Title: Interview With A Sith Lord
Author: Jenny Dare     jeni_dare@angelfire.com
Rating: It's written in my first person. Whattya think?! NC-17 to be
sure! (eventually...)
Category: PWP-ish. Humor-ish, I hope!
Archive: Sith_Chicks, and anyone who wants it, just please let me
know, okay?
Summary: It's tough being a reporter. Until you get the opportunity
to go one on one with Darth Maul. What line of questioning would you
present??
Disclaimer: George owns Darth. I own me. Unless GL wants to buy me
and then I'm for sale! No moola being made...
Author's Notes: OK. I'm doing this on a whim. It's been sitting on
my hard drive forever. It's not finished. Should I finish it?
Depending on feedback...I may be inspired to do just that. This
part's mostly a tease... <eg> Oh, but don't be afraid to tell me
that it sucks. I can take it! DM is a little out of character,
which I generally don't do...
Oh...and thanks to Anne Rice for the title play...
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Part 1

It was an interesting assignment, I thought to myself as I walked
down the corridor to my office. It was very early morning, just
past daybreak. And within the hour the halls of this building, the
building which housed the operations of RAVAGE! magazine, would be
burgeoning with people.

I glanced up to the chron on the wall. Two hours to finish
preparing. A little short for an interview like this.

An interview with a Sith Lord.

This job had about run it's course for me, so I was hoping this
feature would bring things out of the stagnant state they'd been
in. The beginnings of the morning sunlight in the Coruscant sky
flooded through the windows, casting shadows over my legs as I
neared the office. Had I dressed appropriately for a meeting such
as this? As far as I knew, I was the only journalist who'd been
offered the opportunity to interview anyone in the Sith order.

If, indeed, this guy was for real.

Catching the reflection of myself in the mirrored wall outside
my office, I paused for a moment. Short black skirt, white blouse,
tucked in. Simple, professional. It would have to do.

When I opened the door to my office and locked it behind me, what I
saw was an incredible thing.

The living, breathing version of this creature that I'd been given
pictures and holos to use as reference, was calmly sitting at my
desk. I probably should've been more startled than I was.

"Darth Maul, I presume," I said, tossing my planner on the desk
in front of him.

"Yes," he replied. Alluring voice. That would sound very nice in
playback.

"Well I'd offer you a seat but I see you've already taken mine,"
I mused. I figured this was going to be one of those clever
one-liner situations. Instead, he stood, and brushed past me,
making no effort to avoid contact. He took the chair on the other
side of my desk and leaned back, his ankle crossed over one knee.
"I suppose I ought to wonder how you got past security and into
my office, but given that you're a Sith Lord...that should serve
as explanation enough, right?"

The faintest smile crossed his lips, but he said nothing. I decided
to just move on.

"You're early," I said, "I'm not really prepared but I suppose we
should get on with it." I prompted the engage button on my voice
recorder and settled back into my chair, taking a good look at him.

"Interesting tattoo," I said.

"Yes," he replied.

"I suppose it has all sorts of significance and meaning, right?"

"Yes,"

"That you won't venture to tell me, of course?"

"That's correct."

"Alrighty then," I tried, "Let's start with a bit about you. Why the
Dark Side?"

"Power."

"I've known some pretty powerful Jedis in my time," I countered.
"What makes you think you're more powerful than them?"

Maul merely smiled.

"Okay," I continued, seeing that this was going to take more work
than I'd originally expected, "Why don't you tell me how you plan
on utilizing this power. Against the Jedi of course, but why does
this drive you so?"

He began explaining to me about the Sith Order; about how, a
millennia ago, the Sith were a strong and numerous bunch, of how
since then the Jedi had gone to great lengths to make sure they
never rose again, and that their memory was sqelched to the point
of oblivion. About half way through his speech I remembered that
I worked for RAVAGE! magazine and not Coruscant Weekly News, and
I leaned over my desk and really stared at him. He stopped short
in the middle of a sentence.

"Do you have a mate?" I asked. I was surprised that he didn't
hesitate to answer me.

"No." I smiled and cocked my head.

"Do you want one?"

"No." Damn but if he wasn't enticing.

