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Moodboard- Rey, Kylo Ren with helmet, alien's head, female's hands restrained by a man's hands

Rey Palpatine moved silently down the corridor of the First Order’s flagship, the Supremacy. Unlike the booted stormtroopers that shadowed her on either side, her constant accompaniment of guards that flanked her every move, her bare feet offered up no sound in the smooth black floors.

If it hadn’t been for the few seconds following each step where her feet left a warm and hazy crescent moon of a footprint, it would have been impossible to tell that she had ever been there at all.

Her grandfather had never let her wear shoes, though she knew she had at some point in her life. Before he had come and found her, when she lived on that horrid desert planet with her filthy junk trader parents. She was sure that she had worn shoes then, meant to protect her feet from the blistering sands.

Palpatine had taken her shoes and replaced her ragged desert clothes with fine gowns of the softest materials. Every pebble had been swept away, every crack in the floors smoothed over. There was nothing to protect her feet from and they had grown soft and tender, unprepared to handle the rough, rocky surface of the planet above the Sith temple- if she had tried to run, she would have been barefoot and in agony. Certain not to make it more than a few paces before the cultists had dragged her back inside.

Her grandfather was a clever man, and he knew all too well that there was more than one way to make a prisoner. Taking her shoes had been the first of many things that he had done to keep her soft, keep her docile, keep her weak.

She had believed that she would never be allowed to leave Exegol again until word had arrived at the ancient Sith stronghold that Palpatine had lost his clone puppet, Snoke, to an unexpected turn of events. The apparent master of the First Order, Snoke had been a necessary part of Palpatine’s plan to return to power, a plan that had been placed in serious jeopardy when Snoke’s apprentice had cut him in half in his own throne room and left the body there to rot.

Or so her grandfather had told her when he’d ordered her to pack her things and placed her on a ship headed straight to the Supremacy. She’d been a gift, a token if entirely deceptive gesture of peace toward the new Supreme Leader, her virgin cunt meant as a distraction to keep Kylo’s head turned away while Palpatine reset his pieces on the board.

She had believed, at least at first, that her grandfather’s plan must be working. Kylo had taken to her immediately, nearly splitting her in two as he fucked her roughly into his bed every night, but it hadn’t taken long for her to begin to see beneath the surface of his mask. He was well aware of what Palpatine was doing, and her grandfather wasn’t the only one maneuvering pieces in this dangerous game.

She followed a familiar path, one of the few that she’s allowed to walk in the seemingly infinite winding corridors of the Supremacy, until she arrived at the room that he had summoned her to. She’d been here before and the long black table of the boardroom was surrounded by faces that she recognized, even if she had never learned their names.

Kylo had made it clear that she didn’t need to know them. They knew her, knew who she was and what she represented, and that was more than enough. He didn’t want his beautiful ornament to concern herself with petty concerns like the names of his generals.

She tipped her chin up as she walked by, squaring her shoulders pridefully as they watched her pass. The thin black fabric of her gown clung to the curves of her breasts and the gentle rounded slopes of her hips. Her back was bare, despite the constant chill of space, and she could feel several dozen eyes boring into her skin.

It irritated her, despite Kylo’s instructions that she should ignore it, his assurances that they were beneath her and therefore of no consequence. She couldn’t will away her feelings on his command, but she followed the instructions he had given her, as she always did, and ignored the stares as she glanced at the head of the table, expecting to see Kylo give her an admonishing shake of his head as he usually did if he sensed her temper was rising toward his staff, but his place at the table was empty.

He always arrived before she did, his mask turning to watch her as she crossed the room to his side, and she faltered at his absence, hesitating for a barely noticeable moment as she contemplated what she should do, but it was enough for one of the three loyalists Palpatine had sent with her to keep an eye on Kylo to smirk at her uncertainty.

Rey moved to her usual position beside Kylo’s chair and turned to wait, calmly staring down General Pryde and trying not to let him see any further vulnerability from her. Palpatine’s cultists had never given her the respect that Kylo’s officers did, a fact that infuriated her.

