**The Corruptor**
*A young Padawan girl crosses paths with an ill-intentioned Sith.*
Thoughts and comments are much appreciated.
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A thick smog suffocated the city of Larin, and its towering skyline struggled to rise up through the fogged clouds. The various towers’ radiant lights shone only dimly through the haze. Just as all of the planet of Nar Shaddaa choked in that smog so too did it choke in crime, corruption, greed and gluttony. The Larin city-sector was perhaps the seediest Nar Shaddaa had to offer—shattering glass and runaway blaster fire dotted the city-sector’s underlying mechanical whirs and hums. No sector was as welcoming to the galaxy’s absolute worst.
In the Larin sector, standing in a quiet alcove beneath a thick, partially-torn tarp was Mia Ayden, a young Padawan on the cusp of twenty. The young woman stood at just over five-and-a-half feet, clad in a tan cloak and modest beige vestments beneath it that clung loosely to her perky chest and slender form. Mia sported a full head of intense, reddish-brown hair tied up in neat tails that each hung down just past the nape of her neck. Her thin lips were only a few shades darker than the fair, light complexion of her flesh, and her vibrant emerald-green eyes never left any confusion as to her wishes or feelings. The thin, silver-plated hilt of a lightsaber rested calmly at her hip. Mia gazed off the near balcony off at the distant city proper, unable to make out much of it through the grayish smog.
“I hate this planet,” She grumbled, thankful her Master was not present to quickly criticize her for her contempt.
Mia tapped her foot impatiently, clutching a circular device in her hand as she awaited any word on her task. Six nights ago the Republic had lost a light cruiser in Hutt Space, just a short ways out from Nar Shaddaa. Attributing the loss of the ship to a failure of its life support system, the Republic arrived later to discover the ship empty, ransacked and looted. That cruiser had been transporting a datadisc, which held on it what Mia could only presume was incredibly sensitive information. Of course, the Republic had declined to disclose what exactly the datadisc held to Mia or her Master. Mia scoffed at the thought—though the Republic loved to keep the Jedi in the dark, Mia knew the Republic to surely be lost without them.
Moments later, the holocommunicator in Mia’s grasp began to pulse and shake. She quickly opened her hand, holding the device on the flat of her palm, and a bright blue light sprung out from its projector. In that blue light spawned the flickering image of Mia’s mentor, Jedi Master Nif Kenn. A Twi’lek, Nif’s bald head sported thick, hairless brows as well as two long lekku, headtails that protruded from the back of his head and draped far down his shoulders. Nif was known to be one of the more soft-spoken and serene of all the Jedi. No doubt it was why he had been chosen to take Mia—a troubled orphan—under his wing. Though Mia would likely deny it, she had indeed grown fond of the man and his guidance.
“Master,” Mia greeted him.
Nif smiled at his protégé and bowed to her. “Padawan. Republic Intelligence has finished tracing the disc. It’s in the Zena District, a hub for scrap traders on Larin’s lower-west wing, beneath the surface.”
Mia nodded. “And if the datadisc’s new owner refuses to return it?” She asked, one eyebrow cocked.
“Then convince him—*gently,*” Nif quickly added, his bright image making a sharp gesture with his hand.
“Understood,” Mia said, standing tall with confidence.
“Do not be afraid,” Nif assured her, his voice gentle and soothing. “We knew this part of your journey was to come. Every child must find its feet, every bird its wings. Find your wings, Mia.”
“I am a Jedi, Master Kenn. I do not fear,” Mia bolstered, her chin high and shoulders straight. And she spoke the truth—she felt no fear towards what, if anything, was to come this fateful night. Rather, Mia was utterly confident, perhaps overly so, as her Master knew she was prone to be.
“You are not a Jedi yet, Mia,” Master Kenn gently corrected her.
“*Yes,*” Mia sighed—her Master loved to remind her of that.
“And Mia—if you by chance become endangered or your life threatened, please, do not hesitate to flee,” Nif warned her, taking on a sudden grave tone. “Know your limits. Be wise. *Be calm.*”
Again Mia nodded. “I understand, Master.”
“Good,” Nif beamed Mia another wide smile, pleased by his Padawan’s sureness, and gave her a curt nod. “Then go.”
Nif’s holo-image collapsed into the communicator, and Mia promptly slipped the device into its hook along her waistband.
