SPANKING SEX SCENE ADDED AS OF 7/19/23! HUGE OVERHAUL OF THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER! Added 2600 words!
Recap: The Mandalorian delivered his bounty to the Chiss crime lord, Ivost, on the planet Makeb. Yska was caught with her dagger. Yska looked familiar to Ivost and he tried to purchase her from the bounty hunter, but Razzen-Va would not sell her. Ivost propositioned the Mandalorian with another job - retrieving time-sensitive whistleblowing data - but was refused. The Mandalorian was just about to leave when Ivost offered him a mysterious cure for something known as "Ardor Defection."
Dedication: As always, M.C. Adair and AlchemyAlters, for your continued encouragement! And to GraceEliz and Juna23 for your reviews. THANKS FOR OVER 7700 HITS (10,000+ HITS as of July 2023)!
Author's Note 7/19/23-3/24/24: you poor poor dears! I've left you on a cliffhanger for over a year+?! Be assured, I have been spanked for this oversight! This revision was inspired by my friend, whose spanks leave a very obvious handprint on my lily-white skin - but whom I also hope never reads my work because he's a troll. This revision was also spurred on by two awesome, geeks and my amazing beta, M.C. Adair. After I publish my spicy werelion paranormal romance this fall, I will finish up this story.
Check out some badass ART of IVOST on my Instagram and Kofi (Lin ks in profile).
The Mandalorian's Reward
By Noelle Scribe
Chapter Seven - The Dagger
The Mandalorian turned back to face the crime lord with clenched fists.
"Aha," Ivost chuckled darkly, a smug grin stretching his lips. "I thought that might get your attention, Mando."
"How do you know about Ardor Defection, Chiss?" The Mandalorian growled through his teeth. His aura turned menacing.
Yska froze on the couch between the two men. She'd never heard the Mandalorian use such a dangerous tone.
What was Ardor Defection and why did it need a cure? Was her owner sick?
Ivost chuckled again, drawing a puff from his deathstick. "Dispensing with civilized manners now, are we?" He exhaled a billowing plume of smoke. Yska's nose wrinkled. Ivost leaned back, petting the spice-dazed slave fawning at his knee. "I make it a point to know everything about the people I deal with. What does it matter how I know, so long as I have the solution you seek?"
Yska's nerves sparked, ready to run. Buzzing energy rolled off the commando. The leather of his gloves creaked in his grip.
There was a pause. The warrior held completely still while his mind raced. "How can I be sure you speak the truth?" He asked after a chron.
Ivost smirked. He produced a blue vial from inside his jacket. Just a simple tube, no longer than a finger. The Chiss tilted the vial back and forth, the liquid sloshing to and fro.
Ivost turned his attention fully to the glass, admiring its glistening contents. "I'm told it's a hormonal cocktail made from ingredients that are very expensive and very hard to come by." His red eyes slid over to Yska. "You poor thing. His defection must be wearing you out. Can't say I blame him." He leered before turning back to the bounty hunter. "She must burn you up something awful if you won't part with her even for a night." He shook his head with an arrogant, pompous chuckle. "Your species is a strange one, Mando. I honestly don't understand the fuss over binding one's passions, but then again, the Chiss are not repressed deviants."
"How did you come by this?" The Mandalorian asked with unconcealed suspicion.
"I'm offering the reset button, Mando." Ivost ignored the question, flicking his ashes into the tray. "Tik tok," he tisked. "Time is a precious commodity that you, unfortunately, do not have in excess." His red eyes hardened, the lines around his mouth deepening. "Retrieve the Avesta spy's data chip before it is delivered, and the Ardor Defection cure is yours."
Yska slowly moved to stand next to the Mandalorian, trying not to attract attention. The commando thrummed with vibrating energy - a force - that shimmered around him like a heat-mirage. It ripple along Yska's skin like pinpricks. It took everything in her to not recoil from the sensation.
Yska heard a whisper of a sigh over the Mandalorian's helmet speaker. His shoulders sagged a millimeter. The energy - and the tingles - discharged. After a few days in his company, she had become better at reading his body. To her confusion and astonishment, she knew he was going to give in.
