Malfoy Rings (NC-17) for scarletladyy
Title: Malfoy Rings
Author:
Pairing: Draco/Pansy, Pansy/Crabbe/Goyle
Rating: NC17
Warnings: noncon, coercion, manipulation, mindfuckery, piercing, whipping/belting/spanking, sex toys, sadism, anal, oral, humiliation, first time, evil!Draco. NOT for the faint of heart!
Summary: Draco has a plan to get out of being betrothed.
Notes: I couldn't QUITE make Draco pure evil - he struggles with it - but hopefully it'll be enough to please. I also tried to work in the theme for this round, but couldn't find a way to state it outright. With any luck it'll be visible anyway. Also, thanks to my beta TGI, who did a marvelous job despite it not being her cup of tea.
Pansy Parkinson had been getting irritating lately, ever since she'd turned seventeen (he still had nightmares about her birthday party, which Narcissa had insisted he attend. It had been like drowning in a sea of pink!). She'd been a late bloomer; while her face still lacked classic beauty, her body had developed some very nice curves. He'd been as surprised as any when that beanpole body had suddenly sported a nice pair of full, round tits, neat trim waist, and curving arse. A lush, sensual body....the kind that would make a spectacular fuck, he thought.
But the idea of marrying her? No. She'd have half the Manor or more decorated in fuchsia and lavender and coral and other horrifying shades. He'd almost had a panic attack when he overheard his parents discussing a formal betrothal with the Parkinsons!
So he'd made his own plans. It was easy, really. One trip to the Malfoy family vault - ostensibly for a matched set of heirloom gemstone buttons - and a discrete owl order, and directions for Crabbe and Goyle to clear the common room - free food was an easy way to accomplish that - and his plan was ready for action.
Pansy was alone in the empty common room, slumped on the couch in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames; she looked up, startled, when Draco flopped onto the couch next to her, sprawling out languidly. He let his eyes roam over her body; her hair was sleek and black and glossy, and he imagined it was quite as silky to the touch as it looked. She had long arms and legs, a long slender neck, pale milky skin, and while she wore the standard sweater over her blouse, the layers couldn't hide the generous fullness of her breasts. He could all but feel their soft, heavy weight in his hands. Were it not for her distinctly Parkinson face, she would look fabulous on the arm of a Malfoy.
"Well, Pans," he broke into the silence, throwing her a practiced, easy smile. "I hear our families are discussing betrothal. My mother is quite for it, you know. Your mother and mine do get along quite famously." The eagerness and hope in her face was pathetic in its intensity. "My father, now, he holds to the Malfoy traditions. He's said it's to be my choice and encouraged me to see how well we suit before making any irrevocable decisions. If you know what I mean." He looked down at her, letting his eyes linger on her chest long enough for her to blush.
"You mean to go on dates? But we've known each other almost all our lives, Draco - "
Draco smirked at her. "I mean bedding, Pans. An up-close and personal look at the goods, so to speak. If I married you and then found out, say, you're a frigid bitch in bed, it'd suck for me, wouldn't it? Or suppose you were appallingly vanilla about things? What if you never owned a bit of lingerie in your life, and wore granny knickers? I could hardly be expected to get an heir on you under such circumstances!"
Pansy gaped at him, paled, and blushed in rapid succession. "Draco Malfoy!" She began, scandalised, "You know full well a pureblood bride is supposed to be virginal for the marriage bed! And I can assure you, I do not wear anything so revolting as granny knickers. I do own lingerie - not that it's any of your business - and I'm sure I can be quite passionate!"
He let himself look doubtful, and even scornful, as his eyes raked down her body - the heavy stockings that covered every inch of her legs modestly (while not hiding their shapely appearance), the way her blouse was buttoned to the neck. "I hardly think you know how to howl in bed," he said dismissively, suppressing a grin when he saw her stiffen.
"Furthermore, Malfoy men are dominant in bed. You're not fond of taking orders, Pans. You'd never make it as a Malfoy bride. You might be ace at managing multiple estates and dealing with large incomes - " he smirked at the glint in her eye - such a mercenary little bitch - "but I could just as easily hire someone from Gringotts to handle that. No, what it really boils down to is this, Pans; if I can't stand you in bed, I'll never tolerate you as a bride. That's all there is to it."
Pansy gnawed on her lower lip, and it was all Draco could do to suppress the mental images of those lips stretched around his cock. "I would need insurance. If I do what you want and you decide to marry someone else, you'd have ruined my prospects for anyone else."
She was falling neatly into his trap. He sat back and made a show of thinking hard. "I tell you what, Pans," he said slowly, "If you prove you're up to it in the bedroom and do what I want - all of it - I will swear upon my magic that you'll get a pair of Malfoy rings by the end of the day." His eyes met hers, daring her to take the offer.
