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Message-ID: <38982asstr$1035774602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: jimmy@jimmy-hat.com (Jimmy Hat)
Mail-To-News-Contact: postmaster@nym.alias.net
Subject: {ASSM} Episode 36: Lust for the Aliens 2/3 (M+F MF oral mild bd toys)  
Date: Sun, 27 Oct 2002 22:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Maytag got off the elevator two floors below the penthouse, the
last floor serviced by this elevator. Specific cars operated by
room keys led to the top floors. Maytag entered the stairwell
next to the elevator bank. The stairs went to the top stories of
the building, but the doors only allowed key access. Maytag
guessed that there was a good deal of traffic between those
floors if storm troopers occupied both floors. 

Maytag examined the door mechanism for this floor. Same as above,
without the lock. A damper kept the door from flying open or
closing too quickly. He opened the door several times and counted
off a good seven seconds before the door latch caught. 

If he could just hide out for a second as someone went through,
he could pass after them. He went back up to the top floors. The
stairwell was a simple shaft made of cinderblocks and poured
concrete. It afforded no cover. Perhaps behind the door, he
thought. The damper would stop him from being hit, but he would
be out in the open if someone came up before someone went out.
Then he looked up and saw the fire department stand pipe. 

The ceiling of this platform was high as this was the last floor
of the building. Moreover, when he looked from the landing coming
up from below, he could not see the pipe at all. Someone in a
helmet looking only to get up the stairs should never even see
the pipe. Maytag hadn't until he started looking around. 

If he could climb up on the pipe, he would be free to drop down
and grab the door. That's what Maytag did, covering himself with
dust and having a sneezing fit in the process. It ended just in
time, as the door did open. But no one came through. 

"You sure they're up there?" a voice asked. It had the
unmistakable scratchy quality of sound passing through a storm
trooper helmet's amplifier. 

"Byers is there now," said a different voice with the same
squawk. "If you're looking to get high tonight, this is our best
chance. The officers have said no dope in the rooms." 

"What about the alarm? The door to the roof is an emergency
exit." 

The roof! That gave Maytag a shock. 

"Desantis bypassed it," the other said. 

If they went to the roof, they had to pass under him. They might
not see him then but he checked sightlines coming up from below,
not above. When they turned on the landing he would be seen. 

"Desantis doesn't smoke dope," said the first one. 

"No, but he's an electronics freak, and he took it as a personal
challenge. C'mon let's go before someone sees us." 

Maytag's thoughts exactly. The two did come through, and he
barely waited for them to go past before he lowered himself. They
were on the first steps when he moved around the corner, and he
darted through the closing door with his heart in his throat. 

That was too close. Here he was, not in mortal danger, but not
exactly in friendly territory either. He had only a vague
objective and no plan. Time to change at least part of that. If
he could get his hands on a set of white armor for himself, he
could move around at will. All he had to do was find some. 

Maytag moved to the end of the hall and started to check doors.
He made it halfway back to the stairs when he found a door ajar.
Someone had thrown out the bolt with the door open to keep the
room accessible. Maytag went inside. His luck continued when he
saw that the room was connected to the next suite over by an open
door. He now had two rooms to search. 

Unfortunately, he came up empty in the first room. Things looked
to get worse while searching the adjoining room. Maytag heard
someone enter through the same open door he had found. 

"Go ahead and set up anywhere," said the amplified voice of a
storm trooper. Maytag ducked into the space behind the open door
connecting the rooms. 

"Thanks," came an answer. It did not have the same transmitted
quality, but it sounded muffled as well. 

Through the gap between door and jamb, Maytag could see the bed
of the adjacent room, as well as the window looking out at
growing darkness. In the window he made out two reflections, one
bright figure the familiar white armor of a storm trooper. The
second was a little darker, and the helmet was different, and
something rose behind him like a backpack. Then the figure came
into view. "Boba Fett!" cried a voice in Maytag's head. 

Things had definitely gotten worse. 

