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If I Had You

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Sometimes Anakin thought back to his days on Tatooine. When he was just a kid working in a repair shop with all his big dreams and aspirations. Back then, he had plans of becoming a pilot and earning enough money to free himself and his mother. He had loved building things, fixing things. Getting his hands dirty with hyperdrive oil. Knowing he could bring life to the galaxy in little ways.

Now, looking back on how hopeful he was for that future, Anakin found it very silly. If his younger self could see what he became now, he would be horrified.

Anakin paced around behind the thick black curtain. It was cold. He wore a black jock strap with a transparent sash in front that reached past his knees. His wrists, biceps, ankles, and thighs bore sparkly golden bracelets. Around his neck were several golden and silver chains. His face was smeared with smudged black eyeliner and just a pinch of salmon-pink lipstick, as well as a light layer of glitter coating his bare skin. Anakin knew how gorgeous he looked and he hated it.

The announcer's voice soared from the front of the stage.

"And now, introducing the dancer you've all been waiting for....Star Angel!"

He closed his eyes, let out a small sigh, and stepped out onto the stage as the curtains parted for him. His stage name had been chosen by his master when he was sold to this place. When he was twelve, Watto had to sell Anakin and his mother to pay off some big debts he got into when some bets at the races did not turn out in his favor. Anakin and Shmi were bought by a wealthy businessman on the Corellia system who owned a lot of indoor gardens, and they worked as laborers there for a while. As Anakin grew older, his new master and his business partners began to notice the boy was fleshing out to become quite an attractive specimen. The Tatooine suns had given him a permanent beautiful tan, and his golden-brown hair had just the right amount of curls. Not to mention his bright blue eyes. By the time he was in his late teens, Anakin was painfully aware that having good looks did not bring fortune to a slave. That his nice face and strong, lean body would be his own curse.

And his own fears were realized when, the moment he turned eighteen, his master sold him for a pretty penny to a strip club on upper-level Coruscant that also doubled as a brothel for customers who could afford it. Just like that, he went from pulling weeds and shoveling dirt to being dolled up, bathed in perfumes, and put on a stage to dance for the richest people in the star system. And of course, now and then, he had to go sexually service a client. At first his new owner tried to preserve his virginity to rank up his value, but eventually cost-effectiveness wore out and it became more profitable to let customers fuck him. Luckily this did not happen too often for Anakin, once or twice a week on average.

'Star Angel,' as he was called, started swinging his hips to the rhythm of the heavy bass song playing on the speakers. He tilted his head back, eyes cast up to the lights shining down on him. The crowd cheered and whistled at him. Everyone who was a regular here fit the exact same type - rich fat cats whose marital spouses did not please them and decided that fucking a stranger would make their spoiled, miserable lives a little easier to handle. People who owned entire star systems and walked in thinking they could own your body too. Same type over and over.

Anakin knew exactly what to do to make the tips roll in. Make his owner pleased with him. As the song's sultry chorus started he stripped off the transparent garment and used it as a scarf, caressing his body with it, then turning around and shaking his bare ass for the crowd.

His next part of the dance involved moving down the catwalk, groping his own crotch and running his fingers through his hair as his jock strap was stuffed with tips. During this part of the dance he got a better look at all the customers in the large room, even when the lights blinded him. This place was most popular for Humans but there were a few non-Human sentient species in the crowd tonight as well, all drinking expensive cocktails and having a good time. Anakin caressed his chest for them and thrust his hips out, knowing where all their eyes were. He was used to it by now. The dance went on for a few more minutes as he moved down the other length of the catwalk, letting the tips roll in.

Afterwards, Anakin had a few minutes to go backstage and have a drink of water. He ignored the other dancers getting ready, preferring to find a back corner with a vacant chair. Not all of the dancers were slaves, and got to keep all the tip money they made each night. This made slaves like Anakin deeply envy them, while the dancers looked down on the slaves as potential threats to their job if they got too much attention. All in all it made the workplace quite miserable. But then again since when had Anakin ever been in a workplace he actually liked.

His break, unfortunately, was cut short by one of the bouncers, who all kept things in line at the club. Mostly that meant keeping customers from getting handsy without paying first, or giving some dancers drugs when the stress of the job was too overwhelming.

"You, Star Angel, you're wanted upstairs. Room nine. Male." The bouncer held out two pills in his open palm. It was not optional.

Anakin sighed. That meant he had been booked by a client already. Room Nine was for customers who had reserved the entire night. He did, though, find it a little amusing that when he was about to service a client the only description he was given was their gender. Not their fetishes, their level of sadism, nope, none of that was important.

