sleep since Ena Fuvya was slain and dumped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Suspicion Roll: 2.51
(Avg. of rolls must be above this number, or you will become a suspect!)
(One roll goes to this)
>>
Rolled 4, 6 = 10 (2d10)

>Occult Object - The Shattered Queen's Last Candle
Come on, it's cool, don't be a faggot and pick something obvious like a flail.
>Mumble the mantra of the Radio That Screeches Truth From The Other Side, obviously. Duh.
More occult shit, come on.
>>
Rolled 9, 3 = 12 (2d10)

>>4880555
>Flail - The Cat of Nine Tails, Leather, Made by Slappy of Slappy's Sex Shop
>Dump more ice water on her head and put out cigarettes on her. Develop an arbitrary point system.
>>
Rolled 10, 4 = 14 (2d10)

>>4880553
>Occult Object - The Shattered Queen's Last Candle

>Catch up on your reading. Isn't this how most people of class and refinement conduct themselves in their free time?
I think "class and refinement" sums it all up
>>
Rolled 7, 3 = 10 (2d10)

>>4880555
>Flail - The Cat of Nine Tails, Leather, Made by Slappy of Slappy's Sex Shop
>Ask her a series of questions about her upbringing. Debate politics. See what sports teams she likes (trick question). Ask her if she'll marry you.
>>
Rolled 7, 6 = 13 (2d10)

>>4880555
>Flail - The Cat of Nine Tails, Leather, Made by Slappy of Slappy's Sex Shop
>Dump more ice water on her head and put out cigarettes on her. Develop an arbitrary point system.
>>
Rolled 2, 5 = 7 (2d10)

>>4880555
>Occult
>Upbringing
>>
Rolled 7, 10 = 17 (2d10)

>>4880555
>Flail - The Cat of Nine Tails, Leather, Made by Slappy of Slappy's Sex Shop

>Ask her a series of questions about her upbringing. Debate politics. See what sports teams she likes (trick question). Ask her if she'll marry you.
>Dump more ice water on her head and put out cigarettes on her. Develop an arbitrary point system.
>>
Re-honing myself to focus on this quest. Update coming tomorrow morning. 4 days for an update, rather pitiful, I know. I'm hoping to return to 1-2 days per update after this. Thanks for sticking with me, sorry if you've been scared away. Semi-drastic changes in my life/schedule recently, just enough to make creative/collaborative storytelling more of a luxury than it used to be. You often don't know what you've got until it's gone, etc.

(Voting locked)
>>
>>4886624
alright, see you soon then. quality first
>>
Normally you beat the buzzer by at least an hour or two. Not today.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P9BfvPjsXXw

Your alarm clock radio buzzes to life. You buzz to life. You buzz around your house, throwing off and throwing on clothes. If there's any buzzing in the basement, you don't leave the door open long enough to notice it over your buzzing. You overslept.

You just throw a box of Frosted Flakes down the basement stairs in the general direction of your bound woman to taunt her. She seems to be taking a shine to your sense of humor, though, so you think she'll appreciate the joke. Your woman. You know her so well now.

Her favorite cuisine?
Mediterranean

Hobbies?
Rollerblading, Photography

Dream Vacation?
Zanzibar

It was fun to pipe these questions out while sitting on your obedient chair. Putting out a few Camel 99's over its butt cheeks, back and abdomen. Dumping two of the three buckets on its head. You got to learn so much from her.

There was a time when she made a noise that... Well, let's not touch upon that emotion... Suffice to say, you felt something in you euphoric and evolving, brave and brazen. You felt proud to have staked your claims, but have an itching feeling you could climb ever-higher peaks in this hunt. You will see this girl's entire identity morphed. Rebuilt? Or split it twain? ...or rent into oblivion? No matter her fate, it's in your hands now.
>>
You decide on your way out the door that it might be time for a name change for the woman. What is her new identity?
>Mandie B. (Your Last Name). You will shape her like Play-doh.
>Nothing, yet, she is still Mandie B. Reckin-Dwith. For now. She'll submit willingly in due time.
>Filthia? Garbagetta? Dirtina? Who cares... You're done with this one... It's time to snuff her...
>Write in - ???

The drive to work is dangerous and quick, since your head is in the clouds. The station is pretty empty when you get there, so you spend most of the day in your office clearing emails and preparing to go back to Pell University to investigate the hazing ...and furiously masturbating over last night's memories. Boy, this southern heat sure is dehydrating.

