Descending from the heretical designed ship, the Prodigal Son, along with the Inquisitor Valg was a mass of machinery. Each ponderous step was slow and methodical; but of such a stride that it easily matched pace with the man to its fore. With every step gears spun up, latched and released with a whirl of motion. Gas vented and billowed out the form of a rust coloured robe, the distinctive embroidered crenellations of a cog revealed what Order the construct belonged to; but it was the combination mechanical-biological skull that declared the ranke of Tech-Priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Known to Inquisitor Valg as Enginseer Masoch.
Though he walked he made no motion to the escort, no word to his comrade, not a single vocalisation. Impassive …show more content…
An Adepta Sororitas, Anastasia, cast in the mould of an Amazon Warrior of ancient Terra, long before the Dark Age and the Techno-Barbarians; a physically fit specimen of peculiar mutation. Not one of the Hospitaller Order members, she, for that was the gender designated, was of the Orders Militant. The enforcer of the Holy God Emperor's Will by writ of the Ecclesiarchy's numerous and often contradictory …show more content…
I know how you're feeling. My auspex tells me all that you feel. Doesn't it just give you a tinge?"
Fingers slid down a face, words were forced down a throat.
"You can feel it. I know you can, I already told you."
Still lower the fingers moved, dragging plastic nails across living flesh. Caressing each in turn, holding its weight, kneading it, provoking intense sensation.
"What's happening to you? Don't fear, this is the fun part. The not so fun part is when mean Valg comes through those door. Then it's an interrogation."
With a lunge the hand shot for Anastasia's member, the mutation that had been the cause of all her troubles to date, and it came alive beneath Masoch's fingers. It was limp at first; but blood flooded the tissues and it stiffened, rising to an impressive salute.
"Oh, I knew you'd agree with me."
Masoch brushed her chest against her captive's, her nipples hardened by the rough edges of the clamps. Up and down, left to right tell the heat of the action produced beads of sweat and sex. With her torso grinding against the Amazon's white thigh her hand worked the shaft of the cock. Small tendrils danced like tinny mechanical tongues from the augmetic palm. At first it was slow; but it quickly built
Though he walked he made no motion to the escort, no word to his comrade, not a single vocalisation. Impassive …show more content…
An Adepta Sororitas, Anastasia, cast in the mould of an Amazon Warrior of ancient Terra, long before the Dark Age and the Techno-Barbarians; a physically fit specimen of peculiar mutation. Not one of the Hospitaller Order members, she, for that was the gender designated, was of the Orders Militant. The enforcer of the Holy God Emperor's Will by writ of the Ecclesiarchy's numerous and often contradictory …show more content…
I know how you're feeling. My auspex tells me all that you feel. Doesn't it just give you a tinge?"
Fingers slid down a face, words were forced down a throat.
"You can feel it. I know you can, I already told you."
Still lower the fingers moved, dragging plastic nails across living flesh. Caressing each in turn, holding its weight, kneading it, provoking intense sensation.
"What's happening to you? Don't fear, this is the fun part. The not so fun part is when mean Valg comes through those door. Then it's an interrogation."
With a lunge the hand shot for Anastasia's member, the mutation that had been the cause of all her troubles to date, and it came alive beneath Masoch's fingers. It was limp at first; but blood flooded the tissues and it stiffened, rising to an impressive salute.
"Oh, I knew you'd agree with me."
Masoch brushed her chest against her captive's, her nipples hardened by the rough edges of the clamps. Up and down, left to right tell the heat of the action produced beads of sweat and sex. With her torso grinding against the Amazon's white thigh her hand worked the shaft of the cock. Small tendrils danced like tinny mechanical tongues from the augmetic palm. At first it was slow; but it quickly built