Jailbait

by KatBear (katbear@cox.net)

Archive: MA, QJEB, BIC. Any others please ask.
Category: angst, non-con, h/c, first time (sort of)
Rating: NC17
Pairing: O/other, Q/O
Feedback: Appreciated, especially constructive criticism. Grammar, plotline, characters, continuity or whatever - if you think something could be improved please let me know.
Thanks to the beta readers - for help with comments and encouragement, Thalia for the first draft, Tem-Ve and Gloriana for plowing through the monster final draft, and especially Emu for putting up with so many iterations of the story and letting me know honestly when things sucked (which is really only fair since it was her little bunny that grew up into this ravening beast). All mistakes are definitely my own since I can't resist tweaking.
Summary: A mission goes wrong, Obi-Wan ends up in prison and gets a new cellmate. Serious issues ensue.
Warnings: If you don't like male-male relationships you are in the wrong place. Language, a fair bit of Obi-abuse and noncon sex.
Spoilers: None, pre-TPM.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to George Lucas, I'm just playing with them. No profit is intended or made.

~ ~ Character internal thoughts
* * emphasis

Obi-Wan Kenobi knelt in the square of midday sunlight, hands resting on his thighs. Eyes closed, he breathed slowly, mind gradually clearing. He finally sank into a light meditation, his first in many days, remaining motionless as the patch of light shifted position.

A snort of derisive laughter broke his concentration. "Wake up, prettyboy," sneered the guard. "Time for lunch."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes in time to catch the chunk of bread and block of cheese that were tossed through the bars, metal collars around his neck jangling harshly as he leaned forward.

"Eat hearty, Jedi boy," the guard continued. "I hear they're bringing you a new mate today. Maybe this'll be the one to keep your perverted little ass in line." He laughed and headed down the corridor with a cart of food.

Sighing heavily, the padawan looked at the rough meal with a distinct lack of enthusiasm, but the rumble from his stomach reminded him that he had better eat while he had the rare opportunity to do so undisturbed. Obi-Wan had long since learned to ignore the gibes about Jedi and infant sacrifices, child sex, dark magical practices and other distorted lies, but it didn't make life very pleasant when everyone considered him to be such a nasty piece of slime. He glanced over at the makeshift calendar on the wall and sighed again.

~ Thirty-two days I've been in here, thirty-six days since the mission fell apart, and forty-three since I last saw my Master. ~ He moved over to the small sink set into the wall and pressed the button to release water into the plastic cup. He allowed himself a small stab of self-pity. ~ I wonder if he even knows that I'm still alive. ~ He sat on the bunk to eat, his thoughts glum.

Junmek was an unsavory little Outer Rim planet whose inhabitants derived most of their income from smuggling, farming, mining, and odds and ends of legal trade. The natives were humanoid, tending toward middle height, fair skin and grayish eyes, although the northern mountains and plains were dominated by taller, fierce hunting clans. Except for the clans, most Junmekans had little use for the Republic or Jedi, and normally the Jedi would have had little use for a place like Junmek. Several clandestine visits, however, had confirmed that the Junmekans tended to produce an abnormally high proportion of Force sensitives; because of this, for over two centuries the Jedi had periodically sent covert missions to look for suitable young Temple candidates among the orphanages and the poor. Qui-Gon and his apprentice had been joined by Knights Dra'vr and Ghuthiin on just such a mission.

After arriving on Junmek, the four Jedi had hidden their ship in the highlands, then split into two teams for the search. Knight Ghuthiin and Padawan Kenobi most closely resembled the lowlanders so they headed south to the cities while Qui-Gon and the tall, gangly Knight Dra'vr went north to seek the roving clans. The mission had initially gone well, each team finding three youngsters. As senior Jedi, Qui-Gon had called both teams to return, but Knight Ghuthiin had felt a particularly strong Force call. The junior knight was normally rather fussy and pedantic, but his obvious sincerity in this case had persuaded Obi-Wan against his better judgement to agree to stay an extra day. They had found a baby with incredible midichlorian readings in a brothel and paid off the owner, but within an hour were running desperately from two squads of local peacekeepers. The knight took the infant while Obi-Wan guarded his rear. The next thing the young Jedi remembered was waking up in a cell with a tremendous headache, wearing a crude but effective Force dampening collar. There had been a short trial where the brothel owner had testified that the Jedi had stolen the baby, then the padawan had found himself shipped off to this distant prison.

One of the few saving graces of the prison guard force was that they seemed to have a definite distaste for physical contact with male prisoners, considering them too low a lifeform to touch and preferring to rely on pain-inflicting control collars and neuron whips. The guards did, however, seem to derive great entertainment value from the prisoners' `interactions'. Obi-Wan remembered with disgust the initial strip and cavity search performed by a prisoner trustee; a guard watched with a leer as the trustee took several liberties with his manacled body stretched naked over the steel railing.

After inprocessing, Obi-Wan was given two sets of rough spun tunics, pants and smallclothes, a pair of soft shoes, and a small set of toiletries; a control collar was welded around his neck. The apprentice was then placed in an austere two-person end cell in the high security section, under constant surveillance from cameras and monitors. He was grateful for the barred window, which he could pull himself up to look out of, but not pleased with the cold breeze that the opening allowed to enter at night. The window did have a remotely controlled shutter, but as far as he could tell the guards only seemed to close it when it rained heavily. Since most of the high security prisoners were not on work details, his interaction with other inmates was limited to the daily communal meal, the every other day common exercise yard and the occasional forced showers where small groups of prisoners were stripped, chained together and taken to the cleaning room for haircuts and a hosing off.

The padawan's biggest problem had been the series of cellmates forced upon him. The young man had stayed celibate for years, hoping to get his long-desired Master to become his first lover upon his approaching twenty-first birthday, so he had no intention of becoming a fuck toy for another prisoner. Even without his Force abilities, Obi-Wan had a wide repertoire of unarmed combat skills, and so far he had successfully fought off every attempt to take him. There had been a few close calls; a battle scarred veteran named Diwan and a tough little bald scrapper had given the apprentice quite a fight. The constant vigilance in cell and exercise yard was wearing heavily, however; after his last cellmate was taken away with a broken arm, the previous night had been his first uninterrupted sleep in almost two tendays. The padawan was tired and underweight, and every passing day in the dull gray of his Forceless existence took an emotional toll as the possibility of rescue seemed to diminish.

Finishing the last of the tough bread, Obi-Wan's attention was caught by a commotion from somewhere down the long corridor. He moved to the front of the cell, which was an open lattice of steel bars, but a guard's arrival quickly sent him to the back wall as far as possible from the door. It had only taken one shot of pain from the control collar to learn that lesson his first day. He watched warily as the door was unlocked and opened.

A gasp of despair escaped his lips involuntarily at the sight of the new prisoner's deep blue eyes glaring fiercely at the four guards escorting him.

~ Master! ~ He felt his knees grow weak as he watched the guard by the door motion the prisoner into the cell. Obi-Wan quickly realized his error, though, and pressed himself against the rough wall to wait.

The tall prisoner growled and rattled his leg and arm chains. The head guard held up his control rod and pressed a button, sending the prisoner to his knees with a howl of pain. After the button was released, the four guards hauled the new inmate back to his feet, his head drooping. Holding the control rod in clear view, the head guard again waved the prisoner in. Still glaring, but now with a careful eye on the guard, the man shuffled inside, then stood quietly as the chains were removed and the door locked.

The head guard gestured at Obi-Wan. "Ben, Jedi baby thief." He then waved at the stranger. "Maogg, White Panther clan, spy and murderer." Addressing Maogg, the guard held up his control rod. "Ya understand what this does?"

"Yes."

The guard held up his neuron whip. "Ya understand what this does?"

"Yes."

"I don't care what the two of ya do in your cell as long as ya don't kill each other. Outside the cell, *anywhere* outside the cell, do what you're told and don't cause no trouble or ya get your sorry ass zapped. The more times ya cause trouble, the higher the setting and the harder ya get zapped. Got that?"

A brief hesitation, then another single grunted "Yes."

"Good." The guard leaned closer to the bars. "Hey, Ben, among the clans, if ya ain't a first son, they only got two kinds of young adult males. You're either an owner, or you're owned. Mostly, they're owned." He smiled and jerked his head at the clansmen. "And them tattoos on his arm says he done killed four people already. At least try to put up a good show for the boys in the monitor room." He waved at the camera as the guards laughed. Finally they headed back down the hall, loudly placing bets on how long the Jedi would last. Obi-Wan's stomach churned acidly as he licked dry lips.

The new prisoner had backed against the wall across from the window and was slowly surveying the bare cell. There wasn't much to see: a bunk bolted to each wall, each with a thin mattress, two sheets, a single blanket and support bars at the head and foot; a steel sink set into the wall and two plastic cups; a steel mirror; a steel toilet; a small shelf at the head of each bunk for clothes and personal items.

Obi-Wan used the time to get a closer look at his new cellmate and quickly realized why he had initially mistaken the stranger for his Master. The newcomer was the same size as Qui-Gon, which made him average for a clansman, with the same large hands, blue eyes and even a broken nose. The dark brown hair was tied back in a single tail but the beard was thicker and darker brown than Qui-Gon's. There was a fearsome scar on the left cheek, a chipped upper front tooth and several dark blue and red tattoos on the right arm. Although he clutched a set of prison clothes in one hand, the guards had let him keep at least some of his native clothes: soft leather boots, leather breeches and a sleeveless tunic tightly woven with a recurring zigzag pattern. The whole outfit was in dark earth tones, and Obi-Wan caught a whiff of dirt, body odor and a faintly herbal overtone as the man moved closer to him.

The padawan dropped into a wary crouch when Maogg dropped his prison issue on his bunk and headed cautiously across the cell. For the moment, though, the clansman ignored his companion as he stepped up on Obi-Wan's bunk to grasp the window bars and look out. Obi-Wan knew what the newcomer would see: a piece of the exercise yard a story below them, some storage buildings, an inner electrified wire fence, the outer stone wall, several guard towers, and miles and miles of desolate plains and scrub forests between here and the nearest foothills. While Maogg was checking out the sights, Obi-Wan took advantage of the opportunity to dash to the front of the cell where there was more room to maneuver.

