Recap: The Mandalorian bought out Yska's contract and she became his property. They purchased some supplies before heading to his ship, where a precognitive mechanic gave him a word of advice.
Dedication: *This chapter has been edited to comply with FFNET guidelines - the full explicit version can be found on Ao3 under the same pen-name. Here's an extra long chapter to make up for not posting last week. My husband and I are moving to a new state, so there could be a stretch between updates until we get more settled.
The Mandalorian's Reward
By Scarlet Willows
Chapter Three
The inside of the Mandalorian's ship was metallic and utilitarian. And cold. Yska shivered, snuggling further into her new coat. She couldn't recall a space more drab and unwelcoming...and she'd grown up in an orphanage! She clutched her bag strap tighter.
"Where should I put my stuff...sir?"
The towering commando looked around. He hadn't thought this through. And that was unusual for him. His brows furrowed underneath his helmet. He gestured her to follow him through the cockpit, up through the common area and the galley, and finally to his sleeping quarters. He swallowed. He hadn't shared his sleeping quarters since... He shook the thought away. That was a long time ago.
The dilemma became apparent immediately. If she were to share his quarters constantly, he wouldn't have a private place to take his helmet off. He'd have to remedy that...and quickly.
"You'll share my room. Just until I can set up a space for you." He nodded in the direction of a small dresser.
Yska crossed the room to a chest of drawers. "Here?" She double-checked nervously. The Mandalorian nodded silently. She took off her coat and knelt, unpacking her few belongings into a drawer, feeling his visor on the back of her neck. She'd need more storage once their new supplies arrived. She finished quickly and stood, clutching her arms to herself. Looking anywhere - primarily the bed - other than at her new owner.
Awkward silence reigned and the Mandalorian wasn't sure how to set the human girl at ease. He wasn't exactly practiced in the art of conversation. Part of the Code was to only speak when necessary and relevant. And part of his early upbringing stressed reservedness. He recognized most situations didn't require his comment. It wasn't his fault if it made others uncomfortable.
But...something niggled at the back of his mind. It was the same feeling he got whenever there was an enemy sneaking up at his back or when someone was hiding something. When he'd been a child, he remembered the elders and the Mystics had had a name for this feeling, this energy. Those sensitive enough to it had gone to train with the Mystics to interpret visions. He hadn't been strong with it as a youngling, but it had always been there with him - this feeling - and he had learned to trust it. It had saved his life more times than he could count. And now... against the Mandalorian Way, this force was telling him that it would serve him in the long run to make a small effort towards the human's comfort. With words. Without knowing why, he trusted in his intuition. It whispered to him that Yska would be in his life for a while, so...the gesture could go a long way in helping her adjust.
"This is the fresher," he motioned to the door on his right. He looked her up and down, taking a guess that she'd never been off world before asking, "Have you used a sonar cleanser?"
"What's that?" Yska cocked her head, eyes resting on a spot below his visor. She felt uneasy making "eye contact" with a non-face.
His guess proved correct. "On small ships, water must be reserved for drinking and cooking. It's common to find sonar "showers" on space vessels. It cleans you and any of your clothes with sound waves. You don't even need to undress."
"What? How?" She asked in surprise, peeking into the small fresher unit.
The Mandalorian began to remove his cloak, draping it on the rather large mattress. "The way I understand it, the sound vibrations shake off debris and bacteria on a microscopic level. Do you need to use it now?"
When Yska pulled her head out of the curious white stall, she noticed he'd begun removing most of his weapons and belts to join his cloak on the massive bed. He'd kept a single blaster at his hip. Her heart skipped a beat. She had hoped he'd give her a bit more time to settle before...
Yska bit her lip. Last night had felt great, but, if she were honest, she was a teeny bit sore. He had over sixteen inches in height and about a hundred and fifty pounds of muscle over her - he had not been small by any means in other areas.
"I, uh...I showered last night, after..."
The Mandalorian watched the girl's cheeks color attractively. He watched her squirm and rub her arms. He watched her glance furtively at the bed.
His visor scanner showed her heart rate spike. She had, no doubt, misinterpreted him getting comfortable. And as tempted as he was to take her there and then, as repressed as he was, even he was emotionally sensitive enough to recognize her fear. While he deeply desired her coy submission...the next time, he wanted to see what she was like when relaxed.
