On a covert mission gone unexpectedly primal, Ahsoka Tano poses as a captive to gather intel, only to be overwhelmed by the raw pheromonal power of her target.
Chapter 2 From captivity to control
The first thing she noticed was the coldness in the air. A slow, steady hiss came from a narrow vent above the bed. It was the kind used to keep sealed rooms breathable, too, even to be natural.
Ahsoka tried to move. But pain answered first. A deep, bruising ache bloomed in her hips and lower back, sharp where it pressed her bones, dull where it throbbed inside. Her throat felt scraped and dry. Her knees refused to bend properly. Her inner thighs stuck together.
Something thick shifted inside her when she moved, then spilled out with a quiet squelch. Her breath caught between her teeth. Not panic. Just assessment.
Her fingers sank into coarse linen. Clean but scratchy, soft only compared to the stone slab she'd passed out on. A bed, real and cruelly comfortable. The room was pale and quiet, lit from above by a single recessed strip. No visible cameras as far as she could see. No corners to hide in. One sealed door. No seams or access panel.
Across from the bed stood a mirror, tall and clean from floor to ceiling. It held her reflection in full.
Ahsoka sat still, every motion a betrayal. The sheet that had half-covered her slipped away completely. She didn't reach for it. Her gaze was fixed on the reflection. Bruises darkened the sides of her hips and the base of her lekku. Sweat had dried against her collarbones. Her breasts rose and fell, nipples still peaked from the cold, but that wasn't what held her attention.
Her thighs were parted slightly. Her pussy, flushed and ruined, still twitched around nothing. A thick, pearled trail of cum slid from the raw gape of her entrance, dragging warmth down to the bed beneath her. Another strand followed after it. She felt it, slick and persistent, leaking without shame. Her body, even now, refused to stop dripping.
She looked away, then didn't. The mirror made that impossible. Whoever placed it there wanted her to see. Not what was done to her. What she was now.
Ahsoka inhaled slowly. The sterile, metal-laced air bit her tongue with something stronger. The musk hit her harder than expected. Spike's scent clung to her skin, her thighs, the bed, the room. It had dried into her pores, into the folds of her body. Her lips parted slightly.
Her stomach turned. Her hands moved on their own.
Fingers slid between her thighs, tentative, then firm. She braced herself against the ache and pushed two fingers inside. Heat met her, immediately followed by wet resistance. The cum inside her shifted, thick and sloshing. She winced as she scooped some out. It dripped against her wrist.
She turned toward the sheet, meaning to wipe it off. But the smell hit her first.
Her fingers hovered just beneath her face. The scent of him and her. Still mingled. Still fresh. Her body responded before her mind could catch up. A throb rolled low through her belly, her clit twitching once in betrayal.
She hesitated. Her eyes locked on her reflection. Her mouth opened.
She sucked her fingers clean.
It wasn't conscious. It was chemical. Her tongue moved slowly, savoring more than it should. Her eyes drifted closed. The taste was metallic, feral, layered. Heat surged to her chest, her nipples tightening again.
Then she stopped.
Her fingers dropped to the bed, slick and trembling. She looked away from the mirror, chest rising too fast, shame clawing up her throat like smoke. She curled slightly forward, arms resting on her knees, teeth gritted.
You're alive. You're still on the mission.
She repeated it like a mantra.
Slowly, she stood. Her knees threatened to give, but she forced herself upright. The cum still leaking from her holes trailed wetly down her inner thighs, sticky where it cooled. She let it fall. Let it stain the tile. Every step forward was earned.
She pressed a hand to the smooth wall. No handles. No sound beyond the vent's breath.
Then back to the mirror.
She stared at the girl within it. Not the commander. Not the ghost of the Order. Just the body. The scent-slicked, aching, open thing he'd left here.
Her own voice rasped from a cracked throat.
"I am not broken." A pause. "Not yet."
The hiss of the air system answered.
