Leia strips for him

Leia's fingers trembled at the clasp of her robe, the fabric suddenly heavy, clinging to her skin like a second layer of doubt. She stood there in the dim room, the air thick and sticky with Xithispk's reek, that sour rot seeping into her pores, making her nose wrinkle even as she **** a sway into her hips. How had it come to this? The hero of the Rebellion, the woman who'd stared down Vader without flinching, now reduced to peeling off clothes for a slimy thug who'd once preyed on the weak. Her mind screamed to bolt, to smash the door panel and run back to Han's arms, where things made sense, where touch meant safety and not this churning pit in her gut. But the law's weight pressed down, invisible chains tighter than any Imperial cuffs, and beneath that, a treacherous whisper: what if she just got it over with? What if pretending to play along bought her time to think?

Xithispk lumbered to the bed's edge with a wet squelch of his carapace against the sheets, his massive frame sinking the mattress until it groaned. Those compound eyes fixed on her, pulsing red, as one of his wiry arms dipped low. Leia gulped as she caught sight of him for the first time, as he pulled back his loincloth. His sheath peeled back with a slick pop, revealing his ridged monstrosity, an alien cock as thick as leia's wrist already swelling, the purple head oozing clear slime that dripped in slow strings to the floor. He wrapped a claw around it, stroking slow and deliberate along it's length, the ridges rasping against his own plated palm with a sound like wet sandpaper. It was gnarled, covered in bumps all along the length. "That's it, Leia. Dance for me. Shake those tits like the whore under all that senator bullshit." His buzz vibrated through the room, low and mocking, his tongue flicking out to lap at a bead of his own mucus.

She swallowed hard, tasting the bitter edge of her caf from earlier mixed with rising bile, and let her robe slip from one shoulder. The cool air hit her bare skin, raising goosebumps. Han's face flashed again, his grin when he'd pull her close after a long day, but she shoved it down, focusing on the sway, hips rolling in a **** rhythm that felt awkward at first, her feet shifting on the carpet that smelled faintly of old cleaner. Why did her body respond like this? Heat bloomed low in her belly, uninvited, as Xithispk's wet strokes picked up pace, his heavy balls swaying with each tug, the acrid musk sharpening until it coated her tongue with every breath. She hated it, hated him, but the denial cracked just a fraction. She realised with horror what she was enjoying teasing him, building the anticipation. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or the sheer wrongness twisting into something darkly thrilling, a betrayal of everything she'd fought for.

The robe pooled at her feet with a soft thud, leaving her in the simple tunic and trousers she'd worn underneath, the fabric damp now from the room's humid air. She turned slow, arching her back a bit, fingers trailing up her sides to lift the tunic's hem, exposing a sliver of midriff. Xithispk grunted, his claw pumping faster, slime splattering lightly on his thighs with each upstroke. "Look at you, bet you're dripping already. Bet that smuggler never made you perform like this. Keep going, slut. Show me the goods."

Her cheeks burned, shame flooding hot through her veins, but she tugged the tunic higher, over her head. Her breasts bounced free, bra-less, nipples hardening in the chill, and she cupped them briefly, thumbs brushing the peaks in a tease that sent an unwanted spark straight between her legs. This wasn't her. Leia Organa didn't **** herself for scum like him. Yet here she was, stepping closer, trousers unfastened now, sliding them down inch by inch, the slide of fabric against her thighs loud in the quiet broken only by Xithispk's ragged buzzes and the wet schlick of his jerking. She exposed more and more of her long delicate legs to him. The scent of his cock hit stronger, algae and arousal mingling into a heady fog that made her head spin, her pussy clenching despite the revulsion knotting her insides.

Pants kicked aside, she stood in just the tiny thong, black lace barely covering anything, the thin strip already damp against her folds. Conflict raged fiercer now, mind yelling to stop while her body leaned in, drawn by some sick gravity. She climbed onto the bed, straddled his lap without touching that throbbing cock, just hovering, grinding air as her ass brushed his wiry hairs, the rasp electric on her skin. So close to him, a lowlife scumbad alien. One of Xithispk's free claws groped at her thigh, pinching hard enough to bruise. "Pathetic rebel bitch, look how eager you are. Your precious New Republic sells you out, and you do nothing. Bet you'd crawl for more if I told you to."