Partners In Sex

BY : handcuffgirl
Category: Star Wars (All) > FemSlash - Female/Female
Dragon prints: 790
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, or any of the characters in this fic, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Authoress's notes: The following story is a sequel to Return to Trigalis. Lieutenant Stormie Kintra and Jedi Ta'tan'ia have been teamed up, after the Jedi Order and Imperial Security decide to have some of their people work together.

 

During their first encounter, on the Planet Trigalis, Stormie betrayed and kidnapped Ta'tan'ia, intending to deliver her to Admiral Daala. Admiral Daala's evil scientist wiped the betrayal and kidnapping from Ta'tan'ia's mind, made her trusting towards Lt. Kintra, and added in some minor body modifications with the aim of turning Ta'tan'ia into a more willing sex slave. Stormie hasn't told Ta'tan'ia any of this, of course, and doesn't plan to. Ta'tan'ia though, has settled into the familiar shackles of submission, and is enjoying herself, even if she is still a bit unsettled, for reasons she can't quite figure out.

 

Star Wars: Partners in Sex

 

Several days into Ta'tan'ia and Stormie Kintra's partnership...

 

Jedi Knight Ta'tan'ia strutted back into the cockpit in her fifteen centimeter plastex heels. Besides the heels, she was wearing a tight black tank top and short-shorts. Underneath the shorts, her beskar chastity belt was locked in place, as was her beskar collar, and her chrono and comlink cuffs, the latter three of which were all permanent. A nerfhide panel gag covered the lower half of her face, locked to her head harness.

 

She paused near the pilot's chair, and set Lieutenant Kintra's water in the cup holder. Then she stepped over to the co-pilot's seat, and carefully sat down, wincing a little as she did. Her ass still hurt from the cropping Stormie had given her a little bit ago. And the paddling a while before that.

 

They had been partners for about a week now—since that business on Trigalis with the Zoloz. Ta'tan'ia had quickly found herself going along with pretty much whatever Stormie wanted, at least when it didn't affect one of their missions. Like former Chief-of-State Daala, Lieutenant Kintra preferred her in bondage most of the time. Luckily Ta'tan'ia enjoyed being in bondage a lot as well. Stormie had mentioned getting some more restraints and stuff for her, but so far they hadn't had a chance to get much of anything.

 

Currently, they were on approach to Baros III, or more precisely, the space station orbiting Baros III. While they were refueling on the stop, they were really just taking a break from the ship for a few hours, before heading into the Empire for their first mission there. At the moment, Stormie was getting docking instructions from Baros space control.

 

“That what you're planning on wearing on the station?” Stormie asked, glancing over towards her with a smile.

 

Ta'tan'ia just gave her a knowing look in return. She knew she'd have plenty of time to change before they docked.

 

Once they'd received final instructions, and Stormie programmed the autopilot, they went back to her cabin to change.

 

After stripping off her tank top and short-shorts, Ta'tan'ia tapped the front of her chastity belt, and grunted questioningly towards Stormie.

 

“That's definitely staying on, Jedi,” she replied as she got dressed. “You gave me control of it for a week, and I'm keeping that purple pussy of yours locked up tight.”

 

Ta'tan'ia had expected that. She just smiled underneath her nerfhide gag, and picked up her bodysuit.

 

By the time they docked, Ta'tan'ia had changed into her armored black bodysuit, and wedge-heeled boots. Instead of her usual chest and thigh harnesses, she just had a nerfhide belt around her waist, with her lightsaber horizontal across the small of her back. Her gray cloak with three-quarter length sleeves went over the body suit, hiding her lightsaber. Underneath the bodysuit she was still wearing her beskar chastity belt. Her collar, chrono, and comlink cuffs were maglocked around her neck and wrists as well. She was also still gagged, but she didn't plan on wearing that on the station.

 

Stormie was wearing a lighter gray jumpsuit, with an assortment of pockets, and black nerfhide boots. Her durasteel comlink was maglocked around her left wrist. Neither of them would look out of place on a space station, other than Ta'tan'ia's beskar collar and wrist cuffs.

 

Just before they left Stormie's cabin, Ta'tan'ia grunted, and gestured for her to unlock her gag.

 

“You want a scarf or something to hide this,” Stormie said, reaching up and tugging on the gag. “I've got a black half-mask you can wear over it. No one will be able to tell. It'll just give you a more dangerous look.”

 

Ta'tan'ia grunted again, and shook her head.

 

“If you need to say anything, you can just message me, and I'll decide if it's important enough to be said,” Stormie explained with an evil smile.

 

Ta'tan'ia grunted yet again, and stamped her foot expectantly.

 

Stormie chuckled a moment, then tapped her comlink a couple of times.

 

Once Stormie had released the hidden maglocks, Ta'tan'ia quickly pulled the thick nerfhide panel gag away from her mouth. She tossed it on the desk, the dildo slick with her saliva.

 

“Clean that, and put it away,” Stormie told her, tapping her boot expectantly and gesturing towards the gag.

 

Ta'tan'ia stared back at her a few heartbeats, then obediently replied, “Yes Lieutenant,” as she stepped over and retrieved the cock gag.

 

“And hurry up, Jedi,” Stormie called as she left the cabin.

 

Ta'tan'ia caught up with her on the dock as she was confirming their refueling arrangements with a maintenance droid.

 

“I think we need to get you some clothes,” Stormie commented as they headed away from the ship. “You can't wear that bodysuit every time we go somewhere.”

 

“I don't,” Ta'tan'ia countered. Then she realized it was pretty much all she had that was suitable for wear in public. “I guess we can go pick up some things,” she admitted.

 

“Do they even let you Jedi wear regular clothes?” Stormie asked her as they entered the station's main promenade.

