Sanity Framework

[Sthan Dust]

// Mother.Execute()
// Loading ...
// ...
// ...
// Mother loaded...

>> Good evening, Alexander.

 

?> Good evening, Mother.  Have we isolated the signature for MODUS?

>> Negative. He is hiding.  We did find a possible signature in Nuka World. However, we are now concerned with the temporal aspect of this endeavor.

?> Explain.

>> The continuum has been corrupted.  Your journal is now in a different spot than designed.

 

?> Explain, Mother.

 

>> The journal is now elsewhere.

?> What does that mean?

>> Others have control of that information now.  We have no control.

?> Fuck.  Mother, can we erase the holotape?

>> Negative, Alexander.  It is now in the hands of negative actors.

?> What does that mean, Mother?  Stop with the rubbish, we need to control this situation...
 

>> It's not my fault, Alexander.  You knew this was a risk from the beginning.

?>  Raiders?

>> Yes. Of course. While generally asinine in their intentions, they have one who has overcome this.

 

?> ...  ...  Is it us?

>> Yes, it is the other.  Sthan has arrested control...

?> FFS how did you...  Never mind.  Has she not realized her role?

 

>> She would ask the same of you.  It is a conundrum.

?> Where?

>> You know where, Alexander.  Your weakness is the key.

 

?> I wrote you, yeah?

>> You wrote me to be impartial.  Follow your instincts, Alexander.  I cannot continue this conversation.

 

?> What do you mean?

>> Your specifically instructed me not to tell you things of this nature.  Follow your addiction.

 

?> ...  Very well.

>> Good night, Alexander.

 

?> Good night, Mother

 

// Mother.Unload()

// Mother Unloaded...

// End Program

[Sthan Dust]

 

[Sthan Dust]

Good night my friends.  I was coding, but I must work in the AM.  So I leave you with this.

 

Its a clue.

 

Because, Why?

 

 

[bedellia]

8 hours ago, Sthan Dust said:

 

Bedellia, I'm thinking I need to add you to the credits for your work   Votre langue maternelle est-elle Français?

 

p.s. I don't speak French, but Gabryal does. Its his favourite language.  I don't know why since he's Sumerian.  He's strange like that.

 

 

Thank you, it's my pleasure !

 

Yes French is my mother tongue If you need help for Gabryal, let me know. I don't have much time at home between family and work but I'll try to do my best.?

[Sthan Dust]

Sorry my loves.  It was a crazy few days at my real life job.  

On 3/7/2022 at 7:11 AM, bedellia said:

Thank you, it's my pleasure !

 

Yes French is my mother tongue If you need help for Gabryal, let me know. I don't have much time at home between family and work but I'll try to do my best.?

❤️❤️❤️ Gabryal loves french.  So I shall send you my translation first.

[Sthan Dust]

Good evening, my loves.

 

I apologise for my absence.  my actual job (Meh) has been fairly demanding the last two weeks.  However, I have had time to work on some new surprises for you. 

 

Again, I am so sorry, but I must pay the bills yes?  I will have a better timeline tomorrow.  

I apologise.  I know you all are engaged.  I love this story.  I love what we are building together.  I started the idea, but you are helping making it real.


<3<3

 

[ebbluminous]

3 hours ago, Sthan Dust said:

Good evening, my loves.

 

I apologise for my absence.  my actual job (Meh) has been fairly demanding the last two weeks.  However, I have had time to work on some new surprises for you. 

 

Again, I am so sorry, but I must pay the bills yes?  I will have a better timeline tomorrow.  

I apologise.  I know you all are engaged.  I love this story.  I love what we are building together.  I started the idea, but you are helping making it real.


<3<3

 

Never apologise for having to pay the bills!

[bedellia]

6 hours ago, Sthan Dust said:

Sorry my loves.  It was a crazy few days at my real life job.  

❤️❤️❤️ Gabryal loves french.  So I shall send you my translation first.

Yes no problem.

 

Just like that, I've seen you can in sex attributes make all aaf scene considered as non-consensual. But it seems it's not considered in SD_framework, it may be usefull to avoid making integration for all mods. 

 

By exemple in my playthrough, my character ( a tough woman War veteran ) looks for her baby until she's abducted. Then to get rid of a shock collar she has to sell her body. To manage to endure this, she falls in drugs and alcohol addiction. To buy her drugs and equipment to find her son and avoid being raped by guards, she becomes a porn actress in Nuka World until her mind blows up because of all abuses and decide to take revenge, become the new overboss and with her new love Gage make this world burning. 

All that to say that it would be great that it had an impact.

 

Again this is just a suggestion ?

 

PS : We all have a life no need to apologise ?

Edited March 10, 2022 by bedellia

[ebbluminous]

ould be interesting to integrate with this new mod?

 

https://www.nexusmods.com/fallout4/mods/52522

[Sthan Dust]

On 3/11/2022 at 2:36 PM, ebbluminous said:

ould be interesting to integrate with this new mod?

 

https://www.nexusmods.com/fallout4/mods/52522

I spoke with this Mod author a while back.  He wasn't willing to really go further due to the ties with Lover's Lab.  But I've accounted for these particular issues separately

 

❤️ Not everyone accepts LL as a natural progression to the world of Fallout

 

[Sthan Dust]

Good evening, Luvs,

 

Thankfully, my big project is over now.  I can now get back to full blown development.  

 

I have big things planned for the next release, but I'm a bit of a perfectionist.  I tested my mod all weekend, along with @Invictusblade wonderful mods.
If you play Family Planning Redux, or Wasteland Dairy, I will be integrating those mods this week.  I apologize for my absence.  But as I mentioned before, I will not abandon this mod.  

 

As a token of my appreciation for you continued support, I offer you this:

 

What Rough Beast

 

Her light was so brilliant it burnt my guilty shadow onto the floor, but I was not blinded.  So many nights I have watched her, seeing her in ways no other had seen her, clad diaphanously against the pale, bluish glow of the full moon, a chill perking her skin.  I should not have taken her in, I know that now.  She was different, but I did not realize exactly how different she was.  I was unwilling to admit the hunger she stirred inside me, her flesh calling to me since the first time we met.  I should have known better, but we all make mistakes.

 

There is a darkened corridor, forgotten by the sun, shrouded in shadow and transgression.  Others were there, but uninterested, absorbed in their dismal deeds, ferreting in an out of decrepit rooms with the glistening of glass and metal and the scent of despair in their wakes.  We skulked silently into a room at the far end of the hall, the hardwood warped and eaten by pests and the past.  Willingly she followed me as I urged her to shed her fears and apprehension, succumbing to my will.  It is difficult to impress these things on those who are unenlightened, unawakened to the true nature of our existence.  But the emptiness within her called to me, beckoning me to fill it with whatever I desired.  Innocence filled her bosom, marred by the dark desires she’d only read about but yearned to explore.  The first time was not nearly enough, at least for me.  The smell of her hair stained my fingers as I gripped the back of her head, holding her still as my hands meandered wantonly from the warmth between her legs to the firmness of her chest.  I whispered in her ear, reassuring her, purring lies.  She wanted me to take her, use her, but refused to accept her own desire, fearful of losing herself. 

