Dranon's delight XIII

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Small Book.pngThe following article is a /tg/ related story or fanfic. Should you continue, expect to find tl;dr and an occasional amount of awesome.
Commissar.gif This article or section is EXTRA heretical. Prepare to be purged.
PROMOTIONS-small.pngThis article contains PROMOTIONS! Don't say we didn't warn you.

In a dark room, lit only by the red-glowing skulls of fallen berserkers, a black-haired woman stood with her arms suspended by chains dug into the stone wall, unconscious and limp. She wore boots and standard-issue Imperial Guard trousers, but her midriff was entirely bare, her chest covered by only a black brassiere that seemed just a few sizes too small for her massive jugs, the soft, elastic fabric clinging skintight to their curvature. She was beautiful and voluptuous, her hips wide to match her upper curves, with only a hint of toned strength to her muscles – unusual for a soldier. A small tag on her belt had her name and rank: Pvt. Jubblowski.

The sound of something big and metal smashing into the floor snapped her to consciousness, gasping quietly as the shock of awareness rushed through her, cracking her eyes open ever so slightly. The first thing she saw was the lifeless skeleton laying before her. The next thing she saw was the armored heel smashing its skull, a massive ceramite-composite sabaton engraved with profane sigils and the stains of the blood of fallen heroes. Her nose started to work again, and the pure stench of death emanating from the gargantuan figure standing before her nearly forced a dry heave from her empty gut.

Jubblowski’s wrists were bound painfully tight above her head, and her arms were numb. Her feet only barely reached the ground, only permitting her to keep the weight off her sore arms. She was trapped. With no choice, she remained limp, shutting her eyes and steadying her breath. There was a brief shock of static at her chin, and her head jerked out of reflex. A sinister growling chortle echoed through the large concrete room. “At least face your doom with dignity, Imperial sow.”

She opened her eyes and saw the barrel of the plasma pistol poised at her chin, just the mere proximity causing all the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up as the electromagnetic containment field pulsed excess energy around her. When she raised her head to look at the one holding it, she was met with the face of a Chaos Space Marine, ravaged with hoary scars of a thousand battles, or exposure to the Warp, or both. Eyes of obsidian glared into her very soul, and all her nerves screamed in mortal terror. With all her strength she wrenched her frame, yanking at the chains that bound her, sending one swift kick up between his immense armored thighs in some pathetic attempt to wound him where it counted. All she got was a very sore shin.

“Hhgehehe,” the ancient warrior chuckled in amusement at her foolish struggle. “Tell me what you know, and your death will be swift.” His very words seemed to carry just as much sheer, crushing weight as his body, and the woman ceased fighting, staring up at him. Then, she averted her gaze, gritting her teeth even as she shook with adrenaline and fear.

“So be it. I doubt you know anything worthwhile anyways,” he said, lowering the mouth of his pistol to her chest, pressing the barrel against her tremendous left tit, which bulged around the pressure, softer than clouds. She breathed in a sharp hiss, cheeks flushing red as the static discharges bouncing over her breast forcing her to writhe with the slight, but intense jabs of sensation. He pulled his gun away, the last little jolt streaking right to her nipple, which hardened at the stimulation, poking out through her flimsy top.

His armored finger tightened around the trigger, but then he paused, glancing up at the ceiling and muttering to himself. He dragged one of his hands down his face, and sputtered his lips. “What the hell am I doing with my life?” He glanced down at his gun, leveled it at a nearby wall, and fired, blasting a large superheated hole in the reinforced rockrete and forcing Jubblowski to flinch as convection heat washed over her face and neck.

But then he sighed, snorted loudly, and shoved a noxious-smelling cigar in his mouth and lit it with the red-hot fumes smoking from the tip of his pistol. “Ach, the cultists can have their fun with you for all I care.” Dranon turned and stomped out of the room, his footfalls echoing down the subterranean tunnel until finally vanishing. She waited for a few minutes, hearing nothing further, and then wrenched her body against her chains, trying to either pry them out of the wall, or slip her wrists free. But they held strong and tight, and she was thoroughly trapped.


It was not long until the dark-haired woman heard the sound of a distant voice, singing something. It was not particularly pleasant sounding, as the singer seemed possessed of what was possibly the single most horrifically squeaky, wheezy voice she had ever heard. Worse, it was singing at such a high pitch that the voice kept cracking. “Hwee are the chuhampeeons, hwee are the chuhampeeons!” it went, over and over again, as if repeating just two lines of some song. She was not sure whether she should feel fear or annoyance even as it came nearer and nearer, the singer herself eventually appearing through the doorway.

She was a wretched girl, her body small and lean, likely from a lifetime of malnutrition. Her hair was ratty, probably washed so rarely. Her skin was a strange shade of olive, betraying a heritage of peasantry, and her pearly teeth were as crooked as a priest of the Ecclesiarchy. She wore little beyond some tattered rags tied to her arms and legs, and a tight little black thong that seemed not to fit with the rest of her attire – likely a fresh prize from the battlefield. Her chest was fully bared to all, her modest but cute and round bosoms capped by adorable nipples. Jagged metal spikes arose from under the skin of her shoulder as if dug into the bone, and the four marks of her dark gods were tattooed upon her in varying places.

The instant the strange heretic saw Jubblowski, her eyes widened in surprise. “Captive?” she mumbled. Then her gaping mouth turned into a big dumb grin. “Captive!” She threw out her arms and charged right at the private, who watched in shock and confusion as the short girl collided face-first with her heaving cleavage. Arms wrapped around Jubblowski’s torso, and the cultist just stayed like that, hugging her tightly. Though at first Jubblowski was intensely uncomfortable at the proximity of her enemy and her handsy touches, she found it difficult to deny the intrinsic comfort of her body heat in the cold air and her unfortunate state of dress.

After rubbing her face up against those fleshy pillows for a little while, the heretic pulled her sticky, greasy body back briefly, staring at the private’s chest at point blank. “Nhhice tiddies!” she wheezed, as if only just coming to the realization herself. She glanced up at the beautiful private, who stared down at her with a face of alarmed concern – and a bit of a blush. “Naaame?”

“I… won’t talk…” Jubblowski said haltingly, clearly nonplussed.

“Hwee’re Cultist!” the shady-skinned girl said, pointing at herself and standing on her tip-toes, her breath reaching the soldier’s face and causing her to turn away from the bad smell.

“That’s… not a name?”

“Hwee haff no name! Ooh, ees this hyoor name?” she asked, spotting the nametag on her belt and tearing it off to hold it up closely to her eyes, squinting. “Puh-vii-tuh-dot. Puvita? Hyoo-blow-sky. Ski? Me? Hyoo blow me? Ah! Are hyoo a porn star?”

“No!” Jubblowski said, feeling strangely affronted by the accusation. “I’m a morale officer for the Commissariat! But that’s all I’m cleared to say!”

“Moral awfficer?”

“You know, I do pin-ups and propaganda and shows for the men… and women…”

“Hyoor nawt a real soldjer?”

“I am too! I… simply… don’t see the frontlines very often! My role takes priority. The Imperial War Engine is a well-oiled machine, and it needs every cog where it belongs!”

Cultist licked her lips deductively and squinted up at her captive suspiciously. “Sooo… Hyoo-blow-sky eesn’t hyoor name?”

“Of course it is!” the trooper yelled in frustration.

“Eet sounds sooo weird, though.”

“Weird?! The Jubblowskis have been proudly serving in the Navy and Guard for almost ten millennia! We are a clan of immensely decorated soldiers – er – I will say no more!”

“Hyoo said a lot, though.”

“Shut up! Go away! Or torture me, or whatever it is you’re here for! I will not break!” Jubblowski said, turning her head away angrily.

