Chapter 5: Barriss Returns with a Proposal
The silence stretched into an hour. A measured, excruciating span of time marked only by the erratic thrum of the ship’s failing systems and the shallow, ragged sound of her own breathing.
Luminara had stopped moving.
The frantic, secretive rocking of her hips had ceased long ago, leaving behind a trembling exhaustion so profound it felt like part of the ship’s structure. The chemical fire had banked, but in its place was a hollow, aching need that was somehow worse. It was no longer a screaming demand, but a cold, clear fact. A part of her landscape, like the binders on her wrists or the taste of blood in her mouth from biting her cheek. The humiliation had settled into her bones, a deep, permanent chill.
She heard the hatch release before she saw it open. The hydraulic hiss was a needle in the quiet.
Barriss descended slowly. Her steps were careful, almost hesitant. In her hand was a canteen and a small medpac. The calculated cruelty from before was gone, replaced by a watchful, assessing tension. She had pushed, yes. But ships broke. People broke. The line was thin, and for the first time, a sliver of doubt had entered her mind. Had she cut too deep, too fast?
She stopped a few feet away, her eyes scanning Luminara’s form.
The Jedi Master was a study in absolute defeat. Naked from the waist up, skin pebbled with cold, she leaned heavily against the beam. Her head was bowed, grey hair a tangled veil. She wasn’t trembling anymore. She was utterly, frighteningly still. But her legs were glistening, the inside of her thighs slick and shining in the blue emergency light. The soaked fabric of her leggings was a dark, confessed secret from the hour before.
Barriss felt a sudden, violent shift in her chest. Not pity. Something more like awe. And a fierce, defensive pride.
“The drugs should have metabolized by now,” Barriss said, her voice quieter than she intended. She set the canteen and medpac on a crate. “The physical effects, anyway. The neuro-chemitterics are slower to fade.”
Luminara didn’t look up. Her voice, when it came, was scraped raw, but eerily calm. “Then what is this?”
She didn’t elaborate. She didn’t need to. The evidence was on her skin, in the air between them—a thick, salty-sweet tension that had nothing to do with Synox or Peptyl.
Barriss moved closer, kneeling just beyond reach. She saw the tear-tracks, the bitten lips, the utter devastation. And she saw the subtle, unconscious press of Luminara’s thighs together, a self-soothing reflex that spoke of a hunger that had outlasted the chemicals. This wasn’t the drug. This was Luminara. Stripped. Revealed.
A slow, incredulous smile touched Barriss’s lips. “That’s not the cocktail. That’s just you, Master. The real you. The one that doesn’t get to come out and play.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re still wet. An hour later. Are you that desperate?”
Luminara finally lifted her head. Her eyes were hollow, red-rimmed, but they held Barriss’s with a terrifying directness. All the layers of Jedi composure, of maternal disappointment, of tactical negotiation, were gone.
All the layers of Jedi composure, of maternal disappointment, of tactical negotiation, were gone. What remained was a raw, pulsing truth. “Yes,” Luminara whispered, the word a fracture in the quiet. Her gaze didn’t waver. “I am desperate. This… ache. It hasn’t faded. It is a living thing inside me.” She swallowed, the sound painfully loud. “I cannot reach it. My hands are trapped. I tried. I… I tried with my hips, against the deck, against the air. It’s not enough.”
She leaned forward as far as the binders would allow, a supplicant before an altar. “Please, Barriss. You brought this upon me. You stoked this fire. Do not leave me to burn alone in this silence.” A tear broke free, tracing the line of a tattoo on her chin. “I will do anything. Just… make it stop. Or make it complete. I no longer care which.”
Barriss watched the tear fall. A fierce, hot triumph flooded her veins, more intoxicating than any spice. This was the submission she had craved, not of body, but of spirit. “Anything?” she echoed, tilting her head.
“Anything,” Luminara breathed, her chest hitching.
“Then watch.”
Barriss rose slowly to her feet. Her eyes locked on Luminara’s, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her own form-fitting black leggings. She pushed them down in a single, fluid motion, revealing the pale green skin of her thighs, the dark, neat triangle of hair at their apex. She stepped out of the fabric, kicking it aside, and stood naked before her former master.
The blue light carved the lean muscles of her stomach, the curve of her hips. She was younger, harder, a weapon laid bare.
She took two deliberate steps forward until she stood over Luminara, her feet planted on either side of the older woman’s folded legs. From this angle, Luminara could see everything—the taught skin, the subtle glistening folds just visible in the dark thatch of hair.
“You want relief?” Barriss’s voice was low, a dark current. “Earn it. Use that famous Jedi focus. Service me. Lick my cunt. Show me how badly you need this.”
Luminara flinched as if struck. Revulsion, primal and immediate, warred with the gnawing, hollow hunger in her gut. “I will not,” she hissed, but the denial was weak, already crumbling. Her body was leaning forward, drawn by a magnetism she could not deny. The scent of Barriss, musky and intimate, filled her senses.
“Your body says otherwise,” Barriss murmured, looking down at her. She gently spread her own labia with two fingers, exposing the wet, pink flesh beneath. “Look at it. This is what you need. This is the truth you’re starving for. Stop fighting yourself.”
A low, wounded sound escaped Luminara’s throat. Every principle, every memory, every shred of dignity screamed at her to turn away. But the need was a sharper, louder scream. It was a physical compulsion, a yawning emptiness that demanded to be filled. Her mind surrendered with a dizzying rush. This was her penance. This was the muck.
She closed her eyes for a final second, then opened them with a surrendering resolve.
She leaned in, her movement awkward with her arms bound behind the column. Her first contact was tentative, a shaky brush of her lips against Barriss’s outer lips. The taste was startling—salt, musk, something uniquely, intimately Barriss. It was obscene. It was real.
