Title: Dancer
“Atleast the music is good.” “Don’t talk to me.” Looking over at the red head, Nova smiled bashfully. “Sorry, Mara. I appreciate all you’ve done. And I’m very sorry we both ended up here.” Her delicate features relaxed alittle as she sighed, not looking at the other woman. “Well… things should have turned out better.” Nova couldn’t agree more. No Jedi should be in this predicament. Looking down, she tried again, out of habit, to readjust her new cloths to cover… something… anything. The master of the establishment preferred his slaves in the proper attire which, to her, was inappropriate for everywhere but the bedroom. Hers was made mainly of blue cotton strips and beads as dark and light as her own eyes. Mara had atleast gotten cloths that would not reveal everything she had when she moved. What was chosen for Mara was skin-tight red-gold leather that matched her riotous hair and had green jewels sewed into the material which made light dance over her with every motion. This fiasco was now near the top of her list of Galaxy’s Worst Missions. But, atleast she had been left unaccosted so far. Mara, too… but she had an idea that the other woman scared their new ‘master’. That, and there was no short supply of slaves or people wanting to be under his ‘care’. Since her capture two weeks ago, there had been eight new additions to master’s harem. Including Mara who had come at Luke’s behest to pay for Nova’s return. The woman understood now, that it was enough for him just to have two prestigious women displayed for all to see. It was simple, really. She had come to speak with Juraal nah Coysa about releasing a woman who was under his care so she could be allowed to become a Jedi. Sounded odd but on this planet, masters and slaves were so common place that no one thought differently of it. Not many knew what a Jedi was, either… all they knew was both she and Mara were both on the holovid quite a bit. The women had become quite the conversation piece. Nova cut her eyes to him and quirked her lips. This particular male was not bad to look upon which was probably why he was so popular. And, from what she had seen, he not only treated his slaves well but seemed genuinely fond of many of them. His only crime was being too pompous… and kidnapping, but that was commonplace here, too. He also had a pension for both female and male slaves. What he did with the males was his business but the men, all handsome in feminine ways, were as scantily dressed as Nova and Mara. Despite the words ‘master’ and ‘slave’… the world they were on was a peaceful one and this niche in particular was a happy, joyous one. She made another face. Behind them were the Ysalamiri, the Force-repelling creatures from Myrkyr, that would not let the women use that particular means of escape. Nova had no clue where he’d gotten them but he had enough spread about to make an impressive menagerie. Probably just another pretty thing that brought him and his group simple joy. Down the steps to the wide, clean arena, Nova watched as a fresh singer came up and the rhythmic music that played almost constantly started a new tempo. She liked this one. At first her voice seemed odd but it didn’t take long before her vocals came to be a favorite of hers. “She’s still terribly annoying”, Jade stated as though hearing Nova’s thoughts. Nova laughed. Unfortunately, the merry sound caught Juraal’s attention and he turned to her, perusing her body and smiling. The man reminded her of Luke in the oddest way. His hair was a lighter shade of blonde and longer… his eyes were green and his skin was an off shade of a human sect that had been separated from its main bulk for too long. It must have been that sexual energy he exuded all the time… Luke reserved his and released it only when it was time. Luke was a master of many things… the one that thrill Nova the most was that he was master of himself. Juraal leaned over to say something to her but a bell sounded off at the door. Everyone stopped their goings on and turned to the now open portal. A man of the business type bowed to Juraal and announced a new applicant for position of slave. A male dancer that he thought would make a fine addition to the master’s pets. Juraal smiled and leaned back, waving to the male to bring in the new comer. Nova stretched to see who it was and caught sight of him as he eased into the room. Every step was grace and he flowed more than walked. As many of the slaves did, he wore a mask that covered his upper face but that did not detract from his allure. He wore silver bands on his arms and legs and delicate chains around his muscular belly. A skirt hung low on his narrow hips and flared out to mid-thigh showing off a slit on both sides that ran all the way up to his hip. Nova realized it was one piece of cloth trapped between his legs and tied at the waist to make the appearance of clothing. Sweeping tattoos decorated his body in colors of blues, blacks, purples and reds, marking his creamy skin from the tips of his toes to disappear under his feathered mask. Jet black hair, teased with purple highlights tumbled to his shoulder and lay in sprigs down his face. He was the embodiment of male erotica. “You’re married, Dream”, Mara hissed, her eyes not leaving the man. He stepped to the center of the chamber, posing himself. Head down, one leg before the other which was propped on the tips of its toes, arms out slightly and fingers flared out. Juraal shifted and leaned forward, his hungry gaze on his newest prize. He jerked his chin and a rhythm set itself off. It was one of those rhythms that usually found the group later in the evening… dark, pulsing, deep, sweeping… Nova often found herself swaying with it, thinking of sweeter days with her mate. The male, center of everyone’s attention, parted his lips as his body rose softly, lowered back then up again. The moment another man’s deep, fast vocals called out to the sound, the male spun, the silver chains and skirt, which had strands off beads tied into the cloth, arched out in a dance of their own. The beat had a double stanza… fast, slow, fast, slow… it would merge, separate and merge again. Someone in back shouted a quick sound that melted into the music and he punctuated each ending stanza of the singer. The music was natural and magic and the dancer mated himself to it. His dance flowed with the music, chest lifting to show off the tightly coiled muscles of his abdomen, arms curling like a serpent. He posed again, arms in the air but it was