SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot 04

Prologue:
A Royal Buggering

Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously.

Separatist corpses littered the village. Though they were competent individual fighters, they didn't work well together and they expected folks to come at them straight on. Sulmad was not a fan of straight on (though he was of straight sex). Striking from hiding, then ambushing the team that tried to rescue their already deceased comrades, he'd left a trail of bodies in his wake. The surviving Separatists had been sent to the perimeter, sure that this was some sort of distraction from the main Republic attack, giving the smuggler free rein within the village.

Finding the hut was simple enough, as was figuring out how the necklace had been lost. The poor maid who'd been carrying it was dead, her body stripped and visibly abused. Alma hadn't mentioned a servant, but the twisted brand on her shoulder, shaped exactly like the necklace he'd been sent to find and obviously far older than the wounds that lined her corpse, made it difficult to come to any other conclusion. Though, he mused as he searched the hut for his prize, she might have been someone Alma sent before hiring him.

The necklace was in sight when something triggered his paranoia. He couldn't have said what it was, but, blaster in hand, he was facing the door before he even realized he'd drawn the damn thing. An alien stepped out of the shadows, hands high and away from its body. "Peace, peace, we're on the same side." It burbled, though only Sulmad's translator let him identify those sounds as having that meaning.

"Really? Cause since I got to this rock, I ain't had a side, just folks who're shooting at me and folks who ain't. Yet." Sulmad said, accent thick, playing the stupid pirate for all he was worth. People said things in front of the stupid and they bribed the criminal. Coin, in credits, or information was a high priority at the moment, with an alien of unknown loyalty and ability between him and the only exit.

The alien explained, slowly, that he was worked for the SIS (Republic Intelligence) and that Alma was an Imperial agent. The necklace she valued so highly was actually a specially constructed communications tool that let her talk to her Imperial handlers, so the alien wanted it.

Sulmad's annoyance at being fooled was carefully hidden behind a mask of patriotism and concern. "So she's not really a noble?" He asked, as if he was disappointed at losing out on a chance to serve his betters.

"She is." The alien admitted. "Recruited by Imperial Intelligence. Apparently her strong pro-Human views made her an excellent candidate."

"Anti-alien, you mean. I noticed them myself in passing." Sulmad corrected.

The alien shrugged, not bothering to point out that they weren't anti-alien to him.

"Wouldn't it be smarter to bug the thing? Then you could wrap up the whole network." Sulmad offered, his libido rather enjoying the notion of giving both a noble and a traitor the right buggering they so richly deserved.

"We don't have the equipment here—but there is a Separatist communication's node in the center of the village, they'd have the stuff we need." The alien suddenly said.

"I'll get it. I know what to look for." Sulmad said, holstering his blaster at last.

"Good."

"Oh. Two things. I expect to be well paid for this."

"Of course." The alien agreed.

"And if you stab me in the back, I'll shoot you in the face."

"Fair enough."

The trip to and from the communication's center was even more unpleasant. Though most of the guards were still on the perimeter their only link to the outside world was heavily defended. A borrowed uniform and a nasty attitude got him inside, where he stole the equipment, constructed a make-shift bomb and fled before its uncertain timer went off, lighting up the night sky.

With the Separatists busy, Sulmad and the alien had plenty of time to bug the necklace and seal it back up. After making a down payment, the alien vanished as quietly as he'd come, leaving Sulmad to curse the fact that the first Republic spy he'd met (as far as he knew) wasn't a smoking hot woman out to fuck secrets out of him using super secret spy sex techniques. On the other hand, Alma's ass awaited him back at the refugee camp.

A few precautions, a little blaster fire and much sneaking later, Sulmad arrived back at the camp. After taking a nap (and collecting his pay for blowing up the communication's center from the Republic) and a few precautions he headed down to the refugee camp to pay the pretty traitor a visit.

Alma followed him into her hut this time and closed the door carefully behind her, leaving the local who was trying to chat her up to her own devices. The brunette had shot Sulmad a dirty look that he returned. Though his version of dirty and hers were quite different.

"You have what you were sent for?" She asked, pretending that she hadn't forced herself to cum on her own fingers in front of them during the last business meeting and this one wasn't going to end with her ass being filled with his cock.

