Chapter 127(Orphan)
Sitting on her personal bed, in the permanent bedroom that she shared with several nuns, Sister Superior Clementine of the Order of the Painful Path cooed lovingly at her baby son Sebastian Sevenson, as Sister Mary held the baby to suckle at Clementine's bared breast for her.
Clementine had given birth to Sebastian over a month ago, and had named him in honour of the great Imperial hero Sebastian Thor.
The baby looked like a mix of Clementine and it's father Franklin, but actually it looked an awful lot like it's grandmother Wendy Sevenson, which slightly irritated Clementine.
Clementine cooed lovingly at her son, genuinely fond of her tiny infant. The child was born pure, as neither Franklin nor Clementine were heretics, but she never the less feared the taint from their blood.
It was not spoken of much, but Clementine's full name was Clementine Dior, the biological daughter of Noise Marine Michelangelo Dior of the Emperors Children, a heretic traitor who had betrayed the Emperor with the rest of his Legion back during the Horus Heresy itself, the ancient villain now over ten thousand years old and still going strong. Her biological father was a depraved Slaanesh worshipping pervert whose actions included impregnating vast numbers of innocent imperial civilian women, generating Clementine with one such forced coupling.
Clementine's biological mother was at least pure in the Emperor's sight, and to protect her reputation her name was kept secret, with Clementine instead being given the last name of her father to let her focus on her shame.
Like almost all members of the Order of the Painful Path, Clementine had started life in an orphanage of strict chastisement as the newborn child of heretic parents, she had completed her brutal agony filled 18 year long Painful Path to its completion, and this perfected discipline had rendered her so psychologically strong that she was completely incorruptible. She was impossible to torture into breaking or to tempt into sin, her mind was far too hardened to yield to any such things.
She had been completely redeemed of the sins of her birth by the completion of the Painful Path, and she had been counted as a graduated Progena, with all of the opportunities available to her as any other Progena. She could have become anything she chose, a Commissar, an officer of the Imperial Navy, maybe even a Planetary Governor. Completely incorruptible Progena from the Painful Path were highly regarded and could go far in life.
But Clementine had been humble and had felt called to join the Order of the Painful Path as a Sister of Battle, offering her service to the organisation that had redeemed her.
She had risen to the rank of Sister Superior, the equivalent rank of a sergeant in the Sisters of Battle, and had been in command of a squad of sisters who permanently guarded one of the Orphanages of Strict Chastisement.
Then on that fateful night she had entered the bus with the fleeing survivors of the orphanage, and she had been captured by the Night Lords.
Out of over a hundred Battle Sisters who guarded the orphanage and it's forest road checkpoints, Sister Superior Clementine had been the only survivor, at least out of all the checkpoints until that cut down tree blocked the road, and she had diligently never stopped fighting the good fight as a Sister of Battle.
Clementine was a woman of honour and unimpeachable integrity, unbowed and unbroken by any of the ordeals so far, and she would never break no matter what happened.
Clementine looked lovingly at her tiny baby suckling at her breast, bending her head as much as she could in her restrictive metal pillory to see. The baby was completely innocent, with Wendy's brown hair and much of her face, but also with other traits from Clementine and Franklin.
The baby didn't understand anything about who or what it was, it was just an innocent baby. Fortunately, VERY fortunately, this baby would never need to experience the Painful Path as neither Franklin nor Clementine were actually heretics, and this baby would have a much kinder childhood than the agony of Clementine and Franklin's own upbringing.
Clementine was glad, she didn't want to see her dear little one suffer as she had suffered.
Clementine was still worried about what biological traits her son might inherit from her, given her own biological father. She would just have to be extremely vigilant in raising her son.
Clementine shifted in her irritating pillory, it was extremely inconvenient. The pillory was thick but not very wide, reducing its weight and letting her at least see over it to look down at her body. It completely immobilised her neck and both wrists, with her wrists permanently held out about a foot to either side of her head, making her extremely helpless.
The pillory was stainless steel and very thoroughly welded shut, so that it could never be removed, and it was so tight around her wrists that she could barely even wiggle her arms at all.
After over a year in the pillory her arm muscles had atrophied away from lack of movement, making her arms as weak as one of Wendy Sevenson's tickle slaves if she ever got them free again. Clementine still had some strength in her hands from deliberately grabbing and squeezing objects to exercise them, and had strength in the few muscles required to use her pillory as a weapon, from over a year of trying to brain heretics with it, but other than that she had lost her arm strength.
Clementine could barely move in the thing, and could move even less with the short heavy chain and shackles that were welded shut around her ankles, just barely enough chain length between her ankles to let her walk, and certainly not enough chain length to let her kick anyone higher than their ankles.
Clementine was extremely itchy all the time, incapable of reaching any part of her own body to scratch, but as a graduate of the Painful Path she easily ignored even the most aggravating itch without complaint. Her neck and wrists and ankles were calloused from constantly rubbing on her restraints, and she daily needed to wiggle them as much as possible to prevent pressure sores from forming.
