Matching Deeds to Words

by Ruth Gifford (lady_volumna@yahoo.com)

Archive: yes to MA

Rating: NC-17

Categories: PWP, POV, AU (that thing didn't happen), mild D/s

Series: The Adventures of Slut!Qui and TalkDirty!Obi

Warning: not really; the kink is mild. Possible purple prose and definite heavy use of ellipses.

Disclaimer: Original!Qui, Original!Obi and all things Star Wars are the property of Lucas Films.

Feedback: Talk dirty to me, on list or off

Notes: Emu said something in her LoC to "Staking A Claim" that got me thinking that perhaps it was Qui's turn to have a say. And yes, because he's like that, the Master is introspective, even in the middle of sex. He took over, really. Thanks to Fummin for Qui's ... jewelry (see page 44 of "The Door"). Yes it's a series. And yes, there's room for as many players as want to join. Talk dirty to us, you know you want to.

So far the series is as follows:

'The Padawan's Price' by MrsHamill
'Staking A Claim' by Ruth Gifford
'Returning to the Scene of the Claim' by Master Jenn Kenobi
'Caught in the Act' by Ruth Gifford
'Two Paces Behind' by The Emu
'Reward' by Master Jenn Kenobi
'Matching Deeds to Words' by Ruth Gifford

For: terri, Jenn and Emu. We're having some fun now!

My Obi-Wan calls me a slut, and he's right to do so. In spite of my years and my position and everything else, I'm still willing and eager to do anything he wants.

Painfully eager at times. Even frighteningly so. I know that Obi-Wan thinks that I began seeking others out when I first knew of my feelings for him, but it was not so. Seeking others out. Ha! What a nice polite euphemism.

I like sex; I have ever since I realized that my penis had more than one use. As I became older, grew more aware of myself, I realized that my appetite was somehow a by-product of the way I touch the Living Force. It's not the usual way Jedi deal with the Living Force, but then, when have I ever done anything the usual way?

For me sex is the ultimate life-affirming act. To receive pleasure at the same time that you give it is truly amazing and my empathic abilities make it very clear to me that what I do gives people pleasure. For me, fucking brings deep a connection to the Force, even in the most casual encounters.

When it happens with someone I love.... Well I never knew just how amazing it could be. I've had more than my share of actual affairs with other Jedi, but those relationships pale beside what I have with Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan, my Padawan, my beloved, my beautiful lover who knows exactly what I need. When, I find myself wondering did he learn the things he knows? Where did he learn how to turn a lover inside out, how to use his amazing voice to such devastating effect?

When I was his age, the whole Temple knew what I was up to. Yoda, bless his heart, only called me to order when my outside activities compromised my training, something I rarely allowed to happen. As much as I love sex, I have always been truly dedicated to my calling.

And so Obi-Wan seemed to me. Even more that I ever was, for I've never had to remind him to concentrate on his lessons or weapon drills or any number of the boring but necessary evils that make up a Padawan's life. And yet, I now know that there have been many other lovers before me.

Given my own activities before we were lovers, it would have been easy enough for Obi-Wan to have any number of partners without my knowing about them. And yet, he tells me that many of his friends assume he was a virgin before we became lovers. If they could see the way he is with me, all passionate fire, they would be shocked.

I know I was. I had thought him innocent and untouchable. I had burned, hungry and aching for him, all the while assuming that my fantasies were destined to stay fantasies. I imagined that he would be shocked and even disappointed by my other life. Could he even imagine that I gave myself to strangers, all the while dreaming of him? No, it was simply unthinkable.

And then he burst into a world I thought was my own, a place I went when the ache was too great, and the need too intense. From the moment he ran his hand down my body and claimed me with his braid I was lost. Lost in the sheer impossibility of the moment. My untouchable Padawan, demanding public sex from me, dragging me off to one of the anonymous rooms to fuck me, all the while telling me everything that was happening--that would happen--in explicit crude detail.

How did he know? Oh, he told me that he had followed me and watched me in the past, and that he had somehow guessed who it was I wanted in the place of all those faceless strangers. But how in heaven did he know that one of my most common fantasies was to hear him talk to me like that? His words, pornographic and bordering on the humiliating, hold me in the Moment the way sex alone cannot.

