From the Temple Erotica Archives II: Beware the Pouting
Padawan
by Merri-Todd Webster (lonchura@yahoo.com)
Archive: Master_apprentice only.
Category: Humor, Plot-What-Plot, Fetish/Kink
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Do I look like George Lucas to you?
Warnings: [whoop! whoop! whoop!] OFC warning! Triosmut
warning! This story includes m/f and m/f/m sexual interaction
as well as m/m.
Spoilers: None
Summary: Life imitates art once again as Obi-Wan deals with
his jealousy by writing out a sexual fantasy.
Feedback: On or off-list, welcomed at lonchura@yahoo.com.
Comments: I blame this one on Alex. We were chatting one night
about actresses we'd like to see play Jedi, and I mentioned
Suzi Plakson, best known among sf fans as K'ehleyr, Worf's old
flame and the mother of his son, Alexander. She also played Dr.
Selar, a Vulcan, on ST:TNG and a female Q in a Voyager episode,
where we got to see her natural redhead's coloring. So the OFC
in this little smutlet is NOT a Mary Sue but rather a guest
appearance by Suzi Plakson.
Thanks to Alex, Pumpkin, and my husband for having a look at
this and improving it by their attention.
Obi-Wan was sulking, and he knew it. He was sulking out of
jealousy, and he knew that, too. He was sulking so severely
that he was pouting, and he knew that as well, because he had
admired the pout in the 'fresher mirror. It was a very fetching
pout that he was certain would cause his master to pounce on
him with amorous intent--if only his master were around to see
it.
His master's absence was, of course, the reason Obi-Wan was
pouting. They had just returned to the Temple for a breather
after a simple ceremonial mission that had turned ugly when an
earthquake rocked the capital of Helgaraan during the wedding
of its Emperor. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had both had a couple of
nasty fractures that need to be fused by the Temple Healers,
and Qui-Gon had spent a night in the bacta with some cuts that
had become infected on their trip home.
Obi-Wan had been looking forward to pouncing or being pounced
this evening, now that all the cuts, bruises, and broken bones
were taken care of. And then that woman had shown up....
He sighed and stood up, unfolding from a complex meditation
posture. Neither meditation nor masturbation had helped his
present mood. Qui-Gon had been dragged away for the evening by
his semi-mythical
first padawan--Knight Eidanna Ngocean. Her first
padawan had just passed her trials and been knighted, and
Eidanna had wanted to celebrate her achievement of the rank of
master in the company of her own master. Qui-Gon, of course,
had been delighted. And Obi-Wan, of course, had said, "Go, and
don't worry about me."
But Obi-Wan was worrying about Qui-Gon, and about their
relationship. He trotted off to the recycler and emptied a pot
of tea out of his system, sighing with relief, then headed for
the kitchen to search for some wine. Eidanna Ngocean was an
extremely attractive woman, taller than Obi-Wan though not as
tall as Qui-Gon, with long legs, long auburn hair, and a long
slow smile that had curled Obi-Wan's toes. Not to mention that
deep, slightly husky voice... he'd always been a fool for a
deep voice, whether contralto or bass. She'd smiled down at
Obi-Wan (making him notice it was down, not up), slung
an arm around her former master's shoulders, and said
pointedly, "Don't wait up--we're going out of the Temple."
Obi-Wan poured himself half a cup of dark red wine and chugged
it down in one gulp. Wine or no wine, he was going to wait up
for his master, sure as Sith. If only Qui-Gon weren't so damned
honest... if only they weren't still master and
padawan.... But he was only twenty-two, with perhaps as much as
ten years to go before his trials. And of course his master was
right: It wasn't fair to either of them to promise exclusive
fidelity. They could get away with being lovers, but not mates.
Not yet. Qui-Gon had given Obi-Wan permission to disport
himself with whomever he pleased. And Obi-Wan had had to grant
his master the same.
The trouble was that he didn't want to disport himself with
anyone else. Qui-Gon was plenty, Qui-Gon was everything he
needed. He loved the man and wanted Jinn all to himself, and
that he could not yet have, at least, not yet. Whereas Eidanna
Ngocean could, if she wanted... if Qui-Gon wanted....
Obi-Wan sat down at the computer terminal and stared at the
dormant screen, chin propped in his hands. He had a stubborn
semi-erection despite two rounds of masturbation. And some
dangerous emotions that had not yielded to meditation. Well,
Qui-Gon had given him some useful advice a few years ago, when
he began teaching his padawan to write his own independent
reports to the Council. "I heartily recommend keeping
a journal, Obi-Wan. Oftimes confusion, grief, sorrow, and even
impulses to the Dark Side will yield to writing when they will
yield to nothing else. To write about them disperses their
energy and transforms it. And on the other hand, one has the
benefit of a record of joys that may be savored and savored
again for long after."
The journal he kept intermittently had sprouted off into the
sexual fantasies he'd posted to the archive. And it had borne
fruit in logs and reports that won the praise even of Mace
Windu. Perhaps it was time to take his master's advice yet
again and see if a persistent and petulant arousal could be
dispersed into the Force by writing about it.
