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Crigg fidgeted nervously, leaning against the wall and twiddling his fingers. Occasionally he'd check to make sure his blaster was still in its holster. Not that he thought it had gotten out and walked away, it was merely a nervous habit of his.

He was a guard in the palace of Jabba the Hutt. A thin, bucktoothed man of average height who looked more rat than human, he wore cobbled together armor whose coloring ran towards various shades of blues and grays, his short, messy brown hair hidden underneath a helmet adorned with narrow-lensed goggles that, to date, he'd never actually worn pulled down over his eyes, and had simply never taken off of the helmet. He had very pale skin and the whites of his eyes were a slightly greenish hue, which combined with his very thin, long, pointy-nosed face with sunken cheeks and prominent incisors, served to make him appear perpetually ill although in truth he never felt healthier.

He was waiting on his lover, standing in a dark corner of one of the many side hallways of the palace. Fraternizing amongst Mighty Jabba's employees wasn't exactly frowned upon, but it wasn't exactly encouraged, either, and Crigg's lover, a particularly fat and unpleasant Gamorrean named Gurt, didn't like having sex publicly. He never participated in the orgies that regularly rocked the audience chamber.

Thinking of those orgies, Crigg was reminded how they invariably ended with someone, for whatever reason, being dropped through the dreaded trapdoor and into "the pit," a place from which no one ever returned. He squirmed a little, feeling his tightfitting spacer's pants grow ever tighter from the erection he was growing thinking about the last time he witnessed someone fall in and get devoured by the Rancor. Crigg, like everyone, loved it when someone became the Rancor's victim. But he had to be careful, lest he himself end up in the pit. In the palace, you treaded carefully and tried to avoided drawing attention to yourself, good or bad. The palace was a lot like a casino. The house always won. Or, rather, Mighty Jabba always won.

What Mighty Jabba wanted may have varied from time to time, and he was shockingly fickle, changing his mind on a dime. Today's favorite slave was tomorrow's meal for the Rancor. But without variation, what Mighty Jabba wanted, Mighty Jabba got, when Mighty Jabba wanted it. And if you didn't give it to him, well, he might just decide he wanted something else from you instead... like your dying screams to be his lullaby as he drifted off into a contented doze on his dais after the party wound down.

Crigg swallowed. That was how everyone ended up anyway; please him or displease him, it was all the same. Punishment and reward were identical in Mighty Jabba's palace: torture, or, in the most extreme cases, horrifying death, all for the evil Hutt's amusement and sexual excitement. His own love of watching people get eaten by the Rancor aside, Crigg wondered how many of the courtiers cheered at the demise of victims because they enjoyed it themselves... or because they knew they had to, lest Mighty Jabba notice that they weren't having as much fun as he was. The Exalted One hated party poopers. And so Crigg always remembered to cheer extra loudly, no matter who fell into the pit.

He heard the sound of shuffling feet and turned. He smiled, showing his crooked overbite. "Gurt!" he called in a whisper.

Gurt was quite simply the biggest, fattest Gamorrean Crigg had ever seen. His great gut, slick with sweat, spilled over his too-tight studded belt. He had love handles on his love handles, and what would've been pectorals on another male sagged like luxurious breasts, the thick, bloated nipples, a darker green than the rest of him, almost black, even, pierced with ornamental rings. He drooled constantly, something he of course couldn't help, being a Gamorrean and all, and his piglike nose twitched and flared as he walked over, giving an oink in greeting.

Crigg responded by grunting back. Gurt had taught him how to speak Gamorrean to some extent, although the fact his voice wasn't deep enough made him sound a little strained and humorous to Gamorrean ears. But Gurt understood him well enough. It was a simple exchange of pleasantries.

He stepped up to Crigg, towering over him, being at least a foot taller; in addition to being the fattest Gamorrean living there, Crigg was convinced he was also by fall the tallest. He was also probably the smelliest. Crigg had never seem Gurt bathe even once, and a foul, trashy, musky stench rolled off of the overweight brute in thick, noxious waves. The human allowed it to envelope him, loving it.

Like all the Gamorreans working in the palace, Gurt wore a furry loincloth for modesty's sake, but it was too small, riding up on his hips, exposing his very large, very fat rear end, and aside from spiked wristlets and leather sandals, the green-skinned porcine male wore nothing else. With his beady eyes he appraised this thin human he'd come to meet secretly, and, as was his habit, wasted no time, bending his snout towards Crigg's face. The human stood up a little straighter and met him halfway, their lips locking in a sloppy kiss that sent Gurt's drool dribbling down over the human's chin. Crigg's gloved hands caressed over the hog's flabby pectorals, stroking his deceptively tough green skin adoringly.

