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Slave Boy	By : Concrete-Diamond Category: Star Wars (All) > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 18625 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, George Lucas does. I'm not making any money by writing this.

Chapter List
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And now, Warnings – (large) Group, non-con, manual, oral, discussion of some sensitive topics, emotional anguish, virgin confusion

The stairwell was narrow, and excited female voices echoed back to Anakin’s ears as he stumbled after his careless keepers, the chain tightening viciously about his neck. They all seemed to be in a great hurry...

Eventually the small corridor opened up to a much larger chamber, almost cavernous and... pit-like, given the high ceiling. The floor – if one could find it – had been lined with enormous cushions, the septsilk gleaming in the light from the holo-brackets in the wall, yet as his bare feet slid over the shining material, Anakin couldn’t help but wince at the coarse feeling of sand grains corroding sensitive nerves....

And the women! The chamber was filled with females of near to every imaginable species, but all... beautiful, in some form or another.

The chain was tugged and he staggered clumsily into the midst of the group, the moon glow from a single huge skylight settling on his back. All the chatter and feminine laughter died away instantly.

They closed in upon him like beasts to their prey.

His wrists were pinned behind his back; fingers brushed his face, his stomach, poked at his ears, played with his hair. His eyes roved in a panic – and everywhere it was the same- slender, graceful bodies, or enormous figures strapped with flab, not unlike the... thing, upstairs, and large eyes of every known color, thick eyelashes, soft tresses and plumage....

His young heart thumped erratically in his chest as they bore him down to the padded floor with their weight. His arms were stretched over his head and tied with a pale blue dancer’s girdle, and a slap to his face put a shocked halt to his struggles. Anakin fought to breathe past the sobs threatening to rise in his throat, feeling the blood rush to his abused cheek – why?! Why was this happening?! And what – what were they going to do to him?!

A cushion was shoved beneath his hips to raise him further, and they gathered on all sides, whispering in every language, their faces ecstatic and curious....

A fingertip stroked his nipple.

He gasped and shuddered, jubilant, high-pitched cries rose from the audience, and suddenly he couldn’t count the hands upon him, caressing him into a frenzy. His legs were pried apart, knees held to the side, and... and... ohhhh....

His head fell back into the lap of a female g’ruthian, and she bent and kissed his bruised neck, her white and azure head-plumes stroking his face and shoulders... The tears finally streamed down his face as hands gripped his thighs- leaving nail marks, he was sure of it – and hot fingers wandered up and down his shaft, feeling the veins underneath, pulling at it. And slowly, he began to understand... these supine creatures had never had a man to torment....

A forked tongue lapped at his chest, the skin crowning his shaft was peeled back harshly, and his wail of pain was transformed to shocked pleasure at the first touch. He could feel fluids trickling down the length, being caught, gathered and examined, and in a surge of terrified, confused ecstasy a cool, wet finger worked it’s way into the opening just a little lower down...

It was too much, too soon after all that had happened upstairs, mere minutes ago, and when he wailed and pumped his hips on the cushion they all hissed, growled, squealed... He was a plaything, nothing more than a toy... The finger probed deeper, hands and tongues petting at his trembling body, and suddenly the humiliated tension surrounding his flesh snapped. They all gave jubilant squeals as his cries grew louder and louder, whitish liquid bathing the skin of his belly.

Sagging back to the cushions, eyelids fluttering and expelling what little tears they had left, Anakin fought for control of his mind.

Meditate... let it go... let it all melt away...

But they weren’t satisfied – they wouldn’t let him rest.

Thick lips closed over his own, taking in his cries as the rest swooped upon him like rancors to carrion. He was a... pet, now – a toy, for a bored collection of inter-species beauties. And now that they’d seen the trick, they would want it again... and again, and again, at a whim, whenever they wished, for amusement... And as the full helplessness of his predicament washed over the nineteen-year old’s horrified mind, soft screams of distress began roll out of his lungs, only to be swallowed by another...

Anakin couldn’t be sure when he’d fallen unconscious – perhaps after the third time, when they’d all gathered him in their arms – soft and scaly alike – and crooned beautifully in languages he didn’t understand.

He’d awoken in a tangle of limbs – five of them seemed to have claimed him for the time being, and had wrapped themselves about him like the clinging vines on Naboo... They were all asleep, dozing in the late evening cool...

He sobbed quietly, and made to sit up – Mom, please, stay alive – only to be pushed back down by a slender hand to his chest.

“It’s adorable,” the white-skinned twilek crooned in huttese, smiling to her companion, the six-breasted askajian.

“Look at that blush Yarna, isn’t he sweet?”

The padawan shrieked through his teeth in frustration, struggling briefly, only to find he was still bound at the wrist, and the inhibitors clasped about his neck left him powerless....

“Ohhh, you want to get up, don’t you?” The twilek murmured as if to a child, stroking his cheek as she turned back to the other – Yarna, was it? “Have you ever seen such a show of emotion?”

It was too much – bad enough to be treated like a jointed droid, but to be talked about like a pet bantha cub that couldn’t so much as understand Basic -!

“No, but it hardly suprises me.” Yarna muttered back, before lifting the blonde braid from his shoulder, the interwoven gems glittering in the moonlight.

“You know what this is, Lilae?”

The twilek shrugged carelessly.

“Pleasure boy fashion?”

Anakin moaned quietly – he had no strength left for the rage he desired.

A sigh escaped Yarna’s warty lips.

“A learner’s braid – I saw it once, when a jedi delegation arrived in my village – the tribes had massacred my brothers’ clan, and my father –“

“Come to the point, Yarna!” Lilae snapped.

“If he is a jedi learner – well, I commend the ones who snared him. He would command a chief’s ransom at any auction.”

“So?”

“You don’t know, do you?!” The askajian muttered increduously. “Lilae, all jedi are untouched from infancy. Their laws forbid it. Some don’t so much as know what – well, what it is. And judging from all those sweet tears –“ A plump finger swiped gently across his cheek, both of their faces looming above, their fixed gaze more than discomfiting...

“ – I would say he was purer than Hoth snow.”

The twilek’s beautiful face had been seized with a look of absolute horror.

“But then – in the throne room, that was- that was the first time he’d ever – Tichin Maku, the poor thing!”

Her soft hands worked down his neck, petting gently, infuriatingly, and with a quiet moan Anakin let her do what she pleased. He couldn’t fight it, so why try?...

No! No, you can’t think like that! You have to get out, find Mom – oh force, is she even alive?! Please, please...

He bucked his hips – hard – and a very startled Lilae was thrown from her perch into a pile of cushions. Now! For several precious seconds he fought to free his limbs from the snare of bodies that held him, and finally managed to get to his feet – only for a clammy, green skinned hand to catch his ankle, and flip him on his back once again.

“Well done Greeta, well done....” muttered a new voice, strange, feminine, but terrifying.

A humanoid female rose into view, her dark hair pouring over her golden shoulders and her fierce eyes glittering.

“It seems the little boy would like to see more of the place – we should indulge him.”

TBC.
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Slave Boy