Mission and the Gomorreans

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Mission and Zaalbar were walking through the lower Taris sewer.

 — It sure stinks here, Zee.

 — Arrrghhhh.

 — I understand it's important, but why us?

 — Rrrraaahhhh.

 — I know we're the best, but couldn't the Vulkar have built a passage in a more decent place?

 — Arrrrr rhhhh

 — I know… Wait, what's that?

 — Rrrraaaa!

Zee fired his crossbow into the darkness; the death squeal of a rakghoul was heard.

 — Rakghouls! Run!

Mission ran forward

with Zaalbar behind her; he occasionally fired backward without aiming and, surprisingly, always hit. Mission, grabbing a thermal detonator from her belt, threw it back. An explosion rang out, the air pierced by the howls of dying rakghouls and the smell of burnt meat. After running another hundred meters, the pair stopped in front of a door to catch their breath.

 — Seems like we lost them…

said Mission, trying to catch her breath.

 — Rahhha

 — Yeah, I know they'll follow us, let's keep going, Zee, open the door.

The Wookiee approached the control panel and pressed a button. The door opened… Facing Mission and Zaalbar was a gang of Gamorreans, fully armed.

 — Raaahhhh

Mission realized they had to run, and she ran… Glancing back, she saw the Wookiee punching some Gamorrean in the face, but then Zee fell unconscious—some "pig" had zapped him with a shock prod. And then the worst happened… Mission tripped and fell. Immediately, two Gamorreans ran up to her, grabbed her under the arms, lifted her from the floor, and dragged her toward that ill-fated door.

 — Where are you taking me! Let go! Immediately!

 — Shut up, runt, or I'll shut you up myself.

 — Ooh, how scary…

 — That's more like it… Change her clothes, then bring her out.

The Gamorrean handed some clothing to the fighter standing next to him. Mission was dragged somewhere again. They shoved her into a small tunnel and then let her go.

 — What is this place? Why did you bring me here?

The Gamorrean handed Mission what was now clear to be a golden bikini, the kind usually worn by strippers.

 — Change.

 — What is this? I'm not wearing this!

And as soon as Mission raised her voice, she immediately received a hard slap from her guard.

 — I'm in charge here, I said you do it, got it?

 — Yes…

Mission said resentfully. She picked up the clothing from the floor and said:

 — Well, at least turn around.

 — Not a chance.

He replied roughly, making it clear he wouldn't change his mind. Mission turned her back. First, she took off her vest, then her top, thus exposing her modest B-cup breasts, though the guard didn't see them. Then Mission took off her boots, and only then, unbuckling her belt, began slowly removing her tight pants, turning her head toward her captor as she did so. It was clear he was seriously aroused. His eyes were burning, and a bulge had appeared at his waist level. The Twi'lek decided not to tempt fate and, quickly removing her pants, put on the loincloth, then the "golden" bra, and then the light boots. Turning around, she noticed the Gamorrean's ardor hadn't subsided. She approached him and said:

 — What next.

 — We go there…

He said with a shudder, and they entered a large, round "hall" full of Gamorreans. The room was buzzing, but upon Mission's entrance, everyone suddenly fell silent, and she felt dozens of hungry male eyes on her.

 — What am I supposed to do?

 — Dance!

He said loudly, and music immediately started playing in the "hall." Mission now understood what these lustful pigs wanted from her. But she had no choice, so the Twi'lek began to dance. She had seen strippers dance a couple of times in a bar, so she started copying their movements, then turned her back to the crowd and, with her hands on her knees, began slowly lowering herself, keeping her butt at the same level. Mission heard joyful exclamations and whistles. She shifted the loincloth, exposing her butt to the audience's view, then slapped it with her palm. But immediately, one Gamorrean rose from his seat and ran up to Mission, who had already straightened up.

 — I'm already tired of this!!!

Placing his hands on the bra, Rick—that was the Gamorrean's name—tore it off, then performed the same operation with Mission's loincloth, leaving her only in the short boots. Then he placed his huge hands on her shoulders, forcing Mission to her knees. Rick then took out his member and ran it over the Twi'lek's lips.

 — Come on, you little slut! Suck!

The young Mission had no choice; she opened her mouth and swallowed the green club. Immediately, she was surrounded by about five more clubs, no smaller. The Twi'lek began sucking one cock, and she was jerking off two more with her hands. Most of the Gamorreans were jerking off at this time, but one was found who started pushing his thick fingers into Mission's vagina. The Gamorreans feeding their cocks into the girl's mouth kept changing, but the one fingering her clit remained constant. Soon, Mission was on her knees; beneath her lay one Gamorrean fucking her pussy, she was jerking off two, and sucking a third. So the Twi'lek was "servicing" four pigs at once, but even that wasn't enough for someone. One of the slavers decided to position himself behind her anal opening. Spitting generously on his hand, he smeared the saliva on his cock and, without ceremony, entered the young asshole. Mission would have screamed at the top of her lungs if her mouth weren't occupied. The Gamorrean who had entered her ass began moving slowly, as did the one in her small pussy. Tears streamed down Mission's cheeks, but no one was about to stop.

After about five minutes of fierce sex, all five came together, drenching Mission with their seed. But they were immediately replaced by others… Mission lost track of time; when it was all over, the Twi'lek was practically drowning in semen. At the end of the whole act, all the Gamorreans were asleep on the floor. Mission woke up in the middle of the night, naked and covered in sperm, with snoring all around. She found her clothes and, after changing, quickly escaped from her tormentors.

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