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Title: Jedi Spanking
Author: heartofslash
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairing: Master Qui-Gon Jinn/Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi
Rating: SEXXX
Warning: Well, spanking. Like you need to be warned after a title like that. Rimming. But that goes without saying.
Disclaimer: Did George Lucas intend this? Highly unlikely. But my characterizations are far more 3-dimensional than his, so there.
Summary: We've had boots, braids, belt, sash, robes, comlink, grab bars… time for some skin-on-skin, I'd say.
Jedi Spanking
The padawan lies completely still across the master's lap, completely naked, awaiting his punishment with a stoicism worthy of a full Jedi knight.
Punishments are to be taken very seriously.
"What did she call this?" Master Jinn muses.
Padawan Kenobi knows better than to answer.
The master's hugs hand spreads his fingers and most of the padawan's left cheek is covered. Covered, yet still, in spite of the inordinate (and arousing) largeness of the hand, the padawan looks quite voluptuous, in a slutty sort of way, even though the master has not even struck it once.
This fascinates the master.
Whether it is the voluptuousness or the sluttiness that fascinates him more will be the subject of much meditation. Later.
He lifts his palm from the smooth, round buttock so that he can trail his fingers over the pale skin, following the contours, outlining the form, tracing the shape that lies, really, at the heart of this punishment. The uncanny roundness of it. The bounteousness. The firmness. The fucking shape.
"Bubble butt," Master Qui-Gon Jinn smirks.
Padawan Kenobi blushes so hard it hurts.
"The things padawans say when they think there are no masters around to hear them," the master murmurs with a small sigh. He rubs his whole hand in a circle that encompasses that left cheek, already considerably warmer than the right, and that's only from this light touching. It's a cheek that knows what is to come.
The padawan knows better than to respond physically in any more than involuntary ways. He is able to limit this to the rush of blood to his cock, a few drops of sweat on his upper lip, and the faintest whimper.
The master is impressed. He decides that his padawan needs a more difficult challenge. When he slides his hand over to the right cheek, he quite deliberately lets his thumb drop between the luscious cheeks. The heat of that cleft is inviting. He turns his hand so his thumb presses down to the even warmer spot below, dark and tight, tense little ridges that twitch at his touch, an uncontrollable, involuntary movement that calls for no discipline.
The master could order the padawan to relax that part of himself. Obi-Wan could do it, if he really tried.
The master does not give the order.
He is enjoying the twitching too much.
But he must pull himself back from the enjoyment and practice detachment.
The master raises his hand. The air is cold and shapeless under it.
The master brings his hand down, swiftly and with purpose. The right butt cheek is warm and very shapely beneath it.
"How?" he asks, before raising his hand again.
The padawan still knows better than to answer. Not yet.
The hand is lowered. Raised and lowered. Smacking loudly. Left. Right. Left, right. Smarting. Burning. The cheeks being spanked glow as red as the blushing cheeks of the padawan's face. Still the blows rain down. Still the padawan is still as can be, though not quite as silent. Tiny whimpers, a gasp, a full-throated moan. Still he does not move, although there is movement of his flesh as it springs back from each blow. Refusing to give in.
It is breathtaking.
The master's breath is taken from him by the sight of that reddened flash. And by the grace with which his padawan receives his punishment.
His padawan.
And that brings him back to the reason for the punishment.
His hand is heavy and hot. Those two round, hot cheeks glow up at him, bright pink. Bubble butt.
"How in the Sith Hell did Padawan Woo know what your bare butt looks like?" Qui-Gon Jinn demanded. "I make sure you wear your cloak at all possible times. I pay very close attention to the length of your tunics and the looseness of your trousers." It was true. That the oversizedness of Padawan Kenobi's attire was a sensible precaution against sudden growth spurts was becoming a more difficult pretense to preserve, now that he was fully of age, but it was nonetheless strictly maintained.
"You are never allowed to disrobe for anyone but me, and the healers. You are barely ever alone with anyone but myself. The shower rooms are gender-segregated, and she is not one of you former conquests."
