Chapter 135(Orphan) draft 1
(Author's note, I saw the guest reviews and I accept the constructive criticism. I agree that Franklin could do with some more character development. I will try to correct this problem).
(Things are still a mess in Australia at the moment, yet more covid and lockdowns and that whole thing with anti covid protestors punching police horses. What a time to be alive.)
The huge training centre floor of Wendy's building rang out with gunfire and the clash of close combat sparring, as Franklin Sevenson viciously tried to defeat Wendy's unholy xenos lesbian lover Belzevelle in a sword fight with harmless training blades in a fighting cage.
"And you're dead again", Belzevelle purred in her lyrical playful voice as her soft harmless training blade gracefully slid across his throat with blurring speed.
Franklin growled and batted her blade away, walking back a few steps and taking up a fighting pose with his blade raised to begin a new sparring match against the grey skinned alien woman.
The pair of them stood inside a relatively well lit training cage, each holding a soft harmless sword. They were both dressed for combat, Franklin wearing his Night Lord scout uniform complete with carapace armour, Belzevelle wearing her shameless skin-tight xenos technology body glove in the pitch black colour of her "Kabal" the "Ebony Stiletto". Belzevelle's head was bare, her long straight black hair held out of the way in a single extremely long ponytail at the back of her head, and her poise was extremely graceful and bendy with extreme flexibility.
Belzevelle's face was flawlessly smooth and tight without the slightest hint of wrinkle or blemish, young and stunningly beautiful and elegant. She had long pointed ears and dark intelligent eyes, her face looked slightly arrogant but also somewhat humble from "submitting" to Franklin's mother and breaking some of her earlier pride. Her entire demeanour was distinctly pleasure jaded but energetic, joyful even, she was obviously happy to be here.
The lithe slender alien smiled at Franklin, and then moved with such blurring speed that Franklin barely blocked her sword in time!
The first blow was just finished being blocked when Belzevelle's sword flowed around Franklin's blade like extremely fast water, and Franklin couldn't bring his sword back in front of Belzevelle's sword fast enough before she once again caressed his neck with her harmless soft blade!
"And you are dead", Belzevelle purred happily with a beaming smile.
"By the Emperor!", Franklin cursed.
"I'm happy to give you advice on your fighting style my son", Belzevelle offered happily.
"I TOLD you not to call me SON!", Franklin snarled at her.
"But you *are* my son, your Mother and I are quite the item, making her son my son", Belzevelle replied playfully.
"I will cut your head off xenos filth!", Franklin spat.
"Not with your current swordsmanship you won't", Belzevelle cut back instantly with razor sharp wit.
Franklin tried to strike her with his sword, but she flowed around his swings like air with extreme speed and flexibility.
Franklin threw aside his sword and grabbed at her with his arms in wide sweeps difficult to evade.
Belzevelle's soft blade struck his neck again and again, causing no damage, and Franklin managed to get hold of one of her pinky fingers in her blur of motion, holding it tightly.
Belzevelle cried out in alarm and tried to free her finger, but Franklin's space marine strength was far beyond her, no matter how fast she was, and she couldn't free her finger.
Franklin grinned in vindictive triumph and twisted her finger cruelly.
Belzevelle cried out in pain and begged for mercy, her face afraid.
Franklin twisted even more cruelly, threatening to break the finger.
Belzevelle moved with blurring speed to kick him between the gaps of his armour at agonising pressure points Franklin didn't know he possessed, and Franklin moaned in pleasure from the agony, completely unfazed by any pain.
Belzevelle got even more dismayed by Franklin's lack of fear of pain and begged frantically for mercy.
"Your Mother will punish your nuns if you injure me!", Belzevelle exclaimed in frightened threat.
Franklin paused in his rage at this horrible threat, and grabbed Belzevelle by the upper arm, letting go of her finger.
He then bent to collect his training sword, still holding her upper arm firmly, and holding her tightly by the arm so she couldn't evade his blows, he swotted her neck hundreds of times with his soft blade, saying "you're dead" after every single swot.
"Yes yes, very amusing, but it won't be this easy in battle against an actual foe trying to kill you", Belzevelle remarked.
"Strength trumps speed", Franklin laughed at her.
"An ork on foot with a club is easily gunned down by fast splinter rifle shots, no matter how strong that ork is. The dark eldar feed on orkoid pain the most, even more than on human pain. Strength means nothing if it is too slow to land a single strike", Belzevelle replied as though repeating an often shared cliche or parable.
"I am no ork, xenos", Franklin spat, pushing Belzevelle away and letting go of her arm.
"Indeed you are no ork, but you might as well be if you do not heed free fighting advice from a kabalite true born Dracon", Belzevelle retorted, as though he should be impressed by this.
"A what?", Franklin asked just to be contrarian, despite knowing full well what she was talking about.
"I am a Dracon in my kabal thanks to the influence of your mother raising my status, before I met Mistress Wendy I was but a true born warrior, now I am a Dracon, a high ranking officer I suppose you might say", Belzevelle replied proudly, placing especially respectful tones on the mention of Wendy.
Franklin recoiled in disgust at this alien referring to his Mother as "Mistress" in the unholy bondage sense of the word, barely acknowledging the other words she had said.
"Your mother fucks me, I suggest you get over it", Belzevelle challenged him immediately!
Franklin growled.
"Growling about it won't achieve anything. I love your Mother, she loves me. I wear on my finger a ring of relationship commitment that your Mother gave me, Mistress Wendy is like my wife in every respect. I am not leaving Mistress Wendy and am not going anywhere", Belzevelle stated stubbornly.
Franklin spluttered in rage at this, but Belzevelle simply ignored his vocalisations, taking up a relaxed fighting posture with her soft training sword.
"Speed is all in war, speed is better than strength, better than armour, better than toughness. As long as you have speed, (and the accuracy and stamina and wisdom to deploy that speed properly), you will win every battle", Belzevelle lectured, as though this was some hallowed mantra of wisdom.
Franklin suddenly lunged at her with his sword, she bent like rubber with extreme flexibility to dodge his attack easily, and in one blisteringly fast motion her blade touched his throat again.
"Speed", Belzevelle said happily.
Franklin tried again, but the alien was impossibly fast and agile and flexible, easily hitting his neck before he could even land a blow.
Franklin tried again and again to hit the damn alien, but she was too fast.
"This is frustrating and pointless, I would just shoot you in battle", Franklin dismissed.
"It's only pointless if you continue to defy my advice, I can train you to counter my speed", Belzevelle offered.
"Why would you teach me how to defeat you?", Franklin asked suspiciously.
"Because you are my stepson, a mother teaches her child", Belzevelle explained immediately.
"You are not my mother, step or otherwise!", Franklin snapped.
Belzevelle flushed with anger at his words, but she composed herself immediately.
"Mistress Wendy is important to me, Adolf is important to me, Octavia is important to me. These three I love as much as life itself. For the sake of my spouses I put up with you, but I CERTAINLY don't like you", Belzevelle said icily.
"The feeling is mutual xenos", Franklin jeered.
"Is racism all that you have?, Hardly a personal insult", Belzevelle replied.
"It's not an insult it's a fact", Franklin said, trying to offend her just for the sake of it.
"I know it's a fact that I am an Eldar, your attempts at snark are pathetic", Belzevelle sighed calmly.
Franklin was about to argue even more when he was suddenly interrupted by Belzevelle striking his neck with her sword again.
Franklin swung back at her in a vicious backhand, but she dodged him easily.
"This quarrelling is pointless, we live together, we need to find some civility", Belzevelle said with obvious effort when Franklin stopped trying to hit her.
"I don't trust you", Franklin said immediately with complete honesty.
"I am consensually enslaved to Mistress Wendy for at least the next 300 years, I am completely obedient to my Dominatrix soulmate in all things, what do you think I am even capable of doing that you distrust?", Belzevelle asked him with unpleasant amounts of logic.
"Soulmate?", Franklin spat.
"Must you fixate on words?, Yes I firmly believe that Mistress Wendy is my soulmate, she is my wife, my everything", Belzevelle defended passionately.
"My mother is NOT your wife…", Franklin began to exclaim.
Belzevelle cut him off with a loud groan of exasperation.
"Yes Mistress Wendy is forbidden from legally having more than one wife at the same time under Sevenson law, but as far as the Matriarch and the rest of the family is concerned I am an honorary wife of Mistress Wendy", Belzevelle explained patiently.
"You haven't even changed your last name, even if such an unholy "marriage" was possible in the Emperor's sight, you are not serious about my mother", Franklin accused with surprising emotion, apparently extremely protective of his sinful mother on some deeper level.
