BDSM Library - Star Wars: A Legacy of Force

Jacen and Lumiya stared at the camera feed for the interrogation room in the depths of GAG headquarters on the unnamed moon

STAR WARS

A LEGACY OF FORCE

Jacen Solo and Lumiya stared at the camera feed for the interrogation room in the depths of GAG headquarters on the unnamed moon. Usually for this sort of procedure Jacen would have undertaken matters at the units main HQ on Coruscant or aboard their star-destroyer, the Anakin Solo, but he could not risk any but the most loyal personnel seeing the prisoner. Nor could he risk any force-sensitive individual, not even his apprentice Ben, being anywhere near where what was about to happen or where it had taken place.

The Sith woman looked at Jacen as he examined the screen. Under her secret tutelage the son of Han and Leia solo and former student of Luke Skywalker was now well on the path of the Sith, a path Lumiya had begun down herself decades earlier when she had been a spy for the Empire. Sent as a pilot to infiltrate the Rebellion and discredit Luke, she had been discovered and shot down by him, only to be rescued by Darth Vader. The cybernetic limbs he had endowed her with allowed her to continue walk, and the knowledge of the Sith had allowed her to bring Jacen to this point where he was ready to betray all he had ever held dear in the name of creating a better Galaxy.

‘She was gathering intelligence about my work with you,’ Lumiya said, indicating the prisoner on the screen. ‘No doubt to report back to you uncle.’

Jacen continued to stare at the screen. ‘The Falanassi illusion I’ve projected around this facility will prevent anyone from detecting her through the Force,’ Jacen assured Lumiya, referring to one of the many alternate Force disciplines he had become an adept in while taking a five year tour of the Galaxy after the end of the last great war. ‘And the methods I learned from Vergere will prevent her using the Force to help her.’

‘But unless I am mistaken, all that will require considerable effort for as long as she is here.’

Jacen nodded. ‘Nothing I can’t handle. When I am ready, I can blank her memory so she has no knowledge of anything that has happened.’

‘You’re sure you can do that, even to her?’

Jacen gave her a sidelong glance that was both reassuring and a tad reproachful.

Lumiya smiled, pleased and just a little awed by her companions’ abilities. Yes, she had chosen well on many levels. But then her face became more serious. ‘However, we need to know what she might already have found out and passed on to the Council. Can you maintain your cloaking of us and her separation from the Force, and invade her mind at the same time?’

Jacen pondered for a moment, then his face fell slightly. ‘Doubtful,’ he said finally.

Lumiya was careful how she phrased her next words. ‘Then we will need to get the information by another means.’ Jacen was silent for a long time. ‘Perhaps I should do this,’ the woman suggested after a moment.

Jacen shook his head. ‘You don’t need to test my resolve,’ he said without looking at her. ‘This is my responsibility. I’ll deal with it.’

Lumiya seemed satisfied, looking up the image of the captive woman. ‘She will not break easily, I fear.’

A flicker of remorse crossed the new head of the Galactic Alliances special police, then was gone. ‘I know,’ he said softly.

***

Mara Jade Skywalker, Jedi Master and wife of Luke Skywalker for over a decade, had spent many hours cultivating the patience that was needed to train as a Jedi, but being shackled and held captive by a traitor was proving taxing even for her.

The red haired woman railed at herself for letting her son Ben train as Jacen’s apprentice. She had not wanted to believe the signs that Jacen was turning to the dark side, and had not even been aware that the tip off she had received from an informant on Bothuwai of a secret detention centre on this asteroid would involve the young Solo and the Galactic Alliance Guard he commanded. It was a measure of how far Jacen had already fallen that the security had put in place around the base was specifically designed to detect and capture Jedi.

Currently Mara hung above the floor of a round room shaped for the most part like a sphere, but with a flat floor in which there was a single door. Light were spaced all around the roof about three feet from the apex and about the floor at slightly higher than ankle level, meaning that she was illuminated from both above and below. The shackles holding her with cumbersome affairs that fitted about her wrists and ankles and from which durasteel wires were stretched tight to the chamber walls, as well as thick power cables which were connected to sockets around the chamber.

Mara shifted in her restraints, her arms and legs pulled tight in four different directions with her body angled so that she hung at about 45 degrees to the floor, facing downwards, arms above her head. She was dressed in a figure hugging grey bodysuit, her weapons belt still around her waist but bereft of her lightsabre or any other equipment. Short gloves and high grey boots covered her hands and feet, while her a band pulled back her tumbling red hair to leave clear a face that was still strikingly beautiful after 50 years. Under the clinging suit her body was toned to athletic perfection by hours of exercises and regular field missions, while still pleasingly proportioned so as to make her image or various renderings of it one of the more heavily downloaded by cyber-norks on the Galactic info-net.

Right now she was grateful for the top physical condition she held herself in. Somehow, and Mara had no idea how, she had been disconnected from the Force. Where once she would have been intimately attuned to the eddies and ripples of the energy field generated by all living things, now she felt lost and naked, bereft of its comfort and security. In its place all she could feel it now a buzz at the back of her head, like a migraine that refused to be cured. All this meant that Mara was not able to use the Force to strengthen herself as she hung by her outstretched limbs. Two hours of painful suspension had left her damp with perspiration, but she endured the discomfort stolidly.

The door opened and Jacen Solo entered.

At once a piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Jacen had told how, when he had been captured and tortured by the sadistic alien species the Yuzhann Vong, they had used a Force sensitive called Vergere to somehow cut Jacen off from the Force, just as Mara was cut off now. Somehow Jacen must have learned the technique and was using it to deprive her of her Jedi abilities.

Considering the depth of betrayal she felt regarding her nephew, Mara was surprisingly even tempered. She had to stall for time until Luke could become concerned about her whereabouts and suspect that she was in trouble. ‘Jacen,’ she said quietly. ‘Would you let me down, please?’

Jacen heard the control in her voice but noted the slight flexing of her gloved fingers. Mara’s passions ran deep, he knew, but unlike himself she did not allow herself to fully exploit them. His embracing of the Sith pathway had opened many avenues to him that no Jedi could appreciate.

‘I’m afraid not, Aunt Mara,’ he said, his tone equally measured. ‘At least, not until I know why you’re here and what you think you’ve learned.’

Mara thought quickly. If Jacen did not know she had learned of his compliance with Lumiya then there was a chance she could talk her way out of immediate danger – long enough to get a signal to the Jedi Temple at least. ‘You have a secret base for detaining possible enemies of the alliance – presumably to conduct procedures that regular government and law enforcement would find…distasteful. Or at least potentially embarrassing.’ She paused. ‘Does the head of the Alliance know, or is this a case of plausible deniability?’

She shifted in her bindings. Jacen noted with a sudden flash of surprise how attractive her body looked, but he kept his face stony. She was good, his Aunt, but unlike her he had full control of the Force, and even with the illusion he was creating he had enough concentration left over to sense lies – or omissions.

Jacen touched a button on his belt and around the room, six long panels slid down. From the dark apertures revealed unfolded a half-dozen multi-jointed arms, like the appendages of some huge insect. Each one was long enough to reach into the centre of the room easily, and tipped with a variety of sinister looking instruments that ranged from electro-prods and medical nerve stimulator to small flame emitters and drills, and even down to simple hooks, blades and pincers. The arms moved slowly to hover around the prisoner, humming softly and giving her maximum time to absorb their appearance and what they boded.

Mara watched the display, professionally appreciating the psychological aspect of what Jacen was doing while shifting in her restraints as arms moved in around her. When they had finally stopped moving a metre of her she turned back to face her nephew. ‘Am I supposed to be intimidated Jacen?’ she asked, raising her eyebrows slightly.

‘You’re supposed to tell me everything you know, Mara,’ he replied. ‘When I hear the truth, this will stop.’

Mara noted that he had used her first name and left off the ‘aunt’. Was he doing it to make her feel less safe, or to distance himself from what he was about to do? ‘This, being you torturing me?’

‘Interrogating,’ Jacen corrected.

‘Using torture,’ she said, holding his eyes with hers.

‘That’s up to you Mara.’

Mara pressed her lips together. She did not know how far her nephew had been lost to dark side, or how far he was prepared to go with this. What she did know was there was no way she could let him know what she had found out. So she hung in silence, surrounded by the metal arms.

Jacen stared up at the woman before him and knew that she would never volunteer the information he needed willingly. Mere psychological pressure would not suffice to break the will of someone who had once been the Emperor’s personal assassin. It pained him that it had come to this, but the alien Yuzzhan Vong had tortured him for months until he had come to see pain as an ally, if not a friend. Indeed, the chamber and Mara’s place in it greatly resembled the device the Vong called ‘The Embrace of Pain’, which he had endured without respite until he had learned to accept constant agony as something to be used, not avoided. And his Sith studies had opened him to even more such philosophies. All life involved pain.

Mara would have to learn how much.

He activated switches on the wall using the Force, and two of the arms moved closer, hovering near the female prisoner. They were angled to present what looked like razor sharp shears towards their target. They hesitated a moment, then moved to touch the body hugging material of Mara’s jumpsuit. Then they started to cut.

