An Unlikely Desire | By : KJmom827 Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 75098 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 8 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
A/N: Ask and ye shall receive... Nah, I was halfway done with this before you asked... But that doesn't mean I won't submit to your demands... :) Anyway, I've decided that this is the point that I should start giving you warnings at the beginning of each chapter. That way, if you're interested, but something squicks you or causes you stress, you'll know which chapters to skip. So, for this we have bondage, toys, spanking, slight humiliation, and mentions (promises) of future fisting. I'm also doing something different here. I'm leaving you hanging. Mainly because I hit a point where I wanted to change POVs. Don't hate me for it.
I never would have thought I’d see Harry Potter tied to my father’s bed. I certainly never would have thought he’d be there willingly. Yet, here we are. Father is sitting in a chair, hidden in darkness, but I’m to forget he is there. Harry’s arms and legs are tied to the headboard, forcing his legs to bend under him. He’s pulled tight enough that I know it’s just this side of painful. His perfect arse is splayed open by the ropes pulling him in either direction and up at the same time. He can’t help but to offer his whole body to me. It’s a tight fit, but I can even reach his nipples with my tongue.
There are an assortment of toys - wizard and muggle alike - on an enlarged table at the foot of the bed. Before we began, Harry inspected each and deemed them all acceptable. He has his word, though he assured me he wouldn’t need it, that I couldn’t do anything to him that he wouldn’t like. So, the only question that remains, the only possible kink in this plan is, can I do this?
The answer is yes. I can and will do anything Harry asks of me. He wants to be loved? I can do it. He wants to be fucked? I can do it. He wants me to spank him until he begs for mercy? I can do that as well. But first…
The selection of plugs is just a little intimidating. They vary in size and length. Why I would need one almost as small as my finger is just as confusing to me as why I would need one bigger than both my fists put together. I select one that’s about the size of my thumb at the tip and half as large as my wrist before it shrinks drastically and flares out into a base the size of my palm.
I move as silently as I can to the side of the bed, the side opposite from the direction his head is turned. He jumps, pulling the ropes and his body taut, as my lube slicked fingers suddenly circle his opening.
“Hold still, baby. I’m just going to stretch you a little. You look so empty right now, you need to be filled a little, don’t you?”
He nods his head, but doesn’t speak. He’d asked me to gag him, but I refused. I want to hear every sound he makes, and I want him to actually be able to say that word if he feels the need. I’d also like for him to answer me when I ask him a question. I bring my hand down on his arse, hard, but not nearly as hard as I plan to do soon. He cries out at the unexpected blow.
“I asked you a question, love. It wasn’t rhetorical. I expect an answer,” We’d also toyed with and discussed the question of what I should call him and vice versa. We agreed that my options are unlimited and he will call me…
“Yes, sir,” Anything else we came up with just seemed too cliché.
“Yes, sir, what?”
“I’m…empty, need something in me,” I reward him by gently soothing the slightly red mark on his left cheek, another nicety he won’t be receiving soon.
“Good boy,” I apply more lube to his hole and position the tip of the plug. I’ll insert it slowly, but I’m not going to stretch him first.
“Just relax, push against me and this will be a lot easier on you. It’s rather small, so you should be able to take it with no preparation.”
It seems to slide in a little too easily, I make up for that by twisting it viciously a few times once it’s in place. He whimpers and shivers, but doesn’t even attempt to pull away.
“There you go, love. Nice and full, for now. We’ll work on getting you even more full in a bit. First I think you should be punished for your failure to answer a direct question earlier. What do you think? Ten swats? Fifteen? Should I use my hand, or my belt?” I almost hope that he won’t answer me. If he doesn’t, I can feel justified in increasing the punishment considerably.
“F-fifteen, use both, please, sir.”
“Very well, then. Both it is, but I think we should keep it even, don’t you?” I’m sure he doesn’t really know what I’m suggesting, or promising, but he agrees.
“Yes, sir.”
“So, twenty, ten from my hand, ten with my belt.” He quivers a little when I bring my hand down on his arse again, but it’s a love tap compared to what he is about to receive.
“I think I’d like you to count them for me. Can you do that, baby?”
He nods briskly but doesn’t fail to answer verbally as well, “Yes, sir. That was one.”
“No, I don’t think we’ll count that one, so let’s start from the beginning.”
I bring my hand down with considerable force on his right cheek.
“One.” His voice is strong and holds no trace of the tears I plan to have by the end.
The other cheek gets similar treatment.
“Two.” Still steady, but that’s to be expected, for now.
The next blow covers both cheeks and earns me a little yelp.
“Three.”
I deliver the fourth to the back of one thigh.
“Four.” His voice wavers just a little.
The fifth strike isn’t so predictable, I avoid the other thigh in favor of catching both cheeks again and letting my hand - ever-so-slightly - smack his balls.
“F-FIVE!” The number rings out through the room and I’m pleased to hear him choke on it.
I get his other thigh on the sixth.
“Six.” He’s still too composed.
The next four I deliver in rapid succession as hard as my hand will allow.
“Seven.”
“Eig-Eight.”
“NI-NINE!”
“TENNNNN!”
