Excessively Vanilla

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The following article is a /tg/ related story or fanfic. Should you continue, expect to find tl;dr and an occasional amount of awesome.
This article contains PROMOTIONS! Don't say we didn't warn you.

A tale of the one time Slaanesh goes full-on vanilla, including actual marriage, handholding, and under the cover missionary sex for the sole purpose of procreation.

The Story[edit]

Hive Saba was on fire. Its defenses had finally broken before the forces of Chaos, and it would only be a matter of time before every living soul that lived there either died or suffered a fate that would make them wish they had. Men, women, children, mutants, non-mutants, scum, arbites, noble, none were spared from this. The streets all the way up to the tallest spire were filled with debris, bodies, and everything else in-between. The only “safe” way out was suicide, and there were some nobles doing just that. Lord Galindus was one of them.

“Where the hell does he keep it?!” panicked Galindus as he tore apart his father’s study in the search for the gun he knew his father kept. Galindus himself was a fairly well-built man with ashen hair in his early twenties. Though he had never stepped even a single toe outside the cushy life afforded to a nobleborn, he wasn’t the type of noble who grew fat on excess. His father had drilled that into him from an early age. His physique was a testament to that. However, none of that would save him from the cultists currently trying to break down the study door.

“Emperor damn it! Where the fuck is it?!”

The door to the study cracked and then splintered as six cultists finally made it through the thick oak wood. Galindus, driven by fear and adrenaline, picked up the nearest object (a chair) and attempted to defend himself. He managed to knockdown one of his assailants but soon the other five had him pinned up against the wall.

“I’ll… I’ll do whatever you want!” he exclaimed, positively terrified. “Just don’t… Just don’t…”

The cultist that he’d sent to the floor picked themselves up. All six of the heretics were wearing robes that were somewhere between pink and purple. On the front of each was a black, profane symbol that made Galindus’ eyes hurt just looking at it. He had no idea what it was, and he would have traded anything to not find out. It was hard to tell the gender of any of the six, whose appearances wildly varied otherwise.

“Hold him still,” commanded what Galindus was guessing was the leader. As the five struggled to do so, the leader stepped forward and began to inspect Galindus both with eyes and by touch. The cultist deliberately avoided any erogenous zones (much to Galindus’ relief) but did make it a point to stare into his eyes and probe the elasticity of his muscles. This went on for about two minutes, after which the leader stepped back and nodded. “This one will do. Bring him and prepare for the ceremony.”

“W-What ceremony?” questioned Galindus as he suddenly found a black bag being slipped over his head. He screamed to no avail. Then he felt himself being picked up and dragged from the room. He tried to flail wildly, to put up as much resistance as he could. Nothing worked. The fact he couldn’t see where he was being taken only made things worse. All Galindus could do was imagine what horrible things a “ceremony” could entail. Would they disembowel and quarter him? Would they flay him alive slowly? Would they torture and otherwise make him suffer? All of the above? It should be of no surprise that the poor, sheltered noble man started to cry.

Galindus lost track of time. The only senses he could use to connect with the outside world were hearing and touch. He could hear a vehicle’s door being opened and subsequently felt himself being deposited inside. The door slammed closed, then he felt the vehicle moving.

“Where are you taking m-me?” stammered Galindus.

A different voice of the leader’s answered. “You should count yourself lucky. You have been chosen for a great purpose.”

“W-What is that supposed to mean?”

His question went unanswered. Galindus then felt hands beginning to undo his clothes. For one terrible moment that seemed to last forever, he thought that he was about to be raped right then and there. He was so paralyzed by fear that the only thing he could do was silently scream in his head. He felt cool air as every shred of cloth was removed from him. Then he felt the telltale hands of someone trying to dress him with lavish silks. It was a familiar feeling, as he’d usually have a servant do so in the mornings. Still, this only made things worse in his mind. They’re dressing me up as a sacrifice, he thought. That has to be it.

The leader spoke after this process was done. “That will suffice,” they said. “They will be pleased with him. But first, we need to know something.” The voice got closer. “Tell me, noble, what is your preference? Man, Woman, or something in-between?”

Galindus wasn’t sure if he’d heard right. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

A small sigh came from the leader. “Whom do you lay with?”

“I… I’ve never lain with anyone. But what does that matter?!”

“Choose,” said the leader with a forceful tone.

“W-Well a woman, of course!”

The voice retreated and whispered something inaudible. Without any further stimulation, the rest of the ride seemed to stretch on forever for Galindus. It was an eternity later when the vehicle finally came to a stop and he felt himself being manhandled again. He was dragged from the car, made to walk for about two minutes, then told to stand still. With a sharp yank, the bag was removed from his head. He looked around, supremely surprised both with where he was and what he seemed to be wearing.