They knew, more than the others, that her status in Palpatine’s life had been nothing more than that of a lamb raised for slaughter. The First Order may have viewed her a spoiled Sith princess, and in some ways perhaps she was, but Kylo’s rebellion had been a fortuitous turn of events for her, giving her a purpose beyond becoming a sacrifice in some arcane Sith ritual.

She’d always known that was her most likely fate, and internally she had raged against it, but the prick of the med droid’s needles when they dosed her with whatever concoction her grandfather used to give her had been enough to keep her drowsy and compliant until she’d been sent to Kylo instead.

The weeks since her arrival on the Supremacy had been like waking from a dream, with Kylo’s gloved hand guiding her back to reality and herself. He was the first thing that she had seen clearly, had truly felt, since her parents had died.

He had been awed when he’d felt the first stirrings of her connection to the Force, taking off his helmet to smile at her in surprise, but even more so when he’d identified her connection to him. Something Palpatine hadn’t realized, hadn’t been able to sense because it was buried so deeply under the tranquilizers that he’d dosed with so religiously.

He had gravely miscalculated, and Rey had been all too eager to put herself and her newly discovered power into Kylo’s hands. Once she’d started getting stronger, and her mind clearer, her newly awakened instincts told her that while he was ruthless and destructive, he would use those qualities to keep her safe if she would simply give herself over to his keeping.

She’d had to make a choice and she’d chosen him. He was going to kill her grandfather and she was going to help him to do it, help him claim his place as the undisputed power in the galaxy. She would no longer be a spoiled Sith princess, but a vengeful empress.

Kylo had promised.

If Rey had learned anything since she’d come here, it was that Kylo always kept his promises.

 The unpleasant smirk on Pryde’s face disappeared when the door hissed open again and Kylo strode into the room. It was impossible to tell his mood behind the black and silver ambiguity of his mask, but his muscles were coiled and tense and Rey could feel the anger and disappointment that spiked off of him into the Force.

She raised a brow at his entrance, her slight puzzlement turning to genuine curiosity when he raised an arm and tossed the severed head of a being whose species she could not identify onto the boardroom table with a sickening squelch. Dark blood pooled on the glinting black surface and no one spoke as he walked quickly to the head of the table, dropping without a word into his seat.

Beside him, to those looking on, she was nothing more than an ornament, a bauble that had value because it was part Palpatine, and she played the part, sitting prettily on the arm of his chair as his arm wrapped around her waist and his fingers dug possessively into her hip bones.

Kylo tipped his head, looking at the rows of unsure faces as they tried and failed not to sneak furtive glances at the head that lay grotesquely on the table in front of them.

“We had a spy,” he said calmly, his voice distant and modulated through his helmet. “I am the Supreme Leader of the First Order, my grip on this galaxy is meant to be absolute. Why do we still have resistance?”

His question was met with silence, none of his own officers willing to meet his eyes and those sent by her grandfather observing the scene with barely restrained smiles.

“No one has an answer for me? What about you?” he asked, turning his attention directly to the man seated on his right. One of her grandfather’s officers and the one failing the most noticeably at hiding his amusement.

The man straightened quickly, the smile fading from his mouth as he stared into Kylo’s helmeted face, eyes scanning in futile desperation as he searched for some indication of humanity. Finding none, he retreated behind his status as Palpatine’s soldier and sniffed disdainfully. “Perhaps if the Supreme Leader were as effective at controlling the galaxy as the emperor had once been, these problems would not exist. You should be grateful that he’s sent us and offered his help in securing the galaxy under your rule.”

“You think that I should be grateful,” Kylo mused. “I’m not so sure, because, you see, I think that Palpatine’s return has given people the idea that the First Order is not strong enough to hold the galaxy alone. They’ve gotten bolder, harder to control. I don’t like that at all.”

The officer sneered. “Maybe they’re right, maybe you aren’t strong enough to hold the galaxy alone. Darth Vader certainly wasn’t strong enough to lead witho…” He broke off, hands clawing desperately at his throat as his face turned purple and his eyes bulged.

Rey watched in amusement as he was ripped violently from his chair and thrown against the ceiling, the sound of cracking bone and pained moans leaving no doubt in the minds of those present that Kylo had done nothing to soften his landing. He remained there, struggling against the invisible bonds that held him and slowly suffocating while Kylo turned his attention back to the rest of the officers.

