Chapter 10: A New Friend

Rising early, the nameless Tusken slave was not ushered into a rough hydroshower reminiscent of the rebel bases she used to frequent. She was not barked at or yelled at. Instead as she gazed upon her new surroundings, she realized that she had her own tub and shower, a far cry from the meager living arrangements of the common dancers’ quarters. It wasn’t a room where she could feel like royalty, she knew that deep down, it only befitted her new status as an escort, a courtesan who was only worth what she was to other men. But it had been too long since she felt this level of comfort.

And beyond that was a nostalgia she couldn’t place, something that went beyond her royal privileges. Sitting on one of her desks was a champagne bottle. Written next to it was a note scribbled in various languages including Basic that read, “BIRTH CONTROL AND DISEASE PREVENTION.” Getting a taste of it, she realized she actually liked the taste, nothing like the foul concoction they fed her on the first floor.

Taking off her dancers’ outfit, she indulged in the sweetness of warm water and luxury for the first time in a long time. She still felt a sense of urgency, knowing where she was, but it just felt so good. There was even a pumice stone for her to take care of her hands and feet. The first real pleasure she could actually enjoy guilt free.

As she was drying off in the bathroom, there was a small tapping sound on the inner wall of the entrance of her apartment.

“Y-yes?” she said, flustered. Her natural accent came out, not the rough sounding common voice she had grown used to emulating.

“Working hours are beginning soon,” said a rough male’s voice. Not a Gamorrean, but given his tone, still a thug. “Get dry and get dressed.”

Not the most welcoming of statements. But compared to the nonstop barking that served as a wake up call in the quarters downstairs, it was almost genial. Going back outside to her room, she went to her wardrobe. She found she still had only her common dancer’s outfit. It was a cruel reminder that nothing had changed. Getting it back on, she went back on out.

Upstairs, things were much different from the lower floor. Everything looked so fine, carpets and plush couches before tables. The men were dressed in varying shades of finery, some in togas, all wearing masks, almost like they were at a party. As different from the men who welcomed her here, as different as a Mon Calamari was from a Twi’lek. But when she saw them looking at her, she recognized an evil look in their eyes, the glower of corrupt senators back in the empire and here in the current republic, the hunger and greed of moffs. Dressed nice but they were scum. Nothing had changed.

High profile men. All species, Cathar’s and Quarren’s in common company with humans, the republic had afforded a wide seat of voices unlike the empire that came before it, but the criminal underworld always gave equality to you if you had the money to make it happen. Some of them she thought she recognized from somewhere, but with those masks, this curious Tusken slave couldn’t place who they were. Men who no doubt what their public image and what claims they had to common decency, were the worst kind of filth to be playing with girls in the capital of the Hutt cartels. All of whom if they recognized her, would seek to use her in one way or another.

The girls were also dressed differently too. They all wore fine robes of varying colors, and the only thing that separated them from that strange pale woman was the fur marking the collar. A status symbol to separate them from the common dancer girls downstairs as well as to better appeal to the fine tastes of the types of clientele that frequented this second floor. And a uniform, just another thing to denote their rank as courtesans.

She heard laughing behind her. The giggling of the girls, she realized how naked she was in the common dancer’s getup compared to them. Holding her arms around herself in an attempt for modesty, she heard a sudden whistling sound directed at her. Only turning her head back, she saw them.

Two Muun noblemen. For her that figured, they were likely corrupt members of the Banking Clan, right at home here on Nal Hutta. It was only the rich of Munnilinst who could afford to go planet hopping.

But they weren’t dressed like noblemen. They had on the clothes of smugglers and gamblers, criminals. Or at least what they thought were criminals. These were still fine looking clothes, coats and jackets she knew the designer brand of, a sheltered little prince’s idea of what the rough types who wandered the big bad galaxy liked to dress in. In their fine clothes that hung off them, she could see these two were tall and skinny, not an inch of muscle on them, they wielded their power with credits rather than strength. No masks either.

They had faint smiles upon their oblong heads.

