Star Wars: Imperial Prostitute Ch. 04

Authoress's notes: The following story takes place soon after the conclusion of Legacy of the Force. This is the 10th Star Wars story that I have written. Please read and enjoy all of my stories, and vote me a five! Also, please leave me feedback, public or via email.

Star Wars: Imperial Prostitute SX-51412

Chapter 4 of 8

Twenty minutes later, Seventy-Two was in Admiral Garowyn's quarters, helping her out of her uniform. Chief Daala was in her luxury suite on board, under the Mandalorians' and her guards' protection. Seventy-Two was surprised when Admiral Garowyn told her that she could go back to her room without pleasuring her.

Five minutes later Seventy-Two was pressing her crotch against the scanner outside her room. Since Syal wasn't there, she could do what she was used to—which was using her pussy as a piece of Imperial equipment. Inside, Syal was sitting on the compact pouf-couch, watching a holomovie. She was wearing her uniform pants and undershirt. Her boots were sitting next to the bed, while her uniform top was lying on it.

"Welcome back, Jaina," Syal said, as the door closed behind Seventy-Two.

Seventy-Two stood dumbfounded for a moment. Oh yeah, she thinks I'm Jaina, Seventy-Two thought. "Having fun?" she answered. I guess I'll have to get used to being called Jaina again for awhile, she thought with regret as she pulled off her uniform cap and laid it on its shelf.

"Just relaxing," Syal replied with a wave of her hand.

"Great," Seventy-Two said as she carefully pulled off her spectacles and ear pieces, and set them on their charging points. Then she sat down next to Syal on the pouf couch.

"You're not going to change?" Syal asked her quizzically.

This was the only room on board the entire Admiral Daala, or anywhere as far as she knew, that Seventy-Two could take off her uniform on her own. Except her chastity belt, that was. Usually when Seventy-Two got off duty she immediately stripped off most of her uniform. The only problem was, she didn't think Syal was quite ready to see her corset and chastity belt.

"Na, I'm fine," she replied confidently.

Syal looked at her, obviously confused. "You're not even going to take off your jacket?" she asked.

"Not right now," Seventy-Two replied with a smile.

"Well then, let me see your chrono and comlink," Syal said with a conspiratorial smile.

"Sure," Seventy-Two replied with her own smile as she pulled her sleeve back and pressed the nearly invisible release on the edge of her chrono cuff. As Seventy-Two took off her comlink, Syal closed the chrono around her own wrist. Then she passed Syal the comlink, and she closed it around her other wrist.

Syal took a few moments to inspect the chrono and comlink, and her wrists in them. Then, strangely, she brought them together, with the comlink grill and chrono window facing out. "Do they lock together?" Syal asked earnestly.

Seventy-Two glanced at the door to her closet, where there were several sets of shackles, binders, and stun-cuffs. She already missed the feeling of durasteel around her wrists. "Those don't," she answered carefully, seeing if Syal would pick up the implication.

She didn't. The two spent a little while watching the holoscreen, and chatting. Usually at this time, Seventy-Two was busy getting ready for one of the Daala's Officers to come by for a visit, but while Syal was visiting, the ship's other ProCorps troopers were taking on her duties. With Chief of State Daala visiting, Seventy-Two hadn't made it to the gym today though.

"Hey, I got to hit the gym," Seventy-Two said nonchalantly.

"Great, can I come?" Syal asked happily.

Seventy-Two realized she had a problem. In the gym, there would be no way to hide her chastity belt. Then there was the matter of her changing, and Syal seeing her tattoos. She was pretty sure she could keep her from seeing her tats, though. Sooner or later, Syal would see more of what she wore underneath her uniform, and out of it.

"Sure, but one thing," she said seriously.

"Okay," Syal answered.

"You have to promise not to tell anyone, especially my parents, what you see while you're here."

Syal looked at her a couple of seconds. "So I guess I'm about to find out why Chief Daala specifically told me that all details of your Imperial duties are classified, and explicitly instructed me not to talk about them to anyone, especially your parents," she replied.

In the observation gallery, Chief Daala had made in clear that she was already well informed about the ProCorps. Syal's statement only confirmed that for Seventy-Two. "I don't know about all that, I just want you promise me," she responded.

"I promise," Syal said with a sincere smile.

"Okay," Seventy-Two replied as she unzipped her uniform jacket, revealing her collar and corset.

