"Y-you see sir; I need to get back into apartment
number three-forty-one. I accidentally locked myself
out." Small hands clutched at the front of a men's
white button up shirt. Nearly all the identical
white buttons had been ripped off. The shirt looked
dirty and wrinkled. It was all the young woman with
short, damp blonde hair wore. She acted like an
escort, purposely allowing her fingers to slip. The
lightly tanned skin of her stomach flashed before
the man's eyes just in time for the woman to cover
herself up again. The man at the lobby was
*sweating*. He had been trying hard to convince her
that there was nothing he could do to help her. It
was a matter of respecting the privacy of the
tower's occupants. She wouldn't go away. She
continued to press. "My boyfriend is out of time
right now. He'll be so mad at me. Please! I'll do
anything!" Her lips quivered. When it looked like
the woman might begin crying, the man broke down.
The bounty hunter known as The Demon made his way
inside of his apartment in one of large towers that
dominated the city of Votrad on the planet Brentaal
IV. He had just returned from killing two smugglers
who had dropped their cargo when faced with an
Imperial patrol, to the dismay of their Hutt
employers. The trip from the Outer Rim back to the
Core had been a long, grueling experience, but he
considered himself to be a civilized man and refused
to live among the filth he thought populated the
outlying systems. Almost immediately upon entering
the dwelling his hands moved to his head, removing
the red helmet, with its distinct horns from which
he drew his name. Revealed was a handsome man,
perhaps in need of a shave, with short brown hair
and vivid blue eyes. As the armor was peeled off
layer by layer it revealed a firm, muscular build,
with some revered war wounds from his time as a
bounty hunter, and sometime assassin, for the past
two decades. He was in need of a shower and a drink,
but the only question was which would come first. He
grabbed a bottle of Corellian whiskey that he
prepositioned before he left on each journey and
moved with it into the refresher where he would
drink *in* the shower. He carelessly tossed his bag
of credit chits aside, as he did not trust banks,
and because he was unable to declare his illegal
income with the Empire. There was more ... much more
... in a wall safe, but he felt his identity was
well concealed, and no one would be foolish enough
to rob him. As he stepped into the shower with the
bottle he took a massive swig, letting out a
powerful scream of exhilaration. It was good to be
Luna Ta'em was watching a live feed on her
holopad. Her eyes scanned the Demon himself as he
arrived home from a fresh kill. She had set herself
up in an apartment directly below his, "Look who's
finally made it home," she said. Her deep brown eyes
remained glued to the screen. She watched the Demon
undress, drink, and disappear into the shower. The
camera seemed to follow him around while still
remaining unnoticed. Inside of the Demon's
apartment, a small black and white cat hid just
behind his toilet. On the outside, it looked
realistic. Its fur was soft. Its noises were
authentic. Even the twitch of its tail seemed all so
*real* when it wasn't real at all. The cat was
cybernetic. None of it was real cat. It was Luna's
eyes into the apartment, and it had been scanning
the apartment for *days* to find his safe. Its
location had been unknown... Until now.
The credits on the ground were merely an
appetizer for what she believed to be in the safe.
The man had fallen into Luna's crosshairs only by
chance. He was simply a man who got a job over her.
As soon as she realized who he was, she couldn't
resist the urge to play with fire. And so, she sat
in an armed chair with her booted feet propped up on
a foot rest. After the boring days she had endured,
it was nice to get a show before robbing the man
silly. She could hear him scream from her open
window. In her mind, she knew it was time to strike.
He had to be tired from work. The whiskey would work
to her advantage, though she wasn't stupid. When she
stood, she armed herself with two vibrorapier. They
were sheathed on her back. She had no qualms about
having to kill the Demon to receive his fortune.
And so, she made her way towards the window. The
distance between her window and his was short.
Through her holopad, she could see her cat-like
droid jump on the window sill. It carefully searched
for any traps, disarming anything it found.
Meanwhile, Luna had placed a large backpack on her
shoulders. She sat upon her window sill with her
legs dangling down over the city, miles upon miles
away from where she was. She had already decided
that she would climb her way up into his apartment
because the distance was so little. She had done
several practice runs. She was ready for this.
Like an experienced cat, she began to scale the
building. Her holopad was clipped to her utility
belt. She needed to know if the situation changed
above. The woman was singing in her head. She
thought about how sweet the victory would taste. No
sooner had she finished her fantasy did she arrive
at his window. Carefully, every so carefully, Luna
slid the window open. Her eyes landed on the painted
picture of a herd of Nerfs. That was it.
