Chain of Command
Subject: A man in power. A woman who likes it.
PWP with a narrative twist!
Author's notes: Well, this is definitely off the beaten path as far as PWPs go...in the way its written, and also the person involved.
To be honest, I've never actually written a PWP and since my heart as a storyteller is in the narrative sense and always will be,
I'm afraid it's a bit wordy...but perhaps that will draw you gals in on the object of my lust in this piece: Grand Moff Tarkin! Hey
wait! Don't run away screaming! Go ahead and call me weird for cranking out this little tale of getting down and dirty with a
SW character who has no redeeming qualities whatsoever! This little idea has been brewing for awhile, and now I'm just actually
getting it down. I think it's a reaction to my next "Episode"
story being heavy on the action and light on the smut (at the beginning anyway.) So, try this on for size...and lemme
know if you want some more! Alright, without further ado...
===============================================
Chain of Command Part 1
I could feel the pit of my stomach knotting into anticipation as I walked
down the corridor to where the meeting was about to convene. I wasn't needed
there; I knew I wasn't needed and wondered if it were so obvious to any
of the other officers that a human transcriber was less than necessary
when there was thousands upon thousands of droids and recording devices
available on a place like the Death Star.
The Death Star.
I was finally here. After months of burning desire, here I was, stationed
at least temporarily and walking within its powerful walls. The door to
the conference room slid open, and I squared my shoulders as I tried to
retain my composure.
Grand Moff Tarkin was the first to speak. All eyes fell squarely on
him as he paced the room slowly, and I tried to keep up with my transcribing
while fighting down my building thirst.
I watched him with rapt fascination. The power that emanated from this
man, this man who was surely more than twice my age was enough to make
me drunk with lust. His presence was demanding, arrogant, so overly confident
that I wanted to touch it, to touch him. He was tall, almost as toweringly
tall as Vader, and he walked with more purpose than anyone I'd ever seen.
I kept looking at his hands. He had thick, long fingers. And I always knew
what fingers like that on a man meant...
My tongue slipped out of my mouth involuntarily as I stared down at
his hands. I slid it along my teeth and my mind gave way to the unabashed
lust that I felt. I thought I heard my name being called but I was too
absorbed in the ideas in my mind's eye to notice.
"Officer Drayson!" he shouted, making me curl up inside with fear and
irrational lust. "Answer my question!" I opened my mouth to answer but
found my breath stole away as I moved my lips. Had he asked me something?
Apparently, I didn't hear.
"Officer!" he shouted again, advancing and standing very close to me.
I looked directly into his chest, not daring to raise my eyes to meet his.
"Yes sir," I managed to squeak out, hoping it didn't sound as pathetic
as I was afraid it did. I cleared my throat. "My apologies, sir!" There,
I thought. That was a little better.
"I will have a word with you," he growled, still not moving away, standing
so close to me that I could feel the warmth from his body next to mine.
I could catch the lingering aroma of herby soap on his skin and the crisp
smell of starched fabric from his uniform, and it was a sweet and powerful
nectar to my senses. "In my briefing room. Now!"
Silence hung heavily in the air. This could not be good, and it was
obvious that all around feared for this stupid young woman who dared let
her mind drift in the presence of Governor Tarkin. And now, to be commanded
to go in his briefing room alone...who knew what my fate may be? Did I
actually see sympathy in their eyes as I walked past them and toward the
corridor? It was obvious at least some of them thought I'd just written
my own death sentence.
The door slid shut with a solid lock behind me as I entered the briefing
room. I stood at attention, my hands clasped at my back, waiting to see
what would happen. Again, I caught the scent of his essence, and it disconcerted
me to the point of barely being able to stand still. His boots clunked
thickly against the floor as he walked a tight circle around me, and I
continued to stare ahead, holding my breath as he came around to face me
again. Once more, I found my face right against his chest, his looming
height intimidating and outrageously arousing. He just stood there for
a moment and I watched the rise and fall of his uniform decorations as
he breathed down on me. Sweet breath. Herby skin. Crisp, clean uniform
fabric. I was dizzy.
