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A Zabrak's Mate (Sanoci and Dreamgirl)

D

dreamgirl

Planetoid
Joined
Oct 23, 2015
It had all been a mistake...

Cheyenne wasn't quite certain just where everything had gone wrong and was still trying to figure out where her miscalculation was. The Jedi wasn't used to failure, only victory or standstills. She was caught off guard by the fact that she was about to lose, her allies were falling one by one. She had given the signal to retreat back where they had gone, but mines went off, destroying her back line as well. She kept trying to think of other paths out, to bring some sort of victory to the Rebels, to save her comrades! Another blaster fire whizzed by her and she heard the cry of a man fall to the ground, dead.

This wasn't how it was supposed to turn out.

They encircled her, believing that they could kill her with numbers, she would prove them wrong. She began slicing through their numbers, their army back pedalling. Maybe there would be a victory in this, if only Cheyenne could get out.

Before she could even try to though, the ground shifted from under her unexpectedly and she began to drop. The army stopped firing upon her the moment that it shifted, and that was when Cheyenne suddenly realized what her miscalculation was. It had been her. The army hadn't been put there to kill her Military, they had been there to capture her. It was obvious now since she had fallen for the trap, cut down their pawns, only for them to lead her right into the falling ground and them abruptly stop firing. Who's commands were these though? Who had outsmarted her? A General of the Rebellion who's prestige was renowned through the galaxy...

That was it again, she miscalculated herself. She had made her presence known, wanting to mark her victories and take her claim for her wins. It rallied troops around her, but it also held grudges and enemies against her. They knew of her at that point. She had been the mistake.

She dropped with a crouch, turning to the presence that she sensed. Deep blue eyes that looked almost green glared in the shadows though she couldn't see. This was the one, he had been the one that had calculated for her to be arrogant enough to keep fighting in the battles, to take arms in the front line even though her presence was well known through the Empire as the Jedi scum that gave them trouble.

Lights slowly flicked on, first at her feet and then steadily moving towards the other person in the room. She had been right about her assumption of it being a man - he had been waiting for her. His head was bowed so she could only see the crown of horns upon his head. But as he rose to look at her, smirk at his victory of trapping the Jedi, she could feel the dark side radiating from him. He had been able to cloak himself? Most impressive. Cheyenne sort of recognized him, he had been one of the few that she had tarnished the Empire's plans for.

Glaring at him, she ignited her lightsaber and took her stance - she wasn't going down easy if he was going to fight fair.
 
RE: A Zabrak's Mate

Coerced in failures of the fleeting past only spiraling indirectly into erupting racially a Zabrak's known self-assuredness; prompting a berserker physiology oozing complete animalistic fury. Drakron held prestige amongst the elite of the Empire, forgoing the christening names sith are accustomed towards seizing after the metamorphism. Attunement over one's mental attributes paralleling to the traits strengthening this beast by raw emotion. Deep immersion to the gifts of the dark side were symbolized immeasurably by the trademark corruption of luminous, sulfuric yellow hues tracing over the form of his Jedi prey. A Zabrak nightbrother held no contempt, only acclamation for his origins despite feelings he was taken as some exotic barbarian warrior-slave for the Emperor himself. Neglecting repressed opinions, a barbarous grin psyched for glorious combat listening to the wailing and screams of dead rebels by the cumulative streams of red lasers emitting from E-11 blaster rifles the Stormtroopers fired with reckless abandon.

Witnessing the vulnerable surface rattled, he patiently though expressing an virtue even partially associated for placid action was an unfortunate forgery of his intentions for his prey. A stratagem befitting for a formidable force sensitive as herself, Drakron kept his blood lust famished when such subtleties became significant, though to the rebel's fortunes he relied on his own skills versus larger scale skirmishes with complexities involved. An abundance of capable combatants from both sides of the conflict never beheld a specimen of his stature, towering warriors with an staggering height of seven feet tall with protruding obsidian colored horns fashioned like a crown secured over the dark brown complexion harmonizing with the motif of sheer terror masked with blackened tribal tattoos of the planet Dathomir amplified further by highlighting the tattoos with red scarfication marks adorned in his perverse version of glory and perhaps a hint of masochism. Shirtless with armor allocating near the Cestus like gloves, bracers, even braces near the dark cloth of his pants, he represented the martial warrior of the ancient times.