* * * 

Stanton sipped her martini and looked over at her strangely
attractive companion. She was about to say something when he
spoke first. 

"Tell me something, Heather," Brendo said. "Why are you here,
really?" 

"It's a convention. Aren't we all here for the same reason?" 

"Sure, but I get to know the convention goers from doing these
all year long and you're not typical. Neither is your friend,
really. He's having a good time, but he's looking for something." 

"It's our first time at one of these. You get spectators, right?" 

"Yes, just not in costume," Brendo answered. 

"Well, some people have to be here for their first time, right?" 

"Exactly. Some are newcomers. And some like me are here to make
money." 

"And a lot of people are here to buy stuff," Stanton answered.
"Did you see all the stuff Maytag picked up?" 

"That's another thing. I don't understand why your friend left
you while he looked for parties." 

"I told you I would catch up." 

"I believe you. But in particular you were looking for a wild
party." 

"His idea," she said with a dismissive wave. 

"You're obviously not a couple." 

"Well, we're close, but not like that." 

"Right, close," Brendo sipped his own drink. "Heather, I'm trying
to put this delicately, but I fear I have to be a little
offensive. Are you two looking to make money here, too?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"A guy with an attractive woman not romantically involved, he
shops around for a wild party wile she waits for word from
him..." 

Stanton could not believe where this was going. "You think we're
soliciting prostitution!" 

"I didn't say that exactly." 

"But you were getting there." 

"Well, I've seen it before. You would not believe how many pimps
want to try dressing like Lando Calrissian and working the
conventions with their girls." 

"Well, that's not what we're doing." 

"So you really are here for a good time?" 

"That's right," Stanton said, lifting her drink. "So where can a
girl find one around here?" 

* * * 

The man in the Boba Fett armor positioned a camera atop a tripod
and focused it on the bed. "There," he said. "Just start the tape
when things get going. I'll meet up with you either late tonight
or tomorrow to get the tape." 

"Are you sure you don't want to hang around?" the storm trooper
asked. 

"Not my style," Fett answered. "What about the girl? You sure
she's OK with this? I might be able to use this equipment
someplace else." 

"She'll go along with it. She's just looking for a real good
time." 

They were joined by another storm trooper. "Prisoner is on the
way here. What do I do with this?" He held up a rod holding a
black sphere like a tether ball. 

"That's my cue to exit," said Fett turning on his heel and
striding out. 

"What's with him," asked the one with the sphere. 

"Bounty hunter," said the other. "Too much of a loner for the
group thing, I guess." 

The storm trooper rested the staff against the wall and Maytag
got a better look. The sphere was a solid, shiny black, layered
with small bits of metal, and other decorations. Protruding
tangentially from its middle circumference was a long, thin black
cylinder, ending in a tapered point, with a silver stripe down
its side. 

Next, more storm troopers arrived, with what had to be the
aforementioned prisoner. She wore an orange dress, slit at the
sides to reveal quite a bit of leg: green leg. She was green head
to toe, and her head featured large black eyes, a long snout that
ended in elliptical lips painted red, a second set of ears shaped
like radar dishes on her forehead, and a shocking brown mohawk
surrounded by a bumpy green scalp. Binders held her hands
together. The mask and coloring were excellent, Maytag noted. He
only knew it was a woman because the slightly curved shape under
that dress simply could not be anything else. They sat her on the
edge of the bed. 

"Nadra Sookee," a stormtrooper squawked. The green woman looked
up. "Do you know what kind of trouble you're in?" 

"I've done nothing," she said. "There's been a misunderstanding.
I just came here for a party." 

"A party?" said another, brandishing his blaster menacingly.
"Does this look like a party?" 

Nadra looked around the room at the faceless soldiers in their
helmets. Uncaring dark lenses looked back at her. White armor
that mimicked pectoral muscles and transcended them at the same
time. Black gloves, white cod pieces. It looked like the start of
a party. "I don't know what kind of answer you want from me," she
said. 

