Heretical Love 2

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"In the grim darkness of the future, there is only war… and sweet xeno love."

A sequel to the Heretical Love quest thread on /tg/ started by the user Papa-N !!z0ABcqUnNAP. Currently a one-off but it might be continued. Now with more Ara ara.

PROMOTIONS-small.png This article contains PROMOTIONS! Don't say we didn't warn you.
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.

THE STORY[edit]

Thread 1: Olympic Boogaloo[edit]

Despite the relative peace of the last month or so, the new (and as of yet, quite untested) alliance of races is... Well... Far from issue free. So used to war, it seems, there are few who know what to do during an era of tranquility.

For instance, some men actually despise bloodbowl. At rallies and protests they call it barbaric, violent, heretical (despite the Emprah attending a lot of games), and unsafe for work. As one of this year's superb owl champions, you take offense to that. There's nothing wrong with a bit of decapitation on a Monday night. Nor is there anything wrong with bouncing Daemonette earthshakers. That's just good old-fashioned family friendly fun.

Not every chaos marine is stoked over his god suddenly joining hands and singing around a fire (Khorne was really drunk, in his defense). A lot of them still cause trouble. Just last week, one suddenly threw his plate of macaroons up in the air while screaming “Death to the false Emprah!!!!”, which kind of disturbed the game of charades, considering the Emperor had drawn “Titanic” and was standing on a table with his arms outstretched, using his powers to make his hair stream in the wind. You'd all attempted to continue playing, but it had just been too awkward. Emp's kid nearly tearing the balance between the universe and the warp asunder had put a final stop to it.

And you'd just drawn “Top Gun”, too. Damn...

As though all of that were not enough, somehow the Eldar still persist with their snoody “holier than thou” attitude most of the time. Which is annoying. To everyone... Usually... Though to be honest, sometimes you enjoy it. You can't help yourself. There's just something about a barefoot Eldar stepping on you while insulting your every quality... You'll be in your bunk.

Not to mention that significant and unfortunate turn of events that followed you referring to a high ranking member of the fire caste (you didn't know, hard to keep track of them all), as “you, yes, you! The red haired DFC in the back there!” That had not ended well. Your armor still has the plasma burn.

Such things aren't exactly your fault, though. No, just your nature.

After all, no one ever said pimpin was easy. You've got one hundred and eleven problems, and bitches are twelve.

“It's Monday, hunnay! Time to wakey upy!” An annoyingly awake and all-too-cheerful voice shatters the silence along with your hopes and dreams of sleeping in as something prods you in the side.

“You're lying. It's still Saturday night, and you know it.” Grumbling, you attempt to turn over on your side but find your path rather blocked, and movement difficult.

“Ara?”

Two soft arms wrap around your head and pull you even closer, until you're rather submerged into gifts of Nurgle larger than your noggin.

“Oi, Senna, you're too loud in the morning!” Senda groans, before attempting to hit her twin with a feather pillow.

“H-hey!”

“Mika? Ah! Sorry, sorry!!!”

“Nyahahaha! Human shield!”

Your hair stands on end and the lights above flicker several times as a pulse of energy fills the rather expansive room. As the lights go out once more, they are replaced by a soft glow emanating from two orbs that slowly rise from the sheets. You know this feeling of impending doom all too well.

“Idiot mon-keigh, must you persist in ruining the peace of every morning? By Uthwe...”

“Aww shut it, knife-ear. Screw Monday, let's all just fuck until he can't keep going, fuck him some more, and than maybe go back to sleep.” Growls a voice from on top of you now. The red skin of Kaleshi comes into view, illuminated by Esh's glowing eyes. A lot of skin, with silver hair and protruding black horns and is that a vibrating egg clutched in her teeth? It isn't pancake day.

“But we can't! The ethereals got mad at me last time I didn't show up for practice... And onii-chan got mad too...”

“Bah! You need to learn to live a little, blueberry. Max won't let your big mean brother yell atcha.” A haughty voice laughs, before scooping up your head to rest it on her rather plump white thighs. Nyx, not to be outdone, feels the need to push herself against the side of your face.

“Just FYI, Lycheria, but he was only mad because it meant he missed watching the Sisters practice that day...” You mumble against soft skin, somehow actually starting to drift off once again.

“Eh? Why would he... Oh... OH...”

“Who wears short shorts? SOBs wear short shorts!”

With a ~pomf~, Lilith jumps on top of her sister who is on top of you, while the oldest of the three of your daemon waifus smooshes her funbags around your neck. Aggravated, Kaleshi attempts to shove off her youngest sister while Lilith clings hard to the sheets and cackles excitedly. The little purple daemon stops suddenly to frown in a confused look, index finger to her lip.

“Do those even count as shorts?” The youngest daemonette asks, screwing up her face in thought and clicking her fangs together as her frown deepens.

“Oi! Ooos da git dat took me flashy bitz!?!?”

“I-it wasn't me!!! S-stop krumping me!!!”

“Ehh!? Sorry Mika, bad dream!”

Karen attempts to calm Mika down from her second pillow assault of the morning while the black haired tech-priestess tries to hide herself against your side. After much debate; it was decided she couldn't wear her servitor arms to bed (after snapping Lycheria's thong in her sleep, waking everyone up), and without those arms, Mika feels rather naked. As though she weren't actually right now, anyways.

You're jerked out of your quasi-asleep state as something moves near your groin, and something... Or rather, someone cool brushes against your alarmingly attentive inquisitor. You recall now that you were dreaming about a line of bikini-clad Vostryan girls doing jumping jacks in the snow. You're not sure if that's a thing, but you make a note to find out.

Wait, they're entering as the beach volleyball team for the Imperium... Fur bikinis? You aren't sure how you feel about that.

“Target locked: initiating fellatio protocol (011011010110000101111000011010010110110101110101011011010010000001100100011100100110111101101111011 01100)”

A scarab dances excitedly over your inquisitor’s helm. If you weren't awake already, you sure as shit are now. Especially when something prepares to enter the muzzle of your Nova cannon. Prodding at the crown, pushing more and more...

  • meanwhile in the warp*

"Do it!" Slaanesh bites his bottom lip, "Jam it in!"

“Tonya! What have we told you about forcey fun time in the morning?” Lycheria scolds the Pariah, stopping her head by leaning over you and pulling the Necron off by her ponytail.

“Fuah~” The robotic erotic releases her tomb spider and lifts her head up and out from under the top cover, green eyes shining eerily from under the blanket, “That it's a team sport?”

“And?”

“That I... Need to learn how to share...” Tonya looks down dejectedly, like a child who just got scolded, their candy taken away. The concept of sharing still seems rather alien to the quite forceful Pariah, who is more than a bit selfish when it comes to you. Last week she somehow managed to lock just you and her inside one of the bathrooms. It had taken four of your best marines and a meltagun to get out.

Almost as if to fully cement that you won't be getting back to sleep, one of Mika's servo skulls comes zipping into the room at a rapid clip, bouncing off the bedpost before landing perilously in Ailia's sizable blue bust. A dangerous predicament, you know full well the crushing power of those greater knarlocs.

“Mika-chan! Mika-chan!” The skull buzzes excitedly.

“What is it, Skully??”

“Errrrrr... Well I've actually been sent to relay a message to High Lord Inquisitor Decarus!”

Making your displeasure at the intrusion well known with a series of groans; grunts, and hoo-hah, you turn and twist to face the skull. Or rather, blueberry tits. At least those are worth looking at, the skull is more annoying than anything. Maybe you should tell your marines to intercept any messages, via skull or otherwise, until at least noon or so. They'd probably follow along until someone got mad or you missed something important.

