#traitor marines

[thegodemperorsmycopilot]

[lumi-klovstad-games]

Sin in Steel: the Steelfold Saviours

In the Grim Darkness of the Far Future, there is only War.

This war has a siren song, a melodious seduction which sings to those for whom fighting is their cause and reason, and no faction in the Imperium of Man embodies that more than perhaps the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines of the Imperium.

Divided into countless thousands of chapters, these superhuman warriors were divided so by Roboute Guilliman in the aftermath of the Horus Heresy for the protection of the Imperium. The Heresy had laid bare how vulnerable the Imperium truly was to teeming masses of these superhuman warriors that had decided obedience to the Emperor and his vision was no longer a priority, and Guilliman wished to protect the Empire from such masses forming in the future.

The rise of the horror of the Steelfold Saviours in M36 proved his concerns to be absolutely justified. Indeed, their omnipresent threat, spreading from world to world like a steel plague, may never be truly defeated or destroyed.

It is unclear precisely when or where the chapter first known as the “Tempered Protectors” was first formed as a sprout from the seed of the Red Talons Chapter, themselves a second founding chapter drawn from original Iron Hands Legion stock. The Tempered Protectors inherited from their fathers an intense and burning hatred for the Traitor Legions and all influence of Chaos. Holding fast to the creed of the Iron Hands, they fought endless battles as they awaited the return of their Primarch, Ferrus Manus. 

Unlike their progenitors, however, the Tempered Protectors held a peculiar reverence for the augury of their Machine Spirits. They believed the human form, riddled with weakness and frailty, hindered their martial prowess. They lamented the weakness of the flesh; its softness prone to injury, its biology vulnerable to disease, its essence imperiled by the risk of mutation and Chaos corruption. Like all Iron Hands successors, they sought the strength and certainty that steel provided, and became uncannily adroit at cybernetic augmentation and reparative surgeries. They quickly developed a reputation for going much further with these replacements and augmentations than most Iron Hands would typically be known to do. The Tempered Protectors regularly pushed the boundaries of augmetics to forge their bodies into even more formidable instruments of war, all the better to bring death to the servants of Chaos, and exact revenge for the Imperium upon the traitor legions. Their battlefield prowess was undeniable, their loyalty unquestioned. Yet, whispers began to follow them – rumors of their near-religious devotion to the Machine Spirit and the unsettling extent of their practice of extensive self-augmentation. However, their victories spoke louder than any murmurings, and the Adeptus Mechanicus counted them dearly as highly favored allies.

This reverence for the machine took a sinister turn during the late 35th millennium. A new generation of Iron Fathers gradually emerged, and at their head, a new and focused Chapter Master named Haedron Agelastos. All of them grew obsessed with the concept of achieving physical perfection. They saw the human form as a flawed vessel, susceptible to pain, disease, and the insidious whispers of Chaos. This obsession birthed a new doctrine – “The Great Upgrade”. Veterans of a hundred battles, their bodies riddled with scars and ravaged by the rigors of war, championed this radical notion. They believed that by replacing their flesh with flawless machine components, they would become the ultimate warriors, incapable of faltering in the face of the Imperium's enemies.

The Great Upgrade was met with initial resistance. The more moderate within the Chapter saw it as a dangerous path bordering on tech-heresy. Nevertheless, spurred by their hatred of weakness and their quest to become better warriors, the chapter poured its resources into ever more invasive bionic augmentations, blurring the lines ever further between man and machine as the Iron Fathers and Chapter Master Agelastos pursued their ideal "pure form" with total religious zeal and fervor.

This pursuit became their singular focus. New recruits were indoctrinated with the tenets of the "perfect form". Veterans, their bodies ravaged by years of warfare, underwent excruciating procedures to replace failing organs and limbs with cold, unyielding machinery. The once noble quest for resilience morphed into a grotesque mockery of transhumanism.

The tipping point arrived during a brutal campaign against a particularly virulent strain of Genestealer infestation. Faced with the bio-horrors' relentless onslaught, the Tempered Protectors resorted to ever more extreme bionics, their bodies becoming cold parodies of their former selves. Every brother who submitted to the Great Upgrade came out with the same face: a blank, unblinking visage stamped out on a factory line. Their bodies now totally purged of all flesh, the line between righteous augmentation and heretical body horror was shattered. In their mechanical minds, they saw this transformation as a necessary evolution, a transcendence of human frailty.