She turned toward it, narrowing her eyes at the vent above. Her mind had begun the work again, calculating angles, air flow, and climb distance. Her fingers twitched at her side, already counting how many seconds she'd need to pull herself through.
The vent's airflow was in a simple pattern. Four seconds in, six seconds out. Ahsoka counted it like a pulse, grounding herself against the ache that lived in every joint. She stood beneath it now, bare feet planted on the cold tile, cum still leaking in slow, shameful rivulets down her inner thighs. The mirror reflected her from behind: bruises darkening along her hips, lekku hanging heavy, the slick shine of her ruined pussy catching the recessed light like oil on water.
She didn't look back at it.
Her fingers found the loose screw in the grate. One dangled already. The other three held tight. She pressed her thumb against the metal, testing torque, gauging what she could loosen without alerting sensors. The airflow kissed her skin, cool and mechanical, carrying the faint metallic tang of recycled oxygen. She could fit. Shoulders first. Dislocate one if she had to. The duct curved upward. Maintenance access, maybe. Generator room. Then out.
Her story slotted into place with the sharp clarity of a knife being sheathed.
She was a smuggler from Ryloth, caught with spice in the wrong hold. Captured en route. She'd offered intel in exchange for clemency. Enough truth to hold weight. Enough lies to measure the depth of the situation she was in.
Last time, she had already given Spike the bait. A false contact on Coruscant. Partial cargo routes. Enough to sound desperate but plausible. Now she needed two more hooks to set the test.
The buyer's name would be Korr Vexx, a ghost in the archives, just credible enough to raise suspicion. The drop point would be Grid Seven Alpha, Nar Shaddaa depot, sub-level three. A fabrication worth looking into, whatever this group was.
If he showed interest, she'd know who he worked for. If he didn't, she'd at least have the idea how deep the net ran.
She was prying at the second screw when the door opened without a sound.
A naked and unashamed Shistavanen stepped inside. His cock hung half-hard, already beginning to swell, swaying slightly with each stride. The cursed musk reached her first. Richer and stronger than last time. Like he had rubbed himself raw before walking in. Her body responded before her mind did. A fresh pulse of wetness pushed out of her. It mixed with the old, sliding down her inner thigh in a thick, obscene trail. Her cunt pulsed as if it recognized him before her mind had decided to.
He didn't speak. He looked at her. Her posture was upright, chin high, back straight, muscles trembling from the effort to stand. His yellow eyes flicked to the mirror behind her, scanned the curve of her back, the dripping cunt, the parted legs. Then he met her eyes again.
"Morning, little spy," he said, voice rough as ground stone. "Sleep well?"
Ahsoka didn't answer. She didn't shift or cower. She stood still, shoulders locked, every muscle screaming. The ache between her legs had a pulse now. Slow. Hot. Hungry. But she kept her chin up and met his gaze without blinking.
Spike stepped closer. The door sealed behind him with a soft click.
"You begged so pretty last night," he said, voice low and slow. "Remember? 'Mmh… please…' Then louder. 'Ahh… yes… deeper…' And when I filled you last time..." He leaned in just enough for the words to rake across her skin. "'Please… I want to feel full again.'"
He paused. His eyes searched her face.
"Even after I cleaned you, when you could barely speak, you still whispered, 'Clean me… please… I can't…'"
The words hung in the air like smoke. Her jaw tightened. She said nothing.
"Now," he continued, circling her with measured steps, "you're going to confirm yesterday's intel. The buyer. The depot. Precise details. Say them right, and maybe I'll let you stand on your own when it's over."
He stopped behind her.
"Say anything different, and I'll remind your body how it feels to be bred."
Her voice came out cold. "You already did."
His muzzle twitched. The sound he made might have been amusement. It might have been a warning. "That," he said, stepping closer, "was just the first dose."
He moved fast. One moment, he was three paces away; the next, his hand was around her throat, claws pricking lightly into her skin as he backed her toward the mirror. She wasn't able to resist. Her feet slid across the floor until the cold glass touched her shoulders.
