Winning An Asset

[Ali Hadrix]

"I’ve told you everything you need to know, Ali." Tara spoke, her voice deadpan, slow, even, frightening. The young woman's eyes had become deep pools of mistrust and uncontrollable violence, as if a deadly current swam beneath their surfaces. Ali's play time had gone from new and acute to something dark and strange, and she did not like the territory she'd accidentally wandered into. Her best option was to release Tara and end the night as it were now. She'd performed cigarette and fire play before but had never actually hurt anyone, and Tara's willingness to have herself harmed was scaring Ali half to death. She felt her hand shaking and her eyes begin to wet themselves.
Then, the pit of Ali's stomach turned into an amalgamation of fire and ice as she felt the whisper of a touch against her throat. She coughed slightly, unthinking for a moment before she realised what it was she was experiencing. Her mother, Myra, had taught her to recognise Force Users when they employed their abilities, and alarm bells were ringing all throughout Ali's conscious mind. Her free hand went to her throat, grasping at air, and the other released the crop. It tumbled over Tara's naked thigh and onto the floor. Ali herself began to panic, something she absolutely was not prone to do. Her lungs felt sluggish in her chest and her breathing had become a quiet wheeze. No one will even hear me die. She thought as she collapsed onto her knees at Tara's side, her eyes locking on to the younger woman's face with a fierce rage in them.
Forcing down her frantic urges in favor of well thought control, Ali reached for the near drawer and pulled from it a small black cylinder. With the press of a switch, a thin, durasteel blade shot out from it and locked into position. Ali lunged forward and brought the blade up against Tara's neck, holding it there until a thin line of red began to seep onto the metal. "Stop. Stop now." Ali demanded weakly, the suffocation clawing at the periphery of her vision. The experience was terrifying, true, but also was it arousing. For what reason, Ali had little idea, and at the moment didn't care to explore the details. She wanted to live, and if that meant Tara had to die, then so be it.
Moments passed, and the look on Tara's face never changed, not for an instant. Ali's emotional strength waned, though her physical struggle was not yet so dire. Even so, a growing part of her wanted to submit. Submit to what? Ali wondered vaguely. Her mind felt like muddied water, easy to travel through but difficult to see in. She had no idea where she was going, and by the time she realised she'd reached the point of giving in, it was too late for her to resist it. It was as if a new part of her had awoken, one that relished in the relinquishment of her freedom, freeing herself from choice itself. Ali herself often played switch for the women she slept with, though Tara's influence was reaching far beyond such a measure as Ali was familiar, or even comfortable, with. Yet now, all she wanted was to know what Tara wanted, and how best she could serve such a need. It was...terrifying, to see such a change in herself. The change itself, however, was addicting. Ali had never felt so aroused, so fulfilled, or so close to finally finding purpose. A moment of shame crossed her heart as she realised that her age and experience meant nothing in the face of a Force User. The thought spawned loathing in Ali, a deeply rooted hatred that coursed through the hearts of Mandalorians all across the Galaxy for the arrogance of such beings. I want her to own me, yet she has no right to do so. Tara had earned nothing in her life. She was young, arrogant, and her control over Ali borne solely of her unnatural gifts of manipulation to which people like Ali had limited defenses. In that moment before the sweetness of submission consumed her, Ali hated the girl.

The switchblade fell from her grip and onto the floor, and with shaking hands Ali loosened the binders around Tara's extremities. Her stomach was tight, she felt sick, and the invisible grip on her throat had yet to lessen. Will she kill me now? Ali wondered, sinking to her knees and staring down at the floor of her own home in an unfamiliar sense of defeat. A part of me hopes she does, Ali knew. What came next, she had no idea. But Ali swore to herself that the young woman would know a great deal of pain before the end. Ali sat on her heels, with her head turned off to the side; she couldn't bear the thought of looking upon those mirror images of her own eyes. Resting her hands atop her thighs, Ali heard herself mutter, without emotion, "What do you want of me?"

/ [member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira] \​

 

[Sitara Qin]

She coughed, falling to pieces at the edge of the couch. So when the tables are turned, little Ali doesn’t like it rough? She bit her lip, raising her chin a little bit as she heard the older woman panic. She was stumbling, overreacting to a little bit of choking. Ali wanted rough play, at least when playtime involved the older woman being on top. Sitara clicked her tongue, and the older woman coughed. Her grip was unwavering, just like the straps of leather Ali used to bind her wrists.

Was the woman ready to play another round of games?

She watched as the woman stumbled, fumbling through one of her drawers and reaching for an item. Was she still trying to assume control? After the literal hold Sitara had her in? It wasn’t likely. The older woman lunged for her neck, the blade pressing against her skin, slicing her. Stop now. Ali’s voice was a wheeze, and though the cut stung, it was nothing like the burns Ali had given her.

Her eyes momentarily shifted to the ceiling, though she still had the brunette in her peripheral vision. The look on Ali’s face was horror, though her senses were telling her otherwise. She laughed, silently. Maybe the older woman didn’t know what was happening to her; though in a few moments, she’d definitely find out otherwise.

Was Sitara cruel for doing this? Or was Ali just upset that she was being forced to switch. She had her little tricks, she had her moment with her candles and cigarettes; and though it was short lived, Sitara could tell the older woman had fun. She got her kicks, it was time to give Sitara hers. Even until now, Ali didn’t want to give up control. If only she could submit, submit to this beautiful pain she had been boasting about a few seconds prior.

