“Tonight, you have a choice.”
Draco recognised that particular purr in Severus’ voice, and it wasn’t one that generally heralded choices for him. He looked up from his leatherbound copy of Quidditch Through The Ages. (It had originally been a battered little red paperback, but Draco had had it leatherbound. This at least reduced Severus’ wincing on the days he found Draco sprawled across the library rug, thoroughly ignoring the various intelligent and worthy tomes in favour of the Beautiful Game.)
Severus was standing in the doorway, tall and wrapped in black as ever. He was carrying a thin rattan cane.
Draco stood in a stumbling rush. “What did I do?”
He hated the cane, and Severus knew it. It wasn’t like the solid thud of the flogger, that drove him relentlessly towards orgasm; it wasn’t like the filthy thrill of being arse-up over Severus’ lap for a spanking. The cane was thin and whippy and it stung him nastily.
Severus didn’t stroke his hair or caress him when he was being caned, either; Draco had to get through six of the best before his lover would touch him.
But Severus, knowing how much Draco hated it, didn’t cane him unless he felt Draco had done something awful. (Or, on one memorable occasion, as a trade-off when Draco wanted to be thoroughly kissed against a wall in Diagon Alley.)
Severus eyed him, his long, potions-stained fingers playing up and down the length of the cane.
“What did I do?” Draco repeated, hearing that his voice become a whine without being able to stop it. “I haven’t done anything!”
Severus raised an eyebrow. “I did not say you had, Draco. This isn’t punishment; this is... an exercise in discipline.”
Draco scowled at him and didn’t say I have discipline! because he didn’t like it when Severus laughed at him.
“Tonight, if you wish, I will forgo the cane. Instead you will be thoroughly spanked in the manner you most enjoy, until you are wrung out and happy. However, if I spank you, I will also perform a spell that renders you unable to orgasm. You will have to wait all night, aching, until I allow you to come tomorrow morning.” Severus slanted a wry grin at him, like he and Draco were sharing a secret. “You will, of course, bring me to orgasm in any way I request.”
Draco’s heart plummeted. He loved being spanked, the embarrassment of it, the sound, the feel of the impact. Severus usually spanked Draco over his lap, too, and being laid naked over Severus’ scratchy wool robes with Severus’ warm hand hitting and caressing him...
But Draco knew Severus would make it just as hard for him as he could. The thought of having Severus’ cock in his mouth, or being fucked slow and dirty, without any hope of coming...
Draco swallowed. “What... what about the cane?”
Severus’ thin mouth curved up into a sharp smile, and Draco shivered. “If you choose the cane, it’s twenty strikes. And then I will indulge you.”
Draco knew Severus would enjoy spanking him, and teasing him; but he thought Severus would be more pleased if Draco gave himself up to the cane and Severus’ care.
And though he hated it in the moment, watching Severus stand so tall with the cane in his hand was hardening Draco’s cock.
He had to shut his eyes before he could say it. “I choose the cane.”
Footsteps, and then Draco felt his face being raised by Severus’ fingers. Severus kissed him like he was taking Draco, and all Draco could do was moan and shiver and try to keep up. He reached blindly for Severus’ shoulders, wanting to hold on, and Severus stepped out of his grasp.
Draco opened his eyes to see Severus standing over him. “Remove your clothing.”
Draco knew Severus liked to see him do it, without magic. He always felt ungainly, climbing
out of his robes under Severus’ penetrating dark eyes; but by the time he was naked in front of his lover, a light blush was touching Severus’ cheekbones. Draco thrilled to the thought that he was affecting his ever-controlled lover. He could feel his heart pounding, and his whole body seemed to heat, despite the cool of the room.
Severus’ eyes were intense; they felt like a caress as they slid down Draco’s body. Draco felt himself flush, half with embarrassment at the intent perusal, and half with desire.
“Bend over the desk, and hold on.”
The first hit shocked more than it hurt. Draco gasped, clenching his arse reflexively. Severus waited for a long moment, then caned him again. This time the pain hit.
Severus kept going. He counted the blows out for Draco: an indulgence, and one Draco was grateful for. Every strike was a shock, bringing one blinding moment of pain before it lessened. By five strokes, tears were welling in his eyes. By eight they were dripping from his chin.
