Star Wars: Transformations

"Yeah, I saw that," the the third gunman answered. He was busy trying to figure out how to remove her torso armor.

"Must be a bondage freak," another one added with an amused chuckle. "Right up your alley," he added, nodding towards the first gunman.

The first gunman barely heard his companion. He had noticed the durasteel around her wrists as well, and was already wondering just how into bondage she really was, and imagining all the things he was going to do to her, whether she was a submissive or not.

By now the third gunman had gotten what they thought was durasteel armor off her torso. Then he and the gunman who had injected her took off her boots and socks. Next they quickly uncuffed her, stripped her bodysuit off her arms, then re-cuffed her. After that they finished stripping off her bodysuit, and her black panties, revealing a toned, muscular body that was completely hairless except for her head. All of the swoop-bikers took a moment to admire their new prize.

"Frakking schutta," the gunman Tahiri had stabbed said in disgust. One of his buddies was wrapping a large bandage around his lower leg.

"I guess that gives you first dibs on our new slave," the second gunman said, pulling off his jacket to reveal a nerfhide vest with Zoloz patches on it, including one saying PRESIDENT.

"Hey, I'm the one that spotted her," the first gunman contended, pulling off his jacket to reveal his own Zoloz vest, and his V. PRESIDENT patch.

"Come on man," the wounded swoop-biker interjected, "You'll get plenty of chances to fuck her. Just let me have the first one."

"It's not my fault you let her stab you," the Vice President replied.

As they headed back to their clubhouse, the two Zoloz continued to argue over who would get to have sex with their victim first.

Once the gang got their victim safely tucked away in their clubhouse, they attempted to remove her durasteel wrist chrono and comlink. When they couldn't they got black durasteel bands to cover them, and especially to keep her from accessing the controls for her comlink. The bands had the swoop-bike gang's logo on them to show who the former bounty hunter belonged to now.

The Zoloz maglocked a five centimeter wide black durasteel shock collar around their new slave's neck. The shock function was there in case she didn't eagerly cooperate with their demands. It also had a tracking device in case she escaped. They hoped not to have to use either feature, but wanted them there just in case. Just like the bands they maglocked onto her chrono and comlink, the collar had the swoop-bike gang's logo on it.

They also got a fake ID for her, so she wouldn't accidentally discover who she had been. While they were getting that done, the gang also worked out the story they would tell her as she regained consciousness. The injection of glitteryll they gave her had wiped out her memories, and made her more suggestible.

Every time she began to wake up, the Zoloz built on the new background story they had come up with for her. They told her she was a chick who slept at the clubhouse, and had overdosed on glitteryll. They also told her that she slept with all of the club members, or anyone else they wanted her to. When she finally became fully coherent, all she would remember was what they had told her. After that, they would give her smaller doses every couple of days to keep her memory from returning. She was a glit-biter after all.

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

Nearly a week later . . .

"Hey Torri, bring me a beer," Dirc called from his poufchair, which was a couple of meters from the holoscreen, which had a shockball game playing on it. His lower right leg was wrapped in a bacta patch. He had been stabbed in a fight with another swoop-bike gang a few days ago. At least that's what they had told her; she didn't remember.

The blonde woman promptly got up off her stool, stepped behind the bar, and opened the conservator. She was barefoot, and wearing a pair of tight grayish-blue cut-off short-shorts, and a black crop top with the Zoloz logo on the front. A five-centimeter wide black durasteel collar was locked around her neck, and matching cuffs were on her wrists.

The cuffs had the Zoloz logo on them, which consisted of a stylized rancor on a swoop-bike, with both engulfed in flames. PROPERTY was in curved print above the logo, and OF ZOLOZ in curved print below it. The collar had the words ZOLOZ engraved in large silver letters on one side of the leash ring, SLUT on the other, and PROPERTY OF ZOLOZ engraved across the back. The Zoloz rancor logo was engraved on either side of the collar, dividing the messages on the front and back.

Torri was still getting used to being at the clubhouse again. She didn't really remember anything before her last overdose, but the few memories she had were good ones. They were mostly of her lounging around—naked except for some shackles—with various members of the Zoloz close by, often high, always happy. Several times she had woken up while one of them was fucking her.

They had told her her name was Torri Antilles, and that she had been staying with them a few months. Her identichit—which said she was twenty-nine—was dated nearly a year ago, so she had been here at least that long. Before that, she had no idea. She was wearing her collar in the holo on it, so she assumed she had been wearing it, and the cuffs, at least that long as well. The Zoloz confirmed that she had. She looked to be pretty high in the holo on the identichit too.

