The next day, it hurt for Leia to dance for Jabba.

It had been a long evening before, and not for what had repulsively become "the usual reasons." Jabba had conducted a business meeting late into the night, hollering and gesturing with violent swipes of his chunky arms, frequently choking Leia with hard consequential tugs on her chain. Once it was over—Leia figured Jabba was getting the short end of the stick, from the sounds of it—Jabba went at Leia, and hard, making her cry out in serious pain at one point, and working within her spent woman hood for long, powerfully sensitive minutes after she came.

Now, Leia's bones were feeling rather creaky as she twisted and gyrated her hips and bumped her backside about; she would be grateful for when it ended…but only if she were given a chance to rest afterward.

Such a break was not to be, however; when the song stopped and Leia bowed with the other dancers, Jabba tugged swiftly on her chain. "Da eitha, shag," he bellowed, pointing at his belly.

Seriously? Leia thought, disbelieving.

Jabba lifted the chain, lowered it…then pulled back hard so it snapped in the air, the collar tugging against the back of Leia's neck, making her rock on her feet.

Leia conceded. She knew she was going to regret this, but at least the labor would be done and over with, and maybe Jabba would let her rest after this.

Her pulse still a heavy pounding in her ears, Leia hiked her skirt belt up slightly before realizing that that probably wouldn't matter in a moment anyway. Abandoning the modest gesture, she walked across the floor to the throne.

She had a moment to reflect upon just how high its upper surface was from the floor, and she had to really lift her foot high up, showing off her whole leg in the process, in order to find leverage. The jingle of her chain hid the sound of her grunt as she hoisted herself up; she found her footing and rose, straightening before Jabba. He licked his lips, but still she forced herself forward.

She stopped when her boots almost kicked the meeting-place of his belly and the surface of the throne. She could feel his warmth upon her bare belly and thighs. She wasn't precisely sure what he intended to do—and so if he wasn't planning on having her in his embrace, she was not about to volunteer.

That was when she heard it. It was practically a roaring sound for how swiftly it had come about.

Silence.

The music, the singing, the conversations, the grunts, the gibbers, the croaks—all had stopped.

She glanced around, wondering—hoping—for a moment that she may have gone suddenly deaf, but she felt her heart shrivel up and drop somewhere inside her chest. The audience filling the entire chamber was staring at her, anticipation bright on the face of each guest, practically twinkling in every set of eyes. Leia had to turn away, blushing.

What was happening? What was Jabba going to do? The crowd obviously seemed to know something that Leia didn't; they were watching her like she was about to deliver the final verdict in a courtroom. Jabba was once again making no clear move upon her; Leia wondered if perhaps he too was waiting for her to do something. But what?

Leia shifted her balance on her feet…and then her skin began to bristle up with the slow chill of realization that crept through her.

She was thinking about it all wrong. Jabba was waiting for her to do something…something she had already started, just by coming over to him.

He-and the audience, in turn-was waiting for her to press up against him.

It didn't matter why, either; just the fact that he was waiting for her to do it carried so much weight in its implications that it was fairly disturbing.

Leia bit her lower lip, suddenly and curiously very self-conscious. What was the big deal? After all she'd been through—after all she'd done, and how many times, and in front of so many people, this should hardly be taken as anything new or exotic.

On the other hand (and Leia sulked inwardly at this), she had initiated this. She had chosen to come all the way over to the throne, to climb atop it, and to walk right up to Jabba…and all because he had told her to. There was no taking that back, not now that she was standing right in front of him; what was a voluntary slave's embrace but the final step in this particular path already taken? So really, entering Jabba's embrace now would hardly make things worse at this point.

Besides, wasn't the whole point ofher plan, if and when she was captured, to make Jabba think he'd gained the upper hand? What was a better way for that to work than to act like she was losing her will power to him? It would work. It had to. And at the very least…it would invite another repulsive act of debauchery, and at least then it would be done and over with, if history was any indication.

Holding her breath, Leia lifted her right foot and moved it forward, the tip of her boot stopping just under the bottom curve of the mass of flesh before her. Her weight shifted upon her right leg as she pushed herself forward…and her body slowly came into contact with his. Centuries of gravity had pulled the Hutt's bulk down and out, and so the widest part of his body was his belly—which in turn was the first part of him that Leia touched. Her lower abdomen met the filthy, amphibious flesh; it was moist, clammy, and warm against her, and so damn soft; it dimpled instantly where her body touched it, like the meniscus of liquid being affected by an intruding fingertip.

Leia had to make herself stop right there, feeling like it was her first time being shoved up against him by Melina, or when Jabba had forced her onto her feet the morning after her capture, all over again; only this time…this was all her own doing. She was pressing herself against Jabba, with no forceful push or pull guiding her; it was like willingly stepping into something foul…no matter how she planned it or how she perceived it, it felt—no, it was—a damnably repulsive action to take. Yet her audience was still silently watching, still eager to see what unfolded…and Leia didn't wish to find out what would happen if she were to stop and pull away now.