Knowing exactly what you're doing, you just wait, staring.

The little skull beams at you excitedly, and as the seconds tick by, it begins to quiver. The longer you stay silent, the more the little macabre servant shakes, teeth beginning to clatter. Still you say nothing, until the skull is vibrating so strongly that large blueberries start to bounce.

“Well, out with it.” You finally relent.

With a chirping, digitized squeal, the skull beacons a hologram message.

Oh, it's Eight. Though he's still almost the same as when you'd first met him, there have been a few changes. He's come out of his shell a bit more, he'll actually strike up a conversation every once and a while. And oh right, he's managed to grow several inches taller in the matter of a few weeks. You aren't sure exactly what happened to him (he doesn't want to talk about it), but something did, and it changed him. Even if only slightly. Might be why you were able to convince him to compete in the games.

“Is this thing on?” The young Vindicare scowls, peering close at the cameratorium. “Well, whatever.” He shrugs, leaning back, “So I got back late last night, the trip took a bit longer than expected. Navigation wanted you to know that we'll be arriving shortly. They'd tried to tell you firsthand, but apparently heard some... Things... And decided to just have me let you know. Which is why I used this. I think Ra'al is going to deliver it, wait, these can fly. Ah, never mind. Also I wanted to ask you what... Wait, why is this blinki...”

“*Message endo!*” The servo skull rattles excitedly.

Seems like the kid's got everything under control. Though you do wonder as to where he keeps running off to... Well, whatever. You'll just sleep in and...

Wait, where is she?

Plaguetits, check. Twintits, check. Techtits, check. Waaghtits, check. -4str marinetits, check. Chainaxetits, check. Washingboardlolitits, check. Tsuntits, check. Bluetits, check. Yanderetits, check.

That just leaves...

Something rustles in the doorway. Emperor preserve you.

“Hora hora? Still in bed this early? You know on Yagis V there's a saying, the early fish gets to eat the fisherman...” The sea-goddess licks her lips with a snake-like tongue as she stares at you, her long tail coiling around itself and filling up the doorway.

A chill runs down your spine, and you shiver involuntarily. You've grown used to a lot of things, recently. Dark Eldar's near-constant BDSM state of mind and ambushes, sex with another psyker which involves some really bizarre mind-shit, and even intercourse in the missionary position with the lights off while holding hands. Still, you are most certainly NOT used to the kinds of games that this one likes to play, no matter how many times you've already endured them. At least she isn't nearly as terrifying in her current form, though you know from experience that she can (and often does) change...

“Ara ara?” Nyx defensively pulls you back into her sizable bust, eyes on the transformed fish goddess currently sizing you up like a snack.

“Horaa~” Ra'alman draws it out, tilts her head, narrows her eyes.

“Ara!” Nyx snaps back, squeezing you even harder into herself. That Nurgle does know how to put em together real nice.

“...Hora?”

“Ara.” The nurglette nods, releasing you.

“What just happened?” You glance between the two.

“We agreed to take turns.”

Take turns? Two of them, maybe, but then the others get jealous and then you have to go through the hassle of daemon prince transformation and all that jazz... Not something you have time for today. You're supposed to be part of the opening ceremony for the games taking place on Yagis V. Not only that, but your girls (and Eight) are all taking part, and need to check in.

Besides, you know how Ra'al plays. You don't really feel like being eaten and played with by all manner of tentacles today. It's too early for that, you haven't even had your breakfast and oh wait it's Kaleshi's turn to cook... She always “forgets” that she's the only one who likes bloodwaffles. Though at least those don't grow wings and stingers and fly around trying to impale you like Lilith's last creation. She'd assured you she knew how to make popcorn in the microwavus, but you should have known better.

Having a harem as large as yours has both its perks as well as its downsides. On on hand, sex is more akin to running a marathon several times over than anything else. By the time you finish all of them off, you're generally ready to drink several 'nidades and pass out.

Plenty of upsides, though. Like Mika always toying around with your mechanical arm, tweaking, perfecting... And sometimes adding an entirely new weapon.

She'd slapped in the flashbang attachment two nights ago, and you still haven't given it a try. She said it would work well in getting out of sticky situations without hurting anyone, or kicking down doors and whatnot.

The insides of Ra'al are certainly what you would call a sticky situation. You're not sure exactly HOW her guts work, either. There's some crazy shit down there. A fully functional Predator tank, six different hologram stations (with all of the channels!), a baby grand piano, catgirls, a bag of lingere from the forgeworld of Yagis V... You just can't get over the constant tentacle rape down there, though.

“Come ooonnnn... We should have some funnn....” Ra'al hisses, doing her best to slither seductively toward you. Sure, that's how it always starts. Than you're screaming for your life as she swallows you whole...

Well, here goes nothing.

Right before she can get her hands on you, you retract your own. The mechanical left arm you'd earned after a really bad set of rolls inside a Necron tomb clicks as it extends another barrel in addition to the plasma cannon and flamer already hidden inside.

“Solar flare!” You activate the new device.

There's a muffled *whump!* as the gun lazilly propels a fat grenade forward. The cylinder hovers in the air for a moment (long enough for you to put on your shades, cover your ears, and open your mouth), before exploding in a brilliant light and resonating *BANG!*

The girls all shriek, but you're already on the move.

With a combat roll around Ra'al, you're out the door and into the expansive hallways beyond. One of your marines looks up from a dataslate in time to see you running toward him clad only in your bloodbowl patterned boxers.

“Sir...?”

“Morning!” You toss him a quick salute as you continue to sprint past.

Things seem to be going well, which you know by now, means things aren't going well.

“Graaaahhhhh!!!! I'm going to double vore you for that!” The snarling hiss of Ra'al snaps, and you know she's already started to transform. Maybe you should have picked a ship with smaller hallways, your personal Apocalypse class battleship is large enough to accommodate a full sized sea goddess in all of her rows-of-teeth glory.

The area grows more and more populated as you run, the nearer the command bridge that you get. Your crew go from dutifully going about their tasks to looking up in alarm at the giant monster chasing you through the ship.

Unfortunately, speed, it seems, is not on your side.

Hot on your heels now, you know there's no escape. You take solace in that she'll probably get bored in an hour or two, maybe.

“Max!”

In a flash of black metal, brilliant chrome, and screaming tires, Eight slides his bike to a stop beside you. You hop on without another word.

“Go go go goooo!!!” You hound him, and he doesn't waste time. Leaving a black trail that you're sure is seriously going to piss off whoever it is that cleans up after you, Eight gets the bike moving.

“She'll catch up at this rate, here, take this!” The young Vindicare shoves something into your chest. A hook attached to some heavy cable?

"This... This is..."

“Catch her in the lip with it and we'll snag the other end on something, that should buy us enough time to make it to the bridge!” Eight shouts back.

It would seem that everything has come full circle.

Alright, you've got this. A simple toss into the side of that giant gaping maw, and Eight will wind it around a pole or something, slowing her down enough for you to escape. It's a simple, straightforward plan. Exactly how you like it.

“Take this!” You boast, winging the hook with all of your strength (which has improved, you've been working out).

The metal hook bounces harmlessly off the armor-plated side of Ra'alman's face.

“Y-you missed?!” Eight gawks. So baffled is he, it would seem, that he barely notices the statue of the Emperor in front of the bike. Forced to send the bike sideways to slow down in time, the maneuver tosses you off of the side.

