Saber Practice

BY : Antilia
Category: Star Wars (All) > General
Dragon prints: 9916
Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Wars movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. Characters and settings belong to LucasFilm Ltd. and are used speculatively to continue the stories found in the official books. No profit is being made from this story and no harm is intended.


That said, this story contains graphic consensual sex between two young people, one of whom is underage by our (American) standards. If this offends you, do not read the fic. It also contains a rough ritual mating, masturbation, and non-con bondage and torture of a sexual nature that could be construed, though I do not intend it as such, as f/f slash. If these themes offend you, do not read the fic. Or go complain to the Del-Rey/LFL/author committee in general and Greg Keyes in particular for the connotations, intended or not, of BDSM that permeate the mess that is the NJO.


Setting: Between Greg Keyes' NJO Edge of Victory duology and Troy Denning's Star by Star.

~ indicates emphasis, and replaces the italics normally used if ff.n supported .doc

*Edited March 2005 to correct text mangled by website difficulties. Thanks to MapleAnne and Dingo Jedi for alerting the author to the problems*

Sabre Practice


Bare feet pit-patted down a scuffed corridor meant for the sharp tattoo of hard-soled boots. But it had been decades since the floor had seen more than a cursory mopping by a droid, and just as long since precision marching had echoed in the passages. A slender figure flitted down the corridor, pale in the half-power lighting employed as a cost-saving measure.

Tahiri Veila, 15 years old and a Jedi, ducked around a corner and down a cross-corridor. She cast ahead with the Force, then around and behind her. She thought when she'd first slipped away from the assembled students that she'd been followed; she'd felt shiftings in the Force, like a sand-worm slithering beneath loose desert sand. She'd run, silent on her shoeless feet, slid down an emergency ladder to the next deck, run some more, doubled back, taken a maintenance shaft even lower in the great ship.

Only when enough walls and floors and ductwork and electronics lay between her and the refugee students did she slow her headlong pace. She'd stood, listening, for a long moment.

She'd resisted an urge to not use her Jedi senses, and instead pressed them outward, seeking contact.

No one. If that self-satisfied prig Valin had been following in an attempt to foil her escape, she'd shaken him. She didn't care if he ~was~ the Captain's grandson, he was far too bossy for his own good. Who appointed him academy monitor, anyway?

Satisfied, she slipped down the hallways again, weaving easily through the maze of what had been commoner-class staterooms, and before that, crew quarters. At the center of the maze lay her goal-- a former recreation room.

It was nearly empty now. The game tables and gambling stations had been sold to help keep the ship running full time without paying passengers. Likewise the 3-D sim chambers and the holovid projection booth. The food-prep machinery had been donated to a refugee center on Masquin III.

What was left was a square, echoing room, floor as scuffed as the corridors spiderwebbing off it, walls dinged and faded. Out of the way; forgotten; private.

A space ideal for solitary exercise.

Tahiri's mind was already insulating itself as she stepped through the doorway. She wanted only to lose herself in the ingrained repetitions of Jedi exercises.

~No thoughts-- only instinct. No memory-- only forgetfulness.~

~No pain-- only tranquility.~

She shrugged out of her overtunic and let it puddle forgotten on the floor. Dressed in snug shirt and leggings, she took the opening position of a series of first-level balancing exercises.

"I thought I'd find you here."

The voice came from behind her and startled her so totally she snapped from the elementary balancing pose into a backflip. She landed lightly on the balls of her bare feet, whipping her lightsaber out of its gripper-tape loop at the small of her back.

It blazed pure blue before her.

"Whoa, whoa, easy!"

Someone pushed off one of the tables shoved to the far side of the room and landed lightly on the floor, hands held out and empty. A cheeky grin was tossed at her.

Tahiri glared daggers at the young man. "It's pretty stupid to sneak up on ~me~, Solo!" she hissed.

"Hey, now, I didn't sneak up, I was here first. You had your situational awareness shut down and locked. Not my fault."

Seething, Tahiri eased her defensive stance. He was right. Still...

"Still. Stupid to startle me."

Anakin Solo lowered his hands and tucked them easily into his pants pockets, strolling slowly toward the girl despite the still-ignited blade. "Call it trusting."

"Call it foolhardy," she snapped back.

"Faith."

"Unwise. In the extreme."

"Are you going to switch that off?"

Something stirred, dark and uneasy, behind her ribs. An urge to carry on the sniping, goading them into a full-fledged fight.

~No.~

Tahiri buried the urge and switched off the lightsaber. "Go away."

Anakin shook his head. "No chance."

"I came down here to get away from everyone."

"I know."

"You were the one I felt, following me."

He nodded at her flat statement.

"Only you didn't follow me, you came straight here and lay in wait to ambush me."

Anakin winced at her choice of words. "I came here," he said carefully, "because what I sense from you during your 'exercise sessions' scares me."

She spun on one heel and stomped away. "Stay out of my head, Anakin!"

He trailed her. "I'm not prying. It just happens, because... well, because of who we are. Friends, always."

Tahiri wilted against the wall. "Anakin, I just want them ~out~ of my head!"

"I know you do. But the way you're going about it scares me. You go all numb and blank when you exercise into exhaustion like that."

"That's the point."

"But is it helping?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it and slumped lower. "No," she admitted in a whisper.

Her fallen-forward hair hid the scars the Vong had carved into her forehead, but they seemed to glow and throb in the air between the two of them as clearly as her lightsaber blade had. Anakin swallowed hard.

"When something isn't working, it's time to try another direction. Why don't you come talk to me when it gets bad? I was there, too; I saw part of what you went through. Of anyone on this ship, I've probably got the best idea of what you suffered. So come talk to me; I'll lock the door and listen. Together we'll get the Vong out of your head."

"~Yuuzhan~ Vong." Tahiri leaned on the wall without moving, just considering his words. Finally, she nodded, slowly, as if she were unutterably weary. "Okay, we'll try."

