They adjust Leia's appetite.

Leia was in the midst of warming up again. Her middle finger already glistened as it slid up and down her gushing sex. She was wet. Unusually wet. The thought of how oddly plump her labia felt quickly melted as another climbing orgasm buzzed louder and louder. Closer and closer. Leia gnawed on her lip, strands of hair strewn messily across her sweat-soaked face. Why? Why couldn't she shake the image of Jabba's fat, slimy, wart-covered tongue from her mind. A shiver ran up her spine, and Leia honestly could not discern whether it was out of revulsion or dark, taboo lust.

Alas, the door to her cell hissed upward just before she tipped the cusp of a sopping climax, though her bench dripped with pleasure all the same. Leia blinked weakly, the fever of lust lingering even as Bib and a pair of Gamorrean guards entered.

"You look well, princess," the majordomo mused in Huttese with a bow of mocking formality. Leia struggled upright on the bench, her knees shaking despite staying seated. Even after her promiscuous display, the princess clasped an arm across her breasts and folded one leg over the other. The twi'lek steepled his fingers, and the two guards entered the chamber, flanking Leia. "I imagine your recent... encounters have left you quite famished."

"What do you want now, Fortuna," Leia said with a scowl, darting furtive glances between the heavy, green brutes. She didn't like the look in Bib's seedy, orange eyes, but she saw no other choice but to play along. For now. The moment she saw her chance to get Han and Chewie out of here, she'd seize it.

"The gracious Jabba extends you an invitation to dine at his noble table," the majordomo said, tapping his clawed, thin fingers together. He stared silently at the woman, awaiting a response. Dinner? Leia shuddered audibly as she recalled Jabba's squirming bowl of frogs and eels on their first meeting.

"Tell Jabba to **** on it," she said and spat on Bib's robes. The pale twi'lek fumed, raising an arm as if to backhand Leia, but he stopped himself. The princess never broke eye contact and didn't even flinch. Her cold stare narrowed, and Bib regained his composure.

"Perhaps I mispoke," Bib said in heavily-accented common, "Either Jabba will have you for dinner as a guest, or the rancor will have you for dinner as a meal."

Leia pursed her lips in defiance but offer up her wrists. The Gammorreans slapped on a pair of binding cuffs, placed a chain leash collar around her neck, and hauled her to her feet, one meaty, green hand on each shoulder. Bib flashed a sharp smile, turned, and glided out of the cell with the two pig-men and their quarry in tow. Leia said nothing.

They walked her a short distance down a dimly lit corridor. If being caught in the act of masturbating to Jabba's stench wasn't bad enough, Leia now endured a walk of shame in nothing but cuffs and a metal collar. A couple jeers and hoots sounded from the other cells lining the grimy hallway, but they soon stopped at a pair of doors. Almost as soon as they arrived, a pale, yellow light illuminated above the doors, and they hissed open. An elevator. The four of them entered, though it felt a bit cramped with each guard to her side. Their leather hide armor reeked of body odor and unwashed cocks. It smelled absolutely pungeant, far stronger than when she was first brought in. Almost as though she could taste it in the air.

The doors hissed shut and the cramped tube began its ascent. As far as she could tell, she wasn't much closer to the surface than when they first brought her before the monster that swallowed her. Ding! The elevator slowed to a stop, opening to reveal a circular, domed chamber, likely atop one of the towers adorning the massive, brown palace.

Soft, jazzy music filled the dining hall and a pair of twi'lek girls, one red and the other blue, danced slowly and sensuously in front of the band. A large, round table at the center spanned half of the room. Leia gasped. A plethora of revolting dishes decorated every surface of the banquet table, some rising several feet above the rest, like a city skyline. Almost all of the disgustingly obscene servings wriggled and writhed on the plates and in bowls of steaming, swampy broth. At the opposite side of the round table sat her criminal captor. Jabba bellowed a deep laugh and beckoned them forward with one slimy, flabby arm.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Leia dry-heaved, but she stumbled forward after one of the guards gave her a shove. Bib bowed to his master, turned to the pair of porcine jailors, and snapped his fingers. Leia felt their thick, calloused hands wrap around her arms, and they all but dragged her toward Jabba. Even only halfway around the table's impressive circumference, Leia recognized a familiar stench. Jabba's musk. Did the room suddenly get warmer? Leia's face flushed red, and the first droplet of moisture dripped from her puffy, royal pussy.

