Ahsoka's Task Pt. 02

A bolt of pleasure flew to Ahsoka's head, coursing its way up to her montrals. "Wha-What about Lord Sh-Sheel, my lady?" She asked through clenched teeth, getting no reply. Her head felt light and her knees weak. She is better than I am, Ahsoka thought, and slammed an arm against the walls of the elevator when she felt the cool digits of Lady Tranda worm their way up her skirt and into her vagina.

"Ahhhhhhh! Fuck me!" she said, disbelievingly. Ahsoka could feel the alien fingers against her walls, exploring. She was already bone-tired from her ordeal in Shiam's transport, and now this! It was too much!

Lights exploded in front of Ahsoka and every breath she took was a ragged cry. Her pussy pulsed under the assault, but that only seemed to egg on the invasive squid. Calm as ever, Lady Tranda Lady stood by her side; an outstretched hand was all she needed. The only emotion visible on that proper, tentacled face was a slight smirk of satisfaction.

On the edge, Ahsoka was about to fall when she heard a slight ding. As the elevator stopped, so did Lady Tranda, taking her hand away with a wet slither, leaving the Togruta to double over in exhaustion, knees bent. In front of her stood two cheerful-looking Quarren, who gazed back at the regal Lady Tranda and the panting Padawan with fluid dripping down her legs, staining the whites of her stockings as it did. As the smiles of the waiting Quarren faded, so did Ahsoka, hitting her head on her way down to the stone floor of the elevator of her molestation.

Chapter 4

The windowplaz facing the trackless depths of Dac's oceans threw dapple light over Ahsoka's face in the otherwise black room. She blinked groggily. "Where am I?"

A familiar face of tentacles and a lusciously full body appeared out of the dark. "My dear, you are with those who love you."

Ahsoka grimaced. "Lady Tranda. I suppose I have you to thank for right now?"

The Quarren noble leaned close to Ahsoka's face, breathing a reply. "Yes. We had fun in the elevator didn't we?" She tittered, a squelching sound almost unrecognisable.

"Hmm. Fun. Not the first word I'd use. I don't know, I think rape fits better, don't you?"

Tranda brought her hand around and cupped Ahsoka's face. "Darling, if you deem that rape, you might want to take note of your surroundings."

She did. A thick metal pole sprouted from the ground behind her like some industrial tree. Another pole spread out from it that held crossbars. Ahsoka was hanging by her arms, tied to the metallic gaoler with thick rubbery coral. Suspended, a cry of shock escaped her purple lips as she looked around. She was situated in the middle of a small hexagonal room, the right half of which had windows exposed to the sea. One and only one door could be seen, directly in front of the Togruta. Reaching out with the Force, Ahsoka made to grasp for her lightsaber, but it wasn't there. Though the Jedi had no fear, she could not help her big blue eyes widening.

"Why do this?" she asked, though it was only then that Ahsoka noticed that Lady Tranda was dressed differently. Very differently.

She wore an aquamarine corset that barely covered her pushed-up breasts. They were much larger than Ahsoka's own. For her lower body, all the Quarren wore was a tight G-string, of the same colour, exposing her pale and patterned arse. As she moved, Ahsoka realised that it was all some kind of leather.

"If you are to please my daughter, you must first understand what a Quarren lady likes to do, and have done to her. For that, I have lent my services."

Blue thigh-high boots were drawn up over her long legs, making her seem even taller. The Padawan, despite her captivity, felt a slight wetness between her legs.

"I was told by Senator Dowmeia," Ahsoka said, her eyes locking with her captor's, "That Shiam was different to you lot."

Tranda snorted her contempt and circled Ahsoka, a hungry predator. "My brother is a deluded fool, who sits in his chair in Coruscant, sipping Spice-Wine and making demands of everything else. Oh, he is quite right to think that the Quarren women are sexual idiots and general simpletons, ruled by the men. It needs to stay that way. Do you know why, Jedi Ahsoka Tano?"

