Captain Rathschil & The Cybernetic Xenos Trollops

"Good ladies and gentlemen, Master Theodore's tale has reminded me of an incident of strikingly similar composition from some twenty-seven years gone, involving a good friend/rival/business partner of mine." Nemo takes a seat near the fire recently vacated by one Dr. Bursyle, who had headed up to a room upstairs.

"My relationship with Captain Rathschil is a longstanding one, and of immense complexity over its century of existence, we've been the best of friends, the most heated of rivals, and business partners on dozens upon dozens different ventures; occasionally we've been all three at once. What we've never been is enemies, and that's a rare thing for me among fellow Rogue Traders." He says, before slipping a single chunk of pineapple from the bowl brought by a scantily dressed serving wench of the club into his mouth, chewing swiftly, and swallowing.

"This incident took place on the shroud-world of Vendikar, where I had been cut-in on one of Captain Rathschil's lucrative deals with the Adeptus Mechanicus for helping them remove a few massive items of Archeotech from that lost, frozen, and benighted world. The Catharine's Fancy you see has vast holds large enough to stow entire small cathedrals inside, where Captain Rathschil's own ship, The Rolling Star Dancer's Wife, is much much smaller, a mere retrofitted Voltarian-Class raider, so he has no space to transport anything of such size without outside aid. These archeotech devices were entire contiguously assembled mobile factory units, and of intense interest to the Mechanicum, but there was a hitch, as usual." Nemo explains further.

"The planet had been claimed for a colony world by a Sanctioned Xenos race known as the Vhrondi, and we could not remove the items without their permission. The Vhrondi are strange in many ways, but the biggest of them is that they believe they are damned human souls sent back into the galaxy for a final chance at redemption and by engineering themselves to be closer to humans, they bring their race closer to redeeming itself. Many Vhrondi do this through cybernetics, and Bionics, but there is a strong undercurrent of direct genetic engineering among them, and one of the things they desire for that is fresh DNA samples from human men and women of exceptionally pure bloodlines." He further elaborates.

"Myself and my friend Rathschil, plus eight others, had been chosen for this purpose from among those involved in the project by the Mechanicum. Five of us were women and five were men. The women had a dozen unfertilized eggs harvested and turned over in sterile purity by Mechanicus Doctors. We males however were expected to prove our virility manually, by bedding at least one of the priestess caste of their race." He pulls a fanciful pipe made entirely from a carved large black pearl with a mother-of-pearl stem from his jacket and lights it. The aromatic smoke it emits smells nothing like either tobacco or marijuana, yet what he tamped into it were clearly shreds of some type of dried leaf; the scent partaking somewhat of sandalwood, roses, and something exotic that only one native to the galactic standard year 50261 or later could recognize.

After a few short puffs, he continues. "Now, what sparked my memory of this incident, was your description of the temple Master Theodore. It was a very similar structure to which we were taken for the ritual: a ziggurat of faintly glowing translucent dark green stone blocks, shot through with a complicated lattice of brightly shining iridescent purple streaks and whorls. Both the Eclisiarchy and Mechanicum assured us it wasn't Warp-tainted but initially I had my doubts. There was just something unnatural about the place." He takes another puff or two.

"Well, I won't bore you with the procession and pageantry of approaching the temple to the cheering crowd of half-insectile/half-humanoid Xenos who lined the broad avenue of the great cave-city where the temple of union lay, but I will go into the meet-and-greet among the five captains and the twenty five priestesses we had to chose from for this excursion, and this time I'm not omitting my own part in it. You see, there is no cess in describing your sullying the purity of a xenos woman, for they are impure by nature; and more so these women would be honored and proud to have it noised abroad that they were of such prestige that they were permitted to be bedded by an actual human." Another piece of pineapple is eaten, with obvious relish. "Lovely stuff, this pineapple, such a pity it went extinct on human worlds twent-five millennia ago..." He muses.

