Swtor: a Smuggler Not a Patriot 03

Prologue:

A Fun and Uncorrected Mistake

Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously.

Sulmad walked, okay, staggered out of Yael's tent. The coat over the ragged remnants of his shirt gave him an almost civilized appearance. The fuck session with the Cathar refugee had left the smuggler drained, both literally and figuratively. He was distracted enough that he almost didn't notice the pretty blonde who was moving to intercept him. A hand fell automatically to the butt of his blaster and his movements grew smooth as instinct overrode exhaustion.

"May I speak to you in private?" She asked, her accent was distinctly upper class and her distaste for the shabby smuggler was evident in both tone and body language.

"About what?" He asked, surreptitiously checking for movement around them. The refugee camp was fairly quiet, it was late and no one wanted to interrupt the fiery Cathar's fun, especially not when she'd just got them the medicine they so desperately needed.

"Business." She sniffed. "What else would I want to talk to you about?"

"I wonder that myself, seeing as how refugee camps are not famous for their balls, or wealth. What business could you have that would interest me?" Sulmad snapped.

"I will not discuss this in public." She replied, crossing her arms over an ample chest.

"If you stab me in the back, I'll shoot you in the face. Understand?"

"Very well." She said, every word managing to drip with the distaste she felt for him.

"Lead the way. I don't trust you at my back." He said, returning her subtext to her as text.

She spun on her heel, skirts swirling around her feet as she walked away. A less genteel woman might have stomped, she swayed, her ass twitching under the fabric of her skirt, drawing the unwary eye. Sulmad let one eye be drawn as the other watched for ambushes.

Though her looser clothing concealed more of her form than most of the women he interacted with, it was still obvious that under the rags there was a woman with a body built to fuck. Full lips that anyone (of the right orientation) would be pleased to see wrapped around his cock; large breasts that he wanted to feel on his chest, or maybe press against the ground as he fucked her roughly from behind in the dirt; blonde hair pulled back tight in a high braid, just begging to be released, or perhaps used as a handle to really dig into the tight ass she was tempting him with...

She opened the door to her hut and waved him through. He waved right back at her and followed her in, letting the door close behind him, he kicked it, making sure it latched. His eyes raked the hut. A folding table and chair filled a third of it and a bare mattress filled another third, leaving little space for them to fill, as he refused her polite offer of the use of her chair, or any of the minor amenities she had.

"Let's get down to business, shall we. If I wanted to socialize with you, I'd have come up to you, not the other way around." Acid dripped from his tongue.

"Very well. I require the return of a necklace."

"You're living in a hut and you want a necklace? If it's worth enough to get you out of here, why wouldn't I just sell it myself?" Sulmad countered. "I don't go into things blind. Fucks with my aim."

"I am the Lady Alma."

He just stared, though his mind was racing. Sulmad had his problems with nobility, if wanting to drown them all in a lake counted as a problem, but he was hardly in a position to turn down work, not with no ship and nothing but the partially shredded clothes on his back to his name.

"Dewaran nobility. The necklace is an heirloom, of no interest to anyone off Dewara, but important to us. I left it behind when I fled the village ahead of the separatists and so--"

"Fascinating. What does that have to do with me, princess?"

"I am not a princess, just a lady—"

"Since you apparently missed the sarcasm in the 'fascinating' let me clarify. I don't care anymore. Why are you telling me this? You don't have any money, obviously, and I don't take IOUs." Sulmad snapped.

"Indeed and I was concerned, until I discovered your arrangement with Yael." Alma said, as if that explained anything.

Emerald eyes narrowed, measuring her blue ones. He thought he knew what she meant, but he wasn't about to provide her any more information than she already had. "Oh? You mean to match her offer?"

"Don't be silly, I'll exceed that alien slut's offer." She snapped.

"How?" Sulmad asked.

"She fucked you like the animal she is. I will let you fuck me, like the animal you are." She said, looking down her patrician nose at her fellow Human.

Sulmad almost choked at that statement, coming in that accent. "What?" He asked, disbelievingly.

"Up the ass, obviously, as I haven't had a chance to have my BC implant checked since my the manor I was visiting was burnt down." Alma explained, as if she was giving a servant directions on where to put the centerpieces, not a smuggler instructions on where to put his cock. "I'll simply have to take the risk that you're carrying some filthy disease, but I'm sure my doctors can cure whatever it is when I'm back in civilization."

