Star Wars: Seed of Rebellion

The only plant life for miles were the flecks caught in the desert's jaws. Wherever Ivy had ended up—it could've been the Mojave or Sahara but for the two suns—she was utterly alone. Even when Harley had left her, run back to Mistah J, she'd still had the Green. Now she only had the fool's gold of sand in the blistering sunlight.

And she'd been the fool, going along with Luthor's plan to conquer the Monitors. Not only rule Earth, but all possible Earths. They couldn't even take out a man dressed as a bat!

At least she had a direction to be walking in. There was a black dash on the rolling horizon. Maybe a mirage. At least it was more interesting than the other dunes.

***

She didn't pass any plants getting there. No cacti. No tumbleweeds. But it wasn't a mirage. It was a skeleton, a big skeleton—long spine with the reticulated ribs of a snake. But at quadruple intervals, legs emerged. At one end, the spine dwindled into a tail. At the other, it terminated in a toothy, triangular maw. A regular dinosaur.

Ivy stepped over a row of broken teeth and took shelter in the shade of the skull's cranium. Stepping out of the dual sunlight felt like opening a refrigerator door. Ivy pulled her long legs up to her chin, fully submerging herself in the darkness. Firestorm. Fucking Firestorm, hitting Luthor's machine with his energy blast, causing that explosion—she'd probably been incredibly lucky, waking up here instead of in the vacuum of space.

Her exhaustion caught up with her. Long hours in the sun had done their damage, browned her skin, brittled her hair. Ivy felt her eyelids growing heavy... heavy... heavy...

***

She had a dream. Little people in brown robes from top to bottom were giving her way. It was warm, but it was beautiful. They had guns—what looked like guns—and they ordered her around, pushing her toward a big rectangle of a vehicle. A building with tank treads. She went with them. Inside, at least the air was circulating. Blowing on her skin. She drank as much water as they would give her, then found herself sleeping again.

***

"Five hundred credits for

that?

She looks half-dead. How do I know she's not sick? What species is she even?"

"U-tin! U-tin!"

"Yes, five hundred credits, I heard you the first time!" The Weequay looked back at his master, Bib Fortuna, who nodded solidly. Then the Weequay looked to the green woman. "You! Hey, you! Can you speak Basic?"

The woman raised her head. It took her a moment to get her bearings, and she seemed vague on them all the same. "I... I guess so."

The Weequay nodded stiffly. Maybe she was less than half-dead. "We'll take her."

***

The cargo skiff they threw her onto was open to the air, the outside as hot and staid as it had been before. But when it jumped into motion, at least the wind it cut through chilled Ivy a little. She had long ago allowed them to chain her. She toyed with the links that joined her collar to her manacles. She wanted them to take her somewhere with air conditioning before she made her move.

***

"Behold, mighty Jabba—a new dancing girl to match the most beautiful spectacles of Coruscant—"

Ivy let her temporary owner talk. Big slug ran the show. That was fine. She was used to slugs in a garden. You just had to pour a little salt on them, then everything would grow just fine. She even kinda liked the outfit they had given her—a golden girdle that was entirely assless and crotchless, just with a long loincloth dangling between her legs, with a dark green bra to match her palely green skin tone. Her hair had been braided to resemble the chain of her leash, which was now being presented to the slug himself.

As soon as his grubby hand was on it, Ivy grabbed her end of the leash and pulled—gently. More pulling herself along its length to him than trying to get away. 'Jabba' laughed uproariously as she came closer.

"Oh, mighty Jabba—" Ivy purred. "You must let me kiss you."

***

It took less than an hour. The slug was fat, but all that cholesterol made good fertilizer for her spores. Now he was a compost heap, birthing pheromones that had spread throughout the palace. All of his men were under her command. The ones that were immune to her charms had been summarily executed. With the carnage cleaned away, she ordered the men to leave and sat on

her

throne—the great tree that had once been Jabba the Hutt.

She was alone now. Her and her dancers. And she had a lot of ideas when it came to choreography.

Besides her, there were six dancing girls. Oola and Lyn Me were both Twi'leks, Oola with lime-green skin, Lyn with a paler tone and Asiatic features. Both had twin tentacles instead of hair,

lekku

, which twitched rhythmically under Ivy's sway.

Rystáll Sant was somewhat human, but with albino skin that mottled into purple spots like flower petals, from her cleavage up the sides of her face, to her forehead where an explosion of bright red hair competed with horns where a man would have sideburns. From the way Rystáll touched those sideways horns, Ivy guessed they were an erogenous zones.

