Whorehammer 40,000 Lays (Pornomancer)

[Mashugana]

One of your captors immediately lunges forward towards you, eyes wild and cock red and stiff as he pushes you down, preparing to thrust before being kicked in the face by one of his peers, blood, saliva and a few teeth fly from his mouth as one of the much larger bestigors snarls, curved horns pointing up towards the heavens as he lazily swings around, striking a few other lesser gors who've gotten too close for comfort as he moves in to take you like how a lion would take the kill of a pair of hyenas, before reaching down for your hips with a commanding, no nonsense approach as he bares a huge, horselike member and presses it against your all too vulnerable opening. With a stern, commanding chortle and one unyielding, yet slow thrust, you feel the bestigor's hard, virile length push inside you with surprisingly little resistance, filling you out even as one of the lesser gors is brave enough to approach your head and face, getting a low warning growl from the bestigor, but seemingly being allowed to do as he pleased so long as he didn't interfere with his better's rutting into you. As the red haired gor lowered himself to his knees, his own shaft tantalizingly close to your face as he looked down upon you with cruel, hawklike eyes and grunted.

With that, you feel the bestigor piston in and out of your cunny with a feral glee, thrusting into you at a frantically increasing pace as the one at your head gives your cheek a small tap with the head of his own cock before pushing towards your mouth, a wordless command not to bite as the beastmen attempt to turn you into a lewd spitroast!

[pornomancer]

I moan pathetically as my supple wraithbone pussy surrenders its form naturally, turning into a perfect wet home for cocks to fill with fertile cum. The bestigors dominating presence makes me realize how small and pathetic I am compared to his massive bulk. In the end, for all the speed and grace and elegance of aeldari.... we are nothing but weak sacks of meat when faced with the strength of even mon-keigh, much less these chaos creatures.

And is it the fate of the weak to be dominated by the strong? Has the entire existence of the aeldari and our fall merely been the proof that we have been too weak to fight our betters? Should we give in?

Give in.... I do not even think to say a prayer to Isha as I open my little mouth to take in the hard cock of the gor into my mouth, letting myself be the cocksleeve that the drukhari made me to be. With only the fleetest of licks of the gors cock, I start to skillfully suck on the chaos tainted cock while my hips take on their natural role to buck into the bestigors thrusting babymaker, eagerly awaiting the next load of cum to flood my womb and make my belly swell with babies, as undoubtedly the rest of my aeldari sisters will experience once these beasts are done with us....

[Mashugana]

Your captors both seem to enjoy your eagerness and lack of resistance, the one taking your mouth even giving what almost sounds like a distorted purr as he strokes your hair while thrusting into you, and the bestigor thrusting into your womb gives an approving growl as he bottoms out, leaving himself sheathed completely inside for a moment to adjust and let the bumps and veins of his brutish cock rub against your insides before resuming his ferocious pace, hard enough to jostle your entire body a bit with each thrust as lewd moans and the sounds of beastmen and Aeldari captives sound throughout the forest, the heated blood of battle easily transitioning to hedonistic lust as the monsters make use of their prizes!

Already, you can smell the strong odor of semen on the air as one Aeldari woman yelps and squeals while her beastman partner empties himself into her, no doubt siring at least one more horrid mutant on this planet as you feel your own mates' temperatures rising, their shafts pulsating as they rut into you like the animals they are, with others crowding around and looking to get their own pieces of you, "weapons" armed and ready!

[pornomancer]

Surrounded by all these beastial creatures with hard cocks eagerly waiting to plunge into my womb and fuck me pregnant once again sends a terrible thrill through my body, The sound of y sisters being bred all around me is both shameful and arousing, and I think of the journey into motherhood they will take with me when their wombs are filled with cruel mutants as well.

Still though, I am blessed by Isha, and though I have been defeated and claimed by these creatures, Isha may bless me with the power I need to convert any creature growing inside me into wraithbone fragments, resources for me to turn into soldiers to fight against these beasts when the time comes. And n order to do that, I need my womb to be filled with seed.

Bucking up against the creature fucking me, I use my body to stroke the cock from within, aiming to have my womb filled with lifegiving seed... and if that doesn't take, to have more cocks ravage me till I'm fucked pregnant!

[Mashugana]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Pregnancy roll: 89, pregnant!

The bestigor's thrusts take on a frantic turn for a while, his grunts turning even more primal and ferocious as he pulls you away from the gor using your mouth to lean in and press as deep as he can before letting loose a low, loud growl, releasing a torrent of hot, sticky and virile spunk deep into your snatch! His thrusts become slow, deep pumps as he pushes as much of his seed into you as he can, gritting his teeth and grinding his hips against yours for a few seconds just to make sure the job's done, before giving a final satisfactory grunt and pulling out and off of you whilst breathing heavily. Even as he does this, you can feel some of his seed dripping out of your ravaged slit, but the warm feeling in your womb, as well as the feeling of stirring energy in it, tells you that it's taken root even as the other gors pile in for their turns, mercilessly mounting you again and again and taking any hole they can reach as you're used as a public fuckdoll for at least half a dozen warriors, before the call to return to the tribe's home is sounded and you and the other captives are picked up and bound, carried on the shoulders of the beastmen who'd violated you all so thoroughly that not a single one isn't covered and leaking the salty deposits of their attackers, with many too exhausted to even mount a minor struggle as they're carried off to the camp!