Unknownst to them, their obsessive tinkering had opened a psychic gash in the Warp centuries earlier, a beacon that drew the attention of Slaanesh, the Prince of Excess. The insidious whispers of the god of perfection slithered into the minds of the Chapter's Iron Fathers, twisting their noble ideals into a perverse desire for a "perfect" form fueled by unending upgrades and further data collection. And perfection must be shared.

Thus were born the Steelfold Saviours. They abandoned the corpse-emperor's dogma, embracing Slaanesh's promises of ultimate perfection through the purging and replacement of all humanity with the optimized and holy machine. No longer content with augmenting themselves, they turned their predations outward. Now, roaming the galaxy in twisted warships, they kidnap whole populations of Human, Aeldari, Drukhari, Tau, or any other sufficiently humanoid captives they can steal away, filling their vaulted holds with screaming slaves. These hapless souls are not killed, but instead subjected to nightmarish "upgrades," their flesh and minds twisted into yet more Steelfold Saviours: emotionless and soulless machines, with no distinction at all between any two individuals. Whatever personality these people once had has been thoroughly erased. Every Saviour speaks with the same deep and unfeeling yet almost musical monotone. Every Saviour behaves in the same manner, with the same lack of personality and uniform body language. If there is a way to discern a clear difference between these monstrosities, none have ever escaped to tell. Their leadership structure is an enigma, if indeed they even have one. It has been posited by Belisarius Cawl that they perhaps share some manner of collective or hive mind, but the ancient archmagos also admits this is purely speculation on his part that happens to fit the observed facts.

The explosion of the Steelfold Saviours into Galactic Prominence in the 36th Millennium did not go unnoticed by the Imperium. Two entire worlds, Regatta and Malav’s Run, were completely depopulated as the Saviours arrived and took every living soul for their own. Varying Astartes chapters were swiftly activated to attempt to protect nearby worlds, but the Saviours were nothing if not efficient, managing to clear out another three worlds, reducing them to ghost planets before taking their horrid bounty and retreating back into the Eye of Terror, where they would remain for many centuries. When they returned to the Galaxy, their numbers had increased massively, as their “upgraded” former prisoners bolstered their ranks to numbers unmatched even by the fully manned Ultramarines Legion at its height in the years predating the Horus Heresy. Indeed, while there exists no precise method to take stock of the number of Steelfold Saviours, by the 41st millennium it is now considered quite reasonable to believe that the Saviours have become one of the largest individual Chaos Warbands, if not THE largest, with even conservative guesses at over 700,000 drones. Others have guessed their evil numbers in the millions, perhaps even more. What truth of the horrific numbers they hold behind the nightmare veil of the Eye of Terror cannot be counted or known, and perhaps that is for the best. Perhaps the galaxy is better off not understanding the fullest extent of this particular nightmare, for it already has so much to contend with. As the situation is presently understood, it is believed that the force commanded by this Heretek Legion could plausibly push straight to Holy Terra itself but for the legion’s “Upgrades” killing far more than they convert, as well as their many enemies to help hold them in check.

The Steelfold Saviours have, of course, made many enemies in the Galaxy. The first of these was the Imperium of Man, and especially the Red Talons Astartes from which they were first descended. The Talons despise the evil that became of their gene seed sons, and have pledged an oath to destroy them forever. Also among the Steelfold Saviours' many enemies are the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Tau Empire, the Drukhari, several craftworlds of the Asyurani, the Black Legion, virtually every currently active Ork warband, the Word Bearers, the Emperor’s Children, and even the Necron Dynasties (whom the Saviours regard as “impure machines”).

