January 17, 2018

A short, sharp tap on the black leather-bound book- the correct secret word- and the bricks of my fireplace began to shift and stack to the side, revealing my private chambers.

It had been a long day. I had contended with a double lesson of sixth years before lunch and double first years to end the day. At least no one had been sent to the hospital wing though, and that was a rare treat on Thursdays; what with sixth year students' apparent need for grievous bodily harm during duels and first years' lack of competency in controlling most spells. All in all, I was in high spirits.

It had very little to do with my disaster-free classes.

My heart quickened as I stepped over the threshold into my bedroom, undoing the clasp on my robe and letting it fall down off my shoulders. My eyes sought and locked instantly on the figure leaning casually against my dresser – finally, my pet was back where he belonged.

Harry Potter looked up from his shoes, a coy grin stretched across his face. In the paparazzi photos snapped and plastered in the Daily Prophet, the man looked tired, withdrawn and old. But as he stood before me, he seemed ten years younger. His eyes lit up like a boy as he grinned, shoving his thumbs into his pockets.

"Master," Harry said, pushing himself away from the solid wood table.

I had to resist the smile trying to break out on my mouth and swallowed the urge to run over and kiss the dark-haired man hard on the lips. Instead I cocked my eyebrow nonchalantly, hung my robe up on the coat stand beside the once-again solid brick wall, and gave Harry a slow once-over. I took all of him in, from the dirty grey sneakers to the wild, short hair sticking out this way and that. Finally, I shrugged, feigning disinterest and flicking my wrist.

"You're not with your wife anymore, bitch," I said as a small, brown leather collar shot out from a drawer behind Harry and landed in my open hand. I took a few deliberate steps closer and tossed it at his chest. "Show some respect."

Harry caught the small object reflexively and instantly dropped to his knees. His grin was gone and a hitched, expectant gaze replaced it. I stooped to catch the strong chin in my fingers, ghosting my lips over Harry's as I breathed, "and you're wearing far too much clothing."

Wordlessly, Harry stripped. He lifted his shirt over his head and tosses it aside, revealing taught, tanned skin and a distinct thin trail of dark hair retreating down underneath his beltline. I leant back and watched as the Golden Boy's buckle was unclipped with eager ease and his jeans button was flicked open.

I pressed the toe of my shoe against Harry's knee as soon as his fly was undone and he was about to wriggle the denim down his legs. "That will do, keep them on for now," I smirked, satisfied of the teasing view. "Did you bring what I asked for?"

Harry nodded and pointed at a forgotten satchel bag lying at the foot of my bed.

"Answer me when I talk to you, pet," I said, my eyes snapping back from the bag to glare at my submissive. I slid my shoe up Harry's thigh and rest warningly against his crotch.

"I did, Master," Harry choked out, his breath hitching slightly as my shoe pressed into him in such a vulnerable area. He didn't move though, he was a good pet, even if he did sometimes forget to do the right thing.

"Fetch."

Harry complied, waiting until I removed my shoe to shuffle forward on his knees the way he knew I liked to see him move around. I resisted the growl of arousal creeping up my throat as he arched his back teasingly and rummaged through the bag to retrieve two unopened ink bottles. When he was back in his rightful place at my feet I levitated the ink bottles out of his hand, looking down at his half naked body with pleasure; no matter how many photographs I received in the post they would never compare to the real thing.

"Good boy," I praised Harry, running a hand through the coarse, thick ebony tresses and smirking as the hair stuck out even worse than before. I'd never tell him I thought his messy hair was adorable. "Pants off, and on the bed."

I watched him as he stood, pushed his jeans and briefs down his thighs and stepped out of the pile of clothes pooled around his ankles. The dark trail of hair on his belly no longer disappeared out of site, instead it made a definite path down his flat abdomen and connected to the trimmed tuft of pubes nestled around his cock – his cock that, I was pleased to see, was already beginning to swell with blood. Harry sat naked on the stark white sheets, his legs tucked under himself waiting patiently for me to begin. It hadn't even been that long since our last encounter but I couldn't tear my eyes from the beautiful slopes and angles of his naked form, drinking in all that he was; subdued and open for me like a flower in full bloom. It made my stomach flip with anticipation.

