Sex Object: Part I Rating: NC-17 / Slash
Gillian F. Taylor

This tale is a sequel to the end of Stress Relief, Part 3, which is also Rated NC-17 / Slash.



Wedge trusted Hobbie. He trusted him every time they went into combat together; they'd saved one another's lives too often to count. He knew consciously that Hobbie would never let any harm come to him. This called for a different degree of trust altogether.

Wedge walked slowly, putting his trust in Hobbie's hand on his arm, guiding him into a strange room. The floor was smooth and slightly soft under his bare feet. The air was pleasantly warm against naked skin, and smelt faintly of leather, musk and sweat. He could hear soft voices elsewhere in the room. There was little echo to the voices, telling him of some kind of sound-absorbent material in the room; maybe curtains, maybe something more high-tech. Wedge thought he could distinguish two male voices, at least, and one female.

Are they looking at me? Do they like what they see? Hobbie, am I doing the right thing?

Naked, but for a blindfold, he let Hobbie lead him across the room.

"Almost there." Hobbie pulled gently on Wedge's arm to halt him. "Just a couple of small steps."

Wedge shuffled forward a little, then his outstretched hands felt something in front of him. He felt something padded and covered with a strong, soft leather-like material. The object seemed to be some kind of column, taller than himself. Hobbie chuckled.

"I hope you like the feel of that," he commented. "You're going to get pretty well acquainted with it tonight."

Wedge's breathing grew a little faster with the pulse of fear and excitement that shot through him. He started slightly as Hobbie grasped his shoulder, then spoke quietly into his ear.

"I'll be with you all the time. Any time you want out, say 'out', understand?"

Wedge licked dry lips, and said "Yes," softly.

Hobbie's hand trailed down the muscles of Wedge's back. "You haven't wasted your time in the gym. I can't wait to see you on display."

The last words sent a deep thrill through Wedge's body.

A few weeks earlier, Hobbie had conned him into wearing a set of repulsor cuffs that had pinned him, spread-eagled to his bed. As Hobbie had unfastened his robe, exposing him to view, Wedge had felt like an exquisite sex toy being displayed for the other man's pleasure. He'd later confessed to Hobbie how much that had turned him on. Hobbie had smiled, and promised that if Wedge wanted, he could fix it for him to be an object for others to enjoy.

"Arrange me," Wedge whispered.

"Hold on then, to steady yourself a moment," Hobbie told him.

As Wedge held onto the column, Hobbie grasped his right ankle and lifted his foot a few centimetres, placing it on a low step. Wedge felt something brush against the outside edge of his foot, and felt the padded surface of the column against his shin. He guessed that his foot went through some kind of gap at the base of the column.

"Other foot," Hobbie said.

Wedge shifted his weight to his right foot, straightening his leg and lifting himself up to let Hobbie guide his left one into place on another low step. Now he was pressed close against the padded column. Hobbie fastened straps around his ankles, binding his legs in place. Hands took hold of his right wrist, raising his arm and fastening it above his head. There was the soft sound of footsteps, the sensation of someone moving close behind him, then his other arm was lifted and pinioned to the column.

"Looking good so far," said Hobbie's voice, somewhere close to Wedge's left side. "But not displayed to full advantage yet."

Wedge heard the faint click of a button being depressed, then the upper section of the column began to part. It split at about mid-chest height, drawing his arms apart to about 45 degrees from the vertical. There was no longer anything in front of his head or upper chest. Another click, and the lower end of the column divided, separating his legs, and leaving his lower belly and groin exposed in front. Wedge shifted slightly, adjusting himself to the new position the apparatus held him in. He was acutely aware of himself, spread-eagled with his mouth, groin and arse displayed for admiration and pleasure. His body tingled with anticipation.

"One last thing," Hobbie said.

There was another soft click, and Wedge felt a gentle heat on his head and the skin of his back.

"That's the finishing touch," said a stranger's voice, startlingly close. "Every work of art deserves a spotlight."

"Feel free to take a good look," Hobbie encouraged. "He's here to be enjoyed."

Wedge swallowed, his heart pounding faster. He could hear soft movements, the stranger circling him.

This is it. A stranger is looking at me. Do I tempt him? Does he want to touch me, stroke me? I'm displayed here, all ready for him to take, and I want it: I do. I want to feel his hands on me. This is going to be good. Touch me!

"Delightful," the man said, somewhere close behind Wedge. "He looks firm but sweet; a real pleasure to fuck."

"Oh, he is." Hobbie's voice came from in front.

Wedge started at the touch of a hand on his back. He drew in a soft, moaning breath as the hand slid down to his buttocks, caressing the taut flesh there. His penis grew harder as the stranger stroked his back and buttocks, appraising him. As his mouth opened in response to the pleasure, he felt a brief touch of warm breath against his face, then Hobbie's mouth closed on his. Wedge kissed him eagerly, accepting Hobbie's tongue into his mouth.

