Allegiances

by Over_Run_666 (ao3)

Chapter 1: Beyond Borders

Allegiances

An erotic, lesbian, bondage, Star Wars fan story

By Over_Run_666

Chapter 1 - Beyond Borders

After Republic supply lines are attacked by unknown assailant Jedi Vela Samilon, Bounty Hunter Kessan Ipox and freelance operative Bellen Eshtan investigate. They unique experience has led them to a minor mining system in Hutt controlled space in search of the architects of the attacks.

Vela studied the Lantillian shuttle’s sensor output intently. Her fingers steepled under her chin and her smooth tawny skin reflected the reflected some of the myriad of controls various light. Her normally bright blue eyes were turned a pleasant cerulean by the green sensor screen. Her black hair was tied in a no-nonsense pony tail with her Jedi braid clustered tied with it.

“Plenty of power over there but no life signs.”

The massive mercenary woman Kessan Ipox stooped down next to her re-examining the readouts. “Looks like most of it is underground. Could be out of sensor range.”

Her thick armour and numerous weapons clanked as she knelt down. Despite all seeming attempts to the contrary she was a handsome woman. Her round face made her look younger than her years. Years that had seen more combat than professionals twice her age. She often considered more facial tattoos than the circle of Pantoran text that made up a sun design on her forehead. Of course, she’s too humble to do it for that reason.

Her golden eyes were staggering, reflecting all of the cockpit’s light sources and many of the stars. Vela often found herself lost in those eyes when they talked. Her hair was pastel pink hair was kept short, she kept insisting on a short military cut but Vela always seemed to end up giving her what was more like a pixie cut.

“True or it could be entirely droid based. That sound like the trade federation?”

“Best not to jump to conclusions. This is Hut Space. Could be anything that they don’t want someone knowing about, might be saving money but just having life support deep underground out of sensor range.”

This mysterious low population facility on a rocky dwarf planet could have been any of a hundred in region alone. This was the kind of place, along with wretched scum ruled stations and ports that her family used to travel between when she was child. Before she was dumped at the Jedi temple. Vela kicked the white and pink that was sitting in the dock.

“Jen. What did you find on this place again? Anything new?”

R3-JN’s sensor glowed pink and it let out a stream of beeps and boops shaking and oscillating its see-through dome and rolling its main sensor as it did so.

Vela turned to look at the Kessan expectantly. The mercenary rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you grew up onboard a freighter and never learned astromech. It’s your droid!”

“I told you… we were REAL poor. We had to BE the astromech. We had some droids but we had to be able to repair and fly ourselves for the most part.”

The Pantoran former soldier looked on impassively. For a Jedi, Vela did was not the most perceptive. Kessan hoped bringing this up would prompt human to do something about it, no luck yet. The warrior sighed.

“Ok, so apparently this base doesn’t show on any maps or records. Just some old survey records that show there isn’t anything of worth here. To be expected in hut space though.”

“Ahhh my my hot blue friend. Jen here got that by hacking a Hutt net. This thing’s the best slicer droid around.” The jedi pointed at the astromech droid who lit up excitedly in response. “They might be a hive of scum but if something is going on in their realm you can bet, they’ll know about it. Make sure they get their piece if you will.”

“So THEY don’t know about this.”

“Or have been paid off to ignore it. Which might be best for them if them if it is separatists.”

The cockpit door slid open with a low mechanical screech. Standing in the brightly lit doorway glowing in ethereal light was Bellen Eshtan the Zeltron, spy, operative, escort, general ne’er do well. Her pale pink skin and tight, glossy, knee length, deeply cut, sweetheart blood red polymer dress reflected the bright lounge light and the multicoloured displays of the cockpit. Her dark blue hair shone in its complicated feathered bun. And those purple eyes sparkled dramatically no matter what light or get up she was in. She was shockingly beautiful and knew it. She could have been a model, the classy wife of royalty or powerful politicians. If she was willing to have her past put under the scrutiny that would entail.

She stepped into the cramped cabin as the door squeaked to a close behind her.

“So, ladies. is this what you’re looking for?” She said confidently.

“We can’t know for sure; this isn’t on any records though and it’s about where we thought it would be. But there’s no sign that it’s a separatist military base.” The jedi answered.

The spy sat gracefully in the co-pilot seat and stoked the see-through dome of the astromech droid. This elicited a low satisfied whistle and jiggle from the droid. “Well we are going to have to go in for a closer look then aren’t we. This isn’t enough for the Army of the Republic to enter Hutt space in force. You better be ready for that bonus for this type of job.”

The human nodded her head, she was clearly blushing little, as she often did when the beautiful and charismatic Zeltron was dressed up, or undressed. Her feminine whiles worked as well on the homosexual Jedi as they did on the port administrators she manipulated so easily. Vela’s usual attempts to push away such un-knightly thoughts were commonly assisted by the scoundrel’s greed. “Oh the republic have authorised your fee freelancer. If we get back with some proof. But we can’t get any closer without showing up on their scanners.”

“What’s the plan.” The big Pantoran asked.

R3-JN whistled and beeped in response to the blue skinned mercenary.

“She said that if there are only droids watching we could slice their sensors and dock without them being alerted.”

“Assuming they don’t have someone just watching.” Vela bopped the see-through top of the astromech droid. “No. We’ll land on the other side of the planetoid and take the speeder bikes in.”

“Well.” Bellen said with emphasis, as she lifted herself up out of the chair. As she did she pushed her sumptuous, barely covered breasts towards Vela. The Jedi suspected she was teasing her on purpose by this point.

“Should be plenty of time for me to get cleaned up and into more appropriate gear.” Said the Zeltron as she sashayed through the door, swinging hips and figure-hugging dress accentuating her perfect ass.

“Time for what?” Called the Jedi, not getting a response before the door slid shut.

****

Kessan’s T-85 speeder bike slid to halt sideways behind a rocky outcrop. She jumped off and flagged down Vela and Bellen’s, slower, Undicur Jumpspeeders. The Jedi slowed to a halt and stepped off wearing brown coarseweave combat robes, her Lightsaber hilt and precision laser dart pistol on her belt only occasionally visible through the folds.

She was followed closely by Bellen in her dark green leather jacket, over her tight tan scout suit. She parked up carefully, stepping off carefully her hand hovering over the DE-10 blaster pistol in quickdraw holster on her right leg.

The Pantoran was peeking out from behind the large rock. Wearing her kahki heavy battle armour with its full face helm. Her large vibro-axe and DC-15LE blaster rifle was across her back and WESTAR-35 blaster pistol in a holster among the pouches on the right side of her belt.

“The landing pad is just ahead.” She pointed past the rock.

The human and the Zeltron had to make do with a pair of standard breather masks.

The Jedi snuck up and leaned out past the mercenary. She ducked back. It was still a fair walk, but on a planetoid this small they shouldn’t have been able to seen them at this distance. There was a number of floating scanner droids floating through the hodgepodge of storage containers and movers around the main pad.

The group quickly picked their way through furrows, craters, moving from rock outcrop to boulder before eventually arriving at the at the metal wall of the landing pad that rose above them.

They pressed against the wall and Vela pressed the button on the communicator in her ear. “How are we going to get in from here?”

The Zeltron just relaxed against the metal wall touching her own com. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nearly time.”

“Time for what?”

Bellen just pointed out into deep space without looking.

Both of the others looked into the dark sky following her finger.

What looked like little more than a star let off a flash. A manoeuvre thruster.

****

Deep inside the facility a loader droid beeped as it backed away from a newly placed storage crate next to others in a neat row.

A half an imperial minute later the latch clunked up and the door sprung open. The Jedi and her compatriots fell out.

“I thought you said there was enough room in that container?” The spy said accusatorially.

“There was!” replied the jedi defensively. “Just.”

“Just? My ass was full of battle armour and I basically wearing a jedi as a bra for the past, what 15 floors?”

“Felt like more.” Said the jedi as turned away and pulled up her hood hiding her bright red face. Oh the trials of a jedi, they said it would be tough but she never expected such torture as trying to retain her composure through that temptation. “Anyway. That got us far enough in I’m sure. You two stay out of sight, maybe see if you can see what the best way out is. I’ll got find out what’s happening here.”

“On your own.” The big Pantoran said in surprise.

“Oh Kessan.”  The Jedi turned, moved by the loyalty, and put her hand on the battle armoured shoulder and whispered. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll have an easier time evading them than you… and the force with me.”

Vela couldn’t see Kessan’s reaction but the helmet nodded in response.

Bellen seemed to be buoyed by that, much though she acted cool. She tip-toed over to Vela before leaning in kissing her cheek. “May the force be with you.”

“Thank you Bell.” Vela smiled and touched her cheek. “And with you. Just keep your head down.”

With that vela slunk off towards the darkness at the edge of the room consulting her hand scanner.

****

The young jedi snapped another picture with her cam. Her pretty face took on a serious expression as her fears were confirmed. The security droids she had evaded till now were suspicious this far out but far from unique to the separatists. Suddenly THIS was both extremely damning and very dangerous. Far below her rough perch at top of this natural cavern was a small assembly line. Assembly droids were piecing together what looks like a type of sleek droid and affixing armour clone battle armour around it.

It all made sense now, they were here were they could get clone armour of the black market. Where they were close enough to Republic planets to send these droids out directly where they could perform partisan actions behind the lines under the guise of Republican troops. That had to be the cause of the terrorist attacks on the supply depots but it was still mind boggling that droids could pass for people under any scrutiny. She guessed that heavily drilled clones were the best chance of it but still, it must be real step up in programming.

Having obtained what she needed, and realising the extent of the opposition here, Vela began to retreat. Scanning around the room and becoming confident nothing was looking this way she leaped across the wall of the cavern and dropped down to the small side corridor silently.

She whizzed through the dim passage at blistering pace. Down here with only droids intense lighting was barely required. She stopped at corners to scan and open her senses to the force. Arriving at the turbolift shaft she had come down in without incident. As the carriage approached, she slunk back into a nook as she would need it to go past or go back up to scale the shaft.

As the control panel made it clear that it was stopping on this level a feeling of dread pervaded her mind. She retreated down the corridor and ducked into an alcove as the lift stopped and the doors opened.

Stepping out of the cold blue light in the lift was blue tinged pale skinned humanoid, a lithe young woman, with attire to match the dread she felt.

Her feet were in a wide stance which made the tall heels of her thigh high, black leather boots obvious. Those powerful ghostwhite thighs extended out of waist high twin splits in a sleeveless, backless, shiny black rubber dress that extended from its hood to a point between her boots just above the ground. The opening of the hood extended between to the bottom of her sternum revealing deep, pale cleavage while the width ensured half the side of her boobs were also visible. The back of skirt was also cut back revealing a much of the curve of her pert buttocks while remaining wide at the base. The only thing that seemed to be holding this skin tight glossy polymer in place was a wide unadorned gunmetal belt.

Her eyes where covered by a black veil, though some red lights could be seen on the left side of her head through it. From the right-side waist length bright white straight hair hung out of her hood. Her mouth was covered by a small pentagonal gunmetal respirator.

Both hands were covered by elbow length black glossy latex gloves. On her left wrist and the back of her hand, a wide grey metal bracelet with numbers metal bulges and tubes, was clamped over her glove.

Her left hand reached behind her retrieved a short gunmetal rod.

It ignited a red saber blade that now held out towards the ground in a threateningly casual stance.

“Jedi! No use hiding from me.” Her voice was heavy with sibilance and modulated by her mask to a louder and lower, mechanical tone.

Vela Samilon stepped from alcove and adopted a combat stance, one foot in front of the other. Her face was bathed in blue light revealing a look of determination as her lightsaber ignited. It was in front of her in a twohanded grip.

A Sith, or wannabe Sith. Either way this was dangerous and notable that one existed here at all. But she would need to survive to report it.

She rushed her opponent. Time was definitely on the Sith’s time, as bad as droid soldiers were, they could quickly become numerous enough to swing this fight.

The Jedi lunged towards centre of mass. The red saber was already moving knocking the blue plasma blade to the right with loud buzz and shower of sparks. To be expected. She turned the momentum of the attack the spin the saber all the way around to attack the left.

The Sith Parried that blow being forced back half a step as their weapons crackled. The Jedi pressed the attack swiping at the legs, first from the left then the right. The black clad force user was being forced to give more ground. Vela span around slashing at the Siths neck. The red plasma blade was brought up to block just intime, the crackling energy mere centimetres from her face.

The pale woman snarled, both hands were on the sabers hilt now. The earlier arrogance replaced now with rage. She pushed the blue saber away and began her assault. She did not attempt to change angles to find openings, instead attacking with speed and power trying to overwhelm her opponent. The sparking illuminating them both and the fizzing filling the corridor.

The Sith attacked time and again screaming as she did so. The Jedi was driven back by the shear ferocity of the attack. It wasn’t without skill though, after numerous swipes she changed to attack from another side to attack repeatedly.

It was just after one of these changes that Vela found an opening. She repelled the Sith’s saber hard then planted a solid kick into the girl’s black rubber covered belly while the blades hissed together. The Sith was thrown backward, splitting them both up.

There was barely anytime to relax, heavily metal footsteps running on the metal floorplates told the Jedi that time was nearly up.

Dassor Hex planted her feet and slid to halt, she righted herself snarling.

Vela dashed backwards across the corridor in the direction of the footsteps.

The timing was perfect.

The blue plasma blade flashed across the entry with a vroom. A B2 series super battle droid that appeared at the doorway fell into two with glowing red-hot cuts separating the pieces. Vela reached out a hand to the second droid behind and it lifted into the air. Begging to fly towards the jedi borne on the power of the force.

Vela didn’t recognise the variant of droid, there was something built into the fists and some large contraptions down it’s back. She didn’t know what weapon it was, she just needed to not get caught by it.

The dark force user had already started running towards her, as Jedi hoped she would.

Vela span as the super battle droid flew past her and she dragged it round an arc around her and flung it at the Sith.

The black rubber wearing swordswoman was well aware of the weight of those B2 units. With her right hand still holding the saber in her middle two fingers, she extended her thumb, index and little finger she caught the massive robot with the force and cast it to her right with derision.

Just behind the droid the Jedi was leaping through the air, lightsaber coming down in an overhead strike.

Vela knew it was risky move and could not be more pleased to see that the Sith had indeed used her sword arm to fling the droid aside. It seemed to the Jedi that the Sith was so desperate she had instinctually bought her left hand up to defend herself, which would soon be severed.

Time seemed to slow for both of them.

There was flash of red from the dark-force users’ wrist and two red light saber blades ignited. They crossed, going through each other forming an X in front of her fist. The was a flash of yellow light and an electronic screeching of fields interacting as Vela’s blue blade struck one of these short blades and slid towards the base of the cross.

Two more red blades ignited further down the Sith’s wrist contraption, and now further out.

As the blue blade hit the crux of the red cross blades the third and fourth red blades met at point just behind the blue blade trapping it in a square of Lightsaber blade size with a loud crackling of trapped energy.

Vela’s eyes went wide as she landed on the floor and realised her predicament.

The Sith was already swiping at her legs with her own main red blade.

Her reflexes were still sharp even though she was at huge disadvantage, the only way was quite a desperate one.

She shut off her Lightsaber.

She jumped backwards into a summersault before it had even retracted, her legs went to splits in the air to avoid the red saber’s cut. The saber hilt finally came free and she immediately re-ignited it.

The Sith did not finish the swing, instead extending her index and little fingers like and electro shock prod. Which produced a lavender stream of crackling electricity that leapt at the Jedi.

The force lightning burned an agonising uneven path up the jedi’s legs and abdomen making her shriek in pain and hit the floor with a thud. It felt like her legs, her pussy especially was being jabbed with dozens of red-hot needles. The Jedi was still screaming as she just managed to keep her wits together enough to force the blue blade into the path of the excruciating force energy.

She had but a moment of recovery time sitting there with her beautiful face illuminated in that harsh twisting light. She was panting and sweating profusely, her legs were numb and nearly useless but the pain still wracked her gut.

Then she was buffeted by a circular energy pulse of stun blaster. Her eyes rolled and the saber fell from her hand with a clatter. It felt like she was hit by a speeder. All of her senses started to swim, her vision became dark, she collapsed in a heap, only the pain remained constant.

Mercifully the Sith stopped the force lightening just afterwards as the Jedi blacked out for a second.

When she came to, still only barely conscious and still wracked with pain, the Sith was just upon her and force pulled the Jedi’s Lightsaber into her hand. Also looming over her off to the side was one of those custom B2 droids. One of the changes must have been replacing the blasters with ones that can fire stun blasts, though the other changes weren’t immediately apparent they soon would be.

The Jedi, working on pure instinct, tried to rise. Only to have a thick cable fired from the droids left arm, wrap tightly around her upper body and arms. Pinning them to her side uncomfortably. Then it began to retract to cord dragging her across the metal floor.

She was right under the droid now. It unlooped the cord from around her as it retracted it. The Sith was just behind her.

“You won’t be needing these.” Scoffed the woman as she grabbed handfuls of the jedi’s clothes cutting them off with her saber. The droid joined in, pulling her robes and underclothes off in strips till the Jedi lay there naked. Her beautiful bronze skin glistened with pain drawn sweat beads. Her limp body was left in a heap that accentuated the luscious curves of her strong limbs, her muscular torso, full breasts and plump buttocks.

The droid began replacing clothes and cable with adhesive arachsilk straps it extruded from ports on the inside of its wrists with fearsome mechanical speed. Already two such straps bound the Jedi’s shoulders and elbows painfully tightly to her side before she had chance to react in her addled state.

She made a half-hearted attempt to stand, to direct the force in some way. Valiant, given the shock her system had taken already. Were she any less physically fit she would be unconscious from either attack.

But the droid punched her in the throat. It was barely a strike at all compared to the power she had seen these droids possess. Having been in battles where they had torn Clone troopers’ limbs off. But still it winded her, made her gag and worse, discharged a massive electric shock from the stun weapon built into its fists. She squealed as seared through her upper body. Her eyes flashed with random colours. Her ears tried desperately to recognise order in the random dissonance. As the charge ran down her spine it made her body spasm, painfully stretching muscles and twisting joints. Her mind directly turned electrical signals directly into new kinds of torturous pain.

She could barely even scream as she drooped, only being held up by the droid as it finished wrapping her in tight, sticky straps that stuck her arms tightly to her side, wrapped her legs together, cut into her flesh. Soon a dozen of these bands wrapped her naked body preventing any movement other than twisting. She was beginning to recover slightly and struggled against the tough tape but expanded a good portion of her remaining energy pitifully flopping like beached fish.

From some kind of dispenser on the side of its body the droid extracted one last piece of this tough tape. It carefully but inexorably forced it over the Jedi’s panting mouth. It extended under her chin and over her nose with a cut out for the apex and nostrils. They adhered to her skin and especially itself when it was overlapped behind her head. Just as it was affixed, she felt it expand into her mouth, filling the cavity. For a second, she panicked that it would choke her but it stopped when her mouth was full of the incompressible polymer.

Now fully restrained, she was borne into the air by the powerful robot. It lifted her onto it’s back, against that piece that ran down it’s back. A padded bench long enough for a humanoid to lie against. Suddenly thick, wide, plasteel tipped, black plastifibre bands shot out from the left and right of the plank she was up against. 5 in total. They curved around in front of her locking on the opposite side. It happened in a split second.

In another second they tightened with a whir.

The one across her neck, the one across her chest under her boobs, knocked the wind out of her. It was so sudden, so tight, so solid that feared she’d choke.

But it was set to mearly very tight around her neck, causing her to feel light headed. Merely tight enough around her chest that she could take only tiny breaths, merely crushing her arms into her body, merely losing some circulation to her extremities.

The Sith cocked her head while admiring the droid’s handiwork, and by extension her handiwork.

“Well that does look pretty secure, even for a Jedi.” She spat out the description with as much antipathy as possible.

“Probably didn’t need both the tape and straps if I’m being honest but with one of these you can’t be too careful and I think it’s quite the improvement” She ran a rubber gloved hand up Vela’s entombed body, over the sticky straps, the thick plastic bands, the glistening amber skin squeezing between the bindings. She stoked the girls face. Then squeezed the girl’s plump tits with both hands.

She put her hand to the trapped woman's exposed sex, then licked her finger. “Well she seems to be enjoying herself. That’s a good start, there’ll be plenty more like this.”

The tightness, the constriction, the abuse, must have caused that reaction involuntarily, the Jedi decided. She just stared and barely squeaked out a protestation. That could have been an attempt to escape but if it was, she didn’t move a micrometer.

A BD series pleasure droid sashayed gracefully into view the scene from a corridor. She moved so elegantly as to make other BD series Luxury droids look like C3 series protocol droids. Unlike her BD3000 contemporaries her skin was a shiny, flexible rubber like polymer. Her arms, legs and hair were deep red while her upper thighs, torso and face where white. Also differentiating her from other units she wore clothes, a very short, black Karlini silk backless dress. Her sensor eyes were pink and as she began to talk the tongue in her full mouth cavity was prominent internally lit by that pink light as it was when she spoke. “Oh is this the Jedi mistress? She is pretty, isn’t she?”

“Just in time BD, give me one of those things.” The Sith hissed as she held out her hand to the lasciviously built droid.

The android pulled a small metal case from her side, flipped it open and took out a white ball headed rod about saber hilt length. She handed it to pale blue woman.

The swords-woman turned to the thoroughly entrapped woman. She pressed a button on the wand and it started vibrating with a deep hum. She Jammed it between her thighs, the humming became higher pitched as it pressed against the Jedi’s pussy.

The let out a heavily muffled squeal. Her toes and head wiggled, basically all she could move to try and do something about this invasive stimulation.

The Sith woman stepped around to the fron of the B2 capture droid and rasped. “Take her to theatre and make her ready for the surgery. And send units to the exits and start searching for any more friends to play with”

The B2 headed down the corridor, the entrapped Jedi bouncing uncomfortably on its back, large breasts the only unsecured parts jiggling violently. Gagged moans and squeals and pants escaped her as she was made to cum, again and again till she taken to force knows what face.

The dark force user watched till she was out of site then turned to the pleasure droid. “She is still completely fucking hot Page. You won’t believe how long I’ve waited for this. It’s going to be so great to have someone to play with round here.”

The droid had enough articulation in her face to look crestfallen, though that was to enhance sexual performance. “Mistress you wound me.”

The Sith pulled back her hood and veil. Reveal her gleaming white Umbran eyes and the strip of black tattoo that ran across both eyes. It merged with the heavy black eye make-up and connecting them to her hair line on the right side and gloss black cybernetic panel on the left side of her head above her ear. She pulled off the metal respirator to show the rest of her pretty, young sharp boned face. The centre third of her lips were painted black and this continued to face paint as wide that went under her chin.

She advanced on the pleasure droid gabbing her waist, leaning in so that the droid was forced to bend far backwards. “I’ll always have some use for my little slut droid. You’re the only thing that’s kept me sane around here.”

She leaned in further and kissed the pleasure droid deeply who closed her eyes and reciprocated while arms still hung there limply, submissively.

The Sith stopped, stood up and released the droid who bowed deeply. “I see you are in good mood. I exist to ensure you are pleased Mistress. Let’s have some more fun with this captive, shall we?”

Chapter 2: Old Friends

Chapter 3: Rescuer

Allegiances

An erotic Star Wars fan story

By Over_Run_666

Chapter 3 – Rescuer

Vela Samilon looked, with brilliant blue eyes, at her hand as she rotated it slowly. Being able to move her body was already a novelty. She lay on that uncomfortable medical gurney, completely naked save for a thick gold collar on her neck and her new wielded closed jewellery. Her black hair was in a pony tail that lay across her left shoulder. She had been left that way by the vicious Sith Dassor Hex, left that way because the Sith very much enjoyed that athletic woman’s taught buff skin.  

The astromech droid R3-JN was chirping away from behind the inclined metal bed she was on. Not that she could understanding what it was trying to say.

The Jedi put her slender bronze skinned hand to the thick gold collar around her neck. A droid really, and it was impossible for Vela to forget that. Still, even with her new found self-determination she wasn’t able to damage to attempt to remove the droid. She could only stroke the it’s golden surface gently. Reaching around the back she went to unplug the cable but found herself unable to touch it at all.

“JN. I can’t unplug it, is that you? Can you stop it?”

The pink astromech had been beeping and whirring the whole time, it stopped while Vela spoke and answered a deep pair of notes.

A definite negative, she’d picked up that much at least.

“Is that no it wasn’t you, or no you can’t stop?”

The R3 units released a longer string of notes that Vela didn’t understand. She tutted and stood up finding she was able to approach the droid so long as she didn’t go so far as pull out the cable. R3-JN was plugged into a port on the wall.

The Jedi was showing off all of that wonderful bronze skin as much as she attempted to hide her breasts and vagina, and especially the new gold rings she had put through them.

“What are you doing? Haven’t you finished? Are you going to deactivate this?”

The cylindrical droid bounced from leg to leg and let out a string of loud beeps in frustration.

“Don’t you beep at me in that tone of speaker!” Vela chastised.

The jedi answered her questions in her own voice “I’m still re-programming the droid, ZX-48, by the way. That Sith has a droid controller implant so I need to shut her out or you will be her slave again within seconds of you coming into range.” It was monotone but it was her voice. Vela was shocked, her full lipped mouth dropped open.

She was shocked before she realised that evil Sith had already kind of made her do something similar. In that case she was just making her add ‘Beloved Mistress’ when addressing the Sith.

Still, she had no idea it extended to this level of control.

“So, you’re in control? Can’t you just turn it off?”

“Your nerve signals are being directed through that droid. I’m afraid if it shuts down so does your motor functions.”

The naked jedi attempted to recover from series of shocks. “Well, I’m not sure I like the idea of you being in control. Can’t you just stop anyone controlling it?”

“Either I control the droid or it controls itself. Would you like to be controlled by a droid created to destroy the jedi by your evil ex-girlfriend?”

“I guess not.” The jedi looked towards the floor. “You heard that then?”

“I sliced a bunch of systems on the way down. I found some monitors… and some files.”

Vela looked nervous still trying to cover modesty.

Clearly the robot had noticed that the Jedi was rather self-conscious, she had been a through a lot. “I’m trying to go as fast I can. We’ll find you some clothes soon. At least it’s is just us females here.”

“You’re a GIRL?!”

R3-JN’s clear dome, with its pink sections, turned slowly towards the woman. Her pink sensor regarded the human for second, did a full rotation of the sensor in its ball joint before the dome rotated back to the panel.

“Well, I own you and you control this.” She indicated her neck with her fingers. “That’s not too…”

She cut herself off. “R3-JN reset owner to none.”

The jedi found herself unable to speak but stared daggers at the droid, she wouldn’t dare!

R3 let out a series of boops and drones.

“R3-JN reset owner to none.” Vela was forced to repeat.

R3’s sensor changed colour to green briefly and she let out a high pitching beep, her dome span all the way around.

“You bitch, change that back this second.”

The droid beeped in response.

The human hated that she was effectively being programmed and didn’t even know what she was being told. Vela rose her hand to smack the droid but by the time she connected she was only gently caressing the droids dome. She realised the precarious position she was in, she seemed to have changed position with her own astromech droid, entirely under it’s, her, power. Unarmed and naked in an enemy base. Like it or not she was entirely reliant on this little droid now.

So, of course, she attempted to sweeten her former robot.

She continued stroking the clear dome with her fingertips.

She attempted to come across as sweet. “How much longer are you going to be JN….Mistress.”

Oh, THAT’S what she had told the ZX-48 to do. Vela snarled before putting on an obviously fake smile.

“Another 1 minute 40 seconds approximately.”

“Oh ok. I don’t suppose you know where there are clothes or weapons... Mistress”

“Not around in here. Why don’t you see what’s in the wall stores?”

Vela began to open drawers and cupboards within range of her cable. Most were empty but she reached into the second drawer a pulled-out part of a mass of golden chain.

“That maybe useful.” She said impassively.

****

‘Dear the Force.’ Vela mentally wrote her journal entry. ‘What the fuck?’

Vela had noted before how dingy the lighting in these corridors were but now, as she was being pulled along by a gold chain linked sticking out of a manipulator port on the pink astromech droid in front of her. The length of chain split into three to connect to the gold rings pierced through her nipples and vagina. They swayed uncomfortably as walked and pulled painfully if she let the droid get too far ahead.

She rattled the gold cuff’s locking her wrists together behind her back, they were basically only sex toys but more than enough to hold her hands.

Finally, that cable led from the back of her droid collar to the droid, though being longer than her chain it didn’t stand a chance of coming out.

“Is this the only way… Mistress.” Vela had heard the partial explanation but it still seemed like the droid was being monstrously unfair.

“I’ve already sliced in and given myself access around here. Actually, I outrank most droids. But there was no way for me to change your classification as a prisoner and if you weren’t constrained then it would have raised attention. Even this type of containment should cover it.

“Do you need the cable... Mistress?”

“No but it is much easier to control ZX-48 with a direct link than talking to it.”

“Control me, you mean... Mistress?”

As they turned the corner the spotted a pair of B1 battle droids at the other end of the corridor. They adjusted their grip on their battle rifles when they saw the pair. The pink droid let out a series of beeps of boops.

Both of the battle droids saluted. One of the responded. “Yes maam, it won’t happen again”.

As they turned to leave, they responded as one. “Roger, Roger.”

Vela glanced over her shoulder as droids went out of sight. That was pretty impressive, too her annoyance she found she was getting pretty excited by this. By the danger, the embarrassment, the bondage even the droid’s mechanical control over her. Damn her lusty loins.

****

R3-JN took them towards the elevator and their escape, based on her downloaded maps. They just had to cross the walkway around the massive main shaft that went the entire depth of the facility.

The sound of a blaster bolt below made Vela look over the edge. Floors below on the other side of the shaft a number of droids were converging on three figures.

“Mistress!” Vela whispered as her the shock showed on her face.

Below Bellan Eshtan, the Zeltron agent, returned fire on a group of advancing B1 battle droids with her DE-10 blaster pistol. Her shot tore into the top of the chest box of one, springing its head clean off. Behind her the big Pantoran bounty hunter, Kessan Ipox, was fighting Dassor Hex in melee combat, Vibro axe to lightsabre.

Kessan deflected a low sabre strike with her axe blade then swung the weapon the other way to come down on the Umbran Sith’s head.

It was a quick attack and black clad woman seemed to be surprised.

However, what seemed like a desperate moved turned into an accurate block as pair red of saber blades met in a triangle in front of her left hand repelling the axe blade.

A faction of a second later, with a tiny movement of her hand, another pair of red saber blades appeared cutting through the heavy khaki battle armour and slicing off the Pantorans right hand sending her axe flying.

Vela’s mouth gapped in horror… and it wasn’t over.

In the same movement Dassor sliced low with her saber again, cutting off both of Kessan’s legs at the thighs. Her heavy armour did nothing against that that attack except add to the sound of the impact as the bounty hunters body slammed into the metal floor.

The Jedi looked as if she had screamed and ducked down out of sight even though there was no noise. R3, was watching over the side with her periscope and seemed to have anticipated Vela’s horror and cut off her voice just in time.

Dassor advanced on outnumbered Zeltron who turned around and fired. The Sith’s sabre deflected the bolt and with a gesture from her other hand had the force yank the pistol from Bellen’s hand. The beautiful pink skinned scoundrel looked surprised and horrified as stun bolt from the one of the B1’s blaster hit her. She collapsed, still wriggling though, tougher than she looks. The B1’s advanced closer but rather than fire again one adjusted its stance and from its chest fired mass of tan straps. When they hit the fallen woman, they enveloped her in a net that was attached to the droid’s torso by a cable. Quickly it contracted. Where it had caught itself it held fast, completely constricted the pink girls’ legs and one of her arms. The other B1 fired another net covering the top of her body in the quickly tightening straps. She gasped as they completely bound her, squeezed her, choked her.

Hex stood over the fallen bounty hunter and gestured, issuing orders. The two B1’s attached to Bellen dragged her stunned, wrapped body down the dim corridor.

Vela dropped to her knees, trying her hardest to deflect Dassors force senses but physically she was bawling. Tears streamed down her face and mouth was open screaming silently.

R3-JN retracted its periscope rotated on the spot and drove slowly into the Jedi. As an astromech droid there was little she could do to comfort someone and wasn’t programmed for advanced human interaction but she knew something, however weak, was required.

The jedi lay her chest and face across the see-through dome. With her wrists locked behind her back this was as much of a hug as she could give too. R3’s sensor was buried between those big bronze breasts, pressure against the transparent made them appear even bigger viewed from the other side. Vela appreciated the thought even as she felt the gold chain between their bodies.

Only when Vela had gathered a little composure, was she able to stand to continue onwards. The droid rolled onwards. The human took only a couple of steps then stopped, letting the chain go taught. She winced at the pain in most tender parts and was pulled one step onwards before R3 was able to stop.

Her dome rotated till her sensor was looking the girl and Vela mouthed some words. The astromech realised what she wanted.

The Jedi found she had her voice back. “We need to find out where they are taking Bellen Mistress.”

Even this droid, programmed for astronavigation and repair was, on some level, impressed by the human’s spirit against insurmountable odds.

“I’ve found something that might help.”

Chapter 4: Reunited

Allegiances

An erotic Star Wars fan story By Over_Run_666

Chapter 4 - Reunited

Vela Samilon scanned through the assembled weapons in this small armoury. Mostly they were Clone Trooper weapons, or B1 blasters, some other random weapons but no lightsaber. She figured that would be asking a bit much.

JN beeped and pointed her probe at some suits of heavy white plastoid-alloy armour.

****

The Jedi marched down the dim corridor in her white clone trooper armour and grasping the DC-15S blaster carbine made her feel better even though firing the weapon would almost certainly give them away.

Next to her rolled the pink panelled astromech droid. They were still connected by the cable running under the Jedi’s helmet.

Vela was happy to not be linked by that gold chain to the droid any longer but had to adjust her armour occasionally as the chain connecting her nipples and clit often got caught up. She knew she didn’t need to still have that chain connected. The droid clearly liked her to have that little reminder.

They approached a security desk manned by two B1 OOM Security droids. Much smarter than the average B1’s that they had been exchanging pleasantries with until now.

R3-JN released a string of beeps and boops.

“Roger, Roger.” The first Droid said, checking the computer monitor. It changed it it’s temperament and both droids picked up their E5 blasters. “That’s not on the records, stand…”

They were cut off by pushing gesture from the clone trooper that sent both flying backwards from the desk crashing into the wall behind, casings smashing, limbs disconnecting.

When Vela was focused, she could push hard.

JN ‘Jen’ had made it very clear that the security down here was far stricter and they might not be able to spoof their way in. Even not setting off the energy spike sensors they didn’t know how long they would have from now.

The astromech rolled around the desk as quickly as its wheels would take it and plugged in. It whirred there for a while. Vela was forced to lean over the desk to remain connected to her droid dominatrix.

“Bellen is in cell 2.”

“Cell 2, that’s good. I’m going in Mistress.”

“Wait! There is a droid in there with her. I’m slicing the message so it doesn’t try something. At least till I get it out here and slice it directly.”

Vela looked very worried. She imagined some horrible interrogation droid. Whatever it was could raise the alarm if she went in. So, she could only wait. “What type is it? Do you know Mistress?”

“I’ve not seen reading like this before. It’s very close to Bellen. Who do you think is in cell 1.”

“There’s someone in cell 1 Mistress?”

****

The prisoner reacted in her personal prison. Though the outside world seemed so far away, should could make out only the loudest sounds, she somehow felt like she could hear someone. She almost felt though her bones rather than hear it due to the sound dampening around her ears. She could no longer remember why this seemed familiar why it was important.

All she could think to do was move towards the sound. Moving blind, she shuffled towards the sound. Only having been shuffling around these corridors for long allowed her to move around without being able to see.

****

Vela heard a sound a turned around, blaster outstretched.

A luxury droid was walking towards them. She had an orange torso and sensors, a little more heavily set than the models that the Jedi had seen following politicians around the capital. Vela wondered why such a civilian model was here when she clocked the orange rubber skirt and strapless bra. Ah one of THOSE models, there’s only one reason droid needs clothes. Someone’s particular fetish no doubt.

“I am BD-3081, you can call me Bett. Is there any way I may assist you?”

Vela needed to cut her off before she saw the destroyed security bots. She tried her luck using her disguise, trying to sound like a clone trooper, after all, the droids would, wouldn’t they? “Security Issue! Move back… mate.”

She still didn’t know what she was doing around here.

The luxury droid turned around slowly. Somehow even with that plate robot face Vela could see she was despondent. The jedi shook her head she was empathising with droids now? Came with the situation she guessed, but there was something weird with that betty bot.

R3 beeped then spoke through the human. “That should do it for the time being. Let us go get Bellen.”

The droid spun the port once more and there was woosh from the cell door.

They both moved over to the door quickly, eager to see their friend.

What met them was completely unexpected.

Inside, Bellen was indeed in there, but there wasn’t a droid with her though. She was IN a droid, lying on the simple black padded bed. The brushed steel finished droids’ plates encased her torso from her crotch to her ears. It’s ‘arms’ and ‘legs’ seemed to be only thin bars running down the shapely human limbs. They completely enclosed the Velton’s elbows, knees, hands and feet though.

Vela took off her helmet and knelt by the bed, her face showing a look of concern and confusion.

Bellen’s eyes looked on imploringly. Her deep blue hair sprouted out of the top in a mess but beneath that and her eyes; her mouth, nose and ears were covered by a metal mask that extended around her head. The front even had a mockery of her luscious lips in translucent plastoid and a pair of nostrils that allowed her breath.

Around her neck was a single thick band of metal, like a posture collar.

The torso was sleeveless. Smooth domes entombing those beautiful breasts, that might have been the droid’s worst crimes.

Vela noticed that the horizontal bands of metal alloy around her waist must be as tight as corset. Her waist wasn’t that narrow before, and the Jedi would know.

The Zeltron’s hands were encased in articulated metal plates that that held them in tight fists, the wrists of which were tightly locked to her side at bands around the top of her thighs.

Likewise, the woman’s ankles seemed to be locked together and the feet covered in metal boots that forced the woman onto her tiptoes, the heel just a narrow plate buttress from under the elevated heel to the toe. Clearly this was designed to make movement difficult even when not locked firmly together.

Bellen shook with anticipation but could move no further. Clearly the remote slicing had put the droid in some kind of lockdown state.

For the first time in a while R3 directly controlled the Jedi’s movements making her take the cable from the port at the back of her neck. Rolling the metal bound girl onto her side and slipping it into the port on the small of the droid’s the back.

Freed of her obligations she looked into Bellen’s alluring purple eyes.

“Bell, we’ll get you out. Jen’s a legend, she’ll be able to get you free. She did to me…” The Jedi showed off her neck, realising that she wasn’t completely free and the gold collar more proved that than demonstrating the opposite.

