Master
Apprentice  Archive
Deliver Me
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"Ah, Obi-Wan, there you are. But why are you hiding over here in the corner when you should be mingling with the guests?"
The young Jedi was looking decidedly uncomfortable. He leaned, or rather slumped, against a wall as far away from the partygoers as he could get, his hands folded in front of him and hidden by the sleeves of his robe. "Ordinarily I would be, Master," he told Qui-Gon in a hushed voice, glancing warily at a couple as they passed by. "But there is a problem."
Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows questioningly. "A problem?"
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan was still sweeping the room with his eyes, apparently afraid of being overheard. He leaned slightly closer to the older Jedi and lowered his voice even more. "With the present you gave me."
"Ah." Now it was Qui-Gon's turn to eye those around them, although he did so less obviously than his apprentice. "Are you wearing it?" he asked in the same low voice.
"Yes. And therein lies the problem."
Qui-Gon tipped his head slightly to one side and gazed at Obi- Wan. "And what problem would that be?" Then his eyes narrowed. "Obi- Wan, it's not painful, is it?"
"No, Master. Not painful."
"Good. Because it's supposed to be ---" He broke off and smiled pleasantly as one of the foreign emissaries passed by. "It's supposed to be stimulating," he concluded when it was again safe to talk.
"As I said, therein lies the problem. It is too stimulating." After a quick glance to be certain no one but his Master was looking, he drew his hands apart for a moment, long enough for Qui-Gon's gaze to drop to the tented front of his robes. He replaced his hands just as quickly.
Qui-Gon fought to keep the amusement off his face. "Ah. I see your point, Obi-Wan."
The apprentice glowered at him darkly. "I'm glad you find it so amusing, Master. I doubt that anyone else will. We have to do something. I can't walk around like this all night."
"What do you suggest?"
"That we go somewhere private and I allow you to remove it."
"You know, you needn't have waited for me to finish my meeting, which went quite well, by the way, thank you for asking. You could have taken care of this problem by yourself."
Obi-Wan shot him a sly, sideways glance. "Where would be the fun in that? Besides, this is all your fault. If you hadn't insisted I wear this thing . . ."
"I know how dull these official gatherings can be," Qui-Gon said in his own defense. "I was merely trying to deliver you from the inherent boredom of the evening."
"And to make sure I was ready to jump your bones at the first opportunity. Don't try to make it sound like you did this all for me. Because I'm not buying it."
Qui-Gon nodded as solemnly as he could under the circumstances, though the corners of his mouth twitched suspiciously. "And if we do as you suggest, how soon do you suppose we will be able to come back? I should like to witness the ceremonies that are to take place in the next hour or so."
Obi-Wan looked up at him though half-lowered lashes and smiled wickedly. "Oh, I could possibly have you back in time for that." He ran the tip of his tongue slowly along the bottom edge of his front teeth.
Qui-Gon unconsciously moistened his lips, feeling a stirring as his own body reacted. He reached to slide his hand through his apprentice's arm. "Then by all means, we should adjourn to our rooms," he said as he led the young man off.
"Leaving so soon, Master Jinn?" the Armedian ambassador asked as they passed him.
"Only briefly," Qui-Gon assured him with a pleasant smile that hid the fire rising inside him. "My Padawan here has need of my services for a few minutes. We shall return shortly."
"Or not," Obi-Wan said when they were alone again, softly so that only his Master could hear. He glanced up at the older Jedi coyly. "And I wouldn't be so quick to promise such a speedy return if I were you. The service I require of you may take considerably longer than you anticipate."
Qui-Gon nodded politely at another ambassador as he ushered Obi-Wan through the door into the hallway. "Is that so?" he said out of the corner of his mouth.
"Oh, yes, my Master."
Now safely in the hall and away from prying eyes, Qui-Gon turned the full intensity of his gaze on his apprentice. "And why is that, Padawan?" he asked, his voice so deep and lusty that it sent a shiver of need through the younger man.
"Because, Master, I am feeling particularly willful tonight. I fear I may require punishment."
Qui-Gon released the arm he still held and clasped his hands in front of him, letting his sleeves hide his swelling erection. He kept his eyes straight ahead with difficulty. "What sort of punishment do you feel may be required?" he asked, finding it difficult to find the breath for it.
Obi-Wan shot him another of his sideways glances. "I believe I may need to be tied to the bed and tortured, Master. Or perhaps I should tie you down first. Would that earn me more punishment, do you think?"
The Jedi Master swallowed hard. "I believe that would be safe to say, Padawan. The punishment for such a daring act as that might be severe indeed. Forty strokes, perhaps."
"While tied down, I presume?"
"You presume correctly."