" DDecided running not worth dead comrades? "

The dilact was chalky in pronouncing words within the confines of comprehend, utilizing the most prevalent of languages known as basic or galactic standard. Brawny, infused by the passion of a challenge and other horrific imagery amassed in the horned skull of this venomous creature of importance to his military. Cheyenne's lightsaber once conjured painted vivid supposition over the details of past battles. A lightsaber burned marked the left corner of his face where eyebrows would be positioned should his species really bore hair, another greeting flesh through the bicep and an invisible one cloaked by clothing through the right upper thigh. Anxious to test her fighting prowess after an extended vacation away from each other, the Zabrak would finally exact revenge in a style only suitable for his species and the disciplines of the dark side itself. Diverting into a mantra emulating a mirrored sentiment of the former Jedi order, its served for psychological warfare and heightening himself mentally for the duel ready to commence between two practitioners of the force.

" Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall free me. "


Weight began to distribute between the staggering feet of the martial sith, fixated at width approximately at the shoulder. Aligning them accordingly, she eavesdrop upon these antics prior to combat itself, both feet angled slightly to the side and the knees should be facing in the same direction of the feet; never flatfooted. Hands adhered to about temple level, back slightly hunched, and most important having elbows raised to safeguard the chest. Manufacturing a distinguishing fighting style of unarmed combat with the capabilities of a sith warrior made this brute versatile and incredibly lethal. Muscles swelled, though trained eyes could watch the force manifest throughout his core with controlled breathing.

Literally the calm before the blood stained storm, Drakron's hunger gre insatiable the longer he stood composed. Unknowingly this effect struck at a Force-user's energy and metabolism, pulling out all the weapons for the long ride. Assuming the usual stance, his right foot rose above his towering height before slamming his armored boot forward; appearing akin to a blur. Masking telegraphed maneuvers, a powerful current of kinetic energy surging through the might of the sith targeted the midsection, soaring like laser fire and crashing like the fury of a Wookie tackling an adversary.

" Peace is a lie, there is only PASSION!!!!!
 
The green hue of her lightsaber was menacing enough, but definitely not as intimidating as the Sith that stood before her. She was caught off guard by his attack but immediately spun her lightsaber, deflecting and even sending his attack back at him. But the Jedi missed one laser fire, it knocked her back, feeling more like a punch as she brought up her saber in self defense.

"Allow me to make your face symmetric once more, mongrel," she growled at the Sith - meaning the burn that was on his face.
 
(( Not trying to kill her pre-say but it should be fun ))

Kinetic force struck in reverse, instantaneous by the merit of self-defense versus the clash of power. Notified by her meager deflection told the imposing sith enough of her capabilities despite distress battering straight into her conscious. Lightsaber combat admittedly suggested turmoil, however Drakron's appetite for hampering his efforts in exchange for a challenge definitely honed his martial skills enhanced by the surge of the force coursing in the veins of the bestial force sensitive. Her glib insult referencing the Zabrak's burn only intensified the fury brewing, galvanizing power as primal emotions help sinew the giant. Momentum gained by the force spiked his agility, slowing the reaction speed of his enemies as the dexterity bestowed upon this unarmed specialist allowed greater usage of attacks and defenses.

" If you cans do it alone, without ploys or assistance. We Are Solo NOWWWW!!!!!!"


