Title: Bloodplay on the Hogwarts Express; another fic in the BloodPlay series
Author: Snappy Pants
Disclaimer: I own nothing, and that includes these characters. Don't try to sue me. :}
Summary: back to school never sounded so good. Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood
Rating- M for Cussing, bloodplay, slash, graphic sex and violence, PWP, sap. PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE UNDER AGE! IF ANY OF THE ABOVE FACTORS SQUICKS YOU, THAT IS WHAT THE BACK BUTTON IS FOR! I WILL NOT BE RESPONSIBLE IF YOU CONTINUE READING DESPITE THESE WARNINGS AND ARE OFFENDED, FLAMES DUE TO ANY OF THE ABOVE FACTORS WILL BE RIDICULED!
NOTE: OH MAN! this one took forever to churn out, I think because it got a little complex :P not sure if I like it, it's pretty different than the other fics, but LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!! So yes, here it is, my latest perversion, I mean story, I mean…oh fuck it. The latest perverted baby of my gutter-inhabiting mind. Enjoy, and REVIEW!!! Or I'll find you and molest you!!!!
P.S. I REALLY like the bondage position in the begining of this fic, so I'll prolly come back and play with it some more :P JUST SOS YOU'RE NOT SURPRISED IF IT COMES UP AGAIN LATRZ. As always, ideas and input are welcome.
Bloodplay on the Hogwarts Express
Marcus was standing on platform 9 ¾, trying to get rid of his parents so he could get on the Hogwarts Express and find Wood. He was bored with his parents after an entire summer, and wanted to play. Stifling yet another sigh, he rolled his eyes at the list of things he was not allowed to do that his mother gave him every fucking time they stood on this platform. He had the speech memorized by now, fuck, she probably did too.
"Hey, lover" someone whispered in his ear, the heat of their breath ghosting along his skin, a hand grazing along his ass. Marcus was suddenly paying very close attention to his surroundings (not his mother though, of course). He jerked his head around in time to catch the end of a molten gaze from Oliver. What?! His mind screamed. Since when did princess go on the offensive?! But he couldn't lie to himself, he was *very* glad he was wearing robes to hide his rapidly developing hard on from his parents, as he watched the Gryffindor keeper's ass swagger onto the train.
His mother needed to be done talking *now*. He interrupted her spiel.
"'K thanks Mom, I'll remember. Love you, 'bye." And with that he walked off in search of his lover, leaving his parents standing there, bewildered expressions on their faces.
Thud thud thud thud. Marcus was prowling through the train. Goddamn, why did they have to make these things so bloody long?! He had been searching for what felt like hours (probably only about ten minutes) for his elusive fucktoy, and NOTHING! He would not be responsible for what would happen if anyone got in his way.
He growled in frustration, yanking hands through his usually neat locks, face tinged slightly red with pent-up rage and aggression, and of course, lust. Marcus had waited all fucking summer to pound into that tight ass, and he fully intended on doing so, just as soon as he FOUND that tight ass. Another growl.
A few girls passing him on the train gave him worried looks as they passed by.
"That's so strange, we usually sit in that compartment."
"Yeah. I wonder why the door wouldn't open."
Flint spun around on his heal. "Which compartment!?" The girls almost screamed. One pointed a shaky finger towards the compartment at the very back of the train. (a/n: I know, I know, how cliché can I be, but hey, it's a cliché because it works, right?)
Marcus sprinted. Well, if anyone but a Slytherin were going this fast it would have been a sprint, but since he was a Slytherin, it was a dignified, very brisk walk. He tried the compartment door. Locked, of course.
He proceeded to try every unlocking charm he knew on the goddamn infernal door, but nothing worked.
Marcus was thoroughly pissed off. If indeed princess was in this compartment, he was in for a sound lashing. And an even more brutal fucking. Flint started muttering,
"I swear to Merlin, if this door does not open by the time I count to three, you are going to rue the day I first fucked you, princess." To his utter shock, and deep satisfaction, as soon as he uttered 'princess', the door clicked open.
Of course, even utter shock could not prepare him for the scene in the compartment, in all its macabre detail.
princess was trussed up with a black corded rope, hanging from the ceiling from his elbows, forearms bent and hands chained around his neck, knees pulled up and held open and perpendicular to his sides by another set of the black ropes, presenting his ass deliciously flexed and spread. A spreader bar stretched across his lower back, from knee to knee, keeping his legs spread and taught, a delicate looking chain reaching from the center of the bar up to his tied hands.
