Subs for Sale. It was a company Harry had been struggling to decide whether he should use or not for weeks now it seemed like. Sub boys at your disposal, for whatever you want, whenever you want! The advertisement boasted in Harry’s face as he sat looking at the scroll, his mouth twisted up into a wary scowl.
A part of him felt like using the service would be inherently wrong and somehow, someone would find out about it, judge him, and tell every living soul they could that Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived himself, was kinky. He could see it on the front page of the Daily Prophet in his head - The Chosen One has Chosen to Venture into the World of BDSM? Read more inside!
Speaking of kinkiness anyways, Harry himself had first begun to even consider the possibility that he might be interested in sadism in the first place the more he had felt powerless in his own life, ironically. Many times, he felt like everyone but him was informed of everything happening around him, and it seemed others only thought of him as a vulnerable child. He hated that. He never had truly felt real control over his own being and didn’t even truly now, and in some way, that had made him unbearably greedy for having control over others to make up for the loss of his own.
Not necessarily being-head-of-a-company power or I-will-step-on-anyone-to-get-what-I-want power, but just intimate control over something in his life for once. And once he had discovered the BDSM community, he knew he had found just what he needed.
Truly, it wasn’t just the dominance that intrigued him, but the idea of someone willingly giving themselves over to him. It was something that many people already did platonically in his real life, as everyone apparently felt they owed him whatever it was they thought they did. But, sexually? That was a whole other much more pleasing, rawly real and baring concept.
He loved the idea of someone submitting completely to him in a sexual situation, leaving themselves vulnerable and pliable to let him do whatever he pleased with them. The inflicting pain and engendering humiliation added to the fun; it let him break someone down to a level of submissiveness that was delectable in his mind. It was just what someone like him desperately demanded, psychologically and physically.
And then there was the whole liking boys thing too. Harry hadn’t noticed it earlier on in his life, didn’t even know being gay could even be a plausible attribute as a kid. He was never educated on the fact that his attraction to men and want to hold them and cherish them meant he might be into guys, so he never viewed it as abstruse or something to mention to others. It was just him. He figured everyone else felt that way too.
But, as time went on, and Harry began to realize that, no, no other guys, at least not the straight ones, felt this way but him, he grew worried. He had shut himself off completely from that side of his mind, not wanting to indulge in it any further; the last thing he needed was something else to set him light years apart from everyone else in terms of normality.
Eventually though, he had begrudgingly come to terms with his sexuality. It had taken years of denying himself what he really wanted and fruitlessly substituting his desires for boys with girls, which had never worked ever, but here he finally was. He had come out to Ron and Hermione and most of the other people he trusted in his life, and they were all quite shocked at first, but thankfully all accepted him and supported him, much to his gratefulness.
He didn’t tell the world, because frankly, he just simply didn’t want to. It wasn’t their business anyways. It didn’t matter what society thought of Harry Potter, because they didn’t know him for who he truly was and most likely never would. He didn’t feel he owed the common people an explanation for himself time and time again, especially about something as private as this. If he did end up with a bloke later on and it got out, so be it. That was just who he was, reason given or not.
Now, the wizarding community finding out about his penchant for hurting and humiliating people was completely different. That was frankly too clandestine to be shared with pretty much anyone, and he only ever saw himself potentially telling his future partners about it and no one else. It was one of the few surreptitious things the whole universe didn’t already know about him, and he would really, really like to keep it that way. But that didn’t mean he still wasn’t scared silly at the possibility of his kink getting out somehow though.
Harry knew deep down this probably wouldn’t ever really happen, although it didn’t do anything to deteriorate his paranoia. At least, he thought as he turned back to the paper in front of him, Subs for Sale promised complete confidentiality within the company itself and its users; all participants in the company’s services were bound by a secrecy charm, meaning you literally physically couldn’t tell others about the escapades you’d encountered with someone else. This made Harry feel at least a bit safer, as at least whoever he chose to hook up with wouldn’t be able to go blather their mouth after their time together about how the Harry James Potter had whipped them silly in a sex dungeon.
Although, the title of the enterprise itself was a bit misleading. The corporation functioned as more of a glorified dating service rather than a prostitution business, and no money was actually involved. Masochists were able to put up profiles on the company’s newsletter describing themselves to potential partners, and sadists were allowed to peruse the scroll the company sent out at one’s request and contact whoever they found to be interesting to see if they’d be open to getting together.
This was the step Harry was at currently. He had applied for the newsletter and had been accepted to receive one. Here it was in his hands right now, although really he had obtained it weeks ago in his mail. Ever since his owl, Hermie, who he had purchased after he had finished mourning Hedwig’s untimely death, had dropped it at his feet, every glance he gave it made him anxious.
He had opened it plenty of times before then to check out the people on there, letting himself be amused by some profiles but never interested enough to where he might actually consider contacting someone.
The thing was, Harry had a strict type. And, before you say anything, it was not because of Draco Malfoy, as much as it may seem. He just had an affinity for pale boys with blonde hair and grey eyes that had absolutely nothing to do with Draco Malfoy. It was just what he liked; that was all. Malfoy had absolutely nothing to do with it, he told himself again. He just randomly happened to fit that description, and there was nothing more to it.
Deep down, Harry had been hoping for someone who fit this description to suddenly appear on the scroll from the day he had gotten it. But, alas, no one had. Harry decided maybe he’d give the parchment one last quick run over for the day before he tossed it to the side and didn’t look at it for a week again.
He sighed resignedly, not expecting to see anyone much different than usual, and let his eyes glance over the scroll lazily. Redheads, brunettes, people with blood kinks, people who wanted threesomes, people who were looking for a 24/7 BDSM relationship, and people who were just plain filthy flagellators ran amok on the page before Harry’s eyes, and yet, he still couldn’t find one bloody pale blonde boy.
About to give up again, he noticed a newcomer to the newsletter whose blurb hadn’t been there the last time Harry had checked. He noticed the date underneath the person’s description as saying they had just joined Subs for Sale only a couple of hours ago. Harry decided to give this newbie a chance as the last person he looked at before ultimately throwing the scroll behind his bed where it had comfortably resided for practically all of its short life so far.
As Harry read over the paragraph, he realized finally, his efforts and patience had paid off. With every word he read, he ventured more and more towards the conclusion that this was his dream boy put into writing.
The boy’s hair? Blonde. His eye color? Grey. His skin? As white as a baby’s bottom, in the boy’s own words. His physique? Tall and slender. Extra info about him? He was a bratty submissive, someone who would talk back to their dom. Warnings? Don’t contact him if you weren’t up for a challenge.
Harry’s mouth watered as soon as his eyes finished devouring the passage before them. He felt like he had been starving for days and had just been presented with a feast of all his favorite foods right in front of him. This person was quite literally the spitting image of everything Harry wanted physically in a partner, and suddenly, Harry wasn’t so sure he was actually too afraid of using the association anymore.
Even though Harry was still experiencing trepidation over the thought of going through with this and meeting up with an actual, real-life sub, he knew he couldn’t pass this opportunity up. Who knew how much longer this person would continue to use this service? Maybe he would lose interest, or someone would snatch him up first, undeservedly stealing him away from Harry. He knew he just couldn’t allow that to happen.
He noticed the mailing address the boy had left at the bottom of his description and scurried to his desk for a piece of parchment and a quill as quickly as his feet would let him. With every second past, someone else might be feeling the exact same way he was about this person, desiring the exact same things Harry was. He had to be the first one to contact this boy.
"Hi. I saw your description and immediately was interested. Just so you know, I have black hair and green eyes myself. I wear glasses, and I am 100% ready to take you on as a challenge. In fact, I’m hard thinking about it right now. (He really was.) Either you or I can give an address to meet up at; I’m fine either way. If you’re also interested, please respond back to me as soon as possible. I won’t let anyone else have you.
- An Extremely Interested Dom"
Harry scribbled his message out as fast as his hand would let him, hoping it would at least spark some interest in the boy he was writing it to and quickly sealed it in an envelope. His hands shook with nerves and anxious excitement as he addressed the note and gave it to Hermie, letting her know to deliver it immediately. She understood as soon as he told her and flied off through the window behind her, already on her journey to her destination.
Harry sat back down on his bed, a pure bundle of anxiety at that point. He didn’t know what he would do if the boy didn’t respond. He hoped his message hadn’t been too forward; he’d wanted it to sound hot to its receiver, but he was currently doubting the appeal of every word he’d written down in his head at the moment.
Maybe the boy didn’t like black hair or green eyes. Maybe he was turned off by glasses and found them to be horrid creations. Maybe he thought Harry was desperate and found that extremely unattractive. Maybe he would just laugh at the note and throw it away without a second glance at it. Harry gulped at all the things that could go wrong. Maybe he hadn’t thought this through enough at all.
In all in his worrying, he almost didn’t even notice when Hermie had returned about half an hour later. She cooed next to him to announce her arrival before dropping a letter onto his bedsheets and swiftly returning to her nearby perch to rest after her journey. Harry shot up in his bed, letting his greedy fingers grasp the note as if it was the a mountain of gold and he had been poor for years.
He ravished it, tearing it open maniacally, as if his fingernails had been replaced with claws. He caught sight of the boy’s response through the torn remains of the envelope and snatched it up hurriedly.
He worriedly unfurled the scroll, hoping for the best but expecting the worst, and read it to himself rapidly.
"Surprisingly, your offer sounds alright. I’d be delighted to meet you up somewhere. Is the Ashwinder Club alright with you? I’ll reserve Room 12 for 5:00 PM tomorrow, if that works with you. It’ll have everything we’ll need inside of it. See you then, An Extremely Interested Dom. Not sure why your parents named you that, by the way."
