Warhammer 40K Fan Fiction ❯ Wed to Faith ❯ Chapter 10: Anticipation ( Chapter 10 )

On the world of Avalon IX, Arbites Sergeant Horatiatus looked at the corpse. They had raided a drug den, but it appeared they were too late - someone else got there first. Most worrying was that the gangers had been killed with bolter rounds, their bodies torn up and splattered over the walls. A couple had been set on fire, one somehow shattered and pulverised as though hit by a giant shockwave, but most had been killed by bolters.

 

“Boltguns are very rare, expensive weapons. This was no minor fight or robbery.”

 

“It looks like a highly-financed gang hit.” Constable Thaddius said.

 

“Then it's time,” the sergeant said while sliding his visor on, “we hit back.”

 

“YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!” someone screamed outside, pulling out a bolt pistol. Explosive rounds tore through the air, erupting into fire and metal shards as they struck the side of the Arbites Repressor. Fortunately it withstood the impact, armoured enough, but it got their attention.

 

Horatiatus didn't even bother shouting out for the attacker to drop the bolt pistol. Even as the Repressor heavy flamer whirled around to torch the foe, Horatiatus pulled his hell pistol out and fired. The bolt of energy pierced the attacker's heart, causing him to fall.

 

“They never learn. Check for gang symbols, we need to know who we're at war with.”

 

“I'm afraid we're not dealing with a gang here,” a female figure said from an alleyway, stepping out to reveal her neon leather-and-spandex-clad form and aquamarine Mohawk with purple ponytail, “they were hit by the forces of Chaos.”

 

“Stop right there, Miss Atraxia. We're on even terms, perhaps, but I want to know how you know this - or indeed, how you know about Chaos at all. That is a capital offence, after all.”

 

“Not for me. I regret needing to show who I really am, but in these circumstances…”

 

She pulled something out of her cleavage: a chain around her neck held the icon that marked her as being an Inquisitor. It had her information encoded in: she was an Inquisitor. The hologram that issued forth showed her face.

 

“You may call me Inquisitor Lady Jena Tox from now on. I'm afraid we are being targeted by Slaaneshi forces, and I will have to take control of the Adeptus Arbites to fight this plague.”

 

“I understand, ma'am. Our forces are your forces, our resources are your resources. Does this mean, when I arrested you, when you were put in prison for a month, when you were issued a judicial caning…”

 

“Yes, it was necessary to keep my cover. No, I hold no grudges. What the various people did was the right thing. For the record, you can expect assistance from my gang in this matter.”

 

“So what do we do now, ma'am?”

 

“Now, we call in some assistance from my allies. This is just the start, as I'm afraid we're looking at war.”

 

 

Things were looking good for the traitors, to say the least: they knew they would have assistance of the Emperor's Children, and Slaaneshi daemons as well. They were sure they could rely on the Dark Eldar too, though betrayal is something that cuts both ways. And their own forces were quite impressive: a thousand men, one hundred tanks. The sheer volume of firepower they would be bringing to the battle was sure to make a difference, and free them from the Imperium. No longer would they be bound to the laws and regulations, having to offer tithes and taxes or run their decisions past the higher-ups.

 

“Everything seems to be ready, Commander. All we need to do now is wait for them to make the first move.”

 

“Excellent. Contact our allies and alert them to the situation. I want everything ready, the quicker the battle, the better.”

 

 

“Chaos forces infiltrating, you say?” Kezia asked over her interplanetary comms system.

 

“I'm afraid so. We're looking at the minions of Slaanesh, including corrupted Astartes.”

 

“Then it's worse than I feared. We had reason to believe traitors were residing on your planet - they had made contact with a xenos faction and provided information that led to them breaking into this system. We were going to investigate but with your confirmation… so, you asked me for help, but at the same time you're helping me.”

 

“Xenos? What kind are we talking about here? I'm not sure the two are related.”

 

“The Dark Eldar - a pirate faction of our pointy-eared sometimes-allies, sometimes-enemies. From what the captives have said, it sounds like the heresy is deep-seated in the planet, and linked to your problems.”

 

“Hm… that's most troubling. What kind of assistance can you provide?”

