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Timni makes a mistake.
A moment of weakness, perhaps—forgetfulness or distraction.
More likely, she was complacent; rationally, Timni knows that the Empress is not innocent. Certainly, in the reality of lives beyond her palace walls and briefings, lives like Timni’s, but not like this.
But equally, the Empress is to her as, well, The Empress is to an urchin: so utterly, incomprehensibly removed that they may as well be of a different species.
Perhaps this is the reason for why, returning from haggling in the trade hall of another port, Timni finds the Empress looming in the shadows on the bridge.
“Effulgence?” Timni says tiredly, easing herself into the pilot’s seat.
The Empress’ face has an expression on it that she can’t quite place, and that alone has her suppressing the urge to chew her nails.
“What is this?”
“Y-Your Effulgence, I—”
Timni gapes openly at the well-worn copy of ‘Spacer Lezzie Smut Vol. 134’ that is placed gingerly—for the Empress—on the table. Blood turns to burning ice in her veins, and she bites down hard on the inside of her cheek in a vain attempt to steady her complexion.
“E-Effulgence, I don’t know—”
Why, oh why had she been so careless? Sitting aboard the ship just after arrival, after the Empress had strode off to enact whatever terrible justice she deems fit upon this small port, she had thought herself safe. If not for long, for at least a handful of hours, far more time than she needed to manage her body’s urges.
She hadn’t expected the Empress to go through the stack of magazines on the floor by the bunk, but she clearly had no qualms with looking at the topmost issue, because of course she would.
Timni takes a deep breath, curling her fingernails into her palms to steady her voice. Unable to fully disguise the resigned exhaustion.
“What do you wish to know about it?”
Four ports later, well after Timni has stopped carefully skulking around her own ship in avoidance of any more questions, the Empress comes back to the ship in a terrible mood.
Her sleek black boots ring conspicuously loud against the metal floors as she storms off to the bowels of the ship, and Timni quickly finds that she forgot to get some form or other stamped by the harbourmaster.
She returns to the ship cautiously, a few hours later, and learns while waiting for noodles to soften that an audible tread was but a temporary symptom.
The Empress pays her startled thrashing little heed as she is roughly pushed and pinned into a chair. Her yelp of terror is likewise efficiently suppressed with a painfully firm grip on her jaw and a thumb shoved in her mouth.
“I found this today.” The Empress’ tone is mild, innocently curious if it weren’t for the force with which Timni is being held. Her eyes, however, remain laser-focused on Timni.
Forcing down her terror, Timni tries—she really tries—to look at the object that has just been thrust in her face.
“U-Uhggk!”
Her attempt at a response, pitiful as it already is with her tongue held down, is cut off by the thumb sliding deeper in her mouth. It stops just beyond the point where her gag reflex tries to expel it, and she breathes heavy, panicked gasps around the intrusion.
The Empress makes no attempt to further the conversation, instead pointedly shaking open the porn rag to a pre-selected page.
Timni squints through the tears filling her eyes to read the title printed in bold letters sitting atop a block of text, with a figure printed in greyscale opposite. When she looks back up at the Empress, white as a sheet, her eyes are wider than they have ever been. She doesn’t dare even to mouth the fateful words ‘Empress x Reader’.
She finds no mercy in the face staring impassively down at her. Rather, she finds her trembling knees knocked apart and Her Effulgence’s polished boot brought to rest between them, toe sliding forward until it meets the rough fabric of her trousers.
Timni gasps and presses herself desperately back in the chair. The boot follows closely, keeping a consistent, firm pressure against her.
“I see that some have no reverence for the supposed deceased,” the Empress says, voice still as mild as ever, and a choked whimper is ripped from Timni’s throat faster than she can swallow it down.
The Empress turns the pages towards herself and stills, statue-like and immovable if Timni ever dared try. “…I suppose I can concede to your tastes,” she says finally. Timni finally sees the front cover swim into view and gags, the Empress withdrawing her thumb just as she starts to taste bile.
Timni shudders, breath coming in heaving pants no longer hampered by a metal digit. The Empress finally steps back, allowing her to sag against the single hand still pinning her down. Spit-slicked thumb pressing a wet spot into the fabric on her chest.
The Empress stares motionlessly down at her for what feels like hours to Timni’s racing mind, yet she can no sooner will herself to move than she can survive the vacuum of space.
At last, the Empress deigns to free her from the torment of suspense.
Her Effulgence is not gentle.
Timni’s trousers are roughly tugged open, jazz mag discarded without another glance.
The Empress reaches under her poncho, smoothly liberating something stored by her hip.
Timni closes her eyes. At least she can be relieved to know it will all be over soon. Instead of the deafening flash, followed by the sweet embrace of oblivion, Timni hears a mechanical buzz.
From under her poncho, the Empress has drawn a baby pink, cordless ‘personal massager’, as they are often sold.
“Wha— ohfuckohfuckohfuck!”
The Empress strikes faster than Timni can follow, pressing the business end of the wand directly to her crotch.
“E-E-Effulgence, please!” Timni wails, gasping at the overwhelming wall of sensation. She flails uselessly, instinctively limited by the bone-deep fear of striking The Empress, no matter what Her Effulgence has made her will.
The first comes quickly, and the second follows soon after, torn from her by the unrelenting cruelty of mechanical endurance. The Empress does not stop.
Sore and shaking she begs, for what she couldn’t say, pushed mercilessly towards the peak of a third orgasm. She rides the pain of overstimulation, sobbing, over the edge, and still the Empress does not stop.
By the time the fourth orgasm tears through her, Timni is thrashing and screaming herself hoarse; no longer even able to control where her limbs go. In the back of her fevered mind, she prays that Her Effulgence will not begrudge her for it.
The vibration shuts off abruptly, leaving Timni twitching and hiccoughing out broken sobs. The Empress stares down at her impassively while she recovers. When she finds the strength to raise her head once more, glassy eyes staring numbly up at her monarch, Timni finds herself pulled upright, dangling from the Empress’ firm grip on her arm as she stumbles her feet back under her.
The Empress says nothing, still, as Timni is brusquely marched to the head and pushed inside. She obeys the implicit order to clean herself up, feeling exhausted and horridly wretched.
It takes her some time to slowly strip off her clothes, wipe herself down with a damp cloth, and tug them back on again, cold and sodden and uncomfortable after attempting to clean them as best she can. She can’t afford to have her clothes ruined, she thinks bitterly, but clamps down on the train of thought before it can go any further.
Stumbling back out she finds a pack of ramen, cooked, steaming in a bowl that she nearly walks into. There is no sign of the Empress, nor does Timni care to seek her out, so she sits down heavily against the wall and forces herself to eat, slurping down the hot broth, salty enough that any tears that add themselves to the bowl go unnoticed.
She considers bringing the bowl back to the galley, but quickly thinks better of it and takes it with her to her bunk and puts herself to sleep.