FakerTheBetter
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Bimbos from A Galaxy Far Far Away
🕑 Added 2023-06-25 14:45:00 +0000 UTCAuthors Note: This is a Fair-Use parody of existing material
The twin suns of Tatooine beat down on the dusty streets of Mos Eisley as Jedi Knight Rynne Erso made her way through the spaceport. Her ample chest strained against the confines of her loose-fitting Jedi robes, an incongruous sight that drew the gaze of many passersby. At 800cc, Rynne's breast implants were quite large for her petite frame, distorting the shape of her body in a way that was hard to ignore.
Rynne shifted uncomfortably, trying to adjust to her new center of balance. It had only been a week since her augmentation, and while the soreness was fading, the sheer weight and size of her new bustline still felt foreign. Her Master, an older Zabrak named Varad Tor, insisted that Rynne get the implants to help bolster her image on diplomatic missions. "People will take you more seriously if you appear more mature," he had said. And so Rynne had reluctantly agreed, expecting a modest increase to perhaps 400 or 500cc.
When she awoke after the surgery, she was stunned by what the doctor had given her. Her tiny A cup chest had been transformed into twin globes of saline-filled flesh, swollen and tight. They sat high on her chest, barely moving when she shifted. The skin across her breasts looked pink and strained, as if it could burst at any moment. Rynne had gasped, struggling to process this new reality - but the doctor simply smiled and said, "Your Master was most insistent that we give you as much volume as your body could handle. I believe we achieved an ideal result."
And now here she was, struggling to carry the weight of her massive new endowment through the dusty streets of Mos Eisley. She made her way into Chalmun's Cantina, pushing through the mix of smugglers, thieves and other galactic scum that frequented the bar. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for the contact she was meant to meet.
In a shadowed booth, a Rodian named Onacla waved Rynne over. "My, my, the rumors are true - the Order has undertaken some ... enhancements," he said, chuckling as his eyes dropped to Rynne's prominently displayed chest.
Rynne flushed, annoyance warring with embarrassment. "Let's get on with this. You said you had information on the slaving ring?"
Onacla nodded, though his gaze remained fixed on Rynne's implants. "My intel suggests the slavers are operating out of an abandoned construction module on the outskirts of Anchorhead. But this information will cost you, sweetheart." His eyes gleamed with amusement and something darker. "Perhaps a private show of those ... enormous talents the good doctor has given you?"
Rynne narrowed her eyes, indignation rising within her. Her hand drifted to the lightsaber at her hip as she leaned forward, giving Onacla an even closer view of her distorted figure.
"Your intel had better be good, or you'll be dealing with more than just the slavers," she said coldly. Planting her hands on the table, she rose to her feet - and in one swift motion, brought her saber up beneath Onacla's chin. The Rodian froze in terror, watching as the glowing blue blade hummed just inches from his throat.
"Because if you've wasted my time, I may just have to give you a very different kind of show," Rynne purred, allowing a dangerous smile to curl her lips. She held the pose a moment longer, ensuring her point was made, then extinguished her blade and turned on her heel. Her massive implants strained visibly beneath her robes as she strode from the bar, leaving Onacla trembling in her wake.
The contact may have been crude and infuriating, but Rynne felt a thrill of power from the way she handled him. Perhaps her Master was right - these obscenely huge implants, as alien as they felt, gave her a presence she had lacked before. She would use that presence to find the slavers and make them pay for the lives they had ruined. Her body might be distorted, but her connection to the Force remained strong.
As Rynne exited the bar, she allowed herself a small smile. Her implants bounced heavily with each step, foreign spheres of flesh she was still learning to appreciate. She may not have chosen them - but she would wield them as a weapon, and turn Tor's scheme to her advantage. The slavers had no idea who was coming for them now.
Comments
FakerTheBetter
This is the way!
Bob Mando
Wow! Outstanding! Pretty smiling faces, slim, fit, petite, and massive fake breasts is perfection. The Star Wars theme in itself is an excellent idea. I’d love to see more of that. I am sure, Rynne can use the force to inflate her boob/negotiation power even a little more if she needs it… :-) This is the way! ;-)
