Fapfics (Warhammer High)
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This page collects the various fapfics written by fa/tg/uys for the Warhammer High project.
Dirk, Cora, and MirandaEdit
Dirk and Cora sat quietly on their respective bunks, Dirk on top and Cora on bottom. It had been a long day at school for the siblings and Corax was off at a meeting trying to argue against Dirk's suspension.
The silence was broken abruptly "Hey Dirk?" Cora called quietly. "Yeah?" He responded, staring at the ceiling and resisting the urge to lick the cut on his lip. "Why are you always getting into fight when the jocks make fun of me? You always get yourself hurt and dad always taught us not to rush in without thinking"
Dirk just sighed and swung his body around to look over the side of the bunk bed to look at his sister. "Dad also taught us to always look out for each other. You're my little sister and those guys deserved it." Dirk explained. Cora blushed and nodded without a sound. The two shared an awkward pause before the doorbell rang. Dirk's head jerked towards the door. "I got it" He said quickly before leaping off the top-bunk with a thud and walked out of the room. Cora bit-her lip and watched him go, yearning, wanting.
Dirk entered the living room. It was more of a study with the fireplace burning dimly and the fully-stocked bookshelves on either side. The large chair where his father usually sat faced the fireplace whose light he would use to read his books. He always argued that it was best to read where it was just bright enough to function.
Dirk trotted over to the door, his socks made little noise on the fluffy black carpet as he approached the door. He looked through the eye hole only to be surprised. Miranda was standing before the door, still in her uniform. Dirk undid the locks and opened the door cautiously. "Miranda? What are you doing here?" Dirk said surprised. She smiled shyly and shifted in her spot. "Oh well I wanted to see if you were okay. I heard about the fight." She said, fidgeting and adjusting her headband. Dirk chuckled and nodded. "Yeah I know you tried to warn me that I'd get beat up again. Come on in. My dad's not home so we can talk in the living room." Dirk explained as he swung the door open fully.
Miranda was nervous and froze for a moment before entering. Dirk closed and locked the door behind her before escorting her over to the couch. Miranda sat down slowly and smiled nervously, beads of sweat running down from her headband and across her face.
"Would you like something to drink? You look like you just ran a marathon." Dirk asked politely. "Oh yes please. Just some water. It's very hot out today and the school still hasn't fixed the AC unit." She explained. Dirk nodded and smiled. "Well they should have gotten Mr. Dorn to fix it!" He shouted from the kitchen. Miranda shifted on the couch and shook a little nervously, trying to stay calm. Dirk returned a moment later with an ice cold glass of water and sat down next to Miranda with it. "Here you go" Dirk said, handing her the glass. Miranda smiled and reached for it, so shaky was her hand that she accidental knocked it out of his hand and all over his face.
By now Cora had cracked the door to her bedroom and begun curiously spying on the two. Miranda stood up in panic and pushed her hands over her mouth. "Oh my Emperor, I'm so sorry!" She said. Dirk just chuckled and lifted his black t-shirt to his face, dabbing it off. "I'm fine. It's good to get a nice splash of water in the face from time to time." He said. Miranda had stopped listening as soon as he lifted his shirt and was instead looking at his wet abs. Dirk was very muscular and dashing. Her hands slid down from her face slowly as she looked over the cuts, scars and bruising. He she watched him, she couldn't help herself any longer. "Dirk..." she whispered quiettly into his mind. Surprised, he jumped. and looked around. She was staring at him now and her hands had begun to caress her soft pillows through her uniform. Her other hand slid underneath her skirt and she leaned forward. "Teach me..." she whispered into his mind. Dirk was unable to resist, he was unsure of what had come over her or him, only that his body was all of a sudden swept up in a torrent of knowledge and compulsion.
Her will was too strong, Dirk was overwhelmed and threw his arms around her, shoving his knowledge into her brain and wrestling it around. Miranda moaned as her small form was pressed to his wet chest.
Cora looked on shocked and jealously as her brother embraced Miranda. She couldn't fight her hands away from her sappy joy. Happiness and excitment burned in her heart and she damned her body for reacting this way. She reached underneath her loose sweats and began furiously rubbing her hot slick pancake steamer. She made some pancakes as she watched the spectacle, wishing it were her out there.
Meanwhile Dirk lifted Miranda and tossed her down on the couch. She landed with a thud and quivered before him. "Not so rough..." she whispered into his mind. Dirk looked down on her quietly and then grabbed her by the hair, lifting her onto her knees. "What the-!?" She complained. It was only now that she realized her love had caused her hold on him to wain.
Dirk looked down on her, now back in control for the most part. He reached down and began fixing the buttons on her shirt as she looked up at him nervously. "I-I'm sorry! I-I just..." She tried to explain. Dirk then suddenly sewed her shirt closed, frustrated with slowly rebuttoning it, and sent old buttons flying all across the room. She shrieked in surprise as her red-lace bra was covered perfectly.
Cora shivered and moaned, she never thought her brother could act so kind. He was always bold and up front about things. He would go so far as to stand up to father and teachers without a second thought. She never expected him to be so educational with a girl though. She couldn't deny that she didn't think it beautiful. though. Her fingers dripped maple syrup as she polished off another pancake.
Dirk stopped for a moment and smiled. "I forgive you..." He said quietly. Miranda nodded and looked up at him, red in the face. She shrieked again as he reached down and buckled his black jeans. Miranda was shaking now, nervous and excited. She watched in eager anticipation as He fixed his zipper, and refined the denim. She gasped as her mind fell onto his massive textile expertise. She could see his dedication and skill in the magnificent bolts of cloth he showed her, already dry from the loom. Her hands shakily slid down to her damaged jeans spot, which Dirk hastily stiched up.
