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SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot 01

By: herminius



Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously.


She caught his arm as he walked past and was surprised to suddenly find herself at blaster point. Tweeta was a dab hand with a blaster herself and she hadn't even seen him move. "You want something?" He asked evenly, hands as steady as his voice. Emerald eyes blazed, pulling her attention from the blaster and the scars surrounding his mouth.

"Whoa there, I was just going to say that if you need any new tricks, you should see my cousin, Wentell. He's got some new mods that might be of interest to someone in our line of work." She said, keeping her hands well away from the blaster holstered at her hip. After long years of dealing with non-Rodians, she didn't release any of the pheromones that would have signaled peace, surrender, even arousal, as non-Rodians tended to find them all indistinguishable and nasty. Antagonizing the Human in front of her wouldn't have been high on her list of priorities even if he hadn't had a blaster on her. Well built, about her height and with the grace of an experienced combatant, even the soldiers trolling the refugee camp for pussy, credits, traitors or all three gave him a wide berth.

"Thanks for the tip. I'll give you one. Don't go grabbing folks you think work the shadow path. Good way to end up dead. Even when they haven't just been betrayed, robbed and hijacked." Sulmad replied, holstering his weapon and walking away without looking back at the athletically built Rodian.

She snorted loudly and headed into the base herself, heading for the local cantina. A stiff drink was just the thing to steady her nerves after coming so close to death. Several drinks later she spotted him. The same smuggler, tight pants, fast hands, chatting up the girl behind the bar. A Twi'lek slut, blue skin with black stripes, her lekku twitching as she laughed at whatever cornball line he was feeding her. The slut had a body built (probably literally, Tweeta thought vindictively) for fucking, slim waist, full breasts, long legs, lips that belonged wrapped around cock...

Tweeta had about enough of being ignored in favor of Twi'leks, damn tailheads thought that just because everyone wanted to enslave them, they were hot shit.

This made sense in her alcohol and anger soaked mind. 

It didn't help that she'd left Rodia when she found her previous mate balls deep in a Twi'lek slave girl's ass. After killing both of them, a change of scenery seemed in order.

She staggered to the bar. "Damn tailhead cunt, none of you have ever been able to keep your legs closed, maybe I should close 'em for you, permanently." She slurred, reaching for her blaster.

Sulmad caught her arm and twisted it behind her, slamming her hard against the bar. Her scaled skin took most of the blow, but it was enough to daze her and his hold never loosened. The only way she was rising was if she was able to rip her own arm off.

"Someone's had a bit too much to drink." Ryn said, sweetness dripping on Tweeta's ears like acid. "Dump her in the back to sleep it off." 

"The back?" Sulmad asked.

"Follow me." The Twi'lek woman turned, her lekku twitching almost as much as her tight ass, under her skin-tight pants. Though there was no contest when it came to what Sulmad was looking at.

The smuggler casually took the blaster from her hip, not even bothering to cop a feel of the her lush ass, which offended her rather more than taking the liberty would have. Despite being approximately her height, he was still strong enough to immobilize her quite expertly as he dragged her behind the bar to the complete disinterest of the other patrons. It might have been different if she hadn't been so drunk she could barely stand.

The back room was just a storage space. There was a mattress in the corner where Ryn could get some sleep when she didn't want to hike back to the refugee camp surrounding the base, but other than that it's only amenity was an ample supply of crates and pipes. "You sure you just want to leave her back here? I wouldn't want her to get any ideas about bruising your pretty face." Sulmad asked.

"Or shooting it, slut." Tweeta snapped, twitching her snout in a manner that any Rodian would have interpreted as sneering, but that to everyone else was amusing.

Ryn smiled and produced a collar from beneath her bed. "Selective magnetic collar, keyed to this crate. She won't be able to get more than five feet away from it, at this setting." She explained, snapping it shut around the Rodian's neck before she could react. Sulmad shoved her onto the mattress and Ryn pressed a button on a remote she produced from her impressive cleavage.

Tweeta felt herself pulled by the collar right up against the metal crate, banging her head uncomfortably. "Whoops, that's the second highest setting, not the second lowest. Oh, well, you know how stupid us tailhead cunts are." Ryn said, before pushing another button and causing the pressure to ease.

"And why do you have a toy like that...under your bed?" Sulmad asked, turning to the beautiful blue woman at his side and dropping Tweeta from his attention with embarrassing ease.

"I had to leave behind everything I wasn't wearing, I wasn't going to lose the last of my things." Ryn replied, turning to face him.

"Terrible business, war. And why exactly were you wearing a selective magnetic collar?"

Ryn stepped forward so her breasts brushed his chest and whispered something in his ear. 

"Really...Savrip horn? I never would have thought of that...no...no...excellent idea..." Sulmad replied, his voice growing more and more intrigued. "In that case, why don't we show her why folks hit on you and just hit her?"

Ryn slugged him in the shoulder. "Oh, you bad boy."

"Is that a yes?" 

"Absolutely." Ryn agreed, nimble fingers undoing his belt and tossing it aside.

"Come on!" Tweeta snapped. "Get a room."

"We've already got one, little miss frigid, it just so happens to be the one you're tied up in." Sulmad said as he pulled off his shirt, revealing a mass of lean muscle, covered by scarred white flesh, half a dozen wounds from blades and a pair of blaster bolt impact sites decorated his torso.

"It's even soundproof." Ryn put in, removing her utilitarian, if quite tight shirt to reveal a plain white bra that contrasted extremely well with her blue and black skin.

Sulmad finished stripping a few seconds before the buxom blue babe, taking the time to make sure his blaster was within easy reach, before he closed the gap, pressing her up against one of the cold metal crates hard enough to draw a hiss from the alien. "Of course the door's not locked. Anyone could walk in and then we'd have an audience. More of an audience." He corrected himself, acknowledging Tweeta's existence. Briefly.

Ryn damn near purred at that though, before wrapping her legs around him and kissing him firmly. "Part of the fun." She whispered throatily, as she broke for air.

Sulmad grinned back at her. His rapidly hardening cock was pressed against a firmly muscled stomach, covered in skin as soft as silk. "No doubt." He agreed, though exhibitionism wasn't really a major kink of his, the way it obviously was for Ryn. The story she'd told, explaining how before the separatists rebelled she'd been a performance artist, specializing in exhibitions at the parties of the rich and corrupt (though on Ord Mantel, even more than the rest of the galaxy, the one implied the other). The sight of an elegantly, if skimpily, attired Twi'lek, bound, gagged and completely helpless brought many a gasp from the party-goers of Ord Mantel and even more credits into her pocket, before the separatists screwed everything up.

As her lekku caressed his face like a lover's hands, her own hands were busy, guiding his firm cock into her soaked pussy. A captive audience, radiating hatred and violence and arousal in equal measure was even better than the confusion, nervousness and arousal that she usually provoked. She moaned loudly as she felt the smuggler's cock fill her completely. Though her eyes were fixed on the Rodian's large, bug-like ones, savoring the woman's inability to look away, she set the muscles of her cunt rippling against his cock, using all her considerable skill to repay her rescuer and demonstrate her superiority. Her hands ran over his back, as her feet drummed against his ass, pulling him back into her every time he withdrew. She was rewarded with loud moans from the smuggler, though his hands were too busy supporting her to do anything to return the favor. 

"I knew you were a whore. Or, did you forget to be paid again? That would just make you another tailhead slut." Tweeta put in, interrupting the chorus of moans rising from the rutting pair.

The Twi'lek bartender hit a button on the remote she'd stashed behind her, pulling the Rodian woman back so she was pressed against the crate on the other side of the room. Now she was literally unable to look away, as opposed to being hypnotized by the erotic tableau before her.

"Enjoy the show, bug-bitch. You need to ask if you want to participate." Ryn said, keeping her voice as level as she could as the human plowed her roughly.

He nipped her ear. "Focus on what you're doing, babe." He commanded, as his hands slid up hairless thighs to fondle her ass.

"What's the matter? Did I make you miss a stroke, slut?" Tweeta asked, despite her situation, the collar was pressed against the crate, forcing her head forward at a painful angle.

Ryn didn't respond, focusing on the sensation of being filled completely as the Rodian's complaints and insults assured her that she wasn't alone, that it was a shared experience. Her would-be killer's insults ran through her ears, directly to her cunt, mixing with the fucking Sulmad was giving her to form a deliciously explosive compound.

For Sulmad, the insults were not a turn on, nor was having someone at his back who he couldn't trust, or see. On the other hand, a hot blue alien chick was riding his cock. And then she was cumming on his cock. All her control and finesse went out the window, she was all over him, pushing back, her cunt felt like it was going to rip his cock off, her tongue was in his mouth and he was tipping over backwards for just a second, before he regained control and managed to spin them, so instead of him falling on the hard floor, she fell on the mattress, with him atop and inside her.

Now that he could see the Rodian, he was happier, not just because he could keep an eye on her, but because the angry alien's arousal was extremely obvious to anyone with a basic understanding of Rodian physiology. But for the moment, he focused his attention on the breasts that had been pressed against his chest, but which were now available for play.

He lowered his head, tasting one nipple, her sweat was surprisingly sweet, though the other Twi'leks he'd fucked hadn't been the sort of folks you tasted, more like the sort you tested. One of her lekku was playing with her other nipple, doing its best to extend the orgasm Ryn was experiencing. Her cunt hadn't relaxed enough for him to pull out, so he focused on her breasts and then, remembering she wasn't human, on her lekku as well. The sensitive appendages extruding from her head were abristle with nerves and, in her ultra-sensitive state, his touch and tongue and teeth were too much to handle.

She screamed loud enough to test the sound-proofing and hurt his ears. One of his hands was heading for her mouth when her other lekku plugged it, fucking her own mouth like it was a cock. The legs wrapped around him tightened, pinning him against her body as her cunt milked his cock. He'd tapped into something primitive, one of the reasons early Twi'leks had been valued as sex slaves, before most forgot it was for any reason other than sleek, elegant grace and beauty. Stimulated beyond control, she needed him to cum and her body was doing whatever it could to make him cum and to make her body receptive to his seed. Instinct controlled her lekku, her hands, her legs, her cunt, all trying to make both of them cum.

Ordinarily, sheer contrariness would have made Sulmad resist. He didn't. Her hands massaged his balls, her cunt sucked his cock and Sulmad flooded it with his cum and collapsed on her, enjoying her feel of her body under his, as her hands stroked his hair, her lekku, wet with spit and sweat came to rest on the back of his neck and her legs slowly fell away from his ass. 

Her cunt milked every last drop of cum from him, then loosened enough for him to slide out.

He rolled over, careful to not squash the Twi'lek's lekku and lay back on the mattress, enjoying the afterglow.

Tweeta was silent. Though Sulmad couldn't tell whether she was awed by their performance or had just run out of pejorative terms for Twi'leks.

After a long moment, he stood up, awkwardly as if he'd been drained of energy and dressed himself. He gave Ryn a quick kiss, whispered an explanation about where he was going, suggesting that they get together again later, gave Tweeta a sarcastic salute, noting that the Rodian was crying and fled before that could make him feel guilty. 

A blaster, a great fuck, and a paid bar bill, it wasn't his ship, the stolen shipment of blasters and hijacker's head on a stick, but the day was turning around. Hopefully his encounter with the local underground would go as well.

Ryn rose more slowly with a broad grin stuck on her face, at least until she say Tweeta crying. "What's wrong, little one?" She asked, walking over and brushing a tear from the Rodian's cheek.

"You wouldn't understand—none of you pretty people ever do." Tweeta said drunkenly, drinking in the view of Ryn's naked, sweat covered, damn near glowing body.

Ryn's bright eyes met the Rodian's black ones. "Try me, babe." She said with a tempting smile.

Unfortunately, this is Sulmad's story...

SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot 02



SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot: Prologue: 

There Are Many Types of Reward

Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously.

The thieves were dead, the medicine recovered and the Cathar woman who'd originally stolen it was most grateful to have it returned. The bestial looking refugee's tufted ears twitched slightly as she accepted the packaged supplies.

"Thank you so much. I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't come along. These poor children would have died and anyone else would have surely arrested me for stealing them in the first place, but you covered for me with the soldiers and dealt with those thieving scavengers. How can I ever thank you properly?" Yael asked asked.

"There's no need to repay me. What sort of man would I be if I let innocent people suffer? Those soldiers signed up to fight, you didn't. And neither did those poor children. I just did what any true man would do." Sulmad said, innocently, if repeatedly drawing attention to his generally obvious masculinity.

Yael brushed her mane back, the pale red fur on her hands contrasting nicely with the brown of her mane and the white of her face. She stepped forward and hugged him tightly. "You did more than anyone else. Thank you."

She moved to press her lips against his cheek, but he moved slightly, catching her mouth with his as powerful arms encircled her, hugging her back and protecting her against the world. After a moment's hesitation, she kissed him back passionately. A graceful leg kicked the door to her hut shut and she pulled him down onto the bed, spinning them so she was on top. She ripped open his shirt, revealing a well muscled and heavily scarred chest, with surprisingly little hair. It might have bothered her if she didn't have a well documented fetish for non-furries (which somewhat limited her interaction with other Cathar given their cultures sexual openness). There were a few scratches from the action against the smuggler and a few more from her claws ripping open his shirt.

Sulmad ignored the pain, getting a thumb under her shirt and pulling it off. She barely got her arms up in time to let him. He ran a hand along the fur of her sides and over her small breasts. "So soft." He said with a smile.

"Too soft. I can't even feel it. Harder." Yael demanded through clenched (and very sharp teeth).

Sulmad began to wonder if he knew what he'd gotten into, he'd never been with a Cathar before. Though he had once seen one cut through a durasteel knife in a bar fight, using only his claws. Okay, his claws were reinforced with cybernetics, but still...

On the other hand, he was already beneath her, so what the hell. Strong fingers clamped down on where her nipples should have been, though they were hidden by fur. Pleasure shot from his fingers like lightning from a Sith inquisitor. Yael arched her back and howled like a bitch in heat (even if she was more catlike than doglike). 

While one hand kept a constant pressure on her breast, the other unbuckled his belt and tossed it away, careless of where the blaster fell (one of the advantages of sleeping with people who liked him, as opposed to who were being paid for it was not having to worry, as much, about them shooting him). He unzipped quickly as he really didn't want her to try to shred his pants.

That just left her pants, which she solved with a savage slash that scared the shit (though not the erection) out of him, but left him undamaged. He batted aside the hand that headed towards his cock and guided it up into her himself, as keeping those claws away from his skin was almost as high a priority as getting his cock into her tight cunt. And tight it was. Sulmad might have had a cock that was just on the large side of average for a human, but for a Cathar...

If the other refugees hadn't known better than to burst into Yael's hut, they would have at her screeching as he stretched her pussy the way she loved. It actually hurt Sulmad's ears, but the exquisite sensations coming from his cock more than made up for it.

