Chapter 32H
The formerly vast ork fleet in orbit of the planet sized Fate-Clock was floating wreckage, with just a few badly damaged kill kruizers hunting among the vast floating debris for living prey. What was even more remarkable was the fact that the chaos ships had yet to fire a single shot!
The ork fleet had been so deranged and provoked by TigerLily that they had inflicted all this damage on themselves with insane infighting, every ork ship fighting every other ork ship until they couldn't find anyone left alive in all the wreckage to keep shooting at. Heavily damaged individual ork ships still operated inside the thick maze of floating wreckage, but they couldn't find each other in this 3 dimensional maze, not even sure what ships were wrecks and just shooting randomly at every wreck in sight, blasting them into chunks that made the impenetrable maze of debris even worse by the minute.
Even more helpfully the insane orks in the ships had fired down on the (already broken) surface of the Fate-Clock, as every single hidden ork anti-space weapon battery fired back at the ork ships revealing their hiding places so that the orks in orbit could target every single one of them. Orbital debris from the wreckage in orbit had also rained down on the surface obliterating even more weapons as well as flattening every ork army that wasn't safely underground.
The massive titan sized ork gargants were already blown apart or flattened under crash landed wreckage, and almost every other vehicle that hadn't been underground had also been destroyed. The entire surface of the Fate-Clock was blasted fire blackened wreckage and ruin and burning ork and other green skin bodies. The ork power grid on the surface had been annihilated, plunging most of the underground places into darkness as most power generators had been on the surface for cooling purposes.
The chaos fleet was extremely careful as it approached this terminal case of hellish orbital Kessler Syndrome, pausing the ships a safe distance from the floating debris fields and sending out small specialist space debris field mining shuttles escorted by fighters to navigate the debris and nudge them into more convenient orbits.
For hours the small armoured shuttles used their powerful engines to nudge more and more wreckage and debris out of the way to expose surviving ork ships for the chaos fleet to blow apart with concentrated firepower. Other shuttles penetrated all the way through the orbital debris to scout the planet itself as the fleet comprehensively hunted down and destroyed every surviving ork ship in orbit. Ork fighter-bombers and other small space capable aircraft were also scattered throughout the floating wreckage, but they were mostly running extremely low on fuel and ammunition after fighting each other and losing their mother ships for resupply. The chaos fleet had a slow and unpleasant time finding and hunting these small craft with the chaos fighters escorting the shuttles.
After many many hours of the most boring and unexciting orbital nudging work imaginable, all of the biggest and most dangerous chunks of wreckage were parked out of the way in a safe graveyard orbit, and powerful electro magnetic armoured nets were being lowered into the floating sprays of smaller fragments to either slow them down into decaying orbits or vaporise or capture them. Medium sized chunks of wreckage were being either nudged into a high graveyard orbit to salvage for scrap metal later or being de-orbited to crash down to the surface. It was extremely boring orbital environmental civil engineering type of work.
After twelve hours the orbital debris was still far from cleared away fully but it was at least cleansed of enemies and had enough clearings in the debris drifts to safely use landing craft to make planet fall. Tetrarch heavy landers and thunderhawk transports and gunships took advantage of a brief window of pause in the raining orbital debris to land a Night Lord army on the ruined surface, right outside the entrance to a vast opening into a metal cavern system deep below the surface of the Fate-Clock, the landing craft quickly returning to the safety of high orbit before more debris could rain down from the sky.
The Fate-Clock had a breathable atmosphere but was completely made out of metal, with no water to speak of beyond some cooling water in vast underground storage tanks that were part of the mechanism of the Fate-Clock. (The orks had broken into some of these tanks and pumped up some of this water for their own use).
The night was just beginning on the part of the surface the Night Lord army had been deposited on, and the chaos space marines looked around with perfect night vision at a landscape of twisted burning rusty metal ruin, the very surface buckled and deformed from the impacts of huge ork ordinance and wrecked ork ships that had recently crashed down upon it. Ork skeletons burned sluggishly in the tangle of metal wreckage, with thick black squig oil dripping in burning drops from cracks in the smoking wreckage to keep these bodies burning in fires that refused to die.
