The Cardinal Four Part Two v1.09 Tags: Commissar x Plaguebearer, anal, exhibition, Bloodletter x Commissar x Plaguebearer, threesome, double penetration, cultist x guardsman, copious fluids, dubcon, long tongue Synopsis: The Bloodletter battles the Daemonette for dominance and it turns into hatesex. The lady commissar attempts her escape only to be captured by the Plaguebearer and subjected to anal while watching her men slip into greater depravity. Once the Bloodletter is done with the Daemonette, he joins in on the fun with the Plaguebearer, screwing the woman's brains out. She was finally free, but she was not out of the woods just yet. The commissar Diana glanced around and saw the loyal bitch of the Prince of Chaos already approaching her. She struggled to clamber to her feet, diving towards the nearby knife, only for the chain to catch and send her collapsing to the ground. She tried to yank on it and drag the hulking body closer to her goal, but he was far too heavy for her to budge. She spun around, kicking her bare foot out to try and reach the weapon. Her toes barely brushed over the blade, and she tried to pull it towards her, succeeding in sliding it a few inches across the wet dirt towards her. She stamped her heel down on the handle and dragged it as far as she could until it was well within reach of her fingers. She knelt down and snatched it up as her mind raced. She knew she was trapped with the bloodletter’s corpse, and with only a knife at hand, it was uncertain if she could fend off the lobster-clawed and unnaturally graceful daemonette. If she could somehow wound or repel her, however, she would have the chance to behead the fallen servant of Khorne and free herself. Then she could free her troops, and they could all make a mad break for allied lines. Diana understood full well how improbable her odds were, but she also knew that if she stayed there for even a moment longer, the situation would assuredly worsen. Killing one of the daemon leaders of the traitors would not earn her any good will, to put it mildly. A sudden hissing and crackling from behind snapped her out of her lightning-fast mental plotting. She whirled around in fear, finding her face inches away from the loincloth of the daemonette, who had her hand on the metal chain that bound her to the bloodletter. The iron was burning red, melting and falling in molten droplets that burned into the bloodletter’s torso. The sheer heat radiated around and washed over her hand and forearm, making the commissar wince as she received minor burns. The chain snapped in two, freeing her, and she pulled her arm away, looking up at the pink beast with a scowl, knowing she should already be running but unable to bring her limbs to move. Diana felt the daemonette’s mere existence emanating depravity and sin, and tried to ignore the return of the unnatural heat beneath her flesh as her body drank in that disgusting aura. “There, with that out of the way, we can have so much fun together!” the pink woman grinned down, her long and fleshy tail curling up in the air behind her. The commander inhaled through her nose, and realized she could smell the sweet, forbidden nectar seeping from the monster’s crotch, which was so very tantalizingly close to her lips, only hidden by the thin loincloth which would be so very easy to brush aside. Her heartbeat, still erratic and heavy from moments ago, quickened yet again. She was no dyke, she told herself. She was not like Quentin. She would not fall prey to this daemon’s sick and twisted powers. The officer exhaled pink steam through her mouth, which hung open, her lips quivering slightly. She leaned in closer as the icon of sin stood with her hand on her undeniably curvy hip and her deadly claw clicking out a few beats in anticipation. By the time Diana realized what she was doing, her hand had already torn the flimsy cloth right off of the daemon’s waist, revealing her alluring, beautiful labia, with a jeweled piercing in her clitoris. It was the only piercing the follower of Excess had on her entire form, and if the woman was more lucid, she might have wondered what purpose it served. Instead, the officer neared it as if in a daze, her heart thumping harder the closer she came. By then, Diana was past the point of caring. Her tongue slowly extended towards the hot flesh that parted with arousal before her eyes, seductive, cloying warmth pulsing off of it against her mouth. The electricity between her legs, on her lips, flowing through her body, told her that what she was about to do was so very, very right. A red hand seized the daemonette’s soft and fleshy leg, swinging her down into the dirt head first. She let out a cry of joy at the pain, and the bloodletter tore the metal chains off of his neck and climbed to his feet with a groan. Snapped out of her compulsion, the commissar scrambled away from him before he could lash out at her with his massive fist, narrowly avoiding a brutal retribution for what she had done to him. She felt the unnatural urges rapidly fade, grateful to feel her reason and sense return. She had underestimated the daemonette. It would not happen again. “Dumb bitch. It’ll take more than that to bring me down. But that struggle, that taste of combat, that made me harder than an adamantine mantle, so I suppose I’ll have to thank you by giving you the same in return,” the bloodletter said to the woman, smoldering hatred glowing in his irises. “You came, so it’s not your turn anymore!” the pink-fleshed beast screeched in fury at her comrade as she lithely slithered up to her feet. The fleshy tendrils that imitated hair on her skull all coiled upwards to reflect her anger, and her claw tapped together rhythmically. “I don’t recall that ever being a rule, much less one that your sort would ever bother to follow,” the muscle-bound hulk said with a sneer, flexing his enormous arms and twisting his neck back and forth, the dull thuds of his vertebrae popping echoing through the the night. The daemonette’s wrathful demeanor vanished in a blink. The daemon thought to herself for a moment, and shrugged. “I cannot say that you are wrong. I suggest a compromise. Perhaps we can share?” “How about you choke on a lascannon and go get fucked by your own kind where you belong, whore?” he said. “Don’t push me. You and I both know I’ll snap you like a twig.” The daemonette’s momentary calm disintegrated as she bristled, baring her wicked sharp teeth and growling. “Uh-oh, he’s pissed her off. This will not end in a pretty manner,” the humanoid horror said as they observed the proceedings. The Plaguebearer nodded, his empty expression betraying none of his thoughts. The bloodletter just chuckled at the commissar, then turned and saw her standing tall before him, with the tip of her knife pointed right at him, a mutual hatred exchanged in their glares. Diana was tattered and ragged, with only the shredded remains of her blouse that hung open and her bra left on her frame. A few locks of her black hair had escaped the bun on the back of her head, flowing in the cool breeze. Her wide, tanned hips and thick, toned thighs were covered in tiny bloody pricks that had already dried. Foamy white fluid slowly dripped from between her legs, falling upon the ground and mixing into the soil. Her supple, tight rump was being eyed by the cultists, her soldiers, and the Plaguebearer, but the officer cared not. The only thought in her mind was to kill the thing that had defiled her so. The monster of War snorted and grinned. He was going to enjoy this even more than the last time. Before the warrior daemon could charge at Diana and brutalize her, the daemonette on the ground behind him leapt upon his back, her normal arm wrapping around his throat while her claw stabbed into his back repeatedly, spilling his blood with frightening glee and a chilling laughter. Her legs closed around his midsection and she tore at him viciously while he yelled and tried to reach behind himself to get her off. But she ducked and weaved around his massive hands, her unnaturally long tongue flicking out to stroke his cheek playfully. “Damn you, whor-!” he screamed, but before he could finish, she sent the long fleshy appendage spiraling into his mouth and then down his throat, suppressing his voice. He gurgled around it, snapping his teeth shut to try and bite the length off. It resisted even his lethal sharp fangs and the monstrous strength of his jaw. The bloodletter twisted around and arched his back desperately to try and wrest her off of himself. She dug her claw deep into his back, relishing the sensation of prying his flesh open and the agony he endured. “If you won’t share, then you can have her. I’ll have you instead!” the sadistic, sinful devil said around her extended tongue, giggling like an innocent schoolgirl. Roaring as the tongue writhed around inside of him, traveling deeper and deeper, the mammoth warrior leaned back and catapulted himself backward with the power of his ripped legs. The unwanted occupant on his back was smashed right into the stone wall, breaking a new hole in it and causing it to collapse around them. The commissar sensed her chance to escape while her assailants were infighting, but when she whirled around, two traitors were already running at her with clubs, intending to subdue her. Though her body still felt weak and wobbly from the raw fucking she had received, her muscles tensed with the proper movements a decade of training had imparted on her. A normal woman was at a severe disadvantage