Ordo Xenos [Reydan and Kaybee]

The pheremones of the Kroot, still swirling around despite the change of vessel, were too heady to allow for anything other than an animalistic urge.

Rosamond was the first to encounter the Dark Eldar males. The warrior who had seen her on the scanners, tall and scarred, stepped before her and without thinking the Sister of Battle spread her legs. She was seated on a bunk roughly suspended from the wall, and the naked blonde simply smiled as the xenos stepped between her legs and sunk his cock into her sex. 'Yes' she crooned, reaching up to stroke his cheek, her eyes blazing with a lust so fervent it was tinged with religious ecstasy. 'Show me your pleasure'.

Henrietta was not far behind. The psyker, judged more dangerous by the slavers, had been suspended from the ceiling by a rope tied around her wrists, hauling her arms above her head. Now it held her pale body exposed as three warriors surrounded her. She moaned, softly, as one came from behind and began to tease her breasts. 'More...more' she gasped, juices already trickling down her thighs as she shifted in exposed need before their lusty gazes.

Jonelle, meanwhile, was already bouncing on the lap of one warrior. Athletic and toned, her young body was not the most carnal for the warriors, who seemed to prefer curves, but the younger Dark Eldar claiming her tight cunt seemed to have know complaints. Wordlessly, her only noises gasps of delight, she rode him eagerly as an eager circle of other male eldar surrounded the pair and awaited their turn with the accolyte.

There was something else in the room, though. Something underlying the noise and the activity, the fucking and the moaning. Since the death of the Shaman, the Kroot had been leaderless and listful, lost in the wider void without his guiding presence. But even as they began to set about the Dark Eldar females their ears began to prick up. Nostrils flared and forked tongues tasted the recycled air of the spaceship as their voices began to raise a joint howl of animal awareness.

For Patience was coming.

Something in the Inquisitor had fundamentally changed in mating with the Shaman. It was as if her natural authority had mingled with a maternalistic authority. Like she was the chief lioness of the pride or something. Calmly, as the cell door opened and the male warriors entered, she stood. She began to walk, past her submissive followers and the males fucking them, and out of the cell. When one warrior, maybe with more presence of mind than his kin, tried to stop her she simply took his cock in her hand and led him in her wake.

She stalked, silent and sure, through the cargo hold to where the kroot were ravaging the females of the crew. Pausing in the doorway she looked around, smiling. She could see bulging stomachs crammed with xeno cock. Members wet with dark eldar saliva. Seed dribbling from well-fucked holes. And, for some perverse reason, the only sensation she felt was pride. She walked among her Kroot, feeling as if she was now their leader, and stroked a face her or patted a shoulder there, as if encouraging their rutting.

Soon she found what she was looking for. Captain Melyss was on her knees, being face fucked by one of the younger Kroot. He let out a strangled yelp as Patience softly tugged him off of her, but submitted all the same. Taking Melyss gently by the long raven hair, Patience led her over to a clear area of floor. Lying back, she spread her legs and brought the dark eldar's face down into her sex. It just seemed...natural...to take control. Her eyes locked with the young Kroot, wordless communication passing between them, and he sunk to his knees behind Melyss and slid his slick cock into her tight little ass. Soon he was fucking her in a deep rolling rhythm.

She opened her mouth, eager for the cock of the male dark eldar who had followed her into the room, still watching the carnality around her with satisfaction.

In the warp they gathered, watching as the once-faithful dogs of the corpse god finally came into their own. The Dark Eldar were -for the most part- content to take the women on one at a time at first but as the orgy continued with no end in sight and none of the women showed any sign of succumbing to them they began to try mixing it up. They switched from Rosamond's cum-filled pussy to her asshole, not out of any lack of tightness but out of instinctive desire to see her break and frustration at their failure to do so. Then when that didn't work the muscular warrior woman was made to endure round after round of throatfucking, only to prove insatiable, never wanting anything besides another cock to claim her after every round.

