Authoress's notes: The following short story takes place between the Yuuzhan Vong War and the Dark Nest Crisis. It is the ninth Star Wars story I have written. Please enjoy it, vote me a five, and please leave me feedback, public or via email.
Jedi Knight Alema Rar rolled her eyes with annoyance when the police speeder's lights began flashing in her rear-view holoscreen. She should have sensed the officer hiding out doing traffic interdiction, but she just wasn't paying attention. Alema Rar pulled her speeder off the deserted road and came to a stop.
It took the police speeder nearly half-a-minute to catch up to her. Alema Rar toyed with the lead ring on her pink collar as she waited for the police speeder. She sensed a single human male presence in it as it came to a stop several meters behind her.
The driver's side door of the police speeder opened and a uniformed officer stepped out of the cockpit. He was perhaps one hundred and seventy-five centimeters tall, and around one hundred and twenty kilograms. He looked fat, but with a considerable layer of muscle underneath. His uniform consisted of a light brown short-sleeve shirt, with black pants and brown boots.
The officer didn't appear to be in very much of a hurry as he slowly sauntered up to the open cockpit of her speeder. She did sense him checking out what he could see of her chest and upper body over the speeder's door as he approached, though. As he came to a stop next to her door, he got a much better look straight down into the cockpit at her.
"Identification," he asked after getting a good look down her top and at her legs.
Alema Rar glanced up at him as she reached for her real ID card that was in a hidden compartment underneath her silver durasteel belt. Mid-motion she changed to reach for the pouch that was attached to her belt at her right hip, disturbed by what she sensed from him through the Force.
Alema Rar was shocked by the malevolence in him. In the Force, he reminded her more of a hardened slaver thug than a mid-rim police officer. She didn't know what kinds of beings this planet usually employed to enforce the law, but this one would fit in better working as hired muscle for a Hutt, or as a lawyer.
From the pouch on her belt Alema Rar pulled out her one of her false ID cards. If she identified herself as a Jedi, he would most likely just apologize and send her on her way. If she were a stripper from Coruscant, on the other lek, then she could find out what sorts of things he did to helpless females on a deserted road.
"Is there a problem, officer?" she asked timidly as she handed him her ID card. A dozen pink bangles slid down her wrist as she held the card out.
He managed to take his eyes off her tits and took the ID card from her. There was a hand-held computer on his belt that he could slid the ID card into, and it would tell him everything about her. Alema Rar wondered why he didn't reach for it. Then she sensed that he wanted to keep this little encounter private, at least for now. If he scanned her ID card, then there would be a record.
"Well, you were going four hundred and thirty, and the maximum allowed speed on this route is four hundred kilometers per standard hour," he replied as he looked down her top.
Alema Rar couldn't blame him for looking down her top. In fact, that was the main reason she had worn it.
The top in question was tight, glossy, pink, and stopped about the level of the bottom of her ribcage. The front was open, with four one-centimeter-wide straps keeping it together. The straps were about ten centimeters long, so there was plenty of blue skin showing. The top was also sleeveless, displaying all of her toned blue arms and most of her shoulders. A glossy pink five-centimeter-wide synth-hide collar was locked around her throat. A dozen pink bangle bracelets were on each of her slender wrists.
"Oh, I'm so sorry about that," Alema Rar said apologetically, "Officer—" she looked for a name tag on his uniform, but didn't see one, so she continued—"I didn't realize how fast I was going."
Actually Alema Rar had been upset when she discovered that the shiny speeder Karrde had let her use would only go four hundred and thirty kilometers per standard hour. She hadn't even bothered to check the maximum allowed speed on this barely used road in this practically deserted part of this no-account rock.
"Well," he glanced at the computer display, "Ta'hir'ii, we take traffic violations very seriously around here."
Alema Rar easily sensed through the Force that he was lying.
"I promise I won't do it again, officer," she said in her best helpless Twi'lek voice. She was careful not to influence his mind with the Force. Not so much to get out of the speeding citation, which with her being a sexy Twi'lek would be easy, but to encourage him to do anything that he might regret later.
He caught her off guard with his next question.
"Ma'am, do you have anything illegal in the speeder?"
