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Star Wars: The Eclipse before the Dawn (Corsair and Xana)

Please, don’t leave me, Kaydia begged as he felt the near-horror of her orgasm, followed by the feel of a man coming in her. Don’t leave me alone.

I won’t, he assured her. I’m here. I’m right here.

“What is it?” Shrikee demanded, peering at his face. “Is Nyamelo in trouble?” She looked around, then realized they were in the shower. “Do we have to go murder someone?”

“She’s...”. He tried to choose his words carefully. “There’s an orgy, and drugs that reduce inhibitions. And she had to go along, to maintain her cover.”

“Fuck.” Shrikee’s hands balled into fists. “Those fuckers.”

-*-

Hal-Jakan’s servant moaned into Kaydia’s cunt, lapping her master’s cum from her slit As she did a new cock pushed into Kaydia, one belonging to a bear of a man who began driving himself into her hard enough to make her body bounce. “Oh fuck,” he groaned. “She feels even better than I thought.”

The redhead shuddered, her juices drenching Kaydia’s face as she cried out in release. A moment later she was pushed aside, rolling to the floor in an undignified heap as a mint-skinned Tei’lek make stood above Kaydia, his throbbing cock standing erect as he brushed his head against her lips. “I’ll bet,” he grinned, pushing his head between lips made slick with the redhead’s juices and his precum. “Show me how well you can suck a man dry, Cordfay.“

The redhead rose up on her knees, supporting Kaydia’s head as the Tei’lek strsddled her face and tucked her throat. “Enjoy it,” she whispered, toying with one breast and licking her ear. “There are no limits here.” She gasped as a dark hand pushed her up gently vet Kaydia’s belly, pinning her down as a man drove into her from behind. “Every... pleasure. Yours.”
 
Decadence and depravity and dick filled the room, filled her body and even her mind. Quentin’s presence was a tender caress, intimate and gentle and utterly opposite the perverse physicality of the orgy.

Any other time, they could have enjoyed this, shared the pleasure through their bond. Now, it was just a reminder of the ways her body betrayed her, a reminder of all the times her body betrayed her.

Her one saving grace was Quentin. At least he kept her anchored herself, in Kaydia, in their bond. Without him, it would have been too easy to dissociate and let Scarlet take over.

Kaydia last track of who had her or how many it had been. Before long the other guests were reduced to a series of hands and tongues and cocks that took their pleasure in her, and took pleasure in her own bewildering climaxes. Physical sensation consumed her, disconnected from her mind and despite her disgust. But her shame grew deeper with each new lover, and each unwilling orgasm.

Jedi could push past the limits of the physical body, but even a Jedi had limits, and Kaydia was coming upon hers. The performance of enthusiasm was as draining as the physical acts, pretending to enjoy this usurpation of her sensations, and not give into her darkness. But that control was waning, and her conscious grew heavy and obscured.

Please, come get me. I can’t do this anymore.

~*~​

By the time Quentin arrived, the party had mostly died down. A few small groups finished their final acts, including the last man thrusting into Kaydia’s nearly limp body. Hal looked on,

“Glad you’re here, Malachi,” Hal called out, not standing, but instead gripped the redhead sucking him off, “Your performance tonight was spectacular. Truly you have

The man inside Kaydia finished, thrust deep one last time, adding his load to the dozens that had been inside her that evening. He pulled out, his seed spilling from her as he did, and walked away, avoiding eye contact with Quentin. Hal Jakan, however, didn’t look away. Just closed his eyes for a moment, accompanying a contented sigh. Eyes open, he smirked at Quentin.

“She’s still pretty tight, if you wanted to take a turn on her. I doubt the Euphoria’s worn off yet.
 
“She’s still pretty tight, if you wanted to take a turn on her. I doubt the Euphoria’s worn off yet.

It would be so easy to kill him, to kill everyone in this room. Quentin’s hand twitched, itching to reach for the lightsaber he held concealed in his jacket. Kaydia’s horror still lingered in his mind, horror caused not by her multiple partners but by the loss of control the drug had induced. The betrayal of her own flesh, a haunting memory of the SIN and of Aldane’s tortures. A black rage simmered up inside him, and...

“Not right now,” Shrikee said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “It looks like she needs to rest, now.”

Her touch reminded him of why he’d asked her to come with him. Literally, she was there to keep him from murdering the room. “Yes,” he agreed. Then he forced a smile. “Besides, I’ve never needed drugs to bed her.”

The redhead on Hal’s dick climaxed with a small muffled gasp, her fingers still playing her clit. Then she licked his meat clean before crawling away. “Have it your way,” Hal said magnanimously. “I’ll have my assistant contact her in the morning, to arrange an appointment. We have business to discuss, after all.”

“You do that,” Quentin managed. Then he unrolled the sheet he carried under one arm and draped it over his wife before lifting her into his arms.

-*-

Quentin sat at the side of the tub, helping Kaydia wash sweat and cum from her skin. Shrikee had left as soon as they’d gotten her into the bath, deciding that this was a time that the couple needed some privacy. And she’d been right.

“Are you all right?” he asked aloud. In the Force, though, his tenor was different. We should just grab the son of a bitch! he raged, darkness roiling and surging with the words. Just tear the information from him, and rip the Crucible apart!
 
“Are you all right?” he asked aloud.

