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You burst into the room with wide, frantic eyes as you took in the scene. The goggled clone was hyperventilating as he clutched his chest, tears streaking down his face. He looked up at you with a look of pure fear and anguish. The girls were all backed away from him, and you motioned for Garnett to step forward. “Give him room and bring him to mine. He’s not dying,” you said firmly.
“Are you sure?” a skinny thing squeaked at you. She was still new here, and it was clear that this would’ve been the first one to die in front of her. As morbid or gruesome as it was, it wasn’t rare for it to happen. Sometimes, the clientele got a little too excited.
“Yes. He’s just having a panic attack and needs to calm down. My room, Garnett, thank you,” you nodded. The bothan male scooped Tech into his arms with ease. Tech was slender but tall, so seeing him curled up in the burly, furry man’s arms was almost comical, especially since he only had on black shorts at this point in the evening. He couldn’t take his liquid chocolate eyes off of you as Garnett carried him out and to your room on the 2nd floor. “Take the night, Marlow,” you said and handed a bundle of credits over to the girl, who nodded.
“Uh, Shira was here, too. I don’t know where she went,” Marlow added.
“Find her and make sure she knows she didn’t kill him. He’ll be fine. I promise,” you said and handed her another stack of money for the other girl. You had forgotten that Tech was a fan of at least 2 girls at a time. He tended to find the most pleasure when he got to see his toys in play, and 1 girl just simply didn’t have enough holes or nerve points for what he wanted to test out.
You left the girl and made your way out to the bar. Madam To’low was standing behind the wooden countertop, pouring drinks into glasses. There was one for you, which she gently pushed across the bartop. It was your favourite, a tall glass of Phattro, and you downed it in one go. Madam To’low’s eyebrows raised with your gulps, and you slammed the drink on the countertop, only for her to fill it up from the pitcher she had ready.
“Gonna be a long night, isn’t it?” she asked as she checked the schedule on her datapad. Your last client had left just minutes before Marlow had pounded on your door, and you were slotted for a midday visitor tomorrow. With Tech in your room, there wasn’t really going to be time to really rest.
“He’s in a bad way. Dunno what’s going on, but I s’pose it’s something to do with Hunter not being here,” you mentioned. You had seen the Marauder when it landed, as you were leading your client into your room, and there was a notable lack of the long-haired leader of Clone Force 99. But then your client gave you those pouty lips that said she wanted all of your attention, and you weren’t able to investigate it further.
“They said he got stuck on the med bay, sent them out here to relax after a mission,” To’low said to you as she handed you a tray with your glass, an empty glass, and a pitcher of Phattro. You nodded in thanks as you took it into your grasp, taking in a deep breath. “You got this, kid,” To’low assured with a smile. You smiled back and nodded, making your way up the stairs to your room.
Your room was one of the larger ones in the House. You had started off in a shared room, then gotten your own small space after your first month, then by the end of the 3rd month, you moved into this room that has been your own for the last 8 years. Your bed had washed out, horizontal, wooden slats for the head and foot boards, and it sat against the left wall. Neatly pressed and tucked in white and grey sheets adorned the top of it. There were 4 large, white sleeping pillows there, none decorative and two on each side. There was a nightstand on both sides of the bed, each hosting a lamp with grey shades. To the left of that, along the wall that the entrance door was on, was a grey sliding door closet. Between the closet and the door was a makeup station of white wood. It was neat and orderly, though there were a couple of scarves you hadn’t put away from your last client sitting on top of it. The mirror was lined with bulbs, but it was turned off at the moment. There was an open area between the bed and the seating area, where you did your morning stretches. The seating area usually had 3 seats of choice: a long couch, a love seat, and an armchair. The armchair was missing today, as you had sent it in for repairs and reupholstering. In the middle of these seats was a coffee table. In the corner beside the long couch was a small, open kitchen, a door there leading to a private ‘fresher. Next to that door, along the right wall, was a fireplace, a TV hanging above it, and it was still left on, playing some soft music from a playlist you had made. The walls were a pleasant pale blue at the top that faded to a dark grey at the bottom. The fireplace was red brick and blazing. Your room was neat, orderly, and surprisingly cozy due to the candles that littered the furniture and the stringed lights that draped around the ceiling.