He got himself another cup of wine, loosened his leggings a
bit, and sat down to write.
***
I wake when the lights in the bedroom come on, full lighting
tearing through my eyelids. An astonishing sight greets my
eyes: My master kneeling at the foot of his bed, where I have
been sleeping, naked, his arms behind his back.
And beside him, his first padawan, Eidanna Ngocean, newly made
a master of the Jedi Temple.
She is dressed only in a loose unbelted robe as red as wine,
which partially covers her breasts but gives me a clear view of
coppery-red pubic hair. One hand is on our master's shoulder,
and the other hand holds a loose trailing scarf.
"I brought him home, padawan," she says. Her deep voice
caresses my skin and stimulates the nerve endings. "Now, are
you going to play nicely, or do I have to tie you up, too?" She
waves the scarf at me threateningly.
I swallow down the lump in my throat. "I'll play nicely," I
say, in my best shy, hesitant young padawan voice. "As long as
you're nice to our master."
Eidanna looks down at Master and strokes his hair, smiling
fondly. "Why wouldn't I be nice to Qui-Gon? He's got the
biggest prick of any human male in the Temple. And I don't care
for sex with non-humans, or with females." She turns that smile
on me, tilting her head. "You and Quiggy are just the sort I
like to play with."
I sit up in bed, bat my braid out of my eyes, and smile
prettily. "And what sort of games do you like to play?"
She smiles back--the smile of a stalking predator as it closes
in on its prey. "Oh, this and that. Perhaps we should start
with a simple one--"
I find myself on my back, suddenly, with a long-legged woman
straddling my face. I am amazed and grateful that I did not
bash my skull on the headboard as I was thrown down. Then I
feel a demanding tug on my braid and promptly get to work.
The pink folds spread open for my attentions are already wet
and aromatic, and her clitoris is quite swollen. I do not,
however, detect the familiar taste and scent of my master's
semen, so they must not have fucked yet. Perhaps just thinking
about sex is enough to arouse Eidanna Ngocean to this degree.
Or perhaps subduing my master had something to do with it....
I lick, nibble, and suck devotedly for several minutes, after
which I make bold to run my hands up her thighs, which she
allows, and to get a hold of her bottom. She has a marvelous
arse, round and full, soft on the surface but with firm muscle
underneath. I lick and suck and nibble some more, wondering
whether she is going to come and whether I will have a chance
to put more than my tongue in her delicious cunt.
At last I hear a deep, satisfied sigh, which tells me that she
has either just come, or has been coming all along and is
finished now. I take a deep gulp of air when she moves away
from my face; I hadn't noticed how much I needed it During.
Kneeling on the bed beside me, she pats my cheek. "Don't you
look cute with your face all wet and shiny." She bends and
kisses just the tip of my nose. "And you smell good, too." I
make a show of licking my lips. "Now, come up here and kneel in
front of Quiggy."
It occurs to me now that "Quiggy" has not said anything during
this whole scenario. My master raises his head as I approach
the foot of the bed, and I see why: His former padawan has
gagged him. The gag covers the lower half of his face, but his
eyes look rather angry.
"Now, I'm going to take this gag out of Qui-Gon's mouth, and I
want to see you put something else in it, all right, sweet
boy?"
"Yes, master," I say obediently, which turns out to be just
the right thing. Eidanna laughs delightedly as she undoes the
gag behind Qui-Gon's head.
"Oh, I do like the sound of that! Now all the pretty padawans
will have to call me that, not just my own apprentice--"
She takes away the gag with a neat twist of her hand, and
Qui-Gon has just enough time to gasp out, "Obi-Wan," before I
slip the head of my cock in his mouth.
I don't thrust my prick down his throat and gag him. I don't
have to. Once offered a morsel of my flesh, Qui-Gon's lips
close around it, and he sucks me in, his dry mouth filling with
moisture as his tongue caresses me. I sigh a happy sigh,
arching backward with pleasure. The man is absolutely a master
at this, as he is at so many things. When I can open my eyes a
moment, I see that Eidanna has one foot propped on the bed and
is massaging her clitoris. Her eyes seem to be fixed on the
point where my cock enters Qui's mouth.
I'm not surprised, despite my pleasure, when Qui-Gon suddenly
pulls away. I open my eyes again and see Eidanna's hand twined
in his hair--of course she wasn't planning to let me climax
just yet. I'm also not surprised when she pushes me back onto
the bed and settles herself over me.
"Just lie still, pretty boy. I'll do all the work."
I lie still and obey. Eidanna lowers herself onto my prick,
taking in just the head. She touches her clitoris with two
fingers, and her muscles flutter around me, teasingly. I lie
perfectly still, resisting temptation. She eases down onto me a
little more; I have to fight my instincts to push upward. I try
not to think about the advantages of fucking a woman, like
natural lubrication, and the greater control possible to the
vaginal muscles. I try not to think about fucking at all, but
about grammatical niceties of Huttese or something....