He held out his hand. "My cabin?"

Another weary nod. "Okay."

~~~~~~~~~~


His cabin was much like the other student quarters-- small and spare and utilitarian. None of the Jedi students had had many possessions, even before their forced evacuation; none of them were used to the placement of holos and ornaments and trinkets to decorate their surroundings. A bunk, made up with sturdy sheets and blanket; an alcove with drawers in the bulkhead and hooks for clothing; a door to a shared 'fresher; another alcove with a shelf-like projection that served as a desk, a luma over it giving added light and a row of outlets along the back permitting power and data jacks to be inserted. These were the basic amenities each student enjoyed.

The difference with Anakin's quarters was the desk. It was jammed with gadgets in various states of disrepair, tools, spare parts, and a tangle of multi-colored wire the size of a womp-rat's nest. Obviously his tinkering skills had been pressed into service.

Tahiri stepped inside, suddenly nervous. She rubbed at her bare arms and looked around.

Anakin followed her, closing and locking the door. He dropped her overtunic on the desk chair and crossed to the shared 'fresher door, locking that as well. Then he retraced his steps.

"Sit down. Relax. You want a snack?"

"No." Belatedly, she added, "Thanks." She sank onto the bed, elbows still clutched in her hands.

There was something... odd, in the cabin with them. Nebulous. But there, all the same.

Anakin pushed aside a heavy relay box with his foot, swung the chair around, and dropped into it. "So. Where do you want to start?"

Shivers chased down her arms. She tucked her bare feet up under her and shrugged. "I... I don't know." Pause. "It's hard... "

Anakin waited. Finally, he said, low, "Tell me about the exercises."

Another pause, longer this time. Then, "They... they block the false memories the Yuuzhan Vong gave me. I go deep into the Force as I do the steps, like meditating in motion. The Force cleanses my mind as I work; it scours away the Yuuzhan-ness they left behind. I feel... clean."

"Until you stop."

"Until I stop," Tahiri agreed dully.

She went on, going over her ordeal, renumerating the things done to her while in the hands of the shapers. Slowly, she was able to reveal some of the confusion and rage still in her mind, her struggles to erase their attempts to convert her. Anakin listened, sometimes commenting, sometimes just mulling over her words.

Above all was her sense of frustration, that she could not do any of the things adults were urging on her.

Get past it. Put it behind her. Move on.

Something held her back from healing, she confided. But she didn't know what.

At last no more words tumbled out. Tahiri sighed mightily and leaned back so her back rested on the bulkhead. She picked restlessly at the blanket.

"I'm sick of thinking about it. Let's drop it, Anakin."

He moved over to sit beside her on the bunk. "Okay. But only until the next time you get bad feelings about it. Then we come talk again. Promise?"

"Yeah," she said listlessly.

He'd agreed to stop exploring the uncomfortable feelings. So why did she not feel better?

Beside her, Anakin was silent. Was he waiting for her to get up and go?

Of course he was; he had things to do-- repairs, training, reading Intel reports. Not babysitting Baby Tahiri. Irritated, she shoved off the bulkhead, lurching upright.

"Well, I guess I better go. Thanks, I think, for hearing me out. I don't know if it worked better than the exercises... "

"Give it time." Anakin looked slightly puzzled, slightly... disappointed? That indefinable "something" was easing around the room again.

"Yeah, sure. Time." Tahiri jerked away. "I better go."

"Why?"

The "something" flared suddenly stronger. Electric, like before a Yavin lightning storm. The cabin suddenly gave the impression of shrinking down to storage locker size-- narrow, close, full of...

Tahiri's hands went cold. "What?"

"Why should you go?"

"Well, ah, because... You have things to do."

"I do?"

"Chores. Training."

"The workable droids do the chores. I can handle flexibility in my training."

"Repairs."

"They're mostly just to kill time. One person can barely make a dent in the equipment malfunctions on this skow."

"Ah... ah... sleep?" Tahiri's mind fumbled for an excuse.

Anakin rose from the bunk, a deliberate uncoiling of muscles and limbs. "Sleep is the furthest thing from my mind."

"I-it is?" Tahiri's mouth was parched; she worked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as if she were back home on Tatooine. "Wh-what ~is~ on your mind then?"

She couldn't believe she'd come out and said that. She couldn't believe his answer.

"You."

They'd skated around the issue since the kiss they'd shared back on Yag'Dhul. Neither had come right out and confronted the other with their evolving connection. It was just there, with them, in whatever room they happened to be in. That nebulous "something" Tahiri kept sensing.

A "something" that had strengthened into a current between them.

In a dream, Tahiri felt her feet step closer to Anakin. He in turn swayed towards her.

Their Force-signatures brushed, sending up fountains of fireworks in their nerves.

Clothing whispered together. Blue eyes bored into green.

Still dreamlike, Tahiri rose on her toes like a Boltivian dancer, her lips parting. In counterpoint, Anakin bent down towards her. Graceful as dancers, their arms furled around each other and drew the two young people into an embrace. Their mouths touched.

The Force opened up into a whirling kaleidescope around them, swirling as if the very nature of it wanted-- needed-- to keep these two creatures joined. Anakin wasn't going to argue, and Tahiri was too dizzy. They kissed deeply, sinking into the whirl-dance of the Force.

Anakin's bunk squeaked; with all their focus on moving their mouths together, the young people's legs just folded beneath them. Somehow the bed was there to receive them. Tahiri barely noted the mattress beneath her bottom and thighs-- she was too busy drinking in Anakin's taste and texture and scent.

His tongue was moving on hers now; the sensation sent her whirling off into the galaxy again. His heart drummed in her ears; her own heart sang in return.

The Force lit with joy at the symmetry-- invisible colors and soundless music weaving into infinity.