Harry felt himself shaking with glee and horror at the same time without willingly meaning to. He had never imagined in his wildest dreams that one, he would ever find exactly the type of person he wanted through the business, and that two, they would ever even be interested in him, nonetheless respond to him and set up an actual meeting with him. He didn’t know whether to laugh or smile or jump for joy or just do all three at once.
Harry hurriedly wrote a short letter back telling the boy that the location and time worked with him and sent it off with Hermie again.
Thankfully, Harry was actually free tomorrow anyways due to it being the start of the weekend. He was also familiar with the club too, thank Merlin, as he had gone there many times before with friends just for drinks and messy, forgettable one-night stands. He knew it was notorious for its openness to all of its customers; rooms were provided in another area of the building that were suited for every kink imaginable. He figured Room 12 was one full of BDSM equipment, going by what the boy had said.
And then, Harry realized that he had forgotten to even find out the guy’s name. He wanted to punch himself; it was one of the most basic questions ever when you first talk to someone, and he still hadn’t remembered to ask it.
He shrugged. He’d figure it out when he actually met up with the boy the next day. He couldn’t wait to tell the owner of that name how much of a filthy whore he was too. For now though, his bed was calling his name, and he huddled himself up warmly in it, smiling widely.
Tomorrow was going to be so, so worth the wait.
:: :: ::
Okay, maybe the whole thing was worth the wait, but that sure didn’t stop Harry from almost shitting his pants with anxiety the whole rest of the next day during the time leading up to 5:00.
Harry had done BDSM stuff with plenty of other people before, although strictly only with Muggles for privacy purposes. But, the thing was, he had never felt so physically attracted to someone he was doing it with before this way. Everyone else he had been with was alright, but no one ever truly stood out like this to him. He hadn’t even met this guy in real life yet, and Harry had already jacked off and came to the thought of filling him up with his cock twice that same day.
Harry had dressed himself up in a nice, polished suit for the day, hoping to look like the human embodiment of authority, but really feeling like he looked like a child who had snuck into his father’s fancy clothing. Oh well, it wasn’t like he was meeting the boy for fashion critiques anyways.
Busying himself with anything possible around him the whole entire day, Harry breathed a sigh of relief when 4:50 finally rolled around. He had resolved to arrive at the nightclub ten minutes before their established time just so he couldn’t possibly end up missing a second of what was about to happen. And now, it was already time for him to go. Merlin, he couldn’t wait.
He let out a shaky sigh as he Apparated to Ashwinder Club, knowing he was there as soon as he felt the pulsing vibrations of the music around him in his chest. He had appeared at the dancefloor, and he realized he looked rather silly in a suit next to all the other people around him wearing almost nothing while they grinded up carelessly against each other.
His cheeks flushing, he hurried himself off the dancefloor and walked over to a nearby door that he knew would lead him to the quieter, more subdued area of the venue where the rooms were located.
He opened the door and shut it behind him, relishing in the peace and quiet he had discovered there in the much more tranquil and subdued area of the club.
He walked down the dark hallway past doors labeled with numbers on either side of him until he reached the check-in desk at the end of the corridor.
A wiry brunette woman sat behind the desk, scratching away with a quill at the scroll in front of her. She didn’t even appear to notice Harry as he told her, “I have Room 12 for 5:00.”
She looked up from her writings, seeming a bit startled, before skimming through a binder on her desk. “Yes, I have you right here. Would you mind taking a seat by the wall over there until your scheduled time?” she told him politely, offering a hurried smile at Harry.
He nodded back cordially, turning to the area she had been referring to. He noticed some modern-looking chairs against a black wall nearby and almost sat down in one of them before he noticed someone else was sitting there already, someone very strangely familiar, and Merlin, was that -
“Malfoy?” Harry called out before he could stop the name from spilling out of him. He desperately wanted to pick the word up from out of the air in front of him and plop it back into his mouth to avoid the whole situation he knew he had just let himself walk in to.
“Potter?” Malfoy responded with disbelief coloring his pale face, looking up, seemingly just as surprised as Harry was.
Harry swallowed hard as he let his eyes rake over Malfoy. He hadn’t seen him in so long since the war, and wow, did he look shockingly good. He was dressed in a tight white shirt and even tighter black jeans, and not one detail of his skin was left to the imagination. Harry was filled with an urge to strip the clothing off his body and see the skin underneath, run it through his ravenous hands. Where the fuck had that come from?
Malfoy’s hair looked just as it used to in school, so wispy and light and strikingly blonde, reminding Harry of how often he’d dreamt of pulling it in the past at Hogwarts just to make Malfoy hurt. He still felt himself filling up with the familiar impulse right then.
Malfoy’s nose was pert as usual, adding to his aristocratic aesthetic, and his lips were so pink and full and soft-looking. It looked as if someone had pasted two rose petals onto his face and forgotten to ever take them off. Harry suddenly felt the urge to take them off with his teeth.
“Didn’t expect to see you here, Potter. Wouldn’t think this place is your... cup of tea,” Malfoy smirked, crossing his arms haughtily on his chest as his shock at seeing Harry there began to evidently wear off as he returned to his normal petty insults like they were back at Hogwarts again.
“It’s not like you really expected me to remain an inexperienced virgin my whole life, right, Malfoy? And speaking of not your cup of tea, I can’t believe you don’t see a club like this as below your standards,” Harry retorted with a snort, feeling all the emotions that came with their old school rivalry burning up in his chest again as scorching steam poured out from his mouth with every word he spoke.
“Oh, of course, forgive me, Potter. How insolent of me. I forgot how you’re just so superior to all of us. I should’ve known you’d be some sex god by now. My deepest apologies,” Malfoy responded sarcastically, the flower petals on his face pulled up into an irritating, challenging grin.
And fuck, if there was someone who needed to be taught a real lesson right now by Harry, it was Malfoy. Harry wanted to shove him up against the wall right there in front of the receptionist woman and smack him and humiliate him for all the times he’d gotten himself stuck under Harry’s skin. Malfoy deserved it more than anyone.
He felt his cock twitch at the idea and hurriedly put it out of his mind. No, he didn’t want to discipline Malfoy in that way. He just was tired of him always messing with him, and that was it. Nothing more to it.
“I have to go to the loo,” Harry told Malfoy flatly, ending their conversation abruptly before walking to the other end of the hall, trying to get all the thoughts of making Malfoy pay for how much of an insufferable snob he was out of his mind.
He owed it to the guy he was meeting to not get hard because of another bloke right before they met. The other guy probably wouldn’t make Harry’s skin annoyingly feel like it was on fire like this anyways, and maybe that was a good thing.
Harry walked into the bathroom and splashed some cool water on his face, trying to abate his skin that stinged with every word Malfoy had ever spoken to him. He could’ve sworn that if he looked down at his arms right then that he’d see every insulting word Malfoy had ever used towards him etched deeply into his body permanently. He needed to forget this encounter with Malfoy as quickly as possible.
Although, he still secretly wondered why Malfoy was there at the club too. It was weird remembering Malfoy was a person with a libido and sexual interests too and not just some dusty, uptight person who had a stick up his ass whenever anything involving the topic of sex came up like Harry always thought of him as. Then, against his will, Harry’s brain suddenly filled with thoughts of actually sticking a stick up Malfoy’s ass and watching him squirm uncomfortably on it as it invaded his hole, and he smirked at the thought of that, his cock rising up again in his pants.
No, this was not how his night was going to go, he told himself exasperatedly as he willed his cock down with thoughts of Snape and the Dudleys. Malfoy was here for whatever he was here for, and Harry didn’t need to give the question of what exactly got the ever-so-stuffy Draco Malfoy going any more thought. Anyways, he had a boy in Room 12 who was perfectly ready and willing to take his cock, and he certainly wasn’t going to put off that to stay here and contemplate Malfoy’s fetishes.
Speaking of that boy, he glanced at the clock conveniently placed above the mirror in the bathroom and noticed that it was finally 5:00. All of his waiting had paid off. It was time to go meet his mystery boy, he told himself giddily.
He dried his face with some provided towels nearby and left the restroom, hardly able to contain his excitement at what he was about to walk in to.
He glanced at the chair Malfoy had been in and realized that he wasn’t there anymore. He didn’t seem to be anywhere else in the hall either. Hopefully he had left already. Maybe that was for the best too.
Harry searched up and down the rows of doors until his eyes spotted the one with the number 12 on it. He smiled to himself, let out one last sigh of contentment as he walked over to the door, and pushed it open. He walked in merrily, hardly able to contain his excitement, and let his eyes glance over the room, anxious to see his dream boy in reality, and oh, this had to be someone’s stupid idea of a sodding joke.
There, in all his dumb glory, was Malfoy, in the middle of the room, naked and on his knees with his hands tied behind his back and his mouth open and waiting to be stuffed, the perfect picture of pure, unadulterated submission.
“Malfoy?!” Harry spit out in an incredulous tone, the word oozing like poison off of his tongue.
“Potter?!” Malfoy responded in a just-as-incredulous tone, and oh, someone was pulling Harry’s leg. They just had to be.
He looked around to check for any people recording in the room, positive he was on one of those dumb hidden camera Muggle reality TV shows. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. There was just no way.
“Wh - what are you doing here? Where’s the boy I was supposed to meet here? What did you do with him?!” Harry scowled angrily, figuring this had to be some last prank Malfoy was pulling on him, some last way to mess with him. He just couldn’t leave Harry alone apparently. And oh, Harry really felt like teaching him a lesson now.
