Power Play

by Adelaide Elizabeth Morgan



Category: Q/O, PWP, BDSM

Archive: You want it, you got it. Be sure to drop us a line to let us know though, won't you

Rating: I'd most definitely say NC-17

Feedback: Loved it? Loathed it? Couldn't give a damn? Tell me anyway. Email address is Adelaide@morganne.freeserve.co.uk

Spoilers: Nope, not a single one.

Disclaimer: The Star Wars world and all it's inhabitants are the property of George Lucas. Obi-Wan's poem, entitled Whips and Chains, is written by a friend who doesn't want their name attached and is used by permission, unlike everything else herein.

Summary: Qui-Gon inadvertently reads Obi-Wan's journal, and discovers he doesn't know his apprentice as well as he thought he did



"Master, I know I shouldn't really ask you, as it's not my place."

Qui-Gon Jinn interrupted before Obi-Wan could say any more. "Padawan, you can ask me anything, you should know that by now"

"I know, but. " Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed as he ran his eyes over the piles of work he had spread all over their room. "Could you possibly get me a datapad from my room. I really need my Polaric dictionary for this"

"Of course Padawan. Where in your room is it?"

"Umm. as far as I know, it's in the middle drawer of my cabinet." Obi-Wan looked up from his studies on the history of Polaris to flash Qui-Gon a brilliant grin. "And Master,"?

"Yes Padawan?"

"Thanks!"

Qui-Gon rose from his seat and carefully made his way across the floor to Obi-Wan's bedroom, being mindful not to step on any of Obi-Wan's work which was spread far and wide all over the room.

He made his way to the cabinet on the other side of Obi-Wan's room and opened the middle drawer. The slight that befell him amazed Qui-Gon; the drawer was an absolute mess, no semblance of the impeccable organisation that was obvious in all other aspects of his Padawan's life. He sighed and started routing around for the disc he was looking for. A few minutes later when he still hadn't found the Polaric dictionary, Qui-Gon's eyes became drawn to a black leather-bound book - an actual book, with pages composed of paper. The fact that Obi-Wan had such a possession intrigued Qui-Gon immensely; Obi-Wan had never been a fan of such antiques, preferring the digital word to the written.

His curiosity forced Qui-Gon to pick the book up, revelling in the feel of the soft leather between his hands. The book had no title written on it anywhere, so he turned the page. The first crisp white page had but one line of text written on it, in his padawan's spidery handwriting: Property of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Almost straight away Qui-Gon's mind started screaming No. Whatever this book was, it was private to Obi-Wan, not for him to read. He had no right to even have it in his hands, there was no way he would break the trust between them by reading it. He would not turn the page, he would not, he was not interested in it.

Even as he was berating himself for contemplating reading something private of Obi-Wan's, his hands were already turning the pages.

'Your heart is mine' He commands

My body suspended by His hands

Which roam over my body

Tantalising and teasing

My arms lifted and hands bound

I protest and am punished for the sound

The leather shrapnel smash against me

The endless waves of pleasure

Cascade, my body thrashes

And He chains me,

I'm His prisoner

Yet I want to be

His touch is harsh but warm

I swing suspended by silver metal

He takes one and wraps it round

My face so the kinks of chain

Are like a horses' bit, all

I can taste is the metal

Yet then He's there

Flesh, metal, flesh

He breaks, He is in control

I crave for Him

I tell Him so

Again I'm punished

The tears are there

But I love the way His

Deft fingers pull the restraints

When He has had enough

When He is ready

He takes me

And I love him

He is my Master

Qui-Gon's breath quickened as he read the words Obi-Wan had committed to the page. Could it be true? All rational thought left his mind as the image of Obi-Wan, chained and pleading for his love flooded his senses. He calmed himself enough to turn to the next page of the book.

I am blindfolded and chained to the bed, my body stretched to its limits, and painfully aroused. Every nerve ending stimulated by his touch. I can hear him moving about the room, but I know not what he is doing. After what feels like an eternity, he returns hands roaming once more over my body. I try to arch body up to meet His touch, but when I do he stops and moves away. I can hear him rustling something, opening a drawer I think. He moves back to the bed and sits down next to me. His hands play over my nipples, teasing them until they are fully erect. He take first one, then the other into His warm, wet mouth, suckling as though he were a babe. He rubs His hands once more over them, and I can no longer stay silent as he wants me to. Screams of raw passion erupt from my lungs, and I start moaning His name in need. A slap, then another to my face remind me to remain silent, but, although it is His wish, I cannot. He reaches to the cabinet beside the bed. The next sensation is of som ething metallic and cold on my right nipple. The jagged jaws of the clamp bite down on my arouse flesh. My body bucks and I scream in pain, but it feels so good. He places one hand on my stomach, holding me down whilst my other nipple receives the same treatment.