Bumbling Jimmy Waters barges into the break room, looks around, and sees no one but you at the water cooler. He approaches you and announces that the Ena Fuvya case has been closed. It's being pinned on an ancient death row inmate who was happy to take the raps for others, in exchange for a greased palm, so he could help out his disabled brother. Black clouds, silver linings. All very hush-hush. On the down low. Jimmy says he owes Don $2,500 by next week for the coverup. That smells, you think. You know how to deal with that crooked Donavan Black:

Choose one:
>Go on a spy mission with Jimmy.
>Go on a solo spy mission.
>Send Jimmy on a solo spy mission.
>No spying. Just wait.
And choose one:
>See Don's next move if Jimmy doesn't pay.
>Help Jimmy pay the hush money.

Soon after this, you feel relief to know that people won't be looking for Ena's killer (You) anymore. (--Suspicion)
[Suspicion level: 1.5/10 (So low, no need to roll this "turn")]

You get home a few hours early, and it's a good thing. Something is OFF. You're sweating.
>Roll 1d10! (Mode will be used)
7-10: She snapped one of your expensive rope-and-pulley systems. Bitch.
5-6: She somehow broke free from her confines, trashed your house, and is on the phone with police as soon as you burst in your door.
3-4: She runs out the door and is spotted by your neighbors right as you are approaching your door! You capture her, but have some splaining to do.
1-2: She fuckin' escaped!! She's nowhere to be found, and the sewage pipe she was attached to is flooding your basement with vile excrement!
>>
>>4888651
>>Nothing, yet, she is still Mandie B. Reckin-Dwith. For now. She'll submit willingly in due time.

>Go on a spy mission with Jimmy.
>See Don's next move if Jimmy doesn't pay.

I think you need to indicate what was voted for and further elaborate it in detail because it is sometimes hard to follow what happened on the previous post.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>4888651
>Go on a spy mission with Jimmy.
>See Don's next move if Jimmy doesn't pay
>>
Rolled 6 (1d10)

>>4888686
>>
Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>4888651
>>Nothing, yet, she is still Mandie B. Reckin-Dwith. For now. She'll submit willingly in due time.
>Go on a spy mission with Jimmy.
>See Don's next move if Jimmy doesn't pay.
>>
Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>4888651
>Nothing, yet, she is still Mandie B. Reckin-Dwith. For now. She'll submit willingly in due time.
She isn't worthy yet.
>>
Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>4888651
>>Write in - ???
Worm

>No spying. Just wait.
>Help Jimmy pay the hush money.
>>
>>4888776
>>4888686
>Indicate what was voted for
I can start doing that. Some of the options that were chosen haven't been brought full circle (like the questions) and some haven't been mentioned explicitly yet but are very much in play (the flail) and will be brought up later
>>
Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>4888651
>>Filthia? Garbagetta? Dirtina? Who cares... You're done with this one... It's time to snuff her...
>>Go on a solo spy mission.
>>See Don's next move if Jimmy doesn't pay.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d10)

>>4888651
>Nothing, yet, she is still Mandie B. Reckin-Dwith. For now. She'll submit willingly in due time.
>No spying. Just wait.
>Help Jimmy pay the hush money.
>>
Rolled 4, 3, 1, 4, 4, 8, 10, 3, 9, 8 = 54 (10d10)

Split between 5,5,6 and 8,9,10. The FIRST DICE roll containing a 5,6,7,8,9 or 10 will decide how far Mandie got in her escape attempt. Gratefully, it looks like she didn't get too far...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As your grip and turn your brass doorknob, you can feel your soul being gripped and turned with it.

You feel as if all of Veltonian Suburbia may as well be watching, a dozen track homes with clear sights of your house's front door.

The lump in your chest dissipates. No time for fear. No time for hesitation.

You key/blast open your door to reveal...
>>
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>>4888651
Name change?
>Nothing, yet. The broth of love is best heated low and slow.
Spy mission?
>With Jimmy Waters
Pay Don's fee?
>Pffft, hell no!
Escape attempt? (rolls)
>Your basement door is still bolted locked once you enter your abode, and you let out the sigh of all sighs. King Sigh. Sigh-o-nara. Sigh-ning out. Sometimes God gives you a Sigh-n. Upon inspection of the cellar, your hoe barely snapped a rope or two, and is still snug in your torture/love device, albeit in a more painful and compromising position.

You are furious at the sight of the young woman dangling from your sturdy sewage pipe. She's destroyed the tethers to your workbench and human cage, leaving both of those objects turned on their sides. There is broken glass, a tool box-worth of assorted tools, and paperwork scattered all over the wet floor. Flies buzzing over the milk and water that you let soak into the cellar floor. "How long have you been spinning there, Worm?" Whereas she was droning a low moan before she was aware of you, she now lets out panicked tears and muffled yelps behind her pink ball gag.

You notice some bran sticking out of the corners of the ball gag, and look at the floor and see the Frosted Flakes box has exploded all over the floor. You still don't understand the physics of exactly went on, but your basement is a mess, and your captive likely injured herself in her escape attempt. What an enterprising little girl. Still, she will need punishment for this transgression.