"And if I back out?" There was always a catch.
"If you back out after after I've sworn and we've started, you'll pay me your dowry."
"What?!"
He spoke slowly, so she wouldn't misunderstand - though he had no intention of letting her back out. "If I'm going to swear my magic, Pans, surely you can risk a little gold? For all I know, you'll get cold feet at first sight of a naked man."
She wibbled between desire and uncertainty; greed won out. "If you swear on your magic, then I'll do whatever you want. And if I back out, I swear I'll give you my dowry." She lifted her head and glared.
He smirked; she was his. He laid his wand on the low table between them and the fire, and splayed his fingers over it. "I swear on my magic that, if Pansy Parkinson lets me do as I wish with her today, she will wear Malfoy rings by days' end." A glow of light and a flash of sparks lit the wand briefly, in acknowledgment of the vow.
Pansy blinked, then a small smile curled her lips upwards. "What do you want?"
"Strip."
"Here?" He met her incredulous expression with a challenging gaze, leaning back against the couch insolently.
"Well, you don't have to...unless you'd rather just hand over your Gringotts account." He smiled, with a hint of teeth: a promise of the Malfoy sneer he would have in the future.
"No! I mean - " She shot a nervous, hesitant look at the door to the common room, then at Crabbe and Goyle, who were strategically positioned near the entrance. "Tell them to leave."
"That's for me to decide, isn't it? Maybe I have a voyeuristic streak and want them to watch as I give you a go. Are you going to back out?"
Greed was a wonderful motivator; she glared at him, but stood and began to unbutton her blouse quickly. Blouse, then skirt, shoes, stockings, bra, and knickers, all neatly folded and set on a chair to the side until she stood nude in front of him, defiantly; she forced her arms to her sides, letting him look his fill. Only the rising blush that spread down her neck showed her discomfort.
She's definitely ripe for picking. His cock hardened in his trousers as he let his eyes linger with heat on her full, heavy breasts; creamy skin with large dusky nipples stiffening in the chill. He didn't ask her permission, only reached out and cupped her left breast, feeling its substantial weight in his palm, soft and warm. Without warning he squeezed cruelly, enjoying the way she winced and twitched when his fingers dug in.
"Malfoys are taught to be perfect lovers," he lectured her, "considerate, fulfilling, and tenderly exquisite." He released her breast and his long fingers stroked her nipple, lingering when the caress made her tremble and lean into the touch. "But sometimes we have a darker side that needs sating. Can you stand those times?" His touch abruptly changed from gentle to cruel, seizing her nipple tightly and twisting it until she gasped and tears rose suddenly to her eyes. His other hand found her other nipple and twisted in an opposing direction, pulling them so she was forced to stumble forward, almost falling into his lap.
"Draco, that hurts!" she whined, but he only laughed.
"And what if that's what I want?" He surged to his feet and shoved her; she stepped backwards and fell, sprawling gracelessly over the low table. He picked up his wand, sliding it free of her thigh where she'd fallen on it; a quick flick of his wand at the juncture of her thigh and her pubic hair was gone; it was followed by a harsh cleaning spell that made her twitch with discomfort and embarrassment.
He twisted his wand between his fingers, looking down at her. "A man makes a lot of concessions to his wife for a peaceful household. Sometimes he needs to assert himself. Take control. Put her in her place. Can you deal with that? Maybe you should set your sights a little lower - "
His threat hit home and she stiffened, biting her lip. "No! I can handle it. Do whatever you want."
He let her lie there until she was almost writhing in embarassment and nervousness, until he relented. "And if I want to bend you over that table and spank your bare quim and call you all sorts of raunchy degrading things? And then fuck you into that table without any concern for your so-called feelings or needs?"
She flinched, but lifted her chin; her eyes showed her uncertainty and fear. "I won't stop you."
"And if I tell you to undress me, and give me my belt to whip your arse with?"
She understood his dare, and rose to it. Clumsily she sat up and fumbled at his robes, pushing them from his shoulders and letting them fall to his feet in a pool of black and emerald fabric, the Malfoy crest glinting at her from atop them. It gave her the courage to undo the buttons on his shirt and push that down his shoulders too, revealing the wide pale shoulders and the narrow waist. She faltered at his trousers, but elected to slide the stiff black leather belt from the loops before she unfastened his trousers.
She pushed trousers and pants down together, though she couldn't hide her nervous twitch when his erection slipped free of the confining material and stood proudly erect, the purpling glans half hidden by the foreskin. He smirked; he'd known just how much his robes concealed. There was a Malfoy family secret ritual, passed down to the males only - but it guaranteed no Malfoy male would be left wanting in terms of size.
