Infiltration Vacation

A Short Story by Bo Blackstar

[f/m, gangbang, Warhammer 40k, the lady is like “nah nah, fuck me better tho,” getting caught]

[Location]: Ilorian II

[Designation]: Pleasure World

[Mission Objective]: Investigate suspicion of Chaos cult presence in the resort known as Saint Elia’s Embrace.

[Agent Profile]: Drusilla Kaltros. Age 36 (chemical rejuvenation renders biological age 24). Adeptus-trained assassin. Ties to wealthy merchant family in sector provide easy credentials for entry to suspect pleasure resort.

[Operation Status]: Initial infiltration successful. Investigation in progress.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The pleasure world was every bit as beautiful as advertised. From her room at Saint Elia’s Embrace, Drusilla could look out over the lush jungles below the cliffs. The skies were tinged with blues, purples, and pinks as the tiny handful of moons drifted from end to the other. The resort itself offered every luxury, including those that caused her to be here. Intoxicating substances derived from local flora were readily available, and not yet regulated. Pleasures of the flesh were offered in abundance, from pampering and massages to sexual services. Most were provided by the indigenous Ilorians, bronze-skinned people who had only been shown the Emperor’s light a single generation ago, when the planet was rediscovered by the Imperium. The almost unbelievable speed with which the planet was classified and the resorts built was a further point of concern for her superiors. As it stood now, the vast majority of the servants at Saint Elia’s Embrace were locals whose grasp of the Gothic language was somewhat tenuous. All positions of authority were, of course, filled by company officials from off-world.

The assassin had only been at the resort for a few days and was already convinced there were more taboo experiences to be had. It was just a matter of getting offered such things, and Dru was certain that would come soon. She’d done just about everything she could to build a reputation as a shameless, thrill-seeking slut. It was only a matter of time before someone came along to offer a more depraved diversion. After that, it would be up to Dru to determine if the activities constituted heresy.

Drusilla had many fine qualities, but patience was not one of them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Harder!” Drusilla cried, digging her nails into the shoulders of her broad, beautiful lover. Dark hands gripped tighter to the milk-white flesh of the assassin’s hips and the servant did his best, causing her whole frame to judder with each impact as he hammered his cock into her with fierce determination. Beads of sweat from long exertion pattered onto Drusilla as they were shaken free from the tenacious native. Her long, naturally silver hair was strewn about her head at all angles, large locks plastered to her face by her own perspiration. Her deep breathing was carefully measured, a skill now exercised purely out of reflex.

Drusilla looked up at her lover and saw his eyes closed, his face contorted by strain as he balanced the opposed needs of going hard and holding back his own impending release. His third in two hours, if Dru was keeping track correctly. She dropped her hands to her ample breasts and squeezed hard, pinching and tugging at her nipples with just the right pressure, letting out another long, hungry moan.

The servant’s thrusting started to flag and grow clumsy again.

“Don’t stop!” Dru shouted. “Faster! Fuck me faster!”

Setting his jaw, the drained servant gave it everything he had left, driving into the assassin’s warm cunt as if it would be his final act. Drusilla arched her back and bit her lower lip, her legs cinched around his waist.

“Yes!” she screamed. “Cum! Cum for me now!”

Her lover let out a ragged groan and changed tempo, leaning down over her as his thrusts became shallower and more desperate. Dru was already shaking, her strong inner muscles contracting around him as she rode out her climax. The man’s mouth opened in a silent exclamation, a sort of agony written across his face as he came again. When it was over, he flopped onto his side and panted, unable to move.

Drusilla took a moment to steady her breathing, and then was up. “Shhh,” she urged the bronze-skinned champion. His body was trembling now that she had finally allowed him to relax. “Rest. Close your eyes.” It was unclear whether he had any choice in the matter as he complied.

The assassin stepped into the shower of her suite and took a two-minute power rinse. While she was drying off, she rifled through the passed-out man’s belongings and snagged his employee access card. From a secret compartment in her luggage, she pulled a small device and plugged the card into it. In a minute, all the coded data was transferred to a rewritable blank, and she returned the original card to her latest lover’s pants. Dru did one more check to make sure all of her secret equipment was away before waking the man and sending him off on shaky legs. He’d served his purpose vigorously, but she doubted he’d be much good for any more for the rest of the day.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Later that night, Drusilla was sitting in the suite of another guest at Saint Elia’s Embrace. Her partner, Archimedes.

“You know you don’t have to dress like that here, right?” Dru said. “We’re supposed to be on vacation.”

Archimedes adjusted her long, heavy Administratum robes. The mousy agent of the Imperium frowned. “Well, technically the story is that you’re on vacation, and I’m supposed to be keeping you apprised of your various mercantile considerations while on holiday.”

“It’s suspicious, Archi,” Dru sighed. “Wearing something like that in this heat and humidity makes it seem like you’re hiding something.”

