Chapter 5: Next Conquest
The smoke of Zeltros smelled different than the battlefield had. Sweeter. The air above Aurelia-Vael hung heavy with perfume and salt and the burnt sweetness of shattered synth-glass, and beneath it all, the sour iron tang of a city that had surrendered too fast to fight.
Ahsoka walked through the main boulevard of the alabaster city like she already owned it, because she did. Her boots crushed rose-quartz dust under their soles. Her flagship sat in orbit, her troops held the starport, and her name had been on the lips of every Zeltron official who had knelt in the amphitheater an hour ago, trembling in their silks.
She wore no shirt. The climate was warm, the humidity thick off the Southern Equatorial Sea, and Ahsoka did not dress her body for anyone's comfort. Sweat ran down the carved valleys of her back, catching the bioluminescent glow rising from the lagoon, and every Zeltron she passed stared. The pink-skinned civilians pressed themselves against the walls of their sky-terraces as her escort cleared the street, and their eyes went where eyes always went. To her shoulders. To her arms. To the obscene outline of the cock that shifted, heavy, inside her combat trousers with every stride.
Good. Let them look.
The governor's adjutant, a slender male with lavender skin, hurried at her elbow with a datapad full of surrender terms. Ahsoka did not read them. She had not read anything in a month that wasn't a tactical grid.
"Your pleasure quarter," she said, and her voice rolled down the empty boulevard, deep enough that the adjutant flinched from it like from thunder. "Where."
"The, the Amphitheatres of Veren, Great Lady, along the eastern terraces, but the district surrendered, they opened their doors, they only wish to serve, if you would just permit them to demonstrate their loyalty, the Zeltron people are famous for our hospitality, and..."
"Take me there."
The adjutant took her there.
The pleasure quarter had not been burned. That was the first thing Ahsoka noticed. The war had come to Zeltros like a tide and receded from this district untouched, leaving the suspended gardens hanging green and dripping over open colonnades, leaving the courtyards lit with lanterns the color of warm flesh. Zeltron women lined the colonnades now, watching the armored column pass, and they were not afraid the way the officials had been afraid. They were curious. Their species radiated emotion like furnaces radiated heat, and Ahsoka could feel it washing against her in waves, awe and hunger and want, the whole district drowning in its own pheromones.
They stopped in a courtyard with a lily-pool and a colonnade of rose-quartz pillars. The madam of the house, a broad-hipped Zeltron woman in translucent crimson, bowed low and stayed low.
"Great Lady. Aurelia-Vael offers you its finest."
Ahsoka looked over the line of women assembled in the colonnade. Zeltrons, every one. Pink and magenta and deep rose, petite and plush and curved, faces made for pleasure, bodies built soft in all the places soldiers built hard. Beautiful, all of them. Expensive-looking.
Not one of them was what she wanted.
She turned away from the line, which drew a ripple of panic through the assembled house, and walked the courtyard herself. She looked at their skin, their hands, the swell of their hips. She was being unfair and she did not care. She was an apex creature and she had crossed a war zone to be unfair in person.
Then she saw her.
The woman was not in the line. She stood apart, near the lily-pool, a serving tray forgotten in her hands, and she was staring at Ahsoka's body with an expression that had no shame in it at all. Her skin was a deep rose-pink, almost coral, and her hair was black as wet stone, worn long and loose past her shoulder blades. She was tall for a Zeltron, nearly five and a half feet, with wide shoulders and a heavy, full chest that strained the thin white wrap she wore, and hips that flared like she had been sculpted to be gripped. Her lips were dark and wet and parted.
She was staring at Ahsoka's arms. Ahsoka felt the woman's gaze on her biceps the way she felt sunlight.
"You," Ahsoka said.
The tray dropped. Water and lily-petals spread across the courtyard stones.
"Name."
"Saari, Great Lady," the woman said, and her voice shook, but she did not lower her eyes. Zeltrons. Even their fear came out as wanting. "Saari Venn."
"Everyone out."
The madam bowed and scattered the staff in seconds. The colonnade emptied. The courtyard was left to the pool, the lanterns, the falling gardens, and the two of them.
