Mind Games Pt. 01

"By the Emperor, Nicodemus, can you stop gloating for long-enough to actually do something?"

"Oh, sorry. Let me just use my 'blasphemous parlor tricks" to turn back time so that I can warn you not to go this way. Oh, wait, I DID tell you not to. Remind me again what it is you said."

"Nicodemus, we don't have time for this."

"I think it was something like 'We have no need for your blasphemous parlor tricks, heretic. I'm totally sure that just praying really hard and having ridiculous haircuts will save us from this entire horde of Tyranids that we just walked right up to.'"

Living ammunition slammed into the crumbling masonry that sheltered the psyker and three remaining Sisters of Battle. There must have been a few hundred assorted beasts arrayed against the dwindling squad, from a mob of lowly termagants to a pair of mighty carnifexes. The horde advanced slowly, unconcerned or possibly entirely unaware of the meager casualties they sustained from the sporadic bursts of fire from the Sisters' bolt guns.

"How were we supposed to know that that distress call was a trap?"

"I don't know, because I told you that I could sense no living humans, present company excluded, within thirty kilometers? Maybe because there was no way that anyone but the Emperor Himself could still be alive at the epicenter of the infestation?"

"For the love of the Emperor, will you stop complaining and put that warp-fouled brain of yours to use?"

"Of course, I'll just shoot them with my fucking mind bullets, why didn't I think of that? Oh wait, I'm a telepath, Sila. I can't do that. Would you like me to attempt diplomacy?"

Sila prayed for forgiveness as the psyker rambled and cursed. Two of her Sisters had fallen moments ago, presumably dead and digested. If she had just heeded Nicodemus' advise, they may well still be alive. She had been ordered to treat the psyker as one of her own, yet the Sister Superior allowed her zeal and ingrained prejudice to cloud her better judgment. Now, because of her incompetent leadership, they would all die in this Emperor-forsaken hive.

She took a moment to check on her remaining Sisters, confirming the precariousness of their situation. Atella was down to her last magazine and Mae, who had just been ordained a few days ago, looked as though she was on the verge of tears. Nicodemus, for his part, looked about as crazed as usual. As their leader, their lives were in her hands. She struggled to form a plan, but the weight of guilt and long-denied fear of death paralyzed her.

"Sila, I have an idea."

The psyker's voice snapped her back to reality, the noise of battle returning with a startling roar.

"With enough power, I can temporarily disrupt their synapses and throw the horde into chaos. They will still be dangerous, but they should lack the coordination to give organized pursuit. If we act quickly, we may be able to escape before they can reorganize."

"There are hundreds, if not thousands of them; there is no way that you have that much power."

"There are...certain methods I can use. It's not exactly safe, but-"

"You can't do that! If your powers go wild-"

"We die? Yeah, I'm pretty sure that that's going to happen either way. It's our only chance. I'm going to give you gals a head start, but I'm going to do it whether you run or not. You have five seconds before I start glowing and shooting fire out of my eyes."

With a nod, Sila and her squad took off as quickly as their power armored legs could carry them. Adrenaline and fear fueled their escape, though none could say whether the fear came more from the horde of ravenous beasts or the mostly normal human who was probably about to explode into a soul-searing fireball of otherworldly energy. She chanced but a mere glance back, her last sight of the psyker obscured by a growing ball of baleful purple light that cast unnatural, twisted shadows. At least that answered which she was more afraid of.

The Battle Sisters tore around the corner of the ruined street, desperate to put as much distance between themselves and the impeding disaster as possible. Their feet pounded the ruined pavement, the cratered and scorched ground shattering under their weight. Around them lay nothing but rubble, the aftermath of a week-long bombardment from the PDF's mobile artillery corps. Even without any discernible landmarks, Sila's auto-navigator plotted the fastest route to their predetermined rally point, 7.9km away and firmly inside Imperial territory.

They were probably well outside the range of the enemy's bio-sensors, but there was no reason to slow down. An ambush could come from anywhere at any time, particularly on the outskirts of battle where lictors and genestealers preferred to hide in wait. She scanned every patch of rubble, both with her eyes and her infra-vision sensors and knew that her Sisters were doing the same. No foe, visible or invisible, could approach from air or ground without their knowledge.

