Shaak Ti: Above & Beyond 01

CORUSCANT SPACE - 19 BBY

The Invisible Hand, a Providence-class dreadnought and the flagship of General Grievous, Dooku's droid protégée and the Separatist's chief military strategist, fled Coruscant just as fast her sublight engines would carry her, pursued by Jedi fighters and Republic battleships desperate to catch up before she reached open space and jumped to lightspeed. Vulture droids poured like a swirling cauldron of death from her ample hangar bays, while her turbolasers blasted away at anyone unfortunate enough to get too close. Anything to protect her prize: a prisoner so important his fate alone could well decide the outcome of the war.

Supreme Chancellor Palpatine.

Luckily for him, one tiny ship managed to evade the vulture droids and turbolasers, Jedi Master Shaak Ti shedding her robe as she jogged barefoot out of the hangar bay (for better traction) and left behind a pile of destroyed battle droids. A Togruta, a holomodel-tall humanoid alien, she had ample breasts and the slender, well-toned body of a professional athlete, her supple red skin gleaming with sweat as she jogged down the corridors, her big purple eyes on the lookout for any sign of the Chancellor. Instead of hair she sported two great white montrals (hollow, cone-like horns protruding from the top of her head), as well as a thick gray headtail hanging down her taut back, with two shorter, slenderer tails dangling from the sides of her head where a human's ears would be. Combined with the large oval patches of white skin around her colorful eyes, she looked more like Naboo's Queen wearing one of her ridiculous headdresses than a member of the revered High Council. Or, as Depa Billaba liked to say, a beautiful flower that had sprung legs and breasts.

Even with Force-enhanced speed she almost didn't react in time, hurrying around a corner to find the sparking end of an electrostaff swinging toward her face with skull-crushing strength. Drawing on her stripper-like flexibility, she bent backwards and just barely dodged the attack, her feet flying into the air as she flowed into a forward-moving backflip. She snapped her lightsaber on in mid-air, the blue laser blade flashing as several attackers rushed her before she even landed.

MagnaGuards—four of them.

Taller even than her, the gray humanoid battle droids moved like lightning and wielded lightsaber-resistant staffs that made them so formidable even seasoned Masters dreaded facing them. Grievous's personal bodyguards, it was a testament to her reputation that he had sent them to delay her instead of the usual army of spindly droids she would have cut through like a hot knife through jizz butter.

Delay. If they didn't actually succeed at cutting her down as they had so many Jedi before her, which wasn't as ludicrous these days as it might once have seemed. A dark shroud had descended over the Jedi after Geonosis, making it difficult to fully utilize the light side of the Force. Here on the Invisible Hand, it had become much more than a shroud—it was like being blindfolded in the dark with stun-cuffs around her wrists and ankles.

An electric thwack echoed off her skull, dropping her to her knees. A follow-up attack sent her lightsaber skittering down the hallway. Before she could move to defend herself, a sparking electrostaff swung down at her head with enough force to cave it in.

"Ah, Master Ti."

The staff stopped instantly. Shaak held her breath, staring blurry-eyed at the sizzling weapon hovering above her while the voice of General Grievous wheezed out of the intercom.

"How nice of you to join us. I look forward to making you a permanent member of my crew."

Shaak shook her head clear. "In your dreams, General."

"Ah. Feisty to the end." A considered pause, and then an order. "Don't kill her."

His MagnaGuards snapped into action, the electrostaff withdrawing before someone grabbed her by her long slender throat and hauled her to her feet. Shaak didn't resist, remembering all too well the psychological damage inflicted on Depa Billaba when Grievous captured her early in the war. She looked away as they tore off her clingy black top and high-waisted battle skirt, not out of shame but because she knew it was all being recorded. The Order's reputation had already been burned by Serra Keto's behavior on Geonosis, Scout's antics on Vjun, and recently leaked vids of Darsha Assant kriffing the Sith Lord who killed her Master and Qui-Gon Jinn; after what happened to Depa, the sight of a second Council member enjoying her droid rape would be like pissing on the ashes.

