Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Here is my mostly headcanon driven but heavily based on canon analysis of the gender functions and diversity on Dathomir, focusing on Night clan. Enjoy~
Disclaimer 1- based it on my brief (watched a few videos, read some articles) research on recognised gender diversity across the world- just so you know i’m not pulling all of this from my ass
Disclaimer 2- i do not love the nouns female and male and so I used them as little as possible and im open to suggestion how to replace them entirely with other descriptors
*jingle-jingles u with concept art now read even more*
Since the society is matriarchal in nature and because of highly visible sexual dimorphism the categories of gender it concentrates on that visual presentation and performing roles and duties. As a woman, you are most importantly a part of a clan and so a superior body under protection of the Mother, have access to magick and are the one to dictate the norms. And all that claimed by your pale skin adorn with subtle tattoos and an elongated skull that may be covered with hair. Similarly, before you are a man, you are a breeding tool, inferior, physical power - as your gender role and distinguished by your warm color skin marked with tattoos, horns and lack of hair. Thus Nightsisters are very proud and strict in their appearance and unaccepting of any form of deviance from the predescribed norm. They are in control of the gender assignment at birth and do so heavily based on visual clues. For example every warm color skinned newborn is prescribed the role of man and destined to be left at the Nightbrothers colonies. The same would apply for any trace of horns or anything beyond having pale skin and smooth head, the visual of the genitalia is a lesser consideration in the process. Although it changes with age and if there's any distortion in upholding the gender role or appearance it's met with a threat of banishing from the clan or death (the choice falls on the birthing mother of the fallen sister). As for the Nightbrothers they strongly resent Nightsisters as their tormentors and in essence every trait aligning with the witches image. Although in contrast to them, Nightbrothers are far more accepting of diversity in the visual expression, but notably more so if it can be molded to their expectation.
Such is the case with Daughters of Dathomir, a Nightbrother born individuals who claim feminine identity later in life. Often they discover themselves because of the stronger connection to force (than the rest of the colonies), or by recognising their place among the other Daughters already present in the colony. Nightbrothers treat them as a force-send revenge on the Nightsisters, a distinct category of women born out of their society. And because of that context they exist in - being a feminine made version of dathomirian zabraks- they physically don't differ much from the rest of the colony. They don't have the resources to undergo any physical transition but also willingly keep their masculine traits to signify their origin and place in the Nightbrothers society. Nightbrothers hold them as sacred and so they are hidden away from the gaze of Nightsisters, especially carefully in time of their visits to the colonies. Some of the Daughters of Dathomir deviate from the path laid for them by the Nightbrothers society. Those are called “Falsouls” (standing for false-souls), “fake souls” (or other similar in meaning names) as in their striving for womanhood they land on wanting to be one of the Nightsisters. This is of course seen as vile and a betrayal of the community that raised them in pursuit of something that will never acknowledge them. If they stand by their view of themselves they are exiled from the colony in the manner of traitors. Roaming abandoned, they search for other rejects of the broader Dathomirian society in hope of accessing the possibility to physically transition through use of magick.
Those are known as Scars - self named as a portrayal of being a stroke and a blemish on the surface of Nightsisters rule. They are Nightsisters born individuals adapting masculine identity later in life. Such behavior is unthinkable among the Nightsisters and is heavily ostracized to the point many of them are killed if they did not escape in time. In their identity they strive to perform the role and appearance of the Nightbrothers. To their detriment they are excluded from both fractions - Nightsisters as stated above, and for Nightbrothers they are still regarded as a fruit of their tormentors and merely a pathetic being which could never be one of them - real men of Dathomir, their struggle considered a greater punishment for the Nightsisters. Scars gave up trying to join Nightbrothers colonies so they form their own small groups and in them embrace their idea of dathomirian zabraks customs. They restrain from using magic for any other purpose than physical transition.
In case of intersex and genderqueer individuals their livelihood depends on their capability and will to fit under one of the sets of standards. They are not recognised as a group with a label of their own and rather a rare occurrence. If they claim a part in one of the groups they do so under the label of the established genders - Nightsister, Nightbrother, the third recognized gender of Daughter of Dathomir or Scar. But if they deviate a bit too much from the norm for the role they ought to perform they are met with disapproval, accusations and threat of banishment from the group which in many cases is inevitable.
you mentioned a tummy buldge in ur last post? well i raise you maul x reader with tummy buldge AND a breeding kink hihihihi (bonus points if you sprinkle in some praise n possessiveness), thank youu💋💋
Maul x reader: Give Me All Your Pain
IT'S DONE!!! (after nearly 6 weeks um...) This took ages but I worked hard on this delicious meal.
You 🫵 are legally obligated to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoy. GIVE ME FEEDBACK PLEASE (but if you see a typo, no you don't)
-------------------------------------------------
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Maul has a mental breakdown and goes into a nesting, crotch-nuzzling, cyber-knotting, mating-marathon-frenzy. Sad Maul^tm, yearning, Zabrak mating cycle, robo-cock-knot, crying, desperate, and painfully horny. He needs someone and misses his brother.
