Master Apprentice Archive Confessions of a Dream Whore Quick search:

Rating: NC-17

Archive: M-A and Master Jac's

Series: I make no claims one way or another

Categories: Q/O, AR/AU (?) first-time (?), POV (Q), kink

Feedback: Yes, please.

Summary: Knight Kenobi gets himself a prostitute.

Spoilers/Warnings: This Qui-Gon is a little coarser than my normal fare. Control play.

Disclaimers: Someday I intend to use my own beloved, beautiful characters to write for fame, fortune and glory. Today is not that day.

Notes: For Master Ruth, for the whore!Qui bunny. Bit me hard enough to draw blood, it did.

/..../ thoughts, [....] journal entry.

[I was deepthroating a client on a ramp corner when the Jedi passed us, paused, and came back.

My customer immediately pushed my head down, like he was staking some kind of claim on me. Ah well, he'd paid for the time. Accommodating him, I made a noise and swallowed him to the base, working my throat until he came explosively. His hands relaxed in my hair and he slumped against the wall, grunting.

I immediately rose, wiping the corner of my mouth with the heel of one hand, then I bent and brushed the dirt from my knees.

"Thanks," he said, smirking at me. I raised my eyebrow and patted the pocket with his credits stowed inside, then turned away, dismissing him.

The Jedi was standing a little way off, watching me in the half-blue lamplight. He was in full uniform, probably armed, but he'd just watched me finish off a customer. What was he doing here if he didn't want service? I sauntered toward him slowly, my boot heels echoing on the empty walkways until the sound ricocheted down into the lower levels.

"Do something for you?" I invited. I curled my hand around the edge of my cloak and pulled it aside, resting my fist on my hip. I shifted a little, showing him my body, covered in sleek brown leather. It struck me that it wouldn't be such a hardship to service him. He had medium-length brownish hair, smooth, even features, a light beard... very nice. Well kept, you could say. Not all Jedi are so pretty. He looked to be in his late twenties.

"How much?"

I knew it didn't matter how much. He was staring at me hungrily and failing to hide it. "Depends on what you want. If it's comfortable, it'll cost less." I hiked a thumb back at where I'd just finished the last one. "That'll run you."

I saw his eyes narrow. Probably he found that distasteful. Good; I didn't want to do another blowjob on the street.

"How much for the night then? All of it," he added, indicating me with a sweep of his hand. "Bed, shower..." He trailed off, trying to sound enticing I'm sure.

"Two hundred."

He nodded. "Fine." He turned on his heel and strode away.

I glared at his back for a few seconds before I began to follow him, catching up easily. "Up front," I told him, in case he had any ideas about putting me off, but I was already sizing him up, figuring out angles and positions. He had a nice sway to him, that was certain.

"Fine," he tossed over his shoulder. "Two hundred, up front." He turned down a street and headed for a shuttle stand.

Well, wasn't he a charmer.

We rode to his rented rooms in silence. When we got there, he took me up a lift and to a suite that contained nothing in the way of baggage or belongings. He turned to me immediately, shucked his robe and hung it on a stand, then began to tug off his clothes, watching me the whole time.

"Up front," I reminded him, and a credit chip hit me in the chest. I caught it and tested it on the belt unit I carried.

"Nice," I said, noting the balance. I deducted my two hundred and tossed the chip onto the pile of clothes he was making, folding one piece at a time. "How do you want it?"

He stood before me naked as though hiring whores was something he did all the time. He cocked one hip out and put a hand on it, thinking. His penis slowly grew, twitching and stretching. It went from flaccid to rock hard even as he stood there considering his wants.

He waited a moment, idly stroking himself. I began to undress, growing hard in spite of the fact that this was not a new scenario. I sell myself to beautiful people all the time. Who was he?

"I want it like you're starved for me," he said quietly. "I want to be branded. I want you to take me like you can't stand the idea that I might get away."

I kept my expression plain. "Lover back home to make jealous?" I asked dryly.

"That's none of your business," he snapped. "I've paid you, now do it." He turned and strode to the bed, standing at the end of it.

I raised an eyebrow and finished undressing, focusing on the motivation. Starved for him, hm? I could pretend to be starved for him: it wouldn't be that hard. He was sleekly chiseled and he knew it, and he smelled of arrogance. I liked him a lot.

I straightened, standing in front of him naked in the foyer. We faced off, sizing each other up. I could see him calculating positions just as I'd done. After a few moments, I took a breath, closed my eyes, and slipped into the role he wanted me to play.

When I opened my eyes, I was exactly who he wanted. I knew it. I could have been anyone, but I'd decided to be myself.

"Who've you been with?" I growled, surprising both of us.

He tipped his chin up. "No one," he said, a trace of defiance in his voice, and I was pleased that he was prepared to hold his own. His bright green eyes sparkled with heat.

"Yeah?" I advanced on him, sinking myself into the game easily-- too easily. "What's that on your throat, then?"

He raised his fingers to the side of his neck where a small bite mark had faded pale but said nothing, holding his ground as I stalked toward him. When I stopped in front of him, cupping his face in my hands, he held still, though I could tell he was fighting himself. I looked into his eyes and saw plainly that he'd never really been claimed before. Not like this. It was almost too easy.

His face was delicate in spite of the beard; it made him look older but did not hide his almost elfin features. My hands were huge on him, my fingertips stroking his temples and then sliding into his hair.

