FIC: Sold!, Harry/Draco, NC17
Oct. 20th, 2006 05:10 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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bottom_dracoTitle: Sold!
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
the_minx_17
Pairing: HP/DM
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 2,826
Summary: After the fall of Voldemort the remaining Death Eaters are sold into slavery. Harry only wants one of them.
Disclaimer: Not mine…I just play with them and make them happier for it.
Warnings: M/s, bondage, discipline
Notes: For the lovelyroedhunt. Happy Birthday, Sweets! It took longer because the damn thing tried to grow to out of control. But I put it back in its place. *eyes whip enthusiastically* Beta is no other than jadzia7667.
Sold!
“Sold!” Scrimgeour let the gavel clatter to the podium as the Aurors led Draco Malfoy, convicted Death Eater, to the only Parselmouth alive. As he’d done with those before Malfoy, Harry Potter laid a hand over the Dark Lord’s brand and, closing his eyes, started hissing a long incantation. Today alone he’d changed fifteen marks, not including Malfoy’s, to show the identity of their new owners. As the chant came to an end, Harry pulled his hand away, revealing the Potter crest.
The black crest held the symbols of constancy and hope; the crown of lower level royalty softened the otherwise stark marking. Humming with approval, Harry smirked and said, “Welcome to the family… slave.”
Draco flushed and tried to fight the influence of the spell. Harry arched one brow and waited. This fire, the fight he knew Malfoy would put up was one of the reasons he was determined to have this particular man as his. Finally Draco dropped his head in defeat and whispered, “Thank you, Master.”
Harry ran one finger along Malfoy’s sharp jaw; the other rubbed the new brand on the pale flesh of the slave’s inner arm. “You’ll do better to learn your place quickly; the more you fight, the more you’ll be punished. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” Draco whispered, following the dictate of being a slave while his brain processed this new situation. “Sir? If I may, just what is my place now?”
Harry threw back his head and laughed. It was the same deep rolling laugh from his youth, the one that used to set every nerve Draco had on edge. Now it just made his cock hard. Draco assured himself the reaction was solely because of the mark on his arm. Eyeing the slave’s tented trousers, the material so thin as to hide nothing, Harry replied, “My bed, slave. Your place is in my bed.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Draco looked around the room. The bed was the main focus; the hooks on the posts were hidden, almost lost in the filmy curtains surrounding the large mattress as was the chains dangling from them. Again his cock filled, aching with desire, as Draco’s thoughts turned to his new owner. “Kinky little blighter, aren’t you, Potter?”
“I don’t remember giving you leave to call me anything besides Master,” Harry growled from the door, moving quickly to Draco’s side. “And you’ll soon find, slave, that there is nothing little about me.” Leaning in, he whispered, “Now strip.”
Draco shivered and blushed in embarrassment; he’d never been comfortable with casual nudity. He dropped his trousers and the tunic on the floor. Before he could fold them, Harry flicked his wrist and banished them. “Pay attention, now,” he said, forcing Draco to his knees. “I will only go over these rules once, don’t forget them.”
Grey eyes focused on Harry, watching as Harry prowled the space in front of him. “While at home, you will only be attired in your jewelry.” With that, Harry drew a leather collar from his pocket. Holding the pale blond hair to the side, he slid the leather around the well shaped neck and clicked the buckle home. He ran his fingers over the leather’s edge, brushing against the smooth skin of Draco’s neck. “Lovely.”
He snapped his fingers; wide, solid bands of leather that matched the collar appeared on Draco’s wrists and ankles and the base of his stiffened cock. “This is how I wish to always find you. Should you need to leave the house, I will provide you with appropriate dress.”
Red heat flooded Draco’s face and neck; if he hadn’t believed his new status before it was quite obvious now. He had been purchased to be a sex toy, a simple plaything. “Wrong, slave,” Harry murmured next to Draco’s ear. “You’ll be so much more than a toy.” Harry laughed lightly at Draco’s startled expression. He figured the blond would get curious enough over time and ask why Harry could read his thoughts; until then, the little git could damn well stew. “My lover, my confidant, my secret keeper and, at times, my plaything. You, my slave, are simply mine.”
Running his hand down Draco’s chest, Harry said, “Back to the rules. I am, and will be, Master or Sir to you. Should you be required while guests are about, you will address them with the same respect. Are we clear on that?”
