bakerstreet | I'll put some Force in you.

Entry tags:

I'll put some Force in you.

Star Sex...Sex Wars?
Whatever, it's a smutty Star Wars AU meme

"A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away..." And cue the text crawl. Only this time, there's some small print involved.

You know the story - rebellions, evil empires, politics, and a mystic harmony called the Force that gives power to those who train in its arts. But what if the tale skewed much more...carnal? Trade and peace talks are sealed with copulation, alien species want to interbreed throughout the star systems, the Empire desires complete sexual domination. As for the Force, those who follow its ways - the Jedi knights - search for physical enlightenment as well as the mental variety.

tl;dr it's a Star Wars AU, but with sex. A lot of sex. A lot of a lot of sex. Don't read too much into it. Have fun, be as serious or as silly as you want.

HOW TO PLAY

Comment with your character info, prefs, kinks, whatever you want to include. IDK it's your life.
Reply to others, use the RNG to get prompts. Or not.
Thread.

PROMPTS

Cantina Girl/Guy: You just work at one of the multiple dives around the galaxy. Let's hope you get decent tips for all those times people squeeze your ass.
Prince/ss: Royalty is in your blood, but that just means you have more duties to your people. Don't get too haughty, or a peasant might put you in your place!
Smuggler: For your ship making the Kessel Run in 12 parsecs, you'll take only one specific type of payment.
Jedi Knight: The Force is with you...and the extra libido that comes with being a Force user is along for the ride, too.
Bodyguard: As a Jedi, you've been put in charge of protecting someone very important. Better guard every part of their body throughly.
Training: The only way to learn to wield the Force is with a partner.
Forbidden Knight/Padawan Love: Under Jedi code, there's only one taboo when it comes to sex: padawans and their masters are not to engage in it. You've broken that taboo, shattered it into a million pieces.
Last Night on...Earth?: The two of you are about to go out on what will be a suicide mission, so it's only natural you don't want to spend the night alone.
Dark and Light: One of you fights for good, the other for evil. You're both dyed in the wool and dedicated, but that's not to say you don't find common ground.
Battle: Lightsaber battles between rivals can get pretty intense.
Slave: Whether you belong to a giant slug alien or someone more humanoid, you were the chains.
Toy of the Empire: The bad guys have caught you. Torture isn't all that you must go through.
Stormtrooper: What's going on under all that armor? Wait, you're a girl?
Powerful Evil: You're higher up on the food chain than your average Stormtrooper, meaning you get to freely indulge in all those dark desires.
Spoils of War: A captured rebel? An important bargaining piece of upper empire management? Perhaps even a refugee from a destroyed planet? Regardless of who you are, you're now at someone's mercy.
Peace Treaty: After longwinded discussions, it's time to sign the treaty between two worlds and put their conflicts to bed. Literally.
Planetary Goodwill: You've been sent out to a planet to engage its people, discover its resources, or convince the government to join the Rebellion/Empire. As such, your body is the ultimate key to diplomacy.
Xenophilia: Not all lovers look human.
Sex in the Cockpit: That is not a proper technique for piloting an X-Wing!
Built for Pleasure: Droids have many purposes, yet they're all built to serve.
A Bounty on Me?: Uh-oh, you've become a lucrative target for bounty hunters! Can you offer up something thats worth more than money to save your hide?
Victory: Your cause is victorious! Time to step up to the stage, get your medal, and screw the princess senseless in front of hundreds of people.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Peter was simply trapped.

None of Peter's abilities worked anymore thanks to the cuffs Beck had attached to his wrists. And those cuffs? They were part of the very few garments he was allowed to wear these days, matching the collar around his neck that had a faint blue glow and buzzed quietly. What kinda tech was that? How could it break the bond between Peter and the Force?

Without it, he was nothing but a regular boy, weak and unable to put up a fight anymore. A boy with jewelry hanging from freshly pierced ears and nipples, bracelets around his ankles and garters on his thighs. A boy wearing nothing but a loincloth for easy access. And it was becoming a tradition of sorts for Lord Beck to grant easy access to Peter for each and every one of his guests. His Master enjoyed tormeting Peter, reminding him of his new place, of what he considered was Peter's only value. A boy that served more than just Quentin's drinks.