Stripped bare, Shaak lifted her chin and held her shoulders back, hiding nothing from her captors. Her breasts looked even bigger without pesky clothes getting in the way, heaving with every breath, her dark gray nipples hard like durasteel. Although nearing middle age, her alien genes gave her a youthful appearance, along with the kind of flat, chiseled midsection even fit teenagers like Olee Starstone envied, her lean muscles guiding the eye to her laser-smooth pubic mound, the red skin glistening in the dull corridor lights.

With the right programming even a droid could find a female arousing, the clang of large multi-segmented dongs falling from their crotches making Shaak shudder. At her age and experience it would have been a miracle if she hadn't kriffed a droid before, but no matter how many artificial dicks she pleasured having sex with a machine was something even a slut like her never quite got used to. It was like kriffing a big walking sex toy: no soul, no passion, only raw pleasure.

The MagnaGuard that nearly killed her put a big metal claw on her head and shoved her down on her knees. Shaak groaned, knowing what was coming even before his cock rose up and snapped to full hardness, flinging precum across her juicy red tits. The other three followed suit around her, Shaak staring at the long slender prick swaying in front of her, mouth watering as oily prejizz dripped from the fat mushroom head. Above her, red photoreceptors glowing bright, the droid waited without expression. For other women that might be a turn-off, but Shaak knew that on the other end Grievous, Dooku, and maybe even the Supreme Chancellor were watching, their cocks rock-hard at the sight of her perfect model body and striking alien face.

There was no sense in delaying the inevitable, Shaak centering herself in the Force and licking her pouty gray lips before grabbing the cock at the base and spitting on the head. The droid shuddered, pleasure a necessary component of his programming. Shaak suppressed a grin, staring up at him as she leaned in and licked the tip with her long alien tongue, lapping up a huge glob of tangy artificial cum. Her machine lover shuddered again—and this time she attacked, pushing forward and parting her lips just enough to admit him, delicate flesh and sharp Togrutan teeth sliding across his sensitive metal surface. It wasn't the same as blowing a flesh and blood male—more like sucking a cold dildo—but she adapted quickly, taking half his length before sealing her lips and drawing back, cheeks hollowing as she sucked the entire way.

Everything moved so quickly after that, Shaak bobbing her head while the other droids gathered around and offered her identical monster dongs to play with. She managed to keep calm, casually taking one in each hand and jerking hot prespunk all over her jiggling chest. A third cock simply dangled there, droids able to stay hard without having to stroke themselves; after eyeing it for several seconds she spit out the first dick and attacked again, making the newcomer issue an electronic grunt that sounded all too biological.

Back and forth she worked, tall and noble on her knees, big red tits dripping with spit and droid cum as she danced between cocks, always jerking two throbbing shlongs while giving the others quick but powerful sucks. She moved like the veteran cock motel she was, giving each dong equal time while doing her best Varina Kadaara imitation. (Varina: one of the many young holopornstars who had sprung up around the time of Geonosis, when the Clone Wars began.) It wasn't long before she had all four swaying on their taloned, magnetic-locked feet. Their expressions didn't change, but she had been intimate with similar models and knew the telltale signs of impending orgasm. Yet instead of slowing down she sped up, pouring everything into her work. Moments later, they all let out a painful digital squeal, Shaak flinching away just as every cock opened up in unison and sprayed her face, neck, and tits with hot oily spunk. There was no escaping the disgusting surge of fake cum, Shaak whimpering under her breath as she struggled to restrain herself, her inner slut longing to open up and gobble it all down. With her alien reflexes and long Togrutan tongue, she could have caught every drop as easily as a Gungan snatched flies off eopie poodoo.

Oily jizz poured down her face and headtails, dripping all over her soaked tits and leaving sticky trails down her flat stomach and smooth pubic mound before splattering on the floor. It would take a good scrubbing before she felt clean again, and she could only imagine what she must have looked like to whoever was watching on the other end of those photoreceptors.

Oh well, she thought, taking calming breaths. It wasn't the worst thing to happen to her during the war, or even that week.

The droids shuddered, programmed with a refractory period to keep them from overheating after expending so much oil. Sensing opportunity, Shaak seized on their post-orgasm exhaustion and summoned her lightsaber with the Force, droid semen flying as she rolled forward to meet it. The MagnaGuards reacted instantly, but it was already too late, Shaak snapping the thrumming weapon back on and casting a flickering blue glow over her naked body.

The fight was on.