They stopped waiting for turns after that... Jonelle and Rosamond both found themselves being fucked from every angle, in every position the dark eldar could think of. The pirates meant to ensure that there was no reprieve and no escape as they surrounded the two of them and sought to use their every part, thrusting into every hole, yet even in the brief moments they gave the girls to breathe to keep them conscious all that came from them was a request for more, and even then Henrietta -who they hadn't released from the ceiling but were eagerly trying to stuff two cocks at once into her lower holes- was a constant testament to the fact that no matter what they tried, these women simply would not break.

Eventually, one by one, the Dark Eldar began to falter before their insatiable natures...

Slowly but surely, the girls were out-fucking an entire ship's worth of Dark Eldar males...


Yet the true jewel of it was not in the women's room but rather with the Kroot and their new human whore-shaman. Before the Dark Eldar had even begun to fully comprehend the futility of trying to break these women Patience had cowed them without a word, dragging a single bewildered male with her as she left the room. Below the Kroot howled as they felt her come into her own, and as Slaanesh watched her take control it reached out to her directly at last.

Is it not beautiful? To rule them like this? Patience could see out of the corner of her eyes the Dark Eldar women breaking, upon the Kroot cocks, upon her Kroot's cocks, yet also she could see beyond that. Her new tribe and her retinue... Alone the Kroot and Inquisitorial women could break a planet, an entire world reduced to this kind of lust. Would it not be glorious?

It showed her a legion of space marines, each and every one of them willing and eager not only to fight and die for her but also to fill her with their seed if she so desired. Every race of the galaxy, united in mutual desire, in adoration-no-worship of their whores or of their Kroot Masters... Alone, they could break a world, but with their Inquisiwhore, with their shaman, worlds would be nothing...

And for a moment, an ever-shifting, always alluring face hung before her.

You could break the Galaxy itself Inquisiwhore Vadere... The chorus of moaning and thrusting as her Kroot ravaged the dark eldar women, as Melyss desperately dug into Patience' womanhood, unable to do anything but shudder in pleasure as the Kroot claimed her tight rear, it all seemed to reverberate, echoed a thousandfold. I offer you all this and more...

She could hear his voice. Hear it in her mind. Patience, sitting on the bench with her legs spread for the Dark Eldar Captain's eager little tongue, leaned her head back. Around her the Kroot, her tribe, were plowing into the slowly submitting female crew members. The slap of flesh on flesh, the guttural roars of the Kroot and the musical cadence of Dark Eldar moans, mixed together to rebound and echo around the chamber. It was like a perverted tune, a rising and sinking melody to which the copulating couples around her seemed to be almost dancing.

Patience slid her mouth off the fine young cock of the Dark Eldar warrior she had brought with her. Looking up into his eyes with a clear commanding presence she said 'get under this one and fuck her pussy'. Whether the warrior knew the human tongue or not, he seemed to somehow sense her instruction, doing as she bid and beginning to violate his Captain's cunt as she moaned her arousal into Patience's sex.

But Patience was lost to the void. They talked, in Church and School as children, in the Seminary for the Holy, in the training bastion for the Inquisitors, about the voice of the Emperor. About heeding it, listening to it, obeying it. But she had never truly heard him. Not in the way she was hearing Slaanesh now. She closed her eyes. The visions were so perfect. So wonderfully true to her own desires. It was as if he had opened her mind and played out her darkest desires, even if she didn't know them herself. Why stop with a tribe? A city, a planet, a galaxy....the voice was right. It was all possible.

There was no subterfuge now. Now hidden games or need for subtly. All the partners in this lewd, terrible, magical dance knew each other. And the stakes.

'I pledge myself to you, Slaanesh' she called, clarion clear voice reaching up to the ceiling of the room but the intention carrying well beyond. 'Prince of Pleasure, Lord of Dark Desires, take me as your Inquisiwhore. Take me, Patience Vadere, into your bosom. I pledge my service to you. Help me and I will make whole worlds scream your name in pleasure. I will make holy men and women renounce the false Emperor and run naked and eager to you. I will dance naked in the void for you. Just do not stop this pleasure. Ever. Give us the means to feel this way forever and we will burn the galaxy in your name.'

It was as if the psychic control she exerted over the Kroot extended beyond them to her crew. The Kroot howled, as one, each warrior spasming and climaxing whilst the women who had been tiring the male Eldar crew moaned and gasped as they writhed.