Miranda looked up at him, eyes wide and face beat red. She groaned nervously as her jeans slowly closed. She moaned in pain, making Dirk realize he poked her. "Sorry" he said. Her hands shakily pushed aside her wet, red-lace gloves and in between her them, asking him to please leave them to dry on his clothesline. Dirk could wait no longer and pushed, with great force, all the water out of the gloves. The gloves colours were muffled as he rapidly pushed the water thru them, her gloves quickly becoming sore from his sheer speed. Dirk tossed his head back and groaned lightly. He never imagine it would feel so good and he never imagined he would be doing this with Miranda. He reached down and took some fresh needles and thread, causing his large amounts of sewing supplies to spill out against his legs and begin bouncing against him as he sewed and mended.
Cora let out an audible moan form the doorway as flavor washed over her. She couldn't hold back anymore. He entire body writhed in ecstasy as she ate. Her syrup streamed down her face and dripped onto the carpet as she lay there shivering.
Dirk reached down and began groping Miranda's supple cloth. His hand was no gentler and he and gripped firmly. Miranda cried out again in shock of such finnesse as her cries were once again muffled by cloth on the walls. Without warning he released his grip on the cloth and pushed aside some linen. His large and muscular form knelt before her, his glorious fabric held firmly at attention as it loomed over her. Miranda was panting and trying regain her breath in between surprised exclamations. Silk . With one swift motion, Dirk whipped the silk out on the table and cast the linen into a dark corner of the room. Miranda looked up at him, her shyness and resistance long-gone, and a needle in her hand. Dirk smiled at her participation and pushed her to her sewing limits, revealing her raw, bald, untapped potential.
He leaned forward slowly and let his lesson rest on her eager mind. His hands gripped her work gently and pinned them on his work shelf. His dark piercing eyes gazed into hers momentarily before he began roughly quizzing her. What is the proper way to hold a pin? How many kinds of cross stitch are there? What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?
By now Cora had risen back onto her attention and stripped herself of ignorance. She answered every question perfectly, and teased him with her other knowledge, milking as many facts out of herself as possible.
Dirk could tease himself no longer and slid into intense teaching. Miranda groaned loudly in complaint of more work. With a swift remark, Dirk stuffed knowledge into Miranda's head. She ripped her cloth, and apologized before restitching it. He told her about how you should'nt rip cloth. He continued to proceed forward, stuffing inch after inch into her bright, inexpireinced mind. Miranda's learning sent him into a frenzy as he did so. He released her cloth and wrapped his arms around her sewing machine, pulling it to him. She threw her arms around his cloth and pressed her head to it, feeling its high thread count.
Cora watched from the door and couldn't resist stuffing more pancake into her own face hole. Her sopping pancake made audible as she began chewing with her mouth open. Her other hand squeezing roughly on her maple syrup bottle.
Miranda wrapped her mind around her lesson and pulled him in deep as he taught. Her eyes followed suit as they wrapped around his ideas and held tightly. Her mind was stiff and sore, but the learning was unmistakeable. "Teach me man!. Harder!" She demanded. Dirk taught of needle, thread, string, and yarn.. His statements were loud, revolutionary, and each one pushed as deep into true knowledge as her mind would allow, changing her perspective with each word.. Miranda's mind boggled at the knowledge, straining her mind.
Cora continues plunging her own pancakes in her mouth, wishing it was her out there. "Oh Dirk..." she thought quietly to herself. She closed her eyes tight and imagined her pancakes were his lesson, and the syrup was yarn. She had long yearned to be taught by her brother but could never work up the courage to do so or even propose it. She opened her eyes once more to watch the action before painfully forcing a second pancake into her face-hole, setting off a third pancake and causing her to bite down on her own pancake to keep silent. Even as she drew a picture she could feel nothing but pancake as she began to writhe once again.
Dirk struggled to keep his boat at the bay. Her walls squeezed him tight as he continued to stuff her with knowledge. Miranda was almost at grokking as well and her mind was near filling point. As Dirk continued to teach her, her grip on the material tightened, and she issued a high-pitched shout. her understanding washed over her, causing her mind to reel as she understood him and his slick, smart teaching. his knowledge inside her. He erupted in joy without a second though, his proud hug barreling into her and filling her to the brim with warm fuzzies. She released her grip as he did and fell limp in his arms.
THE H N END
Furia and HanaEdit
Stars exploded behind Hana's eyes as the blow connected. She should've seen it coming. The low strike was an obvious feint, there was almost no point in blocking it. By the time she saw the knee heading for her temple it was already too late to react. She had been drawn out. Baited. Her vision began to return as she regained her balance. Furia may be an overly aggressive fighter, but that doesn't mean she's a bad one.
Hana put her arms up again, signalling that she was ready to continue. Maybe Furia was psychotic, but she wouldn't bother to use overkill in a friendly sparring match. She saw the grin on the redhead's face, it was the look of someone who was enjoying themselves far too much. She thought about the best way to wipe it away, but knew that however the fight progressed, Furia would just end up enjoying it all the more.
They closed on each other again, Hana striking first. Two quick blows to the stomach, followed by a sweep with her left leg. Her fists connected, but Furia gracefully glided over the follow-up. In response she sent a shin into the side of Hana's knee, causing it to give way. Hana rolled as she went down, scrambling to her feet about two metres from her opponent.
She used the small reprieve to inspect the other girl. Sweat glistened on her skin, almost perfectly mirroring Hana's own exertion. The thin clothing they wore, consisting of little more than a tank top and short-shorts, doing precious little to keep them cool. Her eyes drifted over Furia's exaggerated curves, admiring the view for a moment too long. Her adversary noticed the hesitation and pounced. Literally.