He sighed, setting his weapons in a small safe by the bed. "Have you had morning meal yet? I bought some food to go."
Yska shook her head. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Yska followed the Mandalorian to the galley. He motioned for her to sit at the small metal dining table, and she did so silently. The commando handed the bag of take-away to a silver service droid, who began to unpack it, portioning it onto plates and storing the leftovers into the cooler.
Her mouth started salivating when the plate was set in front of her and Yska began to dig in with gusto. Tondah hadn't allowed so much food in one sitting...so the girls stayed thin. Yska wasn't starved, per se, but...she hadn't felt full in months. She was nearly halfway through her meal when she realized the Mandalorian hadn't sat down.
Oh, no. He probably wouldn't want her to eat him out of house and home and possibly lose her slender figure...like Tondah. Was he disappointed she hadn't waited for his permission? Would he want her to wait for him? With so many uncertainties about his expectations, Yska felt stifled with nerves. Her cheeks heated as she set her cutlery down, eyes filling with shame. "Sorry, sir," she mumbled.
"Why?" He cocked his head.
"I...I should have waited. I'm sure you wouldn't want me to...lose my figure. I promise I have manners. And I'll portion better." She hung her head, whispering the last part, "I was just so hungry."
"Yska!" Such sternness filled the Mandalorian's voice that she flinched, eyes snapping up. "I'll not tolerate shame around food while you are under my care. I don't know what your life was like in that brothel, but here, you will eat nutritious food until you are satisfied, do you understand?" She nodded automatically, even while the words were still sinking in. Having seen first-hand the effects of starvation during his travels, he would not let that happen to any charge of his. Little made him angrier, faster. "It is obvious that you are a bit malnourished and I fully expect you to gain some healthy weight. Do not fret over that. This will ensure that you'll have the energy to keep up with me."
A second passed before his words hit her squarely and she blushed even harder. The Mandalorian turned to the droid and commanded, "Make sure Yska has a constant supply of healthy food."
"Yes, sir," it responded mechanically.
He turned his gaze on her and Yska could feel the heat of it even through the impetus of the helmet. "You'll come to me for treats." The Mandalorian took his plate of food and exited the room.
Yska wondered if her blush would ever fade around this man. She cursed her fair skin.
A minute passed as Yska listened to his footsteps fade. "He...he's not going to eat with me?" She asked the droid, ignoring the pang of disappointment as she settled on the humanoid shape of the robot.
"As a Mandalorian, he will not show his face to a living being until he has found something more valuable than The Code. Meals are a solitary event since it requires the helmet to be removed," the droid explained in a gender-neutral voice as it sanitized the counter.
"Oh, yes, I...forgot. I...I don't know what I expected," she mumbled, feeling a twinge of disappointment while taking another bite of her meal. Blue eyes glanced at the doorway. "I'm Yska, by the way. What are you called?"
"I am SD-100, a class three service droid. I am programmed to maintain environmental cleanliness, prepare meals based on your species' nutritional needs, run errands, maintain stock, and aid in basic everyday tasks."
"Well, thank you, SD-100." Yska chewed thoughtfully, brows scrunching. "Hmm...that name sounds so clinical and clunky. SD... Do you mind if I call you...Sid?"
"If that is your preference, Yska. I have never gone by another moniker before."
"Well, Sid it is, then! Tell me, Sid, are there any other...crew members? How long have you served the Mandalorian?" She took a sip of water that the droid had placed in front of her.
"There is a medical droid and two astromech droids. There are no other biological crew members at this time. And I have been in service to my master for fifty-seven years, ten months, and two days."
Yska's mouth dropped open. The Mandalorian...he was much older than she'd thought. But, perhaps that was young for his species? The blue skin that she'd briefly seen last night had meant he obviously wasn't human...unless he was completely tattooed, but that seemed unlikely. "How...how old is he?" She ventured curiously. The Mandalorian didn't seem like the talkative type, but if she could get a little information from the droid, that might help her.
"My master is two hundred eighteen standard revolutions," the droid intoned flatly as it pulled some fresh vegetables and meat from the cooler. It began to chop everything neatly and evenly, preparing a slow roast for later that evening. Her brows shot into her blonde hairline. Yska was only a scant nineteen revolutions in comparison.
