The Value of Patience

by Lorraine

Archive: M_A, others ask please
Pairing: Obi/Ani
Category: Kink, PWP
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I would say that George would never do this, but he's the one who chained up Obi in the first damn place! However, the characters belong to him. I'm just using them, I'm making no money here at all.
Summary: Just a little vignette. Someone is tied up, but this time it's F-U-N. <:)

He existed in that state where the pleasure was so complete, so all encompassing that pain became ecstasy. The burn enveloped his wrists, shot down to his groin and spreadout in a starburst of heat and passion.

He cried out and the burn stopped, he whimpered, suspended in a limbo of raw nerve-endings that begged for contact, but which were denied. In desperation, the pleasure transferred to those places where he was held and immobilized. The straps under his armpits bit exquisitely, he would have bit his lip if it wasn't made inaccessible by the tight gag in his mouth. The knot of it was shoved deep and was drenched in spittle. The man tongued it and moaned, it was the only thing he was allowed to touch. It had become his entire existence in this purgatory of sensory loss.

A voice whispered in his ear, it's owner's breath hot on his neck. He strained to listen, the sound was barely there, yet another torture of his overloaded senses. It tantalized him with wicked images, ones that made his cock twitch in ecstatic response. /Oh yesohyesohyes/ His fevered mind projected as he broke the rules and used the Force to propel the object of his passion closer. His reward was a harsh caning against his flanks, the burning sensation was back.

He howled in release, suddenly all of it was too much. The pain, the pleasure, the burn, the hot tight gag in his mouth, the straps that suspended him before his tormentor, they all pushed him further than he'd ever gone before and his body couldn't process it all. He spasmed and shot his load out into the dark abyss in an endless flowing stream.

He drifted, numb, the gentle hand on his chin elicited no response. Neither did the snick of the blade that cut loose the gag that bound his mouth and the blindfold that covered the upper part of his head. The straps under his pits were carefully unbuckled and he was gently lowered to the ground. A hand slapped his cheeks sharply, his eyes fluttered open revealing their bluish green depths. They smiled, exhausted up at the figure standing over him.

"Had enough?"

He looked at the training saber the other man held, on the lowest setting, it barely glowed. But the touch of it upon his skin was a burning caress. He let out a long shaky breath and said, "again, Padawan."

Anakin grinned and kicked his Master's training saber over to his feet. "OK, but this time, try to win. I think it's my turn."

Obi Wan Kenobi reached out with the force and brought his saber into his hand, palming it on with a touch.

"I believe it's time for another lesson in the value of patience." He told his apprentice with a wicked grin.