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Rating: NC-17 plus, for that sheer oh my god what the ---?? quality
Series: The Adventures of Marshmallow
Categories Q/O, kink--much kink, sukebe.
Archive: MA, anywhere else, just ask
Feedback: Yes, please.
Summary: Qui-Gon loves his Obi-Wan, Daddy loves his Princess, and everyone loves Marshmallow.
Disclaimers If GL wants to claim these Jedi, well. We'd owe the man an apology for misjudging him, wouldn't we?
Warnings: It's just a maddening perversity of wrongness. Further warnings at the end of the fic.
Notes: No real plushies were harmed in the making of this fic. No betas other than ourselves. Posted a while back to TMI now posting it here to show that we can write really perverse Jedi as well as kinky Sith.
Dedicated to Emu, who, as she so often does, showed us the way.
Obi-Wan was in pink. He was in a short pair of pink pajamas, to be precise--satin--and pigtails. He did this so that Qui-Gon would know just what to expect when he walked in; they were very good at playing, and Obi-Wan could put on any number of disguises with varied, but almost predictable, results. Some days it was leather, some days it was oil.
Only that night, it wasn't so much what he was wearing as what he was doing. Literally.
He was doing a bear.
A big, pink bear.
He clutched it to him, moaning softly as he ground against the near-threadbare pink plush at one end -- the ass end, to be precise, as there was nowhere else on the large carnival toy he'd fit just so. He'd long since decided he rather liked the feel of fur through satin. He was starting to really get into it when Qui-Gon burst in.
Qui-Gon stopped in the doorway and just stared. His Obi-Wan -- no, the satin and pigtails told him that this was his Princess. His Princess, his precious little girl, was humping her favorite bear. That tight little pink satin-clad ass caught the light every time Princess thrust against the toy.
Soft little moans and whimpers came from the bed, and Qui-Gon had to remind himself to close his mouth as a powerful wave of lust, and irritation, washed over him. It wasn't so much that Princess was using a toy to find her pleasure as it was that she was doing it without her Daddy's permission.
Daddy didn't like it when Princess did anything without his permission, let alone something that involved sex. Because when it came to sex, Princess was Daddy's and Daddy's alone.
"What are you doing, girl?" he demanded in the quiet, low tone that he resorted to when truly angry.
Obi-Wan -- Princess -- jumped and hastily shoved the bear away from him -- her. Her maddeningly changeable eyes went wide, her mouth opened in surprise, and she scrambled up against the headboard, panicked.
"Daddy--I--I didn't--!" she managed to get out, using the near-falsetto tones Obi-Wan perfected for just these occasions. He tucked his smoothly-shaved legs up against his chest, hugging them in fright.
Glowering, Qui-Gon approached the trembling figure of his beloved Princess. "I asked you a question, child." he folded his arms over his chest as he waited for an answer, glad that the conservative business attire he wore for these scenes covered his growing arousal. His lover always threw himself so thoroughly into the role and Qui-Gon couldn't help responding, feeling the familiar aura of paternal authority settle around him as if it were his Jedi cloak.
"I--I was--" Princess dropped her eyes, chewing at her bottom lip and frowning. "I was playing, Daddy..." The words were barely whispered. "With the bear."
Qui-Gon just looked at her. "Playing," he repeated. "With the bear." He paused again. "How were you playing, precious?"
The bear lay there glaring openly, and Princess looked at it as though it would help her, but of course she had to answer the question on her own. Daddy didn't like it when she didn't answer questions properly.
"I was--I was--" But she couldn't do it. Her face crumpled and she crawled toward Daddy on the bed, pleading. "Daddy, I'm sorry, all I could think was how nice it would feel, and it was, and then I couldn't stop..."
Qui-Gon's voice was still quiet and deadly as he answered her. "You know that you're not supposed to play like that without Daddy's permission." When Princess nodded, her face full of contrite misery, Qui-Gon continued. "So it felt good, did it?"
Nodding, Princess lowered her eyes. She slumped a little, tucking her hands into her lap and struggling to resist the urge to shift so that the satin would slide over her skin just a little.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whispered again. "I know I'm not supposed to."
