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Obi-Wan came home to find the bathroom empty. Which was a bummer as he really wasn't in need of a bath. The kitchen was also empty, and he didn't feel much inclined to take advantage of that situation as he'd had a light snack of questionable consistency but delicious flavour, prepared by Bant to help lighten the mood after three hours of forced hydrodynamics cramming.
It was not that Obi-Wan disliked hydrodynamics. At least not actively. The problem was that he did not think about the subject actively at all, and his mind strayed from the equations and problems at the drop of a hat, or indeed any other item of clothing. Bant had done her best to keep him focused, and they'd laboured their way through Obi-Wan's last assignment in all of three hours. He wondered how he'd manage to survive the written exam if he didn't find something to focus on soon. Which was harder than it sounded, at least when it came to that squidgy subject...
"Evening, Obi-Wan."
The door to Qui-Gon's room was slightly ajar, casting a pale yellowish ray of light on to the slate-grey floor. Faint metallic noises and the contented warm rumble of the Master's voice could only mean one thing: he had been tinkering again, diligently soldering and wiring away at some new ingenious construction of his that would most likely never see the light of day. Or, in some cases, see rather too much of it in one bright flash followed by a cloud of acrid bluish smoke. Still, Qui-Gon's propensity for home-made electronics and general metalwork had provided them with a still-functioning cha boiler that was programmable and only marginally slower than doing it by hand, and had given Obi-Wan access to the necessary materials for his recent experiments in Advanced Crystallography...
Upon entering the room, Obi-Wan saw his Master comfortably astride the odd chair he'd built himself years ago, hunched over what was his writing desk under normal circumstances, but now looked like the collision between a scrap yard and a silversmithy. Shaped like a tall A with a narrow padded seat at the top, the chair was high enough to allow Qui-Gon to stretch his legs fully while working, which consequently meant he had to hunch over pretty much everything since the length of his legs meant that work surfaces were generally too low for the rest of him. Obi-Wan grinned. He could see lots of room for improvement in his Master's inventions yet.
As Qui-Gon made no move to get up, Obi-Wan stepped closer and laid one hand on his Master's shoulder. The older man turned around with a smile, straightened himself, and kissed his Padawan on the tip of his nose, just lightly.
"Perfect timing, Obi-Wan. The metal's literally just cooled down to body temperature. If you'd like to put them on...?" With a hint of pride, Qui-Gon held up two wide bands of woven metal, a dull whitish silver that made it look like a cross between linen and tin. The material was thin and supple, moulding itself against Qui-Gon's large palms as he held them out under his apprentice's surprised gaze.
"Put... you mean you've started making jewellery for me now?" Obi-Wan couldn't help but grin at his Master's observant nature, then stroked one hand lightly over the thin metal mesh. It felt warm and supple, slightly rough to the touch, and not heavy at all. His other hand strayed to the barbell in his nipple, stroking the warm metal there, comparing sensations. Well, if Qui-Gon liked the thought of him in silver, who was he to complain?
Qui-Gon nodded gravely. "Though it would help if you too your boots off. And your leggings, Padawan."
"My... oh... I see. They're not bracelets, they're..."
"Anklets, yes. Though I do have a matching pair of bracelets somewhere here too..." Obi-Wan was out of his boots, leggings and tunics before Qui-Gon had found the bracelets in the shimmering mess of his workbench... and the sight of Obi-Wan stooping to fix the wide elegant metal bands around his ankles, delectable rear barely covered by the thin crumpled loincloth he so liked to wear, wasn't exactly conducive to the Master's concentration.
And Obi-Wan posed shamelessly, jingling the supple mesh bands around his ankles before straightening himself again, stretching languidly like some large cat, trailing his hands up his calves, thighs, flanks until they were stopped short by one of Qui-Gon's hands grabbing Obi-Wan's wrist tightly, warmly. "Here, let me, imp. Before you drive me insane..." The gruff tone of his voice could barely hide his arousal at the sight of his near-naked Padawan clad only in a scrap of thin linen and the soft silver bands of his own making. Two more, equally wide but slightly shorter, fit snugly around Obi-Wan's slender wrists, watched by curious green eyes.
"Redundant catch, Master? Have you begun to apply systems theory to silverwork now....?"
Qui-Gon laughed, a short gruff bark. "You'll see. For now pretend the extra loops are merely decorative. They are pretty, aren't they?" Obi-Wan had to admit they were, and the cool thin metal mesh warming against his wrists and ankles felt quite beautiful. Not to mention the way it looked – wide snug bands of shimmering elegant tightness, of a simplicity that became a Jedi, and yet of a lavishness that made Obi-Wan feel like a prized pleasure boy.
