A Standup Philosopher
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Crown of Slaves Chapter Three
🕑 Added 2025-03-17 18:22:56 +0000 UTC###################################################
Crown of Slaves
Chapter Three
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Nearly a month had passed since I had been made a member of Asmu-Nikal’s personal staff, and I had discovered quite a few things that had not been readily apparent out on the grounds.
This world was not entirely like the one shown in the game, though in hindsight that should have been obvious. The games, movies, and books have of course been required to adhere to certain ratings and guidelines to make them appropriate for public consumption, limiting the inevitabilities of life to vague references and subtle innuendos, but now that it was ‘real’, I was seeing them all first-hand.
For one thing, the house slaves fucked a lot. They fucked each other, got fucked by the guards, got fucked by the free members of the staff, and occasionally even got fucked by our masters themselves. The Sith Empire, outside of the restrictions of the world I had come from, was a truly hedonistic thing. People pursued pleasure however and whenever they saw fit, with whomever or whatever they saw fit. As long as duties could be carried out, no one gave a single, solitary damn what we did with ourselves or each other.
I had gotten that impression during my first night living in the barracks, but after three and a half weeks first impressions had become solidly-displayed facts. People lived life to the fullest that they could, with something akin to unrestrained glee. Many of the slaves leveraged this to their advantage, earning the favor of one person or another in order to improve their lot in life, even if only slightly.
Tudalhiya, the eldest son, was the most prolific target of such efforts. He was libidinous in the extreme, fucking his way through men and women alike with a rapacious hunger that would have been impressive if he were not so cruel to those he used, leaving them bloody and bruised despite their best efforts to earn his favor and gentler treatment, if he didn’t kill them outright. I was fortunate in the extreme that he had never had any interest in me, even before his sister had called him out on it, because (as he had said to her then) while he was perfectly willing to rape and kill men and women alike, someone who was both was apparently a step too far.
Such monstrous behavior aside, his hedonism, this pervasive culture of sex, drugs, and countless other kinds of indulgence (to whatever degree was possible given one’s rank in life) was enthralling to me. So different from the one I had come from, so much more in line with my own kinks and fetishes (minus, of course, things like wide-spread rape, or pedophilia being legal as long as it was a slave, and other such things that were thoroughly appalling no matter the universe), and all that in addition to the fact that I was my favorite character from SWTOR.
Oh yes, I was quite convinced by now that I was the Sith Inquisitor. Ignoring the fact that I looked like my character, had the very backstory I had crafted for her, and could wield the Force, there was the matter that I had heard Lord Luwian ranting more than once about ‘that upstart blonde cunt’ pushing for Force Sensitive slaves to be sent to Korriban for evaluation. Two years or so sounded about right for that particular argument to work its way through the Sith hierarchy, especially as the casualty counts continued to roll in. The Empire would be desperate, absolutely desperate, for Force users to engage the vengeful Jedi Order soon enough.
Perhaps some of it was wishful thinking, but all of that combined with the timing…no, I was sure that I was my character. Of course, as reassuring as that was, I wasn’t going to rest on my laurels either. I wasn’t stupid or delusional enough to believe that simply being the Sith Inquisitor character meant that I was guaranteed to live long enough to head to Korriban, nor that I would waltz through the trials with one hand tied behind my back.
This was real life now, my life, not a fun game. There were no respawns, there was no over-levelling, there was no exp boosts or Cartel Market to provide armor and weapons early. There were no game mechanics making things easier, or more streamlined, or simpler to understand to minimize hassle and maximize enjoyment. There was just me and my brain, which is why I had started writing a ciphered journal recording everything that I could think of that would either endanger me, or I wanted to change, or that might prove useful for bargaining or earning connections.
At any rate, this new existence of mine was certainly shaping up to be a very interesting one, not least of which because of what was currently happening. Yet another slave orgy was in full swing, naked, sweaty bodies writhing and twisting and moving, the air filled with a symphony of sin. Moans, groans, cries of bliss and pain, the slapping of damp flesh against damp flesh. The scent of sex and desire filled my head, its cloying scent overpowering even the mingled haze born from the clouds of spice and t’bac smoke that snaked up and away from several of the beds.
