This is dedicated to Wraith, as a thank you for his nice comments
about "Padme's Perspective."
THE REFUGEE CENTER
by
Joe Doe
A STRIP SEARCH STORY FOR STAR WARS FANS, FEATURING A LOST SCENE
FROM "ATTACK OF THE CLONES."
******************************
MAIN TITLE SHOT AGAINST SPACE, AS CREDITS SCROLL:
STAR WARS
EPISODE 2.2
THE REFUGEE CENTER
WHILE DISGUISED AS REFUGEES ON THEIR WAY TO NABOO, JEDI KNIGHT
ANAKIN SKYWALKER AND SENATOR PADME AMIDALA ARE FORCED TO STOP
BRIEFLY AT AN INSTELLAR REFUGEE CENTER FOR REFUELING....
Anakin introduced himself to one of the guards and asked to be
taken to the central security office so that he can scout the
facility and ensure the senator's safety.
Meanwhile, the senator, still in disguise as a lowly refugee,
waited with R2D2 and the other female refugees....
As a queen (and now as a member of the Galactic Senate), Padme
wasn't used to standing in lines. But she knew that maintaining
the guise of an impoverished and powerless refugee was important
to her security, and she had agreed to play along with the
charade...at least until she reached the safety of her home
planet, Naboo.
Although she wasn't used to being treated as a commoner, her new
persona was not without its advantages. Although the 25-year-old
was very pretty, she tended to intimidate most men, and was too
busy with her career for the rest. But her current guise allowed
her to mix and flirt with the men aboard the ship. Padme basked
in the male attention, even when it created disturbances and
altercations that Anakin inevitably had to clean up.
Anakin's consternation at her flirty ways amused her. She
delighted in reminding him that she was an important senator,
and, as a Jedi Knight, it was his duty to "pick up" after her.
Anakin was furious with her, but she knew there was more to his
resentment than mere annoyance.
She knew that he was in love with her, and she enjoyed toying
with the lovesick Jedi. She teased him about his "dorky hair,"
and about the way he had to "run, fetch, and jump for Obi Wan."
But most of all, she delighted in teasing him about his vow of
celibacy.
"My poor little virgin!" she would say, sympathetically. "No
wonder you're so TENSE and FRUSTRATED all the time. It must be
so HARD on you. But I suspect that, when you're alone at night,
you...take matters in hand!"
It was a joke that never grew old...for her.
"My poor little Padawan apprentice!" she would tease. "When you
get to be a Jedi, will they finally let you extend your lightsaber
all the way? Or will it stay all soft, floppy, and limp?"
"Don't underestimate the power of the force," Anakin would say,
angrily.
"Don't pout, my little Jedi eunuch. You don't want me to have to
turn you over my knee, and spank you!"
She delighted in watching him blush and squirm through her verbal
abuse. She enjoyed watching him silently fume as she shamefully
seduced the other men of the ship, and then left him to sort out
the resulting mess. Anakin spent most of his time placating
frustrated men or their angry wives and girlfriends.
Yes, pretending to be a refugee was FUN!
As she impatiently waited in line for the local police to begin
their processing, Padme looked around for a way to create mischief.
She had seen the video cameras all over the processing area, and
she'd already asked R2D2 to plug into a computer console to find
out if Anakin was in fact in the central security room where all
of the video monitors were located.
R2D2 had verified that he was indeed watching her, which pleased
the young senator. She had seen Anakin surreptitiously appraising
her body during the last few days, and she enjoyed the thought of
him watching her.
Senator Padme decided to remove her elaborate headdress and outer
cloak, which left her slender arms bare. She knew the effect her
exposed skin would have on her frustrated audience.
As she waited in line, she noticed a large table with a seemingly
infinite variety of straps attached to the side, and a series of
hoses connected to the wall of what appeared to be a large concrete
holding area. The hoses and the drains in the floor made it appear
that the area was used to clean something.
She asked one of her fellow female refugees what the table and
hoses were for.