Tech had been placed on your bed, and he was sitting up with his knees curled up to his chest and his head tucked in his arms. A deep frown pulled at your lips as you set the drinks down on the coffee table and made your way to the clone.
“Tech,” you whisper, your voice gentle and oozing the love you held for the man. It pained you to see him in such a state. You lay a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he jumped at your touch. He looked at you with wild eyes, and you frowned before gently pulling his goggles off to rest on the bed beside him. He allows you to, and he stares at you with deep lines around his eyes where his goggles usually sit. You move to sit in front of him, legs dangling off the bed, and he allows you between his spread knees. You gently wipe away his tears and run your hands through his hair in long strokes upward, running to the back of his head, and then back and forth again. Your hands run across the shaved sides of his hair and then through the longer locks on top, and you start to pepper his forehead with light kisses. His eyes closed and he let the feeling wash over him. You don’t say anything until his short, sharp inhales are calmed down to regular breaths with the occasional hiccup.
“Hey, love. How are you?” you coo as he relaxes a little. He opened his sad eyes to look at you, and he shook his head a little.
“Hey, cyare. I’m…” he started before trailing off. You didn’t often see Tech at a loss for words, and you had to say, you didn’t care for it much. You loved how chatty the man was, and he always had a throng of facts for you to learn. Some of these facts you actually applied to some of your other clients, whether it be a distraction or an actual tid-bit that’s relevant to them. Tech was always excited about something he was working on or something he was learning. That brain of his was always craving more and more information. You knew it was part of his mutation, but it seemed like he was more enthusiastic about learning things than some others would’ve been.
“Hey, you don’t have to say anything,” you shushed him, stroking his cheek as you did. He leaned into your touch, raising a hand to lay on yours as he held it closely. He smiled softly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “C’mon. I need a soak, and I think you could do with one.” You slipped your hand out of his and tugged on one of them for him to follow you. He scooped his goggles into his hand before allowing you to drag him to the ‘fresher.
You had personalised your fresher when you got the big room. It was just a shower, a sink, and a toilet before. Then you broke down the walls, took up a small portion of the room, in order to make room for a massive, corner tub. There were large windows overlooking the scenery and sky above. The view into the refresher through these windows were slightly obscured by plants and bamboo trees that grew along them. There were glass panels that sectioned off a rectangular area next to these plants, also covered with their own vines and flowers to obscure the inner area from the doorway. This was there your open shower was, with the only entrance into the rectangle being a turn from the bathtub. Your toilet sat in its own little corner, blocked off by half-walls and potted plants on top of that. Your vanity sink was a two-fer, and the flat, sink-length mirror above it showed you all of your flaws in the morning. There were candles stationed around the room, but none were lit. The soft glow from paper lantern string lights was enough for the room, as they dangled from the ceiling and along the windows and glass. You didn’t spend much time with people in here as you usually preferred to wind down on your own.
You dropped your robes onto the pale blue rug without ceremony; Tech had seen you naked before (and a lot more than just your naked body). Even through his anxiety, you could see his eyes trace over your body. He scrutinized you with every ounce of calculation he possessed, and you were sure he was thinking about all the different ways he could please you. But today was your turn to please him.
You moved to the tub and started running a hot bath, being sure to add a small amount of lavender and chamomile syrup to the mix. As the scents flowed into the room, you moved back to Tech, taking his hand in yours, and pulling him into your embrace. He didn’t fight the hug. He actually leaned into it, melted into your arms, and his hands grasped at your back tightly. You just held him, stroked the back of his head and his shoulders, and wouldn’t let go. It wasn’t long before you felt his shoulders shaking as he started to cry again. You gripped him tighter. He was clinging to you, but he couldn’t stand anymore. He dropped to his knees in front of you and wrapped his arms around your hips, burying his face into your sternum and abdomen as he sighed heavily. His tears were still flowing, but he seemed to be more relaxed in your grasp.
