A/N: In the famous words of Scrubdink Magoo, I need to get out more.

(Also, heads up, I'm going to be writing something MUCH dumberer in this later on ;) )


"This one, my sweet, is Rielle. She's actually been scouting you from afar these past few days, and has wanted nothing more than to feel your long, fat cock in her asshole."

"Rielle…" Zekel tasted the name on his lips, purring as he rubbed the rear of the dazzling daemonette. She was bent, grinding her ungodly sex into the Marine's, smiling as he called out her name.

The campgrounds were roaring with the sound of sex. Durell's night glistened with golden stars, dancing across the dark sky. A calm had befallen the planet-pillaging, empire-saving hordes of Slaanesh's pleasure demons, and the Lamenters Chapter of the Space Marines.

Locked behind him, knelt Hira, a former Space Marine of the Angels of Ecstasy. Twice now had "she" abandoned her name – where once she was a Son of Ulthanas, turned Angel, then corrupted further by Slaanesh's powerful temptations.

She had her hands, soft as the kiss of an Angel, wrapped around her lover's length, keeping him rigid throughout her introduction of her two daemonettes. Her two pairs of breasts, gifts from her God, rubbed needily against Zekel's back, as her heart-tipped tail whipped giddily around. Compared to the daemonette charges she was tasked with training, Hira was a giant, and lorded over the both of them with ease.

Rielle had the curves to prove her worth to Slaanesh – a daughter spawned from the Warp's energies, created solely to be used, or to dominate. And by her reaction to Zekel's meat, rubbed against her dark purple ass, Rielle knew her place in this newly formed relationship of theirs.

The very air around the Space Marine couple crackled with their presences – it was enough to drive the other, Ziandra, to finger herself madly, her pink cheeks dusted with a heavy blush. Her body, whilst lithe, was more inclined to temporary transformations. With a flick of her finger, Hira could bend the girl's body to her will, creating another hole for Zekel to fuck, or adding a cock for Rielle to suck.

Ziandra had once willingly given herself to Slaanesh, sacrificing her gang down in the Hive City for a chance at a better life. She was spirited away, and left a daemonic taint on the city that later drove it to be found and dominated by the Daemon Price she called her new God.

Though she'd spent untold years of her new life getting fucked, corrupted, and used in every which way – she'd never found a domination nor a warmth such as the one she felt from Zekel and Hira. She displayed herself openly, bowing to their sheer strengths of will, burning the details of their bodies into her mind.

She wanted them both to know that she was theirs. Crawling on her stomach, fingers jilling her pussy still, Ziandra slid behind and beneath the locked Marines, taking Zekel's balls in her mouth.

"Good girl, Ziandra. Make sure to keep up with our sweet, here… Us Marines can build up quite the speed…"

Rielle's tight asshole invited him in – riveted tentacles tickling his entire length as he penetrated the daemonette – showing her the "will of the Emperor". She cried out as Zekel took grip of her hips, slamming himself in and out, growling as his balls quaked inside Ziandra's mouth.

"That's good, my sweet… One hot load, down the hatch, and she'll be all yours…" Hira whispered to her lover, nibbling at the nape of his neck.

Hours later, they collapsed. Stained and bathed, Ziandra and Rielle licked at the other, and the limp length between them. Hira snored, a smirk plastered on her face as Zekel groaned himself to sleep, loosely embracing them.

A sun rose over the weary planet Durell. Slaaneshi hordes lay in the thousands amongst the carnal planes of the daemon world, resting eagerly. Buried beneath three warm bodies, a tent over his head, a young Marine awoke.

He breathed, very, very deeply.

A deep breath in, and a shallow, steady breath out. Cute moans eased out of the brightly coloured bodies clinging to him as his scarred stomach stirred.

"…By the Emperor… What happened?" Zekel asked aloud, his throat hoarse, voice quiet.

Judging by the sizes, physiology, and daemonic features of the bodies beneath him, Zekel made an educated guess as to the nature of his-

'I'm naked. They are too… And… By the Emperor, we coupled…'

He waited, staring down at the inhuman beauties atop him – the larger female adorned with the same modifications as he – a former marine?

'Slaaneshi forces, daemon's corruption…'

He only rested – a gilded, glorious calm resting over the planet's surface as he breathed. No shame nor daemonic presence plagued Zekel, no markings nor (further) blemishes to his body – save for a purity seal that was stuck to his sac.

Conflict dared to rise within him – caused by the simple lack thereof. Why didn't he feel shame? Why was there no clear downfalling to his psyche after having given into Slaanesh's temptations?

Why wasn't he wringing the necks of the three harlots who had defiled him, and why did that question bother him so much?

The questions and conflict faded all the same – he was left with a sense of peace as he sensed his brothers awakening in similar states. It spread throughout the campgrounds – a sense of knowing that the person in the tent next to yours had gone, for lack of a better term, insane the night previously.