"Actually I have. I never had a last name to begin with, dark eldar are not really big on last names. I got my name changed on paper to Belzevelle Sevenson as an acknowledgment that I consider Mistress Wendy to be my wife", Belzevelle corrected.
Franklin actually paused at this admission, some deep part of himself apparently deeply caring about this detail.
"I am completely loyal and submissive to your Mother, she is my everything. I will never betray her", Belzevelle reassured Franklin adamantly.
"You are not trying to hurt my Mother?", Franklin asked despite himself, the strange hidden part of himself revealing itself.
"Not even slightly, I worship her, I would die for her. I am fully committed to her for life", Belzevelle promised wonderfully.
The hidden part of Franklin drank in these wonderful words in rapture, Franklin was astonished by how deeply he actually cared.
"I see that you care about your Mother very deeply. I care about her very deeply as well, you have nothing to fear", Belzevelle promised in her wonderful Eldar voice.
Franklin nodded, a strange lump in his throat, he felt somehow vulnerable and exposed, like his chest was swung open revealing the fragility within.
"I have no power, I have given my power completely to your Mother, I am completely dominated by her, just as you are dominated by your nuns. I have never disobeyed my Mistress Wendy and have rarely said my safe word, I surrender completely to her as we explore extreme sensation together", Belzevelle explained with a smile of obvious bliss at her own words.
Franklin was disgusted by these words, but he also had an erection now!
"I apologise for giving you a swelling, I assure you that I have no fleshy interest in you", Belzevelle apologised immediately, calming Franklin's rage before it could grow.
"Shall you now listen to my words on the subject of swordsmanship?", Belzevelle suddenly changed the subject.
Franklin paused, his inner self feeling slightly more trust towards her now, and gave a small nod for her to speak.
Belzevelle smiled, neatening her long straight ponytail, and held her blade in front of her, not to attack but to demonstrate.
"I have killed foes beyond counting with my sword, Orks, space marines, kroot, humans, wild beasts of all varieties. None of these foes have so much as wounded me in any noticeable way", Belzevelle began.
Franklin grimaced at the mention of space marines and humans, but let her continue.
"In battle I wear only this thin skintight body glove, without any other armour, no plates no shoulder pads, just this flexible lightweight body glove. If I ever got hit by any weapon of any moderate power I would be finished, but after constant wars since my adolescent years I have yet to be hit by anything".
"I am FAST, so fast that speed itself is my armour, I am too fast and agile to hit, my senses and reaction time are so sharp that I can see weapons being aimed at me and weave out of the way just before they fire, letting me dodge even lasers. Speed is far better than power armour if you are fast enough".
"You are not as fast as me, you never will be by any "natural" method, but you can still be a lot faster than you currently are. With training you will be able to at least put up some defence against me",
"How do I defeat you in a sword fight?", Franklin interrupted.
"You can't, not one on one at least. I am simply too fast. At best you might rely on pure luck that I make some fluke mistake. But in a war with many individuals all fighting together it becomes more possible to defeat me", Belzevelle said calmly, apparently not trying to be arrogant.
"And yet you fear me", Franklin noted, remembering the times Belzevelle had been terrified of him.
"I was unarmed all of those times and besides I am forbidden from killing you, that changes things substantially", Belzevelle explained.
"You are forbidden from killing me?", Franklin repeated her words.
"Mistress Wendy would not be happy if I killed her son", Belzevelle laughed happily.
"Would you kill my Mother if she fought you over such an outcome!?", Franklin asked suspiciously.
"I would throw down my weapon and let Mistress Wendy kill me if she wished to do so, I would die for her pleasure", Belzevelle replied seriously.
"You would just let her kill you?", Franklin asked in surprise.
"Of course I would, I already submit to her completely as she binds me helpless and tortures me every single day, she tormented me terribly just this morning and I did not resist her, my body is her's to do with as she wishes", Belzevelle promised him.
"Why, why would you do that?", Franklin asked.
"I am just that way inclined by my nature, this is heaven to me", Belzevelle said simply.
"That's crazy, it makes no sense", Franklin insisted, unsure why he was being so stubborn.
"This is not even unusual for Dark Eldar, many Dark Eldar reach a certain age where they are just crushed by boredom at the futility of their lives and seek a life of pain and submission. We call them "Wracks", they seek out the haemonculi pain masters and willingly become their torture slaves to enjoy new pleasures. The relationship between a haemonculus and a wrack is frequently deeply sexual and in some cases even genuinely intimate, the haemonculus more often than not fucks their wracks regularly. I am the wrack of Mistress Wendy in a very real sense", Belzevelle explained.
Franklin was utterly disgusted and exclaimed in revulsion.
"My point is that Dark Eldar are prone to seek to be dominated by a skilled inflicter of suffering, it is in our nature. Had I not met Mistress Wendy then I would have eventually become a wrack to the haemonculi, Mistress Wendy is my haemonculus and I am her wrack, it's a common type of sexual relationship to my kind", Belzevelle pressed.
"And wracks are loyal to their haemonculi?", Franklin asked despite himself.
"Completely loyal, fanatically loyal. Wracks worship their haemonculi owners, it is a despicable wrack indeed that would ever be disloyal", Belzevelle reassured him.
"So this isn't some alien trickery, you actually care about my Mother?", Franklin asked.
"I absolutely genuinely care about Mistress Wendy with all of my being", Belzevelle promised him.
Franklin rose his sword.
"Teach me to be fast", Franklin said, his way of accepting Belzevelle on some deep level.
Belzevelle smiled.
***…
Franklin was deep in thought as he cradled his "egg" in his arms in an attempt to make Violet happier with him, thinking about various things.
He was sitting naked on the floor of his room, next to the armoured incubator the egg lived in, as the equally naked Violet did chores. Franklin had a long whip on the floor beside him to motivate Violet in her chores, but he barely used it, Violet was being well behaved today.
Franklin was surprised to feel so little disgust as he gazed into the mottled grey surface of the egg, at first the egg had revolted him, but as the days continued and the egg did nothing new at all, it quickly became a familiar object and the disgust faded away.
The egg was extremely well cleaned by Violet and didn't smell at all, it was dry and not at all slimy or oily or gross, just perfectly clean and hygienic. It might as well be an extremely clean rock, he felt nothing negative as he held it now.
Franklin gazed into the mottled surface of his egg, and contemplated what Belzevelle had revealed to him earlier.
Belzevelle had opened up some deep part of Franklin that made him feel very uncomfortable, a hidden part of himself that didn't care about sexual values but was deeply protective of his heretical family.
Belzevelle's sexual depravity with his Mother should have been his focus, but instead he had found himself caring far more about the genuineness of Belzevelle's depraved *relationship* with his Mother, as though this was somehow even an important issue at all!
A deep part of Franklin seemed to accept that his Mother was a sexually depraved homosexual, and simply wanted to protect his mother from being taken advantage of, rather than protecting her from her sexual sin. The thought of this was horrifying, it reeked of sinful tolerance.
Even worse, this strange deep part of Franklin seemed to have gained some respect for Belzevelle today, accepting her as a "wife" to his mother. Belzevelle claiming that she would die for Wendy had especially moved this deep part of him.
Belzevelle certainly had the evidence of her seriousness on full display. Months of being openly tortured by Wendy with excessive cruelty, but never once arguing or resisting or trying to escape. Belzevelle had never so much as paused in obeying Wendy's every sadistic command, no matter how humiliating or how much it made Belzevelle cry.
The talk of Dark Eldar "wracks" had made a disturbing amount of sense. Franklin had studied the enemies of man so that he could defeat them, and knew a basic overview of the various elements of Dark Eldar society. Wracks were horribly mutilated masochistic things that served the despicable haemonculi. Belzevelle claimed to be a wrack for Franklin's Mother, and she certainly acted the part.
The deep part of Franklin was actually *reassured* by all this!
Violet interrupted his thoughts by kneeling down beside him with her hands obediently on her head, her chores apparently all finished.
Franklin turned his face to regard his submissive wife, she was perfectly clean, well groomed, and amazingly desirable, her naked body held submissively still for him to touch any way he wished.
Franklin briefly felt her breasts in greeting, not giving her permission to take her hands off her head, and returned both arms to cradling their egg.
"It's nice to see you spending time with her, Master", Violet said approvingly, still holding her submissive pose.
Franklin nodded, and was inwardly happy that this was working to placate Violet. Happy wife happy life.
"I appreciate the lengths you are going to to make me happy Master, it makes me feel special and loved", Violet said tenderly.
"You are… You are loved", Franklin admitted hesitantly.
Violet smiled romantically, her body language even more sexually receptive than usual.
Franklin put their egg back in the incubator, turning his attention to his wife.
"This body is your's Master", Violet said in a slutty type of tenderness.
Franklin leaned forward and kissed her immediately.