Marcus could do nothing but stand there for a moment and admire the contrast of the black rope and Oliver's tanned skin, unaware of the compartment door sliding shut and locking behind him. The motion of the train caused Oliver's body to swing and rock slightly, turning round until Marcus could see his head lolling forward as his soft pants filled the air, a bit of saliva trickling past his cherry lips, the whole scene framing his already-blue-balls and hard cock.
Suddenly a jolt from the train seemed to snap Oliver out of his pleasure-induced trance and his eyes closed for a second, taking a deep breath before he rolled his head up to meet Marcus' still shocked (and probably salivating) face.
They stayed there for a moment, frozen in each other's gaze until Oliver closed his eyes again, licking his lips.
"Please." Marcus could've sworn he'd never heard princess' voice so low and sexy before, as if he'd been screaming orgasms all afternoon instead of just hanging suspended for a few minutes. A salacious grin slid across his face as he took the two steps towards his suspended prize.
"Did you do this all for me, my pretty princess?" Marcus' voice was suddenly so thick and low it almost hurt to talk. He relished it as he stretched out a hand, taking his finger nail and slowly dragging it up from where princess' leg met his groin, up up up, circling around a nipple before pinching it brutally, and finally up to wrap his hand around the panting neck.
Marcus leaned in, unable to resist the sweet pull and panting flesh of Oliver's neck, sinking his teeth into the soft skin there. Oliver let out a strangled moan, choking on his breath as he struggled not to hyperventilate from the stimulation. He was going to cum without even being touched, he just knew it.
"However did you plan this, my devious little pet?" Marcus spoke softly, his breath ghosting along Oliver's neck and face. "Did you spend all summer dreaming this up? Collecting a bit of rope this week, ordering the spreader bar next week? Your pulse speeding up and your breath coming faster as you looked at each new addition to your toybox. Wondering how I'd react to your audacious little plan, if I'd beat your or fuck or? Or both, my little cake eater?"
Oliver's eyes were rolling back in his head, he wanted to scream and beg but couldn't get enough air into his lungs. He wanted to scream and plead and beg, confess and cry and moan. Anything but stay trapped on this razor edge between the before and the beginning of a game, between anticipation and the intoxicating rush of the first lash.
Marcus chuckled softly to himself as a deliciously evil idea occurred to him. "You're going to have to choose, princess. Choose, as your punishment for your audacious little plan. Which do you need more, pet? A beating or a fucking? I can't let you have both, my greedy little princess, else you'll grow fat on pleasure and pain. I can't let you become too spoiled and soft." His hand caressed a soft thigh before digging nails in just enough to make princess choke, "So. Tell me, princess, tell me which you choose."
Oliver let out a sob. Choose? How on earth could he choose when his entire body was screaming for both after a summer of nothing?! He was tortured, just by the thought, but they both knew which he would pick. Which made his skin crawl off his body with need.
"Beat me."
Nails sunk into Oliver's thigh as Marcus wasted no time, a grin stretching his face as princess threw his head back. Marcus brought his other hand up to princess' shoulder blades, dragging both sets of nails cruelly across all the flesh he could reach, sinking teeth into the juncture of neck and chest.
Oliver's breathing sped up as he felt blood start to trickle down his back, erection momentarily forgotten in the sweet pleasure of the ragged tearing of his skin. Marcus stepped back, admiring the beauty of princess when he was lost in the game like this, teeth marks at his neck and blood on his thigh.
Without warning he reached and spun princess around, refusing to blindfold his pet but not wanting to let him see him either. He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the toys he had collected over the summer, restoring it to its actual size after it had been shrunk. A step back and he swung, reveling in the SMACK of leather-covered wood on flesh, smirking at the marks left on smooth skin.
"Count, princess." A hitched inhale and slight nod his only response.
"One….tuh-two…..three-ee-ah!.....f-four…" princess counted as the blows rained down on his back and ass and thighs, eyes rolling back in his head as the welts overlapped the scratches on his shoulders and blood trickled down into other red marks. He felt stinging all over, as if his skin were alive and helping to torture him, squirming and gasping for breath. There wasn't enough oxygen in the room. He wanted to plead for more and beg for mercy. He felt alive.
"ten…e-ele-eleven…"
Then it stopped. A gentle hand prodded and dug into the welts on his back as he was turned back around.
"Did you enjoy that, my pretty princess? Are you enjoying your beating?" he couldn't find his voice in time. "Answer me!" A sharp smack to his face.
"Yes, Master." Barely above a whisper, but it seemed to satisfy Marcus.
"Good." His lips were claimed in a soft kiss, gentle but thorough. "Do you know what your newest toy does, pet?"
He answered more quickly, his mind coming back to him. "No, Master."
