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TODAY'S FREE BONDAGE STORY |
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Jacen Solo and Lumiya stared at the camera feed for the interrogation room in the depths of GAG headquarters on the unnamed moon. Usually for this sort of procedure Jacen would have undertaken matters at the units main HQ on Coruscant or aboard their star-destroyer, the Anakin Solo, but he could not risk any but the most loyal personnel seeing the prisoner. Nor could he risk any force-sensitive individual, not even his apprentice Ben, being anywhere near where what was about to happen or where it had taken place.
The Sith woman looked at Jacen as he examined the screen. Under her secret tutelage the son of Han and Leia solo and former student of Luke Skywalker was now well on the path of the Sith, a path Lumiya had begun down herself decades earlier when she had been a spy for the Empire. Sent as a pilot to infiltrate the Rebellion and discredit Luke, she had been discovered and shot down by him, only to be rescued by Darth Vader. The cybernetic limbs he had endowed her with allowed her to continue walk, and the knowledge of the Sith had allowed her to bring Jacen to this point where he was ready to betray all he had ever held dear in the name of creating a better Galaxy.
‘She was gathering intelligence about my work with you,’ Lumiya said, indicating the prisoner on the screen. ‘No doubt to report back to you uncle.’
Jacen continued to stare at the screen. ‘The Falanassi illusion I’ve projected around this facility will prevent anyone from detecting her through the Force,’ Jacen assured Lumiya, referring to one of the many alternate Force disciplines he had become an adept in while taking a five year tour of the Galaxy after the end of the last great war. ‘And the methods I learned from Vergere will prevent her using the Force to help her.’
‘But unless I am mistaken, all that will require considerable effort for as long as she is here.’
Jacen nodded. ‘Nothing I can’t handle. When I am ready, I can blank her memory so she has no knowledge of anything that has happened.’
‘You’re sure you can do that, even to her?’
Jacen gave her a sidelong glance that was both reassuring and a tad reproachful.
Lumiya smiled, pleased and just a little awed by her companions’ abilities. Yes, she had chosen well on many levels. But then her face became more serious. ‘However, we need to know what she might already have found out and passed on to the Council. Can you maintain your cloaking of us and her separation from the Force, and invade her mind at the same time?’
Jacen pondered for a moment, then his face fell slightly. ‘Doubtful,’ he said finally.
Lumiya was careful how she phrased her next words. ‘Then we will need to get the information by another means.’ Jacen was silent for a long time. ‘Perhaps I should do this,’ the woman suggested after a moment.
Jacen shook his head. ‘You don’t need to test my resolve,’ he said without looking at her. ‘This is my responsibility. I’ll deal with it.’
Lumiya seemed satisfied, looking up the image of the captive woman. ‘She will not break easily, I fear.’
A flicker of remorse crossed the new head of the Galactic Alliances special police, then was gone. ‘I know,’ he said softly.
***
Mara Jade Skywalker, Jedi Master and wife of Luke Skywalker for over a decade, had spent many hours cultivating the patience that was needed to train as a Jedi, but being shackled and held captive by a traitor was proving taxing even for her.
The red haired woman railed at herself for letting her son Ben train as Jacen’s apprentice. She had not wanted to believe the signs that Jacen was turning to the dark side, and had not even been aware that the tip off she had received from an informant on Bothuwai of a secret detention centre on this asteroid would involve the young Solo and the Galactic Alliance Guard he commanded. It was a measure of how far Jacen had already fallen that the security had put in place around the base was specifically designed to detect and capture Jedi.
Currently Mara hung above the floor of a round room shaped for the most part like a sphere, but with a flat floor in which there was a single door. Light were spaced all around the roof about three feet from the apex and about the floor at slightly higher than ankle level, meaning that she was illuminated from both above and below. The shackles holding her with cumbersome affairs that fitted about her wrists and ankles and from which durasteel wires were stretched tight to the chamber walls, as well as thick power cables which were connected to sockets around the chamber.
Mara shifted in her restraints, her arms and legs pulled tight in four different directions with her body angled so that she hung at about 45 degrees to the floor, facing downwards, arms above her head. She was dressed in a figure hugging grey bodysuit, her weapons belt still around her waist but bereft of her lightsabre or any other equipment. Short gloves and high grey boots covered her hands and feet, while her a band pulled back her tumbling red hair to leave clear a face that was still strikingly beautiful after 50 years. Under the clinging suit her body was toned to athletic perfection by hours of exercises and regular field missions, while still pleasingly proportioned so as to make her image or various renderings of it one of the more heavily downloaded by cyber-norks on the Galactic info-net.
