Groundhog Day up on the SubscribeStar

 

"Welcome home, Battler-kun. Why don't you take this and go change?"

Dropping your bags by the front door, you take the white suit from your new house mate, Atropa Everwood, and look it over. It looks to be about your size, surprisingly, and the fabric doesn't feel cheap at all. The stitching on the jacket is nice, hemmed properly, with a wing design on one lapel and golden buttons on the other. Beneath it, you can see a red shirt with a black vest and tie sitting on the hanger.

"Uh, where's your bathroom?" you ask, swallowing nervously.

"Just inside, and make a left. I left your shoes by the door," Atropa replies, watching you with a smirk on her face.

Stepping through the threshold, you shuffle awkwardly towards the restroom and leave your bags behind, careful not to let the suit brush against anything. The house isn't dirty by any means, but there does seem to be a lot of clutter laying about; mostly books and firearms from what you can see before slipping into the lavatory.

Hanging the suit off a hook on the back of the door, you sit on the toilet and take a moment to reflect on how you ended up in the middle of nowhere, playing servant to a woman who owns more guns than the local PD. Well, it was either this or the guy who had a freezer full of fake crab meat and wanted to play with model trains while naked. But surely if you had kept looking, you might have found something else, even a studio apartment somewhere...

"How's it going in there? Everything fit okay?"

A knock at the door snaps you out of your daydream, and you rise to your feet before calling back, "Yeah, it's good! I'm just, uh, folding everything up."

Pulling off your clothes as quickly as you can, you toss them haphazardly on the floor and turn to the white suit hanging off the door, sliding the jacket off to get to the shirt and vest. The hair on your arm stands up as you slide it through the sleeve, you still can't believe you're going through with this. But you need a place to stay, and since you're not paying rent of any kind, playing a little dress up sounds like a great deal. Or at least, it did at the time.

Second thoughts race through your mind as you finish throwing on the suit Atropa apparently hand tailored for you, tightening the tie and pulling up the cross shaped zipper before finally stepping outside.

"How does it look?" you ask, turning slowly to let her inspect it.

"I really did a great job," she murmurs with a crooked smile, "Maybe a bit too tight in the seat?"

Stepping forward, Atropa grabs you by the waist and turns you to face the wall, running her hands up the back of your legs and cupping your behind. 

"A bit snug, but it should be okay... What about the inseam?" 

Muttering to herself, she slides her hand to the inside of your thigh and feels around a bit, her palm pressing up against your balls through the fabric. You do your best to keep still and look straight ahead, but you can't help but let out a quiet gasp when her fingers close around your junk. 

"Not too bad, still a bit of room..." 

You can hear her whispering to herself as she fondles you, and your ears start to sting from embarrassment. Being treated like a piece of meat wasn't something you really expected, and to your horror you can feel yourself start to stir inside your pants. Thankfully, her inspection ends before you start to strain the fabric, and you do your best to hide your reddened face as she pulls away.

"Alright, you're all set. You can drop your bags in the servant's quarters down the hall. Take a few hours to unpack and settle in, but be back before noon to start your shift," Atropa commands, walking away briskly. Stuck in your state of partial arousal, you watch her black skirt sway as she marches off, and catch yourself biting your lip before snapping back to the task at hand.

Dragging your two suitcases into your room, you take a seat on the full size bed and look around. The room itself is surprisingly spacious with a dresser and a desk in the far corners, and a decently sized closet. The walls are sparse in terms of decoration, but maybe she left it that way so you could pick something for yourself.

You spend a few minutes unpacking your belongings and digging through the nooks and crannies of the room before finally lying down on the mattress. The material has some give, so that you sink in a little bit, but it's still really comfortable. You might swap the sheets with something else later, but you could easily fall asleep on it as is.

Checking the clock on the wall, you notice you still have an hour before you have to start working, but it's not like you have anything else to do right now. Might as well get an early start and be done quicker. Stepping out into the hallway, you can already tell where to start. You don't know if they were there when you brought your bags in, but you can clearly see a few books thrown on the floor in a line, as if they were dropped while someone was walking.

Leaning down with a sigh, you pick up each book as you come to it and keep following the trail into the living room. The living area itself has a myriad of clutter, but your first priority is to keep Atropa from tripping and hurting herself. You give each title a glance as you add it to the stack in your arms; most of them seem to be about either magic, witchcraft, or guns. Like a hammer, realization strikes you as you recall her attire, a simple black top and skirt with boots, fingerless gloves, and you think you remember seeing a wide brimmed hat as you came in...

Grabbing the last book off the floor, you notice that it sits in front of a door kept ajar, and you catch a flash of Atropa through the crack.

"Uh, I found some of your books," you call out, knocking lightly on the wooden door.

"Oh, right. Come in, you can set them down anywhere," Atropa replies from inside. 

Stepping into her room, you try not to pry too much but it's hard not to look around at everything. You count at least three guns on various tables, one on the nightstand next to her bed, various woodworking and leatherworking tools, scraps of fabric, and a few tarot card decks. 

"I didn't know you did tarot readings," you comment, placing the stack of books next to her desk.

"Why, you interested?" she asks, placing the piece of leather she was working with onto the table.

"I've never had one before, I'm just a little curious."

"I have some time, take a seat."

Sitting down at the black table, you watch as Atropa takes a deck and clears some space before taking her place across from you.

"Alright, Battler-kun, ask a question." she instructs, a wry smile playing across her lips.

"What do I ask? I'm not really sure how this works." 

"Anything on your mind, but nothing too specific." 

Your thoughts instantly flash back to Atropa's hands touching you as she measured the pants, but that can't really be something the cards can answer, right?

"Hmm... What does the future hold for me here? Is that alright?" you wonder aloud, scratching your head.

"That's fine, just keep thinking that in your head," she replies, beginning to shuffle the cards on the table, splitting them into three separate piles and taking the top card from each. 

"Alright, so we'll start with the past. This card is the seven of cups," Atropa explains, flipping the first card face up, "This card represents the various choices you may have had."

"How far in the past are we talking? Because if it has to do with how I ended up here, it wasn't that much of a choice at all," you mutter, thinking back to how every other listing never ended up replying.

"Since your question is regarding your future here, it wouldn't be too far at all," Atropa smiles, turning over the second card, "This card in the present is the seven of swords. It represents betrayal, a possible nefarious plot by somebody close to you."

"Uh huh..."

"And now the last card, your future. This one is the queen of swords, but reversed. It represents a new woman in your life, someone strong and regal, but maybe a bit domineering."

"So my future is with this woman?" you ask, wondering if Atropa means herself.

"Who can say? I can only speak for the cards as they're laid out, any further meaning they might have on your life is for you to decide," she replies, folding the cards back into the deck and grinning mischievously. 

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