The trip takes what feels like three or four hours, judging by the sun's falling and the sounds of toads croaking in the distance, and the camp itself is fairly large, with what seems like maybe a little over a hundred beastmen roaming around. You and the other captives are put in crude cages constructed of wood and bone, your weapons and armor having been stripped and taken to a large tent off on the other side of the camp, near the chief's tent going by the much high quality hides it appears to made of, and it's size. As you're set down in a cage with two other corsair women, the gor shouts for an ungor, causing the deformed, almost humanlike beastman to come running with pieces of charred meat from some animal and a few hides, which are tossed to your group.

"Well, I suppose frozen and starved broodmares aren't all that useful or fun." One of your cage mates mutters, brushing some semen covered black hair out of her face as she grabs a piece of meat, her legs still trembling from the furious fucking she'd received earlier.

[pornomancer]

The cock explodes inside of my cunt, flooding my body with thick fertile sperm once more. I moan around the gor cock in my mouth as my helpless womb is filled with cruel chaos tainted cum, my eggs ready to be defiled and grow another mutant inside my body. The knowledge that my body is being put to use -to fulfill its purpose as a female and spawn life inside - fills my soul with joy, and I pray to Isha that she would grant me the strength to convert this chaos creature into a wraithbone construct, to aid me and my friends in my escape later.

Not that I have much time to think about this as the rest of the herd finally seizes their chance to mate with me once the bestigor is done with me, falling unto me with a savage lust that only chaos tainted beasts can muster. I squeal in shameful joy as I am bred over and over again by these creatures, filled with more hot cum in all my holes as I fuck and suck and jerk my way to orgasmic joy. Shamefully I think that my moans of pleasure are even louder than those of my friends who are raped alongside me... though from the moans reverberating around the forests, I am hardly the only one enjoying my defilement.

Finally though, I come to my senses, and take stock of my surroundings. I am left with two corsairs, and an unknown number of other aeldari in other cages, in the middle of a large beastman camp. Given the size of the camp my heart sinks, as my corsair kin would have been overwhelmed no matter what we did, given our numbers were less than twenty and more than five times that were waiting for us. I subconsciously rub my belly, wondering how many wraithbone constructs I would have to birth in order to muster a fighting force that could potentially take out these beastmen. I guess now would be as a good a time as any to figure out if Ishas blessings would allow me to coinvert a pregnancy of my aeldari sisters into wraithbone constructs as well... or if Ishas blessings were still beyond my ken.

Still, before I commence my attempt at working my gift on my sister, I should at least ensure that I am in their good graces. 'Though we are kept alive by these foul creatures because they seek to use us as playthings, the entire recent history of our race is that we are survivors beyond anything else. We survived the Fall, we survived our exodus, and we survived our exile from the craftworlds to be corsairs. Survive, and when the time comes, we shall strike back!'

[Mashugana]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Rolling for conversion (Own spawn): 20, Persuasion roll: 22! Crit!

Both of your comrades nod determinedly, their spirits bolstered by your rousing if short speech. "That's true, we can't just sit and let these degenerates win, so we'll just have to wait for an opportunity, unless we can make one." the blonde sitting in the cage with you and the brunette pipes up, glancing at the ungor. "If I remember correctly, beastmen tend to view those with small or few horns as being less worthy in their hierarchy. You might've noticed that the ones with the largest horns were the ones who got to... have their pick first, then the lesser members of their tribe. Creatures like him weren't with the warband." she notes as the ungor limps away, his long drooping face and warped jaw set in a permanent grimmace as he clearly favored his left leg over his right to get back to his perch, just a few yards from your cage's location and within sight of the other captives.

Occasionally, you would hear whoops and braying laughter, this time more raucous and slurred, and you could see some of the beastmen swaying and crashing into things and each other as they occasionally stopped to inspect the cages, shouting for the ungor to bring a crude key to unlock a cage so they could carry off one of the women, her frightened expression only slightly obscured by the hairy creatures as they bore her away despite her protest, going back around the tents towards the sounds of drunken debauchery. You also noticed several ungors entering your field of vision as well, many nursing signs of abuse and mistreatment, including wounds and scarring as they eyed you for a moment, fascinated by your appearance before dropping their gazes and huddling together or splitting food with each other, rotten tubors and scraps of meat.

[pornomancer]

Thankfully these ladies are more amenable than Jaheira was. And from what I can sense of my power, Isha still blesses us. The beastman mutant growing inside my womb is turned into a wraithbone construct, and I can sense the flickers of psyker power which bind me to my growing construct. Whats more, Ishas blessin has allowed me to convert the two filthy spawn inside my sisters wombs as well. Until it is time to give birth, the beastmen will not know that I am growing their own downfall in the bellies of my sisters!

