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Darth Maul's Revenge

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Obi-Wan breathes in deeply, meditating on a disturbance he has sensed in the Force. While there is trouble in seemingly every corner of the galaxy, he reaches out to the Outer Rim for the flicker bothering him in particular. He’s concerned to find it seemingly so familiar. Scanning for what may be the cause, he sees only dim lighting, like some kind of underground tunnel and rubble in every corner of his vision. Then, a dark chuckle reverberates through his eardrums from deep in someone’s chest, and Obi-Wan shuts down. Ripping himself from the meditation, he’s disturbed at what he has heard and even further at his lack of control to his own reaction. What was this trash heap? What could be happening in a junk yard? Perhaps mining by the Separatists to produce more droids for the war? No, that didn’t make sense. It would be rock and dirt, not refuse.

Rather than worsening the issue, Obi-Wan elects to calm himself. It was late enough to meditate a while before just a few short hours of sleep – and Kenobi very much needed to relax. He closes his eyes again to find that peaceful grove in his mind. Inhaling as the night sky is dotted with all of the constellations he remembers and exhaling as if to breathe life into the shrubs and flowers surrounding the soft patch of grass. The air smells sweet with the fresh blossoms and Obi-Wan digs his fingers into the earth as he grounds himself to this state of serenity. “Jedi are calm and in control,” he whispers to himself, “I am calm and in control.” While he desperately tried to mean it, Obi-Wan knew, as he pictured his dear apprentice’s face, he was struggling with qualities of the Sith – lust and fear – and this desperately had to be stopped.

His apprentice came to him late in training. Their master had been lost to this war, and the Council decided that since Anakin had an apprentice of his own already that Obi-Wan should look after them and finish their teachings. Obi-Wan was, of course, exhausted by the idea of another student to tend to and tame for years to come, but there was no option to refuse. Essentially Anakin’s current age, they impressed Obi-Wan with their discipline, dedication, and enormous skill. So attentive, so eager to learn, and one of the best strategists the Republic had seen in a while. There was a brightness to their eyes when the two spoke together, and Obi-Wan adored it. However, his delight was unforgivably inappropriate. Kenobi knew this. That didn’t change his shameful desires or the fact that he’d given in more than once to entertain those very urges while alone in his bed at night. It was usually enough to satiate his desires for at least a little while…though those guilty pleasures had significantly diminishing returns. Obi-Wan sighed, unable to clear his mind of the stress, now fixated once again by his darling apprentice and the shape of their lips.

Pretending he needed a break from dissecting the pieces of the vision, Obi-Wan let himself imagine how soft those lips were. Trying to convince himself that he has to confront and understand his desires before he overcomes them, Obi-Wan tries to shrug off the guilt his lust is chained to. Such a warm smile his apprentice has, and a voice like milk and honey to make them all the more inviting. Desperate to know if their mouth is as talented as the rest of them, he fantasizes about the younger Jedi on their knees at his lap. Rubbing himself through his loose trousers, Kenobi teases at that ache growing more fervent inside him. He shut his eyes and presses his back against the headboard, deftly unclipping his belt to open his pants. Pulling his cock out like he was presenting it to his apprentice, Kenobi hesitates for just a moment, half hoping they were really here, before he strokes himself again. He imagines his hand cupping his padawan’s jaw and slowly stroking his thumb over their bottom lip just before running his hand through their hair. He fantasizes guiding those tantalizing lips to the tip of his now hardened cock. Picturing their eyes gazing up at him as they take his head in their mouth, Kenobi squeezes harder as he concentrates on the tip of his cock. Throbbing and aching already, he speeds up his long strokes and bucks his hips instinctively.

Soon, his dry hand isn’t enough to keep the fantasy of his apprentice’s sweet little mouth vivid in his mind. Obi-Wan spits into his palm and massages the sticky liquid over the head of his cock, bringing the wetness of his padawan’s mouth back into his fantasy. He tilts his head back and bites his lip to quiet a grunt as he slips deeper into his vision of the younger Jedi before him. Lips parted and taking in half of his length, their tongue so hot and wet – massaging the underside of his shaft as their head bobs in that sinfully pleasing rhythm. They have one hand stroking from the base of his cock and the other cupping his balls gently without squeezing. So attentive, so lost in their Master, and he wants more. Would they serve a lover so well as they do the Force? Gently, Kenobi takes the wrist of their hand stroking him and pulls it up to his chest. He’s tingling as they meet his gaze and he tilts his head to encourage them to keep going. One hand on his dear apprentice’s hand and the other on the back of their head, Kenobi bucks deeper into their mouth and into their throat. He loves the way that threshold feels, and he does it over and over just teasing into their throat. He can feel tears warm his groin as the choking affects his apprentice, and he gives them a moment. They don’t even look up, they just force his member back into the depths of their throat, desperate for him as he is in return. Nails digging into his chest, he squeezes their hand and moans about how they’re so good, so perfect, and realizes he’s shaking he’s so close to orgasm. Obi-Wan is bucking and moaning now. Precum drips out of his head, and Obi-Wan rubs the hot, slick liquid over his head and down his shaft. He places his hand on the side of his padawan’s face, fingers curling to the back of their neck. He tilts their face to focus his eyes on theirs and pulls close to have as much of him inside as possible at that angle. The hum of their surprise and moans make it so much better and Kenobi throws his head back as he pleas their name loudly. Nails digging into his chest and a flush of heat cutting through his body, Obi-Wans thrusts forcefully, desperate for climax. Guttural moans and ragged breathing pour from his mouth. Right there, the tip of his cock pushed into their throat and the base wet with his little apprentice’s drool, and he knows he’s about to cum. Looking down at those wide eyes, shining wet with tears, Obi-Wan spasms over and over while he cums down their throat. They gag and cough while he lets out a long, deep moan, enraptured in his release. Obi-Wan’s grip on their neck loosens in his bliss, and his apprentice pulls back, overwhelmed by their Master’s cum in their throat. They rose too quickly and fall back. As Obi-Wan’s hooded eyes open, his fantasy fades away, and he feels the mess he’s made of his hand.

You sit up breathing in a shriek, coughing and looking around madly for the presence you’d sensed choking you. You’d been having no dream you remember, but your thoughts cling to the familiarity of the presence. You could breathe fine now, and no one was in sight. You lie back down and roll over, pulling the blanket around your neck. Confused and upset to awake in the night yet again, you shut your eyes tight and try to go back to sleep. Flashes of terrible memories. You open your eyes again blinking away your old Master’s face. Losing them was terrible, and you had suffered loss of sleep many nights since.

It was not the Jedi way to cling to these things, so you tried to focus on what was here. Your duties to the Republic and the Jedi Council were constant and reassuring in there consistency. They need all of you, and it’s fulfilling to be fully devoted to the Order, to peace. You focus on the softness of your bedding, how gentle the silky fabric feels against your skin. Everything is fine, and you’re safe. The Jedi Council guides you. The troopers you fight with rely on you and protect you. Master Kenobi was here to teach and protect you. Your heart flutters at remembering his praise from earlier. During a meeting with Mace Windu and Master Kenobi, you plotted the course for the next battle to free up a resource blockade against one of the smaller planets still neutral in the war. You had worked so hard to be the young Jedi you were today. Tireless studying history, strategy, and the like to be a soldier when needed, but meditating and mastering the Force to ensure you would still be useful when the war was over. You wanted to serve the people of the galaxy, as there was so much pain and suffering. You hoped that the Jedi were those to restore balance and bring peace.

You’d given these hopeful monologues more than once in your Master’s presence. Whenever he would chide you for not pushing yourself hard enough in training, you lost it. How could you be accused of not working hard or performing your best? You know it’s not right to question your Master, so you do always try not to let the passive and snide remarks get to you, but occasionally you broke. You told him your goals and reminded him of your determination. There was always this cheeky look in his eye that he was excited you were telling him off. You hated inferring without enough context but told yourself that he tormented you this way to make you more outspoken. He goaded you into being more than a vessel for combat and the Force. He made you express passion and anger, but why? Why would he evoke these things? As a Jedi, you are to be the epitome of tranquility and calmness, a perfect example of harmony. Nothing should rile you. Yet, your Master always seems to be pressing your buttons. It seemed to be the hallmark of Master Obi-Wan’s teachings, as Anakin and his own padawan, Ahsokha, were always vocal about their opinions and provoking others too. The Council would not have put you under Master Obi-Wan’s charge if it were not the best decision. Perhaps they were testing your patience. It seems like you’re always guessing at what they want. The ways of the Force were never clear and concise, just like the intent of your Masters.