You don't quite know what to do. You've never been in this position before. It's such a rush of emotion. You head upstairs, fill up an ice bucket, light a Camel. Then you walk downstairs again, post up a wooden dining chair, and sit backwards on it while smoking and staring at Mandie B.

You smoke half a pack before you decide your next move.
Brb, smoking half a pack to decide our next move.
>>
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>>>>>>>>>ROLL
>>>>>>>>>2
>>>>>>>>>d
>>>>>>>>>10
>>>>>>>>>!!

"You made a mess, Mandieeeeeeee," you saccharinely sing as you cut down and catch the body, and prop it in your chair.

She whimpers like the puppy she thought was dwelling in your basement.

You retrieve Slappy's braided leather cat, and carelessly brandish. She winces. You chuckle, and turn for a second to flash your boombox on, then return to your prize.

youtube.com/watch?v=-8gVmD39AmI

92.3 KTWRP is the station; Boogie Jay Skeeter is the DJ, and he announces the next song by Orgy.

It's goosebumpingly loud, and the way the inadequate speakers reverberate in your cool-aired lair gives this moment that je ne sais quoi.

"Well? Are you goiNG TO CLEAN THIS UP!?!!!?!?!!!!!!?" You rip off the ball gag while blowing scream-spit at your petite amie.

She scrambles, then her arms give, and she collapses to the ground. Crying, of course. Not too loudly. Not like an ocean wave or waterfall. Soothingly. Like a light forest river's trickle. Ahhhhhh. Music to your ears. You throw the flail to the side and put out your cigarette on the inquisitive liberal arts major. "Trying to leave me already, bitch? What's wrong?" You crawl to her face like a panther, and she weakly paws at you with limp wrists and bloodless, dead, prey hands. You pin those down in seconds, laughing. "I thought you were taking a shine to meeee." In the kerfuffle, she splashed some of the filthy, cellar floor milk-water in your face, and it's also soaked clear through the shins of your pants as you mounted her.

The atmosphere is a raging erotic whirlwind, giving you a hardon tougher than all the gold bars in Fort Knox.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>4890499
Aight, I'll throw a die (even if I already rolled dogshit last time)
>>
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(well that failed to look cool... please roll 2d10 regardless)

Alright Rico Suave, it's a late-Summer, Monday afternoon and your bitch is in heat. Choose your next move wisely. Or passionately. Just get in there and do your thing! Go get 'em, tiger! [Choose one (1):]
>Oddly enough, you make the sweetest, most pure and innocent, gentle sex you've ever made, right there on the swampy concrete floor. True love? At least that was your perspective, Mandie B. may have seen it with a different point of view.
>Ride hard, put away wet. Young Miss Reckin-Dwith sure was a comfy chair last night. With the remaining ropes this bitch didn't ruin, you could lay her out as a quartered hammock, or soggy mattress. Lounge on her and talk to her some more while you kill your Camels, squishing lit butts on her belly and limbs. Ice bucket grand finale.
>Smash her pelvis with your pelvis. Smash her lips with your tongue. Smash her teeth with the nearby hammer. Smash her neck with the glass milk bottle shards. Sm-ahh shit, she's dead? ...Yep, yup, she's dead.
>You take her upstairs, bathe her, throw her in your bed, take her, then lie with her for a moment. This will be her first taste of freedom. Back in the cage she goes after this courtship ritual.
>Write in - ???
(One of your rolls goes to this)

*chef kiss* M'wah!

...

You think it might be time to go see Dr. Lipschitz again. Big time. After slinking up the cellar stairs, you schedule the appointment for tomorrow morning over the the phone, then step in to the shower.

After drying off, from your second-story bedroom, you see your next-door neighbor Carolina getting her clothes from the dryer, like clockwork. Completely clean from the escapade earlier, you throw on your best casual duds and head over to her house to apologize for your weird behavior. You don't think stalking is weird, but whatever.
>Obsequiously apologize, and offer to give her a hand with her laundry.
>Invite her to your home for tea and cookies.
>Sow the seeds of division. "I couldn't help but notice yesterday, you and your husband were arguing about your kid ditching school all the time. I don't wanna be the bad guy *raise palms and chuckle*, but that is a serious offense here in Velton, ma'am. Is there anything I, as an officer of the law, can do to help you?"
>Write in - ???
(One of your rolls goes to this)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Coming next post: Reactions to this post's actions, the rest of monday night with Mandie B., a morning appointment with Dr. Lipschitz in Millard Hills, spying with Jimmy, and mayyybe some detective work at Pell University (P.U.).

