Padme Slave Costume Novels & Stories

And claws. Tonight, my Beta wore her usual uniform—a formfitting gold T-shirt, black leather pants, and soft, velvety leather high heeled boots that reached her mid-thigh. Hell if I knew how she fought in them, but I totally see how practical they can be when I considered the incredibly sharp and painfully thin blade, hidden within the stilletos. I have seen them at work and I must say they are a very nice touch. Her compact muscular form looked hard and battle worthy, despite the soft swell of her full breasts and the luscious fall of thick red curls that touched the top of her shoulder blades. Fione had sensed the rise of my wolf, stirring Fione’s instinctive need to guard her Alpha agains

I said, shaking my head negatively. The man's eyebrows widened, and he smiled mockingly. “Interesting. The slave is already starting to rebel.” As soon as he had said his words, he released the chains at his feet. The latter fell to the ground with a dull thud. I saw him remove his belt in a sudden and rapid movement. It took my brain a long time to understand what he was about to do, and when I finally understood, he had already raised his belt. “No…no, I’m sorry.” I said, lowering my head, then I let out a cry of despair, holding out my wrists.

I might not go as far as Ryōta did, but I will do what I can to keep boys away from them. “Is everyone ready?” Riko’s voice pulled me out of my worries about the future. I turned my head, and damn, my heart started to beat out of my chest, and I felt my breath lock up in my lungs. This woman is hands down the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. She’d chosen to dress up like Padme from Clone Wars in the golden with pink flower embroidered off-shoulder gown and the half updo style.

he would not be kind and gentle as it should be. I stopped at his knees and he took a deep breath. I wasn’t wearing much, the slave collar, and a white, silk, spaghetti strap gown that was practically see-through. I was told as the king's slave that undergarments weren’t allowed.. so obviously I don’t have those either. I was surprised when the maids handed me this..I’m a slave and it’s not proper slave attire, but apparently, the King requested it.

She looked at Lysander, who was whimpering in the wreckage. "He will kill me," she breathed. "He can't even get out of a light fixture," Modern Vespera pointed out. Slave Vespera took the hand. Modern Vespera pulled her up. Slave Vespera was thin, malnourished, and dressed in rags. But as she stood, she straightened her spine. She looked at the other Vesperas—the Queen, the Don, the Cyborg, the Man. They were all looking at her with fierce pride.

and John chimed in with "holy shit." Lei was wearing an outfit that resembled that of a Middle Ages slave girl. She had on a bikini like top, her 34D tits barely covered, showing lots of cleavage and all she had on covering her lower half was a piece of silk material draped down across the front and back of her that came down to her ankles, held together on the sides by a thin string. Her entire leg, thigh and hip were exposed along the sides and you could see a hint of her ass cheeks. It was obvious that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Her long, dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. No one said a word. We all simply stared at her. She looked stunning. There was no doubt that sh

Adelaide chose a stunning pomegranate-red evening gown, its neckline and sleeves heavily embroidered with golden totems that perfectly showcased her noble Luna status and commanding presence. Lance changed into a loose, sky-blue robe. The fabric perfectly softened his terrifying battlefield aura, making his tall, broad frame look elegant and gentle—the picture of a refined nobleman.

With one last, lingering glance at me, Damon turned and strode toward the door, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. My body shook as the door slammed shut behind him with a deafening thud, leaving me in cold, oppressive silence. Moments later, a woman walked into the cell and threw a garment at me. My heart sank as I traced the thin revealing fabric. “The king ordered you wear this,” the woman stated flatly. I looked at the garment in disbelief. “What is this? It’s too exposed.” I murmured. The woman didn’t meet my eyes. “This is what slaves wear here.” her words were blunt, final.

I then quickly ran my hands down my body, wanting to get the grim from my little cell off of my slave dress. Which was a thin one-piece slip-on dress that stopped just above the knees. The sleeves stopped just over the top of the shoulder on the upper arm and the neckline sat tight into the junction between the neck and shoulder, still allowing access to the neck but covering the shoulders, descending in a slight v shape at the front.

The sentimental gasping mostly came from women prisoners. Irena became impatient while waiting for her selected prisoner to step into his robotic exoskeleton suit, which would help her prisoner fight against 2Pac. 2Pac was Princess Death Row’s robot. She modeled the machine after the late rap star. Princess Death Row made her way over to Mark and his son with her long flowing black dress dragging behind her.