Severus’ rich voice, thick with lust, and the shock of each new stripe melded together for Draco. His thighs were trembling. The stinging, burning pain was miserable but it stoked his desire, driving it higher and higher until Draco was mewling continuously in pain and lust.
“You’re like a cat in heat, Draco. Who would have thought you said you didn’t want this?”
Draco choked out a laugh that became a sob as the sixteenth stripe hit the underside of his arse, cutting deeply into the soft flesh. Severus was carefully working his arse over, covering it with flaring lines of pain.
Seventeen hit him where his arse became his thighs and Draco howled so loudly that he almost didn’t hear Severus sucking his breath in through his teeth at the sight. He was still crying, the tears coming so thick and fast he almost couldn’t see. Severus was putting his back into every strike, and it was so much force laid into that thin whippy cane...
“Brace yourself, Draco.”
Nineteen was laid down right across the line of eighteen. Draco cried out, flinching away, but put himself back in place. Then the last strike came down, hitting that same spot again with deadly accuracy. Draco shrieked, every muscle in his body clenching, and then it was over and the cane was on the table in front of him.
A great breath stuttered out of Draco in his relief. Now that he didn’t have to stay in place, tensed muscles turned to liquid and he bent further over the desk, crying.
Severus’ hand on his shoulder turned him and led him to the sofa. Draco should have felt embarrassed - could remember, still, how once humiliation had scorched him whenever Severus made him cry - but there was no room for it inside him. Not with Severus spelling away his own clothes and pulling Draco down with him to the sofa, holding him.
Draco moaned softly at the feel of Severus’ warmth. Even now, he could be taken by surprise when his ice-pale, black-eyed lover’s body produced such searing, comforting heat.
Severus pushed Draco down onto the sofa. Draco went easily as his back hit the fabric; then he arched, whimpering, as his arse pressed against it. His breath hitched as he tried to relax into the pain. Draco saw Severus’ mouth curve as he heard the sound.
Severus’ face was close to his, now, as he pushed between Draco’s parted legs. The intensity in his black eyes was intoxicating; Draco felt helpless before it, unable to look away from Severus’ face as those long fingers curled around Draco’s cock.
His cock leaked pre-come over Severus’ hand. Draco groaned, rocking his hips into Severus’ touch, and made a protesting sound when Severus drew his hand away.
Severus licked Draco’s pre-come off his long fingers, holding Draco’s gaze, and Draco lost his breath.
“Hips up.” Draco pressed his feet into the sofa cushions and obeyed. Severus muttered a spell - lust thumped through Draco at his wandless power - and pressed two slick fingers inside him. Severus’ hand was splayed against Draco’s arse cheeks, sparking pain, even as his fingers teased and stretched and pleasured Draco. The words spilling from Draco’s mouth were half-incoherent.
Severus murmured a new spell, and his robes disappeared. Draco didn’t get a chance to enjoy the sight: immediately Severus was pressing forward and removing his fingers. Draco gave a cry that echoed off the walls as Severus slid inside.
Pain sang through his nerves with every thrust as Severus’ hips hit his arse. The relief of having Severus inside him mixed with the pain as Severus deliberately ground against him. Severus’ dark eyes were alight, his upper lip drawn back in a half-snarl of lust, as Draco’s face crumpled with the pain. He grabbed at Severus’ shoulders, wanting to feel even more of that connection, as his nerve endings sparked and flared.
Severus fucked him harder now, driving him into making more of those helpless noises, and Severus was actually grunting as he lost control. The pain was throbbing and Severus’ hands were on him and it was too much. Draco didn’t have enough breath to scream when his orgasm hit.
Severus fucked him through it, and kept going, chasing his own pleasure, until he came with a long, loud groan. After an adolescence in Slytherin dorms and an oppressive home, and an adulthood spent in iron control of every emotion, any sexual sound Draco could drag out of him was a victory. Draco smiled foggily through his afterglow, exulting, as Severus collapsed atop him in a sweaty heap.
Draco hid his smile against Severus’ shoulder. Apparently, Severus had been right all those years ago. If he paid attention to what Severus wanted, Draco was perfectly capable of making very good choices.