Her fur pressed against him when he pulled her down, tit first to his chest. Her hands slammed down on the mattress, one on either side of his chest, claws kneading in and out, shredding the soft cloth. His hands slid under hers and grabbed her face, locking her golden eyes on his green ones. Barely controlled lust shone in them and was reflected back at her in his own. The screams grew quiet (quieter, actually) and he smiled savagely at his conquest.

Sulmad tried to slide out and discovered that wasn't how Cathar sexuality worked. Her cunt was producing an adhesive that would hold him inside until she came. An interesting evolutionary trait—and not one Sulmad was aware of.

Not one to panic (usually), Sulmad released her head and ran his hands down her back to her ass and gripped it, firmly, pulling hard, provoking sharp moans from the Cathar woman, who almost collapsed against him, moaning against his ear, though her claws never stopped destroying her mattress. After three tugs convinced him that she wasn't coming off unless she took his cock with her, he gave up and decided to enjoy the ride, as best he could.

He gave her his best rib-cracking hug, forcing her breasts against his chest so hard he could barely breath as she writhed atop him like a living nanosilk blanket determined to grind each inch of its absurdly soft surface against every nerve in his body. The idea of scratching came late to him, pets not being a big part of his upbringing (viewing them more as meat than companions had that effect) but it did occur to him. It provoked another bout of screeching, this one far closer to his ears, but it also provoked more writhing, so it all balanced out. She was anchored at three points, his cock and her hands, but that still left the flexible Cathar an impressive range of motion.

Then she was silent and frozen as the stimulus swept her over the edge of her orgasm. A side-effect of Cathar evolution was a propensity towards easier orgasms, for the women, at least.

A second liquid was released as she come, loosening the grip of the adhesive; reacting with it to release his cock in a fountain of tickling bubbles. It felt like a million tiny kisses all along his dick, but ended just before the feeling of bubbling, frothing Cathar cum on his shaft could make him cum. She sat up slowly, letting his hands fall to his side. Sulmad's eyes were closed, enjoying the sensation. Though Yael couldn't feel anything more, the orgasm having temporarily overwhelmed the pleasure center of her brain (like always), she did enjoy his pleasure. 

When those green eyes opened she pushed herself off, then dropped back down, shoving her furry self against his hips. "I should have warned you about that, I was gonna put your slab of meat in my ass, that way we both have fun and you don't get temporarily locked in." Yael explained easily as she bounced on his cock. Her hands caught his, pinning them to the destroyed bed. "Instead we're having out fun sequentially. It's really no fair that I went first when you're the hero, but you get your cock in a Cathar's cunt and that's just the way it goes."

"Damn near was simultaneous," Sulmad whispered, though her sharp hearing caught it and she smiled down at him. "Besides, I always put the needs of others before myself." He continued with a blinding smile and a thrust matching her bouncing..

She rose, twisted and came back down, bringing her chest down as well and swept a rough tongue over his right nipple, up to his throat, then further up to his ear, where she purred a few words. "So you do, but let me do this, let me give as well as take." Her language was surprisingly formal, an acknowledgement of debt and a willingness to do anything to repay said debt while retaining her honor. 

"It's your show, beautiful." Sulmad agreed, relaxing as much as he could, one muscle stubbornly remaining quite rigid.

She sat up, arching her back to change the angle of pressure (or most pressure, as she was built for Cathar cocks, not Human ones) and planted one hand between his legs to support herself and got down to the business of riding him like he was a bucking Savrip.

"You're so big. It's a little hard to do this, seeing as how you're up in my guts. There ain't a Cathar in the galaxy who's this big. Probably ain't more than one or two Cathar cunts like me who could take it, but I can. And I love it." She froze at the bottom, his cock filling her completely and let him enjoy that sensation for a moment. "You're hitting virgin territory with that monster," she lied.

He knew she was lying, but the words felt good and the bouncing had almost made him forget how tight she was. "You're gonna make me cum you keep talking like that." He groaned.

"Good. Fill me up with you cum, stud. I want it in me, filling me, so when I'm walking around the camp, talking to the people you saved, I'll have a sticky little reminder in me of how good you are," she leaned in close and twisted her hips, making him moan, "in every dimension."

He growled and his hands moved, catching her hair in one hand and her ass in her other. Three savage thrusts hit her pussy so hard she was worried he might lodge a testicle in her cunt. The hand in her hair pulled her up over his face, so he could watch her eyes as he flooded her cunt and flood it he did. "Fuck that pussy, cum in it, cum in your pussy." She begged.

The moment came and the heat rose, flooding from every nerve to his cock, then up and into her. Yael's nerves were just starting to turn back on as she felt the cum fill her. Sulmad held her for another long moment, watching her eyes, feeling her pussy, her fur, her everything against him. Then the energy went out of him and he let his arms fall.

She rolled off him, onto the destroyed mattress and curled around. Her rough tongue dragged over his sensitive cock, cleaning every drop of cum, his and hers alike from it. With him cleaned up, so to speak, she turned her attention to herself. Extending one leg gracefully and bending at an angle that made Sulmad's back ache (and cock jump) just watching, she carefully licked her own cunt clean, making sure that not a drop of their combined fluids stained her fur.

Sulmad laced himself back up as he rose, pulling on what remained of his other clothing and redoing his belt, slowly as he was a bit worn out. "You know, we work well together—"

"I can't abandon these people." Yael said, bonding to her feet, sharp teeth flashing through thin lips in what had to be a smile. "But thanks and if you're ever in the camp, you look me up, huh? I'll show you what my ass can do."

"I might just take you up on that." Sulmad said, smiling at the cat-woman, wearing only the remnants of clothes she'd ripped off so she could fuck him, a smile and a tiny drop of cum that was dripping from her pussy.

Sulmad stepped forward, caught the drop and lifted it to her lips. "Missed one." He noted.

She licked it off his finger. "Such a tasty treat you are, captain."

"You aren't so bad yourself, beautiful. You need anything, let me know."

"You need any ass, you let me know, k stud?"

"Definitely." Sulmad agreed, heading for the door, propelled by an impressive slap to his ass.

Unfortunately, other business would keep them apart, but Sulmad didn't mourn the loss overmuch as he was soon neck deep in conspiracies, blasters, lightsabers and pussy. 



SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot 03



Prologue: 
A Fun and Uncorrected Mistake

Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously.



Sulmad walked, okay, staggered out of Yael's tent. The coat over the ragged remnants of his shirt gave him an almost civilized appearance. The fuck session with the Cathar refugee had left the smuggler drained, both literally and figuratively. He was distracted enough that he almost didn't notice the pretty blonde who was moving to intercept him. A hand fell automatically to the butt of his blaster and his movements grew smooth as instinct overrode exhaustion.

"May I speak to you in private?" She asked, her accent was distinctly upper class and her distaste for the shabby smuggler was evident in both tone and body language.

"About what?" He asked, surreptitiously checking for movement around them. The refugee camp was fairly quiet, it was late and no one wanted to interrupt the fiery Cathar's fun, especially not when she'd just got them the medicine they so desperately needed. 

"Business." She sniffed. "What else would I want to talk to you about?"

"I wonder that myself, seeing as how refugee camps are not famous for their balls, or wealth. What business could you have that would interest me?" Sulmad snapped.

"I will not discuss this in public." She replied, crossing her arms over an ample chest.

"If you stab me in the back, I'll shoot you in the face. Understand?"

"Very well." She said, every word managing to drip with the distaste she felt for him.

"Lead the way. I don't trust you at my back." He said, returning her subtext to her as text.

She spun on her heel, skirts swirling around her feet as she walked away. A less genteel woman might have stomped, she swayed, her ass twitching under the fabric of her skirt, drawing the unwary eye. Sulmad let one eye be drawn as the other watched for ambushes.

Though her looser clothing concealed more of her form than most of the women he interacted with, it was still obvious that under the rags there was a woman with a body built to fuck. Full lips that anyone (of the right orientation) would be pleased to see wrapped around his cock; large breasts that he wanted to feel on his chest, or maybe press against the ground as he fucked her roughly from behind in the dirt; blonde hair pulled back tight in a high braid, just begging to be released, or perhaps used as a handle to really dig into the tight ass she was tempting him with...

She opened the door to her hut and waved him through. He waved right back at her and followed her in, letting the door close behind him, he kicked it, making sure it latched. His eyes raked the hut. A folding table and chair filled a third of it and a bare mattress filled another third, leaving little space for them to fill, as he refused her polite offer of the use of her chair, or any of the minor amenities she had.

"Let's get down to business, shall we. If I wanted to socialize with you, I'd have come up to you, not the other way around." Acid dripped from his tongue.

"Very well. I require the return of a necklace."

"You're living in a hut and you want a necklace? If it's worth enough to get you out of here, why wouldn't I just sell it myself?" Sulmad countered. "I don't go into things blind. Fucks with my aim."

"I am the Lady Alma."

He just stared, though his mind was racing. Sulmad had his problems with nobility, if wanting to drown them all in a lake counted as a problem, but he was hardly in a position to turn down work, not with no ship and nothing but the partially shredded clothes on his back to his name.

"Dewaran nobility. The necklace is an heirloom, of no interest to anyone off Dewara, but important to us. I left it behind when I fled the village ahead of the separatists and so--"

"Fascinating. What does that have to do with me, princess?"

"I am not a princess, just a lady—"

"Since you apparently missed the sarcasm in the 'fascinating' let me clarify. I don't care anymore. Why are you telling me this? You don't have any money, obviously, and I don't take IOUs." Sulmad snapped.

"Indeed and I was concerned, until I discovered your arrangement with Yael." Alma said, as if that explained anything.

Emerald eyes narrowed, measuring her blue ones. He thought he knew what she meant, but he wasn't about to provide her any more information than she already had. "Oh? You mean to match her offer?"

"Don't be silly, I'll exceed that alien slut's offer." She snapped.

"How?" Sulmad asked.

"She fucked you like the animal she is. I will let you fuck me, like the animal you are." She said, looking down her patrician nose at her fellow Human.

Sulmad almost choked at that statement, coming in that accent. "What?" He asked, disbelievingly.

"Up the ass, obviously, as I haven't had a chance to have my BC implant checked since my the manor I was visiting was burnt down." Alma explained, as if she was giving a servant directions on where to put the centerpieces, not a smuggler instructions on where to put his cock. "I'll simply have to take the risk that you're carrying some filthy disease, but I'm sure my doctors can cure whatever it is when I'm back in civilization." 

"And what do you want, that you imagine that your scrawny ass can pay for with one fuck?" Sulmad asked, matching her, contempt for contempt.

"I was fleeing through the village just outside the base, the one the separatists are holed up in. That's where my necklace got lost." 

"I might be heading that way. Where did you lose it?" Sulmad asked, letting his eyes wander over her curvy frame freely and without any attempt at subtlety.

"A hut by the exit nearest the camp. You can't miss it. The necklace itself is a small thing, the cord is nanosilk and there's a steel amulet on the end. It has this pattern on it." She lifted a paper and passed it to him, revealing a stylized 'A' surrounded by circles.

"So, let me see if I've got this straight. I infiltrate a heavily fortified enemy stronghold, slaughter my way to a hut, search it, find that some asshole stole the necklace, then have to slaughter everyone there until I find it all for...a piece of ass I could buy for five credits?" Sulmad asked.

"You can't buy mine—"

"Except with a necklace." Sulmad interrupted sharply. He stepped forward into her personal space and she looked at him as if he were a talking piece of furniture.

She slapped him. His face didn't move under the blow, such as it was. Green eyes froze solid as he realized how completely instinct had betrayed him. He'd reacted to her accent, her bearing as if she was a noble and he was still a child she could have executed on a whim. Being around her was bad for him and would be bad for his rep if anyone saw them together. He spun on his heel and stepped towards the door.

"I didn't give you permission to leave!" She snapped.

Sulmad moved, faster than she could see, pressing her against the wall, one hand wrapped around her throat. "You don't own me." He said, so coldly she actually froze.

"No, but you could own me, for a night, for a necklace." She whispered, though whether shame, or his hand lowered her volume he couldn't say.

Basic decency made him speak. "Are you sure you want that? I have some issues with the aristocracy that I would love to work out on your lily white hide."

"I can take anything you dish out, peasant." She answered, her blue eyes sparking back at him, her arrogance back.

"We'll see about that—" Sulmad began

"After I have my necklace." Alma interrupted him for the first time.

"After you have your necklace." He released her throat. She took a deep breath and relaxed slightly. Rough hands grabbed her large breasts. She gasped. "These will be mine." He pulled her forward by her tits, against him, and grabbed a handful of firm ass. "This will be mind. His other hands bunched her dress up, revealing an expanse of creamy white leg. "I'll flip up this skirt, bend you over that desk and bugger you until you beg me to let you cum. Is that what you want?" He asked, holding the suddenly disheveled noblewoman against him.

"That's what you'll get if you retrieve my necklace."

"Hmm..." Sulmad weighed the options. He needed to go to the village anyway. A squeeze of her ass reassured him there was fun to be had here and working out some of his frustrations with the nobility might be good therapy. And fun. This time he moved slowly, pulling her across the room and bending her over the desk. She didn't resist.

"After." She said.

"Of course. But I have to inspect the merchandise, don't I?" Sulmad asked innocently.

"But—"

"Only an idiot accepts something in payment without a thorough inspection." He overrode her. "That's a dealbreaker for me."

"Fine." She said, shoving herself off the table and shrugging off her dress with surprising ease. Though she might have traded in her fine clothes for supplies, her underwear hadn't gotten the same treatment. It was fine matching set of red shimmersilk, partially transparent, flashes of pussy and breast appeared only to vanish as her movements shifted the angle the material interacted with the hut's one light. "Well, well, well, when you picked out that underwear, you knew someone was going to be ripping it off you. Did you plan for it to be someone like me?"

"Don't be crass." Alma said, struggling to unhook the complicated bra.

"Why not? I am. Here I'll get the bra, you lose those panties so we can get a good look at what I'll be fucking." Sulmad commanded, walking around behind her so he had a good look at the latch. 

"If you bring back my necklace." Alma added, wiggling out of the soft panties and letting them fall to the floor as Sulmad undid her bra. Her shoes were sensible flats that she was able to kick off, as they weren't quite the right size.

Sulmad circled her, examining her as if she were a slave up for auction, or a whore he was considering hiring. She blushed, her mind having a hard time categorizing him as just another irrelevant peasant when she was naked before him and he prowled around her like a Savrip circling wounded prey.

"These are good." He groped her breasts, each more than filling a hand. "If Yael and I hadn't just had a truly fantastic time, they'd probably get me hard. Or at least, the sight of Lady Alma on her knees, wrapping them around my cock and pumping like a common streetwalker would. Probably." She flushed even more, but didn't say anything. "Of course, the fact that you like and are like that hardly surprises me." She opened her mouth and he spoke over her. "You're dripping down your leg, you must be able to feel it." She shut her mouth again, though she was now so bright red he was actually worried his prize might spontaneously combust before he got to fuck it.