Yska burned with curiosity. But now was not the time for questions. Now was the time to keep her ears open and her mouth shut.
"Send me the details." If there was defeat in the bounty hunter's voice, it was not apparent.
"Good choice. I knew you'd see it my way, Mando," Ivost grinned. He produced a data fob from his jacket pocket and tossed it towards the warrior. He tipped his deathstick in Yska's direction with a wide leer. "Of course, I'll be more than happy to host your lovely associate during your absence."
"Yska will remain on my ship. She has duties to attend to."
Ivost pouted. "You're no fun, Mando. Didn't your mother ever teach you to share your toys? Or does every pleasure go against your pious Code?" He turned to the human. "My dear, if you ever grow weary of this one's lack of imagination," he tipped his deathstick toward the bounty hunter, "I have many positions suitable for a beauty as rare as you."
"I doubt I'd find them to my liking, but I'll keep that in mind, my lord." Yska could hardly keep the disgust off her face, nor the venom from her tone. "Make as many assumptions about me as you'd like, but my loyalty is not for sale. It is earned."
Razzen-Va's brows rose underneath his visor. His chest warmed. His lips tingled. Was this a preview of more strength to come? The notion was…stirring. He found himself wanting to be worthy of such loyalty. He wanted to earn it. If only he knew how…
The Mandalorian and Yska were escorted back to their ship. The trek was silent.
Yska's dagger - the one gifted from the Zabrak, Imalyn, back in the brothel - was returned to her before they departed Ivost's compound. The Mandalorian's scrutiny as she stowed it in her boot made her heart race. The steel seared along her ankle the entire way back to the ship, along with the promise of consequences.
Ivost's henchmen remained stationed outside as Yska and the bounty hunter disappeared up the ramp into the cargo bay.
The cargo doors hissed closed. They were alone at last.
The tension was taut enough to snap.
Yska reached into her boot and produced the dagger, sheepishly presenting it to the Mandalorian.
He leveled her with that unwavering visor-stare. She fought the impulse to shrink with a swallow. Slowly, he took it.
Yska's heart quickened as she chewed her bottom lip.
The Mandalorian turned his attention to the dagger in his hand, made smaller by his large palm. It was clearly not one of his, which ruled out theft. The dagger was a humble design, but well-cared for and fairly weighted. Good for small hands.
"How long have you been in possession of this weapon?"
His voice was devoid of emotion. Yska couldn't read his tone or his body language. Perhaps that was his biggest tell of all.
She swallowed. "One of the other women gave it to me before we left the brothel."
Silence fell like fog. The ship settled. The filtration system whirred. Yska's stifled breaths and heartbeat were klaxon alarms to her ears.
"You could have used this on me in my sleep. Why haven't you?"
Yska floundered.
If she'd truly wanted to, Yska could have used the dagger while the warrior slept, commandeered the ship, and flown off into freedom. The thought had briefly crossed her mind. But...she knew in her heart she couldn't - wouldn't - do that. The Mandalorian had shown her kindness - even if he didn't consider it such. He hadn't hurt her, and Yska felt - knew, somehow - he wasn't likely to, especially with his Code.
The truth was that he had bought her for sex - no way to sugarcoat it. But at least it was good for her as well, so far. Whatever other proclivities he had, it was clear that he was unselfish, evidenced by the fact that he was a generous lover, giving her - a slave - pleasure with each sexual encounter. The fact that he cared about a slave's comfort spoke volumes about his character.
He'd provided for her needs and comforts more than anyone ever had in just the first day of acquaintanceship. All he'd asked for in return was her company and her body. While firm, he had never taken a demanding or entitled tone with her; never made her feel anything less than. Her body was something she could give willingly...to him. She could foresee the possibility of her heart following suit if she was ever freed.
Yska steeled herself with the truth. "Because…you are not a bad man. You haven't done anything to me that would warrant such a scar on my soul."
The Mandalorian's neutrality opened up into something almost inviting. There was a softening around him.
