Warning: The former story involve sexual abuse, violence and rape. It is a story of fiction and nothing else. The author of this story does not advocate the use of violence to satisfy one's sexual lust at the expense of some else. If you do not understand the difference between fiction and reality, read no further. If you dislike stories that involve gang rape, read no further.

If you always felt that Padmé has always been oversexualized in fanfic and would like to read a story where she is exactly as she was portrayed by actress Natalie Portman when Attack Of The Clones was filmed back in 2000 (when Natalie was 19), then you might enjoy this fanfiction story. Needless to say, all characters involved in sexual activity in the following story are over 18 years old (Earth years).

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A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

Ten years after the battle at Naboo, the Galactic Republic is threatened by a Separatist movement organized by former Jedi Master Count Dooku. Senator Padmé Amidala comes to Coruscant to vote on a motion to create an army to assist the Jedi against the threat. Narrowly avoiding an assassination attempt upon her arrival, she is placed under the protection of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice Anakin Skywalker. The pair thwart a second attempt on Padmé's life and subdue the assassin, Zam Wesell, who is killed by her employer, a bounty hunter, before she can reveal his identity. The Jedi Council instructs Obi-Wan to find the bounty hunter, while Anakin is tasked to protect Padmé and escort her back to Naboo, where the two fall in love in spite of the Jedi Code that forbids attachments.

Obi-Wan's search leads him to the mysterious ocean planet of Kamino, where he discovers an army of clones being produced for the Republic under the name of Sifo-Dyas, a deceased Jedi Master, with bounty hunter Jango Fett serving as their genetic template. Obi-Wan deduces Jango to be the bounty hunter he is seeking, and after a brief battle, places a homing beacon on Jango's ship, Slave I. He then follows Jango and his clone son, Boba, to the planet Geonosis. Meanwhile, Anakin is troubled by visions of his mother, Shmi, in pain and decides to return to his homeworld of Tatooine with Padmé to save her. Watto reveals that he sold Shmi to moisture farmer Cliegg Lars, who then freed and married her. Cliegg tells Anakin that she was abducted by Tusken Raiders one month earlier and is likely dead. Determined to find his mother, Anakin ventures out and finds her at the Tusken campsite, barely alive. After she dies in his arms, an enraged Anakin massacres the entire tribe. He later confesses his actions to Padmé and vows that he will find a way to prevent the deaths of those he loves.

On Geonosis, Obi-Wan discovers a Separatist gathering led by Count Dooku, who is developing a droid army with Trade Federation Viceroy Nute Gunray and ordered the attempts on Padmé's life. Obi-Wan transmits his findings to the Jedi Council but is captured by Separatist droids. Dooku meets Obi-Wan in his cell and explains his role in the Confederacy of Independent Systems' formation, while implying that the Sith Lord Darth Sidious is in control of a large portion of the Galactic Senate. He then invites Obi-Wan to join him and stop Sidious. When Obi-Wan refuses, Dooku claims that Obi-Wan's late master and Dooku's former apprentice Qui-Gon Jinn would have, had he been alive. Meanwhile, Senate Representative Jar Jar Binks proposes a successful vote to grant emergency powers to Chancellor Palpatine, allowing the clone army to be authorized.

Anakin and Padmé head to Geonosis to rescue Obi-Wan, but Anakin loses his lightsaber in the Geonosian droid factory before being captured by Jango. In an arena, Dooku sentences the trio to death at the hands of three fierce beasts --- the Reek, the Nexu and the Acklay.
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While Anakin and Obi-Wan Kenobi are fighting for their lives against the gigantic predators, while Padmé has managed to climb on the tall column, she gets picked up and flown to safety by a group of flying droids, who bring her to a ship secreted by Count Dooku, who had felt the coming of Mace Windu and his Jedi knights.

"Where's Padmé?!" Anakin cries. Both Jedi's powers are too busy fighting the beasts to ponder the question; she is nowhere to be seen; they sense her being carried away somewhere and she is not in direct danger. They soon manage to kill all three beasts using their Jedi powers, and by this time, they are saved by a cohort of Jedis led by Yoda and Mace Windu; Jango Fett gets beheaded by Windu during the ensuing battle.

After a rocky chase, Obi-Wan and Anakin intercept Dooku, and they engage in a lightsaber duel. They are no match for Dooku, who injures Obi-Wan with very accurate saber blows that won't kill nor maim him; he then severs Anakin's right forearm, beginning the boy's journey to the Dark Side, but Yoda intercepts him and defends them.

In spite of his very small size, Yoda frustrates Count Dooku in their dazzling-fast lightsaber duel. In order to safely retreat, Count Dooku uses the Force in an attempt to kill Anakin and Obi-Wan, knowing that Yoda will use the Force to save them by preventing the tons of boulders from falling on them as they both lay helpless on the ground.

Dooku escapes to his hidden ship, which is fitted with an extremely sophisticated cloak that allows him to avoid detection until he enters hyperspace, bound for his destination.

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Count Dooku smiles. He is safe for the time being. He is supposed to go to Coruscant, where Emperor Palpatine is waiting for him, but he decides to deviate his course and go to a solar system on the far edge of the galaxy --- Tatooine, the desert planet.


He was now looking forward to executing the new, unforeseen element of his master plan. There was improvisation in this, but it would be a surefire way to stir hatred in Anakin and make him fall to the Dark Side. As a bonus, Count Dooku was getting some alone-time with Padmé.

The idea had come to him as his eyes fell on Padmé's teenage-like figure during the mock trial. There was no way he was going to allow the execution of such a gorgeous girl. He remembered her from when she was Queen Amidala of Naboo. Ten years later, Padmé looked just as radiantly beautiful as she did back then. Years had passed without making her visually older than by a year or two.

As a Jedi, Count Dooku sensed the subtle differences between 17-year-old Amidala and 27-year-old Padmé. In these subtleties lay the unfathomable abyss of humanity that separated the Queen from Padmé, the girl who would eventually end up old and wrinkled, but that would still wait a very long time.

While the pilot and copilot of his secret ship manned the course with the required computations, Count Dooku rose from the Captain's seat and walked into the ship's main passengers room, where Padmé was kept, handcuffed and chained with her feet together. She sat between the four flying droids standing a motionless watch. An R2-series astromech droid stood nearby with its squat form and its round head; unlike R2-D2, this droid had fire-red stripes on a shiny silver structure.

"Hello, Padmé! I think we can take these off now..." Count Dooku casually said, smiling at the young woman. With a hand gesture, he used the Force to free her from the handcuffs and the chains.

She immediately surged from the seat and rushed at him; she tried to punch and kick him using her advanced self-defence training, but the Count laughed and mocked her as he easily dodged and kept himself safe from what was to him a series of pathetic and highly predictable attacks.

His tall, sleek figure danced around her as he kept escaping her blows, while Padmé, wearing the same dark-beige, sleeveless suit she wore on Geonosis, offered a sharp contrast agaist the blackness of his clothes; the sandy colours of her outfits and the lovely contours of her figure made one think of the eternal battle between night and day, between old age and youthful life. Yet, the yellowish light brown of her outfit did offer some similarity with his brown cape.

He let her tire herself out. In a way analog to how old age always ends up taking its toll, the young woman began panting with the shapes of her perky breasts offering an inviting sight as they were rhythmically pushed out of her chest in sober curves; most women had rather small breasts and the Queen of Naboo was always selected accordingly, so most women could see a bit of themselves in her.

Padmé wore a pair of leather straps that met like an X in the front of her torso; these straps accentuated the delicate, yet full shapes of her breasts.

Count Dooku contemplated the slenderness of her figure. She stood 5 feet 3, which he felt was a lovely height for a woman. Her dark hair was perfectly styled in one long braid that rested on her left shoulder. Its warm threads of dark brown beautifully accentuated the rich complexion of her peachy face.

She panted, exhausted, and looked at him, her brown eyes sparkling with hate and fright under the perfect lines of her eyebrows. The straightness of her nose would be just as delicate under his touch as the rest of her soft features, which he knew would be echoed down her legs and further down to her lovely feet, which he was about to discover.

