Star Wars - Partners in Sex

"No," Ta'tan'ia responded firmly, before realizing she wasn't serious. "I'm ready."

Stormie opened the door, and gestured for Ta'tan'ia to exit the changing cubicle. As she stepped past her, Stormie reached under her dress and groped her ass. Ta'tan'ia merely flashed her a smile, and wriggled her lekku in appreciation. Even though she had sensed her intention through the Force, Ta'tan'ia didn't even consider trying to stop her. She just self-consciously pulled her dress back down. A few seconds later, they were out of the store, and on the station's main promenade.

Ta'tan'ia felt like everyone's eyes were locked on her as she strutted along the walkway. The only time she had shown this much skin around other people was at the gym, and that was mostly with Jedi, or friends. She found herself keeping her hands down at her side, making sure her the hem of her dress stayed in place.

A minute or so later, a question popped into Ta'tan'ia's head. "Hey, where's my lightsaber?" she asked quietly. Like any Jedi, she rarely went anywhere without it.

"It's on the ship, with the rest of your stuff," Stormie replied with amusement.

Ta'tan'ia ran through another Jedi calming exercise. Most of the people on the promenade didn't have weapons. She was perfectly fine without her lightsaber. She had walked all around the Capital District on Coruscant without any weapons. Sure she was only wearing plastex heels and a chastity belt underneath a tiny dress that might blow away in a light breeze, but she was with Stormie. And she had the Force.

By the time they reached the ship, Ta'tan'ia was more than a little turned on from all the attention she was getting from various passers-by, and the fact that she was submitting in public, even if it wasn't immediately obvious to everyone else. Once the hatch was sealed behind them, Stormie pulled her tight, and gave her a forceful, open mouthed kissed. Then she grabbed her right wrist, and pulled her towards the cockpit.

"Strip, and kneel," Stormie told her as she settled into the pilot's seat. "And fold that dress neatly, and lay it over the chair," she added, waving her hand towards the co-pilot's seat.

Ta'tan'ia promptly pulled her new dress off, folded it, and laid it in the in the seat, like she'd been told. Then she knelt on the deck, with her wrists crossed behind her back. Her knees were spread, with her heels together, and her ass resting on them. Stormie was busy arranging for their departure.

Baros space control gave them a five minute wait before they could launch. Stormie acknowledged, and turned to face her submissive Jedi.

"That's just enough time to get you secured," she told her, standing up. She glanced over, then picked up Ta'tan'ia's new dress. "You won't be needing this for a while," she asserted, stepping past her towards the rest of the ship. "And stay."

By the sound of her movements, she was in her cabin, Ta'tan'ia decided. She kept her eyes forward, and down, and waited, silently. A couple of minutes later, Ta'tan'ia sensed her returning.

"Stand up," Stormie instructed her, tapping her ass with her boot.

Ta'tan'ia quickly scrambled to her feet. Then she felt her fingers underneath the vertical band on the back of her chastity belt. Stormie pulled, and Ta'tan'ia obediently took a couple of steps backwards, stopping even with the cabin's hatchway, still facing towards the front of the cockpit. Stormie was behind her, in the corridor.

Next Ta'tan'ia felt her hands on her right wrist, and heard a maglock attaching to her comlink cuff. A moment later she felt her doing the same to her chrono on her left wrist. She glanced down to see about a forty centimeter long chain hanging from her comlink, with a small maglock on the end. A matching chain was attached to her chrono.

"I want the other end of each of those chains maglocked to the bulkhead," Stormie instructed her. "High enough to leave you on your tip toes."

"Yes Lieutenant," Ta'tan'ia answered, plotting exactly where to aim.

A few heartbeats later, Ta'tan'ia leapt a decimeter or so, stretching her arms upwards. As she did, she used the Force to guide the free ends of the chains, and maglocked each one to the opposite sides of the entryway. She landed on her platform heels, with her arms pulled straight up and out, but not quite taut.

"Not bad, Jedi," Stormie commented from behind her, giving her a light spank on her ass. "Now spread your feet apart."

That would put more of her weight on her cuffs. Still, Ta'tan'ia obeyed, and moved her feet to about shoulder width apart. Then she felt Stormie nudge her right foot further out with her boot. That put a little more pressure on her wrist cuffs. A few seconds later, she felt a durasteel shackle close around her right ankle.