“First time I’ve ever seen a Tusken bitch unmasked. But hell, if they all look this good underneath, maybe we should have paid a visit to Tattooine when that Jabba was still around, yeah? He probably had a few of these hanging around.”

Annoying words. These men might have been more high class than the ones downstairs. They were still bastards.

But as she got a closer look at them, they didn’t look to be men at all. Her parents raised her to be as open minded as possible in the cruel reign of the empire that only saw humans as people. For as different as the varying species were compared to near humans, she had grown used to recognizing the young types when she saw them. Could see something like pimples on their faces, by the sounds of their voices they were barely more than teenagers if even that. Two stupid kids using their parents’ money to slum around the galaxy.

They would have been laughable anywhere else. Even as she was more open minded, their oblong heads always looked strange to her. But the ignorant stupid looks on their faces that came from being pampered and getting their way put together with the unparalleled arrogance of the very young was a sign of trouble. The urge to shudder ran through her body. She fought it, remaining as stalwart as possible. Any sign of weakness and these brats would be far worse with her.

Two brats acting like big men. In an area where there were real tough guys all over. They looked around at everyone else, sneering. Then one of them grabbed her arm and took her to an uninhabited corner of the area while the other smacked her bare ass the whole time on her little trek. A place where they could still pretend they were as tough as they thought they were.

He reached up under her ass, feeling it like he was touching hot fire. Not the way a man would fondle a woman’s rear, even if he was a thug. His touches were wild and erratic. “Bet you’ve never encountered guys like us, huh?”

She was taking too long to answer. “Don’t you have something to say?” said the other. “Or do you think you’re too good for us?”

She remembered the girl Oola back in Jabba’s court. How she effortlessly took on the persona of the bounty hunter Boussh. Taking on her mannerisms, she got down on her knees. They probably didn’t know any Ubese. Instead, she said in full fluent Hapan, ”Please, I’ve been taken here against my will. Do you know a way off world?”

The two of them looked between each other. She knew it was a long shot doing that, she feared actually saying her name lest Durga find out or these louts decide to take her for their own purposes. Even then, her plan was a long shot. Customers like these in this crime palace had no code of morals beyond taking what they liked.

“She’s a noisy one isn’t she?”

“Yes, and her slave language is hurting my ears. I pray she doesn’t scream too much when we have our fun with her.”

Looking down at her with a cruel smile, she realized it didn’t matter if they knew or not. She would have to do what they wanted. There wasn’t a second she harbored any delusion that these men would come to her rescue. But she had hoped this encounter wouldn’t be so soon.

That didn’t make it any easier. She could see in their eyes the joy of their dominion over her. No matter who she said she was, her role hadn’t changed one bit. Standing up, she approached them. These tall and gaunt creatures’ dicks weren’t as round as all the men who came before them, but they were long.

These men wore leering grins on their strange heads. Knowing what was expected of her, she stood in between them, stroking them both. Having such long dicks, she had to stroke them that much more.

“Such soft hands. It’s almost like they’re naturally this baby soft!”

“Yeah I’ve visited this place plenty of times. Durga really outdid himself finding this girl.”

The Tusken slave’s chin was cupped and made to look at them. “Touch my balls. My balls,” he said, the second time louder, as if being loud would somehow make someone illiterate in Basic understand better. Grabbing her wrist, he moved her hand down there. “Do you understand me?”

”Fuck you,” she said in Hapan, nodding her head. ”Fuck you, you worthless piece of shit!” followed by a sudden, “Yes!” in Basic.

She moved her palm on his sack. That Muun growled contentedly. But while she continued playing with his balls, it wasn’t enough. He looked at her angrily like a child who needed his candy and said, “Touch all of me.” Snatching her wrist again, he moved her hand back up to his dick then right back down to his scrotum. He nodded his head at her like he was asking if she understood and she nodded right back. It was humiliating but she would endure it.

“Having fun?” said the other one to his buddy. He just nodded without looking back, a weaselly smile on his face.

He wasn’t content to be left out. Grabbing the back of her head he said, “I want to make this little one purr too.”