The rest were human. Melina Carniss and 'Princess' Leia were vivid brunettes, while Arica was a redhead as breathtakingly beautiful as all the rest. Ivy would say one thing for the slug. He had good taste.

"Ms. Ivy," Leia said hurriedly, "I am Leia Organa, a leader in the Rebellion to Restore the Republic. Some of my friends are being held here, if you would simply allow us to leave, the Rebel Alliance—"

"They're traitors and criminals," Arica cut her off. "My name is Mara Jade—" Already Ivy was getting them mixed up. "I work for the Empire, the

lawful authority

in this galaxy, and if you turn these wanted fugitives over to my custody, the Emperor will reward you—"

"Shhhh." Ivy cut her off. "You're both much too serious. All of you. Far too serious. Why don't we try something

fun?

Everyone—take your clothes off."

Melina grasped the hem of her dress and drew it over her head in one quick, fluid motion, while Lyn peeled down whatever passed for pantyhose in this universe and even Leia lifted the loincloth of her bottoms to reveal she was just as naked underneath as Ivy. Even more so—

she'd

shaved.

Ivy looked about at the flowers of her little garden. Even among the Killer Frosts and Catwomans of the supervillain set, she'd never seen so many flawlessly beautiful bodies at one time. All hers, every perfect upthrust breast, every delectable sex, each mouth-watering clit—and all of them beginning to glisten with moisture.

"I know what you all really want," Ivy said, lying back with her hands under her head, her legs spread, the loincloth just a little too off-center to cover her right. "Little ol'

me

. So I'm all yours. You just have to share."

She pulled her loincloth fully out of the way, displaying to them the darkest shade of green on her, letting them have a fresh whiff of her lovely pheromones. They all shuddered in the same anticipatory orgasm. Leia and Mara, so interested in each other, naturally kissed. Everyone else was focused on Ivy. She was suddenly surrounded by women, covered by them, all of them sucking her delicious sweat from her at the same time.

Oola and Lyn each laid claim to a leg. The Twi'Leks sucked her toes, loving the sweet taste. Rystáll and Melina had chosen her arms; they sucked her fingers, kissed the palms of her hands. And as Ivy's arousal produced fresh waves of pheromones, Leia and Mara joined in too. They were soon on either side of Ivy, helping each other undo Ivy's bra so they could taste the swelling curves of her cleavage.

Ivy let her eyes fall shut, luxuriating in the perfume of six excited pussies, each flavor so different from her own. She soaked in the techniques of six eager tongues. Her nipples were as hard and her cunt was as wet as it would be if she'd been having a climax. And this was just foreplay.

From sucking her toes, Oola and Lyn licked up her ankles, then began bathing her calves with their tongues. It would be a long way to her knees. Rystáll and Melina had worked their way up to her hairless armpits. They were nibbling and sucking the tender skin there. Leia and Mara were licking her breasts in narrowing circles, moving ever closer to the tightening nipples. Ivy pinched her lips, wishing only that Harley was there to kiss them—either set.

She tried to lie completely still, but it was impossible. Even when she'd had a little vine party, that had been in her control. Technically this was too, but so many hungry mouths at the same time felt deliciously overwhelming. It wasn't sex, it was a riot.

Oola and Lyn were kissing her thighs now, pulling them wider apart so that there was room for both of their tentacled heads in the vee of her legs, and Ivy detected her own arousal added to that aroma that was growing stronger every second. Leia and Mara, moving in concert, each took a nipple and began to suck.

Ivy almost

screamed

—she took Melina by her hair and Rystáll by her horns (the hybrid groaned) and pushed them together. They kissed so hungrily. Their eyes opened with their tongues in each other's mouth, looking at her, and Ivy smiled to acknowledge that it was all for her, all

hers

.

She pulled them in, letting them take turns kissing her lips—her hands were not required to keep them in line. Instead, they slipped down; some fingers between Leia's legs, the rest between Mara's. Whatever their differences, their pussies were equally hot.

Oola and Lyn reached the tops of Ivy's thighs at the same time. "I want to suck her first," Oola said. "Be the first to thank her for killing Jabba..."

"But her pussy looks so yummy," Lyn said, lekku practically rioting behind her. "I want some too!"

Leia took her mouth from Ivy's nipple for a moment. Even at her orgasmic level of arousal, she was still a leader. "Roll your hips over a little to one side, Ivy," she said. "Then Lyn can eat your ass at the same time Oola licks your cunt."

"A fine suggestion," Ivy said, rolling over to display her perfect ass as much as her moss-green sex. "Mara, I think your competition has scored a point on you."