The trip to the Zena District was a brief one, and Mia moved briskly. She drew the curious eyes of various species of onlookers as she traveled, but that was per the usual. The gangsters and outlaws that called Nar Shaddaa their home knew a Jedi when they saw them, and were wise enough to steer far clear of them. That was just as well—Mia wanted nothing to do with that lot. Mia knew them to be more likely to grope her than to show her the respect and awe she rightfully deserved.
Mia descended a steep flight of stairs, her tan robes wisping gracefully behind her. As she rounded the first bend towards the Zena District it became apparent to her that, strangely, there was no longer a soul in sight. An utterly empty district within a city was an odd occurrence to be sure, and Mia had never seen anything like it, least of all on Nar Shaddaa.
Mia rounded the final bend to the Zena District, a cavernous, high-ceilinged cove beneath the greater Larin area. It looked much like any other marketplace Mia had visited, with various stalls and stores, many of which boasted bright, extravagant neon signs. But already Mia knew something to be wrong. Like the walkway leading to it, the marketplace was devoid of any sign of life. It was near-silent, with little sound beyond the standard ambience of Nar Shaddaa’s humming. An unnatural cold nipped at Mia’s ears and drew a single shiver from her.
“*Hello?*” She shouted.
Mia’s wandering eyes were naturally drawn to the largest and most colorful sign in the district—*JUNK, SCRAP & SCAVENGE*—affixed diagonally above an open door in the market’s southeast corner. Her hand resting cautiously on the hilt of her lightsaber, Mia carefully stepped through the entryway and into the shop.
Inside the dimly-lit store, Mia could see that, sure enough, its walls were lined with shelves full of all manner of junk and scrap. Half-crushed droid bits, malfunctioning blaster parts, and nondescript mechanical innards that Mia herself didn’t recognize. In the corner closest to Mia was a kiosk-like counter, and in the corner farthest from her stood a de-activated protocol droid, its left forearm having fallen from its elbow socket onto the floor below it. Mia approached the droid cautiously, eyeing its wiry, stripped-down frame. She gently rapped her fist against its metallic skull.
“Don’t suppose you know what happened,” She quipped dryly.
Mia looked to the droid’s arm on the floor, mystified by it. For a fairly tidy shop, it puzzled her to no end as to why this droid’s arm would be left lying about, as opposed to being placed atop the store’s many shelves. Mia’s eyes drifted from the arm to the wall behind the droid, and there she finally saw it: a faded black mark, a blemish splotched against the sterile aluminum of the wall. Mia furrowed her brow as she took a finger and traced it along the cool metal of the droid’s upper arm, down to the still-warm stump at its end. Suddenly, it became clear to her.
*Blaster fire.*
A revolting aura suddenly broke over Mia, a sense of utter dread and disgust that threatened to turn her stomach. Mia took a deep, calming breath before she spun round. In the entryway not twenty feet before her stood a towering man, tall and muscular but lithe, garbed in a midnight-black cloak and hood that cast his face in darkness. At his hip sat a thick-hilted lightsaber.
“A lone Padawan,” The Sith mused, his voice low and silken. “Today *is* a good day.”
“Who are you?” Mia barked at the man.
“You Jedi *never* fail to be slow on the draw, do you? *Always* playing catch-up, you lot.”
“Show your face!”
Honoring her wish, the Sith put his gloved hands to his hood and threw it back. A shock of auburn hair sat above his face of crimson flesh, with intense yellow-gold eyes that glared daggers at Mia. Short, tusk-like tendrils hung from beneath his square jaw. He was a Red Sith, and Mia knew his face—how could she not? He was Lord Venjin, a Sith who slew many in his part in the bloody Sacking of Coruscant not ten years ago. Venjin was one of the vilest Sith to ever serve the Empire, infamous for his taste in young Jedi, as well as his penchant for turning them to the darkness.
“*The Corruptor,*” Mia mumbled.
Venjin grinned wickedly. “I’ve never cared for that title,” He told her, though his expression said otherwise. “I wouldn’t say I corrupt. I’d call myself an… enlightener. And a *claimer.*”
Mia looked over the room quickly, soon realizing that the Sith stood in the only exit. “And what is it you claim?” She asked, humoring him.
Venjin’s devilish grin only widened further, baring his fanged teeth. “Innocence.”