From the very moment he had first seen her, Count Dooku wanted to undress Padmé and enjoy her beauty from the darkness of her hair right to the tip of her toes. He loved, worshipped a girl's feet and he knew that Padmé's would be life-altering to touch and kiss. He felt a strong erection under his dark Jedi robes.

Padmé felt his intense lust and realized she was alone with him, in a ship that was flying between two solar systems. No one was going to rescue her.

"Noo!" she shouted with defiance in her voice as she viciously rushed at him and threw a fast flurry of punches and kicks that would have vanquished 99.99% of humans, but not a Jedi and certainly not Count Dooku, whose laughing face, white beard and all, kept eluding her angry kicks and punches.

"All right! Vigils, hold her!" Dooku barked to the flying droids, who instantly came alive as their master pronounced the code word "Vigil".

Padmé was now utterly out of breath and felt the mechanical, cold strength of the droids seize and restrain her wrists and ankles. She was facing her tall enemy and saw his eyes looking down at her chest. She sensed the lust in him. She knew instinctively that he was going to rape her right here, right now... And there was nothing she could do about it...

"No! You have no right to do this!"

She was too proud to beg, but she still appealed to his sense of morals. Maybe there was some good left in him.

The tall Jedi now stood with his chest inches from hers; he stood a foot taller and completely dominated her. With his silver hair and beard, he looked like he was in his sixties, but she knew for a fact that he was at least 80 years old.

He did something she didn't expect. He gently caressed the side of her face and stroked her hair.

"The Jedi Masters of the Council have it all wrong when they say a Jedi must not have attachments, that a Jedi must not have ties of love. I remember Qi-Gon-Jin, once my apprentice; he fell in love with a beautiful young woman, a young Jedi apprentice like him. I myself loved, my dear, and you remind me of her..."

"Get your hands off me, you creep!" Padmé eventually replied and she spat on his face, but the old man was unphased. He kept stroking her hair.

Then, he gently rested his other hand on her opposite cheek and he kissed her without warning. As he recoiled after the prolonged forced kiss, he saw her brown eyes ablaze with fury.

She spat on his face again.

"Get off me! Get off me, you creep... You, dirty old... m, man!" she cried as she vainly tried to wrestle free from the droids and their grip of unwavering steel.

Padmé began sobbing as she saw Count Dooku taking off his cape, then he began to remove his Jedi's black suit. Near the door to the pilot cockpit, she spotted two tall men who stood at attention in brown uniforms. It was clear that they were not here to help her, and even if they had tried to, Count Dooku would have killed them in seconds.

"Yes, my pretty," he said, smiling, "these two men would get killed for my sake. And you, my dear, and the treasures of your body will be a reward for their loyalty, after I'm done, of course!"

Padmé's sobs and cries grew louder and a lot more intense as it dawned on her that she was not just going to be raped by Count Dooku. These two men were going to have her as well. Two nondescript men who were merely pilots and mercenaries, with her, the former teenage Queen of planet Naboo... She felt grossed out, yet secretly aroused by the prospect. She had refrained her sexual self so long before, at last, giving her virginity to Anakin during their short time together on Naboo; "It's about time! At last!" the 27-year-old woman had thought as she was under Anakin and getting pounded. She had remained a teenage virgin for most of her twenties.

A deeply hidden part within her felt curious to know different men and the different shapes, sizes and feel of their cocks.

Count Dooku proved to be surprisingly handsome in the nude. Time had difficulty with diminishing the manly muscles of seasoned Jedi knights, who eventually grew old, but it took an inordinate amount of decades. Some human Jedis lived to be 150 if not 200.

Padmé's jaw dropped when she saw Dooku's pale and fleshy erection sticking out of his white-haired pelvis. She knew there was going to be quite a big load of semen coming out of his balls; that pair of balls hung, heavy and ominous between his legs as he smiled at her and came near her.

VVVZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ...

The sound and the Zooming wind of red heat hit her ears and tingled the sensitive skin between her breasts as she realized what just happened.

Count Doku, his red lightsaber in his right hand, had just flown his weapon from the ground where it was resting on his discarded belt and into his hand, then slashed at the front of her outfit very accurately and neatly cut the bands of leather along with the dark-beige fabric of her sleeveless tunic, which was now partly torn from top to near her waist. He had done all of this in a heartbeat!

He dropped his turned-off lightsaber and grabbed her damaged tunic, then ripped it wide open with a grunt of joy, filling his ears with the sounds of tearing fabric as he uncovered the pristine, delicate orbs of her breasts that were now only covered by the white cups of the fancy bra she was wearing for Anakin, who was not there to witness this unthinkable scene.

"R2-S7! Begin the Cuckold Recording!" Dooku ordered the R2 droid with his loud voice of command.

The code words "Cuckold Recording" activated the droid, who began recording a 3-D film in holograms that would show everything that was going to happen from that point on; everything right down to its tiny-pixel details.

Count Dooku uttered an unbelievable grunt of fulfilled desire and with crazy eyes he grabbed and destroyed Padmé's bra as she yelped with surprised fury mixed with weird notes of involuntary arousal; she had no idea that so noble a Jedi was capable of becoming so animalistic all at once. Could he be a stud? Would he do his utmost to pleasure her? She had heard that old men could give amazing amounts of pleasure to a woman, and they knew how.

The room fell silent, broken only by Padmé's intense panting. Dooku smiled; she was already aroused. Seducing her wasn't going to be too complicated after all. These young women were so predictable! But ohh, she was gorgeous!

His eyes filled with disbelief and his mind immensely enjoying the unreal aspect of the scene, Count Dooku contemplated Padmé's bare breasts that offered a teenage-like show of paleness and subtle shadows under the soft light of the spaceship. Her nipples were of a fascinating wine-red with a tinge of rose and they were kind of puffy with areolas that beautifully faded into the milky paleness of her perky breasts.

Dooku knelt in front of Padmé and cupped her nubile breasts, and he realized that Padmé's boobs had retained almost all the firmness they had when she was Queen Amidala. Padmé sobbed and whimpered at the same time as her breasts began to swell with forced pleasure under Dooku's seasoned hands and expert tongue.

Padmé had no idea a man could suck and knead her breasts with such skill. Dooku had a vast, vast treasury of experience; he must have had a great many lovers to become so seasoned a lover. She felt angry at herself for letting herself slip like that. She ought to hate him, yet she secretly wished he kept on sucking her breasts.

She felt the ruined remnants of her torn outfit on either side of her violated breasts; she tried to fight the intensely erotic atmosphere that was implied by this forced undressing. She failed to resist arousal and juices rushed inside her pussy. Padmé had very sensitive breasts and she resented Anakin for being too impatient and rushing into full penetration after very little in the way of foreplay. She loved Anakin and she had intensely climaxed when she received him inside her; the age gap between them felt lovely and quite exciting, but still, she wished Anakin was a more considerate and patient lover.

Count Dooku offered her body something very different. He was no longer handsome in his face, but he made up for it by licking and circling around her nipples with strokes that were both powerful and gentle. How he did this, she had no idea, but when he finally started to kiss her abdomen, when the soft hair of his white beard met her spotless skin at her navel, she found herself unable to resist. Through his skill, Count Dooku raped her mind into feeling impatient for him to finish undressing her.

She remained silent as he undid her pants and her belt. She felt herself going soaking wet as he pulled down her pants along with her panties. She tried to protest and fight back, but she found herself unable to stop her from panting hard and she remained silent as she felt her pants slip down her legs.

As he discovered the firm playing ground of her girly hips, Padmé felt his gaze, his age-old gaze on her bush of dark hair, a perfect triangle she was proud of. Anakin wanted her to shave, but she refused. This became their first quarrel, not even a week into their relationship.

"Only a young fool would be so tasteless as to want such a wonderful triangle of velvety hair to be gone!" Count Dooku said with his theatrical voice as he rested his lips on Padmé's hairy vulva. He gently kissed and licked her folds while caressing her upper thighs and running his hands over her hips and reaching behind to find the lovely firmness of her juicy ass. She was delicious!

He chuckled as he knew that Anakin would eventually hear his words. Oh, he was going to be so filled with hatred! What a charming plan he had devised! Darth Sidious was not going to be fooled by his tale of having to elude pursuers, but Count Dooku was ready to assume the risks involved with this lovely detour. Padmé's cunt hair felt too good on his old face, and her coral-color entrance tasted so lovely and girly-amazing as he began circling it with his tongue.