He made a small noise as I stared. I don't think he expected my ardor. I don't think I did, either.

I kissed him then, devouring, out of character for me but right for the time. He whimpered and a flash-flood of lust shot straight to my gut. Instantly, I felt like I was a hair's breadth from biting him or sinking my fingers into his hair and gripping painfully.

/Too soon./ I warned myself, and focused.

I raised my mouth from his, feeling the hot dampness between us for a moment before I couldn't help myself any longer: I tipped my head to the side and clamped down on his neck, eliciting a yelp. I sucked on that spot, that just-healing place where he'd already been marked by someone else. There. I drew at it until he was grinding against me and gasping, clutching at my back. I raised my head, inspecting it.

"Nice," I purred. "You mark so easily. I can see why he wants to keep you around."

He went perfectly still, stiffening under the suggestion, so I kissed him again. He was easy to read. Whether he wanted to forget or be reminded didn't matter: he'd be fun to work.

The kiss was endless. Even I didn't know where it came from. It was a hot, breathless thing that grew between us until we were scrambling against each other. I lifted him up by the thighs and he wrapped his arms and legs around me, moaning helplessly. Oh, I had him. I utterly, completely had him.

And then I realized I was starving, and I did want to take him because I couldn't stand the thought of him getting away.

I leaned forward and extended one arm, holding him to me as I descended onto the bed. We landed roughly but he didn't care. He kept kissing me until I broke it, raising my head to look at him.

"Who do you belong to?"

He opened his mouth, staring at me. His eyes were so green, so bright, and I needed his claim then as much as he needed mine. Oh, technically I had been claimed already: he'd paid me. But I wanted more.

"Who?" I demanded, shifting against him so that our cocks slid roughly together.

"You," he choked out.

I kissed him again, pressing him down into the mattress with my body. He was so much smaller than me, so hot and so needy, pressing up against me as much as he could, groaning into my mouth. He was shivering under me, surrendering and demanding all at once. His mouth was restless, and his body would have been had I not pressed down over him so heavily. His feet and calves were sliding along my legs, trying to pull me closer. If he'd managed it I would have been inside him.

Why wasn't I?

"I hope you have something handy," I warned in a low growl. "I'm ready now, and I'm not going to wait longer for you than I already have."

He sighed and shivered, and it was beautiful. I had him on a fracture line of fear and excitement. Whoever normally occupied this role in his life had never put him there before, and the idea made me throb because he had me there, too.

Who was he?

"There," he said. He flung an arm up and pointed. There was a small table by the bed, and it had a bottle of lubricant and a sheath on it. Immediately he did something-- something Jedi-- and brought one to his hand. I snatched it from him, levering myself up over him.

"Over," I ordered, and he was turning under me, struggling to get onto his knees. I slicked my hand and pressed inside him, kissing roughly and then biting at his lower back. He moaned, then bucked against me as I struck his prostate.

"He does this, doesn't he?" I asked, out of role or in it, I didn't know anymore, and I didn't care. I was starved. I found that place and pressed it hard, and he gasped and shrieked.

"Yes!"

I pulled out, then pushed in two. "And that."

He nodded, biting his lip, rocking back onto my hand. I stroked his taut balls with my thumb, watching him.

Whoever he was, he was hot with adrenaline and need. His moans turned to bitten-off cries, wasted in the blankets as I thrust in with three fingers, shuddering with my own need for release. Gods, I wanted him. I needed him.

Who was he??

Abruptly I removed my hand, shaking as I applied the sheath. He was moaning and pleading, "Now, don't wait... now, please..."

I used one hand to grip his hot, smooth cock. He bucked against me and I thrust, driving home quickly. He released a noise that was part pain and part greed. I pressed myself over his back, breathing against his neck.

"You wanted this," I reminded him. "You wanted to be taken like this, and now you've got it." I thrust, barely a hint of movement, and he shuddered as I stroked him in my fist, sliding my fingers over his head.

He nodded silently. I thrust again, gripping his hip as my other hand stroked him. He turned his face to the side and rested on his shoulders, his cheek against the pillow, his hands holding fistfuls of it. He was slick with sweat, his mouth half-open, his eyes half-closed, and the noises that erupted from him sent me over.

I howled something that might have been "Mine" as I came, unaware of who I was or why I was there other than because he was. I sank myself into him wholly, pulsing as he shrieked into the linens, clutching them as he had clutched me.

When I withdrew, I was sorry it was over.]

"Oh, Qui-Gon," I sighed as I put the journal aside, smiling. "It's beautiful. You captured it perfectly-- everything. Every detail." And he had; that night we'd played those roles was recorded splendidly in his broad writing for as long as we cared to read it.

He smiled back at me, pleased with himself. "Thank you, Obi-Wan," he said quietly, and I rolled over, slinging one leg atop his and them moving over him, pinning him to the bed by the hips and shoulders.

I sank my hands into his hair and combed them through, and he groaned softly and closed his eyes in that expression of possessed pleasure he knew I loved.

"And the client on the corner?" I whispered, leaning down to caress his cheek with mine. He nodded, shivering. "It was a nice touch," I praised softly, and he sighed. I rose a bit, smiling, combing my fingers through his hair as I added, "If he wasn't fictional I'd have to skin you both alive."

End.