"What's his species and where is he from? Do you know his name?" She asked, barely able to contain her curiosity as the words tripped over her lips.
"You do not currently have clearance for that information."
The droid turned around and took her empty plate for cleaning. It was then that she noticed the Mandalorian leaning in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. Her stomach tied itself in knots. He'd heard her pestering his droid for information that he had himself denied her. What were the repercussions? Would he punish her? Would he hurt her? She wrung her hands in her lap as she hung her head, hiding behind vanilla bangs.
"Come, Yska," the Mandalorian commanded flatly. "Let us talk."
The human found herself sitting on a rather firm couch in what she assumed was the common area. It was metallic and gray and devoid of any personality. Fingers twisted in the hem of her overly long sleeves. The commando sat across from her, leaning forward on his knees, which brought him almost to her height.
Even shaking, she whispered, "I'm sorry, sir," hoping that would curtail any wrath.
The warrior sighed through his helmet speaker, looking briefly to the side. He'd spoken more in the last twenty hours than he had in the last year! And he didn't foresee that slowing any time soon. His acquisition was already proving to be more distracting and...catalyzing than he'd anticipated.
He didn't want her to fear him, per se, but he also couldn't have her causing problems. She'd obviously had it hard and, because of that, he needed to handle her more gently than he was used to. Strangely...he actually wanted to put her at ease...but, he also needed to drive his point home.
"Yska...I understand that you are...curious." He began, voice deep and authoritative. "That's natural. But when I choose not to give you an answer, I expect you to respect my word. Under my care, my word is law, and I expect you to treat it as such."
Yska nodded a little too quickly, eyes wide. "Y-yes, sir. Of course. It won't happen again."
"We'll see that it doesn't."
He began to rise and Yska flinched, turning as if she expected to be struck. He froze. Yes, he was a bounty hunter and mercenary, a violent business by nature, but he'd never been violent to innocents or those that meant him no harm. "Yska...do you think I'm going to hurt you now?"
Yska drew her knees to her chest and nodded sadly, eyes flitting away once more. The Mandalorian sat back down, noticing the fine tremor to her tiny frame. That intuition pushed at him again. "Perhaps...we should establish some...rules." At least that brought her eyes back to his visor. "Would that ease your mind?"
"Yes," she whispered with a voice that cracked. His chest clenched as she looked up at him with big eyes from under pale tresses.
He sighed. He had definitely not planned this out. And he'd always had a plan. This was so unlike him. But...he decided to rely on that feeling again and...to follow his passion. The elders would have been disappointed, to say the least.
"First, I need you to know that I will never be violent with you, Yska. You are under my protection now and that means I take your safety seriously. I may be rough but, I don't hurt innocents. This is my Code. Do you understand?"
Her shoulders relaxed from around her ears by increments. "Yes," she responded quietly.
"'Yes', what?" His brow quirked under his helmet.
"Yessir," she piped up quickly.
"Good girl," his eyes narrowed. "That being said, I will never intentionally harm you. If I feel like you've defied me to the point of requiring a punitive response," he sat straighter, a few moments passing while he contemplated thoughtfully, "then...I may take you over my knee. Redden your sweet, little ass. Or I may take you more...selfishly in the bedroom. It might scare you. And you probably won't like it. It wouldn't be a deterrent otherwise." He leaned forward again, elbows on his knees, gloved fingers steepled. "However...nothing I do to you will ever leave lasting harm. I mean this mentally as well as physically. And...I will always ensure that after the punishment is carried out, I will give you pleasure and comfort."
Some silence passed as he leveled Yska with his visor, watching her pale blue eyes shift as she processed his words. Even though the thought of bending Yska over his lap to administer a good spank got him fucking hard, he could tell the thought of pain didn't excite her. He'd always liked a little pain...and so had most of his partners. Perhaps it was his primal warrior side. But a part of him whispered it was due to his...defection. He shook his head. They'd cross that bridge if they came to it.
Yska inhaled as if to ask a question, but then abruptly changed her mind. If it was pertinent, he needed to know. "Go ahead. Ask."
"Um...what...what would...get me in trouble? Sir," she tacked on quickly.
He smirked. "You mean, how would you avoid punishment? Or would you like a hard spank now and again?"
He smiled as her eyes went wide, like he knew they would. She shook her head quickly, pulling her knees closer. "N-no, I...I want to avoid that."
