Star Wars Padmes Defeat

All characters mentioned are over the age of 18. This story contains a fantasy which has some darker elements. Please protect your own mental health. Discretion is advised.

Padme rubbed her eyes and stopped staring at the datapad. The war had been raging on for three years now. One more late night staring at budget reports wouldn't save the Republic. She pushed the computer to the back of her desk, leaned back and exhaled.

Inside her belly, the baby kicked. She ran a hand over her thin shirt and smiled down at her bump. For the thousandth time she wondered if the war would end before she became a mother. If Anakin wanted their child raised in peace, he had about a month left to finish his work.

She pressed a button on her desk and spoke, "Threepio, were there any transmissions for me tonight?"

The flustered protocol droid replied over the comlink, "No, Senator. There have been no transmissions for you since you returned from the Senate."

"Very well," Padme said.

"Senator, Eirtaé would like to know if you're ready for your evening services," Threepio said.

"I am, send her in."

"Yes, Senator," Threepio said.

Padme rose from her chair, stretched and stared out at the glittering skyline of Coruscanti night.

She didn't turn when the door opened. Eirtaé came into the room with silent steps and waited. Handmaidens were well trained and Eirtaé had been one of her most loyal.

"Good evening, Eirtaé," Padme said. Her tone was more tired, but she worried it came off as dismissive.

"Milady," Eirtaé said. Padme didn't need to know Eirtaé had curtseyed. Protocol was a core tenet to any handmaiden.

"I'm ready for bed," Padme said, yawning.

"Of course, Mistress," Eirtaé replied.

Padme moved to the foot of her bed and began to slip out of her clothing. Piece by piece Eirtaé helped her undress. This would have been a moment of solitude a year ago, but the pregnancy meant that Padme welcomed help with small tasks that required awkward body movements. And Eirtaé's presence was soothing.

"You're glowing, Senator," Eirtaé said.

Padme blushed at the compliment. She wriggled out of her pajama pants and handed them to Eirtaé.

"I doubt that will be enough of a distraction. I'm starting to get looks," Padme said. She groaned at the loss of her bra. Her full breasts spilled out into the cool air of the room. Eirtaé stole a glance and Padme pretended not to notice.

"A secret marriage and a secret pregnancy. Rumors are inevitable," Eirtaé said.

"You're right," Padme said, feeling Eirtaé take down her panties. Padme sat back on the bed and rubbed her aching feet.

Eirtaé, ever the dutiful servant, knelt and started to massage her aching toes. Padme blushed and gave her a thankful look.

"What would I do without you Eirtaé?"

Eirtaé smiled and focused on the Senator's feet, "Please, milady. This is a pleasure."

"Oh, I'm sure," Padme said, sarcastically. She giggled as Eirtaé placed a kiss on the instep of her right foot.

"Naughty girl," Padme said, running fingers through Eirtaé's hair.

"Would you like company in bed, milady?" Eirtaé asked.

"I'm a little too tired for that kind of fun tonight," Padme said. She looked at herself in the mirror and frowned, "And a little too round..."

Eirtaé kept massaging and brought out a wanton moan from her Mistress. Padme reclined back on her elbows.

"Yeah, that's a good spot," Padme said, trailing a hand across her thighs. Her arousal had come unbidden. The pregnancy meant she couldn't always predict when she would get horny. When it came, it came suddenly. Much like her husband.

Eirtaé knew how to play her like an instrument. She'd been doing it for years. She began the first notes of a symphony.

"Senator?" Eirtaé asked.

"Do it," Padme said.

Eirtaé let go of Padme's foot and dove into her pussy with tender precision. Eirtaé's tongue found Padme's labia and Padme gave another thankful moan as Eirtaé's fingers penetrated her throbbing folds.

"Fuck!" Padme said, cheering on her maiden.

"You shouldn't let yourself get so pent up, Senator," Eirtaé said, smirking up at Padme's rounded belly.

"Don't talk. Lick my fucking clit, bitch," Padme said.

Eirtaé obeyed, shrugging off the barb without a second thought. Padme's hormones had changed her fetishes a bit. Eirtaé had been able to keep up as Padme had grown more... explicit.

"Mmmm," Padme said, feeling Eirtaé's fingers finding the right angle to her g-spot.