He still isn’t crying, but his whole body is quaking with the strain of the position he’s in and the continual harsh treatment of his arse. Which, at this point, is bright red and covered with my handprints.
I firmly pinch one cheek and he finally presses forward in an effort to get away. Just because I can and I avoided it during his spanking, I slap the plug once, jabbing it further into his body.
He mewls and arches, “Sir? If-if you aren’t careful I might… I mean…”
“Are you trying to tell me you haven’t the restraint to control yourself? A simple spanking has you worked up enough to blow your load all over the bed?”
“Yes, sir.” I sigh, as if the thought of constricting his cock bores and upsets me.
“I suppose you need something to keep that from happening?”
“Please, sir.” I think I just might like the docile quality of his voice. I think I might like the way he’s deferring to me.
I return to the table and gather, not only the cock ring, but a larger plug as well. I lay the plug far enough away that he can’t see it and slap his arse once.
“Raise up so I can get this on you.” He lifts himself as much as he can and I work it onto him, “I can’t believe I need to treat you like a nasty little slut to keep you from coming everywhere.”
I’m not even sure what prompted that sentence, but I hear his breath hitch and feel him shudder. Things are only going to get more interesting if he wants me to degrade him. That I could do in my sleep, years worth of practice, you know.
In one swift movement, I jerk the plug from his arse and delight in his surprised squeal.
“That’s too small for you, a whore like yourself needs more than that dinky little thing.” A little more lube, though not much, and I’m pressing the next plug - twice the size of it’s predecessor - into him.
“Oh! Oh, god. Oh, sir, please.” He begs so prettily, but he’ll get even better before I’m finished with him.
It’s almost in, but I pull it back out and tease him with it for just a moment.
“You know what I think I’d like? I think I’d like to untie you and watch you fuck yourself on this. You’d do that for me, wouldn’t you? Fuck yourself hard and deep on this plug? Fuck it until you are dry and raw?”
“Yes, yes, YES! Yes, sir.” I force it in all the way in the middle of his answer. For the first time since we started, I’m reminded that my father is watching when he lets a moan slip free. It shouldn’t give me the thrill it does.
Harry’s hole is stretched wider, but there’s still room to push him further. I consider doing that now, but decide to finish his punishment first.
“Ok, you filthy slut, I need to give you your ten licks with my belt. Are you ready for that?” As if he has any choice in the matter.
“Yes, sir.” He sounds a little more uncertain now, but I hear nothing that sounds even remotely like his word.
I am deliberately loud in removing my belt. I let every clink of the metal roll over him and build his anticipation. I step into his line of sight as I’m pulling it through the loops and hear him groan. Oh yeah, he’s nervous, and rightfully so, but he still wants this.
“This time, I’d like for you to count, but if you are unable to continue, I will understand. This is going to be painful, Harry.” I use his first name to remind him that he is still Harry and I am still Draco, and if he needs me to stop, I will stop. But not unless he really means it.
I double my belt and get a firm grip on the metal fastenings, I do not want to hurt him in a way he won’t enjoy. The leather whistles through the air, announcing the impending arrival of pain a half-second before connecting with his body and delivering it.
“ONE!” He yells the word loud enough that I actually jump in surprise.
The next few lashes cause him further distress and by the time I get to number five he isn’t counting anymore. Number eight causes him to sob and on number nine I finally get the tears I so desperately want. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I spare him the last blow.
I discard my belt and the rest of my clothing on the floor and join him on the bed. There’s a bottle of lotion on the nightstand and I pump some into my hand. I don’t want to take the pain away, but I do need to offer him some comfort and reassurance.
I spread it liberally over his abused and bruising skin and he emits a whimpering sigh that turns me on even more that the tears falling onto the sheets. I’m suddenly bursting with the urge to remind him that I can make him feel good.
I slowly pull the plug from his hole with the intent of releasing his cock and fucking him until he comes screaming my name. That doesn’t happen. The plug slips from his body and I’m greeted with the sight of a gaping, stretched arsehole. It’s so loose and so pliable. With a little more effort, I could work my whole hand into him.
“Fuck, your hole is huge. Does it feel good? Do you feel like the horny little slut you are? Arsehole gaping open, cock hard and leaking, you look like a fucking whore.”
“Yes, fuck yes.” I think about chiding him for his profanity, but I’m too busy squirting lube on my hand to really care.
“Do you want to know what I’m going to do to you?” I really am giving him the option. I mean, I’m going to do it either way, but I’ll let him choose how he discovers my intentions.
“Yes, sir, please.”
“Well, right now I’m covering my hand in lube. My whole hand, halfway up my forearm. Any guesses as to where I intend to put it?”
I see his body go into overdrive. He tenses, he starts to breathe so hard I think he might pass out, and he buries his head - face down - in the bed. What he doesn’t do, however, is whisper that magic little word.
“You piece of shit whore. You want this. You want my fist so far in you that you feel it in your throat, don’t you?”
He moans, but his embarrassment won’t let him answer. He’s blushing bright enough that I almost can’t tell where I spanked him. I think about forcing the answer from him, but I really don’t need to, we both know. We all know.
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