"Yes, sir..." He got up, took the pills, finished his drink of water, and walked upstairs. By the time he reached the door Anakin was trembling. Instead of tossing the pills away as he usually did, he swallowed both pills. They would help ease his nerves, make it easier to flirt and do whatever the client wanted. Anakin opened the door, prepared to see yet another rich man with slicked back hair and a fancy suit, probably holding cuffs or a crop or some other device.

He certainly wasn't expecting who he saw instead.

His 'client' was, first of all, not a Human, but a Duros. He was not dressed like a wealthy man either. Instead he had a dirty leather duster and a wide-brimmed hat. Anakin stared, taking in the skinny leather pants, the wrist gauntlets, and the blasters. The Duros man was reclining in the big armchair of the room, smoking a cigarette, a small glass of whiskey on the small table beside him.

As the realization kicked in, Anakin backed up to the door in alarm. This man was a criminal. An outlaw.

"Star Angel. That's what they call you, right?" the man asked. His voice was deeper than Anakin expected it to be. He had breathing tubes attached to his cheeks that went around to the back of his neck.

Anakin's mouth was dry. He swallowed hard.

"Yes, sir." Luckily, the pills were starting to kick in and Anakin began with the monologue he was obligated to start every session with, and had memorized by heart years ago. "Nothing is off limits save for anything that will cause permanent scarring. All the tools and toys at your disposal are in the wardrobe there. I am tested every three weeks but there are condoms as well if--"

"Wait." He held his hand up. "Do they own you here or are you free?"

"I'm sorry, sir?" Anakin blinked. No client had ever asked this before.

"Do they own you?" the Duros repeated.

Anakin did not know how to answer. Was this a trick? Should he lie and say that he worked here and kept the tips like the other free dancers? But before he could stop himself, the truth spilled out.

"Yes, sir. I'm a slave."

"I see..." The Duros took a long drag on his cigarette. "I don't like slave owners."

Anakin just blinked again. All he could think was So what? It's not like one outlaw's opinion on the issue of slavery would do Anakin's situation any good.

"Here, you look tired. Get on the bed," he said quietly.

Anakin obeyed without hesitation. As he got on the bed he crawled onto all fours in a position that most all clients enjoyed seeing him in.

"How would you like me to please you, sir?" he asked, his mind dulled from the pills by now. His only motivation being to make the client as happy as possible so he wouldn't get in trouble and so he could just get a few hours' sleep when they were done.

"I don't want anything like that from you," the Duros answered.


"Here's a question." He leaned forward in his chair until he was looking directly at Anakin. "Are you good at keeping secrets?"

Now the pills weren't doing shit for him. Anakin had no idea what was going on. What was he supposed to do? If he hadn't been reserved all night for sex, then what for? A bit of panic began to rise up in him as he thought of all sorts of other horrible things people rented out slaves for. Things that wouldn't lessen his value as a dancer but that his owner would have no problem with subjecting him to. Oh, gods, what was going to happen to him...?

His rising panic must have been painted all over his face because the Duros raised his hand again. This time his fingertips, which were oddly smooth, brushed Anakin's shoulder.

"Relax. You're fine. I'm not one of those freaks. But you didn't answer my question. Are you good at keeping secrets?"

"Y-yes, sir. I can keep secrets. I can do anything you want me to," Anakin blurted out.

"Good. Then I'm going to tell you what happened tonight." The Duros' large, red eyes were locked on his. "I reserved you the whole night for sex. I fucked you the whole time. I never left the room and you did not hear anything out of the ordinary coming from the other rooms."

"Our walls are soundproof," Anakin interjected. "But, what do you mean, sir? I'm sorry, I don't--"

"Now tell me what happened tonight."

Now Anakin just felt hopelessly confused. But he answered the question the way he figured he was supposed to.

"You fucked me all night. You never left the room. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Good." He stood up. "Stay here." He walked over to the door.

"Sir? Where are you going? What do you want me to do?"

"I'll be back in about an hour. I ordered food and drinks already so help yourself."

"But I...oh." Anakin stared at the door the Duros had shut behind him. Well, this is different. And awkward. He sat on the bed, hugging himself, his mind racing as he wondered what to do now. No way he was going to eat or drink anything as that was probably just a test that he would get punished for if he failed. He did however end up getting under the covers to warm up. The pillow felt very soft and he didn't realize how exhausted he was until he decided to rest his eyes for a bit.

He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until the sound of the door opening woke him right up. The Duros outlaw had returned. Anakin quickly sat up. The drugs had all worn off.

"Sorry, sir! I fell asleep. I was just so tired."

"No apologies necessary. You must have needed it," the Duros grunted as he took a seat in the armchair again. "Besides, it'll make your alibi more believable."

"If I may ask, sir..."

"Just simple bounty hunter's work. And you are helping me cover my tracks." He looked at him and smiled a little. "Oh, and for fuck's sake, no need to call me sir. It's annoying."

Anakin suddenly realized what had just happened.