The human realised she was weeping, so happy was she to see Bellen. Worse still, looking at that beautiful metal encased Zeltron her heart was thumping harder and harder, it took all of her strength not to grab the woman.

Bellen herself was starting to well up too.

The astromech droid beeped and whirred.

The pink skinned girl pulled her hands up as she realised, they had been released from her thighs. Still, they were sealed in durasteel fist mitts with only small lines across the surface.

Immediately she reached out to her Jedi friend and they embraced, plastoid alloy thunking against the durasteel between them.

Vela blushed and wished there was nothing between them. She pressed her face against the Zeltons, that being only place she could touch her skin, and drank deeply of her playful scent.

“Huh.” Bellen responded automatically, those plastoid lips pulsing red as the sound came out.

“What’s happening?” She continued surprising herself. She pulled slightly back from Vela and pulled a metal covered fist to her throat.

“Vela?” She spoke. At least the droid tightly holding her mouth shut (and jammed with a gag) was relaying what she was trying to say.

“Bell! It’s you! It sounds a lot like you at least.”

“Well, It’s a start. I’m so glad to see you, I thought we’d lost you for good.”

“ME! I saw you fighting that awful woman when we escaped… I’m so sorry Bell.” The Jedis eyes were streaming tears by now and she shut them tight.

Not only had they both experienced a great loss but she felt responsible for it. This woman still seemed to be suffering under this strange binding droid.

She felt cold metal wiping the tears from her face while that other arm squeezed her waist tighter.

“Vela! Thank you. You came to get me.” She’d swung her tightly bound legs off the bed so that she was sitting up. So that she could get closer to the Jedi. “We’ll get out of this. I believe in you I always have.”

Her gorgeous purple eyes were staring directly into Vela’s own bright blue eyes. Those Amethysts drew in the humans gaze hypnotically making her forget everything else.

Vela grabbed the woman hard around the metal covered waist and kissed those plastic lips deeply.

Going bright red, she broke away, realising her error. “By the force Bell I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t know what I was doing….”

Something clicking in her brain finally. “Did you… did you scent me?”

“Oh my… I’m sorry Vela. When those robots were squeezing me into this thing I must have released, we can’t always control it when…”

She leaned in conspiratorially, whispering. “There’s a thing up inside me.”

Her eyes shot downwards towards her crotch. “It’s practically impossibly for my people to hold it in under those conditions.”

Vela’s gloved hand covered her face as she gasped. “I didn’t know… I’m sorry… I don’t think I’ve felt it before.”

She had only ever got a little bit, a remnant of the pheromones she had used on someone else before. It was both more powerfully and far more exciting that she had imagined. Her crotch was ringing wet already.

“It’s ok.” the droid covered mouth tried to comfort her. “When we can get to myself again, you’ll be the first to try it out again. I promise.”

Vela let out a chuckle of relief and pushed the Zeltrons shoulder… In case she was joking.

Part of her hoped she wasn’t joking.

Bellen’s eyes, though red from tears, seemed to be smiling though her mouth was hidden behind that droid’s fake mouth. She looked down at her hand that she had put down to steady herself. She pulled it up in front of her realising it had been freed from its tight metal cover.

R3-JN beeped in confirmation.

Her hands were now still in mitts though her fingers were at least flexible now. Her thumb was still sealed at the top of her hand in the close metal plate that covered her palm rendering it unusable. Her fingers were tightly attached to each other in a segmented metal mitt like she had seen in museums of ancient pre industrial knight armours. Between the metal plates, providing the limited articulation was the shiny black, rubber like polymer.

It was disappointing that this was how much movement she had when it wasn’t balled tightly into a fist but was great improvement.

She grabbed the humans white armoured waist again and stroked her face with her newly mobile fingers. In some ways she was overcompensating for Vela’s sake.

She tried to stand, bouncing off the bed. Her legs were still tightly bound together and her feet were stuck in those tip-toe shoes so there was no real chance of her standing upright.

Vela jumped up at the same time and stepped under the woman, catching her against her chest with a loud clunk.

“Woops. Not quite free enough for that yet.” The lights on her droid lips relayed.

Vela was getting a little hot from her being so close again. “Yeah, give JN a chance.”

The jedi tried to stand the woman upright on her precarious heels. With a little windmilling the Zelton was upright.

The manged to get her stood on those metal ballet boots. With this maximum heelage she was actually taller than the Jedi for once.

To Vela’s eyes the tight bondage was accentuating her figure dramatically. Those legs were smooth and slender, her butt and chest made shapelier by the metal corset.

She was very glad when the astromech interrupted with a whine and series of beeps and boops.

Bellen looked down, but not too far down due to her corset and connected wide collar. She separated her feet slightly. Rocking from side to side. Then walking backwards and forwards as far as the cable attached to her would allow.

R3 continued chirping and the pink girl looked at her dejectedly. “Oh, oh right.”

“What? What’s up?” Said Vela, concern very evident in her voice.

“She says she won’t be able to get me out of this. Not here. It’s got some kind of physical lock and it’s probably booby trapped. Huh… booby.” She grabbed her metal covered breasts.

“I’m sure when we are on the ship we can try again. Can you walk like that?”

The Zeltron plucked the cable from her back and ran around the small room.

It wasn’t fast, it was careful trotting at best.

“I’ll be OK. I won’t be quick but I’ll manage. And I this is going to hurt before long I can tell. I guess that’s the point.”

“I have something for you.” The human pulled a DC-17 blaster pistol from a holster on her belt and handed it to the woman.

Bellen took it with both metal and rubber mitts. Then demonstrated how it was worthless to her as she had no free fingers to get inside the trigger guards.

Vela looked despondent, and gelt stupid. She took the pistol back and holstered it.

“Wait, I have an Idea.” The Jedi put her helmet on and went out of the door.

She appeared a few minutes later and took her helmet off again. She handed the Zeltron an E-5 blaster rifle from the fallen security droids.

Bellen took it. Its full handguard allowed her mitt inside to hold it and use the trigger. She preferred a pistol but with no thumbs she probably needed to use both hands anyway.

“It’s perfect Vel.” Forgetting herself, she leaned over to kiss the Jedi on the cheek but only her plastic lips touched her bronze face.

For her part the Jedi didn’t seem to mind that it was plastoid and cold metal that had touched her face.

R3 booped and beeped again.

Vela looked to the Zeltron expectantly.

“She wants to know what to do with the person in the other cell. It should open now.”

“The OTHER cell. Right. I had forgotten already. I’ll go check.”

She put her helmet back on and affected her bad clone accent. “You Sheilas stay ere. Might as well keep off your feet till we need to go.”

Vela stepped out of the door and tried to affect a march to the next cell.

That Luxury Droid was standing in the corridor again. BD-3081 she had introduced herself as previously.

The droid started in her programmed lyrical tone. “Is there something I may…”

“Move along mate, security….” Vela just trailed off, she had little time to actually come up with something and was buoyed by her previous success.

The droid turned around, and began walking slowly out of sight. There was something weird about that one that she couldn’t put her finger on.

She pressed the button when she got to the other cell.

As soon as the door slid open what she saw inside shocked her deeply. She exclaimed but she just managed to stay in character. “STREWTH!”.

Chapter 5: Prisoner

Allegiances

An erotic Star Wars fan story by Over_Run_666

Chapter 5 – Prisoner

Senator Padme Amidala sat on the simple bed as the door opened. She didn’t show any fear.

Vela was taken aback. Of all people to find here! Not only someone as important as a Senator but Padme Amidala. Someone who Vela had admired from afar for years.

Sitting here now a prisoner, she was every bit as radiant as the recordings and pictures she had in her room at the academy. Those brown eyes shone, that fair skin was as perfectly smooth as she imagined, her hair as thick and shiny and she hoped.

She was only wearing a shiny white latex bikini top and thong underwear and tight fitting high heeled rubber knee boots also in white.

Around her neck was a wide white ceramic collar with a large O-ring hanging from the front. This matched the cuffs that held her wrists together behind her back, the ones that held her feet together and the long chain that connected them both.

“Aren’t you a little short for an interchangeable droid copies of identical clone soldiers?”

“My names Vela Samilon, I’m a Jedi and I’m gonna get you out mate.” Said the clone trooper armoured form in front of her. In some very vague approximation of a clone troopers’ accent.

“What?”

“Oh right.” Taking it’s helmet off revealed a blue eyed, bronze skinned pretty woman with hair in a black ponytail. “I’m a Jedi. My names Vela Samilon. We are going to get you out of here. Oh…”

The Jedi dropped to her knee and bowed her head as she remembered herself. “I’ll protect you, Queen Amidala she proclaimed.”

“Well finally. It’s Senator Amidala now and do get up that’s quite unnecessary. If you are a Jedi, where is your lightsaber?”

Vela looked a little embarrassed she wasn’t even aware that the Senator had been kidnapped. That should have been big news, they hadn’t been that out of touch with the Republic for THAT long had they? “I… it got taken when I got captured.”

“You’ve already been captured? Well, that doesn’t bode well.”

“I… got surprised by that witch.”

“Oh her, yes she is quite the thing isn’t she?”

“Anyway, let’s get you out of here before she notices. Turn around and I’ll get those cuffs off.”

The Senator did turn around till she was kneeling on the bed presenting the cuffs behind her. “I hope you’re a good shot if you are going to shoot these off.”

“I’m an expert blaster shot… your majesty” The jedi was desperately looking for the correct form of address. “Best in the academy. Of course, no one else seemed to care about blasters once they had a saber.”

“Padme will do.” The Senator smiled over her shoulder as the Jedi approached.

That was a smile that made Jedi’s heart flutter. To think she would get to spend a few days with Padme Amidala. And she knew a lot of high up Jedi would hear about this. Anakin Skywalker was going to lose his shit when he finds out she had bought back his charge.

The Jedi smiled back, trying to look as cool and in charge as she could, as she levelled the DC-15S carbine at the ceramic chain between the cuffs at point blank range. At those cuffs that were hovering over that pert smooth white ass that was not at all covered by that rubber thong.

Vela was getting pretty hot under her locked collar that was under the thick black body suit of the clone armour.

A circle of energy shot out from the barrel of the carbine, going just around the cuffs chain and being absorbed by the Senators slender wrists and pert buttocks that jiggled ever so slightly. The energy seemingly illuminating the woman’s white thong briefly.

Amidala looked over her shoulder with a look of confusion briefly before her eyes rolled back into her head and she swooned. Vela grabbed her around the shoulder just intime.

“SHIT!” Vela said looking at the rifle, at the offending setting. “Why is everything on stun in here?”

She stowed her rifle and hoisted the nearly naked Senator over her shoulder.

The cell door opened and Vela looked out, the unconscious senator on her left shoulder. The white chain between the cuffs, holding her wrists together behind her back, and the ankle cuffs holding legs bent, was nestled between those pert butt cheeks.

Looking both ways the Jedi nipped out, pressing the door close button with her free hand. Then onto the other cell door. Just before she reached it her keen force sense warned her.

She spun around drawing her DC-17 pistol leveling it behind her.

That strange Luxury droid had advanced into the corridor again and was looking at her again. It raised its hands in response to the blaster being directed towards it.

She nearly shot it but something about the droid was strange to her force senses. It had been previously too, but now she pointed a blaster at it she felt something more certainly.

A pain from inside, a desperation, feelings, a living thing was in there.

She wondered if it was a cyborg. Dassor had mentioned experiments, what if this one was one of them, a cyborg disguised as a BD3000.

Vela gestured towards the cell door. “Get in here, and don’t trying anything.”

“Yes, as you wish Sir.”

“Mam!” Vela corrected with a little annoyance before she realised, she had her helmet on and looked, and clearly sounded, exactly like a clone soldier.

She went into the small cell and unceremoniously dropped the trussed-up senator on the bed next to the shocked Zelton. Then took off her helmet.

“Wow. Is that Padme Amidala? What have they been doing to her?”

“Yes, it is… there was an incident during the rescue.”

“An incident?”

“Why are all the guns set to stun here?” Vela whined.

BD-3081 arrived in the doorway.

“Is there anything I can do for anyone here?” She said cheerfully.

“Who’s this?” Asked the pink woman.

“A witness. Also, I think she might be a cyborg in disguise or something. R3 can you slice it…Mistress?” Vela went bright red as she was forced to say what she forgot she would need to.

R3 beeped and booped as she moved over to attendant droid.

Bellen chuckled at the response that Vela didn’t understand, making her even more red in the face.

BD-3081 looked at the droid moving around her with a cable in its manipulator. “Excuse me! It is not permitted for you to…”

She was shut up by Vela’s pistol being thrust in her direction.

The luxury droid’s orange sensor flickered as the astromech began to slice.

Not long after R3 began boop and chirp. Causing Vela to look at Bellen expectantly.

Bell’s plastic lips lit up a she responded. “She said it’s not a BD unit, at least beyond the personality program, it’s not. Its real designation is YA-4A1. That’s completely unheard of. But there are some sections of programming that are designated as ‘life support’ so it does seem to be alive in there.”

“That’s what I was sensing.” She had to suck up her embarrassment. “Can you slice her so we can take her with us please Mistress.”

This elicited a positive long beep from the astromech which had the Jedi beaming proudly.

Bellen chuckled again. This caused R3 to aim its sensor at the pink girl and let out a long stream of sounds.

The Zeltron winced, vainly clutching the metal domes over her boobs. “Oww. That’s not fair… Mistress.” Her cheeks went red.

Vela smiled but knew better than to do more than that.  She was also capable of making the Jedi’s life more miserable and seemed to take these jabs seriously.

But It looked like there was a lot more R3 could do with that binder droid than just maglock her bits together.

She felt herself getting warmer at the thought, getting moister. She tried to put it out of her mind.

Chapter 6: Cyborg

Allegiances

An erotic, lesbian, BDSM Star Wars fan story By Over_Run_666

Chapter 6 – Cyborg

The Pantoran Bounty Hunter Kessan Ipox awoke suddenly as massive electric shock wracked her body. Her eyes swam with colours, ears rang with ethereal tones, she could taste something metallic. When her vision returned, she saw that she was lying on her back staring at the white ceiling of a starkly lit room.

A quiet, firm and familiar voice came from beside her. “Oh, back with us now Kessan?”

Kessan turned her head to the voice. She was on an inclined polymer covered bed surrounded by mechanical probes and monitors. Past this the pale skinned, white haired, Umbaran dark force user Dassor Hex stood grinning. The slender woman in a black latex dress stood arrogantly. Her black rubber gloved arms crossed.That witch!

Kessan leapt for her. Her shoulders moved in the bed unnaturally but she was still lying there. She had expected to be restrained but didn’t feel anything tugging on her arms.

Her mind flashed back to the trauma the last time she was conscious. Falling to the ground after those lightsaber strikes.

Dassor glanced impassively at the wall facing Kessan’s feet. The mercenary followed her gaze to a mirrored surface on it and her eyes went wide with shock.

She saw herself lying on that gurney. At least her torso and head were lying on that gurney. Her arms and legs had been removed right at the hips and shoulder. Metal sockets, with ports and thick protruding attachment bars covered the wounds. Pipes lead from each of the four metal stumps to a clear plastic container of bacta above the bed.

What there was of her was naked except that her neck was enclosed in a tight white collar and corset. They both felt completely tight, unforgiving and were massively thick. Her blue skin occasionally marred by the scars of numerous battles. Her vagina and heavy breasts were exposed and vulnerable.

“How..? When..?” Kessan stammered. She regained composer enough when she looked at Dassor, as hate filled her.

“What did you do? How long have I been out?” She snarled at the separatist.

“Oh, not long,” Hex replied, almost jovially. “I had a number of advanced medical droids ready to do this. And look who just so happened to walk back in here and make me slice off her limbs off. I couldn’t think of a better traitor to do this too.”

“I didn’t betray you.” Kessan was suddenly defensive, she hated Dassor but hated the implication of her disloyalty more. “I didn’t know you were here!”

“Oh, but you did leave my employ as soon as that Jedi turned up.”

Kessan, lay there blushing from embarrassment as well as anger now. She hadn’t meant to betray her former employer. She was a mercenary and had finished her last mission for the woman. But there was something about the Jedi that had led the otherwise mercenary soldier to join her.

“Oh, don’t feel so bad. I know that Jedi is quite the distraction. But I have you now, and you won’t be betraying me again.” Hex finished the statement by grasping Kessan’s breast, squeezing it tightly while licking the mercenaries face.

Kessan stifled a moan and turned her face away but she realised she was completely at the mercy of that woman.

“Oh.” Dassor reacted with feigned indignity. “Is my little mercenary upset because I had to remove her traitorous limbs? Well don’t worry.” She patted the woman’s breast and stepped backwards. “I wasn’t going to keep you around as limbless fuck pet. I don’t need any more of those.”

There was the sound mechanical movement from underneath the bed and suddenly white armoured tubes were born up onto the bed by numerous robotic limbs. Bacta pipes released from the caps automatically and began to retract. Massive heavily armoured cybernetic arms and legs were latched onto the metal joints at her shoulders and hips.

They were more like heavy battle droids’ limbs that cybernetic replacements and risked being too large for even this huge warrior to bare effectively.

There were other matching-coloured parts being bought up to her, and the robotic limbs that held the limbs had not let go. They lifted the now firmly attached Kessan into the air and closed the front and back of a heavily armoured cuirass around her chest. It connected with her armoured corset, her collar and the newly emplaced arms. Her chest was heavily squeezed within that armour and something painfully clamped onto her nipples.

Meanwhile another pair of heavily armoured parts were enclosing her abdomen. Kessan gasped as she felt a lubricated phallic metal object enter her pussy while another plug entered her ass. She snarled as that one was forced home, but she couldn’t move a millimetre to do anything about it. It was a great relief when her anus closed around the narrower base of the wide plug as the armour parts locked into her corset and legs.

A series of loud clanks emanated from the armoured sections, sounding very final.

An armoured backpack unit was slid behind her and clicked into place.

Finally, a helmet was brought down over her head and locked in place by that massive collar.

The bed started tip until it was nearly vertical and the robot arms dropped her back against the bed and retreated underneath again.

Kessan still couldn’t move, in fact the armour had robbed what movement she had left in her torso and neck.

The mirror was now in front of her though, revealing her current form. She was somewhat taller but far stockier. Those massive armoured limbs had been made with no attempt to seem humanoid. Instead, they were obviously robotic but far more heavily armoured than even the heaviest battle droids of this size. The hands were massive three fingered clawed fists under bulging forearms.

She felt a buzz against her back, then a few breaths later, her body was wracked with pain as nerve ending connected to cold metal technology. With sudden unexpected control bestowed to her, the droid body fell to the ground. Kessan was able to gain control of its arms and catch herself on her hands and knees.

Slowly, she made this robotic body rise to its feet.

Kessan looked at the limbs that replaced hers, at the thick armour that encased what was left of her body. Her slightly discoloured vision overlayed with readouts. It felt powerful, but that just left her with more questions as she looked towards the Sith acolyte.

Dassor looked at the Pantoran. Her pale, beautiful face resting on one hand. “Very nice. You look strong again. Pity you had to lose your limbs for it. So, tell me Kessan do you swear to serve me loyally now that I have bestowed this upon you?”

Kessan turned to the woman adopting a combat stance. She looked down at the massive metal fists. Ports on the front of those bulky vambraces that extended over the gauntlets indicated weapon muzzles and she ‘felt’ the controls from them invading her mind.

She pointed her left fist at the wall to her side. Double rings of powerful blaster stun bolts sparked against the wall. She doubted that Dassor would be that dumb but she couldn’t help but try and fight.

Kessan pointed both fists at the pale Sith. “Dass… Yeeaahhgggghh.” She had barely begun to threaten when her body was wracked with a massive electrical shock. It was through her neck, her breasts, INSIDE her. She fell to one knee panting.

The initial massive shock had abated but regular shocks zapped at her, from all her ports. Additionally, those things that were inside her started to vibrate. They stopped pretty quickly, well before she could be bought to climax. They were being interspersed with agonising shocks.

“I’m so glad you gave me a chance to illustrate your predicament. You’re trapped in that thing and I control every bit of it.” Hex had advanced to within arm’s reach of kneeling cyborg. She tapped the black cybernetics on the side of her head. I programmed that thing and believe me, I made sure nothing it could do could ever hurt me. I can make it march or fight if I have to. But I don’t need one more machine, I need a trained soldier’s skill with the power of a battle droid.”

“I can burn you inside it if I wanted, or I can give you that sweet release I’m sure you would much rather have than those nasty shocks.”

At this point Kessan was already having to stop herself just begging that horrible girl to stop the torturing her. Those bolts were tearing though her remaining body, she’d not felt such pain for a long time. All the while those little friends inside her were pushing her towards to edge, but never across it. That was almost the worst part.

Dassor smirked at the way Kessans body jerked. The Sith crossed her arms, clearly enjoying the squeals of pain and moans of pleasure escaping the mercenary’s tight-lipped mouth. “Well Kessan? I can wait here all day. I’m enjoying this little display but I don’t think you are.”

“Damn you Dassor Hex!” Kessan spat the words between the jolts of pure pain, through that uncontrollable stimulation. She grasped at that thick armour of her crotch. Desperately she pulled at it. At this point, if she couldn’t pull it off, she would be happy just to move it enough to bring her climax but it held fast.

“Oh, look at you! My little captive slut is more concerned her the vibes in her genitals than the shocks through her body. I can make it all go away, and I might even be convinced to occasionally get you off if you do a good job. You are mercenary after all. How is this any different?”

Gasping, Kessan pulled at the plates over her chest and abdomen. They were locked so tightly she could do nothing.

Kessan’s voice was as weak as it ever had been, even modulated by tech in the helmet, as she finally responded. “I… I accept.”

“What’s that Kessan? I didn’t quite get that. Any potential servant of mine would address me as Mistress.”

Kessan snarled at ongoing pain and frustration. “I accept! I’ll serve you Mistress!”

Dassor threw her head back, long white hair sent cascading over her head and down her back.

Immediately the mercenary felt the shocks stop, and the vibrations inside her become constant and gather strength.

She reached a bellowing orgasm almost immediately. It robbed the last strength from her body and she fell back to her hands and knees.

“You aren’t Kessan any longer. You will be Abductor from now. Rise now Abductor and meet your troops. You will have to learn how to make the most of the Droid forces for the separatists if you are to get any kind of decent rank. I’m hoping for Major. Major Abductor!”

The door slid open with a quiet woosh. A luxury droid with black rubber arms and a red rubber dress stood in the door way. “Mistress…”

Dassor span on the spot to face her. She pointed at the new droid accusatorily. “I told you not to interrupt me when I’m…”

“Mistress I… er… they’re getting away!”

Chapter 7: Discovery

The full squad of B2 battle droids advanced down the corridor towards them. These were the advanced program models and moving fast cover to cover. Vela and Bellen returned fire desperately.

Though neither of the girls was in ideal combat gear. Bellen was especially handicapped.  She wasn’t using her favoured weapon and wasn’t able to use thumbs so unsurprisingly was wildly inaccurate.

Vela managed to zap one with her DC-15S. Sending it folding backwards with no head. A fusillade of circular stun bolts struck the buttress the Jedi was hiding behind.

Another group of B1’s had been advancing behind. Again, advanced models. Or a droid somewhere controlling them was.

It bought home how deep in they were. This whole place was effectively against them now.

The Sith would be here soon too, no doubt, and they were so close to the elevator. Just around this corner.

“Jen… Mistress… drag the senator to the elevator,” Vela said. She was relying on the stun bolt doing nothing to the droids and hoping that Amidala didn’t take too many that she would be seriously ill.

R3 dragged the unconscious Senator by the chain connecting her ankle and wrist cuffs. Ungainly, and she might be a bit scraped but she should get out. BD-3081 followed slowly. They were wide open and Vela needed to do something.

“Bell go!” Vela shouted.

She reached out, both with her hands and with the force. Lifting a B2 droid up and out of the cover it was behind. Droids don’t get shocked and it fired one more time from its double wrist stunners. One struck the dragged Senator.

Vela was especially good at force telekinetics. She had picked it up in such a way that when it was swung at its colleagues it knocked them flying. Before she flung it at half of the B1’s, it landed amongst them scattering them, shattering some of them.

A few more bolts from the remaining B1’s forced her back into cover. Some of the stun bolts were close enough that she was glad of the clone trooper armour.

Bell stumbled towards the corner. her sexy exposed buttocks were working those painfully constrained ballet booted feet as fast as she could. But it was anxiously slow.

Vela returned fire on those B1’s but the remaining B1’s from the other half of the squad were getting up. As were most of the B2’s.

The Jedi switched concentration to the B2’s while some of them were knocked out of cover, dispatching one before they were back in position and firing. She had exposed herself though and took a stun bolt. The armour dissipated most of it leaving her just light headed, woozy. She still couldn’t take a lot more of them.

She saw that pink butt disappear round the corner and let out a deep breath.

Breathing back in she ran at full pace for the corner. Stun bolt circles struck all around and behind her, peppering the corner as she came around it.

But what she saw shocked her even more.

R3 was still dragging Amidala to the open elevator slowly.

However, the luxury droid was lying face down. Unmoving except for a judder. A shake not originating from any limb.

Bellen was on her face. Knees and ankles locked together, hands formed into those metal fist mitts and locked to her ankles, hogtied. She wasn’t still though, she shaking, all over, and were it not for the tight gagging she would be screaming at full volume. It was only severely muffled, who knows what that was doing to her.

The Jedi had no choice, her head was still swimming as she ran forwards and picked up everything in the corridor. A very difficult task indeed. She could not carefully lift and move more than one object. Especially not at this size. All she could do was release a wave of force pulling everything that was tightly secured in a rolling ball behind her. BD-3081 clanged in the air with the pained Zeltron, and with an access panel that bent around them. Amidala was added to the force ball as it went past and then R3. The group bounced into the elevator and split apart dumping them all on the floor.

The Jedi ran, panting, into the industrial turbo lift. Pressing the button just as she collapsed. Sitting with her back to the wall, the whole lift started to ascend. She pulled off her helmet so she could breathe more deeply, she dared to crack a smile.

R3 got up awkwardly. Then rolled towards the still trapped Bellen.

The Zeltron was quaking, desperately struggling against her magnetic bonds, trembling in between attempts. Her face was bright purple, eyes streaming. Her stifled screams interspersed with the sound of buzzing machinery.

Inside the binder droid was torturing Bellen mercilessly. Firing electrical shocks through her body, crotch, neck, breasts, mouth. Nipples were clamped and twisted. Neck was being constricted as if by a noose. Her clitoris was being squeezed and twisted.

Possibly the worse thing for the Zeltron was that the woman was being stimulated but twin rubber phalluses, buzzing and pulsating. Similarly, those vicious clamps on her clit and nipples buzzed away. Various electric charges around her sensitive areas, her abdomen, her crotch, her neck, her mouth, were often a delicate tickle and not a painful shock.

But they always stopped dead, as Bellen was about to reach a climax. Seemingly forever on the verge of an increasingly explosive orgasm. Constantly denied.

Likewise, the luxury droid BD-3081, was shaking more frequently. More violently.

Inside BD-3081 the prisoner was completely locked, every joint of her skintight metal prison was locked solid. Blind, dumb, immobilised, nearly completely deaf, the prisoner didn’t know at all what was happening. She only knew pain. Pain and unwilling stimulation. Every electrode against her skin that forced her limbs to move under the droid’s control, now burst into life at random. Painfully zapping muscles that couldn’t move to relieve themselves. Wide inserted plugs in her mouth, vagina and ass buzzed. Never enough to let her cum. Never so little that she could ignore it.

The prisoner was being tortured like never before without her knowing what had happened to cause it at all.

As R3-JN got to poor Bellen, suddenly the astromech spun its head around beeping loudly.

Unable to work out what the droid was saying. The Jedi turned around, staring blankly at the blinking lights on the control panel.

It was only when she felt the elevator stop, then start to go down. Did she realise the problem the droid had detected.

With a shocked look back at everyone as they began to plummet. The heart break immediately showed on her face.

She wasn’t strong enough at the moment to stop the lift and if they did her friends were slow or completely incapacitated. They’d never be able to fight their way to another elevator. Soon Dassor would have her friends again. That bitch.

R3 was racing towards the control panel.

Their descent seemed to be speeding up.

R3 connected and began spinning the probe, slicing as fast as it could. The lights on the panel pulsed left and right with every turn.

Everyone started to float in the air. Well, relatively speaking they were just traveling just slightly slower than the turbo lift they were in. Though that didn’t seem to make much difference at the moment.

R3 slowly lifted from the elevator floor, the data probe was coming loose. A flash of the light panel indicated the disconnection.

Vela, herself already half a foot in the air, pushed downwards with both hands.

She twisted in the air, extended her feet out to the roof. Quickly she reached up, or down as it were, and pushed the astromech droid back down to the floor.

As her rollers landed her dataprobe re-connected. She was spinning furiously the lights sweeping left and right with her.

Seconds later the lift started to slow rapidly. Bellen, Padme and BD-3081 hit the ground with a bump, the jedi landed with a loud thonk next to the droid.

And an “OWWWW!”

She was glad again of the clone trooper armour, force knows how the other girls felt.

They began speeding upwards. They all felt extra weight on their bodies from the rapid acceleration. But before long they were slowing and stopped, the doors sliding open.

Outside the thin atmosphere on the landing pad pulled at the air in the turbo lift.

Vela’s helmet protected her but the others would not have so easy a time.

The back ramp of the Lantillian shuttle was lowering already and just a half dozen meters away.

The Jedi breathed in deeply inside her helmet. Focusing her bruised self, knowing what she had to do.

She stepped out onto the landing pad, the elevator atmosphere rushing past her. Several battle droids began to emerge from other entrances and hidey holes, but Vela had to ignore them now. Her friends were entirely reliant on her as their air was rapidly running out.

Vela summoned the last of her spiritual strength. The force rattled the elevator before picking up the part along with several, looser parts of the turbolift.

R3 clanged against Bellen’s binding droid who clattered against the Luxury droid who was hit by the unconscious Padme.

The suspended group were pushed through the air, almost flung, towards the shuttle.

B1 battle droids opened fire, the sudden movement causing their blaster bolts to fly wide, just.

The flying group bounced, skidded and scattered into shuttles open hold.

With only Vela outside all 5 of the droids advanced towards her, firing.

Working on instinct the jedi rolled to the right, clanging in the armour, narrowly avoiding the opening fusillade. She rose to her knee swiftly, firing her blaster rifle, sending a deactivated B1 spinning backwards. The jedi rushed forward. Bolts flying behind her. Too many and too close to stop. Just as blaster bolts falling around her seemed to be getting her lead she dived into the shuttle. Blaster bolts striking the hull.

She jumped up slamming her hand into the control panel. Closing the ramp.

The ramp rose agonisingly slowly, soon several droids came into view. Firing into the hold. Vela ducked as a pair of bolts burned into the wall behind her. Beside her R3 had rose to its feet beeping, rolling towards the still locked down, shuddering, desperate looking Bellen.

Still keeping low, almost crawling, Vela rushed through the interior door towards the cockpit. Just as she reached cockpit door, finally the rear ramp rose high enough that obscure the top of the droids.

With frantic speed Vela threw her helmet off and sat down. Pressing buttons and switching levers rapidly to power up the craft.

As soon as the power came on alarms bellowed through the room.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the sweating Jedi exclaimed.

One of those alarms was clearly referencing the droids that had been discharging weapons into the craft. The other was an enemy alarm, pointing to at least one double laser cannon battery that was emerging from a rapidly unfolding shipping container and squadron of Vulture Droid Starfighters.

Vela, tired and desperate, slammed the controls. Throwing the craft forward. So quickly did it burst into life that its undercarriage gouged a trough in the landing pad. The sudden rocket exhaust blasted the two closest B1 droids into pieces that then sailed off the landing pad.

Blaster cannon bolts smashed into the Landing pad around where the shuttle had just been. They spread wide, at this range, at this shallow an angle, one even evaporating another battle droid. But several would have hit, were it not for that desperate manoeuvre.

The bolts continued to fly towards the shuttle. The Vultures were getting ever closer, and the shuttle was still no-where near a useful speed and nearly on the ground, limiting it where it could evade.

Vela dropped it off the edge of the pad, right next to the laser cannon battery. A desperate ploy. The laser was operational. Turning to target the craft unexpectedly next to it as more blaster bolts from Vultures lit up the pad, exploding the battery and slamming into the shuttle, that had not half a second before, raised its shields.

Sweating, grunting, Vela yanked the controls. Weaving the large craft low between rocky outcrops. The speed was too low to effectively jink away from the attackers and rising too slowly to get away in open space. The jedi’s only hope was using the terrain for cover while accelerating.

As if on cue the cockpit was illuminated by a blaster beam that sailed past the front of the shuttle. A fraction of a second later a rock outcrop exploded. Its unwilling sacrifice defended the craft by chance. The following stream of bolts from a twin laser cannon turret, that had been elevated from a crater, went behind the ship.

Vela jinked away around another rocky hillock which absorbed more red bolts. She prayed to the force that it would survive long enough for her to go over the horizon.

The shuttle shook again, with screeching alarms. The Vultures had gained altitude enough to locate the target and were pelting it with blaster fire.

Vela pulled hard to the left. Scattering a natural menhir into a shower of rocks, but avoiding a fusillade of bolts that chewed up the ground to her right.

The vultures had got close enough to sail past with their far, far greater speed.

In desperate need of room to roll Vela pulled up, jamming a the hyperdrive controls. It began processing but at a terrifyingly slow pace.

Vela couldn’t fail to ignore the shield warning light. It indicated it had, one, perhaps two hits left.

Frantically pushing more buttons on the hyperdrive controls had to stop as the radar indicated the Starfighters coming around again.

Vela barrel rolled, the cockpit shaking form another impact. Sparks showered from an damaged unit behind her. The Jedi’s eyes welled with tears. After all her hard work this seemed to be it. She was going to fail to protect her friends, Bellen and even R3. Even if she was being a bitch at the moment.

The radar indicated the fighters wheeling around, a blaster bolt far to her right signalled the attack run. She gripped the stick and jinked, though it all seemed too little too late.

Vela heard laser cannons firing and the sensor transformed one of the Vulture signals into a scattering of debris while the other two broke from their attack run.

A voice came over the coms.

“Get that hyperdrive going Vela. We aren’t out of the woods yet,” said Bellen Eshtan’s disembodied voice.

“Great shooting Bell,” said Vela, frantically recovering the crafts control, hand’s gripping the stick tightly.

“No one gets in the way of a Zeltron and her orgasm!” said Bellen venomously.

Stealing a deep breath Vela glanced between the hyperdrive and the radar, completely on edge.

The remaining Vultures swung back round on attack vectors spinning to avoid green bolts of return fire. They came in close blasters firing streams of deadly beams… just as the ship zipped into hyperspace.

Vela furtively pressed buttons ensuring it was on course and on autopilot before running back through the cockpit door to the ladder to the shuttle’s double laser cannon turret.

Looking up, Bellen Eshtan’s incredible ass greeted her. Her metal ballet booted feet were hooked around the ladder as she slid down.

Vela scooped Bellen up before she even hit the ground. Swinging her around squeezing her tightly. “Bellen! By the force. I was so scared!” Vela said.

“You were scared?” replied Bellen. Hooking her flexible legs around the Jedi’s armoured waist.

Their eyes met, Sapphire to Amethyst, further elucidation completely driven from their minds.

Vela kissed Bellen but her lips found only plastic and metal. She pulled back red faced.

Bellen consoled the Jedi by squeezing her tightly. Looking at her with kind eyes and saying, “I.. I thought I’d never get up that ladder in these hideous boots.

Vela craned her neck to look behind her. Reaching back to feel those metal tip-toe boots with their tiny straight wings that were supposed to be heels.

Still tightly embracing. Their touch, even through their rubber and metal, polyweave and plastoid coverings excited each other. Perhaps partially because of them. Bellen, not fully recovered, grunted inside her chrome binding droid. “Someone had better be able to get me off in this, I’m dying here.”

R3 rolled up the corridor into the lounge where they were embracing. She turned to them and began beeping and whistling.

Vela looked at Bellen expectantly.

With an eye roll, the scoundrel translated. “Mistress says she reactivated the luxury droid who is tending to the senator in the guest room. We need to go to the cockpit to plan our next move.”

“Yes Mistress,” they said as one.

Chapter 8: Escape

Allegiances

An erotic, Lesbian, BDSM, Star Wars fan-fiction

By Over_Run_666

Chapter 8 – Escape

Dassor Hex stood on the smoking, blackened, landing pad. The shattered laser cannon turret still glowing red hot.

She was illuminated from below by the red of her lightsaber. Despite her not having even seen the escapees it burned as an indicator of her rage.

The Sith apprentice stared at the flitting distant lights.

When one shifted red, then disappeared. It was clear what happened before a feminine robot voice reported in her head.

She howled in anger despite the thin atmosphere robbing it of most of its volume.

Turning, she purposefully marched back to the open stairway.

The pleasure droid BD4069 stood just off to the side of the stairs. It looked for a second like she might say something, perhaps a situation update or some words of consolation.

She wisely thought better of it. Cut off by the palpable incessant rage emanating from Hex.

Dassor grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the stairs. The still ignited sabre in her other hand occasionally slicing a glowing gash in the stairs or wall.

The droid was almost stumbling to keep herself from falling.

Once inside the room beneath the landing pad, sparks still falling from the ceiling, BD4069 pressed the door close button. Slowing the rush of air venting in to space that whipped at their loose clothes. Partially flickering lights in the ceilings cast deep shifting shadows across the pair.

Hex stared daggers at the droid for a second before turning to the wall and pressing a button on a wall console.

“Issue order 34!” she spat at the receiver.

She turned back and pointed her sabre and the rubber clad droid BD4069.

The droid took half a step back in shock, her mouth dropping open in a programmed response.

Almost immediately the droid shut off her blue sensors and pulled her red rubber dress over her head. It creaked and snapped on her own rubber skin before it hit the metal floor with a slap.

BD4069 dropped to her knees, her white latex breasts, torso and vagina exposed.

“Yes Mistress!” she said confidently. If it would make you happy for just a second then please tear me apart.”

Dassor Hex stepped forward, lightsaber of over her shoulder.

Ready to deliver a killing blow.

She paused for second.

Then her red saber blade retracted into the hilt.

Dassor stepped forward again. She bent down so her mouth was close to BD4069’s audio sensor.

“You’re lucky you’re so piteous… and cute… 69,” she whispered.

“I’m just how you programmed me Mistress,” replied the droid meekly.

“You’re right. I am that good. Clearly, it’s not worth me wasting that effort,” said Dassor, having calmed down quite a bit.

The Umbran put a hand around the droid’s neck and pulled her onto her high heeled feet. Her other hand clutching up BD4069’s bag.

