>>678670
See, now, wouldn't you have been more able to laugh in that guy's face if you hadn't killed that guy so predictably? :P

Walk around the house while looking over the surrounding landscape. What do you see? We should also decide whether we should meet the guy at the gardens or say fuck it and go off rails.

>>678670
Find you at Marble Gardens. Great, you fucknugget, how about some fucking directions to them, you smug cunt?

>Walk around the house while looking over the surrounding landscape. What do you see?

From where I stand facing south looks to be an orchard of sorts. The trees are all lined up in neat rows while the grass between has been mowed, but the leaves are uniformly yellow. Maybe there is a farmhouse or barn, but it’s hard to tell without binoculars.

To the east is a an old junkyard. Many rusted car frames have been assembled into a small mountain of brown and red steel while crows and buzzards circle up above.

On the northern side of the house I can see the remains of a road, stretching from the southwest to the northeast.
To the west is an expanse of rolling hills, which leads to a sea of tall grass.

Well your probably hungry; check the orchard for anything to eat.

King of the Sky Pilots 2015/10/22(Thu)16:42 No. 678802 ID: 00a7e4
File 144555737697.jpg - (236.20KB , 576x576 , MOF015.jpg )

>Well you’re probably hungry; check the orchard for anything to eat.

Now that you mention it, I am pretty fucking hungry. With no movement on the horizon, I decide to jog down towards the orchard. I cover a lot of ground, despite being barefoot, and my movements feel smooth and natural, like I’ve been running every day for years. The earth becomes soft and pliable the closer I get to the strange trees, but something catches my eye.

It’s a placard nailed to a tree. Rather than painted, the message is hand carved. “WARNING: If you can read this then you are in range. Thieves and trespassers shall be shot on sight. Friendlies should approach along the stone fence ½ mile east.

From where I stand I can tell the trees don’t bear any fruit. Perhaps they’ve already been harvested. They look strange, too; I can’t tell what species they are, but they’re similar to oaks. There are no fallen leaves, and the branches are thick with yellow canopy. Even the grass seems off in hue.

Well, there's no reason not to follow the instructions.

Just...be cautious while you do.

King of the Sky Pilots 2015/10/23(Fri)16:55 No. 678941 ID: 00a7e4
File 144564455699.jpg - (270.95KB , 576x576 , MOF016.jpg )

>Well, there's no reason not to follow the instructions.

The path was easy enough to find. It cuts right through the center of the orchard before curving towards the farm house. Well, it’s more of a wooden castle, really. Taller than it is wide with lots of small windows, a moat and even a drawbridge. A staircase leads up from the ground to the second floor where a retractable walkway provides the only access to the interior. It’s a rather ingenious set up, really. A self sustaining property ready built for sedentary survival.

I wave towards the place as I approach its front gate, but there are no signs of life to be seen. The sign reads “Please wait here”, leading me to suspect that the current residents are watching from up high, and eventually someone will come down to meet me, probably well armed and very suspicious.

King of the Sky Pilots 2015/10/23(Fri)16:56 No. 678942 ID: 00a7e4
File 144564458667.jpg - (213.59KB , 576x576 , MOF017.jpg )

*CLICK* “Don’t fucking move. Tell me who you are and what you want. Now.”

>>678942
Tell him you're looking for the Marble Gardens.

>>678943
This.

Do we know who we are?

>>678942
"No."

>Do we know who we are?

Now that I think about it, I don't seem to remember my name. What else have I forgotten about my past life? I can't recall what I looked like, where I was born or who was in my family, but I do recall an awful lot of greasy meals, cheap beer and chain smoking. I might have been a laborer.

>Tell him you're looking for the Marble Gardens.

"Uh, I'm looking for the marble gardens," I say nervously. I've never had anyone point a gun at my back, that's for sure, and it makes me feel like I have to shit something fierce. Luckily, my bowels and bladder have been empty for a long time.

The person looks surprised at your response, as if that was the last thing he expected. His aim momentarily goes weak before quickly adjusting his stance. "Marble... Gardens? Enough with the jokes! Tell me your story or I'll put a bullet in your fucking head!"

