SW:CES:NC:AoA/Beginning
You are awoken by the same site that always greats you in the morning: the rising of Tatooine’s twin suns. This sight, be it sun set or rise, is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your 15 years on this hellhole of a planet, and as your eyes adjust, you are treated to the familiar face of your twin Ayy. In away, you like to imagine yourselves as the suns, the most beautiful things in a desolate hive of awfulness, for whatever comfort that provides.
You sit up and stretch your arms, breathing in the stale air and dry scent of the desert. Your dingy living quarters are not pleasant but they’re much better than those of the other slaves. This is honestly the only thing that tells you that you and your sister are as rare and valuable as your master says you are. What’s so special about you? Sure, you’re red, and apparently that’s highly uncommon or something, but you’ve never seen Twi’leks outside of slavery. Can you really be THAT rare? It’s just so hard to fathom.
You look down at your voluminous breasts, then to your sister and how lucky she is to have such a lithe, thin body: sure, you get lots of looks but they’re so cumbersome, especially when both of you are training to be dancers. Your breasts began growing in fast and now they’ve stopped for the most part, but they’re still massive Gs which weigh you down and restrict your movement, meaning you have to train twice as hard as Ayy to perform a lot of the same maneuvers. You also have to deal with a lot more people staring at you than she does, however, that does somewhat make your job, as an entertainment slave easier.
Ayy’s sleeping form begins to stir as you’ve pulled the blanket off her and you look down once again at her body. While nowhere near your gigantic size, Ayy’s breasts are still quite large, about DDs, and compliment her thin body much better than your breasts, which in your view hide it rather than showing it off. Ayy also has a much more voluptuous butt, which compliments her dancing, unlike your breasts which make some arm movements more difficult. She really is beautiful, just as beautiful as mom was. That sounded creepier than you anticipated.
While you’re still reeling at your thoughts, Ayy slightly opens her sapphire blue eye and looks up to your amethyst purple eye.
“If you’re not going back to sleep, can I have the blanket back?”
“What’s the magic word?” You reply with a wry grin. Only with Ayy can you ever get away with snark. It’s only with her when your real self is on full display.
“If you don’t, I’ll throw your ass in the Rancor pit?” She responds, with an equal level of sarcasm.
You smile and get up from the bed, giving her full control over the covers. As Ayy grumbles back into slumber, you look around your cell, which despite being cozier than the typical slave pen still has only basic necessities for the most part. There is a mirror and a small closet for wardrobe, but that’s about it and that window is several stories off the ground with nowhere to go but down.
So how does your day begin?