Several minutes passed in silence while the clansman finished his survey of the outer world. Obi-Wan tried to stay loose by bouncing lightly on his toes, hands at his sides, eyes fixed on his opponent, but he could feel the churning increase in his stomach the longer he had to wait. Even without his Force senses, he knew this was going to be a difficult situation.

Maogg finally turned away from the window, dropped lightly to the floor and turned his attention to the Jedi. He gave the young man the same slow methodical survey he had used for the cell and the outside view. The casual stance exuded confidence, and there was a predatory gleam in the blue eyes. He folded his arms, sat down on the bunk and smiled.

~ What the -? ~ Obi-Wan blinked, backed against the bars and stared at the feral smile. ~ What in the six hells is he doing? Everybody else they put in here always attacked right away. ~ He considered his options and decided they were very limited. The apprentice now realized he had made a tactical error by allowing the clansman to hold the position in the center of the cell; he had the bunks, the water and the toilet under his control. It would be almost six hours until the guards rousted everyone out for the evening communal meal. The few things he could remember from the mission briefing were not encouraging or particularly useful; although the clans generally did not share the lowlander prejudice against Jedi, they were fierce and cunning warriors, great hunters, highly possessive and territorial, and had a religion based on sun and moon worship. The apprentice was even more nonplussed when Maogg simply closed his eyes and relaxed.

For over an hour the standoff continued. Obi-Wan slowly paced back and forth across the front of the cell, trying to stay loose. He was pretty certain that the clansman was tracking his exact position through sound and perhaps even smell, though Maogg's eyes stayed closed. The apprentice could feel trickles of sweat starting to gather on his back and forehead and tried to pretend he was back at the Temple undergoing one of his master's more fiendish exercises. His mouth felt dry and cottony, almost surely a psychological effect just from knowing he was potentially denied access to water. The excitement from the surge of adrenaline at the initial encounter wore off all too quickly, leaving him acutely aware of just how worn down he had become and making it more and more difficult to concentrate.

The explosion came suddenly, a blur of dark colors as Obi-Wan reached the end of his circuit and started to turn. The impact drove the smaller man into the wall but he managed to get in a punishing elbow to the gut and slide away. After the first flurry of blows the two men stood apart, appraising their respective situations. The clansman stood lightly balanced, a thoughtful respect evident for the unexpectedly swift reflexes of his young foe. Obi-Wan just dug in, grimly determined to hold out as long as possible. He could feel the sweat stinging his eyes, his nose full of the big man's earthy smell.

The next thirty minutes saw the fight flow all around the cell. The clansman used his size, strength and considerable arsenal of fighting skills to patiently pursue and attack, but seemed unwilling to inflict severe or permanent damage. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, had no such inhibitions and was desperate. He used every bit of acrobatic skill and every dirty trick he knew to escape time and time again, but he just couldn't land any debilitating blows against his elusive opponent. They watched and circled, swift blows drawing blood and grunts, a backhand to the apprentice's face swelling his eye, a knee to clansman's back snapping him into the bars, a booted foot sliding off a retreating knee, fists and fingernails gouging mercilessly. The end was almost inevitable, however, as the tiring and frustrated young Jedi finally missed a counterblow and went crashing to the floor unconscious.

Drifting back from darkness, Obi-Wan found himself lying naked on his bunk, the light breeze from the window causing a chill as it dried his sweat. The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth, his ears rang slightly and he felt sore from head to toe. His hands were tied securely to the bunk's head support bar with his own prison pants. The clansman stood next to the bunk with his hands on his hips, smiling in amusement as Obi-Wan instinctively clamped his legs together. The apprentice's gut spasmed in despair as he began to contemplate his likely fate.

Maogg's expression changed to a professional detachment as he knelt beside the bunk. With a wet cloth he cleaned the blood and sweat from Obi-Wan's face and chest. He then began a systematic inspection of his prize. Riffling through the short hair, he found the tender spots that made the young man wince and seemed to catalog the old and new bruises on face, shoulders and chest. He carefully inspected the swelling under the left eye, then held the Jedi's nose until he was forced to open his mouth so the clansman could inspect his mouth and teeth. A puzzled expression on his face, Maogg ran his hands over the Force dampener several times before checking the fit of the control collar. He grinned as he stroked the long soft padawan braid, wrapping it experimentally around his fist and tugging a few times. The clansman frowned as he next ran a hand over Obi-Wan's midsection, taking note of the tight skin over ribs and pulled in gut.

Obi-Wan did his best to lie in passive silence as the inspection continued, peripherally aware not only of the camera watching them but the two guards who had drifted into view. He kept his face turned away; at such close quarters Maogg's body odor warred strongly with his herbal scent. The close-up view of the big hands revealed warrior calluses and dirty, broken fingernails. The apprentice gasped involuntarily when Maogg flicked his nipples, both hardening quickly into dark nubs. His resentment grew at being inspected like an animal at the market, and he worked to maintain his composure as the big man began a quick inspection of his joints, moving quickly from hands, wrists, elbows, shoulders, hips, then straight on to knees, ankles and feet.

Moving back up, Maogg grabbed the young man's hip and turned him up on his side so he could squeeze each ass cheek. When he caressed the crack, Obi-Wan could take it no longer and tried to kick as hard as he could. His angle was awkward and the clansman easily intercepted the attempt from his position beside the bunk, twisting the young man onto his back, holding both ankles and forcing the struggling legs apart. His collars rang frantically as Obi-Wan continued to writhe and wriggle as hard as he could, spitting curses, but his efforts seemed to amuse rather than irritate his opponent.

Maogg let the struggle continue for a while, then reached up and grabbed the Jedi's testicles. He sharply squeezed and twisted until Obi-Wan screamed from the pain. Sagging in relief when the pain finally stopped, Obi-Wan let the clansmen spread his legs without further objection. The apprentice looked down through streaming eyes as he gasped for breath and saw that there were now three guards outside the cell, all with pleased grins. His face burned in humiliation as he realized what kind of picture he must present, legs now splayed widely, his genitals clearly displayed. When he moved to close his legs, a quick squeeze on his sore ball sac immediately dissuaded him. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth as he watched the tall clansman kneel on the end of the bunk. His skin felt clammy, bile slowly burning the back of his throat.

Ignoring the comments and laughter from their audience, Maogg proceeded with the same detachment with which he had conducted the rest of his inspection. He carefully checked the Jedi's genitals for damage, then slowly caressed the flaccid cock as he gently fondled the heavy balls, calluses catching on the soft skin. Obi-Wan's face turned an even brighter red as he felt his body begin to respond to the stimulation. His cock gradually filled and hardened until it was almost completely erect. He could hear the blood roaring in his ears, felt sweat trickling down his face. The hand that had been rolling his balls suddenly reached up and flicked and rolled his nipples again, causing his cock to jump and slap his belly. Maogg smiled, his blue eyes gleaming. The guards laughed and snickered.

~ Force, why does the bastard have to have Qui-Gon's eyes? ~ Obi-Wan closed his own eyes and turned his face away, trying not to react but failing miserably.

~ Remember, it's just your body, only your body, he can't touch you inside, only your body, only your body. ~

The apprentice automatically reached for the Force for strength, to release his feelings, but ran into a gray wall of nothingness, his fear and revulsion feeding back on itself.

~ Please let him stop, please. ~

A few minutes later he grunted in surprise when a hard finger was suddenly jammed into his anus. He tasted fresh blood as he bit his lip to keep from crying out. There was a sharp pain as a ragged fingernail cut into the tender tissue, then the probing finger found the apprentice's prostate gland and began rubbing.

~ Oh Force, somebody make him stop, please, somebody, anybody, please make him stop. ~

Obi-Wan moaned as his body responded to the stimulation. His hips thrust helplessly into the hand now fisting his cock as the blunt finger expertly stroked his prostate.

"No, please don't...aaahhhhhh...."

There was no more thought, only the urgent need pounding in his groin. Within a few short minutes his balls tightened and Obi-Wan came hard. A stream of hot semen splattered across his belly and chest. He watched dazedly as Maogg stood up, walked to the side of the bunk, then scooped up a finger of fresh semen, tasted it, slowly nodded. The clansman gave one last measured appraisal of the Jedi before stepping back.

Maogg pulled his tunic off over his head, then turned it inside out and placed it on his bunk. He carefully tore off two strips of cloth from the inner lining before putting it back on. Standing and facing the guards, he pointed to Obi-Wan and announced in a deep, firm voice, "Mine."

He then knelt next to the bunk and threaded one of the cloth strips around the two collars and tied it off so a long strip hung down onto the Jedi's chest. He took the other strip and wrapped it firmly around the base of Obi-Wan's cock and balls, pushing them up and making a visible reminder of his claim. Propping up the Jedi's knees as far apart as he could stretch them, he patted the sweaty forehead almost fondly. "Stay." Obi-Wan was too exhausted to protest the command or the obscene display of his bound genitals.

Maogg stood up and faced the guards. He tapped Obi-Wan's belly, announcing "Boy needs food."

"Tough shit," said the senior guard, a man Obi-Wan recognized as the afternoon shift leader. "Ya claimed him, he's yer problem."

After a moment of silence, Maogg nodded. "Mine," he said again, then lay down on the other bunk and closed his eyes.

"Hey," protested one of the guards. "Is that it? Ain't he gonna fuck the little pervert?"

"Relax," replied the senior guard. "I gotta cousin up north in the border guards. He says those clan bastards like to take their time properly breaking in a new pet. Somethin' about ya gotta wait until the right time of the moon for their first real fuck." He banged on the bar with his stick. "Hey, prettyboy, ya hear that? Your sorry ass is in for a real long ride after wildboy gets done fuckin with your head, but he's gotta have the right time of month to fuck his bitch for the first time." Not getting a rise from the unhappy Jedi, the guards laughed again and headed down the corridor, talking loudly about the `wildboy's Jedi bitch'.