“Yeah, just a little tired, and sore,” she murmured aloud, sinking into her bond with her husband. The orgy might have been over, but a lust for murder still coursed in her blood, fed by the synchronized and sympathetic rage in Quentin. Fantasies of killing every last person in that room, every last person who had participated in that orgy, danced in her mind, not hidden from her bond with her husband.

We should just grab the son of a bitch! he raged, darkness roiling and surging with the words. Just tear the information from him, and rip the Crucible apart!

Yes, she agreed, hatred fueling renewed energy in her. Logically, she knew it should have bothered her more how much Quentin let this affect him, how much control his own emotions had over him, in the moment. But rationality was buried under layers of resurgent hostility, under memories of her worst torments, and the shame and pain that accompanied them. The jedi in her insisted she meditate to regain balance, but that voice was drowned out by the harmonious darkness swelling in Quentin.

Temper set her blood aflame, igniting a sort of dark lust in her. She grabbed Quentin then, taking a hungry, full mouthed kiss from him. just a few moments, she didn’t care about the act and she didn’t want to be Nyamelo anymore. Desperate fingers pulled Quentin closer, devouring his mouth with her own. Half her body hung out of the tub, wet skin pressing into Quentin and dampening his shirt. She refused to pull away, seeking some relief, some comfort, some sanctuary from the memories and the fury.

Tell me you would have killed him. Tell me you would have killed them all…
 
MF Smut Scene: Quentin and Kaydia
Water soaked his shirt as Kaydia clung to him, dragging him into a hard, fierce kiss that he returned with a desperate violence as her need flowed through him. unconcerned about his clothes, about anything except the demands of desire and the heat of the woman gripping him, he climbed into the tub and pushed her into the far wall. Water splashed and soaked into his clothes as he feasted on her.

Tell me you would have killed him, she demanded, hands dragging at his sopping shirt. Tell me you would have killed them all…

There was a distant voice of warning at that, one he ignored in the heat of the moment. One that was easily ignored in the rush if mingling lust and rage, and the taste of scented water on her bare skin. Paralysis, he snarled, squeezing a firm breast and sucking hard on a nipple as he shifted, giving her room to push his trousers down over his hips. Block voluntary motor control, and shatter each of his bones. Let him move just enough to scream.

His thick cock ground against her belly as he grabbed a fistfull of long red hair, pulling her head back so he could bite at her throat. His teeth were hard, leaving dark bruises on pale skin in answer to a primal need tomark her as his. I’d have left him to die, he snarled, shoving her head back into the tile as he forced his tongue into her mouth. Bleeding out internally, muscles and organs shredded by fragments of bone.

His nails raked her back, still using her hair as a handhold. His free hand slid over her body, lubricated by the oil-scented water, then gripped her thigh and lifted. His cock slid against her, stroking over her lips before thrusting deep, using her own desire and the cum that had filled her to take her with a single thrust. Lightsaber, growled, pinning her against the wall. Water sloshed with each thrust, overflowing the tub as he drive into her. Seal the room, and slaughter them all.
 
Kaydia ached, tender from the multitude who’d fucked her, just a little while before. She ached, but she didn’t care, clenching sore muscles around Quentin with every thrust. He was worth the pain, and the pain empowered her. She drew on that power, drawing deeper into their bond, and into his pleasure within her.

His words filled her mind, playing out in her imagination. The pirates who had captured them, the ones that had implanted the SIN in her. Aldane, Linora, and her men. The partygoers, who’d taken her again and again and again. Sabers were bloodless weapons, for the most part, but her fantasies painted Quentin scarlet in the blood of her tormentors. His hands still slick as he claimed her, fucking her in the blood puddles of their foes.

Fuck me, Quentin,
she moaned into his mind, straining leg pulling him closer. Her far wall was already battered and bruised from the orgy, but she held him deep inside her. Fucking take me, Quentin. Make you yours again. All yours… Nails drew down his back, drawing blood. Wishing she could have drawn blood against Hal Jakan. It had been so long since she last killed the man she was fucking. Maybe it shouldn’t have been.

“Take me,” She gasped aloud, finger tight in his hair to bring his lips to hers. Tears streamed down her cheeks, invisible against the splashing water. Pain made her angrier, sent her deeper into herself, into their connection, seeking the strength to prevent this from happening again. Your Scarlet wants you to fuck her hard. I need you.
 
The pain spiking down his back alloyed with the pleasure of her body against and around him, reinforced by the hunger and pain and pleasure that poured out of her as he fucked her. Fucked them both. “Take me,” she gasped aloud, and he could taste the salt of her tears on her lips as she kissed him.

“Mine,” he growled, biting her lip as he hammered his cock into her, feeling her gasp at the melange of pleasure and pain each thrust generated. Her thigh slid over his, dragging him deeper as he filled her, her hands hard and nails sharp on his back. “Mine.”

Rage filled his mind, rage and lust as she ducked him back. He could taste her desire for revenge and his body, feel her hunger to crush Hal Jakan and the Crucible and everyone who’d ever hurt her. He knew he should pull back, understood the risk that...

Your Scarlet wants you to fuck her hard. I need you.

Water cascaded across the floor as he drove deep into her, forcing her body up the slippery tile of the wall as his cock slammed into her. “Fuck,” he snarled. “Take it. Take it all.” More water splashed as he pushed up on his knees, impaling her on his shaft. His hand dragged on her hair, dragging her down onto him. My Scarlet, he said, teeth sharp and stinging on her throat. Mine. Mine.