When they drew apart, Anakin's eyes were heavy-lidded, hooded, and he was breathing hard. Tahiri just felt giddy, as if someone had pumped the atmosphere out of the cabin, or she were spinning in a centrifigal chamber. She looked up into his ice-blue eyes and the universe steadied.

Anakin looked back at her, and a timeless epoch passed in silent communion. Then he blinked hard and took a steadying breath. "Tahiri."

There was a wealth of meaning behind the simple statement of her name. Maybe because of their Force-bond... or maybe she just knew him so well... but she could hear his unspoken words.

He wasn't asking her, he was telling her-- letting her know what would happen if she stayed. She still had the option to get up, to walk out of the cabin and away from his intent. He wasn't going to force her... but if she didn't leave, there would be no stopping what was going to be a very physical encounter.

Tahiri lay back on his bunk.

Anakin made a little noise in his throat, and he moved as if a brake had suddenly broken and released him-- quick, hard, on target. He was on top of her before she could think, and his mouth was covering hers again. They kissed with hot urgency, tongues touching tentatively at first, then plunging and tangling wildly. Their mouths pressed and sucked with all the fervency summoned by two long-denied young people.

Anakin's body covered all of Tahiri's slender length; she couldn't have moved if she'd tried, even with a Force-push. His Force-signature seemed to be burning into her own; she could feel his wanting as clearly as the well-defined muscles that pressed her down, down into the thin bunk mattress.

He pushed his tongue deep into her mouth, exploring, claiming. Tahiri twined her leg up his, hooking her bare heel over his thighs and pulling him closer.

"Uh!" Anakin pushed against her. His mouth left hers, travelled wetly downward, sucking small folds of her throat into his mouth. She gasped and arched, trying to mold herself closer.

"Ah!" The hardness of his body felt exquisite grinding into the aching softness of hers.

"Uh... Uh... " he grunted softly, thrusting at her with his lower body as his mouth sucked and bit at her skin. "Uhhhh..." The bunk rattled slightly as they wriggled together, tapping the bulkhead with a loose metal rattling.

Anakin raised his head. His hair was touseled, his eyes dazed, but there was a dark light in them that hinted he would not be diverted from his purpose. He licked his lips.

"Tahiri, I'm going to get undressed now. You are too, aren't you?"

There was no Force-suggestion behind his words, but she couldn't have refused in any case. She nodded.

"We're going to Do It, then?"

"I want to, don't you?"

"Oh, yeah, I do! I just... What would Master Luke say? Or your parents?"

He dismissed his elders with an impatient wave. "I don't care. I like you, and I'm aching for you-- I wanna see what you feel like, inside and out. It's the right thing-- and the right time. Are you scared of what they'll say?"

"No. It's none of their business. But Anakin... I love you, not just like you."

He flashed her his rare smile, the roguish one that made him resemble his father more than his uncle. "Yeah, I love you, too. Can't you feel how much?" He pushed his groin against hers, and the rock-hardness of his sex dug into her.

She smiled, a little weakly. "Sure. I... I guess so... "

"I love you, Tahiri." He hopped up off the bunk with a fluid motion. "This'll just take a sec."

He peeled his pullover tunic up over his head. His chest rippled when he lowered his arms. On the bunk, Tahiri felt her breath catch.

"Oooo."

The sound was pure, involuntary admiration. Years of training had given him the physique of a full-grown man, broad in chest and shoulders, narrow in waist, all banded in hard, toned muscles. His abdomen flexed, ridged and hard and flecked with dark hairs that led down into his trousers in a thin line.

He smiled down at her, put his hands on his waistband, and opened the fastener. Tahiri swallowed; she could see his swollen sex outlined in the snug cloth. Anakin pried at his boots, kicking off first one, then the other, and then shoved his trousers down his legs. When he straightened up again, all Tahiri's dizziness flooded back.

"Great Force," she breathed.

From a dense nest of dark brown hair covering his lower abdomen, groin, and inner thighs sprang a thick, heavy column of flesh. Long, trembling slightly, it pointed straight at Tahiri with a wide, sloped tip of darkening flesh. She whimpered.

Glimpses of Anakin during training or workouts had shown her that he had the musculature of an adult despite his mere 17 years. His standing nude before her showed it wasn't just a well-exercised body lending him an aura of adulthood; his genitalia weren't those of a boy, or even a teen, but the fully developed sexual equipment of a man.

Tahiri moaned softly.

He seemed pleased by her reaction. He crowded close to the bed, the heavy shaft swaying with the movement. "Touch it," he breathed.

Trembling, Tahiri reached out. Her fingers closed around his sex; he grunted slightly, eyes falling shut, and it jerked a little against her palm.

He wasn't just a full-grown man, he was a ~heavily-endowed~ full-grown man. Tahiri held the shaft without moving for a moment, just feeling its weight and heft. It was as large and hard as a lightsaber handle, and she imagined it had just as much potential power.

Impossibly, the flesh under her fingers tightened and swelled even more, filling his skin to a strained tautness. The head darkened further, to a dusky purple. Tahiri could feel Anakin's wants, through her touch and through their Force-connection, so she moved her hand tentatively, giving the shaft a cautious stroke.

"Uhhh!"

The sound burst from Anakin, as loud and deep as if it had been punched out from his belly. Tahiri's gaze flew up to his face in alarm.

"Shh! The bulkheads on this ship aren't very well-sealed! Someone'll hear us!"

"Can't help it... Feels so good! Do it again..."

Unable to deny him, Tahiri stroked again, and Anakin arched his back, thrusting his groin at her. He groaned, but softly, so she pumped again, pulling the shaft through her hand from root to tip.

A bead of thick, clear fluid oozed out the purpling head and dripped down, wetting her hand.

"Anakin!" Tahiri gasped.

