De-stress

by Anonymous (ao3)

Chapter 1

Waking up to the same dull, featureless room, Cal Kestis, Jedi Knight, came to a rather mundane conclusion. 

He was slowly losing his mind.

Which he believed was the opposite of this place's intended purpose, ironically enough.

Four white walls set between a white ceiling and floor surrounded him. Every surface padded and bare with no furnishing to speak. A sterile plasteel panel fixed overhead kept the room lit in boring, non offensive shades. The faint scent of cleaner wafted in the air.

Yet it was not the fault of boring surroundings alone that left him mentally unwell.

Engulfing his torso was a snug straitjacket made of some white latex like substance overlaid with secure straps of tough white fabric. His very own sticky, rubbery, second skin that adhered with surprisingly little give, keeping his arms crossed tight around his upper stomach.

To make sure he could slip out of it from the bottom, a whole strip of the stuff slid between his legs and buckled to the back. Allegedly, it served the dual purpose of preserving his dignity, but the material was so tight it conformed around… it, leaving little to the imagination.

The only non-white thing to grace his field of vision was his tan, freckled legs stretching limply out in front of him. Occasionally his red hair would sway across his face and he would stare at it longer than had to be healthy.

Nothing existed inside his room to keep him occupied, stimulated. Not even the Force trickling at the edges of his awareness.

Left with nothing else to do, his mind turned to how he got in this predicament for the millionth time. It wasn't some climatic battle ending in his narrow loss, or a stunning betrayal of a trusted friend.

He was investigating a lead for the Hidden Path on some Outer Rim planet, felt a stun blast hit his back while walking down the street, and woke up in this.

At first he figured slavers, Imperials, or bounty hunters, but the one who walked through the door introduced himself as a nurse and was dressed the part too. Cool blue scrubs under an easygoing smile with a utilitarian datapad crooked in arm. A little symbol embroidered into the chest: a stylized heart wrapped in white ribbons above the words Dalyu Institute for the Mentally Unwell.

In disbelief, Cal was informed he was stuck in this predicament not because he was a criminal, not because he was a Jedi, not even because he was sick.

But because he was too stressed.

This insane planet he unwittingly stumbled on supposedly took the mental health of its citizens and visitors so seriously it would detain them for treatment if their stress levels passed some arbitrary limit.

Needless to say, recent events had been… trying on him. Losing his squad on Coruscant, his confrontations with the Bedlam Raiders and Dagan, and his tense reunion with his old crew all occurred in a very short time frame. Sleep had been hard to come by of late. Harder than usual…

Still, these psychos had no right to do this! If they did decide to forcefully butt into his problems, couldn't they have hired a therapist or something more conventional?

Instead, they ignored any logical arguments to the contrary and proclaimed he would remain in this padded cell to ‘meditate’ and ‘relax’ until he could bring down his ‘stratospheric’ stress levels.

Just thinking of the indignations he'd suffered here made him let out a short scream of bottled rage. His own voice was unfamiliar in the suffocating silence of his room.

All the contact he saw in his daily routine boiled down to the three checkups a day his primary nurse entered to give. Well… he assumed they were three a day. Truth be told, he long lost track of time in the endless white. He could have been here for months none the wiser.

Typically, his day started soon after waking up, whether that was in the actual morning or not he couldn't say. They monitored him in here constantly, and knew exactly when he came to. Pretending to sleep hadn't fooled them once.

Following his awakening, they gave him a varying amount of time to gather himself before entering; Cal assumed the gap was never more than an hour.

When his caregiver entered, they did so with a tray of food and a… and a… device that let him relieve himself. After the first was empty and the second full, they left him alone until repeating the process twice later in the day. Sometimes there would be extra steps that didn't adhere to any schedule he could pin down like shaving, cutting his nails, or wiping his exposed skin with a damp rag.

Then he went to sleep, and the process repeated.

That was it: feeding and maintenance. When they weren't tending to his needs, the orderlies of this asylum left him completely alone. Alone, alone, alone.

Responding to his growing anger, the Force reared up, prepared to lash out at something-anything around him, but just before the swelling wave was set to break...

Buzz.

A small tingle shot up Cal's spine, and like that, the whole thing fell apart. The rolling sea calmed to tranquility. Cal scowled at nothing. It wasn't unexpected, but it was always vexing.

If he actually had access to the Force he wouldn't still be here. As it was explained to him on his very first day, this rotten facility developed a chip that sensed usage of the Force through a small sliver of embedded kyber. Once the quantity grew large enough to use, it dispensed a harmless electrical shock to the area of his brain responsible for it, disrupting the connection.

Cal wasn't totally cut off, just barred from touching. Often he wished he was cut off entirely because sensing the power at his fingertips but unable to use it in any meaningful way was worse. It was taunting.

A small clunk had him perk up. The seamless wall of his cell broke as a rectangular section swung open. Time to start the day again.

“Good morning, Cal, I see you slept well!” His assigned caretaker, Aldra, was chipper as ever, greeting him like a nurse putting his all into bedside manner instead of one of his unhinged kidnappers.

Normally, carrying yourself with empathy, compassion, and kindness meant you were a good person; Aldra proved the exception to the rule, turning every trait unintentionally mocking. Were he a regular nurse at a regular facility doing the best he could for his patients, fighting tooth and nail to get them all they deserved, Cal wouldn't have minded getting to know him. Circumstances being what they were, his unerring positivity shined a grim light over his captivity.