“Excuse me?! Where’s the guy I was supposed to meet here? What did you do with him?!” Malfoy asked back, the look on his face making it seem like this really wasn’t all some joke to him. Oh Merlin, maybe it actually wasn’t.
Comprehension dawned on both Harry and Malfoy at the same time, and suddenly, Harry found himself wishing this was all some elaborate scheme. Please, someone just jump out from a dark corner or something already to tell him he had been pranked.
Malfoy was the boy Harry had agreed to meet up with. It was him who Harry had been corresponding with, him who had gotten Harry so hard at just the thought of meeting up with him, him whose brains he had been wanting to fuck out for hours on end now. It was Malfoy all along.
Harry chanced a glance back at Malfoy again and from the look on his face, the same thought process Harry had had was apparently running through his head too at the same time. Malfoy looked as if he was going to faint with shock.
Harry tried to process what was going on and held his head between his hands, shaking it with disbelief. He figured if he kept his eyes focused on the ground long enough that when he finally looked back up again a different boy would be sitting there, any other boy besides Draco Malfoy. What the bloody hell were you supposed to do in a situation like this? What the bloody hell was anyone supposed to do in a situation like this?
Feeling as if he might vomit, Harry heard a voice speak up slowly, cautiously from inside the room. “Well, Potter, I know you love a good challenge. You always have been such a Gryffindor. Who says we have to stop now and let both of our nights be ruined? I bet you’ve been waiting for this night just as excitedly as I have. It’s not like we can use this as blackmail against each other with all the confidentiality charms put on us anyways,” Malfoy sneered. Harry was very aware of the fact that Malfoy was still on his knees with his hands back behind him.
“We - we can’t. It’d be wrong. We can’t.” Harry stated, trying to sound disgusted with the idea, but his cock was already growing hard in his trousers, betraying him. A chance to finally show Malfoy who was boss and do everything he had wanted to do to him for years, and Malfoy wanted him to? Even got off on it? This was like something from a wet dream come to life.
Harry suddenly realized all at once that it had been Malfoy all along anyways. It was Harry’s fault that he was only attracted to boys who looked just like Malfoy, and the whole reason behind it was that he plainly just wanted Malfoy himself. He had been wanting this deep down ever since he had met the boy.
He felt embarrassment begin to wash over him as he realized that Malfoy must know this by now as why would Harry agree to meet up with a guy whose description sounded just like him?
But, wait a second, didn’t that mean Malfoy had in turn also agreed to meet up with a guy who looked just like Harry? Sure, he wasn’t the only guy out there with black hair, green eyes, and glasses, but if Malfoy hated him as much as he seemed to, surely he wouldn’t have been interested in a guy whose description sounded just like Harry? Surely the idea would’ve disgusted him, and he would’ve never agreed to meet up with him?
“C’mon, Potter. Haven’t you wanted to do this to me for a while now? Show me how much of a superior sex god you’ve become, why don’t you. Discipline me as much as you think is necessary for all the shit I’ve put you through. Make me ache,” Malfoy purred out again, letting his voice drawl and linger on the last word, his eyes glazed over and blown all of a sudden.
Harry lifted his head to finally look at Malfoy again, and fuck, he was still sitting there completely clothless and vulnerable, his position just practically making Harry need to use him. His nudity starkly reminded Harry of how fully clothed he personally was, and he loved the humiliation in that. Malfoy was bared completely for Harry’s viewing pleasure while Harry wasn’t exposed at all. He didn’t bother to hide his lust as he let his eyes rake up and down Malfoy’s body, taking all of him in.
Never-ending expanses of pale skin waiting to be reddened and hit and marked and owned met Harry’s eyes, and he gulped. Malfoy was there, ready for Harry’s handling, completely exposed and defenseless. Harry should really feel bad about wanting to take advantage of him, but he really didn’t.
Pink, hard nipples stood out from Malfoy’s slender chest begging to be bitten and just a hint of muscle was apparent on his torso. His cock was already quite obviously achingly hard, standing up against his stomach, the head of it red with a small bit of precome leaking out. He really did want this. His legs were bent in half from the position he was sitting in, and his thighs looked plump and ready for Harry’s touch, all milky and soft. Harry’s mouth watered.
“C’mon, Potter,” Malfoy repeated. “Look how much I want this. I need it. I’ve been waiting in here for you for what seems like forever. You’re really disappointing me, you know? I always knew deep down you’d cower in a situation like this. Too bad I ended up coming here for nothing. I needed a real man to dominate me, and I guess you’re just not strong enough to take me on, are you? Such a let down, but I can’t even say I’m surprised, can I? Merlin, you even put on a suit for me, didn’t you? What failed potential,” he continued on, pouting sarcastically and snickering underneath his breath.
And oh, Harry definitely wasn’t going to let him get away with saying that. Filled with a need to discipline and assert dominance, he resolved to show Malfoy just how much of a man he was and that the last thing he would do is hide like a coward in a situation like this; he’d run towards it joyously. He was going to leave Malfoy whimpering and wrecked if it was the last thing he ever did.
“You can’t even really speak yourself,” Harry finally spoke up, his eyes darkening as he walked over to Malfoy and wrenched a hand in his blonde locks of hair, pulling his head up so he was forced to look at him, finally touching the boy. Malfoy hummed satisfiedly at the physical contact.
“Should’ve known you’d end up like this, on your knees begging to be hurt and filled with cock, just like the little slut you are. Like you always have been. God, I can’t believe it took this long for me to get you like this,” Harry said, smacking Malfoy’s face hard when he finished talking. His skin pinkened where Harry’s hand had been, and Harry liked the sight of that so much that he smacked him again. Little git deserved it.
“There’s the Potter I knew there was. You’re so wrong, you know, wanting me like this, taking advantage of me at my most vulnerable point,” Malfoy said breathlessly.
“Says the one who’s getting hard from me hitting their pretty little face,” Harry responded, laying another smack down on Malfoy. The skin glared hotly there now, burning and red. Harry smirked at his work. Little did Malfoy know this was just the beginning of what he was planning on doing to him.
“What’s next, Potter? Making me pay for beating you at Quidditch? For embarrassing you in front of your little friends? For constantly messing with you? Punish me like I deserve for all the horrible things I’ve done to you. Do whatever you see fit. Make me repent,” Malfoy told Harry, and if he was going to beg for it like that, then Harry definitely was going to.
“You know what? Maybe I will, huh? Come here,” Harry let out roughly as he pulled Malfoy by his hair to a couch in the room behind them. Malfoy followed on his knees behind Harry, having to crawl to keep up, and Harry didn’t even care anymore that he loved that.
Harry sat down on the couch and Malfoy went up to splay himself on Harry’s lap before Harry smacked his other cheek that he hadn’t laid a hand on so far. “Ah, ah, ah, not yet. Can’t wait to get your ass spanked by me, can you? You’re so bloody filthy.”
“What are we going to do instead? Talk about our feelings then?” Malfoy asked him sarcastically, earning himself another smack. His skin was so delightfully flushed now, and it was all because of Harry’s hands. He loved that.
“Lick my shoes first. Show me what that mouth can do when it’s not being a sodding snob,” Harry told Malfoy haughtily, noticing the boy’s lips curl up in contempt at the thought.
It was such a degrading act, and Harry felt himself growing more and more aroused at the thought of it. He wanted Malfoy to feel like scum on the bottom of his shoe that existed only to please him, and what better way to do that than make him lick his shoes themselves?
“My pleasure. Let me show you what my mouth can do when it’s not being a sodding snob,” Malfoy responded in his special Malfoy way again, leering a bit, but sounding more serious than before this time.
He opened his mouth wide while looking straight up at Harry, letting him see everything inside, before leaning down and putting his tongue on Harry’s boots. Harry was suddenly glad he had dressed so fancily for the occasion.
“Ass up, whore,” Harry told him before bringing a hand down to smack the very ass he had been talking about.
Malfoy shuddered from the touch and, not saying anything this time, immediately arched his back up and displayed his arse in the air sluttily so Harry could see all of it, and oh wow, Harry really liked having Malfoy do whatever he said so much more than he thought he would’ve. He was going to have so much fun with this. He wished he could see behind Malfoy too so he could watch the boy’s pretty asshole pucker with arousal like he knew it was just from simply using his tongue on Harry’s footwear.
Harry watched Malfoy run his tongue up and down his boot, and he wondered how the leather tasted in the boy’s mouth. Then, he began to wonder how his actual skin would taste in Malfoy’s mouth. He decided Malfoy just licking his shoe wasn’t going to cut it actually. “You know what, why don’t I really enjoy myself? Take my boot off and lick my foot itself.”
“Anything you want. I’ll make sure to use my tongue as best as I can to get your foot off,” Malfoy told him, almost sounding as if he was mocking the fact that Harry wanted his mouth on that part of his body first instead of on his cock. Harry would have disciplined him for that, but he figured the fact that Malfoy was bringing his hands to Harry’s shoe and slipping it off for him was already humiliating enough. He did the same to Harry’s other foot until Harry was barefoot in front of him.
Anyways, whatever Malfoy said didn’t matter. In the end, he was going to bend to Harry’s will willingly either way, snarky comments involved or not.
He laid his tongue out on Harry’s foot again, and this was so much better; Harry could feel every movement Malfoy made with his mouth on his skin this way. Malfoy peppered each of his toes on both of his feet with small kisses, taking them into his mouth one by one and sucking softly, giving Harry a taste of what would be coming next soon. Harry let his head fall back in pleasure as his foot was met with the warm touch of Malfoy’s tongue.
“Tell me how much you love putting your mouth on my feet,” Harry growled out, loving the way Malfoy worked his mouth so expertly on him.