He circled her, stopping behind and running a calloused finger along the soft skin of her back. The handful of weeks in the camp hadn't had a chance to effect her body the way it had affected her wardrobe. A firm slap set her ass to jiggling and her mouth to making a sharply cut off command. 

"All right." He said. She started to reach for her clothes. "Let's move on to the final check. Bend over the desk." She froze. "I'm not going to fuck you until I give you the necklace, if I accept the job. But I need to know what I'm getting for my work. After all, that Cathar was so tight I felt like she was trying to shrink my dick." Sulmad explained 

"Whatever you have to tell yourself." Alma whispered striding over to the desk. She was no longer twitching that fine ass under his nose.

"You know, if I didn't want to avoid sullying my time with Yael with sordid memories of you, then I might be willing to give you what you wanted and fuck you now." Sulmad said as she bent over, hands on the desk, at about a forty five degree angle. Her blonde hair was tightly bound against the back of her head.

"I don't want—" She began, though she didn't turn around.

"Whatever you have to tell yourself." He echoed, following her to the desk. Alma's back was an expanse of white skin, unmarred by anything. The hourglass form her unattractive clothing had concealed was revealed in all its glory to the unimpressed Sulmad's eyes. He hadn't lied. She might have been embarrassed but her cunt was leaking like an improperly secured tent, in a monsoon. She could feel it, even if she hadn't felt the stirring in her stomach that went along with it.

He ran his hands up and down each leg for no particular reason, before moving up, skipping over the fun (or funner) parts for now. Fingers seemed to leave trails of fire on her skin as they ran up to her head. They picked apart her carefully arranged hairdo. She could feel it tumbling around her shoulders. "Shorter than I'd like." Sulmad muttered to himself. Before Alma could say anything he grabbed a handful of her golden tresses and pulled hard, yanking her off balance and grinding her cunt and ass against his groin. "But it makes an all right handle." He noted, releasing her hair and shoving her forward with a sharp pelvic thrust.

His cock wasn't even hard. She could feel that. For some reason it made her wetter and determined to get him hard. That alien cunt couldn't be better than a Human. Period.

She let herself fall against the desk, tits pressing against the rough plastic. Her legs fell apart in a manner that had been trained out of her as a child, but revealed her dripping cunt and ass. Delightfully disheveled was the look she was going for and she was awfully close.

Sulmad stepped forward, and pinned her there with one hand in the small of her back, while the other drew little circles on her ass. "Skin's soft. A result of a lifetime in the shade, watching other people work." He noted.

The silence demanded an answer. She opened her mouth to provide one and he drove his pointer and middle fingers into her, all the way down to the hand and ground his clenched ring finger and pinky against her clit. Hard.

"What are you doing?" Alma asked, twisting back so she could look and inadvertently changing the angle of his penetration, sending additional pleasure signals to what remained to that pleasure, embarrassment and hate soaked organ.

"I assumed you wanted my fingers lubed up before I checked how tight your ass was." Sulmad explained, twisting his fingers and pulling them free, provoking a moan, not a response. He wiped them off on her back. "But if you prefer me to go in dry..." Spreading her ass was the work of a moment, listening to her objections took a bit longer.

It served its purpose, this time as he played with her cunt, taking the time to thoroughly coat each finger and pound her roughly. Simultaneously he played with her clit. If she'd had the presence of mind to ask, he would have excused this as an action necessary to ensure sufficient lubrication. But his hands on her, the situation and the posture had driven the arrogant noblewoman to the edge. 

And then he stopped. Without thinking, her own hands rushed to take his place, to shove herself over the edge. Noble fingers did one of the few pieces of work they were expert in. And low moans ripple from her throat as she drove herself towards her orgasm. Just at the moment that she came, Sulmad ruined it for her, with three little words. "Enjoying yourself, whore?"

He left her, empty of all but her title.



SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot 04



 Prologue: 
A Royal Buggering


Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously.



Separatist corpses littered the village. Though they were competent individual fighters, they didn't work well together and they expected folks to come at them straight on. Sulmad was not a fan of straight on (though he was of straight sex). Striking from hiding, then ambushing the team that tried to rescue their already deceased comrades, he'd left a trail of bodies in his wake. The surviving Separatists had been sent to the perimeter, sure that this was some sort of distraction from the main Republic attack, giving the smuggler free rein within the village.

Finding the hut was simple enough, as was figuring out how the necklace had been lost. The poor maid who'd been carrying it was dead, her body stripped and visibly abused. Alma hadn't mentioned a servant, but the twisted brand on her shoulder, shaped exactly like the necklace he'd been sent to find and obviously far older than the wounds that lined her corpse, made it difficult to come to any other conclusion. Though, he mused as he searched the hut for his prize, she might have been someone Alma sent before hiring him. 

The necklace was in sight when something triggered his paranoia. He couldn't have said what it was, but, blaster in hand, he was facing the door before he even realized he'd drawn the damn thing. An alien stepped out of the shadows, hands high and away from its body. "Peace, peace, we're on the same side." It burbled, though only Sulmad's translator let him identify those sounds as having that meaning.

"Really? Cause since I got to this rock, I ain't had a side, just folks who're shooting at me and folks who ain't. Yet." Sulmad said, accent thick, playing the stupid pirate for all he was worth. People said things in front of the stupid and they bribed the criminal. Coin, in credits, or information was a high priority at the moment, with an alien of unknown loyalty and ability between him and the only exit.

The alien explained, slowly, that he was worked for the SIS (Republic Intelligence) and that Alma was an Imperial agent. The necklace she valued so highly was actually a specially constructed communications tool that let her talk to her Imperial handlers, so the alien wanted it.

Sulmad's annoyance at being fooled was carefully hidden behind a mask of patriotism and concern. "So she's not really a noble?" He asked, as if he was disappointed at losing out on a chance to serve his betters.

"She is." The alien admitted. "Recruited by Imperial Intelligence. Apparently her strong pro-Human views made her an excellent candidate."

"Anti-alien, you mean. I noticed them myself in passing." Sulmad corrected.

The alien shrugged, not bothering to point out that they weren't anti-alien to him.

"Wouldn't it be smarter to bug the thing? Then you could wrap up the whole network." Sulmad offered, his libido rather enjoying the notion of giving both a noble and a traitor the right buggering they so richly deserved.

"We don't have the equipment here—but there is a Separatist communication's node in the center of the village, they'd have the stuff we need." The alien suddenly said.

"I'll get it. I know what to look for." Sulmad said, holstering his blaster at last.

"Good."

"Oh. Two things. I expect to be well paid for this."

"Of course." The alien agreed.

"And if you stab me in the back, I'll shoot you in the face."

"Fair enough."

The trip to and from the communication's center was even more unpleasant. Though most of the guards were still on the perimeter their only link to the outside world was heavily defended. A borrowed uniform and a nasty attitude got him inside, where he stole the equipment, constructed a make-shift bomb and fled before its uncertain timer went off, lighting up the night sky.

With the Separatists busy, Sulmad and the alien had plenty of time to bug the necklace and seal it back up. After making a down payment, the alien vanished as quietly as he'd come, leaving Sulmad to curse the fact that the first Republic spy he'd met (as far as he knew) wasn't a smoking hot woman out to fuck secrets out of him using super secret spy sex techniques. On the other hand, Alma's ass awaited him back at the refugee camp.

A few precautions, a little blaster fire and much sneaking later, Sulmad arrived back at the camp. After taking a nap (and collecting his pay for blowing up the communication's center from the Republic) and a few precautions he headed down to the refugee camp to pay the pretty traitor a visit.

Alma followed him into her hut this time and closed the door carefully behind her, leaving the local who was trying to chat her up to her own devices. The brunette had shot Sulmad a dirty look that he returned. Though his version of dirty and hers were quite different. 

"You have what you were sent for?" She asked, pretending that she hadn't forced herself to cum on her own fingers in front of them during the last business meeting and this one wasn't going to end with her ass being filled with his cock.

"Of course."

"And it is?" She prodded gently, a courtesy he didn't intend to extend to her.

"Elsewhere." The holocamera he held up revealed the necklace in a nondescript box that could have been anywhere. 

"Why isn't it here? We had a deal." Ice filled her tone, in a way that might have made him think her an ice queen, if he hadn't watched her flame burn away all that ice.

"Because I think we both know that you weren't planning to hold up your end." Sulmad said.

"Wh—"

Sulmad shoved her backwards against the wall, hard. "You were going to have me get all hot and bothered and then cry rape, with the necklace already around your neck. The only thing I want to know was if that was always the plan, or if it came to you after I embarrassed you earlier? Or, to use your parlance, put you in your place."

"I don't know what you're—" Alma began, she licked lips which begged for a cock between them.

"Lie to me again and you get nothing from me." Sulmad said.

Her blue eyes swept over him. "All right. It was always the plan." Acid dripped from her voice.

"Because a peasant would never see it coming. And his freedom, well what does that matter? It's not like he's a person. We're done here, whore." Sulmad said, turning on his heel.

She caught his arm and after a complicated moment found herself bent double, with her arm bent at an unpleasant angle. "You won." She whispered.

"I always do. I've got the necklace and you've got nothing. Good day."

"No. I mean, you can fuck my ass if you want." She whispered even more quietly.

"And how do you propose to guarantee that you won't betray me afterwards?"

"I give you my word." She snapped.

"You already betrayed me once. Your word is worthless, whore." 

"Turn on the camera." She suggested.

"What and provide the evidence against—" 

"Turn it on and let me go." Alma commanded with a shake of her bright red head.

He shrugged, releasing her and framing her pale visage in the viewfinder.

"My name is Lady Alma and I am about to have myself fucked in the ass, in exchange for the necklace of my family." Blue eyes glanced at Sulmad and continued when he waved her onward. "I am acting as a whore, in this instance for a common mercenary." He waved her ever onward and her eyes began to narrow, but she continued. "An action that does not sit entirely unhappily in my loins as the down payment involved an extremely rare orgasm on my part." Sulmad mimed a movement and Alma pulled her top down, revealing her bra covered breasts. Under his stern gaze, she pulled down the bra awkwardly revealing her magnificent breasts. Sulmad laughed and sent the file off to himself, before putting the camera down on the desk and moving forward. She probably thought the camera was off. It wasn't.

Alma's face was a mask, whose only cracks were the hot red rage and humiliation that made her blush furiously. "Now, I believe I said that I wanted to see those funbags of yours wrapped around this cock, my lady." Sulmad said, taking a seat in the only chair and loosing his cock from the armored trousers he'd...acquired on the raid.

Alma started to pull off her dress, but a stern word from the smuggler stopped her. "No, my lady. Keep it on. I'll remove what I want from you." The sarcasm in her title was fire to her explosive pride, but all she did was kneel between his open legs and wrap her beautiful breasts around his cock.

Proud blue eyes looked up at him as she began to bounce on his cock, giving him the first titjob of her privileged life. A rough hand reached past those eyes to undo her sever hair style and pull it forward, so it fell between her breast, it's silken softness just whispering against the head of his cock when she was at the low point in her bouncing. Her own hands were busy supporting her breasts and mashing them together around his dick, forming an almost air tight seal. When Sulmad leaned back, she looked down at her breasts, surrounding the cock that would soon be in her ass and considered various ways of lubing it up, as she was no longer certain that was his intent. With her eyes off him, he repositioned the camera, making sure it caught every second of the noblewoman's self-degradation.

"That alien bitch couldn't do this, not with those tiny tits of hers." Alma said to herself.

"She had other attributes." Sulmad countered. "You ever felt a Cathar's fur, so soft, like a million kisses, all over my skin, my lady."

Alma bent, taking his cock all the way down her throat to the root in a single lunge and swirled her tongue around, coating every inch of his meat in saliva. "Maybe I'll have a coat made from it when I get home." She snapped when she'd pulled back.

Sulmad was hard enough and annoyed enough that he pulled her off his cock and bent her over the desk, right next to the camera which framed her pretty, if disheveled face with an 'accidental' nudge. "Now, my bad, bad lady, I'm sure your cunt is already dripping, after all this is so humiliating for a lady of your station. Do you want me to use some of that lube to get into your ass, or do you want to trust the spit?" Sulmad asked, holding her against the desk, his cock grinding against her fully dressed ass in a way that suggested she better answer pretty fast if she didn't want him to fuck her through her clothes.

"Yes."

"What, my lady?" Sulmad asked, the very model of a hard of hearing gentleman at a very loud ball.

"Yes, please."

"No, which of the choices did you want, my lady?" He clarified, running his hands down the side of her body, enjoying the brief swell of her breasts before coming to rest just above her ass and beginning to scrunch up her skirt.

She knew what he wanted and that he wasn't giving up until she said it. "Please use my wet pussy juice to lube up my ass." She asked.

"Since my lady asked so nicely." He flipped her skirt all the way up, careful not to obscure the camera's view and pulled aside, but not down, her panties. The dripping maw of her cunt begged for cock.

He answered that plea with a single deep thrust of his own. The sensation blinded her for a moment before she exclaimed that he was in the wrong hole. 

"Oh, did you think I was going to use my fingers? After how you reacted during the test run, my lady, I didn't think that was a good idea. Wouldn't want you to cum this early in the proceedings. Now without begging properly." Sulmad said, catching her hands and pinning them against the desk. "Grab there and don't move your hands, my lady." His voice brooked no disobedience and she grabbed the edge of the desk, holding on for dear life as he pounded her cunt roughly.

The fact that she was almost fully dressed and yet everything the smuggler wanted from her was on display made her box ache. He used her like disparate parts that amused him. A noble mind to be toyed with, breasts to tease, a cunt to fuck and an ass to cum in. That fact, though it wasn't phrased in that way in her sex-addled mind, damn near made her cum right there.

Sulmad noticed and pulled out of her in a single smooth motion and guided the head of his cock against her ass. "Now, you're obviously no virgin, at least in your pussy and mouth, though that titfuck was a bit half assed. What about this ass you've been so kind as to sell to me, my lady. Has it ever had a nice sausage, literal or figurative stuffed up it, or am I taking another of your virginities?" He asked, the mixture of formal and crude making her twist against him in a delightful fashion.

"No penis has been in my derriere before." She answered obliquely.

"Oh-ho, my lady, you gave me half an answer, that's worth..." He shoved himself forward, sliding in with surprising (or perhaps not so surprising as the brief, if rough fucking had covered his dick in the warm, wet all natural lubricant, that the tiny, businessman portion of his mind was coming up with a jingle for) ease. She was a noblewoman. She did not scream. Her mouth opened, her throat worked, but the only sound that came out was a whimper. Under Sulmad's hands, the cheap plastic of the desk might have been in serious danger, in the manicured hand of Lady Alma, all that happened was she hurt her palm.

"Obviously you've had something up here before, my lady." He said, in a manner that was almost a compliment. Rough hands pulled her forward so he could get at her pussy from underneath, between her thighs and the desk and tickled her clit. Teeth snapped shut, now she was struggling not to moan. She was Lady Alma, she would not—

A swift jerk yanked her back, ramming the last four inches or so of cock into her guts like a sledgehammer. The muscles in her jaw jumped as the pressure behind them could crack teeth, but she didn't scream, or moan, or beg. Though whether she would have begged him to stop, or begged for more, not even she could have said with any honesty.