Clementine was completely helpless without other people to care for her, she couldn't feed herself, clean herself, groom herself, dress herself, or anything else at all. Her restraints were designed to render her a helpless rape slave for the pleasure and convenience of her slave owner, and were extremely humiliating and undignified to endure.
Clementine gazed intently at her baby son held to her breast by Sister Mary. Clementine would never ever be able to hold her own child, never be able to care for him beyond providing milk, never be able to do anything at all. The thought made her feel a sting of sadness.
Wendy Sevenson had repeatedly offered Clementine freedom from the hated pillory, asking only that Clementine agree to promise to be nonviolent, but Clementine had been unable to promise this. Wendy had begged and implored Clementine to be nonviolent, apparently wishing to let Clementine enjoy freedom from the hated restraints, but Clementine could not be tempted into abandoning her duty and had refused to promise anything.
No matter how nice these heretics tried to be, Clementine would still try to kill them instantly if she was ever set free from her restraints, this was the duty of any sister of battle.
This thought made her remember that detestable weakling Miriael Sabathiel, what a pathetic creature. Cracked under torture into becoming a traitor and a heretical whore!
To Clementine who had endured 18 years of torture to earn the forgiveness needed to even become a sister of battle, the notion that a sister of battle would ever give up this privilege under torture was just absolutely pathetic!
Those "normal" Progena women who got to enjoy some cushy Scholar upbringing and then simply walk into the sisters of battle, and then cracked as soon as they experienced just a tiny little bit of torture, it was so pathetic that the word "pathetic" didn't even do it justice!
The battle sisters of the Order of the Painful Path had always had a rather lowly opinion of the battle sisters of other Orders for exactly this reason, they were corruptible and had not endured anywhere near the same level of suffering to earn their positions. Meeting Miriael Sabathiel had only deepened Clementines low opinion of the other Orders, they were so weak.
Sebastian finished suckling, and Sister Mary burped him and covered Clementine's breast for her.
Clementine smiled lovingly at her baby, feeling a very natural motherly love for her child, and Sister Mary noticed the look.
"It is nice to see you smile, you are usually so grim," Sister Mary said happily.
"There is usually little to smile about on a daemon world in the midst of heretics," Clementine replied calmly.
"Well when you put it that way I guess, I try not to think about it in that light," Sister Mary conceded.
"What other light is there to think about our circumstances?", Clementine replied.
"Well, things are not so bad, we are well treated for the most part, we are safe from harm, we get food, water, shelter, we are not raped, it could be a lot worse than this," Sister Mary reasoned.
"Aye, it could be worse in that respect, but being raped less than you expected is still hardly a reason to smile," Clementine said seriously.
Sister Mary's face fell, looking put out, and she fell silent.
Clementine sighed, "We do still have many blessings to be thankful for," Clementine conceded, wishing to encourage Sister Mary.
"Indeed, such as our little cutie pies," Sister Mary brightened up, looking at both of their babies.
Clementine allowed herself a smile.
The pair of them were currently alone in the room with only their babies. The room contained 4 beds and 4 baby cribs, and was the permanent sleeping room of Clementine, Sister Mary, Sister Brooke, and Mother Superior, as well as their respective babies.
Sister Brooke and Mother Superior were not here right now, having left the room with their babies to visit other people in the building, leaving Sister Mary and Clementine alone with their babies.
Clementine gazed at her baby son with a fond smile, unable to help smiling, she loved him the way only a mother can.
"I just love seeing you smile like that," Sister Mary said again.
"Is it so unusual?", Clementine ask her.
"Well yeah, for over a year you have spat on people and raged and tried to kill people, and now you are happy and smiling and gentle. I had not realised you were capable of being so joyful and gentle before you became a mother," Sister Mary explained.
"You make me sound like a cold hearted monster," Clementine noted, but not said with any hostility.
"Well Wendy and Octavia never get to see this side of you, I think they would be amazed to see you right now," Sister Mary elaborated.
"Those two homosexual heretics matter little to me, I would gladly see both perish," Clementine said with hard resolve.
"How can you say that!, I know they are heretics, but to be glad for them to perish is too much," Sister Mary exclaimed.
"You are growing soft and weak, control yourself and purge this sinful tolerance of evil," Clementine reprimanded severely.
Sister Mary gave Clementine a look that suggested that she considered Clementine to be a mentally disturbed lunatic, and then soothed her by saying exactly what Clementine wanted to hear, but obviously lacking sincerity!
"I am not a lunatic in need of coddling!", Clementine said angrily.
"(Sigh), you are being ridiculous Sister Superior Clementine," Sister Mary accused.
"How so?", Clementine demanded.
"If you just behaved yourself then Wendy would let you out of that thing and you wouldn't be being deflowered six times a day. Why do you keep doing this?", Sister Mary explained in exasperation.
"I am incorruptible and have not changed since the hour we were abducted, you on the other hand have softened your zeal and become content in the face of evil," Clementine accused with the perfect truth on her side.
"Yes of course I have softened my zeal against Wendy and Octavia, I spent months constantly in their presence. I consider Octavia to be a friend...", Sister Mary began.
Clementine spat hard in Sister Mary's face at this blasphemy.
Sister Mary cried out in shock, wiping her face and moving away from Clementine.
