Dehsod watched as his subjects unloaded the booty from the crippled transport. Slaves bearing boxes and containers of various shapes and sizes made an almost constant stream of bodies through the linked airlocks. He barely noticed them, they were of no more importance than the machinery several of them used to transport those items to heavy for human muscles.

Of more interest were the Space Marines scattered throughout the mass of humanity like diamonds in a coal mine. The Commander of the Black Guard was very proud of his men. They had performed quite admirably on this first combat he had participated in since his Becoming.

It had begun as a simple piracy maneuver. Dehsod’s flagship, The Event Horizon, had chanced upon a colonist transport ship in one of the seldom-used shipping lanes near the Eye of Terror.

Lightly armed and surely full of valuable cargo and passengers, the ship had seemed like nothing more than a bloated sheep waiting to feed a hungry wolf. The obvious course of action in such a situation was to hit the target as hard and fast as possible, loot it, and disappear back into the Eye as fast as possible.

Dehsod, however, had millennia of experience in the practice of piracy, and had become a very canny wolf. Over the protests of his son and second-in-command, Trent, he had launched only enough fighters to destroy the transports few gun turrets and cripple its engines.

His caution proved justified several minutes later as a warship appeared on the edge of the Event’s sensors. Dehsod remembered his pleasure when one of the technicians had informed him that the newcomer belonged to the Burning Sword chapter of Space Marines. He had been half-afraid that he would only have to face a ship full of Imperial Guardsmen, or only the colonists themselves. At least now he would be in combat against foes worthy of his attention.

It was even more satisfying that it was the Burning Swords. Their chapter of Marines had been founded at the same time as his own. They, however, had chosen to remain the lapdogs of the crippled Emperor rather than turning to the glories of Chaos. He hated all of the Imperial Marine chapters, but none so much as those of his Founding. It felt right that destroying some of them would be the first test of his combat skills after becoming a Daemon Prince.

Dehsod had immediately recalled the fighters that had been harassing the colonists. A few of the ship’s gun batteries were still functional and one of its engines was still working, but it was in no shape to escape in the time it would take the Chaos Marines to crush their foes.

The commander of the Burning Swords ship quickly overcame whatever surprise he felt over Dehsod’s evasion of his trap, and he was ready by the time the two ships closed to combat distance.

The ships were evenly matched, and the enemy commander was as good a warship captain as Dehsod was. Had Dehsod allowed the combat to remain a space battle, the outcome would have been as much a result of luck as prowess. The Daemon Prince did something completely unexpected, however. He boarded the enemy ship.

There was nothing so fearsome as boarding an enemy ship. Though both ships were the same model and had begun service with the same layout, they were radically different now. Each had seen more than 2,000 years of use and had been adapted and repaired thousands of times, making their insides radically different. The Burning Swords would have advantage of fighting in familiar territory, while the Black Guard would have only a vague idea of the layout of the ship. It would be something like chasing a snake into it’s lair.

Dehsod depended on two things for his strategy, however. First, he knew that the Black Guard’s abilities in the close combat necessitated by the tight quarters of a starship were matched only by those of the followers of the blood god, Khorne. No Imperial Marines could even come close. Second, followers of Slaanesh fear nothing. The threat of death was nothing but another experience to them. Plus the ship would be much more valuable to him if he captured it rather than being forced to destroy it.

The Commander of the Black Guard had therefore been one of the first marines to board the enemy ship, therefore. He quickly discovered the awesome combat abilities of his new form. His body no longer existed entirely on the physical plane of existence being made up as much of warp energy as flesh. Many of the attacks that hit him passed completely through him without leaving a mark. Those that did actually inflict damage seldom did more than scratch him and the wounds he did suffer healed in a remarkably short time.

His new limbs proved to be exceptionally efficient killing tools. The large chitinous claw on the end of the arm that grew out of his ribcage on the right side cut through durasteel armor as easily as flesh. The large bio-mechanical hammer on the other side cracked that same armor as easily as the bone underneath. The long scorpion-like tail that grew out of the base of his spine was full of a poison that ate human flesh without affecting inorganic matter, leaving his foes nothing more than empty shells of armor. He also reveled in the power of the two weapons Slaanesh had blessed him with. The huge axe cut through armor, flesh and bone without damaging them, but left their victims soulless, lifeless husks. The strange, pitchfork-like spear caused exquisite agony in those it touched, killing its victims from overwhelming shock.

Dehsod wallowed in the orgy of blood and slaughter, exalting in the abilities of this new form. He slaughtered the final squad of enemy Terminators on the ship single handedly. The veterans in their power armor with their heavy weapons proved to be only slightly more of a challenge than their ordinary brethren.

The blood fury did not die with his enemies, however. The Commander returned to his own ship as quickly as possible, and took half of his force after the colonist transport again. After the challenge of the Burning Swords, destroying the small group of Imperial Guards on the ship proved to be anti-climatic, and Dehsod had killed several of the colonists before growing bored.

