Chapter Text
After witnessing the rise and fall of the Galactic Empire, it took a lot to shock Sabine Wren. She had been raised a soldier, firstly by Clan Wren, then the Imperial Academy and lastly the Rebel Alliance. She had learned to harden her heart, to detach herself from the suffering and death around her, to complete the mission at any cost.
But nothing could have prepared her for the daily depravities of Jabba’s Palace.
Taking stock right in front of the imposing gates of the fortress, Sabine found herself taking a deep breath. Then she ventured down the smoky, stinking passages which led to the throne room. Trying to look purposeful and businesslike as if she didn’t have a care in the world, she took careful note of every roaming patrol and guarded doorway but it was hard to think tactically when inside an ancient fortress filled with flashing lights and rowdy revelers. The Core-World bass reverberated through the cracked dirt walls, an unending heartbeat at the centre of the Hutt’s putrid celebrations.
As she advanced deeper and deeper into the murk, Sabine’s eyes were drawn to the indistinct, half-naked silhouettes leaning against the walls or kneeling in front of the Hutts’ various lowlives. She was particularly interested in a lilac Twi’Lek with a skimpy leather harness and an ample, jiggling arse that several gangsters were enjoying reddening with hearty, loud smacks.
The sight of the hapless courtesan being spanked reminded Sabine of why she was here. Somewhere in the Hutt’s clutches, deep in the bowels of this den of sin, Hera Syndulla was being held.
It had all started with the pirates. As Thrawn’s Imperial Remnant started gathering its strength and tensions worsened, it had not taken long for the other forces in the Outer Rim to take advantage. Trade routes began to be threatened from Nar Shadaa to Tatooine and, as the outcry worsened, the New Republic had no choice but to intervene.
Experienced with dealing with arms dealers and smugglers from a young age, Hera had been the natural choice to deal with the Hutts, either through threats or bargaining. She had taken the Ghost to meet with Jabba three days ago, and promptly disappeared. Sabine knew for a fact that the Ghost was all but abandoned in a spaceport in Mos Espa. Hera was still on this hellhole of a planet.
Which meant she could only still be in the Hutt’s clutches.
Sabine braced herself as she shouldered her way through the increasingly busy crowds which filled the tunnels closest to the heart of the palace. She was armoured from head to toe in her armour and speeder leathers, but she still felt strangely vulnerable as she noticed gangsters eyeing up her obviously feminine form.
This was a place where every woman was seen as nothing more than a vessel for pleasure, and everything had a price.
Various courtesans were scattered around the room, dressed in wisps of silk, links of decorative chain and little else. Sabine watched apprehensively as a couple of them acted as servers around the periphery of the room, walking around with trays that were soon discarded so that the girls could be used for pleasure inside. Her hands clenched into fists as she realised that the sight of those nubile bodies being bent over a table or made to suck a cock only made her aroused.
Refocusing herself, Sabine looked to the other end of the hall. A rectangular dais marked the space for Jabba’s inner circle, but the Hutt paterfamilias was not presiding today. Instead, Sabine recognised the skinnier, emaciated form of his son, Rotta the Hutt.
But it was the figure lounging at the foot of Jabba’s throne that gave Sabine pause.
She would have recognised Hera anywhere, not least because of her brown leather bomber jacket. The problem was that the distinctive jacket was the only thing her friend and mentor was wearing, besides an iron collar around her throat.
Sabine’s eyes slowly wandered along the mature Twi’lek’s bare, long green legs. Reclining on her side with a bored look on her face, the Twi’lek was covering her crotch but Sabine could see that she had not been allowed anything in the way of underwear. Underneath her jacket, she was completely naked. Even that simple garment had been made more immodest, unzipped and parted on each side to reveal a ridiculous amount of cleavage that made Sabine’s mouth water. She had always considered Hera as a mentor and friend.
It was only now, when she was seeing her stripped and humiliated, that Sabine fully realised the hot Twi’lek milf that General Hera Syndulla had become.
Hera grimaced as Rotta patronisingly patted her on the head. “We’ve put you on display for long enough, darling. Go and entertain some of the boys, would ya?”
Huffing, the Twi’lek stood up, revealing a shaved quim and the most spectacular arse that Sabine had ever seen. Green and round, the sight of those perfect cheeks jiggling as Hera walked into the centre of the room almost made her faint.
Without any fanfare, an ugly hulk of a Weequay tapped her on the shoulder and Hera obediently slid down to her knees.
“Wait, what?” Sabine couldn’t help but splutter at the sight of the once-proud general of the New Republic helpfully undoing a gangster’s zipper and pull out a leathery, rampantly erect cock. Being paraded as a prisoner was one thing, but working as a willing sex worker was something else. What on earth had the Hutts done to her?
