Rope Tricks

by Lyta Alexander, a.k.a. The Pink Padawan (pinkpadawan@yahoo.com)

Archive: NC-17 version on M/A, nonslash PG-13 version at the Qui-Gon Jinn Discussion List Homepage

Category: Plot-What-Plot (my own category would be "Training Story"), S/M (sort of...), Romance (implicit here!)

Rating: NC-17

Warning: A bit of rough stuff, but it's all in the name of good training!

Spoilers: None

Summary: Qui-Gon teaches some unorthodox combat techniques to a class of initiates using rope. Obi-Wan gets his lessons later.... Set before TPM-- Obi-Wan is 20.

Feedback: Yes, please! This is my first piece of Q/O slash I've allowed to see the light of day, so I'm aching to know if it's any good!

Disclaimer: Although I am tying George Lucas' characters in knots, I promise I will not set them out at yard sales with price tags attached. In other words, there ain't no way I'm making any money off this little labor of love, so don't sue me! Notes: //marks Obi-Wan's thoughts//, while *marks Qui-Gon's thoughts*

It was very early morning, and Qui-Gon stood before the large sliding door which led to the balcony of the quarters he and his apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi shared in the Jedi Temple. The young orange Coruscant sun filtered minimally through the treated transparisteel...the glow intensified as Qui-Gon slowly turned a small dial on the wall next to the window. The warm light illuminated the Jedi Master's wakeful face, uncovering the depth of his sharp blue eyes, which turned back to gaze at his stirring Padawan.

A muffled groan and lazy movement issued from the bed, as the unaccustomed glare reached Obi-Wan Kenobi's tightly wrapped form. Qui- Gon stopped his manipulation of the brightness knob on the wall and walked to stand beside his Padawan's bedside.

"Up now, Obi-Wan. We have a lot to do today." Qui-Gon allowed his voice to sound somewhat drowsy, but insistent. Obi-Wan struggled to a sitting position and squinted up at his master.

"Yes, Maaahhhster" It was more a yawn than real speech. He executed a slow side roll, which brought him to a standing position in front of his Master. His eyes adjusted slowly and Qui-Gon's face came into view. As Obi-Wan focused on his Master's face, he realized that his Master also was intensely focused on him.

Qui-Gon's eyes traveled purposefully down his Padawan's naked form, sparkling appreciatively as he saw Obi-Wan realize what was happening. The Padawan blushed slightly and sat down on the bed, his gaze still fixed on his Master. He gasped slightly as Qui-Gon reached down and grabbed his shoulders gently.

Qui-Gon's smile spread to the rest of his face as he lifted his Padawan by the shoulders and maneuvered him purposefully to the dresser, where a fresh set of training clothes lay, ready for habitation by one Obi- Wan Kenobi.

"I can see I awoke you from a particularly interesting dream, young Padawan, but your training comes first, as all Jedi know." Qui-Gon was almost laughing now, but he restrained himself to allow Obi-Wan to regain his senses without undue confusion. His Padawan was pawing at his hands and rubbing his freshly awakened young body against Qui-Gon's tunics like a sandfrog in heat.

"Obi-Wan! Training time!" Qui-Gon couldn't keep the huskiness of desire from creeping into his voice now, but his purpose remained strong. He backed away from his rutting Padawan and held out a pair of pants.

"I think you need a meditation period this morning, Padawan. Something to get your priorities straight. Now, Jedi Padawan Kenobi, kneel!" Qui-Gon's voice had swiftly fallen into a barking rhythm and Obi-Wan promptly dropped the pair of pants from his hand.

He dropped to his knees where he was, sitting naked with his once neatly stacked clothing surrounding him in disarray. His eyes closed automatically, his body fell into the natural stance of long practice, kneeling with straight back, hands cupped in front, right over left. The flush faded from his face and body as his breathing evened out...

An unknown time later...

