Politics, officially, is a clean, honest business meant to help lead the public into greatness, promising peace and security to the people they serve.
Of course, that's the textbook definition that nobody bought anymore. Underneath all the makeup and fake smiles was an entire system of corruption, blood money, and half-truths and half-lies - the one constant throughout history, time, and even space.
It was unfortunate, but the modern government and society were much too twisted and much too poisoned to try to play angel when surrounded by nothing but demons.
Everyone with a hint of decency were quick to learn this, with even some of the modern crime lords the galaxy feared reluctantly accepting this grim truth.
Despite this, even criminals obey certain laws. They all followed certain, unspoken rules to avoid an all out war, since even the scum of the galaxy needed some peace and quiet.
Of course, in order to uphold some of these "laws", a government needed to be formed. And since nobody wanted to constantly look behind their shoulders 24/7, the crime lords all agreed on democracy - a perverted form of the current Republic, and together, they formed an uneasy alliance called the Shadow Collective.
Jabba the Hutt, of course, served as the representative of the Hutts and of his people.
Lallani, a crime lady who was infamous for hiring mainly Mandalorian bounty hunters, served as the representative of the Quarren race, who were often called "Squid Heads." She had a rather semi-hostile rivalry with Jabba, hoping to one day trump him in the spice trade race.
And so on and so forth.
All in all, the Shadow Collective was made up of pretty much all of the major crime syndicates across the galaxy, which included (in order of power) the Hutt Clan, the Zygerrian Kingdom, the Pyke Syndicates, the Black Sun, and the Crymorah Syndicate, with the last group mainly consisting of a group of small criminal gangs that formed together in a hasty, but successful attempt to join the Collective.
It was a no-brainer that none of these groups liked each other, but they had three important rules that they always followed.
1. Do not initiate conflict with one another.
2. Keep the Shadow Collective a tightly guarded secret.
3. Answer "the call" whenever activated.
"The call" was essentially an emergency meeting that could only be used during times of crisis, be it the official government breathing down their necks, a band of vigilantes attempting to overthrow the collective, or if one of their own was declaring war on each other.
Currently, this meeting was taking place in Gardulla Hutt's Palace, where virtually all of the criminal overlords were present in the meeting room, be it via hologram or in person.
["So, what is it, Lom Pyke?"] Jabba's hologram sighed in his native tongue. It was 4 AM in the morning for him, and he never was a morning person. The hangover from last night's banquet certainly did not help with his already grumpy mood.
The elder Pyke just stood there wordlessly, his body swaying back and forth like a scarecrow in the wind.
"Such an insolent old man," Oruba the Hutt scoffed. "You know the consequences of pointlessly summoning this meaning, don't you?"
"Death, right?" the elder Pyke's head snapped upwards with a loud CRUNCH!, his eyes glowing red. Everyone in the room yelped as the Pyke began to let out a hoarse laughter.
["Who are you?"] Jabba demanded angrily. ["What is this nonsense?"]
The bewitched Pyke let out a dry cackle as he cracked his neck.
"The name's Darth Kyuubi. And this…puppet show is just a mere demonstration of one of the many things I can do. In this case, this poor fellow was so rude to me, rejecting my offer even though I took the time to give a well-planned speech. So I decided that perhaps actions would speak louder than words."
"...He's dead, isn't he?" Miraj Scintel, the Queen of Zygerria, finally said after recovering from her moment of shock. Her golden eyes glared bravely into the glowing-red eyes of the walking puppet, making him chuckle.
"Correct. However, I don't believe in wasting resources needlessly, so I decided to give this pitiful old body one last use. But enough showing off. As I said before, the name's Darth Kyuubi, and I am a Sith - the natural enemy of the Jedi. I'm sure you've all paid attention in your history lessons, yes?"
Nobody dared to speak, but the pitiful whimpering from Azmorigan, the slovenly Jablogian who was currently representing the Crymorah Syndicate in person, told him all he needed to know.
"Eh, good enough. So, let's cut to the chase: I have control of Death Watch; one of the largest groups of Mandalorian warriors. And I need a lot more hands on deck in order for my dream of conquest to happen. You in?"
Jabba the Hutt grunted out a sentence in swift return.
"Mmm, no credits, unfortunately. I, however, am not asking. No, I'm telling you to either work under me in return for the glorious future, or die."
This earned him a mix of scoffs and laughter, before various men and women suddenly sprung up from behind the large desks.