The relationship with his wife was getting better now, and their love making was getting back to normal. Violet was back to being a wonder of sexual delights, and rarely yelled at him now.
Franklin lay the submissive heretic woman down on the floor with her hands still submissively on her head, and penetrated her without any foreplay, enjoying the benefits of having a wife. A wife was the escape of all sexual sin, it wasn't sinful when it was your wife.
Violet the Slaanesh worshipper was as sexually insatiable as ever, and made very loud sex noises as she was penetrated, moaning and gasping in extreme pleasure.
Franklin rolled over out of fear of crushing her under his weight, and she energetically bounced with her hands still on her head, perfectly submissive, her face contorted with extreme pleasure.
Franklin rested his hands behind his head and let his submissive wife do all the work as he relaxed. Franklin could orgasm endlessly as a space marine, and enjoyed having sex until Violet was too physically exhausted to go on.
Violet obediently bounced, giving him intense pleasure inside her soft wet slippery bits, and Franklin grunted in his first orgasm, his desire not even slowed down when his marriage fluid could replenish so quickly.
Franklin's mind wandered as his wife pleasured him so wonderfully, his thoughts returning to Belzevelle.
Belzevelle had certainly managed to establish herself in Wendy's little harem of lovers, forming close bonds with all of them. Adolf was forever kissing Belzevelle with extreme affection, and the xenos seemed to greatly enjoy this affection, seemingly completely infatuated with Adolf. The nymphomaniac Octavia was even more frequently engaged in the most public of extremely affectionate acts with Belzevelle, even having sex in public, and the pair were forever publicly tickling each other. Belzevelle seemed to be in a deeply sexual relationship with Octavia, and even seemed to have a friendship with the woman.
Belzevelle rarely left the building, even before the Tyranid war, and never seemed to go anywhere without the permission and supervision of Wendy. Belzevelle was apparently a "Dracon" in the kabal of the Ebony Stiletto, but she was obviously not deeply involved in her Kabal anymore, acting only as an agent of Wendy when Belzevelle had any official business with the Kabal at all.
For all intents and purposes Belzevelle seemed to have cast herself completely into the service and servitude of Wendy, she was never out of Wendy's supervision, never went off to somewhere secret. The psykers all seemed to think that Belzevelle had no hidden agenda, maybe they were right.
Franklin turned his attention to his psyker wife energetically bouncing on his pelvis. Violet met his gaze but didn't stop having sex.
Franklin tried to think how he would ask Violet about Belzevelle's true mind and motives…
"Belzevelle's a wrack, Master, through and through", Violet said suddenly, apparently reading his mind with telepathy.
Franklin tickled Violet immediately for one minute in punishment for using telepathy, causing squealing laughter and Violet struggling to keep her hands on her head, and then focused on her seriously as soon as he stopped.
"She has no hidden motives?", Franklin asked seriously.
"None at all Master, she is completely upfront about her desires and motives, she desires the extreme pleasure and romantic intimacy of her relationship with Mummy Wendy and Mummy Octavia and Daddy Adolf, that's her entire desire and goal in life", Violet promised, still bouncing.
"She has nothing else in life to strive for?", Franklin asked in slight disbelief.
"It's an Eldar thing Master, it is their nature to throw themselves into an obsession with pleasure and suffering and domination, this inbuilt nature of the Eldar is how Slaanesh was born in the first place. This is why the craftworld Eldar have to dedicate their lives to "paths" like a bunch of monks, so that they don't become kinky and addicted to sensation and get their souls sucked out by Slaanesh", Violet explained.
Franklin shuddered.
"Many Dark Eldar who live long enough will become so consumed with sadomasochistic desire that they become wracks, and dedicate their entire lives to the extremes of sensation. Some very few wracks then go even further to become haemonculi if they have the ability and they can't meet their extreme needs just being a wrack. This is just a thing that Dark Eldar do", Violet said seriously.
"But why did Belzevelle choose my Mother rather than one of her own dark eldar haemonculi?", Franklin asked distastefully.
"A Slaanesh Champion is an acceptable substitute for a haemonculus, it's rare but hardly unheard of for dark eldar wracks to choose Slaanesh Champions for their sensation Masters", Violet informed him.
"But wracks get mutilated and suffer the most terrible agony, Belzevelle is unharmed", Franklin noted.
"Master, Belzevelle gets tickled half insane for long hours every day as her main type of torture, this torment leaves no mark on the skin. Mummy Wendy certainly does inflict extreme pain on Belzevelle as well, sometimes using her daemon whip Torment, the torture simply leaves no lasting mark on the skin", Violet replied submissively.
"But no mutilation", Franklin pressed.
"It's Mummy Wendy's decision if she will mutilate Belzevelle or not, Belzevelle certainly wouldn't resist or complain if Mummy Wendy decided to mutilate her. Wracks seek extreme sensation, not mutilation specifically. Belzevelle's daily life of sensation is already very extreme for her, her senses are so sharp that she feels much more keenly than you or I", Violet explained.
"But even weak Adolf endures everything Belzevelle endures without complaint, Belzevelle is not so strong or extreme", Franklin pointed out.
"Adolf actually is pretty tough Master, Mummy Wendy has trained him very well to endure torture. Adolf's life is filled with extreme suffering, don't underestimate the power of love to endure torture." Violet disagreed.
"Really?", Franklin asked in genuine surprise.
"Those sadistic women completely torture him every single day, torture him so hard that he pukes and shits himself, he is in tears every day", Violet informed Franklin.
Franklin was surprised by this and slightly disturbed.
"That alien Belzevelle must be cruel indeed to poor Adolf", Franklin said bitterly.
"Actually she doesn't touch him in a torturous way except in the bath and other very specific times and places, it is Mummy Octavia and Mummy Wendy who torture him Master", Violet humbly corrected him.
Franklin looked at his gently bouncing wife in amazement, pausing to ejaculate inside her with a grunt of pleasure.
"Belzevelle is extremely gentle to Adolf, she makes tender love to him but doesn't hurt him…" Violet began.
Franklin exclaimed in disgust that Adolf lay in sin with a xenos.
"They all have sex with each other Master, it is a group marriage", Violet gently reminded him.
Franklin nodded distastefully.
"Well, all of them are tortured with extreme sensation every day by each other, mostly tickling and sexual pleasure, but also pain and humiliation and other types of suffering. Mummy Wendy and Mummy Octavia thrive in this torture, but Adolf and Belzevelle have more difficulties and support each other in enduring their lives of torture. It's actually really sweet in a way", Violet added.
The hidden part of Franklin was deeply pleased by these words about Belzevelle helping poor Adolf cope with his life of torture, gaining even more respect for her.
"Belzevelle is actually pretty good natured for a Dark Eldar wrack, she just wants to indulge her sexual desires with her lovers and enjoy deep romantic intimacy in the process. I have no problems with her, Master", Violet opined.
"She is actually… Worthy, of my Mother?", Franklin asked hesitantly, surprised by himself yet again for caring.
"I think so Master, Belzevelle is utterly committed to Mummy Wendy", Violet offered.
"I honestly need to learn more about Belzevelle, I want to know her daily acts. The thought of her around my brother Heinrich disgusts me", Franklin told his bouncing wife honestly.
"Belzevelle adores that baby, Master, she is actually a much better mother than Octavia. Belzevelle puts in the most hard work to care for that baby, she views Heinrich as her own son and plans to raise him like her own", Violet replied calmly in her usual submission.
Franklin felt a stab of righteous disgust, but the hidden part of Franklin seemed to actually approve of Violet's words. Franklin felt like he was two people at the same time.
Violet just kept bouncing with her hands on her head, making sex noises, and Franklin was silent for a time, his thoughts dark and brooding.
Franklin was getting far too tolerant for his liking. He tolerated Violet, he tolerated his Mother, he tolerated his egg, and now he feared he was growing to tolerate a xenos as well!
Franklin should do something, but he wasn't sure what. What was happening to him?
The mutant heretic psyker Violet was bouncing her jiggly big breasted body energetically on top of him, his erect penis deep inside her wet marriage hole. This was wrong, he was one flesh with unwholesome flesh, his very loins were coupled with a creature of chaos!
Franklin then remembered that he was a creature of chaos himself by birth, a depraved masochistic creature of Slaanesh, a Sevenson without a single drop of pure blood!
His chaos body lay in flesh with a chaos wife, and had produced a chaos offspring, his polluted flesh yearned for Violet's polluted flesh.
"You are a living saint, Master", Violet's voice broke through his existential horror like the voice of an angel, pulling him back from his mad despair.
Violet had slowed her bouncing, but not completely stopped, and looked at him with fierce concern and love.
