The Final Saga of Macha the Ever-Virgin: Extra Large Heresy
 | This article contains PROMOTIONS! Don't say we didn't warn you. |
Seriously, if you're against the extra heresy that is Macha being de-virginized, leave now. Else, if you're the kind of sick fuck who likes that sort of thing, stick around to read about an Acolyte's pelvis being destroyed.
Heresy Below
Acolyte Virtanen felt conflicted: not so much about his orders, but rather his current interpretation of them. Inquisitor Cheng was very clear that while his Acolytes were serving their probationary time as individual operatives, they were to locate and secure any xenotech or even actual xenos that could become an asset to the Ordo Xenos Hybris. More than anything, Virtanen longed to find something useful enough to distinguish himself to his mentor.
Throne, this was more than he bargained for.
The young Acolyte waved in the general direction of the hotel concierge as he passed, not even bothering to look up. This sort of luxury usually wasn't his style, but he had to admit he could see why rich traders and government officials usually went in for it: such ostentatious display of wealth. An elevator was waiting to whisk him up a hundred floors into the sky, where he walked down the hall to a gilded lift that carried him another fifty floors, practically to the top of the Spire.
Where the opulence of the lobby below had merely been dismaying, the penthouse suite itself was positively obscene. The double-layered, reinforced glass reduced the terrific windshear that whipped up in the evenings to a whisper, all while affording a hundred-and-eighty degree view of the hive spire. From up here the buildings caught the fading light like giant hunks of crystal. It was so stunning that Virtanen momentarily forgot the millions living in destitute poverty so many thousands of feet below him.
He'd also forgotten what was waiting for him in the sitting room.
“Farseer,” he moaned, “what in the Emperor's holy name is THAT supposed to be? And how the hell did you even GET it?”
Somehow, the xeno witch he'd only recently captured had managed to obtain a silky set of lingirie, which she was now wearing for reasons that utterly escaped the Acolyte. “Are you not excited?” she asked in a tone more appropriate to an inquiry about the weather than a sultry come-on. “I selected them because they seemed most likely to appeal to a mon'keigh's baser instincts. Are they not effective?” Virtanen allowed himself to run his eyes over the Farseer. The way the little white silk negligee and emerald-green lowleg underwear exposed the smooth, toned expanse of her stomach, the way the swell of her chest was only just obscured behind a pale veil, the way her shockingly red hair spilled carelessly across her bare shoulders... Macha had to smile as the man's eyes lingered exactly three and a half seconds before he seemed to catch himself.
“That's not the point,” he eventually muttered, his discomfort apparent. “You're not SUPPOSED to look attractive.” Then glancing away and finding a small box sitting on the table, he grimaced. “And you're DEFINITELY not supposed to spend official Inquisitorial funds to do it.”
Macha sighed and allowed her hips to slide gently to one side, turning with a fluid grace unmatched by any human to show off the profile of her backside. “I had hoped this would make our time spent in further pointless interrogations less unpleasant.”
“Well, that was going to happen anyway,” Virtanen mused. “I think I've got any intelligence value out of you already.”
“Oh?”
Virtanen showed her a bottle of amasec he had picked up while he was out. “You've got no ship, no army, and no weapons. All you've got is a story that checks out with the reports I've read from the Blood Ravens. So, I'd like to ask you a few personal questions to try and get a feel for your personality. Then I can put any other intelligence in a proper context.”
“Businesslike, as usual.” Macha settled gracefully into a soft chair, and crossed one long, slender leg over the other. “What do you wish to know, mon'keigh?”
The man handed her a glass, and switched on a small audio recording device. “How long have you been a Farseer?” The question gave Macha pause: she had to contemplate her answer for a moment, as if she were almost unsure herself.
“I had hardly come of age when I started on the Path of the Seer. It has been many centuries.” She sniffed at the amber liquer in her tumbler, then took a first tentative sip. Then she took a larger one. Virtanen watched the fine amasec slide down her throat, and found his gaze lingering again.
“And how are Farseers treated in eldar society?” Again, Macha gave her interrogator a vaguely puzzled look.
“Why is that important?”
“We don't do interviews very often.”
Macha sighed again. “I see. Very well. Farseers are looked to as leaders, of course you knew that much.” She looked up to Virtanen, and saw him nod silently. “However, there is a tendency to treat us as abnormal.”
Virtanen's eyebrow went up, and she could see his interest had been piqued. “How so?”
“It is almost as if they forget sometimes that we eat, drink, and sleep just the same as they do. That we have... needs.” The Farseer's face betrayed a hint of emotion, recognizable despite her alien mind. That last sentence had made her uncomfortable, and she was afraid the Acolyte picked up on it.
