The Sinking of the Cerulean Bliss | By : Meowshi Category: Star Wars (All) > General Views: 2469 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, the locations, nor the characters. They are the property of Disney. I do not make money from writing this story. This work is of pure fiction. |
As soon as I stepped off the turbolift and onto the upper floor of the pleasure barge, my ears were assaulted with the filthy sounds of sex.
If the public-facing cantinas and dance clubs of the Cerulean Bliss were where smugglers and spice dealers came to whet their normal appetites, then the private rooms were where they skulked off to engage in their darker desires. Low, throaty groans punctuated with the sound of slapping meat and muffled, wild moans echo through the dingy corridor. It is a chorus of haunting sounds that cause me to screw up my aquamarine face in revulsion. As a Twi’lek, I am naturally no prude when it came to carnality, but these were not the sounds of passionate lovemaking between romantic partners. This was was sound of pleasure-slaves being bought and used like objects by the worst scum the galaxy had to offer. The Crimson Dawn. The Corellian Exchange. The Hutt Cartels. They all had private rooms on the barge where they bought and sold people like commodities at a scrapyard. It was sickening. Perverse. I whisper a silent prayer, reminding myself to keep my breathing steady and to maintain my composure.
I arrive at my destination and go to knock on the door, trying to mask my sour mood with a look of friendly neutrality. But the violent, wet sound of rough sex was audible from just beyond the door, and my hand paused in surprise. Unfortunately, the gangsters have a lookout and the door swings open anyway, revealing an enormous Wookiee with a wild, tangled mane of red-brown fur around its bestial face. I feel my heart stop in my chest and I recoil in surprise, never having seen such a massive sentient before. The creature snarls at me for several seconds before noticing the tray of drinks in my hands, and then it grabs me by the slave collar and pulls me into the room as though I were nothing more than a wheeled cart.
As I nervously look around the lavish room, my eyes widen with surprise. The source of the lewd moaning sounds was revealed to be a naked, orange-toned Togruta woman, who was currently lying on her back on top of a Dejarik gaming table. A thin, pale man was grunting as he vigorously thrust inside of her. His bald head was slick with sweat and he had several gruesome-looking facial cybernetics. The room was filled with twelve or so other Black Sun agents, most of them Falleen, and many of them in various states of undress. My heartbeat quickens with fear; I have never seen an erection before, and now I was being confronted with several of them! I suddenly felt surrounded. Trapped.
A little girl lost in a sea of threatening-looking meat poles.
“Uugh! Auugh! Nng! Ahn!” the Togruta woman cried out as her tired, saffron-yellow eyes briefly met mine and then darted away in shame.
One of the Falleen gangsters saunters over to me and grabs a cup from my tray, greedily downing the Mandalorian ale in one gulp.
“By the Sith! I love this stuff!” the olive-skinned Falleen said with a heavy blech, rubbing his stomach appreciatively. The man’s ridged skull was covered in gang tattoos, including a large black sun imprinted on his forehead. He was also naked, and despite the terrifying situation, I found myself surveying his body curiously.
The Falleen were a fascinating species to me. As a synapsid species, they had both mammalian and reptilian characteristics. The one in front of me had a long, healthy head of hair and his naked body was glistening with sweat, two traits not typical of most reptilian aliens. But his non-mammalian ancestry was also evident, because instead of a regular phallus, he had two thorny hemipenes emerging from his waist. The heat rose to my cheeks as the large pink organs throbbed in tandem, drooling with pre-ejaculate.
“I-I’ll just hand out these drinks,” I manage to stutter nervously and excuse myself from the man’s presence. The Falleen man shrugs and walks back over to the Togruta woman, silencing her lamentations by shoving his lower hemipenis inside of her mouth with a wet squelching sound. As he does this, he also begins stroking his upper hemipenis with his clawed fist, intending to paint the woman’s face with his sticky essence.
As I serve the criminals their drinks, my eyes dart around the room searching for my target. It doesn't take me long to spot the cache lying in the corner of the room. I barely manage to hide the smile on my face as I notice that the cache is completely unguarded, but the smile quickly fades as another problem presents itself.