The shallow dark world faded abruptly from Obi-Wan Kenobi's mind with the words of his Master, " Obi-Wan, you will get dressed and you will meet me in the gardens in 30 minutes. You will bring a 9 foot length of rope, looped by about a foot at one end. You will bring yourself and your lightsaber. Make sure you are well-groomed. I won't have a sloppy Padawan at training today."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and rose, immediately heading for the 'fresher. //Why did he emphasize "well-groomed"?// The thought faded and he proceeded to shower off the dreams of the night.

The sun shone evenly into the high windows of the Jedi Temple Gardens. It was now midmorning, and there were small gatherings of Jedi at their devotionals in various copses of greenery. The clearing near the large fountain was fairly teeming with a class of older initiates between 10-12 standard years of age. They gathered in a circle, which began to clear now, revealing the towering form of his Master.

Obi-Wan suddenly knew why he had asked for a well-groomed Padawan. These initiates were quite impressionable, and if they were asked to defer to a sloppy Jedi Knight or Padawan, their keen minds would question everything--"why does your Master allow you to wear your braid that way? Why are your tunics wrinkled? Who cuts your hair?" These were questions a Padawan would find tiresome, but an initiate is so focused on becoming a Padawan that he is intensely aware of the fine features of every Padawan he came into contact with.

Apparently Qui-Gon meant to have Obi-Wan instruct this class of initiates alongside him today. The thought did not comfort Obi-Wan in the slightest. He liked to be prepared, but he knew this was a lesson for him as well. //Swallow your apprehension and get on with it, Obi-Wan...//

He strode forward into the shuffling mass of initiates, making his way to his Master. A questioning look was all it took, and Qui-Gon spoke readily. "Ah, Padawan, you're here. You will be assisting me in a demonstration this morning. Master Yoda has requested that I show his class some unorthodox fighting techniques," Qui-Gon glanced at the rope in his Padawan's hand, "thus the unorthodox weapon."

Obi-Wan handed the rope off to Qui-Gon and proceeded to play the part of discipline officer, clapping his hands twice and barking formation orders, "Form into lines, initiates. Be mindful and give Master Qui-Gon your full attention." Obi-Wan made a circuit of the class and returned to stand next to his Master.

Qui-Gon quietly began. "Good morning initiates. I am Master Qui-Gon Jinn, and this is my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Master Yoda has asked us to instruct you this morning in some fighting techniques which you are probably not accustomed to seeing in your everyday training." The initiates' eyes were all fixed on Qui-Gon, who now held the rope stretched in front of him, the loop hanging down from his left hand.

"Today, you will learn some creative ways to immobilize an attacker using only a looped piece of rope. You might recognize this type of rope, as it is commonly used around the Temple and is thus freely available. You might find yourself in the position one day of having nothing else with which to defend yourself." Qui- Gon squared off with his Padawan.

"My Padawan will attack me with a full speed punch to the face. I will defend using the rope. Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon looked to his Padawan.

With the signal, Obi-Wan launched a normal full speed punch at his Master's head. Qui-Gon knocked it away, but draped the loop over the offending arm, quickly pulling the free end through the loop and around Obi-Wan's non-punching arm. Qui-Gon raised, then lowered his body, pulling the rope with him until he was behind Obi-Wan.

The Padawan was hopelessly tied, both arms locked and trussed behind his back. Qui-Gon pulled tighter and looped the thus liberated end of the rope around Obi- Wan's neck. He pulled until a small tapping issued from Obi-Wan's booted foot. The initiates gaped at the sight. Obi-Wan was pressed against the floor, arms securely tied, back arched around Qui-Gon's knee, his face turning red from the constriction of the rope around his neck. And it had taken a total of 5 seconds.

"This is a dangerous technique for the untrained. Therefore, you will not be allowed to practice this on each other...only on me or my Padawan. To illustrate, just look at how quickly I could have choked the life out of my Padawan. One must be careful when using these techniques in practice. " A slight gasp issued from Obi-Wan as Qui-Gon finally released his control. The initiates stared as Obi-Wan untied himself with ease, maintaining possession of the rope afterwards.