(Thinking about his cycle triggering Icarus and Scorns…ahem…4some anyone?)
WC: 7,505
-------------------------------------------------
It had been a long time coming. Maul had his new legs, a new mind, and a new purpose. Many of his years had been spent fighting tooth and nail to survive. He had come back from death more times than he could remember, but he always succeeded. Even with the loneliness he so often endured, he was still here. That had to count for something, right? He thought it did. Planet after planet, team after team, Maul traversed the galaxy for something he could not name. The force connected him to all sorts of strange things and he found more foe than friend. But one thing was certain, Maul was no stranger to ghosts. The dead latched onto him like a parasite-feasting on his sanity at their own will, leaving him void of all he cared for. He began to find peace in the dark. Not by any choice of his own, of course. The former Sith-lord had little keeping him afloat. But time moves on, and the universe keeps on expanding. Decisions after decisions, even the ones that appear so tiny, so insignificant, ripple through space and reach those on the other side. The moment you came into his life, he felt the currents of fate changing way.
The day you joined the team, Maul felt the shift. Your spark lit up everything around you, carrying that tiny flame closer to him, sharing a bit of your warmth. Naturally, he was weary. Trust was a hard thing for him to come by. Betrayal had been woven so tightly into everything he knew. Everyone but you. You were too good. Too honest. Too Kind. You should not have survived here. And yet, you did. Each daybreak you were hard at work, keeping your head down and doing as you were told. It was rather easy to keep to yourself since no one really bothered you. You took breaks and ate on your own schedule, which on the outside looked like you were avoiding your leader entirely. It was not intentional. You just assumed he was not the type of person to inquire about his team's personal lives. Although it worked for a while, Maul needed to ensure all of his unit was compatible. That would not work if you never spoke with him. So, starting that day, he made more of an effort to include you. The man talked a lot and valued your input, so warming up to him was hardly difficult, at least on your end. You jumped at the opportunity to get to know the man.
He pulled away at first, assuming you had less than honorable intentions. You were just another team member after all. The first sign of genuine interest in him had his eyebrows raising. The feint blush of your cheeks, averting eyes, playing with the hem of your shirt, he took it all for nerves until it continued on for far longer than would be normal. The idea of manipulation popped into his head. You were trying to get close to him, find out information through his guard lowering. While you came to him in earnest attempt to get close, he mistook you for a threat. Maul could not conceptualize anyone having a genuine interest in him. But you were so…open. He would find you sitting by yourself, as you often were, observing your as you busied yourself with watching the others at work. Perhaps you were lonely. Though the force, he reached out to search your mind. He could feel the desire emanating from your form, but you would not be the first person in the galaxy looking for someone to warm their bed; although he doubted he could help you there. They all led harsh lives, but you did like him. The ache in his hearts was instantaneous. Why would you of all people fall for him? What did he have to offer you besides suffering and pain? These thoughts plagued him, becoming his new company during those long nights.
You never brought it up directly, but you were there for him when he needed it. Maul began to allow himself to endure your presence. Any time he needed something, you were the one he tasked. Spare parts for his legs, mending his weapons, he entrusted you with those things. Everyone else kept their mental guard up, but never you. It was naive. Dangerous. You were too easy to take advantage of. He watched your nimble fingers patch him up. He could not recall the last time someone touched him without the intention of harm.
“Tell me, what brought you to our team?” He watched you flinch as the wire spark grazed your hand.
“…” you took a breath. “I guess I was looking for a place. You know, somewhere where my skills were needed.” A soft chuckle passes your lips. “Not every day you get to fix up a Sith.” You bit your inner cheek the moment those words escaped. It was not your brightest moment; bringing up his past while sitting in close enough range to get your ribs kicked in. The weight of his gaze doubled, and you fought hard not to look up.
“So…you joined to fix me?” Venom seeped from his words. He had every right to feel offense, but he did not miss the hint of guilt on your face. He knew well enough the comment was not ill-intended, but it still stung.
“I, no, I only meant that I…uh-” You curled into yourself, knowing that whatever you said next would likely make things worse. You quickly listed all your options. Sure, you could lie- if you were quick enough to come up with one. Whether or not it would be believable was another thing. He watched you struggle, expression falling a bit at your distress. He leaned back in his seat with a low sigh.
“How long have you worked with cybernetics?”
You exhaled. “A while.” You thanked the stars he was letting it go. “When I was little, I used to work on any scrap metal I could find. All the kids in the junkyard would bring me things to make. Toys, simple navigation systems, I took to it pretty quickly. But for cybernetics, around a few years.” You finished stripping the damaged wire, grabbing a pair of pliers to adhere the new ones.