"You're awfully quiet this evening." The beloved voice interrupts my musing and I smile at him.

"I was just thinking." In answer to his questioning look, I go on. "About us."

"Oh?"

"How did you know? How did you read me so well?"

"Know what?" He's teasing me now, but I don't mind.

"Know what to do to get past my initial reservations about a relationship with you."

He laughs. "I swear Qui, you sound like you're giving a lecture in front of a room full of Senior Padawans." A swift smile, one that I've come to associate with the switch from proper Padawan to dominating lover. "And what was it that got you past those initial reservations?"

"The way you talked to me." I know my voice is quiet, subdued. This sense of ... not quite shame, but concern, is new to me, a feeling only associated with Obi-Wan. After months, I still feel that I might, somehow, shock him.

"You're so sweet when you get embarrassed like that. Honestly, Qui, for such a slut, you're awfully shy."

I can't help it, my cock jumps when he calls me a slut. It's a become a trained response and one I hope I never lose. His smirk tells me that he's well aware of the effect he has on me.

"And you are a slut. My slut."

My heart beats that much faster at the utter possessiveness in his voice. He may allow me inside him at times, but there is no doubt as to who is on top in this relationship. And I wouldn't have it any other way. What better way to lose myself in the Force than to submit to the man I love?

He was sprawling on the floor reading something for a class and now he puts down his datapad and rolls over to sit up. Looking up at me, he nods.

"I want you to undo your pants and take your cock out, then put your hands flat on the couch."

I do as I'm told. There's something about being under his cool gaze that makes me shiver. It also brings me up hard. I feel a little ridiculous sitting there, fully dressed but for my robe, with my cock exposed.

"You get hard just from me looking at you, don't you."

"Yes," I admit.

Obi-Wan does not demand any sort of formality from me. While he is dominant, this is not a Master/slave relationship. There are few rules, and the only major ones are that I not call him Padawan (which only makes sense) and that I not touch myself without his permission.

"Well, it's a nice cock. And, while I like looking at it as it is, I think I'd like to decorate it as well."

He is kneeling in front of me in a flash, reaching into one of his belt pouches to remove ... something. I get a quick glimpse of metal and then he is touching the pressure point behind my balls.

"I can't put these on you when you're that hard," he explains.

"These" turn out to be two thin bands of metal, one that circles the base of my cock and one that goes around it right under the head. Although snug, the bands are not painful. Each has a very small ring to which a length of chain is attached, linking each band.

"Oh very nice," Obi-Wan murmurs. "What do you think?"

"They feel very good," I reply, a little hoarsely. I don't know if I can truly appreciate the aesthetic appeal; after all, I've been looking at my cock my whole life, but I can certainly feel his eyes caressing me.

"There's more, you know," he says. "Strip for me."

I comply, anticipation making me clumsy. He rests back on his heels, not helping at all. I've come to learn that my eagerness for him, my need for what he does to me, excites him as much as it does me.

When I'm naked, he directs me back to the sofa, and, with a rustle and flash of metal, attaches a pair of clamps to my nipples, carefully working around my nipple ring. The pinching is exquisite, tight and just on this side of pain.

The clamps are linked to the cock adornment by more fine chains and the whole thing is tight enough that any movement transmits sensation. He strokes my cock lightly and I feel it in my nipples. Soon, with only delicate, gentle touches, he has me writhing on the couch, wanton as any whore.

"You like that, don't you slut?"

"Oh yes."

"And it's making you want me, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"You want me to fuck you, don't you Qui? And right now you don't really care where I do it, do you? I could hold you down and have you suck me, let me fuck that hot, sweet mouth of yours, and you'd be happy, wouldn't you?"

For a moment I can't answer. This is my Padawan, my serious intellectual apprentice, who is so often far more solemn than I. And here he is, saying these things to me. As always, his voice and his words leave me breathless.

"I'm ... happy with ... anything from ... you," I manage to gasp out. Every hitched breath pulls the clamps, which in turn stimulate my cock. I'm already desperate to come and I know full well that I'm in for a long, lovely night of torment from my inventive lover.