"Just relax, milady. Let me take you there," Eirtaé said.

Padme nodded, closing her eyes. She felt the orgasm building in her core. Felt herself warm and flood. She gripped the sheets softly. Then Eirtaé's tongue found the right spot and her grip went tight.

"Eirtaé!" Padme called, bursting with pleasure. Her orgasm led to a hard squirt. With hard, hunking jerks she sprayed Eirtaé's face and chest with her cream. Padme could only pant and stare up at the ceiling as her orgasm crashed over her body. Eirtaé lapped up her come and brought her to a couple of strong aftershocks before Padme had the energy to push the handmaiden off of her clit.

Padme gripped Eirtaé by the hair and pulled her in for a wet, heady kiss.

"Thank you," Padme said, grinning.

"Anytime," Eirtaé said, furtively.

Padme giggled, "Sorry I called you a bitch."

Eirtaé giggled back, "I kinda liked it."

Padme nodded, "I kinda did too."

Padme patted the mattress and Eirtaé came to lay beside her. They held hands and stared up at the blank ceiling, just enjoying the post-orgasmic quiet.

"I'm sorry your husband hasn't been able to take care of you," Eirtaé said.

Padme lazily waved a hand through the air. "You're a pretty good substitute."

Eirtaé smiled to herself, "Anything I could do better?"

Padme shrugged, "Eh... I don't think it'd be a good idea to have you choke me."

Eirtaé's eyebrow went up, "Is that what the Senator is into these days?"

Padme pushed Eirtaé lightly on the shoulder, "When my come is in your mouth, don't call me 'the Senator'."

"Yes, milady," Eirtaé said, giggling again.

"Bitch," Padme said, smiling back at her.

"Seriously, is that what you've been wanting?" Eirtaé said.

Padme nodded slightly, "My fantasies have been... darker. Just in the last couple of weeks. I've had some really bad thoughts."

"I'd love to know them," Eirtaé said.

Padme bit her lip, debating how much to say.

"Anakin likes to choke me. It took a while for him to admit it, but... it's something we do now. Sometimes."

Eirtaé 's eyes went wide, "Did he choke you on the night..."

"Oh, I got fucked like a bitch the night this happened," Padme said, rubbing her swollen belly.

Eirtaé nodded, "I can try to be rougher."

Padme shook her head, "No, I like what you do just fine. And honestly... not to be..." Padme struggled to find the word, "It's something I think about from a man. Your touch is softer. I like it for other reasons."

Eirtaé nodded, "I think I understand."

"Sometimes you just want to be overwhelmed," Padme said.

Eirtaé nodded harder, "I've had... desires like that."

"We all have," Padme said. "I've had some really terrible ones."

Eirtaé reached out to her, "It's okay... this is safe. Tell me."

Padme closed her eyes for a beat and opened them, staring at Eirtaé.

"Remember the invasion?"

Eirtaé nodded, "I try not to."

Padme winced, "I... I sometimes think about what would have happened if we'd lost."

Eirtaé angled her chin and neck, "What do you mean?"

"If Maul... if that monster had killed Obi-Wan... he'd have come after us next. He would have..."

Eirtaé shuddered. Slowly she came to a realization. Her voice went up a full octave for her question.

"Is that a fantasy for you?"

Padme blushed hard. Eirtaé felt a bit guilty.

"I didn't mean..."

Padme put a hand on Eirtaé's chest, "It's okay... I hate that it's a fantasy for me... but it is."

"Maul forcing you to..."

Padme shook her head, "I... I don't know if it would count as force. Part of me would have

liked

it... and I'd have been doing it to save Naboo. I... I would have fought and struggled... but..."

Eirtaé nodded, letting the thought hang.

Padme said, "Either way, not something we have to worry about now. Maul is dead. The war's almost over. When this baby is out of me, hopefully the fantasies will go with it."

Eirtaé nodded, "Yes, Senator." She paused and looked over Padme's nude body. "I should let you sleep."

Padme nodded, "Thank you for your service."

"Good night, Senator," Eirtaé said.

Padme smiled as Eirtaé left. She heard the electronic latch to the door close. Her body was sated, but her mind still thought about what it would be like to be absolutely dominated by that red and black nightmare that haunted her memory.

She wrapped herself in warm sheets, tried to think of Anakin, then let herself drift off to sleep...

