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bottom_dracoI just wanted to write something kind of Dark and overly sexual for a friend.
This came out. Not my usual style. I don't even normally read this stuff.
So, yeah. Here it is. It is unbeta'd, it is not fine-tuned. This is bareback, baby, and when I get the rubbers, you'll know I truly love it.
Fuckers. I don't know where that came from either.
“Draco, you belong to me now. You are mine. Mine to do as I say. And I say, strip naked, and make Neville’s bed. In fact, the house elves work too hard. You’ll be responsible for making all of our beds in the morning. Then you can wash down the floors, dust, clear out the fireplace grates, tidy up things, and in the evenings give all of our shoes a bit of a shine. If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you come in your pants for us.”
“Yes, master.”
“Good, you didn’t forget. Now, I believe I told you to strip.”
“Yes, master.”
Draco complied, trying to ignore the chocked up feeling of his heart pounding against his Adam’s apple. All of the boys were staring wide-eyed at him as he followed Harry’s orders, striping completely naked, before turning to Neville’s bed, and trying to fix it up as best as possible with his limited experience. Then he moved to Dean’s, then Seamus’, then Ron’s, and then Harry’s bed. Once finished, He returned to Harry, to request permission to call a bucket and water, when Harry showed his forethought. A house elf snapped the necessary supplies into the dorm room, and the other’s left for breakfast. Harry fingered Draco’s wand as he left, knowing that Draco had no use for wands, or classes, or for the most part, clothes, ever again.
When the boys returned from their classes in the late afternoon, they found Draco sitting quietly on the floor, chores finished, body shaky from exertion and hunger. His blood pressure had dropped, and even if he was allowed to, he would not have been capable of donning his clothing and returning to Slytherin. Harry contemplated making the boy stand up then, ordered to pleasure with himself so they could punish him when he could not achieve an erection. He thought it would be more fun another way.
"Ron, Draco has completed his work, and well I might add. I do believe that deserves a reward. If you could get a meal from the kitchen, please?"
While Ron left, Harry and the other three boys made a cursory examination of their newly cleaned room. The grate's work was rather patchy at best, but experience would fix that better than punishment. The beds weren't precisely straight, but they had been smoothed sometime after their initial make up, and the floor was spotless. Harry nearly wished for a pair of white gloves to search for dust, and had nearly decided to conjure a pair up when Ron returned.
"We'll have roast chicken tonight, Harry. And because you said it was to be a reward, I thought Draco might have that same honour."
"Very nice. If you could set it there. Now, Draco, you have done splendidly so far, don't disappoint now. We want a bit of a before dinner show. When I hold up the bit of chicken, you are going to do whatever it is we say, and then you may have the bit. Here, you'll learn by going about. This is a nice thick piece. Rather juicy, and I know you must be hungry. I want you to crawl from over there, to here. Simple really. Just crawl about on the floor a bit."
"Yes, master." And he did, moving from his sitting position into one on all fours, Draco painfully moved from his corner to Harry, sitting on the edge of the bed that Draco had remade 8 times that day, trying to get it correct. He hadn't dared hope that his reward would be as straightforward as Harry had presented it, but he was not entirely sure he would be able to handle this new little game along with everything else he had be subjected to that day, coupled with his hunger. It had been two days since he'd last eaten, and he'd have gladly removed his own limbs for that small bit of meat pinched between Harry's fingers.
He stopped, right before Harry, knowing that while he had performed his task, he could not take his own reward. If Harry chose, he could make Draco do dozens of tasks, telling him each time he would finally get the piece. At Draco's stop, Harry smiled brilliantly, before leaning his hand down to Draco's mouth. "Eat."
"Yes, master."
Draco chewed slowly, afraid of chocking with his throat so tight.