Petrus preoccupied himself with the pressing
matter of getting a shower and tying one on. He was
oblivious to the plan that was afoot outside of his
refresher, and he allowed himself to linger, with
his exposed, bruised back beneath the hot water. He
was drinking directly from the bottle, and in no
small doses either ... a lesser man would have
already been drunk. He was debating how long he
would allow himself to stay on Brentaal before going
out on the hunt again. He certainly had enough
credits stockpiled in the next room, but he craved
the hunt ... he craved the kill. Word had gotten to
him that the Imperials were hiring in the next
sector ... good credits too ... and the promise of
wicket, dirty work. He preferred to work alone, and
without a longterm boss, but rumor was some pretty
big names had signed on and it was worth
investigating. The sound of him singing in the
shower ... badly ... began to fill the apartment
consecutively with his feel of the alcohol. The time
he spent in the shower was among his favorite and he
showed no signs of getting out.
The sound of the shower running played in the
background of Luna's thoughts. As indicated on her
holopad, he had not left the bathroom. Steam was
beginning to rise. It threatened to steal away her
visuals, though her visuals were currently on that
picture. "So cliché," she said in a barely audible
whisper." She tossed the painting aside hazardously.
What laid behind it was no surprise: a safe.
The Demon's singing was *terrible*. His baritone
voice might have gained something from her high,
feminine voice if they ever decided to sing a duet
in a Grease-like fashion. You better shape up,
'cause I need a man and my heart is set on youuu.
*You better shape up; you better understand to my
heart I must be trueee*. Shit. Now it was in her
head. Now dancing a jig in front of the safe, she
reached her right hand behind her back. She drew one
of the long, thin swords from its sheathe. She
didn't think twice about brutally sawing open the
man's safe until she had created a hole big enough
for her hands to fit in.
*You're the one I want, OooOoOoOOO*!
*Sweet Christmas* there was a damn lot of credits
in the safe. Luna's eyes sparkled as she stared at
the contents that the naughty man had decided to
hide from her. No sooner had she find it did she
sheathe her sword, grab her backpack, and began
rapidly filling it. She imagined raining credits
down on her bed while she squirmed from side to
side. *You're the one I want, OoooooOoOOooo*!
Petrus would have remained in the shower longer,
but the first bottle of whiskey was empty and he
would need several to get through his first night
back home as he *never* drank on a mission. He
tossed the bottle aside, shattering it into a
thousand pieces, before walking out of the shower
into his living room. His chiseled form was naked,
without even a towel to cover his massive member,
and dripping drops of hot water upon the floor. When
he arrived he saw the beautiful young burglar at his
safe, and he flew into a blind, drunken rage.
"Whomever you are, you've robbed the wrong person,"
he said, as he rushed towards her, stumbling
slightly due to his drunken nature. If he was sober,
he would have grabbed a weapon, and finished her
quickly to preserve her wealth, but unfortunately
for them he was in the early stages of drunkenness.
As he surged forward, he lunged his body at hers,
attempting to aggressively tackle her to the ground,
roughly, ignoring the fact that she was a *she*.
Her eyes flickered toward her holopad. Her vision
in the bathroom had officially been due to the
steam. Her fingers tapped over the screen, summoning
her cat to the window sill where it sat, waiting for
its owner to finish stealing. Loading all those
credits into her back took time. Luna would have
benefited from paying more close attention to what
the Demon was up to. The only warning she had to his
advances were the sounds of a shattering glass
bottle. Her eyes widened. Her head glanced this way
and that like an animal who sensed a disturbance.
What happened next came much too quickly. If he was
a bull, then she was wearing bright red.
Luna understood that her time had run out. She
was sure she had stolen at least several thousand
credits from his safe. She attempted to zip up her
bag when their eyes met. The Demon was entirely
nude. Lust pumped through her body at the very wrong
time. It delayed her reactions, causing her to spill
credits as she began sprinting towards the window.
It was too late. The man was furious. Their bodies
collided. The impact was so hard that it hurt. The
short-haired woman fell to the ground with a
*thump*! "Oomph!" He knocked the air out of her. For
a second, she sucked desperately for breath. As soon
as she recovered, she tried to get away from the
large, naked man who had decided to make her day
very hard. Credits continued to spill out of the
open portion of her bag. Rather than screaming for
him to get off of her, she found it strangled erotic
that they were rolling around the floor together.