Ahsoka crossed the stones slowly. She stopped an arm's length from the woman and let her size do the talking. Saari barely reached her collarbone. Ahsoka looked down at her, and Saari looked up, and her breath was coming faster, her chest rising under the thin wrap, her dark nipples already visible as hard points through the fabric.
"You are staring," Ahsoka said.
"Yes," Saari whispered. Her pheromones were flooding the courtyard now, Ahsoka could taste them, sweet and thick, the scent of a Zeltron in heat. Her species could not lie with their bodies even when they wanted to with their mouths. This one did not want to lie. "I've never seen a body like yours. Never. Not in my whole life. I couldn't stop."
Ahsoka reached out and took her jaw in one hand. Her fingers wrapped the woman's whole chin, thumb and forefinger framing her face, and Saari's knees visibly weakened.
"You want to touch these?" Ahsoka flexed her free arm. The bicep swelled, hard as rock, veins surfacing along the bronzed skin, and Saari made a sound, low and ruined, somewhere between a moan and a whine.
"Oooh yes. Please. Mmmmphhh, please."
"Then touch. You get one minute. Then I decide what you're worth."
Saari's hands came up fast, almost desperate. Both palms flat against Ahsoka's forearm, then sliding up over the swelling muscle, fingers trying to wrap and failing. She squeezed. She dug her nails in slightly, feeling the hardness, and her whole body shivered.
"By the stars," she breathed. "You're so... You're like stone, you're like, oh, force,
how hard~"
Ahsoka flexed harder and Saari's legs gave. She sagged, caught herself on Ahsoka's arm, and ended up pressed against Ahsoka's side, cheek nearly against the slab of her pec, hands wandering over the ridges of her abs through the sweat-slick skin.
Ahsoka grabbed a fistful of that black hair, and pulled her head back to look at her face. Saari's pupils were blown wide. Her mouth hung open. "You reek, Zeltron. Your whole species does. You're drowning in your own heat and you've soaked your wrap already."
Saari gasped, hips twitching. "I can smell you too. You smell like a male, like the most male that's ever, please, I've never wanted anything like this, take me, use me, I don't care, please..."
Ahsoka ripped the wrap off her.
One pull. The thin fabric tore from shoulder to hip and fell away, and Saari Venn stood naked in the lantern light, pink skin flushed darker with arousal, heavy tits swaying free with big dark nipples stiff and aching, a soft, fit belly tapering to wide hips and the neat landing strip of dark hair above a cunt that was visibly glistening, already dripping down her inner thighs.
"Hands behind your head," Ahsoka said.
Saari obeyed instantly. Elbows out. Full presentation. Her tits thrust forward, her throat exposed.
Ahsoka stepped back and pulled her trousers down.
The cock came out heavy and half-hard and thickening as it swung free, twelve inches of it even softening toward full, the shaft veined and thick, and beneath it the balls hung enormous, each one bigger than Saari's clenched fist, heavy and full and drawing the woman's stare like gravity.
Saari's mouth fell open further. Her legs shook.
"Oh," she said. "Oh no. Oh, that's not going to..."
"It is."
Ahsoka stepped forward and gripped her by the hips, fingers sinking into the plush flesh, and walked her backward until her bare ass pressed against the cold rose-quartz pillar. Then Ahsoka dropped to one knee, because she did what she wanted, and wanted this first.
She dragged her tongue up Saari's inner thigh.
The woman screamed. Actually screamed, a short sharp cry, and grabbed the pillar behind her for balance. Ahsoka licked up the trickle of her own slick from her skin, tasting Zeltron pheromone, sweet and heady like spiced fruit, and then pressed her mouth to the pink cunt itself and began to eat.
She was not gentle. She was thorough. Her tongue was broad and strong and it dragged up the whole length of Saari's slit in one long flat stroke, and Saari bucked so hard she nearly cracked her skull on the pillar. Ahsoka's hands clamped her hips to the stone and held her there, pinned, and she worked the cunt with slow, devastating pressure, lips sealing over the clit, sucking, tongue circling, then plunging deep into the hole and curling.