The heretic girl blinked up at the voluptuous woman, unfazed by the outburst. With a completely blank expression, her hands slowly released her hold around Jubblowski. The trooper thought she was going to be left alone, and glanced back to see Cultist’s empty stare, which concerned her. She watched, hairs standing up on her neck, as Cultist’s face slowly morphed to a devilish smile. Pure horror shot up her spine as she sensed doom. And then she felt the fingers suddenly dive into her armpits, and she stifled a reflexive giggle. Her terror multiplied. “No! Don’t you dare! Heh – no! Do not! I will – pffft! Noo! Please!”

But the Cultist could not be denied. With childlike glee and masterful skill, her fingertips swarmed all the most sensitive places under the private’s arms, forcing great, shuddering laughs out of her in just a few strokes. “Haaahaahaahahahahaha!” she bellowed, throwing her head back and twisting around in futile resistance. Her bosoms bounced and jiggled with the tosses of her body and her heaving laughs, barely confined at all by her elastic top.

“Soooo sensitive! Hyoo should smile more!” Cultist giggled like a child as she ran her fingers up and down Jubblowski’s sides. “Cahm on, no wan can rheseezt their bodieez!”

The guardswoman did everything in her power not to give the heretic satisfaction, but it was a futile battle. The girl’s lips went to press against her belly button, blowing raspberries and squeezing scores more strained laughs out of her. Her body reacted to each and every little touch, and it was not long until her nipples poked out proudly through her bra again, still tingly from the static jolts of earlier. This development did not go unnoticed; the Cultist’s eyes practically bulged out at the sight of it, and her strokes rapidly went from tickling to smooth, slow, tender all along the private’s exposed skin.

“Hwee see hyoo enjoy being tied awp and toyed wiff,” she said in a much more sultry tone, but the private was too busy panting, sweating, catching her breath to notice. As she came down from the downright painful laughing into just the occasional giggle, the heretic hands wrapped around and squeezed her bare waist sensuously. She licked the guardswoman’s belly gently, lapping at her like a hungry wolf as she stared up into her face. Jubblowski slowly realized what was going on, and, gawking at the Cultist below her mountainous breasts, squirmed against her.

“Hey, stop that,” the Imperial girl protested with flushed cheeks, but the Cultist ignored her and traced wet smooches down her pelvis to her belt, fingers moving to slowly unbuckle it. “Hey, no!”

But the heretic had no intentions of obeying, and soon the groxhide belt was whipped right out of all the loops of her pants. Those fiendish digits soon attacked her pants themselves, wrangling the button out of its slot only for Jubblowski to desperately wrap her legs around the Cultist and pull her in against her to make continuing to undress her impossible. The Cultist stood up a little, her head rising up to nestle between her monumental mammaries. “Hyoo are sooo frisky! Jhust let us get theez pants off hyoo…”

“No! The pants stay on!” Jubblowski yelled down at her.

“Ooooh. Okhay,” Cultist said with a toothy grin, instead moving her hands up behind the guardswoman until they found the straps of her elastic top, locked together with a metal clasp.

“No no no! My bra stays on too!” Jubblowski said, but the ratty girl writhing against her was far too busy attempting to solve the clasp to pay her any attention.

“What kind of clasp eez theez?” Cultist said, growing increasingly frustrated with the difficulty of undoing it. “Dho I haff to call the heretek?”

“It’s an Amazon Combat Harness Mk. III! Munitorum standard issue! One size fits all! Designed to endure the harshest battlefield conditions!”

“Eet does naht fit you, though,” the heretic noted.

“It fits me just fine! I am not going to be the first woman of my lineage to complain about my uniform and get reprimanded for it!” Jubblowski said in a tone of strict pride.

Cultist fiddled with the metal prongs a little longer before she froze, finally understanding the shape she felt. “Ees… ees this an awkwila? Whaat? Why? That’s not practikhal.”

Jubblowski growled loudly at the heretic’s lies. “The Emperor protects!”

Of course, the moment she said that, the bizarre clasp was finally twisted and pulled in the right way to detach. The Cultist let out a triumphant cackle and ripped the bra right off the poor Imperial, tossing it away and baring her beautiful peaks, heavy and round, capped by puffy pink nipples that stood stiff right in front of the girl’s eyes.

“Nooo!” Jubblowski yelled, struggling freshly against the chains around her wrists, but she had no power to stop the march of the heretic’s fingers as they moved up to cup and lift her bountiful breasts high, much too big to fit in her small hands that sank deep into her pale and tender flesh. Her protests were silenced when the Cultist stood up on her tip-toes and pecked a quick smooch on her lips, stunning Jubblowski as the blush on her cheeks grew a few shades deeper.

“I—” Jubblowski tried to say, only for the girl to kiss her again, this time keeping their lips together for just a second before breaking away. “You—” Smooch. The Cultist pressed her mouth hard against the guardswoman’s, and remained like that for several moments as her hands caressed her sumptuous curves on their way down to sneak under her pants and squeeze her rump. Jubblowski shivered against the invader, and, when she felt her buns being so gently played with, tightened her legs around the sticky and warm little body, an itch growing in her core, the sensation of hot moisture building in her pants.

Cultist was not expecting the tongue that pushed into her mouth, sliding on top of her own pink muscle with slow, delicate movement, like a curious animal toeing its way into new territory. Cultist opened her eyes, and saw Jubblowski’s staring back at her from an angle, and both watched the other in fascination until at last Cultist pulled away, breaking into a pant to catch her breath, each exhale washing hot air over the guardswoman’s neck.

“Hyoo—” the heretic began to say, but she was silenced when Jubblowski leaned in and wrapped her lips around her mouth tightly. Her fingers underneath the voluptuous woman’s trousers dug furiously into her soft cheeks until they left red marks, and in response, Jubblowski moaned pleasantly right into Cultist’s lips, rolled her hips forward and upward, grinding hard into the girl. Their tongues met again, and this time the Chaos-aligned muscle won the initial skirmish and penetrated the pious woman’s defenses to invade and lather over the roof of her mouth, where she was so sensitive she squirmed in protest.

Groping, kneading as Jubblowski’s pants slowly fell down betwixt all their passionate movements, tightening and kissing, they breathlessly relished in each other’s heat and passion and the growing gooey electricity between their legs. Only after several minutes of this did Jubblowski’s legs finally fall from their vicelike embrace of the heretic, and the girl in turn unlatched her victorious mouth and slipped her tongue out to lick up the proud woman’s face as she panted with a happy little smile and blush.

“Hyoo luve kisses, huh?” Cultist said as she lapped at the corner of Jubblowski’s mouth like a dog and ran her muscle down under her chin, scoring sensitive whimpers out of her. “Hwee luve kisses too!”

“The-the Commissar never kisses me,” Jubblowski explained shamefully. “Oh, no. I shouldn’t have said that,” she said, gasping for air as her mouth felt all coppery with the girl licking her.

“Do hyoo like the Cahmmissawr?” Cultist asked innocently, her hands moving to tug off the combat boots and bare the guardswoman’s socks.

“We have a… lot of casual sex,” the busty guardswoman said. “He says it’s all for the Emperor, and that’s nice and all, but he’s just using me for lewd things…”

“But hyoo want moar?” The girl began to slowly pull down her pants the rest of the way, slipping one leg off and then the other, and discarding them completely.

“I would like a steady man, yeah,” Jubblowski said, staring distantly at the wall as the heretic knelt down and examined her dark panties with a small golden aquila cresting them. “The sex is great, don’t get me wrong, but I need… someone to cuddle with. The Emperor may have made me with a… strong libido, but he also made me with a romantic heart.”

“Cawddlez? Where haff hwee heard that nayme before…? Hweren’t hwee keeled by Cawddlez a few times?” Cultist wheezed inquisitively as she leaned in and sniffed at the hot moisture soaking through the crotch of her Imperial panties. “Hyoo should tell him how hyoo feel!”

“I want to, but I don’t want to ruin our relationship… he’s my superior officer… screwing from time to time is fine, but lovers is something different. For one thing it’s against all the regulations of the Guard and Commissariat and could get us court-martialed.”

