Star Wars: Imperial Prostitute SX-51472
Chapter 3
Rating: NC-17

Bethany Handcuff

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.




Several months later, on the Star Destroyer Admiral Daala ...

Seventy-Two stood in the mirror and inspected her uniform as carefully as she could. She could feel her chastity belt and corset, invisible but definitely present. They same for her knee-high boots, locked on with hidden cuffs. The top edge of her collar was barely visible, if one looked closely, just as it should be. The sleeves of her jacket barely covered her silver comlink and chrono cuffs.

The extra attention to detail was because the Chief of State of the Galactic Alliance was making an official visit to her namesake ship. Seventy-Two was really looking forward to seeing her friend, Syal Antilles, who was accompanying Chief Daala, more, though. Once Seventy-Two looked her best, she left to assist Admiral Garowyn.

As a mere corporal, Seventy-Two didn't rate a place in Admiral Garowyn's greeting party. As the Admiral's personal assistant, however, she didn't have to stand in the several thousand strong formation that was assembled for the visiting Chief of State. Instead, Seventy-Two was standing quietly, well off to one side, observing the ceremony and watching to see if Admiral Garowyn needed her for anything.

Seventy-Two mostly watched the central of the three shuttles as they landed, assuming that was Chief Daala's, and hence her personal pilot, Syal Antilles, would be flying it. The three shuttles landed virtually simultaneously in a row.

Then the three shuttles' ramps lowered and the Imperial formation snapped to attention. First some ceremonial guards came out of the outer shuttles and lined up facing the Imperials. It was probably a bias, but Seventy-Two though that the Imperial uniforms looked much better than the Rebels'. Then she reminded herself to call them the Galactic Alliance, and not Rebels, while they were here.

Some more guards came out of the center shuttle, and lined up facing each other. Then two full-armored Mandalorians came out, followed by Chief Daala and a half-dozen advisors. Last off the shuttle was another armored Mandalorian. Seventy-Two recognized him by his armor as Boba Fett.

Chief of State Daala and Admiral Garowyn spent a few minutes reviewing and complimenting both sets of troops. The they and their entourages left the hanger together, to tour the ship itself. Seventy-Two checked her chrono, and found she had nearly an hour before the tour would end in the observation gallery, where she was expected to help serve refreshments.

Nearly ten minutes later, Seventy-Two and Syal were leaving the hanger together. Even though she was eight years older than Syal, they had always been friends, and not just because their families were close.

Syal's first question was about the spectacles and earpieces.

“The earpieces mostly play music all day, but they are also linked to my comlink so I can respond to orders quicker. And the spectacles have mini-holoscreens on the insides of the lenses. Both help me relax, and have helped me maintain the awareness and positive attitude I discovered in the Imperial Academy,” she explained.

That didn't seem to completely satisfy Syal, but she didn't ask any more questions about the subject right then.

“So how do you like being the Galactic Alliance Chief of State's pilot?” Seventy-Two asked her as they walked towards her quarters.

Syal paused before replying. “It's okay, but sometimes I miss my Eta-5, or even an X-wing. Simulators just aren't the same,” she said longingly.

Seventy-Two nodded politely. She couldn't even think of climbing into a snubfighter cockpit again.

“I know you're not flying fighters these days yourself, but are you getting any simulator time in?” Syal asked.

“Well, actually I'm Admiral Garowyn's personal assistant, which includes piloting her ship and shuttles. I stay pretty busy with my ProCorps duties as well,” Seventy-Two replied.

The shock on Syal's face was obvious. “Personal assistant? What does that mean? And exactly do you do in the ProCorps? I couldn't find out anything about it besides the Empire's official statement that it was responsible for the well-being and morale of the Imperial Navy and Army, whatever that means. Jysella's joining it, and even she won't tell me more.”

Seventy-Two knew she had to be careful about how she answered. Even though the Empire was part of the Galactic Alliance, that didn't mean there weren't some things the Rebels didn't need to know.

“Well, personal assistant basically means I do whatever she needs me to: scheduling her appointments, typing, getting her caf, running errands for her, whatever.”

“Wait a minute,” Syal interrupted her. “You turned down promotion to General in the starfighter corps, and left the Jedi order to be some Imperial Admiral's flunky?!”

Seventy-Two supposed that was one way to look at it. But not hers. “I left some things, yes, but the happiness and contentment I've gotten in return has more than made up for it,” she said calmly and sincerely.