With the blade still pressed against her neck, Sitara’s eyes focused on the identical ones on her partner’s beautiful, horror-stricken face. Cut me, Ali. Slice my throat. You want to. Her eyes would challenge the woman’s. I dare you. Ali had the upper hand she thought she wanted, but she couldn’t get her kicks to a submissive who did not want to submit.

But one of them was going to have to.

The knife dropped. And so did Ali’s gaze.

The leather and rope that had bound her to the couch fell loose, and Tara lingered there for a moment; merely laying in a trance. The woman had wandered over to the side; naked and humiliated. She wanted to laugh, she had dominated this woman without laying a finger into her. While they were playing on the beach Ali had never introduced this side of her to Tara. Was that her trap?

Or was this merely something she did in her private time?

There was something about Ali’s control that bothered her. Why did the older woman want it so much? What was so bad about simply submitting? Tara freed herself from the older woman’s chains. She sat up, only to find the older woman with her head dropped, her legs tucked beneath her.

She bit her lip. The ring of energy around the woman’s neck loosening, disappearing.

“Now you’re going to do as I say.” She said, crossing her legs over each other. She licked her lips, a small grin playing on her face. ‘Pain can be rewarding, Ali? Remember? All you have to do is submit to the suffering.’ The words would float into her mind, violating the depths of the most private sanctities she had once more.

‘Now get up, come over here and behave.’

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

Bindings struck ground, rope coiled as it felt.
Shame and humiliation embedded themselves in Ali's heart and mind.
She felt her cheeks redden as her throat relaxed and the tendrils of death retreated from her skin.

"Now you’re going to do as I say."
Tara's words were like a strike in the face, yet another thing Ali was unaccustomed to. Tonight's play time had started as it always had, with some liquor and smiles, kissing and touching. What it had quickly become, however, Ali had no idea. She kept her eyes on the floor, imagined she were scraping away at it with her fingernail, boring a hole, until she bled. Anything to distract herself from enduring the pain of her defeat. She was an owned woman now, whether she liked it or not, though a large part of her relished the thought. The younger woman sat upright, crossing one lithe, pale-skinned leg over the other. Tara looked...smug, victorious, and as if the burns on her breast and nipple meant nothing to her. I've been played, the thought came unbidden to her mind, though Ali knew it to be true.

Pain can be rewarding, Ali? Remember? All you have to do is submit to the suffering.
The words trailed into Ali's mind like a snake, as if all the locks in the world were naught but wind to Tara's strength. It was the mental invasion Ali hated. Subservience felt...good. Her thighs were warm, her nipples had hardened in excitement, and her lips remained parted to accommodate her elevated breathing. Parts of her wanted to kiss Tara's feet and wash her genitals with her tongue, always be there to service her every whim. The thought was exciting, and Ali had never felt more aroused.
But each time Tara forced herself on Ali, she felt as if her mind were being pierced with an arrow, while she lay helplessly bound and gagged, unable to defend herself. And yet she couldn't force the words out; once she had submitted, Tara's entrance to her mind had been granted in full. She could go wherever she wanted, do what ever she pleased, and Ali could do absolutely nothing to stop her but beg.
"Please..." Ali murmured. "Please...no." Tears welled in Ali's eyes and dripped from her lids onto her cheeks and breasts. She left her head to hang, her hands folded neatly in her lap, the words barely escaping her lips.

Now get up, come over here and behave.
There it was again, the voices in her mind, reminding her she had no control, that her mind and body were not hers to own. You are what she makes you now, Ali thought in defeated, her heart breaking for herself. Even as she hated Tara for it, Ali found herself pushing herself up onto her knees and planting her palms firmly on the hardwood floor. She looked up at Tara with a set jaw and eyes of fire and crawled sultrily forward to where the woman sat. Ali sat back down on her heels with her legs open and her hands pressed against the floor before her, white-knuckled as she wrung them together, this the only outward expression of her rage she dare allow herself.

Do what you will with me, Ali thought bitterly, looking up at her new mistress with hateful eyes before bowing her head. She pushed her thoughts outward, refusing to speak for Tara; if there were to be conversations in her head, Ali would not remain silent.

​

/ [member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira] \​

Spoiler: Accompaniment

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IGzJFJRkmCE

​

 

[Sitara Qin]

It was almost pathetic. To see a woman—a woman who prided herself with control, with dominance—fallen. Her head was kept low, almost as though she was bowing. Sitara licked her lips, her own fingers running through her thighs, her abdomen. She brushed off the remnants of the cigarette, her index finger pressing on the burn that Ali had left.

It was still fresh, the pain was still raw. She’d need water for that later; though the sensation thrilled her. The wax had hardened on her skin, leaving little pale coloured trails along her abdomen. It cracked as she moved and she had the urge to peel it off. She wanted to rid her body of the older woman’s short lived dominance; and yet, she was reluctant to.

These served as inspiration to her; almost a warning that reminded her why Ali needed to be controlled. The older woman had treated her like a mere slave, treating Sitara as though they were equals and then stripping her of that privilege. She didn’t know, Sitara reminded herself. And yet, once Ali realized it, she still tried to force her into submission.

