Archive: By Master and Apprentice, all others please ask.
Category: Humor/Parody
Rating: R
Warnings: Well, spew, mostly.
Spoilers: As if!
Summary: Mary Sue comes to regret coming.
Feedback: at thamill@mgfairfax.rr.com
Disclaimers: Praise George from whom all lawsuits come!
Notes: I could blame this on Halrloprillalar for Phantom Pain,
or I could blame it on Chat Noir for The Morning After, but
it's really all my fault. *sigh* I think le Road Show is
getting to me. I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me. And thanks
Silky for the quick-n-dirty beta.
Well. After months of conniving, whining and pining, weeks of
heavy-duty machinations and bribery, you are finally where you
always (well, at least for the last year) wanted to be; in bed,
naked, sandwiched between the Temple's two most beautiful men.
You are laying on your right side, facing the warm, comforting
bulk of Master Qui-Gon Jinn, while his Padawan lays right
behind you. They appear to be asleep, and who can blame them,
after the wonderful afternoon and night of nothing but
enthusiastic, VERY enthusiastic, loving the three of you just
experienced. So they are asleep, but you are too excited and
happy to sleep. And warm, to boot.
Very warm. You notice for the first time exactly how large
Qui-Gon is and exactly how much body heat such a large man can
emit. Very warm, indeed. Broiling, in fact, something you note
by the sweat gathering at your hairline and between your
thighs. And here you thought it was all desire and semen...
And as a matter of fact, you ARE covered in semen, from your
lower legs to your hair. Sticky, in fact, and a tad smelly, but
you don't care, right? It's worth it, right? And in some
cultures, semen is considered healthy for the skin...
But the heat coming off the Jedi Master in waves finally gets
to you, and you slowly, carefully try to pull away a bit to
cool off, briefly struggling against his arms that surround
you. Shifting to your back helps, but then the Padawan just
presses up against you and by GOD he's hard again. Now, you do
expect that a young man like him would have almost limitless
stamina but this is ridiculous. And his Master is pushing 50!
Luckily, he's also asleep so doesn't press his advantage. You
close your eyes and try to drift off a bit, but a horrific
noise in your ear starts you awake. He's snoring. Loudly. As in
rattle the windows. But you can ignore it, after all, you slept
for almost ten years with an audibly flatulent Labrador who
also snored; you can put up with an excessively adorable
Padawan.
But then the Master starts in, counterpoint to the Padawan, and
if anything he's louder. You sigh. Must be the broken nose;
maybe gave him a deviated septum.
As you resign yourself to a sleepless night (after all, it WAS
worth it, right?), you notice the urge to void. But that's
okay, you can hold it for a while...until the familiar
burning/tingling starts up and oh NO, not the cystitis again!
Considering the amount of damp between your thighs, it makes
some sense, but not another week of nothing but cranberry
juice!
You sigh and shift slightly again, looking for a comfortable
(read dry) spot, and not only do you NOT find it, but Obi-Wan
shifts and drapes an arm around your breasts... very sore,
excessively chewed upon breasts, and you wince. In his
semi-sleep state he nuzzles your face and you discover his
breath could drop a bantha at fifty paces. Qui-Gon lets loose
with another ear-splitting WHONK and that's it, you've had it.
You need to pee. You need to sleep. You need to re-examine this
whole threesome thing...
Managing to extricate yourself from the Jedi (not to mention
the damp sheets) is a daunting task. Obi-Wan is only about a
quarter awake, but pressing his now quite firm erection into
your thighs, and your squirming only makes him more passionate.
Somehow, you manage to avoid kneeing him in the groin (after
all, he IS gorgeous, and it would be a shame to ruin that huge
phallus... the source of so much of your tenderness) and
wriggle down the bed and out of his grasp.
You are sore. No. You are in pain. Being mastered once can be
fun, but three times? And while it's always been your fantasy
to have it up against the wall, the scrape on your backside
tells you stone walls are a lot rougher than sheetrock.
Whynhell would the Jedi Temple insist on stone walls? And why
would the two most gorgeous men in the Temple HAVE to be hung
like eopies? Doesn't anyone have a normal six incher any more?
It might not have been so bad if Qui-Gon hadn't insisted on
picking your thoughts for every last stinking fantasy you've
had since you hit menarche and fulfilling them...sometimes a
fantasy should remain just that, you think, such a change from
the day before...
Sitting up is not fun, and you find you have to roll to one
buttock to ccomplish it... then with a hiss go to the other
buttock, the one without the bite mark on it. Okay. Any chance
the healers are gonna see that? You don't think so.
Gently, carefully, you get to your feet and stagger away from
the bed, noticing, as you do, that Obi-Wan has apparently found
another outlet for his urges, and is kissing Qui-Gon
passionately. Figures. Men...Well, let Qui-Gon deal with
bantha-breath for a while, you have got to pee. Thank the Gods
all quarters are supplied with bidets.
The room is candlelit therefore dim, but you can still see
yourself clearly in the full length mirror on the 'fresher door
and your reflection shocks you. Your hair is a mess, of course,
you can deal with that. But you've got at least five monster
hickeys on your throat (HOW are you gonna explain THAT to your
roomies?), your nipples are red and raw from being chewed, you
have two sets of five-fingered bruises on your hips. There is
of course the huge bite mark on your left buttock and some more
bruises on your upper arms. What a mess!
A moan from the bed makes you turn to see that Qui-Gon is now
fellating Obi. Fearful lest they try to grab you again, you
race into the 'fresher and pull the door to after you. You
don't want to turn on the light... both to avoid blinding
yourself and giving away your position, but you're familiar
with the layout. You move to the commode and gratefully sit
down to relieve the pressure in your bladder; you sit, and sit
and...
A splash and a shriek from the 'fresher gives the two men on
the bed pause. Breathlessly, Obi-Wan says, "Master, I think you
left the lid up again."
His Master, unwilling to talk with his mouth full, doesn't
reply.
Archive 