The Imperial Orphan
On the shrine world of Ultima Macharia sat a 12 year old boy remorsefully on his knees in front the orphanage he has called Home all his life. There he begins his daily prayers of Contrition, Purity and Redemption to a shrine dedicated to the Holy Saints of the Emperor. The middle of the shrine had a grand pict of the Master of Mankind in all his righteous glory, next to the picture was a statue of Lord Commander Solar Macharius, Saint Celestine and number of other Living Saints on either side of the Emperor. Each statue was carved to match their respective Saints in near perfect detail but the dull, well kept stone tremendously fails to capture the Saints divinity. The scenery of shrine was tranquil, calming and divine as a place of worship.
A whip bit into the boy's back, making him fill with grueling pain. Through the agony the boy still thanked the Emperor for the cleansing pain, filling his mind with pure worship. A woman's voice called out to him.
"Peccator Franklin Sevenson, you are here to repent for your Heretical Heritage. You may Confess your Sins for the Judgement by the decree of the Holy Emperor." The nun said sternly, her voice bringing righteous, cleansing fury to his tainted heart as he thinks of his sins.
"I repent for the Sins of my Parents, for they have turn away from the Light of the Emperor..." He begins his confession.
The whip bit into his bare back again. Cleansing pain racks his mind and body but he embraces it as purges the evil within his soul.
"I repent for the Sins of my Father: Luke Sevenson Traitor Astartes Chaos Lord, for he has is a mockery and abomination of the Emperor's Divine Protectors…" He confesses . The pain burning hot not only from his wound on his body but from the cleansing of the soul at the Emperor's touch.
"I repent for the Sin of my Mother: Wendy Sevenson Champion of Slaanesh, for she has aided the Arch Enemy so faithfully that she became a favored servant of the Dark Prince…" He confesses. The pain intensifies as another righteous gash makes itself home on his tainted flesh.
"I repent for the Sin of my Birth, for it was conceived not only by abominable heretics but was convinced within a single bloodline…" Shame tightens its hold on his heart and throat as the truth he speaks brings a crushing weight upon his soul, threatening to steal his breath at a moments notice.
The confession continues for a full hour as Franklin confessed his sins to the nun. The boy was whipped like this several times a day, to pay for the terrible sin of his birth. His day in the orphanage was strictly ordered into set time periods, set times for scourging, set times for study, set times for prayer.
Franklin had only ever known his life in the Orphanage of Strict Chastisement, he had been taken from his heretical parents by the Holy Inquisition when he was only a few days old, and had been deemed young enough to be considered redeemable with an appropriate life of discipline and servitude.
Franklin felt filthy just thinking about his vile heritage, and welcomed the whip to scourge away his shame. He had been created by heretical incest in the womb of vile heretics. He had no purity in his blood, nothing to be proud of in his heritage. This vile woman had grown him in her filthy womb, passed him out of her depraved ovaries, and suckled him with her filthy heretical body fluids.
By the Emperor, forgive me…
Franklin felt the heresy of his blood all the time. The weakness of his soul, the unstable emotions, and the vile urges.
He felt so defiled, so unclean that he even asked prayed that he be purged at the stake and his soul cast into oblivion if he could not cleanse himself. He welcomed the whip, welcomed the penitence, he Needed to be punished for the terrible sins he carried.
Every morning and every night he thanked the Emperor that the Inquisition had rescued him from his vile parents. He thank the Emperor that he had been spared from being raised by that filthy harlot. He thank the Emperor for this strict orphanage to flog the Sin from his body, he thank Him for the bone chilling baths, caned bloody knuckles, countless prayer vigils and blessed education.
Franklin welcomed the pain like a old friend as the lash bit him again, filling him with such strange peace to be flogged, beaten and humbled. This orphanage was so soothing to his soul, cleansing it of any damnable trace of his heretical heritage. He felt so complete when the guilt was chastised out of him.
Franklin focused his attention on the faces of the Holy Saints as he confessed his Sins. The strict stern unmoving faces in the images gazed down at him, merciless and condemning. Franklin embraced this righteous Judgement, tormenting himself penitently for his Sins.
The whip on his back stung deeply, wracking him with extremely sharp pain, and the agony gave him a deep sense of peace and cleanliness. The more it hurt, the more it cleansed his soul and the more peaceful he felt because of it. Franklin loved the lash, as a true penitent should.
"Peccator Franklin, you may rise." The nun said suddenly as she stopped.
The lashing ended, exactly one hour. Perfectly on time.
"Sister, May the Emperor smile upon up and your sisters." Franklin thanked the nun profusely without breaking discipline for his well deserved punishment.
She nodded sternly and she began to recite the prayer for the end of his scourging.
"Peccator Franklin. Your sins has been Confessed and the Emperor welcomes you back into his Holy Light, walk along his Path and you will find Salvation within your soul." The nun said religiously.
Franklin felt light and thankful as he padded barefoot out of the stone scourging platform, and walked barefoot down the cold stone floor of the walkway in front of the orphanage gardens.
Every step Franklin took was measured and timed, every part of his day followed a strict routine, down to the timing of each step he took for if he ever diverted from this path he would face damnation. There was nothing done except what was told, he had been trained over a lifetime of strict discipline and righteous training to not even breathe out of rhythm. He was not to move in any way that deviated from the strict routine.