Sitara understood what it meant to force someone out of control. She gave in when she was on the losing end; though at this point, Ali just couldn’t win. Looking at her now, with her legs spread apart and her eyes refusing to watch herself submit, Sitara couldn’t be more aroused. Was it sick that she was feeling these emotions?

They were all born sick.

The Jedi thought they had perfect control over their emotions. It was why they restrained themselves from the simple pleasures of life. Ali thought that she exercised control over her own life as well, though easily lost the control she had on herself, on reality. Was that why she was so quick to fight back? Sitara did not know.

Her touch was gentle, though swift. She squeezed the woman’s jaw with her thumb and forefinger. Those eyes…Ali’s eyes that mirrored hers. It was that she wanted to see. “Look at me, Ali.” Her voice was strong, though low enough to be perceived as a whisper. Once the woman’s eyes would meet her’s, Sitara would smile, her tongue tasting the woman’s pale face.

It would slither to the woman’s ear; she’d inhale the woman’s scent for a moment, taking the time to memorize her. ‘Don’t worry Ali, after all, you like to play games, right?’ Sitara would taunt, her teeth pressing into the woman’s earlobe, tugging at it softly. 'Like fire, right Ali? You enjoy that, don't you?’

A flame would burst from the forefinger on Sitara’s other hand.

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

"Look at me, Ali." Finally, words spoken by lips rather than forced into her mind. Ali's heart softened somewhat and her back relaxed; she only now realised how sore she was beginning to feel, weighed down emotionally as she was. Her breathing was shallow and ragged, Ali couldn't remember ever feeling this stressed and beaten down. Because you've never been beaten down before, she thought bitterly. An instant passed where all Ali wanted was to dig her thumbs into Tara's eye sockets and destroy them. There will never be another pair like mine, Ali vowed. But the moment passed, and she heard Tara's demand ringing again like a bell in her memory. Look at me, Ali. She was drawn to the woman, shackled to her in a way Ali didn't fully understand. She knew it had something to do with the woman's Force abilities, though Ali wasn't experiencing any overt signs of control she'd been taught to be on the look out for. There's no way she's that powerful, she's too young. It was an assessment Ali wasn't entirely confident in, her work as an intelligence officer had awarded her information on plenty a powerful young Force User. Tara almost wasn't special, but a norm when it came to the One Sith. How the Jedi had survived this long eluded Ali.
The twisted knot in Ali's stomach tightened as Tara grasped her jaw and lifted her head, though Ali kept her eyes level with Tara's thighs. Those pale, soft thighs...Ali remembered kissing and licking them on the beach just hours before. From there she had tasted Tara's lips with her own, suckled them, fingered them, enjoyed them. She'd watched the young woman's breasts heave as she bit back moans knowing their place on the beachhead was not as secluded as she might have liked. The memory provided Ali with a renewed sense of strength and she lifted her eyes to her emotional captor's. Blue-gray struck against blue-gray defiantly in a statement that said, I am yours because I allow it.

​

Ali was quickly reminded rather shamefully of how untrue this likely was. Tara opened her mouth and licked Ali's face with the flat of her wet, pink tongue, a tongue that had, just hours earlier, tasted her own cleft and brought her to a sweet, calm climax. She felt the tip of Tara's tongue climb into her ear and heard the whisper of her breath as she took in Ali's scent. Ali's lip curled slightly with revulsion, though she could almost feel the wetting of her own lips with desire. Her cleft was soaking, and Ali felt an insatiable need to be fulfilled by her mistress. And then her desire was quenched like a flame dowsed with a bucket of water as Tara invaded her mind once more.
Don’t worry Ali, after all, you like to play games, right? Ali squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw, trying with all her might to banish the voices from her head. She had never felt so dishonored and violated in all her life and she felt a grave amount of shame for allowing Tara to succeed, for being too weak to refuse her brute mental strength. This is what Sith do, Ali reminded herself sadly. She felt violated and soiled, and a part of her wanted to die for it.
She almost didn't feel Tara's teeth tugging on her ear, and if she did it was known only by a small portion of her mind. But the following words stabbed into her like a knife, hot and rusted, with notched edges that cut and sawed rough wounds in her soul. "Please, Tara, no...no games..." Ali pleaded, tears leaking from her eyes. An overwhelming sadness mingled with the fear and self-loathing that Tara was inspiring with her, and she began to sob. Her shoulders shook and her head fell from Tara's grip, and for one sweet, blissful moment the curtain of her chocolate brown locks hid her from view of the monster that owned her. "Please...I beg you...free me..." She sobbed meekly, hugging her hands to her breasts and shaking in strained silence between her meager cries.
When the voice came, Ali felt the knife twisting inside her, and she moaned painfully. Like fire, right Ali? You enjoy that, don't you? Tara looked down at her hauntingly, smugly; it was a face Ali wanted to strike with a club and beat until dead. Her anger was washed away the instant the young woman snapped her fingers at Ali; a flame sparked to life that caused her to jump like a scared animal. Ali cried softly in surprise, her shock bringing her several inches away from her mistress. Like a well-trained queen, Ali returned to her place immediately, regardless of how insubstantial her relocation had been. The reaction caused Ali to hate herself even more due to the fact that it had been so natural. I'm nothing but an owned queen. I don't deserve free will. I was made for servitude.
What hurt even worse than her own thoughts was the unwavering desire she had for Tara's touch, her approval, to see her will be done. I want to be collared to this woman, Ali realised, and hated herself bitterly for it. "Take what you want from me," Ali relinquished numbly, leaving her heart to her rampant desires, and her body to the woman who would use it for her own.