"Sweet and ripe," said the stranger. His hands slid forward round Wedge's slim hips, reaching for his penis.

Wedge could feel the stranger's warm, naked skin pressing against him from behind, the strength in the man's body. Firm but gentle hands stroked his hard penis, causing him to break off the kiss with moans of pleasure.

Fuck me! Fuck me! Let me give you pleasure! I'm here for you to enjoy.

The stranger released his hold, and Wedge managed to draw a long breath. Every inch of his body was thrillingly alive, his skin flushed with warmth and his heart pounding strongly in his chest. He was ready and ripe, like the stranger had said, carefully presented to be admired, played with and savoured. Hands touched him again, fingers working between his buttocks to the hole so invitingly displayed. Wedge shuddered and gasped as a lubricated finger worked its way inside him. Hobbie kissed him again, his tongue ravishing Wedge's mouth as the finger stimulated his arse.

"Very responsive," the stranger said approvingly. "I'm going to enjoy him."

The finger withdrew and the hands took hold of Wedge's hips, steadying him. Moments later, a hard cock pushed steadily into his body. Wedge's back arched, pulling him against his restraints. The stranger held still for a few moments, then as Wedge relaxed, he withdrew and thrust in again, deeper this time. Skin touched skin, the man's body pressing against Wedge's with each thrust as a rhythm built.

The stranger's grunts and gasps of excitement fuelled Wedge's own ecstasy.

Yes! Yes! He couldn't tell if he was speaking aloud the half-coherent thoughts. Come in me. I'm good, my body feels good to you. Fuck me harder. Fuck me!

His body writhed in its restraints as he lost control to the dizzying pleasure. The rhythm changed, stronger, faster as the man fucking him approached orgasm.

You're going to ... you're going to!

Wedge's head tilted back, a cry ripping out of him as he came, jerking hard against his bonds.

The stranger grunted, a deep animal noise. He thrust frantically into Wedge's spasming body and came too.

Slowly, Wedge's breathing and pulse slowed, and the fog of orgasm cleared. The stranger's hot, sweaty body was still pressed up against his, the softening penis still in his arse. He could hear the man's breathing, close by his left ear, and the small sounds of satisfaction. As Wedge lifted his drooping head, fingers caressed his cheek, and he knew that Hobbie was still close by. He turned his head slightly and kissed Hobbie's fingers.

The stranger shifted, gently withdrawing himself from Wedge's body. A hand stroked his side in a gesture of thanks.

"A most exquisite toy." The man addressed his words to Hobbie. "Just as promised."

"He's a real pleasure to use," Hobbie agreed.

Drained as he was, the words still sparked a thrill in Wedge's groin.

He heard Hobbie move slightly; a soft click, and the apparatus moved. His arms and legs came closer together and he bit down a groan as suddenly aching muscles protested the movement. As Wedge shifted, flexing tired limbs, a light covering was draped over his shoulders and back. It was comforting and warm in the aftermath of orgasm. A few moments later, Hobbie asked if he wanted a drink.

"Mmm, yes please."

Something brushed against his lips, and Wedge opened his mouth to take a slender drinking tube. The drink offered was some kind of juice, refreshing and slightly sweet.

When he'd done drinking, Hobbie began to rub him with the cloth that covered him. Wedge enjoyed the attention as Hobbie cleaned him up and eased the stressed muscles of his limbs by massage. He felt pampered and cared for, in a way that rarely occurred in his normal life.

If you can call my life normal, Wedge thought. I live with death. Friends and comrades die and keep dying. I've lived with that since I joined the Rebellion. People I care about die, and I keep on living with the hurt. I don't know whether I'm doomed to die like they did, vaped, burnt, blown up, frozen in vacuum; my life taken from me too soon. Or whether I'm doomed to the pain and guilt of watching others die while I live on.

And how many have died at my hands? No one can count them. Every one of them must have had someone, somewhere, who cared about them. My normal life is about death.

Hobbie was working on Wedge's right leg, rubbing the calf muscles with regular, long strokes. His touch was assured, restoring energy and life to Wedge's body.

Hobbie could be the next to die. But I can carry this memory of him while I live. This place isn't about death; it's about being alive. Being able to touch and feel; to give and receive pleasure. That man felt alive as he fucked me. I get tired of a life centred on killing and causing pain. Here, instead of being a weapon, I can be a toy. A toy to give pleasure and make people smile.

A sudden light slap on his buttocks jerked Wedge abruptly from his reflective mood.

"You all right there?" Hobbie asked with unusual good cheer.

"Yes. Feeling pretty good, in fact." Wedge flexed his muscles and found that the stiffness had gone.

"You look good," Hobbie said. "Very tempting, all stretched out there in front of me, just waiting to be played with."

A light kiss at the base of his spine sent tingles up Wedge's back, and down towards his groin.

"It's what I'm here for," Wedge said.

"I'm glad to hear it," said a new voice, female. "I do like to play with men."

To Part II



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