"Repent!", Clementine roared at her.
"Repent for what?!", Sister Mary exclaimed in dismay.
"Repent for having sinful friendship with a heretic!"
"It's not a "sinful" friendship, I don't do anything sinful as long as I keep away from her lust aura, it is completely platonic," Sister Mary defended herself.
"Having ANY sort of friendship with a heretic is sinful!", Clementine snarled.
"Ferrus Manus was friends with Fulgrim," Sister Mary began.
"And Fulgrim beheaded Ferrus Manus!", Clementine interrupted.
"Octavia is the lesser evil," Sister Mary insisted.
"Compared to the other nightmare horrors around this place yes she is the lesser evil, but she is still evil," Clementine replied.
"Unless she is tickling a restrained sexual partner, Octavia isn't cruel or malicious at all. She has been kind to all of us," Sister Mary argued.
"She attempted to enslave my mind with her terrible Acquiesce Kiss!", Clementine snapped.
"What was that even like?," Sister Mary asked with morbid curiosity.
"My mind was filled with pleasure that would have destroyed any mind weaker than my own, but my mind is too strong for such tricks and I head butted that harlot in the face," Clementine said with maybe a hint of pride.
"The Painful Path has indeed made you strong Sister Superior Clementine," Sister Mary said respectfully.
"Indeed it has, you would be wise to take heed of my words Sister Mary," Clementine replied.
"I take heed of everything you say Sister Superior Clementine, I simply have some differences of opinion in what is the best way to serve the Emperor," Sister Mary reconciled respectfully.
"And what do you believe is the best way to serve the Emperor?", Clementine asked firmly but with less hostility than before.
"The best way to serve the Emperor is to husband our resources prudently and not waste our finite resources on lesser evils while greater evils still exist. What good does it do to defeat the least of evil if the greatest of evil is left unchecked, that achieves nothing at all. It is best to focus on the greatest evils first and to focus on becoming strong enough to even face these great evils," Sister Mary reasoned with surprising wisdom.
Clementine cocked her head at this.
"For now we must focus on raising our children to be fine servants of the Emperor. Our sons will then become Night Lords, and with them we will have the power to put down the greatest of evils," Sister Mary explained.
"And in the meantime why not also purge these lesser evils?," Clementine pressed.
"If we attack these heretics now before we have our army of adult sons, then our sons will never get the chance to reach adulthood before we are all slaughtered." Sister Mary countered.
"You are sounding like a pragmatic Night Lord," Clementine replied distastefully.
"They are not wrong to be pragmatic, that is one of the few things I admire about the Night Lords legion. The Emperor's Imperium is so wastefully run, so many resources are wasted in hasty and poorly planned wars where even a month of pausing and planning would deliver victory at ten times less the cost. The galaxy could have been completely cleansed by now if pragmatism and prudence had been the norm for the last ten thousand years," Sister Mary said passionately.
"That reeks of radical Recongregrationalism!", Clementine accused.
"I am not going that far for goodness sake!, I am NOT advocating for the current leaders of the Imperium to be removed from office for incompetence and replaced by some sinful merit based system, perish the thought!, I am merely saying that if the upper echelons would learn the virtues of patience and proper planning before undertaking an action, it would result in a far more efficient use of resources," Sister Mary frantically explained herself.
Clementine paused, this argument was not without merit, prudence was indeed a virtue.
"Consider the sheer waste of soldiers in the Eastlight Nebula Wars, only one in three Imperial Guard soldiers even had a weapon due to hideous incompetence by the Departmento Munitorum not checking if the soldiers even all had weapons!, Every man without a weapon died during that war, it was a stupid waste of the Emperor's soldiers that could have been avoided by simply pausing for one day to make sure that the soldiers had all been issued weapons!", Sister Mary exclaimed passionately.
"The debacle of the Eastlight Nebula War was an isolated incident," Clementine defended.
"I can think of at least twelve hundred other similar "isolated incidents" just off the top of my head, the Imperium does this all the time, they just rush headlong into war without even pausing to do the most rudimentary preparation beforehand, wasting lives and resources that could otherwise be spent in tens of battles if managed prudently," Sister Mary countered.
Clementine paused at this, not having an answer to this observation.
"Perhaps... Perhaps...", Clementine conceded uncomfortably.
"We must be more prudent than the Departmento Munitorum and not simply squander our resources without gain. If we are just patient then we will have an entire army of adult Night Lord sons who are completely submissive to our commands, we will be able to do almost anything then. But we will never get to that point if we just attack everyone now while we lack our full future strength," Sister Mary insisted.
Clementine had to admit that this strategy actually had some merits, an army of loyal space marines would indeed be a great help in cleansing the filth all around them.
Clementine was about to say something when Sister Brooke suddenly entered the room in haste.
"Franklin's mutant biological sister Hyacinth is here!", Sister Brooke informed them.
Clementine shrugged, this building already had many mutants including Violet herself, one more didn't really make much difference.
"She wants to see all of our babies, she is their biological aunt after all," Sister Brooke added when Clementine and Sister Mary showed disinterest at this news.