Right now she was grateful for the top physical condition she held herself in. Somehow, and Mara had no idea how, she had been disconnected from the Force. Where once she would have been intimately attuned to the eddies and ripples of the energy field generated by all living things, now she felt lost and naked, bereft of its comfort and security. In its place all she could feel it now a buzz at the back of her head, like a migraine that refused to be cured. All this meant that Mara was not able to use the Force to strengthen herself as she hung by her outstretched limbs. Two hours of painful suspension had left her damp with perspiration, but she endured the discomfort stolidly.
The door opened and Jacen Solo entered.
At once a piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Jacen had told how, when he had been captured and tortured by the sadistic alien species the Yuzhann Vong, they had used a Force sensitive called Vergere to somehow cut Jacen off from the Force, just as Mara was cut off now. Somehow Jacen must have learned the technique and was using it to deprive her of her Jedi abilities.
Considering the depth of betrayal she felt regarding her nephew, Mara was surprisingly even tempered. She had to stall for time until Luke could become concerned about her whereabouts and suspect that she was in trouble. ‘Jacen,’ she said quietly. ‘Would you let me down, please?’
Jacen heard the control in her voice but noted the slight flexing of her gloved fingers. Mara’s passions ran deep, he knew, but unlike himself she did not allow herself to fully exploit them. His embracing of the Sith pathway had opened many avenues to him that no Jedi could appreciate.
‘I’m afraid not, Aunt Mara,’ he said, his tone equally measured. ‘At least, not until I know why you’re here and what you think you’ve learned.’
Mara thought quickly. If Jacen did not know she had learned of his compliance with Lumiya then there was a chance she could talk her way out of immediate danger – long enough to get a signal to the Jedi Temple at least. ‘You have a secret base for detaining possible enemies of the alliance – presumably to conduct procedures that regular government and law enforcement would find…distasteful. Or at least potentially embarrassing.’ She paused. ‘Does the head of the Alliance know, or is this a case of plausible deniability?’
She shifted in her bindings. Jacen noted with a sudden flash of surprise how attractive her body looked, but he kept his face stony. She was good, his Aunt, but unlike her he had full control of the Force, and even with the illusion he was creating he had enough concentration left over to sense lies – or omissions.
Jacen touched a button on his belt and around the room, six long panels slid down. From the dark apertures revealed unfolded a half-dozen multi-jointed arms, like the appendages of some huge insect. Each one was long enough to reach into the centre of the room easily, and tipped with a variety of sinister looking instruments that ranged from electro-prods and medical nerve stimulator to small flame emitters and drills, and even down to simple hooks, blades and pincers. The arms moved slowly to hover around the prisoner, humming softly and giving her maximum time to absorb their appearance and what they boded.
Mara watched the display, professionally appreciating the psychological aspect of what Jacen was doing while shifting in her restraints as arms moved in around her. When they had finally stopped moving a metre of her she turned back to face her nephew. ‘Am I supposed to be intimidated Jacen?’ she asked, raising her eyebrows slightly.
‘You’re supposed to tell me everything you know, Mara,’ he replied. ‘When I hear the truth, this will stop.’
Mara noted that he had used her first name and left off the ‘aunt’. Was he doing it to make her feel less safe, or to distance himself from what he was about to do? ‘This, being you torturing me?’
‘Interrogating,’ Jacen corrected.
‘Using torture,’ she said, holding his eyes with hers.
‘That’s up to you Mara.’
Mara pressed her lips together. She did not know how far her nephew had been lost to dark side, or how far he was prepared to go with this. What she did know was there was no way she could let him know what she had found out. So she hung in silence, surrounded by the metal arms.
Jacen stared up at the woman before him and knew that she would never volunteer the information he needed willingly. Mere psychological pressure would not suffice to break the will of someone who had once been the Emperor’s personal assassin. It pained him that it had come to this, but the alien Yuzzhan Vong had tortured him for months until he had come to see pain as an ally, if not a friend. Indeed, the chamber and Mara’s place in it greatly resembled the device the Vong called ‘The Embrace of Pain’, which he had endured without respite until he had learned to accept constant agony as something to be used, not avoided. And his Sith studies had opened him to even more such philosophies. All life involved pain.
Mara would have to learn how much.
He activated switches on the wall using the Force, and two of the arms moved closer, hovering near the female prisoner. They were angled to present what looked like razor sharp shears towards their target. They hesitated a moment, then moved to touch the body hugging material of Mara’s jumpsuit. Then they started to cut.
