Star Wars: Slave of Black Sun

On the late afternoon of their second day on Braggh, Hera went on a supply run, calling out to Sabine that she would be gone for at least two hours. With the others already gone, that left Sabine Wren alone, idly spray-painting a boulder. 

As the speeder bike pulled from the drive, Sabine felt an odd kind of excitement rushing through her mind and body. There was just something about being on her own, especially after a long interlude in a cramped and crowded starship. Sabine pulled her sunglasses from her face, blinked in the bright light and squinted into the bushes. She could see movement behind them. Sabine hesitated for a moment, shaking several loose strands of hair from her face. She swung her legs over and stood up, pushing the sunglasses back on her head.

Stepping through a small break in the bushes, Sabine found herself coming suddenly upon a young man standing there, leaning against the fender of his dark-red landspeeder, his arms folded over his chest, his eyes focused on the dash where several loose wires dangled. The ship that he had landed was not far away. Apparently he’d had the same idea that they’d had, to park in this deserted parkland and let it camouflage his ship while he went about his business. Being circumspect was just good sense with the Empire in power.

At first he didn't notice her, his mind apparently lost in thought about something in the vehicle. Sabine's first reaction was to step back into the bushes and disappear. After all, no one had spotted her, and this was a dumb idea in the first place. 

Too late. He had seen her, his eyes rounding in pleased surprise.

"Hi... I'm Sabine," the girl said a little uneasily, tilting her chin up at a provocative angle while shaking more loose hair from her face.

He was certainly good looking enough. Black-haired and blue-eyed, the tall man obviously enjoyed working out, his firm muscles rippling under the greasy, sweat-stained cotton T-shirt.

"Markos... Markos Filin."

Sabine could see the sheen of perspiration on his arms, and she felt her heart quicken.

"Nice to meet... funny we haven't seen each other, or anything like that," Sabine said, swallowing a large lump of excitement. “We’re parked in, what, the same gridmark?”

"Been busy with this," Markos said, moving his eyes back over to his landspeeder.

"Oh, yeah, a real classic," Sabine purred, feeling some of the former uneasiness and fear disappear. 

"My dad got it for me a while ago. Been fixin' it up since."

They talked idly for a few seconds. Sabine was glad to see that Markos had noticed her body. In spite of the suspicion any girl would feel living under Imperial rule, Sabine was still feeling a little excited about being over there.

Markos was growing more and more interested in her as time went by. She saw that he could hardly keep his eyes off the smooth, lightly tanned area of her flat belly. Enticing men was still something new to her, especially enticing someone like Markos Filin. 

"It must take an awful lot of work and time," she cooed, smoothing her fingers over the lustrous red finish.

"Yeah, that reminds me—I've gotta get going on this thing," Markos finally said after a pause, glancing down at his chrono. He made a move toward his ship and Sabine followed, folding her hands behind her back and letting her feet glide over the warm grass. She thought she could see a faint smile over his lips as he strolled inside his ship’s cargo bay, one hand barely touching a greasy rope attached to the overhead door. When Sabine stepped in, bending her neck a little so as not to hit her head on the door, she heard a loud groaning sound. The light began dimming quickly. Turning around she saw the door folding down quickly, thudding to a shut position with a loud bang.

"No!"

Her pulse leaped at her throat. Markos was there, behind her, breathing heavily as he shut the door.

"No, what?"

"It's just that... that I don't like being shut in and... and things like that," Sabine said uneasily, drawing her hands protectively in front of her while shrugging her shoulders. Maybe she could still talk her way out of this one. 

"Well then, I think you should get used to it," Markos said, his sensuous lips curling into a sadistic smile.

Pivoting around, Sabine rushed for the door, curling her fingers into two tight fists and beating on the rusting metal with all her might. "Help! Someone, help!" she cried, her eyes wide with fright. "Help. Helmmmfmfffff!"

***

It was her restraints that Sabine Wren resented the most. The proud Mandalorian, who took such pride in her finely exercised, battle-hardened body, was now on display in the most demeaning manner. She knew that they would be fools not to restrain her, but she just knew this was meant to be humiliating—bent over, her neck and wrists collared by a single restraint that forced all three together nearly against the floor, with her forced to kneel like a prostrate worshipper just for some measure of comfort. Her ass, whose voluptuousness curving she had always been pleased by, was the first thing anyone would see as they came through the door to her cell, while she could barely see them through the corner of her eye.