Mara bit down on Ivy's breast. It went a long way toward evening the score. So did Lyn's face buried between the firm globes of Ivy's ass, not that she was playing.

Leia kissed her, hand on her breast, while Mara suckled her, fist in her hair. After that, Ivy was at a loss as to who was doing what. Not that it mattered. All that mattered was that they were doing it to

her.

She lay comatose, eyes tightly shut to stay in this dream, as hot, wet mouths slid over her entire body where hot, wet cunts weren't rutting against her flesh. A woman's sex rubbed against hers, both being licked by a long tongue until that educated little thing replaced the cunt, probing her gate. In fact, Ivy was hard-pressed to think of one orifice that wasn't being kissed, fingered, licked, sucked—

Well, there was her mouth. A pussy was constantly being lowered onto it, Ivy enjoying its fragrance, its taste for a few minutes until another replaced it. A six-course meal.

When she was brought to climax, it was Leia's juices that were pouring down her throat—but whose tongue was in her ass, whose lips were on her sex, whose mouths were on her nipples, she could not have said. She'd been teleported again, and this new world held nothing but sucking mouths and spearing tongues and the intoxicating scent of women's pleasure.

She came, and kept on coming, all her energy and being and pleasure sucked out through her cunt. And even before her first heavenly orgasm had run its course, an even more powerful orgasm exploded inside her, and she cried out in a delirium of joy as even a third orgasm built and burst in her pussy with such force that she heard herself cry out again and again with transcendent ecstasy.

The knowledge that they had made Ivy climax so often and so well triggered her lovers. There were gasps and cries and sighs as they, too, all began to cum. But their orgasms did not deter them for one moment from continuing to pleasure Ivy's nipples and cunt and anus; rather, they were spurred on to even greater efforts.

They seemed to be vying among themselves to give Ivy the greatest pleasure — to suck half of her breasts into their mouths, to fill her cunt with tongue, to stretch her asshole with deep, frenzied thrusts, to press quivering labia against her face until she almost swooned from the glorious scent that filled her nostrils and had to swallow constantly to keep up with the flood of steaming nectar that poured into her welcoming mouth.

And still they satisfied her.

They sucked until she lay helpless, too exhausted to move or speak, in the throes of a final, shattering orgasm of such mind-bending, soul-wrenching violence that it at last sent her floating away into the warm, dark void of unconsciousness.

Ivy awoke in warmth. Not the inhospitable

heat

of the desert, but the living, loving glow of a tropical island. She was lying on top of women, in their laps, upon their breasts, and women laid on top of her. Mara and Leia were at her sides, sandwiching her in, barely waiting until she'd recovered to begin their contest of wills again.

"The Empire is a despotic tyranny that ravages whole worlds—"

"The Rebellion is a terrorist organization that has caused countless deaths of innocent civilian contractors—"

"You two need to get laid," Ivy said, and a fresh wave of pheromones guaranteed it.

Like a swirling cloud of nude flesh, four dancing girls turned upon two of their number. Whatever Leia and Mara's politics, they were both used to domination, or at least leadership. Suddenly, they were held down, licked and sucked by three probing, lashing tongues apiece. Ivy's supplicants knew all their fellow worshipper's pleasures. They fondled Imperial and Rebel to one luxurious climax after another. The brunette and the redhead seemed to love their orgasms as much as they hated not being in control. They strained not to respond.

Ivy rose—hateful loincloth and bra long since torn to shreds for daring to conceal her goddess's body from the worshipper's eyes. She was lushly naked, lushly green, the spilled juices of the past hour's orgy more than enough to quench her roots. After a luxurious stretch that almost distracted her acolytes from the mission she had given them, Ivy turned around once more.

The dancing girls she had taught to love not just her body, but all womanhood, were delighting in showing their skill, open in their hopes of being allowed to use it on their mistress once more. The tongues of eager young women teased and stroked the two bodies until they could barely tell pain from pleasure. But deep in their souls, they knew they were being satisfied.

Ivy toyed with the twitching

lekku

of her two Twi'leks, stroking one in either hand as she watched. She, and Mara, and Leia knew that the women were preparing the pair, heating the depths of their sexes, making every nerve tingle in readiness. When Oola and Lyn hadn't been sucking or kissing or biting, they'd been quite adamant in their desire to feed a

lekku

into Ivy's cunt, her ass. Every bit as excited at the notion as Harley had been to fuck Ivy with her mallet—the handle end, of course.