“C’mon, babe. I need to clean and warm up,” you whispered and tugged on his shoulder. He stood up and let you pull his undershorts down. It was nothing you hadn’t seen before, but that wasn’t to say you weren’t pleasantly surprised by it nonetheless. You dropped your robe to the ground, making sure to take his hand in yours again, and helped him into the tub. You knew he loved doing the touching when it came down to it, but you also knew he loved to be touched otherwise. A stroke of his cheek, a brush of his hand, a kiss on his shoulder; he was putty in your hands.
“Were you able to de-stress with the girls at all?” you asked as you reached onto the stand beside the tub and turned on the speakers to mirror the TV you had (accidentally) left on in the bedroom.
“Didn’t get that far,” he muttered. You turned to look at him and sunk down into the water until it covered your shoulders. There was still a bit to go before you would turn off the water; you liked being able to sit up and have the water minimally touch the underside of your breasts.
“Was it related to the girls at all?” you asked. He shook his head. “In relation to performance?” He shook his head fiercely. “Hunter?” That seemed to freeze him. You ran a hand over his thigh, gently, before running it slower and massaging the tension in the muscles there. Your smile was as gentle as your voice as you soothed him. “Hey. It’s okay. Let’s just enjoy the bath, okay?”
He sunk lower into the water to mirror you, his eyes raising to focus on your face. You smiled and lowered a little to take some water in your mouth. He furrowed his eyebrows, lip curling a little. “That is incredibly unhygienic, cyare,” he said. You just smiled and spit the water at him in a strong stream. It hit him square in the face, and he blubbered indignantly, sitting straight up and out of the water while raising a hand to frantically block what he still could. You broke into a giggle, watching him swipe at his face. He looked at you in shock, wondering what the kriff you were thinking, but he couldn’t help but break into a laugh as well. Your giggle was infectious.
“That’s disgusting,” he commented.
“Yeah, but you laughed,” you pointed out. He paused, unable to argue that, and motioned with his hands for you to come to him. You did, moving slowly through the water, and he pulled you into his lap. His hands settled, clasped on your hips, and she took a moment to bask in his grasp. “Hey.” He looked at you with half-closed eyes, exhaustion starting to settle on him as his panic receded. “Let me love you tonight, okay?”
He took in a deep breath and nodded. You smiled.
You moved to straddle his waist, facing him. You reached to the side to turn off the water, and the room was quieter now. Soft music kept it from being silent, and it was relaxing in the lowlight. Your hands moved over the muscles of his abdomen, up over his chest, dancing over his shoulders, and dragging down his arms. He let his head fall back, eyes closing, as he rested it on the edge of the deep tub. You smiled and started to massage the clone. Your fingers beat patterns into his forearms. You massaged tension from his shoulders. You felt him melt beneath your touch.
“Stars, Tech, why are you so beautiful?” you ask softly as he relaxed. He smirked a little and opened his eyes to peer at you curiously. He looked youthful and partnered with his eager knowledge, many mistook him to be naive or innocent. You knew from first hand experience that he was neither. A bit dense sometimes, but he had textbook knowledge of literally anything.
“Because I am a mistake. A deformity,” he responded like it was fact.
“Hmm… A deformity for sure,” you say and narrow your eyes as you scrutinize the man. He grows visibly uncomfortable under your gaze as you seemed to focus on a spot on his forehead. “Only way to explain how stupid you are.”
“I am not stupid!” he bristled beneath you.
“Then don’t call yourself a mistake,” you snap back, eyes narrowed but staring into his hazel hues now. He frowned lightly at that.
“But I am. That’s why I’m part of the Bad Batch. We’re all mistakes,” he explained. You roll your eyes and pinch his cheek. “Ow! Cyare!” He cried as he rubbed the spot, eyebrows knit.
“Don’t want pinches, don’t say stupid shit,” you mutter, and he clamps his lips shut. He definitely didn’t want more pinches. “You’re not a mistake, Tech. If you were, they would’ve gotten rid of you, like they did the defected clones. You were an accident for sure, but not a mistake,” you said with a shake of your head. “And I refuse to sit here and listen to one of my great loves be called a mistake.”