The twisted morals of his homeworld directed him to imprison patients ‘for their own good’, a viewpoint further reinforced by the echo chamber of its medical profession. Underneath his kind exterior was a man who believed in his own righteous cause and wouldn’t take no for an answer. If he were being generous, Cal would call Aldra misguided; if he wasn’t, a zealot.

Suffice to say, he was quickly taking top spot on Cal’s list of most detested people. He glared at them from his spot on the floor.

They were a tall Soikan, a species of near humans with pale white hair and silver skin that occasionally dipped into shades of purple matching their lilac eyes on account of their purple blood. They were a people with a delicate frame, but Aldra displayed lithe musculature under his baggy scrubs. All the orderlies of this facility had to be prepared to restrain their unruly patients. Buried deep in Cal’s mind was the knowledge he would have found him attractive were he not one of those patients himself.

Once inside, Aldra closed the door behind him and set the duffel bag he carried over his shoulder by the wall. He unzipped the top of it and fished around for a small container he plucked out. In addition to that, he retrieved a sturdy datapad he hung from a loop on his waist.

Undeterred by Cal's lack of a response, he continued to speak. “Today we have Lokly Berry flavoring. You like that?”

He'd never tried one.

“If I said yes would it get me out of here sooner?” 

Aldra laughed like it was a joke instead of a genuine question. “Nope!”

Cal suppressed his scowl as Aldra knelt beside him on the floor, irreverent to the concept of personal space.

Next the Soikan poked a small disposable straw into an insertion point on the container’s top. Gently, he slotted the thing into a loop on Cal's straightjacket centered right above his chest and strapped it in with a single tug. 

Now the straw was perched right in front of his face, at his leisure. How nice of them to accommodate for the restraints they put him in!

The datapad hanging from Aldra's waist let out a quiet beep, causing him to frown.

That datapad was connected to several sensors in the room and the chips they implanted in his body. Whenever his stress levels rose, the damned thing made it known.

Pretending not to have heard, Cal reluctantly set his lips around the straw and began drinking the slightly sweet nutrient paste, consuming it all in short order. He learned from his first weeks hunger strikes weren't a viable tactic here.

Seeing him finish consuming his breakfast, Aldra resumed smiling brightly. He removed the empty container and went back to his bag, fetching a tangle of metal Cal didn't want to look at.

“Alright, lift your legs,” he said sweetly, in a tone that made Cal's cheeks burn.

The humiliating device worked its way past his ankles and thighs, cool metal earning a twitch every time it brushed skin.

With Aldra so close, it took all his willpower not to kick him in his genial, optimistic face.

It would be satisfying but that was all. Not like he could bolt out the door with it closed; they didn't open from this side. All it would do was lead to harsher security measures and more scrutiny.

They already knew he wanted to escape, it was why they trapped him in this padded cell. Apparently, once he showed ‘sufficient understanding of his condition’ and proved his ‘dedication towards getting the help he deserved’ they would reduce his risk level-and implicitly-his excessive restraints.

It was all Cal could do to wait for that day, considering rescue hadn't come after so long.

What was he expecting though? His whole team was dead. Killed on Coruscant with the exception of Bode, who he deliberately hadn't roped into the mission. Jedi work could be very dangerous, and he wanted to keep Bode far away from that. The Hidden Path might pick up his location eventually, but even if they were able to launch a rescue mission with their limited resources, Cal arrived on this cursed planet chasing a lead uncovered via psychometry. There was no clear-cut trail for would be rescuers to follow.

He was stuck. 

He didn't register the datapad beeping again as Aldra firmly brought the metal device up to his waist and tightened up its sides to properly fit.

It was constructed like a pair of undergarments. Three joined bands with two circling his waist and one overlaying that latex strip between his legs, except altogether much too small, causing his package to get crushed inward and the latex to ride up his ass. It was incredibly uncomfortable.

Sadly, it only got worse.

After securing it on him, Aldra leaned back on his knees and accessed his pad. Navigating the menus with a few easy taps, he turned the device on.

Little lights on the side flashed white and a small whirring noise accompanied. Cal squirmed slightly as everything suddenly became tighter.

It brought to mind falling into the grip of a monster. Which, in a manner of speaking, he had. A bewildering, incomprehensible monster with an affable face that wanted what it thought best for him and wasn't taking no for an answer.

The true purpose of the device was waste removal and it worked in conjunction with the makeup of his straitjacket.

Whatever type of latex they used to fashion his prison was super absorbent, allowing it to soak up any sweat, skin particles, or other excretions Cal made. Following this, his caretaker would affix him with the aforementioned device to coax it all out.

If that was all of it, it might not be so bad, but… it wasn't exactly a modest experience.

In the process of cleaning him, the device would suck out what little air existed in the absorbent material.

Every speck of him the jacket covered was brought into awful clarity as the latex contracted with rubbery squeaks.

Previously amorphous white began defining his curves and valleys by squeezing onto his pecs, abs, and other assorted muscle groups. By the end, even his nipples and belly button were faintly visible under the thinned substance.

Though thin didn't mean weak. Each time Cal underwent the process, he tested the give of his restraints and found them even less forgiving than usual, barely humoring him with a stretched out inch before snapping back into place. The extra fabric straps wrapping around his forearms and biceps were practically decoration for all they were needed to keep him contained.

Aldra glanced at his pad in anticipation for several seconds before frowning. “Again, Cal? Can we not get past this? You're usually so well behaved.”