The master has done his research. He has coaxed, commanded or forced every detail of his padawan's brief sex life from him, the life Obi-Wan had before he offered himself to his master so generously - and Master Jinn had informed him in no uncertain terms of the degree of commitment that would entail, so it was not as if the padawan had entered into this arrangement innocently. Master Jinn has heard it all from his padawan's own lips. Padawan Kenobi's own, exquisite, talented, mobile lips. He knows every sordid detail of his padawan's erotic adventures, both the historic and the fantasized…
HIS padawan.
And Padawan Woo has never been featured, never even been mentioned.
The master lets another dozen spanks erupt before the sight of the swollen, enflamed cheeks makes his cock so hard he can no longer withstand it.
He could withstand it. He is a Jedi master. He can withstand practically anything.
But nothing has ever come so close to breaking him as his padawan's bubble butt.
The master pushes the padawan onto the floor, onto his knees. The padawan gratefully opens his mouth and sucks the master's entire cock inside. Such a large mouthful, but Padawan Kenobi persists and finally his nose nuzzles wiry hairs and his hot, blushing cheeks warm the tops of Master Jinn's inner thighs.
The master closes his eyes, musters the Force, and makes himself come immediately. If he prolongs this, he'll be likely to say something that could forever undermine his authority as master in this relationship.
All that spanking did not make Obi-wan Kenobi shed a tear, but the force of the ejaculation makes his eyes water. That, and the brush of his brutally erect cock against one of the buckles of his master's boot.
The padawan is lifted across his master's lap again, but this time his burning ass is only caressed, gently stroked by a force-cooled hand.
"Well?" Master Jinn asks, a little breathless.
To his simultaneous mortification and gratification, the padawan lets out a quiet sob.
"I don't know, Master. She must have seen me in swimming class yesterday. Bant told me some of the girls hid in the gallery while we were practicing our life-saving. I always try to keep the padawans in the class from seeing me, master. I know you don't like anyone to see my ass. But you know how underclothes cling when they are wet - I can't help that! I should have sensed the girls in the gallery and adjusted my posture. I was concentrating on the lessons. I didn't even know they were there. I'm sorry master."
The master considers this new information.
Perfectly innocent. Admirable, even, to concentrate on his lessons. If he'd sensed the presence of the intruders it would have meant Obi-Wan had been looking for intruders where none were expected - in fact, where it should have been impossible for any to be, because the training pool is a secure facility, or so it should be. Master Jinn would have to berate the Swim Master about the lapse in security.
The fact remained that Kenobi, not warned of any danger, had not sensed the relatively benign presence of the girls, because he was not seeking their attention.
Hence, an unjustified punishment.
That made the spanking a very un-Jedi thing to have done.
And it had already been quite un-Jedi-like enough, based as it had been on Master Jinn's attachment to and possessiveness of his padawan, and his padawan's lovely, round, firm, shapely bubble butt.
Unless it had not, in fact, been a punishment….
Oh, the mutability of motivation.
The master's cheeks burn hot as soon as they make contact with his padawan's thoroughly spanked skin.
The padawan sobs with relief. It was not a punishment after all. The spanking had not been meant to punish but to enhance the moment.
The padawan lives in the moment.
And when the master's tongue touches him where he most yearns to be touched, he silently vows to send Padawan Woo a dozen red roses to thank her for her indiscreet and ill-timed comment.
And he wonders what would happen if she were to ever make a public comment about the size or shape of his cock…
Then Padawan Kenobi's mind goes blank because his master's tongue is no longer touching him. It is penetrating him.
The master licks diligently, and fucks with his tongue until he feels not a trace of guilt.
Then he remembers that he promised to buy a gift for Master Yoda's birthday, and that's tomorrow, and he's been too preoccupied with his jealousy since overhearing Padawan Woo's remark to buy it. It makes him feel guilty that he cares more about his padawan than his old master. So he licks some more.
Then he thinks back to that time he teased young Mace Windu about his hairline. Yes, he definitely feels a little guilty about that. He resumes licking until he forgets all about it.
Then he remembers one time when he was a young padawan, and he took an extra dessert when no one was looking... he knows he's grasping at straws, but he doesn't want to stop. Ever.
That's the problem with being a Jedi master - you're supposed to be so good you don't feel guilty about anything.
Oh, there are mistakes he's made on missions, but he wants to keep his work life and his sex life separate.
"Master!" Obi-Wan cries out, and writhes.
But not too separate...
End
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