A little bruised and still dripping fluids of different colors and thickness, Peter dragged his chain as he moved to a nearby table, pouring more drinks into the empty goblets there as his asscheeks were smacked and pinched.

And then he saw him, sitting among some of the new guests. He recognised those eyes, he'd recognise them anywhere.

A spark of hope lit up.

It was a fine line between being undercover and not. For those that didn't know who he was, or who he was with, he could easily pass as just another patron in this shady dive. But if he was recognised, there wasn't even the point of pretending; the word would get around fast enough anyway.

He had his blaster by his side, one hand drifting down towards his belt whenever he caught anyone looking in his direction for too long. Dividing his attention was a difficult act and he had to keep his mind on the discussion he'd managed to find himself in on, it held crucial information that the Resistance needed.

Head bowed, one finger tapping he table in front of him as he questioned the manifest of the cargo ship they were interested in, Poe felt that feeling across the neck of hiss neck. Another set of eyes on him. His hand moved to his waist again. This attention wasn't moving on. His cover might be shot.

He spoke quicker, pressed more urgently. How long did he have?

Even though the Resistance's pilot had not aroused suspicion around the scoundrels Lord Beck had invited to share some drinks with while discussing business, he was not completely wrong. Peter had only joined the Resistance briefly, before being captured. And who from those fighting against the First Order had not heard of Captain Dameron, the best pilot in the galaxy? A true hero.

The Ongree sitting by Dameron's side elbowed him, only half-interested in discussing business. He pointed at the young slave now filling up Poe's cup. In his opinion the human needed to relax, there would be time to talk about the cargo later.

Nodding towards Beck to show his respects, he grabbed Peter by the wrist and pulled it towards himself, practically drapping the boy over Poe's lap, the bottle of Corellian wine knocked over the table to some of the patrons complains and, equally, laughter.

He'd been resisting the urge to look up and make eye contact, feeling that if he cast his gaze around the room he'd meet eyes with someone the wrong kind of familiar and everything would have to move fast. He needed to stretch this out as long as he could.

The servant leaned over and he caught sight of the jewellery dangling from his pierced nipples. Poe hated that slavery still existed, even after the New Republic had been established. He hated how interested in those sore pink nubs he was. He knew that the boy did more than wait tables and-

Maybe the Ongree caught how uncomfortably interested he was as well. The son of a blaster certainly knew how mess with him.

"Ah!" Poe's hands went up in the air, then down on to the bare skin draped over his lap. He tried to fumble to help the slaveboy back up, laughter ringing in his ears, and taunts of how he should get some relief while its being offered for free. "... I-I..."

His hand fell on his bared ass. He was trying not to grope, but it was firm and warm and slick with other patron's fluids. And then the boy turned to look at him, and in that moment of recognition Poe knew he'd been right; he had been recognised. And that he was probably safe.

"Kriff."

The Ongree was set on showing some initiative. Just as Dameron's hand settled on the curve of Peter's abused ass, his companion fumbled with the fly on his pants, quick to get out a purple layered cock out and pointing it at Peter.

The boy instinctively looked down, his attention drawn away from the Resistance's Captain. He looked over at his Master then, but Quentin Beck was too busy discussing business with a man he was hoping to sell some of his tech to. He wasn't paying attention to his property, too used to share it around as both a gesture of courtesy and amusement too.

The green leaky tip of the Ongree's dick poked the corner of Peter's mouth and the boy knew what he had to do. He parted his lips, engulfing as much of that lenght that grew wider with each layer. Despite of the experience Peter had already gained living under Beck's roof all these months, the boy still struggled to accomodate some of the things he was forced to suck, his gag reflex a matter of jokes among Quentin himself and even some of his employees.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut as he focused on relaxing the back of his throat just as the Ongree reached out, pulling on the loincloth to expose the cheeks that were still flushed after Peter's owner had caned him for everyone to see.

He encouraged Poe to have some fun with what he had at hand. There was no reason to be so stiff while doing business.

Of course he didn't want to, he wanted to tell the kid, (Peter? He thought his name was Peter...), that he didn't have to do anything like this. But it wasn't really true was it? Through whatever rough twist of fate have befallen him since they'd met, Peter was a slave now and not only did he have to, it was clear that he had already been doing so for a while.

