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~.