FIC: Taking the Mantle, LM/DM, SS/DM
May. 11th, 2005 08:02 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
paronomania.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
bottom_dracoTitle: Taking the Mantle
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
paronomania
Pairing(s): LM/DM, SS/DM
Rating: R
Warning(s): incest, chan/shota
Taking the Mantle
Papa and Mama were fighting. Again. Sickness twisted Draco’s stomach as he sat alone in the deep dark at the top of the stairs. Mama’s voice strident and shrill. Papa’s low and insistent. Only fragments to be heard from that distance. Mama saying, “Too young.” Papa responding with, “Malfoy heir.”
Draco was to be ‘presented’. That was confusing. A select group of Papa’s friends and business partners – another concept Draco didn’t quite understand, as he was fairly sure Malfoy’s weren’t in business – would come to the manor and be formally introduced to the Malfoy heir. It seemed silly. Draco had already met most of his parents’ acquaintances.
The sun only barely made its presence known when Papa woke him; a new set of robes in varying shades of gray raw silk held out as an offering. Draco would have preferred something a little bolder, dark green at the very least, but Papa insisted gray was his colour, highlighting his eyes and making his fine hair more polished silver than white-gold. In these robes Draco would be his father’s twin; Lucius in miniature.
The guests did not arrive until nearly tea time, and Draco was forced to sit quietly all day so as not to muss his new robes. An agony of boredom and impatience and trepidation, until finally, finally, his father summoned him and led him to his private study.
Taking in the dozen or so men men gathered in the book-lined room, Draco was serious-eyed and nervous. It didn’t seem safe to allow his gaze to linger anywhere. He looked from man to man to wall to window to floor, scuffing one foot back and forth on the thick carpet.
“Gentlemen,” Lucius drawled to the small crowd, “I’d like to present my son Draco.”
Draco made a short, formal bow but apparently that wasn’t enough for Papa.
Lucius gently pushed his heir towards the closest man, who stroked his hair and fondled his bum and loosened the collar of Draco’s robes. Passed from man to man, stroked by each, losing another inch of safe covering cloth until he stood before his father again, naked and pink as he had entered the world, adorned by the lurid imprints of caressing, pinching Death Eater fingers.
Lifted onto a table and made to slowly turn a complete circle, Draco flushed and then paled as the men whispered things to each other, as Papa stood behind him, wrapping his arms around Draco’s thin shoulders. dropping his hands to the tiny pink nipples crowning a
hairless chest. The little blond hissed in a sharp breath as his father pinched a teat painfully between two buffed fingernails.
Next, Papa produced a tiny, unornamented, black-laquer box, and pried the lid off, revealing a thick, blood-red paste. Dipping his littlest finger into the box, scooping up a thick glob, rubbing it on Draco’s tiny nipples; first one, then the other. Whether it was
some property of the unguent, or the manipulation of his father’s fingers that caused the boy’s nubs to swell more than twice their usual size, none could tell. It was clearly the paste that turned the nipples rouge red.
Papa dropped his hand down, stroking over Draco’s belly, littlest finger catching on the rim of his navel -- careful to leave no stain of red on the luminous white skin -- until one hand rested lightly over tiny cock and balls.
Draco shuddered, as did his entire audience. Papa laughed, and gently peeling back Draco’s foreskin, he anointed the little cockhead as he had the nipples, staining it matching crimson. Draco hissed and his cock began to stiffen. Breathing hard now, his chest rising and
falling, his two red nipples like beacons against his paleness. Papa lowered his head and brought his mouth to Draco’s, sucking gently, thrusting his thick tongue between pouting red lips.
Lucius’s smile was sardonic. “I’ve asked you here to celebrate Draco’s birthday, which is later this month. I formally acknowledge that he is my heir and I will get no other. He is young, but it is time for him to accept what it is to be a Malfoy.”
Papa paused and let his gaze travel over his associates. “Alas, he is still too young for everything that has crossed your filthy minds in the last few moments, but he is old enough to begin.” Papa curved his hand away from Draco’s genitals, exposing them to view.
“Look at him, gentlemen. His cock still no bigger than my thumb to the first joint. His balls still tight and high and pleasantly large in comparison to his cock. A boy trembling on the threshhold.”
There was a collective hiss from the group of men.