Then he turned her, pressing his body flush to her spine. His cock, hot and fully hard, throbbed against the curve of her bare back, dragging a slick, wet streak across her back with each breath he took.
"Look at yourself," he said, voice low beside her ear. "Look at what you've become in just one night."
Ahsoka stared into her own eyes. She didn't look down at the tremble in her thighs or the way her nipples stood stiff and eager, exposed to the air and his gaze both. She tried to focus on the vent cycle instead. Four seconds in. Six seconds out. Counting was the only thing that kept her from unraveling. Because even as she resisted, her body leaned into the inevitability like it had been waiting.
Spike's hands slid up along her ribs, slow and certain, until they found her breasts. He cupped them fully, letting the weight settle into his palms, fingers spreading to claim every inch. Her skin was hot and slick beneath his touch, the flush rising off her body mixing with the trapped heat between them. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, once, then again, drawing tight circles before pinching, firm and controlled, like he already knew exactly how much she could take.
Ahsoka bit down hard. The moan escaped anyway.
"These are already changing," he murmured, voice rough with certainty. He twisted the peaks again, slowly with more pressure. "With enough cum inside your womb. Soon these tits will swell. They'll ache for constant release. They'll leak milk. Your body has already accepted its new role."
His words weren't threats. They were facts. And they landed deep. Her nipples throbbed, painfully stiff now, the nerves behind them sparking with each drag of his fingers. The weight of his cock smeared against her spine with each throb, leaking steady warmth that clung to her skin in wet trails. The musk rolling off his body grew heavier, more concentrated. Her lungs drew it in with every breath, coating the inside of her throat, sinking into her gut like a drug.
She tried to hold still. She failed. Her chest lifted into his hands before she could stop it. Her reflection showed everything. Breasts full and flushed, nipples red and swollen, her mouth parted in shallow gasps, the blush crawling down her neck to the center of her chest. He squeezed again, thumbs circling, then pinched harder. Her hips jolted. A fresh gush of slick ran down her thighs, visible in the mirror as a glistening trail. Her hands twitched in the restraints, but she didn't try to pull away.
Spike lowered his muzzle to the side of her neck and inhaled.
"Why the defiance?" he asked, voice lower now, fingers brushing along the edges of her heat without sinking in. "Why fight it? You don't need to pretend anymore. You're dripping. You're enjoying this."
He twisted her nipples at the same time he pressed his cock tighter against her back, the thick shaft rutting into her skin in slow, grinding drags. The heat built fast. Under her skin, between her legs, behind her eyes. Her body answered before she could deny it. Her thighs trembled once, then opened wider on instinct. Her clit pulsed with each drag of his breath, each flick of his thumbs. Her nipples felt raw now, pleasure knotted into ache.
The memory of his cum inside her, still warm, still leaking, rushed to the surface like flame to dry leaves.
She broke. The orgasm hit without rhythm or warning, as if her body had simply reached the limit of denial. Her walls clenched tight around nothing. Her belly pulled taut. Her cum gushed freely, sliding in long, glimmering strands down her thighs.
She moaned helplessly as shame crept higher.
"Mmh... ahh..."
Her knees buckled. Her body shuddered. Her back arched into his grip, breasts pushed up into his palms as if begging for more. The mirror caught the moment fully. Ahsoka, slack-jawed and glazed,was held upright by the man using her scent like a roadmap.
She hadn't even caught her breath when he shifted her weight again, adjusting her like a doll.
He lifted her by the shoulder and the inner thigh, tilting her until her hips tipped back. His cock traced the hollow of her spine, then settled at the crease of her soaked folds, resting there like a promise. He did not push. He only rubbed, slow and deliberate, the head of him dragging across her camel toe, smearing pre into the slick that clung to her.
Ahsoka swallowed and made a small sound. Behind her, Spike's hands were steady, patient. His thumb ghosted across the most sensitive ridge, then pulled away, punishing and careful.