Patience looked up, eyes wide and near-completely white, at the ceiling. Waiting to be touched.

The walls shifted, the floor seemed to twist under them as the warp overtook the ship. The face of slaanesh smiled before her, not quite there, yet also not wholly intangible as claws traced over her body, the barest touches of a true god in the warp drawing lines of fire on her skin. For a moment Slaanesh was there, encircling her, entering her, a single mind-splitting moment of ecstasy as two of their many cocks speared into her lower holes, and a counterpoint of agony just above her hips as the lines of fire converged, leaving behind the mark of Patience' new patron, a crescent moon as though to hold her womb and the arrow pointing mockingly down towards her cunt.

Never again would she be without pleasure, a constant low hum of carnality sizzling through her every nerve, and never again would sheneed to fear being marred beyond desirability. Slaanesh would not suffer a champion without beauty to her, and so any weapon that could damage her could be deflected by their will and any injury that did manage to pierce that will would eventually heal as though it had never been. Yet like all blessings of such beings, it was also a curse in it's own right as it's presence would drive Patience to ever greater depravities and indulgences to keep herself from growing numb to that touch...

All across the ship, the retinue would be experiencing the psychic echoes of what Patience had experienced. They were already pledged to Slaanesh or falling fast enough that their pledges were guaranteed so it did not matter how boldly their hand was shown now. Through the Kroot Patience had taken on a measure of connection to the warp and her pleasure as Slaanesh caressed her blazed out to her tribe, Kroot and Retinue alike made to feel the shadow of it's presence in the warp.

The Dark Eldar on the other hand, broke utterly before the assault. Even the already-spent males couldn't help cumming, spraying their seed over the slick and heaving bodies of the retinue until they could not give up a drop more and began to collapse, the lucky ones fainting from dehydration, the unlucky ones simply falling dead with rapturous smiles on their faces as the ecstasy burned through their nervous systems in a blaze of warp-induced sensation. Those who could not stand such sensation were unworthy of favour anyways, and those that could were likely little better as there was not a one that remained standing. A few of the females suffered a similar fate, their bodies and minds unable to handle this, yet the vast majority of them simply broke, reduced to drooling wrecks by the overwhelming pleasure as the Kroot collectively came as well, swelling those taut stomachs with their heavy loads.

Melyss was one of the few who suffered neither, and it was only by the grace of the cock in her rear and Patience' fingers tangled in her hair that she managed to stay on all fours rather than collapsing, and even though she was neither broken nor killed, she better than anyone else knew what had happened. A new champion of their god had been born before her eyes, and so she did as any good follower would, and continued to worship the Inquisiwhore's pussy as best she could while her crew crumbled around her.

One last step left, and then, Patience would be unleashed upon the galaxy.

If there was a moment where Inquisitor Vadere, Hero of the Nebulus Uprising, Vanquisher of the Calgan Five Coven, veteran of twenty years of campaign and struggle and devoted service, hesitated, it was short lived. The pleasure that washed through her, causing her to rock and writhe, driving her sodden sex into the Dark Eldar's submissive little mouth, was all embracing. Even her fingertips burned with delight. She watched, through hooded eyes, as Slaanesh's symbol burned itself onto her skin, ache and ecstasy jumbled together. There was clarity. An awareness of her Patron's approval of her own beauty and, in that moment, all of the pride Patience had formerly invested into her career and her dedication flicked over into an obsessive, self-congratulated, appreciation of her own beauty. She was mature and ripe. Whole worlds of primitive peoples would have carved her in stone, her body a temple to fertility and passion. But it was only her new patron who had marked her out.

'My Lord' she moaned, eyes pricked with tears, fully embracing the carnality offered.

Around her the Dark Eldar simply crumbled. Only Melyss, who's sweet tongue and delicious fall from grace from Captain to slut-whore, was left in command of her mind.