"Ah! Ah! Ah fuck! Fuck!"
Saari was loud. Zeltrons were loud. She wailed and sobbed and babbled, her hands abandoning the pillar to tangle in her own hair, her heavy tits bouncing with every heaving breath.
"I'm cumming, I'm cumming, oh stars, I'm..."
Ahsoka drove two fingers into her while her tongue worked the clit and Saari's orgasm broke over her like a wave hitting rock. Her whole body seized, arched, her cunt clamping down on the fingers and flooding, squirting across Ahsoka's knuckles and wrist, spraying the stones. She came for a long time. She shook through it, wailing, and Ahsoka kept licking until the shaking turned to twitches and the twitches turned to pleading.
"Stop, please, I can't, too much, I'll die, I'll..."
Ahsoka stood.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked down at the wrecked woman sagging against the pillar, legs gone, barely upright, sweat-slicked and flushed deep coral from hairline to chest.
"Turn around," Ahsoka said. "Present that fat ass to me."
Saari turned on jelly legs and did it. She bent at the waist, hands gripping the stone, and pushed her huge round ass out. From behind, her pink cunt was visibly swollen and gaping and dripping, and above it the tight pucker of her other hole clenched.
Ahsoka pressed the fat head against Saari's entrance.
The woman whimpered. Her hands tightened on the pillar.
Ahsoka pushed.
The head popped through, spreading the pink cunt wide around the thick shaft, and Saari made a broken noise, and Ahsoka kept pushing, inch by inch, forcing the impossible girth into the tightest channel she had felt in weeks, the walls fluttering and stretching and gripping her like a hot fist.
"Stars, Stars! It'ssplitting me! It's so big, I can't, I—AH!!!"
Ahsoka's hips met her ass with a heavy slap. Hilt deep. Bottomed out. Saari's entire body shuddered and her head hung and her breath came in ragged, reverent sobs.
"Full!" she wept. "Oh, I'm so full! you're in my fucking womb! I feel you in my fucking WOMB!"
Ahsoka gave her three seconds. Then she started to fuck.
She built fast. Long slow strokes first, dragging almost all the way out, letting the Zeltron feel every vein, every inch of the withdrawal, then slamming back in to the root. Then faster. Then hard, deep, brutal strokes that shook the woman's whole body, that made her heavy ass ripple and clap against Ahsoka's pelvis, that drove animal grunting sounds out of Saari's throat with every impact.
"Grip it," Ahsoka growled, and brought her hand down hard on one pink cheek. The crack of it echoed off the pillars. A red handprint bloomed on the soft flesh. "Milk my cock with that fat ass."
Saari did her desperate best, clenching and rolling her hips back into the thrusts, and Ahsoka fucked her through it, one hand fisted in her black hair, the other spanking her ass in rhythm, left cheek, right cheek, until both were blazing red and Saari was cumming again, screaming, soaking Ahsoka's balls with her squirt, the heavy sack slapping her clit with every stroke.
"Again," Ahsoka snarled when the orgasm passed. "You'll cum when I say. And I say a lot."
She dragged her out of the courtyard. She did not pull out first. She kept Saari impaled, lifted her bodily off her feet by the ass and thighs, and carried her, cock buried in her, across the stones to the poolside couch beneath the hanging gardens. She sat down on the edge with the woman on her lap and started bucking up into her, hands full of pink ass and thighs, and Saari was bounced on her cock and sobbed her devotion, calling her Daddy, losing language entirely as the orgasms piled up.
"God!" Saari gasped immediately. "You are so—AH—b-big!!!"
She was wrecked above Ahsoka, trembling, eyes crossed, drooling, muttering something like gratitude.
Ahsoka's hands opened. She let go of Saari's hips entirely and dropped her.
The Zeltron fell the last inch with a wet, meaty slap, her whole weight landing on the twelve inches buried inside her, the cock hammering up into her womb in one sudden plunge. Saari shrieked. Her arms flailed, her huge tits swung, and her cunt spasmed around the intrusion just from the fall alone.
"Ride," Ahsoka said.