He nodded softly. “You are good with them. Far better than some of the others here.” He thought to his Zabrak brothers, who occasionally helped, the pain of one’s loss still deep in the recesses of his mind. “They will need a tune-up again in the coming weeks. Be ready.” Maul knew he was likely to take a lot of damage during this next mission. At least he was kind enough to give you a heads up. The chances that he would be in a volatile mood were high. You nodded and finished your work.
Dinner time arrived, and you joined the table. A few feet down sat Scorn and Icarus. The two brothers scowled, turning to one another in quiet voices. A pang of unease crept up your neck. From the corner of your eye, you took in their makings and horns, internally comparing them each to Maul’s.
“You need something?” Scorn jeered.
You went stiff, offering a small shake of your head. “No.” Turning back to you food, the meal suddenly looking like it would taste a whole lot better in your room. A figure slid in front of you, settling his arms on the table.
“Stay away from him,” Icarus declared. His tone was sharp enough to make the warning well felt. Did he mean Maul? Your mind went to your past conversations with the Zabrak. Perhaps you had offended him more than you realized. You were too anxious to ask for more information and the others soon joined. Every spot of the table was filled except for the head. You looked around the area, investigating for that lean figure.
“Don’t bother. He’s not coming.” Rook interrupted your thoughts as she took her seat next to you.
Surprise passed your face: “Is everything alright?” You couldn’t miss the glare Scorn was giving her. Her eyes shifted, voice quieting.
“He’s…tired.” She refused to say any more. In fact, no one seemed to bring it up. It was as if everyone was in on some big secret and didn’t plan to let you in on it. You finished your meal in silence. The following days passed and you watched as the team finally began to depart. It would be a week or more before your saw them again.
As the sun began to set, the image of Maul boarding the ship was all sorts of wrong: his figure slightly hunched, his legs moving in sluggish pace. The light reveled a thin sheen of sweat over his skin, heated and flushed. Your gut twisted unpleasantly and anxiety seeped in like mist-a cold dread that came in the night, threatening to overtake you. All you could do was hope for his safe return. which came far sooner than expected. For only three days later the ship came back. The air lock descended along with two Zabraks holding up their leader. Maul was in terrible shape. In and out of consciousness, he was sweating like a beast. You only caught a glimpse of him before he was put into his room. You turned to Rook, mouth open in question.
“He’s ill,” she frowned. “I have no idea what’s wrong with him. One moment he was standing, the next he just collapsed. He’s in a lot of pain.” She led you inside. Even Spybot followed, saddened by his inability to go see his creator.
“But Maul doesn’t get sick,” you grimaced, seeing his figure disappear behind the doors. “What could he possibly have?”
She sighed. “I have a feeling those two know.” She nodded to the brothers. “Good luck trying to get it out of them. They aren’t letting anyone inside.”
Both Zabraks were stationed outside Maul’s chamber, looking on edge. That made you feel even worse. If they were worried, how bad was he? As much as you wanted to march right up to them and demand answers, their hostility was palpable. No one would be going in or out while they were here.
Then the night came. With the dark, all sorts of horrible things were brought out. Maul’s pained cries resounded through the base. Everyone was up, accepting they will get no rest tonight. You split from the group, heading down the hall. The dull and flickering lights seemed a cruel addition the sounds that came from behind that door.
“Make it stop! Please make it stop…it burns, I…I cannot go on…” Maul’s mind twisted with terrors long suppressed. He caught his own reflection. “Brother? Is that you?” He quieted down as his eyes took in his own shadow. “No, I am alone… There is only-ah!” A sharp pain in his loins sent him coiling over. Features twisted, sweat dripped from his skin as his fingers curled into the sheets beneath him. All sorts of figures passed in front of his eyelids. There was nothing to ground him.
“What’s going on?” You demanded. Icarus stepped in the way.
“Leave. Now.”
“He’s hurting! Why won’t you tell me what’s-” Your back met the ground and the air left your lungs. It took you a full minute to recover from the shock. Did he really just push you? Dusting yourself off, you tried again. This time, the pain in his expression was clear.
“Please…I just want to help.”
He looked to his brother for a moment, noting the subtle nod.
“Maul is…sick.”
“With what?” You pushed.
“It’s…a Zabrak thing.”
Your mind went through every possible fact you knew about their species, but nothing came up.
“When a Zabrak male comes of age, he gets… urges. You understand what I’m saying?” His eyes narrowed on you. Urges? He couldn’t possibly mean-
“They typically subside with age. But it seems someone has triggered it.” He glared at you. “It will be a good week before he’s back to normal, and that’s if he’s lucky. We’ve never seen a rut so bad before.”
“But…how? He doesn’t even have a-” You cut yourself off. The guy survived being cut in half, for kriffs sake. A Zabrak mating cycle was the least surprising thing at this point. Scorn interrupted before you could say anything else.
“It’s your fault, you know. You should have let him be.”
You huffed. “How? We’re not, I mean, we never… Sure I admire him, but it’s not like that!” You searched for some excuse, some way to rationalize this mess.
