((Morgan! Thank you so much for the review, I always look forward to hearing from you! As for Kylo Ren, I'm not sure yet. I'm still trying to find ways of wiggling him in without throwing the story off kilter BUT I think I may have something so watch this space!))

The General restrained the urge to reach out and touch her. One hand was busy and the other gripped the arm of the chair as if it was the only thing keeping him from going into a complete frenzy. She wasn't even fully naked. Then again, neither was he. Not even partially. Lucilla stood barely five feet away, topless with her hands by her sides and just out of his reach. He wanted to touch and she would come to him in an instant if he called her but he kept himself in check for his own pleasure.

Hux's breath stammered in his throat as his eyes roamed the pale expanse of her chest and stomach, lingering of course on her breasts. The only thing saving her from being completely disrobed were the two long strips of black fabric; one at the back and one at the front on a tight silver hoop closed tight around her waist, covering the essentials. She regarded her master with a tempting curiosity (feigned just for him) and watched as he panted and fought to control the urge to summon her; the hand in his trousers still throttling himself with vigour. She was not permitted to touch herself, only to watch him do so.

His companion's attire (or lack of it) was drunk in; she was technically a slave, why shouldn't she dress like one? She didn't object to it (obviously); she looked like she was enjoying the view before her if anything. His routine glass of whiskey sat untouched on the table and his holopad gathered dust, not having been used for days. Why would he when he had a far more pleasing form of entertainment that would do exactly as she was told?

He couldn't deny himself anymore; he needed the extra touch, her touch.

"Come here." It was choked and just as he relinquished himself, she was on her knees in front of the armchair, her whole body fitting in between his legs. "No." Her hair was grabbed and her head pulled back; he didn't want her mouth. Not yet. A quiet gasp left the female as she felt the tightening against the roots of her hair follicles and it was then clear what he wanted. Instead, both pale hands resumed where he'd left off. The General loosened his grip on Lucilla's hair but didn't release it; he needed something to hold on to.

With his body relaxed back in the chair and those silky curls rubbing gently in between his bare fingers, Hux's eyes closed at the same action he had given himself but a very different sensation. His own hand was strong, his older skin was calloused and worn from command and the way his gloves grated him from constant wear. Her skin, however, was almost the complete opposite. Her hands were smaller, softer and her satin skin less worked than his. Hers were a welcome change from his own. She continued to move using the power in her wrists to mimic his previous movements to the beautiful sound of her master's pleasured sighs. Lucilla would dare a glance up every now and then and could see purely from his face that she was fulfilling her task both correctly and with appeasement. That said; there was very little they hadn't engaged in by now.

The urgency for a more intense tactility slowly started to rise in the General. He was enjoying her hands but he wanted to cover more than that tonight. Since their arrival on Starkiller, his role had become more and more demanding and that had a ripple effect on his relationship with Lucilla. Not negatively but to put it delicately, he made her earn her place in the bed beside him. And, to her credit, he was yet to retire unsatisfied though he probably couldn't say the same for her.

"Now." He declared, fighting to keep his voice even but she wasn't fooled. She'd been watching him, she knew the effect she was having but getting cocky was out of the question. Upon his command; Lucilla's hands went to his thighs, her head was positioned and the hand in her hair tightened again at the initial lick then the engulfment of the warm moisture of her mouth. He ordered her pace. The grip in her hair (at the base of her skull) was used to guide both the direction of her movements and the speed of them.

His dictation was rough; he liked it that way, he also liked the way she fought to keep up and the way her moans were muffled by his shaft in her mouth. However, he couldn't claim to be silent throughout the encounter either. He was far from it. Disciplined and well trained as the General was; there was no First Order training for controlling oneself when a beautiful woman (ten years ones junior) explored one in such a sensual way.

"Lucilla….." The laboured breath made her look up but she didn't stop. Again, eye contact was never made. She tended to look just to the top of his sharp cheekbone while her own pinked cheeks were sucked in to accommodate him. He wanted to see her, to watch her with every stroke of her lips and every grace of her tongue over his shaft. A sight he more than enjoyed. Before Lucilla, it had been years since he'd been involved with this kind of activity but since he opened her, it was almost a nightly occurrence.

Hux held out for another few minutes until he harshly tugged her off him, followed by an unladylike string of saliva that still connected to his tip. His face was brought down close to hers so they were only mere millimetres apart; his eyes roved down, taking in the unsavoury string with almost sick delight.

"Where do you want it?" She knew what that question meant. He had started to ask it recently, almost as if to give her some bit of power (though not much) within their strange dynamic.

"Inside me, General." The smaller female answered longingly and without hesitation but the grip on her hair was maintained.

"Where inside you?" It didn't take much thought.

"Dripping out of my slut hole, General." Came the sweet, yearning whimper that he just couldn't deny. He loved that answer.