"Indeed," I said, still not moving back, "why not?"

"I don't need any distractions."

"Distraction from what? What do you do when you're not out stalking
Jedi?"

"Train."

"Really. Just train?"

"For the most part."

I wondered to myself how far I could take this flirtation, or
how far I dared to take it. That didn't take me long to decide.
I got up and walked around my desk, circling past him to sit on
the sofa behind him. He swiveled around in his chair to face me,
and as I sunk down I crossed my legs slowly. His eyes moved to
watch them as I did. Ah, a tried and true gesture. Works every
time.

"So," I sighed, pleased that I'd gotten his attention, "no mate.
Can't imagine that you spend your nights alone when you're finished
with all that training." He raised a brow and captured my stare,
those fire eyes wildly hypnotic.

"Perhaps you'd be interested in just going through the motions?"
I said in a low voice that practically dripped with lusty
suggestion. He leaned over, expressionless, and ran his hand
along my thigh.

"It is you who is interested in going through the motions," he said.

"Maybe," I said, "Or maybe I'm just trying to get the inside scoop
for my story. The women who read this magazine aren't going to want
to know about your revenge against the Jedi. They'll want to know if
you have like, a secret appendage that you use for sex."

"A secret appendage?" He actually smiled at that one.

"Well actually it was my sister who was wondering that one," I
admitted. "What shall I tell her?" I leaned into his hand, which
was still trailing up my leg, and placed my own palm flush against
his muscular thigh. Damn again, I thought, this guy is pure muscle.

"Find out for yourself," he said simply.

"I can't reach that far," I said and moved away from his hand.
"Come here."

He got up and walked a step or two so that he was standing before
me, his hips right at eye level. I reached up and pushed back his
cloak and robe, smoothing my hand over the firm line of his sides
as I did. He was rock hard all over, and the swingy bottom of his
garment gave a strange sense of motion, even though he was standing
perfectly still. I pressed my face into his stomach, just below his
belt and pulled at it with my teeth.

"You are a delicious mystery," I said, "shrouded beneath layers of
black cloth and Dark secrets." I continued to bite against his
clothes, slowly reaching to unlatch his belt which made a lovely
thud as it hit the floor. He shrugged his shoulders out of his
cloak, and that fell into a pile of pleated fabric at his feet.
I quickly made history of his boots, and he was accommodating
enough to slip out of his outer tunic. The anticipation of seeing
him nude before me was more of thrill than I'd had in a long time
during a job. I looked up to see his eyes gazing down contently
at me. "What will I find beneath all these wonderful wraps?" Just
the hint of a smile passed over his lips.

"You will see," he said, just as I found the fasten on the front
of his pants and eased them off his hips...

I guess it shouldn't have surprised me that he went commando...
the minute those pants were halfway down his hips I realized that
they were the last layer between my face and his Sithly tool. He
still had one thin tunic covering him, though, so my view was
somewhat obscured.

"Don't you get hot under all those clothes?" I asked. His skin
was smooth and warm, but showed no evidence of being heated to
the point of wearing something like five layers of clothing.

"No."

I could feel the stiff length of his member bobbing beneath the
sheer fabric of his last tunic, and I allowed my cheek to brush
against it, my open mouth to occasionally wander close enough to
touch it but never actually engulf it, while my hands ran slowly up
the inside of his thighs, the light scratch of my nails tickling as
they dragged an upward path. When I couldn't take another moment of
the mystique, I reached up to part the tunic and he allowed it to
slide off his shoulders, his nude body now before me, the impressive
size of his erection now jutting aggressively in my face. No secret
appendage here, I thought; standard issue, if on the large size.
He was not only long, but also quite thick, and very beautifully
shaped. For the first time, I traced my fingertips along the length
of him and began to slide his cock slowly through my loose fist.

"Not baaaad," I cooed, allowing my lips to brush against the swollen
tip.

"I know," he replied coolly.

"What do you mean, 'I know'?" I asked with a smile. It was a strange
reply for sure.

"Exactly that. I know."

"How did you become an authority on the male organ and the
comparative size thereof?"

"You aren't the first woman to say that to me," he said. "And you
were thinking it so loudly I couldn't help but hear it from your
thoughts."