The swoop-bike gang explained that she had overdosed on glitteryll—again. As for the collar and cuffs, they told her that she was really into bondage, and loved wearing them so much she never took them off, and had that she had lost the remote to unlock them. The Zoloz logo was to show her allegiance to the club, and who she belonged to.

Even though she didn't remember much, Torri knew she was a bondage-loving submissive. She hadn't really been alarmed when she woke up shackled spread-eagle. She definitely loved it when Cyllir or one of the other guys cuffed her. Some of the other stuff might not quite feel right, but she didn't care. The sex was great, the Zoloz gave her plenty of glitteryll, crude, pleezer, and giggledust, and they let her walk around barefoot pretty much all the time, which she loved to do for some reason. She also enjoyed dancing for them on the stripper pole they had, and giving them lap dances.

She slept with any of the members when they wanted her to, but she mostly hung out with Cyllir, who was the club Vice President. He was also the most into bondage and domming her, so that worked out great too. She didn't really mind cleaning up after the Zoloz and everyone else that hung out around the clubhouse.

Once Torri got the beer, she walked over, and handed it to Dirc. He promptly grabbed her wrist, and she cooperatively allowed him to pull her into his lap sideways, leaning against one armrest with her legs over the other one.

"Thanks babe," he said with a leer as he caressed her bare thigh.

She knew he didn't really want an answer. The Zoloz liked their women to stay quiet, except in the bedroom. Instead she leaned in, and gave him a slow, open mouthed kiss.

When Dirc broke the kiss, he lifted the bottle to her mouth. Torri took a hefty swallow, then grinned at him as he took one. She kept grinning at him as he sat the bottle on the armrest, and then put his hand on her breast. His other hand went to the front of her shorts. Before he could do anything else though, Cyllir and Sid came in from the back part of the club house.

"Time to go for a ride, baby," Cyllir announced cheerfully. "You'll have to play with our slavegirl later," he added to Dirc with a chuckle.

Since Cyllir was the club Vice President, Torri knew she had to obey him. She knew that Dirc knew it too.

"Sorry," she mouthed to him with a wink, as she climbed to her feet. "Let me grab my boots," she called towards Cyllir as she headed to the back.

Torri pretty much only wore shoes when she was dancing for the Zoloz or had to leave the clubhouse, so she didn't have very many pairs. The ones she did have were mainly for her to look sexy for everyone, and not very practical—not that that bothered her.

She had one pair in particular for wearing on the back of a swoop-bike. They were black nerfhide platform ankle boots with silver platforms and fifteen-centimeter stiletto heels. The boots had a couple of wide straps with buckles going around them as well. The topmost straps went around her ankles.

Torri wrapped the straps tightly around her ankles, checked herself out in the mirror, and strutted back out to join her Zoloz.

She found Cyllir, Sid, and Dirc outside on their swoop-bikes. She quickly climbed on the back of Cyllir's, and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"So, where are we going?" she asked as they pulled away.

"Don't worry about it, babe," Cyllir answered with a smile, and a pat on her bare thigh.

Torri only had a couple of vague memories of the world outside of the clubhouse, so she didn't know much about the city. As matter of fact, she didn't even know what planet she was on. She made a mental note to ask Cyllir or someone when she had the chance. It wasn't that big of a deal though—as long as she was with the Zoloz, she was happy. Torri held Cyllir tight, and enjoyed the vibrations of the engine on her clit.

Several minutes later, a police speeder appeared behind them. Cyllir muttered a curse, and the three swoop-bikes pulled over and came to a stop. Torri let out a soft groan of frustration as the swoop-bike's engine came to a stop.

"You clean?" Cyllir asked quietly, glancing around.

Dirc nodded his head in consent, but Sid shook his once, and brushed his hand across one of his pockets. Torri guessed he had some spice or something on him.

"Well well well, if it isn't the local chapter of the Zoloz," the officer commented as he approached them. "Just a few swoop-bike enthusiasts, out for an afternoon ride?"

The officer was Human, perhaps thirty-five, tall, and looked to be in very good shape. He moved with an assured confidence while his eyes constantly scanned all three of the Zoloz, and Torri.

"That's right Officer Pratt," Cyllir agreed amicably. "We're just out enjoying the fresh air and sunshine."