'Come to me' Patience crooned, standing and cupping Melyss' chin as she gently drew the Dark Eldar to her feet. The former captain's pale body was marked by Slaanesh too, his profane symbol dark on her left breast and, as the female members of Patience's crew extracted themselves from the pile of spent Dark Eldar males around them, they too noticed that their bodies were marked by the Chaos God. Each one was smaller and less central than Patience's, but in each case the former Imperials were now tattooed with the same dark mark.

They did not bother to dress or cover themselves, nor did they clean themselves of the stain of their orgy. Jonelle's shapely ass dribbled seed. Rosamond's breasts were raw from slapping and gropping. Henrietta's face was a near mask of spent cum. But they wore these openly and proudly now. Badges of their new service.

'Inquisiwhore' they said as one, forming a semi-circle around Patience. The Kroot, silent and obedient, formed a further half circle behind them. Their cocks now permanently erect and their testicles shifting and growing, their genetics adapting to the corruption now radiating off the former Inquisitor.

'We will remake this world for the Lord of Pleasure' Patience said with a smile, but then cast her eyes skywards. 'But I sense we have one more trial ahead of us brothers and sisters' she breathed, watching as the dark metal roof of the ship slid back to reveal the clear glass viewing window. They were near the eye of the Tyranid splinter swarm now, ominous red vapour trails all around their craft. But none of the women flinched. They were in the embrace of Slaanesh now.

One of the few reasons the tyranids had not simply broken down all life in the galaxy yet was because they could not travel through the warp, at least, not most of the time. Slaanesh had been quite delighted when a splinter fleet that had evolved such an ability popped into the outer reaches of his domain one day and had taken them under his power immediately, overwhelming them while they were disconnected from the hive mind and experimenting with them. Mutations of chaos were -as their namesake suggested- chaotic in nature, but these creatures held similar properties within them, rapid changes over single generations or even a single lifetime, creating whole new abilities.

A single handful of bio-ships was not enough to risk in any one motion, so they had been kept back, reserved for a proper moment, yet as Slaanesh' plans with the Inquisiwhore and her people had taken shape, so too had the place of the Tyrannic fleet in those plans, and so he sent them on their way.

Breaching pods struck the Eldar vessel, eating their way through the hull of the skiff in a matter of minutes to provide bio-organic docking ports for the larger hive ships. Across the planet, psykers across the planet screamed in ecstasy at the sudden intrusion as a tainted and twisted version of the shadow in the warp set upon them without warning, yet as sensors and ships all across the world turned their eyes outwards, searching for the tyrannic presence, they found nothing.

It was a herald of things to come...

Tyranid organisms prowled the halls, many of them corralling the mind-broken corsairs and prompting waves of feminine moans from the crew as the living ones were collected. This Tyranid fleet was as capable of using raw and broken-down biomatter to create new hive organisms but with Slaaneshi influence corrupting them, there was a distinct preference for an alternative method of reproduction using females as surrogates, and after immeasurable time spent in the warp while Slaanesh waiting for their chance to unleash his personal swarm, it was perhaps a mercy that the females were already broken to cock and cum when they arrived, for the first few cycles of breeding would have been enough to reduce even the most hardened and jaded of the untainted Eldar Farseers to whimpering hive-whore.

Patience and her crew did not need to fear though. They were more valuable to Slaanesh in other ways. They were here to be modified, given gifts of chaos through the filter of tyrannic mutation, removing the risk of turning them into spawn or unintended side-effects. While the Former corsairs of Melyss' crew were taken away to be plugged into the ship itself so that their needs outside of breeding could be taken care of, the new champions of Slaanesh were taken elsewhere, led by a handful of gaunts towards separated rooms. The organisms in these chambers were unique, tailor-made for this purpose, and as the women approached, they were separated into groups.

Henrietta and Astarael were brought before a pair of zoanthropes, floating brains that hovered on a cushion of their own psionic energy that reached out for the pair with thick round-tipped tentacles that dangled below them, sweeping them up into an embrace that was both physical and mental as the creatures began to commune with them. While they were not receiving quite the same packages of mutations, both of them would be receiving them in the same manner as the tentacles explored their bodies -coiling around breasts and teasing at their lower holes- and both of them would find themselves with vastly-improved psionic capabilities of their own when all was said and done.