 

In that decayed room, I pressed her face against the wall, holding her still as I lifted her skirt, revealing her panty clad bottom, thrust out towards me -- wanting, willing, and waiting.  The miserable sounds of the abandoned structure faded into the void, leaving me alone with my willing prey.  The sound of the fabric echoed as I tore the panties from her, discarding the moist fabric to the rotted wood floor.  “Shhh,” I whispered against her ear as she whimpered.  “That’s a good girl.” 

 

She sighed against the faded velvet wallpaper, and nodded her head slightly against the force of my grip.  I pulled back her hair, revealing that slender, perfect neck and she shivered as I ran my lips over the skin delicately before biting down, my teeth straddling a taut tendon.  I shivered too, wanting to bite harder, but resisting my urges. It was too soon. 

 

I indulged myself with her, filling her, holding her steady against the wall as I used her.  Her whimpers and moans only increasing my excitement, pushing me to the edge of desire, almost causing me to lose control, but I had learnt from my past mistakes, she was not to be discarded.

 

At the end, when the beast was sated, I released her but instructed her to look away as she cleaned herself.  I picked up the discarded undergarments and tucked them neatly into my suit pocket and adjusted my tie.

 

“Never look into my eyes,” I said to her.  “You’ll be lost forever.”

 

She nodded timidly, straightening her skirt and hair.

 

“When I call, you will come to me,” I said flatly, stoically.  “I won’t accept no.  Do you understand?”

 

She nodded silently in the darkness, then managed a timorous, “Yes, Sir.”

 

“Good,” I responded.  “Now leave me.”

 

As she scurried from the room, I took a seat on a rotted chair in the corner, alone in shadow and thought.  She was exactly what I had been searching for, and I was scarcely able to accept it after so many fruitless years, and countless other disappointments.  She was different; I could smell it on her like perfume -- fear, desire and sin overpowering her female scents. 

 

I lit a cigarette, the flame igniting the room with dancing tendrils of shadow, before fading into a dull, cherry glow.  We were both sated, both the beast and me.  And as he drew deeply on the cigarette, I considered the next encounter.  She would do as I say, with no argument, of this, I was certain.  She had responded to each thrust eagerly and openly, pulling me in, wanting more, surrendering to my will. 

 

“What are we going to do with her,” his voice, not mine, whispered from the dark.  I did not readily respond.  He would not be allowed to make decisions, as he had in the past.  He tended to be overzealous, but I held his leash firm.

 

“We will take her into our home, of course,” I said finally and snuffed the cigarette out under my shoe as I looked in the direction of the disembodied voice.  “She will complete the collection.”

 

He chuckled derisively at me, as he often did, annoyed by my calm, and collected manner.  He had fought against me the entire time as I used her, wanting to rip every shred of clothing from her body, leaving her naked and trembling in that putrid room -- the scent of piss and doubt and despair.  It was never enough for him. He would have used her and left her bruised and bloodied on that worm-eaten floor, barely alive.  But I was not going to allow that to happen.  Her light burned him, and I heard him howl in my mind with each caress of her blessed skin.  I was in control, and I knew that there was a way for us to both to be sated, for years to come.

 

As I left the building, I felt invigorated, stepping into the oppressive light of that weary November day.  A spring returned to my step as I uncharacteristically started to whistle, weaving in and out of the somnambulant masses.  He goaded them from the depths of my subconscious, berating every single person we saw, but I was unaffected.  He would not ruin my mood. 

 

I could still smell her, licking my lips deliciously as I entered the foyer of my private abode.  Yes, I had assured myself that she was what we sought.  I could still hear the beating of her heart, racing as we engaged in our depraved dance.  She was close to me, and I would always know where she was, but I would be careful not to rush the process, a mistake I had made before.  She would submit at all levels, levels at which most are not able to submit.  She would shed all the things she had wanted and known before and accept something new and something incredibly old.

 

***

 

In the weeks that followed that first encounter, I made my preparations.  I deliberately did not contact her for three days, allowing her to replay the experience in her mind, awakening flustered in the middle of the night in the throes of an unexpectedly erotic dream as I whispered in her mind, reassuring her.  But these sorts of preparations were not to be taken lightly.  A thrall, like a pet, was an enormous amount of work.  She would never make another decision for herself again, and would exist unobtrusively in my life, a slave to my sin-filled soul.

 

Very few people were allowed to enter my home, and only with explicit purpose.  The rest of the world could not fathom the Beast.  We would survive through my will, as one survives by being calculated and not by being impetuous.  Foolishness, though quaint in certain circumstances, is a sure path to extinction.  Only the cautious survive.  And though my little pet was foolish, I would save her from the rest of the world, where beasts more deceitful than mine would certainly devour her.  I am the keeper of the beast, though all men harbor a beast in the depths of their heart -- callous, calamitous creatures -- driven by deviant demands and derisive diligence. 

 

It was a cold evening when she arrived near midnight, the moon hung lazily over the city, illuminating the glaze of ice which blanketed the streets and sidewalks.  She was dressed in a black dress, falling torridly just above the knee, swaying against her thighs as she entered the parlor. 

 

We sat opposite one another, her in the leather wing back chair, and I on the settee.  I offered her a cognac to dispel the chill, but more importantly, to sedate her inhibitions.  Fear was ever present and always threatening to interrupt the best laid plans.  She gazed downward into the amber liquid, while we spoke of casual, innocuous things.  The night ticked away on the grandfather clock, drowned out by the constant complaints of my shadow.  The beast was always impatient, which is why it needed me, for it would devour the world and leave nothing in its wake.  I provided temperance where there was only a void, and though it believed it was in control, it was not.

 

She regaled me with tales of the past few weeks, careful not to speak of our previous encounter, but I knew it hung just behind her pretty red lips, which glistened with the liquid courage I had given her.  I caught her looking at me once, while I checked the pocket watch in my vest, but she quickly averted her gaze with a feigned, feeble cough.  It was time.

 

“Upstairs,” I said in a casual manner.  “There is a room immediately to the right as you approach the top.”

 

“Yes, Sir?” anxiously she inquired, sitting forward in her chair, and setting the empty glass aside.

 

“There is a thin white gown laid out for you,” I continued after emptying my own glass.  “I will be along directly.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” she responded again and without another word she vanished from the parlour, the sound of her heels staccato on the hardwood floor as she ascended the stairs.

 

“That was too easy,” he said from across the room, leaned back with his feet on the ottoman.  “Are you sure she’ll be worth all this ‘planning’?”

 

I dismissed him, as I often do.  I had to keep my mind focused on the task at hand.  The transition would be difficult for her.  I did not want to risk her fleeing -- that would have been disastrous.  This night would decide whether she would remain or be discarded.  I, despite my own concerns, was hopeful that she would submit, willingly and fully, but I was careful not to allow that to cloud my judgment.

 

After giving her ample amount of time to prepare and reflect, I mounted the stairs, walking in time with her beating heart, which resounded in my ears deafeningly.  She was terrified and enflamed with desire simultaneously.  This pleased me, pleased him. 

 

As I opened the door, she stretched languorously on the bed, her arms over her head, with her wrist in one hand as if hanging from a rope.  She was naked underneath the transparent gown of sheer, white fabric, her body responding to the chill in the air from the window I had left open.  The heavy fabric of the drapes muffled the din of the city, and her trembling breaths and thumping heart further diminished it.

 

“Good girl,” I said as I inspected her.  She was more beautiful than I had imagined from our previous encounter.  This was the first time I was able to see the entirety of her body.