Mara held her breath and stayed perfectly still, but inside she was boiling with outrage. The shears moved over her form, snipping and clipping at her outfit with precise movement, slicing away her suit a piece at a time. Soon her arms were bare, and they moved to her midriff, and over her back. Then her legs. Pieces of the suit fluttered to the ground like dying leatherwings back on Coruscant.

The clippers cut away the covering over her stomach and back, so that only the material over her lower body and pulled across her chest was in place. Jacen watched the whole thing impassively, eyes cold.

Finally the pincers moved up to what was left of her outfit above the waist. Mara looked at the shears as they paused again, but when she looked down at Jacen below her there was nothing but contempt and defiance in those large green eyes.

The shears moved in, one pulling the material out and the other cutting slowly. The only sound in the room was that of synthi-leather being shorn by metal. With precision accuracy the arms cut both the bodysuit and the undergarment beneath, and then the grey covering fell away to the floor.

Mara felt the cool air wash over her exposed breasts and for the first time she knew, truly knew, that Jacen was going to torture her.

Jacen stared up at his Uncle’s wife and felt the sensations washing over him. First shame, but that passed quickly, to be replaced by a feeling of power. He was entering forbidden territory, the sight of Mara’s full and cherry tipped breasts the sign that he had passed another boundary. He let his eyes take in the supple roundness of the two orbs, comparing them to those of his secret lover Tenal Ka. Tenal was Queen of a race ruled by women who prized physical beauty, herself stunning. Mara was older and less exotically compelling, but there was an animal attraction, a fierceness in her femininity. Her breasts sagged little, and would have shamed those of many far younger human women, while her body was lean and firm, a dancers frame or an athletes toned perfection. Her fair skin was shining faintly with perspiration as she hung before him, muscles in her arms and long legs visible under the strain of her position, stomach flat and smooth. The sight of her semi-naked, combined with the fire he saw in those green eyes, sent a jolt through him that seemed to begin between his legs and radiate through his body.

Jacen allowed himself to feel the strange warmth flooding him. Sith used their passions. He would not flee from this tingling across his skin.

‘Last chance, Mara,’ he said calmly. He could sense her fury building inside her, but unlike himself she tried to suppress it, not control and direct it. That was why she had already lost. ‘This won’t be pleasant.’

Mara balled her fists, tensing. ‘Kriff you, Jacen,’ she said with equal calm.

Something moved behind her and she twitched her head around. There was a faint whistle and then pain flared across her back. She stiffened, exhaling sharply as he pain blossomed between her shoulder blades and down, like someone had spilled hot water over her.

Jacen saw the metal whip that had uncoiled from one arm draw back again behind Mara, and the effect the blow had on her body. The tingle increased a notch. ‘You don’t have the Force to help you with this Mara. Spare yourself a lost battle and a lot of discomfort.’

Mara glared at him but said nothing.

The whip hit her back again, and Mara stifled a small sound of pain. Now two lines of fire were traced across her spine and shoulders. Then three. Then four.

With each whistle and snap fresh suffering blossomed across her body, her arms and legs tensing with each strike. Looking up Jacen could see the female Jedi’s lovely face pinch with each blow, her eyes fluttering and her jaw set firm. He did not bother with questions – not yet. The prisoner had to know that he was patient – that he could wait as long as it took until the answers came.

After twenty strokes of the metal whip Mara could no longer fully suppress the shifting of her lithe form. Her back blazed with pain, like someone had tipped a nest of piranha beetles onto her and the vile bugs were eating away at her skin. Each time the metal coil touched her she shivered, trembling as the pain started to seep down through her. Her hair was damp with sweat and the burning across her back was matched by a shuddering chill across her belly and chest as drops of perspiration glistened on her. She felt some of the moisture running down her face and blinked them away, concentrating on fighting the pain of the whip with her Jedi honed mental disciplines. Even without the Force to help her she still possessed her native strength of will and a lifetime of experience in interrogation procedures. If Jacen thought this was enough to break her, he was going to be disappointed.

The whipping went on for fifty strokes. By the end the women in the shackles was hanging with her head drooping, her breasts quivering with pain and the cold of her own sweat as it dripped from her suspended body.

Without bothering to ask any question, Jacen thumbed his belt control again. Two of the arms in front also let whips uncoil, slightly shorter than the one behind but no less sinister. Mara turned her head to look at them, wetting her red lips but still saying nothing.

The arm at the rear began again, this time sending its pain inducing length snaking about her right leg between the knee and waist, and then repeating with the left. These were more sensitive areas as the pain was sharper and clearer than that on her back. She winced, shaking. At the same time the whips in front began to lash her, alternating between the space on her toned arms between her elbow and shoulders and the front of her shapely. Everywhere they touched her the metal lines marked her skin with fierce red welts.

The flogging when on methodically, the programs guiding the strokes of the whips monitoring the physical and neurological responses of the prisoner so as to target their whips for maximum efficiency; which was to say, maximum pain to the victim within the parameters set. So far Jacen restrained the arms from using enough force to do more that break the outmost layer of skin and cause superficial bleeding. Already light scratches crisscrossed Mara’s back arms and legs, the blood smearing against her damp skin as the whips hit her again and again. He could see her lovely green eyes narrowed as she continued to resist the pain, and the tension in her limbs. More and more, too, he found his eyes drawn to his captives lovely breasts, the way they jiggled gently as she suffered under the trio of lashes. As the sound of the whips striking against Mara’s body continued he found himself wondering how those orbs would feel in his hands.

After ten minutes the whips paused in their work, the arms pulling back but the wire strands still hanging at the ready, red tinged moisture along their silver lengths.

Mara’s body stung like the jabs of a thousand Yavin burn-wasps. With the constant blossoms of pain from the whips stilled, she now endured the continuous burning of her salt laden perspiration seeping across the scores of shallow cuts across her skin. She kept her breathing regular, using every technique she knew of that did not require the Force to keep the pain at bay while she tried to relax her body and give it time to heal. Knowing that getting Jacen to talk would buy her more time, she shifted her eyes to look at him, fixing him with a baleful glare. ‘It’s…not too late to stop this Jacen…’ Mara bit out. The pain made her tone sound clipped, but she kept her voice steady, injecting a mixture of both disapproval and concern.

Jacen smiled inwardly at recognition of his Aunt’s, no his prisoners attempt to sway his resolve. ‘The Vong taught me a great deal about the uses of pain, Mara,’ he said, stepping closer so he had to look up sharply at her. ‘The anguish you feel here is to help you understand that you need to tell me the truth. I’m going to leave you for a while so it can have some time teach you its lessons. When I come back, we’ll talk again.’

He touched his belt and the shackles drew further apart, moving towards their respective parts of the curved walls and dragging Mara’s arms and legs along with them. The pull increased slowly but inexorably, pulling Mara’s limbls tighter and tighter until she felt the tension as a constant knowing ache in the muscles of her four limbs, which spread gradually to the joints of her hips and shoulders. She tried to resist with her native strength but soon realised it was futile and tried to relax, allowing her body to be pulled more and more apart. It was not long, however, before not amount of muscular control could stop her feeling the pain as a continuous throbbing pulse, arcing along her nerve endings in an unending loop of suffering. And still the stretching went on.

Jacen could see the woman above him gritting her teeth behind red lips that were growing thin and pale as her grimace grew more fierce. Her shoulders would be a mass of daggers piercing her flesh and her lateral muscles down the side of her body would be tearing slowly as her arms were pulled out of their sockets millimetre by millimetre. The tension in her thighs made her muscles in her legs stand out against the red welted skin, and her ribs were clear outlined beneath her full breasts as those orbs were pulled up and apart, highlighting thief fullness.

Jacen flicked the button on his belt and the stretching stopped. Mara’s legs and arms were now pulled almost 15% further than they could stretch comfortably and the woman could not keep the pain from her face as he stared up at her. Jacen thought he had never seen Mara looking more beautiful hanging there, suffering helplessly but courageously. A tiny part of him found himself glad that this would not be over quickly.

‘Let the pain teach you, Mara,’ Jacen said. ‘I’ll be back…eventually.’

He turned to go, and heard Mara draw a rasping breath. ‘Take…your time,’ she gasped defiantly.

Jacen paused heading for the door, then glanced back. His right hand flicked down, and there was the galaxy-know snap hiss of a lightsabre activating.

The GAG commander seemed barely to move, but the humming energy blade he held cut through the remaining piece of Mara’s jumpsuit covering her lower abdomen, leaving the skin beneath untouched. The remains of her garments fell away, leaving her fully naked except for her boots and gloves. Mara grunted as the material floated to the floor, and Jacen allowed himself a lingering look at the trimmed copper strip of hair revealed, set above a soft pink crease between her legs that pouted with the stretching of the prisoners magnificent body. She looked across at him with her eyes full of green fire, but he simply gave a polite nod back, then left the room.

The door whirred closed behind him, leaving the only sounds in the chamber the ragged breathing of the suffering Jedi woman.

Part 2

Jacen Solo sat in his meditation chamber, seeking a place of calm as he prepared to do something he knew every one of the people he cared most for would condemn as the actions of a monster.