The next few hours were some of the worst of Obi-Wan's life. As he physically recovered from the forced ejaculation, his initial reaction was denial. He had known, of course, that such things happened, had sat through the briefings back at the Temple, had heard it, even seen it here in the prison, but that was something that happened to other people. Obi-Wan was a good person, strong, a Jedi apprentice, pure in his faith; even after the repeated attempts in his cell he had not truly believed that this could happen to him. Slowly the physical evidence forced him to face reality: the strings of semen drying on his upper body, the tight cloth that held his organ prisoner, cold sweat that belied the hot blood still racing within him, the pain of his battered body. If he closed his eyes, he could feel the rough hands on his skin, touching, taking, so different from those other hands he had dreamed of. The painful intrusion and humiliation of that first time were bad enough, but he knew that there was more, and worse, yet to come. Obi-Wan was caught between the agony of now and fear of the future, his feelings spinning round and round helplessly, starting to grind away at his faith. The unyielding bonds and cold chill of nakedness reminded him constantly that he had been beaten, and little doubts began to grow, pricking his self confidence. Had he really done everything he could have, could he have fought a little harder, a little better, a little faster? His own body had betrayed him; he was a Jedi, surely he should have been able to control his physical reactions instead of coming like a back alley hooker, shouldn't he? He could not feel the Force to seek answers, and the gray fog in his head only seemed to make the pain worse.

The emotional chaos churned bitterly, but finally Obi-Wan decided to see if he could at least do something about the physical pain of his degrading position. He waited until he was sure Maogg was asleep, then tried to ease his position and close his legs. Within seconds the jagged pain caused by the hand twisting his testicles had him screaming in agony again. After finally stopping, the hard blue eyes promised worse to come as the clansman rearranged the Jedi's legs even wider before going back to his bunk. Clearly this was not a good time to further test the clansman's reactions or temper, so Obi-Wan stayed there in humiliated misery, knees bent and legs spread wide, shoulders painfully stiffening, as every guard in the place seemed to make it a point to wander by the cell. They stopped, pointed, stared and made crude comments while Obi-Wan pretended to sleep, the passage of time finally helping to numb both emotional and physical pain. He was relieved when he finally heard the harsh bell that signaled ten minutes before the evening meal and hopefully a release from his bondage.

"Maogg," he called quietly. "It's almost time for food." There was no response so he tried again. "Hey, Maogg, if we're not standing at the door when the guards come we don't get to eat." Blue eyes looked over expectantly, as if waiting for the right response. Obi-Wan licked his swollen lips and swallowed his pride for the moment. "Please, Maogg, can I get up? I need to piss before the meal."

The clansman smoothly stood up. With a stern glance, he barked, "Stay," then slowly went over and took a long leak. The sound made Obi-Wan's own bladder call even more urgently but he wasn't going to ask again. Maogg finally turned around and untied Obi-Wan's hands. "Up." The Jedi heaved himself up, stiff from staying in one position too long, and staggered to the toilet. He had to wait a moment until the painful pins and needles in his arms subsided before he could continue. The clansman watched with an amused smile until Obi-Wan was finished and had turned around.

"You are mine," said Maogg quietly as he stepped up belly to belly with the Jedi, grabbing a handful of hair at the back of Obi-Wan's head to force his gaze upward. "You obey me. I take care of you. Understand?"

This was the longest speech yet from the tall northlander, and Obi-Wan wasn't entirely sure how to respond, so he just nodded.

"Obey me and you will leave this place alive with me. Defy me and you will stay here dead. Understand?"

Obi-Wan looked up into the deep blue eyes and saw only absolute calm and certainty. For a moment he felt that he was looking into his master's eyes and shivered, feeling very vulnerable in his nakedness. He nodded again.

Evidently that wasn't the right response. Maogg leaned down until he was nose to nose with the Jedi. "Do. You. Understand?" he growled.

"Yes, Maogg," whispered Obi-Wan, frightened by the intensity of that blue fire gaze.

The clansman released the Jedi's hair and backhanded him. Obi-Wan ended up sprawled across his bunk and looked up in bewilderment.

"You will call me Mazhten."

Obi-Wan bounced to his feet in a momentary surge of rebellion as he remembered that the term was the clan equivalent for master. Maogg stared back implacably, almost daring him to make a move. Deciding that for now his priority had to be survival, Obi-Wan again swallowed his pride and anger. "Yes, Mazhten," he almost whispered through clenched teeth.

"Good boy." Maogg pointed at the sink. "Wash. Dress. We get food."

"Yes, Mazhten." He used the small cloth to wash off the worst of the dried sweat and semen, then quickly dressed and joined the waiting clansman by the cell door.

Maogg reached over and pulled out the strip of cloth tied to Obi-Wan's collars so that it was clearly visible, patted the Jedi's shoulder affectionately, and turned back to the door to wait.

The evening meal was the only decent one of the day and most prisoners had learned to be on reasonably good behavior since the alternative was to stay locked in their cells on bread and water. At the second ringing of the bell, all of the doors on the corridor opened at once and all the prisoners quickly marched forward until they were facing the wall. At a barked command, everyone turned left and began slowly shuffling forward until there was an orderly queue at the double doors at the end of the corridor. Maogg and Obi-Wan were at the very end of the line. Inside the feeding facility the metal tables and benches were bolted down, so everyone moved forward until they were standing in front of a tray of food previously placed there by trustees. At another barked command from a guard on the overhead walkway, everyone sat down and began eating as much as they could stuff down in the ten minutes allowed before everyone had to stand up again.

Glancing at his tray as they waited for the command to sit, Obi-Wan saw that tonight's offering included hot soup, soft bread with some sort of spread, a small piece of what might be meat and a small piece of fruit. Within thirty seconds of sitting down, however, Obi-Wan was amazed to see that his tray suddenly held two pieces of bread, four pieces of meat and two fruits. Looking up, he saw Maogg snag a bowl of soup and another fruit from another prisoner. Most of the nearby prisoners looked stunned at how swiftly selected portions of their food had disappeared. The last surprised donor objected, however, and within seconds was screaming in pain, nursing a broken wrist. At the first scream their table was surrounded by guards, holding neuron whips, fingers poised on the triggers.

The shift leader stalked up, angry eyes looking for an excuse to let the whips loose. "Alright, what the fuck's goin' on here?"

Three prisoners pointed immediately at Maogg.

"Causin' trouble already, wildboy? Whatsa matter, ya didn't understand the rules?"

Maogg held both hands flat on the table and looked straight out, careful not to appear to challenge the shift leader's authority. "Boy is mine. He needs food. I get him food," he said quietly.

For a moment the shift leader looked puzzled, but when he looked at Obi-Wan's flaming cheeks and the strip of cloth hanging down from his collar, he broke out in laughter. "Well, I'll be fucked. I guess ya was serious about takin' care of your little Jedi bitch." He laughed again, shaking his head. "Alright, wildboy, I'll tell ya what. Since the rest of these sorry assholes obviously ain't fast enough or man enough to take care of their own food, ya can take what you're fast enough to grab and mean enough to hang on to. I catch ya overdoin' it or takin' someone's entire meal, it's a week on bread and water for both of ya. Fair enough, wildboy?"

"Fair," nodded Maogg.

"Any of the rest of ya sorry asswipes got any problems?" The shift leader glared around the room but was met only by sullen silence. "Alright then, ya got seven minutes left to eat."

Everyone went back to wolfing down their food. Obi-Wan sat there, feeling like everyone in the room was either staring at him or talking about him, until Maogg grabbed his braid and yanked.

"Eat!" glared his new keeper.

Obi-Wan started to reply but thought better of it and instead began stuffing food in his mouth as fast as he could. He was pretty certain he would dearly regret not finishing everything Maogg had provided for him.

Back in the cell Obi-Wan stood uncertainly by the door and watched as Maogg folded his prison issue clothing and put it neatly on his shelf. Pawing through the small toiletry kit, the clansman chose only the toothbrush and hair comb to put out, leaving everything else in its container. He then seated himself cross-legged on his bunk, back against the wall, and looked at Obi-Wan. "Here," he grunted, pointing to a position halfway between the two bunks.

Obi-Wan quickly moved to the designated spot and stood quietly.

"Tell me what you do here."

For the next several minutes the apprentice described the schedule: daily meals, exercise yard every other day, uniforms and sheets exchanged occasionally, showers also occasionally. When he had finished, Maogg sat for a while and seemed to think. Finally he gestured to Obi-Wan to come closer.

"Your duty is to serve," said Maogg flatly.

"Yes, Mazhten," replied Obi-Wan, remembering his lessons from Temple that that was usually a safe answer if you didn't know what else to say.

"In here, you will clean and perform whatever duties the rules of this place require."

"Yes, Mazhten."

"You will leave my marks on until I remove or change them," said Maogg, pointing to Obi-Wan's neck and crotch.

"Yes, Mazhten." The apprentice was glad the strip around his sore balls had not been tightened any further.

"It is the duty of all who serve the gods to become strong. You are weak, boy. I will fix that."

Obi-Wan hesitated. "I don't understand, Mazhten."

"It is our duty to be strong to better serve the gods," explained Maogg patiently. "You will eat the food I get for you. In the yard, we will exercise and we will run. When we can not go to the yard, we will exercise in here. I will show you. Each day I will check your progress."

"Yes, Mazhten." Obi-Wan's glance turned uncertainly to Maogg's crotch as he wondered what other `service' he would be required to perform.

Maogg watched his eyes, giving a small laugh. He rubbed his crotch lightly, "All service comes in the rightness of time, boy, as the gods require. You will come to my bed when you are ready to offer the proper service in return for my care."

"You mean I get to sleep in my own bunk?" asked the Jedi skeptically.

"Until you ask to come to mine," replied the clansman with an enigmatic smile. That seemed to end the conversation since he then closed his eyes and ignored Obi-Wan's presence.

Obi-Wan retreated to his own bunk to mull over the events of the day. He kept a surreptitious eye on Maogg, not really believing that the clansman didn't intend to fuck him raw that night.

