Dev'lia the red-furred Bothan growled sensually as he leered down upon the naked blue-skinned Twi'lek woman who lay helplessly on his office desk. The woman - Relisa, he thought her name was - looked back up at him, not saying a word but nevertheless pleading with her eyes to not be violated.
But to Dev'lia - or "Devvy," as he had often liked to be called by his dancers - what he was doing wasn't a violation; no, it was liberation... liberation for himself anyway. When he first saw Relisa dance for him, he knew that he had to... try her out.
So he thrust into her, much to Relisa's plaintive mewls; and he did it again, and again, and again. Occasionally, he would feel for her body with his clawed, furry hands, taking care not to scratch one inch of her beautiful, turquoise body; damaged goods weren't going to gain a lot of attention, or, more importantly, credits on the stage. Besides, why would he ever want to damage a beauty such as this?
Dev'lia nearly shuddered and almost released himself into Relisa as he leered down upon her again; her mewls were so much more invigorating, he couldn't help but growl in delight once more. But in spite of that, he managed to control himself long enough to make sure that he got all of his "mileage" out of Relisa.
Two minutes of hard, continuous thrusting later, the Twi'lek finally shrieked in a mixture of both delight from the orgasm that she just experienced and the trauma that Dev'lia didn't care that he left in her mind. A second after that, the Bothan manager of Devvy's Dirties finally allowed himself to release his semen - which he knew wouldn't create any viable offspring in the Twi'lek - into Relisa's unwilling form.
Dev'lia then slumped onto his victim, breathing hard as his form was weighing in on her.
"Devvy, I... I can't breathe..."
"Oh, my apologies, my dear," Dev'lia said as he slowly pushed himself off the Twi'lek, pinning her wrists against the table while he did it. He then crouched to begin picking up his clothes, expecting Relisa to do the same for herself.
But that was when he felt more than heard Relisa trying to attack him from behind. He whirled away from her, standing up back to his full height at the same time, and raised his hands up in time to stop the now-crazed Twi'lek jumping onto him.
Dev'lia matched Relisa's manic screams with a low growl that imbued menace in lieu of sensuality. Regardless of the Bothan's fierce growl, however, Relisa continued to try desperately to claw her hands for her rapist's eyes.
And that was when Dev'lia allowed his clawed hands to sink into Relisa's wrists. The Twi'lek's manic screams turned to pain and shock as blood started to stream down both of her upraised arms.
Abruptly, Dev'lia then ripped his claws out of Relisa's arms, sending her to spin across the room where she ended up back on the desk. The flesh on both her arms were now in tatters, and blood now ran freely from her arms, seizing her into greater shock than before as the life was being drained out of her at a gradual, steady rate.
Dev'lia tilted his head in mild disappointment as he watched the writhing Twi'lek wring in her death throes on his desk. "What a shame," the Bothan said aloud.
He was about to give her that bonus that she said she needed; how dare she attack the man who would have given it to her?
Shaking his head in exasperation, Dev'lia then bent down again and began reaching for his clothes, which he put on in their expected order; gold-plated pants, a silver shimmersilk shirt, and his new shiny black boots made specifically for Bothan anatomy. When he was all done dressing back up, he reached for the body of the now-still Relisa.
He grabbed the corpse by the elbows and dragged her off his white metal desktop toward his office's right wall. There, he released one of the dead Relisa's arms to press a secret button that no one but himself - and the technician who installed it - could have known about. The section of the wall beneath his waist opened up to reveal an incinerator unit that Dev'lia made sure would break down every molecule of Relisa until she was completely vaporized; he got around the issue of dealing with fumes a long time ago, and installing a chimney in a public nude bar would have attracted too much suspicion, even on a world like Nar Shaddaa.
Actually, Dev'lia thought morosely as he hefted Relisa's corpse into the incinerator before closing the door, having to say or think "even a world like Nar Shaddaa," as much as it was technically a moon, in that context was no longer the case. Ever since the moon was reclaimed by the now-weakened Hutts roughly seven years before - sometime after the Battle of Yuuzhan'tar that ended the Yuuzhan Vong War - Nar Shaddaa, and by extension Nal Hutta, had unofficially become extensions of the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances, which meant more strict law and order and thus less tolerance for rape and murder in Devvy's Dirties.