"The truth," said one storm trooper. "And we're going to get it.
Prepare the interrogation droid!" 

"Hey," one guy nudged another. "I'll get that. You turn on that
camera." That one walked to the wall and lifted the pole in the
air. Another took hold of the black sphere and pressed a switch
on its belly. Lights came to life along its surface and it gave
off a disturbing low pitched warble. 

"Turn the prisoner over!" the lead storm trooper ordered. 

"That's what I'm talking about," said the one holding the pole. 

Two storm troopers turned the green skinned woman over. Now she
knelt over the edge of the bed with her arms straight out in
front of her, wrists still bound. The lead trooper lifted the
day-glo orange dress to reveal her legs completely. She wore a
banana yellow thong that cleaved her green ass in two. Her hips
were slender, her bottom small. The trooper gave it a slap and
rubbed it with his gloved hand. 

Nadra looked up at a storm trooper standing on the other side of
the bed. He might have been licking his lips, he might have worn
a look of utter contempt, but the helmet presented an impassive
mask. These unfeeling masks were going to have their way with
her. The one behind her slapped her bare ass again and gave her
cheeks a rub. She was growing damp between her legs. 

"Bring the droid forward," said the leader. "Let her see it." 

The pole hand moved the ball forward over her head and then
dipped it down. The stormtrooper on the far side took hold of it.
Nadra took sight of the mechanical device, a simple sphere made
threatening by that lone probing arm. 

"Activate the device!" barked the leader. The storm trooper on
the far side of the bed flipped another switch and the long
cylinder buzzed with life. 

"That's a vibrator," Maytag thought to himself. "Kinkier and
kinkier." 

"Bring it here," called the leader. 

The pole hand brought the sphere back behind the leader. He
slapped her ass twice. "Spread those legs apart, prisoner! I
don't see any shackles on your ankles." 

Nadra did as she was ordered. She also lifted her ass in the air
a bit, which she was not explicitly ordered to do. The yellow
fabric of her thong was tight enough to outline the cleft of her
vulva. Maytag bit his lower lip. 

"That's better!" called the leader. "You, there! Bring the droid
forward and position it for interrogation assistance." 

A stormtrooper with a leather shoulder pad took hold of the
sphere. He knelt down, his armor clinking against the ground. He
brought the sphere forward until the buzzing probe nestled
against the prisoner's pudenda. She moaned. 

"That's right," the leader said. "Resist all you want, it won't
help you." 

The man with the shoulder pad pushed the sphere solidly against
her ass, so the probe extended along her entire crotch. Nadra
moaned again. She was growing wet. The device buzzed against her
pussy and she felt sweat forming on the back of her knees where
her kneeling forced calf and thigh together. 

"Move it back," the leader said. He replaced the touch of the
vibrator with his gloved hand. He rubbed her pussy and the white
armor plate on the back of his hand felt cold and hard against
her inner thigh. "Had enough?" She moaned again. 

"Again!" he said, pulling his hand away and delivering a heavy
slap to her ass. 

Once more the trooper moved the device to her crotch. He pressed
forward until the high pitched buzzing was muffled completely and
only her moaning and the warble of the sphere itself remained. 

"Have you had enough?" the interrogator asked. "Are you ready to
cooperate?" 

She was wet, and she was ready to cooperate. "Please, no more.
I'll do anything." 

"Yes! Get me out of these bonds and I'll show you." 

"We'll see about that," he replied. "Guard! Take her into the
next room. Bring the bag she was carrying in case she needs
anything. Unshackle her and bring her back naked." 

"That's what I'm talking about," said the pole hand. 

The one with the shoulder pad tapped him on the helmet. "You can
put that down now." 

A storm trooper escorted Nadra into the next room. Maytag
straightened and remained silent. He unlocked her bonds. Nadra
pulled the dress over her head. She did not wear a bra and the
thong was barely there. 

"You look damn good, you little Rodian bitch," said the trooper. 