Proficient in the application of powers augmenting his physical capabilities, Drakron sprung into combat with the accelerated explosion of the force to propel his massive form away from his foe. Leaping beyond the fringe of even his incredible feats of athletics, jumping against the walls and encircling her. Enveloping the human within striking range, the pragmatic sith martial art knew it was necessary to crumble her resolve, batter her body, and rape her spirit; all echoing towards his denied vengeance. Both hands extended out amidst his accelerated bouncing around the perimeter. An extremely potent version of a force push, this variation responded like a telekinetic explosion. Difference was this offense was a double edged sword, knowing damage would be inflicted upon him in exchange to surprise his foe.

Tight, cramped corners were worse for the potential to ram his opponents against the walls at a high velocity. Caught in the blast radius, yet avoiding the epicenter unlike her. Regardless of her defense he would be soaring, crashing into an obstacle or two. His speed enhanced also damaged him, though biologically his race held quite the threshold for pain. Gritting his teeth, he slowly rose but pondered how she dealt with it from the center.
 
His rage was intimidating to the Jedi, but she kept her composure as she tried to watch him. She deflected any attack he sent at her, but he moved so fast her back was exposed at some point. He grabbed her and rushed her to the wall. At some point he had twisted her to so that her back hit the wall. She gasped in a bit of pain and quickly tried to swipe her saber at the Sith that enclosed her, a bit of panic rushing through her veins.
 
Drakron ignited with ferocity behind the unrelenting attacks, critical in execution with barely possessing any regard for his well being. Trading reckless, borderline suicidal assaults for profit appeared to cater towards success. Overwhelming her with excessive waves of kinetic styled violence, he quietly gawked at the woman whom initiated this crusade towards breaking her, ridding himself of her overall existence. Although damaged, his primal rage did not emulate the tranquil state of mind as he gradually shortened the distance. Swiping at the barely covered Zabrak would proved inefficient in her frantic state, collided against the cestus like gloves as a lightning fast jab augmented by the force phased out the light saber momentarily. Cortosis was infused in his gloves, retaining a special conductive properties which caused lightsabers to temporarily short out upon contact. The literal secret weapon he rarely revealed for cumulative attacks weakened the bond overtime, slicing through it. Cheyenne's precious laser weapon was neutralized for a few seconds, enough to capitalize. Focusing on all his rage, he channeled his telekinesis powers to slowly levitate her off the ground and begin strangling her through an intense invisible grip strengthen by pure rage.

" How the mighty fall without help!"

Visualizing the sensation of delivering enough pressure to squeeze the life from this annoyance, resulting in crushing her throat satisfied him immensely. She was helpless, but defiant which irked him. Rage began to dissipate quietly, stumped why she has yet to perish. Although furious, most disturbing was at a subconscious level he was resisting the urge to apply full force behind his attack. Peering at her body he admitted she was enticing, something he did not register before until moments closing in towards victory. Instead he opted to ragdoll her body against another wall versus slaying her, his mind clouded with thoughts alien to him. A concept foreign to the bestial sith, what he slowly had creeping upon his hearts really frightened him. There no way it could be her, that was unforgivable to him. A naive jedi his mate, dare he even think soulmate? It was an anomaly, though how often have certain viewpoints have been polluted through intense emotions? The possibility was there, though it irritated the Zabrak more than anything.

" DAMNNNNNIT, IT CAN'T BE YOU. ANYONE BUT YOU!!!"

Should this impetuous jedi fit the comical criteria of what defined a soulmate in his society, she needed the utmost discipline and punishment for causing him strife. She wouldn't get anything pleasant, though this rage also was perverted with passion for the hunt. She was formidable, knowing daring tactics were significant for the upper hand he held against this rebel.
 
The grip on her throat had her struggling for breath. The Jedi instinctively went for the invisible hands but found none. She didn't relent though, she never had and would it start now. She grabbed random pieces of metal and rock, throwing it at the Zabrak though not aiming as accurately as she could. She either missed or the Zabrak deflected her attack.

