Monday, January 27, 2116
Saturday, July 9, 2016
Here's an easy table for my stories that I'll be updating and sorting in the weeks ahead. Each table is a separate line of continuity or series, put in order of continuity, not in release date. So you can read the storyline's easily from beginning to end.
Leia's Motherly Touch
Padmé Amidala (non-canon/one-shots)
Monday, December 28, 2015
And I want to thank Flute for helping me edit White Calrissmas, and again providing great, fun details to bring it more into the Star Wars universe.
A White Calrissmas
Leia Organa Solo stirred in her sleep, her curvaceous body twisting back and forth as a particularly hot and steamy dream teased and taunted her. Beside her, her husband Han slept soundly, totally undisturbed by the buxom beauty's thrashings.
Friday, December 18, 2015
I started up a Patreon. Let's see what happens this time
NOTE: The big $100 story will be posted here, on my blog, but all other Patreon specific stories will only be posted there. So for a $10 donation you'll get to see what everyone $15 and up requests. So yes, bribery.
So I might whip up a Leia and Anakin Xmas story. I've got an idea that's kind of silly and fun. Depends on time and interest.
Monday, October 5, 2015
Padmé Gets A Mouthful
by Pyro with Das Flute
Padmé stirred in her sleep, her eyes barely peeking open to see the early rising sunlight spreading across the carpeted floor of her bedroom. Beside her rested her husband, Anakin Skywalker. Last night had been their first night together in months, the invasion of Coruscant finally bringing her love home to her. A clang of metal sounded from somewhere within her apartment. She shot up in bed, a cold fear shooting up her spine.
"Anakin…" she whispered, pushing her sleeping husband gently beside her to wake him. "Ani, I think someone is here."
The gruff Jedi groaned and muttered, "It's just the cook I told you about."
Padmé sighed, relief washing over her. She recalled Anakin telling her last night how he had a surprise for her, a simple home-style breakfast like the kind she loved and so was often denied due to protocol, as first a queen and a senator.
"I'll go make sure he knows his way around," Padmé said as she slipped out of bed. Anakin was already fast asleep again, the previous day’s battle no doubt having taken a toll on him.
Walking barefoot through her spacious apartment, Padmé didn't think twice about changing or putting on an overcoat. As she understood it the cook was a besalisk, and an alien with four arms. A good fit for a master chef, as Anakin claimed he was. She was still dressed in her blue septsilk night gown, with strings of veda pearls running out from the metal brooch at her upper chest and around her biceps. Her hair was still neatly done up with a small triangular piece at the top. Though she had hoped for a bought of lovemaking with her husband, Anakin had quickly fallen asleep. True, he had jolted awake with a nightmare in the middle of the night; but as a result, he was hardly in the mood then for anything romantic. Padmé wasn't concerned; they had plenty of time now, especially with the war finally nearing an end with the death of Count Dooku.
As she moved through the wide open rooms, the japor snippet dangling between her large breasts, Padmé could smell something cooking already. It was a familiar scent, one from her childhood. Rounding into the kitchen the young senator saw the visage of a huge, rotund alien moving about, grubby pants barely kept up at his waist. He was whistling as he jockeyed between pans, stirring about the contents and flipping them about.
Padmé cleared her throat slightly to get his attention. The besalisk turned quickly, his blubber swaying like a great wave across his stomach.
"Oh!" he remarked, looking upon the pregnant beauty before him. "The lady of the house!" He bowed slightly.
"You're the cook, the friend of Obi-Wan," Padmé said as she nodded to him.
"Yes, Dexter Jettster at your service, Your Highness!" he said with a flourish.
Padmé giggled. "Please, just call me Padmé."
"And I’m just Dex – but I'll have none of that, Your Highness. I know your history, love, and this be your home. You're still the Queen here!" Dexter insisted.
Padmé smiled and shook her head, finding this large man rather amusing. "Anakin tells me you're quite the cook," she commented, as she moved over to a stool at the center island.
"I am quite something, love. Hopefully that extends to my cooking as well. So far it hasn’t steered me wrong."
"He tells me you have a story for everything on the menu at your diner."
"Aye, that's true! A good meal needs a good tale to justify it. Nothing stirs hunger like a bit of adventure or romance, isn't that right?" Dexter grinned as he turned back to the burners, resuming his impressive multi-appendage cooking.
"True enough, though are we talking about strictly a hunger for food, now?" Padmé offered slyly.
Dexter chuckled, "Good point, love. Well maybe it can work both ways. A good meal can get one hungry in a whole new way."