against a normal man in a confrontation. If it was two men, the chances of victory plummeted. If both men were armed, then the odds became astronomically small. A single knife did not greatly improve the situation. Diana bent her knees and turned sideways as she widened her stance. She minimized the target she presented the attackers and held out her knife as far as she could, breathing deeply and clearing her mind as she watched them approach hastily. The result was certain from the beginning. A normal woman would have most definitely been beaten half to death. When the heretics came within reach of the commander, though, she lunged forward in the blink of an eye, catching them both off guard. She dispatched both cultists with calm, controlled, practical motions, swinging the knife through the air in lightning-fast strikes that neither expected, and neither survived. Even fatigued and half-naked, this much came naturally to her. As the cultists crumpled to the ground, blood pouring from the several fresh stab and slash wounds in their abdomens, she turned to look at her men with that same stern glare she had always given them. The prisoners stopped masturbating, their lengths rapidly shrinking as guilt over what they had done consumed their minds. Except for Quentin, who was laying down and spreading her legs and beckoning for the cultist she had paired with to have his way with her. Damn her, Diana thought. She would have to be disciplined properly after this. The rest of the traitors ridiculed their comrades for being slain so easily by a mere woman, content to watch the ample curves of the daemonette as she struggled with the bloodletter rather than waste their time fighting the commissar. The woman dried her killing implement on her torn blouse, then stuck the dull end of the knife between her teeth and swiped the wooden clubs off of the fresh corpses beneath her. It was not much, but it was a start. She heard the Horror saying something softly to the Plaguebearer, but the ruckus behind her drowned it out, and she whirled to see how the battle between the daemons was faring. If it was going to end before long, then she would need to devise a plan to deal with them first and foremost. The bloodletter stumbled out of the wreckage of the wall, the daemonette still riding on him and plunging her claw deeper into his bulk. He collapsed to his hands and knees, shaking weakly as his girth began to harden in large, heavy jerks. “Haven’t you heard what they say? ‘Don’t ever let a servant of Slaanesh get inside you!’ You were fucked the moment you turned your back to me, idiot!” the pink-fleshed monster cackled out. He groaned, his throat bulging with the movements of her tongue. She sat up, riding on his back like a true dominatrix, raising her free hand to squeeze one of her impure bosoms. Her long tail curled around in the air, fleshy and thick, before slowly lowering to rest on the red beast’s back. Before the eyes of the audience, it began to elongate, traveling past his rump and hanging down from it, coiling around his firm rear suggestively. His musclebound frame tensed up, recognition gleaming in his burning eyes. “You’re just a murderous rapist. You kill and kill and rape and kill and for what? Nothing! You don’t have a reason! You’re just a mindless animal! And animals need to be trained!” she laughed, enjoying herself far too much. The bloodletter could only shiver as the headed tip of her tail rubbed between his buttocks, pressing against the tight ring of his rectum. This was the breaking point for him. He grabbed the tongue violating his throat and yanked on it, pulling the pink-fleshed monster on his back right off of him with raw strength before she could try to exacerbate his wound to stun him again. With another pull, the whole length of her tongue was extricated from his mouth, and he spat on the ground as he wrapped one massive hand around her neck and squeezed just tight enough to shut her up. “I’m gonna fuck you, and then I’m gonna kill you,” he growled, pressing his raging erection underneath her skirt. She voluntarily spread her legs with a grin as she struggled to breathe around his tight grip of her throat, and when his tip found her dripping, corrupt cunt, he bared his teeth and slowly pushed inside of her, feeling her beautiful folds spread around his huge girth. The daemonette gurgled around the vice of his hand, an insane grin on her face as he pulled back his hips and slammed himself back in, starting to screw her with raw, bestial power. “That is fucking disgusting,” Diana muttered under her breath, feeling bile rising in her throat. With confidence that both of her greatest foes would be occupied for the foreseeable future, she decided to take advantage of the situation and attempt to free her troops. When she turned to help them, however, she found herself face to face with the green daemon, his impossibly thin and tall form towering over hers like a praying mantis. She froze, shocked at his stealthy approach, and reflexively locked eyes with him. She stared into the endless darkness of his black globes, seeing a cold void that chilled her to the very bone. The Plaguebearer breathed in her scent, and his rod quickly hardened. The long shaft throbbed upwards, sliding between her thighs until it was stopped by her wet loins, stuck there, unable to rise further. It pulsed against her womanhood, which was still so very sensitive from what the servant of Pleasure had done to her. She could not suppress a shiver from the sensation of his disgusting dick rubbing against her honeypot. It was almost as if she could feel his tainted blood flowing through the member, carrying unspeakable evils that could kill her thousands of times over. Even though her mind screamed to move, her consciousness sank further into the gates of his eyes, her body unable to comply. All she could do was stand there and feel him, feel herself grow hot with anticipation and awe, feel her only chance to escape rapidly melting away as her mind grew light, and feel her primal side begin to question why she was even trying to resist. The commissar saw deeper and deeper into his enchanting orbs, the darkness slowly clearing up as she was dragged in. The unknown became the familiar, and she realized that she was staring at the corpses of her parents, bloated and rotten, infested with maggots. Abject horror tore through her as he reached out and grabbed her shoulders. The clubs in her hands fell to the ground, and her jaw slowly dropped, the knife tumbling harmlessly out of her mouth. She watched the cadavers decompose and deteriorate into nothing but bones. A choked sob spilled from her mouth as the daemon leaned in closer to her. Again and again, the scene played out before her eyes, each time more corpses being shown. Those of her classmates from the Schola, those of the men who served under her, even those of the civilians she was fighting so hard to protect. A child. Many children. Some with innocent expressions that betrayed their lack of understanding of what happened to them, others with looks of pure fear and agony. All of the bodies melted away, leaving behind a great hill of bones that could not be distinguished between. Despite being so different in life, despite all of their memories and personalities, they were so very similar in death. Death destroyed them, distorted them, but in the end, united them. When he pressed his dry, cracked lips against hers, she quivered with nausea. Whether she could not or would not, she did not resist as the Plaguebearer violated her mouth. Her mind struggled with the hypnotic vision, telling herself that she had seen much worse than that before – that such paltry issues were no concern of a commissar. Her fingers twitched as he slobbered into her mouth, his long, coarse tongue exploring her teeth, the roof of her mouth, and her tongue, then finally, pressed past it, slipping down her throat. Diana gagged loudly around it, heaving, feeling the bile rising up her esophagus as the appendage went deeper to meet it. The vision was banished by the sensations, replaced by the horrific sight of watching inch after inch of the tongue slide out from behind her lips. Her legs gave out and she fell down onto her back, looking up to see the tip of his tongue dripping with the contents of her stomach. His prick bounced up proudly without her to hold it down. A brief second after that, she vomited sideways onto the ground, feeling the harsh burn of her own acid in her mouth and nostrils. Just as her mind cleared up from the pain, more came up, and she hurled what little was left in her gut out with a shudder and a groan. The commissar coughed and gagged, tears burning in her eyes as she glanced back up at the servant of Nurgle. He retracted his tongue and wrapped his lips around her bile, tasting it for himself. “You sick fuck!” she gasped between coughs. “I have given you a gift from my master. He is kind, and accepts all into his Embrace,” the Plaguebearer said quietly. Spitting out as much of the caustic juices as she could, Diana rolled onto her side, pushed herself up, and wiped her face clean of the mess with the back of her sleeve. Held up by her hands, her tanned, toned legs stretched out on the ground, just slightly bent. The daemon coldly regarded the alluring sight with his pitch black globes. After a moment of consideration, he reached down and grabbed her by the hair, tearing it free of the bun. The long black locks spilled all over the woman, still healthy and lustrous