Author's Page: https://www.squidge.org/~ndannais
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: NC17 (very mild bondage)
Category: PWP
Archive: Master and Apprentice--anyone else ask please
Summary: Obi-Wan's had it with being a second-class sex toy.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, much less these fine
characters--although I own a couple of action figures of them,
does that count? Probably not. Oh well, I refuse to make any
money off them in any event, so please don't sue me.
Notes: Thank yous to kaly, Kimdy, Cori, Kristi and a lurker or
two [g] for the betas!! This can be blamed on my own
frustration at writer's block. I think. [g]
"Do you know what it's like?" Obi-Wan checked the tightness of
the leather strap at the head of the bed, nodded as it refused
to give, and walked calmly to the foot. "Always being told what
to do, never being allowed to decide for yourself where you can
go, what you can wear, how you can cut your hair?" He finished
tightening the last strap with more force than necessary.
Qui-Gon winced as the leather bit into his wrist. "Of course I
do, Padawan." At the title, Obi-Wan yanked on the strap again.
"Obi-Wan," his master amended, "I had a master. I had to do as
I was told. The hair cut looked terrible on me--at least you
can wear it."
"You're not helping your cause."
"I still haven't figured out what my cause is. Why are
you doing this?"
Finally content that the straps would hold, Obi-Wan sat on the
edge of the bed, just short of touching Qui-Gon's right side.
"You have been a master too long," he said, soft voice laced
with steel. "This is never going to work between us until you
remember what it's like not to be the one in control."
"I have never tried to control you; not in our personal life."
Obi-Wan shook his head slowly. "And the fact that you believe
that is proof that this must be done." He raised one knee onto
the bed, then the other, hands moving toward Qui-Gon's head, a
black cloth clenched in one fist. "Close your eyes."
"I will not."
"Suit yourself then. The blindfold might hurt with them open,
though."
"Blindfold? Obi-Wan, I demand that you stop this at once!"
Obi-Wan stopped, his face inches from his master's. His lips
curved into a small smile. "You don't get to demand. Not here."
The words were quiet as he covered the older man's eyes with
the black cloth, plunging Qui-Gon's world into darkness.
Qui-Gon was too stunned to even struggle. He laid there,
trying to figure out how he'd gotten roped into this
position--roped being an accurate word. His padawan had seduced
him onto the bed, that much was clear in his mind. And then
suddenly he'd found one of his arms tied to the headboard.
Before he could react, the other was bound as well.
He could have used the Force to release himself, but he'd
waited to see if Obi-Wan gave a reason for his sudden apparent
insanity. And now he was completely bound, hands and feet
practically immovable. There was only just enough room for him
to lift his knees enough to...A bolt of passion raced through
him. To be taken by Obi-Wan would not be a bad thing, though
the blindfold was discomfiting. Even with all his other senses,
he felt, well, blind without his eyes.
"Obi-Wan...I did not realize you felt so...trapped."
"Trapped is not quite the word I'd use. At least not for me."
The words were soft and low, spoken close to Qui-Gon's ear,
warm breath gusting over his cheek, igniting further fire in
him. Qui-Gon shivered as he cleared his throat. "Unequal,
then."
"I don't feel unequal, Master, not in this." This time the
words were spoken at the juncture of Qui-Gon's neck and
shoulder. And still Obi-Wan had not touched him except to put
the ties and blindfold on. "I feel you treat me as though I am
unequal. There is a difference."
"And this will help?" Qui-Gon barely suppressed another shiver
as he felt Obi-Wan's breath along his side, down his torso,
pausing at his hip.
"I certainly hope so. But if not, at the very least I promise
it will be fun."
The tone Qui-Gon could hear in his padawan's voice did nothing
to increase his security. He wasn't sure he liked this total
loss of control--in fact, he was most definitely sure that he
did not like it.
Qui-Gon felt the press of skin on his hip a moment before the
rough wetness of his apprentice's tongue slid against the
smooth skin there. The mind-shattering trace of Obi-Wan's lower
lip following the trail of his tongue gave Qui-Gon a reason to
reconsider his decision on loss of control. Anything that felt
that good couldn't be all bad.
His stomach contracted at the slight nip of teeth as they made
their way across his abdomen. The movement raised his hips in
return, his hardening shaft brushing against Obi-Wan's arm or
chest--he wasn't sure which. The contact drew a gasp from him
as he writhed up harder against the warm body above him, eager
for more contact.
The Force pinned him to the bed, denying him even the
slightest brush of the silky skin of his padawan. He struggled
for a moment and Obi-Wan stopped. Qui-Gon let out a frustrated
growl as he felt the young man's body heat recede as he pulled
away.
"You can't control everything. Sooner or later, you have to
trust someone enough to be controlled."
The voice was close enough that he knew Obi-Wan hadn't gone
far, but any distance that wasn't touching was too far. With an
effort, Qui-Gon stilled his body and waited.