Galindus had never been to this part of the spire before but he knew a chapel of the Imperium when he saw it. Strangely this building seemed untouched compared to its surroundings, as if deliberately kept pristine for some unknown reason. Further compounding this bit of confusion was the fact he seemed to be dressed in a well-fitting, purple tuxedo complete with bowtie.

“You… you’ve brought me to a church?” he asked to no one in particular.

The leader answered, “Yes. Now get inside. She is waiting for you at the altar. Don’t even think about running or saying anything but ‘yes’ once we begin. If you do the punishment will be worse than you could possibly imagine. Are we clear?”

For one brief moment, Galindus seriously considering trying to make a break for it. At least if he was shot in the back death would be instant, right? But the threat of further violence was enough to keep him in line. “Y-Yes.”

The leader nodded and then snapped his fingers at his comrades. The six of them moved to the chapel’s double doors and opened them, three to the side. Inside, Galindus could see that the place was packed with other cultists, all wearing the same robes as the ones outside. All of the Imperial Iconography had been covered by Chaos symbology. Even the main altar had a drape over it with the symbol found on the cultist’s robes. What really caught his attention, though, was the woman waiting for him at the altar.

Even at this distance, the woman was unmistakably beautiful. She was clad in a white wedding dress the hugged the curves of her lithe body leaving little to the imagination. Her veil was up, revealing eyes of sparkling lavender and an angled, yet smooth, face. Her waist-long, golden hair was done up in an elaborate, high-backed ponytail held in place by a purple rose. Then Galindus noticed her horns. There were six in all, each rising from equidistant points about her head. The front two curved straight up and back, while the middle pair were more like frills and the back couple stuck out to either side curling in on themselves. She was, without a doubt, so unnaturally perfect that Galindus wondered if he was dreaming.

That thought was quickly banished when organ music started playing. Galindus had been to plenty of weddings before, but was surprised to hear the typical “Here Comes the Bride” being played. Before he could do much else, he was pushed forward by a cultist behind him to get him walking towards the altar. All eyes were upon him, some faces contorted in absolute delight while others were obscured beneath their hoods. Galindus’ legs felt like they could give out at any moment, yet somehow he made it to the altar. As he arrived, the woman turned and smiled at him.

“Well hello there,” she said sweetly. Her voice was like rich honey spread across audible satin. “You must be Galindus. I’m so glad you’re here.”

He gulped. Now that he was up close, he found her even more attractive. Her face was perfectly framed by a few strands of golden hair that had been deliberately left out of her ponytail. Her eyes were framed by dark eyeliner and her lipstick was of a similar color. And to top it all off she smelled of a fresh rose after a rain. “How do you know my name?” asked Galindus as he appreciated her stunning radiance up close. A nagging voice in his head told him to try running for it, that this horned woman was dangerous. Yet between the earlier threat and the fact he was now in rather good company he found himself repressing that voice.

The woman giggled musically into her hand. “I know a lot about you, actually. About how you’ve lived such a sheltered life, even for a nobleborn. But don’t worry, I’ll teach you all that you need to know~”

“I don’t quite follow-”

A cough to Galindus’ left almost caused him to jump out of his clothes. He started and turned to see that one of the cultists had slid in between the altar and both Galindus and the woman. “May I begin, Mistress?” the cultist asked in pure reverence to the woman.

“You may, though feel free to skip a bit.”

The cultist bowed his head low. “As you wish, Mistress.” Then he produced a thick tome bound by leather that bore the same symbol as everything else had up to this point and began reading to the entire assembly:

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of our Mistress, and in the face of their company, to join together this Man and this Daemon in unholy Matrimony. Into this unholy estate these two individuals present now come to be joined. If any individual can show just cause why they may not be joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

There was a pause, during which time Galindus felt like objecting himself. A daemon? Unholy matrimony? This was starting to sound more and more like just an elaborate way to kill him off. This wasn’t an actual marriage ceremony, right? Right?

It seemed that the appropriate amount of time for objection had passed, for the officiator resumed speaking. As he did, the woman took Galindus’ hands in her own and squeezed them lovingly. All the while she looked back at him with eyes that belonged to someone who was madly in love and had been for quite some time. Part of him was confused: what had he done to deserve this? The other reasoned that if he truly was being married off, at least it was to a lass like this. He wasn’t really thinking straight for several reasons, and was truly caught up in the moment.

"My Mistress,” said the officiator. “Do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in unholy matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

The woman answered, “I do.”

The cultist nodded and looked to Galindus. “Galindus, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in unholy matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

This is it, he thought. EIther I say yes and wed this girl, or I’m sure I’ll be cut down in seconds. If I’m lucky. He took one long look into the woman’s eyes, then made his decision.

