Wars: Imperial Prostitute SX-51472
Author's notes: The following story takes place soon after the conclusion of Legacy of the Force. This is the 10th Star Wars story that I have written. Please leave me feedback, public or through email. (ahandcuffgirl at yahoo dot com)
And just so you know, Jaina Solo is now Imperial Prostitute SX-51472, or "Seventy-Two" for short.
Three minutes later, she was standing at parade rest in the entryway to the flight-deck. “Imperial ProCorps trooper SX-51472, reporting as ordered, Ma'am,” she barked out when Captain Garowyn glanced her way.
“You may enter,” Captain Garowyn said with an appreciative nod.
“Thank you Ma'am,” Seventy-Two replied as she stepped into the flight-deck. While the freighter's crew had kept her barefoot, she had missed the familiar sound of her heels clicking on the deck as she walked.
On Captain Garowyn's order, Seventy-Two took the pilot's seat. She found the course to Zeta garrison was already programmed in. Still, as a trained pilot, she did a quick double-check, to make sure the numbers for the hyperspace jump looked good. Then she pulled back the lever, and the stars blurred into lines. She couldn't help the little bit of nervousness that she always got going to a new duty assignment.
Once the ship had made the jump into hyperspace safely, Captain Garowyn took her to the hold, and made good use of the ProCorps trooper's tongue, as well as her pussy with a strap-on.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Several days later ...
“You are in excellent health, trooper,” the Doctor told her as he conducted her monthly exam.
“Thank you Sir,” Seventy-Two responded with a satisfied smile.
Seventy-two was positive he would fuck her after her exam. Sure, most of the other Imperial Doctors had, but she was sure this time.
The first thing the nurse had done was instruct Seventy-Two to strip naked, which she had done as best she could. Now she was only wearing her collar and chastity belt, neither of which she could remove. When the doctor came in, he took a few seconds to admire her nearly naked body before starting. His hands roamed quite a bit during the exam as well.
From her past monthly physical exams, Seventy-Two knew there was more to come.
The doctor had her stand with her legs spread apart, and he removed her chastity belt. The air of the exam room on her hairless crotch felt almost cool enough to make her shiver.
“Mount up,” the Doctor instructed her with a smirk as he set her chastity belt on another table.
Seventy-Two climbed up onto the gynecological exam table, putting her feet into the shiny cold durasteel stirrups. Her ass was left hanging over the edge of the table buy several centimeters. From her previous monthly exams, she knew that this was perfect for fucking her.
“Start strapping yourself in while I collect a few things,” the Doctor told her as he walked out of the room.
“Yes Sir,” Seventy-Two replied cheerfully, as she buckled the nerfhide straps over her ankles.
There was another strap that went just above each of her knees, keeping her lower legs tightly in the stirrups. Then she buckled the strap over her hips. The next part was a little tricky. She had to reach over and buckle the thick nerfhide wrist strap that was attached to the side of the table around her wrist. That made securing the strap over her shoulders and upper arms harder, but she managed.
From previous exams she knew that buckling the last strap around her free hand was impossible. So while she waited for the doctor to return, Seventy-Two tested the strength of her bonds.
“All done?” the doctor asked as he came back into the exam room.
“Not quite,” she replied cheerfully, waving her free hand at him.
“No problem,” the doctor said, chuckling as he wrapped the nerfhide strap around her wrist, securing both of her hands a few decimeters from her sides, safely out of the way.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Five eggs, Seventy-Two thought happily as the doctor sealed the last one in its container. Soon after she had accepted her posting in the Prostitution Corps, the Empire had started her on hormone therapy to increase her egg production. Of course, a ProCorps trooper couldn't be pregnant for nine months. So, every month they extracted her eggs, fertilized them and implanted them in the wombs of Imperial women. Seventy-Two wondered what an Imperial Knight was, but she still felt a swell of pride in the knowledge that she was serving the Empire by providing her eggs for the project.
“All done,” the Doctor said with a professional smile as he laid a hand on Seventy-Two's trapped thigh. “At least with the exam,” he then added with a leer, as his hand drifted down to her glistening hairless pussy.