Seconds ticked by, unbearably long moments as he remained
still. Finally he felt the heat draw closer, felt the bed sink
slightly to his right side, and then a hand warm upon his
stomach.
"That's better."
The Force restraint melted away, leaving Qui-Gon free to move,
but he waited, conscious of the fact that any action on his
part would cause Obi-Wan to move away. A soft chuckle sounded
from somewhere near the Jedi Master's ear.
"You're learning."
A long glide of a tongue down the side of his neck and then
teeth fastened on his shoulder. Qui-Gon arched forward, pulling
against his restraints, wanting to hold Obi-Wan's head there,
to keep that incredible sensation of being marked. His
struggles only caused his padawan to move away from him again.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No!" he barked before he could think about the consequences.
He heard the bed creak, felt his apprentice moving away again.
For several moments, the only sound in the room was that of
air cars speeding by. Finally, he heard Obi-Wan's voice from a
far corner of the room. "Shall we try again?"
He could picture his padawan just from the tone of voice,
imagined him leaning against the wall, arms folded,
disapproving scowl firmly in place. He was sorely tempted to
push Obi-Wan's limits, see how far the young man was willing to
go in this. If it was really that important to him, then he
would be willing to earn whatever lesson he was trying to teach
his master.
But if it wasn't important, Obi-Wan would never have gone to
these lengths to begin with. That left it up to Qui-Gon to go
along, to a point, and to listen and learn. One good reason to
do as he was told.
A few seconds notice as the bed dipped again, and he felt warm
skin on his legs, and then Qui-Gon's erection was surrounded in
wet heat. He thrust up into his padawan's mouth, unable to keep
himself from moving, and found himself alone again on the bed
immediately.
He took a deep, ragged breath. Control was one thing, but
would Obi-Wan simply prefer he not react at all? The rules of
this game were not at all clear, and there was only one way to
figure them out before they drove him mad. "I don't
understand," he admitted quietly.
"Precisely." There was a satisfied tone in Obi-Wan's voice,
"You're not in control. How does it feel?"
"I...." Qui-Gon stopped. What answer was his padawan looking
for? Of course he didn't like not being in control--who did? It
made him angry. It was unsettling, it was a bit frightening, it
was...erotic.
He frowned. That certainly wasn't a word he would have thought
applied to his situation. Lack of control was something to be
fixed; he'd been taught almost from birth.
Then again, there was a difference between controlling
yourself and being in control.
"I've cleared your schedule today, by the way." Now Obi-Wan's
voice was indulgent, almost amused. "We'll stay here all day if
that's what it takes."
Ah yes, the answer to the question. Obi-Wan would be looking
for honesty in the answer. And he would know if his master was
anything less than honest. "It feels...odd. Uncomfortable."
That, at least, was honest, if not the whole truth.
"A new lightsaber feels odd." Obi-Wan moved closer, sitting on
the bed again. "New boots are uncomfortable. Does that compare
to this?"
His hand closed over Qui-Gon's erection, gripped it tightly
and moved up and down in quick motions. Qui-Gon bit back a gasp
this time, forcing his hips to stay still. After a moment, the
hand stopped and the grip loosened, becoming a lazy caress of
fingertips.
"Much better." Obi-Wan's voice was as teasing as his hand now,
but both promised more to come.
Qui-Gon made an effort to control his breathing, forcing the
deep gasps his body wanted into slow, even breaths.
'You certainly seem to have mastered control," Obi-Wan said
lightly, hand moving to stroke his master's thighs. "Now I
wonder...can you lose it?"
"Lose control? I thought you wanted me under control."
"I do. Under my control. " Obi-Wan's voice was soft as
he placed kisses down the length of Qui-Gon's legs. "You've
shown that you can react as I ask. Now I want to see you react
without thinking first."
Qui-Gon swallowed nervously. "Are you saying you think I don't
always react naturally?"
"You react beautifully, my master, but I do not think you have
ever completely lost control."
"Of you?"
"Of me. Or of yourself." A tongue ran up the bottom of
Qui-Gon's foot from heel to ball. Before he could fully
disperse the shivers that sent through his body, Obi-Wan closed
his mouth around one of the older man's toes, teeth lightly
grazing the sensitive underside of the pad.
Qui-Gon tried to move his foot, eager for more, but the
restraints kept him from moving far enough to follow the
retreating mouth. He let out a soft whimper, unable to see,
unable to feel anything but the cool breeze brushing across the
wetness of his foot.
He waited, focusing on the feeling, remembering not to ask for
more, and was rewarded as Obi-Wan's mouth returned to kiss the
older man's instep. Lips, tongue and teeth tasted their way
past Qui-Gon's ankle, along the inside of his calf, the tongue
taking its time as it dipped into the bend behind his knee.
The Jedi Master could no longer regulate his breathing as that
mouth worked its way up the inside of his thigh. Obi-Wan tasted
the inside juncture of thigh and hip thoroughly, his nose
brushing against the tight sac underneath Qui-Gon's rock-hard
shaft.