Jonelle was brought into an empty room, only to find that it was not as empty as it first appeared. The air seemed to ripple, and wherever she moved, she was subjected to dozens of little invisible touches, every one aimed to arouse and excite the assassin until eventually she would find herself bumping up against something hard. It would be around then that the two lictors -scything extra arms replaced by thick and powerful tentacles- would materialize from their camouflage, already reaching down to hoist her up and impale her slender form on their oversized shafts.

Rosamond was neither teased nor toyed with first, but rather confronted with a group of tyranid warriors. A single one of them would have been sufficient for the task, but all of them intended to have a turn with her. They did not tease, they did not prod, they simply waited, inhuman segmented shafts hard at attention, ready to be serviced.

And last there was Patience, confronted with not just a promise of pleasure but also a test. Before her crouched a hive tyrant, four armed and with a cock comparable to an autocannon hanging between his legs. He rushed at her, intending to pin the former inquisitor to the ground and ravage her, but while this would pass on genetic power, it was also a contest. Tyranids did not normally have leaders of any kind besides synapse creatures, but Slaanesh had introduced them to the concept, and were the whore queen to prove able to out-fuck the tainted hive leader, well she would become queen of this swarm as well, to direct it and use it as she saw fit. The final tool with which she could claim all that stood in her path...

Not a word was spoken as the female crew, now fully given over to Slaanesh, were led through the Tyranid craft. In their previous lives the organic nature of the craft, pulsing with life and malevolent alien intent, would have been near blasphemous in its odious corruption. Now? It simply felt right. Jonelle closed her eyes, bliss radiating through her body, as the soft flesh of the craft pulsed beneath her feet. Each woman was lost in sensation, knowing that this was start of something new. They were here to be remade in their master's wishes. To follow her profane will. Everything was calm.

Inquisitor Vadere, ushered into a central chamber that was flooded with a deep red organic glow, took in the crouching bulk of the Hive Tyrant in one glance. She was ready when it rushed her, rolling to the side, feeling the intense power of the creature as it slammed into the wall where she had been standing until seconds before. Landing on her feet, she dug deep into her new carnal and corrupt soul, and tried to unleash a wave of pheremones as she had learned to do with the Kroot. A dominating, female, shout of command and promised pleasure. If she could just get the monster to pause, she thought, she might be able to straddle it's throbbing cocks and assert some dominance. For now she poised, ready to dart aside if needed or take advantage of the situation if she could.

In the next room Jonelle purrs as she felt the invisible claws and tongues work her body. 'Oh Great Whore of the Warp' she moaned, her own hands caressing her lithe form, 'thank you...uhhh....thank you for giving me such pleasure. Such ....uhhhhh.....rewards'. As the lictors emerged from their invisibility, mannibles clacking and flared nostrils sniffing the air, she knew they could taste her arousal. She simply moaned, embracing pleasure with arms thrown wide, as they lifted her up between them. Her slender body bulged as they thrust their cocks deep inside her receptive body, her orifices already slick with arousal, and she began to writhe with the xenos, bouncing between the two, stuffing herself full of their manhoods.

The two psykers founded themselves lifted into the air, gasping and writhing as their bodies were caressed by the dangling tentacles of the zoanthropes that occupied the room. Neither put up any sort of fight. In fact, sensing the psychic power of the two creatures that linked with their own psionic abilities, the two were soon in mind-meld with the aliens. They put as much mental effort into pleasing the zoanthropes as they received, the mental connections as powerful and pleasurable as the physical contacts.

Finally, Rosamond was confronted with a group of towering warriors. Each had a cruel, inhuman, member jutting out between their armored plates. They turned to her, as the stacked blonde entered the room, but made no move towards her. There was no subtlety or guile to Rosamond's actions. She strode across the room, her ass shifting from side to side deliciously, and braced herself against the far wall. She purred as her hands touched the organic, living, walls of the tyranid craft. Warmth greetings her palms. Her ass stuck out as she spread her legs, not needing to look over her shoulder or speak to make the invitation to use her holes more clear to the warriors watching her.

