Liaison Over Kamino
NOTES: This takes place directly after the pair escape Kamino. The idea came to me after their meeting in the hallway, as it seemed there was some sexual tension between the two and I had a 'what if' idea in my head. Be warned, this contains shameless smut , and alien-cyborg relations. Don't like the idea, don't read.
Indignation and rage pierced through Asajj Ventress as if it were ice in her veins.
Against her meticulous assessment of the operation, the plan to prevent further cloning on Kamino had failed. She had come to close to securing the DNA when the Jedi had, not for the first time, foiled her plans.
Now, as she sat abashed in the back of the General's shuttle, all she could do is meditate fearfully upon how her Sith Lord master would punish her.
Yet, the imminent possibility of a punitive measure from a Sith seemed to pale in comparison to the shame she felt as General Grievous admonished and almost revelled in her failure.
He sat no more than four meters in front of her, stiffly at his control panel with only the black abyss of space before him as they made their escape from the sapphire planet; the cacophony of exploding dreadnoughts and droid units echoing behind them as they penetrated the stratosphere.
Sound dissolved into a warping hiss as they entered hyperspace; the absence of light transitioning into a flashing blue with the thum of the hyperdrive.
"It will be a while before we reach the base" the synthetic, modulated voice lamented. "Did you hear me, witch?"
"I heard you" she spat. Her arms were folded tensely across her chest, doing her best to avoid eye contact with the cyborg before her. Out of the corner of her cerulean eyes, she saw his head recoil and turn back to the glass.
"I had warned you this might happen" he boasted. "Your failure due to your arrogance and incompetence will mean a devastating loss for the Separatist alliance"
"My failure?!" she rose to her feet. "The Count assigned both of us this mission. You are as much to blame as I am!"
The cyborg growled under his Durasteel mask, turning and facing her.
"And it was your fault we lost the Clone DNA!"
"As it was your failure to shut down the operation entirely!"
"It is no fault of mine that those diminutive battle droids are so ineffective" he protested, a modulated sigh huffed from his vocabulator.
"What do we tell the old man?" she asked, every word she uttered to former Kaleesh paining her more than the last.
He shook his head, tapping his steel talons upon the control panel.
"The Republic breached our communications. They were prepared for attack. There was nothing that could be done"
"Well, it's not exactly a lie" she acknowledged, stretching out her legs.
"To a Sith, it will not be a valid excuse either" he reminded her.
"You don't need to advise me in the ways of the Sith" She huffed, looking away once more.
"Of course not, my lady" he jeered. "Perhaps you should have accepted my offer of a droid escort"
Asajj's eyes flashed dangerously at him as he chuckled, the chair beneath him vibrating with every sonorous beat of laughter.
Two can play at that game, she thought mischievously.
"Why? Did you want an opportunity to hold my hand through the mission?"
The synthetic, coppery laughing halted. If he had a mouth – and cheeks, for that matter, she would have betted her bottom credit he would be blushing under that mask.
"That is absurd. You have a debased mind, witch" he croaked, and now he was the one avoiding eye contact.
"You don't know the half of it" she warned him, salaciously.
She had never pictured herself in a situation quite like this. Alone, with the general. In a confined space. Their first meeting had been a hellish experience for her; thrashed around a space station with Durge by a specimen resembling that of a Starfighter. She had deduced herself a test subject to a new brand of droid designed by the Geonosians; one superior to the Super battle droids.
She had no idea that underneath that thick, chrome chassis was a former living, breathing being. One that was once flesh and whole.
Now all she could see remained of his organic shadow were the glowing, golden eyes that gazed out from under that skeletal mask.
Against her better judgement, she had found herself fascinated by him. Their rivalry only added fuel to the fire in that department.
Now, she closed her eyes; delving deep into the force to gain some insight into what he was feeling.. After all, he had never been so exposed to her before.
She was bewildered when she made that connection – virtually ingesting his emotions. It seemed there was more than a few vital organs remaining of his former self – a vast whirlwind of his mortal emotions and pursuit of pleasures remained. She delighted in this knowledge. Knowledge, the non-force-sensitive would be none the wiser to.
This journey was going to be painful. Thought Grievous.
He was drowning in embarrassment and anger at the failure of their mission. Even more so that the bald witch was holding him accountable.
She crouched against the wall behind him with one slender, smooth leg slipping from beneath her slit skirt, extending onto the floor
The pearlescent glow from hyperspace reflected upon it, illuminating it. He had to keep his eyes away to stop himself staring at her.
Get yourself together. She isn't even a Kaleesh. Then again, I'm not much of one either anymore…
He shivered when he heard shuffling behind him, and saw the witch stand up and strut towards him in a most feline way.
He locked eyes with her, questioning her with sight alone.
"I had a cramp in my leg" she told him looking out the window. He once again found himself gawking at the exposed top of her chest.
"How long did you say it would be until we reached the base?"
"An hour or two" he stuttered, almost trembling at the close contact. What happened next was something he could never have concocted a plan for, as she squatted down and seated herself on his lap.
"What do you think you are doing?!" he grumbled as his the contact sensors on his legs registered the heat of her body as she pressed her rear into his lap.
"I said I had a cramp. I don't really desire the floor, or standing for a full hour or more if you say"
What game is she playing?
"Besides, you did offer me a droid escort…"
"I am not a droid" he warned her, awkwardly stretching his arms across the chair.
"Oh, I'm aware of that, even more so now.."
Just when he thought he had reached his limit of surprises for the day, she rotated her body so she was face to face with him. Her slender legs straddled him, falling down each side of his Durasteel hips.