In the back of the room sat a Rodian woman who wasn't getting up to grab a drink. Her swampy-green skin was covered in Black Sun iconography, like the rest of the gangsters, and she was staring at me with her bulbous, pupilless eyes. I couldn't help but feel like there was something predatory in that look, and every instinct I had was telling me that the woman was trouble.
I ignored those instincts though, figuring that the Rodian might just be lazy. I directly approach the woman with a cup, offering it to her with a hopeful smile.
“None for me, beautiful,” the Rodian trills in Huttesse, waving her strange alien hands in dismissal.
“You try? Please? It…good…,” I respond back to her in broken Huttesse. The language sounds remarkably harsh and terrible in my ear, but slaves were expected to speak it fluently, as the Hutt clans were perhaps the greatest sentient traffickers in the known galaxy.
“I’m sure it is, but I don’t touch the stuff,” the Rodian responds with a creepy smile, “I like to keep my wits about me and relax in other ways.”
I didn’t at all like the way the Rodian looked me up and down when she said that last thing, but I relent and move on to hand out the rest of the drinks. It didn’t take long for the sleeping tonic I had mixed into the cups to take effect. The Falleen were the first to fall asleep, their reptomammialian physiology being particularly susceptible to sedatives. Soon the pale man with the ugly cybernetics, the giant Wookiee, and even the Togruta pleasure-slave dozed off into unconsciousness after taking a few sips of the drugged ale. Unfortunately, the Rodian woman hadn't drunk anything.
The woman gazes upon her unconscious comrades with a look of bewildered amusement on her alien face, as I frantically try to think of an idea to distract or get rid of her. Before I can think of a workable solution though, the Rodian pushes herself off the wall and struts towards me. She walked with the confidence of a carnivore circling its prey, and I am suddenly reminded that Rodians were descended from the apex predators of the jungle planet.
“This is why I do not drink, pretty one” the Rodian whispers as she pushes me up against the wall, “They are so eager to partake but cannot even handle weak human beer. Pathetic!”
'Of course I would run into the one sober criminal in all of the Outer Rim!', the girl thought miserably, silently cursing her bad luck.
The Rodian woman's hand stretched out to caress the side of my face. She runs one of her bulbous fingers along the length of one of my head-tails, causing me to squirm as my lower body becomes hot with arousal, unable to resist the sensation that her fingers bring. I shudder as waves of pleasure shoot through my entire body. It's not my fault. A Twi'lek's lekku are extremely sensitive, even the barest touch could make us lose all bodily control.
“Ma'am, stop! I-I’m just a serving-girl, you’re not allowed to t-touch...” I try to plead with the woman, even as my body shivers beneath her touch.
“I was under the impression that anything was allowed in the private rooms” the Rodian corrects me with a smug look, “If we damage the barge’s property, we simply must pay a fine, correct?”
A fine?! I recoil at the thought of my virginity being dismissed so frivolously. I instinctfully clasp my legs together in fright. Although I knew a hundred different ways to get the Rodian woman off of me, I was so terrified that my mind was blanking.
The Rodian dipped one of her long, suction-cup fingers down the front of my underwear, pressing the bulbous digit against my entrance. The Rodian's skin had a rough, pebbly texture that send waves of panic jetting up my spine.
“The Cerulean Bliss must be named after you and your pretty blue skin, no?” the Rodian teased me while poking the rounded nub at the apex of my immature sex. The sensation is horrifically pleasing.
“P-please stop...” I hiss so quietly that I wasn't even sure it was audible. In any case, the Rodian didn't seem to care.
“Tell me how much you want it, cheeka,” the Rodian warbles seductively in her strange alien accent and then brings her pointed ears down to my quivering lips. “Let me hear you beg for it.”
I saw red. In a panicked rage, I bit down on the woman's ear and shot my knee up into her crotch as hard as I could. The Rodian gangster hooted painfully through her snout and doubled over, clasping both of her hands over her throbbing genitals.
“E chu ta!” the woman swears at me and began reaching for the blaster on her hip. Before the Rodian could draw her weapon, I seized the sharp, pink bristles on the top of her head and then shoves her face-first into the nearest object in the room—a flashing computer terminal in the corner. The terminal's monitor explodes in a shower of brilliant sparks, and the Rodian woman crumples to the ground, knocked out cold.