He smirked at that and muttered, “Accidents and mistakes are the same thing.”
“Not to me, they’re not. An accident is something that just… happens without meaning to. A mistake is something you regret. And I can’t imagine ever regretting you, Tech.”
His eyes soften at your words, and he sighed heavily. It was a sigh you were familiar with. Finally, he was going to tell you what was wrong. It was the sigh of someone who decided that holding themselves together wasn’t worth the effort and pain anymore. It was one of your favourite sounds in the world; coming from the batch, it was music.
“I made a mistake, mesh’la,” he whispered. You didn’t say anything, instead turning your attention back to his muscles like you intended to tenderize him with your fingertips. He pressed into your touch, and you worked a particularly nasty knot out of his left shoulder. He closed his eyes again and there was a small hitch in his breathing before he spoke again. “I got Hunter seriously injured.”
“You didn’t hurt him,” you pointed out.
“No, but my incompetence did,” he snarled. He kept his eyes closed, but his eyebrows were knit together now. There was a frown on his lips. “I didn’t do the research necessary for the mission. I thought I had, but there were things I forgot to look up, forgot to memorise. And… Hunter paid for it,” he said. You didn’t say anything, but there must’ve been a look of confusion on your face because he took one look at you before diving into an explanation.
“We were on a mission on a rain forest planet. Our objective was simple: recon on an outpost that was rumoured to be smuggling droids onto civilian-type ships. Easy enough, so we were confused as to why I sent us. I thought I looked everything up that I needed to; the climate, the winds, the foliage, the type of natural predators. I spent the entire prep week and part of the flight there just reading and learning. It is a fascinating planet, cyare. There’s a flower there that blooms only once every 10 years, and only when it’s raining. But when it does, it stays in bloom year round. It’s a gorgeous thing.” There were stars in his eyes as he gushed about the flower. But then they grew dark again. “Anyway… I overlooked something about the landscape. And Hunter got stuck in a patch of fast-sinking metal ore. It looked just like the rest of the charcoal path, but he almost fell through immediately. We were trying to pull him out, but it was like he was dangling in the middle of a tornado; almost impossible. We got caught out there, and it was a firefight while also trying to keep Hunter alive. It’s a miracle we made it out. Echo dug him out as Wrecker pulled, Cross gave them cover fire, and I… I felt useless,” he said.
“But you weren’t,” you said. You knew that he may have been a brilliant strategist and information technician, but you also knew he was fully capable in the field. You were often recanted tales of their missions, and he was nothing short of badass in all of them as well.
“I froze, cyar’ika. I just… I froze. And it took a slap from Wrecker to knock some sense into me,” he said. Your eyebrows raised in surprise, and he laughed a little. “Hunter’s orders,” he reassured her. “But for a while, I couldn’t think. All that I could focus on was the fact that I didn’t know about the sinkhole.”
You grabbed a bottle of body wash and poured a little onto your white loofah. The ointment was a pale green, and it smelled like cucumbers and sea salt. You ran it over his body, gently scrubbing the man. He kept talking.
“I just can’t stop thinking about how… maybe if I had been prepared, maybe if I just read more, then maybe Hunter wouldn’t be sitting in a med bay with 4 blaster holes in him and a bruised bottom half,” he sighed. He took the loofah from your hands, to your surprise, and he ran it over your skin. Up and down your arms, across your shoulders, back and forth in a slow and steady rhythm. His eyes were on you, but his mind was lost in memories and pain.
“I can’t stop thinking that… he almost died because I wasn’t ready. I didn’t do the one thing that was supposed to be my specialty. I didn’t do the one thing that makes me different from the others. It’s the one thing that makes me, in your words, an accident rather than a mistake.” He huffed at the thought of it, the loofah making its way over your back and along your spine. Then he moved it to your front, and his hands were gentle as he scrubbed. Despite fondling your breast, there was nothing sexual about his touch. It was a gentle and thorough search to ensure he cleaned every part of your body. It seemed to relax him. It was something he knew he could do. The loofah dipped farther down, travelling down your stomach, and you were a little shocked at the abrupt way he dove it between your legs. “Lift, cyare,” he commanded with a focused gaze. You did as told, and he made sure to clean between your thighs well, cleaning himself while he was down there.