Just a little closer, her detached inner voice thought. Just a little more…

Leia turned her head away, eyes cast down, as she took a tiny breath and let it shudderingly out through parted lips…and guided herself closer. Jabba's belly met more of her own, the fat spreading up and out over her flesh, the hidden muscles beneath his bulk starting to press down upon the upper curve of her gold skirt buckle, shoving it against her lower pelvis. Her chain jingled as its slack folded upon itself, the cold links tickling her flesh. She forced herself a little closer, and now felt the fat pressing against her bare thighs, forcing her frontal skirt between them.

"Ungh…" Leia kept the voice out of her groan, so it was little more than an exhalation.

The silence around them was finally broken as a few guests chortled and raised their voices in anticipation, but some damn fool made a hushing sound, and the horrible silence returned.

Leia didn't move any closer, however. This was enough. If Jabba was going to do something to her, he had all the opportunity to do it, now. Leia felt pain in her hands, and realized she'd clenched them into tight fists by her sides as she waited. She chanced a look up at Jabba.

The Hutt, clearly satisfied, narrowed his huge eyes and licked his lips. The wobble of his fleshy rolls was repulsive not only to see, but to feel; the slight vibration of the flesh quaked against Leia's whole lower abdomen.

How long Leia remained pressed against Jabba's front like this, without anything else happening, was impossible to tell; it may have been perhaps several long seconds, but it easily could have been a minute or three. It was an eternity of humiliation, either way, and its momentum was broken only when Jabba started laughing.

Though Jabba had laughed with Leia upon his front several times before—twice now, he'd made her feel deeply embarrassed and humiliated in so doing while forcing Leia to succumb to ecstasy as he fingered and tailed her it had never felt quite so disgusting as it did now. The gross sounds of his moist rolls of flesh jiggling and slapping above one another, the vibrations of expelled guttural air and booming vocal chords carrying through the gelatinous blubber pressed over every square inch of the front of Leia's belly and pelvis and thighs, the wet squelches of toothless gums and working tongue, only a foot or so before her face, welling his rank, humid breath out over her, choking her on foul digestive gases...it was too much to bear, and Leia's repulsion was too great to suppress—she turned her head away and let out a long, loud groan: "Auuugh…!"

Jabba laughed harder, his fatty rolls rubbing against Leia's skin as his foul breath puffed out with each guttural hoot. "HO-Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho, HAH-Hah-hah-hah-hah-hyeaaiiiighghghh…"

He reached up suddenly and wrapped his arm around Leia's side, pressed his hand to her back and pulled her upper body closer. His laugh devolved into a horrible, slobbering gurgle as Leia's breasts shoved up against his slime-dribbled chins. He licked his lips, but he did not withdraw his tongue when the task was finished. Leia wailed her disgust even before it began.

Jabba began to lick her face. His huge tongue covered her face in thick, stickywet saliva as his other hand lifted and slipped over the front of her right breast, cupping it through the thin cloth stretched beneath the gold frames, his fat thumb pressing and sliding around directly over her nipple, forcing it to harden under the fabric, sending a shivering surge of unwanted physical pleasure through Leia's body.

"Nnnhh…" The single syllable of protest died on her quivering lips as she pressed them together, just before his tongue slid over them, smearing his foul saliva all over her in a beastly kiss.

Jabba's hand slid down her back, lazily traveling over her rear skirt plate, which curved sharply out over the upper slope of her backside. He grasped her buttocks right through the thin cloth hanging beneath the plate, making Leia gasp, her breasts swelling up against his flabs and hand as she squirmed from the grope.

Jabba started licking at her neck now, a slow, wet caress that sent shivers through her body. With as many times as he had done this to her in the days before, it was a wonder she wasn't more used to this already…but something was worse about this: more deliberate, more intimate…more lecherous. Leia craned her head away, still groaning loudly…but damnably not just from disgust anymore.

His hand lifted back up and pressed below her shoulders, shoving her bosom closer into his doughy, slime-slathered chins. His huge tongue slopped down over her neck, befouling collar and flesh alike. His groping-hand continued to stimulate her nipple through her top…then he turned it and pressed its clammy palm onto the side of her upper chest.

Just get it over with, her thoughts came. Just let him finish it and you can relax again.

Jabba's hand slid down slowly, the sweat- and grease-slicked palm traveling over her belly, making Leia tremble against him. He began to shove it between their joined lower bodies, fingertips poking into her navel as they passed and went down, down…

The fat fingers probed and pushed, and Leia gasped as they found their place. They began to move up and down, sending ripples of sensation through Leia's body, soon turning into waves of forbidden lust…and finally mounting pleasure. At some point, Jabba had Leia remove her top, and he proceeded to slurp up her heaving breasts. She moaned loudly and came hard on those thick, phallic digits...but he was not done.

