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
Power
by Nicole D'Annais
Copyright 2000
"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.
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End
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This page owned and maintained by Nicole D'Annais.
Last updated 11/11/2000.