Red-orange flame glittered in his eyes as he forced her head against the wall, his mouth devouring hers. The same flames echoed and reflected in her green gaze as her fingers tangled and dusted in his hair, taking from him as he took from her. He roared aloud as he climaxed, driving her into the wall one last time as his cock pulsed within her and her name echoed in his mind and hers. SCARLET!
 
Passion flared in her eyes, a combination of rage and pleasure. His pleasure burned bright in her mind and along her nerves, drawing a climax from her aching muscles and tired body. Perhaps they should have meditated instead, but Kaydia like knowing that there was a darkness in Quentin too, a reflection of her own shortcomings. Wrapped around her husband, body and mind, Kaydia felt a little less alone.

Once the adrenaline of bliss and rage passed through her, she collapsed into his arms and buried her head in his shoulder. The tears streamed down her cheek and smudged his soaking skin. None of that would ever be more than a fantasy, confined to the deepest recesses of her mind and their bond. None of it could ever be real. They were Jedi, and therefore better than that.

Hold me. Just for tonight, she didn’t want to be a Jedi, or Nyamelo or even Scarlet. All she wanted now was to be Kaydia, to be Quentin’s wife. Hold me, and don’t let go.

Eventually They got out of the tub and dried off, and eventually she fell into a restless sleep, entwined around Quentin and refusing let go. The next morning, it was time to be Nyamelo again. Last night’s fury became an icy mask on her features, burying her pain beneath the layers of performance. They were to meet Hal Jakan again, to attend a gladiator auction. They might have been back in their roles, but neither was willing to play along any longer, and as soon as the moment afforded itself, they would strike, and pry the information from his mind by whatever means necessary.
 
Quentin didn’t sleep that night, too shaken by the emotional roller coaster of the evening and the rage that filled him. Long after Kaydia fell asleep he meditated, trying to regain his balance. Seeking to acknowledge the darkness within but not be ruled by it. There is emotion, he reminded himself, but there is peace.

Paralysis. Block voluntary motor control, and shatter each of his bones. Let him move just enough to scream.

Balance was difficult. Peace was a struggle. Because he wanted Hal Jakan to suffer. Because he’d set Kaydia up. Because the son of a bitch had participated in gang raping his wife. I’d have left him to die. Bleeding out internally, muscles and organs shredded by fragments of bone.

It didn’t matter that Kaydia had gone along with it, to preserve her cover. It had still been rape. There is emotion, but there is peace. But he still wanted the man to suffer.

-*-

“So,” Shrikee asked, sounding concerned, “you two, uhm, all right?” She was wearing a one-piece Black catsuit with a zippered front, and a black jacket and boots. An outfit, Quentin assumed, that was as close to ‘professional’ as the gladiator’s wardrobe got.

“No,” Quentin said, stifling a yawn and pouring himself a mug of tea. “Not really.”

“I suppose not,” Shrikee grimaced. “I, uhm, did some research on Euphoria. It’s not addictive, not physically addictive at least. So there’s that.”

Quentin shook his head grimly. “Yeah. There’s that.” He sipped his tea. “We’ve got an auction to attend. Have you seen one? What are they like?”
 
Shrikee was right that Euphoria wasn’t physically addictive, because it wasn’t Euphoria that she craved. Now the sweet embrace of Inertia call to her, the pleasant haze that would separate her from the memories. Even without the Euphoria, she felt too much, and for just a bit, she might like to feel a little less.

But she was stronger than her addiction. Or, at least, she should have been. But the lingering darkness in Quentin left her snappish. So she covered impatience in a deep drink of hot tea.

“We’ve got an auction to attend. Have you seen one? What are they like?”

Shrikee frowned, “Well, they line the gladiators in the arena and have them do some exhibition stuff. Anything short of fighting an actual bout. It’s far tamer than anything that happened last night.” Her eyes flickered over to Kaydia then, filled with a quiet appraisal. Kaydia nodded once.

“Well, let’s not keep them waiting.”

~*~​

Ten other lanistae stood in the owner’s box, drinking and eating with an aloof contentment. She recognized every last face present, remembered everyone from night. And despite what those memories brought up in her, she too needed to adopt a casual air of interest. Nyamelo Cordfay gladly participated in last night’s orgy.

In the arena, a dozen nearly nude men and women strode about, taking up various weapons and trying a few moves before setting them back down and trying something else.

“Anything catch your eye, Nyamelo?” Hal Jakan asked, passing her a drink and touching her bare arm. It took nerves of steel not to stiffen, not to show her inner distress, and despite all that, she forced a smile.

“Well, form up here they do seem impressive,” she agreed, motioning with her drink. “Would it be possible for Malachi to get a closer view of the contenders? Despite being an amateur, he seems to have a decent head for this.” She met Quentin’s eyes for just a moment. This might be a good chance to get him alone, and pull the info right from his head, she suggested, disguising their connection by sipping her drink.

Hal wore his typical, magnanimous grin, “That can certainly be arranged. Follow me.” He led Malachi out of the main room and down the hall into the elevator. Punching in a code, the doors opened for him and he entered first.

“So, was she the reason you broke you vows,” Hal Jakan wondered aloud, before turning to face him, “Or was she just the one who took you in after you left the Order, Quentin Hall?”
 
Quentin took a position at the back of the lift, idly wondering if he could make a move here. Probably not, he decided. The elevator was, most likely, under surveillance. As was the rest of the brothel, really. Despite his desire to end this, it would be nice to survive getting the information they needed.

“So, was she the reason you broke you vows,” Hal Jakan asked as he rapped the controls.