"That is the search area for female refugees," her fellow traveler
replied. "The guards at these facilities are creeps, and every
now and then they catch a female refugee without the proper
clearances. They take her to the 'search area' for what they
refer to as 'fun,'" she said, her voice dripping with contempt.
"What sort of 'fun' do they have?" Padme asked, eyeing the table
nervously.
"Women without clearance papers are searched," the other woman
explained. "First they are frisked...or groped is more like it.
Then they're stripped, supposedly to check for contraband. But
it's just a free show, if you ask me!"
Padme was genuinely shocked. "That's terrible!" She looked at
the hoses attached the wall and began to imagine their purpose.
"Um...you said that the women are stripped? Exactly how much do
they have to take off?"
"Everything!" the pretty refugee replied. "They strip those poor
women absolutely buck naked, and all the guards get to watch.
They record it on disc too, so all the toadies in the control
room get to gloat about it."
She shivered.
"Of course, as if taking off one's clothes in front of a group of
perverted guards isn't humiliating enough, then they strap the
poor girl to the table. They tie her down spread eagled, and they
probe her...everywhere!
"Then they let her up and spray her with those," she said, pointing
to the hoses attached to the wall. "The woman certainly doesn't
want to soap up in front of a dozen lip-smacking guards, but, if
she doesn't scrub every crack and crevice, then the guards will
'lend a hand.'"
Padme looked at the guards, who were ogling the females in the
line and joking among themselves. From their loutish appearance,
she had no doubt that everything the refugee was telling her
was true.
"When they're done with the shower, the prisoner is deloused. The
chemicals burn pretty good, because they have to kill any type of
bacteria on any creature in the galaxy. I guess you can imagine
how much that spray stinks!"
Padme's delicate nose wrinkled at the thought of it.
"None of the women in this group is in any danger, however," the
woman continued. "They were all scanned and their papers verified
before they were let on board the ship. As soon as they confirm
the information we'll be free to go."
"Are you sure they won't search us?" Padme asked.
"The only way a woman would be searched is if the ship's computer
records got totally fouled up, and that never happens. Much to
the guards' disappointment, I'm sure. There is nothing these
creeps like better than poking and probing some defenseless
woman."
Padme thought of Anakin watching her from the control room. As a
senator, she was shocked that refugee women could be treated that
way, but she had to admit that the thought of parading a butt-naked
woman past the tense, sexually frustrated Jedi amused her greatly.
And she wouldn't just be naked. From the look of the exam table,
the poor woman would be naked and DISPLAYED. When the cruel
straps were pulled taut, every inch of her naked flesh would
be exposed to the camera's searching eye.
She smiled. Anakin Skywalker would be seeing a woman's most
secret, delicate areas for the first time. And then, after she
was strapped down, helpless and vulnerable, the loathsome guards
would use their authority to explore her, inch by inch.
Chuckling, she imagined the bug-eyed Anakin staring transfixed at
the monitors. "I wonder how he'd explain the stain on the front
of his sacred Jedi robe to Obi Wan?" she mused.
Of course, she knew that everyone's paperwork was in perfect order.
It had been checked three times before they boarded the ship at
Coruscant. It was too bad, in a strange way: the thought of Anakin
watching an actual strip search was intoxicating.
Padme observed one of the humanoid guards looking her over, and she
teasingly ran her hand up and down her bare arm and winked at him.
She smiled as she noticed the stiffness in his pants. Men were so
predictable.
As she watched the guard ogle her, she had an idea. A terrible,
horrible, wonderful idea!
What if she could arrange some way of being searched?
Searched...stripped...in front of Anakin...the thrill would be
incredible! Padme enjoyed the power games she played with the
handmaidens who sometimes assumed her identity for security
reasons. She secretly enjoyed being ordered about like a servant,
being made to fetch, and carry, and scrape before her "betters."
Despite her dominant personality, she also had a strong submissive
streak, and the chance to play prisoner was simply too delicious to
miss....
