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In a cold, dark room, Ahsoka hung suspended, held aloft by energized shackles, captured and taken offworld by Maul when separated from her Mandalorian allies during the siege. She seemed to be in an abandoned warehouse or hangar of some sort, though the only real light fell upon her and her captor, who she could see bent over a table with his back to her. Perhaps she was on one of Mandalore’s moons..?
Maul sensed her awaken, and spoke to her over his shoulder. “I shall ask only once-“
“I’ll never tell you anything,” Ahsoka growled through clenched teeth, staring him defiantly in the eyes as he turned to face her.
Her bold words drew from him a chuckle. He slowly approached and circled around her, hands behind his back. “I am aware, Ahsoka Tano. You have proven your defiance a thing to not be easily broken. But I wonder which of your foolish resolves serves as your strength. Is it your flawed sense of duty and honor, or is it...” he leaned forward from behind her, his soft voice and hot breath on her montral making her skin crawl as he concluded, “the prideful arrogance of the Jedi that you abandoned?”
She did not respond, did not move, only scowled at him.
“Ah, but I know that as a prior student of the Order, you have been trained to defend against traditional interrogation methods. And I’m afraid I haven’t the time it would take to break you in such a way... satisfying though it might be.”
He came around to her front, looking her in the eyes, then with the back of his gloved hand brushed down one of her front lekku slowly.
“But... I think... that there are some vital subjects... that the Order might not cover in their... teachings.”
It took her several moments to understand his meaning, and watching the contortions on her flushing face as she put it together made him grin.
“You can’t be serious-“ her indignant sneer was interrupted as a hand raised in front of her and locked her in a force choke. He allowed her to gag and writhe for seconds, feeling a perverse pleasure as he felt her pain begin to become fear and anger. He relished it a moment longer as her eyes rolled back for lack of oxygen and her strength began to falter, then he released her and removed his gloves.
Sputtering and gasping, she managed to snarl “you coward” as she met his gaze. He smirked, then cut off her air again. Tears quickly formed in her eyes.
As she writhed, Maul raised his free hand and slowly traced a line down her abdomen. Through her semi-conscious haze, she glared at him furiously.
The hatred rolling off her was exhilarating. “Your fury... so potent. So wasted on your loyalty to your Jedi friends.” He stroked her jaw liesurely, then pulled back before he released her and she wrenched, inhaling hoarsely and coughing.
“Despite your sharp tongue, you are surprisingly soft to the touch, Ahsoka,” he whispered, snaking a finger under the hem of her shirt and stroking the side of her abdomen. “I cannot remember... the last time I truly felt the softness of another being. At least not a being that I did not immediately crush beneath my fingertips...” he tightened a grip around her hipbone, digging sharp nails into her flesh.
He looked to her, waiting. She did not respond this time, only heaved as her lungs processed the needed oxygen, head turned from him. Tears streamed down her face, but she was silent.
“I can see why your old master held you in such high regard. You learn quickly.” He raised the back of his hand to her face and she flinched away expecting a blow but instead felt a light caress down her cheek, wiping away a trail of tears, and then fingers traced down her lekku.
She still refused to look at him as he leisurely dragged a single finger across her covered collarbone and up the center of her neck while his grip around her hip loosened. Heat radiated from him through her clothing.
“Have you ever felt the touch of a man... Lady Tano?” he asked in a whisper, his hand pausing on the zipper of her high-necked vest.
As her eyes locked with his, a rush of fear flooding her aura, he had his answer. “I admit that I have never had the company of another, either,” he continued, lowering the zipper only to the base of her neck and fiddling with it thoughtfully. “I have never had much interest in pursuing such base desires...” His twiddling paused, and he moved his body to only inches from her, studying her furious face for several moments before whispering “certainly, though, you are at least familiar with the basics..?”
“You have no righ-“ Ahsoka began to protest, cheeks hot, but was cut off suddenly as Maul moved forward, his lips covering hers, his hands curling around her hips.
It was not a violent kiss that forced her silence- but instead it was the tender softness in all points of contact that rendered her paralyzed.
