Yes

Leia sank to her knees between his reverse-jointed legs without thinking. The carpet bit into her skin, coarse and dirty. She cupped her breasts, still flushed and aching from his earlier pinching, and pressed them together around the base of his cock. The heat of him seared her sternum; the ridges caught on the soft skin of her inner breasts, dragging with every breath. She started moving, up, down, agonizingly slow, letting the flared head bump her chin on each upstroke, smearing slime across her collarbone, her throat, the tops of her tits until they shone wet under the flickering porno light.

Xithispk took another drag, held it, then bent forward and exhaled straight into Leia’s face. She inhaled greedily, coughing, eyes watering, never breaking rhythm. Her tits slid slick and filthy along his length, nipples scraping over ridges, the burn and stretch and shame all braided together. His upper claws settled on her shoulders, not guiding, just resting, heavy and possessive.

“Faster when I say,” he buzzed, voice thick with spice and victory. “But not yet. Wanna watch you work for it, princess. Wanna see how long it takes before you beg me to paint that pretty little face.”

"Not my face, you're supposed to be getting me pregnant." Leia said, looking up at him. Her breasts glided up and down in long, deliberate strokes, the soft inner skin already raw from the ridges that scraped like serrated armour. Each time she pushed forward the flared head punched between her tits and kissed her chin, leaving a hot, slimy stripe that cooled instantly in the recycled air. The smell was everywhere now. Deathstick resin, green mucus, the sour pond-rot of his presumably uncleaned cock-sheath, and beneath it all the unmistakable musk of her own cunt, dripping down her thighs in slow rivulets. She hated how easily her body kept the rhythm, how her back arched without permission so her nipples dragged over those wiry black bristles sprouting from his carapace. Every tiny rasp sent sparks straight to her clit, sparks she didn’t want, didn’t deserve.

You are Senator Leia Organa-Solo, hero of Yavin, wife of a loving husband, and you are on your knees milking a ****’s dick with your tits like it’s the most natural thing in the galaxy.

The thoughts should have stopped her cold. Instead they only made her stroke slower, more deliberately, as if savouring the betrayal. She felt the exact moment her own heartbeat synced with the wet slap of flesh on chitin, felt the throb in his shaft echo in her swollen clit. A low, involuntary moan slipped out of her throat, muffled against the slime-slick crown when it bumped her lips again. She tasted algae and salt and something darker, something that made her tongue dart out for another sample before shame could stop it.

Green pre-cum frothed at the tip with every upward glide, dripping in thick strands across her chest until she glistened like she’d been oiled for auction. And her lover, the filthy criminal insectoid alien, lounged back like a king on his throne of stained sheets, deathstick glowing between his mandibles, four arms draped lazily while the woman destined to carry his spawn serviced him with slow, worshipful strokes.

Every ridge that caught on the tender skin under her breasts felt like a brand: property of Xithispk Shi'tstane, optimal donor, father of the child the New Republic had ordered her to conceive. The thought should have made her retch. Instead her pussy clenched hard enough that another bead of wetness rolled down her thigh and splattered audibly on the carpet.

She hated him.

She hated herself more for the way her hips rolled in tiny, helpless circles, **** for something to rub against.

She kept going, just like he told her to, soft silky tits gliding, gliding, gliding around the brutal alien rapestick that was going to ruin her life one thick pulse at a time.

Xithispk’s laugh buzzed low and wet, the sound crawling over her skin like his own slime. “Look at you, senator. Tits shiny with my precum, face smeared like a five-credit whore in the underlevels.”

One of his upper claws cracked suddenly across her cheek. Not hard enough to bruise deep, just sharp enough to sting and make her eyes water. The slap echoed in the small room, louder than the porno moans still leaking from the viewscreen. Leia blinked, shocked.

“Say thank you.”

Leia’s lips parted, breath hitching. The word scraped out before her pride could stop it.

“Thank you.”

Another slap, backhand this time, claws grazing her jaw and leaving four thin red lines.

“Louder, princess. Thank your breeder.”

“Thank you,” she rasped, voice cracking, the taste of copper blooming where her teeth had caught the inside of her cheek.

He leaned forward, mandibles clicking, deathstick dangling from one corner of his mouth.

“Pathetic. The great Leia Organa, reduced to a titfucking cumrag for a bug she once put in chains. I bet Solo’s crying into his whiskey right now, knowing his wife’s polishing a better man's meat.”

The words hit like fists, each one landing in the softest parts of her gut. She should have snarled, should have spat, should have done anything except what she did next.

She sank lower.

Her knees spread wider on the filthy carpet, breasts sliding off his cock with a wet shlorp. The ridged shaft slapped heavy against his plated belly, leaving a glistening web of precum across her sternum. She nuzzled down, nose brushing the coarse, wiry hairs at the root, inhaling the sour musk of his balls. They hung low and swollen, each one the size of her fist, not plated like the rest of him but softer, hotter, pulsing with the same thick heartbeat she’d felt between her tits.

The first touch of her tongue was tentative, just a flick across the seam, tasting salt and algae rot. Xithispk exhaled a pleased rattle, smoke curling around her head like a crown.

“That’s it. Get in there, hero. Clean your master’s sack.”

She opened wider, lips sealing around one heavy orb, sucking gently while her tongue traced every ridge and crease. The skin was surprisingly velvet under the plating, fever-hot, and the wiry hairs rasped her cheeks as she worked. The other ball pressed against her nose, smearing her face with more slime. She switched, mouthing the second, then both at once, stretching her jaw until it ached, drool and pre mixing in shiny strands that dripped from her chin to the carpet.

Every time she pulled back for air, Xithispk rewarded her with another lazy slap; cheek, tit, the side of her head, until her skin buzzed red and her ears rang. Each impact made her moan into his balls, the vibration drawing a deeper buzz from his thorax.

“Disgusting little traitor,” he crooned, grinding the heavy sack against her face, smearing her with his scent. “Your future kid is swimming around in there, give em a nice welcome. Work up a nice big load for me. Gonna keep you down there all weekend. Make you sleep with my nuts on your tongue so you never forget who owns that royal cunt now.”

Leia’s answer was to suck harder, cheeks hollowing, one hand cupping the base of his cock to keep it from slapping her forehead while she lavished worship on the source of the seed that was going to ruin her life. The porno on the screen flicked to a new scene; she didn’t look up. She was too busy drowning in the taste of her own surrender.