“I… I need to learn more. I need to make sure that nobody else gets hurt because they’re relying on me to do something, something I should’ve been doing, and I didn’t do it correctly,” he finished his little rant, handing you the loofah back. You set it off to the side and started to drain the tub, taking his hand to lead him to the shower. You turned on the water, and it rained down on the two of you from directly above. He seemed to be surprised by the appearance of it. Probably used to the ones that come out of the wall, but you had insisted on an overhead sprinkler like being caught in the rain. He pulled you close, seeking your warmth and the comfort of your skin on his. You smiled and ran your hands over his body, wiping away suds and bath soap. He was so much taller than you, the same height as that lanky sniper, so you motioned for him to stoop just a little. He looked behind him and folded down a bench that folded up and down with chains. He sat down, being the perfect height to look you straight in the chest.
“I don’t know how much more you can learn, Tech,” you said and grabbed your bottle of shampoo. You massaged it into his hair, feeling the soft locks give way beneath your fingers. He leaned into your touch, loving the way you massaged his scalp. “You already know so much, and I hear you do an insane amount of research already.” From the others, but most notably Cross. You had been playing a drunken game of sabacc with the clones, and Cross went on a long rant about how Tech was “all research, no fight”. He had yelled about how he just “needs to kriffin’ do it, stop overthinking so much”. It was pretty amusing at the time. Who knew it would come in handy now?
“Not enough. Not enough to stop them from getting hurt,” Tech pouted and stood up to shampoo your hair for you. You smiled in thanks, and it was oddly intimate for the clone to touch you like this. His lithe fingers worked skillfully through your hair, pulling through the strands with ease. He was concentrating so hard on making sure he was doing it correctly. You couldn’t help but giggle at him. “What?” he asked, but you shook your head and refused to elaborate.
“You can only read so much, bud. You could know every detail of a place, but it’s never going to prepare you for the actual experience,” you said. He narrowed his eyes on you slightly, sure to ask you to explain, so you just did. “I knew this job was going to involve sex. Right? Like, that’s pretty brain-dead. But nobody prepared me for all the different things people like to do. Or the different species I’d meet. Or how I would actually end up listening to people so much.” You shook your head with a little laugh, and he moved on to the conditioner.
“I knew, from that first night, that Madam To’low intended for my specialty to be listening to people’s problems, letting them vent, and maybe offering an encouraging word or two. I knew that was my purpose in this House. I knew exactly what was expected of me… but knowing I was going to listen to people and actually listening to them are two very different things. I can’t imagine that yours is much different than that,” you say as he washes out the conditioner from your hair as well. After your hair and body were clean, you shut the water off, and you stepped out onto a bamboo mat. You offered him a towel, which he wrapped around you, much to your surprise. He dried you carefully, gently, and he allowed you to do the same to him.
“But your job is listening to people. My job is knowing information to keep my brothers and I from dying,” he said after you led him out of the ‘fresher. You motioned for him to sit back on the couch, and he did so as you poured him a glass of Phattro. You grabbed your own and joined him.
“Yeah, that’s true. And that’s something I’ll never be able to understand,” you say, taking a long drink from your glass. You loved this drink, truly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s theory versus practicality. You can be as prepared as you want, Tech, but something’s going to go wrong. You can’t learn everything from a book,” you said.
“But I can learn enough to not put them in danger!” he insisted. You shook your head to him.
“Tech, cyar’ika, listen to me.” You set your glass down and grabbed his face between both hands, smushing his cheeks as you stared him directly in the eye. “You can’t beat yourself up over something that already happened. Okay? And you can’t expect yourself to learn everything going forward. You have to be reasonable. You’re just one person.”
“A person whose sole job it is to know things,” he insisted, though a bit muffled and warped from the smushening. You huffed in irritation and let go.