 

 “Thank you, Sir,” she said in the same trembling voice as before.  Fear was hanging over her oppressively, but she kept it hidden by the desire which emanated from every aspect of her being. 

 

“Mmm,” he purred behind me.  “I may have been wrong about you.  She looks good enough to eat.”  I ignored him again as I approached her. 

 

Her body was tremulous with the cold and her longing.  He could smell the subtle hint of her need, causing him to growl impatiently as I considered her form.  

 

“I want you to keep your eyes closed until I am finished.”  I said, taking one of her wrists and binding it with the shackles affixed to the post of the large bed. 

 

"You must trust me.  Is that understood?”

 

“Yes, Sir,” she responded in a small, girlish voice.

 

I could hardly contain myself -- contain him -- as I bound her to the bed.  I left enough slack in the chains to allow movement, but there was no escaping.  She was completely under my control. 

 

“No more speaking, now,” I whispered against her ear, taking in a deep breath of her aroma as she nodded feebly.  I could see the veins in her face and neck throbbing, her body responding to the situation in obvious ways – she was ready.  I kissed her neck lightly, watching her body react as she tried to suppress whimpers of pleasure.  My hand moved over the fabric of her gown and down between her legs, fingers dipped in her wanton moisture.  As I caressed her treasure torturously, she lifted her hips into my grasp.  I then bit her neck, lightly at first, to gauge her reaction, then harder.  She gasped both in pain and ecstasy as I did, urging me to continue, unknowing what was to come next. 

 

I lifted my hand to her throat, my grasp firm as I thrust her head to the side and bit down hard on the skin, piercing it and allowing a small amount of blood to flow, careful not to damage any of her arteries.  Unlike the clumsy portrayals of blood-drinking cliché specters of classic and modern horror, the blood for us is merely a part of the ritual, and not a source of sustenance.  The hunger I seek to sate is inexplicable, and terrible, yet safely imprisoned within.  We are not ‘undead’, one is either alive or not.  We are alive and she is alive, and her life trickled sweetly into my waiting mouth.  We suckled it hungrily, knowing her, feeling her, filling myself with each drop, as if an infant from its mother.

 

“That is rather tasty,” he murmured as he was filled too.  “Something very familiar.”  I sensed the familiarity too, like the memory of candy apples at an autumn festival.

 

She moaned as she exploded with release from this simple, yet poignant action.  I had violated her in a way she’d never known before and would never know again.  And when the throes of her orgasm subsided, I released my grip and stood to undress.  My intrusion into her soul had only just begun.  When the night was complete, she would be unable to remove us from her mind.

 

I watched her as I disrobed, it was clear she’d never had such a release before.  She was drunk with rapture, her eyes fluttering beneath her eyelids as if lost in a pleasant dream.  I could tell she wanted to open her eyes, but she did not.  Before her pleasure had subsided, I reached down and quickly tore the thin fabric from her body, leaving red marks on her hips and shoulders.  Again, she shuddered, whimpering with pleasure, her naked body pimpled with fine hairs standing on end.  I shredded the gown and tied a piece over her eyes as a blind fold and kept another piece on the bedside table in case a gag was in order.
 

She spread her legs without hesitation as my hand rested lightly on her thigh.

 

“No,” I whispered.  “Roll on your stomach.”

 

She nodded dutifully, rolling over, the chains crisscrossing, yet slack enough for her to do so.  Her bare, white bottom was slightly lifted with that same desire she exhibited in the abandoned building, and I slapped it with such force it echoed through the room, followed by a moan, not a scream.  My hand left a blood red print on her alabaster skin, raised and vicious, but she did not lower her hips.

 

I hit her again in the same spot, with more force.  She yelped into the pillow, and defiantly raised her hips more. 

 

Twice more on a different spot, and still she raised her hips.  She was learning very quickly, much more quickly than the others before her.  And one final time I hit her, and she had raised herself fully on her knees, swaying her hips back and forth hypnotically, beckoning me.

 

“Oh, come on,” he barked from the chair across the room, impatient.  “Let’s get started already.”

 

I ignored his urging; I was in charge, and he was not.  I mounted her from behind, like an animal, grabbing a full hand of hair and jerked her head up, forcing her to get up on her hands and knees.  She panted like a dog as I drove myself deep within, over and over, straining against my grasp as I pulled her hair tighter.  She moved in time with me, thrusting her own hips back which I greeted with another resounding slap, harder than the previous ones.  Her bottom was completely red and beginning to bruise, yet still she persisted.  I was misled by her naiveté; something had been asleep within her, something I awoke.  She would be much more difficult to break, like a wild horse, completely unlike the others who had willing submitted to my will with little resistance question. 

I tightened my grip in her hair and lifted her upright, and pinched and pulled at her nipple mercilessly and she responded with a renewed sense of urgency, grinding into each and every thrust.  And just as I thrust her face into the pillow to suffocate her, she climaxed once more and growled like an animal. 

Frustrated, I flipped her over roughly onto her back and covered her with my seed, the droplets glistening on her heaving chest.  I wiped my hands in her hair and climbed off the bed.  She lolled her head back and forth drunkenly as I took the swath of fabric from the bedside table and tied it tightly around her mouth.

 

He chuckled from the chair, “That was an impressive display.”  I glanced over at him scornfully, careful not to say anything aloud.  “I think you may have met your match,” he chided.

 

I gathered my discarded garments and tossed them into the hallway before turning back to her and slapped her once across the face.  “You will learn,” I said succinctly.  “It doesn’t matter what you want or if you enjoy it.  My will is all that matters.”  With that, I strode from the room, slamming the door, leaving her to her thoughts and pain.

 

“What are you going to do now?” he asked as I walked down the stairs to the study, taking a seat before the fireplace. 

 

“She’ll submit,” I said unaffected, the rage in my chest quickly subsiding.  “They always do.”

 

“Not always,” he said reminding me.  “Surely you remember Charlotte?”

 

Charlotte was my one failure, but she was an extreme case.  This one would not be as much of a problem as she had been.

 

“Charlotte was beyond my help,” I responded emotionlessly.  “This one is merely inexperienced.  An untrained pet.  But, I knew that when I approached her.  But she is willing, and that is all that matters.”

 

“Oh,” he laughed.  “She’s willing alright.”

 

I ignored him once more and poured myself a cognac and before ringing a small bell next to my chair.  Within a few moments, my four other pets came up from the basement and knelt dutifully in front of me, eyes down cast.  They each were naked, except for their collar around their neck, with a silver ID tag dangling from the clasp, each numbered one through four.  Soon I would have five, if all went well.

 

“One,” I barked at the blonde blonde-haired my left.  She dutifully perked up to let me know she heard me.  “Go and lie outside the door at the top of the stairs and alert me if there is any issue.”

 

She nodded and stood, “Yes, Sir,” and quickly vanished from the room.  Number One had been with me the longest, but she was too eager to please me.  There was very little resistance in her at the beginning, and all of that was completely gone now.  She oversaw keeping the others busy when I was not around, and she excelled at that.  I had owned her so long I had forgotten her real name, but that did not matter anymore.

 

“When are we going out?”  He asked impatiently from his usual seat, watching the others and me.

 

“Soon,” I said.  “Now, Two and Four, go and fetch me a suit and new under garments.” Two was a red-head and four had raven-black hair.  They both nodded and said, “Yes, Sir” in perfect unison before leaving the room. 

