SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot 01

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A Star Wars smuggler's bad day ends with a bang.
2.4k words
4.48
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17

Part 1 of the 11 part series

Updated 08/30/2017
Created 01/29/2012
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Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously.


She caught his arm as he walked past and was surprised to suddenly find herself at blaster point. Tweeta was a dab hand with a blaster herself and she hadn't even seen him move. "You want something?" He asked evenly, hands as steady as his voice. Emerald eyes blazed, pulling her attention from the blaster and the scars surrounding his mouth.

"Whoa there, I was just going to say that if you need any new tricks, you should see my cousin, Wentell. He's got some new mods that might be of interest to someone in our line of work." She said, keeping her hands well away from the blaster holstered at her hip. After long years of dealing with non-Rodians, she didn't release any of the pheromones that would have signaled peace, surrender, even arousal, as non-Rodians tended to find them all indistinguishable and nasty. Antagonizing the Human in front of her wouldn't have been high on her list of priorities even if he hadn't had a blaster on her. Well built, about her height and with the grace of an experienced combatant, even the soldiers trolling the refugee camp for pussy, credits, traitors or all three gave him a wide berth.

"Thanks for the tip. I'll give you one. Don't go grabbing folks you think work the shadow path. Good way to end up dead. Even when they haven't just been betrayed, robbed and hijacked." Sulmad replied, holstering his weapon and walking away without looking back at the athletically built Rodian.

She snorted loudly and headed into the base herself, heading for the local cantina. A stiff drink was just the thing to steady her nerves after coming so close to death. Several drinks later she spotted him. The same smuggler, tight pants, fast hands, chatting up the girl behind the bar. A Twi'lek slut, blue skin with black stripes, her lekku twitching as she laughed at whatever cornball line he was feeding her. The slut had a body built (probably literally, Tweeta thought vindictively) for fucking, slim waist, full breasts, long legs, lips that belonged wrapped around cock...

Tweeta had about enough of being ignored in favor of Twi'leks, damn tailheads thought that just because everyone wanted to enslave them, they were hot shit.

This made sense in her alcohol and anger soaked mind.

It didn't help that she'd left Rodia when she found her previous mate balls deep in a Twi'lek slave girl's ass. After killing both of them, a change of scenery seemed in order.

She staggered to the bar. "Damn tailhead cunt, none of you have ever been able to keep your legs closed, maybe I should close 'em for you, permanently." She slurred, reaching for her blaster.

Sulmad caught her arm and twisted it behind her, slamming her hard against the bar. Her scaled skin took most of the blow, but it was enough to daze her and his hold never loosened. The only way she was rising was if she was able to rip her own arm off.

"Someone's had a bit too much to drink." Ryn said, sweetness dripping on Tweeta's ears like acid. "Dump her in the back to sleep it off."

"The back?" Sulmad asked.

"Follow me." The Twi'lek woman turned, her lekku twitching almost as much as her tight ass, under her skin-tight pants. Though there was no contest when it came to what Sulmad was looking at.

The smuggler casually took the blaster from her hip, not even bothering to cop a feel of the her lush ass, which offended her rather more than taking the liberty would have. Despite being approximately her height, he was still strong enough to immobilize her quite expertly as he dragged her behind the bar to the complete disinterest of the other patrons. It might have been different if she hadn't been so drunk she could barely stand.

The back room was just a storage space. There was a mattress in the corner where Ryn could get some sleep when she didn't want to hike back to the refugee camp surrounding the base, but other than that it's only amenity was an ample supply of crates and pipes. "You sure you just want to leave her back here? I wouldn't want her to get any ideas about bruising your pretty face." Sulmad asked.

"Or shooting it, slut." Tweeta snapped, twitching her snout in a manner that any Rodian would have interpreted as sneering, but that to everyone else was amusing.

Ryn smiled and produced a collar from beneath her bed. "Selective magnetic collar, keyed to this crate. She won't be able to get more than five feet away from it, at this setting." She explained, snapping it shut around the Rodian's neck before she could react. Sulmad shoved her onto the mattress and Ryn pressed a button on a remote she produced from her impressive cleavage.