The thirty one year old Jedi had grown from a gawky teenager at the onset of the war against the alien Yuuzhan Vong into a handsome, muscular man, with brown hair much like those of his famous father Han Solo and his mother Leia’s thoughtful brown eyes. When he cared to, he could affect the lopsided grin that had been the Han Solo trademark for four decades and would have been guaranteed to make almost any human women in the galaxy feel a flutter of excitement.

Jacen did not care to use the smile much, these days.

For several months now, he had been the head of the special police for the Galactic Alliance, the government that had replaced the irredeemably flawed New Republic, which in its turn had replaced the evil Galactic Empire, the successor of the hopelessly corrupt Old Republic. It had become clear to Jacen that, if the galaxy were finally to know peace, someone would have to take matters in hand.

Not his Uncle Luke Skywalker though. Luke had trained Jacen and his brother Anakin Solo as his apprentices, just as Mara had trained Jacen’s older twin sister Jaina, but now years and experience had taught the younger Solo twin the limited nature of that training. It had been enough for a beginning, but Jacen knew now that it was not enough to bring about lasting peace to the sentient beings of the galaxy.

It had not even been enough to save Anakin’s life during the war.

Luke was too entrenched in the old ways of the Jedi. Jacen was prepared to embrace a different path. As a result, his uncle had begun to mistrust him, even though Luke’s own son Ben was learning the ways of the Force from Jacen when he had refused to understand them from anyone else.

And now he was holding Luke’s wife, Ben’s mother, in his interrogation chamber.

Jacen glanced at his chronometer. Mara Jade Skywalker had been enduring the ministrations of the chamber for almost four hours now. That would have been enough to break most normal human women and even some intelligence agents. But Mara was a Jedi – more, a Jedi Master. Even disconnected from the Force as she was by Jacen’s abilities, she would not be ready to tell him what he needed to know.

Yet.

Rising to his feet, Jacen moved to the doorway. Outside in the hall leading to the lift down to the detention level he found Lumiya waiting.

The Sith Lady appeared quite attractive, dressed in a black body suit with a red jacket top and high boots. Black gloves covered her hands. She wore a simple headband just wide enough to allow a net veil to fall about the bottom of her face, draping over full lips and strong jaw line while leaving her hypnotic eyes uncovered and giving her an exotic appearance. But Jacen knew that appearances could be deceiving, especially where Lumiya was concerned. He did not make the mistake of fully trusting her or her motives, an attitude which the Sith women not only accepted but encouraged.

Now she turned and fell into stride with him as he walked without hurry, keeping a step behind as she spoke. The Galactic Alliance Guard leader’s black cloak swept the floor behind him as he walked.

‘You are ready for this, Jacen,’ she stated calmly.

‘I know,’ he said, his voice without emotion. ‘But I take no pleasure in it.’

‘Really?’ she asked.

Jacen reached the lift and stopped. He pressed the button to summon the car and turned to face his teacher. ‘It is a necessity, nothing more.’

She smiled back. ‘As you say.’

The car arrived, and Jacen stepped inside. As the doors closed, Lumiya was looking at him thoughtfully. The he was descending into the depths.

***

Mara was so wet with perspiration she felt as if she had stepped from a warm spa pool, but she was much less relaxed.

Stretched between the four shackles about her wrists and ankles, every muscle in her limbs ached like it was being crushed in a vice. Her shoulders had felt like they might pop from their sockets at any moment for what must have been hours. Her sides burned and her spine was a long knotted strand of pain down her back.

Mara’s breathing came in short, pained gasps from between her lips. The mechanical arms had her held so taught that her lungs and diaphragm were being compressed, making it hard for her to get enough oxygen. Ordinarily she could have used the Force to make her lungs work more efficiently to compensate, but she was cut off from the energy field that gave the Jedi their most unique abilities.

Mara fought to control her trembling. She was not afraid, but she was sweating so heavily that her body had cooled to the point where she was actually feeling an irksome chill. She fought the sensation, trying to hold herself completely still but badly worn by the fatigue on her mechanical crucifixion. Mostly she tried because the shivering that resulted when she relaxed made the pain of the stretching even worse, but also because she did not want anyone watching her perverse ordeal on hidden cameras to think she was scared.

Jacen had had her whipped. The sense of betrayal was like a knife in her belly, twisting deeper and deeper, the pain growing more with time instead of less. She remembered the look on his face just before he had left earlier, just after he had cut away the last of her clothing to reveal the womanly thatch of copper between her legs. Her hands clenched into fists again, her hear hammering against her ribs. Mara had been the special assassin of the Emperor for the better part of a decade before his death at the hands of Darth Vader, but she had never been so close to succumbing to the lure of the dark side as right now.

The door opened with a sinister hiss and Jacen stepped through into the room. Without her Force powers Mara had had no warning of his approach but she managed to keep any surprise from her face.

The brother of her former apprentice stepped forward until he was again looking up into Mara’s boldly pretty face. ‘You’ve had some time to think about your situation,’ he said, and he might have been talking to her about the latest tabloid headlines in any small caf-shop. ‘Have you reconsidered?’

Mara shifted, her muscles knots of burning anguish. It was a struggle to keep the pain from her voice. ‘Yes,’ she replied simply.

Jacen’s eyebrows actually rose a shade. ‘Really,’ he said, sounding surprised but sceptical.

‘Yes’ Mara repeated, drawing in air slowly even though her body screamed to gulp it down as fast as she could. ‘At first I was going to let Luke or Leia take you down, but now I think I’d rather do it myself.’

Jacen’s eyes became serious again, hard. And cold. Mara had met plenty of interrogators during her service to the Empire and the brown eyes looking into hers now were as devoid of humour and compassion as any she had seen. ‘That’s a shame, Mara. It means that this is going to take longer than I would like. Definitely longer than you would like.’

Mara drew in another breath, and Jacen was aware, even without looking, of her breasts expanding, pushing slightly towards him. Her eyes flicked meaningfully down to the remains of her jumpsuit on the floor. ‘I think I’m learning a lot about what you like, Jacen.’

Jacen felt a twinge of anger at the condemnation in her voice, the implication that he was doing this for pleasure. But he stepped on the feeling. Instead he touched the button on his belt and the six mechanical arms around Mara shifted slightly, humming as they prepared to fulfil their function. ‘Please let me know the moment you feel like cooperating,’ he said with a tone of weary acceptance.

The arms were moving , three in front, three behind. Mara centred her concentration, trying not to anticipate. When she started to do that, Jacen would have her halfway beaten. She had to just exist, from one moment to the next.

An appendage came to within a few inches of her left tricep as her arm hung stretched by the shackles. There was a blue light and smell of ozone, and a flickering electric charge lanced from a conduit on the torture device to Mara’s flesh.

The pain was like a knife stabbed into the muscle, making the horribly torn tissues jerk and contract into a hard knot, ripping them even further. Mara twitched in her suspension and bit down a cry of pain, sucking in a breath through her nose and holding it as the charge went on for five seconds…ten…

The current stopped and Mara felt her arm go numb. She didn’t let herself feel relief; she knew that that small pain was only beginning. No sooner had the charge to arm cut off than another began on the back of her right leg, halfway between her knee and her shapely ass. She twitched again and her body strained forward instinctively, while Jacen stood staring up at her with a face like stone.

ZZZZZZNNNNNZZZZZZZNNNNN

‘Nnnnnnnnn!’

The current stopped; again Mara’s body relaxed as much as the tension of the hackles would allow. She shook her head to clear it, pursing her lips, shivering a little harder. Jacen could see that the pink nipples of her breasts were hard.

The next attack came from two different directions, one shocking her right calf above the top her boot while the other sent current coursing across her belly. Little sounds of pain spilled from her mouth and she was shivering hard enough now so that her breasts shook visibly, like smooth mounds of pink jelly. Her body shone under the lights like a metal sculpture, every muscle rigid as the power washed through her.

Mara felt the shocks shifting, playing over her physique with mechanical, unfeeling precision. Short searing bursts that made her twist and buck or sustained crackling sprays that caressed her like acid venom, eating its way into her nerves and setting them on fire. The devices moved around her continuously, a perverse dance with her at the middle, haloed in bright blue white lines of anguish.

‘GAAAA….damn it Jacen…AAAHHHH!!’

The bindings around her wrists and ankles must have relaxed a bit because she could feel her body moving sinuously, her twists and turns not hers to control as the pain jerked her like a puppet on mismatched strings. Power seared her back and down her spine and she arched her body, boobs pushed out and belly so tight it felt like it might have burst apart. As if drawn to those prominent orbs another probe sent a series of stuttering static flashes over there curving surface, bathing them in agony.

‘YAARRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!’

The scream burst out of her like a wild animal liberated from cage, primal and savage. Hundreds of steel skewers were lancing into the flesh of her chest, burning the twin mounds of her feminine nature from within. Two more jolts targeted her thighs and the exposed pink hole between her ass cheeks and she howled as she was impaled on the sizzling lines of electricity tearing its way over her and through her.

