Master Apprentice Archive Myth Two: Paradise Quick search:

Series: a sequel to Playground
Archiving: M_A please
Pairing: Qui/Obi
Category: Angst, AU
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: oh yes! Very unhappy ending, please see part 0/1

Okay! Since this is 0/1 I might as well come out and admit it, it's good old CHARACTER DEATH again. And yeaps, if the last one with Obi rolling off the temple roof and stabbing himself with a lightsaber was bad, this is (hopefully :) worse. <hangs head in shame> Well! I can't help it! CD is an addiction I tell ya!

Spoilers: None
Summary: Obi-Wan makes one more mistake.
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns everything. No infringement intended, no
profit made, pure fiction. Lyrics from Gomez's song Rhythme and Blues Alibi
Feedback: Please, please, please! Contact my dear friend ;) obi_wan_kenobi69@hotmail.com
Dedicated to my beloved Master Alaric. With a grateful thanks to betas and feedbacks, especially Alyx Alexander and Alaric and love as always to my bondmate Smeg.

And remember: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH! and a plot that can only get worse LOL

At the end of Playground:

I take you to my sacrificial ground, the garden I had made; obediently you sat a few feet away. I ignite the Lightsaber and swirl it around, and do all the gorgeous moves and look into your eyes the while. The sky inky before dawn. How earnest you look, how solid and still you sat, even as the morning dew ate into your aching joints. I would die for you! I will not let Palpatine take me, I must warn you of his nature, I must tell you everything, I must change history. And to change history, you take out a
vital player in it. I look into your eyes and step back, stab the saber into my chest and roll off the temple roof.

Rhythm & Blues Alibi

You can write your tunes with rhythm and blues as your alibi
You can sell your soul and lay the blame all on the passers-by
You shake your body on the TV screen
It seems to me, you'd try anything twice
And swing it out and use it as your aphrodisiac
You can give it to me, to me
Plain to see that I'll give it you back
You let it flow, let it go, there's nothing to it
Anyone can try anything twice, try anything twice

The saber would not go through. When I pressed its bite harder into my chest the blade extinguished itself. I thumb the switch maniacally, this cannot fail and I will not let myself live. I fumbled with the buttons. It was set to stun. Of course! You always did take precautions with weaponry, Master. Ah well, I toss the treacherous lightsaber away and summersault into the
drop.

The city rushed upon me. All the levels the suns could not reach and where power generators failed. Here I hoped my body would lie in peace, brittle and *yours*. Until the bones turned to dust with age, still unfound and untouchable, a tender secret, beneath so many layers of concrete. I lost sight of you, Master, but I heard you in my mind through the training bond.
You have just recovered from shock and now you are.leaping. My eyes snapped open, mesmerized by the vista. You were descending upon me; streamlining your body to take advantage of the gravity.

I twisted, lining my head and neck for impact with the ground. But you were faster as you called upon malevolent forces to push you down. Then, you had me by a single boot and kept gaining. Up to my knees, my hips, my waist until finally your arms closed about my chest and our lips locked as you piston your tongue into my mouth at a frantic pace. Wind threatened to part
us, but who cares. We speared past the windows of the lower training rooms and I think I saw initiates mouth the words "flying Jedi" pointing excitedly, whilst their instructors rushed to call the healers.

So what that we are plummeting to our deaths, as your lips, oh force your lips are so sweet and soft, Master. You had your eyes scrunched shut, pushing forward with your head you melded into me. You tucked into a certain angle and I almost laughed, bare chest tickled by your roughened robes. You want to be on the bottom, Master? What would it matter, my flesh pounded into yours or vice versa? But you knew you've extinguished my hopes of going through with this. I would never let you die. I kissed you again and tell you so through the training bond. Your lips are next to mine ear, and you chose not to reveal yourself to my mind, instead you shouted in the gusting wind.

"You will marry him?"

My heart burst, black and bitter juices over-brimmed inside the cavity of my chest. I conceded defeat by nodding and you sealed my fate with a tentative touch on my cheek. We drew apart and centered ourselves in The Force, turning lead hearts into
light stuff. I snigger and send you a mental quip, asking if I should try to think happy thoughts about the glory of my dowry, which is the risk you took with your life in order to save me. By the time we drifted onto the temple roof, we were completely separated. You landed about 4 feet away from me and faltered onto your back in a pool of graying hair and woolen robes. Your profile looked like a king's atop monumental Nubian sarcophaguses.