"Or I could bend you over any piece of furniture I prefer and fuck you. Slam my cock into your tight ass ... listen to you moan and beg...."

I am obscurely pleased that he is as aroused as I am. I don't think I could bear it if I thought for one moment that he views me as I once viewed my anonymous lovers. Something in my look must convey my depth of feeling for suddenly his litany of lust ceases and he nods.

"Yes, I love you too." Another swift smile and he rakes me with a possessive look. "But that won't stop me from using your body any way I see fit."

"It's yours to use."

"So it is. Spread your legs." I do and he continues, tossing me a bottle of lubricant. "Prepare yourself."

The gel is cool on my fingers. Every move I make as I slide my fingers inside myself is made strange by the pull of the chains.

"Tell me how they make you feel," Obi-Wan asks, reading me easily.

"It's ... distracting."

He laughs. "I wonder why. Could it be because your nipples are chained to your cock and you're twisting those big fingers of your in your ass?"

"Oh yes." More a moan than real words. I know he likes to hear me like this.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Good, keep those fingers in there."

I close my eyes as he stands up and heads toward our bedroom. It's hard to describe, but I can feel myself moving toward that place where there is nothing in my world but the sensation that Obi-Wan gives me. Even my own fingers are inside me at his direction. I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Open your eyes."

I do and a startled gasp escapes me. I don't know what I had expected, but the sight of my Padawan holding an alarmingly large dildo is more than a little provocative.

"Guess what I want you to do with this."

I gulp and when I speak, my voice is hoarse. "Fuck myself?"

"Oh, very good, Qui. You must be a Master; you catch on so quickly."

In spite of my arousal I roll my eyes at him. He grins and tosses me the toy. I'm surprised when I catch it; these things, in my experience, are usually somewhat soft. This one is not. Made of some dark sleek stone, its weight is perfectly balanced in my hand. Rather like the....

"...hilt of a 'saber. Yes, that is what made me buy it. Well that and the thought of watching you fuck yourself with it." He gestures. "Well? Go ahead. Or aren't you curious?"

The first sensation, as the big head of the dildo enters me, is one of cold. And then, as I slowly push it inside, I notice that unlike flesh or polymer or any of the usual materials, it does not yield at all. Instead my body has to conform to it, a strangely exciting feeling.

"Is it good?"

I nod, too intent of the feelings to reply.

"I thought it would be. And it's good watching you." His voice is husky now and I shiver at the sound of it. "Spread your legs more ... that's right. It's big, isn't it?" He leans forward, pausing to tug almost absently on the chain. I can feel myself tightening around the dildo, and I have to close my eyes at the heat that rushes through me.

"It's bigger than I am, you know. Big and hard, and I can see you stretching to take it in. That's why I got a dark one, I wanted to see your ass around it."

He's breathing almost as heavily as I am and when I open my eyes for a quick glance at him, I can see him rubbing his cock through his pants.

"Obi-Wan ... please ... let me do it...."

"Later, Qui, later. I haven't finished watching you."

The dildo is buried all the way in me now and I look to him for permission to continue.

"Yes. Fuck yourself the way you want me to fuck you."

Oh yes, I can do that. It is bigger than him; it's probably even bigger than I am. It feels hard and cold and utterly artificial as I pull it out and push it back in, seeking a rhythm. I soon find one, plundering my own body as hard and fast as I can. Each movement of my arm tugs at the chains and the combination of sensations is intense ... so intense ... so good.

"Oh yes, that's right. Shove that big thing in you hard. Force, Qui, you should see yourself, all spread out and wanton. You look like a whore, like the slut you are."

"Your ... slut."

"Yes, my slut. My big slut, fucking himself in front of me, shameless and hungry for it. Oh yes, that's it. Use your other hand to pull on the chain. I want you to feel this all over."

"Oh Force, Obi-Wan! Please ... I ... it's too much..."

"Oh is it? You don't look too distressed. Do you want to stop?"

Part of me does want this to stop. I'm used the feeling of being at the mercy of my desire, but this openness frightens me a little.

But not enough.

"No ... please don't make ... me stop."

"Good! Oh yes, so good. Keep fucking yourself, slut."

