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2015-07-10
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Servus

Summary:

Obi-Wan lost the fight, the bombs went off, and Anakin and Ahsoka didn't get back in time
Or: AU where Obi-Wan is captured and sold after the events of Kidnapped (season 4 ep 11)

Notes:

Based off of a fanart (which I included) by thominholeisgood.tumblr.com, although unfortunately I can't find the original artwork on their blog. Servus is Latin for slave. Please read the warnings!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Wex Telonis was a man of great entrepreneurship who could smell a great bargain a parsec away. So when his old friend and occasional business partner Darts D'nar offered him a deal he couldn't refuse, well, he just couldn't refuse him. 

Being one of the high rulers of his planet came with its perks. Sinteen was a rather prosperous world for being smack dab in the middle of the outer rim. Being out of the Republic's reach meant there was no law against slavery (in fact, there were rumors that the Zygerrian slave trade was part of the reason Sinteen became so prosperous in the first place). But also being a planet of little engineering progress, valuable ore mines, or military importance meant both sides of the war had no interest in it, leaving Sinteen free rule itself in its own quiet corner of the galaxy. Zyggeria was close enough to Sinteen that Wex had made quite a few friends in the slave world's startlingly fast growing business. Since the slaver's quiet return to the galaxy, a steady stream of clientele travelled to and from their solar system looking for high quality slaves. Wex himself had been involved in quite a few of these underhanded dealings, buying a personal item or two whenever the offer arose.

He'd first laid eyes on the man when D'nar dragged him into the holocom call, beaten and bruised and struggling against the Zyggerian's iron grip. Someone out of view cursed and ignited an electrowhip, and that finally quieted the slave down. The Jedi Order was almost unheard of out where Sinteen was, but Wex was smart enough to recognize the uniform of a Jedi knight.

"Don't worry. We'll make him obedient before he is delivered. Thank you for taking him off of our hands, my friend."

"My pleasure, D'nar."

D'nar smirked down at the slave panting at his feet. The slave stiffened as a hand ran through his hair as if petting him. "Oh, I'm sure it will be," the slaver growled as the transmission cut out.

oOo

It was barely one rotation later that the servants announced D'Nar's presence in his household, bringing with him a "gift". D'nar stood an imposing figure in the main lounge, a splotch of dark against the backdrop of light colored walls. By his side stood a demure man with his head bowed, wrists manacled and lowered in front of him. Two guards stood on either side of him, one from Wex's staff and one from D'Nar's personal guard.

Wex eagerly approached the group, briefly greeting his friend by clasping his shoulder before moving on to inspect his new property.

Humans were coveted on Sinteen the same way a Twi'lek might be coveted on Tatooine or Nal Hutta. Wex was no expert on human culture, but everything he had heard said that the younger humans were the most prized, being at the peak of their aesthetic looks, but there was no denying this one was handsome in his own right despite being only a decade younger than Wex himself. He was shorter than Wex, with pale white skin marred by a few cuts and bruises and a lean musculature, fit but not bulging. A curtain of burnished auburn half obscured his eyes, the color an icy gray-blue which seemed to pierce his very soul.  The slave tensed as Wex ruffled his fingers through the thick red strands, frowning as his hand came away dirty and greasy. His hair most certainly could use a washing, as could the gingery beard that needed just a bit of trimming. Even so, he was still a sight to be admired.

"Remarkable," Wex commented, "Tell me, D'nar. How did you come by such a fine specimen?"

"We had a little...problem with the Jedi. This one," he grasped the Jedi's forearm and dug into it with his claws until the man grunted, "I won in a fight. Don't worry, we've made sure the Republic does not have a trail on him. Though we are sure they would like him back, so be warned. He may try to escape."

"I'm sure it will be fine. Thank you, D'nar." He gestured to one of the servants lingering in the doorway. The girl scrambled forward and held out a pouch of credit chips. "Here is your payment. He better be worth the cost."

The Zygerrian bared his teeth in a feral grin. "You have my word." He bowed, then took his leave. Wex barely noticed as his friend disappeared down the corridor.

He curled his fingers under the man's chin, lifting his head to look Wex straight on. "I want to make one thing clear," Wex murmured, smiling coldly, "There is no war on Sinteen. I don't know who you are, nor do I care. From now on, you belong to me." Wex tightened his grip, digging his fingers into the soft skin of the slave's jaw until he nodded his agreement.

"Excellent." He released his grip and let his hand drop to his shoulder. Wex trailed his fingers over the ruined tatters of the slave's clothing, cream tunics discolored with burns, tears and grime.  "I want him cleaned, clothed, and in my quarters in one standard hour," he said to his servant, still scrutinizing his newest acquisition, "Let's get him into something a little more...comfortable, hmm?"

oOo

Wex set the datapad down when a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," he called. The door opened, revealing the new slave silhouetted in the doorway. Wex grinned, motioning him in. The man entered, freshly cleaned and in a clean outfit. His bare feet toed the plush carpeting as he shifted uncomfortably, reddish fringe covering his eyes from Wex's lustful gaze.

evealing was putting it nicely. A band made of flexible gold metal was slung low on his hips, longer over the side of his thighs and just barely managing to cover his, erm, extremities. Flimsy see-through white fabric included purely for looks fell from the band to his knees. Other than that, the only other piece of covering the slave wore was another wide gold band encircling his neck and shoulders and the chains on his wrists, both of which were equipped to deal out a nasty electric charge should he get out of line.

 

Embarrassment stained the slave's cheeks pink. He was a shy little thing; Wex loved the way the slave wouldn't meet his eyes, turning his head and crossing his arms over his bare chest as if to shield himself from prying eyes. It was almost adorable, the way a full grown man could seem like a blushing virgin.