He inclined his head, peering down through half-open eyelids. "'S'okay; 's just the stuff that comes out when I'm getting close to... well, you know."

A picture filled her mind, a memory he sent her via their Force-bond-- his hand, wrapped around his own swollen organ and poised in mid-pump, the head freshly anointed with the fluid. Tahiri could feel that within a dozen strokes, his passion would peak into orgasm.

"You do it to yourself?" she blurted.

"Sure; don't you?" Anakin continued the memory, letting Tahiri see his hand pumping hard on the straining flesh. His excitement and arousal stung at her insides.

"Well, yeah... " Tahiri admitted reluctantly. She wasn't sure she could show Anakin such private intimacies, so she clasped his shaft firmly once more and resumed rubbing.

"Uhh! Ohhh...!"

"Shh!"

"Lower! Touch me... down below."

Tahiri shifted, trailing her fingers over the huge, bulging sac tucked between his legs. The skin was wrinkled, and rough with more of the dark hair; and where her fingers traced, it rippled and shifted in reaction. The globes inside moved under her touch.

"Doesn't this hurt?" She knew boys couldn't stand to be hit or kicked there; Master Skywalker made sure the younger ones wore protective padding during physical activity at the academy.

"Nooooo," he moaned, his hips jerking.

"Shhh!"

"More! Hold them!"

She cupped the bulges gently, the hairiness prickling her palm, and squeezed very lightly. The pressure made him pant and break out in a sweat; when she moved her hand, it slid on dampness.

"Yessss..."

"Are you gonna?"

" 'm holdin' it back... barely. Force-control... " Anakin shook back his hair and grinned at her. "Gotta love it! Rub 'em, Tahiri, please. I've always wanted a girl to handle me down there."

She stroked and rubbed at the tight, heavy sac, manipulating the globes within until he yelped.

"Shhh! Someone is gonna come see what the noises are and catch us!"

"Corran or Kam or Booster will ~know~ what the noises mean and respect our privacy. At least till we're done."

"I don't really want Corran knowing we're bedding each other. He'll lecture."

"We might not have a choice. The last time Mirax visited, I could feel the waves in the Force all night long. He might be able to feel us going at it, too."

"Ick." Tahiri made a face. "I don't want anyone knowing we're... y'know... doing it."

"I'll try to suppress it, at least to the cabin. Some might leak out, though. Jaina said once she could feel Mara's climax, even when Uncle Luke was shielding heavily."

"Stop talking about it! It's weirding me out." Tahiri released his genitals and lay back, a petulant expression on her face.

"Then we won't talk, we'll do this instead."

Anakin climbed into the bunk and stretched out beside her, and Tahiri turned eagerly into his arms. He brought his mouth down and covered hers; their tongues slid together, in and out of each others' mouths with a wet mating. His hands pushed beneath her shirt, gliding over her waist and heading unerringly upward.

She didn't know if she should offer a token protest or not. He was taking the lead, forging ahead and doing what he wanted, leaving her struggling to keep up. On the other hand, it seemed silly to give maidenly protests when she'd already had her hands down his drawers, wrapped around his bare genitals.

Work-roughened palms closed onto Tahiri's small, pointed breasts.

"Ooo, Tahiri!"

"Ah!"

He rubbed at the small mounds, circling his palms over them until the nipples stiffened.

"Looks pretty; you like that?"

"Yeah... " She writhed as he rolled the hard buds in his strong fingers. The pinching sent bolts of sensation to the aching place between her thighs. "Ah! Ohh... "

"Nice?"

"Yeah... "

She was lying in bed with a nude man at her side; he had his hands up her shirt and his bare genitals were drilling into her thigh. Yesterday she had been a girl, still frightened and withdrawn from her Yuuzhan Vong ordeals. Today she was-- nearly-- a woman, discovering the intimate pleasures of having her bare breasts touched and her sex rubbed by a man. She shuddered under Anakin's ministrations.

"Still feel good?"

"Yeah... "

It seemed silly under the circumstances to leave her shirt on, scrunched up under her arms with her breasts poking out from beneath. She pushed at Anakin until he moaned and rolled back, sat up, and peeled the shirt up over her head. Cool air hit her back.

Her nipples were very hard; she couldn't help a surreptious glance down at her own chest to see what they looked like. Then she leaned over Anakin, letting him have a look. His gaze, greedily drinking in the small, hard-tipped mounds, sent a blaze of heat straight through her.

"Lean lower," he rasped.

She bent, and he opened his mouth and took her left nipple between his lips. He sucked, getting both the hard pink point and the pebbly brown aureole into his mouth. He sucked again, milking at Tahiri's dangling breast with the motion of his tongue.

Pleasure flooded from breast to sex at the pull of his mouth. A throbbing fired up low in her belly.

"Ai-yeee!" Tahiri squealed.

"Sshh!" Anakin grunted around his mouthful. He pushed out his Force-shielding until it sealed tighter with with the cabin walls, leaving the two of them encased in a bubble of privacy.

Semi-privacy. When he got involved with Tahiri's body, his control slipped. Plus, the only thing preventing him from spewing his orgasm all over her thighs was a desperate Force-grip on his roiling balls. It was hard to keep track of everything with his attention so enticingly split.

Anakin had the uneasy feeling that Corran knew exactly what was occurring in this cabin, and wanted to put a stop to it but recognized by the feelings that they had gone past the point of no return.

If he let his guard down even more, he could pick up strong waves of disapproval emanating from his brother's and sister's Force-signatures, too. He shoved away his siblings' thoughts and fumbled for Tahiri's other breast.

"Ohhhh, Anakin... "

He sucked, first at the very tip, then more and more until he had most of her breast in his mouth. Tahiri was panting, mouth open, eyes half-shut, on her hands and knees overtop him. He reached down, pushing into her waistband with one hand, and felt down her body until his fingers touched crisp curls.

"A-a-a!" her breath stuttered. Her limbs trembled.

Anakin pushed lower. Curls parted beneath his fingertip until he felt... wetness. Slippery-soft folds of wetness. He rubbed between them, getting all of his index finger into the humidness.