Jacen continued to watch the pain ebb and flow through his prisoner, both annoyed and impressed with Mara’s willingness to endure torment without cracking. The screaming was almost continuous now, and he could tell by the varying pitch and volume of her cries how much the machines were hurting her, when they were easing back just enough to allow her to remain conscious without giving her any real escape from the torment suffusing her. She pirouetted and contorted her body in its bindings, pain pushing her to the limits of what that toned and magnificently maintained woman’s form could do splayed out above him. The room smelled of ozone and female sweat

He saw the arcing surges skitter up her thighs almost to the narrow pink slit with its crown of burnished copper; heard Mara screaming as her legs bowed outwards and made the enticing crack part just a little wider. Then the power was racing up over her sides and around to her ass again and Jacen was aware of a twinge of disappointment, of frustration that the machine had not travelled that extra inch to target the discharge right over the red haired Jedi’s puckered womanhood.

The sparks were dancing across her breasts again, and Mara was shaking her head so that her red hair flew about like the mane of some jungle cat. Jacen felt something, that had begun to stir below his navel when he had seen Mara’s pussy come so close to feeling the current, grow stronger as he watched her tits being fried by the machines fingers of lightning. He gave a little start as he suddenly realised he had stopped thinking of Mara’s body in cold clinical expressions, had instead allowed himself to articulate his thought about her in raw, sexual terms. Her pussy, her tits. Right now, he was watching those still wonderfully shaped tits tremble and blue fire tear at Mara’s ribs and soaked into the hollow of her navel. Her belly sucked in to hollow curve as she screamed and quaked overhead.

‘You should talk now, Mara,’ he said, trying to ignore the voice in his head that desperately wanted her to stay quiet, stay stubborn. ‘This will only get worse for you.’

Mara’s only reply was a choked scream and three bolts of power converged on the space between her shoulders, making her convulse. Another low power discharge washed over her lovely face, bathing it in flickering light and prompting an open- mouthed shriek.

The Jedi woman didn’t know how long the torture had been going on now – whether minutes or an hour. Exhaustion dragged at her like lead weights on a swimmer but the terrible sting of the probes over and over kept her moving, shaking and gyrating in her bindings like a Twi’lek dancing girl in a Hutt pleasure den. Every muscle begged for relief; for some pause, however brief, in the pain eating away at her. Mara’s own screaming was a piercing torment for her ears, her brain pounding inside her skull as her athletes figure was a lean and supple mass of torn ligament, ripped muscles and cartilage, and skin burned by shock after searing electro-shock. Through the veil of agony that seemed to have fallen between her and everything in the universe that was good, she could hear Jacen talking, offering her a respite if she just admitted she had contacted someone about what she had found here.

‘Nothing to tell.. AAAA..AAAAAAAAIEEEEEEEEE!!!’

The arms were set on continuous discharge now, panning across the captive woman, painting her with suffering. The settings of the current were being modulated by the computer, Jacen knew, to keep her conscious as long as possible. But the suffering would be intense and without escape, even for a second. Mara’s red hair was damp with sweat and her exotic features haggard with anguish. He could hear sobs amid her howls and curses, and his member inside his black uniform pants firmed at the knowledge that he had made this women weep, had made her feel so much pain she cried openly, shaming herself and her Jedi honour. He felt filled with potential, with power, as if the defiant prisoner’s ongoing suffering were helping him to channel more of the Force, tap into it in new ways. Seeing the incredibly beautiful wife of his uncle spasming and wailing brokenly as her hips twisted and her body humped the air sent surges of exhilaration through him.

Luke’s wife – Luke did not trust him, thought he was greater in the Force than Jacen. But now he had something of Luke’s, and it was his to do with as he pleased. Mara yowled as bolts of lightning seared across her shapely ass and along her straining arms. She was sexy; smart and brave and beautiful to look at, and now she was completely in his power. Even her stupid refusal to tell him what he needed was something of his, and excuse to do this to her. Watching her body undulate in agony he found himself imagining what it would feel like to be touching her as moved like that, to feel her gasping breaths pushing her tits against him as he owned her completely.

‘Talk, Mara!’ he bit out, and the loudness of his voice was less about frustration now than excitement. ‘Tell me now and I won’t hurt you anymore.’

Mara kept screaming. Her gloved hands curved into grasping claws and the pain ripped through her. Tears were trickling from beneath the lashes of her tightly shut eyes.

The blood was pounding in Jacen, and he wet his lips. ‘Tell me now, woman,’ he growled. ‘End the pain. You know you want to. You will anyway, sooner or later. Say the words and it’s finished.’

‘I wont I WONT!’ Mara screamed, her voice cracking.

The electricity finally found its way between her legs

Wisps of smoke rise from the space around her pubis as some of the short copper hairs were burned by the current. Mara lifted her ass up to try and escaped, shrieking the whole time, but the bolts spat into her pink slit, highlighting it in flickering lightning. She threw back her head and her body twisted as if her spine were made of rubber.

‘AAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!’

She didn’t fall unconscious. The power kept flowing through her, making her into a thing of pain. The current attacked her sex and her breasts at the same time, like an evil lover. Her nipples were burning nubs of suffering on mountains of boiling blood and melting flesh, and the surges of energy ran up the tunnel of her womanhood and tore at her from within. With a savage wrench she felt herself dislocate one of her shoulders.

‘YOUBASTARDSTOPITSTOPITAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!’

Jacen watched his gorgeous aunt try to pull her legs closed, as if that would protect her from the agony. Naked and screaming she writhed in complete abandon, feeling everything he wanted her to feel, helpless to stop him. The current ran up the scale to the maximum of what a human woman could endure and held her there, pinioned on claws of energy that gripped her by her ass, her belly, her arms, her tit, her cunt! The red haired bitch vibrated in its grip with her mouth open in soundless wail – and then the scream was no longer soundless, bouncing off the walls like a sonic attack. Mara Jade Skywalker hung above him, and her tits bulged and her pussy was crackling with pain, and she screamed and screamed and screamed!

In the blink of an eye, the power cut off and Mara slumped like a broken doll, hanging unconscious in her bonds.

Jacen stood there looking at her, realising his own breath was coming in short panting gasps. He swallowed, feeling his pulse hammering and forcing it to slow as he came back to himself.

In unconsciousness Mara’s face had relaxed, but had not lose all trace of the pain she had felt. Her body glowed under the lights, soft and toned and inviting. He had failed – so why did he feel so…satisfied?

Not far away, Lumiya stood watching a screen that showed a view of the interrogation chamber. It was a long time this time before Jacen turned and again left the room.JaJ

Part 3

The Jedi knight lowered herself head-down from the edge of the emergency escape hatch. She was already certain that there were pressure pads hidden under the surface of the asteroids rocky ground near the hatch, and she was confident in her ability to create a sensor blind using her modified datapad to broadcast a false image directly into the door frames surveillance equipment. No one could see her.

That just meant she had to find a way to open the door without anyone inside knowing.

She frowned, blinking inside her pressurized suit as she hung suspended from the hook and line played out above her. The suit was almost body hugging, but still much more cumbersome than her usual Jedi robes. She could unhook her light sabre from her equipment belt and cut through the door of course, but she might have well have walked up to the main hanger of the base and announced her presence. The same went for cutting through the rock around the frame.

She needed to be sneaky, but fortunately, she had learned from the best.

Stretching out with her Force awareness, she sensed the connections that registered the open or closed state of the hatch. A break in the connections would alert those inside, so she had to trick them into thinking they were still receiving current.

She concentrated, feeling the energy running through the conduits. Focusing, she tapped into her anger and frustration at not being able to enter.

Tiny sparks appeared in her minds eye, the feeble sputterings of force lightning. It was a dark side power and the Jedi was loathe to use it, but perhaps this would be justified by the greater good.

She shook her head. That attitude had already cost her family a great deal, but now was not the time for doubts.

Using the force lightning she sent current coursing through the connections and then used the infiltration program on her data pad to crack the encrypted code and open the door.

It swung inward. There were no alarms, at least not ones she was aware of. Without hesitating, she swung herself inside the airlock and sealed the hatch behind her. Only then did she relax her concentration on the Force lighting and allow the normal flow of current to resume.

The airlock was small, a 5 foot square space with the ceiling 8 feet overhead. She was facing another hatch, also sealed. Beside the door were controls for pressurizing the space.

She didn’t touch them, knowing using them to fill the chamber with air would alert the base security computer. The hatch opened outwards away from her, and there was no easy way to open it from within by without pressurizing the space because of the atmospheric differential. Using the Force would probably have worked, but would have caused so much damage the noise was bound to be noticed. Instead, she disconnected her suits air supply and let precious oxygen bleed out into the space, only stopping when she began to feel light headed. She repeated the process twice more, and then there was enough atmosphere for her to remove her helmet.

The Jedi shook out her hair and moved to the doorway, setting to the task of cracking its encrypted locking code as well.

***

Lumiya found Jacen sitting in the room that displayed the interrogation chamber. The main screen was dominated by the view of the still unconscious Mara Jade Skywalker, while smaller screens around it showed the various part of her questioning so far from different times and angles. Jacen sat in a high backed chair with one leg up, his elbow resting on his knee and his chin against his knuckles.

‘I told you she would not break easily,’ the Sith Lady said.

‘And I told you I knew that,’ Jacen replied.

Lumiya came around in front of him and perched herself on the control panel, her legs out and her hands beside her. As usual, she affected a wrap around turban headdress that included a cloth across her lower face and left only her expressive eyes visible.