Despite how infuriating he could be, you did admire Master Obi-Wan. He had given so much of his life taking care of others and had become quite a Master among the Jedi. You felt safe and protected when he was around, as he was always so attentive to you and pushing for you to be the best version of yourself constantly. With that comfort, and thoughts of your former Master’s demise fading, you fell back asleep.

Morning came with that incessant ringing from across the room. Sure, it was your room and your idea to put the alarm on the other side, but you still condemned whoever had done this to you each morning. Clicking the alarm off triggered the lamps to their lowest setting, which filled the room with a soft, amber light. In your dreary state, you shuffled around getting ready. A pair of thick tights, a long tunic, robes over them, and a belt to hold it all against you. All neutral tones and soft as can be. Being a Jedi wasn’t fashionable, but you hadn’t worn clothes less than completely comfortable in years. You strode to a bowl of fruit and plucked the ripest banana from the bunch as a pre-meditation snack, eating it on the way to the garden.

Legs crossed, eyes closed, and breath steady – you’re one with the Force, and the Force is with you. All is still and silent in these wee hours of the morning, and it’s the only time you can meditate uninterrupted by the commotion of the politicians and Jedi that seem to constantly bustle around.
“Were you planning on being late to our training this morning, my young padawan?”
You reluctantly open one eye, only to confirm to Master Kenobi that you’ve heard him. “Master, how am I supposed to be a protector of peace if I have no idea what it’s like?” you snip at him for interrupting you when you know you have 45 minutes before training should begin. He chuckles at your annoyance and takes a seat directly in front of you, knees almost touching. Your eyes linger on the closeness for barely a moment before you lock eyes with Obi-Wan. “Has the time changed, or is our lesson in 45 minutes?” He tsks at you and responds, “You’ve been at this longer than you think, padawan,” he opens a comm unit that displays the time to you, “So I’d appreciate if we got started.” You stand immediately, embarrassed by your remark, and bow to apologize. When Kenobi stands and raises a hand briefly to stretch, you raise your chin reflexively, expecting a blow to the cheek for your punishment, but no such landing. In silence, you blink once and cough, asking what he has planned for training this morning.
Obi-Wan can’t help but notice the way his apprentice’s knee grazed his and then the slight tilt of the chin when they stood almost chest to chest. Surely they’re not harboring the same desires? He inhales, basking in the delightful scent of his apprentice mixed with the honeysuckle washing powder the Republic supplies to most of the Jedi. Obi-wan always opted for a cedar blend, as he preferred the musk and wood smell to the soft blossom scent, but on his padawan? He adored it now, wondering if there was any leftover in his quarters.

Mace Windu comes into view and Obi-Wan is surprised he did not sense his presence beforehand. He’s more enraptured by his padawan than he should be. Kenobi takes a step back and greet Master Windu, surprised to see him here at this time of day.

“Kenobi, the Council needs to meet immediately. There is treachery on Mandalore, and we fear the worst for its people.” Obi-Wan was paralyzed. The Duchess Satine was his closest friend in his youth, and he’d harbored feelings for her before his padawan came into his life. Still, she meant so much to him. Satine would always sit on the pedestal of what could have been.

The Council gathers to decide whether or not to intervene with the happenings on Mandalore. Darth Maul has taken over with the help of his growing crime syndicate, Shadow Collective. Obi-Wan, not half the man he wishes to be, doesn’t utter a word. He knows that he is too conflicted to provide unbiased feedback. He fears the Council senses it – the stench of fear and affection on him. Kenobi shifts in his seat, pretending to be intently listening to Master Yoda’s argument for neutrality.
“Neutral is Mandalore, so neutral must we be.” Yoda states, followed by much agreeable murmuring from the rest of the Council. Obi-Wan purposefully breathes slowly to keep his heartrate low – he knows the others would notice if he became enraged. Eyes shift his way despite his best efforts, and Obi-Wan chimes in, “I agree. We cannot spare resources to those who do not agree with our cause. They prefer their independence no matter the cost. We must respect their wishes.” Eyes move back to Master Yoda, and Obi-Wan exhales in relief. He’s satisfied their requirement for indifference for now. The guilt of his hesitation already eating away at him, Kenobi wishes to return to his apprentice.

You tidy up your quarters after Master Kenobi is summoned to speak with the Council. You sensed a great conflict in him as he treaded behind Master Windu and hoped he was free of his burden by the time he next saw you. You found yourself distracted as well, despite your best efforts to focus on your cleaning.
Ah, there’s that troublesome ache again. You occasionally felt this need inside – It was a need of the body, not the soul. And you know Jedi were not to indulge in the wants of the body alone. It pulsed and writhed through you, soaking into your underwear as you desperately tried to move on to your tasks. Nipples hardening under your tunic, you feel the lust engulf you. Your breathing is heavy and shallow, and you bite your lip in that fit of anguish. You know what this is, you’re not stupid, but you also know that this is not for Jedi. You pull off your clothes, as they’re too constricting and stimulating in this moment. Each brush of the fabric against your seems to tease you just a bit more into that desperate state.

Cold shower. You need a cold shower and to meditate. You can beat this. You can be the perfect Jedi. Part of you wanted to ask Master Kenobi how he refrains from such base urges, but you’d be too embarrassed to admit your struggle. Losing the respect of your Masters is far worse than this shame currently sowing lust in your very veins. You start the shower, the water hitting your skin with an icy, stinging shock. You close your eyes to mediate, but your thoughts drift back to your early days studying as a Jedi, and the memory overtakes you.

She smells like roses and cardamom and tastes just as sweet. Back where you were in initial training, some of the recruits would take their frustrations and temptations out on each other. In those hushed moments away from supervision, you’d take solace in your fellow students and indulge in pleasures you’d never even dare to think about in your Master’s presence. She was your favorite to be alone with. Aola, a short Twi’Lek about your age, was a sight to behold, even for one living life in abstinence. Her green skin tasted salty as you moved her lekku to free more of her neck to your needy lips. Fingers in each other’s trousers, you kiss to muffle the whine of your mutual aching. It’s sloppy and wet, but neither of you mind. You press her back into the wall and snake your free hand up her tunic to pinch at her nipples. You like the way she writhes under your touch, and caressing her sides always makes her squirm in delight. She’s so taken aback she stops fingering you, and that’s how you know she’s enjoying it. Distracting her with overbearing pleasure – oh, that was your favorite. You push her down by her hip and lay her on the bare ground. She looks around quickly to ensure no one can see the two of you behind the far off tent. When her eyes meet you again, desperate and begging, you know no one is watching. You rip her trousers down and place a hand over her mouth so she has something to moan into as your lips meet her soaking cunt. Two fingers push inside to Aola’s delight and you lick a pointed tongue up her folds. She squirms and places her own hands over yours to muffle that desperate moan your efforts elicit. Massaging her clit in circles with the tip of your tongue and fingers pulling her apart from within, you use the force to tease at her nipples. You pinch them just hard enough to feel her back arch and she pulls one of your fingers into her mouth, licking and sucking in that tantalizing way she does. When she’s this close you know she likes it faster, but you can’t help but want to live in this moment. Her wet cunt covering your face in her slick and her body unravelling at your every movement… it’s too good to let go. You use the Force to pleasure yourself too. Pinching at your lower lips and filling you up as sweet little Aola is too overwhelmed by your touch to be of any assistance. You love the way she can’t seem to get enough. She’s bucking and mentally begging you to go faster and she’s too desperate to ask anything but please, please. Her desperate sucking on your finger, her sweaty skin, you know she’s on another world entirely. Despite your holding back, she bucks her hips into you and tightens around your fingers, signaling she’s coming undone. You can’t deny her – you pump your fingers faster, lick her clit just a little harder, and keep at her nipples with the Force just like she likes. You fuck yourself faster, hoping to meet her intensity as you drive her over the edge. With your hand on her check except your thumb in her mouth, she clenches around your hand and her toned thighs shake as she cums. You look up, taking her in, and she’s so pretty when she’s like this. You bask in her vulnerability, her helplessness, as for at least this moment, she belongs to you. With that sweet taste of her on your tongue and the knowledge that you brought her to her own personal peace, the ache in your body crests. Every nerve is on fire and your muscles tense in unison, you finish too, gripping tightly at Aola. It starts just in your lower half, but quickly feels like it’s holding every part of you, your orgasm rocking each muscle into submission. You feel her squirm under your touch, exhausted by your toying with her and too worn out to fend off your forceful gripping. You moan into her aching cunt, and she runs her fingers through your hair. You exhale in relief when it rides out, looking up into Aola’s hooded eyes, and you’re both satisfied for now.