Oh, right, I realized. He has that Force-mind read thing. Not
wanting to give him too much of an ego trip, I amended that
comment.

"Well, it isn't the biggest one I've had, though." I said.

"No. The second biggest."

"Damn." Duped again.

"And the other one was too big, and it hurt you."

"Hurt in a good way."

"Not entirely."


"Stop that," I said. He only smirked down at me.

His cock was tattooed in an intricate design that matched the motif
on his face, same colors, though I ventured to figure that the red
was the ink and the black was actually the pigment of his skin.
Taking his length into my mouth long and slowly, I circled my
tongue over its tightly swollen head and decided to change the
subject.

"Ouch," I said, "that tattoo job must've hurt." His breathing was
gradually becoming deeper and heavier as I moved him in and out
between my lips.

"You have an irrational fear of pain."

"No I don't," I said, biting the underside of his balls, making
him gasp in shock and titillation. "A little pain can be a wonderful
thing. Besides, I have a tattoo myself. Not in such a sensitive
place, but...you'll probably see it. Eventually." I grinned
wickedly up at him, then began a quicker rhythm with my mouth.
Before I could even settle into it, he pulled me up by both
shoulders.

"Soon I should think," he growled, his face right next to mine. I
arched my back, pressing into the stiffness that gravitated toward
me, and his hands found the zipper in back of my dress with no
trouble. His eyes were great to stare at, intense and wild, and I
almost hated to shut my lids as he kissed my mouth and slid my
dress down off my shoulders. His movements were direct, calculated
and very skilled, and I found the heel of his palm pressed firmly
against my navel, his fingertips brushing teasingly beneath my
panties before I could even register what was happening in my mind.

No matter. I didn't need to think when things were feeling this
delicious, this slippery and wet, this decadent. I reached between
us, my hand bumping against his wrist which was flexing with the
rhythm of his fingers that caressed me, and I grasped his shaft
tightly, squeezing the tip and rubbing it against my belly,
spreading the slick drops which oozed slowly from him. I pressed
my other impatient hand into the small of his back, bringing his
body to lock tighter against mine, and kicked off my shoes.

"Want you," I mumbled around the wet smacking of our kiss, "now..."

"I know," he said in low reply.

"Now," I repeated, stroking his unbelievably stiff cock, trying
to work him into the same frenzy that he'd worked me into using his
fingers alone. His fingers, and the thoughts of the possibilities of
what pleasure lie ahead.

"Have patience," he said, moving to my throat, biting hard against
the tender skin over my jugular. Gasping, I could feel a desperate
reaction between my legs to his biting mouth, his probing fingers.

"No..." I said, more moaning than speaking, "no patience..."

He was moving me backward and pushed me to lay on the sofa, the
black leather feeling cold and smooth against my back, the strange
squeaking noise as we slid against it a sound that I only knew from
only pleasurable situations. My bra fell unhooked in an instant,
his head bent to catch each nipple between his lips, pausing only
slightly to flicker his tongue over one, then the other, then moving
southward. When I felt the hook of his fingers on the band of my
underwear, I raised my hips to accommodate him, and as I did, his
mouth fell squarely on my mound. I gasped sharply at the intense
pleasure of his sucking lips.

"Careful with those horns down there," I said hazily. His mouth
vibrated against me in a low chuckle. He was more skilled and
intense than any lover I'd ever known, and every nerve in my body
was screaming with sensation, with raw lust.

"That is so good," I breathed, throwing my head back. "Oh...just
like that,"

"I know," he said, continuing his amazing tongue movements.

"What do you mean?" I breathed, hardly coherent.

"I can feel the pleasure you experience. Through the Force I can
feel many things around me. Your pleasure is one of them."

"Must be nice." I sighed.

"It is."

I moaned weakly, and without warning he stopped and moved up my
body, his face against mine again, his hand reaching to bend my
leg against his side. I tried to catch his lips, but he was planting
sucking kisses on my cheeks and against my eyes.

"This, I predict, will be even nicer," he said, and slowly sheathed
himself inside me with deliberate ease...

