Category: BSDM, Angst
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: see Category
Spoilers: None
Summary: After a mission, a distraught Qui-Gon needs something out of the ordinary from Obi-Wan.
Feedback: You betcha! ghouses@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: "This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Lucasfilm, Ltd. No money is being made and no infringement is intended." That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Note1: /// indicates Qui-Gon's thoughts/meditations/visions.
Note2: Huge, big, really large thanks to my beta readers on this one. I had trouble with the beginning. Oh, and trouble with the end. And I forgot, trouble with the middle. Thanks go to Abigail not only for her beta but for specific BSDM information. RavenD, in addition to her beta, gave me the encouragement I needed to slog through and finish the darn thing, which I started back in April. Gloriana helped me **SO** much with the story structure and flow & caught about a jillion little errors - Thank you, ladies!! Of course if it still sucks, blame me, not them.
Inversion
by Glass Houses
June, 2000
*******
In·ver·sion (in-'v&r-zh&n, -sh&n)
1 : a reversal of position, order, form, or relationship
2 : the condition of being turned inward or inside out
*******
Qui-Gon Jinn could not find emotional calm nor could he relax physically.
He and Obi-Wan were on their way back to Coruscant from their seemingly successful diplomatic mission to Thessel, housed in plush quarters on a rather luxurious spaceliner. The transport was a gesture of respect from the ruling Thesselian Magistrates for their help. Qui-Gon felt anything but respectable. He knew now the agreement he'd urged all parties to sign would surely cause loss of life for the zealots who inhabited the Clasaac region of Thessel. He was enjoying the best these people had to offer, and for what?
They had been on board for nearly a day, and he'd spent much of that time pretending to sleep and trying to meditate. Each time he felt centered and opened himself to the Force, he was visited with visions. Visions from the mission itself and of Thessel's possible future; a disturbing mix of memory and prescience.
Obi-Wan sat in a plush chair at the room's comm station, tweaking their final mission report: the expected duty of a senior Padawan. Qui-Gon knelt on the carpeted floor near the large, comfortable bed and watched his Apprentice work, concentrating on Obi-Wan's precise and meticulous motions in another attempt to find his mental focus. But just as he closed his eyes and centered himself in the Force, Qui-Gon slipped past a state of meditation and deep into another vision.
///The sky was gray and the air was thick with ash. No sun, just dim, diffused light. No way to tell where the rumbling mountains met the sky. Qui-Gon had hoped the screaming flow of hot gasses which preceded most eruptions would make the end quick and painless, but that was not to be. Instead the magma flowed slowly, eating at and superheating the plain metal houses of the fourth Tribe one by one. The metal walls smoked, buckled and eventually melted, allowing the deadly flow entry. Anyone viewing the village would assume it was abandoned, but as the houses were slowly overcome, Qui-Gon heard muffled screams. The air was so hot now it was painful to breathe. Ash made him cough and blinded him as if he were in a sandstorm. He sank to his knees and could feel his skin blister as the flow crept closer and closer, pulsating like a living, virulent entity...///
The vision came to an abrupt halt and he realized Obi-Wan was shaking him. He was sweating, gasping for breath, and every muscle in his body was clenched.
Obi-Wan helped him to his feet, with a serious, worried expression. "I tried calling to you, Master, are you all right?" Qui-Gon nodded his head, but with the report transmitted, Obi-Wan obviously felt it was now time to see to his Master. Obi-Wan led him to the large bed, removed his boots, belt and tunics and insisted he lie face down. Gentle hands then tried to unknot the overstressed muscles in his back and neck through a deep oil massage. As Obi-Wan knelt beside him on the bed, working tense muscles, he spoke softly about their next mission and the latest news from his friends stationed at the Temple.
As Qui-Gon listened to the cultured voice, he tried to relax his body and allow his mind to only hear Obi-Wan's words. But with each attempt the same future-vision threatened and he would tense. Finally, he was brought back to the present by something Obi-Wan was saying.
"If you won't be still, Master, I'll have to tie your hands."
Qui-Gon turned his head towards his kneeling Padawan.
"Is that a threat you are willing to see through, Obi-Wan?" he said with a small smile. His eyes were sad, yet challenging.
