Obi-Wan awakened to find himself lying on a bed in the darkness, wrists and ankles restrained by tight bonds. His stomach felt queasy from whatever the Senator had used to knock him out, and he could not summon the Force to his command.

Nor could he reach Qui-Gon, no matter how hard he tried. His mental calls seemed to fall into a dark abyss, and he fought a surge of fear at his helplessness. He had no idea why the Senator had chosen him to abduct for...whatever use the Senator intended to make of him, but he had a strong feeling that his fate would not be good if he did not find a way to free himself.

He tugged at the restraints. They remained tight and secure, but his left wrist brushed a sharp furniture corner. He could not tell if it was part of the bed or a nightstand, but with a little effort he could scrape the cord against the hard, slightly rough edge. It frayed slowly, strand by strand. His wrist ached, but he kept on working, fighting to keep his concentration. Finally, the cord broke, but before he could free himself completely, he heard a noise outside. He froze.

With every nerve still screaming a warning, Obi-Wan held very still and listened. The door across the room opened, and the dark presence he had felt entered. He tracked the intruder by the soft shuffle of feet across the carpet-the suffocating darkness hid all other signs of the being's identity or whereabouts.

"Well, my young friend," the cultured voice said from too close beside him. Obi-Wan started. The Senator from the party. The memories of the night before snapped back into place, and his sense of foreboding intensified. "You seem to have been busy."

The wrist he had cut free suddenly burned with an intense heat. He gasped. The Senator should not have been able to see the evidence of his escape attempt in the pitch black room, but Obi-Wan was not entirely surprised. To his Force-sense, the Senator seemed made of the darkness, himself. Such darkness was repulsive to a Jedi, stomach-turning... yet the burning in his wrist was not entirely unpleasant. And as the edge of the bed bent under the Senator's weight, a prickle of excitement crawled through Obi-Wan's body. At the party, the Senator had seemed harmless, even stodgy, but with his true aura unmasked, he was the most powerfully compelling creature Obi-Wan had ever encountered. When the Senator reached to grasp his freed wrist, Obi-Wan turned his hand to allow his palm to be caressed.

The caress lasted for long moments until Obi-Wan's breathing harshened from the silken, electric touch. The Senator chuckled. "Ah, such a lovely boy you are." The man's hand tightened painfully on his, and Obi-Wan gasped again. "You know what I am, don't you?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan choked on the word as the soft caress resumed. He was at once more terrified and more aroused than he had ever been in his life. "Sith."

He could feel the Sith Lord-for he could be nothing else-smile like a ray of heat against his face. "A well-deduced conclusion. And you know what I am going to do with you."

The hand stilled again, thumb on his pulsepoint, and Obi-Wan struggled for mental lucidity. "Are you going to kill me?"

The Senator laughed. The disconcertingly merry sound cut through the tension in the darkness, but did not alleviate it. "I certainly hope not." Despite the jolly tone, Obi-Wan had enough presence of mind to note that the man had not ruled the possibility out entirely. "No, I have something much more rewarding planned for you. Rewarding for me, at least, and hopefully for you, as well." The Sith cupped his other hand against Obi-Wan's cheek, thumb finding the pulse in his throat. He leaned down until Obi-Wan felt hot breath on his face. "Not that I wouldn't take the greatest pleasure in spilling your blood, my young Jedi friend. But perhaps not tonight. Tonight I will take a more base pleasure with you."

Obi-Wan tells the Sith bastard to get his filthy hands off him

Obi-Wan gives into the Senator's lustful advances