Tweeta felt herself pulled by the collar right up against the metal crate, banging her head uncomfortably. "Whoops, that's the second highest setting, not the second lowest. Oh, well, you know how stupid us tailhead cunts are." Ryn said, before pushing another button and causing the pressure to ease.

"And why do you have a toy like that...under your bed?" Sulmad asked, turning to the beautiful blue woman at his side and dropping Tweeta from his attention with embarrassing ease.

"I had to leave behind everything I wasn't wearing, I wasn't going to lose the last of my things." Ryn replied, turning to face him.

"Terrible business, war. And why exactly were you wearing a selective magnetic collar?"

Ryn stepped forward so her breasts brushed his chest and whispered something in his ear.

"Really...Savrip horn? I never would have thought of that...no...no...excellent idea..." Sulmad replied, his voice growing more and more intrigued. "In that case, why don't we show her why folks hit on you and just hit her?"

Ryn slugged him in the shoulder. "Oh, you bad boy."

"Is that a yes?"

"Absolutely." Ryn agreed, nimble fingers undoing his belt and tossing it aside.

"Come on!" Tweeta snapped. "Get a room."

"We've already got one, little miss frigid, it just so happens to be the one you're tied up in." Sulmad said as he pulled off his shirt, revealing a mass of lean muscle, covered by scarred white flesh, half a dozen wounds from blades and a pair of blaster bolt impact sites decorated his torso.

"It's even soundproof." Ryn put in, removing her utilitarian, if quite tight shirt to reveal a plain white bra that contrasted extremely well with her blue and black skin.

Sulmad finished stripping a few seconds before the buxom blue babe, taking the time to make sure his blaster was within easy reach, before he closed the gap, pressing her up against one of the cold metal crates hard enough to draw a hiss from the alien. "Of course the door's not locked. Anyone could walk in and then we'd have an audience. More of an audience." He corrected himself, acknowledging Tweeta's existence. Briefly.

Ryn damn near purred at that though, before wrapping her legs around him and kissing him firmly. "Part of the fun." She whispered throatily, as she broke for air.

Sulmad grinned back at her. His rapidly hardening cock was pressed against a firmly muscled stomach, covered in skin as soft as silk. "No doubt." He agreed, though exhibitionism wasn't really a major kink of his, the way it obviously was for Ryn. The story she'd told, explaining how before the separatists rebelled she'd been a performance artist, specializing in exhibitions at the parties of the rich and corrupt (though on Ord Mantel, even more than the rest of the galaxy, the one implied the other). The sight of an elegantly, if skimpily, attired Twi'lek, bound, gagged and completely helpless brought many a gasp from the party-goers of Ord Mantel and even more credits into her pocket, before the separatists screwed everything up.

As her lekku caressed his face like a lover's hands, her own hands were busy, guiding his firm cock into her soaked pussy. A captive audience, radiating hatred and violence and arousal in equal measure was even better than the confusion, nervousness and arousal that she usually provoked. She moaned loudly as she felt the smuggler's cock fill her completely. Though her eyes were fixed on the Rodian's large, bug-like ones, savoring the woman's inability to look away, she set the muscles of her cunt rippling against his cock, using all her considerable skill to repay her rescuer and demonstrate her superiority. Her hands ran over his back, as her feet drummed against his ass, pulling him back into her every time he withdrew. She was rewarded with loud moans from the smuggler, though his hands were too busy supporting her to do anything to return the favor.

"I knew you were a whore. Or, did you forget to be paid again? That would just make you another tailhead slut." Tweeta put in, interrupting the chorus of moans rising from the rutting pair.

The Twi'lek bartender hit a button on the remote she'd stashed behind her, pulling the Rodian woman back so she was pressed against the crate on the other side of the room. Now she was literally unable to look away, as opposed to being hypnotized by the erotic tableau before her.

"Enjoy the show, bug-bitch. You need to ask if you want to participate." Ryn said, keeping her voice as level as she could as the human plowed her roughly.

He nipped her ear. "Focus on what you're doing, babe." He commanded, as his hands slid up hairless thighs to fondle her ass.