Syal's mouth fell open in amazement. "What is that?" she asked after a few staring a few seconds.

"My corset," Seventy-Two replied with an expectant smile.

"I can see that. I meant why are you wearing it underneath your uniform? Frakk, why are you wearing it at all?" Syal answered, still dumbfounded.

Because the Empire likes its prostitutes to be trim, was the first answer than came to Seventy-Two's mind. "It's part of my uniform," she replied simply.

"That is part of your uniform?" Syal asked with a wave of her hand to encompass both the corset and collar.

"Yes," Seventy-Two replied matter-of-factly.

"So you have to wear it all day?"

"Yes, and I even wear it out of uniform. I love them both," she said with a bright smile.

Now Syal frowned slightly. "Does it hurt?" she asked with concern.

Seventy-Two broke out in a grin. "Not a bit. In fact, I need to move down to a smaller size. This one is almost too big for me now."

Syal looked down at her waist. "I just thought you had lost weight."

"Well, I have, too. My Imperial diet is a bit more strict, and a lot better for me, then what I ate under the Galactic Alliance. My waist is down to almost fifty-five centimeters though," Seventy-Two said proudly.

"Wow!" Syal replied in awe. "How small are you trying to get?"

"Well, I'm not really trying to get 'small'. The ProCorps has strict appearance standards, is all," Seventy-Two explained.

Syal just shook her head. "What's up with the collar then?" she asked.

Seventy-Two reached up and pressed the release on the back of her collar. Then she pulled it off her neck and shoulders. "Part of the uniform," she replied. Then she remembered that she would want to wear her collar to the gym, and thus would need to give Syal a little more explanation.

"I have another collar I wear off duty," she added as she leaned over and pulled her favorite collar out of her night stand drawer.

This collar was five millimeters thick, and seventy tall. It was black durasteel, had a hinge at either side, and shut at the back of her neck. As she closed it around her neck, the hinges became virtually invisible.

At the front of the collar was a small D-ring, with a larger O-ring hanging from it. Along either side of the collar was Seventy-Two's official serial number, SX-51472, in easy-to-read silver lettering.

Syal watched her close the collar around her neck in stunned silence. "What's SX-51472 mean?" she finally asked.

"It's my Imperial serial number," Seventy-Two replied happily.

"Uh-uh," Syal said as she nodded her head. "And what's this for?" she asked as she reached up and flicked the leash ring.

"Decoration," Seventy-Two replied after a moments' hesitation.

"Right," Syal answered, clearly unconvinced. "What other surprises do you have for me?"

Seventy-Two had quite a few surprises for her, but she didn't think she was ready for some of them. "I do have something else to show you, but let me change into my gym outfit first," she said as she got up and walked towards her closet.

"Okay, but what about me?" Syal asked.

"They'll have something for you to wear there," Seventy-Two answered as she closed the closet door behind herself. Most of the time she liked to change at the gym, where she had a chance of showing off some. This time though, she didn't want Syal to see her tattoos, so she opted to change in her closest.

First Seventy-Two took off her boots and jodhpurs. Since the laundry chute was out in her room, she had to leave them on the closet floor for now. Then she took off the gleaming durasteel corset, and set it on its shelf.

Next Seventy-Two pulled her gym outfit out of another drawer. She pulled the skimpy black sports bra on first. Across the right breast was her serial number in small silver letters. The bottom of the bra stopped about a centimeter below her breasts.

Then she pulled the skimpy tight black hot pants on. The top of the hot pants stopped at the bottom of her chastity belt's waist piece, leaving it completely visible. The outline of the rest of the chastity belt was obvious as well.

The bottom hem came down less than a centimeter past her toned butt-cheeks. Her serial number was printed vertically down each side. The words Imperial Property, in much larger silver letters, was printed across her butt-cheeks, lined up perfectly with her tattoo underneath.

On the front of the shorts was the Imperial Emblem, also in silver, and lined up with her tattoo underneath. The words Imperial Prostitute, followed by her serial number, were underneath it.

Working out at the gym was practically the only time Seventy-Two didn't wear a corset. It was important for a ProCorps trooper to maintain maximum flexibility.

Short black socks and black gym shoes completed the outfit. The top of the socks came to the top of the shoes, and had her serial number printed along the outside of the top edge, in very small letters. All that was missing were her chrono and comlink, which Syal was still wearing.