"I'll bet," she replied. Nadra stepped out of her underwear. She
was shaved clean. She went into her bag and brought out a small
squeeze bottle. She squirted a bit in her hand and applied it to
her pussy. Then she dispensed more of it and rubbed it around the
oval lip of her mask. 

"Full service, huh?" the stormtrooper asked. 

"Pig," she said, for which he slapped her playfully on the ass.
She tossed him the bottle. "You guys may want to use some of
this." 

The trooper caught it and escorted her back into the room to the
joy of his mates and Maytag's relief. He could breathe again. 

Nadra got on the bed. Maytag saw her from the back, and was
amazed by how much of her was green. The leader must have thought
the same thing. He stopped her and spread apart her ass, using
his gloved fingers to part her lips until they glistened pink
among the green folds. It looked like the opening of a ripe fig.
Maytag's dick grew stiff. "That's nice," said the leader. "This
may work out for you after all, my dear Rodian whore." He slapped
her on the ass and she crawled forward on the bed and turned so
that Maytag saw her profile. 

The leader started things off, lifting his codpiece and fishing
out his floppy prick. He worked it hard with a little lube then
plunged inside her bald cunt. She called out in pleasure, and the
others started to get themselves ready. Some detached the
codpieces entirely, others lifted them as the leader had. 

As the leader stroked her from behind, another approached her
from the front, his fat cock standing our rigidly in front of
him. "You're certainly not short for a storm trooper," Nadra
said. "Big boy I'd like to try, but I think you're better off
waiting for a turn back there." 

Another gent took his place in front of her, his lubed cock
straight as an arrow. She helped this one slip his cock past the
mask and inside her face. Nadra tasted the bitter-sweet lube, but
appreciated how he glided along the latex lips of the mask. It
was a tight fit, and he came even before the leader behind her
did. His amplified moans caused a round of applause among the
other troopers. "Damn, that was good," he squawked. 

"Let me try that," another said. He slipped his dick inside and
felt the same pleasure - a tight rubber ring and then the softer
second set of real lips behind it. 

The leader stepped up the pace of his strokes. Nadra thought he
would pop any second and he did, pulling out and spraying a
scattered load over her back. Someone actually toweled it off,
and Nadra felt like saying "awwww". 

Instead she grunted in shock. The big boy had taken over all
right, and he was stretching her out like a foot in a sock from
the very start. She sucked back hard on the guy in her mouth just
to ease the feeling. That pushed him over the edge. Inspired by
his leader's performance he pulled out and shot a thick load on
her mask. Not for the first or last time that night, Nadra told
herself how brilliant this idea was. A guy had just come on her
face, shooting directly into her eyes, and she didn't feel a
thing. 

Big boy pounded her from behind, and the feeling of her lips
being stretched out ran straight to her clit as a fierce hot tug.
Nadra lowered her head into her arms and raised her ass to enjoy
it, and the white armor cadre let the man work solo knowing she
was getting off. Shortly, Nadra had her first orgasm of the
night, in green shoulder shaking fashion. 

The party did not stop. Neoprene gloves felt her up all over.
They turned her on her back, and she draped a colored leg over a
leather shoulder pad as that trooper plunged in to her. One
lifted her up and banged her in mid air, and Nadra loved the feel
of his armor plating wrapped around her as he did it. They were
so careful about the state of their armor that she did not get a
single scrape from a sharp edge. One by one she saw the white
helmets tilt back as the wearers quaked in pleasure. And she had
no idea what they really looked like. 

Nadra did not know how long they had been going, but the pace
slowed down. She guessed everyone had their turn. The leader
sensed it, too. She must need a little break at least. 

"Nadra Sookee, you are amazing. This unit salutes you." The storm
troopers whooped it up. 

"I thought all of your units saluted me," she said. They whooped
it up some more. 

"Indeed! Now relax and freshen up. I'm going to another room to
grab a beer and I think some of the boys might join me. I think
we can trust the prisoner to cooperate at this point, right
boys?" They whooped louder still. 