"This technique requires creativity and the implicit understanding of empty hand techniques, as they are the basics of mastering your own body's flow of energy. The rope is merely an extension of your body, just like a lightsaber or any other weapon. And it doesn't necessarily require strength, just good mechanics. My Padawan will now demonstrate on me."

Obi-Wan struggled to remember the last time he and his Master had practiced rope techniques, and couldn't bring an image to mind. //Just trust the Force and do what you always do...// *Live in the moment and it will come back to you, my Padawan* Qui-Gon sent reassurance across their bond as he squared up to Obi-Wan.

The punch came quickly, and Obi-Wan struck it with the end of the rope, pulling it through the loop on the other side as he stepped around Qui-Gon, tying his arms together as he went. Obi-Wan dropped his weight and Qui-Gon fell like a sack of Alderaanian Chocolate Oranges to the grassy ground. Obi-Wan pulled his Master's arms over his head and looped the rope again, this time around his legs. He tied the rope securely in a tight knot for effect.

The Master lay unceremoniously facedown with his arms and legs tied together, and yet he managed to sound dignified. "Some of you will have enough discipline with the Force by now to use it to untie yourselves from even such a well- executed trussing as this one. " He looked sidewise and caught the eyes of a young blonde girl, who looked into him with piercing green eyes. She was intensely aware, as were those around her. The initiates were enjoying the show, but they were picking it apart for lessons they could take away with them.

They watched as the ropes, which were tight enough to bend Qui-Gon's back into a quite uncomfortable looking arc, fell away as nothing. The young blonde girl spoke first. "Master Qui-Gon, what do you do if you can't get it tied?"

"It is not always necessary to tie the rope. It is enough to wrap the rope around the assailant just tightly enough to pin the arms or legs to his body so he can't fight you. It gives you enough time to get away, find a better weapon or employ Force-techniques. Come, try it on Obi-Wan. " The small girl rose and squared up to the much larger Obi-Wan. She didn't even wait for him to attack, but threw the rope gleefully around Obi-Wan's neck and pulled on it. Inexperienced as she was, the move allowed her to lower Obi-Wan to her level so she could finish the job.

Every initiate was given a turn, and by the end of the class two hours later, both Master and Padawan were criss-crossed with rope burns. They dismissed the class to midday meal and trudged back to their quarters to shower. The morning spent tied in knots seemed to have tied their tongues in knots. Neither Master nor Padawan spoke as they walked along.

Upon reaching their quarters, Obi-Wan proceeded to stretch himself out as widely as possible on the bed, as if to throw off the rope that was now sliding to the floor from his weary grasp. Ten initiates had roped him; ten had roped his Master. Several times each. No wonder Yoda didn't want to teach this class...Obi-Wan had heard that it was traditionally taught by a visiting Master. Perhaps Qui-Gon had merely drawn the unlucky lot this semester. He found his thoughts drifting away, felt weight upon him....

Qui-Gon looked calmly down at his bleary Padawan and spoke. "Well, Padawan, what lesson did you learn?"

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and focused on his Master's inquiring eyes, which bored into him from straight above. He languidly pushed his hips into the comfortable weight of his Master bearing down on him. A small smile reached the corners of his mouth and he breathed out, unable to find his thoughts.

Qui-Gon pulled away slightly and met his Padawan's eyes. He cleared his throat quietly, "Lesson, Padawan. Focus and tell me." Qui-Gon's indigo stare was not brooking any delays or wanderings.

//Lessons...focus...patience...definitely patience.// "Master, I noticed many of the initiates attempting to copy yours or my exact techniques. But it failed for some and worked for others. The technique is individual...like a Padawan's training is individual. No two are the same in the Force." He rippled his tired shoulder and chest muscles enticingly, trying to make contact with his burningly close Master's body.

No reaction. "You already knew that, Padawan. Did you learn nothing new?"

"I didn't know I could still do those techniques. I thought I had forgotten them, but I had not."