His dampness made the tight latex-like material of
her catsuit become tighter. She was very aware of
his nudity. He pressed against her while they moved
this way and that. "Oooh, quite contraire. I robbed
*exactly* the right man." She kicked and punched at
him. She scratched and hissed. He was ruining her
evening plans of bathing in her new credits.
Her attempt to fight back made him snort and blow
hot air like the proverbial bull that she thought
him. Her blows amused him, and he used his
substantial weight on top of her to pin her down and
keep her from escaping. He grabbed her by the
shoulders and began lifting her up and slamming her
back into the ground repeatedly, stronger with each
thrust, and doing his best to injure her. "You think
you can come into my home and steal from me?" he
asked her, his skin turning a shade of red
reminiscent of his armor, as he glared down at her
with piercing blue eyes. "Who are you? How did you
find me?" he asked, but before she could he even
answer he had rolled her onto her stomach and was
pressing her face into the carpet. He tried grabbing
her by the hair, but it was cut so short that he
could not get a grasp, which only made him angrier.
This wasn't the way she had imagined her evening
progressing. She had come into this knowing how
important it was to not engage him...so why had she
waited to break in until he came home? The location
of the safe had been identified with time to spare.
While she took her beating on the floor, she
realized how badly she wanted this. She had come
searching for trouble, the very same trouble that
she was now in. Her head whipped against the ground
each time he slammed her into it. Pain streaked all
over the upper portion of her body. At this point,
she was like a rag doll in a very powerful ape's
hands. She wasn't ready to die, nor did she intend
to die here, crushed by a naked man. She tried to
reach her weapons just as her nose began to bleed.
His yelling made her panic. A warning sign was going
off inside of her head. The time to escape needed to
come now. In all the chaos, the bindings holding her
sheathes on her back had come undone. Her swords
were scattered, just like her plans.
On her stomach, Luna rubbed her bleeding nose into
the shaggy carpet. If he killed her, she'd make sure
she painted his floor nice and red. His hands
flickered through her hair once. This was exactly
why she had gone for a boyish cut It was then that
the woman learned something new. For those who
believe that love and hate are two passionate
emotions with not far between them, that was
absolutely true. Her body was hot. She was furious.
She was even angry when he decided to make a move on
her. However, she didn't hate it. She never stopped
him. His bare body was on top of her in a position
like a big dog mounting his bitch. She couldn't go
anywhere under his weight. On her holopad, roughly
three feet away, she could see the cybernetic cat's
perspective of what was happening.
Her breasts were pressed tightly into the ground
along with the rest of her body. Somehow, she
managed to free her hands from underneath her. She
quickly reached to her utility belt. She grasped a
flash grenade. With her eyes closed, she tossed it
before her. It's shock waves and blinding light were
enough for the burglar to slide away. She crawled on
the ground towards the window. She used her arm to
wipe away some of the blood from her face. (D)
When the flashbang went off he was immediately
blinded, allowing the precocious young minx that was
pinned beneath her to momentarily escape. It
prevented him from achieving his orgasm, and as a
result he was all the more annoyed and irritated
with her. "You bitch!" he cried out in the darkness
with her. One hand covered his eyes the others
searched in vain through the blidness to find her.
"When I get my hands on you..." he threatened, as he
moved through the darkness towards the window, her
only means of escape. As he approached, his foot
tapped up against her leg, and he found her. He
lunged forward, crashing his considerable weight
down upon her with all of his might. As his vision
came back, she was barely visible, but this time he
was careful to get her down upon her back. His body
hovered over hers, as his eyes blinked several times
until her bloodied, mangled, face came back into
view. "Where do you think you're going? And who are
you?" he asked, as he glared down at her menacingly
once more. (d)
This was the day that would never end. Her fingers
had touched with the window sill when the large man
collided with her again. He caught her off guard for
the second time today. Her head smashed against the
ground uncomfortably once more. "Damn it!" She
turned her head to the side to cough up blood.
Another stain had been made on his floor. Whoever
walked through this apartment after he left was
going to wonder what the hell happened. He had
pinned her again, only now she was on her back and
had the capability to use her hands against him.
Through the blood on her face, she focused on his
eyes. She stared at him. She was angry too. He'd
ruined a perfectly good theft! "I was showing myself
out, that's all. I *guess* I should let you finish."