Mara held her breath and stayed perfectly still, but inside she was boiling with outrage. The shears moved over her form, snipping and clipping at her outfit with precise movement, slicing away her suit a piece at a time. Soon her arms were bare, and they moved to her midriff, and over her back. Then her legs. Pieces of the suit fluttered to the ground like dying leatherwings back on Coruscant.
The clippers cut away the covering over her stomach and back, so that only the material over her lower body and pulled across her chest was in place. Jacen watched the whole thing impassively, eyes cold.
Finally the pincers moved up to what was left of her outfit above the waist. Mara looked at the shears as they paused again, but when she looked down at Jacen below her there was nothing but contempt and defiance in those large green eyes.
The shears moved in, one pulling the material out and the other cutting slowly. The only sound in the room was that of synthi-leather being shorn by metal. With precision accuracy the arms cut both the bodysuit and the undergarment beneath, and then the grey covering fell away to the floor.
Mara felt the cool air wash over her exposed breasts and for the first time she knew, truly knew, that Jacen was going to torture her.
Jacen stared up at his Uncle’s wife and felt the sensations washing over him. First shame, but that passed quickly, to be replaced by a feeling of power. He was entering forbidden territory, the sight of Mara’s full and cherry tipped breasts the sign that he had passed another boundary. He let his eyes take in the supple roundness of the two orbs, comparing them to those of his secret lover Tenal Ka. Tenal was Queen of a race ruled by women who prized physical beauty, herself stunning. Mara was older and less exotically compelling, but there was an animal attraction, a fierceness in her femininity. Her breasts sagged little, and would have shamed those of many far younger human women, while her body was lean and firm, a dancers frame or an athletes toned perfection. Her fair skin was shining faintly with perspiration as she hung before him, muscles in her arms and long legs visible under the strain of her position, stomach flat and smooth. The sight of her semi-naked, combined with the fire he saw in those green eyes, sent a jolt through him that seemed to begin between his legs and radiate through his body.
Jacen allowed himself to feel the strange warmth flooding him. Sith used their passions. He would not flee from this tingling across his skin.
‘Last chance, Mara,’ he said calmly. He could sense her fury building inside her, but unlike himself she tried to suppress it, not control and direct it. That was why she had already lost. ‘This won’t be pleasant.’
Mara balled her fists, tensing. ‘Kriff you, Jacen,’ she said with equal calm.
Something moved behind her and she twitched her head around. There was a faint whistle and then pain flared across her back. She stiffened, exhaling sharply as he pain blossomed between her shoulder blades and down, like someone had spilled hot water over her.
Jacen saw the metal whip that had uncoiled from one arm draw back again behind Mara, and the effect the blow had on her body. The tingle increased a notch. ‘You don’t have the Force to help you with this Mara. Spare yourself a lost battle and a lot of discomfort.’
Mara glared at him but said nothing.
The whip hit her back again, and Mara stifled a small sound of pain. Now two lines of fire were traced across her spine and shoulders. Then three. Then four.
With each whistle and snap fresh suffering blossomed across her body, her arms and legs tensing with each strike. Looking up Jacen could see the female Jedi’s lovely face pinch with each blow, her eyes fluttering and her jaw set firm. He did not bother with questions – not yet. The prisoner had to know that he was patient – that he could wait as long as it took until the answers came.
After twenty strokes of the metal whip Mara could no longer fully suppress the shifting of her lithe form. Her back blazed with pain, like someone had tipped a nest of piranha beetles onto her and the vile bugs were eating away at her skin. Each time the metal coil touched her she shivered, trembling as the pain started to seep down through her. Her hair was damp with sweat and the burning across her back was matched by a shuddering chill across her belly and chest as drops of perspiration glistened on her. She felt some of the moisture running down her face and blinked them away, concentrating on fighting the pain of the whip with her Jedi honed mental disciplines. Even without the Force to help her she still possessed her native strength of will and a lifetime of experience in interrogation procedures. If Jacen thought this was enough to break her, he was going to be disappointed.
The whipping went on for fifty strokes. By the end the women in the shackles was hanging with her head drooping, her breasts quivering with pain and the cold of her own sweat as it dripped from her suspended body.
Without bothering to ask any question, Jacen thumbed his belt control again. Two of the arms in front also let whips uncoil, slightly shorter than the one behind but no less sinister. Mara turned her head to look at them, wetting her red lips but still saying nothing.