Seventy-Two moaned the Doctor pushed his fat cock between her lips. This was what she was meant to do. Although pleasing her partner always made her happy, for some reason she preferred being restrained during sex now. She arched her back, straining against the straps as he fucked her.
Nearly ten minutes later, Seventy-Two felt him tense. She matched his orgasm with her own. For some reason, that seemed to happen quite often now, except when she was entertaining multiple partners.
“That was frakkin' gonzo, baby,” the doctor said as he exhaustedly lifted himself off Seventy-Two's bound form.
“You too, Doctor,” Seventy-Two replied, glad to have satisfied another Imperial.
As he stumbled off, most likely to wash up, Seventy-Two wondered how long he was going to leave her here like this. Not that she wouldn't have minded the nerfhide cuffs were very comfortable but Captain Garowyn was expecting her.
A couple of minutes later, the nurse came back into the exam room.
“Hey, can you let me up, please Ma'am?” Seventy-Two asked her meekly.
The nurse walked over to the exam table, a carefully neutral look in her eye. Then she reached out, and pinched Seventy-Two's nipple.
“Not until you pay me for my part in your exam,” she said as she began unfastening her white uniform pants.
Once the nurse had stripped off her boots, pants, and panties, she climbed up and straddled the restrained patient's head.
“And I'm gonna keep you here until your do a proper job of it,” she said, looking Seventy-Two in the eye intently.
“Yes Ma'am,” she replied sincerely, vowing to do the job right the first time. Her regular duty assignment was Captain Garowyn's secretary and personal assistant. If she were late for duty, it would give Captain Garowyn another reason to punish her.
Luckily for Seventy-Two, watching the doctor fuck her must have gotten the nurse revved up. About five minutes later, the nurse was moaning in orgasm, and squeezing Seventy-Two's head between her thighs.
After the nurse got herself dressed again, she was happy to release Seventy-Two from her restraints. She was even nice enough to help her put her ProCorps uniform back on for duty. Seventy-Two thanked her, and dashed off to the Captain's office for duty, barely on time.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Seventy-Two couldn't help but feel amused at the young crewer's enthusiasm as he closed the door of her quarters. Well, the quarters that Captain Garowyn had assigned her to entertain Zeta garrison. The crewer looked eighteen or nineteen, fresh out of Imperial boot camp.
He was also the trooper of the week, which is why someone as low ranking as himself could get such an extended time. Even on a station as small as Zeta garrison, Seventy-Two had to serve the lower ranking troopers as quickly as possible, and only every other week.
He probably emptied his entire savings account for these three hours, Seventy-Two thought. She wondered what he planned on doing with all that time. For most Imperials, even strapping teenage men such as crewman Tommson here, one hour was more than enough to satisfy their urges.
Most of her other three hour sessions were either for older officers or non-coms, who needed a little more time to hook up their power coupling, or for elaborate role play scenarios.
Since he hadn't requested any off the costumes Seventy-Two had available to her, she didn't think he had a role play in mind.
Currently Seventy-Two was wearing her gleaming durasteel ProCorps 'B' collar. Unlike the 'A' collar meant to be worn under her uniform, this one was half a centimeter thick and five wide, with a large leash ring hanging from the front. Her chastity belt, which was locked around her waist, also had a computer chip in it with her rank and ID. Seventy-Two could not remove either of those items herself.
Seventy-Two was also wearing her gleaming durasteel wristcuffs, with the chrono on her left wrist, and comlink on her right. The only other items she was wearing were a pair of sandals with thin nerfhide straps. The entire sole of each sandal was single piece of gleaming durasteel. The platform at the front was a couple of centimeters high, and the stiletto heels were fifteen centimeters tall. The ProCorps manual called this the 'Number Two' uniform. Seventy-Two smiled patiently as his eyes traveled the length of her body.
“So, you ready to get started, or do you have something else in mind?” she asked after a few moments.
For the first time, he tore his eyes off her body and looked her in the eye. “Sure thing, babe,” he said nonchalantly as he reached up to strip off his uniform top.
“Let me,” Seventy-Two suggested as she walked over to him and began helping him out of his crewman's uniform. “I want my trooper of the week to be nice and relaxed while he celebrates.”>
With most of three hours to go, Seventy-Two took her time, kissing or licking nearly every decimeter of skin that she uncovered. By the time she got to his snug-fitting white Imperial issue underwear, his cock was durasteel hard, straining against the cheap material. As she pulled the underwear down his legs, Seventy-Two was a bit disappointed in its size.