Syal was obviously unconvinced. “Well, okay then. Can you tell me about the ProCorps, though?”>

Now Seventy-Two had to be really careful. A lot of people, Syal included, definitely wouldn't understand. “Well, I meet with Imperial personal that are feeling ... down, and try to cheer them up.”>

“And you do that between getting cups of caf for the Admiral,” Syal said sarcastically.

“No, my primary duties are morale-building, being Admiral Garowyn's personal assistant is extra,” Seventy-Two replied, ignoring the sarcasm.

“Well, alright then,” Syal said. “By the way, aren't those heels a bit high?” she added, changing the subject.

Seventy-Two glanced down at her black eighteen-centimeter-heeled boots. “The heels are part of a ProCorps trooper's uniform, and I like wearing them anyway. I wear heels pretty much all the time now; except when I'm in the gym,” Seventy- Two replied.

“If that what makes you happy then, okay. I must admit though, you do look chic in your uniform,” Syal added.

“Thanks,” Seventy-Two replied with a smile. She took a moment to preen, raising her hands up to the level of her shoulders, which caused the sleeve of her jacket to slide down a little, and show a flash of her chrono cuff.

That resulted in Seventy-Two having to show Syal both her chrono and comlink cuffs.

“Wow, can I try them on?” Syal asked with obvious enthusiasm.

Seventy-Two didn't think her friend was ready to learn that her ProCorps uniform was locked onto her, and only Admiral Garowyn or the ship's computer could release her.

“Well, it's part of my uniform, so I can't really take it off right now, but I'll see what I can do for you later, okay?” Seventy-Two offered as the two arrived at her quarters. As she spoke, she started to push her crotch near the scanner next to her door to open it. Then she remember that they had reprogrammed her comlink so it would open the door while Syal was visiting. So she leaned back and waved her right wrist over the sensor instead.

“You'd better,” Syal told her with a friendly smile, as the door closed behind them.

In the Imperial Navy, most corporals serving on a Star Destroyer slept eight to a cabin. The only perk they had was their own refresher, instead of sharing a communal one with hundreds of other troopers on their deck. In contrast, Seventy-Two had nearly as much space all to herself, as well as her own 'fresher. The reason she had so much space to herself was for her to perform her ProCorps duties. Except when higher ranking Officers wanted her to come to their quarters, of course.

The over-sized bed dominated the room. A restraining ring was discreetly located at each corner, two to each side, and one at the middle of the head and foot of the bed. There were also several more restraining rings around the room. For more elaborate bondage scenarios, there was a special room that all the ship's ProCorps troops could use.

On the wall above the bed was the circular Imperial Emblem, one meter in diameter. Just below that was her serial number in much smaller letters. Normally, Seventy-Two felt a swell of pride in herself every time she saw the beautiful Imperial Emblem. Since yesterday, though, it looked all wrong. When Admiral Garowyn decided that Syal would be staying in her quarters, Seventy-Two's official title — Imperial Prostitute — had been replaced with the words Imperial Trooper before her serial number.

Opposite the bed was a hundred and ten centimeter holomonitor on the wall. It was usually synced in with her spectacles and earpieces. Sometimes though, her clients wanted to watch something else before, during, or after fucking her, usually holoporn.

“That's very subtle,” Syal said sarcastically as she gestured towards the symbol above the bed.

Seventy-Two wondered what Syal would think if she showed her the matching tattoo above her pussy. “The 'fresher's in there,” she said, pointing to the appropriate door, and politely ignoring the comment. “And that's the holomonitor.” She purposely didn't mention the door to her closet, as it had quite a few things in it that she didn't want Syal to see. At least not yet.

Neither did she mention that the room was monitored at all times, for her own safety. Well, that, and training other ProCorps troopers.

“Kind of bare,” Syal said as she sat on the two-person pouf couch.

It was. Seventy-Two only came here to sleep, entertain clients, and use the 'fresher to clean up afterwards. The rest of the time she was at Admiral Garowyn's side. Or feet. Or between her legs.

“I know. I don't really spend a lot of time in here,” she explained to Syal.

“Well, at least you've got a big holomonitor. And a big bed. I bet you have a lot of fun there,” Syal said slyly.

How does she know — ? Seventy-Two wondered in astonishment. Then she realized that Syal was talking about regular boyfriend fun. Not have-fucked-several-hundred-Officers fun, which was fun indeed, even if Syal, who was still a Rebel, wouldn't understand. “A little,” she replied with a soft smile and a wink.