Clementine felt a sharp stab of maternal protectiveness for her baby son Sebastian, she didn't want this filthy mutant to lay a hand on him!
"She can *see* our babies but not touch them," Sister Mary offered with craven softness!
"Sister Mary!", Clementine barked in disapproval.
"Come on Clementine, this mutant is still the biological aunt of our babies, it's not unreasonable for her to at least look at them without touching them," Sister Mary insisted.
"No," Clementine said inflexibly.
"Well I am going with MY baby, and you don't even have free arms to hold your baby without me, so your son is coming too lest he fall on the floor without someone with use of their arms to hold him. You can either come with your son or you can stay here, but I am taking Sebastian with me," Sister Mary insisted.
Clementine didn't like this, but Sister Mary simply carried her and Clementine's babies out of the room, and Clementine's maternal anxiety feelings compelled her to follow to keep an eye on her baby.
***...
Franklin's paternal half-sister Hyacinth Sevenson looked a bit different from the last time she had been seen.
Gone was the horrifically burned mass of scar tissue, replaced by obvious plastic surgery with new flawless skin to look like she had before being burned.
She was still a mutant with bird feet and rainbow feathers for hair and eyebrows, still hobbled about clumsily from obvious disabilities from her heavily mutated body, was still weird looking in face, small and ungainly in body.
Her weird shaped face was not completely repellent to look at, and might charitably be described as "cute" in a weird sort of way, but she certainly would not be winning any beauty pageants.
She was a tiny frail little thing, leaning on a pink dyed metal staff of profane sorcerous design for balance, and if not for her witchcraft she could probably be defeated by just one finger by any able bodied person.
Currently she was dressed in skimpy black dominatrix leathers composed mostly of skimpy leather straps, that she lacked the breast size to really pull off well, just making her attempted outfit choice look sad and overreaching. Her mutant bird feet were completely bare, and at least the majority of the skin on her body was also left bare by her skimpy sexual attire, with only her breasts and private parts really getting fully covered at all.
With one hand she pushed a pram, in which currently slept a tiny swaddled mutant baby. The baby was clearly her own, the mottled mutant egg she had laid back on the Nightmare Asylum having apparently finally hatched now.
Behind Hyacinth stood her power armour clad brutal adult Night Lord boyfriend Jack Sevenson, the father of her mutant baby. Jack was not really engaging with anyone, and seemed here mostly to protect his girlfriend Hyacinth and their tiny baby like a body guard, wise considering all the rapist chaos space marines currently loose in the lower levels of this huge tower.
The completely naked Violet was currently running forward towards Hyacinth, having used her safe word to ditch Franklin's control right now, and Violet joyfully hugged her maternal half-sister Hyacinth with a fond embrace.
Hyacinth warmly returned the hug, and the two sisters just joyously hugged each other tightly for a long time, overjoyed to be reunited after like two months apart.
Hyacinth let out a parrot-like squawk, and in an avian voice screeched out, "I missed... You so much... Violet!", followed by another loud squawk, her bird mutations extending to her voice box so that her voice was the voice of a talking bird.
"I missed you so much too Hyacinth!", Violet said in her own much more human sounding voice, with only the slightest hint of bird in her voice to give away that her voice box was also at least part mutant bird.
The two sisters were born of TigerLily, born of the Tzeentch worshipping Muhammad Clan of Bird Mutants, and had the bird mutations so favoured by Tzeentch. These sisters had been raised from hatchlings to worship Slaanesh rather than Tzeentch, but their highly psychic bird-like mutant bodies still carried the potent gifts of Tzeentch, making these avian females natural and highly proficient psykers.
Around this pair of mutant psykers, nuns with babies were beginning to congregate, accompanied by Franklin who looked ashamed to see his wife Violet naked in public. The other psychic bird mutants of Clan Muhammad who had been staying were beginning to arrive now too, and with them came Violet's children Patrick and Carmen.
The stark naked Violet Sevenson was now squatting down to gaze excitedly at Hyacinth's sleeping swaddled mutant baby, going "aw" at the tiny hatchling.
"(Squawk), this is... My daughter... Sheridan, (caw caw), isn't she... Beautiful," Hyacinth said with her usual difficulty in her bird voice, as speech impaired as always by her mutations.
"She's absolutely adorable," Violet happily agreed with an adoring smile.
Every bird mutant in the room suddenly turned to glare at the nuns with looks of deeply offended disgust, their telepathy having obviously detected a thought that deeply offended them.
"(Squawk), That's a... HORRIBLE thing, (screech), To think about... My baby!", Hyacinth squawked in outrage at Mother Superior.
"I said nothing at all," Mother Superior countered truthfully enough.
"You still... THOUGHT it!," Hyacinth angrily accused.
Hyacinth's Night Lord boyfriend Jack Sevenson was currently wearing a helmet that hid his face from view, but his body language now looked filled with wrath and hateful anger, and his hands visibly tightened around his bolter, arms trembling with barely contained rage.
Hyacinth turned to look at her giant lover, and she shook her head slightly, apparently nonverbally telling him not to do anything violent.