"What do you expect me to tell you? I did exactly three things today: woke up in a house, fought a blue person and randomly walked here. I know nothing beyond that I'm supposed to find someone at Marble Gardens."

>>678947
Tell him this is a far more hostile interrogation than you expected from the sign.

>"What do you expect me to tell you? I did exactly three things today: woke up in a house, fought a blue person and randomly walked here. I know nothing beyond that I'm supposed to find someone at Marble Gardens."

There’s a long pause. I’m too afraid to turn around and face the stranger, but I feel holding up my hands would be appropriate. I don’t want to make any subtle movements either. I hear him breath heavily, then he speaks. “Okay. Now turn around.”

The person I’m facing isn’t as tall as I expected, but the well maintained denim pants and cotton shirt insist that he’s at least civilized. The pistol holster on his hip and the various pouches strapped to his torso with leather belts suggest that he’s resourceful and probably dangerous. The rifle is trained to my head with terrifying stillness. “Now, drop your shit and strip.”

Well, that’s not something that I expected, but it makes sense. Best way to see if I got anything hidden and lethal on my person.

King of the Sky Pilots 2015/10/23(Fri)18:12 No. 678961 ID: 00a7e4
File 144564916771.jpg - (232.12KB , 576x576 , MOF018.jpg )

I do as instructed. It takes seconds for the toga to drop to the ground, and he gasps. Strangely, the sound made by the air escaping his lungs didn’t fit the voice that was previously speaking to me. In fact, as I find out when she lowered her shroud, this person was a woman. A rather beautiful woman, to be honest.

“You’re real, aren’t you?” she asks quietly, her voice now far more feminine. “I - I mean,” she stammers, “you’re really a man? A human male?” She looks like she’s about to cry.

"No. I am a skeleton in heavy disguise."

No, I'm just a very manly woman.

King of the Sky Pilots 2015/10/23(Fri)20:09 No. 678978 ID: 00a7e4
File 144565615389.jpg - (165.30KB , 576x576 , MOF019.jpg )

"No. I am a skeleton in heavy disguise."

"Alright, smart ass," she says dryly as she lowers the weapon from my direction and takes a more open and sociable stance, "I know that must be a dumb question on my part, what with a package that... obvious, but you need to understand: you're the first human male I've seen in my life. Since I was a girl the old women told me that all the men were gone while the Masters of Fate remain. You know that old story, right?"

>>678978
What part of me only remembering as far back as a few hours ago do you not understand?

>"Shit, you're serious, aren't you? I was thinking you maybe ate some mushrooms from a cow pasture, but you don't look like someone coming down from hallucinogens. Look, I'm sorry for being a bitch, but it's not exactly safe out here. Are you hungry? Want something to drink, um, sir?"

Her position of strength and resolve has melted away, and this heavily armed woman now seems like a timid girl, afraid of offending some important adult. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes have trouble focusing on me for any length of time.

stories are powerful. tales of men have gotten to her.

re-don toga so she can calm down.

"Uh, how have you been reproducing?"

>>678978
Perhaps putting your pants back on would be wise for further conversation.

>stories are powerful. tales of men have gotten to her.

>re-don toga so she can calm down.

I grab the white sheets off the ground and tie them over my shoulder and around my waist once again. Certainly feel more comfortable this way and the woman eases up and relaxes.

>"Uh, how have you been reproducing?"


She shakes her head as the two of you head towards the castle. "Not easily, I can tell you that. They found out a long time ago that most mutant humanoids can reproduce with humans, but the cross species pairings only produce more mutant offspring. Being that they were designed to survive and thrive in the wastelands, their populations exploded while us 'originals' have only declined. Then about twenty years ago the Masters of Fate showed up out of nowhere. They look like men, but their power and savagery is inhuman. Their goal was to eradicate all male humans but themselves, so they could claim the honor of the world's most beautiful women. We weren't very strong to start with, so the Masters accomplished their task within two years. Since then they've been fighting their own proxy battles just to entertain themselves. You're a very important man, stranger, though I'm afraid you're in grave danger. If one of the four Masters were to discover your existence, they would stop at nothing to murder you."

