Smut warnings: ownership, prostitution, sexual servants
There were five of you, in total.
Five women living together in a set of quarters. Rooms separated, but living space kept the same. It was never kept exceptionally tidy; there was no point if someone was just going to make a mess again. But, it was decorated luxuriously. Sheer curtains and fabrics hanging from the ceilings, comfortable duvets and mats laid out on the floor. A shared space for the five women who lived there.
A shared space for the man they were there to please.
The Supreme Leader needed his release, or so the women had been told. He had a tendency toward anger and needed a release to help him relax. He was the Supreme Leader after all; whatever he wanted, he got. And what he wanted were five women.
Perhaps they weren't women at all. You never saw them as other women; it was impossible to view them as such. To the First Order, you were all nothing more than property.
Expensive, fragile property.
Skin draped in the finest jewels that money could buy. Curves barely hidden away by tasteful silks and lace. The finest lingerie in the galaxy. The best make-up found in both the Inner and Outer Rims. Fine metals and fabrics. Delicate beading and stitching. All the best for the five women that belonged to the Supreme Leader.
You were all different. All unique from one another. Different body types, skill sets, and features. Different species. All made different so that the Supreme Leader could use them however he saw fit. Whatever he wanted, there was a woman he could find for it.
The Supreme Leader was generous. He dressed you all in the finest clothing in the galaxy, but only when he saw clothing to be appropriate. That was almost never. He allowed his Knights of Ren to have their way with the women whenever they so pleased. He didn't mind sharing.
The Supreme Leader was greedy. The women would not be shared outside of his inner circle. They were dressed how he saw fit, given grand feasts when he wanted to reward them. But he was greedy. Sometimes, he would only use them for his own release. Pleasure was not a shared experience.
They could take care of that themselves once they got back home.
The five women were not shy with one another. You did not want to know each other's names, nor did you address each other as such. They weren't friends. They were competition. You merely indulged each other to stay alive. There was no shortage of anger between them. There was no shortage of pleasure between them either. They often slept together to finish what the Supreme Leader refused to.
These were not women. They were play-things.
All different, all unique, but they had one thing in common. They all hated you.
You. In all of your seductive glory. You must have been a witch. You must have been an enchantress or a temptress. They refused to acknowledge you. You did not exist to them.
They were jealous.
Even now, as you lay across the fine silk-encased pillows on the floor with your data-pad in your hands, you feel their burning glares on your back. You lay across the pillows like a cat; calm and alluring. Dressed in the finest black lingerie. Sheer lace putting in minimal effort to conceal your body. Draped in jewels and gemstones from the far reaches of the galaxy. A slim black collar fastened around your neck, glittering brilliantly under the dim lights.
Oh, how they despised you.
Good, you think to yourself with a smirk, they have a reason to hate me, anyways.
The sound of the door opening catches your attention. You sit up slowly, unbothered by the sight of one of the Knights of Ren in the doorway. The other women stand eagerly. Foolishly.
Their hopes are dashed to pieces when the Knight utters your name. Again.
You smirk as you rise from the pillows. Your bare feet press against the cold ground. The chill of the tile beneath your feet could not compare to the icy glares the women were giving you. You pay them no mind. They were nothing now. They were useless.
The Knight guides you away from your quarters. He used to be able to touch you. Now he didn't dare to lay a hand on your precious skin. He walks ahead of you, not bothering to guard you like he was supposed to. He knew by now that you would never run. You didn't have a reason to.
The halls are familiar to you; you have the way to the throne room mapped out in your head. This path is a familiar one. You take it nearly every day. The other path you have memorized is the one to another set of quarters. His quarters. That is not the path you are on today, but perhaps tonight that will change.
The Knight says nothing as he comes to a halt outside the doors leading to the throne room. You do not bother to look at him. You are above that now.
With a soft hiss, the blaster doors slide apart. They reveal the mystery and threatening nature of the throne room to you. Black floors so shiny and clean that you could see your own reflection in them. Walls of deep red that seem to stretch on endless as they wrap around the room. Guards garbed in red missing from their posts this time around. And in the center of it all sits the reason the women hate you.
The Supreme Leader.
Perched atop his throne like a statue; menacing and fearsome. Dressed in black from head to toe. Draped in thick cloth and leather. He sits with his knees spread apart and an elbow settled on the armrest. His face is concealed. Hidden away by the terrifying mask of black and silver.
You do not fear him anymore.
"Sir," you bow your head low to show him respect.
When he speaks, his voice is distorted by the mask. Crackling and sharp and more aggressive than how the words are actually delivered. "Come."
There is no hesitation on your behalf. You approach the throne with confidence, already knowing what he wanted before he could even say it. You climb the steps and sink to your knees before him, eyes never once leaving the visor of his mask.