Seething in place, Cal didn't bother to respond. 

“I get it,” he said gently, "it's scary to relinquish control, but it's not the end of the galaxy you make it out to be. Everyone shoulders burdens, but an important step in a healthy existence is realizing which of those burdens are necessary to take on and which can be handed off.” He placed a hand on Cal's shin and Cal nearly knocked his teeth in then and there.

“Or you could just let me out! Give me a fresher!” For all he reminded himself to play the rule-abiding patient, Cal could never get himself to comply with the facilities requirements at this step.

Because that was what was underneath all those flowery words. They wanted him to wet himself! They couldn't be bothered giving him a bed, closet, or a toilet!

“Cal, as your primary caregiver I cannot authorize fresher access for you at this stage,” Aldra replied patiently–always patiently, it drove him mad! “Internalizing that others are here to take care of your needs is an important step in your personal healing journey. Doing things on your own for so long is what delivered you into our care in the first place.”

No, it was you freaks kidnapping him! Cal wanted to scream, but he bit it down. He'd pushed the boundaries enough today. Last thing he wanted was to provoke them into delaying his ‘journey’. With no help on the way it was up to him to find a way out, something he couldn't manage trapped in this cell. And in the worst case scenario, if doing it himself was impossible, he'd have to get them to let him out.

Aldra's studious expression faltered as his datapad beeped. Knowing the conversation was over, he sighed. “I'll set it for two minutes, okay? It's fine if you can't manage today, no pressure. I'm sorry if it sounded like I was pressing. We'll get there at the pace you feel comfortable with.”

Then he would be waiting forever. This was hands down the most demeaning part of his day. Beyond the white walls. Beyond the straitjacket. Beyond the sippy cup.

Pure, unadulterated degradation.

Cal spent every second of it glaring. At Aldra, at the floor, and especially at the stupid belt. Once the allotted time passed, his personal torture device emitted a quick chime.

Sensing he had not fulfilled his end of the bargain, a small electric shock not unlike the Force negating chip in his neck was dispensed.

However in a competition between the two he would overwhelmingly prefer the latter.

Just so, for all his noble struggle, it was this minor whimper that ensured he never managed to avoid smashing his dignity in the end.

Stimulated by the faint shock, his bladder happily betrayed him, opening itself right up.

Worst of all, it felt good.

The contented groan slipped right past his lips before he could stop it.

Due in part to how specialized the nutrition paste was for his anatomy specifically, his body absorbed it rather fast. Making matters worse, it also boasted a high water content. The annoyance of his full bladder was about as omnipresent as the white surrounding him. Unless he followed his ‘doctor's’ advice and relieved himself, that is.

He wasn't even wet during the act. The device was able to siphon it as fast as it flowed out, yet it didn't make it any better. In some regards, it was worse because it made the whole thing too easy. Tempting. A nagging voice in his head growing louder every day was telling him to do it himself and get it over with, show his captors ‘improvement’ so they could all move on.

Somewhat morbidly, moments like these nearly made him glad the Order was gone. Returning to them after enduring this would have been unbearable. He’d only felt like that a few times on Bracca when the planet’s harsh environment forced him to commit less than savory acts to survive.

While he was busy soiling himself, Aldra started mumbling over his datapad. “Yes, that's what I thought…”

“Thought what!?” Snapped Cal, already at his limit for the day and it had barely started. His usual mantra of play nice was dim background noise.

“Disposal analysis detected traces of precum in your groin cover.” 

He said it so matter-of-factly Cal choked, leaving him unable to respond before Aldra giddily continued.

“We speculated the cause of your strong endorphin release last night. Don't need to guess anymore, right?”

His knowing smile made Cal blush furiously. They picked up on that? Mortification threatened to bury him.

It was bad enough experiencing it firsthand last night. Other people finding out was the worst case scenario. Put a huge damper on his current plan of taking it to his grave.

For some reason unfathomable to his own conscious mind, he conjured a treacherous wet dream starring his friend Bode. Just thinking of it brought back the sensations that had him bolting up from sleep, heart pounding, achingly erect.

Looming over him, squeezing him, relaxing in his hold, kissing–

Cal shut down that train of thought so fiercely it rattled his teeth. Already, the area between his legs felt tight under the unforgiving belt.

He wasn't going to lie to himself and claim he didn't find Bode physically attractive, but he was careful to never let his emotions grow past that. Doing a double take the first time he met the man was the extent Cal allowed himself. Afterwards he studiously kept his eyes off. Pursuing romance with the kind of life he led would only bring pain to any prospective partner. That reality was part of the reason there was such a wedge between him and Merrin.

His mind sluggishly added that attachments were forbidden for Jedi, too, while trying not to linger on how distant a second reason it was to everything else.

Of course, Aldra picked up on his wretched expression. No surprise there, Cal couldn’t even hide his real name from the Empire. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed by! This represents a major breakthrough in your treatment.”

Huh?

Next he flipped his pad screen to Cal, enthusiastically showing off like a researcher publicizing his prized results. On it, a chart with several lines corresponding to who knows what plateaued near the top except for a spot near the very end where they precipitously dropped. In the short time afterward it steadily rose back up over a small mountain range of climbing spikes, but the initial dip was eye-catching.

Even a layman like Cal could read between the lines of what he was seeing. This institute wasn't subtle about its goals for him. 

“Our specialists noticed your current treatment method wasn't adequate for your needs, and we been looking into alternate options.”