“Pff, roolz schmoolz. Jyust defect to Khay-ozz! Hwee haff no roolz!” Cultist said, giggling as she rose up and buried her face between her beautiful bosoms and nuzzled against them, enjoying their softness tenderly as she smiled up at the woman sweetly.

“Oh, here we go,” Jubblowski sighed. “You just had to ruin the mood.”

“Whaat?”

“You and I both know you were going to start this. First it’s a cuddly ‘join us!’ and then you’ll molest me and when that doesn’t work, you’ll bring in your cultist buddies who will drive their big, throbbing dicks into my holes and stir me all up until my insides are sore. Then you’ll probably drug me with something that amplifies all my senses by a thousand times, throw me into a daemon tentacle pit, give me to some fat and ugly Plaguebearers to degrade me by making me ride their fat daemon cocks, and by then I’ll lose my mind and become such a cock-craving whore I won’t be able to resist joining your cause just to get regular fuckings from all your friends.”

Cultist’s salacious toying with the woman paused, and she raised an eyebrow of confusion. “Okhay, are hyoo sure hyoo aren’t a porn star?”

“That’s what the Commissar told me would happen if I ever got captured!” Jubblowski said. “You Chaos types are all just in it to torture and break beautiful women like me!”

Cultist raised a finger, her expression falling into an unamused frown. “Excuse hwee? Hwee are overthrowing a khorrupt, eevil instit-instit-instusion that cruelly enslaves eets popu-populice to please owhr dark gads. Rahping and breaking beyutifahl women ees merely for fun.”

“Hah! So you admit it!” Jubblowski yelled, and the girl seized her left tit and squeezed it tightly until she yelped in discomfort and squirmed and moaned.

“Stahp hyoor whining. Hyoo clearly luve it.”

“You’ll never break me, heretic!” the guardswoman bravely said.

Cultist, without breaking eye contact with the beauty, reached her hand down her panties and pinched her stiff, fleshy nub—Jubblowski’s eyes widened and her legs shook as she let out a cry of annoyed pleasure.

“Oww!”

“Hyoo whant hrape so badlee? Hyoo can haff eet. Hyoo won’t last thirty minutes,” Cultist said with a husky grin, withdrawing her hand that was slick with fresh fluids and licking her fingers clean as Jubblowski watched. “Ohh, Proletar!” she called. But no answer came. “Proletar! Proletar! Get een here hyoo yooseless sloot!”

“I’m bUsY!” came the wavering reply from down the hall.

“Hwee haff a hawt khaptive!”

“Th-THESE corPSES won’t CoOK themSElves!”

“Hyoo never want to haff fun! Lheeve a little!”

Jubblowski’s eyebrow raised as she listened, growing increasingly confused and concerned. “Hey, who is Proletar?” she asked Cultist.

“Proletar ees a myutant!” the girl shouted, waving her arms with excitement.

“P-plEASE be KInd to mE!” he called down the hallway.

“Hee has a jyant myutant peenis!”

“N-NO mORE j-J-jokes, puh-pLEase! I’ll COme oVER!”

“Please don’t rape me with a mutant penis,” Jubblowski said in a defeated tone. “I’d much rather normal penises.”

The clanking of something metal against the rockcrete floors echoed into the room, slowly nearing. The all-too-familiar noise almost had Jubblowski shivering in terror, but she realized it was offset against the stomping of a foot, alternating like a limp. When the mutant finally stepped in through the doorway, her fear was instantly replaced by instinctual revulsion.

“Oh, by the Throne,” the guardswoman mumbled as she stared in shock.

Proletar was of average height, but only because he was so terribly hunched of back. His deathly pale flesh was chunky, uneven, covered in thick purple veins that seemed to constantly pulse. He was swollen with fat and muscle and bizarre growths under the skin that could only be tumors, making any sort of clothing except the long cloak wrapped around his bulbous shoulders impossible. He did not seem to have a neck, as his neck was completely grown out to a hideous level of flubbery, wrinkled flesh. But his face was the worst of all, with his left eye completely eclipsed by some sort of fatty tumor that also stretched down and dragged up the corner of his lips so much that his uneven chompers were permanently exposed on that side of his face. What few patches of hair he had on his bumpy scalp were red and thin.

“HELlo,” Proletar said with a wave of his overgrown right hand, twice the size of the other. His voice was raspy, wavering and stuttering and randomly squeaking, and he was stuck with a permanent wheeze that got worse the more he moved. He huffed and puffed as he hobbled closer to her, one leg having been removed and replaced with a long metal peg constructed haphazardly out of scrap metal from the knee down.

Jubblowski became intensely aware of her own state of exposure, flushing beet red and shutting her thighs tightly for what little it was worth.

“You arE vERY PREtty,” the wretched mutant said as he came nearer. The buxom lady glanced down between his legs by reflex, noting the way his gut concealed most of his genitals, except for his testes. And those almost made her heave. One was ‘merely’ the size of a fist and dangled loosely, while the other had been absolutely racked with tumors and growths, swollen up to half the size of his head and tightly wrapped by veiny white scrotum. What really made her sick was the sight of a gigantic, thumb-thick vein which bulged with something every now and again.

“Eesn’t shee?” Cultist giggled, trotting up to wrap her arms around him in a close hug, planting sweet kisses on his tumorous cheek. “And hwee’ve warmed heer all up!”

“I am not warmed up, I’m dry and cold! I swear!” Jubblowski said, lifting her thighs up and wrapping one over the other to desperately conceal her hot, moist panties.

“I doN’T thInk shE Wants me vERy much,” Proletar coughed, his rancid breath wafting over to the soldier, who tried her best not to gag.

“Of coursh shee does!” Cultist laughed, her cute round tats jiggling lightly. “Shee just doesn’t hknow eet yet!”

“I know full well I don’t, damn it!” Jubblowski yelled. “Where are the sexy drugs to loosen me up?! At least dose me with something if this has to happen! What kind of half-assed POW rape and corruption operation are you running here?!”

Proletar lifted his one good eyebrow and leaned his bulk over to glance at Cultist. “What HAVe yOU bEen tELling hER?”

The heretic shrugged back at him. “Shee theenks hwee joost haff that stuff lhaying around!”

“WELL, of COUrse wE doN’T. ThE SLAAneshIS kEEP usING it fastER than we CAn PRODuce it. THey’RE MEan.”

“Then bring them in here! I’m sure they’ve still got some stashed somewhere!”

“Are hyoo crhazy?! Eet’d be a gewd tyme, but the cawmdown wood probably be murdhur!”

“Whatever, I’ve done Frenzon on the battlefield before,” Jubblowski said.

“No, hwee mean actual murdhur. Aas een hyoo can’t cawmdown unteel hyoo keel someone. Spesifikally the hway the daymon playing with hyoor head demands,” Cultist said.

“So you’re saying I have to just hang here and take it?” Jubblowski asked with a frustrated scowl.

Proletar began to shake and shiver where he stood, and the peppy gal renewed the tightness of her hug around his wobbling bulk. “Shhh! Hyoo are a gewd boy, gewd boy!”

“S-SHe dOESn’t wanT mE. I’m G-goinG BaCk,” the lumbering mutant said in a miserable tone.

“Nhoo! Calhm down! Theez eez hraping tyme!” the heretic yelled, her speech growing even more incoherent with panic as he shrugged her off and began to waddle away. She skittered across the floor and wrapped herself around his cold peg leg, stopping him in his tracks. “Hwee mayde deez fhor hyoo!”

“I d-D-don’T WANt to bE a BAd BOY.”

“Nhoo! Hyoo arr gewd boy! Hraping eez gewd fhor war effirth! Here, hwee weel wharm hyoo awp!” she said, scrambling up between her legs, her wild and greasy hair brushing under his hideously swollen testicles. She twisted around and sat on her knees, reaching up to grab something and slowly pump on it with just one hand, then both as it grew against her warm, oily touch.

“OOhh,” he moaned gutturally, his hands tensing up in the air as he watched her dutifully stroke his swelling length. It was covered in tiny neoplasms, forming uneven, rigid bumps across the darkening length.