"(Hiss), yes Mistress Hyacinth," Jack Sevenson hissed in a harsh aggressive voice, and visibly controlled his murderous rage with obvious effort.
A sense of palpable tension and hostility now hung heavily in the air, and Violet and Hyacinth composed themselves with effort, and attempted to force themselves to return to focus on the baby in the pram.
The bird mutants were almost immediately trembling with fresh offence and turning to glower at Sister Superior Clementine.
The Tzeentch worshipping Clan Muhammad bird mutants were now trying to bring peace to the situation, whispering soothing words to the pair of sisters.
The imperials by this point were not exactly popular, and Hyacinth had to once again calm down her boyfriend Jack from committing violence.
"This is a newly hatched tiny baby, control your usual bigotry at least towards this baby for pities sake!", one of the bird mutants implored the imperials.
This only seemed to make it even worse, and Hyacinth was now going slightly red with anger.
"I know what will make them stop, the only thing they hate even more than mutants," Violet said suddenly, and then for a while her blue feathered head glowed with pink energy, apparently engaged in long range telepathy.
A few minutes later the Dark Eldar woman Belzevelle approached them, blushing bright crimson.
Belzevelle was completely stark naked with her wrists handcuffed behind her back, and written on her naked stomach in black marker was the words "publicly humiliate me", written in the distinctive elegant handwriting of Wendy Sevenson!
Belzevelle walked right up to the group of people, hanging her crimson blushing face in shame, her entire body trembling with terrible embarrassment.
The effect was instant and predictable, the nuns immediately saying terrible condemnation at the Eldar woman and completely ignoring the mutants now.
"Get out of here you xenos whore!, How dare you expose yourself at us!", Mother Superior roared at Belzevelle with fiery condemnation.
"I can't!, My Mistress Wendy ORDERED me to go stand here and humiliate myself!, I don't want to be doing this!", Belzevelle hissed frantically with the most obvious humiliation.
The nuns just kept hurling abuse at Belzevelle, and she was at this point blushing dark purple with humiliation, head hung low in painful shame.
"I CANNOT disobey my Mistress Wendy, I have no choice but to do this!", Belzevelle hissed with intense humiliation at the verbal abuse.
The painfully embarrassed naked Dark Eldar just stood enduring every word hurled at her, refusing to leave, and the sisters resumed admiring Hyacinth's baby, this time completely unbothered by thoughts from the thoroughly distracted imperials.
Belzevelle the highly submissive lover of Wendy Sevenson was unharmed, if completely humiliated. The naked Dark Eldar was extremely beautiful, tall and slender like a super model, elegant face stunningly gorgeous. Her extremely long straight black hair was held out of the way by a black hairband in a tight elegant ponytail, and was silky smooth and shiny.
Belzevelle's tall naked body was completely slender and very petite, but her slender stomach did have the beginnings of a small but noticeable pregnancy bump. Her skin was a pale grey colour like almost all Dark Eldar, but this pale grey hue suited her extremely elegant body, looking sexy on her.
It was very apparent that Violet had used her telepathy to beg Wendy to send down Belzevelle as a distraction for the imperials, and the ever submissive Belzevelle was very obviously too submissive to disobey Wendy in this sadistic humiliating command.
The imperials were extremely provoked by the presence of this stark naked alien female, but they did not dare to touch her with so many bird mutant witnesses, and simply shook their fists and shouted abuse, and held back the raging Sister Superior Clementine who was trying to attack Belzevelle.
Violet and Hyacinth had a wonderful time awing at Sheridan the baby mutant in peace, and talked softly in joy.
Carmen and Patrick and the Clan Muhammad bird mutants also came over to admire the tiny baby, and there was much joy and fellowship. Even Jack the Night Lord calmed down and joined in with the fellowship, speaking fondly about his infant daughter.
Belzevelle was crying tears of humiliation by this point, but this didn't really bother anyone. Belzevelle was kinky as shit and got off on horrible and humiliating stuff like this, she would no doubt masturbate furiously over this later.
Only when everyone had had their fill of admiring the infant Sheridan Sevenson did Hyacinth then turn her attention to the babies of the distracted nuns.
The nuns distractedly allowed Hyacinth to *look* at their babies, (look but not touch), and Hyacinth happily awed at her new nieces and nephews, waving to those that were awake.
Hyacinth used a small vox device to record and photograph every single baby, and learned all the names, typing the names to the photograph files.
It was a happy and joyous time.
***...
Violet Sevenson was overjoyed as she temporarily ditched her husband Franklin to catch up with her sister Hyacinth. Violet might be completely submissive to her husband, but she still had her safe word for when she wanted a break, and saying her safe word "hajsnip" would always instantly free her from her submission to do as she pleased.
Her husband would no doubt belt her later for ditching him like this, but he had enough honour for the safe word system to give her this temporary reprieve from her usual blissful submission and agony.
Violet and Hyacinth were currently sitting canoodling together on a soft comfy sofa in the chair filled "sitting room" on this "landfill floor", with Hyacinth's tiny baby now awake and laid down across both their laps, held protectively by their hands lest the infant accidentally fall off onto the floor.