Cold water is still falling on your naked body, and you wonder how long you’ve been in the shower. You stand and wash, lathering the guilt from your body. You push thoughts of Aola away as you rinse clean and turn off the water, hoping to end the obsession. However, that ache is still there, despite its dulling. You lay down to rest, as the sun has somehow gone down already. Wrapping blankets tightly around your bare skin and hoping Master Kenobi doesn’t know of your treachery, you close your eyes to get some sleep.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan paces his quarters, restless with worry and conflict. The news of Satine’s eminent danger has been so upsetting, and he is forbidden from intervening because of the Council. He knows he needs to sit, calm himself, and let go of these feelings of affection and protectiveness. His duties are to the Republic, the Jedi Order, and democracy - not the duchess he knows he’s too fearful to pursue.
A knock at the door – “What now?” Obi-Wan thinks to himself as he clicks the button to allow access. It’s Anakin in all black, and he looks up to no good, as usual. “What in the stars are you doing here this late?” Anakin opens a hollo-message, and it’s Satine pleading for her people. She on her knees in front of the recorder, but she doesn’t seem to be speaking to it. “Please, take my life if it spares my people. Please, I –“ she’s cut off by a hard slap to the face. It knocks her over, leaving a welt on her cheek. A sinister voice comes out from behind the recorder, “Come and get her Kenobi, you should know where to find us by now.” The hologram cuts out, returning the room to darkness. Obi-Wan’s face is drained as he lifts his gaze to meet Anakin, speechless. “We have to help her, we have to protect all of them,” Anakin insists, as he puts away his comm unit.
“Anakin, the Council.. They’ve already decided. We can’t intervene.”
“Oh, so you’re going to leave her to die and the rest of her people to suffer as slaves?!”
“I just.. We shouldn’t get involved Anakin. We’re needed here.”
“Well I’m going to Mandalore, Master. With or without you.”
“He’s not on Mandalore. He’s taking her to the Outer Rim, I know it. I’ve seen it.”
“Then go get her. Mandalore needs their leader. I’ll head to Mandalore with Ahsoka to protect the people still there. There must be enforcers, otherwise it wouldn’t be much of a coup.”
“I..I’ll find Satine and restore her to her people.”
“Let’s go – NOW.”
Obi-Wans finds his senses and packs a quick bag. Hand on his lightsaber to check it’s still beside him, he rushes to your room. The door is unlocked, and he barges in to let you know he’s leaving immediately.


You shot up, terrified of the sudden intruder and use the Force to flip the switch to turn on the dim lights. Master Kenobi’s face is illuminated in the amber glow, and you sigh in relief that you’re not being attacked.
His cheeks burn red as his eyes dart down and then immediately back up, as you realize you’re still indecent from the shower. He doesn’t turn, but makes hard eye contact with you instead. You pull up the blanket and stand, asking what he’s doing here in the middle of the night.

“I’m going to rescue the leader of Mandalore, Duchess Satine, from the hands of Darth Maul. It’s my doing that he’s loose and waging war, as I neglected to fully eliminate when he murdered my own Master. I have to right this wrong, for the galaxy, for peace.”
“Let me come with you, Master. You shouldn’t go alone.”
“I’m afraid there isn’t time. I must leave now, and you are not ready.”
“Master, please, I-“
“Silence,” Obi-Wan cuts you off and tears sting in your eyes as he turns away from you. “I only came to say good-bye, padawan.”
His lack of belief in you cuts deep as he walks away. You think to yourself, “Am I not skilled enough? Disciplined enough? Am I being punished?” The thoughts reel in your mind as you fall back into bed, devastated at your master’s lack of belief. He didn’t trust you there to keep him safe? He didn’t even want you there to observe and learn? You must really be worthless in his eyes.

You bite your lip, gritting your teeth in anger and resentment. You try your best, and this is your repayment – it’s always your repayment with the Jedi masters. You throw yourself into your studies while he is away, determined to be a model pupil upon his return. You wake before dawn to meditate, practice your forms for hours on end, fast until evenings to increase your focus, and even study the ancient texts in search of enlightenment. Days pass, and no word from your master. You assume he doesn’t wish to update you and you persist in your training.

Obi-Wan had been scourging the Outer Rim to find the source of his troubling vision only to be drawn to the junk planet of Lotho Minor. He felt so foolish as to not have seen it before feeling as if his connection to the Force is clouded by his stress and conflictions. Upon landing, Kenobi finds the landscape harsh and difficult to navigate. Despite the obstacles, he treads on, searching for Duchess Satine so he can restore her to her people and forget his ache for her entirely.

In the night, he makes camp alone out of sight of the looming adversaries. This wretched place houses more than the psycho he chases, as monsters swim through the debris, hunting for live flesh to devour. He chews at a field ration, eyes fixated on the flicker of the flames of his small campfire. Obi-Wan wonders why he came alone, only to envision his dear apprentice meeting harm… he couldn’t take even the thought. He needed to protect them, and this was no place for those he wanted to keep safe. That’s why he just needed to find Satine and leave this horrible planet. He willed it into existence. He could save her and move past this – past all of this longing and ache of duty to protect her. He could put this past behind him with this act of heroism and forget her, like any good Jedi would. Obi-Wan bit his tongue in his anger at himself. His attachment to his lifelong friend and the over-familiarity with his apprentice were ruining him.

He looked up at the stars and decided to meditate, hoping for clarity and peace within.

Obi-Wan awoke to horror and confusion, as he found his limbs were bound and his lightsaber missing. He had been captured during his meditation, likely influenced by the other Force user holding him. His foolishness knew no bounds, and he looked up, squinting into the light, to realize Satine was chained opposite him in white void of a cell.

“Satine,” he whispered, “are you okay?”

She looked up, face pale and gaunt, at Kenobi. Her lip quivered as tears flowed from her piercing blue eyes, the skin around them blackened by beatings from her captor. She whispered in a raspy voice alien to her usually smooth tone, “Neither of us is, Obi-Wan.”

A loud thud emanates from across the cell and a mechanical door slinks open and then shut immediately. Satine’s eyes are on the floor as she noticeably becomes smaller, shrinking away from the new presence. Though it’s not quite new.. Obi-Wan knows that Darth Maul is here. He lifts his gaze to confirm and shouts into the echoey chamber, “Let Satine return to her people. It’s me you want to punish, Maul.”

A low chuckle, sadistic and long, reverberates throughout the room. Darth Maul lowers his hood and stares at Obi-Wan with piercing yellow eyes and a smirk. “Now is that how you’d greet an old friend, Kenobi? After I’ve spent so much time and energy to arrange our reunion?”


You gasp for air as you’ve run your final lap of the exercise. Heart pounding in your ears, it hammers away as you chug the cold water of your canteen.

Master Obi-Wan had been gone for over a week now, and you were beginning to worry more than ever. The Council had raised concerns and questioned you on Master Kenobi’s, Anakin’s, and Ahsoka’s sudden absences, but you were successful in persuading them that they shared no plans with you, as you would have come along to aid your master in any errand he sought fit. Despite your master’s sudden abandonment, you sensed he was in need of your help.

Before you could sow doubt to this feeling, you marched straight to your closet and grabbed a bag. Piling in changes of clothes, rations, fruits for breakfast, and some toiletries, you made your bed before heading to the hanger. It’s late and there aren’t many people around to question – not that many did when it came to Jedi needing to suddenly take off in the middle of the night – so you easily slip into a G-9 just like the one you assume Anakin and Ahsoka took. Course set for Mandalore, and you’re on your way.

Satine is whimpering while she bleeds from her nose and mouth. Unfortunately, strikes to her face are only the beginning of her captor’s fun. She sputters and drops her head, exhausted already and in so much pain.
“Look at her Kenobi, quivering like a little mouse.” Maul stands behind the duchess, stroking her cheek and taunting Obi-Wan. Maul grips her chin and forces her to look up and lock eyes with her oldest friend just a few feet away. Obi-Wan grits his teeth at the view, furious at her blackened eye and bloodied nose. This is his fault. He should have protected her, and now she’s suffering. Not only her, but her people too; what would become of them all? The rage emanates off of him in waves, fully palpable to the Sith lord, and it makes Darth Maul chuckle to sense it. “My, my. She really does rip all of those precious little Jedi beliefs right out of you, doesn’t she Kenobi?” He goads Obi-Wan more, trying to tease a response out of him. After all of that time stranded and wanting only revenge on his attempted killer, Maul relishes every second of this. He’s prepared to take his time – to see Obi-Wan break in the ways that he did.