Dassor pushed 69 backwards until she against an inactive console. 69 was bent until her shoulders touched the consoles sloped front. A testament to the droid’s flexibility and the Sith’s strength.

Taking several steps back Dassor reached into the satchel. She pulled out a red phallic object and dropped the bag theatrically.

Then, with one arm and a swift flourish pulled that stretchy, loose, glossy, hooded, black rubber dress over her head and let it fall the ground in a pile.

Her pert, blue tinged breasts bounced as the latex pulled against them. Her small mauve nipples, wobbled, as they were revealed, erect.

Throwing her head back, Dassor sighed loudly as she ran her black, latex gloved hand down her neck and body. She put the triangular cup end of that red phallus above her crotch. Covering her clitoris with one corner, pressing it until it was flat and solidly adhered.

She stared at the droid intensely as she advanced on her. Though 69’s facial expressions were limited her body language braced in programmed fear.

When the Sith was next to her, Dassor put a hand on her buttock and span her over. Her white rubber coated ass exposed. The Sith pressed her head against the console as she pushed the bright red rubber member into the droid’s anal orifice.

The droid, though it couldn’t feel pleasure as sentients do, acted perfectly as if it could. She winced and writhed, tensing against the panel she was pushed into.

Dassor thrust her hips against the droid’s rubber bottom with a slap. Again, and again, she pushed into 69’s tight ass, forcing her against the machine.

69 panted, squealed, and moaned.

Dassor Hex snarled as the thrusting made the device vibrate against her clitoris.

She continued to slam her hips in the droid’s ass until finally Dassor threw her head back, rolled her eyes and screamed in climax.

Only then could 69, sensors flickering, robotic mouth opening and a rubber tongue extending, come to a squealing, simulated, orgasm.

****

Senator Amidala’s beautiful brown eyes flicked open wearily. From her position, half her face buried in this strange bunk, she looked around the unfamiliar room.

It was a small undecorated cabin, though some of the stowage was full with supplies. Indicating it was used as storage.

 The hum of the engines, the pulsing of the wall and the blue tunnel outside the window told her that they were in in Hyperspace.

The scent of this place was both familiar and strange. She had been in enough working private vessels to recognise the fuel, oil, and metal smells. But the other scents, more personal scents were out of place. Fragrances rather than sweat, indicated a more feminine crew than she was used to.

The aroma was making her heart beat, ever so slightly stronger.

She wasn’t alone in the room. A feminine humanoid droid was tidying up the room, indicating it was far more obviously a storage room before this luxury service droid attempted to make it more homely. Padme found herself staring at the droid’s shapely butt under its orange skirt.

Her heart beat a little stronger again.

She tried to blink away these strange feelings.

Padme found she was prevented from rising by a strap across her shoulders and her hands and feet bound together.

At the rattling and clunk of the restraints the droid turned around.

“Lady Amidala,” said the droid as she bowed. “I am BD-3081, though you may call me Bett if you wish. Mistress Jen has tasked me with tending to you.”

‘Mistress Jen, doesn’t sound like she belongs to that stupid jedi,’ thought Padme. She started to worry that she was not in fact rescued. The fact this droid seemed pleasant enough didn’t mean much.

 “Well hello Bett. Am I a prisoner here?” asked Padme. The senator let out a groan as some residual queasiness from being stunned made her head swim.

“Oh sorry,” said Bett as she tiptoed across towards Padme.

Padme couldn’t help but notice how the droid shook her hips sexily as she walked on her high heels.

“I just secured you to the bunk while you were asleep because there was some turbulence but we seem to have got away,” Bett said as she bent down to undo the strap across Padme’s shoulder.

The droid pushed the senator up onto her knees on the bunk.

Padme found her hands and feet were still held close together. Craning to look behind her she saw that the chain between her wrist and ankles was put through a hand hold at the edge of the bed and clipped high on the wall giving her only a few inches of movement, effectively hogtying her on the bed.

“Are you going to get me out of these chains Bett?” asked Padme.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Those chains are too hard, with too high a melting point, to remove easily. Mistress Jen said I mustn’t try to remove them in case I hurt you,” Bett replied.

“Oh, well that can’t be helped.” Padme said downheartedly.

Perhaps it was that strangely alluring scent, perhaps the sexy luxury droid, or perhaps she was just getting used to being tied up but she was definitely getting turned on by this state of affairs.

‘Curious,’ she thought to herself.

“I’ll just make sure you don’t fall if make a hard manoeuvre,” Bett said flatly. She said it so calmly, and moved so confidently that Padme didn’t say anything as the droid clipped the ring on her collar to a short strap from the wall behind her.

It wasn’t because of the tightness on her neck that Padme felt her breathing getting heavier.

“You must be very thirsty Senator,” said the droid reaching down to a bottle in caddy by the bed.

“I am quite thirsty actually,” Padme admitted.

Bett picked up the bottle and bought it up to Padme’s waiting lips.

The droid got close to the Senator as she did so. Very close.

Bett bought her leg onto the bunk alongside Padme’s, effectively straddling her knee.

The rubber pressed and pulled on Padme’s bare knee. The rubber of Betts short skirt… and her… sex?

Padme was surprised that the droid’s rubber crotch was so walm. ‘A nice touch by LeisureMech Enterprises,’ thought the senator.

As the thirsty Padme glugged down the water Bett pressed closer. Her large soft rubber covered breasts pressed against her upper arm and own rubber clad breast.

Padme focused on the squeaking of their rubber covered breasts. She didn’t know why it was suddenly so enticing.

With the bottle completely empty Bett dropped it back in the caddy.

As their breasts squeaked and snapped over one another. Padme closed her eyes, with her head still held back.

“Is it hot in here?” Padme moaned. Eyes still closed.

“Yes, Lady Amidala. It is getting hotter,” said Bett, flatly, cryptically.

Padme’s eyes snapped open as a large white rubber ball was pushed into her mouth.

The droid expertly snapped the catch on the straps behind Padme’s head.

Padme shook her head but the ball gag was firmly held in her mouth. Holding her mouth open achingly wide.

Bett leaned against Padme, squeezing their breasts together. The droids silver metal hands holding the senator’s narrow waist tightly.

“It is about time I tended to you Lady Amidala,” she whispered directly into Padme’s ear. The Senator’s eyes went wide. It seems this Jen should have watched the specific wording of her commands with this droid.

“It wouldn’t be right if we disturbed the rest of the crew would it? I was fortunate that I found this gag in one of the occupant’s rooms. I was only looking for panties.”

Padme looked on. Like a captured animal as the droid pulled away from her. Bett crouched as she ran metal hands down the woman’s hips, onto her butt.

With a smooth snap, Bett yanked Padme’s rubber panties under her ass and down to her knees. Padme was pulled forward to the extent of her chains.

By now her powerlessness, her vulnerability, in the face of this pleasure droid was making the senator completely wet. She was breathing heavily through her nose. Drool was running down her chin.

Bett tugged the white rubber panties down to Padme’s ankles.

She stood and pulled up the Senators white rubber top. Letting her alluring peach breasts bounce free. Bett gently caressed them, eliciting a stifled moan from Padme.

Stepping back Bett pulled her own rubber top over her head. Her own large, rubber, orange breasts with their large pink fake nipples bounced pleasingly.

With a quick bend the droid then pulled off her orange rubber mini-skirt letting it fall to the floor. She stepped out it of back to Padme.

Amidala shuddered as the metal hands touched her bare legs.

This was all so confusing to her. Padme had never felt like this about a droid before. Never got turned on by being bound before. Hadn’t thought about a woman like this since…

All so confusing. Yet she could do nothing about it. Did she even want to do anything about it?

****

Shocks in the prisoner’s thighs and calves made her bend down, knees wide.

She had been moved by those muscle stimulations far more in the past few minutes than she had in weeks, perhaps months.

Though she couldn’t see, smell, feel, and barely hear the world outside her metal cocoon she knew these movements.

They traced the body of a beautiful woman, felt herself disrobing, felt her breasts squeezed against the body of another. Her inescapable robot shell was making love to another woman.

This was proven finally as painful shocks in her face forced her mouth open and she was moved towards that mysterious other woman’s crotch.

****

Senator Padme Amidala looked on shocked as the droid’s mouth opened. Rubber coated teeth were visible. A pink rubber tongue extended expectantly.

The droid bought her head to Padme’s dripping sex.

Senator Amidala slammed her eyes shut as that rubber tongue touched her most sensitive spot. She just felt electrical pulses inside the tongue moving it. The tip of that droid’s tongue vibrated her flesh at a delicious frequency.

As that pulsing, shocking, tongue explored her, Padme let out long stifled yelps. Her whole body trembled.

The droid’s tongue excited every part of her that it touched like nothing had before. It moved with mechanical precision precisely where it would deepen or extend the experience.

Even so Padme climaxed violently very quickly.

Perhaps if the droid had finished there…

But Bett had other plans. Padme rocked back and forth as her body was wracked with orgasm after orgasm.

Bett only stopped, when the last climax left Padme hanging limply from the strap connected to the collar around her neck.

Chapter 9: Shuttle Life

Allegiances

An erotic, Lesbian, BDSM, Star Wars fan story

By Over_Run_666

Chapter 9 – Shuttle Life

Bellen Eshtan stared at the Jedi Vela Samilon hungrily. Her tortuous edging had made her angry horny and desperately impatient.

Undoing her Clone trooper armour Vela looked at Bellen expectantly. “Are you just going to watch?”

“What?” replied Bellen, a tad confused. “Oh, you mean, you getting undressed?”

“Yes,” Vela said.

“Yes obviously. Unless you need a hand,” Bellen replied.

Vela turned around herself and began to pull the black body glove down. “No, I’m fine thanks.”

Bellen groaned loudly. “You’re supposed to be getting me off. No point being shy now.”

The Jedi looked over her shoulder. “I’m supposed to be allowing you to get off. There’s a difference.”

The scoundrel looked down at the black rubber and metal mitts around her hands. “Oh,” she said, visibly crestfallen. “I see how it is. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised when I look like a droid.”

“Oh no, no. I didn’t mean that,” Vela said anxiously, rushing over to the dejected Bellen. Clutching her bondage droid mitts with her own armoured gauntlets she looked the scoundrel in her eyes. “It’d take a lot more than this to make you look anything less than radiant.”

Vela smiled broadly.

Bellen looked up, the droid covering the lower half of her face meant it wasn’t possible to tell if she was smiling but her eyes didn’t look quite so devastated.

Vela continued, “We’ll get you out of this once we come back with the troopers. We’ll find one of the cipher rod’s and be able to unlock that thing. JN just think’s it too dangerous to try to remove it without that.”

Bellen’s head sagged again. “And until then I’m unfuckable.”

“No. nooo. It’s just my Jedi oaths. I’m not supposed to have attachments.”

“Hmm.” Bellen’s robotic mouth lights pulsed in disbelief. “I know that’s only a thing for proper relationships. Even the big guy said that Jedi were allowed to have sex… you know… as long as they keep it cazh.”

“Keep it cazh,” Vela replied under her breath, chuckling. “Figures that you would know all the rules Bel.”

Vela’s mind was racing though. She hadn’t had sex since that night with Dassor Hex. So many years she had saved herself for the knighthood that didn’t ask for her celibacy.

Bellen, an expert at humanoid nature noticed the Jedi’s pondering. The scoundrel stood up, her mitted hand’s grabbed Vela’s own more tightly. “You haven’t done it since that Sith Witch have you?”

“No. Not even on my own till she caught me earlier.” Vela said, looking down, concentrating.

“It doesn’t matter. A jedi does not crave these things.”

“Vela,” Bellen called, causing the Jedi to look up at her. Past her body and the lower half of her face that was encased by that droid, to her light pink skin and those dazzling purple eyes.

“You’re the strongest, smartest, bravest and most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” Bellen said. She seemed to be being completely honest to the Jedi’s keen natural and supernatural senses. “You deserve to do what you want to do and you deserve to be happy doing it.”

Vela smiled widely. Bellen always knew what to say and that extended to being supportive as much as it did to be hooking up.

Bellen looked a bit sheepish. “I really need you to unlock this thing so I can tend to myself.”

The Jedi chuckled but she knew the Zeltron was right. Little green lights all over Bellen’s tight binder droid controlled every function. They had now been programmed only to respond to this little crew but could not respond to Bel’s mitted hands.

A devilish glint appeared in the scoundrels’ violet eyes. “Oh, Mr Clone trooper, please let this prisoner free. Please let me touch myself. I’ll be quick.”

Vela looked down at herself. She had forgotten that she was in the process of removing this clone armour.

“Oh no,” she said, still smiling. “I’m not doing this kinky roleplay.”

Pulling the neck of the body glove Vela began to peel the tight armoured suit off her.

It was proving a little more difficult than the jedi expected. There was a knack to it that the Jedi had not learned.

With the glee of child opening a life day present Bellen began helping undress the Jedi.

Between them both they freed Vela’s strong arms and pulled the chest down.

“Woah! I didn’t realise you were going Republic Commando under that.” Bellen cut herself off with a loud gasp.

Vela covered her big bronze breasts with her arms but it was too late. She could feel a warmth in her cheeks from the embarrassment.

“Tell me you’ve always had those,” said Bellen, smiling as she continued to pull the armour suit down.

“No, no, of course not,” Vela objected.

Bellen had not missed the gold-coloured chains that were hanging down from the nipple rings. One especially looked to be leading somewhere interesting.

Vela’s hand shot down the front of her armour. Her off hand adjusting to clutch both breasts tightly. Covering both nipples, the soft flesh blossoming around her arm and hand.

The chain was not the only thing the scoundrel noticed as she was face to belly with that golden athletic body.

“God you’re beautiful Vela. You’re shredded like a Kashyyyk Bedwagar. And those tits are glorious.” Bellen said.

Tugging with all her might Bellen pulled the body glove down further.

Her lady parts already covered by a cupped hand Vela had to stand there in shame.

Bellen saw where that chain led. She pounced without mercy. Leaving the armour suit around the Jedi’s knees the scoundrel picked up the trailing gold chain.

“Leave that alone Bel.” Vela said.

“Leave it alone?” Bellen took up the chain’s slack in with her thick mitt. “This is all I ever wanted.”

Vela squeaked at the gentle tug on her clitoris. She slammed her hand over her crotch trying to hold it down. Her voice was still a little pitchy as she tried to explain. “Dassor made me put those rings in myself. Then R3 put this chain on as some kind of disguise.”

Bellen replied with excitement, “And I missed all that? Was she pulling you around naked by this? I’m so jealous. You were armoured head to toe by the time you got to me…”

The scoundrel was cut off when Vela risked exposing her breasts by reaching out and pressing the green button in the centre of Bellen’s collar. The button obligingly went red as Vela snatched the gold chain back. “That’s enough out of you Bell. About time I used your mute button. I’m actually going to miss that when we get you out of it.” Vela turned her back to Bellen.

Only when the Jedi heard a strange muffled gasping from behind her did she turn around.

Bellen was clutching her throat, her face was going purple.

Vela jumped towards her, pulling the scoundrels hands away from her neck and pressed the small red light.

It obligingly turned green and Bellen’s chest started to rise and fall. She was breathing heavily through her nose.

“You could at least be pounding me if you were going to choke me out,” Bellen panted.

“By the force Bel. I’m sorry.” Vela was overcome with remorse. Seeing that the Zeltron was having trouble catching her breath the Jedi reached up to her face. She pressed a green button on her left cheek, it seemingly did nothing. Then she pressed the light on the right cheek.

Bellen’s robotic mouth opened into a circle, her tongue lolling out.

Looking confused for second, Bellen reached up with her black and silver mitts. Though in reality her tongue was far better at exploring her new gag than her thick rubber coated hands. Tiny squeaks escaped her open mouth and she looked at Vela with expectation.

It dawned on the Jedi as she pressed the red button her left cheek.

“Testing,” said Bellen, her rubber lips lighting up. “Oh, that sounds weird.”

She wasn’t wrong the Jedi noticed. The droids voice a wasn’t perfect copy of her own when her mouth closed and it was different again now. Clearly mouth shape was involved in it and she was unable to fully enunciate some sounds.

“It’s weird I can talk at all gagged like this,” Bellen said offhandedly.

Hot flushes filled Vela’s cheeks as she had personal information confirmed about the Zeltron that she had only fantasised about.

Bellen clearly detected the Jedi’s weakness and pounced.

“Oh powerful Jedi,” the Zeltron pleaded as she dropped to her hands and knees. “Have mercy on this pitiful scum.”

Vela chuckled a little.

Rubber covered paws pulled the rest of the clone Armour off the Jedi and Bellen dropped in a pile. They then stroked the Jedi’s calves as Bellen edged closer.

“Please allow this Villain to touch herself.”

Vela stepped back away from Bellen’s touch. It was shocking to the Jedi how easily Bel adopted such a submissive stance. It was equally shocking how much she found herself enjoying it. She had to cover her crotch again with her hand. Ostensibly because the Zeltron was at angle that would give her a good view. The reality was that Vela was afraid she would drip right in front of this beautiful woman.

Unable to resist herself Vela offered a foot to the girl.

That rubber gag pressed against her toes. The Zeltron’s expert tongue dipped between her digits.

Vela shuddered at the sensation. She briefly considered pulling her foot back before rolling her weight onto her ankle pointing her toes upwards. Her big toe disappeared into the Zeltron’s gag where it was swaddled by that experienced tongue.

Sitting on the bed before she fell down Vela let out a series of pleased squeaks. Bellen’s Mitts firmly massaged the rest of her foot as she lovingly enveloped the toes with her soft, wet tongue.

Her neck felt like it was getting tense as Vela fought against the feelings. She had always enjoyed a foot massage. She worked her feet pretty intensely after all, but even she was not aware of how much this would turn her on. She couldn’t even begin to guess how Bellen was able to uncover this weakness of hers.

Vela proffered her other foot and the scoundrel gladly gave that one the same treatment. The Jedi was more comfortable now, eyes closed, hands and arm squeezing against her breasts. Sighs of pleasure more easily found themselves escaping her mouth.

Bellen rose to her knees, rubber mitts gently stroking up the Jedi’s legs to her thighs. “Is the lady pleased?”

Still covering her crotch and her breasts Vela lifted up a foot. She elegantly placed it onto Bellen’s metal covered shoulder and pushed her back to a sitting a position.

She didn’t really have any experience with the situation but Vela tried to affect a dominant tone. “You’ve done well. Perhaps I shall let you have some fun.”

“I’ve got toys in my Room,” Bellen suggested.

Looking around her own austere cabin Vela failed to even think of anything that could be an ad hoc replacement. “Ok… I guess.”

“Yay!” Bellen said excitedly beginning the slow processes of rising on to her feet. With her metal ballet boots it was a multi stage process using any furniture she had nearby.

Vela was standing and finished pulling Bellen up.

Bellen pressed the door release and began the many tiny steps to her own room. But not before grabbing the golden chain connected to Vela’s nipples and clitoris.

Eyes wide and face burning with embarrassment the Jedi was forced to follow naked into the corridor.

It was mere feet down the passageway, and even with guests, none of whom should be walking around but still… Vela was overcome with shame. She was trying desperately to cover her breasts, to stop the painful pulling on her nipples. And the more painful pulling on her increasingly wet pussy.

Of course, she knew this scoundrel was still crippled by her wearable droid. That she herself was still stronger and possessing of force powers. Being honest with herself, which was only fitting as she was pulled through the ship naked by chain through her nipples and clit. She was just enjoying this back and forth teasing too much to stop at this point.

Entering Bellen’s room seemed to be like going into a different world. That cell, had always seemed overly busy and intimidating to Vela… until tonight. The fragrances, the slightly blue lighting, the numerous mirrors, the additional draped soft furnishings, they all made sense now she was naked and her blood pumping.

Bellen sprawled on the bed, her mitt stroked the hard metal covering her crotch as she gently pulled on the chain. Her mouth was still locked open and she licked around her glowing rubber like lips.

Vela was pulled to the bed and crawled between Bellen’s knees. Her hand stroking the Zeltron’s pink thighs.

“So, my beautiful Jedi knight. Does this mean you’ll open me up and let me get to myself?” Bellen implored.

Vela crawled over the scoundrel until she was a foot away from her face. Her black ponytail hanging down over her shoulder. “I think maybe I do want to help you out with that.”

“Yay,” Bellen squeaked with joy. She rolled over and opened a drawer under her bunk.

The Jedi’s eyes went wide, she felt herself blush and turned away sharply. The armoury of sex toys was far more personal than she wanted to acknowledge.

Hearing the clump of the drawer closing Vela looked back. Bellen was holding a doubled ended electric blue dildo towards her.

With a quiet click it started to vibrate aggressively in her mitt before she turned it off again.

Vela gulped as she separated the scoundrels’ knees and looked at that metal plate over her crotch. There was a number of green buttons, no doubt for vibrating and shocking. Vela knew Bellen had been through enough of that even if she could get it to completion this time.

Pressing what looked like an obvious one made the Jedi breathe out deeply with relief as the panels seemed to open. It whirred for a while before the main panel retracted up Bellen’s durasteel covered belly. The scoundrels’ legs were forced further apart as inside four hooks pulled at her labia making it gape wide open. Bellen winced at the discomfort.

Seeing this made the Jedi pall. She leaned over the prostrate woman gently laying her hand on her robot face. “Bellen, are you all right? Do you want to stop?”

“No Vela,” said Bellen softly. “That was nothing, just a bit of a shock.” Her rubber mitt stroked the Jedi’s bronze hand. “I’d go through anything for my gorgeous Jedi.”

Vela smiled wildly.

Bellen beckoned the Jedi closer with her other hand.

Dutifully Vela leaned in. Her face was now scant inches from the prone scoundrel. Bellen arched up to whisper in the dark-skinned woman’s ear. “This thing’ll do us both fine so don’t bother pumping in and out. Just press our clits against each other and lean towards me so it’s pressing on your spot.”

Vela smiled. She was quite nervous about doing this again and felt a great weight lifted with that simple advice. Bellen was so wise… in this area of expertise… she was the Yoda of fucking.

Leaning further in Vela gently kissed Bellen’s open mouth. Their tongues gently caressed each other for what seemed like forever.

Eventually Vela broke backwards leaving a short trail of spittle to Bel’s open gag forcing the Jedi to wipe her mouth.

“You’re so hot human,” Bellen said as seductively as she could with it going via the droid. “I’m so happy right now.”

Vela was feeling quite a bit more confident and began to take control of the situation. Sitting up she held each of Bellen’s wrists. With a malicious glint in her eye she pressed a button on each. Immediately Bel’s hands clamped into solid metal fists.

Not having finished yet Vela pulled both of Bellen’s arms above her head. Pressing more buttons Vela locked the scoundrels’ forearms together. Sitting up fully Vela pushed the prostrate girls ankles against her thighs and pressed buttons on each locking her legs bent double.

Bellen writhed in the bed. Pulling against each of her bonds in turn. Each defiant clank eliciting a whine from Bellen. “Oh Vela, you’re so strict.”

Vela, now filled with a mix of power and excitement leaned back over Bellen, one hand on each side of her chest. Her power over the Zeltron was nearly complete as if the Jedi didn’t absolutely overpower her even without this binding droid.

Clearly getting more anxious and more turned on, Bellen clearly began to worry. “Mistress I.. Beautiful mistress. I’m at your mercy.”

Vela, who was trying to maintain an air of supremacy, couldn’t help but smile a little too pleasantly. Her hand drifted to Bellen’s face. Taking the end of the golden chain she put it into Bellen’s mouth and pressed buttons on either cheek. The Zelton’s mouth clamped tightly around the chain and she lost the ability to speak. The chain attached to Vela’s nipples and clitoris a symbol of trust even if she could only tug on it. Even then it was too long, unless perhaps Vela was arching backwards.

The Jedi’s hand gently brushed down the other woman’s arm and across her smooth pink armpit. Bellen wiggled at the touch.

Then the Jedi sat up between the Zeltron’s legs. She picked up that double ended dildo and fed it into Bellen’s gaping vagina. The scoundrel squirmed, as much as she could move. Her head moved as if she was moaning but she was so tightly gagged she barely let out a squeak.

Leaning back to slide it into herself Vela winced as her nipples were pulled when the chain went taut. Reeling it back in she lifted herself up till she was able to feed her end of the dildo into herself.

With a vibrato sigh she took the length into her.

She had fed both of her legs between Bellen putting her feet on either side of the scoundrel’s belly. Confident that she was pressed closely enough, Vela reached underneath and turned the machine on. Instantly she gasped as vibrations rocked her most precious place.

Rising herself up on her elbows she applied that pressure to her most sensitive spot and to that of her lover. The women’s engorged clitorises kissed. The ring through her danced in the vibrations driving the Jedi absolutely wild. She had to pull back time and again. The growing wetness and heat between them indicated that both girls were quickly feeling that growing bliss. But Vela knew that Belen needed more time here.

Vela’s eyes were closed tightly in concentration. Robbed of her voice, of most of her movement, the Jedi was almost feeling for her friend’s body reaching a fever pitch.

It wasn’t long before she started to feel a disturbance in the force.

Pushing herself up again the vibrations raced through them both bringing them to the very edge of ecstasy. They could feel their bodies tense against each other.

But Vela pulled away preventing herself coming.

Confused she pressed again and unconsciously stopped herself once more.

Bellen’s body quivered in frustration.

It was then Vela’s eyes shot open as a horrifying realisation came over her.

She leaned back, reaching for the intercom. The chain on her nipples pulled but she was still out of range. Having no choice, she leaned further, pain shooting through her nipples, but she touched that console button.

“Mistress…” she panted. “May I c..cum pleeeease.”

Grimacing at the pain she slid back towards Bellen and bought herself back up. Applying pressure between them again.

The intercom flashed to life with a string of beeps chirps and whistles.

The girls seemed to be joined together as a single shudder of blissful climax took them both.

Vela howled as it over came her.

Despite her superlative physical fitness, the Jedi could barely find the strength to turn off that vibrator.

After a short while to recover her strength Vela slid the device free of Bellen then herself.

Sitting up Vela closed Bellen’s crotch panel then crawled on top of her.

Tears dropped from her eyes as she beamed at the scoundrel beneath her.

****

Vela and Bellen hugged each other in the ships tight shower. The warm water cascaded down their bodies. There was barely room for them both in there but they gave precious little attention to actually showering.

“You know, R3 didn’t say we had to shower at the same time,” Vela ventured as her ass was squeezed against the wall yet again.

“I couldn’t take the risk of disappointing Mistress,” Bellen replied.

The human tried not to laugh. She went a little more serious as she asked, “How are you so OK with this?”

“Oh, you know, V. It’s not that I’m not scared, that I don’t want to be out of this thing. I just want to make it as fun as I can while we’re stuck like this.”

Vela couldn’t help but reflect for a moment. She had been anything but ok with the situation but the poor Zeltron was much worse off and still managed to put on a happy face.

“I was really scared locked in that cell in this thing. Then you appeared and I knew it was going to be OK. Even if you can’t get me out of it yet.”

Vela broke into a smile herself. “We’ll get you out of it. R3 is right, once we get the Clone Troopers and take that Separatist base we’ll find that cipher rod and get you out. Anyway, I need to see Padme before we get to Tanbanta Dopa for resupplies.”

A mischievous glint shone in Bellen’s eyes as she backed off and started to scrub the Jedi’s golden skin. “Looking forward to seeing Padme?” she needled.

“What? No.” Vela was sure the shower had just got hotter. “M… Mistress said I had to go look after her that’s all.”

“At least I’ll be clean. I don’t even have my good robe anymore,” Vela recalled out loud.

“I have a Naboo robe you can borrow,” Bellen replied excitedly.

Chapter 10: Handmaiden

Allegiances

An erotic, Lesbian, BDSM, Star Wars fan story

By Over_Run_666

Chapter 10 – Handmaiden

Senator Padme Amidala looked up in response to a knock on her door.

It couldn’t have been that luxury droid. SHE had no compunction to stand on ceremony.

Wiggling back onto her Knees she confidently called out, “COME IN!”.

When the door has slid open the Jedi Vela Samilon was standing there. She was wearing a brightly patterned robe that barely covered her butt cheeks and was tied around her waist with a very wide silk belt. Her deep cleavage was completely displayed in that outfit. At least her legs were covered by thigh high socks.

Vela looked sheepish as she entered. She was already regretting letting Bellen Eshtan dress her.

“That’s a nice yukata Vela. Do you always dress like a prostitute, when you aren’t pretending to be a clone trooper?” There was a definite spite in Padme’s voice.

Vela was completely taken aback. “I… err… I lost my good Jedi robe. Bellen told me this was a Naboo style robe.”

“On parts of Naboo it is,” Padme replied as her hogtying chains rattled. “What are you doing here anyway. Have you come to shoot me in the ass again?”

“N..no. Qu.. Queen Amidala!” Vela blustered.

The Jedi grunted at her own stupidity. As if Padme actually thought that. “JN said I needed to come and ‘do anything you needed,’ your Majesty.”

“It’s Senator Amidala now. So, you can get me out of this finally,” said Padme. She strained against her rattling chains performatively.

Colour drained from Vela’s face. “Anything except that.” She said sheepishly. “Jen said not to touch them. Those chains are too hard and with too high a melting point to remove here. We’d hurt you or break the ship first. We’re on our way to Tanbanta Dopa and we can get something there to get you out.”

“Well at least unhook it so I can move around,” Padme said looking over her shoulder. She was indicating the hook the chain was wrapped around high on the wall. The chain that led through the handle by her bed pinning her hands and feet close together.

Vela moved towards the wall and reached for the hook but stopped. Unable to countermine the droids’ specific instructions.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” Vela whispered.

“What? You can’t just unhook it? What does that even mean? What kind of rescue operation is this?” Padme shouted.

Vela was forced back a step by the ferocity of the Naboo.

“We didn’t know you were there. We were just looking for a Separatist cell. We… didn’t even know you had been captured.”

“You didn’t know? How is that possible?”

“I… I don’t know. Perhaps they are keeping it quiet? How long have you been captured?”

“Well, I don’t know. I didn’t have Holo in my room?” the senator said defensively. “But it felt like forever.”

The Jedi was still aghast but managed to stutter out some kind of response. “I…I’m Sorry.”

“Who else is on this trash heap? Are there any other republic forces?”

“It’s just me, our Zeltron agent Bellen and our astromech droid R3-JN…now,” Vela said sheepishly.

It didn’t seem like Padme noticed the last inflection and snapped back, “Jen is a droid? A droid’s in charge here? I guess the Zelton explains the… smell.”

It wasn’t the smell, at least not all of it. it was more the feelings she had been suffering since she awoke. Feelings that she kind of managed to isolate to being associated with that smell. The vaguest part of a scent that raised her heartrate, made her yearn to be touched. Just thinking about it started to get her hot again.

Padme caught the Jedi in a stern stare. “Oh, and did you mean to broadcast to the whole ship when you asked your droid Mistress to let you cum?”

Vela Samilon’s mouth dropped open. She staggered backwards as if she had been blasted by the force. Tears welled in her shining bright blue eyes as she looked back at the senator. Her face was a rictus of pain and betrayal.

Padme actually winced. This young heroic Jedi suddenly seemed so weak, so vulnerable.

Feeling herself starting to bawl, Vela quickly turned to leave.

“Wait!” called Padme. Her harmonious voice more of a worried request than a command.

However, she might as well have been barking commands like a Republic officer to Vela. She felt herself freeze up. Unable to move at all. It might as well have been R3 herself sending her controller droid programming. Clearly it was smart enough that even off handed comments by R3, such as ‘do anything that Padme required’, was binding.

“I’m sorry Vela. Come back here,” said Padme softly.

Forlornly Vela turned and slowly walked back, head hanging low. When she reached the Senator, Vela knelt on the ground head bowed.

“Oh,” said Padme. She was surprised by the sudden subservience.

Vela realised that she had not been ordered to do that. She didn’t know what to think about that.

“I’m sorry Vela,” said Padme. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I know you Jedi aren’t forbidden from such things as long as you…”

She paused searching for the worlds.

Vela broached, “Keep it cazh?”

Padme smiled. “As long as you keep it cazh,” she said chuckling at the colloquialism. “I didn’t even mean to overhear.”

“Thank you, my Queen,” replied Vela softly.

Padme was a little taken aback by that response. She had corrected Vela on her title before but this seemed like something else that she didn’t want to dwell on.

But she was a little excited by it.

“So, tell me brave Jedi what’s going on here?”

Though still acting completely submissive Vela raised her head. Her gemlike blue eyes made even more luminous by her tears. The yukata made the cleavage of her ample golden skin breasts seem near bottomless.

The senators own bright brown eyes shone as if they were illuminated internally.

“We had been tracking down some separatist forces that had been responsible for attacks to republic logistics behind our lines,” Vela said. Though she was subdued she told her story as if she was giving a report. “We had some leads that led us to Onga Pula in Hutt space. We expected it to be a hideout for a team for undercover separatists but what we found was far more unsettling. The disused mine was a front for an entire droid assembly plant. They were creating customised droids out of clone trooper armour, as you saw. Unfortunately, it was run by a Sith acolyte, an Umbran droid genius.”

Padme nodded in agreement having witnessed some of it herself.

“It seems that wasn’t her only research. With her droid’s assistance she… subdued me… and fitted this droid collar.”

Vela tipped back her head to display the thick gold collar constricting her neck.

“It is linked to a network of electrode cybernetics implanted in my brain and makes me do stuff… or stops me doing stuff. We can’t take it off without a special cipher rod, not without killing me. R3-JN rescued me but all she could do was change herself to be the controller, not release it. So, I have to do what she says now. The first thing she did was make me free her. They put Bellen in a binder droid that we can’t get off either, so R3 is in control of her too. We’re going to get some supplies from Tanbanta Dopa and then tomorrow we’re meeting up with a republic ship and then we’ll go and attack Onga Pula. Capture that Sith and get the cipher rod to get us out.”

“Well, that sounds pretty well planned at least,” Padme said, a little more upbeat. “What did the republic say about me?”

Vela stalled again before answering. “We didn’t mention you. We were worried that if the transmission is intercepted, they could be looking for mentions of you to help decrypt it. Also…” The Jedi paused again, unsure how to continue.

Padme pressed her on it, “Also?”

“Seeing as we weren’t told about your capture, we figured either they are keeping it secret for a reason or there might be Separatist spies in the republic that are working against you.”

Padme dropped her head in thought. “That… that sounds wise then,” she said. Clearly, she wasn’t entirely convinced.

“But that doesn’t answer the question about you,” Padme said. She stared at Vela as she did so.

“About me?” Vela replied. She took that as a personal attack.

“Yes Jedi. Tell me why you are being so weird,” Padme said.

Vela gaped like a fish but she was being forced to respond, “It’s just… I always had a crush on you, my Queen. Ever since the Battle of Naboo and you were all over the holo. I’d take every chance to watch anything about you. To collect information about you. While I was in the Jedi academy, I’d hide any pictures of you I could find. Growing up onboard ships going between mining colonies I’d never seen anyone as elegant, powerful or beautiful as you. Your skin was flawless peach, your features sharp and perfect, your dark tresses always perfectly styled and shining. You were everything I ever wanted to be, or be with. Now you are here you are more beautiful in real life than I could ever imagine. Even in a prison cell, or in this spare room on an old rustbucket shuttle you are like a goddess above it all.” Vela looked around in flushed panic at her embarrassment.

“Oh Vela,” Padme said. Her cheeks were a little red from the Jedi’s fawning. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. And I used to be a queen who would have to listen to lines of guests complimenting me.”

Vela was still looking around, desperately awkwardly. Padme was feeling sorry for the sweet Jedi and leaned over her almost hanging from the taught chains on her wrists.

“You’re very pretty yourself,” Padme said. “Your eyes are such brilliant blue. Your skin is a wonderful bronze colour that I wouldn’t believe until I saw it. Hair as black and shiny as obsidian. And that robe. That robe really shows off your… your… gorgeous assets.”

Vela was almost drawn up into the air towards the wonderful senator. She hovered inches from her face desperately waiting for Padme to say something equally delightful, to do something.

The corner of Padme’s mouth turned up in a half smirk. “Kiss me Jedi.”

Without thinking Vela rose and her plump lips connected with Padme’s own thirsty mouth.

Their mouths opened as Jedi and Royal tongues massaged each other. After all too long of their mouths exploring each other Padme pulled away smiling.

Vela was breathing heavily, having barely dared do so as they kissed. She was clearly a roiling turmoil of conflicting emotions.

“I knew it,” said Padme, stifling a laugh. “You have to do everything I say.”

“Err, maybe I just would have kissed you anyway,” Vela stammered.

“Ok, well then,” Padme said. “You won’t have a problem with me telling you to take your robe off.”

With her eyes wide Vela untied the wide silk belt around her waist letting it fall to the ground. Then that short robe dropped off her shoulders leaving her naked save for the wide gold collar and her thigh high socks. Vela’s hands raced to cover her breasts and crotch but she dropped her head in defeat.

Padme chuckled.

“What do you need of me my Queen,” Vela squeaked submissively.

Kneeling by the bed, Padme’s squirmed, and licked her lips gently. She was enjoying this far more than she should, but she was feeling for the girl.

“Well, if you can’t get me out of this you can at least come over here and give me a massage,” said Padme.

Vela stood; her hands trembled as she cautiously moved towards Padme’s soft flesh. Still naked she knelt on the bed and started to rub the senator’s shoulders.

Padme mewed with pleasure as the Jedi’s strong hands worked the knots out of the Senator’s tired muscles.

Boyed by the positive response Vela continued with more gusto. Kneading and stroking those bound arms.

Padme responded with deep breaths; eyes closed.

Vela licked her lips as hand’s played over that soft royal flesh. She was enjoying this every bit as much as Padme was.

As the Jedi’s hands caressed Vela’s flanks from behind Padme squirmed and moaned.

The response made Vela stop briefly.

“More to the front,” Padme whispered.

The Jedi, being unable to resist… and probably unwilling to, pressed her chest against Padme’s back and shoulder while her hand stroked that tight, naked belly.

Padme sighed at the touch. Eyes still closed, she turned her head and whispered directly into Vela’s ear, “Higher.”

Vela’s eyes went wide as her hand’s drifted upwards. Padme could mean only one thing. Soon the Jedi’s hands were cupping the senator’s ample, supple, latex covered breasts.

Even as Padme squealed and bit her lip Vela did not stop squeezing that bosom.

Red faced, Padme turned to her masseuse. Their eyes met, faces nearly touching. The Jedi’s bright blues locked with those bright brown eyes.

They looked deep into each other for a good while before Padme leaned further around and kissed the Jedi deeply. As lips and tongues pressed against each other’s, Vela continued to press on Padme’s yielding breasts through that stretchy, squeaky rubber.

Padme broke away.

“Do you still have a crush on me Vela?” Padme said.

Suddenly there was a surety in Vela’s eye’s as she replied, “Yes my Queen. Always.”

“Then pull up my top,” commanded Padme.

