sup /tg/

Lost and dejected, Cultist picked her way between rocks and thorny plants, trying to find a path through the undergrowth. She didn't know how she had managed to get so badly lost. Her stomach gurgled, empty since the morning's breakfast, which she had eaten from waste bins behind an Imperial office, in a small settlement from which she was now far away.

"So hanghry. Why have hyuu foresaken ahs?" She gazed up at the sky with watery eyes, wondering what she had done to invoke the ire of the gods she worked so hard to please. Not looking where she was going, her ankle became entangled with some kind of vine or root, and her view of the sky became a blur of green, leafy canopy as she sprawled over into a soft mulch of leaves.

Cultist lay there for a few moments, wallowing, but a little glad for the weight to have been taken off her aching feet. Her hand sank into the decomposing vegetation as she propped herself upright. To her left, a spot of colour caught her eye through the foliage. She pulled the leaves aside, and exclaimed happily.

Atop a rotting log sat a cluster of mushrooms, a rich, inviting red colour, with round, white spots.

"Whee knew hyuu would favour ahs! Oh, thenk hyuu, great Kayoss gods!" she cried. They looked delicious. Cultist fell upon the log and grabbed handfuls of the spongy fungus, stuffing her mouth and barely chewing before swallowing greedily.

It tasted like week-old wet cardboard.

"Eet is bettohr than going hanghry, we suppose."

She ate her fill of the mushrooms, which, disappointingly, only seemed to taste more bitter the more she ate. By the end she was forcing them down, desperate to fill her growling stomach, which was now competing with her taste buds to decide whether the mushrooms would stay or go. She covered her mouth, stifling a belch. She couldn't offend the gods by not showing appreciation for their benevolence.

The lingering flavour wasn't quite so bad once she had rinsed her mouth out with water from a nearby stream. She spat and rubbed her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she wandered onwards, trying to forget the taste. At least her belly was full now, anyway.

It was getting dark. Cultist had to find somewhere to sleep, preferably somewhere near civilization. She didn't know what kind of creatures lurked in the forests of this alien world. There was a vague suggestion of some far-off throbbing sound somewhere to her left, maybe a piece of machinery. Certainly it sounded man-made. With nothing else to guide her, Cultist decided to head towards the noise.

The forest was taking on a decidedly sinister atmosphere. Trees that had seemed normal before were definitely looking twisted and deformed, and in fact, when she looked up, the tips of their branches were waving in a way that suggested movement beyond simply blowing in the breeze. Cultist shivered, and scratched at her arms. It felt like something was crawling on her, although she couldn't see any bugs. It was probably just the cold.

"Ohh... whee ahren't fheeling so ghood," she mumbled to herself. "So tayred. Let ahs just rest aghainst this - " she shrieked as she leaned against a tree, and the bark shifted beneath her palm. Scales of wood slithered under her hands, as if the tree were a giant, vertical snake. She looked up to see branches looming down towards her, and threw up her arms defensively, falling hard onto her backside. She laughed nervously. The branches weren't even moving. Looking again at the tree, it was completely inert, normal.

"Hee hee, scaring mysehlf like that. Whee mahst be ghetting tired."

She screwed her eyes shut, surprised to see little blue sparkles dancing across her visual field. The sound of natural white noise, rushing water, was building from somewhere close. Cold sweat trickled down her flanks. Her stomach churned.

"Eeasy nhow," she murmured. She had some difficulty getting to her feet - the ground was pitching like the deck of a ship in rough seas. "Whee jahst need to find... somewhere..."

The ambient noise of the forest subsided, overpowered by the ringing in her ears. She stumbled into a clearing, almost losing her footing on the lurching ground, then looking up to find the source of the radiant purple light that seemed to be playing all around her. About ten feet away, a horned humanoid sat cross-legged upon an enormous mushroom. From its pair of compound, insectoid eyes, its face tapered down in a triangular shape to a pointed chin beneath a narrow mouth. To its lips it raised a silver flute, held in the grasp of a lobster-like claw, and eerie music cut through the tinnitus with astonishing clarity.

"A-ahre hyuu... a messenger... of thee ghods?" She stuttered. She stepped closer, clinging on to a hanging vine to keep herself upright. The branches above were stretching skywards, bending over to meet above the creature and forming a domed roof. She squinted upwards, watching as each branch split and split again, weaving themselves together and describing an intricate mosaic of leaves and wood which, through some unknown process, began to glow, like a stained glass window lit from behind. The light shone down upon the creature, streaks of green and gold creeping across lavender-coloured skin.

