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Not So Much a Flavor as a Color: Pink

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Soon after I began my time as the protector of the Spare Prince of Eab Nanoorn, he asked something of me that my Jedi training had not prepared me for.

We were spending an afternoon avoiding any potential danger by remaining in the Prince's rooms. Tangled in sheets, flushed, he looked over his shoulder at me as I was gently stroking his ass.

"Spank me!"

"What?" I sat back on the mattress, suddenly completely at a loss.

"Spank me. Spank me pleeeeease." This last, in a voice not unlike that of a spoiled child.

"Are you... You're asking me to... hit you?"

"Mmmm. Yes." He wriggled a little, getting up onto his knees and elbows. "Spank me!"

"What in all the worlds..."

He rolled over into a sitting position, a look on his face that was quickly becoming familiar: the Kourt-doesn't-know-anything look. It was somewhere between exasperation and amazement.

"You've never spanked anyone in bed."

"Of course not. People don't do that where I..."

"Jedi don't spank." A blond eyebrow raised over a twinkling blue eye.

"I think that goes without saying, your Majesty."

"Jedi don't spank." Blaine giggled.

"We are primarily a monastic order."

Blaine fell over, making an alarming choking sound that I was genuinely relieved to hear resolve itself into laughter.

"So. You know what every Jedi does in bed, or wherever, and not a single one of them spanks. They've TOLD you this."

"Well, I mean, I assume nobody..."

"Kourt, I'm willing to bet that a lot of Jedi at that Temple of yours... I mean, gods of all sizes, the WEAPONS you people carry around.... Well. Spanking." He got the faraway look in his eye that I'd noticed when he was talking about sex toys, or pastry.

"But you LIKE it? Is there something... Blaine, you weren't -- beaten when you were a child, were you?" Somebody clearly needed killing, if this were the case. Not quick killing, but long, drawn-out, impressive-example-to-others killing. Which, unlike spanking, I was entirely prepared to do.

Blaine laughed out loud at this, rolling around on his back on the bed like a fundle-cub.

"Oh gods, Kourt, as if anyone would ever have gotten away with that... I got lectures, and I think once I had to wear a hat that was in questionable taste, but nobody HIT me! Could I possibly be this... Oh, no, believe me, no!" And at that point there was nothing to be done but to wait for him to get finished with his laughing.

"Blaine," I began again, as patiently as possible, "I can kill people, all kinds of ways. It's what I do. I can also not kill people, I can take them down, question them, what have you. But I just don't think I can... deliberately hurt someone. Who I... who I'm supposed to be protecting. Like you."

Blaine just smiled. He took my right hand, turned it over, looked at the palm.

"You know, I think you could be good at this."

 

He arranged himself on the bed, on his knees: his head was turned to the side, resting on his folded arms; his ass was up, poised, on display like a prize peach. I knelt behind him, to the side, feeling self-conscious.

"Just pet me. Mmm, yes..." Skies, as if I could ever tire of stroking his bottom, the way each smooth cheek fit my hand.

"And now give me a spank."

A deep breath... remember, Kourt, classically trained assassin, vast knowledge of the varieties of the battle-mace, expertise with blades both wielded and thrown -- but you're a professional, so go easy. The last thing you want to do is actually harm the boy. I drew back my right hand and gave his right buttock a bit of a smack.

A deep, aggrieved sigh, as Blaine sat up and looked back over his shoulder.

"Kourt, were you maybe trying to nudge a fluffsy off the sitting-room divan? I mean, SPANK me!"

"But I don't want to hurt you --"

"You're not GOING to hurt me!"

"I'm bigger than you, and I can kill people with my bare hands!"

"That may be so, but you can't spank people worth a tenth-cred." A giggle, muffled against a pillow. "What are they teaching Jedi these days?"

"Plenty!" I began to feel vaguely ridiculous, and thus irritated. Blaine returned to his ass-up position.

"OK, we're going to try this again. Pull your hand back, then a nice big spank."

"I don't want to hurt --"

"You're not hurting me. You're doing what I want. You're doing what feels really, really good. You're doing what half of Eab Nanoorn has done on a regular basis for the last eight years."

"But I could actually hurt you --"

Blaine gave an exasperated sigh. "Well, hells, Kourt, I suppose I can do without if you're AFRAID to..."

SMACK. A ringing swat, and a clear bright-pink handprint. It had never occurred to me that I'd feel the sting in my palm, or that Blaine would moan in what was clearly bliss after his surprised yelp.

"Oh, yeahhh." A newly sultry voice from Blaine, more a groan of pleasure. "Now the other side."

Oh, I could do that, make that handprint symmetrical, just to hear him make that sound again. Just to hear how the sound changed over the course of time, grew more urgent; just to see how the cheeks of his ass grew reddened and more rounded; just to observe his slightly curved cock filling and hardening as proof that, yes, the endlessly surprising Spare Prince of Eab Nanoorn really did like this.

Of course, his continuing gasps for more were probably proof enough, even without the waves of intense pleasure he was broadcasting. Especially when they were followed by his insistence that I fuck him.

That I could do. I had a good hard cock ready for him, and I took hold of his shoulders and plunged into him, knowing he was still oiled from the last time I'd been inside him. Slick inside, and tighter than ever, almost too tight -- I'd have thought, even if the spanking didn't hurt, that this must be hurting him -- but he thrust back against me hungrily, frantically. The skin of his ass against my groin was so hot it almost burned me.

"Hard, hard, hard..." groans almost of pain but I gave it to him, and he came suddenly and violently, screaming, shuddering. When he lay, trembling, face-down on the sheets, I withdrew and lay beside him, stroking his shoulders as he recovered.

After a while, he turned toward me, eyes gradually focusing.

"You know, I have some really cool floggers in the box at the end of the bed."

To be a Jedi is to learn.