Landing hard and rolling to a stop, you know it's too late now for anything. You can feel her hot breath on your back.

Despite your desperate cry, trying to bring your flamer to bare, you're engulfed by a series of muscular, slimy tongues. Your attempt to snag yourself on the base of something, anything, is too little too late.

“Fuck!”

“Exactly what I had in mind.” Ra'al laughs.

You're wrenched back into her gullet.

Down and down into the now all-too-familiar darkness you're pulled, squeezed against warm, slimy insides. Skillfully contracting the passage, Ra'al manages to rid you of your only piece of clothing before you land in the inner chamber.

Oh hey, a Monolith? How and when did that get in here?

“It's so much more fun when you struggle...” Her voice is muffled through her own body, and you can just hear the excitement in her tone.

“Just get it over with, than, I've got things I need to do!” You growl, “You know we're supposed to be planetside pretty soon!”

“Bah, for that game thing you were talking about? How boring...”

“It isn't boring, and considering you're swimming in it, I thought you'd at least be a little excited for it.” You keep talking, hoping to stall her, but already there are tentacles dripping with ooze worming their way up your legs.

One of which hovers cautiously in front of your alarmed but awake inquisitor, before splitting open and latching on... That's new.

“Hora... Don't worry, I'll let you go after I've drained you dry...”

The insides of the tentacle begin to spin and twist, contract and vibrate. As sickened as you should be, you can't help but moan. Several more bind themselves around you, securing you tight, preventing your escape.

“Intercourse”, if this could even be described as such, lasts quite a while. Ra'al, it seems, having a great deal of fun in toying with you. You're not sure how her biology works, but she comes up with a new method or some such every few days or so. “To keep you on your toes.” She'd informed you once.

Today isn't any different.

“Yes! Spray it all over my egg sacks you dirty Commissar!”

“Wait! I've seriously run dry! There is no more plasma in there!”

“Don't lie, I know you've got at least two more shots in you...”

More slimy appendages worm themselves over you, caressing, stroking, tugging on your unarmored inquisitor.

“Hold on, hold on! That's too many tentacles, I'll...!!!!”

After a full course of tentacle delights, being rocked by multiple orgasms, and Ra'al apparently climaxing herself somehow, it's over.

You're spat back out, where you land on the metal floor of your ship, quite naked and covered in ooze. The fact that this feels quite familiar now is disturbing, as is the fact that you're quite satisfied.

“Don't look so happy about it, you disgusting pervert.” Esh scowls down at you, “Hey, scales, get changed, it's time to go!” She shouts back up at Ra'al, who begins to shift back into the form you'd gotten her after a deal with Tzeentch and Slaanesh.

Esh still hasn't forgiven you for handing over a pair of her panties to the deranged god of pleasure...

“Geeze, seriously. You're on your own for a few minutes and once I find you, it turns out you've been having a great deal of fun when you're supposed to be getting ready.”

“You're just mad you got left out.” You smirk, standing back up and doing your best to wipe off some of the ooze.

A strong wind blasts you in the face, almost knocking you over as Esh assaults you. After a few seconds, you're relatively clean.

“Angered that I was left out of whatever deranged fantasies you were just involved with? Mon-keigh, please.” She shakes her head, “Now come on.”

Taking you by the hand, the short farseer starts leading you off, probably to get some clothes on. Your crew isn't even phased as you walk by, despite having no armor save. Isn't the first time it's happened.


“Liar, liar, liar.” You tease, having a great deal of fun with it.

“It's... I didn't... Whatever! ...Stupid mon-keigh...” The tsunseer huffs, turning back away and starting to lead you along again. Despite her trying to hide it, her red face stands out even against her long red hair.

You let her keep pulling you along, knowing you're headed to your personal little armory now. You give her hand a tight squeeze, which results in a shrill squeak and Esh walking even faster.

“Inquisitor.” One of your Sergeants nods as you walk past. Your crew is made up of some of the best out there in terms of acceptance. There are still a great many in the Imperium of Man who aren't quite relaxed around xenos. You made a point to hand-pick some of the less zealously anti-xeno out there, and for the most part, the crew has grown quite relaxed around them now.

Ra'al watches you go, pulled along by the Eldar, a wide smirk on her face. Though you managed to hold on, she's far from completely satisfied yet. No, she already starts laying out a plan to snatch you up again.

“In here.” Esh pushes you forward through a large hatch.

“It's my personal armory, I know.” You chuckle, “Going to help me put my armor on?”

“J-just because it takes you so long to do it yourself, and we're running low on time!” Esh keeps pushing you along toward a large rack.

Resting there, freshly polished and sparkling clean, your armor.

The silver suit given to you by the Grey Knights themselves, the suit you wished you'd had when you'd first found yourself quite alone in the hostile environment of Yagis V, which now seems so long ago. You still can't believe how far you've come since then, how much has changed.

Reaching out, you place your hand on the cool outside of one of the purity-seal laden pauldrons. The armor feels like an old friend now, one that has been through a great deal with you.

“Come on, I'll help.” Esh remarks.

Not the first time she's helped you put on your armor, the farseer begins to do so quite expertly for an Eldar. Though when it comes to the codpiece, she averts her gaze, blushing furiously.

“Oh that? Err...”

“You were staring at my ass, weren't you? Pervert.”

After calming down, as it were, you're encased in the last few pieces of the armor. Noticeably absent is the majority of the left arm, where your mechanical arm is. Thus allowing you full use of the weapons suite inside.

“Come on, or we'll be late.” Esh almost makes it out the door before you snag her left hand. Though she blushes even harder, she doesn't attempt to pull away.

It takes you a little while to reach the hangar bay, where the smaller ship waits to swift you down to the planet. This ship quite a bit too large to actually land on Yagis V, after all.

The rest of the girls wait beside another identical one, ready to take them toward the female competitor area. You'd had to differentiate, upon finding out Kais had apparently laid out quite an elaborate plan to peep. You hadn't intended to stop him, but than Ailia had found out.

Good thing they hadn't stumbled upon your own plan.

Eight sits on the wing of the ship you'll be riding down, already halfway through a cigarette. Some of the girls have been trying to get him to quit, though with little success.

“Here.” Esh shoves something into your chest, and, startled, you accept it. A lunch box?

“Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not a fan of Kaleshi's cooking either, and I just made too much is all.” The farseer turns away before you can do anything but smirk knowingly.

“Ready to go, kid?” You glance up at Eight before he drops down to the hangar floor, flicking the cigarette but toward a cleaning servitor.

“I suppose.” He shrugs.

You watch your own girls board the ship, along with the rest of the human female athletes. Mika tosses you a small wave, and Karen a wide grin, both of which you return before stepping into your own landing craft.

Eight swings in behind you, and both of you find a seat at the front.

“Sure you don't want me to fly?” You lean up and ask the pilot.

“With all respect, Inquisitor, fuck no.”

“Fair enough.”

"Ah, you're right, you guys could probably use the practice. Well if you need me, I'll be back here."

You relax back into the comfortable seat, belting yourself in as the crew runs through pre-flight. Though in actuality, you can't help but almost shake from excitement. You're a big fan of sports, and you haven't had a chance to enjoy much of them since your own win of the superb owl.

The ship is bustling with plenty of excitement anyways, from all of the athletes seated behind you. Though that sound is cut off when the hatch behind you closes, leaving just you and Eight.

“Excited?” You look over.

“I guess?”

“Nervous?”

“No.”

You frown. He's being quiet, even for him.

