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Title: Jedi Binding Tape
Author: heartofslash
Fandom/Pairing: Star Wars, Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Rating: NC-17 kink
Disclaimer: Please, I beg of you, never let George Lucas know I did this. I live in terror of a horde of ill-behaved storm troopers showing up on my doorstep demanding that honour be satisfied.
Note: It is necessary to have read Jedi Choice to really understand this one. All part of the The Jedi Kink Series: Jedi Choice, Jedi Binding Tape, Jedi Boots, Padawan Braid, Jedi Utility Belt, Jedi Robes, Jedi Sash.
Jedi Binding Tape
“Master, I have a request.”
“Yes, Obi-Wan.”
“I wish you to bind me.”
“Bind you to what, Obi-wan?”
“The bed, Master.”
The master has never done that. He’s done most other things, and he’s even bound Obi-Wan, but never to the bed.
“Master, I promise you, I never think of him.”
“Never think of whom?” the master asks in an imperious tone of voice.
“The man who mastered me before. The one who tied me to the bed.”
“You just did.”
“Did what?”
“Think of him.”
“Only because it is the only possible reason that you have never tied me to the bed.”
“I think you overstep the boundaries with that assumption, Padawan.”
“So, tie me to the bed!”
“No one likes a pushy bottom.”
“So… tie me to the bed and punish me, then.”
The padawan lies perfectly still. He lies still because he cannot move. So thoroughly has he been tied to the bed, arms above his head, legs spread wide, he cannot move a muscle.
The master sits next to him, calmly reading from a datapad and sipping tea.
The padawan seriously cannot move. Wide strips of fabric loop around his wrists and will not budge, yet they do not feel sticky at all, as if they are held in place by magic. “If I may ask, Master, what did you bind me with?”
“No, you may not ask. You are not supposed to be talking at all. But since you did ask, it is Jedi Binding Tape.”
“I… I’ve never heard of that before.”
“It is not technically in use any more.”
The padawan strains his wrists and ankles. “I beg to differ, Master.”
“You’ll beg when I tell you to beg, Padawan.”
“Sorry, Master.”
Master Jinn caresses a tape-swathed wrist. “This is what we used to use to temporarily immobilize a suspect, before the collapsible binders were developed. The binders were invented because it seems that the quartermaster had some difficulty keeping the tape in stock. Certain knights were absconding with rolls of the tape and for their… personal use. And with good reason. It’s much more comfortable than the temporary binders, don’t you think, Obi-Wan?”
Obi-Wan’s cock trembles. “I wouldn’t know, Master. I’ve never had the binders used on me.” He regrets saying that immediately. “But I don’t think I need a demonstration. I totally believe you.”
“Good.” The master sits back on his chair and picks up his tea cup. Now, where was he? Ah, yes, the sixteenth Hollegger of the Fartook. Fascinating culture. The head priest is replaced whenever there is an eclipse of the second moon… He concentrates fully on the data before him. He cannot afford to look too closely at the bound padawan.
The padawan lies perfectly still and listens to the quiet hum from the air exchange system and the intermittent sips of hot tea.
“Master, this isn’t quite what I had in mind when I asked you to tie me to the bed.”
The master looks up. “Do I need to gag you as well?”
“No, Master.”
There will be no sex.
The master refuses to be associated with some nameless, random stranger who tied his padawan to a bed and mistreated him in a negotiated scene at his padawan’s request. The very thought of that stranger’s hands on his padawan’s body makes him burn with an illogical but tangible jealousy. He will do the masterly thing and make his padawan never want to be tied to a bed again.
The problem, when Qui-Gon looks over, is that he can see quite clearly that his naughty padawan gets off on being ignored almost as much as he gets off on just about anything else.
“Is there no way I can make you forget this tying you to the bed nonsense?” the master asks.
The padawan shakes his head as much as the tight frame of his arms will allow.
He wants sex. Of course he wants sex. He always wants sex. He’s a voracious, impudent and thoroughly fuckable young man. But there will be no sex. Not like this.
“Obi-Wan, I will not be compared to your… your former master.”
“He was not my master, Master. He was nothing.”
“Yet you insist on doing with me what you did with him. Surely you must wish to recreate what you had with him.”
“Is that it? You think I’ll compare you to him? I’m not even thinking about him. I will not think of him.”
“You admit you thought of me when he tied you up.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
The padawan tightens every muscle he can and wriggles about two centimetres. It makes his naked skin tighten over his strained muscles. It makes the sweat on his chest glisten. It makes the master’s tongue yearn for the taste of that sweat, and his skin yearn for the feel of those muscles, and his cock…
“Because you are Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master!” Obi-Wan cries out. “And you are the only master I ever wish to serve. Please, Master, if you truly wish me never to think of him again, then fuck the memory of him right out of my mind forever!”
There are advantages to being a pushy bottom.
One of them is having the pleasure of your master on top of you, fucking you until you are certain that you have never, ever been tied to a bed before in your entire life.
But the master is sure that the pleasure of fucking that memory out of his padawan’s mind is greater still.
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