“Current treatment? You've done nothing but lock me in this cell all day!”

Aldra softened, looking regretful. “You’re right, and we… apologize sincerely. There isn't much public data on treating Jedi, so when it came time to draft your plan we defaulted to hearsay. We heard Jedi calm their minds through meditation, so we hoped giving you time and space in a location free from the Empire's reach. would see you regulate your emotions naturally. We see now a more active approach needs to be taken.”

The only way for Cal to express his misgivings over that was by curling his toes since his hands were trapped in a flattened position. He was starting to regret opening his mouth. He did not like the sound of that at all. In fact, he positively dreaded it prior to the Force suppressing chip clearing away the gifted premonition.

“What does that mean?”

“It's a surprise! Turn around.”

“Wha- no, just tell me!”

“I'm not. It's important we establish a bond of trust.”

“Come on.” Cal wasn't proud of how it came out, a mix between whine and plea, but he suffered from a strike of nerves. So far, his ‘treatment’ worked on a set schedule. Interactions with staff saw the same thing repeat every day: they fed him, cleaned him, engaged in some small talk, and left. This was different–new. Cal would admit the mundanity was driving him insane, but he didn't want it to get worse.

“Cal,” Aldra said sternly. “You have to trust every professional here, myself included, wants and knows what's best for you. Treatments we administer are non optional. Following directions when and as given is the best way to avoid harming yourself and others.”

Cal wanted to slam his head into the ample bulk of padding around him and scream. Instead, he reluctantly bit his lip and followed instructions, turning to the wall. Not because he wanted to, but because being seen as a recalcitrant case would make escape so much more difficult. Increase their trust now, reap the rewards later.

“Rise onto your knees as well,” Aldra's voice drifted over his shoulder.

Cal grumbled but did so, switching from sitting to kneeling in front of the white wall. He heard the Soikan get up, rummage through his bag, and return.

“Perfect,” praised Aldra, so close behind him the padding under his knees sank backwards. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. “Now for this next step I'm going to need you to hold still and relax, can we do that?”

He didn't have much choice. “Yeah,” he was unsure if Aldra heard his shaky mumble, but the sharp nod should have sufficed to convey the message. 

When his tensed shoulders slumped, a hand snaked up the small of his back to establish a firm hold. The tug of latex told him it threaded through the fabric loops to get a better grip.

“Hey!” Cal didn't expect to be seized and tried to shake him off. He didn't know where it came from, but an onset of panic struck him. He did what they asked, why hold him down? In the short struggle that ensued, Aldra leveraged his muscle and skill, easily keeping Cal pinned to the wall and held up with the one, secured hand. In the straitjacket, Cal couldn't do much to resist being manhandled.

“Cal, what did we just discuss?”

It should have prompted him to calm down but Cal wasn't receptible. “What are you doing!? Let go!” He twisted his neck to see behind him, but Aldra lodged his elbow into Cal’s shoulder blade, wedging his chest against the wall. It made it exceptionally difficult to turn with the bonus effect of hiding everything Cal could see behind Aldra's body.

And he was doing something. While Cal squirmed, he felt a tug at his waist. The panic seized him full force then. “Get off!”

“Remember what I said, stay loose. Don't clench.” There was a small click of metal on metal and Cal felt the pressure of the belt and latex let off. Neither gettup was removed, but the portions that rode up his ass seemed to have fallen away. Judging by his sense of a touch alone, the released belt panel hung between his thighs implying there existed a hinge somewhere around the site of his perineum.

Cal bit his lip, conflicted. He never thought air flowing over his bare ass could feel so pleasant. Yet it was one thing to enjoy the removal of the jacket’s perpetual wedgie for the first time in weeks or months, another to do so with the knowledge it clearly wasn't being taken off. And that what would replace it would definitely be worse.

Sure enough, something teased the rim of his newly exposed hole. Whatever it was, was solid, smooth, and wet.

Its first brush in such a private location made him yelp and sent his heart beating a click a minute.

“Take a deep breath for me.” The rounded tip of the object firmly pressed against him.

“Kriff that!” Cal tried to pull his hips away but collided with the wall. Whatever Aldra was trying to push in him followed along. His caretaker adjusted his position, sliding in closer behind him to ensnare Cal in an inescapable hold. 

Everything froze as the object breached his rim, steady, unrelenting, huge. Aldra’s breath was in his ear. “Don't worry, it's properly lubricated and I am trained to safely work it in. Can even bring the certificate someday if you'd like!” He chuckled over Cal's breathy gasps. “Just relax for me.”

He certainly did not.

The further it entered the more Cal could make the object out. It was a Force forsaken plug. Rounded in the front, bulbous in the middle, and tapered in the back. Cal never owned one himself, but spending any amount of time on the holonet would greatly increase the viewer's understanding of such toys.

For the moment, he was unable to tell if this one was particularly large or if his own virgin hole was just tight. Both probably. 

All that really mattered was that the stretch quickly became painful. The lube and motion were reducing the strain, but Cal definitely wasn't sitting back and making it easier to violate him. Tensing did little to delay the unstoppable instrument opening him up however and only served to prolong the ordeal while delivering more hurt.

Millimeter by millimeter, he feebly parted under methodical duress. His pleas and exclamations fell on deaf ears, receiving bemused platitudes in return. Meanwhile the sore burn of his rim demanded immediate action. What form that action would take was split between limply collapse backward or spin around and attack the man in a last ditch effort but neither proved feasible because of the strong body pressed on his.

