Summary: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan must mold themselves to the
customs of a most unusual culture for a formal event on
Coruscant.
Warnings: Gets a bit rough...
Archive: Sure, I have no shame! M/A only for now. Email me if
you want it for another site. I'm easy!
Notes: This is a (belated, as always with me) response to Mac's
first-line challenge, and the bunny became very insistent when
it found out I was working on something long and complicated.
Those bunnies always have to break my train of thought at the
worst times! I hope you enjoy my little piece of weirdness!
" Obi-Wan, no one is going to believe that we're lovers! "
Qui-Gon almost whined as he donned the second silky, deep red
stocking which would encase his long, hairless legs.
Obi-Wan barely suppressed a grin. "No one on Coruscant will,
but to the TamiFayze, we'll look like the incarnation of the
sex gods that we are, right Master?" A tightly controlled wry
look fell over the Padawan's features. "Tell me again why we
have to do this, because I'm not convinced to the extent I will
need to be in order to don 12 layers of striped fur and do a
little dance with my whore of a Master..."
Qui-Gon's expression did not reflect appreciation of the humor
that Obi-Wan's statement was intended to convey. He glared
through thickly kohl-rimmed eyes, as he carefully applied three
circles of green glitter makeup on each cheek. "Padawan, you do
realize that the TamiFayze are important candidates for Senate
membership from the planet Miskara, and that this event will
show them just how much or little respect the Jedi and
Coruscant as a whole has for them. And you realize that if we
do not dress in this way for the ritual dance, the TamiFayze
will believe that we are not mated, and will be well within
their rights to claim us individually for their sexual use on
the night of the banquet. "
Obi-Wan puzzled a bit. "But, Master, we ARE mated! Why do we
have to put on the show?"
"Because, my pretty Padawan, the TamiFayze, despite their
cosmopolitan front, are decidedly prejudiced against the
practices of other planetary cultures or orders and have
insisted that this event be held with all in attendance dressed
in the Miskaran style. " As he spoke, Qui-Gon carefully applied
a daub of glue over his eyebrows to which he affixed several
wispy pink feathers.
"Besides, Obi-Wan, don't you want to see Yoda in a slinky
purple dress?" Qui-Gon's eyes twinkled with what wry humor he
could manage. His lips curled up involuntarily as he watched
the full-fledged grin break out on Obi-Wan's face.
"I suppose that could be something amusing to tell my own
Padawan years down the road. But will it be enough to
overshadow your breathtaking ensemble, Master?" Obi-Wan held up
a hangar containing a long satiny red sheath dress that was to
hold his Master's sequoia-like body.
"Give me that, Padawan. You need to be getting prepared
yourself, don't you?" Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows as he hefted
what appeared to be a large ball of fur from the bed and tossed
it into his padawan's center of mass, actually driving the
younger man back several paces.
Obi-Wan glared at his master and dropped the mass of fur. It
fell in waves around him as the individual layers resolved
themselves. The young man began to wiggle out of his Jedi
tunics, as he watched his master wiggling into the tight red
dress.
Two hours later:
Qui-Gon gingerly extended his carefully manicured hand to the
waddling ball of fur who escorted him. The Jedi Master
resembled nothing so much as an expensive lower level Coruscant
whore to the furtive gazes of the padawans and knights who
peopled the corridors of the Temple.
Obi-Wan was a stark contrast to his master. He wore no
adornments, save for the layer upon layer of striped furs which
were so bulky that the padawan could not lower his arms.
"Master, I feel like a bloated flarnberry! This is utterly
humiliating, even for diplomatic work."
"Think of it as a lesson, Padawan. Concentrate on pulling the
Force in around you so you pass unnoticed through the crowd. "
Qui-Gon inadvertently batted his glitter-bedecked eyelashes at
Obi-Wan, who groaned and started forward again, his mouth
deliberately held slightly open so that he would not clench his
teeth.
The gala ballroom was a short ride from the Temple in reality,
but in bright red spike heels and a four foot tall feathered
headdress, the trip took several eternities. Qui-Gon breathed
slowly and deliberately, not only to shut out the rude thoughts
and stares of the younger Jedi and passersby, but also to keep
the headdress from skewing itself on his head as it lightly
brushed the ceilings in the residential parts of the Temple.
Finally, they reached their transport on the East Platform. It
was a very large cab, twice the size of the others which
swirled thickly around the landing pad. Must be for the
headdress Qui-Gon thought. It needs a cab of its own, I
think.
He balanced himself and strode into the regally large cab, and
his padawan waddled in after him. Both sat heavily in the plush
seats and let out twins breaths of relief.
The TamiFayze were an odd species, sharing much in common
physiologically with the insects of the Core Worlds. The
females were much larger than the males of the species, and
more dominant in affect. Average women of the TamiFayze were
around two standard meters tall.
The men were small, grayish creatures, averaging only
one-and-a-half meters. They tended to puff themselves up by
killing large furry creatures and draping the furs around them
in layers. The males often ended up looking like literal balls
of fur, if they were ostentatious enough.