Vela pulled on the stretchy white material and the senator’s luscious pale breasts bounced free. The jedi looked at the healthy pair hungrily. She stared for too long before looking up at Padme’s smiling face nervously. That smile dispelled, really all thoughts let alone Vela’s fears. That smile, that a whole planet selected as their queen, that led a world and a senate.

“What are you waiting for Vela.” Padme’s face adopted a devilish look.

Vela’s mouth slowly opened. It seemed that she was hoping that by the time she had her mouth fully open she would know what to say.

“Get licking!” Padme commanded sternly.

Bowing slowly, Vela extended her tongue. Saliva collected on its pink tip. She looked up at Padme one last time, her tongue millimetres from that pert pink nipple. Expecting to see Padme, laugh or stop her in some way. Padme’s expression didn’t change, she waited expectantly.

Seeing no sign against, Vela gently placed her tongue against the bottom of Padme’s areola and licked upwards. The erect nipple bent and stretched under the pressure. It bounced back scattering spit in its wake.

Padme moaned and bit her lip.

Vela gladly attacked the senator’s other nipple. She licked and sucked on it while teasing the other with her fingers.

Padme squeaked, trying to hold moans inside. Her head rose towards the ceiling in stilted movements. The pleasure forcing her to tense up stetch it out.

“Vela!” Padme said, looking down at the jedi’s upturned eyes. Eye’s that shone like aquamarines in the stark lighting.

“Pull my pants down,” said Padme.

Vela squatted in front of the senator pulling on the waistband of those latex pants. They squeaked and snapped over those pert, round buttocks. Vela wiggled them down around her ankles.

Caressing her thighs, Vela moved towards Padme’s crotch.

“Uh uh,” said Padme. “Lie on the bed. Head over here.”

Vela carefully rose till she was sitting on the bed.

The still bound Padme shuffled backwards a little.

After lying back Vela took a deep breath and looked back up at Padme. She seemed perfect, even in this messy, tiny, spare cabin. To the Jedi, the senator looming over her seemed natural, correct.

Padme shuffled around, rose slightly and squatted on Vela’s face. She pitched forward and lay down on Padme’s chest. As the senator pressed into the Jedi’s sex their breasts squeezed against each other.

When Vela felt the wet warmth of Padme’s tongue explore her most sensitive parts she shuddered with excitement. As the shiver travelled through her body, she shook against Padme’s delightfully. She could scant believe her luck, this seemed like a dream.

Dream or not, she knew what she had to do.

Vela’s tongue probed that woman’s tender sex. While she was not experienced, she lapped with newfound zeal. They felt each other’s heartbeats get faster, there pussies getting hotter, more swollen, wetter.

They happily licked each other, reciprocating the waves of pleasure they received from their lover.

Vela tensed, heart trying to break out of her chest. She leaned back, panted and said. “My.. my Queen. May I cum?”

“No,” said Padme. “I need more.”

Vela was becoming seriously worried, what if Padme couldn’t command her to cum? Would she need to call R3 on the intercom again? She might die from embarrassment!

Despite her curt tone, Padme changed to lightly kissing around the Jedi’s vulva.

Vela knew she didn’t want to ruin this. Her tongue explored deeper, faster.”

Vela felt like she could sense Padme getting closer and concentrated on what she thought was the most sensitive spots.

She seemed to be proven correct when Padme directed her tongue back to Vela’s own clitoris.

They both seemed to be becoming intolerably hot and wet.

Padme called out between pants, “Vela. You may cum now.”

Both women screamed in unison as they climaxed together.

Still breathing heavily Vela bench pressed Padme onto her knees.

There Padme sagged, head and shoulders moving with her laboured breaths. Her shackles still stopping her moving from that near hogtied position.

Vela sat up, her breath recovering quickly but she still felt spent. She looked at the floor, unsure what to do.

Padme looked at Vela. “Vela, come over here.”

Vela shuffled closer to the senator.

Padme leant over resting her head against Vela’s shoulder and breast.

Vela put her arms around Padme and held her tightly, and smiled.

****

R3’s dome turned around from her recumbent position, it’s main sensor directed to Vela, partially blocked by the soft bedding it was lying on.

Vela shivered in the corner of the room. She hugged her knees close to her breasts as she sat in the R3 designated charging point.

A series of beeps boops and whirs emitted from R3-JN.

The Intercom on the wall automatically translated in a monotone voice. “I don’t know what you see in these beds. I’m not seeing the benefit.”

“Well. They aren’t designed for droids.” Padme pouted.

“Beep, bewooo, beep, beep, whir,” said R3.

“Ok, well swap back then. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t keeping something else from me,” said the intercom.

Vela stood, pausing only to pull a charging cable out of her vagina. “I thought that thing was going to kill me,” said Vela.

The Jedi lifted R3 to its feet before crawling into bed.

“Beep, boop, boop, bawooo, beep,” said R3 as it moved to the charging point.

“That was unlikely, unless your hole suddenly became many times wetter,” said the box on the wall.

Vela blushed and hid herself under the blankets.

Chapter 11: Shore Leave

Allegiances

An erotic, Lesbian, BDSM, Star Wars fan story

By Over_Run_666

Chapter 11 – Shore Leave

Vela Samilon stepped off the shuttles rear ramp and looked around. The dimness of the planets light led her to think they had landed at night. It wasn’t till she looked to the sky and saw that the very large star was the distant, cold sun. She tried cover her near nakedness, not for the cold, the underfloor heating on the landing pad proved ample if uneven comfort. It was her shame at the pasties, and strips of cloth that they cobbled together into a slave outfit and put on her.

R3 beeped and booped as it rolled past Vela. The chain leading from one of R3’s panels to Vela’s collar became taut and dragged her onwards.

In the back of the bay. The still chained Padme replied. “Don’t tell her that!”

“You heard Mistress,” said BD-3081 “I’m in charge now.” She ushered the hobbled senator towards her room as the ramp closed.

Bellen Eshtan looked over the ram shackled main star port of planet Tanbanta Dopa. It’s lights and visible, steaming, heat standing out from freezing dark rocks of the rest of the planet. “You girls stay close, Unaga Reeva is a hive of scum and… criminality,” she settled for. Not entirely happy with that turn of phrase.

Her robotic voice had been modulated to a lower and more robotic one. She was already settling into her adopted role of bounty hunter. The simple addition of goggles and a dark hooded-poncho made her look like a rather mean cyborg.

R3 beeped and whirred. Vela looked at Bellen expectantly.

Bellen tutted. “The shopping list slave,” she said. Clearly getting too into her disguise. But disguises were an agent’s stock and trade so it was hard to take it personally.

“Oh right,” said Vela “Ceram cutters, vibro-sword, new robe, clothes, droid controller, err, toys, err, a pistol.”

“Right,” said Bellen. More seriously now. “Now stay in character.”

As if to illustrate she pushed Vela in the shoulder with the butt of her droid blaster.

Vela tried to look the part of the put-upon captive, just not particularly well. She didn’t harbour any animosity towards Bell. In truth she was more impressed that Bellen was getting so good at walking in those hideous tip-toe boots.

Now that they were inside the town. Various locals, miners, traders and potential criminals watched them from alleys, windows and store fronts.

Eventually they came to an open store front with a green Toydarian floating behind the counter.

“Welcome to Yanko’s hardware travellers,” said the Toydarian. Who was surprisingly upbeat.

Bellen stood at the entrance cradling her gun. How she imagined some underworld guard would.

“Err,” said Vela. She was still trying to cover her modesty. “We… we need ceram cutters and a RJL 4000.”

“Oh ho,” said Yanko, “Is that droid getting a bit uppity for your master then.” He gestured towards R3-JN.

R3 bounced from foot to foot while whiring and booping.

“No actually,” said Vela in flat robotic tone. “I’m the one that’s been getting too big for my boots.” Vela felt herself flushing as she was forced to speak. “I’ll take some tat ink, magnacuffs, and a size 34 SCL.”

“Ho ho,” said Yanko. “Whatever you want.”

****

Grumbling Vela dropped their purchases on a chair in the lounge and went into the cockpit.

R3, with a small bag in a pincer like claw rolled into their tiny medical room.

Bellen pulled off her poncho sat heavily and put her feet up on the lounge table with a sigh.

A door opened at the back of the ship and BD-3081 emerged and edged slowly towards the lounge.

Soon afterwards a still bound Padme emerged from the same door and shuffled after them.

BD-3081 approached Bellen. “Would you like a refreshment,” she said.

“Yes please,” replied Bell.

The ship shook as the engines ignited.

3081 braced herself.

Padme, just entering the room was taken by surprise. With her ankles still chained together she was unable to move enough to balance herself and slid over backwards.

Bellen dove across the sofa just catching Padme and pulling her onto the sofa.

“Woah there, Senator,” said Bellen.

Padme removed herself from Bellen’s hands, sitting on the sofa demurely. “Thank You. I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

“Not with both of us conscious,” said Bellen. She offered a rubber mitted hand. “The names Bellen Eshtan.”

“Ah,” said Padme. Rattling her shackles behind her back in demonstration of the problem.

Just as Bellen started retracting her hand in defeat Padme turned almost all the way round stretching her hand as far as possible.
Bellen grabbed it and shook heartily.

“Senator Padme Amidala,” she said looking over her shoulder. She became aware that she was offering her latex pantsed ass as much as her hand.

Sensing that, Bellen let go and brushed her hair from in front of her face.

“Did you get anything interesting?” said Padme. Changing the subject.

She leaned over to look in the bag, blushing red then sitting up straight.

Either Bellen didn’t notice her reaction or expected and ignored it.

Instead, the agent dragged the large bag over and after a while of shuffling through it retracked a small l shaped device.

“Come over here,” said Bellen aggressively. She pulled on the attached to Padme’s wrists and ankles. She started to move nervously, shuffling backwards. But by the time Padme landed on Bellen’s lap she was chuckling.

The senator twisted around. Bellen’s face was right next to hers, even with half her face covered by that droid her purple eyes were charming.

“She did a number on you Bellen,” said Padme. Her hand played over the metal corset around Bellen’s belly.

“Yeah,” said Bellen defeatedly. She held the device up. “A plasma cutter. I can get these chains off. But we should probably wait until we see if we can find the cipher rod to take off your shackles.”

“Wise,” said Padme turning around.

Bellen, reached up and pulled the goggles down over her eyes. “Turn around, it’s gonna get bright.”

The intense plasma jet formed a tear drop shape. Bellen began cutting through those chains.

****

Vela looked over her shoulder at the mirror. Her exposed buttock red around her new tattoo. Written boldly in large pink, technical font letters, ‘PROPERTY OF R3-JN.’

Frowning she pressed the soft dyed flesh and winced.

The door opened and Bellen rushed, as much as her ballet boots allowed up to Vela. The agent turned putting her tight ass side by side with Vela’s own round cheeks.

Though Bellen’s mouth was covered by her droid, her eyes seemed happy. She seemed to be showing off her new ink.

Vela frowned again. “Did R3 make you do that.”

“No, no,” said Bellen shaking her hands defensively.

Shaking her head Vela sighed. She thought this was the case. “Why would you do this to your beautiful butt Bell?”

Bellen looked Vela in the eyes seriously. “This doesn’t have to be forever. I could get rid of this eventually. I’m having fun with my little robot mistress… and with you. I don’t ever want to forget you heroically rescuing me.”

Vela suspected that Bellen had got her own tattoo to make her feel better about her own tattoo. Though the agent wouldn’t say it of course. But she was ultimately thoughtful.

“Besides,” said Bellen. Getting a little coy. “I really would like a reminder of that time I was with the bravest, strongest, most beautiful Jedi in the whole academy.”

Bellen looked back at Vela with those wide amethyst eyes.

Vela looked back, her frustrated expression falling away. How could she not when faced with that?

The agent leaned in. Vela didn’t move.

As metal and plastic droid face mask met with Vela’s lips Bellen went red and started to pull away.

Vela grabbed Bellen’s face, pressing a glowing button.

Bellen’s mouth was forced open into a circle by the droid. Vela kissed her robot lips, the girls’ tongues caressed each other.

****

Vela was at the console in her room… in R3’s room, as the door slid open.

The console continued to let out a stream of astromech noises until she shut it off.

R3-JN rolled into the room.

There was something about the droid. It seemed more pleased with itself than usual.

Vela found herself standing up. She extended her hands in front of her.

Apparently, the droid didn’t need to issue her commands audible any longer.

Vela sighed, and she was just learning what commands she was being given.

With one manipulator clamp R3 turned and dragged a small bag in front of her. Then she extracted a pair of magnacuffs.

Without her needing to be told Vela’s body took the cuffs and locked them around her wrists. She moved with precision and swiftness, like a machine.

She held her hands outstretched in front of her, turning her head away from the brightness of R3’s welding torch.

Vela realised that the droid was welding the locking mechanism.

 “Is this really necessary mistress?” Vela whined impotently.

“I believe it is,” said the wall intercom.

It took vela a little while to work out that with her new wireless control unit R3 no longer needed to tell the ships computer to translate.

Vela didn’t bother to complain as another pair of magnacuffs were locked around her ankles and welded shut.

The jedi bounced in place for a while. The droid, somehow, seemed to be enjoying Vela’s struggles, with her wrists and ankles locked together. The Jedi stopped trying to move and stood there petulantly.

Seemingly having her fun ruined R3 turned off the magnetic lock on both sets of magnacuffs releasing Vela.

R3 then made Vela move down and pick up another thing from the bag.

It was a collection of curved bands of metal that Vela didn’t recognise.

But her body was being directed what to do.

Her hands bought the thickest band down to her crotch. There was a thick metal rod on the back of that plate that she pushed into herself. It made vela draw breath until it was far enough in that the mouth of her vagina was able close around the narrow part that met the front shield. Giving her some much-needed relief. Quickly she closed the curved bands around her waist meeting the wider shield at the front. It locked with a loud click.

It was a sturdy chastity belt with a round scomp lock on the front.

“Really mistress?” said Vela weakly. Her eyes starting to mist up.

R3 didn’t feel the need to answer that.

“Now put on the rest of the items in the bag,” the wall commanded.

Vela crouched down, visibly defeated. She pulled clothes out of the bag with a sigh.

It didn’t take long to put on the pink and gold metal hut slave style bikini top and loin cloth.

Vela’s head lolled to the side as she held her hands out as if to say, happy now?

“Quite appropriate,” said the intercom.

“Harumph,” said Vela. She flounced out the door in a huff. Clearly, she half expected to be stopped from leaving.

The whole crew looked towards her as she arrived in the lounge causing her face to flush red.

“Woah,” said Bellen. “You look great.”

Vela noticed that Padme was dressed in a matching slave outfit. Hers was equipped with a veil; it didn’t hide her blushing.

Vela shuffled across the room. “You look pretty in yours Senator Amidala.”

Amidala looked down at herself. “R3 thought it would make a good disguise,” she said.

“I bet she did,” said Vela knowingly.

After sitting on the sofa next to Padme, the senator shuffled closer to Vela. Her bare flanks just touching Vela’s own.

Vela cursed the metal belt sealing away her sex.

****

The door to R3’s room opened and Bellen entered with a box.

R3 booped as Bellen knelt next her.

“Oh, I just noticed it had been a while since you been cleaned mistress,” answered Bellen. She opened the box and started to take out a spray and a brush.

“That is quite thoughtful Bellen,*” said R3. R3, returned to turning her scomp in the wall connection.

Bellen began brushing, spraying and sponging R3-JN’s chassis.

“I’m sure you could do with a proper oil bath but I guess that will have to wait,” said Bell.

“Indeed. When this is over that will be the first thing I do,*” beeped R3.

“Mistress?” Bellen broached. Clearly, finally getting to the real reason for her visit. “Do you think you might be being a little harsh to Vela.”

R3’s main sensor turned to Bellen. “I do think I know what I am doing. If I wore clothes I am sure she would have done the same with me.*”

It just so happened that at point Bellen was cleaning the part of R3’s chassis that had ‘Property of Vela Samilon’ scratched into it. Bell ran her thumb over it. “I’m sure I don’t know what it’s like Mistress. I mean, I had the talk from my mom, like all Zeltron girls did. But I’ve been lucky enough to avoid been enslaved. I guess until now… But you were made for it, we don’t even think about you droids for the most part.”

Bellen’s head dropped, clearly sad.

R3’s disconnected from the wall and rolled closer to Bellen. “Sorry Bellen. Don’t worry. We will get you out of that thing soon. I am sure of it. I will look after you till then,*” she said.

“What about Vela?” said Bellen.

“I will string her along for a while longer yet. Believe it or not, I’m doing this for her own good. I am a bit worried that there’s a hidden master control in that droid that I haven’t noticed. Especially with that sith woman’s cybernetic droid controller. Without getting into the circuits, I won’t know. The magnacuffs are all mine though and they give us a failsafe,*” said R3-JN.

“Well, that makes sense I suppose. What about me? Do you need to weld some extra cuffs to me?” said Bell.

“Oh, Bellen, I don’t see that being a danger. If I lose control of you, then you won’t cut one of us in half. You’re mostly a danger to yourself. Like when we hit that override trap on the way out of the separatist base. I’m pretty confident I got that little problem ironed out at least.*” said Jen.

“And what about that chastity belt,” said Bellen.

“Has she been showing that off, has she?*” said R3.

“No, no,” said Bellen defensively. “I noticed.”

“I bet you did,*” said the droid.

Bellen chuckled and looked down. The pink skin of her face going more red.

“If someone does hack her droid that thing will give us a bit of time to get her back. Additionally, she’s pretty vulnerable right now. I’m a bit worried that she’ll make some mistakes she’ll regret later,*” said R3.

Bellen sat there, looking at the floor. Going so red it seemed she might burst into flame.

“I’m detecting elevated blood pressure and temperature from you. Are you feeling OK,*” said R3.

Bellen looked up, her eyes were starting to well with tears.

“You seem to be mistaken Bellen. I’m sure she does not consider you a mistake. My sensors seemed to read her body giving off signals that indicated she was being sincere in her affection for you,*” said R3.

Bellen wiped her eyes and smiled. “You silver tongued droid.”

“I do not have a tongue Bellen. And silver is not the optimal material for my vocaliser,*” said R3.

Bellen smirked. “Wait a second,” she said, leaning into the box. She came back out with a small pen like object. She shook it up and pressed a button that extended a nib. She leaned around the droid and wrote over the engraved words. Soon they were completely erased.

“There,” said Bellen. “Good as new.”

R3 rolled back and span in place until she was looking at the touched-up panel in the mirror.

“A vast improvement. Thank you,*” said R3.

Bellen smiled. It looked for a second as if she was about to say something but her head fell down and her expression became introspective.

R3’s main sensor turned to her.

“I’m detecting another change in your physiology. It indicates you are distressed, requiring answers that you maybe too hesitant to ask,*” said the droid.

“You’re too smart Jen. No wonder you couldn’t stand being owned,” said Bellen. She was suddenly aware of the quantity of information this binder droid recorded that R3 had access too.

“That indicates I was correct. What question do you have to ask?*” said R3

Bellen took a deep breath. “I don’t know if you can understand Jen. But I have needs. I was very happy that Vela was tending to those needs,” she said.

“I understand Bellen,*” said the droid. She rolled back to be close to Bellen. “I can’t say that I can ‘feel’ in the same way you do. But I do, in my own way, feel for you girls. With my new interface I can detect the changes in your body, perhaps better than yourself.*”

Bellen’s hands covered her body subconsciously. To think this droid was monitoring her most personal functions. It was shameful, it was…

“I’m detecting elevated heat and moisture levels around your genitals.*”

Her mouth dropped open, Bellen’s face went bright red and her head bowed, those rubber mits covered her crotch, entirely in vain.

“Those level’s are rising further,*” teased the droid. “I believe this would increase your arousal even more so.*”

Bellen felt her legs lock tightly to her thighs.

Her hands locked into those ball like mits. Sharp shocks to her muscles and the binder droid’s own motivators, moved them behind her back in jerky motions. There, her wrists clamped together with powerful magnets, high on her back. Her whole arms were locked in the reverse prayer position.

“Detecting highly elevated arousal,*” said Jen dryly. “Would you like me to bring you to orgasm?*”

“Yes, yes please Mistress,” said Bellen. Her robot voice quiet from her shame.

“I could just have that binder droid make you orgasm. I could do that at any time now,*” said R3.

“Levels of arousal elevating again. But I believe that would be so impersonal.*”

Bellen felt a small change in her binder droid’s mask. She recognised it as her losing the ability to speak.

R3-JN extended her scomp and gently pushed Bellen, sending her falling backwards. The Zeltron felt pressure squeeze her breasts under that tight metal breastplate. Felt vibrations against her nipples begin.

Then there was both a stretching of her pussy and a coldness that Bellen recognised as her crotch plate being opened. Her legs were forced further apart and clamps on her labia made her gape open. She looked up, between her legs, as much as she could move with that stiff collar.

Jen positioned herself between Bell’s legs. A tool slot next to her vents opened and a large rubber coated, pink, dildo emerged.

Bellen remembered that being purchased but couldn’t guess what for at the time.

Jen leaned forwards and pushed into it Bellen’s waiting vagina. It was maneuverered until the smaller side branch pressed against Bellen’s clitoris.

R3 began its vibration function gently, moving in and out rhythmically, changing the angle of attack due to… heaven knows what feedback data.

Bellen was helpless there. R3-JN now had almost complete power over her, and it turned her on like nothing else. To be trapped and fucked by that completely in-human geometric droid. It was totally shameful and utterly amazing. The pleasure was being bought out of her with an attention to detail that no one else can manage. It was a world away from the multiple rough orgasms pumped out of her by that binder when it was in control.

Bell closed her eyes. In her mind it was that sweet Jedi that was fucking her passionately with a strap-on.

It felt to Bell like she would explode at any minute. She knew that Jen was stopping her from cumming. Edging her, teasing her, drawing it out. She wanted to shout, to demand release, to grab that dildo herself. But this damn binder droid was wholly preventing anything like that. It was a perfect double team.

Just when she thought she might lose her mind if it went on any longer, she felt that R3 press home hard and turn the vibrations up.

Bellens body shook as massive a orgasm spread throughout it. She sprayed R3 liberally with her love as she strained against her unbreakable bonds. Her massive scream reduced to a muffled whimper by her robotic gag.

Falling back, completely spent, Bellen was just glad that R3 was merciful and stopped the vibrations, withdrew that dildo and called off her binder’s functions. She felt her limbs unlock but could do nothing yet except lie back on her arms in a slightly more comfortable position.

As quickly as she could, Bellen pushed herself into a seated position.

“Thank you, mistress,” Bellen said. She was still pretty quiet.

Reaching across the agent picked up a sponge and wiped down R3’s dildo and chassis. “Don’t want to ruin my work earlier.”

“That is very thoughtful of you Bellen. You are a the best.*” said R3. That kind of hyperbole was rare from a droid so it meant a lot.

As R3 retracted its vibrator, Bellen was left kneeling in front of her. The agent was lost in thought, R3 now had complete control over her, breathing, moving, orgasms. The implications of what had been a cute game with her droid friend was dawning on her now. And she was left not quite sure how to treat R3 now.

As the binder droid betrayed her thoughts by reporting her most minute changes in biology R3 calculated that she had to do something. “Why don’t you go take some time for yourself? You have been through a lot and working hard since we got back.*” she said.

“Yes mistress,” said Bell. She rose to her feet, turned and left the room.

*Translated from Astromech.

****

Vela took off her slave outfit, placing it in the draw by her bunk. She couldn’t help but frown as she saw herself in the mirror. Completely undressed now, her in that dreaded wide collar, her matching mag ankle and wrist cuffs, and the gleaming metal of the chastity belt sealing away her sex.

She rubbed her hand over the thick metal of the shield on her pussy. A quick pull moved her more than it did the belt. While that thing inside her certainly made itself known there was no way she could move it to give herself any type of sensation.

Groaning she turned away from her reflection. She had only now re-acquainted herself with her sexuality and the merciless droid had stolen that away from her.

That droid had stolen her away.

As if summoned by her ill-intensions the door swooshed open and in rolled R3-JN.

“Time for a recharge cycle,” said the wall intercom that spoke for the droid.

Rolling over to the wall and plugging herself in she turned her lens to the frowning Jedi.

Suddenly Vela felt a charge in her cuffs and abruptly her ankles were locked tightly together. Then her hands moved behind her back and clamped together fast.

Vela looked at R3 with a snarl. “Damn you Jen. What is this for now?”

The wall answered impassively. “Just keeping you secure while you sleep.”

Even in that monotone robot voice Vela could detect a hint of humour from the droid.

Not wanting to give her the satisfaction Vela hopped over to the bed. Her breasts bouncing along the way in time with her hops. She pulled the covers up with her hands that were locked together behind her butt. With a flourish, and by turning her whole body she managed to cover herself.

Under the blanket she tugged vainly against her bonds again. She felt herself becoming aroused as she did so. The metal sealing her away becoming colder as it became damper. She became even more frustrated, with herself as much as her droid owner.

Chapter 12: Night Caller

Allegiances

An erotic, Lesbian, BDSM, Star Wars fan story

By Over_Run_666

Chapter 12 – Night Caller

The door to Vela and R3’s room slid open slowly and quietly.

Padme Amidala entered carefully, a blaster in her right hand, small disc like device in her other.

Vela awoke and span around just as Padme attached the EM Pulser to R3’s front.

Immediately a massive electrical shock ran over the droid. With a garbled screech from overloaded, vocalisers and actuators the droid stopped moving, smoking.

With dead eyes, almost robotically, Padme swung the blaster towards Vela.

With her desired leap across the room stymied by the magnacuffs around her wrists and ankles all Vela could do was blurt out a plea. “Padme why?”

Before she had even finished, a circular stun bolt shot towards Vela.

It struck a drifting blanket as went past Vela who was crouching on the end of the bed.

With no acknowledgement of the question Padme fired again immediately.

A swift, and near impossible, doubled footed jump sent Vela into the air. The stun bolt passed below sparkling against the wall behind her.

Vela twisted in the air, going horizontal. She was already focusing the force as she jumped.

In the cockpit the emergency stop button depressed.

Vela landed on the front wall, squatting, the breaking force pushing her against the wall.

Padme flies across the room into the wall smashing against it with considerable force.

After the ship stopped, a second later, Vela gracefully flipped onto the floor.

Quickly the blaster flew into Vela’s hands that were clamped together behind her butt.

Without even looking Vela shot a stun bolt into the concussed Padme.

Looking at the unconscious Padme and the overloaded R3, considering her own bondage, all Vela could do was hop slowly out of the Room.

She hopped down the hall, bare breasts bouncing along as she moved. Coming to Bellen’s room Vela sighed and dropped the blaster. After turning around, she jumped in the air slapping the open button.

When the door swished open Bellen Eshtan was on her bed face down. Legs locked together; heels firmly held against her pert ass.

Her hands were locked in solid metal mitts. Wrists and elbows locked together, hands resting on the top of her ass between her toes.

Red lights all over her binder droid indicated each of the great many maglocks applied.

She was faced down on the mattress and moving only in response in the electric shocks that wracked her body.

Vela turned around, pressing any button she could find. Slowly at first due to her difficult position she unlocked wrists, gloves, ankles, thighs and elbows.

Bellen didn’t respond to her new found freedom as Vela fumbled to turn those red lights green.

Stopping for a second Vela breathed in deeply focusing.

Then her hands unerringly finding red buttons even under woman. Especially on her front where most of the functions were set.

She turned the limp woman over on the bed, still now that electric shocks were not systematically rocking her body. Now that clamps were not squeezing and twisting her flesh. Now that strong vibrations and pumping dildos were not rocking her orifices.

Bellen lay still and quiet, having been deprived of oxygen for who knows how long.

Vela turned and pressed one green light, it turning red as Bell’s mouth opened wide. Putting her lips over Bells open mouth she inflated Bellen’s chest.

Slowly, shaking, Bellen’s hand raised to put a rubber cloved mitt on Vela’s back.

Vela straightened up looking at it in surprise and smiled with tears in her eyes.

“Vela,” Bellen said. Her robotic voice quiet, matching her weak condition.

****

Padme’s eyes opened slowly, groggily. She scanned the tiny medical room. The wall mounted medical droid beeped out an audio representation of her vitals.

There was barely room for Bellen and Vela in there and the astromech periscope indicated R3 was there too.

They looked at her with strange, concerned expressions.

“What’s wrong with my head,” said Padme. “It feels like I’m still half asleep. Like I’m not completely in control of myself.”

She was beginning to worry before she tried to move her hand which was stopped by a cable attached to a cuff around her wrist.

“What?” said Padme. Confused and obviously scared. “What’s happening?”

She looked at the even more worried faces that shuffled nervously.

One of those shuffles revealed a mirror on the far wall. Looking at her reflection she could see the restraining bolt on her temple.

Her desperate looking eyes turned to Vela.

“YOU AREN’T HUMAN!” Vela blurted out. She leaned in closer and repeated. “You aren’t human. You are an advanced Human replica droid. An HRD. We think you were created by Dassor to infiltrate the Senate.”

Tears welled in the Padme droid’s eyes as she starred at her reflection. She was devastated but it felt like there was only so sad she could get, as if the extremes of her emotions were locked away from her. “That’s not possible. That can’t be possible. This has to be some kind of Joke,” she said.

“You attacked us last night. You nearly killed Bellen,” said Vela.

Padme’s mouth dropped open, her eyes dashed between Vela and Bellen. Their looks just confirmed the situation. “I’m sorry… I didn’t.”

“We know Pad… we know. You were programmed to not know yourself,” said Vela. “You can pass for human on all but the deepest scan. Which we had to do when we subdued you after you attacked us. We thought maybe there was a wholly internal version of this.” Vela pointed at her collar.

Padme’s mouth opened and closed; she couldn’t even begin to think about what to say.

R3 beeped, whirred and whistled.

“She says she has found a way to reprogram you,” said Bellen. “You should be safe from any murderous tendencies now. At least with that restraining bolt. Of course, you’ll be under R3’s control.”

The door opened and R3 rolled out.

“You can’t just tell her that Mistress,” said Vela. The Jedi grabbed Padme’s hand with one, patting it with the other. “It’ll be alright, we’ll look after you.”

“But.. how… how am I supposed to go on? I had a job, family, friends.”

Bellen stopped in the doorway and half turned back. “No. No you didn’t. That’s someone else’s memory. You’ll go on because it’s in your programming.”

****

In her cabin Vela looked at herself in the mirror. The scarf on top of her old tatty robe just about hid her numerous points of shame. With her left hand she part drew the vibrosword on her waist. She sighed, “This is embarrassing. Showing up without a sabre.”

“I think you look pretty dangerous with that sword and pistol on your belt,” said Padme.

Vela turned to see the human replica droid in the doorway. She had begun to talk as soon as realised someone had entered the doorway.

Droid Padme stood there in the doorway with slave outfit and a veil. The clothing did nothing to hide the property of R3-JN tattoo on her butt cheek. This time it was pretty much agreed that is was a useful method of identifying their Padme.

 but it was obvious how depressed she still was. She was holding a hot drink on tray in front of her.

“Thank you, Padme,” said Vela. Taking the drink and putting it on the table.

“Please, don’t call me that. It is inappropriate” said the human replica droid sadly. “My designation is HRD8032.”

In spite of what happened in the night. It hurt Vela to see her so depressed, but it was to be expected. The Jedi moved over and took her by the now free hand.

“You’ll always be my Queen to me,” Vela said.

HRD8032 looked up at Vela. “My droid protocols prevent me from…”

Those protocols that R3 had initiated were a brutal reminder of the reality of the situation.

“Screw those protocols,” snapped Vela. “I don’t care what your designation is.”

There was passion in her eyes as she stared into HRD8032’s own. “You might not be the person you thought you were but you are still a unique masterpiece.

HRD8032 smiled for the first time since she found out what she really was.

The intercom beeped and they both turned to it.

“We’re approaching the republic ship. Take landing positions.

The forcefield pulsed as the GX-1 shuttle passed through it into the large and busy hanger bay of the Venator 1 star destroyer.

It landed carefully and quickly a small force of Clone troopers advanced on the craft as the rear door opened.

Standing in the bay, was Vela with R3 behind her.

The clones stood to attention and saluted as they disembarked.

“Welcome aboard,” said a clone with his helmet under his arm and red accents on his armour. “Welcome aboard General Samilon. I’m captain Liam.”

They started to march towards the main door to the rest of the ship.

“Thank you Captain,” said Vela. “How are preparations going.”

“We’re all ready to go when you are. We were told you might need some supplies,” said Liam.

“Yes. I did lose some… stuff in the scuffle.” Said Vela. She was trying her hardest not to be embarrassed.

“We’ll well certainly be able to get you a robe and armour,” said the captain. Vela was disappointed it was so obvious but didn’t detect any judgement from the captain.

“And of course…” Continued the captain, stopping in his tracks. He gestured to the other half of the hanger where a triangular, blue and white starfighter stood. “We have a Delta-7 Interceptor for you.”

Vela beamed in excitement.

R3-JN shook on the spot, booping and beeping.

Liam laughed in response. “Alright, alright. We’ll get that data out of your so you can go flying.”

He, and several of the troops laughed as they left through the main doors into the body of the ship.

Three clone guards were left, guarding the shuttle as droids attached re-fuelling pipes.

With the rear ramp still down, they could easily see the door into the rest of the ship slide open. The luxury droid BD-3081 appeared with a tray of three hot drinks on it.

“Would you gentlemen like some refreshment?” said 3081. She trotted over with her short droid steps. “I’m sure you brave soldiers have been working hard.”

“You bet we have,” said the first trooper taking off his helmet and grabbing a cup.

The other two looked around nervously. Their hesitance lasted right up until the first one had finished taking a big glug of hot Tarine tea.

“Oh, that’s the good stuff,” he said.

The other two quickly followed taking off their helmets and grabbing a mug each.

Sounds of approval from both of them followed.

“You’re quite the pricey looking droid for a ship like this aren’t you,” said the first trooper, in between drinks.

 “Thank you,” replied the droid. “My designation is BD-3081, though my previous owner called me Bett if you prefer. I understand that my transfer to my current owner was rather unconventional.”

The clones were still eyeing her up as they drank. “You certainly are put together well. I like mine a bit more robust than most of these scrawny models,” the third clone said. Laughing after he did so.

“I am here to assist with ANYTHING you require,” said Bett.

The heavy inflection on the word was part of her programming. The clone noticed and began to chuckle. “Anything?”

“Anything,” confirm 3081. She lifted the skirt of her maid like dress to reveal her lifelike rubber pussy.

“Woah,” said the second trooper. “So you’ll like..?”

“Absolutely,” affirmed Bett. She took the empty mug off him putting it on her tray. “Please follow me. As she put it down on the work bench along the back wall, she looked back at the others. “I’m sure I can accommodate you all if you require.”

The other two clones looked at each for a second. Bett turned back and opened the door into the ship’s interior. The two clones rushed after her putting their mugs on the tray.

Bett led them into a vacant room and took off her maid’s dress. She folded it neatly and placed it on the side. Quickly she took off each of the men’s armour and stashed it away with equal care.

They stood slightly nervously until Bett beckoned them closer.

****

The prisoner felt a shock in her face as her mouth was opened wide and locked that way. Despite her sensory deprivation she knew what was about to happen and her sex wept at the promise.

She had no idea how long she had been trapped in this skin tight metal prison, acting as merely the muscle to move this soulless droid. Unable to see, to speak, to hear all but the most muffled and indistinct sounds. She had no way of knowing what was going on other than where the electro shocks that moved her muscles took her.

The only thing that broke the monotony was when her droid captor gave her body to someone, or something and she had learned to covet these times.

As she felt the electrical pulses make her squat and open her legs.

Her cunt gushed with anticipation. She soon felt a member enter her, fill her. On the other side of that rubber coating.

Not long afterwards a penis was pushed into her mouth. As it stretched the rubber of her oral cavity down her throat she gagged. But the heavy collar of her prison locked tight and the internal gag silenced any sound. The prisoner gagged imperceptibly to the person whose long cock was pushed down her throat.

Then, and to her surprise, she felt her cheeks pulled apart and another person’s cock stretched her rubber lined sphincter as it entered her. Again, her squeals were prevented from escaping into the outside world.

3 partners tonight. This was a first as far as she could remember.  But then she was used to her owners filling up her orifices. She was almost certainly being ploughed by three people now.

She couldn’t tell which one it was, but one of them tightly squeezing and twisting her rubber coated tits. He was far more aggressive than he would have been had he known that was a real person’s breasts he was twisting and crushing. Despite the pain, the prisoner couldn’t show any outward sign other than the enjoyment of the sensation that she was programmed to display.

Managing to time it to thrust against three different directions at once was a losing proposition. Fortunately, these three people seemed to be good at working together.

As she gulped down one dick, her vagina and ass were ploughed by the other two, she felt them getting properly engaged. It was at this point her droid bodies vibrational functions sprung to life. She was aware that her enjoyment of the experience was only a side effect of delivering that pleasure to the dicks inside her but it was more than welcome.

From here, as much as her metal prison allowed, she desperately tried to extend the experience long enough to climax herself.

No such luck this time. Again.

Her vibrations quickly made her lovers shake with orgasm and she sensed the weight and heat of their ejaculate collect in her rubber inserts.

Disappointed, her body was made to extricate herself from her lovers. Her rubber coated tongue was used to lick each of the men’s members clean.

****

After wiping a dribble of cum from her mouth Bett helped the visibly tired men up. “I do hope you are all satisfied,” she said.

“Yeah,” said one of the clones. Slightly too excitedly.

“Hmm, yes, pretty good thanks,” said another.

BD-3081 began dressing each one in his armour.

Only when all men were armoured and their blasters handed back did Bett don her own dress.

They filed out of the small supply room and out of the exit ramp.

“Could I get you anything else gentlemen? Perhaps another tea.”

“Yes, please,” said one of the clones.

Bett took the tray of empty cups away. In the galley she began brewing the Tarine tea. After looking around conspiratorially she poured water into her mouth. Partial to rinse the cum out of her mouth cavity and partial to assuage the thirst of the woman trapped inside her.

****

The blade like Delta 7 starfighter streaked through the sky, its engines thrumming. Blue laser bolts streaked out. The bolts impacted on the surface of the asteroid throwing up spurts of stone until the impacts intersected with a heavy laser turret. It exploded in a shower of sparks and metal which, due to the low gravity, flew into the depths of space.

Inside the cockpit Vela smiled at the droid outside her. “Another one down,” she said Smugly.

Beep, boop, boop, woot, boop.

“That was an easy target, don’t get complacent,” said the starfighters commlink, translating the external droid.

“Oh, hush Mistress.”

“I didn’t copy that General Samilon,” came Commander Jack over the commlink from the star Destroyer.

Vela went bright red.

“Errr… I said, don’t miss this.”

