Archive: You want it, you got it. Be sure to drop us a line to
let us know though, won't you
Rating: I'd most definitely say NC-17
Feedback: Loved it? Loathed it? Couldn't give a damn? Tell me
anyway. Email address is Adelaide@morganne.freeserve.co.uk
Spoilers: Nope, not a single one.
Disclaimer: The Star Wars world and all it's inhabitants are
the property of George Lucas. Obi-Wan's poem, entitled Whips
and Chains, is written by a friend who doesn't want their name
attached and is used by permission, unlike everything else
herein.
Summary: Qui-Gon inadvertently reads Obi-Wan's journal, and
discovers he doesn't know his apprentice as well as he thought
he did
"Master, I know I shouldn't really ask you, as it's not my
place."
Qui-Gon Jinn interrupted before Obi-Wan could say any more.
"Padawan, you can ask me anything, you should know that by now"
"I know, but. " Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed as he ran his eyes over
the piles of work he had spread all over their room. "Could you
possibly get me a datapad from my room. I really need my
Polaric dictionary for this"
"Of course Padawan. Where in your room is it?"
"Umm. as far as I know, it's in the middle drawer of my
cabinet." Obi-Wan looked up from his studies on the history of
Polaris to flash Qui-Gon a brilliant grin. "And Master,"?
"Yes Padawan?"
"Thanks!"
Qui-Gon rose from his seat and carefully made his way across
the floor to Obi-Wan's bedroom, being mindful not to step on
any of Obi-Wan's work which was spread far and wide all over
the room.
He made his way to the cabinet on the other side of Obi-Wan's
room and opened the middle drawer. The slight that befell him
amazed Qui-Gon; the drawer was an absolute mess, no semblance
of the impeccable organisation that was obvious in all other
aspects of his Padawan's life. He sighed and started routing
around for the disc he was looking for. A few minutes later
when he still hadn't found the Polaric dictionary, Qui-Gon's
eyes became drawn to a black leather-bound book - an actual
book, with pages composed of paper. The fact that Obi-Wan had
such a possession intrigued Qui-Gon immensely; Obi-Wan had
never been a fan of such antiques, preferring the digital word
to the written.
His curiosity forced Qui-Gon to pick the book up, revelling in
the feel of the soft leather between his hands. The book had no
title written on it anywhere, so he turned the page. The first
crisp white page had but one line of text written on it, in his
padawan's spidery handwriting: Property of Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Almost straight away Qui-Gon's mind started screaming No.
Whatever this book was, it was private to Obi-Wan, not for him
to read. He had no right to even have it in his hands, there
was no way he would break the trust between them by reading it.
He would not turn the page, he would not, he was not interested
in it.
Even as he was berating himself for contemplating reading
something private of Obi-Wan's, his hands were already turning
the pages.
'Your heart is mine' He commands
My body suspended by His hands
Which roam over my body
Tantalising and teasing
My arms lifted and hands bound
I protest and am punished for the sound
The leather shrapnel smash against me
The endless waves of pleasure
Cascade, my body thrashes
And He chains me,
I'm His prisoner
Yet I want to be
His touch is harsh but warm
I swing suspended by silver metal
He takes one and wraps it round
My face so the kinks of chain
Are like a horses' bit, all
I can taste is the metal
Yet then He's there
Flesh, metal, flesh
He breaks, He is in control
I crave for Him
I tell Him so
Again I'm punished
The tears are there
But I love the way His
Deft fingers pull the restraints
When He has had enough
When He is ready
He takes me
And I love him
He is my Master
Qui-Gon's breath quickened as he read the words Obi-Wan had
committed to the page. Could it be true? All rational thought
left his mind as the image of Obi-Wan, chained and pleading for
his love flooded his senses. He calmed himself enough to turn
to the next page of the book.
I am blindfolded and chained to the bed, my body stretched to
its limits, and painfully aroused. Every nerve ending
stimulated by his touch. I can hear him moving about the room,
but I know not what he is doing. After what feels like an
eternity, he returns hands roaming once more over my body. I
try to arch body up to meet His touch, but when I do he stops
and moves away. I can hear him rustling something, opening a
drawer I think. He moves back to the bed and sits down next to
me. His hands play over my nipples, teasing them until they are
fully erect. He take first one, then the other into His warm,
wet mouth, suckling as though he were a babe. He rubs His hands
once more over them, and I can no longer stay silent as he
wants me to. Screams of raw passion erupt from my lungs, and I
start moaning His name in need. A slap, then another to my face
remind me to remain silent, but, although it is His wish, I
cannot. He reaches to the cabinet beside the bed. The next
sensation is of som ething metallic and cold on my right
nipple. The jagged jaws of the clamp bite down on my arouse
flesh. My body bucks and I scream in pain, but it feels so
good. He places one hand on my stomach, holding me down whilst
my other nipple receives the same treatment.