They both fell silent and smiled politely at a passing emissary, then made their way back to the rooms they shared, doing all they could to maintain an outward Jedi-like calm while still hurrying as much as possible. The door had scarcely closed behind them before Qui-Gon found himself mashed back against it, pinned in place by a desperate, writhing body. His mouth was captured and ravaged even as his robes were peeled away. Finally, needing to breathe, he caught his lover by the arms and pushed him away. He looked down into the passion-flushed face.
"I need you, Master," Obi-Wan gasped, struggling to press himself close again.
Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows. "So I can see." He forced himself not to chuckle at the young man's desperation. "If I'd have known that cock stimulator was going to work this well, I'd have gotten you one months ago." He leaned forward for a quick kiss, still holding Obi- Wan at arm's length. "Let's adjourn to the bedroom, shall we? I might as well be comfortable while I'm being ravaged."
The answering grin warmed his soul, and further hardened a certain section of his anatomy. Then, there was no time for more talk as he was dragged bodily into their room and tipped backwards onto the bed. Obi-Wan fell on top of him, his mouth finding Qui-Gon's freshly bared chest and tonguing it from neck to navel.
"Oh, Master . . ." Obi-Wan moaned as he struggled to untie the string on his Master's pants. A few moments and a few choice curses later, he succeeded, and Qui-Gon raised his hips so they could be pulled off.
"Padawan," the Jedi Master gasped, trying to keep his wits about him as his twenty-two-year-old lover took him into his mouth. "You're wearing way too many clothes."
Obi-Wan raised his head, his green eyes dark with desire. He grinned. "Yes, Master." With the enthusiasm of youth, he bounced to his feet and began throwing clothes off left and right.
Qui-Gon propped himself up on his elbows and merely watched. //You're beautiful, Obi-Wan// he sent along their link. //What did I ever do to deserve you?//
Obi-Wan only grinned in response as his last article of clothing hit the floor. His cock stood at attention, weeping at the tip and flushed nearly purple with engorged blood. Around its base pulsed the electric green cock ring that Qui-Gon had bought for him. Like a predatory cat, Obi-Wan stalked back to the bed, his eyes boring into Qui-Gon's in a manner that made the Master's blood boil and chill all at the same time. The young man growled low in his throat. //You, Qui- Gon Jinn. I want you. And I will have you --- now.// He flung himself onto his Master, mashing the larger body into the bed ---
--- and quickly found himself gazing upward into hungry blue eyes as Qui-Gon reversed their positions.
"Just who is going to have who, I wonder?" the Jedi Master said with a growl of his own. He caught his lover's wrists, pinned them to the bed next to his straining hips, and bent down to take the purple erection into his mouth.
"Yesssss . . ." Obi-Wan gasped, thrusting into that incredibly moist warmth. Qui-Gon relaxed his throat, taking in more and more until his teeth bumped the pulsing ring. Using his tongue, he slowly rotated it, grinning around his mouthful at the moan it caused. He worked his mouth over it, slowly, moving his head in time with his lover's thrusting so that Obi-Wan couldn't get the friction he wanted.
"Pleeeaaasssse . . ." Obi-Wan groaned as Qui-Gon began to drag the snuggly-fitting ring upward along the straining flesh. He continued until the ring --- and his mouth --- were right behind the cock head. Then he raised his head. "What do you need, my love?" he asked. "Tell me."
Obi-Wan was arching up off the bed incoherently now, trying to find a touch, any touch, desperate to come. "You, Qui-Gon!" he managed to say, his voice nothing but a throaty whisper. "Please!"
Qui-Gon grinned. "Your need ---" He kissed the straining tip just inches from his face. "--- is my command." He released Obi-Wan's hands and pulled himself up, until he was on his knees between the sweat-dampened thighs. He ran one fingertip through Obi-Wan's pre- cum, then slid the finger home, as far in as it would go. Obi-Wan gasped and moved beneath him, both hands grabbing onto the sheets with enough force to pull them half off the bed as he tried to push down onto that finger.
"Impatient, aren't you?" Qui-Gon teased with another grin.
Obi-Wan merely flashed him another brief smile and glanced rather pointedly at the straining erection just inches from his, poised and dripping with its own pre-cum.
"So, are you planning to do something with that," he asked, "or did you just plan to tease me with it all night, oh wise and wonderful Master?"
"I'll show you wise and wonderful," Qui-Gon growled, a rumbling sound that sent a thrill of anticipation through the younger man. He pulled his finger out, stifling the groan of disappointment it caused by capturing that luscious mouth again. Then he began a concentrated assault on the rest of his lover's body, beginning first along the jaw line then nibbling his way to the sensitive areas behind and below Obi-Wan's ears. He alternately licked and chewed on the skin there, relishing the way his Padawan writhed and panted under his assault. He worked his way up to an ear, feeling the long braid tickling his nose, and finally sucked the earlobe into his mouth, worrying it with his teeth. Supporting himself with one hand, he used the other to twist and tease one erect nipple.