Hana's wrists were caught firmly in the vice-like grip of her cousin. She allowed herself to fall backwards, attempting to place her foot in such a way as to send Furia flying over her. However, she forgot that sweat, while good for making a girl glisten, is also rather wet. Her foot slid off to the side, leaving it sticking out at a ninety degree angle to her other leg. This seemed to surprise Furia, she was clearly expecting the counter-attack to at least connect, likely allowing her to follow up with a thoroughly thought out flurry of blows.
As it was, they both landed heavily on the ground. Furia on top of Hana, although apparently they were both too surprised by the turn of events for either to capitalise on the position. For a moment, all they did was stare into each others eyes, forgetting the fight that was technically still going on. Hana's hands were pinned above her head by Furia, so she attempted to move herself into a slightly more comfortable position using only her legs and back. One leg, however, was wrapped around her opponent, it having come to rest there after slipping during the fall. As she moved, a sudden rush of euphoria shot through her. Furia clearly felt it too, given away by the way her eyes widened and hands gripped tighter.
She squirmed again, almost subconsciously. Pleasure coursed through them both again, causing Hana to arch her back and bite back a moan. Their bodies pressed together even harder, nerves almost ablaze with arousal. Furia beginning to writhe by herself, their bodies grinding together in a manner some may describe as 'obscene'.
Furia was moaning now. Quiet, but constant. It was beginning to get irritating, such a low, raspy sound. Hana decided to kill two birds with one stone and jerked her head up suddenly, locking their lips together. She began to thrust her hips upwards more vigorously, her body screaming for more. Furia responded in kind, hips rocking forwards and back, grinding their scantily clad selves as if they were trying to start a fire.
Tongues wrestled for dominance within the kiss, mimicking the combat that precluded the current events. Furia's grip on Hana's wrists began to abate, her hands sliding down the bare arms ever so slowly. As they reached her shoulders, Hana moved her own hands to the back of her cousin's head, pulling her deeper into the kiss. One then broke away, almost moving of it's own accord down Furia's back.
She inhaled sharply as fingers danced their way down her sides, touching and caressing what seemed like every single nerve ending on their way. Her thrusts faltered for a moment, then resumed with increased veracity. In response, Furia groaned loudly, the vibration tickling the back of Hana's throat... (and that's all we got)(shame, anyone mind me continuing it?) Yeah please do continue it.
Miranda and FreyaEdit
There was a loud crash as Freya kicked in the door to the room, Freya was wearing her simple school uniform. Miranda was laying in her bed, wearing her plain red pajamas, startled awake by the crash. Other than an overcrowded bookshelf, empty desk and bed, Miranda’s room was empty. “What are you doing here?” shouted Miranda as Freya moved closer to the bed. Freya didn’t respond as she moved ever closer to the bed. Freya climbed into the bed, on top of Miranda. Miranda tried to push Freya off the top of her, but Freya’s strength was too much to bear. Freya grabbed Miranda’s arms and held them above her head, keeping Miranda pinned to the bed. Freya’s face moved in close to Miranda’s as Miranda struggled to escape the massive strength of the wolf princess. “No! Stop! Get off of m-“ Miranda’s words were cut short as Freya placed a long deep kiss on Miranda’s lips. Miranda struggled for only a few moments until she could no longer hold back her own desires. Freya loosened her grip and allowed Miranda’s arms free. Miranda grabbed Freya and pulled her close, and allowed her hands to start exploring Freya’s body. While never breaking that first kiss, Miranda’s hands found their way to Freya’s ass and squeezed. Freya broke the kiss, and looked deep into Miranda’s eyes and gave a smirk, while slowly beginning to lift Miranda’s shirt and exploring with her own hands.
Miranda gave no struggle anymore and allowed Freya to do whatever she wished. Freya continued to move down Miranda’s body and her tongue started to lick Miranda’s stomach right above her pajama pants. There was a knock on Miranda’s bedroom door. Miranda looked over to the door, not making any attempt to stop Freya, too overcome by the pleasure about to become her. She noticed that her door was still open and heard another knocking noise, but payed it no mind. Freya’s hands gripped the top of Miranda’s pajama pants and started to pull them down as her tongue followed the path downward. Miranda felt a flush of embarrassment, but was so overcome by the impending pleasure that she could do nothing about it. Miranda opened her mouth, but could only produce a moan of pleasure as Frey’s tongue reached her- Miranda was awoken again as Magnus the Red burst into her room. Startled awake she looked up and in grogginess managed to utter “W-what?” “C’mon honey, wake up. You are going to be late for school” “Alright dad, I’ll be down in a sec.” “Well hurry up, you don’t have much time left before you have to leave.” Magnus said as he walked out of the room.
“Damn it!” She said to herself as she made her way out of bed. She quickly threw on her school uniform, which was laid out from the night before and headed into the kitchen where her father was sitting at the table and reading the daily Imperium newspaper. “I’m leaving, dad.” “Here, some money for lunch.” “Thanks.” (Travel) Miranda arrives at (Warhammer High) and makes her way inside. As she walks in she sees Freya, arm wrestling with one of the boys and proceed to nearly break the kids arm. “Wow, Freya’s boobs look kinda nice today. No! You need to stop thinking such dirty thoughts Miranda.” Miranda thought to herself. Freya notices Miranda standing there and runs up to her, Miranda blushing from memories of the recurring dream she had again this morning. “Hey Miranda!!” “Guh, you don’t have to be so loud, you are such a savage, Freya.” “Haha, yeah I guess.” They make their way to their respective classes and the morning passes by without anything special happening.