‘May I make an observation?’ she asked.

Jacen did not reply, but merely raised a curious eyebrow.

‘If you continue with her as you have done, you will fail.’

Jacen sniffed. ‘Perhaps you didn’t hear her during our last session. She almost broke.’

Lumiya shook her head. ‘Not even close. Your problem, Jacen, is that you’re holding back.

Again, Jacen did not respond verbally, but merely reached forward and flicked a switch. At once sound filled the room to match one of the screens.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

‘AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR…No…NO!!’

ZZZZZZZZZRRRRRRRRRRRRRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

‘EEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!’

Lumiya reached out with the Force and killed the audio feed. ‘I don’t mean your holding back from hurting her Jacen. I mean your holding yourself back – you’re keeping yourself in check. She can sense it and she will use it against you.’

‘You’re saying I should use my anger?’

‘Not anger,’ Lumiya said slowly. ‘Pleasure.’

Jacen’s frown deepened. ‘There is no joy to be had in this.’

‘You’re wrong,’ Lumiya insisted, and her eyes hardened. ‘Worse, you’re lying. You have already tasted the sweetness of power Jacen. This is just one more exercise in power, perhaps the most enthralling of all – the power of personally dominating another being, bending them to your will, forcing them to see the universe as we do, as we know it must be. ’

‘Through pain,’ Jacen said, his eyes hard. He shook his head. ‘That’s not what I want.’

‘Of course not, but it is something you will have to accept if you are to achieve your goals. Others will resist you, as Mara does, and they must be dealt with. If you limit yourself in doing these tasks, you give them the advantage. The true Sith does not limit their abilities with outdated moralizing. They revel in their destiny and embrace it fully.’

Jacen looked troubled, but much less than he would have been a short while ago. ‘You’re saying I should take pleasure in inflicting pain on others?’

‘I’m saying you should feel pleasure in achieving your desires, knowing they are noble. Guilt and shame only prolong suffering; yours,’ Lumiya nodded to the screen, ‘and hers.’

Jacen said nothing. Lumiya stood up, putting her hand on his shoulder briefly as she walked from the room and left him to ponder her words.

***

When Mara woke up she was in the same room, but her circumstances had changed. Not improved, but definitely changed.

The first thing she noticed was the absence of excruciating pain in her shoulders, arms and legs. All those areas, and every other part of her for that matter, still hurt, but the constant hellish torment of limbs stretched to just short of dismemberment was gone.

She didn’t open her eyes. Using the Force Jacen or Lumiya would know she was awake, but neither of them could be monitoring her all the time. Her best chance of escape was to overpower one of Jacen’s GAG troops who had been set to watch her, and for that, surprise would be a big bonus.

She allowed her body to tell her about her surroundings. She was still mostly nude – that caused a momentary despair, but she set it aside. She was seated in a metal chair with a high back, but which seemed to be mostly constructed of round struts with no frames in between. Her back was exposed to the air and her backside was pressed down into the gap where a typical chairs seat would be. The arms seemed to be made of the same kind of tubular metal fittings, and equipped with manacles that fitted around her wrists. She could feel that her legs were spread wide, uncomfortably so, and all the worse for the brutal wrenching her hips and thighs had already been subjected to. More manacles went around her ankles on the outside of the chair legs and kept her booted feet planted firmly against the floor.

Mara listened. The mechanical hum of the six torture arms was not present, and nor was any other noise. She was certain she was alone in the room.

She kept her eyes shut, feigning unconsciousness. After a few moments she heard the door hiss open and one set of booted feet enter. She remained perfectly still and relaxed as they stopped just inside her doorway, obviously watching her. Then the door closed again as the steps came nearer.

The man – she could tell by the spacing and weight of the footfalls – stopped just in front of her. It burned in Mara’s gut to let this creep stand there and look at her, trussed up like some Twi’lek sex slave, but she kept her emotions firmly under control. Look at how sexy she is, the haughty Jedi bitch all chained up and helpless. I suppose she never through she’d be in this position, did she. Bet she doesn’t even know what a REAL man is like – you could teach this stuck up Jedi whore a thing or to, couldn’t you?

A gloved hand reached out and came to rest on her head, pulling her face around. No doubt to make sure she was really out to it. Then the hand moved down to her neck, and slowly on down to the slope of her breasts. At the handling of her full curves Mara felt like screaming, but she made her self remain totally unresponsive.

Yeah, feel these you pervert. Feel good, don’t they? You can still see the marks from where your sick creep of a commanding officer had her whipped. Oh, both hands now – yeah you’re a real man, all right, groping an unconscious woman while she’s tied up and can’t fight back. Bet this is the first time in months you’ve touched a woman’s breasts without having to pay for it. That’s right, play with the Jedi sluts nice firm tits – mmmm squeeze them – aah, your pinching! Careful, you don’t want to wake her up. But she’d like it rough, wouldn’t she? Rough and hard, you letting her know who’s the boss. This is the best you’ve ever felt in your whole miserable pathetic little life, isn’t it? Right now your dirty little creep penis is throbbing like a pulsar thinking about getting inside this arrogant red haired slut. Fucking a she-Jedi against her will – that’s a dream come true, isn’t it? It’s the apex of you foul little fantasy life and she’s right here in front of you.

The man was standing close now, between her legs. Mara could sense his nearness, the excitement coursing through him. His leg brushed her thigh as he loomed over her. Then he stepped back a little. She was aware of him kneeling, one of his hands moving down her body. He felt her stomach, running his palm over the hard flat muscle and on down through the soft fuzzy copper crowning her womanhood.

A gloved finger pressed against her labia. It pulled softly, giving the fingers owner a view of the soft pink lips beyond. Then there were two fingers, gently opening her, a third edging forward to explore. She wanted to scream, rip herself out of the chair and break that hand off at the wrist, tear it off and choke him with it. But she stayed calm, focussed.

She was sure that he was going to penetrate her digitally, but instead the hand withdrew. She heard the soft sound of the man standing up, then unhooking something from his belt.

There was a hiss, and she felt as if her face had been thrust out through a portal into the middle of a Hoth blizzard. Stinging cold made her skin burn and she jerked back, snorting as the air going down her now froze in her lungs. She coughed and spluttered, shaking her head as frost formed and instantly began to melt on her cheeks and lips.

Knowing it was useless to try and feign unconsciousness now she opened her eyes, glaring at her assailant.

He was a little less than average height, dressed in a GAG trooper combat uniform of black cloth, but without the ceramic armour that looked like old-fashioned Imperial Stormtrooper armour sprayed black. He wore the suits face concealing black helmet, dark reflective transparisteel showing her a distorted reflection of her own features in the space where his eyes would be. She could tell by his stance and appearance he was well toned under the clothing, lean and muscular. As she looked up at him he tossed aside the spray can of diluted liquid CO2 used for fire-fighting and it clattered to the metal floor.

Mara blinked her eyes clear and smiled without humour. ‘Careful, Jacen; your men might hear you and come to find out what’s happening.’

It was a guess, but she was pretty confident in it. The man’s height and build were right, and she could not imagine the GAG commander being foolish enough to let common soldiers have authorized access to her like this. She had been gambling that some guard had decided to break ranks and sneak some fun for himself, maybe as payback for some simmering grudge against Jedi that she often ran up against, but the fact that this man had chosen to wake her up showed he wasn’t worried about his superior officers finding our about what he was doing. The most likely reason for that was that on this base he had no superior officers.

But the helmeted man gave no reply, except a slight change in his body language that suggested he was surprised with her statement but also relieved, like someone who finds out their crime has been blamed on another person. Could that mean that she had guessed wrong – or was it a trick by Jacen to make her think that?

The man stood looking at her, his helmet moving to let her know he was inspecting all of her. He rubbed together the fingers that had teased her naked quim.

‘Are you just going to stand there all day, or is there something you came here to do?’ she asked, a bit of impatience creeping into her tone.

The man still did not reply, obviously trying to unnerve her by his ongoing silent appraisal. It was a fairly standard interrogation ploy and Mara countered easily by shrugging her shoulder and turning her head away to examine the far wall, sighing as if she were merely bored.

They stayed like that for two minutes.

Mara wished she still had access to her Force powers, but whatever Jacen had done to suppress them was still affecting her. She wondered whether it was something he had to concentrate on, or whether it was something he had put in place and would last until he reversed it. Either way, there was no means for her to know for sure who was behind the black visor looking at her.

Finally the man moved. He reached around and touched a button a device around his wrist, and there was a soft hum as a panel opened in the floor beside him. A small table rose up smoothly through the open space, stopping at waist height to the black suited man and supporting a shallow metal tray arrayed with a half a dozen metal implements.

The man (Jacen, whoever) selected one and held it up. It looked like a primitive surgical scalpel, but there seemed to be some circuitry built in the round metallic handle. The man thumbed a button on one side of the grip and the two-inch triangular blade on the device started to glow a dull red.

Mara watched the blade heating up and stiffened a little. ‘Decided to get your hands dirty, Jacen? And here I though you were going to let your sick machines have all the fun!’