Still, though she blanched, her hands were steady when she offered him his belt back. That will change, he thought cruelly, doubling the sturdy leather in his right hand. He'd picked it specially for this; it would deliver a hefty wallop. Morever, it had large raised metal studs along one side.
But first - "Accio toys!" The package he'd ordered came floating from his room and into his hand; he upended it on the couch, spilling a variety of sex toys onto the worn green plush, smirking at her nervous squeak. He chose a pair of wicked-looking toothed clamps, with attached weights and a connecting chain. He turned back to her with a wicked smile. "These can only be removed with my touch," he told her, before fastening them to her nipples, tightening them until they bit deeply into her nipples. She bit her lip, struggling to stay quiet; one sharp tug on the adjoining chain and she yelped. "The more you try to be silent, the harder I'll try to make you scream," he warned her.
"Turn around and kneel on the table," he commanded, sneering when she obeyed nervously, looking at him over her shoulder, tears in her eyes. She moved gingerly; his cock surged with lust, seeing the sway of her full breasts as she knelt, the weighted clamps pulling at her nipples.
"Don't expect you can always treat me like this, Malfoy!" Pansy told him, but she couldn't hide the tremor of uncertainty in her voice.
"Of course not," he sneered. You have no idea. He folded the belt in half with the studs on the inside, forming a heavy leather loop, and swung experimentally at her arse. He was rewarded with a nice loud crack as it hit her arse, echoed with a loud yelp.
"How many hits?" she asked, desperate to see an end.
He only raised an eyebrow, and began in earnest, filling the room with the sound of leather on skin, spacing the blows to cover her from the top of her arse to down her thighs. When he reached the crease of her thighs and arse, he flipped the belt, so the studs were on the outside, and resumed his blows, now focusing on her nude cunt.
Pansy's sobs and cries egged him on; he stopped only when his arm was tired and he was short of breath. By then her backside and thighs were flaming red, covered with wide ribbons of welts; he hmmed appreciatively when he ran his hands over her heated skin, smacking her over her quim with his palm and almost groaning when she shuddered and flinched from his touch. "All warmed up, Pans. Are you ready for me?"
She ignored him, pillowing her face in her arms and crying. "Surely I'm not that bad at this, am I?" he said in feigned disappointment. "Well, roll over then." He pushed at her hips until she fell sideways, then she sniffled and rolled onto her back, glaring at him from a tear-stained face.
"I will never forgive you for this, Draco Malfoy!" she hissed, but he smirked at her.
"Who said I wanted your forgiveness? Besides, we both get what we want. I get a fucktoy, you get permanent ties to the Malfoy name." Just not in the way you think. He rubbed his cock between her nether lips, red and swollen from repeated blows, and was amused to find her slick. "Your cunt is ready for me - who would have thought there was a masochistic painslut under that feigned modesty?"
"It's not feigned!" Draco thought the horrified look on her face was priceless.
"Count your blessings, Parkinson," he mocked, "this will be easier for you with your cunt wet and warmed up." He moved between her legs and positioned his cock at her entrance, and added with false solicitousness, "Let me know if I hurt you?"
And then he thrust in, meeting the barrier and tearing through it. Merlin! Hot, tight, slick pleasure embraced his cock as he penetrated her, and he ignored the way she arched and screamed beneath him; her feelings were inconsequential to his own pleasure.
"So good, Pans, so fucking tight," he panted, pulling out almost completely, before burying himself again, giving her no time to adjust to him. He leaned over her and braced himself with one hand, enjoying the movement of her breasts as he thrust hard into her. "How does it feel to be a woman?"
"Stop, it hurts, you bastard!" she sobbed, trying to push him away weakly. "You can have my bloody dowry, so stop, please!"
"It always hurts the first time, Parkinson," he said, a bit breathlessly, "so I figure, why bother making it good? Good for you, at least." His free hand found her right breast and toyed with the nipple, pinching the swollen nub around the toothed clamp, grinning when she sobbed and tightened around his shaft; he wasn't going to last long, he knew. She was too tight, too hot, and he'd been so turned on already.
"I'm going to come soon, Pans," he told her, his battering thrusts speeding up, "going to come inside you. Won't you like that? Maybe you'll even get pregnant with my brat - "
"No, please stop! I don't want this!"
"You - asked - for - this!" He was almost there - the tight heat was indescribable. Just a little more and he'd be pushed over the edge. He gripped the chain connecting the clamps, and saw her eyes widen in fear.
For a moment, he floundered in memory:
Draco could only stare horrified at the sight of his mother, on her hands and knees, sobbing and writhing while his father held her under the Cruciatus. "There is no room in a Malfoy for weakness, Draco," Lucius said coldly, cruelly. "I thought I had taught you that. I thought I had made every effort to raise you to understand that. Therefore, Narcissa must be the cause of your humiliating weakness."
