In a dark room, lit only by an old-fashioned light-bulb in the ceiling, in an undisclosed location, Jaina Solo marched with perfect military precision back and forth across the room on one side of the light. She was adorned in a black crotchless dominatrix outfit (with not even so much as a thin white wet cloth to obscure her exposed groin) with matching knee-high boots while holding a riding crop in one hand.
She marched like a commanding officer thrice before stopping with a military-like stomp and turning to face the three figures on the other side of the darkened room, all of them obscured by the lack of light in that area.
"Here are the rules of this game." Jaina's tone matched the military nature of her stomp as she lightly tapped the "naughty" end of the riding crop in her free palm. "Each of you must stick your starfighters into the container that will show up in three, two, one..."
She trailed off as, on cue, the floor beneath the light opened up so that a pool of boiling hot water ascended from the floor beneath.
"Your starfighters must stay in there for about ten seconds, and not a single nanosecond fewer," Jaina continued. "A good dose of bacta should repair any tissue damage that you may gain from the water. But should you retract early, I will shove this riding crop so far up your ass you won't even get turned on even if your genitals didn't feel on fire. Is that clear?"
"Sir, yes, sir," the trio of male voices in the darkness responded obediently.
"Now," Jaina went on, "should you succeed in not lifting your genitals out of the water, you may use this riding crop to give me ten whacks on my own ass, each whack earned for every second you held your genitals in that heat. Depending on who gives me the best whacks, I will decide at my most objective, and that man will be able to... put his starfighter into whichever port he wishes, and in whatever way he wishes, too. Of course, that contest will be null and void should there remain only one of you to hold your starfighter in the water long enough.
"Should all of you fail, though, I will not only shove this crop so far up your asses, but I will also give you ten deep cuts across your bodies. They will not be fatal, and I will make sure that they will not be fatal, but when you receive those scars, which cannot be stopped by any safe-word, as has been agreed upon by all of you, those scars basically mean that none of your starfighters will be allowed to enter any of my ports. So you better hope that at least one of you manages to hold your X-wing in that water. Is that clear?"
"Sir, yes, sir," the trio repeated.
Without anymore ceremony, Jaina swiftly lifted her free hand up and pointed at the figure on her left; no words were necessary as Jedi Master Kyp Durron, an esteemed member of Luke Skywalker's Jedi Council in the wake of the Yuuzhan Vong War, stepped forward, completely naked and with his penis and testicles painted like an X-wing.
Kyp's nervous, trembling gait matched the sweat across his body – which only had to do with what the water was going to do to his genitals instead of the heat already emanating from it – and the fearful expression that he gave to Jaina. Her returning expression, however, was one that completely lacked mercy, and it was one that, unfortunately, made Kyp think of Admiral Daala back in the Maw.
"I will give you ten seconds to put your X-wing into that water, Kyp, or else you automatically forfeit," Jaina said with a coldness that stood in such temperate contrast to the heat from the pool. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine..."
As Jaina counted, Kyp kept looking back between her and the pool in nervousness, and right when she said "nine," the Jedi Master dunked his balls into the boiling water.
He squealed like a pig, much to Jaina's delight, and for quite a number of seconds, he did not take his "X-wing" out of the water.
But right when he got to the ninth and penultimate second, he retracted and fell back to the floor, groping and moaning for his genitals. They were steamed a deep red, with the X-wing painting completely washed off.
As the pool automatically flushed itself to get rid of the ink from Kyp's genitals, only to refill a few seconds later with a new wave of hot water, Jaina walked over to the Jedi Master and loomed over his mewling form. With the toe of a boot, she turned him over so that he was facing the floor, and then, as promised, she jammed the riding crop up his ass, emitting yet another pig-like squeal from him.
After ten seconds, Jaina finally pulled the riding crop out of Kyp's ass, and as he crawled away back into the darkness, his consenting torturer turned and walked out of the room and into a bathroom. It took Jaina only a minute to wash the riding crop of the germs from Kyp's ass.
When she reemerged into the room where Kyp went through his trial, Jaina saw through the darkness that the Jedi Master was standing again, as if his balls weren't still aching from the torture he just endured.
Jaina liked that about Kyp; he could recover quickly from pain. It was mildly regrettable, she thought, that he wouldn't fuck her tonight, or probably ever.
She then lifted her free hand again and pointed to the figure on her right; without any words from either Jaina or the next figure, the latter stepped forward into the light, revealing himself to be a naked Zekk; and like Kyp before him, his genitals were painted like an X-wing. Unlike Kyp, however, his posture was completely rigid, with no noticeable shakiness.
But Jaina could sense his fear all too clearly through the Force.
"I assume that you were paying attention to what I told your predecessor?" Jaina asked.
"Sir, yes, sir," Zekk responded with a curt nod and a similar tone.
"One, two, three," Jaina began, "four, five, six..."