“Well, a Mandalorian,” he said, a sneer coarsening his pleasant face and otherwise clear voice. “You can’t begin to imagine how honored I am.”

“Pleased for an excuse to use some torturous machine, no doubt,” she spat.

“No, no—this isn’t official business, no. Think of this as more… off the books. Something between just the two of us. A man and a woman.”

“Uh-huh. And the guards just decided to let you play with me out of the goodness of their hearts?”

“Oh, no, it had much more to do with the whores I sent to entertain them. I have some experience with whores.”

“I’ll bet!” Sabine said, hissing through her teeth.

Markos ignored her. “My father, Ashtrum, he was a slaver. From the day I was born, he taught me how to break in unruly slaves, make them accept their lot in life.” He paced, taking himself in and out of Sabine’s compromised sight, and every time he walked behind her Sabine felt a chill of fear go through her. When would he strike? She knew it was coming, but when? “As you can imagine, breaking a slave was very hard work. Rewarding, but hard. You have to make them love you, in a way. Oh, fearing the lash or the collar, that’s all well and good, but it’s when they really appreciate their enslavement…” Markos was behind her. Sabine heard the footsteps getting closer. “When they thank you for setting them free from the chaos of freedom… then you can trust their slavery.” Markos knelt down suddenly, beside Sabine’s face. His hot breath hit the backs of her fingers, the side of her cheek. “Every day, my father let a slave shave him. One little gesture with that razor and he’d be dead. But not one of them so much as scratched him. Wouldn’t you call that love?”

“I don’t think I’d call it anything,” Sabine retorted. “I don’t like speaking of things that are so disgusting.”

Markos cracked his head to the side. “That’s good. From now on, you should only speak when spoken to.”

“So now you intend to break me? You’re right. Petty and pathetic, just like I thought.”

He reached into his pocket. “No, I’m not going to break you, my dear Sabine. I’m going to please you. You’ll find it far more… interesting than most of Black Sun’s efforts. In time, that is. The machines, they’re so cold, so unfeeling. You’re a Mandalore. You should appreciate the personal touch.”

“If you aren’t using machines, what’s that in your pocket?” 

“Oh, this?” He brought out something small and cylindrical, the head oddly shaped. “This is more of a tool. Here. Let me show you.”

With a sudden burst of motion, he had drawn her abbreviated top down her belly, making her cry out as it roughly raked her nipples. Then, with the same blinding speed, he grabbed her left breast with groping roughness and brought the tool to its tip. Sabine was helpless to resist, even to move her body as Markos held her in place with his arm wrapped around her belly. The tool pressed into her nipple and suddenly—

Sabine screamed. Not cried, screamed. The pain was instant, blinding and intense, flashes of red bursting like fireworks over her eyesight. Hotness beyond belief was in her nipple, like it’d been seared by red-hot metal, and the excess of that pain slammed out into her teat, her chest, her whole body, radiating out to make her shake and squirm against him. 

“One down, one to go,” Markos said, and clutched her other breast.

Like a cat in water, Sabine went into a frenzy. Now knowing the pain he intended for her, she was more than desperate to avoid it. She threw her body around with no concern for own well-being; her joints, brought to aching stiffness by her uncomfortable pose, twinged in protest as she forced them into motion, but she knew it was nothing compared to the pain that device would inflict. She didn’t even care if she broke one of her bones, just so long as she stopped this, stopped him.

Markos was merciless. He swung his fist into the back of her head, bone against bone, though he hardly seemed to notice. Sabine felt a sudden numbness, a tired startlement she couldn’t explain—shock that he’d had the audacity to strike her, the blow itself, the suddenness of it and the violence of it. She laid there, silenced, as he groped her other breast, jammed the tool against it, and once more sent pain through and into her body. Sabine screamed herself hoarse, and kept screaming as best she could while the pain settled, becoming a horrible, sensual throbbing that kept raking her breasts with fire, but only intermittently. She could almost grow used to it. She could almost breathe.