It was the same vision each time she had the nightmare. It always started with the blast doors opening. That black and red wraith staring her down like she was a meal to be devoured. Her Jedi protectors step forward and block his path. The security men pull her away. She glances over her shoulder at the handmaidens who look fearful, but resolved.

As the Queen, she must be protected at all costs. The guards and girls swarm around her as she is escorted away from the fight. She sees the sabers dance in their infinite courses. Two red blades swirling against the blue and green defenders.

She sees Qui-Gon cut down on the hanger floor. He had overextended to defend his padawan. Maul speared him through the gut and he collapsed to the floor. Obi-Wan's scream bored into her mind and echoed in her ears. In anger, the young Jedi had tried an attack filled with anger and power.

Obi-Wan's lunge was wide and he lost his footing.

He never saw the red blade that speared his master come slicing through his own body.

When he fell to the floor, it was Padme's turn to scream in terror. That's when Maul turns to come after her...

Padme cried out in her dream just as she'd done each night since the defeat. She awoke in a cold sweat. The fear made her sit bolt upright on the thin mattress in her cell. Her shriek echoed through the prison block.

"No!" she cried into the darkness.

Even with the lights out inside Theed's Central Prison, she could see her handmaidens in the cell across from her own. There were five girls in a cell meant only for one. Her screams had awoken them in the night.

She winced and gave a tight, pained smile. A silent apology for waking them. Sleep was the only refuge that remained to them and her nightmare had cut through it like a vibroblade.

The five of them looked at her with helpless reverence.

"I'm okay," Padme said.

She laid back on her cot and tried to think of nothing but the ceiling. Still, unbidden, the memory of the battle came back to her as it always did.

She saw Captain Panaka cut down. Saw Maul hold his searing red blade under Yané's neck. Saw herself throw down her own blaster rather than watch her handmaidens cut to ribbons. Part of her blamed herself for not giving up in time to save some of the security guards. If she ever managed to escape, she would try to atone for that.

Though, deep down, she knew that she would never escape.

The Galactic Senate was too mired in internal squabbles to come to Naboo's aid. She had resolved to take back her palace, her city, and her planet, or die trying. Unfortunately, the Trade Federation's Sith assassin was just too fierce a fighter. And all of the honorable bravery in the world was no match for numbers and savagery.

From the chatter between cells, she knew that Theed and the other cities of Naboo were now occupied with battle droids. Her people were being systematically subjugated. The Trade Federation was putting down the last of the resistance. The Gungans were being rounded up and slaughtered.

Help was not coming. No grand army would rescue Naboo. No Jedi force would swoop in to save the Queen or her people. The corporations would burn Naboo's beauty in the reckless desire for profit and power.

She'd already cried enough for a lifetime. To survive, she retreated into numbness. The cold, stoic silence that acted as her last armor. She wrapped herself in shock and impassivity, hoping against hope that something might change.

It was easier at night.

***

Dawn broke and the droids came in to feed the prisoners. As she did at every meal, she shouted at the droids to give more food to her girls. They were programmed to only leave one meal at each cell. Her girls had been forced to share.

Padme had obviously thrown her own food across the hall so that they'd have more to eat, but the handmaidens had asked her to stop doing that so that she could have some strength left for whatever was to come.

It was hard to eat. Starvation was a bad way to die, but she doubted the death that the Trade Federation would give her would be any better.

In truth, she was curious why she was still alive. What were they waiting for? They could haul her out at any time, force her to sign whatever corrupt document they wanted and then execute her on a whim.

At least it would be over.

She could hear a low murmur through the walls of the prison. A crowd was gathering. There was a current of energy in the morning air.

Across the narrow hallway, her handmaidens were huddling for warmth and comfort. For Padme, it was easier to focus on their pain and take the guilt for herself. If she let herself think about how she'd lost her entire world, then the crushing weight of it would bring the tears again.

She tried not to cry in front of the girls.

"Milady," Sabé said, speaking to her and stretching a hand through the bars of the cell, "When they come for us, what are your orders?"

Padme shivered. Not from the cold, but from impotent rage and abject shame. She wanted to tell them to fight and die in a glorious display of valor and defiance. She would prefer a blaster bolt in the back rather than whatever was planned for her, but there was so much blood on her hands now that she couldn't bear the thought of letting her handmaidens die for nothing.