His Marines had immediately started the looting and debauchery that always followed a successful raid. Dehsod did not join in. The Commander of the Black Guard had not engaged in carnal acts with a woman since the completion of his transformation. It was the longest period of abstinence he had experienced since he was 13. He had never denied himself any pleasure, even then, and since dedicating himself to the God of Sensuality, that trend had only increased. It seemed wrong to waste the first use of his new-found abilities on an ordinary woman. He briefly wondered how hard it would be to track down and capture Jain-Zar. Defiling and breaking the Exarch of the Howling Banshees would undoubtedly prove interesting.

He decided to keep that possibility in mind, but he continued to look for a suitable woman in the meantime. That was why he remained at the airlock, watching as his warriors drug captives kicking and screaming onto The Event Horizon.

If the prisoners had known what was in store for them they would have been paralyzed with fear. The lucky ones would immediately be taken down into the bowels of the ship and killed. Then they would be rendered down to their component parts and used to make exotic drugs and as ingredients in rare delicacies. Most of the rest would be made into slaves and would live a short lifetime laboring away beneath the notice of their Chaos Marine masters. The remaining few would suffer the worst fate. They would become toys for the Black Guard. They would be tortured and defiled in ways that they could not even imagine.

He continued to watch for several minutes, but no promising prospect turned up. There were quite a few beautiful women amongst the colonists, but none with the transcendent quality that Dehsod was looking for.

A little despondent, he returned to his private quarters, to fight his oldest, most dangerous foe, boredom. He found that a banquet had been laid out for him by his servants. The flesh of a hundred beasts from a dozen planets, and exotic fruits from the farthest reaches of the galaxy stretched out before him. Each dish was served on the nude, bound body of a living slave, and a great deal of care was made to make them an intrinsic part of the presentation.

Dehsod ignored them. Several were presented in ways that he had not seen before, which would normally pique his interest, but he was in no mood for such trivialities today. He decided to eat though, more out of boredom than anything else. The cooks had long ago learned to be very creative with their culinary exploits. It had happened about the same time he had killed and eaten some of their peers for serving him boring dishes. Now, his meals ran the gamut of taste sensations, often combined in what most would think were bizarre ways. Frozen sweet treats coated in the hottest peppers to be found in the universe, and wild game covered in so much salt the meat could not be seen were just two of the gourmet delights presented for the Lord of Ydin. Dehsod’s favorite dish, however, was a gooey concoction that had almost no taste, but left a riot of subtle aftertastes in his mouth. He decided to commend and reward the chefs at the first opportunity. After all, good behavior demand reinforcement as much as bad behavior did punishment.

The Daemon Prince ate for a full hour, sometimes shoveling pounds of food into his gullet at a time, sometimes nibbling just enough to get a hint of the flavor. After gorging himself in this manner he collapsed onto one of the ornate cushions that had been custom made for his new physiology. A slight pain in his bloated belly provided a fascinating counterpoint to the contentment he felt over the wonderful meal he had just consumed.

He had just settled down and begun to doze when Trent burst into his chambers followed closely by Sean. Dehsod looked at his two children with a certain swell of pride. Trent had turned out to be one of his most capable, savage, and effective squad commanders. The Black Guard could lay the responsibility for several victories squarely at the feet of his Harvesters. He was also fairly sure that many of the more intricate and dangerous attempts on his life of the last 20 years or so could have been traced back to his son if he had really tried. He knew that his son’s rivals in the chapter never survived long and the mere fact that he was not dead himself spoke eloquently of his abilities. Dehsod did his best to make sure that the Black Guard was a murderous machiavellian maze, and he found that his son navigated it as easily as most people did the halls of their own homes.

If Trent had any weakness, it was his half-sister. He was very protective of the green-haired beauty, though, from what Dehsod could tell, his concern was completely unnecessary. Sean was the only female Space Marine in his chapter, and, as far as he knew, in the universe. The Imperials certainly wouldn’t have allowed a member of the fairer sex to undergo the processes necessary to create a marine, and he was fairly sure that none of the other Chaos chapters would have either. Dehsod himself would not have allowed it, had she not earned the right.

When his daughters reached the age of 16 he normally gave them as presents to his favored followers. Sean had demanded to be allowed to participate in the gladiatorial combat amongst Dehsod’s of age sons, however. The winner would be made into a Marine, the losers died during the contest. Sean had been the last one standing, at the end of the bloody spectacle. She had slain 7 of the 20 other contestants herself, the last one barehanded, though the boy had been armed with a chainsword. Honor had demanded that he allow her to undergo the process that would transform her into a Marine, but he had done it as much out of pride as a sense of duty.

A few of her male counterparts had tried to force their affections on her rather forcefully. She had quickly ended that trend with a few vigorous and rather violent refusals. Trent had taken her into his squad almost immediately, and the two had formed the backbone of the Harvesters. The other members of the squad had a nasty habit of dying, but the two of them had stood together through some of the most dangerous and violent combat the Black Guard had ever seen.