Her whole body tensed, her eyes blinking rapidly, losing focus, and closing. He had only meant to disarm her momentarily, but he was surprised when she did not quickly wrench away. Intently studying her expression and the twitching of her muscles against him, he used one hand to lightly massage the tip of her back lekku, all the while his lips remaining still and softly planted on hers.
She felt her shock abating as he slowly pulled away, and her face flushed red with embarrassment at her own body’s inability to react as his gaze met hers with satisfaction. Furious, she wondered why a kiss from this terrible man had made her heart pound and stomach flutter. She felt nothing but disgust for Maul, and yet her body was reacting as though it craved his closeness.
He stared smirking into her eyes, needing say nothing.
Her fists clenched within the energy field of her shackles, and her teeth bared in a disgusted snarl, but words escaped her.
“Your expression almost has me convinced that you found that unpleasant. But I sense... that you are conflicted,” he concluded with a grin, both hands stroking her lower back.
“Not likely,” she retorted through gritted teeth, staring him in the eyes defiantly.
He paused. “You may be right, of course. Perhaps you will find this experience worse than death,” he said quietly after a moment. Then with a swift yank and force usage he ripped her shirt down the middle in the front and back, drawing from her a surprised yelp as its tattered remnants flew off each arm and over her shackles and fluttered to the floor.
Their eyes locked, and as she recoiled from the fire in his gaze he did enjoy her terror as he snarled, “what you fail to realize, my obstinate prisoner, is that in the end your feelings mean little.” He planted a single finger between her breasts, just above her breast wrappings, and pressed a claw into her flesh.
“If I cannot break your will, then I will break your body and your mind-“ he growled, reveling in her wide-eyed gaze, “- piece by tiny piece,” his finger curled to grip the tightly-wrapped fabric and pulled slowly downward, unimpeded by attempt to squirm away, “until you beg to be treated with a fraction of the kindness I am willing to show you now.”
The fabric let loose its contents and fluttered to the floor, leaving Ahsoka’s round breasts exposed to the cold air and Maul’s gaze. She could no longer suppress the trembling of her body, which contorted in her restraints to move away from him. Her legs clenched together, surely aware of Maul’s intentions.
Maul smiled, moving back behind her, stroking a hand across her arm as he did so. “I see you’re beginning to truly understand your situation. Let us continue, then.”
His hands slid around her sides and wrapped around her torso, then cupped and ran his fingers lightly around her breasts at a leisurely pace. After a moment, he lowered his flat palms and explored the rest of her chest, then traced down her ribs and across her toned and trained abdomen.
As a creature, he realized, she was an exquisite specimen. She would have been a coveted possession for her body alone. He felt the curvature of her hip bones and paused.
“Have you ever lusted for another, Ahsoka?” he whispered in her ear, pressing the warm, soft fabric of his shirtfront against her back and wrapping his arms firmly around her abdomen. She tensed.
“Mmmm...” he hummed deeply, feeling the stiffening of her muscles under his arms. “Did you love them? Do you still?”
The slightest quiver.
“Yet you are here, with me, and me alone. And they... have abandoned you. Or… have you abandoned them?”
His hands slid up her torso as he inhaled, firmly dragging his hands over her breasts and catching on her erect nipples.
“Mmnm!!” came a muffled whine from Ahsoka’s throat as Maul began to massage her breasts with his palms, dragging his skin across hers just where her sensitive parts throbbed.
He returned the sound with his own approving low, throaty hum. “Accept that you are too weak to resist me.”
She turned to him over her shoulder as though ready to protest again, but Maul simultaneously took one nipple in between two fingers and lightly pinched while taking her jaw in his other hand and pressing another kiss to her lips.
Thankfully for her, she did not hear the groan that escaped her, as all she could hear was what sounded like rushing water. Nor was she aware that her eyes had rolled into her head and her body gone limp. She was spared the memory as her mind went blank and flashes of invisible light distorted her vision.
Finding his once-fierce enemy quickly coming undone by such little effort, Maul felt his pulse quicken at the feeling of control.