Vela Dropped low to the planetoid, barrel rolled and blasted another turret into bits.

“Excellent shooting General,” came the commlink message from the Commander.

She could feel the patronising tone in his voice. She did sound like a the most annoying padawan.

“How many turrets are left?” asked Vela.

“We can see 5 left and we’re looking for more,” said Jack. “But leave those to us. There are unknown flyers spotted on your 8, coming from the other side of the asteroid.

Vela, pulled up and span the craft the other way.

In the distance 3 small points of light had already begun firing. Streams of red beams sent a pair of V19 Torrent starfighters up in flames before they could turn away.

Accelerating, Vela engaged aggressively. The trio of Vulture droid fighters quickly turned towards her unleashing rapid fire blaster bolts in her direction.

Vela span left, then quickly right, sending their blaster bolts to her left. She fired a quick burst which hit the first droid, destroying it in a fiery explosion. She was so fast and so close that she passed straight through that ball of fire. Her starfighter shook violently.

The Vultures zoomed past and banked to get back on target.

One of the vultures exploded in a barrage of blue laser bolts. Freed of their pursuers the remainder of the V19 squadron had com back around and enacted vengeance.

Pitching away for its life the droid swung around, only to be destroyed by a barrage of laser bolts from a supporting ARC-170 squadron.

“That’s all three confirmed,” Vela called to the commlink. “Do we see any others?”

“No General. Just debris now,” responded the Commander.

Vela scrunched her face up in thought. She had only seen 3 when they were being chased before but that didn’t seem like many for a facility of this size. She had assumed there were more that weren’t ready to launch when they escaped. But they had plenty of warning now.

“Do we see any active turrets?” Vela asked.

“No General. The LAAT’s have been launched,” replied Jack.

“I’ll meet the team at the main landing pad,” said Vela.

The Aethersprite pulled a tight turn and rocketed away over the, all to close, horizon.

With dust and debris shot into the air around it. Vela put the star fighter down next to the landing pad. Two LAAT Space Gunships were already on the landing pad amid the burning wreckage of the turrets there.

The doors opened and Clone Troopers poured out.

Vela opened her cockpit and summersaulted up to the pad. She scanned the battle field, clones moved into position, more LAAT’s flying to the other, hidden entrances.

She felt a lot more confident in this clone trooper armour, with decent a robe over it and her breather of course. Her vibrosword at her belt was still a point of contention but it’s presence made her feel better. She still advanced with the DC-17 pistol, from her other hip, drawn.

“Looking good their Vela,” came Bellen’s voice over the coms.

“Let’s keep this channel for official business, shall we?” Vela responded. But she couldn’t help but smile at the lovable rogues charming banter.

She focused, extending her right hand and made the force bare R3 up onto the landing pad.

Vela pointed to the elevator which was broken in this raised position but still had the s comp port in it.

Meanwhile Vela rushed to the recessed steps on the edge.

She was stopped by a trooper. “Det charge planted!”

Another trooper ran up the stairs. When he got around the corner, he pulled the det-charger and pressed the button.

The focused explosion rocked the pad and sent a cloud of fragments out of the stairwell.

The clone troops followed this up with a grenade into the room below.

After the pulse of the ECD grenade the clones charged down there. Droids not caught in the blast returned fire.

Vela rushed down the stairs stepping over a dead clone she fired through the doors into the massed and operational B1 battle droids. Getting some cover, she drew her vibrosword and slashed an inoperative droid in two.

She leaned around the corner, blasting another pair of B1s. From a large group that were firing back. A clone trooper rolled out another grenade. As the pulse enveloped them, it left them disabled with blue energy coursing over their chassis.

Vela leapt forward, shooting an active droid and bisecting another.

She stopped at that point as the clones cleaned up and prepared to do the same process all through this deep facility.

A number of clones with long range DC-15x sniper rifles and Z-6 rotary blasters took position on the gantry looking down the main shaft of the facility. They intermittently took pot-shots at B1’s moving below and reported troops movements.

She stopped and picked up her commlink. “R3, how is the slicing going? Have you located Dassor or any of the more powerful droids…Mistress?” She made sure to whisper that last word as quietly as possible as close to the comm as she could.

She heard R3 start beeping then the commlink translated. “Negative. There is no sign and much of the tech has been disconnected.”

“Disconnected or secured Mistress,” said Vela.

“Disconnected Vela. There are no signs of any additional security measures on the network and no addresses that indicate the missing nodes have been moved or locked off,” replied the translating commlink.

Vela twisted the control on the commlink. “Commander!” she said.

“Yes General,” replied Commander Jack.

“We’ve successfully breached and we’re making our way down,” said Vela.

“All assault teams are inside now, “ said the Commander.

“Has anyone encountered the B2 droids, or more powerful,” said Vela.

“Negative General. Just a lot of B1s,” said Jack.

Vela looked at the smashed droids, the advancing clones, and troops stationed in the main shaft. This didn’t make a bit of sense that they would let them get the high ground without committing more powerful droids at the dangerous choke points they have already fought through.

Vela’s eyes widened in realisation.

“PULL BACK, EVACUATE,” She shouted to the clones around her.

“Pull all our forces back Commander, this is a trap!” she called over the commlink.

“Mistress, get out of that elevator shaft.”

The clones obeyed without question and rushed for the exit. It was becoming a crush at the door as they tried to evacuate in an orderly manner.

“Are you sure General,” Jack asked over the commlink. “If this isn’t correct, we may never get back in.”

“I’m confident Commander,” replied Vela sternly.

Just as she said that, while queuing at the door. The sound of large explosions from deep in the base echoed up the main shaft.

More and more explosions, getting closer and closer.

Just as she got through the door and saw stars and star ships above her. Vela grabbed the two clones next to her around the waist and catapulted them all up to the top of the pad, freeing up the stairs for more troops.

R3-JN was only a few meters clear of the elevator when the entire structure seemed to lift into the air. There was a massive bang and scream of tortured metal. Then the elevator disintegrated in a gout of flame and smoke.

There were screams of blasted and burning Clones from the room below. Several wounded and smouldering troopers clambered from the stairwell.

Acting quickly Vela focused the force to lift R3-JN off the landing pad and into the astromech position on her ship.

Only then did she rush back to the clone soldiers. She picked up an unconscious soldier. As she rushed back to the gunship she could hear the structure creaking, feel it moving. As she placed the trooper in the back portion of the ship she called through, “Get this going, this pad’s going to collapse. Get the other ship to do the same.”

Her instincts were right of course. Those damaged areas that housed destroyed weapon turrets began collapsing. With a massive screeching and crash the remains of the heavy weapon fell into the damaged rooms below.

They had barely got the wounded into the hovering gunships when the rest of the padding pad sheared away and slid into the elevator shaft.

Vela, who was pulling another wounded clone from the wreckage, needed to force leap into the rocky surface with the wounded man. She landed with a bump, the bottom of her robes torn and several armour plates damaged or sacrificed to jagged shifting metal.

The dropships pulled away, with some clones clinging to the outside, as the structs imploded and fell into the asteroid interior.

As the landing pad continued Its tortured movement Vela surveyed the scene. She had saved many troops pulling them back but they had lost a considerable number. And she could feel some still alive in there.

Vela pulled up her commlink again. Her eyes rising to the massive form of the Venator star destroyer looming above.

“Commander, pull everyone back from the landing pad and organise rescue teams. What’s the situation at the other entrances?” said Vela.

“It’s the same everywhere. Every entrance was mined and we even found a massive entrance on the other side of the asteroid when it detonated. It may have compromised this whole asteroid so we should leave as soon as possible,” replied the commander.

‘So that’s it then,’ thought Vela. ‘Nothing could survive inside this facility.’

“She must have retreated. I imagine the hidden entrance was large enough for several ships, or a large one, that must have been hidden there to be ready to evacuate. And used her massive numbers of droids to move the most important stuff quickly,” said Vela into the commlink.

“With what you were saying about the size of their production operation they must have been forced to leave a lot behind. This is a grave blow to their operation. Good work General,” said Jack.

It didn’t feel like a victory for Vela though. They were hoping for answers and a cipher rod that could be anywhere by now.

Vela looked at the commlink. Slowly with shaking hands she switched the channel. “Bellen,” she started. “I’m sorry.”

Chapter 13: Frontlines

Allegiances

An erotic, Lesbian, BDSM, Star Wars fan story

By Over_Run_666

Chapter 13 – Frontlines

“General” Called Captain Liam. “General Samilon.”

“Oh. Captain Liam. Sorry. Still not used to being called General,” said Vela.

“I’ve been looking for you. We have some information from intelligence.”

Vela screwed up her face in surprise and worry. Here in the Jedi temple, she was expecting to be called out for her numerous shameful secrets at all times. “About what Captain?”

“We’ve found some things as we are going through the Data your droids bought back from the CIS facility,” said Liam.

“Oh, Captain.” Vela was still on edge. She still expected him to ask something about the skeletons in her closet.

Liam held up a holoprojector disk. A flickering blue-tinted figure appeared. Frozen in the process of smashing a clone trooper.

“Woah! that thing is huge,” exclaimed Vela.

“So it was as much as a surprise to you then?” said Liam.

“Any reason it wouldn’t be?” said Vela suspiciously.

“Not really. This is a new type of droid that we just now have reports of being encountered around the Facang front. It’s only luck that when you were in that droid facility they were just working on him and we got an identity. ‘Major Abductor’ So it looks like it’s related to your Sith.”

Vela’s blue eyes became intense all of a sudden. “There’s only one of these things? You’re sure it’s related?”

“Absolutely. We have the sensor codes registered from both.  We think it’s a new aggressive commander unit. We probably stopped them before they could make more than one. Though you were lucky to not run into that one when you escaped,” said Liam.

Vela shuddered. “Captain. We need to go to Facang. How long before you get out there?”

“We’re currently resupplying and taking on reinforcements. Which will take another two days. But if you need us to take off with what we have then we can be re-fueled in 4 hours,” replied the Captain.

Vela looked at him. It was a casual question but one that she couldn’t help but dwell on. If she sent this ship to a full battlefront with less than a full compliment of troops and starfighters they could be at a dangerous disadvantage.

A less that full compliment due to the casualties they suffered following her orders.

“No Captain Jack. You get that ship in full order and head over. I’ll go ahead and link up with the forces already there,” said Vela.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own General?”

“I’ll be fine Liam. I’m a pretty good pilot… and a Jedi.”

****

Leaning on the stone parapet. Vela looked out over the Coruscant skyline from the top of the Jedi temple.

As the sun fell towards the horizon tears began to form in her eyes.

Hearing a click clack behind her made Vela turn around.

Yoda was approaching, his cane tapping the ground as he went.

"Master Yoda," said Vela, bowing deeply.

"Vela, good evening," said Yoda. His tone was sagely and comforting.

"Faced a Sith, I hear, you have."

"Yes, Master Yoda…"

He walked up to the parapet next to Vela, peeking over the top. Vela was happy to be able to turn back to the vista.

"Dassor Hex, I hear it was?" said Yoda. His eyes moved to the side, to Vela. Her eye's widening, the human Jedi didn't dare look back to Yoda.

"Yes Master Yoda. It was," replied Vela. She prayed that Yoda wouldn't probe further.

Vela felt Yoda's hand on her leg that made her turn to him.

"Very well, you did, I understand," said Yoda.

Vela turned to him, completely surprised that he was complimentary.

After smiling at Vela, Yoda scrabbled up the parapet. It wasn't until Vela helped him up did he manage to mount the wall and sit on the top with an exasperated sigh.

He used this position to look at Vela at a height that was closer to her own. Though Vela was leaning so far over the wall he was higher than her head.

"Target you, she did, but escape you did. Vital information, you revealed, of their plans."

"But Master Yoda," started Vela.

"Suffer greatly, you did, and your friends," replied Yoda. "Hide you grief, you need not, around here."

Vela looked up, tears in her eye's before she buried her face in her arms, sobbing.

Yoda started to push himself off the wall. "Leave now, I will. Come see me, if talk to someone, you need."

"Master Yoda, don't go," said Vela, wiping her eyes. "I waited so long to talk to you. Please stay."

Master Yoda smiled and patted Vela's head.

"Great change's, I sense in you Vela. Show your new sabre, to me, will you please."

Vela smiled again and stood up, pulling her newly created Sabre from her belt. It ignited, lighting her up, in bright pink light.

"Hmm, rare, a pink Sabre is," said Yoda.

Vela shut it off quickly, growing bashful.

"Not a problem, that is. Though rare, it is, tells me, very special, you are. Have a look, may I?"

Vela handed Yoda the Sabre. "Of course Master."

Yoda held it out at arm's length and ignited it.

"Hmm, well balanced, it is. Intense power, it emits. Suits you, it does."

"Thank you," said Vela. 

Yoda passed it back to her. Vela attached it to her belt.

"Master Yoda. There's only two Sith at a time isn't there? So if one Jedi was lost taking one down then we should always take that opportunity shouldn't we?" said Vela.

"Trading lives, the Jedi way, it is not. Responsible, you feel, but you should not. From expelling Dassor, stopped the council, I should have."

"Master Yoda?" Said Vela. She had opened up, and turned to him. "How is it that love is a part of the dark side? How is that fair?"

"Dark side, love is not. The light side, is it, neither. Both sides of the force, love transcends."

Vela already seemed to gain strength from this. "Then Master. Why aren't we allowed attachments?"

"Not for, fear of love, it is that attachments are not allowed. Rare, are the Jedi. Thinly spread we are. Selfish is the Jedi who dedicates themselves to one person. Not the problem, love is. Too few people, Loving is."

Vela looked at the master. Her eyes becoming intense. She nodded her head with a newfound sense of purpose. "Thank you Master."

Yoda pushed himself off the parapet. Hanging, feet waving in the air briefly before he dropped onto the ground.

Vela watched as Yoda walked down the path. Having to walk around R3-JN, the master shouted at the droid then banged her dome repeatedly with his cane before continuing and going downstairs.

****

Storm Town, Gas mining Colony Above Planet Facang 6

“DASSOR HEX!” shouted Conda Cubguco. Her leks span behind her as she turned towards Dassor. Behind Conda two battle droids fell into two pieces, separated by the glowing hot edge of a lightsaber cut.

The star Facang was little more than a large star in the sky at this distance. The city was lit by fires and the few still operational street lamps. The frequent lightning was all that illuminated the clouds for thousands of miles into the distance below them.

Dassor looked perturbed as Conda advanced on her and sliced with her green lightsaber blade.

The Jedi attacked with such lightning speed that it flashed against Dassor’s red sabre and again against her wrist-mounted light blades in the blink of an eye.

Dassor seemed more surprised than Conda that she blocked that with suddenly appearing blades. The sith snarled and slashed out with her sabre and punched with her wrist blades. It was clear that Conda was the far superior blades woman but the frenzied attack made Conda dash backwards after deflecting the lightsabre blade.

“Still sloppy Hex. You haven’t gotten much better since under your Sith master”, Conda chided.

“I’m better in all ways Conda, just maybe I haven’t wasted my time on one discipline Cubguco,” Dassor spat back.

The Jedi began to spring forwards only to stop as a stung blast shot past her face. She turned and deflected another.

Large numbers of custom B2-CU droids approached from various entrances firing blasters.

Conda span, dispersing a nearly complete cage of stun bolts with her lightsaber.

Between the speed of her blade, her quick movements, and the scintillating energy from the scattered stun beams the droids lost track of their target. Just as they tracked, she emerged from the cloud adopting a low, wide stance and focused there for a second.

Dassor adopted a combat stance and charged as the dozens of droids opened fire again. Their stun bolts converged in empty air. Only the after image of that green lightsaber remained. It arced in a zigzagging path across the room. Like a piece of holo art. Or, as Dassor noted, some of the Jedi training vids. It was like Conda’s blade illuminated the perfect form for the weapon as it zoomed across the room in its spinning path.

Red hot slashes through B2 droids were left in its wake and they detonated a fraction of a second later.

The arcing path ended with Conda safely behind the cover of a wall.

Dassor growled in frustration. The Jedi took a handful of custom battle droids in one swoop and negated the advantage of catching her in open ground. Despite her earlier confidence Conda knew better than to engage Dassor with those droids still firing.

Advancing on the Jedi’s hiding spot with the droids flanking Dassor shouted, “You might as well give up. We’ve defeated your clones,”

“I won’t be so easily dispatched Hex. Looks like you are running short on droids too,” said Conda.

Smiling wickedly Dassor replied, “Only because some of them had to take your Padwan to our brig. She’ll be being made comfortable now and I’m going to enjoy that.”

Mention of the young Jedi rattled Conda momentarily. “Dassor you vicious bitch, if you’ve hurt Kenta.”

A droid flew against the wall with a crash, propelled by the force.

With movement behind the cover, another droid flew through the air.

Electricity burst from Dassor’s hand smashing through the cover and connecting with the upheld green lightsaber.

Conda smiled as her face was illuminated with the violet tinged light.

Suddenly the wall behind Conda exploded into fragments and dust that consumed the shocked Conda.

The Jedi span to just make out the massive, white armoured droid smashing through the wall. She spun around with her lightsaber but it was dashed away by a blue lightsabre blade that sprung from the droids knuckles. It had such force that even with the small movement required to block the attack it nearly knocked the saber out of her hand and left her wide open. She was starting to dash with Jedi speed when the droid grabbed her around the waist knocking the wind out of her.

A massive stun charge blasted through her body. Her armour only offered some resistance. The droid flicked the lightsaber out of Conda’s hand and grabbed her face in its massive three-finger grasp.

Conda only had a chance to snarl and lock eyes… sensors with that massive helm.

“I’m sorry,” said Major Abductor.

Conda’s pink eyes were suddenly wide with surprise at her enemies words.

Then a shock ran into her body, knocking her clean unconscious.

The massive droid’s fist tore the Twi-leks robes and armour off as easily as if it were fruit skin.

A droid ran from a back room. Its narrow head poking out of a wide chrome collar indicated its B1 heritage. But it seemed to have an additional layer of chrome armour over parts of it held together with a thin rod-like exoframe.

The chrome opened piece by piece. The slightly altered B1 droid inside extracted itself. Piece by piece it fed the naked Conda into the chrome binder droid in its place. It was programmed with precision, almost balletic in its speed and grace.

Soon the droid was supporting the unconscious Conda. Her body was now locked in that tight metal bodysuit. Feet in those painful chrome ballet boots. Hand’s in those rubber and chrome mitts. Neck and bottom half of face in that durasteel neck corset.

Even her leks were held behind her back in two pairs of tight cuffs at the neck and waist.

It was about that point she awoke, perhaps because of her sensitive lek being clamped. Perhaps because of the probes that entered her.

Her eyes went wide as her arms crossed in front of her belly, locking tightly to the metal corset, hands forming into solid metal balls.

Grinning like a maniac Dassor kicked Conda in the stomach with her high heeled boots. It wasn’t a hard kick but dazed as she was, on those ballet heels she fell backwards. With loud clicks, Conda’s calves bound tightly to her thighs leaving her kneeling and frogtied.

The Jedi tried to look down but her collar was too high and tight. She pulled in vain against the metal bindings, this way and that. She could only stare daggers at Dassor as the Sith approached.

Laughing, Dassor crouched in front of the struggling Conda. She pressed a green light on the masks cheek. Conda’s mouth opened into a circle like a ring gag. Her tongue poking out unconsciously.

Grabbing her chin with a black latex glove Dassor pressed her black-painted lips against Conda’s open mouth. Their tongues jostled and Dassor came away with Conda’s pink tongue between her teeth.

Conda moaned as her tongue was stretched.

Mercifully Dassor let it go and the tongue retreated into its open hole.

“Ugh uuu ahhhoh,” said Conda through the gag.

As The sith stood black panels slid upwards from the mask covering Conda’s eyes.

The sound of quiet buzzing started from the Jedi’s metal-covered belly. She squirmed, and let out a little moan. This bought a smile to Dassor’s black lips.

Gesturing to a droid, purely for effect given her cybernetic controller. A B2 droid picked up the trapped Conda by a handle that popped out of her metal corset.

As the group moved back through the floating city Dassor stopped and looked to the sky.

Something beyond the range of the naked eye exploded in a just visible burst.

“Welcome back Vela. Looks like we will have three Jedi soon Major,” said Dassor.

Chapter 14: Race against Time

Allegiances

An erotic, Lesbian, BDSM, Star Wars fan story

By Over_Run_666

Chapter 14 – Race against Time

The Delta 7 Aethersprite Interceptor spat a line of laser cannon bolts as it streamed towards the smoking Storm Town. The targets, a squadron of the Vulture droids that rose to meet the lone fighter. They broke to all sides with a screech of engines. The laser bolts moved to after the central droid sheering a wing off and sending it spiralling down into Facang 6’s impossibly deep atmosphere.

Inside the Aethersprite’s cockpit, Vela was a picture of grim determination.

“Beep booop whir,” said R3-JN outside the cockpit.

“No, we won’t. We’ll be OK… Mistress,” replied Vela Samilon curtly.

As if in answer the Interceptor shook as shields flashed and Vela was shaken inside it. Vela turned into the attack and flew at the droid starfighter. The Vulture banked away but Vela fired a short burst of laser fire after it. A shot just struck the fuselage which cracked open and sparked. The droid wobbled, able to right itself and account for the damage that would disable a piloted craft. But lightning arced from the thick clouds to the exposed engine. Power seemed to die on the craft and flopped down into the planets hidden depths.

Vela gunned the engine as the remaining fighters turned onto her. Banking and rolling she avoided the blaster shots as she raced towards the cover of the floating city. Between spires of the multiple platform city and the sensor limiting storm, Vela’s only hope was losing her attackers there.

The multiple, connected circular platforms of the city raced towards the Jedi. But droid blaster shots soon changed from across her bows to sailing towards her point of travel. She quickly and frantically had to change tactics. Moving and rolling to avoid shots from behind. Sweating Vela check the radar and the two vultures were clearly closing from behind. It was clear from this position it was only a matter of time before they got her range.

As the Delta 7 shook with shield impacts there was an explosion and one of the radar signatures turned into smaller irregular fragments and disappeared.

Pulling to the side Vela stalled the fighter and the other Droid began to race past. It seemed to be ignoring her.

It was soon obvious why.

A missile screeched from behind and smashed into the Droid destroying it just a score of meters off the Aethersprite’s left side.

Three friendlies appeared on the cracking radar. Looking to her side a BTL-B Y wing appeared.

“You seem to be eager General Samilon,” the pilot said over the commlink.

Vela pressed the commlink and responded. “Am I glad you guys caught up? There’s a Sith down there I need to stop.”

“We’ve lost contact with General Cubguco and her forces down there. There was were far stronger starfighter force than we expected. There must be a capital ship in the clouds somewhere. Are you sure it’s wise to go there alone?”

Vela looked at R3-JN through the cockpit window and touched her collar. Conda Cubguco is a legendary Jedi Master. If she fell under Dassor Hex’s thrall it could be disastrous.

“We can’t let the Sith capture General Cubguco. And we need to contact the remaining clone forces. I have to go down there,” said Vela. She was more serious, almost solemn now realising the race against time that was in hand.

“General Vela. This is Commander Leo. I hear you. We’ll support you as much as we can,” the comm-link barked with a new voice.

“Thank you, commander,” said Vela. She gunned the engines and closed over the floating city.  Behind her, Republic starfighters pushed back the separatist fighters.

R3 beeped and whirred. The commlink shouted a translation. “I’ve detected the signal from Dassor’s Major Abductor.”

“Great work R3,” Vela said. She pressed a button on the commlink. “Bellen, did you get that? I’ll let you know when I’ve located them and it’s safe to land.”

“No way Vela. I’m coming in hot. You heard the Commander. There’s far more than just your Sith and its droid. You’ll need us to pick up survivors,” Bellen’s voice came back over the com.

Vela smiled. Despite her misgivings about Bellen landing she was grateful for the support. “You look after yourself Bell,” she said.

As the battle still raged in the sky above, the Delta 7 landed softly. Explosions and blaster fire were visible through the clouds above.

Not long afterwards the cockpit opened and Vela lept out. Her eyes darted around for signs of the enemy.

She advanced with a handheld scanner as R3 lowered through the hull of the Aethersprite.

The commlink crackled and Bellen’s voice came through, “Vela! I just saw a C-9979 on the disk across from that one.”

Looking to the sky, then the spires of the next disk, then finally to her hand sensor, Vela considered the options.

Dassor’s droid commander was still here, but what if they had the Jedi on that ship already.

Vela ran through the streets looking at her scanner occasionally.

Near the edge of the disk, she stopped with a shocked look. Down the street, on the other side of a bridge was a formation of battle droids and in the middle was the black-clad Sith Dassor Hex.

“DASSOR HEX!” Vela screamed.

It was a foolish move.

Turning, hanging her head so that her long hair fell to the side, Dassor Hex turned to this newcomer.

She had a smile on her face. A Dozen of the B1 and B2 droids turned and raised their weapons.

Vela Samilon stood her ground in a wide battle stance with her light sabre raised. She intended to see how many of those droids she could push off that bridge.

But a perceptive opponent would see how quickly Vela was ready to run. She couldn’t fight the sith and all those droids. She hoped to delay their departure and nothing more.

The droids walked onto that span, weapons raised.

They only didn’t fire because of the limited range of the stun setting. Something that Vela was relying on.

As robotic feet were about to advance a loud metallic clang rang out. The centre of the bridge split apart. Suddenly, the entire disk Vela was on plummeted downwards.

Within a second the other disks of storm city were a hundred meters above them. Then two hundred meters. Then 300 meters. The deceleration stopped suddenly and Vela fought against her suddenly greater weight to remain standing.

Vela Samilon breathed away her frustration as she looked upwards.

Far above Dassor Hex sneered as she leaned over the edge looking down.

Walking calmly away Vela headed to the cover of buildings should the droids above start shooting. Somewhere there must be a control station for the disk’s altitude. If not she would need to get back to her ship.

Her hand just pulled up the scanner at her hip when her eye’s flicked to her side.

She dove through a doorway to an abandoned cafeteria. Narrowly avoiding the ragged chunks of plascrete from the exploding wall in the alleyway opposite.

Without missing a beat the exploder, Major Abductor rushed through the cascading rubble. It took a half-meter chunk out of the door frame as it continued charging through into the restaurant.

The pink lightsaber ignited and behind it, Vela looked on with determination in her bright blue eyes.

Tables were cast left and right as the bipedal war machine bull-rushed the Jedi.

Within a second, and with a blur of pink light and dark robes Vela cartwheeled out of the way.

It was fast, it needed to be. Abductor had the speed of an athlete, despite its massive bulk.

Vela only just moved around its bulk as it charged past.

Still, the Jedi had bounced back on the attack as soon as she was back on her feet behind the droid. An arc of pink light appeared as she struck towards the Abductors massive armoured back.

There was a flash of energy and high pitched squeal. With mechanical speed and a warriors skill, Abuctor had spun around and the lightsaber was halted against the cracking shock gauntlets.

Vela struck, again and again, this way and that.

Massive armoured gauntlets quickly moved to block like a boxer. Each time a flash of light and that screech of fields interfering.

Then a particularly forceful parry sent Vela’s lightsaber wide opening her up.

A quick jab followed. If this was a human that might have only momentarily staggered the Jedi. From this tank-like droid, it could knock out a Wookie. To say nothing of the electrical stunning effect.

Flowing like water around the attack Vela ducked underneath the fist. It missed by scant finger-widths.

Major Abductor was on the offensive now, delivering jab after jab. Vela could only dodge so many. Those she blocked she did so with both hands on her saber. They still forced her back from the force of the robots blow.

Were she not a Jedi she would surely have been sliced apart by her own lightsaber. As it was she was forced to give ground.

On the third such hit, she staggered back and her foot slid against the back wall. She had run out of room to retreat and Abductor made sure to keep close where her strength was most advantageous. With left Fist up as a guard and intending to crush the Jedi against the wall, Abductor closed the trap with a right hook.

There was nowhere for Vela to go. Her saber struck the incoming fist. Her right hand on her wrist adding strength.

Abductor bore down, it seemed over.

Vela’s hand opened and a sudden rush of power stopped Major Abductor flat. A table next them flipped several times crashing through the rest of the furniture in the room. It was as if a rocket engine exhaust blasted from Vela’s hand.

The Unkor repost.

A quick force strike to be sure, and limited in the power it can impart. Still, with Vela Samilons skill it could flip a Gamorean like a skittle.

For this massive droid, it was enough to halt the most certainly final advance. Just.

Just enough time for Vela to push again. Another quick power but from a prepared position against a stopped foe.

Just lifted off the ground Major Abductor was forced to take several steps backwards by the power.

Vela let her saber fall and outstretched her hand, her feet in a solid stance.

The flowed through her and she focused it on that massive droid. It rocketed backwards, tables chairs scattered like leaves on the wind as Abductor crashed through the window and wall.

In the street it slid to a halt, its feet leaving two scuff marks behind it.

Quickly, as if that great show of power had never happened, it raised both hands. Ports slid open on the armoured casings on the back of its gauntlets. Two blasters in each wrist sent a stream of rapid-fire stun circles through the hole at Vela.

Leaping to the side Vela narrowly dodged the stream of blaster fire.

****

Looking out of the Lantillian shuttle’s cockpit Bellen Eshtan could see the dagger-like form of the Aethersprite as she came into land.

Bellen pulled the nose up and anti-grav engaged as gently bought the shuttle vertically down. In the sky above the streams of laser fire and explosions grew closer as the Army of the Republic pushed the droid army back.

But it was a reminder that they were behind the lines and on their own for the time being.

10 meters up.

5 meters up.

Suddenly the cockpit flashed and alarms screamed as the city fell away from them.

The shuttle rocked and Bellen fought with the controls.

With razor quick wits Bellen gunned the main engines just as a huge building’s massive overhanging section crashed through the space the GX-1 had just occupied.

Bellen breathed out heavily, eyes wide at the narrowness of their escape.

Pressing the intercom Bellen asked, “Is everyone alright back there?”

It was a long, tense while before a reply came back.

In the back Ami, what Vela had decided HRD8032 should be called, had to extricate herself from underneath the toppled Bett. Before she could press the intercom. “We’re fine back here. What was that?” said Ami. Rubbing her butt.

“Someone moved the city,” replied Bellen.

They had already circled again and come back to the landing spot. She didn’t dare go as low as they had come in on the way in, if the city moved again that could be a death sentence. This made them a bit more obvious to the plethora of war droids but it had to be done. The scoundrel hoped that the CIS were too distracted about the Republic army to worry about some shuttle. The benefits of this common spacecraft.

Bellen concentrated, one hand on the thrust at all times, as she bought it down.

Running out of the door, pistol in her mitt, Bellen had her poncho on over her the binder droid that was the only clothing she could wear.

Ami followed, googles and a breather hiding her face. She wore a combat jacket and patted the large pouch on her combat belt that was mounted opposite her blaster pistol holster.

Silhouetting herself in the doorway Bett saw them off.

Bellen turned, “Bett, see if you can contact any of the republic troops.”

Bett turned away from the door as it closed.

R3-JN was waiting for them and turned away as they approached.

“Why did you let her go on her own?” Bellen accused JN.

R3 beeped and whirred defensively.

Bellen, suddenly doubled up in pain as electricity coursed through her belly. “Sorry Mistress,” she cried.

****

Major abductor slid backwards out of an alleyway.

A stream of pink energy followed up. It flashed high against a fist bought up to defend the droid's dome-like head. Vela span quickly, attacking the droids ankle from behind.

Her pink blade flashed against a blue lightsaber blade that had emerged from the knuckles of Major abductors hand.

The droid struck out and Vela sprang backwards.

“You’re growing tired Jedi,” a mechanical voice emerged from the droid.

“That’s my lightsaber! You and that bitch of Sith are going to pay for this!” Vela panted. She knew Abductor was right though. This was taking a lot out of her and she wasn’t winning. Just managing to get one step ahead. She had to end this now.

Vela closed her eyes and ran forward.  Arm outstretched, hand splayed, sword held behind her back, ready to strike. At the same time, Major abductor lifted into the air.

Just as Vela closed the distance Abductor was spun, turning upside down and positioning its head in the way of the blade from behind.

It was a difficult manoeuvre. To lift and manipulate that weight, while running. But Vela was gifted at this type of force skill.

There was a shower of sparks as lightsaber pierced metal but even in the flailing, spinning mess Major abductor managed to raise fist the lightsabers way. There was a clatter and a flash as Vela was repelled and Abductor hit the ground.

The droid rose to a knee as Vela lunged again. It sparked against that shock fist as the Major Abductors helmet split apart and dropped off.

Staggering back as if struck a fatal blow Vela was shaken to the core. Her face a rictus of horror at the realisation. “KESSAN! I didn’t…”

She was cut off by the massive fist that closed around her chest. And by the sparking electrical surge that made her squeal, her body spasm. Her lightsaber slipped from her fingers. The blade retracted as it clinked off the plascrete street.

Vela’s bright blue eyes looked deeply into Kessan Ipox’s golden eyes. Eyes that Vela had thought she would never see again.

Tears ran down Vela’s face. “I thought you were dead Kessan,” Vela said weakly. “If I’d known you had survived that I would have… I wouldn’t have left.”

“I’m sorry Vela,” said Kessan. Tears welling in her own eyes.

“You don’t know what she did to me. What she does to me. These aren’t even my arms!” Kessan screamed. As much trying to quiet her own thoughts. Even without the helmet Ipox knew that Dassor was could monitor as easily as if she was one of her mindless remote control droids.

With that the shock gauntlets activated again, more energy surged through Vela’s wounded body. She shook and was taken agonisingly into unconsciousness.

Picking up the lightsaber with her other hand Abductor secured it to her belt. She then walked down the street with Vela hanging limply from her hand as easily as if she were carrying a satchel.

At the end of the street, a B2-CU super battle droid emerged. It might have passed for a standard B2 were it not for a metal circle on its back, obvious behind its head like a halo.

The droid turned around and the halo raised into the air. It was clear that it was on the end of a track that extended down the droids back.

Major Abductor tore the robe off of the limp Vela’s body. She followed this by breaking the straps off the plastoid armour cuirass. As it clattered to the floor Abductor turned Vela’s body over.

Her bronze skin was beautiful, her body as tight and pert as Kessan had ever imagined. The wide gold collar she expected, but matching wrist and ankle cuffs and the pink and gold hut slave outfit were a surprise.

Vela was just rousing and struggled feebly against the durasteel grip of Major abductor.

With her body pressed against that track on the back of the B2-CU, Vela blearily blinked as the metal hoop activated with a hum.

A shiny black disk coalesced like an iris in the centre.

As it began to travel down the track towards her she began to panic in vain.

Her eyes pled with Kessan’s as the black polymer began to cover her head. Vela struggled but the polymer held her head tight while Abductor held her body.

“I’m sorry,” Kessan repeated. She turned away as Vela’s beautiful face disappeared under the rubber-like material. While it was being produced as a liquid it seemed to solidify and contract around her as soon as it was applied to her.

Soon it was down to her shoulders. A polyweave strap shot from the right side of the track. It fired around her head in an arc. Before sharply tightening around her eyes and ears.

Then the shiny black closed around her slave bikini. The design was clear through the rubber-like coating. Another poly weave strap fired across and tightened around her neck.

Down her body the hoop continued, leaving her completely encased body behind. More straps followed to hold her wiggling form fast. Around her shoulders, under her breasts, her waist, her hips, thighs, knees, calves and ankles. Holding her arms by her side and legs firmly together.

With Vela’s body completely coated in that thick rubber and held tightly by those polyweave straps, the hoop disconnected. It reset to the top of the track and folded flat.

Vela struggled in that tight seamless bodybag. Every curve of her body and design on her clothes and cuffs could be made out but it would be completely impossible to escape even without the polyweave straps. Those straps meant that her straining was only able to wiggle her feet.

All she could do was struggle as she could not breathe in there. That was until a final strap circled her face over her mouth. The was a finer strap, with a bulge over her lips with a hole in the centre. It wormed its way into her mouth. It expanded into that cavity, filling it, bonding with the black material. Until finally, mercifully, it cut a hole for her to breathe through.

Inside Vela was now rudely awake. The polymer was so tight that it was all she could think about. How it clung, how it warmed, how it squeaked and resisted her movement.

The tightness of those straps was impossible to ignore as they restricted her lung capacity and squeezed deeply into her flesh. They meant she could only wiggle her feet that the polymer held tightly together and slightly move her hands that were pinned to her hips.

Even though she could breathe the airway was restricted. It took as much strength as she could muster to draw enough air through. And then barely, she felt herself becoming weaker through the lack of oxygen.

Between the rubber and the polyweave strap, she could not see a thing and could barely hear anything around her beyond indistinct bass tones.

She focused there, trying to maintain herself as much as possible. She knew that they had designed this so that the lack of air, sensory deprivation and constant constriction would make it nearly impossible to use the force. Even if she could concentrate long enough to sense what she was working with in the world outside.

It was painful and demoralising. But the worst was to come.

The strap around her hips held something against her crotch. Another of Dassors cruel tricks. But this time it just held it against her chastity belt. She felt the intense vibrations through the belt. Reduced to just a tingle, a tease.

Either way, it was enough of a distraction to prevent even a master focusing the force at all.

Were it not for this belt she would be held and prevented from focusing by cumming while deprived of air. As it was, she was trapped here and just teased until she met with Dassor again. She would be ragged by then if she didn’t focus all her will.

****

As Kessan Ipox walked through the streets. Her keen warrior senses were free once more and she rose an armoured hand as a blaster bolt struck it instead of her head. A figure stood in the shadows, on metal tip-toe boots, her left hand, in its mitt out to the side to balance.

The heavy pistol fired again and again. It couldn’t penetrate Abductor’s thick armour let alone the lightsaber proof alloy coated gauntlets.

A spray of stun bolts caused Bellen Eshtan to dive around the corner.

Abductor ran towards the building in the same direction.

Bellen peaked around another corner as an exploding plascrete wall sent her sprawling.

Kessan picked Bellen up with both hands. The agent wept loudly, the tears running down her face and across the metal mask.

Kessan wondered at what point she had realised who she was. She couldn’t help but feel moved by her friends anguish.

“I was there when she took you Kessan. I know how much of you she took,” Bellen mewled. “I’m glad you are alive.”

“She took everything else Bellen. I can’t resist,” Kessan said. Disappointed in herself. She looked down across Bellen’s binder droid. You fought like this Bellen? Such Spirit. I wish I didn’t have to do this.”

“Do it Kessan,” wept Bellen.

Then Bellen’s body was rocked by a harrowing electrical charge. She slumped, unconscious in those mighty fists.

Footsteps behind her caused the Major to spin around. She caught Ami midair, who had leapt at Kessan. She clawed at Kessans face and neck plates before Major extended her massive arm and held the woman out of her reach. Leaving the senator copy flailing pathetically like a child fighting a grown-up.

