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It was basically impossible for any chemical that could get an astartes high to avoid killing any humans who were exposed to it at the same time, usually in impressively gruesome and dramatic ways with lots of screaming and writhing and seizures and foaming at the mouth - and while that had been interesting enough for the first couple of centuries, there were only actually so many ways to poison humans. Rala was bored of that now. So very bored. And anyway he didn’t want to kill his pets! Not when he’d put so much work into them, training them, making sure they knew what he liked but also when he wanted to be surprised…
The point was, this was the reason that most of the haze in the air in here was for the ambience, not because it did anything. You couldn’t get a good light-show going without something to light up! No, the actual drugs were a foul, frothing cocktail in glass vials which an injection harness was mixing and drip feeding into a line burrowed directly into the base of his skull, where you didn’t have to worry about silly things like the blood-brain barrier.
Outside of the induced physiological haze of chemicals, the plush leather of a very large couch supported his naked back and ass. Maybe it would be more accurate to call it a cushion? A bag? A living breathing creature he’d taken all the bones out of and hooked up to intake and evacuation tubes and fed until it was mostly adipose tissue and which was daily moisturised to an inch of its actually quite pleasant life considering the ecstasy spikes drilled into all the joy-nodes of its brain?
Whatever one wanted to call it, it was very comfortable, was the point.
Just like it was comfortable having Sara on his lap with one of his cocks in each of her holes riding him gently, and Adith and Yulien licking some of his nipples and playing with the others, and Kargil doing an okay job filling his throat up with his dick. Rala just got to lay here and enjoy all of it.
Maybe Kargil’s cock could be bigger. There was always some niggling little thing that wasn’t quite right. They could work on that. They just needed to make sure the blood flow kept up with the enlargements.
Distantly the door to his quarters hissed open and closed again. Footsteps echoed off the walls. Prince be praised, his room’s acoustics were the shit. What with everything, even those boots with their trying-too-hard heels made such ecstatic sounds. The hiss when Tazmin took his helmet off was nice and tingly too.
“Are you doing something new with your hair?” Tazmin said, deep and sarcastic.
Rala flipped him off. Then he opened a second mouth further down his neck and said, “I got this cut and dyed last month and you wait until now to mention it, you petty bitch? I’m hurt. Betrayed even.” The words still came out slightly garbled on account of the glans pumping deep enough to tickle even his secondary vocal cords.
Tazmin sighed. “Take that cock out of your mouth if you’re going to talk to me.”
Kargil looked down and raised his eyebrows in a question. Rala slapped his ass to confirm he ought to do as asked, and he pulled out, sliding off the edge of the cushion-beast to bow politely to them both in turn. “Can I get you anything to drink, milord?” he asked Tazmin.
“Nah, it’s fine,” Tazmin waved him off. With his visual field now unobstructed, Rala felt there was something different about his battle-brother (fuck-brother, tunes-brother, buzzed-brother) as well.
“Is your forehead bigger?” he asked, dubious about this.
“Now who’s being a petty bitch,” Tazmin replied, but he held up his hand to cover his hairline which meant that Rala was right.
“It’s because you keep pulling your ponytail back too tightly,” he said knowledgeably. “She-who-thirsts thinks you must want to go for one of those cone-skull kind of looks.”
“Only idiots who obsess over practicing one sword-strike six-million times think that’s in fashion. And that’s not what I’m going for.”
“But you are going for something?” Rala wasn’t sure what, or if he thought that was a good idea. Tazmin’s head was fine. His makeup was passe on the other hand, but you couldn’t have everything.
“Batachithix says he can divide my skull and shape out some bass-boosting horns,” Tazmin said.
“Batachithix is a hack!”
“Master!” Sara said from her place bouncing on his cocks, slightly concerned. “You’re always sending us to him for flesh-shaping.”
Rala patted her thigh gently, noting with approval that her worry hadn’t affected her sense of tempo at all. “That’s because he’s fine when it comes to humans.”
“And with astartes,” Tazmin told him, with misplaced loyalty and confidence. “He spent a year with the haemonculi, you know.”