"Hhhmmm," the officer replied skeptically. "Anybody got anything illegal on them?"

"Nope," Dirc answered quickly.

"NO," Sid told him pointedly.

"Of course not," Cyllir responded earnestly, while Torri simply shook her head, and twirled her hair with her fingers.

"Hhhmmm," Officer Pratt repeated. "Who's carrying a blaster today?"

All three Zoloz denied the allegation.

"Where would I even put one?" Torri asked, posing to show off her tight, skimpy clothes that barely covered her toned body.

Officer Pratt gave her a quick once over with his eyes. "I see your point," he answered with a professional nod. "You even got room for an identichit in there?"

"Yeah," Torri replied quickly. She glanced at Cyllir, who rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Good, let me see it," Officer Pratt told her, holding out his hand. "I like to know everyone hanging around with the Zoloz."

Torri gave Cyllir an apologetic look, realizing why he was annoyed with her quick answer. Then she pulled her identichit out of the back pocket of her tight cut-offs, and handed it to him.

"Torri Antilles," Officer Pratt commented as he glanced at the identichit. "How long you been hanging around with these guys?" he asked, nodding his head towards the three swoop-bikers.

As he spoke, he slid her identichit into a small scanner on his belt. It would tell him if she had any warrants, previous arrests, or anything else law enforcement might need to know about her. Once he finished up here, he'd update the computer to make her a known associate of the Zoloz, and Cyllir in particular.

"Um, a couple of months or so," she replied vaguely, glancing at Cyllir for his approval. As she spoke, she pushed her hands into the front pocket of her cut-offs. Well, her fingers, as that's all she could fit in. Her wrists flexed out, displaying the Zoloz logo on her cuffs.

"So why haven't I seen you around?" he asked, glancing back and forth between her and the swoop-bikers. "The Zoloz usually like to show off their women, especially when they wear as little as you do."

Torri glanced back at Cyllir nervously. "I don't know," she answered with a shrug. "I guess I don't really leave the clubhouse much."

"I'll bet," Officer Pratt said in disbelief. "They make you wear the collar and cuffs with the club logo and all that?" he asked, waving his hand towards her neck.

"Oh, no," she assured him with a simple shake of her head. "I love wearing them," she explained, grinning and lifting her chin to show off her collar.

"Hhhmmm," Officer Pratt said yet again, pulling her identichit out of the scanner. "Have you used any illegal drugs today?" he suddenly asked her, staring hard into her eyes.

Torri swallowed nervously. She had done a little pleezer a while ago, but she wasn't about to admit it to a cop. She felt fine now anyways.

"No," she replied firmly, wishing he would let it go.

Officer Pratt stared at her another couple of heartbeats, then he glanced down at the red welts on the back of her upper thighs, peeking out below her cut-offs. "What about the whipping?" he asked, staring into her eyes again.

"That's just a little bedroom fun, Officer Pratt," Cyllir assured him. "She likes it."

"Yeah," Torri agreed with a genuine smile. "Those barely even hurt."

Officer Pratt wasn't quite convinced. "If anyone is abusing you, we can protect you," he told her.

Torri frowned in confusion a heartbeat. "Oh, nothing like that is going on," she informed him, her frown turning into a seductive smile. "I like getting whipped."

Officer Pratt raised his eyes in surprise a couple of seconds. He quickly recovered however. "Well, as long no one's being forced to do anything against their will," he commented as he held her identichit out towards her.

"Not me," Torri answered with a shrug, taking the identichit and sliding it into her back pocket.

"Make sure things don't go too far in the bedroom," Officer Pratt said, glancing towards Cyllir. "Too many marks, she won't be able to show so much skin around town."

"We'll be careful," Cyllir replied with an agreeable nod. "Hey, why'd you stop us anyway? We weren't speeding or anything."

"Oh, he looked a little unsteady on his bike," Officer Pratt commented, gesturing vaguely towards Dirc or Sid. "I just wanted to make sure everyone was safe to ride. You know, wasn't drunk or anything."

"We really appreciate that, but we're fine. No one's drunk," Cyllir informed him.

"Hhhmmm," Officer Pratt said again. Then he looked directly at Sid. "Aren't you still on parole for that robbery and assault?"

Dirc muttered a curse.

"So?" Sid barked.

"So since you're still on parole, then I don't need cause to search you," he explained. "Step over here and put your hands on my speeder."