“It’s practical,” Archimedes huffed. A rosy blush came to the clerk’s cheeks at the thought of people seeing what she was hiding under that robe. Not only was Archi shorter than Drusilla, she was also thicker all around than the athletic assassin, and unlike her companion had no idea how to handle it when her prodigious bust inevitably drew attention. She chose to keep as much of her olive skin covered as possible to avoid it.

“Fine, fine,” Drusilla said, waving off the issue. She finished tucking herself into the winding strip of black fabric that would constitute her dress for the night. “What’s the story on the card?”

Archi tapped away at the dataslate in her hands. “It doesn’t appear to be coded with any additional verification calls or tracking information. I don’t believe security is much of a concern here.” She pulled the card from the dataslate and held it out for Drusilla.

Dru took the card and slipped it into the tiny bag where her room key and a couple other essentials were stored. “All the better. I’ll see where it gets me. You should try getting close to Sila again. She’s been here for months now. Could be into the more questionable practices already.”

The blush returned to Archi’s face as she was reminded of the noblewoman from another sector. “She makes me uncomfortable.”

“That’s because she wants to fuck you,” Dru shrugged. “She likes shy people because they make her feel powerful, which is why she doesn’t care much for me. It’s a potential lead. And besides,” she added, flashing a smile. “There’s no reason I should be the only one having fun on this job.”

Archimedes scrunched down into her robes, and Drusilla left.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Drusilla strolled confidently down the halls of one of the lower floors of Saint Elia’s Embrace. She’d already figured out that this was the level most of the upkeep facilities were on, laundry and things like that. It seemed the perfect place to try out her new access and get a peek behind the scenes. There weren’t many people around as the night grew longer, and the assassin finally picked her spot. With no one in sight, she stuck her access card into a staff-only door, and it slid open for her.

Before stepping in, Drusilla took a moment to scan the room. One of her eyes was ethereal blue in color, but the left was a stark red. The very finest in augmetic eyes, there was no additional housing required, leaving her face pristine despite the replaced organ. That mechanical eye took in the locker room before her, and after a few seconds she was able to determine that there were no cameras around to see her snooping.

So, snoop she did. The locker room was typical, filled with general service items and uniforms for the resort staff. A communal shower room adjoined it, also presently unoccupied. Drusilla was a little disappointed at missing the opportunity to see some strong bodies under running water, but this was better for the task at hand.

The next room was a small office, which the assassin picked over methodically. Rather than take the time to analyze anything in detail, she stored images with her augmetic eye to look back over later. Schedules, inventory lists, maintenance reports, that kind of thing. No oozing symbols of the Ruinous Powers were to be found just lying in a drawer, but that was to be expected. The cults weren’t always subtle, but those that bothered seemed capable of avoiding total incompetence in Drusilla’s experience.

One thing did stick out, though. A service log entry for the previous day.

Name: Sila Welleborn --- Service: 6-A

Well well, what do we have here? Drusilla wondered. The service designation was clearly a code, but most of the other entries were not coded. Massage, facial, tour, all perfectly spelled out. Drusilla even saw her own name logged and the service rendered just read, “Sexual.” So then, what did the code mean?

Before she could look further, the agent heard people entering the locker room from the hallway. Several people. Masculine voices speaking the planetary language filled the space, and Drusilla quickly put the office back into order. There was another door, likely leading into a service hallway, but using it now could give her away and the deeper she got into staff-only areas the harder it would be to dispel suspicion if she were discovered. After a minute, she heard the water running in the showers and decided it was time to move. Dru made her way very carefully out of the office and back into the locker room after finding it empty. She hurried past the open section of wall that led to the showers without making a sound. There was no call of alarm or other sign that she had been spotted, so she made her way back to the exit door. A quick glance of the hall revealed it to be empty, and she was free and clear.

Drusilla hesitated, then closed the exit door without leaving. Just a peek, she told herself, and crept over to the showers. The risk of being discovered now sent a thrill up her spine, and she took a deep breath to fill herself with the delicious scent of hard bodies and hot water. She crouched low and leaned around just enough to get a decent look, a glimmer in her natural eye.

A half-dozen strong, gorgeous young men stood beneath the steaming showerheads, clear water running in rivulets down their toned bodies. The water carried sparse suds from the gel soap as they lathered themselves clean. Drusilla chewed her lower lip, and her hands wandered across her toned figure. She cupped her milky breasts and squeezed them, manipulating her already taut nipples through the fabric of her wispy dress. While the men chatted and scrubbed, Drusilla’s self-ministrations intensified. She bent lower, leaning her shoulder against the separating wall for support, and slipped a hand between her thighs. The light fabric of the dress was simply pushed aside, and with one long finger the assassin began to tease her dampening slit. Dru toyed with herself while staring at the showering men, admiring their sculpted physiques and imagining all the fun that could be had if she just stripped down and joined them.

The ideas danced in her head, her fingers dancing between her legs, and then the door to the hall opened.

In the span of a heartbeat, Drusilla was upright and in motion. She crossed the distance between herself and the surprised servant in the doorway before he could fully process the unexpected situation. By the time he would have been able to form a question, she was on him.