“Kidnapping one so he could beg lessons off of it doesn’t count,” Rala replied. “And what would they know about astartes biology? Pointy little scream-queens. All they know how to do is mould humans and aeldari and eat pain. And lie. Which Batachithix also learned how to do quite well.”
“And you just developed all your flesh-shapings through natural mutation then?” Tazmin said, with deepening sarcasm.
“Sure. I’m just that pious and beloved of the Prince.”
“Bullshit.”
Tazmin had a point here, so Rala deflected. “Didn’t you see what he’s done to our Lord Exultant?”
“I thought maybe they wanted to look like that?” Tazmin did not sound entirely sure about this, because yeah, their lord looked like an idiot now.
“I like some bouncing, jiggling ass-cheeks as much as the next pervert, but I’d also like them to fit into any sort of reasonable armour,” Rala replied. “Not the size of an ogryn’s torso each and wobbling naked and free in the wind - even if they are sexily oiled up,” he added, feeling he should show at least a little loyalty.
“I mean, I’d fuck them.”
“Well yes, we’d all fuck them,” Rala admitted. “But that was true before the botched surgery.”
“Maybe I’ll ask a few more questions before I let Batachithix open up my skull,” Tazmin said. He sat down on the edge of the couch-beast.
“Take your armour off first!” Rala snapped. “This creature is too delicate to be scuffed up by ceramite spikes.”
Tazmin sighed, but stood up again to do as requested. He wasn’t entirely mannerless or inconsiderate. Once he finished stripping down to bare skin, he laid carefully down and cuddled up to Rala, gently picking Yulien up to make space and depositing him onto his own belly instead. His rather larger hand replaced what Yulien had been doing.
“Do you want me to play with your tits instead, milord?” Yulien asked, holding up an electrowand and making it spark.
“Yeah, just don’t lick my nipples too much,” Tazmin told him. “The milk that comes out’ll be too strong for you.” He put another hand round Rala’s throat. “Breathplay stuff?” he suggested.
“Did you bring the tunes first?” Rala asked him.
“Oh, yeah.” Tazmin nodded to his discarded armour, and the sonic blaster he’d left propped up against it. “The disc’s in there.”
“Kargil, go put it on,” Rala ordered. Running music through a system designed for battlefield conditions was one thing, but the benefits of being back on board their ship included access to really premium sound systems. Kargil got everything hooked up and started it going.
Rala felt the vibrations right through the ceramite plating his ribs, pounding in the air-spaces of all three lungs. The cushion-beast rippled underneath him. He groaned in pleasure. This was it. This was the life. This was why they were on the superior side, unlike all those humourless dull loyalist brothers listening to monotone chanting though tinny servo-skulls and looking down at their flaccid penises without the slightest idea that anything other than piss might come out of them.
His pets liked the music too. They were writhing sinuously, sighing sweet and prettily, blissed out. Sara moved on his cocks in time with the beat, the wet slapping of it lost amongst the other noise but certainly adding something to it. Her back arched and she came in a gush of fluid, then again. Her eyes rolled back in her skull and she just kept on coming, endless waves of ecstasy taking her over. She leaned forward and started to claw at her own skin, which peeled off of her and shed in thin, loose sheets, mucous-slick. Rala didn’t have time to do anything about it. Sara gasped in further pleasure, freeing herself of the last of her old flesh and shaking the mucous off like a hound. A fine fuzz of fur covered her whole body, and three whip-like tails waved in the air behind her. Her breasts were at least a third again the size they’d been before, her eyes were bigger and slitted like a cat’s, she had cute little claws, fangs, and an even cuter little dick bouncing ballsless where her clit had been. Thankfully she still had her cunt, otherwise that would have been problematic for both of them.
“Masterrrrrrrr,” she mewed, and her new dick spurted hot, sticky cum all over his abs. “I… what just happened, Master?”
Rala turned to glare at Tazmin. “This is your fault,” he said. “What kind of music do you call this?”
“Oh, stop complaining and shut up,” Tazmin replied, and stuck a thick tentacle of a tongue down Rala’s throat and out his secondary mouth.
Okay fine. They could talk about it later.