She didn't want to have to use it, but she couldn't breath as she tried to gulp in air.

He yelled something and threw her against another wall, her body would've bounced if it wasn't for the invisible force that held her there. She had to use it...

Her body relaxed and then suddenly a bubble formed around the two. The bubble was clear and anyone could come and go as they pleased. It would feel as though cool air rushed through their body when entering or exiting. If he tried to use the Force again he would find that he couldn't. The Jedi had to cough for a moment to get air back into her lungs, but now without the force and without light sabers the two were on equal ground.

She raised her hands, she wasn't submitting to him it was clear. He would have to kill her, or force the girl unconscious.
 
" I REFUSE TO BELIEVE YOU CAN BE MY MATE!!!! "

Frantic in the traditional bloodlust that reinvigorate the warrioristic Zabrak, he was determined to reign supreme. Whether or not his next maneuver connected wasn't the question per say. Biologically the level of cardio for Zabrak in with perfect conditioning would outpace a human thanks to two hearts. More frightening than his fury is the pain threshold of his race, willing to shatter bones before falling in combat. Lewd images sprang spontaneously, visualizing ways to pummeling her into submission, leaving him confused in combat. She was alluring with a nice figure, though his rage would keep him tamed to a degree in the middle of this intense duel.


Bewildered amidst an emotional crisis, debris was deflected but barely before launching his potential mate away from his presence. Distressed without maintaining concentration upon his surroundings the barbarous sith charged forward. Though his stature and athletic exterior allowed superb agility, the Zabrak became alarmed with the realization with the surging gust of cool air of the stunt she performed. Still unrelenting with a violent goal in hand, she was challenging one very versed in unarmed combat. Eyes wide open filled with unseen fervor, whipping his massive muscular right arm from an overhead position into a straight. This formulated into a cataclysmic sprinting haymaker, emphasizing his back muscles and angling to create a humanoid battling ram. Whether disturbing was a secondary effect should the blow prove unsuccessful was a painful collision of a headbutt with horns making it akin to a mace. Unlike other scenarios no one was coming to her aid, regardless of his ludicrous thoughts peering in he refused to let this opportunity be wasted.
 
His howl caught Cheyenne off guard. Her arms lowered actually a bit at his shout, her wide, green orbs looking confused as pouty lips pressed together in a frown. Her confusion was enough for her to scramble to miss his first attack, but she wasn't able to deflect the second one at all.

The crown of horns hit her hard on her side, the human with fragile bone and flesh collapsed in pain, holding her side. He had effectively knocked the air out of her lungs too as she inhaled deeply. With her loss of concentration from the confusion and pain, Cheyenne felt the bubble around them shatter. She was breathing heavily as she spoke her first words...

"Mate...? I would never mate a monster like you," she forced out, glaring at the Zabrak with contempt.
 
Disorientation albeit retaining exceptional degree of pain tolerance could not neutralize the damage discharged from the absurd assault. These results caused the rebellious jedi to crash violently onto the ground and himself rattled dreadfully as a consequence of this course of action. Rage still permeated throughout his form, deliberate in his actions though why he kept sparing her bewildered him, hence confusing his hearts. Her animosity rippled in the air, demonstrating intense emotions towards him. Words like hers nearly broke control, a insidious grimace planted through his scarred facial features in eerie fashion. Feeling the flow of the force coming back abruptly, Drakron had a horrendous suggestion instilled by her venomous words. Admittedly some attraction surfaced amidst the combat, perhaps a byproduct of the roaring ecstasy of madness leading to what she probably view as a lament configuration. Contempt was brewing, soon he would find out if that was all which existed.