Though from what I can see, their downfall from within may come from themselves. The pathetic little unggors clearly are not happy with their servitude towards the horned beastmen. The sight of my sisters being carried away fills me with despair, but their plight inspires me to try something. 'Unggor! Come here!' I call to one of the unggors that averted his gaze to me. 'I'm hungry.... I have something to trade!'

Of course, I don't know if these unggors are even sentient, but from what I can see their chaos corruption was not as advanced as their brethren, so they are still more recognizable as mon-keigh. If I can get him to start talking to me.... I might be able to find a way to break open this camp!

[Mashugana]

Your sisters also feel the blessings of Isha, their expressions turning to small displays of awe and soothed pains as the power of their goddess, so distant but familiar as a mother's touch, turns their chaos tainted offspring into purified babes of wraithbone! Their discipline however allows them to keep their calm as you begin to enact your plan, however, and one even gives a small hopeful smile!

Your allies watch with interest as the ungor you call out to looks up at you from his meal in alarm, then shoots a look back towards the center of camp where the gors are enjoying their prizes, both in loot and women going by the cries and moans of your sisters among them. Cautiously, with many glances behind him, the ungor approaches, keeping just a touch out of arm's reach from you and eyeing you suspiciously. You note that one of his eyes is hazel, whilst the other is a dull greenish color, and he's got a lot of half healed, crudely treated cuts, scratches and bruises. As you guessed, either from prior knowledge or simple observation, the less mutated, unhorned members among the beastmen were treated cruelly by the stronger horned variants, being seen as less blessed by the gods of Chaos.

"Keep quiet or gors hear, breeder!" he hisses at you, clearly not wanting to be discovered talking to you. It was likely that if he were found doing this, he'd get more than the usual beating. However, you also notice that he's not subtly looking you and your cellmates over as well, a bit of hunger and curiosity gleaming in his eyes despite the fear! With a small swallow, the ungor hunkers down into a low crouch, before jerkily nodding his head. "What give Rawhide for more food?" he asks, his voice a somewhat unsteady croak.

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

6 turns til birth

[pornomancer]

Rawhide. Well. First time I've heard that the beastmen have names for themselves. I know the most powerful tainted of Chaos tend to be.... blessed.... by the Chaos gods, to have their minds somewhat restored. A drukharii mandrake once said in passing that the curse of madness is so much worse when the chaos warrior can see how little control he has, and it compels them towards greater servitude to the Chaos gods.

Maybe. I don't know. At least I know that most of these gors are given to their animalistic urges, and won't hear anything from me. Which means.... I have a window of opportunity here. 'Rawhide, my sisters and I need food. Help give us food, and let us keep our extra food hidden here.... and I'll give you what the Gors have been denying you!'

Not that I need the food, but hopefully these creatures don't know that. If I can hide our growing spawn in whatever little hiding hole they grant me, I can at least keep our growing wraithbone forces hidden for a short while until I get my next move.

Of course, if I can lead an escape earlier.... that would be better. And maybe these ungors can show me the fractures in this society.

[Mashugana]

You can almost physically see the gears turning in Rawhide's head, his expression turning contemplative as he weighed his options. In fact, you almost found it to be similar to some Orks you'd spied on when you were alive as they tried to plan their next move, albeit smaller, with less green. You could tell that he was weighing the possibility of being killed or worse against the promise of your favors, but in the end...

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

20vs4, critical success!

Suddenly, Rawhide lunges forward with a rusty key in his clawed hand, opening the door and reaching in to grab you by the arm and pull you out with him, looking back towards the camp furtively. "Rawhide knows good place, great tree in woods nearby. Must go before Horned God arrives for bride and Eldar flesh."

He glances up at the sky after mentioning this "Horned God", and despite the dark sky, you can't help but feel a shiver down your spine, as if you're a field mouse caught in an open field as the cruel gaze of an eagle watches over you, great wings casting it's shadow over your all too small, frail form.

Thunder, or something that sounds like thunder, comes from the distance to the northwest.

[pornomancer]

Great horned god? Which Chaos God could they be referring to? Doesn't sound like anyone I'm particularly familiar with. Eldar flesh as food for chaos worshippers is.... not unheard of. But bride? Thats ominous.

Still, I have a small victory here. Rawhide seems intent on helping me for the moment, and I will maximize it as much as I can. Nodding at the other corsairs with me, I hope that they will cover for me as I am led into the woods by Rawhide. I follow him first, so that I can know where my eventual little hiding spot will be when I birth my forces. Of course.... if any opportunity to escape presents itself, I'll have to evaluate my options.

Ignoring the noise from the northwest, I move with Rawhide, wondering where this little creature was going to bring me.

[Mashugana]

Rawhide looks up at the sky as he leads you into the forest, his expression fearful as he picks up his pace and leads you in, only pausing occasionally to listen for threats or to issue some instruction as to how to proceed, until you come to a twisted, gnarled tree with old, decayed bones piled around it. The tree itself is bone white, and appears to almost gleam in the lighting, with a chill emanating from it that seems to resonate with your own body. Could it be...

"Very old tree, beastmen not go near for fear of dying, leave bodies to keep tree sleeping." Rawhide murmurs to you, nodding at it. "Tree has hole around other side, not sure what in there but look big enough to hide breeders. Good?"