The girl’s years with the strict Jedi Order had denied her any insight into her maturing body, and Maul had not been certain she would respond to his stimulation as a woman. However, her inexperience could not hide the natural sensuality of her sensitive form.
He released her jaw, but to his utmost surprise she did not pull away her craned neck, her face almost as red as his and still in the heat of temporarily losing her senses. He used the opportunity to deepen the kiss as he wrapped both hands around Ahsoka’s breasts, offering feather-light grazing of her nipples with his forefingers. Her eyes opened wide, her brain quickly sobering at the intense stimulation, but as she gasped and he slid his tongue inside her mouth she was lost to sensation once more.
Her body hungrily arched her back and pressed her breasts harder into his hands, and already her tongue had begun to dance with his, so he acquiesced to her nonverbal plea and held her roughly, kneading her nipples between his fingers.
A long, delicious groan from deep within her caused an unintentional guttural growl of his own. After a few heated moments, without breaking their kiss, he moved his right hand to her left breast, massaging and intermittently pricking her nipple with a nail, each time drawing from her a tiny, breathy whine.
His other hand inched downward, again taking its time to feel every crease in her musculature. Still, so surprisingly that Maul might think she were under a spell or drugged, Ahsoka had not broken their kiss, instead insistently leaning into it, breaking only for moments to gasp for air. To his great amusement and pleasure, her entire body suddenly trembled as he lightly bit her lip.
“Such a surprising creature,” he thought, feeling his own body radiating heat in response to sensations also new to him. The physical pleasure was a distraction that was difficult to ignore, and his body, so used to pain, urged him on as though the gentle stimulation was a salve on long-open wounds. The hot softness of her skin, the foreign intimacy and sweet taste of her curious tongue, the musical song of her body’s involuntary responses, the salty-sweet smell of her- all sensations ignited an animal lust buried long-forgotten in a life of ambition, violence, and loss. But a feeling quite less alien to him, the one his mind focused on that allowed him to remember his purpose, was the rush of satisfaction as he dominated his foe entirely, bringing her to her absolute most vulnerable point and at his mercy. On this power high, he felt a pleasure equal to that of sexual desire.
As his fingers came to the waist of her pants, she shrunk away, pausing her tongue’s movement and opening her eyes in a look of dazed plea. He pressed forward, but her protest was more insistent, and she finally, sloppily pulled away from the kiss, blinking sobriety into her eyes and instantly beginning to tear up as she realized what she was doing.
“P-please-“ she began, but was cut off as Maul held up a hand, lazily locking her in another force choke as with his other hand he continued to casually stimulate her nipple.
“Shhhhhh,” he whispered, stroking her neck lightly with his choking hand, “it is far too early for the great General Tano to be begging.” He chuckled. “Really... I expect more from a former Padawan of the Order. Where did that oh-so-endearing Jedi pride disappear to?”
He watched tears roll down her face as she drained of air and hope at the same time, waiting until the last moment of consciousness before offering relief. He released her, allowing her to gasp raggedly, and removed his shirt as he predatorily walked around to her front.
She did not meet his gaze, only stared half-lidded at the floor, her body limp but held still in the air by her restraints. She didn’t flinch away as he raised a hand and lifted her chin to look at him, already looking by all rights a broken prisoner. He knew better, though. That stubborn arrogance could be reignited in a moment. He was far from finished.
“But... it is not entirely your fault, Ahsoka. Your Jedi masters made you push your natural feelings deep, deep down inside, until your greatest weakness...” he moved ever so slowly forward, “became something so... so... simple.”
Their lips made contact again, and he pulled her back to arch, pressing his exposed torso against hers firmly, holding the side of her head gently with his other hand.
Her knees quaked, but to her credit, she did try to resist. She tried to shrink away, to turn her head, but Maul was right. This made her so weak. And when he felt her sobering for the slightest attempt at escape, Maul smirked, then lightly sunk his teeth into Ahsoka’s bottom lip.
That was all it took to flip that switch again, and her form crumpled against his, a long whine easily translated to simply mean “please.” He just grinned as he gnawed and sucked gently, denying her further stimulation for a few moments as he basked in his own easy victory. Then he took her mouth with fervor, lowering his hand to feel her throat’s vibrations as she groaned quietly into the kiss.