Mia scowled at the Sith, a fierce, boiling anger welling up in her chest. Trapped with this Sith, she didn’t feel to be at his mercy, no, Mia thought it to be just the opposite. There was an unsettled score between them, a debt long-since unpaid, and Mia’s Master was not there to put a stop to it.
“You seem angry,” Venjin observed, scanning Mia’s expression. “No, don’t tell me—you lost friends on Coruscant.”
“Three,” Mia answered coldly. “We weren’t even ten years old.”
Venjin gave her a condescending nod. “You want revenge,” He said sweetly, taking on a mock-understanding tone.
“Maybe,” Mia conceded, hesitant to admit her lust for vengeance, “Master would call it revenge—I’d call it justice.”
Venjin laughed and hung his head. “Delusional.”
Without warning Venjin snapped up his head and flicked out his right hand, lashing out at Mia with the Force, lassoing the holocommunicator from around her waist. Mia was far too slow to react as Venjin yanked the device across the room, lodging it firmly in the gloved palm of his outstretched hand. Mia watched dumbly as the Sith noisily crushed the device in his hand.
“The Republic has failed you, girl,” Venjin mused gravely as he poured the broken bits of the communicator out of his open hand. “As have the Jedi. The men and women you serve, they’ve led you here, *alone,* into danger they didn’t even know existed.”
Mia shook her head. “I’m not afraid.”
Venjin took a few steps towards Mia, slowly, eying her up and down, savoring the sight of her. “D’you know that, in the Sacking,” He began, “Darth Malgus insisted there was no time to enjoy any of the… spoils? So many pretty little flowers… *wasted,*” Venjin gently held out an open hand towards Mia. “Don’t let yourself be wasted. Give me your weapon, girl. *Submit.*”
Mia seethed, her fists trembling at her sides.
Venjin cocked his head. “Or don’t. I’ll enjoy this either way.”
Mia threw her arms forward with a grunt, creating an immense Force shockwave that flung Venjin from his feet. The Sith flew to the far side of the store, crashing loudly into a junk-lined shelf along the far wall. He collapsed with a grunt onto a mess of strewn-about scrap, his black cloak tussled around his limbs. Mia shed her outer robe effortlessly, the fabric sliding smoothly off her shoulders. She brandished her lightsaber in one quick flourish, igniting its vibrant purple blade with a mechanical hiss.
“You’re strong,” Venjin laughed heartily, rising to his feet and throwing aside his cloak. “*Good.* Makes it all the better.”
Venjin drew his own lightsaber from his belt, spurring from its hilt a lengthy, blood-red blade. He gave the saber a few quick swings in the air, testing his weight, staring Mia down as he did so. Then, with a gleeful roar, Venjin lunged towards her. He raised his weapon high and brought it down in a massive overhead stroke. Mia quickly sidestepped the attack, darting beside Venjin as the Sith’s saber cut through the droid beside her, carving its body clean in two from shoulder to waist.
Mia took an opportunistic swipe at Venjin’s side, but the Sith was fast, much faster than he looked. As Venjin shifted his arms Mia’s blade glanced harmlessly off his saber. The brilliant blades of their lightsabers crackled in the collision, and Mia quickly backpedaled away from the Sith. Venjin laughed manically as he continued his assault, storming Mia and swinging at her in a wild flurry.
Mia followed the Sith’s eyes and feet as best she could, parrying each of Venjin’s strikes, but the man’s strength was immense. Every bright, hissing collision of their sabers sapped more strength from Mia’s arms, and soon she found herself struggling to raise her weapon. Focusing then on simple evasion, Mia did all she could to dodge the Sith Lord’s relentless assault. Her feet danced across the floor as again and again she narrowly evaded Venjin’s heavy swings.
Knowing the girl’s strength to have left her, Venjin cunningly guided Mia into a corner of the store. With no ability to sidestep him, Venjin roared as he again raised his massive red saber over his head and again brought it down upon Mia. Mia put both hands firmly to her weapon as she met Venjin’s strike overhead. The red and purple hues of their blades sparked brightly as Mia pressed her weapon forward. She gritted her teeth and grunted, mustering the last of her strength. Quickly Mia’s lightsaber began to come down towards her, unable to weather Venjin’s colossal strength. Finally, Mia embraced her fate. She was to become one with the Force—or so she had thought. But the Padawan did not truly know Venjin. Not yet.