[Suspicion level: 2/10. No roll this "turn"]
>>
Rolled 8, 3 = 11 (2d10)

>>4890710
>Ride hard, put away wet. Young Miss Reckin-Dwith sure was a comfy chair last night. With the remaining ropes this bitch didn't ruin, you could lay her out as a quartered hammock, or soggy mattress. Lounge on her and talk to her some more while you kill your Camels, squishing lit butts on her belly and limbs. Ice bucket grand finale.
>Sow the seeds of division. "I couldn't help but notice yesterday, you and your husband were arguing about your kid ditching school all the time. I don't wanna be the bad guy *raise palms and chuckle*, but that is a serious offense here in Velton, ma'am. Is there anything I, as an officer of the law, can do to help you?"
>>
Rolled 7, 10 = 17 (2d10)

>>4890710
>>Smash her pelvis with your pelvis. Smash her lips with your tongue. Smash her teeth with the nearby hammer. Smash her neck with the glass milk bottle shards. Sm-ahh shit, she's dead? ...Yep, yup, she's dead.
>Sow the seeds of division. "I couldn't help but notice yesterday, you and your husband were arguing about your kid ditching school all the time. I don't wanna be the bad guy *raise palms and chuckle*, but that is a serious offense here in Velton, ma'am. Is there anything I, as an officer of the law, can do to help you?"
>>
Rolled 6, 5 = 11 (2d10)

>>4890710
>>Ride hard, put away wet. Young Miss Reckin-Dwith sure was a comfy chair last night. With the remaining ropes this bitch didn't ruin, you could lay her out as a quartered hammock, or soggy mattress. Lounge on her and talk to her some more while you kill your Camels, squishing lit butts on her belly and limbs. Ice bucket grand finale.
>Obsequiously apologize, and offer to give her a hand with her laundry.
>>
Rolled 3, 9 = 12 (2d10)

>>4890710
>Ride hard, put away wet. Young Miss Reckin-Dwith sure was a comfy chair last night. With the remaining ropes this bitch didn't ruin, you could lay her out as a quartered hammock, or soggy mattress. Lounge on her and talk to her some more while you kill your Camels, squishing lit butts on her belly and limbs. Ice bucket grand finale.

>Sow the seeds of division. "I couldn't help but notice yesterday, you and your husband were arguing about your kid ditching school all the time. I don't wanna be the bad guy *raise palms and chuckle*, but that is a serious offense here in Velton, ma'am. Is there anything I, as an officer of the law, can do to help you?"
>>
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Men of culture, I see.

Voting remains open
>>
Rolled 796420 (1d1000000)

Lathering your left armpit with your loofah, showering off your milk and cellar germs, you reminisce on your freshest amusement. During your furniture torture session with the would-be escapee, you mine a few more details about her life and thoughts. How she wanted to be an art teacher. How she got bullied in high school and cut her wrists to cope, for like, a week. How she gets everything she wants from her daddy, like that car sitting in your driveway. Shit! The car sitting in your driveway!! How did you gloss over that? You must've been sac-swinging when you heard that line. Time to act. You towel off and dress up. It's time to:
>Ditch that car back near her college apartment!
>Drive it back to the creepy cabin you met her at and leave it there!
>Take off the plates and put it in the garage, dummy!
>Take it to a lake, put a rock on the gas pedal and say goodbye to her shitty hatchback!
>Ask Mandie B. what you should do with it!
>Write in - ???

Before you can act, Carolina sees you approaching the bright yellow abomination and waves to you from her garage. "New car, neighbor?"

You curse under your breath and compose yourself as you turn to her. Actually, this is a perfect time for deflection and enactment of your plan to rip her caveman husband away from her. You use the truant child as a means to scare her away from her mate, as well as your bloody trail and scent.

She looks visibly distraught by your words, not at you, but at the situation itself. You've seen domestic abuse cases come through the station before. She loves the kid still, but the father? Right on queue, Carolina's teen son comes home and blazes past the both of you, to no avail. If you can smell the cigarettes and alcohol on the kid, so can his mother. She just about throws her hands up and cries as she excuses herself and chases after her son, which you give an understanding nod to.

You walk 10 meters back to your driveway and finish your plan with Mandie B's car, then head upstairs and start writing in a spiralbound notebook.
>>
^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^ ^^ ^ ^ ^^ ^^^^ ^ ^^^^ ^ ^^^^ ^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^ ^ ^ ^ ^^ ^^^ ^ ^ ^
|| +4,000 points, Quadruple Crown Hole Explorer Badge
O+550 x (4) points, per liter of warm milk fed to her
|| +10 x (298) points, per whipping
|| +700 x (10) points, per hour spent on chair or hammock
|| +5 x (40) points, per cigarette put out
|| +200 x (9) points, per gallon of ice water thrown on
|| -200 points, (weak) Escape attempt due to insufficient bondage
|| +10k points, Home turf bonus
|| ¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯
O
|| 27,980 points! (as of 9.28.21)
||
|| Note: There's something... different about this one...
v vv vvv v vv vv v vvv vvv vvvv vv vv vvv vv vv v vv v vv vv v v v v