“Well, if you want to know things, then know that I am annoyed,” you muttered and poured yourself another drink. You stood up and went to your closet, sliding one of the doors open to grab a robe from within. He was still sitting naked while you wrapped yourself up in a pale pink, silk robe. You sat down at your makeup station and brushed your hair, a little rougher than you should’ve, but Tech was being a stubborn osik head. He appeared behind you silently, and his hands rested on your shoulders as he bent down to kiss your cheek. You started at him through the mirror, only partially irritated now.
“You’re right,” he whispered, and you knew how hard he had to bite down on that pride of his to say so. “I’m sorry.”
You turned in your seat to look at him, a faux glare on your face as you crossed your arms. “Right about what?” you demanded. He sighed and sat on the bed behind you, leaning back on his elbows.
“I… I can’t expect to learn everything about a mission before we go. That’s ridiculous. That’s just… me being unreasonable,” he said slowly. “You’re right that I have to accept that the mission is over and thinking about what I could’ve done is doing nothing but driving me crazy.” You opened your mouth to speak, but he held a hand up. “And I know, you’re right. You’re right that I should go easier on myself and not expect so much, especially since the others think I’m doing a fine job. And Hunter isn’t even mad at me.” You nodded and went to speak again, but he just kept going. “And yes, I know that I do tend to take these intellectual failures harder than any other ones, especially when it results in an injury. So I will do better about not beating myself up over it.”
You weren’t going to say so much, but he did the talking for you, so you weren’t going to complain.
“Did I… did I get it right?” he asked, his voice small and searching for approval. How could you stay aggravated when he sounded like that and looked at you with those puppy dog eyes of his? You smiled and nodded, standing up to crawl onto him on the bed. You nudged his legs with yours, and he moved to lay on the bed properly.
“You did. And now, you get a reward,” you muttered as you straddled him. His mood shifted from seeking approval to excitement at a surprise yet to come. Your lips started at his earlobe, your teeth nibbling gently, as your tongue traced over the soft skin. He was immediately captivated. Your lips kissed a path from his earlobe, over his jawline, up from his chin, before finally taking his lips with yours.
His cock twitched beneath you.
You started off slowly, a gentle press of lip to lip, before letting that melt into a capture of his lower lip between your teeth. The nibble was gentle, teasing, before you kissed him again, this time with your tongue knocking and asking for a dance partner. He was happy to oblige, his fingers finding home on your hips. Your tongues danced while you ground against his cock that was growing between your thighs. You could feel your slickness growing, rubbing against his soft skin. As your heat grew, so did his erection.
You pulled away from his kiss, making him whine though it quickly turned into a gasp when your teeth found his neck. Your bites were a little more on the rough side of gentle. His hands made quick work of taking off the robe you had just thrown on. You smiled and shrugged it off, tossing it over the edge to the ground. He smiled and went to sit up, but a firm hand on his chest kept him laying down. His eyebrows rose.
“You’re getting a treat for learning, Tech. Learning that you can’t do everything. So, now, you get to do nothing,” you whisper. He seems confused, his head tilting to the side in that quizzical look you loved on him. You smiled and explained the rules as you moved his hands from your hips and to his sides. “You don’t get to touch me, or I stop and start over. You don’t get to buck beneath me, or I stop and start over. You don’t get to move, or I stop and start over. Understand?”
“I don’t like this game,” he muttered.
“No, I’m sure you don’t. But you have to learn to be okay with not being in control,” you say and press a kiss to his forehead. “Do you understand the rules?” you ask again.
“Yes, I do,” he muttered, clearly disgruntled. You laugh. You don’t care.
Your lips find his collarbone, placing kisses there that start at the top of his sternum and go to his shoulder, before you drag your tongue back along the path. Tech watches you with hungry eyes. Your kisses travel down his chest, stopping at his left nipple. You tease it with your tongue, swirling around it before taking it into your mouth to suck just a little too hard. He hissed in pleasure, back arching to push his chest against you. You stop your movements and raise an eyebrow as you looked at him. He looked at you in surprise.