Venjin freed one of his hands and coiled it tightly around Mia’s right wrist, twisting her hand in reverse. Agony shot through Mia’s wrist, a pain she couldn’t bear. She released her grip on her weapon, and Venjin quickly took his hand and violently wrenched her lightsaber out of her grasp. Disarmed, Mia stumbled backwards, falling onto her bottom with the flat of her back against the wall. Venjin stood over her and spun her lightsaber proudly in his hands, admiring his trophy. Mia flinched as Venjin suddenly lowered the end of her saber to her head, its tip stopping just inches from her right eye. Nearly blinded by the light, Mia quickly jammed her eyes shut.
“Malgus would want you dead,” Venjin said somberly.
“Then do it,” Mia growled, her eyes closed.
Venjin sighed. “But he doesn’t understand just how wasteful that’d be.”
Mia opened her eyes when she heard Venjin defuse the two lightsabers. The Sith had put the two weapons away and now looked to his belt as he unfastened it from his grayish trousers. Unwilling to idly sit by, Mia darted through the open space between Venjin’s legs and up onto her feet.
“No,” Venjin uttered calmly as Mia felt the Force enclose around her legs, tripping her onto her stomach with an audible oomph.
In an instant Venjin was upon Mia, over her, his weight bearing down on her. His lips were to her ear, whispering to her, “*I love Jedi celibacy.*”
Venjin grabbed Mia’s shoulders and roughly spun her round, onto her back, so that she faced up at him. Mia could see now that Venjin had partially disrobed, the rippling crimson of his chest bared to her. Suddenly Venjin put his lips to hers, stealing a tender kiss from her. Mia grunted in disgust and wrenched her head away from the Sith. Venjin snickered, amused by the girl’s belligerence. He used the opportunity to pull away the bands fastening Mia’s hair, casting her long red locks down her shoulders.
As Venjin’s hands pushed and pulled hungrily at Mia’s vestments, disrobing her, Mia wanted to scream. She wanted to shout and holler, to weep open and loudly like a child… but her Master’s words echoed in her mind:
*Be calm.*
No, this Sith wanted her to sob, he wanted her to feel terror, and Mia wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. No, she would find peace. But how?
*The Code.* Yes, the Code would help her.
*There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.*
Venjin tore Mia’s garments from her, stripping her down to her taut, snow-white undergarments. Then too were her underclothes taken from her, exposing her smooth, pale flesh to the cool air. First bared were Mia’s perky, sizable breasts, and then too the bald pink slit between her legs, which she then quickly guarded behind her closed thighs. Venjin hastily slipped out of his trousers, joining Mia in the nude. He took this thick arms and forced apart the Padawan’s slender legs, placing himself between them, and Mia felt his long member pressing stiffly against her inner thigh. Her heart raced in her chest.
*Again.* She would recite the Code again.
*There is no emotion, there is peace.* The Sith turned Mia’s head towards his and again joined their lips, kissing her sweetly, passionately. *There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.* Venjin’s probing hand groped one of Mia’s bountiful breasts, roughly thumbing her pink, on-end nipple between two of his fingers. *There is no passion, there is serenity.* Venjin slipped one of his hands down to his groin, taking his lengthy manhood in hand. *There is no death, there is the Force.*
No, wait, that was wrong! Mia had forgotten a line—how? How could she have forgotten what she had recited by heart with Master Kenn thousands of times over? Mia gulped loudly as she searched frantically for the words, words that had so often given her calmness, words that terror were now scattering in her mind. From the beginning, she thought. She’ll simply start from the beginning.
*There is no emotion, there is*—Mia yelped as the Sith pushed into her the thick head of his crimson manhood in one long, savage stroke. Venjin hilted himself into her pink slit, tearing through her hymen, claiming her, tainting her. The Sith’s thick, insidious tool violently forced apart her youthful walls, and Mia’s breath caught at the intense pinch she felt within her. In a cruel bit of irony, the blood of her deflowering was unnoticeable against Venjin’s red-fleshed manhood. The Sith groaned hungrily into Mia’s mouth as he kissed her, delighting in the virginal cunt coiled tightly around his nefarious prick. Venjin thrusted violently into her, his pair of testicles slapping lewdly against her toned bottom, and Mia’s pink folds clung snugly to his receding prick after every thrust. Mia found herself at the conflicting mercy of pangs of both pain and pleasure, and an odd warmth began to flush through her limbs.
