Offering 2: Reoffering

by Dr Squidlove ( drsquidlove@virginqueen.com )

At last, a sequel to The Offering. Qui-Gon needs to have sex. He really needs it. Like, right now. But first, Obi-Wan has some questions, because he's beginning to realise that Qui-Gon is quite, quite stupid.

Story, PWP, Humour, Kink (Qui/Obi).
Rated NC-17 for all the obvious reasons.

Muchos, muchos grazias to Pumpkin, who midwifed this bunny, and to Gloriana, for the Great Writing Workshop and subsequent vigorous edit. This is a happy fic for Christy. No gungans, bloodletting or felching.

'The time has come,' the author said,
'To talk of many things:
Of Force and lube and training whips,
Of Obi-Wans, and Jinns.
And why the boys are very hot,
And how the sex begins.'

'But wait a bit,' the lawyers cried,
'Before we have our fuck,
For some of this is Lucasfilm's,
You can not make a buck.'
'No worries!' said the fanficker.
'I've never had such luck.'

"Not again." Obi-Wan sighed.

He strode over and stretched up on his toes to examine the manacles - so easy to take care of, if only he'd had his lightsaber. "Master, this is getting ridiculous. This is the fourth mission in a half-year."

"Fifth," Qui-Gon replied sheepishly, tipping his head back against the grey stone wall. "You forget Albastine."

"Oh." Obi-Wan flushed. "I try to forget Albastine." He ran his hands over Qui-Gon's shining shoulders. "All this oil..."

"Butter."

"Butter, whatever. Surely it's slippery enough to get your hands through the manacles?"

Qui-Gon squeezed his hands into fists, and then opened them, stretching his fingers. "You forget what large hands I have, Padawan."

Obi-Wan glanced down - not at Qui-Gon's hands - and snorted. "Yes, how could I?"

Qui-Gon shrugged, and Obi-Wan smiled. This string of poorly executed missions had left them closer, if nothing else, and now it didn't seem entirely inappropriate to appreciate the way Qui-Gon's hair had been slicked back so tightly it pulled his eyes to give him a slightly feline look, set off by the black collar he wore around his neck. A set of long, brightly-coloured feathers poked up from the back of his head to catch the glow of the afternoon sun, the only splash of colour in the stone-walled pit. He stood with his arms stretched out and up by heavy metal chains.

"Is there nothing we can work with?"

"Not a thing. Except, of course..."

Obi-Wan snorted and glared up at the alien faces peering down on them. "It's amazing. Five separate planets now. Why do they always think you're a virgin?"

When there was no answer, he looked around to find Qui-Gon busy testing the length of his chains. "I can't imagine. It was nothing I said. How would you prefer me?"

He'd turned his back to Obi-Wan, bent forward slightly to brace against the wall with his forearms crossed. The chains were extended as far as they could reach. His hair hung in a tight braid down his oiled back, small feathers woven through to match the plumage above. Obi-Wan couldn't believe he was complaining.

In a career where one might be shot at, forced to sit through interminable speeches, drowned in paperwork or captured for use as a pleasure slave by the Amerayan Cockroach-People, this was a dream mission.

"I don't think we have long, Obi-Wan."

"They didn't say, but I'm sure you're right." Obi-Wan stripped off, pulling a small bottle from his utility belt before kicking the pile of clothes aside.

Qui-Gon peered back over his shoulder. "What's that?"

"Lubricant. I decided I'm not taking any chances, not after last time."

"You've been carrying it with you?"

Obi-Wan pulled Qui-Gon around, until his arms were twisted above his head. "Seemed a sensible precaution, considering our recent missions."

Qui-Gon leaned forward to take a deep kiss, and Obi-Wan hummed in surprised pleasure. They'd been feeding him honey.

Obi-Wan moved closer, felt Qui-Gon's body greasy and sticky against his own, let his hands explore a little before he reached around to finger his hole, looked up at the grunt.

Qui-Gon's tongue touched his lips as he found his breath. "This planet... judge virginity by oral penetration and anal. They believe that the gods rule from above and below, and have tied their sexuality quite deeply to that theology."

Obi-Wan stared at him. "You want me to suck you?"

Qui-Gon's cheeks pinked. "I have to suck you."