"Mm, alright, have it your way."
Without warning, the holograms of the other Shadow Collective members vanished, with some of them leaving with a look of horror and a scream. This left the ones physically present (except for Jabba's hologram) to stare at the empty seats in confusion.
BOOM!
The guards and the Shadow Collectives alike ducked or yelled as the entrance to the meeting room exploded. Out of the smoke and fire came out an army of Mandalorian warriors as they unleashed blaster fire and flames onto them.
A Twi'Lek mercenary that moved to defend Oruba the Hutt met a grisly end as he and his colleagues absorbed a wave of fire. The second wave that foolishly moved in was gunned down immediately.
"Fall back, fall back!" Sugi shouted as her group led the other Hutts into safety.
"You fools, wait for me!" Oruba squealed, but just before they could return for him too-
SHRRRIIEEEK! BOOM!
Oruba let out a wail as he was knocked onto his stomach. One of the Mandalorians had fired a missile between the Hutt and the bounty hunters, knocking the two parties away from each other.
The female bounty hunter looked between the Hutt and the armored warriors, before she took off with her group.
…
"You Mando fuckers!" a weequay shrieked, before a golden blaster bolt nailed him in the head. A Gamorrean joined him as his arms slowly attempted to cut down a helmed warrior, only to let out an ear-piercing shriek as it felt a glowing, black blade sever its body into two.
"Goddamn, this lightsaber's beautiful!" Darth Kyuubi grinned, staring at the Darksaber in his hands. He then flung it to his right, where it pierced a nameless Hutt right through his thick skull.
"No!" Sugi shouted in horror as their client fell down onto the floor dead.
The Darksaber yanked itself out of the giant pile of fat, returning to its new master's hands.
"Ah, don't mourn his pitiful life," the Sith tsked with his new saber. "I just reduced the obesity rate in this galaxy by 15% by doing what the Republic should've done years ago-WOAH!"
He was forced to duck, deflect, and leap over a flurry of blaster bolts as the bounty hunter group that failed to safeguard his life began to rain their vengeance upon him.
Rahab and Sabine moved to back him up, but he just raised a fist at them.
"Don't worry about me, ladies, I can handle them myself."
The two warriors obeyed as they lowered their guns. If the princess of the Wren Clan wasn't wearing her helmet, the Sith Lord would've been able to see her glaring at him, praying that these bounty hunters would be the ones to gun him down.
Sadly, though, her hopes were dashed as he charged right at them. Deactivating his saber, he expertly dodged the hailfire of blaster bolts, before charging at the Zabrak bounty hunter.
"YOU-!" was all she was able to say as he landed a nasty punch onto her. She managed to block it with her arm, but she let out a shriek as a faint CRUNCH erupted from her forearm.
WHAM!
The leader of this mercenary group was sent flying with a gut-wrenching uppercut, with Latts Razzi and Embo catching her.
Embo frantically checked her vitals while Razzi moved to avenge her friend.
"You bastard!" she screamed as she whipped her grappling boa at him. The weapon/scarf moved with blinding speed as the deadly weapon whipped right for his throat-
*CRUNCH!*
Razzi let out a nasal yell as she was kicked back a few meters. Everything smelled and tasted like metal, and she didn't have to touch her nose to know that it was broken.
Embo and his companion looked down at their fallen companion, looked up at the Sith, then charged with a yell. His canine companion snarled as his dagger-like teeth aimed for his legs.
POW POW POW!
The Sith had to leap back as a furious wave of blaster bolts were unleashed from the bounty hunter's bowcaster. He spun around, kicking Embo's pet out of the way as contorted his body to dodge another round of blaster bolts.
"ENOUGH!" He suddenly began charging forward, having enough of this little game. Embo raised his blaster again, but stopped as he saw the Sith lord pick up his beloved pet by the throat. Upon seeing his companion let out a choked whine, he dropped his weapon and charged at the man himself.
The Sith lord tossed the beast aside, and the two men clashed with their fists. Gloved hands slammed into each other's body, hitting armor, clothes, and bare skin. Embo let out a curse in his native tongue as one blow nearly stopped his organs.
"TOO WEAK!" the Sith growled as he blocked a haymaker, countering with a brutal headbutt. The metal hat took the brunt of the brutal attack, but it still sent the bounty hunter crumpled to the floor, the shield now bent terribly.
