Star Wars: Jedi Adventures
Chapter 8
Rating: NC-17

Bethany Handcuff

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)



The next day brought another grueling workout in the gym, followed by a gang shower, and a short rest in their room. Most of the slavegirls were waiting for the slavers to take them to the dance studio to practice when the nine slavers arrived, including Nyk.

The Jedi immediately sensed that something was different about the slavers this time. Nyk quickly found her and ordered her to come to him.

“How may I serve you, Master?” She asked him meekly as she approached.

“Turn around. Darb wants me to take you someplace special,” he explained as she turned to face away from him.

“May I ask where, Master?” she asked as he cuffed her hands together behind her back. Alema Rar noticed another slaver pulling a red-headed human, Number Thirty-One, off to the side as well.

“Slaves don't ask questions,” Nyk said as he lightly slapped her on the ass.

“Yes Master, I'm sorry, Master,” Alema Rar replied. Even though he didn't answer, asking brought the answer to the top of his mind. She should have known that he was taking her to Schliebak, for her tryout. Still, it never hurt to practice a little mind reading.

The familiar black hood was pulled down over her head, cutting off her sight. Alema Rar sensed the other slaver led Thirty-One over, and he and Nyk start chaining the two of them together. She was slightly surprised, and a little jealous, that the red headed human could earn a tryout as quickly as she had.

The two slavers took great care to disguise the route to Schliebak. After at least twenty minutes of twists, turns, and turbolift rides they entered a room and stopped. Still, Alema Rar sensed that Schliebak was several dozen meters forward, and at least two decks up. A hand pulled on her hood, and the bright light hit her eyes.

It took the Jedi only a moment to get a look at her surroundings. It was another scanning room. Three guards were in the room, besides Nyk and the slaver that had brought Alema Rar and Thirty-One in. One of the guards approached the red-head with a larger, more complicated scanner than the one that Alema Rar had been scanned with when she first came on board.

The guards took their time running the device over Thirty-One's body, starting at her head. As the scanner passed over her collar, Alema Rar saw her flinch, and felt a small jolt of pain from her. The Jedi made a mental note of that, and discreetly observed, paying careful attention to what parts of her body they gave extra attention to.

Nearly ten minutes later they still weren't finished. I guess Karrde wasn't kidding about their security, the Jedi thought as she patiently waited her turn. Finally, the two guards completed the scan. One of them switched places with the third guard as they moved to scan Alema Rar.

The two guards started at her head, and slowly moved the scanner down her body. Alema Rar stayed calm, letting the Force flow through her.

When the scanner got to her collar, Alema Rar made sure to pay attention to where the spark of electricity started. Just as before, it began on the left, under the number Two that was on her collar. Now she felt confident that she could disable the collar when the time came.

Several minutes later, the guards got to the chastity belt that was welded around her waist. She thought about asking them exactly what they were looking for, but she didn't think that the guards doing the scanning would appreciate being distracted by a slave's pointless questions.

Remembering the way the previous scans had reacted to the unusual composition of the metal rod trapped inside her chastity belt, the Jedi reached out with the Force when they got to her crotch. She sensed anxiety from the scanners, then a moment later, felt them return to the intense concentration that they had before.

“They're clean,” the guard announced when they finally finished the scan. Nyk and the other slaver put the hoods back on the slaves' heads, and took them on another heavily disguised route. When they stopped this time, Alema Rar could sense the Hutt nearby. The group had stopped in a large dressing room. Another slave, a blonde human woman, gave Alema Rar and Thirty-One outfits to wear.

Besides the Twi'lek's being blue, and the human's being red, the two outfits were identical. Sheer diaphanous silk that wrapped around their breasts, leaving their tummies bare. Silk pants with the waists just below the chastity belts. The shoes that the slave gave them matched the outfits, with towering heels.