"I woke up not long ago with no memory in a room with only a bed, and a note informing me that outside the room I was in was a guard who would kill me if I opened the door. What is the likelihood that one of these 'masters of fate' arranged this?"

Make a mental note to take revenge upon the mutants that dared soil human women with their touch.

Since she offered to make you more comfortable, ask her if she has any spare clothes. Sheet toga is a bit silly.

Ask her if the letter sequence YDBM means anything to her.

King of the Sky Pilots 2015/10/24(Sat)09:37 No. 679068 ID: 00a7e4
File 144570464247.jpg - (216.08KB , 576x576 , MOF020.jpg )

Inside the thick front door is a tall and cozy room that could best be described as a foyer. She gets a fire started and asks you to sit down before running off into an adjacent hallway. The place is very big, very quiet and quite intimidating. I imagine it was originally built by a person who owned lots of land and people, though its design and architecture isn’t familiar with existing plantations of the old world. The fire was nice and warm, though, and the big leather couch parked next to it was soft and comfortable. The red haired woman returned moments later with a stack of blankets, clothes, footwear and other sundries before scurrying off again. I thought there was a family or maybe an organized group that lived here, but I can’t hear any signs of life beyond the two of us. She comes back again, this time with a cup of hot black tea in each hand, hands me a cuppa and sits down on a chair opposite the couch.

“My name is Clara,” she states firmly, “and my mother and grandmother raised me to believe that one day a true man would return to the world, and if that happened I ought to be hospitable to him, to have clothes, tools and weapons ready for use. I’ve been waiting for this day my entire life and… I don’t even know how to feel. You act like you don’t know why you’re here, which scares me. Please, tell me the whole story, how you got here and what you’ve been doing.”

>"I woke up not long ago with no memory in a room with only a bed, and a note informing me that outside the room I was in was a guard who would kill me if I opened the door. What is the likelihood that one of these 'masters of fate' arranged this?"

“No, that doesn’t sound like their style. They’d kill you in your sleep rather than play games. I have a feeling someone else set this up, maybe as some kind of test. If you’re supposed to be a hero, they wanted to make sure you could stand up to the task.”

>Ask her if the letter sequence YDBM means anything to her.

“Hmm. I wanna say I saw that carved into a tree somewhere, but I can’t recall. Honestly, those letters could mean anything, but it certainly isn’t common in these parts.”

I tell her about the notes left inside and outside the house, and about meeting the stranger at the “Marble Gardens”.

“Right, that makes more sense now. YDBM is probably an monogram of someone’s name, though I couldn’t tell you who. I’ve never seen any marble gardens in real life, but they’re a location in a popular children’s story, a place where the innocent can live and laugh, free from the threat of monsters and mutants. Many adults have taken to calling the afterlife the Marble Gardens, others insist that it’s a real place, like the Fountain of Youth or the City of Gold, but anyone who actually goes looking for the place never returns to tell of it. Hell, maybe they do find the gardens and never wish to return? Must be a nice place.”

"So, this YDBM person could've meant it metaphorically? That we'll meet after I finish my supposed task that you think I have? *sigh* I wish I had a messiah complex - at least I'd feel flattered right now if it were certifiably true."

"Hmmm. siiiiiiiiiiiip So, do you live here alone? Who built this place? You mentioned a family and you've implied that there's some sort of civilization around here, but so far I've only seen you."

>"Hmmm. siiiiiiiiiiiip So, do you live here alone? Who built this place? You mentioned a family and you've implied that there's some sort of civilization around here, but so far I've only seen you."

She sighs heavily and stares into the black reflective surface of the tea cup. “My grandmother died of old age when I was young, and my mother… well, she was taken by Scourge, one of the Masters. She may have gone willingly, apparently members of a Master’s harem are treated comfortably in the lap of absolute luxury. Some even become powerful governors, but on the whole they are treated as slaves. I have no idea how she’s doing, or if she’s even alive.” I can tell she’s dealt with this sort of grief for a long time; bringing it up makes her a little sad, but not so much to bring a tear to her eye. A glimmer of hope remains, though. I think that hope is in me.