If there were any deities out there in the universe - and Dev'lia doubted that there were, except maybe for that Force of the Jedi's - the Bothan thanked whichever allowed for the fact that there were still dirty cops in the moon's Security Force that he could easily pay off for keeping incidents, like the one with Relisa just moments earlier, off the books. Too bad it was kind of a financial strain even with the profitable revenues of the bar, but Dev'lia understood that even in a life like his, compromises had to be made if his otherwise luxurious life were to continue.
At least his dancers had no families to speak of who might miss them, Dev'lia thought with some relief as he walked back to his desk, which was now stained with Relisa's blood. And the friends that each of these dancers had were only each other; and none of them dared to ask where one of their friends had gone if they didn't return from their boss's office, or else they might lose their jobs.
Dev'lia bent down to one of his desk's bottom drawers to pull out a translucent bottle of blood neutralizer - which Dev'lia saw was now half-full - and began spraying it on all of the areas in his office where Relisa bled. Half a minute later, all of the blood simply vanished as if by magic.
Except for the blood on Dev'lia's claws, and the red streaks that now streaked the bottle. The Bothan knew from secondhand accounts - through a past acquaintance of his who was in the slaving business before he was killed by a Jedi a couple years ago - that using a blood neutralizer on your hands would burn right through the flesh like hydrofluoric acid. So it was obvious that he was just going to have to wash his hands with some heavy-duty hand-sanitizer that he also kept in one of his desk's other drawers.
After washing his hands and making sure that they at least looked clean, Dev'lia took out a roll of paper towels in yet another drawer and used a few sheets to wipe the blood off of the neutralizer bottle. When that was done, he moved to place the bloodstained towel sheets to the same incinerator where he disposed of Relisa's corpse.
Once those sheets were all but burned to atoms, Dev'lia sat himself back down in his seat and sighed in weariness. Relisa was the sixth dancer in the past year who had dared to attack him. And while he was always prepared to get rid of them in case he had to murder them, as past experience from the pre-Yuuzhan Vong days had showed him, he was getting tired of having to dispose of such beautiful, luscious-looking women and girls.
Oh, yes, Dev'lia had an inkling that females like Relisa may have been a year or two beneath the minimum age range for consent, but he didn't much care so long as they appeared to be women. And consent wasn't really something that he looked for in his dancers anyway.
Still, he missed how easy it was to dispose of dancers who resisted him; back before the Vong invaded, he could just have his head of security come into his office, drag the bloodied corpse out, and take it out in full view of the bar and no one cared; and he didn't even have to bribe any corrupt cops to keep silent on it, since roughly ninety-five percent of the Security Force was corrupt back then anyway.
Now that Nar Shaddaa had a lot more respectability, he had to resort to tactics like the incinerator. And combine that with the bribes and this increased audacity on the part of his dancers to attack him every time he raped them, he was getting... fairly annoyed, it was safe to say.
He blamed this slight increase in attempted resistance against him on organizations like one of those matriarchal societies like the Hapes Consortium or those backwater Witches of Dathomir. Those places where women not only had rights but were altogether superior to men disgusted Dev'lia; from his worldview, women had to be beneath someone like him. If they weren't, then that would mean that everyone could be a dancer on his stage; and he had no interest in letting men there. He, after all, had no interest in men, and he was pretty sure that his customers didn't either.
Shrugging the nostalgia away, Dev'lia reached for yet another drawer for a datapad to begin plotting out his employees' payments. But just as he was about give account for his head of security's cheque, he heard a knock from outside his office's door.
"Hey, boss," Boranc, Dev'lia's head of security, "are you still busy with Relisa?"
"Not anymore," Dev'lia replied, not setting the 'pad down. "She left. What is it, Boranc?"
