SW:CES:NC:AoA/Practice your dancing

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As much as you’ve practiced as hard as you can, you still are scared you may not be able to please your master. You open the dresser, put on your slave bikini, and begin the rigorous repetition of the dances you’ve learned. You have no doubt that Ayy needs no training at all, but your massive breasts make the complex dances difficult, and you need to be sure you do the best. If you fail, you don’t know what will happen, not just to you but to your sister. If anything happened to her, you don’t know if you could keep going, especially if it’s because of something you did.
You contort and wind your body in all the ways you were taught, by one of the best teachers your master could afford. If you fail, it won’t just humiliate you and your sister, it would be a stain on the reputation your teacher and by extension your master. You can’t afford to have that happen: the very thought of what he might do to you shakes your very core and drives you to push yourself even harder until you think you might collapse if you continue.
Before that can happen however, a series of hard knocks on your cell door startle you and send you careening to the floor. Ayy jumps up, startled and quickly turns to the door. The slider opens and reveals a weequary guard, who stares you down.
“If your done playing, Graargru demands you. BOTH of you. Now.”
You and Ayy get up, with you waiting for Ayy to get into her slave bikini, and are escorted to the main hall, where the fat slug is waiting on his throne, surrounded by fellow Twi’leks, Zeltrons, and other beautiful species, even some humans mixed in. Graargru is known to indulge heavily in his slaves, often forcefully as a punishment for making him mad. He is cruel, even by the standards of a Hutt, which makes up for his lack in power among them. He hopes that you two will increase his standing among the clans, either by flaunting you, or selling you. If he deems you unworthy, you fear what he may do to you and your sister.
“Mighty Graargru, connoisseur of fine women,” his protocol droid kiss up. “I have brought you those two fine Lethan girls for you to judge their abilities and merits as high prestige slaves and objects of your desires.”
He turns is fat head to you and Ayy and you both shudder as his bulging eyes slither up and down your figures. He lets out a bellowing laugh at your fear and spouts out something in his native tongue, which the droid translates.
“Master Graargru is excited to see how you girls have progressed and has high hopes and a lot of money riding on your success.”
With hesitation and concern, Ayy steps up first and demonstrates her skills at their absolute peak. Her graceful movements, her slim, curvaceous features, her natural sensuality, you don’t know how you will ever top her. Fuck, I’m going to fail you Ayy, you think to yourself in fear.
She soon finishes and you step forward, giving your every bit of drive. You can’t fail him, because you would fail as a slave and bring Ayy down with you, so you flaunt your best feature to compensate for the lack of mobility you perceive to have. You shake them all about and they bounce to great heights as you go mad on the floor until it is over and you are covered in sweat and panting heavily, with a tiny bit of drool dripping onto your breasts (we’ll see how he likes that, even if that was unintentional). He claps and laughs heartily and commands you to sit down while he and his droid deliberate.
You turn to Ayy and she looks to you, both of you showing fear and desperation in your eyes. You don’t know what’s going to happen. You can’t afford to lose her. You’re all she has left and she’s all you have left. If you are separated or she is punished, you don’t know if you’ll be able to take it, nor she if it happens to you. After what feels like a century, you and Ayy jump up as the Hutt has come to a decision.

He is highly impressed with both of you.

He is impressed with Ayy, but you have disappointed him.

You have done well, but Ayy has failed him.

You both are well breed, but he is disappointed.