"Who do you think you are?" he demanded.
"Sir?"
"Who do you think you are, officer? To stand before me and all my command,
issuing such a lascivious look for all to behold?"
He'd noticed. He was standing there, so close to me now, to taut me
further. It was delicious.
"People have died for less an offense than what you just did."
"I know."
"So how do you feel now?"
"Very tingly, sir."
"Tingly?!" he loomed above me further, his head now hovering above mine
.I raised my eyes and met his, suddenly finding my wit and my will and
one corner of my mouth crooked into a sly smile.
"Yes, tingly," I repeated and in a swift motion I unclasped my hands
and reached between his legs, grasping his package in my palm, satisfied
to find that he was already semi-erect. He gasped unceremoniously, and
his entire body stiffened, but he did not move away. Never losing the lock
of my stare, he began to unbutton the collar of my uniform, and slowly,
firmly, I massaged his growing member in my hand, through his trousers.
The cold air of the room brought my skin to a chill and as he pushed the
top half of my uniform to the floor and began to undo the slacks, I could
feel the chill of goosebumps all over me. His hands were so large they
were having trouble with the fasten of my pants, and I reached up with
my free hand and pulled at his belt.
"I made special accommodations to get you transferred here," he said
in that clipped accent that made me crazy, "It's obvious that you aren't
needed for the job you've been sent to do." He finally released the fasten
on my uniform's pants and I had made history of his belt.
"You must need me for something then," I countered, thrilling to feel
the warmth of his skin as I reached beneath his coat and uniform shirt.
"It should have been more convenient to just have you here rather than
put through false excuses for a particular officer to be sent here for
a particular job."
It was an amazing rush to see him bend down and unbuckle my boots, easing
the slacks over my ankles once they were discarded. It was a rush to see
this man of undeniable power at my feet, and he knew how bad he teased
me as he slowly made his way up my body, letting his breath run hot along
my legs as he did.
"But," he said, grasping his hand around my arm roughly and pulling
me against him, "with you not even able to compose yourself during a simple
meeting, I'm afraid you will have to be disciplined. I'll not have anyone
suspicious of the reasons why I bring you here."
"What are you going to do to me?" I asked, my voice hushed, "what is
my fate, Governor, for so openly lusting for your touch? For your flesh
against my flesh? For you hands upon my body? What fate awaits me?"
His hand slipped down over my bare stomach and toyed at the edge of
my underwear, teasing rather than actually making a motion to remove them.
I arched wantonly into his palm and again reached between his legs with
one hand and slid his trousers off his hips with the other.
"Punishment," he growled darkly, with that voice again, the voice that
caused spasms between my thighs. His mouth brushed close to my cheek and
I felt the words on his lips as he spoke them, "Divine, sublime punishment."
At the tail end of his last syllable I caught his mouth with my lips and
hungrily sucked him into a kiss...
Author's quick note: I forgot the disclaimer in Part 1, and I'd better
add it here cos of what I'm about to do to one of GL's characters! <eg>
"Don't own him, wish I did but then he'd never have any time to defeat
the Rebellion 'cos he'd be too busy with stuff like what follows here.
No money being made because hey...that would make me practicing the oldest
profession, right?" lol
=========================================================
Chain of Command Part 2
His mouth was hard, hard like a man's mouth, the pressure behind it
demanding and unyielding, no emotion, no weakness. My own lips felt springy
and supple against his, the firmness of his hard kissing such a contrast
to the softness of the female that I am. I had to crane my neck up to reach
his touch, and the effort that it took him to bend his head down to meet
me was another simple, yet intoxicating evidence that he desired me.
My tongue snaked out of my mouth and into his at the same moment that
his finger slipped beneath the band of my panties, which were already damp
from merely the sight of him, and even more so from the touch of him. I
moaned into his kiss, pushing frantically with my free hand to rid him
of his remaining uniform, the thick fabric of which was scratching roughly
through my bra and teasing my nipples to agonizingly sweet hardness.
