Dark Side

Master Jabba just said:

• I haven't forgotten that I have to break and punish you. You will open your thighs and demand that the guard punish you on your genitals for your disobedience.

To her horror, Leia saw herself lie down, raise her hips and open her thighs, with her most lewd and pleading expression. Each movement was **** for her soul, but her body, under the influence of the collar, obeyed without resistance. Jabba, entranced by this spectacle, leaned back on his platform, his eyes shining with pleasure. The handmaidens watched, some with envy, others with compassion, but all remained silent. C-3PO, motionless, seemed unable to tear his gaze from the scene, his expression betraying deep distress.

She heard his words leave his mouth:

• Guard, punish me, I've been a naughty ****, hurt me as much as possible.

The guard smiled and stepped forward, happy to grant his **** desire.

The guard, a sadistic grin spread across his pig-like face, slowly approached Leia, his whip cracking softly against the floor. Each step echoed in the heavy silence of the room, while Leia, still under the influence of the collar, looked at him with a mixture of disgust and terror. Jabba, his eyes shining with excitement, leaned forward, anticipating the spectacle that was to follow.

The whip came down hard, precisely on her sex; it was as if it were tearing at her innermost being, so much did the energy stimulate the nerves so present there.

The whip came down hard, precisely on her sex; it was as if it were tearing at her innermost being, so much did the energy stimulate the nerves so present there. Leia screamed in pain, but her cry was muffled by the collar, which **** her to smile lasciviously, as if she knew what she was going through was inevitable. The guard sneered at the pain in her eyes, his sadistic pleasure magnified by her helplessness. Jabba leaned back, his hands clasped in satisfaction, his hearty laughter echoing through the room. The handmaidens looked down, some trembling in fear, others murmuring silent prayers for this to be over.

Leia's voice rose again:

• Harder, I like ten lashes.

The guard, his eyes shining with morbid excitement, raised his whip with a sadistic grin. Each lash fell with redoubled ****, making cries of pain erupt from Leia's throat, though the collar **** her to smile as if she were enjoying every moment of the ****. Jabba, delighted by this spectacle, began to laugh loudly, his hands clasped in satisfaction. The terrified handmaidens looked down, praying for it to end quickly. C-3PO, a helpless witness to this scene, seemed paralyzed by horror, unable to look away.

At the last blow, Leia collapsed. She was trapped in her own mind, yet she felt as if someone else was occupying her body. She felt her perversity, the pleasure she took in being enslaved, subjugated, she felt her innermost being wet.

Leia, exhausted and broken, lay on the cold floor of Jabba's chamber. Her body, bruised by the blows, still trembled under the grip of the collar. Jabba, satisfied with the spectacle, rose from his dais, his coarse laughter echoing through the room. He approached her, his lustful gaze examining her from head to toe. "You are an obedient **** now," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. Leia, trapped in her own mind, felt every word like a blade piercing her. The guard, still present, looked at her with a mixture of disgust and desire, his whip still clutched in his hand.

The handmaidens turned to tend to her as the collar's inventor leaned forward and said, "My little gadget is interesting, isn't it? Know that it only amplifies your dark side, thanks to a Sith artifact, your personality that you try to hide behind your strong woman persona. In two weeks, your dark personality will be definitive; you will have forgotten who you were."

Leia, still trembling, felt her mind shattering into a thousand pieces. The collar, still active, kept her in a state of **** submission, but inside her, a fierce battle was raging. Every word that left her mouth, every movement of her body, was a betrayal of her soul. She tried to cling to her identity, to the strength that had always defined her, but under the influence of this device, it was a losing battle. Jabba's gaze on her made her shudder, but she couldn't look away. The Hutt moved closer, his fetid breath fanning her face, and whispered,

• You're perfect, ****, or at least you will be soon.