Part One
"How late are you staying?"
Senator Padmé Amidala didn't bother looking up from the mound of work which grew every day. For several days now, she had worked into the wee hours of the night, still seemingly not able to get ahead. Research, proposals to read over, docudisks to review and sign, and meetings to attend, which resulted in further proposals and research. It was a never-ending cycle. She enjoyed her work, but realized it was beginning to wear on her nerves as well as her body.
"I just have a few more proposals to read and then I'm finished."
"Uh uh." Her assistant and bodyguard pronounced, reaching to collapse the datareader shut, automatically powering down the device.
"Dormé!" Padmé attempted to reopen it, but found her friend's hands planted firmly upon the lid.
"You haven't taken an evening off since...since never, Mi'Lady. It's time we went out and had some fun."
Padmé looked at her bodyguard with a skeptical eye. Dormé's idea of fun and hers were nowhere near the same thing. However, Padmé knew her friend was insisting only out of concern for her well-being and health, and it was touching, albeit a frightening thought.
"What do you have planned?" She asked, playing along, for the time-being.
"I've heard about this place in the Upper Levels. Totally wizard."
"Wizard, huh?" Padmé's brow rose once more in light of Dormé's enthusiasm. The last time the young woman had been this excited about going out, it had cost Padmé nearly one-thousand credits in bail money.
"It's not a dance club, is it?" Not that Padmé was against dancing, it's just that she was bit tired this evening.
"No. No dancing." Dormé assured her.
"Sports bar? You know how much I detest those, and the men that frequent them."
"No, it's not a recreational establishment...though I do hear some action may be involved."
The last of the bodyguard's statement was uttered between clenched teeth and Padmé couldn't discern the words, raising her suspicions even higher.
"What was that?"
"Nothing important. It's a fairly new establishment that only elite citizens can attend. I've been dying to go, and if you don't accompany me, there's no way I'll get in."
Dormé's plea had begun to take onto a whining tone, which Padmé was not about to listen to.
"Fine. Grab my cloak and help me put away these datapads."
Padmé's trepidation began to fade as they stepped off the public transport and approached the grand entrance to Coruscant's newest night spot: "Discretions" the marquee read in elegant script. Upon further inspection, the entire place was elegant.
Golden pillars graced the arched entryway, beautiful stained glass windows depicted exotic birds and breathtaking scenery from far away planets. Once through the doorway, their feet sunk into rich, red carpeting and unlike most clubs on Coruscant, instead of a protocol droid taking one's cloak and credits, an actual sentient being received her customers. A beautiful Twi'Lek with an equally lovely smile.
"Welcome to Discretions. My name is Turlana. I will be your hostess for the evening. Allow me to take your cloaks."
With a motion of her hand, a human male, quite attractive himself with dark curling hair and bright lilac eyes appeared through a door on the right, dressed in a clinging shimmersilk shirt of deep purple and matching trousers which were just as tight. He flashed a broad and bright smile as he took Padmé and Dormé's coats.
"I need to see your identifications, please and a credit chip."
Dormé smiled assuredly at Padmé, who returned a much more wary one. So far, so good, but when it came right down to it, she didn't trust Dormé. She loved her like a sister, but still, she didn't trust her.
Within just a few seconds, Turlana returned with both ladies' ID disks.
"Senator Amidala, we're so pleased to have your patronage this evening. I see this is your first time with us. Do you require orientation?"
Orientation? "Dormé?"
"I don't believe so." The young woman cut in. "I've done my research."
The blush that spread across Dormé's face struck fear in Padmé's heart. What had she just walked into?
"We would like to take advantage of the Gold Package."
The Twi'Lek smiled graciously. "Wise choice for a first-time visit. Please follow me."
Padmé reluctantly followed the hostess past the doors which the young man had entered, and they slowly made their way into a long, narrow room.
"Please stand behind the red line."
Padmé and Dormé looked to the floor and stepped back into the designated area just in time to miss the sudden appearance of a column that swept across the mid section of the room, carrying along with it an array of clothing, mostly black in color.
"Sub or Dom?"
"Pardon me?" Padmé asked Turlana, who had turned her attention to Dormé.
