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Jackie wrote you fucks a Gothic Regency AU Short
Premise: Clara, the heroine of Star Wars Gothic Regency AU, has been a guest/prisoner at Lord Brendol Hux II’s manor for some time. She has a thing for Hux’s servant, Ren. Lord Hux has noticed this and is making them fuck for the first time, in a dungeon, while he watches.
Trigger Warnings (if those are even a thing here) for: Non con and dub con and more than my usual level of Sappy Feelings
Here:
One hour ago I was in the guest room that has been laid out for me in Lord Hux’s manor. I was putting on a dress of black silk and velvet. I was preparing to go down to the parlor for an assembly at which my presence was requested. And I knew full well that it would be about me, and that it would not, as I’d known for days now, be a “So good to have you as my guest, Miss Clara, have you any needs that have not yet been attended to?” kind of meeting. I’d known as I walked through the manor gates that if I wanted to live, I should never, ever set foot inside this place.
But this, this…is not what I expected.
Ren whimpers above me. His hands are behind him on the floor, digging into the stonework of the dungeon. I think it is an attempt to keep himself from touching me. And I’m… I’m…
“That’s it, Clara,” Lord Hux’s voice praises me mockingly, "show him how much you care.”
Ren’s skin is cold and velvety between my lips, and with each dip of my mouth or lick of my tongue I can feel him grow even harder than he already is. I’m kneeling in front of him, my hands balancing me on either side of his thighs. He still wears an undone linen shirt, but I am naked. He makes small, pained noises as I continue to ministrate to him. I’m ashamed. Not of my nudity, or what I am doing, but of the fact that he has to see me this weakwilled. For the second time in my life, I’ve become someone’s plaything.
“That’s it, that’s it,” Hux encourages quietly. He is standing, or sitting, somewhere in this room. I can hear his amusement, but I can’t resist. Through his encouragement my tongue strokes become longer, slower, more intense. Ren gasps.
“Please, not like this,” he begs. “please, Clara,”
The only way I can reply is by continuing. It is an odd, but not completely unexpected discovery to find that each noise I elicit from the dark-haired servant excites me. Despite my every attempt to ignore it, I can feel myself getting impossibly warm. I want him to stop fighting this and touch me. I want him to give in as I have been forced to.
Without thinking, I moan onto his cock as I suck it. Immediately I tense, hoping it was not audible. Lord Hux, however, notices immediately.
"Oh, did you hear that, Ren?” he asks. I can hear the smirk on his face. "I didn’t make her do that. I think she’s enjoying you."
"No,” Ren says, but his words are breathless, filled with lust. “No, please,”
“Clara,” Lord Hux says my name as if he were a teacher calling on an unattentive pupil, “do you like my servant?”
I lift my head up just long enough to gasp for air and say "Oh, yes.” Even I can hear the change in my voice. It doesn’t sound scared, or hesitant. It sounds mewling, whorish, wanton.
“You’ve thought about doing this before now, haven’t you?” he asks.
“I…yes,” I admit.
“No, Clara,” Ren pleads. "No you haven’t. It’s a lie. He’s making you think that.”
“I have not that kind of influence over the young lady’s mind, as you well know” Hux says, and there is an amusement in the words. “Clara, show Ren how much you want him. Make him enjoy himself. I so rarely allow him to enjoy himself, after all.“
I don’t need to be told twice. My efforts are doubled. My mouth and the insides of my thighs are both dripping wet with desire for this man, with a need for him. I kiss and lick and suckle at each tender spot along his length, smiling with delight whenever he moans. I’m sorry, Ren. I know you don’t want this. I’m sorry.
"Look at that, my boy, I think the girl likes you."
"You’re making her,” Ren insists.
“No, I’m not.”
No, he isn’t.
Either he has no points left to argue or he’s beginning to enjoy what I’m doing, because Ren slowly becomes quiet. No longer begging me to stop, the only noises he makes are soft, pleasured moans whenever I find somewhere sensitive. I feel a cold hand rest on the back of my head as gently, almost sweetly, he begins guiding my strokes. This is more encouraging than anything that the man who holds us captive could have said, and I respond with vigor. I can’t tell him what I’m really thinking. Even if I could, he would hate hearing it, because the truth is that I want this. That I have wanted this.
Our motions grow sweeter, more mutual, until I realize with a happiness that should really not be justifiable in this kind of situation that we’re both enjoying each other. Lord Hux surely realizes this at the same time, for the moment that we begin to feel comfortable, he rises from his seat and taps my shoulder.
“I grow bored with this. Clara, on your back."
I open my eyes and find that they’ve adjusted to the darkness of the dungeons. I pull myself up, off of Ren. He stares down at me as I lean back, lowering myself onto my elbows. He looks scared. Why does he look so scared?
"Spread yourself for my servant, Clara.” I do as he says, feeling absolutely vulnerable as I expose myself to the man kneeling before me. One look into his eyes and I can see how much, in this moment when he knows what is about to happen, he hates himself.
He pushes my legs wider apart as he brings his hips to rest between them. One hand, then the other press into the floor, framing my shoulders. As his chest covers mine I realize that he is breathing fast and erratic.
“Clara, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” he begs.
“No, no, please don’t be. Please,” I lift a hand up and tenderly brush it through his hair. “Please, don’t think about that.”
He shuts his eyes and, despite himself, groans at the same moment that he pushes into me.
I doubt he expected me to be as wet and willing as I am, because his eyes go wide and he moans openly as we join. I cry out, as scared as I am thrilled. My hips buck up against him, even though he is big enough that to have him filling me already hurts. Hux is speaking to us, mocking us both, I block him out. As best as I can, I block out everything that is not Ren gently, firmly rocking into me.
Over the course of the next few hours, Hux exerts his authority over Ren— and Ren, in turn, exerts his dominance over my mind. I am made to feel love for him, to feel fear at his touch, he makes me promise him that I care, and he makes me beat at his chest as I beg him to stop violating me. Ren is made to treat me tenderly, to use me, to disdain me, to love me.
He is commanded to dominate me of his own accord, without direction, and for a time my mind is guided by his as I plead wantonly for any number of actions that he happily administers. My own blood dries in dark lines that run down my neck, shoulder, thigh, hip. Each time he breaks the skin I twitch in fear, then relax into a deep, dark sensation of falling.
“I love you,” I whisper in his ear in a moment when his body is pressed close to mine.
“Clara,” he sounds hopeful, “do you really mean that?”
“Yes,” I promise. And, as far as my own mind can tell me, I do.
He looks into my eyes and smiles before burying his head against my shoulder, moving, pushing, pulling me all the time. “I swear I’ll get you out of here,” he says.
Lord Hux strides over to us with a sudden quickness. Ren doesn’t cry out as his master grabs the back of his hair and roughly pulls him up by it. His weight lifts from me. He makes no sound as Hux calmly throws him across the floor. He hits a stone wall behind his master and goes limp.
“I think that’s enough for now,” Hux says, staring at me.
Ren is watching, but helpless to act. Thick, black blood streams over his face.
“Don’t worry,” Lord Hux says, “I’ll make sure you two…friends…see more of each other. But for now,” he leans down over my naked form and reaches a hand toward my forehead. From the pocket of his waistcoat, the other hand produces a damp handkerchief. It reeks of chemicals. “I think it’s time you slept, Clara.”
“No, please, please don’t, please don’t.” As the cloth covers my nose, as Lord Hux’s palm cover’s my sight of Ren bleeding in the corner, the last thing I feel before I am forced to sleep is terror.
Fuck all ya'll
Feb 9th, 2016