Most of them were either shifting their eyes restlessly between the severed head and the man on the ceiling or trying comically hard to appear uninterested.

“Underestimating my ability to control this galaxy is a fatal mistake,” he told them, his mask lingering for several long seconds on the remaining two of her grandfather’s officers. “Everything that Palpatine had is now mine. His empire, his legacy, even his granddaughter. Isn’t that right, Rey?”

Her eyes widened fractionally in surprise as she turned to look at him. Kylo had never addressed her directly during these meetings, preferring for her to stay quiet and play the role he’d assigned her. She wasn’t certain what sort of response he wanted her to give, but she could feel the roiling boil of emotion inside him and knew that his patience with the whole situation had worn thin.

She nodded jerkily, hoping her agreement was the reaction he wanted, and was rewarded with a gentle squeeze from the hand on her hip. Her relief, however, was short lived.

“Stand up,” he commanded her softly, the hand on her hip urging her to her feet and guiding her until she in front of him between his seat and the table. He was behind her and she glanced over her shoulder as he stood up to loom over her, the heat from his chest welcome as it nearly brushed against the cold exposed skin of her back.

He crowded into her, pressing his body against her until she shuffled forward until she ran out of room and her thighs bumped against the table’s edge. He placed one hand on her stomach, holding her in place as the other came to rest on her shoulder, pressing inexorably down until she bent at the waist, her face and chest coming to rest on the icy black surface of the table.

She turned until her cheek rested on the polished metal and her warm breath clouded the reflections of those who watched tensely, as perplexed about what he was doing as she was.

The cold suddenly began to creep up her legs as Kylo inched up the warming fabric of her gown, over her calves and past her knees and then her thighs until he could bunch a handful of it at the small of her back, leaving even the bare curve of her ass exposed as he jammed a knee between her thighs and spread her open, forcing her up on her toes in the process until she let out an undignified squeak. 

A single confused and humiliated tear slipped from her eye to splash onto the table as she met the gaze of a pale and thin-lipped general with red hair that was watching with a forced expression of stoicism, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he clenched his teeth.

He looked away when Kylo shoved two gloved fingers into her dry cunt, ripping an inhuman moan from her lips, and Kylo growled from behind her, “Don’t take your eyes off of her again.”

The general swallowed and turned back to face her and this time it was Rey who looked away, her mind scrambling to find some explanation for this behavior. Kylo had never hurt her, had offered her everything if she gave herself to him completely. He was angry, she could feel that still in the Force, beneath his rising desire, but his anger wasn’t directed at her.

He leaned forward, fisted a hand in her hair and lifted her back up, pinning her against him with one immovable arm and using the other to tug down the front of her gown until her breasts were exposed to the cold recycled air. She reached for him, her fingers digging into the thick sleeves of his black tunic as his dug into her breast, squeezing until she whimpered in pain.

“Does this make you uncomfortable?” he asked, turning to face the officers one by one and assessing their responses before moving on to the next. “Are you going to help her? She’s Palpatine’s granddaughter, after all. If he’s so important, so frightening, then shouldn’t you be afraid of what he might do if he found out I’ve mistreated her?”

No one moved or spoke and even the officer on the ceiling finally stopped struggling, losing his battle for air and letting the room lapse into the kind of all-encompassing silence that makes you forget you’ve ever heard sound.

“No?” Kylo asked, the only one in the room powerful enough to cut into the stillness without fear of repercussion. “And what about you, Rey? Are you going to leave?”

He let go of her, stepped back with his hands spread wide and left her standing alone, struggling to stay upright on legs that trembled. She knew instinctively not to move, not to try to run. Through the haze of fear and adrenaline her mind spins, grasping at his words for clues. Some part of her welcomes this vicious side of him and her connection to him isn’t dimmed, not even now, not even like this.

He had to have known that, of course, had to have been able to feel her responses through the Force. He’s settled and certain as she thinks, unbothered by the moments as they tick away and the room stares at her, awaiting her decision.

A Palpatine’s decision.