"Anyway, let me now more closely describe Vhrondi, so you get a better sense of what we had to deal with. Vhrondi are a small race. Those among them with the largest heights stand a mere five feet tall, and they are slender to the point of emaciation. However, their females have large breasts, each one easily the size of a peach on their smallest chested priestesses, and the upper end is somewhere in the range of a very small ripe watermelon. Their eyes are semi-compound, and have bright blue irises which glow in that color as well with an odd form of bio-electric luminescence, allowing them to see quite clearly in otherwise unlit areas. Their noses mere slits, which don't even really work for olfactory sense, that is accomplished through their long and flexible antennae. They have iridescent dragonfly wings on their backs each one about four feet long and stiffened around the edges with thin and small strips of hollow bone. They have a combination of a human-like mouth in front, but inside it are an extra layer of grinding mandibles that serve much the same purpose as our molar teeth. They have four chitinous arms and legs, except the most dedicated priestesses who completely sever one pair each and replace the others with bionic prosthetics to become "More Human". Their lower body ends in a smallish thorax which contains most of their reproductive organs, so the ones that adapt to be more human have to move them into their abdomen, making them look perpetually pregnant and utterly grotesque when they truly are. They are covered in a downy layer of fine straight hairs in the same range of colors as humans, all over their bodies except for their hands and feet. Now, with that description done, let me explain about the priestesses." He sips his Aamasec-and-Tonic on-the-rocks.

"There were twenty-five of them, as mentioned, each one fitting into one of five categories and evenly distributed amongst them: the total bionic converts, the heavy genetic converts, the cybernetic converts, the lightly converted, and the Au-Natural priestesses. Most of this is fairly easy to picture, I should think;" he says and takes a puff before continuing.

"Total bionic converts used bionics to appear almost fully human, body parts replaced by rubber and plastics and monomers to mimic the human form quite closely. The only thing that betrays their inhuman nature is the pseudo-pregnant bellies and in some cases antennae."

"Heavy genetic converts were similar, except instead of bionics they used artificially grown genetically modified tissue like bone, skin, and musculature, they looked more realistic, but Cris-Crossed by patterns of artistic scars."

"The Cybernetic converts were different, they appeared to be tech-priestesses, except for certain natural elements, such as their thorax and one of their pairs of arms remaining fully xenos tissue. They had vast expanses of their flesh replaced by smooth black plastic, or steel, or chrome; one, the leader of the delegation, was done-up entirely in flexible glossy black rubber and gold. They honestly looked more inhuman than the last type, which we will get to in a little while."

"The Lightly Converted, were not necessarily any less altered than the others, though most were, but seemed to have all taken a middle road of using some parts from each of the other styles in their personal journey toward human perfection; making them somewhat look monstrous in their mish-mash of human imitating replacement parts. The other key difference is that none of them had given up two of their arms and legs as most of the members of the other three groups already discussed had done."

"And then, there were the unaltered, the Au-Natural. As described above these women were clearly inhuman, dressed in long and flowing gauzy and see-through robes in five colors, black, red, green, white, and blue. They also ran the gamut of human hair-colors and skin tones, appearing to be converted at a more genetic level than even the Genetic Converts, born with semi-human faces and bodies. Each one also represented one of the great ancient phenotypes of Holy Terra; Africans, Americans, Europeans, Asiatics, and Islanders."

A long pull from his glass follows, and then it is set back down. "We each had to pick between one and three of these women to bed in payment for the archeotech. As the organizer of this group Captain Rathschil got first-pick. Like the good little Mechanicus Adherent that he is, Rathschil chose one of the Cybernetic Converts, specifically, their leader. He's always been surprisingly monodominant, in spite of the heterodoxy of his religion. Even myself, whose main backing is the very straight-laced Ecclesiarchy, tend to be more willing to treat with xenos than he is, though he will do it when he must, to be fair. I, my Warrant of Trade having the greatest sonority of those gathered, picked next, and chose for myself the 'African' unaltered Priestess; a member of the Bionic group who had bedecked herself entirely in shades and tints of purple for her bionics, and even similarly dyed her body hair; and lastly one of the Genetic Converts with flame orange hair all over her flesh and a pattern of scars reminiscent of flames." The pipe is puffed on once again, quickly sending up a little blaze of brief-lived sparks.