“My vows?” Quentin didn’t allow himself to tense at the question, but it was certainly alarming. Particularly since Hal Jakan had identified his fighting style earlier.

The man turned to face him, “Or was she just the one who took you in after you left the Order, Quentin Hall?”

“The last I heard,” Quentin replies, “this Quentin Hall was dead.”

The two men stared at each other, sizing one another up. Then Hal Jakan smiled. “A dead man with quite a busy career. Black Sun wants him dead for crippling their Mustafar operations.”

“Perhaps they should be more careful about annoying dead Jedi?” Quentin replied.

“Indeed.” Hal Jakan shrugged. “How did you come to serve Madame Nyamelo Cordfay?”

A shrug. “Let’s just say that she could make a Jedi Master forget his vows.” He paused, then smiled. “And the pay isn’t bad, either.”

The lift stopped, and the door slid open. ”It would be at that,” Hal Jakan laughed. “And so Quentin Hall is dead, and you are Malachi Hardin. How did you come to be in the service of Madame Cordfay, then, Malachi? You seem far more skilled than the typical security specialist a business woman if her rank requires.”

Quentin shrugged. “I enjoy a position that allows me a great deal of flexibility.”
 
“I must say, you’ve performed most impressively,” Hal Jakan acknowledged, leading hmm down the hallway that fed into the arena, “And Madame Cordfay possess a certain cunning and insight that is quite valuable. I think both of you could be worthwhile partners in a business venture I am involved in. Perhaps we could discuss it over dinner tonight, just the three of us?”

The entered the arena together, and all the gathered gladiator stood tall, powerful bodies erect and posed to accentuate their strengths. “Did you want to spar with them, or were you thinking something else, Malachi?”

***​

There would be no need for Quentin to relay the details to her later, not as she experienced his conversation with Hal through their bond.

He knows too much, Kaydia fretted, covering her tension in a drink. Dammit, they were so close now. So close, and too deep. She couldn’t turn back not, not after everything that had happened. Idly, she watched the gladiators from the viewing room, and turned her attention towards Quentin as he entered the arena.

He suspects that you are a Jedi, but not me. That would be their ace in the hole, their secret weapon. Because it was too late to turn back now.
 
“I would need to discuss the matter with Madame Cordfay, of course,” Quentin replied, carefully controlling his reactions to Hal-Jakan’s invitation. “But I am certain she would be delighted.” He offered a small smile that he didn’t really feel. “This trip had - originally - been intended as a vacation. But the business prospects are... exciting.”

He knows too much, Kaydia fretted.

Knows? Quentin replied. Or suspects? Although it bothers me that he saw through my disguise. I may need to retire Malachi Hardin for a while.

He could feel Kaydia’s thoughts working. He suspects that you are a Jedi, but not me.

Which, clearly, will be an advantage. Quentin’s thoughts shaped the smirk he carefully kept off his face. He won’t maintain the same mental shields around you as around me.

By now, they’d entered the arena. A dozen men and women, all human or nearly human, stood posed to display their physiques. It wasn’t hard to appreciate them, either, since all were naked and oiled. “Did you want to spar with them,” Hal-Jakan asked, “or were you thinking something else, Malachi?”

“For now,” Quentin replied thoughtfully, “have them demonstrate weapon and unarmed combat firms.” He shrugged. “I want to see what they know, and how much they’ll need to learn.”

-*-

The demonstrations took nearly two hours, and Quentin was ready for it to be done nearly an hour before that. Instead he took notes, and offered a few of them some useful criticisms, and made a show of identifying three with great promise. “The final decision is with Madame, of course,” he said when it was finally over. “But she often follows my recommendations in such matters.”

“In personal alone?” Hal-Jakan asked, rising as well.

“No,” Quentin replied. “And I feel confident that she’ll be interested in meeting you over dinner tonight.”

“Excellent,” Hal-Jakan said with a small smile. “I look forward to seeing more of her.”

It took a heroic effort not to crush the man’s throat. “Until tonight, then.” Offering by a shallow bow, he turned and stride towards the exit. I assume you heard that?
 
Of course. Ice clinked in her glass as she threw the rest of it back, and made her rounds to excuse herself once Quentin returned. They spoke of the gladiators, aloud, with him offering his suggestion, while under the surface they made plans for that evening. She refused to be caught off guard again.

Kaydia spent the rest of the afternoon preparing herself. Which meant meditation, in her case. As good as it felt to give into her emotions, she needed control. They were too close to fail now.

Dinner was away from the Velvet Hour, an upscale restaurant staffed by sentient beings. Upon checking in on the reservation, the host lead them through the dining hall, to second floor, where private dining suites waited. When they arrived at the last door on the left, a full service of hor d’oeuvres presented on the table, and Hal Jakan, standing to meet her.

“Ah, Nyamelo,” he greeted as she stepped through the door, with Quentin a few steps behind. He took her hands, not in a handshake, but gripped her fingers. There was affection in the gesture, an intimacy she wanted to recoil from, but she forced herself to smile. “I’m so glad you decided to join me this evening. I trust that Malachi here relayed my offer?”

Kaydia took a seat across from Hal, with Quentin seated behind her. Drawing on their bond, Kaydia maintained balance. “He mentioned it, but I really need more details before I can come to any decision.”

“In time, in time.” Hal waved off her concerns, and poured them each a glass of dark wine. “I find such meeting more agreeable on a full stomach.” He smirked over his glass, appraising her with eyes that had seen her naked, “Of course, I can make our dinner a far more agreeable time as well, if you so desire.”

