Defectors' Contest: Pre-Show

"Well, if it isn't the Sith's skankiest Apprentice," Kira drawled, cocking her hips to one side and resting a hand idly on them as she reached out towards her target with the other and gestured, palm up and two fingers curling and straightening repeatedly. "Finally managed to pull your throat off of your Master's cock for long enough to check your messages?" The black-haired young woman opposite her bit her lips and hummed as invisible fingers slid up into her pussy and began teasing one of her weak spots, their strokes insistent and unstoppable. "You're one to talk," Jaesa replied, resting one hand on the thigh of her outstretched leg as she bent at the waist and shifted one foot forwards, giving her counterpart a clear look down her cleavage and arching her back to push her tightly-clothed ass towards anyone behind her. "After all," she continued, sticking two fingers up at her counterpart and waggling her tongue between them every few syllables, "it's even more miraculous that the Jedi's sluttiest Padawan managed to stop making out with her Master's cunt for long enough to send one."

Kira groaned at the sensation of Jaesa's infamous silver tongue lapping at her folds - but never actually dipping between them, the bitch - before a scalding, sticky wave of lust crashed down onto them both. They lunged at each other, robes and clothes shredding off of their bodies in clouds of fabric scraps, and crashed straight into a tongue-tangling kiss. Both of them moaned into it as their tongues immediately began prodding and batting back and forth, each trying to deflect or pin the other down so that its owner could claim that she invaded her counterpart's mouth with a flood of saliva and a teasing, twirling tongue first. Fingertips traced cords of rock-hard muscle and sunk into plush fat as each seized the other's impossibly juicy bubble butts with both hands, kneading and groping the cream-skinned globes with the sort of sleazy shamelessness that they normally only received in dive bars on a night out to blow off some steam.

They pulled back for air, thin strings of saliva connecting their out stretched tongues for a moment, before Kira spat in Jaesa's mouth. The fallen Jedi simply kept the tongue-lolling, open-mouthed grin plastered on her face to show off the studs running up the middle of the appendage, as she locked eyes with Kira and swallowed loudly - before slapping the redhead's ass with one hand and pulling her in for another kiss with a flex of the ****. She hollowed her cheeks as she tried her best to literally take Kira's breath away, but a sharp telekinetic slap across her face left her reeling and hornier than ever. "We need," Kira panted, chest heaving in her woefully inadequate half-cup bra, "to finish getting ready." Jaesa, through a supreme effort of will, managed not to turn her nod into a lunge for the Jedi's fat, achingly-hard nipples. "We do," she agreed shakily, practically vibrating with excitement as two large bottles slapped into their outstretched hands.

The Sith moaned long and low as Kira gripped her bottle with both hands, held it at hip height, and squeezed a gout of body oil up Jaesa's abs, over the inch-wide latex bandeau wrapped around her chest, and into her cleavage as phantom hands glided over her body to smear it across her curves. Not to be outdone, she quickly 'returned fire', pumping her hips in time with three short, sharp squirts that splashed Kira's abs and tits. The Jedi responded with a telekinetic slap of Jaesa's chest that spun her around and another long squirt of oil that coated her ass and ran down her legs until everything below the waist was glistening and slick. They continued their back-and-forth until both were thoroughly oiled-up, Jaesa squeezing the last dregs of her bottle onto Kira's thong clad crotch with a flex of her thighs that popped the bottle at both ends.

Both women panted as they backed away from each other, the high heels of their knee-high boots clicking on the polished floor, gazes roving up and down glistening curves; Kira's packed into lace-trimmed white satin and Jaesa's into spike-studded black leather, tits straining their tops and asses swallowing their thongs so deeply that, from behind, it took a second glance to spot that they were even wearing any. "I think they've waited long enough," Kira smirked, her contempt for her fallen counterpart drowned out for the moment under the crashing waves of lust pouring off of the crowd outside. "Forget them," Jaesa replied, her own hatred for, in her eyes, a traitor to the Empire likewise smothered, "I've waited long enough." Bolts were shoved aside and latches were flipped by bursts of telekinetic power, the doors lining the walls behind each woman opening for just long enough to admit their first 'challenge' of the day before slamming shut again.

"Ooh, quite the start," Kira crooned, threading both hands through her hair and arching her back slightly to better show off her body. "You boys really think you can wear us out before anyone else gets a go?"

Jaesa sneered at her half of the 'challenge', cocking her hip and planting one hand on it while she flipped them off with the other. "As if a real Sith would ever succumb to a bunch of pigs," she drawled, "even ones with cocks almost fat enough to match the rest of them."

Both, regardless of outward displays of confidence or disdain, shared the same thought. Holy fuck, that's a lot of Gamorreans...

Who triumphs in round one?

Option 1: The novelty of a Jedi (openly, anyway) behaving so sluttily entices some of Jaesa's group over to Kira, giving her the win once the dust has settled.

Option 2: Jaesa's goading is so successful that some of Kira's group comes over to help try to put her in her place, giving her the win once the dust has settled.

Option 3: It's a draw; this early in the contest, each of them simply burns through her assigned group before any of them can be tempted elsewhere.

**Option X:** Something else.