With his other hand, he slid three fingers a few inches into the back waist of her pants, feeling the dip between her buttocks and watching her squirm helplessly against whatever mental hold he had on her.
Could she have seen herself through the strange hypnosis of her own mind or body’s doing, she would have been broken simply from humiliation. Time to put the nail in the coffin of her downfall.
She arched toward him as he pulled away, her body his eager instrument despite what remained of her sober consciousness’ resistance. He took a few steps back, raising a hand toward her and smirking at her wince then confused expression as she realized she was not in his force grip. She looked about herself dazedly as she noticed flickers of light reflecting off the air near her, but she sobered as she realized that the light was glinting off eight tiny triangular razor blades that Maul was controlling.
He reveled in every flinch and twitch of her form as she realized again the very real danger she was in. Not lowering his hand or focus, he approached her again, stroking the side of her head in his free hand as the blades continued to float idly in the air where she could see them. She made a face of disgust as his hand moved downward, but she dared not pull away. He hooked a finger around the front of her pants and gently lifted the fabric only an inch from her skin, eyes boring into hers so as not to miss the slightest expression. She, however, would not meet his gaze, too distracted by the deadly blades at his disposal.
“Ahsoka,” he whispered, and finally she looked into his eyes, reflecting unspoken pleas. “I would not come this far only to kill you,” he offered her this small reassurance before drawing the blades into a concentric loop in the air between them. She flinched, watching them in fearful distrust. He grinned, then spoke in a growling, commanding tone, drawing her eyes to him again: “Do. Not. Move.”
She tensed and froze as the blades formed a vertical line and began to descend. He could see her chest giving light spasms as she tried to breathe evenly despite her rising fear. His finger around her waistband curled, and she grit her teeth, tears in her eyes as she endured Maul’s incessant, burning stare through her torture. As the cold blades entered her pants, they moved flat across her skin under her clothing. Unable to bear his gaze any longer, she clenched her eyes shut.
“No no no,” he hummed, “it won’t be that easy.” All the razors trickling over her quivering flesh, he released her waistband and stroked down the center of her chest to her belly button. “Open your eyes,” he coaxed musically. Her lip trembled, but she could not bring herself to follow his instruction. Was it fear and humiliation..? Or was it lingering defiance?
His face twitched. “Open... your eyes,” he growled dangerously, pinching her chin. Her breathing hitched, eyes, fingers, and teeth clenching shut tighter as the blades continued to spread out under her clothes and across sensitive skin.
“If you value your existence you will not DEFY ME!” he snarled, raising the blades off her skin and stretching the fabric that concealed them outward as he reached a furious crescendo.
Her eyes shot open and she inhaled a shaking gasp. The beautiful terror in her face and the horrifying reflection of himself in her large, pitiful eyes quickly pacified his rage. His fingers, which had been digging into the sides of her neck, loosened and traced a line with a nail down her trembling core.
“We need not be enemies, Ahsoka,” he whispered, “but unless you are willing to divulge Kenobi’s whereabouts... you are still my prisoner.”
He spread his fingers, and the blades within her pants sliced outward, tearing the fabric to ribbons and leaving only her plain undergarment. She yelped in surprise, then glancing down for a moment and finding herself unharmed returned her gaze to him.
Letting the blades rain to the floor, his hands moved to her sides, sliding downward and onto her hips, with his thumbs teasing the small bit of fabric that acted as her last defense. He felt her thighs, inwardly amazed at their softness. He allowed a guttural hum from his own throat as he ran his palms up the front of her legs. As he reached her undergarment, he inserted his thumbs underneath at each hip and paused, watching her lip tremble.
“If you wish to beg... you may now do so,” he whispered, stretching the fabric and feeling it between his fingers.
She winced, gritting her teeth, turning her head to the side but not daring to break eye contact.
He smiled. “Very well.” With a tug downward, her garment fell from her waist and trickled to her suspended ankles.
