Dromund Kaas, 3638 BBY
Darth Doragon walked through the market Kaas city. He was over two meters in height wearing a long black coat with a hood that he pulled up over the metal mask that formed a rigid, geometric, screaming face. A black-finished lightsaber hung from his belt that clinked with every heavy step of his boots.
His master, Darth Marr, had gifted him a great deal of credits as a reward for a successful hit on a rival and had insisted he spend it on something special to entertain himself during the off hours. For the weak and servile, that meant a trip to a salacious cantina, or one of the red-light districts across the empire.
But for a true lord of the Sith, he didn't have to rent his thrills. He could pick the finest available and install them as a feature of his ship, his home, his office. Nothing was out of his reach, and with a master on the Dark Counsel, virtually nothing could be denied to him.
The slave markets of Kaas city were always busy. Slavers from all over the galaxy brought their catches to the capitol for sale, displaying them in any creative way they could, for whatever they were best suited for.
He strolled through, casually examining wookies for sale for labor, along with iridonians, humans, and twi'leks. Trandoshans were for sale as bodyguards, and litter across the market were girls of every race, color, and shape. He stopped in front of a cart that had an obese human male standing over a twi'lek girl.
She was a rich sky blue with dark green eyes. Her lekku were streaked with sharp stripes that that wound their way down the tendrils. She was slender, sleek, and her skin glistened in the faint sun overhead. A white cloth had been wrapped around her chest and a loincloth hung from her waist, and she had been gagged by a metal bit that wrapped around her mouth and locked under her lekku. She couldn't have been any older than twenty.
The man noticed the Lord's interest and smiled broadly, "Ah, you have an interest in the girl, my Lord."
"Maybe." Came his voice through the modulator on his mask.
"This one comes at a steep discount. There are of course, catches, with such things."
"What's the catch?"
"She isn't… hmmm… broken in yet."
"What does that mean?" Doragon asked.
"She has a little fight left, she hasn't been taught her place in the galaxy well enough yet." The man dragged thick, dirty fingers over the top of her head, and she jerked away, her throat making a sound of revulsion.
"I've come into some free time, the effort of taming her might be a fun hobby. What else do you have?"
"I've recently been restocked, my Lord. I'm flush with hobbies for you to choose from. See over here." He gestured to a woman whose hands had been bound with cloth bindings. She was wearing an erotic dress that wove across her gently tanned body covering just enough to tantalize. She had long brown hair and bright brown eyes on an angular face.
"This one is considerably more expensive, but she comes ready to play."
The woman looked up at Doragon with a submissive smile, "I'll serve you in any way, my Lord." Doragon reached out a gloved hand and ran it over the woman's face who parted her lips erotically enclosing them around his thumb. He pulled his finger free and examined her. She was a perfect physical specimen, mid-twenties, every curve meant to lure in the eye driving a desire to touch.
"She is something." Doragon said with more breath in his voice than he intended.
"Go on, give our great master a sample." The slaver said knocking the woman with his knee. She rose dutifully and rolled back her shoulders to expose her full chest. He reached out and felt it, she made quiet sounds as he groped her, clearly thrilled by his touch.
"You would look good, dancing in the common room of my ship, shackled to a table so I always know where to find you."
"Why chain me to a table when you could chain me to your bed. Or… your guest's bed. I can make lots of people happy."
He stood up and paced back over to the twi'lek girl looking over the limber, blue, figure who looked up at him with reluctance. He reached out his hand to touch her face and she recoiled away. He laughed into the mask.
"This girl," scoffed the slaver, "I'll be glad to be rid of her."
"It's as though no one has disciplined her at all." Doragon said looking up at him.
"I find that physical reprisal leaves unsightly marks on my creatures. For those shopping with your interests, I have a different solution." He reached under his cart and pulled out a metal bottle with a cork stop and popped it open. "This should help with her rotten mood."
He overturned the bottle and dumped pink liquid onto the girl which splashed across her head, running down her lekku, neck and chest and all across her back. She squalled into the gag and squirmed at the cold drink he had poured on her.
"What is that?" Doragon asked.
"Zeltron spiced wine. It's more effective when its drunk, but this is a strong enough vintage that we should see her behavior dramatically improve."
