Kaster had been hunting a Fury for weeks. When he first looked at a holo-pic of her, he knew he wanted her. Wanted to chase her, capture her, tear the clothing from her, and ravish her completely. The overlords who put the bounty on her weren’t the type that would care too much about what happened after the capture, just that she was brought to them in chains. Kaster intended to do just that, and perhaps take a few indulgences with her on the way back.

He’d finally caught a lead, a slaver she’d cheated and run off with his merchandise. The slaver was all too happy to tell Kaster that she’d bragged about doing more of the same out on The Edge. Kaster thanked him with credits but refused to break him out. Kaster and the slaver parted on not-so-good terms, the slaver throwing the coins demanding to know what good they’d do him in prison.

From there Kaster zigzagged from star to star getting ever closer to the edge of civilized space. He caught another break at a refueling station orbiting a backwater world. She’d docked, gambled with the locals, and rabble roused filling their heads with nonsense about throwing the old ways into chaos and establishing a new era. Kaster chalked it up to delusional crazy talk, so typical of a Fury.

The final bit of luck happened when he landed on Rioldd, a dismal mining world with a foul-smelling atmosphere and perpetual overcast. The Fury’s ship was parked planet side in the lot next to his. She was here, he could taste the bounty, and her.

It didn’t take long to find the tavern, one of the larger buildings in the world’s only city of any significance. To even call it a city was a stretch, it was barely a town.

Walking into the bar Kaster felt a whisper of Deja-vu. This cantina was like a billion others throughout the galaxy, simple, primitive, and full of rough men looking to drink away a day’s worth of problems.

He walked carefully past the bar, the barkeep was busy chatting it up with customers, reliving old glory days. A pair of worn working girls turned to Kaster, but their tired smiles faded when he barely acknowledged them.

A human woman’s voice drifted from one corner of the bar dominated by a massive wooden table. He spotted her, the Fury, doing exactly what she’d done on a string of previous worlds. Her long face was serious, and she spoke with zeal. She sat at one end of the table, surrounded by a half dozen drinking miners, proselytizing her insanity.

“Together, we can cast off the chains of slavery in all its forms, corporate, warlord, even personal chattel, and create a galaxy where all sentients stand equal shoulder to shoulder…” The Fury’s speech slowed, and she looked up at Kaster as he approached.

“Indy-Ra?” Kaster asked, trilling his R perfectly to pronounce her name properly.

The miners looked up at him, then to the human woman who’d been preaching seconds ago.

Kaster and Indy-Ra’s Blades erupted together in unison.

She was faster, kicking the massive table, which weighed several times more than she did at Kaster. His reflexes saved him from being crushed by ducking around the table as it swept past and swinging his WaveBlade just in time to stop her blow. He darted a step back and she pressed forward their blades whipping through the air and crashing into each other repeatedly. The miners scattered, some seriously wounded, in the opening crash of Blades.

Her confidence was overwhelming. She wielded her Blade deftly stabbing and swinging at him without a muscle in her face revealing the slightest emotion. Kaster snarled, letting his fury build up. His quarry was older and more experienced, but he was not going to lose out on the bounty… or the delight of humiliating her once captured.

He told her, “I’ve hunted you so long.”

By now all the patrons in the bar were reacting to the Blade duel. They scattered, most fleeing, but those who’d been infected by her speech were ducking behind pillars and overturned tables. A volley of beams and blaster shots rang out. The miners weren’t skilled fighters and so the shots came whizzing in at both Kaster and Indy-Ka. Each used their Blades to deflect the shots giving the duel a moment's pause.

He hesitated only long enough to tell her, “I’m going to have you.”

Blocking a quick stab from her, Kaster counted four plus the barkeep with weapons. He considered that perhaps he’d been a bit too brash and should have lain in wait for her, but weeks of hunting had him eager to secure his prize. His blade shielded him from several shots, he then had to roll under her Blade.

One of the miners stepped out into the open aiming an ancient rifle. Kaster pointed to a stool, then the miner. The stool flung itself through the air striking the miner and knocking both the weapon and the unconscious miner in opposite directions.

Another miner rushed Kaster with some sort of pole weapon. Kaster ducked aside and sliced through the man. Three more and the Fury. He dodged away from the wounded man with the polearm leaving space for her.

“You’ll be mine,” he said watching a flicker of concern cross her face.

Just as he’d suspected Indy-Ra went to the wounded man’s side. This gave Kaster the time needed to use his Focus and shove two more miners into each other. The force of their meeting was enough to daze them.

Looking back to the wounded miner he saw Indy-Ra finish a healing touch using her Focus, then she came up Blade ready. Kaster held his position out in the open, underneath a massive chandelier made of the very ore the miners worked. She flew through the air at him and he defended himself fiercely. The Blades crackled spitting lightning with each hit.

Kaster used his Focus to push at her feet. She spun defending herself, letting her spinning motion absorb the force of the invisible blow. And while she had her Blade in a protective position, Kaster threw his Blade away. It went spiraling toward the barkeep.

Indy-Ra held up her free hand, deflecting the spinning Blade and saving the bartender's life. Kaster used the same trick to deflect his Blade upward to the cavernous ceiling of the cantina, where the chandelier was held by a thick cable.

He knew it wasn’t enough, he had to overwhelm her, and so he used his Focus again to pull every loose object in the bar at her. A cloud of mugs, blasters, coins, and eating utensils came flying. She spun again her Blade a whir, blocking the debris as she tried to move out from under the falling chandelier.

Another nudge with his Focus, and the chandelier changed trajectory. Crashing into the defeated Fury.