Ahsoka shrugged. "Maybe you are actually sexual idiots and general simpletons, but you just don't want to admit it?"

The sound of the Lady's boots stopped. Ahsoka thought she had won a victory. But her next thought was only pain as Tranda, directly behind the Jedi, slapped her arse so hard she thought her orange skin was on fire. Ahsoka screamed, loud and long. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"No!" Tranda yelled back, and hit her again. "Our men are cruel, intolerant and unyielding." She took a deep breath, composing herself. "It is the women who rule here. They play war and we resolve it. We soothe their egos, we suck them dry. We are not fools."

Ahsoka assumed a face of innocence, despite the pain. "It sounds like you're all subservient slaves, but hey, that's just me."

Tranda's face was a black rage. She trembled all over and procured a whip, the handle made out of Dac coral, the tail a collection of Whaladon tendons. The Quarren stepped back, coiling the lash with piercing eyes. The next thing Ahsoka felt was a blinding pain over her tight womanhood, its coverings now completely slashed by Tranda. "Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrggggghhhh!"

The noble alien flexed her face-tentacles in satisfaction as she saw a thin red line above the Togruta's vagina. Ahsoka glared through tears unbidden.

"You better never release me, or I'm going straight for your watery neck, squid."

The statement amused Lady Tranda. "Ooh, I think you haven't gotten the message, little Jedi," she mocked, and drew the whip back again.

"Wait!" Ahsoka shouted. Tranda stopped. "What do you want, Quarren?"

"Oh, Ahsoka. I want everything, all that there is to be had. But right now, I want you to do what I need."

"And what is that?" The Padawan spat.

Tranda edged toward Ahsoka, until their faces were almost touching. "My daughter lusts after many things: men, women, inanimate objects. It's why you're here. You," Tranda stroked Ahsoka's bare slit with the handle of her whip, "are her teacher. But if you teach her the wrong things, she'll end up a mess, without purpose or direction. She'll just be a great whore, like you."

The Togruta's face was the pinnacle of doubt. Her captor continued nonetheless.

"If, however, I was in control of her learning, she would be on the right path."

Ahsoka felt the butt of the whip penetrate her. Fighting down a moan, she rolled her eyes in spite of herself. "And where does this path lead to, exactly?"

Lady Tranda Dowmeia's back stiffened, her arse muscles twitched, and she spoke as if she was addressing an insignificant speck. "She will become Senator of Dac."

At that, her captive's eyebrows raised. "Senator?" she echoed.

"Yes, my dear. We both know she has the potential. To succeed, she'll need to know how to get what she wants, and the best way to do that is through straight, hot, sex."

Ahsoka did not need to be Force-sensitive to see where this was heading. "And to learn this, she'll need me," she said, "who'll be in your service. Is that the way of it then, my lady?"

Tranda nodded. "Good girl," she praised, her voice dripping a dangerous sensuality. "You deserve a reward for that. Can I name it, little Jedi?" As she spoke, she flicked a switch on her whip handle, now partially buried in Ahsoka's pussy, and it started to vibrate.

Jolts fired into Ahsoka's body, their electric purposes sprinting into the pleasure centres of her brain. "Ohhhhh!" she moaned, her vaginal muscles involuntarily clenching themselves around the pulsing rod. In her heart, she knew she should never agree to this. It violated what she stood for as a Jedi, and as a citizen of the Republic. But her loins craved this vehemently. And she always listened to her loins. "I...I will do whatever...you...ask," she said, in-between gasps. "Just keep going."

"Always," Tranda agreed kindly. "Do you want to know a Quarren secret?" she asked, forcing the last inches of the vibrating torture-turned-sexual-device up the Padawan. Ahsoka thrashed, her coral bonds cutting deep rivulets into her flesh as the initial pleasure shot through her. "What!?" She asked violently.

Suddenly, the device stopped, and Ahsoka gasped in disappointment. Tranda kneeled down on the floor, a hairsbreadth away from Ahsoka's wet womanhood.