“Tell me Kenobi, what does this little mouse mean to you?” He pulls at Satine’s hair, and she immediately wails and cries for him to stop. Her struggling is met with a tighter grip at her scalp and a hard smack to the face. Maul doesn’t break eye contact with Obi-Wan as he covers her mouth, smearing blood along her cheek, and waits for a response.

Obi-Wan is pained and he tries to ignore the cruel display in front of him as he plans a way to leave this place. His thoughts immediately move to his padawan, terrified they’ll come to his aid. They couldn’t save both he and Satine against Maul, and they’d only endanger themselves if they arrived. He quickly recovers, not wanting to alert Maul to his wandering mind, and thinks again to his own escape plan to form. Satine won’t last long in his clutches, so he’ll have to figure something out to save her and her people quickly.
“Well, Kenobi, try not to keep us waiting.” Maul grips Satine by the neck and plays with her hair idly, watching each micro-expression play across his enemy’s face with a predatory gaze.
“Give it up Maul, you don’t care about her, only me. That’s why she’s here. Just let her go and we can settle this alone.” Obi-Wan knows this is useless to try, but he has to give him something to allow himself more time to think.
A chilling laugh comes from Maul, as he pets Satine’s head with his clean hand and wipes the blood of the other on his robes. “We can tell you’re barely here. Do you even care about your sweet little duchess anymore, Kenobi?” He gauges Obi-Wan’s reaction to the accusation, wondering if perhaps Kenobi is distracted. Obi-Wan’s eyes snap back to Maul, “Release her, or you’ll wish I’d cut you the other direction last time.”
“Oh, Kenobi, such anger for a Jedi. She really does have you break every rule, doesn’t she?” Maul wraps a hand around Satine’s neck to pull her head back as he tears at her fine purple dress. “Tell me Kenobi, was she both your first and your last?” Maul easily reduces the fabric to tatters, and Duchess Satine is sobbing quietly. The cool air is harsh against her delicate skin, and her nipples harden at the exposure. She tries to cover herself instinctively, but the shackles on her wrists rattle in denial. Obi-Wan doesn’t respond, and he averts his gaze to spare Satine some dignity. The Dathomirian doesn’t like that, and he flicks his wrist, using the Force to shift Obi-Wan’s angry eyes to meet Satine’s tearful ones. “Look at her, Kenobi. It’s not like you get many opportunities living as a’s all denial and celibacy, isn’t it?”

Chuckling, Maul studies Kenobi’s reaction to what he’s said. Kenobi seems elsewhere. Maul knew Obi-Wan would be spending at least some mental energy devising an escape plan, but he seems particularly disconnected from this moment. He’ll either have to get his attention or discover what it is that could be distracting him. Either way, Maul has bloodlust at this point. Kenobi’s suffering is everything, and he’ll torture him in any and every way he’s able. Maul decides he’d like to know what’s distracting Kenobi, but to find that, he’ll have to be broken first. Maul decides his next steps instantly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Getting to the Mandalore system was easy enough, and you hoped to coast along with the good luck you’d had thus far. When the representatives asked for your identity, you didn’t lie. Simply stated you came on behalf of the Republic to assist in any way needed, flashed some associations with higher ranking Jedi, and assured you were only here to verify Mandalore was staying neutral. You couldn’t do mind tricks over the comms, but luckily that wasn’t needed. The Republic sent representatives periodically to see if Mandalore was still intent on staying out of the war as a part of the Council of Neutral Systems, so this was par for the course for any bored operator.
After being sent to your landing pad, you effortlessly landed the vessel and gathered your belongings. Now to find Anakin and Ahsoka. You entered strange buildings you’d only heard about from Master Obi-Wan, and you tried to remember the layout of the main city. Passing through buildings, strolling through a park, and being seen by far too many people, you needed to find them. You decided to reach out to Ahsoka directly, realizing this place was too big to stumble onto them. On your comm unit, you reached out on the regular channel the group used, and she responded instantly.
Forwarding the coordinates for somewhere to meet, you raced there, worrying you were failing your master at every moment lost. You couldn’t let another Master die when you were capable of protecting them this time. Ahsoka came outside to meet you. “What are you doing here? Obi-Wan said you weren’t to come.”
You blinked. He’d told other Jedi you weren’t coming. He’d told that either that you couldn’t or wouldn’t help. Did he really think so lowly of you? “Well, I’m here now. I haven’t had any contact from Master Kenobi, and I sensed danger around him. I came to see if everything was alright.” The two of you walked inside to see Anakin and Padme speaking quietly – no Master in sight. No doubt she was here partially for social reasons, as she and Anakin have always been close. Hopefully someone here had news about Obi-Wan.
“Is everyone safe?” The first words out of your mouth. Anakin turns away from Padme and tells you, “The situation here on Mandalore is delicate, and people are on edge. War is eminent, and Duchess Satine has been missing for over a week.”
“Do we have any leads on her? Is Master Kenobi exploring one alone?”
“Yes. Obi-Wan didn’t tell us exactly where he was going, but we believe he’s tracking her in the Outer Rim. We haven’t had contact for 6 days.”
You seethed. How could they let him go by himself? You should have been there. He should have let you come. You felt your cheeks flush and your stomach sink. You were useless to him.
“What do we do?”
“Obi-Wan is due back in two days. The most we can do is wait until then. I’m sure he’s fine. He always is.”
You nodded, and everyone went back to their own projects. Ahsoka mapped out tunnels underneath Mandalore, as she believed they were being used by the Shadow Collective and Death Watch to move around the city without detection. Padme edited speeches. Anakin read about from a text you didn’t recognize. They were all so calm and collected. You masked your fear and rage to match their demeanors. After a few hours when the sun sank into the horizon, everyone went to their own quarters. Padme opted to stay here as well, which was strange for the elite Senator, as she likely had much more lavish lodgings in some other building.
You rolled over and over in your bed, twisted up inside at your Master’s lack of confidence in you. He’d rather die alone than let you at least try to help him. Anakin used to be his padawan, perhaps he could help you be a better student to Obi-Wan or at least enlighten you as to if its personal or not the way Kenobi treats you. You quietly crept from your bed to the hallway, looking for Anakin’s room. Sensing by their Force signatures who was inside, you tiptoed past Ahsoka’s room to where you could feel Anakin. The door was cracked, so you peeked inside to see if he was asleep. It was late, and you could wait until morning if he was resting, but if you could have answers now, then you’d have them.
The room was lowly lit by a singular candle, but what you saw was not a meditating Anakin like you’d expected. Instead, you saw Padme and Anakin entangled in each other, naked and sweating, unaware of your watching eyes. You froze, mouth agape, as you took in the scene in front of you. They were entranced with each other – sloppily kissing and stroking each other’s faces. Anakin pressed into Padme’s hip with one hand and ran his hand down her body with the other. His fingertips traced along her collarbone and across her shoulder. He’d never looked so at ease. Anakin looked at Padme like she was the Force – like she was breath, like she was life itself. He stroked at her clit with deft fingers, taking in every shiver and gasp she let out in return to his touch. Anakin was on his knees behind Padme, one hand on her hip and the other now over her mouth, quieting the whimpers you could barely hear him drawing out of her. Her eyes were rolled back. His face was buried in her neck, no doubt muffling his own groans of ecstasy into her skin. You were stunned and your skin flushed, suddenly hot all over. Anakin nipped at Padme’s earlobe, pushing harder into her. She buckled under the pressure, falling facedown into the mattress. Anakin didn’t hesitate to pull her back up by her hair and continue thrusting into her over and over again at that slow, cruel pace that was clearly torturing Padme. He snaked the hand on her hip back down to her clit, rubbing up and down her folds a few times to soak his fingertips before concentrating on just her sensitive bud at the top. When he found the spot that made her lurch back into him, suddenly even more needy and aching, he stroked up and down quickly. Fuck, he knew her body. She rocked her hips against him and whined, his wrapped a hand around her neck to choke down the noise.

You silently stepped to the side, out of sight of that crack in the doorway and pressed your back into the wall, closing your eyes to concentrate on every sound. Padme’s gasps were few and far between, but the constant gentle rocking of their bodies was enough to keep the image alive. “Ani..” Padme whimpered in a familiar desperation. A sharp inhale, pounding on the mattress as she was teetering on the edge of orgasm. He thrusted faster, huffing with his extra effort as you imagined him trying to take her harder while keeping that same delightful pressure on her clit. Her little squeak quickly muffled by Anakin’s hand told you he pushed her over the edge. Padme shook the bed with her shivering – breathing raggedly between muffled screams. You turned for a peek at her, anxious to see that look of bliss fogged over her eyes. She didn’t disappoint. Padme was on her back, eyes heavy and her mouth lazily open in the daze of her orgasm. Anakin looked down at her in awe as he stroked his cock with one hand and held her thigh against him with the other. Anakin grunted quietly, gripping Padme’s thigh tighter as he did. She flinched in response to something suddenly, and you saw Anakin’s cum spilling over her breasts and stomach. He shuddered as he painted her, gripping her so tightly you knew there’d be a bruise later. They both let out a sigh of relief and contentment. You silently and briskly walked away before they could concentrate on anything outside their moment together.