The Mandalorian hummed to avoid an outright chuckle. He'd have plenty of time to teach her about unconventional pleasures, but for now, her purity was alluring. He looked to the side for a moment before turning back to the anxious girl. "Yska...I know you're young. I expect you to make mistakes. That's part of learning. I would not punish you for something natural. It is important to me that I see you making a sincere effort to try, or ask for help, even if you make mistakes. I will teach you when necessary, and admonish you with a warning before jumping to the extreme. You will know if and when you are on the path to a punitive action. If you are willfully defiant, disrespectful, or seek to harm yourself in some way - these are grounds for punishment. If you are disloyal and seek to bring me or my property harm, then...I will find you a new master. One who...may not take your wellbeing as seriously as I do. Am I clear?"
"Crystal, sir," Yska nodded, jaw set, eyes determined. "Those seem like fair terms. I...will not give you a reason to go so far."
The Mandalorian could feel warmth spread in his chest...and he set his intention to ignore it. "Good girl. You don't strike me as the type that would."
"Sir...may...may I speak freely?" Yska ventured, biting her bottom lip.
"Unless we are in the presence of others, and unless I state otherwise...I would prefer you to speak freely, Yska," the Mandalorian leaned back, legs crossed, an arm stretched along the back of his seat.
Yska's body language was more free. She wasn't clutching to her knees any longer, but had tucked them comfortably to the side while she twirled a strand of her ponytail, delicate fingers peeking out from oversized sleeves. Still nervous, but less on guard. "What are your expectations from me? And what are my duties exactly? I would assume they are...sexual," her voice dropped shyly, "but...what else do I do in the meantime?"
The Mandalorian considered for some moments before responding. What else did he want her for? Why had he bought her? Sure, he found her beautiful and the sex had been great. Amazing, actually. And he defiantly wanted more of it. But...other than feeling sorry for her (which was most unusual for him), and giving in to that mysterious intuition...he didn't know how to answer that question. Maybe...maybe it was because he'd been alone for a long time. And maybe, deep down, he didn't want to be alone anymore. Maybe he wanted someone to care for. Maybe he just hadn't wanted to see such beautiful potential sucked dry by the cruelty of others. He didn't know.
He took a calming breath, releasing those unnecessary emotions. "I expect you...I expect you to pursue an interest on your free time. Build a skill. You have free use of the ship, except for the cockpit or my quarters when the door is closed. It's a decent ship and I expect you to find something to do around here to entertain yourself...as long as it doesn't jeopardize or interfere with my work." He shifted in his seat, uncrossing his legs and spreading his thighs. His head tilted as he watched the human, his modulated voice dropping an octave. "I expect you to follow all my orders. I will never order you to do something unsafe. Though...I may order you to do something outside your comfort zone from time to time. But, I will ensure that you will enjoy it in the end. We'll start slow and small, but...I expect you...to service me when I ask...and in the way I tell you."
Was it Yska's imagination that his voice had gone softer, more...husky? She shuddered. Nervous arousal filled her, confusing her senses. Her stomach dropped out from under her as the Mandalorian stood and switched to sit beside her on the couch. He ran a gloved hand up her tucked calf. Yska's breath sped up, unresistant as the commando slowly pulled her leg straight, opening up her thighs and angling her hips toward him. He had planned to wait, to let her get more settled in, but...his cock was too hard to ignore. "I expect you...," he ran his hand up her leg to her inner thigh, so close to the apex of her heat, "to find pleasure with me."
Her brows furrowed and Yska bit her bottom lip as the Mandalorian gripped her possessively. Her heart leaped into her throat and she swallowed anxiously. He'd been gentle the last time and had just promised he wouldn't intentionally hurt her. He wanted her to enjoy it, too. Hadn't she wished just last night that he'd whisk her away from her life? She tried to swallow down her insecurities.
The Mandalorian leaned over her, supporting his weight against the armrest behind her, and Yska laid back into the couch cushions. She wasn't sure what to do with her arms, so she kept them close to her chest as she shivered in the cold room.
He spoke again, his deep, aching voice making her throb as much as his hand. "I expect you to be honest in all things. I want you to tell me when you need something. I want you to tell me if something feels good."
He began to undress her, to embrace her fully.