"Ooohhh... Nooo... Stop this, please! No! Don't! Oohh nooo don't... Oooohhhh... Oooooohhh..." Padmé exhaled amid her heavy panting.

Dooku's tongue darted inside her pussy and found her clit. This was the very first time Padmé was being given a proper cunnilingus. She said "no" because this man filled her with loathing, because he was forcing her to cheat on Anakin, yet her body responded to him in ways it didn't respond to Anakin.

The more she said "No!" and begged the naked Count to stop, the more her hidden female devil craved for more of this, more of him, more of his beard gently stroking her cunt as the tip of his tongue circled around her clit and drove her nuts!

He kept at it until he heard her moaning while she urgently repeated "Noo! No! No... Stop this, please! Noo!"

She was on the verge of a wild climax. He stopped. He suddenly rose and rushed at her swollen breasts, which fitted perfectly in the palm of his hands as he pressed them and discovered, through her intense moaning, that the half-naked woman liked rough play on her breasts.

Dooku kept pressing Padmé's breasts as it filled him with a sense of complete ownership, all the more as this was causing her to fill the room with her loud moans. His ship was flying through hyperspace and he had long hours of pleasure before him. He was going to mount her and mount her good! Then the two crewmen would also fill her up. All of this was being recorded in holograms for Anakin to choke on...

Now that she was at his mercy and soaking wet, it was time to finish stripping her naked. He felt his erection coming alive again as he realized he was just about to see and touch Padmé's feet. Oohh, the lovely feet she must have!

In a hurry, her pants and her leather boots were gone along with her fancy panties. Dooku took unfathomable delight in gently removing her green socks made of silk. Padmé was a rather short and petite girl, and her feet were just as dainty and feminine as her hands and the rest of her figure. She was even more adorable than he had anticipated.

Oh, God! Padmé... her lovely feet... So sweet and adorable! Oh, God...

Feet did not change much through the course of a woman's life. They remained basically the same from youth to old age. Padmé's feet were no exception.

The droids kept their motionless hold on Padmé, who could not move her arms, while Count Dooku took her feet and ankles and brought them up where they touched his face. He let one down and began licking the other. Under his Jedi tongue, he found subtle flavors that offered a sweet, mushroomy taste that reminded him of the soil on planet Naboo. No two women had the exact same foot smell. As he kept worshipping the tenderness of her foot, he committed her scent to his lustful memory.

Padmé's foot was as unique as her fingerprints. She was indeed Padmé Amidala of planet Naboo. From the girly sweetness of her foot, Dooku ran his hands on the ungodly silkiness of her lower leg. On her ankle, he found a small tattoo that said "BROKENWING" in black capital letters.

She could not possibly have had a tatto while she was Queen, so it must be recent. He felt fascinated by this discovery. Even with the power of the Force, a girl would never fail to surprise him in one way or another. To him, this was one of the many other ways the Force manifested Itself in living beings; the Jedi Masters overlooked that aspect, which himself and his apprentice Qi-Gon-Jin had learned to cultivate.

"Brokenwing... What does it stand for?" Dooku asked of Padmé.

"Fuck you!" Padmé replied. She felt instantly shocked at what she had just said. This was the first time ever she was using a four-letter word. But she felt so deeply raped by the Count's question. This tattoo was the most personal thing she had. She even refused to tell Anakin; she told him he'd have to wait until they were married.

Dooku smiled as he kept kissing and licking Padmé's foot. He knelt in front of her and began kissing and licking both her feet in complete adoration. He felt that somewhere deep within herself, a dark side of Padmé felt curious and impatient to feel his cock inside her. He knew how tantalizing his prolonged foreplay was for this secret side of Padmé.

After taking his time, after getting fully acquainted with every nook and cranny of Padmé's kissable feet, only then, Count Dooku stood up and started masturbating.

"You thought you could escape me, eh? Well, you are mistaken, Padmé Amidala! Now, Padmé... Now!"

On this, he took his raging cock and pushed it inside Padmé, who began crying and sobbing as she felt him penetrate her wet cunt like a lightsaber inside a pound of butter.

The sex was hard and intense. After all this foreplay, Padmé's body was beyond ready. She felt no pain, save a little strain on her wrists where the motionless droids kept holding her. The droids were subtly oscillating along with Dooku's heavy strokes as he took his pleasure inside Padmé, who was soon unable to keep herself from moaning out loud. She knew they were being filmed in holograms by the R2 droid, but the very thought of Anakin watching this... it suddenly multiplied her arousal.

Padmé herself rested her feet against Dooku's shoulders, and unconsciously positioned herself at a more favorable angle, as he kept pounding her while holding her ankles and contemplating the forbidden delicateness of her feet. She saw the many beads of sweat on his forehead as the silver fox kept pleasuring himself inside her young pussy. Padmé suddenly lost it and screamed in a loud salvo of high-pitched whimpers...

"AAAAHH, AAAAAH-AAAA--AAAAAAH--AAAAH--AAAAA--aaaaaa-aaaa... Oh, my God! Brokenwing! Brokenwing!!!"

Dooku clearly heard her say brokenwing amid her wild orgasm. He kept watching the paleness of her feet that radiated her girliness from his shoulders, where they rested, right down to his loins and to the tip of his cock. He also immensely adored the sight of her bouncing breasts, jiggling loose with her wine-rosy nipples between the battered remains of her torn outfit... Dark sandy fabric against her pale bouncing flesh...

"HHGHGH... HH PADMÉ! UUUUUUGGH NNNNNNNDDJJDD NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNHHHH... AAHHRRR PADMÉ I'M INSIDE HERRHRRHH DJNNNNNNNNNHHGHH!!!"

As he lost control of his body and spewed out an unquantifiable amount of cum, Count Dooku felt incredibly shy and vulnerable in front of Padmé. The load was a long and powerful one that forced him into a series of screams of animalistic delight.

With his dick finally empty and his cum dripping out of her violated pussy, Count Doku let himself fall down to his knees and further down where his face rested on the perfect splendour of Padmé's feet, which he covered with kisses and drank her girly sweat. He was both her master and her slave.

"Oh, by the Galaxy! This is a very, very lovely plan to... to execute... Ohh, Padmé, your feet taste so good!"

It was as if he had just raped all the most beautiful girls of planet Naboo at once in the person of Padmé. Raping a former Queen could produce such a surprising effect.

If a man is about to die a violent death, then he deserves to get a great fuck before.

The words resonated in Dooku's mind as he slowly got up to his feet, his legs still wobbly from the intense orgasm. Someone had said that a very long time ago, back when he was still an apprentice. He wondered why these words were popping up in his thoughts just now. What did it mean. The answer filled him with dread. These were very ominous words; he saw this clearly in the Force.

Padmé was the best fuck Dooku ever had since that very first love of so long ago on Tatooine, where his ship was headed now. He knew that Darth Sidious was sensing this and that he was less than pleased, but it would be so effective a device to bring Anakin to the Dark Side that Sidious had to take this plan in stride.

As he saw the crewmen stripping themselves completely naked in front of a terrified Padmé, Count Dooku wondered what Brokenwing signified to her. He wanted to know everything about Padmé. Even the Force could not keep him from falling in love and looking forward to witnessing her rape at the hands of his crewmen. He knew he was going to grow a new erection and that he was going to try her from behind, after.

He did not need the Force to make that prediction.

TO BE CONTINUED.

Padmé was barely conscious of where she was as waves of post-climax delight imposed themselves and rolled over her unwilling mind. Did she actually participate in her own rape?!

She began sobbing like a wailing school girl as she remembered, clearly now, that she had willingly pressed her feet against Count Dooku's shoulders and the pressure on her soles had magnified the pleasure she felt.

Then, her gaze fell on the two crewmen as they were quickly undressing.

"Oh, no... Noooo!" she panicked and started bolting her arms and tried to wrestle against the motionless droids, who remained there, unphased; she only managed to hurt her wrists against their steel grip.

The pilot and copilot had merely unzipped their trousers and masturbated as they watched Count Dooku raping Padmé. Now, they were quickly removing their brown flying outfit.