The shock wore off as you climbed back into your bed, and the horror of what you’d done – what you’d enjoyed – set in. And Anakin! Padme! You knew many Jedi weren’t exactly celibate, but the older Jedi must have been, right? Otherwise, how were they to find the balance they so believed in and enjoy the enlightenment they preached? You felt dread. Would these awful urges ever disappear? You sighed deeply, trying to will the warmth and the aching to go away. If Anakin was still having issues with his promises, then there was so much you still had to learn. You tried your best to quiet the images playing over and over in your mind, but closing your eyes only made them clearer. Keeping your eyes open meant you had to see the body that was so hellbent on betraying you... You opted to sit cross legged on the floor to meditate. What would Master Obi-Wan do for something like this?

You reached out to him in your mind, trying to find some piece of advise he would have given about controlling your thoughts or steeling your mind, but nothing was coming to you. You reached out for your master, hoping just to feel that he was alright.

Chapter Text

Maul stepped out of the holding room for a moment, and Obi-Wan took the chance to try and comfort Satine. He looked up at her to see his first love shivering and weeping, body littered with cuts and bruises from Maul’s blows to her body where he couldn’t touch Kenobi’s ego. He whispered, “We’re going to get you out of here. Anakin and Ahsoka should be here soon, and I’ll work on getting us out of this in the meantime.” Trying to keep his gaze averted from her, Obi-Wan talked somewhere past her face. He didn’t expect an answer, nor did he look to the poor duchess for any recognition she’d understood. Satine choked on her tears before sputtering out, “You’re going to let him hurt me more, aren’t you?”
Metal screeching on metal interrupted any response Kenobi might muster as Maul dragged a table into the room. He stopped when the middle of the table was just about two feet from Obi-Wan. There were straps at each end of it and Kenobi gulped as he calculated what Maul was about to use them for.
Maul snaked his arms around Satine from behind, shushing her as he stroked down her shaking arms. “Hush now, little mouse. Aren’t you tired of hanging here? Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.” The duchess whimpered as he gripped her now free wrists. Using the Force to remove the shackles from her ankles, Maul ushered her forward to the table. She was too weak to hop up onto the table herself, as Satine had already nearly collapsed into Maul’s arms, so he scooped her up bridal style and promptly dropped her body on the slab. She fainted for a moment after the sudden change in position as he recuffed her to her new spot, arms and ankles spread on either end. She was shivering against the cold surface. The icy touch brought her back to full consciousness.
“Maul, one finger on her, and I’ll-“
The Zabrak looked Obi-Wan in the eyes and he traced a single finger up from the duchess’s calf to her thigh, and circled around her hip. His smirk only widened at Kenobi’s sudden silence.
Satine’s only clothing remaining was her panties, spared the shredding when Maul marred her dress. Maul hooked his thumb in the side of them as he clutched onto her hip and leaned towards Obi-Wan. “You’ll do nothing, Kenobi.” He ripped the cloth at either of her hips and pulled the last bit of her protection away from her. Satine desperately tried to cross her legs, but to no avail – she was on full display.

Maul shoved the center of the fabric into Obi-Wan’s face. “Does she smell as sweet as you remember, Kenobi? Because she smells like a treat to me.”

“Gah-stop.” Obi-Wan shook his head and tried to escape Maul’s hand pressing Satine’s panties to his face. There wasn’t any trace of wetness on them, not that it surprised Kenobi, but he did worry her body was in far more trouble than before. Maul chuckled as he watched Kenobi’s worried expression carefully.
“You’re right, Kenobi. There is far too little for a simple human like you to smell. I suppose we’ll have to get her riled up so you can have a show.”
“Maul, stop this. You don’t need to bring her-“
Obi-Wan was cut off by Maul slapping him and gripping his jaw. His cold voice crept into Kenobi’s ears.
“You’ll not interrupt my fun again, or I’ll cut out your tongue.” Kenobi glared up at him, seething with hatred as Maul only smiled and pushed two fingers into Obi-Wan’s mouth. Kenobi coughed as Maul made him gag on them, then Maul turned his attention back to Satine, whose eyes were snapped shut in fear.
“See, duchess? It’ll be just like he’s doing it..” as Maul pushed two now slobbery fingers against Satine’s entrance. She squirmed and cried out at the touch, sobbing and begging him not to hurt her. “Now, little mouse,” he purred, “if you keep struggling, then you won’t get any prep.”
Obi-Wan was in shock as he stared with his mouth agape and drool on his face from Maul making him gag on his fingers. All he could do was watch as Maul silently climbed onto the table to perch in between Satine’s open legs like a cat stalking its now paralyzed prey.
Maul wasted no time, pushing his fingers deeply into Satine, curling them inside her, and then pulling out. She started hyperventilating, and Kenobi was sure she’d pass out from the fear soon. He hoped she would – it’d be easier for her at least when she did. Maul planted his left hand next to Satine’s head and looked up at Kenobi before leaning down to her breast and biting her nipple. It was soft for a moment, like he wanted her to lean into it, but he was cruel, and he bit into her harder, drawing blood from her pale skin. She cried out again, thrashing to the best of her ability. “Please stop,” she begged, as Maul only chuckled in her face and leaned back to squat on his ankles.

Maul looked to his right at Obi-Wan, who was barely blinking as he looked down at Satine in horror. The Sith unbuttoned his trousers and began to stroke at the bulge inside. Kenobi looked at Satine with sad eyes, not noticing Maul pulling out his member. Interrupting his silent pitying, Maul asked Obi-Wan, “Tell me Kenobi, did she ever actually let you make her into a woman?” Kenobi looked at him with disgust and spit into his face as his answer. Maul only laughed, wiping the spit away from his cheek. “Look at you, making it easier on her I suppose,” as he stroked the length of his now fully erect cock with Kenobi’s protest.
Obi-Wan looked in horror at Maul’s cock – it was long and ridged and was no doubt going to hurt Satine, no matter how much spit he mercifully added. He ripped his eyes from it to look to Satine – she was terrified. Not looking to Obi-Wan for comfort she knew he couldn’t provide, she stared in fear at the Sith on top of her. Maul grabbed Satine’s hips, pulling her upward against the straps to have better access to her cunt, and pushed the head of his cock inside of her.
The cacophonous mix of Satine’s screams, Kenobi’s protests, and Maul’s cold laughter filled the room. Maul dug his fingers into the duchess’s delicate sides as he forced himself further and further into her folds. He glanced at Kenobi for a moment, just as he ripped out of Satine completely, causing her to quake and scream in pain. Obi-Wan fought against his restraints, trying to stop the violence in front of him in vain. He reached out with the Force to hit Maul or strangle him or something, anything to help her. His lack of concentration and excess of desperation had him flailing, and all he accomplished was barely getting Maul’s attention. Maul was assaulting her, now smiling at Kenobi while he did so, shoving his huge member into Satine before ripping it out again at a merciless pace.

Satine was beginning to nod off, but Maul wouldn’t let her. He leaned forward to clutch her throat and taunt her as he forced himself inside again. “Did he make you feel this full, little mouse?” Maul stilled inside her for a moment, using his free hand to tease at her clit like a real lover would. She only closed her eyes and tried to ignore him. Maul frowned and slapped down hard on her sensitive spot, and smiled again only when her eyes shot open and then looked to Obi-Wan desperately. Leaning in further, his lips at her ear, Maul began whispering to Satine. “You know, part of him is enjoying this. Part of him aches to watch you suffer more, just look,” the fiend nipped at her earlobe while pointing to Kenobi’s crotch. “Look at your hero, little mouse.” As she focused on where he was pointing, Kenobi looked down himself in a panic. Satine looked distraught and betrayed to see her once dear friend with an undeniable erection pressing against his trousers.

Satine screamed in agony as Maul only laughed in her ear between biting and sucking at her neck. He was relishing in their shared anguish. He had to fuck her more slowly when he was by her neck like this, so he took his time to drink in her shivering and to feel her heart hammer against her chest that was pressed against his own. She sobbed loudly as she felt utterly betrayed and hopeless. Maul fully ravishing her body and her friend, who was supposed to save and protect her, had some sick attraction to it all. It was too much, she felt light-headed and sick.