“What do you mean?” he asked cautiously. “Regular needs, or extraordinary?”
“Do you find me attractive?” she countered, seemingly from nowhere. She leaned forward towards Virtanen, and the shift in her center of balance drew his eyes like a magnet towards her swaying chest.
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything!” Macha insisted in a mounting tone of aggravation. “Do you have any idea how long it has been since I last spent the night with a man?”
“Ummm... long lived species... busy work schedule... a year or two?” Virtanen asked, clearly guessing.
“It was a trick question, NEVER!” The Farseer was on her feet now, hands resting on the armrests of Virtanen's chair. “I have been a virgin for for longer than you have lived! BY ORDERS OF MAGNITUDE!”
“... I'm sorry?” the Acolyte offered.
“Oh SURE,” she snapped, “the noble mon'keigh taking pity on the poor undersexed eldar. What a joke!” Her face was now far too close to the Acolyte's for his comfort, but if she noticed she made no sign of it. “Your kind are half the problem! No eldar will touch me, because I am a Farseer and they have no idea that Farseers have sexual urges, and doubt me when I tell them! But you humans? Isha's TEARS you can be even worse!”
“Yeah, how exactly are we worse, Miss High-and-Mighty Farseer?” Virtanen spat, finally deciding to take a stand and planting his forehead obstinately against hers. “Oh, preach me a fucking sermon!”
“You are WORSE,” Macha shouted, gesturing wildly with her hands without backing out of the human's face for even an instant, “because of your GODS-DAMNED IGNORANCE! You seem to think that if any eldar even so much as IMPLIES they are enjoying themselves a daemonette will spontaneously explode from their anus! And do not START about your Astartes!”
“WHAT'S WRONG WITH THEM!?” the Acolyte shouted back. “They don't even have balls, do they?”
“I could tell you if that GODS-DAMNED GABRIEL would have occasionally SHUT HIS FUCKING MOUTH AND LISTENED TO ME!” Macha's long hair whirled as she jumped atop the glass table standing in the middle of the room, an impossibly graceful leap that covered far more distance than a regular human could hope to cross, and her voice immediately dropped into a gravelly impersonation of the Blood Ravens leader.
“LOOK AT ME, I AM A SPESS MUHRREEN!” She grunted loudly, swinging an imaginary sword with wild and deliberately clumsy abandon. Every movement made her hair fly about her body and her breasts jiggle from the exertion. “I am a mindless retard! I do not care if the nice eldar lady who can see the future told me that tampering with this daemonic artifact will doom us all, I think I will hit it with a huge hammer! BECAUSE THAT SEEMS LIKE A GREAT IDEA THAT WILL NOT COME BACK TO BITE US IN THE ASS AT ALL! NOPE! NOT ONE GODS-DAMNED BIT!”
“Look, it's not OUR fault. You pointy-eared bastards can't flush a toilet without relying on cryptic metaphors and double-meanings!” Virtanen stood to face the xeno witch, and Macha jumped down from the table, landing lightly on her bare feet mere inches from him. The tension in the room was palpable as they stared each other down.
“If ignorance could be used for armor, you humans would be invincible,” she growled.
“If arrogance could be weaponized,” Virtanen hissed, “you eldar could destroy the whole fucking galaxy with it.”
For a moment both continued to stare each other down, each fuming in their anger. Then, in an impossible movement, Macha propelled herself at the Acolyte, using her entire body to tackle him to the floor. And before he could react, while she pinned his shoulders to the ground with her hands and straddled him between her bare thighs, she did the unthinkable.
She lowered her head, and their lips met in the most passionate kiss either had ever shared. Her crimson hair fell around their faces as the shock gradually faded from Virtanen's eyes, and they both lingered for what seemed like hours, but in truth could have as easily been days or weeks. Even as they parted, her taste was still on his lips. The man looked at the Farseer, confusion clearly etched into his face.
“... you're nuts.” he concluded.
“Shut up.”
They shared a second kiss, one which was somehow more passionate even than the last, and which lasted longer. Macha felt the human's rough hands caressing the sensitive skin along her sides, and responded by biting gently at Virtanen's lower lip as they separated once more. Her thighs squeezed his sides, silently urging him to continue. But he would have none of it.
Instead he rolled her off him, and rolled atop her, one hand going for his fly. Seeing this, Macha's legs lashed out, squeezing him between her thighs once more like a vice. She then wrapped her ankles around behind him and drove herself as close as she could, pinning his wrist in place against her crotch and pulling her body up as her arms went around his neck.
