Title: Jaxxon's Twi'leks 24-- Moving On
author : helgaleena helgaleenas@yahoo.com
Series: post-TPM
Rating: NC-17
Category: het
Warning: interspecies, prostitution
Disclaimer: Lucas is god of Star wars and owns everything; I am nothing
Summary: the continuing story of Jaxxon and Quinlan Vos.
More on Jaxxon at web-strip Jaxxon's 11 at theforce.net
http://www.jaxxons11.com
previous episodes: http://www.livejournal.com/users/hl
"Master Tholme isn't coming. He's in a bacta tank again, on Coruscant. We have absolutely no reason to remain here, thank the Force."
"So what next, partner? Coachelle at last?" Jaxxon' ears had swiveled like a satellite array at the news, as Quinlan Vos dropped into the co-pilot's station next to him.
"Sorry, not yet. We need to visit Ryloth again. Aayla has a lead."
The lead had come from the mind of a spectator, during one of Lenara and Lana's performances at Ree's. Aayla was stationed there most nights, monitoring the local stim trade, and playing the protective girlfriend whenever a customer was annoying one of Jaxxon's cadre of beauties, plying their chosen profession. Those not inclined to be polite, simply due to the paternal gaze of the elderly Twi'lek proprietor, often found a bright blue knee slammed into their nether regions, with little or no warning. But most of the time she kept in the background, scanning unobtrusively the moods and upper thoughts of the spacers, desperate for entertainment on parochial Kiffex.
It was in a tipsy Devaronian's mind, temporarily disarmed by Lenara's superficial facial resemblance to his own kind. Kh'ariss Fenn preferred his own sex-- this Devaronian did not. A good female should be furry and domineering--the disgust at what he had been offered by the greenish noble temporarily superimposed his dissolute face upon hers, as she danced. It gave Aayla the inroad she needed, to scan for what the Twi'lek scion of clan Fenn might want from this smuggler.
She and her master, Quinlan Vos, had come here on a lead from a known animal smuggler, Garris Shrike. He was transporting energy spider larvae here, of that they had been certain. But they had been unable to locate Shrike himself. If his craft had indeed set down on this moon, it had been in one of the interdicted areas, that they could not scan without the spymaster, Tholme.
But here, in this one's mind, was the phrase-- //Fenn can get his own eggs...unnatural inbred wormhead...let clan Secura keep their market, why should I care?// It was known that the Fenn and Secura clans were allies on Ryloth's ruling council, but bitter rivals in the clandestine animal and slave trades. It sounded to Aayla as if glitteryll, too, was about to be added to their spheres of contention.
When she discussed it with Master Vos, he confirmed it-- Ro Fenn's playboy son, Kh'ariss, was known to use glitteryll to mind-wipe his pleasure slaves when he tired of them. He was after his own source, what clan Secura already had--energy spiders.
The risk of returning to Ryloth, after nearly being killed by clan Secura on their last visit, was somewhat mitigated by their deciding to travel straight to Kala'uun Spaceport, which was under the control of their competitors, clan Fenn.
When they discussed it with Lady Lenara Olan, she was jubilant. If this Kh'ariss was stupid enough to proposition a Devaronian, a race attracted to fur, he probably had a taste for Lethan coloration, like hers. Either she or Lana would be certain to catch his eye, which meant possibly plying credits, as well as notoriety, from a young heir. And the audience in this backwater was definitely undeserving of her artistry. She could hardly wait to leave the haunted moon.
So his Kiffar partner, the secret Jedi with the unhappy history, wasn't the only one glad to be getting away.
Meena had gotten bored with the place pretty quickly, too, and spent more and more of her time going through Foot's library, teaching herself things. It had never occurred to him before, that many former slaves had no education. Even Oni couldn't note down the tunes she performed. It had thrilled Meena to key out her own name, in Aurabesh, and print it on a flimsy. She put it with her treasures. And seemed glad that they'd soon be in orbit, away from interruptions to her holoviewing. Well, she had a lot to catch up on. Technically, she was only three years old. Little Rena seemed like her mother, sometimes...
Surprisingly, Niala decided to stay with her conquest, Ree. And if Niala stayed, so did Oni; they were closer than kin, after all. The little cadre of Jaxxon's Twi'leks would be reduced to four, before he'd even set course for the target market, his home system. But they were free beings, who must follow their hearts. And those two were so sweet about it! Oni had come to tell him in person.