A few minutes later, the ship's computer alerted Seventy-Two that it was time to go make sure everything was ready for the reception. She made sure Syal would be okay by herself, and left for the Observation Gallery.

Seventy-Two arrived and began double checking that everything was ready. Admiral Garowyn had told her that it would be a very small gathering, and only wanted her to serve drinks and finger-food.

Nearly fifteen minutes after the reception's scheduled start, Admiral Garowyn arrived with Chief of State Daala. Seventy-Two thought it was strange that only they and Boba Fett were there. Still, that wasn't anything she should concern herself with.

Admiral Garowyn presented Seventy-Two to her guests. “And this is my personal assistant. You might have known her as Jaina Solo, but now she is Imperial Trooper SX-51472. However, you can call her Seventy-Two for short.”>

Seventy-Two blushed slightly as she stood at parade rest, silently listening to her Admiral introduce her.

Chief Daala took moment to stroll around her, getting a good look at her backside. “You seem to have taken to your Imperial training, Seventy-Two?” she asked as she completed the circle.

“Yes, Chief Daala,” Seventy-Two replied dutifully.

“She has more than taken to the training, Chief Daala,” Admiral Garowyn said. “She has enlisted in the ProCorps, and is a great little personal assistant for me,” she beamed.

Seventy-Two blushed at Admiral Garowyn's praise.

“Ah, the Prostitution Corps,” Chief Daala said with admiration. “An excellent place for someone such as yourself,” she added with a hint of malevolence.

“Would you care to see the rest of her uniform?” Admiral Garowyn offered.

Seventy-Two was surprised by the offer, and the fact that Chief Daala knew what the ProCorps really was. As for the offer, it wasn't that she was embarrassed, it was that Chief Daala wasn't an Imperial; at least not currently. As for Chief Daala's apparent knowledge of her duties to the Empire, Seventy-Two just hoped it wouldn't cause problems for the Empire. A lot of Rebels, her parents among them, wouldn't understand.

“Of course, Admiral,” Chief Daala accepted. “If Mister Fett, doesn't mind, that is?”

Seventy-Two had forgotten about the armored Mandalorian in the room. A former trainer of hers.

“Not at all,” he said through his helmet speakers.

Admiral Garowyn reach into her pocket, and keyed the remote. Seventy-Two heard the 'click' and felt her belt unlock.

“Strip,” Admiral Garowyn ordered her.

“Yes Ma'am,” Seventy-Two replied cheerfully as she pulled off her belt.

Thanks to Seventy-Two's ProCorps training, whenever she undressed in front of others, which was often, she did so in order to maximize their arousal. Even when she was alone, she assumed that she was being monitored, and endeavored to put on a little strip-tease for the security troopers watching her. Imperial Prostitute SX-51472, formerly known as Jaina Solo, smiled seductively at Chief Daala as she stripped for her audiences' pleasure.

“Leave the cap on,” Admiral Garowyn instructed her as she reached for her headgear. “You are still on duty,” she explained.

Seventy-Two laid her belt neatly on the back of an unused chair. Next she stripped off her uniform jacket, revealing her gleaming durasteel corset and collar. While the bottom of the corset disappeared underneath her jodhpurs, the top formed a sort of rounded shelf for her breasts, supporting them while leaving her nipples easily visible; and vulnerable.

The collar was a dull gray durasteel, to match her uniform jacket. The heavier gorget sections hugged the contour of her neck and shoulders down to about eight centimeters below the bottom of her neck. The part that went around her neck was about four centimeters tall.

Seventy-Two could feel Chief Daala's amusement, and arousal as she laid her jacket across the back of the chair over her belt. She couldn't feel anything from Fett, but she hadn't got much of a feel for him on Mandalore, either.

“The boots and pants,” Admiral Garowyn instructed her.

Seventy-Two felt the hidden shackles at her ankles and below her knees unlock as Admiral Garowyn activated the remote again. As usual, she was starting to get aroused as she took off her uniform. The presence of Chief Daala and Fett only seemed to make it worse.

Seventy-Two pulled off the knee boots, then the tight gray jodhpurs. She laid the jodhpurs down over her jacket. Then she grabbed her boots and looked up at Admiral Garowyn, expecting to be told to put the boots back on. Admiral Garowyn gave her a single nod, and she pulled the boots back up her legs.