Oh. They hadn't done that. That appealed very... Obi-Wan looked around and up, at the chains. "Wonderful. How in the Force are we supposed to pull that off?"

Qui-Gon turned until the chains untangled. "If you climbed up to sit on my-"

"Wait." Something about this just didn't seem right. "How do you know all these customs? If you researched this culture, and you know about their rituals, how did we end up in this mess in the first place?"

Qui-Gon met his gaze, but didn't reply.

"Master?"

"I don't know. I suppose I must have missed a file."

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. There was something going on here that he didn't get.

Qui-Gon bumped their noses. "Whatever's bothering you can wait, Padawan. We need to have sex right now."

Obi-Wan drew back, looking sceptical, and Qui-Gon growled.

"Will that be a problem?"

"Of course not." Obi-Wan moved away for a better look at the metal latticework holding Qui-Gon to the wall. "Ah-hah." The anchors were adjustable. A little fiddling and the chains went slack. "There. Now you can kneel."

Qui-Gon dropped to his knees, just, his body stretched taut once more, chest bowed out.

Yes, nothing to complain about. In the succession of near-sacrifices, he had seen Qui-Gon oiled, chained, waxed hairless, stripped bare before crowds, blindfolded, bound in leather and once, just once, in a long, loose black dress. It was hardly a burden, but rather disconcerting.

Obi-Wan waited, hands on hips. "Do you need anything?"

Qui-Gon's eyes were set on Obi-Wan's groin. "Just... you." He was ready.

Obi-Wan moved in, and Qui-Gon strained forward to take the head of his cock in his mouth. Oh, that was good.

A moment of cold, as Qui-Gon let go and looked up. "Guide me. Show me how you like it."

Of course. He'd never done this before. Never had a cock in his mouth. Obi-Wan took his head in his hands, guided him. Obi-Wan's was the first cock ever to breach these lips, and Qui-Gon was taking him in fearlessly, accepting exactly what Obi-Wan gave him and sucking with boundless enthusiasm. Gradually he pushed deeper, and Qui-Gon took it eagerly. Sweet force, the suction...

"Use your tongue."

An obedient tongue slid along his length, and then back until the tip tickled just under - oh - there, and Obi-Wan managed to choke, "More of that."

And more of that he got, the soft press of tongue along every crease and bump and back to - that - spot, and sometimes just a pause when Qui-Gon attempted to suck his braincells out through - and a - very good job of it too.

Obi-Wan forced his eyes open, not sure when they'd closed, saw Qui-Gon's attention focused entirely on his cock, feathers bobbing in his braid as his head moved. Obi-Wan tightened his hold slightly. "Yes. Now relax." He pushed further, held his breath but there was no protest, only tiny moans as Qui-Gon struggled for more.

"Ow- teeth!"

"Sorry." The mouth withdrawn, a touch of lips in apology, and blue eyes flashed up.

"It's... all right." Obi-Wan smoothed fingers over his hair, reassuring. "Keep going." And now Qui-Gon's gaze stayed on his face as he went down again, more sure now. Cheeks hollowed, holding him, going deeper, up and down until Qui-Gon jerked back, gagging, and Obi-Wan pulled out. "The head. That's where- uh - yes."

And there was the pull, and the incredible tongue, a touch of teeth as Qui-Gon's eyes crinkled, teasing.

Obi-Wan swallowed his groan and raised an eyebrow. He let his hands run down Qui-Gon's upstretched arms until he found the hair of his pits, traced light, deliberate circles and smiled at Qui-Gon's warning glare.

"Faster."

Qui-Gon waited, and Obi-Wan casually slid his hands back up until he found the manacles that embraced Qui-Gon's wrists, grasping hard as hot wet pressure clamped around him, and that was enough to have Obi-Wan coming, head falling back as he pulsed, endlessly, into the virgin mouth.

There were cheers from above. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth, determined to focus on the extreme pleasure pumping through his cock and the knowledge that he was coming down Qui-Gon's throat and ignore the masses that had crowded around the walls of their pit, because if there was one thing Obi-Wan had found boringly universal, it was voyeurism. Surely these planets only invented these stupid rituals so that they could watch.

That tongue was still licking him as his knees buckled and he slid down Qui-Gon's slippery body. As soon as their mouths could reach, Qui-Gon was pushing his tongue inside, flavouring Obi-Wan's mouth with come. "You taste wonderful, Padawan."