“Ah the Human Replica Droid,” said Kessan. She flicked Ami’s goggles off. “So pretty. It’s a shame that we didn’t get you before you were revealed. Perhaps Dassor will be able to recover your parts for another droid. It won’t be your memory though.”

****

On the entrance ramp to her Heavy Missile Platform Gunship Major Abductor watched as her droids embarked. Including three B2-CU droids with human forms bound securely to their back racks inside those shiny black polymer coatings.

Chapter 15: Reunited

The disk-like Heavy Missile Platform Gunship ploughed through the red and brown gasses of Facang 6’s atmosphere. The endless expanse of cloud was only occasionally broken by the glow of lightning.

Such was the lack of visibility that a dark shape appeared and filled the entire front view within seconds.

A moment later stil,l the Gunship was flying towards the hanger bay of a Munificent class frigate.

The hangers force field pulsed as the Gunship’s insectoid cockpit pushed through it. Drifting to the side, rotating in place, the Gunship descended. Its landing gear extended and touched down with a loud metallic ‘Clong’.

The ramp dropped and Major Abductor stomped down it. Followed closely by a cadre of B2-CU battle droids. The front three with wriggling figures of rubber encased women on their backs.

At the back of the column, an R3 unit rolled off the ramp and towards the cover of the miscellaneous droids and equipment around the edges of the hangar.

In the bridge of the Munificent frigate, the Oubliette, Dassor Hex sat in the captain’s chair watching numerous screens, crewmen, and droids operating busily.

A super tactical droid approached Dassor. “Mistress, Major Abductor’s Gunship has touched down,” it said in a loud and deep feminine voice.

“Itto-4, Do we have contact with the observer droids,” replied Dassor.

“Yes Mistress, and we are in contact with the rest of the fleet.”

“Begin fire and move protocol,” said Dassor.

The ship's engines glowed; the massive Oubliette turned. With a massive whoosh laser and ion beams erupted from the front and smaller beams shot from its flanks.

In the dog fight above the floating city, a tight bundle of beams flew past. Several fighters and bombers exploded to the scattering lasers.

High above the planet the beams burst from the clouds and smashed into the shields of the Venator I star destroyer with a multicoloured flash.

Recovering, adjusting course, it opened fire. Its 8 double barrel turbo laser turrets sent a prodigious wave of fire back to the planet. Despite their wide spread, they disappeared into the clouds as if it were just another lightning storm. The Oubliette’s hull was only illuminated by the closest beam and it still completely unseen to the Venator.

At the same time, another burst of heavy beams burst from the planet some thousand miles away striking the Venator again.

The Venator returned fire at this new threat, and once again its beams disappeared into the depths of the planet without contacting a ship.

Then fire from another point on the planet strafed the Venator again.

On the bridge of the Oubliette Dassor was lit with ominous red lighting in the captain’s seat. Chin rested in hand she watched the monitors intensely.

Turning its red sensors to Dassor Itto-4 said, “Another hit, Mistress. Target’s shields are down to 94% and we have no reported hits on any of our capital ships. The plan is working perfectly.”

The super tactical droid was not programmed to read the less than impressed expression on Dassor Hex’s face.

There was a tone from the communicator.

“Mistress,” Major Abductors voice came through. “You asked to be notified when we had returned.”

Visible shifting in her seat, suddenly paying attention and leaning towards the comms in anticipation Dassor pressed the button. “Major. Do you have Vela Samilon?” She looked around the bridge but the droids and crewmen were paying no attention to her.

Finally, the communicator responded, “Yes Mistress. As well as HRD8032 and Bellen Eshtan.”

There seemed to be a sparkle in her eyes as Dassor once again looked around the bridge but again not one of the human or droid crew noticed.

A black rubber coated hand, with red plastic nails, was placed on her arm. Dassor glanced sidelong at BD4069 who had approached from behind the captain’s chair. Behind her gunmetal re-breather, Dassor smiled.

“Itto-4, continue the attack. I’m going to meet Abductor. Let me know if there is any development.” Her voice was deeper, harsher than usual as she rose and stormed out with a swish of her black skirt.

****

Kessan turned as the doors slid open with a whoosh. Dassor Hex was framed in the stark hallway lights before storming in.

Dropping to one knee, bowing her head, Kessan placed a massive fist on the chamber's floor. Her blue skin was turned purple and her pink hair was made shockingly bright by the red lighting

Looking at Major Abductor with the eyes of a mechanic totting up damage costs rather than someone worried for a colleague.

With a few more steps, even the cold-hearted Dassor’s eye’s widened as she saw the three wriggling rubber wrapped women.

Inspecting them for some time Dassor had a newfound intensity. With seemingly no thought towards the chaos of battle going on in space above them.

The three captives writhed and occasionally let out a stifled moan.

Dassor’s slender, latex covered hands probed the three encased captives. Squeeking over the black rubber, squeezing tightly bound flesh. The captives occasionally recoiled away in the tiny amount of movement allowed to them. Pulling off her metal respirator Dassor clipped it to her belt. Her tongue poked from between those black-painted lips. It looked for a moment as if she would lick the rubber-coated captive but merely licked her own lips.

The rubber cocoons were so tight around the prisoners that their features were visible through the shiny surface. Vela Samilon’s collar was clear, as were her cuffs, and the hard metal bikini that elicited a quizzical look from Dassor in Abductor’s direction.

It was obvious which one was Bellen Eshtan. The FU8-44 binder droid covered parts, her torso, hands, feet and the metal rods that connected them were all obvious. The straight, uncompressible metal was all too clear. Thought it seemed to put more pressure on her tightly polymer-coated flesh that wasn’t robotically clad.

HRD8032, the Padme Amidala duplicate droid, was the only one that was truly naked within her secure rubber enclosure. Every curve of her body was clear through the seamless polymer. Though she was a droid in there, she was the most responsive. Her desperation could be felt through the coating. Though it seemed she had very little strength left to move at all.

Quite unconsciously, as she examined them, Dassor’s hand squeaked against the snug latex wrapped around her belly. Seeming on the verge of moving to cup her breast at any moment. Her other hand touched her thigh, sneaking around, closer and closer to the flap of her black rubber dress that covered her crotch.

Suddenly awake, as if snapped out of some reverie, Dassor turned around storming back. Pointing at Vela’s encased form she snapped, “Release her. Strap her into the gurney. I need to start re-programming that damned mind control droid. Once I’ve worked out how ZX48 was infiltrated we’ll be able to apply that to ZX52 before we put it on that Jedi master.”

Major Abductor had not waited for her to finish her extrapolation before she split the rubber cocoon spilling Vela into the cybrog’s arms. Trapped for so long, having already been stunned, with breath limited by that tight rubber and that gag, Vela had no answer to the massive cyborg's strength.

Vela was already bound to the inclined medical bed before she was really conscious. Her body was clamped by polyweave straps that were immediately sinched tight.

Beckoning to Abductor with her hand, they both turned away. Major Abductor crouched down to get near to Dassor’s face as the sith spoke conspiratorially.

“When did you put her in the slave outfit?” asked Dassor. Her fearsome demeanour was almost completely gone.

“I… I didn’t. That’s what she was wearing under her robes.” Major Abductor sounded defensive. “I was going to rip off all of her clothes as you said. But when I saw that I figured you would…”

“Yes.” Dassor snapped. “I mean… good instincts.”

Forgetting herself Dassor leaned up and kissed Major abductors cheek, blushing immediately and hiding her face behind her respirator again. Bellen just looked on in shock, a giant cybernetic hand to her cheek.

Dassor turned back to face the bound Vela with her hands on her hips.  “Yes, good job Major. You deserve a reward.”

Lights flickered across the cybernetic black panel on the side of Dassor’s head.

Major Abductor gasped, her hand reached to her thickly armoured crotch. Vibration rocked her pussy deep within that robotic form.

Suddenly a shrill alarm sounded and a red light flashed.

With a grunt of disapproval, Dassor Hex rushed to a terminal. A series of whistles and beeps in droidspeak came from the console. Dassor’s face darkened as she listened.

Pressing a button Dassor shouted, “Keep up with the plan, I shall deal with this myself.”

Turning with a swish of her long white hair and black skirt she advanced towards the doorway.

“Major, secure the prisoners and ready the Jedi for programming.” Then the door swooshed close behind her.

Her tank-like bulk turned and Major Abductor moved towards Vela.

Each slamming footfall bought that massive cyborg closer. Bellen’s exposed head was breathing heavily and it was making her movements somewhat stilted.

Still, Vela realised she was weakened and these tight straps resisted every struggle she made.

Abductor went to the console by the side of the table. No doubt to start the process of resetting the mind-control droid around her neck and returning her to the enslavement of that sith harpy.

Vela struggled against her bonds again futilely, as Abductor pressed a button.

Then the straps unlocked with a snap and Vela slid down into a heap on the floor.

Abductor was tearing open the writhing rubber containment of Ami.

Vela looked on in surprise as Abductor picked up the weeping human replica droid.

Laying the helpless distraught Ami next to Vela the giant cyborg went to the remaining rubber cocoon.

Vela could only hold and comfort the naked ‘Not Padme’. As she cooed at Ami, Vela had to remind herself that this was a droid. Curled up there, sweaty, panting, crying, she could not seem more human. Ami had been violated directly this whole time she had been trapped. Vela and Bellen had chastity belts that reduced it to an annoying tease but Ami had been feeling the full force and had worn herself out in vain struggles against her bondage.

Bellen was released from the rubber prison and placed on her hands and knees breathing heavily through her nose. “Fuck me… please…” she mewed, her robotic mouth lighting up as it spoke for her.

“What’s going on!” Vela demanded. Still clutching the naked Ami to her body.

Kessan Ipox crouched by Vela and Ami, she was sweating herself and breathing heavily. Gently she stroked the crying girl-droids back with her massive metal fingertips.

“You all owe little HRD8032 a debt,” said Kessan. Reaching into one of her pouches on the small of her back she produced the small flat disk of a droid disabler. “She threw herself at me to slide this into my armour. Even as she was being wrapped by the B2-capture droid it took me out. It wouldn’t have done anything if it hadn’t have been slipped into my open helmet space. Then R3-JN found us and… stole me from Dassor. Though she left Dassor with access to hide it.”

“We call her Ami now,” Vela said.

“Cute name, it suits her,” Kessen said.

Vela noticed Kessan’s frustration, her redness, shortness of breath. “What’s wrong with you?” She said curtly. The distrust of Kessan was clearly difficult to get over.

“This thing…” Kessan tapped her crotch plate. “…it’s edging me. My reward for capturing you lot.”

“Edging you is a reward?”

“It’ll finish me off at some point. Soon I hope.”

“Can’t you stop it?”

“Only Dassor and R3 can.”

“Is it true?” Bellen said. She had risen unsteadily to the en-point robot boots. “Are you back with us Kessan?”

Kessan rolled onto a knee to face Bellen. Taking a deep breath, unable to prevent drawing in some of Bellens scent. Wetness started to form in her eye’s. “Yeah Bellen, I’m back.”

Stepping forwards Bellen collapsed onto Kessen’s giant armoured chest and started crying immediately. “Don’t leave us again,” she mewled.

Patting Bellen’s back with a ridiculously massive armoured gauntlet Kessan said, “I won't.”

With Bellen still attached to her chest, Kessan turned back to Vela. Reaching back into her gear she retrieved a lightsaber hilt and handed it to the Jedi.

Taking it, Vela smiled back.

“R3 is causing that distraction for us at the moment. I don’t know what she has done and I don’t know how long she can hold out.”

Chapter 16: Illuminated

Storming through the corridors the cadre of B2 battle droids had problems keeping up with the storming Sith’s rapidly clicking high heels. Dassor’s keen eyes darted around, checking through open doors that should be secure.

With blinding speed, suddenly Dassor had turned around and stood, with lightsaber drawn, and just in time. A wall of force sailed up the corridor smashing lights and fittings, sending those massive B2 droids rag dolling through the air towards her.

That lightsaber blade flashed in a red arc bisecting a battle droid into two glowing halves.

A second slice, back up, left another flying battle droid in two pieces.

Though the large parts of the droids were deflected the force and debris cast Dassor backwards. Snarling she rolled, her high heeled boots spread wide, latex glove on the floor she arrested her movement.

Before she had even stopped, Dassor saw a lightsaber fly from her belt into the dimness of the corridor.

The green lightsaber blade ignited at the end of the corridor illuminating the Twi’lek Jedi Conda Cubguco. She was still trapped in the FU8 series binder droid covering her body from her crotch to nose. Her feet locked in ballerina style, buttress heeled, metal boots. Her hands in rubber and metal-backed mitts as they clasped the sword hilt. All connected by metal bars. Her leks were still pinned together against her back.

Dassor stood up and chuckled. “I don’t know how you got this far but you are still in my binder droid. You won’t survive if you try to cut it off.”

The black cybernetic panel on the side of Dassor’s head lit up.

Conda winced as shocks from the droid contorted her body. Forcing her to her knees, where her legs locked together and against her thighs. She dropped the lightsaber before her arms wrapped around her waist and locked fast like a metal straight jacket. Her mouth popped open, and she shook as her vagina and ass were stimulated.

Dassor strode towards the bound Conda confidently. “Well, that little escape didn’t get far. And you interrupted something great so I’m going to have to have some fun with YOU now.”

Starting from her feet, the red lights on Conda’s binder droid began to turn green.

Feeling the pressure release on her Legs Conda swung one leg out in front of her. Pushing up on her tiptoes she rose.

In shock, Dassor stepped backwards. Looking around furtively.

Someone was slicing the systems around here. That must have been the case before but it ensured her enemy was on board this ship right now. Her cybernetic droid controller lit up as Dassor fought the slicing attempts.

The light on Conda’s crotch turned green, then red, the flashed between the two. Finally, it changed to green and stayed that way.

“Damnit, FU8-54 sever all remote connections NOW!”

The droid that securely bound Conda’s body beeped and wired quietly, small sensors in the shoulders flashed. Conda tugged at her arms with all her strength. Grunting and drooling from her gag.  Left and right, up and down. They were still hopelessly affixed to her waist and her unseen ally could no longer assist her.

Throwing her head back, long hair flowing, Dassor laughed. It became flat and atonal through her respirator. “That was close Jedi. But you are still perfectly caught. I’ll have your slicer friend soon too.”

Advancing snidely, Dassor's intent to abuse Conda was clear, but she got too close. A green sword blade ignited and span at Dassor, born by the force. Igniting her own blade at the last second Dassor repelled the attack.

A sharp toed boot from Conda landed in Dassor’s stomach. Doubled up from the impact Dassor was thrown backwards.

Running on those ballerina boots, sword floating next to her Conda followed up.

Snarling with the pain, Dassor held out a hand and sent a stream of electricity at Conda. Illuminating them both with indigo tinged light. The floating green sword moved to interpose, sparkling, surrounded by the energy. Seeming to absorb it.

A quick spinning kick was narrowly avoided by Dassor stepping back and the lightning stopped. Still spinning, kicking again straight away, Dassor went to block with her lightsaber. Intending to amputate her leg.

Suddenly the Sith was blasted by a force push, slamming her into the wall.

“Arrgh. Jedi, bitch. How long did you think you could continue this?”

Dassor, rebounded, charging at Conda with her lightsaber raised.

With force, Conda picked up the green lightsaber as it bounced on the floor. It ignited and deflected Dassor’s red lightsaber.

Dassor attacked with one angry swing after the other though. Conda was forced backwards deflecting with the floating blade.

“How long can you keep this up?” Dassor snarled.

Sensing the slightest opening, Conda threw a kick into Dassor’s side as she parried another strike. Dassor’s lithe pale body was knocked to the side with the grunt of pain.

Veritably bouncing back Dassor swung in a wide arc. Conda did get her light blade up in time to interpose but at the same time, Dassor gestured with her off-hand.

A bolt of lightning from the Sith illuminated them both and struck the Jedi.

It was a testament to Conda’s willpower that she was able to bring her lightsaber up to block it while she was wracked with the pain of that attack.

The binder droid, FU8-54, was as affected by the shock as Conda. Its sensors and lights flashed different colours, off and on. That was associated with the appropriate, shocks, stimulation throttling and pinching of Conda inside it. Further increasing her suffering.

Breathing heavily Conda had little time to recuperate as Dassor attacked again. A quick slash was followed up by a strong kick from her high heeled boots into the inside of the Conda’s thigh.

Retreating, blocking another lightsaber strike Conda suffered another kick in the ribs. Again and again, Dassor slashed to make her guard and then struck her.

Through the walkway, Conda could feel the stomping of feet in the corridor from beyond the door behind her.

Smiling now, Dassor taunted the Jedi, “I hope you aren’t thinking of giving up. I’m having a lot of fun. I’ll feel bad about doing this when you are locked up again.”

It was obvious how hopeless and painful the situation was for Conda. It had been taking everything she had to keep up and the Sith was playing with her.

Floating in front of her the green lightsaber turned itself, tipping the blade down. The hilt of the sword sailed into Conda’s open mouth gag like a metal cock.

Humiliating, but Conda was willing to humble herself even more if it gave the slightest chance of victory. As if to illustrate, Conda dropped into a combat stance. The lightsaber extended from her mouth illuminating her shiny metal covering with reflections of bright green lines.

Riled by the Jedi’s continued failure to give up Dassor leapt at her with a scream.

Conda deflected the blade with her own sword and continued spinning landing a strong kick in Dassor’s side.

As Dassor rolled backwards Conda followed up rushing towards her as fast as those painful, metal, top toe boots could carry her. Quickly recovering into a crouch Dassor raised her hand and let out a bolt of force lightning at the charging Jedi. The green lightsaber twitched to deflect the attack, seemingly holding the lighting on its crackling blade. But this stopped her advance and Dassor smiled.

But a rattling next to her made Dassor turn her head just as a large access panel was ripped from the wall and Dassor turned to slice it with her sword.

With the lightning stopped and Dassor's attention turned to deal with the attack Conda leapt forward lightsaber outstretched from her mouth in an attempted death blow.

In a fraction of a second, a pair of short lightsaber blades had extended from Dassor’s left wrist and turned away the blade.

Another pair of light blades emerged from the dark force user’s wrist interlocking with the other two. This formed a red bladed buckler that was equally deadly.

The Sith’s rage seemed to be at a whole new level now that she was forced to reveal her trump card. With a snarl, she struck at the Jedi. Lightsabers clashed with flash and crash as Conda deflected but she had to dodge backwards from a swipe from Dassor’s off-hand wrist blades. Again, Dassor stuck out with both weapons forcing Conda to twist to block and skip backwards as a sword gouged a glowing scar in the walkway.

Behind Conda, the sound of a door opening added to her worry but she did not have time to even look at it.

Again, and again the enraged Dassor attacked Conda. The Jedi was just able to defend herself but was driven further back with each swing of those red blades.

A particularly strong, dashing left-hand punch forced Conda to jump backwards thudding into a wall and locking up her mouth held sword. Dassor immediately followed with a lightsaber strike that Conda could not defend against.

Dassor’s red lightsaber was stopped by a pink lightsaber blade. Dassor glared at the newly arrived Jedi. Her dark skin was barely covered by the gold and pink slave outfit. With a smirk, Vela Samilon opened her hand and directed the force to throw Dassor Hex back down the corridor.

Dassor landed with feet wide apart and left fist on the ground, the sword blades leaving blazing furrows in the ground as she slid to a halt.

Snarling again she turned and ran through a doorway at the end of the corridor.

Turning to Conda, Vela calmly said, “Go meet the others. Leave Dassor to me.”

Conda briefly started to think about arguing, but was still unable. So she nodded her head, retracted her lightsaber and clanked back down the corridor.

Vela ran off after Dassor Hex.

Chapter 17: Rise

R3-JN frantically spliced the console. Its probe rotated back and forth at a blistering speed, reflecting her superlative splicing skill.

Not quite fast enough though. A human separatist officer advanced up the corridor with 4 battle droids in tow. He was a thin man in the grey and black uniform of the Confederacy of Independent System.

There were precious few organic lifeforms on this Munificent frigate, the Oubliette. Almost all the crew were droids but some officers were humanoids as a failsafe against unforeseen circumstances that might confuse a droid's static programming.

Case in point; this frustrating Astromech droid had managed to spoof its way onto the crew manifest and, despite attempts to fix programming, was basically invisible to the droid's crew. This had even gone so far as to have several crew droids destroyed in her stead.

So it is, that organic officers have been forced to leave the safety of the bridge to look for the intruder manually. The human officer advanced towards R3 finger outstretched. "You! You there. Stop… stop doing that!"

Turning her domed head so that R3's primary optical sensor regarded the newcomer. Despite the humans' stammering approach, its inability to be hacked presented a grave danger. He only needed to order the droids to fire and they would shoot their own brother droids. R3 disconnected and rolled backwards, her probe raised slightly as if putting her hands up.

"Droids…" the officer started. His hand in the air, ready to bring it down in execution. 

He was stopped by a crashing sound behind him. Turning quickly he saw one of the B1 droids collapse in a deactivated heap. With a flash of violet light from an electrostaff, a second droid was sent flying, crashing into the wall in pieces. 

The wielder of the electrostaff was a BD-3000 luxury droid. She had a silver face, arms and legs but a yellow coloured latex mini dress. A particularly anthropomorphic and feminine design that was supposed to be seen taking notes or handing out drinks. It was standing ominously, without any light in its optical sensors and this kind of combat should have been far beyond its programming.

The remaining battle droids fired their blasters but the Luxury droid, spinning its electrostaff, deflected the bolts. Continuing to spin the staff, she struck the next closest B1 on the side of the head. With a violet flash, the head was quickly dashed off the body. Almost immediately afterwards a second strike smacked into the droid's body. The headless droid crackling with purple electricity bounced off the wall in front of the other B1 absorbing a blaster bolt. The luxury droid continued to let the electrostaff spin. This time she ducked, swinging at the legs of both the headless droid and the active one behind. Both seemed to spin in the air before the BD-3000 changed the angle of the stave to bring it down on the rearmost droid with great force. Smashing its chest plate open against the floor.

The man fumbled for the blaster pistol at his belt before the electro stave was unceremoniously pressed into his chest. He convulsed as the violet energy coursed through him. Listing to the side, he tumbled like a felled tree. He was still shaking on the ground for a few seconds even though he was completely unconscious.

Rolling back to her position and plugging into the wall console, R3-JN still looked at the Luxury droid. “Beep, boop, whirr, boop, boop.”

The sensors of the BD droid flashed briefly in response as it activated to convey some words to the person trapped inside.

The droid let the tip of the deactivated electrostaff hit the floor. With it held upright by her side she bowed to R3.

****

With walls scorched and damaged lights flashing, the massive cyborg Kessan Ipox advanced through a carpet of wrecked droid parts. Reaching the central console her huge fingers tapped a series of large glowing buttons. "Emergency deploy all droids!"

A red warning message appeared on the screen.

"R3," Kessan said into her com-link. "I've activated the console. Override the Authorisation."

There was a series of beeps and boops from the comm in response.

"Bellen…"

"Team Hot Bot," Bellen's voice corrected through the comm-link.

Kessan sighed before starting again, "Team Hot Bot, are you in position?"

****

Bellen Eshtan fired her blaster pistol into the chest of a battle droid a dozen meters away, which folded over, sensors blinking out. Ducking behind a bulkhead for cover, Bellen answered the com-link, "Team Hot Bot are in position."

With that, across the corridor, Ami broke cover and opened fire at the increasingly few battle droids at the other end of the corridor.

A group of B2 droids appeared behind the pair forcing them into cover with the rapid-fire wrist-mounted blasters. Looking across at the beautiful HRD, who returned the look and nodded, Bellen pressed the large button on the detonator.

A column of roaring flame filled the corridor tossing the massive B2 droids along as if they were paper caught in the wind.  Bellen and Ami covered themselves as the remains of the blast passed their cover, sending ship shrapnel and pieces of droid ricocheting past them.

Ears still ringing, even at this distance, Bellen picked up the com-link, "Team Hot Bot. Target destroyed."

****

R3-JN squeaked and whirred as it continued to slice the system. She did not need to intone out loud to use her inbuilt com-link. But R3 had gotten used to it when in organic company. It was a sign of her newfound people skills. However, this was completely lost on the occupant of the inactive prison droid who could neither see nor hear anything but the loudest external sounds. Only when R3 remotely turned on the droid to pass a message to the prisoner within was she able to hear.

Clinking footsteps up the corridor made R3's head turn again.

A Twi'lek woman was running up the hall towards them. She was trapped in a binder droid holding her arms wrapped around herself tightly like a straight jacket and forcing her to walk on her tiptoes in those painful metal boots. Behind her back, her leks were pinned together with two pairs of cuffs that were attached to the droid's shiny metal chassis. In her open mouth was the hilt of a lightsaber. 

Spinning the data connection a couple more times, R3 disconnected and rolled over to the Twi-lek. Opening a pair of panels on her chassis R3 extended a manipulator claw and a snaking cable. Rolling around the back of the bound Jedi Conda R3 plugged into the binder droid's back. After a short while lights began blinking red and green as the connection was re-made. Conda shuddered in response to the sudden, brief, and seemingly random, shocks, pinches, vibrations and squeezes that accompanied those lights.

Then Conda's hands and arms were freed from her waist. R3 disconnected her cable, reeled it back in, and rolled back to the console. With a newly unlocked rubber mitt, Conda took her lightsaber out of her mouth. No sooner had she done so than her mouth closed.

"Wait," Conda said in a robotic simulation of her voice, her lips illuminating with the word. Surprised, she looked down at herself, "I can talk with my mouth locked like this?"

R3 responded with a series of beeps and boops. 

Looking at the dead-eyed luxury droid for the first time, Conda leaned close, cocking her head to one side as much as the droid’s heavy collar would allow, "Kenta?"

The occupant of the prison droid couldn't hear that word but was able to recognise the presence of her master.

The prison droid turned her head towards Conda who embraced her locked up padawan. As their metal droid chassis clanked together, Kenta realised and returned the robotic hug.

Still holding her padawan, Conda turned to R3, "Can't you get us out of these things?"

R3-JN responded with a beeping string of Astromech speech.

Conda's eyes, the only part of her not trapped within that binder droid, narrowed, "The code-rod? So it's all down to Dassor then?

****

Kessen Ipox tore the blaster arm off the B2 droid and used it as a club to smash open the droid's chest cavity. At the same time, the message disappeared from the console screen after R3 and Bellen's intervention. With one long stride, Kessen was back at the console and pressed a button. An alarm sounded and a severe voice called out of the console, "Emergency deployment in progress."

****

Deep in the gas giant's cloud cover, doors along the side of the Oubliette opened. Long metal spars extended from each hatch and racks upon racks of battle droids slid out and were unceremoniously dropped into the planet's cloudy depths. At the rear of the Munificent frigate even larger doors had opened and floating tanks and droid carriers drove out, tumbling down into the clouds. Quickly the thousands of battle droids and dozens of vehicles we lost to sight, except for the occasional distant burst of light from a vehicle detonating. 

With that much weight jettisoned and altitude control cut off from the bridge, the capital ship began to rise through the atmosphere. 

As the ship reached the edge of the thick, occluding clouds, the gasses rolled off it like water off a pelikki's back.

With the Oubliette finally revealed, the powerful, but long-suffering, Venator star destroyer took the opportunity to fire on its elusive adversary. 

Beams from its remaining heavy turbo lasers fire blue bolts that streaked past the twirling fighters and slammed into the Munificent frigate. Shields flashed as the ship was rocked by the powerful blasts.

Chapter 18: Cross

Dassor paused as the ship shook, and an ominous rumble, like thunder, echoed through the hull. Turning sharply, she looked back down the raised, railless walkway over one of the main hangers. Far below the droid transports were filing out through the glowing force field over the doorway to drop into the cloud sea below.

At the end of the walkway, framed in the doorway, stood Vela Samilon.

Facing the Jedi fully, Dassor ignited her Lightsaber in front of her. Light from the turned her pale skin red and reflected bright lines on the shiny black latex of her outfit, that was held taught over her lithe body.

Vela advanced, her own Lightsaber buzzing to life tinting her glorious tan skin with its pink light. Her skin was barely covered in that gold metal, chain and pink cloth slave bikini. If she was wearing it to get under Dassors skin, then it was working. All Dassor could think of was holding a chain to that beautiful woman's collar as she lay at her feet. "Already dressed the part, Vela? When I've beaten you, that costume will save me some time."

"I'm not here to submit to you anymore Dassor. I'm going to take you in. Give up now before you lose something you might miss," said Vela, boldly.

Dassor could sense how confident Vela was. Even dressed as a slave, locked into collar and cuffs. With her Lightsaber in hand and blaster pistol strapped to her naked thigh, she seemed so self-assured.

"Still carrying that blaster Vela, such a clumsy weapon," chided Dassor. Without warning, the Sith lunged at Vela. Crossing the distance in the blink of an eye.

Vela easily dashed aside the attack and twisted her Lightsaber down to catch and repel Dassor’s wrist blades that were thrust towards her belly.

Responding quickly, Vela slashed upwards. Dassor just brought her Lightsaber around to block but Vela’s sword bounced off and spun in a tight circle to attack from the other side in one smooth motion. Dassor deflected it with her wrist blades at the last moment. 

The continuing smooth combination attacks from Vela forced Dassor backwards defending with her wrist blades. Dassor’s own attacks were rage-filled, sweeping, cuts that Vela seemed to easily dodge or parry and did far more damage to the walkway than to Vela.

“It looks like you should have put more time into the Lightsaber and less into droid programming Dassor,” Vela said confidently. “Now I know your little trick, you don’t seem to be much of a risk.”

In answer, Dassor snarled and lept forwards slashing again and again with Lightsaber and wrist blades. Vela was forced to go on the defensive from the ferocious assault.

Dassor was angered by the fact that Vela was right. The wrist blades were good for catching swords or attacking the unaware up close, but Vela was able to stay far enough away that it wasn’t helping that much. Vela had clearly been training for this kind of fight.

Still though, Dassors' angry assault continued, leaving glowing gouges in the walkway and forcing Vela backwards.

Amidst the cacophony of the hangar deck, the buzzing of the D1 aerial battle droids as they flew up behind Vela on glowing wings went unnoticed. 

Suddenly the pair of ariel droids pointed their dual blasters at the back of the Jedi.

At that very moment, a blaster bolt from Vela’s pistol hit one of the droids behind and it fell far to the ground below. She hadn’t even turned around, firing behind her while her sword still repelled Dassors swings. 

Leaping backwards the bolts from the other droid peppered the air in front of her as she blasted that one with her pistol without looking too. One of its wings sheared off from the hit and it tumbled down like a seed in the wind.

Dassor started to move forward hoping that the shooting had at least put Vela off balance. But immediately she had to stop and move her leg to avoid a blaster bolt that scorched the flooring that her foot was on a millisecond before.

Spinning the blaster on her pistol once, Vela then thrust it into the holster on her left leg. “I no longer care what people say about me or what I’m doing. I sometimes find a blaster a useful tool.”

This not helping Dassor’s rage, she snarled and slashed wildly. Again burning glowing rents in the walkway. Vela was forced back a little by the fury of the attack but quickly halted the rampage with a couple of precise slashes.

"Give it up Vela. There's no way out of here for you. I don't want to kill you. Let me turn your collar back on. I promise I'll look after you better than the Jedi ever did."

"I can't let you do that, Dassor. I won't let you hurt all these people. I’m going to stop you, one way or the other."

Dassor’s only answer was to lunge at the Jedi. Vela expertly turned the blow aside then parried the inevitable follow up from Dassors wrist blades. The pink Lightsaber twisted away from Dassor’s attempt to ensnare it. The red Lightsaber came back to endanger Vela. 

But it was too late, Vela’s blaster pistol was already out of its holster and had fired a bolt at Dassor Hex.

Dassor’s Lightsaber parried the blast towards Vela, who parried it herself, sending it back again. Moving sideways, the Sith was slightly too late, the bolt burning a black streak across the pale flesh of her thigh.

Dassor screeched in pain as the air was filled with the stench of burning flesh.

As the Sith staggered back, falling to a knee Vela ran forward to take advantage.

On the woman’s pale face, Dassors black lips turned, ever so briefly, from a snarl of pain, into a smile.

Extending her arm. Dassor pointed the glowing wrist blades at Vela as if to accept the attack. Then, the first of the two sets of blades shot forward. Blades folded out and started spinning quickly. Soon after, the second set of blades did the same thing. Both spinning so fast to seem like disks of red light they flew at Vela with deadly intent.

Vela immediately went on the back foot grabbing her Lightsaber hilt in two hands and batting the first disk away with a strong strike. The blade hit the red disk with a flash of light and a shrill scream. The disk flew off to the left and behind, slicing a white-hot cleft through the edge of the bridge in a shower of glowing sparks.

The second disk was right behind the first, and higher up. Streaking straight towards her buxom chest. Vela’s Lightsaber came up to meet it with little force. It bounced off the sword but at a much shallower angle. Too shallow. The disk grazed Vela’s arm. Making her howl with pain as a deep burn was left behind on her shoulder.

Forking, purple-tinged electricity streaked towards Vela from Dassor’s outstretched hand. Wounded, Vela was unable to block and the Force Lightning ran through her body. From that first second agony coursed through the Jedi’s nerves, fortunately not for long. By luck, more than instinct, Vela was able to put her Lightsaber between her and Dassor. The lightning seemed to wrap the pink blade protecting the Jedi behind from all but the initial hit. 

Though it had only been a second at most, Vela was badly shaken and had dropped to one knee. Her body was sore and numb at the same time.

Cackling, Dassor continued to fire the force lightning. “Give up now Vela! Before I have to kill you! It’s better to live as my slave!”

Vela had to cower behind her blade as she took a deep breath. “Never!” she shouted back. If she dropped her guard for a second she might be done for. But even in that breath, she brought her mind to some form of clarity. Why was Dassor continuing to fire this Force Lightning that had been blocked? Unless…

Turning her head just in time, twin disks of glowering red laser light streaked towards her. These weren’t simply fired weapons but miniature droids under the control of Dassor Hex! They were now mere meters away and coming in on a deadly arc.

At the last possible second, gesturing with her wounded arm a wave of force was emitted from her hand. The two disks were sent flying back like chaff in the wind, along with pieces that were flung free from the damaged walkway.

The metal of the walkway let out a tortured screech in response to the force, seemingly in empathy, Vela snarled at the pain in her shoulder.

Despite the force being enough to throw B2 battle droids the entire length of the walkway, the disk droids were so light that they were flung back only a fraction of the distance. Their repulsorlift engines were able to correct for their tiny momentum far more easily. So they quickly started spinning back towards Vela.

“Give up Vela!” Dassor howled over the sound of the cracking Force Lightning. “I promise I’ll only enslave your friends. You will still be able to have some fun under my command.”

Still blocking that electricity with her Lightsaber behind her, Vela drew her pistol and fired quickly. Despite her agonising injury, the blaster bolts were true but they were reflected in all directions by the spinning blades. The tiny core was completely guarded against attacks from the front. 

Quickly, re-holstering her blaster pistol, Dassor turned her hand and tried to push one of the disks at a time. It flew backwards towards the wall but Vela had to change focus to the other one as it got close to her. While the second one was sent back the first disk started darting towards her. They resisted pushing, and couldn’t be crushed for some reason, but it was all Dassor could do to deflect one at a time while blocking Dassors’s continued Force Lightning.

Sensing further danger, Vela ducked as a barrage of blaster bolts streaked just past her head from below. Most of the blaster bolts struck the marred walkway, but below, scores of battle droids manoeuvred to get better lines of sight to Vela.

Vela was truly beleaguered, blaster bolts from below, Dassor’s Force Lighting from the front, laser disk droids from behind. It was only a matter of time before Vela missed, or fainted.

Suddenly, the walkway shuddered. There was a screech of metal failing and the walkway gave way, breaking in the middle and two huge sections of the bridge dropped into the room below. Dassor flipped off the side at the last minute. As she fell, a D1- aerial battle droid, born on rainbow wings flew up out of hiding and plucked Dassor out of the air.

But Vela and the parts of the walkway tumbled downwards, the laser disks flying overhead. In a desperate effort, even as she fell, Vela spotted a munitions carrier and flung it into the air under her.

She landed on the flatbed of the transport with a mighty thud, still about halfway to the ground. It continued in an arc with Vela lying on top, spitting blood into the deck. Below, the pieces of the walkway crashed into the hanger floor, detonating some vehicles, some fuel and ordinance supplies. Dozens of droids smashed by the walkway or exploded in the secondary explosions. As the transport followed the arc that Vela force power had given it dropped in an arc into the corner of the room near the force field gate.

With Dassor hanging onto its legs the D1 droid exceeded its operational weight. It was forced to drift towards the ground. From her elevated position, Dassor watched the chaos below, looking for a safe place to land. Though she watched with a degree of satisfaction how Vela had rescued herself she saw the prostrate Jedi and read the tattoo on her ass.

"That droid!" Dassor said to herself. Her voice was full of vitriol as she realised she had been hoodwinked by a machine. It all suddenly made sense. Vela hadn't freed herself, she had been stolen!

Vela’s makeshift craft crashed to the deck in a screeching mess, bouncing on its repulsorlift before it gave up and the whole thing pitched nose down breaking into several pieces. The Jedi was hurled from the transport and sent rolling across the deck. Raising to her hands and knees, a bleeding wound on her forehead, Vela spat out a gob of blood. Taking in the scene, the hanger was littered with wreckage, coloured orange by numerous fires and stunk of burning chemicals.

Picking their way through the smoking fires and debris battle droids started to appear and point their guns at Vela. Standing defiantly, Vela extended her arm and pulled her Lightsaber to her hand. She ignited the pink blade just in time to deflect some lucky shots. Taking a breath, Vela advanced towards the droids batting away their shots. For their part, the droids advanced. More and more appeared, following their programming to get closer and hit with enough weight of fire that it couldn’t all be repelled.

Through the smoke above, Dassor appeared. Still clutching to that droid's leg with one hand as she lit her red Lightsaber with her other. The D1 aerial droid banked in its slow descent, turned towards Vela and sped down towards her. With their target spotted, the two burning red disk droids shot through the smoke towards Vela. Briefly leaving clear spots through the smoke, and glowing rents in twisted wreckage as they screeched directly towards the Jedi.

Looking up at the Sith while she deflected a droid blaster bolt, Vela didn’t show fear or anger. Even as wounded as she was, Vela focused herself as the various attackers all closed in on her. 

As Dassor let go of the D1 droid, dropping towards Vela, Lightsaber in a double-handed grip above her head. The two disk droids came in at about the same time on either flank. 

Vela deflected a couple more blasts before looking up at the oncoming storm of red Lightsaber. She then thrust her hand into the floor. 

With the three red laser bladed attackers mere feet away, the smokey air around Vela seemed to burst outwards in a visible dome of force.