"Good girl. Lie down, knees bent." Without question, protest or hesitation, Lucilla pried herself out from between her master's legs and did just that.

The rug in front of the fire was usually their go to for this kind of behaviour and tonight was no different. Her bare back settled against the warm material with her legs open and knees bent as he'd directed. He was in between them once he'd taken the time to stand over her for a moment to appreciate what he was about to have. Another thing he had started to do. After all, she was something to behold, his Lucilla.

She had been commented upon after their arrival to Starkiller, he'd been asked about the dark haired creature he'd brought with him in the transport. Mere curiosity on his colleague's part, nothing sinister but still, it made pride and greed flare simultaneously. She knew better than to move the strip of fabric covering where he'd want to go; he'd relish doing that himself so she would leave it for him. She'd been correct. When he ripped it aside, he found all the pent up arousal she'd dutifully kept hidden as she tended to him.

The skin between her legs was coated with a light, sticky glazing that invited him in to the thrill waiting inside and he would accept with fervour. He didn't enter her yet; he simply pressed himself against her to get a reaction. Of course, he got it. That delicious biting of her lip, the very subtle increase in the way her chest moved and the way she looked down, pleading. All little things she did when she wanted it but couldn't voice it.

Hux decided to relieve her; she'd been well behaved tonight. His stiffness was well met with her wet heat and the mutual sounds of appreciation when he stopped to let it settle when he was fully sheathed was proof of how their companionship had developed. A few small, gentle strokes graced the female first but they both knew it wouldn't stay that way. His thrusts slowly but surely started to pick up as their joint lust started to deepen, one hand gripped her knee and the other just roamed with almost tenderness.

The closer he leaned in to the younger female, the more he could see of and admire the marks he had left a few nights previous though they were starting to fade now. He would have to replenish them but not that night. Her lot was set for that night and it didn't involve putting her through pain. While the General was free to touch Lucilla when and how he liked, that favour was not reciprocated. She had a place; a submissive, servile place and fond and all of her as he was, she would remember that place. She was not his wife, she was not his partner; she was his, a piece of property and she would be treated as such.

"What are you, Lucilla?" Her master huffed but determined through the effort of the now bruising thrusts into his companion.

"I'm a whore, General." She whispered in a desperate attempt to please.

"Whose whore are you?"

"I'm your whore, General."

He was close now, he could feel it. Brief and all as this was, it was simply for variety for Lucilla and to bring himself to completion. The soft whimpers from below drove him on, encouraging him to continue the harsh barrage of thrusts and savour the way her breasts would jerk against his chest with every crushing movement. He had never been gentle; not the first time, not the second time, there was no point in expecting it. Even when she was ruined from the night before, there was no slack cut. It was a matter of adaption.

"But who else's whore are you?"

"No one, General. I'm your whore. Only your whore…." Those little whimpers of devotion had become an addiction. Since the incident with Mitaka, he needed them. He had considered giving charge of Lucilla's meals and her clothes to someone else but decided against it. Hux knew Mitaka was meek and spineless. Whatever he felt for Lucilla, he would not act on it but the General could not be guaranteed someone else wouldn't.

And that though infuriated him beyond comprehension. He felt her internal grip, hugging him and coaxing him, telling him it was almost General's eyes shut hard as his heart pounded brutally in his chest and his lungs struggled to keep up with the animalistic swinging of his hips. When it became too much and he could no longer continue, he released it with an almost pained roar, close to wheezing in an attempt to regulate his breathing.

He didn't collapse onto her; the General might not have been as heavy as his rank would suggest but this female was fragile. One wouldn't think it with the merciless onslaughts she endured almost nightly but again, adaption was key for something like that. She took in the redness that had spread from his cheeks and up to his forehead, an indication that he had almost exerted himself too much. Leaning back, he removed himself from her and tucked his quickly softening member back into his trousers. Lucilla went to sit up but her master pushed her back down without a word.

Confused, the younger female complied and stayed where she was. He shuffled back not even a foot until he was even with femininity he had rushed so grievously only minutes before. Two fingers found their way in and delight swelled in his chest at the quiet, fluttering inhale they were greeted with. They were twisted and turned, almost as if he was looking for something, like twisting a key in a lock. Eventually he found it. When he withdrew and was once again face to face with Lucilla, his fingers were lifted to her mouth where she obediently and eagerly started to clean the white not-quite-liquid off his fingers.

"Good girl." He praised her again when his fingers were spotless. He repeated the action a few times until there was nothing left. She hadn't necessarily been clean about it either; she knew how he liked to see her mouth decorated. He eased himself off her but not before a light kiss was pressed to her forehead. "Get showered and follow me to bed."

"Yes, General."