“That will not be necessary,” Kaydia insisted, her voice coming out as a physical presence in the room. Hal froze for a moment, smile gone and eyes narrowed, before placing down his glass of wine. Did he sense the compulsion, or was he caught off guard by her tone? “I really wish to hear more about this opportunity you are offering.” His expression softened, became receptive. Good. Now was the moment to strike.

“Tell me more,” she purred, enjoying the control. A bit too much, perhaps, but she refused to back down. Not now. “Tell me everything.”
 
Quentin took his seat behind Kaydia, watching the redhead seated behind Hal Jakan. She was the same one he’d seen the night before, fingering herself as she sucked the slaver off. So she was a bodyguard as well? Interesting. Was she a slave, he wondered? Or an employee?

Of course, with criminal cartels, the difference between slave and employee was narrow at best.

“I find such meeting more agreeable on a full stomach.” Jakan smirked over his glass, appraising Kaydia with hungry eyes. Quentin controlled the urge to punch him in the face. “Of course, I can make our dinner a far more agreeable time as well, if you so desire.”

“That will not be necessary,” Kaydia replied, and the Force was a subtle lash in the words. Hal froze for a moment, and the bodyguard’s attention shifted subtly to Kaydia as the slavery set his glass down. “I really wish to hear more about this opportunity you are offering.”

Was the bodyguard sensitive as well? That could prove troublesome. So Quentin caught her eye, then made a show of appreciating the cleavage she displayed in her minidress. She smiled back, licking her lips as she did.

“Tell me more,” Kaydia purred. “Tell me everything.”

“Lay everything right out,” Jakan remarked, sipping his wine. “I like that in a business partner - and I think we’d make excellent partners, Nyamelo.” He placed the glass down. “You’ve got a good eye for gladiators, and you’ve got connections with Golb GmbH - a firm that operates just on the legal side if the line with some of their dealings. And you’ve managed to tame yourself a Jedi.”

He smiled at Kaydia’s expression. “Oh, don’t worry. Malachi already knows I know his real identity. I’m impressed, not horrified.” He leaned forward, slightly. “You’re extremely talented, and you’ve made yourself extremely rich with your talents. But I’m offering to make you richer, and more powerful.”

He paused, examining her expression. “Have you ever heard of the Crucible?”
 
Everything she did in those moments was performance, sinking deep into the Nyamelo persona. She even, made sure to wear surprise on her feature when Hal mentioned her taming a Jedi. All the while she was aware of Quentin’s perceptions, including his inkling that Hal’s redhead might be force sensitive. Well, that certainly explained a lot. And it meant she still had to be careful using the force. More than ever, she needed to keep her own connection hidden.

“I can hardly call him tamed. It’s more of a partnership, and I understand you know a thing about partnership.”

He paused, examining her expression. “Have you ever heard of the Crucible?”

“I’ve heard many unfortunate things, but I am willing to believe I’ve been misled. Do you care to correct my misunderstanding?” She relaxed into her chair, and sipped at her wine.

Hal shrugged, and smirked. “There is a lot of false information out there, and I am impressed you can keep an open mind about it. Allow me to disabuse your misconceptions. We provide a product, a service of procurement. I guess you could call me a recruiter. And I imagine you’d be quite a recruiter as well.”

“Well, this is certainly an intriguing offer. And I can see where the wealth comes in. But, how does it account for power?”

Hal laughed, and served himself from the available dishes. “I thought you knew, Nyamelo, wealth is power. But, there is more to it than that, admittedly. The members of the Crucible are wide spread, numerous, and well placed in positions of power.”

Bingo. “My, that is interesting. Well, how do I accept this, partnership with you?”

Hal played a hand on hers and smiled. Revulsion bubbled in her mind, but she maintained a magnanimous smile. “All things in time, dear. There is, of course, a bit of a vetting process. But I have no doubt you will be approved. You and Malachi would be valuable partners indeed.”

No, no good. They were so close, and vetting could turn up more information about them than she liked. Above board, everything about their identities was established, but there was reason to think an organization like the Crucible might make use of underhanded methods to investigate potential members. The temptation to rip the knowledge from his mind remained, but it was so risky with red head present. Unless…

Hmm, a curvy, redheaded force sensitive? Sounds like she might be your type. She muffled her laugh with a bite of diner, chewing methodically to give herself time to converse with Quentin. Teasing aside, it might be useful for you to seduce her, and keep her distracted so I can probe Hal Jakan’s mind.

Well, I say we need to celebrate this new partnership between us. I do believe you mentioned making our meeting more agreeable? Or, perhaps more competitive?” She flashed a cocky grin, and didn’t hide the way her eyes explored the pretty redhead. She wasn’t usually on this side of the gaze. “Perhaps our bodyguards can demonstrate their dedication and tenacity. Over a friendly wager?”
 
Seduce and distract her, huh? Quentin eyed Hal Jakan’s bodyguard. Any ideas how?

“Well, I say we need to celebrate this new partnership between us. I do believe you mentioned making our meeting more agreeable? Or, perhaps more competitive?” She said, responding to his question and Hal Jakan’s both. She didn’t hide the way her eyes explored the pretty redhead.

“Something more competitive?” Jakan asked curiously, leaning in. His hand still rested on hers, caressing her skin. “What did you have in mind?”

“Perhaps our bodyguards can demonstrate their dedication and tenacity.” Kaydia replied. “Over a friendly wager?”

