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A Fall From Above	By : Poem Category: +G through L > Knights of the Old Republic Views: 25239 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic, or any of it's characters. I make no money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
Warning, this one is DARK. There will be a brief synopsis in another chapter covering the basics of what happened here, so you can safely skip it if you need to.
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Bastilla lay shaking against the rough wood, her ass stinging in the cool air of the room. Voices spoke all around her, none of them quite clear enough in her foggy mind to make any sense. There was laughter, joking and braying that sounded more like the cries of animals to her in her exhausted state than people. But maybe that was appropriate.
She had come to accept Mato's appetites the last few days since he had joined Brejik's line of upper "management." Nothing could quite come to par with Brejik's creativity and utter humiliating control. Compared to him, Mato's violence was almost a welcome reprieve. But taking him with two of his goons had been more than she was capable of handling today, after fronting her master's desires all morning. Strict rules had been laid out not to fuck her today, for which she was grateful for, but they had still taken a toll on her, spanking her mercilessly while filling her throat, not giving her a chance to breathe.
She was grateful for the sturdiness of the bench then. Her legs didn't have the strength to hold her up, every muscle felt like it was twitching with exertion, and there was no sign of relief in sight. The next few hours had been set aside for cronies to have their chance to play, and despite the bar on fucking her, she knew quite a few would have shown up. Mato and his men had only been the first in a long line of suffering today.
The sound of the door opening once more brought her out of her stupor, just enough to cringe, wondering who the next would be. Not all of the men were violent, some of them were even almost sweet, but it was always hard to get through them. They all treated her like a pet at the best of times, a piece of meat at the worst, and it was physically and emotionally exhausting to work her way through their varying tastes.
"Kassarra'sienn gida."
The now familiar words hit Bastilla like a warm touch. She could feel her body start to relax ever so slightly as her eyes lifted to find the form of the mauve Twi'lek, casually removing his thick leather gloves in a tired gesture.
Hex Jela'kei was not a friend, per se. He was certainly said to belong in this brutal group, having garnered a reputation for brutal murders in battle and harsh reprimands for those under him. But it wasn't his character that she felt herself relaxing her sore muscles for. It was the pattern they had fallen into over the last few visits.
Hex had been in the initial groups Brejik had brought in to fuck her when he was first breaking her. She only remembered it vaguely now, but she remembered his rough violet hands, lacking the luster of the youthful Twi'leks that made up the majority of his group, holding her up, and his bare, thick chest under her as they took her in teams.
But when he came to her on his own, he never fucked her. Only followed the same pattern. He greeted her in the same rough voice. He laid her on the couch. And he sat beside her and went to sharpening his blades.
The same pattern every time. He never touched her after they were on the couch and he never spoke in anything other than Rylothean. Not that he spoke much to begin with. There was a tiredness to him that told Bastilla he might simply not have the energy to summon words. It never changed. And it added a bit of stability to the insanity that was Brejik's world.
The feeling of blood rushing back to her hands when he released her from her bonds was the sweetest kind of pain. She relished it, flexing her fingers greedily as she allowed him to move her to the worn sofa, laying her roughly down before drawing a blade from his hip and setting to it with a wetstone.
"Thank you," she murmured in a hoarse whisper, and waited for the usual "Koahiko". He never looked up from his blade when he spoke, watching the stone rasp across the blade with almost rapt attention. The sound was swiftly becoming a lullaby for her, a familiar sound that meant it was safe to sleep. She could already feel her worn mind falling into place, her eyes closing, her breathing evening out. He would be allowed an hour as one of the more senior members, and that meant an hour where she needn't concern herself with anything outside of her own head. It was such a delicious thought.
But before she had even left the waking world, the sound of the door opening brought her back up, her tired eyes searching for the interrupting party.
The sight of Brejik's twisted smile took the breath from her.
"Hello, my slave-love," he crooned as he prowled into the room, the door shutting behind him. His eyes had that bright look to them, the one that said he had a new toy to play with, and Bastilla could feel her gut coiling in anticipation, both fear and pleasure wriggling together in one terrible mass. She had been seeing less and less of her master as of later, usually only once in a day, if that. The sight of him after she had been sure of a remaining day free of him was almost more than she could handle.
Hex didn't move from his seat at the appearance of his boss. His dark eyes rose to meet his gaze, and he followed his every movement as he approached, but the Twi'lek never stopped in his rasping ministrations, continuing to hone the small blade to a deadly point. Brejik seemed not to have noticed he was in the room at all. His eyes never strayed from his slave, like prey he was hunting. Bastilla could feel the knot in her stomach gnawing tighter.