They both made Dehsod proud. They also gave him a headache. Both of them were Noise Marines. They had given themselves so fully to Slaanesh that they had had all of their sensory inputs routed straight to their pleasure centers. The more intense the sensory input, the more pleasure they felt. Dehsod had known Noise Marines to get orgasmic levels of pleasure from a properly played symphony or the screams of a dying person. A side effect of the process made them “leak” psychically. For those tuned into those frequencies, it was like the two of them were constantly singing to themselves at a barely audible level. It was quite distracting and eventually painful for anyone with psychic abilities. The use of psychic powers in the vicinity of Noise Marines transformed the threat from merely annoying to dangerous. A psychic had to open himself up to those around him to utilize his powers and when he did, the psychic cacophony the Noise Marines constantly emitted could easily overwhelm anyone using such a power. At best the person would be to distracted to properly use his ability, at worst his mind could be totally destroyed by the backlash.

Dehsod let both his pride and the psychic pain wash over him as Trent strode haughtily across the room, Sean shadowing him like an impassive wraith.

“I demand recompense, father,” Trent said.

“Recompense for what, Trent?” Dehsod asked wearily. He questioned again the wisdom of giving the boy everything he had wanted as a child. He had come to expect such treatment and had a nasty habit of throwing a fit if he didn’t get everything he wanted.

“Recompense for being left behind on the Burning Swords ship while you took a group off to plunder the colony ship,” Trent replied angrily.

“Why would I give you anything for staying behind? You didn’t partake in any of the combat that took place on the colonist ship, so why do you think you deserve any of the plunder from it?”

“Because I would have fought if I would have had the chance.”

“Would have, could have, should have,” Dehsod said philosophically, “The point, son is that you didn’t, so you get nothing from the transport.”

“But the transport has better loot! It’s not FAIR!” The final word came out as a scream of petulant anger. It was caught and amplified by the miniaturized version of a Doom Siren Trent had had embedded in his throat when he had first become a Noise Marine. The full sized version was easily capable of cracking open the thick durasteel hulls of tanks. The smaller one had no problem with the living table Trent directed his anger toward. The man didn’t even have a chance to scream before the sonic vibrations shattered his bones and set up harmonic vibrations that caused him to explode from the inside out. In the mess left over, it was impossible to tell what had been a person and what had been food. Dehsod wondered briefly what it would taste like. One of the other slaves screamed. She must have been new.

“Are you finished?” he calmly asked Trent. His son sulked silently so Dehsod took that as and affirmative answer.

“You have an entire warship to plunder. There should be plenty of ammo, weapons, and armor for you to trade for whatever you want from the other ship,” he explained reasonably.

“I shouldn’t have to trade for it! I should be able to claim it as my own!”

“Shut up! Trade for it, steal it, kill for it, I don’t care. You’ve been on enough of these raids to know how these things work. It’s first come first serve. If someone else has something you want, figure out a way of getting it from them.”

Trent’s eyes narrowed dangerously for several seconds. Then he shrugged and smiled, “As you say, milord. I’m sure things will work out in the end. Everyone will get what they deserve.”

The statement had a hint of threat in it, but Dehsod chose to ignore it for the moment. Perhaps it would lead to some entertainment later.

“Well, now that that is settled, why don’t the two of you enjoy some of this wonderful food?” he offered.

“Thank you father, I believe we will,” Trent responded politely.

Dehsod watched as the two of them moved over to the buffet and began to pick through it delicately. He knew that he would have more trouble out of Trent. He smiled. He couldn’t wait.

His children were still eating when a Marine pushed through the gem-encrusted doors into his room. Dehsod paid him little mind, he was nothing more than one of the minor soldiers in his Chapter, and he had shown little promise of climbing the ranks. Of far more interest to the Lord of Ydin was the woman he led on a golden leash.

The first thing he noticed about her was that she was surprisingly tall. As a general rule, Space Marines dwarfed any normal humans they came into contact with. The smallest of them were seldom less than 6 ½ feet tall, and many of them pushed 8 feet in height. But this woman was less than a foot shorter than her captor. Dehsod imagined that she was at least 6’ tall. Her height was enhanced by the ornately styled hair piled on her head, and the amazingly high, thin heels on her shoes. Dehsod was slightly amazed that she had managed to keep her hair styled and her shoes unbroken in the middle of the combat that had just occurred.

The face under that hair was one of the most exquisite he had every seen. It had an air of pure clean wholesomeness. Every feature was of the finest shape and most perfect proportion. She had a mischievous curve to her mouth and a sensual, knowing look in her eyes that said the mind behind those features was anything but pure, clean, or wholesome.