The assassin pressed her lips to the newcomer’s so hard it hurt, wrapping him in a possessive embrace and pulling him into the locker room. He was a little shorter and broader than most, which Dru took advantage of by pulling his face into the valley of her breasts while she guided them back to one of the long benches. After releasing him at last, Drusilla took all of three seconds to remove her minimalist dress, wrap it tightly around her little purse, and place the bundle under the bench. She laid on her back on the raised plank of flat, dark wood, legs spread, and beckoned to the wide-eyed man.

“Fuck me…” she exhaled huskily, reaching down to stroke her pinkness and spread it for him.

The man hesitated, looking around the locker room. “Not… allowed here,” he stammered.

Drusilla’s face hardened. The indigenous people were functionally slaves, which was considered a perfectly acceptable arrangement during their reeducation into proper citizens of the Imperium. Intimidation seemed the best course of action. “Fuck me, now!” she commanded, falling back on the authority and high-born petulance she’d enjoyed growing up. “Your face, here!” she added, pointing to her wet and ready flower.

It worked. The man knelt down and kissed her lower lips with appreciated urgency. Okay, good, Drusilla thought. No objections and awkward questioning. Now I just have to hope he’s so afraid of getting in trouble he won’t mention this to anyone of authority.

A voice called from the shower and a few seconds later some of the other men rounded the corner to see what the commotion was about. Their eyes widened, a couple looking very concerned, but Dru noticed the quick grins of a few others. She grinned to match them and beckoned them over while grinding herself into the face of the dutiful man between her thighs.

This is the best mission yet, Drusilla thought, her adroit fingers wrapping around the stiffening cocks of the gathering crowd. Even better than being that senator’s mistress for a whole year. Too bad about the xenos dealings, really. He knew how to treat a lady. The fond memories faded, replaced by more immediate awareness of the thick dick in her mouth and the rest of the attention she was getting. Dark hands palmed and massaged the fullness of her alabaster bust, while others ran long trails down her toned body or stroked her face. The assassin’s deft hands were busy, pumping and teasing at the men in a shifting rotation. They were still damp from their shower, but one enterprising young man procured a bottle of lube from his locker to assist in the festivities. Drusilla rewarded his resourcefulness by directing him to get atop her and fuck her tits. She squeezed her breasts together around his hard, hot shaft for only a minute before he took over the job himself, the others jealously reclaiming the use of her deft digits while they awaited their next turn in her mouth. All the while the man between her legs worked attentively, the dance of his tongue becoming less worried and more playful as things went on. He lapped at her folds and clit with long, firm strokes of his tongue, groped her tight ass, probed her slick channel with his fingers, and sucked on her stiff little button in a spirited arrangement.

Drusilla was disappointed when she felt the attention to her nethers stop, but that feeling evaporated into a wash of bliss as her pussy was stuffed with rock-hard cock a second later. She writhed on the bench, her long legs rubbing up and down the servant’s thighs and hips while he fucked her at last. That’s the good stuff, she sighed in her mind.

The session began in earnest. They shifted positions several times, the men taking turns between her soft lips, ample tits, and slick cunt. While riding one of them on the bench, she demanded that another fuck her ass. Dru bit down on one man’s shoulder as she came, quivering and straining around the cocks inside her. The svelte assassin was accustomed to twisting herself to fit in tight spaces for infiltration, and put her talents and conditioning as a contortionist to use. When they switched positions she’d tie herself in knots, creating new angles and entirely new tight spaces for the throng of men to fuck.

After a while she got rougher with them, and made them get rougher with her. She had them pin her hands in place, slap her ass, and fuck her face. One of them finally blew his load between her breasts. Another painted her thighs and belly shortly after. They moved to the shower room, Drusilla starting out on her knees and then finishing with her face against the tile floor and her ass in the air. She had them go harder and faster, fucking her until she screamed. Her nails dug into their hips one after another as each took a turn pounding her into the floor until releasing their hot spunk into the wanton woman.

“What is this!?” a new voice shouted.

Drusilla turned to see a woman in resort uniform staring at them, clearly an off-worlder. The assassin bit her lip and went for an expression between sheepish and grossly intoxicated.

“Madam, you cannot be in here,” the supervisor barked, her bob of dark hair bouncing a bit as she shook her head.

“My ah… apologies,” Drusilla giggled, and staggered past the woman to retrieve her bundled belongings from where she’d left it. Still sopping wet from the shower, the assassin pulled her dress more or less into place and then hurried out, giggling and half-stumbling the whole time. The supervisor was glaring daggers at the servants, who were all looking everywhere but back at her, fidgeting as if they wanted to run away. Dru thought she saw one of them struggling not to cry. Another seemed to be quietly praying.

That’s not just fear of the lash, Drusilla thought as she made her way out into the hall and started heading back toward her room. They’re really scared of something. She glanced back once before turning the corner. Sorry, boys. I can’t do anything just yet. With a thought, she started going through the images she’d taken with her augmetic eye. Service 6-A, hm? Looks like sweet Sila really is worth cozying up to.

* * * * *

Mission Update Concluded