"What about us, Milady? Eh? What about us?" the pilot jeered at her, grinning as he finished stripping himself naked.

"Yeah, what about us? You sure can give us a piece of your nice pussy! We'll show you the people's beat!" the copilot added while he urgently got rid of his own uniform.

This one was older and stood an average height. He had a grey mustache and on top of that, he was balding and did not have the common sense to shave it all off, so there he was with a nice "loser's crown" and a nice shiny cranium that showed how common and nondescript his genes were. Padmé felt terrifying disgust upon seeing his nondescript dick.

The one who had spoken first looked younger, perhaps 35 years old, and he stood taller. He had thinning hair that displayed a nondescript brown and was overall just as nondescript as he looked lame. Another loser.

Padmé's heart turned to water as it dawned on her that she was going to get raped by such a pair of losers. This was worse than death! It was so disgusting and humiliating!

"Nooo! No! Stay away from me! Stay away! Stay away!" Padmé screamed in panic at the two crewmen.

They walked right at her in the nude, their erections proudly pointed at her gorgeous body and their balls hanging like as many bad omens for Padmé; their nondescript balls were full with slimy cum they were more than willing to give her. She couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that THIS was happening. Raped by the common crew.

"No! Noooooo! Don't touch me! Don't... DON'T! NOOOOOOOOO!"

"Vigils. Release hold!" the pilot ordered the two droids, who immediately let go Padmé's sore wrists as both crewmen grabbed her.

"NOOOO!!! GET OFF ME! GET OFF ME, YOU DIRTY SCUM! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO EVEN LOOK AT ME!!!"

Padmé bolted and tried to wrestle the men with all the strength she had left, but she was quite tired and these two men were stronger than they looked. Count Dooku had taught them how to train their nervous system in a way that greatly increased their physical power. After all, they were not as common as they looked.

As she realized that she absolutely could not break free nor fight these men off, Padmé began to squeal and wail. Cound Dooku felt her hopeless sense of debasement and he looked on, very much amused and pleased.

The D2 droid filmed all the action as the gorgeous captive filled the spaceship's main cabin with her shrill cries. Padmé bitterly sobbed and begged the men to let her go, yet her very humiliation stirred some unintended fires within her. Mush to her horror, Padmé realized they were going to find her cunt rather wet, and the more she resisted, the worse it got.

The bald and ageing copilot held her arms firmly pinned on the floor above her beautiful head of dark brown hair, her braid resting on the man's knee as she shrieked her shame at the face of the younger man, who gleefully strained and wrestled her to spread her legs.

He prevailed and squeezed himself between her soft thighs as he looked down on the perfectly dark triangle of velvety hair that showed exactly where he ought to go.

"AAAAAAHHH NNAAAAAAOOOOOOO!!! NOOO! NOO! NOO! NO! NNOOOO... AAAHH NOOO GET OFF ME YA SCUM... AAAAAAAAHHHH AAAHH-AAAAAHHAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..."

Padmé squealed and wailed, shaking her head frantically in a gesture of absolute refusal as the jeering pilot laid himself down on top of her while his older croony mocked her and kept her wrists under his firm grip. Both men contemplated the graceful splendor of her freely moving breasts as she kept frantically squealing and wriggling in their clutches.

The pilot uttered a victorious grunt as he savagely sunk his cock inside her cum-drenched pussy. As he began to pound her while grunting like a degenerate apeman, Padmé shrieked and writhed under him as if she were being eviscerated alive. The hammer of shame was crushing her and breaking her queenly pride in countless little shards. She never felt more humiliated in her entire life. Something broke in her soul.

"Hey! How about this! Eh? Take this, HRRR... HHRR... HRR, HRRR, HRRRR HRRR HRRR HRRR HRRRR... WOAAHHH! NOW THIS IS SOME REAL GOOD FUCKING!  HHRR... HRR, HRRR, HRRRR HRRR HRRR HRRR HRRRR..." The dick-happy man uttered and groaned as he let spill some slobber down on her peachy face. Fucking the former Queen Amidala was unbelievable, especially for a commoner like him.

The R2 droid kept recording all of it in holograms for posterity.

"You thought you were so high above us, eh? Bitch!" the co-pilot taunted her as he kept watching the jiggling paleness of Padmé's breasts under his panting mate, who was having the time of his life as he kept pounding her again, again and again in open-mouthed glee...

"Now, Milady! Now! ... You're getting the lowly crewmen hhurr! Deep hurrr!!! Deep-deep inside your royal highness... OOHHH GODD! THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD! Hrrrrr... hrrr, hrrr, hrrrr OOOHHH, OHHHH OHHHH HERE IT COMES, HERE IT COMES HERE IT COMMZZZZZZ NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNRRRH YYYAAAAAAAAHHHRRRRRRR!!! She got the crewmeNNNNNHHRRRRrrr..."

"AAAHHH NAAAOOOOOOOOOOoooooo... AAAH NOO! AAHH NOOO... NO, NO, NO, NOOOooooooo..." Padmé cried as she horribly heard and felt his powerful relief.

This should never, ever have happened in all galaxies! She could manage to accept getting overpowered and whored by a full-fledged Jedi knight. But this... Being pinned under these two scums! These two commoners! Two losers! Nothing really special about them... Nothing really going for them... They were nobodies!

Even their dicks were flatly average and nondescript. And yet such a homely man, with his blue-collar dick, had just done unfathomable and permanent damage to Padmé's soul and sense of self. She was a pure figure of crystal broken into a galaxy of shards that nothing, not even the Force, could ever piece back together.

And... Oh no! There came the second crewman, even more homely and pathetic-looking than the first one, who at least had a full head of hair. As that thought hit her, Padmé felt cheap as she realized how vain and superficial she could be.

"Get your dirty paws off me, you filthy scumbag!" she bellowed at the second man, who grinned under his sickening grey mustache.

The men flipped her around and forced her to position herself on all fours, with the pilot holding her wrists in place as he panted from his orgasm and kept jeering at her as he leaned his head on hers. The older man was kneeling behind her and running his unbelieving hands over the double-splendor of her pale butt, which deployed in delightfully wide curves against the tightness of her slim waist.

Padmé was too tired to keep fighting. As if her body was helping them in further shaming her, she found that this loser's hands on her butt were giving her waves of unwelcome pleasure. The feeling of being nude and sandwiched between both crewmen added to her forced sense of erotism.

She let out another sudden burst of wails as the older man jerked himself inside her pussy, and with his balding crown and cranium, he triumphantly dominated her and blissfully grabbed her alluring waist. He lost himself in the act of contemplating Padmé's butt, so pale with notes of peachiness that echoed her spotless face. Padmé would have won a planet-wide contest for the most graceful booty.

The spat-spat-spat-spat soon resonated throughout the cabin as the nondescript, homely copilot repeatedly slammed himself against Padmé's rear-end. He kept pounding her in religious silence as he visually worshipped the pair of white buttocks he was having under him. The dark sand hue of the torn tunic top she was still wearing intensified the peachy tinge in her spotless complexion, making the shaking mass of her butt look even smoother. Padmé felt thankful that she was being screwed without being forced to see his face.

Count Dooku had a raging erection as he intensely watched Padmé getting screwed doggystyle. It was so unreal. What a wonderful plan he had devised! His cock grew even swoller and harder as he thought of how Anakin was going to react upon watching the hologram recording.

The balding copilot accelerated his pace into an absolute rape frenzy while Padmé was resting her weight on her elbows, offering the protruding sight of her derriere, a priceless sight, and clenching her girly fists in a fit of powerless rage as the pilot kept holding her forearms and taunting her...

"The Queen is now getting screwed by the crew! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

"Shit!" Padmé thought amid the shaking chaos of her doggystyle rape, "And he even laughs at his lame pun! What a loser!"

He suddenly stopped. It took Padmé a while to realize he was no longer pounding her. He was moving her...

“Oh nnoooo... PLEASE! PLEASE SIR! NO! NOOOO! NOT THIS...” Padmé begged and pleaded as she realized he was lying her down and setting himself on top of her.