 

“At the moment, I am enjoying the hospitality of the Adepta Sororitas, who have a vested interest in this matter. I could bring large forces from a pair of orders to assist in the spearhead, but as for my own… I haven't much of a private militia. I'll see if I can pull some cords, but you may want to ask for the assistance of nearby planets. We might very well need everything we can get our hands on, and even then, I can't guarantee we'll have enough.”

 

“I'll see what we can do. The assistance of the Adepta Sororitas would be a huge help. Let me know when you can make it here.”

 

“Will do. Bye.”

 

As the feed was cut, Kezia frowned. It was worrying - if Slaanesh was behind everything, then it had to have been planned from the start. The idea had to be to draw her in, following a small rebel faction allied with Dark Eldar. There was no way that it couldn't be a trap. So the question simply remained: when they sprung the trap, would they have the resources to power through and seize victory anyway?

 

 

“So, Sister Carmine, what do we have?” Nyvanna asked the Sister-Dialogus.

 

“You will be amazed by this, Canoness. I know you like utilising technology in combat. Every advantage, and letting machines be destroyed in place of humans killed, and even just making big explosions. So now I will present… the Lady Calamity Mk I.”

 

The doors to the empty hill-top cathedral opened to reveal that it was not in fact empty. A giant section had been cleared out to produce the towering monstrosity within. It was an Imperator Titan, standing at about 60 metres tall. The titan was built to withstand an incredible amount of punishment, and from the weapons mounted on it, to dish out just as much.

 

“There is considerable holding capacity in each leg, as well as in the torso and shoulders for supportive fire squads. The arms are equipped with `titan killer' lasers and bastion-breacher missiles. On the carapace, in the castle you'll find two flamestorm cannons, one inferno cannon, a volcano cannon, a plasma blaster and a gatling blaster. It is powered by a plasma engine and has considerable void shield protection. Every individual component has been blessed thrice and anointed in holy water. Nothing they possess could possibly stand up against this.”

 

“By the Emperor… this is just what we needed!” Canoness Nyvanna shouted. Her eyes sparkled at the thought of that colossus striding into battle, raining destruction upon all foes of the Imperium.

 

“You are wonderful indeed, Carmine. Having this constructed in time for what might be one of our biggest battles ever… I will have you covered in medals from head to toe!”

 

“We all do what we can to serve the Emperor and humanity, Canoness.”

 

“That we do. And soon, we'll all be doing quite a lot. I just hope enough survive this to rebuild, and to continue serving. And that we don't get too caught up in war that we forget to be human. I've looked into the cold, dead eyes of many guardsmen who had been turned into soulless killers, and we can't afford to let that happen.”

 

“I agree, Canoness. I pray daily that we will emerge victorious and human.”

 

Nyvanna embraced the Sister Dialogus, stroking her hair.

 

“Someone like you, I imagine, will always be human. Let's go now, I think the Inquisitor may wish to know of the support we can offer.”

 

As the two left, the giant doors closing behind them, Sisters Amarice and Tyra gave a sigh of relief, slowly raising their heads from the cockpit in the giant head of the Titan and looking out.

 

“…we're clear. Let's get dressed and hurry on out.”

 

“Good idea. How embarrassing it would have been to get caught. And to think we only came up here to replace a fuse…”

 

“I know. Still, it works now. Perhaps the machine spirits even saw something they liked. We need everyone in good spirits for this.”

 

 

Sister Gwendolyn stood nude before Palatine Vera, blushing and staring at the ground.

 

“I will admit that I'm disappointed, Gwendolyn. You must not try to injure your allies, and should never let your anger get the best of you.”

 

“I know, Palatine Vera, and I deeply regret my actions. I ask that you punish me even more than Mistress Despoena prescribed.”

 

“Yes, I think that is a good idea. To instil a lesson in you, and also to cleanse you of guilt. You feel this guilt because what you did was wrong - unlike the other times you came before me, where you just expected too much of yourself. This time, there is a real reason for it. So it was suggested I smack your bottom red raw? I will do so, but I will do so every evening for the next few days. You will also, every morning after you bathe but before you dress, report to me. I will remind you of the pain you caused by violating your bottom hole. And you are additionally to use your mouth to service not only Jennifer's anus, but those of her entire unit as well. I will arrange for this tomorrow.”

