<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/736x/0c/91/5c/0c915c2e48f93b6954956c6d650741b2.jpg)</div><br/>Neesa had tasted electricity before. Few that had worn the collar could claim to never felt that jolt and pain before being eased into the abyss. Still there was no getting used to the feeling. Just as there would never be any getting used to feeling an axe blade pressed to one’s throat on awakening from that abyss. She could almost feel the molecules of her skin splitting from one another so sharp was the blade on her body. The hefty chest she commanded heaved in labored breathing while she did her best to back into an unyielding coffin and find some relief from the weapon.<br/><br/>Meak, helpless were the roles she needed to play. Those were the roles she had always been given and the ones she excelled at performing. She didn’t even dare to swallow firmly least the axe draw blood and this creature smell that scent. Instead she gave into whimpering and crying, letting her native tongue do the work. The words of a twi’lek were often associated with those of a whimpering slave, especially coming from a woman.<br/><br/>“Please, I have nothing to give. What do you want?”<br/>