Stormie pulled it a few more centimeters out, and Ta'tan'ia heard her maglock the chain to the entryway. Next Stormie repeated the process with her left ankle, leaving her chained to opposite sides of the entryway bulkhead.

Even with her fifteen-centimeter heels, Ta'tan'ia had to strain to stay on her toes, to keep most of her weight off her cuffed wrists. It was a difficult position to maintain.

"Fifty-two minutes," Stormie said into her ear, pressing against her back, and stroking one hand down her side. "So I think I'll give you fifty-two lashes," she explained.

As she spoke, Ta'tan'ia felt her crop tapping against her ass. She knew from experience how much her crop hurt. Fifty-two lashes was a lot.

"Yes Lieutenant," she answered obediently, taking a deep breath.

"Make sure you keep count, Jedi," Stormie told her, still swatting her ass with the crop.

"Yes Lieutenant," she replied promptly.

A few swats later, Ta'tan'ia winced in pain from a significantly harder blow.

"One, Lieutenant," she announced, assuming the lighter hits didn't count.

There was a slight pause, and Ta'tan'ia sensed another hard strike. She winced again, and gave Stormie the count. With the Force, Ta'tan'ia could both minimize her pain, and sense the blows. She could probably even turn off the maglocks securing her to the bulkhead if she really had too. Instead, she counted every lick Lieutenant Kintra gave her for the arbitrary offense of wasting her time at dinner.

Her winces soon turned to yelps of pain as Stormie systematically cropped her entire ass, and upper thighs. She strained to maintain her balance on the toes of her high heels while she endured her punishment. She felt her pussy getting wetter by the stroke as she pulled against her restraints.

Suddenly there was an alert notification from the cockpit.

"Oops, I guess we'll have to take a break," Stormie announced cheerfully, squeezing past Ta'tan'ia into the cockpit.

She settled into the pilot's chair, and acknowledged the alert. It was time for them to depart. They were only at thirty-six licks. As Ta'tan'ia suspected, the break didn't include freeing her. She stayed chained to the entryway, straining to keep her weight balanced between the front edges of her high heels and her cuffed wrists.

Ta'tan'ia watched Stormie pull the ship back from the docking slip, turn, and head away from the station. A few minutes later, they seemed to be clear of nearby traffic. Stormie programmed the computer to plot a hyperspace jump. Then without saying a word, she picked her crop up off the console, and turned her chair to face Ta'tan'ia. She stood up, took a step towards her, and brought her crop down against the left side of her ribcage—hard.

"Thirty-seven, Lieutenant," Ta'tan'ia advised her, wincing in pain from the blow.

"I thought it was twenty-seven," Stormie replied with a frown, pressing the tip of her crop up to her chin thoughtfully.

Ta'tan'ia considered how to respond for a heartbeat. She knew she'd been cropped thirty-seven times, but if Stormie wanted it to be only twenty-seven, then it would be.

"Thirty-seven, Lieutenant," Ta'tan'ia repeated respectfully, sensing that Stormie was just testing her.

"Well, let's add five, for disagreeing with me," Stormie commented with a cheerful smile.

"Yes Lieutenant," Ta'tan'ia answered, with a flush of arousal. "Thirty-eight, Lieutenant!" she declared as the crop struck just below her belly button, right above the waistband of her chastity belt.

A minute or so—and eight strokes—later Stormie had to stop to adjust the course again. Once she did, she returned to cropping Ta'tan'ia. At lick number fifty-one, she stopped long enough to engage the hyperdrive. Finally, they got to number fifty-seven. Ta'tan'ia knew she had welts all over her front and back. Her arms and calves hurt from being restrained like she was for so long, on top of the pain from the cropping Lieutenant Kintra had given her. She was also as horny as a kybuck.

Stormie walked up to her, their faces just centimeters apart.

"Now, Jedi, we're going to go back to my cabin, and you're going to put that Twi'lek tongue of yours to use," she informed her, freely wrapping her arms around her naked and glistening body.

"Yes Lieutenant," Ta'tan'ia answered breathlessly. Stormie's hands moved from her tits, to her chastity belted pussy, to her ass and in between seemingly all at once.

"And you're going to keep it busy for—" she paused dramatically, then added—"fifty-two minutes," reaching up and tugging her collar.

"Yes Lieutenant!" Ta'tan'ia replied eagerly.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

A week later...