"I imagine you HAD forgotten them, Padawan. You found the flow of the fight. It is an old lesson, but one that needs to be remembered explicitly occasionally, even by an advanced Padawan. Very good."

Qui-Gon's expression softened and he lowered himself slowly into the range of his questing Padawan, who quickly pulled him down into a deep kiss full of the hunger he remembered from the morning's awakening. The Master's long locks fell forward as his face met Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan's eyes closed, and he was engulfed in the singular closeness of his Master's mouth, his intense darkened eyes that saw through to his very soul. Abandoned to the sensuality of the moment, Obi-Wan did not feel a slight shifting in his Master's weight...

He felt a slight tingle as the Force gathered around him; then it happened. A tightness engulfed him; the ropes he had dropped on the floor were suddenly looping around his wrists and ankles. It all happened in less than a second. Obi-Wan pitched forward face-first, as his arms and legs were drawn sharply together behind him. Qui-Gon did not break contact with his Padawan's lips until the final motion.

Obi-Wan's eyes opened in sudden shock, but it did not last long. He could see what the lesson must be here. He held the ropes as he found them, using tendrils of Force to trace their lines of movement. He began to untangle the snaked ropes calmly, as he had done during the demonstration. Through his concentration, he could feel Qui-Gon's hands on him, pulling at his focus, arousing him beyond his preparation.

Obi-Wan gasped aloud as Qui-Gon's touch moved down and caressed him through his pants, teasing him to aching hardness. He opened his eyes and noticed that Qui- Gon wasn't there at all. He stood above him, several feet away, calmly watching, directing the Force into every vulnerable area Obi-Wan had.

Obi-Wan raised his head off the bed and furrowed his brow at his Master, who stood straight and expressionless in beside him. His eyes had closed. His breathing was imperceptible.

Obi-Wan breathed heavily, then deepened and regularized his own breathing rhythm, allowing himself to mix with the same Force that held his firm member straining against his clothing, moving with it. The spaces opened and he saw Qui-Gon there, stroking him with the patterns of Force that swirled about him. Obi-Wan touched those waves and found the ones that held the ropes. He worked the Force tendrils loose slowly...

The ropes only became tighter. The arch in his back increased, and he grunted at the pain caused by the contortion. //Slow your breathing...trace the knots...//

Obi-Wan was doing everything he had learned, but nothing would loosen the ropes. He strained his neck to catch a glimpse of Qui-Gon, perhaps to divine what he had done to him, but Qui-Gon did not appear to even be concentrating now. He was sitting perfectly naked in the large chair facing the bed relaxing and watching bemusedly. His muscles were sheened with a light layer of sweat; he was visibly aroused, but unmoving.

The sight rocked Obi-Wan's concentration once more. He was being stroked everywhere now; his penis held his pants away from his body with its incredible state of arousal; Force-fingers plunged mercilessly into his flexed buttocks, caressing his prostate in an almost painful way, as his back was severely arched by the cutting ropes.

He was close to release now, even through the pain of the ever-tightening ropes. He struggled to keep his breathing regular, to maintain his focus, as the waves of wildly tingling sensation rose and fell at shorter intervals, threatening to overwhelm Obi-Wan in their inexorable current.

Qui-Gon rose to stand next to Obi-Wan, who was unnaturally bent and heaving his entire body in slow rhythm. "There IS a lesson here, Padawan. You must find it. You will find it, because I will not allow you to come until you do."

Obi-Wan's head jerked up to fix a stare on his Master; his mouth opened incredulously. Slowing his short gasps, he grasped for the lesson, feeling anger rise, slowly, then frustration as ropes shrank into him. His breathing quickened, and he heard himself whimper. //That's not right...// The fingers of the Force continued their silent assault on Obi-Wan's overtaxed body, directed by the will of Qui-Gon Jinn, who stood awaiting his Padawan's breakthrough.