Sheridan Sevenson was cheeping softly like a baby bird, not at all distressed or unhappy, simply cheeping softly the way contented very young bird mutant infants do.
Sheridan had only hatched relatively recently, just a bit before the nuns all gave birth, and didn't really do much at this tender age, just lay there and softly cheeped, very occasionally slightly moving an arm or leg, really nothing exciting. But Violet and Hyacinth still found Sheridan extremely cute and gazed at her as though she was the most interesting thing in existence.
The thoroughly humiliated Belzevelle had now returned upstairs to her sadistic Dominatrix, and was most likely masturbating furiously over her humiliating ordeal. The nuns had dispersed back to their rooms shortly after this.
The sitting room was now currently the singular domain of the various bird mutants, with Hyacinth's boyfriend Jack being the only non-bird mutant currently present in the room.
The sitting room was currently a warren of loud birdsong, particularly from Violet's two children who were playing a game with each other to see who could make the most different types of bird songs, and everyone was joyful and happy.
Jack was maybe a little out of place, but was currently sitting on an especially robust chair nearby, and was quietly talking with some of the Clan Muhammad bird mutants in a conversation that changed topic too often to really have a central unifying theme.
Violet's daughter Carmen ran up to her yet again, and sat snuggled against Violet looking at the baby in interest.
Violet hadn't really seen her children very much since marrying Franklin, but did try to see them every day when Franklin actually let her. During the honeymoon period of the marriage Violet was content to only see her children occasionally, but she would soon put her foot down and demand to spend every day with her children.
Franklin would have to step up and be a stepfather to Carmen. Patrick on the other hand was actually older than Franklin and would not appreciate being asked to call someone younger than himself "stepfather". Violet was not sure what to do about Patrick to be honest.
Patrick was currently sitting with his relatives talking happily.
Patrick was a bit older than Franklin but still not fully an adult yet.
Patrick had exactly the same mutations as Violet, but his face bore a striking resemblance to his father "Pedo" Pete Smith, the normal human Slaanesh worshipping pedophile who had raped Violet as an adolescent child, getting her pregnant far too young from the rape.
The face of her rapist on her son bothered Violet sometimes, but not as much as might be expected. Violet had known her son for over half of her life now, and she was completely used to him.
Patrick wasn't a bad kid, and certainly wasn't anything like his father. Pedophilia did not appear to be genetic, at least not in Patrick, and he seemed disinterested in underage girls, much much more interested in the adult tickle slaves and frequently sneaking off to fuck them. This was a huge relief that he was attracted to adult women rather than minors, and had greatly soothed Violet's fears.
"Mum!, I'm not a fucking pedophile!, I was never going to be one!, Stop being so *relieved* about me not being a kiddie fiddler!", Patrick's telepathic voice suddenly protested inside her mind.
The entire room went silent, everyone except Jack being telepathic and hearing the exchange.
Violet quickly apologised and the awkwardness gradually passed, and she deliberately thought about something else.
Hyacinth patted Violet's naked back soothingly, calming her noticeably with the reassuring touch.
Violet still had absolutely no access to her clothes, all of them locked away by the nuns in their rooms, and Violet was pretty much perpetually naked since getting married.
Violet usually enjoyed her perpetual nudity, finding it sexy and exciting, but at times like now it was less enjoyable.
One of the bird mutants reading her thoughts immediately offered Violet a blue Tzeentch-symboled cardigan to wear, and Violet put it on gratefully, enjoying the feeling of being clothed with something once again.
"How long are you staying?", Violet asked Hyacinth suddenly.
"(Squawk), Not long... Very busy...", Hyacinth replied apologetically.
"Visit as often as you can, don't be a stranger," Violet pressed her sister.
"(Squawk), I will...", Hyacinth promised.
The conversation then moved on to other things.
***...
Slaaneshi Chaos Sorceress Hyacinth Sevenson was feeling happy as she hobbled out of the Night Lord rhino transport with the help of her boyfriend Jack, out into the street just in front of one of the most strategic subway entrances on the island.
Hyacinth and Jack had taken their leave of Violet and Franklin over an hour ago, leaving in the rhino temporarily requisitioned to them by the Sevenson Matriarch. The Slaaneshi Chaos Space Marines of other war bands inside the tower had shown a predatory sexual interest in Hyacinth, (and especially in her baby), as they left the tower, but Hyacinth's psychic powers had easily distracted them with a simple spell to stimulate the pleasure and pain centres of their brains, moving safely past them as they lay on the floor roaring in orgasmic pleasure. By the time the spells had finished, Hyacinth and her baby had safely entered the rhino with Jack, completely unharmed and unmolested.
Hyacinth and Jack had then ordered the crew of the rhino to take them to the now liberated waterfront palace of the Matriarch, (the Matriarch herself currently still away in Low Commorragh), and they had dropped off their precious baby daughter Sheridan to the enthusiastic care of the army of baby adoring Nanny Slaves who permanently lived in the palace.
The Matriarch's palace had always been one of the best and safest sources of convenient baby sitting and child care. The Matriarch was completely and utterly obsessed with her brood of direct descendants, and any child of her bloodline was completely protected in any of her homes. The palace had armies of nanny slaves and substantial child care resources, and was designed to mind and protect Sevenson children from harm.
