Author: Shane Mayhem
Disclaimer: Obi-Wan belongs to George Lucas. The other one belongs
to Paramount, I guess.
Warnings: Crossover. Non-Con. Bondage. Unbeta'd.
Feedback: Constructive is good.
Summary: Obi-Wan is captured, raped--not so original. The pairing,
however, is unique I think. Guess. ;)
Note: This one is old and may have been submitted before. but it's a prologue to the rest, so bear with me.
"So you're a....Jedi."
The calm, smooth voice so close to his ear made Obi-Wan jump in his
bonds. The chains clinked where they held his wrists and ankles
tight to the cold stone. He had not sensed his captor, so near. In
fact, he could barely sense his captor at all. The whir and hum of
an alien force field around him, tight as a cloak, dimmed his senses,
distracted them. Obi-Wan struggled to stay calm despite the pain in
his head and the disconcerting feeling of being bound and blinded,
utterly at the mercy of this stranger.
"Yes." He answered flatly. "What do you want with me?"
Obi-Wan strained to sense the man's mind, to see him through the
Force as Qui-Gon had taught him, but it was like trying to sense an
inanimate object. The form was there, but only an outline--no echo
of midichlorians from the other, such as he would feel from any
living thing. This unexpected frustration threw him off balance, and
he found himself sweating.
"I want to know how you do that. That...thing you did in the alley.
Are you telepathic?"
The voice had shifted positions, and now Obi-Wan felt a hand--a human
hand--on his throat, the index finger resting on the racing pulse.
He swallowed hard, and felt his stomach coil.
Telepathic? Did his captor have no knowledge of the Jedi? This
thought provoked confusion, fear, and hope in Obi-Wan's mind. So, he
had not been captured by the Jedi-hunters whom he'd been fighting.
But who? He remembered the stunning crack to his skull, so perfectly
landed that he hadn't even felt it until his vision was turning to
Black, as it was now. There must be no light in the room, for the
cloth band around his eyes would not be able to block it all out. He
arched his back against the cold stone table as a shudder raced
through his bare torso.
"Not precisely." His voice was calm, despite the gnawing fear. He
felt the familiar sense of the Force--his own force--settle into him,
filling and soothing him. He could weather this. He would get out.
Then his captor shifted again, and the cool hands traced down Obi-
Wan's chest to his bare stomach, following the midline. His skin
prickled and his mouth went dry as the palm slid lower, resting
against his groin.
"Psycho-kinetic then. Interesting talent, for a human." The voice
was a purr, almost, as the palm began to rub, itchingly, making Obi-
"I told you...I-I am a Jedi..."
The pressure lifted, and Obi-Wan sucked in a breath.
"What the hell is a Jedi?"
He realized, from the sound of the voice, that his captor must be
kneeling directly over him, one leg on either side of his torso. If
only he could knock him off-balance...perhaps the dampening field
could also be dislodged! Gathering himself as best he could, being
flat on his back, Obi-Wan swung his hips to the side, full-force
against his captor's left leg.
It was like hitting an iron post. He yelped, and a low, rusty
chuckle emanated from the man above him.
"That's gonna leave a mark."
He was about to ask again, what his captor's intentions were, but
could only make a choked noise as his hair was suddenly, roughly
grabbed, and his head pulled back, exposing the
throat. "Not....feeling so powerful now, are you, human?" The
snarled breath brushed across his larnyx, closer than a hair's
breadth. He thrashed, instinctively, imagining that his throat was
about to be torn out by this madman.
The hand in his hair tightened until tears formed in Obi-Wan's masked
eyes. The calm Force which had been helping him so far began to
swirl and eddy again, churning in him like the sea.
"Master..." he whispered, a sound not even audible, barely given
breath to escape.
Another laugh, and the hand in his hair loosened its hold somewhat.
"Master, eh? That's kind of kinky. Do you like it that way....Jedi?"
The word, obviously used by one who did not understand, sounded like
an insult. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth.
"What is your purpose in bringing me here?" he snapped, forcefully.
His body was tight as a lyre-string, awaiting the beginning of true
pain. But he was suddenly released, and could feel the air of his
captor's movement. All of the breath that he'd been holding rushed
out of him and his stomach lurched.
"To study you." The low voice said, with a hint of a smile. A very
twisted smile, Obi-Wan imagined. His teeth chattered faintly as cold
air brushed across his bare skin. He tentatively tried again,
sending a questing coil of Force outward, to brush against the man's
presence. All he could sense was a faint hum, like that of a machine.
But the link he shared with Qui-Gon was disturbed by his own fear.
He directed all the Force he could at his bonds, but the dampening
field made concentration nearly impossible. Whether or not he knew
anything about Jedi, his captor must know quite a bit about human
brainwaves. This thought was disconcerting to say the least and Obi-
Wan fought down his panic.
Then something sharp and solid cracked across his belly and he
momentarily lost the battle, bucking and twisting in his chains like
a frightened beast. It took his mind a few seconds to realize he had
not been cut, merely struck with something long and supple. Like a
Another blow followed, and another, thudding against his tender skin,
resonating sickeningly in his organs. A hissing breath was let out
"Beautiful..." his captor murmured, and suddenly, slender fingers
were tracing the marks of the whip. "And you didn't even scream."
Obi-Wan panted harshly, his lips parted as his chest flashed in and
out with terrified breaths. "Why are you doing this?" he croaked.