Embo let out a pitiful moan as he struggled to stay awake. Rahab stepped up with her finger on her blaster, but her master raised a hand. She drew back her blaster, and the three of them watched as the mercenaries limped away, occasionally staring back at the Sith Master in fear.
"They're mercenaries, my dear. The minute their contractor died was the minute their loyalties did as well. Besides…"
He turned back to see a whole group of fallen guards and hired guns scattered throughout the floor, their weapons, bodies, and equipment decimated and cut down.
"Dead men tell no tales."
…
"Status report."
A male member of Death Watch stiffened as their new leader reentered the Shadow Collective's Conference Room.
"Sir, the Hutts and the other Collective members have escaped…except for this group."
He jabbed his rifle at a group of rounded up scumbags of the galaxy, who were now trembling with their arms raised up.
"Good work you guys," the wielder of the Darksaber nodded. "No worries, the others will come around. But in the meantime…"
He stepped up to the group of prisoners, starting off with the Hutt in the room.
"Give me names and locations of your brethren, and you will be more than welcome to join my future."
Oruba the Hutt whimpered as he managed to let out some weak protests in Huttese.
"...Fine. Then die."
SCHVRMMMM!
His crimson and black blade ignited, making the others step back as he moved to execute the Hutt.
"NOOOOOO!" the Hutt yelled, waving his stubby arms in the air. "HOGWA! HOGWA!"
"...Give me a location, then." his lightsaber lowered to the floor, its ominous blade humming dangerously close to the Hutt's belly.
"Tatooine! Tatooine!" Oruba pleaded.
"Jabba's Palace," Bo Katan noted.
"...Well yeah, no shit Jabba would be in his palace!" the Sith snorted. "C'mon, I need more than basic fucking knowledge. Give me more, or I'll start shaving some fat off of that body of yours if you know what I mean!"
The Hutt gulped, sweating buckets as he began to spill.
"They were quite a helpful bunch."
The pilots said nothing as they continued watching the hyperspace tunnel. Kyuubi, who sat on a metal box, let out a small sigh.
"...Well c'mon, speak to me here. Geez, what's a guy gotta do to get a nice conversation?"
They were obviously still a little shook at the fact that he butchered about half of their new recruits after the interrogation was over, and he did nothing to hide the fact that he enjoyed it. Rookies, he suspected.
"Maybe we can fuck instead?" Rahab purred. He could feel her large chest that she somehow hit behind all that armor press against his armored back.
"Heh, sounds like fun."
He suddenly turned around, slamming his lips against the tomboy Mandalorian's luscious pair, making her moan. The two pilots were glad that they kept their helmets on, which made peeking at the corners of their eyes much easier.
Just as he slid his hands underneath her jumpsuit, they jumped out of hyperspace.
As Rahab stomped away, muttering "not again", the Sith Lord stared at the desert planet in hunger.
Jabba swallowed down a goblet of exotic wine. Letting out a small belch, he ordered his servants to fetch him some more.
His hazy eyes returned their gaze to his two prized dancers. One of them was a lovely, green-skinned Twi'lek woman, who foolishly stayed behind to serve him despite being once granted the chance at freedom. The other was a Zeltron woman, whose beauty and virgin status caught his eye. Buying her was a lucky catch, and until recent events, he saw himself as a lucky man.
But no matter how loud the music rose, no matter how those lovely slaves of his danced in the dim, blue light, no matter how many drugs or drinks he consumed, it couldn't stop the fear from clouding his mind.
Fear.
He let out a small chuckle at that word. It has been a long time since he had felt true fear.
Fear was the tool his family and countless other crime syndicates used to hold control over the people. It was cheap and easy, and required very low maintenance to enforce. Execute a few people here and there, dangle some carrots and the whip in both hands, and hire a shit load of guns, and you're daimyo.
That's how the Hutt Clan rose to power many millennia ago, and that's how they kept it.
Looking back, Jabba finally could see how they've failed themselves. Time, money, and power has betrayed them, turning them from fearsome warriors into fat, slovenly kings that assumed they could get away with anything by throwing their names or credits at their problems.
Don't get him wrong, he and his family always knew that this was always a potential threat, and that there would eventually be someone foolish enough to raise arms and raze hell against their family. They just tried their best to not believe it, thinking that their fortune and army of thugs would protect them - their power and influence being so great that not even the ancient Republic and the Sith dared to cross their paths, or simply found them too useful to destroy. It helped that they never did dare to try to leave their territory, their silent agreement with the other two factions being that they minded their own business, and they could go along with their petty wars.