Qui-Gon had to physically shake himself. There were rational
sections of his brain that were berating him for reading this,
and also for hoping that Obi-Wan might be fantasising about
him.
But the section of the brain that controlled his actions and
already sent the order to turn to the next page.
"Master, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Please for."
"Silence" he thunders throwing me against the wall and holding
me there, spread-eagled with the force. I am already naked, I
am never allowed clothing in private. He divests himself of
clothing, slowly revealing His sumptuous, muscular body to me.
As each new section of His skin is revealed, he rubs those
elegantly long and lithe fingers over them. Down over His
chest, pausing to play with His nipples, hardening them to
little erect nubs, His breath coming in little gasps. He traces
the muscles of His stomach, teasing me, punishing me. He knows
how I ache to touch him, the evidence showing VERY clearly and
I know he knows because he hasn't once taken His eyes off me. I
wonder how much longer I can cope, without starting to. Oh
Force no, anything but that. He's has removed His pants,
stepping out of them. He too is now as naked as the day he was
born, and has a very prominent erection. As I watch, unable to
look away, one of those graceful hands wraps itself around it
and His thumb tr aces over the tip. His breathing is fast and
ragged, and I am gasping for breath and moaning. I cant help
it- I start to thrash against the force-restraints holding me
against this wall, I need to touch him, need him to touch me.
Qui-Gon realised that he had started to mirror the action of
whoever it was Obi-Wan was writing about, that his hand had
moved into his pants and was curled about his own erection. He
also found himself to be achingly hard and desperate for
release. He blinked rapidly and looked around guiltily before
removing his hand and turning to the next page in the book.
I can feel the cold stone floor beneath me. I cannot see for
the blindfold around my eyes, nor can I move due to the leather
restraints holding me immobile. Leather straps wrapped around
my cold body; one round my ankles, one just below my knees and
one above. One round my hips. My wrists are bound beneath me by
another strap. My arms too are secured by a number of straps.
One just below my elbows and again, one above. The tops of my
arms are strapped to keep them still. It's not as if I could
have moved them anyway. The last strap is around my chest, over
my nipples. Of course He had teased my nipples so they were
extremely sensitive before he bound them, and the sensation of
the leather pressing against them is overwhelming.
I cannot move, I am at His mercy, His to so with as he pleases.
I do not know how long I had been lying here before He
returned, but now He is here I can only pray he is here to give
me the release my body demands. He runs His hands all over my
body, but avoids the one place that craves His touch. He checks
all the straps, and tightens them even more, making me moan.
"Master. Qui-Gon please.." I beg.
The crack of a whip across my stomach has me arching up, the
tears threatening.
"Did I give you permission to speak my name?"
"N.. No Master" Oh shit, what have I done now. I'm really in
for it. Master, I'm sorry, really I am, I plead silently,
knowing if I was to speak out loud my punishment would be
worse.
At long last His hands stroke the insides of my thighs. I try
to arch up to meet His touch, to squirm to make His hands touch
my penis. All I receive for my trouble is another whipping on
my stomach. His hands do move to caress my penis though,
feather-like touches that are barely there, but are enough to
excite me. As I respond to His touch His hand moves faster and
more firmly, bringing me so close to the edge that I am
thrashing in my bonds, moaning and whimpering, but He leaves me
there, denies me the pleasure.
"Open your mouth" He demands. I know better than to disobey a
direct order, so I comply. Another strap goes around the back
of my head, and something large and round is forced into my
mouth, keeping it open. The air of the room vibrates as He
sends a force suggestion of some description to my body, I do
not know what though. He snaps something cold and metallic
around my neck, and immediately I am cut off from the force; a
force collar, damn Him.
"Remember little one, that you are mine. Totally mine. As I'm
sure you know, I have given your body it's orders and they are
very simple ones; you are not allowed to cum until I tell you
that you can. Also your erection will not subside until you do.
You are at my mercy"
The only thought running through Qui-Gon's mind was 'me?
Obi-wan means me? Obi-Wan. wants me! My padawan, the most
beautiful man ever wants me to do that to him.. Oh Force
let it be true..'
And so he turned to the next page.
His little one. That's what he calls me. Never Obi-Wan, or even
Padawan, only little one. Its humiliating and degrading I know
it is, but it turns me on. The way he owns and controls me,
ties me up to sexually torture me, every little aspect is so
sensually erotic.
<sigh> What I wouldn't give for Qui-Gon Jinn to possess
me like this.. I would willingly submit to him, give him
everything I am.
"Master, why is it taking you so long to.." Obi-Wan froze in
the doorway to his room, jaw dropped in shock, face paled as he
saw the book Qui-Gon had in his hands. Qui-Gon slowly turned to
face his padawan, who started backing slowly out of the door
shaking his head in disbelief.
The Jedi Master held out one hand to his padawan. "Come here,
my little one"
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