He could feel his passions bubbling so close to the surface, leaking out through his words. Yet...strangely, he couldn't bring himself to feel ashamed. It felt...right. What was it about this girl...? He'd analyze that later.
"How do you feel, Yska?" He whispered earnestly between panting breaths.
"F-full," she stuttered, biting her bottom lip red. "Good," she breathed softly, surprised to find that statement true. Even though she was less than comfortable. She was folded in half, legs hanging awkwardly to the side, and his cold beskar kept digging into her knees with each thrust. The couch was a little stiff and there wasn't much room to maneuver. In fact, the large warrior only had one leg bent on the sofa while the other propped him up from the floor. But...even feeling a bit rushed and squished...it was perfect.
He was as sensual and gentle as he'd been the night before. Yska could feel his urgency, ache, and desire for her permeate the very air. He had saved her from untold atrocities and was offering her a new life. She felt wanted and cared for - even if it was just a little bit - for the first time in her life. It was perfect.
His thrusts quickened slightly. He smiled to himself as he felt Yska's hips squirm for more contact, her mewls turn to moans.
He wanted so badly to gather her hair in his hand and press long kisses to her forehead, to tilt her chin up to align with his lips...to make them one. His lips tingled. He was at the edge before he knew what was happening. "Fuuuck," he growled as ecstasy ripped through his entire body, bruising her hips in his hands as he poured...and poured...and poured.
His breath came in ragged gulps. He hadn't felt that intense in a very long time. He shook his head from the daze as he regained his senses.
Yska was looking up at him worriedly. "Are...are you alright, sir?"
The Mandalorian couldn't help the elated chuckle that filled his words, drunk on pleasure, "I am beyond well, little human." Slowly, he caressed her face...still fighting with that forbidden urge to kiss her. "Let's get you off now." He rose up and brought his naked thumb to her lips. "Lick."
Yska's eyes darted to it, trying to etch into memory the shade of his blue skin, and those monochromatic lines with bursts of yellow. And...those curious symbols on his fingernails. At first glance, she thought they might be bruises, but, as she sucked his thumb into her mouth, she realized they were tattoos. Simple, just a few lines and dots but, decidedly intentional.
She would have given a better performance with her tongue if he hadn't seemed a tad impatient. The human gasped and moaned and squirmed. Yska's young body wound tight as a bowstring. Poised to snap. The Mandalorian knew his little human was in the throws of pleasure when he felt her voice hitch. He moaned with her as he tipped her over the edge.
Panting and shaking and on the verge of overwhelmed tears, any relaxing aftermath Yska would have enjoyed was interrupted when she noticed Sid, the droid, standing a few paces away. "Oh, kriff!" She grabbed onto the Mandalorian's chest plate as his hand reflexively rested on his holster.
The warrior relaxed when he saw it was just the SD unit, but his voice was annoyed. "What is it?
"I've come to alert you that your deliveries have arrived in the cargo bay. After I unload, would you like me to initiate the pre-flight checklist?"
"Yes," he fought not to roll his eyes. Even though they couldn't be seen, he still wouldn't indulge in a juvenile habit. "And SD...barring an emergency...next time...wait outside the room until we are finished."
"Understood, sir. I will endeavor to avoiding interrupting coitus in the future." The silver robot turned around and clanked out of the room.
Yska blushed. She had to have been making some loud sounds to have covered the android's metallic gait. Either that, or she'd been really into it. Both were likely true.
The Madalorian sighed, pressing his helmet to Yska's forehead. Hoping the gesture eased her nerves. "Now be my good girl and go clean up," he patted the side of her ass.
Yska shimmied awkwardly into her underwear and leggings before walking carefully out of the room to the fresher.
The Mandalorian felt his cheeks warm, a second smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watched her flared hips sway. Knowing she was holding him inside her. The elders would chide him for his weakness.
The SD unit returned to the room with a cleansing wipe, which the commando accepted silently. He eyed the damp spot on the couch as he cleaned and tucked himself back into his breeches. The SD unit had already brought cleaning supplies, silently working on removing the evidence.
The Mandalorian took a look around his ship, deciding he'd be giving his droid reason to clean far more often.
Add this story to your Alerts or check for updates every other Friday evening. There could be some wait time as my husband and I are uprooting to a new state over the next couple months, but I will try to stay regular. Hugs!