"That's a bold claim, Dex. I'm curious to see what you can whip up for me this morning."
"I'll try not to disappoint." Dexter winked at Padmé as he peeked over his shoulder. The senator smiled in return and thought about disappointment she had suffered in bed last night, her expression diminishing.
Dexter noticed this. "I see I've struck a nerve. Your Highness has been dealt a low limmie, I’d wager.”
Padmé recognized the sabacc term enough from games with her friend, Princess Sozharay’A, to know it wasn’t a good hand. She wasn't typically inclined to divulge personal details to a stranger, or nearly anyone for that matter. But he was already privy to her marriage – or at least some type of intimate relationship with – Anakin, and if her husband trusted him, she would, too. "I shouldn't complain, really. The war has taken its toll and my selfish desires are just that, selfish."
"A lady needs to see to her needs if she's to be of the right mind. We're all sentient beings, love, and we've all got needs and desires. You expect yourself to transcend us mere mortals? Shed off fleshy desires and the carnal cravings of crude matter?" Dexter's tone toyed with being judgmental, just to make his point.
"Oh of course not, but…" Padmé's mind trailed off. "You're right, I shouldn't be too hard on myself."
"Nay, ye shouldn't. Now go out into the living room and take a comfortable seat and I'll be along with just what you need."
Padmé left the kitchen and returning the living room, its curved walls made of transparisteel, giving her a spectacular view of Galactic City. She took a seat on circular cushioned chair, before her a small round glass table with a globe ornament sitting atop it.
She gazed out onto the city, listening to the dampened hum and whistle of the passing traffic. Her fingers absentmindedly smoothed her skirt over her rounded, pregnant belly.
"How far along are you?"
Padmé turned quickly, not hearing the huge besalisk approach. "Oh, I'm about seven months. It's showing quite a bit."
"Aye, it is. You're doing well to hide it, though it's a shame to cover up such a beauty."
Padmé smiled at him. "Thank you, Dex. I appreciate that."
"I hope your husband appreciates it too," Dexter added as he set down a small tray before Padmé on the glass table.
A cup of ardees and a slice of Wasaka berry pie were carefully placed alongside each other. Padmé smiled at the choice of breakfast. Any time of the day was a good time for pie. Ani knew her preferences well, and had obviously passed it along to Dexter. "Oh he does appreciate it," Padmé insisted.
"Not enough, I fear. The boy has left you wanting." Dexter furrowed his brow in disapproval, shaking his head, his big jowls blubbering back and forth. "A real man gives a lady what she really craves, even if she's not admitting it. Even a Jedi should know that. But even they need to have more respect for the difference between knowledge and wisdom, just like I’m always telling Ben…"
"Oh hush, you're being too hard on him. And too nosy, I might add," Padmé said pointedly. She sat forward and picked up the small cup of ardees. She looked at the dark, inky drink. "I take it with cream, usually."
"I should have guessed. How much?"
"Quite a lot, actually. Bring me the pitcher and I'll see to it myself."
"Be right back, Your Highness," Dexter said with a slight nod.
Padmé waited idly, several minutes passing before the besalisk returned.
"Had trouble finding it?" she asked.
"No, I decided to whip you up a fresh serving," Dexter said as she set down a small pitcher of white, gooey looking cream.
"A fresh serving? This isn't my usual?" Padmé asked curiously.
"Nay, love. This is my own concoction. Dexter's finest."
Padmé reached for the cream and lifted it in one hand, bringing it under her nose and sniffed it. It was tangy and pungent. Different from her usual atomically aerated ettel nut-flavored short-wavelength blue milk substitute… but still was a bit familiar as well. "This will go well with my ardees?"
"I think you'll love it," Dexter pressed. “I haven’t had a complaint about it yet.”
Padmé dabbed a finger into the pitcher and licked it clean. She tasted it and after a moment commented, "Has a sweet aftertaste. I like it. You'll have to share the recipe with me."
"There's no recipe, Your Highness, but I'd be happy to share the source."
Padmé cocked her head, suspicious of what he was getting at. "All right," she agreed hesitantly.
"Might as well give you your main course, then…" Dexter reached for his waist and started to untie his pants. "Two besalisk sausages!" He pulled open his pants and out fell twin cocks. Enormous, veiny dicks as long as Padmé's forearm, each dripping with pre-cum, already semi-erect. "Now to get at that cream you liked so much, you'll first have to eat your meal. The first load of the day comes easy but you'll have to work for the second, I'm afraid."
Padmé was aghast. Sitting in her living room, in her nightgown, with her husband asleep in the next room, and a huge, four-armed obese short order cook was now exposing himself to her. And he had two cocks, no less!
