SWTOR: A Smuggler, Not A Patriot: Prologue:
There Are Many Types of Reward
Inspired by the new Bioware MMO set in the Star Wars universe. I own none of the characters, obviously.
The thieves were dead, the medicine recovered and the Cathar woman who'd originally stolen it was most grateful to have it returned. The bestial looking refugee's tufted ears twitched slightly as she accepted the packaged supplies.
"Thank you so much. I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't come along. These poor children would have died and anyone else would have surely arrested me for stealing them in the first place, but you covered for me with the soldiers and dealt with those thieving scavengers. How can I ever thank you properly?" Yael asked asked.
"There's no need to repay me. What sort of man would I be if I let innocent people suffer? Those soldiers signed up to fight, you didn't. And neither did those poor children. I just did what any true man would do." Sulmad said, innocently, if repeatedly drawing attention to his generally obvious masculinity.
Yael brushed her mane back, the pale red fur on her hands contrasting nicely with the brown of her mane and the white of her face. She stepped forward and hugged him tightly. "You did more than anyone else. Thank you."
She moved to press her lips against his cheek, but he moved slightly, catching her mouth with his as powerful arms encircled her, hugging her back and protecting her against the world. After a moment's hesitation, she kissed him back passionately. A graceful leg kicked the door to her hut shut and she pulled him down onto the bed, spinning them so she was on top. She ripped open his shirt, revealing a well muscled and heavily scarred chest, with surprisingly little hair. It might have bothered her if she didn't have a well documented fetish for non-furries (which somewhat limited her interaction with other Cathar given their cultures sexual openness). There were a few scratches from the action against the smuggler and a few more from her claws ripping open his shirt.
Sulmad ignored the pain, getting a thumb under her shirt and pulling it off. She barely got her arms up in time to let him. He ran a hand along the fur of her sides and over her small breasts. "So soft." He said with a smile.
"Too soft. I can't even feel it. Harder." Yael demanded through clenched (and very sharp teeth).
Sulmad began to wonder if he knew what he'd gotten into, he'd never been with a Cathar before. Though he had once seen one cut through a durasteel knife in a bar fight, using only his claws. Okay, his claws were reinforced with cybernetics, but still...
On the other hand, he was already beneath her, so what the hell. Strong fingers clamped down on where her nipples should have been, though they were hidden by fur. Pleasure shot from his fingers like lightning from a Sith inquisitor. Yael arched her back and howled like a bitch in heat (even if she was more catlike than doglike).
While one hand kept a constant pressure on her breast, the other unbuckled his belt and tossed it away, careless of where the blaster fell (one of the advantages of sleeping with people who liked him, as opposed to who were being paid for it was not having to worry, as much, about them shooting him). He unzipped quickly as he really didn't want her to try to shred his pants.
That just left her pants, which she solved with a savage slash that scared the shit (though not the erection) out of him, but left him undamaged. He batted aside the hand that headed towards his cock and guided it up into her himself, as keeping those claws away from his skin was almost as high a priority as getting his cock into her tight cunt. And tight it was. Sulmad might have had a cock that was just on the large side of average for a human, but for a Cathar...
If the other refugees hadn't known better than to burst into Yael's hut, they would have at her screeching as he stretched her pussy the way she loved. It actually hurt Sulmad's ears, but the exquisite sensations coming from his cock more than made up for it.
Her fur pressed against him when he pulled her down, tit first to his chest. Her hands slammed down on the mattress, one on either side of his chest, claws kneading in and out, shredding the soft cloth. His hands slid under hers and grabbed her face, locking her golden eyes on his green ones. Barely controlled lust shone in them and was reflected back at her in his own. The screams grew quiet (quieter, actually) and he smiled savagely at his conquest.
Sulmad tried to slide out and discovered that wasn't how Cathar sexuality worked. Her cunt was producing an adhesive that would hold him inside until she came. An interesting evolutionary trait—and not one Sulmad was aware of.
Not one to panic (usually), Sulmad released her head and ran his hands down her back to her ass and gripped it, firmly, pulling hard, provoking sharp moans from the Cathar woman, who almost collapsed against him, moaning against his ear, though her claws never stopped destroying her mattress. After three tugs convinced him that she wasn't coming off unless she took his cock with her, he gave up and decided to enjoy the ride, as best he could.
He gave her his best rib-cracking hug, forcing her breasts against his chest so hard he could barely breath as she writhed atop him like a living nanosilk blanket determined to grind each inch of its absurdly soft surface against every nerve in his body. The idea of scratching came late to him, pets not being a big part of his upbringing (viewing them more as meat than companions had that effect) but it did occur to him. It provoked another bout of screeching, this one far closer to his ears, but it also provoked more writhing, so it all balanced out. She was anchored at three points, his cock and her hands, but that still left the flexible Cathar an impressive range of motion.
Then she was silent and frozen as the stimulus swept her over the edge of her orgasm. A side-effect of Cathar evolution was a propensity towards easier orgasms, for the women, at least.
