Star Wars: Jedi Adventures
Rating: R / Slash (ff)
Author's notes: This is the third story I have written about the Jedi. Although this is a stand alone story, please read Star Wars: Jedi Tahiri in Bondage and Star Wars Jedi Tahiri & Alema Rar. Also, if you like this story, please leave me feedback, public or through email. (ahandcuffgirl at yahoo dot com)
Without restraints, Alema Rar never slept well. The collar helped, but the Force nap wasn't as restful as she had hoped. She spent her time lying still on her mat, so her fellow slaves, and the guards monitoring the holocams, would think she was asleep. Long before any of her companions were awake, or at least that she knew of, Alema Rar felt the ship exit hyperspace. This caused a few of the slaves to stir: experienced spacers, Alema Rar guessed.
A few minutes later the door opened and half-a-dozen slavers stomped in, waking everyone up. The woman that had searched her the day before was among them.
“Time to go, little darlings!” one of the slavers, a Rodian, yelled.
Alema Rar rose silently. A handful of the slaves seemed frightened, but most were resigned to being ordered about so. One of the slavers was carrying a bag, which he set down on one of the bunks with a thud.
One by one the slavers put binders on the slaves' wrists, in front. Then they pulled a chain from the bag and begin assembling the women in a coffle, with each of the slaves' collars locked to the chain just less than a meter apart. Alema Rar was the fourth slave in the line. The line of slaves shuffled out into the corridor. The girl behind Alema Rar kept bumping into her backside. As the shuffled off to some unknown destination, the Jedi kept waiting for the ship to enter atmosphere.
Instead she felt a slight jarring as Darb's freighter docked with another ship. Since the current whereabouts of Schliebak were unknown, Alema Rar supposed that he could be on board a ship. It didn't really matter though, as long as she got to him sooner or later.
The slaves and their escorts went to an airlock, where they transferred to the other ship. Alema Rar reached out with the Force, and after a few long seconds, located the familiar vile presence of Schliebak. At least she was in the right place.
On the other side of the airlocks, the group was met by five more beings: three male humans, a Trandoshan, and a Whiphid. Darb's slavers greeted their counterparts as the chained women exited the airlock. Alema Rar noticed Schliebak's people scanning the slaves, and one of the humans doing a covert head count. One of the humans she pegged as the leader of the group.
Some classes of vessels had airlocks and corridors that were distinct enough to tell what type of ship you were on. Unfortunately this ship was not one of them. The corridors were well-lit, and seemed to be in good condition. The Jedi guessed it was a larger freighter, perhaps with a crew of around five hundred or so. She didn't plan on fighting the entire crew, just enough to kill Schliebak. Still, Alema Rar would need to know the freighter's layout when it came time to steal a ship to escape.
The group went a few meters from the airlock and through a door. Alema Rar recognized it as another processing room. There were painted footprints on the deck about a meter apart. A chain was hanging down from the ceiling about two meters over each set of prints. One of Schliebak's slavers guided the head of the coffle to the first set of footprints, and each of the girls stood on a set of prints.
The chains connecting the slaves' collars were nearly the exact distance between the footprints, and there were three more rows of prints unused. Probably a hundred of them, Alema Rar guessed.
Two more slavers, both humans were already in the processing room. Quickly and efficiently, the thirteen slavers began lifting the girls' wrists high and attaching the ends of the chains to their binders with snap hooks. By chance, Alema Rar was one of the last slaves to be secured. When a human got to her, she was holding her cuffed hands over her head waiting for him. He glanced into her passive eyes, and then snapped the chain onto her binders.
The chained Twi'lek heard the faint humming of a motor and saw the chains being pulled up so each slaves' arms were pulled tight overhead. After a moment, Alema Rar's arms were pulled tight as well.
Four of Darb's people left the room while the remaining two, the Rodian and the human woman that had searched her before, sat against the wall in a couple of comfortable looking chairs. Schliebak's slavers quickly got to work searching each of the slaves, including underneath their chastity belts as much as they could. Then they ran several sets of scanners over each of the slaves, while the leader of Schliebak's people compared notes with the woman that had searched Alema Rar on Darb's ship.
It was no problem for a Jedi to overhear their conversation. When one of the scanners found the same anomaly on her chastity belt as before, Alema Rar didn't want to attract too much attention to herself. She let the Force flow through her and exerted a little mental pressure on the guard's mind, to go with the woman's explanation that the belter had used a lighter metal on the cunt rod in the Twi'lek's pussy.
“Fine,” the man said dismissively, and instructed the scanner to move on to the next slave.
Alema Rar allowed the barest trace of a smile to her lips, and pulled on her binders, just to feel the sensation of them biting into her wrists. She was a little surprised when she felt one of the humans putting a headdress around her lekku, the roughly arm-sized, tapering appendages that came out of the back of a Twi'lek's head.
A glance down the line of slaves revealed that other guards were doing the same to her fellow Twi'leks. Most headdresses were just a few straps going around a Twi'lek's head and lekku. They were meant to make it harder for Twi'leks to communicate with each other by gesturing with their lekku.