Miranda makes her way to the lunch room, buys her lunch and sits alone. Freya walks into the lunch room soon after and sits at the table with Miranda. Freya was always pretty popular with others, being the party animal she was. Always drinking or doing something stupid. Definitely the class clown. However she seemed to gravitate towards Miranda, and Miranda didn’t understand why. “Where’s your lunch Freya?” “Oh, I don’t have any money.” “You didn’t get any money when you left?” “Well, my dad gave me some beer money.” “So go get some lunch!” “I can’t, I spent it…on beer.” *facepalm* “Here, just have some of my lunch, idiot.”
“Hey, there is someone I think I like. I think I’m going to ask them out.” Said Freya, with a small smirk on her lips. “Let me guess, he’s some big muscly ruffian like you with even less manners?” “Well, no, she’s—“ “She!?” Miranda blurts out, startled by this revelation. “Yeah, she’s quiet and kinda nerdy, and even though she is mean to me, she does nice things, like share her lunch with me.” “Um, uh.”
Miranda says, dumbfounded by this recent surprise. Miranda and Freya had been "friends" for awhile, after Freya defended Miranda as a child. And even though Miranda always acted mean to her after the fact, Freya was always around somewhere (If she wasn’t drunk somewhere, which was often the case). And even though Miranda always had reserved feelings for Freya, she never thought Freya would return the same feelings. “She sounds nice,” Miranda said. “Miranda, Come to my house tonight we’ll talk about this after dinner.” Miranda was now flush with embarrassment. “She never said it was me, no need to get your hopes up. She just wants your help with this other person.” She thought “Yeah that’s it, she can’t have feelings for me, at least not the same feeling I have.”
“Um I guess I can come over for dinner” “Good” said Freya, “We’ll meet after school, and walk there together”
End Chapter 1 (is there more of this somewhere?)
Writefag Someone else. created this story, but it was so huge it needed its own page.
A Pleasant ReunionEdit
The pseudoweather outside was a bit warmer than it had been. Michael leaned back against the frame of his bedroom window and basked in the light. Spring break was drawing to a close, sadly enough, but that had a flip side to it. Michael grinned into the morning sun. Angela was coming back soon. It had been a fun break, sure, spring break was always good. But Angela hadn’t been able to disentangle from her family obligations, and that was that. She had left right after school the previous Friday. She was due back from Albiona today, and he couldn’t wait. Regretfully, however, the pile of homework on his desk had barely shrunk in her absence, and carried a rather heftier penalty. With a long-suffering sigh, he turned to his desk to get to work.
After an hour or two of work, he stretched and stood, having had quite enough of calculus for one morning. He wandered over to his bed and collapsed into it, trying to unspool his brain. Eyes shut, he snapped his fingers twice to start up the audio player in the corner, and let the music blow out the window with the fading morning breeze.
The high schooler laced his fingers under his head, trying to picture the schedule he had drawn for classes after the break, and found that he couldn’t. With a mental shrug, he dismissed it. There would be time for that later. Waving the music down a hair, he sighed, settling down. The faint noise of people outside the mansion and wind through the open bay window mingled with the music.
A sense of total and complete relaxation came over him, and a slow, steady sense of warmth spread through his body. He sighed contentedly, then blinked as a stray thought occurred. He had just lain down. How could he already be falling asleep?
Oh. He smiled to himself, his pulse spiking in excitement. That was how. He closed his eyes again, and felt the sensation of contentment return, subtler. He smiled again. “A bit too strong the first time, I think,” he said aloud.
“Aw. I was hoping I could get through that time,” a warm, happy voice responded. The light from the window darkened a bit as someone crouched through it from the outside. She shuffled through, then stood, cricking her neck. “At least I got the drop on you for once.”
“It was your sense of timing,” Michael pointed out. “I had just laid down anyway.” He stood and embraced his guest, sliding an arm across her waist and shoulders. She leaned into him, returning it happily. He would have hugged across her back, but it was a bit occupied.
Angela, the appropriately-named daughter of Lord Primarch Sanguinius, squeezed her arms across his back, hugging him tight, and spread her wings around him as well, drawing him in. She smiled against his cheek as the simple pleasure of his welcome warmed her psyche. She hated travel so much. “It’s good to be home,” she said quietly.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, leaning back a bit. From this close, her bright blue eyes were about all he could see. Then he lost sight of those, too, as she leaned in for a kiss, and his eyes slid shut.
The music in the corner quieted as he snapped his fingers once, and the wind was all he could hear. She broke the kiss at last, licking her lips. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” she said quietly. “I had no idea when the lines would open.”
“Don’t worry, I got some work done,” he said, gesturing at the desk beside them. “But hey. You’re here, right?”
“Yep,” she said happily, pulling back and drawing his hands between them. She clenched them between his own, and bit back a smirk at the sudden torrent of images running through his head. He must have known what she was thinking, because they suddenly went dark, replaced by the slightest sense of being scolded. “Sorry.”
He ruefully shook his head. “Forget it.” Her power had manifested late enough that adjustment hadn’t been hard. If anything, it had shone a deeper light on what had otherwise been a close, but unromantic, friendship between the two. Now that there was no barrier between her mind and his, however…something more profound had taken its place. She released his hands, sitting down at the edge of the bed and looking up at him, a coy little smile crossing her face. “Truth be told,” he said, apropos of nothing, “I’ve been waiting for this,” he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Really,” she giggled. “Have you, now.”
“Indeed,” he said, nodding with all the false solemnity he could muster. Which wasn’t much. He cracked his knuckles, all business, as she kicked off her own shoes. “I mean, a week is a long time.”
She snorted, though her thoughts had strayed to him a few times since she had seen him last as well, as he could well assume. “Not that long.”
“Oh, that stings,” he said, wounded. He tugged his shirt off, chucking it in the hamper as his eyes followed her curves. She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t move. “I guess absence doesn’t make the heart grow fonder after all,” he said, resigned.