Since crewman Tommson was about a hundred eighty-three centimeters tall, and around a hundred kilograms of muscle, she was hoping he would have a commensurately sized dick to fuck her with. Instead his was about fifteen centimeters long, and maybe twelve around as it sprung out. Or as Seventy-Two thought of it, average.
Now that crewman Tommson was naked, Seventy-Two laid back onto her bed, giving him access to her chastity belt. Smiling with anticipation, he reached into his uniform pocket and pulled out his ID chit.
Since he had already paid the Empire for a three hour reservation of Imperial ProCorps trooper SX-51472, there was no need to pay again. He did need to verify his identity, however.
That task was accomplished by him running his ID chit over the scanner built into her chastity belt. Seventy-Two heard the familiar beep of acknowledgement, and felt the chastity belt pop open.
While not possessing a large tool, Crewman Tommson proved very able and energetic in fucking Seventy-Two. His first orgasm, which she matched with her own, was quickly followed by a second. He hadn't even stopped fucking her between them, either. His second, which she had also managed to match, was followed not to long after by his third.
Afterwards, as they laid together on her bed, Seventy-Two glanced at the chrono on her left wrist. They still had a little over two hours left before her chastity belt had to be back on. Even after three rounds, it didn't take Crewman Tommson long before he was ready for a fourth.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
“Good morning, Ma'am,” Seventy-Two said cheerfully as Captain Garowyn came in.
Seventy-Two couldn't help whistling along with the music from the transceivers in her ears as she watered the bluish plants in the reception area. She couldn't quite make out what was being flashed on the mini-holoscreens on her spectacles, though.
“Good morning,” Captain Garowyn replied absently, as she opened the door to her office proper.
Seventy-Two gave her commander a few minutes to settle in, then silently followed her into her office to water the plants there. After she finished that, and did a little dusting, it was time for the Captain's morning pussy licking.
Once Captain Garowyn was satisfied, Seventy-Two spent the rest of the day performing her secretarial duties. Well, except for after lunch, when she gave Captain Garowyn her afternoon foot massage. The transceivers and spectacles continued their conditioning throughout the day.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Seventy-Two tried to remember the last time she had worn traditional Jedi robes before tonight. Although what she was wearing now was more of a perverted parody of Jedi robes. More like Jedi lingerie, if there were such a thing.
To start with she was wearing a pair of tiny white silk g-string panties, with a matching baby doll that came barely past the panties. A black silk belt was tied around her waist. Hanging from the belt was a mock lightsaber, with a purple blade, just like the one she used to carry for real. Over that was a chocolate colored silk robe, which also barely came past her crotch.
On her feet were a pair of matte-black knee high synth-hide platform boots, with seventeen centimeter high stiletto heels.
Seventy-Two shrugged off the short brown robe and let it fall to the ground. Her nipples were clearly visible through the sheer silk baby doll. Then she unhooked her lightsaber and thumbed it on. It hummed to life as she stared over the blade at her opponent. For a split-second, she almost grinned at Captain Garowyn. Or Mistress Garowyn as she liked to be called during these role plays.
The reason her lust had almost gotten the best of her was that Mistress Garowyn just looked sooooo sexy in her evil Sith outfit.
To start with she was wearing a glossy black full-body snyth-hide suit, complete with gloves. The backs of the gloves were thicker, and covered with small spikes. The body suit had thicker, armor-like, panels covering her torso, crotch, biceps, forearms, thighs, and shins.
Barefoot, Captain Garowyn was several centimeters taller than Seventy-Two. Since the heels on her boots were a few centimeters shorter than Seventy-Two's, the two were nearly the same height. Mistress Garowyn's heels were also chunky, and a lot easier to fight in.
In spite of their similar heights, though, there was no mistaking who was the more imposing figure.
Mistress Garowyn was also wearing a matching half-mask that covered her head and the top half of her face, with large eye-holes of course. A thick black spiked collar was around her neck. On her left hip was a pair of stun-cuffs. She held her own red-bladed mock lightsaber in her right hand.