“I adore running my mouth over your feet. It’s an honor that you’d let me do this,” Malfoy said, flashing Harry a bittersweet smile before returning his attention back downwards. Harry could see right through his little derisive facade, could tell just how deep down he actually meant every word he said.
Harry moved his foot to point upwards, exposing the bottom of it to Malfoy. “Lick there, too. You think I’m gonna let you half-ass this?”
“Of course not. I’d never half-ass anything I did for you. I’m a bloody Malfoy, Potter,” he responded before sticking his long tongue out again to lick lazy, thick lines up Harry’s plantar. It was fun to watch Malfoy growing more and more aroused and trying to hide it as every hitch of his breath told Harry otherwise.
He let his tongue dip into every fold and wrinkle of the coarse skin there, never pausing for a second to pull back in disgust. He was disciplined well, Harry observed. The perfect boy to have as your sex slave. He wondered how he had never noticed this before.
“Stick your tongue out and leave it there until I tell you to put it back in,” Harry told him arrogantly as he lazily put both of his arms around the back of the couch, the picture of languid indulgence.
Malfoy huffed a bit in indignation, although his cock was visibly hardening against his stomach again, and paused in his movements, leaving his tongue stretched out and still on a spot towards the top of Harry’s foot. Hot breaths of air trickled out of his mouth, warming Harry’s foot. Spit began to pool at the area, and Harry smirked to himself at the satisfying, wet feeling of it.
After a while, drool began to spill out of the sides of Malfoy’s mouth, and he let out an embarrassingly high-pitched whimper sound from the back of his throat, letting Harry know he was nearing his limit. He looked delicious with his own spit pouring out of his mouth while he could do nothing to stop it and do nothing to regain his dignity. Harry wanted to fuck his face so badly already.
“You can put it back in now,” Harry ordered him finally, his desires to see Malfoy squirming at his feet fully satisfied now.
“May I finally sit on your lap now? I think we can both agree I’ve waited long enough. I want to have the shit spanked out of me already, if that’s alright with you,” Malfoy told Harry with a coy grin, and Harry wanted to spank the shit out of him already too, admittedly.
“Fine. Lay yourself down on my lap to where that pretty ass of yours is just over the end of my leg,” Harry instructed him.
“Oh, thank Merlin,” Malfoy told him, glowing a bit at his arse being called pretty by Harry, before getting up and positioning himself over Harry’s lap just like Harry had wanted him to, leaving his ass exposed in front of Harry’s eyes. His cock was squished between his stomach and Harry’s legs, and Harry could feel it pulse greedily against his leg.
“You better not come just yet, Malfoy. Wouldn’t wanna do that and be a bad boy for me now, would you? You’ve been so good so far, and we haven’t even gotten to the really fun parts yet. You wouldn’t wanna disappoint me like that, right?” Harry questioned him, running an endearing, foreshadowing hand over one of Malfoy’s arse cheeks.
“Oh, I wouldn’t ever even dream of that,” Malfoy replied, his words still seemingly mocking and drawling. He was going to beat that attitude out of him.
Harry swiftly laid a hard hand down on Malfoy’s arse, relishing in how the skin immediately reacted to his rough touch. He watched as a glaring pink outline of where his hand had been arose on Malfoy’s glowing white skin. “Feel that? That’s what I’ve been wanting to do to you for years now. You’re finally getting what you deserve.”
“It’s what I’ve - ah - been wanting you to do to me for years now. Please make me pay for being such a git to you all the time, Potter. I deserve it so much,” Malfoy let out as Harry smacked his arse again.
Harry ran another hand through Malfoy’s blonde strands of hair and pulled his head up again. “That’s what I thought. You’ve just always needed a man to come and control you all along, haven’t you? Reprimand you for that filthy, talkative mouth.”
He smacked Malfoy’s other asscheek now, watching it burn as red as the other one had. The skin seared under his touch, and his hand prickled with the warmth of smacking someone, leaving his mark on another person. A fire kindled in his stomach, and all he could feel was heat, heat, heat all around him.
“Yes, Potter. Always needed a man just like you. Always needed you,” Malfoy responded in a discordant tone, trying to control his panting breathing to speak in a normal voice and failing miserably.
Harry took both his hands now and smacked each of Malfoy’s arsecheeks. He ran his palms across the hot skin, soothing the pain he had just caused. “Merlin, if I’d known you’d be such a willing slut like this sooner, I’d have done this years ago.”
“Surprised you never figured it out before, Potter. Must’ve been that Gryffindor brain of yours. I thought I was being quite bloody obvious with you. Why’d you think I always messed with you in school? Always tried to get a rise out of you? Did you really think it was pointless bullying? Because I was bored or something and had nothing better to do? I just wanted you to finally put me in my place and shut me up,” Malfoy admitted to him, his cock jumping a bit against Harry’s leg as Harry roughly smacked his arse again.
“Fuck, Malfoy. You have no fucking idea how much I would’ve jumped at the chance to do that. No fucking idea,” Harry replied, his cock shamelessly hardening in his tight pants. He was beginning to regret wearing such a constricting suit. He wondered if Malfoy could feel his own painfully hard cock against his side. He hoped he could.
Malfoy hummed as Harry smacked him again and continued to hold his head up aggressively by his hair. Draco was in pure bliss. This was what he had been wanting for forever, needing for forever. Someone to discipline him, to remind him of how he should act. And the fact that it was Potter doing all of this to him made the raw humiliation of the whole situation so much more intense than it would’ve been if he was doing this with anyone else.
His current circumstances were so delicious that his mouth almost watered, Draco thought as Harry brought another firm hand down to smack his waiting arse. He wondered how many people would’ve loved to be in his place with Potter right now, and grinned at the fact that he knew no one could truly affect Potter like this, get him worked up like Malfoy always had and always would.
“You know what, Malfoy? I think you need something stronger. Something to really make you remember this encounter. I want you to be able to look in the mirror at your arse a week from now and recall all of this. I think you need to be paddled by me,” Harry said.
“Oh, Merlin yeah, please paddle me. I want to show you how much of a good beating I can take. Make me feel the pain for days straight,” Malfoy responded, a smile growing on his face at the painful treat he was in for.
Harry reached for the paddle that he had noticed was conveniently situated on the side table next to the couch they were on and marveled at the power he felt course through his veins as soon as he picked it up. He held Malfoy’s pride, dignity, and pleasure in his hands all at once, and it was a bloody good feeling to be in control of all of that for once.
“You done admiring that thing or what? Just use it on me alread -” Malfoy began before a loud thwack sound echoed throughout the room and Malfoy’s steady, confident tone of voice shriveled down into a pathetic, pitiful squeak. Harry had brought down the paddle hard against the crack of his bum, hitting the edges of both of his asscheeks at once.
“Hm? What was that, Malfoy? Want to tell me how to do my job again? Think you know better than me?” Harry growled out as Malfoy’s arse reddened again under his greedy gaze.
“No, no, I’m sorry. Please don’t stop hitting me. I want to feel you so, so badly,” Malfoy eeked out, a lot more timid now than he had just been only a few seconds ago. Harry smirked at the fact that the more he allowed himself to placate Malfoy’s kink, the more Malfoy would become a shameless, right painslut. With every hit Harry gave him, more and more of the boy’s ego would gradually ebb away.
“That’s what I thought,” Harry responded, his tone unwavering and steady, a stark contrast to Malfoy’s own. It was beautiful how much their roles had shifted since their time at Hogwarts. Now Malfoy was at Harry’s feet begging for his attention instead of pretending he wouldn’t even give him the time of day if he happened to ask for it. There was something so delectably right about all of it. Harry decided right then and there that he rather liked this new, foreign Malfoy who ached for his regulation so desperately.
“How about you count out the hits for me? Think you can manage that, or is it just too much for your little mind to handle right now?” Harry asked Malfoy, intending for the question to come out in a somewhat endearing way, but knowing that deep down both he and Malfoy understood what he was truly saying behind his outwardly sweet words.
It was a challenge, albeit one much different from those the pair were usually confronted with. A challenge to see if Malfoy could truly still submit to Harry even while he was getting the bloody hell spanked out of his arse. And if there was anything both boys could agree on, it was the loving of a good competition.
“My brain isn’t mush like yours, Potter. I can still -” Thwack. Harry had laid a smack on his thigh, sparking flames on the area of Malfoy’s skin that had been hit. Malfoy was especially sensitive there, and the stinging he felt from the blow overpowered his mind. Maybe his brain was just a little bit mush when it came to Potter. Just a little bit. “Count,” he finished weakly, panting now.
“If you can count, how come you didn’t just call out that first hit? Guess that means we’ll have to start over,” Harry said in a bittersweet tone, smirking to himself.
“I’m sorry, it was my mistake. I’ll do better this time, I promise,” Malfoy replied in a submissive tone, no sarcasm in his voice. It had all disappeared when Harry had laid that hit on him, just as it should have.
“Good boy, Malfoy. Try again for me. I know you can be so good this time, right?” Harry told him, pulling his head up again, the motion telling Malfoy to nod in acknowledgement.
He did so, as best as he could against Harry’s inescapable, secure grip. “I’ll be perfect for you,” he responded, truly meaning it.
“I know you will be. Always the Slytherin way to excell at everything, even while having your pretty arse abused,” Harry retorted, letting Malfoy’s head fall back down against the couch roughly. He was lying on his cheek now, one side of his flushed face perfectly exposed for Harry’s voyeuristic pleasure. His eyes were completely glazed over, and they looked like a cloudy night sky that sported silver full moons. Damp hair was matted to his forehead from his own sweat, and Harry realized he looked bloody gorgeous like this.