Draco nodded, afraid his voice would break if he tried to open his mouth. “Are you trying to earn more strokes tonight?”
The quietly hissed question snapped Draco’s mind into gear. “No, Sir. I understood the rules thus far, Sir.”
Harry grasped Draco’s chin tightly, his green eyes boring into Draco, all sense of amusement gone. “You will always be honest with me. It is not an option. If you lie, I promise you I will know.”
Draco had no doubt about that. “Yes, Master.”
“For each,” Harry continued, releasing the hold he had on the blond, “rule you break, you will disciplined. I have many implements at my disposal, all of them capable of inducing various forms of corporal punishment.” Harry let his eyes travel over Draco’s unblemished backside. “I’m sure my cane would make a lasting impression.”
Much to Draco’s horror, his cock twitched as the blood drained from his face. Harry arched one eyebrow, amused, and asked, “Does the thought of my cane arouse you, slave?”
Draco weighed the options and decided this was not something to lie about. “A bit, Master.”
A wicked gleam filled Harry’s eyes. “Perhaps we’ll explore that at some point.”
“Yes.” The word sounded more like a breathy sigh.
Suddenly Harry felt this wouldn’t be as bad as he thought. “On the bed, slave. I still owe you for that ‘kinky little blighter’ comment.”
Draco watched as Harry hooked his wrists to the chains hanging from the bed. He was bent at the waist, lying over some type of bench, with his legs just as tightly bound as his arms; his bare arse was stuck high in the air and he had no way of escaping. Draco felt a tremor race through him, not knowing if it was from fear of the promised punishment or the fact that each time his Master locked a cuff in place his cock throbbed, filling just a little bit more.
Harry tugged on each of the chains one last time, ensuring the tightness and hold. “Since this is your first day and I recognize that an adjustment period will be necessary, slave,” Harry explained in a crisp, straightforward voice, “this punishment will be cut in half and there will no need for you to keep count. Instead, you should put all your attention on the pain that will be radiating from your arse.”
Harry walked over to a large oak cabinet, the sounds of him delving through it was loud in Draco’s ears. His voice muffled by the closet, Harry said, “Learn from this one, slave.”
Dropping a wooden paddle and a black crop on the bed, just in Draco’s line of sight, Harry said, “Using my name out of turn, five strokes with the paddle. Not answering a direct question, three more.” Harry ran his hand over Draco’s quivering arse. “And perhaps an additional three with the cane, because I want my mark here.”
Draco whimpered. The thought scared him and excited him at the same time. Briefly, he wondered how the hell he could be so turned on at the idea of getting his arse smacked and bruised. “You trust me not hurt you,” Harry said in response to the unasked question. “You know it will hurt but you also know, deep down, that I won’t take it to a dangerous level.”
Harry rubbed the cool wood over Draco’s arse in soothing, rhythmic circles; his free hand rested on Draco’s back, waiting for the tense muscles to ease. As Draco started to relax, Harry drew back and landed the first strike with a resounding crack.
Draco sucked in a deep breath, eyes smarting with tears as the pain set in. Gaining his breath, Draco thought Harry might have decided to cut the number of strokes in half but he sure as hell wasn’t holding back on the strength of the blows.
“No, I’m not, slave.” With that, the remainder of his punishment rained down his rump and thighs. Eight, only eight, but eight of the harshest licks Draco had ever felt.
Malfoy pride, and the knowledge that Harry had indeed done him a favor by cutting his punishment in half, kept him from screaming out. But nothing kept the single tear from spilling over and coursing down his face. “Thank you, Master,” he whispered, not even realizing he’d submitted without thought.
Harry’s eyes widened in shock, “For what, slave?”
Draco sagged over the bench, his forehead pressing into the mattress. “For being lenient.” Raising his head back up, Draco admitted, “I don’t know that I could have taken more.”
Harry smirked at that. Draco Malfoy admitted a weakness. Dropping his voice to a deep purr, he said, “Not only can you take more, but you will.” Running his hand over the heated flesh, Harry added, “I think I like this shade on you.”
Grey eyes squeezed shut as the hand dragged lower, tracing over his balls to cup his still interested prick. “It appears that you enjoyed that more than you’re trying to let on.”