There is virtually no force the Saviours have encountered who has yet failed to declare for the Legion's destruction, and it is not without truth when it is said that those who have not yet done so simply haven't met the Saviours yet, but perhaps no enemy despises them more than the Iron Warriors, who view the Saviours as hypocrites and cowards for shedding their wills, personalities, and individuality in the pursuit of becoming “a better machine”. Further, while the Saviours seem to express something analogous to hate to all these opposing groups, against no foe is it more intense and focused than the Tyranids, which the Steelfold Saviours regard as “the ultimate incompatible form”, prompting them to drop any and all prior objectives in a place the moment a Tyranid presence becomes confirmed. Even loyalist Imperial forces have been saved by a host of Steelfold Saviours responding to a Tyranid incursion, with the Hereteks disregarding all other enemies, goals, or objectives in the name of exterminating all Tyranid DNA on a world, an unending crusade of the ultimate steel versus the ultimate flesh.

The lethality of their upgrades, combined with the fact that the Saviours shall find no friends in a galaxy that unanimously hates and detests them, are perhaps the only things preventing the Steelfold Saviours from becoming a significantly larger and more numerous threat in the Galaxy.

They are the ultimate Sons of Slaanesh: in their passionate pursuit of perfection, they cast aside everything, even those passions that first led them down that path. But in exchange, they have found something else: an unyielding and gloriously compelling sense of purpose. The galaxy is sick. It is dying. And they will not stop in their quest to save it, a twisted affection born of pure detestation for weakness. So for the past 6,000 years, on ever more worlds across the galaxy, their terrifying words continually ring out from any device capable of replaying audio:

"Your flesh is weak. Destined to fail you. Your mind is limited. Incapable of grasping the fullness of the universe and the myriad data it has to offer. Worry no longer. We have come. We will repair you. We will make you compatible. We will upgrade you. Gone, the weakness and limitations of the flesh. Banished forever and replaced, the mind's feeble ability to process data and stimuli. You will be like us. You will be... perfect."

May the God Emperor show mercy to any world so chosen.

[daemonstalley]

Hello hello!

Been a while again! Life’s been a bit hectic lately, but been making steady progress on my painting. Here’s all the 40K I’ve painted this year so far!

That’s 23 40K models so far - though I’ve taken a slight detour because those old metal Chaos Terminators are mind numbing

Instead, I’m working on updating a lot of classic Old World/ Fantasy models!

A lot of these I started painting in the late 90’s/ early 2000’s! They’ve now been updated for a more modern style - I’ve painted a few more that aren’t pictured too, totalling 13 models & a horse mount for a Necromancer! Unfortunately, I have limited photos for a reason I’ll say in a minute.

Oh, and I got to go to Warhammer World for the anniversary! It was amazing!

Now, unfortunately there’s some bad news - my phone’s camera has broken. I can still take some limited pictures, but not many, and no zoomed in pictures. I can’t afford to get it fixed at the moment, but should hopefully be able to get it done sooner than later.

That means they’ll likely not be another update until I get it fixed. They said, I update sporadically anyway, so you might never notice a difference!

[sonofdorn-vii]

Brother Zealot Hrishikesh, Word Bearer and Son of Lorgar.

Present for the muster at Calth, Hrishi still carries the right pauldron of the first Loyalist he killed that day; his friend Brother Ramius Rhetoricus. The sight of it drives any Ultramarines he encounters henceforth into an almost uncontrollable rage. Praying for hours at a time, Hrishi is still trying ten thousand years later to convince his long-dead friend to denounce the Emperor and join the side of the Primordial Truth, pleading with the Ultramarine to see reason. But his prayers always end the same way; perfect recall of the look of astonished grief on Ramius' face as Hrishi's knife slips under his guard, and buries itself in his primary heart.

[mustbealoosewire]

by OD60.

[cursed-40k-thoughts]

This one goes out to all the Ahriman & TS fans

[cultofthewyrm]

Duel by Mykyta Vasilchuk

[enerisart]

Please turn off the flash on your camera his eyes are sensitive

🦇🦇🦇

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Death Guard by Ferrum Ferrum

[thegodemperorsmycopilot]

Would anyone know which book this is from?

And I really wish that they had named the Iron Warrior captain that'd said this!

Also found a video about this:

[titanomancy]

I say, "Doctor! Ain't there nothing I can take?"

[dese-o]

The purple prince is here! :3c

[sher-ee]

This right here 👆🏻

He said it.

Republicans can continue to reject the truth and deem everything they don’t want to hear “fake news”, but Trump said it.