"Feel how eager your womb is," he said, voice low. His breath feathered the back of her neck. "You hate seeing it, don't you? And yet your body loves every second."
She answered with a broken whisper. "I—" Her voice cut off as his fingers shifted, mapping her, making her tremble. He dipped his mouth to a lekku and tasted skin there, slow licks that threaded heat through her nerves.
The reaction came without warning. Pressure built in a place she could not name, and a warm rush spilled free, splattering across his shaft and down her thighs. She clamped her eyes shut, cheeks burning, both mortified and undone by how her body betrayed her.
Spike hummed against her lekku, pleased. "There. That's perfect," he murmured. "You make such beautiful messes."
She stared at herself in the mirror, dripping and raw, and hated how much the reflection aroused her. Her knees shook, but he held her upright with an easy grip.
He angled his cock so the swollen tip sat at her opening, the head brushing wetly against her slick. He paused, letting the moment stretch into something sharp and lucid.
"Tell me. Do you still hope that you'll escape?" he asked, steady and blunt.
Before Ahsoka could reply, he moved. In one smooth, brutal motion, his hands slid from her breast and inner thigh to hook beneath her knees and shoulder. Her back peeled from his chest at once. He lifted her easily, decisively, straightening to full height as her body rose with him. Her thighs parted wide in his grip, knees drawn up and outward, her slick cunt tilted skyward and fully exposed.
A thick ribbon of cum, loosened by the motion, slid from her still-gaping entrance and hit the stone-cold floor with a wet, lewd splatter of shame.
He adjusted his footing slightly, keeping their bodies visible in the mirror. Ahsoka hung in his arms, suspended like a mock offering. Her back pressed fully against his chest. His arms locked beneath the bends of her knees, supporting her weight with practiced ease. Her reflection trembled in the glass, face flushed, legs parted, lips swollen and wet, as if they already knew what was coming.
Spike's cock jutted upward between her thighs, dark and flushed, the ridged tip nestled tight against her soaked folds.
The merciless, slow grind began. A standing carry-fuck without penetration. He rolled his hips forward in a steady rhythm, dragging the underside of his shaft against her clit. Each pass parted her lips, smearing pre-cum and her own spent slick across his cock until it glistened like oil in the overhead light. The angle was obscene and perfect. Her body sagged slightly in his arms, but gravity pinned her slit to his cock with every grind, making the friction wetter, hotter.
Ahsoka's breath fractured. Her hands clutched at his shoulders behind her, fingers curling hard into his fur. In the mirror, she saw the tremble in her thighs. The tilt of her cunt. The raw flush in her cheeks and the way her nipples still stood stiff. Her hips jerked against the motion even as her jaw stayed locked.
Every drag left another glistening trail across his cock.
Spike's growl came low against her lekku. "Look."
He shifted her higher in his arms until her gaze aligned perfectly with the mirror. Her reflection trembled in the glass, face flushed, lips parted, eyes already dazed. Her cunt, wet and open, hovered just above the cock that refused to enter it.
"Why are you looking away?" he said. "Watch what happens every time I grind against you."
He rolled his hips again. The underside of his cock dragged along her folds, thick and wet. The tip caught at her entrance for a breathless instant, and she rocked down, trying to take him in.
He pulled back just enough to deny her.
Her legs jerked slightly in his grip.
"You feel that?" he murmured against her ear. "You're trying to take it. Every time I press in, your hips chase me. Every time I stop, you twitch like you're starving."
Another slow grind. His ridged head cock dragged against her clit, hot and slick. Her inner walls fluttered around nothing.
"You want it so badly your body moves without you," he said. "Even now, you're trying to line yourself up. Like you can fool me into giving it to you."
She gasped. Her legs tightened, but not in refusal. Her cunt throbbed visibly in the glass.
"Your body is not resisting," Spike said quietly. "You're begging."
