*This is the fourth part of the violet rose story series found on* [*www.amaazingpages.wordpress.com*](https://www.amaazingpages.wordpress.com)
*Its nsfw but not as graphic as part 2, but may still contain depictions some might find uncomfortable, so be warned.*
*{I’d link to the parts page but my copy paste has suddenly decided to play up >:(}*
*As always feedback is welcome and appreciated, you might want to go back and read the other parts first if you arent familiar with the story. (the manually typed link above should work lol). Anyway…enjoy!*
The Morning After.
Anwen looked at herself fully in the large mirror in front of her. After arriving at the manor of her three ‘owners’, the group had wasted little time in helping themselves to her body.
The man who seemed to have assumed an unofficial leadership of the three, Corin Dulcane, promptly had her strip naked in front of them all, a display that they had all enjoyed immensely as they undressed what little they had on themselves.
Using the small translator, they then told her to get on her knees.
The three naked men had towered over her, their large erections throbbing just in front of her face, when she was told to take ‘the oath’.
One of the other men, Erastus Dominic, handing her a piece of paper, told her to read what was on it to them all.
She looked it over, it was in Ymiri language, and Anwen wondered how they were able to get access to her peoples written language to make the note, it didn’t really matter in the end.
She looked up at the men and began to speak, her implant soothing her rage as she recited the contents., her words translated into the Imperial tongue for them to hear.
“I, Anwen Nemeas, formerly of the Auganar Kithid. Do hereby pledge my body to lifelong servitude to my new masters, Corin Dulcane, Erastus Dominic and Lucas Junias. I will submit without hesitation to all demands from them, sexual or otherwise, and offer no resistance to their attentions or desires. I exist to serve and tend to their needs, and will satisfy any tastes and demands required of me. I will submit myself to any associates that they tell me to service, and henceforth are available to use in any way my masters desire. I, Anwen Nemeas, once Auganar, are now nothing more than slave and concubine to stated owners.”
The three jeered in triumph as she finished reading. She spent the rest of the night chained to a large bed as the three men took their turns ravishing her. Throughout the whole ordeal though, the implant kept her stimulated, making sure that her body enjoyed and responded to the attention, and its numbing effects kept her fury buried deep in the back of her mind.
She looked at herself in the mirror again. Her breasts and nipples were covered in suction marks from their mouths, and her womanhood was sore from the long night of sex.
Even after waking up, she still felt all three of the groups spendings sloshing around inside her, and as she made her way to the ‘rest stables’ that the orator had told the women was theirs to go to when not performing duties, she felt trickles of thick fluid running down her legs.
She wasn’t the only one, when she arrived at the place, there were already several other women there, dressed in revealing white gown dresses that were the only clothing available to them, she saw lines of white semen streaking down all of their inside legs.
The stables, as they were named by Farros, at first glance seemed like a serene retreat. There were showers and sauna huts available for when clean up was required, and the place had a large gym with a variety of exercise machines. Servitors ran a grooming and make-up section to decorate the slaves as demands required, and there were large dining and rest areas for the concubines to recuperate and socialise together.
Anwen thought it was a place of respite at first glance, but as the morning went by, both her and Chiana realised it was as much of a tool to the society as the chips in their heads were.
“Look at the statues in this place, the decor! What do you see?!” Chiana pointed at a large mural upon the dining rooms far wall.
She was right, all of the statues were silhouettes of well endowed men, and at their waists, in some position or another, were chained up and bound women, leaning up in supplication and awe. The mural depicted a large ocean faring vessel, sailing a dangerous ocean filled with predators, partially built out of the wall. The decks were populated with naked men, with one at the very front pointing forwards to the other half of the scene.
Here was what looked to be an island, and on it were many bound and kneeling female figures. Each one had glowing green stones for eyes, meant to depict the Ymiri’s eye color. It was obvious what the piece represented.
“They really are full of themselves aren’t they?! The Gamenites I mean.” Anwen turned away from the mural, snorting.
“Your right there, but Something has always been at the back of my mind. In the mines I didn’t really have time to think about it much, but here, with what we’re going through now, it’s a question I’d really like an answer to.”
“What is it?” She looked back at Chiana, who was still gazing at the mural.