The Twi'lek hadn't seen a pair quite like them. Instead of soles that ran from toe to heel, there was an empty space in the middle. Several wide blue nerfhide straps kept the heels securely in place. The blonde slave locked the anklestrap into place with a small padlock. Next, the two slaves pulled on finger-tipless elbow-length gloves, that matched their outfits. They felt like the gloves that the dance instructor had given them. The ones that would let them grip slick metal. Lastly, one of the guards removed Alema Rar's nerfhide headdress. She wriggled her lekku in relief as the thick sleeves were pulled off. Finally the two slaves were taken into Schliebak's throne room.

The Great Schliebak was reclining on his repulsor sled, with a few red-shirted guards to either side. There were several more spread out around the room as well. Strangely he had no slaves already with him. One of the guards had to nudge the fat slug awake.

“Ah, my newest dancers!” he announced, when his bloated eyes focused on the two slaves and their escorts. Schliebak waved one of his undersized hands and music began pulsing from hidden speakers.

The two slavegirls didn't need any more instructions. Both started dancing their best, side by side, co-operating more than competing.

Twenty minutes into the routine, Darb entered, accompanied by a dark skinned human male, and the woman that had used the sticky glove to hold Alema Rar's tongue. Even though they were interrupting the Hutt, all three seemed ecstatic.

“I said never bother me while I'm picking new slaves!” Schliebak screamed as the three slavers entered the throne room.

While his two partners were a little worried by the Hutt's anger, Darb seemed to completely blow off the outburst.

“Sorry, Schliebak, but this can't wait,” Darb said as he approached the Hutt's throne. “I have more information about that little raid that I was telling you about,” he continued.

“It's Great Schliebak!” the Hutt shouted, still eying his two slaves, as they moved out of the slavers' path.

“Oh, yeah, Great Schliebak,” Darb corrected himself absentmindedly as he came to a stop a few meters in front of the Hutt's over-sized throne. He looked pointedly at the two dancing slavegirls. “Maybe they can wait outside for a few minutes, while we discuss business?” the slaver suggested.

“Ah, there's no need of that, my friend,” Schliebak replied. He glanced at one of his red-shirted guards. “Bring a couple of the deprivation hoods for my tasty little slaves,” he commanded him.

The guards rushed out, while Alema Rar and Thirty-One continued dancing for the Hutt's pleasure. A minute later the guard returned, with two thick black nerfhide hoods.

One was especially designed for a Twi'lek's head, with openings for lekku to fit through. Alema Rar turned away from one of the guards when he ordered her too, and she felt the stiff nerfhide being pulled onto her head. The Twi'lek obediently opened her mouth wide and allowed the guard to push the built-in gag into her mouth, and felt a flash of fear as her companion did the same. The hood had no eye or ear openings, and only two tiny holes that lined up with her nostrils.

Since all of Schliebak's slaves wore the durasteel shock collars, the hood did not include its own collar. Instead the hoods ended at the top of the slaves' necks, just above the collar. After Alema Rar was tightly hooded, the guard guided her to one of the poles, and pulled her hands behind her back. Two clicks later, she was cuffed to the vertical pole.

The tight-fitting nerfhide around the base of her lekku seemed to magnify the sensations on them. The thick hood worked great for its designed purpose, which was keeping the wearer from seeing or hearing. However, it wasn’t designed for the greater senses of a Jedi. Calmly, Alema Rar drew the Force in, amplifying her hearing.

“The planet Pakrik Major is sending about six thousand of their school kids on a trip to Corsuscant. To see how the great Galactic capital is recovering from all that vongforming and all, I guess,” Darb said, laughing. “Their ship is an old luxury liner, no defenses whatsoever. I got their whole flight plan, ship's schematic, everything,” he added, grinning triumphantly.

Alema Rar waited patiently, like a deaf slave should.

She heard Schliebak clear his throat. “It sounds too easy my friend. How did you get all this information?” the Hutt asked suspiciously. “And where the poodoo is Pakrik Major? I've never heard of it!”