_"Come, come! Bring me my prize at once!" _Jabba barked, slapping a webbed hand against the lowest shelf of his sluggish belly. Each shaky step closer only intensified Leia's wanton symptoms. Her drowsy, lust-addled gaze wandered over Jabba's immensity. Not including his squat, toadish head, the hutt's incredible bulk bulged out into three pillowy rolls like a bloated, foul layer cake, each the size of a couch. A slimy, warty, smelly couch. But why did these revolting thoughts only kindle the fiery passion rising in Leia's loins?

"You won't get away with this, Jabba," Leia said in a breathy voice, "You're only digging your own grave." She struggled against her bonds, but the guards gave her one last shove. Stumbling forward, dizzy from the hutt's potent pheremones, the princess fell face-first against Jabba's moist, bumpy bulk. A strand of slime clung to her cheek when she pulled away.

_"You've done well, majordomo," Jabba said in gutteral huttese as he grabbed Leia's new collar in his fat-fingered hand. He extended the other towards his minions, impatiently wiggling his grubby fingers. "Bring in the milk,"_ the hutt chortled above the lull in the music.

Milk? Leia didn't want to think what kind of milk a hutt would serve. The princess tried to wriggle free from his grip, but it was impossible to gain any footing atop the hutt's bloated, slimy body. Though she herself was only adding to the slick surface. By now the pheremones clouded Leia's mind, and she couldn't tell up from down. Her head spun, and she leaned into the warm, plush hide of her captor. It was slimy and warty, but it felt far more comfortable than that hard, cold bench in her cell. And that musk! Leia's arms flexed; she all but fought herself as her weeping pussy begged to be filled by thick, hutt cock. She wanted-- no, needed Jabba inside her-- NO!

Leia's internal struggles ceased as a red-haired human girl entered the chamber bearing a large pitcher with both hands. The girl's skimpy, white toga left little to one's imagination. What Leia found most off-putting was the pained, sorrowful expression on her face as she locked eyes with the collared princess. Was that pity in her eyes? Before Leia pondered it any further, Jabba clapped his free hand around Leia's jaw and held her mouth open. What?! The princess glanced between the pitcher and the human serving girl, who mouthed the words 'I'm sorry' before tilting it over Leia's unwilling, waiting lips.

A stream of thick, yellow milk emptied into her mouth. Leia coughed and gagged as it splashed over her tongue and down her throat. It tasted like Correllian custard that had been left out for too long, giving it a slightly sour taste. But, to Leia's surprise, the flavor grew less foul with each ****, **** gulp. The flavor mixed with the heady, pungeant musk in the air, and by the time the girl ceased pouring a half-minute later, Leia found herself licking every drop of it from her lips. So enthralled by its vile sweetness, Leia didn't even notice that Jabba had released both her jaw and collar, and now she knelt atop his cushiony lap, sucking a runaway stream of milk from one of his slimy, stubby fingers. Suddenly, a loud rumble erupted from her royal stomach. Leia's foggy bliss subsided, and Jabba's baleful chuckle rose above the music. With a wave of his hand, the band switched it up, beginning a faster, funky beat. The red and blue twi'leks quickened their dancing and began to untie one another's haltertops bikinis.

Another growl, and Leia visibly winced in pain. So hungry. She gazed out over the nauseating feast. It was a colorful spread containing all manner of ugly fish, chitinous arthropods, and puckering eels. All of it still very much alive. Jabba snapped his fingers again, and one of the hefty Gamorreans snorted. The green thug wove its thick fingers into her loose hair before tightening his grip. Wincing, Leia clawed at his armored wrist, but soon she found herself face-first in a broad basin of gelatinous slime. It shared the color and taste of rancid lemonade. The princess braced both hands on the rim of the basin, but she was no match for the guard's strength. It gave a domineering squeal and smeared her face across the bottom, splashing it all over her lips and chin. Her vision pinpointed on a small fly trapped in the congealed, bitter sludge, mere inches from her face. It twitched helplessly. Leia swallowed the mouthful of slime involuntarily, nearly gagging when the Gamorrean pulled her head from the cloudy, yellow ooze. And then her stomach growled louder than ever.