The air stank of smoke and burning metal, of roasted ork meat and the stench of crude high explosive residue, of oil and rust and hot metal and burning ork shit from the ruptured sewage tanks of the wrecked ships.
The Night Lords knew that the rain of fresh deadly debris from orbit would soon continue and they did not linger, taking themselves and their military vehicles, as well as literally thousands of military supply trucks driven by common human heretic rabble, inside a huge metal opening in the buckled twisted metal landscape, entering a vast system of metal caverns filled with vandalised and broken clockwork and gears and cogs and other mechanical components.
The metal tunnels were the maintenance access for this part of the planet sized machine, and they were a dark maze of sanity defying size that joined up with every other maintenance tunnel in the entire machine, all giving access to an endless number of metal moving parts. Somewhere down in this maze was every surviving ork on the planet, as well as a near eternity of cogs and clockwork and other things on a numerical scale which defied human cognitive comprehension.
The army headed downwards with the help of huge gently sloping metal ramps, getting as much metal as they could between themselves and the next wave of orbital debris, going down over a mile before feeling safe enough to stop moving and organise their forces and supplies.
It was utterly dark this far down, with all the ork electric lights dead from lack of power. The Fate-Clock itself had moving parts that could in theory be harnessed for power, but the foolish orks had smashed and looted and burned so much of the clockwork that not a single cog moved anymore on this level, those few parts that weren't damaged or stolen simply no longer connected to other parts that were still moving further down in the depths of the Fate-Clock.
Among these Night Lords stood TigerLily herself, not only not wearing a burqa but now completely naked to maximise the madness of any orks who saw her. The Night Lords themselves deliberately did not look at her, and she used telepathy to speak to them without making a sound. With TigerLily present they had her potent ability to see the lines of fate to let them find their foes and avoid deadly ambushes, not to mention her potent psychic powers and her deadly close combat ability as a massive daemonic monstrous creature.
Night Lord Chaos Space Marine Augusta Antony Sevenson stood sentry at the edge of this temporary base camp, seeing through the darkness perfectly through the visors of his huge suit of mixed mark 4 and mark 5 and mark 6 power armour, his armour a hodgepodge of parts taken from different suits with all of the maintenance and supply problems that plagued chaos space marines. His body was so large at 9 feet tall that it made finding armour parts that fitted him even harder, with his current suit mostly scavenged from the bodies of other abnormally large chaos space marines, with but a few spare parts available in his own personal armour spare part crates in the back of some of the supply trucks.
Augusta watched the surroundings carefully, his power armour visor giving heads up display readings of his armour systems functioning and his ammunition supply, with his bolter wirelessly connected to his armour to inform him of every round in the clip and of every round fired, as well as status reports of the condition of the weapon and every part it contained. Augusta had complete situational awareness of the gear he wore and carried, he knew the maintenance state of every last component down to minor scratches, and all of it was currently well maintained with no issues.
The other Night Lords were organising and regrouping, some guarding the camp like Augusta as the majority organised supplies and gave or received orders. Nothing was left to chance, every last box of supplies in the trucks was checked to be sure of its contents and ammunition and other supplies were recorded down to the last round of ammunition. Everything was accounted for and every Night Lord was grouped and given orders.
Augusta was then relieved by another Night Lord and entered the camp to have his own status recorded and to be grouped and given fresh orders.
Augusta walked past hastily placed field fortifications in the form of long cover walls made of inflatable thick Kevlar with weighted bottoms to keep them upright, all unfolded from trucks and quickly inflated with extremely quiet air pumps. Augusta then walked past supply trucks parked in the most defensible arrangement, trucks which carried everything from spare parts to fuel to ammunition and food and whatever else they might possibly need.
Finally Augusta approached his massive father Chaos Lord Luke Sevenson, a giant even bigger than Augusta and clad in Night Lord terminator armour, the armour covered in thousands of overlapping unholy symbols anointed with blood by pretty much every woman who had been in the staging hangar yesterday. The Chaos Lord held a double barrelled combi-bolter in one hand and had a huge power claw built into the gauntlet of the other hand, his head was covered by a helmet because he wasn't one of those complete idiots who went into combat without a helmet on to look heroic or some such nonsense.