Grinning under his sickly mustache, the greying, balding co-pilot re-entered Padmé and resumed the rape, this time missionary style... With his slobber-spilling mouth right above her pretty face! She felt beyond disgusted. She wished she were dead as he pounded her with his sickening face only inches above hers... She heard and felt how intense his pleasure was, while she was having none.

The co-pilot suddenly uttered some sick sounds that reminded Padmé of some green-headed walruses she had seen copulating during a trip in the North Pole of Naboo. He was so ungodly sickening to hear as he relieved himself...
"ooAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaWWwww..."

Padmé felt the three bursts of hot seed he shot inside her, and then the last one that landed on her tummy as he pulled out and uttered one last walrus-sounding growl...

So gross!

As soon as he saw that the crewman was finished, Count Dooku rushed at Padmé and covered her. He urgently rammed his hard dick deep inside her whored cunt and began raping her urgently.

Padmé was utterly shaken, like a weightless doll. She deeply felt the fury of Dooku! Under his savage strokes, she began to whimper in loud, uncontrollable bursts of forced arousal. She shook her head as she felt the ravaging strokes striking home inside her and stirring her inner fires...

"AAAH NAAOOO! aaaaa... AAAAAA! aaaahh... aaaaaaaahhhh... AAAAAAAAHHH!!! They all take me! The mutinied Gungans! With their big-big dicks... aaahaaahhaa aaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAhhh... Ooohh by the galaxy! This is too mmuch... AaNnaaaahhh AAAAAAAAAA, AAAA, AAAA, AAAAAAAAAAAA, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Ooohhh..."

Her nuclear orgasm left Padmé panting and breathless, with her body gently sliding on the neat ceramic floor while Dooku kept hammering her, his erection powerfully swelling even more at the perfect sight of her jiggling breasts... So gracefully moving in her polluted debasement. He knew that raping her would feel good, but even with the Force, he did not anticipate it would be this good!

The old Jedi now sounded like a rutting baboon as he grunted and groaned past his edge and then, he bolted and looked deep inside her eyes as he let out a yell of victory and exploded inside her with a gigantic load of Jedi cum.

Count Dooku commanded the droids to take hold of Padmé and escort her, or rather help her, to the bathroom. The poor girl was exhausted. She deserved some refreshment...

TO BE CONTINUED.

As Amidala Padmé wakes up, she notices she isn't on a spaceship anymore.

She's in bed, naked. Where is she? Where's that bedroom.

Near her bed stands a D2-series droid, with flame-red stripes, that immediately starts playing a hologram when it detects that she's awake and looking its way.

A faded, 3D image of Count Dooku materializes, causing her to yelp and recoil as she recognizes the aged, grinning features of her respectable-looking rapist.

"Good morning, my dear. I trust that you found your new bed comfortable. You will find a fresh set of clothes at the bed's feet, and my droid servant will soon bring you a tasty Tatooinian breakfast, a dish you may have enjoyed some years back when you were staying with Shmi Skywalker. Feel free to join me after on the terrasse; you'll find your way. The view from up here is breathtaking. I would have loved to share the binary sunset with you, but you were sleeping so beautifully! I'll be expecting you in an hour."

The way he said "Feel free to join me" was a travesty of freedom. His tone really meant she had to be there.

Padmé's memories are resurfacing. She begins to cry as she remembers how the Count flashed his lightsaber and cut off her upper garments without injuring her; then came the rapes. The old Jedi was first, and he took his pleasure in such a way that she ended up orgasming in his arms; then came the humiliation beyond all humiliations at the hands of the crewmen; these losers shot their seed inside her. She'd be better off dead!

Now, what next? She is in some large house or small palace. Where? She confusedly remembers the Count giving her something to drink, and soon after, she was lapsed into the void as he said she was going to need all the rest and sleep she could get.

Given what she's just been through, she finds herself recovering surprisingly well. Other women would be crushed and just lying down like a heap of used meat, breathing with no life left in them. Padmé stands proud even in her debasement; she isn't any woman; she is former Queen of planet Naboo. What she doesn't want to admit is that a part of her enjoyed being raped as former Queen Amidala. When she was a teenager, and a ruling Queen, her favourite fantasy was to imagine an army of mutinied Gungans who stormed the palace and gang-raped her along with every other woman they found. When the viceroy invaded Naboo with an army of battlee droids, something deeply evil within her felt disappointed that this wasn't an army of men who would have taken her and used her as entertainment.

She hates the Count for knowing her so well. He no doubt used the Force to probe her; he must have had fun as he understood she was somehow enjoying the rapes and why this was so.

Right now, she has no other option than getting dressed and eating her breakfast. She remembers Shmi, very fondly. Tears rolls down her eyes as she thinks of the dark-haired woman, so benevolent, with something mysterious in her features that made her want to kiss her from the moment they met, back when Anakin was only nine years old. She was Queen and Shmi was slave. Shmi said she had conceived Anakin out of nowhere; she said so to Qui-Gon Jinn, who interpreted this as an act of conception through the Force. Shmi told her the truth when they became intimate.

Padmé is deeply mourning Shmi. She loved her like she never loved and never will love again.

The droid servant comes with her breakfast as she just got dressed. She quickly does her hair as the room is filled with the unmistakable aroma of a Tatooine terrine, which she finds was cooked the way Shmi did it on the very night she came to her bed. That terrine is made using a special mushroom breed that grows in the excess condensation of moisture vaporators on the desert planet. The steaming dish draws moisture from the mushrooms. It is completed with various chopped vegetables mixed with the pieces of mushroom, all of it baked in a brown broth and served in a deep plate with a conical cover.

The terrine comes with twirl-shaped tusken bread and a steaming pot of blue-milk coffee, made from heated bantha milk with the special kind of coffee that was grown in a less desertic region near Tatooine's north pole. That breakfast and Dooku's mention of a binary sunset tell her where she is. There's no doubt about it.

The hot meal and coffee are very comforting to Padmé's nostrils, sight, taste and mind. It reminds her of the female love of her life, Shmi. She suddenly trembles. She never told Anakin that she's bisexual and once shared his mother's bed, and how could she? What if Dooku made it known to him? The bastard! By serving her that breakfast, he's telling her that he knows about her and Shmi.

In a sudden movement of anger, she feels like smashing the breakfast down onto the turquoise tiled floor, but how could she do such a thing? It would be like hitting Shmi herself. Besides, it is immature and un-queenly to act like this. She was raped, but she still retains her queenly sense of dignity. She presently sits and eats with the exquisite manners that were ingrained in her when she was a little girl. Count Dooku salivates on the other side of the hidden camera as he watches her agile fingers take the silver utensils and gracefully attack her terrine.

Spying on her as she eats is almost as pleasurable as it was to watch her emerge from the bed in the nude before she put on the same outfit she wore ten years before during the battle that liberated Naboo from the viceroy's army of droids. It was all there, complete with the yellow-striped black trousers, and a dark wine-red greatcoat with vertical golden bands at the seams of ample sleeves. Last but not least were the long boots of black leather.

As she drinks the bantha-milk coffee, she finds tranquillity in the steaming blue liquid. The more she drinks, the calmer she feels. She likes the outfit she's wearing. Her cup of coffee is now half empty. There's more in an auto-heating jug; she refills her cup and takes another sip. It tastes wholesome, full in her mouth, both sugary and bitter with a twang on the tongue that is unique to bantha milk at a precise temperature.

Padmé closes her eyes. She starts daydreaming; she relives her first kiss with Shmi, who was then in her mid-thirties while she was just a teen, yet Queen of Naboo. To Shmi, she was always just Padmé. She will never forget the electricity and the tingle on her skin as her lips met Shmi's. They stood alone in the kitchen; Anakin had gone to sleep and Qui-Gon-Jinn was outside speaking to the ship. She was helping her put things in neat order for next day. It just happened. Their hands met; she looked into her wonderful eyes, dark and lighted with mystery, just like her raven hair. Padmé could never explain why she felt so strongly attracted to Shmi. She just was.



When they kissed, it was as if her own life had led to this moment. Her entire being burst with happiness when she found herself in Shmi's arms and started caressing the woman's lips with her tongue, and she eagerly received her accelerating breath inside her as they both fell to their knees and kept madly kissing, until Shmi managed to get back up on her feet and took her to her bedroom, where the girl and the woman ravenously undressed each other. Shmi had a hard life with no love, except for and from her son; Padmé gave her true love, while Shmi gave her true one-on-one intimacy.