He continued the grinding again, slow and punishing. The tip of his cock kissed her entrance, then slid up without entering. Her hips jolted in the air. Her hands twitched on his shoulders. Her breath became faster
Her clit throbbed against his shaft. The rhythm quickened. The slick friction of each motion grew louder in the room, echoing with every stroke.
"You're marked," he rasped. "My seed was inside you for an entire night. Still leaking and staining the cell you wanted to crawl out of."
He adjusted his hips, grinding upward in a tighter motion. The next pass struck her clit dead-on.
"Your body knows what it belongs to. Even if your mind lies."
Ahsoka's moan cracked open. Her hips bucked into the movement, desperate for more. The mirror caught her face: slack, mouth open, eyes unfocused. Her inner walls clenched around nothing. Another gush of slick coated his cock in a fresh stripe of shine.
She was seconds away from cumming. At that exact moment, Spike stopped.
The grind halted mid-stroke. His cock remained pressed to her folds, hot and twitching, but motionless. The denial hit like a crack of ice. Her hips jerked forward on instinct, chasing it, but his grip didn't budge. Her thighs trembled in the air, locked across his arms, fully exposed.
He leaned in close again, muzzle brushing the base of her lekku. "Still waiting for someone to save you?" he murmured.
She didn't answer. Her chest rose too fast. Her fingers twitched on his shoulders.
His voice hardened, low and direct. "Who do you think sold you in the first place?"
Ahsoka blinked, stunned still. His breath warmed her ear.
"This mission was a lie. A smuggler's route? A fake buyer? That whole story was written very carefully for you. It was very expensive."
Her lips parted, but no sound came.
"You were sold, Tano. Sold as a breeding tool." His muzzle nuzzled behind her ear, the tone almost soothing now. "A Force-sensitive cunt, athletic, fertile, already trained to obey commands. You're worth more than most colonies."
He pressed forward again, dragging the underside of his cock against her soaked folds. Still no penetration, just pressure.
"I had to pay a lot for you. I hope you're ready to show your credits' worth."
"You're going to pop out enough pups to pay back every credit. So take a breath. You'll be pleasured for a very long time."
He leaned in, muzzle brushing her head, voice soft as a blade. His hips twitched once, cruel and precise, just enough to nudge her clit. "From now on, you will cum only when I am inside you. Never again without my cock."
The mirror didn't offer comfort. It exposed her. Legs spread, pussy glistening and empty. Clit swollen from denial. A slow drip of cum traced down her inner thigh and fell to the tile in a wet, obscene trail.
Ahsoka's fingers curled into his fur. Her nails bit into his shoulders, drawing blood. Her body shook from anger and the orgasm he refused to let her have. Her thighs trembled against his arms, helpless to hide it.
She could see the truth reflected back at her. Her own body suspended in the air and held open. Spike behind her, staring at the mirror with a hungry, satisfied grin.
She finally understood what the mirror had been forcing her to see. Who the predator was and who the prey had become.
His cock throbbed once against her clit, and all her thoughts of escape evaporated.
The moment stretched into three slow heartbeats. Her breath staggered as she anticipated the penetration.
Spike adjusted his grip, sliding his right arm from beneath her knee and hooking it under both thighs instead, lifting her higher. Her hips tilted backward. Her ass angled toward his pelvis. Her pussy rose just above the thick shaft that had been grinding into her moments ago. The shift exposed her entirely, folds glistening, rim of her anus flexing with each trembling breath.
His left hand slid down, fingers coated with the mix of slick and seed that still clung to her thighs. He pressed them against her back entrance without warning.
Ahsoka flinched. "No—" It broke from her throat, thin and raw, more realization than refusal.
"You belong to me," he said, his voice calm and absolute. "I will make this hole addicted as well."
His cock, slick with her arousal and his pre, shifted lower. The blunt, ridged head nestled between her cheeks and pressed against the tight entrance.
The first inch breached her.
