Ravenna C. Tan: Draco's Folly 1/16 (Draco/Harry, NC-17)
Title: Draco's Folly, Part 1/16
Author: ravenna_c_tan
Rating: NC-17
Prompt Set: 50.1 from the 100quills fest
Prompt: Ice
Word Count: 1279 (this segment)
Pairings: Draco/Harry, Draco/Hermione, Draco/others
Warnings: This is a very dark-themed fic. It contains power games, dubious consent, non-con, rape, public sex used as humiliation, murder attempts and violence, Unforgivable Curses, as well as consensual BDSM, bondage, and occasional bouts of vanilla sex.
Disclaimer: I wrote this fanfic for completely non-commercial enjoyment. All characters are not mine and are copyrighted and trademarked by their owners/publishers.
Beta-readers: jordangrant, strickens_girl, and kyuuketsukirui
Summary: Draco Malfoy has earned a place among the Death Eaters as Voldemort's very "special" inquisitor, using his erotic talents to wring information from Aurors and to torture prisoners in his own way. But nothing is simple in the service of the Dark Lord and Draco is caught between a death-wish and the desires of others.
Notes: The idea for this story spawned as a result of jordangrant's story " Famous Last Words" from the hp_cliche fest, which posited "Draco as erotic torturer for Voldemort." I immediately thought that this was such a good idea, it should become a new cliche. (Thus far, though, I think I may be the only other fic-writer to pick up the theme.)
Additional Warning: Dark. Very dark. Not romance, not adventure. Note cute. Almost the entire thing takes place in Voldemort's dungeons, just to give you an idea. Also, a very high smut-to-words ratio.
Part One: Ice
She was crying it was so good. The tears that streamed down her face were tears of ecstasy, and Draco leaned in close to taste them, pausing for just a moment in his steady rhythm so he could savor the moment. Tears like these were one of the surest signs he had succeeded. It was one thing when one of them screamed his name, nice, but it lacked the pure emotional surrender that came when they cried.
He resumed his long, slow strokes, then began to pull all the way out of her, dragging a few thrusts up her clit before plunging deep again, this new rhythm making her wail, even as he rolled the words on his tongue that would destroy her.
Not yet. Granger had resisted so much in the beginning, the fact that he could now make her wet for him with just a look was worth milking a bit more. Lately, she seemed to have fallen so completely that a part of him wondered if she could be playing him. But the tears were real. Not even Snape was that good an actor, and he relished the feeling of power he had over her. She was good for another few sessions, and then he would break her.
"I'm going to come," he whispered to her.
"Oh, yes, please Draco," she answered, her eyes shut tight and her hands grasping at his hips, trying to get him to go deeper.
"What if I want to come on your face?"
"Oh, no, please, inside me. I..." Her eyes flew open and she begged with them. "I don't feel fulfilled if you don't come inside me."
Of course she didn't. That was just one part of Draco's magic. He stroked her cheek as if he cared. "I know. You've been so good. I'll oblige you this time, since we're alone." That was one of the best lies, one of the ones that destroyed them the most thoroughly, when they found out that in fact he had not been arranging to see them secretly, privately, because he really loved/lusted after/respected them. When they found out that both the times he had raped them in front of the Dark Lord and the times they had thought were just for them were in fact, all part of their torture. "But only if you come again, with me."
She clutched at him, her chest still partly heaving with sobs. "I... I don't think I can. I've had so many..."
"Shh, shhh." He fucked her gently now, not as deeply, changing his angle to get at her G-spot. "I'm sure you can. Just one more. For me?"
"I'll try."
"Thank you," he breathed, like she was doing something wonderful for him, which she was. As soon as his charms wore off, she would feel how raw she was, how sore. And yet if he had done his job right, she would still be aching for him to touch her again.
He felt her begin to tighten again, as she went up the slope of arousal. He slid his hand between their bodies, his thumb finding the hard, sore nub of her clit and his pelvis jamming it hard. He felt her stomach clench and knew that despite her fatigue and soreness she was drawing close.
As was he. Now he had a choice to make. Which would be more gratifying, to get his rocks off and empty his load deep inside her, or to... oh, of course, he hadn't pulled this trick on her yet. Now was simply the perfect time. He brought himself to the brink, then clutched at his arm, grimacing as if in terrible pain.
"Oh no!" she cried. "Is it him?"
He fairly leaped off her, and doubled over again, for added effect. "He must be very angry or very agitated about something," he said conspiratorially. "For the Mark to hurt this much..."
She was eating it up, giving him the most intense "oh poor baby" looks, even while she herself lay panting and achingly close to release.
"I’m so sorry," Draco said, kissing her full on the mouth even as he redid her bonds and his own robes with a flick of his wand. With her hands and feet secured, as was usual for prisoners of her abilities, she wouldn't even be able to bring herself off after he left. "I must go. But I promise to return, as soon as I can escape suspicion."
Again with the "poor baby" looks. He Disapparated then, as if answering a summons, but where he appeared was not at the Dark Lord's feet, but in his own bed chamber. Here he finally let his self-control go, grabbing himself through the fabric of his robes and tugging furiously, in the end pressing his erection hard against the side of the mahogany wardrobe and coming like a bull dragon in high season.