in spite of the war she had fought in for so long. It stretched down to her waist, some of it resting on the dirty ground. Outraged, the officer glared up at the daemon and snarled, “I don’t want your disgusting gifts!” Gritting her teeth with hatred and fury, she grabbed the knife resting nearby and drove its tip deep into the leg of the harbinger of Decay until it was stopped by bone. The weapon began to rust the moment it pierced his flesh, turning red-brown and bending and then even snapping into pieces as disgusting purple fluid spilled over the blade. Unhindered by a wound that would have crippled a mortal, he just stood there and observed as she grabbed the clubs, stood up, and swung both of them into each side of his head. The wood simply rebounded off of the daemon, leaving behind a set of gross bruises on his face, but she was not dissuaded. The ineffectiveness of her attacks only further fueled her wrath. “Aaaaargh!” she screamed, dropping one of the clubs to grasp the other with both hands. She swung it back, then brought the column of wood right into the daemon’s head with every ounce of strength, hatred, and righteous fury she could muster. The reinforced wood snapped in half from the sheer force behind it, splintering into a mess of pieces that flew through the air. The Plaguebearer’s head turned with the brute power applied to it, twisting more and more until its vertebrae broke with a loud crack and its head turned backwards in a way that no human could survive. Splinters drove into the side of its face, small beads of purple forming around the bits and beginning to trickle down. The commissar panted and waited for a moment with wide eyes, unsure if she had actually killed it or not. She got her answer when his arms began to move, slowly as always, reaching up and grabbing his head and twisting it back into place as casually as if he was tearing off a scab. Once more he stared at her, his expressionless features disquieting her heart. “Fuck you!” she shouted, stabbing the sharp club end right into his eye, tearing right through the soft flesh and jamming the shaft deep enough to feel the grey matter being torn through. Congealed purple gunk poured down his green face, and Diana stumbled back in shock as the wood rotted and greyed in an instant, crumbling into dust and blowing away in the breeze. “Fuck off! You should be dead! I don’t care if you’re a daemon!” she cried. “Those who serve my master feel no pain, for they are always in his Embrace. Those who serve the Great Father will not be laid low by any wounds, for He will always hold them up from behind. You, too, can have this power. This is the power of friendship and love. Come, I shall show you the gift you have already received,” he said, holding his arms out wide as if beckoning for a hug. He stepped towards her, and she stepped away from him, glancing back to ensure she was not about to trip on anything. To her dismay, she saw the Bloodletter fucking the daemonette in a ravenous frenzy, punching her face with his fist and only managing to make her squirm with blissful pleasure. The nauseating sight distracted her just long enough for the Plaguebearer to reach out towards her. When the commissar turned back, she saw his hand inches from her face and immediately backpedaled. But as she moved, her foot got caught in a deceptively deep puddle, and she tumbled down to the ground. The sensation of warmth on her left hand led her to glance at it, and her eyes widened. A long, sharp fragment of glass jutted through her hand, right between her bones. Red was already spilling out around it. And yet, she felt not even a single iota of pain. All she could feel was its dull weight and the trickle of her own blood as she picked up her hand and stared in shock. “You bastard! What have you done to me?!” she screamed, abject horror saturating her heart. She clutched at her hand, yanking the shard out with frightening ease and watching her precious crimson pour out of the open wound. “That is my gift to you, which was, in turn, given to me by the Great Father. Your very blood now carries it, and you have the power to spread it to all before you. Rejoice, mortal. You are blessed.” “Blessed?! You’ve cursed me!” Diana shrieked. The violation she felt was far worse than anything the Bloodthirster could have done to her. “You are blind, as you are now. It is understandable that you would not yet comprehend His magnanimity, but it will be remedied. Let us rejoice for His love, together,” the green daemon spoke slowly, reaching down and grabbing the officer while she was in no position to resist him anymore. Exhausted, hurt, and in a state of shock, she let him gently handle her with his incredible strength, feeling him touch her small, pert bosoms, stroke her hair smoothly, and even brush his fingers over her damp loins, her lips quivering as she choked back a cry of despair. “Peace, mortal. Be still, and quiet.” He swung her over with the ease of a child turning over a toy, lowering her to the ground on her hands and knees before him, holding her firmly by her waist. She stared at the ground, afraid to even look up at her own men, afraid of the audible groans and wet smacks of their masturbation. When had they reverted back to that disgusting state? The monster’s eyes scanned the curves of her supple, tight rear. Without a word, he moved his huge hands to cup each of her firm and shapely buttocks, squeezing them appreciatively. The commander shivered, dread swelling in her mind as she considered what he intended to do with her even as her traitorous body reacted favorably to the sensations. Her eyes drifted back to her dripping hand just as she felt something wet brush over one of her asscheeks. She peered over her own shoulder, seeing the beast running his extended tongue over her flesh. The daemon’s eyes met with hers, and he smiled, showing off his unnaturally long, sharp, and rotten fangs in what she thought was the most horrifying grin she had ever seen. “You have a phenomenal ass, mortal. Papa has very particular tastes, and you are most suited to them. I wish to fulfill them with you.” “What the fuck are you talking about?” she asked, seeing him coil his tongue around. Then he lowered its tip down out of her vision, and she immediately jolted as she felt it push against one of the most sensitive and vulnerable places of her body. “Oh, Emperor! No!” she cried, acutely aware of how he was wriggling his appendage into her tight hole inch by inch, able to feel the tingling of the movement within her fleshy ring with none of the discomfort she would have expected. And then, she realized why it only felt nice. The ‘gift.’ Her knees shook against the ground weakly as she felt the muscle wriggle inside of her playfully. The servant of Nurgle swished his tongue around inside of her with demonic glee, loudly slurping away at her plush rear with a full foot of vile muscle twisting within her insides as it dug deeper, tunneling so far that the sensation forced her huge, plump ass backwards until it mashed against the monster's sharp face. She shivered, cunt twinging in protest at the electric jolts that flowed through her hips as he hungrily devoured her with twisting tongue. This torture lasted several minutes, until she felt it slip out, and heaved a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, that brief respite was cut short. Two large hands wrapped around her hips tightly. Her eyes widened as something huge slowly pushed into her ass, a bead of sweat rolling down her cheek as the sensation of tingly fullness washed over her. It dawned on her that the daemon had penetrated her with his member, and she shuddered. “Oh, throne,” she mumbled, unable to ignore the way it felt as if the huge shaft was pressing against the walls of her passage from the other side, scratching a burning itch in her depths that she really wished it wouldn’t. It took a few moments for Diana to realize that the Plaguebearer had buried himself inside her completely and was savoring the tight clenching her bud of flesh made around him. She could feel his absurdly large, swollen testes hanging against her wet mound, sending an undesired chill up her spine at the thought of what they might contain, be it spoilt seed, or something far worse. When the sickly green monster started to pull back, she gasped, the sudden stimulus driving her to dig her hands into the dirt out of sheer reflex. He moved slowly, almost sluggishly, pushing in and pulling out of her rhythmically at a snail’s pace that nearly felt worse than an intense fucking. It forced her to intimately experience every inch of his pulsing column as it moved in and out of her, a merciless treatment. “Ungh, you’re disgusting,” the commissar groaned in a mixture of despair and arousal as she felt the clammy heat of his crotch pressing against her lovely rear again. There was nothing but a derisive chuckle from the daemon, who continued to violate her with a smug grin. The foul musk that exuded from his pores became thicker in the air as he began to ooze effluvial grime reminiscent of sweat. He thrust inwards again with a grunt. Diana gulped, the flush on her face deepening, her fingers tightening around the dirt, staring at the earth beneath her with quivering lips, her hips squirming helplessly, yet so very sensually, in his grip. She struggled to resist the terrible pleasure being inflicted on her, to little avail. The short, curvy officer was the servant of Nurgle’s plaything, and the longer it all continued, the