He asked - with a hint of warmth, "Why did you feel the need to take the dagger into Ivost's compound? I am weapon enough."
"You implied we were going into a dangerous place. Back at the orphanage, we used to say, 'I'd rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it.'" Her eyes hardened unapologetically. "I'd rather be alive than obedient…sir."
The Mandalorian couldn't argue with her sound reasoning. In fact, he respected it. Respected her - this deceptively delicate thing - even more. He would have done the same had their positions been reversed.
His stomach fluttered and his heart warmed, but he couldn't lose face in a power struggle. His voice lowered an octave. "The fact remains if I had wanted you armed, I would have armed you. My trust has been betrayed. A warning will not suffice in this instance. For deception - and a dire lack of communication placing us both at risk - there will be consequences."
He stepped slowly into her space, using his full height to imprint his authority. His energy swirled with a cold sort of fury.
"Take off your leggings and underwear."
"Sir?"
"Don't make me repeat myself, little human."
Yska's mouth went dry. She complied, fighting tremors. The cargo bay was chilly. She covered herself with her tunic. She felt even more naked with her leggings pooled around her ankles than if she were completely undressed.
A metal crate scraped the floor as the Mandalorian dragged the makeshift seat into the middle of the room. He sat down, corded thighs spread in the definition of comfort.
He patted his lap.
"Bend over."
Yska flushed crimson. "S-sir?"
"Disobedient girls who don't communicate get spanked. If my words won't suffice, perhaps my handprint will help you remember."
His impassive visor froze her to the spot, even though his voice was full of heat. "And afterwards, I will make you cum so hard around my cock that your screams will be heard beyond the ship. You will remember that you are mine and my word is absolute."
Yska cheeks blazed.
She willed her body to submit, even as it fought her with jerky movements. Her muscles were stiff as she laid her torso over his unforgiving cuisses. The metal of the armor dug into her ribs. Her eyes glazed with frightened tears.
The Mandalorian sighed, taking off his gloves. He caressed Yska's back, pulling her tunic up around her hips. He caressed the backs of her thighs, running blunt nails along her soft skin. He palmed her luscious ass in his massive grip, squeezing the pillowy globes. The human was so pale. It wouldn't take much to turn her hide red.
His scanners showed her heart rate spiked.
"You are safe, Yska." He rubbed the tightness in her back and shoulders. "Do you understand why I am doing this?"
"Because I was dishonest and hid a weapon."
"Yes. But most importantly, it's because…I want to keep you safe."
Yska twisted to look up at his visor with confusion.
"In other situations, your deception could have offended a cultural custom or cost me the trust of a client. Or worse, put you in danger. If you ever pull out a weapon you are not trained to use, it could easily be turned against you. You could be used as a hostage or simply killed. It is my job to protect you. I can't protect you if you don't communicate honestly with me. Had you come to me about this in the first place, this would be going very differently for you right now.
"After we're done, you'll feel this lesson with every movement." He caressed her buttocks, pulsing with the feel of her softness and the anticipation of her whimpers. "The marks will fade with time. The lesson will remain.
"I'm going to give you twenty strikes. When we begin, you will not speak, except to count each strike out loud. And when we are done, you will make my cock ready to fuck you using your pretty pink mouth. Do you understand, little human?"
Yska nodded with a quivering lip.
"You will answer me with words, Yska."
"Yessir," she breathed, feeling small.
"Loud enough to hear."
"Yes, sir," she squeaked.
"If I have to repeat myself, then I'm adding five more strikes."
"Yes, sir," she said clearly.
"If I cannot hear your count, we will start over. If you speak out of turn, I will add a strike for every word. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir!" Yska declared loudly, enunciating vigorously.
"Then let the count begin."
Yska expected a sharp smack…but there came none.
The Mandalorian continued to rub the stiff muscles in her back with one hand, combing through her tresses with the other. Strong hands worked away the tension methodically. The scalp massage and back rub felt so good that she almost let herself relax.
It went on so long that she jumped when his touch landed feather-light on her naked rump. His un-gloved hand was warm and large, nearly encompassing her entire ass. He softly caressed her bottom and the surrounding area, avoiding all contact with her pussy.