/ [member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira] \​

 

[Sitara Qin]

The woman was begging for her life; cowering like a tamed dog. Her eyes, the eyes that mirrored hers, looked at her with fear and anticipation. It made Sitara go wild; never before had she seen this look cast upon her by another woman. It was an expression that only a few minutes ago, Sitara would have never imagined for Ali to have.

But she had to know that it was possible.

Because if Ali was truly unconquerable, she wouldn’t have put up such a weak fight. The older woman was blinded by fear and the stereotypical identity of who a sith was. Was Sitara truly a dark side user if she had the best of intentions? She was bitter to admit that she was selfish, and only used her powers for her personal greed and wellbeing. The woman’s lobe was still captured between her teeth, and she bit down harder.

Ali was just as selfish; taking control when she believed she had the upper hand. Sitara knew that her reasons were justified, knew that Ali deserved this. The older woman wanted it, despite the words that were escaping her lips. Her attempts to be freed were pathetic, like an animal who learned helplessness.

She could sense the desire in Ali’s scared eyes, the way her lips trembled. The older woman’s body was wanting something more. Her hands scoured the older woman’s body, her unlit fingers lightly caressing Ali’s sides and pudenda. Her body was calling to her; telling Sitara to take her as she was.

“Take what you want from me.”

She stood up, the fingers on her right hand still aflame. With her left, she waved, and the older woman would be slammed into the wall. She was pinned there, her arms pressed above her pretty little head. Sitara would approach her, her long legs powerfully striking the floor beneath her. The expression on Ali’s face was one to be savoured. With another wave of her hand, Ali’s head would be pressed against the wall, giving Sitara a seductive view of her pale neck.

Her lit hand would star to draw circles from the older woman’s neck, crawling down towards her stomach. The fire was close enough to glaze her skin, though not physically burn her yet. Her free hand would pull on Ali’s brown locks, and her lips would graze against the woman’s neck.

‘You’re mine for tonight, Ali.’ The words would float into the older woman’s mind, taunting her. ‘How does it feel being mine?’ Her hot fingers would then grip Ali’s sides for a second, burning her skin before she pulled away.

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

Ali sighed lightly as Tara's bare hands laid themselves upon her. She relished in the touch of her mistress on her sides, rubbing the wet lips between her legs. She felt the sensation of Tara's fingertips caress her sex, sliding easily between her lips and causing pleasure to erupt and emanate throughout her thighs and stomach. She wanted her mistress's fingers inside her, she wanted to pleasure the woman in return for the sweet release of climax Ali was about to enjoy. She whimpered, biting her lip to quell the noise as her body screamed and her climax drew nearer.
Suddenly, her shoulders shaking with the coming release, Ali felt the control leave her body as it was drawn into the air and thrown against the far wall of her own home by an invisible force. She cried out audibly as her back struck solid wroshyyr wood, flashes of pain lancing from her bottom to her neck. Ali could feel her arms held over her head and a sense of helplessness so deep she hadn't known to expect it forced itself upon her in the form of Tara's wicked sense of cruelty. For cruel is what it was, in Ali's mind. Her burning of Tara's breast had been of the girl's own choosing, had she relinquished control and quelled her own defiant nature, Ali would have had the opportunity to punish her in other ways. A simple spanking, more wax play, these were easy things that were playful in nature. But Tara had caused something to come over Ali so powerfully she'd thrown herself into the situation in which she was currently struggling to escape.
Tara teased Ali's skin with the threat of fire, her flame-ladden fingers caressing her body with the kiss of their warmth. She whimpered quietly, closing her eyes for moments at a time to hide herself from the reality of her affairs. You’re mine for tonight, Ali. The young woman's words pervaded Ali's mind like a sickness, and she could sense the sickness in them. It's the same sickness inside myself, she thought, hating herself for finding excuses for her mistress's behavior. Tara had given herself over willing at first, Ali had been taken by force. Her arousal was real, but so was her fear and pain.
How does it feel being mine? The thought came like an army violating the lands of her mind. Ali answered immediately and without question. "It feels good, mistress." Ali moaned, the heat of Tara's flame increasing as the young woman clasped her hands against Ali's sides. She felt her soft, pale flesh burn, pain erupting along her body's external surface and burrowing itself deep into her sides. As quickly as it had come the pain was gone and Ali was left against the wall, releasing an unwittingly held breath. She heaved and cried, pain scoring the surface of her skin as two hand prints began to appear as a raised redness on her porcelain body, welts that would remind her for days of Tara's complete dominance of her, and Ali's willing enslavement.

/ [member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira] \​

 

[Sitara Qin]

The woman’s cries were like symphonies playing in Tara’s ears. She pulled away, taking a step back to memorize the older woman’s current state. The picture burned in the back of her mind and Tara almost wished she could take a hologram just to keep this moment with her forever.

The flame disappeared from her hand, and she wiped away the small tears forming in the corners of Ali’s eyes. She was making this strong, powerful woman from the republic, cower in her presence. It was erotic, it was hot, it made her skin tingle. She wanted to have this moment etched into Ali’s mind forever; and perhaps, if all things go well, they’d meet sometime soon in the future.

