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He wakes up in a bacta tank, and sighs as much as the mask over his face allows him to.
Obi-Wan can’t remember what landed him here, but he knows it can’t have been anything good since they tend to reserve bacta for severe injuries.
Evaluating himself, he finds that whatever injury he might have had has been healed by the medical miracle surrounding him. Aiming to kick up to the surface and be rid of the shoulder harness, he’s surprised to find he’s unable to.
It’s at that moment (his disorientation at waking up in bacta clearing) he realizes there’s something inside his ass, spreading him open. He shakes his head, more than a little chagrinned he hadn’t noticed it immediately.
Looking down, he sees beyond the standard weight belt that he’s wearing a pair of soft booties that have been magnetized to the tank’s floor. Aside from the weight belt, an odd pair of straps around his thighs (likely keeping what’s in his ass in place), the booties, and the shoulder harness, he’s completely naked. Whatever is happening, or about to happen, he won’t be escaping it anytime soon.
Glancing around, he notices two blurry figures standing outside his tank. Reaching into the Force, Patches’ and Cody’s presences flare brightly. Reassured he hasn’t been captured, but wary about the fact there’s something in his ass, Obi-Wan taps at the transparisteel.
“Glad to have you awake, General,” Patches says, and Obi-Wan realizes there’s a commlink in his ear since the sound comes through perfectly clear, rather than muffled by the bacta.
He tries to respond, but the positive pressure of the air being forced into his lungs by the mask prevents it. Instead, he gestures downward.
“Oh, right. Well, we wanted to make sure you stayed in the tank until your treatment was done.” And Obi-Wan’s eyes widen a little, because ‘treatment’ shouldn’t have had that much emphasis on it. “You might have noticed the toy in your ass. Commander Cody was very insistent it be part of your treatment plan.”
Obi-Wan hears Cody’s soft snicker drift over the connection, and feels dread pool together with the lust building in his gut. Cody only laughs like that when he’s just thought of a way to destroy multiple droid battalions at once, usually with a precise explosion.
“According to the Commander, you’ve been far too tense lately. And studies have shown that sexual stimulation can lead to a release of overall tension.”
Patches would sound clinical if it weren’t for the fact that Obi-Wan can see his grin pretty clearly even with the transparisteel and bacta distortion.
“Since you can’t really speak right now, we’ll be giving you a safety signal. Make your right hand into a fist, and tap it over your heart twice.”
Obi-Wan does. It’s an easy movement, but one he’s not likely to make even if he’s flailing about.
“Would you like to stop before we start, sir? Make the gesture if so.”
Obi-Wan lets his hands float by his sides, and feels a wave of lust hit the Force at his easy acceptance.
“I’m going to let the Commander take over now. I can monitor remotely and leave you two alone, or I can stay. And watch. Field hand signals, please.”
Obi-Wan whimpers at the idea. These encounters with Cody have been increasing in frequency lately. Many of them have involved other vod, and Obi-Wan has found that he rather likes being observed. And touched. And pleasured by multiple people just as much as he likes giving them pleasure in return.
He curls his hand into a fist and pulls it down. Keep position.
“Excellent, sir. I’ll be watching.”
And Patches steps back from the tank, taking a nearby chair and picking up a datapad to, presumably, monitor him.
“Hello, Obi-Wan,” Cody practically purrs into his ear through the microphone. Obi-Wan jerks in the tank a little, not expecting it. The motion also means that whatever’s in his ass presses into his prostate. “I’m not happy that you put yourself in danger again and got hurt.”
Obi-Wan squirms a little. He can’t defend himself like this.
“But you accomplished the mission, and you kept so many of us alive that I genuinely can’t be mad at you. I might lecture you later, but not now. In fact, I thought you deserved a little reward.”
Now hyper-aware of what’s tucked into his body, Obi-Wan clenches down on it.
“Now, now. Don’t get too excited until I try out some of these features. Fab in Engineering made it special. To my specifications.”
Obi-Wan whines as best as he can. Fab (or Fabricate) is a talented engineer who has recently taken to producing toys with spare materials. The last time Cody introduced Obi-Wan to one of Fab’s creations, he’d cum so hard it took him almost a minute to set the objects in the room he’d levitated with the Force back down.
Cody taps a small device against the tank, and Obi-Wan realizes it’s a remote.
“Whatever one should I try first?” Cody muses. “Ah yes. How about this one?”
He taps one of the buttons on the device.
Obi-Wan doesn’t notice anything at first. And then, it becomes all too apparent that the (plug? dildo?) device is expanding, gaining both width and length. He clenches down unconsciously, which forces him to gasp.
“If I had my way, I think I’d keep you stuffed full all the time.” Squirming, Obi-Wan lets a hand drift down to his cock, which has started filling out. “Did I tell you you could touch?”
He shakes his head, moving his hand back to its original position.
“There we go. So good for me. I think we’ll see what else this thing can do.”
Obi-Wan misses Cody tapping another button because he closes his eyes, but the effect is immediate this time: a low, thumping vibration that radiates up and down the toy.
He tries to pull his legs up to get away from the pressure and the sensation. He’s instantly denied when the booties keep him firmly affixed to his spot.
“You just have to float there and take it. You can do that, can’t you? For me? And Patches? What do you think, Patches? Think Obi-Wan can be good and just do what he’s told?”
“Considering his usual record in medbay, I’m thinking he can’t,” comes the muffled reply.
“You hear that, Obi-Wan? Patches doesn’t have faith you can follow orders.”
If Obi-Wan could talk, he’d have words for Patches, but he can’t, so he just keeps his hands fisted at his sides.