 

There were at least several dozen beings nearby, with hundreds more further down the promenade. Quite a few glanced towards them as they emerged from their docking slip, and most of those kept staring when they saw that they were both attractive women.

 

Ta'tan'ia pondered the question a moment. She had never really bought clothes. She had worn Jedi robes growing up, and then switched to the more fetishy versions of them right after Master Jaina had started wearing them—just before she took over as the Chief of State's Jedi liaison. Then Chief Daala had told her what to wear at pretty much all times, down to her chastity belt. Since then she mostly wore an armored bodysuit when she was on a mission, and a fetishy version of Jedi robes at the Temple. While she was in her room, she preferred a tank top or sports-bra with tight short-shorts and her plastex heels... and her collar and wrist cuffs, of course.

 

“Most of us wear Jedi Robes,” Ta'tan'ia explained diplomatically, ignoring the stares. “Or combat suits, when the situation dictates.” She quickly employed a Jedi technique to dispel some of the attention.

 

“And chastity belts,” Stormie added with a sly smile, reaching out and patting the front of Ta'tan'ia's bodysuit, just above her crotch.

 

“That's different,” the blushing Twi'lek answered, looking around in embarrassment.

 

Stormie chuckled, and said, “Well, I'm sure I can find something I'll like you in.” She scanned her eyes down her body, then added, “Something that goes with your collar.”

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Just as they found a store that catered to spacers, and looked to have a decent selection of clothes, an average looking man in his mid-thirties intercepted them.

 

He introduced himself as Officer Sindur of Baros Station Security, and took them to the Station's Security Force's second in command. Major Ralls told them that there was a ship docked at the station that they believed was smuggling for the Hutts, and asked for Ta'tan'ia's help as a Jedi. He explained that the planetary Governor and Station Commander weren't keen on the Jedi though, so Ta'tan'ia would need to ask them for assistance—at least officially.

 

The ship was docked while its hull was being repaired. After sensing hundreds of beings in intense fear on board the ship, Ta'tan'ia contacted Master Horn. To her surprise, he simply told her to put one of Lieutenant Kintra's tracking devices on the ship, and that the Galactic Alliance would intercept it later.

 

Major Ralls agreed that that was probably for the best, as he didn't want a battle near the station, and the security force was geared more towards customs enforcement than tactical ship entries. Lieutenant Kintra provided the tracking device, and then she and Ta'tan'ia disguised themselves as two of the repair techs working on the ship's hull in order to plant it.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Once that mission was complete, Major Ralls wanted to treat them to dinner. Stormie didn't want to, but Ta'tan'ia insisted, for politeness's sake. Ta'tan'ia suspected she'd be punished later.

 

The food at the restaurant Major Ralls chose was okay at best, and she could tell that Stormie didn't care for it, but Ta'tan'ia had never been picky about what she ate. Major Ralls wasn't much of a conversationalist though. Even when he'd first told them about the suspicious ship, he seemed... pompous. With no mission to plan, he was even more unlikable.

 

He also invited Officer Sindur along. When he'd first met them, he was a bit star-struck at meeting a Jedi. Now though he was only interested in alternating between hitting on Ta'tan'ia and Lieutenant Kintra. Neither of them were interested, although Stormie was more obvious about it. Ta'tan'ia was pretty sure she'd be punished once they got back to the ship.

 

“Fifty-two minutes,” Stormie commented in obvious annoyance once they'd left the restaurant.

 

Ta'tan'ia knew exactly what she was referring to, but pretended like she didn't hear her.

 

“We could have grabbed something at a quick-serve tapcafe, did our shopping, and be on the way back to my ship,” Stormie explained. “Instead we had to waste fifty-two minutes eating crappy food and listening to two assholes.”

 

“Sorry,” Ta'tan'ia replied contritely. She didn't think Officer Sindur was that bad. “At least it was free.”

 

Stormie flashed her a look of annoyance. Ta'tan'ia knew for sure she'd be punished.

 

They went back to store they'd found before being sidetracked. There was a bored looking human woman behind the counter, and another one near the back of the store working. The one behind the counter glanced up at them, flashed a bland smile, then looked back down at her datapad.

 

Instead of heading towards the clothes section, Stormie immediately took her to a a changing cubicle. Ta'tan'ia was more than a little curious when she stepped in with her.

 

“Strip, Jedi,” Stormie told her.

 

The first thing that popped into Ta'tan'ia's mind was that she was going to fuck her. Then she realized that there was no way Lieutenant Kintra would let herself get caught doing something like that in a public setting like this.

 

Ta'tan'ia smiled submissively as she took off her cloak, followed by her nerfhide belt. She handed both to Stormie, conscious of the fact that her lightsaber was attached to her belt. Then she began peeling off her armored bodysuit. That took a bit longer than the cloak, but she quickly handed it to Stormie as well. Ta'tan'ia sat on the bench, leaned down and reached towards her right boot, then glanced up questioningly.

 

Stormie gave her an impatient nod, and Ta'tan'ia took off her boots. She handed them to her, and timidly leaned back against the wall. She was naked except for her beskar collar, cuffs, and chastity belt, and her black nerfhide head harness.

 

“Now turn around and put your hands behind your back,” Stormie told her firmly, setting her clothes on the floor.

 

Ta'tan'ia hesitated. They were in a changing cubicle in a public store on a busy space station, and had just finished an operation with Station Security.

 

“Now, Jedi,” Stormie commanded her, taking hold of her left wrist and twisting it towards her back.

 

In spite of her misgivings, Ta'tan'ia relented, turned around, kneeling on the bench, and put her hands together at the small of her back. She felt something against the chrono and comlink cuffs, and heard the distinct sound of maglocks engaging. She tugged at her wrists, and confirmed that they were locked together. With a short rigid bar, she quickly deduced, turning around and looking up towards Stormie, her lekku wriggling submissively.