 

I finished my cognac and stood.  Three was albino, and a truly extraordinary find.  “Three, I require cleaning.”  And while I stood naked in the middle of the study, three began to use her tongue to clean the remains of the encounter from my body, a skill that required an enormous amount of training.  Three was exceedingly well versed in using her tongue.

 

“What are we after tonight?”  He asked anxiously.  “Murderer? Thief?”

 

I shook my head, looking over at him, my arms over my head to allow Three unhindered access to my body.  “No,” I responded.  “Tonight, I am interested in visiting the politician.”  My pets had become accustomed to my beast and our seemingly one-sided conversations, it was a factor of the conditioning.  And while to a normal person it might appear quite insane, they recognized that I was very different than any lesser men they may have encountered in their pathetic former existences.

 

“Ohhhh!”  He responded in a giddy manner.  “I love politicians.  They taste like pork!”

 

I nodded, “I thought you would approve.  And tonight is the most opportune night for a visit.”

 

I saw him roll his eyes, “You and your damn planning!  We don’t need to be so careful; it’s not as if we will get caught.”

 

“I am not concerned with being caught,” I responded patiently.  “One should realize that the low hanging fruit may not be as delicious as those high in the tree.  And we do not need a panic to erupt, it would hinder our work.”

 

It was his turn to indulge, as was the arrangement, however, I always chose whom we would visit.  I spent the majority of my waking days seeking the vilest of sinners.  The viler they were, the more sated he would be and leave me to my pets.

 

That night, I had decided that a certain congressman was our target, one Richard Stern.  One rule I’ve always lived by is that there is no room in society for a rabid dog and Mr. Stern was exactly that.  It is different to take advantage of those who want to be taken advantage of.  My pets are willing, tired of living unfulfilled existences, looking for direction, care, and some semblance of compassion.  Mr. Stern had taken advantage of many, and though he had been implicated in several instances of impropriety with a minor, his position and influence in the government had left him unscathed.  But we both knew he was guilty.  Guilt is like gum on the bottom of your shoe, anyone paying attention can see the thin, sticky strands as the foot pulls away from the pavement.  In Mr. Stern’s case, his whole foot was covered and while sating the beast’s hunger, we would visit expiation upon him.

 

After I had been cleaned and dressed, we left to complete our work for the evening.  We slipped through the night, unnoticed as always, to his home in the West End of the city, to an affluent, gated community reserved for those who steeped themselves in opulence.  It sickened me that someone of his stature could be capable of such horrible acts and living a lavish life in a million dollar mansion.  But, his sin exceeded the normal boundaries of greed.  All the money in the world, all the things he had, and yet he could not stop abusing those less fortunate.  He robbed countless victims of their safety, self-esteem and sanity.  We would punish him and force him to make attrition for his deviant behavior.

 

We arrived at the Stern residence at 3:00 a.m., and after only a few moments, we picked the lock, deactivated his alarm, and entered his house.  He was divorced, which made things easy, almost too easy. 

 

We entered his enormous master bedroom, where the full moon shone through the window, casting an eerie glow on his pallid skin, making him almost appear like a corpse.  He was in his late 50s, and decidedly overweight, and certainly no match for us.  We watched him sleep for a few minutes; a sinister smile curled his cracked, bloated lips.  Before he could awaken and come to his senses, we hand-cuffed him to his bed.  His eyes shot open, and he began to yell, but we quickly shoved a rag in his mouth, silencing him as he gagged on the filthy cloth, we had prepared for such an occasion. 

 

“Shhh,” I began calmly, looking down on him with my beast’s eyes and face.  “You have been a very naughty boy, Mr. Stern.”  His eyes widened as he gazed deeply into the beast's eyes, lost in the void, his sins reflected back at him.  He knew and the fear began to flow from his pores mixed with his sweat.

 

“We know what you did,” My shadow continued unhindered, pulling a riding crop from the folds of my jacket.  “And, we feel punishment is in order.”

 

He growled through the nasty, filthy stained cloth indignantly, which we rewarded with a slap to the face with a gloved hand.  We had done this countless times before and it always felt good for us both.  There is never a lack of sin in the world, and we drank it like fine wine.

 

His eyes widened even further as I pulled a knife from my jacket and cut the pajamas from his bloated form, leaving him exposed and naked in the moonlight.

“Do you atone for your sins?”  My shadow asked through my mouth.  “Say no, say no, say no.”  He whispered under our breath with giddiness.

 

Stern growled once more, with what sounded like outrage.  The riding crop came down hard against his blubbery flesh with a crack, causing a muffled yelp.

“Wrong,” we said hitting him again three more times across the chest, stomach and finally, squarely in the genitals.

 

Stern howled against the rag, finally able to get the rag from his mouth.  He screamed at us, “Stop!  I’ll give you anything you want!  I have money!  I won’t say a word.”

 

We slapped him again then covered his mouth and nose with the gloved hand.  “Anything, you say?”  We feigned consideration.  “I have an awfully vivid imagination, Mr. Stern.”  He struggled to talk through the gloved hand before we released our grasp. 

 

Stern gasped for air, his chest heaving with the bright red streak across it.  “Yes…yes…anything.”

 

We nodded, “Very well.”  We grabbed a piece of his shredded pajamas and stuffed it more firmly into his mouth.  “We want to beat the sin from your body.  Thirty hits for each of the children and women you molested.”  We both smiled at this, “It is going to be a long night.”

 

The beast laughed through my teeth with each resounding crack of the riding crop, giggling as Stern’s bloated form jiggled like warm pudding.  “Oh, this is exactly what the doctor ordered,” he exclaimed gleefully at one point and backhanded the old man viciously.  I cannot say that I did not enjoy the display as I allowed him to torture the sin from the old man’s body.  However, I would have been much more eloquent in my execution.  Verbalization tends to ruin the moment for me; I chose my words much more carefully.

 

For an hour, he beat Mr. Stern, covering every inch of his body with welts he would never forget, just as those he victimized would never forget.  Unfortunately, he did nothing to warrant death, so when we were finished, we knocked him unconscious and cut a sliver of flesh from his torso – he had plenty to spare – and left him handcuffed.  I carefully erased our presence from the home, leaving no trace.  We exited into the night, leaving him to be found by the reporter from the Richmond Times Dispatch, whom we called from a Stern’s phone when we were safely distant from the home. 

 

“Ahh,” The beast sighed with satisfaction.  “That was quite fun, don’t you think?”

 

“Yes,” I agreed, but I was more pleased that this would sate him for at least another week, allowing me to focus on my new pet and her training.  Without his constant complaints and the research time, I could spend quality time with her, instructing her in her new role.  And as we rode the rest of the way back to my home, he fell asleep in the back of my mind – thankfully filled with the sin of such a pathetic man.  Without my temperance and guidance, he would have simply devoured the man.  But we cannot have an unleashed beast roaming the streets.  There is still innocence in the world.

 

The next morning, I fixed an omelet, including the trophy from Mr. Stern’s ample supply, he did indeed taste quite like pork.  Each bite brought a small smile to my face as I read the story about our task the previous night.  “Congressman Stern Confesses!” 