He inhaled her fear and relished the quiet whimper she tried to suppress, wasting no time in caressing her hips and bottom and feeling her muscles tense underneath his touch. He ran his flattened hands up her back, over her shoulders and neck, then back down her front, pausing to massage her breasts and tease her nipples. Her body instinctively shrunk away from his every caress in vain, and in her eyes he could see her sense of duty entering her mind’s focus as she silently bore his treatment.
“Still holding onto the hope that your friends are coming for you, General..?” he growled amusedly, rubbing gentle circles over her nipples with his thumbs. “Perhaps they will... perhaps your suffering will be the bait that brings Kenobi right to me.”
She hung her head, but he quickly tapped her chin with his finger indicatively and she defeatedly rose to met his gaze again.
“Very good. Perhaps... a reward for your obedience?” he raised her chin further with his index finger, then pressed his bare chest tightly against hers and met her lips with another maddeningly tender kiss, his hands lowering to her waist to feel her arch into him.
The only sound to escape her was a hitched, labored breathing and the occasional reactive whimper as their tongues resumed their dance that cast their convenient spell over her entirety. He allowed her to get lost in the sensation and close her eyes as he wrapped one arm around her back to caress the back of her head and ran his other hand down her torso and then below her belly button. She shivered, but otherwise seemed to only wish to devour his kiss more hungrily.
Why was such a simple action able to completely dominate this proud creature? Perhaps the act was comforting to her? A nonverbal promise of care and affection? Undoubtably it was a fatal weakness, convenient for an enemy who could exploit it, in an otherwise capable opponent.
His hand crawled toward her most sensitive area, and though she pressed her legs firmly together, she seemed to curl her body toward him rather than away.
His fingers brushed through her tuft of soft hair, feeling the heat of her ever closer. She had grown still in their kiss, but it seemed as though she could simply not split her focus between her movements and sensations.
As his hand finally reached her slit, his foe gasped, arching as his fingers easily slid between the gap in her thighs and cupped her heat. Underneath his still fingers, already slick with her arousal, he felt her mons twitch.
She began to whimper. He applied pressure, and her whimper became a whine, her heat twitching and throbbing despite her faltering attempts to protest.
He began to massage her sensitive flesh, finding that each time he applied any extra pressure to the tiny bud at the top of her slit, she gasped. He applied two fingers against it and began a slow circular rub, and the instant he did she let loose a loud, high-pitched moan and her head lolled backward onto his hand. Her hips responded enthusiastically to his petting, rocking with his hand and increasing friction. He quickened his movement in response, changing to a back and forth grind over her bud and mons.
Through her labored panting, he heard what sounded like words and felt a slight, frantic shaking of her head against him.
“I- I can’t- st- st- please- st- I- can’t- please-!”
“Your eloquent prayers have not fallen... on unmerciful ears,” he whispered breathily with a smirk, continuing the motion while tilting her head to meet his gaze. She panted almost like an animal, her eyes struggling to keep focus. “I will grant you a small release from your pain...”
With a rough, full-handed squeeze of her bud that drew from her an erotic yelp, he cupped and slowly stroked the bulk of her heat once more, giving her mere seconds to inhale deeply in relief before on his fourth slow pass over her mons he slid his middle finger deeply into her well prepared entrance. Her whole body arched violently, and she let out what Maul could only describe as a scream, but one that sounded like no scream he had ever heard. It sent a jolt through him that he could not understand, but that quickened his pulse and made him desperately want to hear it again.
They remained still for a long moment, Ahsoka’s eyes wide and aimed at the ceiling but seeing only flashes of color. Then, Maul leaned in close to her montral, tickling the skin with his lips, and whispered.
“I have granted some relief from your suffering, yes...?” he said, feeling her insides throbbing against him in reaction to his voice though she remained frozen in place. “Now, you will thank me.”
As he had suspected, she did not move, but her toes curled in discomfort and the redness of her face deepened. Inside her, his long finger curled slightly as well, drawing from her a long whimper.
“I have shown you a kindness,” he growled darkly, running his free hand down her back and breathing hotly on her neck, slowly curling his finger again within her. “You will thank me.”