"What's the matter? Did I make you miss a stroke, slut?" Tweeta asked, despite her situation, the collar was pressed against the crate, forcing her head forward at a painful angle.

Ryn didn't respond, focusing on the sensation of being filled completely as the Rodian's complaints and insults assured her that she wasn't alone, that it was a shared experience. Her would-be killer's insults ran through her ears, directly to her cunt, mixing with the fucking Sulmad was giving her to form a deliciously explosive compound.

For Sulmad, the insults were not a turn on, nor was having someone at his back who he couldn't trust, or see. On the other hand, a hot blue alien chick was riding his cock. And then she was cumming on his cock. All her control and finesse went out the window, she was all over him, pushing back, her cunt felt like it was going to rip his cock off, her tongue was in his mouth and he was tipping over backwards for just a second, before he regained control and managed to spin them, so instead of him falling on the hard floor, she fell on the mattress, with him atop and inside her.

Now that he could see the Rodian, he was happier, not just because he could keep an eye on her, but because the angry alien's arousal was extremely obvious to anyone with a basic understanding of Rodian physiology. But for the moment, he focused his attention on the breasts that had been pressed against his chest, but which were now available for play.

He lowered his head, tasting one nipple, her sweat was surprisingly sweet, though the other Twi'leks he'd fucked hadn't been the sort of folks you tasted, more like the sort you tested. One of her lekku was playing with her other nipple, doing its best to extend the orgasm Ryn was experiencing. Her cunt hadn't relaxed enough for him to pull out, so he focused on her breasts and then, remembering she wasn't human, on her lekku as well. The sensitive appendages extruding from her head were abristle with nerves and, in her ultra-sensitive state, his touch and tongue and teeth were too much to handle.

She screamed loud enough to test the sound-proofing and hurt his ears. One of his hands was heading for her mouth when her other lekku plugged it, fucking her own mouth like it was a cock. The legs wrapped around him tightened, pinning him against her body as her cunt milked his cock. He'd tapped into something primitive, one of the reasons early Twi'leks had been valued as sex slaves, before most forgot it was for any reason other than sleek, elegant grace and beauty. Stimulated beyond control, she needed him to cum and her body was doing whatever it could to make him cum and to make her body receptive to his seed. Instinct controlled her lekku, her hands, her legs, her cunt, all trying to make both of them cum.

Ordinarily, sheer contrariness would have made Sulmad resist. He didn't. Her hands massaged his balls, her cunt sucked his cock and Sulmad flooded it with his cum and collapsed on her, enjoying her feel of her body under his, as her hands stroked his hair, her lekku, wet with spit and sweat came to rest on the back of his neck and her legs slowly fell away from his ass.

Her cunt milked every last drop of cum from him, then loosened enough for him to slide out.

He rolled over, careful to not squash the Twi'lek's lekku and lay back on the mattress, enjoying the afterglow.

Tweeta was silent. Though Sulmad couldn't tell whether she was awed by their performance or had just run out of pejorative terms for Twi'leks.

After a long moment, he stood up, awkwardly as if he'd been drained of energy and dressed himself. He gave Ryn a quick kiss, whispered an explanation about where he was going, suggesting that they get together again later, gave Tweeta a sarcastic salute, noting that the Rodian was crying and fled before that could make him feel guilty.

A blaster, a great fuck, and a paid bar bill, it wasn't his ship, the stolen shipment of blasters and hijacker's head on a stick, but the day was turning around. Hopefully his encounter with the local underground would go as well.

Ryn rose more slowly with a broad grin stuck on her face, at least until she say Tweeta crying. "What's wrong, little one?" She asked, walking over and brushing a tear from the Rodian's cheek.

"You wouldn't understand—none of you pretty people ever do." Tweeta said drunkenly, drinking in the view of Ryn's naked, sweat covered, damn near glowing body.

Ryn's bright eyes met the Rodian's black ones. "Try me, babe." She said with a tempting smile.

Unfortunately, this is Sulmad's story...

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AnonymousAnonymousalmost 12 years ago

awesome story i love my smuggler

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