Obi-Wan looked up from his work, surprised and a bit uneasy. They had teased each other from time to time since becoming lovers, but there was something in Qui-Gon's voice and expression that hinted at an urgent *need*.
With a muffled "hmmff" Obi-Wan picked up the sash he'd laid aside when removing Qui-Gon's tunic. Qui-Gon was stretched out on the bed, but his misbehaving hands were clutching a pillow, keeping his back muscles from truly relaxing. Without further ado, Obi-Wan positioned Qui-Gon's arms behind his back, then crossed and bound his wrists together.
Instead of returning to the grueling massage, however, he began to ghost his fingers along Qui-Gon's spine. Qui-Gon's head relaxed against the pillow again and he began to shiver at the light touch.
"More....please."
Had Obi-Wan heard right? It wasn't the words but their tone. Dark and husky, it was an actual plea. Qui-Gon's tension and anxiety were almost visible in his force aura. There was something that Qui-Gon wanted -- needed. Obi-Wan could feel it as though he was connected somehow with his Master. Feel it as if it was his own need. Something Qui-Gon obviously couldn't find through meditation.
"Please what?"
The briefest of hesitations before Qui-Gon answered.
"Please...Master."
Obi-Wan felt disoriented. It was not the answer to the question he had asked, but it told him what he needed to know. At that moment, with those words, he *knew* the depth of Qui-Gon's distress and the extent of what he wanted. He took a second to center himself. Could he do this for his Master? He had to try. When he spoke again, Obi-Wan's voice had changed. Still elegant and quiet, he now spoke slowly and his inflection turned cold.
"And what is it you're begging for, hmm? What shall I do with you?" All the while he lightly teased Qui-Gon's back with his fingers.
Qui-Gon was silent; it seemed as if he couldn't put what he wanted into words.
"Refusing to answer your Master? I think you need to be punished for that." Without warning, Obi-Wan raised himself on his knees, grabbed Qui-Gon's hair with one hand and yanked back.
Qui-Gon shouted in startlement, but quickly gathered his knees under him and rose up on them until he was leaning back against Obi-Wan's chest, his wrists bound, neck exposed, and face flushed.
"That's better. Much better indeed," Obi-Wan breathed into Qui-Gon's ear. Obi-Wan let dark desire wash over him as he drank in the beautiful form of his Master. Wearing only thin leggings, Qui-Gon's hair was disheveled from its treatment. His eyes were bright, and his breathing just slightly elevated.
Obi-Wan thrust his hips forward, pushing into Qui-Gon and almost unbalancing him. He ground his rapidly firming erection into Qui-Gon's ass.
"The sight of you like this makes me hard, and I'm just getting started. You will obey my commands. You will speak *only* when questioned. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Master."
"Good. Now put those hands to use and undo my belt and leggings."
With Obi-Wan still rubbing against his ass, Qui-Gon's bound hands struggled to undo the buckles on his belt and pants by touch. When he was done, Obi-Wan abruptly moved away from him and sat on the edge of the bed. "Get on the floor. Face me on your knees."
Qui-Gon complied, crawling clumsily on his knees to the edge of the bed then quickly kneeling on the floor in front of Obi-Wan.
"Look at me."
Qui-Gon moved his gaze from Obi-Wan's feet upwards, his eyes taking in the lean lines of Obi-Wan's body and glimpses of tanned flesh where Obi-Wan's tunic and waistband had fallen open. Very slowly, Obi-Wan removed his tunic, eyeing Qui-Gon with a stern, almost cold expression and Qui-Gon's breath quickened at the increase of exposed flesh. When Obi-Wan got to his leggings, he left them on, merely removing his hardened cock from its confines. Then he stood, clad only in leggings and brown, knee-high boots, his bobbing erection touching Qui-Gon's upturned face.
"Do you want something?"
"Y...yes, Master. Please"
"I like the way you beg, but you may only do so when I allow you. You may lick me. Slowly."
Qui-Gon complied, closing his eyes and extending his tongue. It was awkward without the use of his hands. He began at the base of Obi-Wan's upward jutting cock and licked forward, only to have the firm penis roll off his tongue. He kept at it, licking thoroughly and
lapping at the fluid gathered on the reddened tip.
"Suck me."
Qui-Gon looked up into Obi-Wan's flushed but composed face and felt his own cock throb at the words.