Aimless struggles were useless under an expert hand, so Cal was left to grunt and gasp feebly as the plug worked its way past his rim. At the widest length, he was ready to apologize for any sign of disobedience he ever made but didn't get the chance before it popped past and settled. His ass closed again gratefully, finding a small stem no more than the width of a finger poking out and a circular cap his sore rim hid underneath.

Free of strain, Cal immediately went limp, remaining upright solely by virtue of the hand keeping him trapped.

He vaguely felt the opened belt hatch close back and relatch. Removing the plug would be impossible without the privilege of hands. Cal also heard a small click and felt a faint twist of his innards as he was sure the plug cap connected to the belt in some way, effectively becoming one entity of torment. As one final bit of what could only be spite, Aldra readjusted the belt's tightness, sending the plug to poke just that little bit further in.

After that, the hand released from his back, but Cal steadied himself on his weak knees, keenly imagining the mess he would become were he to sit down. 

Already his guts and hole twitched rhythmically trying to come to terms with the hulking intruder. That alone sent up confusing, funny feelings that made lights dance. Jostling it any more would see him devolve into a drooling mess. Cal woodenly shuffled around, moving ever so carefully.

When he faced him, Aldra was engrossed in whatever statistic his datapad was gleaning off Cal's violation, oblivious to his patient's fury.

“What! Is! That!?” The pause between words was as much for emphasis as for maintaining composure. Simple breathing constricted the monster nestled in him and brought thrills of unwanted, foreign pleasure. The crook of the belt adhered to his groin was feeling less like tight underclothes and more like a crushing cage by the second.

“Hold on, Cal, I’ve almost set it up.” Aldra pressed something.

All the air was punched from his lungs. Cal doubled over, wracked with spasms. The hulking plug inside had begun to vibrate. “Gah! Guh!” There were questions on the tip of his tongue, but Cal couldn't form sentences, he could barely think. The vibrations weren’t strong, but the plug’s size made sure it reached everywhere. Prior to this, the only type of gratification he knew was from his hand, already an indulgence by chaste Jedi teaching. Inexperience left him overwhelmed.

While he was falling apart, Aldra was alternating glances between him and his pad, nodding in self-satisfaction. Cal would have been enraged if more pressing things were not occupying his mind. 

Eventually, he got a grip on himself and managed to suppress the spine-tingling quivers. The trick really was to loosen up, going stiff just made the vibration transfer easier. 

“Wh-y?” His voice broke and he swallowed dry. He was sweating, panting, like he outran a platoon of stormtroopers. The latex covering was uncomfortably warm on a good day, but now it was sweltering.

“Hm?” Aldra devoted his full attention to him. “Oh, suppose I should explain now. You see, when independent emotional regulation from the patient doesn't work, the law requires us to personally step in. Some facilities on the planet take that as a license to fill their charges with drugs and call it a day, but we see that as a form of cheating. Our interventions are tailored to the patient, but the most… common, we’ll say, is sexual stimulation. Works the stress right out.”

He flipped his pad and the lines had gone down again. Slight ticks all around but noticeable on a zoom in.

“That’s crazy! You can’t just… do this!” Not the most eloquent counterargument, but who could blame him? Cal pulled the sleeves of his jacket. For every failed attempt, the latex snapped back and rattled the toy in him, making him more frantic to get out, creating an awful feedback loop.

Aldra’s datapad beeped. He reacted in audible distress and navigated the menus to a new page Cal couldn't see. “Hm. This by itself isn't as effective as I'd hoped. We'll have to explore more options together. For now though,” he slowly swiped the screen and the force of the plug's vibration climbed with it, “we’ll test higher intensities.”

“Turn it–it, off-fuuuuck!” Cal had died and fallen to the grip of the dark side, there was no other explanation. He tossed from side to side as if he could dislodge the plug or reduce the contact it had with his inner walls. A shortsighted plan. It just tightened his abdominal muscles making everything worse. In addition to the soreness left from its insertion, there was now a painful cramp in his crotch. Not cramp as in muscle spasm, but cramp as in crushed.

Due to all the space it took, it was little wonder the plug’s girth reached his prostate. Cal had no doubt he would be rock solid right now were it not for the cleaning device acting as a chastity belt. His cock was forcefully held soft by hard inner padding, its subsequent tears of precum eagerly slurped up. Cal's eyes weren't far behind. It was the worst kind of overstimulation, similar to post orgasm sensitivity without even doing the deed. His body expected to grow hard when stimulated, and being kept so perfectly soft confused it.

“This is horrible. You're horrible!” Maybe a clearer mind would have understood that despite their stated intention of keeping him here, it was still in his best interest to cultivate their trust, but that was an adjective that couldn't apply to the current Cal. The line between his thoughts and his mouth was the shortest it had ever been.

“It's hard to imagine a change in circumstances when they are all you've known for so long. Your instinct to resist is very understandable, but don't be afraid. You'll have plenty of time to change your tune.”

Normally Cal wouldn't have suspected a deeper meaning in the phrase but there was something in his tone that made him question it. “W-what, do you… you mean?”

Aldra froze, an indecipherable look flashing over his face. That sent Cal into overdrive. It was almost enough to make him forget the buzz assaulting his internal, almost.

