SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot: Prologue:
Mechanical Monstrosities Need Love Too. As Do Their Mechanics.
Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously.
Sulmad patted down the corpse and smiled when he found the last part Celestra needed to repair the generator. He also found a couple of credits and a Separatist ID card on the poor bastard who'd tried to fight him. There was a man in the fort who bought the ID cards. Sulmad didn't know why. On consideration, he'd decided he didn't want to know. None of the options were good and if the worst one (he was collecting names, for payback on their families after the war) was right, he'd feel the need to intervene and that would cause trouble as the man was a high ranking Republic bureaucrat.
A quiet and careful jog back to the generator (he thought he'd caught them all, but the Separatists had a disconcerting habit of appearing out of thin air, without even the courtesy of a stealth belt) brought him into sight of Celestra's deliciously padded rear waving in the air as she continued to work with the parts that hadn't been looted. Upon spying him (when he dumped the parts at her feet, okay, actually right in front of her face, situational awareness was not a priority for the engineer) she let out a squeal of happiness which contrasted impressively with the tall, slightly plump woman's general air of stoic seriousness.
Calloused hands grabbed the parts and began the intricate work of repairing the heavy generator and installing the shields that would keep out any Separatists planning a return trip. A thrumming sound indicated that the latter part was done, though the generator itself continued to whine in an angry manner that suggested that the overload continued to approach. And now, Sulmad noted to himself, he was trapped inside, with the about to explode generator. Excellent.
"Damnit, Damnit, Damnit!" She whispered. Exactly the sound you wanted to hear from the woman working to keep you alive.
Sulmad didn't say anything. He didn't distract medics when they were patching him up, either, as he wasn't an idiot.
Long minutes of frantic working, during which the whine only grew in intensity, made remaining silent a difficult trick, but he managed, until she spoke up again. "I need help." She said with surprising hesitancy. It's not like he was going to say no, given the circumstances.
"What can I do?" Sulmad asked.
"When I'm facing a really difficult problem, I need, well, you met my droid?"
"Yes. He sent me here." The 'and this has what to do with what you need me to do to help you keep us alive?' went unsaid, but clearly heard.
"He fucks me. It helps me focus." She said baldly as the machine's whine took on an even higher pitch.
Sulmad almost said something unkind. Then he almost said something sarcastic. Then he almost asked a silly question. Instead, he stepped forward, behind her waggling behind. "It would be my pleasure to help such a lovely woman focus." He said, sincerity dripping from his voice, into a not-at-all sarcastic puddle on the floor.
"Thank you." Sulmad could hear the engineer's blush, both at the fact that she'd been revealed as one of the perverts who has sex with droids (it wasn't uncommon, but it was widely regarded as degenerate behavior) and that she was asking an almost total stranger to have sex with her.
Sulmad filled his mind with images of Alma in the stocks of his homeworld as men and women waited patiently in line to fuck her, after he'd finished, of course; of Lamalla on her knees, wantonly frigging herself as she sucks his cock before her board of directors; of Ryn fucking that Rodian bitch with her lekku while he sodomized her roughly from behind while she begged for more. That, and the swaying ass in front of him got his cock stiffening as she swung open the hatch that covered her ass and her pussy covered by a brown bush trimmed into a heart shape.
A gloved finger discovered her pussy was already soaked and her ass was firmer than he would have guessed from looking at her (there must have been serious muscle under that padding). Danger, rage, fear, all of these arouse some people. Though, from her description, frustration probably did more to get her hot than anything else. And she was certainly frustrated. Her droid's attachment must not have been particularly large, because while she purred for the first five inches, the last three provoked a gasp. Taking that as a hint, his subsequent thrusts were shallow as strong hands held her in place.
Usually he rather enjoyed the bouncy effect a hard doggy-style fuck had on a woman of ample cleavage like the plump engineer, but as she was working to save their lives, he didn't actually want her moving around that much. Suddenly the circular attachment her droid had had strapped to its back made sense. It was to be wrapped around her waist before the droid commenced pounding away.
Under most circumstances, Sulmad preferred an irregular rhythm maybe with a change of position, or a few sudden, unexpected changes or movements, but startling the woman used to fucking a droid, who was working on saving their lives was a stupid idea. Instinct and experience were surprisingly hard to overcome though.
Said control, along with the mechanistic actions made it hard for Sulmad to get into what he was doing and it was making other things less than rock hard. Forcing his mind away from the real, he focused on what could be. With the tape of her admission, and her degradation, Alma could be his whenever he wanted. That was without even considering the fact that she was spy for the empire. Having his own personal blonde aristocrat ice-queen sex-slave appealed to the smuggler. Or maybe it would be better to follow the trail up and see who he could catch.
Imperial Intelligence had to have its share of beautiful women who would be a pleasure to get to know. Maybe one of those Chiss. They were always so reserved, there had to be heat hidden there, somewhere and he was the man to lure it out. Or a Sith. That might be interesting. Electricity could be fun, in moderation. And as a group they were big on indulging their...passions. People ruled by their emotions were always easy to manipulate, especially if they thought they were manipulating you. It might be fun to watch the Sith's face when she discovered that she wasn't corrupting him, so much as he was using her.
In real life, of course, under those circumstances, he'd never let her know. But in the fantasy, her pale features contorted with anger, before she collapsed, poisoned. Sulmad fucked her traitorous apprentice a...Zabrak he decided, all red skin and horns like a sexy demon of older mythology roughly on the couch beside her dying master, plundering the proud Sith of everything, even her apprentice.
An apprentice, addicted to the spice she thought would increase her power, but instead increased her dependence on the man she'd thought of as nothing but a tool. He would ride her and he did mean ride her to the highest levels of Imperial society. Stealing secrets, hearts and cunts alike as he rose to the top, as well as being on top of his master/slave and every other desirable woman in the Emp—