But how could it be done? Her paperwork was in perfect order, and
soon she would be granted her routine clearance.
Padme glanced down at R2D2, the small droid that was accompanying
her on her trip home. Perhaps her little mechanical friend could
once again prove his usefulness....
R2D2, Padme knew, would have the power to strip her of everything.
The loyal little droid could take away her security clearances,
erase her medical records, and leave her utterly at the mercy of
the horny guards who were now running their eyes up and down her
attractive form. R2 could strip her of everything and leave her
with nothing but the clothes on her back....
And the guards, she knew, would know what to do with those.
Of course, there was always Anakin. He was, after all, her
bodyguard, and, as soon as he saw she was trouble, he would
undoubtedly come down to rescue her.
Or would he?
Jedi Knights, as she never tired of reminding him, were
professional goody-goodies, but she knew that every man
had his limits. Only a few hours before, Anakin had
pointedly reminded her that, "I will protect your life,
but I am not your servant. The next time you cause trouble,
you are on your own."
Now she unbuttoned the top buttons on her blouse and smiled at one
of the guards, who leered back at her.
She chuckled. The guard had something on his mind, but it
definitely wasn't assassination.
Would Anakin save her? Padme wasn't sure. The intense young man
took his vows seriously, but she could tell that he was struggling
with his vow of celibacy. She had been teasing him unmercifully,
and this "computer glitch" would fulfil his wildest dreams....
At last, he would see mighty Senator Padme Amidala, the former
Queen of Naboo, sans title, sans power, and most importantly,
sans clothing.
Anakin, she knew, would have complete deniability. Although she
knew he was watching her on the monitors, he could always claim
that he was elsewhere, checking ahead on their security
arrangements. It would hardly be his fault; after all, the
senator was now surrounded by at least a dozen policemen.
On the other hand, as a professional do-gooder, would he really
stand by and watch as an innocent woman was stripped absolutely
stark naked, for the amusement of a group of horny guards? Could
he passively watch them strip away her dignity and tie her to the
table for a humiliating and shameful probing?
She smiled. It would be an interesting experiment. She had
overheard Obi Wan talking about "the conflict" in Anakin, and
she wondered which side would win: the Jedi knight, or the horny
teenager?
Padme leaned over and whispered to her droid, "R2, I want you to go
to a computer port that is not monitored by a guard and is not in
front of a video monitor, and I want you to...."
R2 listened carefully to the instructions, but then swivelled round
and round, making strange sounds.
"Yes, that's right, R2D2," Padme whispered. "Erase everything!"
It was only when she repeated her instructions for a third time
that the helpful little droid wandered off to do his duty. Humans
were strange, but R2D2 knew better than to argue with Padme.
She smiled as the confused droid sneaked off. Without her medical
records, she knew, the guards would have to hose her down and
delouse her.
Of course Anakin would stop the search before that...wouldn't he?
As she neared the station, Padme noticed two Gamorian guards,
better known as "Pig Guards," armed with axes by the door. The
sight was strangely relaxing for the nervous senator.
She knew Anakin was furious with her, and she suspected that he
might let the humanoid guards strip and perhaps even fondle her
a bit before he intervened. But surely he would never let the
disgusting pig guards put their paws on her!
Padme felt her heart racing as she stood nervously before the guard
at the desk. The guard's face broke into an enormous grin as he
scanned her identity card and the red light on his console began
to blink.
"I'm so sorry, miss," he said, unctuously. "But I'm afraid you are
going to have to step to the side, so we can search you."
"Search me?" Padme said, feigning surprise. "But that's
ridiculous. My papers were triple-checked before I left
Coruscant."
"Be that as it may, we are still going to have to search you," the
guard replied. "Step over to the search area, please."
She swallowed hard as the guard in the search area motioned for her
to raise her arms. She eyed the door nervously, half-expecting her
hero, Anakin, to burst through, light saber in hand, to stop this
outrage.
But the security door remained bolted.