Maogg was clearly a strong, experienced and highly skilled fighter; he had subdued an almost senior padawan while obviously trying to avoid damaging him. Obi-Wan wondered briefly how he had been captured, but let that thought go when he realized from his own past experience that almost anyone could be taken under the right, or unlucky, circumstances. Based on their more private exchanges, Maogg seemed to be reasonably intelligent and thoughtful, but in the presence of the guards was content to play the role of the dumb savage. If he was considered a dumb savage, however, the guards had certainly seemed to have an extra degree of fear or respect for him; there had never been less than four guards present when Maogg was outside the cell, and he had been allowed to retain his native clothes. From what he had seen so far, Obi-Wan held little hope that he might be able to sneak up on the clansman to knock him out and was certain he would be severely punished in some fashion for any unsuccessful attempts. The most puzzling aspect was Maogg's apparently absolute conviction that he was going to escape; since Obi-Wan had little choice in the matter, he decided to try to play along as best he could.

The bell for ten minutes to lights out rang out, interrupting the apprentice's thoughts. He waited for Maogg to relieve himself and brush his teeth before cautiously using the facilities himself. After he finished cleaning his teeth and face, he turned around in time to see Maogg appropriate the blanket from Obi-Wan's bunk.

"Hey, what -" The protest died on his lips as he saw the expression on Maogg's face.

"You have a problem, boy?"

"No, Mazhten."

Without another word the clansman spread the second blanket on his bunk, removed his boots and went to bed.

As the lights went out, Obi-Wan went to bed in his clothes also, hoping that his two sheets folded over would provide some small measure of warmth during the night. He was starting to get a really nasty feeling about why he might want or need to sleep in that other bunk, but hoped desperately he would be proven wrong.

Sleep did not come easily to Obi-Wan. He was sore and stiff from the day's ordeals, there was a cool night breeze that got steadily cooler, and his anxiety about his presumed upcoming rape was growing. The nightly sounds of pleasure and pain that floated in the corridor from the other cells only fueled his imaginings of what was to come. He had finally dozed off a bit when he felt rough hands toss him from the bed to the floor.

~ Oh Force, this is it, he's going to do it, ~ he screamed inside as a big hand at the scruff of his neck forced him to his hands and knees on the cold floor. He tried to stay quiet, not wanting to show his fear and revulsion, but suddenly realized that he was now crouching on the floor alone. Blinking in the pale moonlight, he looked up to see Maogg standing on the bunk by the window. Obi-Wan started to get up.

"Stay," grunted the clansman. "You will show respect for the Mother."

Obi-Wan had a vague memory from the long ago mission briefing about a Mother goddess, but the tone of voice left no doubt that there would be dire consequences if he did not stay down on the floor. He settled back into what he hoped was a respectful looking crouch, shivering a bit in the chill air.

Maogg grasped the bars tightly, turned his face up to the moon, and began a lilting chant. The power and clarity in the voice were astounding; listening in awe, Obi-Wan could easily imagine the piercing tones carrying across the empty miles outside the prison walls, singing a devotion and respect that would not be contained.

Pounding footsteps slid to a halt outside the cell. Obi-Wan tried to watch the guards out of the side of his eye.

"Shit, it's the fuckin' wildboy."

"What the fuck is the crazy bastard doing?"

"I dunno. I ain't never seen no shit like that. Look at him, will ya, it's like he don't even know where he's at."

"This is crazy. Zap the fucker, shut him up."

Measured tread of authority, a calm new voice.

"I wouldn't do that. They get crazy mean if ya try to stop them from singing to the Mother Moon."

"Aw, c'mon, Zuq. Is he gonna do this shit every night?"

The older guard nodded. "They sing every night when the moon is highest, and pray every day to Father Sun when he is brightest."

"I still say this is stupid. Let's zap him."

"Not me." The first voice lowered. "I've heard they can do stuff."

"What the fuck ya whining about?" in a scornful tone.

"They do stuff. Ya know, like make ya go sterile or get crotch rot, or worse."

"I don't believe this shit. What about it, Zuq?"

"It's just a little noise and he's not hurting anyone far as I can tell. Zap him if ya want, but don't say nobody warned ya later."

There was silence in the corridor as the pure tones continued to penetrate the night air.

"Aw, fuck it. C'mon, we got rounds to make." Two sets of footsteps faded out.

Obi-Wan watched as the older guard stayed for a few moments more. The man finally shook his head, then took a medallion from under his tunic and kissed it before turning to leave. The padawan waited patiently, considering these odd new bits of information about his strange cellmate.

A few minutes later Maogg finished and returned to his own bunk without a glance at the Jedi on the floor. Obi-Wan waited to make sure it was safe, then crawled back into his own bunk to try to get what sleep he could.

Obi-Wan woke to find himself the subject of contemplation by a pair of serene blue eyes. The clansman was sitting cross-legged on his bunk. The Jedi looked resentfully at the carelessly thrown back blankets as he tried to rub some life into his cold, stiff limbs.

A clang at the bars drew both men's attention. It was a guard with the morning bread and cheese. He was normally a gruff, taciturn fellow so Obi-Wan was surprised when he stopped to watch the clansman.

"Up," commanded Maogg, gesturing toward the cell door.

The apprentice obediently went over to fetch breakfast, placing the food on their respective bunks before heading toward the toilet.

"No." Maogg pointed to the spot between the bunks, so Obi-Wan moved back to what seemed to be Maogg's favored position for handing out guidance and wisdom.

"Strip."

Lips pursed, eyes stormy, the padawan complied, wondering what was going to happen next.

"White Panther, eh," came a rusty voice from outside the cell.

Maogg looked up and nodded at the guard, a question in his eyes.

"Thought so. Used to work up north till I got the joint disease."

"Uhm," grunted the clansman.

"Much rather fight your boys than the scum down south. Always fought honorable, your bunch did."

Maogg nodded in acknowledgement.

"Got yourself a good boy, there, even if he is one of them fuckin' Jedi."

An eyebrow raised quizzically as the head tilted.

"Oh, yeah. Put down everyone they threw at him since he got here over a month ago."

Blue eyes shifted back to watch Obi-Wan as if digesting this new information.

"He'll take a bit of breaking in, but I reckon ya can handle him if anyone can." The guard gestured at Obi-Wan's crotch. "I see ya already milked him."

While Maogg nodded at the guard, Obi-Wan blushed as he guessed at the meaning of the cloth strip bound around his genitals. The humiliation from being forced to ejaculate and then put on display still burned.

"Well, I gotta be goin', I guess." The guard looked around the cell, smiling as he noted where the blankets had ended up. "Hey, prettyboy."

Obi-Wan looked up.

"There's a freezin' spell comin' in, prettyboy. Just thought ya'd like to know." The guard laughed as if he had made a tremendous witticism and pushed his cart down the corridor, still chuckling to himself.

Maogg didn't give Obi-Wan time to contemplate the implications of that last statement. He rose and did a quick inspection of the young Jedi's body, checking his injuries, flexing his joints, checking muscle tone and thumping his ribs. After allowing Obi-Wan to relieve himself, they went through a series of stretching exercises before they ate the meager breakfast. After the meal, Maogg retired to a front corner of the cell to sit, eyes closed, as the padawan made the beds with the regulation one blanket per bed and tidied up the cell.

"Front and center, asswipes," called the guard as he went down the row of cells. Consulting a list, he called out various prisoners. "Move it, exercise time. Haul yer lazy asses."

The sound of shuffling feet was the only noise as the closely guarded group of prisoners moved down the ramp, through the double gates and out into the large exercise yard. High security inmates were allowed out in randomly chosen groups of twenty to thirty every other day for two hours if the weather was reasonable. It was a privilege valued almost as much as the evening meal.

As soon as the guards retreated to the overhead walkways, the group gathered around the newcomer. Maogg patiently answered questions for a few minutes before starting to walk away, Obi-Wan trailing behind him.

"Hey, pervert, finally got your ass kicked, eh?" said a short, sallow prisoner who had been one of Obi-Wan's first victims. He reached out to grab the Jedi's butt.

"Mine," said Maogg quietly as the little man suddenly dangled in the air, a big fist around his neck. "Don't touch."

"Agghh, sure, sure, whatever ya say, just lemme down." He was dropped like a sack of rocks.

The clansman looked around casually as Obi-Wan stood quietly with his head down. Finally, someone cleared his throat. "Nice bitch ya got."

"Yes. We exercise now. Boy will need to be strong to serve me."

There was a general snicker and the group parted to allow the pair to leave.

Maogg took his prize to the far end of the yard and went through some simple stretching exercises before starting off on a slow circuit of the yard to warm up. After the first few minutes he picked up the pace and they spent the next hour and a half running around and around the yard.

The late morning breeze was brisk and at first Obi-Wan felt good as he warmed up and began to enjoy the exercise, working off the stiffness left from his injuries. It was the first time in quite a while that he had actually been able to get in a good physical workout instead of spending the time drifting around the edge of the yard either watching his back or fending someone off. Fortunately he had not usually been the center of attention as a lot of the focus at most sessions went either to turf struggles or to betting when owners would set bitches against each other. Bitch fights were among the most desperate the apprentice had ever seen as the consequences for the losers were severe: not only did the winning bitch get to fuck the loser, but the loser's owner usually punished him again when they got back to their cell if he was a forced instead of consensual bitch. The first few exercise sessions had been very enlightening for the young Jedi, both as to the viciousness of the inmate relations and the amount and types of contraband material available from the evidently bribable prisoner trustees and guards. Almost as fascinating had been the insights on the prisoner hierarchy: numerous small groups led by the strongest prisoners, shifting group memberships as guards transferred prisoners between the three high security floors, a few individuals and several pairs who were unattractive enough, inoffensive enough or had enough money from family or friends to drift harmlessly along the fringes of the prison society.