“Kanchen Sector, Expansion Region,” Darb replied blithely. He paused a moment. “The families of the kids on the ship are rich. Some of them are even rich enough to hire private security guards to accompany their precious brats on their special journey.” Darb grinned evilly. “One of the bodyguards felt like she didn't get paid quite enough,” he added with a hearty laugh.

None of the slavers or guards noticed their helpless Twi'lek slave tensing against her cuffs, seething with rage.

Alema Rar heard Schliebak's booming laughter died down before he asked, “How many of these body guards are going to be on board? They could cause problems.”

Darb frowned slightly. “About a hundred personal bodyguards, plus a few dozen ship's guards. We'll take the bridge, and jump the ship somewhere quiet. Then we'll offer all the guards that are interested the opportunity to leave in the life pods, as long as they don't take any of our property with them. Then we offer the rest a few thousand credits each to leave. Whoever is stupid enough to stay, we kill.”

The Hutt's booming laughter washed over the enraged Jedi again.

“As usual my dear Darb, you have a well thought out plan, resulting in a massive number of slaves and huge profits for us. You are by far my favorite Human,” Schliebak complimented his co-conspirator. Before the human could respond, he added, “Let's celebrate your brilliance by you joining me in evaluating my newest dancing girls!”

The Jedi was appalled. Children!

“Thanks a lot, Great Schliebak,” Darb replied, “But I really need to get back to my ship, I've got mission planning, and both of our ships need to head out within the hour.”

Sithspit, it's too soon> Alema Rar thought, dismayed. She knew; to the core of her being, that she had to do everything possible to stop them. The problem was, she still had no idea where the bridge was, where she was right now, or how she would escape. Still, to protect one child, must less six thousand, from a life of slavery, Alema Rar would fight to the death.

“I insist, my friend. Besides, I've almost made my decision,” the Hutt replied.

“Fine, let's get it over with, then,” Darb decided.

Ready or not, now was the time. Alema Rar calmed herself with the Force as a guard began unfastening the thick hood on her head. By the time anyone could see her face again, the Twi'lek was a docile slavegirl, about to entertain for her Master.

Alema Rar caught the Hutt's eye and made the gesture for a slave asking to speak, which he granted with an inpatient wave of his under-sized hand.

“Great Schliebak, your humble slave would like to perform a very special dance for you. However, in order to bring you the greatest pleasure, I need for my chastity belt to be removed, your Greatness,” the Twi'lek asked.

The Jedi watched Schliebak ponder this a moment. Having the chastity belt taken off would certainly make things easier. After all, her back-up plan had never actually been tested. Finally, the Hutt made his decision.

“Slave Two, you better do something that I've never even heard of if I cut off that chastity belt, and it better be kriffing fantastic, you understand?” Schliebak said, menacingly.

“You won't be disappointed, your Greatness,” Alema Rar assured him with a smile that was entirely genuine, but not for the reason anyone thought.

The Twi'lek was quickly moved away from the throne by two of the red-shirted guards. While they awaited the laser cutter, she watched Thirty-One dance for the slug. Alema Rar was impressed, and mildly irritated at the skill of her performance. She sensed that the Human was trying to dance so well that Alema Rar couldn't possibly outshine her. The Jedi just smirked at the idea.

It took several minutes later for the belt cutter to arrive. He looked so much like the old man that had cut the durasteel harness off Tahiri and her on Spraikela that she had to use the Force to make sure it wasn't him. Relieved, Alema Rar calmed herself while he set about cutting the durasteel chastity belt off her waist.

Less than a minute later, Thirty-One finished her routine by draping herself length-wise on the tail of Schliebak's slimy body. As the two pieces of the chastity belt fell to the deck, Alema Rar glanced down at the front half, the smooth inside glistening from her juices.

Alema Rar was practically giddy with anticipation as she pulled her diaphanous silk pants back on. The cool air on her virtually exposed crotch added to her arousal as she strutted to the Hutt's giant platform throne. She grabbed one of the poles as she passed by, heels clicking on the deck. Perfect, Alema Rar thought as she felt the glove's grip. She briefly considered asking Schliebak if she could take off her heels, but decided that she would be nimble enough with them on.