“There we are,” Markos said, returning the tool to his pocket and patting its resting place. “Pierced and ringed. Just like a good little whore.”

And, looking down as best she could at her bare breasts hanging like udders beneath her, Sabine saw that he was right. Not only had his tool pierced her nipples, but it had placed a pair of gleaming silver rings through them, just where a chain would be attached. And on that chain, a customer could simply place a bead so that he could have his way with her, leading her away on that chain so that the tugging nipple rings began the mixture of pain and pleasure she would be subjected to.

It was the same with whores throughout the galaxy.

***

Six cycles later…

Sabine leaned at the washer, loading it with soiled clothing. Behind her, Markos watched the way her ass moved.

"You forgot my jacket again!" he said.

Sabine jumped, startled. "I'm sorry, master," she said.

"Don't forget again, Slave," Markos replied, tossing his jacket to her. "You know I wear it all the time."

Sabine clung to his jacket, watching him walk away. She hated herself for being so easily startled every time he spoke to her. She hated herself because she was so passive, so easily dominated. She hated herself because of her fear of men. She couldn't stand up to men. That was the way it had been for as long as she could remember. Men telling and her obeying. Why not?

It was a man's place to tell.

Her duty was to obey.

But she was fearful something was going to happen, something between her and Markos. He had been looking at her with a strange gleam in his young eyes, a gleam she understood very well. What would she do if he demanded what men called their natural rights with a woman? She found out that evening.

She was sitting on the couch, wearing her robe, polishing her toenails. Markos was on the floor, watching her. She placed her foot on the low glass-topped coffee table, tucking her robe between her thighs carefully, but still exposing her thigh. At first she didn't realize he was watching her that closely. She didn't have to see him looking to feel his eyes on her thigh. She began trembling, afraid to look at him, afraid to see where he was looking.

Somehow, she managed to finish that foot, hiding her nervousness with an effort. But when she started on the other foot she was a little careless. Unknown to her, the robe did not quite conceal her crotch when she switched feet and her panties were exposed. Markos's eyes had become hot as he stared at the panties. A few dark curls of hair curled teasingly from the tight crotch.

She caught the movement of Markos's hand as he darted it into his lap. She couldn't see what he was doing because of the coffee table, but it was obvious. He was touching himself as he looked at her.

Sabine started to adjust her robe.

"No, Slave," Markos said, his voice hoarse.

Sabine's breath caught in her throat, her hand an inch or so from her robe, unmoving, frozen, with her fingers pointing to her cunt, as if she was getting ready to rub it. She lifted her eyes and saw the gleam in Markos's. A shudder rippled through her. His arm was moving, and she knew he was playing with his cock while he looked at her. A peek between her thighs told her what he was seeing. A blush crept over her face, and she felt shy, embarrassed. Somehow, though, she felt excitement, too. 

Markos was looking at her as if he truly wanted her, found her exciting, lovely to look at. He looked at her as if he not only wanted to fuck her, but to hold her, stroke her, play with her... caress and fondle.

Sabine felt her responses toward her master puzzling. Her nipples began to swell, straining out, bulging in tight hardness. Then, too, her cunt was starting to get wet and her clit pressed at the crotch of her panties. She had never felt real desire before. Now she was surprised to find herself attracted to her owner.

She also felt ashamed of her desires, confused and embarrassed. A pink flush burned at her cheeks, and she tried to keep her eyes downcast, but found herself peeking at her owner shyly.

Markos stood up.

"Oh my God!" Sabine whispered.

Her master’s cock pressed at his shorts, very hard. The tip of his cock was slightly exposed from the stringy fringe. She felt a lurch in her cunt.

Markos laughed a boyish sound.

"Markos, please!" Sabine whispered, knowing what was on his mind. "You don't know what you're doing."

"I know what I'm doing, Slave," he said. His hips arched forward proudly. The head of his cock slipped into view, swollen, very smooth, about the size of a plum. Moisture formed on his piss hole.