"Now, I want you to crawl over to Neville, and lick his shoes a bit. The tops of both, the sides, and I think we'll save the bottoms for a punishment. When he deems them clean, you may crawl back here, and have this next bite." The piece was slightly larger, and for one dizzying moment, Draco wondered why Harry would bother to do that. To make sure he actually ate, to differentiate between duty and punishment, to organize this system of rewards. His mind was too hazy though, and it was hard to focus on anything other than finding Longbottom's shoes without looking up from his bent path. To making sure he did a thorough job even as his tongue became tired, his mouth dragging along trying to ease the process, breathing through his nose, and waiting for Neville to decide that the third cleaning was enough, or maybe he was on the fourth.
“Not a bad job, Draco. When you clean them tomorrow, though, I’ll expect you to do it in a timely manner. None of this dilly-dallying around having fun whilst the rest of us work.”
“No, master. I’m sorry.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry, master.”
“That is much better. You may return to Harry now.”
The crawling was quickly becoming painful, the stone scraping against his palms, the uneven flooring jamming into the hollows of his knees. He could ignore it, nearly for eternity, if they would continue letting him eat.
“Here you go, Draco. Eat up.”
He still ate slowly, and was permit to lick at Harry’s fingers, trying to get those last little drops of gravy.
“You are doing so well. So well. I think that your next task should be a happier one. Ron?”
“Do you mean, Harry, a spanking?”
Draco’s face, upturned from accepting his food from Harry’s hand, looked startled.
“You look confused, Draco. Almost as though you don’t quite trust your masters’ judgment in these matters. If you are to be punished, you will know you are being punished. A spanking is much fun, for all of us. Crawl on over to Ron, now, and find out.”
Draco did as he was told, the nausea slowly fading with each bit of food he earned. Ron didn’t have to say anything, from his spot on the crumpled bed sheets; he only patted his leg, making Draco stand and drape himself over the narrow lap.
Each slap became progressively harder, from slightly stinging to a burning, welting type of feeling, a feeling that made Draco gasp out his shaky breaths, made his hips push against Ron’s leg, even though he remained without erection. Finally, his body twisted, the pain and the pleasure froze until his nerves tingled, and Ron’s slow strokes on Draco’s backside calmed him down.
“Very good, Draco. Very good. You did just fine. I’m going to have you toddle off to Harry now. He’s got a whole handful for you.”
Draco didn’t look up as he slid to the floor, his body having betrayed him for all of the Gryffindors to see. He crawled to Harry, ignoring the bruises he felt were already forming, and ate his reward even less fervently than his previous turns. The food was clearing his head, and if he got a bit of a rest after the dizzying emotion of the spanking, he might even begin to feel better.
“Continue eating, but when you’re finished, you’re going crawl over to Seamus. He needs a foot rub. And after that, he’ll like a bit of nibbling. If you do it well enough, I have something for you to drink here. You must be thirsty. It’s even pumpkin juice.”
Draco finished quickly, his desire for a rest cut short by his sudden, desperate need to drink. He forgot the pain of the hard stones underneath him as he made his way to Seamus bed, rumpled; no longer the neat and tidy Draco had worked so hard on.
Draco was required to untie the laces, gently ease off the shoes and the socks, and kneel on the stone while he rubbed a white, scentless lotion unto Seamus’ feet. While the lotion removed the slight odor, Draco was hesitant as he brought the warm skin to his mouth. He was correctly, the lotion tasted bitter, but he continued licking with inexperience at the skin, sometimes accidentally scraping his teeth against a rougher area. It was while his teeth did that - the abrasive sensation sending a quiver down Draco’s back - that Seamus bucked, coming half unto his hand, half unto Draco’s shoulder. He shuddered, but didn’t change his expression, still looking down, still ready to take his next order.
“Seamus won’t be saying anything for a bit. Come here and get your juice.”
“Yes, master.”
Draco was still thirsty, even with the desire to rub his shoulder clean. He moved quickly, tilting his head awkwardly as Harry tipped the juice towards him. He ignored the bit that dribbled down his chin, the come that dripped down his back, and thought only about making sure he got his next bite.
It came then, surprising Draco, though he had already learned to keep those thoughts to himself. He opened his mouth, accepting the food, small bit by small bit, until Harry had finished feeding him the plateful of meat. He was given more pumpkin juice, and while the long rest did much to relieve his shakes, if not his pale, exhausted countenance.