"She didn't do anything! It's not her fault!"
"Oh, your fault, is it? Then I suppose I should be casting the Cruciatus on you?"
He swallowed around a mouth suddenly dry with fear, and stepped back; he tried to ignore the look of betrayal in his mother's eyes when he looked away.
Her screams and sobs ended abruptly and plunged the room into silence; when he looked up, Lucius' eyes pinned Draco to where he stood. "That compassion will cost you," he said, almost kindly, "Compassion will always cost you. Crucio!"
His world exploded into agony.
NO! He forced the memory away. I'm not weak like that. Not anymore. He was just like Lucius now; compassion had no place in his life. He could be just as hard and cruel.
"A Malfoy always keeps his promises, Pansy; remember that;" he panted, determined to savour the tear-streaked face, the eyes wide with pain and fear.
He pulled on the chain, hard enough to pull the clamps free, and let her screaming and writhing push him over the edge.
When he came down from the high, he pulled out of her; his white seed mixed with blood that showed she'd been a virgin. Bet that hurt. She was so fucking tight! He patted her hip, and heard her whimper.
"Don't worry, Pans, the worst is over," he said with false sympathy, as he reached for his wand. "Just the rings now. Crabbe! Goyle!" He raised his voice, shouting the last two. He smirked when Pansy shrieked and lunged for her clothes; she was so predictable. A quickly cast Incarcerous stopped her in her tracks as his two cohorts left their stations and ambled closely, eyes immediately drawn to her nude form, taking in the view hungrily.
"I need a witness to the keeping of my promise," he told them languidly. "Accio matched Malfoy rings!" A small box with the Malfoy family crest soared to his hand, and he opened it slowly.
"Damn it, Malfoy, I said I don't want to marry you anymore!" Pansy struggled against the ropes and glared at him, but the effect was ruined by her tear-blotched face. That, and the way her full breasts and swollen nipples were jiggling as she struggled.
All in all, it was almost enough to get him hard again.
"But if I broke my promise, I'd lose my magic. And a Malfoy always keeps their promises, didn't you know that?" His smile, he knew, was distinctly predatory.
He tipped the two rings into his hands; two heavy gold rings tooled with chain links in silver. Rings of bondage....a matching pair that had been in the Malfoy family for generations. Magically binding.
He held them loosely in his palm, and spoke the incantation. "With these rings, I make you mine, by blood and sweat and tears. So mote it be!" The rings flared briefly, then vanished; a moment later Pansy screamed as the spell pierced her nipples. The rings parted, threaded themselves through the new piercings, then sealed into solid rings again in a flash of light and heat.
Rings thus sealed couldn't be removed. Draco smirked and sprawled back. "Malfoy rings, Pansy;" he drawled, "marking you as my property. How do you like them?"
"Take them off!" she screamed at him, "this isn't funny anymore!"
"I don't joke, Pansy," he told her, calm even while part of his mind shuddered at what he was doing. Shut up, he told that part of himself. I can't be weak anymore.
She scrambled for her clothes when he released her, but stared, horrified, when her clothes flared into flame, and subsided into ash. "Why? What have you done to me?" She sounded broken, he thought. Better her than me.
"Why? Because they would have forced me into a marriage with you. No-one forces me. No one!" He leaned forward to emphasize his point, and was gratified when she flinched and leaned away. "I've just made sure that you can never be forced to marry me. As for the what..."
He cupped a breast in one hand, admiring the finger-shaped bruises beginning to form there, the red swollen nipple that now sported a gleaming ring. He tugged on it to see her flinch. "I've made you into my property. A slave, a fucktoy, an unpaid whore....whatever I want you to be. For what it's worth, though, Pans, I think you'll be an incredible fucktoy." He tried to ignore the fresh tears sliding down her face and the shattered, betrayed expression in her eyes. Despite the difference in color, they looked too much like his mother's had.
"You cannot physically disobey me - if I tell you to suck someone off, you will. If I tell you to bend over for someone, you will. Speaking of which - you have two virginities left, and I have some friends to reward. Which is what Crabbe and Goyle are waiting for. Crabbe, her arse is yours, and Goyle, you get her mouth. Do tell me what you think of her?" He slouched back into the couch, enjoying the crushed velvet against his bare skin - he'd have to get dressed soon, but he let himself enjoy a hedonistic moment.
"But you promised you - mmmph!"
Pansy's wailing protest was cut off abruptly by Goyle, though he only partly muffled her shriek of pain and denial when Crabbe forced his way into her arse.
Draco walled his heart with ice, and forced himself to watch his friends fuck his new toy, forced himself to find pleasure in it, stroking a slowly returning erection.