Luke was currently giving orders to other Night Lords with the help of a command squad and aspiring champion lesser officers, with his every word being recorded by the cogitators built into the power armour of every Night Lord around him. At present he was organising men and giving various orders, delegating with lesser leaders like a professional military commander.
Augusta was acknowledged by his father but got most of his orders from Augusta's first cousin once removed Sherman Sevenson the over 100 year old Aspiring Champion. Sherman Sevenson was the son of Mistress Wendy's ancient daughter Mistress Brand Sevenson, and Mistress Wendy was the sister of Augusta's father Luke, making Augusta "technically" one generation older than Sherman despite being less than a quarter his age. It was just one of the confusing things that happened to people who didn't physically age much.
Sherman Sevenson was not quite as tall as Augusta but he was still a brutal man with over a hundred years of experience in killing people. He wore over his power armour a long sleeved shirt made out of rotting skinned human faces stitched together, designed as a terror tactic to intimidate enemies and underlings alike. He usually favoured close combat weapons but for this battle he was holding a combi-bolter to keep the orks at a distance.
Augusta was given vanguard duties on an aggressive patrol into a location where TigerLily had detected the presence of orks, and Augusta was very happy with this assignment, grouping up with other particularly vicious Night Lord tactical marines.
Augusta was annoyed to find himself in a squad that contained Jack Sevenson, the Night Lord who had wanted to marry Augusta's mother yesterday. Jack nodded his helmeted head to Augusta respectfully, looking slightly embarrassed. Augusta stood beside Jack despite the irritation, and the patrol of several squads boarded inside chaos rhino armoured transports and moved out, the rhino crew using either thermal sights or their own night vision to see without using any lights.
The squad in the rhino softly prayed to Slaanesh as they were driven towards danger, praying for heightened senses and quicker reflexes to help them in battle. If Slaanesh heard the prayers he gave no indication.
The rhino halted and the hatches opened, and the Night Lords disembarked in complete darkness, and crept silently on foot through a maze of broken clockwork and gears, their Night Lord eyes unbothered by the darkness.
Orks were up ahead, loudly grumbling to each other about the darkness and feeling around blindly with their hands and booted feet, squatting down so they wouldn't trip as literally hundreds of them blindly tried to navigate through the darkness, accompanied by lesser orkoids who seemed just as blind in the dark as their ork masters.
The Night Lords spoke to each other with tactical sign language, and split up into 4 man fire teams to surround the orks on every possible side. Augusta and Jack and two other Night Lords formed one fire team, and they crept through the 3 dimensional maze of side tunnels and ladders and broken clockwork to get around behind this blind horde.
The orks suddenly stopped, the squigs loudly growling having smelled danger in the darkness, and the orks demanded to know if anyone was there. The orks tried to fire their weapons to illuminate their surroundings, but the weapons clicked empty, the fools had obviously already used all of their ammunition trying to see in the dark before now!
The Night Lords did not reply but got to work unfurling reams of monomolecular edged blade wire, carefully stringing this thin strong wire tightly between heavy broken metal clockwork on either side of every path the orks might take, stringing the wire several times at different heights to give the orks a nasty surprise in the darkness.
The Night Lords then silently moved back a bit and waited, and the orks smacked the squigs deciding they were growling at nothing.
The orks continued moving blindly with their hands feeling blindly ahead in the darkness, and the leading ork placed his hand forward to blindly touch a strand of the wire. His fingers sliced straight off without the ork even noticing at first, the monomolecular edge so sharp that it sliced between pain receptors without even being felt. The ork continued walking and the wire touched his neck, slicing right through to the bone, then slicing through the bone as well after a pause of resistance, cutting off the ork's head without a sound.
Other orks blindly blundered into the wire, losing all sorts of body parts and killing about twenty before a grot noticed the bodies by touch and raised the alarm.