This gentle treatment lasted long enough that she wondered if he planned to follow through with her punishment at all.
She almost wished he would just start so the anticipation eating at her belly could settle. She even wiggled her bottom against his hand, trying to urge him on with it. But it didn't phase him.
What happened next was worse.
He stopped touching her. Save for a still hand gripping her hair, he let his other hand rest at his side.
Agonizing seconds turned into minutes. Yska flinched each time the warrior breathed deeply, each time he shifted his weight, with each random creak she heard.
She felt each moment accumulate, weighing heavier and heavier.
She twisted around to see if his hand was hovering, poised for an impending swat. But no. He was just…waiting, visor-gaze burning a hole in her.
Yska squirmed. She wanted so badly to ask - beg - him to start! To get this over with! She wanted to plead her case: she would never do anything like this again because the promise of pain was worse than the actual punishment! The quiet stillness was worse than action!
The silent wait was torture.
Panic set in. Her muscles tightened up again. Her eyes stung.
And nothing had happened yet!
She felt silly. She felt small.
She felt-
Whack!
A sharp sting!
She yelped. It hadn't exactly hurt - in fact, it was almost a relief after the excruciating wait - but the surprise shocked the noise out of her.
His grip tangled in the roots of her hair, turning this side of painful, tugging her head to the side so she could see him.
His assertion coiled deeply into her core: "I will not be rushed. You are on my time."
Whack!
The second swat had more bite to it, but she was ready for it.
His croon was laced with a dark grin: "You must want this to keep going." Whack! "Otherwise you would count."
"One!" Yska shouted.
He swatted her ass again.
"Two! Three! Four!"
Each strike was building a burn.
"Five! S-"
She paused on six, realizing that the blow hadn't actually landed yet. His irregular rhythm was keeping her on her toes. Keeping her in the present moment. Yska had never felt so focused.
The Mandalorian gently caressed her warmed skin. His blunt nails scraped up the backs of her thighs, past her rump, and up her spine. The tunic pooled under her shoulders. The cool air in the cargo bay felt good on her warmed backside.
As the Mandalorian started to massage her scalp with his other hand, Yska worried he was going to make her wait again, dragging out the tension between each stri- whack!
She gasped. This swat was harder than the others. This swat had power behind it. The previous ones had stung. This one ached.
"S-six," she whimpered.
Seven through ten were more of that pattern - caress, massage - followed by an aching strike that made her eyes water. Eleven was a lighter sting, but twelve made Yska clench her fists.
"What will you do in the future? Answer."
"Ask first," she whimpered. "Talk about it."
A thwack accompanied his hum of, "Good."
A throbbing burn slowly seeped deeper and deeper into the muscles in her backside. Her skin was on fire, with heat spreading outward. Her ass would bruise, as would her ribs from laying atop his beskar cuisses. Her legs were trembling from holding the awkward position for so long - not quite kneeling on the floor, not quiet standing, but hovering in limbo.
By fourteen, Yska was sniffling, squirming, groaning in frustration. Her vision watered.
Fifteen was the one that tipped her over; she tried to pull away from the smack.
The Mandalorian stilled. She tensed, knowing she kriffed up.
Her instinct was to apologize immediately. She inhaled, about to speak…when she remembered his rule. If she spoke out of turn, he would add more swats. Yska sucked her lips behind her teeth. She gripped the side of his cuisse so hard her knuckles turned white. Hot tears flowed down her cheeks.
Then she gasped, choking on a sob.
The Mandalorian buried two fingers inside her slit. She hadn't realized she was wet until he was scissoring her open, searching for a spot that would make her see stars.
Suddenly, the burning pain switched into…something else. Something dark that heightened the pleasure. Her pussy throbbed, slicker than it had ever been.
The Mandalorian withdrew his fingers and used her natural lubrication to rub circles into her clit. Yska's body sprinted toward the cliff's edge, ready to plunge in the next breath.
"Ah ah ah," the warrior warned, withdrawing, "not until you're melting on my cock."
Whack!