Just to make certain he was not too sad about their desertion, she'd shoved him into the supply cupboard door and packed him into her capacious self for a goodbye shag, full of dewy smiles. "Niala and I needed you to understand," she'd cooed in her matchless voice. She'd lifted one leg and wrapped it around him quite casually, so that his hand came up to steady it almost by reflex, her gaze holding his so gently he almost didn't notice his zipper sliding down. She eased his only garment away like a wisp of troublesome fog that had barely been there to begin with. Her talented hands ghosted over the fur on his ribs just solidly enough to make it stand on end.
"Remember, my friend, you and I are the holy color." The green club? That made him grin, and lick the tip of her nose.
He used his claws to tickle the bare foot of the leg twined round him, and gave a thrust like a bantha, to shake her tree and set her pendulous breasts swaying. Her lekku curled round his shoulders, and he could feel the toes of her other foot digging into the fur of his own big, bare feet. They swayed together like saplings in a breeze, her lekku not quite touching his ears, this one last time. His hands almost idly stroked across her limbs and played over her nipples as she moved herself upon him. The climax he teased out of her, and she out of him, was like a ribbon around the present they gave to each other. This is how a fuck-buddy should be, he thought... Nothing too deep, just mutual admiration.
"Kia'lekki will keep you safe," she'd murmured, after shimmying up him high enough to kiss his nose, afterward. He was still smiling as he peeled off the barrier and tossed it out. What a ray of happiness she was. Kiffex didn't deserve her.
Next stop, Kala'uun. Though they might have to stop by Atzerri just to refuel, before they hit the Correllian Run... then they'd be on the damn Outer Rim again, nearly back where they started. But if he wanted more ladies, the place to recruit was Ryloth, certainly. He didn't have to liberate every slave on Tatooine; the galaxy was full of them.
Or maybe he'd done enough. Maybe he should follow his heart, too-- the trouble was, his heart wasn't giving him any directions.
So he let out a sigh, popped open an ale, and did the math.
TBC
part25, Didn't Kill Us http://www.livejournal.com/community/je
author : helgaleena helgaleenas@yahoo.com
Series: post-TPM
Rating: NC-17
Category: het
Warning: interspecies, prostitution
Disclaimer: Lucas is god of Star wars and owns everything; I am nothing
Summary: the continuing story of Jaxxon and Quinlan Vos.
More on Jaxxon at web-strip Jaxxon's 11 at theforce.net
http://www.jaxxons11.com
previous episodes: http://www.livejournal.com/users/hl
"Master Tholme isn't coming. He's in a bacta tank again, on Coruscant. We have absolutely no reason to remain here, thank the Force."
"So what next, partner? Coachelle at last?" Jaxxon' ears had swiveled like a satellite array at the news, as Quinlan Vos dropped into the co-pilot's station next to him.
"Sorry, not yet. We need to visit Ryloth again. Aayla has a lead."
The lead had come from the mind of a spectator, during one of Lenara and Lana's performances at Ree's. Aayla was stationed there most nights, monitoring the local stim trade, and playing the protective girlfriend whenever a customer was annoying one of Jaxxon's cadre of beauties, plying their chosen profession. Those not inclined to be polite, simply due to the paternal gaze of the elderly Twi'lek proprietor, often found a bright blue knee slammed into their nether regions, with little or no warning. But most of the time she kept in the background, scanning unobtrusively the moods and upper thoughts of the spacers, desperate for entertainment on parochial Kiffex.
It was in a tipsy Devaronian's mind, temporarily disarmed by Lenara's superficial facial resemblance to his own kind. Kh'ariss Fenn preferred his own sex-- this Devaronian did not. A good female should be furry and domineering--the disgust at what he had been offered by the greenish noble temporarily superimposed his dissolute face upon hers, as she danced. It gave Aayla the inroad she needed, to scan for what the Twi'lek scion of clan Fenn might want from this smuggler.
She and her master, Quinlan Vos, had come here on a lead from a known animal smuggler, Garris Shrike. He was transporting energy spider larvae here, of that they had been certain. But they had been unable to locate Shrike himself. If his craft had indeed set down on this moon, it had been in one of the interdicted areas, that they could not scan without the spymaster, Tholme.
But here, in this one's mind, was the phrase-- //Fenn can get his own eggs...unnatural inbred wormhead...let clan Secura keep their market, why should I care?// It was known that the Fenn and Secura clans were allies on Ryloth's ruling council, but bitter rivals in the clandestine animal and slave trades. It sounded to Aayla as if glitteryll, too, was about to be added to their spheres of contention.
When she discussed it with Master Vos, he confirmed it-- Ro Fenn's playboy son, Kh'ariss, was known to use glitteryll to mind-wipe his pleasure slaves when he tired of them. He was after his own source, what clan Secura already had--energy spiders.
The risk of returning to Ryloth, after nearly being killed by clan Secura on their last visit, was somewhat mitigated by their deciding to travel straight to Kala'uun Spaceport, which was under the control of their competitors, clan Fenn.
When they discussed it with Lady Lenara Olan, she was jubilant. If this Kh'ariss was stupid enough to proposition a Devaronian, a race attracted to fur, he probably had a taste for Lethan coloration, like hers. Either she or Lana would be certain to catch his eye, which meant possibly plying credits, as well as notoriety, from a young heir. And the audience in this backwater was definitely undeserving of her artistry. She could hardly wait to leave the haunted moon.
So his Kiffar partner, the secret Jedi with the unhappy history, wasn't the only one glad to be getting away.
Meena had gotten bored with the place pretty quickly, too, and spent more and more of her time going through Foot's library, teaching herself things. It had never occurred to him before, that many former slaves had no education. Even Oni couldn't note down the tunes she performed. It had thrilled Meena to key out her own name, in Aurabesh, and print it on a flimsy. She put it with her treasures. And seemed glad that they'd soon be in orbit, away from interruptions to her holoviewing. Well, she had a lot to catch up on. Technically, she was only three years old. Little Rena seemed like her mother, sometimes...
Surprisingly, Niala decided to stay with her conquest, Ree. And if Niala stayed, so did Oni; they were closer than kin, after all. The little cadre of Jaxxon's Twi'leks would be reduced to four, before he'd even set course for the target market, his home system. But they were free beings, who must follow their hearts. And those two were so sweet about it! Oni had come to tell him in person.
Just to make certain he was not too sad about their desertion, she'd shoved him into the supply cupboard door and packed him into her capacious self for a goodbye shag, full of dewy smiles. "Niala and I needed you to understand," she'd cooed in her matchless voice. She'd lifted one leg and wrapped it around him quite casually, so that his hand came up to steady it almost by reflex, her gaze holding his so gently he almost didn't notice his zipper sliding down. She eased his only garment away like a wisp of troublesome fog that had barely been there to begin with. Her talented hands ghosted over the fur on his ribs just solidly enough to make it stand on end.
"Remember, my friend, you and I are the holy color." The green club? That made him grin, and lick the tip of her nose.
He used his claws to tickle the bare foot of the leg twined round him, and gave a thrust like a bantha, to shake her tree and set her pendulous breasts swaying. Her lekku curled round his shoulders, and he could feel the toes of her other foot digging into the fur of his own big, bare feet. They swayed together like saplings in a breeze, her lekku not quite touching his ears, this one last time. His hands almost idly stroked across her limbs and played over her nipples as she moved herself upon him. The climax he teased out of her, and she out of him, was like a ribbon around the present they gave to each other. This is how a fuck-buddy should be, he thought... Nothing too deep, just mutual admiration.
"Kia'lekki will keep you safe," she'd murmured, after shimmying up him high enough to kiss his nose, afterward. He was still smiling as he peeled off the barrier and tossed it out. What a ray of happiness she was. Kiffex didn't deserve her.
Next stop, Kala'uun. Though they might have to stop by Atzerri just to refuel, before they hit the Correllian Run... then they'd be on the damn Outer Rim again, nearly back where they started. But if he wanted more ladies, the place to recruit was Ryloth, certainly. He didn't have to liberate every slave on Tatooine; the galaxy was full of them.
Or maybe he'd done enough. Maybe he should follow his heart, too-- the trouble was, his heart wasn't giving him any directions.
So he let out a sigh, popped open an ale, and did the math.
TBC
part25, Didn't Kill Us http://www.livejournal.com/community/je
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