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
She did not answer, merely leered at him with her pale eyes libidinously. At that moment, it was as if a fire was lit within him. One he believed to be extinguished long ago. Time seemed to stay still, in his surroundings, in his shell of a body. As if he was falling into an intoxicated abyss. He loomed in fear, apprehension, and mostly desire.
He gently lifted one of his clawed hands and ran a talon up her thigh – tracing it from knee to hip. She grinned deviously at him, pressing her core in further to his groin.
He looked back at her as his long, metal finger slithered under her skirt, his eyes nagging at her for permission.
A lick of her lips gave him an answer, as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss in the vents that represented his mouth.
He could not fully reciprocate, but moaned in ecstasy and submission; wanting her to continue.
As she continued her oral ministrations, he lowered his finger – rubbing the warm bud of her core up and down. Now she moaned in desire, thrusting slowly into his hand.
He slipped her finger further down – slipping two digits into her warm entrance.
His fingers had the most contact sensors out of any part of his limbs, and the feeling of her heat was intoxicating to him.
He continued his prodding of her inner walls while his cold, metal thumb worked it's magic on her clit.
Her erratic and pleasured breathing continued in a symphony until he hit her special spot and she reached her peak – moaning in a euphoric crescendo as her body pulsated with release.
She went limp in his arms, collapsing into him as he removed his fingers and wrapped strong, metal arms around her in a heated embrace.
"You aren't so boring after all" she teased, rubbing his shoulders. "Is there a way I can return the favour?"
Grievous chuckled under his mask. What she was about to be privy too could be considered the most highly classified in the Confederacy, as nobody but Grievous and his dearly departed doctor on Vassek were aware of.
"As a matter of fact…" Grievous yellow eyes grinned as he gently pushed her forward along his durasteel legs, extending his back further against the chair.
He reached a talon down and clicked a button hidden behind his synthetic hip-bone.
Asajj's eyes widened in astonishment as two panels departed, revealing a hidden compartment to which an enigmatic, fleshy appendage appeared – sprouting out several inches and rising to the occasion.
"You-"she was speechless, looking down at the synthetic cock before her. It was a pale, silvery colour that matched his armour – but not metallic. It was made of some type of synth skin, with veins bulging and a plump glans at the tip.
"You really got a cock made?" she asked playfully.
"I was not so willing to depart with the pleasures of the flesh" he defended himself. Though, in this lecherous situation, he no longer felt he needed to.
"Touch it. It will enjoy it.."
She reached her pale hand out and he shivered as he felt contact with his artificial member.
She gasped as she felt it pulsate within her tight grip, massaging it back and forth.
"You can feel it?"
"I can. Very well, in fact. It's connected directly into my brain – and heart. It is nowhere near as tactile and sensitive as the real thing, of course. But it gets the job done, in a manner of speaking" he sniggered suggestively – not needing to explain himself, judging by her wanton grin.
Asajj descended onto her knees, wasting no time in taking the General's member into her mouth. His head bucked back in euphoria as she rolled he tongue upon his cybernetic glans, breathy , modulated moans of pleasure slipped from his vocabulator as she continued her succour up and down his shaft.
"You are a thirsty little witch" he taunted her, placing one of his talons on the back of her bald head. She trembled at the contact on such a sensitive area.
He could not take any more of the foreplay, with such a long period of deprivation of the pleasure he craved so voraciously, he halted her oral attention, beckoning her to sit upon his lap.
"Such a sensitive body you have, witch" he said, gesturing towards her head. "Are you ticklish?"
"Very" she purred, positioning herself over his lap.
"I noticed you lacking in undergarments. Were you expecting a liaison like this?"
"Maybe I like to give my enemies a show before they perish"
Grievous laughed ecstatically at that, viciously placing a hand on each of her hips.
"Have you used this tool of yours before?" she quizzed, curiously. He shrugged in response.
"Only by myself"
"I'm honoured you would choose my as your first!"
"Now, is not the time to insult me. You better behave" he growled, tightening his grip on her hips.
"M-Make me-" she hissed, placing a hand on his cloaked shoulder.
He now jerked his hips forward, entering her warmth. He felt her twitch at the contact –and at the sudden stretching due to his impressive – synthetic girth. Once she was fully sheathed, she let out a relieving sigh, her nails digging into the fabric of his cloak.
She bucked her hips up and down, riding the mechanical member beneath her. Modulated groans escaped her salacious partner beneath her, years of tension being whisked away as the supple witch rode him with synchronous appetite. Beads of sweat accumulated on her chest as she thrusted up and down – the temptation of it all too much for Grievous who reached out and tore upon her indigo shirt, releasing her pale, taut orbs and fondling them with his clawed hands.
He could feel the tempo of their pleasure escalate with each thrust – building further to a point they gasped, moaned and groped anywhere they could as they reached their crescendo in a synchronised explosion of ecstasy, waves of euphoria engulfing them as they peaked in unison.
Ventress fell limply into his arms once more, the sheen of sweat dripping onto the silvery chrome casing of his chest. He stroked her bare back with his claw, another tracing up and down her thigh.
"So..." he started. Ventress fidgeted with her hips as she slid off of him. "What was it you were saying about me having nothing you could want?" he asked, gesturing down to the synthetic device she was very much still intoxicated from.
She rolled her eyes, swatting at his arm.
"You're no good at pillow talk" she retorted. He laughed and removed his cloaks from his shoulders, wrapping it around her as the shuttle whizzed through hyper space.