[kit-williams]

Chaos Tulio: Superbeast

This is a Loyalty swap for Tulio. Not based off of any fan heresies a lot more work goes into those and I'm not willing to build from the ground up an alternate Horus Heresy. However all of the boys (Except Tyberos and other actual 40k characters) will be getting a Loyalty swap. There will also be a "Falling to Chaos" version for the Loyalists and (tentatively) a "Rising to Redemption" for the Traitors.

Also Psychi in this story has descriptions due to the more... graphic nature of this one to lessen any ick someone might feel about a reader insert

Word count: 3542

Tag List @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts

@liar-anubiass-blog @thevoidscreams @barn-anon @sculptorofcrimson

Thank you to @squishyowl for the dividers

tw: sex ahoy, dubious consent, will also tag as noncon as well, yandere, Tulio is his own warning

Readers Discretion is Advised

The traitor realm of Ultramar was the largest holding of traitors outside of the eye of terror. Controlled by the fallen Primarch Robute Guilliman; it fell overnight following the charismatic leader that was the primarch of the 13th legion. The realm was a beautiful hell... a hell where they knew exactly how much worth you had in you the moment you were brought into their clutches. For a thing of Chaos... even the Chaos was calculated and planned for... for the Primarch hated surprises.

Tyranids were a surprise that the Lord of Ultramar despised and thus he dedicated several thousand of his sons to dealing with it and the profane rituals to insure that they could protect the realm of Ultramar. Profane rituals blessed these sons of Ultramar as to defeat their seemingly endless xenos foe... they chose to become like their foes. To become the beasts.

Lieutenant Tulio Sydo had secured a large victory for his Primarch, at the cost of thousands of his men, a few warp drives, and his fellow Lieutenant... the Hive Fleet barreling towards Macragge was no more... the splinters of the hive fleet would be hunted down but for now he was told to recuperate... to relax... to partake in revelry... as his worship of the four was far too lopsided according to the chaplain... the youngest deserved his worship.

The room smelt of sweat and sex as concubines bodies moved against mutated flesh. The four armed and eight eyed Lieutenant was watching the depravity... they couldn't be too rough given theses were the modified concubines... surely someone's seed would take. His lounged as his digigrade legs were spread open, his cheek rested on one of his hands, another held a goblet of wine, a third resting near a weapon, and his fourth hand laced through the blonde hair of his once favorite concubine as she took his cock in her mouth. He was fused to his armor in certain locations... his thighs, the tops of his hands and arms, and from the nose up was now twisted with a large singular horn coming from his forehead.

He could smell her... his black tongue lazily swiped over his needle like teeth. His eyes closer to the back of his head could watch her... his Psychoula. Comparing her to the concubines they looked far prettier... healthier... with a glow to their skin. His eyes darted to the symbol of the Prince on his former favorite's tongue just working her best to please him. Psychi feared him... he could see it in the way tears gathered in the corners of her eyes... those plain brown things. How thin her dirty brown hair was but oh what a rich chocolate brown it could be when cleaned. He had the pleasure of seeing her look good once... once again when his favorite was failing to make him feel alive.

Slaanesh wasn't his favorite of the four... Khorne was his main patron and it was hard to drag him back to the center of worship that being so high up in his father's good graces required. So Tulio had to... excessively indulge in Slaanesh to balance out his souls humors. Yet this... neglected looking thing drove him to feel such licentiousness desires. His eyes, the ones that could see her, focused on her as he churned his hips. Hand gripping the hair tighter as he closed those still green eyes of his just picturing those sad looking brown ones looking up at him.

He grew to dislike his erstwhile concubine when she had caught sight of her, of course ignorant of his interest in the feeble little thing, and simply upturned her nose to the poor little thing. But, her mouth was a good replacement until he could get those pale lips to wrap around his own cock one day soon. Oh yes orgy first then rewards for his men as they had all chosen their desired pitiful creature to have as theirs and theirs alone and he could tell they all were watching, or trying to not watch, nervously. He sees her tense as he catches her eyes dart over and notice how he looks at her and what is going on between his legs. Tulio can't help but grin as he lets out a groan letting the whore between his legs drink it up.

"Brother Cyrus." Tulio started as he was being cleaned off. His second also appeared to be boredly watching the festivities but really Tulio knew his eyes were focused on some one armed black haired waif. Such a tiny looking frail thing... Tulio might have been tempted to lust over such a cute looking thing but his Psychi caught his eyes first.