"Besides, Pansy," he told her, callously, "You know Purebloods only take virgin brides."
dmexchangemods is an account created solely for purpose of posting the gifts created for this exchange. It has not authored or created these gifts.
Author:
Pairing: Draco/Pansy, Pansy/Crabbe/Goyle
Rating: NC17
Warnings: noncon, coercion, manipulation, mindfuckery, piercing, whipping/belting/spanking, sex toys, sadism, anal, oral, humiliation, first time, evil!Draco. NOT for the faint of heart!
Summary: Draco has a plan to get out of being betrothed.
Notes: I couldn't QUITE make Draco pure evil - he struggles with it - but hopefully it'll be enough to please. I also tried to work in the theme for this round, but couldn't find a way to state it outright. With any luck it'll be visible anyway. Also, thanks to my beta TGI, who did a marvelous job despite it not being her cup of tea.
Pansy Parkinson had been getting irritating lately, ever since she'd turned seventeen (he still had nightmares about her birthday party, which Narcissa had insisted he attend. It had been like drowning in a sea of pink!). She'd been a late bloomer; while her face still lacked classic beauty, her body had developed some very nice curves. He'd been as surprised as any when that beanpole body had suddenly sported a nice pair of full, round tits, neat trim waist, and curving arse. A lush, sensual body....the kind that would make a spectacular fuck, he thought.
But the idea of marrying her? No. She'd have half the Manor or more decorated in fuchsia and lavender and coral and other horrifying shades. He'd almost had a panic attack when he overheard his parents discussing a formal betrothal with the Parkinsons!
So he'd made his own plans. It was easy, really. One trip to the Malfoy family vault - ostensibly for a matched set of heirloom gemstone buttons - and a discrete owl order, and directions for Crabbe and Goyle to clear the common room - free food was an easy way to accomplish that - and his plan was ready for action.
Pansy was alone in the empty common room, slumped on the couch in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames; she looked up, startled, when Draco flopped onto the couch next to her, sprawling out languidly. He let his eyes roam over her body; her hair was sleek and black and glossy, and he imagined it was quite as silky to the touch as it looked. She had long arms and legs, a long slender neck, pale milky skin, and while she wore the standard sweater over her blouse, the layers couldn't hide the generous fullness of her breasts. He could all but feel their soft, heavy weight in his hands. Were it not for her distinctly Parkinson face, she would look fabulous on the arm of a Malfoy.
"Well, Pans," he broke into the silence, throwing her a practiced, easy smile. "I hear our families are discussing betrothal. My mother is quite for it, you know. Your mother and mine do get along quite famously." The eagerness and hope in her face was pathetic in its intensity. "My father, now, he holds to the Malfoy traditions. He's said it's to be my choice and encouraged me to see how well we suit before making any irrevocable decisions. If you know what I mean." He looked down at her, letting his eyes linger on her chest long enough for her to blush.
"You mean to go on dates? But we've known each other almost all our lives, Draco - "
Draco smirked at her. "I mean bedding, Pans. An up-close and personal look at the goods, so to speak. If I married you and then found out, say, you're a frigid bitch in bed, it'd suck for me, wouldn't it? Or suppose you were appallingly vanilla about things? What if you never owned a bit of lingerie in your life, and wore granny knickers? I could hardly be expected to get an heir on you under such circumstances!"
Pansy gaped at him, paled, and blushed in rapid succession. "Draco Malfoy!" She began, scandalised, "You know full well a pureblood bride is supposed to be virginal for the marriage bed! And I can assure you, I do not wear anything so revolting as granny knickers. I do own lingerie - not that it's any of your business - and I'm sure I can be quite passionate!"
He let himself look doubtful, and even scornful, as his eyes raked down her body - the heavy stockings that covered every inch of her legs modestly (while not hiding their shapely appearance), the way her blouse was buttoned to the neck. "I hardly think you know how to howl in bed," he said dismissively, suppressing a grin when he saw her stiffen.
"Furthermore, Malfoy men are dominant in bed. You're not fond of taking orders, Pans. You'd never make it as a Malfoy bride. You might be ace at managing multiple estates and dealing with large incomes - " he smirked at the glint in her eye - such a mercenary little bitch - "but I could just as easily hire someone from Gringotts to handle that. No, what it really boils down to is this, Pans; if I can't stand you in bed, I'll never tolerate you as a bride. That's all there is to it."
Pansy gnawed on her lower lip, and it was all Draco could do to suppress the mental images of those lips stretched around his cock. "I would need insurance. If I do what you want and you decide to marry someone else, you'd have ruined my prospects for anyone else."
She was falling neatly into his trap. He sat back and made a show of thinking hard. "I tell you what, Pans," he said slowly, "If you prove you're up to it in the bedroom and do what I want - all of it - I will swear upon my magic that you'll get a pair of Malfoy rings by the end of the day." His eyes met hers, daring her to take the offer.