"Oh, no Sir," Alema Rar replied earnestly. The four sets of ID she was carrying would each pass all but the most thorough of checks, and she didn't have a blaster. That left her lightsaber, which was only illegal in a very few places. Mostly places with broad laws that prohibited all potentially lethal weapons.
Well, my body
should
be illegal,
Alema Rar thought with amusement.
Now she sensed a particularly malevolent feeling from him. "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to step out of the speeder," he said with a well-rehearsed sigh of reluctance.
Through the Force, Alema Rar sensed that he very much wanted her out of the car, but not for any reasons that would be good for her. "Yes, officer," she responded with a nervous smile as she unfastened her safety harness.
As Alema Rar stepped out of her low speeder, she sensed him almost gasp in shock. While he had seen what she was wearing below her waist while she was in the speeder, out of it he got the full view.
Around her waist was her silver durasteel belt. Her pants were skin-tight, stretchy, and matched her top. The outside seams of her pants legs were open from the top to the bottom, with the same one-centimeter-wide straps connecting the front and back as her top had.
On her feet were strappy, glossy pink fifteen-centimeter-high heels. The straps crisscrossing the shoes were one centimeter wide, just like the straps on her top and pants.
The officer's eyes traveled down the length of her body, then back up. Alema Rar sensed his appreciation at what he saw. "Step to the back of the speeder please," he instructed her, after he mostly regained his composure.
Without a word, Alema Rar strutted to the back of her speeder. She didn't have to be a Jedi to know that he was staring at her ass as she walked.
"Hands on the speeder, feet apart" he told her when they stopped.
"Did I do something wrong?" Alema Rar asked pleadingly as she faced the speeder and put her hands on the storage compartment.
He didn't respond as he grabbed her by the belt and bumped her feet farther apart. With her belt he half-lifted her and pulled her a little farther back, forcing her to lean farther forward, off-balance to keep her hands on the speeder.
Once he had her in place like he wanted her, he kept a hand on her belt, and said, "I'm gonna search you for contraband. Don't move."
"What?" Alema Rar asked, frightened, fake tears starting to flow.
"I said don't move, or I'll stun your pretty little ass," he told her forcefully, as he began roughly searching her. Well, assaulting her.
First he reached up and fondled her breasts. Then he ran his hands down her bare sides and grabbed her ass again with one hand, while he ran his other hand around her waist, underneath her belt. With one hand still on her ass, he moved his other hand down to her pussy and forcefully groped her.
Alema Rar almost stopped him then. For some reason though, the Force told her to let him go on. She vowed to make sure he wouldn't do something like this again to some helpless female. "Please stop," she begged him through her tears.
"Shut up," he responded, with a hard slap of her ass.
After several seconds, he stopped his sexual assault and quickly ran his hands down her legs, even though it was obvious that she wasn't hiding anything down there. Then he pushed his crotch into her ass and leaned forward to pull her arms behind her back.
She didn't resist as he held her small wrists in one hand while he grabbed his binders with the other. Then she felt him push her bracelets up her right arm and snap the binder on her wrist, then do the same with her left.
Alema Rar always felt a surge of pleasure when someone closed binders, shackles or restraints around her wrists. Even when it was a possibly dangerous cop who was way over the line, she couldn't help but feel a little jolt of arousal.
Next the sexually molesting officer—she still didn't know his name—led her, with one hand on her ass, back to the front of his police speeder. There he locked her binders to an attachment point on the front of the speeder that was designed for that purpose.
Once she was secure, he took a few seconds to grope her tits yet again, then turned and walked back towards her speeder.
It took Alema Rar just a couple of seconds to unlock the standard police binders around her wrists. Now they were closed, but with a twist of her wrist she would be free. Not that she would have been particularly worried about one cop even with her hands securely cuffed.
Alema Rar had played these types of games with security officers all over the galaxy. She loved teasing the ones that stayed professional, and the ones that didn't. Very few went as far as this one had though. Most of the ones that went a little too far she would just warn, a few she had reported, and a handful she had taken care of herself. This was already well past the 'take care of herself' point.
The thug in uniform didn't spend very long in her speeder. Certainly not long enough to conduct a proper search for illicit substances. Nevertheless, he walked back to her with an evil, superior grin on his face.