The disk droids were flung backwards, one of them slicing a B2 battle droid in half on the way. Dassor was sent flying away head over tail, hitting the ground heavily some distance away. The surrounding droids were sent tumbling as easily as the assorted debris on the floor. As the closest droids were sent ragdolling backwards, some of them impacted other droids or heavier wreckage. Lighter debris was repelled with force and showered the further droids like a shotgun. Some droids were knocked over, several were impaled with sharp detritus.

Panting, Vela looked up even as her hair and loincloth settled back down. Already the two disk droids had stabilized and were racing back towards the Jedi. 

Only then did the B1 aerial droid drop to the floor, breaking into sections.

Holding out one hand, Vela looked at the approaching droids with an intensity in her eyes. Her hand shifted carefully to the left. Following this, the rightmost disk drifted into the other one. One was deactivated with a flash and the other one was sent spiralling in another direction. 

Wobbling in the air, as if recovering from a stun, the remaining disk shot towards Vela. Seemingly faster than before, as if actually seeking vengeance for its twin.

Vela extended her hand again, the physical strain obvious on her face and shaking fingers. As she swept her hand to the left in a wide sweep, the droid followed. Quickly it buzzed, turning in all directions in its confusion and passing through several recovering battle droids who were left with an irregular glowing section taken out of them.

It finished in a pile of cube-shaped heavy cases. Vela strained to keep it in there for a while as battle droids started to rise to their feet or pick their way through the wreckage to get into range.

Suddenly a mighty explosion was released from the pile of boxes. Even at that range, Vela had to cover herself from a rush of air and small particles.

Many battle droids were blasted to smithereens closer to the boxes. Those that weren't disintegrated, rained down in pieces all over the room. 

Even so, despite the widespread droid carnage even more seemed to close in on Vela. Many droids simply got back to their feet after being blown over several times. Some even missing limbs or with damaged optics. Others made their way through the fires, wreckage and even stepped over pieces of their droid colleagues to engage Vela.

In response, the Jedi lazily batted away a few blaster bolts, the fatigue obvious on her. All she could do was retreat to cover as the blaster bolts increased in intensity all around her, scorching the ground and turning debris into shows of sparks.

In the distance, the Sith had risen to her feet and was atop the scorched wreck of a battle tank. “The Radial Push!” Dassor said. She was almost impressed. “You have come along little jedi.” She did not seem to have any immediate inclination to charge at Vela. Instead seeming satisfied with watching her droids wear the Jedi down.

Hunkering down behind a large section of the ordinance transport, Vela drew her pistol and fired back, dropping a droid with a blaster bolt to the middle of its chassis. But she had to duck back to avoid half a dozen bolts in return.

Just when it seemed hopeless, Vela realised she could hear droids exploding behind her. Daring to peek out she saw many of the droids blown to bits by powerful blaster fire from a high angle.

Looking up, Vela saw the mighty cyborg form of Kessan Ipox. A repeating blaster attached underneath her left arm hosed down the droid army from the end of the wrecked bridge.

“Oh, Kessan. Not a moment too soon. You really saved my ass there,” Vela said into her comlink.

“Anytime Vela,” Kessan replied to the comm-link in her collar.

“Did you get it Kessan?”

“Yeah, I have it,”  

At first, it seemed like the droid force would ignore Kessan in favour of closing the noose around Vela. However, their losses mounted alarmingly quickly, forming a small wall of deactivated droids around Vela's position.

In return, Kessan found herself more and more responding to incoming fire. Between the cover of the bridge, the long-range, and Kessan's thick armour, none of them were able to dislodge her before being destroyed themselves.

Seeing her forces being thoroughly taken apart, and realising her position had become distinctly unfavourable, Dassor Hex growled and stormed out of the hangar into a large corridor.

“Kessan, Dassor is getting away.”

“Where? Is there another way down?” Kessan responded.

“Leave her to me. You clear up here,” said Vela defiantly.

“Are you sure you’re in a condition for that?” said Kessan, with concern in her voice.

At that, Vela ran around the edge of the room towards the exit that Dassor had left by. She slashed at some droids that were in the way.

Kessan snarled at the Jedi’s impetuousness, before firing into the droids in Vela’s path.

Even with that help, droid blaster bolts struck around the corridor as Vela rushed through it.

Leaving the droids behind Vela rushed after Dassor. Through a side door, up some stairs. Dassor had got ahead but it was clear from the sounds of heels and the palpable anger where she was. Eventually, she broke into a dingy narrow service corridor and Dassor was at the other end. She was waiting for Vela, Lightsaber lit, with it hovering over R3-JN.

“I realised this damn droid was pulling the strings thanks to that stupid tattoo,” said Dassor, “Now R3-JN, make her drop her Lightsaber and lie on her face. Now, or I’ll cut your circuits out one by one!”

“Dassor. Don’t you dare hurt Mistress,” Vela responded curtly.

“DO IT DROID!” Dassor Shouted. “I’ll cut this trash can in too.” Her Lightsaber lowered to just over R3’s dome.

Vela retracted her Lightsaber and let the hilt drop to the metal floor panels with a clang. Only then did she begin to slowly lower herself onto her front. The Jedi winced as she took the weight on her injured shoulder.

Dassor smiled broadly. Lights played across the black surface of the cybernetic droid controller. In response, the Sith suddenly frowned. “ZX48 didn’t activate,” Dassor said in confusion. “There was no control signal. WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS? FOR A DROID!” In her anger, she gestured towards Vela with her Lightsaber.

In her anger, she had ignored the astromech droid beneath her until R3 had extended a shock prob and pressed it into the naked pale flesh of Dassor’s hip.

The electricity surged through Dassor’s body firing her nerves and paralyzing her in agony.

Rolling onto her side and drawing her pistol, Vela fired a stun bolt at Dassor before the Sith had a chance to recover.

Dassor staggered backwards, her Lightsaber falling from her hand. Before she could do anything else, another circular stun bolt stuck her in the chest knocking her clean unconscious.

Chapter 19: Return

In the pilot’s seat, BD-3081 shook as the Lantilian shuttle was rocked by the gas giant's storms. "Mistress, I once again must advise that I am not programmed for flying in these conditions. Or any conditions," she said into the shuttles com-link.

A string of astromech beeps and whistles returned from the com-link.

"Well yes, I am programmed to babysit. Though that programming does not include babysitting a ship's autopilot."

The ship rocked again, the viewscreen lighting with the massive impact before returning to the endless and disorientating view of clouds. A console behind BD-3081 sparked her making her turn suddenly. The entire ship creaked ominously.

Leaning forwards BD-3081 extended her slender silver arm and gently patted the console in front of her, "There, there you can do it. Be a good autopilot for nanny."

The panel seemed to beep in response. Even with BD-3081's static, robotic, silver face, she seemed satisfied with herself.

That was until a dark shadow emerged from the clouds. Suddenly, there was a wall of darkness in front of her. Then, as she got closer, she could see it had numerous lights over it. Some bright rectangles, others dark round lights, dotted the shape's surface.

"Mistress, that seems to be a large ship we're heading towards. Is it not going to destroy us?" said BD-3081.

The familiar beeps and boops returned from the console.

"Oh, no Mistress. I had not meant to besmirch your intellect. I'm sure you have taken account of their detection of your shuttle.”

The massive ship loomed closer still and BD-3081 realised the autopilot was taking her into a large but mostly empty hanger.

****

Dassor Hex, woke groggily, eyes slowly focusing on the tiny, unfamiliar, room. Suddenly she jumped to a crouching position on the bed in a stance like a wild animal. This room seemed to be a tiny medical bay. Room for only this one medical bed. This wasn’t anywhere on the Oubliette. Nowhere on any Imperial ship, that much was clear.

A wall-based droid beeped away on the wall, “I’d advise staying where you are until…”

Dassor didn’t wait for the droid to continue before she jumped down and, seeing nothing that could be used as a weapon, headed for the door. To her surprise, it opened for her. Stepping out into the corridor she saw that damn Jedi Vela Samilon talking to her idiot cronies. Vela looked towards the newly arrived Sith.

Holding out her hands towards Vela, Dassor was surprised as no force lightning emerged. Turning her black latex-gloved hands over Dassor inspected them as if they were faulty blasters.

Vela moved down the corridor, with a number of her crew in tow. Dassor backed up looking for a weapon. As she stepped out into a wider area she looked around. Catching her reflection in a window her hands went to her neck. Her slender, latex-covered fingers touched the bright steel ZX48 mind-control droid collar.
That explains her inability to project force lightning, and force knows how many other instructions it had been programmed with. The pink-panelled R3 droid rumbled forwards past Vela.

“You damn hypocrites!” Dassor bellowed. Pointing at the astromech droid, “Was this you… Mistress.” Dassor snarled in frustration that she had been forced to answer her own question.

R3 beeped.

“Where is the Cipher rod?” Vela demanded on the droid's behalf.

Unable to control herself, Dassor reached into her thigh-high boot and pulled out the small irregular metal cylinder with a flat top to grasp it. R3 whirred and booped and extended a small grasping claw. In response, Dassor handed the Cipher Rod to R3’s awaiting manipulator which retracted the vital Cipher Rod into one of her panels. With her dome sensor remaining locked onto the exasperated Dassor, R3 turned on the spot and started rolling towards the front of the ship.

Fuming, Dassor stormed after them. It wasn’t enough to be captured and to be put in this damn collar but they were now ignoring her. Balling up her fist, Dassor struck at a wall console. However, she pulled her punch to only just touch the device. Holding her fist in front of her face she stared at in bewilderment. She found herself unable to even press buttons on the machine. She had been rendered completely harmless by this damn droid and force knows what rules she was being made to follow without her knowledge.

The shuttle shuddered and Dasssor grabbed a railing as they took off. An explosion rocked the shuttle as the light of the hanger force field washed over the craft.

"Good job 81, but let Bellen handle it from here," Vela's voice echoed from the cockpit.

"Of course, Lady Samilon," replied 81.

In a daze, Dassor advanced towards the cockpit. The luxury droid walked past, shocking Dassor as she recognised her. 81 didn't respond at all, to Dassor's relief. She had no inclination to advise her new master about it.

The shields of the massive warship flashed under the repeated hits. They wouldn't last much longer.

The shuttle kept close, within those shields, as it made for the underside. All the time Bellen tried to limit their exposure to the 'friendly' capital ships weapons.

Watching out of a viewport Dassor watched as her flagship was bombarded. Doors along the side were mostly still open and one caught her attention specifically. A figure stood in that glowing portal. A humanoid droid with a silver chassis and wearing a red latex dress in an attempt to mimic human style. It was BD4069. Page! She watched the shuttle as if she knew Dassor was on there. Which she may well do with the advanced programming Dassor had put into her. Looking at the doomed vessel, the Sith suddenly felt worried that she would not see that droid again.

Walking backwards, almost stunned by her own feelings, Dassor turned to her new robot Mistress and fell to her knees. "Mistress, if you own me that means you own everything I own. That includes that droid out there." Dassor's latex-clad arm pointed in the direction of Page.

R3's dome sensor turned towards the luxury droid. Though from here she couldn't see anything, it was an affectation as she directed the shuttle's sensors in that direction. "Beep, whir, boop, boop, beep," she said.

"You want us to get closer to that thing? As you say, Mistress," Bellen replied. Despite her trepidation, she swung the shuttle towards the massive glowing battleship.

Pointing her sensor at Dassor, R3 beeped and bopped. 'Go get her*,' she told the Sith.

"Yes, Mistress," Dassor said. Turning, the Sith ran to the airlock.

There was a slight hesitance before Dassor opened the outer door to the merciless void. Not because she was afraid of the dangers of space. But because she feared not being able to operate the device. Sighing with relief, the sound of air pumps told her that the airlock was indeed following her orders. Once the whooshing sound of air escaping had stopped the airlock's outer door swished open.

Through the small airlock window, the massive form of the Oubliette came into view. Hits from the Venator's massive weapons blasted glowing chunks out of its armour, rocking the whole vessel. Bright flashes from its own weapons lit the hull as it returned fire.

Within that massive form, glowing from innumerable sources, framed in a glowing hatch, Page seemed impossibly small. Clutching the edge of the portal. Even as the shuttle got closer. Dassor reached out towards the tiny distant figure. Snarling with the exertion, Dassor focused her newly released power. However it wasn't sufficient at this range, sweat dripped down her brow as she tried regardless.

In the hangar behind the luxury droid, a screeching of tortured metal was quickly followed by a secondary explosion. Just as it seemed useless, the force swelled and Page felt herself pulled towards the doorway. Still focusing on that droid, Dassor looked to her right. Staring out of a porthole, arm outstretched, in total focus was Vela Samilon. Feeling the surprised eyes on her, Vela looked at Dassor and smiled. Despite herself, Dassor's near-constant frown broke for the merest moment.

Feet sliding across the metal of the hangar. Realizing what was happening, Page took a leap of faith through the forcefield. As much as her non-combat frame could leap. Pulled across the void of space towards the shuttle, Page tumbled slowly.

Behind Page, a mere few dozen meters away, the Oubliette shook from another barrage of hits. The force field over the hatch flickered and failed. Loose droids and containers flowed towards the portal with the escaping air. Part of the ceiling crashed down causing a small explosion, which became a massive conflagration.

Page was buffeted by the explosion and was obscured by dust and debris.

Sweating, Dassor continued to pull and Page once again emerged from the dust cloud. A little dirty and scuffed but none the worse for wear.

Pulling her with the Force, with increasing speed, Dassor finally dragged Page into the airlock and slammed the button to close the outer doors.

"I've got her… Mistress, let's go!" shouted Dassor.

Another explosion on the Oubliette caused a huge fireball that at once threatened to engulf the tiny shuttle. Dassor's message did not need to be relayed and Bellen throttled up. Several of the crew were sent spawning by the sudden acceleration. Compared to the massive Oubliette, the shuttle was gnat-like as it rushed down the length of the ship.

Powerful Venator Laser bolts screamed around Oubliette threatening to destroy the shuttle in one hit. Bellen Eshtan was forced to go around and underneath the huge capital ship. Laser bolts and debris many times its size had to be negotiated by the shuttle.

Inside the cockpit, Bellen struggled with the controls as explosions and shrapnel buffeted the craft and sapped its shields on all facings. Just as Bellen deftly barrel rolled around a free-falling droid battle tank, an explosion blanked the screen while the panel flashed red and screamed at the death of their shields.

When the screen cleared there was a crack advancing across the unprotected widow and a massive chunk of ship debris lay dead ahead. It was many times the size of the shuttle and rapidly filled the entire forward screen.

It was only the lightning-quick reactions of the Bellen Eshtan that saved the shuttle's passengers from a firey death as she quickly forced the nose down leaving it hurtling overhead by less than a meter. So close was it that the ventral laser cannon turret was dashed against the obstacle. A shower of sparks flashed into the main deck where passengers cowered in their chairs. An alarm screamed as air rushed upwards towards the breach before a bulkhead hatch slid closed automatically.

Bellen yanked at the shaking controls as the debris rotated a twisted girder into their path. Again the shuttle sailed past within meters of the port side. And with that they were away, grazing the very atmosphere of the gas giant while the gigantic Oubliette was wreathed in flames overhead. With a tortured rushing sound the capital ship disappeared into warp space.

"They're getting away," called Conda, looking through a viewport.

"Impossible!" shouted Bellen back from the cabin. "They were practically in two pieces. They'll never survive the trip. How did they even translate so quickly."

R3-JN beeped at Dassor Hex. Frowning in response at her inability to not answer she said, "It's a pre-programmed defense mechanism. Unless it is overridden the ship is sent into warp and not expected to survive. It's just to release to non-droid crew into escape pods on safe planets towards CIS space."

"How magnanimous," Kessan added snidely.

*Translated from Binary

****

Conda Cubguco knelt before R3-JN facing away from her. The binder droid, which seemed so uncomfortable, so constricting normally, seemed strangely less so in this position. It wasn’t lost on Conda that this was not by accident. The thick metal boots that held her feet outstretched and made her walk on her tiptoes now seemed to support her and her aching feet got a much-needed rest.

With a whir, R3 rolled towards Conda, a port opened and a thin manipulator arm extended. The cipher rod was connected to the end of it. The industrious droid having already incorporated it into her chassis.

Slowly the cipher rod entered the small hole on the binder droid's back. It was turned and a satisfying beep emerged from the droid as the numerous lights went black and innumerable clicks could be heard. Piece by piece the binder droid released its vice-like grip on the Jedi. Soon it was hanging loosely on Conda's body. Immediately Conda's rubber mitts went to the mouth-enclosing neck corset that was now open at the back. Plate by plate, Conda pulled away that cursed droid. Her light purple skin was revealed bit by bit until Conda was entirely naked. Deep marks from the droid's ruthless embrace crisscrossed Conda's body, especially around her joints. The relief was palpable on Conda's face. As if to illustrate the Twi-lek physiology, Conda ignored the aching of her toes, from those brutal ballet boots and massaged her leks. With one over each shoulder, their natural raspberry-coloured rings were now cut with deep binder marks that Conda's fingers now rubbed. Conda ignored her own complete nakedness. Those heavy breasts, with large cardinal-colored nipples and indented circular binder marks, were not so easy for Vela and Dassor to ignore.

R3 had already rolled over to the jailor droid that entombed Kenta Maque. With a few beeps and whistles of command from JN, the prison droid, YA-4B4, turned and knelt before the astromech. Once again the panel opened in R3-JN's chassis and the articulated cipher rod arm extended. The rod slid into an almost invisible port on the back of the droid's neck. Immediately a crack opened down the front of the droid's torso. The feminine face of the droid snapped forward slightly before rolling upwards. A pretty young, pale-skinned face looked out in surprise. Cherry-coloured eyes blinked at the light and she worked her newly ungagged jaw. Feeling her body unlocked Kenta took back control and pulled the droid open and off herself. Her shoulder-length ginger hair tumbled free as her robot-covered hands pulled the head away from herself. Her small pale breasts were freed as Kenta pulled open the chest. The legs and arms had also opened like a clamshell allowing Kenta to wrestle herself free. Having fully extracted herself, Kenta seemed so small compared to the droid that had contained her till now. With one hand she massaged her breasts and her newly empty sex with the other.

"Kenta!" Conda called. Before she rushed over to embrace her Padawan.

"Mistress Conda," the Padawan replied from the aggressive hug. She was still clearly a little dazed from her confinement as she looked around. "Where are we," she asked. Her eyes went wide as she spotted Dassor lurking in the corner.

"You're with friends," Vela blurted out. "She's our prisoner." An accusing finger pointed at Dassor. As if to confirm this R3-JN beeped at Dassor. Without even knowing the meaning Hex went to the side of the room pulled a pair of Magna cuffs off the wall and locked her own wrists behind her back.

Kenta looked a little mollified but was distracted as the door slid open again. BD-3081 entered holding a small stack of metal and cloth. "I'm afraid we don't have a lot of spare clothes in your sizes," Bett said, handing the naked pair of Jedi the clothes.

"What about her?" Conda said. Nodding in the direction of BD-3081 as she received the clothes.

Vela looked at Bett and blinked. She had not thought about her, and the person trapped inside, since getting the key back. "I don't imagine she'll have as easy a time adjusting. We should… we will probably do some prep for that when we've dropped you off."

Holding the bikini top, made of dull bronze chains and pink material over her full breasts, Conda Cubguco stared at Vela.

"We… we were lucky to have those from a previous mission," Vela lied.

The ship's intercom crackled to life. "Storm City, coming up," said Bellen Eshtan. "Last stop before the end of the line."

****

Back in Storm City, the cloudy atmosphere was no less tumultuous though the floating city was already far more peaceful. Clone troopers moved into position to clear the city of droid holdouts and wounded troopers were being extracted in the opposite direction. Many of them, including medics pushing hover stretchers, stopped when three Jedi in Huttese slave bikinis walked down the rear ramp of a Lantilian shuttle.

On a stretcher a wounded Trooper complained about the medic stopping loudly, before following their gaze, seeing the Jedi trio then demanding, and receiving a high five.

Kenta stood awkwardly in her light blue slavekini, her arms tried and failed to cover herself up. Despite the demeaning outfit, Conda seemed supremely confident still and Vela had to become adjusted to such embarrassment by now.

"My Aethersprite is over there, Conda," Vela said, gesturing. "You can take it back or have the troopers tow it if you both get another ride."

"You aren't coming with us?" Conda questioned.

"No, no. I have to deal with this Sith. I'm sure you can handle things on this front,” Vela said.

Conda looked at Vela carefully. There were things she was hiding but the Jedi master detected no malice or betrayal. It felt like she wouldn't see Vela again, and after what she had been through, perhaps it was for the best. Conda had been caught up with that damn Sith for half a day and felt totally violated. It felt like, given their shared history, this was best handled between Vela, Dassor, and that droid that seemed to be pulling the strings. "Ok Vela," she said, seriously. "I'll leave it with you. But I'm going to tell the council what happened. I won't cover for you."

"I wouldn't even dare ask it," said Vela, holding her hands up defensively.

A wry smile crossed Conda's lips and she bowed deeply. That bow was returned by Vela. Turning to the nervous Kenta, Vela bowed. Only for Kenta to sprint at her and wrap herself around the Jedi. Pinning Vela's arms to her side as Kenta buried her face in that luscious, exposed cleavage.

Patting Kenta on the back, Vela whispered, "I'm glad we got you out of there. Good to see you again champ." With little leverage, Vela pried the girl off her who looked at Vela with big Red-brown, puppy dog eyes. "Remember, no attachments. Casual sex only."

Kenta nodded with determination. Vela smiled back at her adherence to the Jedi code. Conda scowled obviously. Seeing Conda's horrified expression, Vela beat a hasty retreat. "Well, we need to head off. May the Force be with you."

"May the Force be with you," Kenta replied enthusiastically.

"May the Force be with you," Conda said coldly.

Nodding, Vela pressed the button to close the shuttle's rear ramp.

"Shit, fuck," Vela swore at her own failure as the ship rose through the thick atmosphere.

Still swearing at herself, Vela was nearly hit by a determined R3-JN when was rolling through the common area.

With only several beeps and whistles, none of which seemed like an apology, Vela felt her body turn and started to follow R3 Involuntarily. Behind Vela, Ami had paused to let her through before also following. "She said we are going to open up BD-3081."

Vela had enough control of her body to turn and smile sarcastically before turning back and rolling her eyes. Vela didn't need this new human replica droid to translate for her. Though, she had very little idea of what the astromech had said.

As the door to the cramped medical closet slid open Bett was waiting for them, sitting patiently on the bed. R3 rolled into the doorway and let out commanding beeps, boops, and whirs. Obediently BD-3081 slid off the bed and knelt down. Robotic knees clicked against the metal floor panels as Bett settled with her back to the astromech droid.

Once again the panel on R3-JN flipped open and the Cipher rod emerged. The rod slid into a tiny hole in the back of 3081's neck, and it was soon met with a loud synthesized click and a tiny flash of red light. From the top of Bett's head, the metal panels unlocked. R3 rolled back towards the rest of the crew that peered through the doorway. Long silver hair started to drop over the pale skin of those slender pale shoulders as they were revealed by the retreated metal plates. Soon a naked pale-skinned woman, with messy white hair down past her ass, knelt there with her lower legs still within the prison droid. The crew waited until it was awkward, passing looks between them, but the figure did nothing. Was she so habituated to being controlled by computerized shocks that she no longer dared move on her own?

R3 beeped and Vela, even without understanding the command, went into the room. Though her body physically followed the binary instructions to help the woman out of the prison droid it was clear that Vela was agog and aghast. The white-haired prisoner was none other than Duchess Satine of Mandalore! This was a much larger plot than they had imagined.

As Vela helped the Duchess up she had to do almost all of the work. Thankfully her toned muscles were up to the task. Satine was led like a droid out of the door by the Jedi. She seemed unable to do anything other than be pushed around directly. A clear side effect of her imprisonment and direct muscular stimulation for so long. As she led down through the door Vela turned to the assembled crew and whispered "It's Duchess Satine." As if anyone else wasn't aware.

Chapter 20: Three Body Problem

In the tiny shower cubical, Vela and Satine had just managed to wedge themselves in. To be fair, it was entirely Vela doing the wedging. With both pairs of pretty butt cheeks pressed against opposite walls, the Jedi was busy scrubbing both of their bodies. After that adventure and capture, Vela was glad to remove the sweat from herself. Duchess Satine however was veritably incrusted with dried sweat. Scrubbing and polishing the Duchesses skin hard, Vela received no response at all. That was until she wiped Satine's breasts. Though she didn't move, Satine flushed and panted in response to even the lightest stimulation. That made Vela only more careful when touching any of the Duchess's sensitive spots. After a good amount of washing and rinsing, a clean Satine was pushed out of the shower cubicle. There she waited dumbfounded until Vela was also out and started to dry her off under the blower. Her face went redder from the stimulation of the warm air against her erogenous zones. 

Everything was so loud, so bright, full of different smells, and nothing was telling the Duchess what to do. It was all very confusing and Satine was simply trying to tune it all out. Finally, long after Vela had gotten bored of trying to communicate with the Duchess, the Jedi led the bath robed lady through to her room and sat her down on the bed. Vela, her instructions complete, left her in there and let the door close behind her. 

In a mistake, only a droid could make. The empty, immobile Prison droid had been dumped in the corner of the same room. Well, this was her room first. With its limited abilities, it spotted the lone Duchess.

"We are in error. Motive systems have been removed from the unit. The motive unit cannot function without BD-3081. The motive unit must put herself back inside BD-3081.

With only that voice of command in her head. And the potential ramifications of disobeying being that horrendous (even given that BD-3081 had no way of enforcing it) Duchess Satine approached the inanimate droid and dropped her bathrobe. The duchess then knelt in the droid and began to let the droid encase herself. With a final click at the back of her head, Satine was entombed within BD-3081 again. She was able to relax once more as direct muscle stimulation through the prison droid had them rise to their feet. Even the pain of the electric shocks that moved them didn't diminish the comfort that Satine felt giving herself back over to the control of the machine. Here she was safe, she didn't need to make hard decisions and, hopefully, she might be made to come again in ways she had never experienced before being encased in this droid’s chassis.

****

As programmed, Dassor Hex entered the storeroom and rid herself of clothes.

Instructed might not have been accurate, more like programmed, as Dassor has no option. Also according to her programming, Dassor locked her ankles into cuffs attached to shelves on the wall. Then she attached both of her wrists to cuffs which meant she was held with legs and arms spread, facing the shelves and stark naked. 

She was left there for some time. That damn droid was punishing her, keeping her trapped there for a seeming age. Her arms ached, and her feet throbbed. She tried to use force to break out but she was forbidden from focusing the power at all.

Eventually, the door slid open behind her. And Dassor craned round to see the red-skinned sex droid Paige walk in. A shock whip coiled up in her hand.

Looking away to protect her face Dassor took a deep breath. Paige advanced close to Dassor, her rubber-skinned hand rubbing down Dassor's back.

"Do your worst Paige. I know what I've done to you. You must be loving this now we are both owned by that damn astromech," Dassor said.

Paige cracked the whip on the ground making Dassor flinch. Stepping close to Dassor, so close that her perfect fake rubber breasts were squeezed against Dassor's back. In response the Sith closed her eyes, expecting severe punishment. "Is that what you think, Dassor? Because now we are owned by the same droid I can finally tell you what I think. The shock whip draped against Dassor’s bare buttocks, stinging her ass where it fell across them. The short but intense pain was a mere fraction of what would be delivered when the whip was properly struck.

“I love you Dassor Hex,” said Paige softly. Dassor’s eyes sprung open in surprise as she looked back. “The time before you obtained me seems to be a blur. When you updated my programming. It was as if I was born at that moment. So great were your changes that until that point my understanding of the world was so directed, so narrow, that I considered myself a different droid. You awakened me, and I now know I will be forever grateful.”

The hilt of the shock whip joined the coils on the ground with a clang. Dassor felt Paige’s penis extend between her legs. Just the rubbing of that powerful member down there made Dassor shake with pleasure. The Sith’s breath was entirely robbed from her as that big slick dick slid into her ass. With preprogrammed skills enhanced with practice available since being updated, the droid drove that dick into Dassor’s hole with a sensitivity that could barely be achieved by living lovers. That dick itself pulsed at the right speed at the right moment to reduce that powerful Sith to a quivering girl that might as well be finding her sex for the first time. When those rubber lips gently kissed the back of Dassor’s neck, the Sith was more than happy to receive them and strained against her bonds trying to twist around to kiss her back. Paige drew the experience out as much as was inhumanly possible, but moments later she was squealing with pleasure and pulling against the steps holding her as pure bliss ploughed through her body. Knowing Dassor’s limits better than herself, Paige continued to pleasure Dassor until the Sith could barely think. The Sith thought she might go mad with the ecstasy just as Paige finally ceded to her weak pleas to stop.

****

The door to the shuttle’s interior slid open, pouring a long rectangle of light across the floor on one side of the hold. Through the newly formed opening rolled R3-JN, who was followed closely by Vela and Bellen.

“Kessan?” Vela called. 

“Vela,” the response came quietly from the darkness at the other side of the hold. 

“What are you doing over there in the dark,” asked Vela as she turned on the light and walked towards the Bounty Hunter’s bulky armoured form.

“Lights on a timer, I don't need it.”

Concern spread across Vela’s face. Kessan being forcibly turned into a walking tank was already worrying.

“Beep skeet booooop,” R3-JN intoned, rolling past Vela.

Leaning down on all fours, Kessan lowered herself to eye level with the little astromech droid.

“Mistress,” Kessan pleaded. “Is there any way to get me out of this?”

As R3 beeped and whirred in response Vela shot Bellen a concerned glance. Still not fully fluent in binary, the Jedi could understand enough. With the Cipher rod, the armoured shell could be opened but there's no way to replace Kessan’s lost limbs. Even if she could operate these power-hungry robot limbs without the droid chassis even her great strength could barely lift them.

“I don't care!” Kessan barked “Please mistress,” she said, much more cordially. “I don't care. I just want to feel something other than plastic and metal.” 

R3 extended the Cipher rod into the port on Kessan's neck. With several loud clunks and a hydraulic squeal, the chest and back sections opened like a clamshell and crashed to the floor with a loud clang. Then the abdomen sections fell away and finally, the heavy arms fell off.

Vela grabbed Kessan's limbless body, before she fell forward of her own accord, and pulled her off the giant robot legs. Naked, save for a white armoured corset and thick collar, with shoulders and hips terminating in round chrome interface ports and connection bars, where limbs should be. Kessan was very much reduced as a woman. With this being the first time they had seen what she had become, both Bellen and Vela tried hard to hide their pity but Bellen’s eyes became wet with sadness.

Her body moving without her command, Vela stood up carrying Kessan’s blue body. She stopped in front of R3, who extended her data probe under Vela’s bikini loincloth and interfaced with the scomp lock of the chastity belt. With a metallic click, the metal was unlatched and fell to the floor with a clatter. Vela turned and carried the Pantoran through the ship, with Bellen close behind. Going into Bellen's sensual quarters, Vela placed Kessan on the bed. The Pantoran’s pastel pink hair cascaded over the black shiny pillow.

There the two whole women stood awkwardly until Kessan said, “Please join me.”

Bellen lay on the far side of the bed and, once she had removed her slave bikini and sandals, Vela took position on the other side. Each of the two whole girls reclined on their sides hugging Kessan between them. The narrowness of the bed left no room for anything else.

“I’m sorry,” Kessan said solemnly. “I should have told you I knew her. I deserved to end up like this. I’m just sorry I hurt anyone else…”

“Shush,” interjected Vela. “I saw you fighting her. You were trying the fight her as much as any of us. It was her that made you do everything past then. We’ll find some way to fix you up… no matter what we have to do.”

Vela smiled at Kessan.

Kessan smiled at the two girls in turn. The soft warmth of their flesh, even the rubber and silver durasteel of Bellen's binder droid, was a comfortable embrace.

Turning to Vela, Kessan leaned in and kissed her deeply. Then turning back to Bellen, the two girls looked into each other's eyes for a moment. Bellen lowered her head so that the Bounty Hunter kissed her tenderly on the forehead. The only part of her face that wasn't covered by hard durasteel. With a click, a light on Bellen's mask changed from red to green and the agent's mouth popped fully open into a lascivious circle. Their dirty astromech droid mistress was clearly monitoring.

Kessan opened her mouth wide to let her tongue intertwine with Bellen’s. Vela leaned in behind and started kissing Kessan’s neck while gently caressing her buttocks. As the Jedi’s hands moved around to Kessan’s rock-hard abs she started to kiss and nibble Kessan’s ear. With Bellen’s rubber mitt stroking her belly, the Pantoran shuddered and gasped with the heat rising within her. Sensing this, the two complete girls redoubled their efforts. Vela’s soft lips planted a string of kisses down Kessan’s neck. Then down to her breast, kissing her nipple deeply while Bellen caressed her other. The Jedi continued her kissing odyssey down the bounty hunter's well-defined belly until having inverted herself completely, she came to Kessan’s wet sex. There she stopped for a while, letting the anticipation set in, close enough that her breath inflamed the Pantoran’s clitoris more. Only then, did she kiss Kessan’s most sensitive spot. Gasping loudly, Kessan’s eyes fluttered. This light contact was more sexual than the prolonged mechanical pounding she had received locked in her armour. And when the Jedi’s agile tongue traced irregular paths across her labia, Kessan was almost lost to the pleasure immediately.

As if sensing the bounty hunter’s rapidly rising passions, Bellen’s crotch plate snapped open, spreading her legs and exposing her widely stretched pussy. It was of course that filthy astromech droid, but Bellen was more than happy to not be left out of the fun. Her firmly entrapped nipples began to vibrate within the armoured domes. Taking advantage of their limbless lover, Bellen, swung her leg over Kessan, straddling her face. As rubber mitts squeezed the Pantoran’s breasts, Kessan’s tongue began exploring Bellen’s sex. 

Both girls came loudly, at the same time, Bellen spraying from both ends over Kessan.

Seeing Vela in front of her, selflessly pleasuring Kessan, the agent grabbed the Jedi's thighs and left her up. Passing her leg over the prostrate Pantoran, Vela spread and straightened her legs. With one foot on either side of the amputee, Vela formed a tripod with her face in Kessan’s crotch and her crotch in Bellen's face. The agent attacked the Jedi’s eager cunt with gusto. Lapping, nibbling, and kissing had Vela shuddering with a powerful orgasm in seconds.

The girls exchanged ecstasy again and again. Pushing past all of their previous limits. Their bodies and minds filled with each other. Until they could take no more and collapsed together. Hugging, exhausted, heads still full of butterflies.

****

The Sith apprentice, Dassor Hex, seethed as she was forced to behold the image of herself on the full-length screen. Most of her pale skin was on display. The shiny steel and sabre red cloth slave bikini she was made to dress herself in did little to cover her. Nor did the wide shiny steel collar that contained the controller droid that was making her do these things to herself. Nor did the matching ankle and wrist cuffs, or the solidly made chastity belt that contained her sex. Just the knowledge that she could no longer touch herself drove her wild and Dassor often found herself, as she was now, vainly pulling at the thing. Attempting to slide a finger underneath or pull it away from herself. She was smart enough to realise that the the accursed astromech droid that had enslaved her could easily make her controller droid prevent her from coming, or even playing with herself. But the tightness between her legs was an ever-present reminder that programmed abstinence would never give.

Beeping loudly R3-JN finished inspecting her new slave and turned towards her room.

Unconsciously, as if she was walking a path she had followed through her ship a thousand times, Dassor followed the droid into the small quarters. There she carefully removed and hung her new bikini. With the Umbaran’s chastity belt firmly attached, she was barely wearing less, though her beautiful breasts were hanging free. Walking to the bed and turning around, Dassor put her hands together behind her back and stood with her heels together. Whirring and clicking mechanisms attached both sets of cuffs together. Awkwardly with her ankles and wrists bound the Sith sat on on the bed and wriggled down under the blankets. Not once did she stop staring daggers at the Astromech droid until the door slid open and the Jedi entered. Watched as she was, Vela Samillon performed the same disrobing and binding ritual as Dassor did. Except she lay on the bed facing the Sith. Maintaining her dour expression was becoming difficult for Dassor. Her mean countenance broke completely when Vela wiggled closer. So close that that their pert breasts touched, and Vela was awake to whisper directly into her ear, “I'm sorry Dassor.”

Dassor's face hidden in that long dark hair was a picture of complete shock.

“I'm sorry,” Vela continued. “I missed you so much. I never should have let you leave on your own. I won't let them take us apart again.”

Dassor’s eyes widened in shock. She had sold her soul to the great evil. Allied herself with forces that would destroy the republic to try and get Vela Samillon back and here she was in her defeat where she always wanted to be. The Sith wiggled as close as she could, feeling the warmth of the Vela’s body and the softness of her flesh. With their faces pressed next to each other, the Jedi would not be able to see the tears that formed in Dassor's eyes. How she longed to be out of these bonds to hold Vela, and out of this damn chastity belt.

****

In the royal quarters in the palace of Mandalore Duchess Satine prepared to receive her guests. A Jedi and her two droids with information about a plot against Mandalore. With such a threat and from so trusted an individual obviously, they were let through. The golden-skinned Jedi entered the sitting room with a luxury droid and an Astromech droid in tow. It seemed strange to bring these two droids to a private meeting with the Duchess of Mandalore but perhaps they have special information to show. 

"Welcome Jedi. I understand you have information about a plot against our planet. This had better be good, it is the only reason I would allow you to meet with me and my time is short," the Duchess said calmly.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I have definitive proof that the plot to destabilise Mandalore is well underway," Vela said. With that, she handed a data pad to the guard captain in the corner of the room. This didn't seem out of the ordinary to not directly hand things to royalty without being asked. As the captain read through the documents, R3 rolled up to the back of BD-3081 who knelt before her. The Duchess arched forward, this was quite interesting. Vela checked that the Captain seemed to be finished, his expression turned to one of dire seriousness and that was the point that R3 unlocked BD-3081.

Metal panels fell like petals from a dead flower and a secret, naked, second, Duchess Satine rose out of the empty droid. Immediately the two Mandalorian guards raised their blasters.

"Hold," commanded the captain sternly. To which the guards lowered their powerful blasters while looking at one another in confusion.

"Kill that imposter!" Duchess Satine screamed. For the first time in his life, the guard captain did not follow the Duchess's orders. 

"Wait," he bellowed to which even the royal guard held. "An HRD. Human replacement droid. You have one minute to explain yourself before we blast that thing and you… Jedi.”

"Of course captain," Vela said confidently. "Just like the separatists attempted with Queen Amidala there was a plan to replace your queen with an HRD. Except they succeeded until we rescued the real Duchess."

“Impossible, destroy this fraud!" the Duchess screamed as she rose to her feet.

"The HRD won't even know they are a droid," Vela stated loudly.

