You were a cultist, follower of Chaos, taken by loyalist Astartes, the idea to see if you could be uninfluenced by Chaos. At first their actions were harsh, but they switched to a much more tender way.

No longer where you met with the rough feel of hands, but rather soft hands. It felt good. The soft actions practically had you melted into their hands.

Now sitting on the lap of the Brother-Captain, the feeling of touch down your back, the occasional movement of his hips, it was bliss.