"Ai-yi-yi-eee!"

Tahiri stiffened above him, a warbling battle-cry exploding from her throat. Anakin's mouth popped open, releasing her breast.

"Force! What was that for? Don't you like it?"

"I do!" She still crouched above him, frozen, trembling, legs spraddled. "It felt so good! I couldn't help it!"

"Well, ~try~ to help it!" Anakin grumbled. He pushed the Force-shielding again, mentally feeling its circumference bump the cabin walls. Satisfied, he heaved at the girl over him, rolling her onto her back. "If Corran gets even a ~hint~ that you don't want to be here, he'll slice the door with his lightsaber and separate us. I'm so worked up, it'll hurt like the hells of Kessel."

"I'm sorry." Tahiri rolled up onto her side to kiss him feverishly. "I'm sorry," she breathed between kisses. "I'm sorry."

"Shhh, don't be." He kissed her back, just as hard. They pressed together tighter and tighter, their mouths making wet sounds against skin and lips, the bunk beginning to creak again with their agitated movements. Anakin's hands went to her waist, tugging, peeling her leggings down past her hips and thighs. She moaned into his mouth and he pushed at the cloth with his feet to get the pants completely off her. He rolled close again and his turgid sex pushed insistantly against her softer one.

Anakin ripped his mouth free. "Force! I'm gonna... Tahiri, sorry, I'm gonna. Feel."

He guided her hand down between his thighs. When she touched him, his breath made pained moaning sounds. She felt the tumescent shaft, and felt the eruption straining to burst free in his burning Force-signature. The power gathering around his imminent ejaculation awed her.

"Oh, Anakin! It feels so strong, so hot! Did I do that to you?"

"Yeah." Breathing hard, he pushed her flat onto her back. "You, Tahiri, I want you so much... I'm sorry, I'm gonna get on you now."

"It's okay. C'mere... "

"Spread your legs, I gotta get between 'em... "

"There?"

"Wider, while I climb on... ~Uhh!~"

"~Ohh!~"

"~Tahiri!~"

Anakin settled in full mount atop her: arms braced, his pelvis resting on hers, his legs lining hers, his sex butting for entry at hers. Tahiri, feeling him so close to completing the act, began to whimper.

"Anakin, Anakin, wait, please... "

"I gotta, oh Force, I gotta get ~inside~ you...!"

"It won't fit! It's too big!"

"It will, trust me! It'll slide right in ooo I'm gonna push ooo Tahiri ooo, ahh, ohhhhhh... "

He pushed, and the head found its way to her, the shaft following naturally and so easily, Tahiri could feel the ~rightness~ of its sloped shape. He had to push at her for a bit before she could take his girth, but a final mighty thrust got him sheathed.

Anakin made a deep, gutteral noise and hunched higher onto her.

~~Hard, deep grunts. Rough snarls, followed by breathy yips of pain. The thud of one body pounding violently onto another. Escalating violence, culminating in an animal yowl of completion that drowned the low hurting cries beneath.~~


Tahiri, small, young Tahiri, huddled at the far side of a bantha-wool tent. On the other side of the large shelter but still too close for her comfort, two of the Sand People who sheltered her mated.

At the first hint of mating, when the male had shoved the female face-down into the sand, little Tahiri had scurried as far away as she could, pressing against the musky scratchiness of the tent wall. Adolescents had screened her, melting forward out of the shadows to watch the act their bodies yearned to perform but were forbidden until adulthood. Still, the Force-sensitive child had felt far too much of the lust swirling in the hot darkness.

The female's fear was thick and choking. She was very young, but had passed the trials of strength and endurance and stoicism necessary for bearing young in the harsh environment of the Tatooine wastelands. She had been given to the young warrior who was preparing to cover her; she had been mated by him before, several times, but his seed had not yet taken and he was growing impatient. His impatience made him rough.

Little Tahiri cringed deeper against the tent side as a rending noise signalled the male's ripping an access slit in the wrappings covering the female's hindquarters. She closed her eyes, ground her fists against them, but could still sense the female's bewildered dread. Little Tahiri felt the weight of the male's body as he knelt behind the prostrate female and then mounted her; felt him drag her hindquarters up so he could ride her in the traditional position; felt the burn as if on her own flesh as he stabbed home.

"Ahhhh... "

A soft sigh, like wind over sand, swept the tent. The avid adolescents gasped involuntarily in envy as flesh met flesh for the mating couple.

Another female, older, gaunt beneath her wrappings, darted forward. She thrust a firm bolster beneath the young female's hips, lifting her business end even higher. The mounted warrior grunted, gave an experimental thrust, and bellowed his approval. Seizing his mate's buttocks in both hands, he began to rut in earnest.

The adolescents moaned softly in envy as the warrior's mother scurried aside. Their sighs were drowned by the huffs and grunts of effort expended as the warrior pounded away.

Little Tahiri could still feel what was happening, though. She felt the breath jerked out of the female in husky yips by the slamming of the young warrior's powerful body. She felt the burning in her own flesh as he forced his enormous organ back and forth. Not only was it huge, a thick column of engorged flesh, but the underside was knobbed with thorn-like bumps of flesh. As his arousal increased, the bumps became more and more prominent, until they resembled prongs, or small horns. The sensation as he dragged his organ back and forth was excruciating. The female began to give little moaning cries with each thrust, and little Tahiri jammed her fists into her mouth to stifle her own whimpers.

She could feel the female's instinct to crawl forward, to drag herself free of the male's painful assault, but experience had taught her that the attempt would earn her a brutal beating.

The male's eagerness was scorching at little Tahiri now, tendrils of mindless lust licking like flames at her mind. She whimpered aloud and cringed further into the tent wall, and the female choked down a sob of hurt. The male's huge, spined organ dug deeply into her, stimulating trigger points within that would start the processes of conception if all went well.