“Hey Max, I didn't get a chance to ask you on the hologram, but I had a question.” Eight shifts in the seat so he can see you.

“Shoot.”

“Well a few of the Soritas on the basketball team asked me to help them out this morning, and took me into the locker room. Apparently they required assistance with opening their lockers so they could change and uh... Max, what does /ss/ mean? They kept saying that and giggling and looking at me the whole time I was opening lockers...”

Oh boy, that is not the kind of question you'd expected. Something about competition rules or something, but not that.

“I... Err... Hmmm...” You aren't exactly sure how to respond to that.

You think hard, rubbing the stubble on your chin with your mechanical hand. Eight, for all he is, is still pretty damn young. Somewhere about fourteen, maybe fifteen, no one knows his birthday. He does act a lot more mature than his age, that's for sure. He still doesn't know much about the world outside of the one he was raised in, as a Vindicare. While he's a sure-shot with everything you've seen him use, he's still learning how to settle in to his current life.

Is he even aware of girls yet? Well he was pretty damn awkward around Niut, Tzeentch's daemonette daughter, last week at dinner. You think something must have happened between them, but you decided against prodding. How old were you the first time you started screwing around, chasing the skirts of Helena's friends? Probably about his age, you think.

The most interaction he's had with the opposite sex is being around your girls, most of whom act quite motherly toward him. Though generally that only throws him off even more...

“I... Err... Hmmm...” You think hard about what to say to that.

“Well you see, when an older woman... Or women, in your case, love a younger boy very much they uh... They do a special hug and so you give them the inquisitor... See they want to make you put your power sword inside their carapace... You uhh, penetrate their frontal armor, or rear I guess sometimes and then shoot your plasma...” Fuck, how did your mom give you the “Squigs and the Vespids” speech? Wait, she didn't. Damn you aren't really cut out for this. Eight's knowledge of human and xeno biology probably ends at where best to shoot or cut them.

Eight only looks more and more confused as he tries to follow along.

“Though since they are older they might want to use their mouth or something first to play with you a bit maybe. Especially if there's more than one... See, you'll dock your ship in their hangar...”

“I don't get it. I give them you? I need a power sword and plasma pistol? It sure sounds like one of the bizarre admech rituals or something, but I'm a Vindicare. We don't really do that kind of thing. Why do they want me to penetrate their armor? I don't want to kill any of them... And now I need a ship?” He frowns, scratching his head.

“No, see your inquisitor and power sword are your... You know, your uhh... Gun.”

“My Exitus rifle? But it's not really suited for melee combat, and it doesn't shoot plasma, Max.”

“No like, you've got your rifle and your gun, right?”

“The Exitus pistol? That still doesn't shoot plasma. I've got my knife, will that work in place of the power sword?”

Shit, where's Nyx or Kaleshi or Lycheria when you need them? Oh right, on a different damn ship.

“No it isn't about fighting and you won't need any weapons except the one you were born with. Though you might want to bring protection... Though I guess the sisters mostly just love each other... Yeah bring protection, don't want to be a dad at your age.”

“My suit isn't very protective, though. Should I get a suit of power armor rigged up for me? How would not having armor make me a dad?” Eight shakes his head.

“See the protection will stop your plasma...”

“I still don't have a plasma weapon.”

“From getting inside them and making a baby...”

“Babies are made out of plasma!?” Eight jerks upright, clearly very shocked by this new misinformation.

“And since it's your first time it would make you last longer, though they probably wouldn't let you get away even if you shot early...”

“I never shoot until it's the right time.”

“By Terra this is difficult... That thing between your legs, kid. That's what they want. They want to put that in between their legs, or breasts, or buttcheeks, or their mouth. Maybe use their feet on it if that's what they are into... What I'm trying to say is that is a gun, Eight. A gun that shoots bullets that turn into babies if they hit the right target.”

Eight, now looking VERY alarmed, sits up, eyes wide.

“That? They want THAT?! It shoots PLASMA?!?!”

“What? No it isn't plasma, not like what you're thinking. Gah... Just make sure to pull out and it should all be fine, I guess. They're older than you, they can show you the ropes.”

“I... I don't even...” Eight slumps down in his seat, shaking his head, "The world out here is confusing and strange..."

Ah well, you think he gets it.

The craft bucks as it enters the atmosphere of Yagis V, shaking during the fast decent toward the planet surface. A seatbelt light comes on, which you ignore. You're an Inquisitor, a high ranking one at that, you don't take orders from any light.

“Five out from drop zone. Are you prepared, Inquisitor?” The copilot turns to ask.

“I'm Max Decarus, I am always ready.”

You pull open the side door of the craft, wind whipping in, howling. You have to squint your eyes, but gazing out you can see it. The massive olympic stadium, constructed just for this coming series of events. It has everything. A pool, a beach, cocaine, changing rooms with a special underground peeking area... Everything.

Now you just have to get down to it.

Which you start doing by leaping out of the craft, still several thousand feet above the ground.

“We've just received word that the opening ceremony is about to begin... And oh yes, there it is, there's the ship!”

“Just on schedule, Bob.” “Now whats... Someone jumped out! Is that? Yes, yes it is! That's Decarus right there!”

“Those just tuning in, this is the official kickoff to the games, and that is one of this years superb owl champions. You'll remember he took the Daemons to victory over the Orks, for just a great double overtime finish!”

“Too right, Keith, that was a great game. Still, not sure exactly what Decarus has planned here. As you can see on the camera now, there's no jump pack or anything on the back of his armor.”

It's all according to plan, it's all according to plan... You keep repeating those words inside your head as you plummet faster and faster, the stadium rushing up toward you.

You'd helped formulate the start of the games, offering your (often unwelcome) opinion into matters that you often knew nothing about. For instance, insisting that the Tau woman’s beach volleyball team wear white bikinis to clash against their purple skin.

Or that you thought it would be a great start to the games to leap out of a perfectly good aircraft, lacking any sort of thruster perhaps.

Now you just need your partner...

A glint of gold out of the corner of your eye...

Streaming a trail of brilliant sparkling gold, as though a god falling from the sky... Well, literally a god falling from the sky. Black hair whipping in the wind, that feelgood smile on his face.

“Hey dude, gnarly wind out here today. You ready for this, man?”

“Ready whenever you are, Emps.” You tell him, after adjusting your trusted, priceless and irreplaceable Commissar hat. The same that you donned what feels like so long ago.

“Groovy.”

Two large surfboards appear under each of the Emperor's arms, one of which he extends toward you. You snag it, and give the board a look. The bottom is painted up with you standing atop a mound of slain Malal chaos marines, all of your girls in skimpy clothing gathered around you while you extend the sword Nurgle gave you toward the sky.

The Emperor's board has a depiction of him surfing alongside Gork and Mork while the two Ork gods appear to be arguing via choppas as to which color is truly a better surfboard.

Time to give them a show.

Shoving the board under your feet, you know exactly what happens next.

The Emperor, truly godlike, summons up his powers. In an instant, it feels as though there is actually surf under your board.

“Lets do eeettt!!!”

Exactly like you'd mapped out, both of you start to surf. The boards trail contrails of blue energy across the sky in your wake as you and the Emperor weave back and forth, descending toward the middle of the stadium.

At planned intervals, the two of you spin around so you're facing the ground. As he assured you, your feet don't leave the board. It's a strange feeling, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't having one hell of a time.

You cross paths, quicker and quicker, until you're nearly at the ground. At the very last second, right before hitting the turf, the Emperor makes a comfortable bubble of air that eases the two of you down to the ground, in the middle of the massive stadium. The crowd erupts into noise. Literally, in some cases, as you spot a Noise marine actually explode.