"Of course."

"And it is?" She prodded gently, a courtesy he didn't intend to extend to her.

"Elsewhere." The holocamera he held up revealed the necklace in a nondescript box that could have been anywhere.

"Why isn't it here? We had a deal." Ice filled her tone, in a way that might have made him think her an ice queen, if he hadn't watched her flame burn away all that ice.

"Because I think we both know that you weren't planning to hold up your end." Sulmad said.

"Wh—"

Sulmad shoved her backwards against the wall, hard. "You were going to have me get all hot and bothered and then cry rape, with the necklace already around your neck. The only thing I want to know was if that was always the plan, or if it came to you after I embarrassed you earlier? Or, to use your parlance, put you in your place."

"I don't know what you're—" Alma began, she licked lips which begged for a cock between them.

"Lie to me again and you get nothing from me." Sulmad said.

Her blue eyes swept over him. "All right. It was always the plan." Acid dripped from her voice.

"Because a peasant would never see it coming. And his freedom, well what does that matter? It's not like he's a person. We're done here, whore." Sulmad said, turning on his heel.

She caught his arm and after a complicated moment found herself bent double, with her arm bent at an unpleasant angle. "You won." She whispered.

"I always do. I've got the necklace and you've got nothing. Good day."

"No. I mean, you can fuck my ass if you want." She whispered even more quietly.

"And how do you propose to guarantee that you won't betray me afterwards?"

"I give you my word." She snapped.

"You already betrayed me once. Your word is worthless, whore."

"Turn on the camera." She suggested.

"What and provide the evidence against—"

"Turn it on and let me go." Alma commanded with a shake of her bright red head.

He shrugged, releasing her and framing her pale visage in the viewfinder.

"My name is Lady Alma and I am about to have myself fucked in the ass, in exchange for the necklace of my family." Blue eyes glanced at Sulmad and continued when he waved her onward. "I am acting as a whore, in this instance for a common mercenary." He waved her ever onward and her eyes began to narrow, but she continued. "An action that does not sit entirely unhappily in my loins as the down payment involved an extremely rare orgasm on my part." Sulmad mimed a movement and Alma pulled her top down, revealing her bra covered breasts. Under his stern gaze, she pulled down the bra awkwardly revealing her magnificent breasts. Sulmad laughed and sent the file off to himself, before putting the camera down on the desk and moving forward. She probably thought the camera was off. It wasn't.

Alma's face was a mask, whose only cracks were the hot red rage and humiliation that made her blush furiously. "Now, I believe I said that I wanted to see those funbags of yours wrapped around this cock, my lady." Sulmad said, taking a seat in the only chair and loosing his cock from the armored trousers he'd...acquired on the raid.

Alma started to pull off her dress, but a stern word from the smuggler stopped her. "No, my lady. Keep it on. I'll remove what I want from you." The sarcasm in her title was fire to her explosive pride, but all she did was kneel between his open legs and wrap her beautiful breasts around his cock.

Proud blue eyes looked up at him as she began to bounce on his cock, giving him the first titjob of her privileged life. A rough hand reached past those eyes to undo her sever hair style and pull it forward, so it fell between her breast, it's silken softness just whispering against the head of his cock when she was at the low point in her bouncing. Her own hands were busy supporting her breasts and mashing them together around his dick, forming an almost air tight seal. When Sulmad leaned back, she looked down at her breasts, surrounding the cock that would soon be in her ass and considered various ways of lubing it up, as she was no longer certain that was his intent. With her eyes off him, he repositioned the camera, making sure it caught every second of the noblewoman's self-degradation.

"That alien bitch couldn't do this, not with those tiny tits of hers." Alma said to herself.

"She had other attributes." Sulmad countered. "You ever felt a Cathar's fur, so soft, like a million kisses, all over my skin, my lady."

Alma bent, taking his cock all the way down her throat to the root in a single lunge and swirled her tongue around, coating every inch of his meat in saliva. "Maybe I'll have a coat made from it when I get home." She snapped when she'd pulled back.