“As for who built this place, well… I’m not really sure. There are some old portraits of important looking men up in the attic, but there’s no documentation of who they are or how they relate to this place. It’s not that old, to be honest. Maybe about fifty or sixty years at the most, and its foundation is very solid. Very little wood rot to speak of.

“There are independent groups of human women, the closest one being Junktown. They’re pretty easy to spot, they’re unusually tall and strong, kinda like amazons, and take to wearing pieces of old steel car frames as armor. They’re doing quite well for themselves these days, and they’re about the only group of humans who can effectively terrify to the nomadic mutants in the sea of grass. I don’t think they’ll survive a full on attack from the Masters, though. They just don’t have the numbers. They think firearms are taboo, stupidly enough. They’re handy with bows and spears, though. Might be worth visiting them, I’m sure they’ll show you a good time!” she winks seductively. I think sex will be easily achieved in this world.

Yes, sex is pretty much guaranteed here, but let's not throw caution to the wind. Lack of men and harassment of the Masters could have turned some women into hardass dykes. But what kind of a manbeast would you be if amazons didn't stir your loins?

"Yes, I also think that visiting the home of the amazons would be truly...fortuitous. On the other hand, Clara, you have it pretty good out here. I bet there's nothing I could help you with here."*Blue Steel engaged*

Honestly, "YDBM," could be an acronym for the idiomatic, "You da big man!" Or it could alternatively be, "Your dripping bowel movement," instead. We lack sufficient information to productively speculate on that matter.
Seriously, what the heck is expected in the stories and how can we dodge the landmines? If I were one of these four bigshots I'd make sure to set up stories that would lead any potential troublemakers straight into ambushes, and I'd rather not assume these guys are too dumb to think of that. It seems to me like fame and notoriety are your biggest enemies here unless these, "Masters of Fate," can be overwhelmed by group effort or something.

sounds like we need a training montage. like lift some heavy things, practice hand to hand combat, get a real weapon. we may be strong but we can always be stronger and more skilled. meanwhile the masters rest on their laurels, confident in their power.

Jokingly ask if not wearing a bra was part of the hospitality she was taught.

Welp, I don't think the protagonist really needs further instructions now that blood is expanding the capacities of his lower head.

GET DEM TITTIES

King of the Sky Pilots 2015/10/24(Sat)16:37 No. 679131 ID: 00a7e4
File 144572987479.jpg - (143.83KB , 576x576 , MOF021.jpg )

>"Yes, I also think that visiting the home of the amazons would be truly...fortuitous. On the other hand, Clara, you have it pretty good out here. I bet there's nothing I could help you with here." *Blue Steel engaged*

“Yeah, I got a few chores need taken care of,” she says as she unbuttons her shirt and begins to disrobe. Two perfectly formed orbs come into view, firm and supple, capped with small peach colored nipples, erect with desire. Clara walks across the rug, tosses her shirt to the ground, and sits down next to me, her arm hooked around my shoulder and her lips brushing against my ear. “You might be the man to take care of ‘em!”

King of the Sky Pilots 2015/10/24(Sat)16:38 No. 679132 ID: 00a7e4
File 144572991298.jpg - (191.71KB , 576x576 , MOF022.jpg )

Her hand gracefully traced down my chest to grasp the base of my manhood. Watching her exposed breasts jiggle about made me hard as granite, seeing it fully erect was rather terrifying. Certainly bigger than a penis had any right to be, but I was impressed and thrilled none the less. The thing was comically big, but it didn’t stop Clara from her heated efforts to please me. Her hand couldn’t quite fit all the way around, and it threatened to poke her in the eye if she looked at it with intent. Precum dribbled up and flowed down the shaft, coating my girth and wetting her eager fingers. “Fuck…” she whispered under her breath.

Clara looked back to me, her hand still stroking and tugging, and bit her lip while her brow scrunched up with tension. “I’ve seen pictures, and read books, but is a man’s penis really supposed to be that big?” she asks with searching eyes.

Tell her that she actually won the jackpot.