The dark man stopped a step away from the pair, standing before the Jedi in a casual way, looking down at her with a content smile.
"Enjoying your afternoon?" he asked coyly, his lips pulling back in a twisted smile. She resisted the urge to shudder. Even now, there was still that little piece of her that was determined not the give in, not to let him win. He had taken every major victory he had attempted of her, but she could still deny him the small ones, and he didn't need to be reminded how much he scared her.
She resisted the urge to sidle closer to Hex as her master knelt down before her, reaching forward to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. The manager still had not moved, but his hands had stayed their work as he looked on at the pair. The young woman felt almost embarrassed to have him here now with Brejik in the room, though she wasn't sure why. Her eyes flickered to his still form, trying to gage his reaction in the split second she gave herself before looking back to her tormentor.
The smile that had crept up his face momentarily wiped away any good feelings that may have been lingering in her.
"Oh, of course you are," he crooned, his white teeth flashing in a bright smile as he stood and slapped Hex on the back in a strangely good natured gesture. "With such good company! How could you not be?"
Brejik finally turned his full attention to the Twi'lek, the friendly smile still lit on his face.
"How long do you have still, Hex?" he asked in a hearty voice, the kind you might offer to buy someone a drink with.
"I've just started," the mauve man replied, his accent laid thick across the words like a wet blanket. It was the first time Bastilla had ever heard him speak Basic. But then, she doubted Brejik was the time of man to tolerate having to learn another language just to speak to his subordinates.
"Ah! All the time in the world then," the dark man replied, turning to wink at Bastilla. "Let's not put it to waste, huh?"
Brejik stepped back to stand in front of his prisoner once more, reaching forward to brush his palm across her face and over her lips.
"Have you tried her mouth recently? She's really gotten quite good."
Hex didn't move, his stony eyes staring up at the other man, his expression unreadable. Bastilla's heart was racing in her throat as she watched the hand Brejik was carving across her face, her eyes flickering to look to Hex. What was he going to do? Was Hex in trouble? Or was she? Or was Brejik just playing with them. She'd seen how he dealt with most of his managers, a kind of cruel but jovial manner, and she'd never seen him lay a hand on one. But she wasn't sure if that extended to whatever crime he may imagine to have been committed here.
Bastilla couldn't catch the cry before it escaped her lips when her master grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her from the sofa. The gesture had been cruel and not angry, but it still terrified her to be on the floor between these two. But Brejik only guided her patiently to the floor at Hex's feet, his hand in her hair firm but gentle, and once she was in place, he released her, petting her absentmindedly as he spoke to Hex once more.
"You really should try it," Brejik told him evenly, a little of the good naturedness seeping from his tone. "You wouldn't be using the time I allotted you well otherwise.
The silence that came after was painful. Like knives at her throat, she could feel the tension in the air as the two men stared each other down, neither flinching from the other's harsh gaze. Hex's eyes were steely, his face unreadable as he locked gazes with Brejik, who only smiled a small smile in response, waiting. It seemed to stretch on for forever, neither willing to move in some unseen battle of the wills that Bastilla felt wholly left out of. There was some kind of communication going beyond what she could see, and the inhibiting collar at her throat did nothing to improve her power of reasoning as she struggled to understand the battle before her.
It was Brejik who moved first, though his eyes never left his opponent's. The dark man lowered himself slowly to Bastilla's level, bringing his lips to her ear and making her stomach churn. When he spoke, the words were just loud enough for Hex to hear clearly.
"Slave," he whispered, the word dripping off of his tongue like honey. "Why don't you show Hex here all the wicked things you've learned."
She hesitated then. She shouldn't have, she knew. If she had done it as defiance, that would have been one thing. But it wasn't that that gave her pause. Her eyes flashed up to find Hex looking down at her, his eyebrows drawn together in the smallest gesture of concern. And her heart ached as she realized he might be worried about her. And that she didn't think of him the same way as the other's. He may be an awful person, but she had never been exposed to that. He was only the man that meant a respite, and that had brought him above the other managers to a stage of almost protector. He watched over her as she slept. And even if it meant nothing to him, it meant something to her. She couldn't remove that image of him as an almost fatherly figure from her mind, and the idea of wrapping her lips around-
The strike across her ass seared like none of the previous had. Brejik knew how to inflict pain, and the harsh slap that brought a scream to her lips was not the height of his strength, she knew. The already raw flesh stung sharp enough to bring tears to her eyes as her master grabbed another fistful of her hair and shoved her face into Hex's groin.