“Spread your legs for me,” Harry instructed, intending to hit Draco in even more sensitive spots than he had before.
Malfoy complied as soon as Harry had let out the words. It wasn’t his fault his self-control turned to pure mute whenever Potter barked out an order at him. He moved his long, slender legs apart to expose his puckering, pink hole and his bollocks, which extended down far enough to where they rested gingerly on the velvet fabric of the couch, but didn’t quite fully touch it. They were just as pink as his hole.
Harry ran a foretelling hand down from Malfoy’s arsehole to his bollocks, cupping them in his hand. “They’re so pretty. I can’t wait to ruin that and get them all bruised up. We’ll see how pretty they still are when I’m finished with you.” Pretty was starting to be his favorite adjective to use to describe any part of Malfoy.
Malfoy whined at the promise of Harry’s words, feeling the urge rush through him to buck his hips up, but he controlled his impulses and remained perfectly still. He couldn’t wait for whatever Harry decided to do to him next.
“Let’s get started then, shall we? You can show me that you’re not completely useless and you actually do know how to count this time,” Harry laughed harshly with a sneer painted on his face. Malfoy loved the thought that this was just a pastime for Harry, that he wasn’t as invested in it as Malfoy shamelessly was, that he was just using Draco’s body and taking advantage of his desires just for nonchalant fun. Although he also knew that wasn’t the truth at all.
Thwack. “One,” Malfoy gasped out as he saw stars from the intensity of the pain he felt. Harry had smacked him with the paddle right against his bollocks, preying on the extreme sensitivity of them. Smart bugger, knowing how much Draco would love that, Malfoy thought as arousal pooled in his pelvis.
“Look, everyone, he does know his numbers,” Harry muttered out in a facetious tone. Malfoy’s cock twitched at the thought of this happening in front of the imaginary crowd Harry had addressed, all of them watching Potter tame the ever-so-bratty Malfoy and break him down into a whimpering mess.
Harry smacked his bollocks again, delightful at how even they seemed to redden up in their own silent, subdued way. “Two,” Malfoy whined. Harry sneaked a glance at his face and saw his eyes were scrunched up in pure debauchery and his mouth was open, letting out hot pants of air. Harry had never wanted to stuff his cock in the warm heat of Malfoy’s mouth more than he did right then.
Harry smacked his bollocks three more times in a row quickly then, barely giving Malfoy a chance to announce, “Three, four, five.” He noticed a wetness on his thigh and realized it was Malfoy’s precome leaking out of his ever-hard cock. Merlin, Malfoy really did like all of this.
“And we can’t leave your arsehole out of the fun too, can we?” Harry snickered as he brought the paddle back down onto a just as equally sensitive, if not more sensitive area of Malfoy’s body. He watched as Malfoy’s rosy lips moved up into a whimper before he stuttered out the quick word, “S - six.”
Harry watched as Malfoy’s hole clenched and unclenched as it waited for its next strike. It was so satisfying to see his old school bully at his mercy for once.
Harry smacked Malfoy’s arsehole again three times quickly, Malfoy jumping and panting with each hit. “Seven, eight, nine,” he counted.
“Let’s give you one last treat, yeah? One last blow you’ll remember,” Harry smirked, running a taunting hand over Malfoy’s arse. It was so red at this point it looked like someone had spilled a can of crimson paint all over his skin there. He had no clue how Malfoy was going to walk around tomorrow, nonetheless sit down. Perfect.
Harry pulled his arm back high and held it there for a bit, wanting to watch Malfoy squirm and whimper in anticipation. When he had deemed Malfoy’s high, begging whines gratifying enough, he brought the paddle down harder than he had ever brought it down before, landing a perfectly placed hit over Malfoy’s arsehole, arse, and bollocks all at once. Malfoy’s whole body jerked forward, and Harry watched as a tear fell down his elegant face as he weakly sobbed out, “Ten.”
Harry’s coarse hand returned to Malfoy’s skin, soothing all the aching pain he had just engendered in the boy. “So good, Malfoy. You’ve been so good for me.”
“I told you so,” Malfoy replied, tasting the salty tang of his own tear in his mouth. Harry almost genuinely laughed at Malfoy still trying to one-up him after everything he had just done to him.
“I think you’ve earned yourself a right flogging, haven’t you? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Harry praised him, noticing Malfoy’s flushed face brighten up a bit at the thought.
“Please, Merlin, I need a flogging. Please, Potter,” Malfoy whimpered out, his mouth wetted by his tears.
“We’ll get you all tied up then. C’mon, on your knees,” Harry said, nudging Malfoy off of his lap and onto the floor again. He smirked to himself about how sore Malfoy’s knees would be from all the crawling he had done since he had entered the room.
Harry led him over to some shackles on a nearby wall, and Malfoy followed on all fours. “Up. Get yourself situated, and I’ll bind you. I want you facing me, so I can see your face while I hit you.”
Malfoy stood up, his arse beautifully red from all the spanking Harry had given him. Harry noticed his bound wrists and untied them just so he could be bound again moments later in a different way. Malfoy turned around and lifted his arms out towards the shackles. He looked like Jesus on the cross, crucified, but much, much sexier. If Jesus looked like this, he figured everyone would become a Christian.
Harry moved forward, watching Malfoy’s face as he brought both of the boy’s hands and feet over to their corresponding shackles. He latched all of his extremities in, then moved back again to look over his handiwork. Malfoy had some moving room, but couldn’t get out even if he wanted to, not without Harry to do it for him. Just like Harry had wanted.
“You look perfect like that, so innocent and pure. I’m gonna stomp all over that and wreck the shit out of you,” Harry smirked. He noticed Malfoy’s hard, outstretched cock twitch in the air at the thought.
Harry reached up and picked up a flogger that was up on the wall above Malfoy’s head, closing the distance between them to where their chests were touching. Malfoy’s breath hitched at the invasion of his personal space.
Harry pulled back about two feet and started to lightly hit the flogger against his hand, the sound of its hits echoing around the room. Malfoy’s body flinched in anticipation.
Harry, testing the power of the tool, tried a small smack to Malfoy’s forearm. The tendrils of the flogger reached out, grasping Malfoy’s skin just like Harry’s fingers would’ve if they were the ones hitting him.
“What’s this shit, Potter? I thought Auror training was supposed to make you all strong and ripped,” Malfoy smirked, his previous snarkiness returning as if he hadn’t just been whimpering and crying like a baby on Harry’s lap only minutes ago. Harry was beginning to realize he only acted so snootily so that Harry would get angry and hurt him even more to prove himself. He didn’t want to admit to himself how much it worked.
Harry laid a hard smack down on Draco’s slim stomach, marveling at how quickly the skin there perked up and colored. “Did you say something?” Harry asked with an arrogant smile on his face. His grin was so bright and cheerful, as if he was in a flowery field with the sun filtering over his body and not in a sex dungeon holding a bloody flogger in his hand, about to hit someone and get off on it too.
“I’m not convinced,” Draco lied. “Aren’t you this big, strong man now? I’m disappointed. Guess you’re still that weak little boy from grade school.”
Harry’s body flared up. He was combusting in the middle of the room again at Malfoy’s words. It was a scary realization knowing no one else could ever even dream of getting a reaction like this out of him.
Falling right into Malfoy’s trap to prove himself, Harry hit him hard five times on his leaking cock, not giving him or his genitals a chance to breathe. He came up closer to Malfoy and laid a possessive hand on his side, gripping the skin there so hard he felt it bunch up against his own skin. He laid another smack on Malfoy’s chest, hitting one of his hard nipples. It was obvious Malfoy was trying to appear unamused, but the soft pants coming from his mouth and his moving cock told Harry otherwise.
He waited for Malfoy to say something, and when he didn’t, Harry laid a smack on his ass behind him with his own hand as he flogged the boy’s other nipple with his other hand. Finally, breaking his failing guard of indifference, Draco rewarded Harry with a high-pitched whimper.
“You really wanna test my patience again, Malfoy?” Harry growled out, biting at Malfoy’s neck after he finished his words. He sucked the soft skin there into his mouth before running it through his teeth roughly. When he pulled back, he could see the clear, burning outline of where his teeth had been etched into Malfoy’s skin.
“If it means getting you to hit me like that again, then hell yes, I do,” Malfoy let out breathlessly. Harry smiled secretly against Malfoy’s chest.
“You’re fucking filthy, you know that?” Harry asked him as he dragged his mouth across Malfoy’s chest to where his nipples resided on his chest, bringing down a smack on Malfoy’s side with the flogger as he did so.
“Completely filthy for you. Only this filthy for you,” Malfoy replied vulnerably as Harry let his tongue grace against the perkiness of the boy’s nipples. He licked circles around the sensitive area before bringing it into his mouth. He sucked it softly at first before biting down hard and not letting go until Malfoy rewarded him with another whimper.
He felt so special getting Malfoy to let him use him so shamelessly like this. So lucky to have Malfoy even want to let him do this to him. Whether you liked Malfoy or not, no one could argue about the fact that the boy was hauntingly beautiful, the type of beautiful that lingers in your mind for weeks. Harry felt like a giddy child in a candy shop with Malfoy submitting to him like this like pliable putty in his hands. He could do anything he pleased with the boy, and Malfoy would gladly let him. The power that came with knowing that gave him such a rush that he thought he might pass out with the intensity of it.
Harry moved his mouth to start sucking on the other nipple as he brought down the flogger on Malfoy’s other, now-swollen nipple. “Guess you really are some superior sex god now,” Malfoy muttered underneath his breath between his whines. Harry wasn’t even sure Malfoy was joking at this point.