"Now, where did I put it... if you'd care to take off your underthingy, Padawan...? There's one more item to go with these, and then the outfit's complete... Sith, where is it... it's not like it's that small..." The Master's voice trailed off into indistinct mumbling and grumbling, leaving Obi-Wan to wonder what exactly that last item could be. He felt his flesh harden at the thought of the possibilities... a chain around his hips maybe, with a pendant that would tickle the root of his cock... or a ring of the same woven metal, one that would slip over the base of his penis and balls and keep him iron-hard for hours... or even a dainty thin ring to fit just under the head, like the one he had already, the one with the green lightsabre crystal...?
When a murmured "aah" announced that Qui-Gon had found what he'd been looking for, Obi-Wan was already primed and ready to squeak in delight at whatever pretty private adornment it would be... he was almost disappointed, and certainly intrigued, when Qui-Gon held up a small pile of the same whitish-silver mesh, apparently shapeless and filling the Master's large hand almost completely.
He took a step back, allowing Qui-Gon full access to his half-hard cock, a sight that made the Master smile warmly and place a tiny kiss on the tip before grabbing the whole package in a sure warm grip and stuffing it into what turned out to be a pouch of the thin woven metal. It felt tight, and warm, slightly tingly and textured, and Obi-Wan swore the material moulded to his hardening flesh as he watched, tightening around him, encasing him in a silvery embrace. He gave a little gasp of startled pleasure as Qui-Gon fastened the pouch around his Padawan's hips by means of a permanently attached strap of the same soft silver mesh, tightened it and snapped a little latch closed, then withdrew a tiny silver key and took a step back to survey his creation.
"Beautiful, Padawan, beautiful... how does it feel?"
"Um..." Obi-Wan swallowed. His mouth had gone quite dry. "Tight. Warm. A bit tingly..." he stretched a little, only to be rewarded with more glorious tightness, and let out a sigh of pleasure. "Gorgeous."
"But..." a concerned green-eyed look at the small silver key almost lost in Qui-Gon's huge palm, "you mean I'm locked in this? How do I... I mean, how do I, you know... pee?"
Qui-Gon chuckled, eyes glimmering with amusement. He concentrated sharply for a moment, then dropped his other hand to the residual mess on the desk.
Obi-Wan gasped. The metal began to... shift... contract and stretch around his flesh, dragging its tiny curls and threads over his sensitive skin. It felt glorious, and left him with a small opening right at the tip of his penis, a round little hole that winked at him and disappeared again as if it had never been, leaving nothing but tightly interwoven silver.
"Does that answer your question, Obi-Wan?" The amusement and pride in Qui-Gon's voice was unmistakable.
"Uh.. yes." Obi-Wan's mind reeled. Force-sensitive metal? He had never even heard of such a thing... and would never have believed it to be within the realm of a Jedi's material resources at any rate. Now, it was very much in the realm of his own body, and tightening down on it as said body slowly expanded to full hardness.
"Good. Then let me just adjust the... fit a little..." Qui-Gon bent down and caught a wide strap that had until then been hanging loosely between Obi-Wan's legs, and pulled it up between them to cover the sensitive skin behind his testicles, then further up towards the crack of Obi-Wan's taut lush ass. A little squirting sound, then Obi-Wan gave a yelp of surprise as he felt something small and wet pushed inside him... a plug? A plug, attached to the wide metal band that tightened snugly against his ass now and snapped into another little lock at the waistband, holding Obi-Wan completely within this mobile cage of tight warm metal mesh. He gaped a little, looking down on his hardening cock in its thin shimmering sheath, then wriggled his hips a little, only to be rewarded with another slight tightening of the metal bands, until it felt like they were part of him, fused to the skin, gripping him in a tender tight embrace.
"Perfect." Qui-Gon tossed the two silver keys up in the air, caught them with his other hand, and dropped them into one of the pouches on his belt. "Just perfect. Have a seat, Padawan, before you drop dead with your own gorgeousness."
Obi-Wan grinned, an embarrassed little smile, and followed Qui-Gon to the high A-shaped seat. Getting on to that was a bit like mounting a kaadu, Obi-Wan thought, and wished for the thousandth time he had legs like Qui-Gon's, or at least as long as Qui-Gon's. Gingerly, he lowered himself onto the padded seat, feeling the little plug bore deeper into him as he rested his weight on the metal-covered flesh between his legs. His feet still did not touch the ground of course... Qui-Gon smiled mildly at his Padawan's slight discomfort, then knelt down next to the chair.