Clearly having been caught in something, Aldra contemplated the matter before deciding to come clean, “I was waiting to tell you, but I suppose you deserve to know the good news. We've been reviewing your unfortunate situation and…”

“Unfortunate situation?” Cal was incredulous. Phrasing like that led one to believe they were talking about his institutionalization, but Cal didn’t think for a second they would describe it as a bad thing. It must be something else.

A rare bit of anger creeped on Aldra's face. It made his soft features sharpen and a hint of purple collect in his cheeks. “The… um… Jedi issue.”

The loaded meaning in the word made him flinch back and the datapad beeped.

Aldra rushed to mollify him. “We understand you’re a criminal in the eyes of the Empire, but here on Dalyu we care for the wellbeing of all, criminal or no.” He slowly placed a hand on Cal's calf and reassuringly squeezed. After waiting for the initial adrenaline spike to pass through Cal, he resumed. “Turning you over to the Empire was never an option on the table, we know how they treat your kind, but because of that we found ourselves facing a dilemma. Once you're cured we have no grounds to keep you, but it is against the Dalyu Medical Oath to release patients into a hostile environment where they may suffer a relapse. However, in this case, the ‘hostile environment’ for you is the entire galaxy. Do you see the problem?”

With the plug wearing away at him Cal could only dumbly shake his head. No, let him go, please.

“A Jedi like you would be in danger of constant persecution outside our walls. As an adherent to the Oath I cannot in good conscience recommend you be released, yet by that very same Oath, I cannot keep a healthy patient from reintroduction to society. So I broached the matter with our medical board and even the governor got roped in.” This was when he broke out into a massive grin, larger than any he had seen on the Soikan’s face before. So bright it was hard to look away. So horrible he didn't want to.

“It took a few weeks of debating, but last night they unanimously agreed your health and safety must come first. Until the day the Empire loosens its policy on Force users, we're setting the length of your stay to indefinite. Isn’t this wonderful?” He squeezed his calf again and it burned like a brand.

Cal’s stomach dropped. In the ensuing rush of blood to his ears Aldra’s pad must have beeped five plus times. No! They couldn't do that!

His downward spiral didn't last long however as a massive tremor shook through his core. The vibration intensity had gone up several notches and banished the overwhelming horror from his mind.

It took much too long to regain coherence torn apart by despair and lust. “You can’t… gah! Keep me… here…!” He was heaving despite his best efforts. Arousal and exhaustion and anger all came together to leave him breathless. The room was spinning from either too much air or not enough and his nerves were too besieged to tell the difference. “Get it… out!”

Aldra looked at him with pity and wordlessly drew his finger across his pad. Just when Cal thought it was impossible for the vibrations to get stronger they did. It was like his entire skeleton was cooperating with the enemy.

Cal shook so hard from the increased onslaught his knees slipped on the fluffy padding under him and he fell on his ass–

Cal must have whited out afterwards because he came to rolling on the ground in a fit of sensory overload, caught between rutting the floor and seizing. Swaddled strictly in the belt, his trapped cock was throwing a useless tantrum, every throb of which hit him like the aftershock of an earthquake. Every inch of exposed skin now wore a sheen of sweat. To top it all off, his throat was dry and slightly sore. Who knew how loud his moans had grown?

Pulling himself up slightly, Cal's unfocused vision sharpened to see Aldra looking down at him with an expression of pride.

Cal shied away as Aldra's pale white hand reached to curve around his cheek. 

“Just like that, Cal. You were doing perfect. We've never marked better readings from you.”

He was treated like a prized tooka who impressed its owner. The whole thing made him sick.

Not helping the analogy was the way Cal tried to bite the hand. Unfortunately, Aldea pulled away in time.

Still, it succeeded in replacing pride with disappointment. Take that. Yes, he was aware that it was a stretch to call it a victory but he was desperate to take comfort in anything mundane while his body was wracked in pleasured shivers, unmade from the inside. He was doing everything he could to maintain a tenuous hold on sanity. Control on any level was a commodity in his situation.

“Dank farrik, Cal! I wish you hadn't done that. Now I'm going to have to make an incident report.”

A spike of fear drove its way deep into his gut, but he wasn't in the state of mind to figure out why.

Aldra returned to his datapad, typing in notes. He quickly spoke them under his breath as his fingers blurred. The Soikan always muttered aloud what he wrote as he wrote it. “Patient displays heightened aggression during initial stages of new treatment. Will evaluate necessity of further restraints at later time due to low severity estimation.”

Cal didn't like the sound of that at all. “M'sorry. Did'un mean'it.” He couldn't help slurring the words. The plug made him feel like his brain was being cooked.

Aldra paused, eyes sad. “I know, but my supervisor takes worker safety very seriously. Any risk of injury has to be reported and mitigated. I'm sure the automated sensors already sent them an alert anyway. I wouldn't do this if there were any other choice but there's no getting out of this. Here let me take your mind off it.”

The source of his torment shifted. Cal whined pitifully on the floor below, but the message was distorted by the arch of his spine brought about by a new pattern of vibration. Unlike the steady, full vibration the plug had been going off, it switched to a rolling motion that started at the base and oscillated up and down its length. The only true movement was on Cal’s end but nevertheless it tricked his nerves into thinking he was being fucked.

Aldra paid him no heed, finishing the note. “Initial recommendation: gag, type… hm. Undecided. Duration: until a time behavior can be confirmed in compliance with caretaker safety standards.” After the final string of words were tapped in the smile returned to his face as naturally as he breathed. There was no lust to be found as he looked down at Cal's disheveled thrashing, just a slight pity.