Hopefully the protag will stop being an albino after this if that dash of colour on him is any indication.

well, you don't think so.

actually, it seems to have gotten bigger after you got out of that house.

King of the Sky Pilots 2015/10/24(Sat)18:59 No. 679181 ID: 00a7e4
File 144573838124.jpg - (236.49KB , 576x576 , MOF023.jpg )

>Tell her that she actually won the jackpot.

Clara grins and readjusts herself in front of you, her arms feeling and rubbing about my legs and torso, each gentle touch releasing the tension in your muscles while hardening the girth and length of the fleshy column of meat jutting out like some ugly weapon. Her mouth was too small to fit even the head inside, but that didn’t stop her from coating its length with her tongue, spreading her saliva with the mingling precum, moaning and cooing while her dainty hands slowly worked the flesh up and down. It seems as if she’s had practice at this sort of thing; I wouldn’t be surprised if I found a few dildos in her panty drawer.

The fiery redhead was certainly versed in blowjob theory, but when I reached my climax and shot a fat load of creamy spunk down her throat she choked. A shower of spit and cum sprayed out from her mouth and onto my torso, but she went back to her work unphased. The erection had yet to subside, and she still gripped my package with naughty intent. “God damn, that’s tasty,” she mused, “I thought it would be salty, but you actually taste like a milkshake!” She set about licking up every stray drop between our bodies, and once I was slick and clean Clara smacked her lips and began to straddle me.

King of the Sky Pilots 2015/10/24(Sat)19:01 No. 679184 ID: 00a7e4
File 144573848379.jpg - (153.34KB , 576x576 , MOF024.jpg )

She didn’t beat around the bush. With my cock gripped tightly in one hand, she lowered herself down onto its fat wide head, gushing her own natural lubricants onto the tip. With a bit of mutual effort, she impaled herself by several inches, letting out a sharp cry of both pain and pleasure. It took some time getting used to being stretched so wide and filled so deep, and I noticed a visible bulge along her abdomen. This shouldn’t be working, a woman’s anatomy simply isn’t built to accept a dick this huge, but Clara was bouncing herself up and down none the less.

Her hot velvety interior hugged, gripped and massaged my cock with deliberation. It was a different kind of pleasure, one I’d never experienced in my past life. Watching her tits bounce up and down, I reach out to grasp them with each hand. Clara cried again while I pulled and pinched at her sensitive nipples. In a matter of minutes she plunged into a powerful orgasm that sent tremors through her body, making her convulse in my arms. Once it subsided, she found herself still filled to the womb, and slowly went back to her cowgirl position. “I want you to fill me up,” she says weakly, “bless my womb with your seed, give me a child and I will champion your cause forever!”

Hm. I’ve never really been so keen on having children. I certainly don’t want to raise any. But there aren’t any condoms around, and it’s not like I can just refuse…

Sorry, dood, but it's now expected of you as the only human male. So lie back and think of England.

And it's not like it's a 100% chance she'll get knocked up. The more resistant you are to the idea of being a dad, the more likely it is that you will indeed become one.

King of the Sky Pilots 2015/10/24(Sat)19:42 No. 679195 ID: 00a7e4
File 144574093098.jpg - (169.74KB , 576x576 , MOF025.jpg )

028. Clara and I went at it for about three hours before she called it quits. I could have gone longer, and certainly wanted to, but her pelvis was getting bruised and her pussy had lost all its feeling. I made a mess of her couch, rug and favorite chair, but it was all “worth it” in her mind. She then proceeded to wrap herself up in a blanket and then went on to pass out on the couch. It was satisfying to see a thoroughly pleased woman, especially one so appreciative, but it left me alone and hungry inside a strange house. My stomach rumbles once again, annoyed that it still hasn’t gotten any food. She did mention that she was prepared for my arrival. Perhaps there’s something else besides food I could find around here. But then again, I don’t really want to go snooping about a person’s house uninvited.

I think you earned at least a little bit of snooping.

Acquire foodstuff.

I'm pretty sure she's fine with you poking around. Go for it.

Check open doors, look for larder/pantry/kitchen. If there's nothing prepared make her a sandwich too and bring it to her.