“Oh, I rather like that,” Jakan laughed. “Say, Ellora’s services for three days against...” he stroked the back of Kaydia’s hand, “your company tomorrow evening?”

Quentin could feel Kaydia’s revulsion through the Force, and from her amused smirk he could tell Ellora felt it as well. “Sounds fun,” she remarked with a chuckle. “Either way.”

Kaydia nodded agreement, a single, terse gesture. “All right,” Wuentin asked. “Shall we adjourn somewhere else?”

“I don’t see why,” the redhead remarked, rising. “This is a private suite, after all. Plenty of room.”

Quentin appraised her clothes, and shook his head. “You’re really not dressed for a fight,” he remarked, “and I’d rather not...”

“I wouldn’t be a very good bodyguard if I couldn’t fight like this,” she contradicted, putting on a choker and matching brackets - three plain bands of a bright, silvery metal. High end gladiator bands, Quentin realized. He caught the similar ones she tossed him. “Weapons? Or bare-handed?”

With a shrug, Quentin examines the bands and then clipped them on. “No strong preference.” Shrugging out of his coat, he drew a ten centimeter black rod from the forearm. “Batons?”

“Sounds good to me,” she agreed, drawing a similar weapon from a purse.

They moved out into the open area next to the table, eying one another carefully. As one, both combatants flicked open the batons - transforming them into meter-long staves - and attacked. Metal clashed on metal as they exchanged a rapid series of sword-like blows. “Shii-Cho?” she smiled. “I thought you’d do something more interesting.”

“And you countered with Makashi,” Quentin replied.

“Naturally.” She smiled. “Now, try this!” She lunged in, engaging his baton in an opening gambit in the Djem So style. Quentin, partying furiously, gave ground.

“I must confess something,Nyamelo,” Hal Jakan smirked. “You aren’t the only business person to tame a Jedi...”
 
“is that so?” Kaydia asked, with practiced surprise. “You may have to share your technique. That is, assuming it was different from a generous compensation package and white-hot lust.”

Hal laughed, and leaned in closer to her, “Well, white-hot lust might have had something to do with it. You’ll learn all about that once you officially join the Crucible.” The clang of metal on metal cut through their conversation, and Quentin had to flip back to avoid a strike to the midsection. “Or, perhaps even sooner, if Ellora proves her mettle here tonight.”

“I suspect you have something specific in mind,” she murmured, watching with quiet intensity as Quentin countered Ellora’s strike, and connected with her tight stomach. Not that Kaydia really needed an explanation, based on what she’d seen so far. Likely a mix of drugs and neural implants.

“Oh, just you, trussed up with silken rope and leather grips. Posed in artful bondage where everyone could see, and anyone could have you. Where they would all see me taking my pleasure of you, and eager to pay top dollar to take their turn afterwards. But don’t fret. I would ensure that you enjoy it just as much.”

His vivid description filled her veins with ice, but Kaydia pushed the revulsion down. As disturbing as his plan was, his open frankness made plumbing his mind easy, no shield as she gathered details on the Crucible’s operations and members. “And if Malachi is victorious?”

“Then it shall be Ellora bound for use by you or anyone else who desires her, with all the profits directed to your accounts. And they tend to be quite substantial profits.”

One of Ellora’s blows struck true, striking Quentin’s calf behind the knee, and sending him down on his back. The redhead was atop him in a flash, her skirt riding up her hips with two creamy thighs straddling his waist. A multitude of conflict feelings filled her mind, from a certain repulsion at Hal Jakan’s suggestions to a slight jealousy at the sight of another gorgeous redhead straddling her husband to the building lust in Quentin’s mind, fed by each blow Ellora landed in this position.

It took a heroic level of willpower to push those feelings aside, probing deeper in Hal’s mind. Names and positions and locations flashed in her mind faster than she could truly process. They’d have a substantial case on their hands, once all this was sorted out.

Lending Quentin just a touch of her power, Kaydia relaxed into her seat, “Looks like it will be a near thing, in either case.
 
Quentin went down in an undignified heap, arousal and pleasure washing up from his knee and exploding from his back as he slammed into the ground. Ellora straddling him, grinding against his stiffening cock as she drove a fist into his chest didn’t help. “Good thing they weren’t lightsabers,” she laughed, punching him again. “Or you’d have lost that leg.”

“True enough,” he admitted. “But lightsaber combat was never my preference.”

“Really?” She drew back her fist. “What was?”

He slapped her arm aside as she struck, sending her fist into the floor instead of his face. As she tried to recover he struck up, thumb sinking a quarter of an inch into the base of her throat. Ellora rocked back and fell sideways, gagging and gasping for breath, clearly staggered by the mixed signals of pleasure and a panicked struggle for breath.

Quentin rolled sideways, calling his baton to his hand as he rose. Ellora came up as well, her own weapon thudding into her hand and hate and luster burning in her eyes. It was, he decided, a hotter combination than he’d expected. “Fuck... you...” she growled out.

“Wasn’t that the idea?” Quentin rejoined.

“It does look like a near thing,” Hal-Jakan agreed as Ellora lunged in a Djem So slash, feinting low and aiming at Quentin’s arm. Metal rang as he parried. “I rather thought, even hoped, that he was defeated when she was atop him.” He watched as Quentin scrapes his baton down Ellora’s, slashing at her hand. “Still, it’s far from over yet.”