“You know the rules, Tech,” you admonished him softly.
“Even that?” he asked in shock. You smile and nod, moving back to his ear. This time, you spend a little more time on his neck. He grabs your hips instinctively. You stop and lightly correct him again. By the time you start at his earlobe again, you can feel his cock throbbing beneath you. You make it past his nipples this time. He lets out the smallest squirm as you kiss his hip bones. He inhales sharply when he realises his mistake, and his fear is so cute that you pretend not to notice the squirm. As you continue your path, he sighs in relief. It doesn’t last long. Your kisses and tongue tease the insides of his thighs. His eyes are squeezed shut as he focuses on not moving. You smile and sit up.
“I think we can call that a check point, yeah?” you ask.
“Stars, please,” he begged. You smile and stand up, telling him not to move an inch as you go to grab your drinks. You allow him to sit up and down his glass as you slowly sip yours. You watch him carefully, drinking in every edge and curve of the man, and he is almost impatient in getting started again.
“Lay back,” you order. He complies immediately, but this time, you kneel between his legs, spreading them with your knees. He watches you, pupils blown.
“Remember the rules,” you warn him with a little smile before placing your first kiss just above his cock. It twitched in response. You smile as you go along, placing kisses all around his cock but not touching it. Your lips trail down the inside of his left thigh, and the first bite makes him gasp and buck. You smile and pull back. He quickly lay still again, and your kisses started at the bottom of his stomach once more. He is more prepared for the bites on his thighs this time, but he still has minor flinches now and again that you conveniently don’t notice.
After he was achingly hard, after you could see the torment on the poor boy’s face, you decide to get to where he needed to be touched the most. Your lips press a kiss to the head of his cock, and he sucks air in through his teeth. He was watching you now, anticipation drumming in his chest with every moment that passes. You gave it an experimental lick, and he doesn’t move. You swirl your tongue around it, and he groans but doesn’t move.
“Very good, cyar’ika,” you praise him with a smile. He smiles back, but it’s strained. He needs a release. You slowly slip his head between your lips, keeping your tongue active on the underside of his cock, and he raises his hands to grab your head. You cock an eyebrow at him, not moving, and he remembers rule #1. He presses the back of a fist to his lips, and the other hand grabs a fistful of your sheets. You smile to yourself and slowly move down his cock a little. He groans and partially moves to sit up before falling back on the bed. He didn’t buck, though, so you knew he remembered the rules well. You decided to have a little fun.
Every time you moved down on his cock, you pulled back up to the tip, going back down to where you were, and you did this three times before going down a little more. He bucked only once, when you were about halfway down his shaft, and he was gasping for breath when you went back to kissing his thighs. He learned quickly, and he did his absolute best to not move his hips beneath you. You finally rewarded him by sliding all the way down his shaft until you were kissing the base of his cock. He cried out in pleasure at the slow way you moved, and you infuriatingly slowly bobbed on his cock.
“Fuck, mesh’la, please.” He was almost sobbing at this point. You smiled wickedly and moved faster. His legs were active, bending and straightening, but he didn’t buck. He didn’t touch you. He didn’t move from his spot. He was being so good. You wrapped your hand around his cock and rubbed him as you pulled off to speak.
“Think you’ll be able to cum with these rules?” you ask.
“Fuck, elek,” he groaned in desperation. You smiled and nodded.
“Good.” Your lips replace your hand, and you attack him with a passion. Your lips squeeze around him, your tongue dancing on the underside, and your throat accepting his length with ease.
“Cyare,” he warned. You tapped twice on his thigh as an okay, and he hissed a moment. You felt his shaft harden, his balls tighten, and he cried out as he came. He did astoundingly well to not buck beneath you. You forgave the small movements he made. You drank his seed down, loving the way the salty splashes took on the fruity flavour of the Phattro. You chose the drink because it was your favourite, but also for it’s fast acting effects on such things. You knew you were going to suck Tech off tonight.
“Cyare, please,” he panted. You raised your eyebrows as you drank more alcohol. Your head was starting to feel muddied and, partnered with your excitement, you were burning hot. You looked back at him, and he was still fully erect. Your eyes widened.