While she took the last few steps towards the Hutt's throne, Alema Rar scanned the guards that she could see, and got a feel for their alertness, and that of the ones she couldn't see. Finally she reached the platform, and stepped up, right onto it. She was close enough that the drooling Hutt could touch her with his little arms.

Thanks to the height of the heels that she was wearing, her crotch was perfectly eye level with Schliebak, giving him a prime view. Alema Rar silently thanked the Force for leading her to leave the sandals on.

“Ready, Great Schliebak?” the Jedi asked.

The Hutt made an unintelligible grunting noise in response.

Hips slowly gyrating, Alema Rar took another step closer, her pussy barely ten centimeters from his bulging right eye. She could sense the guards watching, as well as the holocams in the corners. None of them were seemed to be looking directly at the space between her and the Hutt.

Alema Rar saw the flicker of alarm in Schliebak's eyes as he tried to summon his guards. The barest of croaks escaped his mouth when the rod that had been trapped in her pussy the past week ignited into a blue lightsaber blade, stabbing through his eye, and out of the back of his round head.

The Hutt's body had barely begun to convulse when Alema Rar sensed her collar activating. She pulled her lightsaber out of the side of his head and quickly cut through the left side of the durasteel a split-second before the crippling shock hit her. The long, tight gloves gave her a firm grip on her lightsaber handle.

The eyes of the nearest guard on her right were wide in a panic. Alema Rar gave him a half-second to clear his blaster from its holster before taking a step towards him and slicing through his face with her lightsaber, catching the blaster as it fell from his hand. As she completed the step, she wrapped an arm around the guard's neck and used him as a human shield while shooting the controls for the door, keeping everyone locked in.

Frakkin' Karrde,” Alema Rar heard Darb say, as a handful of blaster bolts punched into the dead guard's torso. She shoved him forward and dived behind Schliebak's throne, and its relative safety. The Jedi quickly took out one of the red-shirted guards that had a clear shot at her.

As she scampered to the opposite side of the throne, Alema Rar planned out her next attack. Locking her lightsaber on, she stood up enough to hurl the glowing blade towards a pair of Schliebak's guards. With the Force guiding its way, both were cut down with ease. The Jedi rose up again to catch the returning weapon, and shot the dark skinned man that had come in with Darb.

Schliebak's guards seemed a little hesitant to shoot their former master. They were trying to aim high and time their shots for when Alema Rar stuck her head up. Darb and the woman, on the other hand, had both already missed low, hitting the massive Hutt a couple of times. The Jedi took a moment to shoot several holocams out, and thrust her lightsaber deep into Schliebak's body, just to make sure he was good and dead.

Leaning out from the side, Alema Rar put a blaster bolt into a guard that was trying to flank her. Reaching out with the Force, she aimed his dropped blaster towards the other guards, and pulled the trigger, creating a diversion. A split-second later she popped up again and shot another guard, throwing her lightsaber as she ducked back down.

Alema Rar spotted another holocam and took it out as well. Since the remaining five guards, along with Darb and the woman, were behind good cover, Alema Rar decided to take things up another notch.

Calming herself, she reached out with the Force to sense which of the guards had the loosest grips on their blasters. Three seemed to be likely candidates. Alema Rar looked down at the blaster pistol she was using, and found the safety on it. Reaching out with the Force again, she flipped the safety switches on the other two guards' blasters. Darb and the woman were using a different model, unfortunately.

Despite her best effort, Alema Rar could only rip two of the three blasters she tried for out of their owners' hands. As soon as the felt the two weapons torn free, she leapt up onto the repulsor sled, and over the Hutt's body. Almost immediately the five remaining blasters began tracking her. She sensed horror from two of the guards when their weapons wouldn't fire.

As the Jedi landed, she shot the woman in the face. The sheer speed of her Force assisted assault kept the guards and slavers from hitting her. A few steps later she missed another guard by millimeters, and was missed by centimeters. Before Alema Rar could aim and shoot again, she was upon one of the red-shirted guards fumbling to take his blaster off safe.