The Emperor holds up his hands after a few moments, and clears his throat. When he speaks, it is with a resounding, deep tone. One that everyone in the stadium can hear.

“Dudes! It's like, the Olympics! Are you all ready for this?”

A massive roar actually vibrates the ground under your feet, it's deafening, so loud you can't even hear your own inner monologue which consists of 50% maniacal laughter.

“Alright! So then let's start this thing, dudes!” The Emperor claps his hands, and the first event appears on the massive screens above each end of the stadium.


Event 1 – Men's 100m cocaine

You figured it would be a great way to kick off the games, as it's a high-energy event that every crowd should love watching. The athletes are all top-notch, the best of the best, gathered for one reason and one reason only.

To prove who can finish the line fastest.

Another reason you wanted it first? Well, you're the head coach of the Daemon team.

Now, where's your star athlete...?

Glancing around, it takes only a moment to spot him. You just have to follow the sounds of the collective orgasms of a hundred daemonettes.

“I AM SO FUCKING READY FOR THIS SHIT! DAMN!” The flaming headed daemon screams as he roars out into the field on his bike. There are literally so many daemonettes clinging to him and his bike that they go flying off one by one as he whips through the field.

“You sure you're all set?” You ask as he gets off the bike and finishes off the last daemonette before sending her away with a loud smack to the rump, which leaves a red hand print on her blue behind.

“YEP, BEEN PRACTICING *sniff* ALL MORNING LONG!” Doomrider meets your fist with his.

The announcers list off the rest of the athletes as they make their way onto the field. Only three others even survived the cuts, a Dark Eldar, a Hive Tyrant, and an Eversor. A lot of others had competed, but either hadn't qualified or had died of cardiac complications.

You know he's ready, you've been helping him train. Which totally isn't why you're rubbing at your nose right now, or anything.

As far as the competition goes, you know he's got some real challengers here. That Dark Eldar kid has one hell of a snout on him, and you aren't even sure if the Tyranid is affected by cocaine. There's also a rumor that the Eversor will self destruct if he loses.

“Athletes, take your positions!” Comes the announcement.

“WISH ME LUCK, TIME FOR SOME NOSE CANDY!” Doomrider grins madly, and, tires throwing up a shower of turf, drives his bike over to the starting line.

Damn, that's a whole lot of snow. 100m of it, all in one large semi curved line of a standard and very precise two centimeters wide. A few last tech priests finish their standard check, and nod their approval.

Hopping off his bike, Doomrider starts with his breathing exercises like he'd trained. You can't help but feel anxious, he may not be human but dammit you want him to bring home the gold.

The other contestants take their places. The Dark Eldar looking very in-the-zone, the Hive Tyrant looking... Well... Like a Hive Tyrant, you suppose... The Eversor still won't put down that knife in his hand, stabbed the last person who tried to take it from him.

The line judge raises a bolt pistol to the air.

“On your mark, get set...” *BANG!*

The shot starts it, and the snorting begins. Nose to the track, each of the contestants concentrates hard on the snow in front of them. Despite his serious look the Dark Eldar quickly falls behind. You hear a very familiar “Damn it, Parker! Snort faster!” from the VIP box as he falls further and further back.

After the first 25m, the Hive Tyrant peels off of the line and starts chasing a terrified group of tech-priests around the filed. A large D appears next to where his name should be, but as no one knows it's name, there is simply a picture.

A two-man race now and it's nose and nose. Doomrider is literally inhaling constantly, his nose like a vacuum cleaner, like a fever that's only prescription is more cocaine. Still, the Eversor isn't backing down.

“It can't be helped, use THAT!” You shout out to your daemon friend.

At your command, he starts using both nostrils. This is enough to put him in the lead down the last 40 or so meters, and he at last powers through the final 10m home stretch like a champion.

“I AM SO FUCKING ALIVE!” Doomrider screams as he continues on the path, toward a section of stadium full of all color and size of daemonette. You think you even see a Keeper of Secrets in there, but Doomrider is unlikely to care.

“He's goona blow!” You hear a tech-priest shout as he dives to the ground.

The Eversor is standing at the end of where his line was, raising his arms to the sky.

“WWWWRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”

You hit the deck just as the explosion washes across the field, feeling the hot air above you. As the last of it dies down, you check your hat and find everything in order.

The medal ceremony for the first event makes you pretty damn happy that this happened. You'd had your concerns, thinking maybe it wouldn't be very good, but it turned out to be a lot of fun already.

Doomrider had to be pulled from the middle of a pile, and those who did it purportedly lost every shred of sanity from what they witnessed. The large daemon grins as he holds the medal up for the crowd to see, which just makes the same section of daemonettes go crazy again.

Unsure of what to do, as the Eversor had technically placed second, the medal is just set on the middle tier step. So far, all that's been found of the assassin is a charred piece of meat, which was set next to the medal.

The Dark Eldar accepts the bronze, but clearly isn't happy about it. From the VIP box you hear another shout, “Parker! Parker, tell Parker that he sucks and not to come back!”

You'll have to personally congratulate Doomrider later, it would seem, as he is apparently engaging in an orgy with the entirety of the Slaanesh section.

“What a race Keith, what a race.”

“Too true, Bob. Haven't seen a race like that since college, damn good stuff right there. *snort*”

“...Thinking about competing there, Bob?”

“No idea what you're talking about, Keith. What a show though, folks, what a show. Next up is a new event to the games, here by popular demand.”

“That's right, Bob. Now some of you might not know what “Ara-ing” is, and truth be told, prior to this game I didn't either.”

“I still don't really understand it, Keith, but watching the qualifiers did give me some kind of erection, not going to lie.”

“I think we all got that, Bob.”


Since you're not coaching this one, you decide to go to the VIP section to sit with Kaleshi and Lilith to watch their oldest sister compete. Nyx has a better coach, anyways, as Isha was apparently a renowned Ara champion a while back.

You have to make your way past Vect, who nods with a “Parker” as you walk to the seat saved for you.

“Great match, huh girls?” You grin, sitting down between Lilith and Kaleshi.

“Kyaahhh!” Kaleshi grits her teeth, eyes clamped shut after downing a long swig from a can, “Damn right it was!”

“Lilith wants to try that race!”

“Err... Maybe when you're older... Besides, you're competing in gymnastics, remember?”

“Cocaine gymnastics?”

“What? I... No?”

“Baww...” The little blue daemonette pouts, bottom lip protruding as she lowers her gaze down to her feet, which stop swinging back and forth.

“If you're good this whole time, I promise we'll all go to Loliconia after it's finished, okay?” You tell the disappointed little daemonette, who brightens up at your words.

“Really?!”

“Really.”

“Yay!” Lilith cheers, sitting back down and kicking her feet at an even more rapid pace than she was before.

Looking around, you spot Eight a row behind you, rather slumped down in his seat and looking very uncomfortable. It isn't hard to spot why.

“Jiiii~.....” Niut, a row behind him, is staring hard at the back of the young Vindicare's head. Eight only slumps down more.

Ah those crazy kids and their stalkers.


Event 2 - Ara'ing

“Big sis!” Lilith almost leaps out box and onto the turf before you grab the back of her skirt and haul her back in. Sure enough, Nyx enters the stadium alongside her competition.

The Nurgle section bellows in what you think is cheering, though it's rather hard to tell. The big god himself is cheering, though, while sloppily drinking two-fisted.