When Master Jedi Qui-Gon Jinn and his padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi
debarked from their transport, they felt as if they had stepped
onto another planet, when in fact they had only traveled about
a kilometer. The Senate's ballroom foyer was unrecognizable.
Every square centimeter was covered in bright red feathers
which matched those on Qui-Gon's head.
The beings milling about here were dressed similarly to Qui-Gon
and Obi-Wan, except slightly less ostentatiously. The two mated
Jedi were the main attraction it seemed. A large hooded furball
approached them.
"Qui-Gon! Glad you could make it, and what a stunning sight, I
might add!" Mace Windu wore only three or four fur robes, a
token show for the TamiFayze. None of the other Jedi present
were dressed anything like Qui-Gon. It appeared that Qui-Gon
was the peacock among the pigeons at this gathering.
"Hello, Mace. You know, Mace, we were given a wide latitude on
this dance thing. No one really told us what exactly it
entailed, except that it must incorporate both of us in an
interactive way. " Qui-Gon peered down at the furry bald Jedi
Master. Mace merely nodded.
"Obi-Wan and I chose a slow kata from the empty hand
repertoire. It's more like grappling, but with effort we could
add some graceful rolls or something like that. However, the
costumes will pose a slight problem. They are unwieldy, and I
am afraid our dance will be made to look slightly, uh,
inelegant as a result."
Mace looked Qui-Gon in the eye and quietly began," The
TamiFayze do not expect grace; they expect to see a show not
unlike that put on by the strippers in sleazy Coruscant bars.
At least that's what the translator has told me. You and your
Padawan will play out a mating scene ritual to the TamiFayze.
"Qui-Gon, you will, uh, preen a bit and show off your charms to
the assembled dignitaries, and Obi-Wan will perform a series of
dances to attract your attention and win your favor. If he has
your favor, you will remove an article of clothing and Obi-Wan
will remove a layer of fur. The object, at least on Miskara, is
for the male to have fast furious sex with the female while she
is distracted with his dance. Then the male retreats before the
female strikes at him and kills him. At least this is the model
we were given. I'm sorry we didn't get this information
sooner." Mace looked from the flamboyant master to the fuzzy
padawan, locking eyes with each.
"I'm sure you are both up to the challenge." With a hint of a
smile, Mace turned and strode toward the ballroom entrance. By
that time, the various brightly colored females had already
entered, and the furry males trickled in around the receding
Jedi Master. Mace faded into the mass of pelted figures.
Qui-Gon turned sharply to his Padawan and laid his hands on the
younger man's round fur-enhanced shoulders. "Obi-Wan, I think
we'll use the simple Gyreachean kata for ease of movement.
There are ten of them, and that will be enough to appease them,
I think."
Obi-Wan opened his mouth and scowled at his master. "So, do we
have to mate in front of them? I don't think I can do that with
the whole Jedi Council and many dignified members of the Senate
watching!"
Obi-Wan's face was turning pink, slowly darkening to match the
shade of Qui-Gon's feathers.
"I don't know, Obi-Wan. But we had better find out, and soon."
The two made their way into a side entrance, where they would
wait until they were called for their performance. The room was
darkened and quiet. They could hear everything happening in the
main ballroom.
It was mainly speeches, but they were punctuated by wailing
sounds, almost like a particularly pathetic creature's cries of
anguish. Both Jedi wore frowns of utter bewilderment.
"That is a ritual affirmation, in case you are wondering." A
small gray figure emerged from the shadowed walls of the room.
Neither Jedi had sensed him. He must have been well-shielded.
His garb was similar to Obi-Wan's, except much less bulky.
"I am Bakir, your familiarizer, or how do you say...coach. You
will perform according to what I tell you. This is a very
delicate ritual, and it dates back to the times when our people
lived separately, men among men and women among women. This
dance symbolizes for us the joining of our race, its
completion. Therefore, you start apart and finish together."
Qui-Gon stared down at the gray figure, who continued. "You
know of the shedding of your garments according to the stages
of arousal between male and female. You are mates, so the
joining will be natural for you. After you have mated, the
TamiFayze in attendance will cry ritually and grab an available
mate to personalize the ritual for each of them. Do you
understand?
"Since you are a mated pair, you will not be separated, but you
must mate to end the dance."
Obi-Wan's mouth gaped open in undisguised astonishment. His
wide eyes met his master's and he could do nothing but gasp in
disbelief. Qui-Gon met his padawan's eyes, but the look was
much different. It was serenity in the face of high weirdness;
Qui-Gon seemed to take it in stride.
"Well, Obi-Wan, can you do in public what you do in private?
After all, it is in the name of good diplomacy." Qui-Gon winked
at his red-faced padawan, who merely stood with his jaw hanging
open.
"Don't think about THEM. Focus only on me. Do the Gyreachean
kata, and shed those furs and focus on our bond. It is an
exercise, if you will."
The TamiFayze gestured to a small goblet sitting on the table
beside him. "Young Jedi, you must drink this ritual wine before
you begin your ritual hunt. It is part of the ceremony, you
know."