Sabine gasped, shaking, embarrassed to be seeing her owner's cock, ashamed of herself for peeking, ashamed because her cunt was responding with increasing wetness. She lowered her eyes, but just as quickly lifted them again, staring at the head of his cock.

Markos pulled his cut-offs to one side, let his cock stand out, his balls dropping free. Sabine couldn't breathe, and she couldn't pull her eyes from them. Markos stroked his balls a moment, then closed his fist about his cock, stroking back and forth slowly. She listened to his breathing increase and gazed at his cock from her lowered eyes, feeling the heat of her face, the unexpected throbbing of her cunt.

"Markos, please don't do that," she finally managed to say, her voice coming out in a low whisper.

"Shut up, Slave," he said, pumping his prick faster. "Don't tell me what I can do or not do." He sounded just like every man who had ever dominated her.

"Do it in your room then, please," she said.

"I want to do it right here," he said. "And I wanna see you, more."

"You want to..." Sabine's body jerked.

"Show it to me, Slave!" Markos demanded. "Lemme see what it looks like."

"See what?" she asked, fearfully, knowing what he was talking about. 

"Your fucking cunt!" Markos snapped. "I wanna see your fucking cunt, Slave!"

"Please," she said, tears forming in her eyes. 

"Show it to me!" he rasped.

Sabine's body shook, and she was afraid now, but not that her owner would slap her or hit her. He wouldn't do that. No one had ever beaten her. They just made her do what they wanted by words, gestures, and she obeyed. She was afraid her owner was going to dominate her just as the others had, and she wouldn't be able to prevent it. She couldn't stop him, she had to do as he said—her way was to obey, just as she had all her life.

Men gave the orders, women obeyed. Men made demands, and women complied. No matter what the man wanted, women had to do it. Sabine had been raised that way.

So she did as her owner ordered.

She pulled her robe out of her crotch, her fingers shaking.

Her panties were nothing to get excited about. They were standard, the white cotton utility type, not in the least sexy. But her panties weren't what interested Markos. It was the way her cunt bulged inside the crotch, the strands of curly hair sprouting from the elastic leg.

Markos pulled the coffee table out of the way, and stood in front of his slave. He shoved her legs apart, staring between them, his cock throbbing in his fist.

When her owner told her to shove her ass forward, she did, her shame growing worse. With her ass hanging over the cushions, legs spread, she knew her owner could see the wetness of her panties.

He pumped on his cock awhile, then said, "Show it to me now, Slave!"

"Markos, don't make me do that!" she cried in shame.

"Goddamn it, Slave!"

Her fingers shook so hard, she had trouble trying to pull her panties off. She turned her head to one side in shame, and finally got them from her feet.

Markos stared with hot eyes at his slave's cunt, seeing the thick hair fanning outward to her hips, curling along the lips of her cunt. When she parted her legs again he saw the pink wetness, the glistening tip of her cunt. Sabine's tits rose and fell as she sobbed, humiliated, and unable to do anything about it. When Markos yanked her robe apart, exposing her tits, she cried harder, her arms hanging loosely at her sides, eyes squeezed shut. Tears seeped from them, making her burning cheeks wet.

Markos stood between her legs, jacking back and forth on his cock. He tested his power over her.

"Hold your cunt!"

"Markos, don’t."

"Hold your fucking cunt, Slave!"

"Oh God," Sabine sobbed, cupping the fingers of her hand about her hairy cunt. She felt the wetness against her palm and she felt heat, too.

"Markos..."

"Shut up," Markos groaned. "Shut up and do what I tell you to do!"

"Yes, Master," she said softly, meekly.

"Hold it open," he said. "Hold your fucking cunt open for me."

Sabine spread the hairy lips of her cunt. She was bright pink with shame from head to foot. But she was excited, too. She didn't understand her excitement. This shame seemed to create a wild, searing heat inside her. Her cunt was pulsing with heat, her clit straining in hardness. She was becoming aroused.

Markos bent his knees and brushed the head of his cock against her swollen clit. Sabine's hips jerked with the contact, and Markos smashed her sensitive clit with the head of his cock.

"I'm gonna jack off on your fucking cunt, Slave!" Markos grunted, jerking his fist back and forth.