I edged closer to the bed, catching the floating bottles and discarding my wand on the side table; it was always more fun to do things with your own hands. As many things there were I was dependant on my magic, this was not one of them. Harry's eyes followed me intently as I stopped when my knees touched the edge of the mattress.

"Come," I instructed, pointing to the spot right before me on the sheets and the man promptly slid over until he was mere inches from my own body. I could feel the heat radiating off his golden skin, the scent of his shampoo reaching my nostrils enticingly; Harry hair always smelled the same – coconut and almonds. Whether this was his or his wife's preference I neither knew nor cared for the answer, it was so him. I used my free hand to run my fingers over his hair, from the front hairline to his nape. Once, slowly, then again more forceful and deliberate. I tangled his hair between my knuckles and pulled back to expose his Adam's apple above the leather collar, studying his face. Harry kept his eyes on my chest, his lashes fluttering uncertainly as I stared down at him. I had taught him about eye contact and my expectations for such things. Eye contact was too personal, it caused intimacy and problems that I just didn't want to have to deal with, so Harry was not allowed to look me in the eye when we played.

"Tell me you want me."

Harry's body twitched at my order, and he licked his lips. "I want you, Master."

"Tell me you want me," I repeated, my grip on the crown of his hair tightening to painful. He winced but didn't miss a beat.

"I want you so bad, Master, please."

"Good," I said, and began to settle in to the dynamic of our relationship. "Do you remember your safeword, pet?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry spoke with slight difficulty from his neck being jarred so far back.

"Tell me."

"Dursley."

I sniggered under my breath, the appropriateness never having been lost on me. "Good boy." I released my hold on his hair and resumed petting him like a dog, stroking his head languidly. Harry nuzzled into my touch as my hand brushed his cheek. "You're my good boy, aren't you? My pet."

Harry nodded and made a simpering noise and protruded a shy, pink tongue lick my palm affectionately. I pulled my hand away gently and reached for one of the ink bottles still in my other hand, discarding it to the bedside table and cracking the lid on the one still in my grasp. Harry's interest perked at the noise and he looked curiously at the bottle. I smirked and answered his question, "I'm going to draw on you like my own canvas. Mark your pretty naked skin and show the world you belong to me. Now look up, head right back."

Harry tilted his head, his eyes fixed on the green drapery hanging above the bed. I lifted the ink bottle until it was just above his hairline, and poured a small amount of the black contents out. It dripped quickly down into his hair, making the already ebony strands slick like oil. Small beads found their way on his forehead, making a path down his temples. I tilted the bottle again, watching more ink flow out, and ran my other hand through his hair. The ink sprayed up, and back onto the stark white of the sheets and making a spattered pattern behind him. I studied the already drying black lines running down the sides of his face, intrigued at the way gravity pulled them downward, making little puddles of black on his collarbones. I had no doubt his back and ass was now marked with the same little lines from the excess run-off from his hair. I flicked my tongue over my lips, tempted to follow the ink-trails with my mouth; the contrast was erotic, enticing. Different to the pink and red marks I normally made with my other toys or my bare hands.