"Thanks, sir," Nadra said. "I could probably use a little break.
Mind if I close this door for a little privacy?" 

"Go right ahead." 

Maytag jumped out of his hiding space. She was headed his way,
and she would find him soon enough. His best chance was to be out
in the open. 

Nadra came in the room and closed the door. Maytag let her walk
away and then he said, "That really was some show." 

Nadra turned around in surprise. "Who the hell are you?" 

Maytag said the first thing that came to mind. "I'm here to
rescue you." 

Nadra laughed. At least she hadn't screamed. "Wrong fantasy,
sweetie. And is that a light saber in your pocket or are you just
happy to see me." 

"Like I said, that was some show. And I really am here to help
you." 

"Do I look like I need help?" 

"They're filming you." 

"Yeah, I saw that." 

"That's going to end up on the Internet. Aren't you worried about
that?" 

"Who's going to recognize me? My gynecologist? Listen, buddy, I
don't know who you are, or how exactly you're getting off on
this, but all I have to do is yell, and you're in a world of
hurt." 

"But you haven't yelled," Maytag said. 

"No. That rescue line was kind of funny." 

"Look, all I want to do is stop them from taping." 

"A little late for that, don't you think?" 

"Then I have to get that tape." 

"You're kidding, right?" 

"No, it's crucial. Someone very important wants me to stop that
tape from being put on the Internet." 

"Who? Yoda?" 

"No. His lawyers." And my boss, he thought without saying it. 

"You're serious." 

"Yes, I am," Maytag said. 

"If you come out of this room and go get that tape, then they'll
think I'm in on it, too." 

"Probably." 

"So it looks like you're rescuing me whether I like it or not." 

* * * 

Inside Brendo's room, Stanton leaned in and kissed him. His lips
parted slightly, meeting her embrace and inviting her deeper. She
slipped her tongue inside, only for his lips to close over it and
suck back gently. It was a nice way to start, Stanton thought,
and she kept the kiss going for a while. 

When their lips did separate, he moaned appreciatively. Stanton
ran a finger along his chin. "I can't even feel the makeup," she
said. "Is the orange some sort of body paint?" 

"Neither," Brendo said. "That's natural coloring." 

"Get out!" Stanton exclaimed. 

"No," he replied. "A steady, heavy diet of food rich in beta
carotene will color your skin orange. Combine that with my
normally pale skin and you get this. I drink a lot of carrot
juice when I'm working behind that bar." 

Stanton "So you mean all of you is this color?" 

"Right to the tips of my toes." 

Stanton's blue eyes narrowed wickedly. "Not to rush things, but I
have got to see this for myself." She moved a hand down to his
baggy black trousers. 

Brendo grinned. "I don't mind if you rush things." 

"I'll bet you don't," Stanton said as she dropped into a crouch.
Using two hands, she opened the fly and worked his prick through
the seams in his pants and underwear. She took away her hand and
left his hose dangling from the fly of his pants so that she
would have an unobscured view. Sure enough, it was the same
pastel orange as the rest of his visible skin, with tiny blue
veins visible just under the surface, ending in a bullet shaped
tip colored a more pronounced red. Stanton traced a finger along
its length, and it twitched to the right in response. She wanted
to make it bigger to see it in its full brightly colored glory.
"So, how many women do this just to see if it really is orange?" 

Brendo's smile only grew. "Probably ninety per cent of them." 

Stanton looked up at him, black hair buns on either side of
mischievous blue eyes. "And the other ten per cent?" 

"They want to know if I just shave my eyebrows to look Twi'lek,
or if I go all the way." Brendo wore the smug expression of one
who had gone through this before, and knew he would again. 

Stanton read the look. "I guess I should check that next, then,
huh?" She reached back into his pants and cupped his sack while
extending fingers past his root. The skin was smooth and firm,
like rubber. Stanton brought his sack out of his pants to
complete the inspection visually. Hairless and orange, his
genitals looked more like a sex toy than flesh and blood
equipment. 

"What do you think?" 
.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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