You did not spare a glance for me, Master. Yet, in your silence, I had the pleasure of watching desperate relief swirl about you, like the lower level smog we had approached as we fell.  And your left hand was thrown to your side, stretching towards me; fingers slightly curved in so warm and needy a gesture that it aroused me. Without another thought I clambered on all fours
and lie down on top of you. Onto your thick chest and hefted your limp arms onto my back. Without any sense of shame, I thrust my erection into your hard stomach, nudging you to take notice. You only blink up at me, eyes ever so soft and tired.

"I love you Master, it's driving me mad," I wanted to nuzzle your chest, over the spot where your heart is to see if it there is still a beat in that stone organ.

I pushed through your robes with my nose, suppressing the urge to angrily tear it away with my teeth.

// Why won't you say something? // I send you my frustration and hurt and meet very heavy shields.

Your long thin lashes lowered, as you looked down at me, a curious statement in your eyes, what I would call romantic condescension. Surly Master, is pity all you can feel for me? I nearly choked on a bit of fabric but it was worth it as I found a nipple. Softly I touched my lips to it and was relived that you seemed unaware of the intrusion. Nervousness made me
lick my lips, coating them thickly with saliva. Then tentatively, as if of its own accord, my tongue snuck out of my mouth and posed pointedly over the pink spot. I trembled, watching it dart out and slurp over your nipple, grazing lazily. I closed my eyes at the first burst of your taste, the bitterness of burnt incense dust from last night, the cold sweat you broke into when I jumped and the heat of your skin cooking beneath my face, the rounded fragile nipple. That would not nourish, that is all decoration and
sensuality.

The sound of running feet and billowing robes as well as the blanket of soothing aura they insisted on projecting each time they neared the scene of an incident, like an emotional straitjacket, announced the arrival of the healers. And they pealed me off you, pulled my suckling mouth away. Someone was repeating next to my ear that you weren't conscious. Something about a concussion and psychic shock, depletion of strength and the consequent shut down of body and mind due to the effort of levitating two bodies for a long distance. None of it made sense to me however, as I focused on the luscious look of your nipple, wet and darkened with my drool, as they carted you off on a stretcher. In my head your voice was still with me, repeating that damned sentence like a force command "You will marry him." sealed with our first kiss.

Chasing after stories that have already been told
Could not look old Son House in the eyes
I know where you carry such a fragile load
But I've got yours, and you've got mine
It's a rhythm and blues alibi

Apparently, this fate bond was a big deal. Because the council went to great lengths to reenact ceremonies once observed in antiquity. Whilst I was kept in an empty, well-lit room, sedated. All the initiates who worshipped the Clear Force prepared. They sat through a fast, facing a blank wall, meditating on clarity. They examined one question "what is real and what is
not" chanting the line in ancient BASIC. Those of the initiates who worshipped the Blood Force gathered the dripping nectars of red flora and went to slaughterhouses to collect fresh sacrificial blood on the midnight before the day of the ceremony.

I was simply desperate to see you, Qui Gon. I did not have a single visitor in my room, rendering it a hygienic cell. Droids came to check on me, without voice chips so no matter how I re-wired them they could not tell me anything. The Force was my only comfort. And through it I called for you, I cursed you, I said tender things into the link at night and woke up crying into your mind. Yet always, on your end there was emptiness. I knew you were ignoring me. I knew.

Finally, I barrowed into the mind of a young padawan passing near my cell and found out that the Masters of the temple were bathing in the fresh spring, which sprang from the naval stone in the Top Garden, preparing for a collective mediation over what this fate bond would bring to the Order. I saw through his mind's eyes a scene of him attending you and the other Masters. There was an amour-tainted memory of you standing naked, face grim as the Padawan soaped your back. I grumbled deep in my throat at the discovery and tore the memory out to keep as my own. The Padawan collapsed with a whining cry and was taken into the other wards.

* * * * *

The day dawned at four o'clock in the morning when Winter Coruscant was gray and ashen. Against the overcast backdrop the colors of the procession was intense. A group of Jedi children dressed in worn brown tunics. Their long hair, untouched by the padawan cut, blown into their faces as they danced with blazing torches. Directing the force to spill the fire into the atmosphere, roaring to a height several feet above their heads. Behind them, padawans performed the Runner's Katas empty handed. Then the Masters followed, in silk black robes that hid everything and made them look like goblins, as they approached the ivory Council ship The Stigmua pre-programmed for Hoth.

