Disclaimer: I wish I owned them, I make no money, please don't
sue me, just having some fun. Special note: No Jedi were
actually harmed during the writing of this fic.
Summary: Qui-Gon teaches Obi-Wan some "very" creative ways to
use the Force.
Feedback: Yes please to almkkr@magma.ca
Note: Why is the Master being so "masterful"? Read
Communiqué and Communiqué II to find out.
Barbana... thank you for your help and enthusiasm. May many
Blairskin rugs come your way!
Tel.e.ki.ne.sis n. [ModL. (tele-, TELE- + Gr. Kinesis, motion )
kinein, to move] the apparent initiation of movement of an
object, as by a medium in spiritualism, without perceptible
mechanical or other means.
Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed in disappointment as he walked down the
transport's ramp. He glanced upwards and noticed the sun high
in Coruscant's sky. There would be no slipping quietly into
Qui-Gon's bed to kiss him awake, nor would he be pushed up
against the wall of his Master's bedchamber and summarily
ravished. No, his transport was late and he knew he would have
nothing to go home to but their empty living quarters. The
workday had long since begun and his Master would be off in a
council meeting or something along those lines. Obi-Wan would
have to wait until mid meal to see the object of his desire.
He quickly stowed his gear and padded off to the fresher to
grab a quick shower. Since he had found no specific orders from
his Master awaiting him, he decided that some meditation would
be in order. Yes, meditation would be very good; it would help
him channel his pent-up energy and kill some time before
reuniting with Qui-Gon. As most resident Jedi were already hard
at work, he knew the Temple gardens would be relatively quiet
at this time of day. It would be pleasant to be outside after
two long weeks stuck inside a transport, to breathe fresh air
that hadn't been through a ship's re-circulator.
Upon arriving at the gardens, he selected a quiet spot under a
large tree and sunk to his knees. He closed his eyes and began
to meditate; sighing as the Force surrounded him, enveloped him
as it always did at these times. He released his tensions and
floated in the quiet peace.
Obi-Wan was not sure how long he had been deep in meditation
when he heard his Master's voice over their training bond. Joy
filled him as he felt the comforting presence of his Master
flood into his being.
//Obi-Wan?//
//Yes Master.//
//Obi-Wan I sensed your arrival. I'm sorry I wasn't able to
welcome you in person. I'm in a council meeting but it will be
over soon enough. Shall I meet you for mid meal?//
//Of course Master. I've missed you so much. These last two
weeks have felt like an eternity to me.//
Obi-Wan could feel his Master's chuckle ripple through his
mind. It was like water to his parched soul. The sudden need to
be with his Master was almost a physical ache. All the previous
teasing over com channels and holo projectors had only served
to intensify Obi-Wan's desire to touch and taste, to actually
be with his Master.
//It seems like we have had this conversation before Padawan.
Ahhh, but that conversation had some unexpected results didn't
it?//
//Gods, I can't wait to see you Master, to feel you, to touch
you, to smell and taste you.//
//Well Padawan, I'm afraid I'm stuck here for a few hours. But
perhaps I could offer you an alternative?//
With that Obi-Wan suddenly felt the sensation of hands trailing
down his torso. The sensation stopped at his waist and he felt
tugging at the fastenings of his leggings. He let out a choked
gasp. Qui-Gon and he had played games using modified force
pushes in the bedroom but his Master had never done anything
like this before, especially in public.
//Qui-Gon! What do you think you are doing?//
//Doing Obi-Wan? I don't know what you mean.//
Obi-Wan could hear the growing amusement in his Master's mental
voice. He realized that this must be his Master's strange
notion of retribution for their last conversation. He should
have realized that Qui-Gon wouldn't allow his Padawan to have
the last word in what had become a bizarre battle for sexual
superiority between them.
//Master! Oh no you don't. No! Qui-Gon... stop. Stop this right
now! I am in the Temple Gardens for Sith's sake. I can see
Master Windu. There's a whole group of initiates within
spitting distance! You are not going to do this. Its one thing
when I'm in locked quarters, but this is an entirely different
thing. Don't do this to me here... Master? Master... answer
me.// Shocked, Obi-Wan found he couldn't move his hands they
were frozen in place. Silently he pleaded. //Master, no...
please, not here, anywhere but here.//
//Begging doesn't become you Padawan, unless you are begging
for... hmmm, let's see...//
With only a split second to react, Obi-Wan hastily threw up his
shields as his mind and body was flooded with a stream of
erotic images. His treacherous body responded immediately,
hardening and lengthening. He felt the telltale liquid heat of
desire infuse his body. He silently thanked the Force that his
robe hid the havoc being played within. He kept his head down
and closed his eyes, hoping that his shields were preventing
his distress from leaking into the Force, alerting those around
him to his acute embarrassment. //Qui-Gon, please...// He
choked over their bond.
He felt the force surround his hard shaft like a hot, smooth
fist, so like his Master's fist. It began to stroke him slowly.
He shuddered and then quickly glanced around to see if his
lapse had been noticed. Obi-Wan knew then that his Master would
not afford him any mercy. He would have to make the best of a
potentially embarrassing situation. His best tact was not to
react, keep his head down and just ride out his Master's latest
version of erotic torture.