"And what do you want, that you imagine that your scrawny ass can pay for with one fuck?" Sulmad asked, matching her, contempt for contempt.

"I was fleeing through the village just outside the base, the one the separatists are holed up in. That's where my necklace got lost."

"I might be heading that way. Where did you lose it?" Sulmad asked, letting his eyes wander over her curvy frame freely and without any attempt at subtlety.

"A hut by the exit nearest the camp. You can't miss it. The necklace itself is a small thing, the cord is nanosilk and there's a steel amulet on the end. It has this pattern on it." She lifted a paper and passed it to him, revealing a stylized 'A' surrounded by circles.

"So, let me see if I've got this straight. I infiltrate a heavily fortified enemy stronghold, slaughter my way to a hut, search it, find that some asshole stole the necklace, then have to slaughter everyone there until I find it all for...a piece of ass I could buy for five credits?" Sulmad asked.

"You can't buy mine—"

"Except with a necklace." Sulmad interrupted sharply. He stepped forward into her personal space and she looked at him as if he were a talking piece of furniture.

She slapped him. His face didn't move under the blow, such as it was. Green eyes froze solid as he realized how completely instinct had betrayed him. He'd reacted to her accent, her bearing as if she was a noble and he was still a child she could have executed on a whim. Being around her was bad for him and would be bad for his rep if anyone saw them together. He spun on his heel and stepped towards the door.

"I didn't give you permission to leave!" She snapped.

Sulmad moved, faster than she could see, pressing her against the wall, one hand wrapped around her throat. "You don't own me." He said, so coldly she actually froze.

"No, but you could own me, for a night, for a necklace." She whispered, though whether shame, or his hand lowered her volume he couldn't say.

Basic decency made him speak. "Are you sure you want that? I have some issues with the aristocracy that I would love to work out on your lily white hide."

"I can take anything you dish out, peasant." She answered, her blue eyes sparking back at him, her arrogance back.

"We'll see about that—" Sulmad began

"After I have my necklace." Alma interrupted him for the first time.

"After you have your necklace." He released her throat. She took a deep breath and relaxed slightly. Rough hands grabbed her large breasts. She gasped. "These will be mine." He pulled her forward by her tits, against him, and grabbed a handful of firm ass. "This will be mind. His other hands bunched her dress up, revealing an expanse of creamy white leg. "I'll flip up this skirt, bend you over that desk and bugger you until you beg me to let you cum. Is that what you want?" He asked, holding the suddenly disheveled noblewoman against him.

"That's what you'll get if you retrieve my necklace."

"Hmm..." Sulmad weighed the options. He needed to go to the village anyway. A squeeze of her ass reassured him there was fun to be had here and working out some of his frustrations with the nobility might be good therapy. And fun. This time he moved slowly, pulling her across the room and bending her over the desk. She didn't resist.

"After." She said.

"Of course. But I have to inspect the merchandise, don't I?" Sulmad asked innocently.

"But—"

"Only an idiot accepts something in payment without a thorough inspection." He overrode her. "That's a dealbreaker for me."

"Fine." She said, shoving herself off the table and shrugging off her dress with surprising ease. Though she might have traded in her fine clothes for supplies, her underwear hadn't gotten the same treatment. It was fine matching set of red shimmersilk, partially transparent, flashes of pussy and breast appeared only to vanish as her movements shifted the angle the material interacted with the hut's one light. "Well, well, well, when you picked out that underwear, you knew someone was going to be ripping it off you. Did you plan for it to be someone like me?"

"Don't be crass." Alma said, struggling to unhook the complicated bra.

"Why not? I am. Here I'll get the bra, you lose those panties so we can get a good look at what I'll be fucking." Sulmad commanded, walking around behind her so he had a good look at the latch.

"If you bring back my necklace." Alma added, wiggling out of the soft panties and letting them fall to the floor as Sulmad undid her bra. Her shoes were sensible flats that she was able to kick off, as they weren't quite the right size.

Sulmad circled her, examining her as if she were a slave up for auction, or a whore he was considering hiring. She blushed, her mind having a hard time categorizing him as just another irrelevant peasant when she was naked before him and he prowled around her like a Savrip circling wounded prey.