Ta'tan'ia and Stormie had just finished their second mission for the Empire. This one had been pretty straightforward. Locate a group of criminals who were hiding out in Imperial space, then flying to nearby Galactic Alliance worlds to steal basically anything they could haul away. With the Force, that wasn't difficult. After they found them, a combined Imperial Security and Naval Assault team conducted the raid, and made the arrests. Stormie had even complained that the planetary governor should have done it months ago.

The first mission had been a bit more complicated. A local Prefect suspected one of his Deputy Prefects was stealing credits from Government accounts. There was even an electronic trail implicating him. He denied everything of course. Ta'tan'ia sensed he was telling the truth, so they began interrogating others. When they talked to one of the Prefect's aides, Ta'tan'ia sensed that he was lying about something. He had in fact been using the credits to pay for several expensive vacations over the past year or so.

Since they were in the Empire, Ta'tan'ia found it easier to just follow Stormie's lead most of the time. While they were on the ship, Stormie had kept her gagged and shackled pretty much all the time, and even stopped letting her wear clothes. Ta'tan'ia didn't count her beskar chastity belt and restraints, or her high heels; she was nearly as used to them as she was her permanent beskar collar and wrist cuffs.

Now they were landing at an Imperial base, to get a different ship. Stormie had explained that the one they had been using was designed for a larger crew, four or five people, so Imperial Security wanted it back. They were providing them with a smaller ship, since it was just the two of them. As they would be around other Imperials, Stormie had let her put on her armored bodysuit, along with her wedge-heeled boots. Underneath she was still wearing her beskar chastity belt. She had given Stormie control of it for another two weeks after the first week ended.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Stormie stepped off her ship—well, the ship she had been using the past few weeks—and onto the duracrete landing zone. A sharp-looking Army Lieutenant was waiting for her a half-dozen or so meters away, along with an enlisted soldier with a repulsor cart.

"Lieutenant Kintra, I presume?" the Lieutenant greeted her with a polite nod, stepping towards them. "And Jedi Ta'tan'ia," he added, nodding towards her as well.

Stormie nodded her head in reply, while Ta'tan'ia responded with a "Yes."

"I'm Lieutenant Rippon," he continued. "I'm here to escort you to your new ship."

Stormie paused, and pointedly looked around the landing zone, eyeing what was most likely her new ship. "Well, lead the way, Lieutenant Rippon," she finally said with a half-fake smile, setting her bag on the repulsor cart. Ta'tan'ia was carrying her own stuff in one bag, along with the rest of Stormie's in another. She put them on the cart, and they were on their way.

Just as Stormie had suspected, they headed for the small armed skiff she'd spotted a few hundred meters away. It was maybe two-thirds or so of the size of the one she had been using, that she'd taken to arrest that schutta Tahiri Veila. This one looked to be better armed, and newer, no more than a few years old. She was sure it would prove more than sufficient for her purposes.

"Were the modifications I ordered completed?" Stormie asked as they walked. Her eyes stayed moving around the landing zone, looking for anything... interesting. She could hear the rhythmic tapping of Ta'tan'ia's stiletto heels on the duracrete just behind her.

"Um, I don't know anything about that, Lieutenant," Lieutenant Rippon replied delicately. "One of your techs delivered the ship late last night. We only refueled it for you. He is still on board though, I believe."

"Oh, okay," she answered, still taking in her surroundings.

Stormie hadn't really expected Imperial Security to allow the Army to anything much past refueling or making emergency repairs to one of their ships, but it didn't hurt to ask. She would have been surprised if he had even known that she was making modifications to it.

As they approached her new ship, Stormie estimated it to be about twenty-two or twenty-three meters long, and a little less than fifteen wide—although it was harder to tell the width from her angle—with a single deck. It was dark gray and black, with a discrete blaster cannon port along the side fore, and an engine thruster aft. She wasn't sure of the exact model, but it looked fast and maneuverable.

"I think we can find our way from here," Stormie told him, as they as they arrived at the ship's hatch. She picked up her bag off the cart, and Ta'tan'ia grabbed the other two.

"Of course, Lieutenant Kintra, Jedi Ta'tan'ia," he replied, nodding politely to each of them before turning and walking away, the private following him with the repulsor cart.

Stormie watched them a a few moments, until they were several meters away. Then she tapped her wrist comlink a couple of times, letting the tech know they were ready to board. As the hatch began to open, she flashed Ta'tan'ia a smile, then stepped up onto her new ship.

The Imperial Security Technician was waiting for them a few steps inside the corridor. He was short, and skinny, but still had a noticeable gut underneath his gray jumpsuit.