The two lightsabers were actually modified practice lightsabers. At least that's what Mistress Garowyn had told Seventy-Two when she first showed them to her a few days before. They were designed to sting, and would probably leave welts, but wouldn't cause any permanent damage.
Seventy-Two understood the advantages that Mistress Garowyn's armored body suit gave her. It didn't matter. The point of the role play was for Mistress Garowyn to defeat and capture her, then 'torture' her for information about a secret Rebel base.
“Toss your lightsaber away and surrender, my pretty little Jedi,” Mistress Garowyn suggested menacingly.
“I don't think so,” Seventy-Two replied warily as she began slowly circling her foe.
The black-clad figure stood confidently in place, only turning to face the circling Jedi. “Tell me the location of the Rebel base, and I might go easy on you,” she encouraged her.
The idea of her hiding the location of a secret Rebel base was so ridiculous Seventy-Two almost dropped out of character again. Instead, she yelled “Neevveerr!” dramatically and charged the evil Sith Mistress.
Captain Garowyn blocked the clumsy strike with ease while she spun to the side. As the scantily clad Jedi stumbled by, she reached out and slapped her ass, hard.
“OW!” Seventy-Two said as she spun around and rubbed her practically bare ass.
“Had enough?” Mistress Garowyn asked her smugly.
Seventy-Two let out a small laugh, then replied, “You'll have to spank me a lot harder than that, Mistress,” as she gripped her lightsaber with both hands in mock concentration. Then she realized the ridiculousness of her statement.
“Oh, I intend to, my dear,” Mistress Garowyn gloated in reply.
With a groan of annoyance, Seventy-Two charged her foe a second time, heels tapping on the floor.
This time the Jedi stopped at a comfortable striking distance and struck a series of quick blows at the evil Sith Mistress.
After deflecting the third blow, Mistress Garowyn spun around and hit her across the back of her bare thigh with her lightsaber.
Seventy-Two screamed as she staggered away, clutching her leg in pain. The blow had hurt, but not as much as she pretended. She half-squatted, protecting her stung thigh with one hand and feebly holding her lightsaber in a guard position with the other.
“Is that the best you can do, silly Jedi?” Mistress Garowyn taunted her.
With a groan of frustration, Seventy-Two launched herself at her nemesis once again.
This time Mistress Garowyn ducked the wild attack and swung her leg through Seventy-Two's ankles, sending her sprawling to the floor face down, and causing her to lose her lightsaber. Before she could react, Mistress Garowyn kicked the prone Jedi's lightsaber across the room. Then, as she dropped her knee into the middle of Seventy-Two's back, Mistress Garowyn shut down her own lightsaber and hung it on her right hip.
Seventy-Two lay prone in defeat. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that she could have easily beaten Mistress Garowyn, but just didn't want to. It wasn't just the role play either. It was right for her to be defeated by Captain Garowyn.
When Mistress Garowyn had told her about this role play scenario, she hadn't really mentioned anything past what would happen when she beat her, past her resisting as long as she could, so Seventy-Two wasn't really sure what was coming next.
Next, Mistress Garowyn retrieved the stun-cuffs from her left hip and grabbed Seventy-Two's right arm. As she snapped the cuff onto her wrist, Seventy-Two began to struggle, swinging at her with her free arm and flailing her legs wildly.
Mistress Garowyn responded by calmly twisting the stun-cuffs, and Seventy-Two's cuffed arm, up towards the middle of her back. At the same time she rotated around, so that her shin and body weight was on Seventy-Two's upper body. She let the helpless Jedi struggle vainly a few more seconds, then twisted her wrist a few centimeters higher.
“Your other arm,” she stated simply to the defeated Jedi.
Seventy-Two tensed a moment, the went limp and thrust her left wrist into the open stun-cuff, eager for the pain on her arm to be over. Mistress Garowyn let out a satisfied sigh of victory, then nonchalantly reached down and snapped the cuff shut around her wrist. She held the stun-cuffs tight for a few more seconds, then released them. Only then could Seventy-Two bring her cuffed hands down to her lower back, and get some relief from the pain.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Seventy-Two couldn't believe how much fun she had last night. After her humiliating defeat at the hands of her magnificent opponent, which was pretty fun in itself, Mistress Garowyn had pulled of the armored crotch piece of her bodysuit. Then she ate her Mistress to a fantastic orgasm. Seventy-Two could feel how much she had enjoyed it.