Qui-Gon reached out and grasped one shiny pigtail. Tugging gently, he pulled her head up so her eyes met his. "We've already established that. I'm asking you how good it felt."
"It was really good," Princess blurted, thinking that maybe if Daddy got complete, total honesty, then maybe he'd understand, or maybe he'd just spank her instead of not punishing her at all, which was always worse. No punishment meant no making up, and no making up meant Daddy might come up with something really bad later.
"It was so good," she went on, eyes wide and sincere, "that I wished--I wished I had more animals, because--because--" Princess suddenly realized she was telling much more than she'd meant to, but there was no help for it now. Daddy would never let her stop telling now that she'd started. "Because I'm wearing Marshmallow out." She pointed at the ass end of the bear, whose fur was wearing thin in very particular spots.
Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes and his hand tightened in her soft red-gold hair. "You've been using Marshmallow for a long time haven't you, Princess?" The part of him that remained Jedi Master Jinn, regardless of the scenario, realized that the bear he'd once won at some alien carnival for his young Padawan had seen this sort of use long before he and Obi-Wan had ever been lovers, let alone started playing this perverse little game.
A perverse little game, hmmm? he thought, an idea spinning into his head.
"Show me," he said aloud. "Show me what you do with Marshmallow." He let go of Princess' hair and stood back, gesturing to the bear.
What was left of Obi-Wan's rational mind realized that Princess's big mouth had just confessed something the Jedi had never intended to confess. He could see the realization dawning in Qui-Gon's eyes, and it crossed his mind to just call a halt--to throw his head back and laugh and pull the pigtails out and just--
But he realized that'd never do. His mind, that is, was screaming for him to call a halt, because this was fast spinning into an area where he didn't want to go. But his cock begged to differ, and it won. Every time.
He moved to the bear and turned its glaring face away. Flushing with more than mock role-induced embarrassment, Obi-Wan nevertheless gritted his teeth and pulled the Princess facade firmly around him again.
Princess threw one leg over the hips of the bear, holding it close. It was a very big bear, and soft, but not too soft. Glancing up at Daddy and holding back a wince at the stern, dark expression on his face, Princess began to shift her hips against the bear dutifully, hitching in a surprised little breath that it felt so good so suddenly. Better, in fact, than it ever had.
Staring at his little girl's ass was, as usual, enough to turn Daddy from observer into participant. "You're such a good little girl," he said, his voice rough as he pulled his coat off and unfastened his leggings. As Princess continued to grind her sweet body against the bear, he moved onto the bed behind her. "Don't stop, Princess. Daddy doesn't mind sharing you with Marshmallow."
He brought his cock out of his leggings and pressed up against Princess' undulating ass. "Mmmmm, so soft, so sweet ... Daddy loves his Princess."
So, as Princess thrust against the big, pink toy, her Daddy rubbed his cock against her tight, pretty ass, his hands busy rubbing her nipples through the slippery satin of her pajama top.
Princess couldn't possibly imagine the situation getting any more terrifyingly good. Daddy didn't mind sharing her with Marshmallow--!
"Oh..." Princess moaned, burying her face in the soft fur on top of the bear's head. "Oh, Daddy, thank you..."
Daddy mirrored her movement, burying his own face in Princess' sweet-smelling hair. He thrust harder against her firm, young body, forcing her to move faster against the bear. "From now on...." he gasped out breathlessly, "you have to let Daddy watch you with Marshmallow. Daddy likes ... watching his ... Princess ... likes seeing her ... feel good."
It was somehow even more intense than it ever had been, as if somehow Marshmallow himself made all the difference in the world. Qui-Gon couldn't help dropping the Daddy persona enough to imagine Obi-Wan at the age of 15 or so -- right about the time his Padawan had started shielding much harder than normal -- rubbing against the bear. Selfishly, he wondered if Obi-Wan had ever murmured his Master's name against the soft fur.