“It doesn’t matter. Ruts run on hormones and pheromones. Besides, he’s strong with the force. If he, on some level, feels a pull towards you, instinct will take over. Consciously or not. It’s in our blood; to protect and care for our mates, and to father children.”
“Maul would have been a strong leader in his clan. It’s a shame what happened,” Icarus stepped closer, “but you really need to go. If he gets a whiff of your scent, he’ll be in more agony than even he can handle.”
Your shoulders dropped. The very thought of leaving him alone to endure the pain made seemed impossible. What could you do? You were no healer or expert on his people. It was better to leave it up to the nightbrothers and let them take care of their own. You retreated to your room, contenting yourself with the knowledge that his rut would soon pass.
It was not easy to fall asleep. Your mind flashed with images of him-dark and wet. His body heaving with hormones. Up and down and up and down, the hypnotic rhythm of his breathing, groans and moans, hips gyrating in primal motion. Between wakefulness and sleep, your fingers slipped below your waistband, easing the ache. You were woken up to a dampness between your legs. It left a spot on the sheets. The next day comes and goes, and then one more. The flashes of him only continued. Scorn and Icarus were exhausted. They have been guarding Maul’s doors for three days straight and have hardly had a break. Rook finally talked them into taking shifts and getting some rest.
You could not stand it any longer. Joining some of the others, you went out to stock up on some items. Hydration liquids and non-perishables were a necessity for this line of work. You got enough to last you a few weeks. Even with the much-needed outing, your mind could not be free from what you had learned. Had you really trigged something so… You shook your head to clear the thought away. Now was not the time to let your mind wander to more perverted things. Upon your return in the evening, the brothers were in a panic. You ran to them in haste.
“What’s going on?” Your voice shook. Their marked faces were pulled down in worry as they blocked your way. “Hey!-let me through!”
“I’m sorry…We couldn’t stop him.”
“Stop him? From what??” Your eyes found the doors of Maul’s chambers: metal dented and torn from their hinges. Your eyes widened. He did that?
“He’s looking for your scent. He’s not himself right now. It’s dangerous for you to be here.”
You stepped back. “O-Okay. I’ll go somewhere. I’ll get my things-”
“No, he’s…sort of taken over your room.”
“He what?” Your heart sank.
“It’s where your sent is strongest, he-”
You didn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence before you were running to find him. Each step closer to Maul felt more difficult, like a weight in your body. Standing outside your own door, heat washed over you. When did you get so…wet? The ache bloomed between your legs, slippery. A deep breath filed your lungs and-Kriff…what was that smell? Your slick doubled in response to it. The feint pressure in your head brought it all to you: the force.
Maul was everywhere. His scent, his presence, it was all you could think about. Your feet carried you inside and you paused a moment to let your eyes adjust to the dark. Taking a tentative step inside, you hardly registered the sound of the doors closing behind you.
“Maul?” You spoke in soft tone. A low rumble filled your ears as your bed came into view. Furniture was broken and scattered about the place, and your clothes were piled high, creating a wall around the mattress. In the center, Maul’s bare form lay curled around your pillows. His face buried into it.
It was a pitiful sight; the once strong Sith Lord now reduced to baser instincts. You took him in, tracing the lines of his body: from the muscles of his arms, down his back, the soft gentle slopes of his ass. His body shook with tremors, unaware of your presence climbing over the barrier and onto the bed beside him. But at the feel of your hand brushing his temple, his eyes shot open: wide and afraid. He lurched away, curling himself against the backboard, marking the distance between you two.
“Leave! Leave me! I can’t-” His chest heaved from the effort it took to form a coherent sentence. The member between his legs was dripping with need, red and heavy.
The sight of it had you restless. You approached him slowly, reaching out to take his hand. He allowed it, immediately relaxing into your touch, curling his form into your lap.
“Oh Maul, why didn’t you tell me?” Your thumb brushed over his cheekbone. His face buried in you, not wanting you to see him in such a state.
“How could I? Reduced to…this. I should be darkness. I should be FEAR! I am half the man you deserve.” His voice broke, unable to stop the flow of tears. The pain in your chest spread with every word that passed through his lips, so you did the one thing you knew would help. You touched him. His body stiffened as your warm grasp enveloped his cock. It was so heavy in your hand, the flushed and swollen flesh soft against your palm. The tip felt like velvet as you ran you thumb over the slit.
“It’s okay, I’m all yours.” Your voice softened in hopes it would sooth him. Those words seemed to switch something inside his brain. You gasped as the ceiling suddenly came into view. Flipping you onto your back, he moved down your body and began spreading your legs apart. You had no times to register what you were seeing before your felt his nose press firmly into your crotch, inhaling the scent. He held you firm in his grasp, teeth bared in a hungry snarl as he ripped away every layer of fabric, leaving your lower half bare before him. It was certainly a shock, seeing him so feral and unreserved. He gave you no time to blush before he buried his face into his alter, huffing the musky aphrodisiac to fill his lungs as much as he could. It was not enough.