Poe didn't have much choice, either. He'd worked hard on this job, this cover, he couldn't risk it now. So much more was at stake than one boy's life. And Peter had joined the Resistance. If Poe could explain it, he knew he'd understand.

Scrag, though. If he'd known Peter was here already they could have used him as a spy and saved Poe a heap of time. When the time came, he was going to make sure to get him out of here.

For now though... Poe bit his lip. He could feel himself hesitating and he couldn't afford that. He had to commit to this. He forced himself to laugh dirtily and agree that he could have fun now, work later.

He stroked his palm up the boy's back, between his bony shoulderblades and over the back of his neck. Poe felt sick, planning what he was about to do, but at the same time he felt a dark stirring inside something between his stomach and his chest. An anticipation that trickled smoky tendrils to his crotch. He wrapped his fingers around the back of Peter's neck, kneading the flesh slowly. Then he moved his hand up, into his hair. He took fistfuls of that hair between his fingers and then shoved, the heel of his palm hitting against the base of his skull as Poe forced him down, impaling his throat on that foul Ongree cock.

Peter knew now that Mr. Dameron was undercover. He had sure recognised him and was probably figuring out a plan now, right now as Peter continued doing the only thing he could do and that is pretending nothing had happened. But Captain Dameron would figure out how to get him out of this place and they would return together to the Resistance's base.

Somehow, that hand on his back didn't feel reassuring at all. Peter's shoulders became tense and he had to tell himself that he'd grown accostumed to it, to be uncomfortable with people's touch. But then that laughter sent an uncomfortable shiver up his spine and before he knew it, Dameron was shoving his face and that dick down his throat.

Tears welled behind his lashes as Peter choked, coughing violently as he feared that he would vomit again, the way he had the first weeks under Lord Beck's care. Hands on the Ongree's leg, it took all his willpower not to push himself back and off the client. He was tapping his knee though, almost begging to be set free.

The Ongree made deep, bubbling groan, the teeth in his mouth clenched as his cock hit the back of Peter's throat and flexed against the fleshy pallet. His hand came over Poe's, easing him away and the message was clear: The backend was the part of the slave that was free for him, this end was in use and he didn't need help to fuck the human boy's throat.

Poe took his hand away and nodded his apologies. In his defence, this wasn't the kind of etiquette he'd expected to need to research before starting this job. He turned his attention to the rest of the body over his lap. Peter was coughing and it made his body jerk over his thighs.

"Hey!" Poe looked up, guiltily. It was Quentin Beck, the owner of the establishment, the owner of the boy. Was he caught? "This is fun, try it out, no charge."

A stick was thrown in Poe's direction. It half skittered, half rolled, noisily across the table, but Beck had already moved on. Poe picked it up. It looked a little like a lightsabre, but when he pressed the button it oozed a clear gel and half a dozen tendrils squeezed out the end. Two curled and waved down, reaching for that exposed ass and it was clear what he was meant to do. It was also clear that he was going to have to fuck Peter, at least he could prep him with this first?

Lord Beck's voice was enough for Peter to tense up, his hands desperatedly looking for a firm spot to hold onto as he perked his upper body up, the closest to standing to attention as his owner spoke up. He quickly relaxed. All things considered, that was Quentin's twisted way of showing some mercy.

He had no idea what kinda man Poe Dameron really was. Of course, he considered him a hero, he had always shown kindness and playfullness around the people who approached him in base. But this? Peter had learned the hard way that the only way of truly getting to know a man involved fucking him.

Would his opinion on Captain Dameron change now as he fucked him?

The Ongree barked out an order in a language Peter did not really understand, but his mouth returned down to that oozing dick, the taste a little bitter as he swallowed it. He bobbed his head up and down and, as espected, was rewarded by words that sounded far more pleased.

Soon Peter would feel the loincloth that at times protected the little dignity he had left pulled to the side, his cheeks spread and abused hole, looking raw and still dripping, exposed for Poe to use it.

While Peter's entrance wasn't gaping, it was clear that puffy raw ring wasn't as tight as it could be either. His thighs were sticky with smears of cloudy dried fluid, mostly white, but also yellow and blue, some pink that Poe wondered whether it was blood or not. Since he'd arrived, he had tried not to look too closely around the bar, knowing that it was full of beings in bondage to their master, being abused and used for pleasure. If he'd looked too closely he honestly didn't know if he could stay focused on task and not want to start shooting the place up.