"Not fair," Obi-Wan moaned into his mouth when Qui-Gon went in for another kiss. He raised up to gaze down into those lust-darkened green eyes.
"What?" he asked huskily.
"I said, my Master, that this isn't fair. You're half again as big as me, so using your weight to hold me down and torture me isn't fair. And if you don't get that Sith-spawned ring off of me I'm going to explode."
Qui-Gon grinned down at him like a hunting cat. "I believe that the whole theory behind the ring is to keep you from exploding, my love."
"Well, yes, but . . ."
"Besides, I believe you like being teased and tortured, don't you?" Without waiting for an answer, he latched onto that earlobe again, reveling in the feel of his sensuous young lover pressing his hips up against his own. "But, we probably should continue. After all, we did say we couldn't be gone too long, didn't we?"
Obi-Wan moaned at the reminder, then moaned again for an entirely different reason as Qui-Gon slid down his body until he was once again kneeling between the Padawan's trembling thighs. The Jedi Master ran his fingers through the dampness leaking from the head of his own cock and let his slippery fingers glide down between the cheeks of the smaller man's ass, feeling Obi-Wan arch up beneath him wantonly. He slid two fingers in this time, twisting them around until he found the spot he wanted.
"Ahhhh!" Obi-Wan shouted as waves of white-hot pleasure coursed through him. The purpled cock bobbed and strained against the restraining pressure of the cock ring, and Qui-Gon grinned down at his writhing apprentice, who was bucking under him, gasping and moaning for release.
"Qui-Gon, please!"
"Please what, my love?" the Master asked, his own need by now nearly overpowering.
"Take me!"
"With pleasure," Qui-Gon purred. Withdrawing his fingers, he pressed the tip of his cock to that tight little hole and pushed his way in. But he did it torturously slowly, knowing his lover needed it that way, feeling the tightness and the stretching and the slight burning pain through their bond.
"Would you hurry already?" Obi-Wan gasped after a few minutes of this delicious torture, trying to thrust downward to further impale himself. "Would you please hurry? Some of us are quite desperate here!"
Qui-Gon fought for control over his own body as he grinned and stopped all motion, holding his lover's hips down with the Force so that he could make no headway. He reached to give the Padawan braid a tug or two. "What seems to be the problem, my love? Am I going too slowly for you?"
"Gods, yes! You are killing me!" Obi-Wan said. He desperately tried to thrust upward against Qui-Gon's stomach but found himself pinned firmly to the bed. "Damn it to all the Sith hells, would you just fuck me?!"
"My, my, such language," his Master scolded him mildly. "But, if you insist . . ." And he thrust in all the way, hard, then began to stroke in and out, slowly at first and then faster and harder, watching the face beneath him contort with pleasure. When he felt his own control slipping, Qui-Gon wrapped his hand around the throbbing shaft in front of him and slid the cock ring off the rest of the way.
Obi-Wan's release filled his hand and dripped onto the heaving stomach as the Padawan screamed his Master's name. His contracting muscles pushed Qui-Gon over the edge, too, and a moment later they collapsed together onto the bed, basking in the glow of their mutual orgasms.
Finally, as heartbeats slowed and breathing calmed, Obi-Wan rolled over to face his lover. "That was wonderful," he said with a decidedly wicked gleam in his eye. "But I thought I was going to get forty lashes."
Qui-Gon chuckled softly. "Oh, you will, my Padawan." He kissed him gently on the lips, a promise of things to come, then swung out of bed. "But I'm saving that for later tonight. We have a diplomatic function to return to, if you'll recall."
Obi-Wan flopped down into the damp sheets and groaned theatrically. "Why did I have to be cursed with a Master with such a sense of duty? I can't wait until later."
"Would you like me to put the cock ring back on?" Qui-Gon asked him. He bent over to run one finger down the length of the young man's flaccid shaft, watching it twitch in reaction.
"Only if you don't plan on sitting down at all for the next few days," Obi-Wan warned him. He snaked one hand out to capture Qui- Gon's cock, stroking it with his thumb. "How soon did you say that ceremony was that you wanted to attend?"
"Um, not for awhile yet," the Jedi Master answered, finding it difficult to concentrate on his answer as Obi-Wan's fingers worked their magic. "But I'm an old man, my love. I fear you overestimate my recuperative powers."
Obi-Wan pulled him back into bed and pushed him over onto his back, sliding over on top of him, still fondling his cock. "Let's just see about your recuperative powers, shall we?" he asked with an evil grin. "Then maybe you can wear the ring the rest of the night."
Whatever reply Qui-Gon might have made was quickly smothered by a hot, demanding mouth, and all thoughts of Jedi responsibility were released silently into the night.
The End (at least, for now!)
(Sequel? Where the ring is on the other --- ah, you know. You tell me? Do you want one or not?)