“After a few weeks of good behavior we'll be able to get it off,” he promised although Cal barely picked up the words. “Granted… that's if it proves detrimental. Some in your position react positively to a fitted ball gag or bit. Do you think you would enjoy that?”

Differentiating his shivers of horror from those of arousal proved impossible. All his emotions were entangled in a beating heart of ecstasy. Mixed and clumped and stirred to the point nothing in him remained untainted.

He wanted to vigorously shake his head, but the grip of pleasure puppeted him to moan instead. Sweat beaded from his pores and his forehead collapsed to the padding, its beautiful cool a panacea for the fever overtaking his body. Behind him, his hips twitched and rocked against nothing, creating a vexing disconnect from the plug’s illusion.

He wanted it deeper, harder, but no amount of fucking air changed the slow pace.

“Make’it stoooop,” he coarsely groaned. “Can't! Too mush–much.”

Cal was miserable. His cock was so soft it hurt. Crushed in its tight little confine, unable to swell. Like running into a duracrete wall at full sprint.

All his lust channeled through it like a lighting rod, but found nowhere to ground, leaving it to run rampant through the rest of his body.

A hand stroked his lower back. “There we are. Relax into the motions. No need for modesty here. We’ll only get more familiar with each other as time goes on.”

There was nothing Cal wanted more than for the hand to trail lower and properly touch him. Too bad he would die before saying that aloud even in his half-mad state.

Disjointed thrashing eventually saw him flip onto his back and that was when Aldra decided to physically intervene.

“Let's get you straightened up.” 

Two hands on his shoulders pulled him to a sitting position. Once upright, his head lolled slightly. His legs did what they could to rock his hips against the floor, but on account of its padding, the movements never felt as sweet as they should. A more lucid Cal would have caught the vibrations diminish everytime his rut fucked it deeper, canceling what effectiveness it did have.

Aldra typed something on his datapad. “I’m going to set a reminder to test further erogenous zones, just one alone is showing excellent progress. Sensitivity enhancers wouldn’t hurt either. We'll also have to establish an optimal intersection between denial and orgasm…”

Looking sheepish, he stopped. “I'm getting ahead of myself, first–” he tapped something and the belt clicked.

Cal watched in horror as the tight cup of metal on the front folded back similar to a shutter. Suddenly things felt a lot less cramped down there, yet his cock wasn't exposed by this. The inner lining of white latex continued to stick to him. 

However, nothing was left to the imagination as a white tower rose between his legs, stretching already taut latex out, giving shape to humiliating details like the flare of his crown and the frontal puff of his urethra.

While not free, his needy dick finally got the room to grow it demanded.

Cal back arched further with every stolen inch. His straitjacket strained as he fought not to escape, but for the freedom required to close his hands around his cock and stroke.

“Incredible size you have there! We're going to have to measure that soon for customized equipment.”

Yes! Yes! Please touch him!

Aldra did not.

The man looked at him patiently like a researcher at a zoo. “Go on,” he shooed, "physical activity is well known for its contributions towards stress relief. Feel free to hump anything you'd like. The program currently running won’t allow you to ejaculate by itself, you have to meet it halfway.”

“Half-halfway?” Cal stumbled, too horny to process anything not explicitly spelled out.

“You're going to have to achieve orgasm through external stimulation,” he said, like those big words clarified anything at all to the puddle where his brain should be. Thankfully, what he said next brought an answer. “If padding isn't to your liking feel free to consider me. I am your caretaker. My hands, feet, mouth, um–” he sheepishly looked elsewhere, “other places are at your disposal. However you want to cum, I’ll do my best to facilitate.”

Cal’s eyes blew wide, a whole new door in his mind smashed open by his ravenous lust. Just mentioning the possibility of existing in this state tangled with another ignited his imagination. 

The image of Aldra in his mind ceased to wear clothes. It also stopped doing anything that didn't involve being railed by Cal's eager, weeping cock.

Drool slipped from the corner of his mouth and Cal barely had the sense of self to catch it on his shoulder. For the first time, Cal wanted his captor's presence. Anything to end this– this– 

“P-please. Kriff I– ugh! Need, ah ahhh!”

“Okay-okay. Stay still and let me help. I'm trained for this.”

Aldra got very close, very quickly, working his palms in between Cal’s twisting, sweat slicked thighs and gently prying his legs open. 

They moved like jammed doors, resistant at first but caving under proper force and spreading wide.

“Hands are fine?”

“Aaaah, fine yes mhm yes!” Don't stare at him politely, touch him!

“Suppose so.”

He gently gathered Cal's erection in one hand while the other stroked his thigh. In his eyes Cal must have been a wild beast in need of calming.

Indeed, Cal reacted wildly to the touch, shuddering so hard he whipped himself into the wall behind him, burying his face into it as if he couldn't bear to look. Panting, groaning, fraught. 

Senses so overwhelmed he wanted to turn off everything that wasn't touch. Even his own grunts reverberated harshly in his high strung ears.

Aldra stroked so slowly Cal would have demanded he go faster were he coherent enough to do anything but react. True to form, however, it was the work of an expert. How else could Aldra manage to drive him to new heights of desperation without tipping him over?

“This alright?”

Cal bit into the padding to suppress his keen. Crazed energy sent his feet out sluggishly kicking, sliding, and bending. Let it end, he couldn't handle this! 

“Would it help if I did more?”

Cal only heard one word turning back, “More! Gimme… aaah!”

“Like what?”