Sulmad let his face relax. There was nothing to hide here, no feelings to hide from a woman planning to betray him, no mercenary to hide behind the face of a hero, in a lot of ways, this was the most honest sex he'd had since the last time he'd visited a whore. It was hate sex. He hated her; she hated him and they were going to fuck each other into oblivion. His face revealed contempt, arousal, amusement and a deep satisfaction that is not unfamiliar to anyone whose had a chance to bugger the chosen representative of a group that has deeply offended him.

He was done playing with her mind, now it was time to fuck it out. Her ass was tight. She hadn't been lying about that at least. Though it might have had a servant's tongue or a delicate tool up there, nothing as large as his cock had been allowed entrance. One hand wrapped in her hair, the other playing with her clit, he fucked her as hard as he possibly could. The hand in her hair pulled, hard enough to arch her back and send another burst of signals along her confused and distracted nervous system, but not hard enough to make her let go of the desk.

The sound of flesh on flesh filled the hut. It was probably audible outside too. Sulmad grinned to himself as he thought of that poor brunette, wondering where she'd gone wrong that she was outside and he was balls deep in the blonde's butt.

The thought of inviting her in and letting her have a go at the noble whore made his balls twitch. His mind ran away with him, other notions coming to mind. Ryn had tamed that Rodian well enough that the bitch had apologized, getting down on her knees and sucking him off right there in the bar (no one could deep throat a cock quite like a Rodian), zipped him back up and covered his bar tab for the night. He wondered what the alien woman could do with a born slut with a bad attitude like Lady Alma. She kept her title, even in his mind, for the same reason she'd kept most of her clothes, the effect turned him on.

Indeed, the effect, the thoughts and, of course, the ass fucking, were making his balls twitch. And though Alma was right there with him, it was too early. She was ready to cum, but not ready to beg.

Sulmad's hands moved, releasing her and shoving her forward, so she sprawled on the desk. "Let go, my lady." He commanded.

"I can't. You stopped rubbing me." Lady Alma said, her voice hoarse with need that she did not otherwise express.

"Of the desk, my lady, if you would be so good." He clarified, as if they were meeting in an office, and he didn't have seven or eight inches of cock up her bum.

Her hands let go, slowly, as they'd grown attached to the plastic. "Look at me." He ordered.

She twisted so her flushed face was to him, carefully making no move to lose her grip on his cock. Like the rest of her, sweat beaded it. Her lips were parted slightly and though he longed to shove his cock straight from her ass to her mouth, an indignity that would surely startle the noblewoman by its mere existence, he instead wrapped both arms around her leg and lifted her in the same direction she'd twisted, spinning her over.

The sensation on his cock was not altogether different from that of her tongue swirling around it earlier. Merely infinitely warmer, tighter and nastier. All of which were good things in Sulmad's book. Alma had squeaked at the maneuver which brought her face to face with almost fully clothed peasant who was fucking her so savagely. "Get to work on that cunt, my lady." Sulmad commanded as he spread her legs, one on either side of him and let them fall.

She would have blushed brighter if she could, but her hands fell on her pussy with the grateful glee of a starving man who has suddenly stumbled over a feast. Now using her breasts as handholds, Sulmad resumed fucking her ass, setting up a steady rhythm that her body got used to as Lady Alma focused on controlling the stiff fingers that were bringing her so much pleasure.

Sulmad stopped moving. Lady Alma didn't. Her body was in the zone. She was almost there. A quiet command failed to stop those hands. A rough grip didn't. The beautiful aristocrat was buggering him with her ass as he pinned her hands to the desk. "Want my cock that badly, my lady? Keep going then." He said.

She was past hearing. Now she was fucking it harder, because it was the only sensation left, he'd stolen all the rest and she needed sensation more than life, more than breath, more than her necklace and finally, Sulmad would have sworn he saw the moment that she needed relief more than she needed her dignity.

A single hand pinned her hands above her head and the other pushed hard enough on her stomach to keep the slim woman from sodomizing herself further. She whined like an animal in distress. "Beg for it." He commanded. The absence of the 'my lady' hung in the air like the most vicious of slurs.

Her pride was already broken. She begged like the hungriest urchin of the street, even if her accent was still posh and her vocabulary could really use some work. The translator implant kept up with the flood of liquid syllables that was her native language as he seemed to have fucked any other language right out of her empty little blonde head. As had any knowledge of their deal. She begged for the chance to feel his seed in her womb, to carry his child, to have a little piece of him, her master with her always. Sulmad would have sworn up and down that her tongue would jump out of that head before it framed the word 'master.'

With the loss of pride, came the loss of honor. She tried everything she could think of to make herself cum, even as she begged. Twisting, writhing, kicking, pulling with her legs and eyes and tits (only the first literally) and begging, she was a true delight, if far from the prim and proper noblewoman he'd first met. Only the head of his cock was in her ass and despite her best and most creative efforts, she couldn't get it any further in. When her pleas and curses shifted out of her native and into her Basic he realized that he was starting to lose her.




SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot 04



"Very well. I'll give you what you beg for, whore." He said, making sure it was caught on the camera. Brutal thrusts filled her ass again and again as the hand that had been on her sweat slicked stomach reached up to tease breasts and tweak nipples. The hand holding her equally slippery wrists slid down, providing a brace so he wouldn't fuck her into the wall. Not that that was a big concern as she was humping him almost as hard as he was humping her. An impressive feat for a woman whose idea of exercise was watching the gardeners at work.

The rough treatment forced her over the edge. That term isn't accurate though, it wasn't a nudge over the edge into the abyss of pleasure, it was more like being launched from a cannon, aboard a ship, firing into a black hole of ecstasy. Her screams, even muffled by a hastily placed hand, made him worry about someone coming in. And then they made him fantasize about someone coming in, which helped, almost as much as the bountiful breasts bouncing against his arm as she ground down upon his cock, rubbing her clit against his armored shirt. Whatever part of her brain was still functioning didn't notice that her hands were free, so they stayed above her head as she twisted and turned, swimming in an orgasm that went on in all directions forever. There was no escape and she didn't want to escape.

And that was too much. Her surrender was complete and the peasant hidden in Sulmad's soul smiled at the noblewoman whoring her ass out to him. His cock did a lot more than smile. Alma, no longer Lady Alma, went nuts as she felt him empty himself into her bowels. Strong hands were latched down on her breasts, pinning herself against him, so he filled her completely as he came. 

That moment of conquest, of ownership and mastery of an aristocrat was worth all the trouble. 

On the other hand, she was a traitor, as well as a noble.

The evil smile that crossed the smuggler's face would have warned the noble if her blue eyes had been open. And if they hadn't been vacant as she was still lost in her own pleasure. As his cock softened in her ass and cum began to leak out of her, no longer fully plugged butt, Sulmad produced a small pen from one pocket as the other hand prolonged her orgasm with, it had to be said, rough efficiency.

In a large, clear hand, he wrote a few words on her chest. He got the pen away just as her eyes opened and began to clear. Pulling out produced an inarticulate moan that quickly turned into a barely articulate question. He ignored it and slid her expensive red shimmersilk panties back over her pussy and ass, sealing in his cum. Rough grinding of his cock against her recovered cunt produced moans and a much cleaner, if not noticeably drier, dick, which he tucked away.

Sulmad bent over the desk, his green eyes meeting her blue ones. Their deal was done. The kiss he took was stolen. But he was a criminal, after all. She didn't resist when he plundered her red lips as thoroughly as he had her pert ass. "I told you, you'd beg." He whispered when he pulled back.

Her slap was ineffective, being at the wrong angle and coming from a body so exhausted it could barely move. The return slap was more effective. Though his control meant he didn't break any of her bones, or teeth, or even cut her lip. Sulmad didn't like leaving serious marks. He was leaving when her eyes uncrossed.

"My necklace!" She groaned from the floor.

"I gave you directions." Sulmad pointed at her chest, one hand on the hut's door.

"Where?"

"That's what the directions are for, whore. Heh, I'm a poet and you're a whore. Whoops that didn't rhyme. Oh, well."

"Where are the directions?" She asked through clenched teeth, though she made no move to cover herself, or even rub the red handprint on her cheek.

He pointed wordlessly at her chest. She looked down and cursed with more creativity than she'd thought she possessed as she saw the permenant black ink tattooing her breasts.

"I don't have a mirror!" She whined.

"I'm sure anyone who sees it will be happy to read it to you. And do other things to you." He said, admiring his handiwork. "The brunette you were talking to earlier might be a good choice, she's got good hands. I bet she could have you cumming in no time, though she's not very big...rope might be helpful there." He smirked at her and stalked away, not bothering to close the door behind him.



SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot 05



SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot: Prologue: A Famous Face

Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously. 

Lamalla Rann licked full lips as she spoke. After insulting, waving away and finally attempting to hire the smuggler, she was now negotiating. A bit of seduction never went awry, except when it did. But that could be fun too.

"You Alderaanian nobility?" Sulmad asked sharply.

The reporter blinked at the non sequitur. He waved a hand at her hairstyle. The twin braids, wrapped up and around the sides of her head like brown half spheres was a unique and well known style. Even in the underworld. 

"No. But it helps get people to take me seriously."

"Ah, well, infiltrating a heavily defended enemy facility and stealing back the data you lost for a handful of credits and a look at you licking your lips helps people not take me seriously." Sulmad countered.

"Do you know how I got this job? Seeing as I'm not nobility?" Lamalla asked.

"I'm guessing you didn't work hard and go to a good school." 

"No. I got down on my knees and sucked off the hiring officer. Then the producer, then the head of the company. Now, I'd have done it for free. You should have seen me in school. Hell, you probably have, some of the holos are still real popular on the porn market. You just don't recognize me cause I've had some work done."

"Five." Sulmad said.

"Five." She agreed, spitting on her hand. Sulmad caught her wrist and pulled the hand to his cock.

"One as down payment, four as payment."

She glanced around the empty Mannett Beach. "Someone could see."

"I'd have thought that was part of the fun for you, seeing how you talked about the porn you did."

"That wasn't with my face." She protested weakly, sliding to her knees already. High, firm breasts that were obviously sculpted by surgery, not genetics pressed against him as she knelt before him. Her words and actions were at odds. So he ignored the former.

A jerk let Sulmad release his slowly hardening cock. It fell out and smacked her in the face. Any woman as experienced as Lamalla would have smelled the other woman, no, the other women, on that cock, despite rudimentary attempts at hygiene. 

Her complaints vanished, along with his cock, down her throat.

She'd always enjoyed sucking cock. So much so that when she used the wealth she'd...acquired, to get a new face, she had a few additions made so she could enjoy it even more. The nerve link between her mouth and her cunt was supposed to be turned off when she wasn't sucking someone off. The off switch had never worked properly. Lamalla didn't mind, it made anything she did with her mouth an intensely pleasant and erotic experience. It was one of the reasons she talked so damn fast. Admittedly it also meant she was permanently horny and often orgasmed while talking to people, or, even better, giving a news report. But as she'd been permanently horny as far back as she could remember and the orgasms were, well, orgasms she didn't complain.

At least when she wasn't effortlessly deepthroating eight inches of cock. She hadn't bothered to have them remove her gag reflex as she'd learned to suppress it years earlier.

Hands kept soft by moisturizer and masturbation massaged his balls and every inch of his shaft that wasn't, at that moment, being entertained by her tongue and tight throat. Ruby lips formed a vacuum seal around his cock slurping on it like it was the last popsicle on Tattoine. 

Sulmad pulled off his glove and dropped a hand to the head of the woman on her knees before him. One eye kept a wary watch on the beach as his other hand rested on the butt of his blaster. Too many mercs he'd known had gone out in the bathroom, or balls deep in some bitch for him to relax fully in any unsecured location. But, as his cock twitched in the famous woman's throat, he had to admit it was fun, even if exhibitionism wasn't usually one of his kinks. Certainly not to the extent it obviously was Lamalla's.

Since her mouth was full, the burden of conversation fell solely on him. He stroked her hair like she was a pet. "You know, I won't be on Ord Mantel long. It might be hard to find time for four more blowjobs. Even ones as good as this—" Sulmad began.

Nailed fingers grabbed his ass, forcing even more of him into her mouth and forcing a gasp from his mouth as she managed to get both testicles in her mouth. The Rodian slut had also managed it, but the angle of her snout meant that the pressure had been from a different angle and even more, it hadn't been anything like as impressive. Lamalla had blocked off every possible spot of air as she held his ass, forcing him deeper, sacrificing her breath to give him pleasure.

Her brown eyes locked on his green ones, almost hypnotically. Finally, after a time that would have shamed many a spacer, she pulled back and took a deep, shuddering breath. Saliva ran from her ridiculously full lips to the cock that dangled before her, hard as a rock. "You sure? About that?" She gasped, her attempts to get her wind back turning it into two questions. Despite that, her hands had swung around to take over for her mouth, jerking and massaging. 

"It would be hard, but it might be worthwhile. On the other hand, so might other things." He said, guiding her with no particular gentleness back to his cock. "Visiting your main offices for instance. I think I would enjoy making you suck me off in the bathroom just before you were due to give a report. Watching you pontificate with a belly full of my cum, well I might actually watch the news." She glared at him, but he could see her nipples hardening through her shirt. "Now, if you were wearing my seed on your face, that I would definitely watch. Could be a whole new market segment. Not for you, obviously, but for your network."

One hand slipped from his balls to caress herself at that thought. 

"Maybe something a little more intimate. I know a bar frequented by the local ladies, when they're looking for a little female companionship. Why, I bet there wouldn't be anyone at all in the gentlemen's room, but everyone would know. They'd see you go in, they'd hear you slobbering all over my cock, they'd know what you were doing and what you are. Tell me, would you mind if I sold one of my servicing to one of those ladies? Watching that might well be worth it and I know some who aren't so bad off that they couldn't come up with some serious credits for a crack at those lips."

Her glare was softer than it should have been, given that he was offering to pimp her out. But it's hard to glare and frig yourself mercilessly at the same time and the latter had priority in her mind. 

"Oh, I just had a naughty notion. I could unspool those braids of yours and tie them back around my ass, holding you down on this meatstick. Even better! I could use one to bind your hands behind your back and the other to make you suck. Not that you need any help in that department." The possible double meaning of that escaped her at that moment. Probably this was because she had four fingers in her pussy, but the fact that Sulmad was groping her sculpted breasts like there was no tomorrow didn't hurt.

Words and images of herself, used, sold, bound and cumming, always, endlessly cumming pushed her to the edge. The relentless pounding of his cock in her nerve-enhanced throat, along with the fingers in her, needed-no-nerve-enhancements cunt, was rapidly driving the nympho journalist over the edge. Long years of experience (and she came more in a day than most managed in a month) let her recover quickly. Indeed, it forced her to recover quickly. Which was one reason she was on her knees before the not entirely hygienic mercenary.