He pounded harder and harder, growling viciously, in a frenzy to reach completion. Powerfully muscled arms pinned the female in place, and if not for the bolster holding up her rear, the violence of his rutting would have ground her flat into the sandy floor.

Redness hazed little Tahiri's vision; an overwhelming sensation, primitive in its raw power, filled her mind despite her efforts to shove it away. She ~felt~ the male's crisis, ~knew~ he was poised on a knife-edge of cataclysm...

He bellowed, raw, stark need tearing from his throat in a roar of sound. A damburst of thick boiling seed exploded into the female, searing her tormented flesh. No longer able to hold back her cries of pain, she wailed helplessly beneath the convulsing body of her mate. He ignored her, intent only on the mighty tearing spasms that wracked his body in waves of excruciating pleasure-pain. He shook and grunted, pumping virtual liters of potent fluid into her.

Murmers of awe, and envy, and approval, rose from the ring of avid watchers. Little Tahiri curled into a ball, hiding her head in her arms. The heavy pulsing of the male's organ slowly subsided, delivering its last hot spurts, but he could not yet withdraw from his mate. The thorny protrusions on his sex had embedded into the female's abraded flesh, a biological safeguard against premature withdrawal that might waste carelessly spilled seed. He crouched overtop her, staring sightlessly straight ahead and heaving for breath while he waited for his engorged member to shrink.

Beneath him the female rested, unthinking, grateful only that the torturous act was complete. He still filled her to the splitting point, still had those sharp, aggravating thorns digging into her sore flesh, but the agony of the actual mating was over. Grit had filtered into her face wrappings and dug into her cheek; her hindquarters were chafed and damp with mingled sweat.

She had received no pleasure from the coupling.

The memory faded, leaving Tahiri gasping. It had lasted, beginning to end, only seconds, but Force-enhanced memories were often startlingly vivid. For a second she felt totally disoriented to find herself on her back with Anakin's smooth, naked body atop her, and not face down in the sand with a snarling Tusken warrior taking her from the rear.

"Tahiri. Tahiri, look at me."

Slowly, Anakin's voice penetrated. She dragged her blank eyes down from the ceiling and met his worried blue ones.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"I... " She swallowed, working moisture back into her dust-dry mouth. "I know you won't. It was just... "

"Yeah, I know. I saw the whole thing. Pretty rough stuff."

"You... saw?"

"Uh-huh. We're joined. It's like we're one person, physically and mentally."

Tahiri gave an experimental squirm. Sure enough, Anakin was pushed so deeply into her, so tightly thrust inside, that their bodies had melded as one. She tugged at her mental shields, feeling how low she had dropped them in her agitation.

As the images had risen up from the past, he'd shared them right along with her.

Tahiri whimpered. Anakin, big, muscled, powerful, aroused, was mounted on her with an extremely hard part of his anatomy pushed inside her. The potential for hurt, like the Tusken warrior had hurt his young mate, was alarming.

"No, no," Anakin was whispering. "I'm not gonna hurt you. It's not like that for humans. It's, it's gentler, pleasurable. It won't be rough, it'll feel good. I promise. Here, like this."

He pulled back, withdrawing nearly all the way, then pressed slowly forward. Tahiri whimpered and writhed, but couldn't escape. When he was fully buried again, he paused, then pulled back carefully once more, only to repeat the slow sensual advance.

"See? Does it hurt?"

"N-no... "

"Feel good?"

"I-I guess, kinda... "

"Only kinda?"

"Well... "

Anakin moved again, pushing in and out slowly, deeply. Tahiri, after a few tense moments, released her breath. It did feel nice-- strange, and new, but nice-- and certainly didn't stir the pain and humilation and fear of the Tusken's rutting. She gave a little wiggle beneath him and relaxed her body-- her hips and thighs and lower back especially. Anakin's sex slid more easily in and out, and he groaned.

"How 'bout now?" he panted heavily.

"Mmm, yeah, it's starting to feel nice... "

"Just nice?"

"It's fine, Anakin. Really."

"It should be feeling fantastic now, not just 'nice' and 'fine'. Feel how hot and excited I am?"

"Well, yeah, but... "

"But nothing. You should, too." He pumped some more, shifting around on top of her in search of a better angle. "Better?"

"I guess... "

"How 'bout like this?"

"It's good, Anakin, really."

He huffed out a frustrated breath. "I wanna make it perfect for you, Tahiri. I know I can come-- holding it back's the difficult part. I want to help you come, too."

"Maybe it takes a while before it happens for a girl."

Anakin stilled his urge to give in and buck in and out of his partner in a frenzy of need. He didn't want to tell Tahiri that he had a small, nagging feeling that they didn't have the luxury of time, to learn in a leisurely fashion what to do to bring Tahiri to orgasm. Whether the war, danger to one or the other of them, or something more mundane like Corran getting all righteous and preventing them from ever again sharing a bed and their bodies, Anakin didn't know. He just had a bad feeling deep in his gut that time was not on their side.

The Force itself seemed to be pushing them to be together, almost insisting that they seal their love completely. As if it knew there was no time left for them to grow into physical love.

If Tahiri couldn't feel it too, he wasn't going to tell her and darken her days with worry.

"How do you do it to yourself?" he asked instead.

"Anakin!" Tahiri stared, a red flush flooding her face.

"No, really, Tahiri, show me. Then I'll know where and how to touch you. Show me in a Force-bond memory."

"I-I don't know if I can... " She squirmed beneath him, avoiding his piercing blue gaze.

He bent and kissed her tenderly, then kept his head down beside hers so their faces where shielded from each other. "Do you? Do it to yourself, I mean?" he breathed, and licked her ear.

She sighed. "Yeah... "