"How did you end up chained in this pit?"

Qui-Gon groaned; Obi-Wan cupped his penis and let go.

"Why do they think you're a virgin, Master?"

A heavy moment, and then he touched the band Qui-Gon had taken to wearing around his neck.

"Master..."

"Time is passing, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan jumped to his feet and moved away. "This goes no further until you tell me what's going on."

"It can wait."

"No."

Qui-Gon dropped his gaze, stared hard at the floor.

Obi-Wan came back, leaned over to caress Qui-Gon's face. "You can tell me. You haven't been telling me the truth. I promise I'll listen." It seemed painfully obvious what was going on, but that was clearly impossible unless he heard if from Qui-Gon's own mouth.

Qui-Gon met his gaze squarely. "We'll finish?"

"I promise we'll finish. I won't leave you to whatever it is these people are threatening to do."

"Burn me at the stake."

"Burn at the... Force, Qui-Gon, tell me quickly."

"I want you." Quietly.

"I beg your pardon?"

Qui-Gon shrugged awkwardly against the chains. "I desire you. I love having sex with you."

Obi-Wan stared, incredulous. "You go through all this because you want sex? Have you ever considered cooking me dinner?"

"You hate my cooking."

"It's substantially better than the risk of imminent death."

Qui-Gon managed a small smile. "Substantially? That's the highest compliment you've ever paid my cooking."

Obi-Wan stood and moved away. His master desired him. Qui-Gon had gone through all this just to have sex with him. It was... incredible. Insane and completely moronic, but incredible. "Did you think you couldn't ask me? Did you think I haven't enjoyed you?"

Qui-Gon shifted the weight on his knees. "I like it how we've done it."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, and it was some time before he opened them. "Do you mean that you like the part where you're about to die, or the part where an entire population thinks I'm besmirching the innocence of the galaxy's oldest virgin?"

"Both." Cautiously. "Mostly I like the part where you take control."

This planet administered drugs to its virginal offerings. Quite clearly.

Qui-Gon bit his lip, and added "I like being saved. That first time, on the altar, I saw the exact moment that you saw me as beautiful, and I was glad that you were my first. I was glad they all knew it. I want that again."

Obi-Wan could only stare, until he saw that Qui-Gon was searching his face, nervously, and then he stepped forward and leaned over to lay his cheek against his master's. Warm skin and bristles, damp breath by his ear. Grease on the shoulder under Obi-Wan's fingers. More than beautiful. "Tell me more."

A quick breath. "I like that you're not too gentle. I like- I like being chained, being totally in your hands."

He liked being chained. All this, because he liked being chained. Obi-Wan rubbed his palms over the buttered flesh, nudging Qui-Gon to stand, and then turning him to face the wall again. "For sixty years you've been a virgin, and now you're demanding kinky public sex." He pressed him over until he balanced precariously between his feet and the chains; Obi-Wan let his hands slide down from the broad shoulders to curve around the narrow hips. "There's a universe full of happy medium in there that you might like to explore, Master."

Qui-Gon twisted his hands in their manacles to grip the chains, and the feathers bobbed in his hair. "I like that they're watching, wanting to be a part of this."

Obi-Wan glanced up at the faces above, the rapt attention pouring down. All of these people would be thinking about this as they settled into their beds tonight. He supposed he could understand why Qui-Gon liked it. Perhaps they weren't so bad after all. He chose one, a female, and held her gaze as he trailed his thumb down Qui-Gon's spine, between his cheeks, to roll against the vulnerable hole. The crowd were silent now, which was all the better to hear Qui-Gon's long, soft moan, stretched out longer than breath. The female's eyes were wide, waiting, like the rest of them, to see Qui-Gon taken. By him.

"I like that I'm not your first. I wonder... I like to wonder who has touched you, who taught you, how many people have given you the experience you've brought me. I like to imagine that every time you've fucked, been fucked, you were learning for me."

Obi-Wan looked down. "And you like talking dirty, don't you, Master?" He asked it softly, because those others could watch but this was just for them.

"Yes."

Lube poured generously over them both, a little pushed inside, and that was enough. They'd well-learned how to skip the preparation, working together to hold Qui-Gon open as Obi-Wan slid into his body. Qui-Gon was silent, body heaving with little gasps.