"And if I back out?" There was always a catch.
"If you back out after after I've sworn and we've started, you'll pay me your dowry."
"What?!"
He spoke slowly, so she wouldn't misunderstand - though he had no intention of letting her back out. "If I'm going to swear my magic, Pans, surely you can risk a little gold? For all I know, you'll get cold feet at first sight of a naked man."
She wibbled between desire and uncertainty; greed won out. "If you swear on your magic, then I'll do whatever you want. And if I back out, I swear I'll give you my dowry." She lifted her head and glared.
He smirked; she was his. He laid his wand on the low table between them and the fire, and splayed his fingers over it. "I swear on my magic that, if Pansy Parkinson lets me do as I wish with her today, she will wear Malfoy rings by days' end." A glow of light and a flash of sparks lit the wand briefly, in acknowledgment of the vow.
Pansy blinked, then a small smile curled her lips upwards. "What do you want?"
"Strip."
"Here?" He met her incredulous expression with a challenging gaze, leaning back against the couch insolently.
"Well, you don't have to...unless you'd rather just hand over your Gringotts account." He smiled, with a hint of teeth: a promise of the Malfoy sneer he would have in the future.
"No! I mean - " She shot a nervous, hesitant look at the door to the common room, then at Crabbe and Goyle, who were strategically positioned near the entrance. "Tell them to leave."
"That's for me to decide, isn't it? Maybe I have a voyeuristic streak and want them to watch as I give you a go. Are you going to back out?"
Greed was a wonderful motivator; she glared at him, but stood and began to unbutton her blouse quickly. Blouse, then skirt, shoes, stockings, bra, and knickers, all neatly folded and set on a chair to the side until she stood nude in front of him, defiantly; she forced her arms to her sides, letting him look his fill. Only the rising blush that spread down her neck showed her discomfort.
She's definitely ripe for picking. His cock hardened in his trousers as he let his eyes linger with heat on her full, heavy breasts; creamy skin with large dusky nipples stiffening in the chill. He didn't ask her permission, only reached out and cupped her left breast, feeling its substantial weight in his palm, soft and warm. Without warning he squeezed cruelly, enjoying the way she winced and twitched when his fingers dug in.
"Malfoys are taught to be perfect lovers," he lectured her, "considerate, fulfilling, and tenderly exquisite." He released her breast and his long fingers stroked her nipple, lingering when the caress made her tremble and lean into the touch. "But sometimes we have a darker side that needs sating. Can you stand those times?" His touch abruptly changed from gentle to cruel, seizing her nipple tightly and twisting it until she gasped and tears rose suddenly to her eyes. His other hand found her other nipple and twisted in an opposing direction, pulling them so she was forced to stumble forward, almost falling into his lap.
"Draco, that hurts!" she whined, but he only laughed.
"And what if that's what I want?" He surged to his feet and shoved her; she stepped backwards and fell, sprawling gracelessly over the low table. He picked up his wand, sliding it free of her thigh where she'd fallen on it; a quick flick of his wand at the juncture of her thigh and her pubic hair was gone; it was followed by a harsh cleaning spell that made her twitch with discomfort and embarrassment.
He twisted his wand between his fingers, looking down at her. "A man makes a lot of concessions to his wife for a peaceful household. Sometimes he needs to assert himself. Take control. Put her in her place. Can you deal with that? Maybe you should set your sights a little lower - "
His threat hit home and she stiffened, biting her lip. "No! I can handle it. Do whatever you want."
He let her lie there until she was almost writhing in embarassment and nervousness, until he relented. "And if I want to bend you over that table and spank your bare quim and call you all sorts of raunchy degrading things? And then fuck you into that table without any concern for your so-called feelings or needs?"
She flinched, but lifted her chin; her eyes showed her uncertainty and fear. "I won't stop you."
"And if I tell you to undress me, and give me my belt to whip your arse with?"
She understood his dare, and rose to it. Clumsily she sat up and fumbled at his robes, pushing them from his shoulders and letting them fall to his feet in a pool of black and emerald fabric, the Malfoy crest glinting at her from atop them. It gave her the courage to undo the buttons on his shirt and push that down his shoulders too, revealing the wide pale shoulders and the narrow waist. She faltered at his trousers, but elected to slide the stiff black leather belt from the loops before she unfastened his trousers.
She pushed trousers and pants down together, though she couldn't hide her nervous twitch when his erection slipped free of the confining material and stood proudly erect, the purpling glans half hidden by the foreskin. He smirked; he'd known just how much his robes concealed. There was a Malfoy family secret ritual, passed down to the males only - but it guaranteed no Malfoy male would be left wanting in terms of size.
