Panic at the Disco

You resist the urge to sigh as you sip at your drink. You are sitting at a booth in Sabbo’s club while a blue Twi’lek dances on a table in front of you. Buying a Hutt **** through their underlings, as it turns out, is a somewhat tedious affair.

When a Hutt gives away, or sells, something they own, it’s just a wave of their hand and it gets done. Their underlings, however, need to draw up paperwork, ask their superiors for permission, who ask their own superiors who then get around to asking the Hutt ruling them, then they file the paperwork, process the payment, and finally done.

As a result of this, you have been sitting in the club, sipping beverages and watching the same blue Twi’lek dance, for nearly two hours. Of course, it seems the other slaves have found out what you’re doing and are, apparently, very approving of it.

Your Twi’lek dancer has been periodically giving you flashes and teases. If the fact that her panties are somewhat damp are any indication, you suspect she’s very much enjoying herself. Meanwhile, the Mirialan girl that has been serving you your drinks, has been very happy to flirt with you.

You sight the Mirialan **** sauntering over to you with a refill for your current drink. You’d been sampling your way through the club’s stock until finally settling on a drink that tasted like a combination of green tea and good quality vodka.

Of course, in order to deliver your drink, the green skinned girl just had to slide onto your knee, grinding herself on you in the process. Then, while taking care not to spill your drink, she simultaneously rubbed herself on your leg while setting your drink down. Since this isn’t the first time she’s done this, you can already feel the poor girl’s juices soaking your trouser leg as a soft moan escapes her lips. You amuse yourself by grabbing a double handful of the girl’s breasts, groping her gently but firmly.

The Mirialan, like the dancer who’s now giving the two of you an amused smirk, is garbed only in a two-piece bikini with a translucent ‘veil’ as an added loincloth. This outfit did very little to protect the slaves from molestation, but right now it was aiding your serving girl in her attempts to tease you.

Another soft moan brings your attention back to the girl rubbing herself off on your knee and you realise her attempts to flirt with you have been driving her crazy. You thus decide that working with the girl version of blue balls is no way to work at all. You wrap an arm around the girl and bend her forwards a little, while your other hand slips into her panties. This action elicits a surprised gasp from the Mirialan as you rub a finger up and down the folds of her labia for lubrication.

With that done, you slip your finger into her very moist snatch and feel your way around for that lumpy spot. It takes you only a moment to find it and you begin softly rubbing at it. The Mirialan’s eyes roll up and she collapses forwards. It was all she could do to wrap her arms around your neck and hold on while you take her for a ride. You begin aggressively fingering her G-spot and delight in the sounds she’s making as you drive her closer and closer to release.

As you finger-fuck the Mirialan, you can feel her slowly tensing up, her entire weight being transferred onto you and her moans becoming more and more ragged and **** until finally, her whole body tenses, she arcs her back, her moans come out frantically and her eyes roll up into her skull. Then a pulse rips through her body and she comes crashing down onto you, her lower half spasming rapidly while she cries into your shoulder in muffled ecstasy.

You continue idly fingering the girl for a little longer, making sure to get the last of the tingles out, before removing your digit from her sex and wrapping that arm around her back as well. You then just hold the girl while she basks in the euphoria of orgasmic release.

“Your purchase sir,” came the voice of the **** master. Behind him was Naya, being led by a leash. The Mirialan slipped herself off of you and bolted back to the bar, stopping only to flash you a massive grin in thanks.

With the Mirialan gone, you look over at your new ****. Naya was standing there, a leash connecting her to the **** master’s hand while her own were covering her privates. She’d been brought out wearing nothing but a shock collar.

You draw in a deep breath as you observe this. Thankfully, you’d expected it and had spawned some clothing for the poor Twi’lek. As soon as the **** master handed you her leash, you gestured towards the bundle and Naya rapidly began dressing herself.

Once she is dressed, you take a moment to fix her outfit up, and then take a step back and admire the view. Naya was garbed in a pink Yukata robe with a white cherry blossom design. She gave you a big smile and you couldn’t help but pat her on the cheek.

This, of course, is when things went wrong.

The first clue you had to the approaching storm was when an overwhelming feeling of dread hit you. This combined with images that flashed through your mind about Weequay pirates gunning down the patrons.

You put a hand to your head as you try to figure out what happened but turn towards the entrance to the club anyway. As if on cue, the doors slid open and revealed a large group of Weequay pirates, their blasters in their hands.

You react almost on instinct, ripping your blaster from its holster at your belt and firing several shots into the mob of Weequays. The pirates, clearly experienced in such things, began wildly returning fire in your general direction as they darted into the club in search of cover. This gave you some breathing room.

Breathing room you used to slam your foot onto the edge of the table in your booth, tearing the platform from it’s housing. You then catch the dancer you just sent flying in a bridal carry and put her down behind the dislodged table as blasterfire begins to fill the air.