Her hands had left fiery burns in the woman’s perfect skin. She moved towards her, leaving small kisses on the woman’s sides, her lips moving closer and closer to the woman’s lower abdomen. She licked her stomach, trailing all the way up To Ali’s chin, before stopping over the woman’s rouged lips.

Her hands would emit fire from them again, as she grabbed the older woman’s waist before pulling her in for a rough kiss. Her teeth would sink into Ali’s bottom lip, ripping the skin from them enough to make her bleed. It was like rust, iron melting into the tip of her tongue. She licked at the wound, her eyes staring into the older woman’s.

“I want you to remember this moment for everything it is, Ali.” Sitara would say, as her hands would lightly glaze the ample woman’s mounds, warming her already hot flesh. “I want you to feel every sensation, with no distractions.” Her other hand would move south, the fire hovering over the woman’s naked flesh.

She’d channel something else into the woman’s mind. Was it an illusion? Was it something else? All Ali would see was a wave of black, creeping in from the sides. Tara’s face would be a blur, not long before the entire room seemed to be void of any light. Sitara would smile, pressing her tongue against the older woman’s face once more.

'Lights out, Ali.'

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

Pain and fear were washed away with the tears Tara brushed from Ali's cheeks and eyes. Tara's seductive look and behavior won Ali over once again as feelings of pleasure began to build inside her lower abdomen. Tara ran her tongue upward along Ali's skin, dipping gently into her navel and traveling between her breasts before the young woman brought her lips to Ali's own once more. Ali, still unable to move, began to feel as if she didn't want to. She moaned softly into her mistress's parted lips, into her mouth. Tara would feel the warmth of Ali's liquor-tinged breath on her tongue.
Her pleasure became ringed with sharp pain as Tara bit into her lip and tore at it, splitting her flesh. Her lip leaked blood but Ali could feel the cut felt worse than it actually was. Even so, her lip bled profusely for several moments before trickling down, blood stained her chin and several spots of it dove onto her left breast. The same breast of Tara's I marred with a cigarette, Ali thought regrettably. But even so a part of her rejoiced, for without that act to instigate Tara's aggression, Ali would not have been made her property.
Tara licked Ali's lip, and she sucked in her breath as sharp pain sprung from the dull ache before vanishing. Ali smiled and sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, taking the blood from it and sighing softly. Her smile only served to increase the pain of her cut, and she relished in it.
"I want you to remember this moment for everything it is, Ali." Tara muttered. Ali pursed her lips and nodded desperately. She looked down and watched her lover's hands grasp her breasts, massaging them, toying with them, warming them. Ali wanted her mistress's mouth on her nipples so badly she whimpered at the thought. "I want you to feel every sensation, with no distractions." Tara continued, removing one hand to her slit. Ali could feel the heat of it over her, and her lips moistened pleasantly. "Nnnnplease," Ali sighed, wishing Tara would release her so she could struggle to control herself instead of having it be done for her.
Her fear heightened immensely for a moment as the corners of Ali's eyes began to darken and her vision fade. A panic rose inside her and her breathing quickened, her breasts heaving with every deep breath. Her vision vanished and the world went dark, and she felt the stabbing of words being force fed into her mind once more. But rather than the words cause her pain, they soothed her reaction to the darkness. Lights out, Ali.
It's a blindfold, Ali realised. A blindfold without a blindfold. Ali told herself teasingly. A giggle rose inside her but she quenched it, instead enjoying Tara's tongue running along her face once again. "More," Ali begged, her voice naught but a whisper. She was almost afraid to advocate for herself, she didn't yet truly know Tara as a mistress, and parts of her were scared. "Please more? I want more, I want to feel good." Ali pleaded, her lips mumbling her needs. In a sick thirst Ali told Tara everything she wanted to have done to her, and to do in return. She let her fantasies and desires tumble from her split lip like a dam bursting, and she smiled through every moment of this sweet release.

/ [member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira] \​

 

[Sitara Qin]

The older woman’s words wove into her like an enchantment. Ali was begging her for more; she wanted to feel good, she wanted to be humiliated by Sitara. It was all a beautiful sight to her: Ali was completely helpless, pinned to the wall with Sitara’s mind. Ali was unclothed, her pale skin scarred and painted with Sitara’s fingerprints. Her dark hair fell into sweet tangles, and tumbled over her shoulders.

It was as though Ali was her own personal sacrifice; she was as sweet as fresh fruit picked from the most lavish of trees. Ali offered herself to her, in the form of tainted flesh and blood. She was so beautiful and Sitara loved everything about her; from her similar blue-grey eyes that looked at her with fear and desire, to her lips that quivered and whispered soft words into Sitara’s ears.

It was the perfect combination of pain and pleasure, and Ali was right about submitting to it. Her little speech on submitting to the pain was not meant for Sitara’s ears, but were rather for herself. Tara drank up everything about the woman; from her tousled hair to her scarred curves and thought about how just a few moments earlier, Ali was composed and in control. Despite Ali’s previous hesitation, Sitara could only assume she was fighting a battle with herself. She had called out a different Ali; an Ali that didn’t mind being blinded and tied up.

More.