" We shall see how much is true!! "


Candidly, telekinesis defined force sensitives on the grounds that allowed them to manipulate physical objects, air currents, air pressure and air pockets, as well as creating and/or controlling physical impulses and forces, such as pressure, friction, kinetic energy, and even gravity, all with the power of the Force. It had a tremendous number of applications, both combative and utilitarian. Needless to say taking a gander at the female warrior, the Zabrak's application of the technique would definitely afflict mental anguish by a physiological means. Gesturing nonchalantly with his hands, the brute mustered a descriptive motion of shredding. Most would opt for something more destructive, however she barely resist something non sentient being affected. Without hesitation or perverse leering, the sith initiated a hint of horrible things to come tearing her jedi- robes from the middle practically symmetric , then tossing them in opposite directions to leave her exterior bare. How she responded was the curiosity, more so could this human comprehend his thoughts as he gradually closed the distance between them.
 
She was caught by surprise as he gestured towards her, even closing her green eyes for the on slaught of pain. But she heard the year and then the cold air nipping at her skin. Her eyes widened as she watched her robes be discarded. Angry welts were on her side from the collision and other scars adorned her naturally tanned body. Across both shoulders were wing like tribal tattoos and on her back was the same intricate fashion, the Republic insignia was on the back of her wrist. The dark, black tattoos accented her voluptuous body well.

Her chest was busty, about a 34DD and her hips were wide naturally. Though these traits could be seen through her Jedi robes.

At her nakedness she attempted conceal herself while also moving backwards. She was too drained to use the Force from the power she just exerted.

"What are you doing? Stay away from me," she ordered as though he were a soldier.
 
The Jedi's form was truly bare now, emotions flaring whether one could determine the cause as lust or seething was difficult to discern thanks to the appalling demeanor of the Zabrak sith standing before his vulnerable opposition. Her complimentary figure obviously acknowledged, although ignorance or revenge clouded the carnal inclinations were potentially masked thus far. Aesthetically pleasing to the sinister hues of the bestial force sensitive, her defiance and habitually her wrath made the concept of breaking her through exclusive methods an intriguing proposal. Amused immensely at her flustered but demanding tone, Drakron was considerate though with disturbing implications.

" What I intend to do will shame you. For my entertainment and curiosity test your resolve and if these decrepit inklings of feelings pure or an illusion."

Nourishing his barbarous tendencies through the plausible factor she fit his criteria within his culture, punishment was warranted for her ruin became necessary. If not this was classified as a perfect combination of physical and mental anguish for one identifying his species as primitive, hence befitting to test her. Telekinesis shifted the rules, scathing through her mundane defenses. Strangling one through proper prowess within the force was only a vile application of telekinesis just akin to the force push technique. He would incite his target, barely moving a muscle as an invisible power used by such a provision grip onto her bare pussy. Employing it for foreplay..the effect was feeling a sinew grip on her pelvis...applying pressure that gradually became stronger the harder she resisted. Eyes filled with glee watched, keeping himself placid knowing her choices would narrow.
 
Cheyenne glared at him as he sought to embarrass her. She quickly learned how at the silent attack on her body, invisible hands gripped at her hips. One hand rubbing against her sex, she gasped before a small bubble started to form around her to save her. But the Jedi couldn't concentrate with the Force assault and how drained she felt already.

The emotional onslaught that hit her was almost violent as her body felt pleasure that she had denied it for so long. Betrayal quickly set in as she struggled to keep the distance between the two, but firm invisible hands forced her pelvis flat and her unable to scoot backwards anymore.

"Can't even mate with your own kind? You're disgusting," she attempted to insult through ground teeth.
 
Misery beyond what this lone woman could discipline currently assaulted her body with thoughts her order would condemn previously. Harmony became the last reflection of the embarrassing scenario, curiosity settling upon the brutish sith whom enjoyed her distress with such ardor drawn from the twisted grimace drawn onto his scarred facial features. Though his next tactic would pale in correlation, it definitely qualified under the sexual torment he bestowed upon his prey. Killing her softly wouldn't justify the humiliation administered through her ploys with the rebel scum. Altering the air currents her respite was temporary and only for a few seconds as the grip lessened. How unfortunate he caused quite the feint, typically the swirling force would lift an opponent into the air, spin them around, and leave them incapable of moving out of it. Instead it was compressed and fixated within her, twirling like a maelstrom of air accelerating at high speeds, almost like a super speed dildo causing immense sensations without counting as penetration in the slightest. Though his loins were slowly aroused, he contained himself momentarily. She wouldn't be branded with such honor, she would beg for it like the bitch on heat she was.