This was her chance to prove who’s side she was on. He was tired of waiting, tired of playing her grandfather’s game. He was making his move, forcing her to choose publicly as she had chosen privately and make her allegiance known. If she chooses him now, lets him do this to her here in front of everyone, there will be no doubt that she believes he will be the victor in this power struggle.

Why else would she allow him to treat her this way?

She looked around at his officers, frozen in their chairs. They were also making a choice, showing how much they feared him.

Why else would they stay?

Lines were being drawn and loyalties tested. Rey had already known which side she would be on when it came to this and it was even easier than she had imagined it would be to turn her body to face him and reach her hand out for his.

“I’m not leaving,” she said firmly, the last of her words swallowed by a gasp as he moved, his body a blur as he gripped her and lifted her, setting her down on the table with her ass on the edge and his hips between her thighs.

He wasn’t done yet, she realized, giving in to the pressure of his hands on her shoulders as he guided her back until she was lying on the table like an offering to the Force gods with her dress bunched up on her stomach and his thick cock straining against the fabric of his pants as he nudged his hips to press it against the bare open slit of her cunt.

He reached for his helmet, pressed the hidden latch with his thumb and she watched eagerly as he pulled it off, shaking his head slightly so the rich dark curls of his hair would fall into place. He let it drop into the table beside her hip with a loud thunk as he looked, not at her, but at the rest of them.

The whispered words of love and loyalty between them were temporarily forgotten. She was an object now, a symbol of everything that he was about to lay claim to, and his eyes were hot and possessive when he finally brought them down to look at her.

She’d been frightened the first time she’d seen him, the mask making him seem more monster than man, but now his face was dear to her. She knew every line and shadow that comprised the long slope of his nose, the curve of his brows, the red pout of his lips.

They were parted now, his breath coming in slight pants from between the slightly crooked rows of his teeth. He was eager, pulsing with excitement for her and for power. He was strong and glorious in his brutality.

A dribble of wetness, evidence of the ache of wanting that she felt as she clenched around nothing, dripped onto the table between her thighs and he collected it on his fingertips and pressed it between her lips, past her teeth and onto her tongue.

She lifted her knees, curling her feet to hook around him and draw him in closer, happy to let the others see that she wasn’t just tolerating him, that she wanted him.

No, not let them see.

Make them see.

Let them have no doubt that he owned her and her cunt the same way that he owned all of them.

She didn’t bother to look to either side of her as he worked open the fastenings on his pants- the rest of them had already ceased to matter to her except as a necessary audience with a lesson to learn. His cock was already hard and jutted proudly up toward his stomach before he took it in hand and lined himself up with the slick entrance to her body.

She knew he’d done little to prepare her, and her eager wetness eased the slide as he pushed into her but did nothing to dull the effects of the rapid stretch as her body gave in to accommodate him. She tightened her legs around him, lifted her hips to meet him until he was buried to the base inside her.

The first time he’d fucked her, she’d thought he might tear her in two and sometimes she still wondered if it was possible. The sound that slipped out of her lips was more animal than human and she knew that this was one of those times.

He didn’t wait for her to adjust, or let her muscles relax around him, pulling nearly all the way out of her before snapping his hips and pounding back into her with a wet slap that should have left her feeling humiliated. Instead, she moaned, her mouth wrapping around a noise that was almost his name.

“Again,” she begged, lifting her hips to meet the next thrust and the one that followed.

“Say my name,” he demanded.

“Kylo,” she panted, but his hand wrapped around her throat, the press of his thumb cutting off just enough of her air to be a warning.

“Rey,” he said harshly.

“Daddy,” she amended, giving him the name he only wanted when his cock was buried deep inside her.

He removed his thumb, returning his hand to her hip as he murmured, “Good girl.”

He wasn’t careful or cautious this time, fucking into her roughly and only grunting his approval when she reached for clit and began to circle it in a rhythm that matched the relentless pace that he’d set.

Her orgasm left her gasping, arching her back off the table as her vision went white and she lost all sense of herself beyond the pulsating pleasure and the place where he was connected to her, not easing up in the slightest as he relentlessly fucked her through it.

When did finally come, coating her insides with warmth in waves that seemed to go on forever, he brushed his mind against hers, gifting her with the full unfettered strength of the bond between them. She lost herself in his emotions- amusement and approval and still the heady trace of desire.