“The boots have hidden cuffs at her ankles and just below her knees that lock automatically,” Admiral Garowyn explained to her guests as the shackles audibly snapped shut around Seventy-Two's lower legs. “The chastity belt, corset, collar, chrono and comlink cuffs also lock automatically, and can only be opened by myself or the ship's computer,” she said as Seventy-Two stood back up. “Oh, and the uniform belt too,” she added.

“Very nice,” Chief Daala said appreciatively as she admired Seventy-Two's toned thighs. Then she noticed the ink partially hidden by the former Jedi's chastity belt. “Is that the Imperial Emblem tattooed on her?” Chief Daala asked as she looked at the parts of the tattoo not covered by the chastity belt.

“It is,” Admiral Garowyn confirmed, both completely ignoring the half-naked Seventy-Two. “And that's her Imperial title and serial number below it,” she added with satisfaction.

“Very Impressive!” Chief Daala replied as she leaned forward to get a better look at the tattoo peeking out from either side of the chastity belt's crotch-strap.

“Show Chief Daala your other tattoo,” Admiral Garowyn suggested coyly.

Chief Daala stood back upright. “She has another tattoo?” she asked, as Seventy-Two turned away from her. Then Chief Daala looked back at Seventy-Two and let out a long whistle. “Now THAT'S dedication!” she exclaimed, when she read the words Imperial Property tattooed across the ass of the daughter of two of the Empire's most famous enemies.

After several seconds, Chief Daala asked Admiral Garowyn another question. “I've been out of the loop awhile. Do all the ProCorps troopers have these tats now?”>

“I'm not sure, Chief Daala. All the ones on board the Daal— this ship — do,” she replied without repeating the word Daala.

“Excellent. I'll have to congratulate Moff Fel for such a wonderful idea for the ProCorps,” Chief Daala responded as she circled around Seventy-Two. Then she reached out to touch her. “May I?” she asked Admiral Garowyn politely.

“By all means,” Admiral Garowyn replied with a nod.

Seventy-Two obediently stood still as Chief Daala ran her hand across her midsection, over her durasteel corset. The she felt Chief Daala reach up and lightly pinch her nipple.

“Do you enjoy your role in the Empire, my dear?” she asked as she ran her hand around the waist of Seventy-Two's chastity belt.

“Very much, Ma'am,” Seventy-Two replied quickly and cheerfully.

“And do your parents know just how their little girl is serving the Empire?” she asked as she ran her fingers down the front of her chastity belt, pressing it against her wet pussy.

“No Ma'am,” Seventy-Two replied, with a hint of fear in her voice from the question. She glanced at Admiral Garowyn, pleading for assistance.

“It's alright, Seventy-Two,” Admiral Garowyn said soothingly. “I'm sure Chief Daala is just curious, and would never reveal an Imperial trooper's confidential duties to unauthorized personnel, even their families.”

Chief Daala chuckled as she took Seventy-Two's wrist in her hand and examined her comlink cuff. “Oh, of course my dear. Whatever you say to me won't leave this room,” she assured her.

“Yes Ma'am. Thank you Ma'am,” Seventy-Two said with relief.

Chief Daala was clearly impressed with Seventy-Two's obedience and enthusiasm.

“Moff Fel has been telling me to send Syal to the Academy, but I didn't want to be without her, or upset her parents too much,” Daala commented after awhile. “If they can turn a Jedi Knight into this, though ...” she added thoughtfully.

“Syal, Wedge Antilles daughter?” Admiral Garowyn asked when she mentioned the name.

“Yes, why do you ask?” Chief Daala replied.

“I arranged for her to stay in Seventy-Two's quarters while you are visiting. I think after watching her holoscreen for awhile young Antilles will be more inclined towards the Imperial Academy,” Admiral Garowyn said with satisfaction.

“What?” Chief Daala asked, momentarily puzzled. Then she obviously realized what Admiral Garowyn meant. “Ah, I see,” she answered with her own satisfaction.

Seventy-Two knew that ProCorps troopers' holoscreens, not to mention their earpieces and spectacles, helped remove unhealthy inhibitions and put them in touch with their suppressed inner desires. She thought they would only help trained ProCorps troopers, but she wanted Syal to go to the Academy as well, so she just brushed the thought aside and pushed her chest a little farther out like she had been trained.

“Would you like her to provide some brief entertainment?” Admiral Garowyn asked Chief Daala.