The two had been lovers for some time now, and got along swimmingly. Crigg generally found the company of the Gamorreans preferable to that of his fellow humans. Among the piglike aliens, he felt accepted, normal, appreciated. They didn't mind that he looked awkward and acted clumsily. And in a few of them, he'd even found eager lovers, Gurt among them, although Glurgg was another, but they didn't meet as regularly.

The kiss deepened, and Gurt's thick, slimy tongue forced its way into Crigg's mouth, and one of his big hands knocked the human's helmet off. It landed with a dull thunk on the sandy floor and sausage-like fingers stroked through Crigg's short hair, pulling him closer, mashing his mouth into his so hard that any passersby might assume the Gamorrean was attempting to swallow the smaller male's head.

After a moment, their mouths parted, and they stood back, Crigg panting, Gurt simply growling pleasantly. He licked Crigg's face and placed a calloused hand on Crigg's shoulder and forced the skinny human to his knees before him, his enormous, veiny, dark green cock slowly oozing free of one of the leg holes of his furry skirtlike loincloth. Crigg inhaled its stink and shuddered in pleasured, unzipping the front of his pants to free his own erection, gripping it tightly and squeezing it. He slowly began to masturbate, precum leaking forth. Crigg cupped Gurt's balls and nuzzled and kissed his smelly cock where it stuck through the leg hole, then slowly slid his lips over the swollen head as Gurt grunted and and rocked back and forth, closing his eyes, oinking forth his approval.

Crigg slathered sloppily over the thickness, loving the stench of unwashed male Gamorrean pouring forth from between the flabby thighs spread before him. Gurt's musky, filth stench filled the human's nostrils and drove him wild. The heaving, sweating paunch pressed down against the top of Crigg's head as the human slowly choked the hog's monstrous fat cock down and sucked on it, eager to please the huge green male.

Crigg jerked himself harder. Gurt was the top in this relationship. He got pleasured, never did the pleasuring himself, so if Crigg wanted to cum, he was going to have to get it done himself, unless, of course, the big hog fucked him. But he didn't think their was time for that today.

Gurt growled and thrust his fat meaty hips as Crigg sucked harder, and the human was rewarded with a jet of stinking Gamorrean cum in his mouth. Gurt squealed in pleasure and stroked Crigg's head. Crigg pulled his mouth off of the splurting cock to let the rest of the watery cum splatter all over his upturned face. Gurt grunted in satisfaction. He stood there with his dripping dick. Crigg, cum dripping off of his face, got up and was taken into Gurt's arms and hugged tightly to the fat pig's body, the two kissing and rubbing their cocks together until Crigg hit his peak and came, spewing his load to smear into the fur of Gurt's loincloth.

Composing themselves, the two tidied up. Well, Crigg did, anyway. He gently eased himself back inside his pants and zipped up, then took out a rag he kept in his pocket and hastily wiped Gurt's cum off of his face. Pocketing the now soaked rag, he picked his helmet back up and put it back on. Gurt didn't bother to do anything, letting his dribbling cock continue to hang free of his garment until, with a sigh, Crigg gently reached down, gathered it up, and slid it back inside for him. The drying jizz on the fur of the cloth would have to wait.

With a snort, Gurt turned and ambled off down the hallway and Crigg followed him. They entered the audience chamber just as some kind of impromptu trial was going on. A scantily clad blue Twi'Lek female stood before the dais, head bowed, as Mighty Jabba berated her. Apparently, she'd displeased him somehow. Crigg frowned and said to Gurt in English, which he knew Gurt could understand, "Boy, the Exalted One sure looks angry, I wonder what she did..."

Overhearing, Bib Fortuna snarled at him, "She spoke when Mighty Jabba wanted quiet, and now she'll suffer the consequences..."

Crigg flinched and didn't say anything else. Beside him, Gurt gave him a friendly punch to the arm.

Lifting one flabby arm, Mighty Jabba passed sentence against the slave who'd displeased him. "I sentence this worthless slut to be flogged until she begs for mercy! You! Guard!" He pointed to Gurt. "Discipline her for me!"

Gurt snorted and grinned. Bib handed him a leather flogger with a thick ornamental handle. Two other, smaller Gamorreans, including Crigg's other on again, off again lover, Glurgg, took the Twi'Lek by the arms and bore her down onto her knees. They ripped her flimsy dancing girl costume off, leaving her bare, and then stood back, mindful of the trapdoor, as the girl knelt and sobbed. Walking slowly, each step making his flab ripple and undulate, Gurt stepped up to her, and proceeded to put his huge size to good use. He beat her with the flogger, lashing her across her back, shoulders and ass, as well as across her tits, the better to make the green Twi'Lek squeal in agony and beg her Master for pity.

Mighty Jabba licked his lips and finally called for an end to the torment. "Enough!" he bellowed forth. "Come to me, my beloved. Crawl to your Master..."