His fingers slid slowly and with torturous skill along the swollen slickness
between my legs, just barely playing over the hardened nub of nerves at
the fore, making me whimper weakly with unbidden want. I pulled the band
of his briefs away and over his hips, breaking from our kiss so that I
may look upon his thick erection which had been rubbing up far against
my wrist as I caressed it. His size always took me by surprise; his incredible
length, and impressive girth. I took a moment to drink in the site of him,
nude before me. When in uniform, he appeared quite lanky and almost gaunt.
But beneath the betrayal of clothing, his body was strong and lithe; all
toned muscle and tight skin, sinewy and limber, nearly hairless but for
a fine trail that led from his youthfully taut stomach down to his beautifully
shaped cock. It stood tall, like the rest of him, jutting out proudly from
a fine nest of greying curls, the only evidence of his age aside from his
face.
More than anything, I wanted that cock in my mouth. The deepening exploration
of his fingers inside me heightened this desire, and I began kissing across
his chest, bending my head as I intended to travel down to the floor. Suddenly
he withdrew his fingers and I moaned in protest, and he lifted my shoulders
to keep me from dropping to my knees.
"No," came his voice, harsh and powerful. He unclasped my bra, the last
article of clothing that I was wearing, and my breasts fell free and open,
the nipples seeming to reach toward him as I arched my back to offer myself.
"Mmm..." came a sound from his throat; he had always been partial to breasts,
and his head bent down for a moment to pay oral homage to each nipple,
swirling his tongue around each one briefly before he pulled me full against
him and lifted me to lock with his body, again resuming the kiss.
Feeling his cock sandwiched against my stomach, feeling the sleek muscle
and warm flesh of his body pressed against mine was maddening; I curled
my hips into him, but he had something else in mind, and I found myself
deposited on the cold lacquered top of a huge conference table. I hooked
my foot around his back, hoping to pull him into me, but he pulled away,
then moved up my body, pushing me so I would flatten on the tabletop. The
surface was cold against my back, and again, chill fleeted over my skin
as he lay atop me, biting and sucking against my neck, his fingers playing
about my breasts and stomach, moving slowly down further. I caught his
cock in my hand for a brief moment before he moved out of reach, caressed
its tight underside, ran my fingers along the loaded pendulum of his testicles,
and a hiss escaped his lips, the exhale blowing warm across my belly. The
swollen mushroom head of his cock was slick with his secretions, and I
swirled it between my thumb and forefinger before he moved away, moving
down my body and between my legs.
Tarkin stood on the floor again, bending his head to run his tongue
up the inside of my thigh, slowly inching its way to meet the juncture
of my legs. Once there, he planted several slow and sucking kisses against
the perfect triangle of curls that I always kept trimmed neatly for him,
respecting what a perfectionist he was in all matters of his life. I had
no modesty at this point; I curled my hips up against his mouth, enjoying
the wet pressure of his lips and teeth, the prodding nudge of his nose
against my mound as he lapped his tongue slowly along my achingly swollen
folds. He moaned, satisfied and satiated himself, burying his face firmly
against me, inhaling my scent, caressing me with those huge hands that
covered my hips, moving me to his liking.
"Love this," he muttered gutturally, his tongue laving all the way up
to the curls, biting and sucking, making me insane. "The brush of hair
on my lip is tantalizing dear Kella…" It was the first time he'd used my
name that day and I almost climaxed just hearing it on his voice. I opened
my eyes long enough to see a satisfied and knowing look issued from his
face, and writhed like a starved animal beneath his touch.
"You wanton little beast," he whispered, "Have you no shame?" With those
words, I felt his fingers yet again, crooking against me inside, as his
tongue played inside my folds like an instrument of torture. I reached
to pull at his hair, at his shoulders, whatever I could grasp, and surprisingly,
he accommodated me, pulling away from his feast upon my mound and slinking
like a panther up my body to kiss my lips again.