There was a clatter as Quentin’s baton went flying. “Got you!” Ellora laughed, striking. Then she gasped as he spun, pinning her arm between his bicep and chest, and gripping her wrist. She cried out as he twisted her hand, forcing her to drop her own baton.

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at her. Then he raised her arm over his shoulder and spun, twisting the limb around and behind before shoving her into the wall. Her helpless moan was a testament to how much the joint lock would have hurt without the harness. “Because,” he added, pinning her in place with his weight, “I’m not sure I see it.”
 
Ellora stood on legs like jelly, thighs trembling under the weight of her arousal. There was no give between his metal wall and his hard body, and hardest of all was his cock, prodding her ass through his slacks. Dammit, she’d seen enough of his matches to know she wanted it in her, but she’d really thought she could be the one to finally defeat him.

Now, she stood on the precipice of defeat, knowing it would be so easy for him to take her like this. All he had to do was unzip his pants and push her skirt up a few scant inches. Lust drooled down her thighs chaffing with each movement. Please danced on the tip of her tongue, the desire coiling in her loins becoming a physical ache in her body. Another desperate moan left her lips, her mind filled with fantasies of being filled by him, reaching for the barest willpower to formulate a defense.

Backed into a literal corner, instinct took over, and the elbow of her free arm cracked into his skull. It was harder than she intended, harder than she would normally strike one under the influence of the harness. He stumbled back, releasing her arm, and she took a deep breath as she turned to face him once more. His eyes were still sharp and focused. Good, she hadn’t given him a concussion, and she wouldn’t have to feel guilty about the follow up knee to his gut.

He fell back several paces, and she used that space to pull her baton back to her hand once more. Moreover, she drew on her inner darkness, drawing power on the lust burning under her skin and coursing through her veins. She feinted into a low sweep, changing course mid-swing to rise up, and land a blow under his chin.

“I will have you, Malachi,” she growled, pinning down his counter strike and forcing him back with a shoulder to the sternum. He landed against the wall with a gasping cry, inflaming her hunger. “While your mistress is fucked mercilessly, you’ll serve my every pleasure.”
 
Quentin was hard as a rock, but not as aroused as he might have been. It was the lack of air that did it - the knee strike to his stomach had emptied his lungs, and the uppercut had interrupted his attempts to refill them. Black spots danced before his eyes as he struggled for breath, and he gasped as she pinned him against the wall. “I will have you, Malachi,” she growled, a hungry sound that made him want to submit. “While your mistress is fucked mercilessly, you’ll serve my every pleasure.”

Hal-Jakan leaned forward in his seat, and selected a bit of spiced crab on toast. “Finish it,” he murmured, smiling.

Ellora smiled back, catching Nyamelo’s eye and licking her lips. Then she grabbed Malachi’s cock through his slacks and squeezed hard. “That’s it,” she purred as he cried out. “You want it, I can feel it.” She stroked his length, then squeezed again. “Just give in, and...”

Quentin smashed his forehead into her face, rocking her head back with the force of the impact. She staggered back, meaning and shaking her head, and he followed her. His hands blurred, moving in a Shii-Cho pattern, slashing at her sides as she gasped and jerked with the impacts. “And you’re too cocky by half,” he managed, stepping back and blocking low as she tried to recover by punching him in the gut. “You’ve neglected your training.”

He felt the fury build in her, felt it telegraph her next movements in the Force. She lashed out with a telekinetic strike that he evaded by deflecting it and side-stepping it, then caught her arm as she followed up with a spear-hand strike. Twisting her wrist he forced her to one knee. “Anger doesn’t make you stronger,” he added as she jerked and pulled. “Has bless you train in it, it just makes you stronger.”

“I’ll... I’ll...” she gasped out, stretching out her free hand. “I’ll...”

Her baton kept to her hand once more. In response, Quentin kicked her in the stomach and tore the weapon from her grip as she fell backwards. “Lose,” he said, straddling her hips and pressing the cool metal of the baton against her throat. She struggled beneath him, body rolling and bucking and fuck he wanted her right now. “What was it you said?” he asked, shifting his grip so he held the bar against her throat with one hand. The other pulled at her dress, baring one firm breast. “Something about serving my every pleasure?” His fingers dug in to soft flesh, squeezing mercilessly. “Maybe you should beg me to have you.”
 
MFF Smut Scene: Quentin, Kaydia and Ellora
Her lust soaked his slacks as she ground against him, desperate to feel him inside her. There was but a moment of resistance within her, before Ellora released a shuddered whimper, the sound of her defeat, “Please…” His grip on her breast sent her eyes rolling back into her head, her nipples stiff

“It’s over,” Kaydia breathed. Quentin’s arousal left her throbbing in sympathetic ache, and she trembled when she pushed herself to her feet. All they needed to take down the Crucible was locked away in her mind, but she could hardly focus on that now. “It’s all over, Ellora.”

“A pity,” Hal murmured. He drained his glass and stood as well, close enough to feel his heat against her back. “But a deal is a deal, and I am sure you’ll enjoy Ellora. But one of these days, Nyamelo, I will enjoy you. Again.” Once he left the room, Kaydia finally relaxed her guard. He, and all his associates would pay, soon. But tonight, she would take back a degree of control.

She slinked out of her dress with each step towards her husband and the defeated bodyguard. With her knees on either side of Ellora’s head, Kaydia sunk down to Quentin’s level, and took a hungry kiss from his lips. “You’re going to make me cum, slut, if you want release,” Kaydia demanded, pressing her soaking slit against Ellora’s lips.