his hips that took the dance, his left hip punching the air as his back slowly relaxed, making it look as though he would lay down for the crowd. When the rhythm changed back to a faster pulse, he spun to show his sculpted back and he bent his knees, circling his hips and arching his back to show off the flesh of his buttocks. Nova saw Juraal grip the arm of his chair, eyes locked on the dancer. She had been there long enough to know he appreciated those who were blessed with flexible bodies. Mara glanced at her, more alert than she. Nova realized that, like most of the people here, she was so involved in the male’s dance that she had lost reality for a few moments. He leapt in the air and spun and Nova was lost again. He landed on all fours, arching and displaying every muscle he had, like a beast offering himself to the moons. He spun out and turned his back again, and with the newer more rapid beat, he began kicking his hips back and forth, toes barely leaving the floor and his shoulders jerking in time. The ‘skirt’ he wore had been exercised back enough to reveal his bare thighs up to his naked waist. Only his manhood was saved from view by all those gathered. His arm shot up and the music slowed, his body slithering threw the air like a wave of supple flesh, turning slowly to give a view of each of his sides as he performed each new move. Upon coming to face Juraal, the dancer rolled his shoulder and contracted certain muscles that made the viewer witness the light reflecting off one shoulder, one peck, the next and then the other shoulder. It also brought one’s attention to his hardened nipples, one painted, the other a natural dusky pink. Nova felt a hand clamp down on her mouth and she was yanked away without a sound, her only sight that of Mara being grabbed just as unceremoniously. The newest slave and all those that were so enthralled by him took no notice. His dance continued as the music pounded on. The base beating through his flesh as he danced and spun for a man he should despise. He fell to the floor on one knee then spun and landed on his hands and knees before Juraal, head bowed. The music stopped. Juraal straightened and clapped. “Reveal your face, young man!” Taking the mask from his face, he revealed a pleased expression. Blue, purple and black butterfly wings were painted over his eyes, ice blue eyes that missed nothing. No one would recognize his true identity. Not even his wife. The casting aside of the mask had revealed the calm face of Luke Skywalker.
**** “Luke?” Nova shouted. “He’s here? Where?!” Han, dressed in the black trousers and shirt of a businessman, urged Nova along, his step quick. “He’s around. Doing his thing. It was just up to us to get you to the ship, sweetheart.” Mara was walking ahead of Lando Calrissian, also dressed as a business caretaker for one of the many masters of these lands. He had his blaster out and was scanning the area with keen eyes. “You feel anything yet, Mara?” called Nova, now jogging beside Han, also looking around the back alley they had snuck into. “No.” Han looked over. “Feel what?” “Juraal has Ysalamiri.” The whole group stopped, making Mara skid to a halt. “What? Ysalamiri?” Han asked, his eyes wide. “Now’s a great time to tell us.” Mara's brow crinkled. "Well, how else do you think they'd keep us there?" Nova ignored her and asked quickly, “Was Luke there?” Han’s handsome face sneered as he grabbed up his comm link. “Kid?” “Here!” came the response. “We need to get going. I’ve got TyElla.” The group took off at a run full tilt, the Force-bubble disappearing not too long before they came to the place where they had landed the Falcon. Nova grinned and her legs pumped harder, her arm protecting her breasts from being viewed. Luke was aboard the ship. She could feel his sorely missed presence like a thirsting woman missed water. Into the ship, which Chewie already had started, the group breathed a sigh of relief. There wasn’t much danger here but two Jedi had gotten missing and that was enough to have them hightail it back home. Authorities could, no doubt, handle the rest. The men were all in the front, buckled in, leaving Mara and Nova to stay behind and make sure the would-be student, TyElla, was secured and well. They were in hyperspace before they knew it and Nova let out a sigh, looking down at her dress. “I’ll be in the back getting one of Han’s shirts.” Mara watched her go and sat down to speak to TyElla. She saw Luke walk by, covered top to bottom in his Jedi robes, but not caring to take much notice. What she did notice was a tiny information chip for holo-use sitting on the table beside her. The red head frowned as she read the title. ‘Introduction to Seductive Dancing’
*** Holding up a white top, Nova frowned. Most of Han’s shirts only went to the bend of her hip. Not good enough to cover what she had showing. The doors open and she turned reflexively. It was pure glee she had on her face as she jumped on the bunk and bounced off to land in Luke’s arms. “Oh, baby! I missed you so, so, so much!” She kissed his lips and held him tighter than necessary. He didn’t seem to notice as his strong arms curled around her protectively. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” “No. I’m fine. I‘m fine. I missed you so-“ Luke smiled at her puzzled expression. He let her push his hood back to reveal the butterfly wings and archs painted over his face, his dyed hair longer now that it was straightened and weighed down by violet paints. Nova realized her expression was one of astonishment but she couldn’t help it. She tugged the robes open carefully and, beneath, were the curls of tattoos, belly chains and skimpy loincloth. “You were the dancer?” His painted lips smiled and he nodded. “Security is very tight against outsiders. I tried for days to get in any other way. And Leia insisted I find a mild way to do it. It was Lando’s idea. And Han wouldn’t do it.” Luke laughed. “Will you stop looking at me that way?” Her blue eyes where wide and her lips parted, her brain slowed by shock. “Well, it’s not every day you find out your mate has lied to you.” “Lied?” ”You said you couldn’t dance.” She could barely see the blush under the paint but she knew it was there. “Well. Let’s never speak of this again, Nova. Okay?” “No.” He looked at her questioningly. She smiled and brought him closer to kiss his lips tenderly. “Let’s speak of it often.”
~CATWILLOW~
~JADE BLOOD~
~ARWEN~
~JASMINE STORM~
~SCI-FI FREAK~
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