Ordo Xenos [Reydan and Kaybee]

Jonelle and Astarael were carried to safety from their respective 'rescues', treated by sisters hospitallier in a camp set up in one of the station airlocks where the marines had first claimed their foothold to begin clearing the station. While with neither showing outward signs of corruption beyond their 'rape' they were treated simply, cleaned and given what aid could be spared for them aside from the more serious cases before being left to recover peacefully a couple beds apart. All that could possibly have raised suspicion was Astarael's smile as she rested, and even that was easily mistaken as silent relief rather than the wicked satisfaction as she felt the corruption swelling around her, some in little seeds planted in the hearts and minds of the surviving inhabitants of the station but especially in the minds of her fellow retinue and her Inquisitor who glowed like candles to her sight. While they all served the emperor in name, her changes had ensured that whether they wished or not, they served Slaanesh with their hearts and their holes. Now all that was left was to bring their minds around to realizing and accepting their new lord, the greatest feat of all.


The cultist's backs were blown open by the bolt rounds and before the others could even realize what had happened they were torn to pieces by hails of full-sized Boltgun shells as the marines advanced up the street. The lower reaches of the station had long been suspected of harbouring chaos and so they were conducting quite the purge as they secured the area street by street, their bolsters levelling at Rosamond's briefly before a sergeant held up his hand as he took a closer look. "My apologies sister, for not arriving sooner to aid you, they did not make it through you to the shrine I hope?" The cathedral interior behind her was dark, and at her nod, he investigated no further, after all, even a vigilant space marine would be remiss to suspect a battle-sister of falling.

As it was, she did protect the shrine in a sense, protecting it's desecration from being discovered. Had the marines ventured in they would have destroyed it, but now, even after it would eventually be reclaimed by priests and cleaned it's desecration at her and the cultist's hands would hold sway over the church, twisting it into a perverted shadow of it's former self. Priests and priestesses alike would find themselves drawn to the same lusts as had rampaged across the station that day, slowly becoming servants of Slaanesh themselves and taking their flocks with them as their rites became more orgiastic and carnal in nature, all concealed behind the church's growing popularity until such time as it would eventually overflow into the station proper. Purges would be conducted, but until the altar was destroyed, the taint would never stop spreading...


The Astartes at the vanguard of the station's reclamation only let Henrietta live by two fortunate coincidences in the end. The first was that she was non-threatening, and they mistook her merely for another victim at first as she lay there, cum leaking out of her and immobile from the pleasure overload. Then, even when they realized she was the cause, they realized also that she was inquisitorial property, and being one of the more bureaucratically minded chapters, they elected to return her to Patience rather than risk inquisitorial wrath at the destruction of a potential asset. They wisely did so with a warning when they did, and it was a minor fortune that the team to discover the fucked-out witch was not the same one to find inquisitor Vadere showering (otherwise they might have suspected latent corruption and requested oversight and purity rites that could have undone quite a bit of Astarael's work). Between one thing and another, as rescued civilians and more ordinary troops filtered onto the station as the all clear was sounded, Henrietta found herself carried to another aid post, to be eventually retrieved by the rest of the team.


But before recovery and reunions, Patience had managed one last corrupted act in the showers of the station. Between the wet sheen of the Inquisitor's curves, the fact that she had just saved them all form summary execution or at the very least investigation with her quick thinking, and the authority that she managed to carry even at her lowest and filthiest moments, the men neither dared nor desired to reject such an invitation. "Milady Inquisitor, it would be our honour..." The sergeant spoke as he stepped forwards, cock hardening right back to full erection where fear and distraction had let it half-soften in the intervening minutes.

As before, they took her one at a time, and given what had transpired between them before, none were reluctant to treat her a little roughly unless she reprimanded them. Slapping her ass as she moaned, cheering should she come around their cocks... "Inquisitor whore..." One of them gasped as he came, "inquisiwhore!" Came another shout from the crowd, to the tune of chuckles as the man fucking her pulled out and the next took his place, bantering over her head as they filled her with cum until her well-stretched asshole dripped sticky seed that mingled with the warm water as it dripped down her legs. Even with the shower to clean her, with so much pumped into Patience she would find that lingering heat remaining deep inside for hours, and with so many cocks stretching her ass over that near-hour of perversion she would find even when all external evidence of what she had let the soldiers do to her was gone she still coukdn't keep herself from walking with a slight wobble and limp and sitting down would certainly be a little uncomfortable for the next day or so...

Inquisiwhore....

Inquisiwhore...

Whore...

Whore...

In the tight confines of the shower cubicle, the warm water cascading over her mature form, Patience Vadere, Senior Inquisitor Second Class, beloved of the God Emperor of Mankind, and Victor of the Jurgen Gamma System Heresy, ran her hands over her inner thighs and moaned like a hive-slum whore. It had been a week since the warp chaos had descended on the Space Station, since all of the group had been ravaged by the vile god Slaanesh, but all Patience could do was think about what had happened. It was easier to suppress in busy moments, and God Emperor knew she had kept busy, but when she had moments of silence such as these the voices and thoughts crept back. And the memories.

God Emperor, the memories...

She hardly noticed, in the cascade of water, that she was working her tight little asshole with a finger, even as her other hand toyed with her sex. She seemed perpetually a little horny these days....

Across the small vessel Sister Rosamond was at prayer. Or, rather, what now counted for prayer. She was sprawled on her bed, her toned form slick and shiny with oil, working her sex with a statuette of the God Emperor himself. 'Holy Father...Great Protector...Ughhh...Keeper of Human...UGH...Humanity' she moaned, her face flushed with arousal, as she completed another devotion that her now infected mind saw as holy and perfect.

It was Acolyte Jonelle, taking her turn at the helm, who spotted the incoming message about the Urden System. For a week the ship had been in space, heading to the Tau border, after reports of a Xenos incursion into Imperial Space had filtered in. Allegedly, the Tau Empire was using its Kroot allies to infiltrate and take over jungle planets on the border, building up strength hidden in the jungles before striking the cities with overwhelming power.

Jonelle mused over whether to immediately alert her commander or not. She could, on her private terminal, see exactly what each of the crew was doing. She flicked through, watching Henrietta sleep, slipping past Rosamond, and settling on her commander and mentor in the shower. Licking her lips, Jonelle began subconsciously to rub herself through the thin skin of the space suit at the sight of her Inquisitor fingering herself to orgasm.

The ship -Astarael reflected- had become much more pleasant to be aboard of late. It was no proper pleasure den of course but she could feel the arousal that hung around the others -faintly present even at the most serious moments- and even a brief exploration would yield faint scents of arousal and desire in cabins and staterooms where Patience and her entourage spent their off-duty hours. The chaos psyker sat cross-legged on her bunk, apparently meditating but for the grin on her face as her mind reached out and felt the inquisitor start to relax the mental effort she had been holding all afternoon to keep the arousal to a trickle. She had fed their cravings more gently while on the ship, giving them dreams filled with pleasure, letting them experience the most perverse scenarios their newly-twisted minds could come up with on every rest cycle. Some had resisted sleeping after the first night of the trip in response but in the weeks of transit to their next destination Astarael had known that they would have to sleep eventually, and delaying that slumber only made one sleep longer and dream more deeply in the end...

Slaanesh had one eye on them now, ready to take the eventual oaths they would swear to their service, but Astarael intended to push them a little further first, one last stop on the path before they reached corruption's terminus. At first she'd dismayed at the beacon for the T'au were hard to sense in the warp to begin with let alone corrupt, but as they drawn closer and closer to the planet a plan had begun to emerge in the Psyker's mind. While the T'au were poor vehicles to deliver corruption, their kroot allies had more of a warp presence, and the reports had it that the kroot made up the bulk of the raiding forces currently harrying the defenders of the outer jungle planets. That alone had been a breath of relief to Astarael's worries, and besides, if the Kroot would not serve, then Astarael could always co-opt the planetary defense forces and guardsmen to help out instead...

The real worry would have been that the T'au might kill one of her precious converts, and between those two possibilities, she thought she was fairly safe, though something made her uneasy as they drew close to the planet. Now that they were a day away she could faintly sense the system through the warp, and something about what registered there seemed slightly off, though she could not possibly pinpoint exactly what it was...

She shook her head with a sigh. Whatever it was, she was sure they could deal with it when they came to it, and who knew? It could always turn out to be an unexpected boon rather than an obstacle. Besides -Astarael closed her eyes again, that sly smile coming over her lips once more as she sank back into meditation- I have better ways to pass my time than worrying over that which I cannot control. The planet was a day away yet, and she could feel the many distracted minds aboard, easy to slip into and have some fun for a psyker of her skill. She visited Rosamond's mind first, giving her a hallucination of her twisted ideal of the emperor standing over, thrusting into her in time with the motions of her hand, an image that slowly changed as the pleasure grew greater, warping into one that was somewhere halfway between emperor and slaanesh as she drove herself towards orgasm, fading away only once she had cum, leaving a tingling feeling in her womanhood behind...

Jonelle and Patience on the other hand got a treatment together as Astarael realized what the acolyte was doing at the helm, and exerted a little psykinetic force, creating invisible tendrils of psychic energy inside her suit that complemented the motions of Patience' fingers as the inquisitor worked her holes underneath the shower head, matching every motion and sensation perfectly. Meanwhile as Jonelle got to feel her mentor's 'fingers' push into her on the other hand, Astarael fed Patience a vibrant hallucination that turned the shower water to thick cum raining down upon her from a circle of laughing males, some guardsmen, others strange creatures ranging from simple mutants to individuals that were visibly demonic in nature, all jeering and joking amongst themselves as they jerked their thick cocks over her face. "Lookit'er, she's cumming just from gettin it in the face!" A man that looked like a hive city ganger laughed. "What a fucking slut..." "Inquisitor Whore..." They towered over her as though she was kneeling even though in reality she still stood, cheering her on as she worked herself towards orgasm under the seemingly-endless shower of cum, fading away as she reached climax, revealing a shower of water cascading over her once more vision gone but for the chorus of 'Whore... Whore...' still ringing in her mind...