We moved on. In a seething mass towards the hanger bay. No one outside the Jedi was there to observe the cacophony. Not even the politicians who are so close to the Jedi nowadays, I noted to myself. But of course, with one exception. Senator Palpatine stood at the door of The Stigmua, in a dark blue coat, black leggings, bejeweled slippers and a burgundy vest. His
silver hair combed back, an oily smile on his face and his eyes utterly black, as his pupils diluted with desire when his gaze burned over me.

Our procession reached the ship and with the halting of the march, silence took over. My bearers set me down at the foot of the ship's silver ramp. Scattered with the head of white flowers, yet still it looked like a post-mortem table to me.

The Masters formed the position of the Northern Sector about me, and I twisted my head to search for you. There you were, Qui Gon, in the standing of Qupid. And the other Masters pointed their lightsabers at you. You bowed deeply to them all, no sign of fear in your serenity. Then you turn the bow into a duck, a point of pivot and a challenge. I don't see you fly enough
Qui Gon. The Masters fight you, singularly or in groups, Master Yoda work you until your movements looked clumsy and full of faults, Master Windu fought you until you were both drenched in sweat and Poof twisted his head to keep you off his back. Yet you were persistent in your enactment, you made me half hope you were kidnapping me, Qui Gon. But of course an hour of duels later everyone returned to the beginning of the formation and it was done. You've renounced your Master's hold over me in a symbolic defeat and then you walked towards me.

I do not know where I found the strength, but I rolled off the cushion and slammed into the ground before you. With a face full of dirt I looked up at you, at your large hand trembling as it reached for my braid. I will not lie to you Master, I think the urge to revenge upon you was spawned in my heart then. Strategies flittered through my head. Perhaps I could grab a saber and get a good poke at you before I am seized. Perhaps I should wait till Palpatine nears me and I could assassinate him. Perhaps, I should try the lightsaber again on myself. You grasp my braid and my mouth open but I could not find the words. What am I supposed to say? "Master, you bastard! How dare you not love me! How dare you not renounce your Jedi for me! How could you marry me off? How do you think your Senator will do me?"

But no, you did not take my braid. And even as the council shifted about in mute anxiety, you smiled and said in a small voice "Obi-Wan you don't look very well. "

My eyes widen with shock, what is this? What are you saying? What are you hinting at? This fate bond, is it my trial? Well that's just plain madness, I want the standard four-hour sitting of a written essay on the meaning of the Force. Not this go insane being separated from your Master trial. And no, definitely not the get fucked by Palpatine question.

My mind in a delirium, I was in no shape to listen to your profound mutterings as you carried me abroad. Into the center of the ship, there were two tanks installed there, one was modified to hold bacta, the other a luxurious stasis tank. You stow me into the empty bacta tank and as you put the mask over my mouth you shake me a little.

"Remember Obi-Wan, your focus determines your reality," you clamp the sleeping gas over my nostrils and my focus became decidedly wonky.

La la la la la la la la la la laaa..
You can take a trip through your juke joint smoke-filled paradise
You can give it your all, 'cause you are walking a fine, fine line, la
You shake your booty on the TV screen
Seems to me, you'd try anything twice
You'd try anything twice
Well let me hear you now..

FIRST DAY ON HOTH - Morning

I woke up cleaned and seated at a breakfast table, at the rear of a strange villa. In what would be called a sunroom. The sun shone brightly on the everlasting expanse of snow. I can see soft hills drift into the far distance. The couch was covered by soft furry skins, a vase of colorful hothouse flowers stood red and scarlet at the center of the glass table. A droid came up and served me warm eggs. I looked around the peaceful surroundings and could procrastinate no longer.

"I want my old clothes, not these," I gestured to the white silk robe with rims of fur that engulfed me. "And where is your master?"

"Yes Lord," the droid answered quietly. "And our Master is away. He will return tonight."