"Now sit back," I instructed, wandering over to my desk as Harry shuffled back ever so slightly and leant back on his hands. I picked up my peacock feather and made my way back over, dipping the tip into the bottle and allowing the tube to soak up as much as it could. I drew it back, hovering over Harry's bare chest and watched in fascination as a droplet fell and splashed onto his pectoral, quickly plummeting down and over his budded nipple, staining it black. Harry gasped quietly at the sensation, his own gaze locked onto his chest, watching as I was. I looked back to where my quill was poised, concentrating on my task at hand. The tip touched Harry's skin just underneath his collarbone as I began to write in messy cursive right across the expanse of his torso: Property of Master. I dipped my quill again and added a crude representation of the Malfoy family crest right over his sternum. Once completed, I sat back to check my progress and grinned at the sight. It was missing something but. I discarded the quill and poured a small amount of ink onto my palm, rubbing my hands together and coating them both. Deliberately slowly, I ran one finger down the middle of his torso, past his navel and then pressed my hand against the bare skin, making a perfect hand print on his lower abdomen. I pressed my other hand over his left pectoral, leaving another hand print over his heart. The sight made my skin prickle and my cock twitched interestedly. I couldn't stop myself from imagining what an inky face slap would look and feel like… but out of personal preference, face slapping was a punishment, not an enjoyable experience for my pet.

I dipped my finger into the fast depleting ink and wrote WHORE in big letters across his solar plexus, covering all the skin between his navel and sternum. Then I emptied the last of the ink into his bellybutton and made lazy circular patterns over his stomach until it dried completely. Every time I ran my finger down onto his hip bones or his lower abdomen, his muscles tensed and his cocked twitched again. I could hear his breathing low and steady, like he was forcing himself to stay calm as I touched his body so teasingly slow. The tip of his cock dripped with a small amount of precum but I ignored it. I wasn't done yet.

"Get on all fours," I said, collecting my other ink bottle. He did and the sight made my mouth go temporarily dry. Photos never did Harry's ass justice. The shape, the colour, the teasing dark ring of muscle drawing my attention in as it clenched and puckered in excitement. I stared for a moment, tracing the lines of his asshole down to his balls hanging between thick, muscular thighs with my eyes. I loosened the tie on my dress pants, needing to release some of the tension as my cock strained against its confines. Harry bent his head down, looking underneath his arms to see what I was doing and wriggled his ass impatiently. I smirked and knelt down onto the bed behind him, taking his balls into one hand and squeezing threateningly.

"Don't be such a needy slut," I chided, feeling his whole body tense as I gripped him.

"But, Master," Harry gasped, pushing back against my forearm resting between his ass cleavage. "I am, I am your needy little slut." His voice came out muffled as he buried his face in sheets, still trying to touch as much of me as he could with his backside.

"Well," I released his genitals, "at least you're honest, pet." Without warning, I raised my open palm and brought it down hard against the soft, tan flesh of his buttock. The sound cracked through the room, bouncing around the cement walls, and a shiver ran down my spine. Such a beautiful noise. And it was coupled by a surprised yelp by Harry as he jerked forward at the unexpected assault. I mimicked my first slap with one on his other ass cheek, forming two lovely pink patches over the soft globes. I grabbed my ink, pouring a portion onto my hands again and grabbed his hip with one, leaving a messy black smudge over his skin.

"Count them," I said as the flat of my palm met his ass again, and this time ink transferred in a chaotic fashion, small beads flinging themselves outward and onto my own body.

Harry gasped again, "one." He straightened his back, lifting his head and attempting to peek over his shoulder. I didn't allow him time before I brought my hand down upon him again, starting a steady pace of ink-splattered spankings.

"Two – three- four- fuck, five- six-" he continued to count up to ten on each cheek, punctuated with moans and gasps as I brought my hand down harder with each hit. His backside glowed pink underneath the dark handprints taking up most of the space. The contrast of his golden skin, black ink and hot pink marks impressed me more than any artist's painting could. I sat and watched as Harry breathed in and out, silently waiting for my next move – not knowing if it would be hard or tender. I reapplied the ink to my hands, pressed them both against his shoulder blades and dragged them slowly down his back, watching my handprints stretch and distort as I elongated the touch. When I reached his hips I grabbed the sides fully and dug my nails in and, unable to resist any more, wrenching his ass up against my crotch and grinding my cock against him. The delicious friction pulled a groan from my throat and Harry echoed my voice, hissing and falling to his elbows.

"Master, please," Harry begged, the urgency in his voice as clear as veritaserum. "I've waited so long already."