After the first half hour, enjoyment turned to work. Maogg kept up a good pace around the boring circle and Obi-Wan began to realize just how much of an edge he had lost off his conditioning during his time in the prison. The other prisoners would shout lewd comments each time he passed to encourage him. By the time they slowed down to a walk to cool down the padawan was dripping and panting while it seemed that the clansman was barely sweating.

The guards were beginning to gather as the exercise period neared its end. Maogg and Obi-Wan were doing a few last stretches when Maogg suddenly stopped.

"Down," he ordered. When Obi-Wan did not immediately respond he swept the apprentice's feet out from under him; finally the young man figured out what was wanted and crouched on his hands and knees. Maogg went to one knee, his face up to the sun now high overhead, and began a low, sing song chant. It was deeper and rougher than the homage to the moon: a song of strength, a warrior's song. Obi-Wan noticed that it seemed to reverberate around them rather than soar across the plain; he also saw that everyone else had backed away to the other end of the yard, some muttering to themselves. When he finished, Maogg gathered his possession and strolled over to join the line of prisoners that had formed, supremely unconcerned about anyone else's reaction to his activities.

The rest of the afternoon passed quietly. Obi-Wan was allowed to wash up at the small sink before eating the bread and cheese that waited for them in their cell. Maogg began teaching the apprentice some of the exercises they would be doing on the days they could not go to the yard. The evening meal was relatively uneventful; Obi-Wan ended up with three extra tuberous vegetables and an extra piece of something crunchy dripping in greasy gravy.

Obi-Wan had just finished brushing his teeth when the ten minute bell rang.

"Strip," came the brusque command from the bunk behind him. His sphincter tightened but he quickly obeyed, then stood between the two bunks.

Maogg rose and circled around the apprentice, eyeing him critically. He checked the swelling under Obi-Wan's eye, which had by now turned a rather spectacular shade of purple, and made sure the strip of cloth was still firmly in place around his genitals. Obi-Wan bit his lip and kept silent during the inspection, even when the broken fingernails caught on the sensitive skin of his scrotum.

"Your duty is to serve," said Maogg flatly as he stopped in front of the young man.

"Yes, Mazhten." Obi-Wan kept his eyes directed downward.

"You ran poorly today."

"Yes, Mazhten."

"Next time you will do better."

"Yes, Mazhten."

Maogg leaned down until he was face to face and said very softly, "Serve me and I will take care of you."

Obi-Wan licked dry lips, his breathing tight as the man's odor filled his nose. "Yes, Mazhten."

The clansman moved around behind the Jedi. Obi-Wan heard a quick rustle, then the command, "Bed."

"Yes, Mazhten." Turning around to his bunk, he saw that tonight the blanket and both sheets were gone. Grim faced, he moved to the head of his bunk and reached for his pants.

"Oww," yelped Obi-Wan as two stinging slaps reddened his butt.

"Did I say you could put clothes on?"

Obi-Wan looked angrily at the clansman, fists clenched at his side, breathing heavily through his nose as he fought to control his temper. After a long moment, he finally spat out through gritted teeth, "No, Mazhten."

"Bed." After the curt command, Maogg ignored the Jedi, took off his boots and got in bed.

Curling up at one end of his bunk, Obi-Wan tried to get some sleep. The night breeze was even colder than the previous evening, and he shivered all night. A few hours later he was again dumped on the floor, and crouched quietly while the clansman finished his devotions to the moon. Morning found him tired, stiff, very cold but still unfucked. Glancing up through bloodshot eyes at the serene blue gaze watching him from under two blankets the next morning, he wondered just what the bloody bastard wanted from him.

The day passed relatively quietly. Maogg taught the young man a series of exercises they could perform in the limited space. Obi-Wan pretended he was simply learning new katas back at the Temple, but was surprised at how tired he felt by the time they ran through a few hours of almost nonstop variations and combinations of stretches, pushups, pull-ups, running in place, and what seemed to be unarmed combat moves. The apprentice had worked up a good sweat by the time they stopped for the clansman's devotions to the Sun Father. From his place on the floor, Obi-Wan watched almost enviously as Maogg knelt by the cell door, graceful and seemingly unaffected by the hard exercise. During the afternoon the padawan attempted to meditate but could not find his center amidst his swirling emotions. At the communal meal the two cellmates were pushed further up in line by the guards so they ended up with different prisoners at their table; Obi-Wan overheard the guards making bets on Maogg's `hunting' skills. One of their new meal mates did object to the clansman's appropriations, but ended up with two broken fingers for his troubles. Obi-Wan was barely able to finish all the extra food before they had to leave.

The evening was becoming a particularly anxious time for the young Jedi. He hauled himself up to the window, gazing out into the clear, cold air, and thought about home.

~ Qui-Gon, I know you are out there somewhere. I can't feel the Force, but I know you are there, and I hope you are looking for me. I'm afraid, Master, afraid of this place, afraid of this man who looks so much like you, afraid of what is going to happen to me and the things I may be forced to do. I just want you to know I love you, Qui-Gon, and I waited all those years to ask you to be my lover, but I'm running out of time and choices, and I just hope you will still want me after whatever they do to me here. ~ Obi-Wan squeezed the bars hard, knuckles white. ~ Please, Master, if you are searching for me, please look a little faster. I don't know how long I can stand it here. ~ He rested his head against the cold steel, fighting back the sting of tears. The air was already colder than the previous night and he was worried about what was to come, worried and lonely and fearful.

After the harsh clang of the ten minute bell, Obi-Wan stood naked between the bunks as Maogg began his nightly inspection. The young Jedi tried to remain passive, giving no outward indication of his feelings as the big hands touched his body, ignoring the occasional scratch from the broken fingernails.

Apparently satisfied with the results of his examination, Maogg paused in front of the young man. He leaned over until the two were face to face. "Your duty is to serve," said Maogg very quietly.

"Yes, Mazhten." Obi-Wan kept his eyes directed downward, his heart racing from the older man's nearness, Maogg's scent and sound filling his senses.

"Serve me and I will take care of you." A silent, intense whisper.

Obi-Wan looked up, licking dry lips. He looked into the deep blue eyes, feeling his gut churn. Unable to sustain the contact, he swallowed and dropped his eyes. "Yes, Mazhten," he whispered.

Maogg stepped away, moved around behind the young man to strip the other bunk. Tossing the blanket and sheets onto his own bunk, the clansman stood by the sink as he gave his curt command, "Bed."

Turning around warily, Obi-Wan saw Maogg pointing to a spot almost directly under the open window. Obi-Wan crawled onto the bunk and sat at the indicated spot, hugging his knees tightly. Maogg turned back to the sink, taking one of the spare sheets and thoroughly soaking it. He then took the dripping sheet and wrung it out over the surprised Jedi, repeating the process until Obi-Wan and the mattress were drenched. Leaving the wet sheet in the sink, Maogg then went to bed.

Obi-Wan had never tolerated the cold particularly well, and the previous two nights had been miserable. Tonight, however, he knew he might well have reached the limit of how far his dogged stubbornness and fear could sustain him. The temperature was dropping rapidly; within a half hour he was shivering violently. Taking a chance, he silently eased off the bed and went to the front of the cell where he could stand in the distinctly warmer air coming from the corridor. Within a few moments he was writhing in silent agony, his back pressed against the bars. One large hand was pressed over his mouth to keep him quiet while the other squeezed his testicles. Finally the hold was released, Obi-Wan was carried back to the bed and again doused with water. This time Maogg used the wet sheet to tie the Jedi's hands behind his back.

The next few hours went beyond miserable to torturous. Occasionally guards would wander by on their rounds and look in, but they never intervened. The temperature continued to drop and Obi-Wan could see his breath in the cold air. He was shivering continuously, teeth chattering, nose dripping. Without his Force sense he could not regulate his temperature internally, had not, in fact, even been able to meditate very well for several tendays. He was rapidly coming to understand that his situation was now a question of survival versus submission. Starting to drift in and out of blackness, he was painfully jerked back to wakefulness when he was grabbed by his bound hands and dumped to the icy floor. He knelt, hands still behind his back, shaking uncontrollably, while Maogg sang to his god, his devotion ringing across the empty miles in the freezing night air.

When the clansman had finished, he dropped lightly off the bed and went to the sink. He turned around with a full cup of water and stood watching the shivering padawan. He glanced briefly at the guards who had gathered outside the cell, then completely ignored them.

There was a long moment of silence as the apprentice looked up into the still blue eyes. He knew then, without any doubt, that his enigmatic new master was fully in control and it truly was his survival that was at stake. Obi-Wan decided there was no value to anyone if he died in this awful place; better to take a chance on life and getting back to his true master as damaged goods than never get back at all. Also choosing to ignore the voyeuristic guards, he buried his pride and anger, dropped his eyes and shuffled forward on his knees. Bowing his head to the floor in front of Maogg, he managed to croak out, "mmmazz'tttn."

"What do you want?"

"Ttto ssserve you, mmmazttn."

"You understand that once started, you cannot go back."

One last spasm wrenched his gut as the apprentice shivered and rocked. He swallowed hard before managing to reply, "Yyyes, mmmaztn."

Maogg moved to his bunk, unlaced the front of his pants and drew out a semi-erect penis. He sat on the edge of the bunk. "You may serve me now."

Obi-Wan shuffled on his knees until he was between Maogg's legs. He eyed the large penis uncertainly, trying to calm his churning stomach. He leaned forward to nuzzle the warm organ, but he was still shivering uncontrollably and his teeth chattered so much he couldn't get his mouth around it.

Abruptly, Maogg stood up, shoving his penis back inside his pants. He untied Obi-Wan's hands, then for the next several minutes he used the remaining extra sheet to thoroughly dry the young man and rub warmth back into his shaking limbs. When the Jedi was no longer shivering, Maogg again took his penis out and sat on the edge of his bunk.

Moving back into position between the clansman's legs, Obi-Wan swallowed hard as he tentatively reached out.

~ Force, even soft the damned thing is huge, ~ he thought shakily, his stomach still fluttering. Putting his head down, ~ When was the last time he took a shower? ~ was his next passing thought as he got a huge whiff of pungent body odor.