His body spasmed until he collapsed on top of
her, drunk and sexually satisfied. "Who are you?"
Petrus asked again.
Luna gasped for air. He *hadn't* killed her. In
his position, she might have killed the intruder who
attempted to steal all of her riches. At the moment,
she stopped thinking about how dangerous he was. She
screamed loud. Her violence at stopped. Instead, she
held onto him with her hands on his shoulders. She
felt post orgasmic bliss unlike anything before. "Mmmm..."
She didn't reply immediately. Her head was spinning.
She wore a wide smile. He really had turned her into
a stain on the ground, or, rather, many stains on
the ground. The damage was done all around them.
Luna laughed. Her head dropped to the floor softly.
"Luna Ta'em. I only know you as the Demon. Who are
*you*?" She saw her little robotic cat jump from the
window sill, causing her to laugh again. She turned
her head to the side, spotting her holopad an arm's
length away. A hand dropped from him. She reached
towards it, bringing it closer to them until she
could grab it. The feed was still coming in from her
cat. The image on the holopad was of Luna and Petrus
as they were now. She turned the holopad so he could
see. "Surprise! You're on candid camera."
Before Petrus could tell her anything more about
him he saw the recording, and privately wondered if
this had given him renewed recourse to take her
life. His eyes went from the image of the recording
to her and back to the image. He thought about it
for a moment before he started to laugh, smiling
down at her. She had too many talents and too much
ingenuity to kill her. "I have to confess I like
what I see," he informed her, as he rolled off of
her onto the stained carpet next to her. He lay
there on his back next to her, staring up at the
ceiling, and trying his best to catch his breath
after their fight and lovemaking. Suddenly he felt
cold and the only way he could warm himself up was
to grab hold of the vixen in the catsuit and pull
her a top of him. "Luna, I'm Petrus," he said, as he
placed a possessive, kiss upon her bloody face. "And
just because you got me off doesn't mean you get to
leave," he said to her, as his grasp turned wicked,
and tightened around her so firmly that it might
The holopad carelessly hit the floor as soon as
he'd seen it. Luna felt so sleepy after their sex.
Maybe she could prolong escaping for another day.
She looked proud of herself. His pat on the back
felt rewarding. "I'll send you a copy. Who doesn't
love home movies? Mmm..!" He rolled off of her,
taking his cock with him. She could feel a little
rush of cum between her soft thighs. It had been one
hell of an evening. She had gotten about the pain in
her face, and even the possibility of a broken nose.
Instead, she wrapped herself in pure bliss. She
didn't care about anything else. Petrus' riches were
spilled across his floor. He'd won this round.
He moved her so damn easily. Luna lay on top of
him. She didn't fight him, nor did she try to leave.
Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She
got comfortable like she intended to stay there for
a lengthy amount of time. "Petrus, the Demon..." Her
eyes sparkled when she said it. He didn't want her
to leave. She felt it in his kiss. She heard it in
his voice. She even felt it in that deathly squeeze
he gave her. You know? The one that made her squee
like a mouse. "Just because I got you off doesn't
mean YOU get to murder me in my sleep..." She tried
to return a squeeze as tight as his and failed
miserably. Her head fell flat against his chest. Her
ear lay over his heart. Their combine warmth was
working to draw her to sleepy land. "Goodnight, my
demon." She whispered. It seemed that the little
thing had a possessive nature of her own.
As Luna fell asleep, Petrus suspected that as
soon as he drifted off she would make her escape ...
and he could not allow that. Without waking her, he
carefully lifted her up, cradling her in his arms,
and moved towards the bedroom. He lay her battered
form down upon his large bed before walking towards
his large closet. Once inside the closet, he entered
numbers into a control panel, and a second wall
opened up revealing his arms and equipment. He
grabbed a couple of pairs of binders that he
normally used on captured bounties and moved back to
the bed, looking down at the sleeping girl. He was
not done with her. He wondered if he would ever be
done with her. And so he attached one set of binders
down around her ankles, before moving up her body
and placing her arms behind her back. With her hands
behind her back, he bound her again. Content that
she was going nowhere, he climbed into the bed next
to her, and pulled the covers up over them. He
turned to face her, wrapping his arms around her to
further hold her in place, and then kissed her upon
her split lip before he too drifted off too sleep,
but not until after a further hour of considering
what to do about her. As his eyes closed and he
faded into sleep he had made the surprisingly
decision to *keep her*.