He reached out for the bond he shared with his Master. How could Qui-Gon be doing this? But he sensed no disturbance coming from Qui-Gon, save the familiar Force-tickling they often shared during their lovemaking. That tickling was now an agony. He had felt himself fall over the edge to certain orgasm some time ago, but he was being held back, his body shaking uncontrollably as it was slowly overloaded.

Obi-Wan's face had flushed red; his body was covered in sweat that ran off him, sinking into the sheets beneath him. His Padawan braid was matted across his face, clenched hard in his teeth. Obi-Wan looked up again with difficulty. His Master was now sitting in the chair, reading the latest issue of the Coruscant Senate Review and munching on a Pralla fruit.

Obi-Wan felt himself beginning to chuckle, despite the pain of the ropes, which never ceased their inexorable tightening, despite his spasming sexual organs which would not yield their release, yet pushed him beyond it. The sheer absurdity of the situation: he, tied up beyond his capability to extract himself, shaking life a leaf in a hurricane, Qui-Gon reading a banal publication, munching fruit and watching him like it was a sporting event...

Obi-Wan's chuckling became a high-pitched keening laugh, a hysterical sounding animal noise, which came in waves from the struggling Padawan. He was sweating profusely now, gasping with fits of laughter, which would not stop.

Qui-Gon looked up momentarily. "Stop struggling, Padawan, and you will get it." He calmly buried his face in the banal publication once more, leaving Obi-Wan to unravel the lesson.

The laughing abruptly stopped as Obi-Wan felt his feet touch his head and realized just how tangled he really was. A glimmer of fear touched him. He swallowed hard, caught his galloping breath and turned it around.

//What is wrong with me? I'm a Jedi. I lost my calm so quickly.//

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, slowed his breathing. He breathed in the intense pain which stabbed through his limbs, let it pass through him. His mind detached itself from his violently shaking body, poised as it was beyond the brink. He drew the Force around him into himself, not looking for the ropes or anything this time. Then he could see. A hard knot inside him, at his very center. The Force flowed through it and proceeded in a twisted path from it. He caught one swirling tendril and followed it in. There, he knew why he could not escape.

He was tied from within...the Force had knotted within Obi-Wan; Obi-Wan was, in effect, tying himself up. The realization shot through him; recognition shattered the hard crystal of resistance and the knots slid off him. His body uncurled and flopped like a fish on dry land. The mind met the body once again, and the current caught in him, spasms ran through his body, releasing the orgasmic reflex, shooting it through him and out.

His mouth opened as he swallowed the air, screaming involuntarily as heavy waves carried him under. Eyes closed, breaths fast and ragged now, he sloughed the knot, casting the ropes of Force from him. Warmth spread through him, spread across his groin, through his abdomen, arms, legs. Sharp pains of unaccustomed freedom lanced through him as well, and he stretched his shaking body, collapsed in exhaustion.

Qui-Gon, who had watched it all silently, tossed the magazine away as if it had offended him and moved to sit on the bed beside his Padawan. He allowed Obi-Wan to overcome the rush of sharp spasms which ran through him as he slowly sat up and stretched himself.

"What did you learn, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan swore there was a note of amusement in his otherwise impassive Master's voice. "I...untied myself, not the ropes, Master." His breath had slowed but was still short and gasping, "I don't understand it, but there was a knot inside me, and I could not escape until I broke it."

"Understanding is not necessary. What you felt was a trick that advanced Force- users can use against opponents who may or may not be strong in the Force. I tied you up physically and held you momentarily using the Force in a straightforward way. But then, I pulled it into a "twist" of sorts inside you and left you that way. It caused you to fight yourself until you found the knot I had made."

Obi-Wan's eyes came into sharp focus on his Master.

"Master, I know the lesson now. The techniques are individual, not just in the body, but in the manipulation and presence in the Force. I cannot let myself become too lazy in my relationship with the Force. It is a living thing and is ever-changing."