harder she found it to deny the perverse side of her that was enjoying it. Was it because of all her exposure to the daemonette’s aura? Was it because she was still weak and sensitive from the bloodletter’s brutal reaming? She could not tell. But she could feel her rationality beginning to slip away, replaced by primal urge and corrupt desire. It was maddening. All those years of training, conditioning, experience, and suffering, all to become a worthy tool of the Emperor’s will, vanishing right before her eyes. Was she really so weak? Was she worth no more than the soil she kneaded in her fingers? Were her pathetic mewlings of carnal pleasure as he buried himself deep into her bowels again just revealing her true nature? The questions were ones Diana could not bear to answer. The throbbing length inside of her stole her thoughts away, and she moaned loudly as she felt it pushing into her again, still so frustratingly slow and patient. Her sopping wet slit twitched against his slimy sack whenever it came to rest against her, a shameful admission of how the sluggish beast was driving her wild. He noticed. Of course he noticed. The Plaguebearer just chuckled darkly, even his voice sickening to hear, like nails on chalkboard. The commissar wanted to cry. This time it wasn’t about suppressing the reflex to do so out of pride. It was her pride, sullied, as violated as her body, which brought tears to her eyes. The defiant fire in her heart had gone cold. She was not fallen, not yet, but no longer did she entertain any foolish notions of escape, or heroism. With the realization that her will to resist had been broken, her body gave in to the sensations being wrought upon her, and she ground her teeth and shut her eyes, a muffled groan coming out, her face the picture of disgusted pleasure. She trembled, her groin burned with electric heat, and the pressure in her rear felt so much more vivid, almost wonderful. Her ring of flesh tightened around the massive cock in her ass on pure reflex. The Plaguebearer cackled, realizing what was happening, and slowed down, once again forcing Diana to intimately experience his girth, which only made her arms and thighs shake that much harder. The twisted climax lasted far longer than the commander wished it to. When she finally began to come down from the fleeting bliss, the dark-haired woman realized that the daemon had not finished, to her dismay. She opened her eyes, mentally preparing herself for many more minutes of depravity by attempting to focus all her perception on a thought. If she could enter a meditative state as she had been taught to do to resist torture, then she would definitely be able to withstand anything the daemons could do to her. All she had to do was elevate her thoughts beyond the fundamental into the transcendental. Think of the God-Emperor, she told herself. Golden light filled her mind, memories of vast and grand cathedrals as well as sacred depictions of her great lord of all lords. Focusing on them to the exclusion of all else, she began to ascend past physical feeling, sensing that she was beginning to escape her predicament, and - The slimy dick in her ass reminded her of reality with another merciless thrust, wrenching her away from the fleeting safety of her own mind. She had failed. Grim acceptance welled up in her heart. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy to escape the hell she was in. With that thought, that disturbing part of her that enjoyed what she was doing seemed to speak with a stronger voice. It told her to give in completely, to admit it felt phenomenal and throw away all her remaining inhibitions. The grey earth she stared at suddenly became as revolting to her as the creature claiming her tight rear, and she averted her gaze, twisting her neck to look at anything else. To her dismay, she was met with the sight of her soldiers. A few stood, no longer restrained by the cultists as they had proven their disloyalty to the Throne, masturbating with fervor, grunting and huffing as their hands flew along their lengths. They watched her. They watched her with a lust in their eyes that she was no longer surprised by. But it had no less effect on her arousal, and the commissar was already feeling that hateful lust building inside of her again, because of the way her own troops were behaving towards her in such crude, barbaric manners. Those desperate eyes on her, the sight of their rock hard dicks, it made her heart pound and her legs feel like mush. It was getting her hot as hell again, and the incessant plunging of the Plaguebearer’s phallus into her again and again sent electric pulses up her spine. There was no pain, no fatigue, no discomfort, only that damned pleasure. It kept building up like a brewing storm, threatening to make her explode if she didn’t let it out somehow. Desperate to retain control of her faculties, she did the only thing she could. Diana moaned. She moaned again, and then again, louder, with the next thrust, her eyes locked on her men, watching their shafts jerk hard in their fingers when they heard her indecent noises. It felt so wrong, like she was giving up some measure of dignity, but it felt so damn right, and her soldiers seemed to agree with it. With each audible expression of what she was feeling, her own pleasure grew, heat bubbling in her core, partly due to allowing herself to enjoy it more and partly due to watching the effect she was having on her own troops. It was addictive, lewd, forbidden, immoral, incredible, exciting. It was like a whole new world was opening up before her eyes. She moaned louder and louder, for herself and for them. The dark-haired minx started rolling her hips back against the unholy column of flesh in her ass, letting her fluffy-soft rear smack against his slimy pelvis harder and harder. She realized she was losing it, but the commander was finding it more and more difficult to care. One of the soldiers shot his load out, spilling it all over the ground. There was a slight murmur among the observing heretics, who seemingly noted that he was the first one to do so. A female cultist, skinny, bald, her body covered in rags and forbidden sigils carved into her flesh, strolled up to the recently finished trooper and kneeled down over his spilt semen, grabbing his softening member and running her tongue all over his tip lavishly to clean up the leftover strands of cum. The man savagely grabbed her by her head and shoved his prick in her mouth, forcing her to suck it all clean, before pulling out and falling down, laying on his back and trying to recover. The cultist grinned at the exhausted rifleman and bent over to lap up all of the white fluid that had not yet soaked into the ground. He responded by growing hard again, and she happily stepped over him, squatted down, lifted her skirt, and mounted him in a matter-of-fact way, like it was merely work for her. The other standing troops watched the tattooed woman grind on the soldier for a short while before the thought of joining in occurred to them. They waddled up to her, nursing their erections, and she blinked at them with a knowing smile before grabbing one in each hand and taking a third into her mouth as she continued to ride the man under her. Her fingers deftly stroked and tugged on their shafts, lingering around their tips where they were most sensitive, rewarded with streams of precum. Her tongue ran under the base of the rod in her mouth, her head bobbing up and down, sucking hard and fast. The wench was uninterested in the subtleties of sex, only the end result. The commissar could not avert her gaze, unable to tear her vision away from the ensuing burst of hot semen spilling all over and into the lady heretic, drenching her in sticky, dense white fluid, giving her everything she wanted. Only once the last spurts of cum had been spent did she finally look away, only to see another defiled act taking place. It was private Quentin, this time laying on the wet mud with the same traitor from before between her legs, plowing her powerfully. The mutated and misshapen ballsack between his legs visibly pulsed, veins pumping something around and around, beginning to lightly glow with black light. “Oh, oh, yes! More!” Quentin huffed gleefully. “My masters favor you, yes they do, and have seen fit to bestow a gift upon you, hee hee,” the cultist said between bestial grunts as he stared down into the soldier’s eyes. “Take it!” he groaned, freezing in place mid-hump, his strong body tensing up as his daemonic balls suddenly throbbed upwards. Quentin giggled and threw back her head, her hands pressing against the heretic’s chest, nails digging into his flesh until she drew blood. Her legs locked around his waist, and he pumped impossible amounts of daemonic semen into her, until the thick black fluid began to pour from her loins. Her hot breath steamed as she panted with the exertion and satisfaction of their coupling, the large puffs of air visible even to her commanding officer from several meters away. “Ooh, you tightened up quite a bit, mortal,” the green-fleshed rotten daemon cackled. He cocked his head, peering under his gnarled horns in the same general direction as the commander was, and spotted the cultist defiling Private Quentin. “Ah, you are envious of your subordinate, perhaps?” the servant of Nurgle hissed loudly. Diana did not respond, aside from pushing her soft tush back in rhythm with his thrusts, and breathing heavily with flushed cheeks and closed eyes. “If you are unsatisfied