"I'm sure you're smart enough to understand your role in my household. You are new to this, are you not?" The slave nodded his head ever so slightly. Wex enjoyed the look of shock on his face when his hand collided with one sharp cheekbone. "I want answers when I ask you a question."

The slave blinked, brushing red gold lashes to clear his pain clouded eyes. "Yes, I am new to this." His voice was rough and quiet from disuse, syllables softened by an inner core accent.

Wex backhanded him across the other cheek, leaving two twin bright red palm prints on his pale skin. "You will call me 'master' or 'sir' when addressing me. Understood?"

The slave nodded. "Yes, Master."

"Very good. Now, tell me. What shall I call you? Slave doesn't have a good ring to it, and you are not young enough to merely call boy."

He hesitated a moment before muttering, "Ben, sir."

"Ben," Wex mused, playing with the name on his tongue, "I suppose it's not horrible enough to change. Very well then, Ben."

He reached down to grasp the man's hips with his hands, leaned forward, and took his lips in a bruising kiss, clinking their teeth and nipping his lips until he tasted metal. Wex pulled back, grinning at the shocked expression and kiss-swollen lips that he decided was a very nice look on the man.

Wex trailed his fingers over the man's chest and pinched a rosy nipple, smiling when that garnered a surprised "hnnng". A red flush spread across the slave's cheeks; whether it was from lust or shame, Wex didn't know. He didn't particularly care either.

"What - what are you doing?" Ben gasped, squirming in his grip.

"Exploring my property," Wex explained, twisting the sensitive nub until it pebbled and hardened and he was gratified with a soft moan, "Hold still."

Wex continued to tease and play with Ben's nipples for a bit, the slave gasping and panting as he did so. Eventually he moved on with one final pinch. A look at Ben's face revealed wide eyes and an almost tortured expression. He would definitely have to remember that bit of sensitive information.

He slid a hand down Ben's trembling, well-muscled stomach. Everyone he knew seemed to go for the curvy, big breasted females or stick-thin males who could barely hold their heads up, but Wex always preferred specimens with a little more meat on their bones. He carefully inspected the slave, walking around him, running his hands over the smooth skin of his back, tracing the various scars littered over his body, palming the hard bulge under his skirt, pinching and fondling his ass cheeks. Ben did as he was told, standing still while his master's hands ran up and down and rubbed all over his body, groaning as he nipped the sensitive spot behind his ear, outright shouting as he gave his slid one finger firmly between his buttocks.

Satisfied with the quality of his purchase (and the lovely little gasps and moans he made during the inspection), Wex stole another kiss from Ben's bruised lips. "Lie down on the bed," he ordered with a sharp smack to the slave's bottom.  

Ben did as he was told, lying with his back to the sheets with perhaps a bit more trepidation than Wex would have liked. He watched as his master undressed, slowly, and then prostrated himself on the bed as Wex crawled over and sat on his slim hips. Bending down, Wex kissed him firmly on the lips, roving down the smooth path of his pale throat.

"I've had pleasure slaves before," he murmured against Ben's neck,  "I've always had to be gentle with them - none have ever seen as much...action as you have. You can handle a bit of rough, can't you?"

When the slave didn't respond, Wex bit down on the juncture between neck and shoulder, causing him to cry out. "I ask you a question, whore."

"Y-yes master," Ben gasped. Appeased, Wex growled and hooked his arms around Ben's waist, roughly flipping him over onto his stomach. Ben let out as small "oomph" as the breath was knocked from his lungs. Dark bruises in the shape of handprints already littered his backside. Wex snarled - he would have to speak with D'Nar about damaging his property before a transaction.

The man lay stock still as Wex scooped the jar of oil from his bedside table. Flipping the sheer fabric of the skirt up over his ass, Wex dipped his fingers in the oil jar. Ben hissed and tensed as one finger slid into him. The elder man rubbed a soothing hand over his back, waiting until the salve relaxed to continue.

Wex added another finger, crooking them and turning them just right until he found - "Oh!" - there. He rubbed the little spot with his fingers, massaging it until Ben was a trembling, whimpering mess.

"Hmm, do you like that? You like me hitting your little pleasure spot, huh, whore?" He continued to finger his slave for a little while, preparing him as the little slut gasped and moaned and pleaded unintelligible words. A few minutes and three fingers later, Wex removed his hand, the slave exhaling a sigh of mixed relief and disappointment.

Both emotions were short lived as Wex oiled himself up and entered the slave in one brutal thrust. Ben let out a strangled cry, clutching the sheets in a death grip as Wex started thrusting into him at a punishing pace. Wex fucked the slave hard and fast as Ben writhed and whimpered beneath him.

Wex never would have pegged the quiet, stoic Jedi warrior as a screamer, but once he angled his hips and hit his prostate head on, Ben was anything but quiet. Every thrust slammed into the specific spot in just the right angle, and soon enough Ben came under him with one last gasping cry.

It only took a few more thrusts before Wex found his release with a groan. He collapsed on top of Ben, sated and exhausted. Ben was trembling under his fingers, eyes clenched shut and breathing shallow, but Wex was sure it was simply from a lack of energy and perhaps a bit of stress from his journey to Sinteen. In due time, the slave would come to accept his place in the universe. All in due time.

Wex fell asleep soon enough, leaving the man lying next to him wide awake. A slow, cold fury was burning its way through his stomach, shot through with disgust and self-loathing. Listening to the harsh snores of the man half lying on him, Obi-Wan Kenobi was already planning his escape.

Notes:

Pretty crack fic, ik. Let me know how I did? Comments and kudos always welcome!