They had been on Starkiller a week and already, things were starting to go downhill. He hadn't touched her in three days. The night following the slave outfit; he had come back later than usual, stripped off his coat and gloves himself then went straight to bed, leaving Lucilla standing there. Bewildered, she had settled on the rug until he called her from beyond the sliding door. He offered no explanation; it was as if he had called her then drifted off almost immediately with his back facing her. The next day, he didn't go to the command centre, he went to his office and stayed there. The next day, he stayed in the confines of his quarters though didn't allow himself rest. He ploughed through reports, checking various holopads and he was still at it. His eating habits were out of swing; his sleeping habits certainly weren't the same.

It didn't matter to Lucilla if he touched her or not. His wellbeing was her concern. The last few nights and days, he seemed to be driven by pure adrenaline while exhaustion haunted him in the background. It was visible in his face, in the way he walked, the way he sluggishly dressed himself in the morning to haul himself off to wherever he was going. She wished they were back on Finalizer; this had never happened there. Starkiller was draining him, crippling him, weakening him. But his devotion to the First Order won out. Fatigue be damned, this had to be done.

He had sent Lucilla to bed, assuring her he would be in soon; that was eleven o'clock. She woke and checked the clock beside her: 2am and no General. His companion sat up in bed and weighed up her options. If she went out there to coax him to bed, she would be overstepping a boundary. She couldn't tell her master what to do. Even if it was for his own good and wellbeing. She didn't know the goings on of Starkiller; she had no idea she was inside a weapon.

The younger female was completely in the dark as to what her General was doing or its importance but surely it wouldn't be taken well (by himself or others) if he burned himself out. She had to try. Lucilla pulled back the sheets and padded barefoot towards the sliding door and she found him instantly at the desk by the window. Pity crept into her chest as she watched him just weakly shaking his head over piles of paper and various holopads.

"General?" The sweet, gentle voice roused him but barely.

"Go back to bed."

"But…."

"I said go back to bed, Lucilla." His companion hesitated before taking a few steps towards him. Her heart sank as she took in the hollows under his eyes, the black starting to creep in as if he'd been assaulted.

"General, please…" From her new vantage point, she saw his jaw tense and nostrils flare.

"I won't tell you again, Lucilla. Go back to bed."

She couldn't do it. He was exhausted, striving beyond reserves of energy he just didn't have. Instead of obeying (and she had never disobeyed a command before), Lucilla decided her master was more important. Crossing the room to him, she realized she was taking a risk. Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder, his whole body tensing when she did.

"You haven't slept properly in days if you've even slept at all. You can't continue like this-" Before she could get out another word, her hand was grabbed and he was on his feet, towering over her with one side of his lip curved into a furious snarl. She was actually, purposely defying him.

"You're overstepping!" Came the savage growl. "I told you to go back to bed, why haven't you done it?!" Lucilla hadn't been afraid of her General for a long time. But it seemed that feeling was starting to uproot itself. "

You're exhausted!" She protested, almost on the verge of tears both from fear and passion. "You're going to burn yourself out!"

"THAT IS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU! I FUCK YOU. THAT IS YOUR FUNCTION. MY WELLBEING DOES NOT CONCERN YOU. YOU LIE ON YOUR BACK OR GET ON YOUR KNEES WHEN I TELL YOU. THAT SHOULD BE THE EXTENT OF YOUR CONCERN. YOU DO NOT DISOBEY ME." Lucilla let that wash over her, she knew what she was. It didn't change that she was in fact distressed by the situation.

" But…. I'm worried about you."

That was the wrong thing to say. Before she knew what had happened, Lucilla was on the ground with agony growing in her right cheek. He stood over her, chest heaving and his breathing loud with absolute rage. He didn't say or do anything, just watched while she tried to figure out what had just happened though he couldn't really see her with the way her hair had landed.

She had received the back of his right hand hard and fast against the side of her face with such force that if sent her tumbling to the ground. She lifted a shaking hand to her lip through her pained and distraught sniffles and when she removed it; the crimson was obvious against her milky skin. He could see that and some sort of vile righteousness stirred within him; she'd deserved it.

He could hear her restraining her tears, the rattling in her chest betrayed her and she probably knew it. In another bout of temper, Lucilla's hair was grabbed and pulled in such a way that he could see her face. Yes, her eyes were blood shot and her cheeks were stained. Her lip was swollen and bleeding while underneath her right eye an expanse of red was starting to spread where blood vessels had broken. It would probably develop into a nasty bruise over the next few days.

"You will NOT do that again." He tried to keep himself even but that exercise was rather pointless now, the damage was done.

"Yes, General." The answer was weak and heartbroken; as simpering as the day she arrived. Disgusted, he relinquished her hair and stepped over her crumpled form towards the sliding door.

"You're staying out here tonight."