I had never indulged, myself, in any of the festivities. Too anxious about my appearance and my extra organ to risk rejection, too afraid of ostracization to reach out to those around me.
Every night before tonight, if she wasn’t with Asmu-Nikal, Kela had shown up at the end of my little cot, naked, dripping with sweat and cum, trying to tempt me into joining the fun with her body and her filthy mouth, from which flowed promises of pleasure and a great deal of praise for my physical form. Praise that, thanks to my metaphysical senses, I knew to be entirely legitimate. It was all quite flattering, and (when combined with everything else) made restraining myself very hard indeed. When I refused, she had always returned to the debauchery, indulging herself for hours before crawling into the cot adjacent to my own.
Now, she was straddling in my lap, naked as the day she was born, one arm around my neck as she cupped and squeezed my shaft through my thin pants with the other, her face buried in my throat, lips and teeth gently working the skin over my pulse.
“Mmh, Vestara, are you finally going to play with me? I’ve been trying to tempt you for ages, but you just won’t play along.” She murmured between nips, an audible pout in her voice, and I shuddered as she gave me a particularly good squeeze paired with a short lick.
“Kela…” I half-sighed, half-moaned, trying to keep myself under control. “Kela, you know what Luwian did to me…”
“Oh, I do, I do, and I can’t wait to see it up~close~and~personal!” she purred in acknowledgment, wiggling around in a way that snapped a couple of the few remaining threads in the string (I couldn’t even call it a rope anymore) that made up my self-control. Still, I continued to resist my urges. I had no interest in having it look like I, Luwian’s pet experiment, was taking advantage of or abusing my fellow slaves. Then, Kela said something that shook my determination to the core. “Even limp, you’ve got the biggest cock I’ve ever seen, I could lose myself in those eyes, and those tattoos are simply entrancing~!”
“You don’t…I mean, you all won’t…?” I asked, stumbling over my words, tone taking on a plaintive note, and she snorted in a rather unladylike fashion, pulling away from my throat to look me in the eyes as her free hand started working on the waistband of my pants, loosening it and pulling them down enough to free my shaft.
“Don’t worry so much, Ves. No one here has a problem with you or what Luwian left you with. In fact, most of us would bend over for you in a heartbeat if you would woman up and make a play. We all know you’re as much a victim of his as the rest of us.” She assured me, rubbing the flared head of my cock against her soaked folds before lining herself and sinking onto me without hesitation.
We moaned together, low and loud, and the audience I hadn’t really realized was there murmured their approval amidst giggles and laughter as Kela clutched my shoulders and froze, head thrown back and chest heaving with half my cock still stuck outside of her body.
“A little too much for you there, Kela?” I couldn’t resist teasing, to the renewed amusement of those around us, feeling a swell of primal pride as she huffed out a laugh and nodded a bit sharply.
“You’re…you’re even bigger than I thought you were, and I saw you when Mistress took a look at you. Force, I’ve never had something as big as you inside me. I need to take this slow.” She admitted, much to my surprise. I had actually expected her to boast about how fine she was and push on, given both the amount of experience she had and her generally lustful nature. She set to work, slowly working herself up and down my length, taking me a bit deeper every time, until our hips had finally met and I was buried inside her as deeply as I could be from this angle. “Gods, you’re fucking deep. I swear you’re hitting my womb.”
“You know just what to say.” I responded huskily, rolling my hips experimentally, my previous hesitation and embarrassment gone in the light of both the pleasure of having Kela’s tight, wet heat wrapped around me, and the approval, lust, and amusement I could feel radiating throughout the room. She gave a gasp and then a low chuckle of approval, shifting her weight and coaxing me to reverse our positions. That was something of a surprise, Kela typically (so far as I had seen) preferred to be on top here in the barracks. Not the most surprising thing, desiring to be in control in the most intimate of things when all the rest of her life (including whether she would still be alive at the end of the day) was so utterly out of her control. Still, if that’s the position she wanted to be in, quite literally, I certainly wasn’t going to object.