 

A tear trickled down Gwendolyn's cheek as she thought of the utter shame. But not only that, her Palatine put so much trust in her, she knew she had let Vera down. Is this how I show my gratitude for her trust?

 

“Okay, place yourself over my lap.”

 

The Celestian did as she was told, draping herself into position. Vera raised her knee a little, elevating Gwendolyn's posterior to a better angle, and rubbed the pale, smooth globes. Though not pale for much longer.

 

“This is going to be very long, hard and painful, but I want you to remember you brought this upon yourself.”

 

“Yes, Palatine.” Gwendolyn replied quietly, a bare whisper.

 

The Palatine's hand slapped down with full force. She didn't hold back at all, her strong arm powering her hand against the soft, milky orbs of flesh. From the very first, a handprint formed, but it barely had time to even properly distinguish itself from the rest of her skin before Vera struck again. Over and over she slapped the bare flesh presented before her, each spank causing the muscles beneath the skin to ripple.

 

It didn't actually take long for a bright pink glow to consume the Celestian's rump, and she was whimpering slightly, but that was not enough for Vera. Every time she struck, the buttocks would bounce beneath her hand, jiggling and giving glimpses at the treasures that lie between, particularly her sore, tortured rosebud. She wanted Gwen's buttocks to feel equally punished, so just continued the blitz against her fiery, saucy bottom.

 

“I hope I'm getting through to you here. If you come before me again having done such things, well, I don't want to have to think of something to do to you then.”

 

Gwendolyn decided she agreed entirely. She had no desire to put herself in that position again. Already her sore bottom cheeks were beginning to turn red, but that still wasn't enough. She let out a sob, then soon started wailing, trying not to kick her legs out from the amount of pain building up in her rear.

 

“Yes, it looks like you are learning your lesson. You're lucky then - lucky that this is only continuing a few days, and that you won't be brought before me for this a second time.”

 

Finally, she stopped, her hand throbbing with hot pain. She looked down over the Celestian's bottom, and saw that her cheeks were a deep red, searing and almost blistered in places, just from a hand spanking. She nodded to herself.

 

“A job well done if I do say so myself. Okay, you may rise and dress, Celestian-Superior Gwendolyn.”

 

Gwendolyn did rise, somewhat slowly, but then hugged the Palatine. She sobbed into Vera's bosom for some time as the Palatine merely held her, stroking her hair.

 

“It's all right, it's okay. The punishment is over for tonight. I know you're sorry for your actions.”

 

“…thank you, Palatine Vera.”

 

Before dressing (rather painfully, in the case of her knickers), she kissed Vera's cheek.

 

“Thank you for helping improve the person that I am.”

 

“That's okay, now go to bed and get some sleep.”

 

 

“All right, gang.” Inquisitor Lady Jena Tox said to the assembled girls, “Some of you are aware of this, but not all. I am in fact an Inquisitor.”

 

She held her rosaries aloft, the hologram beaming out to the gasps of shock in the girls who made her gang - the Hell-born Harridans.

 

“That is right, you have all been working for the Imperium of Man, yes, even as we broke lesser laws. Think of the information gathered - consider that mere days after we noticed genestealer presence, the Ordo Xenos happened to show up and deal with them. This can also be thought of as training for each of you. And now it is about to pay off. Ladies, we are at war. As the Ordo Hereticus, our duty is to seek out the heretic, the traitor, the mutant and the witch, and put them to the torch. Well I'm afraid a cult dedicated to Slaanesh has infiltrated society here. They have called not only upon their daemon and Noise Marine allies, but also the insidious Eldar corsairs. Soon, there will be a war that will decide the fate not only of this world, but of the entire sector.”

 

“Does this mean we're no longer a gang, a family?” `Dice' Euphrati asked, taking a sip of her amasec. “Are we now a militia, all rank and file, uniforms and regulations?”

 

She wasn't defiant in her questions, merely… worried. For every member of the gang, it was all they had - no family or friends outside the sorority of criminals, and there was a tense fear spreading through all who weren't previously aware of the situation.