Nyx makes her way over to the VIP box, where you have a front row seat, and stops in front of you.

“If I win, you're going to take me on a date, o-kay ~<3?” She smiles and winks right at you, and you're pretty sure you felt a pain in your chest for a second there.

“Of course.”

“Contestants, to your positions!” Comes the announcement over the system.

“Wish me luck.” Nyx waves her fingers and walks over to meet her competition.

The most dangerous and certainly the one most expected to win is a Sorita with long, smooth black hair. A bit older than Lycheria, but certainly no less beautiful, and even you can't help but stare at her impressive rack. It might even rival Nyx's.

Another apt competitor, a MILFy Eldar who looks a lot like what you'd expect an older Esh to look like, doesn't stand as idle as the Sorita. Instead she smiles, as though listening to a song only she can hear, shaking her hips ever so slightly back and forth, swishing her skirt side to side.

There are three others competing, a Tau, a Dark Eldar, and a Necron.

Just a few moments after the first round begins, you're certain you've never heard so many Aras in your life. Nyx quickly gets the best of the Tau, and advances to the next stage.

Soon enough, it's down to the last two.

Nyx and the Sorita.

“Contestants... Begin!”

“Ara ara, how cute.” Nyx smiles, tilting her head and batting her eyes.

“A classic start to this final round, John, wouldn't you say? Just a classic, great opener there by Nyx for the Daemons.”

“That's right, Jim. See the key to a great game of bloodbowl is to move the chains.”

“Not sure we're watching the same thing here, John.”

“Tch, you're not bad.” The Sorita smirks, “Lets try this, then.”

“Ara ara, you want to be purged by an old sister like me?” She says as though surprised, glancing away and putting a fist up to her lips.

“Wow! Now that was a great one there, John! We were told we'd see some really great stuff out of her tonight and so far she has really lived up to the hype!”

“It's just a great game of bloodbowl tonight, Jim. The trick is to always have a good offense going to keep your defenders off of the field so you can score points.”

Nyx bites her lip, hard in thought. She knows if she screws up here, that will be the end of it, she'll lose. The Sorita across from her smirks, thinking she has this well in the bag.

She knows there's only one way to win this. It's risky as all hell, but it's her only shot. She clears her throat, and readies herself for the moment that will either make or break her chance at the gold.

Quickly putting all four of her fingetips to her lips, raising her eyebrows in surprise and taking a step back, she goes for it.

“Ara ara ara?!”

The crowd goes insane.

“There's no way! No way did that just happen! You're seeing history here tonight, folks, real history for this sport! The famed triple ara and she pulls it off with the surprise flourish! Simply brilliant!”

“You're right, Jim. That was a great touchdown, they really made use of the I-formation there.”

“Yeah it wa... John, are you seriously even watching? Do you even know what's going on, John?”

“I never thought I'd see the Squats make it to the playoffs, but this team has come a long way tonight, Jim. Just a combination of great offense and defense for these tough little guys tonight. Great game of bloodbowl.”

Kaleshi stands up on the top of her seat, screaming her lungs out. “You crazy bitch, I love you!”

After several deafening minutes, the officials manage to get the stadium to quiet down. After all, the judges have to weigh in.

“They're dead, Jim.” The official takes the last pulse and shakes his head.

“Well there you have it, folks! Daemons take the gold here tonight, but the sisters snag the silver! Not a bad showing for the Tau either, you've gotta remember they are new to this game, nothing wrong with taking a bronze on your first Olympic showing ever.”

Nyx comes bounding over to the VIP box, the buttons on her shirt down to a single wound from the assault phase of her massive bouncing gifts of Nurgle.

“I did it, I did it!” She cheers, before leaping right into your arms.

You don't protest, not at all. It's always great to see your girls happy, which also usually results in great things for you. This probably won't be any exception.

“Now I just need to figure out where you're taking me...” Nyx beams.

“Loliconia!” Lilith shouts, beating her fists against her armrests.

“We'll all go there together, I'm talking about something more... Private...” Your nurglette winks at you, pressing her bosom against your armor that you are now regretting wearing.

Oh yes, great things.


Event 3 - Women's Beach volleyball

Next up is the event that you've really been looking forward to. Ah yes, beach volleyball, mmm.... Err... The sport! You care about the sport! And the... It's played with rackets, right? No? Well you care about the competition itself, because you like swimsu... Sports!

You try to think of something else, like how your sister of all people managed to make it to the 50m dash, but find it almost impossible. You'll have to ask her when she runs, which is the next event.

You make your way toward the play area with a Dark Eldar twin on either side of you, each clutching one of your arms.

“Omigawsh Senda, like, can you believe we're here?!”

“Calm down or you'll blow all of your energy before the match, Senna.”

“Eh? Well then I'd just have to have Maxy here fill me back up. Nishishi...” You try to concentrate on their conversation, you really REALLY do. But it's impossible. No matter what you do, though, you just can't look away. Not when they are wearing those...

No matter how you look at it, those really can't be suited for athletics. They will work, but so would a one piece or something. Not that you're complaining, at all. This might just be your favorite sport...

Pure thoughts, Max! Now isn't the time to unleash the inquisitor's wrath!

The twins, having been practicing quite fervently, are very browned up. Quite a bit different than their usual pale skin, but carrying its own pleasantness. Stealing your focus away from everything, though, are their “uniforms”.

Which consist of brilliant green tops that barely manage to contain their modest but shapely breasts. As great as that is, however, you're more concerned with the bottoms. Incredibly tight green bottoms that seem to ride up no matter how many times they stop to adjust them back down.

“Max is staring.”

“Well of course he is, don't you remember why we picked these out?”

“I'm just making sure your asse... Uniforms, are all set!” You snap your eyes forward, though they quickly rotate on their own back down.

You know the twins are playing a tough team, which is why they've really been practicing. As the succubus twins, they have a reputation to uphold.

Though they also got a universe-renowned coach because Vect is almost made of money...

Ah yes, the Vostroyan. Were it not for who these two delicious brown DE girls were, you might well be rooting for those snow guard girls.

Especially after seeing them. Damn.

The pair stand, ready to play already, on the sand near the net. You didn't think they'd actually do it, that there was no way, but sure enough...

“Fur bikinis?” Senda raises an eyebrow.

“Oooh... I kinda want one.” Senna rubs her chin and nods in approval.

You can't help but approve yourself. You thought they would maybe look tacky, like something out of a bad holovid. Instead, they really do match up well. The dyed red fur with gold accents really clashes with their very pale white skin and black hair. The two of them are busy stretching, which means your imagination doesn't have to work too hard.

The taller of the two, with two long braids that go down to her thighs, raises her arms over her head and leans back. Toward you. Giving you a great look down into the great white fjord.

The other, a bit shorter but thicker, reaches down to touch her toes. Despite being fur, you can still very clearly make out the lines as she stretches.

“Max is staring at them now.”

“Traitor.”

“I was not! The one is a bit taller than the two of you, so keep an eye on that, probably has one hell of a vertical.”

“Anyways...” You cough and turn to face them, “Shouldn't you two stretch out, too?”

“Oh don't worry about us, you stretched us out pretty well earlier.” Senna grins.

“I what?”

“I told you that you used too much of that stuff, Senda.”

“I know, I know.” The other twin shrugs, “It worked out well for us, at least.”

You sigh. This isn't the first time they've drugged you so much that you don't remember what happened, and you doubt it will be the last.

“If you're going to drug me without my knowledge, at least make sure I'll remember the romp afterward, otherwise it's no fun.”

