Phantom Menace


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HST 2: Tactile Stimulation: Preparation


Title: HST 2: Tactile Stimulation: Preparation

Fandom: Phantom Menace

Author's email:

Author's URL:

Category: Slash

Pairing: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi

Archive: Ask first

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: No spew warnings for this installment either. Well, maybe.

Beta: Thank you to kaly for once again playing spot the missing comma and the awkward sentence.

AN: This bunny was given to me by Mac, Emu, and Wolfe. Now all of you will be made to suffer as a result of their madness.

Qui-Gon's entry into their quarters was greeted with a wave of misery flowing to him from the direction of his Padawan's quarters. He approached the door. Obi-Wan, may I come in?

There was no response, but the door slid open. Obi-Wan was seated on the floor. Next to him was a large box bearing the distinctive Galactic Get-offs logo. Spread out in front of him were a large assortment of sexual aids.

Before he could ask, Obi-Wan answered. "Master J'lath gave them to me." He sensed Qui-Gon's unspoken "Oh really," and turned to glare at him. "They're for class. I'm supposed to discuss they're proper use."

Qui-Gon burst out laughing.

Obi-Wan did not. Qui-Gon forced himself to regain some measure of control. He should at least try and be sensitive to his apprentice's feelings. Stepping over a large, bright purple dildo, he sat on the edge of the bed, near Obi-Wan.

Looking around, he observed, "This is quite a collection."

Obi-Wan nodded glumly.

"Do you suppose J'lath has used them all?"

"Master!" was the shocked reply. Qui-Gon had been hoping for a laugh.

"Well if I had all of this hanging around my office I'd certainly be tempted."

Obi-Wan turned and stared at him.


"I thought I knew you. Reserved, controlled Master Jinn. But today you're…I don't know what you are. But you're not acting like my master. What is it about sex that seems to make people behave in the weirdest ways?"

"You think I'm behaving oddly?"

"You kissed me in front of my class!"

"You asked me to help."

"I did not. I told you to help or leave. That is not asking for help."

"So you would have preferred it if I left?"

Obi-Wan swallowed hard. As humiliating as the whole thing had been, it had gotten him a few kisses. "I didn't say that."

"So you would like my help."

Obi-Wan looked around him. He had no clue how to use half of these things, more than half. He had to have help. "Just no more classroom demonstrations."

Qui-Gon's eyes twinkled. "I'm not sure I can guarantee that, Padawan." Ignoring the look of consternation on Obi-Wan's face, he added, "Shall we have dinner first or would you like to begin right away?"

"Begin what?" Obi-Wan squeaked.

"Preparing for tomorrow's class. What did you think I meant?"

"Oh. Uhhh. Dinner first."

"Shall we eat here?"

"Yes." Gratitude flowed from Obi-Wan.

"Is there a reason you wish to avoid the Dining Hall, Obi-Wan?"

"No, Master. None. Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Qui-Gon controlled the smirk that was threatening to appear. "Come on. You can peel the trabivonis."

"I hate trabivonis."

"Yes, but I like them."

"How you can eat anything that shade of pink I'll never know."

‘Oh, yes you will, Padawan. Yes, you will,’ Qui-Gon thought as he headed toward the kitchen.

With the remains of dinner cleaned up, Obi-Wan went to retrieve the syllabus from his room. His master had barely contained his smirk throughout dinner. Qui-Gon's amusement was beginning to grate. Perhaps, he thought, it was time he turned the tables on his master. Returning to the common room he plopped down in his usual spot on the floor, not far from Qui-Gon's favorite chair and began reading.

Qui-Gon entered the room a few moments later and surprised his padawan by joining him on the floor, reclining on his side close to Obi-Wan. "So, Padawan where shall we begin?"

"Actually it's pretty straight forward. The syllabus lists all of the various types of touch I'm expected to cover. I can just take the info from here and pass it on to the students."

"And what if they ask for another demonstration?" Qui-Gon's eyes twinkled.

"Well," he said slowly, "I've been considering it and a demonstration might not be such a bad idea after all." He schooled his features so that no hint of mischief showed and inquired innocently, "Would you really be willing to help?"

"Certainly," Qui-Gon answered. "I'm your Master. It is my job to assist you."

Pompous ass, Obi-Wan thought. "Thank you, Master. I truly appreciate any aid you can give me." He could no longer keep the mischief from his voice. "I suppose we should decide now how much clothing you'll be removing."