Yska moaned as the impact rippled pleasure toward her sensitized core. It was like his touch had flipped a switch, giving her body permission to transmute the sensations into something different. Something desirable.
She arched her back for the next round, spreading her legs.
The Mandalorian chuckled, a sound rich with aphotic flavor. "That's it," he whispered, vocoder bursting with pride. Yska blushed. No one had ever sounded so proud of her before.
It was then that she felt his insatiable appendage straining underneath her, hot and ready. She'd been too focused on the pain to feel it before. She felt strangely giddy knowing her submission had aroused him.
The warrior yanked her leggings over her boots and tossed them aside. He spread her legs wider and briefly patted her clenching pussy, leaving her on the edge of need.
After two more strikes, she remembered to count, almost reluctant to do so. The burning ache had wrapped a pleasant vice around her clit, leaving her pussy drooling with a quest to be filled.
"Sixteen," she moaned breathily.
The Mandalorian growled with excitement.
He brushed a light touch over her empty slit again, reveling in her gasps, and patting her clit sharply.
Yska bit her lip to keep from cussing. On one hand, she almost wanted him to continue to heighten the pleasure, but on the other, it delayed him from stretching out her craving cunt. And she reeeeally wanted that.
Nineteen came all too soon…and not soon enough. Her legs shook, her scalp ached from his grip in her locks, and she felt faint from the strain. Yska was panting and whining, impatient and torn with the need to end it…and the desire to prolong it.
The bounty hunter forced a thick thumb inside her clamping pussy while he used his first and middle fingers to vibrate over her aching clit.
Yska wailed. A strange pressure built inside her walls, more intense and sharp than any pleasure she'd experienced before, winding tightly.
He pulled away and landed the final blow.
"Twenty," she sobbed. Silent tears streamed down her face and she wasn't sure if they were from the pain or the pleasure or the overwhelm.
She felt worked over, every muscle screaming as if she'd run for hours.
The Mandalorian gently picked her up as if she weighed nothing and settled her on the floor between his knees.
"Now, be a good little human and open your pretty mouth for me," he coaxed softly, unbuckling his breeches and pulling out his thick cock.
Yska did as she was told, eager to get him wet enough for an easy fuck. The quicker, the better.
The tip of his cock was dark blue, glistening with silky precum. Yska devoured it without further prompting, trying to unhinge her jaw as wide as she could. His taste was heavy on her tongue and his girth was unforgiving, but she devoted herself to the task with fervor.
Even as she tried to relax her throat, she couldn't take him to the hilt. So she let her saliva pool down his shaft and pumped it with her tiny hands. She needed that beast slick enough for a rough ride - because it would be rough. She could feel the pent up coil in his body. He'd held back. She'd seen him drag a spare flux-bolt across the cargo bay. He could've done real damage if he hadn't been careful.
If her pussy was ready to give in to a stiff breeze, he wasn't faring much better.
"Fuuuuuuck," he hissed long and slow through the mechanical vocoder. The Mandalorian tossed his head back and groaned as she tried to swallow him whole. What Yska lacked in experience, she made up for with enthusiasm. Even if she couldn't take all of him - few could - her rhythm was perfect and her tongue branded stripes of need along his teeka'al markings.
"Enough," he growled, pulling her up by the roots of her hair.
The commando manhandled the human onto his lap, spread her ass cheeks open, and slipped his slick cock inside her weeping heat.
Yska's insides spasmed at the intrusion. She moaned loudly.
Razzen-Va clenched his jaw and wrapped one arm around her waist to steady her hips. He clutched the roots of her hair with the other. He tugged just enough to tilt her head back, forcing Yska to meet his visor. She couldn't look away now, like she normally did. Couldn't hide. Couldn't deny what he was doing to her. What he was making her feel.
To Yska, watching her reflection in the Mandalorian's shiny visor was beyond embarrassing and intimate. She looked wrecked and wanton as he pistoned into her, holding her body immobile. She looked slutty and owned and she liked it.
She held tight to his pauldrons, panting like a bantha in heat.
