Qui Gon sighed. His apprentice was in the bathroom, again. He knew that he had been fourteen once, but for the life of him he could not remember being this enchanted with his own dick. Mace's maybe, but not his own. Perhaps that is what Obi Wan needed, a boy his own age who was willing to play with it for him. He began running through a mental list of the sexually compatible Padawans Obi's age, wondering if he dared approach any of their masters. Abruptly, Qui Gon realized that he was giving this thought far more attention than it merited. It was his job to teach Obi Wan, not procure sex partners for him. Still, it might make the teaching easier....
"Obi Wan," he called, not for the first time.
"Almost ready, Master," came the reply, in a voice a little higher than normal.
'Yes, I can tell.' Qui Gon thought to himself. Feeling proud of himself, he resisted the urge to send his frustration and annoyance along his link to Obi Wan. A moment later it was over. 'About time,' Qui Gon thought. 'Perhaps I should tell him that if he indulged less frequently it would take less time.'
Obi Wan came bouncing out of the bathroom, looking for all of the world like he had not just kept his master waiting while he played pet the Wookie. Qui Gon glared at him. "Get your lightsaber." 'Your other lightsaber,' he thought to himself, "and lets go."
All innocence, Obi Wan simply said, "Yes, Master."
Lightsaber practice went well. Obi Wan already mastering the series of movements he had begun only two days before. Qui Gon had to admit that Obi Wan had outstanding physical skills. When his adolescent awkwardness was behind him he would be a formidable swordsman.
As they walked toward the bathing area, Qui Gon complimented Obi Wan on his performance. The boy glowed with pleasure at the praise. The practice session pushed Qui Gon's earlier frustrations with his apprentice from his mind, until they reached the showers. Standing under the bristling hot water, letting it wash away the sweat and dust, Qui Gon detected an unpleasant emotion coming from his Padawan -- envy. He chanced a quick sidewise glance at Obi Wan. Yes, the boy was definitely staring at his member. Inwardly, Qui Gon shuddered. 'Not again. First Xanatos, now Obi Wan. Why, oh why, couldn't they grasp the idea of proportion? Yes, his penis was large, but so were his feet. And no one envied him those.' Remembering a particularly limber dancing girl he'd met on Amosen Four, perhaps they should. 'Yes, she had had a decided fondness for his feet.' Recalling that he was not alone, he squelched the thought. Thinking of her now would only make Obi's envy worse. Flaccid, he was large, but erect he was formidable. The sight would not help Obi Wan.
Turning off the water and wrapping a towel around himself, he sighed. He had already lost one apprentice to the darkside. He did not want to lose this one as well. Xanatos' envy of his master had been his undoing. He had to find a way to convince Obi Wan that his penis was perfectly adequate. Then again, Obi Wan was better endowed than Xanatos, so maybe he would not be as troubled by the comparison as Xanatos had been. Besides, Xanatos had never cared for Yoda, never really taken to heart the Master's axiom that "size matters not." Qui Gon snorted. Some in the temple even believed that Yoda was referring to height. Obi Wan hung on Yoda's every word. Perhaps that would be enough. He would wait and see, maybe this situation did not need direct intervention, after all. Patience was a Jedi's ally, as much as the Force. Especially when avoidance of "the talk" could be classified as being patient. As he dressed, Qui Gon looked at his apprentice, still in the shower, with his back to Qui Gon. 'I just hope he doesn't decide that yanking on it will make it grow.'
Obi Wan hoped that Qui Gon had not noticed his staring. He had been naked around his master many times, but had never paid much attention to his Master's member. He was usually too busy watching his muscles. He sincerely hoped that someday he would possess the same grace and power as his beautiful Master. But today, he had noticed. It was, well, large, very large. He was amazed that he hadn't paid attention to it before now. It really was difficult not to notice.
"I'll wait for you outside, Padawan."
"I won't be long, Master." 'In more ways than one,' he thought to himself.
"Be sure that you are not."
He sighed miserably. Someday he might have some of the grace and power Qui Gon had, but he would never have a cock like that. Of course, he was bigger than Bruck, a fact which never failed to brighten his day, even if it had contributed to the other boy's animosity toward him. Then he brightened further, remembering the advertisement he had seen in the back of "Humanoid Hustler." Turning off the water, he dressed hurriedly, parts of him still damp.
His quick appearance in the hallway clearly surprised his Master. Briefly, he wondered if Qui Gon was aware of what was keeping him in the bathroom so frequently these days. 'He can't be,' Obi Wan thought desperately. Then he reminded himself that Qui Gon had been his age once upon a time and probably knew far too well. No, that didn't seem possible. Qui Gon would never do something so...base, never stroke his own gimmer stick. Obi Wan wasn't even certain Qui Gon would allow someone else to stroke it for him. Qui Gon was smirking at him. Hastily, Obi Wan checked his shields, fearing that perhaps Qui Gon had picked up on his thoughts. The laughter showing in Qui Gon's eyes was not reassuring and Obi Wan turned hastily away.
For just an instant Qui Gon considered reassuring his Padawan that he too had played "stroke the gimmer stick." Still did, occasionally. More frequently now that Obi Wan's incessant indulgence in the practice and inability to keep his feelings from crossing their bond was keeping him awake at night, and alternately distracted and annoyed at various other times during the day. But to admit such a thing to his apprentice was simply too much a violation of his dignity. Silently, he followed Obi Wan back to their quarters. Not for the first time he questioned the wisdom of having apprentices live with their masters.