“Yes, Sir,” Draco stuttered. “I never… that was a first for me.”
Harry chuckled softly. “What else will be a first for you?” Slowly he climbed on the bed, mindful of his tethered slave, and settled just behind the upturned arse. Sucking one finger into his mouth, he used his free hand to separate Draco’s cheeks, exposing the clenching hole to the cool air. Slipping the finger from his mouth, Harry circled the tight entrance and asked, “Will this be a first for you, slave?”
“Will I be the first, the only, to be buried,” Harry asked, fishing through his pocket for the small tube of lube, “here?”
“Yes.” The hiss of pleasure surprised Harry; it spurred him to slid that one digit in deeper, twisting as he went.
Harry popped the lid on the Muggle lubricant and squeezed a dollop out. Spreading the clear gel on his fingers, the other keeping the steady pace of in, twist, out, he murmured, “Do you want me buried here? Pushing into you, breaking you into two with my cock?”
Harry wanted that consent, as dubious as it might be. He wanted his slave to want him, not just tolerate him. Draco opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut again; all verbal skills fled as Harry exchanged hands and now two oil slickened fingers moved easily into his passage. A loud, barehanded smack to his arse had the words rushing out. In his haste to answer, Draco Malfoy was blunt in his honesty, his arousal evident in the strained words he shouted. “Merlin, yes.”
Harry popped the buttons of his denims open, letting his cock spring free. Adding a third finger to Draco’s loosening hole, Harry coated his cock and whispered, “It appears that adding my personal marks to your arse will have to wait.”
Draco tensed the moment he realized Harry Potter planned on fucking him soon. Right that minute, to be exact. Heavy denim pressed in tight on his heated arse, scratching the already sensitive skin; the cold of the metal buttons working like a balm as they brushed intermittently along the one crease where thigh met buttocks. “Oh Merlin,” Draco whispered.
Harry chuckled darkly. “I doubt calling on Merlin will do a thing to help you right now,” Harry said, pressing the head of his cock against Draco’s entrance as he rubbed his hand on Draco’s lower back. “Relax, slave. Give in to it. You can’t change anything, so give it all over to me.”
With those words, Harry pushed steadily through the tight ring, sinking slowly until he was balls deep. Dropping his head, Harry gulped a harsh breath of air. “I told Scrimgeour to bring you out last.” He pulled back at the same unhurried pace; shifted, and sunk back in. “Told him you’d leave there with me.”
“Ahhh,” Draco cried out as Harry brushed his prostate, the unexpected thrill curling his toes.
“That’s right, slave,” Harry said, following the exact same path, wrenching another loud moan from the blond. “You’ll scream for me tonight.”
Harry fell silent. He kept his leisurely pace, rocking back and forth; his fingers gripped Draco’s hips, digging until bruises were sure to appear. Suddenly, his pace picked up, hips snapping hard against Draco’s smarting arse. “Master,” Draco whimpered.
“I wanted to take you earlier,” Harry panted. “Right up there on stage, for everyone to see.” Reaching around, Harry dragged a thumb across the tip of Draco’s swollen dick. “Saw you react, there at the end,” Harry shifted again, his tempo upping to just shy of frantic, his words gasped out around each thrust, “standing so proud in front of everyone, your prick so hard, pushing straight at me.”
Harry whispered a spell. The bench vanished, the chains released, and Draco went flat. Harry followed him down, draping his body over and around Draco’s, his hands pushed into the mattress, framing either side of Draco’s head. Sweat beaded and rolled down his forehead, dripping off the end of his nose with every surge of forward momentum, landing on Draco’s back, mixing with the high sheen already covering the blond. “Please, please,” Draco started begging, “please, ohgods, please. I need…”
“What,” Harry’s voice had dropped another octave, the buttons of his denims marking the already redden fleshed as he ground into Draco’s tight heat, “what do you need?”
Draco’s breath hitched, his body shuddering with his absolute need for release. “I need to come,” he sobbed, “got to, I’ve got to…”
Harry whispered a spell against Draco’s shoulder. As the cock ring started to loosen, he whispered, “Then come, slave.”