"Here, let me help you... I think you could do with a bit of support..." With a mischievous smile Obi-Wan could not see from above, he grabbed Obi-Wan's ankles and fastened the silver anklets to the cross-bars of the chair. They fit perfectly, stretching the young man's legs just that little bit without making him feel uncomfortable. Sitting like this _did_ drive the little plug home a bit deeper though, Qui-Gon thought with a delighted little smile. Obi-Wan gasped, half with the sensation and half in indignation. "You... you _tied_ me to this... thing, Master!! What..."
"Certainly, Padawan. We don't want you falling off, do we? And you were wondering about what these 'redundant' rings were for after all. Let me demonstrate..." With this, he took Obi-Wan's wrists in his hands and touched the two rings on the bracelets together. They snapped in place like snake's jaws, locking Obi-Wan's wrists together in front of him.
Obi-Wan gave a little squeak, and he honestly didn't know whether it was all anger, or humiliation, or mostly pleasure after all. True, he was bound, and tightly, the bands around his wrists and ankles did not give in to his writhing and pulling... but he was also bound beautifully, in sheer slinky woven metal that encased his genitals in a warm tight grip that was unbearably arousing. A slow smile creeping across his face, Obi-Wan let his cuffed hands drop to his silvery cock – and jerked back in shock.
"Ow!!"
"Well, Padawan, I didn't tell you to touch it, did I? There is a slight electromagnetic repulsion active in the... belt, which will induce small but measurable electric currents whenever touched by your hands. Ingenious, isn't it?"
Obi-Wan howled. "You mean I'm... I'm trapped here, locked inside this indescribably hot... thing, and can't make myself come?"
"Almost correct, Padawan... almost." The slow smile in Qui-Gon's voice was quite enough to bring Obi-Wan to the edge of climax. What in all the Sith hells had he planned next??
By way of a reply, Qui-Gon produced a longish wobbly object and thrust it into Obi-Wan's bound hands. "Here. This controls the chastity belt. In certain ways anyway..."
Obi-Wan held the thing, carefully. It was a little longer than his hand, vaguely cylindrical, and filled with translucent purple jelly, with tiny coloured beads and glitter particles stuck in it. The skin appeared to be elastic, and Obi-Wan gave it a slight squeeze –
- it squirmed right out of his grasp and fell to the floor with a dull splat.
"Tut, tut, Padawan. These things are sensitive. It does not do to drop them just like that..." Slowly, teasingly slowly, Qui-Gon stooped to pick the mysterious object up and handed it back to Obi-Wan.
It was a toroid. Well, a seriously elongated toroid. Like a tube that had its walls pumped up with purple goo. It turned inside out at the slightest squeeze, inner wall merging into outer without a break. Careful not to let it slip out of his grasp this time, Obi-Wan held it in both hands and squeezed.
The sensation hit him quite unexpectedly, and he clamped down harder on the squidgy object in his hands, only to be rewarded with a further tightening of the metal mesh around his cock and balls... oooh... it took quite an effort of will to let go of the delicious pressure, it just felt too good!
Carefully, breathing deeply, Obi-Wan squeezed the purple toroid at one end. Like living material, the metal sheath around his balls tightened in a ripple of warm metallic hardness. He sighed in pleasure, then squeezed the other end. Predictably and deliciously, the silver around his tip contracted, squeezing a drop of pre-cum out. Slowly, Obi-Wan settled into a rhythm, squeezing the jelly tube at either end, gently first, then harder, then so hard that it turned inside out just a little at every squeeze, and found himself turning inside out just a little more every time the gloriously tight metal contracted around his hopelessly throbbing and achingly hard cock and balls.
Obi-Wan had begun to rock his hips just a little at every squeeze, and the low groan he heard could only mean Qui-Gon was enjoying the view. Delighted and amused, his earlier indignation at the bondage forgotten, Obi-Wan looked up – and nearly dropped the wriggling jelly thing again.
Which was forgivable at the sight. Leaning relaxedly back against the desk, Qui-Gon had pulled his leggings down just a little and was fondling a huge glistening deep pink erection that jutted out between his tunics like the weapon it was. Obi-Wan keened low in his throat, needing that thing inside him, imagining what it would feel like together with the wonderfully tight bonds around his ankles and wrists and his... cock...
He caught the toroid just in time, digging one thumb into the yielding jelly to keep a hold on the thing. The thumb slid inside, sucked into the tight inner cavity of the tube, and Obi-Wan screamed in surprised pleasure as he felt the little plug in his ass move.