"Master, Jedi robes cover pretty much everything. How can I properly demonstrate tactile stimulation if the only skin I can touch is on your face and hands?"

Qui-Gon fought back the strangling sounds that threatened to escape his throat. He was a Jedi Master. He would not allow himself to be bested by a mere apprentice, not even his own.

"Do you think my tunic will suffice?"

"Yes, Master. I am sure it will."

Obi-Wan smiled ingenuously. "And just think what this will do for your reputation among the padawans. You're already one of the most longed for masters, once word gets out that you're appearing partially dressed in the Humanoid Sexual Techniques class, I expect Master J'lath will be inundated with requests from students eager to take it."

The smile became a smirk. "I'm sure the other masters will be pleased as well. To see you taking such an interest in the education of the mid-level students." Obi-Wan's laughter was now barely contained.

Qui-Gon shot him a deadly look. Then he upped the ante. Sitting up he reached behind him and pulled off his tunic. "If you're going to use me as an instructional aid, I insist that you practice first."

Obi-Wan's eyes widened slightly, but he kept his voice controlled. "That's a reasonable request."

He scooted closer to his master. "The first touch listed in the syllabus is feathery touch. It should be barely there." Obi-Wan reached a hand up to his master's shoulder, hoping Qui-Gon would not notice the trembling he couldn't control. He slowly let the pads of his fingertips slide down Qui-Gon's front, over hard muscle.

Is it light enough?


"Next is light touch. Firmer than feathery." He traced the same path again, with a slightly firmer touch. As he did so he fought to control his reaction to the contact. It was thrilling to be able to touch Qui-Gon in this way. He had touched him countless times, but usually from necessity, rarely for pleasure, and never like this.

"Gentle touch, " he whispered, "can be either the entire hand or just the fingers." He flattened his hand against his master's chest and slid it across his torso. There was no mistaking the sharp intake of breath as his fingers brushed a nipple.

"Exploratory." He brought his other hand to Qui-Gon's back and let them both roam over his master. The tension between them was now almost palpable.

"The rest of it just discusses some places to touch. I don't think we should demonstrate that."

"No, probably not."

"Some of the items from Master J'lath's box are for this class. Shall I demonstrate them?"

"Probably. We wouldn't want to deprive your students of information they might need."

Obi-Wan stood and went to retrieve the items described.

Returning, he settled back in next to his master. He held up a large feather. "Do you suppose this really feels good?"

"Only one way to find out."

"So there is." Obi-Wan's eyes twinkled as he ran the feather along the side of his master's neck, across his shoulder, and down his side. When Qui-Gon twitched slightly, he ran it back and forth over the spot, eliciting giggles.

Qui-Gon twisted away from the feather, breaking the contact.

"I hope you show more control tomorrow, Master. Because, well, you just don't seem very dignified when you giggle."

Qui-Gon gave him a hard look. "The feather simply isn't very erotic, Padawan."

"Are you sure? I hardly think Master J'lath would include it in the syllabus if it isn't enjoyable. Perhaps we didn't try the right places?" "Enough with the feather."

"Very well, Master."

He lifted up a padded glove and began pulling it on. One side was furry, the other made of leather.

"What is that for?"

"Touching, I believe." A vibrating noise began to come from the glove. "Ready?"

Qui-Gon's eyes were a little wider than usual, but he nodded.

Obi-Wan didn't even try to hide his grin as he moved behind his master and pressed the leather side of his glove to the back of Qui-Gon's shoulder.

He leaned forward and asked softly, his voice near his master's ear, "Is it pleasurable Master?"

"Ummm, it's actually rather relaxing."

"Relaxing? Is relaxation a good thing during sex?"

"In the right circumstances." Qui-Gon turned and gave his padawan a speculative look. "You've never encountered the right circumstances?"

Obi-Wan flushed. "Uhh, no. I guess not."

"Don't worry, Padawan. It is a situation which can be remedied."

Obi-Wan let that pass and moved the glove to the other shoulder. Qui-Gon closed his eyes, relaxing further.

After a few moments, Obi-Wan asked quietly, "Shall we try the furry side?"

"Why not?"

This time Obi-Wan moved the glove slowly across his master's back and shoulders. "Is this side pleasurable?"

"Actually, it's a little ticklish."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Are you sure you want the whole Temple knowing how ticklish you are Master? The next time you disagree with Master Windu he might decide to use a feather on you."