Each step brought them closer to safety, a mere 3.5km of open road separating them from their rendezvous point. Despite the relatively easy terrain, Sila briefly lost her footing, staggering forward as she reached out to her sisters to stabilize herself against their armored bulk. Her hands found nothing but air where she knew her squad mates to be, though that was soon to be the lowest concern on her mind. She was falling. Not to, but rather through the ground as she watched the road crumble and crater around her, sinking as though pulled down from below. The startled screams of her fellow sisters directed her vision straight down to something she would rather not have seen.

An enormous, spined biomorph hung below her, its chitinous talons grasping the edges of the hole through which she had just fallen. It was easily 30m long, its body twisted into hanging coils like a snake. Its maw splayed open, four independent jaws connected by skin-like webbing and covered in countless teeth. From its throat came a thick mass of tentacles, the longest of which were already wrapped around the legs of the other Sisters, pulling them in. Sila acted quickly, detaching her mag-locked bolt gun with practiced ease. She was not quick-enough, however, and found herself disarmed a moment later as grasping tentacles closed around her body.

The beast's grip was tight and offered no movement as the Sister Superior struggled to escape its grasp. As she was pulled closer, an ever-growing host of tentacles sought to restrain her movement, covering every available inch of her power armor until she saw naught but black. She had already seen her squad mates disappear into the cavernous maw, their ultimate fate shrouded by the horrific mass of mouth parts. At the very least, she knew that they had avoided the beast's teeth and hoped that she would be as lucky. If it intended to swallow them alive, perhaps she had a chance to cut her way out from inside. She would find her answer soon as she felt her legs pinned together by the creature's throat.

Inch after inch of her slid down the beast's slick throat, a crushing pressure she could feel even through the thick ceramite plates that protected her from an untimely death. Its grip tightened as her waist was engulfed, its strength matching against her armor's and coming up the victor. So great was the pressure that it became increasingly difficult to breathe. Her armor splintered and cracked under the creature's assault, her helmet's warning lights and alarms informing her of nothing she could not already feel herself. Her vision grew dark as she fought for breath, already ingested up to her chest. With her arms pinned by her side and the servos of her power armor burnt out, her last line of defense was sure to become her sarcophagus. With a final prayer to the Emperor, Sila closed her eyes and waited to die.

Her awareness returned slowly, as though intentionally hiding from her situation. Sila knew little more than that she was not yet dead, and that she did not seem to be in the creature's stomach. Her skin was wet but cool and definitely not being digested. A slight, pulsing breeze against her skin confirmed that she was now without her armor and likely entirely naked. Every inch of her body throbbed in dull pain, particularly around her waist and chest. A sluggish mental inventory told her that she had likely broken at least a few ribs, but her lungs still seemed to be working perfectly fine, even if breathing deeply was incredibly painful.

A strange, fleshy warmth engulfed her arms and legs, restricting their movement. She struggled briefly, though her broken ribs quickly reminded her of their presence. She was too weak to move much anyway. With some effort, she forced her eyes open, straining against both the darkness and her growing headache. Dim red light revealed a world of wet, pulsating flesh. Her arms and legs disappeared into the wall, spreading her limbs into a rough "x" shape, leaving only her torso and head free. To her left, she could barely make out the full-bodied form of Atella, similarly bound and still unconscious. To her right lay the still-maturing Mae, breathing slowly in her bindings. Sila let out a sigh of relief. At the very least, they were still alive.

"Sister Superior?"

A weak voice pierced the silence of the room, turning her attention to the opposite side of the chamber. A cold chill ran down Sila's body as her mind recognized the voice. This had to be Hell. She must be dead and just now realizing it. There was no other way she could be hearing that voice.

"Sister Superior? Is that you?"

Sila answered reflexively, her body asking what her mind refused to.

"Clara? Are we dead?"

"I don't think so, Sister."

"But I watched you die! That swarm that covered you, split your armor-"

"I woke up here, just the same as you. I've been in and out for what felt like hours. I thought I heard your voice a moment ago, so I thought to check."