The words repeated themselves in Tara’s mind. Her lips found themselves on the older woman’s, begging for entrance. ‘If you want more, Ali. I’ll give you more.’ Ali was right about one thing; Sitara was like lightning and she wanted to show Ali just how electric she could be. Her fingers found themselves searching through moist territory before venturing into the older woman.

Her lips would leave Ali’s and Sitara would channel her own energy within her. It would swirl from her body, travelling through her spine, and into fingers. The lightning was a small burst, a tiny ray of light dancing through her body like a serpent readying itself to be liberated.

It would escape Sitara’s fingers and jump into the older woman’s body.

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

Ali gave no thought to giving her mistress the entrance she wanted into her mouth. Ali opened her lips and accepted the young woman's tongue, feeling the supple softness of her lips as they crashed together in an orchestra that played only in their own minds and hearts. If you want more, Ali. I’ll give you more. Came the words again, harsh and painful; Ali's soul rejected such control but she was forced, utterly, to take it. Her entire world began to shrink as Tara entered her with an invisible touch. Not like the touch of their minds, but a physical touch simply gone unseen in Ali's blindness. Her skin was scattered with handprints and markings, pinkish raised welts that would heal over a number of days. The discomfort they would bring her during the course of their healing would serve as a sweet reminder of her mistress's treatment of her, and suddenly with that thought Ali wondered what had happened to her. The euphoria she felt betwixt her legs was a blessing, Tara's fingers filled her innards and caressed her pudenda, and Ali began feeling bought and paid for. Such is the life of a slave, the traitor in Ali reminded herself. For a moment she remembered Fedrig, the slave soldier she'd fought to free on Tatooine. She wondered where he was, and whether he was enjoying his freedom.
It was then that the shocks struck her lips, causing her thighs to tense and her legs to jump. She cried out, half pain and half pleasure, before relaxing again, a sudden tiredness coming over her. Her energy was replenished by Tara's continued manipulation of her intimacies, waves of warmth and acceptance and love building in her abdomen and causing her to burn and sweat with pleasure. Ali moaned, a sudden desire to be bound coming over her. "Please, mistress," she whimpered, forcing her eyes open and turning blindly in the assumed direction of the woman who'd taken her. "I'll do whatever you want, please." What Ali wanted, what she needed, was climax. But she couldn't simply go about giving it to herself. Only Tara could give it to her, for the younger woman was the gateway to her satisfaction. Such was the privilege of the girl's position. Part of Ali wondered if she was truly ready for what it meant to own another person.

/ [member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira] \​

 

[Sitara Qin]

Sitara understood that by taking the woman’s vision, every sensation she would feel would be heightened. They both had gone through so much—and not just because they actively brought pain to the other person—but because that was how life was meant to be lived.

You can never escape.

Never escape.

Though through Ali’s body, she found freedom.

Perhaps it was why she constantly found herself in this position. Always playing this game with different people. Her fingers were hidden, her other hand slammed into the woman’s left side. If Ali could only see, Tara’s eyes would be locked into hers, burning with fierce desire. She found comfort in this act, found solace in Ali’s parted lips.

Being vulnerable with others kept her emotions sheltered.

There truly was no love in her game, but Tara loved finding herself performing these acts over and over again. Ali was her beautiful actress and Tara was the writer. She was a cruel writer; punishing the people in her little performance.

The next wave of electricity would be more powerful; and as Sitara slammed her palm into Ali’s left side, she inhaled; taking in Ali’s womanly scents. She was sweating, her body moist with her own bodily fluid. Sitara sent the next wave into the woman, grabbing onto her thigh and clutching at her skin.

‘Yes you will. You’re a good one, aren’t you Ali?’ The words cooed into the older woman’s mind.

‘Tell me who you are’ Ali’s words echoed into her mind. Sitara forced back a chuckle at the memory. Was this how she reacted to interrogation? There wasn’t much Ali knew about her; yet here she was taking control of the situation. Was this because she was hesitant, scared of opening herself up?

Ali had stopped asking questions, after all.

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

You can never escape. Tara's words came filtering unbidden into Ali's mind, without pain this time, and unbeknownst to even their owner. The girl must have been losing her concentration and letting her thoughts escape her, for not even Ali knew the thoughts were not meant for her to know. And so she let her body react for her, pressing against the invisible restraints that held her to the wall, pressing her pelvis forward and her intimacies deeper onto Tara's searching digits.
I don't want to escape, Ali let her mind reply to Tara's unspoken words. I want you to keep me.

Tara's expressions of power were intense electric shocks to her intimacies. Her lips burned and trembled, soaking Tara's fingers. Ali's moans reverberated throughout the room, loud and unfettered by fear or repression. She let herself enjoy her mistress's touch without reservation, quickly learning to love the force Tara relished unleashing upon her. Her lover's hand gripped her thigh, burning her softly as another shock rent her groin's sensitivities and brought her closer to that sweet, sexual release. You’re a good one, aren’t you Ali? Tara asked, their minds melting into one during those moments the younger woman violated her slave. Ali merely bit her blooded lip and nodded, moaning and whimpering pathetically. As the wave of pleasure began to plateau, bringing her ever closer, she spoke in a broken, halting moan. "Yes...I...want to...be, for...you." Ali's eyes, despite being unable to see, squeezed shut and she gritted her teeth, her moment was near, building, building, like a rising tide it swelled inside her loins, which she ground against her lover's fist. "Please...May I?" Ali begged, knowing that to allow herself to fall over that cliff of release would be an affront to her owner's authority. "Please, I'm ready...I want to...so...badly..."