Maul watched as Satine started to black out, and he slapped her cheek to stir her again, keeping her awake just a little longer. He licked up her neck and began to suck on her earlobe again, not having been with anyone in years and relishing that he was inside the one person that was tearing his enemy apart.
Kenobi saw fresh, red blood pooling between their legs on the table, and his shamed silence was broken as he weakly told Maul to stop. “Just stop, you don’t need to make her a part of this.” Maul snickered in Satine’s ear as he turned his face to Obi-Wan again. “But Kenobi, she and I are enjoying each other so much, why look, she’s overwhelmed with ecstasy.” Maul held Satine’s chin up to face Obi-Wan again, as her eyes rolled into the back of her head from either the pain, the fear, or the exhaustion of it all. Snide Kenobi returned, his anger rising again at seeing her reduced to such a state. “If this is about your inability to pleasure a woman, then I’m sure you could find much easier ways to practice.” He said it smugly, hoping to recenter Maul’s brutality to himself instead.
“Oh?” Maul asked darkly, getting up from the table and unsheathing his cock from Satine’s weak form, “And how do you…practice then, Kenobi?” Maul looks the Jedi up and down, just inches away from his face, cock still hard and pointed, not bothering to hide it from Obi-Wan so he can see it stained with Satine’s blood and other fluids. Obi-Wan is deeply uncomfortable with Maul’s domineering presence about him, but he wants to keep Maul’s attention from Satine.
“Don’t be shy, Jedi, I’m sure you have plenty of stories to tell,” Maul hisses into Kenobi’s ear. Obi-Wan doesn’t respond, trying only to protect his mind and anticipate Maul’s next play.

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to see myself,” Maul says, as he places his hands on either side of Obi-Wan’s head, forcing his way into Kenobi’s mind. The pain is immense as Obi-Wan grits his teeth and tries to resist the Sith’s prying. Ever so impatient, Maul knees Obi-Wan on the stomach as he continues to press, making the Jedi cough and lose focus for just a moment.

Maul chuckles as he sees a lonely, pathetic Obi-Wan shamefully masturbating in his quarters. “So you don’t practice then, do you? I wonder, is it sweet Satine you dream of?” Maul continues, but Obi-Wan is resilient. Unable to overcome the now increasingly stubborn Obi-Wan, Maul digs his nails into either side of Kenobi’s head and knees him over and over again in the gut until he’s coughing and trying not to puke up what precious little food is left in his system. Suddenly, an unfamiliar face flashes in the Jedi’s mind, and Maul preys upon it. “Now who is this, Kenobi, a new lover?” Obi-Wan protests through gritted teeth, “No, no, no” is all he can muster. But it’s too late, Maul sees your face in Kenobi’s mind – eyes closed and meditating in his quarters with him as Obi-Wan uses the opportunity to memorize the curve of your jaw and the shape of your lips. Obi-Wan shuts him out again, but the Sith has all he needs.
“Why Kenobi, I’m disappointed.” Maul condescendingly tussles Obi-Wan’s hair and claps his cheek. “I thought Satine was to be our only honored guest, but I can see there’s another much closer to your heart.” Maul sits on the table facing Obi-Wan and lays his arm over Satine’s soft body as he does, casually playing with one of her breasts. “I can see there is much more to you now, Kenobi. Not quite the good Jedi our lovely duchess here thought, and certainly not the master your little padawan is hoping either.” He teases at her nipple to harden it again, as Satine is barely awake now. “We’ll have to show them exactly who you are under all of that sarcasm and false piety.”
Darth Maul turns his face to Satine, assessing if she’s still conscious enough to torment Kenobi for him. She’s still and quiet, so he slaps her stomach with enough force to leave a beet red handprint across it. She rises instantly, looking Maul in the eyes with fear and anticipation. Her breath turns shallow and she quivers under his lingering touch. Maul shoots Obi-Wan a side glance and smirks as he crawls over her body again.
“Where were we, little mouse?” He strokes his cock back to life as he nuzzles into her neck. Then, Maul undoes one of her wrist straps, realizing she’s too drained and weak to fight him in the least. He unbuckles the other and reattaches them to the opposites straps as before. Using the Force, he frees her ankles and flips her over, pressing her face into the cold metal and pushing her knees to her chest. Satine gasps, the sudden movement startling her and the cold stinging her already sore knees and face.
Obi-Wan can’t watch, his dearest friend is being defiled and he can’t be with her in any sense – he can’t bear even the sight of it for her. He looks to the ceiling, trying to see any way out of this room so he can take her to safety.
Maul presses his cock back into her warm folds. He grips her hips as he bucks like an animal into her again and again. She soaks him from the friction, her body naturally trying to save her some pain. The new lubrication only begs Maul to fuck her faster, so he obliges, digging nails into her hip and clawing down her delicate back as he does. He hums in delight as she shudders on his intruding cock, forcing her face harder into the heavy metal table supporting them both.
Maul notices that Obi-Wan’s concentration is elsewhere, so he decides to draw him back to the present. Slapping Satine’s ass, he calls out, “Won’t you moan for me, little mouse?” Satine whimpers and prays she passes out again, desperate for a break from the constant assault on her already sore center. Obi-Wan studies his shackles, but there doesn’t appear to be any weakness to them.
Maul feels Satine start to relax, certain she’ll lose consciousness again soon if he doesn’t intervene, he wets his thumb and starts to tease at her asshole. “We’re not finished, little mouse,” he threatens, that low voice rumbling through the room.
The new touch startles Satine, and she flinches, tightening her cunt around him in her reflexive jolt. Maul hums in delight and continues, pressing his thumb in a little deeper now to test the dainty woman under him. Satine is too exhausted to fight or protest much other than clenching and gasping in both fear and pain. Maul loves the way she squeezes him when she’s frightened, so he presses on, shoving his thumb in her ass, clawing at her back, pulling her hair, spanking her sharply, and seeking any rise out of her he can.
Kenobi tries to ignore the sounds of skin colliding as Maul continues torturing Satine. He focuses on his other surroundings, looking for any flaw in the walls, his restraints, Satine’s restraints, or any view of the exit he could muster. There was nothing. In his frustration, Obi-Wan hangs his head and sighs defeatedly. Maul snaps his head up with the Force, insisting he see the show before him. Obi-Wan peers down at Satine, tear streaked cheeks and humbled to her core as Maul is shoving her face into the metal table and forcing himself into her from behind like a dog. He’s disgusted with Maul and pities his first love as she’s subjected to this only because of him.

Numbed from the constant array of torment, Satine grows less reactive to Maul’s “ministrations.” In annoyance, he spits on her asshole and pushes his cock into it as deeply as he can. Satine screams with newfound pain as he drives his member inside. Spitting onto his cock he pulls out a little and rubs it along his shaft before thrusting it back into her. Tighter and tenser than ever, Maul closes his eyes, drinking in the ecstasy of her aching. Kenobi screams to stop again, telling Maul he’ll tear him apart, but Maul simply ignores him and bucks into the duchess relentlessly.

Kenobi is furious, fuming as he threatens Maul to tear out his eyes, to kill him properly this time, and whatever else he can to try and move his attention from poor Satine. Maul only chuckles in the deep, demented way he does as he raises a hand towards Obi-Wan. Gripping with a closed fist, Maul uses the Force to stifle Obi-Wan by choking him into submission. “You’ll break my concentration, Kenobi…” he says as he closes his eyes again to find his rhythm.

Smiling at the sounds of Obi-Wan choking and rattling his restraints, Maul digs the nails of his other hand into Satine’s hip. He pounds into her, blood leaking from her holes, and grunts as his orgasm approaches. He leans his head back and squeezes on Kenobi’s neck tighter as he shakes against Satine’s bare ass. His thrusts are irregular and his breathing goes ragged and desperate. Maul shudders and fills her with his seed, bucking and moaning to her while the duchess sobs. Maul empties himself into her spent body and sighs, satisfied, as he pulls his cock out of her. Casually rebuttoning his trousers and picking up his discarded robe off the floor, Maul lightly pushes Satine over, allowing her to finally slump and pass out. His eyes meet Kenobi’s, who is hot with rage and contempt. “No round two out of that one, I see,” Maul chuckles, relishing Kenobi’s fury. “Let’s see if your little padawan is just as disappointing.” Kenobi instinctively tries to lurch at Maul like a wild animal, thrashing and furious, but to no avail. “You will not take my padawan. You won’t even find them.” Maul looks Obi-Wan over, studying the sweat on his brow and the fury of this particular wrath. “Perhaps I won’t ‘take’ your padawan, Kenobi,” Maul steps closer, taunting the Jedi, “perhaps instead… they’ll beg me.” Obi-Wan’s eyes grow wide for an instant at the audacity of this monster, and then he opens his mouth to either protest or scream profanities, but the door is already closing as Maul leaves.