"Don't be shy, love. Like I said, a real man knows what a woman really wants. I can see that hunger in yer eyes. Take a grab, why don't ya?"
Padmé gulped. "You… There are two of them!"
"Double your pleasure, Your Highness. And they're both all yours."
"I… I…" Padmé stammered, flabbergasted, shocked, embarrassed… she could hardly process the moment.
"Enough of your stalling, love, put that pretty mouth to better use than jawdropping!" Dexter insisted.
"What? What kind of girl do you take me for?!" Padmé looked up at the besalisk, taking her eyes away from his huge double dicks for the first time since their unveiling.
"Aye, don't be kidding yourself. You've got that cock hungry look in yer pretty eyes!"
"My husband is in the other room, Dex." Padmé said affirmatively, but in truth her mind was awash in confusion. She kept staring at the massive dicks hovering in the air just centimeters from her face. They were… attractive.
"That lad is fast asleep. And don’t worry, I've got the ears of a gand. I'll know he's coming before the boy even gets out of bed."
"I'm married!" Padmé protested, her voice growing louder, more confident. She looked up at the fat cook, "I'm very impressed with your... cocks, Dex, but this is too much!"
"Bah, all you want is cock right now. And you'll get no better offer than these double proton torpedoes right here, you know that."
Padmé sighed and gazed at the meaty appendages swaying before her delicate, soft face. These were the nicest set of dicks she'd seen this side of Kashyyyk. She hesitated, only for Dexter to continue, "Your breakfast is getting cold, Your Highness. You could at least warm it up a bit."
The Senator huffed, and smirked up at him. "Real cute, Dex." She looked at the dangling dongs and licked her lips, her mouth was watering. She reached for one cock and then the other, taking hold of them both, her hands quickly falling into a stroking rhythm on either shaft.
"That's it love, follow your natural instincts."
Padmé quickly released the dicks, taken aback by the insinuation. "Excuse me? You think I'm some kind of sl-" Before she could finish her sentence Dexter grabbed the back of her head and shoved her wide open mouth down on one of his erect pricks. Padmé fought back, crying around the cock in her mouth and pushing at his thighs but the besalisk was too strong and kept her face easily pressed onto his huge dick. He didn't push too hard, just shoving the tip past her sweet lips. She tried to spit it out, but to no avail. Dexter eased up on her head, letting her pull off slightly before shoving back down again, further this time, forcing about ten centimeters into her mouth, nearly a third of his length.
The senator kept moaning in protest but her shoving has ceased. Dexter let up again and her pretty face ascended along his shaft again before she shoved it back down, this time driving half his long cock into her mouth and down her throat. She gurgled in response and coughed around the invading shaft. Meanwhile one of Padmé's hands found the neglected twin dick and started to gently stroke it, her other hand going to the base of the first rod and finding his huge, fist-sized testicles dangling underneath.
Dexter let go of the beautiful politician's head and Padmé looked up at him defiantly. Her cheeks were concave as she sucked hard on the thick meat pole buried in her mouth, her face moving back up its length to the tip. She pulled the entire cock from her mouth, drool spilling down her chin. Her right hand gripped its fat girth tightly and made hard, fast strokes. Wordlessly she stuck out her tongue and flicked it over the puffy crown of the dick, looking down at the piss hole as pre-cum oozed out.
"I think I want some of that cream from the source this time, Dex," she said at last and then devoured the dick again, shoving her face down further than before, taking nearly all the huge cock in one gulp.
"Oh fuck love, you're good at that!" Dexter groaned as he looked down at the cock hungry beauty. She slurped and spit her way up and down his dick with a ferocity of a nexu stalking an arboreal octopus. Satisfied with the sloppy coating of drool she'd given the first dick, Padmé moved to the second and repeated herself. Soon both giant rods were soaked and ready to pop. She pounded both shafts in either hand, grinning eagerly at the engorged heads, ready to blast her with a gooey, messy treat.
Like a hose the dicks sprayed the pregnant woman with a deluge of white spunk, drenching her face and chest in the sticky spunk. Padmé held her mouth wide open as shower of semen bathed her.
"Oh, by the Spirits of the Brood Goddess, that was heavenly!" Dexter groaned. He sighed, feeling lightheaded and then stumbled away, returning to the kitchen. Padmé was left soaked in the fat alien's cum.
"Ah… Threepio?" she called out, holding out her arms as they dripped in the white goo.
Instead, Anakin appeared from the hallway to the bedroom. "What in Malachor happened to you?"