The new position had me sinking another inch or so deeper, and Kela wrapped her legs around my waist with a cry of encouragement as I started to thrust into her. The feeling was incredible, my cock far more sensitive that the one I had had back ‘home’, and I hadn’t done anything remotely sexual since I had arrived here, first out of inability (free time and energy to rub one out hadn’t been in great supply out on the grounds), then out of shame and worry about how those around me would react. Sure, they might have seemed aroused or interested that first night, when I changed, but how could I trust that such an opinion would last?
I shook my head slightly, banishing those thoughts from my mind as I continued to fuck the girl underneath me, our swinging breasts brushing against one another, the scraping sensations to my nipples sending jolts of electricity skittering through my veins. From the aura bleeding out of my partner, I could tell that she was having just as much fun as I was, nerves lightning up and firing off as she gasped and moaned in delight, her joy and arousal bleeding into the Force, turning the world around us into a vibrant, gleaming place. A maelstrom of primal pleasure, with the two of us at the heart of the vortex.
“Gods, yes! Fuck me, Khai! Nail me to this fucking bed and leave an imprint of your fucking cock in my cunt!” she cried out, squealing in delight as I twisted one of her nipples sharply, before moaning into my mouth as I leaned down to claim her mouth with my own. I could taste the remnants of spice on her lips, the faint, almost sickly-sweet tang to her tongue. Carsunum, most likely, her preferred strain. Asmu-Nikal, I had learned, preferred ryll, while I generally avoided the damn stuff as much as possible. I had goals, and I had none of the Force purification training or anti-narcotics required to fend off the worst of the side effects like she did. Thank the Force that no one had invented glitteryll yet, even someone like Asmu-Nikal would be consumed by that stuff.
Not to say I didn’t use intoxicants on occasion, but I went for milder substances. The ones that were more akin to marijuana, if by comparison spice was cocaine or heroin.
“Who could think a Sith’s favorite pet could be this fucking tight?” I growled in response, some genuine surprise in my voice. There wasn’t a day where Kela wasn’t getting fucked by someone, but she was still almost uncomfortably tight around me. “It’s like fucking a vice!”
“Mistress taught me well.” She purred in response, her cunt rippling around me. “Mmh, all those exercises she had me do, all the special diets, all the practice, before and during her time on Korriban…and now you’re getting to enjoy the results.”
She paused to muffle a scream of pleasure by latching her teeth onto my shoulder as she rippled again, this time spraying sweet-smelling fluid across my crotch and lower stomach. Her first orgasm with me, then, and hopefully with many more to follow it. She shuddered, tightening and loosening around me, whimpering as I continued to fuck her steadily all the way through the aftershocks, steadily building us both towards more pleasure.
“Oh, Mistress taught me well, but even without her preparing me, I would have been tight for you. This cock of yours isn’t natural, Ves, and I couldn’t be happier about it. So thick, so long, so hard and hot inside me~!” she finally pulled herself together enough to continue, starting to buck up against me again, quite literally meeting me in the middle, to both of our enjoyment. The sound of our hips slapping against one another, the faint squishing as I plunged into her depths and withdrew, our mingled cries and moans and gasps. The scent of our sweat and cum, the meshing of our presences in the Force, the feeling of the pleasure all around us…it was no wonder that Sith culture was so hedonistic, when they could sense one another’s pleasure, feed it and feed off of it, like a metaphysical feedback loop.
Really quite succubustic, actually. I would have to think about that sometime in the future.
I wasn’t going to last long, I knew, not with all the circumstances taken in. There were too many points of stimulation, too many sensations both old and new, and it had been too long since I had last been with someone like this besides.
I intensified my efforts, thrusting harder and deeper, as hard and as deep as I could, shaking the cot beneath us as I tried my utmost to fuck her into a stupor, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she tried to breathe through the rough treatment, before making an enthralling keening sound in the back of her throat as her orgasm washed over her once more. Gritting my teeth, I pulled out as my own orgasm began, spraying cum across her skin.