She trailed off as Zekk promptly dunked his painted scrotum into the boiling water, and Jaina was almost impressed that she could barely perceive his mewls of pain.
She was, however, genuinely impressed when he held his balls in there for a good eleven seconds, more than was necessary. But like Kyp, he, too, collapsed to the floor in abject pain, clutching his penis and testicles in violent screams.
"I'm glad I didn't have to wash this," Jaina said as she glanced at the riding crop. "And it looks like none of you will be lashed tonight."
Of course, Jaina did sense from Kyp's aura that he was disappointed that he wasn't going to have intercourse with her, as even he knew that he would recover from the pain to his balls within an hour or so.
Jaina waited patiently and silently as Zekk crawled toward her and then stood himself up as the pool flushed itself and refilled with new hot water. Once he was back on his feet, Jaina promptly gave him the riding crop, turned around, and bent over; she gave no resistance as Zekk whacked her ass, and with each smack, she yelped in pleasurable pain.
Once that was done, Jaina stood back up, ignoring the aftereffects of the pain delivered to her from the ten whacks and took the riding crop back from Zekk. He walked back to his place in the darkness, and once he was there, Jaina lifted her free hand and pointed to the last figure in the darkness, the one in the center.
The last man, Jagged Fel, stepped in to the light, with his scrotum, unlike Kyp and Zekk's, painted like a Chiss clawcraft instead of an X-wing.
Jaina had told Kyp and Zekk beforehand that the different starfighter appearance wouldn't affect the contest.
Jag and Jaina shared only a second's look at each other, and before Jaina could even start counting, he placed his clawcraft into the boiling pool of water.
He didn't even mewl in pain as he looked Jaina right in the eyes; he was like a machine, and Jaina was so turned on right now at his steadfastness.
And as if to upstage Zekk, Jag kept his scrotum in the boiling pool of water for twelve seconds before pulling out; and he didn't even fall to the floor in pain and simply walked over to Jaina.
More enthusiastically than she did with Zekk, she handed Jag the riding crop, turned, and bent over again as Jag administered the whacks to her ass cheeks; and the whacks were just as pleasurable as Zekk's.
After Jag was done, with him back in his place in the darkness between Kyp and Zekk, and the riding crop back in her hands, Jaina resumed her rigid military posture as she faced them.
"Kyp," Jaina said, "you have been eliminated. You may leave." She waited as Kyp turned and departed from the room in visible shame. "Zekk, you have performed well, as have you, Jag. And although it may seem that Jag would win on account of keeping his clawcraft in the pool longer than Zekk, as well as not demonstrating any visible signs of pain in the process, that does not automatically eliminate you; to show pain and still endure is possibly even more admirable than enduring and not showing pain." She depends. "I suppose it depends on a certain point of view," she said with a knowing smile.
Zekk flashed a smile of his own, as if he felt that he might win this one, while Jag remained characteristically stoic as ever.
"With that being said," Jaina continued, "I do not hold that point of view. Therefore, Zekk, you have been eliminated because of the very traits that I have brought up. You may leave."
Zekk looked crestfallen, but nevertheless hung his head in shame and turned to leave the room.
When Zekk was gone, the heated pool flushed its water one last time and did not refill again as it sunk back into the floor; the section that it occupied was then replaced by the ascension of a smoothed, freshly-prepared bed. The bed's appearance was soon accompanied by the disappearance of the harsh light above and its own replacement of a soothing red light that revealed that the room that Jaina and Jag were in was a posh, five-star hotel suite rented on Coruscant for this one night.
Jaina then crawled onto the bed, stripped herself naked, and laid there sensually before Jag.
"So in which port would you like to dock your clawcraft, Jag?" Jaina asked sensuously.
"Whichever you'd like, ma'am," Jag replied as his penis became erect, as if he hadn't undergone a severe burn to his genitals.
Jaina then lay back, spreading herself out, and allowed Jag to mount her.
.
Kyp and Zekk each had a palm propping up his head on the bar table they shared as their free hands allowed them to idly sip from their drinks in one of the finer drinking establishments of upper Coruscant.
"So," Zekk said, "you thinking of finding another port to put your X-wing into tonight?"
Kyp sighed. "I don't think it's gonna go anywhere. At least not for a while."
Zekk gave one last sip of his drink and left some credits on the table. "Well, I'm gonna give my X-wing a good practice run by myself tonight, if you know what I mean."
"And is your astromech gonna be Glitter Clitter tonight?" Kyp asked as Zekk stood up. Glitter Clitter was the name, or rather nickname, of a very famous Twi'lek holoporn star in the Outer Rim.
"You betcha," Zekk said before tapping Kyp in a friendly way on the shoulder and leaving.
Again, Kyp sighed. You know, he thought, on second thought, letting Glitter Clitter be my astromech for my X-wing tonight won't be such a bad idea.