*Our* Master, I simmer with anger as I waited. The droid came back in a few moments later with a small handful of my belongings. I took over the box and emptied the contents onto the carpets. Hastily I pulled on the pair of thick leggings and shrugged off the expensive robe I had on. The villa was far too luxuriously warm for my taste. Only two more things remained on the floor then, a lightsaber and a very dirty robe. I look at the robe. Then pure joy coursed through my body. It was your robe. I touched it, and let the force guide my mind; slowly a vision bloomed before my eyes. The stasis booth empty, you had stayed with me till the end of my journey. Pulling me out of the bacta tank, entrusting me to the droid and right before you left, you took one last look at me. Sighed and peeled off your robe, tucking me inside it and standing stock still at the door of The Stigmua, as the hatch closed. I hug the robe to me, and something fell out of a sleeve pocket, a tiny data chip, with fine ink on its label. QGJ Private.

FIRST DAY ON HOTH - Noon

There was a library on the second level. I chanced upon it whilst frantically searching for a data-pad. There were none to be found; instead, I had stumbled into the Master bedroom. Wooden furniture here, a large mirror hung over the bed, my lips meshed together with distaste. Pleasure. Pleasure without you would be pain. I skirted the downy blue bed and its
gorgeous hard wood posts, cursing that I would never get pleasure from Palpatine.

The wall I leaned on shifted and I found myself in a damask room. filled with books. With wonder, I traced my fingertips over their golden spines, pondered over the model of the inner-rim on the desk. There, I found pens, paper and ink. Nothing that was not archaic and charming, useless. There were several things on the shelves that I had heard you talk about as your
favorite readings. I pulled them out and gathered them in my lap but found I could not bare to turn a single page. Finally I thumbed the droid caller and asked for tea.

TC-14 was apparently the only droid in the whole damned place and hence my only conversation companion. I asked it to sit down and began to drink the tea it prepared.

"So, TC-14," I gazed over the droid from behind my fine china cup. "How long have you been in the service of.our.master?"

The droid spilled a number. I noted nonchalantly that it was the same time I became your Padawan. That is how I measure time in my life always. Before You and After You. I would not like it to become Before Palpatine or After Palpatine.

"That is a long time TC-14," I kept using its full serial number, to humiliate it, I think.

"Yes Lord," it addressed me formally and even its metallic voice sounded amusingly uneasy. "I have looked after this estate for the Master ever since. However, I have not met a human being before you, lord. I am so glad you came, for I was very lonely. I mean I liked taking care of the large compound and growing plants in the warm house. But I was built for servicing humans, I have the most complex conversation making cards."

I smiled at the babbling droid and it went instantly quiet.

"What's wrong?" I frowned at it.

"Your facial statement, Lord," it's voice chip had a high percentage of stasis in it, indicating the effort it took the droid to calculate what was unnerving it. "It.does not compute. My binary emotion chips are telling me that it is a smile, indicating you're happy, without a care, yet.dangerous."

"Oh?" I raise my eyebrows.

"No, wait a second please lord," the droid crooked its head one more moment and suddenly its eyes blinked and clumsily the droid tried to stand up.

"Sit!" I say out loud, a service droid had to obey any human voice unless preprogrammed otherwise. Palpatine obviously wanted me to use this one for chores and the like, so it obeyed implicitly, despite all its brain circuits' unwillingness. The droid looked at me terrified.

"You're not well Lord," it squealed. "Not at all! You need immediate medical attention, please let me fetch you some sedatives."

"Drink. TC-14" I grinned at it coldly and ordered.

".Oh lord." the droid pleaded with his eyes bright like headlights, as its hand picked up the cup before it, a cup of black tea with milk and sugar which it was programmed to prepare in a mechanical imitation of keeping me company in the tea drinking ritual. The droid screamed when the tea flooded its head and it was terminated.

With a triumphant giggle, I leapt upon the wreck and pulled off its head with a butter-knife as a screwdriver, before the water could seep down and destroy the parts I wanted. I had to cut through the breastplate with my 'saber, sure, I could have just incapacitated TC-14 with the saber before, or simply asked nicely. But I did not feel generous, and it was rather delightful, watching it shut up slowly. Why should death come easily, like a discreet thief, it would not for me.