"You are my husband, Master, you are allowed to have sex with your own wife. You are brave, you are serious, you are committed. You give me so much pleasure and sensation, you go to pains to make me happy. I absolutely love you so much that it hurts", Violet pronounced passionately with emotion.
"Stop being so horrible to yourself all the time, Master, the Emperor himself has deemed you worthy of sainthood, how can you possibly condemn yourself?", Violet implored him.
Franklin was deeply moved by these words, snapping him out of his black depression and despair.
"Master, I am not trying to damn you, I am not trying to change your religion. I am just your WIFE, your wife who loves you", Violet continued tenderly.
"No man has ever been accused of adultery for having too much sex with his own wife, there is no maximum to how much sex we can have, even the nuns don't condemn you for having a lot of sex with me", Violet reassured the silent Franklin.
"No maximum amount of sex?", Franklin asked hopefully.
"No maximum amount of sex Master", Violet promised him.
"You used telepathy before", Franklin suddenly remembered.
"You may punish me Master", Violet replied happily.
Two minutes of squealing laughter later and Violet was fully punished, Franklin still inside her as she bounced.
"You are not doing anything wrong Master, I certainly have no complaints about what you do to me. I love you so much Master", Violet promised him.
"I love you too wife", Franklin admitted with a sigh, it was true, he did love his strange wife very much.
"I feel so conflicted and confused Violet, none of this is anything like the orphanage. To care about heretics, to consider tolerating xenos, it all feels so wrong", Franklin admitted to his wife.
"You have outgrown the orphanage, Master, you are in a big confusing universe now and you are growing as a person into something larger than you were before. You are not weak, you are strong", Violet said tenderly.
"I am strong?, I don't feel strong", Franklin mused.
Violet leaned over and tried to kiss him, but he was now so much larger than the woman that she couldn't reach his mouth with his loins inside her.
Franklin bent forward so that they could kiss briefly, and Violet returned to her bouncing after this brief act of affection.
Franklin felt a bit better now, but Violet kept tenderly praising him and making him feel good about himself, she really was a wonderful wife.
The lovemaking sped up, and Franklin used his hips to help penetrate Violet more forcefully, enjoying endless multiple orgasms inside his submissive wife.
Violet was eventually sexed to exhaustion, and dropped down on his chest to sleep, his penis still inside her. Franklin was used to his Slaanesh worshipping wife passing out during sex and falling asleep on top of him, and he used his hands to hold her limp body in place to finish his last orgasm, grunting in contented ecstasy as he inseminated Violet the final time for the night.
Franklin let Violet sleep on top of him with his penis inside her, she frequently slept like this on top of him. It felt strangely wonderful to just rest inside his wife as he drifted off to sleep himself, sometimes in the morning he would still be inside her, other times he seemed to fall out of her during the night. Either way, he would penetrate Violet with sex again in the morning before they got up, they both enjoyed very frequent sex.
Franklin drifted off peacefully with his wife softly sleeping on top of him, she was tiny in comparison to him now and wasn't heavy on his front. Franklin had peaceful dreams, and slept the entire night undisturbed.
***…
Belzevelle felt completely pleasure blasted as usual as she lay submissively snuggled naked against the leather clad Mistress Wendy in bed that night, witless from extreme pleasure and sensation.
Belzevelle had climaxed so powerfully that she had wept and sobbed, the pleasure so extreme that it was agony. Belzevelle had been tortured so much that she had moaned in pleasure, the pain becoming pleasure. She had also been tickled to near insanity, but even this had been paradoxically pleasurable to her.
Belzevelle had been forced to endure sensations to her near breaking point, satisfying her inner hunger for sensation, and she lay completely satisfied, buzzing in an intense afterglow of pleasure, her brain stupefied and witless.
The leather clad body of Mistress Wendy rose and fell under Belzevelle's arm and chest and head where they draped over the Dominatrix, Mistress Wendy breathing rhythmically in sleep or near sleep.
Belzevelle was naked but unbound, her limbs kept free to attend to the baby if it cried in the night. The baby lay asleep on the bed next to Belzevelle, just far enough away to be untouched by the lovemaking.
Octavia lay draped over the other side of Mistress Wendy, also naked and unbound, also lovingly snuggled against her dominatrix wife. Mistress Wendy herself seemed to be very comfortable sandwiched between the two sexually satisfied naked women.
Adolf wasn't as cuddly a sleeper, and lay naked on the other side of Octavia, desiring space to sleep. The women didn't mind, three people was enough for a lovely nice snuggle.
Belzevelle's pleasure blasted mind gradually recovered itself, intelligence and understanding returning to her brain, but she had no desire to leave her glorious snuggle with her beloved Mistress Wendy.
Belzevelle sighed in contentment against the warm leather and soft female skin, feeling complete in her glorious submission.
Mistress Wendy and Octavia both appeared to be already asleep, and Belzevelle could easily join them in sleep, but she fought her sleep for the moment, just enjoying her perfect contentment and comfort.
Belzevelle didn't like sleeping, the craftworld Eldar warlocks pestered her incessantly in her dreams, not letting her mind truly rest, it was boring. Belzevelle had certainly tried to humour the wishes of the warlock dream pests, but she hadn't been quite as successful as anyone had hoped, foiled in her every intrigue and scheme by the chaos gods. The warlocks weren't happy about this and they were incredibly annoying in Belzevelle's dreams as a result.
Belzevelle sighed, why couldn't people just leave her alone in peace?
Low Commorragh was a mess as always, the tyranid war had slowed things down a little bit by drawing so many elite chaos troops out of Low Commorragh, but the Dark Eldar loyal to Vect had still not been able to recapture much ground during this distraction. The non-elite lesser Slaanesh forces had proved surprisingly effective at blunting every attack, losing ground only slowly, buying the elite Slaanesh forces on Dark Tropic time to complete their mission against the tyranids properly.
It was only a matter of days now before the elite chaos forces began slowly trickling back into Low Commorragh, the tyranid war was rapidly dying down to just methodical pest control, the chaos space marines had opened up so many strategic tunnels deep into tyranid territory that non-elite troops could win the war now, it would just take time and effort.
Once the chaos space marines and other elite chaos forces returned to Low Commorragh, the tide of the war would quickly return to the Slaanesh forces capturing new ground again. The craftworld Eldar warlocks were very unhappy about this and were a huge pain in Belzevelle's ass about it.
Belzevelle sighed, she just wanted to sleep in peace.
Belzevelle snuggled closer to Mistress Wendy, a thin lightweight red sheet covering all their legs but not their bodies. The air conditioning still lacked sufficient power to do more than very slightly cool the huge room and freshen the air a bit, and the balmy tropical local temperature made it too hot for bedsheets whilst snuggling. Some electric fans helped a bit by blowing air on them to evaporate their sweat, but the air was still quite warm.
Mistress Wendy was lovely to snuggle against, her huge breasts were very soft and spongy like pillows, and the rest of her skin was also very soft. She was a slender and very slightly short woman, maybe an inch or two shorter than the average height of a human woman, just a tiny little thing really, but her attitude was so dominant that she seemed to tower over others like a giant, it was quite strange just how small Mistress Wendy actually was (not counting her giant breasts).
This tiny little slender woman had no signs of being fat at all, but she nevertheless seemed to have an extremely thin layer of extremely soft fat just under her flawless skin, making every part of her body deliciously soft to the touch with perfect femininity. Snuggling against this soft skin felt incredibly comfortable, cushioning Belzevelle exquisitely.
Belzevelle pressed herself harder into this soft skin and the thin leather that covered some of it, deliberately enjoying the lovely softness of her beloved Dominatrix, it was so lovely.
Mistress Wendy moaned softly, eyes still closed, and wrapped a dominant arm softly but firmly around Belzevelle's naked submissive body in a wonderful cuddle.
Belzevelle became utterly submissive at this touch, almost paralysed by her deep desire to submit to this wonderful woman, and Belzevelle felt very small and very safe in this soft firm embrace.
Mistress Wendy's fingertips traced over Belzevelle's ribs and sides, tickling her but not quite badly enough to force her to laugh, and Belzevelle felt even smaller and more paralysed as the little tickles thrilled and slightly tormented her, making Belzevelle tense and her entire skin tingle all over her body!
Belzevelle didn't laugh, didn't make a sound, just lay still and transfixed by submissive desire as the fingertips tickled her just short of laughter. Belzevelle felt tiny and powerless, dominated completely by her Dominatrix lover, she couldn't bring herself to move, transfixed in place by her submissive desires.
The fingertips lazily explored up and down Belzevelle's side, tingling thrills jolting through her naked body, and Belzevelle was trembling now, not trembling to escape but trembling with desire.
Mistress Wendy's perfect lips smiled, her eyes still closed, and continued to stroke Belzevelle's naked body with the hand on the arm wrapped around her, making Belzevelle crazy with thrills of sensation.