Astarael chuckled as she pulled back from their minds, breathing heavily and flushed with arousal herself. Perhaps she might manage a little fun of her own before they made orbit? At first she considered masturbation but Henrietta was sleeping, and so Astarael opted for the more interesting route and let herself slip into the witch's dreams with a smile, manifesting herself there as her own body went into a similar state of slumber. Idly, she began to wander, curious what she would find in the mind, and what Henrietta might already be up to in the dream... It would be a good way to spend the next few hours before she had to get ready for planetfall at least...

If the psyker had considered the warp trauma Henrietta had gone through, she might have thought twice about penetrating her pysche as she slept. As it was, the world unveiled beyond the curtain of sleep was something that would disturb Astarael for a long time to come.

It started off nicely enough, as the Psyker was plunged into a torrid little flesh affair. Needy lips found hers as she found herself in Henrietta's bed, the young witch naked and writhing under the covers. If Astarael had looked around she would have found herself in a hab-block, somewhere - a nameless hive city of millions upon millions. But then again, with the needy little witch running her hands over her body the Slaaneshi devotee had more than enough distractions to deal with.

It was all lips and fingers and panting breath in the dark, for a few minutes, but overlaid over it all was a terrible tension. And, when Henrietta rose and took her lover by the hand, she led her out into an awful vista. They stepped out onto a balcony that looked out over the hive city and, as Astarael emerged into the cool night air she could see a thousand red shards of light spearing down from a sky rent with terrible clouds. A hive fleet hung, dread and awful, over the skyscrapers of the city. Even as they looked two genestealers slid, silently, from the roof behind them and gripped the women. Bent over, the psyker could only look over and see Henrietta's face wrapped in a huge smile as the creature began to fuck her like an animal. Above it all, in the sky, hung the psyker's patron. But, instead of helping, all he did was watch with an arch smile as she too was fucked by the genestealer.....

What it meant, though, was impossible to say.....

The following morning the Inquisitor called her team together. She had given the all instructions to forgoe their usual armor and simply dress in the skin-tight, alluring, body suits bought at the station.

She pointed at a map of the planet's surface that shimmered above their seats, a sector of dense jungle highlighted.

'We have reports that, without the oversight of their grey-skinned masters the Kroot-xenos in this sector have gone rogue' she began, studying her crew. 'I need not tell you how unusual this is - nor how useful it will be for our forces if true. If we can learn how such a lack of control can occur we might be able to split our foes in other sectors'. She folded her arms. 'We need to capture a specimen, or possibly a group of specimens, and bring them to the sector's main city for dissection and study' she said 'so make sure you load up on non-lethal rounds. We've picked a sector with a very small concentration of kroot - so lets get in and out as quickly as we can'.

As inured to horrors as Astarael was by her long association with chaos, Astarael couldn't help but shudder at the sight of the chitinous hive ships overhead and the mutated insectoid forms of purestrain genestealers slipping into view. Tyranids were nigh-uncontrollable and single-minded and to one who valued control so highly they were quite fearsome indeed. Oh to be sure they could be mutated and directed in some ways but Astarael had never tried it herself, and as she awoke, panting and sweating with a powerful mixture of lust and fear roiling in her gut, the only thing she found she could take solace in was the ever-changing face of Slaanesh that had watched over them as witch and heretic were taken by the insectoid creatures.

But even with that slight comfort, sleep did not return easily.


As they came to approach, Astarael was quietly pleased at the order to go in without armor, though with her dream still fresh in her mind she did consider for a moment recommending that they be more cautious. However the dream would be hard to explain without giving away perhaps a little too much, since without a shadow in the warp or an outbound psionic signal about the planet an imperial psyker would have no way of knowing there could be a presence on the ground, and with all of them approaching the cusp of total depravity the last thing Astarael needed was to put cracks in their trust of her. Since no one else raised a point on the lack of armor and lethality, she did not either, and took solace in the fact that at the very least she had some time before tyranids got involved, even if she did have a fairly probable assurance that they eventually would. Until then the bodysuits would only make her 'work' easier.

As their stealth shuttle landed in a small jungle clearing, the heretic psyker reached out her mind, seeking out the nearest group of Kroot. There were a few relatively nearby, sensitive noses drawn by the faint trace emissions of their ship or the even fainter sounds of it's passage. "Three lone stragglers-" Astarael reported, pointing in the directions from which the Kroot -two of whom were stalking through the jungle alone, the third of whom had a Kroot hound by his side- as she continued "-probably picked up on our approach and we could split up and try to capture them... Alternatively Inquisitor, there's a larger group due east of here, moving perpendicular, Three Kroot and two lesser intelligences, probably captured animals or something." Astarael knew that the lesser minds belonged in fact to Kroot Hounds but the monsters were known to prefer their food fresh. Granted they mostly simply ate what they killed wherever they killed it, but they had taken crippled or wounded enemies from battlefields back to their camp in order to eat in relative safety and quiet.

"Aside from that, nothing in my range..." Astarael contrived to look apologetic with an embarrassed shrug. "Your orders Inquisitor?"

'We will round them all up' Patience said, softly, a determined look on her face.

And, for the first time since Astarael's interference with the Orks, the Ordo Xenos Kill Team worked like the well-oiled machine it had always been. There was never an opportunity for the malign psyker to exercise any influence for her dark Patron. She was always by the side of the Inquisitor, that crackling power-blade a reminder of the power of the blonde woman in command, and the dense jungle made reaching the warp difficult.

First the solitary pair of kroot warriors, both young and inexperienced, were rounded up by Jonelle, who sprung agile from the undergrowth and fired off two accurate stun rounds before they had even spotted her. The larger group came next, Henrietta lashing out with a psychic blast that stunned the kroot and hounds alike and allowed the others to spring into action before they recovered. Even the single kroot, who turned out to be a shaman of the filthy aliens, and his hound gave little trouble against the combined work of the entire group.

It was not until they returned to the ship that elements of the corruption coursing through their beings began to reemerge. Partly this was because of the confined circumstances they found themselves in - the kroot were neatly divided into a mass cell of the five warriors, a cargo hold where the three hounds paced up and down, and the shaman shackled in a solitary former store room. But even as the group approached the ship the rain had been coming down - by the time the prisoners were stored away the lashing rain had become a full-blown tropical storm. They were not returning to the city that night; instead Patience ordered them into low orbit in the shadow of a mountain. They were safe from both weather and attack, hanging their in the warm air, but effectively cut off from the outside world.

Secondly, the feral nature of the kroot had been hard to escape for the female crew. The very reason the kroot on the planet had gone rogue was the powerful lure of the jungle. It called to something feral and primal in the kroot's original DNA, despite many adaptations, and they had thrown off their few Tau handlers and filtered back into their hunter-tribal nature. But, with few females in the original expedition, the advent of the breeding cycles that the Tau usually suppressed in their allies had left many of the kroot horny and desperate. All of the women had noted, to themselves, the arousal of both hounds and humanoids as they locked them away in the bowels of the ship.

By night-time it had become a distinct background hum, the combined pheromones of the Kroot adding a very slight aphrodisiac to the air of the imperial craft.

It was about midnight that the Inquisitor called her crew together. All were still wearing those bodysuits, and the slight signs of arousal, such as the odd erect nipple or slight damp patch, gave away the corruption Slaanesh had instilled in all.

'This storm is going to keep us here for at least a day' Patience announced, looking from one to the other. 'A delay far too important for us to neglect. The Sector Command here needs information on these xenos as soon as possible'.

'They seem a dangerous breed' agreed Jonelle.

'But didn't you say, Inquisitor, that they were headed for dissection in a laboratory?' asked Rosamond, her nipples hard like bolter shell casings, 'what can we do here? None of us are trained...'

'I think we.....can...study their....group mentalities...learn about their...mutations...' the Inquisitor replied. Her vague hand gestures and faltering voice, however, suggested this plan born of arousal was starting to come apart at the seams. The group was clearly looking for a pseudo-legitimate way to slack their lust, but was currently unable to frame it in a way that their only partially corrupt minds could accept.

It was almost infuriatingly frustrating to watch as Patience' leadership bore fruit and they made their way from Kroot to Kroot, rounding the savage aliens up with all the precision their group could bring to bear. Astarael was vigilant as could be for an opening but not for even a single moment did a chance emerge for her to bring her will to bear. Really it should have been reassuring to see that even sliding towards corruption and depravity the retinue could still be an effective fighting force when the need arose but with how much hope she'd had that they might falter or stumble at the desire she could feel already rumbling inside the Kroot it still came as disappointment.

It was frustration born of uncharacteristic petulance more than anything really, but as they returned to the ship she saw the others starting to shift uncomfortably as the first drops of rain began to run down the sleek bodysuits they wore. The anticipation of an opportunity as the rainstorm lessened the frustration somewhat, and Astarael was in better spirits as she boarded the ship again, and once the Pheromones began to spread through the ship as they found and settled into their hiding place in the shelter of a windswept mountain peak it was all she could do to keep a grin from her face as she caught glimpses as stiff nipples poking through tight bodysuits or felt snatches of lust slip past mental defenses and into the ether. The pheromones were affecting her too and though it was easier for the Psyker to keep a slightly steadier head through the arousal it still took some focus for her to maintain enough attention on the others for the sake of her moment.

Only, as it turned out, she needn't have bothered waiting for a moment of lonely weakness. Where before the retinue had quite deftly spoiled her work, now Patience handed her a solution on a platter as she gathered them near the cages to discuss their present situation. Not only that, but she gave Astarael the perfect moment to step in as well as she faltered, an opportunity that was almost so easy as to be insultingly so, though the psyker did not hesitate to take it anyways...

"The Kroot species are well known for their adaptive nature and ability to survive nearly anywhere. They mutate according to their environment in order to get the most of it, yet these Kroot look very close to the baseline of their species." Astarael could feel a faint tension in the air, hope mixed with want, and she smiled. "Since they've been here for some time, there should be at least some signs of adaptation. We cannot open them them to investigate for internal mutations, but we can at the very least make an effort to thoroughly 'examine' them for external abnormalities." Astarael gave a nonchalant shrug, "we'll need to be cautious of course but they have no weapons at present and we took them all down easily enough while they were armed, we should be easy match for them should they attempt any sort of escape, and besides, where would they go?"