Chapter Text

You had stayed awake all night, trying to reach your master through the Force and avoiding your own thoughts. They were no use to your mission; they were either memories of Aola, flashbacks of Anakin and Padme, or concern for Master Kenobi – distractions, each of them. All you felt was fear and shame and anger, which made your worries all the worse. You struggled against the emotions, forcing the neutrality of your Jedi principles. You felt a dark presence around Master Obi-Wan and you sensed that he had been captured or was perhaps surrounded in enemy territory. Either way, you couldn’t wait another day before going out to find him – the danger was too clear.

Sleep deprived, but certain, you repack your bag. The sun isn’t up yet, so you jot down a quick note to your companions that you’re going out to follow leads. You jog up to your ship and strap in before you come to your senses. You know your Master is in the Outer Rim and surrounded by darkness, so you plot a course for Dathomir, being the planet you know with the most concentrated presence of the dark side of the Force. You hope as long as you get closer to him, you’ll be able to sense your Master’s presence. If there’s no sense of him there, then you’ll just have to keep looking.

After your ship hurls forward into the familiar tunnel of light, you sigh in relief. You’re finally taking action again, and you can feel that horrid grasp of helplessness fading from your chest. You straighten up in the pilot’s seat and steel yourself for the perilous journey ahead.

The ship warps near the orbit zone of the blood red planet. Immediately, you reach out for a sense of your master in the area. There is a familiarity to this place… you feel it is a similar darkness to that surrounding Master Kenobi, but more distant, like a memory. Your master isn’t here, but the dark side being has been.


Obi-Wan strained against his shackles again, but all he accomplished was cutting deeper into his wrists, bloodying the restraints in the process. Satine stirred, her body still weak from the abuse. She’d awoken a few times to vomit and shudder and weep. She seems more than spent from the past few days in captivity, so her fleeting consciousness isn’t surprising regardless of the day’s events. Obi-Wan sighed, his mind unable to focus and his body aching from the constant raising of his arms.
The door opened. Obi-Wan tensed and gritted his teeth, immediately on edge in Maul’s presence. The Jedi worried what treachery he was planning next. Maul slowly strode past Obi-Wan, comfortable – taking his time, and sat on the table by Satine’s feet. She was unconscious, so luckily she was spared this moment for now, at least. Maul had a bucket and a cloth in his hands. It almost looked like he was going to wash Satine’s blood-stained body.
Kenobi wanted to speak, but he was at a loss. He was here, undeniably Maul’s prisoner, and nobody else knew where he was.
The Zabrak dipped the cloth in the bucket, squeezed the excess water, and turned.
You thought about Master Obi-Wan’s enemies. Those who have been to this planet would include Count Dooku, Asajj Ventress, and Darth Maul. Unless there were others you didn’t know about… Master didn’t trust you with much information about himself. You mostly learned these speaking with Anakin, Ahsoka, and hearing gossip around the Temple. Perhaps there was another enemy he hid from you, afraid you would put yourself in harm’s way to protect him. You tried to shake the thought – your incompetence in his eyes would have to be ignored for now. Go on what you know. Dooku wouldn’t have come here often, so his connection wouldn’t be strong. Ventress hasn’t been here since childhood as far as you knew, so your best candidate was Darth Maul. You exhaled and concentrated for a moment, hoping the Force would show you some sign that you were on the right path, but you know it was selfish to come out here. It was selfish to want to prove yourself to your master, to want to save him so he would finally trust you, and to convince yourself that you were worthy of the Jedi order. It was selfish to try and protect yourself from the grief of losing another master to your incompetence. Despite telling yourself this mission was wrong, you were still driven to rescue Master Obi-Wan. You should be there with him as his apprentice. Your mind reached out into the Force, feeling for your master and hoping to use your close connection to be able to track him better.
You saw a burnt orange sky that was more smog than atmosphere. There was refuse everywhere, piles – no, mountains – of it everywhere. Lotho Minor! It had to be. There was rumor that’s where Darth Maul was during his disappearance and his new brother, Savage had found him there. Of course. You punched in the coordinates and watched in excitement the white streaks paint the sky as you hurled towards your master.

To Obi-Wan’s horror, Maul continued pouring the water that drenched through the cloth covering his face. He gagged and coughed and desperately tried to remain calm, but it was to no avail. He couldn’t lose the simulation of drowning. Maul wasn’t even trying to break into his mind the way he had before, he wasn’t wanting to best Kenobi in the Force, he only wanted to make him suffer.
It felt like hours passed as the Zabrak toyed with Obi-Wan. The Sith laughed at the gasps followed by sobs and watched closely as Obi-Wan’s body became more weak and more weary. Satisfied he was surely exhausted, the Sith began his questioning.
“Now tell me, Kenobi,” Maul whispered into his ear as he gave him a moment to breathe, “Where is that apprentice you miss so dearly?”
Obi-Wan didn’t respond, he only gasped for air with a croaking sound and then braced himself for the next wave. Suddenly, the cloth was torn from his face and his chin was lifted.
“My patience wears thin, Kenobi, where are they?” Obi-Wan shook his head weakly, drained from the torture. As Maul chuckled, the Jedi felt two hands on either side of his head, but he was far too exhausted to try and even keep him out this time. This must have been the plan all along; it was far easier than using all of his energy to fight his way in. Now Kenobi’s mind was laid bare as he struggled to remain awake for Maul’s musings.
Maul saw into your shared moments with Kenobi, he felt what Obi-Wan remembered feeling in those moments as well – living them out as he pleased. The Sith felt Kenobi’s hesitance and restrained interest in your curves and your wide eyes the day you were reassigned to him. He saw your skilled fighting, your strategic excellence, and most of all, he saw Kenobi spend countless nights in his bed, stroking himself to the thought of you. Maul didn’t dare stifle his laughter.
“That apprentice is wasted on you. The potential, the expertise, their grief would fuel their power. It’s all lost on you pathetic Jedi.. especially that tempting mouth. That’s your favorite part, isn’t it, Kenobi?”
The Jedi tried to pull away, furious and embarrassed beneath his fatigue. “Maybe you’ll have a new favorite part once you see everything,” he cautioned. “Now, let’s see where you left them for me.” Maul ruffled through Kenobi’s mind again, looking for the last moment.
Maul felt Kenobi walking briskly through the temple towards your room. Heart racing, brow sweating, he simply walked through your door without so much as a knock. His objective left his mind as his eyes found your bare shoulder, collarbone, and most of your breast in the amber glow of your dimmed lights. Hungry eyes scan along your exposed ribs and down the curve of your hips to soft looking thighs. In a panic, much to his dismay, you scrambled to cover your side with the blanket you’d been cuddling. He felt almost guilty, intruding upon your private space, but wished he’d done it earlier had he known you slept so… comfortably.
“Ah, your little novice isn’t any use to me on Coruscant.” He tried to find some later memory, but there was nothing. That was the last goodbye. Maul made sure to memorize Obi-Wan’s familiarity of your Force signature, just to be sure if he got lucky enough to find you, he’d be certain from a distance.

Your ship jerked as you exited hyperspace. There is was, Lotho Minor. You desperately needed some rest at this point, but orbit didn’t seem to be the safest option, being a popular junk planet for Naboo, there would be at least some traffic. You landed in what seemed like an especially remote area in the valley between two garbage peaks. Stepping out to scan the vicinity for danger, you wondered why anyone would come to this disgusting place. You thought it must be ideal for privacy and the location most painful for Maul during his disappearance - if this truly is where he nearly rotted for years in exile. It must have been unbearable. You returned to your ship and hid inside for much needed rest.
Hours passed without issue and you woke after about 4 of them, feeling more able to face the hazards ahead. Suit active, lightsaber handy, a backpack equipped with various tools, rations, and medical supplies, and you were on your way. You hoped your luck continued. There was that same burnt orange light in the sky, and you really had no idea what the day/night cycle was like here, so you would simply have to be ready.