with what I have given you so far, that is easily remedied. My sworn brother will be with us in just a moment,” the Plaguebearer hissed, and Diana glanced up to see the Bloodletter grunting and groaning with exertion as he plowed the Daemonette furiously. “Ungh! Ungh! Grrraaaagh!” the red-fleshed monster roared, sweat pouring down his ripped form as he slammed himself into the lovely daemon beneath him again and again. The servant of Slaanesh gurgled out weak moans of joy as his massive hand tightened around her throat. Her own hands were stroking the warrior’s chiseled sides gently, so softly there was no way he could possibly feel them, and yet, somehow those simple, sensual touches affected him deeply, driving his hatelust even further. “Fuck! How does this feel so damn good?! Fuck! Fuck!” the Bloodletter yelled out as his hips began to pump down harder and harder, building up towards his climax even though he was trying to resist it with every ounce of his being. He was so engrossed in the act that his blood red eyes turned an alarming shade of pink, his mouth hanging open, his tongue lolling out and hanging down as pink vapor expelled from his mouth. With one, final, climactic thrust, he buried himself in to the hilt, and yelled out with anger and pleasure in his voice and the voice of the Daemonette’s, speaking through him. His every muscle went taut as his body forcefully pumped its load into the eagerly awaiting cunt. Thick, hot white seed began to spew from the whore of Excess’s loins, spilling all over the ground below them. Only several moments later did the warrior beast’s frame relax, sinewy muscle buckling as the exhaustion overtook him. It was easy for the voluptuous pink daemon to push him off and climb to her feet, somewhat wobbly herself, but with a grin that displayed all of her sinister satisfaction as the daemon semen dribbled down her thighs. “Not bad, not bad,” she said to the weakened Bloodletter with an amused, smug tone, “but I’ve had better. Ah, well. I suppose devouring a good portion of your power while you weren’t paying attention will have to do. Here’s a lesson for next time – don’t have sex with a Slaaneshi if you aren’t one yourself. It’s all too easy to play you morons while you’re busy marveling over how great it feels!” The Daemonette, no longer interested in the Commissar now that the Plaguebearer had gotten his hands on her, waltzed over to the small orgy taking place with the guardsmen and the growing number of cultists joining in, and expertly took charge of a few of the finer dicks for herself, rapidly corrupting the few guardsmen who had not yet given into their base impulses with her mere presence and her uncanny way with her tongue, tail, and fingers. “Damn that bitch,” the Bloodletter groaned as he rolled onto his side and staggered to his feet, holding his head with his hand. “I’ll kill her. I’ll kill her and she will die. Soon!” he grumbled, swinging his arms around in impotent rage, fully aware that he stood no chance in his weakened state. Instead of pursuing such a foolhardy course of action, his head turned and his eyes scanned the burned out buildings around him until he spotted Diana once more, his eyes lighting up with flame. “Dear bound brother of mine, surely you could set aside your vengeance for a moment to finish what you began with this mortal?” asked the Plaguebearer, grabbing the lady officer by her waist, standing to his feet, and lifting her up into the air, her thick thighs spread wide, her beautiful, soaking pussy exposed to the raging daemon. The dark haired woman moaned and reached back to hang onto the scum behind her who was slowly lifting and lowering her on his length, draping her arms around his neck as her curvaceous hips moved up and down, up and down, slowly, sensually. Sweat ran down Diana’s modest breasts as her chest heaved with every breath she took. She looked up at the Bloodletter with half-lidded, sexual eyes, blinking slowly, her lush lips hanging just barely open. It was as if she were lounging on the rotten beast’s cock, and beckoning for the servant of Khorne to come and take her inviting pink hole as it twitched ever-so-slightly. Eager to pick up where he had left off, the hulking Warp abomination stomped up to her, his manhood hardening in just a few virile jerks upward until it was rock hard, veins bulging, the dribble of semen from his tip from his prior ejaculation turning into only more precum. His broad shoulders flexed as he reached out to grab hold of the perverse woman who writhed against the heat of his flesh on hers, weak groans the only complaint she could muster. He stroked her cheek, leaning in to smell her sweat, his nostrils flaring as he took in her musky scent once again. His mouth opened up, and his long, wet tongue slid out inch by inch, running up the fair flesh of her neck, making her shiver from the powerful sensation, his fire-hot breath washing over her sensitive collar in waves. His immovable bulk inched closer, and he slithered his tongue up under Diana’s chin, then up to her lips, leaving a trail of moistness behind. The tip of his tongue slipped off of her lips, and he leaned back and stepped forward, his massive member brushing over her inner thigh as he positioned himself before her, his intentions clear. The commissar’s own tongue flicked out to clean her lips off, and tasted the same metallic flavor as blood. It was the same as the smell the Bloodletter emanated from his very being. Tingles drifted down her thigh as his cockhead tickled her skin, gently brushing against her until it met her thick mound, pressing into the soft flesh, probing, searching for the hole between her labial folds. The length was still covered in the unholy, foamy fluids of the Daemonette, and the woman stared at it in delirious heat and anxiety. She knew exactly what it would feel like inside of her, except even better than before. Much better than before. The blood red balls that dangled at its base, veiny, huge, swollen, promising a ridiculous and impossible amount of spunk the next time the daemon came. The thought of being penetrated was incomprehensibly alluring, something she wanted so badly even though it was so wrong - perhaps especially because it was so wrong. “What a pity. If you actually knew what you were doing with that thing, you might be able to make me cum,” the commissar panted, staring right at the ridged and studded daemon cock, captivated and enchanted by its gruesome shape even as she spat out her defiant words. The Bloodletter barked out an amused laugh. “Hah! So you’ve still got some fight left in you? Good! Good! I’ll break you like a two cent whore!” the warrior of Khorne roared. “When a loyal dog of the False Emperor starts to moan and beg for more, reduced to nothing more than the cum-guzzling slut she really is – that is what I live for! I love mortals who know their place!” “She wants it, brother. She yearns for it. She’s riding on me desperately. She’s ready, brother,” the avatar of Decay hissed from behind the beauty as he continued his slow, steady bucking into her ass. “She is, isn’t she, brother?” the Bloodletter growled appreciatively, grabbing his member so he could rub its tip up and down in Diana’s wet slit, feeling her labia pulse with her pounding heartbeat, which his dick answered by echoing his own. “Then she shall have it,” he grumbled. He grabbed both of her legs firmly, holding them straight out on either side of her and testing her impressive flexibility before finally pushing his hips forward and pressing into her in a slow, yet smooth movement, with little of the hassle of the first penetration. Her nether lips parted obligingly, as did her wet, silken folds, allowing him entrance into her deepest reaches, his unholy pillar of flesh greeting her warm and inviting insides with gleeful throbs of virility. The commissar threw her head back, gritting her teeth and moaning through them as she felt the immense pleasure of the daemon’s entry. She found herself acutely aware of the sensation of fullness from both daemon cocks filling her up, great pressure concentrated between her legs, deep in her pelvis. The most sensitive part of her was being pressed against from both sides, gooey, electric heat building in her core, faster and faster with each slight movement either of them made. It was unfair. It was painfully unfair what they were doing to her. The Bloodletter swung his hips back and then forward again – she moaned, staring into the red-fleshed beast’s burning eyes as she felt every inch of her walls rubbed over by his unnatural phallus. The Plaguebearer held her firmly in place by her waist, giving a lazy hump of his own, and the lewd weight in her rear shifted up and down, reminding her that she was being violated in not just one, but both of her most vulnerable places at the same time. Both daemons settled into a slow, leisurely rhythm of fucking her. Diana bucked up and down, forward and back, struggling to meet the thrusts of both of her violators. She gyrated her wide hips, grinding on both of their girths, her tongue running over her lips as she felt eldritch electricity flow through her loins. Was it, perhaps, the remnant fluids of the Daemonette affecting her? Some vague corruption caused by overexposure to the Ruinous Powers? Or merely the result of double penetration? She could not say. The marvelous sensations rapidly built in her entire body, already threatening to overwhelm what little self-control she had left. Taken. She was being taken by