This headdress, however, had the straps plus two thick sleeves that the guard pulled over each of her lekku. Alema Rar winced in pain as she felt the sleeves tighten on her sensitive lekku. She heard the distinctive 'click' of locks as the guard reached under her chin and up to the top of each lek. The sleeves felt like a synthetic nerfhide, and she could feel that last few centimeters of her lekku sticking out of the bottom. She knew it would be impossible to gesture with the sleeves locked on.
Once the scans were complete, a couple of the slavers started releasing their captives from the overhead chains. Two more followed them, and released the binders, only to move the slaves' hands behind their backs and lock the binders back on. Without her sensitive lekku, Alema Rar felt nearly blind. Still, she knew that it was even worse for the non-Jedi Twi'leks.
When the slavers starting putting the thick black hoods over their heads, one of the slaves tried to pull away, which caused the whole coffle to move. Alema Rar heard a faint pop and one of the girls towards the other end saying, “Sithspit,” right before a shock hit the entire group from their collars.
It wasn't an especially painful shock, but it did knock most of the girls to the deck, which pulled the rest down with them.
Several of the slavers laughed. “Oh, did we forget to mention that all of your slave collars are on the same frequency?” one of them said loudly as the girls started to quiet down. “If one of you does something to get punished, like try and resist getting a hood put on their pretty little heads, then all of you get punished, understand?”
A chorus of “Yes Sir,” answered him from some of the slaves, while the others, including Alema Rar, decided that he really didn't want an answer.
It was a classic trick. Create animosity amongst the slaves by punishing all of them, or the wrong ones, when an infraction occurred. Alema Rar sensed ill feelings from several of the slaves towards the girl that had tried to pull away from the slaver. Probably claustrophobic, she thought with compassion as she joined the others in glaring at her.
It took several minutes to get the slaves back on their feet, and get the hoods on all of their heads. While a thick hood worked great at making the other slaves clueless as to the layout of the ship, and where they were within it, it was almost useless for a Jedi. The only mild distraction for Alema Rar came from the claustrophobic girl, a young human, who was in sheer terror from the hood on her head.
The slavers led the blinded and chained girls out of the processing room and to the right. After that it was several more quick turns and into a cargo hold, where they march the slaves back and forth amongst the cargo containers. Then they took them back into the corridor and back the way they had come. Alema Rar wasn't a hundred percent certain of the route they had taken, but she was sure that they were back near the processing facility and airlock when they boarded the turbolift. It felt like they went up three or four decks before they stopped, then it was more quick twists and turns.
Finally they entered another large space and stopped. Alema Rar felt mostly mild relief from her fellow slaves as their hoods were removed. However, she felt intense relief from the claustrophobic girl. Alema Rar glanced down the line at her.
The girl was well built, probably a hundred and eighty centimeters and about sixty kilograms. Short brown hair. She couldn't tell what color her eyes were from here. The number Fifty-Two was displayed prominently on the side of her collar. Not bad looking at all, Alema Rar thought.
“All of you are now the property of the Great Schliebak the Hutt,” the human leader said. “You may call me, and everyone else who works for the Great Schliebak, Master,” he told them as the slavers began unchaining them from each other. “You will be evaluated for your skills and more importantly, your value to the Great Schliebak. Some of you he may decide to keep, but most of you will be sold.”
He let the words sink in as Alema Rar felt the Whiphid unlock the chains from her collar. “First of all, if any of you little bitches are dancers, step forward.”
Alema Rar immediately took a step forward. While she could perform many tasks, a dancer was guaranteed to perform at least once for the Hutt himself before being sold. Another Twi'lek and three humans joined her. The claustrophobic girl was not among them.
The five dancers were separated from the others. The other Twi'lek was a few centimeters shorter than Alema Rar, and a few kilograms lighter. Her green lekku were about a decimeter shorter than Alema Rar's, and her collar number was Eighteen.
Two of the humans could have been sisters. Both were short and thin, with long brown hair. Twenty-Four's collar was a few sizes too large for her neck, but Twenty-Nine's fit better. The last human was a tall red-head with an athletic build. Her hair was short, just past her ears and her collar number was Thirty-One. Still, Alema Rar knew that she was the most attractive of the group. Idly, she wondered what number was on her own collar.
Out of the corner of her eye Alema Rar noticed the claustrophobic girl, Fifty-Two, step forward as a domestic servant.
The binders were removed from the dancers' wrists, and each was told to do a routine to prove their skill. Alema Rar went second, and after her, the green Twi'lek and two other humans finished. With the thick nerfhide sleeves covering her lekku, Alema Rar wasn't quite able to pull off the performances that she normally could have. The other Twi'lek did even worse, and complained to the slaver that was evaluating them. Surprisingly, he was sympathetic, and explained that when it really mattered they would perform without the sleeves.
After the tryout, Alema Rar and her companions were prepared for travel with binders, hoods, and chains between their collars. Alema Rar was in front, and was led by a leash to another part of the ship. They didn't seem to take as many twists and turns this time, and after their hoods had been removed, another set of slave quarters was revealed.