He tossed the useless weapon at her face as he dived away. With the Force guiding her movements, Alema Rar sliced the blaster in half with her lightsaber, while burning a hole through his back with her blaster. Without pausing, she sprinted towards the next guard, firing at and missing another along the way.

Still on the run, Alema Rar deflected her target's blaster bolt back into his chest. The Jedi quickly changed direction for the next guard, who had replaced his yanked-free blaster with a vibroblade. It was a poor match for a lightsaber.

Alema Rar sliced his arm off just above the wrist and pierced his lung in one stroke.

Two Force leaps later her lightsaber was hilt deep in the head of another red-shirted guard, straight down into his body. The last guard had picked up a blaster, and was scrambling back to cover. Darb was sprinting for the controls to the door. As she let the dead guard fall off her lightsaber, Alema Rar Force-pushed Darb face first into the wall. He fell to the ground, unmoving.

With her lightsaber held in front of her defensively, and her blaster aiming at him, Alema Rar slowly walked towards the last guard, crouching behind a poof couch. Her heels clicked ominously on the deck.

“Stand up,” she told him, adding the power of the Force to the command.

The red-shirted guard slowly rose to his feet, a look of pure fear on his face. He pointed his blaster in her general direction, but Alema Rar sensed no warning that he was about to fire. In his other hand, for some unknown reason, he held the front half of her chastity belt.

“Drop it!” Alema Rar commanded him.

Shocked from fear, the guard dropped the piece of her chastity belt to the floor.

“The blaster, frakk it!” She yelled at him.

Alema Rar sensed a wave of relief from him as the blaster hit the deck.

“Now come out here were I can see you,” the Jedi instructed him as she lowered her own blaster.

Trembling, the guard stepped out from behind the couch. Alema Rar sniffed the air, then glanced down at the front of his pants.

He had peed in them!

“What is this, your first lightfight?” The Jedi asked him.

“N-No,” he stammered, trying to cover the dark stain on his crotch.

“Never mind,” she said, wanting get on with her mission. “Now, tell me where the bridge is,” she commanded him, adding pressure with the Force.

“De-Deck One, sec-section One,” he stuttered.

Cursing silently, Alema Rar realized that she need to ask the question a different way.

“What's the fastest way to get there?” She asked, moving the blue tip of her lightsaber to about twenty centimeters from his face.

The shaking guard stammered his way through telling Alema Rar how to get to the bridge. She had to make him repeat himself several times, between his stuttering and her making sure Darb didn't wake up before his time. Finally she understood.

Just as she put the guard into a Force-sleep, Darb started to wake up.

Conscious that a massive amount of re-enforcements were on the way, Alema Rar scanned the room for any remaining holocams. Finding none, she turned her attention back to the groggy slaver.

The durasteel heel of her sandals were perfect for stomping on his ankle as he tried to crawl to his feet. However, she was disappointed that he didn't scream as loud as some of the girls he had tortured in that room the other night, though.

Even if it meant she had to fight her way through a thousand slavers, she would make him pay.

Darb had spotted his blaster lying on the deck a couple of meters away. He crawled towards it, dragging his crushed ankle along. Alema Rar let his hand get within a few centimeters of it, and then, with an evil cackle, moved it a couple more meters away with the Force.

Enraged, the slaver suddenly kicked back with his good leg. With the reflexes of a Jedi, Alema Rar swept her lightsaber down, and allowed him to cut his own foot in half on the blade.

A loud banging on the door distracted her from listening to the helpless slaver howl in agony. At least a dozen beings were on the other side, with more on the way.

Not quite ready to finish Darb off, Alema Rar stepped over and quickly slashed horizontally through the door, killing several of the slavers and sending the rest scrambling away.

She was mildly surprised to see Darb once again crawling for the blaster. This time she reached out with the Force, and found a firm grip on his balls.

The battle-hardened slaver forgot all about the blaster. He forgot about everything that ever mattered to him, except the two tender sacks between his legs.