The fat, balding man smirked and reached down roughly grabbing one of the tendrils on the girl's head. She pulled away but not sharply- tugging on lekku could be quite painful. He rubbed it in his fingers watching her eyes sag and hearing her start to make noises.
"Give it a try while the wine is working." He said handing the long fleshy cord to him.
Doragon rubbed the slick, wet, appendage between his fingers watching the blue girl's body go from defensive to subjugated. She moved from sitting on her knees to resting on her hands and knees. Her hips flexed subtly, and she was panting and making quiet squeaks and cries.
Doragon started sliding his hand up and down the lek watching her eyes close and hearing the noises through her muzzle become more and more sexual. Her legs parted and her back dipped, heaving into the muzzle as she lost control of her body. Suddenly she groaned and shook, her legs and stomach quaking for several moments, her shoulders sagging as she climaxed on the public street.
The slaver ran his fingers over her head, "Good girl, isn't that better?"
She looked up at Doragon with a humiliated, pathetic expression, still spasming at the slightest touch. Doragon let go of the lek and stood up. "How much?"
"15,000 credits." The man said confidently.
Doragon bored into the man's mind with the force, shaping it to his will in moments, "5,000."
"A wonderful bargain for an esteemed Lord, 5,000." He handed the credits to the man.
"Have her delivered to chambers in the Sanctum, Darth Doragon. I expect her by the afternoon." He handed him another 500 credits, "And a case of that Zeltron wine to go with it."
"My pleasure to serve you my Lord, enjoy her." The slaver ran his grubby hand across her cheek and she turned away.
"Slaver," Doragon said flatly.
"Yes my lord."
"Don't touch my property." He snapped.
Nearly an hour later Doragon entered his chambers, the doublesided door sliding open as he approached down the dark metal hallway illuminated by dim red lights. The foyer of his chambers were empty. The dark room was littered with Imperial banners, shelves bearing Sith artifacts and a metal table surrounded by deep cushioned chairs.
His boots thudded on the black tile floor as he approached the table and stopped, pulling the hood back to reveal his mask covered his entire head, fingers clicking fasteners open. He pulled the mask off revealing a shaved head. One side of his face along his left eye had been badly burned leaving the skin red and warped, a scar stretched over his nose and his face wore a permanent scowl over a neatly trimmed beard.
He set the helmet on the table, his amber eyes almost luminous in the dark never looked over at the cage against the wall wherein sat the delicate, blue, alien- shackled at the ankles and wrists, metal bit in her mouth.
"You no longer need those." He said quietly flicking his finger lazily. The shackles fell off her wrists and ankles and the bit opened dropping from her neck and face. He moved his hand again and the cage door clicked and gently swung to halfway open.
"Come here." I said cooly. She shuffled to her feet and walked out of the cage, standing nervously near him.
"Here." He reiterated irritably, his hand shot up and she lifted from the ground being pulled helplessly through the air and being dropped to her feet again very close to him. Her eyes were now glued to him in fear.
He looked her over, pacing around her in a circle. She winced as he felt one of her lekku, then ran a knuckled under her angular chin and fingers across her slender, flat, stomach. He smirked at her obvious blending of fear and hatred.
"You would make a spectacular Sith, fear and anger fuel our power." He stopped, standing in front of her. He could feel her hatred billowing out from her like a fire. It warmed him, thrilled him to sense her pure raging hatred giving way to the fragrant smoke of terror.
He paced behind her looking over her taught back, narrow shoulders, and the crease of her butt visible under the cloth that made no effort to hide her. He reached his hand up, his fingers catching the cloth as he took a handful of blue flesh and gripped it. She tensed and seethed.
He let his mind wander into hers as he squeezed the soft, firm, mass in his fingers, his mind drinking in her fury. His other hand reached up and grabbed the end of a lek and began to feel it between his fingers. There was a spark in her, touching the tendril had sent a shot of urgency through her. He couldn't tell if she was still buzzing from the wine or if her lekku were just that sensitive. He didn't care.
He felt the tail gently between his fingers and tickled the tip. Her body tensed and she took a sharp breath. Her thoughts were clouding, the fire of rage was beginning to choke and smolder, through her mind he could feel her body lighting up from the contact with her head-tails.