Angela bit her lip again, tugging her skirt off as well. “Don’t be so sure,” she said quietly. He grinned broadly, sitting down next to her on the bed, and sliding one hand across her leg. She swallowed faintly as her biology caught up with her circumstances, and she flushed from face to navel. He leaned behind her head, lightly kissing the nape of her neck, as she hurriedly shed her panties and uncrossed her legs. He ran his free hand across the flat muscle of her stomach, eliciting a little shiver of anticipation. “Keep doing that, okay?” she asked faintly.
“For now, sure,” he murmured from behind her head. He pushed her hair aside to reveal the little spot of skin behind her hairline, and nuzzled it, as his fingers slid just a bit lower with every caress of her stomach.
“You know what, that works too,” she whispered. Her voice rose on the last word as he gently sucked on the skin of her neck, and his fingers found home. She let out a shuddery breath as he pushed, not even trying to go anywhere yet, just applying a bit of pressure. Thanking her own timing that she had shaved that morning before the flight, she leaned against him, wrapping one hand across his back and gripping his arm with the other.
“Oh…” she sighed through her teeth. Michael was going back to moving, she noted distantly, kissing her earlobe and cheek. She turned and caught his lips, kissing him with hungry, anticipatory relief. Maybe she had been looking forward to this more than she had realized…
He kept up his rhythm, sliding his fingers a little lower yet. She groaned into his mouth. “How does that feel?” he asked, as he broke for air.
“Like I’m going to explode,” she whispered huskily. He smiled in self-congratulation.
“Now that’s good to hear,” he said, moving his fingers in a little circle around her entrance. Her head sank as the sensation jolted her. He kept it going, rubbing a little circle around her vagina, until she visibly shuddered.
“I am…so ready to go,” she groaned. He nodded, standing up and wiping his hands on a tissue.
“Good, because so am I,” he noted. He shucked the rest of his clothes, which was rather simpler for him than it was for her. As he finished, he took the time to watch in approval as her bra came off, and she flushed again. “I’ll never get tired of that,” he promised, dropping to one knee in front of her.
“Get tired of what?’ she asked, shaking her hair loose.
“That view,” he said, leaning forward. He slid one probing finger back into the fold between her legs, caressing her clit. She clamped her legs shut by instinct, moaning aloud. He pushed again, and she rolled her head back.
“Man, that feels good,” she breathed. He didn’t respond, just leaned upwards a bit. He ran his lips over her collarbone, kissing his way south. She arched her back a little, leaning into the feeling. Michael took the invitation, pausing to tug gently at one taut little nipple with his teeth. She gasped. “Easy,” she managed, “that’s way too sensitive.”
“Sorry,” he said, not that he was planning on stopping. He slid his other hand back down to her vagina, sliding one finger in, and making the ‘come here’ gesture.
She gasped again, clenching his finger. He slid in a second and repeated it. She bucked a bit, shaking. “I’m…I think…” she managed, before she grasped his head to her chest with one hand, gripping the covers tightly with the other. “Oh…oh, yes…”
Michael smirked against her bronze skin as she came on his bedspread, shaking from head to toe. When the tremors stopped, he gently extracted his hand, wiping it down again. “Okay, NOW how do you feel?” he asked.
Angela bowed her head, grabbing her knees, heaving a little from exertion. “Like I just ran a mile at a dead sprint,” she panted. Then she looked up, and her eyes were dazed and content. She smiled up at him from behind a sheen of sweat. “Thanks, baby. That was worth a week.”
Michael nodded triumphantly. “I sure hoped so,” he said cheerfully.
She sank down onto the covers on her side, avoiding the soggy patch, and stretched luxuriously, folding her wings against her back. He sat down next to her, running his hand through her hair. She cooed, snuggling against his hand. “Is it your turn?” she asked playfully.
He shook his head. “Nah.” He grabbed the box of condoms from under the bed, and rolled one on, sure to give her a view. She watched the process hungrily. “It’s OUR turn.”
“Awesome,” she said happily. She started to sit back up, but he caught her shoulder.
“You lie down,” he said, knee-walking to her other side. She awkwardly rolled over to face him as he clambered over her.
“Actually,” she said hesitantly. “Can we try this?”
“Hm?” he asked.
“Here, let…yeah,” she said, rising to her hands and knees. He instantly divined her meaning, eagerly moving to kneel behind her. He guided her to the right altitude with his hand, then gave her butt a playful squeeze.
“Hmm, been looking forward to this after all, huh,” he asked drily, feeling his blood rise.
“Little bit,” she admitted. She brushed her hair down to hang from one side of her head, then glanced mischievously back at him. “Waiting for something?”
“Funny,” he chuckled, gently aligning himself with her. She let her head sink down as he found the approach, and pushed a bit.
“Mmmm…there you go,” she said thickly, reaching back to grab his hand with her own, clasping it to her hip. “Ngh…push a little…”
“There we are,” he said, moving against her. His hips caught on hers as he reached his limit, and groaned ecstatically. “So good…you’re as tight as a virgin, Angela baby…”
“Hang on, okay?” she managed, shifting her legs apart a little, trying to find a more comfortable position. By what he considered a supreme act of will, he waited until she signaled her readiness. He pulled his penis back, all the way to the head, then slid it back in smoothly, finding his pace. “Oh, yes…there we go,” she murmured. “Oh, wow, that’s…intense…”
“This…may not happen,” he groaned. She glanced back at him; his neck was straining, his jaw tight. “Nope…”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, confused.
“Wrong? Oh, baby, nothing’s wrong, this is…fucking awesome,” he groaned, speeding up. “But…no way I’m gonna…last like this.”