Harry brought a hand down to palm at his achingly-hard cock which was currently pressed up against the fabric of his jeans to try to give himself some relief. Draco looked like he was about to come himself just from all the pain Harry had so generously given him.
Harry began to flog Malfoy’s cock hard again, swinging his arm in a figure eight motion, not giving the boy a moment to rest. Hit, hit, hit. The slap sounds echoed beautifully around the large room. It was so intense, just the two of them in here like this, giving in to their most despicable instincts with each other of all people. Maybe it was exactly that that made this whole thing so undeniably hot.
“You’re a right slut, aren’t you?” Harry questioned Malfoy with a playful sneer on his lips, watching Malfoy shudder with each hit he received and then immediately arch his back to present his body towards Harry again, needing blow after blow after blow more than he needed air to breathe.
“You have no idea. No idea how much I fingered my arse open during school at night and even still now to the thought of you doing this to me, leaving me a mess like this. No idea,” Draco breathed, letting every word linger on his tongue, dirtying them before they left his mouth to where everything he said was utterly sensual.
Harry hummed amusedly at the thought of a 16-year-old Draco Malfoy in his Slytherin bed at night underneath his covers getting him and his asshole off to the thought of Harry dominating him, little pants leaving his open, gaping mouth. He could practically hear the boy’s faint moans of “Harry, Harry, Harry…” in his mind. The thought was like a feast for his brain; it was so delicious.
“Fuck, Malfoy, you’re such a fucking whore. Merlin, I’d wish you’d told me sooner,” Harry replied, almost just as breathless due to his own arousal as the boy he was still whipping was.
Hot pants fell out of both of their mouths now, and it was like they were both encapsulated in their own little bubble of the world right then. Nothing mattered for Harry in that moment right then other than the fact that he had Draco Malfoy chained up in front of him, willingly bracing himself for the next hit Harry would dote on him and liking the whole thing.
Harry laid one last hit against Malfoy’s painfully hard cock before setting the flogger down and picking up a collar with a leash attached to it that had also laid on the table where he had gotten the paddle from earlier.
He walked up to the boy again, the space between them nonexistent as Harry suddenly became aware of his still-very-clothed chest pressed snugly up against Malfoy’s own still-very-naked one. Harry could feel the warmth of Malfoy’s heaving and hot body against his as if he was shirtless too.
“This will be fun, won’t it?” Harry asked as he brought the studded collar around the boy’s neck and clasped it around the nape of Malfoy’s back, leaving it on its tightest setting. He saw how Malfoy’s skin bunched up around where the collar was and slightly reddened.
“So, so much fun,” Malfoy smiled back as Harry slightly pulled the chain leash he had in his hand and jerked Malfoy’s head toward his. He leaned in to kiss him for the first time that night, and just that was almost more erotic than anything else they’d done so far.
It was messy, but not rushed. It was passionate, but not romantic. It was pure lust, Harry observed in his head as he completely invaded Malfoy’s mouth with his tongue as he sucked the boy’s soft bottom lip into his mouth. He swept his tongue around the inside of Malfoy’s mouth, feeling the warm sides of it and the sharp points of his canine teeth as Malfoy’s tongue lay dormant, letting his mouth be dominated and used.
Harry pulled back after he had gotten his fill of Malfoy’s mouth. Thin ropes of spit connected their two mouths, almost begging them to kiss again. Harry almost would’ve if he wasn’t so ready for what he was planning on doing next.
“Let’s get you down now, eh? I’m gonna give you a treat,” he told Malfoy, unlatching the shackles he was in to let the boy down.
Malfoy immediately fell to his knees, and Harry wasn’t sure if it was because the blows had withered his bodily strength down, because his cock was too hard for him to even walk, or because he knew Harry would want him crawling on his knees. Harry would’ve gladly taken any of those three options as an explanation.
And then an even more delicious thought crossed his mind - maybe it was because of all three reasons. His cock twitched again for the millionth time in his constricting pants. He moved a hand down again to readjust his lower region and let out a low groan at the touch.
Malfoy’s wrists and ankles shined a bright red along with his arse, thighs, chest, throat, and cock, and fuck, Harry was almost about to come right then and there. Harry had completely owned this boy, left his mark all over him, showed him who he really belonged to. And if Draco didn’t already know that he belonged to Harry, Harry wasn’t going to let him leave tonight until he did.
Harry pulled Malfoy along by the leash in his hand, and Malfoy followed on his hands and knees. “Could’ve you made this thing any tighter?” He muttered under his breath uncomfortably.
“I think would you have wanted it any less tighter is the real question we should be asking ourselves,” Harry responded, seeing right through Draco’s little ploy. There was no denying he loved all of this unashamedly at this point, no matter what his words seemed to say, and both of them knew it.
“Fair point,” Malfoy admitted as his hard cock bobbed between his legs, dripping a plethora of precome, as he followed after Harry.
Harry stopped against one of the walls in the room and laid his back against it. He let out a content sigh, in his own little universe of sexual bliss, before suddenly bringing up Malfoy by the collar roughly. Draco’s skin scratched against the leather and grew irritated, but he liked it.
Harry kept the boy taut right by his crotch and held his head down to where it was pressed up against right where the bulge in his pants was. No words needed to be said to explain what he wanted.
“Finally come to your senses, then? Nice choice deciding to use my mouth for your cock and not your feet this time,” Malfoy said as he lifted his light eyes up to look at Harry. His mouth moved around Harry’s cock through the clothing without Harry even having to tell him to do so. He was so obscene, and Harry still couldn’t believe that it was him, Harry Potter, Malfoy was letting him see like this, at his most open and lewd point.
He pressed Malfoy’s head down harder to where his little usually pert nose was flattened against Harry’s pelvis. “Mouth at it,” Harry ordered Malfoy, watching pleasantly as he struggled to keep his mouth open and his tongue moving as his face was so close to Harry’s body. But, of course, since he was Malfoy, he figured out a way to do it. Harry watched his pink tongue edge out again like it had on his feet, licking everywhere it could reach, hungry and greedy.
“Undo my zipper with your teeth if you’re so eager,” Harry instructed him, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He released Draco’s head just a bit to where he had enough room to reach Harry’s zipper. His nose was red from how long it had been pressed up against Harry’s cock.
Draco opened his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out and leaning his head back a bit to tease Harry by showing him what he was about to get. It worked so well, Harry realized, as he couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to let his prick push in through those soft lips and fuck, fuck, fuck his face until they were both spent from exhaustion.
Malfoy brought his mouth to the zipper of Harry’s jeans and bit around the part of it that one pulls down and clenched his bright teeth around it tightly. Never losing his grip, he slowly began to move the zipper downwards, his head moving down along with it. When he was done, a small sliver of Harry’s white boxers shone through the opening in his dark jeans.
“Use your hands to pull my jeans down,” he commanded Malfoy. The boy responded quickly, bringing his delicate hands out from behind his back to pull at Harry’s pants and boxers, pulling them down at the same time and finally releasing Harry’s restless cock from its suffocating prison. It immediately went up to hit his stomach, and Harry let out a deep sigh of relief.
Malfoy’s mouth watered at the long, hard length of Harry’s shaft being presented in front of him. It was bright red and leaking precome too, and it was obvious that he was enjoying this as much as Malfoy was, albeit just simply hiding it better. He looked so ready to touch and run his mouth all over it, but he kept his hands behind his back again, knowing he should wait to be told to first if he wanted to be rewarded with a fucking at the end.
“Of course Harry Potter has to be well-endowed with a monster cock too. How did I already know that’d be the case?” Draco remarked cheekily, feigning a roll of his eyes as if he couldn’t be bothered with the enticing sight of Harry in front of him when deep down, all he could think about was when he could finally put his mouth on Harry’s dick.
Harry smacked his mouth, and almost as if he could read Draco’s mind, he responded with, “Don’t play like you can’t wait to suck me off, you fucking whore. You’re like an open book to me, you know.” Well, Draco thought, he wasn’t wrong.
“Oh, look, he’s a master of Legilimency too, isn’t he,” Malfoy replied, sticking his tongue into his cheek and making it probe the side of his mouth suggestively. He hoped it’d remind Harry of where his cock could be soon if he played his cards right.
Apparently it did. “Keep your hands behind my back and suck me off,” Harry directed Malfoy. He wanted to watch the boy have to use only his mouth to get him off, pushing his head out further and further to have to reach down the length of his shaft.
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Draco said, any hint of joking having left his voice. He moved his mouth to the head of Harry’s cock and gently kissed it and gave it small, light licks, taking all of the man’s salty precome into his mouth greedily. He was teasing Harry, trying to get a rise out of him yet again.
“What are you, a kitten now? You got me all worked up for nothing now,” Harry let out, sighing loudly in exasperation. “Guess I have to be rough with you to get you to cooperate, don’t I? Too bad that’s more of a reward for you than a punishment.”
Draco practically purred at Harry’s words before his head was pushed coarsely down Harry’s cock by Harry’s hands, which were practically bigger than his head. He loved being roughed up like this, being used for another man’s pleasure, his mouth being invading by someone else just to get off, his own comfort discarded and left on the side to rot. The fact that it was Harry Potter fulfilling this deep need in him just made the whole thing even more pleasant. The humiliation was tantalizingly sweet in his mouth.
Harry let him go, and Draco kept his head where Harry had pushed it to, gagging a bit in the back of his throat. He felt Harry’s cock harden at the sound and smiled. Draco pulled his mouth off, and before Harry could tell him to put it back on, he had already moved his head all the way down Harry’s cock, only a few inches evading him from taking it all in.