 

Stormie was smiling down at her triumphantly, with a hint of evil added in.

 

“Now I'm going to go pick you out some clothes, Jedi,” she began, running a pair of fingers lightly down her lips and chin. “You stay here, okay?”

 

“Bu—but what if someone sees me?” Ta'tan'ia asked tepidly.

 

Stormie's fingers were now tracing a line down her breast. “I guess you'll have to use that Force of yours to make sure that doesn't happen,” she answered, stopping at her nipple. “I'll be back in... about fifty-two minutes,” she declared with a laugh, squeezing her nipple.

 

Ta'tan'ia gasped, just as much in shock as from the nipple pinch. Before she could respond properly, Stormie had picked up her clothes and left, closing the door behind her. Ta'tan'ia was left sitting on a changing cubicle bench, cuffed, collared, chastity belted, and more than a little turned on. There was nothing but a cheap door, with a cheaper lock, between her and... whoever might be on the other side.

 

First Ta'tan'ia ran through a Jedi calming exercise. Then she realized that Stormie had taken her wedge-heeled boots. She had barely been able to stand up flat-footed the past week or so. Without her boots, she wouldn't even be able to run, if it came to that.

 

After a minute or so, Ta'tan'ia reached out with the Force, to sense if anyone was near by. Neither of the two clerks were near the changing rooms, and Stormie was on the far side of the store, near the counter, and first clerk. She could sense a few dozen or so beings just outside the store though, on the station's main promenade. After a half-minute or so, Ta'tna'ia felt Stormie leave the store. That startled her. She didn't think she would really leave her here for fifty-two minutes, but she hadn't expected her to leave her all alone naked and cuffed.

 

Ta'tan'ia ran through another Jedi calming exercise. Maybe she could comm her. With the rigid bar connecting her cuffs though, she couldn't get to her comlink's touchscreen. That meant she'd have to use the voice function, even though it might attract attention.

 

Luckily Ta'tan'ia was able to activate her comlink, and contact Stormie without anyone hearing her. Lieutenant Kintra though, didn't seem to want to talk to her. Her comlink went straight to voicemail. Ta'tan'ia left her a whispered message begging her to come back. A minute or so later, Ta'tan'ia's comlink chimed, seemingly at full volume. Startled, she quickly answered it, just to quiet the comm notification.

 

It was a voice message, from Stormie, laughing. Then she asked how loud the volume was on her comlink. Then she told her not to comm her again, unless it was an emergency.

 

Ta'tan'ia sighed in frustration. She trusted Stormie, at least as much as she felt like she could, she enjoyed bondage, and she had to admit this turned her on... but this was too risky. She ran through yet another Jedi calming technique, and concentrated on keeping attention off her anonymous changing cubicle.

 

Even though she was wearing her beskar chastity belt—and her pussy was technically covered—Ta'tan'ia sat with her knees in front of her, to try to hide as much as she could in case someone suddenly opened the door.

 

Some time later—Ta'tan'ia couldn't be sure exactly—she sensed Stormie approaching the store. While she was sure it hadn't been fifty-two minutes, it had been a lot longer than she felt comfortable being naked and cuffed in a changing cubicle. A minute later the changing cubicle door opened.

 

“Close the door!” Ta'tan'ia said after a few seconds.

 

“Oh, sorry,” Stormie replied with an innocent grin, closing the door while still standing outside.

 

Ta'tan'ia groaned in frustration. “Please give me my clothes back,” she asked. Now she realized that the small bag Stormie had didn't seem big enough for her armored bodysuit, cloak, and boots.

 

The door opened again. Still, Stormie made no effort to come in. Ta'an'ia didn't sense anyone close by though.

 

“Please give me my clothes back...?” Stormie prompted expectantly.

 

“Please give me my clothes back, Lieutenant,” Ta'tan'ia quickly corrected herself.

 

“Well, about that,” Stormie began, stepping into the cubicle. “I took them back to the ship.” She paused a heartbeat, closing the door behind herself. “I did bring you your shoes though.” As she spoke, she pulled out Ta'tan'ia's fifteen-centimeter clear plastex heels out of the bag.

 

Ta'tan'ia frowned at them a couple of seconds. “What about the rest of my clothes?”

 

Stormie grinned back at her. “I got you this,” she said, reaching into the bag again.

 

This time Stormie produced a wisp of pale orangeish cloth. She held it up, and Ta'tan'ia realized it was a dress.

 

“You expect me to wear that?” Ta'tan'ia asked after staring at it for a few moments.

 

Stormie lowered the dress, and locked eyes with her. “Of course, Jedi. It's just a dress.” She paused a second, then added, “I was going to leave you cuffed, and just put your coat over, but I decided I'd like to see you in this instead.”

 

Ta'tan'ia felt a jolt of arousal at the idea of walking through the space station with just her cloak hiding her chastity-belt and cuffed hands. The dress didn't look to cover very much though.

 

“This wasn't what I had in mind,” she commented. “I thought we were getting me some jumpsuits or something?”

 

“Those are on the ship too,” Stormie replied with a smug smile. “Now turn around so I can uncuff you, Jedi.”

 

While Ta'tan'ia still wasn't too sure about wearing the dress in public, she wanted her hands free. First she slid her feet into her plastex high heels. Then she stood up, and turned away from Lieutenant Kintra. A moment later she heard the familiar sound of maglocks disengaging, and felt Stormie pull the rigid bar off her chrono and comlink cuffs. Ta'tan'ia meekly turned around to face her, flexing her arms a bit to help her circulation.