/ [member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira] \​

 

[Sitara Qin]

“Please…May I?”

The question alone was innocent; as innocent as they were earlier in the day. Tara could still remember the rough texture of Ali’s tongue running down her body. She recalled Ali’s beautiful hands, her lithe fingers touching her gently earlier in the day. The experience of being with a woman was new for her, and so was taking Ali the way she was now. Sitara’s lips gently kissed her forehead, her thoughts wondering elsewhere.

“Please, I’m ready…I want to…so…badly…”

Her fingers gripped Ali’s side tightly, her nails digging into her soft burnt skin. She could feel the woman building up, her body reacting to the pleasure and pain Sitara was giving her. She needed to release her; but Ali wanted a physical release. Could Sitara leave her like this? Tied up, humiliated, and tired?

She took a step back from the older woman, though the ghost of her was still there caressing her in Ali’s mind.

She needed to leave this woman with something more.

‘You’ll have your release in a few moments Ali.’

The older woman’s mind would feel things as they were, though the sensations…the pleasure she was holding onto would be heightened, even without Sitara’s physical presence. She searched through Ali’s kitchen and found a small pad of paper; something Ali probably used to write a grocery list.

Now all she needed was a pen.

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

Ali bit down on her lip as Sitara's fingers left her. She felt suddenly empty, and her need, her drive, exacerbated itself ten fold. "No, please..." Ali moaned her begging as the sensation lessened and Sitara seemed to disappear from her presence. Ali remained there, turning her head and looking about as her cleft began to quiet. "Nooo..." Ali sighed, though her sensations were soon replaced with an explosion of feeling within her own mind. It was invasive, violating, to be manipulated this way, but the pleasure it brought her body negated the detriment of its source. Ali's moans were refreshed as her mistress tortured her mind with the hot sensations produced within her nethers. "I'm...going...to..." Ali's voice trailed off as she tried to withhold, but her body was out of her control now. She began to teeter on the cusp of the crevasse, and within moments would be thrown over its edge.

/ [member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira] \​

 

[Sitara Qin]

She found herself scribbling a list of things on the counter. Her mind was still locked to Ali’s. it was a connection between them; and though it was simply for this moment of bliss, Tara was glad that they shared a bond she could feel for this instance. It was too bad this couldn’t last between them. Ali was her’s, but she also belonged to the republic. She simply couldn’t kidnap the girl, throw her over to the One Sith and hope she’d convert.

But she had to leave a piece of herself, something that would bond the two for a little longer.

She finished scribbling, and brought the list over to the woman. Her body was trembling, convulsing like she had just been shot with lightning. Tara’s mind was brushed over hers, overpowering her senses.

It would be cruel to only let her reach this height once after all.

“Allow yourself this taste of release, Ali.”

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

What Ali felt when she had finally secured her mistress' permission inundated her mind and body as the flood-gates of her climax washed over her. Every cell in her body seemed to be cleansed by the lustful fire; a long guttural moan was rendered from her throat, and she shook and convulsed. Her back arched and her hands clenched; Ali bit her bottom lip so hard her wound bled anew. Ali felt for a brief moment as if she no longer had a mind as only her mistress' allowance of her climax filled her. "Thhhhank...you..." Ali sighed, her blind eyes blinking almost drunkenly. She was thrown into a sex-induced stupor, her orgasm fading whilst her cleft remained pounding and sensitive. Her head drooped and her chin rested against her chest, and while her body remained pinned to the wall by invisible hands, Ali's entire body slumped laxly.

/ [member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira] \​

 

[Sitara Qin]

1. First and foremost You are Mine.

The woman was left in a daze. Sitara could only imagine the kind of wonders that did for her. She smiled, resting herself on Ali’s couch as she simply watched her. She was a lovely specimen in this position, much lovelier than she had been when Sitara first met her. Ali’s body was bare, her dark hair tousled over her pale shoulders. Her eyes that were so similar were staring blankly at her, before her whole head drooped limply.

2. All Physical Evidence of our little relationship, will be kept in secrecy.

“I wish I could take you with me Ali.” And she really did, but she feared the Republic would come looking for their little finance worker. She moved over to her, her fingers lifting up her pale skin and planting a soft kiss on the older woman’s rouged lips.

3. You are readily available to me. Anytime, anywhere.

“I’d really love to stay till morning.” It came as an almost inaudible murmur. She wanted to stay, she wanted to continue playing with the beautiful woman, but with the state she was in, she needed to recover and she couldn’t afford anyone from the republic coming in to check on them.

4. You agree to submit to me, in all ways.

“You’re going to go to bed now, Ali.” Sitara whispered, stroking the woman’s cheek. She was probably tired, and Sitara didn’t mind tucking her into bed. She moved over to the corridor, opening each door until she spotted a bed. Once found, Ali’s body would leave the wall, peeling her off like a sticker. It took a lot of effort to have her float into her bedroom.