Draco screamed out as his dick emptied into the sheets beneath him, his channel rippling tight around Harry, pulling Harry’s cock in deeper, refusing to let him retreat away from the sensation. Biting down, keeping his own scream of pleasure at bay, Harry’s orgasm ripped through him, filling Draco’s arse with spunk, marking the slave from the inside out.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Draco sighed and wriggled around, trying to find a comfortable place in the bed. The day had been a long, exhausting roller coaster ride of emotions. As Draco had watched his friends be auctioned off, sold to the highest bidder like pieces of cattle, a deep well of dread and fear and abject horror had filled him. Not to mention the overwhelming hatred for the Light wizards that gathered on the Ministry’s steps to simply watch and relish in their humiliation.
Then to be bought by Potter, Master he mentally corrected; his first thought had simply been bone numbing terror. Could there be any worse a fate? Draco had to smirk at that now. His Master had shown him the answer to that; yes, there probably were many things worse than being owned by Harry Potter.
True, his arse literally burned. The tender flesh had been spanked, fucked, and cropped. None of which Draco had ever entertained doing before.
While he had held silent with the paddle, and begged during the sex, he had screamed as each of the three lines from the crop, perfectly parallel to each other and running across both cheeks of his abused bottom, had been doled out. The biting zip of the crop was a sound he wasn’t likely to forget; the initial burst of white-hot pain would be etched in his mind forever. Just as the feel of his Master licking over them, laving each of the raised welts with attention as he praised Draco, telling him how very well he’d done, was a memory that would last for all time.
And the sex, another thing his Master had introduced him to. Merciful Gods in heaven; Draco knew he could spend a lifetime being on the receiving end of that. “If I had known, I’d have done that long before now,” Draco murmured, his body shivering from the thought of being taken again.
The soft sheet covering him lifted, exposing his naked rump to the cool night air, as the mattress dipped, balancing out under the added weight of his Master. Surprise shot through Draco, he’d expected that he would sleep alone, that his status as a slave didn’t include the intimacy of a sharing a bed at night. Harry reached out, snagging Draco around the waist, and pulled until the blond was settled against his chest.
“Told you your place was in my bed,” Harry said sleepily.
Yes, Draco thought, a smile playing at his lips. There were definitely things worse than being sold to Harry Potter.
…end
Happy Birthday,roedhunt!!
Author:
the_minx_17Pairing: HP/DM
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 2,826
Summary: After the fall of Voldemort the remaining Death Eaters are sold into slavery. Harry only wants one of them.
Disclaimer: Not mine…I just play with them and make them happier for it.
Warnings: M/s, bondage, discipline
Notes: For the lovely
roedhunt. Happy Birthday, Sweets! It took longer because the damn thing tried to grow to out of control. But I put it back in its place. *eyes whip enthusiastically* Beta is no other than jadzia7667.“Sold!” Scrimgeour let the gavel clatter to the podium as the Aurors led Draco Malfoy, convicted Death Eater, to the only Parselmouth alive. As he’d done with those before Malfoy, Harry Potter laid a hand over the Dark Lord’s brand and, closing his eyes, started hissing a long incantation. Today alone he’d changed fifteen marks, not including Malfoy’s, to show the identity of their new owners. As the chant came to an end, Harry pulled his hand away, revealing the Potter crest.
The black crest held the symbols of constancy and hope; the crown of lower level royalty softened the otherwise stark marking. Humming with approval, Harry smirked and said, “Welcome to the family… slave.”
Draco flushed and tried to fight the influence of the spell. Harry arched one brow and waited. This fire, the fight he knew Malfoy would put up was one of the reasons he was determined to have this particular man as his. Finally Draco dropped his head in defeat and whispered, “Thank you, Master.”
Harry ran one finger along Malfoy’s sharp jaw; the other rubbed the new brand on the pale flesh of the slave’s inner arm. “You’ll do better to learn your place quickly; the more you fight, the more you’ll be punished. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” Draco whispered, following the dictate of being a slave while his brain processed this new situation. “Sir? If I may, just what is my place now?”
Harry threw back his head and laughed. It was the same deep rolling laugh from his youth, the one that used to set every nerve Draco had on edge. Now it just made his cock hard. Draco assured himself the reaction was solely because of the mark on his arm. Eyeing the slave’s tented trousers, the material so thin as to hide nothing, Harry replied, “My bed, slave. Your place is in my bed.”