Dormé, in turn looked to her employer, her eyes traveling from her toes to the top of her head.
"Dom. Definitely Dom." She answered the Twi'Lek's question with a mischievous grin.
"And yourself?"
"Neutral, please."
"As you wish."
Padmé watched with rising nervousness as the Discretions worker reached into the variety of clothing and withdrew one shining black bodysuit and one blue. She then reached up above and removed two cylinders, one marked with a D, the other and N. From inside, she withdrew a black, glitterstone studded mask, and a matching one from the other only it was blue.
"Dressing rooms are to your left ladies and don't forget your crop, Senator."
Crop!?
The leather unisuit hugged Padmé's body like a second skin, and the attached boots were ridiculously platformed and high-heeled. Donning the mask, the young woman turned around to look at her reflection in the mirror and laughed outloud.
In the private room across from her, Dormé struggled with her own attire. "Is everything all right?"
"I can't go out there looking like this! What if someone sees me?"
"That's what the mask's for, Mi'Lady."
"This is crazy! Why do I let you talk me into things like this?"
"Because you love me." The bodyguard answered immediately, poking her head out the sliding door and gazing at Padmé who had walked out. "I think you look great."
"I'm putting my own gown back on." Padmé suddenly blurted out, reaching around to undo the zipper.
"Don't you think you'd definitely be recognized then? There are probably senators in there, important business leaders, maybe even the Chancellor himself. You never know! Don't you think it'll be fun to try and figure out who all's here?"
Padmé didn't answer right away, but decided what harm could come from a costume party? She'll have a few drinks, listen to the music she could hear coming from inside, and stare at the customers, like Dormé had suggested. It might be fun after all.
"Very well, but you owe me one."
Another young man, this one blond and wearing a burgundy shimmersilk shirt appeared, smiling just as brightly.
"Follow me, ladies."
The carpeting ended to be replaced by a luxurious marble floor of grays and purple with matching draperies hanging on the walls. Rich, dark woods made up the tables out in the open as well as in a variety of alcoves partially hidden by lilac tapestries. Down a couple of steps was a lower level, in its center an oval stage surrounded by matching drapes. Up above them hung crystal chandeliers. The conversations amongst the patrons was relaxed, as was the music. A soft romantic ballad played in the background, and Padmé had to admit to herself that it wasn't exactly what she was expecting.
After being shown a table that was located in the corner near the bar, their escort soon returned with a couple of drinks and a smile.
"Compliments of the management in view of your first visit."
Padmé lifted her glass and smiled at her companion. They clinked their drinks together in a toast and smiled. For once, it appeared that Dormé had chosen something that they both could enjoy, and for a moment, Padmé forgot about the leather that encased her body, the flexisteel crop she had placed upon the table, and the mask that disguised her features.
That is, until yet another beautiful Twi'Lek, this one with green skin, stepped onto the stage to make an announcement.
"Welcome to another exciting evening at Discretions, Coruscant's most exclusive pleasure club."
"Pleasure club!" Padmé repeated as Dormé grinned shakily.
"For our first entertainment of the evening, by demand performance, the Madam at table three has commanded her sub to dance for us. Please show your appreciation for Number Twelve."
At that point, the previously stoic audience erupted into cheers and hollers, as a woman at table three dressed similar to Padmé, stood up, waving around a card with the number 12 on it, whooping and yelling louder than anyone in the crowd.
The curtains opened and out stepped a man dressed in Jedi robes, drawn in the middle and held fast by his crossed arms. His face was hidden by his drawn hood and Padmé leaned forward, suddenly more interested than she should've been, but at the same time, appalled. Surely, this wasn't a real Jedi. Surely, neither a Padawan nor a Master would submit themselves to such a situation or even be present in such an establishment.
The music crescendoed, the strobe lights flashed, and the robe dropped, revealing a man in his prime, muscular, well built, and stocky. It could be anybody, Padmé decided. Any human male in good physical condition. The bronze hair that reached shoulder level was not a give away, and the animal print mask he wore matched the g-string that hid his most prominent features.
