Sisters of Chaos

-Sister of Nurgle-

Introduction

The corrupted Sister Apphia walked across the battlefield. Scorched earth crunched sickly beneath her boots as she made her way among the scattered heaps of rotting and blessed dead.

Father Nurgle had been victorious in battle and now all that remained was to solidify his hold here, before moving onward to consume the entire planet. His daemons and cultists had made quick work of the pitiful planetary defense force. Already, the first steps were being taken to completely infest the planet. Spores and scourges rained down, infesting the ground with Nurgle's bounty. It pleased Apphia that this formerly desolate wasteland would soon be teeming with life.

Apphia still retained most of her former beauty, but her loveliness was only skin deep; beneath this shallow veneer she had been blessed and filled with gifts from Nurgle. She had a new purpose in life, spreading the blessings of her lord; it was a task that utterly consumed her.

The moans of a wounded mortal attracted her to a worthless guardsmen twitching weakly and gurgling in his own blood. It surprised her that this human had survived the fight untainted, but now she had a chance to bring another into the fold.

Apphia approached the guardsman; all he could do was look upon her with glazed eyes. Her face was clean and healthy, although her stolen armor was encrusted with filth, and all manner of scourges were nestled among it. The noble fleur-de-lis, symbol of the Sororitas, had been replaced by a pulsating mark of Nurgle. The overwhelming stench of death and decay billowed around her, trailing her with the perfume of her Father. The guardsman had begun to choke as soon as the fetid air had enveloped him.

A sickening grin twisted Apphia's face; she had found someone in need of her help. A single arm strengthened by her ‘father's’ gifts pushed the guardsman fast against the ground as she brought herself to straddle him. She bent down and raised his head, drawing the two closer until she was able to forcibly thrust her tongue into his mouth. He tried to offer resistance, but she almost choked him as putrid slime worked its way down his throat, forming painful lesions and sores wherever it touched.
Her tempo increased as he finally stopped resisting and gave in. She could already feel the first signs of deep infection forming. She lowered his head down and knew her first gift was appreciated. A first infection was a thing to be cherished and she hoped to make it memorable for him. Apphia had not appreciated hers at first, but that was before she had known her father's love.

Apphia opened the lower part of her filth-encrusted amour, exposing her grotesque and defiled womanhood to the cool morning air. It pulsated sickly as if it had a will of its own. It had been blessed by a greater unclean one of Nurgle and would no longer bare her young. Inside her womb new diseases festered for her to spread, a sick mockery of its former purpose.

The diseased and dying flesh of her nether region was covered with engorged pustules and weeping sores, noxious mucous dripping from her as her excitement grew.
She felt no joy from the act itself, but she knew it was a more intimate way to introduce him. He would soon understand the beauty and warmth of Nurgle. With her filthy claws she removed the crusted fabric of his clothes, letting her caress spores into his bare skin. She worked her way down, exposing his hardened phallus. The spores were doing their job well. She grasped it and let him penetrate. She felt the head pressing against more of her pustules, bursting several of them with each thrust. Apphia increased the tempo of her thrusting, preparing him for her coming climax. In her ecstasy of sharing her gift she undid her upper amour and began to fondle her bloated breasts. As she squeezed them, a pestilent secretion leaked from her nipples and splashed across his skin. The guardsman cried out in ever-greater pain as her ministrations continued. The pus ate away at his skin, further infecting him and bringing pleasure to Apphia. She increased her pace and his growing cries of pain soon followed. She forced herself down, letting him almost reach her root. She loosened herself as she felt the euphoria enveloping her.

When they could bear no more, she knew he was ready for her gift. Apphia let volatile sludge loose from her root and it cascaded down onto him. Her second climax reached its peak and tainted excrement poured freely from her. The large and slick pile writhed, as daemonic worms emerged, burrowing into the guardsman’s pasty skin. A third climax hit her and she felt herself growing weak. His body was in different states of infection, Nurgle's rot and the other myriad gifts began to envelop him, slowly enshrouding his body in contagion and binding his soul in the pit of Nurgle. The infections were to consume him completely and his soul would join Nurgle in the warp, a never-ending reward. If he only knew what he was about to experience. She clumsily rose and re-fastened her amour. As the amour re-sealed itself, she admired the infections that were spreading across his body. His veins pulsed with black contagion, while his skin blistered and shriveled. The rate was faster than she had expected, but she had given him expert care in this regard. Sadly, he could give her no new gifts, but there were many more left on the battlefield and even if she could not gain a gift from them, she could always share hers with them.