The orks couldn't see but they could feel the bodies and were alerted. An alert ork then noticed that half his arm was missing and with some extremely unwise experimentation with their own arms other orks figured out that the wire was there, though they weren't sure what it was.
Some swings of a thick steel choppa then met resistance against the wire, and with some brute force the ork snapped the wire with his choppa.
The Night Lords then opened fire from another direction, firing a single shot that killed an ork.
The orks all saw the split second muzzle flash and eagerly ran charging towards the light, immediately tripping over the low edge rail of a long wide air shaft and falling to their death.
Some orks got wise from all the screaming of falling orks before it was too late, and they carefully felt the ground and discovered the air shaft, and circumnavigated it by touch, walking right into more wire…
Augusta and the others had a great time luring the orks into ever more horrible traps in the dark, firing barely a shot and letting traps in the dark do most of the killing for them. Hundreds of orks died in entertaining ways, sliced to bits by blade wire, charging berserkly into pitfalls or jutting broken metal skewers, just the best sport.
Those ork and other creatures that survived were now getting very afraid, sensing that most of them were dead, and they huddled together and ignored further provocations, loudly yelling that the unseen enemies were "fighting dirty" and that they "didn't want to play anymore".
The Night Lords then opened fire on the entire mass and dropped every last one of them.
Augusta chuckled as he helped to take down the wire.
This was too fucking easy when the orks couldn't even see!
***…
The war for the Fate-Clock was an absolute blood bath with the tunnels being so dark, and the Night Lords were ruthlessly avoiding those orks who could actually see and defend themselves, killing as many weaker groups as they could and burning the bodies afterwards to stop ork spore formation to reduce their reproduction.
The Fate-Clock had little soil or dirt for the orks to grow new generations in, but it did have the spilled sand from huge broken hourglasses mixed with rust and ashes and water stolen from the cooling water tanks and hosed everywhere by the orks to let them breed. It had ork dung too, huge piles of the stuff, and it still had the dried human meat of the original Tzeentch worshipping humans of the Fate-Clock hanging impaled on meat hooks all through the tunnels in larders, and half eaten synthetic food that the original inhabitants had made with machines.
The Night Lords dug up everything that any sort of orkoid could grow in and scattered this material thin so it was useless for ork reproduction. They secured every bit of food they found and either took it with them or burned it, so that any orks they missed would starve, spoiling the environment behind them so that no new orks would grow or survive afterwards.
Crucified orks and grots and squigs adorned the tunnels, the bodies burned alive from brutal nails driven into the metal walls. Huge piles of fire blackened skeletons were erected in offering to Slaanesh, the skeletons horrifically mutilated in sickening ways. The dark tunnels became a place of horror and nightmares as unspeakable things were done to orks in the dark.
Some orks were spared and driven alive in rhinos to be left in the path of other orks to spread the stories and spread the terror, and the terror spread so far and wide that orks desperately left the dark depths to brave the lethal surface where wreckage fell down from space on them, splattering these orks but at least giving them a mercifully quick death.
Eventually all that was left were those orks that still had light and ammunition, those that had electricity generators and most importantly vehicles with big lights on them. These orks gathered together in their well lit fortified underground settlements, stubbornly refusing to fight anywhere where they couldn't see, not liking the "dirty fighting gits in the dark".
The Night Lords responded to this by getting a suicidal chaos cultist to drive alone towards these ork forts in a truck carrying an armed nuclear weapon, (as the other chaos forces retreated as far away as possible), giving the cultist the instruction to drive as close to the fort as he could get before ork gunfire detonated the nuke in the back of the truck. For added effectiveness the Night Lords put a big white flag of truce on top of the truck and used the vox radio to tell the orks that they were sending them a personal gift for their boss, sometimes the orks believed this and escorted the truck right inside to park right next to their boss!
Whether these nuke trucks were welcomed inside or shot on sight, the resulting explosion and radiation was usually pretty effective at giving the orks a really rotten time, at the very least partially decimating their numbers and softening them up for further nuke trucks to finish the job.
