Glitter Fox (franzi1981) wrote in bound_ewan,
Glitter Fox

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FIC: No Master Beside You - Part 1. Q/O. O/X. NC-17. BDSM

Crossposted with my own LJ

Title: No Master Beside You - Part 1 "The Acquaintance"
Author: Franzi
Archive: Sure, just let me know where
Pairing: O/X, Q/O
Rating: NC-17
Category: BDSM, PWP
Warning: BDSM, Kink
Summary: Obi-Wan finds that a stranger can give he something Qui-Gon can’t. First part in what hopefully will become a series.
Thanks: To Tem-Ve as always for the great beta and help and to Bunny for some suggestions and general advices.

“Where are you going, Obi-Wan?“ Startled, Obi-Wan stopped on his way to the door and turned around to face his Master.

“I’m going to meet with Bant tonight, Master. We want to study to together for the exam.”

Lies. He had been lying to Qui-Gon for weeks now, months. He didn’t even blush, and he had learned to shield his thoughts from his Master. Only Bant knew the truth. Only she knew what he was really doing every other week. Bant was his cover, he trusted her – even more than Qui-Gon, his own Master and lover. He wanted to, oh yes, he really wanted to tell Qui-Gon the truth, but he couldn’t. Not yet.

“Don’t wait for me, Master. We might go out dancing afterwards.”

“But don’t stay too long, Obi-Wan. You know we have a long day ahead.”

“Yes, Master”, Obi-Wan answered, before he kissed Qui-Gon good-bye and headed out the door – to the BDSM club in the sublevels of Coruscant.

He was a bit afraid of tonight though. It was the first time for him to act out a "real" scene. So far, he had only been playing around. He had done some light bondage with Garen a year ago, he had been watching other people playing in this bar for some months now, but had never participated.

Tonight would be different.

He had met this man in the club a few days ago, when he was just sitting around at the bar, a tall, dark, silent figure, watching other people. He had been a bit startled at first when Obi-Wan had approached him, but then his eyes had flickered with… with what? Recognition? Obi-Wan wasn’t quite sure why the stranger would recognise him, as he certainly had never seen him before. There was something about him that made him trust the mysterious stranger. He felt that whoever it was had a strong control of the Force. Maybe a fellow Jedi? Maybe someone the Seekers had missed?

Yes, that must be the reason why he trusted him so easily. He seemed somewhat familiar, though Obi-Wan couldn’t quite say why.

As he entered the club he already saw the man sitting there, waiting for him, black cloak wrapped around him, hood pulled up – revealing only a few strands of the soft black hair, those blue eyes piercing through him like cold steel, a faint smile on his face.

//Force, what am I doing here? I don’t even know his name.//

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan discarded that last flicker of doubt. No, he had to do this now; he wanted – needed – it. Determined, he followed the stranger to a private room at the other end of the club. He was nervous, his guts tightened and he winced a bit when he entered the room. There were several kinds of hooks in the ceiling, a bench, table and a rack standing at the opposite wall of the room. On his right, he could see a sling. Other than that the room was empty, and the only light was coming from some candles burning in candle-holders on the wall.

“Strip,” the tall stranger ordered, his voice strong and calm.

Obi-Wan obeyed, slowly stripping out of his tunics, all the time aware of those blue eyes following his every move, savouring every inch of skin he exposed. Bending down, he continued stripping, discarding his brown boots, leggings and underpants – and finally he was standing there, naked, vulnerable and slightly humiliated. Unsure of what to do, he waited as the man circled him, those eyes on him all the time… and then he gasped as a strong hand grabbed his buttocks and held them firmly, spreading them experimentally.

“Yes, you have a very nice ass there, you little slut. Now for the rules that apply for every session: you will address me as Master and respond to any name I choose to give you. I won’t leave permanent marks on your body unless you ask me for them and will do what I can to heal any bruises I might leave on you. Also, I understand that you have chosen a safeword?”

“Yes, M… Master.” Obi-Wan nodded. It felt strange to call someone else but Qui-Gon Master, but it was only for those few hours, he told himself.

“What is it then?”

”Dagobah, Master.”

He heard the other man chuckle. “Alright, then. I trust that you will use it when needed. If you don’t, and I find out about that later, I will stop playing. No more sessions. Understood?”

“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan bowed his head, eyes fixed on the floor, readying himself for complete submission, slipping easily into the role.

He yelped in surprise as he was dragged over to the bench by his Padawan braid.

“Bend over.”

Unresisting, Obi-Wan bent over one end of the short bench, feeling the soft black leather touching his bare skin.

“You will wear a butt plug for the whole session tonight, slut. I want you to be prepared for whenever I decide to take you. For the next session, I expect you to come prepared.”

”Yes, M… Master.” Obi-Wan was shivering as he felt the stranger’s hands caressing his back, felt them everywhere, on his shoulders, along his spine, his sides, grabbing his buttocks, everywhere at the same time. He gasped as suddenly his cheeks were spread and a long, slick finger entered him, stretching him. Obi-Wan tried to thrust back on to the finger, but he was kept in place by his 'Master' using the Force.

“My, my. So impatient,” the stranger whispered in a silky voice.

Frustrated, Obi-Wan ceased his struggling, tried to relax – and was rewarded with a second finger joining the first, scissoring, moving inside him, brushing his prostate and sending waves of pleasure along his spine. He whimpered at the sudden emptiness as they were removed – only to be replaced with a cold, slick butt plug that seemed to be even larger than Qui-Gon’s cock. He felt it pressing against his prostate and clenched his cheeks experimentally. He groaned as the pressure, the pleasure increased and became almost unbearable.

“Careful, slut. Remember the rule.”