He just never thought that there would be a growing third faction at play.
Just then, his palace trembled as loud explosions boomed in the air, causing the festivities to come to a sudden halt.
Ah, this was it.
He knew that there was no running from this. Where could they run? They certainly weren't welcomed in any other parts of the galaxy, and their territory was pretty small, especially in comparison to the Republic. And even if that wasn't the issue, pride certainly was.
If he ran, then he would either live as a coward or die as one. That was something he and his family refused to do. If anything stuck with them throughout time, their warrior prides certainly did.
So this was the might of the Hutt empire. How…disappointing.
The planet of Tatooine barely had any space ships protecting it. Even after giving Jabba a good week to prepare since his declaration of his power seizure, all he could muster up for a planetary defense was a handful of gunships that belonged to the Shadow Collective.
Sure, it was better than a wall of cargo ships, which was all he had expected, really, but it was just target practice for the Mandalorians. They lost none of their own ships, including the stolen ones, and they invaded the desert planet with ease.
It was easy. Pathetically easy.
Death rained from above in the form of armored soldiers on jetpacks and spaceship cannon bolts. Parked ships and speeders were the first to go, combusting into large balls of flames and molten shrapnel. Then the guards outside were the first to go, either being blown to bits or being gunned down personally by the Mandalorians.
The first round was over before it could truly begin. The large, metal doors refused to lift itself to welcome the guests or to try to send more men to stop them.
"Open the door," Darth Kyuubi ordered, and the Mandalorian pilots squeezed their thumbs onto the trigger.
…
Gamorreans might've been stupid, intellectually-challenged beings, but the explosion that blew the mighty doors open to the palace sobered up the drunken pig-men in a heartbeat. Hobbling to their feet, they grabbed their weapons in a vain attempt to defend their master to the death.
Their efforts, while admirable to an extent, were still laughable, as their slow bodies and their foolishly chosen weapons did nothing for them as they were gunned down or cut down by the invaders.
The wiser ones fled, retreating to the first room they could find, but the warriors followed them, firing into the rooms to finish the job or simply tossing a thermal detonator before shutting the door.
They were worthless scum, hardly worthy of their weapons, but their lord's orders were clear.
…
Jabba downed his goblet as the blaster-fire grew unmistakably close. His dim-witted guards slowly stumbled onto their feet to do their jobs, only to be gunned down and even slashed to bits by a unique lightsaber.
"Hello, Jabba," the Sith purred. "Fancy meeting you here. I'm so glad you didn't decide to run. You're much wiser than the rest."
He beckoned with his finger, and a few Death Watch troops pushed forward a train of floating crates. Snapping his fingers, they opened it in unison, before the Sith kicked the box down.
The entire room gasped as the heads of the Crime Syndicate tumbled onto the floor.
Pyke, Hutt, Falleen, nearly every criminal overlord in the galaxy's head joined the gruesome collection, rolling towards Jabba's throne. Their rotting skulls were frozen into an eternal scream, the look of a fallen prey still evident in their molding eyes.
Jabba gulped, and he began to speak towards his droid, but the Sith raised his hand.
"Speak Basic, or I'll cut off your tongue and feed it to the rancor below."
Jabba nearly choked as he wilted, before he finally relented.
"What…do you desire, my lord?"
"Everything you and whatever's left of your family owns. Credits, spices, connections, hyperlanes, EVERYTHING!"
Everyone leapt as the last word seemed to erupt a wave of air around the Sith, creating a breeze of dust and sand.
"Oh, and in case you get cute-" The helmed Lord suddenly thrust his hand towards one of Jabba's guests, and a blaster flew towards its new master.
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
The Hutt seated next to Jabba let out an agonizing wail as he slumped forward. It didn't take a medical droid to know that another Hutt was lost in the galaxy.
"I want Jabba and his guests and minions to line up to the right over there. Slaves and women go to the other. You have twenty seconds before I order my men to slaughter indiscriminately. NOW!"
This sent a flurry of panic as nearly everyone in the palace scrambled to take their place. It mattered not whether they were guests, merchants, or actual employees of Jabba, they all desperately pushed and shoved to the mentioned spots so that they wouldn't join the others.
Even Jabba himself moved in surprising speed as he rushed to save his hide.
Within seconds, everyone stood at attention at the Sith's call.