Draco looked around the room. The bed was the main focus; the hooks on the posts were hidden, almost lost in the filmy curtains surrounding the large mattress as was the chains dangling from them. Again his cock filled, aching with desire, as Draco’s thoughts turned to his new owner. “Kinky little blighter, aren’t you, Potter?”
“I don’t remember giving you leave to call me anything besides Master,” Harry growled from the door, moving quickly to Draco’s side. “And you’ll soon find, slave, that there is nothing little about me.” Leaning in, he whispered, “Now strip.”
Draco shivered and blushed in embarrassment; he’d never been comfortable with casual nudity. He dropped his trousers and the tunic on the floor. Before he could fold them, Harry flicked his wrist and banished them. “Pay attention, now,” he said, forcing Draco to his knees. “I will only go over these rules once, don’t forget them.”
Grey eyes focused on Harry, watching as Harry prowled the space in front of him. “While at home, you will only be attired in your jewelry.” With that, Harry drew a leather collar from his pocket. Holding the pale blond hair to the side, he slid the leather around the well shaped neck and clicked the buckle home. He ran his fingers over the leather’s edge, brushing against the smooth skin of Draco’s neck. “Lovely.”
He snapped his fingers; wide, solid bands of leather that matched the collar appeared on Draco’s wrists and ankles and the base of his stiffened cock. “This is how I wish to always find you. Should you need to leave the house, I will provide you with appropriate dress.”
Red heat flooded Draco’s face and neck; if he hadn’t believed his new status before it was quite obvious now. He had been purchased to be a sex toy, a simple plaything. “Wrong, slave,” Harry murmured next to Draco’s ear. “You’ll be so much more than a toy.” Harry laughed lightly at Draco’s startled expression. He figured the blond would get curious enough over time and ask why Harry could read his thoughts; until then, the little git could damn well stew. “My lover, my confidant, my secret keeper and, at times, my plaything. You, my slave, are simply mine.”
Running his hand down Draco’s chest, Harry said, “Back to the rules. I am, and will be, Master or Sir to you. Should you be required while guests are about, you will address them with the same respect. Are we clear on that?”
Draco nodded, afraid his voice would break if he tried to open his mouth. “Are you trying to earn more strokes tonight?”
The quietly hissed question snapped Draco’s mind into gear. “No, Sir. I understood the rules thus far, Sir.”
Harry grasped Draco’s chin tightly, his green eyes boring into Draco, all sense of amusement gone. “You will always be honest with me. It is not an option. If you lie, I promise you I will know.”
Draco had no doubt about that. “Yes, Master.”
“For each,” Harry continued, releasing the hold he had on the blond, “rule you break, you will disciplined. I have many implements at my disposal, all of them capable of inducing various forms of corporal punishment.” Harry let his eyes travel over Draco’s unblemished backside. “I’m sure my cane would make a lasting impression.”
Much to Draco’s horror, his cock twitched as the blood drained from his face. Harry arched one eyebrow, amused, and asked, “Does the thought of my cane arouse you, slave?”
Draco weighed the options and decided this was not something to lie about. “A bit, Master.”
A wicked gleam filled Harry’s eyes. “Perhaps we’ll explore that at some point.”
“Yes.” The word sounded more like a breathy sigh.
Suddenly Harry felt this wouldn’t be as bad as he thought. “On the bed, slave. I still owe you for that ‘kinky little blighter’ comment.”
Draco watched as Harry hooked his wrists to the chains hanging from the bed. He was bent at the waist, lying over some type of bench, with his legs just as tightly bound as his arms; his bare arse was stuck high in the air and he had no way of escaping. Draco felt a tremor race through him, not knowing if it was from fear of the promised punishment or the fact that each time his Master locked a cuff in place his cock throbbed, filling just a little bit more.
Harry tugged on each of the chains one last time, ensuring the tightness and hold. “Since this is your first day and I recognize that an adjustment period will be necessary, slave,” Harry explained in a crisp, straightforward voice, “this punishment will be cut in half and there will no need for you to keep count. Instead, you should put all your attention on the pain that will be radiating from your arse.”
Harry walked over to a large oak cabinet, the sounds of him delving through it was loud in Draco’s ears. His voice muffled by the closet, Harry said, “Learn from this one, slave.”