She was wearing a plain, tan dress that covered her from chin to floor. Most of the women he had seen taken from the transport had been wearing similar garments. He assumed that the colonists had been one of the numerous sects of religious fanatics who believed that woman’s flesh was sinful and that merely looking at it would cause impure thoughts. Dehsod knew the truth. All flesh contained sin, but sin was the only thing that made existence worthwhile.

This woman had clearly outsmarted her fellow travelers. The dress undoubtedly met the rather strict requirements of what parts of her body could be exposed and those that could not. It was also cut in such a manner and made of a material that hugged every curve and line of her body as closely as a desperate lover. It left almost nothing to the imagination, but allowed the imagination to run rampant. The fabric was only a couple of shades different from the vibrant golden shade of the woman’s skin, and gave the first impression that she was entirely nude. He wondered how she had managed to get away with wearing such an outfit on a ship full of men who believed her body was sinful.

He wondered a dozen things about this exquisite creature, but perhaps the most prominent question in his mind was: why isn’t she afraid? Her hands were bound behind her back and she was being led on a leash. She was almost as helpless as possible, and under the power of a group of men who had proven that they had no respect for any life or dignity less than an hour past. However, she seemed completely unafraid. The only emotion he could read on her face was a certain expectant interest.

“Milord,” the Marine was speaking. Dehsod fought down a bit of irritation that the man was daring to interrupt his contemplation of this exquisite creature.

“I have brought this woman as a gift for you,” the Marine continued.
“Excellent, thank you, you may go.”

He looked as though he were about to say something else, and even went so far as opening his mouth. A look from Dehsod quickly changed his mind and his mouth snapped shut with an audible click.

“As Milord wishes,” the man said and bowed his way out of the chamber.

Dehsod walked over to the woman. He had not realized he had even risen until he was halfway across the room. Hope began to grow in his breast. Perhaps his wait was over. Perhaps he had found someone worthy to test his abilities on.

He stared down at his new toy, contemplating her beauty, and the things he would soon do to her. For her part, the woman calmly returned his gaze, with not hint of fear in her eyes. She became more intriguing with every passing moment.

“Father,” a voice interrupted his meditations and he turned irritably to the source.

Trent was standing just behind him. Dehsod had forgotten that the man was even in the room.

“What?” Dehsod made no effort to keep his annoyance out of his voice. His favorite son flinched at the tone, but paused only a moment before continuing.

“I will give up my claim on any of the treasure from the transport in return for her.”

Dehsod was momentarily too shocked to say anything. He was suddenly reminded of why he liked his progeny. Trent’s audacity was so great that it was at times entertaining.

He couldn’t help but smile as he replied, “You already gave up your claim on the transport, Trent.”

“Fine, then I’ll buy her from you.”

“No.”

“I want her, Father.”

“NO!”

It was Trent’s turn to be stunned. The vehemence of Dehsod’s denial had left Trent momentarily taken aback. The shock did not last long however, and Trent’s eyes narrowed dangerously and a low growl rumbled in his throat.

Dehsod had no intention of letting his son turn the full power of his prosthetic weapon on him. He shot out his arm and clamped down on Trent’s neck with his claw. He squeezed just enough to draw a trickle of blood from either sided of his captive’s neck. Trent was a single muscle twitch from decapitation and he knew it. The Doom Siren suddenly fell silent, and the angry glint in his eyes changed to a wary cunning.

Dehsod’s tail darted out and the tip pressed up against Sean’s stomach, stopping her in her tracks. She lowered the butcher knife she had been rushing at him with. The anticipation caused his tail to reflexively excrete a single drop of the virulent toxin it contained. The acrid smell of burning flesh filled the air as it trickled down her stomach and ate away at her flesh. She didn’t flinch or jerk away. The only outward sign that she was in any pain at all was a tenseness in her body and a clouding over of her eyes. Dehsod noticed that it wasn’t only pain written on her face. The way she caught her bottom lip between her teeth told him that she was enjoying the sensation too.

“You’re loyalty to your brother is admirable, Princess,” Dehsod told her, “but he’s not worth it.

“Now,” he continued for both of them, “I don’t think there is anything else for us to discuss so why don’t the two of you leave me while I play with my new toy?”

Trent smiled and nodded as best he could with his neck in the vice-like grasp of Dehsod’s claw. The Lord of Ydin released his son and watched as he gingerly rubbed at the two raw and bleeding marks on his neck.

“Of course, father,” Trent said with all the considerable charm he possessed, “It is clear we have overstayed our welcome. We will take our leave of you now.”

Dehsod had to smile at that. The way in which Trent made his departure seem to be of his own choosing rather than an order imposed on him by someone with more power was amusing.

Trent helped his sister out of the room. Sean’s footsteps were more than a little unsteady. Dehsod didn’t know whether it was from pleasure, pain, or both. He wondered how long she would leave the acid before trying to wash it off. He wondered if she could wash it off. He wondered how much of her that small amount could eat away if it was left alone. There were so many things he did not know about his new form. The thought of all the years of discovery he had before him sent a small thrill through his body.