The dancer moved erotically on the stage, much to the pleasure of the women and men who cheered him on from beneath the stage. He gyrated his hips, thrust his pelvis, and twirled and twisted in rhythm to the music. He was a good dancer, but Padmé was more interested in seeing his face. She had met most of the Jedi and still could not believe that this man was authentic.
That is, until the strobe lighting ceased and a single spotlight followed the man's movements as he literally crawled up center stage on his hands and knees, creeping along like the wild cat he was pretending to be. He brought his head up and met Padmé's gaze, and she gasped out a name, hoping and praying that she was wrong.
"Obi-Wan?"
The dance ended with a twisting leap and a slide upon his knees, with the stage going black and the crowd going wild. When the lights came back on, the Jedi was still in a kneeling position, and the woman who had displayed his number approached the stage with a smirk and a collar in her hand. To Padmé's amazement, Obi-Wan accepted the leather strap about his neck, which was clasped tightly and then attached to a long, thin chain. He followed the leather-dressed woman off the stage, his head bowed in a subservient manner, and together they left the stage and observing area, traveling to the rear of the room and through a wide double door.
"Where is she taking him?" Padmé leaned over to Dormé who shrugged her shoulders. "I thought you did your research!" The senator hissed. "Did you know that Obi-Wan was here?"
"I..." Dormé stammered. "I knew some Jedi were here, but I had no idea he was. Honest, MiLady!"
"Is she taking him back there to...to..."
"One has to assume." Dormé answered quickly, saving her employer some embarrassment. "What's even more surprising is that she's a dom."
"I've been meaning to ask you about that." Padmé replied, crossing her arms in aggravation. "Exactly what does this gettup supposed to mean?"
"If I understand correctly," Dormé explained, "There are three roles to be played here. One is a submissive. Do you see everyone with white on?"
Padmé looked about the room. She saw males donning white leather vests, and females white leather bodysuits, much like hers. All of varying styles.
"A submissive does what the term says. They submit to someone else's authority. The other is a neutral, which is the role I'm playing. They can go either way. Sub, or dom. Dominants take control, boss their partner around. They're authoritative and take charge."
"I'm bossy, huh?" Padmé teased, though she was still disturbed with what she had witnessed. "So, the woman, the dominant who took Obi-Wan away is taking him to perform sexual favors for her?"
"Not necessarily. She may make him lick her boots and that's all."
"That's ridiculous." Padmé spouted.
"It's an exercise of subservience and giving up control. Some people consider it therapeutic." Dormé argued.
"You think I need therapy? Is that why you dragged me here?"
"Sh!" Dormé attempted to quiet her friend, knowing that Padmé was losing her patience. Maybe it was time to come clean. "I brought you here because you've been quite impossible to live with lately. You've been on edge, very irritable, impatient, and yes, bossy."
Her admission, however, didn't seem to help the situation, as Padmé leaned forward, her brows furrowing dangerously. "You don't honestly believe that me slapping an animal collar around some poor man's throat and leading him about with a leash is going to make me happy, do you?"
"No. I don't think that's what you need." Dormé leaned forward, matching Padmé's posture.
"Then what is it I need? You seem to have all the answers."
"Sex."
There. She said it. One simple word for a complex problem.
Her employer's reaction was pretty much what Dormé had expected. Padmé sat across from her completely dumbfounded, her mouth having gaped open.
"You're incredible, and I'm leaving."
To her disappointment, Dormé knew that the senator had made up her mind, and she grabbed the crop from the table and followed Padmé out.
"Leaving so soon?" Turlana asked them as they made their appearance in the foyer, heading toward the dressing rooms.
"Yes, I'm afraid so." Padmé answered back as she walked, stopping abruptly and turning. "Tell me, the performer number twelve, has he been coming here long?"
"Oh yes. For several months, two or three nights a week. He's our most popular sub."
"Sub?"
"Yes. He is a submissive and will only be with a complete dominant."
"Interesting." Padmé responded, although Dormé knew she was being completely sarcastic. "Tell me. If I wanted to reserve his time, how might I go about that?"
"You simply pay the fee and submit your request." Turlana answered. "Be sure to arrive early though, right after opening time if that is your desire. Like I said, he is quite popular."
"Thank you."