A tremor of pleasure shook her arms as he sped up even more, rocking her forward as he rocked back, then pulled her back to meet him. She shivered and lent her own arms to it, seeking him out as he withdrew. “Mmm…well, don’t stop yet,” she managed. She felt him move inside her, a pressure that hadn’t been there before, and it warmed her to her core. Invisibly, she extended a tendril of her mind, and she grinned to herself as it met his own mind, a roiling sea of emotion, lust, and pleasure.
“Oh, oh Angela sweetheart, don’t do that,” he groaned, slowing his pace as he felt her gentle presence. “I’m…so close to oh FUCK, oh,” he suddenly said, his hands tightening like vices on her butt. She rolled her head back in delight as his mind blanked completely, and a wave of total satisfaction swept his thoughts away. He moaned aloud, his breath coming in fast gasps, as the wave receded, and he sank back on his haunches, absolutely shattered. She gingerly sank down on her legs, sitting sideways and looking him over. His face was a blank mask of contentment, eyes shut and mouth relaxed. He felt her gaze and cracked his eyes open, then he seemed to sag as he saw the clock on the desk behind her. “Oops. Sorry,” he said sheepishly.
“Sorry?” she giggled. “Sorry for what? Enjoying yourself?”
“No,” he replied, shamefaced but still clearly cruising on the glow. With one hand, he gestured in the rough direction of the clock. “That…wasn’t even two minutes,” he said bashfully.
“Eh, it still felt fine,” she said coyly. She leaned over and pushed him back, and he collapsed onto his back, unresisting. She crawled over him, pausing to pull the condom off and drop it in the trash. She quirked an eyebrow as she did. “Say, you DID have fun.”
“What can I say, you’re a natural,” he said wearily, spreading out on the covers. She moved up over him and lay down flush on top of him, eyes level. He looked up at her, dreamy and tired, as she cuddled her legs astride his own. “I swear you’re taller now than you were when you left,” he said softly.
She smiled, craning her head down to rest her forehead against his. “Hush,” she whispered.
He did as he was told. His eyes drifted shut, as she extended her mind to him again. He took her in, guiding her blindly. At her own command, she broke free of his clumsy mental hold. Her lover though he may have been, Michael was no psyker. She was.
She effortlessly delved through his surface mind, driving through his thoughts, and wrapping his emotions around her. Michael sighed in satisfaction as her mind moved through his. It had felt alien, scary, invasive, the first time they had tried. But now, they had been as intimate as he thought they could be, and it felt more like a kiss.
With more effort, she pushed through his thoughts and emotions, deeper into his memories. He shivered in pleasure as she deliberately replayed the memory of his orgasm, moments before, and she smiled. That’ll have to be for special occasions, she thought into his head. He nodded silently. Don’t want to wear that out, he thought back, and a warm glow of approval melted through him.
Angela slid across the membranes of his mind, finding and discarding random memories and sensations from his past, until she found what she had been searching for: the core of his personality. She didn’t touch a thing. She knew better. This, this was something she wanted to preserve. It was him. It was the house of his soul, his perception of the world and his role in it, his future. She didn’t want to change it. It was him.
She wrapped herself around it, felt its faint glow against her mind, and slowly inhaled, quite unconsciously. She was aware of him, more intimately than the most passionate sex or most heartfelt gift could make her. If he had had the mental power and spiritual potential to do the same to her, she knew, he would have found her light burned a dozen billion times brighter, as a beta psyker’s would. Her soul’s radiance would have overshadowed his like an ember next to a searchlight, and she was disappointed, selfishly but honestly, that he couldn’t quite reciprocate. They had tried soul-stripping twice, and neither time had succeeded, but for now, this was more than enough.
He moaned softly as he felt her in his mind, gently enveloping his soul. She cracked one eye open, bathing the room in an unnatural cerulean light, and saw his own eyes were screwed shut, his face locked in a rictus of absolute pleasure. She leaned down and kissed his lips, as faint as a breath of wind, and he whimpered. She disengaged from him, one layer at a time, and his muscles relaxed, until she was gone, and all that was left of her within him was a lingering aura of her mischievous spirit in his mind and a faint taste of blood on his tongue.
Michael slowly opened his eyes. Her arms were crossed on his chest, and she was staring down at him over her elbows. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hi there,” he said, more coherently.
“Are you okay? I stayed in there a while,” she asked quietly.
He tried to lift his shaking arms, couldn’t. “I’ve never felt better,” he said honestly, relaxing against the bed and giving up his struggles. “That…was unforgettable.”
She smiled behind her arms. “I’ll say.” She uncrossed her arms, sliding them under his to grip his shoulders, and kissed him deeply, letting the lingering stress from his mental invasion fade. She felt him harden back up between her legs, clearly re-energized by her psychic exploration. “Want to go again?” she whispered.
He beamed up at her. “Absolutely.”
Angela smiled down at him, pecking him on the lips. “Great.” She rose from atop him long enough to grab another condom from the box, and sat up on his waist, feeling his firming erection press against her back. “Let’s see…” she said, reaching back with the little plastic ring. “Like…this?” she asked innocently, applying it blind.
He swallowed, hard. “Where the hell did you learn that?” he asked hoarsely as her fingers reached the bottom.
She batted her eyes. “Learn what?” In reality, it had been a simple trick of her abilities to guide her hands, but there was no reason for her to show him.
Michael’s mouth worked for a moment, but he didn’t say whatever he had wanted to. “…Never mind,” he finally said, finding the strength in his shoulders to lift his torso up. She scooted free, letting him up. She waddled on her knees up to the headboard, crossing her legs and sitting as she reached them. She watched as he sat up, clearly meaning to navigate this time around. “Here, can you sit there?” he asked.