Obi-Wan wakes with a shout – in his sleep, he saw Maul with his hands on you on a small ship. He fears the worst, you captured and joining him soon, but decides Maul is simply inputting the picture into his mind as more of his relentless torture.
Satine is laying on her side, knees pulled to her chest and facing Obi-Wan. Her eyes are barely open. She’s been raped three times since that first terrible night – losing more blood and getting no water each time it’s happened. Obi-Wan tried to shake the images of her body being ripped apart by Maul from his mind. The sight of the Sith’s hands gripping her thighs and forcing himself into her over and over played in his head again, despite his best efforts.
The Jedi fears the worst. The duchess’s once sweet face is now hardened, her eyes hollow as she looks more through Obi-Wan than at him. “Satine, I…” he instinctively tries to sit up, but he’s now strapped down horizontally with his hands by his sides, presumably so he can rest for more torture from Maul. Satine whispers something. Through cracked lips and a hoarse voice, Kenobi can’t make it out. He moves his head closer to try and hear better, “What was that?” straining to be as close to her as possible.
“Please just kill me. I don’t want him to be the last thing I see.” She wasn’t begging. Her last wish she requested with dignity.
“Satine, I can’t. I can’t even move my hands.”
“You don’t have to touch me. I know you can with the Force. Do it.”
The door opens and Darth Maul enters. “Well, we need to make room for our new guest arriving tonight, so I suppose I could fulfill your request, little mouse.”
Satine looks at Obi-Wan mournfully, knowing he wasn’t going to protect her from even this. The duchess’s eyes close and silent tears flow on either side of her face without looking at the Sith.
Maul ignites his lightsaber.

The easiest thing to find should be Master’s ship, but you didn’t see it on the way in and wouldn’t want to waste fuel or risk being detected by flying around to search more quickly. Instead, you thought it may be easier to concentrate on Master Obi-Wan’s Force signature and hone in on his location.
You sat crossed-legged to find your center. He was close – within ten miles for certain. Your connection was still clouded by the familiar darkness surrounding him – it felt like it was suffocating his being. Your worry grew, but you pressed on. You assigned north as the direction of the nose of your ship and determined him to be southeast, so you began hiking through the refuse that direction.
As you trudged on, that cloud of darkness felt stronger and your master was more and more difficult to sense through it. You looked over your shoulder, growing more paranoid about your quiet experience thus far on this obviously treacherous planet. Suddenly, that paranoia was all you could feel. It tiptoed up your spine and raised the hairs on the back of your neck. You looked around in all directions, spinning in a circle, swearing you heard shuffling, but saw nothing around you but trash. As your heartrate increased, your sensed seemed to dull. Nearly panting, you tried not to panic. You were losing your focus – you are tracking your master. You have to be steady. Steeling your resolve, you tried to push out the feeling you were being watched, much less followed.
You definitely weren’t safe out in the open like this, so you sprinted in the direction of where you last felt your master, wanting to limit the time you were vulnerable in unfamiliar territory. However, the junk was unpredictable terrain, and you quickly slipped. Damning yourself as you stood up, you heard movement nearby. You looked back to see, and it was a figure in a loose black robe with a hood. You froze with fear as you both watched each other in silence. You were too afraid to think about how long they’d been behind you, what their plans may be, or why they were out in this trash heap. They said nothing and their hood shadowed any face that may be hiding underneath. When the figure lunged forward, instantly, you knew it was a chase.
You leapt up out of the pile and dashed forward, hoping to loop back around to your ship. They were fast and agile, barely slipping on the loose pieces of trash that stuck out of the mounds you sloppily traversed. You were trying to lengthen the distance between the two of you, so you kept up your sprint as long as possible, hoping your cardio had paid off. Minutes seemed to pass as you barely edged away from them; however when you turned to see the figure, they looked graceful – confident in their stride like they knew exactly where to step and where you were headed.
Minutes passed slowly and you felt yourself lose steam. The speed would have to yield to your need to keep moving forward. Your lungs were burning and you felt a stinging in your side, wondering how long you could keep up this run after such a hard press in the beginning. Your backpack felt heavier than ever.
The figure was now gaining on you, their stride so poised as they stalked behind. You wondered if you could push through the last mile quickly enough to make it back to your ship. Struggling to continue, you reached out for your master again, hoping he might be close. You weren’t the solo duelist he was, and you were sincerely regretting not asking Anakin and Ahsoka to come with you. Master was unreachable, as you felt smothered in darkness. You dreaded this might be a henchman of sorts to the person who had hurt or captured your master – if he was no match, then what were you?
You stole another look over your shoulder, and there was no figure in sight. You were certain you just couldn’t see them – it’s not like they’d simply give up. This was a hellish planet and you were exhausted. You continued as quickly as possible, circling back to your ship. Dashing up the walkway, dropping your backpack on the floor, you smashed the button to close the door behind you. That’s when you heard the creaking of the door being forced open against the hydraulics. The same figure leapt through the gap, rolling as they landed, then rising on their feet with a practiced grace.
You screamed, terrified of the intruder and now trapped together as the door closed behind them. You prayed it wasn’t the Sith you so feared. Running up to the controls, you thought to retreat to the inner control room. It would be easier to defend. A hand clenched around your wrist as you lunged towards the doorway. You shook it off desperately. You heard dark laughter reverberate through the hall behind you as you darted around the corner, hoping to escape them.
Not a moment later, your back was slammed against the wall and you felt that strong hand pin you by your chest. The hood had fallen. You were face to face with Darth Maul.
You looked into his yellow eyes, ravenous and predatory, and you gasped. He leaned in closer, his presence overwhelming as his other hand clutched your hip, keeping your saber at bay and pressing you further in the metal wall. You tried to wiggle out of his grip, but he was unmovable. You turned your head to the side, searching for any exit, but you were suddenly overtaken by the sensation of hot breath on your neck and nails digging into your skin through your robes.
Your heart hammered in your chest as he pressed closer. You were trapped. “I’ve been waiting to meet you, little apprentice.” His voice was startlingly calm; you expected less resolve from such a wild and unpredictable warrior. The warmth of his hand on your chest was growing, his body heat radiating through your robes, and he pinned you with his stiff body.
“I have to say, you gave me quite a chase. If you’d left that bulky backpack behind, I think you may have lost me.” You tried not to pant as the sudden halting of your long run caught up with you. You blamed it on the lightheadedness, but his voice sounded impressed. “You know, a skilled Force user must always prioritize their agility. Burdens are unbecoming of us, so the Jedi say.” You eyed him up and down, curious why he was speaking to you with such familiarity. When you dared to meet his gaze again, you found his hungry eyes instead fixated on your lips. In surprise, you parted them to speak, and he quickly met your eyeline. “Where is my master?” you asked breathlessly.
A deft hand removed your saber and stashed it in his own robes before you could react. “He’s in my holding cell with Duchess Satine,” Maul answered plainly. “Why have you come to this wretched place? To save your master?”
“Yes, I-“
“He came here of his own accord to save the Duchess. Do you think that perhaps if he’d brought his little shadow, he wouldn’t be in the position he is now?”
You fell silent. He was mocking you. He was mocking the incapable apprentice whose master would rather walk into this danger alone than be weighed down by such a nuisance. What could you say? It’s not like you were actually able to come here alone, save your master, defeat the Sith lord, and return Duchess Satine to her people. You were trapped on your own ship with Darth Maul having accomplished nothing.
His hand found your hip again. It felt bare with your saber missing. Maul’s thumb pressing into the soft divot beside your bone while his other fingers gripped you heightened that vulnerable feeling. “So tell me, Jedi, what’s your plan from here?” he whispered, more condescending than curious. You clammed up. It’s not like you had a plan, but it’d be better to think of one instead of trying to seem clever.
Your breathing was calming now, so you took in a deep breath to try and soothe yourself. The Sith’s hand still pressed against your chest, his fingers splayed over your collarbones, allowed for little expansion.
“Let’s go see how your Master is doing. I’m sure he’d love fresh company.” Maul spoke gently into your ear. Something about the word “fresh” sent a chill down your spine, and his quiet confidence reassured you that this was not a request. He stepped back, hand sliding down the front of your body, and pulled you by the hip to stand in front of him, facing the door to the ship. “Fetch me something to tie you up.” You expected to be bound, but finding your own bindings was almost humiliating. You shook the feeling and thought of your backpack. There was a med kit in there with gauze, but more importantly, a knife. You fell to your knees on the floor, trying to look defeated and opened your discarded backpack to reveal the medical kit. You slipped the small knife into your sleeve as you grabbed basic gauze, standing to present it to your captor.
He chuckled, looking down at you and kept your gaze after you stood. Maul studied you like a cat watching a mouse before it pounced. He reached for the gauze, but unexpectedly gripped your wrist instead, the metal of the folded knife digging into your skin as he did. “Something to cut it with, how sweet. You must think of everything,” he taunted, removing the knife and taking the soft fabric from your hand. He spun you to face away from him again, binding your wrists individually and then tying them tightly together behind your back. He tested the security, pulling at your wrists, chuckling when you let out a tense breath. “We’ll walk back. I’d love a stroll,” and he opens the door, pushing you to walk down the ramp.