Jubblowski had just enough of an angle to witness its size, and an astonished gasp spilled from her lips when she saw its mass appear from behind his hips and bump into Cultist’s cheek as the girl used both arms quite forcefully to work him over. The heretic giggled, eagerly kissing one of the tumorous bumps as she played with him with experienced ease.

“AhHhHH,” he mewled like a dying cat. “P-plEAse, m-m-M-m-M-Mo-MOre,” he stammered, standing awkwardly, clearly no idea what to do with his hands or hips.

“Hwee luve hyoo, Prohletarr,” she said, looking up at him with big, puppy dog eyes. “Hyoo shuld leesten to uzz!”

And she wrapped her lips around his tip, almost not even managing to fit her teeth around him, poking into his deep violet exposed glans, and she ran her tongue up and down the tangy slit of his urethra, making the mutant shudder where he stood. Then she suddenly withdrew, popping off of him with a sweet little sigh while her hands forcefully pressed into his monstrous length. Some sort of bulbous, murky white thing the size of a fingertip slithered out from her mouth, and she licked it up off of her chin and swallowed it down with a shiver of fun.

“C-CAn wE d-d-DO iT? I-it-IT’s beEN so loNG,” Proletar asked, panting hungrily down at her.

“Hwee weesh our body waz mmaturr enuff to handul hyoo like before. Bhut hwee cannot chyoose how hwee arr reborn.” She stood up straight, letting his dripping crown drag down her chest until it came to rest at her midriff, and took hold of the mutant to turn him back towards Jubblowski. “Though, shee can shurely take eet!”

And she got a proper view of it.

It was, at the least, an actual foot in length. And it was thick enough that every instinct in her screamed in terror.

“You’re joking,” Jubblowski said breathlessly as she watched it bounce towards her with every clumsy step. Her eyes were wide, an incredulous smile was on her face, she even forgot to wrap her thighs together and just hung limply at the sight. “There’s no way in all the God-Emperor’s grace that could fit!”

“Lhook, hher pussy eez tweetching,” Cultist pointed out with a sleazy grin. Jubblowski looked down and confirmed what she already knew – that her soaked panties were tight around her womanhood in a cameltoe, and she was indeed as aroused as ever.

“It-it is not! I just have to, er, pee!”

But her frantic excuses could not deter the sex-starved mutant, and he lumbered over to her until his wicked manhood brushed against her belly. It was as hot as fire against her exposed skin, and she futilely struggled against the manacles on her wrists above her for the umpteenth time. And when she looked at it, she saw the caked-on smegma around his foreskin, the complete lack of hygiene of it. And her skin crawled.

Cultist’s hand remained on his girth the whole time, as if guiding a stallion to a mare. She reached out to hook a finger under Jubblowski’s panties, and she slowly pulled them down, forcing both the mutant and the guardswoman to fight with the anxiety and anticipation of her slowly unveiled vulva, thick strands of her sexual fluids stretching from her puffy lips to the fabric as it was tugged down.

But Proletar could not wait, and he leaned in to touch his twisted lips to her left nipple, kissing it while his small hand went to wrap around her other weighty bosom and squeeze it gently. He sank into her tender flesh, both lips and fingers, and she could only groan in discomfort tinged with physical pleasure from her sensitive breasts. He did not even break away while Cultist began to guide his prick down between Jubblowski’s beautiful thighs, lining him up.

The mutant leaned down on his knees, trying to get his tip right at her entrance, feeling the heretic align both their genitals perfectly, and then he put forth all the strength he could in his hips, rising with his knees simultaneously. Jubblowski cried out as the immense girth slowly, forcefully spread her loins wide and slowly worked in, and once he was past her labia, she was forced to feel his wide head parting her inner folds as it rose along with the mutant. And all she could think about was the image of its filth grinding all the way inside of her, greased by her own shameful slickness.

“No, no, no! You’re a bad boy! You’re a bad boy!” she shouted, and Proletar froze where he was. Tears started to stream down his face, and he sobbed incoherently.

Before Jubblowski could say it more, a hand wrapped around her face and slammed her head into the wall, jarring her so badly that her sight swam and every thought felt slurred. There was a face in front of her, and, in the muddy gloom in her head, the eyes seemed to glow with the very light of the Warp itself.

“Hyoo don’t ssay that to awr Prolhetarr. Hwee’ll sleet hyoor fooking throat.”

Jubblowski’s hazy consciousness almost turned completely black, but she could somehow see the Cultist consoling the mutant, hugging and kissing him all over and guiding his hands to play with her huge, round breasts, everything at a crisp, impossible speed. When at last things seemed to slow down, and the painful weight on her skull faded to the background, what she became aware of was just how deep and intense the burning pressure inside her passage felt.

“Oh, Throne,” Jubblowski groaned, squirming against the molten lead pillar inside of her. She felt the mutant throb and thrust inward, and all her folds were massaged by his huge girth and each little veiny bump on it. That spot in her core, her most sensitive spot, was being pressed like a button and her every muscle twinged every time the hideous man slid himself in or out.

He was at a healthy, sensual pace, his hips swinging in as far as her wet, tight insides would allow his cock to go. There was a particularly wide lump of neoplasm in his manhood that was difficult to work past her lips, so only a little more than half of him was in her, and it already felt like she was packed full of his knotted flesh.

“UngH, huFf, UNgh, ungh, unGh, MnPH, y-YOu feEL s-s-SO-so g-g-GOOD!” Proletar said, smelly spit misting onto Jubblowski’s face as she turned her head away and shut her eyes in protest.

“Hnn, b-be gentle at least,” Jubblowski whispered, fearful of the Cultist’s reprisal for uttering any more severe of a rebuke than that. Her voice shook like her shuddering chest, her bosoms heaving in his misshapen hands as her curvaceous body burned with luscious heat that she wished would go away.

He listened to her and slowed down his clumsy thrusts, but that was its own kind of hell. She had to intimately feel and focus on every inch of him as it passed in and out of her sopping tightness, almost like the way the commissar would always alternate between slow and passionate to quick and hard like an animal. How much longer would it last like that?

“Nnn, no, wait, faster, h-hurry,” the guardswoman whispered, and Proletar let out a grunt of pleasure as he released her breasts despite how much he loved groping them, placed his hands on the wall behind her to brace himself, and started to take her as raw and heavy as he must have been aching to. She let out a salacious moan when she felt him suddenly start hammering her pussy, all the sensations suddenly jolting through her at once, and her walls squeezed and rippled around him out of pure reflex, her traitorous body working to accept and embrace him as much as possible. “Ah! Great Throne! Ah! Ah! No! Hnnn! Ahn! Ahn!”

“Hyoo should keess her,” Cultist said in a sultry voice as she continued hugging him, reaching down to pump the slick half of his shaft that was not being so lovingly caressed by Jubblowski’s silky insides. “She luves keesses!”

The mutant grunted with a bit of discomfort as he leaned up despite his hunchback to plant his lips against the buxom babe’s face, getting her chin at first and then stretching just a bit more to lock their mouths together. At first she grit her teeth to deny his foul green tongue entry, but when she felt his bump smash into her sore loins, so much power behind it that it began to slip in and spread her even wider than she thought she could part, her jaw dropped just in time for his gross muscle to slip in and wrap around hers, and by then it was too late for her.

She smooched her lush lips back against his crusty mouth, and he redoubled the strength in his legs and shoved the rest of the bump inside of her where her lusty juices and softness allowed him to push it in even deeper, and he thrust like a maddened beast, his voice trembling with pleasure and emotion as he groaned into her throat. As often as he broke off to breathe, she spoke words of overwhelmed passion into his ugly face, begging him for more, harder, to give her everything. And for all the glory of Chaos, he fucked her.