“Well, that’s one way to do it…” I manage to squeak out, struggling to catch my breath.
But my eyes widen in horror as the Rodian's forehead splits open, spewing forth a thick stream of sickly green blood. The smell of the goop was rich and earthy, and the viscous liquid ran down her face in thick rivulets, pooling beneath her head like a lake of toxic sludge.
No! I had simply meant to incapacitate her, not seriously injure her!
I crouch low, waving my hand over the nasty-looking laceration on the woman’s head. The wound slowly stops bleeding as her skin begins to knit itself back together without even forming a scar. Soon, there is no indication that the Rodian gangster had ever even been injured, other than the sticky puddle of lime-green blood lying beneath her head.
I fall back against the wall, releasing a heavy sigh of relief. I knew that Master Ebonvar would be so disappointed if he found out that I had lost my temper again and injured someone. Twi’leks tended to run hot, and not just in terms of body temperature. We are an impulsive and passionate people who did not often make for suitable Jedi even if we were born force-sensitive. I still had a lot to prove if I wanted to rise through the ranks like my Master.
A stirring in the corner of the room brought me out of my moment of self-doubt, and I turn to see the Wookiee groggily shaking its head! I immediately slap my forehead in realization. I had planted enough sleeping tonic in the drinks to knock out a regular man-sized creature, but the Wookiee was easily the size of two or three men!
Of course the drugs wouldn't last long on him!
Realizing that my time was quickly running out, I retrieved the electronic lock scrambler I had hidden in the folds of my headdress and rushed over to the cache in the corner of the room. It only takes a few seconds for me to break through the device’s rudimentary locks, but that was enough time for the Wookiee to fully recover and pick itself up off the ground. I began frantically grabbing the papers from inside the cache, taking note of the Wookiee's perplexed expression as it silently observes my actions. Its gaze jumps from me, to the cache, and finally to the documents in my hands. It goes through this routine several more times before finally figuring out what was happening.
“Hey! Put those back! Those are ours!” it finally manages to bark out, but I don’t speak Shyrriwook.
Instead of responding to the creature's incomprehensible growling, I dart out of the room, using the Force to propel my legs forward at an impossible pace. Predictably, the Wookiee gangster began firing its blaster after me, apparently unconcerned about killing off one of the barge's serving girls. I tore down the corridor, running as fast as my little legs would carry me. The fact that I am spritely and well-trained in athletics is the only reason I manage to evade the sizzling bolts of death that slam into the wall behind me. The sound of blaster fire causes many of the doors along the hall to peak open, as curious criminals stick their heads out to see what all the commotion was about.
“Stop that thief!” the Wookiee bellowed after me, firing wildly, but none of the criminals wanted to stick their neck into someone else’s business. A couple of drunk Corellian bounty hunters even cheered me on as I ran past their room.
“Ha! My credits are on the tiny, naked tail-head!” one of them shouted.
“You're on!” his companion replied excitedly.
A trio of guards was barreling down the hall as I turn the corner, and I narrowly avoid bowling them over as I skid to a stop. At first, I thought they would ignore me, but my luck seems to be unusually bad tonight.
“Hey you! Slave-girl! Stop!” The one in charge held up his hand for her to halt. “What’s going on back there?”
I pause, unsure of how to proceed. I consider trying a mind trick on the guards, but I wasn’t very good at it yet and there were three of them. Instead, I decide to use my natural acting abilities to get her out of this situation. I already looked very much like a young, frightened girl who was running for her life, so I simply played into that.
“Oh brave Master! Thank the Light you're here! A Wookiee upstairs just started shooting everyone! You've got to save meeeeee!” I shrieked as I hugged tightly onto the guard's leg.
As expected, the guard quickly kicks me off onto the floor and turns to his companions.
“Blast it! I knew we should have put a muzzle on that kriffin’ thing!” he growls, pulling out his own blaster. Turning back towards me, he points to the turbolift in the corner.
“Alright girl, you get back downstairs to safety. We’ll circle back to question you later!”
I nod my head as the three guards run off, even though I had every intention of being off-planet by the time they came around to question me. I dive into the turbolift and thank the Force as the doors slid shut.
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo