Winning An Asset

[Ali Hadrix]

Ali had little idea what girls did at slumber parties. All her friends growing up at had been boys for the most part, with a girl here and there in between. Her mother having been a soldier, Ali had been surrounded by male-minded individuals her entire life. The more pacifistic people she knew, like her father the economist, had impacted her upbringing far less than the militarized culture in which she had been raised (not that she didn't understand the value of non-violence).
Ali smiled warmly, watching foreign fingers trace her skin like a spider, mounting toward prey. I am the spider, Ali knew, though it saddened her somewhat to live without rest from her huntress mentality. Even Tara was prey to her; young, excited about life, looking to experience everything it had to offer...these were weaknesses to a predator like Ali. She knew, however, that her self-loathing would live about as long as it took to put Tara onto her back once more, with her lips against Ali's tongue. Conscious morality dies at her waistline, Ali thought miserably as Tara confirmed her self-sacrifice to Ali's addiction.
"Then we're agreed," the older woman said conclusively, reaching for her scotch for another sip before keying the small ordering display for appetizers. Selecting shaak strips with a small variety of dipping sauces, Ali paid via her government chit and returned it to her bag. "I'll have more to discuss with you later, Tara, but until then..." Ali winked back at her companion with a smile and squeezed her hand. "...pazaak sounds fun." She glanced up as a Human server arrived with their food, which was every bit as tasty as she'd remembered it being during her last visit to the Wookiee world.
A short while later Ali was placing a small take away container into her hand bag and leaving the establishment with Tara at her side. Ali drew a spare lipstick from her bag and applied it swiftly, then looked over at Tara in offering, noticing a mite of sauce at the corner of the young woman's mouth. Ali wiped it away with her finger, smiling, and licked it off. "Now to find some cards," she said happily, reaching out for Tara's hand. The afternoon was waning, though evening was still a couple hours away. The sun was dipping below the awesome canopy that coated the planet like a shroud and heading toward the horizon below. The market remained plenty active however, and Ali had no doubt they could find what it was they were looking for.

[member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira]​

 

[Sitara Qin]

Tara had no complaints about the food that Ali ordered. The shaak strips Ali had ordered were a little chewy, though still tender enough to eat easily. She liked to eat the strips with her fingers, it allowed her to draw attention to her lips and make a small mess, which Ali wiped away with her slender fingers.

This is why women were dangerous. On their own, they were already hard enough to handle. Sitara truly thought that women were the stronger sex. They had far more appeal than men did, and they had the tendencies to look gentle. Yet in a second, they’d snap together. Women were like whips. They could control the animals around them with so much as a tap. And two women together—two beautiful women together— it was already a recipe for disaster: especially when both played for opposite sides of the field.

Sitara was reminded of that once Ali paid via her government chit. Of course she technically wasn’t supposed to be associating herself with a government agent (especially a republican! Gasp! How scandalous!) But in hindsight, it wasn’t like she knew who Ali was. And besides, as long as she doesn’t say anything that betrayed her faction, she’d be okay. And Ali wouldn’t hurt her, right? Besides, Sitara saw no sign of a lightsaber nor did she detect a force signature. Her mind would be safe. For now.

She continued to munch on the strips of meat that were served to them while Ali ordered the food they’d be eating later. They’d have to find some place that sold alcohol by the crate. An evening of drinking was always fun, especially if it was as dangerous as this. Her master probably would never approve. Ah, but that guy was as much of a sucker for women as she was for playtime.

She took one last sip of her sangria before Ali reached out for her hand. “Alright! Gotta warn you though, I’m pretty good.” She winked, entwining her fingers with the lovely lady’s. She could imagine their night now: alcohol, strip pazaak, and fooling around afterwards. She didn’t have any spare clothes on her, that was all left at the small hotel she was staying at.

“To the market we go~” She sang, giving Ali’s hand a small squeeze as they left the restaurant. “Shall we check the market?”

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

Ali rolled her eyes at Tara playfully, "I don't care how good you are, I'm sure we'll both end up naked by the end of the night..." Ali's own mind had turned to more erotic card games the moment Tara had mentioned pazaak. She looked at Tara and winked, squeezing the girl's hand in her own, "Or the beginning." She trotted onward, enjoying the coolness of the shaded wooden planks below her feet and the light breeze that caressed her bare legs and thighs as they entered the busy market streets. Few of the stands lining either side of the pathway were covered, the massive wroshyrr tree 'neath which the market was built provided all the shade necessary. Those that were used light fabrics of myriad colors and shades, creating small waves of color that drifted in the breeze.
Ali led Tara passed food and drink vendors, stopping long enough to sample liquors and treats here and there. Liquor was next on the list, and there was a vendor close by that had everything they'd need. Ali grabbed one of the green tote bags hanging from the stand's wooden post, then plucked a bottle of strong Coruscanti spirits from the stand, followed by one of Anaxian wine and a bottle of Mandalorian tihaar. The last bottle was made of clear glass, and the liquid inside was nearly black. Ali shook the bottle in front of Tara before setting it down on the counter and paying. "Be careful Tara, with this I may just have my way with you tonight," she closed her eyes and smiled playfully, "You don't mind if I have my way with you, do you?" Ali added, pouting worriedly, though the look in her eye gave away her joking attitude.
At a later stand, Ali purchased a new handbag, this one much larger than the one she carried at her side. It was a Chatelaine, the kind intended to clip to a belt, which Ali had left behind at her home that morning. The fabric was soft, some sort of Nubian animal skin, and decorated with lace wrappings and beads. "These are just gorgeous!" Ali called back to Tara. She abandoned her small handbag in the tote, then looked over at Tara and considered the half-dressed young woman. Her hair was still damp, several clumped strands hung around her ears and amidst her neckline. Her figure curved just the way Ali's fingertips remembered it. What kind of handbag are you? She wondered silently. Looking back to the stand's selection, Ali caught sight of a minaudière, made of durasteel and hand-etched with the design of a Kashyyyk landscape surrounded by a border of a dozen alien flowers. It was small, large enough for only some makeup, keycards and other personable items, but was prettily designed, and sturdy. With a smile, Ali bought it, then handed it to Tara as she turned away from the vendor. "Here, for you." Ali smiled, retaking the woman's hand.

[member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira]​

 

[Sitara Qin]

“But anticipation is half the fun.” Sitara grinned, as they walked to the busy market. It was a colourful place, though a lot less occupied than the bazaar they had first met at. The people here looked a lot friendlier and she assumed their prices were a lot lower too. Islands like these were secret sanctuaries of paradise, something well confirmed by her little affair with the gorgeous older woman.

The sun kissed her skin as they moved along the market. Her eyes wondered over Ali’s physique, lingering on her waist. Her gaze shifted from the brunette towards the eye-catching bottles on display. She giggled as she grabbed some of her own finds, though was more impressed by the dark liquid of tihaar that Ali had found. She licked her lips as she examined the bottle, the liquor inside moving about. “Only if you agree to take turns.” She was fine with negotiating. She couldn’t allow herself to play into Ali’s dominance too easily. After all, she liked being on top too.

A few stands down the line, Ali had decided to purchase a new hand bag while Sitara was looking over at the other fine garments. “Oh that’s beautiful, but look at this!” She responded as she glanced over at the bag Ali was holding. She held up a pair of leather sandals with a white vamp. “This is totally perfect for the weather.” She grinned, as she made her purchase. She was distracted by the other items in the stall. Surprisingly, the stall also sold a box of assorted candies which she thought would be fun to share. The candies were all decorated in multicoloured film wrapper so Sitara wasn’t sure what flavours they were.

She almost jumped when Ali walked up to her and offered her the bag. She smiled, giving the woman a soft kiss on the cheek. “You’re too sweet.” She smiled, as she pulled away. “Here.” She said, offering her the can of candies. “I’m sure these aren’t as sweet as you."

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

Ali smirked as Tara attempted to assert herself in their relationship. She's negotiating, Ali realised. She wanted to let her smile broaden, but controlled herself. I wonder if she even knows it. Ali mused, turning to look at the beautiful young woman. "That's fine with me, I play switch." Ali winked and took the can of candles, pulling off the lid to inspect them. She tipped it sideward and let a single candlestick slide out and into her hand. This one was red. Ali held it straight up and down, smiling at Tara. "Maybe not as sweet, but just as useful..." Ali murmured cryptically, tipping the candle over with the flick of her wrist, miming the dripping of wax. With a grin Ali slapped the candle back into the case and topped it, dropping them into her tote. Her cheek still tingled from where Tara had kissed her. Seriously, the chemistry here is going to be the death of me. Ali thought, not entirely sarcastic. The fact that she was getting on so well with this woman worried Ali deeply.
Their relationship thus far was mostly carnal, lined with a mutual respect that Ali did not often share for others, but that did not make it any less real. Tara was real, her lips, her breasts, her thoughts, her breaths, all real. Just like Têhra. Ali remembered how the teenage Hapan girl had looked the last time Ali had left her: Wet-eyed and afraid. Ali controlled every aspect of the girl's life when they were together, from what she wore, to what she ate, to where she slept and what they did when they were in bed together.
Those were the tenets of their partnership, and were what made Ali's trips to Hapes special, and dangerous. Têhra's aunt, the Duch'a Zihanna Syle'a, would have had Ali exiled and worse done to Têhra if the two were discovered. Ali had many assets on Hapes that required her availability, assets the Republic would lose were she her ties to be severed there. Or my life taken, Ali thought angrily. She knew enough about the Duch'a to know she wasn't above murder. Ali had considered killing the woman on several occasions, but she was too well guarded, and Têhra herself might be given the blame.
Cultivating intelligence assets took time and effort, resources that would be wasted if Tara turned out to be just another nobody. She's not nobody to me. Ali reminded herself, though she knew Crassis wouldn't give a damn. The man had given her an assignment, not a free pass. There was nothing about Tara that told Ali she was anyone special, and yet something kept her drawn to the girl. Had Ali been Force Sensitive like her mother, Myra, she might have been able to glean more information about Tara from her own mind. Curse my banality, Ali thought. Silently she began to combat herself over the young woman's value, each argument had Ali on the defensive, struggling to justify her personal attraction to the girl.
Tara could easily have access to highly sensitive information, I just have to find out more about her. Her heart said.
There's no way, no one that young is going to have access to anything worthwhile. Look at her, she's a pretty face, not a Sith Lord.

Ali gave up the fight for the time being, and instead focused on her evening with Tara. She could recommence with her internal struggle in the morning, Ali decided, offering Tara another, genuine smile and taking her hand. "I think all we need are cards, and then..." Ali leaned over and licked Tara's earlobe with the tip of her tongue. "...we can go back to mine." She concluded, blowing on the ear lightly while it was still wet with her saliva. Ali let her professional self fall away, frustrated with the life she led and eager to live the life she wanted, at least in this moment. She shook her hair out with one hand and brushed it back over her shoulders, then took Tara's hand confidently and went searching for the cards they needed.
Ali found them at a vendor's game stall several blocks down from the restaurant. He was a tall, pepper-haired Wookiee, and sold wooden puzzle games, board games, figurines made of various materials, and much more on top of the electronic card and game types Ali was after. She picked out two basic pazaak decks and paid for them, dropping them into her tote. Turning to Tara, she smiled, her red lips revealing a devilish grin. "I think we're ready." Ali said softly, holding Tara's beautiful eyes in her gaze. Ali took a moment to look Tara up and down, her mind placing Tara's figure in lingerie, then in sheets, ropes...Ali almost laughed as the image caused her breath to catch in her lungs. She giggled and brushed a lock of brown out from across Tara's brow. "Are you ready, sweet?" Ali said, twirling the lock between her fingers. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and bit at it in mock nervousness. "Because I think I am."

[member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira]​

 

[Sitara Qin]

Perhaps one of the striking contrasts between these two ladies was that while Sitara lacked control, Ali seemed to have a grasp at it. It was possibly the way she carried herself, she seemed to think before she even spoke, something Sitara wasn’t accustomed to doing. It was the way Ali touched her, she was dominating though still held back and Sitara wasn’t quite sure why. She had given herself to Ali, allowed Ali to do as she pleased with her, yet she still managed to control herself. Sitara had allowed herself to be submissive, though with the games Ali’s suggesting, she wasn’t quite sure if she’d allow herself to be tied up the whole time.

Perhaps it was different with another man, things would’ve been different. That was slightly sexist on her end, and Sitara was definitely not a chauvinist. It was merely the fact that she wanted to experience other things as well, and she could already imagine her female companion in several different positions. The candles were kinky, yes, and Sitara had a vague idea of what was going to be happening. She could already feel the wax tingling against her skin, burning her for a soft second before the sensation of heat disappearing.

Ali was definitely a dangerous woman, Sitara concluded. It was exactly the reason why going to bed with her was exciting. There was nothing fun with being vanilla, and she did enjoy her flavours spicy. They walked towards another stall where Ali had picked up two basic pazaak decks. She rubbed her hands together before clasping Ali’s.

“I’m ready.” She purred, leaning her head against Ali’s. Her ear was still wet with Ali’s saliva, though with the way the older woman was playing with her, it wouldn’t take long till Sitara was soaked again.

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

"This is it," Ali said, keying open the door to her Kashyyyk home. The Republic government had bought it on her behalf, and it was owned by a shell corporation based out of Alzoc III, but it was the closest thing Ali had to a home away from her parents on Mandalore. The nature of her work as a spy left her without a true home to speak of, not even this place was really hers. The trek back to the beach from the market hadn't taken long, though the two women had waited for nearly half an hour for another ferry to arrive to carry them back to the mainland. They'd enjoyed a somewhat hurried walk hand-in-hand back to Ali's place, the excitement was nearly palpable between them. The night was closing in and the sun had begun its final descent below the horizon, far off in the distance behind the wroshyyr trees that dominated Kashyyyk's landscape.
Ali stepped inside, leading Tara in with one hand, and closed the door behind them. The automated lighting system faded on, revealing a wood floor stained a deep brownish red that led to a carpeted living area. The hallway itself was short, maybe three meters. One wall was lined with coat hooks, the other a pair of doors that led further into the house. The left wall continued on until the kitchen, with a set of double doors set midway along, opening into a larger hallway that exposed the rest of the home. Ali dropped her heels and handbag on a small ottoman by the door, and carried the tote bag into the kitchen. Were Tara to look left down the hallway branching off of the main living room, she would find a dimly lit corridor with the same dark stained wroshyyr paneled floor and several pairs of doors leading into dark rooms left and right. Lining the sidewalls were potted planets from a dozen worlds. The corridor ended in a set of black paneled doors. They were shut and locked with a keyed deadbolt. The far wall of the living room was a long window, outside was a balcony that overlooked the tree-city below and around them. The balcony faced West, the night sky visible to the North and South where their portion of the land jutted out toward the water and the trees were no longer able to entirely block the sky.
Ali waved on the kitchen light and set the tote bag down on the counter. The kitchen itself was lined with granite counter tops, stone-tiled floors and cream colored walls. The appliances were all aligned smartly and made of stainless durasteel. Ali reached into a walnut cabinet and drew out a set of cocktail glasses and a mixer set, resting them on the counter top before pulling bottles of liquor from the bag. "We have enough here to last us days, Tara," Ali called, pulling an opener from a drawer and cracking open setting them back down. She reached for the jigger, then began parting out various liquors into each glass. Taking a jar of Alderaanian pitted olives from the freeze unit, Ali plucked one and popped it into her mouth, humming to herself as she drew a pair of double shot glasses from the cabinet and set them down.
"We're going to start with a pretty rough drink, followed by a couple of martinis," Ali told her companion, cracking open the bottle of tihaar with the opener and pouring them each a shot. Setting them aside, Ali grabbed the ice tray from the freeze and dropped several spheres into the shaker, then mixed and poured both their drinks. She lifted them both and handed one to Tara, then slid one of the shot glasses over to her as well. "Now," Ali warned, arching an eyebrow gently, "Tihaar is a Mando'ade drink, it's strong," she thumped her own chest, "Like my people. Be warned, and drink it swiftly, or you might not drink it at all." Ali winked, then tilted her head back and downed the shot. It burned, as it always did. She slammed the shot glass down on the counter sharply and sipped at her martini to wash down the thick, black liquor.

[member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira]​

 

[Sitara Qin]

Cozy. That was the word that floated into her mind as she stepped into Ali’s quaint home. It was snug, the yellow lights illuminated leisurely, slowly bringing in the entire atmosphere of the place into view. She ditched her flip-flops beside Ali’s pair of heels and followed her into her kitchen. Nice place. It was well decorated, with nice wooden floors, coat hooks that reminded her of fighting octopuses, and peering down the hallway she saw lots of foreign plants.

“Woah, you’re renting this place for a week? Must cost you a fortune.” Sitara commented, as she examined one of Ali’s plants before moving back to the kitchen with cream coloured walls. She watched as Ali take out a set of cocktail glasses and a mixer set. She hopped herself onto the counter and crossed her legs, simply observing Ali. “Sure, days.” She joked, taking one of the liquor bottles into her hand and examining the translucent liquid. She handed it back to Ali, who began parting out the liquors into the glasses. She watches as Ali opened up a jar of olives and plopped one into her mouth. Sitara never did like olives, she always thought they were far too bitter for her palate.

The drink that Ali picked up was a bottle filled with dark liquid. The tihaar, Sitara remembered, licking her lips. It was a drink she hadn’t tried before, and she was glad Ali was here to introduce the foreign liquor to her. She took the shot into her hand and stared into her rippling reflection in drink. It almost surprised her that Ali was a Mandalorian. More reasons to be wary. She grinned, as she mimicked Ali’s movements by tilting her head back and gulping down the shot swiftly. She sucked in her cheeks, surprised by the strong drink.

It was definitely different, though reminded her of absinthe. It gave her the same burning feeling in the pit of her stomach, as though she had drank liquid fire. Yet the taste—she wasn’t sure if she could pin it down to any specific flavours. Whatever it was, it was really strong.

She immediately set down the shot glass and took hold of the martini. The drink dribbled down her throat, flushing the dark liquid down. She kept sipping at the dry drink, and though it was slightly spicy, it still gave her throat a good relief. She sighed, her lips parting from the straw, remnants of the liquid trickling down her chin. “You’re right. That was pretty strong.” She said, breathless as she reached for another martini.

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

"The Republic owns it, I don't pay a cred. That's one of the perks of running government finance," Ali said nonchalantly as she tipped over the bottle of tihaar and poured them each another shot. They'd both eaten enough to temper the amount of liquor they were about to consume, or so Ali felt. Giving away the ownership history of the penthouse seemed like the right play to Ali. Honesty was a good policy in general, and whether or not Tara was privy to anything sensitive herself, Ali lost nothing by confessing the mere facts. Her cover as a government financier was only further solidified by the purchase of such lodgings. Regardless, the confession worked to Ali's advantage. Were Tara playing her in exchange, she would learn nothing she would not have already assumed, and Ali knew full well that gaining an asset sometimes meant becoming the asset of your target. If she let Tara believe she was some random government civilian employee, she was likely to think of her as less of a threat, perhaps let her guard down.
I've already planned to strip her guard from her entirely. Ali thought, smirking to herself as she caught Tara's hand reaching for another cocktail glass. Ali arched an eyebrow and shook her finger at the woman, then used it to wipe away the liquor dribbling down Tara's chin. She left that just for me, Ali knew, and the urge overcame her. She pressed herself between Tara's legs, and kissed her chin with an open mouth, sucking away the liquor from her skin and dragging Tara's bottom lip downward with her teeth simultaneously. Ali came away licking her lips, feeling the burn that danced along them.
"There are rules, little Tara," Ali murmured darkly, lifting the shot glass and putting it to Tara's lip. Ali tilted the glass forward as Tara drank in the dark liquor, then set it down with a sharp rap against the granite counter top and swallowed her own. Next she reached for the cocktails, handing one to Tara and stepping back, sipping at her own. Ali leaned back against the opposite counter, crossing her naked legs and swallowing the deliciously bitter drink. "Rule number one is shot, then cocktail." She said, reaching absentmindedly into a drawer and taking from it a soft pack of unfiltered cigarettes. She put one to her lips and lit it with the small torch sitting in the drawer, then left them to rest on the counter behind her. Ali sucked the smoke into her lungs deeply, she could see down the paper to the burning cherry that grew. Tara rested just behind it, as if it were aimed at her. Smoke drifted from Ali's lips and nostrils, dawdling toward the ceiling in thick clouds. With a gesture, Ali signaled the lights to dim, until she could just make out Tara's features. It wasn't dark, but neither was it light.
"There are other rules, you'll learn," Ali continued, drawing from her cigarette once more. "I enjoy structure, order." Ali said, gesturing with her hand in a sharp knifing motion. "I like it when things are as set in stone as they can be, one...after...another. Like puzzle pieces with perfect edges, everything fitting together like it should." Her eyes flicked up to Tara, grazing across the young woman's supple lips. "But I'm also a fan of bedlam and entropy." Ali smiled, smoke drifting from between her lips. She set her martini down and stepped forward between Tara's legs; Ali loved that the girl had put herself up on the counter top like that. Just for me, Ali thought, dragging deeply on her cigarette before running a hand along the back of Tara's neck and pulling her forward for a kiss. Smoke fumed from between their open mouths, and regardless of whether or not the young woman enjoyed the taste, Ali was impressing on Tara one simple fact: I am in control of you in this moment. Give yourself to me until I give you back.

[member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira]​

 

[Sitara Qin]

Government finance…Ew.

It wasn’t exactly the job Sitara pinned with Ali. She was thinking more of a secret agent, someone who could hold a gun, perhaps. But then again, the job did suit her. She was very much in control of herself and she kept this place nice and tidy, unlike Sitara’s studio apartment on Coruscant. She could see a lot of herself in Ali, though they were still very much different. It was probably another reason why Sitara was so drawn to this woman. Though it was the first time she had been physically involved with another woman, it definitely wasn’t the first time she had felt an attraction.

She felt Ali press herself between her thighs. Her hands moved to caress her face, her thumb softly stroking her cheek. Ali moved away, searching for something else. She heard the sound of a drawer opening, and Ali produced a pack of cigarettes, the filter tip resting between her lips. The tobacco at the end of the cigarette burned brightly, pulsing red. Smoke floated away from her lips and nostrils, passing through her. The lights dimmed between them till Tara could only make out some of Ali’s features. Her eyes could make out Ali’s bare legs, the silhouette of her fine body beneath her blouse. “I get that.” Tara said, as Ali mentioned her preference for structure and order. “I think we fit together, Ali.” She purred, wrapping her arms around the girl as she approached her again, feeling her against her thighs. “Well, I on the other hand,—“ She said, reaching for Ali’s hair before she pulled her in for a kiss.

“I like it messy.” She whispered, as their lips grazed and she felt smoke pass into her lips. It was a strange sensation, as though her mouth was filled yet empty at the same time. The taste was a little bitter, almost like she was breathing out charcoal and Ali’s flesh at the same time. It was the smell of the smoke that was more addicting, however. Yet Sitara could feel fire from all of it; not just the cigarette, not just Ali’s lips brushing against hers, but everything about Ali was like fire. She closed her eyes, her tongue brushing against the woman’s tobacco stained lips.

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

Ali forced her mouth away from Tara's for what seemed to be eternity itself. She leant away, bringing the cigarette to her lips and drawing from it before leaving it resting on the counter. All of motion seemed to become a flurry, a whirlwind born of passion and lust. Tara's lips were nipping at Ali's own, the young woman's hands grasping at her hair and her thighs clenching around Ali's waist. Ali too was swiftly losing herself in the moment, clutching Tara's hips and biting back at the girl's lip anytime she pulled away.
"If shambolic is what you want," Ali muttered breathlessly as she bit down on the soft flesh of Tara's neck, "Then that's what you'll receive." Her hands went to her own blouse, slipping apart the top few buttons and pulling it off over her head. She let it fall to the floor, taking Tara's hands and placing them on her now-freed breasts. Ali remained in only her panties now, nipping at Tara's collar bone to signal for the girl to remove her own top. Ali helped her, slipping her hands up Tara's hips and underneath the shirt, her thumbs grazing over the young woman's pale stomach and breasts once they were too freed.
All too soon, however, with the two women's naked tops against one another, Ali pulled away, stepping back and grabbing a glass from behind her willful prey. She sipped at it calmly, though her breathing was halted, and looked up at the girl on her counter top. "Rule number one: You learn your place before you play with me. You have to learn the rules before I can let you play freely." Ali said, gaining control of her breathing as she retrieved her cigarette. Downing the rest of the martini and picking up the candles near by as well as the torch from her cigarette drawer, Ali took Tara's hand and guided her back down to the floor. Ali lead her to the living room, almost unable to stand the heat of Tara's hand in her own. The girl had hot, thick blood pumping through her excited veins, and Ali knew her own bare chest was flushed. She would end up sweating, before long; her brow was already moist with small beads of it.
Ali ushered Tara passed her and into the living space. Along the wall-window rested a long white leather couch, L-shaped that turned into the center of the room. Within the cradle of the L was a sturdy, wroshyyr wood coffee table with short thick legs and a solid top panel carved with pencil-thin landscapes and images of Wookiee tree cities. Off to the side sat a small regal blue chaise lounge aside a tall, steel lamp. Ali continued smoking, pointing to the chaise lounge with her cigarette hand, smoke curling around her arm as it cut through the cloud of her exhalation.
"There are only two positions that matter, Tara," Ali said softly, striking the torch and lighting her first candle. "Mine...and yours." This one she sat in a small candle stand provided by the set. She lit two more this way as Tara waited for her. "While we play, you will be mine, and I will be yours." Ali's words were more intended to build anticipation than provide any sort of instruction. Ali had a crop for that. Her speech she had used on a dozen women before Tara, and would on a dozen after her. "As long as you do what you're told, I promise you'll have your turn as me." Ali smiled in the dim light, setting the other two candles to rest and burn atop the coffee table. She left her cigarette to hang from her bottom lip as she straddled Tara's mostly naked form and placed a hand on the other woman's stomach, over her navel. Ali could almost feel the heat of Tara's sex rising against her own. The young woman was beautiful, and Ali wanted to tease every inch of her flesh with the tip of her tongue. Ali's hand traveled up between Tara's breasts and halted around her throat, holding her firmly while Ali leant over and kissed the girl, her cigarette hand held casually behind her back. She pushed away against Tara's throat, then drew from the tobacco once more. Smoke billowed from her nostrils, pouring down over her breasts and stomach and clouding Tara from view before dissipating into the air once more. "Are you ready?"

I don't know, a voice inside Ali muttered softly, Are you?

[member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira]​

 

[Sitara Qin]

Ali wasn’t just an open word; she was palpable. Her teeth had burrowed into her pale flesh, grasping onto it slightly before letting go. Her eyes wondered over Ali’s body, taking in every inch of flesh Ali revealed. She was full beneath Sitara’s palms, her fingers tracing light circles over her full mounds. Her thumbs brushed over the knobs in the centre of Ali’s breasts before pinching them. Ali was courteous enough to help her undress, as they hurriedly pulled Sitara’s tank top over her head.

Again with the control. Ali was quick to pull away, grabbing another glass from behind her. She was playing games with her. Did Ali always have to be in control? Sitara wasn’t quite sure she liked that. Ali—her body, her spirit—those were the things she appreciated. But if Ali wanted to play her games, Sitara would have to play. Though, she was a big fan of bending the rules. After all, it wouldn’t be as much fun if she was the submissive little plaything Ali wanted her to be. “Oh I think I know my place.” She murmured, as the older woman brought her into the living room. Right on top of you.

She saw the candles in Ali’s hands and she grinned. It was definitely play time for the both of them. Who would’ve thought that this charming classy lady was so kinky? She mentally rubbed her hands together. She decided to play along, at least for now, and sat herself on top of the lounge. She watched as the older woman lit the candles before setting them down into candle stands. She held her breath as the woman proceeded to get on top of her. She felt herself struggling beneath Ali’s grip, uncertain if she really liked being in this position or not.

Either way, it was definitely something new for her. If Ali promised her a role exchange, it was definitely something Sitara would grant her later on. Though she wanted Ali to experience something else, and though it was unlike her, she almost wanted to penetrate her in other ways. The young girl wanted to experience dominating her in so many other ways than one; her mind so close from searching the woman’s thoughts. Why do you like to play these games with me, Ali? You make me want to enter you. You make me want to break you. Of course, not in the ways that would physically hurt her. The older woman would be having controlled climaxes, though it was nothing Sitara could influence while she was down here looking up, the older woman’s lithe fingers around her neck.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m more than ready.”

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

"Don’t worry baby, I’m more than ready." Tara bit back. Ali could sense the defiance in her tone, the way she cut them out with her teeth like she were splitting wood. Force, drive, passion, greed. Tara was sweet, but she was ambitious. That's fine. I know how to handle ambitious women. Ali reminded herself. She had no way of knowing what might be happening inside the young woman's head, but felt she could handle whatever came up. Even so, it was Tara's apparent drive to control and command that Ali found herself attracted to. The girl was young, true, and clearly headstrong, though Ali felt there was more to her aggression than just simple immaturity. Ali could tell it was part of who Tara was, and she could only appreciate her for that. A young part of Ali's heart and mind wanted to be taken, wanted to submit. It was the same part of her that had been so powerfully awakened in the presence of the Duch'a Zihanna Syle'a on Ali's most recent visit to Hapes. That woman is evil, Tara is not. Ali said to herself, quelling the sudden panic that had risen inside her. Ali was not used to lacking control, she enjoyed it, though many aspects of her life were in a constant state of disarray. A part of her, however, wanted to throw that caution to the wind and let Tara own her instead of the other way around. No one yet that Ali had handed over the reins to had succeeded in fulfilling her deeper needs. Maybe she can...Ali considered, before smiling slightly in the dark.
"Good. Then we can play." Ali growled, biting Tara's lower lip and pulling at it with her teeth before sitting up once more. She could feel the other woman's hips between her thighs, putting pressure on them. She felt the heat of her sex emanating from her groin. Ali shifted her grip on Tara's throat, cupping her hand against the girl's cheek and jaw and running her thumb along her lips. She returned the cigarette to her mouth where it hung lazily from her bottom lip now, stuck there by the saliva that had soaked into the paper. She curled her lip and pulled the cigarette between her teeth, drawing on it deeply. Tara would be able see the cherry racing toward Ali's lips. Ali took the tobacco from her mouth and tapped the ash off on Tara's naked stomach, dashing itself against the girl's navel. She stared down at Tara through the smokey haze and the dim light that dipped and danced along the young woman's features like water lapping at a cliff face. Ali leaned over and put the cigarette out in the ashtray that she left there, reaching for a candle and holding it casually over Tara's naked belly. She looked down at Tara and shifted her grip once again, covering the young woman's mouth and holding it shut. Ali whispered into her ear as the candles continued to burn. "Rule Number Two: You do not make a sound unless I've given you permission." Ali pushed herself away and breathed in deeply, she could smell Tara's salty sweet skin, and wanted to taste the lips between her legs just as she had before on the beach.

"It is said that pain can being rewarding, and that submitting to the suffering our bodies struggle our entire lives to avoid can be the greatest freedom any one of us can have." Ali spoke softly. Holding the candle aloft she looked over its red rim to gaze at the flame that wove itself back and forth. The wax had begun to melt, filling the center of the candle in a hot clear pool.
"Fire has always fascinated me," Ali muttered, her eyes fixated on the flame. "Ever since I first saw my mother employ her abilities." She looked around the candle down at Tara. Ali cocked her head sideward and regarded the flame once more. "My mother is like a fire. She burns bright and hot, yet despite being so strong she's fluid and everlasting..." Ali was losing herself in the darkest places of her mind. This was were she always went when she was with a woman, lost in a sea of feeling that took control and did its own will on her behalf. She relinquished herself to it, she did not fight it, she would never fight that feeling of submission that gave her so much satisfaction and joy.
"I am like fire, Tara, you'll see." Ali whispered, staring down at the girl, the candle held over her chest. She let it tip sideward millimeters at a time, and she watched intently as the pool of melted wax shifted until it poured over the lip of the candle in a single, hot drop the size of a nail head. It landed on Tara's breast and Ali ensured her grip on the woman's neck was tight enough to hold her down as she drizzled a stream of hot wax from the young woman's breast to her navel. Swiftly Ali set the candle down and lowered her mouth to Tara's own, catching any wayward moans that might escape her lips.
"Remember." Ali growled dangerously. Her tone was harsh and strained, yet somehow remained soft and quiet. "You...do not...make noise." Typically, the sort of candles used for Ali's type of play were designed to melt at cooler temperatures. Yet Ali had a personal reputation to maintain, and typical wax would never do. These candles would leave raised red marks, burns just harsh enough to make resting against them uncomfortable but without leaving behind any true harm. Still, Ali had left a solid line of wax to cool against Tara's skin from breast to navel, one she would enjoy picking off later with her fingertips.

[member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira]​

 

[Sitara Qin]

Do not make a sound. The instructions were clear, but Sitara was defiant. “And what happens if I do make a sound?” Ali was used to this position, it was obvious. What were her previous partners like before me? Sweet…? Submissive…? Innocent? Ali’s blue-grey eyes burned with desire. Ali was looking down at her, enjoying her time as a dominant. So this is what her kinks were. Ali probably was used to being in control all her life, or worse, only gained control of it now. Her eyes were trying to search the woman’s for explanation, her lips curling into a small grin.

The candle in her hand was burning bright, she could see Ali’s fingers coiled over it gently. Her grip was firm, though not enough to mould the candle in her hand. Ali was aching to burn her, to make her feel this so called rewarding pain. Was Tara struggling? No. She had no demons, nothing in her past that could swarm up to haunt her. Perhaps Ali had ghosts of her own; were there names that popped into her head every time she breathed. Was Ali a guilty one? Did Ali have a past? Was there something she had to make up for? Sitara understood that submitting to the so called suffering could be a release for some; though for her, she saw it as a weakness.

What was this suffering her body felt? Sitara did not know, and perhaps that was line between her and most. People had their stories, but her? She was just a girl from Algor whose father pampered her her whole life, though never took her along with him when he travelled. It was probably for her own good, she thought; though if only her father could see her now: his little girl on a bed with someone anticipating to burn her pale flesh.

So maybe she did have some baggage.

Ali was fixated on the flame, talking about her force sensitive mother. The older woman was talking, her thoughts bringing her into the darkest corners of her mind. It was a place Tara rarely went, a place she didn’t really find any solace in. She could see the reflection of the flame in Ali’s eyes. “I am like fire, Tara, you’ll see.”

She was looking forward to it. Ali held the candle over her ample chest, tipping it over slowly. Wax dripped from its side before a small drop of wax singed her skin. The sensation was quick, burning . She struggled, though Ali was quick to hold her down. She felt the woman’s soft lips on hers as she struggled to groan.

“Gotcha.”

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

Ali ignored Tara's inquiry about punishment, it would be better she show the woman what might happen. Tara was being mouthy on purpose anyhow, and Ali wasn't overly concerned with curbing her behavior just yet. But now, Ali began wondering if she'd be able to edge the girl out at all. Tara was clearly strong willed, and Ali wondered if things had only gone so swimmingly for her thus far because Tara had been playing along. Suddenly, the older woman was beginning to feel very wary of her younger playmate. What's she getting at? Ali asked silently, tilting her head sideward and regarding Tara curiously.
"Gotcha." Tara muttered, breaking Ali's rule in defiance, no, mockery, of Ali's position over her. She quickly quelled the anger that rose in her stomach; Tara was like a child, testing boundaries. Ali had to employ ample force, though the candle needed to burn a little longer before she would have enough wax to lay on Tara's slender, pale body. The nubile girl's current burns had already blemished along the edges of the wax, turning them red and warm to the touch. The wax itself had already begun to cool, and cracked in places along Tara's stomach and breast where it was thinnest and had hardened.
Ali set the candle down and calmly, silently, brought the cigarette to her mouth and wrapped her lips around its paper base. She pulled on it, her cheeks slimming inward, then let the smoke in her lungs drift in tendrils from her nostrils and the O she formed naturally when her mouth was at rest. It curled up around her face and obscured her from sight before dissipating in a vague cloud over her head in the dark of the room's night.
Ali reached down and took hold of a nipple between her fingers. She squeezed just at the base of it, amidst the small aureola, and twisted outward, tugging sharply at the same time. Ali held Tara's nipple taught, her large breast slightly elongated with the force Ali was applying to it. She continued looking down at the girl, her blue-gray eyes staring blankly into Tara's own. With a smooth action, Ali leant over and turned her grip on Tara's nipple, pulling it sharply downward, then brought her cigarette within millimeters of the soft, taught flesh. The whole time Ali's eyes never left her ambitious sub's.
"I don't ask for much, Tara." Ali whispered, her lips a mere hand's breadth away from Tara's own. Ali looked down at the nipple she held tightly between her fingers, and pulled at it some more. She brought the cherry of her cigarette closer to Tara's aureola, until the heat from it would be felt against her skin. Ali looked back up at her charge, "If you can't give what I'm asking for, quit now." Ali looked down again, not interesting in anything but Tara's acquiescence. She brought the cigarette closer, the heat should be burning uncomfortably now. Ali then brushed the cigarette against Tara's stretched aureola so that she knocked the ash from its tip, though the cherry itself would not touch her. Not yet...

​

​

"Kiss me," Ali said softly, and though she had looked back up at Tara, she hadn't lowered her lips.​

Tara would have to come to her, and with the cherry of Ali's cigarette so close...​

[member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira]​

 

[Sitara Qin]

It filled her with glee to see the older woman so…irritated with her. And for what? Defiance? Ali was playing a game of who could submit to who, and of course she had to be the dominant one for the first round. The wax on her skin had solidified into long, whispy lines running along her abdomen. If Ali was the fire, then was Tara supposed to be the candle? Was her role simply to melt with Ali’s every touch and command, and crack when she felt her strongest?

No. Tara wasn’t like that. She was more defiant, more wild than Ali would approve of. If Ali wanted to punish her, then she challenged Ali to do it. Her eyes bore into the older woman’s. I dare you. C’mon, hurt me. The woman instead, set the candle down slightly and brought the cigarette back towards her lips. She watched Ali’s shoulders rise and fall as she drew in another mouthful of smoke, before releasing it from her nostrils. Sitara held her breath as the woman exhaled it.

And then she captured her nipple. She bit her lip, apprehensive as to what the older woman’s plans just were. Perhaps if Ali were given a few feet of rope, Tara would have no control over her body whatsoever. Things would have been made far more interesting had Ali been force sensitive. Then maybe, just maybe, Ali could make her feel real pain. If Ali had her way, Tara would have been obedient. But that wasn’t fun, was it?

She gasped as the woman tugged on her delicate flesh. It hurt; a far sharper pain than the candle wax that stained her pale flesh. She bit her lip and closed her eyes as the woman pulled on her once more. She felt her body tighten, as the heat of the cigarette moved closer and closer towards her skin.

This woman was really out to burn her.

Kiss me.

It was a command, and as Ali’s lips teased her by being a few inches away, Sitara complied. She captured Ali’s lips with her own, her mouth grazing against her violently…passionately. Her tongue begged entrance to the older woman’s. Let me in, Ali.

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

Ali sensed, as her lips lifted and met with her own, that even Tara's obedience was itself an act of defiance, the taking of a challenge. Ali felt her lips melt against the plush softness of Tara's moist mouth, the young woman's tongue lashing intemperately against her own. She resisted, but only for a moment, her mouth opening to accept the girl after the most meager of opposition. Tara owned her, that Ali knew as well as she knew the girl would manipulate even her dominance into submission. Topping from the bottom, Ali realised bitterly; Tara was approaching her as if she were a mere student of sex. Ali often played switch, but her role for the moment was being unduly challenged, something she could not allow. So as Tara lifted herself to Ali's mouth, their lips melding and breaking away and reconnecting again in the turmoil and disorder of wanton passion, Ali did not shy her cigarette away from Tara's breast.
The cherry hissed as it burned into the flesh of Tara's aureola, blackening the soft, innocent flesh. As an extra punishment for her insolence, Ali pulled harder on the girl's breast and rolled the cigarette forward until it caught against the butt of her nipple, burning that too. After a mere second, Ali released Tara's breast from her grip and the flesh recoiled as a woman stricken by an abusive lover.
Ali ignored whatever sounds Tara might be making at this moment, forcing the fingers of her right hand into Tara's mouth and holding her tongue down and her mouth immobile. Immediately, Ali exchanged her smoking cigarette for the candle and poured its contents over the wound. The wax drizzled swiftly onto Tara's blackened breast, filling the burn and covering both aureola and nipple in hot, viscous wax. Challenge me? Ali thought, sliding down from Tara's hips and pulling open a small drawer built into the coffee table's side. From it she drew two meters of rope and a pair of leather shackles. The latter she clasped over Tara's wrists while the girl handled her pain, the former she secured to the shackles themselves, pulling Tara's hands together above her head and over the back of the couch before securing the rope's end to a couch foot. Her fingers were still wet with Tara's saliva, and Ali dried them by delivering a firm, open-handed slap to the young woman's face and jaw. Trails of wetness marked her cheek and chin now, glowing dimly in the firelight.
"I'm proud of you Tara," Ali whispered as she leant over the girl from above. Ali opened her mouth and kissed the side of Tara's charred breast, then bit at the girl's lower lip and kissed her.

[member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira]​

 

[Sitara Qin]

Ali’s cigarette burned into Sitara’s skin. Her body tensed, and her tongue was held down, rendering her speech useless. Never before had anyone actually dared inflicting pain on her skin like this, although perhaps this was the price she paid for “defying” the woman who wanted to stay in control. She was crazy. Sitara thought, as Ali’s cigarette branded her, leaving small specs of ash on her skin.

This was how the older woman reacted whenever someone wanted to take control of the situation. She wanted to punish them. Sitara gritted her teeth, creating muffled moans as the melted wax was poured over her skin like sweet cream on dessert. It provided no relief for her burned skin; after this she’d need to see a healer to look over the burns Ali was leaving. By the end of the night, her pale body would be completely pink.

Ali really needed to acquire a slave; someone who would listen to everything she said. Sitara simply wasn’t that kind of woman, and as Ali chained her with shackles, her eyebrows would narrow. Kinky was an understatement. Ali got her kicks out of inflicting pain when her word wasn’t obeyed. Her feet were bound to the ends of the couch and her arms were pinned above her head. She struggled to move, but the woman had her tied up.

Just wait till I get on top of you, Ali. She thought, as Ali’s lips brushed over her naked breasts, now charred with ash. Ali’s lips inched closer to her lips, capturing them with her teeth. She closed her eyes, giving into rough kiss, the chains clanking as she tried to move. The kiss was pleasurable, though didn’t soothe her injured skin.

‘That really hurt, Ali.’ The thought was subtle, and would enter the woman’s mind like a soft breeze. After all, she did say no talking.

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |

 

[Ali Hadrix]

"That really hurt, Ali." The words came unbidden to her mind so startlingly it was moments before Ali realised she hadn't actually heard them. Force user. The warning rang through her mind like a klaxon and she pushed herself away from the younger woman until she stood upright, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the couch and stared down at the beautifully insolent face that looked up at her. Ali realised she'd taken too many steps down a very deep profogg hole. The smirk that marked Tara's pretty little lips and the contained reaction to pain told Ali everything she needed to know. Dark sider. A Jedi would cry, a Jedi would shout, a Jedi would sink into a meditative trance to elude the pain inflicted upon them. But a Dark Sider relished in the agony, used it to fuel their strength, drew power from its potency. Whomever Tara was she was out of Ali's league, beyond her control.
Ali took a step back from the couch, covering her breasts with her hands and tucking her elbows to her sides, considering what to do next. Tara continued staring upwards, her body shackled along the length of the couch, slender and long and ripe. Ali wanted her, even more so now. But how she wanted her was a frightening though. The idea of putting herself under the control of this woman was terrifying, she was suddenly an unknown, untrustworthy. Simply put, Ali was afraid. Fear wasn't something she often felt, her confident outlook on herself and life protected her against such frivolous worries. But now, in the aftermath of everything she knew and had heard about the Sith and their ranks, coupled with everything her mother had told her about the Jedi, Ali wasn't sure if it were appropriate to feel anything but fear in this moment.

​

​

The power she could command...Ali thought, wringing her hands together as she thought of what to do. Surely Tara would know how much of an intrusion her imprudence would have been received as. The Sith think inwardly, only of themselves. Ali remembered the words from the recesses of her memory, though they were not hers, nor did they belong to anyone she remembered knowing. Isn't that all you considered when you brought her here tonight? Yourself? Another voice asked of her. Ali breathed deeply, somewhat calmed by the realisation of her own hypocrisy.
Tara had challenged her, and Ali had simply refused to back down. Now, despite the throes of pain in which she lived, Tara was the one living in defiance. The woman was young, brash, foolish even, but a part of Ali wanted to be enslaved to her, humiliated at will by her. These thoughts terrified Ali. They were not entirely new to her, but never had the compulsion been so strong as when she had met Zihanna Syle'a that day in her penthouse on Hapes. She felt then how she felt now, and it frightened her to the core. My dominance is a lie born of lesser women, Ali considered regrettably. Perhaps Tara truly was stronger? No, it can't be that. Something in Ali's mind told her. I am capable of owning this woman, she knew, though she was unsure of how to accomplish it. For now, she could only do what she knew, what felt...right.
Ali stepped forward and smacked Tara harshly across the face, then reached down and wrapped her hands around the woman's throat. She leant over and squeezed tightly, choking Tara fiercely. Ali could feel the girl's throat strain against her grip. "You enter my head again and you'll regret it. Understood?" Ali growled, releasing her suddenly. Stepping lightly on the balls of her feet Ali rounded the couch once more and retrieved the thin-stalked crop hidden within another drawer of the coffee table. With it she caressed the wax-laden strips of Tara's stomach, avoiding for the moment the soot-covered wound on her breast. Ali stood over her charge, her jaw set and her visage looking serious. Half of it was an act, the other half that was genuinely terrified had never been more aroused in her life.
Clap. Ali struck Tara's breast, right where her burn lay. The crop caught her nipple as well. Clap. Again. Clap. Again. Clap. Ali struck the same breast until the wax was cracked and crumbling, rolling from the wounded hillock and onto the couch. Ali leaned over and inspected the nipple and breast, reaching out and pulling at it, stretching it out to see the condition it was in. Of course the action was intended to cause ample amounts of pain; Ali decided it was best to give Tara was she was likely craving, and the ability to do so was causing Ali a tremendous amount of excitement.

With the crop Ali opened Tara's legs, gently prodding the girl into acquiescence with the flat end of the device as she sat down near her head. Once the girl's legs were spread, Ali caressed the insides of her thighs, tickling them gently. With her other hand, Ali ran her fingers through Tara's hair, caressing her cheeks. "I'm interested to learn more about who you are, Tara darling." Ali uttered whimsically as she slid her forefinger into Tara's mouth and pressed down against the back of her tongue. Gripping her jaw with her thumb, Ali shook the young woman's head gently back and forth, then slid a second finger into her mouth to join the first. Tara's throat was wet and hot, and Ali could feel the saliva coating her fingertips as she explored further into the back of Tara's mouth.
"Tell me who you are," Ali said softly, though with a firmness in her voice that betrayed the strength of her nature. She drew her fingers from the back of Tara's throat and wiped the saliva off on the girl's cheek and neck, then brought the riding crop down with a sharp clap on the beautiful little cleft between Tara's legs.

/ [member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Kaira] \​

 

[Sitara Qin]

She didn’t need the help of the force to tell that Ali was, at the very least, startled by the words that had entered her mind. Ali pushed herself away from her, despite still being bound to the couch. And still, the coy smile plastered on her face held strong. Ali was disturbed; she had taken a step back from her. God, she can’t even look at me properly. Was this how they saw dark siders? Treated them like the Gulag Plague? It was exactly the reason why she didn’t want to reveal herself in the first place.

Crap. The situation looked bad. She was on enemy territory, with one of them. Would Ali take this opportunity to kill her? Perhaps make a few credits? Sitara hadn’t done anything wrong, except for choosing the right side. She held no personal vendetta against Ali’s Republic. But as she watched the older woman rise, covering her breasts, her eyes staring at nothing in particular; Tara knew she invoked the reaction she had wanted all this time.

Yet, the victory wasn’t as sweet as she had liked. Perhaps, something inside of her genuinely wanted to have Ali as a friend. However, this older woman had pulled away from her, the expression on her face clearly displaying horror…alarm. All because of a simple mind trick.

And all Sitara was doing was trying not to break the rules. Ali didn’t want her to speak, so she didn’t. Her eyes had been staring at the ceiling for so long, she swore she bore holes into them.

Smack.

It took a second for her to notice the back of Ali’s hand striking her porcelain face. She blinked, and just before her head turned, she felt fingers lunging for her throat. Tara coughed, choking as Ali squeezed her throat tightly. The older woman was angry; angry because she felt invaded. Angry because for that one moment, she had lost control in a way she hadn’t anticipated. If choking was a way she asserted dominance, a way for Ali to retrieve control…if she was trying to intimidate Tara, then the younger girl would play along.

At least for now.

Was Ali truly that afraid of her? Or was the older woman simply afraid of submitting herself to this joyous pain she had proclaimed a few minutes ago. She’d feel Ali’s crop striking her several times more; the breast Ali had burned stayed sore as the woman continued to inflict pain onto her. There was tension on the rope as she tried to bring her body together, tried to crawl up. Her hands were still bound, her fingers coiled into tight fists.

She drew in deep breaths. Her eyes shutting with every strike catching her sensitive skin. Was this how they punished people in the republic? Or were these the games Ali liked to play privately. She was a sick woman in dire need of a healer. And Sitara thought that maybe, maybe she could correct this girl.

Her legs were pushed apart. She felt fingers crawling towards her more sensitive areas. She held her breath, the woman switching from violent to gentle. It was a constant in their game, Tara noticed. Perhaps this is how Ali got what she wanted. Her mouth was forced open, fingers plunging into her throat, and grinding along the roughness of Tara’s tongue.

The way Ali thought she still had control was titillating, endearing even. As the older woman’s fingers retreated, Sitara coughed slightly. Her body cringed as the woman hit her once more. She closed her eyes.

“I’ve told you everything you need to know, Ali.” She spoke slowly, though retained her rhythm. Ali wanted to play with pain and pleasure, then she’d show her pain and pleasure. The older woman would feel phantom fingers coiling around their neck, she’d feel pressure along the sides of her neck.

‘Release me, Ali’

| [member="Ali Hadrix"] |