It set the flute down, and the music continued to echo around the chamber. The creature unfolded its limbs and lowered itself from the mushroom gracefully, coming to stand before Cultist and looming over her. It must have been seven feet tall. Cultist was at eye-level with one if its four pairs of nipples - these ones were pierced with golden rings, joined together with a thin chain which also connected them to its pierced navel. Her gaze continued downwards, to the flimsy, silken loincloth tied about the creature's waist. The fabric blew to one side for a moment, and Cultist gasped at what had been concealed beneath.

"You hungered, my child," the creature boomed, somehow without moving its tiny mouth. The words seemed to be spoken directly into Cultist's skull, sounding like a hundred voices in unison. "You have accepted the first gift graciously, and demonstrated your loyalty. Now I shall favour you with something much more pleasant. You are still unfulfilled, I sense."

She wasn't sure whether this would be a trick question. The Chaos gods were certainly fickle. She didn't want to appear ungrateful, but either answer was risky.

"Y... yehs?" she ventured.

"Then I shall bestow upon you sweet nectar," the creature boomed, "such that you may be satisfied." Cultist's eyes widened as something bulged beneath the loincloth, pushing it up and away to one side. "Do not be shy, my child. You may suckle until you have had your fill. Now come, eat! Eat!"

The silken fabric fell away. The creature placed a claw on Cultist's shoulder, and yielding to the gentle but firm pressure, she dropped to her knees. The creature's cucumber-sized protrusion bore down upon her face with menacing intent. Overwhelmed, she leaned backwards, and felt the chitin of the lobster claw against the back of her head.

"Accept my gift!" the voice boomed.

"F-fhor Kayo--mgfff" she was unable to finish the half-hearted exultation before the creature silenced her. The turgid appendage, hot against Cultist's tongue and palpably pulsating, found the back of her throat. She croaked and retched, trying to sound grateful, fighting her gag reflex desperately. Her saliva mingled with the syrupy fluids emerging from the appendage's tip, sweet like honey, and fragrant with the aroma of exotic spices. Cautiously, she closed her lips around the intrusion, and sucked obediently.

Her head swam with sensations. She turned her eyes upwards to meet the unnerving, insectoid gaze of the creature above, and decided she'd rather focus elsewhere. The creature's other claw was grasping the golden chain between its piercings, pulling them taut, its flesh tugged outwards and straining. It rumbled contentedly. The flute music started playing from somewhere; the sound seemed to be coming from all around her.

Cultist's eyes watered as the creature grasped her head in its chitinous claw and forced itself further into her. Her throat bulged as it thrust itself well past her back teeth, holding position while she near-suffocated, before withdrawing and allowing her to take a deep, gasping breath. Some of the fluids caught in her throat and she choked, the fragrant slime drooling from her lips. She was only allowed a second to recover before the creature returned its appendage to her mouth.

Just as she thought she might pass out from lack of air, she felt the thing inside her mouth twitch, and become especially rigid. An instant later her mouth filled with sickly-sweet slime, and, having nowhere else for it to go, she could not help but swallow. It oozed down inside her, the surplus forcing its way out from her lips and her nostrils. It seemed to go on forever. Her teeth ached from the sugary taste.

Finally, she was released, and she doubled over, alternately spitting out or gulping down what was left in her mouth as she panted for air. The stuff pooled between her legs, glistening in the light. The creature's claw tousled her hair, and then its tip came to rest beneath her chin, raising her face upwards.

"Truly, you are a faithful servant of Chaos," the creature rumbled. It stepped back, vanishing in a whirl of perfumed smoke. Cultist drooped backwards onto the ground, exhausted, her vision swimming. Overhead the intricate dome was dissolving, pierced here and there by points of starlight. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, picking herself up and standing on wobbling legs. She lurched off into the undergrowth, following the path least obstructed with plant life.

This direction seemed to be right, she thought. She was heading downhill, which somehow made sense - or at least, it was easier to walk in this direction. The air seemed to be getting damp, though, and the ground was becoming spongy and soft. She almost lost her balance as she stepped in a pool of something thick and sludgy. The trees here seemed devoid of leaves, cracked bark instead decorated all over with colonies of lichen and brown fungus. The stench of decay was in the air.

The mushrooms hadn't sat well in her stomach to start with. Now, with the creature's "gift" on top of them, Cultist's insides were feeling very uneasy indeed. She burped. Her mouth filled with an unmistakeable, watery taste.

