Thorn

Darth Gunn

Rating:       NC-17 (Rape, language)
Warning:   This essentially describes a rape. Rape is an act of violence and I do not condone it in any way. My disbelief was well and truly suspended for the writing of this story and any action therein should remain fantasy.
Disclaimer: You know I can't harm you so don't come after me. I just borrowed your character and seek only to entertain, not to make my fortune.
Summary:  Maul returns to his woman, at Coruscant.
Feedback:  Darth Gunn@yahoo.com
Initial posting: On dmeb1.

Thorn.

I had the dream again last night. The girl was the same; her touch was the same. Always, the same... the sensations engulf me. I cannot control them. Such ecstasy, such joy, such a delicious explosion in my loins - but no control.

Her hand slips beneath my robe and her coolness meets my hot skin; then my resolve is lost. I awaken, bathed in sweat: seed, soaking the sheets...and I am afraid.

Of what use is my training, now? I am a warrior, nearing the end of my apprenticeship. I have the dark force at my fingertips; my body for a weapon. I can control pain - my own and that of others. I instill fear and can master it, but not this.

My master will sanctify my union with a woman today. He has decreed it; has chosen her for me, but I have no need of, nor do I want a wife. However, my Lord Sidious knows what is best for me and for our order. I wonder what she looks like. No matter.

I will have to consummate this union, today. It will be the first time I have touched or been touched by a woman. I am afraid. It is absurd, but I am afraid. My mouth dries at the prospect of failing in my master's eyes, but he has taught me nothing; has told me, nothing. How can I complete the act if I release at the merest touch? Lord Sidious will not be pleased.

Will she lie still and permit me to touch her or should I be driven to use force? Shall I recline and let her take me? My master has told me nothing. I have watched beasts in the wilderness: rutting beasts, snorting and snarling. I have seen whores in the taverns - their hands moving over their clients, legs clasped around their waists as they fuck them against the walls. Where is the dignity, the ritual in that? What need have I of a wife?

I bathe and dress in readiness but I am unable to eat for my gut is knotted with the anticipation of battle, though the prospect of today's proceedings is less appealing. I drink to moisten my lips and set out to meet my master at the appointed place.

The stone room is appropriately darkened and is adorned with our few revered icons of the Sith. My master's words soothe me and I become calm. I smell the cold, stone floor and feel the dampness of the air: hear the evenness of my master's measured breaths. I feel strong again - at one with the darkness.

The woman enters, at my master's command and at once, I taste her fear. Already, my appetite is whetted. Through my hood, I observe her approach on weakened legs. She shakes, visibly and is chilled by my master's very presence. I see there is much I have to learn from him yet.

She stands before me and I hear her sticky mouth as she struggles to swallow. She is small. Why did I fear her? She is physically weak; sick from fear yet I am ecstatic with it. I remove my hood and watch the final remnants of her courage crumble to dust. I seize her arm lest she should collapse to her knees, and I feel the small heart pounding within her breast. She knows that I hold the power of life and death over her and the thrill of her knowing courses through me, but I must concentrate on my master's words. They reach me; touch me; elate me.

I repeat the ancient mantra and the power of the dark side is mine. It feeds me as I put the mark of the Sith upon her and celebrate her pain. Her fingers are marked with the red and the black. Her eyes accuse me. Her mind hates me. Her body loathes me.

My eyes devour her form. Her skin is flawless and her abundant hair tumbles about her face. I don't know if this is a beautiful face. What do I know of beauty? All I know is that I ache to take her. My cock strains against the holster, which would protect me in combat. If I touch her, will I succumb at once as I did in sleep? Will my master be angry?

Lord Sidious orders me to take her. My heartbeat matches hers. I turn to my master but he is leaving. The ritual of consecration is over and I must make her mine.

Her tears are dripping into the grime but I feel no pity; no mercy; only hunger. With a gesture from my hand, the force catches her and sends her to the floor, but her scream only serves to fuel my resolve. I demonstrate the power of the dark side by summoning the stone table, which served as our altar. It can now be her rack; her support.

I haul her upon it and she quivers with anticipation as I tower over her. I notice, again, how small she is and wonder how much pain I will give her when I pierce her but she looks up at my face and she knows. She knows that she is my first. The fury rises within me. Bitch! I strike her face and hold her gaze away from me. I will not have this woman's eyes upon me.

Being inside her is a relief. My ardour is intact. I have not weakened. She is slick, but tight and I can do nothing save to follow my instincts. I am the rutting beast who sires his brood in the wilderness; snarling and hissing. Indeed, there is no ritual; no dignity. It is little wonder my master chose to leave.

However...it feels warm and joyous to be fucking her. She is lost to me as I near my release. Her pain is the merest glimmer in the depths of my ecstasy. I will not cry out - though I long to howl; to rage against this sensation. it is too far removed from pain to be of any consequence. A useless, delicious spasm.

She lies on the floor, crumpled and trembling, but she is relieved to be apart from me. She is mine. She knows she is mine and she is desolate.

I, however, am celebrating a victory - over my fear; over myself.

END

Darth Maul

By Darth Gunn