Saari scrambled to obey. She shifted her knees wider on the couch cushion, dragging her legs up until they straddled Ahsoka's thick quads, her pink feet braced against the muscle. Her hands found her own thighs for balance. Then she started to move.
She lifted herself, slow and shaking, dragging her soaked cunt up the veined shaft until only the fat head remained inside, and dropped back down. The impact jolted through her whole body. She did it again, faster, and again, and soon she found a rhythm, bouncing on the monstrous cock with her ass clapping down against Ahsoka's pelvis on every stroke.
Ahsoka leaned back. She draped her arms along the back of the couch, lazily, on either side of her head, and did nothing. She watched.
Saari rode like her life depended on it. Her black hair flew around her flushed face. Her heavy tits bounced in wild, opposing rhythms, nipples stiff and dark. Below all that, her wide hips worked, rolling and slamming, and her ass, that enormous round pink ass, jiggled and rippled with every descent, cheeks clapping together at the bottom of each stroke with a sound like wet applause.
"Twerk it," Ahsoka said. "Work that fat ass for me. Show me what it's for."
Saari whimpered and obeyed. She stopped the bouncing and started to grind, rolling her hips in circles, making her ass cheeks shake and clap against Ahsoka's thighs deliberately, muscling the cock around inside herself, milking the shaft with her walls. She looked down at the hulking body beneath her, at the mountain of bronze muscle sprawled out relaxed and effortless, and the sight broke something loose in her.
"Oh, stars," she moaned. " You're so big. You're so strong. I'm nothing on top of you, I'm just a little toy on your cock, I'm..."
Her voice dissolved into wailing. Zeltron pheromones poured off her in visible waves now, the whole courtyard thick with the sweet reek of her heat, and the couch beneath them was starting to soak through. Her cunt drooled around the shaft with every stroke, slick flooding down Ahsoka's balls and dripping off the sack onto the cushions, staining the fabric dark.
"I can feel you in my stomach," Saari sobbed, slamming herself down harder. "Every time I sit on it it goes into my stomach. You're reshaping me. You're ruining me for anything else. I don't want anything else. I only want this. I only want you. Daddy, please, please let me cum, I'm so close, I..."
"Cum."
Saari screamed. Her back arched, her head snapped back, and she squirted, a hard jet of clear fluid bursting out around the cock plugged inside her, spraying Ahsoka's flexed abs and the couch and the stones beyond it. Her whole body convulsed on top of the muscle mountain. Her cunt clamped and gushed and clamped again, and Ahsoka watched it all with half-lidded eyes and a flat, satisfied expression, her arms still folded behind her head, her heartbeat barely elevated.
She was nowhere close. Her cock throbbed inside the fluttering pink channel, hard as the rose-quartz pillars, heavy with cum she had no intention of spending yet. Not yet. She watched the woman wreck herself and thought, with the calm of a general surveying taken ground, that this one would be bred. Soon. She could see it already, the swell of that belly, the tits filling heavier. Just not now. She wanted more first. She wanted this body broken in completely, taught its duties, before she put a child in it.
"Cumming," Saari gasped, barely seconds later, still shaking. "I'm cumming again, I can't stop, it won't stop..."
Her third orgasm rolled through her while she was still twitching from the second. She rode through it, or tried to. Her pace was degrading, the strokes shorter, the drops clumsier, her powerful thighs trembling visibly with fatigue. She forced herself up the shaft and forced herself back down, gritting her teeth, sobbing, driven by something beyond her own strength.
"Harder," Ahsoka said. "You're slowing down."
"I can't," Saari wept. "I'm trying, Daddy, I'm trying, my legs are gone, you're too big, it takes everything just to..."
Saari cried out and pushed through it. She dropped herself onto the cock again and again, impaling her wrecked cunt on the fat shaft through a fourth orgasm that made her slap a hand over her own mouth and scream into it, through a fifth that made her legs buckle so badly she nearly fell sideways off Ahsoka's lap. Her body glistened with sweat. Her hips stuttered. Every drop down onto that stallion-sized cock punched the air out of her lungs.
And then Ahsoka moved.