If he had looked, he'd have seen Peter sooner, though. More so, he'd know better when the kid had last been fucked.

"This one doesn-doesn't look fresh," he tried, though he wasn't sure what he might be condemning the slave to if he refused him. "He looks used up and broken."

A Chagrian on Poe's other side slapped his arm, telling to stop being ungrateful for free wares, that there were newer ones if he wanted to pay for it.

"Look. Plenty of use left in this one yet," the blue horned creature told him, leaning over and pulling at Peter's asscheek before shoving his own finger into the slave's hole without hesitation. "Yes. Still plenty tight enough, even for a skinny human cock."

Eyes wide, Poe hurried to bat the hand away. "Yeah! Okay, yeah, I see! Let me-" he turned over the tool he'd been given by Beck in his hands, "Let me prepare him first!"

It was plenty tight enough indeed, so much that it still quite hurt Peter whenever someone shoved its member or a thick finger or a toy into his body whether he was prepared for it or not.

Almost as if to illustrate this, the moment he was penetrated by that long finger the boy tensed up, the puffy, wrinkly ring squeezing around as his cheeks clenched as much as that hand partying him allowed Peter. He arched his back, that layered cock slipping out of his mouth as he bit his lip not to let out an embarrassingly pained cry.

He knew that only encouraged patrons, most of the time...

The Ongree chastised Poe again, telling him to hurry already as he clawed at Peter's hair, gripping it tightly to shove his face back down onto his cock. Peter felt his body go limp almost, dropping down and opening wide to take that pointy dick back into his mouth.

He was making this much worse, Poe realised, the longer he tried to put it off. He shouldn't have shoved Peter's face down onto that cock to start with. It had been a misguided show of bravado, and now he was trying to make up for it, and stalling was only causing more trouble for the kid as well. When he did finally manage to get him away from here, he would have so much apologising to do.

Now, there were several sets of eyes fixed on him, watching what he hoped was at worst what looked like an incompetent human that didn't know how to use a good thing when it was laying over his lap. Biting his bottom lip to focus, Poe used his thumb and index finger to part Peter's cheeks. That poor, abused bud looked dry, despite the shimmer of juices around the rest of his crack and Poe could only imagine how that finger being driven into him would have felt.

He angled the tool down, pressing the button so that thick clear fluid started to drip down onto the area. Then a single tendril squirmed out. The tip of the appendage swirled around the puckered rim, moving the lubrication around carefully, before slowly starting to insert itself into his hole. Poe found himself watching in fascination as it pushed itself in, the limb undulating and growing thicker. Two more tentacles made their way out of the rod, their tapered tips probing the puffy edges of Peter's hole as if they were trying to pull it wider, before also starting to squeeze into his body.

The distinctive layers of the Ongree's cock scratched the back of Peter's throat every time he swallowed it, the sensation far too unpleasant. Peter attempted wrapping his hands, both fists fitting comfortably on the two lower layers, eyes fixed on the client as he hoped his tongue would be enough to keep him happy as he simply teased the third and slimmer top bit.

He was sure he was keeping a good rythm, that he was doing a good job, when he felt his backside being spread and exposed again, the ooze spilled on his abused asshole. It distracted him enough to stall his work, the cool fluid actually numbing a bit the pain after that last patron had fucked him in the ass with a cock as big as Peter's own fist.

As Peter had learned to expect, soon those tendrils were pushing in and spreading him, gapping his hole in a way that surely would allow Poe to see his insides briefly, if he paid enough attention, before those tendrils grew thick to spread the lubrication inside his body.

The Ongree complained as Peter took a moment, head bowed and resting on his lap as he whimpered to the tune the tendrils fucked him to.

There were four of the tentacles stuffed into Peter's hole now, each one easily thicker than his own fingers as they writhed in and out, each at their own pace. Poe was mesmerised by the motion, by the way Peter's entrance was stretched, pulled and pushed to accommodate them.

He caught the annoyed grunts of... His partner he supposed? The Ongree that he was sharing Peter with. And there was Peter with his forehead pressed against the creature's yellowish leathery thigh, shuddering lightly.