The guard slowly, teasingly ran his fingers over her bare arms and
then gently massaged her back. She winced as he moved his hands
over her shoulders and began to slowly and deliberately fondle her
breasts.
She noticed that every camera in the security area was now focused
entirely on her. Anakin, no doubt, was watching her humiliation
from every angle.
When the guard began to playfully squeeze her shapely bottom, she
tried to squirm away, but a sharp pinch reminded the senator that
she was no longer in charge.
Padme glanced nervously at the door. Where was Anakin? Why wasn't
he coming to rescue her?
She bit her lip as the guard's grubby hands slid between her legs.
He took his time groping her most delicate areas, and she was sure
that Anakin would stop this soon.
But she was wrong.
The grinning guard stood in front of her and coyly ran his fingers
through her dark brown hair. "I'm afraid a more thorough search
is required, miss," he said, his voice oozing mock regret. "I'm
going to have to ask you to remove your clothes."
Padme looked over at the bio-scanner in the corner. In just a few
seconds, she knew the device could instantly determine if she were
smuggling contraband or if she had any diseases.
But what fun would that be?
The lecherous guards had decided to bypass the usual mechanical
method in favor of subjecting the helpless female refugee to an
old-fashioned strip-search.
Of course the bio-scan was more reliable, but the leering guards
obviously preferred a "hands-on" approach.
"If you're shy, the guards can help you...," the supervisor said,
as the two pig guards began to approach.
Padme quickly kicked off her shoes and socks. She told herself she
had nothing to fear. Anakin would never allow this.
She slowly slid her pants down to her ankles, deliberately delaying
her exposure as much as possible.
Anakin would save her, if only she gave him more time.
But soon she was standing in front of the guards in nothing but a
brief white t-shirt and sheer, almost transparent, underpants.
Where was Anakin?
She pulled her t-shirt over her head, but quickly covered her
breasts. As she noticed the pig guards adjusting the straps
on the table, she made her decision.
The game had gone far enough. She would reveal her identity to
the guards and inform them that she was under the protection of
the Jedi Knights. There wasn't a policeman in the galaxy stupid
enough to tangle with a Jedi!
But, as she prepared to speak, she felt a strange tightness close
around her throat, almost as if she were being choked. She could
still breathe, but the tightness reduced her attempts to speak to
a childish gurgle.
As soon as she stopped talking, the tightness eased. But, when she
tried to speak again, the unseen hand once more closed around her
throat and rendered her unintelligible.
"Quit stalling, you little bimbo, and drop your underpants," one of
the guards said, gruffly. "We can't wait all day!"
As she defensively reached for her underpants, intending to hold
them up, she felt an unseen force grab the hem of the tiny sheer
garment and WHISK! her panties down to her ankles. She quickly
bent down to try and retrieve the traitorous garment, but was
forced up by a stinging SLAP! across the tender cheeks of her
bare bottom.
Padme spun around, but there was no one behind her. Who had
spanked her? What was happening?
Before she could consider it, two of the guards grabbed her by the
wrists and effortlessly pulled her down onto the exam table. It
took only a few seconds for the guards to pull her panties the rest
of the way off and tighten the straps around her delicate wrists
and ankles.
The guards busied themselves putting on their rubber gloves,
quickly forming a line in front of the exam table. She
grimaced to see the grubby, drooling pig guards struggling
to fit the thin latex gloves over their chubby digits.
Everyone, it seemed, would have a turn between the senator's
legs....
Padme looked to her right. During her slow striptease, one of the
guards had brought out a large tub of grease and set it next to the
exam table.
Her eye's widened as she realized that she was staring directly at
the greasy lubricant that was going to be used in probing her most
secret places....
The naked senator winced as the guards pulled on the straps. She
struggled, but it was a losing battle. Slowly her legs began to
spread, exposing her to the grinning guards.
Above her, she noticed the security camera's probing eye zooming in
for a closer look.
Never again would she underestimate the power of the Force....
Edited by C. Lakewood