Closing his eyes and doing his best to send his mind somewhere else, Obi-Wan set to work. He knew the theory of fellatio, but had no practical experience to fall back on. Working his tongue down the long length toward the dark curly hair, Obi-Wan almost gagged on the odors of old sweat and urine. He used his hands to fondle the large balls and stroke the penis as it hardened, licking and sucking, trying to ignore the sour taste. Licking up and down the entire length of the organ and around the soft sac, Obi-Wan had to pause to spit out the wiry pubic hairs he accidentally inhaled. He attempted to take the full cock into his mouth and only partially succeeded. Trying to compensate with his hands, he stroked faster as the clansman began to respond by thrusting his hips. Maogg moved swiftly to completion, holding Obi-Wan's head to force his cock deeper into his mouth. The young man was desperately trying to breathe as the enormous cock filled his mouth and the jet of hot semen caught him by surprise. The large hand on the back of his head prevented him from pulling back; he swallowed some of the liquid but much of it dribbled out of his mouth and down his chin. Maogg pulled back with a contented sigh and leaned back on his elbows.

A few seconds later Obi-Wan crawled desperately to the toilet and started heaving. Maogg was immediately at his side, supporting him and stroking his back. When the spasms finally stopped, Obi-Wan gratefully took the cup of water offered by Maogg and rinsed his mouth out several times. The rough friction dried and warmed him as the clansman wiped him down again with the dry sheet, then helped him into bed. Obi-Wan felt the still-clothed clansman spooning behind him, Maogg rubbing his belly soothingly as the combined heat from both bodies soon made them comfortable.

Obi-Wan was silent for several moments, accepting the shared warmth as his stomach settled down. He finally ventured a meek, "I'm sorry, Mazhten."

"Service can be difficult at the beginning." Maogg shrugged. "You will learn."

"Yes, Mazhten."

The young man lay quietly, eyes closed, arms hugged tightly to himself, trying to make himself as small as possible in the limited space. Try as he might, he could not help replaying the recent events in his mind, resentful for yet another dream the clansman had stolen from him. The sour salt taste of Maogg's semen lingered in his mouth as the sharp odor still filled his nose. He was very aware of the large body behind him and he could not help but draw a bitter comparison of the large hand massaging his midsection to the hand that he had hoped to have there.

Obi-Wan had finally started to drift off to sleep when he felt the hand that had been rubbing his belly slide to his hip and then to his ass. He stiffened in panic and turned over to face Maogg, threw all remaining pride and dignity out the window and decided to beg.

"Please, Mazhten, please don't do that to me. I will do anything else you want, I swear it, just please, please don't do it," he pleaded.

"That is not for you to say."

"Please, Mazhten, I've never had sex before. Please," he whimpered desperately as a tear finally escaped.

"You have never taken or been taken?" asked Maogg wonderingly. At the answering nod, he asked, "Are you a first born?"

"No, Mazhten. Where I come from everyone is free to give or withhold their body as they choose, not just first born. I...I was saving myself for someone I care for very much, I wanted him to be my first lover."

"I have heard of these things, but did not believe them. This is truly your way?"

"Yes, Mazhten. We choose the person and hope they also choose us; we do not take. Just as Jedi do not steal babies, or have sex with children, or practice dark magic. All of these things are against our laws and our beliefs."

Maogg snorted dismissively. "Only the southerners believe such nonsense about Jedi. I have met other Jedi, and I have looked into you, and I know such nonsense is stupid. I did not know about your manner of taking, but this is good." In the dim light from the corridor Obi-Wan could see the satisfied smile. "The Mother will be thrice pleased."

"I don't understand."

"There is much about us that you do not seem to understand. The Father Sun gives us strength of body, to fight, to hunt, to live. Mother Moon, however, gives us inner strength and the wisdom to properly use strength of mind and body. The Mother teaches us the Way of Life and how to use her special gifts. New takings are made when the moon is fullest to honor her. She will be thrice pleased when I take you; singly honored for the taking itself, doubly honored because you were a strong and honorable foe, and thrice honored because you have many seasons and are still untouched."

"Mazhten, please, is there nothing I can do to change your mind?"

Maogg raised a hand to softly caress the cheek where the distraught tears had escaped. "You are mine and the Mother *will* have her offering." He leaned in very close and spoke in a stern voice, pitched very low to avoid the monitors. "You are thinking like Father Sun, strong but muddy and emotional. You must learn to think like the Mother."

Obi-Wan wiped his eyes, ashamed of his weakness, and made a querying noise.

"You have been in this place long enough to understand that the guards have great power over us and also want to be entertained by us. There are some who understand my people's ways, and they have been willing to let my claim on you stand because they know what will happen in a few days. If I do not make the offering, they will think I am weak and they will take you away. Since no single man except me has been able to subdue you, they will move you to one of the four man cells. You are a good fighter, but you will not be able to stand very long against three others. Would you really rather have three of those southern animals using you than me?"

"No, Mazhten." Obi-Wan shuddered at the prospect.

"I will keep you and you will serve me. In return I will teach you and take care of you. It is the right way of things. The Mother teaches that pain without purpose is a bad thing; obey me and life will be good, disobey and you will be punished. I will help you grow strong so that we will be able to leave this place when the time is right."

"Yes, Mazhten. I think I understand."

"Good. Sleep now."

"Yes, Mazhten." Obi-Wan turned over, hesitated a moment, then let Maogg spoon against him again on the narrow bunk. Although resigned to his fate for the moment, it was still quite a while before his thoughts quieted enough to let him drift off into the pleasant warmth.

The next morning Obi-Wan woke when he felt the man beside him slide out of bed. Looking up, he saw Maogg speaking quietly to their morning guard. When he turned back with their morning bread and cheese, he seemed pleased with himself but spoke only a few curt commands as they went through the familiar routine of inspection and cleaning up. It was an exercise day and they found themselves herded out with a midmorning group.

As the prisoners began to drift apart to their respective groups or pairings, Obi-Wan noticed the man whose fingers the clansman had broken at the previous night's meal. He had three others with him and they looked in an ugly mood.

"Mazhten," he called softly. "To your left."

An almost imperceptible nod was the only response.

The other prisoner moved directly into their path and stopped, hands on hips. "Well, well," he said with a sneer. "If it isn't the animal and his perverted little bitch."

Maogg stared back silently.

"Listen, asshole," continued the prisoner. "I know about you animals, living up in the hills and scaring folks with your mumbojumbo about suns and moons and that shit, and I ain't scared of you. You might be able to take on that Jedi baby-fuckin' piece of shit, but that don't give ya rights to come in and steal food from real men, `specially not to give to your slimeball bitch."

"I will do what I need to do," replied Maogg quietly, seemingly oblivious to the other three prisoners now circling in behind him.

"Not on my turf, asshole. Get him, boys."

All four men tried to attack the clansman but had clearly not counted on Obi-Wan protecting Maogg's back. The Jedi took out one surprised prisoner in a flurry of blows; when he turned back he found that Maogg had already put down one man and was dealing handily with the remaining two. In just a few minutes all four attackers were unconscious on the ground in various states of disrepair. The clansman looked at the Jedi for a few moments before nodding to himself and silently turning away to continue walking to the other end of the yard. Obi-Wan allowed himself a touch of resentment that his effort had not even been acknowledged, since it was generally not expected among the prisoners for a `forced bitch', as he was now obviously considered, to stand up for his owner. The apprentice did not have long to think about it, however, as the clansman went straight into their workout and stepped up the pace from their previous session, forcing Obi-Wan to work hard to keep up. The attitude of most of the other prisoners was made abundantly clear by crude comments as they passed by on their run; one slender young man crouched at his owner's feet spat disgustedly in the Jedi's direction.

The afternoon passed quietly enough. Obi-Wan was in a morose, almost sullen mood. The aftereffects of his wet exposure to the freezing cold still lingered; his head felt stuffy and his nose still dripped sporadically. He was not happy about having had to submit; tiny needles of shame and guilt kept jabbing at his self-confidence and esteem. His anxiety about his future, both his future duties and any hope of a possible rescue, kept him on edge. At the evening meal he choked on a stringy piece of meat; with the time he lost recovering he did not manage to finish all of his food. As a result, when they returned to the cell Maogg made him strip early and do pushups while he dispassionately lectured him about wasting hard won resources and the need to develop his strength and stamina. At lights out Maogg curtly told him he would require service after moonrise and allowed him to crawl into their shared bunk. Although grateful for the warmth, by that time Obi-Wan was in an exceptionally foul mood.

With his usual uncanny timing, Maogg arose when the moon was highest and went to the window. Obi-Wan adopted his now customary respectful crouch, shivering in the cold air. Devotions finished, the clansman went to his bunk, unlaced his pants and sat down. The younger man swallowed hard, then crawled over between the long legs. Maogg patted the Jedi's head; in the dim light from the corridor Obi-Wan could see a pleased smile as the padawan took the flaccid cock in hand and began licking and sucking.

"Good news," whispered Maogg as his cock rapidly hardened. "The moon will be full in three nights. I will begin preparing you for the taking."

Although he did not stop his ministrations, Obi-Wan felt his gut tighten and had to battle hard to stop from vomiting right then and there. The taste of the bile rising in his throat threatened to overwhelm the taste of the sour, earthy cock in his mouth. He had not been paying much attention to the standard date lately and calculated furiously for a few seconds.

~ No. Force, no. Not that day, of all days. ~ He almost gagged in despair. ~ My twenty first birthday. That was supposed to be Qui-Gon's day. All those years of waiting, planning, hoping. All destroyed by this Sith spawned place and this fucking bastard. No! ~

A red haze hung before the Jedi's vision as the many tendays of anxiety, frustration and loneliness finally erupted in a blind rage at the sheer injustice of it all. Pulling back, he screamed in anger. Focusing on the nearest available point of attack, he grabbed the clansman's cock in both hands and tried to bite down. He heard a thunderous roar above him before he flew across the cell and crashed into the far wall.

Shaking his head as he quickly recovered consciousness, Obi-Wan was dimly aware that the outer corridor had gone silent except for the pounding of boots as guards hurried to investigate the disturbance. He tried to sit up, then found himself hauled to his feet by his collars.