Except for her haggard breathing, silence still.
“Perhaps I have not been generous enough.”
Planting his thumb firmly on her sensitive nub, he inserted a second finger, driving both in to stroke deeply. He felt her slick walls tremble and tighten as a louder, even more delicious scream met his ears. He observed her with satisfaction and hot breath as she writhed noisily against his fingers, and he began to casually stroke his other hand’s fingertips across one of her nipples.
“Is this more to your liking, Lady Tano..?” he purred tauntingly, finding her unlikely to be capable of responding though giving her a long moment to try before accepting a long whine as an answer. “Yes..? I shall therefor require customary gratitude. You will. Thank. Me.” With each emphasis, he applied pressure to her bud, twisted his fingers within her, and pinched her nipple, each time drawing out a sensual cry and a desperate rock of her hips.
“- you-“
Hearing some sense in her voice on the last twist, he slowed his assault to a mere gentle rubbing of her slick, engorged bud, turning her head to speak directly to him and reveling in the defeated tremble of her lips. “Could you repeat yourself?”
“... thank you.” she whispered raggedly, all spark of defiance faded from her tear-filled blue eyes.
“Much better,” he hummed, then took her mouth with his and thrusted his fingers into her again. Then again. Then he picked up a steady pace, his tongue probing her mouth as ferociously as his fingers her folds.
While he roughly handled her writhing body, Ahsoka felt her senses slipping away from her as she heard her own throat making humiliating sounds she had never made before. Her body demanded more from her tormentor despite what little remained of her dignity demanding her to not relent, to take back all of her arousal, to fight with her last breath...
She could not listen to dignity’s cruel expectations long, as her body ground against her enemy’s hand more and more desperately despite her wishes.
Through the humiliation, she felt a growing spark of anger. How could the Order have not prepared her for this? How could they let such a weakness develop in her for so long without noticing..? How could... how...
A white light pricked through the center of her vision and her body’s thrusting became almost hysterical. She needed... she needed...
He seemed to know what she needed though she herself did not. He changed his angle, stirring her insides with his fingers while thrusting over her bud, at the same time as he released her lips from their kiss. Her mouth hung open, gulping in air as a prick of light spread across her vision.
Almost-
Maul’s hot, wet tongue made contact with her navel, and kneeling before her he dragged a trail of saliva up to her breast until suddenly he took it in his mouth, sucking and nipping. His hand did not slow within her, but kept the same rhythmic pace of thrusting, twisting, and rubbing.
Suddenly, her thighs clamped around his hand, and he felt her insides tremble and clench hard, spilling hot wetness into his waiting palm and flowing down her legs. An uncivilized roar of pleasure from her throat accompanied her orgasm, and Maul tilted her head by her back lekku, forcing her to look at him as she shakily completed riding out her climax on his hand.
Then, she went completely limp, gasping for air and twitching, and he removed his fingers from inside her slowly to the sound of one final broken whimper.
He stepped back, enjoying the sight of her exhausted body immensely for several breathy moments before finally speaking.
“Now... my dear Ahsoka... one... final... kiss... before my departure,” he stepped forward slowly, then took each of her front lekku in his hands, massaging their tips soothingly as he drew her raw, pillow-soft lips to his.
In her state, she stood no chance attempting a mental defense against him, and he slipped as easily into her mind as he had her body. He quickly discovered the last location of his old foe, then perused a few other interesting bits of information before taking his leave of her subconscious and drawing his lips back from hers.
Her head hung low as he stepped out of her line of view, but she suddenly felt herself fall as the machine securing her shackles buzzed and released her from her floating cage. Her hands, still cuffed, snapped together in front of her with a clink. She then felt them pulling her to her feet, and her trembling legs fumbled to keep up with them. Her captor telekinetically puppeteering her, his hand held out in front of him as he guided her toward his ship, reveled in her horror and confusion as she looked over her shoulder at the bottom of the ramp.
“As I said, I shall be taking my departure. And with me, I shall take that which is mine.”
Her lip quivered, head dropped, and knees trembled, but he did not allow her to fall, entering the ship behind her and closing it.