“Have any of us ever seen a Gamenite woman before?! Have you ever seen one?! Not the rank and file they sometimes use as muscle. I mean like them! With the pale shade of skin and the jet black hair?!”
Anwen thought back to the mines, even to that early memory at the auction house. She had seen plenty of non Ymiri women, but they all had warmer and darker shades of skin, more normal looking, healthy, along with a variety of hair colours like her own people.
Yet the Gamenites, or so they called themselves, all had the same pale skin and black hair, it seemed, and the whites of their eyes were always bloodshot around the edges slightly.
But like Chiana had pointed out, she had never seen a woman like that. It had always been men when they had shown themselves to them before now, and here, the Ymiri were the only women on what was increasingly apparent to be a starship, rather than a planet. The ‘sky’ above them occasionally shimmered, indicating it was a hologram.
“Your right!” Anwen looked over to her again. “I’ve never seen a Gamenite woman, at all!”
No Man Escapes Them.
The Genoxias size meant that anything could be hidden within its depths, and deep within a section that only the ships servitors ventured to, something stirred to life.
Cortical life support turned up to full, waking what was left alive of the mummified remains brain. Servo’s on the machines limbs twitched to action, allowing creaking movements to check nothing had seized up, and the brain tissues computator interface started scanning the Genoxias logic engines for crew rosters and life signatures.
The now mostly decayed head remained leaning to one side, but the large machine seemed to sigh in spiteful pleasure when Prince Elian Augustin’s name showed up on the crew manifest. The scans returned 327 active life signs of full human beings, and a non official list found on the computators files indicated 74 Ymiri women and 253 Gamenite men.
The machine gave off a mechanical growl in response to the information. Pre programmed orders activated within the cortical interface as the cybernetic monster started to move, heavy stomps echoing on the metallic floor, a screech of hot steam vented out the tops as its power plants turned up to maximum.
The foolish boy thought he could evade the reach of the Matrinovae, thought he could hide his plots from his own mother? No! Even on her deathbed she had made plans, organised assets and observers, and arranged multiple contingencies alongside the Matrinovae. The degenerate wretch that pulled him into his little circle, Farros Urias, was no doubt the brains behind this seedy little scheme, but make no mistake, the sisterhood always had spies watching over the menkin!
The last of the updated directives were given to what was left of the late Vevruthia Augustin’s brain, it was time to wake the others. It would take a while, but time was the one thing it had!.
Organising a group party
“Yes, your Rustwalker’s muscular physique is indeed striking Berin, But our Chiana’s firm thighs can squeeze the passion out of even the most demanding of suitors!”
The group of ten men all laughed out at Salek’s lewd remark. Chalices of fine wine were clinked together as the men continued to talk of their Ymiri slaves supposed sexual prowess, trying to measure them up to one another’s
“Dear Anwen is a fiery one though, and not just in her hair color.” Erastus chimed in, “Her desire for us is so ravenous we have to sometimes keep her chained and subdued for our own loins safety!”
There was yet more roars of perverted laughter, as the alcohol flowed, the men’s sensibilities and decorum seemed to further evaporate. Dominic and Rhonir had already drank too much and were passed out on the lavish lounger by the front window.
“I think we can all solve whose slave is the most gifted in the bedchambers, once and for all. Why don’t the three of our groups have a sharing party?!” Corin’s suggestion captured the interests of everyone still conscious.
“You mean, all ten of us?! Onto three slaves?!” Berin seemed hesitant at the numbers.
“Why not?! Farros did encourage us to share our toy’s afterall, didn’t he?!” Corin replied.
“True, But could the three of them handle the demands of all of us at once?! I don’t want to risk actually hurting them! I’m a lover, not a sadist!”
“They’ll be fine Berin! Farro’s told us that the stables have medical servitors that look after them, and it’s not like we could actually hurt them in any way without those shock chips!”
“What do you mean?!” Salek was curious now.
“I used to work with the slave guilds of Utica.” Corin continued. “Ymiri can lift up to three times their own bodyweight, and they can take a lot more damage than an actual descendant of terra. Without those chips on their necks and whatever was put in their brains that Farro’s told us about, they could probably tear us to shreds with their strength!” He took another gulp of his wine.”