"Whatever," Sid answered in mock apathy. He shrugged his shoulders, and began walking towards the police speeder.

Torri knew that if the cop found whatever it was Sid has in his pocket, then he'd go to jail. She had to do something.

"Officer," she began as she took a step towards him. "We're just out for a ride. Can't you give us a break this time? We promise we'll go right back to our clubhouse." As she spoke, she . . . wished him to let them go in her mind.

By this time Sid had his hands on the speeder, and his feet spread apart. Officer Pratt was standing just behind him, with one foot between his, and facing the rest of the Zoloz.

The police officer paused, and Torri locked eyes with him a few moments.

"Please?" she implored him.

Officer Pratt glanced at her a moment, then to Cyllir.

"I won't see the three of you out here at all for the rest of the day?" he asked.

"You got my word," Cyllir assured him with a nod.

Officer Pratt considered that a few seconds, then took a step back, while keeping his hand on Sid's vest. "And Torri will still be able to show all of that nice skin . . . if she wants to, that is?"

"Of course, Officer," Cyllir answered.

"Get out of here then," he told them, nodding his head back towards their clubhouse. "And I don't want to see any of the other Zoloz out here today riding together either."

"Okay," Cyllir agreed as he straddled his swoop-bike and began strapping his helmet back on.

Torri climbed on behind him, and strapped hers on as well. By the time Sid got onto his swoop-bike and got his on, Cyllir and Dirc had theirs started up. A couple of seconds later, all three swoop-bikes were turning to head back to the clubhouse.

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

"Great job, babe," Cyllir said, slapping her ass.

They had just arrived back at the clubhouse, and were climbing off the swoop-bikes.

"No problem," Torri replied cheerfully, stepping forward to wrap her arms around his waist. "I'll do anything for my Zoloz," she added, leaning in and rising to her tip-toes to give him a kiss.

"Yeah, thanks," Dirc agreed as he climbed off his swoop-bike. "You really kept Sid here out of some poodoo."

"What'd you have anyway?" Cyllir asked, breaking the kiss with Torri.

"Just some ryll," Sid answered with a shrug. "A few grams."

"Well, as a reward for talking that frakker out of searching you, I think we ought to let this sexy little slut here have a hit," Cyllir informed him, moving his hands to Torri's ribcage and lifting her up off the ground till her tits were head-high.

Torri let out a yelp of glee at his attention. She wasn't quite as thrilled about the glitteryll, though. The last few times she had done it, she just hadn't felt it like she used to.

"I'm cool, baby," she told Cyllir with a friendly grin.

"What?" he asked, setting her down quickly, practically dropping her.

Torri stumbled a bit in her fifteen-centimeter stiletto heeled boots as she landed. "Can I have some crude or pleezer instead?" she asked. "I don't want to oh-dee again and lose my memory," she explained meekly.

The three Zoloz exchanged a quick glance with each other. Then Cyllir stepped forward, and grabbed her neck with both hands.

"If we tell you to do some ryll, then you're gonna do some ryll, understand, bitch?" he told her malevolently, squeezing her neck above her collar. "I don't care if it's enough to fry every synapse in that empty head of yours; you'll do it, and like it."

"Okay, okay, baby," Torri answered pleadingly. "I'll do it, just let me go."

Instead of releasing her, Cyllir moved one hand to grab her hair. Then he pulled it down, while holding her neck still, forcing her head to tilt back.

Torri obediently opened her mouth, and Sid dropped a hit of glitteryll in. It looked to be a little bigger dose than she normally took, but there was nothing she could really do about it right now. She swallowed, then opened her mouth again to show that she had taken the hit.

With one hand still gripping her hair, Cyllir reached into her mouth, and moved her tongue to check under it. "Good girl," he told her, relaxing his grip. "Now why don't we take you to the bedroom, and you can pay us back for that ryll you just took."

"Sure thing, baby," Torri replied with a vacuous grin plastered on her face. She was already starting to feel the glitteryll hit her. She let out a little giggle as Cyllir picked her up and slung her over his shoulder.

A minute later, Torri happily allowed him to flop her onto the bed in one of the clubhouse's bedrooms. She did need a little help getting out of her cut-offs, but he was happy to lend a hand. Once she was naked except for her collar, cuffs, and boots, he shackled each of her wrists and ankles to one of the bedposts, spread-eagle. Then he climbed on top of her, and began fucking her.