It had taken Leia a week or more to become accustomed to his ways (to say nothing or getting used to the repeated molestations he'd subjected her to), but she'd soon learned to understand most of the Hutt's commands and phrases. "Da eitha" meant to come to him, and when it came to doing that…he preferred her to be up close and face-to-face. This strange embrace, which he only received from his slaves (and Leia had witnessed Jabba take several in this manner, both before and after her capture), was just what she did now.
Rising to her feet, Leia turned fully to the Hutt and stepped forward, feeling the bulk press against her boots and bare legs. Shuffling her feet apart, she shoved her lower body closely to him, then pressed her hands to his mighty belly's upper slope (both for balance and for the mental reassurance, fleeting as it always was, that she could push herself away at any time), feeling the warm, greasy, unclean flesh squish and spread against her tightened stomach muscles, all the way up to her barely-covered breasts. She kept her neck straight up, and even craned back slightly; he could easily "kiss" her at this proximity, but a little trick she'd learned was to move her head away as he licked her neck—the quicker he may remove his tongue from her face.
Jabba lifted the goblet and drank from it again, puffs of rank breath, cloudy with wine, welling over Leia, stinging her nostrils and making her let her own breath out and turn her own head away. There was a wet sound, and Leia closed her eyes, and indeed, Jabba began to kiss her, right on schedule, his long tongue warm and firm and so, so sticky. It pulled at the skin of her cheek and lip as it slithered and slopped side to side, up and down, the tip narrowing into a blunt point as it curled away from her face, little sticky wet strings of saliva stretching between tongue and skin as it was withdrawn back into his huge maw. Leia let out the rest of the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and turned back to face him, knowing what was next.
He usually had her strip at this point, starting with her top. He frequently spent long periods of time slurping at her breasts, his callous, lumpy tongue circling her nipples into full hardness and sliding up and down between her understated cleavage, making her whole body shiver with disgust and horrible, unclean, unwelcome, unwanted, yet ultimately, every single time, such very, very deeply rewarding stimulation, which was the perfect setup for what he did next, when like earlier he'd reach a big hand (or frequently, his huge tail) between her sweaty thighs and—
Jabba took another big gulp of the wine, then licked his lips.
Leia watched him move the goblet away, frowning slightly.
"You may speak," Jabba said, and several tiny droplets of slime splattered Leia's upper chest. "You obviously wish to."
"Are…"Leia asked, wanting, hoping, prayingthat he was going to give her a break for once. "Are you…thirsty? Master?" She added this last word quickly, hoping it helped reassure him of his power over her.
"I am!" Jabba said, and took one last swig of the wine. He twisted to the side, his thick rolls of flesh squashing grotesquely against—and around—Leia's breasts as he raised the goblet, then proceeded to hammer its reinforced base on his worn armrest.
Nearby (Leia glanced and saw), the guard perked up and shuffled over. Bib Fortuna, Jabba's Twi'Lek majordomo, stopped the guard and hissed something at him, his red eyes narrowing. The guard shrugged the Twi'Lek off, then continued, and Leia saw Bib glaring after him. Some kind of tension had come up between Jabba and Bib inthe past couple of days, and Bib had been working hard on being as cooperative eas possible with Jabba—but the Hutt hardly gave Bib any opportunities to show it.
Jabba asked the guard if the drink droid was ready, and the guard said he wasn't sure. Jabba told him to get him more wine, and then to check if the droid was worth keeping or not. The guard quickly bowed, took the goblet, then left.
Jabba turned back to Leia.
"Are you thirsty?" he asked mockingly
"I…"Leia had to admit she was feeling a bit peckish, though she was very reluctant to tell him so. Sharing meals with the Hutt was…rather messy; he usually wound up using her as a human trough…and then sexually taking her, covered in food, in the process. Still, she might not get another chance to eat for some time—who knew what would happen if Luke's "plan" worked out, and if not…if the worst happened…
"…I could use some food and drink," Leia murmured reluctantly.
Jabba's lips tightened, and his wide, dripping nostrils flared as he let out a grumbling breath. "Hmmh." His huge eyes moved from Leia and cast around the main lounge.
"Ooaahh,"Jabba cooed, then pointed past Leia. She turned, not quite sure who or what he was gesturing at in the crowded space.
"Let's see if they can be of assistance,"Jabba said, and working the controls to his throne (which also served as a harness for a series of powerful repulsorlift coils), he moved them both further into the room, bumping guests and servants and guards aside, and stopped at a small table, where three sets of eyes turned to see what the great Jabba the Hutt wanted.
Jabba released Leia as he nodded (frocking his massive upper body forward could be called a nod) at the table. Leia pulled away slowly, but stayed right by Jabba's side, feeling his chain hand lower and press against her backside. The cold metal links made her skin become bumpy, but she suppressed a shiver as she looked over the three guests.
The Rodian sitting in the middle of the table chattered something in a language Leia didn't understand, and was quickly elbowed by one of the two human fellows, the one on the right, to which he added another nasal word.
"I would like you to do something,"Jabba said. He pointed down. Leia glanced over the table. Amidst the scattered card game they had been playing were roughly-torn, stale-looking biscuit loaves and a few buttered roots and olives, as well as several half- or almost-completely-empty glasses. Leia's lips parted as she glanced this over—and suddenly understood, even before Jabba spoke.