I’d never cum that hard, like a character from some porn story, jets of hot, milky seed pouring out of me again and again and again, until she looked like the star of a bukkake film. The white fluid coated her skin, dripping from her face and breasts, some of it lingering even in her hair. I could feel the shock from around us, yes, and the arousal as well, as the observers saw what happened. Kela, for her part, stared down at herself for a moment before glancing at my softening shaft and giggling in a distinctly wicked way.
“Mmh, that hit the spot. Good thing you didn’t cum inside me. With this much cum, stuffed right into my womb? I would have gotten pregnant for sure.” She mused, sitting up and rubbing the cum on her breasts around like it was a moisturizer, before licking her lips thoughtfully. I could see her stained eyebrows raise, feel her spike of delight and desire as the taste settled on her tongue, and she popped to her feet. “Come on, Khai. We’re headed for the sanisteam. I’m going to need your help getting all of your cum off of me, or I’ll be filthy in the morning~!”
I, and most of the room’s other inhabitants, watched as she set off, weaving her way across the room, dripping cum all the way. I was numb with pleasure, mind fogged from bliss, so much so that it took me a moment to realize what she had just said, and I shot to my feet and hurried after her. Whether that was an invitation for shower sex or not, I wasn’t sure, but far be it for me to ignore the helpless maiden begging for my assistance.
It was not, as it turned out, an invitation for shower sex, as that would take longer than slaves were permitted to be in the sanisteam. It was, however, an invitation for a shower blowjob. I just hoped that Asmu-Nikal didn’t find out about this before I could figure out if she would kill me for fucking her personal plaything.
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“Mistress, Vestara finally fucked me last night!” Kela chirped the instant Asmu-Nikal was awake enough to understand what she was saying, much to my profound horror and embarrassment, though horror was edged out by bafflement when Asmu-Nikal gave her an amused look as she rose (entirely nude) from her spacious bed and moved towards her designated dressing space, even as I automatically went about gathering her first outfit for the day.
“Oh, did she? That must have been quite enjoyable, given her girth. Are you sore, Kela?” she asked, and Kela nodded vigorously.
“Oh, yes, Mistress, very sore! I’m pretty sure I have a bruise on my cervix from how hard and deep she was fucking me, and I had to take two sanisteams to get all of her come off of my skin and out of my hair!” she confirmed as we robed the Pureblood, sounding inordinately pleased, and Asmu-Nikal hummed and looked at my crotch in appraisal. Under her regard, my shaft began to harden, and she gave me a pleased smirk as I resisted the urge to keep it down as I had before. She had made it quite clear that I would be punished if I did.
“Fascinating. No testicles, but to produce so much sperm…you grow more intriguing every day, Vestara. We will discuss this more when I return from breakfast.” She mused thoughtfully, turning away with a swirl of her silken robe, padding out of the room with a hypnotizing sway to her hips.
She wasn’t gone long, in fact she was gone so briefly (compared to most previous mornings, that is) that her departure from the meal probably bordered on insolent. It was hardly an hour before she was sweeping back through the door, though to my concern I noted that she was scowling darkly rather than wearing her customary, confident and lazy smirk.
“My father has ‘suggested’ that I go and visit Darth Acharon. Evidently, he wishes to organize an exchange of knowledge between my master and himself now that my apprenticeship is confirmed. The two of you are to remain here until I return. Amuse yourselves as you see fit, provided it does not include revisiting your activities from last night. If you’re going to fuck in my suite, you shall damn well be doing it for my pleasure, not only your own.” She barked, irritated enough that she redressed herself in her lightly armored apprentice robes without our assistance, before storming from the room.
Kela and I stared after her for a full minute, concern radiating from the both of us, before my lover(?) sighed and, after gesturing for me to follow, headed for one of the side-doors. Opening it, she stepped inside, and my breath caught in my chest as I followed. It was a library, a beautiful one, with tall, carved wooden shelves, a stone fireplace, and lavish seating arrangements. There was even a couch in the Roman style, a klinai, directly across from the fireplace. I took a closer look at the tome-filled shelves and gasped aloud at what I saw, almost unable to believe my eyes. Many of the tomes were actual tomes. Physical texts, with pages, something I hadn’t imagined would be particularly common in this universe. Not with datapads and dataslates and other such hand-held computers.