"Yes, Master," he managed to say brokenly, and bent his head to the task.
As his mouth moved over Obi-Wan's flesh, he felt hands wrap in his hair and pull his head forward sharply. His eyes teared as he tried to adjust and not gag on the hot, silky intrusion. He closed them and stopped moving on his own, letting Obi-Wan control the pace and the depth, completely giving himself over and letting the strong musk fill his senses.
"Yes, your mouth is so good and hot. You do that so well. I really should reward you." Suddenly Obi-Wan thrust in all the way, burying his cock down Qui-Gon's throat. Qui-Gon struggled not to move.
"You want me to come this way, don't you? I don't think I will, though. You won't get away that easily. I have much, much more in store for you."
With those words, Obi-Wan slowly pulled his cock from Qui-Gon's mouth and pushed the kneeling man back. Qui-Gon didn't struggle, and when he could no longer keep his balance on his knees, he tumbled onto his back, awkwardly, his hands still bound behind his back
and his flexed knees splayed. He'd never felt so humiliated and vulnerable. Or so aroused.
Obi-Wan stepped over and past him, and Qui-Gon eyes dared to follow as he moved to retrieve Qui-Gon's own leather belt. Time slowed for Qui-Gon as Obi-Wan nonchalantly removed various attachments and clips until he was holding only a long, smooth, black strap.
Stepping back to where Qui-Gon lay he held the metal buckle in his hand and let the leather end dangle, teasing and stroking the creases in Qui-Gon's legs where they met his groin, and the soft area behind his balls. Qui-Gon let his head fall back. His breath came quicker and shallower, and his cock twitched.
"Get up."
Qui-Gon awkwardly climbed to his feet, and was pushed face down on the bed. Obi-Wan untied Qui-Gon's hands and quickly moved to cross them in front and retie them tightly to the bedpost, exposing his entire back. Obi-Wan moved to the end of the bed, leaned over his Master and grabbed his leggings, ripping them down and off. He gripped Qui-Gon's ankles and jerked hard, pulling his arms straight and stretching them painfully. Walking back to the top of the bed, Obi-Wan accessed him with a predator's gaze. He then covered Qui-Gon's eyes, using his own sash as a blindfold.
Qui-Gon thought that Obi-Wan then left the room for a brief time, and tried to control his own breathing so that he could listen. His head rested uncomfortably on his upper arms, the joints of which were beginning to burn from being stretched. Reaching out with his senses, he knew that Obi-Wan was standing by the bed again.
Qui-Gon waited what seemed a dark eternity until he heard a zinging sound, and a loud 'whack.' A second later Qui-Gon gasped out loud as he felt heat, then pain from the strike to his upper back.
Obi-Wan moved to his side, fingers softly examining the rising welt.
"If you cry out again, I'll stop."
It was both a warning and an empowerment. Qui-Gon flexed his arms, to try and pull his head and upper body up, only to feel hands roughly push him back down.
Obi-Wan lazily dangled the tip of the belt over Qui-Gon's shoulders, his back, and down his ass cleft. There was a pause and then two more blows were meted out in quick succession, one on either side of the original. Qui-Gon clamped his mouth shut, even as he ground his raging erection into the soft bed cover. He needed this so badly. More blows then, on the middle of his back this time, and tears leaked out from his tightly shut eyes and soaked his blindfold. He breathed through his nose, drawing in quick, needy breaths, but didn't make a sound.
Fingers trailed a lazy pattern over his buttocks, followed by quick, light blows to each one. Qui-Gon bit his tongue to keep from crying out in surprise.
"I think I've been too easy on you. I think you are enjoying this too much. I'm going to whip your ass until it is red, Qui-Gon."
"Yes, Master. Oh, please, Master"
Obi-Wan's body suddenly descended on his stinging back, his full weight pushing Qui-Gon down into the bed. His padawan's voice hissed into his ear. "Did I give you permission to beg?"
"No, Master." Sweat from Obi-Wan's naked torso stung the welts there and turned Qui-Gon's back into an agony of pain.
Obi-Wan's sweat, Qui-Gon suddenly realized. Obi-Wan was sweating, even though his voice was even and steady. The mental image of Obi-Wan standing beside the bed, booted legs slightly splayed for balance, erect cock jutting from unfastened leggings, skin shining from his sweet sweat as he beat him... Qui-Gon groaned from the thought more than the sting on his back.