"Good, Obi-Wan. You, like the rope, must be a flexible weapon. Even you, my Padawan, tend to fall into familiar patterns which can be predicted. You must learn to rely on the Force, not the techniques you have practiced. Once you learn the technique, you will be able to throw it away, retaining only its essence. Then, you have truly mastered the art you practice."

"Yes, Master. I suppose the deft use of your Force-fingers was but a distraction?" Obi-Wan smiled wryly at his Master, who now eased him back onto the bed, pressing his rock-hard cock directly into Obi-Wan's stomach.

"That was merely a warm-up exercise, Padawan. Now to the actual workout." Qui- Gon smiled indulgently at his obviously worn-out apprentice, who lay unmoving under him, eyes closing. Qui-Gon deftly peeled Obi-Wan's dampened clothing from his equally damp body.

A sharp yelp and definite stirring proceeded from the startled Padawan, as Qui- Gon reached his actual flesh fingers under him and spread a tingling lubricant across his cleft. This was followed by the sweet invasion of Qui-Gon's long digits into him.

A wide smile spread across Obi-Wan's sleepy features as he opened to his Master's physical caresses. Qui-Gon's face was bent close to Obi-Wan's, an intense gaze rested on his Padawan. The Jedi Master focused on the object of his love...his attention was total.

"You know I couldn't have sat there and been unaffected by what I had seen. You were beautiful, my Obi-Wan. Even in your struggling. I am always touched deeply to see you grasp a difficult lesson, to watch you flowering, becoming a Jedi, feeling and understanding the Force by my side."

Qui-Gon rubbed himself against Obi-Wan's languid body, working his hands into Obi-Wan's tight muscles, relaxing him. Slowly, he raised Obi-Wan's legs, kneading his corded thigh muscles, positioning himself between them, resting them on his strong shoulders.

Obi-Wan groaned as his muscles unknotted and his arousal grew strong once more. "I love you, my Master. But don't do that to me again!" Obi-Wan's wry smile had a touch of utter seriousness in it. The lesson was a painful one. To bind one who is adept in the Force by such a method was dangerous if the student had not learned sufficient control and focus. Obi-Wan excelled most others in this area, and found the answer relatively quickly.

Qui-Gon returned a soft contemplative smile, "My love, I would not put you through something I didn't know you could take. You are extraordinary." He slowly pushed inside Obi-Wan's body, feeling tightness engulf him, feeling the essence of his Padawan, that which had been shaped through years of training and years of love. Love was the key.

Obi-Wan surrounded him, touched him inside, beyond where the tendrils of Force could go. Deep inside the sea of his own personality, deep inside what was Qui- Gon, lay the essence of Obi-Wan Kenobi, even as Obi-Wan was the sea that surrounded him.

Obi-Wan opened to his Master, feeling their bond, feeling his Master inside him. The rhythm sank into him, pouring itself between the Jedi. Suddenly, Qui-Gon turned him over, pressing himself farther inside, wrapping his arms tightly around Obi-Wan's abdomen, pulling him close in.

Qui-Gon pumped harder and buried his mouth in Obi-Wan's neck, drinking in his scent, bathing in it. His large hands encircled Obi-Wan's hardened member and pumped it in his own inexorable rhythm. Master and Padawan heaved together and fell into orgasm together. Qui-Gon collapsed against his Padawan's warm sweat- sheened back, gasping silently. His breaths swept Obi-Wan's short hair like the wind in a field of young grain.

Obi-Wan had closed his eyes and was slowly sinking to the bed, allowing Qui- Gon's weight to push him down. His Master was still inside him, pulsing in small spasms that caused Obi-Wan to moan softly as he sank into unconsciousness.

Suddenly, he was being hauled up unceremoniously. Qui-Gon held him upright and was dragging him to the 'fresher. "I love you more than the sky and stars, Obi- Wan, but you can't sleep until you shower."

Obi-Wan came to his senses long enough to step into the warm stream of the shower stall and feel Qui-Gon's lather-rich hands working across his back, along his arms. He turned to find Qui-Gon's eyes focused; he was absorbed with his task, giving it his full attention.