He was deep inside when they let the muscles tighten back in place, and Qui-Gon clamped hard around his cock, squeezing the breath from him. Obi-Wan's mind struggled, to find its way back to their conversation, to latch onto something to hold him here and now. "Lots. I've fucked my way through the Temple." Force he was tight, barely room to move. "That's what you want to hear, isn't it, Master? I started when I was fourteen, did you know that?"

"No."

Back, until he was pinched tightly, and in, no faster. "Reeft and I wanted to know what it was like, so we made a bet. He won, and he got to fuck me." Obi-Wan leaned forward to lie along Qui-Gon's back, testing their balance so he could speak quietly. "We did it in my room, while you slept next door. You were only a wall away while Reeft and I practised fucking each other. I liked fucking him best. It was intoxicating, to see him spread out, needing me. Reeft liked it hard. That's where I learned to give it hard."

Qui-Gon's chest swelled, and let go; he turned his head so the braid slipped over his shoulder and a couple of feathers fell free, drifting back and forth, down to the hard ground.

They reached for an awkward kiss, long and wet and edged with come and honey, broken when Obi-Wan could no longer fight the urge to move. His hands slid over greased skin as he straightened, shuffled his feet until he had leverage. Reeft had never prepared him for this. With Reeft it had been simple fucking, taking turns in any private moment they could find. There'd never been an audience. There'd never been... chains.

He rolled his hips, thrust every time from a new angle, keeping Qui-Gon moaning and straining against the chains. Over and over, and Obi-Wan couldn't believe how well he was holding while Qui-Gon glistened and panted in front of him.

But then, he'd had practice. He'd held out on Gitre as he gathered Qui-Gon's black dress slowly up over his hips. He'd held out on Mendis III while Qui-Gon was gagged and restrained in brown leather straps that wrapped around his body and every limb. So why not with butter and feathers and a confession of desire?

He pulled back and shoved a few fast deep thrusts, stopped and waited for Qui-Gon's cries to fade. "I have to know. Was it really a strict religious rite that demanded you wear a plug through the negotiations on Mendis?"

Qui-Gon strained his neck until he met Obi-Wan's gaze. "No."

"Ah."

Obi-Wan reached over to pluck a tall yellow feather from Qui-Gon's braid, drew it along his jawline, brushed it over his lips.

"You chose to wear it for me."

"Yes."

"Because it turned you on."

"Yes."

"Ah." Obi-Wan looked up at their audience once more, tried to imagine what they were seeing. An embodiment of chastity being ravished, most likely. It was an untimely lesson on how appearances could deceive.

They were doing this, quite simply, because Qui-Gon liked it. Which meant that they could do it again.

"Master?"

Qui-Gon strained back against him, tiring of the conversation. "Yes?"

"I own a plug."

A breath of still, shift of muscles all the way down his stretched back as he swallowed. "Do you own soft rope?"

"I... know where I can get some." And Obi-Wan couldn't see into Qui-Gon's mind but he saw his hands twist harder around the chains, a moment before he was sucked down in a wave of lust.

People crowded to the edges of the road, cheering as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan walked sedately back to the main town. Flowers and gifts fell at their feet, jewellery and letters and underwear. Qui-Gon was limping, but it was barely noticeable.

Since they pulled on their clothes and ascended the ladders that had been lowered into their pit, Obi-Wan had been itching to speak, wondering if he should wait until they were alone, but doubting he could bring up the topic later.

The crowd were well-back, and loud. He could speak privately.

"Master."

"Yes, Padawan?"

"I need to ask you something." Obi-Wan wet his lips. "I promise I won't be angry."

"Go ahead." Carefully, as their steps slowed.

"The first time. On the altar. Was that really your first time?"

Qui-Gon pulled up, lips slowly curling into a smile. He answered, "Yes," and leaned in to work a soft kiss from Obi-Wan's lips, uncaring of the audience. Of course, uncaring was probably not the correct term.

"Then... how could you possibly have been a virgin so long?"

Qui-Gon pulled away, and straightened. "Padawan?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

Will give feedback a good home at drsquidlove@virginqueen.com. Let me know what made you laugh.

No sequels. I don't write sequels. /whistling airily/

More Squidfic can be found at
The Lecherous Tentacles of Dr Squidlove
http://members.iinet.net.au/~tentacles/squidfic.html