"Yes... yes," Princess breathed, only now it was getting harder for Obi-Wan to hang onto Princess with the soft cushion of bear against his front and the solid heat of Qui-Gon behind him. Struggling to hold onto the fantasy, Obi-Wan reached up and back around Daddy's neck, feeling the brush of strange civilian cloth where Jedi tunics normally were.
"Don't ever... do it without you... anymore, Daddy," Princess moaned softly, and tucked the bear yet further between her legs, shoving backward at the same time.
"Good," Qui-Gon growled, letting the sound of Princess' soft submissive voice bring him that much closer to orgasm. "Because you're Daddy's little girl ... only Daddy's ... right? Tell me, Princess ... who are you?"
"Oh--Daddy's--oh, please--Daddy's little--ah--girl--please--"
"Please what ... Princess?" Daddy asked, one hand wrapped around Princess' arm and the other clutching Marshmallow's pudgy pink paw. He thrust even faster against that sleek, slippery ass; shoving Princess against her beloved toy as hard he could.
For Obi-Wan, it was happening the way it always did; the struggle to hold onto the role slid off under the sheer heat of it, and the giggling perversity of it gave way to need. Princess suddenly wanted Daddy inside her, but there wasn't time, and stopping was not within the realm of possibility.
"Please!" she nearly sobbed. "Please let me come, Daddy, need to so bad--"
The naked hunger in her voice ripped under Qui-Gon's skin and he moved one hand down to hold her slim hip. All it ever took for either of them at this stage of this game were four little words. Daddy held them back as long as he could, stretching the moment out until his whole body burned with the need to come. Then, looking down at the insanely perverse view beneath him, he spoke those words. "Come for Daddy, Princess."
Even as he spoke he was coming, his cock thrusting helplessly against the wet satin, his body heavy on the smaller, slimmer form beneath him.
Crying out in a voice that was no little girl's, Princess managed another half-thrust before coming, shuddering madly between the abused stuffed animal and the hard, business-suited man.
Slowly, Qui-Gon's weight over him, over the bear, brought Obi-Wan back to himself.
"Force," he whispered, at once hotly embarrassed and still keenly turned on. "What the fuck just happened here?"
Qui-Gon realized, with a sudden surge of his own embarrassment, that he was still holding Marshmallow's paw. "Um..." he said a little sheepishly, relinquishing his hold on the bear and moving off Obi-Wan's back. "I just helped you fuck your bear?"
"Helped me fuck my..." Obi-Wan trailed off, groaning. He covered his eyes with one hand and shoved the bear, only slightly sticky (as most of the come remained trapped inside the satin pajama bottoms), off the bed.
"Look," he tried again, opting for a more reasonable tack. "What I said a while ago--what "Princess" said -- that was -- well I don't want you to think I --" Sighing, Obi-Wan gave up. There wasn't any polite way to say he'd been mock-fucking his stuffed bear for eleven years, and then ask Qui-Gon not to look at him funny. There just wasn't.
Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan into his arms, letting his lover bury his face in Qui-Gon's neck. "Oh love. When I realized what you said ... if I'd been upset or repulsed or even amused, do you think I would have hesitated to call a halt to the scene?" Qui-Gon reached up and pulled the hair ties off one by one, letting Obi-Wan's shoulder-length hair fall loose.
Sighing, hiding, and clinging, Obi-Wan shook his head. "No... I just wish..."
Qui-Gon held him close. "You wish what, Obi-Wan? That I'd never known?"
"I wish I'd known you'd understand," Obi-Wan mumbled against Qui-Gon's neck. "But part of me wishes I'd never had to use Marshmallow like that, because part of me always wished it was you."
Qui-Gon held Obi-Wan closer. "Oh Obi-Wan ... Daddy can love Princess, but you know full well that a Master cannot love his Padawan that way. They would have tossed me out of the Order." He let his voice go a little lower. "But there's nothing to stop you from putting a braid in your hair, Padawan. Because," and he slid his hand down along Obi-Wan's hip. "Next time, I want to be fucking my virgin Padawan in the ass while he rubs his cock against the bear I gave him."
Breath sticking in his throat, Obi-Wan could only nod. After a long moment, he croaked softly, "Yes, Master."
end