No judgement was passed on. All Lamenters and their assisting companies had the same thing happen to them – and none could hide the fact. It was freeing, like there was nothing to hide between the yellow brothers.

Zekel arose, languid, and carefully shifted the clingy bodies off himself.

"Forgive me, rest easy…" He intoned, whispering sweetly into the pointed ears of the Slaaneshi pleasure Marine, letting her body rest softly against his makeshift bedspread. She moaned at the loss of heat – reaching out for the daemonettes to replace it.

Zekel poked his head out his tent, finding the Lamenter's Chapter Master Malakim Phoros standing stark naked, darting his gaze about. Malakim evaluated the camp, and sighed, another Slaaneshi Marine making light conversation with him as he went about his morning routine.

"Master?"

Malakim shushed the younger Marine, and smiled.

"Zekel! Boy, why are you awake at such an- You've a purity seal strapped to your testes." Malakim whispered, keeping his voice hushed for the sleeping remnants of the Lamenters and their daemonic lovers. The male-turned-female Marine giggled at the marked testes, hand wrapped tightly around Malakim's waist.

"Good morning to you, brother. I assume Hira treated you right?" He/She/It asked, playing with an elongated, fleshy tail that sprouted from above her backside. Zekel shook his head and cleared his thoughts – the name "Hira" triggering his memory.

Blood crashed against his cheeks, and his cock twitched.

Malakim's partner smirked, and kissed him on his cheek.

"She did."

"M-Master Malakim… Do you have any idea why…" Zekel found the words dying in his throat – did he truly want to know why the Lamenters survived a Slaaneshi onslaught, on an infested world, back in the Jericho Reach? Did he really want to know why his men weren't bound, gagged, and being twisted against their will to abide by Slaanesh's will?

'No…' Zekel thought, questioning still – what if this was all a test? A ruse by Slaanesh, to test his, and the Lamenter's wills?

"I can feel it, Zekel. A warmth, a presence of some kind has spread… I… I can't say if I know, truly, but the energies of Chaos have…" The Chapter Master's hands shook at the idea – something that could force between these two armies, and possibly more.

"Slaanesh's hold over us has shrunken. I can no longer feel his guiding whims, nor her prying stare…" Malakim's partner hummed, her fingers interlocking with his. A loss, and yet, somehow freed of the Prince's stare, she appeared at ease, no rapacious fire to be seen in her eyes.

"By the Emperor… So…" Zekel bore his stare into the ground, fists clenched and ready for action. Malakim placed a calming hand on the shoulder of the Marine, and smiled.

"We're not mobilising for some time, young Zekel. Should this be the trick of a demented beast of Chaos, then we're already finished. If it is something that we couldn't possibly comprehend, then the effort to do so would be futile."

"Though this might sound biased, I'd suggest you find comfort here, Zekel. Hira has always woken early if she'd ever earned her rest, and I doubt she'll be happy if she finds her lover escaped her grasp…" The pleasure Marine chuckled, tail swishing.

"Uh-"

"Consider it an order, child. And get that bloody seal off your balls."

And so, with great hesitation, Zekel turned heel back to his tent, throwing a gaze back to his Chapter Master, who kept his eyes on his resting men, chanting some prayers. All while his companion embraced him, rocking gently with every step.

Zekel returned, gobsmacked, and entered the darkened fray of his tent. Hira, tracing circles along the dimples of Ziandra's back, grinned at her lover's return.

"Slept well, I assume?" Her voice brought back more depraved memories – her teasing commands, and his insistence of showing dominance to the daemonettes…

"B-Best I've had in centuries, darling…" He joked, slipping back into the bedspread alongside his lovers. One arm each, he grabbed Ziandra by her pale pink ass, and Rielle by her hips, dragging them back to their earlier positions on his chest.

"What, no room for me~?" Hira cooed, making room to lie herself down on her fellow Marine's chest.

"If I recall correctly, you called these two "worthless wastes of holes who needed all the help they could get". I'm just giving them their help," Zekel chuckled, reaching for a sheet, wrap, or field blanket to wrap themselves in.

The corrupted Marine laughed at him, and shook her head, humming as she laid upon Zekel's chest. The Lamenters around him, no doubt in similar positions, stayed quiet. The prayers of his Chapter Master did well to soothe him, and his fellow Marines, corrupt or not.

"We'd know best how to wake you, Zek… Remember this call of ours," Hira whispered, hands softly tracing against the abdominals of her lover.

Ziandra shifted, and mewled into the embrace of the Marine.

"Mm… Fuck until you can't…"

Rielle scrunched her nose up, then shifted a leg over Zekel's, sliding a hand down between the rubbing sexes of her domineering lovers.

"…Rest until you can…"