Harry Potter: Lucius/Severus
Lucius/Severus
NC17
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Lucius was used to the way the younger boy’s eyes followed him hungrily. He revelled in it, knowing that he could order him to do what he wished, and it would be done. That turned him on, as did knowing that he himself, just as he was, turned the other on. He could see the boy’s erection right now, the half-ashamed, half-excited expression on his face as he waited for his directions.
Lucius smiled.
“Kneel down.”
The boy knelt down, his head bowed in front of his master. The black hair swept the sides of his face, screening his expression from view.
“Look up.”
He looked up, the expression of naked longing clear as his eyes meet Lucius’s. Lucius felt his erection rise as he savoured his power. Power and control: a heady mix.
“Not yet,” he whispered to his slave. “Not yet. You’ll have to wait for it, you know. You don’t deserve it yet.”
The boy looked down again.
“No,” demanded Lucius, a half-smile lighting his face. “Look at me. You are to keep looking at me.”
He looked up, blinking a little as if blinded by the blond beauty of the near-man standing above him.
“Undress. No…” added Lucius as the boy made to stand up; “you can do it where you are. Stay on the floor.”
The boy fumbled with the buttons on his robe, eyes fixed pleadingly on his master.
“Go on.” Lucius bent slightly, so that his mouth was by the boy’s ear. “I want you naked at my feet.”
He watched the boy’s expression twist - he could see that he was aroused, and was humiliated too, in equal proportions. Part of the humiliation, Lucius knew, was the fact that he was enjoying this.
Lucius was the boy’s first lover: he had picked him and trained him. “Lucius’s lapdog,” they called him in the school. Everyone knew that Severus was under Lucius’s spell; they didn’t know how far it went, though. Severus would do anything - anything - Lucius wanted. And god, it felt good to be so powerful.
The boy was naked now, and practically lying at his feet. Lucius shifted his robe slightly, exposing himself. He gave a flick of his head that the boy had learned to understand; and the boy crawled forwards until he was practically under his feet. Lucius’s cold grey-blue eyes glinted as the boy kissed his feet, worshipped at the altar of Lucius Malfoy, before raising his head to the erect penis and taking it in his mouth.
Lucius stepped back slightly, teasing both the boy and himself.
“You want this, hmm?”
The boy was shaking slightly. Lucius kicked out at him.
“Answer me!”
“Yes.” The word was muffled and the head had dropped again.
“Look at me.” Lucius’s tone was hard, but it turned to melted ice as he said, the half-smile back on his lips, “And if you beg for what you want, you might just get it.”
The boy’s eyes flicked up to his lover’s, and then down again, as if he could not bear to look into that face. Lucius stepped back a little more so that he could lean against the wall and look down at the boy, one eyebrow arched. A gasp, unable to be stifled, as the boy crawled towards him, body stiff and awkward, and forced his eyes to meet Lucius’s.
“I…” The voice trembled and stopped.
Lucius folded his arms across his chest, forced himself to ignore the pulsing in his penis, and arched the eyebrow a little higher.
“What?”
“I…” The eyes fell. “Please let me…”
Lucius tired of the game. He’d be standing there all night if he waited for the boy to try and frame the words.
“Turn round. Bend over.”
The boy’s obedience, at any rate, was not to be faulted. He was on his hands and knees, bent over for Lucius, almost before he had finished speaking. But he hadn’t said what Lucius had demanded, so he would be punished.
Without warning, Lucius thrust inside him: no foreplay, no lubricant, just hard flesh ripping into soft. The boy cried out in pain, trying to choke the scream back as it came. Lucius had no mercy. He thrust again, again, once more, again. If the boy had begged him to stop, he couldn’t now. He thrust again, but the boy’s cries now had the mix of pain and lust in them, and Lucius knew that for all the pain he was causing him, Severus was getting off on this. He gentled the thrusts until the boy’s whimpers were quieter, then increased the pressure. He would have him. Oh yes, he would have him any way he wanted him.
And “Oh yes, Lucius, please, yes, please yes, please,” the only words audible among the cries from the boy; oh, that helped. And he thrust again and again, his fingers running down the boy’s back, leaving marks that he knew would not fade quickly as he went deeper, harder, hotter inside the boy until he came inside him, his breathing almost as ragged as his slave’s. And the boy, as he could not help but do, drew a sobbing breath, and with a last begging ”please!” reached his own orgasm, torn apart, bleeding, but still, always, desperate for Lucius.