"Good, good…" Darth Kyuubi nodded in approval. "Hey Jabba, come here for a second."
Jabba's frail, tiny arms trembled as he quickly made his way towards the leader of Death Watch.
"Eat up."
"HARGH!" Jabba let out a choked wail as his large jaw was seized in the grip of crush-gauntlets. The iron grip yanked the Hutt's mouth down swiftly, and Jabba let out a plea in a mixture of Basic and Huttese for the Sith to spare his life. His pleas swiftly ended as he saw what was on the other hand.
"AUH! AUH! ARKGH!"
Before Jabba could say any more, a detonator was shoved down Jabba's poor gullet. All his years of tirelessly shoving food after food down his throat has betrayed him as the bomb slid down his maw within seconds.
"You Hutts are slimeballs, but not all of you are cowards. That's why I needed a little insurance in case you try anything funny. With one push-" He took out a small remote that blinked green and red. "-you're going to have one hell of a heart burn, so from now on, if you so much as want to eat, you ask me first? Understood?"
"Y-Yes! ARGH!" Jabba let out a pained squeal as the Sith Lord punched him in the eye.
"Yes what?"
"Y-Yes, my Lord! Please! Mercy! Mercy!"
"That's better. See, looks like you Hutts can learn something." He gave him a mocking pat on the belly, before he walked away. He paused in his steps as if something had just occurred to him.
"HK? We'll only need half."
He didn't spare the men a glance as his droid and Death Watch gunned down half of the men on the other side of the room. He walked towards the slaves, who shivered and pleaded in random tongues. He simply waved his hands, and their chains and shock collars came off with ease.
"You're free now. Pack up your things, take as many credits as you can carry, then leave this place. Or stay behind and service my men and become a part of my empire. Your choice."
And with that, he walked to Jabba's study room. Two of Jabba's slaves, in particular, glanced at one another, then at the Sith Lord who had suddenly barged into their miserable lives, and made their choice.
"Hm, even in his studies he has a pile of wealth and food. Shocking."
His helmet was off - an unfortunate sacrifice needed to consume the delicacies on the desk. It was a freshly made dinner that he suspected was always made in preparation for Jabba whenever he retired down here for the night.
"All of his personal dirty deeds and deals, and he carries it under his pillow. How arrogant."
*KNOCK* *KNOCK*
"Come in."
A small smile made its way onto his lips as two of Jabba's former slaves walked through the door. A Twi'lek and a Zeltron. Both were virgins, surprisingly enough. It would appear that this cesspool hasn't robbed them of their delicate aromas that informed him of such.
"Well now, I wasn't aware of the lovely company. What can I do for you two?"
"Master Sith…" Velora smiled as she licked her lips, "we wanted to thank you for saving us from the Hutt."
"He's a disgusting animal," Oola agreed, twirling her lekku shyly between her fingers. "But Master Sith is a handsome, strong man. Please take us with you in your conquest."
"Swear your loyalty," he smirked as he rose up, his naked cock already poking out of his trousers, "and I'll give you everything you could ever ask for."
The two girls nearly fought for the right to get to his manhood first. He chuckled at this, before he told them to learn to work together. They became best friends after this, slowly and gently grooming his cock with their mouths.
He gave them a gentle pat on their heads. He hadn't bothered to ask if they were clean nor virgins. As stated previously, virgins held a certain aroma that were quite similar when it came to humanoid species. As for the disease part, modern medicine had taken care of nearly every type of disease out there, with Jabba himself taking care to make sure that his slaves didn't become vectors for some easily preventable disease out there lurking in the vast galaxy. Either way, he discovered that in thanks to his nature before and after Kurama's sacrifice, his body had become nearly godlike - a nigh infinite well of power and energy that consumed any hostile substances that dared to invade the temple.
But enough bragging. He had new servants to attend to.
"Mmm, Master~" Velora's honey-like voice was muffled due to her gingerly sucking on the side of his shaft.
"Master, please~" Oola begged as her beautiful, red lips blew his head.
"Coming!" he growled, his eyes glowing for a moment. His fingers seizing the back of their heads, he shoved their faces onto his cock as he released.
They groaned as his milky-white semen painted their colored faces. Desiring nothing more than his essence, they frantically tried to take more from the source, sucking, pumping, and squeezing to try to milk out more. When the tap stubbornly would've give them more, they noted just how much was left on each other's faces, and pressed lips together.