It was series of totally logical evaluations that wouldn't stand up for two seconds to a rational and capable team of Inquisitorial officers, but could easily appeal to a team of horny half-corrupted ones. "All by your leave of course Inquisitor Vadere," Astarael sketched a half salute as she concluded her proposal, then left off with one parting shot. "If that plan is not to your liking, we could always wait out the storm. The captives are secure now and while the risks are minor there may not be much to be gained in tempting fate..."

'Minor risk' was an extraordinary understatement in truth, but the suggestion that the only alternative was to simply try to sit and wait through the frustration she knew they were experiencing? If anything could push them to taking such a foolish course, that would be it...

Patience was already nodding as the psyker spoke, her arms folded beneath her impressive breasts. The nipples were erect and forcing out the membrane of the fabric already.

'Yes, yes, an inspection' she nodded, looking as serious and demure as usual despite the growing burning in the pit of her stomach. The growing need. The itch that she had spent all that time in the shower scratching in vain. Jonelle was, too, already nodding along to the plan.

'Fetch the Shaman' the Inquisitor instructed and, within a minute or two, Jonelle and Rosamond had appeared with the elder kroot held firmly by the arms. Patience led the way into the containment cell, shutting and locking the door behind her, and contemplated the kroot xenos before her. They had moved to the back of the room, in a group, but she could see even from that distance the five erect shafts bobbing up and down as the aliens moved about. Watching the women. Her mouth was dry.

'Secure the Shaman' she instructed to Rosamond, who kept a firm grip on the xenos's left arm and grimaced. He had, all women noticed, a bigger cock and four testicles instead of the usual two. Shamans in kroot society were the source of the race's renowned fertility and, as they aged, developed more potency through testicular growth. This one, seasoned in the ways of his people and others, smiled sagely. He could taste the arousal of the women in the room. It was not a psychic sense - more a base animal instinct.

'Come here' instructed Patience and, after a look from the Shaman told them it was alright, the warriors slunk closer. Patience dragged one forward so that it stood before the assembled women.

'The Kroot are built for warfare' she began, a bare hand trailing down the muscular xenos chest. 'Bred for combat and conquest'. Jonelle's thighs were already rubbing together a little bit, and Henrietta was running her hands lightly up and down over her hips. 'Bred for breeding too' she continued, her hand dipping lower and lower, until it caught hold of the erection.

'Mmmm'. A little moan escaped her mouth. She began to lightly rub the cock in her hand.

The women were so close now - and had not even thought about what the Kroot might do, let alone under the influence of an experienced shaman.

The shaman glanced to the Warriors stilling them with a look and waiting patiently as the inquisitor began her 'inspection' of his form. His eyes slid over the others, taking each of them in with a long look and seeing the arousal mirrored in their motions and in their postures. These females were clearly in heat though it seemed as though they were resisting it to some degree, something that the shaman considered odd given how clearly their lust was on display to a male. For reasons behind his comprehension they simply weren't offering themselves to be bred yet, and so he stayed his hand for the moment, watching as the apparent leader -another oddity since female kroot did not lead- drawer her hands down his body.

He growled softly as Patience' hand touched his cock, her palm velvet and silk compared to the rough grip of a kroot. The shaman knew thatthe inquisitor's arousal would see her filled with his seed in time, but for the moment he watched, wondering just how long the female human would be able to keep up her teasing before she succumbed to her own desires. The strength of will the women had was something incredible to his eyes, to hold themselves back even when they so clearly wanted it...

The spike in hormones, in open lust and raw want as the collected agents took in the Xeno shaman and -perhaps more importantly to them- the thick cock between it's legs. The kroot were watching them as they gathered, their own members stiffening further as they too sensed the spike in the arousal of the gathered women. Keen senses caught deeper breaths, sharp eyes picked up on flushed skin. Human women may have been another species but the hunters knew heat well enough, and there was no doubt between them what the others wanted. The shaman thought for a moment, letting the inquisitor do as she wished. He was fascinated by these human women and their apparent capacity for willpower to still be standing where kroot females would have bent over and begged by now but in truth, he was most curious about the inquisitor. He was sure by now that if any of the other women had approached him first they would already be filled with his shaft by now and yet this woman still resisted, even with him in her grip she held back.

The shaman wished to see how long Patience could live up to her namesake before she finally gave over and either fucked herself on his cock or begged him to mount her, but he saw no reason to subject the other females to the same treatment. Where a glance before had stilled the Warriors, now a second glance gave them permission to act, and act they did, stepping away from the far wall. The other females were not worth his time personally and so he gave permission for his Warriors to relieve them of the burden of their desires, but this leader might be worthy of a proper breeding from him. He had no idea if such a thing was possible of course, but that was no reason not to try, the pack could certainly use her mental fortitude...

While Patience stood transfixed the five tall Kroot Warriors stepped towards her retinue, five thick and rock-hard cocks bouncing with every step they took, astounding Astarael with the raw and potent desire they exuded from them. It was no psychic phenomena that she could detect, no trick of the warp or witchcraft. They stepped forwards and their mere presence made the heretic Psyker's knees weak, forcing her to instinctively expend mental effort just to keep herself from dropping to her knees and setting her face to the floor of the cell for them to drive those thick cocks into her. Without meaning to she licked her lips and realized that she was losing a battle of wills with something that hadn't even the faintest scrap of psyker potential, a fact that was both exhilerating and terrifying.

Privately, she tried to send a thought to Rosamond, one last request, that the heretic witch help her by releasing the hounds in the hold as well...
Then the first Kroot warrior was a foot away from her and she sank to her knees, obeying the silent command that was his presence as she took his cock in both hands and began to suckle it, liberally spreading saliva over the shaft with her tongue. The Kroot was almost taken aback by the approach in fact since the Xeno were rather literal minded about breeding being for breeding, but Astarael being a servant of Slaanesh and an expert in pleasing someone with her mouth, he wasn't about to complain. Around him, the other four warriors carried on towards the rest of the acolytes, ignoring Patience but eagerly moving towards each of the other girls...

'Inquisi..whore...' Jonelle moaned out, across the room, as the large kroot warrior behind her reached around and took her breasts in his rough clawed hands. As Patience turned around, to see the source of the voice, the others all followed her gaze. It seemed like, for a moment, the kroot were forgotten. Jonelle had misspoken, letting the secretive whispers of her earlier lust crowd out her common sense, and now the crew watched like hawks. Waited for the reaction from the older woman.

'Yes?' replied Patience after a moment, and it felt as though the bond that held the group together had shifted somewhat. That now they were bound together in something else besides sheer duty and piety.

Emboldened, Jonelle continued as the Kroot behind her toyed with her breasts. 'Do you not think that the experiment would be better if the xenos were given the run of the ship, Inquisiwhore?' she asked, gasping in pleasure at the toying hands, and feeling more confident about using Patience's new title.

With the psychic suggestion of Astarael ringing in her ears, the little witch added 'Should we not also release the hounds Inquisiwhore?'

Patience's face burned. She was, deep down, humiliated by the liberal use of this corrupted title. But she was, also, a little pleased by it. Moreover, the earlier imprinting that Astarael had left on her mind encouraged her to see this humiliation as something intensely arousing. Her breath came in heavy sighs as she continued to pump the impressive cock of the Shaman standing next to her. She bit her lip, for a moment, before nodding authoritatively. 'So ordered' she said and, that done, walked imperiously from the store room. She led the Shaman by the cock and, walking past where the hounds were coming sniffing out of their pen, led the Shaman by his thick rod through and into her cabin. As the door closed behind her, she unzipped her suit and let it fall away, reveling her mature body. Lying back on her bed she spread her legs eagerly for the xenos leader. 'Breed me xenos' she half-moaned half-gasped, her voice raspy with need, 'let me study your techniques...'

Outside the rain battered the ship, unrelenting in its downpour, and it was clear to all involved that they would be stuck here for the next forty hours or so. Or it would have been clear if any of the crew or their erstwhile prisoners were paying any attention. Neither Jonelle nor Astarael made it out of the store room turned prison cell. Within minutes both were on their knees, bobbing their heads and lavishing attention on the cocks before them. Their asses bobbed, invitingly, facing the doorway through which the kroot hounds started to pad.

The other two women took the Inquisiwhore's instructions to open up the ship more to heart. Rosamond found herself bending over a control panel, looking back over her shoulder coyly at the advancing kroot warrior behind her. Henrietta, meanwhile, had followed Patience's example and taken the final two warriors by the shafts and led them over to the communal area behind the control panels. From here she would be able to see Rosamond get fucked, and intervene if needed, but also have enough space for a threesome. 'Now, I want to see how rough a kroot warrior or two can be with a prize' the little witch said in a simpering tone. 'So do your worst...'

Even as she surrendered to desire the Shaman found himself impressed. Unlike his warriors he understood some gothic even if he could not speak the language and for all that she requested his seed she still wasn't begging for it, not yet at any rate. He stepped forwards, taking in the curves of Patience' body -softer than a kroot female but enticing nonetheless and close enough in physiology where it mattered- and reaching down to grip her by the thighs, holding her so that she could not buck against him. His cock was like a mighty spear, thick as the inquisiwhore's arm easily a full foot in length, yet while he gave no thought to whether a human body could take such a penetration, he did not push into her immediately.

No... The shaman had not heard the female beg for him yet, and he intended to make her beg before he fucked her. He wanted to see her break as he set the shaft against her dripping cunt and rolled his hips, dragging the thick meat of his length against her entrance slowly, leaving a coating of shining arousal all along the underside of his manhood until the very tip rested against her entrance and his claws tightened to ensure that she could not push herself onto him as he teased her with the penetration.

Then he took it away, setting the base of his cock against her womanhood to begin the same motions anew, a process he was willing to repeat until the former Inquisitor was the bitch in heat he wanted her to be. He had Patience to spare after all, and maybe just a small urge to take a measure of revenge for fallen Kroot by humiliating her too...