"I'll take that orgasm at the very notion as an agreement to my ideas." Sulmad said, self-satisfaction visible. If only barely, seeing as how what was most visible was pleasure.

Brown eyes fixed on the hand that was still resting on the butt of his blaster. While she had no intention of double crossing the scarred and scary smuggler, she was damned if he was going to give one of her galaxy famous blowjobs and her extremely expensive breasts only half his attention. 

Tightening her lips and swirling her tongue, Lamalla Rann, reporter extraordinaire focused all her considerable skill on making that hand drop. Her head was a blur, while one hand unsnapped her shirt, revealing an expensive (and see-through) black bra and an expanse of tanned skin an acre of cleavage and a pair of nipples, hard as diamond under his ever more intent eyes. 

The question that he usually would have asked disappeared unasked when he realized that he didn't care and the answer had to be yes and that it was too late. She'd seen the signs, but kept going at full tilt on that cock. Both rough hands grabbed her head, shoving it down against his armor as he shot a fairly small load directly into her stomach. Delicately, she licked his cock, careful of its suddenly oversensitive mood. Sulmad stumbled back, but recovered almost as quickly as the nympho at his feet. A swift, almost angry gesture shoved his cock away. "That's one down and three planned." He pulled her to her feet. "Next time I'll tell you about the other two, but I can tell you that at least one of them is going to have me coming all over these babies." He groped her breasts. 

"If you're going to get frisky, we can make it two up front." Lamalla offered with a bright smile.

"No thanks." He gave her firm ass an even firmer slap as he walked past, making her jump. "Half the fun will be that you won't know when I'm stopping by to collect."

The smuggler swaggered off, leaving a reporter who was horny as ever, but a bit happier. And a lot more nervous.



SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot 06



SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot: Prologue: 

Mechanical Monstrosities Need Love Too. As Do Their Mechanics.

Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously.



Sulmad patted down the corpse and smiled when he found the last part Celestra needed to repair the generator. He also found a couple of credits and a Separatist ID card on the poor bastard who'd tried to fight him. There was a man in the fort who bought the ID cards. Sulmad didn't know why. On consideration, he'd decided he didn't want to know. None of the options were good and if the worst one (he was collecting names, for payback on their families after the war) was right, he'd feel the need to intervene and that would cause trouble as the man was a high ranking Republic bureaucrat. 

A quiet and careful jog back to the generator (he thought he'd caught them all, but the Separatists had a disconcerting habit of appearing out of thin air, without even the courtesy of a stealth belt) brought him into sight of Celestra's deliciously padded rear waving in the air as she continued to work with the parts that hadn't been looted. Upon spying him (when he dumped the parts at her feet, okay, actually right in front of her face, situational awareness was not a priority for the engineer) she let out a squeal of happiness which contrasted impressively with the tall, slightly plump woman's general air of stoic seriousness.

Calloused hands grabbed the parts and began the intricate work of repairing the heavy generator and installing the shields that would keep out any Separatists planning a return trip. A thrumming sound indicated that the latter part was done, though the generator itself continued to whine in an angry manner that suggested that the overload continued to approach. And now, Sulmad noted to himself, he was trapped inside, with the about to explode generator. Excellent.

"Damnit, Damnit, Damnit!" She whispered. Exactly the sound you wanted to hear from the woman working to keep you alive. 

Sulmad didn't say anything. He didn't distract medics when they were patching him up, either, as he wasn't an idiot.

Long minutes of frantic working, during which the whine only grew in intensity, made remaining silent a difficult trick, but he managed, until she spoke up again. "I need help." She said with surprising hesitancy. It's not like he was going to say no, given the circumstances.

"What can I do?" Sulmad asked.

"When I'm facing a really difficult problem, I need, well, you met my droid?"

"Yes. He sent me here." The 'and this has what to do with what you need me to do to help you keep us alive?' went unsaid, but clearly heard.

"He fucks me. It helps me focus." She said baldly as the machine's whine took on an even higher pitch.

Sulmad almost said something unkind. Then he almost said something sarcastic. Then he almost asked a silly question. Instead, he stepped forward, behind her waggling behind. "It would be my pleasure to help such a lovely woman focus." He said, sincerity dripping from his voice, into a not-at-all sarcastic puddle on the floor.

"Thank you." Sulmad could hear the engineer's blush, both at the fact that she'd been revealed as one of the perverts who has sex with droids (it wasn't uncommon, but it was widely regarded as degenerate behavior) and that she was asking an almost total stranger to have sex with her.

Sulmad filled his mind with images of Alma in the stocks of his homeworld as men and women waited patiently in line to fuck her, after he'd finished, of course; of Lamalla on her knees, wantonly frigging herself as she sucks his cock before her board of directors; of Ryn fucking that Rodian bitch with her lekku while he sodomized her roughly from behind while she begged for more. That, and the swaying ass in front of him got his cock stiffening as she swung open the hatch that covered her ass and her pussy covered by a brown bush trimmed into a heart shape. 

A gloved finger discovered her pussy was already soaked and her ass was firmer than he would have guessed from looking at her (there must have been serious muscle under that padding). Danger, rage, fear, all of these arouse some people. Though, from her description, frustration probably did more to get her hot than anything else. And she was certainly frustrated. Her droid's attachment must not have been particularly large, because while she purred for the first five inches, the last three provoked a gasp. Taking that as a hint, his subsequent thrusts were shallow as strong hands held her in place.

Usually he rather enjoyed the bouncy effect a hard doggy-style fuck had on a woman of ample cleavage like the plump engineer, but as she was working to save their lives, he didn't actually want her moving around that much. Suddenly the circular attachment her droid had had strapped to its back made sense. It was to be wrapped around her waist before the droid commenced pounding away.

Under most circumstances, Sulmad preferred an irregular rhythm maybe with a change of position, or a few sudden, unexpected changes or movements, but startling the woman used to fucking a droid, who was working on saving their lives was a stupid idea. Instinct and experience were surprisingly hard to overcome though.

Said control, along with the mechanistic actions made it hard for Sulmad to get into what he was doing and it was making other things less than rock hard. Forcing his mind away from the real, he focused on what could be. With the tape of her admission, and her degradation, Alma could be his whenever he wanted. That was without even considering the fact that she was spy for the empire. Having his own personal blonde aristocrat ice-queen sex-slave appealed to the smuggler. Or maybe it would be better to follow the trail up and see who he could catch.

Imperial Intelligence had to have its share of beautiful women who would be a pleasure to get to know. Maybe one of those Chiss. They were always so reserved, there had to be heat hidden there, somewhere and he was the man to lure it out. Or a Sith. That might be interesting. Electricity could be fun, in moderation. And as a group they were big on indulging their...passions. People ruled by their emotions were always easy to manipulate, especially if they thought they were manipulating you. It might be fun to watch the Sith's face when she discovered that she wasn't corrupting him, so much as he was using her.

In real life, of course, under those circumstances, he'd never let her know. But in the fantasy, her pale features contorted with anger, before she collapsed, poisoned. Sulmad fucked her traitorous apprentice a...Zabrak he decided, all red skin and horns like a sexy demon of older mythology roughly on the couch beside her dying master, plundering the proud Sith of everything, even her apprentice.

An apprentice, addicted to the spice she thought would increase her power, but instead increased her dependence on the man she'd thought of as nothing but a tool. He would ride her and he did mean ride her to the highest levels of Imperial society. Stealing secrets, hearts and cunts alike as he rose to the top, as well as being on top of his master/slave and every other desirable woman in the Emp—

"Got it!" Celestra shouted, victorious at long last, her cunt squeezing down quite hard on his (for her) oversized cock as solving the problem made her cum.

"Wha—Right—Excellent." Sulmad stuttered, jerked from his power trip into the rather disappointing reality (though there was a limit to how disappointed he could be, when he was fucking a woman, voluntarily at least). 

"Could you..." Her voice trailed off.

"Oh. Of course." Sulmad pulled out.

"No! I meant, you could, well, if you wanted to, you could finish yourself off." She whispered, without turning around. Her blushing almost turned her words red. Sulmad wondered to himself just how long her droid was programmed to keep fucking her and whether it was supposed to stop after her first orgasm, as she certainly wasn't reacting as badly as some women he'd known did to having a dick inside them after they'd cum.

"That's very kind of you." She could hear the smirk he didn't bother to hide.

Before she could respond, a hand swept around and rubbed her clit, provoking sudden gasps from the over stimulated engineer. As he thrust back into her, he kept going past the five inch mark, slow and steady, stretching her until her could feel his balls resting against the soaked brown hair that covered her pussy. As she moaned, Sulmad leaned forward taking a firm grip on the older woman's shoulders and began to fuck her in earnest. This time he used every trick he knew, every twitch of the hips, every sudden thrust, every graze of the clit, everything intended to leave his partner in a pleasant, if confused daze. 

To the inexperienced (at least with sentient partners) engineer, it did much more than that. Her moans rapidly turned to screeches as the sensible, professional woman turned into a wailing Cathar, desperate for sex. Growing rougher as she fucked back against him, taking every inch of his cock now and trying to get even more, he grabbed her short hair and used it to pull her up, arching her back as his other hand slapped her pert ass. So distracted was he by the task of breaking through the shy woman's reserve (or as reserved as you could be, with someone's dick in you) that he didn't notice his own orgasm approaching until it was almost there.

"I'm about to cum!" He roared, now grateful for the shield surrounding them. 

"No!" Sulmad froze. "Not in me." He started to explain about the contraceptive implant, but she spoke over him. "On my face, like they do in the porn holos!" She suggested/commanded/begged.

Sulmad gave a mental shrug and pulled out. Celestra rolled over before he could move to help her. One of her strong hands groped her tits, roughly even through the thick fabric of her shirt while the other almost vanished into her sopping pussy. For all that, her black eyes remained fixed on his waving, dripping cock as it approached her face. He stopped above her, kneeling on the machine she'd just fixed (careful of the open panel) and jerked quickly. The first shot reached her collar, leaving a single line across the length of her face, over thin lips and a suddenly closed eye. The next four painted her face in abstract white patterns.

Obedient to what she'd seen in porn holos, she scooped every drop off her face, using both hands. Some went into her mouth and some went into her pussy, along with her free hand. Her nonfree hand wasn't free because it was guiding his cock into her mouth where she cleaned it as best she could, given how inexperienced she was.

"Very good." Sulmad said, rising slowly on suddenly stiff joints.

"I'd say four out of five stars." A female voice said from the corner.

Sulmad's joints may have been stiff, but the blaster appeared in his hand as fast as ever. It disappeared even faster, pulled away from him with an ease that was fucking scary. The knee that followed up had to hit his target, he could tell from the direction of the force, but all he succeeded in doing was bruising himself.

"Nice try." A female Mirialan said. Her green skin had three sets of tattoos going left right and up from a pert nose. Skinny was the word that leapt to mind, though there was obviously muscle under there. Built like a dancer is how a noble of his world would have put it, as the dancers in Sulmad's districts needed bigger tits, unless they were pretending to be younger than was acceptable, even in his district. She twirled his blaster around a finger with an ease that made him unhappy. Or unhappier. Or, as unhappy as he got five seconds after an orgasm. "Captain Wraith, Republic Special Forces, Havoc Squad. You'll forgive me if I don't shake hands."

"Of course." Sulmad purred, in the tone of a man who dives on a grenade, only to discover it's actually made of candy. "And what can we do for you?" He asked, glancing at Celestra. The soldier's eyes didn't follow his. There was no opening to go for the holdout blaster in his boot, or the knife strapped to the back of his neck. 

"Besides put that away?" She waved at his flapping and softening cock, which he tucked away without any particular embarrassment or shame. "Report on the situation."

"Generator repaired. Separatists neutralized. Engineer satisfied. Mercenary paid. Situation optimal." Sulmad replied, mimicking military jargon.

"Good. That's what Havoc Squad likes to hear." Wraith replied.

"Havoc Squad must have heard a lot as there's no way you were outside when the shield went up. So, I get not coming out when you'd have distracted the woman working to save our lives." Said woman was slowly pulling herself together and blushing brightly enough for both of the observed lovers. "But why come out at all, other than to embarrass the good Celestra?"

"A good question. We can discuss the answer over drinks?" Wraith offered.

"Absolutely." Sulmad agreed. "Lead the way."

The Captain returned his blaster and they left (temporarily deactivating the shield) and leaving behind a satisfied and humiliated engineer who was already devising means of payback (in the tiny portion of her mind that wasn't contemplating how to upgrade her droid to fuck her properly and give her nice nutritious facials).



SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot 07



SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot: Prologue:

Green Skinned Soldier Babe

Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously.



The Officer's Club had obviously been a high end lounge before the war. Now commandeered by the Republic Military, Sulmad was only very minorly more comfortable than he would have been in a bar filled with the rich and powerful of Ord Mantel. None of that showed on his face and he certainly wasn't fool enough to even look at his blaster, so surrounded by scary-as-fuck troopers.

The scariest of whom waved him into a booth and took a seat behind him. The Mirialan's green skin clashed horribly with the purple and red décor and her skinny frame looked like it was moments from folding in on itself. Sulmad knew how much that impression was bullshit. She'd ambushed him, taken his weapon like it was nothing and withstood his counterattack with no difficulty, or bruises, unlike himself. Indeed, the small (or not so small) part of him that wasn't busy calculating survival odds (and sex odds, always sex odds) was wondering which of his female acquaintances on this rock would be willing to rub his bruises...

"All right, captain, I'm suitably impressed by your strength, your influence and I'm embarrassed enough to be malleable. Can we get down to business now?" Sulmad asked, pressing back against the feeling of powerlessness with his usual sarcasm. 

A green finger pressed a button and a transparent privacy screen snapped up. Transparent on their side. To the onlookers it was impossible to see, or hear through and for both groups it was impossible to transmit through. "I do apologize if I've embarrassed you with my observation of your little...tryst with the tech. It was certainly not my intention."

"It certainly was. But in that you failed. I'm embarrassed that you snuck up on me and took me down so easily, not that you were voyeuristically spying on me and Celestra fucking." Sulmad explained.

"I am Havoc Squad's infiltration expert."

"How nice for you. I am the captain of a hijacked ship, who is about to have a price on his head larger than the gross planetary product of most fringe worlds, so can we get down to the reason I'm here and not out hunting for Skavak or enjoying another in my endless string of last screws?" Sulmad asked.

"I think that you may be of some use in my mission here. You have connections to the local underworld. Especially if someone was trying to move something off-world, you might hear about it." Wraith said obliquely, both hands vanishing under the table. One appeared just above Sulmad's knee, the other was somewhere else, probably on a weapon.

"If I wanted to hear about it." Sulmad agreed, keeping his voice even and his hands on top of the table.

"The Separatists have something, a stolen something, that the Republic wants back. That I want to get back for them." Her hand slid up his thigh, stopping at his cock and squeezing hard enough that he felt it even through the armor plated pants.

"I'm always eager to help my friends in the Republic. Does this item have any characteristics that might help me find it?" He asked, bringing one arm around her thin shoulders and hugging her close to his side as nimble fingers freed his prick from its armored shell.