“Now, Dean and I, we want something slightly different. I told you, you would only be allowed to come in your pants, like a good little boy would. That’s what we want, you see. You’ve had your rest, and eaten up, so let’s see if your body is up to it or not. Just crawl to that midpoint there.”
Draco did, half thankful for the food, half in trepidation for what was expected of him.
“Okay, stop there. Pull on those knickers Neville has there. Good. Now, thinking about kissing all of us, and touch yourself.”
Draco did, his mouth open and his eyes wide as they shifted from Gryffindor to Gryffindor. When he thought of kissing Longbottom, all he could imagine was the taste of ashes in his mouth, and dust. Ron’s teeth would bite and burn. Seamus would smell, strongly, though neither good nor bad. Dean would never kiss him.
Harry’s kiss, though, would humiliate, and hurt, and make Draco give up everything he had ever known to be the Light Side’s whore.
Draco came, the pretty pink knickers wet with his release, and he knew, before being told, to drop back into his crawl.
“Good. Very good. I am very pleased with your progress, Draco. Now, early bedtime for the little one, and you will remember what needs to be done tomorrow.”
“Yes, master.”
Draco left the knickers on, knowing that without an express order to remove them, they were to stay on. He curled up in his matt on the floor, thighs sticky, and slept the evening through.
“Wake up, Draco. We need to make sure you are properly outfitted for today.”
He was ordered to peel back the dried knickers, pulling painfully at his hair, and given another pair, in green, to wear while he did the cleaning that day. When he finished it, he was to cuff himself to the base of Ron’s bed, and wait for them.
They were the Gryffindors. They were the good guys. They were all he would know for his last Hogwarts years.
This came out. Not my usual style. I don't even normally read this stuff.
So, yeah. Here it is. It is unbeta'd, it is not fine-tuned. This is bareback, baby, and when I get the rubbers, you'll know I truly love it.
Fuckers. I don't know where that came from either.
“Draco, you belong to me now. You are mine. Mine to do as I say. And I say, strip naked, and make Neville’s bed. In fact, the house elves work too hard. You’ll be responsible for making all of our beds in the morning. Then you can wash down the floors, dust, clear out the fireplace grates, tidy up things, and in the evenings give all of our shoes a bit of a shine. If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you come in your pants for us.”
“Yes, master.”
“Good, you didn’t forget. Now, I believe I told you to strip.”
“Yes, master.”
Draco complied, trying to ignore the chocked up feeling of his heart pounding against his Adam’s apple. All of the boys were staring wide-eyed at him as he followed Harry’s orders, striping completely naked, before turning to Neville’s bed, and trying to fix it up as best as possible with his limited experience. Then he moved to Dean’s, then Seamus’, then Ron’s, and then Harry’s bed. Once finished, He returned to Harry, to request permission to call a bucket and water, when Harry showed his forethought. A house elf snapped the necessary supplies into the dorm room, and the other’s left for breakfast. Harry fingered Draco’s wand as he left, knowing that Draco had no use for wands, or classes, or for the most part, clothes, ever again.
When the boys returned from their classes in the late afternoon, they found Draco sitting quietly on the floor, chores finished, body shaky from exertion and hunger. His blood pressure had dropped, and even if he was allowed to, he would not have been capable of donning his clothing and returning to Slytherin. Harry contemplated making the boy stand up then, ordered to pleasure with himself so they could punish him when he could not achieve an erection. He thought it would be more fun another way.
"Ron, Draco has completed his work, and well I might add. I do believe that deserves a reward. If you could get a meal from the kitchen, please?"
While Ron left, Harry and the other three boys made a cursory examination of their newly cleaned room. The grate's work was rather patchy at best, but experience would fix that better than punishment. The beds weren't precisely straight, but they had been smoothed sometime after their initial make up, and the floor was spotless. Harry nearly wished for a pair of white gloves to search for dust, and had nearly decided to conjure a pair up when Ron returned.