“Put your nose to my pubes. Or do I need to make you again?” Harry asked with a coy grin on his face. Draco wasn’t sure he didn’t not want Harry to push him down again, but he also wanted to show Harry how good he was.
He moved his mouth down more, ignoring the way his throat protested against his movements. He dealt with the burn and pushed down even more, testing his limits; he had never taken a cock this big in his mouth before. His nose gingerly brushed Harry’s dark pubes, and he choked in his throat. His instincts made him want to pull himself up, but the possessive hand Harry had placed on his head and his own resilience at proving his worth kept him down.
When he finally pulled back, he sputtered and coughed, thankful for the quick reprieve of air in his lungs. It wasn’t long before he’d be begging for that same oxygen again. Spit fell out of the sides of his mouth, and his lips were sporting a swollen, red look.
“So good, Draco. So fucking good,” Harry muttered, his head laid back against the wall in lethargic debauchery. Draco smiled to himself at Harry’s switch of calling him by his last name to his given name. His deepthroating skills really must have been that good.
Malfoy moved his mouth back to Harry to take in the head of his prick, and this sparked something in Harry. He had been purely stationary since this had started, resisting the urges to buck his hips up into Malfoy’s warm heat. But he wasn’t going to stop himself anymore.
Malfoy made a little muffled squeal in his throat as Harry began to thrust into his mouth, pushing his cock further into Draco. The boy became playdough in his grip, looking, wide-eyed, straight up into Harry’s dark eyes as all fight left his body. His mouth was just a pliable, warm hole for Harry to fuck the shit out of tonight, and he wanted to remind him of that.
It felt so good to finally shut Malfoy up and in such an alluring way. He had always thought of simply beating him to a pulp to where he couldn’t let out any more petty insults during his time at Hogwarts, but now, as he was fucking Malfoy’s throat hard and fastly, forcing him to take more and more of his cock and knowing Malfoy loved it, he decided right then and there this was the best way to finally make Draco shut his trap. Give him exactly what he and Harry both desperately yearned for.
“Aw, baby, you’ve become so quiet. Nothing to say with your mouth full of cock now?” Harry remarked, giving Malfoy a fake pout.
It was so different from when Malfoy gave Harry a pout, so much more knowing and revealing. He knew exactly what he did to Draco, and he was taking advantage of that fact. Malfoy almost laughed at how ironic it was that his cock adored that just as much as his pride despised it.
Malfoy tried to narrow his eyes to feign annoyance, but all that came out was another pathetic choking sound as his eyes closed up in beautiful discomfort. He was absolutely gorgeous this way, eager to please and bared naked and submissive for Harry to see all of him.
Harry, worried he was going to come, made one last thrust into Malfoy’s welcoming, grateful mouth before pulling out and bringing Malfoy up by his hair with his hand. The leash was still held taut in his hand, keeping Draco on his guard if needed. A reminder that Harry would use it if necessary. Oh, fuck, did Draco hope it’d end up being necessary.
“You ready for me to tear that slutty arse apart?” Harry asked. It was a statement, not a genuine question. He was going to tear Draco’s arse apart, ready or not.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Malfoy replied in his usual drawl. His voice was so weak and fucked out now that Harry had completely wrecked his vocal cords with his cock. He sounded like the whore he was. Harry smirked to himself at the thought of Draco going into work the next day and having to perform a presentation, everyone slowly realizing what the posh, uptight boy had gotten up to the last night. Realizing how much Harry’s cock had destroyed his poor, sweet, willing throat.
Harry noticed a comfy-looking bed was tucked in one corner of the room. He laughed. “I’d have gone to any old vanilla Muggle club if I wanted to fuck on a bloody bed,” he said.
He continued, “Just so you know, Draco, you’re not off the hook still. If you think for one second I’m going to let you get your arse torn apart on a cute little bed, you better think again.”
“If you think for second that I would actually want to get my arse torn apart on a cute little bed, you better think again,” Malfoy retorted, a look of contempt on his face that the thought that he would ever like that would even cross Harry’s mind in the first place. It was funny to think how Malfoy would normally scoff at sleeping on anything less than a high-class, four-poster bed in his normal life, but this Malfoy would probably gladly take getting fucked on the floor if Harry told him they were going to, and he’d love it too.
“C'mere,” Harry began, pulling Malfoy by the leash over to a cool, metal table that was propped up at a slant in the middle of the room. There were bindings on it too. Perfect.
“Get up there,” Harry ordered Malfoy, giving a slight tug to the collar again. Malfoy would be lucky if it didn’t look like he had nearly escaped a strangling murderer the next day with how red his neck was going to be.
Malfoy immediately did what he was told, just as he had done the whole time. If he kept this up, Harry might even make this encounter a routine thing.
He baringly laid his naked body on the steel table, face down. He moved his hands up to the shackles, patiently waiting for Harry to strap him in. It was something Harry never thought he would ever see, and now that he had, it was something he wanted to see again and again until he had jacked himself off raw.
Harry latched the boy’s hands and thighs in, the clasps just barely fitting around his thick legs. For being so skinny, he really did have some curvy legs hidden underneath those suffocating robes. Now, Malfoy’s calves and feet were the only things free to move, laying off the edge of the slightly-slanted table, his toes just barely brushing the floor. His leaking cock was laid out behind him on its back to where Harry could see it in all its glory.
Harry kneeled down a bit to pull the boy’s asscheeks apart, finally revealing to himself what he had been waiting to fuck and ruin the most. The pink hole puckered back at him, almost saying that it wanted to be fucked and ruined itself too.
Harry ran a slow lick with his tongue over the sensitive area, and Malfoy jumped a bit underneath his tight grip on his thighs. Harry laughed. For once, Malfoy hadn’t been expecting something Harry did.
“Like that? Want me to get you ready with my tongue?” Harry asked. He noticed Malfoy’s cock was leaking even more than before.
“Please, Harry. Please, please fuck me with your tongue. Fill me up with it,” Malfoy begged. And, well, if he was broken down enough to where he was even going to call Harry by his real name instead of that bloody “Potter” nickname, he sure as shit wasn’t joking.
Satisfying Draco, he brought his tongue around his arse in slow, teasing circles, just barely touching the hole itself but always eventually moving it elsewhere just to mess with him.
Once he deemed Malfoy’s multitude of whines enough and thought he’d finally stopped torturing the poor boy, he flattened his tongue against the entrance, leaving it there a bit to wetten the area. He removed it once his spit had covered his hole and then proceeded to lick fastly over the area. Draco’s arsehole puckered underneath his tongue.
“God, you’re just aching for some fucking cock in you, aren’t you? Fucking filthy slut,” Harry growled out, smacking Draco’s arse and grabbing it possessively. The power he had over Malfoy was going straight to his head and his cock at once, filling him with an emotion he’d never felt before with any of his other sexual escapades. The memory of this night would go into his spank bank until he died probably.
“I - Is it that obvious?” Draco responded, a breathy laugh not hiding any of his arousal echoing in the room.
“Fuck yeah it is,” Harry replied before he stuck his tongue into Draco’s hole, invading the area further. He felt the tight clench of his arsehole, and fuck, he couldn’t wait to stick his cock in there.
Draco moaned highly in the back of his throat. He had been so good for Harry tonight that he decided to reward him for his stellar work. Without warning, he stuck two of his long fingers into Malfoy’s slicked-up hole, where his tongue was already residing.
“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me, Potter,” Malfoy moaned, moving his hole backwards on Harry, trying to get more, more, more inside of him.
“That’s the goal, isn’t it?” Harry joked before bringing his mouth back down to leave stray kisses around Draco’s hole while his fingers worked in and out of it.
He dipped his tongue inside the tight ring next to his fingers, and Malfoy’s insides tasted like pure velvet. It was like sticking his tongue into a beautiful, soft cloud - so gentle and delicate. If he wasn’t such a bloody sadist, he would’ve probably felt he should be careful with the sensitive area. Good thing he was such a bloody sadist.
Harry took his tongue out to give the boy some relief; he could feel the heavy, needy pants racking through Draco’s body. He moved his mouth to lick down the path from Malfoy’s arsehole to his bollocks, likely still both extra hypersensitive after having had the shit paddled out of them.
He brought one of the balls into his mouth, lightly sucking on them while he continued to move his two fingers out of Malfoy’s arsehole fastly, giving the boy little time to adjust, just how he liked it.
He began to suck Malfoy’s other bollock and moved his free hand down underneath his stomach to grab at the boy’s prick, gripping it tightly and hurriedly moving it up and down the shaft that had been patiently waiting for relief ever since this whole thing had started.
Harry was everywhere on Malfoy. His fingers in his arse, his mouth simultaneously caressing both of his balls, his hand stroking his aching cock. He was utterly overwhelmed with sensations everywhere, and yet all he could do was sit there and gladly take what was given to him.
Harry took his thumb and moved it into Malfoy’s hole along with the two other fingers already there. His arse was still tight, but it had loosened up some by now and gave little resistance to the prodding of Harry’s hand.
He fucked Malfoy on his fingers and brought his mouth off his balls to start sucking at the sides of his thighs, sucking the skin into his mouth and bringing it into his mouth to bite it. Malfoy cried out in utter pain, his thighs being one of the most responsive parts of his body.
Harry, still working his hand up and down Malfoy’s cock and licking his tongue over the parts of Malfoy’s legs that he had bitten to soothe them, took his ring finger and moved it towards Malfoy’s hole. He moved it in along with the other ones, sticking it in until he was up to his knuckles.