"There are two very pretty ladies who want to become part of the Dirties," Boranc replied. The Dirties was the name that Dev'lia gave to his bar's dancers. "You interested in meeting them?"
"Just a second," Dev'lia replied as he set down his datapad. He then reached beneath his desk and pressed a button that activated his personal ray shield, harvested from the now-destroyed body of an ancient Trade Federation droideka before pressing the button that unlocked his office's door. "Send them in."
The door then opened, and in walked two particularly attractive (and identical, much to Dev'lia's silent delight), light-skinned redheaded women dressed all in black; their boots were high heels, and their pants and blouses, which allowed good views of their flat midriffs and sizable cleavages, were skintight, leaving very little to the imagination.
And that's the way Dev'lia liked it; he didn't much care for sexy women that had to make him visualize what was underneath. He never much liked surprises, especially if they might be weapons of angry women who wanted him dead for one reason or another.
Still, there was a reason that surprises were called surprises; and even with whatever search Boranc or Jerlacca - Boranc's Wookiee companion and partner in Dev'lia's Dirties - gave to these two lovely ladies, one could never be too prepared.
And now that Dev'lia was getting past these women's physiques and attire, he was now starting to notice other things about them; their stances and postures looked a little too... formal. And not formal in a way that looked like they had been raised to act royally - although, now that he focused in on their faces, they did seem to look familiar - but their forms were executed in a way that made it look... militant.
Come to think of it, their clothes didn't really look all that much like dancer material, in spite of what their attire revealed about their bodies. Their clothes looked as if they were made for some practicality that he just couldn't pinpoint in his mind.
"I like your get-ups," the Bothan finally said to the twins.
"Thank you," the twin on the left replied.
"What are your names?" Dev'lia asked.
"I'm Trista," the same twin answered.
"I'm Taryn," the other followed.
Even their tones seemed to have this ineffable weight to them that he'd never seen in any of the previous women who had walked through his office door in all these years. They sounded like they commanded authority; and with that thought, Dev'lia was starting to think that they might not be dancer material if they didn't understand that, on the stage at least, they weren't men.
Still, Dev'lia was confident that he could break that spirit in them in time; and if not, well, there was always the incinerator...
Once he pressed the button that closed the door to his office, Dev'lia said, "Well, Trista, Taryn, I want you to strip for me. And do it in a way, as if you're trying to seduce an audience on stage. You've seen the most recent act outside, haven't you?"
"We have," the twins answered as one. Dev'lia couldn't help but note a tinge of disgust emanating from their unified tones. By now, Dev'lia knew, Puraka, one of the Togruta Dirties, was still doing her act on stage.
"Good," Dev'lia replied evenly. "Then I want you to take what you've seen and put your own spin on it. And if you fail to arouse me, then..." He tilted his head in thought. "I guess I'll just have to come up with a way for you to arouse me. But first..." He trailed off as he lifted a panel off to the side of his desk, where a series of buttons lay in wait.
Dev'lia pressed the topmost button, and a second later, the office was filled with erotic music.
"Go ahead," the Bothan said to Trista and Taryn.
Trista and Taryn looked at each other before looking back at Dev'lia. As one, they started to dance gracefully and seductively, but in a rather generic way; he'd seen it done a thousand times, but that didn't mean it couldn't be done just as well... or fail to arouse him.
And thankfully, the twins weren't failing in that. It wasn't long before they took off their blouses - slowly, oh, so, very slowly - before discarding them in separate directions across the room. Once they kicked off their boots and started to undo their pants, Dev'lia decided that would be the best time to undo his own.
Never taking his eyes off of Trista and Taryn, he noticed how they seemed to pause for just a short moment - as if they were perturbed at what he was now doing with his hairy groin - before they went back to their "recital."
Some time later, once they were all but down to their underwear, Dev'lia thought that he was about to unleash yet another load in as many minutes. But he decided to calm down his rhythm - he wanted to cum once they were completely naked.
Now they were reaching behind their bras. He could practically hear the hooks coming undone; Dev'lia didn't know how much he could take of this before his semen shot toward the ceiling.