The Carnifex bounced off the flesh of the interior wall and rolled into a crouch, giving a low hiss as it prepared to charge again only for the sound to suddenly rise as Patience counterattacked with her newfound abilities. It hesitated, cock visibly throbbing and pulsing beneath it as it drew up slightly, its inhuman erection having gone from a desire that demanded satisfaction to a painful need. The hulking carnifex chattered in frustration as it's cock swelled another inch, becoming painfully hard as it regarded the inquisitor. As Tyrannic entity, it was fully aware of its every feature of biology and this new growth startled it. In a moment, it would attack again, but for that moment, it hesitated, confused by both her sudden aggression and it's own body's unfamiliar responses to that aggression. It reared up and back onto its hind legs, cock jutting in front of it like some fleshy and perverse weapon, and in that moment, the Inquisitor had her opening to strike physically as well as mentally...


All of the girls were inherently more sexual beings since they'd been touched by Slaanesh, but as Jonelle was impaled on the twin shafts of the lictor pair her touch was most apparent. The assassin had been flexible and adaptable before even the first tainted tendrils of chaos had wormed their way into her, as two now-deceased orkish Nobs could have attested after ravaging both her holes, but these creatures were easily half as thick again as the orks had been. Before this, taking even just one of them would have stretched Jonelle to her limit, and taking two would have split her apart, yet even while her stomach bulged with cock, flesh outlining every ridge of those inhuman shafts and holes stretched taut to take them she did not come apart under those pressures.

However, while the lictors cocks prepared the catalytic cum that would complete her changes, their tentacles and long tongues laid the groundwork, slithering over her limbs and torso to cover the assassin in a slick sheen of saliva that seemed to shimmer slightly in rainbows of color. They squirmed everywhere, coating her outside for completeness and inside -pushing those long tongues and tentacles down her throat and thrusting in a slick and wriggling parody of a manhood- for the pure sake of watching the assassin squirm with pleasure as she was plugged in every hole.


For the Psykers, the change was to more internal, and so as the tentacles thrust into them, thousands of smaller tendrils began to split off from the main ones, altering them in body while their mind-meld taught them the new possibilities of their powers. For Henriette, the very act of intercourse or touching her sexual fluids would make most men and women more pliable and open to any psychic manipulation she might choose to instill and her gaze would take on a hypnotic quality, her eyes becoming prismatic and mesmerizing to look at. It was quite similar to what genestealers could do, only rather than relying on crude physical injection these linked them by simple contact and amplified them through the once-penitent's already potent psychic powers. Slaanesh hadn't just chosen to use the Tyranids as vehicles for his gifts, it had also learned from them, and when it came to the genestealers, it thought they'd had some pretty good ideas...

Astarael on the other hand needed few advantages when it came to manipulation considering what she had already accomplished through her existing talents, and while the Zoanthrope's attentions would amplify the heretic's powers anyways, her true gift was something more devious. Zoanthropes acted as relays through which the hive could exert it's will and so Astarael was being taught how to become the same for Patience, a living avatar of the Inquisiwhore's will, the first of many who would convey her commands and influence and spread her blessings of pleasure to the people of the imperium...


And then there was Rosamond, chosen for her strength and power to serve this role. Like the hulking Tyranid creatures that began to cluster around her as she braced herself, heads tilting as the swarm communicated with each other, determining in silence who would take her first, she was a warrior, the perfect genetic stock from which an army could be bred. Where the others were given gifts of subtlety, she was given gifts of power as the first of them braced himself and thrust in turn, huge segmented cock slamming deep into her with that single massive motion. By the time this was done while her humanity would still be apparent beneath the regalia, there would also be a certain alien nature to her, plates of natural armor that could extend to cover her body -though her breasts and pussy would remain always on display for Slaanesh' glory-, claws that could extend from the tips of her fingers, sharp enough to tear ceramite.

More than that though, her eggs would be modified, twisted to produce tyranid-hybrids, fast growing, quick, deadly, and every one of them as beautiful as their mother. The perfect warrior and the perfect breeder, the centre of the frontline whose daughters would become an army and fight alongside her, showing the worthy the glory of slaanesh while showing the unworthy his strength, for after all, not every enemy could necessarily be overcome with lust alone.