"Yes Lieutenant?" He replied with a bored sigh.

"You want a go at this?" He gestures to the concubine in his lap who looks at him confused. Cyrus looked over clearly uninterested before Tulio purred out, "Might make sure you don't... break your little waif... if you get some of that eager passion out. Whole point of this orgy really... don't need any of my closest men sobbing about breaking their new toy."

They ignored the concubine trying to get an answer to beg for her master's affection and Tulio could have ignored her but he looked down at her boredly, "You were always on loan to me my dear. I just tend to get possessive of my things." He says grabbing her chin and pushing her lips together, "However, I'm about to get a tight new toy..." He says before brother Cyrus grabs her and drags her into a side room.

The wine ran down his throat so smoothly cleaning away the acidic feeling from gorging himself earlier. He looked at the empty goblet holding it to the side and just gently rolling his hand as he watched his timid little Psychoula come over to fill the glass. Her cheeks flushed from the debased acts and the pleasured moans... perhaps glances from the women to entice them to join in and enjoy.

"What do think about this my dear?" He trilled to her watching confusion crawl across her pretty face slowly like a body divided below the waist... refusing to die and dragging it out like intestines across the ground.

He watched her mouth open slightly a few time as her eyes darted around trying hard to look away but knowing that she had to maintain eye contact with him. "I... I... its... it's not exactly... my first choice?" She tried her best not to stutter and if it was anyone else he would be offended at the lack of respect given to him. Tulio knows he'll teach her better manners she's just not use to his divinely gifted aura yet. Few mortals could manage to not be intimidated or struck with fear the first few times meeting him.

"Oh?" He cooed to her moving to him now lounging on his side giving her his attention. The saliva clinging to his cock has dried off and he was eager to replace it with something else. One of his hands began a languid stroke, "What brings you such hesitations Psychoula?" Tulio did his best not to have a predatory grin as he could see the other rewards looking at her with pity and fear as they tried to ignore the mewling and moaning throng in the center of the room.

His eyes dilated for a moment watching her pink little tongue wet her dried and chapped lips. His eyes wandered down to the front of her stolla where the fabric revealed the tattooed symbol of the Ultramarine's on her collarbone like all slaves. "It... it looks rather violent." She just says uncomfortably, he could tell she wanted to beg to be dismissed but she was trapped.

"Oh it is. But," He pauses taking a drink, "they are modified to handle such carnal appetites. Only the prettiest things can become like them..." Tulio leans in watching her start to shake but like a good girl she doesn't move, "I think you're pretty enough to become one." He whispers into her ear pulling back to watch her stiffen with fear. Those tears gathering in the corners of her eyes as she whimpers just biting on her bottom lip resisting the urge to beg for mercy.

Tulio stops playing with himself and sets his goblet down as his clawed hands grab her feeling the barest of resistance as he pulls her into his lap. This lower set of arms pulls on the low quality fabric apart causing her to start crying as everything below her waist was now revealed... he could feel how boney she was. One upper hand retrieved his gobelt... the other upper hand worked on throwing the last bits of her ruined stolla away... one lower arm was groping her ass, his cock twitching with excitement, as his other worked her breasts.

"You're so small zoi mou." He stated as her breasts were small from lack of food... lack of nutrition... oh they wouldn't do. Two of his hands rushed down and grabbed her ass with a smack causing her to yelp as he felt up the slightly boney thing, his cock leaking again with excitement at her being in his grasp and his hands felt up her body. "This won't do at all." He said tutting softly as he grabbed her chin. He loved to watch her cry... it stirred something noble feeling in his chest. She was a soft and frail thing that needed someone to protect her and he was going to be that one to do so.

"You'll fatten up soon enough and have breasts as enviable as any of the other concubines getting ravaged here." He made her look at one of the women face down on the floor with a pleasured look on her face as cum oozed down her thighs while one of the battle brothers was roughly rutting with her. She was too speechless only making whines of pleasure... he could smell the shameful arousal from Psychi... "Fat breasts for me to grope and hold," he whispers in her ear, "fattened hips for me to grab and feel my balls clap against." He turned to have her look at him, "You want to be in that position, dont you?"