such virile creatures. Beasts. Monsters. They were using her for their own pleasure. They were abominations against everything that was good and just, and she was enjoying what they were doing to her. Her vulva twinged around the blood red shaft buried inside of it. “Fuck you,” the officer groaned out as she was screwed mercilessly from both sides. “Ungh, fuck both of you!” “Enjoying yourself, mortal?” the Bloodletter leered down at her. He snorted and humped into her again with reckless force, the wet noise of flesh on flesh echoing through the night air. “Hah! You’ve got a great cunt! Squeezing rather hard on me, aren’t you? Already giving in? I’ve had peasants with greater strength of will than you!” “Of-of course not! What, is that the best you’ve got? You’ll have to fuck me much harder than that if you want me to peak!” Diana managed to spit out between labored gasps, a sweaty lock of hair sticking to her cheek, struggling to hold on to any ounce of sanity with the urges overpowering her thoughts. “As you wish, you horny little slut!” the servant of Khorne laughed, promptly throwing even more of his tremendous brute strength into the rhythmic sex, his member pulsing with unbridled vigor inside of her, immediately forcing the prideful woman to shut her eyes and chew her lip around a moan of intense feeling. She felt a peculiar tightening in her chest, like electricity and gooey warmth were traveling up her torso, slowly, like it was building up to something. She was hurtling towards her next orgasm with no sign of either of her captors being close to theirs. If she did not hold out longer, they were surely going to drive her mad. The beautiful woman had no chance. Her heart fluttered with the next couple of thrusts into her passages. Tendons in her thighs spasmed, muscles throughout her body tensed, her pussy throbbed, her eyelids drooped, and her toes curled in the air on either side of her. The commissar experienced physical bliss washing over her entire body, her jaw dropping as powerful waves of sensation pumped through her veins. She let out a moan of bestial joy, husky, long, trailing off slightly at the end. It was a pleasure that she expected to fade away, like before. But the daemons were hardly satisfied – if anything, her explosive climax only spurred them on, both of them suddenly synchronizing their thrusts into her tight holes and speeding up. To Diana’s surprise, the exhausting full-body pleasure was sustained for longer and longer. She struggled to breathe, her mouth hung wide open, her eyelids flickered up and down, and a second tingling jolt of energy began to rise through her chest. They pounded her hard, relentlessly. Their huge members pulsed with vitality, both daemons grunting with exertion and enjoyment, cooperating with unnatural fellowship. They refused to give her the chance to come down from the heavenly hell she was stuck in, and her ragged breathing was soon accompanied by uncontrolled moans and cries of acute pleasure. Her long, black locks of hair bounced up and down on her shoulders, and her pert breasts jiggled briefly with every swing up and down she made. She gulped down saliva, struggling not to drool all over herself as she squirmed and shuddered, the unbearable pleasure of her orgasm extending into infinity. Though she did not think it possible, the Bloodletter continued to accelerate his feverish fucking, slamming his girth deep into her second after second as the claws on the tips of his fingers dug into the flesh of her ankles, drawing blood. She felt none of the pain, only the insistent plunging of his cock into her depths harder and harder, each swing of his body into hers bringing with it a mind-rending surge of electricity up her spine. The Plaguebearer no longer picked up speed, but instead maintained a consistent, steady tempo, the two conflicting paces offering wildly differing sensations of pressure and weight inside of her from one moment to the next. Every now and then, when the thrusts happened to coincide, the commissar would bounce up much higher from the combined force, and her heart would skip a beat, unable to breathe as her pleasure-wracked body tensed beyond any control. “Ack! Nng, nnng! Ahn! Please!” the dark-haired woman gasped and sputtered, the sensations inflicted on her rendering even basic speech difficult. “Shut up, bitch! Hngh, this is exactly what you deserve!” the red beast roared proudly as he ravaged her utterly. Her labored moans that echoed out could not completely cover up the wet sloshes of the hard red shaft pounding into her sopping cunt, nor those of the sickly green one sliding in and out of her tight rear. The noises began to crescendo, the Bloodletter’s stamina beginning to fail him – he began to hump more out of desperation and need than sadistic enjoyment of the mortal’s plight. “Argh! Come on, slut, buck your hips harder! Where’s your fighting spirit now?! Unf, unf, damn, so damn tight, arrrgh!” “Ahn! Fuck! Fuck me! Throne, fuck me! Yes! Yes! Yes!” Diana moaned, no defiant pretense left to her words, squirming in her heat, struggling to ride both of the daemons as hard as she could. “Shit, take it, whore!” the Bloodletter yelled. His next thrust into the commissar nearly made him blow right then and there, but he held strong, resisting the open invitation of her wet folds and the desperation with which she clamped down on him for just a moment longer. The burning heat in Diana’s loins – the tingling tightness in her chest – only grew more intense, and in her limited thoughts she realized it felt like she was about to have an orgasm on top of her orgasm, something she had no idea was even possible. Just as her pleasure seemed to peak a second time, just as she was certain she was going to die or go insane, the last vestiges of the red-skinned monster’s strength snapped, and mid-thrust, a powerful blast of hot semen exploded from him with an audible splurch, his testes throbbing upwards from the sheer volume of cum they were pumping out and through his girth. He snarled and roared in his furious climax, pumping spurt after spurt of his thick juices into her depths, giving a few more heavy thrusts into her thick mound for good measure. He stood tall and still, allowing every last drop of his huge load to shoot forth, sinewy muscles taut and his bulk shaking slightly with effort. With her legs spread wide and up in the air, a stream of his musky spunk overflowed from her passage, spilling to the ground beneath them. His hot breath poured from his equine mouth and washed over the overwhelmed commissar’s face. Diana’s voice cracked as she felt the monster’s member throbbing and pouring hot denseness into her, that one last straw breaking the camel’s back. The white-hot electricity in her spine jolted all the way up, the pleasure mounting to the point that she could not think, nor feel, and even her consciousness grew hazy. She gushed shamelessly as spurts of daemonic seed saturated her folds. Her teeth gritted, drool running down her chin as preventing even that became impossible for her. Her toes curled tight, her fingers twitching around the Plaguebearer’s neck uncontrollably, automatically searching for some sort of grip, but nothing could provide that to her. She was in a state of unthinking bliss, utterly enthralled in bestial ecstasy. The daemon of disease was not far behind the other two. Within a few more brief bucks, his grimy fingers squeezed the commissar’s toned waist and his massive cock began to pulse uncontrollably in her ass. The creepy, unnaturally silent monster unleashed a shuddering howl that sounded like a dying animal, and streams of spoilt semen erupted from his tip, the pungent gunk splattering deep inside of her, driving her to groan weakly and shiver just as she felt as though she might start to finally come down from her second zenith. With the absurd size of his bloated testes, the sheer volume of fluid that throbbed out of the avatar of Decay, second by second, gulfed even that of the Bloodletter. His piercing howl quickly dropped into a gurgling coo of satisfaction as he savored the pleasure of pumping out his disgusting, tainted payload. It began to overflow around his overgrown length, mixing into the other juices on the ground. The threesome was finally concluded, and all three participants simply remained in place, taking their time to come down from their climaxes. It felt like an eternity before she realized she could think again. Sweat ran down Diana’s cheek, and the tyrannical heat and lust that gripped her mind faded quickly, replaced with the growing feelings of despair and disgust in her breast. “You… bastards…” she whimpered, even as her heart pounded in her chest. She squirmed on the still-erect cocks inside of her, painfully sensitive, every slight movement she made sending a thrill through her even though she hated it. She could even feel the denseness of the semen, and could feel it shift around whenever she did. And because of it, her loins were already eagerly attempting to please the mammoth shaft buried in them. “Heh, still horny, bitch?” the red-skinned, fire-eyed daemon chuckled as he watched her struggle to move. For a moment, her brow furrowed and she scowled, but then it was gone, and the dark-haired woman rolled her hips on both of her penetrators, her throat bulging as she gulped down saliva. “Ohhh… I can’t lie anymore. That was so good,” she whispered in a needy tone, her lips quivering and lingering open ever-so-slightly as she spoke, starting to gyrate up and