“Not yet, fucker,” she growled into Virtanen's ear as he tried in vain to free his hand.
“The hell are you doing, crazy xeno bitch? And who the hell taught you the word “fucker” anyway?”
“You are not. DONE. YET!” she insisted, her voice building into a roar. “YOU HAVEN'T DONE IT PROPERLY!”
“WARP DAMN IT!” he shouted back at her, “WHAT IS IT NOW!”
“Ears,” Macha insisted.
“Huh?”
The eldar shook her head in uncomprehending dismay at the human's ignorance. “My ears,” she repeated. “You haven't even touched them yet. Do it.”
Virtanen's jaw hung slack for a second as he processed the demand. “Your ears are an erogenous zone?”
“I would not ask you otherwise, foolish little mon'keigh. Of COURSE they are,” she snapped, as if every sentient being in the galaxy should know it, and by not knowing it too Virtanen had somehow viciously insulted her.
“If you wanted it, you should have SAID something. Like this?” the Acolyte asked as he began to stroke her ears softly, tracing the edges and producing a soft moan.
But it wasn't enough for Macha. “More firmly,” she insisted. “They will not snap off.”
“Complain, complain,” Virtanen mumbled as he grew bolder and more forceful with his partner's lobes, producing increasingly frantic moans and a rhythmic swaying in her hips as she ground against him.
“Damned clumsy human,” she groaned
“Well, sorry I'm not a limp-wristed eldar...”
“I like it,” Macha interrupted before sighing in apparent satisfaction. “I like it a lot.” Taking it as a sign, Virtanen eased in and bit down lightly on the eldar's other ear, producing a tiny yelp of surprise that quickly melted into an intense moan of ecstasy as he began to twist and turn his trapped wrist between her thighs. After a few moments, he felt a damp warmth that could not have been just sweat against his arm.
“NOW are you satisfied, xeno scum?” Virtanen snapped, feeling more than a bit smug at having gotten the proud eldar so hot and bothered.
He received a vicious headbutt for his trouble, and reeled backwards in pain and surprise, clutching his jaw.
“SAY MY NAME!” Macha bellowed, flipping upright and pouncing on the Acolyte like a wild gyrinx.
“The FUC-”
“Say.” She pinned him once more beneath her body.
“My.” She ripped away his shirt with her bare hands, sending stray buttons flying across the carpet.
“NAME.” With that final pronouncement she slammed him down, golden eyes shining with a feral intensity.
The human merely frowned. “You say mine,” he insisted quietly.
“I asked you first, little one.”
Virtanen's frown eased into a manic grin. “Fair enough... Macha.”
“Very good, Leon,” she cooed as she reached down to slide her smooth fingers into the front of his pants, gently teasing them past his now-aching package and along his thighs behind her. “Nothing will deny me this now,” she muttered.
Virtanen looked worried for a moment, having heard her words and not understood. “Meaning what, Macha? You talking, cryptic, human not following? Remember that bit earlier?”
“This is usually when it happens,” she explained vaguely as she lifted one leg to slide her panties off around her foot, exposing her hairless, virginal mound. “A planet-wide plague, Craftworld-wide military mobilization, an encounter with what I believe your people call a “space hulk”. This is as far as I have ever gotten because of interruptions like those, and even those cases are rare.”
“Did you get this far with Chapter Master Angelos?” Virtanen asked cautiously. Macha laughed hard enough that she stopped bothering to get her panties off the other leg.
“Of course not, fool,” she said once she had finished laughing, having apparently decided that having her panties off one leg was good enough. “He was what we would call,” an eldar word Virtanen did not know. “It translates literally to “empty wraithbone”, but is about the same as celibate.” The eldar then looked down and smirked. “Luckily your “wraithbone” seems plenty full.” Then, just as suddenly as she had laughed, her face turned stern as she glared dangerously at him.
“If you try to pull out, by the blade of Kaela Mensha Khaine I WILL kill you with my fucking MIND,” Macha warned as she guided him to the rim of her yet-unexplored depths. She slowly lowered her weight onto him as his piece pushed past her labia, and she let out a whimper as her maidenhood tore to accommodate its gradual ingress. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she felt his torso against her thighs, his entire length snugly fitted inside her.
Virtanen felt a warm trickle, and looked down to see a small but noticeable amount of blood around his base. Macha's virginity, her constant companion for Emperor only knows how many years, had finally been banished like a daemon back to the Warp. Having noticed her wince, and seeing that the pain had not quite subsided, the Acolyte grinned.
