A short story to accompany "A Sister Of Battle, A Slave Of Slaanesh". (Now with pictures included!)
(WARNING: Contains Dubcon, Mind Break, and Tentacle Sex)
Sister Serena knew she should have purged the heretical text with cleansing fire the moment she set eyes upon it. But something drew her forward, closer to the black altar and the daemonic tome that lay upon its obsidian surface. Had she not been cut off from her Battle Sisters on the surface and trapped alone in this subterranean lair, she would have resisted, bolstered by their presence. But the breathless whispers she had heard since setting foot in this profane temple spoke to… deeper, hidden parts of her. Those whispers now coalesced into images at the forefront of her thoughts; promises of fulfilment she had never known and dreams made reality. Yes… the dreams. She knew of what the whispers referred to; sinful thoughts that she had kept hidden from her Order since she was a Novice, that would have seen her condemned to a Penitent Engine were they ever discovered. Lustful fantasies that crept into her mind in the dead of night as she lay alone in her cell, no matter how hard she prayed or tried to supress them. Fantasies not of simple ...
The following is a 300+ pages illustrated story. all characters are over the age of 18, and the story surrounds two step-sisters that are not of actual blood connection. The story contains several dark parts and has different horror and violent aspects to it. None of which is for the purpose of cheap snuff, but rather, to depict the cruelty and merciless nature of the underground world of debauchery. The world is a fictional one, and it does not share our world's history or development.
Page 232
A week had gone by. Sadie's wounds were all healed, and her master was waiting for her to wake up.
As Sadie slowly came to, her fingers sought out her own wet holes. With instinctual automation, she started rubbing herself, while suckling on her own thumb.
She took small breaks from sucking, as she opened her mouth to breathe in a quiet, but snorting sound, before continuing to snack on her own pink thumb.
She had her senses restored, even her nose was unplugged, but muscle memory kept her previous habits alive.
Her master slowly massaged her neck and throat with a ...
The battle between the forces of good and evil, the host of Heaven and Hell's armada, is never-ending. The struggle has lasted through eternity, and will continue even past the end of Time; the battle is waged at every level. Sometimes that conflict spills over onto the earthly plane, and we glimpse faces of that titanic, endless war...
The demoness looked around. The alley was filthy; it stank of rotting garbage, stale fear, sweat and base lusts. Shielded from the Polite World by a chance dogleg of wall, the denizens of the alley indulged their sordid appetites. Pushers sold their wares, prostitutes and gigolos tiredly offered themselves for rent. Some of those rentals were conducted right here in this alley. Over by a barrel, a jaded blonde girl knelt submissively, passively accepting the pathetic cock being rammed into her mouth by one of those members of the Polite World who had taken a brief side-step off the path of propriety, prosperity and success. A pimp counted his roll while two other girls paraded listlessly, their clothes grubby and in ill repair, tarted up with cheap mascara, lipstick and hastily applied perfume. She smiled. Life was good.
Ethereal, unseen, she strode ...