He tasted like salt and musk. I licked his lips, celebrating unabashedly
in the mingling taste of myself with his saliva. His stone grey eyes were
darkened from the lust I knew he felt, and I was thrilled to know that
reaction was over me. Grasping his hardness in my hand, I twisted out from
under him, turning away and swallowing his erection fully the second it
came to my lips. My hair had fallen loose of its restraint from all my
writhing, and now spilled across his stomach in shiny ribbons of black
silk. He wrapped it around his fist, pulling my head in rhythm as he did.
"Never cut your hair," he commanded. I hummed a response, vibrating
my lips against his chokingly large cock, eliciting a deep groan from him.
Though I knew his control was well mastered, I also knew he couldn't last
long, not from the reaction I was getting so soon and the seeping fluids
that were creeping onto my tongue. I ran my finger along the path behind
his tight sac, sliding in time with the rhythm of my mouth. I didn't care
if he came right then, the control I had over him was so heady and so delicious.
Of course, he would only allow that for so long.
As I tightened the pressure on his shaft and quickened my pace, sucking
hard on the engorged tip on each stroke, he began to pull me away, pull
my head by my hair, breaking my tempo. I moaned in protest, almost as aroused
by sucking him as I was when he was sucking me. But of course, he had other
plans for how he wished to climax, and I was only at the will of his whims,
as
were all of his officers under his command...
Chain of Command Part 3
"Come here," he said forcefully, "I want to see you." I slid up the
length of his torso, threw my legs on either side of him, bending back
and poising myself over his slick cock, which bobbed up in reaction to
the heat of my wetness above him. Looking down on him from my position,
it felt as if I were in ultimate control of the situation.
I was so very wrong about that thought.
He grabbed both my wrists in one of his hands and with the other, reached
down between our bodies and began teasing me again with his fingers. His
hand was quickly made slick with my juices, as I moaned and pressed against
the probing sweetness of his fingers, and desperately wished that he would
fill me with his shaft. I bucked gently atop him, pulling my captured wrists
to my face, kissing and sucking the hand that held them, running my tongue
along his skin, performing for all the world as though it was his cock.
With slippery fingers below, he began to move the head of his engorged
member against my folds, and each time he came close to my entrance I tried
to bear down and sheath him inside me, but he was too skilled and I was
too clumsy in my fit of lust. Instead, I felt the swollen, slippery head
of his cock sliding deeply against my aching nether lips and my eyes opened
drowsily to see his face, controlled and in complete command of me, even
though he lay beneath.
Finally he released my wrists and grabbed my hips between his palms,
positioning me above his stiffness, moving my body to a perfect target.
With a long, drawn out thrust, he plunged upward, impaling me on his shaft,
slowly, mercilessly, burrowing so deep that shards of pain streaked through
my readied heat. It was exquisite, however, the pain. And I found myself,
on his third thrust, screaming in abandon as my body took over my reflexes,
and my muscles convulsed uncontrollably as my climax seared through me.
Coming down slightly, I looked down to Tarkin's face, to the sleek skin
of his chest, and I grasped his face in my hand. He took one of my fingers
into his mouth and sucked it, still thrusting up slowly inside of me, already
bringing me back from my spiral and into the fray for another round of
pleasure. He watched me for a few moments, watched my body move against
him, looked down as he sucked my finger to see his cock thrusting in and
out, the raising and lowering of myself around him.
All at once, he pulled me down, pressed my face against his and kissed
me with more force than he ever had before, biting against my lip, my cheek,
my neck. His reserve had finally met its end, and with a burst of strength
he flipped me beneath him and began his thrusting anew. This time it was
fevered, fast and violent, and I groaned an obscene response to his hunger.