The Twi'Lek, sobbing, humbled, crawled back over to the dais as the Exalted One enjoyed her suffering and humiliation. Gurt stood with his hands on his thick hips, satisfied with his handiwork.

"Good job, guard," Mighty Jabba said. "You have always disciplined my slaves well. And that, I think, calls for a reward like no other!"

Dread crept into Crigg, dread mixed with anticipation. As much as he loved fat, smelly old Gurt, if their Master meant what Crigg through he meant, then today was about to get a lot more interesting! Gurt for his part didn't seem aware of how much trouble he was in, and remained where he was - right atop the entrance to the pit. Crigg swallowed, waiting, fearful and eager all at the same time.

"Let's get this party back on track!" the Hutt roared, slamming his fist down on the button that triggering the trapdoor.

The flogger flying from his hand, Gurt issued forth a startled squeal as within mere seconds we went from being a palace guard who specialized in punishing slave girls to being the butt of his Master's latest evil joke, and his corpulent form fell down out of side, the door snapping shut over him with a dreadful finality that made Crigg's stomach do flip-flops and his cock tent his pants once again. Warring emotions broiled within him as he joined everyone in rushing to the viewing grate which looked down into the pit. He panted, terrified, sad and excited all at the same time. Gurt had been his lover, and they'd share many pleasures together in the shadowy depths of the palace away from prying eyes, and he was going to miss him... but that was just how things went in Mighty Jabba's abode. Gurt the Gamorrean had performed his duties well and now he was being given his Master's special brand of reward.

And what a reward! thought Crigg as he jostled with a couple of slave girls to get a better view. Below them, it was clear Gurt didn't share his former lover's opinion of his "reward." Creaking noisily, the door opened to unleash the Rancor, and the immense, powerful monster stepped forth into the pit for its latest fat treat, roaring. The doomed Gamorrean squealed and clawed desperately at the walls as the Rancor slowly approached. Those above watched eagerly. Glurgg sidled up to Crigg, snorting and snuffling, and slid a beefy arm 'round the skinny human's waist. His piggish snout nuzzled Crigg's neck in an affectionate gesture, as, all around them, courtiers, guards and slaves began kissing, stroking and necking. A Rancor feast was a time of celebration.

The human couldn't tear his eyes away from the pit. Below, the fat pig was begging for mercy from the onlookers, Crigg in particular, reaching desperately up towards the bars at the human and pleading in Gamorrean for him to save him. Crigg simply grinned his crooked, bucktoothed smile and stroked himself through his trousers. He'd always wondered what Gurt would be like as a meal for the Rancor. And now it was happening. The secret dream, which, of course, he'd never, ever shared with Gurt, was now a fantastic reality. Gurt was going to die, and Crigg was turned on by it like nothing else.

The Rancor reached its victim. Abandoning his effort to persuade someone to deliver him, Gurt spun around slowly and gawked up at his killer. He squealed, knowing his fate lay in that immense belly. Despite himself, he got another erection out of sheer fear, but he didn't want to die, so he made a spectacle of himself, pleading and squealing, only to be seized in the enormous clawed hand, and, as if his hideously fat form weighed nothing at all, borne into the air. The cheers grew louder as the hog who was naked but for his furry loincloth was lifted up to the drooling maw.

Crigg held his breath. This was it. Yes. Yes!

Gurt went in. The mouth opened wide enough to accept his huge, flabby form and he was crammed in like the mere smack he was. Slowly, Crigg exhaled. He watched, grinning stupidly, as Gurt was eaten. He died a horrifying death with the hardest erection he'd ever had as everyone laughed at his demise - well-earned, as far as they were concerned. Such was the fate of all who Mighty Jabba set his sights on. The Hutt bellow forth his taunting, throaty laugh as Gurt was leisurely eaten, suffering immensely. He didn't die immediately. He was still alive when he was swallowed. His body was broken and mangled, but he was alive, and he was still squirming pitifully inside the Rancor's belly when it swallowed him down and issued forth a crude belch.

"Magnificent! Magnificent!" crowed Mighty Jabba. He grabbed a goblet and drank its rancid, intoxicating contents. "Max!" he yelled. "Music! We're going to party so that they hear us all the way in Mos Eisley!"

The music started up. Everyone began dancing. Crigg remained by the grate, panting softly as he watched the satisfied Rancor turn and trudge back towards its den.

"Ho-ho-hooooo," boomed the all-powerful Hutt whom no one dared stand against, "what a shooooow!"

Crigg had to agree. Feeling something tugging on his belt, he allowed himself to get jerked away from the grate by Glurgg and borne away to a corner for a little drunken fun. I liked you, Gurt, he thought, but goodness, that was the best Rancor feast yet! He smiled and laughed as he snuggled with Glurgg, happy that the fattest Gamorrean in Mighty Jabba's palace was now filling the mighty beast's belly.

Life was never, ever dull in Mighty Jabba's abode.

The End.