"About five meters high, three across, more than ten tons, oh, and leaking radiation like a broken hyperdrive engine." Wraith whispered in his ear, as if they were sweet nothings. Her hand jacked him off under the table with all the grace of the dancer she appeared to the unknowing eye to be.

"Radiation..." Sulmad leaned back enjoying the handjob. "Nothing leaps to mind." Her hand tightened somewhat menacingly and he hurried onward. "But any captain worth their pay will take precautions for a load like that. I know who would be talked to about that sort of thing. I can make some inquiries."

"And what would you like in return for that service?" She asked, white teeth coming to a stop around his ear lobe, though her hand never stopped. 

"I think we both know that you aren't that interested in me." Her hand stopped for a moment. "It was Celestra who got you hot and bothered." She started moving again, quickly, trying to silence his words with pleasure. "The point of this is to master the person who mastered her. I'm just a tool by which you get back at all the straight women who've ignored you over the years."

"I didn't even look at her—" Wraith began.

"You were not looking very loudly. You were watching everything in that room, except for her. Now, I know a few ladies who like ladies and who like power games as well. I'd be happy to make some introductions." Her hand was a blur and the sensation was making it hard to focus, hard to speak. "If you want."

A finger brought down the privacy screen just as she made him cum under the table. After his adventure with Celestra, it was more a dribble than waterfall, but it was enough to make her wipe her hand on a napkin. Sulmad let one hand tuck himself away and zip him back up, conscious that they were back in full view of the bar. "I want." She whispered, tucked into the crook of his arm.

"Good." He started to pull away.

"And what do you get out of this?" Wraith asked.

Sulmad kissed the lesbian firmly on the lips. "A Special Forces captain will owe me two favors. And," he leaned in close an whispered right back at her, "the pleasure of not being mastered." He concluded before swaggering out of the officers club under her suddenly appraising gaze.



SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot 08



Prologue: 

There Are Limits

Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously. 

*

Ensign Peters was dead. When Sulmad had threatened to go to his superior, he'd gone for his blaster. Fool or not, slow or not, ally (allegedly) or not you pulled a blaster on the smuggler, you died. Shooting to wound was for the holos. His weapons were overpowered anyway.

The offer to let him run the minefield in exchange for a share of the take from betting if he survived was bad. The fact that they made the same offer to refugees was worse. The fact that they didn't discriminate by age was horrifying. The fact that the withheld the supplies that were supposed to feed the refugees so they'd have to run if they and their families wanted to eat was over the line.

Sulmad's line wasn't drawn the same place as most people. It couldn't be if he was going to survive as a free spacer. Especially now that his ship had been stolen. But there were lines, even for him. He wasn't Sith. Still, he would have been satisfied if they'd shut down their operation. And he surely would have been satisfied if their superiors had done it for him. But he'd made a mistake, thinking that Peters would back down. Ensign Ta had more sense. For all the good it had done the Republic officer. 

With Peters dead and Ta's blaster on the floor where she'd carefully dropped it along with her belt, the other 'troops' hadn't had her sense, but between his blaster and the refugees' rage, they'd died to the last. Ta wasn't so lucky.

The beautiful black officer was naked. Or mostly. Her uniform hadn't been removed, so much as it had been shredded by human muscle and nail and fury. You'd have thought the fact that there were families all together would limit what they would do. You'd be wrong. The children were kept far away, of course, lest one try the course to save their parent the risk, but fear for those children, anger over their hunger...

The women were the worst. Their wrath was terrible and untempered (mostly) by lust, fear, or cultural programming. Ta would already be dead if not for them. They swarmed around the woman, directing their husbands, sons, fathers and brothers in their tormenters violation. Sulmad could have stopped it. But he remembered the look on the skeletal face of a child and he could not bring himself to deny them their vengeance, though neither would he participate, or even, as Ta screamed briefly, before a cock was shoved into her mouth, a woman held it open with the spoon from the soldier's multitool as other repositioned her so another man could take a shot at her, now well lubricated, ass.

The betters, unarmed, were suffering as well, if there was less of a mill surrounding them. Sulmad ignored it, merely grateful that they hadn't followed the common practice on his homeworld on taking their children with them to see the bloodsports they were betting on. Then he would have had to interfere. Though maybe then, he wouldn't have had too, because they wouldn't have been able to.

He glanced back at Ta. A woman was whipping her breasts with the belt the soldier had dropped. They would have been able to. 

A shrug at human nature emerged from his peasant soul and he helped himself to the credits in their account. They'd do the refugees no good. Unlike the supplies. He amble in that direction, thinking that they should probably get those distributed. Fairly. Unless they wanted an even worse riot. That violence could turn on each other just as easily as it had on their tormenter. Rage not being the most sensible of emotions.

Sulmad was not the only one with that idea. After chasing off a very large would-be thief, he settled down at the console to see what all they had in the roomy and now unsecured supply tent. Once in the system, he checked to make sure that no one was scheduled to arrive for a while. The only reason the scam had worked so long was that the outpost was remote, but it never paid to be incautious. With that done, he set about doing calculations based on how many people were in the camp and what was in the tent. Much of the supplies had been sold. Probably why the supply run drivers hadn't talked.

The person to arrive wasn't a thief. Not as she walked right in without any attempt at concealment and was completely unarmed. Older than him, almost forty, she had the look of a woman who'd once been fairly well fed, but the prolonged hunger hadn't left her skin hanging, so she couldn't have been particularly heavy. She still had a double handful of breast, ah, he noted the slight dampness of her vest, she was still breast-feeding. That explained everything, as the mothers and children had first call on the food. Brown skin and almond eyes suggested she wasn't from Ord Mantel, but she wore the outfit of a port worker, though the usually tight clothing was just a hair loose on her frame.

She extended a well muscled arm, as her vest left her arms bare he could see that she was a strong woman, even if he hadn't watched her break a trooper's neck with her bare hands earlier. He shook it, wondering which of them would win if she tried the old game of squeezing. She didn't try. "Ming Fe. You can call me Ming, everyone does." She introduced herself straightforwardly. The top of her head barely came up to his shoulder, but her eyes seemed to look right through him. It wasn't a good feeling for a man with plenty to hide.

"Sulmad." He said in a tone that didn't invite inquiry into his surname. "What can I do for you Ming?" The tone vanished as he continued, being replaced with his usual, talking to a beautiful woman voice.

"Same as you, I expect. We need to get these supplies sorted out, or that's going to get even messier." She said, distaste for the actions outside clear in her voice.

Sulmad nodded, showing her the files he'd pulled up and moving away to get started on the sorting. Ming approached a few moments later and joined him wordlessly. The quiet sound of work was punctuated by a savage female request for a tent spoke and a scream from Ta. 

"You could stop this." Ming pointed out. It was an observation, not a request.

"Yes."

"Probably without killing any of them."

"Yes."

"May I ask why you don't?" Ming asked carefully not looking at him.

"When I was a young man, a great many bad things happened to those I cared for. My revenge was...not like that. Rape doesn't interest me. But...there are worse things than rape. I am in no position to judge them." He intoned, truthfully, for no reason he could find.

"But you were in a position to judge the soldiers?" Ming asked.

"There are lines even I didn't cross. Betrayal of a duty I volunteer for is one."

Ming turned to face him. "My man went on the run. Never came back."

"I'm sorry." Sulmad replied. It was his turn not to look at her.

"So am I. I'd like to thank you." She said.

"You're welcome." Sulmad said. This was not how it was supposed to go. It was messier. More intimate. Damn that whore Alma, she'd stirred up the past and now it was up.

"Please look at me." Ming almost begged. Her voice soft, too soft for a dock worker.

He did. Her top was off already, revealing breasts heavy with milk. Dirty black hair fell to her waist. There might not have been water for washing, but she could brush it. He knew if he touched it, it would be silk. Stocky legs came up to a slim waist and flat stomach. Nothing like a starvation diet to lose the baby weight. "You don't have to." Sulmad said. Turning down sex wasn't something he did. Usually.

She stepped up to him, rising on tiptoe and kissed him gently. "I want to." Was her only response. Well, except unbuckling his belt and tossing it away. His shirt and pants followed quickly, as did his underwear. A strong grip pulled him down onto the pile of furs that was being stored in the corner (some unlucky person's bet, though they were even more unlucky if they were out there now).

Soft lips pressed against his as her hands fell to his cock, manipulating it with a surprising expertise that brought him erect more quickly than he'd expected. He pulled back just a little so he could look at her. Where Alma was a perfect statue of ice (at least until he'd melted her), Ming was a rough hewn wood, but so much more alive and warm. His hand returned the favor, running over her little brown body, teasing her and tracing little patterns in her flesh. A quick glance showed it wasn't enough, so he turned his attention to kissing her lips, then moved lower, skipping her breasts for now and continuing downward until he reached her lower lips. Which he kissed and licked, eagerly, thoroughly and professionally. Strong hands clutched at his head, trying to push him into her rapidly dampening pussy. His hair was short enough that she couldn't get a grip, but she was busy tasting her. She was surprisingly sweet and responded faster than he'd expected. Maybe the show outside wasn't so distasteful to her after all, or maybe she'd just been without a man for longer than she liked. Either way, she was soon wet as the nearby ocean. He kept going, drilling down with his tongue, teasing her clit with teeth and tongue and the occasional finger, until he felt her gush.

Ming squeaked. An incongruous sound from such a strong woman. Sulmad's smile could have lit up the room, not that it needed it, the overhead lighting made it quite clear that they were both quite good looking and awfully satisfied with themselves, if for different reasons. Now he slid in easily, grateful for the contraceptive and immune implants he'd had installed after the first time he'd charmed his way into a bed and almost come away with a fatal disease, or, worse, as a father.

She tasted herself on his lips, kissing him wantonly as she eagerly wrapped her legs around the smuggler pulling him deeper and deeper. Hands sought breasts, asses, balls, hair, cheeks, anything of the other they could get as they tried to climb inside each other, even more than they already were. They made love in silence. Hardly surprising. Sulmad was comfortable with the language of fucking, charming and even degradation, but this was something else. Ming wasn't speaking either. Whether she was imagining the man she'd lost, or just lost in the pleasures of the flesh, he couldn't say. It bugged him, but a sudden roll of her hips and squeeze of her pussy drove that thought from him, along with all thought.

He lowered his head from her piercing gaze hunching awkwardly to get at her breasts. A sharp suck brought a spurt of warm milk forth and a gasp from the woman beneath him. The feeling was one she was used to by now, but not in that context. The mixed messaging was good. Damn good. As had been his tongue. Determined to return the favor, her feet drummed on his ass, pulling him in and she set her cunt walls to rippling, one hand cradled his balls, massaging them gently as the other cradled his head against her breast. She used every trick she'd learned as a Hutt slave girl to please her partner, for he was surely pleasing her.

He slid up to her. "You're going to make me cum."

She moaned back. "Do it. I want it in me."

"What about—"

"I already did, won't again for a while. I'm not multi-orgasmic." She answered, honestly, for some reason.

"So this performance is all for my pleasure?" He asked, pulling back.

"Yes." She answered truthfully.

"That..." She froze for a moment, then he grinned. "Is the sweetest thing ever. Well, besides your pussy. Damn that stuff should be candy."

Her laugh was diamonds on steel. His was the whisper of steel on leather. Strong arms and legs pinned them together as he filled her with his cum. Balls resting on her pussy, they lay together for a minute or two. 

"You drifting off?" Ming asked.

"You're a good pillow." He pulled up a bit and kissed her lightly. "Wrap that beautiful hair around us and—" 

He was cut off by a surprising stream of milk smacking him in the face. For the second time in a five minutes, Sulmad laughed, as did Ming. Before they could continue, more screams from outside distracted them and broke the mood.

"Back to work?" She asked.

"Back to work." He agreed, slipping from her tight pussy, at last.

Under Ming's gaze, he couldn't stand it anymore. A few minutes later he went out and put a blaster bolt in the prisoners. The refugees scampered into the tent with the look of children who'd been caught pulling the wings off bugs. Or, in some cases, the looks of men with a serious case of blue balls. But none stood up to the angry smuggler.

As supplies flowed out, bodies piled in. With all the supplies distributed, Sulmad sent them to the nearest refugee camp and burned the other one to the ground. They didn't need to be told to come up with a good story. Though he'd have preferred they not mention him at all, rather than make him the hero who defeated an entire Separatist battalion when the troops were massacred by an ambush. 

And that's the story of how Sulmad became a Hero of Ord Mantel.

He never saw Ming again. They could see each other too clearly for a relationship to be a possible. She agreed. In fact, she said it first. Along with the fact that he wasn't ready to be a father it was a no brainer. And he'd always been good at those.



SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot 09



Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously.



Qo'el's rescue had gone smoothly enough. The Republic wasn't eager to have the fact that it was torturing prisoners revealed, so a few borrowed files assured her continued safety. The guards hadn't been any more eager to face down a heavily armed mercenary, rather than the restrained and beaten prisoners they were used to. The rest of the database he took because he was feeling a bit vindictive. While in there system, he'd also lifted the classified recordings of Ord Mantel's rich and powerful and their corruption which the Republic used to keep the locals in line. He might have been more than a little bit vindictive.

The redheaded beauty couldn't have been more than twenty years old. The thought of her being tortured...well, actually it led rather inexorably to thoughts of her not being tortured. Admittedly, for Sulmad this was not an unusual experience as most thoughts ended with him naked on a pile of money, surrounded by his harem of beautiful, loyal protectors/wives/whores. 

She followed Sulmad to the quiet corner where he pulled out his holo-phone and punched in Lamalla Rann's code. The fellatrix, famous more for her reporting skills amongst those not in the know, answered with a purred suggestion before she saw the redhead behind him. Eyes widening as she wondered if the smuggler was following through on selling off the four bouts of oral sex she still owed him. Shoulders covered by a thin nightrobe shrugged to herself as she concluded there were worse people to lick than pretty redheaded girls. She would know.

A few brief comments that gave no indication what he was planning later, Sulmad was on his way to the reporters hotel room, with the liberated woman trailing behind him. Lamalla Rann's off duty clothes had a very definitive feel of on duty, just a different sort of duty, a sort accomplished in the bedroom, not pounding a beat, though pounding might well be a part of it. The unneeded bra did not so much cover as entice, her robe was transparent and open though it could be belted shut and her panties were a masterwork in almost, but not quite concealing the fact that she could be fucked without even needing to shove them aside. Her hair was free of the ridiculous styles of the nobility and hung in a brown wave to the small of her back, framing her face and curves in a very attractive manner.

Sulmad smiled. 

Qo'el stared. 

"Qo'el here has a story for you and I've got the documentation you need to prove it. Should be worth a couple of those prizes you journalists are so crazy for."

"If so, you'll get what you're crazy for." Lamalla whispered, hugging him. Her whisper was not so quietly the redhead couldn't hear. She didn't miss the woman's breasts pressing against Sulmad, or the lusty smile he gave as he hugged her in greeting.