Cultist grinned, and, never breaking away from Proletar, slid around behind him, her arms dragging around his bulk daintily. She slowly slid down him into a squat, hands reaching up under him to grip and massage his meaty balls, soft little slurps soon audible amidst the harder slaps of flesh against flesh and the deep sloshes of his mass carving into Jubblowski’s deepest, most moist and sensitive depths.

“AhhHHhhHh, I FEel sO gOoD!” Proletar moaned, reaching his hands down to wrap them around the guardswoman’s firm, round bottom as he ravenously raped her silly.

“Shut up and kiss me!” Jubblowski moaned, her legs like jelly, her delectable tits bouncing up high with every rough thrust he made into her to drive himself home, and her core burning with need to house more, more, feel his bumps rubbing through her, get pounded and ravaged. The mutant obeyed her command, and the sensation in her body burst into unbearable, shuddering pleasure, all so overwhelming that her eyes rolled up almost behind her eyelids every time he slammed himself in amidst the joy of their tongues wrestling so passionately. Every thrust felt so good that it hurt, hurt so right, every waggle of his slimy tongue felt so raw like an exposed nerve.

She could not help but come at the feeling of his rock hard girth throbbing furiously into her folds, almost imitated by the slithering of his grimy tongue that played against the top of her mouth. The uncontrollable, overwhelming bliss washed over her, concentrated like hot lightning in her core where everything she had seized up and squished around him with need as something pleasantly warm flowed from between her legs and splashed to the ground below them.

Her lush legs lifted by reflex, wrapping around the mutant and trapping him, locking his hips in, squeezing so tightly that he let out a groan of pain into her mouth, one last, maddened hump into her, driving almost every last inch of himself into her vice-tight hole and forcing it all to stay in there despite her incoherent moans of protest and pain as he felt her flowing juices pour between them, warm as love. And his gigantic, overgrown nuts just bounced up and down, huge surges of his twisted seed flowing through his pulsing shaft and all the way up to his tip, where such a torrent erupted inside of her as to totally overshadow her own orgasmic gushing.

The first spurt was light, a harbinger of what was to come, mostly just dribbling out of his tip and right into her most precious place in an almost tender, babymaking kiss between his cock and her womb. The second was when the volume of coming semen surpassed human limits, and a stream of absurdly dense and potent seed exploded out of him, raping her insides with fecund white spunk with a loud, echoing slursh every time he throbbed and another subsequent stream blasted out. He filled her up in an instant, and then it had to pour out around his daemonically thick meat and mix in with the filth pooling on the floor.

And all throughout his long, extravagant outpour of hot love, he kept their mouths sealed together, keeping the kiss going, not even breaking off to breathe. The rippling tightness of her passage seemed to only get stronger and stronger as their mutual orgasm continued for nearly an entire minute, and then, only then, did he start to slowly pull out of her absolutely battered hole. Each bump passing over her inner flesh sent another spasm through her, and her legs unlocked from around him, too mindless in her lust even to keep that going. Every inch was like a new climax for the both of them, squeezing out more and more little horny spurts from his length while she moaned only by pure reflex.

When at last his crown plopped out of her, and his manhood sagged down, somehow still shooting out a few last sloppy ropes before finally stopping, a thick column of his chunky semen began to gradually decant from her twitching pussy, her jaw hanging open and her tongue wagging out, her legs twitching and her eyes completely dulled over, not looking at a damn thing, just lost in her sweat-soaked pleasure.

“HnnGHhh, I fiNISHed, I DiD It,” Proletar panted. The slurping behind and below him finally ended and Cultist rose up, licking her lips and embracing him in a warm hug.

“Gewd jawb! Hwee arr prowd! Vhery gewd rhape! Shee eez still feeling eet!”

“C-c-CAn I GO s-s-SIt DOWn noW?” he groaned, holding himself exhaustedly.

“Yeez!” Cultist grinned, and she let go of him. He limped his way out of the room, headed back to wherever he had come from.

And Cultist turned her attention back to the guardswoman, eyeing the absolute mess that had been left of her, waving her hand in front of Jubblowski’s eyes to try and snap her out of her orgasmic reverie. It took a little while, but eventually she seemed to recover enough consciousness to follow the heretic’s movements with her eyes.

“Hyoo deed eet! Hwee hweren’t shure hyoo’d shurvive heem…”

“Hwuh? Uh… uh… you, uh, still haven’t broken me,” Jubblowski stammered.

“Awf coursh nawt! Dat waz just a treet fhor Prohletarr! He’s always sho grumpy, but he’s a gewd boy!”

“Ugh, huh, wha? I feel, all, hnn, funny,” Jubblowski said, proceeding to loudly moan and turn bow-legged, clasping her thighs together and chewing on her lip. Pins and needles ran up her passage, tickling all the way. The heat in her core felt like it was almost pulsing, flowing, churning around deeper and deeper. She moaned and chewed her lip, her legs shivering from the simple, primal pleasure of being so full of such strong seed.

“Oooh! Hyoo must be feeling da daymonocytes!” Cultist said, reaching down to place a hand on the guardswoman’s belly, which felt almost cool compared to the pungent batter burning and churning inside of her. “They’re shooper teengly! Luve to sweem around in hyoo!”

“Daemono…cytes? What?” Jubblowski asked, the womanly flush on her cheeks not really going away.

“Daymon cells leeft over frahm Prohletarr’s pawseshun! Vhery lively! Luve cuddling hyoor ovharies!”

Jubblowski glanced down at the puddle of seed on and around her bare feet, and saw what looked like little milky sperm cells swimming around, one climbing up on her foot and slithering up her bare leg towards her womanhood. “What the hell?” She watched, and felt, that stray daemonocyte slip right into her hole, and a shiver rocked through her. “G-gross!”

“Oooohh, hyoo won’t mind eet sho much, eet feels great!” Cultist smiled, rubbing Jubblowski’s midriff gently, which seemed to excite the things inside her, and Jubblowski’s eyes widened when she realized where all of them were heading. Dozens of tingles, like pleasurable static shocks, ran up inside of her, swirling, traveling deeper and deeper until they ended their journey at two distinct points, and they lit on fire, feeling like ants were crawling over them nonstop.

“Aghn,” Jubblowski moaned in protest. “S-stop it! Stop rubbing me there!”

“No,” Cultist giggled with bedroom eyes. “Hyoo arr such a fhertile girl, hyoo shuld enjoy eet!”

“Ugh! Nnn! Oh! Throne on high! Shit! S-shit!” Jubblowski cried, feeling a second orgasm coming on from her intense, skin-crawling pleasure.

When Cultist leaned in and started licking her belly, Jubblowski let out a strained hiss, trying to push her away with her legs, but Cultist just took hold of both her thighs and wrapped them around herself as she tongued at her flesh greedily. If the little monster cells had been excited by just the warmth of Cultist’s hand, they went into a maddened frenzy at the touch of her pink muscle.

There was no way to stop her torment. The moment Jubblowski realized it, she lost her power to endure the ticklish licks and the endless crawling and dancing daemonocytes. Her pussy twinged hard, briefly stopping the stringy drips of excess seed, and the guardswoman let out an uncontrollable laugh as the sensations rocked her exhausted form and made her come so soon after the last time.

Cultist hugged her tight as she felt every muscle in Jubblowski twitch and flex rhythmically for a few moments. Then, when she felt her slowly come back down from cloud nine, she stood up and kissed one of her swollen nipples, then her neck, and then her lips. Jubblowski kissed back passionately, shamefully, and Cultist could taste the flavor of Proletar’s saliva in her mouth. Cultist broke off, thin, clear spit stretching between their lips as both panted in arousal.

“Hyoo’re a gewd girl,” Cultist said. “Hyoo cahn go free now.”

And the restraints on her wrists suddenly unlatched, and Jubblowski realized the heretic had unlocked them while they had been kissing. Jubblowski practically collapsed into Cultist’s arms, who gently laid her down on the floor, picking up the discarded panties that had been utterly stained with mutant semen and handing them to the exhausted woman, a thick glob of white stuff spilling out of them when Jubblowski closed her fingers around them.