FIRST DAY ON HOTH - Afternoon

I gutted the droid of its wires and motors, fidgeting with the devices to make a basic data-pad. All the bits and parts on my lap and spilling off the couch, the sacked body of TC-14 at my feet. Then I discovered the environment system for the villa was monitored by the droids' central processing unit. So an hour after the settings were not updated the charming domestic paradise rotted in the cold. The lights went off, and could not be switched back on. The heating died and the coldness of Hoth began to swallow up the entire building. The flowers in the hothouse turned into a blackened heap. I know this because through the master bedroom, there was a window that looked in through its transparent roof. And whilst I was there, I cut down a post from the bed, watched the mirror crush down and shatter over Palpatine's bedcovers, imagining with glee the image of his body rolling and writhing on the shrapnel.

I sliced off a bit of the bedpost and tossed it into the fireplace in the kitchen. The treated wood gave black smoke and stained the originally decorative chimney. My face glowed warm before the fire and I snuggled down in your robe to read your diary. TC-14's voice annunciated your words in a monotone because I could not make a visual projector. It was the last entry.

"Flight date 7th:

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Obi-Wan Kenobi."

I sneered at the entry. What was that supposed to tell me? I rewind it a bit more, to the day after my first suicide attempt.

"Day 14th, Summer Cycle Coruscant:

Obi-Wan tried to kill himself today."

I chuckled maniacally. Direct.

".I stopped him."

Yes you did Master, I coo at TC-14's head, gathering it underneath my arms, I rest one ear over the droids' mouth, turned the volume low and cuddled myself.

".I'm not sure if everything is going according to plan. I am not sure any longer if I am doing the right thing. But I want it so badly!"

The great, serene, *heartless* Qui Gon Jinn wants something? I rolled my eyes. What did the Sith promise you Master that has made you sell me like this?

"Obi-Wan is not all right. Something is very wrong with him, as we had all feared. But he was such a perfect, controlled.loving Padawan. Maybe the fate bond wasn't meant to happen. Maybe the idea of marrying a man twice his age is as despicably distasteful to him as I had warned Yoda. Maybe the Sith has gotten to my Padawan.

I want to tell him. Damnit! Windu is calling.

End."

Each entry was as baffling as the one after it. I tried to work my brain around what you were expressing, but nothing made sense. I was frightened. Because the short day cycle has ended and now ghostly winds of white snow danced past the small kitchen windows. Darkness enveloped the dead villa and TC-14's voice was growing faint as the power cell ran out. I regretted
killing the droid. Now I am all alone and waiting for Palpatine. As bleak silence encroached, I let out a banked up scream and began running around the rooms.locked, everything was locked, unbreakable, all the glasses were walls. I sliced open one external wall with my saber and rain and hail breeched in through the gap. Slowly I back away from that contact I made
with the insurmountable landscape.

FIRST DAY ON HOTH - Night

Stairs. I bounded up the stairs, putting as much distance between myself and that icy hand of Hoth's black night. A small weather watchtower was atop the villa. A very small and dirty bed was stuck inside the tiny place. I crawled under the sheets and guarded my heart with my saber, lying still and struck with terror, I waited.

I re-opened my eyes in what seemed like a moment later, but I wasn't sure if I had not gone catatonic for a while there. It was getting intolerably cold and I knew from the heaviness of my limbs I was powerless to fight it. The Hoth storm had probably taken out the wall of the lowest level, where I breeched the delicately balanced protective structure of the building. I thought I heard the sound of furniture tossed by the storm, but it probably was my imagination. Because I didn't hear the engine of Palpatine's ship when it landed.

Chasing after stories that have already been told
Could not look old Son House in the eyes
I know where you carry such a fragile load
And I've got yours, you've got mine
It's a rhythm and blues alibi
La la la la la (to end)

He came to my door, I blinked at how tall he looked, clad in fur from head to toe. A portable heater glowed orange in his hand; he placed that at the foot of the bed. Then slid from its illumination and moved towards me. Paralyzed by an agony of frozen limbs, I could see nothing but the whites of his eyes. And in that split second of contact, a spearing light shot through
us. It was the bond, it was forming!

Gloved hands touched my cheeks and the skin there was instantly aflame. He growled quietly and the sound elicited an unconscious moan from me. I wanted to cry but my lips quaked into a wanton smile under his massaging fingertips. Blindly, I fumbled to grip the cumbersome body sitting on my stomach. He felt like a bear, of similar proportion, strength and brutal
force. He bent his nuzzle to suckle my numb nipples and because of the bond it was pure pleasure. Feelings crept upon me, some sort of recognition made through the Force. This was my husband. My animal groom. Almost, I heard voices say that I should yield to him, become one with him and then he shall transform for me, into the one thing I desired most. I would not be the first one to make such a choice. All over the galaxy people bent their lovers' will to theirs, crippled twosomes hobbling together in a monstrous union. Everywhere there was delusion. So the bond made it feel right. So this was my fate.