It was sudden, total, the way a landslide is sudden. Her arms came off the couch, her hands locked around Saari's waist, and she flipped the woman off her cock and over in one motion, standing up off the couch in the same beat. Saari landed on her hands and knees on the cushion, sprawled, dizzy, her empty cunt gaping and dripping, and before she could even lift her head, the fat tip of Ahsoka's cock nuzzled back into that soaked pink entrance.
She did not warn her. She did not ease in. She slammed the whole twelve inches home in one brutal stroke.
Saari's scream cracked the lantern-lit air. Her arms buckled and Ahsoka caught her hips and held her up, impaled, hilt-deep, the huge balls swinging forward to slap her clit. Then Ahsoka started to fuck, and there was nothing of the lazy observer left. This was the beast from the battlefield, the conqueror, hips hammering forward in deep, punishing strokes that made Saari's entire body lurch along the couch cushions, her heavy tits dragging across the fabric, her ass clapping against Ahsoka's pelvis like drums.
"YES! YES! OH STARS, YES, FUCK ME!" Saari howled, her ass bouncing and rippling from the impacts, the red handprints from earlier darkening fresh. "BREAK ME! BREAK YOUR LITTLE TOY! I'M YOURS, I'M YOURS, I..."
Ahsoka's hand fisted in her black hair and shoved her face forward, down into the backrest of the couch.
Saari's cheek pressed into the cushion where Ahsoka had been sitting, where that immense body had sprawled and sweated while she rode. The smell hit her like a drug. Thick, male, musky sweat, the raw scent of the conqueror who had taken her city and was now taking her body, soaked into the fabric, and Saari's mind went white. Her tongue slid out and pressed flat against the cushion, licking at the ghost of her owner's scent, her mouth pulling into a wide, stupid, slack smile that Ahsoka, pounding away behind her and staring down at the jiggling ruin of her ass, could not see.
"Cum," Ahsoka growled.
Saari came so hard she saw nothing. Her scream was muffled into the backrest, her whole body seizing, her cunt clamping around the pistoning shaft and erupting, squirting down onto the couch, running in streams down her thighs. Ahsoka fucked her straight through it, never slowing, the head punching into her womb with every stroke.
"Again," Ahsoka snarled, slapping her ass, and Saari came again, wailing into the sweat-soaked cushion, her legs shaking uselessly, held up only by the iron grip on her hips. The orgasm tore through her and Ahsoka kept her impaled and kept moving, dragging another climax out of her almost immediately, this one a rolling, shuddering thing that made her toes curl and her painted nails claw grooves into the couch.
"Please," Saari babbled into the fabric, drool stringing from her smiling mouth, her eyes rolled back. "Please don't stop. Ruin me. I was made for this. I was made for your cock. I'm nothing, I'm your slut, I'm your Zeltron breeding whore, please, please..."
Ahsoka's hips crashed into her again and again, relentless as artillery. Sweat ran down the carved planes of her chest and dripped onto the pink ass below. Her heavy balls slapped Saari's clit on every stroke, swollen and churning, full of the load she was holding back by pure will. She watched the ass swallow her cock, watched it shake and clap, and felt the sixth orgasm grip the woman beneath her, felt the gush of it splash her thighs.
"Look at you," she rumbled, voice deep enough to feel in the spine. "Five minutes on my cock and you're a slut."
"I'm a slut!" Saari agreed blissfully, slurring. "Oh, stars, I can feel it in my womb. You're going to put a baby in me, aren't you? I can feel it. I want it! Please breed me! Breed your little Zeltron slut! Give me your strong, perfect..."
"Not yet."
The words landed on Saari like a second cock. She moaned, long and broken, and her cunt answered before her mind did, clamping down in another climax, the seventh, spraying again.
"Not yet," Ahsoka repeated, and hammered deeper, claiming every inch of the channel over and over, laying her mark into the body of the city she had conquered, one brutal stroke at a time, while the woman beneath her smiled her stupid smile into the couch and screamed her devotion into the fabric that smelled like him.
The scream that cut through the courtyard was not Saari's.
A woman's voice, sharp and cultured, rang out from the colonnade arch. "What is the meaning of this? Who gave leave for..."