 

“Now put this on, Jedi,” Stormie told her, holding the dress out towards her, and dropping the durasteel bar into one of her pockets.

 

Ta'tan'ia took the dress from her, and held it up a moment to get a better look. The dress was strapless, and looked like would come a bit past mid-thigh on her. The top part looked to be tighter, and stretchy, while the skirt was a bit looser. It was mostly a light orange color, with a pattern of white and light blue mixed in.

 

“Today, Jedi,” Stormie prompted her, reaching out and flicking her nipple.

 

Ta'tan'ia gasped in a mixture of surprise and pleasure, and pulled the dress down over her head. The top stretched enough to get over her tits, but was still tight enough to stay in place. She posed as she checked herself out in the mirror, with Stormie watching from behind her.

 

Just as she'd suspected, the bottom stopped well above her knees. Luckily it was loose enough so the outline of her chastity belt wasn't visible. The same couldn't be said for her collar and chrono and comlink cuffs. She was long used to wearing them in public, although not with this much skin showing.

 

The combination of the wispy dress and her clear platform heels was a long way from what she usually wore. She looked like... well, not like a Jedi. Still, she trusted Stormie enough to go along with what she'd chosen for her.

 

“Ready, sexy?” Stormie asked her, running her hand down her side. “Or should we cuff you again?”

 

“No,” Ta'tan'ia responded firmly, before realizing she wasn't serious. “I'm ready.”

 

Stormie opened the door, and gestured for Ta'tan'ia to exit the changing cubicle. As she stepped past her, Stormie reached under her dress and groped her ass. Ta'tan'ia merely flashed her a smile, and wriggled her lekku in appreciation. Even though she had sensed her intention through the Force, Ta'tan'ia didn't even consider trying to stop her. She just self-consciously pulled her dress back down. A few seconds later, they were out of the store, and on the station's main promenade.

 

Ta'tan'ia felt like everyone's eyes were locked on her as she strutted along the walkway. The only time she had shown this much skin around other people was at the gym, and that was mostly with Jedi, or friends. She found herself keeping her hands down at her side, making sure her the hem of her dress stayed in place.

 

A minute or so later, a question popped into Ta'tan'ia's head. “Hey, where's my lightsaber?” she asked quietly. Like any Jedi, she rarely went anywhere without it.

 

“It's on the ship, with the rest of your stuff,” Stormie replied with amusement.

 

Ta'tan'ia ran through another Jedi calming exercise. Most of the people on the promenade didn't have weapons. She was perfectly fine without her lightsaber. She had walked all around the Capital District on Coruscant without any weapons. Sure she was only wearing plastex heels and a chastity belt underneath a tiny dress that might blow away in a light breeze, but she was with Stormie. And she had the Force.

 

By the time they reached the ship, Ta'tan'ia was more than a little turned on from all the attention she was getting from various passers-by, and the fact that she was submitting in public, even if it wasn't immediately obvious to everyone else. Once the hatch was sealed behind them, Stormie pulled her tight, and gave her a forceful, open mouthed kissed. Then she grabbed her right wrist, and pulled her towards the cockpit.

 

“Strip, and kneel,” Stormie told her as she settled into the pilot's seat. “And fold that dress neatly, and lay it over the chair,” she added, waving her hand towards the co-pilot's seat.

 

Ta'tan'ia promptly pulled her new dress off, folded it, and laid it in the in the seat, like she'd been told. Then she knelt on the deck, with her wrists crossed behind her back. Her knees were spread, with her heels together, and her ass resting on them. Stormie was busy arranging for their departure.

 

Baros space control gave them a five minute wait before they could launch. Stormie acknowledged, and turned to face her submissive Jedi.

 

“That's just enough time to get you secured,” she told her, standing up. She glanced over, then picked up Ta'tan'ia's new dress. “You won't be needing this for a while,” she asserted, stepping past her towards the rest of the ship. “And stay.”

 

By the sound of her movements, she was in her cabin, Ta'tan'ia decided. She kept her eyes forward, and down, and waited, silently. A couple of minutes later, Ta'tan'ia sensed her returning.

 

“Stand up,” Stormie instructed her, tapping her ass with her boot.

 

Ta'tan'ia quickly scrambled to her feet. Then she felt her fingers underneath the vertical band on the back of her chastity belt. Stormie pulled, and Ta'tan'ia obediently took a couple of steps backwards, stopping even with the cabin's hatchway, still facing towards the front of the cockpit. Stormie was behind her, in the corridor.

 

Next Ta'tan'ia felt her hands on her right wrist, and heard a maglock attaching to her comlink cuff. A moment later she felt her doing the same to her chrono on her left wrist. She glanced down to see about a forty centimeter long chain hanging from her comlink, with a small maglock on the end. A matching chain was attached to her chrono.

 

“I want the other end of each of those chains maglocked to the bulkhead,” Stormie instructed her. “High enough to leave you on your tip toes.”

 

“Yes Lieutenant,” Ta'tan'ia answered, plotting exactly where to aim.

 

A few heartbeats later, Ta'tan'ia leapt a decimeter or so, stretching her arms upwards. As she did, she used the Force to guide the free ends of the chains, and maglocked each one to the opposite sides of the entryway. She landed on her platform heels, with her arms pulled straight up and out, but not quite taut.

 

“Not bad, Jedi,” Stormie commented from behind her, giving her a light spank on her ass. “Now spread your feet apart.”

 

That would put more of her weight on her cuffs. Still, Ta'tan'ia obeyed, and moved her feet to about shoulder width apart. Then she felt Stormie nudge her right foot further out with her boot. That put a little more pressure on her wrist cuffs. A few seconds later, she felt a durasteel shackle close around her right ankle.