“Right, right.” The twins repeat in unison.

“Now...” You smack each of them on the ass, both twins crying out and jumping up, “Go actually stretch out! I want you to win this thing!”

“You just want to watch.” Senda smirks.

“Better take us somewhere nice if we win!” Senna grins before doing three backflips to land in the sand.

“Sure.” You nod. Though if all of the girls try to make this same kind of deal, your marines are going to get angry with you. They don't mind when you ditch work every once and a while, but it's difficult for them to do anything when you've taken the ship on a joyride to some tropical planet. Not that you really care, because you're the Inquisitor and your word is law, but you like to be on good relations with your men.

“You are ze succoobus sisters, ya?” The taller of the Vostroyan approaches the twins, extending a hand, “Ve are pleased to be making your acquaintance.”

Senna eagerly snatches her hand and shakes it vigorously, “So you've heard of us?”

“Yes, ve saw on ze holo of vehn you fought on zis planet. You fought very vell.”

“T-thanks...” Senna uncharacteristically blushes at the complement.

The official steps in and motions to the refs, who all nod.

“Ladies, it's time to start the match. Inquisitor, if you don't mind.” The head official motions for you to step off the sand.

“Good luck, win this!” You put one hand on each of the twins heads and grin, before heading off for the VIP box.

Noticing Ailia waving, you leap up and take a seat between her and Esh.

“Here to cheer on your dark sisters, eh?” You poke the tsunseer in the side, and she turns away with a “Hmph.”

“Aaah! I'm so excited! Do your best!” Ailia shouts out toward the twins.

“Oh hey, it's you!”

“Huh?” Eight turns around, and you do as well. He seems to recognize the younger Dark Eldar girl grinning in front of him. Another brown one, it seems. Wait, you recognize her... Teach's daughter.

“Long time no see, Eight! Get your fun back, yet?” She crosses her arms and continues to stare down at him.

“Err...”

“Whats the matter? Gyrinx gotcher tongue?” The girl leans down to within inches of Eights face, her long dark hair cascading down her shoulders. She hovers there for a moment, before frowning, “You don't remember my name, do you?”

“You never told me.”

“Ah? I didn't? It's Shavia! Shavia Teach! You can just call me Sha! Usually I just let my friends call me that, but you're cute, so I'll let you, too!” She stands back up, grinning wide again, “Can I sit next to you?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” The Vindicare nods, glancing over at her as she sits down next to him.

“Oh?” Ailia says quietly though a small smile, watching the two of them.

“Oh Emprah I hope he doesn't misunderstand anything I told him earlier...” You lament not going into more detail, rubbing your temples.

Esh jabs you in the side, “If it was YOU explaining it, I'm sure he doesn't understand ANY of it.”

“I'd like to see you do any better.”

“Tch, I'm certain I could explain ANYTHING better than you, idiot mon-keigh.”

“I was explaining how to give a girl the dick.”

Esh accidentally inhales as she drinks, coughing into her arm, her face red and eyes watering.

“You were WHAT?!” She finally manages in between coughing fits, glaring over at you.

“Long story, but it was time for him to know. So I tried to lay it out for him.”

“And how did that turn out?”

“He thinks his thing shoots plasma.”

The Eldar finally stops coughing and sighs loudly, placing her face in her palm. “That IS how things would wind up, isn't it...”

A whistle blows, signifying the start of the match. It's Senna's serve, and she starts off with a strong one. The shorter of the Vostroyan girls has to dive to reach it, but manages to keep it alive for her partner, who sends it back over with a hard spike.

“Got it!” Senda leaps forwards, digging and sending the ball back up. The way she bends gives you a very nice view of her backside, and every time you see it, it's almost like you'd forgotten how wide her hips really are.

With a shout, Senna leaps as high as she can, and spikes it just as hard as the Vostroyan had. This time, however, she manages to send it right into the sand.

“Yes!” The twins cry, exchanging a high-five.

The shorter of the Vostroyan girls turns to watch the score change as she brushes the sand off of her cleavage. It takes her several attempts, and you swallow hard as you watch. You're really glad you decided to wear the specialized monocle that Mika made for you. Mostly because it has both a “zoom” and “record” function. You'll just have to encrypt the footage and hide it somewhere...

“Nice spike.” The taller one says, before pumping a fist, “But ve von't lose so easy.”

“Hoo?” Senda smirks, bending down as the Vostroyan prepare to serve. She really has some nice assets on her, both of them do. It's probably because they are the most active of your harem, always on the move, always doing something.

Which usually means your tech-priests are busy fixing something...

The match continues through several tough sets. Though truth be told, you forget a short while into it about what's actually going on in the game itself. You're much more interested in watching how those bottoms just. keep. riding. up. It even starts happening to the Vostroyan pair, who pay more mind to it than the twins.

Maybe they don't really mind, must be all of the rope bondage...

So you're shocked when you see that it's all tied up in the fifth set, and the game is down to its final moments. Both sets of girls are sweating profusely now, drops dripping down their smooth skin. Their suits are becoming damp now, which only results in them sticking even more.

The shorter Vostroyan fails a bump, and the ball hangs precariously right over the net as both Senna and the taller Vostroyan leap for it. It's all come down to this.

The Vostroyan girl reaches it first, and a gasp goes through the Dark Eldar side as her fist meets the ball. The collective air grows heavy as the tall, furkini clad guardgirl spikes hard.

You have no time to react as the ball takes a very strange angle, coming in fast. Too fast.

“Watch out!” Ailia shouts, but there's just no way you could move that fast, not confined in these small seats.

The heavy volleyball hits you full-force in the face, actually knocking your head against the back of your armor. It all seems to happen in slow motion.

As does the special monacle that Mika made shattering into pieces. You watch each one as they fly away, pieces that once contained your hopes, dreams, and high definition footage of bouncing asses. You think, for a moment, that the memory card might perhaps survive...

Until it lands right on Doomrider's skull. That glorious, flaming skull.

“Nnnnoooooo!!!” You yell, reaching out in slow motion as you watch the card slowly melt to nothing.

“Nooooooo!!!” You scream again, falling to your knees as you curse the cruel gods.

“We woooonnn!!!!” Senna and Senda cry, jumping up and down on the sand. Even all of that bouncing T&A can't get you over the loss of that device.

Too Legit to Quit[edit]

Too busy despairing over the loss of his monocle and memory card, Max does not notice the sharp change in the surrounding psychic energies.

On a patch of earth far from the stadium the ground begins to crackle and swarm with warp energies. The earth begins to float and crumble. Then, with a violent burst of foul power a skeleton starts to assemble itself. The energies spin wildly around the skeleton spinning sinew and flesh around the bones. With another violent spasm of energy the body is clad in lustrous black and gold armor crackling with dark lightning.

The freshly born creature comes to life and as it opens its eyes in a furious rage bellows

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY AAAAARRRRRMMMMSSSSSS??!?!?!!"

The shock of the sound wave bleaches the land of all life for a 5-mile radius.

Hearing deafening roar, the scattered warbands of Malal's army know – Abaddon the Despoiler has returned. The splintered groups flock to the source of the psychic beacon, eager to wreak their terrible revenge.

"...uuunnnnnwooorrrrthhyyyyyy..."

Confused, Abaddon looks around for the source of the whispering in his ear.

"Show yourself coward! Abaddon fears no man, monster, or xenos!"

The voice becomes louder and malevolent.

"Then how about a GOD, Failbaddon?"