The fingertips reached Belzevelle's closed armpit, and Belzevelle very submissively raised her arm behind her head for her Mistress Wendy, filled with terrible trepidation but far too submissive to offer any resistance.
The fingertips very very softly and slowly caressed Belzevelle's armpit, making Belzevelle flinch and make barely audible squeaking noises, tickled right to the very edge of involuntary laughter.
Belzevelle closed her eyes fearfully, feeling completely dominated, and the fingertips continued to inflict this nearly intolerable sensation, just short of evoking laughter.
Belzevelle flinched and squeaked and felt thrills up and down her spine as her armpit was teased like this, never laughing, but held in place just on the brink, completely dominated.
Belzevelle was tormented, but she also felt intense thrills of pleasure from being tormented by Mistress Wendy, her blood buzzing with pleasure hormones as she endured this horrible sensation in her jumpy sensitive armpit.
The torment continued, Belzevelle submissively holding as still and silent as she could, and Belzevelle simply endured minute after minute without complaint, her dominated brain buzzing with the sensation.
The baby suddenly stirred and cried, his pacifier having fallen from his mouth, and the fingertips stopped instantly and the arm around her body let go, Mistress Wendy nonverbally giving Belzevelle permission to go attend to the infant.
Belzevelle got up immediately and crawled over to the baby, hushing him soothingly and putting the pacifier back in his mouth. The baby calmed swiftly after further coddling from Belzevelle and was soon asleep once more.
The baby would be suckled by Belzevelle a bit later in the night with a bottle of Mistress Wendy's breastmilk to save mess, Belzevelle hated sleep so had volunteered to wake up throughout the night for all the routine baby care chores.
With the baby soothed back to sleep, Belzevelle briefly surveyed her surroundings, taking note of naked Night Lords sleeping in random places on the huge bed as their usual billet. Belzevelle found the presence of the Night Lords in the bed reassuring rather than frightening, every single one of these Night Lords fucked Belzevelle every day and were very fond of her as a result. The Night Lords were their protection from harm, any invaders into the bedroom would face the wrath of these outraged chaos space marines.
The rest of the huge room was completely as it should be, nothing was out of place, nothing posed a threat. This was the safest room in the entire building.
Belzevelle crawled back to Mistress Wendy, snuggling against her and submissively exposing her armpit again. Mistress Wendy's fingertips lazily returned to Belzevelle's armpit, and for a time Belzevelle was tormented, holding still for her Mistress Wendy to torture as she saw fit.
Belzevelle was completely submissive and tingling all over when Mistress Wendy eventually decided she wished to stop, leaving Belzevelle with an intense lingering thrill of pleasure in the aftermath, making Belzevelle feel absolutely wonderful.
Belzevelle cautiously lowered her arm again when she felt sure that Mistress Wendy was completely finished with her armpit, and returned the arm to lay across Mistress Wendy's chest just under the bulging boobs in an affectionate cuddle. Belzevelle lovingly snuggled against the dominant love of her life, feeling so completely happy.
Belzevelle felt too comfortable and content to stay awake, and drifted off to sleep with her face pressed into Mistress Wendy's giant soft bosom.
Belzevelle was barely asleep for a single minute of peace, when she suddenly entered a dream of thick impenetrable mist containing a multitude of Eldar warlocks all waiting to complain to her!
"By all the gods, why can't you pests leave me alone!", Belzevelle lamented in self pity.
"We have more work for you", one of the warlocks opened, ignoring her protests.
"What the hell do you want this time, I am growing tired of getting invested in plans that fail miserably", Belzevelle asked acidly.
"We have a list of vat grown Dark Eldar slaves we want you to purchase in Low Commorragh and send to our craftworlds", the opening warlock requested.
Belzevelle raised an eyebrow at this but nodded very slowly in understanding.
"These first 100 thousand slave names will…"
"You must be joking!", Belzevelle interrupted.
"50 thousand?"
"I am sure as shit not paying for 50 thousand slaves with my own money!", Belzevelle laughed at this ludicrous demand.
"It doesn't have to be your own money, your Mistress, Wendy Sevenson, she can pay for them and send them to us", a different warlock replied.
"Well then, send a complete list of names to Mistress Wendy via psyker messages to the chaos sorceresses. I'm sure she will be happy to tell you to get fucked", Belzevelle quipped.
"That's why we need YOU to plead with your Mistress on our behalf, she will not deny you", the first warlock implored her.
"Why do you even want all these half born slaves?", Belzevelle asked.
"We will teach them our ways and make them free citizens of our craftworlds. With our numbers so low we have need of more Eldar in our craftworlds", Belzevelle was informed.
Belzevelle nodded slowly, this wasn't unreasonable. This at least would save a lot of Dark Eldar souls from Slaanesh by making them craftworlders with soul stones and paths and the like.
"I will see what I can do", Belzevelle reluctantly agreed.
The warlocks were elated by her acquiesce.
"Does this mean that you will finally leave me alone in peace?", Belzevelle asked hopefully.
"Oh my goodness, no".
Belzevelle cursed colourfully in the Eldar language.
Belzevelle was extremely relieved when she woke up to bottle feed the baby not long after this. She was utterly sick of the warlocks ruining her sleep!
Belzevelle left the bed to get a baby bottle of breastmilk from a kitchen area of floor nearby in the huge single room, warming the refrigerated milk to a comfortable temperature in a microwave wavelength electromagnetic radiation cooking device. Belzevelle returned to the huge bed with the bottle, and got to work suckling the barely conscious baby.
Belzevelle lay down on the bed beside the baby, holding the bottle in his mouth with one hand, her face pressed against his head so that she could kiss his soft hair.
Belzevelle felt deeply soothed by the baby, and loved to mother him like this. There was something deeply tranquil about laying down next to a sleepy suckling baby, the gentle maternal act was so soothing.
The baby finished the entire bottle, and Belzevelle gently and tenderly burped him, holding him lovingly to her naked chest with his little chin resting on her shoulder looking behind her.
The baby burped as she softly patted his back, and threw up a bit of milk onto her shoulder.
Belzevelle was not offended by this, merely laughed softly and joyfully and cleaned up this mess. She changed the baby's diaper while she was at it, and cradled him to sleep in her arms, kissing his hair over and over again.
Belzevelle gently placed the sleeping baby down on the bed, and looked over to the leather clad sleeping form of Mistress Wendy. Belzevelle then looked back at the baby, unsure which she would rather stay with.
Belzevelle stroked the hair of the sleeping baby tenderly for a while, lulling him into an even deeper sleep, and she stifled a yawn.
Belzevelle then crawled back to snuggle with Mistress Wendy, who groaned slightly but did not stir as Belzevelle snuggled her lovingly.
Belzevelle didn't want to go back to sleep, the damn warlocks would just annoy her again, and she just lay resting her face on Mistress Wendy's breast just above the black leather corset that covered the bottom half of her tits.
Belzevelle was supremely annoyed, resenting the warlocks who ruined her enjoyment of sleep. She had to sleep eventually but she really didn't want to.
This could not continue, this was becoming intolerable.
***…
Belzevelle was tired the next day as she stood in agony being lovingly tortured, she hadn't slept well thanks to those damn warlocks.
Mistress Wendy had been informed of the requests of the warlocks by Belzevelle as soon as they all got out of bed in the morning, and had briefly been somewhat troubled by this very VERY expensive request for new Dark Eldar slaves.
With the supreme ruler of Commorragh Asdrubael Vect himself now fully aware of the Ebony Stiletto Kabal, (and completely hostile to them), very few Dark Eldar in neutral Kabals dared to do business with the Ebony Stiletto anymore out of fear of Vect's wrath. Those few Kabals that were still brazenly greedy enough to risk keeping doing business with the Ebony Stiletto had raised their prices exorbitantly, knowing that the Ebony Stiletto had so few business partners left that they would be forced to accept these prices, the greedy amoral pricks!
Half born Dark Eldar slaves from the vats of the haemonculi breeding machines were selling for many many times what they were actually worth, ripping the Ebony Stiletto off flagrantly. Buying a hundred thousand of the damn things just to give them all away to the craftworlds would be unthinkably expensive!
But Mistress Wendy had actually loved Belzevelle enough to agree to purchase over a hundred thousand half born Dark Eldar slaves, and send them to the craftworlds, just as a gesture of love for Belzevelle!
It was an astonishing act of generosity to Belzevelle that had made Belzevelle feel profoundly special and loved!
Belzevelle had already known that Mistress Wendy loved her, but it was things like this that really proved just HOW loved Belzevelle actually was!