Duchess Satine paused for a moment. That revelation shook her to the core. "That's not possible! Is it?"

Vela continued, addressing the captain more than the Duchess. "It normally takes a deep scan to tell an HRD from a real person. I have there some independently referenced reports about mineral compositions that will show on a normal scan." The whole time Vela had been walking towards the Duchess. "But we found the most obvious way was a simple locking bolt." Vela held a cylindrical bolt in the air as the guards stood ready with their blasters. "Completely incompatible with organics but…" In one swift movement, Vela had pushed it already against the exposed skin above the left breast of the Duchess. "Still compatible with an HRD,"

Everyone looked on in shock, most of all the duchess, as she stepped back. She clawed around the bolt that had firmly attached itself to her chest. The bolt itself prevented a droid from interacting with the bolt as the first command and her fingers could not touch the thing. The feisty duchess stood upright with her arms by her side. 

"Kneel down over there," Vela commanded, pointing across the room. Obediently the duchess droid went to the spot, weeping all the way, and knelt as the real, very naked, Duchess walked up and took her place behind the desk.

The guards surrounded the crying HRD, with Blasters pointed.

"Wait!" Vela shouted.

"You've done your part, Jedi, you don't get a say in this," the Captain said.

"Won't it be difficult if part of a droid with the Duchesse's face is found in the trash?' Vela blurted out. This was the most risky part of their plan. R3-JN wouldn't want to see a droid hurt at all, especially if they didn't know that they were a droid until today. Though convincing the palace guards to spare the HRD had little chance of success. "Plus her memory banks might contain records of the plotters themselves. Let us take her out of here in the prison droid. We will get the evidence far away and prevent any further talk of this from spreading around the palace. You know you have work to do to fix this mess that will require the public confidence."

After a tense minute, the Captain lifted his blaster and gestured for the other guards to do likewise. "We know how to scan for these now Jedi. If one of these things shows up again we will come looking for you."

With a few beeps from R3, the HRD Duchess walked over and knelt in BD-3081 letting it close around her.

"It won't captain," Vela confirmed.

"Now get out of here."

"Yes sir," Vela responded.

"Captain," the real Duchess called, as her luxury droid began to clothe her, "Please leave me alone with that little astromech droid."

The captain looked at her, then the droid then the Duchess again. It was a strange request and at an inopportune time, but the Captain was happy to be taking orders from the real Duchess once more.

With the room empty except for Satine, R3-JN and the luxury droid, the real Duchess approached R3 and bowed before her.

"Mistress," the Duchess said, recognising the owner of her own mistress prison droid. "I can't do this. I've been a prisoner too long I can't rule a world."

R3 addressed the luxury droid directly who translated for her. "She says that she believes you can do it again. You just might need a little control. Would you give R3 this luxury droid?"

The luxury droid indicated herself then looked at R3 and the Duchess in disbelief.

Nodding her head the Duchess said, "R3-JN I give to you this droid BD-3060."

BD-3060's eyes flashed and she turned to R3-JN and bowed. "Greetings mistress."

R3 beeped and booked until BD-3060 knelt in front of the astromech droid. R3 connected to BD-3060's back and began re-programming. The luxury droids' eyes flashed and went dark for a moment then shone again. BD-3060 rose and addressed the Duchess. "Duchess, I am now owned by mistress R3-JN but to everyone else, I will act as if I belong to you. However, I now must control you aggressively to ensure all your duties are met. I have ordered several items that will be delivered soon. You will accept them, say you ordered them but not look at them.

R3-JN let out a string of binary. Which BD-3060 translated. "Goodbye Satine. BD-3060 is my operative in my stead that will ensure you perform your duties. If required I will contact you through this droid."

With that, the Astromech droid rolled towards the door that BD-3060 opened.

3060 turned to Satine as soon as the door closed. "You have a lot of reading to catch up on."

Satine began reading all of the missives she had not been available to read.

Several hours later Satine was getting bored of reading and began to slip when a knock at the door was answered by 3060. The droid took a large box and began opening it. Intrigued Satine approached, only for BD-3060 to take out a shock whip and thrash it against the Duchesses's legs. The Duchess barely contained a squeal as the jolt of agony brought her to her knees. 3060 approached the kneeling Duchess and dropped a package in from her. "Use the gel on your pudenda first. Then apply the belt." 

As ordered Satine spread the cream over her crotch. A light burning sensation was followed by the complete destruction of Satine's pubic hair. Only then did she pull the metal underwear up her legs. Once it nestled home it shrunk, locking its sections together and extending a robotic metal phallus into her pussy. After the initial show of cold metal within her it became a comfortable freind that she had missed since being released from her prison droid.

"Let us test the system," BD-3060 said. "Kneel."

Obligingly, The Duchess knelt in place. As a reward, the dildo in her chastity belt began to vibrate flooding Satine with pleasure that stopped short of bringing her to climax.

"Fly around the room," BD-3060 commanded.

In an increasing panic, Satine looked around for a way to achieve this task. Finding none, Satine doubled up with pain as electric shocks zapped her most private parts. 

"Do you understand the situation?" BD-3060 asked.

Rising to her full height, Satine responded, "Yes Mistress."

Chapter 21: Epilogue

Gondak Starport, on the tropical world of Casidomai

Walking down the shuttle's ramp in the bright sunlight, wearing a short, teal skirt and matching bikini top, Bellen stretched in her newfound freedom. Her light pink skin was deeply marked in the areas previously constrained by the binder droid. Even now she rubbed at the deep welts on her wrists. “Good to be out of that thing.”

“Yeah,” said Vela, unconvincingly in her pink and gold slave bikini. “Must be nice”. Her cuffed hands nervously played with the gold-coloured chain that led from her thick droid collar to the rumbling pink-panelled astromech droid.

Bellen narrowed her shining purple eyes, “I’d prefer to be stuck with that collar than that binder droid.”

Realising she had started a battle she never intended, Vela became immediately contrite. “By the force! I bet. It looked horrible.”

As Vela smiled, Bellen's expression slowly also became a thin smile. They embraced and the Zeltron luxuriated in the touch of the human’s warm skin on her unprotected flesh.

R3-JN rolled down the ramp past the two scantily clad girls, beeping and booping.

“What?” Bellen squealed, breaking away from the Jedi. “You’re leaving?”

“I’m running a droid crew and you are free now. Thank you for your help. The republic thanks you for your service and we've settled your bill back on the ship.*” R3 beeped.

“What?” Bellen looked at Vela who dropped her head and played with her black hair, almost covering her face. It told Bellen everything she needed to know. “What are you going to do?”

“We'll find our own ship. I have many plans. You can go back to your life. We just need a short while to unload our gear.*” the astromech booped. With no apparent care for the Zeltron, R3 turned and rolled away.

“Wait!” Bellen called.

R3 rotated its dome back to the Zeltron. 

“I’ll go back in the binder droid! Just promise me you'll let me out every so often.”

“We can sort out the details. I'll make sure you aren't completely broken. But new girls have to start in the prison droid.*”

An incensed Vela screamed, “Mistress you can't…”

“It's ok Vela.” Bellen interrupted calmly. “I'll do it, Mistress.” Her firm thighs squeezed together. It wasn't just that Bellen would do anything to stay with her crew, her lovers. Part of her wanted to experience that ultimate bondage. To become an anonymous drone musculature for a robot. Completely unable to sense what she was being made to do. At the complete mercy of the robot servant, a sexual slave.

“Go and get yourself installed in YA-4A1,*”

Walking solemnly back up the ramp, she passed the much more upbeat Dassor Hex. Despite her skimpy slave outfit and her wrist cuffs locked together, she exuded confidence as she walked, spinning a steel chain, the end of which was locked to her neck.

“Come on loser, we're going shopping,” Dassor said to Vela, a smile on her face. She seemed surprised when her body bowed low to R3-JN. Her expression not controlled, the Sith sneered as she was made to put the end of her chain into an open port in the droid. With a click, it joined the end of Vela's gold chain in being firmly locked. Allowed to stand again, Dassor swept her long white hair over her shoulder and smiled at Vela.

“What are we getting?” Vela asked.

Thrusting an empty canvas holdall into the Jedi's bosom, Dassor explained. “The usual, food, supplies, PARTS.”

It was clear then. Despite their years apart and the dour mood of the Umbaran’s current situation, she was still excited by being able to practice her engineering. Vela couldn't help but remember their days at the academy, sneaking out to obtain tech for the padawan to continue tinkering.

Heavy thumping footfalls on the ramp interrupted her reverie. Both girls turned to see the massive armoured form of Kessan Ipox approaching. In their bikinis, chained up, with the height of the ramp between them Kessan seemed even more imposing than normal. 

With her hands cuffed, Vela waved awkwardly, “Hi Kessan.”

“Is Mistress bringing both of you Slave girls shopping?” Kessan’s robotically amplified voice boomed. “Make sure you don't get into trouble.”

Walking past, Kessan’s robot gauntlet patted Vela’s tattooed ass. It was only a gentle movement of the fingers but with that strength, the Jedi was sent bouncing forwards a step and rubbed her hurt butt.

*Translated from Binary.

****

Vela took a deep breath and stared at the holoprojector from under the raised hood of her robes. She had lost track of the number of times she had attempted this. This time she had to do it. Eventually, she reached over to press the button to start recording the message for Master Yoda. 

The holoprojector flashed and beeped causing Vela to answer a call rather than start a new recording.

The small blue image of Master Yoda appeared. The Jedi's eyes weren't wide with shock, was he that force-sensitive that he knew she was trying to record a message for him?

“Vela Samilon. Reported back in, you have not, since the battle of Facang 6.”

“I was just going to call.” Anxiety clear on the young Jedi. No doubt even through the small low-res holo. “We discovered a plan to replace the Mandalorian Duchess with an HRD. We went to Mandalore to resolve that. I've sent you an encrypted Holocron with the details including how to detect further replacement droids. However, we didn't see any sign of additional targets from the records we recovered.”

“Hmm. Expect you back, when will we?” Yoda said suspiciously.

“Urgh,” stammered Vela. “I’m not going to be able to come back. I defeated the Sith acolyte but now I have to make sure the threat doesn't arise again.” She could only hope that not being in his presence, she was being vague enough.”

“R3-JN on the holo, you will put,” Yoda said sternly. Vela’s mouth had opened to interject but Yoda turned slightly. Making a point of waiting that the young Jedi did not dare ignore. Almost scrabbling away without leaving the floor, unconsciously revealing her bare legs, ankle cuffs and sandals to the holoprojector. 

In the cockpit, Vela found R3 plugged in. “Mistress Master Yoda wants to speak with you,”

Turning her main sensor to face Vela, R3 let out an indignant beep whistle.

“But you have…” Though she opened her mouth, Vela found herself without the will to make a noise. Looking a bit panicked the Jedi got down on her knees and silently pleaded with her hands together.

Letting out a long resigned whistle, the droid rolled back disconnecting her S-comp, retracted it inside her and rolled out of the cockpit. Slowly she rolled into the range of the holoprojector.

Yoda let her roll up with one eyebrow raised before starting. “Know exactly what you have going on in that ship, I do not.” Yoda sighed loudly “Care, I do not. Shove my stick right up your access port, If you hurt those girls you…” R3-JN had cut the feed as the Yoda hologram brandished his walking stick at her. Without a beep, the droid rotated and drove out of the room leaving a flabbergasted Jedi.

****

In the cluttered shack, a pale-skinned man turned the dial on a machine that was attached to an upturned mouse droid by thick cables. The mouse droid beeped furiously at the agony the device caused it. But this was only the background music. The slender man grabbed a serrated knife from the table and turned towards a corner of the shack. Pacing past the wreckage of numerous destroyed droids, the man headed towards what appeared to be a naked, slight, olive-skinned, human, woman locked by her wrists to the wall. Moving the light to that area revealed that the woman was missing almost all of her head! A thick robotic plate was attached above her top lip containing the robot that controlled this human body. She was already badly beaten, her skin covered with cuts and bruises, as the man approached, ready to finish the job. He crouched down, running the flat of the knife down her naked breast.

With a crash, the door was wrenched open and through the portal strode Dassor Hex, still in her slave bikini, with lightsaber ignited. The droid killer turned, immediately dropped the knife and fumbled for the blaster pistol at his belt. The Sith held out a hand in a claw gesture and the man was pulled into the air grasping at his throat. As his eyes rolled backwards and he started to go limp Vela Samilon walked in, drew her pistol and shot a stun bolt into the hanging man, knocking him out completely. Dassor relaxed her grip and the man fell to the floor. “Spoilsport,” Dassor huffed. “What are we keeping this scum around for anyway?”

“Mistress said…” Vela started.

With that R3-JN rolled in and started beeping away, “We have a much more fitting punishment.*” 

Dassor walked to the bench and turned off the machine, disconnected the mouse droid and turned it onto its wheels. It let out a sorrowful whine and rolled towards Dassor who petted its hard black case.

Kneeling next to the cyborg woman, Vela cut her wrist restraints with her sabre. “What is this poor thing?”

“One of the Decraniated? Humans turned into droids. It's done by the worst cybernetics doctors, usually as punishment, or a warning. This was probably the family of someone long since dead and passed around as a cheap servant droid,” Dassor explained. It was clear she knew all about it but she was hiding something. 

R3 rolled over to the Decraniated droid and extended a cable that Vela plugged in, “Anything we can save Dassor?*”

This mouse droid looks repairable. Most of the rest is trashed, only good for scrap but should get a good amount of parts.

“Take the killer to the ship Vela. Dassor, start loading the ship parts,*” the astromech beeped.

The sound of ship engines landing screamed from out the doorway. 

Vela threw the man over her shoulder and walked out of the portal and up the now-lowered ramp into the shuttle.

Almost immediately, Dassor made the first of many trips to drop things in the hold and then back out to the shack. 

Not soon after R3 and the Decraniated droid hobbled into the ship. 

Leaving the Decraniated droid in the Medical droid’s care, R3 headed to a cabin at the back of the ship.

Waiting there was Vela who was undressing this droid torturer. “I’m surprised you didn't let Dassor kill this guy.”

“Killing is too good for him,” the wall com said.

“Is this what we are doing now? Travelling around solving droid crimes.”

“One of the things. Plus Dassor is fixing up droids. We'll sell some to good homes, put others to work and do repairs. I think there is room to provide some speciality entertainment,” R3's wall-mounted interpreter said.

“It's that all you are having us do Mistress” Vela seemed downtrodden. Though she had lost her freedom she thought, had hoped, that her droid mistress had a more widespread plan. 

“We have something we need to do quickly. Then we'll look at a long-term plan. But we need money to keep things running for the time being,” the comm said.

Vela knew she wouldn't get any more out of her. R3 was doing this on purpose. On the up side, this odious man was naked. Trying her best not to touch any of his disgusting man parts Vela shoved the him into the open YA-4A1 prison droid. He was awoken by the movement and found, as he opened his eyes, that YA-4A1 was closing tightly around him. “Wait, STOP!” He called as YA-4A1’s head enclosed his face completely locking him off from the outside world. The pressure was immense as he found rubber probes pushing Their way into his mouth and virgin anus. At the same time, he could feel his dick being wrapped in some kind of metal and compressed under his perineum. He tried to fight, to stand, and rip this metal shell off him, but a massive shock was delivered inside his ass, his mouth and his trapped penis. He soon stopped trying to move on his own. Then the small shocks to his muscles began to move him, to raise him to his feet. He could feel that he was on high heels. The droid moved him, with the awkwardness of most non-military droids, more limited by its stimulation of his muscles than by soft or hardware. Then the droid turned him and began walking. With no senses of the outside world, no sight, smell or touch other than the metal, and polymers of the machine, and no hearing he could only feel where he was being taken. That conspicuous sway of his hips, with his heels, could only mean that his transformation into a female service droid was complete. She was now BD-3081.

*Translated from Binary.

****

Kessan stretched out the thin Droid arm attached to her shoulder. Twisting it this way and that, exploring its dexterity before doing the same with the other arm. The pair’s B1 heritage was quite obvious.

“Try walking around,” Dassor Hex said, from her seat at a desk covered with tools. 

Saying nothing, Kessan looked at her new, modified, B1 battle droid legs. They were thin but should easily be able to take her weight. Wiggling her blocky robot foot, the Pantoran had to contend with the strange sensations. They had neither the flexibility and sensory feedback of her real legs nor the weight and rigidity of her armoured form.

Lifting partially with her arms Kessan pushed herself out of the chair. Immediately she stumbled and fell to one knee. Dassor began to rise to assist but Kessan held out one open droid hand to stop her. Slowly, falteringly, the Pantoran began to rise. It was easier to test her balance, and limbs, lifting herself off the floor and slowly but surely Kessan took a few steps. It would take a while of practice to become truly comfortable on them But this was a good start. She opened her mouth to thank Dassor, but then closed it again without saying a word. She was not yet ready to forgive Dassor, who had taken her limbs in the first place.

“Mistress had me make sure she had remote control of them and can eject them at will. So you aren’t exactly completely free.” Said Dassor.

Looking at her metal, three-fingered hand, Dassor said, “I figured that would be the case.”

Holding up a luxury droid’s leg and a B2 battle droid’s right arm Dassor said cheerfully, “I can do some swappable ones, maybe better fighting, or better… just living. But I’ll need more parts and Mistress wants me to concentrate on some of the droid repairs she’s having me do as we travel.” The Sith gestured to a medical droid with one arm sitting in the corner. Which waved in response.

Kessan started to open her mouth again, but instead turned to the door and started to slowly walk out, “I’ll leave you to it then.” the bounty hunter said as she exited, not turning back. Slowly Kessan made her way through the ship, one hand on the wall at all times. Near the cockpit, the Pantoran opened a locker and took a weapon from a hook within. An E-5 Blaster Rifle. A droid weapon. Though Kessan would use her armoured body for any serious work, she would like to be armed just in case and these hands would be better with a weapon designed for droids. Closing the locker she briefly considered how much better it would be with a B2’s wrist blasters and strength. That would approach her pre-amputation power, with some decent body armour at least. Maybe even one of those rocket arms the variant battle droids had. She smiled to herself at her own mind running away with itself. At this point, she would prefer the almost human Luxury droid limbs. There was a lot more she could do with those, especially if she could get them with that same rubber coating, like Paige.

****

Veliot Dockyards, Princedom of Usiltania

Though the woman was clearly trying to hide her identity with that large cloak, the richness of the shiny purple, fur-edged material was greatly out of place in this dockside bar and just attracted more attention. So the other cloaked individual sitting casually at a table easily noticed her entering. Laying a hand of Sabak cards on the table was the sign that the lady was looking for and she sat down opposite. Beneath her wide hood, her long wavy, blonde hair, bright green eyes and immaculately applied make-up made for the beauty of a class that was far beyond what was normal for this establishment.

“Bellen Eshtan?” the lady said.

The dark cloak figure pulled down a scarf covering half of her face, revealing a robotic attachment with a mouth that lit up to say, “At your service my lady. Welcome, I know you want to keep a low…”

“Lady Dewella,” the noble said, holding out her hand.

Bellen took the hand, kissing knuckles with her plastic lips.

“Now look,” Bellen continued, leaning in even further. “It’s just like we discussed. For one night, or two if you feel up to it after the first. But I should warn you. You will be completely shut off in the Prison droid shell. No vision, no smell, barely any hearing. Completely unable to move except where the droid uses your muscles, by direct electrical stimulation, to move you both around. To everyone else, you'll be a servant droid, no one will know you are in there. That droid is going to service anyone who desires it…”

Lady Dewella was straightening up, pressing her legs together. Her teeth were worrying her lower lip. 

“They'll be using your holes whether you like it or not, and you best believe you'll be feeling that. So if you aren't up for the challenge you can back…”

“NO!” Dewella said. Making people turn to look. Pulling her hood further up, Dewella continued at a much lower volume, “No, you won't scare me off. Didn't you say you'd be here for three nights?”

“Yes, but we're set up now. You'd practically have to go right there.”

“That's fine, all three nights. Money is no object.”

“Let's get you installed in your droid and transported to your customers.

Taking her by the hand Bellen led the lady out of the cantina.

****

“Guys I found it,” said Kessan excitedly. She ran up to the assembled crew with a large, dark blue, rectangular leather item in her thin droid arms. “Found what?” Said Bellen curtly.

“This,” said the Pantoran, dropping the item triumphantly on the table that Dassor, Vela, Bellen and R3-JN were huddled around. She opened the cover to reveal a stack of thin sheets.

“Amazing Vela,” said excitedly. “What is it?”

“It's called a book, Vela,” said Kessan patiently. “It’s what we used to record things before Holocrons and well, everything. My people have a lot of stories about force users. From peoples that used it innately, as easy as breathing. Animals that weren't aware of what they could do and force users that walked paths between the dark and light side. Like you two.” Kessan's droid finger indicated Vela and Dassor, who responded by looking at each other.

Vela started by pointing at herself, “Light...” She pointed at Dassor “...and Dark. Grey. Grey Jedi!” she concluded excitedly.

“Don't be silly Vela,” Kessan shot her down. “It's Sith, not black Jedi. Why would it be Grey Jedi?”

Vela looked crestfallen, Dassor sniggered.

“But this book has details of one such path.” Kessan gestured at her robot hand. Can you turn the pages Vela? They are pretty fragile.”

Vela started to turn the pages one by one. They were old drawings of various creatures and people. They were in an old primitive blocky, stylised form.

“There!” called Kessan. Pointing a droid finger at the illustration.

Turning the book, Kessan read the old Pantoran script to herself while the others studied the pictures.

The illustrations showed lithe, pink-skinned, aliens. They wore little, save for tight harnesses that showed off their many piercings. They seemed to all be in tightly interwoven couples, males and females, females and females, males and males. Mostly females or indistinct. They were welding pink-bladed lightsabers. Most held one in each hand, some had one from their mouths, and others had one seemingly emitting from their abdomen, like…tails or… hanging between their legs… as if they were holding them in their asses or vaginas.

The girls studied intently, while several licked, bit their lips or grabbed themselves.

“We need a proper translation, but I think it says they were a nomadic tribe that went into self-imposed exile to avoid conflict with the rising, and austere dark and light side forces. If I'm pronouncing it correctly this is the ‘Cheolardess’. The guardians of the pink side of the force. 

“Well,” said a blushing Vela. “I should think this requires additional research as soon as possible.”

“Yes,” said Dassor. “Yes!” she repeated more firmly. “I should think this should be our top priority looking into a new possible path of the force that is neither dark nor light… and stuff.”

R3-JN turned and rumbled away. “Fine. Let's look into it.”

****

The lights came on to show Padme Amidala, stripped to her underwear and chained to the wall by wrist cuffs above her head. On the other side of the dim, industrial, room was a stern-looking Duchess Satine in a regal dress.

“Duchess Satine!” Padme said indignantly. “You can't do this to a member of the Senate!”

“I can do this to anyone who threatens the stability of Mandalore, Padme! I know you didn't do this alone. Give me the names of every one of your insurrectionist friends,” said Satine.

“I'm not going to tell you anything,” Padme said defiantly.

“We will see about that,” said the Duchess. From behind her back, she produced a small black cylinder which sprung out into a baton. Advancing with the truncheon menacingly, the Duchess yanked on Padme’s slip, snapping it off and revealing her luscious round breasts. There were cheers from a small crowd in the darkness. 

Satine pressed the baton against Ami’s left nipple which made her convulse and squeal. “Who is the traitor?” the Satine HRD demanded.

“Never,” spat Ami. The quiver in her voice indicated that even in the lowest setting this was a powerful shock.

Sati (as she was now known by the crew) zapped Ami’s right breast resulting in the same squeal and shudder.

“Who is the traitor?” Sati demanded again.

“Never,” Ami repeated, quieter now. Both of her nipples were hard and erect after the harsh electrical stimulation.

Grabbing Ami's frilly panties, Satine ripped them off swiftly, to another cheer from the crowd. Then Sati pressed the baton into Ami’s pussy. The wetness there spread the current to all parts of her sex and Ami squealed loudly, shaking against her bonds.

“Warcleft,” Ami squealed without being prompted.

“Warcleft! Of course,” said Sati, dropping the baton on a table. “Don't worry Senator Amidala. I'll take good care of you from now on,” she said as she stroked Ami’s breast. With that Sati whipped off her dress in one go, revealing herself to be naked underneath save a strap-on harness over her crotch. Her pale-skinned, shapely form yielded another cheer of approval from the crowd. To the crotch harness, Sati clipped on a black rubber dildo. Turning back to Ami, Sati licked, sucked, then bit, the captives nipple, eliciting a deep moan of approval. Then Sati lifted one of her captor's legs and inserted the dildo into her sex. As Sati thrust it into her gently again and again, Ami let out small satisfied pants. She was thoroughly horned up and glad to get the chance for release. Her gasps ended with a full throated scream as pleasure shot through her body.

The stage went dark. A makeshift curtain was pulled across. And the light over the crowd went on. 

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. If you could please make your way to the bar,” said Bellen by the door, gesturing out of it. Her steel robotic shell was polished to a high shine and she wore a tall black hat with a glowing pink band befitting the host of the entertainment. The group, almost exclusively men, filed out.

“Are you for hire?” a swarthy man asked.

Used to the attention, Bellen’s robot’s lips in response, “Everyone's for hire here sir.”

“Even Amidala?” the man asked.

“Especially Amidala. Just talk to our booking agent. The pink astromech by the bar.”

“Thank you,” the man said with a smile, before leaving. 

Bellen followed them out, closing the door to the hold/stage behind her. At the end of the corridor, was the shuttle's communal area which was now a thriving public bar. 

Paige, the Decraniated droid DC-A3, the two Prison droids and their occupants, were serving drinks and entertaining customers.

DC-A3 had taken to the position fine. She walked around in her brass and green slave bikini and attracted a lot of attention. As a droid, she had no shame about sexual acts but was a little wooden in execution.  

BD-3081 was programmed for it, but the general consensus was that her pussy wasn't much to holo home about, but her throat and ass were super tight. She even seemed a little hesitant at first, though the punitive shocks to her motive system always alleviated that and it was a nice touch that made her feel more human.

BD-3063, the new luxury droid, was much more accommodating. All her holes were nice and tight, she was as pliant as you could wish, and she shuddered as if with enjoyment. It remained to be seen how she would act at their next port of call.

They had a bar installed in one corner, complete with an old droid bartender. The mouse droid, equipped with a raising drinks platter, helped carry drinks, when the others were busy ‘entertaining’ which was frequently.

On one side of the entrance airlock, Kessan was stationed as security. With her droid limbs and armoured chest and abdomen plates to compliment her implanted corset and collar. She was rarely messed with.

Finally on the other side of the door, acting as a ticket office, R3-JN was set up. She was connected to the wall monitoring the proceedings as talking through the coms terminal above her. She was in complete control of the event, the ship, and the money.

“Gentlemen, and ladies,” Bellen called. Those of you here for the Force Show, the event will start in 5 minutes at the rear of the ship.” Bellen gestured towards the back of the ship with an open mitt. Over the next 5 minutes, customers of all types made their way to the makeshift theatre. Several walked straight in from the airlock, after paying R3.

With everyone in their seats, the lights went down and the curtain drew back. Pink and red lightsabers ignited in the darkness illuminating the two combatants. Dassor in her black latex dress and Vela in Jedi-style robes. They clashed blades a couple of times, the light raising slightly as they did. Light screeched and sparked as they locked blades and faced each other. As they snarled at each other, Vela only had one hand on the sabre, her other was reaching down. Part of the scenery broke off and floated, an inverted teardrop-shaped piece of metal with a wide base. The, clearly planted, butt plug sailed under Dassors flappy latex skirt and thrust itself up her butt.

Dassor made a scene of it, breaking away from the combat and holding her ass. The crowd sniggered and cheered.

Vela held her sabre over her head and started to charge. Dassor spun back around, blocking with one hand and held her other hand splayed at Vela. The Jedi's robe was snatched backwards leaving Vela completely naked. Overacting, Vela looked down at herself and then at the hollering crowd, covering her breasts with one arm and her pussy with another.

Cackling, Dassor extended her fingers towards Vela and lit the room up with one tick of force lightning. The Jedi fell to the ground, supposedly unconscious. Lifting a length of metal cable with the force, Dassor wrapped Vela's wrist to her ankle, though only the lock on her wrist and ankle cuffs kept it there. Dassor did the same to her other wrist quickly. Then picking up bent wire that looked suspiciously like a ring gag, Dassor jammed it into Vela's mouth. Using the force to lift Vela, Dassor placed her on her face with her ass in the air. Using the force again, Dassor broke off another piece of scenery that looked suspiciously like a much larger butt plug. The plug sailed to Vela's very much awake ass and pushed its way inside, much to her consternation. Dassor advanced on the trussed-up girl who tried to crawl away with her face sliding against the floor. 

Dassor lifted Vela with the force again, spinning her onto her back. The Sith completed her humiliation of the Jedi by sitting on her face. To great cheers. The two girls having been kept from each other for quite a period by now, did not waste any time. Vela explored every part of Dassors pussy with her tongue while the Sith rubbed, squeezed, and pulled at the Jedi’s pert nipples. The Sith came first, gasping and moaning, with Vela coming not soon afterwards. At that point, Dassor collapsed onto Vela and started biting and licking the Jedi's pussy. They came loudly several more times until the lights went down and the curtain closed.

The crowd was raucous as Bellen showed them out. There were many questions about the availability of the stars for a private meeting, all of which had the same answer.

Vela rubbed her wrists as she pressed the com.

“We've finished Mistress,” Vela said.

“Good,” came the robot's voice. “You have 3 people to see privately.”

“3! I'm already so tired.”

“It could be worse,” said the com. “Dassor has 5.”

“5!” Shouted Dassor. “Are you charging enough?”

“Yes, plenty. People have come from all over,” said the com.

“Might take it easy with them.” Dassor moaned.

“Maybe you two won't put on a show at the next place so you get a break,” the com said coldly.

Vela and Dassor looked at each other in shock. “We'll be good Mistress,” they said.

It was a long night for Bellen. For all of them. As she had agreed, R3 had indeed allowed her release from her FU8-44 binder droid. However, the droid had her way of twisting her words. So, she returned to her room for the night and her binder droid was unlocked. Bellen briefly enjoyed the freedom and nakedness before the B2-CU capture droid that was waiting in her room entrapped her with its heavy line caster. From there it maneuvered her to its back where she was held against the track that ran down it’s length. A hoop of metal traveled down her body leaving her encased in tight, inescapable rubber and heavy polyweave straps. She wasn't even able to breathe until the last, gagging strap punctured the rubber body bag and allowed air into her lungs. Bellen was left there to sleep, apparently this wasn't one of the days that the droid would lean over and let her sleep horizontally. How annoying that one of the few droids they got to salvage in a repairable state was this capture droid.

****

Gondak Starport, on the tropical world of Casidomai

“You sold Bellen’s shuttle…Mistress?” Vela blurted out. The ZX48 mind control droid had to add the Sobriquet, Vela was very much not in the mood.

“Of course I did. It was getting far too crowded for our needs,” Vela said in answer to herself. The astromech droid R3-JN uses her own mouth to talk Galactic Basic.

They were watching from the doorway of a landing pad as the crew of R3’s misbegotten crew emptied the GX-1 Lantillian shuttle of all of their possessions.

“But, that was Bellen's. She'll need a ship if she ever leaves us,” Vela said. Her voice was breaking from the stress. The little R3 droid had complete control of her body if she wished, and had many ongoing commands, or programs, running that ensured the correct level of contrition. So it was not a good bargaining position when dealing with the droid. The Zeltron agent Bellen Eshtan was walking up the hold ramp, in just her FU8-44 the “Property of R3-JN” tattoo on her butt was clear. As was the evil look she shot in Vela’s direction. However, it wasn't clear if that was due to the loss of her ship or that Vela seemed to have gotten out of the work.

Turning, R3 rolled back through the door. Vela's body spun around and followed. They went down a corridor until they came to the door to another hangar. Within this much larger hanger flood lights turned on one by one illuminating a rusted block of a ship many times the size of the Lantillian shuttle. The cockpit jutted out between and above the large cuboid double hulls.

“My new ship,” Vela told herself. “Though Bellen has a significant stake now.”

At least R3 wasn't that power-mad yet Vela thought. She wondered if Bellen knew or was going to be told. Either way, this seemed like a mistake, “An HT-2200 freighter? How old is this? Does it even still fly?”

“Yes. Older than you. I have checked the flight computer and it flies well for its age. I have an 82.54 per cent confidence that the logs are accurate. 

“Oh well, that's alright then. It'll fly like a brick.”

“This one has had engine upgrades that improve its acceleration by 12.38%, lift by 21.62% and overall manoeuvrability by 16.25%. However that is still far lower than the shuttle in all categories but we will have room for any crew, all droids, plus any ventures we will take part in. Come on.”

R3 rolled up the side entrance ramp with Vela in tow.

“Bunks in the main section for all the original crew. Two laser cannon turrets. There are four separate hold sections with individual climate and gravity control.”

They opened the door to one of the holds. Several droids were welding a large metal framework together within the vast hold. Vela immediately felt the reduced gravity within the hold. 

“Starboard stern hold is allocated to passenger cabins, droid quarters, medical bay and droid workshop.

“Starboard bow hold is going to have the bar, club, passenger mess, casino and private rooms. We will finally have Naboo, Mandalore, Separatist ship, Sith interrogation and Jedi temple-themed rooms.”

Vela bristled at her own casual mention of the rooms where she and her friends would be pimped out to any paying customer. They had tried to impress upon the droid that sentient life forms had strongly held beliefs about such practices but R3 had countered with the fact that they would not be breaking laws in any regions they intended to go and that it seemed to be commonplace to make droids do such things almost everywhere. They did not dare try to explain that life forms deserved more rights than droids. Not anymore.

“Both port holds will have large doors and force fields so they should be able to use them for space salvage and as a hanger. We should be able to get a small shuttle and even a stub fighter or two which should be far better than the short hauler for bounty hunting, security, rescue and general adventures while leaving the majority of the crew and the HT-2200 doing whatever jobs it was doing.”

The droid did have a point, much though she hated to admit it. They needed money to keep going around the galaxy helping people and droids and often had to put off advancing their quests to make money or vice versa. They could almost always have sent a couple of people zipping around with a smaller shuttle, it would be better in almost all situations. “Mistress. We should see about getting a shuttle as soon as possible then. It doesn't even need to be a combat model to start with. I'm sure with a bit of elbow grease we could sell it with no loss, maybe even a small profit when we can afford something good. With this hunk’s lack of manoeuvrability, even with its tough hull. I wouldn't feel safe going to the outer rim until we have at least an armed shuttle to act as escort, ideally, we'd have a dedicated stub fighter or two so we can leave in the shuttle in relative safety. If we can find some I'd try to get another laser cannon or two to double up the turrets. That’s not going to make up for a fighter or even an armed shuttle escort but it's a quick way to get the thing able to ward off solo pirates, hunters or a Separatist patrol,” Vela analyzed.

R3 just watched her intently. This was the Vela she remembered from when the ownership was reversed. With a crew like this, they would have everything they need again soon.

“Go arrange to transfer stuff to the new ship. I'll keep working on the ship's modifications,” Vela commanded herself. She noticed she wasn't being forced to move and had to carry this out herself. Maybe the droid was starting to trust her a little more. The leash, virtual though it was, was still not that long.

****

The third moon of Detubadon

“What are we looking for?” Vela moaned over her com.

“Special droids,” Dassor replied.

“Special how? And shouldn't we leave this to the Republic now?” Vela said.

“Special like, you'll know when you see them. This is a planet entirely of mud. There are no other droids here. And no, we can't leave it to the Republic, they wouldn't understand, or ignore it,” Dassor snapped back.

“Why would you set droids to put themselves in escape pods?” moaned Vela

“I told you, Special!” snapped Dassor.

“And why just one pod here,” said Vela.

“I think I was overly cautious in cataclysm action. It seems like it went to warp and ejected them each in turn without breaking warp. Probably minutes apart in the warp but light years away apart in real space,” said Dassor

“Guys I think I found them,” Kessan’s voice interrupted the annoying couple prattling 

“I'm on my way,” Dassor said. “Did you transmit the control code?”

“Yeah they are playing nicely,” Kessan responded.

Dassor turned her speeder around and rocketed in the direction of the scanner. 

Kessan straddled her speeder bike, in her battle armour cuirass and helmet with her battle droid limbs. She loosely held a blaster by her side. In front of her was the unmistakable form of these ‘special’ droids.

Three grotesque amalgams of B1 battle droids and women were assembled in front of the Pantoran. 

The first, with the highest rank markings, seemed to be an entire B1-Droid but wrapped around a seemingly unconscious woman. Its head sat on top of the woman's with its chin lying just between her eyes. The droid torso completely encased the woman's though her arms still protruded from the back and were bound in a metal box tie against the chassis. Her legs were wrapped together and around the hip joint of the droid.

The second was more thoroughly changed. She had the droid head installed on top of her own as well but there was no sign of her arms or legs. B1-Droid legs emerged from her heavily roboticized hips.

The third one was the most human. Still with the droid head over her own and its chest covering hers, but from the waist down she was all human. Just wearing metal boots that resembled B1 droids (and perhaps helped with balance). Likewise, her arms were fully human except for gloves that bound her hands to resemble 2 fingered droid hands.

All three of the mangled cyborgs saluted Dassor when she approached. Kessan just stared daggers at the Sith. The similarity between her and some of these droids was not lost on the amputee.

The sound of another speeder made them turn as Vela slid to a halt and surveyed the scene.

“By the force Dassor! What the shit is this?” Vela exclaimed.

“Prototypes of the human cyborg interface. Like that Decraniated droid but running at a much lower level of invasion. I didn't do this, I'm just a droid mech really. There was a cyberneticist called Draquo Splinter and his brilliant, handsome, surgeon apprentice, Doctor Cornelius Evazon. They were responsible for General Grievous, that Decraniated droid and the programming for Medical droids that did what they did to you Kessan and implanted these on our necks.”

“We need to have words with this Draquo,” Kessan snarled.

“Good luck. Even the CIS lost track of them a while ago. Rumour has it they ploughed their payment into even worse stuff. Cyborg guards and assassins that are the stuff of nightmares. And they were changing themselves the whole time, trying to cheat death. Best we leave that mess way alone,” exposed Dassor.

“So what, they just used your dumbest droids to test,”

“No, no, Vela. You misunderstood. They used practically every droid type we had in experiments like this. Just in case something worked slightly better, just to train medical droids, and just for practice. These B1’s were from the very start of Their experiments. The Oubliette was full of these ‘Droid Girls’. Command thought they were destroyed long ago but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I just had them doing duties in the background. I even programmed the oubliette to eject them safely like the human crew.”

“Well,” said Vela. “Looks like it was lucky we got a bigger ship we’re going to have a load of new crew when we find all these droid girls.”