He suddenly remembered the reason why he had sent his children away. He returned his attention to where they had left the woman standing. She wasn’t there. For a moment, he hoped that she had tried to escape or hide. The few minutes it would take him to root her out would be highly amusing. That hope was soon dashed, however. She was standing in plain sight near one of the human tables. Apparently she had wanted to get some food while her captors argued. It was a bad habit for a toy to have. Dehsod decided that the first thing he would teach her once he had her spirit had been broken was not to move unless told to.

Her back was to him and he wasn’t sure she knew he was watching her. Dehsod waited to see how she would try to eat with her hands bound securely behind her back. The inconvenience didn’t seem to bother the woman at all, however. She slowly bent over, giving Dehsod a perfect view of her exquisitely shaped ass hidden only by the thin, clinging fabric of her dress.

She turned just enough so that he could see her face as it hovered over the other woman’s breast. The surface of the slave girl’s body had been made into one giant desert. Pastry, fruit, and sweet creams and sauces covered her from crotch to neck. Her breasts had been covered in a thick, sticky sauce with dozens of cherries stuck in it, leaving only the large dark nipples bare.

The prisoner stared at him as her mouth drew closer to the cuilinary delight presented to her. Long, golden flecked eyelashes shadowed her smoky eyes. They couldn’t hide the invitation that floated in those two glittering orbs.

With almost excruciating slowness, she reached out her tongue. It paused there for several moments, as if she weren’t sure whether to take one of the small fruits or the nipple into her mouth. The cherry finally won out and it disappeared between lips that almost matched it in color.

She began to straighten, but stopped, a mischievous smile danced across her succulent lips. She bent back over and her tongue darted out and lightly brushed across the bound woman’s nipple. Dehsod could see it harden and a shudder rippled through the woman’s body, disrupting several pieces of fruit and candies.

The grin on her face had become one of satisfaction.

“Delicious,” she said, and he wasn’t sure if she meant the cherry or the woman. Nor did he really care. It was the first time he had heard her voice and he was enchanted by it. It was crystal clear and melodically sweet, but had a husky, earthy undertone. Somehow it made Dehsod think of the purest, sweetest chocolate tainted with a trace of blood.

He felt a sudden urge to be nearer to her, an urge he gladly obeyed. He had spent more than a millennium following his instincts and they had never failed him yet.

The Daemon Prince stalked across the room, stopping only when he was looming over the woman. Strangely, she seemed entirely unafraid, the smile never left her face, and even seemed to become inviting. She stared up at him with eyes filled not with terror, but a confident challenge.

Dehsod was increasingly intrigued. He was more than twice the woman’s height, and had become a walking, living killing machine. His legs had become animal like and amazingly muscled, allowing him to bound across the battlefield or rundown any of his victims foolish enough to try to escape his wrath. His tail and two extra arms were exquisite tools bent wholly on destruction. A pair of bat-like wings sprouted from his shoulder blades, increasing his mobility. His teeth had been replaced with dozens of razor sharp fangs, and a pair of horns sprouted from his forehead. A red glow caused by the warp energy coursing through his body emanated from his eyes. Slaanesh’s blessing had made him a fearsome sight, but this woman was entirely unafraid.

He was suddenly very conscious of how close that beautiful mouth was to the heat growing in his loins. He imagined those succulent red lips wrapping around his cock and her agile tongue caressing it. The thoughts fully awakened his slumbering member, and his erection bulged the loincloth that was his only covering.

The woman’s eyes flickered down to his groin before returning to his face. She cocked a single eyebrow and said, “So are you just going to stand there looking imposing, or what?”

Dehsod, suddenly felt ridiculous. He loomed over this frail creature in a form designed to kill when killing was the furthest thing from his mind.

He willed himself into his natural shape. There was an all-too-brief moment of exquisite agony as his bone and muscle structures reconstructed themselves into his human form. The only reminder of his new true appearance was the red glow of his eyes, he was, after all still as much warp as flesh.

He wondered if his appearance appealed to her. It was the first time he had had such a thought in a hundred or more years. His intense, dark, almost predatory looks had helped him win his way into the beds of thousands of people, and any he had not been able to seduce, he had simply taken. For some reason, that seemed unacceptable with this woman. He desperately wanted her to desire him, and the thought of taking her by force almost saddened him.

“Is this more to your liking?” he asked, and cursed himself for the hint of insecurity he heard in his voice.

She gave him a taunting half smile, and he wondered how many thousands of emotions she could display with smiles alone.

“Either way is fine by me,” she said with a shrug. The movement was graceful even with the hindrance of her bindings.

The Prince of Ydin decided that he wanted to see what this magnificent was like completely unfettered.

“Turn around,” he told her.

“Why?” she asked.

Dehsod was not used to having his orders questioned and he felt a moment’s irritation. Obedience would be the second thing he taught her.

