Title: I Lied
Author: Haunted Dreams
Rating: R (rape, incest, violence)
Originally done for the Malfoy Fuh-Q Quest (lucius.is.dreaming.org)
Scenario: "(Someone) gets caught in a lie."
Thank you's: Moonlight Knight for the Beta. Daniel, my husband, for the Bunny.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER....which sucks. But I am making no money off of this...so really, you'll get nothing if you sue. Sorry.
Feedback is craved for! hp_slash_author213@yahoo.com
***
I am perfect. Flawless. Desirable.
I know of your envy. You want me. You want to *be* me. You want to know what it feels like to look into the mirror and see perfect beauty, faultless flawlessness. You yearn to see crystal blue eyes stare back at you while you comb back the pale blonde locks of hair. You desire to see that beautiful white skin exposed as you dress for the day, or undress for the night. You ache to feel the black silk sheets envelope the creamy skin you have yet to become accustomed to. You would kill to hear the sultry voice moan your name in the height of passion as unspeakable acts become priority as you reach the peak of climax.
Being the semi-intelligent being you are, you have realized that this can only be a fantasy of yours. You can never be me. I will always be perfect. I will always be above you.
That is why you did what you did, is it not? I brought out the truth, and it pained you so much that you took revenge on me. You took shameless advantage of me when I could not protect myself. You entered my room in the dead of night, eyes blazing from the letter I wrote and left for you to find.
I sat there, against the black carved headboard, and you simply stood there, gazing down at your only heir. Then as quickly as you had come, you struck. I first felt the blow to my head. Ah, you are using that cane of yours I see. Blow after blow, I feel the bruises beginning to form on my arms, legs, stomach. There is a loud, resounding slap, then a painful sting. You never slapped my face before. Always on other parts of my body, the parts that can be easily covered by cloth and not seen.
My hand goes to cover the quickly reddening and bruising cheek. You grab the silver hair, much like your own, and yank me painfully to the floor, nearly throwing me in the process. What is your plan? Hm? Why are you undoing my clothing, father? This is a new act in the play. Never have you ventured down that corridor.
My clothing comes apart quickly, too quickly, for you are tearing the delicate material in your haste. There now. My body is laid bare before you, on the hard tiled floor. You remove your robe, revealing your imperfect body, as if trying to convince yourself that I am not as perfect as I said.
Yes, we share similar characteristics. The silver hair and blue eyes. Your hair is long, easily tangled, almost brittle in your age. Mine, on the other hand, is short and kept in strict style throughout the day. Your eyes have dulled, from a blue to an almost smoky silver. My crystal blue eyes greet and destroy all at once, one of my best assets. You may have an advantage of height on me, but I have the muscle of numerous Quidditch practices, yet I retain that elegant beauty, the lust of many. My voice is seductive, sultry. Yours is rough with anger, almost gruff.
You mumble something about angels belonging in heaven, not on earth. I barely have time to comprehend this as you take me. No preparation. No hesitation. This is a side of you I certainly have never seen before.
There is no love, no admiration, no other emotion but anger in this coupling and I expected nothing less. We are, after all, Malfoy.
I feel a peculiar liquid sensation stemming from where you are currently tearing me apart. I am not surprised to see your disgusted reaction when you too notice my blood running down my legs. You mumble something about the 'first time' being rough and sometimes bloody. I can only smile at that.
I am torn from my memories when you fiercely kiss me. Your tongue invades my mouth, tasting all you can. You suddenly pull away from my mouth, and it seems like you are on the verge of orgasm. This is my moment.
"Am I what you imagined, father?" No response. I did not expect one.
I watch your face as you begin to come. Your body stiffens and you shudder powerfully. I feel your liquid enter me, and am disgusted.
After moments of bliss, you pull away. You stand and redress and are on the way to the door when I begin to stand, still sore from the encounter.
At the door, you turn to me. "I think I have just proven your imperfections." "How?" I ask, almost bored while conjuring new bed clothes for myself.
"You submitted yourself to me. If you truly were perfect, as you said, you would have fought to keep your virginity. Perfection means purity, Draco. I have forever stolen that from you."
"Your son really is perfect, Lucius."
He looks at me curiously, I can sense a spark of anger at being addressed by his first name.
I detransform, the Polyjuice wearing off. The perfection melting away into something much less. "As you can see…"
"But…you…you signed the letter as Draco…you…are, *were*, Draco just seconds ago…how?" He stammers, not like him at all.
"It's easy, Lucius. In fact, I can sum it up in two words."
"Which are?"
"I lied."