The Kroot warriors and their hounds on the other hand did not see any need to restrain themselves with such already-eager females. The two that remained in the Cargo hold were more than happy to submit themselves to the new experience of oral sex from the Assassin and the Heretic Psyker while the hounds mounted the two of them from behind, placing webbed paws on the shoulders of the pair as they thrust with characteristic animal aimlessness, pushing their hips forwards again and again until they finally managed to slip themselves into a hole. They didn't particularly care which hole of course, and Jonelle unexpectedly found a pointed cock pushing roughly into her ass instead of her pussy, but the hound wasn't about to try again now that it had achieved penetration, and as it began to thrust, there was no Guarantee that Jonelle would even want him to stop as that shaft filled her deeply with powerful strokes of the canine creature's hips.

While Astarael got off light with the hound spreading her womanhood open on the other hand, she had made an entirely different mistake of showing off for the warrior that towered over her by taking his cock into her mouth. Now he seemed determined to see just how much would fit past her lips and down her throat and it was a struggle to remain conscious as her neck bulged with Xeno cock, lewdly distended by his girth. Had it not been for her service to slaanesh the throat-fuck might have been lethal, but as it was she could take it, and the discomfort of being pushed so far beyond normal human limitations was eased by the sensation of the hound eagerly fucking her once it managed to find her entrance and slam home.


Rosamond was closer to a Kroot warrior with her toned body and defined physique, and while some of the Alien warriors might have been compelled to slight tenderness for worry that these softer females might break under the strain, the one approaching her felt no such compulsion to restraint. He set his cock against her entrance and then -in a single bitch-breaking thrust- slammed all eleven inches of wrist-thick shaft into her. He roared as he filled her all the way to her womb, a primal cry of exultation ringing in the chamber as some of the Battle-Sister's juices were forced out around the thick shaft with a lewd squelching sound, to be answered by similar cries as the two enjoying Henrietta took similar pleasure. Those two had been planning to take it easy on the almost waif-like little witch but while they understood no gothic, the tone of voice conveyed a rather unambiguous directive of 'Fuck me Hard' and some psychic impressing removed any doubt of interpretation that might have lingered after that. The first of them lifted her from behind, placing the tip of his cock against her tight asshole while the other set himself up similarly against her womanhood. They pushed slightly, easing their members into her ensuring that there would be no accidents, then -with neither warning nor ceremony- they let go, letting gravity do half the work of dropping the witch onto the twin shafts while upward rolls of their hips did the other half.

In both cases, once the initial penetration sank home, the Kroot moved to take control. Rosamond would find claws cinching around her waist as the warrior drew back, attempting to hold her in place as he drove into her, building a rhythm of deep and steady thrusts that went from just shy of the tip to the very base of that magnificent manhood each time, low snarls of exertion and pleasure sounding from above as the Warrior fought the tightness of her body every step of the way. The two with Henrietta on the other hand still ha gravity on their side, and opted for shorter and faster thrusts, building up a steady alternation between them as they rapidly bounced her on their cocks. Whenever one was pulling back, the other was thrusting, and vice verse, ensuring that she was never left without a xeno shaft inside her or the sensation of cock sliding in and/or out of her for even a second...

Patience's mature body was shaking now, her skin flushed and beaded with sweat. Her sex was so aroused it was practically dripping, a little pool of arousal staining the sheets beneath her as she watched the shaman towering above her. Why wasn't he fucking her? Her body ached for release, her mouth agape in desire and desperate need, but no sweet release came. She moaned, low and aroused, as the thick cock gently prodded at her entrance, but his clawed grip on her thighs prevented her from simply lunging forward onto him.

'Come on xenos' she growled, looking him dead in the eye. Her lust was almost manic in nature, driving her forward like a whip. She bared her teeth at the Kroot. 'I know you can understand me. I can see it in your eyes. Fuck me. Use me. Make my body your plaything.' She was resisting the urge to squirm, staying perfectly still apart from her ragged, shuddering, breathing. 'Fuck me alien. Do it. Do it now. Come on. COME ON'.

'Come on, come on, come on'. Henrietta was chanting, her green eyes rolled back into her head, as the two Kroot warriors pounded her relentlessly. She was suspended above the floor of the rec-area, her small body impaled on their alien shafts, and her entire body seemed given over to pleasing the aliens. Slaanesh had opened her eyes, even if she only suspected his influence at this stage, and now she was unleashed as a carnal being again. The penance of her subjugation to the Inquisitor was forgotten - this was what was important.

Rosamond was thrown against the panel of switches and knobs by the savage thrust from behind. Her fingers scrambled for purchase on the smooth metal as the xenos shouted his triumph. She could feel his cock deep inside her, threatening to break her open entirely, and she gritted her teeth to take the impact. The lewd squelching noise of her aroused sex meeting the alien's throbbing cock was too much. She came, juices coating the cock and dribbling down her inner thigh. It was all she could do to keep thrusting, pushing back, her body aching. She looked up, just once, from the control panel and saw the Emperor smiling down at her from on high. Turning over her shoulder, she looked the xenos in the face. 'Deeper' she moaned, her meaning clear from her expression in any language.

Jonelle moaned a little when the hound's paws hit her shoulder and braced for the impact of the beast sliding its own cock into her sex. Her eyes went wide when it, instead, worked her ass, but within moments she was moaning and writhing at the welcome intrusion. She redoubled her efforts, squeezing and milking the balls of the kroot before her.

The hound currently fucking Astarael's pussy, though, faced stiff competition from the third animal unable to find a place. Meanwhile the young kroot warrior she was blowing was the most aggresive of the pack. His youthful age drove him on relentlessly and he had the psyker's dark hair in his hands, roughly fucking her face. Meanwhile the hounds competed for the privilege of spreading open her sex with their massive members.

Astarael was lucky that even though she was being assaulted by two hounds, they were simply too physically imposing to stand side by side and get both their cocks into her at the same time. A small blessing when her throat was being forced open by thick kroot cock for her troubles, but a blessing nonetheless as she did her best to work against the thrusts he was driving down through her lips from above, threatening to dislocate her jaw with his rough and vigorous motions. Silently she was workshopping positions that would let her take all three males -both hounds and the warrior- at the same time but while she had a few ideas, her position was not exactly conducive to taking any sort of control. Fortunately, she knew quite well that all involved would be up for many more rounds after this one, so she was quite content to wait until they blew their loads before she would make her move...

Jonelle's Kroot looked slightly annoyed at the hound seeing as unlike the slaaneshi-blessed psyker's throat, the Assassin's handjob wasn't -in his mind at least- about to match up to the sensation of her cunt wrapping around his shaft. However the hound did not seem moved by his frustration, thrusting away with that feral singlemindedness that only a beast could muster, neither aware nor caring that he had slid it into the incorrect hole to breed her properly. It was hot and tight, she was moaning with pleasure, as far as the hound was concerned, that was all that mattered... As the slender little assassin redoubled her efforts though under the intensity of the stimulation, the warrior was caught off guard by the sudden intense stimulation and before he could hold himself back he came hard, showering Jonelle with thick greyish semen!

Unfortunately for her, this only made the warrior angry that she had -intentionally or not- humiliated him, not just by turning him into the first of them to release but also by the fact that he had done it outside rather than pumping it into her like a female deserved. Frustrated, the warrior grabbed the hound by the scruff and shoved him backwards, canine cock coming free of Jonelle's asshole with a squelching pop as the beast was flung away and the kroot moved to take his place with speed born of anger. He grabbed the assassin by the head, shoving her face to the floor and sticking her ass up in the air as he lined up with her cunt and rammed it into her, his cock apparently not diminished in the slightest by having covered her in cum a moment ago...


Elsewhere in the ship, the two warriors enjoying Henrietta were about to be the second and third of their band to orgasm, driven beyond control by the witch's tight holes and the sensation of their thick shafts rubbing against each other through the thin membrane separating one from the other. The one in her ass was first, driven over the edge by the tightness of it. He sank into her with a roar, spurting white-hot spunk deep inside her while his companion kept thrusting before pulling out of her with a sloppy sucking sound as the pulsing bursts of seed began to slow. He tilted her backwards, moving slowly so that his companion could adjust his thrusting angle as he held Henrietta by the shoulders and pushed the tip of his cum-slick cock against her lips, seeking entrance to her mouth. While he claimed that and more, thrusting into her throat, his companion was the third to lose control, cumming deep in the witch's womb with a snarl of exertion before slowly pulling back, though not out. Slowly he began to move inside her pussy again, bringing himself back to full hardness in a matter of moments before pulling out and setting his cock against her asshole, eager to have a chance at the lower hole he hadn't tried yet.

Across and above, the kroot buried in Rosamond shuddered as the battle-sister came hard from the penetration alone, struggling to keep his own orgasm under control as he began to thrust once her spasms had subsided. He was the eldest of the five warriors, scarred and tough from a lifetime of battle and while the others had youth and vigor, he had experience. Even if he had never mated a human before, it was impossible not to recognize the fallen priestess' plea for what it was and adjust accordingly, his thrusts growing faster as he slammed into her harder, pulling no more than halfway out each time yet somehow managing at the same time to put twice the force behind each earth-shaking thrust despite that, their union resounding through the ship with the clap of flesh meeting flesh for every impact and further squelches and sucking sounds as his inhuman manhood pounded her without rest.


Finally, in the inquisitor's quarters the shaman hesitated as it slid Patience' cunt to the tip of it's length again, not teasing this time, but rather making a serious decision as Patience's plaintive and wanton raving rose in desperation. She was begging yes, yet it was more a demand than anything, desperate perhaps, but still a far cry from the plaintive mewling he had hoped for.

A slight push, the tip of his cock parting her walls ever so slightly, then once more, he pulled away, a feral grin upon his face. No... Demand was not enough, desire was not enough. He could see her, still clinging to the vestiges of her authority, still possessed of this misbegotten belief that she had any control here. The shaman set her dripping outer lips against the base of his cock again, rolling her up with even more agonizing slowness than before, bending over slightly to stare into her eyes in an attempt to more fully communicate his desire.