Ahsoka cried out, high and cracked. The stretch was brutal. Her rim burned, pulled far wider than it remembered. She clawed his shoulders without thinking, her nails tearing into fur and flesh until blood rose beneath her fingertips. The mirror captured all of it. His thick shaft forcing its way inside, her cunt above it clenching and dripping, untouched but throbbing with sympathetic need.
He stopped, but it wasn't mercy. Savoring her pain for every second he could. Then he pushed again.
Another inch disappeared. Her body twitched around it. Her walls tried to resist, nerves firing like blaster sparks. The pain gave way to pressure pressing into her spine, blooming through her hips, pulsing at her clit.
He pulled back slightly. Just enough to reset the angle. Then pushed again.
The obscene rhythm of pain and pleasure began. Each thrust drove deeper. Each stroke forced more of him inside. Her moans twisted, climbing from raw discomfort to something darker. Her hips began to twitch, bucking with each slow push. Her body no longer denied it. Her body chased it.
When she came, it hit hard.
Her ass clenched down, walls spasming around the thick intrusion. A fresh gush of slick poured from her cunt, coating the mirror. Her scream cracked the stillness, echoing in the sterile air of the cell. Her reflection shook in the mirror, eyes rolled back, tongue lolling with drool, her body drenched in sweat.
Spike didn't stop because she was cumming. He drove through the clench, deeper, dragging the swollen knot to her rim. Nearly apple-sized now. The stretch made her spine bow, lips part, and a choked sound caught behind her teeth. Her second climax slammed through her before the first could finish uncoiling. A tremor rolled through her, her thighs kicking reflexively in his hold, calves tensing against his forearms. Her hips lurched forward as another sharp squirt lashed across the mirror.
Then he pushed harder as the knot breached.
The burn shattered her composure. She screamed as her mouth dropped open and her eyes rolled half-white as the seal locked. The pressure snapped inward. Her body spasmed. Her ass clenched around the thickest part of him, trapped and full. Spike growled above her, low and primal as he came.
The first jet was thick and scalding. It hit deep. Ahsoka's whole frame jerked as it pulsed against her walls. Her bowels flooded. The pressure mounted at once. Her lower belly began to swell visibly, just beneath her navel, and in the mirror the curve rose with each new pulse.
Her third orgasm didn't sound at all. Her entire body arched, seized, then collapsed into spasms. Her pussy clenched helplessly around emptiness, aching for contact. Slick fountained out in small, rhythmic bursts, splashing her thighs and the floor below. She drooled without realizing. Her cheek smeared a wet trail down the mirror, lashes fluttering.
Spike's knot throbbed inside her, locked and unmovable. He held her there. Impaled, trembling, and legs wide. His forearms braced under her thighs, cock angled steep, balls heavy against her. Her belly was bloated with his seed.
He leaned close. His breath warmed her cheek, voice soft and certain.
"These were warm-ups," he said.
Ahsoka blinked, her mouth slack. Her reflection stared back at her, ruined. Her brow twitched like she didn't understand him.
He cupped the gentle swell of her stomach with one wide hand and pressed, firm enough to make her choke on a breath. Another spurt answered, thick and warm, and the curve in the mirror swelled a little more.
"To stretch you," he continued, "to teach your body my size. Tomorrow, the true breeding starts. Every day till you beg for it. Until you are..."
His words rewired the tension in her core. Her pussy fluttered involuntarily. Her chest heaved.
Her gaze fell to the reflection again. Rounded belly. Knot sealing her gaping hole. Her own slick still clinging to her cunt, drooling with need.
Spike's muzzle brushed the base of her lekku. The contact made her thighs twitch.
"I hope you have no illusions of escape."
He shifted his hips. The knot tugged. She cried out again, breathless, a spark of aftershock slicing through her spine like a bolt.
"Escape was never an option."
...
Thank you for reading.
An omake for this chapter is available exclusively on Patre*n and K*-fi for interested readers. Another omake is currently in progress. All of this is part of a Ren'Py game you might get to play someday