“W-what, no daemon tentacle pit?” Jubblowski said.

“Hwee don’t haff one. Ahnd hwee got no Playguebearers.”

“I can just—” Jubblowski started, pausing when she watched daemonocytes from the puddle slither up Cultist’s hip, immediately trying to slip themselves under her tight thong, worming their way into her inviting holes, and the Cultist not even flinching, just a happy blush crossing her face as she brushed her bottom clean of some that soon crawled right back up again, “—leave?”

“Eef hyoo want…”

“You’re not going to shoot me when I try to go back to Imperial lines?”

“No,” Cultist said, reaching under her thong to finger herself as they lounged together.

“Am I corrupted? Will I turn on my fellows, my Emperor when it is most convenient to your plans?”

“Only eef hyoo want to.”

“Oh, good,” Jubblowski said, sighing loudly with relief.

She rolled onto her hands and knees, swatting a couple more of the daemon sperm cells off her thighs before they could get to her pussy, feeling one slip into her rear where she wasn’t looking as one arrived onto her nipple, dangling there, somehow almost sucking on it. She let out a mewl of complaint, but it was nothing compared to the storm in her depths already. She took her completely white-saturated panties and slipped them on, hopping on one foot to try to evade more of the cheeky little blighters climbing up her legs. She managed to find her bra, and she pulled it on, swatting the bugger off her tit, too tired to care anymore. Her trousers came on next, then her boots, and then she went stumbling out the door and into the hallway, followed by a small pack of wild daemonocytes that had not given up on their prize and would surely make a home in her when she let down her guard.


She had no idea where she was going, but up was a good idea. She looked for the nearest stairs, finding one stairwell collapsed from a cave in, then tread deeper into the bowels of the Chaos installation. She heard voices, voices of men, both normal and exotic of tone and words, voices that were near and far and above and below. She darted around as best she could, attempting to avoid all others, fearful not merely of them, but the feelings coursing through her cum-slick insides. But she could not avoid the inhabitants of the base forever.

When a tattooed, hairless, battle-worn pack of cultists passed her, she shuddered at them, their strong lean bodies, their state of undress, their warp-corrupt flesh. All of them glanced at her, grins appearing on their faces, but they kept walking. Thank the Emperor, they kept walking. Because Jubblowski’s pussy was absolutely pulsing with need the whole time, leaving her weak in the knees, leaning against the wall, fresh out of breath. They all simply walked past her, and she panted with relief, and just the slightest regret.

But then hands wrapped around her huge tits, squeezing them through her bra, and drool ran down her chin as her eyelids drooped, a smile she did not expect crossing her face. One by one, they surrounded her, pinning her to the wall as those hands roughly molested her bosoms, far too large even for them to wrap around perfectly. She moaned in his embrace, seeing the other men dropping whatever coverings they had over their waists, revealing cocks, dozens of cocks, many of them large, a few huge, many unusually mutated into tentacles or ribbed shafts or even stranger things.

They bent her over a table, cutting her pants right off of her with a knife. Her heaving breasts ran flat against the table, her arms limp before her, and her panties were tugged aside to make way for the first throbbing cock into her aching hole. The man on her slammed his pelvis into her jiggly ass without an ounce of care for how she felt, for hurting her. He just humped her like a daemon, grabbing her hair and pushing her face down against the table as her legs shivered and turned inwards.

He took her raw, no care for protection, his balls slapping into her sore clit with every obscene thrust into her wet, inviting passage. He grunted and panted and sweat rolled down the both of them, while she just stayed silent, eyes looking at nothing, her entire body nothing but a raw nerve for feeling the lusts of the depraved. When he came, he poured the entire contents of his testicles in her and pulled off with an exhausted grunt, holding his sore genitals, moving aside for the next heretic to engrave himself upon the slut.

The second was slower, taking care to feel her sloppy and abused hole properly and ensure she also felt his hard length. He froze mid-fuck suddenly, a sharp grunt of pain spilling from his mouth, and then all of a sudden he burst into a maddened frenzy, almost like an unstoppable beast upon her tender insides as he rammed her with all the strength in his hips until he splurted out his thick load and added to the growing mixture.

The third left her womanhood alone, pushing between both her big, round buttocks into her bare ass, finding her rim so incredibly tight that he nearly ejaculated just from thrusting himself all the way into her intestines that wrapped around him like velvety wet cotton. She let out a surprised cry when she felt him enter her there, complaining that she had been saving that hole for the commissar. But the heretic had no mercy for her, and he took her last untouched entrance for himself with the utmost glee and laughter, his thick girth throbbing much harder every time she whined and moaned in protest. He glopped his disgusting filth deep into her ass, then slipped out and made way for the next fellow.

Each cultist made good his time with her, pounding her seemingly without end before they locked up and came like a hose in her unbelievably alluring, hot body. Her moans crescendoed with their rhythm, coming like a clock whenever they lost it and dumped their seed into her. The buzzing, the incessant swarming inside her seemed to intensify every time a dick slid into her, leaving her utterly helpless and unable to resist the pleasure.

And more than one took a second turn on her, unsatisfied with just once. They lasted even less the second round, as if they had only become more sensitive to her inviting folds and already exhausted from the intensity of their first fuck. One of the men even humped her five whole times, almost as if he was losing his mind, powering past even his refractory period as if by sheer will and lust. But even he spent himself inside her, and he stumbled back and passed out against the wall.

She did not notice when the last of them had gone, still rumbling with purrs at each little shockwave of ecstasy rocking through her body. Dense, bubbly semen slowly dripped out of both her holes. Her lower half felt almost broken, every inch of her rear and thighs completely painted over with manly cum. It took her a few minutes before she finally managed to lift herself up and stand up straight, straightening out her panties, and Jubblowski licked her lips, immense satisfaction pulsing through her core.

The guardswoman staggered out of the room, journeying into increasingly dilapidated tunnels and hearing fewer and fewer voices. She passed by a half-gnawed human skull on the ground, but paid it no heed as she passed into almost complete darkness, the way only lit by red emergency lights as though an entire wing of the base had no primary power supply. She walked and walked, hearing skittering, spotting spiders the size of a great dane skittering away into the shadows.

And then she shivered, feeling as though someone or something was watching her. She glanced over her shoulder, but saw nothing. When Jubblowski looked back, she saw a gleam, six gleams, three pairs of eyes watching her in almost complete darkness. Each was side by side, as high as her waist, and then three noises came out of it. One growled, one remained silent, and the third trilled like a bird songs that crept up her spine like a centipede winding itself around it.

“Grrr.”

“…”

“Tweedle-tweed! Chirp chirp chirp!”

The creature stepped forward into the light, revealing three heads, each very different; the left pink, long-snouted, with only a toothless round hole for a mouth through which a long tongue flicked out; the middle blue, horned like a ram and with a snout like a stag; and the right red, with a wide maw full of viciously sharp teeth for ripping flesh apart. A horrific beast, warped by Chaos itself into something that could not even be called a mockery of a dog or a lion.

And it made its intentions known to her.


Cultist laid there, fingering herself for a little bit before she lost interest and started playing with the daemonocytes by flicking them around the room. When that, too, got boring, she stood up and stretched and went walking through the subterranean fortress in search of food or entertainment or both.

She found a sleeping traitor guardsman laying against a wall in a secluded, semen-splattered room, his pants down around his ankles. His half-rigid erection caught her eye, and she leaned over between his legs and wrapped her teeth around it and slowly bobbed her head up and down, feeling him stir slightly in his exhaustion, but he did not fully rouse. His manhood, too, proved unable to harden much, likely due to drink or drugs. She did taste the strong flavor of a woman on it, though. Disappointed, Cultist decided to take a different kind of advantage of him. He had some corpse starch bars in his pockets, so she swiped those and his jacket and chowed down as she wandered, silencing the rumblings in her gut.