Padmé gulped, swallowing another helping of Dexter's junk. "Well… Dexter's cream spilled on me."
Anakin shook his head in dismay. "What a klutz. I'm sorry. I'll go get you a towel."
"Actually, I think I'll need a shower," Padmé said as she stood up. "Why don't you eat without me? But tell Dexter to come back later today… maybe he can feed me properly," she added with a grin.
Thursday, September 24, 2015
In The Shadows
by Pyro with Das Flute
The cavernous corridor was lined with huge, steel columns extending into the distance, maroon carpeting warming an otherwise cold space. Behind Senator Padmé Amidala was the landing pad where craft were still arriving, loaded with soldiers and casualties of the failed invasion of Coruscant. Her mind had been overwhelmed with fear and doubt as both her life and that of her secret husband were put in danger.
“Oh Anakin!” Padmé cried as she hugged the Jedi Knight before her.
“I’ve missed you, Padmé…” He said forlornly.
“There were whispers… that you’d been killed…”
“I’m all right. Feels like we’ve been apart for a lifetime. I might have been if the Chancellor hadn’t been kidnapped. I don’t think they would have ever brought us back from the Outer Rim Sieges.” Anakin moved in to kiss his wife.
“Wait! Not here.” Padmé pulled back.
“Yes, here. I’m tired of all this deception, I don’t care if they know we’re married.”
“Anakin, don’t say things like that!”
The Jedi embraced his wife reassuringly. Feeling her nerves he asked, “Are you all right? You’re trembling. What’s going on?”
“Something wonderful has happened. Ani… I’m pregnant.”
“That’s… that’s… that’s wonderful!”
"What are we going to do?"
"We're not going to worry about anything right now. All right? This is a happy moment. Happiest moment of my life." With that Anakin embraced his secret wife again and stepped back, holding her hands in his. "I have to go now, the Council is expecting me."
"Be safe and I'll see you tonight," Padmé said with muted hopefulness.
Anakin just smiled in response and walked away. She watched him go as he rounded one of the huge columns. Just as he disappeared she heard a throat clear behind her. Padmé was startled, having assumed she were alone. The senator turned quickly and was confronted by three tall clone troopers, clad in their white armor. The one at the center had his helmet removed. His hair was scruffy and sweaty. "Here to welcome back the saviors of Coruscant?"
"Oh…" Padmé gulped, it was apparent they had seen her with Anakin. "Of course. The Senate is eternally grateful for the bravery of men such as yourself."
"I'm glad to hear that. I was worried you only appreciated the Jedi. We do as much living and dying as those super powered freaks."
Padmé didn’t approval of his disparagement of the Jedi, but found that typical among certain ranks. "I understand your frustration…" she looked at his armor, recognizing the meaning of the red markings on his helmet and shoulders. "…Captain?"
"Montano, M’Lady. Captain Montano. These here are Sergeants Visney," he gestured to his right, "and Prost. We're from Drag Company, attached to the 501st Legion." Both of the clones removed their helmets and nodded at her.
"I'm very happy to meet you, Captain, and your men. I'm Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo."
Montano rubbed his chin, "That sounds familiar. Amidala…"
Visney cocked his head. "Oh yeah, I've seen you painted on the side of the Open Circle gunships! You're the Naboo Nymph!"
"That's it!" Montano announced.
Padmé blushed. "Just trying to inspire the troops."
"Well we appreciate it, ma'am," Prost said, finally adding to the conversation. "It's nice to know we're fighting for someone so beautiful."
She smiled. "Thank you, Sergeant Prost. That's very kind of you. But I'm sorry you feel neglected by the Senate for your contributions to the war."
"Well maybe there's something you can do in the Senate, M’Lady," Montano suggested. "Some kind of bill, or special recognition for all the volunteers. It's not just clones and Jedi out there. It's men and women fighting for their homes."
"You're absolutely right. It's all too easy for us in the ivory towers to miss the margins in the statics, but you do deserve more than you're being given."
"If a Jedi gets a smooch from a beautiful senator, we could at least get a kiss on the cheek, right?" Visney offered innocently.
Padmé smiled at him, she didn't want word spreading of her affection for Anakin, that could cause trouble for both of them, and might even lead to their marriage being revealed. She had to make sure she nipped this rumor in the bud, decisively. The senator looked around the chamber. They were just off the main hallway, slightly obscured by the massive columns. She heard a few pats of distant footfalls and the landing pad had quieted down. "I'd say more than a peck on the cheek is in order."
The three exchanged looks, and then Montano asked, "Like a full kiss?"