Padmé remembers each and every moment of that first night with Shmi. She keeps drinking the blue coffee. She feels hornier with each sip. The outfit she's wearing makes her horny as well; she now softly caresses her own boobs through the dark-red cotton from Naboo, wishing it were Shmi. It feels so nice! And so sad.

The D2 droid rolls closer. It politely beeps a couple of times, indicating that the hour is up and Count Dooku is now expecting her on the terrace.

"Thank you, Mister... D2-B78. I look forward to have a chat with you; I'm alone here and I can use your company," she civilly replies with a sensual caress on the droid's red-striped head, about the height of her breasts or a bit lower. The droid makes a cheerful beep-beep that sounds like its way to say thank you.

***

She walked through a bright hallway, knowing full well that all doors were locked and cameras were following her. She easily found her way to a roof terrace that overlooked a majestic landscape of brown, sun-baked mountains and ridges that broke the regular dunes of the all-encompassing desert of pale sand, under a blinding sky of bright blue with the twin suns on their way up to their zeniths.

Padmé wasn't surprised to see this brightness as she emerged from the hallway and gave time for her eyes to adjust to Tatooine's aggressive daylight. Count Dooku sat at a small table, under a large awning; he was sipping coffee and wearing his usual dark Jedi outfit with his silver hair and beard perfectly groomed.

"Hello, Padmé. Did you sleep well? How was the breakfast? Lots of memories, I presume."

Padmé didn't answer her rapist's greeting. She just felt... so weird and... horny? Wasn't she scared and disgusted? In fact, she wasn't really. She just felt horny. Why was she feeling so funny? It suddenly occurred to her. The bantha-milk coffee! Drugged.

"You must be wondering why you're here and how long you are going to remain here. Don't worry, you'll be taken back to Anakin in time for your wedding, although it may be postponed a week or two. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! In the meantime, you will live such dreams as you always wanted to live, although you never wanted to admit it to yourself. Now, before our special guests arrive, would you like to talk about Shmi?"

Padmé didn't answer. She began thinking about what she could do to escape and run to find Shmi's widower and their relatives, but this would put them in danger.

"I wouldn't try it if I were you," said Dooku, reading her intentions through the Force. "You see, even if you manage to get through the locked doors, you would quickly be spotted and captured by marauding tuskens; you would end up like Shmi, a whore for tusken raiders."

The way he talked about Shmi's demise angered her.

"You'd like to use this, wouldn't you?"

Dooku was showing a silvery laser pistol that lay on the round table right at his left side, the side nearest her. How on Naboo didn't she notice it?

"You know how it's going to pan out, but you're welcome to tr..."

PtLLWWW! VZZZZZZZZWWMH!

She had grabbed the pistol and shot at him and his laser blade had deflected the blast just as the pistol jumped out of her hand and flew right in Dooku's left hand. The man she thought she shot as he quietly sat at the table was now standing tall with the small pistol in one hand and his red lightsaber pointing down from his right hand. He smiled at her, grinning with amusement as he advanced on her, towering over her as she recoiled from his blazing lightsaber; in his other hand, the sleek pistol shone like a bright silver fish under Tatooine's suns.

As she kept recoiling toward a wall, the extra-tall Jedi kept advancing on her, wearing a sardonic grin on his silver-bearded face, looking ominous in his black cape. His voice made her shiver right down her spine.

"Did you get your kick out of trying to shoot me, young lady? Are you turned on? I know you are. You show all the signs of arousal under your thin veneer of fear and hatred. I saw you on images of that Naboo battle from ten years ago. As you fired that little toy here, you had that same gentle blush on your face, the same sort of heavy breathing, and I can bet that your tits were swelling, just like they are now under that neat bra I gave you to wear under your Naboo outfit. You were horny then, and you are horny right now!"

She looked at him with hatred, and he laughed out loud.

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Yes, I'm right. You are. Your emotions betray you. I could grab you, drag you to that table, bend you over it and take my pleasure, and it would be a great fuck, but I have a surprise for you."

He suspended his speech and enjoyed the light of curiosity piercing through her angry eyes.

"You want to know what it is, don't you? When we were on Geonosis, I sensed that humanoids turned you on. I sensed that a part of you felt a bit disappointed that your winged guardians, the Geonosians, didn't take their liberties with you. I sensed it; deep within, you craved them. You've always wanted to be used by humanoid creatures, isn't that so? Would you like to talk about it in more... pressing detail before our special guests arrive? Is there something you'd like to tell me about that tattoo on your ankle? About Brokenwing?" asked Dooku tauntingly as he turned off his lightsaber and returned it to his belt.

"Oh, I hate you!"

"Tut tut! You think you hate me; you hate me on the surface, but the dark side has no power over you, for you are filled with positive love and life deep within; this is what drew you to Shmi. You have none of that deeply ingrained fear and hatred that are so abundant in Anakin Skywalker, the boy you are about to marry. Yes, he's just a boy, so filled with fear and hatred that I'm afraid he'll never mature to become a Jedi master. His only future lies with the dark side of the Force, and..."

"I hate you! I hate you! I, arr... ggh..."

"And it will be especially true after he sees all the footage we took of you being such a good whore on my spaceship! And more footage is to come in the immediate future," Dooku bellowed while Padmé was down on her knees, holding her throat while he had his right arm raised toward her with his half-closed fist choking her through the Force.

He presently released her and she dropped down to the checkered-tiled floor, gasping for air and stertorously recovering, in foetal position, under Dooku's amused grin.

"I knew that playing with you was going to be fun, but little did I know it would be this much fun! And oh, I sense our guests will be here shortly. If you let me help you stand up, you will like to meet them while on your feet. But they won't allow you to remain on your feet for very long. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"





"Get up! Get up, Padmé Amidala, former Queen of Naboo! Get up now! On your feet, while you still can," Dooku commanded. He started to Force-choke her again, and she took the hint. Slowly, laboriously, she struggled back up to her feet. Her youthful body allowed her breathing to soon return to normal as she kept her distance from her tormentor.

Dooku pointed at the far horizon, a bit up toward the bright sky. Her gaze followed his index finger. She saw a dot in the sky. The dot was gaining in size. It was an airborne craft approaching. The gliding craft grew in size; Padmé now perceived it was a Tatooine Skiff that quickly glided toward the terrace; its tan colour blended with the desertic landscape; its small bridge was a rounded platform with low railings, and its occupants were...

"Oh no! Not Gamorreans! No..."

Her eyes were not deceiving her. As the skiff glided and slowed down into its final approach near the terrace, she saw them all too clearly, her legs paralyzed with fear and extreme arousal, partly from the drugged coffee, partly from her own secret fantasies. These were big, hammy humanoid creatures with horns on their forehead, and a wide, fat face with an equally wide mouth, tusks out, hanging jowls, and worst of all... a pig-like snout that confirmed them as green-skinned monsters of ugliness. There were six of them, standing proud in their gross leather armours, wearing an impossibly large fur skirt under a leather belt; they held large spears and battle axes. She already felt their vulgar gazes on her; they were keenly checking her out as their skiff closed in.

"No! No... You can't do this to me, Mister Dooku! Not that!"

"I can and I will! And the correct way to address me is Count!" Dooku said as he grabbed her wrists from behind and squeezed hard enough to make her wince with pain while she looked with terrified arousal at the skiff approaching, now only feet away from the terrace's edge as it gracefully turned ninety degrees. A ramp emerged from its side as the gliding vehicle came to a complete halt, standing motionless in the air with the ramp securing a vertiginous bridge linking the skiff to the high terrace.

"No... No... Not this... Please, I'll do anyting you want, anything! But don't let them have me!"

"Padmé Padmé Padmé... Your emotions are clear. Your body is betraying you. You want these big boys to take their turns inside you, and they will!"

"Nooo! Please, no! Let me go! I swear I'll do anything, I swear... Nooo! Noo-ooo-ooo ooo..."

