I need a break. So I'm dumping everything I have in the pipeline and disappearing for a week or two.

Below is something I had in the works for a while. An excerpt the **Codex Supplement: Order of the Unyielding Rod**

I've tackled little bits of it here and there. Maybe one day I'll release the whole thing. 

I created the initial images as inspiration for the founding event. And the other images more recently. The short Lore excerpt is below:

----------------------------------------


Adepta Sororitas — Secretis Rodis Fragmentum



In the ash-choked shadow of Sanctorum Penitentia, a conclave of Battle Sisters gathered beneath a sky undulating with warp storms. Their torches flickered with righteous fury as they encircled a pyre, its kindling stacked high around a bound figure: a naked young woman, the flesh of her exposed breast branded "MUTANT", a masculine organ nestled timidly between her thighs, its existence a violation of the God-Emperor’s holy form. Beneath her sacrilegious protrusion, her small testicles were shrunken with terror. The puckered star of her anus, not unlike the 8 pointed emblem of Chaos, quivered with fear. To the gathered Sisters, this aberration was a blight upon the God-Emperor’s design, an abomination which they would purify with flame.

“Behold the corruption!” Canoness Lycia snarled, thrusting her flamer toward the woman’s groin. The congregation hissed, their bolters raised in unison. “This thing dares mock His image! Let its ashes warn the unworthy!”

As the pyre ignited, the floor rumbled, and a great thunderclap split the air.

From the pyre’s heart erupted a pillar of golden light, and unharmed within within the flames, stood a figure clad in Sisters’ garb, her aura searing the eyes of the faithful. The apparition that would come to be revered as “Saint Phallacia”, manifested before the Sisters, her name whispered by the Emperor Himself into the minds of the awestruck observers. Her visage was stern. Her eyes radiated with an effortless hatred.


“Daughters of ash,” she intoned, her voice resonating like a cathedral’s bell, “you stand amidst a rot that you cannot see!". “You burn His chosen while vermin defile your ranks.” She turned, her blistering gaze towards two Sisters at the pyre’s edge. Their eyes burst into flame and they convulsed, their veins bulging black. With a roar, their flesh split from head to groin, spilling forth twin Daemonettes of Slaanesh, their forms glistening with viscera, as they snarled obscenities. “THESE are your enemies" bellowed the Saint, "not this flesh bearing HIS sacred form!”

Saint Phallacia raised a finger towards the two slimy horrors. “These creatures have corrupted your mission Sisters, and led you astray. By the Throne’s decree, BURN.”

A surge of celestial fire engulfed the daemons. Their screams curdled the air as they melted into puddles of boiling tar, their essence obliterated by the Emperor’s channelled wrath. The Sisters fell prostrate, their zealotry shaken.

Then, the Saint disrobed.

Gasps rippled through the cohort as her holy form was unveiled: a phallus, hanging with a gentle captivation between her thighs. The Saint revealed a body both divine and profane: muscle carved by violence, and an imposing member that began to swell. The naked captor’s own cock stirred in instinctive response, and the bound girl began dripping with religious ecstasy.

“Behold the form of Terra’s Will,” she declared. “A sacred Rod, as unyielding as our faith. This ‘mutant’,” she gestured to the trembling girl, “bears the Emperor’s divine mark. A mark that He has chosen her to wield.”

The Sisters stared, their dogma warring with revelation. Saint Phallacia seized the woman’s chin, lifting her face. “Your foe is not flesh, but fear. The Warp preys on fear, fear of what you cannot comprehend. Thus, I charge you to form a NEW Order! Seek those blessed with His Rod. Shelter them. Venerate their strength, for in their gifts lies a weapon against Chaos.”

One Sister stumbled forward. “How… how can this be holy?”

The Saint’s voice was a forge’s roar. “Did He not mould humanity from dust and desire? The Rod is His gift, a conduit of His wrath and domination. Let our enemies kneel before it, or be broken by it.” She gripped her own now-hard throbbing Rod in one hand, and the Rod of the freed woman with her other. “Swear your oaths this night. Become The Order of the Unyielding Rod, strike down His foes, and let your devotion be unbending.” 

“Kneel,” the Saint commanded.

The terrified Sisters obeyed.

“The Emperor’s will is not a limp thing,” Phallacia growled. She seized Canoness Lycia by the hair, forcing her face to the young woman’s groin. “Prove your faith Sister. Serve His instrument.”

The Canoness’s lips parted. The congregation watched, frozen, as their superior began to move her head, swallowing the length of the woman’s cock over and over. Lycia gagged as divine seed flooded her throat, but held firm, refusing to spill a drop before the Saint. “Now,” Phallacia ordered the now-freed girl, “claim your tithe. Let this blasphemer’s hole bear your zeal.”

The girl, empowered by the Saint’s aura, pressed the Canoness onto all fours, her cock still hard. Without ceremony, she pressed herself fully into Lycia’s rear, and began to fuck her.

“Witness!” Phallacia bellowed, as the woman pumped harder and harder into the Canoness. “The Unyielding Rod does not take, IT CLAIMS. This will be our sacrament: to suckle the holy flesh, to offer our gates as vessels for His holy seed, or to bestow it upon our enemies. Through these bodies, we shall channel His will. With your tongues, you shall taste of His truth.”

One Sister broke from the group and retched. Phallacia turned her gaze upon her, and the Sister was reduced to ash.

“The Order begins tonight,” the Saint declared. “Seek those blessed with His Rod. Bring them into your cloisters. Protect them. Let these rituals of the flesh bind you - worship his holy Rods, worship his holy Seed, until the screams of our enemies becomes a hymn.”

With a final thrust, the freed woman spilled inside the Canoness. Lycia collapsed, her rear leaking relentlessly. Phallacia smiled. “Rise, Daughters of the Order of the Unyielding Rod. His enemies will never see you coming.”

Note: Saint Phallacia’s name is scrubbed from all Imperial records. Those who utter it risk... enlightenment.

Taking a break for a bit. Content dump incoming: Origins of the Order of the Unyielding Rod [TL;DR warning on the image description]