Cal pressed his back to the wall but jutted his hips forward like he was trying to escape and approach all at the same time. Not even Inquisotrs could inflict torture this agonizing, where all he wanted to do was beg and grovel and plead without a single scratch. “Hmm- ah, gah!”

“Alright, let's keep it simple. Chest?” Fingers ghosted over the outlines of his nipples, and Cal wasn't able to respond, electrified and frozen by the touch. Mistaking his immobility for lack of reaction, they moved up. “Or mouth?” A hand settled over his chin, its thumb tracing his lips.

A guttural moan broke from his throat.

In response the thumb moved away, the grip on his chin firmed, and the hand guided. 

His lips were captured in another. Their tongues interlaced in a feverish union pushing him over the edge of rationality. The hand moved on his cock at a maddening pace. Below it, the plug blissfully buzzed away, keeping him stupid. 

A knuckle firmly knocked the bottom, driving it straight into his greedy core.

And that was it.

More white was added to the room.

Whenever Cal imagined himself free of this awful facility it hadn't felt as good as this.

Toppling the Empire, restoring the Jedi, mastering the light side, all paled in comparison to the stellar explosion Aldra coaxed out of him.

A bright, pulsing moment that served as a shortcut to the true endpoint of all the above goals:

Peace.

He slid down the wall, falling sideways onto the floor padding, spent of all energy and will. The fight that characterised his existence since the horror of Order 66 had no hold on his psyche.

As he came down from the high, so did the toy inside him, pettering to a dull, unobtrusive buzz, almost pleasant if the fact it was unwanted went ignored. Less pleasant was the viscous liquid flowing down his shaft and balls following the suction of the belt, but it could easily be ignored too. It was gone quick enough.

Sluggishly blinking, he gradually calmed his heavy breathing. Just as slowly, his sweat and tears and drool started to dry. Any skin not layered by the straitjacket felt sticky and dirty however.

Instead of jerking away, he sighed contentedly when cool fingers ran through his sweaty hair.

Enough of the haze passed for him to send a sharp glare, juxtaposing Aldra's beaming grin.

“This is the calmest I’ve ever seen you. We are on the right track.”

“Wan’... out…” Cal couldn't speak higher than a whisper, nor do more than ineffectual tug at the jacket's hold. He was totally exhausted.

The fingers in his hair didn't falter, detangling accumulated clumps with gentle discretion. “Going forward it would definitely help to be more open. Tell me something you like, Cal.” Aldra kept his expression supportive. “What does a Jedi search for on the holonet when they need to meet their needs? This is a judgement free zone.”

Cal's mouth fell open stupidly.

“Really! Can't give names but there's all kinds here we do our best to accommodate. Male or female, soft or rough, giving or taking. Everything can be arranged if you say the word. How about it?”

Did he just ask what his kinks were? Cal slowly blinked. The aftershocks of his orgasm brought about after such an intense ramp up left him hazy, and these ridiculous questions certainly weren't helping him regain clarity.

“Let's switch tracks. I imagine there was a person in that dream of yours, can you tell me?”

Cal blamed the plug coincidentally picking up its vibrations for his response. “Bode.”

“Ah! Who is he? What's he like?”

Almost as soon as it passed from his lips Cal realized his mistake and shut his mouth into a thin line.

Aldra was disappointed but not surprised by this. “Teasing me now, are we? Just so we're on the same page, you can keep silent on your interests, but we'll figure them out eventually.” It wasn't spoken as a threat, just a certainty. He lowered his hand to pat Cal's thigh before standing with a stretch.

Cal tried not to watch jealously.

Done popping several joints, he pulled out his datapad, tapped the screen, and slipped it back into his bag.

Another minor tingle struck the base of Cal's perineum, similar to the one that loosened his bladder but ultimately different. He whined in confusion regardless as the shock went straight into his cock causing it to slump. It soon softened completely from its half erect state, and once it retracted far enough, the open shutter of the belt closed.

Notably the vibrations in his ass did not stop ramping up.

Aldra moved to the door and a voice in Cal's lax mind urgently shouted he wasn't removing the belt. Cal knew that was a problem but couldn't properly articulate why. “I'll be back during lunch to administer your next release. Eventually the schedule will get fine tuned, but for now a prescription of three orgasms a day should suffice. Our main task for the near future will be narrowing down stimuli you react best to. Prostate contact is always a favorite of near humans but who knows how other parts of you react under the right circumstances. We may find something that surprises you!”

An orgasm at lunch? But the belt was already getting tight now! How only a single part of him could get claustrophobic Cal didn't know. His cock was sending spikes of warning that galvanized his adrenaline, shaking him from the stupor that had fallen over him.

“Anyway, testing is a long process, but it's pretty exciting, right?” Aldra thought for a moment, then said, “Of course, fun as testing is, it's all to service your treatment. Anything you wish to share can get implemented into your plan right away. Think on it, for me.”’

There were many things Cal wanted to say to that, but his burning anger fizzled out under rolling waves of inner vibrations. His mouth–open to spew out thoughts–indeed gave voice to what he was thinking.

An uncontrolled, unstructured, despairing moan.

He didn't want to be angry. He wanted to cum. His ordeal wasn't over, this was merely a moment of clarity.

“Doesn't the future look brighter already?”

The door closed to him struggling harder than ever before.

Compared to how he started the day, nothing much really changed for Cal Kestis, Jedi Knight.

He was still going crazy because the only thing on his mind was white.