The same D2-type droid was there, filming the scene as the Gamorreans proudly walked one by one along the ramp and onto the terrace; their squat legs matched their proportionately short arms as they approached Dooku and Padmé, their piggish eyes keenly looking through her dark red garments as they walked big and proud under Tatooine's high suns, casting short shadows on the bright tiles as their large sandaled feet trod on the checkered floor.

They stopped some ten feet away from their host, forming a semi-circle surrounding Padmé, whose wrists were still painfully restrained by Dooku, who grinned behind her and reached down to kiss the top of her head, enjoying the queenly scent of her brown hair. She could only watch their disgusting snouts as they drooled from their superhuman-wide lips that gave way to tusks on either side. She looked at the leather armour covering their barrel torsos, the fur skirts that made their hips look ridiculously wide, and she screamed with terror, stricken by en extreme sense of humiliation and debasement as she blocked her thoughts from acknowledging what was just about to happen.

***

"Enjoy her, Garffh!" Dooku playfully utters as he tosses Padmé against the leather-covered chest of the largest of the Gamorreans, a behemoth of green brawn standing well over six feet; he grabs her by the shoulders and starts licking her face, his big snout grunting with joy as she shrieks in absolute terror and turns her face away, only managing to receive Garffh's coarse tongue all over the right side of her pretty face.

She tries to kick her knee into his balls, but two other Gamorreans grab her waist and her torso, groping her buttocks and painfully pressing her breasts, making her yelp with pain as Garffh keeps covering the right side of her face with the wetness of his tongue adoration.

Garffh makes loud grunts that resonate with joy while the two others keep running their big hands all over Padmé's protesting, struggling figure. She begs them to at least be gentle, which does produce an effect; the oinking Gamorrean stops pressing her breasts and fondles them, a bit roughly, but it is much better. The other Gamorrean keeps fondling her buttocks, and this ticks her secret box down below.

As Garffh grabs her head and forces her to kiss his slobber-dripping mouth with his tusks brushing her face in the process, Padmé feels a surging tsunami of arousal inside her. It grows and grows, and ends up hijacking all her senses as Garffh strokes and loosens her hair with a gentleness that astonishes her from such a gross-looking humanoid, while other hands relentlessly knead her breasts through her Naboo tunic, and one of them presses her sex through her black trousers, while other hands are exploring the perky curves of her butt under the wine-red tunic, which they presently lift up to gain a better access. Padmé is surrounded by a moving wall of leather-armoured Gamorreans and a forest of green hands that keep fondling all her sexual parts at the same time, while the larger one, Garffh, keeps kissing her. She's already soaking wet.

Padmé realizes that a growing part of her actually wants them to take her clothes off. The notion of having sex with Gamorreans absolutely disgusts and terrifies her, yet she feels horny and sexually overwhelmed as she realizes that these beings are incredibly sentient; their hands are strong, they smell strong, but not as disgusting as one would think, or perhaps her aroused state tricks her nostrils into believing this. The drugged coffee she had also produces a strong arousing effect. Her face is blushed and her boobs are swelling under the elastic fabric of her bra. Her body loves it when they feel her nipples through her garments, and it longs for skin-on-skin heat.

Count Dooku is immensely enjoying the show, which is all filmed by the dutiful R2 droid. He's already as hard as the handle of his lightsaber as he anticipates the moment when the Gamorreans will savagely strip her naked. Whenever he's on Tatooine, he sometimes go to Jabba the Hut's court to pay his respects, but mostly to watch some unfortunate girl getting gang-raped by a group of Gamorreans in front of everybody; it is usually the daughter, sister, wife or girlfriend of some merchant or smuggler who's fallen a bit behind schedule in the payment of a debt. But with Padmé...

He realizes that he could sell her to Jabba the Hut for a Queen's ransom, but he must not stray from the plan he has laid down. Padmé Amidala must be taken back to Naboo and marry Anakin Skywalker; this is essential. Not only will Anakin be lured by the dark side, but their marriage will produce offsprings that will also be strong with the Force and liable to be seduced by the dark side when their time comes.

Dooku presently watches the Gamorreans pressing themselves around the beautiful human girl, who stands much shorter than them. Garffh must stoop down to kiss her, which isn't all too comfortable.

"Garffh!" Dooku shouts at him, covering their grunts and oinks. He motions at the empty table and the Gamorrean leader takes the hint.

Padmé yelps with extreme terror and arousal, loudly protesting as they sweep her off her feet and carry her effortlessly to the table as she frantically kicks the air with her long black boots as the large creatures emit series of oinks that sound like laughter. As she struggles and keeps kicking the air, she feels their strength and the extreme lust in them, and this turns her perhaps even more than it terrifies her. Dooku drugged her into enjoying this!

Once at the table, a Gamorrean violently tosses away the empty cup and plates and saucers, sending them flying down on the checkered ceramic floor, where they bounce and roll without breaking. On the cleared table, Padmé gets pinned, looking up toward the yellow awning as she screams, "Nooo! Stop this! Noo! Nooo! Don't! Don't!"

But the more she screams, kicks, struggles and protests, the more aroused she gets. She can't keep herself from struggling. She hates herself for this. The evil part within her is wildly anticipating the moment where the oinking Gamorreans will do the unthinkable; they're going to do as they like with her.

"Nooo! Nooo! No! No! No! Please! Please, not this! Noo!" she keeps shouting at the top of her voice, her head frantically shaking under the big snouts of her grunting, oinking captors, who firmly restrain her limbs in their painfully strong grip. She protests even louder and shriller as she finds she can barely move a finger. Nothing is going to prevent the unthinkable from happening. Padmé casts her eyes down beyond her struggling legs, beyond the intensely green arms and oinking faces; she scans whatever patches of sky she sees and hopes for a craft coming to her rescue. Anakin and his master Obi-Wan must see through the Force where she is.

In her extreme state of panic, she's forgetting that Anakin and his master have both been injured, by Dooku himself, during the battle on Geonosis and that Master Yoda, Master Windu and the Jedi Council have more pressing matters on their hands. No one's coming to save her.

"Oiink! Oiiink! Hrrngg ooiinkhh!" Garffh utters through his snout as he grabs the front of Padmé's tunic and rips it apart in a show of incredible strength, and Padmé's moving bra cups dance amid the moving mass of green hands and tusk-showing faces as she desperately writhes and struggles in their arms under their aroused oinks.

"Aaaahh, naaooo! Noooo! Nnoooo!"

She's terrified, panicking when Garffh takes hold of her brown elastic bra and savagely tears it off, his porcine eyes lighting up with joy; flows of slobber are dripping down his tusk-showing mouth as Padmé's handfull-size boobs are fully exposed under the avid snouts of the Gamorreans, who begin fighting and punching among themselves to see who will be allowed to stoop down and sniff this human pair of female tits.

As the question of breast-sniffing hierarchy is quickly settled by the two dominant warriors after him, Garffh single handedly keeps Padmé pinned on the table, holding her wrists together above her face as she shakes her head and pointlessly begs him to stop, further arousing herself, while he stoops down and takes sickening licks on her alluring boobs, covering them with his thick slobber and getting turned on by the imprint from her nipples on his tongue when he presses it on her delightful dunes of flesh. Human women are always fascinating to explore. Garffh senses her extreme arousal under the layer of her shame and terror. He loves this; he's never touched a pair of boobs so soft and firm at the same time; he can't wait to see how her pussy will feel like.

Gnarrfh oinks and growls impatiently, calling back his subordinates and telling them to stop their pointless bickering. This human girl looks tough and there will be enough of her for each and everyone of them.

The two dominant ones take Padmé's arms and immediately stoop down and start sucking and licking her tits, while Garffh takes her black trousers and pulls them all the way down her legs. The lesser warriors help him in removing her trousers along with her long boots, leaving her naked under her wide-open tunic. Her screaming only intensifies the urgency of their assaults. Dooku keenly watches them undress the former Queen of Naboo, who's presently whimpering from the unstoppable excitement she gets from feeling their humanoid gazes on her profaned private parts as they keep kneading and licking her tits with oinks and grunts of unreal satisfaction and disbelief; Gamorreans never get access to such a fine specimen of human girl.