Inside her helmet, Sabine’s eyes widened as she watched Hera stretch her red lips around the long, pointy dick and then start mechanically sucking. She was standing so close that she could clearly hear the lewd sucking noises despite the music and revelry. She heard the sound of Hera gagging as the round head tickled and jabbed at the back of her head. And she heard the wet, slobbery sounds of spit and pre-cum sloshing in Hera’s mouth as the Weequay grabbed a lekku in each hand and started face-fucking her.
Sabine found one of her hands straying to her thigh as she squeezed her legs together. She had always enjoyed a bit of voyeurism but she had never known any display of public exhibitionism make her this wet.
Mercifully quickly, the Weequay started grunting, then Hera’s eyebrows lifted and her jaw started puckering as she sucked down his load of cum. Pulling out and spreading cum all over the Twi-lek’s chin, the gangster wiped his cock over her face to put a few more white strings over her nose and eyes, then walked off without a word.
Hera visibly took a moment to compose herself, working her mouth with a look of distaste from what was clearly a very sour mouthful of cum. Then she turned to Rotta the Hutt with a wry look on her face. “I trust that was entertaining enough for you?”
The young slug turned towards her, a distracted look on his ugly face. “You what? I must have seen you suck half a hundred cocks by now: that was a mediocre blowjob at best. I think-”
A blare of trumpets interrupted the heir as a hulking shape appeared behind him. Slinking sulkily sideways, Rotta made way for the looming silhouette of his father.
Jabba the Hutt, the crime lord famous for his sexual depravities and near-invincibility, sneered at the display his son his started. Rumbling in Huttese, he raised a pudgy finger towards Hera.
“The slut is well broken in, father,” Rotta wheedled. “I promise you, she’s been sucking cock and taking it up the arse like a trooper. She’ll soon be ready for the Holo videos, then we’ll really have got one up on the New Republic.”
More Huttese, but this time a protocol droid stepped forward to translate for the entire audience: Jabba must have really wanted to put his son in his place, as the translator mechanically recited, “What other clever ideas have you got?”
Rotta giggled evilly, then snapped his fingers at the criminals nearest to where Hera was still kneeling on the floor. “Let’s really stretch her holes, shall we? I want you all to give General Syndulla a proper Tatooine welcome.”
Hera disappeared out of sight as Rotta turned to his father with an eager grin. “You’ll like this part, father. Personally, my favourite part is the sound she makes when she’s got two cocks inside of her.”
Reduced to a horrified onlooker, Sabine gasped at a short, sharp pain in her behind. Had someone really just pinched her bum?
Then strong, well-practiced hands were feeling all around her behind, patting her buttocks and gripping them through her tight leather leggings. “Don’t say a word,” a voice breathed to one side of her helmet. “Don’t even think about moving, either. I’ve been looking forward to this.”
Sabine froze, if anything feeling in even more jeopardy. She recognised her assailant’s voice.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she hissed as Shin Hati kept groping her arse.
“Well, as soon as we heard that the New Republic had sent an envoy, we decided the New Empire should be similarly represented,” the fallen Jedi said smugly. “You can turn around now.”
Sabine whirled on the spot and took an instinctive step back. She was used to seeing her nemesis clad in silver armour and grubby, travel-worn robes.
What she was not prepared for was the sight of Shin Hati’s pale, slender body being displayed in nothing but a tiny, black leather corset and gloves. The ethereal beauty’s ample chest swelled in the push-up corset, while a thong she was wearing underneath revealed her entire arse to the crowd.
“Fucking hell, that’s hot,” Sabine breathed, without thinking.
Shin laughed, her red lips parting as she kissed the cheek of Sabine’s helmet. “Just wait until you see what I’m going to make you wear. The two of us are going to have so much fun.”
Then Sabine was being pushed forward, the fallen Jedi’s hand on her shoulder pushing her forward towards the Hutts. Gangsters and smugglers alike eagerly jumped out of Shin’s way, revealing what had befallen Hera.
Sabine’s heart fell as she saw the Twi’lek on all fours. She was still wearing her leather bomber jacket, but the garment was hanging loosely so that her full breasts were hanging out, swaying from side to side hypnotically as the general was fucked from each end. A Wookiee’s cock was pumping in out of her mouth, while Hera wailed as an Ilthorian’s double cocks plowed into both her cunt and arsehold simultaneously.
Shin pushed her past the gangbang. “There’ll be time for all that later.”
Then Sabine was being pushed onto her knees in front of Jabba’s throne, her helmet ripped off her head as Shin cleared her throat theatrically. “Pardon the interruption, your eminences, but why just have one New Republic whore when you can have two?”