"We Quarren women are prized for this," she said, more to the Padawan's juicy cunt than the Padawan herself, and pulled Ahsoka's stockings down to her knees. Tranda stopped a moment to gaze at her captive's pussy. It looked unbelievably tight, its purple colouring contrasting with the orange of her surrounding skin. Tranda looked at Ahsoka's face, admiring her eyes, her montrals, her lips. Her lips! Dowmeia thought. Her cunt looks like her lips!

"Tell me what you're prized for, bitch!" Ahsoka pleaded angrily, frustrated, trying to remember that feeling of ecstasy so recently experienced, yet so long ago.

"Shall I show you, my little Jedi whore?" said Tranda, as she looked up at the Togruta's face.

Ahsoka glared back. "Please!" she begged, hoping that whatever it was would be akin to that thumping member.

The noble Quarren Lady simply flexed her face-tentacles, leant in towards the vagina, and spread them all over Ahsoka's groin. Her small, toothed, mouth grabbed a violet petal gently and held it there as she set her tentacles to work.

One slid straight into her, searching Ahsoka's depths, while another dove in right after and found her G-spot. Fires exploded inside her as Tranda worked her outer folds with yet another of those sexual tools. The Togruta looked down and hazily saw the bald head of her mistress twisting crazily; lapping up whatever fluids escaped her.

"Oooooooohhhhhhhhh, yeeeeeeesssssss," she cried, as Tranda started to pump her pussy with an increasing number of face-tentacles. All the while, Ahsoka Tano, Padawan to Anakin Skywalker, could hear her Lady grunting out a deep and moist chuckle. Whatever reasons the alien rapist had, Ahsoka didn't care. This felt too good. She wriggled her body around, pressing against Lady Dowmeia's devouring face, shaking her steel entrapment as she did so. Her arms were numb, having not been moved for what seemed an age, but her lower regions were on fire.

Tranda reached up and started to play with Ahsoka's breasts through her tube top, while still plunging three tentecles continuously into her. Everything felt so good! The Jedi gave herself up to the feeling, just as her engorged pussy would have done ages ago.

There was something very freeing about surrendering your body for pleasure, Ahsoka decided. She had already been conquered, so why resist?

She started to scream. Tranda had stopped kissing her purple folds and had committed every face-tentacle she had into drilling the poor Padawan. In and out they went, one after slender yet filling other. She felt like she was being gangbanged, but there were only two people in the room; the tied-up, helpless little Togruta, and the statuesque Quarren, dressed in leather gear and on her knees, eating out the former.

Tranda had saved the best for last. She drew back, with only the tips of her tentacles in Ahsoka, and a huge, thick appendage pulled out from her mouth. It was another tentacle, but its base dwelled in Lady Dowmeia's throat. Ahsoka saw, and whimpered.

Without further ado, Tranda Dowmeia lunged at the unprotected pussy, her swollen sword before her.

The Quarren drove into Ahsoka, pushing back any defence. The massive member wormed its way inside of her, and started to thrust, just as its predecessors had.

The Togruta screamed so loud the fish outside were startled, and swam away. Ahsoka could think of nothing else, just Tranda and her fury, mercilessly ploughing her into oblivion. She couldn't hold on. She let go.

Juices sprayed out over her captor's face, causing Tranda to reel back in surprise as she chocked on vaginal fluid.

Take that, you slut! Ahsoka thought smugly, still ejaculating her relief.

Tranda cried in revulsion and wiped the sticky slime from her face. "So you're a squirter, are you? Alright, I can work with that. But right now we have a dinner to go to."

She looked at Ahsoka. "Those are your only clothes," she extrapolated. "Don't worry, we'll find you some better Quarren garb."

As Tranda stalked out to find some clothing for her, Ahsoka sighed and contemplated her next move. She was now a puppet, her strings dancing her to a tune. But strings could break.

End of Part 2