The man said nothing but reached our and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back. She winced but made no sound of pain as he kneeled down in front of her and moved the heated blade towards her face.

Mara watched the blade come closer, her eyes hard. There was the tangy scent of heated metal and she could feel the warmth of the blade on her cheek, but she looked at if fearlessly. Only the merest twitching of her mouth and eyes showed how aware she was of what he could do to her.

The blade dipped as he shifted his grip slightly and reached down towards her midriff.

Mara struggled, but there was nothing she could do. When the blade was an inch from her skin she could feel the heat, like a sharp prickle. She made sure she controlled her breathing and stayed calm. This was only pain – she could handle pain.

The blade reached out and gently glided over the skin of her belly.

She gasped, sucking in her gut. The anguish was intense, like her skin was being peeled away. There was a hiss and she smelt her own burned flesh. The man let go of her hair and instead grabbed one of her legs. Balling her gloved hands into fists she held herself still and watched him steadying himself, moving the blade in so that it touched her again and made a slow line running across her middle.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Mara made a low, tight lipped sound of pain, grimacing and clenching her teeth as the hot metal cut her. A line of torment traced from one side of her abdomen to the other, the skin parting as a bright red burn line. There was little blood because the heat cauterized the wound as it cut, but the pain was intense. When the knife drew away, the torment remained undiminished.

‘Damn you, Jacen…,’

The man, as usual, didn’t answer. The next cut was vertical, tracking the line of her muscled from her sternum down towards her navel. Then he made a lazy circle around her belly button, making sure he kept the blade pressed to her suffering flesh as she twisted and gasped, trembling in the chair as he cut her.

‘MMMMMMNNNNNNN!’

Mara kept her booted feet pressed firmly against the floor, her legs trembling slightly as she kept her body steady. Her fingers worked in twisting, clawing shapes as the cuts travelled over her bound body, but she kept her lips pressed tight together, stifling the sounds of pain she instinctively wanted to make. She felt the hot metal cutting into her right thigh and jerked hard, closing her eyes and willing back the little tears that wanted to spill down her cheeks as the sensitive skin blistered along the incision. He made the cut three inches long, then he made a duplicate on the opposite leg as his lovely prisoner blew out hair to stifle her screams and her nubile body shook in the chair frame.

The man in black stepped back and looked down at her as she panted in the chair. She could feel the hot stickiness of blood on her skin around the incisions, and the constant feeling of searing heat. He had cut just deep enough to make sure the pain receptors in her skin received maximum stimulation.

The man shut off the heat to the blade and put the scalpel down. When Mara looked up at him, he was picking up what looked like a set of workman’s pliers, simple hand operated tools designed to grip using a set of flat metal jaws each as long and wide as her thumb. Stepping round behind her he grabbed her hair and again hauled her head back, as far as it would go this time. Mara felt her stomach tighten as she was stretched back, bringing fresh suffering to the cuts on her belly.

The pliers appeared in front of her face, carried down by the gloved hand holding them. Unable to move her head she could only follow with her eyes, struggling with all her strength but rendered helpless by the shackles that gave her no room for leverage. The metal jaws came down and touched the skin of her breasts as they rose and fell.

‘Sithspawn…,’ Mara hissed, still struggling.

The jaws pushed into the curve of her chest, halfway between the topmost line of the swelling sphere and the coin sized pink button at its crest, the skin trapped between the flat heads of the grips. Then those grips started to close, tightening around the softness between. Tighter and tighter, until it went from pressure to pain…then more pain.

‘Dammit!’

Tighter and tighter. Worse and worse. It felt like her whole being was being pulled slowly into that spot on her breast, like it was a gravity well of pain sucking her down. The throbbing suffering radiating from it spread outwards in pulsing waves as she moaned and fought.

‘Stop it, Jacen! Damn it, stop!!’

He didn’t. The jaws closed until there was barely a half and inch between them, and a trickle of blood testified to the skin breaking under the relentless compression. Then they closed some more.

‘GAAAAAAA!’

Mara’s eyes were shut tight and her red mouth was stretched back in a grimace of pain. Her hands gripped the ends of the chair arms like claws. The pliers gave a quarter twist and she cried out, legs braced.

‘AAAAAARRRR…YOU RODDER!’

He pushed the jaws hard into her chest, the fulsome mound bulging around the tool in her had. He pushed hard enough to feel her rib cage and squeezed so hard it felt like the flesh was being ground to red pulp. Mara’s head shook side to side and she bucked in the chair, sweat running down her body. Her breasts trembled and her scream was piercing.

‘AAAAIIIIEEEEEEE!’

She could feel his helmeted head next to her face, watching the damage to her breast and the way she was shaking, struggling. He twisted the jaws back the other way, then pulled them outward, dragging the captured tit meat with it.

‘AAA! AAAHH! AAAHHHHH!’

The pressure vanished. The jaws were in front of her face again, only now they were wet with blood. She tried to breathe around the pain in the left side of her chest, gulping air like she had run a marathon.

The pliers moved again, this time coming down on her right nipple.

‘NO!’ Mara tried to pull free, heaving with all her strength. Rationally she knew it was hopeless, that he could do whatever he wanted and there was no way to stop him, but she couldn’t just sit there – she had to fight! She could hear his breathing inside the helmet, fast and shallow. Excited.

‘You sick son-of-a-Hutt! NO!’

He didn’t keep her in suspense this time, jamming the flat jaws hard around the pink nubbin and clamping savagely, crushing it in the steel hard grip.

‘YAAAAAAAAAAAAA! UN-UHH-AARRRRRRRRRR!!!’

Mara’s breast felt like it was bursting, like it had swollen to twice its size and was ready to explode. She leaned forward and screamed while her long legs kicked hard, shrieking in agony. He let go of her head and grabbed her other tie as he kept crushing her nipple, blood running down her body from where he was mutilating her breast. His hand twisted the other breast as he kept up the torture, the pain from that bruised and bloodied orb adding to volume to her screams.

The pain kept going and going, until Mara could not even think about anything about how much he was hurting her. Without the Force to provide a buffer between her and the torture all she could do was feel it all. If the pain had been a gravity well before, now it was a black hole, tearing her to pieces and crushing her into a single point on the peak of her breast where nothing could exist except constant inescapable agony. The only thing that could escape the terrible pull was the desperate venting of her anguish through the ear-splitting howls ripping out from her gaping, full-lipped mouth.

‘YAAAAHHH! EEAAAA…AAAAA…AAAAAAIIIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRR!!!’

When he let go of her nipple, she fell forward in the chair, dragging in air with deep, sobbing gasps.

He walked around in front of her while she slouched in the seat, shivering. Her boob felt like it was being pounded over and over again with a hammer. She heard the soft clatter of her torturer putting down the pliers in the tray and picking up something else. She did not look up, blinking back tears in her green eyes and gathering her strength.

‘Really…feeling it now…aren’t you Jacen?’ she panted. She looked up at him, shaking hair out of her eyes as it hung like a copper veil about her face. ‘Come on, Colonel,’ she sneered. There was nothing but contempt in that fierce emerald gaze, and her tone was thick with pain but also with mocking. ‘You’re only getting started, little boy. Show Aunt Mara everything you want!’

As always, the man in black said nothing, but held up his latest tool, thumbing the on switch so that it gave a soft, warbling buzz.

PART 4

This chapter may end up posted twice because of the interruption to the regular postings. If so, it contains a few extra paragraphs that were not included in the first posting. Thanks for the support from all the SW fans that have messaged me and given reviews, and everyone reading who is not a SW fan but likes the story for itself. Enjoy all.

-DarthSaad

Lumiya paced down the corridor, her mind buzzing with possibilities. Jacen was close to achieving the status of Sith Lord. He needed only to take the final step to separate him forever from the mundane teachings of the Jedi Order and propel him to his true, glorious destiny.

The disciple of the dark side was not sure exactly what was require, but she was sure that Mara Jade Skywalker was somehow involved in it. They needed to know whom she might have given information to, of course, but more importantly, her protégé needed to test his limits and go beyond them – to prove he was willing to do whatever was needed to achieve his goals.

A true Sith.

And yet, Lumiya was sure that it was more than that. The Sith prophecy she had revealed to Jacen at the start of his training indicated that he must “immortalize his love”. Both of them had taken that to mean kill. Certainly he must love Mara as a relative, but the Sith lady was sure that there must something beyond just…

Suddenly the Force was screaming at her, practically picking her up and tossing her aside as her danger sense kicked into overdrive and cybernetic limbs instinctively propelled her backwards. The lightsabre passed within inches of her face – had she been a split second slower and her body would have fallen apart in two neat pieces.

Lumiya danced away, ripping her lightwhip from her belt and snapping the weapon to red glowing life even as the Jedi came on. Her attacker had succumbed to a brief instant of anger as the attack came, but that had been enough to send ripples through the Force that would warn an adept of the dark side. Clearly, this Jedi had not had enough practice in fighting dark side users.

That was about to change.

***

The man in black lowered the buzzing implement and inspected his handiwork.

Between Mara’s wide spread thighs, the copper red curls above her pubis had been neatly shaved away, leaving her mons smooth and hairless, glowing a soft red from the attention of the razor. The soft slit of her woman hood now beckoned like an unveiled siren, the bright pinkness within peeping out from behind the crease of flesh.