There was more laughter from the group, but this time, it seems a little more nervous, more subdued.
“They…really could do that?!” Salek pressed.
“Indeed! They are of an engineered ancestry remember. The Terosians didn’t just make them look pretty! Though I suspect that was a side motivation of their design. They are no astartes by any stretch, but they could still arm wrestle a Migou and probably win!”
The groups drunken laughter erupted again, the alcohol soothing reservations, but what Corrin told them stuck in Saleks mind.
“So shall we?” Corrin asked again
“Shall we what?” Berin replied
“The share party you fool! Shall we arrange it say, tomorrow night, at our estate?” He looked over at the others.
“You know what?! Why not!” Berin replied “I’ve been wanting to try out one of those red haired ones!”
“…and I’ve wanted to explore those muscles on your Rustwalker Ber!” Corrin finished.
“You in Salek?” Berin turned to him “Want to give us all a try at the so called Ironbreaker?!”
Salek looked over at the men, he paused for a moment, Corrins words still echoing in his head.
“Sure Berin, were in! Tomorrow night at Corrins group manor! We and Chiana will be there!”
They clinked their chalices one last time, Salek was silent.
The three men slowly made their way back along the decorated pathway to their estate. Rhonir, Talonen and Fishig were all blind drunk, the brothers helping one another to walk while Tal was singing away in his own world.
Salek was in his own world as well, but it wasn’t a comfortable one.
What Corrin had told them about the Ymiri wouldn’t leave his head. About their strength and potential capabilities. Thinking back to the lott he suddenly realised just how tall the Ymiri women all were. It wasn’t a huge difference, but it was noticeable. None of the society stood level to them.
On the neighbouring path leading to the stables, he saw two of them, making there way to the place silently, the thin white day dresses they wore barely concealed their toned forms.
‘*They really are that strong…aren’t they!’* Salek thought to himself, a statement, more than a question.
For the first time since coming here, he started to realise just how dangerous these abhumans could potentially be, and that unlike the worlds the bloodlines controlled, the society had no xeno’s mercs to call upon if the Ymiri ever broke free of whatever restraints were on them.
They were alone, on a starship. With seventy four gene forged descended beings that could easily kill them all!
‘*Stop it! Don’t ruin this Sal!’* He tried to scold himself. ‘*Both Farro’s and the prince would not have pulled this all together without some kind of safeguard or plan for any loss of control, that would be utterly stupid! No, there is obviously some contingency on board somewhere in the event the restraints stop working!’*
Salek caught up with the others as they approached their estates entrance. One last thought on the matter going through his head.
‘*Of course there is!…right?!’*
Preparing for the Event.
“That’s it Zel, Flex those muscles tight! I want them drooling when we show you off at the start!”
Dominic watched as Berin gave Zeluni instructions through the translator mic, she responded, posing in various ways and showing off her toned body. She was dressed in that skimpy chain piece that the group loved her in.
When The three men of Dominic Estes group had received the Rustwalker, they were immediately enthralled by her shade of skin and tattoos as well as her muscular body. All of the Ymiri women were toned in a similar way, But Zeluni’s muscles were slightly more pronounced than the others. They weren’t covered in thick veins or bulging like a bodybuilders, they were smooth and seemed to flow together nicely. They strangely added to her femininity rather than detracted from it, and of course the sex was incredible.
“What are you doing Ber?!” He went over to the other man. “I thought we said we were giving her a rest for tonight!”
“We are! But I want to see that reprobate Corrins tongue hanging out when he sees her flexing.”
“Ahh!” Dominic folded his arms.”So it is a pissing contest then?!”
Berin smirked at him, he turned back to Zeluni, motioning her to lean one leg forward.
She followed the little bastards instructions, in the back of her mind she wanted to turn them all into a red mess on the floor. But her own brain betrayed her, keeping her docile. She tried to zone out, like she did when the group was taking her womanhood. But what this ‘Berin’ had told her about the event tomorrow night played upon her mind.
‘*Ten of them?! Could I really take that many in one night?!”*
The real Zeluni, shackled deep within her brain, was worried about it. But the woman that now had control of her body started to feel that betraying tingle between her legs.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/egy86j/the_violet_rose_society_part_4_nsfwwarhammer