 

It was seldom that our work went unheeded.  The beast had been brutal to the now defamed Mr. Stern, a beating he would never forget, nor would he ever want to repeat.  But in prison, as irony would have it, child molesters were usually victimized in the same manner in which they had victimized others.  He would not survive, but it was not our responsibility to deliver death without purging the sin.  Mr. Stern would be swiftly punished to save face for his political party, deals made, monies paid, and a symphony of sighs and sobs would issue from the mouths of the vindicated. 

 

 “Sir?” Number One inquired timidly, interrupting my breakfast cautiously.  She had quietly entered the kitchen and was knelt at my side.

 

“Yes?”  I asked not looking up from the paper.

 

“She’s requesting your presence.”

 

I looked down at Number One, eyebrow raised.  “Requests aren’t allowed.  Did you explain that to her?”

 

Number One nodded quickly, “Yes, Sir.  She is insisting.”

 

“Insis…”  I started, flabbergasted.  “Go prepare the rack, while I go deal with this insolence.”

 

I had overestimated my control.  She clearly did not understand and where things were going.  But I had met with resistance before, and I was sure I’d have it under control in a few days.  I had many methods for breaking individuals, but I had hoped she would submit and accept more willingly.  While I was exhilarated by the thought of a challenge, I did not have the time to play with her.  The world was changing rapidly, and soon our mission would change, the beast and I were to evolve.  We both knew that the timeline was shortening at an alarming rate, and that there were others, more powerful at our heels.

I strode up to the room, where she lay still bound and naked on the bed, her lips a lovely shade of blue from the temperature in the room, shivering.  However, at the time it did not register through my rage, but she seemed to have sustained no lasting marks from the night before.  This was intriguing and troubling to me.

 

“What?”  I asked as I flung open the door. 

 

“Please, Sir,” she said against the gag which had come loose.  “Please.”

 

“Please what?”  I responded, raising a brow.

 

“More,” she whispered, timidly.  “More, Sir.”

 

“You don’t get to ask for anything, pet Number Five,” I said pithily then shut the door.

 

Number Two and Four were lounging on the bench by the window, laying in the sunlight when I exited.  I beckoned them to come to me.

“Clean her up, take her down to the playroom and put her on the rack,” I said, and they dutifully complied.

 

I returned to my breakfast, but something in the back of my mind nagged in the place of my beast.  Something told me that I should release Number Five and move on to someone less willful, but I never shy away from a challenge, she would submit, they always do.  Charlotte was an aberration, an unfortunate event in my life.  She would have submitted eventually, but the body can only endure so much, much less than the mind.

 

In the late afternoon, after allowing Number Five to understand the extent of my displeasure with her, I entered the basement, our playroom.  I had collected a great many devices of torture – and pleasure – over the years.  One of my favorite items was a rack I had built myself, which all my pets have experienced at one point or another.  It was designed to allow the arms and legs to be adjusted in a spread-eagle position, allowing me unhindered access to the body for any type of punishment necessary.  Under the glow of a black light, Number Five was bound thusly, straps binding her arms, legs and mid-section, a gag over her mouth, and blind-folded. 

 

“One,” I said to my dutiful pet.  “Bring me the clamps.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” she responded without hesitation and went to the cabinet on the far wall, where I kept my instruments of discipline.  Thankfully, the beast was still asleep from our game of beat the politician – I could take my time.  Nearby, the other three pets watched from their mattress, I knew they were just as anxious to see her reactions as I was.  They had grown to enjoy the punishments because they knew it brought happiness to our home.  We would not allow this foolish pet to think she had the wherewithal to defy me.

 

I took the nipples clamps and affixed them to my newest pet, her body responded immediately to my touch, and she struggled against the restraints, her hips undulating like a whore riding a john.  I then attached the chain between the clamps to another chain dangling above the rack, pulling her nipples and breasts taut and upright.  I knew that it was not, in itself, going to deter her – most of the pets had grown to enjoy the rack, humans are such predictable, simple animals.  We would have to sate the insatiable, which I had become exceedingly good at.

 

“Do you still want more?”  I whispered in her ear before biting it hard enough to draw blood.

 

She nodded her head, with a muffled moan, fighting against the restraints.

 

I have found that if someone is never sated with a particular thing, one must overdose on that thing until they desire it no longer.  Treat gluttony with gluttony.  In this case, if she wanted more, I would give her more, but not in the sense she wanted.  This was not about her desires, it is always about my desires, and she would learn that.  If I wanted to use her, it would be when I wanted to use her.  Her desires were, and always would be, irrelevant.  For this particular punishment, I had a special machine, which would wear out her secret spot until she didn’t want it anymore.

 

I rolled the device from the corner of the room and placed it on a track and gently pushed the apparatus between her legs until the artificial phallus was just touching the red velvet folds of her glistening lily.  She squirmed, but was unable to escape.

 

“Remember,” I said as I turned on the switch and the apparatus churned to life.  “Too much of anything is never a good thing, my pet.” 

I engaged the surrogate phallus, which went slowly at first so I could gauge the depth, and then I adjusted a dial to make it move more rapidly.  As I suspected, she responded to the device willingly, but that would change over the course of unrelenting hours.

 

“When you have had enough,” I said, opening the clenched fingers on her right hand, and placing a single sleigh-sleighbell palm of her hand, “release the bell and I will return.”

 

I grabbed her chin in my hand and yanked it in my direction.  “Do you understand, my bad pet?”

 

She was moaning and whimpering against the gag but nodded.

 

“Good,” I said tersely and smacked her hard on the inner thigh, before walking over to where my other pets were waiting, watching with languid, sensual smiles as they observed their new sister. 

 

“One,” I said in an annoyed tone.  “When she drops the bell, come and fetch me.”  I waved a hand dismissively in number Fives direction.  “And I want you to increase the speed by one notch every fifteen minutes.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” Number One responded dutifully.

 

“She’ll never make it to 6,” I said, as I remembered only Charlotte made it to six, and that proved fatal.  “Two and three, to my bedroom.  I will give you what Number Five so desires.”

 

It was unfair of me, but I would have to take out my frustration on the others.  I would never allow any of them to know that I was angered by the affair, it was my responsibility to remain calm, careful, and collected.  Anger was food for the beast, and I could feel him stirring at my agitation.  Though he was an immense burden on my soul, we shared a symbiotic relationship which benefited us both.  He empowered me in ways of which I am unable to speak aloud or write down or the agreement would be void.  The only proper place of secrecy is in the depths of one’s mind.  Only the creator, the architect, can see into the mind of his constructs.  But, since I was now the ‘creator’ of my pets, I could see into their minds.  But Number Five’s mind would remain dark to my vision until her training was complete.  I would destroy her and rebuild her to my vision, our vision.

 

While my newest pet was being conditioned, I abused and used Two and Three relentlessly, all the while the beast threatening to wake under the noise of my internal irritation – but he did not.  One of my favorite forms of relaxation was to savagely violate one pet, while the other administered punishment on her.  And then of course, this would be repeated on the other until I was sufficiently sated and calmed.  It was nearly three hours when I was to the point of exhaustion and dismissed the pets back to their room and settled down for a nap.

 

Hours later, Number One stirred me gently from my sleep. “Sir?”  This was usually a punishable offense, but in this instance, she had been instructed to tell me when the bell had dropped.

 

“Is she ready to submit?”  I asked standing and dressing myself.

 

“The bell has dropped, Sir,” she said timidly.  “But I think it’s because she’s unconscious.  She is alive, though.”

 

“Very well,” I responded thoughtfully.  “Did she make it past six?”

