The Akkadian is spanked.

Trimon moved swiftly for a large man, his combat reflexes as a warrior clear to the Akkadian. As the assassin attempted to scramble off the bed he he felt a strong fist grasp his flowing long black hair. He heard himself scream, the sound shrill and angry as his own momentum wrenched at the roots.

"Yes indeed amends must be made." Trimon declared. "A lesson for you to remind you of your place. A whore throwing a hissy fit to a master deserves chastising."

The warlord took a seat on the edge of the bed, grabbing the assassin's wrist he hauled the small female form over his knees. Belly down across the warlord's lap the Akkadian writhed desperately, but the fist gripping his long hair **** his head down and squirm and kick as he might he was held firmly. As his hips bucked and wriggled he felt his wrist released and instead grip the thin belt of his silky loincloth. Trimon yanked hard and after a momentary resistance the belt snapped and the loincloth was ripped from his body.

"Ahhh, what a pretty sight." Trimon chuckled staring down at the twin pertly rounded bronze globes of the transformed warriors buttocks bouncing and wriggling.

The Akkadian realised with horror what the warlord intended, he had often delivered similar chastisement to the women he encountered when they vexed him. Whores and sluts for the most part had felt his palm, but on occasion he had tamed female adventurers, thieves and villains with a sound spanking.

"Noooo, please don't." The Akkadian cried out, loathing the high pitched womanly fear he could discern in his pleas.

"A little late for begging Minaja." Trimon chuckled. "Fitting you should be punished like a child for your childish temper tantrum."

The warlord's declaration was immediately followed by the loud thwack as his large hard palm descended on the Akkadian's wriggling behind. Heat and pain flared through the assassin's buttock and he cried out loudly in a mixture of pain and indignation. His hips bucked, his bottom bouncing on Trimon's lap. The Akkadian **** himself to stifle the scream, clapping his small hand to his mouth. The first blow of Trimon's palm was quickly followed by another and the warlord settled into a steady rhythem of smacks alternating between the taut round cheeks with each strike.

"Aha a fine glow to a slut's backside is a thing of beauty." The brute chortled.

The Akkadian clasped a second hand to his mouth to silence his girlish cries. Used to pain and wounds from his career the assassin attempted to employ a method that had helped him ignore pain in the past. He focussed instead on pleasurable moments of his past. For the Akkadian this invariably meant remembering women he had fucked. As images of himself ploughing various women came to his mind's eye the staccato sound of slaps upon his bottom intruded on his reverie. Each time he tried to focus on his former self his memories invariably drifted to occasions when he had been in Trimon's current position with a girl writhing on his lap and her bottom glowing redly.

"Minaja, you delicious little slut." Trimon's amused loud voice, wrenched the Akkadian's focus back to the present. "I swear you are enjoying yourself too much. I can feel the juice leaking from your cunt soaking my lap. The Akkadian realised with shock he had indeed become aroused recalling the times he had spanked women. His unfamiliar sex felt hot and moist and he could feel drops of feminine nectar dribbling out and over his depilated cunt.