The voice stopped.
A Zeltron noblewoman stood at the head of the steps, draped in layered silks of violet and gold, silver combs holding back deep magenta hair. Jewels hung at her throat and ears. Her face had been painted for an evening function that had clearly been abandoned mid-celebration, and her wide eyes were locked on the scene at the poolside couch.
On the woman bent over the couch. On the enormous cock hammering into her.
Ahsoka did not stop.
She looked up from Saari's rippling ass, kept her rhythm exactly as it was, and let the noblewoman watch a full ten seconds of it. The wet slap of hips on plush pink flesh filled the courtyard. Saari, face buried in the cushion, barely registered the interruption. She was too far gone, wailing her devotion into the fabric.
"Close the door on your way out," Ahsoka said, "or stay and watch. Those are your options."
The noblewoman's mouth opened. Nothing came out.
Her pheromones betrayed her before her tongue could. Even from the couch, Ahsoka smelled the shift, the spike of heat cutting through the noble's shock like a knife through fruit. Zeltrons could not hide it. Her body was announcing her want to the entire courtyard, sweet and thick, and the flush crawling up from the collar of her silks confirmed it.
"I am Lady Miren Vahl," the woman managed, lifting her chin, clinging to rank like a railing in a storm. "I sit on the Council of Aurelia-Vael. This is my district's house. You cannot..."
Ahsoka slammed into Saari particularly hard. The Zeltron shrieked. Her ass cheeks clapped loud enough to echo off the pillars.
Lady Miren's words died again. Her thighs pressed together.
"Cannot what?" Ahsoka's voice rolled out, deep and unhurried, in perfect counterpoint to the brutal pace of her hips. "Speak up. I can barely hear you over your city cumming on my cock."
"I..." The noble's painted lips trembled. She took one step down the stairs. Then another. Her eyes never left the spectacle, the mountain of sweat-slicked muscle driving into the wrecked pink woman, the heavy balls swinging and slapping, the huge round ass jolting with every stroke. "I came to... to negotiate terms for the house. The occupation. There are protocols for..."
"I don't negotiate with cunts."
Ahsoka pulled out of Saari in one long drag, the soaked shaft sliding free with a wet sound, and Saari whined at the loss, gaping and empty. Ahsoka straightened to her full height, cock swaying heavy and thick between her thighs, glistening from root to head, and walked toward the noblewoman across the wet stones.
Miren Vahl did not retreat. Her feet would not obey the instruction her pride was sending them.
Ahsoka stopped an arm's length away. The height difference was obscene. The noble stood barely past her collarbone, and the cock hung level with her jeweled belly, close enough that its heat radiated through her silks.
"Your house sent this one to me and she can't walk anymore," Ahsoka said. She hooked a thumb toward the couch, where Saari lay slumped and twitching, cum and slick dripping from her stretched cunt onto the cushions. "The rest of your staff ran. You walked in. You watched. You're soaking through your silks right now, I can smell it from here."
"That is not... my body's response is not..."
"You're a Zeltron. Your body doesn't know how to lie. That's the only honest thing in this whole pink city."
Miren's breath was coming fast. Her chest heaved under the layered silk, nipples stiff enough to show through three layers of fabric. Her pheromones poured off her now, shame and hunger braided together, and Ahsoka breathed it in like a vintage.
"You've never been fucked properly in your life," Ahsoka said. "Have you? A council lady. A great noble. You've had a hundred soft-handed lovers who asked permission for everything, and not one of them ever made you scream."
Miren's jaw worked. Her dignity made one last stand.
"I am married," she said.
"To who?"
"To Lord Cassel Vahl. He commands the... he is away. With the fleet. The fleet that..."
"The fleet I killed," Ahsoka finished. "So you're a widow with a husband not yet declared dead. Good. That's my favorite kind."
She reached out and took the noble's throat in one hand. Not squeezing. Just holding. Claiming the space. Miren's knees dipped, her silver combs chiming softly as her head tipped back into the grip, her throat offered up without a fight.
"Your pulse is hammering," Ahsoka rumbled. "Through my fingers. Like a trapped bird."