Too quickly, that intense burning ache from earlier grew inside her as his thrusts aggravated the pain from the spanks. Her body was galloping toward the precipice. She could do nothing to slow it. The whole world narrowed to the sharp pain-pleasure building low in her belly, creeping like an ice-hot vice from the back of her cunt to the tip of her clit. It squeezed, radiating the sensation down her nerves until, finally, it erupted in a supernova of tingling stars.
Sound rushed out of her lungs in wave after wave of pleasured screams.
He had promised she'd scream, after all.
When the pleasure was thoroughly squeezed out of her, she went limp against his chest, lightheaded and dizzy and sobbing with overwhelm.
Her orgasm had been so all-consuming she hadn't realized the Mandalorian had finished…until she felt his seed overflowing from her weakened sex.
They stayed like that for some time, catching their breath, too tired to move.
Razzen-Va crushed the petite human to him, running blue fingers through silky blonde tresses. He wished he could bury his nose in her hair and pepper kisses down her face. His heart came down from lofty heights, leaving a warm tingle in its wake.
He prayed she would defy him again, and soon.
"How do you feel?" He asked, winded.
Fighting heavy eyelids, Yska mumbled, "Is it weird if I feel…accomplished?"
"Not at all. This was difficult and you did well."
"Well? Just well? Aren't you gonna give me a little more credit than that?" She lifted her head to pout at him playfully.
The warrior chuckled. "Fine. You did it with flair. Satisfied?"
"Very," she preened, slumping back against his chest.
"Mmm, I think I like how bold you are when you're wrung out." The smile in his voice was obvious as he tucked a strand of hair behind her round human ear.
Yska knew she was getting off easy. Any other slave found with a weapon would be beaten, maimed, or executed by any other master. She was getting by with a spanking, an orgasm, and her life.
"When I return," The Mandalorian said, voice soft, "we will start your training."
"W-what?" She breathed, meeting his visor-gaze.
He cocked his head, a lightness to his voice. "If you're going to be armed with a knife, I want to make sure you know how to use it properly."
Excitement filled his promise.
Having studied the data and targets on Ivost's fob, the Mandalorian prepared for battle. He cleaned and inspected his gear, restocking all medical supplies and devices.
He turned to the task of securing the ship, rented a speeder, and planned for contingencies for this rush-job as best he could.
Half of Ivost's hefty payment was processed into the Mandalorian's account. The rest would follow upon completion.
The prize - the cure for Ardor Defection - was an invaluable motivation. However, it set his stomach to roiling with tingles. The stakes were too high and the job seemingly too easy. Too many unknowns. Too many ways for this to go topside. He didn't trust it.
In fact, Razzen-Va rarely trusted anything or anyone. It was why he was still alive.
His mind wandered back to Yska. While she had foolishly risked his wrath and their very safety by bringing the dagger, her motives had been pure. Protection. Defense. Both reasonable desires.
More importantly…he had been vulnerable over the last few days. He should have frisked her and checked her bags when she had boarded, but he'd underestimated her. By some miracle, Yska had not taken advantage of his lapse in judgment. She could have killed him multiple times if she'd been so inclined. But she hadn't.
It hadn't been the first time Razzen-Va had nearly died by underestimating someone close to him; someone just as seemingly sweet.
Something told him that if the little human felt backed into a corner, she was capable of defending herself. She would have killed with the sort of guilt that accompanies an innocent heart, but she would have done so just the same. I'd rather be alive than obedient. Something had smoldered in her warm blue eyes with the words; small but growing. Something told Razzen-Va that Yska had not gone quietly for Dex - the man who'd betrayed her into slavery. If she truly felt threatened again, he'd bet she would not go quietly then.
He cursed himself. He had been foolish. Foolish to have been lulled into a sense of security by her frailty and shyness. Foolish to have been distracted by his passions. Foolish to cave to the burn in his blood and the craving in his lions to seed her over and over.
He cursed his impulsivity - part of the defection - yet again for purchasing Yska without a plan. He cursed that mysterious intuition for driving him to do so, for complicating his life, for spawning these confusing feelings.
He couldn't afford the distraction.
A tingle simmered along his nerves.