What a howl! Alema Rar squeezed to the point of him passing out, then eased up just long enough for him to think that it was over. His screams hurt her ears they were so loud. He vainly tried to protect his manhood, but there weren't any hands to push away. Sensing a surge of anticipation from the slavers in the corridor, Alema Rar decided to go ahead and put the shik out of the galaxy's misery.

With her extended hand, Alema Rar closed her fist tighter, using the Force to compress his nuts even further. Finally, the Twi'lek felt the left one burst open, oozing into his scrotum. Moving her attention to the right one, Alema Rar crushed it a few seconds later, although Darb had already blacked out from the pain.

A Jedi leaves nothing to chance. In spite of the multiple serious wounds, Alema Rar ripped off his shirt and carved her initials into his back with her lightsaber. With the Force guiding her, the letters were etched lightly into the deck as well.

Alema Rar heard the distinctive whine of a portable power generator starting up in the corridor. Moving quickly, she found the thinnest-looking guard, ran over and pulled off his gun belt. Then she picked up a couple of discarded blasters, put one in the holster, and tucked the other one in the belt at the small of her back. Alema Rar had a twinge of regret as she glanced at Thirty-One lying face-up on the deck, a burnt hole in her stomach, and another one in her right shoulder. Since her lightsaber didn't have a belt clip, she would have to carry it.

The massive hulk of Schliebak lying atop his platform throne was perfect cover for her to cut an escape route. But first Alema Rar had to get rid of a few things.


For starters the shoes had to go. As comfortable as she was in heels, she could still move better with bare feet. Her lightsaber made quick work of the locks on the nerfhide straps.


The next part was a bit trickier. Her collar probably had some kind of tracking device in it, so it would have to go. Carefully Alema Rar cut through the durasteel, and the two halves of the collar fell to the deck.

Alema Rar felt sort of weird without the hard durasteel embracing her neck, but the mission came first. Pushing her regrets aside, she started walking back to the back side of Schliebak’s throne, to cut through the deck and into the room below.

Halfway there a crack appeared between the two halves of the door. The Jedi had to make a split-second decision―try and cut through the deck, or attack the slavers head-on. Then one of the attackers tossed a grenade through the door. Alema Rar caught it with the Force a few centimeters from the deck, and pushed it back out into the corridor.


Since she didn’t want to follow the grenade into the corridor, Alema Rar ran behind the platform throne and started cutting a half-meter hole into the deck, angling the cut so the durasteel wouldn’t fall through the hole. After a quick, deep breath, she lifted the plug up with the Force and moved it aside.

Luckily the room she dropped into was empty. Reaching up, she replaced the plug in its hole, hoping that it wouldn't be noticed for at least a minute. Then she opened the door, scanned the corridor for guards, and ran towards the bridge.

Using the Force, Alema Rar sprinted down the corridors in a blur. The Hutt kept his throne room near the bridge, but she would have to make it up four decks. Well, five, since she had dropped down a level escaping the throne room.


The handful of crew members she passed were dealt with as quickly as possible, either with the lightsaber or by knocking them out. Finally she made it to the turbolift closest to the bridge.


As Alema Rar waited for the lift to arrive, she hoped that the slavers hadn't thought of locking the lift tubes down. They hadn't. Faintly, she heard the lift locking into place. Just before the doors opened, she sensed why the lift hadn't been locked down. It was full of guards, amped up and ready for action.

A Force push sent the front row into the rest, knocking most of them down, and tangling the blasters of the ones who stayed on their feet. Twisting sideways to get past the still opening doors, Alema Rar rushed in.

A dozen guards, trapped in a turbolift, taken by surprise, against a lightsaber wielding Jedi is not a good match-up. The guards were so close together that Alema Rar was able to slice two, or even three, with almost every slash. Five seconds later, standing knee deep in body parts, she calmly keyed the controls for the bridge level. As the lift ascended, the Twi'lek hummed along with the lift-tube music.


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