"Then you live? So only Maria and Nicodemus..."

"Maria is here as well. She was awake a while ago, but her injuries seem more severe and she hasn't spoken much. What happened to Nicodemus?"

"He bought us time to escape."

Silence descended once again upon the Sisters. The joy Sila felt at discovering her lost Sisters still alive was drowned out quickly by the memory of the psyker's sacrifice. If she had only listened to him, they would all be alive. He was the only one who had ever spoken against her command, only to die for her incompetence. She fought back tears, careful to not let Clara hear any weakness in her voice.

"Do you know what is going on? Have you seen anything?"

"Nothing but what you see now. I tried to free myself, but this...thing is holding on rather tightly."

Escape seemed impossible. All that was left was to wait. Sila had heard nothing of Tyranids ever taking prisoners, so this was entirely new to her. She was not even certain that they understood the concept of prisoners, though she had no other hypothesis as to why she was still alive. If anything, the prospect of being taken alive by an allegedly mindless horde was far more unsettling than her imminent death.

Time dragged on as Sila fought to stay awake in the cloying warmth of the living chamber. It had been so long since she had last fully removed her power armor that she had nearly forgotten what air felt like against her bare skin. She definitely did not remember her skin being so sensitive. She felt every pulse of her fleshy restraints and every rolling bead of sweat in fine detail, surprised to find her breath growing short as a drop perched upon her stiffening nipple.

She had little time to ponder the situation, her musings interrupted by a soft cry from left. The Superior called out softly to Atella, careful not to rouse the sleeping Sisters. She gave no response, just a series of silent coos similar to the first. In the near-total darkness, Sila could barely make out movement around the veteran Sister, the slow crawl of slithering flesh covering her lower body and slowly working its way up. Atella's cries grew more frequent and deeper until there was no question what was happening. She was being violated. The pulsing flesh stopped after it had reached her breasts, heaving in time with the sister's involuntary movement. Sila watched in stunned silence as her trusted subordinate squirmed and writhed, her moaning deafening in the silent cavern. She fought to look away but found herself transfixed, her body growing steadily hotter as her squad mate cried in rapture.

Sila shook her head, hoping to purge the unwelcome thoughts floating through her slowing mind. This wasn't her. There must be something in the air, or some poison seeping from the flesh that bound her. She was a fearless soldier of the God Emperor, not some sex-crazed cultist. Her breathing slowed and focus sharpened, years of training kicking in to insulate her mind from her growing arousal. It was becoming difficult to think, but she had no use for thoughts if she had her faith and her training. The comfortable fog settling over her mind was only a minor inconvenience. She needed to resist, for herself, her squad, and her Emperor.

Mae began to sigh in pleasure on her other side, clearly losing her own battle. Seconds later, the rest of the squad joined the chorus, filling the room with ecstatic moaning and the soft, wet sounds of penetration. Sila fought to contain her own voice, her lust mounting despite the lack of stimulation and her attempts to ignore the pulsing heat burning her skin. Her confidence faltered when she caught her thighs rubbing together, straining desperately against her living bonds to grant some relief from the stifling arousal.

She was at the end of her rope and knew it. Whatever toxin now flowed through her blood allowed no resistance. She couldn't maintain a coherent thought for longer than a few seconds and had no control over her twitching body. Her eyes stared forward without focus, useless in the dark. Her ears, however, felt more sensitive than ever, picking up every sigh and every gasp from the women around her. With the sounds of her defeated Sisters echoing in her mind, her feeble resistance finally faltered.

Sila gasped as some unknown appendage prodded her engorged and dripping slit. Its taper pressed gently against her sensitive folds at it split her open, spreading her walls as it inched inside. The length dripped with its own lubrication, sliding almost effortlessly into her sodden quim. It grew wider with every passing inch, stealing her breath as she was stretched far past her normal limits and with no end in sight.

At the same time, a myriad of thin tentacles slid slowly up her body, tickling her skin as she pushed her body into their touch. A small part of her mind screamed against her now-willing submission but was quickly silenced as the slimy appendages poked and prodded her sensitive breasts. The tentacles covered her entire body, teasing her with their light touches and whispered promises of more to come. One even dug into her naval, penetrating an erogenous zone she didn't even know she had.