Cultist decided to venture into the abandoned sections of the fortress, wanting to visit her manic heretek friend who always set up shop where few could bother her. She passed by the same old gnawed skull as always, then she heard a familiar noise, or rather, three familiar noises and a woman’s guttural moans of deepest pleasure.

“Ungh! Ungh! Ah, yes! Right there! More!”

It was unmistakable. Her eyes went wide with joyous recognition, and she broke into a run to find the source.

“Wafflez! Khay-ozz! Where are hyoo?” she called, rounding a corner and freezing at what she saw. Jubblowski looked up from where she lay on her hands and knees, face contorting in pleasure, lips pursing tightly as she saw Cultist and gave a dopey smile that shifted a little every time she bounced forward. She was pinned underneath the bulk of a tri-colored beast with three different heads, each devoted to a different deity of the black pantheon, each making its own little pleasured noises.

“Khay-ozz! Wafflez! Hwee capthoored hyoo again!” Cultist yelled in joy, charging over to it and seizing all three of its long necks in a tight hug that may well have crushed the life out of anything more delicate. All three heads licked at her lovingly, or at least as best they could, the shared body of the Chaos spawn still humping away at the buxom bitch below to feel her lush, welcoming passage.

“H-hey,” Jubblowski said, glancing over at her legs. “Which one is his name?”

“Both arr!”

“O-oh. Like, one for each head, or…?”

“Yesh!”

“Right, of course,” Jubblowski agreed, delirious.

“Hyoo shure deedn’t make eet far, deed hyoo?” Cultist asked with a hint of smugness in her tone. “Well, awr Khay-ozz eez very sweet. Hwee see hee’s taken very gewd care awf hyoo!”

“Ohhh, yesss, he sure has,” Jubblowski moaned with red cheeks, gritting her teeth as his thrusts suddenly got a lot sharper and heavier against her plump rear, little wet slurches echoing down the halls every time he slammed into her ‘till his balls slapped against her. His blue middle cock, the largest and most human-like aside from the slight ridges on it, was the one plundering her luscious hole, while his other two smushed into her firm backside, hot and hard against her.

The deer-headed middle was drooling all over the ground, staring straight forward at nothing as the other heads snapped and licked at each other, bored and discontent. Cultist grinned and ran her fingers under the middle’s chin, tickling it right where it couldn’t take it.

“Ahn! Ugh, I can feel him, unnnf, coming! Yes! Yes!” Jubblowski screamed, her everything tightening in the ecstasy of her next orgasm as she was very loudly flooded full of daemon seed, and then some.

“Gewd boys, gewd girl,” Cultist purred, petting the both of them lovingly. The spawn slowly pulled out of the quivering private and let its raw spunk drizzle out of her, stepping back. But the other two heads were clearly unsatisfied, going off their needy growls and chirps. “Hmm. Ooh! Hwee haff an idea!”

She leaned down and lifted up Jubblowski’s chin to kiss her deeply. “Hwee weel share!”

“S-share?” Jubblowski mumbled, still dreamy with bliss.

“Yesh! Shide-by-shide!”

Cultist discarded her stolen jacket, then pulled down her thong and kicked it away, dancing around to get on her hands and knees beside Jubblowski. She reached back and slapped the private’s ass, making her hiss as her flesh jiggled slightly, then smacked her own pert bottom, spreading her slick slit with two fingers for the spawn to stare at longingly and sniff. The Khornate head on her side leaned in and breathed in her feminine scent, his crimson girth hardening even more, thickest of the three. It reluctantly slipped out its flat, wide tongue, running it right up her greasy vulva and stopping at her cute little pucker. It repeated the motion, diligently pleasing her, preparing her for what was to come as it had been trained to do for years.

The Slaaneshi head went straight for the cum-soaked mess that was Jubblowski’s backside, digging its long, serpentine tongue deep in her filthy pussy, slurping up the thick mix of so many different seeds inside of her, and coaxing the most salacious, satisfying, rumbling gasps out of her.

“Oh! Throne! How l-long is this tongue?!” Jubblowski groaned, her sex-sore hole finding such a gentle, slick, harmless penetration oddly comforting compared to all the hard, vicious fuckings of the day.

“Eez as lhong as eet needs to bee,” the heretic giggled. “Oawhh! Hyoo shuld move awn to the sexings! Hwee haven’t gawtten off awl day! Eez nawt fair!”

Waffles did not need to be told twice. He stepped forward, towering over both the prostrate girls like a mammoth beast, the red side lining up his member while the pink side simply slid its long, prehensile dick up and down in Jubblowski’s lush valley between her round buttocks, grinding her just a little more.

As if united in lust, despite being divided in all other things, both sides started their downwards descent into those tender passages simultaneously. Both labia parted at the pressing of both tips, permitting easy, smooth entrance. Both heads let out their own respective trills of joy as they pushed in as deep as they could, then repositioned their legs briefly, and made a second, more optimal, sopping wet thrust into them.

“Nnngh!” Jubblowski grunted.

“Oohhhahhh!” Cultist giggled.

The Khornate right took over the rhythm of the sex almost immediately, dominating the entire three-pronged body of the spawn through sheer willpower as it began humping its dear Cultist in earnest, so horny it did not even try to bite her like it usually did. It knew it was the widest, the strongest, the hardest and the roughest, and it used everything it had, every little bump it had, the large knot at the base of its length, to properly savage the heretic’s downright snug insides with all its might, bouncing her forward and driving her into heated pants of pain and pleasure as she rested her face against the cold floor, unable to adequately express the complex combination of feelings rushing through her core every time it pushed in.

The Slaaneshi left allowed control to be wrested from it, instead focusing on using its freely moving dick to whip in and out of Jubblowski’s beautiful quim over and over, nonstop. It adopted an entirely different, smoother rhythm to the bestial pace set by the red right, focused on savoring her as much as possible. It was a pleasant experience for her, a break from all the intensity of before. Yet when both their tempos aligned, and the left stuck its smooth and throbbing length in her at the same time its hips pushed down, it drove nearly every inch into her, leaving Jubblowski blubbering, speechless, fat bosoms flat against the ground and shivering in place, digging her fingers into the stone as if to find some sort of anchor that would not come. That same catastrophic swarming inside of her kicked up to untold intensity, as if reacting to the specific kind of flesh coiling into her, and all she could think was how damn incredible it felt all throughout her core, like ants circling through her innermost places while a hot rod slammed itself almost that deep.

And pinned between both of their asses was the blue cock, still so sensitive from its fresh orgasm, rubbing between them every time Khayozz humped at the beauties, sandwiched between sweaty, oily bums and hips and pulsing with unbridled need.

Jubblowski had nothing but desperate moans on her lips, begging for the pink length coiling inside of her to slide itself over that one spot it had found in its roaming caresses of her soft walls, sending unbearably good pulses of electric heat all through her entire body.

Cultist remained mostly silent, her labored breathing alone all the proof the head above her needed to know how aroused she was and how good it felt. Every now and then, she would let out a low, quick moan, but she was not the talking type; she was sweet and obliging as molasses and simply enjoyed everything. After a few minutes, she could feel the heat inside of her mounting, growing closer to the point of no return, both for her and the solid spawn cock that pumped her.

She glanced over at the guardswoman, watching her face shift from overwhelmed joy to struggling to resist and back to a dropped jaw every couple of moments. She was having so much fun. Cultist reached out a hand, wrapping it around Jubblowski’s and tightening her hold until Jubblowski glanced over, meeting her eyes as the both of them slid forward a little from the force of the beast’s pelvis meeting their backsides.

The spawn’s three heads all let out cries and growls of pleasure, and the entire beast picked up its pace to a frenzy, tearing up both girls with slippery wet sloshes every time it buried itself in them. Cultist leaned in, sensing the finale was near, and watched Jubblowski do the same.