"Just how do you think the whole Temple will find out, Padawan?" There was a slight edge to his voice.

"Are you kidding? Do you know how quickly gossip travels among the padawans? Everyone knew about your little kissing demonstration before lunch."

"Everyone? I'm sure not everyone knew."

"I'd bet even Master Yoda knew."

"I hardly think that Master Yoda gossips with the padawans."

"He does with me."

Qui-Gon turned to stare at him and Obi-Wan burst out laughing.

"I didn't tell him. I swear," he sputtered between the deep breaths he was he was taking in a futile attempt to bring his laughter under control. Qui-Gon looked even more aghast. "I don't know how he found out."

Obi-Wan finally succeeded in controlling his laughter, almost succeeded in schooling his features into a serious expression. "But he did ask me if you were any good at it." Laughter again overcame him.

When Obi-Wan at last stopped and wiped the tears from his eyes, Qui-Gon spoke, "What did you tell him?"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. "Yes, I want to know."

Obi-Wan smirked. "I told him that there was nothing my Master did not excel at."

Qui-Gon nodded. "A wise response, my Padawan."

"I'm not sure he believed me. I think you might have to kiss him if you truly want to convince him."

"I'll consider it." His stern expression softened. "Perhaps we should return to our preparations. It is getting late."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan was almost shaking with contained laughter. He ran through a couple of quick focusing techniques to bring himself back under control.

He held up his gloved hand. "More?"

"No. What else is on the list?"

Obi-Wan pulled off the glove and reached for a small bottle. "Just this. The label says it's edible. I wasn't really sure if it belonged to this section or the next one."

"Both, probably." Qui-Gon sighed and reached for the bottle. Obi-Wan handed it over. "It looks sticky. But I suppose I could always lick it off."

Qui-Gon gave him an appraising look. "You could at that." Then he dove for his apprentice and pinned him to the floor. Pulling open Obi-Wan's tunic he added, "Then again so could I."

Obi-Wan squirmed, trying to escape. "You can't hold my arms and open the bottle at the same time." As soon as he said it, Obi-Wan realized his mistake.

"Watch me." The bottle rose in the air and the top turned slowly. Then the top came free and was set down on the floor. The now open bottle was turned so that some of the liquid dripped slowly onto Obi-Wan's exposed chest.

Obi-Wan inhaled sharply. "Master."

"Yes, Obi-Wan."

Qui-Gon released Obi-Wan's wrists, and began to rub the liquid across his padawan's skin.


Qui-Gon grinned at him, looking very pleased with himself. Of course, he had been infernally pleased with himself all day in Obi-Wan's view. The more uncomfortable he was, the happier Qui-Gon seemed to be. Obi-Wan knew he should be annoyed. He wanted to be annoyed, but his master's hands felt too damn good.

"Is it pleasurable, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon already knew the answer.


"Since we're only preparing for the touch class, I don't think I should lick it off. Do you?"

"I suppose not." Obi-Wan managed, just barely, to contain a disappointed sigh.

Qui-Gon released him, moving to sit on the floor next to his sticky padawan. "Is that everything?"

Obi-Wan touched a finger to the sticky liquid covering his front. Then he raised the finger to his mouth. "Interesting flavor. But I don't think it really qualifies as chocolate."

Qui-Gon laughed. "Padawan, if you’re done tasting? I asked if we've covered everything."

"I think so, Master. But you could always take a second look while I grab a quick shower."

"Whatever you wish, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan left and a smirking Qui-Gon went to wash his hands.

Returning Qui-Gon picked up the syllabus. He still couldn't believe that this stuff was actually being taught. In my day we had to figure it all out for ourselves. He tried to recall just whose idea this class had been, decided that it must have been Mace. Mace always was insecure about his technique. Skimming down the list he caught sight of a method of touching they'd missed. The corners of his mouth curled up.

Soon after Obi-Wan entered, wrapped in a plain robe.

Qui-Gon rose to meet him. "It occurred to me that there is a type of kiss which was missing from your list today."

"Uh, Really, Master? What is it?"

"Good night." And with that Qui-Gon leaned over and kissed him. "Until tomorrow," he whispered, then left.

Running through the categorizations he had learned earlier that day, Obi-Wan decided that it had been a caress kiss. No tongue, but most definite interest. Smiling to himself Obi-Wan gathered up the syllabus and the various educational aids and retired to his own room.