 

Stormie pulled it a few more centimeters out, and Ta'tan'ia heard her maglock the chain to the entryway. Next Stormie repeated the process with her left ankle, leaving her chained to opposite sides of the entryway bulkhead.

 

Even with her fifteen-centimeter heels, Ta'tan'ia had to strain to stay on her toes, to keep most of her weight off her cuffed wrists. It was a difficult position to maintain.

 

“Fifty-two minutes,” Stormie said into her ear, pressing against her back, and stroking one hand down her side. “So I think I'll give you fifty-two lashes,” she explained.

 

As she spoke, Ta'tan'ia felt her crop tapping against her ass. She knew from experience how much her crop hurt. Fifty-two lashes was a lot.

 

“Yes Lieutenant,” she answered obediently, taking a deep breath.

 

“Make sure you keep count, Jedi,” Stormie told her, still swatting her ass with the crop.

 

“Yes Lieutenant,” she replied promptly.

 

A few swats later, Ta'tan'ia winced in pain from a significantly harder blow.

 

“One, Lieutenant,” she announced, assuming the lighter hits didn't count.

 

There was a slight pause, and Ta'tan'ia sensed another hard strike. She winced again, and gave Stormie the count. With the Force, Ta'tan'ia could both minimize her pain, and sense the blows. She could probably even turn off the maglocks securing her to the bulkhead if she really had too. Instead, she counted every lick Lieutenant Kintra gave her for the arbitrary offense of wasting her time at dinner.

 

Her winces soon turned to yelps of pain as Stormie systematically cropped her entire ass, and upper thighs. She strained to maintain her balance on the toes of her high heels while she endured her punishment. She felt her pussy getting wetter by the stroke as she pulled against her restraints.

 

Suddenly there was an alert notification from the cockpit.

 

“Oops, I guess we'll have to take a break,” Stormie announced cheerfully, squeezing past Ta'tan'ia into the cockpit.

 

She settled into the pilot's chair, and acknowledged the alert. It was time for them to depart. They were only at thirty-six licks. As Ta'tan'ia suspected, the break didn't include freeing her. She stayed chained to the entryway, straining to keep her weight balanced between the front edges of her high heels and her cuffed wrists.

 

Ta'tan'ia watched Stormie pull the ship back from the docking slip, turn, and head away from the station. A few minutes later, they seemed to be clear of nearby traffic. Stormie programmed the computer to plot a hyperspace jump. Then without saying a word, she picked her crop up off the console, and turned her chair to face Ta'tan'ia. She stood up, took a step towards her, and brought her crop down against the left side of her ribcage—hard.

 

“Thirty-seven, Lieutenant,” Ta'tan'ia advised her, wincing in pain from the blow.

 

“I thought it was twenty-seven,” Stormie replied with a frown, pressing the tip of her crop up to her chin thoughtfully.

 

Ta'tan'ia considered how to respond for a heartbeat. She knew she'd been cropped thirty-seven times, but if Stormie wanted it to be only twenty-seven, then it would be.

 

“Thirty-seven, Lieutenant,” Ta'tan'ia repeated respectfully, sensing that Stormie was just testing her.

 

“Well, let's add five, for disagreeing with me,” Stormie commented with a cheerful smile.

 

“Yes Lieutenant,” Ta'tan'ia answered, with a flush of arousal. “Thirty-eight, Lieutenant!” she declared as the crop struck just below her belly button, right above the waistband of her chastity belt.

 

A minute or so—and eight strokes—later Stormie had to stop to adjust the course again. Once she did, she returned to cropping Ta'tan'ia. At lick number fifty-one, she stopped long enough to engage the hyperdrive. Finally, they got to number fifty-seven. Ta'tan'ia knew she had welts all over her front and back. Her arms and calves hurt from being restrained like she was for so long, on top of the pain from the cropping Lieutenant Kintra had given her. She was also as horny as a kybuck.

 

Stormie walked up to her, their faces just centimeters apart.

 

“Now, Jedi, we're going to go back to my cabin, and you're going to put that Twi'lek tongue of yours to use,” she informed her, freely wrapping her arms around her naked and glistening body.

 

“Yes Lieutenant,” Ta'tan'ia answered breathlessly. Stormie's hands moved from her tits, to her chastity belted pussy, to her ass and in between seemingly all at once.

 

“And you're going to keep it busy for—” she paused dramatically, then added—“fifty-two minutes,” reaching up and tugging her collar.

 

“Yes Lieutenant!” Ta'tan'ia replied eagerly.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

A week later...

 

Ta'tan'ia and Stormie had just finished their second mission for the Empire. This one had been pretty straightforward. Locate a group of criminals who were hiding out in Imperial space, then flying to nearby Galactic Alliance worlds to steal basically anything they could haul away. With the Force, that wasn't difficult. After they found them, a combined Imperial Security and Naval Assault team conducted the raid, and made the arrests. Stormie had even complained that the planetary governor should have done it months ago.

 

The first mission had been a bit more complicated. A local Prefect suspected one of his Deputy Prefects was stealing credits from Government accounts. There was even an electronic trail implicating him. He denied everything of course. Ta'tan'ia sensed he was telling the truth, so they began interrogating others. When they talked to one of the Prefect's aides, Ta'tan'ia sensed that he was lying about something. He had in fact been using the credits to pay for several expensive vacations over the past year or so.

 

Since they were in the Empire, Ta'tan'ia found it easier to just follow Stormie's lead most of the time. While they were on the ship, Stormie had kept her gagged and shackled pretty much all the time, and even stopped letting her wear clothes. Ta'tan'ia didn't count her beskar chastity belt and restraints, or her high heels; she was nearly as used to them as she was her permanent beskar collar and wrist cuffs.