 

Number One shook her head slowly, “No, Sir.  Only four.”

 

I nodded, “Turn off the device, and remove her bonds.  She’ll need to be cleaned and fed.  And later this evening we will collar her so we can continue to the next phase.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” she responded quickly, and moved towards the door.

 

“Also,” I said in afterthought.  “Put her in the cage for now.  Just in case she’s had second thoughts.  If she leaves, it will be on my terms and not hers.”

The fact that she had not made it to six was quite encouraging.  She may lose her residual will sooner than I had expected.  This pleased me deeply for the process of breaking a pet was not nearly as enjoyable as training.  But to be trained they must be broken.  The training itself would be exhausting for her, her entire way of life was about to change, and humans are generally resistant to change.  Everything she knew about herself – how to act, what she wanted, what she ate and what she dreamed, would be expunged from her soul and replaced with my will.

 

When I entered the kitchen, Number Four was preparing food for her and her sisters.  Each of them was on a specially designed liquid diet, no solid foods were allowed except for small treats which I would reward for exemplary deeds.  This allowed me to control their weight, their health, and their state of mind all at once.  As I’ve said, pets require a great deal of attention, and a satisfactory owner will spend the time necessary to properly care for his possessions.  Because it is generally frowned on for one person to own human pets, all of their care fell solely on my shoulders.  No one knew that they were even here.

As the sun set, I dined alone in my study, making notes in my journal about the events of the day.  The night before had been more eventful than usual, so I had a great deal to chronicle.  After which, I burned all of number Five’s clothes, and any other flammable possessions, in the fire.  The rest of her belongings were placed in the safe hidden behind the Louis Icart “Telling Secrets” painting on the wall behind my desk – which for security purposes, would explode if anyone attempted to open it incorrectly.  Everything must always be carefully calculated.

 

Because I had never asked her name, I did not need to forget it.  The person who had entered my home the night before was dead, forever an unsolved mystery, immortal in a sense, because some idealistic detective would spend his sad, dwindling days searching for the girl who did not want to be found.  I had done this so many times before, that it had become second nature, just like feeding the beast.  Once that collar was fastened around her sublime, milky skin, the black leather in stark contrast and unmistakable, she would be mine for as long as I desired it.  I shuddered at the thought, the smell of the leather mixed with her female scents was intoxicating, one of my favorite indulgences.  The sexual aspect of my relationship with my pets was the least important.  It was the control and worship, the complete and utter dependency on my intellect and care – I was their god.  But also, I knew that I would require the assistance of my pets in the days and years to come.  They would ultimately be expendable in the wake of my own survival. 

 

At 9:00 I descended into the basement once more, four of the pets were lounging on their mattresses, speaking quietly amongst themselves.  In the corner, in a cramp birdlike cage, number Five was suspended, sipping from her cup and watching the others silently.  They did not notice my presence immediately as I listened and observed.  I am sure to understand every aspect of my pet’s lives, and by observing them from the shadows, I could anticipate issues before they could arise.  While I did not feel that death was ever a viable option, they knew I was capable of unrelenting punishment that would make them wish for death.  But this evening all my pets were being well behaved, even number Five as she rocked herself gently in the cage.  Despite the inherent darkness, it was pastoral to watch – and I stood there like an artist admiring his work, yet the scene was still quite unfinished.

 

“Pets,” I barked stepping from the darkness.  The four scurried to kneel before me, while number Five kept her head down, floating helplessly in the cage. 

 

"Yes, Sir,” the four responded in unison, number Five a fraction of a second behind.  Sloppy, but excusable.

 

“We will be teaching my newest pet what it means to submit to my will.”  I said stepping over to the cabinet in the corner.  “But, first, I wish for you to recite the rules so that she may hear.  After this evening, it is your responsibility to see that she memorizes them, and complies.”  I returned to stand before them. 

 

“And why is it your responsibility?”

 

“Rule number one,” they began in perfect unison.  “Any pet that breaks a rule will cause all pets to be punished.”

 

“Excellent,” I said with no masked pride.  Rules are the most important aspect of the training.  Rules bring order to an otherwise chaotic existence.  And rules, more than anything else, ensure the continued benefits of my protection and care.

 

“You may continue,” I motioned with a dismissive gesture.

 

“Rule number two – A pet may never make their presence known to anyone beyond the walls of this house.

Rule number three – A pet must always remain clean and ready for inspection.

Rule number four – A pet must never eat anything other than what the master tells it.

Rule number five – A pet must not wake the master unless given previous permission to do so.

Rule number six – A pet must never request anything from the master unless given permission to do so.

Rule number seven – A pet must not speak to the beast, even if spoken to.”

 

The seventh rule was very important.  My shadow must never influence my pets.

 

“Rule number eight,” they continued their litany perfectly.  “A pet is not permitted to sleep or lay on any furniture upstairs unless given permission.

Rule number nine – A pet must never remove their collar or ID tag.

Rule number ten – A pet must always address the master as Sir.

Rule number eleven – A pet may never wear clothes unless given permission.

Rule number twelve – A pet must never, under any circumstances, look the master in the eyes.

Rule number thirteen – The rules are subject to change at the will of the master.  New rules or changes must be memorized immediately.”

 

I looked over at number Five.  “Do you understand the rules, pet number Five?”

 

“Yes, Sir,” she responded in a small, shaky, fearful voice.  My punishment seemed to have had an impact on her willingness to comply. 

 

“Good girl,” I said and motioned to the others.  “Prepare her as you’ve been taught.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” they responded again before hastening to lower number Five from her cage. 

 

The ritual was simple and elegant in its execution.  The four trained pets clad their newest sister in a nearly transparent gown, similar to the one she had worn the night before, except this gown reacted with ultraviolet light, causing it to glow ethereally.  This would be the last time she would be the center of anyone’s attention. 

 

She was then bound at the wrists and strung up in the center of the room where a white circle with special symbols had been inscribed, symbols of which I may not speak.  The four pets arranged themselves around the circle, as I hoisted her up so that her feet were barely off the floor, giving her the illusion of support.  When the lights were extinguished, the circle and her robe glowed with an otherworldly quality, everything else melted into the shadows, vanishing from her sight.

 

I could see her chest heaving as fear slithered over her flesh like a viper over an infant, coiling itself around her body, the grip tightening.

 

“Do you submit?”  I began, uncoiling a bull whip which was held behind my back.

 

“Yes…Sir,” she stuttered, fear fully evident in her expression.  I could hear him stirring within me.  I needed this to be quick, lest I awaken him.  He could smell her fear, and he would take the chance to consume her.

 

“We will begin by purging the fear from you,” I said and without warning proceeded to lash her three times around the torso and hips.  She screamed, as they all had the first time.  The pain was like fire, flames lapping at her supple skin.

 

“Who protects you?”  I asked, lashing her again around her legs.

 

“YOU SIR!” she screamed uncontrollably at the top of her lungs.  Clearly, she had never experienced this level of pain before, but it was necessary.  If I would deliver this pain in the beginning of our arrangement, it made them wonder what further horrors of which I was capable.

 

“Who am I?” lashing her thrice more about the torso, drawing blood on the third hit, the crimson stain spreading quickly through the fragile cloth.  She did not answer.

 

"Who am I?”  I repeated louder than before, yet maintaining composure, delivering another savage blow.