Suddenly the weight was gone and more blows were raining down upon his ass. First one cheek, then the other and finally at the top of his cleft. Qui-Gon did shout out then, and the beating stopped immediately.
///No, no, I didn't mean to make a sound/// he mentally pleaded, but dared not say anything aloud. He felt the bed dip as Obi-Wan settled beside him.
Obi-Wan began to lathe each rising welt with his tongue. Qui-Gon gasped aloud but managed to keep himself from moaning in pleasure. In turn, each place where he'd received a blow was kissed and licked, until Qui-Gon could barely control his own squirming body. Finally, there was only the blow to his cleft left. His legs were abruptly spread, and Obi-Wan
moved to kneel between them. Rough hands squeezed both asscheeks, and then slowly parted them. Hot breath followed by a cool tongue teased the wound there, and moved lower, lightly licking his opening.
"Oh, yes. Yes, please....Master!"
Qui-Gon realized his error too late, and cried out as the tongue was withdrawn. He felt pressure and pain as Obi-Wan again draped his body over him, and then that hot breath hissed once more in his ear.
"It seems I'll have to take stronger measures. On your knees."
As he flexed his arms to comply, Obi-Wan hands roughly held them in place. "Leave them!" he hissed.
Qui-Gon did as he was told, turning his head sideways, his shoulders taking most of his weight as he bent his knees, ass raised high. Obi-Wan spread his knees apart, further and further until Qui-Gon could feel the burning of stretched groin muscles. At last Obi-Wan seemed satisfied.
There was no sound in the room as Qui-Gon waited, blinded and exposed, for Obi-Wan's next move. Obi-Wan then stroked his face and lips softly, so softly, with two fingers.
"Lick them, unless you want me to shove them into you dry."
Qui-Gon opened his mouth and sucked the fingers in greedily, using his tongue to swirl over the tips. Abruptly they were pulled back. Spread as wide as his knees were, his hole was exposed and suddenly, without preamble, his opening was breached. Obi-Wan didn't stop until both fingers were buried to the hilt. Qui-Gon hissed, but didn't cry out. Obi-Wan
stopped then, and Qui-Gon felt his sphincter muscles spasm, trying to accommodate the digits.
Obi-Wan spoke in a voice no longer harsh, but sultry. "Open up to me, Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan's other hand reached around his hips and fingers oh-so-softly began to trace the great vein of Qui-Gon's cock.
After a moment, the spasms ceased, and Obi-Wan began to scissor his fingers, curving them inside until they stroked that special, hidden place.
"Can you take more, Qui-Gon? Can you take me? I'm going to pound into you -- I'm going to fuck you hard."
"Yes, yes, oh, please, yes..," Qui-Gon groaned, Obi-Wan's earlier admonishments forgotten in his need. "Please, oh, please."
Obi-Wan removed his fingers and Qui-Gon felt a hot, oil-slicked cock push up to his hole. The hand teasing his erection pulled away, and then both of Obi-Wan's hands gripped his hips, pulling them back, pushing Obi-Wan's member past the still-tight ring of muscles.
Oh, it hurt.
Even with the oil, even with the preparation, it hurt so badly, and this was the ultimate pain, the culmination of all of Obi-Wan's ministrations. Qui-Gon's back shook as he struggled to stay still and not pull away from that impossible intrusion. He gasped and cried now, earlier promises of silence forgotten. He tasted the salt of his own tears as
they bled past the sash and down onto his lips and still he wanted -- he *needed* -- more.
"Please, Master...PLEASE!"
Obi-Wan buried himself completely in one sure stroke, and Qui-Gon raised his shoulders up with his bound hands, then, shouting. Obi-Wan pulled out and pushed in savagely between the wide-spread knees again and again, wrapping one forearm around Qui-Gon's waist to keep his hips prone. The other hand pumped Qui-Gon's cock, gripping it hard, cruelly, fingernails scraping along the velvet surface.
"Come for me, Qui-Gon!" Obi-Wan commanded, "Come for me now!"
With an animalistic growl, Qui-Gon came, his semen spurting onto the bed cover. Obi-Wan's grip on his waist tightened and three punishing thrusts later he came with a shout, his head collapsing on Qui-Gon's bowed back.