He let both go and turned her around. Her expression was flat, as though she were lost, drugged- but the disgust rested behind it. He reached out and felt one of her breasts, grabbing it until it filled his palm and squeezing. Her eyes sagged then narrowed into glares.
"I hate you." She hissed.
"You hate me," He said cooly continuing to grope her, watching her face, his mind letting the waves of choked, confused, fury waft across him, "But you like this." He pulled his fingers back squeezing just her nipple through the top and she gasped. He smirked at her reaction, feeling the tip expand and tighten at his touch.
"You know, animals often display bright colors when they're ready to mate," He paced around her again, "to breed." He ran his hand along a lek that ran down to the small of her back threading it through is fingers. She shuddered. "It's no wonder your race make such coveted and craved decorations and toys. Your bodies cry for attention."
She winced as he let his fingers flick the end of one lek then the other, her knees giving and her breath catching. He intended to keep toying with her, but he sensed a presence enter the chamber, and footsteps confirmed. His temper rose quickly, and he turned to greet the interruption.
His apprentice, Jezebel. Jezebel had been hand selected by him from the Academy on Korriban. A young woman of about twenty-five, with a delicate but athletic build. She wore a black top, ribbed with metal armoring and sleeveless. Never one to shy away from attention the top split down the middle all the way to her naval exposing through lace threading everything on the way down. Tight leather pants that were painted across fit legs wrapped around her above heavy boots.
"Master, what is this slug doing here?" She snapped, yellow eyes sizing up the twi'lek quickly beneath blonde hair in a tight, long, braid.
"Mind your tongue apprentice." He snapped, "This is slave is just learning her place in my service." He turned her face towards his and smiled, "Isn't that right?" She pulled her face away.
He smirked and looked up at his apprentice. "What do you want?"
"Darth Mortalin has been killed, the Counsel wants you to step into his office on Korriban to oversee new trainees."
He dropped his hand from the girl's tendril irritably. "More of Darth Baras' machinations no doubt."
"No one is saying it out loud but that seems to be the case." She said her eyes not leaving the blue girl in front of her master.
"Very well, prep the ship and we will leave in the morning."
She looked from the girl to Doragon, "Master, molesting alien girls is the pastime of gangsters and spice addicts, what's with this?"
He took a deep thoughtful breath. "I know, but the shame of enjoying such a lowly animal is stoking, and besides, touch her." Jezebel looked at him quizzically.
"Touch her." He said more emphatically.
Jezebel reached out and put a hand on the girls chest, letting her palm slide down to a breast where she reluctantly groped. The twi'lek winced and bit her lip. Behind her, Doragon rubbed a lek with his hand and she began shifting in place.
"Feel her hatred, her confusion. She hates us, but she can't help but be overwhelmed with the sensations." He said, watching as his apprentice let the force carry the girl's feelings to her mind. Slowly her hand on the girl's breast became more deliberate, relishing the conflict their contact was creating. He felt his apprentice's immediate disgust at being thrilled by the roaring emotion she was feeding on.
"She is a feast." He said.
His apprentice's eyes watched the twi'lek fighting herself as hands taunted and teased some of her most sensitive places while hate raged for herself and her captors. Jezebel dragged her fingers down the exposed chest and stomach and slid her fingers under the cord that held up the pitiful loin cloth. The girl's reaction was immediate, letting out a soft cry, her knees giving.
The green eyes shut tightly, and she panted, overwhelmed by the pleasurable sensations as the blonde woman stroked between her legs. Jezebel's eyes bored into the alien girl now, drinking in her pleasure, her hate as her bare finger slid against slick folds under the cloth. The girl hated her, she wanted her to stop- but not yet.
But she did stop, pulling her hand out of the cloth and rubbing wet fingers together looking at them, then at the girl in disgust. "You're right of course, she is a fountain of hate and fear." She looked up at her master, "You should entertain yourself in more esteemed ways. This is after all, the sanctum of the Sith. Sell her to a cantina where she belongs."
"If Darth Skotia can have those monstrous lizards as his bodyguards," He reached under the cloth and felt the soaking wet slit between her legs. She gave a pained cry, buckling at the knees. He put his other hand at her throat and held her up as he ran his finger back and forth. She moaned loudly into Jezebel's angry face, unable to control her voice or the grinding of her hips. "I can keep a little blue plaything around the office."