Mara stared up at the helmeted figure, still slouched a little in the chair. Her breast still throbbed horribly from where he had crushed her nipple with the pincers, but she was focussing past it.

‘Are you getting a good look, Jacen? Maybe you should get a medical droid in here to explain all the different parts to you.’

He still didn’t respond, while Mara felt her own control slipping just a little. She found herself wondering if he could still read her emotional state through the Force, even though she had been made unable to access it. She hated the feeling of helplessness that was washing over like a rising flood, even as the she realised that had to be part of the plan.

Cut a Force user off from the Force – variation on a standard interrogation technique. Take the subject out of their safety zone, make them feel lost and disoriented. Apply pressure to increase their distress until they crack. Well, not this time, Colonel.

The helmeted man was picking up something from the tray – actually several somethings. At first, they looked like some sort of elaborate clothes pins, about four inches long and with a jewelled head at one end and a wicked little point at the other. As he brought them closer she could see that the heads were actually some kind of stone, about half an inch wide and coloured dark orange with flecks and streaks of black. Even without her Force awareness, the thing screamed out Sith.

The man reached down and ran the round stone of one of the pins over Mara’s cleavage, tracing the curve of her breast. She breathed in little fits, struggling to keep her fear in check. She tried not to visualize what that sharp point being pushed into her tit.

He didn’t though. He knelt down in front of her, between her spread legs. The freshly shaven swell of her womanhood lay as a soft crease in the space girded by her tapered thighs. Without thinking she tried to pull back, but her tight restraint only allowed her to move a few inches before she came up against the back of the chair.

The man in black leaned in, his faceplate less that a hand-span from her intimate flesh. The needle was poised in one hand and he moved it to one side of the slit of her labia, pushing it against the shaven skin and exerting pressure.

The sharp point pierced her almost instantly, sliding into her body. It was painful, but not intensely so; no worse that any nasty needle in a sensitive spot. He kept pushing until the stone head touched her skin and she kept her mouth tight shut, body still and tense.

Mara held herself perfectly still, knowing that movement would make the metal move inside her and cause more pain. He was already pushing the second needle into her from the other side, doubling the pain between her legs. She curled her hands into fists and grit her teeth, her breathing fast and shallow. He twisted the needle as he drove it slowly into her flesh, deliberately trying to hurt her as much as possible.

By the time the third needle started to bite into her at the meeting point of her leg and her groin Mara was making little sounds of discomfort and panting softly. The matching pin of the other side saw her moan and tug at her binding, whispering venomous curses against Jacen and giving lurid descriptions of the painful and humiliating way he would die.

For the fifth needle he used his gloved fingers to open her labia and pry back her outer lips, revealing the soft pink petals of her womanhood. The red haired Jedi seethed with furious shame, pulling at the bindings round her wrists and jerking wildly despite the fresh hurt it brought her. ‘You sick kriffing little slime!’ she spat. Ignoring her, the torturer pushed on the metal sliver, driving it into her inner quim until it found resistance from her pelvic bone.

‘Aaarrrrrrrrrrrr!’

Mara’s head was forward on her chest, sucking in air. He worked the needle around, the point grinding along the bone, not stopping until it was fully inserted with the head pressed tightly against her pussy wall. Then he took another and began to do the same on the other side.

‘Stang! Kill you…NO!’

The needle went in as easily as the others, the torment in her womanhood growing to a continuous nightmarish suffering. There were six needles shoved into her female centre now and he was reaching for another, aiming for the top of her cleft and pulling back the little flap of skin that hid the soft pink button that Luke had shown so much attention over the years.

Mara’s face was a pale mask of pain. She wanted to lose control, to scream, but she forced herself to remain silent. He could torture her body but he could not touch the real her, the essence of her. She kept telling herself that, knowing that the thing that ultimately defeated an interrogation victim was despair.

The nub moved under the man’s thumb and a jolt went through the Jedi Master. Her pussy was awash with anguish and every sensation was magnified a hundred fold. She closed her eyes and tried uselessly not to think about how much pain she would be in when the needle was sinking into her clitoris.

But as with her thought of the needles piercing her rounded breasts, it didn’t happen. Instead, the point found a spot a hairs breadth from the fleshy nub and then thrust inwards, paralleling the nerve without piercing it.

‘GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!’

Even without going directly into her clit, the pain was horrible. Mara’s whole body spasmed and shook, continuing even after he had finished. She dragged in a breath behind her dancing breasts and screamed, biting down on the sound and tossing her head back, holding her breath. Sweat ran down her chest and her dancers legs. When she let the air out of her lungs it burst out as a whine of pain as she legs shook uncontrollably.

She could feel the cold head of the pin next to her clitoris, and then his fingers opening her again and another pin pricking her on the other side.

‘NO! DAMN YOU, DON’T…DON’T YOU DO IT!!’

The helmet head tilted up and met the blazing fury of her green eyes as she stared down at him. Perspiration ran down over her lovely angular face and her red hair was plastered to her forehead and cheeks. Still looking up at her he pushed slowly.

‘AH! AH! AARRRRRRHHH! NO! AAAIIEEEEEE!!!!!’

She was out of control, tossed on a raging storm of agony. Defiance and pain were all she knew, all she was. Her entire existence as a Jedi, as a sentient being, and as a woman, were stripped down to the opposing instincts of not surrendering and screaming her lungs out. Long fingers clawed at the air and her head was arched back, ribs standing out against her skin, her belly an inward curve as her breasts swelled upwards.

‘STOP IT! I WONT TALK, BASTARD! AAARRRRRRRR! NO NO NO NO!!’

Mara could not remember anything good, anything that was not attached to suffering. The pain was a circle of razor sharp metal driven into her pubis; like the mouth of a giant leechlike thing whose fangs tore at her as it sucked the light from her soul through her tortured sex and spat back toxic, burning bile. She was sobbing openly and she didn’t even care, if only the agony would stop for a moment.

She was vaguely aware of the movement in front of her, but it took her long moments to claw her way back far enough from the abyss of pain. When she managed to open her eyes she could see the black suited man standing again, still looking at her implacably from behind the tinted visor. But his suits pants had been unfastened at the groin.

A human penis sprang from the opening, just over six inches of iron hard girth pointing jutting proudly forth as Mara was tortured naked in front of him. He used one hand to fondle the purple head of the shaft as he stepped even nearer, looming over her.

Mara struggled, fighting shock. She had heard, during her time as the Emperor’s Hand, of female prisoners being delivered for use by Stormtrooper garrisons, but at the time she had been able to convince herself that it was disinformation spread by the Rebellion to undermine faith in the government. It was years later when she had finally been confronted of the indisputable truth of the Empires wanton abuse of female captives. But now, to be confronted by the horrible reality of it…for all her training, all her experience, Mara felt her mind numb, as if she could not process that this was actually about to happen to her.

The man in black leaned even closer, blocking out the light overhead. She felt the round tip of his shaft brush the intimate flesh of her body.

The gently nudge of his member against her womanhood roused Mara from her shock. ‘NO!’ she shouted, wrenching wildly back and forth in her bonds so her copper hair flew about her face, her body quivering with strain. ‘Get the kriff away from me!!’

Without the slightest reply the man reached out and grasped one of her bruised breasts, using it to pull himself even closer. His cock bounced off the opening of her sweet slit as she moved side to side, fighting to deny him entrance to her. Mara watched the engorged phallus push up to the opening of her sex again and again, as if this were a depraved game they were both playing.

‘Sick…you sick piece of Hutt shit…’

As if tiring of the one sided fun, the torturer let go of her boob and moved his hand again to her groin. The needles through her flesh were aching as Mara twitched her body to keep it away from the monster penis threatening to violate her. Moving his hand the man in black clutched her pubic mound with the palm of his hand, his digits flitting over several of the needle heads protruding from Mara’s skin.

The wife and mother flinched at the touch, mouth twisted in disgust.

Without warning pain flared in Mara’s flesh, electrical anguish blazing through her woman’s centre and crackling out along her nervous system, making her scream in pain.

‘GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…AAA…EEAAAAAAAAHHHH!!’

The terrible energy ripped at her for half a minute as she howled and thrashed, ribs taught against her lean body and shapely tits shuddering with their nipples stiff and shining. The crease of her sex flexed and puckered as her body humped the air, so hard her ankles threatened to snap as her athletic legs jerked and pumped. Then the agony stopped as abruptly as it had begun.

With a sobbing gasp the stunning red haired warrior slumped back, her muscles twitching as her nervous system struggled to recover, while the rampant cock of her tormentor hovered over her cleft like a serpent poised to strike.

PART 5

Mara fought to try to regain her senses, her nerves still raw from the electrical surge that had flooded through her. There was no doubt of the origin of the crackling energy that had radiated from the needles piercing the mound and lips of her womanly flesh.

Force lightning. Dark side power.

The red head shook damp hair from her eyes. Her hands balled into fists as she glared venomously at the helmeted figure she was sure was Jacen, standing there ready to violate her. The figure eased forward and again the head of his penis pushed against her shaven snatch, seeking to worm its way inside her.