Ellora pulled Nyamelo closer to her, fingers leaving a bruising grip on her thighs, and thrust her tongue deep into her cunt. While she might have hoped to see the icy business woman brought low and transformed into a cock hungry slut, need consumed her mind and muddled her thoughts. Now all that mattered was pleasure, and if eating out Malachi’s mistress could get her on that cock, she’d prove ravenous.
 
Quentin watched, almost hypnotized as the silken sheath wrapping his wife slithered down her body with each deliberate step forward. He felt Ellora’s attention shift as well, and the thought that she wanted Kaydia as badly as he did made his cock throb against the defeated Jedi. Then Kaydia stepped from the pool of silk and knelt over Ellora’s face, and the taste her own lust was rich and hot on her tongue as she kissed him. “You’re going to make me cum, slut,” she demanded, he eyes watching his reaction, if you want release.”

“You heard her,” Quentin added, grinding his cock against her. He’d need to have his clothes laundered later, stained as they were by her desire. He twisted a nipple, making her moan into Kaydia’s slit. “Take care of her.”

Ellora’s hands gripped Kaydia’s thighs with bruising force. From his angle he could see her chin move, and her tongue explore Kaydia’s dripping lips before pushing into her depths. From his wife’s expression, Ellora clearly knew what she was doing.

Quentin leaned forward and kissed Kaydia, his tongue exploring her mouth as he tormented Ellora’s breasts. “I’m going to fuck her,” he breathed, guiding Kaydia’s hands to their toy’s soft breasts. “I want you to watch me fuck her while she eats you out,”. He kissed her again, fumbling at his lust-slick slacks as he did. “I want to watch you cum while I’m balls deep in her.”

He shifted Ellora, pushing her skirt up around her hips and ripping her sodden panties away, then slid his aching shaft over her soaked cunt. Grinning at the feral hunger in his wife’s eyes, he made a show of entering her, reveling in the way Kaydia watched her stretch around him as he pushed into her. “Fuck,” he breathed, letting Kaydia taste the word as he kissed her. “She’s just a little cock slut, isn’t she?” Ellora whimpered agreement, tightening on his cock and Kaydia’s firm thighs. “How should I fuck her?”

He leaned in, driving deeper, resting his hand on Ellora’s throat so he could stroke Kaydia’s clit with his thumb. “She’s still got her harness on,” he breathed, biting st his wife’ throat. “She’ll love anything we want to do to her.”
 
“Why don’t we see what she can take? Fuck her senseless, like the filthy cunt she is.” Kaydia sighed and simpered. “Fuck her until she can’t take anymore, then fuck her again anyways?” Ellora was enthusiastic with her tongue, but even she wavered when Quentin sheathed himself inside her. There was something dirty about this, kissing him while he fucked another woman. While that woman fucked her in turn with her tongue. Dirty and depraved and delightful, the performance of it all exciting her as much as the acts.

“Show me how good she feels on you,” Kaydia moaned. Her hands explored the woman beneath her, and the heavy breasts that bounced with Quentin’s every thrust. She played around with pleasure and pain, enjoying her quiver when she pinched Ellora’s firm nipples, and Quentin’s own appreciated sighs, as Ellora clenched around him.

Ecstasy built in her, from the physical sensation of a thick, flexible tongue parting her slit, to the hunger of Quentin’s lips. Each kiss spoke of pleasure, of desire, and she realized his tongue moved in her mouth in time with the motions of his cock in Ellora. Her own kisses became greedier, fingers fisting in Quentin’s hair to keep his face close to her. The hand that groped Ellora dug into her supple flesh as well, her reward for attentive service. Her climax drew a shudder from her, complete with eyes rolling back into her head and her body going rigid.

“I want to see her dripping with your cum,” Kaydia breathed, begged, her breath hot on her husband’s face. “I want her marked by your triumph over her.”
 
Quentin’s hips moved, sheathing his cock into Ellora in time with her tongue in Kaydia’s cunt. In time with his tongue in her mouth. “Cum for me,” he breathed, circling her clit with his thumb. “I want to see you cum on this slut’s mouth.”

“Show me how good she feels on you,” Kaydia moaned, squeezing fistfuls of Ellora’s ripe tits. Ellora moaned beneath them, her walls tightening in his shaft.

“Is that what you want?” he replied, nipping at her throat. “To see me fuck my cum into this whore? To watch me..,”

Kaydia’s hungry mouth silenced him, her tongue filling his mouth as she shuddered and moaned in orgasm. “I want to see her dripping with your cum,” Kaydia breathed. “I want her marked by your triumph over her.”

Quentin took another kiss from his wife, leaning eagerly into as he drove himself without mercy into Ellora. He felt his balls tighten, his duck harden, and then he pulled out. Ellora made a whimpering sound, muffled by his wife’s dripping slit, then at her her hips as he slid his shaft over her slick folds. Once. Twice. And then he climaxes with a cry. His cock jerked, sending a jet of pearly cum across her stomach and into her tits. He kept stroking, splattering his lust into Kaydia’s taut stomach, and across Ellora’s belly, staining the black dress crumpled around her waist.

Grinning, Quentin dragged his fingers through the cum pooling on Ellora’s navel, and gently slid them between Kaydia’s parted lips. “I still want to fuck my cum into her,” he whispered. “I want her to walk back to Hal-Jakan with my cum dripping down her thighs.” He leaned in, cupping Kaydia’s breasts and kissing her throat. “How do you think we can get me hard again?”
 
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