"I had it made special." hot breath ghosted up his neck, "Clever, really. Every time I smack your pretty flesh it leaves a mark, and do you know what that mark is, princess?"
"No, Master."
"It says SLUT, in nice, big bold letters, all across your back." Marcus stepped behind Oliver to tongue said markings, enjoying the feel of princess' heated skin. Oliver's eyes went wide in disbelief.
Oliver twisted up and moaned and smacks covered what little skin wasn't already red with welts, layering the stinging slaps of his Master's palm over the words that marked him owned. His eyes started to roll back into his head, mind almost that perfect white static, when Master stopped again.
princess felt himself slowing lowered and united, Master dressed him, his clothing almost unbearable against the raw flesh. A possessive kiss was placed on his mouth.
"We're here, princess. Time for the feast." And with that Marcus got up and left, the softened smirk he sent back at princess from the doorway unnoticed.
Oliver lay there, panting, the switch from game to reality to fast and abrupt. He resented reality, and feast, pouting as his game was ruined just as it was starting to get good. He twitched and hissed as he stood up. This was going to be a long feast to have to sit through….
Marcus admitted to himself that, yes, his plan was brilliant, but he would have much rather skipped the plan and the feast and stayed in the train compartment to give princess everything he wanted. He consoled himself with the knowledge that it was going to get much, much better before it was over….
Oliver was angry. Angry that he had to sit there in this fucking hall with a stinging ass and still horny as hell. His plan had not gone accordingly, and he couldn't figure out why! He had done everything perfectly, the set up, the ropes, even the littlest bit of a tease on the platform.
The feast was finally over and he was stalking back to the tower, well ahead of the rest of the students who were finishing up dessert. A body collided with his and he was pushed roughly into a broom cupboard just off the great hall.
"What the…" He spun around, angry as hell as his sore back was pressed against the rough stone wall. The angry retort died on his lips as he came face to face with a smirking Marcus.
"you didn't think we were finished, did you?" A teasing slap across the face. "Oh no, princess. But I had to let you suffer, just enough."
Oliver couldn't take it anymore. This afternoon had turned into one roller coaster after another. His back stung just enough to keep him uncomfortable, but not enough to satisfy. And he was so hungry, so hungry for his Master's touch after a summer of nothing. A tear trickled down the side of his face.
"Please." He looked up onto Marcus' face. "Please, Master. Please." Marcus melted just a little. Good thing this was part of the plan anyway, he thought as he cupped the side of Oliver's face, kissing away the tears.
"Hush. Hush now, pet. I know what you need, pet. I'll take care of you, my pretty, pretty princess." He smiled as princess let out a grateful sob against his neck, face cradled on his shoulder.
He slid his hands down princess' back, laid one more gentle kiss on his face, and pulled his nails brutally up the tender skin. Oliver let loose a quiet scream.
"Ssshhhh, princess. Wouldn't want all the students to hear, now would we?" Oliver's eyes went wide at the order to be quite. He bit his tongue and screamed against his Master's shoulder.
A hand hooked up and under one of his knees and Oliver realize their clothes had been vanished, grinding shamelessly against Marcus as he felt a quick lubrication charm and the brutal, burning push of penetration.
"Fuck…fuck, princes," it was Oliver's turn to smirk as he clenched his muscles and twisted his hips.
"Quiet…..Master…" he laughed and gasped as he was soundly smacked for his smart-alecky comment.
Oliver bit into his hand and screamed as Marcus soundly fucked him into the wall, welts rubbed raw and bleeding against the stone, the perfect play of hurt and damn good sex.
"You….have been…..a very……very….naughty…..princess," Marcus panted, before locking their mouths together and slamming against the wall once more, muffling each other's screams as they came.
They slid slowly to the floor and the sounds of students passing by outside could be heard, laughing and joking, over the panting in the broom closet. They lay there unto Oliver's leg, still hooked over Marcus' arm, started to cramp and Marcus slowly pulled back and sat against the wall next to him, carelessly waving his wand as their clothes magically reappeared.
"Come on, princess. No one will notice your missing for a while yet." They stood and walked (slowly hobbled, in Oliver's case) to the Slytherin common room, Marcus casting a See-Me-Not charm on Oliver(a/n: I know this doesn't exist, but I needed them to be able to sneak somehow :P) as they made their way up to his room and curled up in bed.
Just before they fell asleep, hangings drawn, Oliver's raw back pressed comfortingly against Marcus' warm chest, Marcus kissed his ear and asked,
"How ever did you get yourself tied up like that on the train?" Oliver smirked.
"Magic."