Only once the orks were completely softened up by nukes would the Night Lords enter battle in their radiation hardened power armour, destroying whatever was left in the hot irradiated confines of the fire blackened ruin of the ork fort, shooting out every light they could find and fighting the nuke shocked orks in the dark if possible, always fighting at long range from cover to give themselves the maximum combat advantage. At no point was this pragmatic and cowardly type of warfare particularly fun for the orks, dying at long range against enemies they couldn't even see properly much less hit with their choppers.
The very last ork boss in the last ork fort was not killed, but rather had his arms and legs shot off to stumps and was put in the sealed back compartment of a radiation certified armoured truck and driven away alive. This boss was decontaminated of radiation and put strapped in a portable air filtered compartment chamber to keep his spores from spreading. This ork boss would be kept alive, but his treatment would not be a dignified existence as he was turned into a Slaaneshi slave.
The Fate-Clock still had ork stragglers wandering around lost in the dark underground places in small numbers, but for all intents and purposes the Fate-Clock was now liberated, and the Night Lords proudly gave this prize back to Tzeentch in return for his favour and reward.
Tzeentch beamed down happily at the Sevenson controlled fleet and proclaimed his gratitude and his boons of favour. They would be rewarded, oh how they would be rewarded with further good fortune, with favourable fates and calm warp currents guaranteed. They were told that they were "very good pawns" and they were promised further victories ahead.
The Night Lord army carefully returned to the surface, timed very carefully to avoid the orbital debris falls, and all of them were collected in various landing craft and returned to orbit, laden with all sorts of loot and war trophies as well as their ork boss prisoner. The craft carefully navigated the remaining debris and returned to the Nightmare Asylum.
The orbit was still a mess of Kessler Syndrome but a lot more tidy than it had been, and civilian salvage shuttles were dutifully exploring the massive wreckage parked in a graveyard orbit, looting the wreckage for any valuables and cutting up the wrecks with plasma cutting torches into smaller chunks to load into the shuttle holds for scrap metal. In time much of these wrecks would be scrapped and recycled into new metal, some used by the Sevenson empire and the rest used to repair the Fate-Clock.
As soon as the orbital debris falls ended legions of Tzeentch daemons and millions of Tzeentch worshipping Stōørølø slaves would descend to the Fate-Clock permanently to colonise and repair it. In time it would be a thriving daemon world and fully restored to its former glory, hopefully better defended this time against orks in the future.
For now, the fleet would celebrate this amazing victory.
***…
"Oi!, What the ZOG are you gits doing!, That's my dung hole!, Stop touching it!", the huge limbless ork was currently shouting.
Sevenson women giggled and chuckled and tittered at these words, and an even bigger dildo was used.
"This is pretty fucking low…", Fhimra said disapprovingly.
"Orks are funny, the way they talk is SO funny!", Octavia giggled at the ork's voice and accent.
"Stop putting things up me stink 'ole you miserable gits!"
Octavia giggled uncontrollably, covering her mouth with a hand unable to contain her giggling.
Octavia couldn't understand how Fhimra could keep a straight face right now when this was SO funny!
The Sevenson boys had finished fighting the orks after what must have been at least days of fighting, if not weeks, (it was hard to tell in the Maelstrom), and they had suffered only some serious injuries but no actual deaths, (admittedly some of these injuries had been absolutely gruesome but still they hadn't died).
Her baby boy Augusta had not been injured at all, but he *had* managed to burn through yet *another* set of replacement parts for his power armour, which was ridiculous even for Augusta!, His old armour parts had been completely chipped by ork bullets cracking chunks out of the ceramite plates, and huge ork chopper axes had completely shattered through the ceramite to damage the machinery underneath!, The entire backpack power plant of Augusta's armour had been torn completely off by an ork chainsaw in close combat!
Octavia was glad that it had been the armour rather than her son that was destroyed in combat, but he was running very low on replacement parts. He couldn't keep doing this or he would have no armour left at all soon!