“Fuck, Tech, still? Guess you get your pick then,” you say, curious as to which one he’ll choose. He smiled and quickly knelt, pulling you to him and kissing you deeply. You love the way his taste mingled with the drink. You were left wanting more when he broke the kiss away, and he turned you to face away from him. He pushed down on your upper back, and you smiled as you assumed one of your favourite positions. He lowered you down to rest on your forearms before kissing a line down your spine. You didn’t stop the moan that dragged from your lips. His hands moved underneath you to grope the breasts you denied him from touching, fingers pinching your nipples harshly. You hissed at the mixture of pain and pleasure.
His hands moved to grab your hips, and he didn’t want to wait any longer. One hand guided his cock to your entrance, and you were so ready for him that he sunk in to the hilt with ease. You moaned at the way he filled you, and your eyes rolled back at the feeling. He didn’t have any toys with him today, but you didn’t mind. You always wondered what he would do without them. Now you knew. He started to move slowly at first, teasing you the same way you did him. He dragged out slowly and sunk back in just as slow. It was infuriating, and you were wiggling your hips to demand more.
“Easy, cyare,” he hissed, sensitive still. You took in a deep breath, which was released in a gasp when he thrust into you suddenly very harshly. His grunts of effort accentuated each of his hard thrusts, and you cry out in response. He slips a hand beneath you, and you’re not sure what he’s aiming for since he’s very much missed your clit. But he pushes up on your abdomen, and suddenly you can very much feel him inside of you.
“T-Tech?!” you cry out, and he just chuckles lowly in your ear. He’s now bent over you, his chest pressed against your back, his lips on your ear, as he holds you closely. It’s like you denied him touch, so now all he wants to do is touch you.
“Do you like that?” he asked, but he knew the answer. His fingers press up in a specific spot, and he tilts his hips just slightly to thrust in just right. You’re seeing stars; you can’t find your breath. He chuckles in your ear again.
“I’m not going to hold on much longer, mesh’la. Join me,” he mutters as he licks your earlobe. You nod, eyes squeezing shut as your mouth drops open. He smiles, his own eyes closing, as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His thrusts become more erratic, and you can feel he’s dancing closer and closer to the edge. He presses up on your abdomen, and you are falling off the edge.
His name fumbles on your lips as you see white light. Your body convulses and shakes around his cock, and you haven’t felt such a sweep of warmth through your body before. Your orgasm sends waves of sparks through your veins, all brought on by his cock and a well placed hand. As you squeeze around his cock, Tech gasps and cries out in your ear, and you feel him cum deep inside of you. His thrusts are spastic, and he finally buries himself in deeply. He holds himself there a moment before collapsing on you. You love the weight and heat of his body on yours.
His hands travel up your arms, his fingers tangling with yours, and after he’s caught his breath, his lips are on yours. After a kiss, you look into his eyes and see a relaxed Tech, at ease in your arms… well, on top of you, anyway. He pulls his softening cock out of you and moves to lay beside you.
“I have to go clean up,” you say when he tries to pull you into a hug. He carries you to the ‘fresher, and you’re always amazed at the lithe clone’s strength. He carried you back to bed, as well, and he finally pulled you to him when you turned the lights into sleep mode. He ran his fingers through your hair, stroking the silk strands he loved so much, and he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. You loved it when he spoke Mando’a to you. All of the clones, not just the Batch, usually did after sex, and it became one of your favourite comforts in this universe.
“Thanks for helping me learn tonight,” Tech whispered in your ear. You smiled and pressed a kiss to a spot on his chest in front of your face, moving back to resting your head there. You had a hand stroking his belly as he talked. “I… I appreciate you comforting me.”
“Thanks for the orgasm,” you mutter in reply. He laughed and kissed the top of your head.
“I love you, mesh’la. Sleep well,” he whispered, his Mando’a slurring as he started fading off to sleep.
“I love you, too, Tech. See you in the morning,” you whispered in response and made sure your alarm was set before letting yourself drift off to sleep in his arms.