"Oh, I see. Well, I think that's pretty clever what you did. Especially booking a room for the whole night. Nice touch." Anakin couldn't help but smile a bit. "So, am I allowed to ask...what sort of bounty hunting work? Did you steal?”

"Nah. Took someone out."


The Duros gave him a long, good look, possibly evaluating if he could share this information with a slave boy. Anakin sensed his hesitation and leaned towards him eagerly.

"I can keep secrets, sir. I've never misbehaved under my current owner so he won't look to me if he senses anything suspicious. I swear it."

In response, the Duros put out his cigarette and lit a new one, then took a long sip from his glass of whiskey. Anakin found his gaze lingering on the leather duster. He had never had a client who dressed or acted this way before. It was interesting. No...enticing.

"Juun Iitor," he finally said. "He's been causing my client a lot of financial woes."

"What? You're kidding." Anakin found himself smiling. "I hate that guy. He's a regular here and he's disgusting. All the other slaves hate him and the things he makes us do."

"Well in that case, you're welcome." He grinned and lifted his drink.

"Did he die painlessly?" Anakin had to ask, almost startled by how much he hoped the outlaw would say No.

"A wire around the neck is not a painless way to die.”

"Good! Oh, that's the best news I've heard. He was such a creep." Anakin was still grinning.

The Duros leaned back in his chair again, glancing around the room curiously. Now Anakin didn't see him as someone dangerous, but someone who had just saved him from pain and humiliation in the future. Juun Iitor had been notorious for pushing slaves past their limit, causing pain on the brink of torturing them, and making his friends watch. The worst had been when he nearly drowned Anakin then gave him a very painful and embarrassing enema. He had definitely been Anakin's least favorite regular. And now, thanks to this odd stranger, he was dead. Anakin couldn't believe his luck!

"Well, I'm staying here all night so now we got to kill time," the Duros said, glancing at him. "If you want more sleep, now would be a good time to catch up on it."

Anakin suddenly thought of something and he bolted upright.

"Wait a second. What if they search the room for evidence that we, you know, fucked? If they can't find any, they might not buy your alibi." Anakin looked at him. "Doesn't it make sense to leave evidence, just in case?"

"But you're a slave. It's not right." The Duros frowned, his grip on his cocktail glass tightening a bit.

"No, it's okay. I'm...okay with it." Anakin looked at the floor. "I know you just did it because you were hired to but you just got rid of a very horrible person who hurt me and other slaves for the fun of it. And I'm grateful for that." He moved closer towards the outlaw. "I wouldn't like to see you get caught and if I can help make sure you escape tomorrow, I'm okay with it."

"You sure?"

"Yes," Anakin said without hesitation. "I want this. Now that I know why you really came here. Reserved this room, I mean."

They locked eyes again for a while. He saw the way the Duros spread his legs a bit in the armchair and set down the glass. He could feel it; this outlaw wanted him. He hated slavery and the idea of fucking someone without consent repulsed him, but he wanted this as much as Anakin did. It had been so long since Anakin had been sexually drawn to somebody who wasn't in a holofilm or on a poster in so long that it was almost overwhelming.

"Okay. Do you want a drink or something?" He gestured to the minibar behind him.

"I'm okay." Anakin smiled a bit and knelt in front of the man. "Is there a name I can call you?"

"You can call me Bane."

"Bane...I like that name." Anakin put his hands on the man's thighs and leaned forward, pressing his nose against his crotch. He was so excited to spend the night with someone he wanted. "I'll be honest, I have never been with a Duros before..."

"That's okay." Bane watched him, biting his bottom lip. Anakin kissed his crotch a few times, caressing his thighs. By the time he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants a bit Bane was semi-hard.

"Oh,'re big." Anakin said that a lot to customers with average-sized cocks to boost their ego, but he meant it this time. He took several moments to study it, how the head was a slightly different shape than a Human cock and had small ridges towards the base. He gripped the base and licked up his shaft.

Bane leaned back in the chair.

"Do you enjoy doing this?"

"Sometimes, yes. I'm very good at it." Anakin looked up at him as he gently put the head of Bane's cock in his mouth. It only took him a few seconds to suck on him and work over half his cock down Anakin's throat. He knew exactly how to make all the right noises that drove his clients crazy with lust.

Bane moaned lightly and arched his back. He gently held the back of Anakin's head, watching as the young Human male went down on him.

"What is your name?" he whispered. "Not your stage name. Your name."

He pulled Bane's cock out of his mouth with a satisfying 'pop' sound.


"Anakin...pretty name. Let's move this to the bed now." He stood up and kicked off his pants, then worked on stripping off his duster and the tunic underneath. "I mean, when was the last time a customer made you feel good?"

"Is that a trick question?" Anakin laughed, wiping his mouth. But he got on the bed, trembling a bit with excitement. What did Bane mean by that...?