Nice, a few new achievements unlocked. You rip the page segment out and stuff it in a drawer for now. You can't wait to reorganize your trophy case. Soon, you'll take another trophy. You're scoring much better with Mandie B. than you did with Ena. You nearly scored negative with her because of all the investigations. Seeing Ena's wrinkly parents was a real boner kill. -6,900 points right there. You did score her flesh with psycho sigils and drown her in a lake, which skyrocketed you past Mandie B's current score, but all the heat on you and fussy feelings it left you with... Not to mention having to pair up with those dick stains, Jimmy and Donavan! All you were left with was a measly 2,850 points for Ena Fuvya. Your first woman, though... SHE was a real fucking doozie. You scored (QM's 1d1000000 ROLL) points on your first gal! The one that started it all. It's fun to look back, but now it's time to look forward.

Still plenty of time to rack up points with Mandie B. tonight.
>Roll 2d10!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phwew! Miss Reckin-Dwith sure knows how to tire you out. You can't imagine how tired she must have been last night. You wake up a little more accustomed to having a bang-chair in your basement, and have some time this morning to interact with it properly before your appointment with Dr. Lipschitz. You decide to:
>Turn the punishment dial back up to 10 for a few hours before therapy and work
>Feed her a proper meal
>Invent a new method of torture for her (optional write-in)
>Force her to clean the basement
>Write in - ???

A jolly good time had by all.

Now it's time for your 8AM therapy session. Dr Lipschitz seemed happy to hear from you. The drive to Millard Hills is smooth, assisted by a smooth cover of a classic.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZUimyF6NeQ

"Keep a clean nose, watch the plainclothes.
You don't need a weather man to know which way the wind blows."
>>
Anyway, you arrive at the terrace by the office and crank off the jaunty tune, breaking your trance.

You feel clammy. Somehow there are no skeeters or squawking birds in Millard Hills. No traffic. No rednecks shooting guns or blasting mainstream country music. It's calm. Disturbingly calm, because it's not your calm. Someone else's.

You walk in and feel sanitized by the fluorescent light and cleaning chemical agents in the air. You are immediately and immeasurably disappointed. Where is that hottie, Brenda Su, with the big honkers? That was half the reason you came today. Her replacement is a frumpy-but-equally-young pale-white woman that you bet Michael Cera would just love to fuck. Where are all these hipsters coming from? You feel like you could snap her twigbones in a secon-Dammit this is part of the reason you're here!

Mechanical sounds. A knob exits then re-enters it's metal housing, as its wooden doorframe opens and shuts.

"Ahh, detective, right on time. Good to see you. I'd like to introduce you to my niece and new receptionist, Genita Schwarz!"
>"Hello, Miss Schwarz. Lovely to make your acquiantance." Sneak a wink in when ol' Uncle ain't looking.
>"Nice to meet you, Genita." Later in his office, "What happened to Brenda?"
>"Oh, hi." Just get some therapy for christ's sake.
>Back out. You don't care about Genita, Brenda or Lipschitz at this point in time.
>Write in - ???

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Suspicion level: 2/10. No roll this "turn"]
>>
>>4893544
>>4893548
>>4893551
>Take it to a lake, put a rock on the gas pedal and say goodbye to her shitty hatchback!
DISPOSE OF THE EVIDENCE FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
>Invent a new method of torture for her (optional write-in)
Chinese water torture!
>"Nice to meet you, Genita." Later in his office, "What happened to Brenda?"
>>
Rolled 9, 8 = 17 (2d10)

>>4893578
Shit, forgot the 2d10.
>>
Rolled 3, 2 = 5 (2d10)

>>4893578
supporting
>>
Rolled 1, 8 = 9 (2d10)

>>4893551
>Take it to a lake, put a rock on the gas pedal and say goodbye to her shitty hatchback!
>Feed her a proper meal
>"Oh, hi." Just get some therapy for christ's sake.
The key to a proper mind breaking is alternating the torture with small acts of mercy.
>>
Rolled 8, 5 = 13 (2d10)

>>4893551
>Ask Mandie B. what you should do with it!
>Turn the punishment dial back up to 10 for a few hours before therapy and work
>"Nice to meet you, Genita." Later in his office, "What happened to Brenda?"
>>
>>4893551
>Take it to a lake, put a rock on the gas pedal and say goodbye to her shitty hatchback!
>Feed her a proper meal
>"Nice to meet you, Genita." Later in his office, "What happened to Brenda?"
>>
Rolled 10, 6 = 16 (2d10)

>>4894548
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

Coin flip says:

Votes locked:
>Car goes in lake
>If I roll a 1, Chinese Water Torture.
>If I roll a 2, Feed Mandie B. a proper breakfast
>"What happened to Brenda?
>2 player rolls: both decent/good, one for spending time with Mandie, one for ditching her car.
>>
>Roll 3d10!