“By all means,” Chief Daala replied with a raised eyebrow.

Before Seventy-Two could figure out exactly what she was expected to do, she felt, and heard, the distinct click of her chastity belt unlocking.

“Imperial Prostitute Es-Ex-Five-One-Four-Seven-Two, masturbate for us,” Admiral Garowyn instructed her.

“Yes Ma'am,” Seventy-Two replied cheerfully as she pulled her chastity belt apart and pushed it down her legs. She stepped out of the chastity belt and laid it aside. Then, Seventy-Two spread her feet apart and obediently used her fingers to masturbate herself for Admiral Garowyn and her guests.

“Very submissive, I see,” Chief Daala said. “And completely hairless!” She smiled as she watched Seventy-Two's well-trained fingers thrust in and out of her pussy. “Is that standard as well?”

“According to her file, the submissiveness was natural, but she was forced to repress it while she suffered under the twisted corruption of the Jedi and the New Republic,” Admiral Garowyn explained. She purposely didn't mention the Galactic Alliance, since she was speaking to its current Chief of State. “Her ProCorps training simply brought out and enhanced it.”

Meanwhile Seventy-Two was biting her lip in concentration as she continued to masturbate in front of them. She didn't want to embarrass Admiral Garowyn in front of such an important guest. It wasn't everyday she got to masturbate in front of a Chief of State, especially an Imperial hero such as Chief Daala! Besides, Admiral Garowyn was only telling the truth about her.

“I meant her lack of pubic hair,” Chief Daala said with an amused smile.

“Oh,” Admiral Garowyn replied, embarrassed at the misunderstanding. “Well actually, she came to the Empire that way. According to her medical records, she stopped growing hair below her neck around the time of the First Battle of Duro, during the Yuuzhan Vong War. The records didn't say why, but after some ... counseling, she admitted that she thinks it is the result of her going through a decontamination procedure just before the battle,” Admiral Garowyn explained.

“How interesting,” Chief Daala replied as she watched the former Jedi Knight shove three fingers into her soaking pussy while pinching her clit with her other hand.

“After further counseling she told us what she recalled of the decontamination procedure. Apparently it was very ... invasive, and humiliating for the young girl,” Admiral Garowyn added. “She finally revealed that she enjoyed it quite a bit.”

“Really,” Chief Daala said. Then, after a few minutes thought, asked, “Could you forward me the details when you get the chance?”

Admiral Garowyn paused a moment. “I'll have to get clearance from higher-up, but I don't think it will be a problem, Chief Daala,” she answered.

“Excellent,” she replied, still watching the former Jedi Knight masturbate in front of her. “She won't make a mess on the floor, will she?” Chief Daala asked, concerned.

Seventy-Two grunted in concentration. She wanted to moan, but didn't want to interrupt Admiral Garowyn and Chief Daala's conversation. She stroked her fingers in and out faster, she was so close.

Admiral Garowyn smiled. “Very rarely. And when she does, she gets punished, which can be very entertaining itself.” Then she thought a moment. “But allowing my subordinates to make a mess while a visiting dignitary is present would be rude.” She glanced back at Seventy-Two. “Stop,” she said, changing the tone of her voice into an order.

Instantly, and on the verge of orgasm, Seventy-Two pulled her fingers out and dropped her hands to her sides. Sometimes, Admiral Garowyn would let her finish if she stood there silently.

Not this time though.

“Put your chastity belt back on, wash your hands, and bring us some drinks,” Admiral Garowyn ordered her dismissively.

“Yes Ma'am, thank you Ma'am,” Seventy-Two responded obediently as she licked her juices off her fingers. She did that not so much because she wanted to, but because she had been trained not to get her pussy juice on the chastity belt anymore than she had too. Then she picked up her chastity belt, slid it up her legs, took a deep breath, and closed the ends together, locking it into place.

Seventy-Two washed her hands in the sink behind the small bar and retrieved the drinks and snacks from the conservator. Admiral Garowyn and Chief Daala sat down at the large table, and Fett pulled a chair into a nearby corner. Still only wearing her uniform cap, collar, corset, chastity belt, boots, chrono and comlink cuffs, Seventy-Two served the two ladies food and drinks while they, and Fett a little, talked.

Seventy-Two stayed busy by keeping their drinks refreshed, and snacks with in easy reach. After nearly an hour and a half of relaxing and chatting, Admiral Garowyn instructed Seventy-Two to get dressed again.


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