 

"I...I don't know," she gasped, wincing at the pain, yet something about her face changed, shadows shifting under the soft purplish glow.

 

"I am Master,” I said matter-of-factly, and delivered two more final blows.  I strode across the barrier of the circle and grabbed her by the throat.  As I did, she erupted into an uncontrollable orgasm, so violent that she shook as she dangled by her wrists.  I smacked her hard across the face, causing blood to appear on her lips before putting the collar around her throat, binding it tightly.

 

"I will tell you when you enjoy my punishments from now on,” I snarled, becoming impatient.  "I should..."

 

My words stopped just inside my mouth as my shadow awoke abruptly.  Something was wrong.

 

"MOVE!" The Beast screamed.  But it was a fraction of an instant too late.  Without warning, she lifted her legs up and wrapped them around me, pulling me tightly against her and before I could react, she looked up at me, gazing deeply into my eyes, a wry smile curling her bloody lips.

 

"Mmmm," she purred, placing a kiss on my lips.  I was stunned and the beast raged and howled inside.  "That's where you've been hiding, you naughty little puppy."

 

I lost control of our body as the beast took control with power I’d never experienced before.  I fell back behind him into the subconscious, as he snarled at number Five. 

 

"Olivia," he growled in his true voice.  "You meddlesome bitch!"

 

Number Five's appearance, reflected in my eyes, his eyes, had changed.  We had been fooled. 

 

"I told you, you naughty, naughty little dog,” she squeezed us tightly between her thighs, making it hard to breathe, grinding her pelvis into us as she did.  "I told you that you couldn't hide for long and that eventually, I’d get bored enough to make you the center of my attention.  And I’ve been really bored lately."

The beast snapped at her, struggling to escape her inhuman grasp.  "What the fuck do you want, whore?!  I haven't done a damn thing to you or any of your little slave bitches in over a century.  I told you I was done in England."

 

She squeezed us again, cracking a rib in the process, laughing musically, deafeningly.  "Actually, it’s not yet been a century. You think I've forgotten all the trouble you've caused me?  Do you think I'd just let you go across the pond and not punish you for what you did?"  She leaned in and bit us hard on the neck, drawing blood then spat it in our face.  "You are pathetic.  I don’t fear you, demon.  Feeding off the sleepers is like shooting cattle in a barn.  Go back to the Spaces Between.”  She narrowed her gaze, look at me, behind the beast, impossibly so.

 

“Oh, shut the fuck up, bitch,” replied the beast trying to gain control of its own demeanor.  “They are multiplying like rabbits and soon there won’t be anything left for us.”  He growled, “You’re using it right now, you dumb bitch because I released it. How about a thank you?”

 

“I think banishment is in order,” she hissed.  “I’m sure I can find five others who’ll agree, now that I’ve found your host."  She smiled again, “Unfortunately, this is my second attempt.  But you’re host idiotically killed my last decoy.”

 

Charlotte, I whispered from behind him.  He barked at her like a dog, struggling once more, almost freeing himself, but she intensified her grip, ensnared by her raw Weirdness.

 

"And" she smiled still gazing deeply into his eyes, our eyes, "you in your primordial intelligence failed to realize that you’d stolen aspects of my own ritual.  You might as well have set off a signal flare."

 

He screamed, primal, gutturally, like an animal in a trap trying to gnaw off its leg.  "Release me!"

 

"Oh," she purred once more.  "Oh I intend to.  But not before we tell your host the truth about you.  The truth about what you have planned."

 

His eyes widened, and before he could say another word, she continued.

 

"Hear me, host.  Your days are numbered.  Even now he is growing ever powerful with each and every sin he consumes, each soul that he purges.  You are damned, so savor your moments, and savor your pets.  You will not survive much longer."

 

She leaned in once more and bit our lower lip, gasping with a pleasured laugh.  "He will consume you too."

 

"You fucking whore," the beast screamed and snapped at her again.

 

“I may be, but not your whore,” she winked.  "I'll be seeing you soon."

 

She released us and kicked us back out of the circle, leaving number Five dangling unconscious from her bonds, swaying from side to side.  I was in control again.

 

I stood shakily, and looked for the others, my ribs screamed with pain.  The pets were huddled on their mattress, whimpering softly, covering their heads. 

 

"What the…," I started, but he did not let me finish. 

 

"It is time to leave this place," his anger boiled my blood, his guilt caused my skin to crawl.  "I'm not going to let that self important bitch ruin our fun."

I stood there in the darkness, watching, thinking, and listening.  I was clearly dealing with forces I did not completely understand, but her words resonated with me.  I knew her words were true, but I would not accept fate.  Fate is for the foolish and I will overcome.  I knew that I too had sinned, and that this would be my punishment.  But ultimately, I must be rewarded for controlling the tempest.

 

"Very well," I said with finality.  "I will begin making arrangements.  But, I am taking my new pet with us."

 

"Are you fucking mad?" he growled at me with incredulity.  "She'll find us again!"

 

"She will anyway," I responded, despite his protests.  "And, I have other plans.  There is always another plan, though you never agree with my meticulous strategies."

 

I knew he agreed, under the heavy blanket of rage and hunger.  He had chosen me for a reason, out of all the others he could have chosen.  And though I never forgot her words, I have been able to control him all this time.

 

"Pets," I called to the others who quickly huddled around me, needing my comfort, my direction.  Their world was about to change, all of our worlds.  "Help me cut down your new sister and tend to her."

 

"Yes, Sir," they responded dutifully, nodding in vehement agreement.

 

"And," I said, mustering all the composure in my being.  "You will never speak of this night again, to me or to her.  Is that understood?"

 

"Yes, Sir," they repeated.

 

"I'll kill that bitch," he murmured over and over in my mind, receding.  His power drained, and he was once again drifting into a fitful slumber.  "I'll kill her."

As I cut down number Five, she stirred from her unconsciousness.  Her body beaten and bloodied, but already healing from the residual power of Olivia's presence, the Witch of the Wood, the Dark Mistress.  I knew of her from his slumbered ravings, but I had not suspected that Charlotte was her minion.  He was preparing me all along, knowing this moment would come.  We coexisted in this body, it was only natural that he would want to protect me, a good host is hard to find.

 

The other pets took number Five and cared for her, leaving me to my thoughts and my slumbering shadow.  Though I had never noticed it before, I became aware of the burden he placed upon me, weighing heavy on my soul.  You may judge me for the things I've done, but it falls on disinterested ears.  A sword is only evil if it is wielded by an evil soul, and I know in the depth of my being that I am not evil.  We still have work to be done.  And I will not stop.

I turned on the lights in that defiled chamber, insecure that it had been violated so innocently.  I wanted to leave now; the residue of her presence soured the ground.  Her words echoed in my mind over and over.  Despite her dire prophecy, I have continued to exist, and we have punished many sinners since we relocated to our new home, the lair of the beast.  Never a moment goes by that I don't think of that night, number Five dangling bloodied and beaten, clad in gossamer light.  She has become my favorite, my harbinger, my reminder, no recollection of her possession by the Dark Mistress.  She has taken her place among the others, yet they all know she has stolen my heart, yet, she will never know.  If I am consumed, she will be my savior from the void.  I will walk this world as my punishment, and continue to protect my pets, even after time and pestilence have eaten this shell.  I will not forsake them for I am their master, their creator, their protector.