“I see you approve. Well, I will remind you once again he is my heir, not some gutter-rat from Knockturn Alley. You will treat him as my heir, or you will suffer my wrath. Now, we draw. Short hair wins first go.”
Lucius pulled a short knife from his boot and grabbed a hank of Draco’s white-blond hair. Draco squirmed and Papa laughed, letting the clump of hair slip from his fingers until he was holding no more than twenty individual hairs. Draco blinked in terror as, with a quick
flick of the knife, Papa snipped the little lock. Turning his back, counting out the necessary number and then cutting one in half, brushing away the remainder.
“Draco, take these. Hold them in your hand. No, like this.” Lucius arranged the hairs and then folded Draco’s hand into a tight fist. “One hair to each gentleman, Draco.”
Draco squirmed again, not too young to understand Papa did this to humiliate him. And it was humiliating to parade naked, nipples and cock stained crimson, around to each man,allowing each to draw a hair; forced to participate in his own abasement.
A deep, quiet laugh raised gooseflesh on Draco’s arms. Turning to the sound he saw Severus Snape holding up the short hair.
“I think a private room, Lucius,” Snape said imperiously. “His first time should not be public, subject to the gaze of this kind of rabble.”
Dark mutters and barks of laughter greeted this statement.
“Listen to him,” someone called out laughing, “he just doesn’t want us to know how Hogwarts Professors treat our children.”
“I would no more touch your son, Crabbe, than go to Azkaban and allow myself to be sodomized by Sirius Black.”
This also met with laughter and shouts of agreement.
“Well,” said Mr Crabbe mournfully, “I should leap to defend my son’s honour, but he is a homely little toad.”
Draco couldn’t even begin to follow the conversation. He stood as close as he could to his Papa without actually touching him, and shivered. Lucius put his hand out and stroked the fair head.
“Severus, you are right; his first time should not be public. You may take him to your old room.”
Snape bowed, bringing his heels together without making any noise. He stretched a long-fingered hand to Draco, who looked at it - taking in the stained tips - but made no move to grasp it.
Lucius bent and whispered, “Do not shame me, Dragon. Go with Severus.”
Head bowed, looking up through lowered lashes, Draco took Snape’s hand, allowing himself be led trembling from the room.
Author:
paronomaniaPairing(s): LM/DM, SS/DM
Rating: R
Warning(s): incest, chan/shota
Papa and Mama were fighting. Again. Sickness twisted Draco’s stomach as he sat alone in the deep dark at the top of the stairs. Mama’s voice strident and shrill. Papa’s low and insistent. Only fragments to be heard from that distance. Mama saying, “Too young.” Papa responding with, “Malfoy heir.”
Draco was to be ‘presented’. That was confusing. A select group of Papa’s friends and business partners – another concept Draco didn’t quite understand, as he was fairly sure Malfoy’s weren’t in business – would come to the manor and be formally introduced to the Malfoy heir. It seemed silly. Draco had already met most of his parents’ acquaintances.
The sun only barely made its presence known when Papa woke him; a new set of robes in varying shades of gray raw silk held out as an offering. Draco would have preferred something a little bolder, dark green at the very least, but Papa insisted gray was his colour, highlighting his eyes and making his fine hair more polished silver than white-gold. In these robes Draco would be his father’s twin; Lucius in miniature.
The guests did not arrive until nearly tea time, and Draco was forced to sit quietly all day so as not to muss his new robes. An agony of boredom and impatience and trepidation, until finally, finally, his father summoned him and led him to his private study.
Taking in the dozen or so men men gathered in the book-lined room, Draco was serious-eyed and nervous. It didn’t seem safe to allow his gaze to linger anywhere. He looked from man to man to wall to window to floor, scuffing one foot back and forth on the thick carpet.
“Gentlemen,” Lucius drawled to the small crowd, “I’d like to present my son Draco.”
Draco made a short, formal bow but apparently that wasn’t enough for Papa.
Lucius gently pushed his heir towards the closest man, who stroked his hair and fondled his bum and loosened the collar of Draco’s robes. Passed from man to man, stroked by each, losing another inch of safe covering cloth until he stood before his father again, naked and pink as he had entered the world, adorned by the lurid imprints of caressing, pinching Death Eater fingers.
Lifted onto a table and made to slowly turn a complete circle, Draco flushed and then paled as the men whispered things to each other, as Papa stood behind him, wrapping his arms around Draco’s thin shoulders. dropping his hands to the tiny pink nipples crowning a
hairless chest. The little blond hissed in a sharp breath as his father pinched a teat painfully between two buffed fingernails.