“I was going to free you from your bonds,” he explained, “but now I think I will leave you like you are.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I was actually enjoying them,” she replied. “You’re probably right, though, I think they have passed their usefulness.”

Dehsod was a little shocked by her answer. Before he could respond, she straightened her arms behind her. Without pause, or any seeming pain, she continued the motion and brought both hands over her head and in front of her. The action should have dislocated both of her shoulders, but she did it with such a fluidity of movement that it seemed that her arms had been designed to move that way.

The commander of the Black Guard was ever more impressed and surprised by this woman. He looked forward to seeing what she would do next. He did not have long to wait. She held her hands out to him. He could see that her thumbs were bound together with a piece of high-tensile wire. The wire had been wrapped around the two digits several times, before being twisted closed. It was the most efficient way that her hands could be secured. Though only her thumbs were rendered immobile, with her arms behind her back there should have been no way she could get free.

The woman slowly stuck her thumbs and the wire inside her mouth. Her eyes got a far away look of concentration. After several seconds she pulled her thumbs back out, and made a little flourish with her now unbound hands.

Dehsod actually laughed in delight. This woman was proving to be more delicious with every moment. She held up a single finger, silently asking him to wait. She concentrated again, and this time he saw her mouth working.

A few more seconds passed, and the end of the wire appeared between her lips. She reached up and slowly drew it out. It was completely straight.

“Whew! I haven’t had to do that in a while,” she exclaimed. “Glad to see I’m still in practice.” “Me, too,” he replied.

She wandered once more over to the living tables and began picking through the delicacies there.

Dehsod followed her, becoming more amused by the moment.

“Aren’t you the slightest bit afraid?” he asked her.

“Afraid of what?” she replied without the slightest trace of apprehension.

“Me. My marines. The terrible things I want to do to you.”

“No, not really,” she calmly answered.

Her serenity was beginning to confuse him. He expected screams, bargaining, desperate pleas for mercy, even quiet stoicism, but not this calm self-confidence.

“Why not?”

She turned back toward him, a piece of almost raw meat halfway to her lips.

She tapped the mark of Slaanesh that Dehsod had branded into his right shoulder.

“Do you think you marines are the only ones who follow the Prince of Pleasure?”

Suddenly, it all made sense to him. She was a fellow follower of Slaanesh. She was not afraid because she looked forward to anything he might do to her simply as a new experience. Like him, she viewed even the most painful of experiences with pleasure. Dehsod smiled. Yes, she would serve his purposes quite nicely, and willingly, which he found surprisingly pleasant.

“What is your name, Daughter?” he felt the title was appropriate since he was one of Slaanesh’s chosen and she was one of his acolytes..

“Why, Dehsod,” she said through a mocking smile, “I’m hurt. I would have hoped my reputation had proceeded me. My name is Serpentine Tarantella.”

Dehsod’s knees went weak. Her reputation had preceded her. Serpentine Tarantella was the Siren of Delphus IV. She had led a small cult of Slaanesh to dominate and eventually conquer the small outer rim world. She had seduced hundreds, if not thousands of loyal imperial officials in her climb to the top. She and her cult had then seduced and turned both the Imperial Guard and Space Marine forces that had come to retake the planet to the path of Chaos. The Imperials had finally had to purge the planet from orbit, killing every living thing on the surface. But Serpentine had somehow escaped with a few of her followers.

Imperial forces dogged her every step, trying to stamp out her heresy and end her life. She was finally forced into hiding in the Eye of Terror, where she used her skills to establish a safe haven for herself. Rumor said that she had undergone a similar transformation to the one Dehsod had recently experienced, becoming a creature of the Warp, a Daemon Princess. There were also stories of Serpentine venturing out of the Eye to find entertainment for herself, something that Dehsod certainly understood.

Tarantella’s erotic abilities were the stuff of dreams and legends. Suddenly, the Prince of Ydin felt as though he had become the prey rather than predator. The sudden sense of helplessness and nervousness left him feeling giddy, and more aroused than he had been in years.

Serpentine was still looking up at him with that knowing smile on her face and amusement dancing in her eyes. He had no idea how long he had been standing there like a slack-jawed fool. “It is a pleasure to be in your presence…Sister,” it was the only title he could think of that seemed remotely adequate for the woman.

“Oh, Dehsod, you don’t even know what pleasure is…yet,” she purred, “Tell me, do those big, thick doors have a lock on them? I want you all to myself for a while.”

“No, they don’t, I don’t trust locks,” he replied, “I can ensure that we are not interrupted, however.”

She laughed. It was a sound like a thousand choirs singing in harmony directly in his brain.

“I know enough about you to know that you don’t really trust anything, Commander,” a hint of laughter was still in her voice, “but please make whatever preparations are necessary.”

Dehsod nodded and walked to the doors. His legs threatened to give way at any moment. He had been hoping to find someone worthy of his new abilities. Now he was more worried that he would be worthy of the person he had found.