Dropping a wooden paddle and a black crop on the bed, just in Draco’s line of sight, Harry said, “Using my name out of turn, five strokes with the paddle. Not answering a direct question, three more.” Harry ran his hand over Draco’s quivering arse. “And perhaps an additional three with the cane, because I want my mark here.”
Draco whimpered. The thought scared him and excited him at the same time. Briefly, he wondered how the hell he could be so turned on at the idea of getting his arse smacked and bruised. “You trust me not hurt you,” Harry said in response to the unasked question. “You know it will hurt but you also know, deep down, that I won’t take it to a dangerous level.”
Harry rubbed the cool wood over Draco’s arse in soothing, rhythmic circles; his free hand rested on Draco’s back, waiting for the tense muscles to ease. As Draco started to relax, Harry drew back and landed the first strike with a resounding crack.
Draco sucked in a deep breath, eyes smarting with tears as the pain set in. Gaining his breath, Draco thought Harry might have decided to cut the number of strokes in half but he sure as hell wasn’t holding back on the strength of the blows.
“No, I’m not, slave.” With that, the remainder of his punishment rained down his rump and thighs. Eight, only eight, but eight of the harshest licks Draco had ever felt.
Malfoy pride, and the knowledge that Harry had indeed done him a favor by cutting his punishment in half, kept him from screaming out. But nothing kept the single tear from spilling over and coursing down his face. “Thank you, Master,” he whispered, not even realizing he’d submitted without thought.
Harry’s eyes widened in shock, “For what, slave?”
Draco sagged over the bench, his forehead pressing into the mattress. “For being lenient.” Raising his head back up, Draco admitted, “I don’t know that I could have taken more.”
Harry smirked at that. Draco Malfoy admitted a weakness. Dropping his voice to a deep purr, he said, “Not only can you take more, but you will.” Running his hand over the heated flesh, Harry added, “I think I like this shade on you.”
Grey eyes squeezed shut as the hand dragged lower, tracing over his balls to cup his still interested prick. “It appears that you enjoyed that more than you’re trying to let on.”
“Yes, Sir,” Draco stuttered. “I never… that was a first for me.”
Harry chuckled softly. “What else will be a first for you?” Slowly he climbed on the bed, mindful of his tethered slave, and settled just behind the upturned arse. Sucking one finger into his mouth, he used his free hand to separate Draco’s cheeks, exposing the clenching hole to the cool air. Slipping the finger from his mouth, Harry circled the tight entrance and asked, “Will this be a first for you, slave?”
“Will I be the first, the only, to be buried,” Harry asked, fishing through his pocket for the small tube of lube, “here?”
“Yes.” The hiss of pleasure surprised Harry; it spurred him to slid that one digit in deeper, twisting as he went.
Harry popped the lid on the Muggle lubricant and squeezed a dollop out. Spreading the clear gel on his fingers, the other keeping the steady pace of in, twist, out, he murmured, “Do you want me buried here? Pushing into you, breaking you into two with my cock?”
Harry wanted that consent, as dubious as it might be. He wanted his slave to want him, not just tolerate him. Draco opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut again; all verbal skills fled as Harry exchanged hands and now two oil slickened fingers moved easily into his passage. A loud, barehanded smack to his arse had the words rushing out. In his haste to answer, Draco Malfoy was blunt in his honesty, his arousal evident in the strained words he shouted. “Merlin, yes.”
Harry popped the buttons of his denims open, letting his cock spring free. Adding a third finger to Draco’s loosening hole, Harry coated his cock and whispered, “It appears that adding my personal marks to your arse will have to wait.”
Draco tensed the moment he realized Harry Potter planned on fucking him soon. Right that minute, to be exact. Heavy denim pressed in tight on his heated arse, scratching the already sensitive skin; the cold of the metal buttons working like a balm as they brushed intermittently along the one crease where thigh met buttocks. “Oh Merlin,” Draco whispered.
Harry chuckled darkly. “I doubt calling on Merlin will do a thing to help you right now,” Harry said, pressing the head of his cock against Draco’s entrance as he rubbed his hand on Draco’s lower back. “Relax, slave. Give in to it. You can’t change anything, so give it all over to me.”
With those words, Harry pushed steadily through the tight ring, sinking slowly until he was balls deep. Dropping his head, Harry gulped a harsh breath of air. “I told Scrimgeour to bring you out last.” He pulled back at the same unhurried pace; shifted, and sunk back in. “Told him you’d leave there with me.”