“I do.”

The woman beamed and squeezed his hands even tighter. Not painfully so, but enough to communicate her excitement.

Turning back to the woman, the officiator said, “Please repeat after me, my Mistress. ‘I, Slaanesh, take you Galindus, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.’"

The room seemed to spin when the cultist uttered the name “Slaanesh,” as if a sudden weight had pressed down across the area. But it was so fleeting a sensation that Galindus thought he’d imagined it. At least until it happened again when Slaanesh spoke.

“I, Slaanesh,” she purred like a cat on top of a radiator. “Take you Galindus, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

“Very good. Galindus, please repeat after me. ‘I, Galindus, take you Slaanesh, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.’"

He did so, making sure not to trip over his words. Interestingly, the room did not spin when he said the woman’s name. Yet he didn’t have long to contemplate this before the officiator moved on.

“My Mistress, I believe you have the rings, yes?”

“I do indeed.” With a snap of her fingers, two rings materialized from the warp into her waiting hand. Both rings were made of an extremely dark metal that had volcanic-like veins running through it. Set into the band were glittering prismatic gems that seemed to shine with an inner light. She slipped one into Galindus’ left hand and then took his right. As she slid the ring onto his finger, she said, "I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love." Then in a lower voice she whispered, “Just say what comes to mind as you put mine on, honey~”

He looked down at his new ring, at the matching one in his hand, and then back at Slaanesh. Taking her hand gently, he shakily put it on. “I give you this ring as a token and um, pledge, of the fact that I would really much rather be married to you than be dead.”

Slaanesh snickered, but in a way that suggested she was laughing at his attempt at humor rather than at him specifically. It seemed the officiator only had another few lines to say after this. “If you two would join hands.” They did. “By virtue of the authority vested in me under the eyes of our Mistress, I now pronounce you husband and wife." Then specifically to Slaanesh he said, “You may now kiss the groom.”

She leaned forward towards Galindus, lips licking in eagerness. “I know this is your first kiss, husband. So I’ll try to make it one you never forget~”

Her lips met his, followed by a light probing of his mouth by her tongue. Galindus’ eyes widened as he tried touching his tongue to hers. For a single instant, it was as if every pleasure receptor fired in his body at once. Then the feeling when gone, replaced by tingling as the sensitive flesh of his tongue scraped against hers. Slaanesh was more than happy to lead the dance, and Galindus was more than happy to let her lead. Especially if it meant feeling something like that again. Before he could, however, the entire congregation erupted in cheers and applause. The married pair withdrew from each other’s mouths (much to Galindus’ regret) and the officiator made them face the crowd.

“I now present to you the newly married couple, Slaanesh and Galindus.”

Somehow the revelry got even more intense. Cultists were crying, hollering, and generally being excessively loud as they expressed their approval. This went on for a minute or so before Slaanesh turned and leaned in so as to whisper into his ears. “This is the part where you pick me up and carry me across the threshold so we can consummate our marriage~”

Galindus turned to her and nodded. Lifting heavy things was something he did every day, but Slaanesh was surprisingly light. The moment he picked her up, though, his entire world melted and shifted around him. It was supremely disorienting, and he had to momentarily close his eyes to avoid losing his balance (and his lunch). When he opened them again he was aghast to find they were not where they had been.

Somehow the newlyweds had been transported to a vanilla-colored bedroom. The bed itself was shaped like a vanilla orchid, complete with six petals branching off from the center. There a beyond-king-size bed lay with off-white pillows of all shapes and sizes strewn across it. Every single other surface in the room was covered by candles (vanilla-scented, of course) and sticks of vanilla incense. These candles were the only source of light in the room, casting it in a sort of twilight.

“Where… where are we?” Galindus asked as he took in the myriad of senses bombarding him.

Slaanesh giggled and slipped down from his arms. “We’re in one of my special bedrooms in the Palace of Pleasure. You should feel honored, dear husband. You’re somewhere that no other being, mortal or otherwise, has or will ever have the chance to see.”

“I uh, see?”

With another laugh, she twirled on the spot, letting her white dress fan out around her. Watching her was like watching the most masterful and moving dancer in slow motion. Or so it seemed to Galindus. Coming to a stop, Slaanesh gently took his hand and began pulling Galindus towards the bed. “Come. I think you’ll like this next part quite a bit.”

He let himself be brought right up to the edge of the bed. Slaanesh took a seat and motioned for him to seat next to her. As he did, he found himself anxiously admitting, “I… I’m a virgin you know. I haven’t even held a girl’s hand before today. I’m so overwhelmed right now that I-”

Slaanesh put a finger on his lips, silencing him. “Shhh. That’s okay. It’s why I picked you. But here, let’s start with this.” She picked up his hand with hers, then intertwined their fingers at eye level. “How does this feel?”