Both of us are panting now. My nipples are burning and my cock feels as though it's swollen to twice its normal size. The dildo is still cool inside me, and I feel the stretching and the burn even more than usual.

Just when I don't think I can take any more, that I'll surely come or break or fly into pieces, I'm there. In the Moment.

Suddenly, all moments are this one and I have always been here, displaying my need and hunger and love and sexuality for my lover. For my Obi-Wan.

The bond opens up and I see....

Myself, sprawled on the couch, legs spread wide. I'm fucking myself and pulling on the chain that connects my nipples to my cock and there's a look of aching need and vulnerability on my face.

This, then, is what he sees.

Oh yes. And you are so beautiful. My lover, my Qui-Gon.

Always and only yours.

I can feel the visceral response the words bring out in him and for some uncountable period of time, we are locked together in this place. Together on this knife-edge of pleasure, a second--a lifetime--away from the fall into ecstasy.

I honestly don't know which of us snaps first, or, indeed, if we both do.

Time resumes its normal passage and Obi-Wan's hand is hard on my wrist.

"Stop!"

"Nooo," I moan, even as I let him pull the dildo out of me.

"Over the arm of the couch. NOW!" His voice, usually so controlled, is a passionate roar, and I move to obey. His hands are hard on my ass, spreading me open, and I feel my whole body yielding to those beloved hands.

"Yes, Obi-Wan. Please ... hard and fast."

"Going to fuck you," he gasps out. Gone is the cultured voice, the carefully thought out obscenities. "Gonna fuck you hard ... and harder ... gonna take you, Qui...."

His voice raises to a shout and under it, I can hear my labored breathing and the moans and near screams he's pulling out of me.

"So fucking hot ... watching you ... you're such ... a slut ... so hot..."

He will leave bruises on my hip and I revel in the knowledge. He is pounding into me, giving me the hard, demanding proof of his need for me, his love. And in return I offer up everything that I am, using my body as my own proof of love.

His hand fumbles at my cock and the bands that have restrained me are opening. I'm close ... so close and all I need is....

"Come for me!"

And I do, screaming his name and driving myself back onto his cock, wanting to make this shattering moment go on forever. The world is going dark behind my eyelids as he pours his own climax into me.

I know it's only seconds before I come back to myself, but it feels like forever. Obi-Wan is heavy on my back, a comforting weight, his large hands caressing my flanks erratically as we both begin to breath normally again.

"Force," he whispers. "It's so good with you. I never thought I'd find anyone...." Uncharacteristically, he pauses to search for words and then tries again. "I love you, you know. Everything about you."

I can't answer. No one has ever loved me so completely. Until Obi-Wan, no one has ever seen how much I need this connection between body and Force. And no one has ever matched that need the way Obi-Wan does.

After my own turn at searching for words, I speak. "I never thought to find anyone who understood me like you do. This need that drives me, this hunger ... there were times I despaired and even times I hated myself for the lengths I went to in order to satisfy it, satisfy myself."

I reach back and twine my fingers with his, our joined hands resting on my hip.

"As you grew, became a man, it became so much more difficult. Before I was just looking for sensation, pleasure, not only for myself but for my lovers as well.

"And then there you were, all grown up. A beautiful man, one that I already loved more than I'd ever loved anyone. And I thought that you...."

I had thought that I'd left this fear behind me, but now it rushes back again. It's strange how devastating fear after the fact can be.

"Once I realized that you wanted me, I wasn't shocked at all. Nor disgusted or any of the other things that you thought I would feel." His fingers tighten on mine. "And that first night, when I really saw how it was for you and how it could be for both of us...."

His voice becomes very serious, almost solemn. "You feel so deeply and you come to sex with such intensity that you bring out that same intensity in me."

A pause and then, "How many of your partners were you ever with more than once?"

"Casual partners? None of them."

"You probably scared them away."

I hadn't thought of it that way, but it makes all the sense in the world. My faint rumble of agreement seems to trigger one of his swift mood changes.

"Well, I hope you realize that it takes more than that to scare me away."

I share his laughter and shake my head. "So I guess this means that you're stuck with a slut."

He gently eases off of me and strokes my back and sides. "And you are stuck with my demanding self."

"Always and only you."

The end