"You'll let her feed on some morsels. As you know, Porcellus isn't cooking anymore—"
The Rodian nodded, and the human one grinned. The human on the left grunted something, but Leia didn't catch it. Whatever it was, Jabba found it hilarious, and his short, chubby arms lifted as he rocked back and forth, the clinks of Leia's chain hiding most of the sounds of his fatty rolls as they squished and farted grossly. "Indeed," Jabba agreed. "Not yet."
The other two snickered.
"So you will feed her, but you all know well enough to keep your hands off of her," Jabba said. "Make sure she—"
He suddenly broke off.
Leia, frowning, turned to him, then saw he was staring at some other point, elsewhere in the lounge. She followed his gaze.
Bib was standing nearby, staring expressionlessly at his superior.
Jabba licked his lips.
"Make sure she gets her fill."
There was a sudden, fleshy clap, and Leia staggered forward, only then yelping as she felt the full impact of Jabba's hand upon her barely-covered backside.
The three guests chuckled, and Leia glared at them.
"Well, you heard him," the human on the right said. "Join us."
Leia was suddenly very reluctant to leave the throne, but she reminded herself of Luke's words. Just stay alive.
Taking a deep breath, Leia moved away from Jabba. He loosened his grip on the chain, then simply dropped it so it noisily clattered onto the top of his throne. Glancing curiously back at him, she saw his gaze shift from her face to her body and back before turning fully to Bib, who had then come closer to the throne.
Leia half-climbed, half-jumped off the throne, landing just beside Bib. The two exchanged uneasy glances before they went their opposite ways.
Leia slowly moved near the table, saw an overturned chair.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Princess," the human on the right said. "Let me get that for you, Princess." The Rodian laughed as the human, despite his mocking tone, reached over and dragged the chair into an upright position and pushed it towards Leia.
"Th…thanks," Leia said, trying a diplomatic approach. "I appreciate it."
The man on the left muttered something. The Rodian commented. The right man said back, "They say you'd better. Jabba doesn't give breaks to just anyone."
"Well then I'm touched," Leia said, then told herself to calm down. This was no time to get petty. She pulled her two skirts—designed to only cover the centermost of the front and rear of her lower body—as straight as they could go, then slowly seated herself.
"I'm Anther," the man on the right said, hooking a thumb at his chest. He did the same to the other two. "This is Nidhog and Forch."
Leia glanced from one set of eyes to another, keeping the movement quick. She nodded to all of them.
Forch, the other human, nodded at the table and said something. "He said eat," Anther said.
"Friends of Jabba's?" Leia asked, reaching for one of the loaves of bread. She tore off a piece and popped it. It was salty and even staler than it looked, but it was something.
"You know business," Anther said. Nidhog chattered something. "'Runners, is what we are,'" Anther translated
"Business as usual," Leia said, not sure of what else to say, and even less so about even talking to these so-called runners. She was sitting with them for one purpose: eating. So she tucked in and kept at it.
Forch said something. "'Are you cold in that thing?'" Anther asked.
Leia chewed and swallowed another mouthful of bread. "Sometimes."
Forch leaned in and didn't even try to hide his wandering eyes as he spoke, his voice softer than his looks would imply, a rather pleasant croon to it really. Then: "'So do you feel comfortable in that? Or is it painful on your skin?'"
Leia turned from Anther when the translation was done and said to Forch, "It can leave marks. Metal bands, you know."
Forch grinned and whispered something. Nidhog commented, then all three laughed. Anther didn't translate this, and Leia didn't care.
Leia helped herself to some of the olives. Very salty, and they even stung her palate a little, but they had been pitted, and were very satisfying after she had a couple.
"'Do you have to take it off for him every time?'" Forch asked through Anther, and Anther's hand pointed left-right-left, then down. Leia instinctively pressed her hand over her exposed mid-chest. "I…don't know if I'm comfortable talking about this."
"Fair enough," Anther said. "Jabba wants you to eat, not talk, anyway!"
And so Leia ate. As she did, Nidhog spoke at length. He paused every few sentences to let Anther catch up with him for Leia's Basic translation. "'The girl before you—'" and Leia knew to whom he was referring, a beautiful, lime-colored Twi'Lek named Oola; Force knew she'd heard enough comparisons when she had been first taken into the Dancer Pit to be dressed after Jabba's initial…time with her, "—she was hard for Jabba to keep. Struggled a lot, made him mad, even insulted him once or twice.' Fun to watch after hours though." This last part appeared to be Anther's own comment, for he gained a toothy grin as he spoke it. "'You're a real change of pace for Jabba. He likes how you've come along, and I have to admit,'" and here Anther pointed at Nidhog, who in turn pointed at himself as he continued, "'It's been a lot more interesting with you on the throne, because there's actually something going on.'"
Leia finished the last of what had become her loaf of bread, leaving the other loaf alone.
"What do you mean?" she asked, suddenly curious.
"For once, I might add," Anther said.
There was a metallic jangle, and Leia turned back to see the chain was a taut, zigzagging line leading straight from her lower center of vision, up through the air…and straight back to Jabba. He gestured from his vantage point, but said nothing.
There were a few snickers from around the table, and Leia glanced back at her temporary company. Then her chain tightened, and Leia turned back to Jabba and climbed back up his throne.