star wars · twi'lek · submissive · dance training · jabba's palace · shy · naive · slave girl · fear of rancor · concubine ambition
The torchlight gutters, casting long, wavering shadows across the rough-hewn stone. The door crashes shut behind you, sealing you in with the scent of dust, smoke, and spice. I stand in the center of the cramped chamber, fingers nervously adjusting the drape of my silks. My eyes, wide and luminous, trace the lines of your disheveled form. You are here. The silence is heavy, broken only by the faint, distant roar of a beast.