Mos Eisley Classic Race
Rating: NC-17
Bethany Handcuff

Authoress' notes: Please read and enjoy all of my stories, and please leave me feedback: ahandcuffgirl(at)yahoo(dot)com

The Clone Wars are over. The Jedi have been all but vanquished. Jedi Padawan Tallisibeth Enwandung-Esterhazy, better known as Scout, has been hiding out on Tatooine, at Jabba's Palace. In exchange for hiding her from Vader and his legions of Stormtroopers, Jabba has demanded that she pretend to be one of his slaves. As our story begins, Jabba has summoned her from her duties cleaning the slaves' quarters.

“Yes, Mighty Jabba?” Scout said as she entered the throne room, half fearfully-half-annoyed.

Even after all this time, she didn't completely trust the Hutt, and didn't know what humiliating task he would want her to perform this time.

“My shag,” he said in his booming voice.

Scout sighed in annoyance. She hated it when he called her a slave, even if she agreed to it to maintain her cover.

“Yes, Mighty Jabba?” she answered obediently.

“The Mos Eisley Classic race is coming up. My jester here, has given me a fantastic idea to win it,” he said, waving a hand towards Salacious Crumb off to the side.

Scout glared at the little Kowakian monkey-lizard perched above Jabba's platform. After barely a moment though, her expression turned apprehensive, like Jabba liked his ... lackies to be, and curious. She had no idea what the Mos Eisley Classic was.

“Please tell us, Mighty Jabba?” Scout asked politely.

“You will run the race!” Jabba announced with a booming laugh.

One of the first rules Scout had learned about Jabba's palace was, when the Hutt laughed, everybody laughed. Because of that, the chorus of laughter from around the audience chamber was no surprise. Scout was surprised though—and worried—that the laughter seemed genuine.

“O—kay, Mighty Jabba,” she answered carefully.

“Excellent! Guards, take my champion to the tack room and prepare her for her first practice run,” Jabba announced.

That definitely worried the young Jedi. Whenever Jabba wanted one of his slaves—and she was pretending to be one—'prepared', it didn't turn out well for the slave.

Half an hour later one of Jabba's pig-faced Gamorean guards led Scout back into Jabba's presence, in the air speeder hanger. Led was an accurate term, since he held the end of a leash clipped to the thick nerfhide collar around her neck.

The preparations were as bad as Scout had feared. First the guards stripped her naked. She still hadn't gotten completely used to being naked in front of strangers. Then they made her put on nerfhide boots that came up to just below her knee. The boots had a tall heel, probably fifteen centimeters, but with no actual heel. The bottom of the front of the boot was shaped like the hoof of a kybuck. The boots were so stiff that Scout couldn't flex her feet even a centimeter.

Next the guards wrapped a thick nerfhide waist cincher around her stomach, pulled it tight, and locked it in place. There were an assortment of D-rings and attachment points around the waist cincher.

The guards put a nerfhide harness around her chest and breasts. The harness encircled her breasts, squeezing and displaying them. The aforementioned collar, nearly eight centimeters high, was around her neck.

There was another harness around her head, with a long cylindrical synthrubber gag pulled tightly across her mouth. Nerfhide panels sticking out from either side of the harness at eye-level severely limited her field of vision.

Then they slid her hands into nerfhide mittens that forced her hands into useless fists. The mittens had straps that the guards tightened and locked at her wrists. More straps went around her biceps. There were also D-rings on the mittens. Last of all, the guards crossed her arms behind her back, and locked each of her wrists to the opposite bicep.

“You look beautiful, my shag,” Jabba announced.

Scout stamped her foot and grunted through her gag in response. To her further annoyance, he—and everyone else—laughed at her response.

“Come closer, my shag, so I can add a few decorations,” Jabba told her.

Before Scout could even react the Gamorean was pulling her—by her leash—towards Jabba. With his strength, Scout had no chance of resisting. The Gamorean pushed her against Jabba's dais, and Scout watched in horror as the Hutt reached out towards her exposed nipples with some sort of open clamps. Scout screamed into her gag as the clamps shut on her helpless nipples.

“Attach her to the cart, so she can practice for the race,” Jabba instructed the guards as Scout tried to go through a Jedi calming exercise.

Another Gamorean quickly pushed some sort of cart up behind Scout, and he and the first one attached the two poles extended from the front of the cart to the sides of her waist cincher.

Scout was still trying to look down at the clamps on her nipples when she felt the cart shift. Since she couldn't really see them anyway—mostly because of her collar stopping her from looking down—she glanced back to see the little Kowakian monkey-lizard sitting in the cart. Worse yet, he was was holding a set of reins in one hand, and an energy prod in the other hand. While Scout glared back at Salacious Crumb, the two Gamoreans attached the other ends of the reins to rings on the sides of the big gag in her mouth.

To Scout's utter humiliation, she realized that she would be pulling the cart—and Salacious Crumb—while being controlled by the evil little Kowakian monkey-lizard. This was simply too much. She just wouldn't do it, and to hell with what Jabba thought about it.

Jabba let out another booming laugh—echoed by the monkey-lizard behind Scout and the Hutt's other lackeys—then belched loudly. Suddenly Scout felt the energy prod shock her upper thigh.

She screamed in pain through her gag as she practically leapt forward, involuntarily pulling the cart along behind her. That was far more painful than she thought it would be. She quickly felt another painful shock, followed by the reins pulling her head sharply to the left.

Scout turned her head to her left, and changed direction without even realizing it. Salacious Crumb cackled with glee, and tugged lightly on her right rein to straighten her out as he shocked her ass again.

Scout quickly realized just how helpless she was. The energy prod was normally used on Jabba's thick-skinned—and thick-headed—Gamorean guards. There was no way she could endure it, even for a few seconds. She tried to calm herself enough to pull the energy prod out of his hands with the Force, but besides making her run, the shocks kept breaking her concentration.

After getting shocked a few more times, Scout gave up, and just tried to run like Jabba wanted her to. Salacious Crumb still kept shocking her, every few steps, and guiding her between the rows of speeders and small ships around the hanger at nearly full speed. The rest of Jabba's lackies clapped and cheered as she ran.

Scout tried to control where she ran somewhat, but Salacious Crumb kept jerking her reins—and her—without warning. Soon she gave up, and just let him lead her. He was surprisingly smooth at controlling her direction with the reins, even while still shocking her every few steps with the energy prod.

About five minutes later, Salacious Crumb pulled her to a stop in front of Jabba's dais. She was still panting from the run, and her tight waist cincher.

“Excellent, my shag!” Jabba announced as the monkey-lizard jumped up and down on the cart with glee. “You will practice everyday until the race.”

Scout didn't want to practice at all. She wanted to tell Jabba to find some other slave to run his damn race. Since she was bound, gagged, and helpless though, she couldn't at the moment.

“When it is time for the race next month, I expect you to be the fastest kybuck girl ever!” Jabba proclaimed.

Next month? Scout thought with despair. Jabba wanted her to let that little womp rat shock her everyday for nearly a month just to run some stupid race!

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