 

Now they were landing at an Imperial base, to get a different ship. Stormie had explained that the one they had been using was designed for a larger crew, four or five people, so Imperial Security wanted it back. They were providing them with a smaller ship, since it was just the two of them. As they would be around other Imperials, Stormie had let her put on her armored bodysuit, along with her wedge-heeled boots. Underneath she was still wearing her beskar chastity belt. She had given Stormie control of it for another two weeks after the first week ended.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Stormie stepped off her ship—well, the ship she had been using the past few weeks—and onto the duracrete landing zone. A sharp-looking Army Lieutenant was waiting for her a half-dozen or so meters away, along with an enlisted soldier with a repulsor cart.

 

“Lieutenant Kintra, I presume?” the Lieutenant greeted her with a polite nod, stepping towards them. “And Jedi Ta'tan'ia,” he added, nodding towards her as well.

 

Stormie nodded her head in reply, while Ta'tan'ia responded with a “Yes.”

 

“I'm Lieutenant Rippon,” he continued. “I'm here to escort you to your new ship.”

 

Stormie paused, and pointedly looked around the landing zone, eyeing what was most likely her new ship. “Well, lead the way, Lieutenant Rippon,” she finally said with a half-fake smile, setting her bag on the repulsor cart. Ta'tan'ia was carrying her own stuff in one bag, along with the rest of Stormie's in another. She put them on the cart, and they were on their way.

 

Just as Stormie had suspected, they headed for the small armed skiff she'd spotted a few hundred meters away. It was maybe two-thirds or so of the size of the one she had been using, that she'd taken to arrest that schutta Tahiri Veila. This one looked to be better armed, and newer, no more than a few years old. She was sure it would prove more than sufficient for her purposes.

 

“Were the modifications I ordered completed?” Stormie asked as they walked. Her eyes stayed moving around the landing zone, looking for anything... interesting. She could hear the rhythmic tapping of Ta'tan'ia's stiletto heels on the duracrete just behind her.

 

“Um, I don't know anything about that, Lieutenant,” Lieutenant Rippon replied delicately. “One of your techs delivered the ship late last night. We only refueled it for you. He is still on board though, I believe.”

 

“Oh, okay,” she answered, still taking in her surroundings.

 

Stormie hadn't really expected Imperial Security to allow the Army to anything much past refueling or making emergency repairs to one of their ships, but it didn't hurt to ask. She would have been surprised if he had even known that she was making modifications to it.

 

As they approached her new ship, Stormie estimated it to be about twenty-two or twenty-three meters long, and a little less than fifteen wide—although it was harder to tell the width from her angle—with a single deck. It was dark gray and black, with a discrete blaster cannon port along the side fore, and an engine thruster aft. She wasn't sure of the exact model, but it looked fast and maneuverable.

 

“I think we can find our way from here,” Stormie told him, as they as they arrived at the ship's hatch. She picked up her bag off the cart, and Ta'tan'ia grabbed the other two.

 

“Of course, Lieutenant Kintra, Jedi Ta'tan'ia,” he replied, nodding politely to each of them before turning and walking away, the private following him with the repulsor cart.

 

Stormie watched them a a few moments, until they were several meters away. Then she tapped her wrist comlink a couple of times, letting the tech know they were ready to board. As the hatch began to open, she flashed Ta'tan'ia a smile, then stepped up onto her new ship.

 

The Imperial Security Technician was waiting for them a few steps inside the corridor. He was short, and skinny, but still had a noticeable gut underneath his gray jumpsuit.

 

“Harold Cason,” he introduced himself with a friendly wave.

 

“Lieutenant Kintra,” Stormie responded with nod and bland smile as the hatchway closed behind them. Then she turned to Ta'tan'ia. “Hey, go run a complete diagnostic for us,” she told her with friendly smile, gesturing towards the cockpit. “I'll be up in a few minutes.”

 

“Sure,” the Twi'lek agreed with a nod.

 

Stormie watched her walk away, her eyes lingering on her sexy ass a few seconds. Then she quickly looked back, and just as she'd suspected, caught the tech checking her out as well. Stormie raised her eyebrows, and cleared her throat pointedly, causing him to look away guiltily. She didn't really care if he stared at Ta'tan'ia's ass, but pretending that she did helped put him off balance.

 

“So, Mister Cason, show me the modifications you made to my ship for me,” Stormie told him, walking away from the cockpit.

 

“Of course, Lieutenant,” he answered turning to walk with her as she passed him. “There are holocams throughout the ship, just like your ordered,” he informed her, glancing at his datapad as they walked in the ship's main corridor. “Including enhanced definition ones in the interrogation room, and main cabin.”

 

“Excellent,” Stormie replied cheerfully, stopping and turning more towards him. He unconsciously stopped and turned towards her as well. “Now, will any of the holocams transmit off this ship at all?” she probed.

 

“No Ma'am,” he replied promptly. “I set them up to record to a secure partition of the ship's computer, and nowhere else.”

 

Stormie nodded her head thoughtfully, and slowly took a step forward, causing him to take a half-step backwards, stopping short against the bulkhead.

 

“Are you one-hundred-percent sure?” she asked. “No recording will get off this ship unless I do it?”

 

“Absolutely, Lieutenant,” he responded.

 

She paused a moment, staring into his eyes. “Do you know who I am?”

 

While she primarily meant her reputation as an Imperial Security Officer, if he knew that she was the grand-daughter of Grand Moff Tarkin, that would be fine too.

 

“Ye—yes, Lieutenant,” he replied nervously, sensing how serious the conversation was becoming.

 

“If any recording from this ship get out, I'm going to find you, and kill you. Do you understand?” she calmly informed him, taking another half-step towards him, their faces barely ten centimeters apart.