The arm at the rear began again, this time sending its pain inducing length snaking about her right leg between the knee and waist, and then repeating with the left. These were more sensitive areas as the pain was sharper and clearer than that on her back. She winced, shaking. At the same time the whips in front began to lash her, alternating between the space on her toned arms between her elbow and shoulders and the front of her shapely. Everywhere they touched her the metal lines marked her skin with fierce red welts.
The flogging when on methodically, the programs guiding the strokes of the whips monitoring the physical and neurological responses of the prisoner so as to target their whips for maximum efficiency; which was to say, maximum pain to the victim within the parameters set. So far Jacen restrained the arms from using enough force to do more that break the outmost layer of skin and cause superficial bleeding. Already light scratches crisscrossed Mara’s back arms and legs, the blood smearing against her damp skin as the whips hit her again and again. He could see her lovely green eyes narrowed as she continued to resist the pain, and the tension in her limbs. More and more, too, he found his eyes drawn to his captives lovely breasts, the way they jiggled gently as she suffered under the trio of lashes. As the sound of the whips striking against Mara’s body continued he found himself wondering how those orbs would feel in his hands.
After ten minutes the whips paused in their work, the arms pulling back but the wire strands still hanging at the ready, red tinged moisture along their silver lengths.
Mara’s body stung like the jabs of a thousand Yavin burn-wasps. With the constant blossoms of pain from the whips stilled, she now endured the continuous burning of her salt laden perspiration seeping across the scores of shallow cuts across her skin. She kept her breathing regular, using every technique she knew of that did not require the Force to keep the pain at bay while she tried to relax her body and give it time to heal. Knowing that getting Jacen to talk would buy her more time, she shifted her eyes to look at him, fixing him with a baleful glare. ‘It’s…not too late to stop this Jacen…’ Mara bit out. The pain made her tone sound clipped, but she kept her voice steady, injecting a mixture of both disapproval and concern.
Jacen smiled inwardly at recognition of his Aunt’s, no his prisoners attempt to sway his resolve. ‘The Vong taught me a great deal about the uses of pain, Mara,’ he said, stepping closer so he had to look up sharply at her. ‘The anguish you feel here is to help you understand that you need to tell me the truth. I’m going to leave you for a while so it can have some time teach you its lessons. When I come back, we’ll talk again.’
He touched his belt and the shackles drew further apart, moving towards their respective parts of the curved walls and dragging Mara’s arms and legs along with them. The pull increased slowly but inexorably, pulling Mara’s limbls tighter and tighter until she felt the tension as a constant knowing ache in the muscles of her four limbs, which spread gradually to the joints of her hips and shoulders. She tried to resist with her native strength but soon realised it was futile and tried to relax, allowing her body to be pulled more and more apart. It was not long, however, before not amount of muscular control could stop her feeling the pain as a continuous throbbing pulse, arcing along her nerve endings in an unending loop of suffering. And still the stretching went on.
Jacen could see the woman above him gritting her teeth behind red lips that were growing thin and pale as her grimace grew more fierce. Her shoulders would be a mass of daggers piercing her flesh and her lateral muscles down the side of her body would be tearing slowly as her arms were pulled out of their sockets millimetre by millimetre. The tension in her thighs made her muscles in her legs stand out against the red welted skin, and her ribs were clear outlined beneath her full breasts as those orbs were pulled up and apart, highlighting thief fullness.
Jacen flicked the button on his belt and the stretching stopped. Mara’s legs and arms were now pulled almost 15% further than they could stretch comfortably and the woman could not keep the pain from her face as he stared up at her. Jacen thought he had never seen Mara looking more beautiful hanging there, suffering helplessly but courageously. A tiny part of him found himself glad that this would not be over quickly.
‘Let the pain teach you, Mara,’ Jacen said. ‘I’ll be back…eventually.’
He turned to go, and heard Mara draw a rasping breath. ‘Take…your time,’ she gasped defiantly.
Jacen paused heading for the door, then glanced back. His right hand flicked down, and there was the galaxy-know snap hiss of a lightsabre activating.
The GAG commander seemed barely to move, but the humming energy blade he held cut through the remaining piece of Mara’s jumpsuit covering her lower abdomen, leaving the skin beneath untouched. The remains of her garments fell away, leaving her fully naked except for her boots and gloves. Mara grunted as the material floated to the floor, and Jacen allowed himself a lingering look at the trimmed copper strip of hair revealed, set above a soft pink crease between her legs that pouted with the stretching of the prisoners magnificent body. She looked across at him with her eyes full of green fire, but he simply gave a polite nod back, then left the room.
The door whirred closed behind him, leaving the only sounds in the chamber the ragged breathing of the suffering Jedi woman. |
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