Qui-Gon had to physically shake himself. There were rational sections of his brain that were berating him for reading this, and also for hoping that Obi-Wan might be fantasising about him.

But the section of the brain that controlled his actions and already sent the order to turn to the next page.

"Master, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Please for."

"Silence" he thunders throwing me against the wall and holding me there, spread-eagled with the force. I am already naked, I am never allowed clothing in private. He divests himself of clothing, slowly revealing His sumptuous, muscular body to me. As each new section of His skin is revealed, he rubs those elegantly long and lithe fingers over them. Down over His chest, pausing to play with His nipples, hardening them to little erect nubs, His breath coming in little gasps. He traces the muscles of His stomach, teasing me, punishing me. He knows how I ache to touch him, the evidence showing VERY clearly and I know he knows because he hasn't once taken His eyes off me. I wonder how much longer I can cope, without starting to. Oh Force no, anything but that. He's has removed His pants, stepping out of them. He too is now as naked as the day he was born, and has a very prominent erection. As I watch, unable to look away, one of those graceful hands wraps itself around it and His thumb tr aces over the tip. His breathing is fast and ragged, and I am gasping for breath and moaning. I cant help it- I start to thrash against the force-restraints holding me against this wall, I need to touch him, need him to touch me.

Qui-Gon realised that he had started to mirror the action of whoever it was Obi-Wan was writing about, that his hand had moved into his pants and was curled about his own erection. He also found himself to be achingly hard and desperate for release. He blinked rapidly and looked around guiltily before removing his hand and turning to the next page in the book.

I can feel the cold stone floor beneath me. I cannot see for the blindfold around my eyes, nor can I move due to the leather restraints holding me immobile. Leather straps wrapped around my cold body; one round my ankles, one just below my knees and one above. One round my hips. My wrists are bound beneath me by another strap. My arms too are secured by a number of straps. One just below my elbows and again, one above. The tops of my arms are strapped to keep them still. It's not as if I could have moved them anyway. The last strap is around my chest, over my nipples. Of course He had teased my nipples so they were extremely sensitive before he bound them, and the sensation of the leather pressing against them is overwhelming.

I cannot move, I am at His mercy, His to so with as he pleases.

I do not know how long I had been lying here before He returned, but now He is here I can only pray he is here to give me the release my body demands. He runs His hands all over my body, but avoids the one place that craves His touch. He checks all the straps, and tightens them even more, making me moan.

"Master. Qui-Gon please.." I beg.

The crack of a whip across my stomach has me arching up, the tears threatening.

"Did I give you permission to speak my name?"

"N.. No Master" Oh shit, what have I done now. I'm really in for it. Master, I'm sorry, really I am, I plead silently, knowing if I was to speak out loud my punishment would be worse.

At long last His hands stroke the insides of my thighs. I try to arch up to meet His touch, to squirm to make His hands touch my penis. All I receive for my trouble is another whipping on my stomach. His hands do move to caress my penis though, feather-like touches that are barely there, but are enough to excite me. As I respond to His touch His hand moves faster and more firmly, bringing me so close to the edge that I am thrashing in my bonds, moaning and whimpering, but He leaves me there, denies me the pleasure.

"Open your mouth" He demands. I know better than to disobey a direct order, so I comply. Another strap goes around the back of my head, and something large and round is forced into my mouth, keeping it open. The air of the room vibrates as He sends a force suggestion of some description to my body, I do not know what though. He snaps something cold and metallic around my neck, and immediately I am cut off from the force; a force collar, damn Him.

"Remember little one, that you are mine. Totally mine. As I'm sure you know, I have given your body it's orders and they are very simple ones; you are not allowed to cum until I tell you that you can. Also your erection will not subside until you do. You are at my mercy"

The only thought running through Qui-Gon's mind was 'me? Obi-wan means me? Obi-Wan. wants me! My padawan, the most beautiful man ever wants me to do that to him.. Oh Force let it be true..'

And so he turned to the next page.

His little one. That's what he calls me. Never Obi-Wan, or even Padawan, only little one. Its humiliating and degrading I know it is, but it turns me on. The way he owns and controls me, ties me up to sexually torture me, every little aspect is so sensually erotic.

<sigh> What I wouldn't give for Qui-Gon Jinn to possess me like this.. I would willingly submit to him, give him everything I am.

"Master, why is it taking you so long to.." Obi-Wan froze in the doorway to his room, jaw dropped in shock, face paled as he saw the book Qui-Gon had in his hands. Qui-Gon slowly turned to face his padawan, who started backing slowly out of the door shaking his head in disbelief.

The Jedi Master held out one hand to his padawan. "Come here, my little one"