Revenge of Some Nerds on a Jedi

Vying with the recreation of Jabba the Hutt for status as their most technically sophisticated and budget draining prop, the "table" had been created by a group of engineering students Geraldine had recruited, working in collaboration with a couple of theatre tech enthusiasts. It had then been partially re-organised and covertly re-programmed by the boys currently occupying all the high-quality cosplay attire on stage.

The table was more-or-less round but not actually a circle, designed to be as wide as Amanda's outstretched arms, and as long as she was tall. The entire top could be mechanically tilted up on any side to an almost vertical position facing in any direction. And that was just the beginning of what it could do.

Now, having been captured by Imperial forces, Amanda was struggling massively and with deliberate ineffectiveness before being lifted by her arms and legs and placed on the centre of the table, exactly as had been rehearsed.

Compared to her experience in rehearsals, though, she certainly noticed that her big boobs seemed to be bouncing much more in her costume. But at least, she thought, it was mostly Mike who would be able to gaze directly at her massive cleavage in this scene. Mike in the Storm Trooper uniform, standing guard next to where shewas lying on the table.

If the audience had been much less rowdy, and if she had been listening carefully, she might have heard some giggling coming from behind that white helmet, where the boy concealed within was also finding it impossible to resist the gleeful urge.

But her being attached to the table by mock electrodes and actual restraints was being received with raucous cheering and applause, especially from the first few rows. As a result, the distinctly un-Mike expressions of happiness coming from the Trooper were not detected at all. Not with all the noise of this seemingly elated and very vocal audience.

Almost all of whom, Amanda now noticed, were guys. At least in the first few rows - the ones she could actually see. Everyone from the involuntary celibates of the role-playing games society, dressed up for the occasion as Star Wars characters, to the jocks and permanent-conspiracy-against-girls-on-campus fraternity boys, and seemingly everyone male in between - a significant cross-section of the local male population, and universally looking genuinely and surprisingly excited.

And also, Amanda now noticed, a few young women, a couple of whom she vaguely recognised as prominent members of the campus Lesbian Society. She'd never thought of them as theatre people or science fiction fans, but there they were, looking equally happy and alert and like they were anticipating further excitement.

Come to think of it, if she tried hard to look past the stage lights, there seemed to be people dressed as Storm Troopers or Darth Vaders scattered in surprisingly large numbers throughout the audience.

There were no rules against it, but a surprising number of audience members seemed to be taking video of the play.

At the conclusion of her mock-struggle, Amanda was lying on the table, legs supposedly tied close together at the end of the table, while her arms were stretched out to her sides and similarly supposedly restrained. It was impossible for anyone watching to not notice how Amanda's firm round boobs appeared to point directly up at the ceiling.

"You're part of the Alliance and a traitor! Possibly my daughter too, even if that doesn't really seem to matter to anyone, does it. So tell us where the Alliance is hiding?! Ok?" The computer simulation of Darth Vader's voice boomed out of the speakers, an electronic reinterpretation of the strangely high-pitched voice of, at the moment, the sweaty, only moderately over-weight nerd inside. The voice which was only one of the reasons the boy inside was usually too nervous to speak around girls.

As Amanda responded by performing her scripted refusal to give the Empire information, the Storm Trooper who wasn't actually Mike pressed a concealed button on the side of the interrogation table and it began doing whatthey had programmed it to do.

Amanda wasn't acting next, when her eyes went wide in surprise.

She had been waiting for the arranged signal, so she could begin performing the 'interrogation', when she would do a bit of writhing as if the 'electrobes' stuck to the sides of her head were transmitting some undefined but painful truth-inducing techno-science, which she would spend part of the scene courageously resisting.

But the signal never came. Instead, the table started to tilt, her head moving up while her feet moved down, so that she was progressing toward facing the audience front on.

Then the table top, no longer horizontal, seemed to jump, to leap up half a foot quite fast, and come down just as fast - just the table top, the legs and mechanisms built underneath not leaving the floor or even seeming to move.