Well anyway, the boys had returned home with everyone at least still alive, and they had returned with the FUNNIEST ork anal play slave that the women were supposed to put stuff up the bottom of. The ork was harmless with no arms or legs, and strapped down to keep him still with his huge backside presented to the women. He was naked but orks didn't have any reproductive organs, just a tiny hole to pee out of and a bum hole.
The ork was being kept in a huge specialised ork dungeon play room with air filters and a decontamination airlock to prevent spores from getting out, and all of the Sevenson women and their lovers and sex slaves had been invited to this room to play with this ork in celebration of their victory.
Owner Wendy and Mistress Lash had brought Octavia and Fhimra with them to this room, all four women dressed as Dominatrices with huge strap on dildos including the two tickle slaves, and they were currently mingling with people in fellowship as women took it in turns putting things up the ork's ass.
Fhimra looked so unusual dressed in shiny black synthetic rubber Dominatrix fetish wear with a giant black strap on, and she looked adorably embarrassed to be seen wearing this. She was currently standing with Octavia leaning against a wall for comfort, both of them made up gorgeously.
Other women were mingling around in small groups, giggling at the ork and chatting softly in between taking turns with the ork. Owner Wendy was currently lubricating her own massive strap on next to the disgusted looking ork, with Mistress Lash strangely declining the offer to peg the ork.
"Oi you bleedin' miserable git, zogging STOP putting that thing up me drops 'ole!", the ork bellowed as Owner Wendy sadistically penetrated the ork.
Octavia exploded into giggles at these words, doubling over with laughter!, Orks were just SO funny every time they said anything!
"How can YOU find rape funny Octavia?", Fhimra exclaimed, sounding strangely upset for some reason.
"What are you talking about Fhimra?", Octavia giggled in complete confusion at this absurd question.
"That ork is being gang raped and you can't stop giggling.", Fhimra accused Octavia unhappily.
"What?, No he isn't, those are all women and orks don't have a concept of sex anyway, to them a bum is just about poo.", Octavia said and giggled uncontrollably at the word poo!
"Women absolutely *can* rape people and orks are still people even if they aren't human. Even if orks aren't sexual creatures they still don't like being anally raped!", Fhimra exclaimed crossly.
"Get that stick outa me back end you dirty little grot!"
Octavia exploded with fresh laughter, completely unable to hold it in. Orks had a way of making even anal abuse sound unbearably funny!
"I'm sorry!, I can't help it!, It's funny!", Octavia giggled uncontrollably, unable to stop giggling by any power she possessed.
"I'll zogging fart on you ya lousy little git!"
Fhimra burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hands looking embarrassed with herself as she giggled uncontrollably!, Octavia was exploding with giggles too!
(Loud fart and Owner Wendy loudly spluttering at the smell)
Octavia and Fhimra together howled with laughter.
"I warned ya!"
Octavia could barely breathe in her laughter!
"What by Slaanesh have you been eating ork?!", Owner Wendy loudly exclaimed, covering her mouth and nose in the inside nook of her bent elbow.
Fhimra was now crawling on the floor laughing, rolling onto her side and holding her stomach as she gasped with laughter, looking like she was dying.
Octavia was sitting on the floor with her back against the wall giggling energetically, eyes streaming with laughter.
"I eat 'umie gits like you ya dirty little dung 'ole touching grot!", the ork bellowed at Owner Wendy.
"Don't threaten me with a good time ork.", Wendy quipped back cheekily!
Octavia giggled yet again, this time at the mental image of the ork "eating" Owner Wendy!
"Get that stick thing away from me 'ole you disgustin' blighter!"
Fhimra burst out giggling yet again, looking ashamed of herself for laughing.
"Why the hell is this so funny!?", Fhimra exclaimed, desperately trying to stop laughing.
(Loud fart and triumphant ork laughter as Owner Wendy gagged)
Fhimra and Octavia were both crawling on the floor laughing!
(Other Sevenson women gagging and retreating from the smell of the fart)
"I'm going to die of laughter!", Fhimra gasped, squealing with howls of laughter.
An incredibly foul animal fart stench then wafted all the way over to Octavia and Fhimra and they laughed even more, trying not to breathe even as they gasped for breath in their laughter!