 

“Wha—t, um, Yes, Lieutenant,” he responded, obviously scared.

 

Suddenly Stormie relaxed her expression and posture. “Look, you're just doing your job,” she began. “Now if some of our superiors ordered you to set up a secret transmitter or something, then I understand.” She paused a heartbeat, then said, “Just let me know, and I'll take care of it.”

 

“Um... no, Lieutenant,” he replied, “Nothing like that.”

 

“Are you sure?” she asked. “You've got to be sure about this. No one has added anything into my holocam system without me knowing about it?”

 

“No Lieutenant,” he answered, more sure of himself.

 

“Great,” Stormie replied, suddenly smiling, and taking a step back. In a flash she was serious again. “Because if a single image from my ship gets out without me authorizing it, I will find you, and I will kill you.” She smiled at him again, and added, “Understand?” straightening up the front of his jumpsuit.

 

“Ye—yes Lieutenant,” he answered frightenedly.

 

“Great. Now show me around the rest of my ship,” she said cheerfully.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

“How's things going up here, Jedi?” Stormie asked as she stepped into the cockpit. She came to a stop over her left shoulder.

 

“Diagnostics are complete, and all green, Lieutenant,” Ta'tan'ia replied. “And pre-flight is complete. We can request launch at your convenience.”

 

Stormie ran her hand across Ta'tan'ia's shoulders, then adjusted her collar a bit. “We're going to wait until the tech is ready to take off. He's flying our old ship back.”

 

“Okay,” Ta'tan'ia responded, looking up at her.

 

“That should be just about enough time for you to strip,” Stormie told her, reaching up, grabbing the strap of her head harness, and tilting her head back. She held her there a few heartbeats, and leaned down and gave her a slow, open-mouthed kiss.

 

Stormie held her head back for a second after she released her from the kiss, smiling down at her. She finally let her go, and nudged her head forward. Ta'tan'ia got up, and slipped past her towards the rear of the ship. Stormie watched her leave, then sat down in the pilot's seat, and began double checking the ship's status.

 

As she looked over the readouts, Stormie's thoughts drifted a bit. While she had didn't really consider herself a lesbian, she had had sex with more than a few women back in the Empire. Ta'tan'ia was her first Twi'lek, of either sex, though. She was surprised at how much she liked being with the Jedi. Although she did switch, she had always had a bit of a dominant streak, and Ta'tan'ia's submissiveness definitely turned her on.

 

She wondered if things would have worked out so well without Admiral Daala's doctor doing whatever she'd done to Ta'tan'ia's mind. Then she frowned. While it was necessary for the mission, she felt bad about that now, and hoped it wouldn't come back to mess things up with her Jedi. Ta'tan'ia was starting to wonder—mostly to herself—why she couldn't stand without wearing high heels. There was also the question of what the Jedi doctors would say if they examined her. She'd definitely have to ask Admiral Daala about that.

 

A couple of minutes later, Ta'tan'ia returned to the cockpit, naked except for her head harness, collar, cuffs, chastity belt, ankle shackles, and plastex heels. She paused next to the pilot's chair. Stormie had every intention of making that her standard ship uniform from now on. With a gag, at least sometimes.

 

“Much better, Jedi,” Stormie commented as she admired the mostly naked Twi'lek. “And you're wearing your ankle shackles,” she added, her eyes trailing down her legs.

 

“Yes Lieutenant,” Ta'tan'ia answered obediently.

 

“They look great,” she told her, looking back up into her eyes. “As do you.”

 

“Thank you,” Ta'tan'ia replied with a meek smile.

 

“What took you so long changing, though?”

 

“I had to reply to a message from Master Horn, Lieutenant,” Ta'tan'ia answered after a brief hesitation.

 

When Stormie had kidnapped Ta'tan'ia back on Trigalis, she had sliced a monitoring and tracking program into her comlink. While it had been useful at the time, Stormie did feel a little bad about having spied on her. When Ta'tan'ia had updated her security a few days afterwards, Stormie hadn't tried to stop her. Now though, Stormie suspected that Ta'tan'ia would tell her who she had talked to, and pretty much about what, if she told her to tell her.

 

“Well don't take so long, next time,” she told her.

 

“I won't, Lieutenant,” Ta'tan'ia responded.

 

“Have a seat,” Stormie instructed her, gesturing towards the co-pilot's chair. “I'll punish you later.”

 

“Yes Lieutenant,” she said, sitting down. She immediately began tapping on her comlink maglocked around her wrist.

 

“What are you doing now?”

 

“Replying to a few other messages,” Ta'tan'ia answered, glancing over towards her questioningly.

 

“From who?”

 

Ta'tan'ia hesitated a heartbeat before answering. “Syal Antillies, Jysella Horn and Turi Altimuk.”

 

Stormie nodded her head thoughtfully, wondering if she should probe further.

 

“Tell them I said hi,” she finally told her.

 

“Yes Lieutenant,” Ta'tan'ia answered, flashing a grin.

 

Once they departed in their new ship, and Tech Cason in their old one, Stormie and Ta'tan'ia headed back to Galactic Alliance space for their next mission. This one was going to involve some search-and-rescue work on a small colony that had been caught in a tropical storm. Before they entered hyperspace though, Stormie sent Admiral Daala a message saying that she was ready for the specialized restraints for Ta'tan'ia she had mentioned she had. She sent Ta'tan'ia aft before sending the message, of course.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Twelve hours or so later, between jumps to the small Outer-Rim colony...

 

Once the ship exited hyperspace, Stormie checked her comm system, and found a priority message from Colonel Drasi, instructing her to contact him immediately.

 

“Colonel Drasi,” Stormie greeted him with a nod once his image appeared.