He was helping this time, Poe felt. Avoiding Peter getting hit or punished elsehow for not doing it his job. He reached over, sliding his fingers over the slave's neck again, his other hand holding the sextoy dropping lower. He slipped his fingers under Peter's chin and lifted his head in cupped fingers.

"Come on now, you're neglecting my friend here. Don't make us force you again..." His voice was softer than the words though, and Poe hoped he didn't sound too tender to those around him.

When he turned his attention back to what he was doing he found that more tendrils had burst free from the tube. Three more were squeezing themselves in to Peter's hole with varying success, while others were winding around his thighs, tickling over his taint, even molesting his limp cock. One was flicking and squirming against Poe's own crotch, the tip searching for access through his pants.

"I can't - I can't..." Peter gasped as he allowed himself to let his head almost hang as Captain Dameron held his chin for a moment. Normally, he would take anything the patrons did to him without complaints anymore, very aware of the consequences. Every second of torture one in which he wondered if he had already hit his breaking point. Still remember how he had even passed out a few times the first few days in the job.

Fear had made him more resilient, more diligent. Awareness of how Lord Beck did not accept complaints or excuses, and would use force to make his point, kept him on his toes and eager to please.

But having a hero from the Resistance right there? He could be saved. He could be taken out of here. Why wasn't Captain Dameron helping?

Deep down Peter knew. But even as he weakly parted his lips to take the Ongree's dick back into his mouth. He barely moved though, acting more like a sheath to that dick than someone eager to make the client reach his peak. How could he move? How could he perform when he was being stuffed, impossible stretched?! Whenever cocks as big as the ones that had fucked him last enjoyed his hole, Peter became a ragdoll, allowing others to do as they pleased.

The Ongree was not pleased at all at them moment and, just as those tendrils stole a pained moan from the boy, his head was shoved down until his choked again on that lenght.

The other human sitting across the table snorted at the show, encouraging Poe to get those tentacles out already and fuck that ass. Well, not all the tentacles. Had he ever had one of those wrapping around his dick as he nailed a whore?

Poe winced as he watched Peter's head get used like an inanimate object, manipulated and shoved down on the cock. Just some sort of sleeve to masturbate with now. That tendril on his own dick hadn't found a way through his clothes, but gathered in coils over them, shaping out his cock, which he now realised was hard and straining against both his pants and that lightly squeezing limb.

He glanced at the other human sitting opposite him and nodded, his mouth feeling dry. At least there wasn't much doubt that he could go through with the mechanics of doing this, even if morally he was struggling.

"Yeah..." He fingered the buttons on the toy, wondering how fast the tentacles would retract. If they would leave Peter gaping. "I want to fuck him on this table, give the rest of you the show you deserve!"

And steal him away from that Ongree, at least for a short while, give him a break. Could he buy Peter, maybe? Take him off Beck's hands without breaking cover. Or at least rent him for the night; get a room here and let the poor boy rest after this ordeal.

He retracted the tentacles, moaning lightly as the one on his crotch slithered away. Peter's hole was puffy and loose, yet swollen enough that he didn't really gape. Poe couldn't stop that thought that it looked like it would massage and swallow up his cock so well.

"Come on, get up." He put his hands on Peter's hips and tried to guide him to lay on the table. The Ongree complained but Poe had about had enough of him and snapped more in character than he'd managed since Peter landed on his lap. "Oh, shut up, sleemo! Go pick out a fresh one if you want a throat to come down!"

The rest of the table laughed at the chastisement and he didn't argue back.

Coughing violently, Peter's drool connected his lips to that cock as it was spat out of his mouth. Once again the boy feared he would be sick, but thankfully he was only left with a bad taste in his mouth in almost a warning.

His arms shook slightly as he pushed himself up, moving to the table and lowering himself on it, thankful to be able to rest after what had been an early but already too long night for him.

Cussing and shoving Poe, the Ongree pushed back his chair and decided to go fetch something stronger than drinks, not wanting to accept he would probably follow Poe's advice.

The man who sat across from Poe meanwhile used his index finger to play with Peter's mouth in an almost innocent way. He hooked it around his teeth, forcing the boy's mouth open, poking at his tongue, stroking his lower lip with his thumb.

"I'm suprised Beck has not taken the teeth off yet."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'll put some Force in you.

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