Maogg leaned down until he was eye to eye with the the apprentice. "You have disobeyed and have drawn blood where you should not. You will be punished," he said in a quiet, level voice.

"Fuck you," mumbled Obi-Wan defiantly, his head still swimming. He twisted away and kicked viciously. Maogg backed off from the unexpected attack and stumbled over onto a bunk. Obi-Wan staggered to the front of the cell, hanging onto the bars to hold himself up. As his vision cleared, he saw the clansman charging toward him. With a ragged yell, Obi-Wan recklessly threw himself forward. His shoulder connected solidly with Maogg's gut, sending both men whoomphing down. He tried to scramble up, but the clansman grabbed him and the two men rolled on the floor. The snarling apprentice briefly managed to claw free and landed another satisfying blow, blood trickling from Maogg's nose. With a quick rush the clansman enveloped Obi-Wan in a bear hug and took him down. Maogg used his size and weight to wrap up the smaller man, holding the wriggling Jedi on the floor while he snaked an arm around his throat and began throttling him. Obi-Wan fought as long as he could, but eventually lay limply, circles floating before his eyes as he began to black out. The clansman finally released him, then stood wiping the blood from his face, watching the young man gasping for breath.

Shaking his head almost sadly, Maogg replied softly, "You *will* learn obedience." Dragging the Jedi with him, he moved to his bunk and sat down. He flipped the naked young man over so that Obi-Wan was draped over his thighs. He captured both wrists in one huge hand and held them behind the Jedi's back and used one leg to pin his ankles. Maogg then began to spank the young man, stinging blows that rang loudly. Outside the cell, the two guards smiled and settled in to watch the show as the hill man disciplined his bitch.

At first still groggy from his near asphyxiation, it took Obi-Wan a few seconds to understand what was happening to him. His initial reaction was disbelief, then shocked outrage.

~ No! How dare he! I haven't been spanked since I was fifteen and lied to Qui-Gon when he caught me trying to sneak in half-drunk. No one else has the right to do that to me! ~

The apprentice rode the crest of a huge adrenalin spike to surge up, arching his back, and managed to pull his legs and one arm loose. Clawing, kicking and biting, he tried to escape his tormentor, but his freedom was short-lived. Maogg grabbed the young Jedi and threw both of them down hard to the floor. Obi-Wan's head slammed into the unyielding surface as the weight of the clansman drove his breath out in an explosive gust. Maogg took advantage of the apprentice's dazed state to tie his hands together behind his back. The clansman seated himself again, repositioned the recalcitrant young Jedi, and continued the punishment.

Obi-Wan shook his head to clear it and immediately realized he was now trapped in the humiliating situation. His hands were pushed up high, painfully pulling at his shoulder joints, and his legs were held firmly. The first crash of the hard open hand against soft skin seared across his awareness, his entire body jerking from the power of the blow. The indignity of the punishment was driven home as the young man lay helplessly across the clansman's legs, unable to escape as the blows continued. Obi-Wan felt blood rushing to his head, partly from the degrading position and partly from anger.

Maogg continued the methodical spanking, periodically shifting his target to cover the entire buttocks and upper thighs. Initially Obi-Wan was still so angry he was able to resist the pain. As the assault relentlessly continued, however, the pain overcame his resistance. He yelled, he cursed, he screamed, tears began flowing, but the blows continued without pause. Obi-Wan felt the burning heat spreading and each new blow became agony. He was beyond feeling emotions; there was no anger, no humiliation, only pain. It became so bad he shamelessly sobbed and begged, apologized, swore to obey, but still it continued until Obi-Wan was certain his glowing ass must be lighting up the cell from the heat. His face felt almost as hot and red as he flushed from embarrassment.

Eventually Maogg was satisfied and stopped, hand centered on the Jedi's back. Obi-Wan's whole consciousness was filled with pain and he was sobbing incoherently. For almost fifteen minutes, they simply sat there, Maogg rubbing his hand in circles on Obi-Wan's back, until the young man had quieted. Outside the cell, the shift leader had arrived and chased the guards off to make their other rounds, but still lingered himself.

Gently Maogg lifted the Jedi down until he was on his knees, his body still trembling. He untied Obi-Wan's hands, letting him put his forearms across the clansman's muscular thighs to hold himself up. He wiped away the tears and held a wad of toilet paper for the young man to blow his nose.

"You were disobedient."

"Yes, Mazhten. I apologize, Mazhten," in a small voice, head hung down.

"Do you still wish to serve?"

"Yes, please, Mazhten."

"Then your apology is accepted." Maogg lifted Obi-Wan's chin, looked into his eyes and continued very softly. "I understand that this is not easy for you, but this is a dangerous place and you must learn to live by the rules here if you want to live. You must learn to obey me completely, and I will take care of you. Do you understand?"

Obi-Wan swallowed, holding back more tears. Looking into the blue eyes, he felt the clansman's complete sincerity and absolute conviction. He finally submitted emotionally as well as physically, giving himself over to his new master, silently begging Qui-Gon's forgiveness for what he had to do. "Yes, Mazhten," he answered sadly, feeling a numbness settle over his spirit as surely as the dampening collar had subdued his connection to the Force.

Maogg looked into Obi-Wan's eyes for a long while. Finally content with what he saw, he patted the Jedi's head. "It will be alright eventually; you will see." He paused and leaned back, supporting himself on his arms. "Now, you may serve me."

"Yes, Mazhten."

Fortunately Maogg had a great deal of patience and was willing to wait for the pained padawan to get himself together and fumble his way through the fellatio, finally wrapping his hand around Obi-Wan's hands and fisting together until the hot seed was deposited in the Jedi's mouth and the majority of it swallowed. Satisfied that the lesson had been fully learned, he then carefully helped the young man into the bunk and slid in next to him to pass the remainder of the night.

The next few days were miserable for Obi-Wan. The first morning after his beating he could barely hobble to the toilet. Maogg released him from his duties to the extent of making the bunks himself and collecting the bread and cheese brought round by the guards. He let Obi-Wan lie on his own bunk with his pants down and used one of their small towels, soaked in cold water, to help reduce the heat and swelling in the bruised buttocks and thighs. During the afternoon he forced the Jedi to get up and walk slowly around the cell, gasping and sweating, so that he was able to make it to the dining hall under his own power. Inside the dining hall Obi-Wan's face flamed almost as hot as his abused ass as he heard the comments and laughter, knowing that everyone on the floor had heard the whole episode. He managed to perch above his seat without quite sitting down, drawing more jokes and smirks, and kept his head down between hunched shoulders while he ate. They went to bed early, before lights out, and Maogg helped him in and out of the bunk for the nightly devotions.

The second morning was painful but not nearly as bad. Maogg got up early for another chat with the morning guard and came back holding a plastic bottle of oil. Obi-Wan paid little attention except for dully wondering what the clansman could possibly have had to trade for it. Maogg rousted the Jedi out of bed and put him back to work. They again ended up on an early morning exercise yard shift. The clansman allowed a longer period of stretching to allow Obi-Wan to work out some of the stiffness, but was adamant that they run for at least an hour, albeit at a very reduced pace. Obi-Wan thought he would die with each painful step, but any slowing earned him another sharp swat on the ass and a round of jeers from the other prisoners so he gritted his teeth and finished the run. He did feel looser when they got to back to their cell and Maogg periodically made him get up, stretch and pace around so he didn't stiffen up.

Also starting the second morning began what Maogg called `the preparation'. He refused to allow Obi-Wan to eat any solid food but insisted that he begin drinking large quantities of water throughout the day, allegedly for cleansing, muttering about not having all the supplies for a proper cleansing. By the end of the day Obi-Wan felt like he was sloshing inside. After the evening meal of two bowls of soup, Maogg had him strip and stretch out on his own bunk. He took some of the oil he had obtained and slowly massaged all of the tender flesh, soothing much of the pain and helping the skin soften. Obi-Wan was surprised at how effective the massage was; it was almost as good as when Qui-Gon used to tend to him and he idly wondered whether this was another of Mother Moon's mysterious gifts. Having finished, Maogg put one hand on Obi-Wan's back and leaned over to whisper to the drowsing Jedi.

"You must stay relaxed as I prepare you. I don't want to hurt you." He moved one hand to the upturned ass and poured a little oil into the crack.

"What?" Obi-Wan looked up, an eyebrow raised in query.

"It is a very bad sign if you are injured during the first taking. I will help you learn to open and relax."

"Huh? Open what?" Sudden understanding flashed across his face as he felt a large finger touch his opening. "Oh," Obi-Wan said in a small voice as he flushed bright red. He put his head down, closed his eyes and worked hard at making himself a distant observer of the whole proceedings.

For the next hour Maogg carefully massaged the area around the tight sphincter, gradually working his smallest finger inside, then both of his smallest fingers. Obi-Wan was finally able to relax enough to allow both fingers to move in and out unimpeded, slowly stretching the small opening. Maogg finally grunted, "Enough for the first time," and let Obi-Wan rest for a while.

Maogg worked on the apprentice just before they went to bed, after the early morning singing and service, and again after they woke. Throughout the day he forced the Jedi to drink water, to periodically exercise and work on stretching the anal muscles. Obi-Wan still blushed and smarted inside at each invasion of his body, but from practical necessity acquiesced to the lessons, learning to release the muscles enough to fully accept three large fingers. Drinking his soup at the evening meal, Obi-Wan again found himself the center of much avid attention, as if the entire place knew what was to happen later that night and was eagerly waiting to participate vicariously. He found the atmosphere very unsettling, but it did not seem to bother Maogg in the slightest.

After the meal the clansman initiated a joint workout until they had both worked up a good sweat. He removed the strips of cloth from the apprentice's collar and crotch, washed them out and set them aside to dry. He had Obi-Wan strip, did another anal stretching, then carefully washed every inch of the young man's body from head to toe. He combed out the Jedi's hair and replaited the long braid himself. Obi-Wan had a sudden attack of deja vu, picturing himself back at the Temple with Qui-Gon deftly handling the long slender tresses. He shuddered and had to fight hard to repress the sudden urge to cry, clenching his hands into white-knuckled fists until the emotion subsided.