But there was no answer, only a mouth suddenly crushed to his, a
mouth that felt human but tasted wrong. Too clean, almost, bland.
The tiny electrical impulses which shot their way straight to his
nerve endings, however, were not bland. He gasped at the onslaught
of sensation, the tingling which translated itself into thrill as his
captor's mouth sucked at his, tongue diving between Obi-Wan's lips.
The terror of what was certain to happen was secondary to the
shivering -wrongness- of it--of a touch other than Qui-Gon's, a mouth
other than his Master's claiming him. And he unable to fight back.
Smooth, cool hands raced down his sleek body, prickling at his
nerves, sending pulses of electrical pleasure shuddering through
him. He felt himself begin to harden and fought to clamp down with
all the Force he could muster. Yet, in disarray, the Force did not
drown out the sensations, but almost heightened them, as Obi-Wan
began to struggle in earnest.
Hands like titanium manacles clamped down on his wrists, and a body
was lowered to his. He felt the smooth, surrealistically fluid
movement of muscles against his belly as his captor held himself
above Obi-Wan, barely touching. And try as he might, with all the
physical strength in his body as well as the Force, Obi-Wan could not
"You will pay for this!" he hissed between clenched teeth, tears of
frustration and fear wetting his blindfold.
"Oh shut up. I think you're enjoying it." The lighthearted tone of
voice enraged Obi-Wan, but that strange electrical sensation raced
through him, as potent as the Force, making his hairs stand on end
and his organ stir with unthinking lust. A knee against his groin
only made the pleasurable pain intensify, and a moan escaped his
*Oh Master, help me...*
It was the last coherent thought Obi-Wan had, as suddenly his
captor's hands moved, bringing that agonizing pleasure to his groin,
stroking him with barely a touch until he was painfully hard, his
breath screaming from his throat. A hard, slender body crushed
against his, pressing the air from him. His arms jerked at their
chains until blood ran down his wrists, trying to reach the body of
his captor, to push him away, to pull him closer.
The sleek muscles rolled again and some of the weight was lifted, as
his captor shifted. The hands roughly tore down Obi-Wan's trousers,
and effortlessly lifted his slim hips as the bound Jedi jolted upward
in fear and need. He cried out.
His captor's hand was immediately at his throat, as heavy as a
collar. Obi-Wan's head grew fuzzy as the hand closed, with
controlled strength, putting pressure on his jugular vein. Then the
man was forcing his way inside Obi-Wan with nearly unbearable
pressure at the same time as his hot tongue gently licked the blood
from Obi-Wan's wrists, in sickly painful counterpoint. The
sensations almost drove Obi-Wan mad.
His mind seemed to scatter as his captor filled him, stretching and
pushing, the sensation too shocking to be painful, yet nauseating.
The mouth traveled from his wrists down to his collar bone, tongue
dancing along the pulse there, the tiny electric shocks enticing his
sweating skin. His hips bucked, his long body lashing more slowly
against his bonds as he panted with need.
The word came out more as a moan than a plea, and Obi-Wan felt his
face flush. Something sparked inside, something deep and secret and
sickly sweet, twisting his stomach and making his body lurch.
Soft breath steamed across his throat, and teeth took the place of
his captor's hand, holding Obi-Wan's life lightly between them. The
thrusting continued, forceful and deep, rocking them both together.
His captor's body pressed more firmly against his, and Obi-Wan felt
smooth, silken skin, devoid of sweat. His mind reeled aimlessly,
undone by the dark pleasure of those mysterious electrical impulses,
firing into his nerves.
He cried out again, and the teeth closed on his throat, cutting off
the sound. A hand reached up to caress his face, gentle where the
thrusts were hard and unforgiving. He turned his head and bit.
There was no sound of pain from his captor, in fact, no sound at all
except remarkably steady breathing. The hand tasted of nothing--no
salt sweat, no blood.
The word was spoken, with amusement, coupled with a particularly
violent thrust that seemed to spear Obi-Wan through. It made him
sick, and he released the hand to gag, trying not to vomit. Then
dark pleasure exploded behind his eyes, blossoming in his groin with
wet heat, and he cried.
His fingers curled, grasping...his mouth open and head thrown back,
his bloody chest expanded with unspent breath. The shackles seared
into his wrists as his entire body surged upward against the heavy
weight of his captor. "Master!"
"Already, huh?" The voice taunted him, pulling his mind back from the
foggy haze of orgasm, and he snarled, sick again. The body against
his was as immovable as a planet. Slowly, agonizingly, the weight
lifted, letting cold air wash the tingle from Obi-Wan's skin.
His captor's hand trailed down his slick flesh, possessively,
almost. Obi-Wan shuddered and bit back tears of rage. He tried to
sink his mind in the Force, but the laugh of his captor tormented
him. "You should make an interesting subject of study, whatever you
His captor patted him, on the belly, as one would a beast after one
has dismounted. Obi-Wan suppressed a shudder. As his captor's
bootsteps echoed away across the room, he called on all his
strength. His body shivered and spasmed uncontrollably, cold and
sick, and to his shame, still half-aroused. He tried to bury all
such sensations as he slipped into a defensive meditation. Anger
sparkled in his mind. The next time his captor came, he would be
Feed-me-back if you want more. I don't want to clutter up the community with horrible fic no one wants to read! ;)