Harry brought his mouth off of Malfoy to calmly ask, “You think you can take the last finger? Think you can do that for me and show me just how much your arse is a slut just like you?”
“Please, Harry, please, please, please,” Malfoy cried out, pleas spilling out of his mouth, leaving a mess as if someone had knocked over 1,000 glasses of water onto the floor. Drool was spilling out of his open mouth embarrassingly, and it was beginning to leave a pool on the steel table next to his head.
“Well, then, if you want it so badly,” Harry replied, smirking. He stuck his remaining finger into Malfoy’s hole, and it gradually slid right in. He had all of his fingers inside Malfoy now, knuckle deep. It was a beautiful sight, the hole puckered and widened tightly around all of his digits, greedily taking them all in.
“Merlin, Draco, you’re being so good for me. Look at you with my fingers all up that pretty arse of yours,” Harry praised him, slowly moving all of his hand in and out of Malfoy’s hole.
He pushed his hand in more slightly until even his knuckles had disappeared inside of Malfoy’s never-ending hole. Draco was shaking a bit with how overcome his body was with feeling.
“What do you think your father would say if he saw you like this? Bent over with Harry Potter’s fist up your arse, fucking yourself back on it like a greedy little whore?” Harry asked, watching his slick fingers move into and out of the pink entrance.
“He’d know I’m your little bitch. It’s not like everyone couldn’t tell already anyways. I’m positive everyone knew I would drop to my knees like this with my ass open for business the second you asked me to,” Draco answered, his voice weak and pitiful.
“I need to be inside you, Jesus fucking Christ,” Harry remarked, disgracing the Lord himself’s name. It didn’t matter when he had a rosy, swollen hole in front of him begging to be filled by him.
He held the leash again in his hand, picking it up from where it had resided on the table next to Malfoy’s side while he was preparing him. The collar was still very much on Malfoy’s neck, and the spikes on it stood out in an almost petulant way.
He pulled up on the leash, moving Malfoy’s head up a bit from where it had been resting on the table. It was a warning, a reminder of what was about to come.
He set it down again to free his hands to guide his cock towards Malfoy’s gaping hole. It was so gorgeously stretched out and ready to be truly fucked senseless now. He spread the boy’s arsecheeks apart greedily, leaving his arsehole exposed, vulnerable, and waiting.
He pushed his cock in gradually, sighing with contentment as he felt the familiar warmth of Malfoy’s hole around a much more different, erotic part of his body now. It was like heaven on Earth.
“This what you’ve been waiting for all along, isn’t it? Always wanted to be torn apart by my big, fat cock,” Harry stated, pushing his prick further into the inviting area until he had bottomed out, all of his length inside of the hollow space.
“Fuck yeah. Fuck yeah, I always wanted you inside me, degrading me and tearing my pride to shreds. You’re the only one I’d ever want to see me like this,” Draco replied, his body moving up with every thrust Harry gave him.
Harry smirked to himself and filled with a need to prove even more to Malfoy just how dominating and controlling he could be. He gathered some spit in his mouth and spit next to where Malfoy’s head was turned on its side on the table. “Lick it all up for me. Use that mouth for even more good,” he ordered.
Draco quickly complied and stuck his tongue out to take the foamy white liquid into his mouth, but it was hard to get a good intake of it while he was currently getting the shit fucked out of him from behind. His head bobbed forward obscenely, and he could barely stay in one spot long enough to lick up all of Harry’s spit. But when he finally had, he kept his tongue out to display to Harry his achievement, his own saliva mixing with Harry’s now, dirtily and filthily.
Harry growled in praise, loving the sight of Malfoy bringing his long, outstretched tongue back into his mouth and swallowing his own spit and Harry’s down his throat. He was taking in a part of him; it was in his body now, he had Harry in him. In more ways than one.
Harry took one of his hands away from gripping tightly at Malfoy’s hips to push his neck down against the table, constricting his breathing even more than the collar was. He was choking him, and Malfoy was feebly sputtering and coughing, trying to gasp for a breath of air. Draco was lucky if he didn’t come right then and there from almost dying of asphyxiation because of Harry’s large bloody hands.
Malfoy felt the blood rush to his head as Harry continued to keep his neck down, making him feel like he was in a whole other universe, one made only of the pleasure that Harry was giving him and Merlin, did he love it.
Harry finally loosened his grip just to smack Malfoy’s face, leaving his cheeks red again. “You trying to murder me, Potter?” Malfoy questioned in a voice that sounded so much like his own and so much not like his own that it was so fucking hot. His throat had been fucked out, abused, used for every reason possible, and now he could barely speak normally without sounding like he was a wrecked mess. Fuck.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Harry responded, quickening his fast movements in the boy’s arse, making sure Malfoy wouldn’t miss out on even an inch of his cock.
“Maybe I wou - ah,” Malfoy stopped in the middle of his sentence as Harry had picked up the leash again and pulled it up quickly to cut him off. The collar made it almost impossible for him to speak, gritting up against his throat so snugly.
“Tell me how much you love this,” Harry told him, bringing another hand up to Draco’s hair to pull his head even further back than the collar and leash already had. Harry could almost see his half-lidded eyes rolled up in pleasure this way.
“I need it. I adore being your bitch, you owning me like this, showing me who’s boss. It’s always been you in charge Potter, always been you. This is who I am deep down, made to be used for other men’s pleasure, and I love it too. I deserve to be fucked so hard like this, especially by you. Thank you for putting me in my place, Potter. Humiliating and fucking the hell out of me is exactly what I wanted,” Draco said all at once, each word leaving his mouth as if he couldn’t let them out any quicker, couldn’t leave his darkest feelings out of the light any longer.
Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He was about to come, right then and there, in Draco Malfoy’s arse. He should’ve known their relationship would’ve always ended up like this no matter what in the end.
“I’m about to come in your greedy hole, bitch. You ready for me to leave you dripping and marked?” Harry asked, low pants coming out of his open mouth now.
“Fill my hole up all the way. Don’t leave one drop out, Jesus Christ. Fill my hole up to the very brim, make your cum spill out over the edge, please, Harry,” Draco begged, earnestly and unashamedly fucking himself back on Harry’s cock now, practically milking his orgasm out of him at this point.
And that was it for him. He came undone, continuing to pump Malfoy’s hole with his cock as cum spurted out of it, making the hole even more warm and wet than it was before. And, before his eyes, Draco came himself underneath Harry, his eyes squinted up in pure bliss as weak, high moans spilled out of his lips, his chest contracting with quick breaths, as his cum shot out of his own cock, finally all coming out of him.
“Did I tell you that you could come yet?” Harry asked him, painting a facade of anger on his face. But he wasn’t really annoyed at all. Draco had come just from being came in, and that was a whole different type of hot than orgasm denial.
“You try being fucked by a cock like that and see if you can stop yourself from coming,” Draco replied, hot breaths still racking through his body as he came down from his post-orgasm high.
Harry smirked. Malfoy still had some fight in him, and he was filled with the urge to take it right out of him again and snap it in half in his grip, but he stopped himself, knowing they were both completely spent. For this night at least.
“Think you can let me down now? Or are you gonna leave me here overnight to mess with in the morning?” Malfoy asked, gesturing with a movement of his head to the shackles. The thought of not releasing Malfoy, keeping him there tied up as he grew aroused again, practically a whimpering, begging mess by the time Harry finally decided to come back and relieve him, was a delicious fantasy.
He took Malfoy’s hands out of the shackles and walked over to his pants, which were still discarded against a wall in the room. He shuffled them back on, cast a cleansing charm on the come that had ended up on him and the steel table, and walked back over to Malfoy, who had dressed himself up again.
His lips were still just as red and swollen as his exposed cheeks and throat. Harry wondered how red and swollen the other, hidden parts of his body were now. No one knew the truth but him, he thought triumphantly.
“Well, Potter, you’re not gonna be calling up my abode at 3:00 AM tomorrow evening to tell me how much you’ve fallen in love with me now, are you?” Draco asked, his voice still beautifully ruined and breaking as he spoke.
“You wish, Malfoy, you wish,” Harry said as he closed the distance between them and ran a hand through the boy’s hair before gripping it with just the faintest hint of dominance, reminding him Harry knew the real Malfoy now, before he released him.
“You know though, I wouldn’t exactly put up a fight if you maybe called me at 3:00 AM tomorrow evening to fuck me again,” Malfoy suggested, saying it to where it could either be interpreted as simply a joke or an actual invitation. He hoped to dear Merlin that Harry would take it as the latter.
“Really can’t wait for me to ravage your pretty arse again, then, huh? You’re lucky I can’t wait to either then,” Harry replied with a genuine smile. This raw, sexual connection between them was new, foreign, but it was one of the most intense things he’d ever felt in his life, and he wasn’t going to let it go because of something as miniscule as his pride about pretending to not want to fuck his old rival senseless.
Draco smiled back coyly and said, “You have my address if you need it, Harry Potter,” before leaving the room with a small, but clearly purposeful sway of his ass. Harry could barely keep his mouth from watering at the thought of how pink and colored it must be now. He knew Malfoy would barely be able to sit on it tomorrow.
He couldn’t believe he had finally fucked Malfoy senseless just like the little cute bitch deserved. Had brought him to his poor knees to do his bidding and comply with whatever he wanted. Had degraded him to his most vulnerable point and left him whimpering and moaning and still begging for more of whatever Harry would decide to give him. No one else could ever affect him like Malfoy would, and maybe that really was for the best.
He couldn’t wait to call him up at 3:00 AM at his humble abode to fuck him again the next night. He palmed at his hardening cock in his pants as a smirk lit up his face at all the new, utterly satisfying trouble they could get themselves into now.