Slowly, their lips met, brushing so gently over each other before they both passionately embraced their mouths and met tongue with tongue, swishing around, wrestling together, both moaning as the spawn froze up and suddenly twin torrents of potent sperm erupted as deep as they could inside of them both. Jubblowski shuddered, eyelids flickering, while Cultist just inhaled sharply like a hiss, and blinding orgasm rushed through both of them, both feeling it in the other through their trembling lips and voices.

The spawn poured like waterspouts from all three of its daemonic cocks at once, emptying its many testicles into and beside the two of them seemingly without end, but the flow did stop, and the exhausted creature pulled itself out and went trotting around, flicking all three of its heads around at once as it dribbled all over the floor from each of its members.

And Jubblowski collapsed, absolutely no strength left in her legs to even hold up her rear in the air. Cultist, still quite fresh and ready, pulled herself just a bit closer and wrapped her fingers between Jubblowski’s. “Hyoo deed sho well, Hyoo-blow-me! Hyoo are the bestest!”

“Heh,” Jubblowski giggled, flushing beet red. “T-thanks, I guess. You, uh, really got me good there.”

“Hyoo want to cawddle?” Cultist asked.

“Y-yes, please,” Jubblowski said, shaking with all the adrenaline coursing through her veins. “And n-no more sex. F-for a while. Please.”

“Shure,” Cultist said, clambering around her and wrapping her up tightly in a close embrace with both their faces mere inches away. The ground was cold, and hard, and uncomfortable, but neither was in any position to complain. “Hyoo wanna join uzz?”

“Not… really.”

“Ohkay! Then hwee weel take hyoo back to hyoor camp tomorrow!”

“That would be… really appreciated. But, can we just sleep?”

“Ohkay!” Cultist said, grinning and nuzzling her nose against the Imperial’s as tenderly as possible, smiling into her eyes. Soon, the spawn had worked off all its post-ejaculate excitement, and it came trotting over to lie down and wrap itself around the duo, providing a perfect source of warmth and cushion for them both.


“Hhurry! Hyoo weel meess hyoor chanse!” Cultist said, dragging Jubblowski by the hand across the no man’s land long torn up by artillery and lasers.

“Sorry, my legs still aren’t working right, ow,” Jubblowski grunted with exertion as she tried to keep up with Cultist’s rush.

The warzone had fallen into one of its brief standstills, where almost nothing stirred and both sides were too exhausted to attack each other for a while. It was a rare, precious window of opportunity that might not come again for days.

“Hwee arr almhost there! Jhust a beet further!” the youthful girl said, pointing at the nearing rockcrete ramparts of the Imperial fortified lines.

And a laser shot right through her gut, burning through her exposed flesh like fire through butter. She collapsed, all the life gone out of her limbs, looking up at the blue skies with a dreamy stare.

“No!” Jubblowski yelled, kneeling down beside her and wrapping her hands around her limp fingers. “Cultist, you can’t go yet! I need you still!”

“Dohn’t bee ssad… Hwee… weel be back… shoon…” She coughed up blood.

“Really? Oh. Nevermind then. No, no! Wait, but how do I get rid of the daemonocytes?!”

“Hyoo… must…” the girl said, but her strength failed her for another word, and she breathed out her last breath, falling still.

The woman’s eye twitched, and she reached down to wrap her hands around the heretic’s throat, throttling her and shaking her light body up and down like a doll in exasperation. “Hey! Tell me! Don’t die yet!”

“Private Jubbs!” a stern voice barked in the distance. “Hurry! We must retreat to the walls!”

“Cultist! Cultist!” Jubblowski shouted right up until the Commissar came racing right up to her and dragged her away, kicking and screaming, from the bloody corpse.

“I understand your righteous fury against the heretics all too well, but time is fleeting! We suspect an attack on our exposed flank in a few minutes! By the Emperor, I thought when you were pulled over the walls that we’d never find you!” the Commissar said, carrying her away. “My sweet princess! I’ll never take my eyes off you again!”

Jubblowski shut up, glancing up at him in surprise. “You… missed me that much?”

“Of course! My bed was cold without you, my favorite icon of the Imperial Guard! You and I are going to make up for lost time right now! The Emperor’s work is never done!”

All the swelling joy in her face instantly vanished, and she just gave up, letting him drag her all the way back behind the walls.


“T-the attack is going p-p-poorly, sir,” said the sniveling cultist as he cowered below the gargantuan stature of Dranon looming down at him.

“I can see that!” Dranon boomed, throwing his hand out at the holotable that showed a real-time map of the battlefield via scans. “Damn the loyalist dogs! How did they see a perfect assault from their flank coming?!”

“O-one of us went running across the field, sir! They were alerted to something going on!”

“Who in Lorgar’s weepy cunt dared betray my orders?!”

“We d-don’t know! They got shot!”

“I hope the daemons feasted well on their puny soul!”

A voice resounded through the command center, although not Dranon’s and not any of his lieutenants’, either. It was disembodied and spoke directly into all of their minds, a voice of such absolute power that its every word seemed poised to alter reality if spoken with enough force.

“You have failed us again, Dranon. You had one job.”

“What?! What are you talking about?! I’m suicidally attacking the stupid Imperials here, like you demanded!”

“That is secondary to your true purpose, the only reason we still permit you to draw breath.”

“No… no! I forbade her to go out on the battlefield!” Dranon yelled, crushing his noxious cigar in his mailed hand as he grimaced so tightly his face was about ready to rip itself right off his skull. “Why can’t she obey a single goddamn order?! Every time!”

“You are incompetent and a fool. The only appropriate punishment is to regress her age when we spawn her again.”

“No! No! Anything but that! She’ll be a child again! That hell! I cannot bear such a hell a fourth time!”

The voice burst into laughter, and Dranon knew that he was doomed. “Anything?”

“Yes! Anything! I’ll do anything! Turn me into a Chaos spawn! Rip my limbs and armor off and condemn me to a century in the Bastille of Torment! Destroy my mind and drive me mad! Anything! Anything, damn you!”

“Oh, I believe there is an all-too-fitting alternative.”


Cultist awoke on a dirty cot, sitting up, yawning, and scratching at her messy purple and black locks. She glanced down at herself, finding herself entirely nude, and her body quite developed compared to her previous rebirth. She reached up and grabbed one of her ample, hefty bosoms, squeezing it like a toy. “Shteel nothing cahmpared to Hyoo-blow-me.”

She heard a high-pitched, muffled noise coming from beneath her, something struggling against her round bottom. She stood up, glancing down over her shoulder to see what looked like a colorful scarlet-purple armored action figure of a Chaos Space Marine, only it was fully articulate and lifelike, with chainsword-slashing action. He fired his adorably bite-size plasma pistol up into the air a few times, then bellowed something out loudly enough for her to hear. “You stupid-ass girl! Look at me! You did this! You did thissss!”

“Drahnawn, hyoo lhook sho cyute!” Cultist said, picking him up around his midsection and swinging him through the air in fast circles until he suddenly vomited right on her hand. “Awwwh, hwee weel clean hyoo awp!” she said, grabbing a nearby rag to wipe him and her hand off.

“Killlll meeeee!” Dranon squeaked in his adorable voice. “Bite my fucking head off!”

“Nho! Hwee haff something much better fhor hyoo!”

Cultist took out a small box hidden under her cot, opening it to reveal a small collection of dolls made of sticks, rags, paint, and looted jewelry. She grabbed a raggedy female doll and held it up to Dranon. “Theez eez hyoor new girlfhriend!”

He fired a bolt of plasma through its ugly face, and Cultist hissed with anger.

“Nho! Bawd Drahnawn! Hyoo arr nawt a waifu-killer!” she said, and she plucked the plasma pistol and chainsword right out of his grasp and tossed them in the box and shut it. “Hyoo kees her better orr hwee’ll yoose hyoo fohr miniachure wawr-gayming! Ptchew! Kaboosh! Wwwwwwwrrrrrrrck!”

“No! No! Noooooo!” he screamed, trying futilely to force her hand open as he was slowly brought closer to the grotesque mockery of humanity, and his face was forced into its filthy cotton lips.


See Also[edit]