He wanted to see her cry, beg, and scream. He wanted to take her authority, that core of her personality that had made her such a good inquisitor, and before his eyes he intended to see that authority broken before he would let her have the release she craved. Yet despite everything the stimulation of each grind and the distant sounds of sex echoing down the corridors were slowly eroding his will as well... If Patience could truly hold out...

Human eyes met Alien ones, Shaman and Inquisiwhore locked in a battle of wills as they ground against each other, each waiting for the other to give in...

Jonelle groaned as the xeno cock in her hands jerked and spasmed, showering her with with its grey seed from above. It landed on her upturned face, her neck, her pert young breasts, and, of course, her outstretched tongue. The acolyte was well and truly humming with the intense perversion that Astarael had planted in her mind, and there was no turning back now. She could feel the hound fucking her ass, rough animalistic strokes spreading her little pucker savagely, and she moaned like a whore in heat. Reaching forward, she practically yanked the Kroot before her forward and buried his still hard cock, slimy with seed, between her breasts. Pressing the flesh together, she began to give the alien an enthusiastic tit-job.

Henrietta groaned as the Kroot warriors fucking her came, deep and hard, within her aching body. She too, like all the women on the vessel, was lost in a haze of warp-addled lust. She let them bend her backwards, laying her on a convenient table-top, and eagerly opened her hot little mouth for the invading cock. She didn't care that the thing had been buried in her ass until now - she licked its length with an enthusiastic longing as it slid into her throat. She mewled around it, feeling the first Kroot begin to prod at her asshole. She was buried in sensation.

Rosamond's tongue lolled from the corner of her mouth, her gasping moans echoing around the console deck as the more experienced Kroot seemed to understand her pleas. He was fucking her more quickly now but, a veteran of many breeding sessions, seemed to understand her needs and was slamming deeply into her sex. She could hear the slap of flesh on flesh, the subtle wet sounds of sex, and it burned in her ears. 'Ughhh...ughhh...' she moaned out, fingers scrabbling on the console, jamming against buttons in her quest for orgasm. 'Breed me....breed me Xenos....' she moaned out, eyes rolling back into her head.

Astarael's moment came sooner than she expected because, just as the inexperienced warrior fucking her face blew his load, letting go of her head in ecstasy as he flooded her throat with his seed, the hound fucking her tight little pussy also came. It howled but, taking its eye of its competition, was blind-sided by the other hound. The two wrenched away, snapping and snarling, affording the psyker a moment to retake control.

Finally, in her bedroom, the Inquisiwhore groaned as the Shaman teased her. But her experience in the Ordo Xenos, for once, was working in her favour in this smutty exchange. She knew, all to well, that primitive species like the Kroot retained animal-like attitudes to rutting. She knew that she was locked in a battle of wills with the Shaman - a contest of endurance to see which would be the dominant mate. And, despite the burning desire within her, she wanted to win.

She slid back, groaning in need as the cock rubbed against her wet sex, but pulled herself back up to the windowsill that lined one side of her bed. She was now eye to eye with the Shaman, across the rumpled sheet of the bed, and she slowly spread her legs. Making sure she kept his gaze, she began to stroke her pussy, every so often parting her labia to reveal the pink needy sex within, and let her mature body ripple with each laden breath. She knew that, if she could persuade him to come to her, that would establish her dominance over him. Then again, she thought eyeing his impressive cock and almost gasping in need, if he just stood there and worked his organ, releasing his pheromones, she wasn't sure if she could resist for long...

Many miles away, in a wickedly shaped vessel as ancient as the entire planet, the scenes of debauchery played out over great screens. Rosamond's rough fucking on the console had, inadvertently, seen a scrabbling finger open up a channel that allowed the Dark Eldar cruiser coasting the planet for easy slave pickings to peak in. They were too far away to intervene immediately, but slowly the ship turned and charted a course that would see them intercept the Ordo Xenos ship within 48 hours.

While the Kroot were more in control in some ways, they were all still being influenced by the warp in subtle ways to the ends of their own desires and Jonelle's young warrior was no exception. His jaws parted as the assassin's breasts wrapped around his shaft, a strangled sound as wires crossed in his mind, anger at the 'humiliation' of having cum outside intersecting with the newfound pleasure of the experience. Behind her the hound plunged even deeper into her ass, his cock twitching and pulsing with every thrust, a thick knot beginning to swell at it's base, the thrusts becoming shallower and more urgent with each stroke until the beast drove himself over her, slamming that cock into her ass with enough force to stretch her already-stretched asshole even wider for a brief handful of seconds until it swallowed his knot and he began to pump his bestial cum into her body.

While Jonelle's hound was finishing in her asshole, Astarael's asshole was just beginning to be used as the psyker used her momentary reprieve to push the Kroot off balance, his cock coming free of her throat with a pop as she sent him downwards and quickly straddled him. She balanced herself, using gravity to sink her tight rear onto his shaft and leaning back as she did so, spreading her legs such that push her cum-slick cunt and just-filled throat were freely accessible to the squabbling hounds. "Ohh~..." She projected her moan towards them, inviting them back to have a little more fun rather than fighting...


In the other room the Kroot holding Henrietta were perfectly content to treat her like the toy she wanted to be in their hands, lifting and turning her about as they pleased to fuck her however they wanted. They spit her on their cocks, impaling her ass and throat like some kind of perverse womanly version of a herdbeast to be cooked. Where before their motions had been offset now they moved in unison, pulling back and thrusting forwards as one with such force that the little witch might even swear those massive cocks were going to meet in the middle of her body. Of course this was all to say nothing of the fact that both warriors still had one hole each they hadn't tried yet and even then it wasn't likely they would be finished with her by the time they had 'completed the set' either, though with so much time to enjoy each other, they would probably trade her out for another one of the crew at some point...

Across that room, the older Kroot fucking Rosamond was finding that the Battle-Sister was no poor second option by comparison to a proper female. In fact, if anything the corrupted Sororitas was one of the best he'd ever had, gripping him tightly, begging for more. His experience had allowed him to hold out against her slippery clutches for quite some time but in the end, the result of their union was quite inevitable and her begging pushed him over the edge with a rumbling growl. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up as he slammed as deep as he could physically go, pushing into her womb and releasing his seed directly into that fertile sanctum. It was technically an empty gesture, but as Patience had said, Kroot were adaptive, and if the seed sensed a worthy host, it was possible that Rosamond would get her wish... Certainly with all the cum pumping into her womb in wave after wave it would be impossible for her not to become pregnant were it a human she had taken...


It was a close thing in the end, and even as Patience won on one level she lost on another. With both of them on edge the slightest provocation could turn that strung-out tension into a loss of control and while her little show was enough to provoke the Shaman to give in, the distance she had created between them meant that he couldn't fill her with his seed as the act of grasping his cock to drive it into her became a rough stroking instead, paralyzing him with self-pleasure. Pheromones poured from him now as he worked his shaft, awkwardly stumbling towards her as he sought to fill her but he wasn't about to reach her in time and unless she acted, before he could cross the cabin he would lose control, showering her in cum.

He could go many rounds after that of course, but it was that first and most potent load that was important when it came to these rituals interlinked with breeding and while the sensation of it might break the inquisitor it would be something of a hollow victory given what he was about to surrender to achieve it...

'God-Emperor' Patience half swore half moaned as she saw the Shaman stumble towards her, awkwardly jerking his cock. She knew well enough that, although she had tempted him into near-submission, she was risking everything by not copulating with him immediately. An experienced student of Xenos, the Inquisitor knew from her research that mating patterns in tribal creatures like the Kroot depended on a series of ritual exchanges. If the Shaman blew his load all over the floor it would be a waste - worse still he and his followers might end up hostile, sensing their failure to link to the women [in the person of Patience] an insult to their manhood.

It was clumsy and quick but the Inquisitor lunged, pushing the Kroot back so that his knees hit the side of the bed and he fell backwards. She straddled him as she pushed him back, managing to home his fat shaft deep in her moist pussy. Her hands grabbed his, moving his claws to her hips, and she began to bounce on the thick cock. 'Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me,' she chanted over and over, her mature body bouncing athletically on the xenos. She moaned, triumphant, as she felt him cum within her, his clawed hands locking with hers as he flooded her pussy with his hot, sticky, first potent load. They blacked out together, neither entirely aware of whatever the bond between them was now.

......................................................................................................................

It was about 3am when the Inquisiwhore gathered her tired crew in the ship's mess bay. They were all streaked with cum, naked and raw, but all wearing strangely fulfilled smiles on their faces. All, to the various degrees they were attuned to the warp, could sense both the animal dominance of the now exhausted and sleeping Kroot and the subtle arousal of Slaneesh's evil influence. But if any noticed, none said anything.

'Well done crew' Patience said, eyeing each one. 'I feel that we have thoroughly studied our captives, and gathered useful information on their practices. But it seems to me our work is only half done...'

'Yes Inquisiwhore' Jonelle chimed in. The lithe young assassin was sitting on the edge of a mess table and openly toying with her clit in lazy circular motions. Again, no-one seemed to notice or care. Nor did they object to Patience's new title it seemed. 'I feel like the key to the Kroot's group cohesion is in their mating practices. They are clearly used to owning females as a group - we need to experience that more'.

'They seem to have a powerful urge to breed' Rosamond added, Henrietta nodding in agreement, both women clearly recalling the rough fucking they had received on the bridge of the vessel. 'Maybe we should exploit that?'

'Well, go get some sleep' Patience ordered. 'I don't want the Xenos confined. I think it best if they treat the ship as their tribal land tomorrow. The rainstorm means neither we nor they can pilot the ship anywhere, so we are safe for now.' Watching the others go, she stepped closer to Jonelle. The older woman stepped between her slender, toned, young legs and smiled. Their faces were inches apart.

'As for you, my little Accoly-cunt' she said in a sultry voice, 'I have a feeling that you and I will have to see what the leader of the Xenos has in store for us. I think he and I are somehow linked now'. While speaking Patience had snaked a hand down and was joining Jonelle's own digits in teasing the young woman's rosebud. She leaned in, and kissed the gasping little mouth of her pupil. The taint in the air was turning their once-loving teacher-student relationship into something beautifully perverse.