“I guess you were right,” he conceded.
“... about what?”
His grin widened. “No surprise anus daemons.”
The joke earned him a smack on the top of his head. “Of course not,” she scolded. “Though it hurt more than I expected.”
“Are you okay? Should we maybe take a break...” but he never got the chance to finish the sentence. Macha planted her hands on either side of Virtanen's shoulders, raised her ass up off of him and exposing his shaft dripping with her blood and juice, and thrust him back into her. Then again, with more brutal force. Then a third time. With each thrust she grunted from exertion, and between them her breathing grew shallower and faster.
Below her Virtanen thrust upward violently, ramming himself home as deep into her amazingly tight cunt as he could on each stroke, savoring as Macha's groans gradually gave way to cries, which in turn grew to frantic shouts as her breath came it ragged gasps, her previous pain forgotten.
“I WILL NOT BE DENIED!” she screamed aloud over the sound of their bodies slamming together. “THIS MOMENT IS MINE!” Viratnen briefly wondered who Macha was screaming at so fervently, but pushed those thoughts out of his mind as his own feelings of pleasure began to overwhelm him. He grabbed hold of Macha's shapely ass and guided her frantic motions, each meeting of their bodies sounding in thunderous rhythm.
“THEN TAKE IT YOU CRAZY BITCH!” the Acolyte roared as he felt himself burst deep inside Macha's darkest depths, thrusting again and again as he filled her with his warmth. Above him the eldar loosed a wordless banshee's wail as she climaxed, her first orgasm from being fucked hard spreading through every inch of her body like a wildfire, causing her back to arch madly as her hair swept around behind her. The wail continued as she shuddered and spasmed, still grinding her hips into Virtanen's member until her inhumanly long climax finally started to subside.
“Whaddareyoudoin...” Macha slurred drunkenly as Virtanen pulled out of her, allowing his seed to flow freely onto the floor. “Leon... I wannedta... don go...”
“I'm not leaving, idiot. I'm not satisfied yet.” Without another word, Virtanen hauled the eldar to her feet and laid her on her stomach across the glass table. “Let's try something else.”
Caressing her bare ass, Virtanen spread Macha a bit wider, provoking a confused but still ecstatic moan. “What...” she muttered as he poured a shot of amasec between her cheeks, working around the rim of her hole with his fingers. “What are you doing?” she asked, her concern obviously mounting.
“Getting you ready.” She had only a moment's warning as she felt the tip of his cock, still stubbornly hard, press against her puckered asshole. “EMPEROR GUIDE MY COCK!” he shouted.
“WAIT, WRONG HOLE!” Macha cried as a slow but unyielding thrust pushed Virtanen deep into her anus, stretching the orifice to a slightly painful degree as he drove forward.
“FUCKER! WHO SAID YOU COU... YOU COULD...”
But as Virtanen rammed himself in again, the feeling of her tight ass being spread by his warm, throbbing member surprised her. With a soft “oh, Isha!”, her anger subsided. Each thrust sent waves of sensation through her body, and her mind was lost once more in a fog of delirious, blissful ecstasy.
“You are still a bastard...” she moaned, feeling his first load slowly dribbling down her thighs as he pounded her backdoor. “I am a Farseer... show... some... fucking... RESPECT!” But she hadn't come down from her first orgasm yet, and having her human lover ravage her like this so soon afterward had her nearly breathless already. And Virtanen knew it.
“And YOU need to LET someone ELSE take over ONCE in a WHILE!” he insisted, grunting with each thrust as he picked up the pace. For her part, Macha's only response was a loud, distinctly undignified moan as the Acolyte began to slowly work her ears once more.
“Uuuuhhhhhhaaaahhhhahahhahaha....” Macha insisted as she gradually lost the capacity for rational thought.
“What was that?” Virtanen asked, struggling to form words for his panting.
“You... good... aaaaahhhh...” she clarified. “Ears... GOOD... YEEEEESSSSS!!!” And for the second time, the Farseer was brought to a screaming orgasm. But this time she couldn't even register her satisfaction with her partner: instead she simply lay on the cold table, quivering and shuddering as he filled her ass the same way he filled her pussy.
Virtanen slumped backwards until he found the couch and collapsed onto it, exhausted, watching Macha tremble and ooze onto the floor from both holes... he'd made quite a mess. What would Inquisitor Cheng think, he wondered? Lose his shit? Congratulate him? Take a few holopics? Yeah, Cheng could be a sleazebag alright, so it would probably be a mix of all three. Fuck that guy.