 

“Hardly. I'll be taking you all with me as a unit. I trust you girls more than anyone else in the galaxy. I can arrange for some mesh or carapace armour, but other than that, no uniforms. You can even spray the armour in our colours, if you like. We'll also be making use of a little vehicle for added protection, one that I'm afraid needs to be decorated. Miss Inez, if you please!”

 

From around the corner, a lumbering monster of a tank rolled forwards, tracks tearing the ground up. Guns glistened everywhere: six boltguns on each side sponson, a pair of powerful assault cannons in the front cupola, and both a storm bolter and a multi-melta on the top. The front was even lined with grenade launchers.

 

“This, girls, is a Land Raider Crusader, and we will certainly be crusading. Feel free to check it out, and to tag it as much as you like. But not just yet. Because I recall that Phebia still has to pay back her debt to us for failing to take out the sentries in our last raid.”

 

“Aw, I was hoping we'd be dropping all of that with the change from gang to Inquisition.” The pink-haired juve said, walking to the front of the machine.

 

“Hahaha, not a chance. Now come on, you know the drill by now.”

 

“Yeah yeah.” Phebia said, undoing the buckle of her belt and peeling her ultra-tight bright yellow shorts down to her ankles, revealing a lack of underwear and a smooth-shaven sex. She then rolled her equally tight neon pink tank top up over her small breasts, capped by pale, erect nipples, before bending over, placing her hands on the hull of the Land Raider.

 

“Okay, so what do you say, Phebia?”

 

“…I'm a bad, bad girl and I need my bottom smacked to stop me being so naughty.”

 

She blushed - having to say such things was worse than being exposed in front of the gang, but just about everyone had gone through it at some time or another. She waited as Jena slid her own belt out, thick leather and studded with metal. She only ever used the side where the metal studs just had flat bases pressed into the leather, never with the points facing outwards.

 

“If you girls would like to count to twenty?”

 

Phebia groaned. She was hoping for only five or ten lashes, but it seemed there was no such luck. It'd be the full twenty, which would leave her bottom striped, red, swollen and sore for the next day. Worst of all, it'd make it very hard not to earn extras, and she really didn't want to do that.

 

Jena swung the belt, and it collided with the juvenile gang member's bottom. Almost immediately, before the skin even stopped wobbling and turning pink, everyone cried out “One!”

 

The next slammed home, just a few inches lower, to the cry of “Two!”

 

It was immediately obvious to Jena that Phebia's bottom would only take about five lashes before she needed to double over - or move down to the thighs. But she shrugged, she had already declared it would be twenty.

 

“Three! Four! Five! Six!” the gang shouted as each lash of the studded leather struck, making loud cracking noises and causing red stripes along her flesh, with tiny white circles that would be sure to blister. The last of the bunch had hit her sit spots, and she very nearly let go. But not quite. Next would only be worse though, as the following four all landed across the backs of her thighs. Phebia couldn't help but to tear her hands away from the hull, gripping her cheeks.

 

“Owowowowow!”

 

She then realised what she had done, but knew it was too late. She rubbed a moment more before returning her hands to where they belonged.

 

“One penalty stroke.” The Inquisitor said as she lined up for the next.

 

She began again from the buttocks, ripping into them. Every time, the gang called out the number, though it seemed (incorrectly) to Phebia that they were counting backwards, dragging it out further! Her bottom was a mess of red stripes and tiny blisters, and she pulled her hands away thrice more before finally hearing the shout of “Twenty!”

 

“Well, four penalties all up, that's not so good for you.” Jena said. “After all, another one and you would have doubled the total number of lashes. But I'll make you an offer. I'll halve the penalty to two per, you just get to share my hammock tonight.”

 

“I'll accept your offer!” Phebia immediately said. Anything was better than taking four cracks of the belt across each of the penalty zones.

 

“Okay, but for now… you know the drill.”

 

The Juve nodded, turning around and holding her modest breasts up. The belt fell once, smacking across the tops of both of them, then again, just hitting the side of her left soft mound. Then the last one hit, landing right on top of her right nipple, causing a shriek of pain. But she didn't give a big reaction other than that, merely trying to shake the sting out of her breasts (to the amusement of the rest of the gang). She then spread her legs as far as her shorts would allow.

