And after the communications disruption of the two or three previous scenes, a return to uncensored story...
"So," Moff Tagge said with a smile.
He was standing in the outer room of the apartment at the top of the Imperial Tower, which Jaina shared with Tahiri - a man in an Imperial General's uniform, with his back turned to her, looking at the wall art - a holographic recording of Jaina being dommed by Jag and his friends, put into slow-motion to extend the runtime to twelve hours long.
She kept meaning to turn the thing off, at least when people showed up. But at least she wasn't humiliated, or embarrased, any more.
The Jaina on the screen, chained against a bondage frame with her arms above her head and naked legs apart, began to climax under the flogging she was being subjected to.
Tagge took a sip of his drink. Somehow, she felt he was looking at the film as art, rather than pornography. But there was an appreciative shift in his expression when he caught sight of her reflection behind him, dressed in nothing more than her silver bondage choker and a black silk bedroom tunic, cut as high as possible to show off the full length of her legs.
Jaina lifted an eyebrow. "Something tells me you're not just here to steal Jag's whisky?"
Tagge turned. "I get to do all the responsible parts of being a sort of boyfriend, while you have the actual sex with Sacker and Tahiri?"
Jaina gave a weak, half-guilty look. "Do you mind?"
"I've known worse relationships. I mostly called round to check if you're okay?"
"I needed to repair my lightsaber," she shrugged. She still hadn't replaced the crystal. "You're the tech guy."
"Not quite what I meant. Empress. Sex-slave."
"I used to be a Jedi Knight," she said. Used to be. That was a surprising admission, one she hadn't known she was ready for, one she still didn't understand the full meaning of. "I understand the virtues of passivity. Of listening, serving."
"And the strengths of holding to your principles," he nodded. "I appreciate that, Your Highness."
"I like you," she said suddenly. She turned away, and walked across to the tray of bottles at the back of the room. She was drinking less, but she still knew how to get drunk.
Tagge watched her, his expression a silent question.
"Explain to me about art," she said, sloshing a hasty drink in a glass left over from before. "Then maybe we'll have sex?"
"Jaina," he said, shaking his head. "Relationships aren't just about sex, you know?"
"Who said anything about relationships?" she challenged, strutting back, and glad she was in heels. "The way you react to the holovid is interesting, Moff. I just don't know if it turns me on or not." A slug of liquor, hot in her mouth. "Yet."