He nodded slightly and tried to calm himself. Straining his senses, he heard his new Master stepping back a bit, and then saw him calling a whip to his hands, using the Force before he was led to the wooden frame on the other side of the room. His Master motioned him to stand spread-eagle between the two posts. Obi-Wan gasped as his wrists were grabbed none too gently and he felt soft rope looping around them, tying them to the frame before those strong hands wandered further down and tied his ankles to the frame as well.

Pulling at the ropes, his Master tested them to make sure that they were tight enough. Obi-Wan shuddered slightly as a velvet scarf was wrapped tightly around his head, covering his eyes, taking away his sight. Even more than before, Obi-Wan was conscious of the position he was in. Vulnerable and exposed as he has never been before, with the butt plug causing a tingling sensation that travelled up his spine as it put pressure on his prostate. He shivered with anticipation as he waited for his Master to act.

Not really knowing what to expect, he flinched as the stranger took the long whip and touched his back lightly with its split tip, letting him feel the leather on his soft skin, caressing him with it. He winced as the whip cracked, but did not touch his body yet. Still, he could feel the movement in the air and tried to move away from it.

Behind him, his Master patiently waited for him to calm down and stop shivering before he let the whip come down across Obi-Wan’s shoulder blades, putting not even half of his strength into the blow.

Obi-Wan winced as he first heard, then felt the whip on his back. A short, stinging pain at first, than a fire across his back, starting to spread from the spot between his shoulder blades. But it felt good, in a strange way, a way unknown to him. He struggled in his bonds, making it look like he was trying to get away from the whip when all he wanted was to lean into the pain. The second lash caught him in surprise, and he had to bite back a scream as the tip of the whip wrapped around his chest and hit his left nipple with accelerated speed. The pain was stronger this time, and oh, it felt so good! Seconds later, the whip caught his right nipple with the same strength, setting his entire chest on fire. It hurt, but that was just what he needed. He needed the pain, needed the adrenaline, needed the rush it gave him to be rendered totally helpless. It felt so good, to be out of control, humiliated, giving himself to someone else.

He whimpered and writhed, his breathing becoming faster as the lashes rained down on his back with increased strength. And then he broke as the whip found the same spot it had hit earlier, cutting into his skin, tearing a scream from his throat. He began to struggle in earnest, feeling the ropes bruising his wrists and ankles, trying to get away from the whip that was still biting into his back without mercy, but at the same time embracing the pain, the humiliation.

And then it stopped. He heard the whip being put aside and then felt his strange Master’s hands all over his body, stroking his back and chest, twisting abused nipples, biting his neck, licking the warm blood from his wounds. He tried to thrust back, to signal what he wanted, needed, so badly.

“What is it, my pet? What do you want?”

“You, Master. I need you. Inside. Please,” Obi-Wan answered, his voice hoarse from screaming.

“Just because you beg so nicely…”

He let out a small cry as the butt plug was yanked out of him. And then those slender hands were on him again, caressing, exploring, scratching. His hips were held steady as his Master plunged into him, filling him, making him moan with pleasure. He was so close already, he wanted to move, wanted to thrust back, meet his Master’s cock. He ached for relief, and needy noises escaped his throat.

”You can come any time now,” he heard the voice say, and then his Master began to thrust. Fast. Hard. Sending him over the edge with a primal scream on his lips, feeling the hot semen of his Master inside him at the same time, just before he pulled out of his spent body.

Slowly, his 'Master' began to untie him, and as he removed the blindfold, Obi-Wan noticed that his hood was still – again? – pulled up, covering most of his face. Too exhausted to give this a second thought, Obi-Wan let himself be led to the table where he lay down on his stomach.

“As promised,” his strange Master said, “I will heal your wounds, not leaving any marks on your delicious body.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t do much more than nod in agreement. He winced as something cool and wet was rubbed over his back, easing the pain, slender hands gently massaging him, hands that felt so different from Qui-Gon’s. Hands that belonged to this stranger, to…

“Who are you?” Obi-Wan asked out of the blue.

The stranger stopped his movements and then walked around the table to kneel down in front of him.

“Oh, I think you’ll recognise me.”

With an icy smile, the stranger pulled down his hood and tucked his long black hair behind his ears… to reveal a prominent scar on his right cheekbone.

“Xanatos,” Obi-Wan whispered, unable to react. This was him. The scar, he recognised the scar from pictures and from what Qui-Gon told him. The broken circle. It was *him*. The same guy he had just allowed to tie him up, the same guy whose gentle hands were tending to his wounds just that moment – it was the same man who had tried to kill Qui-Gon and brought him so much pain. His mind screamed at him to get out of there, back home to Qui-Gon and tell him everything – and never come back here again.

But his body couldn’t react. He needed this. He needed the physical pain, all that he couldn’t ask of Qui-Gon Jinn. He couldn’t even think about asking this of Qui-Gon. He feared that he would reject him, that their still new relationship would change, that Qui-Gon wouldn’t understand his needs or wouldn’t be able to meet them. He needed this, and he knew that he would keep coming back. To him. Xanatos. The man whose name had been lying like a shadow over his relationship with Qui-Gon.

And what was almost worse – he trusted him. After all, if Xanatos wanted him dead, he could have killed him that night. He stared into the other man’s eyes, finding it hard to breathe. To think. To move.

He knew it. Xanatos knew that he would come back. Obi-Wan could see it in his eyes.

Still trying to comprehend what had just happened, Obi-Wan let him continue to heal the whip-marks. He felt the soothing energy of the Force flowing through his body.


How could he ever look him in the eyes again after this?

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I like this alot and a certain someone is standing over my shoulder and saying, "ohhhhh." :)
:D Thank you and I'm certainly glad that you liked this :)

Mmm... very yummy doll. :)

Thank you! :)
And you're so totally welcome. :)