She swallowed and gave her answer.

"Submit. After they're finished with me, you may have a way out. Use it. Get out of Theed. Get somewhere where you can find help. Tell anyone who will listen that we... tell them I died fighting," Padme said.

"Yes, milady," Sabé said. Padme could see her resolve. Sabé was a fighter. She had dispatched half-a-dozen battle droids before Maul stopped their assault. Padme hoped that Sabé would have the chance to be defiant again someday. But not yet.

As noon approached, more droids filed in. They carried blasters, but no food trays. Something was happening. Padme stood and smoothed out the wrinkles in the ugly grey jumpsuit that they'd given her at the start of her incarceration. She moved to the front of the cell.

There was a heavy thudding down the corridor. She pressed her face to the bars, trying to see down the hallway, to no avail.

A steady

tick-tick-tick

was heard and it took her a moment to realize what it was.

The deactivated hilt of Maul's lightsaber was being dragged against the bars of the various cells that led to her own. The Zabrak bastard was making his way down the hall, beating a percussion of threats with his weapon. The sound was designed to intimidate her and her girls. It had the desired effect.

Young Eirtaé pressed her back to the cell wall, trying to put as much distance between herself and danger as possible. Saché moved to protect Yané, confirming Padme's long-standing suspicion that the two of them were more than coworkers.

Rabé and Sabé stood at the front of the cell, defiantly staring down to gauge Maul's approach. Sabé had taken a Teras Kasi stance that would do nothing to stop a lightsaber.

Padme put a hand out to wave them down, but Sabé and Rabé were too tensed and focused to notice the gesture.

The black bantha leather boots were polished to a mirror shine. He wore a black tunic with long sleeves. The red skin was decorated with black tattoos in mesmerizing patterns. He was a walking nightmare from which she could not wake.

Maul was flanked by two droids carrying crates. The image might have been comical if she could only stop imagining the tortures those crates must be holding inside.

Maul ignored the snarls and whimpers from the handmaidens and turned to face Padme's cell square on.

"Queen Amidala," he said.

"Monster," she said, then spat at him and missed. Her own defiance cost her nothing now. He couldn't kill her. It was what she wanted most.

He gave a predatory smile and signaled the droids to lay down their burdens.

"It is time for the formal surrender. Viceroy Gunray has prepared a treaty. It awaits your signature in the public square. The citizens of Theed are gathering to watch the transfer of your planet."

"I'm not signing anything. Tell Gunray he can go to Hell," she said, sneering at him with unabashed contempt.

"This is not unexpected," Maul said. He sighed and looked over his shoulder at the handmaidens.

"Don't look at them!" Padme said, uselessly.

"Perhaps you'd prefer to select one yourself," he said.

"What do you mean?" she asked him.

Casually, he turned his back to Padme, facing her handmaidens. He reached out his right hand and aimed it at Eirtaé. The other girls screamed as he lifted Eirtaé off the floor. Padme could see the poor girl gasping for air. He was choking her. Hanging her with the power of the Force as his noose.

"Put her down!" Padme screamed. She pounded on the bars of her cell. Across from her, Eirtaé flailed and kicked empty air, desperate for purchase or oxygen.

"Would you care to join us for the treaty signing?" Maul asked, smirking as he choked the life from Padme's youngest servant.

"Stop it! Stop it! Damn your blood. I'll sign it. Just let her live," Padme said.

Calmly, Maul lowered Eirtaé to the floor. The other maidens swarmed around her, trying to help console their sister against the trauma she'd just experienced. Padme saw that she was still alive and breathing.

"Some errand boy Gunray has," Padme said, trying the only attack she could think of, "What a proud warrior to choke a defenseless girl to get his way."

Maul pretended not to hear the barb. Words were all she had left, but he was an animal and an unfeeling one at that.

"I have selected special attire for your appearance today," Maul said. His little smirk infuriated her all the more. Maul motioned for the droid to open the crate.

Inside were costumes for dancing girls. Padme had seen such things in holos of more unsavory worlds. The Hutts, vile lascivious gangsters that they were, loved making humanoid girls dance in these metallic bikinis. Padme counted five matching sets. One for each of her maidens.

"You vile bastard!" she screamed, pounding her fist against the bars of the cell again.