Belzevelle felt awed and smitten, Mistress Wendy had agreed to spend a fortune simply because Belzevelle asked her to, Mistress Wendy cared more about Belzevelle's happiness than about a small fortune of wealth!
The purchase had not yet happened, the exact list of slave names from the warlocks had been received by the psykers but was still being processed. The exact slaves then had to be tracked down from the remaining sellers and a lot of shit had to happen to complete the trade, but Mistress Wendy had promised to make it a reality, and that's what mattered.
Belzevelle had grovelled on the floor before Mistress Wendy in gratitude, getting quite emotional at this generous display of extreme love. Mistress Wendy had simply kissed her lovingly and told her that she would always be generous to Belzevelle.
Belzevelle had felt wonderful ever since, and was now enjoying tender romantic torture, feeling so completely loved and special, even if she was a bit tired from lack of sleep.
Belzevelle's current romantic torture device was surprisingly low budget, and seemed to be an old homemade woodworking project made for fun by Mistress Wendy herself. It consisted of an upright wooden frame of poorly measured planks and beams of thick plywood, the wood unvarnished and not even sanded smooth. The floor of the frame was a board of thick plywood with long thin brutal steel nails sticking out of it, the nails wickedly sharp and twisted from obvious repeated frequent bending and straightening.
Belzevelle had been sadistically made to stand on these long jutting nails so that they stabbed right through her feet and out the top in horrific agony, and Mistress Wendy had then bent these piercing nails sideways so that Belzevelle couldn't pull her feet off them!
The crude sides of the frame had a crazy plethora of many many long fishing rods nailed to the side beams at various angles, complete with fishing lines and fish hooks, and the fish hooks were currently all hooked agonisingly through Belzevelle's skin in various places, the fishing lines pulled tight and the reels locked in place under the tension. The fish hooks at least had the barbs filed smooth so they could be removed again without additional injury, but they were still excruciatingly painful!
Belzevelle currently had a fish hook through each of her fingertips and thumb tips, with the lines pulled hard so that her arms were forced to stretch out spread eagle as far as possible to reduce the pain, her poor fingers in agony. She also had hooks through the sides of her face, and through the skin of her torso sides, all under agonising tension so that the slightest movement she made caused horrific pain!
Belzevelle was perfectly safe, Mistress Wendy had sunk the hooks and nails through Belzevelle's flesh very carefully to avoid arteries or bones or other important things, and the soul recharging power of the daemon ring "Freedom in Submission" on Belzevelle's finger let her heal very quickly from injuries. Belzevelle would suffer no permanent injuries, only temporary agony.
Belzevelle's three lovers were all over her in this extremely vulnerable position, making things even more extreme.
Damn Octavia was gleefully tickling Belzevelle's armpits with hellish intensity, making Belzevelle frantically want to pull down her arms to defend herself from this aggravating torment. But every time Belzevelle tugged on her arms, the fish hooks through her fingertips caused horrific agony even more unendurable than the tickling, forcing Belzevelle to straighten her arms again to reduce the pain!
The fishing rods were flexible and would bend quite a lot under pressure, maybe even enough to let Belzevelle protect her armpits from Octavia, but it still hurt like absolute hell to tug on the hooks even slightly, tugging enough to protect her armpits would be a new definition of agony!
Mistress Wendy was gleefully sticking needles and pins through the skin of Belzevelle's breasts, and completely pin cushioning her nipples, making Belzevelle scream with agony!
Belzevelle was already covered in light amounts of blood from her fish hooks and foot nails, and the breast needles were making her bleed even more.
Adolf at least was being nice, and was using a vibrator on her clitoris, giving her endless multiple orgasms to give her pleasure, the only non-suffering type of pleasure Belzevelle felt right now.
Belzevelle looked straight ahead, not moving her face or body at all. The fish hooks through her face hurt horrifically, and the slightest turn of her face made this agony even worse, forcing her face to hold the position that caused her the least pain!
Octavia was standing completely out of sight behind Belzevelle, but her fingers were maniacally stroking both of Belzevelle's armpits from behind, making Belzevelle laugh hysterically. Belzevelle was very very ticklish and couldn't ignore this horrible sensation, but the pain of the hooks in her fingers forced her to keep her arms straight no matter how much she couldn't stand it!
The glorious generous loving magnificent Mistress Wendy stood in front of Belzevelle, filling her view. Belzevelle gazed at Mistress Wendy in romantic awe and worship, utterly dominated and smitten by this object of her desire and worship. Mistress Wendy stabbed another needle through Belzevelle's right nipple, causing agony to rip through her, making Belzevelle scream in pain.
Mistress Wendy smiled sadistically at the screaming laughing Belzevelle, enjoying Belzevelle's suffering, and Belzevelle became even wetter than she was already, so turned on by her wonderful Dominatrix.
Adolf was out of sight kneeling submissively on the floor between Mistress Wendy's legs, and seemed to be simply holding the vibrator against Belzevelle's clitoris. Occasionally Mistress Wendy seemed to sit on Adolf like a chair, but the fish hooks through her face prevented Belzevelle from moving her face to quite see, only catching the slight edge of Adolf in the bottom of her view occasionally when he moved.
Belzevelle was incapable of escaping without the most hellish of pain, and just stood in her suffering and sensation, forced to endure everything done to her.
Belzevelle was deeply enraged by Octavia, and would get terrible revenge on the damn tickle freak, but Belzevelle still didn't want to be anywhere else in the universe right now. No matter how much she was tormented, Belzevelle felt strangely wonderful. Mistress Wendy was here torturing Belzevelle, and Belzevelle yearned to be tortured by Mistress Wendy.
If Mistress Wendy had been the one currently tickling her armpits then Belzevelle would feel no offence at all, because of the fact that it was Mistress Wendy. Belzevelle was in submission to Mistress Wendy, and to Dark Eldar this was a sacred hallowed bond.
Belzevelle was a wrack, Mistress Wendy was Belzevelle's equivalent of a haemonculus, there was no torment that Mistress Wendy could inflict that Belzevelle would resent, Belzevelle worshipped Mistress Wendy utterly.
Octavia was not Mistress Wendy, so it wasn't the same, and Octavia would suffer revenge over the coming days. Belzevelle loved Octavia and wouldn't permanently harm her, but Belzevelle still wouldn't be gentle after this terrible suffering at Octavia's hands!
Belzevelle screamed again, she was overwhelmed by so many different pains. The jagged nails stabbing up through her feet hurt like fuck!
The fish hooks pulling hard on her bleeding flesh hurt like fuck!
The needles through her tits and nipples hurt like fuck!
Mistress Wendy was grinning sadistically and wiggling the needles to make them hurt even more!
The tickling in her armpits was so bad that Belzevelle tugged her arms down again, and pain stabbed through her fingertips so sharply that Belzevelle shrieked from such heavy agony!
The vibrator buzzed powerfully on her fully excited clitoris, and Belzevelle had another shockingly powerful orgasm, the pleasure so extreme that it felt like a concussion, stunning her so that she hung from her fish hooks for a moment until the resulting agony shocked her to her senses!
Belzevelle was in a world of suffering, but she felt good, REALLY good. Her Eldar brain craved extreme sensation, even if the sensation was painful, and she felt so complete right now, as though her life had meaning now, a meaning it achingly lacked the rest of the time.
Belzevelle was excited, thrilled, exhilarated. There was no hint of boredom or ennui, she was truly alive!
Belzevelle luxuriated in her wonderful suffering, hating it but loving it at the same time, truly terrified of the suffering but yearning for the pleasures found beyond the suffering.
Mistress Wendy kissed Belzevelle's screaming laughing lips, causing an intense rush of pleasure, and Belzevelle submissively returned the kiss hungrily.
The making out between Dominatrix and submissive continued heavily, Mistress Wendy kissing Belzevelle hungrily, pushing her dominant tongue into Belzevelle's mouth.
Belzevelle moaned and thrilled to have the tongue of the dominant object of her desire in her mouth, her tortured brain buzzing with incredible pleasure.
Octavia was still tickling away, driving Belzevelle crazy, but the wonderful kissing and tongue was at the forefront of Belzevelle's tormented mind.
Belzevelle closed her eyes in bliss as the soft perfect mouth of Mistress Wendy pleasured her own mouth with an excessive exchange of saliva, lips rubbing and sliding and massaging together, tongues wrestling each other erotically.
Belzevelle had never loved Mistress Wendy more, this torture kiss was perfect, devastatingly romantic.
Belzevelle savoured this perfect romance, floating in a sea of pleasure and torment, she had no real sense of the passage of time, just luxuriating in the eternal perfect "now".
An unknown amount of time of perfect bliss later, and Mistress Wendy broke the kiss, seemingly interrupted by something.
Mistress Wendy was saying words that Belzevelle's orgasmic brain could not quite register, and Octavia stopped tickling Belzevelle's armpits.