The Palace had even better and more diverse power sources than Auntie Wendy's tower had had, and had never lost power like Auntie Wendy's tower had, the palace already having substantial air cooled rooftop generators during the acid attack, leaving all of the high energy defences completely operational and protecting everyone in the palace from harm.
As a blood descendant of the Matriarch, Sheridan Sevenson was completely welcome inside the palace for as long as Hyacinth liked, and completely protected from harm while inside, even on Muntilliko Island.
Having safely deposited their child, Hyacinth and Jack had then returned to the rhino and the rhino had driven them here to this highly strategic subway entrance.
This particular subway entrance was as mentioned highly strategic, located in a place where the tunnels allowed the most quick and easy access to the most vitally important underground locations to give the maximum combat mobility to win the war. Clearing and capturing this particular location could potentially win the war up to ten times faster, and the maximum military force was being applied to this location.
The ground around Hyacinth was bustling with heretics and currently piled up high with various supplies, and multitudes of lowly heretics on motorised bikes were constantly coming and going in the subway entrance ramp, fetching ammo and other supplies from the surface to take underground to the chaos space marines. Trucks containing new supplies arrived constantly, resupplying this huge makeshift supply dump.
Jack Sevenson was currently pulling a space marine bike out of the back of the rhino, the bike temporarily requisitioned for this mission to provide swift underground mobility. Jack wasn't a dedicated Chaos Space Marine Biker, but like all fully graduated tactical space marines he had been comprehensively trained how to use these bikes.
Jack mounted the bike with practiced ease, and lifted Hyacinth onto the seat just behind him, and Hyacinth clung to his back and got as comfortable as possible. This particular bike had been deliberately modified with an extended seat and had been heat insulated, so that Hyacinth could sit on the back like this without burning her legs on the exhaust pipes or being otherwise uncomfortable or in danger of falling off.
The bike activated with a soft purr, the engine deliberately heavily silenced in accordance with the heavy stealth focused tactics of the Night Lords, and made barely a sound as it moved down the subway entrance ramp.
Hyacinth held on tightly as Jack sped the bike down the tunnel, and the speed was incredible, the air blowing hard all over her as the tunnel zipped past.
It was a surprisingly long trip, as the advancing chaos space marines were pushing deep with a massive force, and had already cleared a lot of ground, and the other bikes carrying supplies were steadily splitting off the main tunnel to supply the forces protecting the flanks to keep the supply line open. This was always the way with deep pushes into enemy territory, the deeper you pushed, the more troops you needed just to hold open the flanks of the supply line. Eventually you reached a breaking point where further penetration into enemy territory was impossible, and needed to instead focus on widening your supply line to a new front line somehow or other. Then rinse and repeat.
This breaking point clearly had not quite been reached yet, but the push had still penetrated shockingly deeply into the infested subterranean hive city, and must surely be close to reaching the strategic objective points.
Almost without warning they were suddenly slowing down just behind the advancing push of Space Marine forces, and Hyacinth dismounted from the bike, collecting her short metal staff from a vertical holster on the rear of the bike, using the staff to help her walk.
The sounds of battle were deafening here, and doubly so as there were noise marines present, but a simple spell protected her ears from this appalling racket.
Hyacinth hobbled as close to the fighting as she dared, with Jack acting as her bodyguard, and she began to prepare herself to cast battle spells.
The hormagaunts and rippers were swarming endlessly towards the chaos space marines in this main tunnel that led directly to the critical location direction. The tunnel was a subway tunnel with its completely derailed trains far out of the way of this particular section. Unfortunately the tunnel had open maintenance doorways every few tens of meters that led to the rest of the surrounding hive city, and tyranids endlessly scuttled out of these, requiring every one of these doorways to be secured to protect the supply lines.
Closing these doors wasn't enough, as the genestealer cult could simply open them again or clear away any other sort of blockage, requiring troops to actually fight their way inside the areas beyond these doorways to be completely sure of protecting the supply line.
Even worse were the periodic train station platforms, exposing the entire tunnel on both sides to wide open platforms connected to very open station structures, making the flank attacks by hormagaunts and rippers absolutely awful. These platforms and the stations surrounding them had to be completely taken and held, to protect the subway tunnel that was being used for the push and subsequent supply line.
Despite these formidable challenges to maintaining logistical lines, the chaos space marines were pushing forward with surprising speed, and were so far successful in protecting the entire supply line.
Hyacinth could see and sense the souls of the vast swarms of tyranids just beyond the marines ahead, all being gunned down at a furious rate with prodigious expenditure of ammunition, and the heretic supply people were working hard to keep these marines supplied with constant fresh ammunition before the guns could run dry.
Hyacinth clutched her sorcerous staff tightly, drawing on the warp power stored within it, and squawked out the words of a spell.
Bolts of baleful energy blasted out of Hyacinth's outstretched finger tip, flying over the heads of the fighting chaos space marines and seeking out the tyranids with unerring accuracy.