‘Pig!’ Mara spat, pulling back the small space allowed by the chairs restraints.

The word was barely from her lips when blue-white agony again surged through her womanhood.

‘YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!’

Mara’s scream was raw and primal, a thing from the dawn of humanity. Her breasts quivered as she shook in the bonds, twisting back and forth to try and somehow escape the pain. Arcs of force energy sprang out from the needle heads and roved over her body, burning her nerves wherever they touched. The flickering fire seemed to light her vagina from within, searing outwards like streamers of hellish flame. Her body slammed up and down in the chair, stomach twisting so hard that she felt it might burst inside her. She was screaming and writhing in anguish, her nubile body moving like that of a crazed slave-dancer.

‘AAAAAAH! AAAEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHH!!’

The pain ceased and the Jedi crashed back into the chair. The room sounded with her dragging in deep, gulping breaths of oxygen to replace the air driven from her lungs by the force of her screams.

The man stood over her, and even with the helmet and most of his black uniform disguising him there was no hiding the excitement in his body, the anticipation. The cock outthrust from his crotch quivered, a bar of solid pink flesh tipped with moisture as he put his hands on Mara’s thighs and made a sudden lunging move with his hips.

The gorgeous ex-assassin grunted as she felt the contact, the pressure on her labia jerking her back to awareness. But before she could do anything the glistening perspiration on her mons had betrayed her, giving his phallus the lubrication it needed to slip into the moistened cleft and push in as far as the pink nether lips.

‘Gah! No…dammit, NO!’

With an air of desperation, Mara renewed her struggle, fighting with every bit of strength she had left. Like a cornered animal she twisted and screamed, denying with every fibre of her being that this could be allowed to happen. She was a Jedi master, a warrior, a hero.

It made no difference.

The electrical fire burst forth again, and when it hit her it was like talons that seized deep into her body and dragged her forward onto the rampant cock, impaling her. Her head was cast back and she was screaming and crying, feeling the man in her, deeper with every convulsive movement, and she didn’t even know if the lightning was searing him as well. All she could think as his hips slammed against hers and her breasts shuddered before him was Luke, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!

The pain stopped and she could breathe again. She felt him moving inside her, a steady, sharp rhythm. Gloved hands here on her hips pulling her onto him as he raped her, his helmeted eyes fixed on the point were her flesh parted to allow him into her sex. Despite the slickness of her skin she was still dry inside and as the pain of the charge faded she could feel another pain, the pain of her dry channel being forced by the mans engorged shaft as she he burrowed into her thrust by thrust.

Mara closed her eyes, trying to use her mental disciplines to escape the horror of it. She fought her instinct to resist, conserving her energy. The man’s penis was a ram battering its way towards her cervix but she focussed her concentration, building a wall of non-awareness around her. Her body moved to the momentum of the man in her, muscles relaxing…

Pain! Blinding pain that made her howl, as the wall was shattered and swept away by the dark force maelstrom ripping at her quim. She was yowling again and pushing back, hands and feet splayed as far as they could go, and this time there was no doubt the man felt the pain as well. His body stiffened as the power arced across him, burrowing through the suit. The two of them spasmed in a twitching union of suffering. The fire in her pussy consumed him as well, his prick in the centre of paradise and damnation.

Again it stopped. Mara’s head lolled to the side as she sobbed and grunted. Either because he was not weakened by hours of torture or he was somehow less susceptible to having his genitals blasted with thousands of volts of power, the man resumed his thrusts almost immediately, pushing hard and straight into her love canal. Seeing her staring into space his gloved hand grasped the lank red hair of her head and dragged her face around to look at him drilling in and out of her. His cock was slick and shining now, her body responding instinctively to shame her. She felt hot and she was literally soaked in sweat, her perspiration wetting the front of his uniform as he leaned over her, changing his movement from deep thrusts to hard forceful rutting motions.

Please..let it stop Mara thought desperately, teeth clenched. She felt dirty, unclean. The man swivelled his hips with his cock was buried deep inside her, milking the pleasure of her rape.

‘Bastard,’ she whispered, the note of defiance still audible in her cracked voice. It was the only thing she had to resist him as her body lay open to him, immobilized and totally vulnerable.

As if her words spurred him to greater passion, his plunging moves into her quim became faster, more forceful. The wet impact of flesh on flesh sounded through the room as Mara’s tight ass jerked in the metal chair.

The lightning flared again, keeping time with the brutal thrusts. Mara cried out piteously as she felt her pussy burning and the rapist joined her, his grunting moans from behind the helmet visor the first sound he had made. The female Jedi’s lithe body undulated against him as she moved in pain and his hands roamed over the curves of her breasts and hips, clutching the power-seared flesh and redoubling his victim’s anguish. Mara smelled the acrid odour of scorched flesh and knew if there had been any hair left on her tortured sex it would be burning now. And still the beast on top of her moved inside her, driven to a frenzy by his pain and her lust, pushing his cock so deep into her that the blue fire playing along his shaft was carried all the way to Mara’s cervix and beyond.

‘OH STANG STOP…AAAAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEAAAAAAAAARRRHHHHH!!!!!’

With a strangled cry the man heaved, spasming hard from the depths of his body, Through the hell of sizzling agony Mara felt the gush of fluid into her depths, filling her with wet, pungent shame. He pulled back and boiling white liquid splashed over her thighs as her rammed back in again, pumping every drop her could up into the Jedi woman’s womb.

For half a minute there was nothing but violently flashing light and the cries of the pair; man and woman, rapist and victim. Gradually the man’s movement became less urgent as he spent himself in Mara’s belly, the fire of the Sith dying as his own fire ebbed. He lay on top of the beautiful prisoner as she sobbed quietly, unable to find the strength to try and push him off her.

After another minute the man stood, his softening cock sliding easily out of the red heads sodden pussy. White cum dripped from the bottom of her cleft in evidence of his passion for the event. He wiped his semen-coated knob on her thigh and eased the sated member back into the suits pants, securing them as he stepped back.

Dimly Mara was aware of a gloved hand lifting her chin to make her look again at the masked face. She breathed in broken gasps, mouth slack and eyes dull as she tried to focus. For a moment they just looked at each other. Then the hand pulled away and Mara’s head fell forward as her black suited violator left the room without a word.

Only after the door closed behind him and she was alone in the chair did Mara left herself weep softly.

***

The door to the observation room above opened and the black suited figure stepped in. As the portal hissed closed, gloved hands lifted the helmet free.

Jacen shook his hair back, the dark brown strands as damp with sweat as Mara’s own copper tresses. Despite the environment regulation system in the helmet he was perspiring heavily, and he blinked his eyes several times as he stood in the room finding his centre.

I did it. I actually did it. The knowledge surged through him, filling him with a new sense of being.

I raped Mara!

The words roiled in his mind like winter thunder. All his training in the ways of the force seemed like the base of some mighty edifice which was now capped by the actuality of the deed. He felt flushed with power and sense of invincibility.

Closing his eyes he felt again the firmness of her body combined with the feeling of conquest as he took her forcefully, masterfully. He smiled – she was a Jedi Master, yet he had mastered her!

I am your master now, Mara. Not Luke, not yourself.

You are mine!

Lumiya had been right. Freed of any sense of restraint or limitation Jacen felt his abilities take a leap forward, punching through old preconceptions to another level. The sheer potency of the experience threatened to overwhelm him and he practiced the meditation techniques he knew, forcing his physiology to slow down so that he could assimilate the freshly tapped potential within himself.

As if sensing his thoughts about her, the door opened to let the Sith women walk into the room, heels clacking on the metal floor. She regarded Jacen’s dishevelled appearance impassively, then turned to let her eyes take in the state of Mara Jade as shown on the view screen. She smiled slightly, then turned back to her apprentice. ‘How was it,’ she asked simply.

Jacen pondered his answer for a moment. ‘Freeing,’ he replied at last.

Lumiya nodded. ‘That is as it should be. You are understanding at last Jacen. Limit yourself, and you limit your achievements.’

Jacen breathed deeply, drinking in his new understanding, than noticed that Lumiya too looked dishevelled. His eyes hardened. ‘There has been trouble.’

‘A little,’ the Dark Lady answered. ‘But it has opened up another wonderful opportunity.’

Jacen looked at her questioningly, but rather than speak she gestured to the doorway. It opened again and a R5 model astrodroid trundled in, a manipulator arm extending from its body just below its almost cylindrical head to pull an antigrav platform. There was a person strapped to the platform, lying unconscious.

Jacen’ breath caught in his throat as Lumiya watched him intently.

In one brief glance Jacen took in the features of the person on the gurney – the short but athletic frame, the finely boned features, the dark tousled hair. The woman’s curving chest rose and fell gently as if she were merely sleeping, but the bruise on her jaw spoke of the true reason for her lack of awareness. The tight fitting flight pressure suit was cut and torn in several places from the obvious struggle, and the belt girding her narrow waist had it holster empty and the clip for her lightsabre hanging free. But Jacen’s eyes lingered only on the beautiful face of the prone woman; younger than Mara’s it was a face her knew as well as he knew his own.

Jaina Solo.

Jacen’s twin sister.

Star Wars: A Legacy of Force

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