“This is Mistress’ favorite room. Her personal library, with her personal research and study into the mysteries of the force. All those handwritten texts are her private files, the studies and contemplations that she doesn’t want to risk being shared publicly.” Kela told me, and I nodded in understanding. Datapads and dataslates could be remotely accessed and wiped, even with modern cybersecurity, but a handwritten, pen and paper book had to be physically accessed to damage it or steal the knowledge it contained. “The other texts, the dataslates and such, are more…public files. We will wait in here until she returns. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve spent a day simply sitting in this room.”
“A woman who favours knowledge over pure power. Unusual amongst the Sith, I imagine.” I mused thoughtfully, walking over to the shelves and running my fingers along some of the spines as Kela settled herself comfortably into a chair. It was one thing for a Sith to belong to the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge, and another entirely to actually gather or create knowledge without the intention of using it to empower themselves. That Asmu-Nikal favored knowledge for its own sake, as indicated by the library being her favorite room, and not a laboratory or a training field or a sex dungeon, was as intriguing as it was surprising. Why would someone, raised amongst this House, with her father and siblings being the way that they were, be like this? Could it simply be a matter of being a black sheep, as the saying went? Was she simply biding her time, waiting for the right moment to make her move, whatever that move happened to be?
I had no idea, but I was really rather curious to find out, despite the fact that it could very well be dangerous for me to be at ground zero for…whatever may or may not actually happen, when it did or didn’t happen. An idea occurred to me, and I made my way to the klinai, laying down and regarded Kela, even as she raised her eyebrows and gave me a mildly censorious look. Probably because I was using Nicky’s chair, but I didn’t care. She was half-way across the region, dealing with the knowledge that she had been chosen by her master so that he could get stuff from her father.
“So, how did you end up here, Kela? How did you end up working for House Luwian, and how have you grown so close to Asmu-Nikal?” I asked casually, and the other human blinked at me for a moment, surprised by the apparent non-sequitor, before visibly shrugging her confusion away.
“My parents were part of a slave rebellion when I was just a baby. Lady Nikal-Mati was one of the Sith that helped put the rebellion down, back before she retired to run House Luwian. She found me and decided to bring me here, to raise alongside her own daughter. The perfect, eternal companion for Asmu-Nikal.” She explained, and I had to admire the simple cleverness. Not only was she showing some mercy, which was a nice enough thing as it was, but she was ensuring that her daughter would have a loyal, dedicated companion that would never leave her side willingly. Smiling softly, she continued. “As strange as it might sound to you, I love Mistress with all my heart. We have spent almost every day of our lives together for the last twenty years. I have never had a more loyal friend, a fiercer protector, or a better lover. Whether she is being tender and gentle or using me for all I am worth, she never leaves me unsatisfied and never pushes me too far.”
I raised my eyebrow, somewhat surprised by the genuine, heartfelt praise that flowed so freely from my fellow slave, and I mentally adjusted a few plans in light of her newly-revealed openings. Turning Kela against Asmu-Nikal would clearly be impossible, but fortunately I had no intention of harming Asmu-Nikal in anyway. Quite the opposite in fact, which meant that entrenching myself in Kela’s good graces could lead to Asmu-Nikal presenting me with her own openings.
I smirked slightly at my accidental double entendre, cock stiffening a bit more, and Kela flushed slightly and looked away.
“Keep yourself under control, Khai. Mistress said you weren’t allowed to fuck me right now.” She tried to chastise me, though the breathy tone of her voice and the glances she snuck towards my crotch rather undermined her efforts.
“Mhm, a pity. I’ve always wanted to fuck someone in a library. Of course, a huge amount of the thrill is lost when there isn’t anyone around to catch us being naughty and defiling such a solemn place. But, you’re right, I suppose. I should hate to get you into trouble with Nicky.” I responded, eyes blatantly tracing her form with approval, before I lifted a hand and focused, slowly and carefully floating one of the hard-copy documents over to myself. Flipping it open, and ignoring the nervous disapproval that Kela seemed to radiate at my behavior and my nickname for the Sith woman who owned us both, I began to read.
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