down desperately. “I need more. I need you both to fuck me again, and again, and again.” “Then beg for it,” the servant of Khorne growled with a toothy grin. “Please, I need this so badly, I want your dick, I want your cum!” the sweat-soaked, lascivious lady groaned. “Yes, you learn quickly. You will do nicely as a tool for Khorne. And Khorne is very generous. He often offers daemon wives - or husbands - to those who please him. Imagine having all of this, every day! All for the paltry price of spilling blood and emancipating skulls in his name,” the Bloodletter chuckled, starting to hump the lovely officer once more, appreciating the way she gasped and moaned from his powerful movements. Corrupting mortals was, after all, one of the primary pursuits of all daemons. “Yes! I’ll take a billion lives with these hands, claim a billion gallons of blood, a billion skulls for His throne!” the commissar panted, her chest rising and falling as she stared up at the Bloodletter with a vacant, exhausted, but painfully aroused expression. “Excellent. Then I shall violate you, as you wish, until I am satisfied. You will likely break before then, and beg me to stop. I will not,” the red daemon cackled, adjusting his grip on her legs, moving his hands down from her bruised ankles to her toned, round thighs. “I shall join you, then,” hissed the Plaguebearer, before falling back into his characteristic silence, restarting the slow rhythm of pushing his girth into Diana’s tight ass over and over again. “Oh, yes,” Diana breathed as the virile, throbbing members plunged into her at tempo. “Mmm, please, that tongue of yours?” “What about it?” asked the Bloodletter. “I-I want to suck on it,” the officer blushed indecently. “Hah! Alright, whore,” the warrior of Blood laughed. He leaned in, his face hovering mere inches above hers, his hot breath once again washing over her, reeking of blood. The commander’s mouth hung open, and from behind the daemon’s lips came his long and thick tongue. It lingered over her face, and her hazel eyes watching it longingly as it came nearer. Its tip brushed over her lips, and she groaned and met it with her own for just a moment before the Bloodletter plunged the pink appendage into her mouth, struggling and wrestling against hers as he chuckled and continued to pump her puffy mound with leisurely swings of his hips. “Mmm! Mm-mrph!” the commissar moaned around it, sucking on it with all the strength she could muster, clearly eager to please. The daemon explored the reaches of her mouth, running over her teeth, pushing further to press over her soft palette, then sent himself deeper, molesting her tonsils as she squirmed weakly. The Bloodletter watched the woman’s eyes close slowly as she gave herself into the sensations he was inflicting upon her, and his burning orbs also shut, focusing purely on obtaining satisfaction. At that precise moment, her eyes shot open, and her arms finally came down from around the Plaguebearer’s neck. Still suckling around the pink length assaulting her throat, she glanced at the long, sharp shard of glass still impaling her hand, tore a strip from her ragged white blouse, wrapped it around the wider part of the shard, and yanked it out from between her bones with ease – after all, she felt no pain at all. Stab. The shard went right into the daemon’s throat, blood immediately beginning to run down the clear glass. The commissar tore it right out again and stabbed through the thick red flesh again. She was aiming for his arteries – if his form imitated that of a human so accurately, then he would surely have those in a similar position as well. Her guess proved correct, and she ferociously stabbed and slashed at his neck, tearing it to pieces with a wild look in her eyes. Droplets of red splattered over her exposed chest and her face with every successive stab she made, spilling all over the glass and her hand. The daemon did not notice. He merely continued to fuck her, oblivious right up until he felt the sudden lack of strength in his limbs, opened his eyes, saw the blood on her face, and recoiled, but not before the glass shard came up and sliced through his tongue, severing most of it right off. He did not feel a thing as he gagged around the fluids blocking his airway. He stumbled back and collapsed on the ground, holding his pouring throat and struggling to yell, confused. With her other hand, Diana winced and reached up to grab the severed and bloody end of the tongue, which was still buried deep in her throat, and yanked the whole thing out in one smooth motion, tossing it to the ground and gasping for air. “Fuck you, you stupid fuck!” she screamed, a combination of righteous satisfaction and relief flooding her mind. “How do you like that ‘gift?’ Must be great not being able to feel pain! Didn’t even notice, did you?! I thought you’d have been immune to it! Ha! Hahahaha!” the woman laughed hysterically, the relief making her light-headed. Of course, the Plaguebearer had little reason to stop plowing her from behind, so he did not. He merely hissed out a chuckle of derisive amusement. “Clever work, mortal. You truly are worthy of being our general. Papa made that gift powerful enough to temporarily work even on my kin of another alignment. Only one of a higher arcana could resist it immediately. Still, my pact brother will be able to overcome it in due time. As for you, mortal, you will be enjoying many more gifts quite shortly,” the rotten green creature whispered into her ear as he bucked his cock into her bowels with hearty power. The dark-haired woman let out a lusty gasp, and chewed her lip with hot joy for a moment at the gooey sensation tingling up her spine before she shook her head to snap out of it. “Don’t count on it, scum,” she muttered, swinging the shard up behind her into the daemon’s sole remaining eye, burying it deep into his cranium and blinding him completely for the remainder of his existence in the Materium. Coagulated purple gunk seeped out slowly, running over the shard of glass and down the other side of his face, forming a second streak of blood and pus. But he did not budge. “No pain or wound can stop me, mortal maiden,” the Plaguebearer cackled. “The decay of all things is accelerated when it meets my blood. Metal rusts to pieces. Wood hardens and cracks to splinters. Life returns to dust in a matter of seconds. Your weapon is already ruined. I need no eyes while I have you in my grip. I am as absolute as death itself. The stagnation of the universe is manifest in my very being. I am decay. I am entropy. All things are destroyed by Chaos. You pose no more threat to me than does an ant. Submit!” “Glass doesn’t decay, asshole,” Diana said with no small measure of smug satisfaction. She wrenched the shard out of the monster’s ruined eye socket and brought it down into his right wrist, stabbing through the soft and fatty flesh with ease. Desperately avoiding the noxious gunk that slowly poured from the wound, she tore through his arm until she found the joint between his wrist and his arm, and with a few furious slashes, she tore through even that, severing his hand off entirely as the Plaguebearer growled with impotent outrage. The severed hand fell to the ground, immediately dissolving into a pile of maggots and bone. The commissar wrenched herself free of the other one by planting her foot on the Plaguebearer’s torso and pushing off with it, extricating herself from his girth and falling to the ground, finally free. She dropped the glass shard and crawled forward with every bit of strength she had left, but before she had managed to go more than a few meters, she planted her hand in the mud only for her whole arm to give out on her. Surprised, the dark-haired woman lifted her hand out of the mud only to see the maggots crawling through it as the flesh spontaneously rotted. The Plaguebearer laughed a hellish, grating noise, and she realized she must have failed to keep his fluids off of her in her haste. The gangrene was already spreading all the way up her arm. “No!” she cried, despair once more filling her heart. She looked up – there was the Daemonette leading the orgies of her men. There was the Tzeenchian daemon, as gender ambiguous as ever, cloaked in shadow, observing her with avian eyes. And there were cultists all around, watching her, enjoying her suffering. “Fuck!” she shouted, slamming her remaining hand into the ground and rolling onto her back. The Plaguebearer had not moved, but there was little need for him to. Her fate was already sealed. She could feel the contamination already reaching her lungs, making it hard to breathe. It would only be a matter of seconds before it came to her heart, and her life was extinguished. Her vision suddenly went dark – had the infection claimed her eyes? Or was it dissolving her brain already? And then, she could not even hear the murmurs of the cultists, nor feel any of her body. “Nirnvolixgaloisus,” a masculine but also paradoxically feminine voice echoed in her head. “I believe it is your turn to have her.” How was she hearing anything? She could not hear anything else. But in the fading light of her consciousness, she found it difficult to ponder such a question. “Ah, so it is,” replied the beautiful, enchanting voice that she knew belonged to the Daemonette. “Oh dear, look what those brutes have done to her! It shall be remedied at once. They think this is a gift? No pain? Disgusting, you might as well remove the frosting from cake. Begone, plague. Ah, and they’ve left