Amanda let out a little squeak of surprise as she found herself going up and coming down, but her body as a whole moving just a bit faster than her substantial knockers, which thus bounced impressively. In addition they gave the impression that her bikini top could burst apart at any moment.

Confused and very surprised, Amanda looked around using as much head movement as her current position allowed, trying to work out what was going on. She looked at the Storm Trooper she still assumed was Mike, but as always his helmet was as unreadable as the unmoving mask of Lord Vader or Jabba's rubber face.

What the hell was going on? And why was Mike doing nothing to help?!

When the table suddenly rose again and repeated its tit-shaking motion, and Mike just stood there watching, she decided 'what the fuck, I never signed up for this!' and just pulled her hand and legs from the fake restraints to get off the table.

Or she would have, if those restraints hadn't turned out to be much less fake than they had been in rehearsal.

She didn't understand what was happening or why, but she couldn't get her hands free!

"Geraldine! I'm stuck! Mike?!" she broke character to exclaim.

Possibly worse than being stuck, this was also the moment Amanda realised her microphone wasn't working. Her words were not being broadcast!

Her eyes got even wider as they darted around trying to understand this new situation. The audience was certainly lapping it up. And, she realised as the table top jumped again, her image would probably be filling every one of the enormous screens in this immense auditorium.

Some of the cameras were documenting her head to toe; others were zoomed in on just her top half, following along with any and all bouncing. But between them all, there was going to be a thorough record, as the table began to do the little jump regularly. Or actually, she realised, not just regularly, but getting faster - with less time between jumps, and the jumps themselves faster, both the going up and the coming down.

Her big tits were barely restrained by her costume to begin with, and now seemed to get into a slowly accelerating rhythm, bouncing up and down and up again with lewdly increasing momentum.

The boys hiding in plain sight on stage were delighted - their efforts redesigning and re-programming the table couldn't have gone better - and all the boys in the audience watching almost equally so. As were the few but enthused girls occupying seats in the front rows. The boys and girls watching from the front rows were now trying to clap along with each bounce of Amanda's boobs.

With each jump of the table, Amanda's bouncing was getting more dramatic, and she and everyone watching knew it was only a matter of time before her top gave out - in retrospect it was remarkable it lasted as long as it did. Some quality costuming, but there was no way that fragile pseudo-metal bikini top was designed to withstand these kind of pressures.

While the audience was going wild watching those amazing knockers wildly bouncing, only those on stage could hear as Amanda's squeals of protest became exclamations every time her tits reached the bottom point of their bouncing movement: "ow!...ow!!...ow!!!"

Watching from backstage, Geraldine was just as surprised as Amanda, but had a very different view. She couldn't believe Mike had got Amanda to go along with this wild improv, but since it was the two of them up there doing it she could only be grateful he had. Well done Mike! What a lovely surprise! The audience was clearly loving it and, while the performers were not exactly following Geraldine's script, this was exactly the kind of raunchy fun she had always wanted, and encouraged!

"Make sure we don't miss a moment of the Princess in trouble!" she instructed the boys working the cameras via their earpieces. They would enthusiastically comply, the cameras themselves becoming lascivious voyeurs as camera operators worked to not miss a thing.

Looking up at a screen and seeing Amanda's mouth moving like she was squealing, but being unable to hear her at all, Geraldine quickly switched so her voice could be heard by all cast and crew. "Guys, I don't think Amanda's mike is working! You're going to have to improvise around her missing dialogue until we can get it fixed! Tech team, you need to get on this.Fix it!"

The Jabba nerd, though sweating in his thick, hot monster suit, couldn't stop himself from rubbing his fake hands together gleefully as he heard Geraldine. He was already enjoying the show and smiling widely anticipating what was about to happen.

Under enormous strain, at the end of the biggest bounce so far, Amanda's top just snapped in the middle between her breasts, the fake-metal halfs flying out to the sides as her tits burst fully into view. The audience burst into wild applause and laughter.

Even in a large group of people out for an evening at the theater, it turned out there were many eager to wolf whistle an apparent wardrobe malfunction. Amanda's squealing response, while objectively very loud, was only barely audible by even the closest people in the first row, and the few members of the cast or crew who detected her sounds of alarm simply attributed them to Amanda's proclivity toward method acting. Sooner or later, Stanislavsky hadeveryone squealing.