The two men switched places. For the first time Obi-Wan got to see Maogg fully unclothed and was impressed by the smooth, hard muscles and numerous scars as he carefully washed and groomed the big body, a body worthy of a finely tuned Jedi Master. That was a thought he hastily banished before it got him into new trouble, ashamed that he had even considered it. The padawan had an inspiration and took advantage of the opportunity to get rid of what had been an ongoing minor irritant; he persuaded the skeptical clansman to let him soak his fingers and used a couple of rough stones he had picked up in the exercise yard to carefully clean and file the ragged nails until they were relatively smooth. Concentrating on such minor details helped Obi-Wan to avoid fixating on what was yet to come.

Once both men were clean, Maogg put the Jedi face down on his own bunk and slowly massaged him, head to toe. When he was finished, he had Obi-Wan turn over and started on the fingers.

Lulled into relaxed drowsiness by the long massage, Obi-Wan decided to take a chance on something that had been bothering him for a while. "Mazhten, may I ask you a question?"

"Yes," was the absent reply.

Nodding toward the front of the cell where the camera stared at them unblinkingly and the occasional guard wandered by, he asked "Doesn't it bother you that we are always watched? Where I come from, things like sex are done privately."

A rare chuckle answered him. "There is little privacy within the clan. When we are on the move between hunting, we live in tents or in the open. During the winter, many families live together at our base holding to conserve heat. In any event, a first taking is never done privately if there is family to provide witness. When I took my first wife, my brother, parents, grandparents, and great great grandmother were there. Births, deaths, sex, discipline, it is all part of life. The Mother sees all, she knows all, there is no shame in seeing."

Obi-Wan shuddered at the notion of his Grand-Master being present if Qui-Gon had actually agreed to initiate his padawan into sex; the picture of Yoda stumping around and whacking them with his gimer stick if they didn't get the positions right was downright frightening. Part of Maogg's comment caught his attention.

"How many wives do you have, Mazhten?"

There was a long pause. "At the moment, none. My first wife was killed on a hunt. When I offered for a special task, to spy on the southerners, I cut the joining from my second wife if I was captured. She has probably gone back to her own family by now."

"I'm sorry."

"Life goes on," shrugged Maogg. He continued brusquely, "We must get ready for tonight."

"Yes, Mazhten."

The rest of the massage proceeded in silence and was not completed until after the lights went out. Maogg continued by the dim light from the corridor. He rethreaded the strip of cloth around both collars, tying it off. He then positioned the Jedi in a spread-eagle position on the bunk, hands over his head hanging on to the top support bar and legs spread. Placing the second strip of cloth at the foot of the bed, Maogg slowly caressed the Jedi's cock, stroking it into fullness as he uttered a low chant. When it was hard and dripping, he took the strip of cloth and wrapped it very tightly in a figure eight, first around the base of the cock, then around the balls, leaving a quick release knot at the end.

Obi-Wan had closed his eyes while his cock was being aroused and grunted when the cloth suddenly tightened around its base. He shifted uncomfortably as his bound cock strained futilely in the cool air. "Mazhten - "

"Silence." Obi-Wan subsided. "The mother will rise high and early tonight. We must be ready when she calls."

Maogg swiftly stroked himself to hardness, then knelt beside the bunk, eyes closed. He chanted softly to himself, both hands on Obi-Wan, one hand resting on his belly and the other slowly fondling the upright cock. After what seemed like an eternity to the young Jedi but in reality was probably less than half an hour, the clansman suddenly rose and motioned to Obi-Wan to stand up. Removing the mattress, he carefully positioned it on the floor at the front of the cell, ensuring that he could see out the window from a kneeling position. By now, several guards had gathered in front of the cell and the entire corridor was unnaturally silent as all waited expectantly for the deflowering of the despised Jedi. Obi-Wan could feel his stomach fluttering, cold sweat gathering, and all the benefit from the earlier washing and massage seemed to be rapidly dissipating.

Standing in front of Obi-Wan, Maogg put a hand on each side of his face and forced him to look up. "Your duty is to serve," he said softly.

"Yes, Mazhten," replied Obi-Wan, licking dry lips.

"Obey me and I will take care of you."

"Yes, Mazhten." Obi-Wan could feel his heart racing and his gut churning as he was led to the mattress and put down on his hands and knees. His cock was hard and throbbing from the forced stimulation.

~ Force, this is really it, isn't it? ~

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and hung his head. There was nothing more he could do except endure.

~ I'm sorry, Master. I wasn't strong enough. Please try to understand. I'm so sorry. ~

As he felt the heat of the clansman move in behind his spread legs, Obi-Wan began to repeat the Code in his head to distract himself.

~ There is no emotion, there is peace
there is no ignorance, there is knowledge
there is no passion, there is serenity
there is no death, there is the Force
Please forgive me, Master

There is no emotion, there is peace
there is no ignorance, there is knowledge
there is no passion, there is serenity
there is no death, there is the Force
Please forgive me, Master ~

Maogg began a slow chant as he used a liberal dose of oil to begin slowly stretching the Jedi's still tight anus. Two fingers, then a long series of three finger stretches while the other hand continued to lightly caress the bound cock. Finally satisfied that the young man was as ready as he was going to get, he poured more oil into his hand and began slicking his own hard cock.

Obi-Wan involuntarily bucked forward when he felt the oily head of the huge organ touch his opening, but the large hands on his hips quickly tightened and held him in place, painful where the thumbs dug in to his still tender ass. They stayed like that for several moments. The low, slow chant suddenly changed, however, becoming higher, more urgent. Obi-Wan looked up briefly to see a bright, full moon high overhead as he felt the cock begin to push harder, seeking entrance to his body. He closed his eyes again, trying to will his body to stay relaxed as his mind tried to withdraw. The clansman's chant seemed to draw him in, making it easier to lose himself in the ritual.

~ There is no emotion, there is peace
there is no ignorance, there is knowledge
there is no passion, there is - ~

"AAHAH."

Maogg chanted and pushed forward, pausing when the head of his cock popped through the outer ring and Obi-Wan gasped a sharp cry of pain. He held Obi-Wan's hips still as he slowly began to push forward again, never allowing the chant to falter. The gradual penetration continued until Maogg's cock was fully contained in the hot slick sheath. Once more Maogg paused, a satisfied tone now underlying the chant. Just as the apprentice seemed to become accustomed to the intruder in his body, Maogg began moving again. He continued with long slow strokes, outward until only the head was still inside the tight opening, then in again until his heavy balls slapped the tender flesh. On the sixth stroke he reached around and released the cloth strip around Obi-Wan's cock and balls.

~ There is no emotion, there is peace
there is no passion, there is serenity.... ~

"Oh Force, it hurts...," he whimpered softly.

Blocking out the lewd calls of encouragement from the guards and other prisoners, Obi-Wan tried to stay relaxed to reduce the burning sensation in his ass. The huge cock filled Obi-Wan's guts, feeling like it was splitting him in two. On the down stroke when he was completely filled, the coarse pubic hair and hot flesh were painful reminders of the beating he had endured earlier. Obi-Wan knew the clansman was trying to be relatively gentle but it still hurt, and his efforts to distance himself from the unwanted invasion of his body were not very successful. The sudden rush of additional blood to his engorged cock when the cloth ring was released was a welcome distraction. He felt the chant become even more urgent as the clansman began to shorten his strokes and make them more forceful and frequent. When Maogg shifted his position to scrape across Obi-Wan's prostrate, he was able to release himself more fully into the ritual, especially when the clansman started to fist the Jedi's cock.

~ No emotion...peace...no passion...Master...s. ~ Conscious thought was rapidly giving way to hot driving reaction.

Both men began to sweat as the chant's intensity continued to increase. Obi-Wan slipped down to rest his head on his forearms as the big man began pounding rapidly into him. He began thrusting forward into the tight hand on his cock and backward onto the invading column. Time seemed to be suspended and there was only the pounding and heat, blood roaring in his ears, musk heavy in his nostrils, pinpoints of light beginning to flicker on the back of his closed eyelids. There was a moaning and sobbing that Obi-Wan vaguely recognized as coming from his own throat.

With a final cycle of rapid thrusts and a shout of triumph, Maogg drove both men to ejaculation. Obi-Wan felt the hot liquid pumping into his guts at the same time as a stream of his own thick semen spurted out over the fist that still enclosed his turgid shaft. Two large hands held his hips; he could feel the hot cock in his ass slowly softening as he heard Maogg change to a different chant. He felt a surge of disgust at his own participation and regret for his lost virginity in this shameful way. His last coherent thought was a final cry of despair, ~ Master, I'm so sorry. ~

The white light streamed into the cold cell, still falling directly on the two men inside. Maogg looked up to the Mother, his spirit filled with the warmth and approval he felt from her. He held Obi-Wan's hips up, his slowly softening cock still fully embedded, as he finished the ritual with the short chant of thanks for the Mother's blessing. Finally complete, he pulled out, a sticky string of white semen oozing from the Jedi's body as he let him collapse forward onto the mattress. Ignoring the sarcastic cheers and catcalls from the slowly dispersing audience, he cleaned himself up, pleased to see that there was no blood on his cock. He pulled the semiconscious Obi-Wan to his feet, half carrying him as he steered him over to the sink and cleaned him up, then put him in bed after assuring himself there were no serious injuries. The clansman finished by throwing the mattress back onto the empty bunk, then slid naked beneath the blankets, spooning behind the silent Jedi with a happy grunt of pleasure at the skin to skin contact. It had been a good taking, a good offering, and the Mother was very pleased. Caressing the young man's face, he frowned briefly as he wiped away hot tears, then dismissed the pity. The Jedi was young and his will to survive was strong; he would get over it. Maogg smiled as he draped a possessive arm over the naked body in front of him and drifted off in satisfied sleep.

On to part 2...