In fact, he had only just begun.

Jabba pulled his fingers out and ordered her to remove her skirt. Leia, weak and trembling and still so very, very horny, had only the most fleeting reluctance to obey. Once it was off, Jabba grabbed her bare backside and shoved her pelvis closely to his gut, then grabbing her thigh, he pulled upward, spreading her legs, then slammed the end of his tail up into her hot, wet pussy.

"AAGH!" Leia cried. Her moans evened out as the tail angled more directly beneath her, the thick, ridged appendage wrapping around the back of her knee and calf as it worked its muscles, the fat tip probing and pushing deep into her wet lust. "Ohhhh," she moaned now. Pushing herself up, she lifted her already-crooked leg a little higher, seeking a better angle with which to weigh herself down onto that huge member. She found that angle, and straddling a big hunk of Jabba's belly-fat between her thighs, pressing her hands to its upper slope for balance, she straightened…and began to hump.

Jabba's blubbery belly dimpled and expanded under Leia as she rode that tail, working hard, feeling a good seven inches of it push into her before the increasing width of the heavily-muscled member bottomed out. Her body hungered for it, however, and she worked hard to fulfill that craving. Her slimy breasts rubbed on Jabba's squishing rolls, and she moaned loudly. After a minute, she came again, and she began to slow down.

Jabba yanked her chain. "Ab godda ta neecho boke ooh neetah!"

Leia knew he wanted her to do it again, and with her lust hovering just above her heart, she obeyed. In seconds she came again, crying loudly, whimpering at how weak she felt.

"Ooh neetah!" He gave another hard tug on her chain.

"I…can't…" Leia whimpered between wheezing breaths. She stared at the floor. She couldn't look at him, not after all that.

Another yank. "Ooh neetah, shag!"

"Please…"

YANK.

"Oh please, I can't, I can't, I'm done Master!" Didn't he get it? There was only so much she could do. She was exhausted, drained, physically and mentally. She wasn't sure she could even stand, much less hump him some more.

She waited, but he didn't respond. Didn't even yank her chain.

She knew she was done, and she knew the shame of her performance would get the better of her now. Her eyes traveled up his slime-dribbled front, and she saw his tongue as it slurped over his lips, the tip disappearing into his dribbling maw, and finally her eyes met his.

He was staring at her.

"Nu pratta dunko?"

A few hushed voices sounded around them. Leia wasn't sure she understood; she said nothing.

"Nu pratta dunko, shag?" Jabba repeated, a harder edge in his voice now.

Leia shook her head, tension forming through her whole frame. It was hard enough understanding Huttese when she had the time and luxury to focus; but now, with her mind so scattered, and being asked—no, demanded—like this…she had no clue as to what the Hutt was saying. Whatever it was, she had a bad feeling about it.

Jabba glared at Leia for another long moment. His huge head rocked back as a belch sent ripples through his body, but his nostrils merely flared as a result; then he did it again, and Leia realized he was starting to chuckle. Soon it became another round of deep, hearty, belly-wobbling—and cruel, very cruel—laughter. "HO-Ho-ho-ho-hoooo…"

A peal of reflected humor sounded throughout the chamber, and Leia turned to see every taunting face laughing, laughing at her and whatever the hell it was she'd done.

Jabba, still laughing, removed his tail from Leia. She groaned loudly as the wet sucking sound filled the air that now kissed her wet, sore pussy, and she bucked on his front, naked, slimy, and weak. The slippery tip of his tail brushed her legs as it dropped to her feet, then slid away.

Jabba's hand from Leia's back, and a moment later, his other hand disappeared from her belly. Leia, growing very fearful, glanced around at his moving arms as he placed them back on the sides and upper slopes of his mighty belly.

A minute went by, then two…and still Jabba made no move upon Leia. As an experiment, she very, very slowly pulled away (trying to ignore the nauseating feeling of Jabba's greasy belly-fat as it peeled stickily off of her stomach). Jabba made no move to pull her back. He'd stopped laughing, but amusement still glittered in his huge eyes.

The audience began to disperse around them, and soon the palace was quiet again.

Alertly watching the Hutt to make sure he made no other moves, Leia took a step back, then slowly lowered herself to the throne on weak legs. She gathered her shed, slimy articles of clothing (for all they were worth), put them back on, and wiped the drying slime off as she collapsed atop the cushioned thronetop. Jabba didn't stop her.

She turned herself away from Jabba, got as comfortable as was possible, given the circumstances, and let out her breath in a long, heavy sigh. The crowd around had already largely dispersed, with only a motley crew of a guard, a dancer, and a couple of henchmen still lingering.