"We'll have roast chicken tonight, Harry. And because you said it was to be a reward, I thought Draco might have that same honour."
"Very nice. If you could set it there. Now, Draco, you have done splendidly so far, don't disappoint now. We want a bit of a before dinner show. When I hold up the bit of chicken, you are going to do whatever it is we say, and then you may have the bit. Here, you'll learn by going about. This is a nice thick piece. Rather juicy, and I know you must be hungry. I want you to crawl from over there, to here. Simple really. Just crawl about on the floor a bit."
"Yes, master." And he did, moving from his sitting position into one on all fours, Draco painfully moved from his corner to Harry, sitting on the edge of the bed that Draco had remade 8 times that day, trying to get it correct. He hadn't dared hope that his reward would be as straightforward as Harry had presented it, but he was not entirely sure he would be able to handle this new little game along with everything else he had be subjected to that day, coupled with his hunger. It had been two days since he'd last eaten, and he'd have gladly removed his own limbs for that small bit of meat pinched between Harry's fingers.
He stopped, right before Harry, knowing that while he had performed his task, he could not take his own reward. If Harry chose, he could make Draco do dozens of tasks, telling him each time he would finally get the piece. At Draco's stop, Harry smiled brilliantly, before leaning his hand down to Draco's mouth. "Eat."
"Yes, master."
Draco chewed slowly, afraid of chocking with his throat so tight.
"Now, I want you to crawl over to Neville, and lick his shoes a bit. The tops of both, the sides, and I think we'll save the bottoms for a punishment. When he deems them clean, you may crawl back here, and have this next bite." The piece was slightly larger, and for one dizzying moment, Draco wondered why Harry would bother to do that. To make sure he actually ate, to differentiate between duty and punishment, to organize this system of rewards. His mind was too hazy though, and it was hard to focus on anything other than finding Longbottom's shoes without looking up from his bent path. To making sure he did a thorough job even as his tongue became tired, his mouth dragging along trying to ease the process, breathing through his nose, and waiting for Neville to decide that the third cleaning was enough, or maybe he was on the fourth.
“Not a bad job, Draco. When you clean them tomorrow, though, I’ll expect you to do it in a timely manner. None of this dilly-dallying around having fun whilst the rest of us work.”
“No, master. I’m sorry.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry, master.”
“That is much better. You may return to Harry now.”
The crawling was quickly becoming painful, the stone scraping against his palms, the uneven flooring jamming into the hollows of his knees. He could ignore it, nearly for eternity, if they would continue letting him eat.
“Here you go, Draco. Eat up.”
He still ate slowly, and was permit to lick at Harry’s fingers, trying to get those last little drops of gravy.
“You are doing so well. So well. I think that your next task should be a happier one. Ron?”
“Do you mean, Harry, a spanking?”
Draco’s face, upturned from accepting his food from Harry’s hand, looked startled.
“You look confused, Draco. Almost as though you don’t quite trust your masters’ judgment in these matters. If you are to be punished, you will know you are being punished. A spanking is much fun, for all of us. Crawl on over to Ron, now, and find out.”
Draco did as he was told, the nausea slowly fading with each bit of food he earned. Ron didn’t have to say anything, from his spot on the crumpled bed sheets; he only patted his leg, making Draco stand and drape himself over the narrow lap.
Each slap became progressively harder, from slightly stinging to a burning, welting type of feeling, a feeling that made Draco gasp out his shaky breaths, made his hips push against Ron’s leg, even though he remained without erection. Finally, his body twisted, the pain and the pleasure froze until his nerves tingled, and Ron’s slow strokes on Draco’s backside calmed him down.
“Very good, Draco. Very good. You did just fine. I’m going to have you toddle off to Harry now. He’s got a whole handful for you.”
Draco didn’t look up as he slid to the floor, his body having betrayed him for all of the Gryffindors to see. He crawled to Harry, ignoring the bruises he felt were already forming, and ate his reward even less fervently than his previous turns. The food was clearing his head, and if he got a bit of a rest after the dizzying emotion of the spanking, he might even begin to feel better.