Now Ivy held the head-tentacles up with her stroking before letting them fall back down. Leia and Mara could see the full fearsome lengths displayed above their heads. They seemed to sway more strongly every time one of the humans was tongued past the throes of another climax. And however much the dancing girls feasted on the two infiltrators in their midst, they also furtively eyed the huge appendages that were to be their punishment.

"Leia, you seem the heroic type," Ivy said sweetly. "I'm sure you would like to spare even your enemy any discomfort. You'll go first."

Leia clamped her eyes shut, frightened at how desperately aroused she was, how she hungered to see that hot, ready tentacle go where it was meant to go, where it seemed fated to be. Her lips curled into a trembling grimace that couldn't help but quickly part. "Fuck me!" she screamed.

Ivy cooed. "But of course, your majesty... Mara? Would you like one too? Or would the Emperor not approve?"

Lust warred with fear on Mara's face. Watching the tongues of four beautiful women reduce two equally lovely ladies to slaves of their own satisfaction had heated Ivy to the point of

bloom,

the nectar of her simmering sex dripped and flowing between her throbbing petals. And the heavier dose of pheromones drove the women into a frenzy, sweat slick on their mingling bodies, saliva smearing under fondling hands or pedaling legs, everything so damn

wet

and

fertile

and

alive

.

"Poor Mara Jade..." Ivy cooed as she straddled that ginger head, seating her tender slit on a set of full lips. "I wasn't really going to let you choose. Not unless you can tongue me to an orgasm

at least

as satisfying as the one Leia's going to get—" Ivy turned to watch as Oola's lekku, twined around Leia's thighs, inched in-between them. "Oh so very soon..."

Finally, the tip of Oola's left tentacle met Leia's tight, narrow slit. Heated and licked by so many tongues, it opened at the slightest touch. Leia's leg muscles stirred, her body strained, fighting the three women that held her in place as she was teased. No matter how desperately she tried to force her loins onto the barest tip of the lekku that was against her, she was at Oola's mercy as the tentacle slowly entered her. Her convulsive reaction ended in a long, drawn-out moan as she gave in to the tantalizing slow usage she would be put to.

Seeing Leia's torment, Mara licked, sucked, and tongued Ivy's quim with a fierce passion that was half need, half desperation. "I just want you, I just want you!" she cried, her straining voice wetly muffled by Ivy's delighted cunt.

And as much as she begged, she made love to Ivy's sex with her own fervor, the hair on it as soft and sensuous as the seeds of a dandelion. She tried with every trick and technique she had learned as the Emperor's Hand to bring Ivy to a climax satisfactory enough to spare her Leia's delicious torture.

"Yes!" Ivy cried, rejoicing in everything being under control except her body—it was contracting into a tight knot of pleasure. "You mammal bitch—your tongue's so deep! That's good! Fucking

great!

"

She rose just enough to let Mara speak as she pulled Melina in for a quick kiss.

"I want it inside me!" Mara wailed. "I want it hard and fast!"

Ivy smiled at her. With the blessing of her pheromones, Lyn's lekku was quick to obey. Its fat length slapped between Mara's thighs, then entered her. Lyn groaned louder than Mara, delighted by the writhing, the sleek tightness now surrounding her sensitive head-tentacle.

Leia moaned at having someone share her pleasure. Ivy pressed her cunt to this new set of lips, loving the hot breath that gushed out to meet her arousal. And as Oola's strong lekku pressed in on Leia, the princess's tongue shot out like a spear. Ivy grinded on it, loving the pain Leia was in, the knowledge that it would soon turn to pleasure.

Finally, Oola entered Leia fully, her lekku driven inside like a battering ram. There was an Ivy-muffled scream as Leia felt the pulse in her tentacled intruder, the surge and the strain of it inside her clenching walls.

Meanwhile, Lyn yanked her quivering hot lekku all the way out of Mara. Mara was sitting up immediately, the Force that even now connected her to Lyn Me telling her what was necessary. She reached down to her cunt and opened it with her hands. Then Lyn rammed her way into Mara's convulsing cunt practically to the root.

Mara's pussy was suddenly a whirlpool of agony and ecstasy, clinging and rippling as if Mara's very flesh couldn't believe her penetration. Mara fell back against the tree, her head actually landing on Leia's shoulder. Her well-honed weapon of a body lay motionless, almost lifeless. Only in the yielding channel of her sex was there motion: a raging storm of ground given and taken that seemed beyond anyone's control. Lyn's lekku fucked into her with smooth, gilding strokes. Mara gasped as she took it, every bit as obedient to her new lusts as she had been to Palpatine.