 

“I am ready for the next penalty…”

 

Two flicks of the belt snapped up between her legs. Each time, it collided with the lips of her sex, cracking into the soft petals and leaving a burning pink stripe. Finally, she turned around and bent over, knowing what she had to do but dreading it. She reached back and spread her swollen cheeks, exposing her sex even more, but also revealing her small, brown, tight, puckered ass hole.

 

The leather strap swept upwards, smacking against the rear of her vulva, and also stinging her rose bud. She yelped, gritted her teeth, and waited. Jena took her time, turning the belt over in her hand and stepping around to the other side, ready to swing downwards.

 

As the strap cracked against her crack, almost blistering her twitching pucker, she screamed in pain. And the worst wasn't even over.

 

“Now that you've had your penalties, ask for what comes next.”

 

“Please…” Phebia tried, then clenched her eyes shut before asking again, “Please give this naughty girl a good hard fucking up her ass hole.”

 

“With pleasure, Phebia!”

 

The Inquisitor quickly slid her pants all the way down, revealing her own bottom and vagina to the onlookers. It took her mere moments to buckle a harness on, with a hard plastic toy attached to it. She carefully lubricated it with a slippery gel, then stepped closer.

 

“Are you ready?”

 

Eyes tightly shut, Phebia nodded, knowing it would hurt even worse given the strapping on her anus. She was right, too. First, it felt cold, mercifully cold, soothing the soft tissue as the toy pressed up against her pucker. But then more force was applied, and it started to push past her sphincter, past the clenched anal ring until the toy was pushed all the way in.

 

Once it was inside, Jena started rocking her hips, drawing it two thirds out before thrusting back in to the hilt. As she continued to ram her fake member into the Juve's tender back door, she closed her eyes peacefully, keeping a steady rhythm up as the base of the toy rubbed against her clit. Occasionally she delivered a slap to Phebia's already-swollen ass, occasionally she rolled her hips slightly to twist the toy inside her depths. But soon enough, she was gasping and shuddering, the base of it having done its job. She tightly squeezed Phebia's hips, and powerfully thrusted back and forth, ignoring the girl's squeals, as she reached her plateau of pleasure. Finally, she let out a low, throaty moan and withdrew, leaving Phebia's gaping anus to close of its own accord as she detached the harness.

 

“Okay, now you can all check it out and do any modifications you want!” she declared, pulling her pants up as though nothing had happened at all. The gang was quick to crowd around the Crusader, piling in as the assault ramp opened to reveal the seating space and storage compartments for their gear.

 

“Let's get some cush on the seats there, I'm not letting my arse get pounded up by a bumpy ride… especially if I earn some of what Phebia just got.”

 

“Hey, want the sides in pink?”

 

“Wait a minute, I'm putting a flower on one of the track guards.”

 

“A flower? I'm putting a penis on my side!”

 

“Haha, you love your penises, right? Would it be bad taste to spray `Flare loves the cock' on?”

 

“Let's make the guns green and purple!”

 

Very soon, they were all at work, making the Land Raider Crusader truly unique, in a way that the enemy would never forget…

 

 

That night, Phebia approached the Inquisitor's hammock. Some slept on bedrolls, others on couches in their base, one or two even had beds. The Inquisitor had a hammock - and one that could accommodate two people with little trouble.

 

“So, dear. Tonight you'll be joining me. You're quite right to leave your nightshirt off, you certainly won't be needing it, just as I too elect to sleep in the nude tonight. Hop up in, there we go.”

 

The Inquisitor watched as the pink-haired ganger clambered in, limbs awkwardly splayed as the hammock rocked back and forth. She then climbed in with no trouble, easing herself next to the Juve, but with one thing being quite obvious to Phebia.

 

“Um, Jena? Aren't you the wrong way round?”

 

“Not at all. Now come, shimmy towards the middle a bit.”

 

After some awkward shuffling, Phebia realised what the idea was: Jena's crotch was at eye-level, and she imagined that the Inquisitor had a similar view. It was confirmed when Jena grabbed her and rolled her on top.

 

“See? This is the plan. Now you are in a position to use your tongue on whatever parts of my body come to mind, and I can do the same to you.”