Other children filed out of other scourging platforms, and joined the walk in measured steps. Every step and movement was timed perfectly to let children join the line seamlessly, in strict ranks without deviation. All looked straight ahead with perfect discipline, a lifetime of strict training showing its mark.
The ranks of children marched in lockstep, wheeling in disciplined ranks around corners, marching up cold stairs, and into a stone keep. It was dark, but the children didn't even slow. They formed disciplined ranks and files, and stood at attention in even in pitch blackness.
They were to stand here at perfect attention for an hour, no matter what the keep was like, like they did at this time every day. The Keep has its own climate control interface that could simulate any weather on the planet and some not natural to Ultima Macharia.
One time the room Franklin was in had been flooded up to their chins once they were in position and they were to not to move as the water suddenly flooded or disturb it once it settled. The room could be as cold as a winter storm, as hot as a sandy desert, as bright as the Emperor's light, as dark as the shadows where his enemies hide or a combination of all.
Today it was simulating a hail storm in complete darkness. The the boys knew that the nuns would know if the break discipline even in zero visibility. So they held, even as frozen rain pelted their uncover eyes. They did not move, flinch, or break the perfect discipline they had themselves in.
Franklin was completely soaked and had extremely hard rain deliberately pelting him in his face. It was hard and uncomfortable, but Franklin didn't move a muscle.
The wind howled as it pelted freezing rain into these children's faces, as they stood alone at attention in this terrible weather, in complete darkness but none of them so much as fidgeted. All stood with perfect discipline, accepting the punishment and discomfort without question.
These were all the children of heretic parents, taken by the Imperium at very young ages before the parents could corrupt them with heresy. This high security orphanage had raised them from infancy, raised in the most strict upbringing imaginable, with constant routine beatings and punishment. Without any mercy or compromise.
This was the only life these children had ever known, just pain, guilt and discipline. They had known no other life, and had accepted this treatment as normal, the only way children do.
In time these children would become valuable servants of the Emperor. Utterly loyal, disciplined, and ready to die for their beloved Emperor but they still had many more years to go till then.
All of these children carried terrible guilt for the sins of their parents. All of them welcomed the lash to soothe their guilt, even yearned for the lash, to ease their terrible shame.
Franklin did not move for the whole hour, staying still as a statue in the freezing simulated rain. He savoured the added discomfort of the rain, drew peace from the punishing aspect it caused. He was always at his most peaceful when he suffered, and he silently thanked the Emperor as the heavy rain became stinging hail in the face.
Small sharp hailstones were blasted into his face by the screaming wind, and he felt cleansed by the painful discomfort. His heart felt light as he suffered, keeping the guilt away and just letting him enjoy peace.
Franklin was disappointed when the loud siren rang out to indicate the end of the hour. The children turned together in a single fluid motion and marched along their set route to their next assigned duty.
Franklin Sevenson sat in the bathtub washing himself with soap. The bathtub was full with freezing water, and had ice blocks floating in the water for temperature maintenance. Franklin sighed in deep peace at the agonising cold, savouring the cleansing and numbing pain. He methodically washed himself in the set routine, not deviating in a single motion. He had done this thousands of times before and didn't even have to think about it. Today had been fortuitously painful but had otherwise been the same as any other day. He had been scourged 3 times, stood at attention in the rain, had prayer vigil, had study, been caned at the routine times, eaten meals, and had exercise out in the rain.
Just the usual routine…
His skin was mostly intact as the scourging whips were designed to maximise pain without breaking the skin, most of the time so that he could keep being punished each day without needing to heal. He was daily given medicine to stop him getting sick and nothing broke his routine of peaceful chastisement. Franklin finished washing and sat at attention in the bathtub, enjoying the biting sensation it caused. He felt an especially terrible pain now ever since his testicles had descended, digging deep into this most sinful area, making it shrink with agonizing about the pain to this area was especially peaceful, pleasant almost.
With that sinful thought Franklin looked down and to his utter horror discovered that he had an erection. Dread filled his heart as he desperately willed it to go down to no avail. Franklin blushed crimson with shame. This was so sinful he was afraid of possible damnation. The water was cold and should have stopped this sort of thing from even being possible. His testicles were shrunk so small that they felt like they were being crushed in a vice. The pain in his testicles was excruciating, but for some reason this pain was giving him an heretical swelling.
Emperor Forgive Me…
Franklin immediately called for assistance, he needed to stop this right now. One of the orphanage nuns came to him asking. "What is it Peccator?"
"I have a Sinful Swelling!" Franklin explained with desperation in his voice. The nun looked down and recoiled in disgust.
"Filthy Peccator! Stand up at attention, Now!" The nun roared in outrage. Franklin instantly stood at attention, hands behind his back and completely soaked. His member was standing stiffly erect, heretically refusing to go down.
The nun walked out and returned a minute later with a cane but Franklin didn't move a muscle.
The nun swatted the head of his genitals with shocking force, wracking Franklin with agonizing pain but to Franklin's horror the erection simply became harder. The nun swatted it again and again, but it engorged even more. Franklin desperately willed it to go down but some intense feeling of inevitability was growing inside his manhood. The nun swatted it so hard that she broke the cane and Franklin felt a feeling of intense pleasure. Something was pushed out of his penis by unstoppable muscle contractions.
His own body is betraying him to do these sinful actions.
The nun screamed in outrage and Franklin was horrified with himself.
What had he just done...