“I cannot stop,” he shuddered, going in for more. The tears from his eyes never ceased, and instead fell upon your skin as his lips latched onto you. Your stomach tightened in response.
“Please don’t make me stop…” He begged, licking and lapping, moaning with such spirit he might very well have been more machine than man. Digging into your thighs, the tip of his horns left small dents. There would probably be cuts in the morning, but that was a problem for future you. His tongue writhed rigorously to part your folds, searching for your dripping hole. The wet thing was quickly successful, and it slid inward, curling around inside your walls.
“Divine…absolutely divine…” His muffled words reached your ears. Nothing could pull him out of this: no enemy and certainly not you.
“M-Maul…” You cried out in a squeal. He had your face scrunched, toes curling, and back arching. His act gave such pleasure you thought you might die. Maul gave no words of encouragement, nor any comment at all. His entire purpose was to feast on your cunt. In his trance, his hips worked against the mattress, grinding the sensitive tip back and forth against the fabric. The sweet fragrance of your arousal made his entire being buzz. He felt you begin to tighten on his tongue.
“I- I’m gonna-” As your hand flew to his head, gripping his horns for support, he only sucked harder. One orgasm rolled into another, and another after that. The only image became the back of your eyelids. Such unyielding pleasure was only something you could dream of until this very moment. Every sound of his slurping was more obscene than the last.
It all happened rather quickly. You were not sure what moment your top disappeared, or when his face became level with yours. Your breath caught the moment his head push against your entrance. It was just as warm as the rest of him. Stretching your walls one inch at a time. He watched your face, enraptured as your eyes rolled back into your head, the full weight of his cock settling in your belly.
“You feel that?” He panted.
You nodded, forcing yourself to focus on him, taking in the image of him above you. A terrifying, beautiful creature he was. The line between real and synthetic blurred. Where did Maul begin, and where did he end? You clenched around him, softly moaning as his hand traced your skin. His palm pressed into your lower belly.
“You feel me there, inside of you? I have waited and wondered how you would take me.” He took a long moment to admire the outline of himself, tracing his thumb along the length: “I am going to enjoy this lovely cunt of yours, and you are going to thank me for it.”
Maul leaned forward, hoisting your legs up and letting his instincts lead you into a mating press. His arms hooked underneath your own, keeping your torso tight against his. His cock took all breath from your body, and he wasted to time in setting a steady pace. He hardly pulled out before sliding in again.
“Shit-” Your eyes filled with tears immediately. His lips pressed firmly to yours. He wanted you to taste yourself. More than anything, he needed you to understand how much he liked it. Whimpers and whines were the only thing you had energy for. How could you possibly survive this? Before any doubt could enter your mind, the tip of his cock nudged into your core at just the right angle, kissing that special spot over and over and over again. Your grip on him loosened, and his tightened in response. It was the kind of mind-numbing pleasure that took all your strength away. He could feel it. Position after position, you had no sense of where you were. Maul’s face was constantly buried into your neck. He must have been letting his canines grow out, given the sharp pinch every time he bit down onto your shoulder. He was wracked with sobs and moans, his own body unable to let up as he lost himself in the feel of you. He could not, for anything, describe what he felt. No torture, no salvation, could bring him such glorious agony as the feel of your sopping went cunt sucking him in.
“Unghh,” he snarled, pounding away. “Yes, YES, just like that!” His eyes were rolled back into his head as his drool coated you. “So beautiful…so good for me.”
The heat was becoming uncomfortable, sweat coating your back and soaking into the sheets.
“I can’t-Maul! S-slow down,” you cried out.
He did not let up. Just as your vision started to go, he seized up. The mass of his cock inside you seemed to double as you felt something much larger pressing against your entrance, the heated base seemed to swell: his knot. It expanded, locking him up inside you. Those small whimpers and movements of his finally came to an end and it was minutes until his mind cleared.
You stayed there, pressed to him and lying in the aftermath of what just occurred. How long had it been? Had it all ended already? You thought to yourself, resting your eyes. Part of you was a bit disappointed thinking that was all you would get; that he would retreat into himself and never look at you again. It was his nature to be closed off. That’s all you ever knew him as.
His breath began to ease against your neck, and he finally lifted himself to look at you. He stilled. Every action crashed down on him as he took in your form; overheated skin drenched in sweat-his or yours, definitely both-a spread of his saliva on your jaw, neck, and shoulder. The bruises began to flourish. You could feel him staring and opened your eyes. For a moment, he looked as if he were going to cry again, but no tears came. His lips parted, but he struggled to find the right words. A first for him, truly. You must have known what would happen coming here. He was so lost in is rut. Had he ruined everything? He knew very well what judgement felt like-he had Sidious to thank for that. But he did not want your judgment. His eyes fell to his hand, feeling your own take it in a firm grasp. Bringing it to your breast, you pressed it closer, just over your heart. The slowing beat brought a heavy sigh from his chest. Contentment: That is what he felt from you.