There were four giant beds, all with comfortable looking silk bedding. Two human slaves were lounging on one of the beds, but Alema Rar sensed that about a dozen presences had spent some time in the room recently. Their escort took the binders off their wrists while explaining that this room was for the Great Schliebak's dancers.
“Those two will show you around,” the slaver said as he collected the binders and left. The other Twi'lek immediately began pulling on the nerfhide sleeves, and cursing them in Twi'leki when she couldn't budge them.
Numbers Eight and Forty explained that the Great Schliebak kept all his dancers locked in here together whenever they weren't entertaining or training. Alema Rar sensed a loathing from both of them when they mentioned the Hutt, but not as much as she had expected. She was mainly concerned with one of them being a plant anyway.
“Training?” Alema Rar asked.
Forty looked over at Alema Rar. “Schliebak makes us exercise at least an hour a day, plus two or three more practicing dancing. It's a tough schedule,” she replied.
At least I won't get bored, Alema Rar thought, as she nodded back to Forty.
“They usually give you at least one morning off a week, if you are up really late dancing or something,” Eight said. She paused a moment, then added, “This isn't the worst place to be a slave. Schliebak doesn't kill us at a whim, like a lot of the other Hutts do.”
Alema Rar felt a pang of pity for someone who seemed satisfied with not being killed on a whim. Then she thought with resolve, That's what I'm here to fix.
“Were do we sleep?” Twenty-Four asked.
“We have to sleep on one of the beds,” Forty replied. “We can share whichever one we want to, but all the dancers have to be on a bed,” she explained.
“It was all Darb's idea. He is always finding ways to make our lives miserable,” Eight added.
The Jedi felt a much stronger sense of loathing from them at the mention of the human. And here I was thinking that he just delivered the slaves to the Hutt, Alema Rar thought, filing the information away.
Eight and Forty showed the new dancers the refresher, as well as the walk-in closet, which were the only things in the room. In the refresher, she glanced at the mirror and saw that the number Two was on each side of her collar.
They had a much larger selection of clothes than on Darb's ship, although it was still limited to silks and other sheer fabrics. Forty explained that there was a much large changing room near Schliebak's throne room, where they would change into costumes for performances and such. Looking at the room again, Alema Rar decided that it wasn't so bad. About the only things really missing were a computer terminal and holovid screen, and the killer wardrobe went a long way in making up for that.
After a while, three more slaves came in: a Twi'lek, a human, and a Bothan. The Twi'lek was also wearing a headdress with the evil sleeves attached. Both Eight and Forty left for training after they introduced the new slaves.
Over the next hour or so several more slaves trickled in. A while later, a couple of guards took away Twenty-Four, with the loose fitting collar, and Twenty-Nine, after cuffing them and putting a hood over each of their heads. Schliebak definitely takes security seriously, Alema Rar thought as she found a spot on one of the giant beds with three other Twi'leks. She definitely wasn't used to sleeping with so many strangers. To make matters worse, the door kept opening, as girls returned or were taken out. Another short Force nap was all she managed.
It was nearly four in the morning when Twenty-Four and Twenty-Nine returned. Alema Rar didn't bother them, but she did sense that whatever had happened, they didn't seem to upset by it.
As she lay still on the bed, conscious of the three other sexy Twi'lek bodies sharing it with her, Alema Rar wanted so badly to stick a couple of fingers into her horny twat. Nothing but unforgiving durasteel greeted her. Nearly three days wasn't the longest she had ever been without an orgasm, but an intense battle was a lot better at distracting her than being surrounded by over a dozen virtually naked nubile slavegirls.
“Trust me, if not getting to cum is the worst thing that happens to you, then you're lucky,” one of her bedmates whispered to her in the darkness.
The Jedi thought about that a moment. Then she leaned over and whispered back, “I bet I can make you cum just by sucking your tits,” and ran a fingertip around one of them. Normally Twi'leks used their lekku to communicate with each other as much as speech. Since she had spent so much time around humans, Alema Rar was accustomed to not being able to. The kriffing nerfhide sleeves made it impossible to make the subtle gestures that she wanted to make to her fellow Twi'lek.
The other Twi'lek giggled, then responded, “There are holocams everywhere. If they catch us doing anything like that, they'll watch until we're almost done, then rush in and split us up. Then it's punishment for a week.”
Alema Rar could sense her trying to gesture with her lekku as well, and the frustration that came from not being able to. There was nothing to be done about that at the moment. She was interested in the punishment, but even more in the holocams. “But it's dark. They can't see us,” she replied softly.
In the dim light the Jedi saw her bedmate shake her head. “The holocams can see everything: infrared, ultraviolet, you name it.”
“Ah, okay. Thanks for the tip,” Alema Rar whispered as she relaxed again. That had been a very useful conversation. Not only had she learned about the capabilities of the holocams, but she had found out from another slave, which meant that there were at least a few security leaks around here. As she lay on the luxurious bedding, Alema Rar squeezed the invader that was trapped in her with her pussy. Soon, she thought with a tiny smile. Soon.
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