He looked down on me, his gaze hard and commanding, and I wrapped my
legs around his back. He grabbed my ankle, pulling me into a position only
a contortionist should be able to master, hooking my ankle around his shoulder
and thereby thrusting even deeper inside. My body was bent in two, I could
barely breathe from the folded press of my middle, combined with his riot
of his feverish thrusting. Still, the submissiveness of it thrilled me,
and I felt myself on the edge again, his cock spearing hotly inside of
me, his hips losing their measured control, spasming and plunging, and
then, with a groan so primal and so uncivilized, he thrust deep and stilled
inside me, the gasp of ecstasy catching in his throat in a ragged "ohhh….ahhhh…"
the sound of which trigged another blinding orgasm to rip through me. As
he released himself within, my contracting muscles milked from him all
there was to have, and the throb of my pulse swelled deafeningly in my
head.
He lay against me for several moments, breathing heavily and just coming
down from the decadent pleasure of our intimacy. I held the back of his
head in my hands, taking advantage of his momentary passiveness, and moved
my mouth to kiss him deeply again, the languid slowness of our lips sweet
and seductive. It was a memory I was planting, something a woman like me
always knows to do with a man like Tarkin. He had his position, he had
his troops and his power, he even had Lord Vader at his hand, but he always
came back to me for something none of them could offer.
A chime sounded and the voice of a lieutenant I could not identify came
over his com channel.
"Governor... our star destroyer has captured the rebel ship and will
be docking in ten minutes. What orders?" Tarkin raised himself up on his
elbows and directed his voice toward the open channel.
"Have Lord Vader personally inspect the ship. I'm almost through here
with the matter concerning officer Kella Drayson. She is to be transferred
immediately back to Coruscant. I'll expect transport readied for her departure
within the hour."
"Right away sir," came the voice and the channel closed. Tarkin slid
off of me and from the table and gathered his uniform as he walked to the
'fresher that was off the room. I peeled myself from the tabletop, and
dressed quickly, feeling deliciously and conspicuously used. I wondered
if the rest of the crew would be able to recognize the scent of sex that
must be in the room, and on my person. But in all truth, I didn't really
care. Who would be fool enough to venture forth with such an accusation
even if they did?
Tarkin emerged from the 'fresher in a few moments, his uniform back
flawlessly in place, his hair combed perfectly against his head, looking
none the worse for wear. I approached him with a suggestive sway in my
hips as I walked, fueled by the sublime knowledge that I was filled up
with him, that I had just seen him how his command would never see him.
"Transferred so soon?" I asked, my voice the call of an innocent vixen.
"Are you sure you can't belay that order?"
"Absolutely not," he said, all stiff regulation and control again. "I
told you that you would be punished for your actions. I demand unmitigated
respect when on command."
"An officer while on duty and a whore in the bedroom," I mused smugly,
approaching him. "And occasionally the briefing room. I think I can manage
that. How long do I have to practice?"
"I can have you reinstated without suspicion in two weeks I should think,"
he said, his cold eyes looking down on me as I stood in front of him.
"Two weeks," I replied, "that's not too horrible a wait, I suppose."
I reached to kiss his lips again, and he bent into my touch, though his
hands remained clasped behind his back. When I pulled away, I reached to
run my hands down the side of his uniform, thinking of the body that lay
beneath. "I'd sure like to see what's on that rebel ship though. Are you
sure I can't stick around for another day? I promise I'll be on my most
professional behavior."
"No." His voice was as cold as his eyes. I still managed to smile a
devious smile at him.
"Very well," I said, patting my hair in it's restraint again, and straightening
my clothes. "I shall eagerly await your summoning in two weeks, Governor
Tarkin. Is there anything special you'd like to request of me upon my return?"
We walked toward the exit, his gait the same as ever, commanding, arrogant.
"Yes officer Drayson," he replied as we reached the door, "when you
return in two weeks I'll expect you to have no undergarments beneath your
uniform."
The door slid open and I had to hide my shock behind a face of a chastised
officer, which was no easy feat for a woman like me.
.~fin~.