He needed his hard-won wits about him. He needed that Ardor cure and he needed it soon!
His very life could depend on it….
"Yska." The Mandalorian appeared in the threshold of the communal space, startling the blonde human from her secret research. She switched to a reading app and set the datapad aside with a wince. Her ass felt raw.
"Yessir?"
The warrior shifted his weight, hitching the duffel bag on his shoulder awkwardly. His visor's gaze went to the floor, his feet shuffling.
Yska went to him. He was about to go into battle - or at least a very risky situation. She didn't know his feelings or his customs on such occasions; whether he was calm or anxious before a battle, whether he prayed or carried a luck charm. However, right now, she did know that something gnawed at him.
Yska stood before him, close enough that her body heat seeped into the beskar. The top of her head reached his chest.
"Yes?" She gently prompted.
His visor met her eyes, round and young and pure. Too good for the likes of him. He cleared his throat of its sudden constriction. "Yska, can I trust you to go into the market to fetch supplies while I'm gone?"
"Yes, sir." She nodded quickly, the light glinting off her golden tresses. "Th-thank you for trusting me with this task after I…. Well, thank you for another chance."
"SD-100 will accompany you. He is programmed with enough credits for our normal supplies, as well as enough to furnish your new quarters."
"Really?" Yska's eyes widened. "You'd still give me those quarters, even after…what I did?"
"I don't tolerate behavior that puts you at risk, but I will not withhold necessities from you. I mete out consequences accordingly. You have faced your consequence and it shall end there. You will not be punished further." He moved closer, tilting her chin to face his visor. "You are my charge. It is my duty to protect and provide. This is The Way."
"Thank you, sir." She bit her lip, placing a hand on his chest plate.
Her big eyes and her teary gratitude made his knees weak. He ached to kiss her. To hold her. To breathe her into him. To satisfy that tingle that seemed to grow persistent whenever she was near. Maybe it was the rush from the intense sex earlier, but…he felt closer to her now. He wanted…more.
He found himself clutching her waist, pulling her against him, gloves tangled at the hem of her tunic.
"Get whatever you need to feel comfortable," he said, voice soft.
"Thank you, sir. You're very kind." Yska bit her lip, resting the weight of her hips against him. She liked being in his arms like this, even without sex as the impetus. It felt…safe.
"Are you so sure?" His brow lifted. "The bruises on your ass say differently. Deviant sounds more accurate."
"Your brand of kindness is…unconventional, I'll admit. But, from what I know about you so far, you are not a bad man. Maybe a bit of a sadist, sure, but not bad."
His huff sounded like a restrained laugh. She'd take the win. She was trying not to worry about him, savoring the last few moments before he departed.
The commando trailed his fingers along the swell of her cheek. His leather-capped fingers itched to feel the smoothness of her pink skin, the softness of her hair, the curve around her human ear. He couldn't stop the motion more than he could stop breathing.
He had to shake himself from sinking too deeply into her eyes, otherwise he wouldn't leave. He sucked in a bolstering breath, pulling away and squeezing his traitorous hand into a fist. When it began to hurt, Razzen-Va shook it out quickly before redirecting her attention.
"Be back before dark and secure the locks. The holo communicator is in the cockpit for emergencies and SD-100 can help you with anything."
He hitched the duffel bag again and turned to leave before remembering, "Oh! Here." He turned around and placed something cool and cylindrical in Yska's grasp.
She looked down. It was her dagger.
"This time, you have my permission. When you go to the market, I'd rather you have it…and not need it."
Yska's stomach fluttered as she watched him leave.
It was a clear, sunny day in the shopping district of Talaos city.
Yska and Sid the droid left to replenish the ship's fuel and supplies first. Yska walked slowly. Every step vibrated up to her aching buttocks. Every shift of fabric grated against her flaming raw skin. While ordering fresh ingredients and spices for some good old-fashioned home cooking, she tried to keep a straight face. Tried not to remember how that pain had switched to mind-blowing pleasure. Tried not to think about how she could still feel the burn of the Mandalorian inside her.