Seventy-Two walked back out into her room and quickly but casually closed the closet door behind her, hoping that Syal wouldn't see anything too incriminating. While she was changing, Syal had put her own uniform back on. Seventy-Two wondered how long it would take Syal to notice the chastity belt.

Not very long at all, was the answer.

"What is that around your waist?" Syal asked after a quick scan of her outfit.

"My chastity belt," Seventy-Two replied with a contented smile.

Syal stared at it for several seconds. "Whatever," she finally said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Are you wearing the collar to the gym too?"

"Of course," Seventy-Two replied.

Syal shook her head again. "Whatever. Let's go."

"I need my chrono and comlink back first," Seventy-Two told her.

"Oh yeah," Syal replied absently. "I couldn't get them off."

Seventy-Two showed Syal how to take off the chrono and comlink cuffs, and put them back on her own wrists.

"I see you like your serial number," Syal commented as she noticed it on Seventy-Two's top and one side of her shorts.

"Very much," Seventy-Two replied sincerely. "Ready?" She carefully stood with her profile mostly towards Syal, hoping that she wouldn't spot her title, Imperial Prostitute, on the front of her shorts.

"You are really going to wear that collar to the gym?" Syal asked with a puzzled expression.

"I wear it practically all the time off duty," Seventy-Two explained.

"Whatever," Syal said resignedly again.

After a couple of seconds to make sure Syal didn't have any more questions, Seventy-Two turned and started to walk out of the room.

"What the frakk!" Syal said loudly, almost shouting, from behind her.

A startled Seventy-Two turned back to what was the matter now.

"Why does it say Imperial Property on the back of your shorts?" Syal asked incredulously.

Because I'm Imperial Property, and it matches my tattoo, Seventy-Two thought. But she couldn't tell Syal that. At least not yet. "Because the shorts are Imperial Property," she answered—truthfully, if misleadingly.

Syal stared at her a couple of seconds. "Your top doesn't say Imperial Property," she pointed out.

Seventy-Two admired her observational skills, even if they were annoying right now. "The Empire issued them to me," she said, again both truthfully and misleading. "I just wear them," she added. "Can we go now?"

"Yeah, yeah," Syal replied as she motioned Seventy-Two out the door. "I'm your wing."

The two women left for the gym. Even though the entire ship knew that Chief of State Daala was on board, Syal's Galactic Alliance uniform drew some looks. Seventy-Two however, drew stares and catcalls.

"Well, your outfit is definitely good for Morale," Syal said as the stepped into a turbolift.

"That's the idea," Seventy-Two responded happily. "Hopefully they'll want to. . . set up an appointment to talk about their morale," she added.

Syal nodded her head thoughtfully. "Yeah, hopefully," she agreed absently.

Finally the two arrived at the gym reserved for the ProCorps. Seventy-Two waved her comlink near the sensor for access, then escorted Syal into the changing room. There were lockers, but they didn't have doors on the front of them. ProCorps troopers didn't steal, at least from each other or the Empire, which was the same thing. Seventy-Two walked over to one of the guest lockers, and pulled out the workout gear that the Empire had provided for Syal.

"There's no way I'm wearing THAT!" Syal exclaimed almost immediately.

Seventy-Two wasn't very surprised by her reaction. The outfit was almost exactly like her own, except the sports bra, shorts, socks and shoes were gray instead of black. There were no serial numbers on it, but the words Imperial Property were printed across the back of the shorts in black letters.

"It's regulation workout gear for guests," Seventy-Two explained. She left out the part about it just being regulation for guests in the ProCorps' dedicated gym, and that she could go to another gym, and get something a lot more to her liking. After all, she thought Syal would look good in the outfit.

Syal looked towards the door, and the gym itself. "Don't you have any that don't say Imperial Property across the ass?"

"That's all that's bothering you? Don't worry about that, everyone in the gym will have it on the back of their shorts," Seventy-Two responded. That was true, since only ProCorps troopers and specially cleared guests like Syal had access to the gym.

Syal seemed to think about that for several seconds. "Fine then. But this better not get back to my parents," she said as she started taking off her own uniform.

"Who would tell them?" Seventy-Two asked rhetorically. She didn't mention that the ProCorps gym was fully monitored. Or that the live view was available for the entire ship, as a sort of advertisement for the ProCorps troopers on board. At least a couple of hundred Imperial personnel would see Syal's workout, including her outfit.