" Have I touched you yet? I haven't perhaps wicked thoughts are implanted, insecurities even."
 
Her hips squirmed, her body withering in pleasure, but her mind yelling at her to keep fighting and to stop the attacker. Her face was flushed now in embarrassment as she let out small gasps of pleasure. It wasn't until the invisible dildo entered her that Cheyenne could no longer hold back moans of pleasure.

"You sick fuck," she growled out as she gave a gasp and a moan, bucking her hips against an invisible thrust.

The thrusting became much too fast, and the depth that the dildo was reaching became too much so that the Zabrak had to hold down her shoulders as she let out a scream of pain and pleasure. The dildo assaulting her cervix as though it were attempting to force itself within her very uterus. Her nails clawed at the floor beneath her as she came, her juices sliding from her slit as she pleaded for the thrusting to stop as it grew painful more than pleasure.

Once it stopped, Cheyenne laid crippled on the ground, tears of shame developing in her eyes as she glared at the Zabrak.
 
" Discipline is lacking in you jedi, surrendering can spare you the pain. The darkside has its benefits too should true release is desired."

The brutish Zabrak treasured the torment brewing deeply within the fragile conscious of his captured jedi. Deliberately or perhaps a sign of attraction, the cancerous being seeking only calamity rose from the nether region. Captaining on her vulnerable state as the force of his torture diminished, he stood there approximately five feet away erect. Few comprehended the vitality of this bestial race, possessing a secondary heart which biologically from blood flow increased the capabilities of strength, dexterity, and in a potential predicament for the jedi Cheyenne, endurance. Similar to her physique of her assets deemed well endowed, she could see a lengthy, but somewhat wide appendage springing from the fabric of his pants. Stationed in a position where she could be daunted by its appearance, he stood there with curiosity as this portion of the psychological warfare involved her inner turmoil through ethics and her own lust. Regardless of her cold response through her eyes, she was slowly losing her willpower.
 
((Sorry for the delay, had to close and then open the next day a lot so my sleep schedule was messed up for awhile))

"If you believe I would be <i>weak</i> enough to surrender to you, then you think rather low of me," Cheyenne said coldly, she noticed his boner but the Jedi wasn't going to submit willingly. Especially to an alien.

She gave a Force push, still weak from her previous exertion but enough to give her time to twist onto all fours and then rise into a full sprint to get to the large opening where she had been dropped from previously.
 
((I was curious, but I am glad to see a reply again ))


Defiance embroiled the torment of his design, a pernicious glare drawn from the feral yellow hues of the sith warrior purposely going beyond his usual gimmicks to breach her virtue which sustained this resolve she cling upon like treasure. If she was destined as a soul mate her mental vigor should befittingly match her physical capabilities. Rather amusingly Drakron sought more than downright suffering, arousal sinew by her courage to continue to fight a futile battle. A telegraphed , yet agile swing of his left arm indicated in intensify power exerted from previous demonstrations of his applications of the force. Channeling through with passion instilled with rage and lust intertwined; the Zabrak seek to telekinetically abolish her temporary freedom with reminders of gravity. A ethereal grip would attempt to reach her rear leg, the ideal scenario whipping her into the solid ground in which she committed to sprinting at full speed. Improvisation in combat was apparent, utilizing her speed and jump to turn against the jedi and leave her in a vulnerable position.

" After all your escapes you think I Will Let You LLLEAVVEEE!!!!???"
 
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