“Continue eating, but when you’re finished, you’re going crawl over to Seamus. He needs a foot rub. And after that, he’ll like a bit of nibbling. If you do it well enough, I have something for you to drink here. You must be thirsty. It’s even pumpkin juice.”
Draco finished quickly, his desire for a rest cut short by his sudden, desperate need to drink. He forgot the pain of the hard stones underneath him as he made his way to Seamus bed, rumpled; no longer the neat and tidy Draco had worked so hard on.
Draco was required to untie the laces, gently ease off the shoes and the socks, and kneel on the stone while he rubbed a white, scentless lotion unto Seamus’ feet. While the lotion removed the slight odor, Draco was hesitant as he brought the warm skin to his mouth. He was correctly, the lotion tasted bitter, but he continued licking with inexperience at the skin, sometimes accidentally scraping his teeth against a rougher area. It was while his teeth did that - the abrasive sensation sending a quiver down Draco’s back - that Seamus bucked, coming half unto his hand, half unto Draco’s shoulder. He shuddered, but didn’t change his expression, still looking down, still ready to take his next order.
“Seamus won’t be saying anything for a bit. Come here and get your juice.”
“Yes, master.”
Draco was still thirsty, even with the desire to rub his shoulder clean. He moved quickly, tilting his head awkwardly as Harry tipped the juice towards him. He ignored the bit that dribbled down his chin, the come that dripped down his back, and thought only about making sure he got his next bite.
It came then, surprising Draco, though he had already learned to keep those thoughts to himself. He opened his mouth, accepting the food, small bit by small bit, until Harry had finished feeding him the plateful of meat. He was given more pumpkin juice, and while the long rest did much to relieve his shakes, if not his pale, exhausted countenance.
“Now, Dean and I, we want something slightly different. I told you, you would only be allowed to come in your pants, like a good little boy would. That’s what we want, you see. You’ve had your rest, and eaten up, so let’s see if your body is up to it or not. Just crawl to that midpoint there.”
Draco did, half thankful for the food, half in trepidation for what was expected of him.
“Okay, stop there. Pull on those knickers Neville has there. Good. Now, thinking about kissing all of us, and touch yourself.”
Draco did, his mouth open and his eyes wide as they shifted from Gryffindor to Gryffindor. When he thought of kissing Longbottom, all he could imagine was the taste of ashes in his mouth, and dust. Ron’s teeth would bite and burn. Seamus would smell, strongly, though neither good nor bad. Dean would never kiss him.
Harry’s kiss, though, would humiliate, and hurt, and make Draco give up everything he had ever known to be the Light Side’s whore.
Draco came, the pretty pink knickers wet with his release, and he knew, before being told, to drop back into his crawl.
“Good. Very good. I am very pleased with your progress, Draco. Now, early bedtime for the little one, and you will remember what needs to be done tomorrow.”
“Yes, master.”
Draco left the knickers on, knowing that without an express order to remove them, they were to stay on. He curled up in his matt on the floor, thighs sticky, and slept the evening through.
“Wake up, Draco. We need to make sure you are properly outfitted for today.”
He was ordered to peel back the dried knickers, pulling painfully at his hair, and given another pair, in green, to wear while he did the cleaning that day. When he finished it, he was to cuff himself to the base of Ron’s bed, and wait for them.
They were the Gryffindors. They were the good guys. They were all he would know for his last Hogwarts years.
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no subject
Date: 2004-02-22 10:03 am (UTC)Re:
Date: 2004-02-22 11:47 am (UTC)Thank you very much for the compliment.
no subject
Date: 2004-02-22 01:11 pm (UTC)Re:
Date: 2004-02-22 01:19 pm (UTC)Re:
Date: 2004-02-22 02:48 pm (UTC)I'm getting a webpage made, so that will take a while.
Sorry. Um, I made a post that has links to all my stories somewhere on teh bottom.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-22 05:52 pm (UTC)*sob* Where?