 

“Lieutenant Kintra,” he replied curtly. “Are you alone?”

 

Stormie glanced at another monitor, which showed Ta'tan'ia gamorean-cuffed on the deck of the interrogation room. She had been like that for about an hour or so.

 

“Yes Sir,” she answered.

 

“Imperial Security Technician Cason has filed a formal complaint against you stating that you threatened to kill him.”

 

Stormie considered that a few heartbeats. “Did he say why I would do that?” she probed.

 

Colonel Drasi stared back at her several seconds. “So you did threaten to kill him?”

 

“Yes Sir,” Stormie admitted after a brief pause. “Did he say why I did it though?”

 

“It doesn't matter, Lieutenant,” he responded, emphasizing her rank. “You cannot threaten Imperial personnel. I don't care who your grandfather was.”

 

Stormie supposed she could see his point-of-view. “I'm very sorry, Colonel,” she apologized. “But I would like to know if he said why I threatened him.”

 

Colonel Drasi appraised her a few moments. “No. He didn't,” he finally answered, glancing down at a datapad on his desk. “So why did you?”

 

“I would really rather not say, Sir,” Stormie told him apologetically. “It was a private matter.”

 

Colonel Drasi frowned at her. “Tell me, Lieutenant,” he instructed her.

 

Stormie sighed. “I had him install holocams on my ship. Then I told him that I'd kill him if any recordings got out.”

 

Colonel Drasi's frown turned into more of a scowl. “Holocams?” he asked. “Oh, the Jedi,” he quickly guessed. “We're not interested in your sex games with Jedi Ta'tan'ia,” he informed her dismissively. “As long as it doesn't interfere with your work, Lieutenant.”

 

Stormie smiled back at him. “Thank you Sir,” she answered. “Still, I don't want anyone watching me either, Sir.”

 

“Of course not,” Colonel Drasi replied succinctly. “Still. Do not threaten Imperial personnel again. At least not without a good reason.”

 

Stormie thought the reason she'd threatened to kill Cason was perfectly valid. It wasn't like she just went around threatening to kill people at random or anything.

 

“I won't, Sir,” she assured him.

 

“Since you've put in holocams to record your fun, I assume things are going well with Ta'tan'ia?” he asked, his mood suddenly much lighter.

 

“Yes Sir,” she responded with a nod. “We're getting along great,” she explained, smiling.

 

“Director Abbrums has decided that I'm to get a Jedi as well,” Colonel Drasi told her bleakly. “In spite of my stringent protests.”

 

Stormie did her best not to grin at his obvious discomfort with the idea. She would have felt the same way if she hadn't gotten to know Ta'tan'ia before hand.

 

“Well, good luck with that, Colonel,” she responded carefully.

 

“And you can go frakk yourself,” he replied with an annoyed grin. “Drasi out.”

 

Stormie smiled to herself as she shut down the link. She programmed the final jump to their destination, and once they were back in hyperspace, she headed aft, to free Ta'tan'ia from her bondage. . . at least this specific bondage.

 

The bondage Ta'tan'ia was in was a bit different than a regular Gamorean-shackling. Instead of her wrists being cuffed to her ankles, they were cuffed to the sides of the waist-band of her chastity-belt. Her elbows were cuffed tightly together. Her ankles were chained tightly to her elbow cuffs as well. Stormie had even run a chain from her head harness back to her elbow cuffs, pulling her head back. She had also strapped a ring gag into her mouth, with a black nerfhide panel gag over the lower half of her face. Oh, and there were the vibrators in her pussy and ass, both secured in place with her chastity belt.

 

As Stormie stared down at her for a few seconds, she decided not to free her. At least not immediately. She just looked too sexy; naked, sweating, and straining against her bondage.

 

“How you doing down there, Jedi?” she asked, tapping her boot on the deck in front of her.

 

Ta'tan'ia merely wriggled her lekku, and grunted pleadingly as she stretched as much as she could to look up at her. That wasn't much, with the chains pulling her up by both her elbows and head harness. The Twi'lek's permanent beskar collar was still maglocked around her neck, of course.

 

“You want me to free you?”

 

Ta'tan'ia grunted again, and nodded her head slightly.

 

“Sorry, I didn't hear that,” Stormie responded with a grin, squatting down and unbuckling the panel gag.

 

Ta'tan'ia took a deep breath, and grunted something slightly less incoherent.

 

Stormie pointedly looked around the cabin, while gently stroking her head and the bases of her lekku. Then she took a few long moments to examine her bondage again, reaching back and tugging on the chain connecting her head harness to her elbow cuffs.

 

“I suppose I can do that,” she commented with feigned reluctance.

 

Then she calmly picked up a datapad off a nearby shelf, and tapped a few commands into it. First the maglocks connecting Ta'tan'ia's head harness to her elbow cuffs released. Stormie took the chain, and tossed it onto the shelf, along with the datapad. Then she stood up and began unfastening her jumpsuit.

 

Ta'tan'ia grunted again, looking up at her.

 

“I unlocked your head harness,” Stormie explained. “Now it's time for you to put that talented tongue of yours to work,” she said as she stripped, and tossed her jumpsuit on the deck by the bulkhead, quickly followed by her boots, undershirt, and panties. Then she sat down on the deck, straddling her Jedi's head, her pussy barely centimeters from her face.

 

Ta'tan'ia stretched her tongue out through the ring gag, and into her wet pussy. Stormie was certainly getting used to her Twi'lek pleasuring her, and she could tell she enjoyed being shackled and licking her pussy as well. Stormie tapped her comlink, and upped the vibrators in Ta'tan'ia's pussy and ass a couple of levels. It was the least she could do for her.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ THE END ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

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