He let her lay there quivering and stunned, hands splayed on her abdomen for a moment as he stared directly into her eyes. She was limp, her body still clenching around him as he softened inside her, but heat was rising in her cheeks as reality returned.

Kylo didn’t give her time to think or to feel, didn’t let the embarrassment get far enough into her mind to take root before he tightened his hands on her hips and tugged, her bare ass sliding across the surface of the table, now slick with her arousal and his come as it dribbled out of her.

He took a slight step back, made room for her to touch her wobbly feet to the floor before he used one massive, gloved hand on her shoulder to push her down, his thumb pressing into the delicate hollow of her throat to keep her protests silent on her lips until she knelt on her knees in front of him.

“Clean it up,” he demanded softly, jerking his chin down at the skin of his cock, still glistening from her body and dripping from the tip. “Not like that,” he corrected when she reached for the hem of her gown. “Use your mouth.”

She swallowed, turning her head almost imperceptibly to look over her shoulder. Rows of faces on either side of the table watched her in silent judgement, their faces impassive except for the thin disapproving lines of their lips and the slight tick that she could see in the red-haired general’s jaw.

It was harder to bend her pride without the thick fog of desire to cloud her mind.

Kylo gave her hair a rough tug and bumped his hips forward. “Don’t make me ask you again, princess.”

The subtle threat of violence was there, each word laced with an edge of menace that made her skin tingle with fear and anticipation, but it wasn’t the threat that made her open her mouth obediently and begin to lick and suckle him clean.

It was the look in his eyes, hot and dark and liquid but all pleading despite the deadly certainty in his voice. He would have forced her if she’d denied him, he couldn’t afford to do otherwise and show weakness in front of these sycophantic remnants of her grandfather’s cult, but he didn’t want to. He wanted her to continue to choose him in every way.

She worked him with her mouth until she was certain that she had erased all traces of herself from his skin and then gently tucked him back inside his clothes and closed the fastenings, smoothing the thick black fabric of tunic into place until it looked as though it had never been disturbed.

He was trembling slightly beneath her touch as she turned and curved her body around his leg, her head pressed trustingly to his thigh as she defiantly stared down each of the officers seated at the long table.

“Everything that belonged to the emperor will belong to me,” he said pointedly.

“The loyalty of a Sith whore is more easily acquired than control of the galaxy.”

The officer that had spoken sat across the table from the red-haired one. He was older and his face was pinched with smugness. He was clearly unaffected by the dead man lying at his feet, so confident in his own importance that he was certain that he was immune to sharing the same fate.

Kylo tensed and she felt his power coil at the edges of his mind but before he could react the man that had insulted her was clawing at his own throat desperate for air as the spit he couldn’t swallow began to drip from the corners of his mouth.

She could feel Kylo’s surprise as the man’s face began to purple and his eyes rolled back, leaving nothing showing but the whites, but it didn’t last long as he understood that she, too, was done playing games.

Maybe she should have asked first, but she was tired of listening to Pryde and she had learned enough of strategy from Kylo to know that now that she had made her choice and her loyalty was no longer it question, it was good for the officers to see her power, to realize that she could have fought him off at any point if she had wanted to.

They would have twice as much to fear, when they realized that she was as much a weapon as she was a pretty ornament.

Kylo must have come to the same realization. His approval was a pleasant hum in the Force as he bent his head slightly, lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “It feels good, doesn’t it? Giving in to the dark? We’ll do the same thing to your grandfather and then the galaxy will be ours.”

She smiled, tightening her grip on the general and watching gleefully as he struggled against the inevitable.

“You should know, General Pryde” he said a moment later, “that the Sith whore is the one that’s killing you.”

The others looked in alarm from Kylo, his body now relaxed and unconcerned, to her focused face. She didn’t take her eyes off of the officer until he slumped out of his chair onto the floor beside his equally mouthy companion.

Kylo extended his hand and helped her to her feet, still holding her as she leaned into him. “As I said, everything that belonged to Palpatine is going to be mine,” Kylo repeated.

The air was heavy with the threat in his promise and Kylo always kept his promises.