"To climax?"

"Yeah... "

"Show me. Show me, Tahiri, then I'll do you. 'S'ok, nothing wrong about it, I do it to myself all the time. Thinking about you, mostly. Please?" His hands roamed her chest, tweaking lightly. "Please show me?"

"Oh, Anakin... " Tahiri sighed again. Softly. In defeat. She closed her eyes.


The shower room on Yavin IV. A long hard day of workouts and studies and training behind her. The tension of the day being drummed away by the steady pulse of the water, by the heat and the steam, the smooth soap.

Handfuls of lather sluicing over her body, pausing at tender breast-points. Circling. Rubbing and sliding, until breasts throbbed and stung, and the secret ache low in her body awakened.

A moan of surrender. Hand, slick with soap, sliding stealthily downward, finding sleek folds hotter than the water temperature could account for. Leaning forward, head coming to rest on free arm laid against the wet stone shower wall. Water pounding shoulders and back, sluicing down legs now braced shoulder-width apart on the wet stone floor.

Fingers weaving with sweet familiarity into folds of hot, plumping flesh. Stroking certain points where sensation blazed, rubbing harder at spots deeper within, to coax out the feelings. Heel of hand settling against swelling bud at the top of the moist cleft, rocking, rocking, rocking, while fingertips dipped and teased.

Noises now, primitive, stark, muffled against wet forearm while hand worked harder, faster, below.

Closer. Swelling, straining. A burgeoning of need. Colors of the suns, the heat, ache and bliss melted together.

Shame, at the pleasuring, the enjoyment of a stimulation that led, in memory, to pain and submission.

But sweet, too sweet-hot to deny.

Forehead pressed hard to stone, mouth jammed hard onto forearm to stifle the plaintive cries.

"Suns! Oh, suns, mercy...!"


"Suns!" Tahiri rasped, jerked out of the memory by more immediate concerns.

Anakin had pushed up onto his knees on the cot, draping her thighs around his narrow hips. He was rubbing his sex, not just in and out, but around in a circular fashion so it moved with delicious friction on the hidden places Tahiri needed touched.

Each forward thrust ended with the base of his shaft pressing hard against the swollen bud peeking out of her cleft.

As if her own hand were pressing on it.

Tahiri arched her back and clenched her thighs, drawing Anakin's heated body to her, then away. "A-a-a!" fluttered her breath again.

The two young people locked in sweating battle were oblivious now to everything external-- creaking bunk, Force-shielding, potential eavesdroppers. They struggled to their shared summit with mutual moans and cries, nearly mindless with their intoxicating lust.

Closer.

Desperation.

Hurting.

Teetering.

Need. Only, in the universe, this. Need.

Anakin's sex, unthinkably hard, chafed Tahiri's tight, swollen cleft. Flesh clung slickly at corresponding flesh. Chafing... rubbing... hypersensitive...

"Suns! Aaaa-naaaa-kiiiin!"

Sensation crashed onto Tahiri like a deluge of water. Images flashed at hyperspeed across her mind-- shower stall, desert tent, a sweating, sparring Anakin, wet stone wall pressed to cheek, drumming water, a sweating , straining Anakin... the suns, gone nova...

A desert battle cry warbled in the tiny cabin. No answering "shush" followed it.

Anakin, watching his beloved shatter beneath him, felt the last thread of his control flash-flame to ashes. He arched backward, bent in a rictus of immense gratification. His groin slammed forward with a wet slap, lifting Tahiri's hips clear off the bunk.

"UHHH!"

A sun exploded in Anakin's mind, and in answering cataclysm in his genitals. He was awash in mindless pleasure, unable to think, to breathe, to articulate.

The Force heaved and whirlpooled around the two shuddering children, sending their sexual peaking richocheting between them and magnifying it back with each tremor and pulse.

The Errant Venture seemed to shudder in response to the mighty forces centered in the cabin.

On top of Tahiri, clenched between her slim, muscular legs, Anakin emptied a volcanic river of ejaculate up into her. Someone was making the most extraordinary noises, sounds of utmost agony. He was too busy pumping himself into tight, slippery Tahiri to isolate the source of the noises, however.

He jerked and bucked and shuddered, barely able to stay impaled on an equally bucking and shuddering Tahiri. She was moving around under him so hard, thrusting her hips and pelvis up at him and, yes, wailing and groaning in an erotic vocalization.

It must be giving her the same good-hurt it was giving him. He wanted to be glad for her, for her intense pleasure, but the grunting sounds were much too loud for rational thought.

And he was the one doing the grunting.

He tried to stop the rude, gutteral noises, but they just kept coming until his member stopped its spasmodic spurts at last. His breath huffed out in a final pant.

Anakin collapsed on top of a snuffling Tahiri.

A long, long time later, he shifted, enough to turn his head towards hers; his half-open, wheezing mouth left a trail of wetness on her thin shoulder.

"You... okay?"

She seemed to be struggling for breath. "Squashed."

"Oh. Sorry."

He shoved himself, painfully, off of her, and thudded onto the bunk. The simple act of dismounting left him panting again.

Finally Anakin was able to turn once more to the girl-woman glued to his side.

"You okay now?"

Tahiri nodded. Her eyes were shut; the scars on her forehead looked especially livid. "That was... astounding," she managed to whisper.

"Did it hurt?"

She didn't answer right away, and sudden worry gnawed at Anakin's guts. Finally,

"Sort of, but not the way you mean," Tahiri whispered.

He swallowed hard at the empty tone in her voice. "How, then?"

Tahiri visibly struggled now. Anakin had time to watch her nipples, hard and dark with pent desire, soften and fade; the flush suffusing her body likewise drained away.

"I never thought about it before," she began at last in a hoarse whisper. "I guess because I haven't had much inclination to pleasure myself since I got back. But coming to climax is very... Yuuzhan Vong-like. It's pleasurable pain. Exquisite agony. Drawing it out hurts like anything... but you want to draw it out, to prolong the hurt. Greater hurt gives greater pleasure." Her eyes went vague, staring into hidden places.