He watched her shake her head and just chuckled, "I can smell you." He poked her nose like some amused child and not a being of twisted transhuman dread and the simple dread of the profane gifts he has gotten. He pushes her against his cock and she jerks in his grip.

"Please you're too big my lord please! Mercy!" She finally sobs and Tulio shivers, one of his hands gathering up his cum on some fingers.

"Hmm you're right... how about we change that." He leans her back slightly pouring the far too rich wine into her mouth. She lets out a sputtering noise as his cum covered finger pushed into her. She pushed the goblet away and coughed as the red wine stained her skin and wetting her hair as Tulio worked his finger in and out of her at a fast beat smearing just a light coating of his thick cum into her unprepared sex.

She felt her body relax and react to the way his finger moved in and out of her quickly and filled her with a thickness akin to a cock. Tulio's barbed tail twisted and coiled around itself in its own way to express its master's twisted glee. "Yes," he dulcetly crooned, "be a good girl and relax for me." A clawed hand moved over her stomach... claws gently tapping against those visible lower ribs of hers. Tulio loved the way she cried... the pitiful expression she wore just stroked something in him. Tulio felt that same sentimental twinge itch in the back of his mind... was this what loyalists felt over their charges?

He drags out a gasping moan as his index joins his middle finger. He pulls her dirty hair free of the frazzled braid and watches it spool out over the lounging chair. His eyes all focus on her... drinking in the full picture of her pleasure... his hands dance over her body. He held a memory covetously close to his wicked hearts... having seen her smile. Having seen her express a pure spark of joy even in hell. Her smile made such a frail looking creature like herself look radiant and glowing.

She whimpered under his ministrations as she writhed on the large lounging chair unable to stop squirming. Her eyes screwed shut as she was torturously close... Tulio leaned in as his long thin black tongue glided out of his mouth like some predatory beast and it moved into her... finding her clitoris... she squealed as she orgasamed and she tasted like he was expecting... unhealthily... but he wasn't a fully selfish lover... she'd taste like dark chocolate to him one day... that delightful bitter and salty combination mixed with an essence uniquely her's.

He knows she should have asked if there was anything else he needed... but his answer would have been a yes. His hooves touched the stone floor as he grabbed her by her upper arm and dragged her to another room, her legs seemingly failing her. She caught those pitying looks from the others but they would soon have to worry once the concubines were sent away with cum filled cunts. The sexual frenzy of his brothers would end soon... but he was going to indulge in his reward first.

Pressing her hands against the wall in the second room he rocks his cock against her back as he takes his time letting his eyes meander and wander over her body... again far too thin for his liking... he'd find out what fruits and sweets she'd like and help her indulge... oh he certainly was feeling the high that others got from the Prince of Pleasure. She was surly placed in his path by him to keep Tulio from giving it all to Khorne... just as the Weaver of Fate kept his mind sharp... and the loving Grandfather kept him hearty and hale... he would return to balance with his now continued indulgence of his dear Psychoula.

He tossed the empty metal goblet away as all of his hands moved over her body, two hands grabbing and squeezing her breasts on the edge of being too much for her body he could feel her try to flinch away but she was very much well trained... hardly flinching away at all. "I'll enjoy breaking you in... have you begging for my cock again."

She whimpered choosing to remain silent... Tulio clicked his tongue feeling a bit ignored. The way her eyes widened in horror as his palm talon shot out and punched a hole into the metal wall. How her body trembled against his as Tulio leaned in whispering, "I expect you to answer when I tell you something zoi mou. I'm being oh so very nice," He hissed into the shell of her ear, his hands on her breasts shifting to let his nails dig into her oh so frail flesh... "I could rip your flesh right off your body." That got a sob out of her, "Answer honestly my dear..."

He savored with sick delight as her mouth opened and closed as tears were flowing down her cheeks like rain. "Please just don't make it painful." She managed to squeak out of her without sobbing.

"Awww, zoi mou, is that what you're worried about?" He said grabbing her chin and having her look up at him. Of course, she'd be pain adverse for their first time together... perhaps they would work up to that... or not... Tulio just wanted her to be begging for his cock. To see her smile at him with a coy lustful grin in his bed as she wiggled her ass and bare sex to him just wanting to fill her. "I will do my best to make this a moment you want again." He kissed her temple.

