He's not the most fucked up client she's seen, she thinks, as she waits for the transporter ship to arrive and take her back home, but that's not saying much when you're a intergalactic hooker.
The interview prior was weird, though. An endless line of slim girls of middling height and hair tied up tightly, interviewed by some tall ginger guy who looked like he was chewing a wasp.
"You'll be paid handsomely for your silence." he'd said, and shuddered as he passed over the holopad for her to sign a gagging order, making no secret of wiping it down with a disinfectant wipe afterwards. "I'll get someone to escort you down...I expect you to return to me for a full debriefing afterwards. You will tell me everything."
She'd nodded and he'd sneered and then she'd been following a silent stormtrooper along an endless warren of corridors. The mandatory search before she entered his quarters was fun, though. She didn't think stormtroopers could blush and yet...
Then she'd been with him. The infamous Kylo Ren, destroyer of planets, killer of millions.
He's not half as terrifying naked.
Slim, toned. But riddled with little scars and burns, the most significant of which bisected his face, still healing. After getting tied down and slapped a little, all whilst calling her name not her own. Wants a hand around his neck. All pretty standard, run of the mill stuff. She could do all that in her sleep.
The only surprising thing was that he asked her to fuck him rather than the other way around, but he's attractive enough. Killer or not, it's no hardship. She's not in this job because she has high morals. He gives her good enough head before and wants it on his back, to be held close during. He doesn't even want jerking off, and comes from the friction of her stomach against him and the thick, slightly curved pressure of her strap on within him.
She lights a cigarette and squints at the horizon. Her ship is late and she'd like to get home and shower, seen as he'd cast her out without one.
The only bad thing about it all was how he'd wanted holding for ages afterwards. Clinging and crying and apologising as she'd awkwardly pet his hair and told him he was forgiven. She thinks that was what he wanted, anyway. Whomever "Rey" is, he must have crossed her pretty badly. Maybe she's his ex.
The ginger from earlier is peering at her through the window again, scowling. This is just awkward. She rolls her eyes stubs her cig out on the pristine seat beside her. Her ride can't come soon enough.
Re: Kylo Ren/Rey - he hires a prostitute that looks like her [MINI FILL]
The interview prior was weird, though. An endless line of slim girls of middling height and hair tied up tightly, interviewed by some tall ginger guy who looked like he was chewing a wasp.
"You'll be paid handsomely for your silence." he'd said, and shuddered as he passed over the holopad for her to sign a gagging order, making no secret of wiping it down with a disinfectant wipe afterwards. "I'll get someone to escort you down...I expect you to return to me for a full debriefing afterwards. You will tell me everything."
She'd nodded and he'd sneered and then she'd been following a silent stormtrooper along an endless warren of corridors. The mandatory search before she entered his quarters was fun, though. She didn't think stormtroopers could blush and yet...
Then she'd been with him. The infamous Kylo Ren, destroyer of planets, killer of millions.
He's not half as terrifying naked.
Slim, toned. But riddled with little scars and burns, the most significant of which bisected his face, still healing. After getting tied down and slapped a little, all whilst calling her name not her own. Wants a hand around his neck. All pretty standard, run of the mill stuff. She could do all that in her sleep.
The only surprising thing was that he asked her to fuck him rather than the other way around, but he's attractive enough. Killer or not, it's no hardship. She's not in this job because she has high morals. He gives her good enough head before and wants it on his back, to be held close during. He doesn't even want jerking off, and comes from the friction of her stomach against him and the thick, slightly curved pressure of her strap on within him.
She lights a cigarette and squints at the horizon. Her ship is late and she'd like to get home and shower, seen as he'd cast her out without one.
The only bad thing about it all was how he'd wanted holding for ages afterwards. Clinging and crying and apologising as she'd awkwardly pet his hair and told him he was forgiven. She thinks that was what he wanted, anyway. Whomever "Rey" is, he must have crossed her pretty badly. Maybe she's his ex.
The ginger from earlier is peering at her through the window again, scowling. This is just awkward. She rolls her eyes stubs her cig out on the pristine seat beside her. Her ride can't come soon enough.