He reached the doors and pushed through them. The two guards stationed there came to attention and faced him. They seemed momentarily surprised to see him in his current form, but quickly overcame it. Dehsod was relieved, Lyons and Bayts were on duty. They were two of his most trusted and skilled followers.

“No one is to come in until I tell you otherwise,” he ordered. “No exceptions. If anyone comes in this room before I relieve you, they will die and you will die.”

“Yes, sir!” they barked in unison.

He re-entered his private rooms and found that Serpentine was completely nude except for several gold bands that encircled each wrist and ankle. He found it strange that he had not noticed them while she was clothed. Her height was in no way diminished and Dehsod realized that she had been barefoot the entire time, the fact that her height had not been enhanced by shoes made her even more attractive.

She was turned away from him on the opposite side of the room and he could see that her entire back was covered by one huge tattoo of the mark of Slaanesh. The large circle that formed it’s base surrounded the small of her back. The shaft extending above that circle was tattooed directly over her spine, and the crescent that surmounted it wrapped around the base of her neck. The pair of scythe-like blades that projected from either side of the shaft curved around her waist and disappeared on the other side of her body. He knew from personal experience it covered some of the most painful places to get tattooed. His respect for her grew.

As he drew closer he realized that the tattoo wasn’t solid, as he had first assumed. Instead, it was a mosaic of dozens of smaller pictures that made up the larger whole. He was quite close to her before he could see what the individual images were. Each one was a depiction of people participating in various sex acts. Many of them seemed quite improbable, some of them seemed nigh impossible, and a few even he had never tried. The creativity and skill of the artist impressed him. It must have taken countless hours to create such a masterpiece.

He studied it for a more than a minute before stepping up beside her. She was looking through the transparisteel windows he had had installed in the floor, at the deck below, where the Black Guard was holding their post raid orgy. Dehsod watched with her.

His followers were participating in all manner of depraved acts of sex and violence. He had seen, and participated in enough of such celebrations that none of it was shocking to him. This was, however, the first raid that they had participated in since his transformation, and they seemed to be pushing themselves to greater heights of savagery and sensuality. Dehsod was proud of them, and he was proud that Tarantella got to see them like this.

“I can turn the sound on if you like,” he offered.

“No, they’re beautiful just like this,” she murmured.

He tried to watch her out of the corner of his eye, but soon found himself staring. She was magnificent. The profile of her face was perfect and seemed to have been carved by a master sculptor. Her body was perfect with long exquisitely shaped legs, a perfectly round ass, a flat stomach, and large firm breasts.

She continued to watch his minions for several minutes, an entertained smile quirking her lips. Dehsod wanted her more with every moment. He felt unsure of himself. He was used to taking what he wanted when he wanted it, but he didn’t want to take this woman. He wasn’t even sure he could. She had undergone the same transformation he had and probably matched him in power.

So Dehsod stood next to this magnificent creature and wondered what he should do. He had just decided to say something when she turned to him with a wicked little smile.

“So, Dehsod, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to take me over to that bed?”

The Prince of Ydin didn’t even bother to answer. He scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder. She was just as wonderful to touch as she was to look at. Her skin was absolutely smooth and soft, but he could easily feel the supple muscles playing underneath it. She was inhumanly hot. It felt as if she were a walking furnace barely contained by her flesh.
Dehsod rushed to the bed. He knelt at the foot and gently laid her across the bed. His breath was taken away as he looked at her laying there. Her hair spread out around her head like some sort of divine, golden halo. Her long legs stretched out before him, followed by the flat expanse of her belly and the firm hills of her breasts.

He paused only a moment before laying across her, pressing his body across hers. Their mouths met, her plump soft lips pressing against his. Their tongues met and began a sensual, hidden dance. Her hands ran across his body, alternating between feather light, almost imperceptible caresses, to sharp rakes of her long nails.

Dehsod explored her body with his own hands, caressing, stroking and squeezing her breasts, thighs, hips and buttocks. Her entire body was a perfect mix of soft and firm. He felt his need for her growing ever greater.

After several minutes she gently pushed against him. He lifted himself up on his elbows and stared down into her shining eyes. He thought he could see a glimpse of her soul in those beautiful orbs and what he saw just enticed him more.

She continued to push until he was lying on his back. There eyes were still locked as she gently massaged his torso and thighs. He reached up to pull her down, but she resisted, and he knew he could not force her.

She turned and straddled his face. He gladly began running his tongue across her warm, swollen labia. He slid his hands across her thighs, up her stomach, and cupped her breasts. He squeezed them and played with her pert nipples.

Serpentine moaned, and ground her hips into his face. Dehsod gently forced his tongue into her and flicked it across her engorged clitoris. Serpentine groaned again, and her thighs pressed tightly against either side of his head. He could feel tiny little spasms pulsing through her muscles. Her vagina opened for him like some exotic flower. He eagerly lapped at her nectar. She tasted tangy with just a hint of honey. Dehsod wanted to devour her.