“Why did you come here? I could have hurt you.” Maul battled with his own desires, struggling to accept that you enjoyed this as much as he did. The guilt would have eaten him up if it were not for your very clear enjoyment. He rolled to his side, bringing you with him. The adjustment produced a shift to his cock. The swell felt different on your side. You whined softly at the feeling.
“I wanted to, Maul. I couldn’t let you suffer like this.” Curling into his chest was a welcome respite from the strenuous activity. “It was awful, hearing you in pain. I didn’t mean to cause it. If I had known that, well…I’m not sorry we did this.” Your head tilted up to take in his expression. Those tired eyes, soft and satiated, stared back.
“You understand, then.” He spoke more to himself than to you. “My rut will last another four days at best. I am not sure how long of a break I can give you.” His brows furrowed, tone darkening: “I will have you at every hour, each day. You will not get much sleep.” The low rumble of his voice vibrated down into his chest and against your cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to add some reasoning and calm his worries.
“I’ll be fine. I just need water, and a refresher.” A tired smirk tugged at your lip. “There is no reason we can’t bathe and help you at the same time.” He was far from amused. The Zabrak gripped your chin, forcing your gaze back onto him.
“I am serious. I will not see you in pain just to ease my discomfort. I cannot ask that of you. I should have done better at hiding it.” His hold softened and fell to your arm, tracing over the damp skin, feeling the goosebumps rise.
“You aren’t asking. I’m offering.” You stated decidedly. Any chance you could get to have him again must be taken How many chances would you get to have him like this? Your hips shifted, core squeezing his knot. “…How long will it take to go down?”
“Mmm…” He purred, muzzling his head against yours. He breathed in your scent, enjoying the sweat and mess. “It may take fifteen minutes, maybe longer if you don’t keep still.” His mind was quiet for now.
“Fifteen minutes!?” The idea was tortuous; being held together so intimately for so long. But it was not unpleasant by any means. Maul’s expression softened: he looked young for a moment, almost nervous. It passed as soon as you noticed. “How long have you felt like this?” You quietly asked.
“I’m not sure. I do not think I realized it until my rut began.” His mind reached out to yours. “You should take better care to guard your mind. I could see your desires far too easily.” You felt his smirk and heat lit up your face.
“Oh.”
“Yes, Oh.” He mused. “You have quite the imagination. Very creative, I must say.” He chuckled and you buried your face further into him, your voice muffled.
“Don’t tease me…” You were sure your cheeks were as red as his skin. “What now? We…do this for a week, and then what?”
“Then,” he paused, “I would like this to continue. Not just in this room, but outside of it.” Maul knew what he was suggesting-that you see each other beyond a professional setting. There was a clear like there. But at this point, the two of you were far past it. Still, he hoped for your approval.
“I’d like that.” You told him with ease. While it would be a big change, the idea of it excited you. What would he be like courting you?
The time passed, and after settling down long enough, his knot softened enough to slip out. You bit your lip at the sudden loss of him, feeling a bit colder and emptier. Down below, your core was puffy and well-used. It pulsed with a heartbeat of its own, knowing it would soon go through the same event. Maul’s rough palm contrasted his mild touch as his hand hooked under your knee and spread your legs apart, inspecting his work. His eyes tracked the trail of his seed as it began to trickle out of your stretched hole. The sight was very beautiful, he thought; physical evidence of your devotion to him, of your willingness to endure. Your cheeks flushed at his examination, not knowing what was going through his mind. He let go, saying nothing. Gathering some strength, he went collect some water for you two in the far area of the room. The supply box still had some rations, and you recalled your most recent purchases dropped at the doors. He would find them easily.
For now, that nasty fever of his had quelled. Maul had never been more thankful for his mechanical legs. They could hold his tired form, unlike your real ones. He returned holding a glass.
“What time is it?” You asked as he kneeled at your side.
“Midday. We’ve been at it for nearly thirteen hours.” His hand came to support the back of your head as you drank, droplets spilling down your neck as you swallowed. He licked his lips, watching as the water raced down the peak of your breasts. Setting the glass aside, his thumb collected the liquid, running the pad over the peak of your nipple to feel it stiffen under his touch. His pointer joined, giving it a firm tug.
“Sss…” You inhaled sharply, neck stretching back and eyes fluttering at the jolt. He watched, enthralled by the response. The weight between his legs grew heavy once more; pained heat growing below. He let his hand drop and stood to full height. His cock became the center of your attention. You took in the sight of it, hard and bobbing slightly from the movement, leaking at the tip. His balls were just as heavy, full and firm under the base.
“Again? Already?” Only minutes ago it was limp.
“You are surprised.” He commented. “It seems you underestimate what you do to me.”
“I didn’t know Zabrak’s had such fast turnaround time,” you joked, but he seemed less amused.