He spoke over her as she groaned with an open mouth, her body convulsing into another climax. Droplets hit the ground below her and Doragon let her fall to her hands and knees, her hips bucking and jerking, the lines in her back flexing as she shook.
"Now," He continued, "Unless you want to hold her down, go prep the ship. You're dismissed."
Jezebel looked down at the girl panting for breath, drops fell to the floor between her legs. She sniffed in annoyance and turned on her heel to leave. Doragon watched her go with a smirk. Jezebel could feign disgust all she wanted, but he could feel her thrill at being made to play with the little welp.
After he heard the chamber door seal he turned away from the twi'lek, still on her hands and knees, lekku hanging off her blue head and shoulders. He strode over to the crate next to the cage where she'd been left for him, lazily waving his hand so that the lid flew off and thudded loudly to the ground.
"What is your name, little thing?" He called out behind him reaching down for a black metal bottle and pulling it out. He turned and walked back to her. He waved his hand again and her torso shot up out of her control so she now perched on her knees. "Name."
"Sapphire." She said in a strained voice.
"That's a fitting name for you, Sapphire." He popped the bottle open, noticing how her eyes followed it. "Now, some rules for you. I have a deep wealth of resources in the Empire, and I can keep you very comfortable in your servitude, so long as you keep me, anyone else I need… so comfortable. Do you understand?"
"Yes master," She said in a flat, defeated voice.
He waved the open bottle watching her eyes, "You want some of this?"
She didn't answer. He stuck his finger into the opening and turned the bottle over pulling out a wet finger. He reached the finger out and put it to her lips. Reluctantly she took it and sucked the wine from it, tasting the tartness from her own body mixed with it. The more she cleaned from his finger the more she wanted. He chuckled feeling the suction of her lips intensify before pulling his finger free and wetting it in the bottle again.
This time she didn't hesitate cleaning the wine from his finger quickly, and continuing to suck his finger. Her pupils started to dilate looking up at him and her hips stuck out just a little more. The wine was working, and she was very low tolerance to it.
His mind was overwhelmed by the intense heat of chemically induced desire that poured out of her. It battled her hatred for her subduer the two spiraling in tandem shaking her resolve and clouding her mind.
He yanked the finger from her mouth and grabbed his lightsaber from its hook tossing it to a near by chair before undoing the belt that it had been attached to. She watched, her expression one of dread and fear, but her eyes dilated further. He undid his trousers letting them fall exposing his rigid, large, member that bobbed in front of her nose.
He gathered her lekku in his wine-wet fingers twisting them up painfully so he held them in his fist and pulled her face forward. His tip collided with her lips and he pushed his way into her mouth. The wine on his hands was rubbing into the soft flesh of her lekku, priming her urge to seduce, to mate, more. Instead of being sickened by the feeling of his shaft on her tongue she was urged to feel it, to run it across every pulsing fold and vein.
She felt his grip moving her into a back-and-forth movement and let him, her mouth stroking his shaft, her tongue playing along it. Her mind spun she couldn't help but let him do what he wanted. Her shoulders slouched forward, and her legs were spread open, and she started moving on her own. Doragon didn't ease his grip on her tails, making her pull against them to bob back and forth.
The hotter her hate for him burned the more her mind choked on aggressive lust. She took the thick, stiff, cock as deep into her mouth as it would fit tugging on it as she pulled away and sliding her tongue under as she leaned forward, it pulsed in her mouth, and was hot on her tongue. Her eyes watched his stoic, damaged, face- trying to hide the immense enjoyment of her suckling him.
Suddenly his grip on her lekku tightened fiercely and she groaned around his shaft in pain. His member swelled and hot, savory, cum began pumping forcefully out of him, jetting against the back of her throat making her gag, and pooling on her tongue in rapid volume.
He let go of her and she wrenched back with a loud sob and wretch. White seed spilled out of her mouth and down her chin and neck, running down her chest between her barely covered breasts. She swallowed the rest heaving for breath. His cock dangled in front of her, still draining remaining cum onto the floor.
He overturned the bottle, still in his hand and poured a splash of wine onto the seed he'd leaked onto the floor and watched as she leaned over and licked both up dutifully.
"Little Sapphire, my new favorite toy."