Still, though she blanched, her hands were steady when she offered him his belt back. That will change, he thought cruelly, doubling the sturdy leather in his right hand. He'd picked it specially for this; it would deliver a hefty wallop. Morever, it had large raised metal studs along one side.
But first - "Accio toys!" The package he'd ordered came floating from his room and into his hand; he upended it on the couch, spilling a variety of sex toys onto the worn green plush, smirking at her nervous squeak. He chose a pair of wicked-looking toothed clamps, with attached weights and a connecting chain. He turned back to her with a wicked smile. "These can only be removed with my touch," he told her, before fastening them to her nipples, tightening them until they bit deeply into her nipples. She bit her lip, struggling to stay quiet; one sharp tug on the adjoining chain and she yelped. "The more you try to be silent, the harder I'll try to make you scream," he warned her.
"Turn around and kneel on the table," he commanded, sneering when she obeyed nervously, looking at him over her shoulder, tears in her eyes. She moved gingerly; his cock surged with lust, seeing the sway of her full breasts as she knelt, the weighted clamps pulling at her nipples.
"Don't expect you can always treat me like this, Malfoy!" Pansy told him, but she couldn't hide the tremor of uncertainty in her voice.
"Of course not," he sneered. You have no idea. He folded the belt in half with the studs on the inside, forming a heavy leather loop, and swung experimentally at her arse. He was rewarded with a nice loud crack as it hit her arse, echoed with a loud yelp.
"How many hits?" she asked, desperate to see an end.
He only raised an eyebrow, and began in earnest, filling the room with the sound of leather on skin, spacing the blows to cover her from the top of her arse to down her thighs. When he reached the crease of her thighs and arse, he flipped the belt, so the studs were on the outside, and resumed his blows, now focusing on her nude cunt.
Pansy's sobs and cries egged him on; he stopped only when his arm was tired and he was short of breath. By then her backside and thighs were flaming red, covered with wide ribbons of welts; he hmmed appreciatively when he ran his hands over her heated skin, smacking her over her quim with his palm and almost groaning when she shuddered and flinched from his touch. "All warmed up, Pans. Are you ready for me?"
She ignored him, pillowing her face in her arms and crying. "Surely I'm not that bad at this, am I?" he said in feigned disappointment. "Well, roll over then." He pushed at her hips until she fell sideways, then she sniffled and rolled onto her back, glaring at him from a tear-stained face.
"I will never forgive you for this, Draco Malfoy!" she hissed, but he smirked at her.
"Who said I wanted your forgiveness? Besides, we both get what we want. I get a fucktoy, you get permanent ties to the Malfoy name." Just not in the way you think. He rubbed his cock between her nether lips, red and swollen from repeated blows, and was amused to find her slick. "Your cunt is ready for me - who would have thought there was a masochistic painslut under that feigned modesty?"
"It's not feigned!" Draco thought the horrified look on her face was priceless.
"Count your blessings, Parkinson," he mocked, "this will be easier for you with your cunt wet and warmed up." He moved between her legs and positioned his cock at her entrance, and added with false solicitousness, "Let me know if I hurt you?"
And then he thrust in, meeting the barrier and tearing through it. Merlin! Hot, tight, slick pleasure embraced his cock as he penetrated her, and he ignored the way she arched and screamed beneath him; her feelings were inconsequential to his own pleasure.
"So good, Pans, so fucking tight," he panted, pulling out almost completely, before burying himself again, giving her no time to adjust to him. He leaned over her and braced himself with one hand, enjoying the movement of her breasts as he thrust hard into her. "How does it feel to be a woman?"
"Stop, it hurts, you bastard!" she sobbed, trying to push him away weakly. "You can have my bloody dowry, so stop, please!"
"It always hurts the first time, Parkinson," he said, a bit breathlessly, "so I figure, why bother making it good? Good for you, at least." His free hand found her right breast and toyed with the nipple, pinching the swollen nub around the toothed clamp, grinning when she sobbed and tightened around his shaft; he wasn't going to last long, he knew. She was too tight, too hot, and he'd been so turned on already.
"I'm going to come soon, Pans," he told her, his battering thrusts speeding up, "going to come inside you. Won't you like that? Maybe you'll even get pregnant with my brat - "
"No, please stop! I don't want this!"
"You - asked - for - this!" He was almost there - the tight heat was indescribable. Just a little more and he'd be pushed over the edge. He gripped the chain connecting the clamps, and saw her eyes widen in fear.
For a moment, he floundered in memory:
Draco could only stare horrified at the sight of his mother, on her hands and knees, sobbing and writhing while his father held her under the Cruciatus. "There is no room in a Malfoy for weakness, Draco," Lucius said coldly, cruelly. "I thought I had taught you that. I thought I had made every effort to raise you to understand that. Therefore, Narcissa must be the cause of your humiliating weakness."