"Beautiful~" Darth Kyuubi sighed, noting just how wonderfully their breasts seemed to meld together.
"Master's semen…" Velora moaned as she licked some off of her rival's lekku.
"Delicious~" Oola agreed as she stole some from Velora's tongue.
"More…"
"More." The two of them turned back to their new master, with a hopeful look in their eyes. "More."
His eyes glowed with excitement as the two crawled towards him, their breasts swaying back and forward as they prostrated for his manhood.
He sat on his bed and lifted a hand. The Zeltron found herself to be gently floating in the air. Blinking, she held her breath as she saw herself being gravitated towards his erect penis. Her body lowering itself, she felt the battering ram penetrating her virgin wall.
"OOOH~" Velora let out a throaty yell/moan as her virginity was finally taken from her. It hurt, just like her mother and fellow slaves had once warned her, and yet, her tears were not one from agony, but rather, relief and happiness at the fact that it was given to a handsome man that would give her a happy life.
"Fuck me," Velora breathed, her hips grinding against his as she felt his cock slowly make its way into her womb. "Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME!"
A harsh growl escaping his throat, he grabbed her wrists as he thrust upward, her virginity finally completely taken as his meatsaber banged against her womb.
Velora lost count on how many times she came in that minute. Her womb stretched out, her brain rattled against her skull as she was manhandled like a beast, being forced to take a cock up her virgin hole, and she loved it. This reverse-cowgirl treatment seemed to last an hour before he came, flooding her inside with his ooze. Her eyes rolling to the back of her skull, she barely registered her new master slowly standing up. He let go of her wrists and she gently fell onto the soft floor, her naked rear shamelessly sticking up in the air as if it still wanted more, despite her having lost her consciousness a long time ago.
Oola nearly tripped over her as she all but leapt onto his awaiting lap. Without hesitating, she slammed her virgin cunt onto his still erect dick. Her eyes, which were filled with desire, snapped out of it for a moment as her body realized the consequence of her rash choice, a trickle of blue staining her new owner's penis.
"Ssh, shh…" he murmured into her ear as her small gasps threatened to turn into cries. "It'll feel better soon enough."
His hand gently waved over her snatch, and she felt her pain being leached out of her body, leaving behind pure pleasure. Cries turned into sighs, and she fearlessly began to speed up her hips.
Her soft, thin head-tails flailed and danced in the air as her body moved in unison with the Sith's. Her flesh threatened to melt over the heat of his presence, wanting to merge with him - to feel and become one with the walking force of power.
All of the women felt it the minute he entered the atmosphere. It was chaos, a flurry of emotions that they had no semblance of thought on how to respond to such a thing.
Confusion. Fear. Anger. Hope. Rage. Lust. Joy. Disgust. Bloodlust.
So many emotions they haven't felt before. So many emotions they haven't dared to feel since day one of their enslavement. And yet, this walking star of emotions had barged into their lives, and even before he came guns blazing through the door, they had already begun to rebel, determined to show this intruder/savior that they held no loyalties to the slimeball. Of course, their handlers did their best to keep them contained, but before they could begin threatening them with death, their savior arrived just in time.
Of course, some of them lost their bravado upon being face-to-face to the walking maelstrom of power, but Oola and Velora? They needed to be a part of his life, even if all that meant was to keep his bed warm.
That's why despite how much her deflowered cunt groaned in protest, she slammed her hips into his as she gave a small dance, making sure that her lekku and her breasts hypnotized the god underneath her.
Even before she gave her maidenhood to him, she made an oath. She swore to be with him at all times - to be a good girl and to make sure that she'll never be under the heel of disgusting filth that'll only serve to darken the galaxy.
But this man…this man was destined for greatness. His overwhelming presence - his manly body - shined brighter than the twin suns that loomed over them.
She closed her eyes as he attacked her neck and breasts with his mouth. Unable to hold it in any longer, she threw her head back as she came.
Darth Kyuubi sat on a large, stone throne that was placed neatly over what used to be Jabba's throne. He enjoyed basking in the fruits of his labor as Velora and Oola continued worshiping his cock shamelessly in front of everyone else. The Mandalorians that stood guard used all their training to not focus on the beautiful men and women scattered everywhere. Of course, it was much easier to resist looking at such temptations since once their shift was over, they were promised their share of the spoils of war.
As Rahab, Sabine, and HK-47 stood guard around him, he had only one thing on his mind:
Who's next?