Editing Sister of Nurgle (section)

==Chapter III==

As the long journey continued, Apphia slipped back into her memories. She remembered that several weeks later she had received an invitation from the Canoness. Knowing full well the penalty for refusing, she quietly ascended into the inner sanctum at the designated time.

A large wooden door had stood before her separating the personal quarters of the Cannoness Commander Mara from the rest of the inner sanctum. She had knocked three times and the door had opened shortly after. Entering, all she could see at first were the dripping candles that dimly lit the room and threw flickering, dancing shadows across the walls.

“''Ah, Apphia, are you prepared?''”

The Canoness was lying on her bed, barely clothed in a flowing silk garment. Her looks were mature, though her beauty was well preserved. Her oiled and muscular frame glistened in the soft candlelight. Years of service to the Emperor left her with scars that ran across her body, pock marking her skin. Her face was hard; she had seen many years of ruthless combat.

“''Yes, Mother.''”

Apphia trembled; she knew not what lay before her. Mara rose from the bed and sealed the door. Walking gracefully over, she disrobed Apphia and let her hands reach towards her bosom. The fingers were surprisingly gentle as they embraced Apphia. She was in a state of shock, of such gentleness from the woman who, she had seen to be so brutal.

“''Lie down on the bed...''”

Apphia thoughtlessly obeyed. The Cannoness's voice, though soft at the moment, carried power and authority that betrayed her years. The covers were of fine cloth the feeling was very different than the materials used for the beds of her fellow Sisters. She was pushed down by the Cannoness. Mara was experienced and within moments, Apphia was drowning in pleasure. Even when she had the luck to find herself in the center of a Sister orgy, there was no comparison to the expert ministrations of Mara.

And now as she brought her tongue to probe her fundament, deft strokes left Apphia panting as she struggled to breathe. She had never felt anything like this before and, as she reached climax after climax, pleasure filled her and...she felt nothing else. Without warning, Mara stopped. The sudden absence of euphoria came as a shock.

“''Mother, will you not continue?''”

“''Patience, my child. I have need of your services now. To receive but not to give is a sin, child.''”

“''I am yours, Mother.''”

Mara gave a laugh.

“''Oh, child. How it pleases me to hear that.''”

Mara repositioned herself so that her womanhood was brought to Apphia's face

“''Child, I must relieve myself. Drink my gift.''”

Before Apphia could reply, the amber liquid streamed into to Apphia's open mouth. The warmness and slightly sweet flavor with odd aftertastes surprised her. Mara seemed to be in great pleasure; the submission of Apphia aroused her. The last drops splattered on her face.

“''My child, you have shown yourself to be worthy. But your enthusiasm is greater than your discipline. We must work on that, you don't want to make the same mistake as Lydia did, do you?''"

“''No, Mother,''” said Apphia with a shudder.

“''Good, then return the pleasure.''”

Apphia obediently began to lick the nether regions of her Canoness, she was not skilled in oral pleasure but she did her best. Mara smiled, Apphia was unskilled but she would teach her. Mara thrust her hips forward and began to grind it in Apphia's face. This was much better. But she was not cruel; Mara's hand slipped into Apphia's cleft and returned some of her pleasure. This continued for what seemed like an eternity to Apphia; Mara's nimble and experienced hand left her in the throes of ecstasy, but the roughness of this act added another dimension to the experience, she had never felt anything that was this extreme before.

Mara sensed that she had utterly exhausted the poor girl. Her stamina was pathetic, but it could be worked on. The key point was that Apphia was a willing and pious sister, so young and inexperienced. She loved playing with them, but Apphia was special; she could mold her.

Apphia left the room. Clad once more in her light robe, she had trouble descending down the stairs to the shared quarters of initiates. She still felt drained from the multiple orgasms which had consumed her body throughout the whole night. The Canoness had amazing stamina.

The Canoness was strong and brutal at times, but she had also shown herself to be gentle and caring in her own way. Apphia wondered what might have happened had she not been so pious and submissive. She could have ended up like poor Lydia; after she had been healed she had been dragged down to the dungeons to remove all taints of heresy. Her screams had been heard for months. And yet for some reason Apphia had wished she could be punishing Lydia and showing her the path of the righteous.

The strained whine of the engines disrupted her reminiscence and, with a slight bump, she felt the ship touch the ground.

They were here.

This was no time for remembering the past. Her mind had to be clear and focused. She was ready to lead her Sisters into battle; her flamer was filled with promethium and her bolt pistol stood at the ready.

Apphia walked down the ramp with her sisters following. The Guardsmen were nervous with their lasguns at the ready; she saw no purpose for their presence other than for the planetary governor trying to impress them. She could see their fear and they would have ran at the first sign of trouble had it not been for her presence. They had heard the stories of the fanatical daughters of the Emperor who would slay all those who would threaten him. Apphia decided, they could be used as bait, as she left the ramp.

The engines whirred back to full power and the Valkyries rose off. They would return if needed. She pressed the rune of activation on her auspex. There was odd activity ahead. She advanced into the swamp. The filthy water was befouling her clean armor. She would stay dry, but it pained her to see it in this state.

Her auspex started to encounter interference. It was as if some unholy force was nearby, clasping it back on her belt. She strode forward with weapons drawn.

A rustling of the trees put her on alert. She was a veteran, serving for many years. In battle, she was without peer among her many sisters. Apphia knew in a couple of years that once she advanced to the proper age, she would become an honored older Sister and hold ever-greater authority. But, more importantly, she would hold access to all but the deepest dungeons; but now was not time for self-indulgence.

The swamps surrounding them began to bubble as if something was rising out of the depths. She saw bloated bodies, thoroughly infested, maggots writhing from open wounds and fungus ridden, rising up to attack. Partially infected cultists burst from the undergrowth. They were not mindless yet like their swamp-dredged cousins, but would soon be there.

Apphia cried a battle hymn with her Sisters taking up the shout. Her bolt pistol let loose rounds which buried themselves in the infected and exploded shortly thereafter. The effect was marvelous, causing fragments of the target to rain down. Seven of her sisters answered the call. The holy sounds of bolter fire and the wet thump of the rounds hitting echoed through the swamp. In response, the other two Sisters used their flamers, burning promethium cleansing all that it touched. Apphia's other hand held a compact flamer; it was not as powerful as a normal one, but it still purged the heretics with ease.

The cultists were dropping. The Sisters were victorious. Only a few Guardsmen remained. Some had run off, others fell to the cultists with several being mowed down by the overenthusiastic Sisters. The last few cultists ran off, but something was amiss. The air seemed to turn over itself as the very fabric of reality appeared to ripple. Things seemed to warp and bulge as all sounds stopped. Nothing moved for what seemed like an eternity until Apphia realized with a growing sense of dread what was happening. Her greatest fears were true; this was not just a cult. They had gained the eye of Nurgle.

Sickening images appeared in the air before them. These were true forces of Chaos, warped beyond belief and barely held together. But these paled before the sight that towered above them. It was a Greater Daemon of Nurgle. The skin was ripped and falling apart with its organs spilling out and all manner of scourges graced its skin. In its hand it held a mighty blade from which a pestilent green dripped. It effortlessly swiped through the air, slicing clean through four Sisters. The daemons ran forward, hoping to quickly finish them off. Apphia charged forward, smashing her way through the endless ranks before her. If she could manage to destroy that festering mountain of plagues, the daemons would lose their grip on this world and fade back to the hellish Warp.

With a furious cry, she charged the Greater Daemon. Apphia would stop the spread of filth and Chaos if it was the last thing she would do...