And yes, even afterwards, such power felt good.
NC17
repost
Lucius was used to the way the younger boy’s eyes followed him hungrily. He revelled in it, knowing that he could order him to do what he wished, and it would be done. That turned him on, as did knowing that he himself, just as he was, turned the other on. He could see the boy’s erection right now, the half-ashamed, half-excited expression on his face as he waited for his directions.
Lucius smiled.
“Kneel down.”
The boy knelt down, his head bowed in front of his master. The black hair swept the sides of his face, screening his expression from view.
“Look up.”
He looked up, the expression of naked longing clear as his eyes meet Lucius’s. Lucius felt his erection rise as he savoured his power. Power and control: a heady mix.
“Not yet,” he whispered to his slave. “Not yet. You’ll have to wait for it, you know. You don’t deserve it yet.”
The boy looked down again.
“No,” demanded Lucius, a half-smile lighting his face. “Look at me. You are to keep looking at me.”
He looked up, blinking a little as if blinded by the blond beauty of the near-man standing above him.
“Undress. No…” added Lucius as the boy made to stand up; “you can do it where you are. Stay on the floor.”
The boy fumbled with the buttons on his robe, eyes fixed pleadingly on his master.
“Go on.” Lucius bent slightly, so that his mouth was by the boy’s ear. “I want you naked at my feet.”
He watched the boy’s expression twist - he could see that he was aroused, and was humiliated too, in equal proportions. Part of the humiliation, Lucius knew, was the fact that he was enjoying this.
Lucius was the boy’s first lover: he had picked him and trained him. “Lucius’s lapdog,” they called him in the school. Everyone knew that Severus was under Lucius’s spell; they didn’t know how far it went, though. Severus would do anything - anything - Lucius wanted. And god, it felt good to be so powerful.
The boy was naked now, and practically lying at his feet. Lucius shifted his robe slightly, exposing himself. He gave a flick of his head that the boy had learned to understand; and the boy crawled forwards until he was practically under his feet. Lucius’s cold grey-blue eyes glinted as the boy kissed his feet, worshipped at the altar of Lucius Malfoy, before raising his head to the erect penis and taking it in his mouth.
Lucius stepped back slightly, teasing both the boy and himself.
“You want this, hmm?”
The boy was shaking slightly. Lucius kicked out at him.
“Answer me!”
“Yes.” The word was muffled and the head had dropped again.
“Look at me.” Lucius’s tone was hard, but it turned to melted ice as he said, the half-smile back on his lips, “And if you beg for what you want, you might just get it.”
The boy’s eyes flicked up to his lover’s, and then down again, as if he could not bear to look into that face. Lucius stepped back a little more so that he could lean against the wall and look down at the boy, one eyebrow arched. A gasp, unable to be stifled, as the boy crawled towards him, body stiff and awkward, and forced his eyes to meet Lucius’s.
“I…” The voice trembled and stopped.
Lucius folded his arms across his chest, forced himself to ignore the pulsing in his penis, and arched the eyebrow a little higher.
“What?”
“I…” The eyes fell. “Please let me…”
Lucius tired of the game. He’d be standing there all night if he waited for the boy to try and frame the words.
“Turn round. Bend over.”
The boy’s obedience, at any rate, was not to be faulted. He was on his hands and knees, bent over for Lucius, almost before he had finished speaking. But he hadn’t said what Lucius had demanded, so he would be punished.
Without warning, Lucius thrust inside him: no foreplay, no lubricant, just hard flesh ripping into soft. The boy cried out in pain, trying to choke the scream back as it came. Lucius had no mercy. He thrust again, again, once more, again. If the boy had begged him to stop, he couldn’t now. He thrust again, but the boy’s cries now had the mix of pain and lust in them, and Lucius knew that for all the pain he was causing him, Severus was getting off on this. He gentled the thrusts until the boy’s whimpers were quieter, then increased the pressure. He would have him. Oh yes, he would have him any way he wanted him.
And “Oh yes, Lucius, please, yes, please yes, please,” the only words audible among the cries from the boy; oh, that helped. And he thrust again and again, his fingers running down the boy’s back, leaving marks that he knew would not fade quickly as he went deeper, harder, hotter inside the boy until he came inside him, his breathing almost as ragged as his slave’s. And the boy, as he could not help but do, drew a sobbing breath, and with a last begging ”please!” reached his own orgasm, torn apart, bleeding, but still, always, desperate for Lucius.
And yes, even afterwards, such power felt good.