Sabine felt his fist beating against the engorged lips of her cunt. She groaned and couldn't stop herself from peeking down her naked body, watching him.

"I'm gonna come on your fucking cunt!" Markos groaned. "I'm gonna come on your pussy, Slave! I want you to say it!"

"Say what, Markos?" she asked.

"Tell me to jack off on your fucking cunt!" he demanded. "I wanna hear you say it!"

"Jack off," Sabine murmured.

"Louder, damn it!"

"Jack off," Sabine replied, her voice louder. "Jack off!"

Her cunt began to boil as his cock smashed her cunt. She could not stop herself from lifting her hips to him. And she couldn't stop saying those words.

"Jack off, jack off, jack off!"

Time and again she said them, her voice getting louder and louder until she was almost screaming.

"On my cunt! Jack off on my fucking cunt! Come all over your slave's fucking cunt!"

"More!" Markos demanded, pumping faster on his throbbing prick, holding his piss hole tight at her clit.

"Jack off on me! Jack off on my cunt! Come on my fucking cunt, my pussy, my twat, my hot snatch!"

"Better, Slave!" Markos groaned.

"Jack off... beat off... come off!" Sabine couldn't stop now. "Come all on my cunt! Spurt it over my fucking cunt, Markos! Cover my fucking cunt with your seed!"

"Fucking cunt!"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Sabine screamed, arching her cunt as high as she could. She clawed the hairy lips of her cunt wide apart with her hands. "Fucking cunt! Fucking cunt!"

"You fucking cunt!" Markos said.

"Yes, I'm a fucking cunt, darling!"

"Your cunt is mine!"

"My cunt is yours!"

Markos was gasping, staring with fierce heat at his slave's pussy, watching her cunt grinding. He was about to come, and his balls felt tight at the base of his throbbing cock.

His young passions were rampant now. "Fucking cunt!" he shouted down at her.

"Yes, I'm a fucking cunt!"

"I'm gonna come on your fucking cunt, you bitch!"

"Do it, Markos!" Sabine sobbed with increasing ecstasy. Her climax was close, very close. Her pussy had never felt so good before, never burned so hotly, never before threatened to consume her body, her mind, her very being.

"Do it, do it!"

"Do what, cunt!"

"Ooooo, come on me!" Sabine shrieked, jerking her crotch up against his cock. "Come on me... on my cunt! Spurt it all over slave's hot cunt!"

"You want it, bitch? Tell me, slut! Tell me what you want!"

"Come!" Sabine shouted. "I want you to come on me, on my pussy!"

"On your fucking cunt?"

"On my fucking cunt!"

"Want me to fuck you?"

"Yes! Ohhhhh, God, yes! Fuck me, Markos! Fuck my cunt! Fuck slave's cunt!"

"Want my cock in your pussy!"

"Yes! Yes! Stick it in my pussy, Markos!"

"Want me to fuck you, Slave?"

"Please, please!" Sabine gurgled, her head twisting from side to side, tears of shameful ecstasy pouring from her eyes. She held the hairy lips of her cunt as far apart as she could, churning her ass up and down, round and round. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Markos, fuck my pussy! Fuck slave's cunt!"

Markos suddenly grunted, his fist pounding frantically on his cock. The thick juice of his balls suddenly spewed, splashing over his slave's cunt. Spunk coated her hands, matted into her pussy hair. Sabine squealed as she felt semen burning on her cunt. The more her owner gushed his sperm over her pussy, the better she felt. She could feel his jizz on the lips of her open cunt. She jerked her head forward, eyes blazing, watching her owner come all over her crotch, smearing her pussy with boiling, creamy cum.

"Me too!" she screamed. "Ohhhh, Markos! I'm going to come too!"

Sabine screamed with ecstasy as her cunt contracted, waves of orgasms running through her. She strained her crotch against his cock, her clitoris totally crushed beneath his spurting glans. Her cunt was drenched in his seed.

“You better get pregnant from this,” Markos said. “I’m going to be very disappointed in you if you aren’t knocked up.”

“I’ll do my best, master. But I’ll understand if you have to fuck me more. I might not be obedient enough to give you a baby. Not if you don’t fuck me even more…”