"Dear Tzeentch it STINKS!", Fhimra exclaimed, giggling and crawling away for fresher air.
The ork was laughing triumphantly as the entire room cleared to the other side to get away from the smell, with even Owner Wendy retreating in disgust, astonishing considering she was a Slaanesh CHAMPION!
"That damn ork!", Sevenson women cursed covering their noses against the smell, making Octavia and Fhimra laugh even more.
The ork fart seemed to engulf half the room with its raw reek, it was almost as bad as a Nurgle worshipper's fart!, It was like being punched right in the nose to smell something this foul!
"The smell is stuck to my dildo!", Owner Wendy loudly exclaimed as women around her fled from the smell!, Fhimra and Octavia were both just about dying of laughter as they lay on the ground clinging to each other as they gagged from the smell!
"And I'll fart again if you dirty grots goes near me back 'ole again!", the ork shouted triumphantly, making the pair of girlfriends explode into a fresh fit of giggles.
The Night Lords were running over to assist now, waving their arms to try to waft the smell away from the Sevenson women, and women were fleeing into the decontamination airlock to escape the fart filled room. It was so funny that Octavia was crying.
Owner Wendy was desperately washing the ork dung off her dildo disgustedly, and Mistress Lash herself had already left the room due to the smell. Everything about this scene was just funny!
Octavia and Fhimra eventually escaped the fart chamber of a room with Owner Wendy, joining a huge crowd of Sevenson Dominatrices in a large corridor outside the final airlock door, all looking disgusted by what had happened.
"Exactly whose genius idea was it to use an ORK as an anal pleasure slave?!", Mistress Bullwhip Sevenson asked incredulously.
Octavia and Fhimra burst out laughing yet again.
There was a lot of grumbling amongst the women, and loud discussion about what they should do now.
The crowd gradually decided that if they couldn't peg the ork then they should peg the lead Night Lord Luke Sevenson instead. Luke looked at all of the Dominatrices with huge strap ons in silence for a moment.
"I, um, maybe the really hot women can…", Luke reluctantly offered, looking aroused.
The women all mobbed around him and dominantly demanded that he remove his armour.
Soon Luke was naked and Octavia eagerly came up behind him and pegged his massive backside as he crawled naked on the floor.
Luke moaned in pleasure from Octavia penetrating him, not enslaved by any curse like the others but genuinely finding Octavia extremely attractive and consenting to be penetrated by her.
Octavia giggled, increasing the strength of her lust aura to excite him even more, and she enthusiastically sodomised him as he groaned in pleasure. Luke was a switch who occasionally enjoyed being sexually submissive to women as a kink, he was partial to a bit of pegging by the beautiful Octavia.
Octavia mischievously tickled his balls as she fucked his ass, and he chuckled softly, his balls quite surprisingly ticklish. Octavia grinned sadistically and tickled him even more until he was actually laughing, finding a line between his balls that was incredibly ticklish when she stroked up and down it with her fingertip.
Luke moaned and started to masturbate with one hand, and Octavia kept tormenting his testicles and pegging his anus with a huge sadistic grin on her face, absolutely loving this.
Luke groaned deeply in orgasm and his cum spurted on the floor, but Octavia didn't stop, making him laugh much harder and fidget terribly.
Luke pulled himself off Octavia's strap on and turned to pounce on her, hugging her down on the floor and tickling her to hysterics!
Octavia was delighted as she squealed with laughter, feeling really horny, and she felt her panties being pulled off. Octavia moaned as her own anus was penetrated by something absolutely massive, Luke's penis, and he chuckled saying it was her turn to be pegged!
The other women were indignant and demanded that Luke submit to keep getting pegged without changing the rules halfway, and Luke obediently rolled over and crawled with Octavia's anus still impaled upon his penis.
"Feel free to peg me, don't mind Octavia.", Luke said huskily.
"Don't mind if I do big brother.", Owner Wendy said mischievously, coming up behind him.
"Wendy?", Luke asked, then groaned as she pegged him.