"Please," Miren whispered. The word could have meant anything. Ahsoka decided it meant what she wanted it to mean.
She walked the noblewoman backward, one hand on her throat, until Miren's back met a rose-quartz pillar. Then she released the throat, hooked her fingers into the front of those layered silks, and tore.
The fabric parted from throat to hem in one pull. Violet and gold fell away in ribbons, jewels scattering across the stones, and Lady Miren Vahl stood against the pillar in nothing but her skin and her perfume. Her body was different from Saari's. Taller. Leaner. Smaller breasts with pale rose nipples, a flat stomach, long elegant legs, and a narrow patch of darker magenta hair between hips that still flared in that unmistakable Zeltron curve. Her skin had flushed deep violet-pink from hairline to navel.
She was dripping down her thigh. Anyone could see it.
"You walked in here to negotiate," Ahsoka said, "so negotiate. Get on your knees and negotiate."
Miren hesitated for exactly one breath. Then she sank down onto the stones, knees on rose-quartz dust, looking up at the cock looming over her face. Twelve inches of it, slick with another woman's cum, veined and heavy, the enormous sack beneath swinging with the weight of a load she could not yet imagine.
"Terms," Ahsoka said.
Miren leaned forward. Her tongue, painted dark, extended and touched the head. She licked once, slowly, tasting salt and Saari and Ahsoka all at once, and her eyes fluttered shut.
"This is my opening offer," she breathed.
"Bad opening. Open wider."
Miren opened her mouth. Ahsoka fed her the head, and the noble's lips stretched around it, her cheeks hollowing, her throat already flexing in anticipation of what was coming. She could not fit much. Her hands came up and gripped what she could not take, small elegant fingers that wrapped less than halfway around the shaft, and she worked what she could reach with desperate, reverent thoroughness.
Ahsoka let her struggle. She looked down at the magenta hair, the silver combs, the council lady bobbing on her cock with her elegant throat bulging, and felt the familiar cold satisfaction settle over her like armor.
"Breathe through your nose," she said, and pushed deeper.
Miren gagged. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, ruining her paint. Ahsoka held her there, three inches deeper than she could manage, feeling the throat spasm around the head, and then withdrew to let her gasp.
"I have a proposal," Miren rasped, drool stringing from her chin to her jeweled fist. Her voice had lost every trace of the council chamber. "My house. My district's houses. All of them. Whatever you want, every night, the finest women on Zeltros, delivered, presented, prepared..."
"I don't want delivered women."
Miren blinked up at her.
"I take what I want myself. That's what the word taking means. Your district will learn the difference." Ahsoka gripped the magenta hair. "Now be useful. Get it wet. All the way down. Both hands on my thighs, no hands on my cock. You swallow it or you go home with nothing."
Miren's eyes widened. She understood. Her hands released the shaft and gripped Ahsoka's thighs instead, fingers sinking into the granite muscle, and she leaned in and forced herself down.
The throat bulged. Her nose pressed into the smooth skin above the root, into the heavy male scent of Ahsoka's body, and she held there, shaking, gagging around the intrusion, her eyes streaming and locked upward on the face of her conqueror.
Ahsoka flexed her thighs under the noble's hands. Miren moaned around the cock at the feel of the muscle swelling beneath her palms.
"Good," Ahsoka said. "A council lady with a throat built for this after all."
She let her up. Miren came off the shaft coughing and sobbing and immediately dove back down, hungry now, her shame burned away by the sheer gravity of the thing in her mouth. Behind them, on the couch, Saari had roused herself onto her elbows and was watching with glazed, envious eyes, one hand drifting between her own thighs.
Ahsoka pulled the noble off her cock by the hair.
"On your feet. Against the pillar. Same pose as your sister over there."
Miren scrambled up and presented herself against the rose-quartz, bent at the waist, long legs straight, her leaner ass pushed out, cheeks flushed violet. From behind, her cunt was visibly swollen and gleaming, and it clenched as Ahsoka's shadow fell over it.
Ahsoka pressed the head against her.