Mia laid motionless, looking away and taking care to never lay eyes on the Sith grunting over her. Angered by her coma-like lethargy, Venjin tore his mouth from Mia’s lips and put a hand to her throat, holding just tight enough to frighten her out of her daze.
“*Weak,*” Venjin spat hatefully.
The Sith took his other hand and shoved apart Mia’s right thigh as far as he could, giving him a greater angle into his prize as he crashed his hips into hers. With a lustful haste the Sith plunged his great length to the depths of Mia’s innards. She whimpered at the apex of each long, quick thrust. Flush with an insidious thrill, Venjin’s member greedily drooled his pre-seed within Mia, slathering the Padawan’s innermost walls with his essence. Long-fought-back tears now overwhelmed Mia and welled up in her eyes. Plucked by a Sith—there was no crueler fate.
“What is your name, girl?” Venjin suddenly snarled at her, his hips still plunging into hers, pillaging her greedily.
Mia did not answer.
“Your name, girl!” Venjin shouted, tightening his grip around her throat. “Tell me your name!”
“Mia,” She mumbled.
“*Mia,*” Venjin crooned, savoring the word as it rolled off his tongue.
The metallic floor was cold on Mia’s bare back, and the lewd slapping of flesh seemed almost deafening in her ears. Her pain had largely subsided, and she felt only a faint, buzzing warmth as Venjin’s member rocked her, bouncing her breasts and buttocks with every forceful thrust.
The Sith’s breath quickened, and Mia quickly took notice.
“Don’t,” She pled in a whisper. “Don’t, please.”
Venjin ignored Mia’s begging. He took his hand from her throat and put it to her shoulder. He threw back his head and groaned as he forced Mia down onto his tool, as far as he could manage, until the pink lips of her sex kissed the base of his groin and Venjin’s cockhead pressed against the entrance to the girl’s empty womb. Mia’s cunt clenched and hugged Venjin’s member tightly as it twitched joyfully within her, shooting his foul seed in long, white ropes. The Sith collapsed atop Mia with a sigh, shuddering as his prick finished dumping his thick load in Mia’s fertile, virginal womb.
Venjin let out a long, contented sigh and rose to his knees over Mia, admiring his handiwork. His thick essence had begun to trickle out from between Mia’s thighs in a long, white streak. Mia made no reaction when Venjin put a hand over the underside of her bare belly, just beneath her navel, and gently waved it. Mia could… feel it, she could feel the Force guide the strongest and worthiest of Venjin’s seed to its destination. The blooming of life heralded a warm aura, radiating from Mia’s belly, and it left no mistake to her what had been done.
Venjin stood to his feet and clothed himself with a calculated quickness, no doubt being soon needed elsewhere. He threw his black cloak over him, fastening it hastily over his shoulders. Venjin then surprised Mia by again kneeling beside her. He cupped her cheek tenderly, and Mia’s glossy eyes gazed numbly into his shadowed face.
“You will remember this, Mia,” Venjin said to her sweetly as he affectionately stroked her cheek. “Every time you disrobe, every time you shower, every time you feel the kick of our spawn within you, you will remember this… and it will make you angry. *Drink* in that fury, Mia. Be *strengthened* by it. We both know you are no Jedi,” He gently shook his head. “And you never will be. Break your chains, Mia.”
Venjin gave her a final gentle tap on the cheek, before he then rose from his knees, and he left her.
Mia laid there in the cold and the silence for some time, thoughtless and hushed. Until, abruptly, a strange feeling broke against her like a tidal wave against a rock, an emotion that she had not felt so intensely in some time. She rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up, onto her hands and knees. She balled up her hands into fists and brought them down hard on the metal floor, then again and again, bloodying them. Mia cocked her head up and shouted at the height of her lungs. The shelves in the room were torn down around her as she lashed out wildly with the Force, hatefully shattering scrap and angrily grinding junk into a fine dust.
Only one thought came to Mia then. It wasn’t the lost datadisc, it wasn’t the Republic, it wasn’t her Master, it wasn’t even the new life that now stirred within her. It was one utter desire, singular and primal: *revenge.*
With that thought, the thought that pounded and pulsed in her mind like a steady, unending heartbeat… she had been lost.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/4sgfpx/the_corruptor_mf_nc_virgin_forced_star_wars