Next, Papa produced a tiny, unornamented, black-laquer box, and pried the lid off, revealing a thick, blood-red paste. Dipping his littlest finger into the box, scooping up a thick glob, rubbing it on Draco’s tiny nipples; first one, then the other. Whether it was
some property of the unguent, or the manipulation of his father’s fingers that caused the boy’s nubs to swell more than twice their usual size, none could tell. It was clearly the paste that turned the nipples rouge red.
Papa dropped his hand down, stroking over Draco’s belly, littlest finger catching on the rim of his navel -- careful to leave no stain of red on the luminous white skin -- until one hand rested lightly over tiny cock and balls.
Draco shuddered, as did his entire audience. Papa laughed, and gently peeling back Draco’s foreskin, he anointed the little cockhead as he had the nipples, staining it matching crimson. Draco hissed and his cock began to stiffen. Breathing hard now, his chest rising and
falling, his two red nipples like beacons against his paleness. Papa lowered his head and brought his mouth to Draco’s, sucking gently, thrusting his thick tongue between pouting red lips.
Lucius’s smile was sardonic. “I’ve asked you here to celebrate Draco’s birthday, which is later this month. I formally acknowledge that he is my heir and I will get no other. He is young, but it is time for him to accept what it is to be a Malfoy.”
Papa paused and let his gaze travel over his associates. “Alas, he is still too young for everything that has crossed your filthy minds in the last few moments, but he is old enough to begin.” Papa curved his hand away from Draco’s genitals, exposing them to view.
“Look at him, gentlemen. His cock still no bigger than my thumb to the first joint. His balls still tight and high and pleasantly large in comparison to his cock. A boy trembling on the threshhold.”
There was a collective hiss from the group of men.
“I see you approve. Well, I will remind you once again he is my heir, not some gutter-rat from Knockturn Alley. You will treat him as my heir, or you will suffer my wrath. Now, we draw. Short hair wins first go.”
Lucius pulled a short knife from his boot and grabbed a hank of Draco’s white-blond hair. Draco squirmed and Papa laughed, letting the clump of hair slip from his fingers until he was holding no more than twenty individual hairs. Draco blinked in terror as, with a quick
flick of the knife, Papa snipped the little lock. Turning his back, counting out the necessary number and then cutting one in half, brushing away the remainder.
“Draco, take these. Hold them in your hand. No, like this.” Lucius arranged the hairs and then folded Draco’s hand into a tight fist. “One hair to each gentleman, Draco.”
Draco squirmed again, not too young to understand Papa did this to humiliate him. And it was humiliating to parade naked, nipples and cock stained crimson, around to each man,allowing each to draw a hair; forced to participate in his own abasement.
A deep, quiet laugh raised gooseflesh on Draco’s arms. Turning to the sound he saw Severus Snape holding up the short hair.
“I think a private room, Lucius,” Snape said imperiously. “His first time should not be public, subject to the gaze of this kind of rabble.”
Dark mutters and barks of laughter greeted this statement.
“Listen to him,” someone called out laughing, “he just doesn’t want us to know how Hogwarts Professors treat our children.”
“I would no more touch your son, Crabbe, than go to Azkaban and allow myself to be sodomized by Sirius Black.”
This also met with laughter and shouts of agreement.
“Well,” said Mr Crabbe mournfully, “I should leap to defend my son’s honour, but he is a homely little toad.”
Draco couldn’t even begin to follow the conversation. He stood as close as he could to his Papa without actually touching him, and shivered. Lucius put his hand out and stroked the fair head.
“Severus, you are right; his first time should not be public. You may take him to your old room.”
Snape bowed, bringing his heels together without making any noise. He stretched a long-fingered hand to Draco, who looked at it - taking in the stained tips - but made no move to grasp it.
Lucius bent and whispered, “Do not shame me, Dragon. Go with Severus.”
Head bowed, looking up through lowered lashes, Draco took Snape’s hand, allowing himself be led trembling from the room.
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no subject
Date: 2005-05-13 12:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-14 04:08 am (UTC)In my head, Draco's around 10 or 11 in this, but I was trying to write him to appear even younger; kind of the written version of drawing the uke younger than he actually is.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-14 04:13 am (UTC)