Adolf took away the vibrator, and Belzevelle was left with only pain, standing completely still with no distractions now.
Belzevelle blinked unhappily, regaining her wits and awareness, and looked at everything she could see by moving just her eyes, her face still held in place by the agonising fish hooks.
People were walking over to them from the doorway, Franklin, the parents of Maya Janowska the tickle slave, and some Security Guardsmen escorting them. Belzevelle groaned unhappily.
Adolf and Octavia were throwing on clothes, having been naked before, but Mistress Wendy had already been wearing her black leather Maternity Corset and backwards flossing G string and kinky boots to start with, so didn't need to dress.
Mistress Wendy moved to the side out of Belzevelle's view, and the tension on the fish hooks disappeared one by one in quick succession, Mistress Wendy unlocking the reels on the fishing rods to let the fishing lines unfurl freely.
Belzevelle's tired arms dropped gratefully to her sides and she turned her head all around in many directions, stretching a terrible neck cramp she had been enduring.
Belzevelle's feet were still nailed to the floor, and Mistress Wendy made no move to remove the nails from Belzevelle's feet. Mistress Wendy instead put a chair behind Belzevelle, and Belzevelle gratefully sat down, feet still securely nailed to the floor.
The meaning was clear, Mistress Wendy was not finished torturing Belzevelle, this was just a temporary pause in the suffering and sensation to deal with some visitors.
Belzevelle didn't bother to try to remove any of the fish hooks, it would just hurt even worse having them stabbed back in again. She was still naked, and her breasts were still an agonising pin cushion of needles, Belzevelle just sat relaxing.
Mistress Wendy handed Belzevelle a bottle of water and some nutrient bars as the visitors got closer, and Belzevelle gingerly used her painfully hooked fingers to eat and drink, hissing in agony from every slight pain.
The visitors came right up to them and stopped, and Belzevelle pointedly ignored them, focused on eating and drinking to recover her strength before her torture continued.
Maya's parents were polite enough to say nothing about the naked Eldar woman being obviously tortured, but Franklin predictably complained about Belzevelle's nudity.
Mistress Wendy sighed and put a shiny black latex bondage bikini on Belzevelle, with Belzevelle obligingly standing up briefly to make it easier for Mistress Wendy to clothe her in the fetish wear before sitting back down, hissing in fresh pain from the bikini top pressing into Belzevelle's breast needles.
Belzevelle resumed eating and drinking silently, being tortured built up quite an appetite and thirst. Belzevelle highly doubted that anyone was here to talk to her.
"Actually Mother, I came here to talk to Belzevelle", Franklin's words unexpectedly disabused Belzevelle of her earlier assumption.
Belzevelle looked up in genuine surprise, what in the worlds could Franklin want to talk to her about?
"I want to get to know Belzevelle better, there is much I do not know about her. If… If, Belzevelle is indeed here to stay then I should know her and ensure that she is… Worthy, of you Mother", Franklin said hesitantly with obvious embarrassment.
Mistress Wendy beamed in a giant smile, holding her hands over her heart in joy. Belzevelle felt touched but also somewhat insulted.
Belzevelle and Mistress Wendy exchanged a glance, and Belzevelle submissively awaited Mistress Wendy's will.
Mistress Wendy noted Belzevelle's complete subservience to whatever Mistress Wendy decided, and turned her attention back to Franklin.
"Belzevelle is currently being tortured, I had planned to torture her a bit more but I am willing to reschedule her torture for a later time", Mistress Wendy offered.
Maya's parents flinched in horror but said nothing, their eyes drawn especially to the bloody bent nails driven through Belzevelle's feet.
"Yes Mistress Wendy", Belzevelle replied with perfect obedience.
"I don't mind talking to Belzevelle right here, the nails in her feet mean she can't get up to any alien mischief", Franklin requested.
Belzevelle flushed at this insulting remark but did not dare to respond under the dominant gaze of Mistress Wendy.
"As you wish Franklin", Mistress Wendy agreed calmly.
"Yes Mistress Wendy", Belzevelle replied again, and resigned herself to her immediate fate.
Mistress Wendy took Maya's parents aside to another part of the room to give Franklin and Belzevelle some privacy.
Belzevelle looked longingly after Mistress Wendy, not enjoying being separated from her Dominatrix right in the middle of play time. Belzevelle turned her fish hook studded gently bleeding face back to look at Franklin, flinching slightly from the pain.
"NOW you look more like a wrack", Franklin began in a friendly tone, apparently trying to make a friendly joke or something.
Belzevelle was a bit nonplussed, but smiled politely anyway for want of a reaction.
"That looks very pleasurable", Franklin added, looking at the nails in her feet, still unusually friendly.
"Extremely painful actually, but pleasurable in a way", Belzevelle replied calmly, wondering what Franklin was doing.
"I am glad that it hurts, it is good for xenos to be in agonising pain if they must remain alive", Franklin said happily in a tone that seemed warm and friendly as though his words were not psychotic racism.
"Yes… So, what did you wish to talk to me about?", Belzevelle changed the subject diplomatically.
"I have been talking to my wife about you, and my wife has expressed the very firm opinion that you are loyal to my Mother and my family", Franklin began.
Belzevelle nodded slowly, a slight smile on her face. Violet was indeed a dear sweet girl. Franklin continued without pause.
"You are a xenos, and I want to say on the record that I don't condone you being a xenos, but my mother is a homosexual Slaanesh worshipper so your alien filth matches her chaos filth somewhat, the two types of filth cancel each other out to use an algebra metaphor", Franklin said in a strangely happy and friendly tone.
Belzevelle goggled at him, was this racist young astartes seriously this shamelessly bigoted right to her face?
"It is not easy for me to endure the fact that you exist, but I am willing to give you a chance you will be no doubt pleased to learn", Franklin said in a magnanimous tone of extraordinary generosity.
Belzevelle considered the fact that she was literally nailed to the floor and covered in painful hooks, and wisely hid how irritated she was by this unbelievable racist hubris, simply nodding without speaking. If Franklin turned hostile Belzevelle would not be able to defend herself in her current state, so it was best to be diplomatic.
"You are very silent, I had expected more reaction from you at this good news", Franklin said unhappily.
Belzevelle thought fast and decided to lie diplomatically.
"I am in an extraordinary amount of pain Franklin, it is painful to speak with hooks in my face", Belzevelle lied, well it was sort of a lie, it actually did hurt to speak right now.
"Ah, I see. Well maybe you should take the hooks out of your face?", Franklin suggested.
"I am hoping to be tortured some more today, taking out the hooks would waste time later putting them back in", Belzevelle said truthfully enough, honestly wanting to end this conversation and return to her sadomasochistic playtime immediately.
"Do you want me to torture you?, I am happy to brutalise a xenos", Franklin offered, apparently seriously!?
"Ew no!, You are my step son!, Don't be so vulgar!", Belzevelle exclaimed in shock and disgust, unable to help herself!
Franklin immediately became defensive.
"I wasn't offering anything vulgar or sexual or sinful, I just meant torturing you in entirely wholesome ways, like cutting you with a knife and beating you bloody, as is appropriate for the righteous to do to any xenos!", Franklin frantically defended himself, sounding shocked.
"Torture is sexual for me, no matter what type", Belzevelle replied, feeling disgusted. This conversation was really creepy.
"I… I apologise. It was wrong of me to inadvertently sexually proposition you", Franklin apologised sincerely.
"I accept your apology Franklin", Belzevelle said politely, flummoxed by this bizarre and awkward conversation.
Belzevelle decided to try to direct this conversation in a less creepy direction, and spoke.
"I appreciate what you are trying to do Franklin, I am very happy for our relationship as family members to improve", Belzevelle reassured him encouragingly.
Franklin took slight objection to the word "relationship", but Belzevelle simply steered the conversation beyond his vernacular nitpicking.
"This is a very positive new direction, I am happy Franklin", Belzevelle pressed.
"I want to learn more about you. Tell me about your life", Franklin requested.
Belzevelle was happy enough with this request and began to speak.
"I was born to the loins of my vat grown half-born parents Bhirae and Kaebros, born true in my Mother Bhirae's womb rather than in a vat, in the Kabal that is now called the Ebony Stiletto. The Kabal was originally called the Black Dagger, but the name was changed when I was still in my infancy".
"I was headhunted from birth by the other true born in the Kabal and enjoyed special treatment as a true born Eldar. My childhood was mostly happy, I was spoilt rotten, every pleasure was instantly gratified, I wanted for nothing. It would take a long time to recount my entire childhood and youth".