Leaving Carolina "Smith" in shambles in her driveway, you pivot and enter Mandie B's obstentatious vehicle and drive it straight to the same lake where you picked up your human furniture. It's completely empty as usual. The water is dark grey-blue-green. The mosquitoes are biting like crazy. They're not the only species of bloodsucker with a bursting, overflowing proboscis in this neck of the woods, however.

The coed's car was a mess of V-Burger wrappers, dozens of makeup canisters, empty cat food containers (was she eating these herself???), college books and paperwork, bundles of stray hairs, energy drink cans... And a special something that really caught your eye. This belongs on display in your trophy case, when you fix it back up. You grab it and put it in your jeans' pocket.
>A sapphire necklace.
>Her car registration.
>Her hairbrush, still full of hair.
>Dirty, soiled panties.
>A photo of her and two cats.
>Write in - ???

Not many large rocks around the lake, but there is some heavy wood detritus you snugly wedge on the pedal while the car is in neutral. Then you let 'er rip. Already angled toward the deepest part of the lake, the car sinks to the bottom and makes a satisfying, mechanical, gurgling noise until there is no noise at all. You close your eyes and breathe. Ad smile.

Mandie B. also had a longboard-style skateboard in her trunk you happened to grab. It beats walking home, you suppose. You beat your feet all the way back to your home. You do know how to operate a skateboard, right?
(One roll goes towards this!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You come home and decide not to tell Mandie about the car. You just score a few thousand more points with the same old same old. When you tally up your ice bucket and furniture points, you decide maybe you should change up your routine. You throw a plate of eggs and sausage links on the ground, which shatters at Mandie B's feet. She begins to cry, but her stomach is louder than her tears. She does look pleasingly thinner than when she came in.

She cries more and more, for no apparent reason, even though you were just googling stuff on your phone, chugging warm milk and leaving her alone. Then you understand why. She shits right in front of you, the shameless whore. It runs down her leg and you realize you'll be the one who has to clean it up, since her arms and wrists are practically spaghetti now. Fuck.
>>
You break out a blue tarp and lie it on the floor with the edges upturned, so as to catch and contain the incoming water. You walk to your backyard and pipe your garden hose through the cellar window, and turn the pressure on. Once you get down there, you use a gentle stream to wash off your woman. You're so irked, you hogtie her, leave her in the filthy tarp for a few hours and suspend the hose above her head with a slow drip coming from the hose-head.

You check in on her two hours later before bed and she is panicking and screaming behind her ball gag so much, you decide to turn the water off for the night and re-seal the cellar window. Another night of lovely, restful sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You don't have a ton of time in the morning to play with Mandie B., you decide it's time to see Lipschitz again. Once you got there and saw there was no busty asian temptress at the front desk, that became your secret topic of focus during the whole session. Not what you intended, but this honestly feels better than having to tell Lipschitz about the problems in your life.

The daydreams were glorious. You were smearing mayo all over those juicy yellow-brown hot dog buns... Doc mentioned she got a job closer to her Nana, so she could take care of her in case of an emergency. Some smoothie shop in Pell Springs.

You head in to work and push your paperwork in for the final bit of the Ena Fuvya case, confident you've been absolved and ignored in the eyes of those seeking justice. You decide to check out the address of that smoothie shop in Pell Springs. Maybe you'll pay Brenda Su a visit and buy a smoothie while you're on your hazing job later?
>Yes, she'll make an excellent replacement for when Mandie is dead and gone.
>Yes, she'll make an excellent addition to Mandie B. in your basement.
>Yes, she'll make an excellent second subject, kept separate from Mandie B.
>No, you're committed to Mandie B. and Mandie B. only now.
>No, you want another woman in addition to Mandie B., but not Brenda Su. (Whom?)
>No, you want another woman after you kill Mandie B., but not Brenda Su. (Whom?)
>Write in - ???

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back at Hilda's Bed and Breakfast on a less-than-busy Tuesday afternoon, you and Jimmy have a plan to sting Don Black, and see just what he's up to, and what he's been hiding. You instructed Jimmy to tell Don he would have his $2500 in an envelope, and would pass it to him over ham and eggs. When Don sees there is no money in the envelope...
>>
Well. Time will tell, won't it?