“Ahhh,” Draco cried out as Harry brushed his prostate, the unexpected thrill curling his toes.
“That’s right, slave,” Harry said, following the exact same path, wrenching another loud moan from the blond. “You’ll scream for me tonight.”
Harry fell silent. He kept his leisurely pace, rocking back and forth; his fingers gripped Draco’s hips, digging until bruises were sure to appear. Suddenly, his pace picked up, hips snapping hard against Draco’s smarting arse. “Master,” Draco whimpered.
“I wanted to take you earlier,” Harry panted. “Right up there on stage, for everyone to see.” Reaching around, Harry dragged a thumb across the tip of Draco’s swollen dick. “Saw you react, there at the end,” Harry shifted again, his tempo upping to just shy of frantic, his words gasped out around each thrust, “standing so proud in front of everyone, your prick so hard, pushing straight at me.”
Harry whispered a spell. The bench vanished, the chains released, and Draco went flat. Harry followed him down, draping his body over and around Draco’s, his hands pushed into the mattress, framing either side of Draco’s head. Sweat beaded and rolled down his forehead, dripping off the end of his nose with every surge of forward momentum, landing on Draco’s back, mixing with the high sheen already covering the blond. “Please, please,” Draco started begging, “please, ohgods, please. I need…”
“What,” Harry’s voice had dropped another octave, the buttons of his denims marking the already redden fleshed as he ground into Draco’s tight heat, “what do you need?”
Draco’s breath hitched, his body shuddering with his absolute need for release. “I need to come,” he sobbed, “got to, I’ve got to…”
Harry whispered a spell against Draco’s shoulder. As the cock ring started to loosen, he whispered, “Then come, slave.”
Draco screamed out as his dick emptied into the sheets beneath him, his channel rippling tight around Harry, pulling Harry’s cock in deeper, refusing to let him retreat away from the sensation. Biting down, keeping his own scream of pleasure at bay, Harry’s orgasm ripped through him, filling Draco’s arse with spunk, marking the slave from the inside out.
Draco sighed and wriggled around, trying to find a comfortable place in the bed. The day had been a long, exhausting roller coaster ride of emotions. As Draco had watched his friends be auctioned off, sold to the highest bidder like pieces of cattle, a deep well of dread and fear and abject horror had filled him. Not to mention the overwhelming hatred for the Light wizards that gathered on the Ministry’s steps to simply watch and relish in their humiliation.
Then to be bought by Potter, Master he mentally corrected; his first thought had simply been bone numbing terror. Could there be any worse a fate? Draco had to smirk at that now. His Master had shown him the answer to that; yes, there probably were many things worse than being owned by Harry Potter.
True, his arse literally burned. The tender flesh had been spanked, fucked, and cropped. None of which Draco had ever entertained doing before.
While he had held silent with the paddle, and begged during the sex, he had screamed as each of the three lines from the crop, perfectly parallel to each other and running across both cheeks of his abused bottom, had been doled out. The biting zip of the crop was a sound he wasn’t likely to forget; the initial burst of white-hot pain would be etched in his mind forever. Just as the feel of his Master licking over them, laving each of the raised welts with attention as he praised Draco, telling him how very well he’d done, was a memory that would last for all time.
And the sex, another thing his Master had introduced him to. Merciful Gods in heaven; Draco knew he could spend a lifetime being on the receiving end of that. “If I had known, I’d have done that long before now,” Draco murmured, his body shivering from the thought of being taken again.
The soft sheet covering him lifted, exposing his naked rump to the cool night air, as the mattress dipped, balancing out under the added weight of his Master. Surprise shot through Draco, he’d expected that he would sleep alone, that his status as a slave didn’t include the intimacy of a sharing a bed at night. Harry reached out, snagging Draco around the waist, and pulled until the blond was settled against his chest.
“Told you your place was in my bed,” Harry said sleepily.
Yes, Draco thought, a smile playing at his lips. There were definitely things worse than being sold to Harry Potter.
…end
Happy Birthday,
roedhunt!!
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Date: 2006-10-20 09:39 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-10-21 03:40 am (UTC)my minds a puddle.
All i can say is that i'm sorry you managed to get it under control. I want more...
Perfect really.
Thank You
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