He actually felt faint, then, and he collapsed on his bed in his soiled robes. He checked the hourglass on the nightstand--he had been shagging Granger for nigh on two hours. No doubt she had no sense of how much time had passed, another of the mild effects of the charms Draco cast--or maybe really good sex was just like that, magic or no magic.
The charms, of course, were not the thing that had earned Draco the position of erotic inquisitor for the Dark Lord. No, that post he had won on his sexual skills alone, but since getting the job, and excelling at it, he had developed many magical extensions of his natural abilities. Snape liked to hurt people; he invented spells that slashed them to ribbons. Draco preferred pleasure as a weapon; he invented spells that made people weep with longing at the sight of his cock.
His state of languor was about to switch to a deep and satisfied sleep when he felt the slow burn along his arm as the Dark Mark came to life. To Draco it was rarely the stabbing, excruciating pain he had playacted for Granger. It was more of a sensual thing. He cast a hasty cleaning charm because, erotic inquisitor or no, it wouldn't do to present himself in front of the Dark Lord with his robes coated in jism.
Draco appeared in the dungeon antechamber where Wormtail was waiting for him. At Wormtail's gesture, Draco went through the warded doorway into the larger area Draco thought of as the throne room, though the Dark Lord rarely sat down. It was a high-ceilinged room in the keep, the only windows high up near the vaulted roof letting in wan sunlight.
The Dark Lord was there, standing as usual, this time his snake-like head bent as he conferred in quiet tones with Severus Snape. Behind them stood a rather large chest, bound with iron and intricate locks. Draco had not seen it before.
Both men looked up at Draco's approach with something like glee in their eyes.
"Young Malfoy, do join us, I have a bit of news that I think you will enjoy," said the Dark Lord.
"Yes, my lord?" Draco asked, even as he searched Snape's eyes for a clue.
"Yes, I think you will both enjoy the news I have for you very much." Voldemort rubbed his hands together. "The day has come at last." And with that, he gestured with his wand to the chest, and the locks all along it sprang open. The lid then creaked as it fell open.
Draco joined the other two men in peering down into the chest. There, apparently unconscious but alive, lay a dark-haired man, naked except for chains and manacles on his wrists and ankles. Despite the various scrapes and bruises on him, the scar on his forehead was as distinct as daylight.
"Potter," Draco breathed, the flush he thought he had left behind in his bedroom returning to his cheeks. "At last."
***
Next Chapter's Prompt: Quarrel. Getting his hands on Harry will not be as easy as Draco hopes. Click HERE to go on to the next chapter.
Author: ravenna_c_tan
Rating: NC-17
Prompt Set: 50.1 from the 100quills fest
Prompt: Ice
Word Count: 1279 (this segment)
Pairings: Draco/Harry, Draco/Hermione, Draco/others
Warnings: This is a very dark-themed fic. It contains power games, dubious consent, non-con, rape, public sex used as humiliation, murder attempts and violence, Unforgivable Curses, as well as consensual BDSM, bondage, and occasional bouts of vanilla sex.
Disclaimer: I wrote this fanfic for completely non-commercial enjoyment. All characters are not mine and are copyrighted and trademarked by their owners/publishers.
Beta-readers: jordangrant, strickens_girl, and kyuuketsukirui
Summary: Draco Malfoy has earned a place among the Death Eaters as Voldemort's very "special" inquisitor, using his erotic talents to wring information from Aurors and to torture prisoners in his own way. But nothing is simple in the service of the Dark Lord and Draco is caught between a death-wish and the desires of others.
Notes: The idea for this story spawned as a result of jordangrant's story " Famous Last Words" from the hp_cliche fest, which posited "Draco as erotic torturer for Voldemort." I immediately thought that this was such a good idea, it should become a new cliche. (Thus far, though, I think I may be the only other fic-writer to pick up the theme.)
Additional Warning: Dark. Very dark. Not romance, not adventure. Note cute. Almost the entire thing takes place in Voldemort's dungeons, just to give you an idea. Also, a very high smut-to-words ratio.
Part One: Ice
She was crying it was so good. The tears that streamed down her face were tears of ecstasy, and Draco leaned in close to taste them, pausing for just a moment in his steady rhythm so he could savor the moment. Tears like these were one of the surest signs he had succeeded. It was one thing when one of them screamed his name, nice, but it lacked the pure emotional surrender that came when they cried.
He resumed his long, slow strokes, then began to pull all the way out of her, dragging a few thrusts up her clit before plunging deep again, this new rhythm making her wail, even as he rolled the words on his tongue that would destroy her.
Not yet. Granger had resisted so much in the beginning, the fact that he could now make her wet for him with just a look was worth milking a bit more. Lately, she seemed to have fallen so completely that a part of him wondered if she could be playing him. But the tears were real. Not even Snape was that good an actor, and he relished the feeling of power he had over her. She was good for another few sessions, and then he would break her.
"I'm going to come," he whispered to her.
"Oh, yes, please Draco," she answered, her eyes shut tight and her hands grasping at his hips, trying to get him to go deeper.