I succumb to the motions of this male thing, snaking his way under the foul sheets,  a large hovering ghost covered in white fabric, warm bundles of cloth caressing down my lower tummy. A hot mouth closed over my cock and I screamed, hissing and scrambling to get out of that amazing heat. But he kept sucking and I thought I'd bleed myself dry, down that silky throat. His
hands stroked down my hips, kneading hard until my lower body felt like a separate part of me. I thought I should start yelling 'no' when his thumbs stroked and parted my opening, all I managed to do was chock on my own saliva and whine. Soft urgent sounds that brought me guilt and shame.

I could well imagine those hands to be my Masters. In my mind, through the Force, it *was* Qui Gon who was bedding me. Who was silently pushing a hard cock into me, slick with pre-cum. It was his thick scrotums against my buttocks, and his hot cock poking into my prostate. It was him who I was impaled on, he who staked me and took me to the alter, my body jerking on his cock, boneless and mindlessly. He took my spirit and rendered it his, he gave me pleasure and broke my world. He plunged harder into me, his cock felt so good, so very good. I thrash on the bed, I wrapped my legs around his hips, I bore my shoulders into the headboard and I scream for him to fuck me more. To never let it end, to do it till I'm dead. Just deeper,
another inch, another millimeter, that when he withdraws my innards would fall out. A pool of green bile and bits of a charred heart. And still he was silent. I asked him to hold me as he gutted me, digging my nails through the sheets into his upper arms I begged him to take me to him. Envelope me in his arms, like I held him in my body. I called him love, I swore I loved him
and all he gave was silence and stabs.

I clenched my buttocks, wanting to feel his force. And he stirred restlessly as he moved forward and back and I feel the insatiable hunger pouring out of him, desire so thick it caused him pain. I was close, I could feel the pushes of his cock in shadowy sensations up to the base of my neck. The muscles compressed in my back, they bunched and I arched into the
uncontrollable spasms, my legs jumping and everything tightening, and it was this hard coil he hammered on, knocking, compressing, I threw back my head as vision whited out of my head. Oh it was good. It was beautiful. But there was hollowness in my chest. A gaping hole there that his cock could do nothing about. Until. I threw my left hand around his neck and looped him in, pulling his head down, his face was covered by the sheets and he was very reluctant. I bite into my lips and with great effort flexed the muscles in my anus, his whole body shuddered, and his arms gave out. I have his face in my hand. I look up into the white balls that were his eyes and I tug. I pleasured his cock until his mind shut down and I moved my face up to touch his. I move my lips over his cloth covered nose and brows, cheek against cheek, we fucked. My other hand slowly moved out from underneath my waist, still clutching in it, your lightsaber.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck. "I want to fuck you," I said to him and even near orgasm that made him pause. It made of him a funny dumbstruck figure. I press my lips to his mouth. Push my tongue against the fabric, and he gave me entrance, so I pressed the mouth of the saber into his chest and quickly pushed the activation button. He slumped against me and came at the same
time. I was sickened by the timing. Slowly I lowered him down onto the bed and arranged that sheet he so loved to stain with my virginal blood around him as a death shroud. His cock fell out of me like the dead thing it was. I sigh with relief and slowly withdrew the saber.  A really nifty thing about lightsabers is that they don't stain. I picked up his fur coat at the foot of the bed and threw off my ragged leggings. Wrapping myself in the garment, I was warmed by some residual body heat. With the portable heater in my hand, I felt blissfully warm. All there was left to do was go down the stairs, get his ship and get myself the hell out of here. Re-unite with my Master, convince him it was a painful and unwanted rape. Tell him the details, lie to him about there being no pleasure, seduce him. So I am broken, with sharp new edges.

Yet, as I stood at the door of the attic, curiosity burned in me. The thrill of the kill not yet worn off, the buzz of the sex would stay with me forever. I turned around. Walked to the bed, lifted the heater and basked the body in its orange glow. I pulled away your sheets and it was you, Master.

THE END :)

You can kill me at obi_wan_kenobi69@hotmail.com ;)