"These are good." He groped her breasts, each more than filling a hand. "If Yael and I hadn't just had a truly fantastic time, they'd probably get me hard. Or at least, the sight of Lady Alma on her knees, wrapping them around my cock and pumping like a common streetwalker would. Probably." She flushed even more, but didn't say anything. "Of course, the fact that you like and are like that hardly surprises me." She opened her mouth and he spoke over her. "You're dripping down your leg, you must be able to feel it." She shut her mouth again, though she was now so bright red he was actually worried his prize might spontaneously combust before he got to fuck it.

He circled her, stopping behind and running a calloused finger along the soft skin of her back. The handful of weeks in the camp hadn't had a chance to effect her body the way it had affected her wardrobe. A firm slap set her ass to jiggling and her mouth to making a sharply cut off command.

"All right." He said. She started to reach for her clothes. "Let's move on to the final check. Bend over the desk." She froze. "I'm not going to fuck you until I give you the necklace, if I accept the job. But I need to know what I'm getting for my work. After all, that Cathar was so tight I felt like she was trying to shrink my dick." Sulmad explained

"Whatever you have to tell yourself." Alma whispered striding over to the desk. She was no longer twitching that fine ass under his nose.

"You know, if I didn't want to avoid sullying my time with Yael with sordid memories of you, then I might be willing to give you what you wanted and fuck you now." Sulmad said as she bent over, hands on the desk, at about a forty five degree angle. Her blonde hair was tightly bound against the back of her head.

"I don't want—" She began, though she didn't turn around.

"Whatever you have to tell yourself." He echoed, following her to the desk. Alma's back was an expanse of white skin, unmarred by anything. The hourglass form her unattractive clothing had concealed was revealed in all its glory to the unimpressed Sulmad's eyes. He hadn't lied. She might have been embarrassed but her cunt was leaking like an improperly secured tent, in a monsoon. She could feel it, even if she hadn't felt the stirring in her stomach that went along with it.

He ran his hands up and down each leg for no particular reason, before moving up, skipping over the fun (or funner) parts for now. Fingers seemed to leave trails of fire on her skin as they ran up to her head. They picked apart her carefully arranged hairdo. She could feel it tumbling around her shoulders. "Shorter than I'd like." Sulmad muttered to himself. Before Alma could say anything he grabbed a handful of her golden tresses and pulled hard, yanking her off balance and grinding her cunt and ass against his groin. "But it makes an all right handle." He noted, releasing her hair and shoving her forward with a sharp pelvic thrust.

His cock wasn't even hard. She could feel that. For some reason it made her wetter and determined to get him hard. That alien cunt couldn't be better than a Human. Period.

She let herself fall against the desk, tits pressing against the rough plastic. Her legs fell apart in a manner that had been trained out of her as a child, but revealed her dripping cunt and ass. Delightfully disheveled was the look she was going for and she was awfully close.

Sulmad stepped forward, and pinned her there with one hand in the small of her back, while the other drew little circles on her ass. "Skin's soft. A result of a lifetime in the shade, watching other people work." He noted.

The silence demanded an answer. She opened her mouth to provide one and he drove his pointer and middle fingers into her, all the way down to the hand and ground his clenched ring finger and pinky against her clit. Hard.

"What are you doing?" Alma asked, twisting back so she could look and inadvertently changing the angle of his penetration, sending additional pleasure signals to what remained to that pleasure, embarrassment and hate soaked organ.

"I assumed you wanted my fingers lubed up before I checked how tight your ass was." Sulmad explained, twisting his fingers and pulling them free, provoking a moan, not a response. He wiped them off on her back. "But if you prefer me to go in dry..." Spreading her ass was the work of a moment, listening to her objections took a bit longer.

It served its purpose, this time as he played with her cunt, taking the time to thoroughly coat each finger and pound her roughly. Simultaneously he played with her clit. If she'd had the presence of mind to ask, he would have excused this as an action necessary to ensure sufficient lubrication. But his hands on her, the situation and the posture had driven the arrogant noblewoman to the edge.

And then he stopped. Without thinking, her own hands rushed to take his place, to shove herself over the edge. Noble fingers did one of the few pieces of work they were expert in. And low moans ripple from her throat as she drove herself towards her orgasm. Just at the moment that she came, Sulmad ruined it for her, with three little words. "Enjoying yourself, whore?"

He left her, empty of all but her title.