"She didn't do anything! It's not her fault!"
"Oh, your fault, is it? Then I suppose I should be casting the Cruciatus on you?"
He swallowed around a mouth suddenly dry with fear, and stepped back; he tried to ignore the look of betrayal in his mother's eyes when he looked away.
Her screams and sobs ended abruptly and plunged the room into silence; when he looked up, Lucius' eyes pinned Draco to where he stood. "That compassion will cost you," he said, almost kindly, "Compassion will always cost you. Crucio!"
His world exploded into agony.
NO! He forced the memory away. I'm not weak like that. Not anymore. He was just like Lucius now; compassion had no place in his life. He could be just as hard and cruel.
"A Malfoy always keeps his promises, Pansy; remember that;" he panted, determined to savour the tear-streaked face, the eyes wide with pain and fear.
He pulled on the chain, hard enough to pull the clamps free, and let her screaming and writhing push him over the edge.
When he came down from the high, he pulled out of her; his white seed mixed with blood that showed she'd been a virgin. Bet that hurt. She was so fucking tight! He patted her hip, and heard her whimper.
"Don't worry, Pans, the worst is over," he said with false sympathy, as he reached for his wand. "Just the rings now. Crabbe! Goyle!" He raised his voice, shouting the last two. He smirked when Pansy shrieked and lunged for her clothes; she was so predictable. A quickly cast Incarcerous stopped her in her tracks as his two cohorts left their stations and ambled closely, eyes immediately drawn to her nude form, taking in the view hungrily.
"I need a witness to the keeping of my promise," he told them languidly. "Accio matched Malfoy rings!" A small box with the Malfoy family crest soared to his hand, and he opened it slowly.
"Damn it, Malfoy, I said I don't want to marry you anymore!" Pansy struggled against the ropes and glared at him, but the effect was ruined by her tear-blotched face. That, and the way her full breasts and swollen nipples were jiggling as she struggled.
All in all, it was almost enough to get him hard again.
"But if I broke my promise, I'd lose my magic. And a Malfoy always keeps their promises, didn't you know that?" His smile, he knew, was distinctly predatory.
He tipped the two rings into his hands; two heavy gold rings tooled with chain links in silver. Rings of bondage....a matching pair that had been in the Malfoy family for generations. Magically binding.
He held them loosely in his palm, and spoke the incantation. "With these rings, I make you mine, by blood and sweat and tears. So mote it be!" The rings flared briefly, then vanished; a moment later Pansy screamed as the spell pierced her nipples. The rings parted, threaded themselves through the new piercings, then sealed into solid rings again in a flash of light and heat.
Rings thus sealed couldn't be removed. Draco smirked and sprawled back. "Malfoy rings, Pansy;" he drawled, "marking you as my property. How do you like them?"
"Take them off!" she screamed at him, "this isn't funny anymore!"
"I don't joke, Pansy," he told her, calm even while part of his mind shuddered at what he was doing. Shut up, he told that part of himself. I can't be weak anymore.
She scrambled for her clothes when he released her, but stared, horrified, when her clothes flared into flame, and subsided into ash. "Why? What have you done to me?" She sounded broken, he thought. Better her than me.
"Why? Because they would have forced me into a marriage with you. No-one forces me. No one!" He leaned forward to emphasize his point, and was gratified when she flinched and leaned away. "I've just made sure that you can never be forced to marry me. As for the what..."
He cupped a breast in one hand, admiring the finger-shaped bruises beginning to form there, the red swollen nipple that now sported a gleaming ring. He tugged on it to see her flinch. "I've made you into my property. A slave, a fucktoy, an unpaid whore....whatever I want you to be. For what it's worth, though, Pans, I think you'll be an incredible fucktoy." He tried to ignore the fresh tears sliding down her face and the shattered, betrayed expression in her eyes. Despite the difference in color, they looked too much like his mother's had.
"You cannot physically disobey me - if I tell you to suck someone off, you will. If I tell you to bend over for someone, you will. Speaking of which - you have two virginities left, and I have some friends to reward. Which is what Crabbe and Goyle are waiting for. Crabbe, her arse is yours, and Goyle, you get her mouth. Do tell me what you think of her?" He slouched back into the couch, enjoying the crushed velvet against his bare skin - he'd have to get dressed soon, but he let himself enjoy a hedonistic moment.
"But you promised you - mmmph!"
Pansy's wailing protest was cut off abruptly by Goyle, though he only partly muffled her shriek of pain and denial when Crabbe forced his way into her arse.
Draco walled his heart with ice, and forced himself to watch his friends fuck his new toy, forced himself to find pleasure in it, stroking a slowly returning erection.
"Besides, Pansy," he told her, callously, "You know Purebloods only take virgin brides."
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