"I said . . . show him."
Brejik didn't remove the hand in her hair, holding her there as she inhaled the Twi'lek's scent through his rough trousers. Her position was vulnerable, one hand on the floor, one on his knee, and her ass pushed back against Brejik as he held her. Her slave training had taught her to be prepared for her master whenever he wanted her, and even now, just the way he towered over her had the first sparks of lust building inside her, despite the terror in her throat.
When she brought the hand from Hex's knee trailing up the inside of his thigh, the dark man's grip on her loosened somewhat.
"Good girl," he crooned to her softly, as she struggled with the fastening on the man's belt. Her hands were shaking, and when she moved to sit up on her knees so that she could use both of them, Brejik, yanked her back down, pressing her firmly into his groin and holding her there. A small sound of pain grew in her throat, but she fought it back down as she leaned forward to use her teeth, yanking at the material in frustration. Humiliation was her master's favorite game, and she could feel the laughing smile he had plastered on his face. She knew he was enjoying this.
The hand at her face made her flinch, and she fought with herself not to pull away. It would only delight him more. But when she saw the hand, it was a dusty purple rather than rich chocolate, and she looked up to find Hex reaching around her to unfasten the belt himself. In two quick motions, he had freed himself of the fastenings, giving her the access she needed.
Bastilla's eyes peeked to his and she was met with another unreadable expression, though she thought she saw a flicker of anger hidden in their depths before Brejik's hand forced her eyes down again.
"Focus on his cock, sweetheart," he sneered at her. "That's what I trained you for."
Shame burned in the Jedi's cheeks as she tried to ignore the eyes on her - Brejik's cruel and delighted, Hex's dark and unreadable, and both looking at her as she slipped slim fingers into the Twi'leks pants to release his cock from it's prison.
It was already hardening in her hand, and when she leaned forward to drag her tongue along the underside, from base to tip, she was rewarded with a low sound, quickly silenced but there none the less, in the older man's throat.
She was surprised at the reaction her body had to that. Sex had always been a tortuous, awful thing, with her as the play toy at the mercy of other's. But this was different. Hex made no attempt to dominate her, or to treat her as a pet. He didn't want her in this position, but his body was aroused none-the-less. In a way, it felt eerily similar to her.
And the idea that it was her bringing forced pleasure to someone else had her heart racing with a strange kind of excitement. Neither of them wanted to be here and yet . . . she could feel the lust coiling in her core just as she could feel his length hardening against her palm.
She felt the edges of her lips twitch in the barest hint of a smile, something she quickly stymied before anyone noticed. But as she lapped slowly around the head of the thickening shaft, she felt a pleasure blooming in her chest that was not purely sexual.
Brejik's hand disentangled itself from her hair to rub down her back, pressing gently onto her spine as his other hand gripped her closer to him. "Yess, good girl," he crooned again. "What a good girl." But Bastilla ignored his voice as best she could, focusing on the member before her and blocking out the rest of the world. For the first time she could remember, she slowed to savor the taste, savory and exotic. Even the smell was different from that of the others, and she found herself licking not because she was supposed to, but because she wanted to.
When she slid her lips down over his engorged head, drawing him in slowly and languid, she heard the noise he made, this time deep in his chest, and could feel the way he tensed beneath her. He had never tried to lay a hand on her, outside of commands, and yet she was exciting him this way. She could taste salt on the back of her tongue as she forced her way down his length, the training she had been through keeping her gag reflex out of the way as she bottomed out and swallowed around him.
The muscle of his thigh was hard under her hand, and suddenly she was curious for the rest of him. The hand on the floor came up to grasp his thigh as the other skimmed up his leg until she reached his stomach. She brushed against the skin there, dancing under his rough shirt and running her fingers up as far as she could reach, pressing against his collar bone, his chest, feeling the hard ridges carved into his body, the weight of his heavy lekku through his shirt. She could feel him tense and jump under her as she rubbed against his mauve skin, her head moving faster as she swallowed his cock.
The feeling of Brejik's head at her entrance startled her, and she made a little surprised noise against the length filling her throat. She had almost forgotten the man was there, but his hard shaft quickly reminded her, slipping up and down over her slit, pressing against her most sensitive points.