"Just some sister brother pegging.", Owner Wendy chuckled sadistically.
Luke paused for a long moment, then he shrugged and nodded, and focused on penetrating Octavia's stretched poo hole.
Octavia was too far gone in Slaanesh to even question incest pegging as crossing some sort of line, Luke had already gotten Wendy pregnant once in the past with the now lost baby Franklin, the line had probably already been crossed long before now. Octavia simply moaned as she enjoyed her own anal sex.
"Oh little sister!, Little sister!", Luke moaned as Owner Wendy pegged him.
Fhimra standing nearby had a very odd look on her face for some reason…
"Take my dildo big brother!", Owner Wendy moaned jadedly.
Fhimra was burying her face in her hands looking mortified with embarrassment…
"It's nice to see a brother and sister being so close.", Octavia said happily.
"Nope, I can't, I just can't…", Fhimra said and walked away.
Octavia was confused but just kept enjoying this lovely activity.
Octavia's asshole was soon filled with so much cum that she felt like she had to do a massive shit, and she ran off to a toilet as Owner Wendy kept pegging her big brother like a loving sister.
Octavia sat down on a toilet and shitted out about a pint of cum, followed by a shit that had been washed loose from further up by the spray of lubricating cum. It felt so gross to shit out sloppy cum like this and it took much toilet paper to clean up the mess of her rather stretched anus.
Octavia returned to find Owner Wendy still gleefully pegging her brother Luke, and Octavia looked around everywhere for Fhimra.
She found Fhimra hiding around a corner with her face in her hands, looking embarrassed. Fhimra looked up at Octavia when she approached and greeted her girlfriend with a cuddle.
"Are you ok?", Octavia asked sweetly.
"The ork might have been funny, but incest pegging makes me sick. I just can't stand to watch, it's just too icky!", Fhimra said squeamishly.
"There is nothing wrong with men getting pegged by women.", Octavia corrected slightly crossly, offended by her prudish attitude.
"There is nothing wrong with *unrelated* men and women doing consensual pegging, but there's PLENTY wrong with a BROTHER AND SISTER doing it!", Fhimra exclaimed.
"How can you be so horribly conservative?!", Octavia reacted crossly.
"Since when is being uncomfortable with *incest* considered *conservative*?, I'm not being homophobic or racist or transphobic or misogynistic here!, I just draw the line at *incest* pegging, a line should be drawn somewhere and I draw it there.", Fhimra emphatically defended herself emotionally.
"They are both consenting adults.", Octavia pointed out.
"I'm not saying it should be illegal… Well actually maybe it really *should* be illegal, I just personally can't stand incest.", Fhimra fumbled like a complete prude!
"If you don't like incest then just don't have sex with your own siblings, don't be a bigot towards those who *do* like it!", Octavia angrily demanded.
"What sort of Chris-Chan shit is this… Look, I'm not trying to be a bigot or a conservative or anything, I just have to personally leave the room when I see certain things that trigger me strongly, things like seeing a brother being pegged by his full blood sister…", Fhimra implored.
"Closed minds make Slaanesh cry. I'm really disappointed with you Fhimra.", Octavia said crossly and turned away wiping tears from her eyes.
"Octavia… I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I'm sorry.", Fhimra soothed her.
"I will forgive you, but I'm still really disappointed in you.", Octavia said quietly,
"I'm sorry.", Fhimra reconciled penitently.
"I'm going to be your wife one day, this hasn't changed. I'm not going to leave you over this, I'm just disappointed by your attitude towards consensual incest.", Octavia told her.
Fhimra shuddered slightly at the words "consensual incest", making Octavia gasp and turn away crossly.
Fhimra followed Octavia as she crossly walked back to Owner Wendy, but Fhimra then ran away again when she noticed that Owner Wendy was still pegging Luke.
What the hell was Fhimra's problem, this wasn't pedophilia or something, everyone was over 300 and consenting!
Fhimra was just being a massive bigoted prude!
***…
(Note, I'm not actually trying to say that I personally condone incest, the views of the characters do not necessarily reflect the views of the writer.)