Barriss let out a soft sigh, a hand coming to rest on Luminara’s matted hair. “That’s it. No more thinking.”
The permission, the touch, broke the final dam. A shudder racked Luminara’s frame, and she dove forward with a desperate, hungry groan. She buried her face into Barriss’s pussy, her tongue lashing out to swipe a broad, untrained stripe through the slit. She drank her in, the taste flooding her mouth, overwhelming every other sense. This was not technique. This was consumption.
“Fuck, yes,” Barriss gasped, her fingers tangling tightly in Luminara’s grey hair. She pulled, guiding, but Luminara needed no direction now. The Jedi Master was ravenous, her tongue probing deep, circling Barriss’s clit with frantic, needy pressure. She ate her like a woman possessed, each muffled moan from Barriss fueling her deeper into the act. She was doing this. She was good at this. The shame combusted into a dark, thrilling fuel.
Barriss threw her head back, her free hand bracing against the cold column. The sight below was unimaginable. Luminara Unduli, a Council Master, was muffled deep between her thighs, face slick with her juices, making raw, gagging sounds of effort and want. The unchecked passion, the total abandonment, was a power greater than the Dark Side. It was conquest. It was communion.
“Just like that,” Barriss grunted, her hips beginning to roll against Luminara’s face. “Use your tongue on my clit. Harder. Don’t you fucking stop.” Luminara obeyed, her focus narrowing to this single, filthy task. The world shrank to the taste, the smell, the sounds Barriss made above her. Her own neglected need throbbed in time with her heartbeat, a distant, secondary echo. All that mattered was this, the sweat and the salt and the tight grip in her hair, and the raw, triumphant cries tearing from Barriss’s throat as she climbed, and peaked, and finally came shuddering against her Master’s willing, starving mouth.
Barriss’s body went rigid, her back arching sharply as a choked, guttural cry was torn from her throat. Her fingers clenched spasmodically in Luminara’s hair, holding her face hard against her as waves of brutal pleasure surged through her. She rode it out, shuddering and panting, before her grip finally slackened and she slumped back against the cold column with a long, exhausted sigh.
For a moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing mixing with the ship’s hum. Barriss looked down, watching Luminara’s shoulders heave. The older woman’s face was a slick, glistening mess, mouth still open, eyes unfocused. A thin strand of Barriss’s cum connected her lips to Barriss’s thigh.
Barriss took a second to come down from her orgasm, her own legs trembling. Then, with a deliberate slowness that was more intimate than violence, she knelt in front of Luminara.
Their faces were close, breathing the same spent, humid air. Barriss studied the ruined masterpiece before her. “You’re a quick study, Master,” she whispered, her voice raspy. “All that Jedi concentration must be good for something.”
Luminara said nothing. She just stared, her expression hollow, her body still vibrating with unmet need. The aching emptiness between her own legs was a screaming void now, worse than before.
Ready to fulfil her end of the deal, Barriss reached a hand into Luminara's soaked leggings. The fabric was drenched, plastered to her skin. Her fingertips found hot, slick flesh. Even the slightest touch made Luminara jump with a sharp gasp, her whole body jerking against the binders.
“So sensitive,” Barriss murmured, her eyes locked on Luminara’s. She pressed the flat of her hand against Luminara’s pubic bone, feeling the fierce heat there. “All this for me. All this desperate, hungry wetness, and I left you here to choke on it.”
She shifted her hand, sliding two fingers easily through the swollen, slippery folds. Luminara cried out, a broken, raw sound. Her hips bucked forward, trying to fuck herself on Barriss’s hand.
Barriss finger fucked Luminara vigorously, curling her fingers inside her, scraping a rough, calloused pad against a spot that made Luminara’s vision whiten. The sound was obscenely loud in the metal hold—a wet, rhythmic squelching, each thrust punctuated by Luminara’s ragged breaths. “Is this what you needed?” Barriss growled, her own breath coming faster as she watched Luminara unravel. “This is what you were rubbing yourself against the floor for, wasn’t it? Tell me.”
Luminara’s head thrashed side to side. A sob burst from her, torn between pleasure and utter degradation. Her hips matched Barriss’s rhythm, fucking back onto her fingers with a frantic, shameless hunger. “Please…!”
“Please what?” Barriss demanded, thrusting harder, her knuckles pressing against Luminara’s clit with each punishing stroke. “Use your words. You begged so prettily before. Say it.”
She leaned in, her lips almost touching Luminara’s ear. “Say you love it. Say you love my fingers in your filthy, needy cunt.”
The command broke the last dam. Luminara’s eyes flew open, wide with a terror that was inseparable from ecstasy. “I love it,” she gasped, the admission ripped from a place deeper than shame. Her voice was a shattered, rasping thing. “I love it, Barriss, please, I love it!”
All sense of composure and poise broken, she chanted it, each word a surrender. “I love it, I love it, I love it!” Her body coiled, tensed, and then shattered. A raw, screaming climax tore through her, her back arching wildly as she convulsed against the binders, her inner muscles clamping rhythmically around Barriss’s driving fingers. She shook violently, waves of pleasure so intense they felt like pain washing through every nerve.
Barriss fucked her through it, relentlessly, until Luminara sagged, boneless and sobbing, against the strap holding her wrists. Only then did she slowly withdraw her fingers, gleaming with Luminara’s release.
She held them up, watching the fluid drip in the blue light. Then she brought them to Luminara’s mouth. “Clean them,” she ordered, her voice quiet and absolute.
Eyes glassy, utterly spent, Luminara obeyed without hesitation, her tongue licking her own taste from Barriss’s skin. Barriss watched, a strange, possessive tenderness softening her harsh expression for just a second. Then she leaned forward and kissed Luminara deeply, sharing the taste of salt and sweat and surrender.