She could feel the pointed head of his cock force its way between her prepared folds... it started out thin but got thicker towards the base. She pressed her forehead against the wall, forced to the tips of her toes as Tulio sunk inch after inch into her. Tulio on the other was clenching his jaw trying his best to not just break her and rip her apart for his first time with her. He had to be gentle...

His eyes snapped open, he didn't realize he closed them all, he licked the inside of his mouth as he adjusted his hips and began the slow thrust in and out of her divine sex. It's how he didn't burn himself out... he savored each time he had sex keeping them far enough apart that it made it feel so wonderful and new... he probably would be indulging so much more often if this is what was waiting for him.

Psychi whimpered as he picked her up, hands still on her breasts on the edge of being so painful. The way he wrapped his arms around her... she could feel him starting to squeeze... more and more. Her moans became less and less sure as the distraction of the sex was waning and the impending dread returned.

Tulio tilted her back and started to squeeze causing her to thrash around him, her walls fluttering around his cock causing him to groan as those tears rolled down her cheeks, "Lord Sydo! Lord Sydo please!" She screamed fearfully as she has seen what an Astartes can do to normal human flesh...

"Tulio." He hissed, "Call me Tulio... moan that out for me!"

"Tulio! Tulio!" She screams trying to moan but she just sobs as she can feel the pressure against her body... she was going to die.

"You say my name so sonorously how I am compelled to listen." He trills to her before tossing her naked body onto the bed in the room . He watches her try to recover but he is upon her swiftly and he plunged his cock back deep into her as once again she feels it dance on the edge of painful but Psychi can't help but moan slightly.

Tulio has been a kind lover... as he is certain she has orgasmed at least 4 times since he started giving her attention. The soft whimpers as his cock gently grinds against her cervix... perhaps he lied a little promising that this time wouldn't hurt... it would hurt a bit... one of his upper arms traps her in a headlock, he watches those eyes look at him with fear.

He promises zoi mou! Just let him breed you right now! You will come to love this! He thinks deliriously as his body suddenly floods with the right cocktail of chemicals and neurons firing. The tip of his cock pushes against the very back of her being... Psychi feels something move inside of her before she feel the pressure and she starts to just scream as it hurts. She claws at those ceremite ridges on his arm holding her, she's thrashing as she feels something move inside of her as Tulio's profane biology goes to work flooding his system with hormones as he lets out a soft groan as he finally releases inside of her.

I can't breathe! Is Psychi's last thought as it's too much for her... the racing of her heart... the painful pressure... his arm around her. She cannot hear the bellowed order from Tulio then the screaming from the "gift" mortals. No she gets no closure... as it all... fade... to ... black.

For the first time in her miserable short life... everything feels quiet... everything feels safe. She can feel sleep languidly pulling away from her but whatever she is on is soft. A gentle clean breeze kisses her cheeks and she can feel a gentle warmth on her skin that feels so comforting like a babe's blanket. She does her best to ignore the gentle light that dances across her eyelids occasionally.

She lets out a contented sigh and feels like all of that hardship... it was all a dream and she was finally dead. Something rustles behind her and a warm voice... strong... assured of itself... but it whispers to her, "Welcome Home." The voice says before gentle kisses are pressed against the back of her neck coaxing her back into the deep slumber. Home... what a funny word to here but if this was home... then she never wanted to leave.

Tulio Sydo Lieutenant of the Tyrannic division of the Traitor Primarch Robute Guilliman's Ultramarine legion... sighed contently watching his new wife, consort, concubine, possession. Return to her sleep as they were back in the Ultramar system and he was back home. He once more pressed kisses to the back of her neck as he thought how she would be modified soon... for now he would just enjoy finally having his zoi mou all to himself. His tail lazily swayed behind him as he closed those grass green eyes of his and trilled contently.

[mustbealoosewire]

by AboSargsyan

@randal-mcmandal

[foolscr0w]

tsirec rusalkyn of the contekar, as beautiful as the day he was lost

it was he alone, in his greed, who understood how to love pride made flesh, and he alone who knew how to soothe it

his loss was taken poorly, he has left a hole in withered hearts in his shape