He gasped and thrust toward that contact just once, but did
not demand attention. Instead, he lay back, breathing shallowly
as he ignored his need and focused on the feelings. If he
concentrated, Qui-Gon could feel the wet trail his padawan had
made up his leg, could still feel the young man's presence
lingering behind everywhere he had touched.
It felt like a private branding, and the very idea of it
caused him to shift restlessly against the sheets, hands
gripping the ties holding them to the bed. "Please...." he
whispered.
"Patience." The teasing note was still there, but Obi-Wan's
voice had grown huskier, the arousal that filled the Force
around them laced through the deep, cultured tones.
A light kiss was placed on the tip of Qui-Gon's erection and
then Obi-Wan was moving away again, turning his attention to
the other foot and working his way up that leg.
Qui-Gon gave himself over to the feelings, the lack of sight
forcing him to focus on the other senses that were suddenly
heightened. His nose was filled with the smell of sex and
Obi-Wan, the combination already so intertwined to him that
they were practically inseparable. He heard the soft groans and
whimpers of pleasure Obi-Wan made as he tasted Qui-Gon's skin,
the soft, wet sounds of his padawan's lips and tongue doing the
tasting.
Most of all, he felt. Obi-Wan's hands touching him, burning
his skin wherever they went. And the nibbles and licks, the
lingering sting that followed in their wake enough to make him
want to scream frustration, to demand his padawan finish this
before it drove him crazy.
He wanted completion. And he never wanted this to end.
But it wasn't about what he wanted. He realized suddenly that
that was Obi-Wan's point. Always, whether it was his own
pleasure Qui-Gon was striving for or Obi-Wan's, the Jedi Master
was the one who made the decisions, which was all fine and good
in their master-apprentice relationship. But it had no place in
the bedroom; not if they were to have equal footing in their
relationship.
He knew he'd brought Obi-Wan pleasure, but always at Qui-Gon's
direction. Never had he let Obi-Wan take the lead and control
the interaction. He'd held back a little, enjoying the feelings
he brought Obi-Wan as the younger man lost all control in a sea
of pleasure.
Now Obi-Wan was taking control by force. The thought sent a
shiver through Qui-Gon's body, further heightening the
sensations. Not being the one in control was scary. But he'd
been right when he'd thought it erotic as well.
Hands gripping the leather ties that held him in place,
Qui-Gon let go of the last thread of his self-control and gave
himself over to feeling. His world became fire, heat and
passion, his only reality one in which he was consumed by
Obi-Wan's desire.
The touch of Obi-Wan's tongue was like liquid flame, scorching
Qui-Gon into movement. Not the demanding movement of before,
but a twisting motion, as if he couldn't decide whether to move
closer to that fire, or away from it. He felt the burn of the
leather ties as they cut into his skin, realized he was
gripping the leather tightly, straining with the almost
unbearable tension in his body.
Qui-Gon heard his own voice, knew he was talking, but had no
idea what the words were. All he knew was desire. He barely
registered it when Obi-Wan moved over him, but he certainly
noticed when the younger man lowered himself slowly, encasing
Qui-Gon in his tight heat. Too lost to stop himself, Qui-Gon
thrust upward again and again. Obi-Wan's hands threaded through
his master's hair as he leaned down for a deep kiss that seemed
to go on forever. If only this could never end.... Even as the
thought crossed his mind, Qui-Gon felt white-hot pleasure
course through him with an intensity he'd never known. He
thrust hard one last time and came with a hoarse shout. Waves
of satisfaction continued to move through his body as he felt
Obi-Wan move a few more times, and then he felt the sticky heat
on his stomach as Obi-Wan reached his own completion.
Both men were breathing heavily as Obi-Wan collapsed on top of
his master, covering him in a hot, sweaty heap. It was the most
wonderful blanket Qui-Gon had ever had. Only after they had
each managed to calm a bit did Obi-Wan roll to the side,
sliding off to curve himself around his master's still-tied
body.
"Obi-Wan?"
"Mmm?" came the distracted response, as Obi-Wan placed small,
weak kisses on his master's chest.
"Thank you."
The blindfold was tugged up off his eyes. Bright blue eyes met
his, alight with the wide smile on the younger man's face.
"Thank you," he answered, going back to covering Qui-Gon's
chest with kisses with a renewed energy.
"Obi-Wan."
"Yes, Master?" The kisses were moving down the middle of
Qui-Gon's stomach now.
"Not that I'm complaining about your current activity, but you
do realize I'm still tied to the bed?"
The young man looked up, blinked, then smiled. "Well if it was
enjoyable the first time, Qui-Gon, imagine how much better the
second will be.
Qui-Gon thought briefly about protesting, but as the kisses
moved lower, decided against it. After all, he'd learned an
important lesson this way once tonight.
And Jedi never stopped learning. ----- end
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