She braced herself against a tree, and heaved. The vomit came out brown and pink, the colours bizarrely not mixing together, but remaining as segregated, coloured swirls as she voided her stomach onto the ground. It splashed against her legs. Her vision blurred as her eyes watered, she closed her eyes so she didn't have to look at what she was doing. Colourful mosaics shifted beneath her eyelids.

Something else besides her stomach was making a gurgling noise. She opened her eyes, and saw a hand emerging from the pool of vomit, skin encrusted with warts and boils. Her own stomach's contents dripped from yellowed fingernails.

She stepped back, too transfixed on what was emerging to care about the last mouthful of vomit that was dribbling down her chin. The puddle was spreading now, seeming to absorb anything that it touched. Cultist felt an itching sensation on her chest, and saw half a dozen flies crawling on her skin. The air filled with the drone of insect wings. From out of the pool there emerged a fat, globular body, supported on stumpy legs. Atop the globe, a horned head turned to gaze at her with beady, red eyes.

"H-hello," she said.

The creature spoke, and even from this distance, Cultist could smell its breath, something like rotting medical waste.

"How long has it been," the creature said, gesturing with a terrible finger, "since you washed those undergarments?"

Cultist looked down guiltily at her panties, which were half-concealed beneath the tattered black garment she wore about her waist. She had been wandering for a while now. Opportunities for keeping up with her hygiene hadn't been too frequent.

"A... abouht a week? Whee couldn't fhind any-"
"How filthy," said the creature, "to have been wearing them so long. I'm sure you take pleasure in such depravity, no?"
The mark of Nurgle tattooed on Cultist's skin was itching fiercely. She looked down to see that the skin around it had suddenly become red and inflamed. As she watched, a blister formed and burst, oozing pus. When she looked back up, the creature was practically upon her.
"Such a loyal servant," it said. "Then I shall reward you."

Gnarled hands grabbed her around the torso and hoisted her into the air. Cultist flinched as a scabrous finger stroked her cheek. Below, the creature looked up at her, opening its mouth impossibly wide and exhaling warm, fetid air that made her feel like she might pass out. From between rows of jagged teeth, a long tongue emerged from the creature's mouth, and slithered up the inside of her leg.

"Ah yes," said the creature, "I can taste it on your skin. You are truly a faithful one."

The tip of the creature's slime-slick tongue reached the waistband of Cultist's panties, and curled around it. Gently, ever so slowly, it pulled them down around her knees, exposing their stained inner surface. The tongue lapped against the fabric, and the creature let out a deep, contented sigh.

"Such a delicate flavour, so many elements working in unison," it mused. Cultist blushed. "I wonder," it continued, "What the taste is like directly from the source?"

Cultist felt the wet touch of the creature's tongue sliding against her inner thigh. It crept upwards, and around, and soon its tip was playing up and down along that particularly sensitive, delicate area between Cultist's legs. She shivered in the creature's grasp. The tongue laboured at her, and Cultist was sure she could feel wetness beyond that caused by the saliva alone. Her cheeks flushed red. Down there, her skin tingled with an electric sensation. She grunted as, without warning, the creature very suddenly thrust its tongue up inside her.

"Whee.. are not hyused to having theengs... up there..." she groaned.

The tongue curled back and pressed its moist surface against her, flattening itself against her skin from her navel all the way around to where it was burrowing up inside. It slithered back and forth, controlled by the creature with remarkable dexterity. It rubbed against places that had her shrieking and giggling, even despite the uncomfortable intrusion further back.

The creature lowered her down, so that she was directly above its gaping mouth. She placed her feet either side of its mouth. A blister on the creature's skin burst, and from it emerged a centipede with a body as thick as Cultist's thumb. It crawled up Cultist's leg, coiling around it. Every step it took felt like a pinprick. It was followed by an assortment of beetles and worms, creeping and slithering respectively over her skin.

The creature's movements became faster - less precise, and more forceful. Cultist couldn't help but cry out as the collision of mucus-slick flesh intensified. Slime and juice trickled down the insides of her thighs, dripping into the creature's mouth. She threw her head back, and cried exultations to the Plague Father as her body was wracked with ecstatic release. Something in the movement of the creature's tongue had caused another release of a different kind - wet warmth spread over Cultist's thighs and ran down her legs, and the golden droplets were eagerly gulped down by the creature beneath her. A warm, acrid component was added to the already overpowering stench filling the air.