“Does it hurt?” You ask lightly. It looked the same as before: heavy and aching. He nodded, taking a deep breath.
“It does. More than I thought it would.” His eyes fell to his member. For years he had separated all desires from his mind-forced to endure his natural cycle alone, denying himself release. As a young Sith in training, there were many times he thought it would kill him. “It has been a long time since I felt like this,” his hand gently pet over your hair, “but you have brought it out in me. You have brought me back to life.” A shudder ran through him as he watched you wet your lips, leaning up to catch the tip in your mouth, just missing.
“You can try harder than that,” Maul chuckled. With each attempt, his length seemed to jump away at the last second. The control he had over his cybernetic attachment was impressive, if not annoying. Your eyes snapped to his. He was doing it on purpose. How delicious it was for him to watch your poor attempts at securing his length, chasing after it like a rare prize. Had he been any other Zabrak, he would have been at your mercy entirely. A thought passed through his mind: would Savage had teased you so? Would Scorn or Icarus make you beg? But Maul was no ordinary Zabrak. His pain ran deep, and his pleasures twisted to tightly so that even his most primal state could not escape the change.
“So close, my dear. You can do it.” He gave a sharp-toothed grinned, the mocking of his tone and heavy gaze was the immediate cause for burning humiliation to wash over you. It felt wonderful. Just one look from him and you were gone. Upon that comment, you finally had enough. You grasped his length, guiding it to you mouth and latching into it. His hand found a home in your hair, tugging the roots with firm handling.
“Mmm, that’s it, my dear.” His lip curled back as he guided your mouth, watching himself disappear. Up and down you went, hypnotizing him with your skills. The salty essence bloomed on your tastebuds, a flavor you would soon get familiar with. His chest heaved as your tongue flicked the underside.
“It seems you are the tease.” He forced himself to calm down. That wild creature inside of him threated to claw his way out, but Maul took care to stay in control. Never before had he been tested in this manner. As good as it felt, his desire urged him towards other things. He pulled back, the dim lights catching on the long strand of saliva which attached itself from his tip to your bottom lip. He moaned at the sight, wiping it away.
“On your hands and knees. I want to see what is mine.” He brought you in position at the center of the bed, grabbing a handful of your buttocks to spread you open. He fixed his gaze upon your second hole, watching it twitch. “Mm, you present yourself so well for me.” He admired your secret places, memorizing every angle, curve, fold, and hair. Here you were, this innocent creature; vulnerable under his care and yet so willing to take anything he gave you. Maul felt pride welling up in his chest.
The fever returned now, more intense than before. His palms were clammy on your rear, and he could feel the precipitation gathering along the seams where flesh met metal. He could feel the chafing, but he had more important things to think about. The fever he knew would linger around much longer this time. His hearts pounded in his chest, and his mouth watered. The urge to mount you swept over him. Suddenly, his wad of warm spit collided with its puckered target, gradually dripping downwards between your folds and onto the bed. You went ridged.
“Maul?” You tensed, voice shaky.
His palm soothed over your backside: “Do not worry, my dear. I plan to take your pretty cunt only…for this week, at least.” He lined up and started to push inside. His last release was still thick and warm inside of you, and the saliva provided enough lubrication for an easy round two.
“Ohhh stars,” he hissed. All the breath in his lungs caught still as he sank inside completely. A wave of heat raced up his back. He knew you felt it: the cybernetic sack between his legs was full of his love for you. Leaning over, his chest came into full contact with your back, hooking his head in the junction of your soft shoulder, lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “Comfortable?” He lingered a moment to let you adjust.
You inhaled. What could you say to that? The man was as deep as he could get. Like the gentleman he could be, Maul reached for another pillow, sliding it under you for support. He was, at the very least, aware enough to take your comfort into consideration. You pushed back against him in confirmation to begin.
He was far more tentative this time, his hips moving in gentle pace. Snaking around your front, his palm pressed into your belly, feeling for the bulge he knew would be there. Sure enough, the outline of his member filled his hand entirely. There was no part of you that was not his. Maul’s languid pace lasted no more than five minutes before he began picking up speed. The wet squelch of your loins colliding would have echoed if not for the wall of items around the bed. Surely it would be broken by the end of this. Your ears were filled with a symphony of sounds: grunts and growls. Some came from him, but Maul ripped noises from your throat you had no idea could be produced. Pressed between him and the mattress, his arm snaked up between your breasts and his fingers slipped inside of your mouth, urging you to suck on them.
“Mmph…” Your eyes rolled back, drool slipping from your lips. He felt around your mouth, tracing over your molars and tongue. His voice rumbled against your cheek.
“Look at you, filthy thing.” He trembled at the feel of your mouth and hole tightening around him. “You come here, you-ahh, you fantasize about me: “How large is he,” you wonder. “What position would he fuck me in,” yes, my dear, I know all your thoughts. You cannot hide your wants from me.” The dark timber of Maul’s voice reverberated in your head. Every taunting remark brought a new wave of slick from your cunt. His thrusts deepened, and the beads of sweat continue to pour from his skin. He grits his teeth.