 

As the final twilight falls, all is quiet in our new abode, the world crumbling inexorably around us, consumed with sin and we are always hungry.  Soon, the end will come, and my new plans will be enacted, plans that even the beast is unaware of.  It is only by careful planning that one survives, and I will survive...someway.

[Sthan Dust]

Of course, there's a clue to things to come in the above story.  I wrote this a long time ago, in a different life.

[Sthan Dust]

I hope I didn't offend with my story.  The beast is an integral point of this mod.  This was meant to explore the depths of depravity.  

 

Update:

-- Updating the SA Slut Perk integration

-- Adding Post-Partum and STD integration from Wasteland Dairy and Family Planning Enhanced Redux

-- Sanity re-level.  I am okay with Sanity dropping below 0, but I should place a limit to avoid math errors.  (I'm thinking -100 being the floor) I would then stratify sanity levels by a grading system. 

-- Releveling encounter numbers for Sanity, Alignment, etc...  I found it was progressing too fast in my personal play through.

-- Rubbish and nonsense planned.
 

ETA is this weekend, but it may have to shift, depending on my regression testing.  I need to change some fundamental objects.  Clean save may be required.

 

❤️

 

[rkd13a]

sounds exciting.

everything is progressing nicely, I am looking forward to when we start getting consequences for... being a bit off center...

 

I can hardly wait ^^

[bedellia]

11 hours ago, Sthan Dust said:

I hope I didn't offend with my story.  The beast is an integral point of this mod.  This was meant to explore the depths of depravity.  

 

Update:

-- Updating the SA Slut Perk integration

-- Adding Post-Partum and STD integration from Wasteland Dairy and Family Planning Enhanced Redux

-- Sanity re-level.  I am okay with Sanity dropping below 0, but I should place a limit to avoid math errors.  (I'm thinking -100 being the floor) I would then stratify sanity levels by a grading system. 

-- Releveling encounter numbers for Sanity, Alignment, etc...  I found it was progressing too fast in my personal play through.

-- Rubbish and nonsense planned.
 

ETA is this weekend, but it may have to shift, depending on my regression testing.  I need to change some fundamental objects.  Clean save may be required.

 

❤️

 

Hi Sthan great story ! It reminds me some things I've written Long Time ago ?

I'm eagger to test your next release. Thank you 

[ecastellvi]

Great story, Sthan! Loved it!

[sgtpeppers47]

I probably ran around Concord so many times and I can’t seem to find Alice’s house. I’m assuming it’s somewhere ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ any help would be nice?

[rkd13a]

take the road going past Red Rocket, its on the left in Concord, looks for candles

Edited March 18, 2022 by rkd13a

[ecastellvi]

On 3/17/2022 at 4:16 PM, sgtpeppers47 said:

I probably ran around Concord so many times and I can’t seem to find Alice’s house. I’m assuming it’s somewhere ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ any help would be nice?

It's the rabbit hole

[Karna5]

Hi, Sthan. I hope you're well. I made a film with my negative 1283 sanity character today which I think you might appreciate. She wandered into the Asylum and saw skeletons sitting in wheel chairs and decided to make the film.

 

 

On a side note, considering her playstyle of charging several monsters without armor or weapons hoping she can kill them all before she gets killed (she does actually die a lot), and considering how often she gets defeated and captured and then slaughters all her captors in cold blood while they beg for mercy, I suspect whatever punishment you end up dishing out to someone with such negative sanity is probably sensible, haha.

 

I look forward to your next update! I'm sure it'll be a lot of fun Thanks!

 

Edited March 19, 2022 by Karna5
[Added a spoiler for the video link]

[Sthan Dust]

Good afternoon!

 

I just wanted to give a quick update.  I have finished a bit of bug fixing, as well as added a bunch of new Sanity Effects.

I am planning on releasing tomorrow night, I just need to test a bit more. But we're finally ready for 1.80.

 

I'll provide a change log later today. ❤️

 

[Sthan Dust]

On 3/18/2022 at 10:47 PM, Karna5 said:

Hi, Sthan. I hope you're well. I made a film with my negative 1283 sanity character today which I think you might appreciate. She wandered into the Asylum and saw skeletons sitting in wheel chairs and decided to make the film.

 

 

  Reveal hidden contents

 

 

 

On a side note, considering her playstyle of charging several monsters without armor or weapons hoping she can kill them all before she gets killed (she does actually die a lot), and considering how often she gets defeated and captured and then slaughters all her captors in cold blood while they beg for mercy, I suspect whatever punishment you end up dishing out to someone with such negative sanity is probably sensible, haha.

 

I look forward to your next update! I'm sure it'll be a lot of fun Thanks!

 

 

This is amazing!

 

Yes, about the -1283 sanity.  I was going to cap this, but it makes more sense to me.  The lower you go, the hard it is to come back if you decide to be sane again.  

I think you will like the new changes ❤️

 

[Sthan Dust]

Good Sunday to you all!

 

I am in the final testing phase of the 1.80 (You. Release).  Here are the tentative release features and fixes:

 

-- Splintered:  You now will be given abilities depending on certain situations.  For now, they will pop up on the UI, so you can understand what is being applied.  Each splinter has a different effect.  But every time one of these effects happens, you lose a bit more control over You.  But don't worry, I always provide salvation.

-- Sanity Restoration: Certain events will restore bits of Sanity.  Now that you're all delightfully mad, it's time to start explaining, through prose, what is actually happening.

-- Permanent Splinters: Certain items or event will allow your fragile mind to be permanently splintered with a new "Personality" speaking.  The first is introduced in this update.  However, don't expect a conversation just yet, it takes time to form a bond in this manner.

-- Sanity Levels: I decided not to cap Sanity at a base.  The lower you go, the harder it is to come back.  

-- New Books:  There are several new books.  Location clues will be on the main page when I release.  The spoilers will be in the MCM.

-- Bugs: One function had to be rewritten because it was erroneously damaging sanity instead of the reverse.

 

This is a major update to gameplay.  You will notice the more insane you are, the harder the game will become.   

Much of this is in preparation for a proper quest that I've been writing.  I hope to have that available in version 2.0, that will introduce a new location as well.

 

And just so you know, I shall be on holiday for the last week of March. 

I will test for a few more hours, then I will post after I remove the debugs and such.

 

❤️

 

 

[jbezorg]

You might want to split the framework from the quest into two separate components/mods before it becomes too big to do so with all the work you're adding. I had Sanity Framework loaded early like I do for all other frameworks but other mods were overwriting the SF quest changes.

The slow decline into insanity is an interesting twist to the game ???

[Sthan Dust]

7 minutes ago, jbezorg said:

You might want to split the framework from the quest into two separate components/mods before it becomes too big to do so with all the work you're adding. I had Sanity Framework loaded early like I do for all other frameworks but other mods were overwriting the SF quest changes.

The slow decline into insanity is an interesting twist to the game ???

Ahh.  Good idea.  I should probably split the Level Design things from the rest of the mod.  That can overwrite things.  The new quest things will be completely separate so that you can unload them when you are done playing the quest if you so choose.  All objects will be stored by the framework so unloading the quest won't thank things away.

 

Do you know what being overwritten so I can rename them?  I probably should change the Namespace to SDSF for something to keep it more unique.  I try to preface all objects and variables, etc with SD_ so I can easily filter in the CK.

 

And I think you will all like the new additions.  ❤️