 

She then delivered a slap to Phebia's sex.

 

“Of course, I can do so much more as well.” She said, before leaning up and placing a kiss on the slapped flesh, sliding her tongue up and down.

 

“Come on, be a good girl, unless you'd rather take those other penalty lashes, but I'd have to deliver the full four to each…”

 

She needn't give the (possibly empty) threat - Phebia had already lowered her head, and exhaled over the Inquisitor's pouting lower lips. She then placed a kiss on her clit, swirling her tongue around to tease and pleasure her leader. Perhaps the punishment wasn't quite so bad…

 

 

Gwendolyn gingerly approached the sleeping quarters, still holding her pink buttocks open to reveal her sore, red anus, just minutes ago roughly penetrated by the Palatine's fingers. Vera knocked on the door, and was greeted by Jennifer in her night gown.

 

“Oh! Sister Gwendolyn, Palatine Vera, how can I assist you?”

 

“Oh, it is Gwendolyn here who will be assisting you. As part of her punishment, you understand.”

 

“I don't think that's necessary - she was punished very severely for it yesterday, and there was no real malice… but I defer to your judgement, Palatine Vera.”

 

“This will help ensure that Sister Gwendolyn forgives herself. I would like you to get your unit together, after bathing, and all lined up.”

 

“Yes, Palatine Vera. Expect us all ready within a few minutes!”

 

It didn't take long at all. Soon, they all stood in a row: Celestian Superior Jennifer, Sister Abigail, Sister Deleria, Sister Stella, Sister Celia, Sister Coda, Sister Yumi, Sister Sunie, Sister Sola and Sister Kyra, the full unit of ten Celestians. All were nude, displaying a row of breasts of varying sizes and shapes, and all with clean-shaven mounds.

 

“Okay girls, turn around and bend over. One by one, Gwendolyn here is going to service you, and she'll make sure you like it.”

 

Blushing, the Celestian Superior lowered herself to her knees and shuffled over to Jennifer, reaching up and parting the girl's soft, creamy ass cheeks. She leaned in, glad they had all just washed, and pressed her lips up against the soft, tender pucker. Wanting to make sure she did a good job, she turned her head, sliding her lips over the skin and moving them about to rub repeatedly. Then she extended her tongue, gently rimming Jen's back door and probing the very tip past her anal ring. Jennifer, for her part, moaned quietly, crossing and un-crossing her toes as she squirmed about in pleasure.

 

Gwendolyn kept going, pleasuring her equal with everything she had, and only stopping once Vera placed a hand on her shoulder. She blinked, and noticed that Jennifer was gasping, a trickle of juice running down her thigh. She had brought her fellow Celestian Superior to climax just by stimulating her rear, so she licked up along the surface to clean the sticky love juice away, making sure to clean Jennifer's hot garden of delight with her tongue. Then she moved on to Sister Abigail, sporting a set of cane welts on her full, pale buttocks, as well as an aquila tramp-stamp electoo.

 

Shrugging, she just carefully spread the cheeks before her and leaned in to offer pleasure with her mouth, Vera smiling the whole time.

 

 

A few days later, all was ready. The fleet had been arranged, with the Imperial Navy assisting in transportation - and it was needed. With hundreds of Sisters, countless vehicles and a pair of Imperator Titans - it appeared the Sisters Dialogus of the Order of the Emerald Shroud had been working with their counterparts in the Order of the Sacred Lilac - it was necessary to get so many space-faring vessels together. With the Planetary Guard put on duty, the entire Sisterhood was leaving the planet to go to war. They all gathered inside the space hulks, the inner halls looking more like gothic cathedrals than anything else. Prayers were uttered, rites of war were chanted, songs of praise were sung. The Sisters were all in high spirits, because although each one knew she could easily be dead within a week, they all were determined to crush the heretics and win victory for the forces of the Emperor.

 

This did not prevent the usual traditions and rituals from passing, however. Sisters Tyra and Amarice had finally confessed to their sexual activity in the cockpit, and their punishment was to be conducted in the great hall with anyone free to watch. For the act itself, they were to be tawsed on their sexes, the very things that got them into trouble. But for the four days it took to confess, they would receive one stroke of the cane, per day, between their cheeks. The Sisters just hoped they would have fully recovered from the pain by the time landfall was made.