A chill running down his spine, Abaddon recognizes the voice. Still angry, with noticeable trepidation he shouts to the open air

"I did as you asked! Why have you forsaken my arms?! and NEVER AGAIN CALL ME FAILBADDON!"

"Your MASTER will call you whatever he pleases!"

Agony wracks Abaddon's body as his organs are crushed by invisible hands. Pressure begins building in his head until his eyes all but burst from his skull. Blood begins trailing from his ears and nose as the sheer anguish begins to overcome his newfound life.

"Your arms will return when you have redeemed yourself. I trust you will find a worthy sacrifice."

Through bloddy, gritted teeth Abaddon utters but a single word:

"Maximus."


Event 4 – Powerlifting

Head between his knees, Max mourns the loss of his precious monocle. Mika might be able to whip up another one, but your precious video of the perfect triple ara and the fur-clad snow guards is forever gone.

"We won, Max!" Senna squeals. Both girls run over and take an arm.

"You'd better make good on your promise." Senda reminds him.

The twins plant a kiss on either cheek as they make their way to the showers, skipping in joy at their victory. You take a good long look at their gorgeously tanned bodies in the brilliant green "uniforms."

Hearing them announce the next event, you turn towards the field.

As you lift your face it is greeted a pastel, bikini-wearing ass which you realize could belong to none other than-

"Perverted MON-KEIGH!!!"

Before you can finish your thought you catch a familiar hand to the face.

"Esh? What are you doing in that?!"

Esh is clad in nothing more than a white bikini, reminiscent of the "undersuit" she wore in your first encounter. Her long, red hair is tied into a high ponytail which ends at her beautiful round-

Another hand makes contact with your face.

"I can't believe you forgot this was my event! I've been practicing for weeks!" Esh dejectedly proclaims.

As she storms off towards the field you can't take your eyes off of her. It's rare that you get this kind of view outside the bedroom. Long red hair, toned Eldar physique, narrow waist, and voluptuous bottom moving in a hauntingly beautiful elegance. You can't stop staring as her bikini bottom keeps riding up and exposes more of her incredible-

"Stop looking!"

A blast of psychic energy knocks you clean onto your ass. Esh fixes her bottom and makes her way to the next event.

"Are you okay?" asks Ailia as she helps you back up into your seat. You again regret wearing the power armor that rests between your arm and her ample bosom,

Still dazed from volleyball to the face, you are unsure what Esh could be doing in a power lifting competition.

"Hello everyone, it's time for the next event—Power lifting! That's right, power lifting—where it's mind over matter. Each psyker will attempt to lift the heaviest object possible with nothing more than their minds. Whoever can lift the most weight with their mind is the winner! To ensure that no psychic boosting equipment is being used each athlete is wearing the bare minimum." For once, you thank John Madden's blaringly obvious commentating as everything begins to make sense again.

You survey Esh's competition from your seat. You see a Thousand Sons Sorcerer clad in power armor. There's a female Dark Eldar wearing very little who is stretching, giving the crowd quite a view as she does. You see what you can only guess is some kind of Tzeentch daemon and a very uncomfortable looking Grey Knight.

In front of them is a colossal statue in the Emprah's likeness. Across the base of the statue it reads "5000 lbs."

The sorcerer is the first to go. He steps towards the statue as his armor begins to crackle with warp energy. His eyes glow with an intensifying light as he summons forth the power of the warp. The statue begins to shake, only a little at first. Slowly but surely the ground begins to groan as the weight is being lifted. It's looking good but energy starts flooding out of the joints of his armor as he strains to budge the effigy. The sorcerer struggles to keep focus but to no avail as he bursts in a brilliant light of power. His armor falls to the ground in pieces. A light breeze carries off the dust that was once human.

"And that's the way the cookie crumbles!" John Madden blurts.

You hear someone get slapped over the speakers.

The Tzeentch daemon is the next to step up. It begins chanting all sorts of horrible verses with a a voice like nails on a chalkboard. Its hands begin glow with an unnatural light. The statue glows with the same light and effortlessly comes off of the ground.

"3, 2, 1, good!" As the daemon releases its hold, the statue comes crashing down which sends a rumble throughout the stadium You bite your lip as you watch Ailia's supple sweater kittens jiggle against the power armor. You're not sure why you're still wearing this thing. Three times now you've missed out.

Your head snaps towards the field and away from the xenos funbags as you hear the crowd shout in dismay.

The Grey Knight is up next but he isn't using his powers to lift the statue, but to attack the Tzeentch daemon. With a screech the daemon is smeared from the face of the Yagis V.

"YOU MONSTER! THAT WAS NOT PLANNED" Tzeentch shrieks from the crowd. Lightning rips from her fingertips and completely obliterates the Knight.

The Emprah is pulling Tzeentch back, trying to calm her down. A deafening cacophony of cheers and boos rock the stadium, causing several more noise marines to explode in ecstasy. Khorne is watching from the stands completely sloshed and can't help but enjoy the wanton carnage.

"ENCORE" he cheers.

Trolling[edit]

"I've been taking it too easy on you guys I see...... HUE HUE HUE HUE HUE HUE HUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEH UEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHUEHU EHUE"

- Papa-N, on Anon thinking the rape train has brakes


HUEHUEHUE[edit]

Or it would be, if you knew how to surf.

But you don't. Not really.

"Dude, watch out!"

Too late, you hit the ground at terminal velocity and fail every save on your sheet.

But somehow, you open your eyes... It's difficult, your lids heavy.

You hear something, muffled, though perhaps it's just your head that is fuzzy. You can't quite make it out, though the pitch is growing more and more.

"brbrbrbrbr..."

You strain your ears, blinking, trying to clear your mind.

"BrBrBrBrBrBr..."

Attempting to move, you try to push yourself more upright. For some reason, you're rather bent over at the waist and oh Terra why are you naked? Though more importantly...

WHERE IS YOUR INQUISITOR AND WHY DO YOU HAVE LADY PARTS?!

All too late, you realize it.

"BR BR BR BR BR BR BR BRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBR!!!!" A stream of Noise marines comes filing into the room, lead by none other than futa Lycheria herself.

"N-Nooo!!!" You scream, your voice high and girlish. Wrists bound tight in a stockade, you can't even cover your large heresybags.

"Hue hue hue! Did you think you'd seen the last of me?!" Lycheria cackles, stepping behind you and slapping you on the ass with something that almost assuredly was not her hand.

"W-wait, please! L-let me go!" You plead, struggling even harder against your bonds as something prods your rear hatch. You're a light vehicle, you don't have the kind of armor to withstand such penetration!

"Let you go? Hear that boys? She wants to be let go!" The sadistic Sorita laughs even harder, and the Noise marines increase the speed and volume of their terrible song.

"BRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBR!!!!!!!"

You fail the roll, and the attack penetrates.

"Hnnggg!!!" You clench your teeth as it goes in dry. Your crew struggles valiantly to close the last bulkhead, but are incapacitated before they can.

"Hahh... It's been too long..." Lycheria moans, starting to move now.

"S-stop! Take it out! Take it out!" You plead, knowing full well that it's entirely futile.

"While your whining certainly turns me on, it's time to put an end to it. Boys, if you will..." Lycheria snaps her fingers, and the Noise marines move in. You clench your teeth, but they are just too strong, wrenching your jaw open and shoving themselves inside your virgin mouth pussy.

"After all, my dear, you should know by now....!!!" Lycheria bucks her hips as she fires her plasma, completely demolishing your last few sanity points, "The rape train has no brakes. NEXT!"

Original Thread[edit]

Thread I: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/20289345/