//Padawan, just imagine that my hands are on your body, that I
am doing this thing to you. Do you feel me touch you? Ah, you
are so hot and hard in my hand. Do you feel me?//
Qui-Gon had manipulated the Force energies so that it felt as
if his Master was pressed all over his body. He felt the
whispering touches everywhere even as the grip on his erection
continued to pump him. He felt licks on his neck, soft breath
in his ear, tender kisses at the nape of his neck. He couldn't
believe it, but it even seemed that he could feel the brush of
his Master's beard.
Abruptly, it was over as quickly as it began. Obi-Wan shuddered
simultaneously in both relief and disappointment. Just then,
before he could even register a coherent thought, Obi-Wan felt
his hard length enveloped in what felt like the velvety heat of
his Master's mouth. His body jerked in response. Obi-Wan's hips
hitched to plunge himself deeper into the phantom mouth before
he could control the reflex reaction. Oh sweet maker of all
things, it was so hot and wet and good, it was so very good and
he was losing himself in it. He was falling rapidly under his
Master's spell. He sucked in a deep breath and sent a silent
plea into the Force to give him the strength to endure.
//That's it Padawan, let yourself go. Feel me suck you, taste
you. Ah, Obi-Wan I love your taste and soon I will taste you. I
am going to take you in my mouth and you will give yourself to
me completely.//
Obi-Wan moaned softly as his length was taken even more deeply
into his Master's phantom mouth. He felt the searing wet heat,
the delicious pressure. He felt the sensation of a tongue lap
along his length, teasing him, torturing him. He knew he had
begun to shake. Sweat formed on his brow and threatened to run
down his face. Still the mouth continued to mercilessly move on
him, dragging up and down, over and over, eroding his
hard-fought control. Obi-Wan knew he couldn't take much more
before he'd lose it completely. He groaned hard and opened his
eyes only to see to Mace Windu walking purposely towards his
kneeling form.
"Obi-Wan, my boy, are you all right? Hell, man you look awful.
You're very pale and you're sweating. Are you ill? Have you
seen the healers? Does your Master know?"
Mace's concern would have been comical in any other
circumstance, but at that moment Obi-Wan was frankly horrified.
He shook with the effort of maintaining a facade of calm. The
only answer he could give to Mace's questions was to stare into
the older man's eyes and try not to audibly gasp for breath.
Obi-Wan was doing everything in his power to create the
illusion that he was quietly meditating in the Temple Gardens,
not suffering some erotic Force attack by his Master.
"I'm fine... Master Windu... really... just fine," he croaked.
Okay, he totally failed in the verbal department. He'd just nod
or shake his head or maybe just blink his eyes, one blink, yes
-- two blinks, no. Gods, how was he going to get out of this?
He wondered.
"Sweet mother of Sith, boy, you sound horrible. Come let me
help you, I'll take you to the healers, or maybe find your
Master."
Sweet gods I am doomed, thought Obi-Wan.
//Master, if you have any love for me... any love at all you'll
release me. Mace is here, he thinks I'm suffering from some
sickness. He's asking too many questions, ahhh... I can't
control this much longer... come on, stop. Please?//
Obi-Wan's answer came in the form of increased pressure on his
aching erection. The hot fist of force energy pulled at him and
degraded his control another notch. Obi-Wan sobbed his
distress, so much for non-verbal! Mace leaned down and looked
deeply into Obi-Wan's half closed eyes, deciding that this
Padawan must be suffering from some horrible medical condition.
He tried to soothe the young man by putting his hands on
Obi-Wan's shoulders.
//Master...// Obi-Wan choked into their bond.
Just as Mace's hand contacted his shoulders, Obi-One felt what
could only be described as a hot dry finger push its way into
his anus. A shock of unexpected pleasure shot through his body
-- violent and instantaneous. He jerked up and arched
backwards, thrusting his throbbing erection into the invisible
mouth. He knew the ragged cry he heard was his own. Orgasm
swept over him like a tidal wave and he ejaculated hard into
the deep folds of his robe, coming over and over, wetting
himself with hot semen. His Master took that moment to release
the Force hold on his arms and legs. Shaking and gasping for
breath he fell forwards into the waiting arms of Mace Windu.
When Obi-Wan could once again think rationally he realized that
he was slumped into a Council member, who was by this time
absolutely frantic.
"Gods, you've had a convulsion, we must get the healers. Don't
worry Obi-Wan, we'll take care of you. Where's your Master,
I'll get him." Mace immediately began yelling for assistance
and Obi-Wan blushed scarlet and felt almost sick in
mortification.
"I'm fine... I'm fine Master Windu." He choked as he struggled
to his feet, making damn sure his robe covered the soggy
evidence. He had to get out of the garden. He had to get away
from Mace. He could feel his Master's amusement over their
bond. Oh, Sith, he was going to kill Qui-Gon when he got his
hands on him.
"Really, I'm fine, just fine Master Windu. Believe me... I'm
okay."
Mace watched as the young man stumbled to his feet. Obi-Wan
shook himself and struggled for a semblance of dignity,
adjusted his robe and stalked off. Mace could hear the young
man muttering to himself. All he could make out was something
about "this meaning war" and "revenge being served cold."
Obi-Wan was obviously very ill and delirious; he wasn't making
any sense. Mace shook his head, no, obviously the boy was not
well. He turned and headed towards the council chambers. He
needed to have a long talk to Qui-Gon about the health of his
Padawan.
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