The creature didn't say another word as it gently lowered her to the floor, stepped back, and sank beneath the surface of the mysteriously enlarged vomit pool. Hot, sticky, and out of breath, Cultist lay dazed for a while before groping around for her panties in the dim light and finding them hanging from a nearby branch. She wasn't sure exactly when they had been removed. She pulled them up around her waist, grimacing as they clung to her wetly. Doing her laundry had now become a high-priority task.

The thick air was making her feel nauseous, even though she had nothing left to vomit. Brushing away the last of the insects that were clinging to her, Cultist decided it would be best not to dwell amongst the decay. Blue light was faintly visible between the trees further ahead, and she headed towards it, in the absence of any better idea. She was feeling better now that her stomach had purged itself - the uneasy feeling of the meal sitting in her belly was replaced with a light-headedness that was almost pleasant. She found herself skipping along as she picked her way between rotted boughs and mossy rocks, and as her spirit lifted, Cultist found that the plants around her were becoming more vital and healthy. The decaying swamp, and what happened there, were fast becoming a hazy memory - in fact, she couldn't seem to hold on to the thought of it even if she tried. What if she had taken the path uphill, rather than down to that stagnant mire? How had she even decided which direction to travel now?

Her decision must have been correct, she thought - for the first time, there were signs of civilisation, something man-made amongst the strange, golden-yellow plants: the ground beneath her feet was paved with dark blue stone. Surely the path would lead her somewhere. She skipped along happily, and then slowed and stopped as she realised the route was not going to be quite so simple after all: the path diverged, presenting her with two options, and no basis to choose between them.

Cultist vacillated, taking a few steps left, thinking better of it, then turning back after having walked for ten yards in the alternative direction. She eventually decided to stick to her original choice, and headed down the path. Gradually, the dark blue colour of the stones segued to brown, and then brick-red. The plants around her were less full of vitality now, dry and spindly. The air grew hot. Cultist felt a scratch on her arm, and saw that she had brushed against a particularly thorny plant. Blood beaded along the thin cut. She licked it off.

The undergrowth was becoming difficult to navigate - the amount of clear ground was shrinking, the thorny bushes closing in from each side. The vegetation seemed to shift around her, creaking and groaning. She glanced back nervously to see the direction from which she had come was now somehow blocked with thick brambles. They twisted and intertwined with each other, the thorns budding out from their central vines and growing longer even as she watched. Some of them wept black ichor from their tips. The only way out, it seemed, was to carry on.

She crouched down, and carefully pushed away foliage as she made her way into what had become a narrow tunnel through brittle, woody plants. Cultist winced as her hair became entangled with the growth overhead, tugging at her scalp. She slipped, and something gouged at her calf. The hand she reached out with to steady herself found a clump of nettles. What she had assumed to be sweat trickled down into her eyes and blinded her with stinging redness. She groped around, every movement seemed to cause some new laceration now. Her clothes were rapidly becoming shredded.

Somehow, she managed to make some headway, feeling the plants yield before her. She crawled forward on jagged rocks, grazing her knees. Another few inches and the ground fell away beneath her. Loose bits of stone clattered off woody stems, she reached out to try and grasp something to prevent her fall, but could hold onto nothing. She cried out as barbs tore into her skin, and she tumbled uncontrollably downwards through darkness.

Suddenly, there became apparent a dull red light filtering through the branches. A second later, Cultist finally tumbled out from among the plants, sprawling onto dry, dusty soil. She lay, winded, for a few moments, before cautiously raising her head. With a shaking hand, she brushed blood-matted strands of hair away from her face. Overhead, red clouds seemed to glow from within, casting a dim light all around her. She rolled on to her side, and was startled to see a clawed foot a few inches away from her face. Her eyes followed the shape of a muscular leg, to a waist girded in a black loincloth. Above that, a broad, bare chest, the skin a deep red. The creature's head bore a pair of curved horns. A black tongue ran along razor teeth as it licked its lips.

It grabbed Cultist by her hair, pulling her to her feet. She grasped weakly at its immense hand, trying to get it to loosen its grip. Standing upright now, her eyes were level with the creature's collarbones. It forced her head back, and licked her face.

"A fine flavour," it said. "Although tainted by the filth on your skin. What have you been doing, girl?"
"Whee aur jahst trying to find ahr way out of thees fohrest," she said. "P-perhaps hyuu can help ahs...?" she ventured.
The creature chuckled to itself. "Perhaps I could," it said. "After you've done something for me."
Cultist looked into its eyes nervously.
"They say the Blood God cares not whence the blood flows," the creature said. "I, however, do. The blood is much sweeter from some places" (he ran a finger across Cultist's chest, then licked off what he had collected) "than others. And as for how it's brought forth, well..."