'Come on' Patience whispered, taking her by the hand and leading Jonelle back into her room where the Shaman lay snoring on the bed. With a soft giggle, the Accoly-cunt and the Inquisiwhore slipped into bed on either side of him, hoping to snatch a few hours of sleep. When they woke up, each woman thought across the ship, they would need to see how their actions had changed the power dynamic of the group as a whole.

Gathering in the mess after the Kroot had finally tired themselves out and drained their spunk into and all over the girls, Astarael couldn't have been happier with what she saw. While the faces were the same ones that had assembled there for missions for years, gone was the prim professionalism and grim determination, replaced with a carefree display of cum-spattered skin and well-fucked holes.

She didn't need to look further than the surface to know that while only Henrietta served Slaanesh itself, they were all at this point thoroughly inducted into the worship of pleasure and passion, and while from there it was only a short step to worshipping her patron, it was to be one of the most difficult steps to have them make. Not just acceptance of a new way of thinking but rejection of their old dogmas, their old faith and creed. They all still served the emperor even if they now did so in ways that no priest of his name would ever approve of, and that faith would need to be taken out from under them before they could truly cross over...

But there were better things to worry about, and even if their hearts were not liberated from the worship of their corpse god the pleasures they took in still carried them ever closer to Slaanesh's grasp and there was nothing to spoil what fun they were already having...


In all things Kroot were hardy and enduring, quick to regenerate from even the most grievous of wounds in a matter of hours even without proper attention, to say nothing of if they were given a chance to feed. While on one hand this was especially notable in battle on the other hand as the Inquisiwhore's crew were about to discover it was equally notable in mating as where the xeno warriors had gone to sleep drained of all the cum they could produce they were ready to go another full series of rounds when they awoke some hours later and with the interior of the ship thoroughly bathed in pheromones and the scent of sex by now there was not a single one that did not awaken rock hard and eager.

Wherever the girls had slept, the Kroot set out to find them and were they not in the same place, the alien warriors fully intended to assemble them. Before they had all been caught up in the eager need for release and so had fallen on whatever pleasure they could take but now they had slightly more of their senses, and they intended to properly breed their new females. In Kroot society monogamy was discouraged, for in a world such as theirs even the act of mating needed to be somewhat competitive, females would be set up in a line and the male warriors -starting with the shaman, then the chieftan, then the other warriors in descending order of rank and age- would take each one of them in turn, ensuring that every tribe member's seed would have a chance to fight for it's right to fertilize one of the females eggs. In a typical tribe this process would often expend the kroot utterly as they would end up having to produce as many as thirty or forty loads to seed every single female. This sexual stamina was part of why the T'au had simply repressed the Kroot's urges rather than trying to breed it out of them since the abilities were so ingrained in who their species was it would take decades if not centuries of work to accomplish it.

However, aboard this ship there were only five women to be had, and as was the Shaman's prerogative it seemed he had claimed two of them. While the warriors would have liked to have tried to obtain one of those two for this ritual they agreed that it would make little difference since there would be an excess of seed to spread either way and one more breeder would make little difference on this scale. Besides, the female the Shaman had taken seemed to be some sort of chieftain in her own right and by the scents about, it seemed the one she'd taken was a bodyguard to her of some kind. The notion of a female chieftain was an odd one to begin with, but once they had wrapped their heads aroudn that notion, the notion of a chieftain's bodyguard was already pretty normal and given the chieftain in question was female here, they saw no reason her bodyguard could not be female as well...

Had the women awoken the Kroot would move to have them line up in a row while had they not, the warriors would simply line them up themselves. The difference was largely one of position, for waking females were given an opportunity to present themselves properly as they saw fit while the sleeping ones would simply be positioned with their faces down and their holes on display. Then -ready or not, awake or not- the Kroot would start the ritual, with the older one who had been monopolizing Rosamond earlier at the head of the line to dip into first Henrietta, then Astarael, then finally the aforementioned Battle-Sister's folds and attempt to sow his seed.


Meanwhile in Patience' cabin the shaman awoke, finding himself availed of warm female-smelling bodies to either side of him as consciousness returned. They were too soft to be Kroot females, but the memories of what had come before this moment were not hard to call up and even before he could indulge in reminiscing over that delightful struggle he realized that his cock was creating a tent in the covering.

He tilted his head down slightly, finding on his right the familiar face of the 'Inquisitor' under a tangle of blonde hair while on the left a decidedly less familiar visage greeted him, though he could recall that this female had been amongst the ones his warriors had taken. A low rumble of satisfaction sounded, and his mandibles parted slightly in a feral grin as he considered his options, taloned hands beginning to fondle gently against their backsides, one nicely rounded, the other toned and muscular...

The grin broadened and he slowly moved deeper, teasing at the slick cuntlips of both Assassin and Mistress, intending to bring them both to a pleasurable awakening...

Jonelle stirred first. The dark haired assassin, her lithe body formerly a temple to discipline and training, dedicated to the under-hand service of the God-Emperor, was now a sensual instrument ready to be strummed. She dreamed in fever-pitch, all colours and emotions tinged by the malign yet pleasurable influence of the warp beyond the veil. She was dreaming she lay on a sea of hand, all gently undulating like waves, caressing her bare body. She luxuriated in their touch, writhing and rolling, feeling unknown and unfamiliar fingers stroke her skin in a rainbow of sensual contacts.

Awakening she smiled into the feral grin of the Shaman, awash with hormones and corruption, and instinctively knew her place. Her sweet little mouth opened, already salivating in anticipation, and she drew back the covers to reveal the xeno cock before her. Without a second thought she began to lick the length, in gentle, cat-like, motions, lubricating it and making it hard. As she did she purred her appreciation at the fingers teasing her flesh. The Kroot pheremones, the corruption, and her long-term relationship with Patience had fused in the young acolyte's mind. She was a servant of her mistress and, sensing from the chemical hints that her mistress was somehow linked to this dominant male, she set about preparing him to take Patience. She was a handmaiden to the breeding to come.

The other women had a slightly ruder awakening. Rosamond was dreaming too - deep Slaaneshi infused dreams. She was back at the Academy, with her battle sisters, in their first open engagement as trainees. They had fought a small insurgency of Orcs on a waterworld, splaying green blood over the tropical beaches and crystal-clear water. Except now her muddled mind remembered it differently. Her sisters were lined up, on hands and knees, each being taken from behind by a muscular Orc warrior. Spray and sweat dripped from the toned xeno bodies as they pounded their submissive partners in almost primal unison in the surf. Rosamond was repeating a credo, over and over, sanctifying the scene. But, as her vision panned out, it was revealed she was also bouncing on the cock of a huge Orc Boss. Then his visage shifted to be the Emperor. She smiled. Then he shifted again, and unfamiliar but oddly encouraging visage that was not alien but utterly inhuman. She didn't know it, then, but she was looking into the face of Slaanesh as she smiled and took his cock deeper, singing out praise in his name...

She awoke when the toned warrior thrust deep into her pussy, finding herself face down and ass up on the mess table. She moaned, a smile still plastered on her face, and did nothing at all to resist. 'My arms are ready for war' she sang. At least, that was what she sang in her mind. Or meant to sing. In reality the Imperial benediction was twisted by her lust and corruption. Rosamond sang out, amid the Kroot and her fellow sluts in that room, 'My womb is ready for seed'. And, deep down, she knew the change she had made. The other two women were soon awake and groaning too, none of the three struggling at all against their position.

Back in the main cabin Patience awoke to a shivering little orgasm as the Shaman's skilled hands toyed with her moist sex. Their bodies were more attuned to each other after their meeting of minds last night, and just as the Kroot knew how to coax a climax from the mature woman with just the flick of his fingers, so too did she know how to prepare her partner. She reached down, not even acknowledging the bobbing head of her acolyte now deepthroating the Kroot where he lay. Why should she? All three were in a full tribal meld now, and Jonelle's subservience was natural. The young submitting to the older and more experienced. Even though unfamiliar with Kroot biology Patience seemed to know, from their pairing, where to reach to stimulate her partner. Her hand teased the base of his cock and stroke his scrotum. In a human this would merely have been pleasurable, but in a Kroot this released the most potent ancestral stock of seed usually sealed off for all but the most important, gene-altering, breeding sessions. Shamans only usually came with this elder seed, which they could control, when they were actively trying to breed a new improved or modified line of Kroot. Patience, even though she only knew it on a primal level, was signalling to the Shaman that she was ready to breed as a superior female.

She pulled Jonelle's head off the Shaman, thick strands of pre-cum and saliva left clinging to his impressive member, swollen to perfection by the ministrations of her servant. 'Go to be bred' she commanded, and Jonelle did not argue, climbing out of bed to find the others and take her position in line. Patience, her mature body aching for release, straddled the Kroot. Their eyes met, the communication both wordless and profound, and she sank onto his shaft, taking the slick meat into her sex in one deep smooth slide.

'Breed me' she said, half request half command, and the bond between the two ensured that she was understood despite the language barrier. This was biological.

They shared no words, but words were no longer necessary for Shaman, Inquisitor, and Assassin. Each knew their place in this dance, and each performed admirably, albeit with a few modifications to Kroot tradition. Oral sex was both difficult for Kroot mouth to perform and of little use when it came to breeding and so it was that Jonelle's foreplay was something of a step outside of what was right. However, the Shaman saw no reason to complain as in the melded state the subservient female did not try to overstep her bounds and take his seed before her superior.

He did not even move as she rose and left, making space for Patience to straddle him. Even though the inquisitor was on top, there was no question as to who held the control in his mind. The shaman reached up as the inquisitor sank down, running sharp claws over hardened nipples, caressing and massaging mature breasts, but making no move of his hips whatsoever. She had awakened the power, the most potent and worthwhile seed, now she had to prove herself worthy of receiving it and they both knew it.

This was a test, a trial by fire. His cock bulged in her, swelling even thicker against her walls and grinding against her insides at the slightest shift and movement. All she needed to do was keep moving, yet there was no way she should be able to keep herself from cumming, and so she would need to prove her ability, to move even through the strain and mind-numbing pleasure of orgasm after orgasm to secure the breeding she desired...