So deep, so languid; he allowed my body a gradual moment to
become accustomed to him, and at first I could almost feel every
curve and contour, every pulse of that stiff shaft as he moved
within me. I lifted my hips to meet him on every stroke, gasping
with every hit of his pelvic bone against my raw and throbbing
nerve center, and then crying silently as his cock bumped me deep
inside. He seemed to be sort of observing me, watching with steady
eyes as I writhed beneath him, as my body reacted to the size of
him. He reached back with confident hands and grabbed my legs,
one at a time, and pushed them forward so that I was bent under
him and my ankles hooked on his shoulders. I missed the contact
of his flesh against mine, but the position I was in now made my
hips roll back and allowed him to touch me even deeper inside,
finding a hot spot of ecstasy that had me coming in less than a
minute. It was so fast and so intense that I almost couldn't
register what my body was doing as it twitched and spasmed around
his rhythmically plunging cock, and I screamed on every inhale and
every exhale.

He bent to kiss my mouth as my cries tapered off, but didn't slow
or change his pace, and the spots he was bumping against were so
sensitive that it almost hurt as he continued to find them. He bit
and lapped his tongue along my neck under my ear, and held one hand
against my face, outlining my lips with his thumb. Beginning to
again feel pleasure through the sensitive pain, I sucked his thumb
into my mouth, tasting the salty flavor of his flesh. He moved
his slick thumb from my lips and circled it around a nipple, the
coolness on the air bringing it to an erect and damp little nub.

Suddenly, on one particularly deep thrust, Darth Maul paused for
just a moment, and I heard a low rumble from his throat. Opening my
eyes from my newly-found hypnosis of excruciating pleasure, I looked
up to see his eyes shut tight, the rippling muscles of his shoulders
and chest rolling beneath his black flesh as he moved his
hands to pull my hips against him even tighter. I gasped again,
at the depth he'd achieved, and just from how he began to move I
knew his climax must be close.

His pace quickened, and through my half-open eyes I couldn't see
much more than the underside of his jaw as his head tilted back.
Then, in the final thrusts, he withdrew himself from me, and held
his cock in his hand. Rubbing the hugely engorged head between my
slippery folds, he spilled his seed all over me, sliding back and
forth along my swollen lips, the strange, slithering stickiness of
it sending me into another orgasm, and as my body pulsed, he slid
his cock back inside me easily, squishing the lock of our bodies
together in an incredibly erotic mess of fluids.

"So...mmm," I moaned, "so...good."

"Yesss..." he replied, his voice a mere hiss.

For the moment, I was spent; my nerves were on fire, my breath
coming in labored heaves, sweat covering myself and him despite
the cold air in my office. The Sith Lord that was still buried
inside me took a moment to regain himself as well, closing his
eyes and catching his breath. He withdrew himself from me again,
and gently lifted my ankles from his shoulders, then lay atop me
fully, the slippery film of our sweat causing our skin to slip
easily against each other. He kissed my mouth again, grinding
his hips into my thigh, and I lazily allowed him to feed on my
lips while I enjoyed the feel of his sticky shaft pushing against
me. I realized that he was still quite hard, and was surprised
when he wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me up against
him. He sat back into the corner of the couch, and positioned me
so that I faced him, straddling his hips. I was sated, but I
reached down mindlessly to stoke his cock.

"How are you doing that?" I asked drowsily, incredulous that he
was still stiff and apparently ready for another round of sex,
"I've never known a man who could do that. Stay hard, I mean"

"I am not an ordinary man," he replied, "not a human man, that is.
Have you ever had relations with someone outside of your species?"

"No," I admitted.

"Well then," he said, beginning to casually suck at the curve of
my shoulder and neck, "now you know what it can be like."

I didn't think my body could take anymore pleasure, but it was
beginning to respond to him again already, the feel of his stiff
shaft in my hand, the way it bumped so suggestively against my
belly, which I adored.

"Have you had relations with a lot of different species?" I asked,
becoming somewhat coherent again.

"Several," he answered, pulling my hair away from my shoulder and
tugging back so I gave him full access to my neck. "But I will tell
you one thing which you may want to include in your article."

"What's that?"

"I like human women the best."

"Why?"

"Because. They have a tendency to scream."