His gloved hand extends towards your face. You bite back a smile as he cups your cheek and strokes the skin there. The Supreme Leader's thumb slides across your lips, gently parting them as he presses down. You are careful to bite down on the leather instead of his finger. He draws his hand back, allowing you to pull off his glove with ease.
The pale skin of his strong, calloused hand is revealed to you. You practically purr at his touch as he glides that hand over your check again. The sensations of skin on skin leaving tingles behind.
"Good pet," he praises.
You watch as his hands lift to the sides of his face. His thumbs slip beneath the mask, followed by a soft click and a squeak. The Supreme Leader pulls the mask up over his head, setting it aside carelessly.
His handsome face is revealed to you. Plush lips and dark eyes set against smooth, pale skin. A face covered in beauty marks that splatter across his cheeks and even over the bridge of his prominent nose. Dark, thick waves frame his features. A shallow scar cuts right across his cheek and disappears into the neckline of his tunic.
This time, you are permitted to smile. Eagerly, you grip his thighs to pull yourself up into his lap. His hands settle on your waist.
The other women hate you. The Supreme Leader is now Kylo Ren to you.
You are his. Only his.
"I missed you," you pout at him, hand clinging to his tunic.
His lips twitch. "I missed you too. How has my little pet been?"
This time, you smirk. "They hate me. The others. They want me dead."
"Do they?" He chuckles. "I can't imagine why."
Kylo absentmindedly toys with the shiny black collar around your throat. His fingers trace the gemstones and diamonds embedded into the material. He had gifted you the collar himself to show everyone who you belonged to. None of the others had a collar. None of the others received presents from him.
He liked to spoil you. He liked to give you pieces of lingerie that you would wear when you saw him. He liked gifting you beautiful gowns to stroll around the Supremacy in when you were feeling bored. After all, you were the only one allowed to leave those shared quarters.
"Why do you keep them around?"
Kylo tilts his head. "Is my pet jealous?" When you huff at him, he chuckles once more. "To humor them. My Knights find use in them and who am I to deny them their pleasure?"
"So generous, Supreme Leader." You murmur, leaning in to brush your lips against his.
"Hm, you can thank me right now." Kylo hums.
"Of course, sir. Anything for you."
Your lips meet in the middle. Kylo pulls you snug against his chest, hands settling on your hips as you straddle his thigh. The kiss is ferocious; when is it ever not? Teeth and tongues clashing, your fingers threading through his thick hair.
The other women hate you. They are not allowed to kiss their Supreme Leader.
Kylo's hand grips your throat tightly, giving you just enough air to breathe comfortably. His nose presses against your cheek as he kisses you passionately. He groans into your mouth at the feeling of your tongue brushing against his. Chests heaving, nails scrabbling with desperation, panting and whining into one another's mouths.
His hands slide up from your hips to grope at your tits through the thin fabric of the lingerie. Your nipples push against the lace that rubs against them and grants them friction. You moan into Kylo's mouth as he punches and rolls your nipples between his fingertips.
The other women hate you. The Supreme Leader never touches them like this.
Kylo pulls his head back, lips swollen and reddened by the intensity of the kiss. He admires your features as you roll your hips to soothe the ache between your legs. You rub against his thigh, clinging to his arm for dear life.
"Pathetic whore," he murmurs, pawing lazily at your breasts. "My pathetic whore."
"Kylo-" you pant, eyes screwing shut as his pant leg rubs against your clothed clit "-Please!"
His hand shoots up to grab your throat again. He yanks you forward threateningly, but you do not cease to ride his thigh. "What did you call me?"
"Supreme Leader!" You beg. "Please touch me."
The other women hate you. The Supreme Leader is serious when he tells them to call him by his title. With you, he is not.
"Such a desperate little pet I have. So needy." He purrs, fingers tracing up the intricate patterns of the lace.
"I-I'm gonna-" you can't even finish your sentence. Your thighs quake and your head tips back as your peak approaches.
You whine as Kylo suddenly yanks you from his leg. He readjusts you to straddle him atop the throne. His fingers slide up your thigh, ghosting the crease where your leg meets your cunt. You breathe heavily as he teases you mercilessly.
"Beg for it. Beg for your Supreme Leader's fingers." He orders almost lazily.
"Please, sir. I need you!" You shake with desperation. "I need your fingers in me."
Kylo squeezes your throat. "Good girl."
Your yelp of shock echoes through the vast throne room as he rips your panties clean off. His thumb finds your clit with ease, rubbing hard to provide you relief.
The other women hate you. The Supreme Leader never prepares them for him.