“What?” She watched, slightly puzzled, as he knelt in front of the headboard, then nodded as understanding dawned. “Oh…we can try,” she said doubtfully. She tried to maneuver between him and the headboard, straddling his legs with hers. As she descended, though, he caught her, holding her up as he spread his own knees, giving her a more comfortable perch.
She slipped back down the length of him, letting out a breath as he filled her up. From her limited understanding of the subject, he wasn’t huge or anything, but there was no mistaking the feeling of penetration either, as he gently gripped her hips and eased her down over his penis. “There we go,” he said softly, his eyes alight. His hands cupped her butt as it hung over the pillows. “Let me know if this hurts your wings, okay?” he asked quietly.
“Sure,” she said, her own heart rate picking up. She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against his chest, and hooked her hands over his shoulders again, so she wouldn’t be leaning her wings back against the wooden headboard.
“All right,” he said, lifting slightly. She pushed down against the bed with her toes, rising a little, then eased herself back down. “Feel okay?”
“Feels fine,” she said, glad he had bought lubricated condoms. She tensed again, letting him set the pace. She leaned over his shoulder, breathing a little faster. “Yeah, go ahead, this is great.”
“All right,” he repeated, pulling her back down again.
Angela’s eyes rolled shut, and she tightened her wings, drawing her feathers against her back. She stretched her mind out for the fourth time, caressing his. “Hey, careful,” he said, sensing her. “I blew early last time you did that.”
“Yeah, but you had also been waiting for me for days,” she pointed out playfully. “I won’t go too far. I just want to feel it.” He shrugged over her arms.
“Sure, if you want,” he said. He resumed his cycle, raising and lowering her, and rocking his hips a tiny bit with each motion. Angela reached out to sense him, and bit back a groan as she found his emotional center. The waves of primal pleasure roiling through him were intensely satisfying to the female part of her mind. She let herself slide across Michael’s mind a bit more, reveling in the sense of warmth and comfort her body was giving his. As she did so, however, she sensed something more, swirling beneath the surface. Curious, she gingerly extended her mind to it. As she found it, she tasted sugar on her tongue. She cracked an eye open, but she hadn’t left her position, and neither had he; only a few seconds had passed, and he was still thrusting up into her with the same reassuring, masculine vigor. Offering him a quick kiss on the cheek and whisper of approval, she returned to her exploration. The sensation wasn’t real, she could tell now, but it was still there, an echo of whatever she was feeling in his mind.
She slipped back to where she had been, feeling his impulses swell around her. She eased in, finding her mystery feeling again, and this time let it embrace her fully, wrapping around her mental projection.
What was it, Angela wondered. It was comfort, that she could tell from its context, embroiled in his physical need for her. Something mental? She relaxed, and let her psychic instinct guide her to the answer.
Ah. Of course, she realized. It was the longing he had felt for her while she was away. Not the physical lust, that had been up above. And it wasn’t the sum total of his feelings for her. That had been down in the recesses of his mind, wrapped around and directing his soul with the rest of his personality. No, this was a more base desire. More than physical, her voice and sex. Less than spiritual, her soul and personality. He missed her. Her insights, her conversations, their interactions.
She unconsciously tightened her grip on his shoulders, a quiet, familiar ache building just behind her stomach. Distantly, she wondered why she hadn’t found this before. The feeling was just as satisfying as the ones she had passed to get to it, but…in an entirely different way. Her mental projection relaxed, feeling the glow of his emotion like a breeze on her wings, or a ray of sun on her cheek.
“Angela?” Michael asked. Angela’s eyes opened, to see Michael looking at her funny. They had stopped moving. “You okay?”
“Whu…?” she asked, bleary.
“You fell over,” he said strangely, looking her up and down. She glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, she was now leaning backwards, one wing lodged against the headboard. Her knees felt watery and weak, too, and she felt oddly sticky.
“Oh,” she said, blushing beet red. “Sorry…I just, I think I just came so fast that it knocked me a bit loopy,” she quickly improvised.
“I’ll say,” Michael muttered, looking down to where he was still buried inside her. “It was so quick I wasn’t sure what was going on.”
“Uh, hey, don’t stop,” she said, resuming her position on his lap, wrapping her arms around him horizontally this time. “Really, go ahead.”
“You say so,” he said, starting back up. After a few minutes of quiet, encouraging murmurs from her, he came too, burying a groan of blissful release in her shoulder. As his aftershocks slowed, she slowly climbed off of him, holding the headboard for support and shaking her wings to get the circulation going again.
He slumped back, cleaning himself up with a towel and tossing the condom in the trash. She hugged her knees to her chest and watched as he dried up, then stretched out next to her near the foot of the bed, the only part that wasn’t wet or covered in discarded clothes. She cuddled up next to him, draping her upper arm and leg over him. Michael smiled in contentment, sliding his arm under her cheek and ruffling her hair with his hand. “Thanks, Angela. Really. That made my day. Week,” he amended after a moment’s thought.
She laughed sleepily, and tossed the clothes next to which they had been lying at the laundry servitor’s slot in the corner. “Mine too,” she said dreamily. The breeze through the window picked up, blowing the smell and heat of their exertions out, and carrying the smell of cut grass and flowers in. She ran her hand over his chest to his heart, and he caught it there, holding it down.
“So…” she asked quietly. “Want to know what I felt, before?”
“Sure,” he said, glancing down at her head on his bicep.
Angela struggled through her weariness to find the right words. “I found contentment, sure…and, the way it feels when you have sex with me…which I appreciate you sharing, by the way,” she added with a sleepy grin. He returned it, machismo nicely stroked. “And…I felt some concern, too. Like…the way this intimidates you a little,” she said, letting her eyes flare a bit.