“Get on the ground!” you cry to the **** girls who looked like they were about to bolt in every direction at once. The girls, taken over by a fit of obedience, immediately dropped to the ground while you peeked out around the table and fired at a couple of Weequays out in the open.

“Cover your ears and stay down!” you command and the girls obeyed, some already crying from fear. With that done, you peek around the side of your table and fire a few more rounds off before bounding towards the bar and taking cover behind it.

The bartender was already dead. While the bar itself was tanking blasterfire like no tomorrow, the bottles, many of which were glass, behind the bar had exploded into hypervelocity shards of superheated shrapnel. It was here that you got a proper understanding of why blasters were the king of the Star Wars battlefield. Who needs grenades when your pistol does that job for you?

You pop up from your cover and squeeze a few shots at a group of pirates that had taken to a second story lounge. Immediately, you noticed that, while experienced, the pirates were extremely invested in their own safety. An entire group of ten ducked behind cover the moment you fired a single shot at them. With that in mind, you formulate a plan.

With a few more shots at the second story Weequays for good luck, you vault over the bar and dash for one of the dead Weequays in the open. This particular pirate had a rifle of some sort and you hedge your bets on it being fully automatic.

Picking the weapon up in your left hand, you fire an experimentory burst in the direction of the second story pirates. Satisfied, you hold down the trigger and turn to the group that had run in the opposite direction. With aimed fire, the pirates posed no challenge at all, the last one dropping just as your captured weapon stopped firing.

You look down at your appropriated firearm and hear it crackling and hissing. You toss it away without a second thought and turn towards the second story group. Apparently, the rifle had drilled through what cover the pirates had taken and turned lounge chairs into fragmentation grenades. You took a moment to watch and then nodded to yourself when nothing moved.

A groan from behind you caught your attention and you whirled around with pistol ready only to discover a badly wounded Weequay clutching his belly. Lowering your pistol, you walk up to the Weequay.

“S’posed ta be an easy job,” the Weequay muttered, coughing.

“Who hired you and why?” You demanded, standing over the stricken pirate.

“Kroak the Hutt, wanted ta punish Sabbo for sumthin’ or other”, the pirate replied. “Didn’t care, money’s good” he added.

“I can get you medical help” you say to the Weequay, who began laughing. The laughter turned into a coughing fit.

“Don’t, ya know what the Hutts’ll do ta me” the Weequay told you. Knowing them, it would be very much preferable to die. “Finish me off,” the pirate said.

“I’m guessing you don’t want a blowjob” you comment, causing the pirate to laugh some more. “Very well then” you state as you level your pistol over the pirate’s head. He gives you a grin as he stares down the barrel of your gun. The trigger is a lot heavier for some reason and it isn’t until after your gun goes off that you realise your hand is shaking.

You suck in a breath and turn back to the club.

“Are you girls alright?” You ask the group of **** girls. They all look very shaken but some are putting themselves back together surprisingly quickly. “Take . . .” you begin as you look around at the utter carnage. “Take stock of who’s alive and who’s injured” you order and the girls move to obey, or at least the ones that were faster at putting themselves together do.

It was at this point that the guards finally arrived. You twist around to face them.

“You!” you call out to the guards “Do a sweep of the outside and make sure there are no more pirates!” you order. The guards stare at you dumbly. “I gave you an order!” you growl and the guards jump to obey. “And seize these weapons while you’re at it” you add as an afterthought.

With that done you pull out your holocommunicator and dial up Tanna. It takes her a few moments to answer, and when she does, she’s clearly naked and in bed.

“Y-yeah um what?” Tanna asked, looking very eager to hang up on you. A hand reached over her shoulder and began grouping her boob. A hand that you just knew would be green and belong to a certain Nautilan.

“I need you to come pick up a girl, she’s a **** I just bought, I’ll tell you the whole story when you get here” you relay. Tanna, apparently sensing something, immediately swatted away Adanna’s hand and stood up. The way the communicators were set up meant you only got the top half of her but still. You just wish the holograms showed more detail.

“What happened?” Tanna asked, concern in her voice. “Are you alright?” she asked.

“I’m fine, just had a short firefight, the club’s a mess by the way,” you state, turning to look at the devastation, now with **** girls picking through the wreckage to check on the customers. “But I have a funny feeling I’m going to be busy for the rest of the day and I want my new purchase somewhere . . . safer” you say. “And do make sure to get rid of her shock collar while you’re at it” you order, turning your attention back to holographic Tanna. The girl merely nodded in response, concern written all over her face.

“At least we won’t have a shortage of jobs for the foreseeable future,” you mutter. “See you when you get here” you say before clicking the communicator off. “I need a change of trousers” you mutter to yourself, looking down at your still wet trouser leg. While having girl-cum soak your trousers might be erotic as all hell, but it was starting to get rather uncomfortable.