Archive: M_A, My page (http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/nsks)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: A/O with hints of Q/O
Categories: POV, Angst, B/D
Spoilers: You have seen TPM, right?
Series: Night's Secret, Knight's Shame #9
Warnings:
1. This story contains A/O. If you don't like Anakin/Obi-Wan
slash, your delete button is there for a reason.
2. This story contains non-con elements.
3. This story follows canon. You know that thing that didn't
happen? Well, it happened.
4. Been told I should warn this one has even more squickiness
in it. Blood, lots of it. Consider yourself warned.
Summery: Anakin stakes a claim.
Disclaimer: Pop Quiz: Who owns Star Wars? (hint: not me) A:
George Lucas. And do you really think I could make any money
off of this?
Feedback: Someone's still with me? By all means let me know.
Any and all forms of feedback are appreciated greatly.
Thanks to my wonderful betas, Boots and Master Falcona.
Summery of Series Thus Far: Takes place approximately 15 years
after TPM. Anakin rapes Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan doesn't tell anyone
because he believes he has to try to save Anakin. Anakin
kidnaps Obi.
Notes: Sorry I left everyone hanging so long on the last one.
Was out of the country for a month, then had writers block.
You've pretty much got Boots to thank for this one, it might
never have been with out her proding. Also thank-you to all the
people who have ever given me feedback, especilly the ones that
wrote me in this past month, they all helped me get started
again.
Three new things with this story. One is it now has it's own
page: www.angelfire.com/scifi/nsks. It can also be found at
Padders messy playground: www.angelfire.com/ma3/padders. Two
make sure to glance at the warnings, there's a new one this
time. [g] And three, NSKS now has illstrations! Thank-you
Boots! Go to my web page to veiw. Don't missed the 'Morning
After' one. Anyway, on with the story...
What happens next? His words echo through my mind, bringing
many differing scenarios to light. I am surprised to discover
that some of them I don't wish to happen, not to my Obi-Wan.
"Well, I suppose that depends on your answer to my next
question."
Silence answers me.
"Will you infiltrate the Jedi for us?"
"No."
How did I know he was going to say that? I tug him back
against me, and whisper in his ear, "But you don't even know
what we want you to do."
"The answer is still no. I will never do anything willingly
for you, Anakin." He speaks calmly. Too calmly. I am not to
certain what has happened, but I feel as though he has made
some profound shift in his mind. I can't quite figure it out...
but maybe I don't need to.
"But Obi-Wan, the Jedi will be destroyed, with or without your
help. Why not just help us and save yourself a great deal of
pain?"
"Why do you need me? Why not just kill me and destroy the Jedi
without me?" His voice is still calm, but there is no mistaking
the hope behind his words. He wants to die.
"Oh no my Jedi." I prop myself up on one arm and look down at
him, running my fingers over his face. "No matter what happens,
you will not die. If you refuse to help us in our work, then at
least you can help me in my play." I slide my fingers around
the back of his neck and lean over to kiss him. His lips are
pressed together firmly and I take great delight in slowly
forcing my way into his mouth.
Then he bites me.
I pull back quickly, tasting my own blood in my mouth. I look
down and there is no mistaking the smug look on his face. I
wipe the blood on the sheet and quickly Force-heal the wound.
"So, you want to play rough, do you?"
His eyes continue to focus on some point in space, not
reacting to my words at all. I grab his face, forcing him to
look at me. Still his eyes do not meet mine. I shake him
slightly. "You are mine. Mine. You belong to me."
He shakes his head with a small smile. "No, Anakin. You
control my body, nothing more."
I narrow my gaze, how dare he. "I. Own. You." I hiss. Oh, how
I long to wipe that look off his face.
"Never."
I pull back and slap him, watching in amusement as his hands
involuntarily jerk, trying to protect his face. "Maybe all I
own is your body," I concede, "But I intend to own it fully."
Not a trace of fear in his eyes. Not yet.
With a flicker of the Force I untie his hands. The moment he
is free he grabs for me. With only a small amount of hassle I
succeed in pinning him, sitting on his waist holding his hands
above his head.
I bend down and kiss him fully, this time using the smallest
application of the Force to keep him from biting me. I run my
tongue over every inch of his mouth, claiming it, making it
mine. I can feel him struggle beneath me and the desire to own
him washes over me again.
I fight him, wrestling his wrists into the constraints already
attached to the bed. It would be so easy to overpower him,
Forceless as he is. But physically over powering my master, my
former master, is so much more gratifying.
With my own hands now free I pull at his shirt, dragging it up
until I can see his nipples. I lean down and bite one, hard. He
makes a small sound and jerks away, but I don't let go. Slowly
I bite down until there is blood on my lips. I then bring my
face up to his and kiss him again, sharing with him the taste
of his own blood.
Moving lower again I yank at his pants, smiling as they tear
away. I wedge a knee between his thighs, wrenching them apart
as his tries in vain to protect himself. Another knee and then
I am kneeling between his legs, holding them apart as I
contemplate the body in front of me. Mine. The word resounds in
my head. Mine. This is mine.
Both my hands are busy holding his legs, so I slide into him
with no preparation. He is incredibly tight and I can feel him
tear as I push all the way in. In and out. Claiming.
By the time I come he has ceases struggling. Too painful I
suppose. When I withdraw I can feel him relax, no doubt
thinking that this is over for now. But it is not.
I slide off the bed and head into the enjoining room. There in
the desk on the left is what I need. Grabbing the case I walk
back into the other room and straddle Obi-Wan's waist.
Inside the box is my set of knives, given to me by my true
Master when I completed my studies in the ancient language of
the Sith. He told me that under normal circumstances he would
carve a symbol of Power into my shoulder then. But tradition
bowed to the necessity of my training remaining secret.
I pulled one out and drew the flat against the stomach in
front of me. Obi-Wan looked at me once, then lay his head back
and closed his eyes. Preparing a meditation to distance himself
from the pain most likely. I draw the cold blade up and along
his rib. This isn't about pain, as I'm sure he thinks it is.
This is about making him mine.
Slowly I turn the blade and press it into his skin. Drawing it
toward myself at a steady rate I watch his face. No reaction. I
press harder, mesmerized by the splitting skin and the thin
line of red that appears.
I lift the knife and move higher, now drawing deeper cuts
across his chest. I frown with concentration, pressing in deep
enough to leave a scar but no permanent damage. With one fluid
stroke after another I bring to life the characters I have
chosen for him. Symbols of Power, Beauty, and Entrapment.
Lower, across his waist I draw darkness in it's various forms.
Fear. Anger. Hatred. And lower still, along his right hip, my
own symbol, along with my True name: Vader.
As I am finishing the last few marks I can feel him starting
to fade from consciousnesses, and I am aware of the amount of
blood surrounding me. His blood. Stepping away from the bed I
wipe the sweat from my face, leaving behind streaks of red. I
move to the head of the bed and look down into his face.
He is tired, both from keeping the pain under control and from
the loss of blood. I contemplate continuing, pushing him until
he breaks. Something in me whispers not to. Something tells me
that if I do continue I may break him, but I will lose what I
seek. I run my fingers along his blood and sweat covered face.
Resting my hand at his temple I mentally nudge gently him into
a deep sleep. "Sleep well," I whisper, and turn to go, leaving
him alone and in the dark.
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