The noble made a small, controlled sound, a lady's sound, and Ahsoka pushed past it. The head spread her open and the channel clamped down, tighter than Saari's, untrained, and Miren's knuckles went white against the stone.
"Stars... it's... I've never..."
"I know," Ahsoka said, and drove in.
She did not stop at halfway. She buried the entire length in one stroke, and Lady Miren Vahl's dignity left her body in a single raw scream that rang off the pillars and out across the hanging gardens. Her whole body arched, her painted toes scraping the stones, her smaller tits swinging as her chest heaved.
"You're in my stomach," she wept. "Oh stars, I can feel it, you're IN me, you're..."
Ahsoka fucked her.
There was nothing gentle in it. She gripped the lean hips and hammered, deep brutal strokes that made the noble's ass clap against her pelvis, that dragged screams out of Miren in a language that stopped being Basic halfway through and dissolved into pure Zeltron begging. Her pheromones flooded the courtyard so thick the air itself seemed sweet, and every Zeltron within a hundred meters would be feeling it, and Ahsoka did not care. Let the district hear their lady squeal.
"Your husband never made you cum," Ahsoka growled against her ear. "Say it."
"He never... ah! Ah, stars, he never..."
"Say it."
"He never made me cum!" Miren shrieked, and came on the spot, her cunt clamping and gushing around the pistoning shaft, her legs buckling so hard Ahsoka had to hold her up by the hips alone. She sobbed through it, forehead grinding against the pillar, her whole elegant body shaking.
From the couch, a soft voice. Saari, on her knees, watching with naked envy, her fingers working between her thighs. "Daddy... please... I want..."
"Watch," Ahsoka said. "Learn what your duties are going to be. You'll be helping me break in the rest of this city's women. Consider that a promotion."
Saari's eyes lit up like lanterns.
Ahsoka turned back to the noble and flipped her around, pressed her back against the pillar, and lifted her by the ass the way she had lifted Ventress on the battlefield a month ago. Miren's legs wrapped around her on instinct, ankles locking behind the small of her back, and Ahsoka impaled her in one stroke and began to bounce her on the cock like she weighed nothing, the noble's smaller tits bouncing against the slab of her chest.
"Look at me," Ahsoka said.
Miren looked. Her mascara had run in black rivers. Her combs hung by threads. And her eyes, looking up at the sweat-slicked mountain of muscle that was using her body, held the same expression Ahsoka had seen on Ventress's face and would see on a hundred more: total surrender wearing the mask of awe.
"You're going to tell your council," Ahsoka rumbled, fucking her through another orgasm, feeling it rip through the noble's body, "that this district serves me now. Personally. You're going to be my voice on that council, and every word you speak for me, you'll remember my cock while you say it."
"Yes," Miren sobbed. "Yes, whatever you want, I'll..."
"And tonight you're going to lie in your grand bed in your grand house, next to the memory of your husband, and you're going to wait for me to come collect you. Both of you," she nodded toward Saari, "are mine now. You've been assigned."
Ahsoka slammed up into her one final time and held there, hilt-deep, and let go. The load she had been holding all evening erupted in pulses, thick cum flooding the noble's womb in wave after wave, so much of it that it backed up and leaked out around the plug of the shaft, dripping down Ahsoka's heavy balls onto the stones.
Miren wailed her way through her fourth orgasm with the feeling of being bred, clinging to Ahsoka's neck, biting her shoulder, marking the conqueror with her teeth like a claimed animal trying to claim back.
Ahsoka pulled her off and dropped her on the couch beside Saari, where the two Zeltron women slumped together, sweat-slicked and dripping, both of them looking up at her with ruined eyes.
Ahsoka tucked nothing away. She stood over them, cock still thick and dripping, and looked out over the lantern-lit courtyard at the city beyond.
"The house feeds us tonight," she said. "Both of you at my table. Naked. And in the morning," her eyes settled on Miren, "you take me to the rest of your council. One by one."
Lady Miren Vahl, widow of a dead fleet, voice of a broken district, bowed her head on the couch between Saari's trembling shoulders.
"Yes, Great Lady," she whispered. "All of them. I'll give you all of them."