quite the mess between her legs… I’ll have to clean it up!” the voice said seemingly getting louder and sultrier. “They think they know how to corrupt a mortal. Pah. Amateurs. She will be wrapped around my thumb in an hour.” TO BE CONCLUDED… DELETED SCENE The following is the original, unedited version of how the threesome finishes. It strays into bisexual territory (the Bloodletter gives the Plaguebearer a tailjob and so on). If that isn’t your thing, then please feel free to ignore this scene’s existence. Otherwise, read on and enjoy! Tags: Tailjob, m/f/m, GAAAAYYYYYY “Ahn! Fuck! Fuck me! Throne, fuck me! Yes! Yes! Yes!” Diana moaned, no defiant pretense left to her words, squirming in her heat, struggling to ride both of the daemons as hard as she could. “Shit, take it, whore!” the Bloodletter yelled. His next thrust into the commissar nearly made him blow right then and there, but he held strong, resisting the wet softness of her silken folds and the desperation with which she clamped down on him as long as he could. “You are going to cum, brother?” the Plaguebearer asked in his quiet hisses. “I am still not there yet.” “Damn it, what do you expect me to do about it?!” the fire-eyed warrior of Blood asked between heavy grunts. “Do what you always do, brother.” “Fuck! Fine! Ungh!” the beast taking her front growled, his long, powerful leonine tail drifting between his immense, muscled legs, then past the girl, moving upward. The bushy fur at the tip brushed against the absurdly large nutsack of the harbinger of plagues, pushing one of the swollen, dangling, churning testicles aside on its path up. The long tail contined upwards, reaching the base of the rotting creature’s shaft and slowly coiling around it in a small helix. Tightening and wrapping over itself, it began to slide up and down, jerking his comrade off. The coiled red flesh pumped up and down in slow, gradual motions, running over the veins and bumps of the rotten flesh, coming to a slow stop before reversing its direction, and then again. The natural slime that secreted all over it made the motions smooth as the tail loosened and tightened up and down, twisting around more and more. The Plaguebearer cooed like nails on chalkboard, and his head slowly fell back, his wart-covered tongue slipping out of his mouth and licking up in the air, steam wafting off of it. “Those two certainly share a deep bond to do such a thing,” the androgynous feather-covered servant of Tzeentch said, mostly to itself, standing behind a pillar as it observed it all transpire with curiosity and interest. Both of their manhoods began to jerk and pulse much harder inside Diana in response to what the servant of Khorne was doing. Her tongue flicked out of her mouth, the unreasonable pleasure she felt building up to something even greater, only vaguely aware of the heretical act being performed underneath her. “Rrgh! That doing it for you, you revolting fuck?!” the Bloodletter shouted, drowning out the sopping wet sounds of the violent fucking he was giving the commissar. “Yesss! Yesssss! More!” the horned disease daemon hissed. In response to his shameless pleasure, the Bloodletter panted even more heavily, his tail squeezing tighter around his sworn brother’s stiff member. The monsters seemed to revel in each other’s mounting arousal, sharing the heat of the moment as eldritch entities of Chaos first and foremost, and as physical creatures second. Serving as the junction for their passion, trapped in the throes of ecstasy, Diana could feel the dark forces surrounding her, flowing back and forth through her on a dimension she could scarcely comprehend. The tingling tightness in her chest and the heat in her core rose ever higher and burned ever hotter, her prolonged orgasm rapidly developing into something even bigger and greater, something frighteningly incredible. “Shit, hurry up and cum!” the warrior of Khorne roared, the bushy tip of his tail snaking further upward, covering even more of the hard, slimy length. Soon, it met the hot, tight bud of flesh between the officer’s buttocks every time the Plaguebearer made one of his thrusts upward. The red fleshy appendage slithered up and down the throbbing shaft with increasing speed and power, reflecting the Bloodletter’s desperate impatience. “Yessss! Let us fill her up together, brother!” the Plaguebearer hissed. "We cum, together, we corrupt her, together! My seed is for you, just as it is for this filthy maiden!" The Bloodletter's hands released the overwhelmed commissar's legs, sliding down to wrap around the massive, overgrown balls dangling beneath the Plaguebearer, and his fingers tightened over the pulsing veins, feeling the churning, flowing heat held within them. Just how many gallons did those puffy, rotten orbs contain? Not even he was certain, but he fondled them regardless, lustfully, as if trying to squeeze their contents out. He pulled on them and pressed them into his own testicles, forcing them to meet in his sexual frenzy. Evil semen flowed beneath red flesh and green flesh, and the flows seemed to synchronize, some sort of otherworldly pleasure rocking through both daemons' forms as a result of the meeting of their hefty balls. “Hnnngh, gonna blow! Do it! Cum! Cum, you disgusting bastard! Right now! Cum for me!” the Bloodletter grunted, tightening his grip around his partner's sack until he felt it surge against his fingers, swelling even larger, able to feel the denseness begin to flow out of them, and his own cock throbbed with desire at the sensation of the other shaft's weight, only separated by an inch of a woman's soft inner flesh. Just as Diana’s pleasure seemed to peak a second time, just as she was certain she was going to die or go insane, the last vestiges of the red-skinned monster’s strength snapped, and mid-thrust, a powerful blast of hot semen exploded from him with an audible splurch, his testes throbbing upwards from the sheer volume of cum they were pumping out and through his girth. He snarled and roared in his furious climax, pumping spurt after spurt of his thick juices into her depths, giving a few more heavy thrusts into her thick mound for good measure. He stood tall and still, allowing every last drop of his huge load to shoot forth, sinewy muscles taut and his bulk shaking slightly with effort. With her legs spread wide and up in the air, a stream of his musky spunk overflowed from her passage, spilling to the ground beneath them. His hot breath poured from his equine mouth and washed over the overwhelmed commissar’s face. "Take it! Take it all, slut! Bear my child!" Diana’s voice cracked as she felt the monster’s member throbbing and pouring hot denseness into her, that one last straw breaking the camel’s back. The white-hot electricity in her spine jolted all the way up, the pleasure mounting to the point that she could not think, nor feel, and even her consciousness grew hazy. She gushed shamelessly as spurts of daemonic seed saturated her folds, and spilled deeper than anything she'd ever felt before. Her teeth gritted, drool running down her chin as preventing even that became impossible for her. Her toes curled tight, her fingers twitching around the Plaguebearer’s neck uncontrollably, automatically searching for some sort of grip, but nothing could provide that to her. She was in a state of unthinking bliss, utterly enthralled in bestial ecstasy. The daemon of disease was not far behind the other two. Within a few more brief bucks, his grimy fingers squeezed the commissar’s toned waist and his massive cock began to pulse uncontrollably in her ass, surging underneath the vice of the Bloodletter's tight tail. Its testes bounced in the grip of the red daemon's hands as they began to pump their contents upward. The creepy, unnaturally silent monster unleashed a shuddering howl that sounded like a dying animal, and streams of spoilt semen erupted from his tip, the pungent gunk splattering deep inside of her, driving her to groan weakly and shiver just as she felt as though she might start to finally come down from her second zenith. With the absurd size of his bloated testes, the sheer volume of fluid that throbbed out of the avatar of Decay, second by second, gulfed even that of the Bloodletter. His piercing howl quickly dropped into a gurgling coo of satisfaction as he savored the pleasure of pumping out his disgusting, tainted payload. It began to overflow around his overgrown length, mixing into the other juices on the ground. The threesome was finally concluded, and all three participants simply remained in place, taking their time to come down from their climaxes. "Mrph," the Bloodletter grunted in satisfaction, groping his partner's huge balls some more as his tail released from around the daemon of pestilence's spunk-soaked shaft. "You came pretty hard. Her ass must be good." "And you have surely impregnated her, brother," the Plaguebearer said as his puffy, rotten nuts pulsed comfortably against the enormous red hands that gripped them. At last, the Nurgle daemon's hands reached down to return the favor, squeezing the Bloodletter's tight, full testicles. "Such wonderful, powerful nuts you carry." "Fuck, she's still so damn tight," the red one groaned, sweat pouring down his god-sculpted muscles as he began to slowly push his hips forward and back again, lightly humping her, savoring the feeling of her hole now semen-stuffed, steaming, hotter than ever. She was now held up only by the strength of their cocks, but she was simply too mad with pleasure to care.