Without thinking, he thrust his thumb further into the tight sucking purple jelly, as far as it would go, and squirmed in delight as the plug appeared to expand and stretch his hot tight opening, sending little showers of lust coursing up his spine. Gasping, he closed his eyes, swallowed hard, then looked at Qui-Gon who was by now clearly flushed with arousal at the wanton display his Padawan was making of himself. That mighty cock was leaking copiously, and Jinn was licking his lips in anticipation.
Gathering what was left of his composure, Obi-Wan set out to use that devious device to the fullest. One hand firmly clamped around the glimmering cylinder, he thrust the fingers of his other hand inside, one first, then two, then as many as he could fit in, stretching the elastic material to its limits, stretching himself to a burning, sparkling arousal as the plug expanded and lengthened, nudging his prostate with every thrust while the tight mesh in front massaged his cock relentlessly, squeezing the juices out of him to the increasingly frantic rhythm of his own heartbeats, his own squeezes and manic thrusts.
He was a beautiful sight, lithe body undulating and thrusting in sheer wanton need, sweat beading on his forehead as he rode that devious plug, deep moans of pleasure gusting from his lips with every breath, every thrust of his hips against that enveloping metal, that gorgeous hard intruder inside him, greedy for more, more...
When he managed to thrust his entire hand inside the purple tube, stretching it to its limits and filling his ass with a fat hard push so strong that it would have thrown him off the chair if he hadn't been tied to it, it was only Qui-Gon's hand that kept him from driving himself into a screaming, fainting, body-crushing orgasm.
Qui-Gon's hand grabbed the purple cylinder and snatched it from him.
Wordlessly, panting, Obi-Wan stared. Stared at the gentle care with which Qui-Gon held the purple toroid, careful not to cause any sensations to his terminally aroused and squirming Padawan, perched precariously on the seat he was chained to. Stared at the glow of hot need on his Master's face. Stared at the pulsing, twitching erection jutting up from between Qui-Gon's clothes. Stared at Qui-Gon's moist, glistening lips as they came closer and closer, eating his own in a long hard kiss.
It was agony. Perfect, beautiful agony.
When Obi-Wan was quite sure he would either faint from lack of oxygen or from the sheer impossible arousal Qui-Gon had pumped into his body, the Master let go of his lips, smiling a lascivious smile, and straightened himself up to stand before Obi-Wan in all his tall hard glory. Then, he tightened his grip on the purple tube and... oh yes... Obi-Wan was sure he'd faint just from the anticipation...
It slammed into him like the original unstoppable force – the need and desire and lust in him exploded to a level he was sure he had never felt before, and he watched in dazed, shaken pleasure as Qui-Gon fucked the glimmering squidgy tube, stretching it to bursting over his thick hard cock, grabbing it hard with his huge strong hands and thrusting like a man possessed. The plug inside Obi-Wan's ass awoke to new life and pistoned in and out of him as if it was really Qui-Gon's cock, big and long and hard as metal, rubbing his pleasure points white-hot with every thrust... and his own cock was enveloped in a rippling hot tightness that felt as if he was thrusting into Qui-Gon himself, an exquisite tortuous squeeze that bordered on the painful, but never quite crossed the threshold. Obi-Wan yelled and roared, whimpered and begged, screamed and keened until he had no voice left in him and simply let himself fall over the edge – spurting a shining hot stream of sheer fucking pleasure into the tight embrace of the silver mesh.
He thudded into a hard, heaving chest, ears ringing with the echo of Qui-Gon's climactic roar, bound hands squashed against his Master's breastbone, encircled by strong warm arms holding him tight until he was halfway sure he could sit up again without further assistance.
Qui-Gon took a step back, radiating pleasure, pride, and a wanton beauty nobody would have expected in a man of his age and status. A beauty only Obi-Wan knew. That smile. That wicked delicious half-smile... curious and flushed with warmth and a wave of sheer love for his devious gorgeous Master, Obi-Wan followed the sapphire gaze down.
Yes. It definitely qualified as jewellery now. Around the tip of Obi-Wan's softening cock, the silver mesh was dotted with irregular jewels of a pearly white, beads made of pure pleasure. Obi-Wan grinned. No, he didn't mind being locked inside a chastity belt. Not if it was capable of what he had just felt.
"Yes, Padawan. I plan to have you wear it continuously for a while..."
Obi-Wan squeaked in undignified pleasure. "You know what, Master...?" he tried in vain to hug Qui-Gon with his bound hands and contented himself with rubbing against the big man like a grateful cat.
"You know what... I wouldn't _want_ to take it off any time soon!"
--- The End ---