Obi-Wan approached the table, lifted the glass and studied it.
He smelled it, dipped his finger in it, did everything except
drink it.
" I think you'll have to drink it, Padawan, so stop playing
with it. Mace told me about the ritual wine. It's just wine,
Obi-Wan. You've had wine before, right?" Qui-Gon winked again
at his padawan, who sniffed the glass one last time before
downing it.
The two Jedi begged privacy of the small TamiFayze male and
prepared themselves.
A tall female stood alone in the middle of the ballroom. A
single spotlight played at the voluminous feathers she wore
atop her head. Thick kohl ran down her pale face as she cried
the ritual of Miskara. Then with a deft wave of her hand and
expansive pirouette, she called the two Jedi onto the floor.
The spotlight left her and caught a long gliding figure
striding from the side of the ballroom. Qui-Gon walked with
deliberate slink; his hips thrust forward as waves on the
ocean, fading and reasserting themselves as he approached
center stage. There, he stood motionless, his face serene, his
eyes focused on nothing. He was the picture of quiet grace.
After a short interval, during which much quiet sobbing ensued
from the male half of the room, a considerably shorter, more
clumsy figure made its way into the center of the room. Obi-Wan
took small steps, circling the impassive Qui-Gon, beginning a
stretching kata. The furs made the movement difficult and
Obi-Wan barely succeeded in making the moves appear in any way
like a dance.
One ten centimeter high heel shoe flew into the air, kicked out
in perfect still grace by the imperious Qui-Gon. The Jedi
Master was actually sticking his nose in the air, pointedly
disdaining the awkward furball which now began a series of slow
rolls and stances after shedding one bulky layer.
Qui-Gon stood hip-shot, one foot quite a bit lower than the
other, his hands on his hips, lips pursed, evaluating the
steadily moving furry creature which danced around him so
charmingly.
After Obi-Wan had shed six more layers of fur robe, the kata
began to look more like the martial arts they were. He flipped
in a graceful Force-assisted arc over Qui-Gon's headdress,
which was one of the few things the older Jedi still wore. The
kohl eyeliner smudged around his eyes, which smoked with the
fire in his body. There were no dignitaries in Qui-Gon's view,
only his beautiful dancing padawan.
Obi-Wan's body shone with a sheen of perspiration. The final
fur robe was flung from his shoulders, and he was on Qui-Gon in
an instant. The headdress flew unceremoniously off the Jedi
Master's head and into the crowd of TamiFayze, who gasped and
cried with the beautiful savagery of it.
Obi-Wan mauled Qui-Gon, advancing out of the dance and into a
quick predatory attack. Qui-Gon fell hard onto the velvet
floor, taken down suddenly. The sweat poured off Obi-Wan,
although he was now completely naked. He stretched his master
beneath him and pressed himself down on top of him, pushing
into his flesh, devouring his master's mouth desperately.
Qui-Gon did not move; he surrendered control to his padawan,
who now roughly disengaged and stood. Qui-Gon lay stretched on
the floor, his rock hard penis the tallest thing about him now.
Obi-Wan straddled him, casting a ferocious gaze downward at his
prey. Quick as the Force, Obi-Wan turned his master and sat
upon him, thrusting his sweat-lubricated fingers into Qui-Gon's
ass, leaning closer in with every push.
Obi-Wan breathed hard and fast; he was lost in the rage of
claiming. He fell upon Qui-Gon, grasping his hips and pulling
the older Jedi around his painfully hard penis.
Qui-Gon jerked roughly up from the floor and cried out, losing
the calm facade that had been with him. His gasps rose in
intensity, matching those of his passion-maddened padawan. His
own penis was ground into the velvet floor; the sensation was
at once painful and unbearably wonderful.
Above him, Obi-Wan fell in and out of him, mindlessly
thrusting, his eyes shut, his mouth open to admit the air he
craved. Involuntary spasms began to mix with his savage shouts
as Obi-Wan neared his release.
A bubble burst inside Obi-Wan and his blood-engorged member
expanded within Qui-Gon. A sudden burst of electricity hit
Qui-Gon's prostate and radiated back into his crazed padawan.
Qui-Gon screamed with unrestrainable pleasure, drowning out the
now-spent Obi-Wan, who collapsed across his back, shaking and
gasping.
The two Jedi lay in a puddle in the center of the ballroom,
motionless except for a gentle heave of their shoulders as they
caught their breaths. About three seconds later, the silence
was shattered by hundreds of screaming and crying TamiFayze,
echoing their lust and passion throughout the hall. The kohl
ran thick and fast as chaos ensued. The males set upon the
females all at once. The Senators and Jedi Councilmembers who
were witness to this wisely pulled back into the corners of the
large room.
Mace Windu broke away and shook the pair of passion-besotted
Jedi who still lay in the middle of the room, in danger of
being trampled by the rutting TamiFayze. He peeled Obi-Wan off
of Qui-Gon and wrapped one of many fur robes around him. He
then did the same for Qui-Gon, and they quickly but unsteadily
made their exit.
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