Still grasping Cultist's hair with one hand, the creature used the other to loosen its loincloth. She looked down, and gulped. The creature's penis was becoming engorged: a knobbly appendage, studded at random with bony protrusions. The slit at its tip parted gruesomely to reveal two rows of tiny, sharp teeth, and a forked tongue flickered out between them.

"It wants to feed," the creature said.

He turned Cultist around, and shoved her to the ground. He placed one hand under her abdomen, lifting her hind quarters while she struggled to raise her face out of the dirt. She felt its calloused palms on her backside, and then it placed its thumbs into the cleft of her buttocks, parting them roughly.

"Please, nhot there," she begged. "Whee will do anything else. Anything bhut that."

Her pleas went unheard, and Cultist buried her face in the dirt as the creature forced itself in. She bit her lip, trying her hardest not to cry out. She just had to suffer through this, and then the creature had said it would help her. Surely she could bear it, just for a little while.

The appendage sank in more inches than Cultist cared to estimate, and the creature let it rest there awhile while Cultist groaned and gasped. She had managed so far not to scream, but her resolve was broken immediately as the creature began to pull out again. The bony barbs, which had slipped in with relative ease, were tearing at her from the inside. Dozens of tiny cuts made into fragile, sensitive tissue had her screaming for mercy, fists pattering against the ground as she thrashed and squirmed.

"Oh, gods, phleese! Waht have whee done to deserve thees? Whayy?"

Something thick and warm was running down her thighs. She screwed her eyes shut and tried to control her breathing as the creature completed its withdrawal, and then sank in again for a second time. Amongst the overwhelming agony, she could still feel the sensation of the tiny tongue at the end of the creature's member lapping at the fluids it had brought forth.

It was crouched over her now, hands moving further up her back. Claws sank into her shoulders, preventing her from crawling away as the creature drove itself into her again. The agony was less; the creature's intrusion was now well lubricated, and its passage slightly widened. She lurched forward, knees slipping in the pool of congealing fluids.

After a few minutes of the terrible assault the creature dismounted her, preferring to lap up the blood with its own mouth, rather than that of its penis. It paused every so often to bite into Cultist's scratched buttocks, or to lick a little blood from elsewhere on her body. The dark red pool in which she lay was spreading to worrying proportions. The burning inflammation of the myriad cuts she had suffered was abating, replaced with a body-wide chill. She couldn't even feel what the creature was doing at her rear end any more. She tried to raise her head, and found that she lacked the strength to do so.

"Hyuu said... hyuu would help ahs..."

The only reply was the wet sound of the creature lapping at her beleaguered hind quarters. It faded as the light dimmed. Cultist felt an ache in her throat, something trickled down her cheek, and then consciousness left her altogether.

---

Trees fell before the curved bulldozer blade mounted at the front of the Rhino as it ploughed through the vegetation. Sitting half out of the roof hatch, sister Lumia scanned the surroundings, envious of the others in the vehicle's climate controlled interior.

The tank burst through a thicket into a slightly clearer area, and she shouted for the driver to bring the vehicle to a halt. Lumia swung the pintle-mounted storm bolter to aim at the figure, lying prone amongst a patch of cactuses. There was a lot of blood on one of them, its stalk stripped bare of spines. What had gone on here?

From this distance she could see it was a human girl, her sallow skin covered with cuts and grazes, lying in a pool of gore. A wild grox was crouched between the girl's legs, lapping hungrily at the coagulated residues. It turned to look at the tank and then fled, startled, into the forest.

Lumia informed the rest of the battle sisters, and a minute later they stood around the girl, trying to ignore the stench. One of them, using the tip of her armoured boot, rolled her over onto her back. The girl's eyes were turned back into her head, tongue drooping out between dry, cracked lips. To their surprise, her chest was rising and falling with shallow breaths.

Lumia unsheathed her bolt pistol, aiming at the wretched girl's head. She bore marks of the chaos gods on her skin - clearly, she was beyond salvation. Then, Lumia felt a hand on her wrist - that of sister Gloria - gently lowering the weapon for her.

"No," she said. "She doesn't pose a threat. Look at her. She's almost dead. But not quite. She's ready to be reborn."

Sister Gloria turned to the two other battle sisters. "Contact the base. Tell them to prepare to treat the girl's injuries, and to get a cell ready. We'll show her the light of the Emperor."