In the lounge there was less ceremony to it, even if the rituals were at their heart serving the same purpose. Thick Kroot cocks filled fertile cunts in a steady beat of flesh against flesh and a symphony of perversion as the sounds of pleasure and sex filled the air. Rosamond was the prize at first, toned and powerful, a female who would surely breed strong warriors for the nascent tribe, yet as Jonelle joined the line there was a ripple of uncertainty. Unlike their Shaman, the warriors knew next to nothing of psykers or warp power and while Astarael and Rosamond's slaanesh-touched pussies were sweet and tight around them, they favored the strength of the the warriors.

Camps divided them, two warriors preferring Jonelle, while two remained steadfastly on Rosamond's side. Solid strength of muscle versus lithe speed, a contest that was to be settled in the only way that made sense on the lust-mad ship that left the psykers momentarily forgotten as the disagreeing pairs of kroot took their respective championess and lifted her, spearing Jonelle and Rosamond's pussies and assholes on two thick cocks apiece and beginning to thrust angrily. "See how well she takes our shafts!" The pair around the sororita cry. "See how beautifully her taut belly bulges with our seed!" Those around Jonelle retort, and so it goes on...

While Astarael is certainly displeased at this new development, she need not be so for long, as the hounds have been prowling at the edges of the line for some time now and they see their chance as the Psykers are left open. They leap, fully intent on knotting Astarael and Henrietta's pussies and giving them a rougher and more primal breeding with their bestial strength.


And out in the storm, drawn to the echoes of slaanesh as much as the prospect of prize slaves for capture, the Dark Eldar draw closer and prepare their assault. They will not arrive for another hour as the winds around the sheltering peak are particularly treacherous outside of the sole bubble of safety Patience has sequestered herself in, but soon, the time will be at hand, and as they can already see, these females are prizes indeed...

Henrietta doesn't even care about how overlooked she was by the warriors as their various factions formed around the two fighters, one dark and lithe the other more rounded in physique. The swirl of pheremones, the latent influence of the Prince of Pleasure, and the generally submissive nature that had swept over the crew that morning saw her simply moan in pleasure as one of the hounds pounced on her trim little ass. Its rough cock sunk deep into her sex and she groaned, bending further over in submission as it sought to knot in her and release its seed.

The other pounded Astarael in a similar frantic rhythm, the urge to breed paramount in its small primitive mind. It was operating on instinct now, hips jabbing and thrusting, as it pounded the hot little human sex before it.

Neither Jonelle nor Rosamond were able to understand what the Kroot warriors were croaking and snapping about but the ecstasy coursing their bodies meant that they didn't care. Neither resisted being hoisted into the air and impaled onto thick cocks in both holes. Jonelle's eyes rolled back into her head, her mouth hanging open and her tongue lolling at the sensation as she surrendered herself utterly to pleasure. Rosamond, meanwhile, was again lost in a lust-induced fantasy of being gang-banged alongside other Sisters. The women in the room morphed, in her vision, into fellow acolytes. She reached out, catching Jonelle's hand as they were bounded up and down together, and panted 'Have faith in our God of Pleasure sister...ahhhhhhh'. If the psyker caught that she would be aware just how little nudging the women needed to open worship of Slaanesh.

In the main cabin, Patience let out a low animal moan as the Kroot Shaman's sharp clawed hands explored her body. She felt them, iron razor sharp, tease her nipples and his rough fingers grip and tease her breasts. He seemed to be growing inside her and she tangled her arms in her hair, stretching them above her head in pleasure, as she concentrated on pleasing him. Their rutting, although vying for position over each other, was naturally synced. The Kroot mating cycle had swept upon them both. Her pussy walls, tight and toned, nevertheless slowly accomodated his extra length and girth and added lubrication. Soon she began, slowly, to gyrate her hips, riding him in a grinding motion. Reaching back with one hand she gently took his ballsack in hand and massaged the tender flesh. Her glazed eyes looked down at the Kroot as she whimpered and moaned through an orgasm. 'Breed me. Fill me with your seed' she panted.

The Shaman tensed with the struggle, deliberately holding back for as long as he could against the Inquisitor's desires to test her to the fullest but he could only last so long in the face of such determined whoredom and as she rode him his cock began to twitch and pulse inside her, flexing against her inner walls. It was testament to how far she'd fallen that she won what no other human woman could ever hope to win. Kroot bred for strength and adaptability, traits that would advance their place as apex predators, yet through lust and slutty debasement alone, she broke the shaman in her own way, and took that most sacred seed into herself.

It exploded into her, a massive load, just enough to fit inside a kroot female, yet too much for the inquisitor to hold inside her. She could try to be sure, her belly straining with the swirling spurts of that pure seed, but soone or later her walls would give, and it would begin to spill out of her. Fertile as she was there was no doubt -genetic incompatibility notwithstanding- that even as some leaked from her pussy she would be impregnated by the remainder, yet still, it shamed the shaman to see even a little of his most precious seed wasted so...

Then he shifted inside her and the feeling of her inner walls against his shaft washed the sentiment away. He placed one hand on her stomach, looking into her eyes, sharing the moment of this lewd and most perverse conception.


For Jonelle and the two psykers, the moment Patience was filled with that seed they felt it, the former from the sympathetic connection the constant exposure had granted her, the latter two from the sheer resonance of Shaman and Inquisiwhore's shared ecstasy in that moment. All three of them came hard, harder than even they -who'd experienced so much pleasure over the past little while- could withstand as their minds were gripped and plucked up by this wave of psychic force. Even Astarael found herself going limp, her own body utterly uncontrolled as she shook like a trapped leaf in a hurricane, caught in the throes of an orgasm that went beyond the reality of pleasure crashing through ehr body from the Kroot Hound's rutting and into the warp around her, bleeding perversion into that space between spaces and into the minds of the others.

Such was the strength of the resonance that even the unattuned Kroot picked up on it, lifting their voices and howling as one, cocks swelling to even greater size inside the twice-impaled warrior women as they picked up the pace, pistoning into their overstuffed holes with a frenzied zeal that would not even have been possible were it not for the loads upon loads of cum that already churned slickly inside the two, a rising crescendo of the filthiest squelching and slapping imaginable as those massive cocks slickly pounded into those tight and willing holes. Even as they unleashed yet another load of their sperm inside the women none of them stopped, driven ever onwards by Slaanesh, whose face shone clearly in all their minds as a tendril of his presence investigated the wave. This purest bliss... Worship it... Become it... Serve me forevermore...

They were in no position to bargain, and it was doubtful any of them would want to refuse anyways. It was not a totally binding contract, but then again it didn't need to be. He already had them in his grasp, they just needed to acknowledge it.


Unheard over the raucous sounds of sex and the warp presence pushing into everyone's minds, a soft clunk met the outer hull as the Dark Eldar prepared to board. Having only seen the feeds from the ship since the orgy had already started as they stalked closer, they doubted any of the women would be much of a threat to them, and prepared primarily to take out the Kroot, intending to slaughter the useless males and take the lovely whores they were rutting as pleasure slaves. With a little training they would all serve as excellent entertainment to even the most depraved creatures and would fetch a wonderfully high price...

But even if they could successfully take them all, none of those in the two ships were aware of the force that hung above them, Tyranid bio ships slowly drifting towards the planet, pulsing with warp-borne energies. The swarms were not normally susceptible to chaos but these ones were an outlier, a deviant mutation that had seen them cut off from the rest of the swarm as Slaanesh had taken them into his service. Guided to this planet for the sole purpose of preparing the corrupted inquisition team for their final descents.


Somewhere in the warp, the manifestation of pleasure itself smiled lazily and steepled two of it's many hands in a mockery of it's elder brother's pose. "Just as planned..."

And somewhere else in the warp, the manifestation of plots and trickery wondered why it felt the oddly mortal urge to sneeze...

The Inquisiwhore moaned, feeling the Shaman begin to release his potent seed within her. The noise was low and animalistic, a pure release of lust and desire, their bodies melding together as he came deep inside her stretched sex. Years of academy training, of dedication to the God Emperor, and of rooting out his foes across the galaxies, faded into insignificance before the animal urge to rut and to breed. This was her purpose, she felt in that moment, just as the Kroot below her knew it to be true.

Her hand covered his on her stomach, both of them knowing the significance of the action. Their eyes met, both glazed over in pleasure, as they came down from their joint high. Deep inside her womb, his seed found purchase, rooting into place and fertilising her mature body.

Outside the depravity was too much for the women. Rosamond had passed out, hanging limply between the two kroot warriors who fucked her again and again, her insides slick with their seed as they pumped more and more into her sex, caught up in the urge to breed that emanated outwards from the Inquisitor's cabin.

Henrietta, meanwhile, could hold back no longer. Watching the sex, even as the kroot hound knotted inside her and began to pump his own thicker cum into her from behind, the flushed witch moaned out her submission.

'Slaneesh...Lord of Pleasure...take me. Take me as your servant' she moaned, voice loud enough to carry above the din of the Kroot and the slapping and squelching of mating.

Jonelle's eyes, hazed over, nonetheless snapped over to the red-face of the witch. Her lithe body was shaking as the two warriors pounding her holes, their cocks swollen as they submitted to the Shaman's mating patterns, but she kept the witch's gaze.

The accolyte's lips parted, perfect red and wet with arousal. Her whole body burned. The Demon God was in her mind, now, mental shielding blasted aside in wave after wave of pleasure. And she no longer wanted to fight.

'I pledge to you Slaanesh. I pledge my body to your cause. Just give me pleasure beyond the ken of mortals' she said through gritted teeth, each word punctuated by the rough thrust of one or other of the Kroot.

Although they might not have known it as the crept on board the ship, the Dark Eldar slavers were approaching a group already half-pledged to Chaos.

A more attuned captain might have realized what was passing beneath her feet as she prepared to breach the Inquisition ship but Melyss -for all that she held high rank within her fleet- was a corsair more than anything else. She could only feel a fraction of the slaaneshi presence that roiled in the warp here and interpreted it wrongfully as the god's blessing upon their actions. After all, the Dark Eldar did worship that power, and it was not totally unknown for an eye to be turned upon them every once in a while...