~Fin~
*****
Additional Author's Note: People have asked "Who was it, if it wasn't Draco?" Well...I know who *I* had in mind ^_~
Feedback please! hp_slash_author213@yahoo.com
Author: Haunted Dreams
Rating: R (rape, incest, violence)
Originally done for the Malfoy Fuh-Q Quest (lucius.is.dreaming.org)
Scenario: "(Someone) gets caught in a lie."
Thank you's: Moonlight Knight for the Beta. Daniel, my husband, for the Bunny.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER....which sucks. But I am making no money off of this...so really, you'll get nothing if you sue. Sorry.
Feedback is craved for! hp_slash_author213@yahoo.com
***
I am perfect. Flawless. Desirable.
I know of your envy. You want me. You want to *be* me. You want to know what it feels like to look into the mirror and see perfect beauty, faultless flawlessness. You yearn to see crystal blue eyes stare back at you while you comb back the pale blonde locks of hair. You desire to see that beautiful white skin exposed as you dress for the day, or undress for the night. You ache to feel the black silk sheets envelope the creamy skin you have yet to become accustomed to. You would kill to hear the sultry voice moan your name in the height of passion as unspeakable acts become priority as you reach the peak of climax.
Being the semi-intelligent being you are, you have realized that this can only be a fantasy of yours. You can never be me. I will always be perfect. I will always be above you.
That is why you did what you did, is it not? I brought out the truth, and it pained you so much that you took revenge on me. You took shameless advantage of me when I could not protect myself. You entered my room in the dead of night, eyes blazing from the letter I wrote and left for you to find.
I sat there, against the black carved headboard, and you simply stood there, gazing down at your only heir. Then as quickly as you had come, you struck. I first felt the blow to my head. Ah, you are using that cane of yours I see. Blow after blow, I feel the bruises beginning to form on my arms, legs, stomach. There is a loud, resounding slap, then a painful sting. You never slapped my face before. Always on other parts of my body, the parts that can be easily covered by cloth and not seen.
My hand goes to cover the quickly reddening and bruising cheek. You grab the silver hair, much like your own, and yank me painfully to the floor, nearly throwing me in the process. What is your plan? Hm? Why are you undoing my clothing, father? This is a new act in the play. Never have you ventured down that corridor.
My clothing comes apart quickly, too quickly, for you are tearing the delicate material in your haste. There now. My body is laid bare before you, on the hard tiled floor. You remove your robe, revealing your imperfect body, as if trying to convince yourself that I am not as perfect as I said.
Yes, we share similar characteristics. The silver hair and blue eyes. Your hair is long, easily tangled, almost brittle in your age. Mine, on the other hand, is short and kept in strict style throughout the day. Your eyes have dulled, from a blue to an almost smoky silver. My crystal blue eyes greet and destroy all at once, one of my best assets. You may have an advantage of height on me, but I have the muscle of numerous Quidditch practices, yet I retain that elegant beauty, the lust of many. My voice is seductive, sultry. Yours is rough with anger, almost gruff.
You mumble something about angels belonging in heaven, not on earth. I barely have time to comprehend this as you take me. No preparation. No hesitation. This is a side of you I certainly have never seen before.
There is no love, no admiration, no other emotion but anger in this coupling and I expected nothing less. We are, after all, Malfoy.
I feel a peculiar liquid sensation stemming from where you are currently tearing me apart. I am not surprised to see your disgusted reaction when you too notice my blood running down my legs. You mumble something about the 'first time' being rough and sometimes bloody. I can only smile at that.
I am torn from my memories when you fiercely kiss me. Your tongue invades my mouth, tasting all you can. You suddenly pull away from my mouth, and it seems like you are on the verge of orgasm. This is my moment.
"Am I what you imagined, father?" No response. I did not expect one.
I watch your face as you begin to come. Your body stiffens and you shudder powerfully. I feel your liquid enter me, and am disgusted.
After moments of bliss, you pull away. You stand and redress and are on the way to the door when I begin to stand, still sore from the encounter.
At the door, you turn to me. "I think I have just proven your imperfections." "How?" I ask, almost bored while conjuring new bed clothes for myself.
"You submitted yourself to me. If you truly were perfect, as you said, you would have fought to keep your virginity. Perfection means purity, Draco. I have forever stolen that from you."
"Your son really is perfect, Lucius."
He looks at me curiously, I can sense a spark of anger at being addressed by his first name.
I detransform, the Polyjuice wearing off. The perfection melting away into something much less. "As you can see…"
"But…you…you signed the letter as Draco…you…are, *were*, Draco just seconds ago…how?" He stammers, not like him at all.
"It's easy, Lucius. In fact, I can sum it up in two words."
"Which are?"
"I lied."
~Fin~
*****
Additional Author's Note: People have asked "Who was it, if it wasn't Draco?" Well...I know who *I* had in mind ^_~
Feedback please! hp_slash_author213@yahoo.com