Editing Sister of Nurgle (section)

==Chapter I==

Apphia woke from a disturbing and impure dream that was now only beginning to fade. She felt unclean in both body and mind; she was covered in sweat and the sheets clung to her wetly. 

Her other Sisters would start with prayers or possibly self-flagellation every morning, to purge themselves. They were both good, but one could not be pure without a thoroughly clean body. She disentangled herself from the bedsheets and stretched in front of the elegant full body mirror. Her defined muscles blended seamlessly with her athletic form, with the swell of her ample breasts perfectly complemented her light frame, giving her a feline beauty that few could match. Short white hair framed her face, highlighting her aristocratic features and hard obsidian eyes; this, her flat stomach and chiseled legs, from wearing heavy amour, gave her the look of a lethal and alluring warrior. After studying her reflection for a few moments she made her way to the bathroom; she couldn't forget her morning enema, but right now she only wanted to shower.

As the burning hot water washed over her she slowly rubbed her body with soap, taking care to cover every spot and letting her enjoy the sensual experience. The very strictest Sisters would eschew such practices, but even they had their own twisted kinks. All Sisters had their little pleasures; Apphia's were fairly mild for her rank. What was wrong with taking a longer shower and letting her hands wander?

She slowly rubbed the suds over her toned and lithe body. Making sure to slowly stimulate her sensitive spots with nimble hands. She devoted most of her attention to her clit; she abstained from inserting her fingers in her fundament. Other Sisters did, but she never was highly aroused by it. Two fingers began to slowly circle, the circle drawing closer with each revolution and increasing in speed. The pleasure was intense as she reached her climax. She would not normally allow herself this luxury of taking cleansing showers so often and so long, but circumstances were different. She reached for more cleansing fluid to make sure her entire body was clean before she left the showering unit. She let her hands wander again; she still had some time to kill.

Apphia had been taking more showers than was usual even for her. This whole planet was worthless. Covered in swamps and decay, the constant showers were the only way she could deal with it. The former monastery, in which they were stationed, was built on solid ground but even here it was still unbearable; the air alone was nauseating. 

But even worse was the fact that her battle squad had been assigned to serve as an escort for Orders Hospitaller. Some of them enjoyed cleanliness and purity, but most were content to deal with all the filth and uncleanness. They debased themselves by letting the grime live, nurturing it. 

There were some suspicions of a Nurgle cult, who often caused outbreaks like this but the planetary governor only had enough pull to warrant those who were nearby. The small monastery had been commandeered to serve as a makeshift hospital. It was an unfeeling gesture, her forces were insufficient to do anything but barely protect this corner.

Apphia's quarters were currently one of the larger prayer chambers. It was spartanly decorated and somewhat too small for her liking but it would have to do. Being in the same building as the diseased was torture though. If she had had her way, she would have let the diseased, who were coming here in ever-greater numbers, face the wrath of her blessed flamer; the promethium would cleanse them and their souls would be free from corruption. Sadly, none were in such a grievous state, forcing her to do nothing but stay in her room and keep clean, or keep a look out (but that would mean having to deal with tides of the sick and ill). At least she didn’t have to, and she gave a shudder at the mere thought, assist her lower healing sisters and try to "cure" the infected hordes. 

If a Nurgle cult was really involved, they could do no good here. There were only twelve other Adeptus Sororitas protecting the monastery, they could hold off a full-blown cult for a while, but eventually the last bolter rounds would be fired and the promethium would run dry, while the infection continued to spread. And if there was no cult (and this turned out to be a simple outbreak), their presence was wasted here. 

Her Sisters were keeping watch, sparing her from having to deal with the trash outside. She pitied them, but there were some benefits of being a sister superior; and this allowed her to pass away the time with the pursuit of pleasure. She stepped out of the shower and dried herself off, as she did so her gilded chrono chimed. Apphia looked at it, only three hours had passed since she awoke. Through the stained-glass window, she saw only the depressing visage of fog and swamp.

She felt a cramp in her gut; shit was beginning to painfully build up. Damn, she thought, she had gotten so caught up in her cleansing that she had forgotten her morning enema. As she sat on the ornate commode, she felt the pieces of shit slowly inch past her anus. The smell began to hit her, noxious and sickening; to feel each piece of filth that left her was  degrading. She had finally pushed the last piece of shit out; this experience was a reminder to keep to her schedule. She sealed the commode and made her way to the shower again. She would keep it quick this time, but afterwords she would have some fun.

Freshly washed and clad only in a loose robe, she called for her newest Servitor. She had picked this one up five months ago, but with her downtime she finally had a chance to have some fun with her. On an earlier mission she had encountered a young and supple psyker, her skin was creamy underneath blazing red hair. She took pity on this nubile young psyker and, transformed into a mindless Servitor, her body was too fine to waste by just burning it. Now Apphia would let the body suffer for her previous sins. The Servitor appeared before her; the machinery was recessed and did nothing to distract from what lay before her, Apphia licked her lips in anticipation. For the moment the Servitor was wearing a simple silk robe, so light it was nearly transparent, it barely obscured the young and tender body. 

Leaving the young pysker, she turned around and opened a finely decorated box, in it was a monstrous double-headed phallus attached to a complex leather harness. It was a tool of punishment, along it ran a variety of spikes and hooks, wickedly shaped and stained from previous uses; the other half was designed for pleasure, a true tool of the Adeptus Sororitas. She slowly let her robe open and strapped on the tool. 

“''Get on your knees,''” Apphia commanded sternly. The tone was unnecessary, but she felt it lent the proper air to the occasion.

The Servitor obeyed and with a brush of her hand Apphia removed the girl's robe, taking a moment to enjoy the exposed view. She grasped the shapely buttocks, and positioned the head of the barbed phallus against the tight, virgin asshole...