Chapter Text
14-year-old Jedi Ezra Bridger was sprawled out on his bunk bed, wide awake in the middle of the night. Below him was Zeb, fast asleep, snoring louder than a starship’s engines, but Ezra wasn’t awake because of the noise. Rather, he was awake because of what he had been told a few hours before. Earlier in the day, Ezra and his master Kanan had visited the secret Jedi temple on Lothal. There, he went through a nightmarish trial where he saw the Inquisitor kill all of his friends right in front of him, only defeating the bald terror when he realized he did not fear death, thus causing the illusion to be dispelled, allowing him to leave. Before he left, however, he heard a wise old voice in the back of his mind speak to him. (speaking backwards) The voice told Ezra that he was destined to rebuild the Jedi order, a tall order for such a young boy.
The voice didn’t tell Ezra how he was to rebuild the order, just that he would. It was such a big task with no clear solution, but still chose not to tell Kanan. He got the sense that this was a challenge he had to tackle himself. Now, in the present, Ezra suddenly sat up; he had an idea. It was one of those ideas only a teenage boy could think of. Since he had force sensitivity, it would only make sense that his children would be force sensitive as well.
Ezra already knew that he was quite hung for an adult, especially for a fourteen-year-old, from the various street whores that populated the late-night Lothal streets. There were plenty Twi’lek prostitutes that would debase themselves on teen cock for free. Come to think of it, Hera, the Twi’lek captain of the team, looked similar to those prostitutes. Despite the fact that she covered herself up with a thick set of overalls and flight gear, it was clear that behind it all was a body just as thick as her whorish kin. Ezra always knew she was coming as he could hear her fat ass clapping through the walls.
Hera wasn’t the only one with an audible ass and tits that made it so it took an hour to suit up for a mission. The 16-year-old Mandalorian Sabine was the same. She had to get her chestplate custom-made just to fit around her immense bust. The two bimbos, despite their attempts to hide the fact that they were bimbos, would always cause Ezra’s throbbing cock to lurch to life, causing him to have his cock be near bursting out of his pants whenever either entered or left the room. It wasn’t just his two crewmates; it seemed every woman he met was as thicc as they were. Whether it be random alien broads that would saunter around space ports showing off their giant cleavage, or it be imperials that kept their bodies hidden in constricting uniforms that still gave away everything.
So Ezra came to his idea. He had a giant cock, was surrounded by jiggly bimbos, and had a mission to repopulate the Jedi order. The answer was simple: he would start a harem, knocking up as many women as possible with his thick teen cum. This way, they would birth the next generation of Jedi.