"Enjoying yourself, slave?" he whispered in her ear, his tone harsh and biting, but there was a smile in his voice. She shivered against him, slowing as she waited for him to impale her.
"Look at him," Brejik commanded suddenly, his hand reaching up to grab a fistful of her hair again and forcing her face towards the twi'lek's. "Look at him while you suck."
And she did. Once her gaze found his, dark and intense, she couldn't look away. She leaned back, curving her back inwards and jutting her ass out farther to have a better view of him as she sucked at his shaft once more.
His expression looked almost pained now. She'd never seen it as anything other than the stony mask he usually kept it, and to see him now, with his eyebrows drawn together and his mouth open the smallest amount, his eyes locked on hers, had her pressing back towards the cock at her entrance willingly.
When Brejik entered her, she couldn't stop the blissful moan that rumbled through her, or the way her legs tried to give out under her. She'd never been so wet from just anticipation before, never been turned on by something of her own accord. He had slipped in without a fight, pushing deep within her and hitting the spot he knew too well.
His thrusts were not as brutal as usual, more rocking than slamming, and Bastilla clenched deliciously around him with each movement. Hex's hand came down to cup the back of her head as she drew him in again and again, his dark eyes never leaving hers. She'd never had such a pleasurable experience before. Every nerve felt like it was lit up inside her, every thrust behind her brought her closer to a climax she was so eager to have, and there was no fear, no terror, no shame.
When he felt her edging closer and closer towards the explosion of her orgasm, Brejik grasped a fistful of her hair and held her as he commanded, "Ask him if you can cum." And she didn't hesitate. She had stared him in the eye for so long now, she knew he wanted her to as much as she wanted to. She was almost loathed to remove his length from her mouth long enough to ask.
"Can I cum, Hex?" Just saying his name in that moment had her dangerously close, and she felt the way he jerked in her palm.
"Ka, Jedi, yes," he said, his voice rough and broken. "Yes, cum."
Brejik reached a hand around, found her nub standing at attention, and gave it a few swift strokes before she fell apart between the two men.
Her orgasm stole the last of the strength in her legs, and she may have collapsed if the dark man hadn't caught her. Her fingers bit harshly into the Twi'lek's thigh on one side, and the hand at his violet cock pumped madly, her only thoughts in the moment that nothing had the right to feel like this and that she wanted him to feel it as well.
Her toes were still curling deliciously, and her moans were still loud in the air when Hex bit out a curse and a sharp groan, his cock pulsing in her palm as she worked it furiously.
"Yes, Hex, yes," she moaned blissful, gasping as Brejik pounded harder behind her. The hand the mauve man had held her cheek with fell to grip her shoulder, his fingers biting into her flesh, his gasps growing louder until finally he stilled, and warmth splashed across Bastilla's face.
The Jedi woman enveloped him in her mouth once more, wanting to catch every last drop as he came. He bucked beneath her, his rough voice growling something in Rylothean as he rode out his orgasm.
The sound of the blaster shot seemed like it should have come from another world. It was startling, loud, incongruous in her blissful state. Her head whipped up in surprise, her eyes searching for the source, searching for answers. What she found was Hex's head slumped back against the back of the couch, his arms limp at his sides.
It took her a while to realize the weight on her shoulder where his hand had been was now a chocolate hand holding a blaster pistol.
When she realized what had happened, it was like the world had flipped upside down and inside out. Her stomach dropped and roiled, her body shook, and tears came to her eyes before she had even realized she was upset.
"No."
He'd shot Hex.
The scream that should have come next was blocked by Brejik's hand. The one that had been holding the pistol, now casually thrown onto the Twi'lek's prone body.
"You're mine," he hissed into her ear, vicious and biting. "You will never be anyone else's."
His hand fell from mouth to push her down between her shoulder blades, shoving her face to the ground in one sharp move.
"You're nothing but my pet. Do you hear me."
His thrusts came harder, faster as he plowed mercilessly into her. Each time he slammed into her, pain and fear and grief ripped through her, more than she could bear. The tears fell freely from her face now as she tried not to stare at the worn boots next to her face, or remember who they belonged to. Everything was wrong, and awful, and she wanted so badly to just die where she lay. Anything but stay where she was, in a world that had nothing but pain for her. The sobs broke from her throat, and she cried as her master came inside her.
- 15
- 16
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A Fall From Above