Qo'el blushed and tried to look worldly at the same time, then settled for just telling her story, talking directly into the holocamera Lamalla made appear, putting the question of why the reporter had a tiny holocamera in her bedroom out of her mind.

Lamalla had her pouring out her story in no time. A few questions from off camera redirected her flow into a coherent narrative. With that done, the reporter excused herself and dragged Sulmad over to the computer terminal so he could download his files. As he worked she hugged him tightly from behind, breasts pressing against the back of his head like delightful, if artificial, pillows. "Kidnapping, torture, rape, misappropriation of government funds and personnel, corruption, how could it be any better?" She whispered, this time so the woman slowly relaxing on her couch couldn't hear.

He glanced up at her. The veteran reporter didn't blush. "I mean as a story, not a series of events that actually occurred." 

"I know."

"Speaking of actual events, was she?" Lamalla let the question hang, unfinished.

"No. Or, at least, not as far as I can tell. I got there before they processed her in, but there should be plenty of names in here for you to go looking for." He said as he finished the file transfer.

"If this story is as big as you think and I think, then I owe you anything you want, whenever you want it, within reasonable limits." She added, considering that while the story would do her career serious good, getting fucked live on the air wouldn't. Or at least, not with the right people. Hands ran down the armored shirt to the armor that protected his prick. 

He caught them. "Why don't you go say thank you to the woman who's willing to appear on camera and talk about her experiences." Sulmad suggested, loudly enough that Qo'el could hear. She perked right up as the beautiful older woman straightened and swayed over to the couch.

Sulmad couldn't hear what she whispered to the younger woman as he carefully ripped a copy of the reporter's files and erased his tracks. Lamalla might have been a nympho, but she had a good record for sniffing out (or sucking out) stories and there were one or two threads he'd be happy to follow up on, if she'd found anything about them. Whatever the reporter said made the redhead blush furiously, smile shyly and start pulling off her top, shooting glances at the smuggler's back that were an enticing mix of embarrassment and arousal.

By the time he finished covering his tracks, Lamalla was already on her knees, face buried between Qo'el's thighs as she worked the woman's cunt furiously. The younger woman's hands were on the reporter's head, trying to shove her entire head into her suddenly sopping pussy as she moaned and writhed against the nympho's skilled ministrations. 

When she noticed Sulmad rising, her eyes locked on him, aroused green orbs trying to read intention and action in equally green, but far blander eyes. 

Slowly each piece of armor fell to the floor, freed by calloused hands. Qo'el bit her lip, her moans silenced as she was transfixed by the stripping smuggler. When he was naked, he let the blaster belt fall on top of the pile. Now her eyes were locked on his cock as he stepped forward. He stopped behind the reporter, on all fours, her perfect ass pointed at him, panties parted slightly, revealing her pussy, the expensive fabric neither inhibiting the flow of juices from her cunt, nor absorbing it. A necessity, if you were as permanently aroused as Lamalla Rann.

"Do you mind?" He asked politely, as a finger ran delicately along her pussy lips.

Lamalla pulled back for just a moment. "No need to be gentle." She replied, before diving back into the pussy in front of her. The sudden absence and return of sensation forced a groan from the overloaded, overwhelmed, already on the brink of orgasm, former prisoner.

Sulmad slipped his cock between her lips, rubbing up and down, coating the head with her natural lubricant, before teasing her ass with the head. "What do you think, Qo'el? Shall I fuck her cunt, or her shitter?" He asked, deliberately as foul mouthed as he thought she could stand. 

He was planning to force her to engage with him, become part of him fucking Lamalla, though which part she would play would be up to her. She beat him to the punch. "Me." She gasped between moans.

"Oh?" He froze, one hand on his cock, the other on Lamalla's back.

"Fuck me. In the cunt." She mimicked his language. "Where her tongue is now, not where her fingers are."

Sulmad's eyebrows rose at this revelation. "And what shall our poor reporter do while we are entertaining each other?" He purred.

"Suck your balls, lick my clit." She gasped.

"Greedy girl." She flushed. "I like that." A firm pull of her hair removed Lamalla from between Qo'el's legs. He lifted the fiery redhead to her unsteady feet and slid in behind her. Her cunt was well lubed by the reporter's actions and he slid into the tight pussy as easily as could be expected, given the givens.

Lamalla looked up at them like a puppy whose bone had been stolen. "Tell her what to do." Sulmad whispered, nibbling on her ear as he slowly ran his hands around to the front of her stomach. He hadn't begun pumping away yet, letting the supposedly inexperienced, if delightfully depraved, woman get used to the feel of a real cock inside her.

"Lick my clit, please." She requested.

"Very polite." Sulmad teased, giving a quick thrust that turned her response into a moan.

Lamalla lunged forward, licking at the woman's clit, one hand fondled Sulmad's balls while the other sought the large handful that was the Qo'el's right breast. If she hadn't frigged herself to an orgasm when she got home and another quick one after Sulmad's call, she might have been unable to resist touching herself, but for the moment, she focused on giving pleasure to those who had just gone through so much and given her career such a boost.

Sulmad's hands ran up and over Qo'el's front as he slowly moved in and out of the beautiful woman, her grasping cunt sucking, sopping and almost moaning in disappointment when he moved back, falling into a satisfied, if squeaky silence when he stretched her to her utmost with his cock. He teased her magnificent breasts until he felt her pussy starting to squeeze down even harder on his prick and her breathing grew ragged. As her orgasm approached, he grabbed her hips in a bruising grip and began fucking her quickly, trying to drive himself over at the same time as his beautiful new associate. 

Lamalla took over playing with her new toy's breasts while Qo'el wrapped her fingers in the reporter's hair and ground her face against her clit, desperate for more even if she was getting all she could handle. This was evidenced by the moans and screams and then sudden silence of the young woman as the ministrations of the more experienced pair drove her wild, then into Orgasmville, then into whatever lay beyond it, where her face was a frozen portrait of unimagined and debauched delight.

As she floated, on a cloud of heavenly ecstasy, Sulmad fucked her body quickly, roughly and joyfully, until the heat rose from his toys and fell from his head, meeting at his cock in an inferno of pain and pleasure that he filled her with.

They fell backwards, Qo'el's hands dragging the reporter along with them to the couch, where she dutifully lapped up every drop of white seed leaking from the rescued teenager. There weren't many, not with Sulmad's cock still blocking the path and her tight, greedy box, swallowing every drop it could find. With some difficulty, Sulmad and Lamalla Rann extricated themselves from her frozen grip.

"That was fun."

"For you two." Lamalla said, a bit sourly.

Sulmad's naked form backed her against the privacy shielded window. When there was no where left to retreat to, two fingers slipped into her sopping pussy. He held them before the reporter's eyes as evidence. "Oh, yes, I can see that you were only in it for the story." He whispered.

Lamalla grinned and sucked her juices from calloused fingers. They glanced over at the woman who was now asleep on the journalist's couch, curled in a naked and almost glowing ball, except for the few additional drops of cum on her pussy lips, the handprints on her breasts and hips, she looked like an angel. She was, however, the spitting image of a recently fucked angel. 

"Make sure she gets back to her father." He commanded. 

"Eventually. I need a new camera operator. She's not trained, but so eager. I can work with that." Lamalla said.

"Work with, or over?" Sulmad countered with a smile of his own.

"Both. By the way, I was serious. I owe you for this."

"Don't worry, beautiful, you'll pay me back. Everyone always does." His lips brushed her cheek as he turned back to his clothes.

"No, no, no, I couldn't let you go like that." Lamalla tried to spin him around and just succeeded at pulling herself forward. He stopped, but it wasn't because of the hand on his arm.

One brow rose on its own and his eyes were suddenly harder than the emeralds they resembled. "Couldn't you?" A voice colder than Hoth asked.

"With her scent on your dick? I could never forgive myself for letting a guest go out so perfumed. This is a bad neighborhood, you know." She said warm brown eyes trying to melt his as her hand grasped his cock.

"And however will you solve that problem?" He asked, unbending slightly, though his cock wasn't stiffening particularly.

"The way any good hostess would. Personally." Lamalla replied, sliding to her knees and taking the full length of his soft dick into her mouth and cleaning it patiently.

After a few moments of pleasant dominance, Sulmad realized she was trying to get him hard again and since he had places to be, he didn't have time for that. At the moment. He stepped back, evading her attempt to follow easily and pulled her up by the hand that tried to catch him. "She's had a hard time of it. Waking up to you licking her out might help make her feel better."

"You don't let me have any fun." Lamalla pouted.

"See, when you say that after a night like tonight, you're just begging for an evening you'd never forget." Sulmad said, before turning back to his clothes.

"Is that a promise?"

Sulmad laughed quietly. "Are you sure you want it to be?"

Lamalla Rann, nympho, whore, slut and reporter didn't have an answer to that.



SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot 10



Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously.


Celestra collapsed on the floor, facedown, her large breasts pressed against the rough carpet of her quarters. The stocky engineer had held herself upright as long as Sulmad was pounding her ass, but as soon as he dumped his load in her, she fell forward, unable to support herself any longer. Partly that was due to the fact that his orgasm (and a rough finger on her clit) had triggered hers, but it didn't hurt that he'd released his iron grip on her short hair when he'd cum.

Despite meeting a dozen times since she'd showed up, naked under her coat, at his room to thank him for saving her, she didn't want to look at him while they were fucking. Or afterwards, for that matter. He might have introduced her to pleasures she hadn't imagined, but she was still 'proper' enough not to do that. Havenites are weird, Sulmad mused to himself as he poured her a drink, cleaned himself up and headed out. 

Though it felt rude to his cultural programming, it was what she wanted and for the news she'd just brought him, he was more than willing to humor her cultural quirks. He actually whistled as he walked into the bright sunshine of late afternoon. And the pair of muggers who tried to steal his good mood along with his credits actually got to live, without their weapons, admittedly. On the flipside, they had gained several more bones, even if they were smaller than the ones they'd started out with.

Affixing rad sensors to all the speeders had been Sulmad's idea, but it had been Celestra who did the work. And who didn't just attach simple radiation detectors, but the more powerful scanners that had picked up traces from his ship's engines as well as the bomb that Wraith had been looking for. Admittedly, they were in the Separatist Stronghold, but with both of their goals therein, he wouldn't be going in alone.

A brief stop to collect Corso Riggs, the mercenary Skavak had betrayed and robbed at the same time he was hijacking Sulmad's ship, turned into a longer stop when Vidu (the local underworld leader) confirmed that the ship would be there for another day or two as he'd finally heard back from his contacts. It turned into an even longer trip when he stopped to flirt with Vidu's girl, Syreena, a pretty brunette, with a sharp tongue and soft hands.

Finally, he headed out, flanked by the mercenary. As a general rule, Sulmad didn't trust easy, but Corso was no deeper than his scarred surface. Tough as leather and a good shot, but not exactly a deep thinker. So long as Sulmad didn't sign up with the empire and smiled at folks instead of stabbing 'em right off, Corso'd fight for him and die for him, if need be. The next stop was a reward for that loyalty. The cantina was closed for the night, allegedly for renovations, really because Wraith and her pair of pals were having a night in for once.

The nude, restrained Rodian caught his eye and the mercenary started forward, only to be jerked to a stop by Sulmad. "Wraith." He said. Moaning was coming from behind the bar, opposite where the Rodian was chained so she could watch, but not reach whatever was happening back there. Sulmad stuck his head over and caught sight of the special forces soldier and the bartender curled around and over each other, each of them focused on pleasuring the other with fingers, tongues, on Ryn's side, lekku and on Wraith's side an impressively large bottle that made Sulmad feel just a bit inadequate. Corso, who'd followed him over, almost drooled over the beautiful women, though he did flush bright red and cover his eyes. Eventually.

Wraith pulled her head, though not her groin free and glared up at the mercenaries. "What?" She growled as the Twi'lek moaned her annoyance into the soldier's pussy. 

The annoyance faded as Sulmad explained what they'd found, though the lesbian never rose up off her partner's face. "Good. We go in the front. Tomorrow. Dawn. Be there, or be left behind." She gasped as Ryn slipped two well lubed fingers into her ass. "Now get outta here before you make me lose my bet. I got two days on my knees riding on this."

Sulmad nodded politely and dragged his peeking fellow out of the cantina.

"That was...something else, Captain." Corso said.

"Depends on the night." Sulmad countered.

"Lucky dog." Corso muttered.

"Only some nights. Others...well, the selection can be a bit thin on a smuggler's station. And often everyone pretty has already got a partner who'd take talking to them amiss. Though they might not miss with their blasters." Sulmad explained.

"Still..."

"Corso. Do me a favor. Stop by the Jalor Hotel and ask for Lamalla Rann. She's a reporter. Tell her that we're attacking the Separatist stronghold tonight at midnight, by coming up through the tunnels. After that, you're free until dawn. Okay?"

"You want me to lie?"

"Not to her. She's a smart woman, she'll know it's bull and she'll know how to spread it around so whatever spies the Seps got in here hear about it too." Sulmad soothed the chivalrous mercenaries conscience with the truth, for a change.

"On it, Captain." Corso agreed, swaggering off. The shadows gave him and his blaster rifle a large amount of clearance.

Sulmad found a dark corner, ruthlessly evicted the mugger who was lurking there and made a quick call. "So, you finally ready to collect?" Lamalla asked, the holo wasn't high enough resolution for the mercenary to make out details, but her half-dressed state was obvious. 

"If it's necessary. A friend of mine is dropping by."

"Pimping me out?" The reporter asked, offended or amused.

"No. No orders here. But, there's a good chance he and I will be quite dead before long. Do me a favor? You and Qo'el remind him that there's a lot of reasons to want to be alive."

She stared at the tiny holographic mercenary before her. "Not a problem." She purred.

"Oh, and feel free to spread any...thing he tells you around with a big shovel, but not published under your name." Sulmad continued. She could almost hear him replace the word 'bullshit' with 'thing'.

"Understood." The reporter agreed. Almost naked shoulders shrugged slightly, which, entirely coincidentally, caused her shirt (such as it was) to fall off. "Oops." She continued, unconvincingly before hanging up on Sulmad's suddenly smiling face.

Sulmad gathered up his things, giving Vidu's girl a smile and a couple of flirtatious comments before he headed out. Yael wasn't in her hut, so he waited. Sleep was something he caught whenever he could and this was a nice opportunity. The Cathar's bed was more of a nest after she'd shredded it during their first session, but it was comfortable enough for a man who slept in full body armor.

He woke as soon as the door opened, but Sulmad didn't move as the Cathar snuck to the bed, looked down at him and pulled off her clothes, before gently stripped off his armor, picking apart the laces and baring scarred flesh. When he was naked, he moved as if he'd just awoken, spinning them around and pinning her to the bed with a single easy motion. One hand was on her throat, the other back, prepared to strike before he froze. Green eyes softened and he released her. "Sorry about—why am I naked?" He asked, as if he didn't know.