 

And so it was that the pair were stripped nude, and commanded to lie face-up on the tables, legs raised into the air and spread wide apart to accept the tawse. Each had to look the Canoness in the eye as she strapped their mounds and inner folds mercilessly. Again and again, the leather bit into their flesh, working the skin towards a brilliant red, and causing it to swell ferociously. But then they had to simply roll over onto their burning fronts, reach back and spread their buttocks in preparation for the cane.

 

Fortunately it was the light cane that Canoness Nyvanna picked up and swished through the air. There was a small mercy, it seemed, but nevertheless, the pair trembled as they held themselves open for her.

 

There was a swish and a crack as the rod struck along Tyra's groove. She yelped, and a thin, pink welt started to form over her rosebud. Nyvanna then moved over to Amarice and gave her the same treatment. She managed to take hers in silence, but was clearly in pain. The next struck Tyra, hitting the exact same spot and causing the welt to swell further, becoming red and incredibly sore - so much so that she wailed in pain. The second one on Amarice reduced her to tears, too, as the pair of weals crossed over. The next pair was a little easier - she intentionally aimed to the side, to mostly hit fresh skin, but tears were still shed from both girls. But the last was the worst by far. Again, straight down the middle. Both Tyra and Amarice wailed in agony as the thin welts combined to make one thicker, purple stripe down the crack of each.

 

“And you can lie there and hold yourselves open for the next ten minutes, too. Anyone is free to come up and look, maybe have a little feel if they want.”

 

And so it was that both girls lay there, crying as the welts throbbed between their bottom cheeks, and their tawsed mounds burned with pain, and indeed, some did take the opportunity to enjoy the view, or to reach out and touch the tortured skin. One Sister was so bold as to lick along the weals of the cane, though it did provide some relief. The two Sisters knew they would be very lucky if they were all better by planetfall.

 

 

“Okay girls,” Inquisitor Tox began, “big news. Our allies are arriving in a day or two. We're looking at being joined by another Inquisitor, as well as a fuckload of Battle Sisters. There will also be Arbites support, and some assistance from more-or-less local Imperial Guard and Titan Legions. Indeed, this battle is going to have so many people and resources that even should we win, the losses will take hundreds of years to recoup. But we can't afford to lose, so that's the only option we have. Are you all ready for this? Are you willing to go the entire distance with me, Warp-be-damned about the consequences?”

 

“Fuck yes!” the gang shouted in unison. A tear sprung to Jena's eye: her girls really loved her, and would travel with her to Hell itself. She promised herself that she would protect them, and see them through to a bright new future.

 

“Thank you all… I love each and every one of you, and with you on my side, I know that we'll make it through. Every inch the forces of Chaos try to take will cost them a hundred lives. We will fight them until their numbers run out and they have made no progress, then we will exterminate them on our own ground. So, enjoy your new armour, your grenades - Frags, Kraks, gas and plasma - and enjoy your power swords and Hell Pistols. This is going to be to the death.”

 

The aquamarine-haired, multiple-pony-tailed Isis Agarthes stepped forward and hugged the Inquisitor.

 

“You'll always be the gang leader to us, even if you do carry the badge of office. Now there's just one thing we want you to do, to help our spirits soar, and there won't be time for that in battle…”

 

“What is that?” Jena asked, curious as to what they wanted.

 

As one, the gangers all un-buckled their belts and slid their pants, leggings, shorts and underwear down, revealing a row of vulvas, pursed pussy lips, and for some, trimmed and dyed strips of pubic hair. They then all turned around and bent over, legs spread. A row of attractive pert bottoms faced the Inquisitor, and she smiled, licking her lips as she unbuckled her belt.

 

“Right you are, then. One arse-warming for each of you, with penalties… for those who say please.”

 

She got to work, swinging the leather repeatedly into buttocks of a variety of shapes, sizes and colours, watching flesh tan, redden and jiggle beneath the force of it. She would have a long, delicious hour ahead of her, and they would all enjoy it. If only she had the time or energy to follow it up by giving each and every one of them a proper fucking.”