She shook the tempting thoughts away and focused on the spices. The droid's cooking wasn't bad - and she was ever so grateful for it - but some things just couldn't be replaced by machines. She hoped the Mandalorian wouldn't mind if she showed off her culinary skills. He had encouraged her to develop a skill...and she had always been a decent cook back at the orphanage.
Her mission led her and Sid up the steppes in search of items for her new bedroom.
Yska had never been shopping anywhere high class. For that matter, she'd never been shopping for anything new.
The streets were meticulously clean, with plenty of speeder parking. The sidewalks were wide and inlaid with artistic bricklaying. The buildings looked new and freshly painted. The store windows displayed attractive products. There were even valets who fetched patrons' vehicles or carried their shopping!
Yska asked a loitering valet about his recommendations for furniture stores. He rattled off a few addresses and pointed her up the street.
The valet had assured her the stores were affordable, however, the prices made her brows disappear into her hairline.
"This bed alone will eat up my whole budget!" She whispered to Sid.
"Our owner has allotted more than enough funds to cover the cost of all your needs," Sid said mechanically.
"Yeah, but I wanna make sure he's getting the best deal! Where I'm from, I could have bought two speeders for what this costs!"
"Economic markets are relative. Do you wish to purchase this sleeping pallet?"
Yska's mouth quirked in thought. Part nerves, part determination. She had royally kriffed up with the dagger - now secured in her boot again. She didn't want to kriff up again by spending an exorbitant amount of the Mandalorian's credits. She knew she could find a better bargain - she just had to search in the right spot (much like she searched for information). "Let's keep looking. Make sure we find the right deal."
That entailed testing nearly every mattress, assessing every furniture piece for flaws, and then waffling indecisively. Part of the thrill of shopping was the thrill of the hunt; the search for the hidden gem at the best price - the elusive prey! It must have been two chrons before she found key pieces that fit her criteria for comfort, style, and price.
Then came the haggling. Yska was good at haggling. She'd had to be back on her homeworld. The upscale store clerk hadn't known what hit him by the time she was done with him. She left the store with a twenty percent markdown. Her items would be delivered to the ship.
The rest of the shopping went easier when she found a quaint consignment store to fulfill the rest of her decor needs. Sid toted the trinkets in branded bags while the rest would, again, be delivered.
Yska finished her shopping when her stomach rumbled loudly.
A nearby district map directed her to a food court. Fragrant scents of the appetizing fare delighted her nose. Her mouth watered. She passed many stalls where chefs were crafting delicacies glistening with rich sauces or performing culinary tricks to dazzle patrons.
She followed her nose until she found herself before a stall manned by a charismatic Twi'lek and a red-skinned Zeltron. She couldn't pronounce their special, nor did she question the ingredients, but it smelled delicious. Sid assured her it was a vegetable dish fit for human consumption.
The Zeltron female winked at Yska as she handed her a steaming bowl. The contents were neon purple, similar to red cabbage, dotted with round black specks that looked like caviar, and sprinkled with orange diced vegetables.
She found a quiet place to sit in the sun near a bubbling fountain - trying not to wince with the motion - tucking into the colorful cuisine. She moaned the second it touched her tongue. It was so delectable that it made her forget about her sore rump. The ingredients were slathered in a pink sauce that was both tangy and sweet. The purple stuff was the consistency of noodles and the black specks burst with a satisfying citrus undertone. It managed to be both hearty and light. Yska hadn't tasted anything so good, since….
Not since Mom.
"Hey, Sid? Can you please analyze this dish to recreate later?"
"Certainly, Yska," Sid chirped, his blue light scanner roving over the dish.
Her belly full, she and Sid returned to the ship like triumphant hunters, arms full of spoils.
Yska was actually…happy. Happier than she'd been in a long time.
Until she saw him.
Waiting for her at the mouth of the Mandalorian's ship.
Dex.
To be continued….
YES, I do plan to continue this, but my original paranormal romance book takes precedence (aiming for a 2024 publish date, follow my socials if you want to join my ARC team!)
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Original - 3865 words
Revised 7/17/23 - 6485 words