“You touch yourself every night, hoping I might hear you-” your body rocked with his, unable to keep your head up: “Oh I hear you loud and clear. Are you truly so desperate for me, soaking for a man with more blood on his hands than you could imagine?” His fingers slipped from your mouth, reaching for that sacred spot between your shaking legs. It is hot and pulsating against his fingertips.
“Maul!” You sobbed as the pleasure built up. His mouth pressed against the back of your neck, leaving moist kisses. How different he was once he got inside you… The sensation was larger than any ocean, pushing and pulling him further under the tides of bliss, a crescendo of emotions. Every bit of reserve shattered.
“You are so warm, so very warm…” Maul cried. The tears flowed freely from his eyes, carrying years of pain within them. The drive of his hips commanded a new man to come forth, one who’s only option was to reveal himself completely. “You have all of me. Tell me I am yours…I don’t want to let you go… never letting you go… Please don’t leave me!” Each declaration of sympathy was paired with his erratic pounding. There was nothing but feeling left in him. The Zabrak’s ecstatic motions blurred into primal heaven; atonement that could only be found when his cock drilled into you.
“Don’t stop, Maul…” It took all your strength to be able to speak. The hurting in his voice touched something deep inside your heart. “Give it to me, give me everything.” Your begging spurred him on. He wants to please you, to bring you to great heights, and greater yet. He lost himself in your scent and skin, feeling everywhere he could. His throat was raw from his sobs. Your body tremored under the force of him. His sexual agony was felt with each sharp thrust of his hips, leaving you in a state of delight; the lines between pain and pleasure blurring in perfect harmony-a selfless servitude: Everything is just how it should be. He brought you closer, if possible, and his hold on you never loosened. Part of him feared you might turn to ash under his touch-that he might burn every part of you away with his lust. In that hormone-fueled delusion, Maul came. Hard. The force of his orgasm triggered your own, and for that moment, like each before, your souls merged as one. His length was producing more seed than he knew he could make. It was as if his body instinctually knew to take over-to give you everything it had. Although he was aching and exhausted, he could not stop. Outside, the sun raised and set, a natural cycle running against his own. He had years to make up for, and you only had minutes between each knotting to recover: using the refresher, hydrating, or wiping the fluids from you, but the fever eventually broke.
A knock at the door brought Maul out of his mind. Who would dare to interrupt him at a time like this? He angered at the scent of his Zabrak brothers lingering outside of the doors. He is quick to bring up the flat sheet, covering your forms with it. Those once clean sheets were ripped in various spots and soaked through in others. No one would see you like this. They had no right. The timing was all the worse, considering his knot was still firmly locked inside you.
“What do you want?” His voice boomed.
“Are you…finished?” Scorn cringed at the wording. He and Icarus could smell the sex from the streets. It was a heady scent. Meanwhile, the others were getting worried. Judging by the vivid noises, and the fact that you had been in there for a good few days by this point, they had no clue what shape you were in.
He sighed internally: “Bring sustenance,” Maul replied, knowing his kind understood what would be needed. The retreating steps eased his anxiety, and he turned back to you.
“You are to stay here. Understand?” His lips brushed against your ear, then pressed a soft kiss to your damp hairline.
“Can I not even stretch my legs?” You teased, curling around his form. He hummed in satisfaction at your closeness. “Fine… I suppose I can stay here. Not like I can walk anyways.” You refused to look at the state of your lower half, feeling perfectly well what it looked like. It was a good thing Maul was talented with his hands-he would have no issue fixing you up. Well over a week ago you were kneeling before him, working on his body, and now he would soon do the same for you.
His eyes shifted to the door, listening to the items being set outside.
“It’s a territorial thing for your kind, right? Keeping me safe?” Your lips press to his jaw. He swallows.
“Yes,” Maul’s eyes fell shut. “They know well enough to stay away from you. Traditionally, a male creates a nest for his mate-a comfortable place to breed her.” The idea of it had your mind whirling. “I will make a nest for us; a better one than this…something more secure.” His fingers traced the length of your spine, pressing around, feeling for any tension.
“Ah-” you gasped, the pressure was just enough to uncover the reality of your state. He frowned and eased his hold on you.
“You are sore. You should have told me earlier.” He scolded himself internally for allowing himself to cause you injury. A promise was made that his next cycle would be far less needy-if he was lucky.
“I didn’t want to worry you. Besides, I was too busy cumming.” You grin to yourself, feeling well enough to be cheeky.
His eyes narrowed at your blatant response. “You will tell me whenever you feel pain.” Your smile softened him.
“This is the last of it,” He referred to his knot. “You will drink, and eat, and I will bathe you. Then you will sleep.” He left no room for argument.
Not even a coma would be enough rest for you after this.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