One last check, collars and chains prepared to secure the inquisitorial sluts, shuriken pistols and vibroblades ready to subdue their Xeno lovers. If they could capture one of the Kroot they would but the warriors had a reputation for being rather dull in many ways. These ones were a curiosity of course, particularly to the captain and half of her crew who were curious about those hefty shafts they'd all seen unleashed against the imperial whores on the surveillance feeds, but the first priority was to get them out of the way, and that would most likely be accomplished by killing them.


Within the ship, the Warriors who'd chosen Rosamond slowed slightly as the battle-sister passed out from the pleasure, groaning with shame as much as pleasure as their seed pumped into her as they realized that she had given in first. In turn that made her less worthy than before, and with so much seed spent inside the battle sister already, they looked about to the psykers and considered which of those two they would prefer as they pulled Rosamond off their cocks and set her to one side, letting her overstuffed holes finally recover a little as cum poured from them onto the floor. Meanwhile the other two whooped and roared in victory, celebrating their good taste in breeding females by fucking Jonelle even harder between them.

For a moment the cabin distorted, the warp impinging upon local space as Slaanesh heard the oaths of fealty spoken by Acolyte and Psyker.

For an instant, time stood still.

Fingers reached across the cosmos, ethereal in the warp, a touch each to Jonelle and Henrietta's clits, a caressing palm acorss one of Astarael's breasts, and a single pressure to Rosamond's forehead, ensuring that even in unconsciousness there was no escape from debauchery. The scenarios her lust-addled mind had superimposed over the orgy and others besides would repeat in her dreams, growing more and more fantastical as they went on. A whole company of her sisters lined up and bent over before rank after rank of hulking orks, screaming helpless pleasure as they were pounded in the shallow waters of the tropical beaches while she sat atop the warboss' cock, lording herself over them as she bounced on the immense shaft. Her former squad surrounded by dozens in cultist robes, each one on their knees with a cock in her mouth and two more in her hands, moaning as thick white seed spattered against their faces and chests. A horde of chanting kroot fucking an immense and varied assembly of women while she lay in the midst of an arena and a grand krootox pushed the head of its two-foot shaft into her... It went on and on, every scene more depraved than the last, drawn both from what she knew and what her perverted mind could only dream of to produce a never-ending feed of erotic dreams that even in unconsciousness she might never be without pleasure.



To the three still-conscious women those places touched by Slaanesh burned like fire, and then, pleasure exploded through them, a violent shockwave of orgasmic ecstasy that sent even Astarael -who had felt this touch before- into uncontrollable spasms of release. None of them would likely be in any state to even notice as -at the same time- a bulkhead exploded inwards, breaching charges opening a hole in the side of the ship to admit the would-be slavers. They rushed for the rooms where the warriors were first, shuriken pistols raised and slave collars at the ready, charging in as a group to take their prisoners hoping to take advantage of the fact that most of them were occupied with sex to collar as many as they could and restrain them for transport. The only ones they would not even bother trying to capture were the Kroot hounds, as they were worth even less than their savage bipedal counterparts.

However, while the girls with the warriors might have missed the approach, the quiet in Patience' cabin as she and the shaman shared the moment of tenderness gave the perfect moment to hear the breaching charge go off. The Dark Eldar knew the layout of the ship from the careless broadcasting that had let them find it in the first place and so they had a rough idea of where to watch for Patience exiting her cabin but they didn't know that the inquisiwhore would even notice their presence as they had not yet realized that she was not quite as far gone as the rest.

Above, the space began to glow around the bows of the Tyranid ships as they entered the atmosphere, slowly and inexorably descending towards an intercept against the would-be slavers...

The women, those wrapped up in the embrace of Slaanesh and those just rolling in the aftershocks of mating, had no time to react. Patience was exiting the cabin, bringing her new mate with her to survey their gathered ''tribe'', when the Dark Eldar strike team struck. She was lucky, in a way, that the drugged barb from one of the shadowed warriors hit her in the neck and knocked her out cold within seconds. It meant that she was spared the psychic shock that would have come from losing what her hormonal state told her was her new life partner. The Dark Eldar had known that taking the Shaman alive would be unlikely, and before he could warn his warriors one of the female eldar sliced open his chest with a wicked blade, before eviscerating him in the hallway in one clinical yet cruel slash.

The others were easy to subdue. So rocked by pleasure were the other women, that they could hardly notice the Dark Eldar storming the room. Jonelle was simply dumped, unceremoniously as the two warriors fucking her were dragged off of her and collared. The Kroot warriors, stunned by the presence of Slaanesh's will in the room and the jarring mental loss of their Shaman, that the felt without having to see directly, were easily collared and subdued without too much hassle. The hounds fucking Henrietta and Astareal were simply dispatched, shuriken bolts to their heads as they turned to notice the intruders, and the women kept on their knees as they were bound by the slavers.

Only Rosamond, coming around from her climax, even really noticed the Dark Eldar intrude into the spaceship. And she was lost in her own pleasure world provided by Slaanesh. In her mind these were holy pilgrims, come to sample the pleasures of flesh provided by her Sisters of Battle brethren. For wasn't that one of their purposes as an Order? She felt sure it was. So, as two warriors approached her warily, they were surprised to see the toned young woman eagerly spread her legs and arch her back, displaying her bare, cum-spattered, body to them and not resisting their subjugation at all.

All of the captives, in short order, were transferred to the Dark Eldar ship. Their own was stripped of valuables and, as was the custom of the raiders, then laced with booby traps for any potential recovery crew to stumble upon.

However the warp storm around them, that had becalmed the Inquisition ship, rendered their own vessel sluggish and unresponsive. And whilst this meant that the women were likely to awake to a crew restless and with time on their hands, it also meant that the slowly descending Hive Fleet splinter above them would soon intercept the very space in which the Dark Eldar Raider Corvette hovered.

While it would have certainly been a delightful perversion of the emperor's servants, Slaanesh wasn't interested in leaving them to whore their lives away with the Kroot, not after they'd come this far. Severing those growing bonds was necessary to see the women become the true servants it sought and to do that, the Dark Eldar were simply to serve as another piece on the longer game that was playing out. It was a shame that they would not last much longer with the tainted hive fleet descending upon them since they had been wonderfully devoted to Pleasure's service, but it was an acceptable sacrifice since there was no other way to get the more important pieces where they needed to go. Besides, the pleasures they would experience in time would serve as a whole new form of devotion from them in the end...

One by one the Dark Eldar dragged their prisoners towards the breach, the only hiccup in the process coming as they moved to secure the sister of battle. The two approaching her had tensed as she stirred, only to halt in confusion as she simply spread her legs for them. For a moment, the male of the pair almost succumbed to the blatant temptation, only to be held back for the moment by the glare from Melyss. Fucking could come later, for the moment they needed to see that the women were secure.

It was probably one of the easiest raids they'd ever undertaken, and one of the most potentially profitable. The Kroot had retreated in on themselves as they'd been led past the corpse of their shaman, cowed by his death and hopefully easily broken to service in time. Had they a larger ship they would have kept them all in separated cells to ensure no strong leader could rise and rekindle their tribal fervor but they made do, and they made sure to keep them separate at the very least from the inquisitorial women. After all, mingling pain and pleasure to break slaves was the specialty of their kind and letting either side experience pleasures outside of those allowed to them by their captors would only lengthen and complicate the process of doing so.


But Slaanesh was in the air, and the psychic shadow of the hive fleet overhead was beginning to taint the space around them even further with desire. As the lithe little ship slowly wove it's way through the storm, gaining what distance it could on the now-trapped and abandoned imperial corvette, the instinct to dominate and break slowly eroded under the mental pressure. The Dark Eldar were inherently sexual beings and that meant that their urges were quickly being amplified by the ambient lust.

The inquisitorial women had lasted hours before they finally broke under the growing psychic and chemical influences that had been pervading their ship.

Captain Melyss' crew were broken in thirty four minutes, and the captain herself wasn't far behind them.


At first it had been a lone raider named Ylessia who'd snuck down, urges driving her with hopes of sampling the generous Kroot cocks before anyone else. More petite even than Jonelle, the thought of one of them splitting her apart the way she'd seen them fucking the imperial women was a delirious fantasy that would not leave her head.

Fortunately for her, the Kroot hadn't been kept in a single cell but split across a few of them.

Unfortunately, due to the space constraints, there were at least two in every cell.

The illusion of control was a fleeting thing in the face of such masculinity, but by the time one of them managed to fit his cock into her impossibly tight womanhood -his shaft outlined by her skin as it bulged obscenely thick and filling her far beyond what any creature not eldari and blessed by slaanesh could take, she no longer cared.

By the time the other one forced himself all the way into her ass, she was screaming her way through an orgasm she could no longer put a number to, having lost count mere minutes after beginning.

Before she'd even begun to scream though, others had been making their way down, men and women alike. The latter -including the captain- found themselves gravitating towards the Kroot cages, and while some retained their illusions of control longer than others, in the end they were all shown to be helpless before the hulking cocks of their captives as banshee wails of pleasure filled the lower halls.

Meanwhile, the males made their way towards the imperial women. The one who'd first seen Rosamond hadn't been able to get the battle sister out of his head ever since that moment and where before he'd been stopped now he immediately strode towards her, cock rock hard before he'd even finished opening the door and bobbing with every step. Behind him, a dozen others strode in, hesitated a moment as they looked between the girls and 'acquired their targets' so to speak, then descended as one, lust in their eyes.

They were not as big as Kroot warriors but with Slaanesh' eyes upon them the girl's cunts had already tightened back up, and where the Kroot knew only brute strength and physical power in mating, the Dark Eldar knew technique, and besides, the Kroot had barely managed to outnumber them two-to-one at the best of times while the pirates had them at a three to one disadvantage before they'd even started...

As the long range sensors bleeped and warned of the approaching ships from above, not a soul on the bridge heard it, for the bridge was empty, and the autopilot was never meant to make choices...