Your hips roll into his hand and you whine into his ear, needing nothing more than for his fingers to fill you. Kylo does not oblige this time. He is set on teasing you.
"You'll cum when I let you," he growls as you cling to him tightly. "I'll fill your pussy whenever I want. You belong to me. Say it."
"I-I'm yours!" You gasp, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure intensifies. "Always yours, Supreme Leader."
"Cum on my fingers, slut."
Your moan practically ricochets off the walls, undeniably alerting the men standing guard outside. Your chest heaves as you come down from your spiraling high. When your eyes open, you find Kylo staring at you with admiration.
They despise you. They despise how he looks at you.
Kylo lifts his fingers—shiny with your slick and your cum—to your lips. You suck on them obediently, never once breaking eye contact with him. He smirks at the sight of you eagerly taking his fingers. Your tongue swirls around them, mimicking what you would do if you had his cock in your mouth instead.
When Kylo pulls his fingers free, a string of spit connects his skin and your lips. "Messy girl. Take out my cock."
You are eager to do so. He had been on a mission for the past week. It had been so incredibly lonely without him. It was always a treat for you when he would call you late at night. A hologram of him would appear before you. One of him stroking his cock with your name tumbling from his lips. You would return the favor by fingering yourself for him.
They others hated you. They knew about the calls and could hear them from their own rooms.
Your fingers tremble with your over-eagerness as you unzip his pants and reach inside. He pulls his lower lip through his teeth when your hand wraps around him. His dick is already hard and practically aching for your touch. Pre-cum leaks from the tip, which curves upwards towards his naval with an angry red color. Dark veins bulge against his skin as evidence of his need for you.
You scoot upwards, readjusting your hips. Kylo hisses sharply as you slowly sink down onto him. Your pussy takes him greedily and without hesitation. He grips onto your hips tightly, bucking his own upwards. You moan at the sensation of him stretching and filling you.
"Fuck," he curses. "So wet and tight."
Your hand finds his forearm, holding on tight as you begin to ride him. Kylo stares at you as your head falls back and your eyes screw shut. He watches your tits bounce and your chest heave every time you exhale or your hips drop. The feeling of you clenching around him could not be replaced by anything else.
Kylo's cock rubs perfectly against that spongy spot that had been screaming for attention. You let out a sharp gasp at the feeling of it; silently begging for him to find it again. The head of his cock finds your cervix with ease. With his size, it was never difficult to fill you up to the brim. Sometimes, he liked to press his hand against your lower belly and feel his cock bulging there.
"K-Kylo!" You hiccup, unable to help yourself.
"Perfect fucking slut." He groans.
Kylo always looked godly like this. His head falls back against the throne, hair messy and plastered to his sweaty forehead. His heavy, pleasure-filled eyes flutter shut. Pink lips part as his heavy breathing and grunts fill the room.
Tears spring into your eyes when you feel his hand slip down. He rubs furious little circles against your clit, finding a pattern he knew you liked. You feel his cock twitch inside of you, signaling that he was getting close. If he was trying to rub you like this, it meant he wanted to cum together.
Your lips find his again, desperate for his warm kiss. You pant heavily into each other's mouths, struggling to stay connected. His forehead presses against yours as your breathing practically goes shrill.
"Cum for me, pet." He orders breathlessly. "I know—fuck—you want to."
Everything seems to shatter around you as you writhe on top of him. Just as you cum around his cock, he empties his load into you. He paints your walls white as he thrusts his hips up further into you, if that was even possible. Your shoulders heave as you slump forwards against him.
"Good girl," he murmurs. "Such a good slut for me."
"Only for you, Supreme Leader." You pant.
Kylo clicks his tongue as if he's disapproving of your actions. He hands lowers to swipe at the mixture of cum beginning to seep down. "Look at this mess you've made."
If you stand now, surely you would make even more of a mess. Still, you take a breath and move to rise to your feet, hoping your legs are strong enough to support you. Kylo catches you by the wrist, stopping you.
"Keep me warm," he murmurs, pulling you back down. "Be here today. I have meetings I need to attend to and they can be rather... stressful."
"Won't I be a distraction, Supreme Leader?" You grin.
Kylo gives you a small smile. "That's the idea. Stay."
"Yes, Supreme Leader."
The others loathed you. The Supreme Leader never used them anymore.
For the past few months, he had only ever been coming to you. A few visits here and there became a daily thing. You would fuck each other until he had to return to his duties. He would invite you back to his quarters—a place the others had never gone—and just hold you. You would bathe together, dine together, and sleep together. He would kiss you and whisper in your ear. You would pluck up the courage to say 'I love you,' but the words would never come. You were sure he already knew.
You were no longer one of them. You were no longer a play-thing.
You were-
"Mine." Kylo mutters.