It all started because Draco was teasing her. Which, frankly, was how a lot of things started. She'd made the curry a little hotter than usual, and when he reached for the raita she laughed at him, and he answered: "Just give me the yogurt, sadist."
Ginny didn't say anything right then, just handed him the bowl so he could soothe his tongue and palate, but later, after dinner, she asked if he really thought she was one.
"You like seeing me in pain," he replied. "Isn't that the definition? I never said I wasn't a masochist, after all."
The odd thing was, she'd never thought about the kinkier side of their sex lives in that way. Draco liked being told what to do, and Ginny liked to tell him. Draco liked being tied up and used, and Ginny liked being in control, liked earning the trust he had in her. Draco liked pain mixed in with his pleasure, and Ginny liked being able to give that to him.
"And you keep devising new ways to do it," he went on. "Don't think I don't know what you're growing in the back corner of the garden."
"That was supposed to be a surprise," Ginny said, annoyed.
"Oh believe me, on the day, it will be," he said.
She realized then that Draco must be right, because in that little wild corner of the garden, just at the tree line, she'd planted a patch of nettles. When they grew thick enough, she'd practiced moving them with magic, hoping to avoid having to charm her skin so she could handle the plants. But once she started working with them she'd decided that wouldn't do, that she'd need to be intimate with them, to place them, so, and to see close up what they were doing to Draco. Not just for safety's sake, not just because he was her responsibility, but because she liked seeing him in distress, red-faced, tears on his cheeks.
"Well," she said, "aren't you lucky I am?"
"Very," Draco agreed, and went back to his book.
The day she chose was warm but overcast, though rain wasn't expected. The indirect, grey light suited Draco, made his skin glow, and the temperature high enough for him to be outside without any clothes on. She put up the wards to discourage unexpected visitors, then told him to undress and follow her to that back corner. He looked apprehensive, but he obeyed, pausing just before he got to the nettle patch.
Ginny, having charmed her skin against the stinging barbs of the nettles, was wearing her usual little tank dress and gladiator sandals. She walked right into the patch and turned. "Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked.
"Just walk into it?" he asked.
"Don't worry," she replied. "It will get worse than that."
He nodded, took a breath, and walked into the thicket of nettles. It took a moment before he was gasping at the stings of the plants, which were tall enough now to reach his mid-thigh. "Ginny?"
She pointed to a bar that she'd levitated between two trees, high enough above his head so his arms would be stretched above him. He would be standing out of the nettles there; just the walk through the patch had done the work on his legs that she'd wanted to see.
"Grab that, and don't let go," she ordered. As he obeyed she pulled up one of the plants, and once he was in position she began to rub it all over his chest.
"Oh," he gasped, and she could see already on his legs the red irritated bumps that meant the nettles were doing their work. "Oh no."
"How does it feel?" she asked, pulling a large leaf off one of the stems.
"It burns," he said, gasping. "Oh, it itches." He shifted his feet, trying to get relief.
"Don't resist it," she said. She took the leaf and curled it around one of his nipples, twisting it back and forth in her fingers.
He tensed, trying to get away, and cried out. "Ow, ow. It burns so much, Ginny."
"We can always stop, whenever you like," she said. "I made up some ointment that will stop the hurt right away. But you love the burn, don't you?"
Draco hummed, and bit his lip, stubborn, so she took a fresh leaf and went after his other nipple. "Oh god. Yes. Yes I do," he admitted. "I do."
"Where else do you want it?" she asked, throwing the used nettles aside.
She waited as Draco caught his breath. "Wherever you want it, Ginny," he replied.
"I want you to tell me. Where do you always want it to burn the most?"
"My bottom," he said.
"Good, my good boy," she said, and gave him a kiss. "Let go of the bar now."
He obeyed, and she used her wand to lower the bar until it was at Draco's waist. He moved even before she asked him to, bending at the waist to grab the bar, and widening his stance to expose his arse and give Ginny easy access to his cock and balls as well. It was not, of course, an unfamiliar position for him.
She pulled up another bunch of nettles and ran them along his back and his upper thighs, teasing him, and he moaned and pushed back into them. His legs were shaking a little, and even more of his skin was breaking out into the nettle-caused rash.
"You like that?" she asked.
"Please," he said.
"Since you asked," she replied, and pushed the leaves hard against his arse, against the crease of his thigh, and he was pushing back into it again, widening his legs even further.
"Thank you," he said, shuddering at her touch, and there was a hiccup in his voice.
"Are you crying?" she asked, stopping. "Let me see."
He turned his face so she could watch the tears running down his flushed cheeks. "It burns so much."
"You're very pretty like this," she said, because he was, his grey eyes glistening in the light. "But we want you sobbing, don't we?"
He sniffed, and nodded.
"I can do what I need right here," she said. "You keep your eyes on me."
He nodded again.
She took up yet another fresh bunch of plants and this time, ran them between his legs, along his inner thighs and balls.
He shouted, and his feet stomped, not unlike a horse. "Oh god," he said, and as she kept going he cried harder, breathing heavily and choking out a few sobs.
"There you go," she said. "That's what we wanted. Just one more thing, and we can stop."
"All right," he said, whimpering. "One more thing."
"Good." She pulled two leaves from a fresh plant, and curled them up into a little cigar. Then she leaned over, pulling his arse apart a bit more—and from here, looking down, she could see how very red and irritated the skin between his thighs was, especially that poor, soft, sensitive skin on his testicles—and pushed her leafy bundle into his little hole.
He bucked, but he managed to stay in place. "Oh my god," he said, his chest heaving. "Burns, oh my god."
"Do you like that?" she asked, finally wrapping one hand around his cock. "Would you love to be fucked like that? A dildo covered with them, burning you anew with every stroke? Burning you all the way down as it pushes into you?"
He thrust into her hand, then back into the fingers that were pushing the leaves into him. "Yes, yes," he said. "Oh my god."
"Would that make you come?" she asked. "Are you going to come for me now, with all these nettles on you, with all the stinging and burning?"
"Yes," he said.
"I'm going to make you come, because you're a little pain slut, aren't you? You love it."
"I do, I do, I do," he chanted, and then he came, spurting onto the ground.
Ginny quickly took all the nettles away, and when he'd calmed down a bit, she let him around the patch and back to the grassy part of the garden.
He was sniffing and wiping away his tears. "I suppose when I come on the soil I don't have to lick it up after," he said, referring to their usual rule.
"No," Ginny replied. "We'll just leave it and see what grows."
"But I still get to go down on you, don't I?" he asked.
"Of course," she replied, and he smiled.
They sat down in the grass and Ginny pulled a small jar from a pocket in her dress. "I can put this on you whenever you like," she said. "It stops the pain straight away."
Draco, still blinking back tears, looked at the jar for a moment before shaking his head. "Let's wait a little while longer," he said, and leaned down to put his head between her legs.