5. Keep wearing that lipstick. I love it on you.

She’d sneak over to Ali’s drawer, searching for something to keep for herself. She could always use the one outside, but perhaps Ali would like to keep both of theirs as a pair. It was something for her to remember after all. She found a nice dark thong and giggled. She moved over to the woman resting on her bed and proceeded to give her a loving kiss on the forehead. Any influence of the force Sitara had over the woman would disappear.

6. Kashyyyk is ours. We’ll meet again and next time, we will play pazaak. We’ll have more fun when you lose.

She went back to the living room, collected her clothes and dressed up. She needed a shower and a ride out of her. Ali might try to look for her, but she didn’t even know the girl’s full name. They were going to meet again, Sitara was sure of it. Maybe sometime soon, she hoped.

7. The Republic would kill to know that you’ve been such a bad girl. I’ll take you with me one day, you belong with us.

She made sure to lock the door on her way out. The note would taped on the table in front of the couch. A small cup of caf would sit on top of it, acting as a paper weight.

Love,
Tara

 

[Ali Hadrix]

When Ali woke, it was in one of the guest bedrooms that branched off of the corridor. Tara apparently hadn't found Ali's personal chambers, which sat well with her. She could have done anything to me in that room, Ali thought bitterly, it contained her collection of personal toys and equipment. Her head was sore, pounding, and she rested it against her head as she sat herself upright in bed. The pain intensified and Ali stumbled her way to the bathroom for pain relievers and a glass of water. What happened last night? Ali asked herself, her stomach roiling from the night's liquor. She couldn't remember the last time she'd reacted so poorly to drinking.
After finishing a second glass of water, Ali looked down at herself. Speckles of red wax were spattered across her thighs, they obviously hadn't been used on her. Her throat hurt somewhat, and when she looked in the mirror in the hallway she saw a slight red ring wrapping around her neck. Ali swallowed, suddenly frightened as the night's memories came back to her in a rush of emotion and excitement. She gasped as she felt the rush in her loins, and pressing herself against the wall, Ali covered her sex and mouth with her hands. "Tara..." Ali groaned, remembering the burnt flesh of the young woman's breast and nipple, the restraints that hadn't lasted more than a minute, and Ali's own submission to a girl half her age.
"What have I done?" Ali begged of herself aloud, unable to answer such a question. She looked over to the couch in the living room and spotted a flimsi note resting beneath a cup of hot caf. She just left, Ali realised, glancing back toward the front door. It was shut, and locked. Ali knew if she opened it to look there would be no one there, so she didn't bother. Ali's personal confession for her desire to be owned had come at a shock to her the night before, and was doubly shocking now. Ali did not pledge herself to others, she convinced them to pledge themselves to her. "Apparently not..." Ali muttered, walking over to the couch and sitting down. She reached for the caf and sipped at it, then picked up the note and began reading. As she did so, Ali began feeling the familiar mixture of self-loathing, disgust, desire and arousal growing inside her. She covered her naked body with the blanket hanging over the back of the couch and reread the note several times, her heart pounding. It was as if magic rested in every word Tara had written, for she felt doubly enslaved in this very moment, merely reading her note.

1. First and foremost You are Mine.

"Take what you want from me..." Ali heard the words again, spoken in submission to her new mistress as she rested on her knees on the floor before the young woman, her head bowed, and her sex on fire.

2. All Physical Evidence of our little relationship, will be kept in secrecy.

I'll keep you secret, mistress. Was the first thought Ali had. It came unbidden to her mind and she felt disgusted for it.

3. You are readily available to me. Anytime, anywhere.

"Yes, of course mistress." Ali heard herself speak. Her mind froze in surprise at herself, though the desire between her legs was growing at the very thought. "I want you to take me," Ali said into the air, hoping her mistress was hearing her. She imagined being taken and used in public places

4. You agree to submit to me, in all ways.

"Yes, please," Ali sighed, her eyes closing briefly as the desire in her sex intensified. She imagined herself doing for Tara what she'd had women do for her. She wanted to let Tara take her, fill her, slap her, choke her. She wanted to be bound and gagged and she wanted to beg Tara to let her climax, and then thank her pathetically for each orgasm.

5. Keep wearing that lipstick. I love it on you.

"I promise, mistress." Ali murmured. It wasn't until now she realised she'd run the fingers of her free hand between her legs, and was caressing and rubbing herself pleasurably. Ali bit her bottom lip and sighed, then continued reading.

6. Kashyyyk is ours. We’ll meet again and next time, we will play pazaak. We’ll have more fun when you lose.

I will make my home, your home, mistress. Ali thought joyfully. "I want to lose to you, mistress." Ali whispered lustfully, her self-stimulation intensifying. Because when I lose, I know I'll win. Ali thought deviously.

7. The Republic would kill to know that you’ve been such a bad girl. I’ll take you with me one day, you belong with us.

"I want to go with you," Ali moaned loudly, and it was true. For a brief moment, Ali felt shackled by the Republic and the structure of her community that was necessary for its survival. She wanted every day to be like last night, every moment to be a desperate climb toward the summit of satisfaction. She wanted to lick Tara's boot heels and call it a meal, she wanted to live at her mistress's behest or not at all. But what about Têhra, a part of Ali asked. The girl was frail, waifish, and in desperate need of an owner. Ali couldn't abandon her to the Duch'a, Zihanna Syle'a. And she wouldn't. I must be both a master and a slave, Ali realised as she reached the apogee of her climax.

/ [member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira] \​