Meet Some Clients

Somehow, Fennec had lost everything - her weapons, her clothes, her freedom, even the dark curls covering her crotch - and been reduced from master assassin to sex-club advertisement. She was being paraded around the club door, unsteady as a newborn nerf on her platform heels and bare as bare could be. With every awkward step, she could feel the tax medallion banging against the stiff, leather collar around her neck, marking her as just one of the many "products" on offer.

Humans & aliens from every walk of Corellian society were on the street. The other club girls swirled around her in a giggling cloud of curves and latex, calling out enticements to each passerby. A hundred eyes slid over the gaggle of women, pausing on one or another but all of them lingered when they reached her, zealously taking in every square centimeter of exposed skin. Denied the tiny dignity of hiding behind her hands, she tried her best to hide behind the the buxom Twi'lek holding Fennec's leash, the one they called Mistress. But it only took a quick tug from Mistress to send her clomping out front for all Corellia to see.

The blush of shame glowing on her face somehow managed to increase with each passing group. She whimpered into her gag and tried to look down at the sidewalk, but the high collar **** her chin up. Fennec had no option but to stare straight ahead into the eyes of every passing man and women. Ever last one got a clear view of her ever reddening face.

A frightful thought bounced through her brain: What if a fellow bounty hunter or old client walked by?

Your name was everything in the mercenary trade and a lifetime's reputation would be destroyed the instant it became public that the feared Fennec Shand was caught moonlighting as a buyable bondage-toy. After that it wouldn’t matter how much armor she wrapped herself in, every eye that looked on her would see the same thing the eyes she was staring into saw now, a submissive strumpet with her tits out on a chilly Corellian sidewalk.

Many lascivious men and women enquired after Fennec's services. With each one, she braced for the moment recognition sparked on their face. If that happened, Fennec was helpless to do anything. Utter appeasement was her only hope. The idea that any moment, someone could appear and rendered her totally subservient to their slightest desires fueled an apprehension and an excitement that sent a warm wave through her bare body.

But, if anyone knew her, no one let on. Instead her blue-skinned Mistress redirected them to the eager appearing club girls around them. Of course that didn't stop wayward hands from finding their way to Fennec. While chatting up the other women, there would come a yank on her ponytail or a slap to her still-sensitive ass. The bold ones would just grab a breast. These wandering fingers elicited quite a few very un-mercenary-like "Eeps!" (or rather, gagged "Mmps!"). Most distracting of all was how quickly being groped by nameless strangers became entirely normal, even fun. Before long she started missing those hands when they went off with another girl.

One by one the girls disappeared into the club with customers in tow. Sometimes they'd return, having left a customer to other entertainments, but sooner or later they wouldn't, no doubt having become entertainments themselves. And the fewer girls there were, the more often wandering hands found her body, to Fennec's chagrin and elation.

Her mind drifted, becoming quite the passive pet as the night wore on. The leash controlled her movement and her bonds controlled her voice and arms. There was nothing for Fennec to do but stand there and let her brain go blank. Her imagination tried to wander but those fondling fingers always brought her back to Blue Sector. She found herself dreaming up a life as Candy the club girl. Candy didn't bother with bounties or always being aggressive and on guard, sleeping with one eye open and a hand on a blaster. She could be soft and girlie. Candy only had to please and be pleasant with off hours spent giggling over vapid gossip.

When she emerged from her daydream, all that was left in front of the club was Mistress and her pet Fennec. The Twi'lek's smile shined against her dark blue skin as she sized up a Corellian citizen approaching them.

"Looks like you're the last one left. Ready to get gobbled up, Candy?" the Twi'lek whispered in her ear.

Ignoring her gagged pet's response, Mistress stepped over to engage this newest client. With the other girls gone and her captor distracted, this was her best time to escape. On the other hand, all of this handling had left 'Candy' with more than a little pressure a firm hand on her leash could release.