After that Mistress Garowyn replaced the crotch piece with a double ended strap-on. Seventy-Two spent the next few hours being thoroughly restrained and fucked. She could tell that Captain Garowyn had been as turned on by the role play as she was.
Somewhere during the extended sex session, Mistress Garowyn had replaced the stun-cuffs with regular binders, and locked Seventy-Two's ProCorps collar back around her neck.
Now Seventy-Two was back in her ProCorps duty uniform, at her desk in Captain Garowyn's office. A message flashed up on her spectacles, informing her that Captain Garowyn was summoning her to her office. Seventy-Two glanced at her chrono, and realized that it was time for the Captain's morning pussy licking. She double checked her uniform as she walked towards the Captain's office, humming along with the music from her earpieces.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Several weeks later ...
Seventy-Two had always like the fact that the Empire monitored and censored her communications with the outside galaxy. It showed just how much they cared about their citizens when they made the effort to keep the Rebels which included most of her family and former friends from influencing a single lowly ProCorps private.
Today, however, she had been summoned to the station's comm center, and informed that she had a holomessage from Jysella Horn. Just like always, the Empire had already viewed the message, and provided Seventy-Two with an appropriate response. Sometimes she didn't even see the holomessages, she would just read what the Empire told her to from a holoprompter.
While that saved her the time of actually watching the long, and often boring, holomessages, sometimes it was nice to hear from them. Smiling with anticipation, and curiosity, Seventy-Two reached out and hit the play button on the holoprojector.
Jedi Knight Jysella Horn's head appeared, twenty centimeters high.
“Hello Jaina,” she said with a wave and smile. “Oops, sorry. I meant hello, Private Solo. I just wanted to let you know that I'll be attending the Imperial Academy next week. I leave tomorrow morning. Mom and Dad don't really want me to go, but Queen Tenel Ka convinced me. She said it changed her whole outlook on life.”>
Jysella glanced away, then continued. “She is sending all of her advisors and admirals through as well. I still think it's strange that they are all women, though.” Jysella looked away again, suspiciously, then leaned forward and said, “Don't tell anyone, but I want to join the Imperial Navy like you, not just go through the training. Maybe I can get posted with you or Tahiri.”
She relaxed, and leaned back. “Hey, I forgot, what's your specialty again? You seem so happy all the time now, I want to do the same thing you are in the Imperial Navy. Anyways, I got to go. I have to finish up some stuff before I leave. Bye bye!”>
Following Jysella's holomessage was the typed response that the Empire had prepared for Seventy-Two. She skimmed through it, then checked to make sure her ProCorps uniform looked perfect. She couldn't embarrass the Empire by looking sloppy on the HoloNet. Then she tuned on the holorecorder, and the holoprompter.
The holoprompter was set up to display her response on a screen behind the holorecorder, so it would look like she was just speaking naturally, and not reading as she spoke. The Empire would even watch her performance before transmitting it, to make sure she looked natural and happy.
“Hello Jysella. I'm glad you're going through the Academy. I know you'll enjoy it, and I promise, it will change your life. For the better! I didn't know that Queen Tenel Ka, or Private Djo, I should say now, had gone to the Academy; thanks for letting me know. Joining the Imperial Navy is a fantastic idea for you, too.”
She paused to take a breath, conscious of the corset underneath her uniform. “I'm in the ProCorps, just ask for it when you get to the training academy. I'm sure you'll get in,” she said with a smile. “Thanks for the message, I know you'll love the Academy, and what it will do for you. You'll be a better, happier person afterward. Bye for now, Private Solo.” Practically the only time she even thought of her old name was when she was talking with her mother or someone on the holonet.
Seventy-Two waited for the censors to approve the message. If there was problem with it, they'd let her know, and she would work with them to correct it. She suspected that they sometimes had her redo a message just so she would have to give them blowjobs for making them do extra work. Not that she minded. This time though, the 'approved and transmitted' conformation popped up. Seventy-Two closed down the holomessage program, and prepared for her appointment with Lieutenant Von'Harris.
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