And over the whooping and cheering and laughter, all merging into the crowd's roar, you could still imagine you were hearing a dozen cameras zooming in to capture the moment. And from the quantity of video that would be soon uploaded to websites across the internet, it wasn't just imagination.

Exposed to a gleeful crowd like a deer caught with her headlights out, Amanda's nipples were like little cherries on what seemed to be the most perfect boobs anyone had seen - boobs currently still moving enough to stall proper, thorough examination, but evidently spectacular, the kind of curves wet dreams are made of. Though her face going pink could be seen on the huge screens, Amanda's inarticulate but surely unmistakable objections were audible only to those actually on stage.

The table stopped its programmed jumping, but Amanda's struggles to try to free her hands or legs kept her chest bouncing around. Though not as rhythmic, it was if anything even more erotic to many watching. Those big round tits bounced chaotically, bouncing into each other, bouncing in all directions, like they were putting on a performance for everyone and it was a slapstick dance show.

Geraldine decided it was time to get back in everyone's earpieces again. "Ok, I know we have a problem, but are you guys planning a return to any version of the script at some point, or did we schedule a dadaist insurrection and I forgot?"

And then the technological marvel of the 'interrogation table' started following its next set of instructions, and Geraldine's effort to take back some kind of control was sidelined, forgotten as her mouth fell open.

Inescapably attached to the table, it was almost like Amanda was standing, topless, facing the audience with her arms open wide like she was offering the whole room a hug. In truth neither she nor the table were quite vertical, but rather were leaning back about five degrees, with her feet not actually touching the floor. The restraints on her wrists and ankles were wide and well-designed enough to not restrict her circulation, but sturdy enough to prevent her from getting her hands free.

Amanda's face was reddening even more as one videoboy, Brian, rushed over to kneel in front of her, winking up at her as he pointed the camera her way, so that her big round tits and shocked face could fill an enormous screen (and the many smaller screens of those watching on-line from elsewhere, of course).

But Amanda's mouth fell open entirely, just seconds before Geraldine was rendered similarly speechless, as Amanda began to feel, and then could just about see, her legs being pulled open, the attachments on her ankles slowly, steadily sliding toward the sides of the table. She tried with all the strength she had to keep her legs together, but they were steadily being forced apart.

The response from the crowd felt almost deafening as they also realised what was happening to the gorgeous blonde. In part because what was happening was also being shown in close-up on several large screens.

Amanda had been heavily involved in gymnastics in an earlier period of her life, before her breasts became too large for a career in that sport to be possible.

Her body's resulting flexibility was soon on display, as Amanda's feet were being pulled apart so far that soon it was as if she was effectively frozen doing the splits in mid-air, several feet off the ground, except attached to this fancy damn prop.

The bottom half of the dancing girl costume had always looked to Amanda like an insanely long, thin loincloth, leaving most of the wearer's legs exposed - and in this version of the outfit, almost all of the wearer's legs on display.

With her stuck there topless, her legs sticking out to the sides almost horizontally, the thin cloth was hanging straight down for several feet between her legs, about three inches wide of material covering her crotch.

Beneath the sort-of-loincloth - "beneath" in a somewhat technical sense, given how little of them was even obscured by the loincloth - she wore the costume's boy shorts, being in this version so abbreviated as to be closer to small bikini bottoms in terms of coverage.

Moving awkwardly in his full body Jabba suit, the fattest member of the nerd conspiracy in by far the largest costume positioned himself in front of Amanda on stage, while being careful to block as little of the view as possible. Gesturing to Brian, the video boy dressed as an Imperial janitor, the boy inside Jabba waited a few seconds until the camera was back again, pointing up at Leia with her legs stretched obscenely apart.

Then he reached forward under the loincloth and grasped the bottoms to which the loincloth was ultimately attached.

If anyone watching could read lips they would have seen a wide-eyed Amanda looking at Jabba and exclaiming "what are you doing?!"