Sulmad was hard enough and annoyed enough that he pulled her off his cock and bent her over the desk, right next to the camera which framed her pretty, if disheveled face with an 'accidental' nudge. "Now, my bad, bad lady, I'm sure your cunt is already dripping, after all this is so humiliating for a lady of your station. Do you want me to use some of that lube to get into your ass, or do you want to trust the spit?" Sulmad asked, holding her against the desk, his cock grinding against her fully dressed ass in a way that suggested she better answer pretty fast if she didn't want him to fuck her through her clothes.

"Yes."

"What, my lady?" Sulmad asked, the very model of a hard of hearing gentleman at a very loud ball.

"Yes, please."

"No, which of the choices did you want, my lady?" He clarified, running his hands down the side of her body, enjoying the brief swell of her breasts before coming to rest just above her ass and beginning to scrunch up her skirt.

She knew what he wanted and that he wasn't giving up until she said it. "Please use my wet pussy juice to lube up my ass." She asked.

"Since my lady asked so nicely." He flipped her skirt all the way up, careful not to obscure the camera's view and pulled aside, but not down, her panties. The dripping maw of her cunt begged for cock.

He answered that plea with a single deep thrust of his own. The sensation blinded her for a moment before she exclaimed that he was in the wrong hole.

"Oh, did you think I was going to use my fingers? After how you reacted during the test run, my lady, I didn't think that was a good idea. Wouldn't want you to cum this early in the proceedings. Now without begging properly." Sulmad said, catching her hands and pinning them against the desk. "Grab there and don't move your hands, my lady." His voice brooked no disobedience and she grabbed the edge of the desk, holding on for dear life as he pounded her cunt roughly.

The fact that she was almost fully dressed and yet everything the smuggler wanted from her was on display made her box ache. He used her like disparate parts that amused him. A noble mind to be toyed with, breasts to tease, a cunt to fuck and an ass to cum in. That fact, though it wasn't phrased in that way in her sex-addled mind, damn near made her cum right there.

Sulmad noticed and pulled out of her in a single smooth motion and guided the head of his cock against her ass. "Now, you're obviously no virgin, at least in your pussy and mouth, though that titfuck was a bit half assed. What about this ass you've been so kind as to sell to me, my lady. Has it ever had a nice sausage, literal or figurative stuffed up it, or am I taking another of your virginities?" He asked, the mixture of formal and crude making her twist against him in a delightful fashion.

"No penis has been in my derriere before." She answered obliquely.

"Oh-ho, my lady, you gave me half an answer, that's worth..." He shoved himself forward, sliding in with surprising (or perhaps not so surprising as the brief, if rough fucking had covered his dick in the warm, wet all natural lubricant, that the tiny, businessman portion of his mind was coming up with a jingle for) ease. She was a noblewoman. She did not scream. Her mouth opened, her throat worked, but the only sound that came out was a whimper. Under Sulmad's hands, the cheap plastic of the desk might have been in serious danger, in the manicured hand of Lady Alma, all that happened was she hurt her palm.

"Obviously you've had something up here before, my lady." He said, in a manner that was almost a compliment. Rough hands pulled her forward so he could get at her pussy from underneath, between her thighs and the desk and tickled her clit. Teeth snapped shut, now she was struggling not to moan. She was Lady Alma, she would not—

A swift jerk yanked her back, ramming the last four inches or so of cock into her guts like a sledgehammer. The muscles in her jaw jumped as the pressure behind them could crack teeth, but she didn't scream, or moan, or beg. Though whether she would have begged him to stop, or begged for more, not even she could have said with any honesty.

Sulmad let his face relax. There was nothing to hide here, no feelings to hide from a woman planning to betray him, no mercenary to hide behind the face of a hero, in a lot of ways, this was the most honest sex he'd had since the last time he'd visited a whore. It was hate sex. He hated her; she hated him and they were going to fuck each other into oblivion. His face revealed contempt, arousal, amusement and a deep satisfaction that is not unfamiliar to anyone whose had a chance to bugger the chosen representative of a group that has deeply offended him.

He was done playing with her mind, now it was time to fuck it out. Her ass was tight. She hadn't been lying about that at least. Though it might have had a servant's tongue or a delicate tool up there, nothing as large as his cock had been allowed entrance. One hand wrapped in her hair, the other playing with her clit, he fucked her as hard as he possibly could. The hand in her hair pulled, hard enough to arch her back and send another burst of signals along her confused and distracted nervous system, but not hard enough to make her let go of the desk.