The toy grows little ridges and bumps, a fair number of which seem to center around torturing his prostate. He whines, a noise that vibrates across his whole chest and into the bacta.
“You know, I just can’t decide which toy is my favorite of all the ones I’ve played with so far. This toy has so many fun functions, but I’ve always liked Obi-Wan the best.”
Obi-Wan’s hips jerk forward, eyes going wide, but his motion is arrested by the booties and his shoulder harness.
The toy starts shrinking and then growing again in a poor imitation of thrusting, still thumping and throbbing all the while. The little ridges and bumps are as infuriating as they are stimulating.
“Now, Patches, what do we think would be the better outcome? If we give Obi-Wan a little countdown, and he has to come by the time I reach zero? Or if we see how long he can last?”
“I’d say the countdown, just because I know you’re a contrary bastard and will do the opposite of whatever I say.”
Cody appears to take that in for a moment. “Fair. See how long he can last it is.”
Obi-Wan whines, the sound disappearing into his mask. Obi-Wan shuts his eyes, tired of keeping them open in the bacta.
“Now, I don’t want you straining yourself trying to hold out, but if you come in the next 60 seconds, I’ll be very disappointed. We may even have to put you through the remedial training again.”
Obi-Wan shudders. Remedial training had been an exercise in edging where interested members of the 212th had tied him to a bench and then toyed with his body for hours. He’d been denied the permission to cum the entire time, a cock ring ensuring his compliance. In the end, the orgasm had been explosive, but he has no desire to go through that again.
He shakes his head, hoping that’s what Cody wants to see, and gets an approving hum in his ear. “I know you won’t. Although you are rather pent-up, I bet. We haven’t been able to play with you since weeks before this campaign even started. This is actually Fab’s third model. We tested it out for you, made sure to offer new features you might like.”
Obi-Wan moans as the mental image of Cody riding the toy drifts to him, his ever-competent Commander bringing himself to completion and then making improvement notes. He’s not sure if it’s his own imagination or Cody pressing the image to him in the Force, but he does know it makes his cock jerk up higher in the bacta.
“Such a slut,” Cody says fondly. “We’d do anything for you, if you’d just let us.”
Obi-Wan knows this. It’s as beautiful as it is terrifying to have loyalty like this.
Another tap on the remote, and Obi-Wan almost swallows his own tongue as the thumping pattern changes to a low hum that builds in intensity, then drops down before building even higher the next time.
“There we go. I’m betting not long now.”
“You’re requisitioning more bacta tank filters. I am not filling out that form.”
“I bet we’d have vode who’d volunteer to bathe in it.”
Patches sighs, the sound crackling from the distance. “I’m sure we would, but that’s so far from the point it’s practically past the reaches of the Outer Rim. Oh, he’s close.”
Starting, Obi-Wan realizes he’s right. He’d sort of drifted into a meditative state, Cody’s voice crooning filth in his ear and his healed body swaying in the bacta’s tanks recirculating currents. In that time, his arousal has been coaxed up slowly but inexorably. He whines as he realizes he’s about to cum.
“Are you close, Obi-Wan?” He opens his eyes, nodding. Beyond the transparisteel, Cody looks smugly pleased. “That’s good. So good.”
Another movement on the remote, and the rhythm of the toy pulses up even higher. The toy spreads him wider, driving deeper inside him.
“Wrap your hand around your cock. Stroke your balls. Work yourself until you cum.”
Obi-Wan moves both of his hands forward immediately. The shoulder harness and booties keep him from curling up how he wants, but he knows Cody (and Patches) want a show, and he intends to give them one.
He cradles his balls in his left hand, fondling them gently. His right hand he lets close around the shaft of his cock, highlighting the rapidly purpling head standing out from the ring of his fingers. He strokes himself as slowly as he can stand with the toy’s relentless prodding and thudding, and the lust broadcasting loudly (and likely deliberately) into the Force.
Lasting more than a few strokes was already an impossible dream when Cody seals his fate by whispering in his ear, practically purring, “Be a good boy and cum for me, Obi-Wan.”
He cums, one hand stripping his cock roughly while the other massages his throbbing balls as they draw up tight. He clenches around the thick toy, and white ribbons stream out into the bacta, suspended in the thickened liquid. He groans into the mask, fogging it up as his huffing breaths shorten with pleasure.
And then he’s floating upwards, the booties having demagnetized and the weight belt not enough to keep him in place. The toy, still tucked up neatly inside him, starts to dial down as well, shrinking in size and letting the rhythm slow with his aftershocks. He shudders in the bacta, feeling it flow across his oversensitized skin. He knows without looking that his nipples are so hard they could probably cut through the transparisteel.
“So sweet for me.” Obi-Wan shudders as another wave of pleasure washes over him at the words. “Our sweet little slut, letting us control when he cums. Taking the pleasure we give him. Following our orders so well.”
“Like he was made for it,” Patches says, sounding a touch breathless.
Obi-Wan reaches out a hand, planting it against the transparisteel. Cody reciprocates the gesture on the other side.
“We’ll get you out in a moment. Patches here is going to give you a very thorough physical examination. I’m going to lecture you for being reckless. And then, well, we better make sure to clean all the bacta off you. I’m thinking the fresher next to Rec Room 3. Strap you down to the bench in there, hose you down, then get you absolutely filthy again. Sound good?”
Obi-Wan lifts his hand away to sign the battlefield ‘affirmative.’ Cody smiles.
“Get him out, Patches. And Obi-Wan?”
Obi-Wan looks up as Cody’s smile turns devious.
“You’ll be keeping that toy in until we say otherwise. We promised Fab we’d give it a full field test after all.”
Clenching around the toy, Obi-Wan whimpers, nods to Cody and Patches, then kicks for the surface.