As Indy-Ra groaned, Kaster turned back to the barkeep who stared in panic without having fired a shot.

“Run.” Kaster said. Then he was alone with her.

He ripped the chandelier aside with the help of his Focus. The damn thing weighed a few hundred kilos. And there she lay, the pommel of her WaveBlade lying next to her inert and lifeless.

“I yield,” she begged.

“I accept,” he replied, then added, “You are mine.”

She understood at once what the implications in his voice meant.

“No… I yield as your prisoner. Not, that… Not what you want.” She whispered rolling into a sitting position and scrambling away from him.

“I already accepted. Honor your pledge and give me your hands.” He held out a pair of manacles. When she paused, he added, “I will kill these little people if needed. Yield.”

And she did. She held her wrists up in front of her as he snapped the manacles on her. She looked defiantly up into his face, and he could not wait to see that look ruined soon. He then slipped a gag into her mouth and strapped it behind her head. If she even dared so much as whisper it would give her a wicked shock.

He knelt in front of her, flicked the holo-pic on, and compared her face to it. He already knew she was the one, but he wanted to see if she lived up to what his imagination had built. Indy-Ra had a long face, elegant lines, thin lips, and eyes that brimmed with experience. He hoped it also meant carnal experience. It was harder to gauge her body concealed in Fury robes. She was fit, that he knew from their fight, but it was impossible to tell what other charms she had.

He took her Blade pommel and locked it to his belt. When her eyes registered concern he knelt and whispered, “I’ve waited so long for this. Stared at you every day for weeks. Wanted to meet you in person. Touch you.”

She tried to protest and was rewarded with a powerful shock.

He used her moment of pain to turn her around shoving her face to the dirty floor of the bar and yanking her hips up. She struggled but kept quiet. Holding her like this he knelt between her parted legs and yanked back on her robes. He reached out with his Focus feeling her emotions, they were muted from years of training, but he could taste it, her fear, her shame, her disappointment. The shame was the most intoxicating. He wanted to wear that like cologne proudly.

Another yank of her robes and he had them up over her ass. As he’d thought, her legs were firm, and her ass a masterpiece built with years of exercise. Through the Focus he could tell she was trying to calm herself, probably repeating some Fury mantra in her head. But he could also feel her reaching out to touch him, trying to calm him, to soothe his hungers. And that only made him want her more.

He knew she could tell just how badly he wanted her. And she could tell just how much he was enjoying her shame. A vicious ouroboros, both feeding the hunger of the other, snakes eating their own tails.

She couldn’t speak so she tried to reach out with her bound hands, her last desperate measure to stop him. She pushed, and he laughed, relishing how much power he had over her, how much he desired her, the holo hadn’t done her justice. In the flesh, quivering before him, a once mighty Fury made small and helpless… he wanted to show her just how helpless she would become.

He thought of her in slave chains. Sold to some warlord in Coalition space. Implanted and hungry for every degradation they would bestow upon her. Slowly she would become nothing more than a collection of holes begging for use by any and loving, climaxing, and begging for more.

She thrashed, and he felt just how much he ached for her. Her state of anxiety was overwhelming, she was a mess, defeated with her ass exposed to a man intending to use her in ways she’d given up so long ago to become a Fury.

His hand crashed down on her ass, filling the empty bar with the sounds of a smack on firm flesh. As he did this he Focused, feeding her whisps of his arousal, changing it into her own. He slapped the other cheek, again pushing arousal at her in the moment the pain broke her Focus. A half dozen swats later and she was writhing, no longer in agony but something else.

He wished he had all day to do this to her, humiliate her, and make her feel the need of her cunt. Definitely, once they were safely away in hyperspace, but for now, he just wanted to establish her shame, make her humiliation sting.

Kaster touched her bare skin, tracing his fingers in patterns on the inside of her thighs. She tried to calm herself, but nobody had ever treated her like this. Her emotions were a muddled soup, the fear was gone, but the shame and anxiety were monolithic. And as he worked at her, arousal trickled in. He fed it, using his desire to steadily increase hers.

When his fingers brushed over her panties, she quivered. He leaned over her and whispered, “Wet.”

The shame flooded out of her like a volcano, and he was there to consume and relish it. A proud Fury reduced to a dripping hole. Treated as she never had been before. He imagined her telling the Fury Elders about this, if she ever got back to a temple. She felt his thought, the emotions of it, and it created more shame and humiliation.

“I know.” He whispered, “Imagine the council, old abstinent men and women, your elders, listening to you describe how you were violated, used, and how you loved every moment of it. Relished the violation. Because for once in your life you weren’t just repeating some dead mantra, but finally living.”

He pressed his hand to her sopping pussy through the thin fabric, enjoying both her squeal and the shock that came with it. In time he could probably teach her to get off to those shocks. The same way he planned to hear her squeal while stuffed with his cock. She heard, tasted the thoughts, and squeezed her thighs.

He wanted more, but sometimes, patience, anticipation, and long expectations made a meal all the more delicious. He knew he’d have her. Knew he’d hear her begging. Knew he’d hear the sounds of ecstasy issuing from her. They would be so much more delicious in time. For now, escape was paramount.

He hefted her up over a shoulder and marched out into the streets. She tried struggling once, and he tapped her with a shocker, just a taste to tell her to behave. A few scattered citizens watched him carry his prize, but no one tried to stop him.

Walking up the ramp of his ship a battered ground car with police markings pulled up. Kaster simply shut the ramp, dumped the Fury in a holding cell, and went to the cockpit. Ground control tried to lock his take off, but his scrambler diverted their signal, and his ship was skyward in moments.