He soon found out. He had barely gotten on all fours when he felt Bane wrap one arm over his chest, pulling him close. Bane kissed the back of his neck, moving his other hand down to cup Anakin's crotch. He moaned a bit.


"I hate slavery. I think it's vile. I think at the least you deserve to have a night you actually enjoy." Bane tore off the jock strap and began stroking him to full erection. Anakin had several cock and ball piercings, something his owner had decided would make him more appealing to enough customers. Bane lightly traced these with his fingertips.

"Wow, you really saved my night, huh?" Anakin laughed, unable to believe how lucky he was tonight.

"Guess you could say that. Now...tell me what makes you feel good." Bane nibbled on his neck, still stroking him lightly.

"Fuck. Not used to answering that. Um...anal feels pretty good as long as I'm prepped and all. I like having my hair played with. And, uh, I've always wanted to be a pillow prince," he answered, blushing deeply. How crazy was this? Someone asking what he wanted in bed?

"Mmm, you'd make a good one. Go ahead and lie down."

Anakin obeyed quickly and rolled over on his back. He stared up at Bane, who he now saw was lean but muscular. He had a lot of scars on his chest and limbs. Anakin bit his lip. Of course, Bane was a criminal, so he must have been through a lot. Before Anakin could do anything else Bane was on top of him, kissing him deeply. His hands moved to Anakin's hips. He began kissing down Anakin's neck, to his pecs and stomach. Anakin laid back, not sure if he was supposed to do anything or just lay there and take it all in…

"How's that?" Bane whispered.

"Ah...good...feels real nice." Anakin held his hands above his head, growing warm with desire.

"Good..where's the lube?"

"In the drawer by the bed..." Anakin watched him with half-closed eyes as Bane grabbed the bottle and spread more than enough lube on his fingers. Anakin felt one finger slide into him and sighed longingly. It wasn't often that clients bothered to prep him or make sure he was lubed up enough; usually they just started fucking him without warning. So when Anakin felt Bane's finger curl inside him and hit his prostate, he let out a sharp cry of surprise and pleasure. "Oh, fuck!"

Bane grinned and nuzzled Anakin's neck as he worked a second finger inside him and curled them both. Anakin whimpered and arched his back, in utter bliss. He was finger-fucked a few more minutes as they both took relished in it, Anakin in being fucked only with his own pleasure in mind, and Bane watching the slave boy experience pleasure for the first time in far too long. Then Anakin felt him pull out only to watch him lube up his fully erect cock. He squirmed on the bed, his face flushed.

"You're good at that."

"Thank you." Bane smiled as he gently pushed himself partially inside him. He wrapped his arms around Anakin and held him close.

Anakin's eyes rolled and he clung to Bane tight. A couple drops of precum ran down his cock as Bane began thrusting into him. Slow and gentle at first, but the more Anakin adjusted the faster Bane moved. He dug his fingernails into Bane's back; he had always wanted to try that. Bane's loud groan of pleasure was the answer he needed as he dragged his nails down Bane's back. He buried his face against the crook of Bane's neck, inhaling his scent. He smelled of leather, cigarettes, hyperdrive oil, and something else...cinnamon? It drove Anakin crazy.

"Oh gods, Bane, fuck me...fuck me..."

"Do you want to cum?" Bane gripped Anakin's cock and began stroking him.

"Yes! Yes, please, I want to cum..." he whined. He closed his eyes, mouth hung open as he laid there, letting Bane pound into him as his cock was stroked quickly. He felt like he was melting into the bed, feeling waves of bliss in his body that hadn't been there in so long since he couldn't remember. Clients could make him cum but it was either purely a biological response or he was forced to for a show; most of them didn't care if he came or not. But this...he was not just being driven to cum, but Bane wanted him to…

It didn't take long for white ropes of cum to shoot out of Anakin's cock as he cried out loudly, tears flowing down his cheeks. Bane continued stroking him until Anakin finished, then pumped into his ass a few more times before he began filling Anakin with his own cum. Anakin stared up at the ceiling, breathing hard. When Bane finished he pulled out and laid down next to him on the bed. Anakin felt those long, smooth fingers brush his painted lips, then cup his chin and turn his face towards Bane.

"Did you enjoy that?"

"Oh gods, yes. You have no idea..." Anakin smiled.

"We still have the whole night, you know. I could go again in a bit if you want. Otherwise…”

"No, I'd like to. That was really good."

"Mmm, all right. Let me finish my drink and have a cigarette first." Bane brushed a lock of hair away from Anakin's face before he got up and headed to the table where he had left his cigarette pack.

Anakin got comfy on the bed as he watched the man smoke, convinced that somehow one of the gods of good fortune had granted him this night. And even though tonight had to come to an end eventually, he would forever be grateful.