"Harold Cason," he introduced himself with a friendly wave.

"Lieutenant Kintra," Stormie responded with nod and bland smile as the hatchway closed behind them. Then she turned to Ta'tan'ia. "Hey, go run a complete diagnostic for us," she told her with friendly smile, gesturing towards the cockpit. "I'll be up in a few minutes."

"Sure," the Twi'lek agreed with a nod.

Stormie watched her walk away, her eyes lingering on her sexy ass a few seconds. Then she quickly looked back, and just as she'd suspected, caught the tech checking her out as well. Stormie raised her eyebrows, and cleared her throat pointedly, causing him to look away guiltily. She didn't really care if he stared at Ta'tan'ia's ass, but pretending that she did helped put him off balance.

"So, Mister Cason, show me the modifications you made to my ship for me," Stormie told him, walking away from the cockpit.

"Of course, Lieutenant," he answered turning to walk with her as she passed him. "There are holocams throughout the ship, just like your ordered," he informed her, glancing at his datapad as they walked in the ship's main corridor. "Including enhanced definition ones in the interrogation room, and main cabin."

"Excellent," Stormie replied cheerfully, stopping and turning more towards him. He unconsciously stopped and turned towards her as well. "Now, will any of the holocams transmit off this ship at all?" she probed.

"No Ma'am," he replied promptly. "I set them up to record to a secure partition of the ship's computer, and nowhere else."

Stormie nodded her head thoughtfully, and slowly took a step forward, causing him to take a half-step backwards, stopping short against the bulkhead.

"Are you one-hundred-percent sure?" she asked. "No recording will get off this ship unless I do it?"

"Absolutely, Lieutenant," he responded.

She paused a moment, staring into his eyes. "Do you know who I am?"

While she primarily meant her reputation as an Imperial Security Officer, if he knew that she was the grand-daughter of Grand Moff Tarkin, that would be fine too.

"Ye—yes, Lieutenant," he replied nervously, sensing how serious the conversation was becoming.

"If any recording from this ship get out, I'm going to find you, and kill you. Do you understand?" she calmly informed him, taking another half-step towards him, their faces barely ten centimeters apart.

"Wha—t, um, Yes, Lieutenant," he responded, obviously scared.

Suddenly Stormie relaxed her expression and posture. "Look, you're just doing your job," she began. "Now if some of our superiors ordered you to set up a secret transmitter or something, then I understand." She paused a heartbeat, then said, "Just let me know, and I'll take care of it."

"Um... no, Lieutenant," he replied, "Nothing like that."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "You've got to be sure about this. No one has added anything into my holocam system without me knowing about it?"

"No Lieutenant," he answered, more sure of himself.

"Great," Stormie replied, suddenly smiling, and taking a step back. In a flash she was serious again. "Because if a single image from my ship gets out without me authorizing it, I will find you, and I will kill you." She smiled at him again, and added, "Understand?" straightening up the front of his jumpsuit.

"Ye—yes Lieutenant," he answered frightenedly.

"Great. Now show me around the rest of my ship," she said cheerfully.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"How's things going up here, Jedi?" Stormie asked as she stepped into the cockpit. She came to a stop over her left shoulder.

"Diagnostics are complete, and all green, Lieutenant," Ta'tan'ia replied. "And pre-flight is complete. We can request launch at your convenience."

Stormie ran her hand across Ta'tan'ia's shoulders, then adjusted her collar a bit. "We're going to wait until the tech is ready to take off. He's flying our old ship back."

"Okay," Ta'tan'ia responded, looking up at her.

"That should be just about enough time for you to strip," Stormie told her, reaching up, grabbing the strap of her head harness, and tilting her head back. She held her there a few heartbeats, and leaned down and gave her a slow, open-mouthed kiss.

Stormie held her head back for a second after she released her from the kiss, smiling down at her. She finally let her go, and nudged her head forward. Ta'tan'ia got up, and slipped past her towards the rear of the ship. Stormie watched her leave, then sat down in the pilot's seat, and began double checking the ship's status.

As she looked over the readouts, Stormie's thoughts drifted a bit. While she had didn't really consider herself a lesbian, she had had sex with more than a few women back in the Empire. Ta'tan'ia was her first Twi'lek, of either sex, though. She was surprised at how much she liked being with the Jedi. Although she did switch, she had always had a bit of a dominant streak, and Ta'tan'ia's submissiveness definitely turned her on.