You will be Jim's yojimbo, with the brilliant plan to:
>(Risk: Low, Reward: Low) Watch from a distance and learn what you can that way, and ask Jimmy about what happened later.
>(Risk: Mid, Reward: Mid) Have Jimmy wear a wire and hidden earpiece. You can listen to Don and Jimmy's surroundings verbatim, and pipe Jimmy lines to say if he goes off script.
>(Risk: High, Reward: High) Sneak up to their table and confront Don yourself, when an opportune time presents itself.
>(Risk: ???, Reward: ???) Write in - ???
(One roll goes towards this!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hazing among Pell University's water polo team how riveting. Snooze. At least the radio is there to pick you up, with your "favorite" D.J., Boogie Jay Skeeter. He's playing some music you don't really care for one way or the other, but it helps clear your mind. And the artist's name makes you laugh and think of Mandie B.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uKUYSl8c-90

Your Lincoln sputters to a halt outside of P.U., along with your car stereo. It's a short, sunny walk.

In the office, you are immediately greeted by the campus security head, Officer Walters. "Greetings, detective. Thanks for coming on time. Grim news. Little Noah Timberlane, the water polo jockey, was found face down in the pool this morning, body swollen like the Goodyear blimp. Obvious signs of foul play. Your hazing case just became a murder investigation. Sorry to inform you." You clear this with Commissioner Seth over a 2 minute phone call, and you're on the manhunt.

You survey and petition the campus until nightfall. The source of this dastardly hazing, according to a few of those supposedly in the know, and the only who would talk that knew anything, is none other than a familiar face from your high school:
>Lon Lemmings, the quiet, nerdy one, who barely made the team. How... Atypical!!
>Chad Cunderthock, the team captain and chick magnet. How... Typical!!
>Drew Duff, the artistic wiseguy on the team who drew the logo for the Pell Punishers, which is used by all of the school's teams now.
>Write in - ???

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Suspicion roll: 2.5
(One roll goes towards this!)
>>
Rolled 6, 4, 7 = 17 (3d10)

>>4895122
>Dirty, soiled panties.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZOFx3qFV8Is
>Yes, she'll make an excellent replacement for when Mandie is dead and gone.
No need to get too greedy with our harvests. One at a time. Don't want to get too much heat.
>(Risk: Mid, Reward: Mid) Have Jimmy wear a wire and hidden earpiece. You can listen to Don and Jimmy's surroundings verbatim, and pipe Jimmy lines to say if he goes off script.
>Drew Duff, the artistic wiseguy on the team who drew the logo for the Pell Punishers, which is used by all of the school's teams now.
>>
Rolled 5, 8, 4 = 17 (3d10)

>>4895118
>Write in - ???
Her diary

>>4895119
>No, you're committed to Mandie B. and Mandie B. only now.
Committing to our next victim when we haven't even expended the first one? That's just amateur

>>4895122
>(Risk: Mid, Reward: Mid) Have Jimmy wear a wire and hidden earpiece. You can listen to Don and Jimmy's surroundings verbatim, and pipe Jimmy lines to say if he goes off script.
This plan is too stupid/funny to not give a try

>Lon Lemmings, the quiet, nerdy one, who barely made the team. How... Atypical!!
>>
Rolled 5, 6, 9 = 20 (3d10)

>>4895122
>Write in - ???
Her diary
>No, you're committed to Mandie B. and Mandie B. only now.
One at the time boys, one at the time. The MILF is better anyways.
>(Risk: Mid, Reward: Mid) Have Jimmy wear a wire and hidden earpiece. You can listen to Don and Jimmy's surroundings verbatim, and pipe Jimmy lines to say if he goes off script.
>Lon Lemmings, the quiet, nerdy one, who barely made the team. How... Atypical!!
>>
>>4895122
>A sapphire necklace.
>No, you want another woman after you kill Mandie B., but not Brenda Su. (Whom?)
>(Risk: Low, Reward: Low) Watch from a distance and learn what you can that way, and ask Jimmy about what happened later.
>Chad Cunderthock, the team captain and chick magnet. How... Typical!!
>>
Rolled 4, 6, 8 = 18 (3d10)

>>4896719
>>
Rolled 9, 3, 8 = 20 (3d10)

>>4895815
support
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

Voting locked!!

I know this >>4896763 was a semantic error, and have only included your first set of rolls. Let's friggin' gooo!!!!!

Skateboarding roll: <5
(ouch!)
Spy roll: bretty gud :DD
Clear airwaves and a clear conscience.
Suspicion roll: passed with flying colors!
Yippee! Nyeh heh heh heh. Woo!