Anakin shifted nervously; his sex, shrunken and softened, pulled stickily against his inner thigh before flopping uselessly to the other side.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you," he whispered helplessly.

"I know. But the act itself is hurtful-- the wanting, the needing, the ache of desire... You, so hard, shoving in and out, making the hurt stronger... "

"I didn't mean to!" he cried plaintively. "I wasn't trying to!"

"I know," she repeated. "But at the end, when my pleasure-pain was greatest... " She broke off.

"What?"

"No. No, it's too much."

"You have to. You have to tell me."

"I... can't."

"Tahiri!" Anakin shoved up on one elbow, staring down at her, frustrated and afraid.

She sighed, motioned. "Like this, then."

He bent, and lowered his forehead to her ridged one. Dischordant flashes blinked over his mind like holostatic, and then...


Tahiri, captive in the shapers' damutek. Bound, flat on her back, by sticky jelly and sinewy vine-like growths. The gouges in her forehead stinging like sand in an eye-- irritating, invasive.

The voices of the shapers, Mezhan Kwaad and Nen Yim, endlessly droning Vong-- ~Yuuzhan~ Vong-- doctrines at her. Her defiant resistance to the doctrines bringing pain. Stinging and needling. Burning. Scorching.

Her resistance eroding, bit by bit. The pain easing its tormenting inroads. Pleasure-- relative pleasure-- flooding in at its retreat.

Pain...pleasure. Pleasure...pain.

An ache, built by the relentless rebounding, between Tahiri's thighs. A throbbing fullness low in her belly. Urges that made her restless, made her strain and moan against her bonds, hips arching, hand twisting to free itself.

Yuuzhan Vong shapers, smiling, discovering paths in Tahiri's memory to self-inflicted pleasure-pain. Stirring those memories, replaying them, until Tahiri writhed and groaned, writhed and screamed, writhed and... begged.

Pain that promised pleasure, that teased, lured, leered, that built to unbearable levels. The shapers tracking these memories, reinforcing the pathway between sexual ache and satiation, and Yuuzhan Vong pain-embrace.

Tahiri's sex, soft, moist, open, in an agony of young needfulness, straining to find purchase. To rub and stroke and chafe. To turn the pain into pleasure.

To prolong pleasure into pain.

Memories, like the one she'd shown Anakin, of herself standing spraddle-legged under a hissing shower of water, frothing her hand between her legs in a frenzy of wanting.

Working, desperately, to reach her summit.

Never quite achieving it, always restrained before the final crest breached.

Sobbing, pleading, with frustration.

A barrier swaying and then lowering-- Tahiri closer than ever now to embracing the Yuuzhan Vong philosophy of pain. Her own body a stinging morass of hurt and need... but accepting, even enjoying, the sting and burn.

Her memory suddenly released, allowed to proceed to completion-- Herself, feet braced on wet stone, arm pressed on wet wall, water sluicing down her body, stroking herself frenziedly. Toppling over into the utter relief of orgasm.

A scream, of triumph, "~Suns!~"

Exclamations of satisfaction and praise from the shapers.

The table wet beneath her twitching body.

Sobs.


Tahiri wrenched away from Anakin's touch and rolled, face to the bulkhead. Her sex twinged. It was soft and wet with completion, tender with stimulation, and her stomach lurched.

She had ~enjoyed~ being stimulated.

Not just today, in bed with a grunting, straining Anakin riding her.

But then, in the damutek, with Mezhan Kwaad and Nen Yim. Even knowing it was her own memories being manipulated into use against her. Even knowing the pleasure came at a very heavy price-- her ability to reject Yuuzhan Vong doctrines. Even then, Tahiri still craved it.

The long, slow, building ache.

The pain that stung at her most private places.

Riding the pain like a river-adventure ride.

The hot, whirlpooling water carrying her into screams of bliss.

Her body racked, over and over, with the exquisite agony orgasm bestowed.

"I liked it!" she sobbed wretchedly.

Anakin laid his hand on her back. "Of course you liked it. It feels good."

"But ~they~ did it to me! They hurt me and scarred me and twisted my mind, but every time they offered me a choice of resisting or climaxing, I let myself climax! You don't understand. Hurting me, and then pleasuring me-- I liked it!" She broke into a storm of weeping.

Anakin was silent for a long time while Tahiri sobbed. At last the wretched noises diminished. He quietly spoke the thoughts he'd gathered while he'd waited.

"Tahiri, Jacen explained sex drive to me once. You know, him and his animals, they taught him a lot, made him curious to learn. He said that nature made the sex act so intensely pleasurable so that beings strive to do it every chance they can. For most animals, this means plenty of young being born, so the species survives. For sentients, who can choose to have babies or not, it's just an evolutionary throwback. I mean, if sex was something we could take or leave, we'd have died out eons ago. So it's just basic biology that makes it feel so good.

"The Vong took that biology and twisted it against you, as a way to make you bend. You can't help that your body feels good when it comes, any more than you can help that eating a meal after fasting feels good, or sleeping when you're exhausted feels good."

Tahiri snuffled quietly. She didn't say anything, but Anakin could tell she had listened to every word. Her feeling in the Force had begun to calm.

After a bit, he scooted up close to her and put his arm around her, drawing their naked bodies together. She didn't flinch when his damp, soft sex squashed itself on her bottom, nor when his hand closed unerringly over one of her small, pointed breasts.

Anakin let himself stay in that position, holding her, and after a while, Tahiri's body lost some of its tension. The Force centered over them like a blanket of warm, invisible mist. Almost too low for them to perceive, it hummed with a deep-down harmony.

Anakin let his love rise and intermingle with the Force-cloak; and after a while, Tahiri released her dark memories and let her own love for Anakin spin free to join his.

And after another long, long time, both spent, drained young people slept.


Esk-nern-dorn


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