"My adult years were a blur of pleasure and violence and war. I killed foes beyond counting, I pillaged, I tortured prisoners to death every single day to quench the thirst of my soul. I had endless sex, endless pleasures, endless drugs. I enjoyed wych arenas from the safety of the audience, no pleasure was denied to me".
Franklin looked disgusted now, but Belzevelle continued.
"I had everything, yet at the same time I had nothing so to speak. The pleasures grew dull and hollow, I had no meaning in my life. I had no love for anyone except my parents, and even that was twisted and unhealthy. I was outwardly arrogant and strong, but inwardly I felt empty. I was emotionally very messed up I see now looking back",
"When I rescued your mother from the Marines Malevolent I was in a really bad place emotionally. I had recently broken up with my boyfriend, I was self medicating with drugs to feel artificial happiness, and I was almost dead inside, though I was too arrogant to ever admit it even to myself".
"I was in a bad place, and your Mother lifted me out of my inner deadness and made my heart feel true joy. Mistress Wendy broke down my pride with 8 hours a day of tickling me so much that I thought it would kill me. She completely broke me down, but then she built me back up again stronger and more healthy than before."
"My pride was my greatest vice and needed to be broken to let me experience true happiness. Once I was humbled and humiliated and freed of my pride, I suddenly had the space and freedom to reach out to other people for help and fellowship, without my pride getting in the way".
"I was welcomed into this wonderful group marriage and showered with so much unconditional love, it was beautiful. I feel so intimately connected and loved, I feel like I am part of something absolutely beautiful. My mental health has never been better, I am so happy all the time, I am excited about the future and I love the present time as well. I am in my own personal heaven", Belzevelle finished with a sigh.
Franklin looked genuinely moved by these words, his usually psychotic face showing genuine empathy for a change.
"You are loyal to my Mother", Franklin said, a statement rather than a question.
"I love her with all of my being, and I love Octavia and Adolf too. I love them all more than I thought it was possible to love anyone. We have our squabbles and disagreements from time to time, but my love for all of them is beyond any question. I feel the most intimate sense of connection with my spouses", Belzevelle said honestly.
"The relationship with the two Slaanesh worshippers is one thing, but Adolf is a servant of the Emperor, it bothers me that he has a sexual relationship with a xenos", Franklin said seriously, obviously not trying to be offensive.
"Adolf is very sweet and gentle, he has a beautiful kind heart. I love him utterly", Belzevelle said honestly.
"I worry that he is sinning by laying with you, it reeks of adultery", Franklin admitted, still sincere rather than hostile.
"Adultery is not his style, Adolf is extremely faithful to the marriage and doesn't stray. Adolf is very sincere in matters of sex, he has sex with women he loves, and the sex is very tender. He is the least likely to cheat out of the entire group marriage", Belzevelle reassured Franklin.
"I am so happy to learn that, is he gentle and kind to my Mother?", Franklin said, clearly moved.
"He is gentle and kind to a fault, he loves Mistress Wendy. He joins in with the sadistic games when Mistress Wendy is the one in bondage, but he is gentle with her even then. You have nothing to fear", Belzevelle promised.
"But his sexual relationship with you, it still bothers me. It makes me concerned about him", Franklin pressed sincerely.
"Adolf only makes love to me because he genuinely considers me to be his wife, he is not just playing around out of lust. When Adolf loves you, he REALLY loves you, you know without a doubt that he loves you, he makes sure that you know", Belzevelle promised with a smile at this romantic thought.
"But you are a xenos, it's sinful", Franklin pressed quietly.
"Mistress Wendy and Octavia are sinful, this building is sinful, everything around us is sinful. That doesn't mean that there can't be genuine love and sincere relationships", Belzevelle gently suggested to the poisonously conservative Franklin.
To Belzevelle's genuine surprise, Franklin actually paused to consider these words, not simply rejecting them out of hand.
"I also get worried about you with my baby brother Heinrich, are my fears justified?", Franklin changed the subject.
"I love that baby, I am just as protective of him as Mistress Wendy and Adolf are. I will die to protect that baby", Belzevelle promised, offended by the mere question!
"Really?", Franklin asked hopefully.
"Yes of course!, I am a mother to that baby, it is MY baby!, Of course I love and protect my own baby!", Belzevelle promised indignantly.
"There is no need to get angry", Franklin complained, as though Belzevelle was being unreasonable.
"Eldar females are just as protective of babies as human females, even Dark Eldar females like me are protective of infants we view as our own", Belzevelle explained as patiently as she could.
"But Heinrich isn't your own offspring, you are currently pregnant with your own baby and haven't given birth yet. Heinrich is my Mother's baby", Franklin explained, as though Belzevelle was an idiot or something.
Belzevelle sighed deeply, rubbing her bleeding hook studded forehead with a knuckle in deep exasperation of this conversation now.
"Mistress Wendy is my EVERYTHING, and Mistress Wendy gave birth to Heinrich. That fact automatically means that I consider the baby to be mine because my lover gave birth to him", Belzevelle explained.
"Do you help out with caring for the baby?", Franklin asked.
"I do easily the majority of the childcare, I am Heinrich's primary caregiver", Belzevelle informed Franklin indignantly.
"You are?", Franklin asked in surprise.
"Yes. I am the one who wakes up all throughout the night to give him bottles and change his nappy and coddle him when he cries. I am the one who bathes him and cleans up every vomit and other gross thing most of the time", Belzevelle defended herself angrily, deeply insulted.
"Oh, well that is good", Franklin said simply.
Belzevelle was thoroughly annoyed by this stage and was completely sick of this exasperating conversation. Belzevelle looked around hopefully to Mistress Wendy off in the distance.
Mistress Wendy met Belzevelle's eyes and excused herself from a conversation with Maya's parents to saunter back over to Belzevelle and Franklin.
Belzevelle got excited, her feet nailed to the floor preventing Belzevelle from tapping her feet with excitement at Mistress Wendy returning.
Franklin looked up curiously in the direction of Mistress Wendy, and greeted his mother as she got closer.
"Hello Mistress Wendy!", Belzevelle said excitedly, eyes nonverbally pleading to be rescued from this conversation and be tortured again.
Mistress Wendy noticed the look, and immediately began to turn the reel on one of the fishing rods, tugging agonisingly on the hook in Belzevelle's right pinky fingertip, forcing Belzevelle to stand up and extend her arm to reduce the terrible pain!
"Mother we are still talking", Franklin complained.
Mistress Wendy turned the reels on a few more fishing rods, dismissing Franklin's protests as Belzevelle was filled with pain.
Mistress Wendy tightened the line on every single fishing rod, leaving Belzevelle stretched spread eagle and completely still in intense agony, unable to move once again.
"Belzevelle I am sorry that my mother is interrupting our conversation like this", Franklin apologised to Belzevelle passive aggressively towards his Mother.
Belzevelle didn't speak, merely holding her face completely still to minimise her pain.
"I will have to continue talking to you another time Belzevelle", Franklin said unhappily and left, looking deeply put out.
Belzevelle and Mistress Wendy waited until he was completely out of earshot before speaking.
"That conversation was horrible Mistress Wendy, I have rarely been so insulted", Belzevelle said quietly as well as she could with a face full of tightly pulled hooks.
"What did he insult?", Mistress Wendy asked curiously.
"My parenting, my race, my sex life, it got really personal this time Mistress Wendy", Belzevelle explained unhappily.
"At least he is opening up and talking to you now, it's a huge improvement", Mistress Wendy noted.
"Yes that is true Mistress Wendy", Belzevelle agreed with a sigh.
Mistress Wendy tenderly kissed Belzevelle, lifting her from her negative mood somewhat.
"Are you ok now?", Mistress Wendy asked with tender concern.
"I will get over it soon enough I guess, Mistress Wendy", Belzevelle sighed.
Mistress Wendy tugged on one of the tight fishing lines, making Belzevelle yelp with sharp pain.
Mistress Wendy smiled sadistically, and started plucking fishing lines like the chords of a musical instrument, generating a harmony of screams from the agonised Belzevelle.
"Oh, by the way Belzevelle, Octavia is standing right behind you…", Mistress Wendy purred cruelly.
"Mother fucker!", Belzevelle cursed as a pair of hands suddenly buried themselves in her armpits from behind, tickling like unholy fuck!
Belzevelle tugged and thrashed, but then screamed with agony from the hooks, forcing her to hold still with arms straight as the damn tickle freak tormented her!
Mistress Wendy laughed in sadistic delight, and informed Belzevelle that she was going back to keep talking to Maya's parents, leaving Belzevelle at the sadistic mercy of Octavia.
Belzevelle was in hell as Mistress Wendy walked away chuckling cruelly, enduring extremes of sensation.
Belzevelle was in hellish suffering, but it was still far less unpleasant than that conversation with Franklin had been!
***…