With another loud and deep-felt oink, Garffh props her legs up and rests them on his thick shoulders as he plunges his snout face down on Padmé's delicate bush of dark hair; he presently kisses her triangular carpet with oinking bliss while she feels an explosion of wet arousal from the sensation of his snout on her lower tummy. He loves it so much when a human woman has hair down there; the hairier, the merrier! This girl does have a beautiful twat; Garffh sniffs it ravenously with his oink-emitting snout, while Padmé starts moaning amid the resistance she's still putting up only to arouse herself more and give them extra entertainment; Gamorreans always love a good fight.

Garffh emits a series of weird-sounding grunts, indicating he's got a hard-on pushing the front of his stinking fur skirt. He plunges his snout and presses it on Padmé's hairy cunt while his tongue darts out and pushes its way between her folds, making Padmé bolt and scream her blissful disbelief as she realizes that she's being given a cunnnilingus by Gamorreans, which is the closest she ever got from getting gang-fucked by Gungans.

She keeps screaming, "Noo!" and this only arouses to an extreme degree; she's forbidding her body to enjoy the ordeal, but it's no use. Her sense of honour and morality is overrun by the primal sensations she gets from Garffh and his tongue inside her pussy. From the way it brushes her clit, she feels that this is not the first time he does this to a human. The Gungan she once secretly let inside her bedroom, after young Obi-Wan Kenobi, proved quite clumsy in this; well, Jar-Jar-Binks was always a clumsy one and certainly not the best sexual partner, but he was Gungan and available, and he had an incredibly large dick that she immensely enjoyed to suck off while holding it with both hands. She will never forget the massive shots of blue-grey semen she got from Jar-Jar when he growled and howled! Epic!

Under the thinning veneer of her conscious reaction of shame and disgust, Padmé is losing it as her body rebells and wins. Garffh is giving her something she never expected from a Gamorrean; she thought they were gross and unrefined and brutal and vulgar; they were all that, except they were more refined than their looks would lead one to think. She was now moaning like crazy, giving Dooku a good laugh as two Gamorreans were sucking her swollen breasts, pressing their snouts on her yielding firmness while Garffh kept relentlessly pleasuring her down south, with his oinking snout pressed on her hairy twat.

Garffh keeps at it until she bolts on the table, under their adoring ministrations and tongue strokes; she bolts and yells, "Oh, my! My, my, my! Naboo! Naboo's taken! Taken! The Queeeeen tooo! The Queeeeen tooo!" What began with a loud yell finishes with a long-winded howl when she shakes and shivers in their green arms, taken by a rolling bonfire of tiny bombs that detonate inside her; myriads of orgasmic bombs that all go off as she howls, "The Queeeeen tooo!"

Garffh rises up, his snout covered with an interstellar mixture formed by his snot and her juices. He utters a quick series of satisfied oinks as he swiftly undoes his big belt and drops the thick fur from around his hips and upper thighs. Padmé is hit with the offensive stench as the filthy garments drop down on the ceramic floor at Garffh's sandaled feet.

He stands tall and proud in front of Padmé, between her legs, and she screams with panic at the sight of his green erection, looking at it with saucer-wide eyes. Everything about Gamorreans is thick and robust.

Dooku will never forget the shreik Padmé utters right now as Garffh pushes his huge cock inside her horny cunt while his subordinates keep their wicked hold on her as she shakes her head and screams her disbelief. "Nooooo! Nooooooo! Nooo, this isn't possible! Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!"

Even the R2 droid looks shocked by the scene from the way it beeps. The droid sounds a bit like someone worried for a friend. Padmé has a knack for making new friends.

Garffh utters a series of loud oinks as he begins to drill Padmé, giving her the strong benefit of his big toy as her tight glove grips him and her pussy stretches and adapts to the horribly large invader. All the Gamorreans around her are oinking with overexcitement. The grunting, oinking warriors restrain her tightly, forcing her to passively take Garffh inside her as she frantically shakes her head in her final moment of moral resistance. Garffh gleefull holds the slender fullness of her bright white thighs with his squat arms, and he takes a galactic delight in pounding her with all his heaviness and love behind each and every stroke of his thick trunk; former Queen Amidala finally got the brutal gang-fuck she's always secretely longed for.

Garffh is three times her weight. He thoroughly shakes her, oinking intensely as he rocks her back and forth in their arms, her head bobbing and her breasts jiggling in Tatooine's bright daylight, under the awning that casts a thin shadow that only intensifies Padmé's whiteness of flesh against the greenness of the Gamorreans.

They love to watch how her pretty face keeps bobbing from the brutal force from Garffh's repeated strokes as she whimpers and her aroused body forces her to abandon herself in their arms, which further feeds her forced pleasure. She suddenly bolts and moans hard under this savage, relentless pounding while Gamorreans hold her, sniff her loose hair, put their hands on her moving breasts, or simply grunt their appreciation for her naked beauty, only veiled by the wide-open curtains of her torn tunic, while she keeps being tossed and buffeted with her butt barely brushing the tabletop as they keep her in their arms, loving every second of her rape and every inch of her.

The sensation she gets from being held in their arms without any of her touching the ground proves enough to generate a strong bang deep within her; she once again bolts in their arms, moaning loud, shaking all over as she utters, "Brokenwing! Brokenwing! Aaaaahhh aaaaaaa aaaaa AAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaa..."

Hearing such a strong orgasm, in addition to the extreme pleasure he gets from all of her, Garffh blissfully passes his edge and rams himself deep, deep inside Padmé and utters an exploding series of, "OIINK! OOIINK! OIIINKKH HHOOOOIIINNKKHHGH!!!"

The Gamorrean leader dumps an unbelievably massive load of sludge inside Padmé, consumating their interstellar encounter.

As he pulls out his monstrous cock, he spurts out one final rope of cum, which beautifully splatters Padmé's tummy, just above her hairy bush. It is the whitest cream Padmé has ever seen. It's so white that it seems to suck all the surrounding light. It feels as if she just got a splash from the whitest snow from a mountain top on Naboo, except it's steaming hot and glistens under Tatooine's suns.

She rests her head on Gamorrean arms and she remains panting, sweating and overwhelmed by their offensive musk. She's sweating all over; pearls of sweat cover her swollen tits, presently licked by one Gamorrean who makes eye contact with her and grunts like someone cheerfully laughing; he clearly likes her salty taste. Water is a precious commodity on Tatooine; more Gamorrean tongues lick off that sweat off her tits; they lick her face too. She becomes more cooperative as she finds they touch her more gently when she asks them to.

One of the taller, dominant warriors presently walks between her legs; he's naked from the waist down, and the sight of his prodigiously big and long dick makes Padmé shiver with a mix of terror and deeply felt arousal.

This one Gamorrean is a foot lover. As they hold her for him, he has her yelping with surprise as she takes his impossible size inside her, while he props her legs up and takes a firm hold on her ankles as he begins to violate her. He rests her feet against his shoulders as he starts oinking and grunting as the pressure increases.

Padmé will never forget the sensation from the soles of her feet resting against the coarse leather of his armour as he bangs her and takes his pleasure. It feels as if the Gamorrean's armour irradiates with sensual power that connects through the tenderness of her feet and then courses throughout her legs to gather in her core until it forms a ball that fills up until it bursts, causing her to bolt and scream, "Brokenwing! Brokenwing!" as the strong Gamorrean keeps her ankles as willing prisoners in his grip.

She experiences a rolling fire of three, perhaps four rapid-fire orgasms from all the adrenaline coursing through her veins, and also from the drug in the bantha coffee she drank with her breakfast. The grunting warrior keeps fucking her while holding her ankles; her body now loves his touch; it loves the way she's being dominated; it loves the way they hold her arms above her bobbing head with her wrists together, her arms still covered by the wide sleeves of what remains of her torn tunic from Naboo; they are gang-raping her in what makes her intensely think of the battle aftermath she's always dreamed of; an aftermath with her on the losing side.

The dominating Gamorrean presently takes her dainty feet up against his snout; he sniffs and licks them, tickling her and forcing her to laugh as she receives his final strokes, then a deluge of hot semen as he blissfully oinks and grunts his epic relief.

Dooku is enjoying the show, masturbating. Having Padmé Gamorreaned is so much fun! The lower ranked Gamorreans also masturbate as they eagerly wait their turn.

(To be continued)