"Of a sort," Padmé said wryly. "Why don't you three show me your blaster rifles? I think I need to perform a spot inspection." The senator folded to her knees before the men and reached out for their armored crotches. They were speechless and in disbelief. After only a moment’s hesitation they each undid their codpieces and quickly fished out their hardening cocks. "If a Jedi gets a kiss, then you men deserve a proper cock sucking."
Padmé gripped Visney's and Prost's dicks in her hands as she breathed on Montano's. "I'll have to introduce a bill before the Senate in the morning, but till then I hope this will suffice as a way of showing my gratitude."
"Oh fuck yeah," Montano agreed.
"No Captain, fuck my mouth," Padmé corrected. With not another word needed the ranking soldier thrust himself forward into the Senator's open mouth, his fat dick sliding over her outstretched tongue.
Padmé's hands worked the dual dicks on either side of her face with caressing fingers, rubbing pre-cum over the puffy tips of their cocks as they grew to full size.
Montano continued to jam his dick hard and fast into Padmé's receptive throat, until she locked her lips around his rod and held him in place, mewing like a nexu in heat as she slathered her tongue around the hot shaft of his prick.
"Damn Senator, you're good at this," he groaned.
Padmé pulled her mouth off the soaked dick, drool spilling down her chin. “Serving in the Senate has given me a lot of opportunities to practice how best to use my tongue for the betterment of the Republic’s citizens.” The senator turned to left and began to suck Visney's dick, her hand grabbing a hold of Montano's wet shaft to pump away at its length. After a several deep, gagging plunges of her mouth, Padmé swapped over to Prost's and repeated her enthusiastic, hungry cock feasting. The obscene sounds of her gurgling and slurping echoed through the chamber but she had stopped caring. If anyone found them they were welcome to join in.
Before long all three cocks were drenched in the slutty senator's saliva, her mouth working overtime as she rotated amongst the trio, burying her pretty face as far she could go, kissing the bases of their dicks each time. Her long, dangling earrings swung in unison to her thrusting face, bouncing off her neck as she moved from dick to dick.
Visney's was the first to pop, a jet stream flying from the tip of his dick onto her left cheek as Padmé gobbled down Montano's rod for the twenty time. The erotic sight set off Prost as he began to unload onto the Senator's right side. Padmé pulled away just as Montano joined in and she received a barrage of cum from all three men, her mouth held wide open, tongue outstretched as she was showered in sticky warm jizz.
"Holy Mother of Meteors," Montano groaned as the last of his load landed onto the senator's face. "That's quite a welcome home, M’Lady."
Padmé pulled her tongue back inside her mouth and swallowed down a mouthful of cum with a satisfying gulp. Her face was streaked and splashed with white goo and she had to blink several times, the semen dripping from her eye lashes. "I'm happy to give it to such deserving soldiers."
"You know the rest of my company will be arriving shortly. They might appreciate a bit of your gratitude as well," Montano suggested as he tucked away his spent penis.
"Oh really?" Padmé considered.
“The rest of the Drags’ survivors should be arriving on shuttle from the Guarlara soon,” the clone trooper captain. Cato Neimoidia, Belderone, Tythe, Nelvaan, now Coruscant… we took some heavy casualties. We’re supposed to be assigned reinforcement troopers from Centax-2 in a few days, but until then we’ll be on shore leave until the 501st is sent back out.”
“Shore leave, hmm?” Padmé reached into her bodice, fishing through one of her numerous secret pockets used for classified diplomatic missives. Finding what she was looking for, she pulled out a small, black holocard. “I’m afraid I need to be at a meeting of the Loyalist Committee shortly, and I need to freshen up a bit first. But this afternoon… you can find me here. And I’ll be more than happy to give you and your soldiers the reward heroes deserve. Just ask for Talié… the bouncers will point you in my direction.”
“Yes, M’Lady!” Captain Montano said, not fully understanding but willing to go along with whatever the famed Naboo Nymph said. After alien camp followers being the only relief he and his men had had for months, a piece of tail like Senator Amidala was hard to say no on it. He snapped a salute. “You can count on us!”
“I plan on doing just that, Captain… And I hope there are enough that I need to use my both hands and feet,” Padmé replied playfully, already making her way to the spaceport maglev station leading back to the Senatorial embassies.
“What does the card say, Captain?” Sergeant Visney asked.
Montano turned the card over. In the cool light of Coruscant Prime, the card sparkled, throwing up its holographic advertisement: a Coruscant Undercity address for a locale that seemed to be called… Star Whores.
“Boys, I think our luck is looking up,” the clone captain solemnly stated.