The next couple of days were quieter. Qui Gon was relieved that Obi Wan appeared to be contenting himself with choking the Padawan just twice a day now. For Qui Gon it was a welcome relief. He had also not sensed any more feelings of envy in his Padawan and was beginning to think that his choice to be patient and evade his responsibility had indeed been the right one. Then the United Republic Postal Service (URPS for short) delivery, um, person arrived. It's green tentacles poked out of odd places in the brown uniform they were all required to wear, humanoid or not.
"Excuse me, Jedi, Sir, I have a delivery for an," it looked at the tag on the brown package, at least Qui Gon thought it did, "Obi Wan Kenobi." Catching sight of the plain brown wrapper on the package, Qui Gon shuddered inwardly. 'I knew I should have gotten rid of those copies of Humanoid Hustler.'
Turning, he called for his apprentice, "Obi Wan. You have a," he paused the merest fraction of a second, "delivery."
Obi Wan came to the door, attempting to be nonchalant. Of course, it would arrive while Qui Gon was here. He never had any luck. Trying very hard to pretend that he had nothing to be embarrassed about, Obi Wan accepted the package. Thanking the delivery, er, person, he headed for his room, attempting to hurry without appearing to.
"Obi Wan."
His master's voice brought him to a halt. "Yes, master." He didn't turn around, hoping that if he kept his back to his master the conversation would be shorter.
"Enjoy your package."
"Uhhh, Yes, Uhhh, I will. Uhhh, Thank you, master." He stumbled into his room, heart racing. Qui Gon was definitely amused. He hadn't fooled him one whit. Thankful that there was no way Qui Gon could know exactly what he had purchased, he sat on the bed and began to open his package.
Qui Gon watched the door close and wondered exactly what was in that package. A holovid perhaps? No, not after the incident with the bantha vid. A device of some kind, that made the most sense. 'Good,' he thought, 'perhaps mechanical aid would decrease the amount of time Obi Wan was spending tugging the braid.' Part of his mind suggested that given the direction Master/Padawan relationships so frequently took he might someday regret wanting Obi Wan to learn to come quickly. Ah, well, it was a habit that could be unlearned when the time came. For now he was increasing the strength of his shields.
Obi Wan sat reading the directions for his new, umm, toy.
Obi Wan glanced down the list of species, looking for the directions for humans.
That was reassuring. Surely they would not offer to give your money back if it didn't work. He continued to scan down the page.
Blindness? Unnatural hair growth? Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all. Ahh, there it was, the directions for humans, page 12. Hastily he flipped through the small booklet.
1. Select circular adjustable tube B. Do
not use any other tube or attachment* as permanent damage may result.
'What's a Gungan? And why do they want larger tongues?' he wondered vaguely, before resuming his reading.
2. Attach to motor at opening C.**
The repetition of the phrase "Accepts no responsibility for resulting damage" was beginning to worry him. He pushed his worry aside. He was a Jedi. More than a match for any mechanical device.
3. Adjust tube to appropriate length and
width.
4. Press on button.
Obi Wan did so.
At the sound of the motor, Qui Gon decided that he needed to be elsewhere.
Obi Wan was so caught up in his new toy that he did not hear the knock on the door of their quarters.
Master Yoda stood outside Qui Gon's door, wondering why Obi Wan did not answer. Maybe the boy was hurt. He stretched out with the force, enhancing his senses. There was no mistaking the distinctive sound of Galactic Get-Offs Patented Self-Powered Motor. He sighed. He should have known better than to allow Qui Gon to take another human male as an apprentice. Their inevitable intimidation at his considerable size invariably led to the dark side. Master Yoda had believed Obi Wan to be a smart enough young man to realize the limitations of excessive girth, but clearly he had been wrong. Shaking his head, Yoda opened the door.
The opening of his bedroom door nearly prevented Obi Wan's orgasm. But he was too far gone. As he registered Yoda's presence, Obi Wan decided that he wanted to die. No matter how long he lived, he knew he would never again be as humiliated as he was at that moment, sitting on the edge of his bed with his pants around his knees, and holding a hot pink tube over his dick.
"Padawan Kenobi, disappointed in you I am." Obi Wan groaned, not with pleasure. "Have you heeded nothing that I have said? For a Jedi, with the force as his ally, SIZE MATTERS NOT." Yoda pounded his gimmer stick on the ground for emphasis.
"Yes, Master Yoda," Obi Wan responded miserably, looking for something he could discreetly use for cover.
"Work not these devices do. Know, I should." Obi Wan shuddered at the thought of Yoda with a device similar to the one currently dangling slightly above the floor between his legs. "Studied this I have. For more than 700 years." He moved toward the bed and whispered conspiratorially, "With a cock like that, always on bottom Qui Gon is. Frighten women he does. Even among Jedi, few have the courage to take something that big. Enough lube on all of Coruscant, there is not." Yoda winked, "Happier with what you have, you will be."
Then he turned and left.
Stunned, Obi Wan considered Master Yoda's words. Qui Gon, a bottom? Finding the thought unbearably exciting Obi Wan reached for the on button.
DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction written in appreciation of Star Wars; to promote the franchise and to keep it alive. All characters and settings original to Star Wars are copyright to Lucasfilm, Ltd. The rest is copyright to the author.