Suddenly Eidanna drops her weight onto me, hard. I must have
passed her test by not trying to take control. I moan, she
moans, and Qui-Gon moans--he must have a lovely view of her
arse, and of where our bodies join. Mustn't think about that
either--wish she'd let me come already, it's not like I
couldn't have recovered quickly....
She rocks back and forth on me, long slow strokes that don't
let me out of her very much. I get away with lifting my hips a
bit in response. Her eyes close, and her face takes on a look
of distant concentration,
rather as if she were hearing music from far away and trying
to identify the tune. She really is a beautiful woman, with
those high cheekbones and that mane of coppery hair. Her
breasts are high and firm and not too large, supported by
strong pectoral muscles almost as defined as mine, and her
nipples are small and pink, a personal favorite of mine. I feel
her quaking inside, each climax more intense than the last.
"Eidanna," Qui-Gon rasps. His voice is as husky as hers now.
"Eidanna...."
She lets out a small, sharp cry and suddenly starts riding me
furiously, up-and-down-up-and-down in a desperate, impatient
rhythm. I reach for her to grasp her hips or shoulders, to move
with her somehow, but she pins my hands to the bed and moves
harder. I could throw her off, but it's not worth it--better to
let her take me where we both want to go.
Again she sighs at her climax, a long sweet "Ah!" as her body
clenches fiercely around me. For a moment I'm afraid I won't
get my penis back. Then she sinks forward, smiling, and kisses
my cheeks, my forehead, my chin, before climbing off me and
slipping out of the room.
After a moment, I drag myself up against the cushions and look
at Qui-Gon. "Having fun, master?" I inquire.
He growls at me but has no chance to speak--Eidanna comes back
from the recycler, smiling and swinging her hips. "Ready for
another round, Obi-Wan? You've managed to sit up."
A slight disadvantage of sex with women: Their capacity
for orgasm is infinite compared to a man's, and their recovery
time negligible. That is to say, they are insatiable, and perky
besides.
Not that I'm complaining.
"What did you have in mind, master?" I inquire sweetly.
My jaw drops to my lap when she holds up a dildo, already
neatly fastened into a harness.
Eidanna chuckles. "So, the great sensualist Obi-Wan has never
been fucked by a woman."
"I'll try anything once," I aver.
"And twice if it feels good," Qui-Gon mutters.
Laughing again, Eidanna straps the harness around her loins.
"Then I hope this feels good enough to try twice."
With a few brisk orders and a strong helping hand, she
positions us to her liking. Me on my hands and knees in the
middle of the bed. Qui-Gon, his hands now bound to the
bedposts, partly underneath me, his cock just below my mouth.
And herself behind me, a fresh jar of Pleasure Liquid in her
hand.
Lucky me.
I hold still for a moment while Eidanna starts to prepare me,
getting used to the coolness of the lubricating cream and the
touch of her fingers, callused like Qui's, like mine, but
slender, with slightly longer nails than I'm used to feeling.
Then I dip my head and mouth the crown of my master's cock.
Qui moans, loudly. He hasn't come yet, and his cock is so hard
it feels like the skin might break under my tongue, split open
like the skin of a ripe fruit. I'll have to be very careful and
very skillful to make this last; he could easily come in three
breaths, if I let him. But I'm not going to.
I groan softly around his flesh as Eidanna crooks her finger
against my prostate. Obviously this is something she's done
before, and she does it well. Two fingers slip inside me, and I
tenderly paint Qui-Gon's shaft with my tongue, wetting it all
over, tasting its own salty fluid.
Eidanna's fingers go away. "You feel ready, sweet boy."
"Yes, I'm ready." I try not to pant too obviously.
My head snaps back as the slickened dildo slides into me. It's
almost as big as Qui, but not quite, hard and smooth, and used
as skilfully as flesh. Ah, good.... I take it all the way in
with a little twist of my hips and go back to working on Qui.
There's a lot to be said for Jedi training. In this case, it
helps me do two things at once: Give my beloved master a slow
and thorough pleasuring with my mouth while letting my own
pleasure in penetration build up just as slowly. Eidanna takes
my cues well, matching her thrusts to the rhythm of my head
bobbing over Qui's cock; I may be the bottom here, penetrated
twice over, yet I'm unmistakably the one in control. And I like
it like this. Not until I'm letting Qui-Gon fuck my mouth
without restraint does Eidanna fuck me the same way, and our
three orgasms come close together. Perfect.
***
Obi-Wan was so engrossed in his writing that he did not hear
the door open, nor the sound of two pairs of feet crossing the
carpet with Jedi smoothness. And then he had no chance to move
before two heavy hands came down on his shoulders--Eidanna's
and his master's.
"Hm. Pretty good writing," Eidanna said.
"He has a certain... flair for the genre," Qui-Gon agreed.
"And quite an imagination."
"My padawan is quite inventive."
The two hands moved from holding down his shoulders to lifting
him up by the elbows. Eidanna bent her head and came nose to
nose with him.
"Padawan Kenobi," she asked, conversationally, "are you
familiar with the colloquial meaning of the phrase, 'She's
packing'?"
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