"Thought you'd be more comfortable." Yael responded, twisting to bring a soft, fur covered thigh against his hardening cock.

"Really? Is that what you thought? Or, were you thinking of sticking my cock in your cunt and using me until you came on it? Again?" Sulmad asked, his voice containing the smile she could barely see in the shadows of the hut. 

She stiffened under him as if he'd suggested she ate children (a common slander against the Cathar). "Without your permission? Never."

"Then why am I really naked?"

"I thought it would make it easier to get your permission." She admitted impishly.

"Oh, indeed it will. For your information, just you being naked would have been plenty to make it hard...for me to say no." He concluded with a smile of his own.

"Really?" White canines flashed in the darkness as she twisted under him, legs spreading. "I'll remember that."

Sulmad slid back. "Roll over. Up on all fours." He commanded, hands helping her get there in the dark and groping her unsubtly, just the way she liked it. Furry hands grabbed a thin tube of lube from beside the bed and passed it back. "I take it this means you want it in your ass?" Sulmad asked, one finger dragging along the outer edge of the cat-woman's pussy, noting its wetness.

The Cathar refugee moaned and whispered her response. "Don't care where, don't care how, just fuck me, Human!"

The mercenary smiled as he lubed up his cock. "That how you want it, Cathar?" He reduced her to a pile of furry and lusty traits that had (almost) nothing to do with the woman on all fours before him.

"No. Damnit. I want you to fuck me. Lira-Kan, Humans may be great lovers, but you ain't exactly swift, are yo—" She was teasing. Then she was yowling. In between the two states, seven or eight inches of thick Human cock had been pressed relentlessly into her tight ass.

Her ass, not having evolved as a trap was looser, loose enough, in fact to be of minimal interest to the average Cathar male. This was another facet of the evolutionary competition between primitive Cathar males and females as the males preferred not to become fathers (and assume the responsibilities that went along with that) but did enjoy sex. Not taking said responsibility never occurred to them. Unlike the man who was currently balls deep in Yael's ass. Also unlike them, Sulmad was bigger in every relevant sense, so she was still plenty tight for him.

The Human bent forward, groping her breasts as roughly as he could manage from the moderately awkward angle, remembering she needed it hard if she was to feel anything through that thick coat of fur. "How's that for swift?" He asked.

She opened her mouth to answer and Sulmad bit down (fairly) gently on a tufted ear. Her yowling turned to howling and she fucked back against him desperately bouncing, grinding and writhing against him. "Harder! More!" She growled endlessly. When her savagery actually made his cock slip from her ass, he knocked her hands away, forcing her face into the bed. It stifled her shouts, somewhat. One hand pinned her hands behind her at an arousingly painful angle while the other guided his cock back into her ass.

He pounded her rapidly, using her own hands as a handle to fuck her warm, tight ass. Claws sharp enough to cut armor plate flexed uselessly in the air, an ever-present reminder of his conquest's savagery.

An extra quarter inch raised on her hands, a painful twist and a finger in her cunt silenced her commands. The same process that had trapped his cock the first time they fucked, trapped the first two knuckled of his middle finger. Then, half-a-dozen lubed, buggering thrusts later, his ring finger, followed by the pointer and pinky. 

When Sulmad felt his own orgasm approaching, he made a fist as best he could, around her clit and squeezed hard. The fingers inside her could just barely move (as most cocks don't flex like fingers), but it was an entirely new sensation for the Cathar. She roared into her pillow and her ass clamped down around him as Sulmad's own orgasm came.

Every muscle in his body tensed as he flooded her beautiful ass with his cum. This prolonged her own orgasm beyond anything she'd ever experienced as his palm ground against her clit and his fingers twisted and turned inside her, doing unbelievable things to her pussy. The rough grip pinning her own hands didn't hurt, nor did the massive (for her) cock in her ass. They did hurt, actually, but she liked that.

Finally Sulmad came down, releasing her (and noting that her pussy had released his han) before collapsing, onto the bed, not onto her still sharp and still flexing claws. He lay on his back and just watched as the indomitable Cathar refugee lay there, ass in the air, hands still behind her back, though no one was holding them there now, his cum leaking from her ass, hers from her cunt.

As the afterglow faded, her arms came around, pushing her into a sitting position. She flexed like the cat she resembled, carefully licking her sensitive cunt and sore ass clean before pulling herself over to Sulmad and making sure that every drop of his cum went into her belly. The mercenary patted her on the head, scratching her behind the ears slightly as he sighed contentedly. 

She wrapped herself around the exhausted mercenary. "So, what's with all the stuff?"

"Found my ship. Getting it back's going to be...tricky. If I don't come back, well, you can use this stuff more than my corpse can." Sulmad answered with a shrug.

She looked up at him, eyes worried. "You've always made it out before."

"It'll be tight and nasty."

"I'd have thought you liked that." Yael purred.

Sulmad grinned in the darkness. "Hopefully, I'll be back tomorrow afternoon, I'll pick up my stuff and say my goodbyes." A well-muscled arm wrapped around her furry self comfortingly, though the fingers that tweaked her nipple were more naughty than comforting. Though that was comforting in its own way.

"Well then, I'll have to think of something to motivate you to come back in a hurry." Yael teased. "Maybe one of us will dream something up?" She suggested.

Sulmad relaxed. He was (almost) always up for sex, but he needed sleep if he was to survive the morrow. 

He slept. Shockingly well in fact, as Yael made almost as good a blanket as she did a fuckbuddy. A few teasing comments were all that passed between them the next morning as Sulmad dressed and armed himself, thoroughly and marched off to face the full might of the Separatists.

Corso made it to the rendezvous point from his own rendezvous on time, barely; armed and armored, mostly; and grinning, hugely. So went the mercenaries to war, well-fucked even before the battle began.



SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot 11



Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously.

It looked like Sulmad was smiling. He wasn't. An artifact of the scarring surrounding his mouth was a permenant wry smile. The usual twinkle in his eye was missing. A good hint that he wasn't actually happy. As was the blaster in his hand, pointed at her, not insubstantial, chest. "So, you were the one who was helping Skavak stay a step ahead. I knew that asshole couldn't be outmaneuvering us on his own. And now you've killed poor Vidu. Who, present company excepted, was my only ally on this rock. Why shouldn't I blow a hole clean through her again?" He asked Corso Riggs, the tough, if surprisingly innocent mercenary who'd helped him blow through every separatist on Ord Mantel twice over, or at least that was what it seemed like.

"Where I'm from a man don't shoot a woman, no matter what she's done." Corso answered, conveniently overlooking the smoking body of his boss and friend.

"We can't stick around here. Rogun's bounty hunters will be coming soon, they've reopened the port." Syreena put in. She reached up and released her hair from its intricate arrangement, letting the black cloud descend to her shoulders, framing her flushed, over-made-up face to her advantage.

"Fair point." Sulmad admitted, holstering his gun. "Corse, secure us transport the hell out of here, keep an eye out for bounty hunters, but they shouldn't be looking for you yet. Syreena and I'll set this place to blow. Should keep 'em off our tracks for a while if they think we're dead."

"Yes, Captain." Corso agreed, too relieved that the smuggler hadn't blown her away to examine his reasoning too closely.

"Corso?"

"Yeah?"

"We'll meet you at the spaceport. I don't want anymore people coming and going from here than absolutely necessary."

"Right." Corso agreed. He headed out as Syreena heaved a heavy sigh of relief, drawing even more attention to her...assets. 

"Now that the hero's gone, let's get down to business. What's your life worth to you?" Sulmad asked, casually pulling the blaster from her hip holster and tossing it away. The skin-tight fabric of her outfit was soft, but he could feel tense muscles under them.

"What—but you said—" She began.

"That was for Corso's benefit. Wouldn't want him to get the right idea about me. I happen to know for a fact that Rogun's wrath has been...delayed by a shipment of chemicals. Now, you were negotiating for your life, seeing as how you betrayed me and I kill traitors." Sulmad explained.

She lunged at him, wrapping her arms around him. Her lips pressed against his, tongue slipping past his defenses. Sulmad's instincts tossed her to the floor and he pinned her hands above her head. "Am I to understand you're offering yourself?" He asked, breath hot against her cheek. He could feel her breasts pressing against him as she gasped for breath. Her nipples were hard, though from fear, or arousal he couldn't say.

"Yes." She whispered, kissing his ear and writhing delightfully under him. 

"And I would want Skavak's cast offs, why?" He asked coldly.

She ground herself against his rigid cock, still hidden under his armor. "I can feel you want me and it's not like you've been subtle, sniffing around even when Vidu was alive." 

"That was before I knew you were involved in stealing my ship and setting me up to be killed. Repeatedly. That might put a damper on a fellow's interest."

"But it hasn't, has it? Tell you what," she humped against him as best she could. "Why don't we see if I can't convince you to be the gentleman who saved me from those nasty thugs again?"

"No promises." Sulmad replied, releasing her hands and rolling gracefully to his seat, claiming Vidu's chair and ignoring his former boss's corpse in the corner of the room. "But why don't you show me what you've got."

Syreena sat up slowly, stretching liquidly revealing every line of a curvy feminine form. Nimble fingers undid a belt heavy with tools and tossed it away. Her boots and gloves followed, before she kicked herself to her feet. She moved with the grace of Twi'lek slave dancer, though they were more suitably attired for stripping. Her pants came off awkwardly, but revealed a delightful length of smooth leg and an even more delightful set of shimmersilk panties. Her shirt she removed easily, reminding Sulmad that she had kept this backwater's excuse for a crimelord interested for several years, as well as hiding her affiliation with Skavak from both said crimelord and himself.

Sexy, intelligent and completely amoral. Yes, he might have uses for her after all. He thought, before the shirt came off, revealing firm C-cup breasts. On her thin frame they were almost certainly augmented, especially to be so high without any support whatsoever as she'd forgone a bra under her skin-tight shirt. She stepped onto the table, and let her panties drop, pooling at her feet, right in front of him.

"Well?" She asked as he looked up at her, noting her pussy was clean shaven.

"You're clean? You didn't catch anything rolling around in the filth with Skavak?" He asked coldly, holding onto his control with his fingertips. Rage and lust were a bad combination for anyone who liked to keep his head, though if she had any weapons left, they were extraordinarily well hidden.

Her cheeks, already too red with blush, flushed an even deeper scarlet. "No. Besides, I assume you're up to date with your shots, seeing as how you've bedded every doxy from here to Drelliad Village."

"So I am and so I have." Sulmad agreed, with an actual smile. 

Syreena stepped off the edge of the table, dropping herself down so she was straddling the fully dressed smuggler. Breasts brushed the synthleather of his armored jacket as she kissed him soundly, hands undoing the laces that kept his cock concealed. She managed to free it, before Sulmad pulled her hands away from his cock, though mostly from the blaster that hung, holstered on his right thigh.

She rose slightly and lowered herself onto his rigidly erect cock, taking its full length in a single thrust. Her cunt was soaked and surprisingly tight, though if she put off everyone else (or everyone else but Skavak) with the same skill she'd displayed towards him, he could hardly be that surprised.

That reminder annoyed him and he rose, lifting her off her feet with an impressive roar. Her legs instinctively wrapped around him as he dumped her on the table. Her naked body shone with sweat as he bent over her, pounding away between her legs with an almost bestial power. One hand pinned hers above her head, while the other roamed over her body, pinching a nipple here, teasing her clit, or her mouth there. 

"Well?" She moaned.

"Well, what?" Sulmad asked, not stopping for even a second.

"Well, am I better than that Cathar bitch, Yael? Or that mouthy news anchor?" She asked, going for coquettish, which is difficult when someone's cock is buried eight inches in your cunt.

"You should have seen the things that woman could do with her mouth. I don't think we have to wonder how she made it into the big times, despite not having any connections. As for Yael," he pinched a nipple tightly, producing a sharp yelp from the beautiful temptress beneath him. "I made that kitty purr and she returned the favor. You ever fucked a Cathar? Talk about your energetic partners. I still have scratches."

"Slut!" She snapped.

"Me, her, or you?" Sulmad countered, tweaking her clit hard enough to provoke a deep moan.

"Fuck you!" She cursed, writhing against him as his hands and cock drove her ever closer to the edge of her orgasm.

"You are!" He snapped back, with exactly the same emphasis. 

She groaned, though whether it was at his wordplay or because he was teasing her clit as he fucked her was unclear. Whatever her response was going to be, and really, what can you say to that, he silenced it with a savage kiss. She screamed into his mouth as his cock made her cum. Sulmad could feel himself approaching his own orgasm. He pulled out, sitting back on Vidu's humble throne. Syreena slid to the floor, orgasm dazed.

"Let's see what you can do with your mouth. Can you manipulate cock, as well as you manipulate men?" He asked, one hand on the butt of his blaster, more to keep her from taking it than as a threat. 

She crawled over to him, too cum-drunk to stand and took his cock into her mouth without hesitation, licking and sucking every drop of her own juice from it. His free hand wrapped itself in her soft hair. "Do you swallow?" He asked, his courtesy only slightly undercut by the fact that he was still threatening her life.

"Rage, insults and cum alike." She agreed, pulling herself off his cock for just a moment, before diving back onto it like a diver clutching at the last snorkel.

The fingers in her hair tightened as he felt his own release approaching. He pressed down, holding the traitor's face against his armor as his cock filled her throat, then his cum was filling her belly and throat and he released her, though not his grip on his gun. She pulled back, coughing for just a moment, before she stepped up and back, falling into one of the other chairs. Sulmad stood up, somewhat more slowly than usual and picked up her pants from where they'd fallen and cleaned off his cum and spit soaked cock, before tucking it away. 

The, now quite filthy, pants came to rest on her naked chest. "Anything here worth taking?"

"Anything worth credits was already sent to Rogun to hold him off. He really wants his money. The building's already mortgaged." Syreena replied, slowly. 

"So these," he held up the shimmersilk panties, "are the only thing of value in this entire place?" 

"Yeah." She admitted.

"Fine. They're mine. I know a guy who pays good money for shimmersilk, makes it into robes for nobles, Jedi and Sith. Should be good for a couple of credits and a laugh." Sulmad said, pocketing the panties. "I'll place the explosives, get dressed. Wouldn't want anyone to think something was wrong."

She winced as she pulled on her clothing, fucking a fully armored individual left bruises in the oddest places. "So, we're good?" She asked, when she was fully dressed and the building was fully mined.

"No. I'm not going to kill you, but you work for me now. I'm not taking you with me, but anything you hear, any big score, any news, any anything, you will drop me a line. I may be on the run from Rogun the Butcher, for now, but trust me when I say, I always end up on top, as you've just seen. Don't cross me and I'll choose to see your actions as a betrayal of Vidu, not me. Understand?" His green eyes blazed as they met her brown ones.

"Yes." She agreed, bending her head submissively.

"Good. Now get gone, I've got the capital of the Republic to conquer. Should be fun."

"Think there'll be enough women there to sate your appetites?" Syreena asked, seeing that the danger had passed.

"Well, it's the most densely populated planet in the galaxy...nah."