"What if I want to come on your face?"
"Oh, no, please, inside me. I..." Her eyes flew open and she begged with them. "I don't feel fulfilled if you don't come inside me."
Of course she didn't. That was just one part of Draco's magic. He stroked her cheek as if he cared. "I know. You've been so good. I'll oblige you this time, since we're alone." That was one of the best lies, one of the ones that destroyed them the most thoroughly, when they found out that in fact he had not been arranging to see them secretly, privately, because he really loved/lusted after/respected them. When they found out that both the times he had raped them in front of the Dark Lord and the times they had thought were just for them were in fact, all part of their torture. "But only if you come again, with me."
She clutched at him, her chest still partly heaving with sobs. "I... I don't think I can. I've had so many..."
"Shh, shhh." He fucked her gently now, not as deeply, changing his angle to get at her G-spot. "I'm sure you can. Just one more. For me?"
"I'll try."
"Thank you," he breathed, like she was doing something wonderful for him, which she was. As soon as his charms wore off, she would feel how raw she was, how sore. And yet if he had done his job right, she would still be aching for him to touch her again.
He felt her begin to tighten again, as she went up the slope of arousal. He slid his hand between their bodies, his thumb finding the hard, sore nub of her clit and his pelvis jamming it hard. He felt her stomach clench and knew that despite her fatigue and soreness she was drawing close.
As was he. Now he had a choice to make. Which would be more gratifying, to get his rocks off and empty his load deep inside her, or to... oh, of course, he hadn't pulled this trick on her yet. Now was simply the perfect time. He brought himself to the brink, then clutched at his arm, grimacing as if in terrible pain.
"Oh no!" she cried. "Is it him?"
He fairly leaped off her, and doubled over again, for added effect. "He must be very angry or very agitated about something," he said conspiratorially. "For the Mark to hurt this much..."
She was eating it up, giving him the most intense "oh poor baby" looks, even while she herself lay panting and achingly close to release.
"I’m so sorry," Draco said, kissing her full on the mouth even as he redid her bonds and his own robes with a flick of his wand. With her hands and feet secured, as was usual for prisoners of her abilities, she wouldn't even be able to bring herself off after he left. "I must go. But I promise to return, as soon as I can escape suspicion."
Again with the "poor baby" looks. He Disapparated then, as if answering a summons, but where he appeared was not at the Dark Lord's feet, but in his own bed chamber. Here he finally let his self-control go, grabbing himself through the fabric of his robes and tugging furiously, in the end pressing his erection hard against the side of the mahogany wardrobe and coming like a bull dragon in high season.
He actually felt faint, then, and he collapsed on his bed in his soiled robes. He checked the hourglass on the nightstand--he had been shagging Granger for nigh on two hours. No doubt she had no sense of how much time had passed, another of the mild effects of the charms Draco cast--or maybe really good sex was just like that, magic or no magic.
The charms, of course, were not the thing that had earned Draco the position of erotic inquisitor for the Dark Lord. No, that post he had won on his sexual skills alone, but since getting the job, and excelling at it, he had developed many magical extensions of his natural abilities. Snape liked to hurt people; he invented spells that slashed them to ribbons. Draco preferred pleasure as a weapon; he invented spells that made people weep with longing at the sight of his cock.
His state of languor was about to switch to a deep and satisfied sleep when he felt the slow burn along his arm as the Dark Mark came to life. To Draco it was rarely the stabbing, excruciating pain he had playacted for Granger. It was more of a sensual thing. He cast a hasty cleaning charm because, erotic inquisitor or no, it wouldn't do to present himself in front of the Dark Lord with his robes coated in jism.
Draco appeared in the dungeon antechamber where Wormtail was waiting for him. At Wormtail's gesture, Draco went through the warded doorway into the larger area Draco thought of as the throne room, though the Dark Lord rarely sat down. It was a high-ceilinged room in the keep, the only windows high up near the vaulted roof letting in wan sunlight.
The Dark Lord was there, standing as usual, this time his snake-like head bent as he conferred in quiet tones with Severus Snape. Behind them stood a rather large chest, bound with iron and intricate locks. Draco had not seen it before.
Both men looked up at Draco's approach with something like glee in their eyes.
"Young Malfoy, do join us, I have a bit of news that I think you will enjoy," said the Dark Lord.
"Yes, my lord?" Draco asked, even as he searched Snape's eyes for a clue.
"Yes, I think you will both enjoy the news I have for you very much." Voldemort rubbed his hands together. "The day has come at last." And with that, he gestured with his wand to the chest, and the locks all along it sprang open. The lid then creaked as it fell open.
Draco joined the other two men in peering down into the chest. There, apparently unconscious but alive, lay a dark-haired man, naked except for chains and manacles on his wrists and ankles. Despite the various scrapes and bruises on him, the scar on his forehead was as distinct as daylight.
"Potter," Draco breathed, the flush he thought he had left behind in his bedroom returning to his cheeks. "At last."
***
Next Chapter's Prompt: Quarrel. Getting his hands on Harry will not be as easy as Draco hopes. Click HERE to go on to the next chapter.