"Now the inside of the temple was also much as Master Theodore described, but there were eight tables with their manacles, and instead of myself being the strapped-down party, it was each of my partners in her turn. I went in reverse order of choosing, bedding the flame-red haired woman with the scars and grafted organs first. She was a lively and spirited woman, I'll say that, and those immense breasts of hers were a delight to kneed and roll between my hands. I must have spent a good twenty-five minutes playing with her augmented flesh before I managed to make myself cum inside her, filling her sex with such a wealth of semen that it dripped out onto the slab to which she was strapped. During the entire encounter she said not one word to me, and I have often wondered if she were a mute based on the behavior of the other two." A sip of the pineapple juices is taken.

Now next came the Bionic Priestess, and she was far more vocal. In deference to the well-bred company here I shall not recount her exact utterances, but they were an endless stream of babbled lewd and lascivious swearing and demands for greater and greater pleasures. I finally decided to shut her up by shoving my cock into her gullet, as she had somewhat urged me to do several times already. It would seem that her inner mandibles had been augmented with silicone brushes and padding so that as she choked on my member and tried desperately to chew it off by mere instinct, all it produced was a warm and slippery rubbing sensation along my shaft. I reached my full into her mouth much faster than the first Xenos slut that I bedded that day, and emptied my load across her tongue. She swallowed it like a good slut, but I assume she had some sort of catchment system among her Augmentations, otherwise she would have been harshly punished for wasting my seed, rather than given an approving nod by her fellow priestesses." Pauses here to drink a bit of the mildly alcoholic ice water at the bottom of his glass, wetting his throat before moving on.

"At last, I came to the African." His smile warms several degrees at the memory. "She was a study in blacks and dark browns, I've never seen anyone like her, and she was by-far the most intelligent of the three. We sat for a full twenty minutes while I recovered my strength taking in flawless High-Gothic, and she didn't remove her gauzy black robe until we had already begun to mate, which as both her skin and hair were also nearly ebony in hue made it harder to discern what lay beneath for her than any of the others of her group. Ah me, she's great at sex, a true Geisha such as only Planetary Governors can typically afford to retain. That wide and puffed out halo of kinky hair, the smooth sheen of her fur-like body hair, the wanton look in her nearly human eyes, everything drew me in inexorably toward my full."

"It is unlikely to surprise you that I had to take longer with her than the others, but the reason might be more shocking. I could have finished inside her faster than any of the others, she was the most human, after-all, save the four legs, four arms, and dragonfly wings, but she was someone whose contact I wished to savor, so I held back from completion for a full forty-one minutes. MMM, my member swells at the mere memory of that night." Nemo states, and the sharp-eyed among the audience can see it is true as a pronounced bulge forms in the left-leg of his trousers.

"After I had used all three of her natural holes I wiped off my member and finished up inside her vibrating quim. She was so thrilled that She squirmed around me sucking me in and keeping me hard for a minute and a half. I was smitten with her, and so, later, after the archeotech was loaded, I did something which seemed crazy at the time, but which I still don't regret, I kidnapped her." The shocked faces of some of the listeners only make Nemo grin wider. "Perhaps 'kidnapped' was the wrong word, after all, I had her enthusiastic consent in the affair, but eloped isn't right either, since we both know that she is unworthy of me and we can never wed. She is like a prized parrot, intelligent, and able to speak, but not human, and, for that reason, she can never be more than a thinking sex-toy and companion to me. We have both always understood our arrangement, and she wears my collar well. In a way, I do love her, though its neither as you would love a wife, nor a normal pet such as a dressage horse; but instead some bizarre middle ground." Nemo Begins to finish the pineapple chunks and smoke his pipe.

"That's the end of that story, who shall speak next?" He finishes after a short interval.