Galindus considered his words for a moment. “It’s… really nice. Like a miniature hug with someone.”

Her eyes sparkled at that. “It is nice, isn’t it? Let’s add a little something more though~”

Suddenly Galindus found himself under a tongue-based assault in his mouth. He let out a yelp of surprise into her mouth, but quickly melted in her masterful lead. It wasn’t just him, though. Soon both of their breaths grew hot and ragged. All the while, the pair held hands, pressing against each other and causing their palms to grow moist.

Midway through this exercise, Slaanesh unentwined her fingers from his. With her now-free hand, she gently took Galindus’ and guided it to her right breast. He may have been completely inexperienced but instinct told him he should squeeze. When he did the most arousing sound ever to meet mortal ears erupted from Slaanesh.

“Help me out of my dress,” she moaned and panted like a bitch in heat. “Then we’ll do you.”

Galindus withdrew somewhat and watched as Slaanesh stood and presented her back to him. There he found her dress’ zipper, which he carefully undid so as not to damage the garment. Moments later, the cloth fell to the floor revealing the full glory of the woman he’d been “forced” to marry. Her skin was absolutely perfect without so much as a single blemish. As she turned, he saw that her perky tits were just slightly more than a handful, nipples erect. His gaze lowered, and soon he found himself viewing the first real life pussy in his life. The vulva was perfectly sculpted, a sort of clamshell. A tuft of well-kept, dark hair lay just above where he guessed her clit was. Finally, but certainly not least, he realized Slaanesh’s feet actually ended in purple-hued hooves.

He stared just a moment too long, or so it seemed, as Slaanesh poked him on the nose. “Come on, stand up now.”

Galindus did just that. It was her turn to undress him, and like everything else up to this point she was a master at it. Soon he stood naked as the day he was born, his member already engorged and dripping precum. “Wonderful~” mused Slaanesh. “Do you know what to do from here~?”

He eyed the bed, Slaanesh, and then the bed again. “I think we get beneath the covers?”

“Ooo, wonderful idea. Come, Husband. Let us lay together.”

The pair of them laid down on the bed and then threw the covers over themselves. The sheets were made out of an impossibly smooth silk, so much so that the only competitor was the smooth skin of Slaanesh. “What now?” she breathed into his collarbone.

There was a pause as the two savored their loose embrace. Then Galindus responded by moving to get on top of her. It was supremely strange to him how his body seemed to know what to do on instinct alone. He lined up their pelvic areas, then looked to Slaanesh for approval. She nodded, pulling him down with her arms and instructing, “Come on inside, my dearest~”

Galindus slowly pushed into her. He found her folds had grown rather soaked, making it easy for his head to part them and slip even deeper. As Slaanesh’s love tunnel enveloped him, he found himself immediately tensing up as if on the verge of climax. Every nerve in his body was preparing for orgasm, yet it was being held at bay somehow. Looking to Slaanesh, he found his answer.

“This is even better than I’d imagined,” she whispered sensually, biting her lower lip in delight. I’ve dampened my powers as much as I dare, but I’m afraid any further movement and you’ll be shooting off like a fire house.” She moved up slightly so she could breathe right into his ear. “But that’s what I want. I want you to knock me up so much that I give birth to triplets. Spill your seed inside me to your heart’s content.”

The metaphysical wall holding Galindus from orgasm broke. He didn’t even realize he was cumming at first. But when the wave of pleasure hit him he cried out right into Slaanesh’s ear. If the tongue experience from earlier was a 5 on a 1 to 10 scale, this was easily an 11. His entire body trembled and convulsed as spurt after spurt spilled into her hungry womb. All the while he saw not but white and felt absolutely perfect pleasure.

When he finally came down from that high, Galindus found that he and Slaanesh were now spooning. His arms were wrapped around her while hers rubbed her stomach in delight.

“Ah~ Welcome back~” she said lovingly. “You’re quite the man, you know that? I’m definitely going to be pregnant now. It’s a shame you were kept so sheltered for all this time. Maybe I should have come sooner~”

“About that… could you explain what’s going on exactly? I mean, I expected Chaos cultists to sacrifice me, not give me the most mind-blowing experience any man could hope for.”

Slaanesh giggled, “Well for starters, you’ve just lain with one of the Big Four. But let’s discuss that while we do this…”

She squirmed in his arms, turning around so as to face him. Then she slowly took up his tongue with hers and began the process all over again.

---

Nine months to the day later, Safrax was born.