As she slowly took off her bra with her left hand, Trista just as carefully reached her right hand toward her left breast.
And it was then that she quickly withdrew a small cylindrical device from within that cup of her bra, pressed one end of it, and threw it into the air. With her other hand, she kept her bra held against her body while using her free hand to catch the flung device, which was now a blaster that she aimed at Dev'lia.
Simultaneously, Taryn had taken out a similar cylindrical device and flung it toward Dev'lia's desk, where it latched onto the ray shield in midair. From there, the small machine crackled purple electricity that enveloped the entirety of the shield before fizzling Dev'lia's primary defense down to nothing.
"Turn that music off and put your hands in the air," Trista said as Taryn hooked her bra back on again. "Do it now, or I'll shoot you, you disgusting piece of male Hutt slime."
Now that reality had caught back up to Dev'lia, what with the coordinated activity that went by so quickly between the twins, he saw what his predicament was and stared back at Trista and Taryn in disbelief.
But that disbelief lasted for only a moment before he ducked beneath his desk, narrowly dodging the blaster bolt that Trista shot at him on his way down. There, beneath his desk, he grabbed the holdout repeating blaster and ducked back up to begin spraying rapid fire at the twins.
The mostly-naked women dropped to their stomachs before any of the bolts could hit their bodies. In response, Trista fired her own set of lasers toward Dev'lia, which he had already ducked beneath to hide under his desk once more. That lasted for only a second before he quickly leered to the left of his desk to launch a new stream of bolts for the twins, but they had already sprinted to their feet and headed toward the desk, rushing past the rapid fire headed their way.
They then vaulted over the desk, where they landed in graceful rolls on the other side of the office and just a few feet from Dev'lia. He retrained his repeater upon them, but at such close range, Taryn was able to kick the weapon out of his hands while Trista flipped the blaster in her hand so that its muzzle was now in her palm. She then smacked it across Dev'lia's head, knocking him unconscious.
Once that was done, the office door opened, and a tan-skinned woman with light brown hair, dressed in the uniform of a Hapan military captain, walked in with two armed guards at her side. Trista and Taryn stood at attention, forgetting for the moment that they were almost nude.
"What is the status of the target, Agents Zel?" the captain asked.
"Unconscious," Trista answered.
"But alive, Captain Grejana," Taryn concluded.
"Good," the captain said. "All the better that he face a proper Hapan execution for all that he's done."
Moments later, Dev'lia was in stuncuffs thanks to Trista, who had dressed back up with her sister, and they hauled the Bothan's unconscious form up, waking him up to face Grejana.
"You are the Bothan known as Dev'lia?" the captain asked.
He only growled in response.
"That is what I thought," Grejana replied. "You are under arrest for the disappearance of Agent Swera Helion three months ago." The captain then took out a datapad, activated it, and the face of a familiar dark-skinned woman hovered in the air. "Do you remember her? She had been sent in to investigate what you were doing in this bar out of a joint AG-Hapan operation. We never heard from her again. What did you do to her? Did you murder her?"
Dev'lia sighed. Of course he remembered Swera Helion. She posed as a potential Dirty and tried to outright kill him; but thanks to his droideka shield, the blaster bolt she sent his way ricocheted and hit her right in the chest, forcing Dev'lia to dispose of her body in the incinerator.
"We'll take that as a yes," Grejana said. "And we figured that you might have a defense such as a modified droideka shield; a lot of you scum these days like to employ it for personal defense, which is why Taryn over here used that miniature ion disruptor to short circuit your shield. So we were prepared for you this time. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of Hapan law. You have the right to an appointed attorney if you are unable to afford one. She then shifted her attention to Trista and Taryn. "Take him away, ladies."
Trista shoved the reluctant and cuffed Dev'lia forward and out of the office. Outside, he saw that the bar was being cleared out by Hapan and Alliance of the Galaxy soldiers; he also saw that Boranc, Jerlacca, and all the other guards were also being stuncuffed and led toward the exit of Dev'lia's Dirties, just as Dev'lia himself was.