I bit my lip as his words hit truth for me as well. As much as I would have liked to extend our playtime, I longed to feel him from the inside. I could always play with him after if I wanted. "Alright pet," I conceded, reaching for my wand and casting a quick cleaning charm on my hands, "I'm not going to make you wait tonight."

I leant over Harry, shoving one hand in his face while the other worked on discarding my pants. Without needing to be instructed, Harry took my fingers into his mouth and began sucking and coating them with saliva.

"Good little bitch," I sighed, letting his tongue work my fingers and allowing my mind to wander. I would need to have my cock sucked by that talented mouth eventually, but now was not the time. I pulled my hand away and quickly shoved it between Harry's arse cheeks, loving how he arched his back and enhancing my view. With my middle finger I teased his tight, puckered muscle and groaned inwardly as I pushed passed it with little to no effort. Harry gasped and pressed back into my hand while I worked more of my digit inside of him.

"Mmmm, Master," Harry moaned, grasping at the no longer clean white sheet beneath him . "Please, you said you wouldn't make me wait."

"Have I ever lied?" I said in a hard tone, retracting my hand. "I know what you want, and you'll get it when I fucking say you will, don't hurry me." I reached for a small bottle of lube sitting on the bedside table and, making sure Harry was still burying his face in his arms, quickly slathered a generous amount onto my hardness.

Harry whimpered, "I'm sorry Master, I didn't mean to, I just-"

"I know, pet," my voice softened as I cut in, contrasting the movement of my body as I aligned my cock to his entrance and pushed until the tip was fully enveloped inside him. Harry howled at the sudden intrusion, but it was mixed with a groan of relief.

"Fuck!" he moaned, "yes, fuck, I've missed you Master."

I threaded one hand through his messy hair, tangling between the locks in a rough, affectionate way and waited for him to adjust. The heat from his ass surrounded the head of my cock like a blanket of heat and I bit my lip, suddenly remembering exactly how good Harry felt on my dick.

"That's it baby, push back against me, fuck me with your ass," I encouraged as he began to rock his hips back and forth, working slowly, taking more and more of my shaft inside him until he was completely full. My nails dug into the sides of Harry's hips as his rhythm built momentum and I allowed a moment to lose myself inside my pet, feeling the desperate ache for release slowly growing in the pit of my stomach. The soft flesh gave way underneath my fingers and a small gasp escaped Harry's throat as small droplets of blood crept to the surface around my nails. I released my grip, winding my fingers around his collar and yanking him up, pushing his ink-splattered back flush against my chest and buried my teeth into the skin stretched so attractively across his collarbone.

"Master," Harry choked out, the leather band constricting his adam's apple. He grasped back behind him to touch my sides as I took control, picking up the pace and slamming into him with hard, unforgiving thrusts.

"Touch yourself," I growled between my teeth, still bruising his skin in a selfish desire to visibly mark Harry as my property. He complied, clamping on hand around himself and tugging at his cock in time with my movements.

It only took a minute more and he began to tremble, his jerks becoming jarred and clumsy and he came screaming my title. As the last drops of cum shot out from his cock he collapsed forward, unable to hold himself up any longer and I followed without missing a beat. He hit the mattress face first and I drove his ass down, fucking him into the blankets mercilessly, my orgasm peaking as his muscles pulsed and pulled me over the edge. I came inside him, swearing like a sailor and taking the shell of his ear into my mouth, groaning and biting down. For the second time I felt blood trickle from him, this time onto my lip. He yelped and I sucked on the wound, having half a mind to almost feel bad. But instead I closed my eyes and enjoyed the tingling sensation rolling through my body for a moment longer. I then pulled out, unceremoniously wiping the cum off my dick on Harry's arse cheek before stepping off the bed.

I looked down at the mess I had made – such a pretty, wretched sight – and smirked. It was always fun, having my pet for the night.

"Get up," I barked, "You're making my bed look fucking filthy."

And I watched him as slowly, his head bowed, he rose, and began searching for his clothes.