A few minutes later, they walked out of the changing room and into the gym. Several other ProCorps troopers were already there, working out strenuously. True to Seventy-Two's word, the phrase Imperial Property was prominently displayed on the back of all of the visible shorts. Seventy-Two also knew that all of them were wearing their chrono and comlink cuffs, and most of them a collar of some sort.

While a couple glanced their way, none of them even so much as nodded their heads or waved at their fellow Imperial Prostitute. Seventy-Two didn't hold it against them. When she was working out, she didn't like distractions either.

First Seventy-Two and Syal spent ten minutes stretching. Syal was surprised at how limber Seventy-Two was. For the ProCorps, though, it was only expected that she could put both legs behind her head with using her arms. Seventy-Two made sure to wink at the holocameras as she did as well.

After they were properly stretched out, they headed for the treadmills. All the equipment was computer controlled, and linked to the sensors embedded in the ProCorps troopers' crotches. However, like the sensor on her quarters, her comlink would work with these now. Seventy-Two waved her right wrist over the treadmill's sensor, and the treadmill automatically set itself for her.

Syal noticed what she had done, and asked about it.

"Oh, when I wave my comlink over the sensor, the treadmill will automatically set itself for me," Seventy-Two explained. She didn't explain how the computer controlled her workout, and would report her to Admiral Garowyn if she didn't meet her time or reps.

"That's what I figured. All of ours do that too," Syal replied.

Even from the warm-up jog, it was obvious that Seventy-Two outclassed Syal, who was in excellent shape herself.

Less than five minutes into the twenty minute run, Seventy-Two could tell that Syal had stopped trying to keep up. After the treadmill came the weight work. Seventy-Two had to scan herself at each piece of equipment. Today was upper body work. And abs. Every day was abs. Since the Empire didn't want muscular prostitutes, Seventy-Two kept the weights light, for tone instead of muscle building.

After the upper body work, they moved on to the swoops. Once again Seventy-Two left Syal eating her exhaust; at least virtually. Ten minutes later Seventy-Two's exercise swoop came to a stop, and Syal followed along. Aerobics was next.

Since ProCorps troopers worked out at all hours of the day and night, there was no large studio with twenty or more students in it. Instead there were a dozen smaller rooms, each designed for one student, but just big enough for two. One wall was covered by a two-dimensional holoscreen. As Seventy-Two and Syal entered, the holoscreen lit up, and a toned human female instructor appeared on it.

Seventy-Two waved her comlink over the sensor by the door, and the instructor immediately started Seventy-Two's personal, intense regimen.

Half-an-hour later they finished the aerobics, and the workout.

"The chastity belt and collar don't chafe or anything?" Syal asked, still catching her breath from the aerobics.

"Not at all, the chastity belt has a plastex coating on the inside, and the collar is ultra-smooth," Seventy-Two replied as they did their cool-down stretches.

"I still think it's strange to wear them working out," Syal commented.

Seventy-Two smiled back at her. "Tell you what, I've got another collar. Why don't you try it tomorrow, and see how you like it?" she suggested.

Syal looked at her collar for several seconds, deep in thought. "I'll think about it," she eventually replied.

They finished their cool-down stretching and headed for the refreshers. As Seventy-Two started to peel off her hot pants, she realized that she had a problem. If Syal didn't notice her tattoos in the changing room, then there was no way she could miss them in the gang-shower.

"Frakk," Seventy-Two said as she reached for her sports bra on the bench.

"What's wrong," Syal asked as she laid her own sports bra down.

"I forgot, it's my turn to clean the machines," Seventy-Two replied as she pulled the sports bra back on.

"They're not self-cleaning?" Syal asked, puzzled.

They were, Seventy-Two just needed an excuse not to shower or change with Syal. "I've got to um—double check the settings and stuff," she replied lamely. "It'll take about ten minutes or so, you go ahead and jump in the 'fresher," she said as she headed back towards the gym.

"Whatever," Syal replied, shaking her head in disbelief.

Seventy-Two went back into the gym, and climbed back onto the exercise swoop. Instead of waving her comlink over the sensor and letting the computer control her extra session, she just started pedaling at an easy pace.

As she was pedaling, Seventy-Two wondered what Syal would do if she knew that the gang-'fresher also had holocameras in it, and that they were also available to the entire ship. Then she wondered if Chief Daala and the other Galactic Alliance personal staying on board would discover this, and perhaps watch her in the 'fresher.