The enormous protuberance that filled her cunt began to slowly twist and writhe, flailing mindlessly as if desperate to escape her scalding embrace. Less than a second later, Sila's body exploded in orgasm. Her knees shook as her body convulsed, her own screams only distantly acknowledged by her overwhelmed mind. The tentacle continued to thrash inside her, fighting against the rhythmic contractions of her over-filled sex. She writhed and screamed until out of breath, only then falling limp as aftershocks tore through her weakened body.

Her sudden climax brought with it a moment of clarity in which Sila fought against her growing exhaustion and lustful haze to take stock of the situation. She was truly helpless. She had lost once already to overwhelming pleasure and knew that it would happen again. Any resistance would be smoothed away with aphrodisiacs until she was begging to be filled. The afterglow of her heart-stopping orgasm faded quickly, chased out by despair. The tentacle inside her had stopped some time ago, as if tormenting her with the knowledge that she would soon be begging for it to continue.

The Sister Superior ground her hips shamelessly against her tentacled lover, seeking escape from her guilt just as much as carnal pleasure. All around her, the other Sisters writhed and shook as orgasm after orgasm robbed them of thought and resistance, blessedly oblivious of their situation. She silently begged to join them, to cast her shame into a dark corner of her mind and to lose herself in the mindless pleasure the mysterious Tyranid beast so freely provided.

As if in response to her voiceless pleas, Sila felt a foreign presence press against her lips. She opened her mouth to the strange appendage, every speck of resistance long drained from her exhausted body. The well-lubricated tentacle slid into her mouth before pushing its way down her throat, unimpeded by her involuntary gagging and choking. She could feel her throat bulge as the intruder dove deeper, its progress clearly visible as her neck distended to accept its girth.

Despite the slimy obstruction, her breath came normally, albeit rapidly as fear and arousal vied for control of her overwhelmed mind. The air felt different somehow, thicker and warmer than it should have been, yet somehow reassuring. Her gagging ceased almost immediately, the burning nerves of her throat falling silent and leaving only a vague impression of fullness. Each breath further calmed her racing mind, slowing her thoughts to a crawl as rapidly building lust banished her guilt and shame. Whatever strange toxin filled the air and ignited her arousal was now being pumped directly into her lungs.

Sila breathed deeper and faster, nearly hyperventilating as she gulped down breath after breath of the potent aphrodisiac. The sensual heat she so craved returned in force, the concentrated poison pushing her arousal well past ordinary human limitations. Within seconds, her body teetered on the edge of orgasm, her over-filled sex leaking a steady stream of mixed lubricants as her inner walls contracted of their own accord. Despite her arousal, the biomorph showed no signs of granting her release, its myriad tentacles unmoving, waiting for some unknown signal to resume their relentless stimulation of her achingly sensitive body.

Instead, Sila was finding it more and more difficult to breathe until the steady supply of air coming from the Tyranid creature stopped completely. Her body seized briefly in panic until the concentrated aphrodisiacs coursing through her blood suppressed the burning pain in her lungs. Her skin grew hotter as she fought for breath, instinct clashing with her chemical stupor. The moment her vision started to darken, the tentacles that covered and filled her body began to move.

Unable to so much as whimper, the Sister Superior could do little but shake and thrash as her body was overwhelmed by sensation. Her oxygen-deprived mind reeled, unable to fully process the violent stimulation. Her head grew light as her entire existence reduced to the coursing pleasure bursting forth from her convulsing pussy, the rest of her body numbing as her consciousness faded. As blackness filled her vision, climax gripped her body.

Her muscles burned, oxygen-deprived yet straining to the point of pain against her living restraints, her broken ribs making themselves known for the first time since her violation began. On the brink of wakefulness, she felt every fine detail of the smooth appendage vibrating inside her quivering sex. After a final, desperate gasp, air once again flooded her burning lungs. Air was the least of Sila's concerns, however, as another shot of extra-concentrated aphrodisiac seeped into her blood.