>Trophy: Diary (nice touch!)(if QM roll is 1) or sapphire necklace (if 2)
I have plans for either of these. Nasty plans... Ghastly plans, too... Insane plans, even...
>Woman choice: Stick with Mandie B., for now.
You didn't even meet Brenda Su through Craigslist, it would be cheating! You're supposed to be a Craigslist killer! (jk) Besides, Mandie got that thang. That dumper. That rump. You've already wiped her bottom, there's no going back...
>Spying: Spy gear, duh.
We high-tech now.
>Hazing culprit/wrongful death suspect
No!!! Not Lon Lemmings! He was one of the few students at Velton High that didn't abuse or ignore you. He got bullied and written off just as much as - or more than - you. He wasn't exactly a friend, but the mutual respect (and commiseration) was palpable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You feel queasy. Head spinning. It's 9PM and the crickets are singing tunes on top of the swampy, noisy, river waters. Then your Lincoln's V8 engine roar joins the chorus. Time to blow this popsicle stand known as Pell University, head home and mull everything over...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New updates to the quest:
>Switching from 1d10 to 1d20 for more pronounced results (shoulda done this earlier, desu)
>:-)
>Listen to this song if you're bored. This one's dedicated to all you down on your luck at the moment. Boogie Jay Skeeter, signing out. Rock on, ghouls and boys.
youtube.com/watch?v=DIcSF3Ru8iA
I know the music is hit and miss... Or is it all miss? Maybe all hits...? Anyone "enjoying" the songs, in any capacity? Or experiencing utter, festering, bubbling hatred? Thanks in advance for any feedback.

.
.
.

...Now that's a HOT tamale! Next scandal coming in ~12hrs!
>>
>>4896763
>>4897247
(there was an older, identical post with roll numbers similar to 1,~5, ~8; which was either deleted by the anon, or some kind of spam filter I'm unaware of, either way, the post stands! Getting a late night of sleep, so I will try my best to still update within the aforementioned time. If not, add 24 hours to that number, sowwy.)
>>
>>4897247
As a radiohead myself (pun intended) I like the addition of Boogie Skeeter and wish I personally had more opportunities to insert radio stuff in the quest currently I run.
If you want to ease your conscious, give Boogie a break once in a while and have the Craigslist Killer tune into a different frequency by players' vote
>>
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sl7x4S_fLXU

"workin' overtime" and sleeping overtime

Update is half-written, will be coming tomorrow.

Hope everyone will be having a jolly 4th of July weekend!


>>4898701
Cool! and I like your idea, I'll probably sneak it in.
>>
>>4899471
updoot?
>>
>>4904567
Yeah. Life raped me, and I'm seeing much less worth in doing quests (timewise), not that my writing would be worth much elsewhere. I still have a strong desire to do this, though. I thought I'd have an update a few days ago. Little drunk right now. I really wish I had a thought-to-text generator. This quest would be going like a breeze, then.

I've had the next update written in my head, but to write it out the way I want it (autistically) would take 90-120 minutes. I haven't really had time between my recent family functions, new role at work, and general anxieties about life. I hope to update tomorrow before work. If I don't, it could be grim. I've pondered the past few days if I should put up a warning or ending of the thread, but I want this quest to keep going, I don't want to be a flake. I just wish I had more time alone or outside of work to do this.

I'm looking for new financial opportunities, but right now, I'm in the 40+ hrs/wk club. Currently, updates will be severely slowed to 2-3 times a week, or this quest (and my other planned quests) might go belly up. Hate to say it, foreshadow it, hint it, tease it, etc., but it's the truth. I'll do my best right now, but I may need an indefinite hiatus.
>>
>>4904688
That's rough. From my experience the best way to update is to do it very drunk in one giant go at it. If being a little drunk (which I presume means a BAC of .99~~ given the holiday) doesn't help get the update out then that's grim

Btw cancelling isn't necessarily flaking. Flaking is saying you're going out for cigarettes and disappearing
>>
>>4904707
I'm just gonna go out to buy a pack of Marlboro's and some Enfamil real quick
>>
>>4904711
>Enfamil
Not the generic stuff? Damn, you really must've fallen for the PROMOTION meme to have the cash for that.
>>
Similar to Mandie B. Reckin-Dwith, life has been raping me and keeping me tied in its basement for the last week.

I should be able to return to writing tonight or tomorrow. I know I've said that like 3 times already, sorry. Let's cross our fingers and hope it's really true this time. I just wanted to write ;-;
>>
>>4906425
Stay away from warm milk!
>>
Sorry for dragging my feet on this. I've got to officially put questing to the side until I can throw my weight and my time behind it. Keep your eyeballs peeled for part 3, just don't hold your breath, my darlings.
>>
>>4912987
If you don't finish your quests Fae Smelter, I will track you down, post a Craigslist ad giving away moderately obscure music cds as bait, commit kidnapping, and force-feed you warm milk until you explode.
>>
>>4912987
Make that the two of us if you don't come back Fae.
>>
>>4912994
>>4914302
Sounds cozy
I'll be back, Arnold style
>>
>>4914551
Forgot name
>>
>>4914551
I'm marking you QM



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