The sound of flesh on flesh filled the hut. It was probably audible outside too. Sulmad grinned to himself as he thought of that poor brunette, wondering where she'd gone wrong that she was outside and he was balls deep in the blonde's butt.

The thought of inviting her in and letting her have a go at the noble whore made his balls twitch. His mind ran away with him, other notions coming to mind. Ryn had tamed that Rodian well enough that the bitch had apologized, getting down on her knees and sucking him off right there in the bar (no one could deep throat a cock quite like a Rodian), zipped him back up and covered his bar tab for the night. He wondered what the alien woman could do with a born slut with a bad attitude like Lady Alma. She kept her title, even in his mind, for the same reason she'd kept most of her clothes, the effect turned him on.

Indeed, the effect, the thoughts and, of course, the ass fucking, were making his balls twitch. And though Alma was right there with him, it was too early. She was ready to cum, but not ready to beg.

Sulmad's hands moved, releasing her and shoving her forward, so she sprawled on the desk. "Let go, my lady." He commanded.

"I can't. You stopped rubbing me." Lady Alma said, her voice hoarse with need that she did not otherwise express.

"Of the desk, my lady, if you would be so good." He clarified, as if they were meeting in an office, and he didn't have seven or eight inches of cock up her bum.

Her hands let go, slowly, as they'd grown attached to the plastic. "Look at me." He ordered.

She twisted so her flushed face was to him, carefully making no move to lose her grip on his cock. Like the rest of her, sweat beaded it. Her lips were parted slightly and though he longed to shove his cock straight from her ass to her mouth, an indignity that would surely startle the noblewoman by its mere existence, he instead wrapped both arms around her leg and lifted her in the same direction she'd twisted, spinning her over.

The sensation on his cock was not altogether different from that of her tongue swirling around it earlier. Merely infinitely warmer, tighter and nastier. All of which were good things in Sulmad's book. Alma had squeaked at the maneuver which brought her face to face with almost fully clothed peasant who was fucking her so savagely. "Get to work on that cunt, my lady." Sulmad commanded as he spread her legs, one on either side of him and let them fall.

She would have blushed brighter if she could, but her hands fell on her pussy with the grateful glee of a starving man who has suddenly stumbled over a feast. Now using her breasts as handholds, Sulmad resumed fucking her ass, setting up a steady rhythm that her body got used to as Lady Alma focused on controlling the stiff fingers that were bringing her so much pleasure.

Sulmad stopped moving. Lady Alma didn't. Her body was in the zone. She was almost there. A quiet command failed to stop those hands. A rough grip didn't. The beautiful aristocrat was buggering him with her ass as he pinned her hands to the desk. "Want my cock that badly, my lady? Keep going then." He said.

She was past hearing. Now she was fucking it harder, because it was the only sensation left, he'd stolen all the rest and she needed sensation more than life, more than breath, more than her necklace and finally, Sulmad would have sworn he saw the moment that she needed relief more than she needed her dignity.

A single hand pinned her hands above her head and the other pushed hard enough on her stomach to keep the slim woman from sodomizing herself further. She whined like an animal in distress. "Beg for it." He commanded. The absence of the 'my lady' hung in the air like the most vicious of slurs.

Her pride was already broken. She begged like the hungriest urchin of the street, even if her accent was still posh and her vocabulary could really use some work. The translator implant kept up with the flood of liquid syllables that was her native language as he seemed to have fucked any other language right out of her empty little blonde head. As had any knowledge of their deal. She begged for the chance to feel his seed in her womb, to carry his child, to have a little piece of him, her master with her always. Sulmad would have sworn up and down that her tongue would jump out of that head before it framed the word 'master.'

With the loss of pride, came the loss of honor. She tried everything she could think of to make herself cum, even as she begged. Twisting, writhing, kicking, pulling with her legs and eyes and tits (only the first literally) and begging, she was a true delight, if far from the prim and proper noblewoman he'd first met. Only the head of his cock was in her ass and despite her best and most creative efforts, she couldn't get it any further in. When her pleas and curses shifted out of her native and into her Basic he realized that he was starting to lose her.