He awkwardly shrugged under her head. “Honestly, baby, it doesn’t weird me much anymore. Knowing your dad, I could tell you were gonna be an amazing psyker.”
“And…it’s not concern so much as a little envy,” he continued. She didn’t reply; she looked like she was thinking that over.
“Okay…well…I also felt the way you missed me when I was gone,” she concluded. “That felt nice too.”
“What did? That I missed you?” he asked, confused.
“Yeah. It feels good to be longed for. You know? And the relief you felt…that was so peaceful,” she said quietly.
“Yeah?” He peered up at her. “Like what?” he asked, as he grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under his head. He could feel sleep coming on, morning or no.
“I can’t describe it. But…it was so relaxing,” she said softly. He smiled, kissing the top of her golden head.
“Then help yourself.”
She looked up at him, a hesitant grin on her blood-red lips. “Really?”
“Sure. If it’s just sitting in there, knock yourself out,” he said with another shrug.
She bit her lip again, and her mischievous side came back out for a moment. “I’ll hold you to that,” she said softly. “So if you’re trying to sleep, and you suddenly feel a hand on your mind, it’s me, okay?”
He chuckled. “If I’m trying to sleep, share some with me, huh?”
Angela giggled. “I will,” she promised. She reached over and grabbed a pillow of her own, settling down on her side. Silence fell over the room as both teens started to drift off to sleep.
Hey, she asked, just as his mind dropped into the blankness of slumber. How did you know when I was going to show up this morning?
I didn’t, he replied in his mind. But I knew my angel would come back for me.
DISCLAIMER: This was floating around on my harddrive for almost a year before i brute-force finished it while drunk. I'm not really too pleased with the ending but i can't be arsed to exand on it any more.
This had not been a good day for Victoria, and it was getting worse by the minute. First a mind-numbingly dull lecture on hive-agro economics, then a three hour long unprepared test in applied realspace physics that she was sure she had flunked spectacularly and on top of that all the school’s bathrooms had been closed off due to a break in the block’s water main. The school had of course arranged with several port-a-johns while the water main was being fixed but Victoria had opted out on those. She wouldn’t call them “icky”, as some of the other girls had phrased it, but she had still refrained from using them for the whole day on pure principle.
That last fact was now making itself noticed as she was walking home. The psedoweather had thrown a screwball today and, despite it being only late autumn, the streets were slick with the aftermath of a freezing rain. She had thought of calling for a pick-up but the weather had cleared up nicely just as her school day had ended and besides, walking home did burn a bit of calories. Not that burning calories was her main problem right now. No, her main problem at the moment was that her nether regions reminded her, and painfully so, every step she took that she hadn’t been to the toilet today at all. With the street still slippery she had to walk with outmost care not to slip on the thin sheet of ice still clinging to the sidewalk, making every small step a mental and physical test of endurance.
Victoria managed to get about halfway home before the pseudoweather decided to go on the fritz again and an unexpected gust of wind blew her off balance. That in itself wasn’t enough for her to fall over, but coupled with the fact that her mind was more concentrated on controlling her bladder that her balance and it was the last straw that broke the ambull’s back.
One short aerial moment later and Victoria was sitting on the cold, slick rockcrete. No, it wasn’t cold. At least it wasn’t as cold as she had thought it would be. It almost felt… warm. Warm, and definitely more wet than it looked. One moment later and Victoria was blushing with shame over what she had done.
She quickly stood up and resumed her walk home; desperately hoping none of her classmates had seen her in her moment of weakness, especially the twins. If they had seen it half the school would know about it by tomorrow. What would her cousins think? That she was a pervert? That she was a deviant? Still, it almost felt… good. Forbidden, yes, but still so very good.
--The next day--
Victoria had called in sick and now had the entire house for herself, since her father, Fulgrim, the Primarch of the III Legion, had been called away to urgent business concerning some upstart alien race or another making trouble. Now she stood in the large shower in the splendid bathroom right next to her room and couldn't make up her mind. What she was about to do would be considered taboo, and what if her father found out? It would surely net her a stern and shameful talking-to from her father if he found out.
She really wanted, no, NEEDED, to do this, though. That feeling of doing the forbidden, of breaking this taboo felt so good. She had already gone through several bottles of water and could now feel the familiar sense of pressure in her nethers. She ran a hand over the only piece of clothing she had on, a pair of purple panties with gold trim, the colors of her Father's Legion, of her Legion. How would it feel to just let it go? Would she feel ashamed, even though no one could possibly know? Would it still feel as good? Victoria decided that there was only one way to be sure.
She spread her legs and as the pressure in her bladder became almost painful she unclenched her muscles and opened the floodgate. At first there was nothing, then a small damp patch began spreading across her panties. A second later it was a small trickle. One more and she felt the wet warmth running down both her legs. This felt even better than yesterday. This felt exhilarating, like a high she never knew she needed before. Victoria caught a handful of her golden stream with one hand and poured it over her perfectly sized breasts. Gingerly she worked her other hand underneath her now thoroughly soaked panties and felt her sex, slick with wetness and the last drops of urine.
Her hand lingered there for a second, just feeling the wetness against her skin before she plunged two finger inside herself, their passage made smooth and easy by her own anticipation and the residue of golden liquid. She did not last for very long before falling to her knees, her legs buckling under her by the force of her orgasm. She didn't let that stop her and it was only after her fourth shaking orgasm that she took her now entirely soaked fingers out of her snatch and licked them clean from her juices.
After a quick shower, and tossing her panties in the laundry bin, she donned her luxurious bathrobe and lounged on her large bed, still weak in the knees from her experience. This was something she definitely had to try again some other day.