The energy bolts struck the thickest part of the swarm, and tyranids exploded in sprays of boiling blood that soaked and scalded the tyranids around them.
The hormagaunts were terribly distracted by this event, slowing and disrupting their advance, and the chaos space marines took advantage of this distraction to gun down as many as possible, gaining ground faster than they otherwise would.
Hyacinth was already casting more deadly battle spells, and hormagaunts were dropping worse than ever.
The line of chaos space marines advanced relentlessly, capturing the new ground before the tyranids could recapture it, and small groups of marines entered each new maintenance doorway to clean out and hold so that the flanks and supply line was protected.
The chaos space marines lost more and more of their numbers to flank guarding duties with each new doorway captured and guarded, but the current force still numbered hundreds of marines from various Slaanesh worshipping war bands.
The line was soon so far ahead that Jack lifted the slow Hyacinth back onto the bike, and rode to catch up.
Hyacinth stayed on the bike from then on, relentlessly blasting tyranids apart as Jack kept pace just behind the front line.
The pace was absolutely brutal, as fast as only Slaanesh forces could be, and they were soon at another subway station platform.
The line was slowed considerably at the platforms, as they were forced to focus fire to the flanks even more than the front, and the entire force split up into several groups to clear and secure enough of the station to keep the flanks protected.
Hyacinth was left hanging back in the rear, but continued casting long range battle spells where she could.
The slaughter of tyranids in the station was terrible, and in so short a time that it shocked even Hyacinth, the station was deemed secure enough that the flanks were protected.
Some 200 chaos space marines stayed to hold the station, and the few hundred remaining marines continued on down the subway tunnel towards the objective.
Hyacinth was starting to get worried now, they would run out of troops before too much longer at this rate...
The line just continued advancing, and less than an hour later as feared the front line force was down to a mere one hundred marines from various war bands.
The attack force had little choice but to stop at this point, and Hyacinth desperately used her long range telepathic powers to request more troops to continue the advance.
For an entire hour and a half they simply waited, accumulating a huge surplus of supplies from the heretics on bikes in the process.
After this some of the earlier flank guarding forces started to arrive, as heretic militia forces started garrisoning the flank guarding positions to free up the more valuable chaos space marines to continue the advance.
The advance continued, and was steadily joined by yet more chaos space marines as huge armies of heretic militia fighters took over guarding the entire flanks of the supply line.
The force had thousands of chaos space marines now, with endless marches of normal human heretic militia just behind them to hold every flank, with supply bikes moving constantly through deliberate gaps in the marching forces.
The advance was so fast now that it was incredible, and the critical location was right ahead now.
"STOP!", Hyacinth suddenly screamed at the last second, only just warning the forces in time.
The entire force stopped dead, looking at the psyker accompanying them.
"(Squawk), It's a TRAP!", Hyacinth warned, the space marines had only just stopped in time to avoid springing the trap.
The forces had enough sense to heed the warning of a psyker, and at wild gesticulations from Hyacinth the entire force backed up down the tunnel a few tens of meters, moving further away from the objective location.
"(Squawk), Nurgle trap... Only just... (Squawk), Detected in time. (Screech), Lethal psychic... Trap... (Squawk Squawk), Must disarm first... Very dangerous!", Hyacinth warned everyone.
The tyranids were still coming endlessly from the objective area, but the deadly occult trap was carefully calibrated to not be tripped by any tyranids. If any non-tyranid entered the area up ahead then the entire air of the space would fill with the horrific fumes from the very Garden of Nurgle itself, fumes that contained nearly every disease and contagion in existence!
Hyacinth's heart was pounding, her psychic powers had only just detected the hidden trap in time!
Fucking terrifying!
Hyacinth controlled her racing heart and desire to shit herself with effort, and carefully examined the trap from afar with her psychic powers.
Hyacinth frowned as she examined the hostile spell craft. This was clearly the work of a Genestealer Magus, the most powerful type of genestealer psyker, and this spell craft was devastatingly powerful.
"(Squawk), I can't... Break it!, (Squawk), Needs my... Mother TigerLily...", Hyacinth told her comrades miserably, deeply apologetic.
If Hyacinth herself tried to dispel and disarm this occult trap, she would almost certainly fail and accidentally set it off, killing them all.
Only her mother TigerLily could safely disarm something like this, it was simply too complex and too powerful for most mortal psykers to handle.
Until TigerLily came the force could not capture this critical location.
These genestealers were FUCKING smart and cunning. The sneaky creatures had very nearly wiped out thousands of chaos space marines with a trap so well hidden that even a psyker had only just detected it in time!
Hyacinth felt a terrible new respect for the terrible cunning and intelligence of these genestealers, they had perfectly figured out exactly what point the Slaanesh forces would try to capture, and had set a terrible trap for them.
Had they succeeded then the space marine forces would have been decimated, wiping out most of the Sevenson Night Lords and huge numbers of allied chaos space marines as well. It would have crippled the elite military power of the Matriarch, destroying morale and possibly costing not only the island but possibly even the foothold in Low Commorragh itself!
Hyacinth's blood ran cold, these genestealers had today come SO close to destroying them all!
By Slaanesh this was frightening!
***...