After a pause, and with a flourish as dramatic as he could manage given the physically constrictive nature of being Jabba and of using these ridiculous rubber arms, he suddenly used all of his strength to simply rip off the entire time bottom section of Amanda's costume.

In an instant Amanda went from embarrassingly topless to full-frontal nude, legs spread literally as far as physically possible, wearing only her boots, her mouth falling open.

"Well, I didn't seethat coming!" Lord Vader's booming voice declared through speakers all around. "I was merely going to share some thoughts on the subject of sand!"

If the audience was noisy before, that was nothing compared to the explosion of sound now, as Amanda's naked body was displayed. One enormous screen was filled solely with a close-up of her pussy, including the tiny tuft of blonde hair above her pussy lips. And because her legs were spread so obscenely wide, the close-up of Princess Leia's snatch - by the next moment filling two huge screens, and of course thousands of monitors and laptops via the 'net - nicely caught how her pussy lips had been slightly pulled open. The camera capturing her exposure head-to-crotch thus managed to demonstrate that the inside of Amanda's pussy was a very similar shade of pink to the colour of her face when flushed with humiliation.

"Who knew the Princess was a real blonde?" Jabba commented, as the boy within the huge costume laboriously worked a hand free of the rubber Jabba arm in which it had been encased.

Her eyes bugging out watching from backstage, Geraldine said, wonderingly, "wellI didn't see that coming either!" She adjusted the communications system so that for a moment only the person in the Storm Trooper costume on stage could hear her. "Mike, Ilove what you're all doing up there and I don't want to distract or second-guess anyone, but, just for my peace of mind, could you just nod for me if Amanda has really agreed to go along with all this?"

Grinning inside the helmet of an Imperial Storm Trooper, the boy who wasn't Mike turned his head to gaze off backstage toward Geraldine and vigorously nodded, at the exact moment the very human fingers formerly animating one of Jabba's arms reached out to his side and started squeezing Amanda's big left tit, her cherry nipple in the middle of his palm as he freely and very publicly groped the mortified actress.

Even as Amanda felt her breast being played with, her nipple pinched, the thought finally hit her:That wasn't Mike in all the Storm Trooper armour!

Now, as fictional beings go, Jabba is a big boy. Maybe not for a Hutt but certainly compared to the people with whom he has been seen. And, though not nearly as large as the on-screen original, the apparatus which now re-created Jabba on stage was also big, and, more to the point,wide.

As a result, when he manoeuvred this huge body around to be standing directly in front of Leia, Jabba actually blocked the entire audience's view of Amanda's naked body. There were scattered boos as Amanda could only be seen from the neck up, over and slightly to the side of Jabba's fat head, which seemed like it was gazing amusedly at the audience like a giant slug with the grin of a Cheshire Cat.

Back to selectively half-following Geraldine's script, the nerd buried inside Jabba used the one fully functional Jabba arm to reach for a fold in the suit's enormous belly. After a bit of fiddling, and much to the audience's surprise, he proceeded to pull out a large, very thick Hutt cock, nearly twenty inches long, almost five inches wide, and a little miracle of practical theatrical effects, getting a fantastic response from the audience as it went from dangling in a heavy-looking, fleshy way to jutting straight ahead like an iron bar in about ten seconds, a surprisingly realistic-seeming recreation of what such a massive penis becoming erect might look like, complete with a certain amount of Hutt precum leaking from the bulbous cockhead.

In rehearsal, the moment they were playing communicated the absurdity of the unspoken but unsubtle sexual overtones of Jabba and Leia's scenes in Return of the Jedi. And of course no-one would believe sexual penetration of an actual human woman would even be possible, not with that thing.

So when Jabba was slowly turned away from the audience to face Leia on the more-or-less vertical table, blocking their view, no-one would have thought the implied interspecies sex was actually about to happen; that obviously wasn't really the point, no matter how much Jabba's huge body had been constructed to allow movements which from behind looked like the entire middle of this rubber body was thrusting away, very overtly suggesting that idea. It was an amusingly obscene theatrical illusion, that's all, even if Geraldine had needed to spend quite some time convincing Amanda to do the scene.