The Prince of Ydin continued to explore her with his tongue, pushing it deep inside of her, and caressing her labia and clitoris. She continued to moan and writhe on his face.

Dehsod’s need for her became almost painful, and he thrust his hips up toward him, his erection searching for her like a blind serpent. He felt her hand wrap around his shaft and slowly, gently begin to stroke it. Her hand was just a smooth and soft as the rest of her skin.

After a sharp intake of breath, Dehsod redoubled his own efforts. A few moments passed and Serpentine cried out. She pressed herself even more firmly against him and he felt her weight shift above him. A violent shudder passed through her, and then she slumped down on top of him.

He waited only a moment after her orgasm passed, before resuming his exploration of her. She tried to pull away, but he pulled her tightly against him.

She took his cock into her mouth and Dehsod could not suppress a moan. His hips thrust up spasmodically. Serpentine pressed her lips down, and took the full length of his shaft into her mouth and throat. Her tongue began to stroke and caress his penis, spiraling up and down its length, and flicking across the head.

For several moments, Dehsod could do nothing, but revel in ecstasy. When he regained control of himself, he continued to tease her with his tongue.

He felt himself drawing ever closer to release, the pressure in his groin building as she continued. Dehsod moaned as he reached seldom-achieved heights of ecstasy. He could feel the building of tension in his groin muscles, but an instant before his orgasm, Serpentine stopped.

The Prince of Ydin groaned in frustration, and writhed under Tarantella. She eased herself off of his face and gave Dehsod a long, deep kiss.

She straddled his hips and began to rub her warm wet pussy back and forth along the shaft of his cock, slowly and gently at first, but with increasing pressure and speed. Dehsod groaned again, and squirmed under her weight, desperately trying to thrust himself inside of her.

Finally, she gave him the release the so desperately craved. They both gasped sharply as she took him inside herself. Her heat was so intense it was almost painful. Dehsod cried out in ecstasy as her silken warmth engulfed him.

Tarantella seemed momentarily overwhelmed. Her back was arched, her shoulders and head were thrust back, pushing her breasts forward provocatively. She soon regained control of herself, and began to slowly grind her hips against his, first back and forth, then in a circular motion.

She ran her hands across his torso and chest, even as he caressed her stomach, back and breasts. He could feel her manipulating him with her inner muscles.

Her pace and motion soon changed however. She began pumping up and down on him like a piston in some erotic machine. At the apex of every cycle Dehsod slipped free before being plunged back inside of her. He quickly caught her rhythm and timed his own thrusts so that he penetrated her more deeply.

He felt himself building toward climax. Dehsod sat up and buried his face between Serpentine’s breasts. He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against him. He reached up and buried his other hand in her hair. He pulled her head back and traced his tongue and lips across the hollow of her throat.

Suddenly, she pulled herself away, leaving him a moment from release. He bellowed his frustration and pulled her against him once again.

“Do you want to cum, Dehsod?” she asked through a teasing smile.

“Yes, oh, yes,” he gasped.

“Beg for it.”

Dehsod glared up at her, “Never!”

Serpentine shrugged and slid back onto his cock. She began again with her slow grinding and worked her way back up to her more athletic motions. Once again she pulled away at the last moment and left Dehsod an instant from satisfaction.

“Now?”

“No,” growled Dehsod.

Serpentine shrugged again, and the cycle began once more. Dehsod lost count of how many times that exchange occurred, and the amount of time that passed. He eventually became submerged entirely in the ecstasy of the merger of their bodies and the agony of the ultimate pleasure denied.

Finally, when he had been reduced to little more than a strengthless wreck and Tarantella was beginning to show signs of fatigue, he could take no more.

“Now?”

“Yes, please, yes.”

Tarantella smiled in satisfaction, and gave him what he needed. Every muscle in Dehsod’s body seemed to tense for several glorious moments, before relaxing completely. He felt a similar reaction course through Serpentine’s frame, before she slumped down on his chest.

The Commander of the Black Guard had no idea how long they lay there like that. His sense of time was completely lost in a feeling of absolute satisfaction, a feeling that had become increasingly rare over the centuries.

Eventually, after several minutes, or hours, or days, Tarantella stirred. She rolled off of him and the bed and began to make her way across the room to where her dress was laying across one of the table.

She looked over he shoulder with a taunting smile dancing on her face and said, “Next time you get to be on top.”

She had only walked a few steps before Dehsod caught up to her. He grabbed her around the waist and tossed her back onto the bed. She squealed in surprise as she landed face down on the cushions. Serpentine only had time to roll over onto her back before he was on her. He pinned both her arms above her head, and held her down with the weight of his body.

“Good,” he said, “I like to be on top.”

Her shock at his rapid recovery was apparent on her face, and it was Dehsod’s turn to smile.