-1Prince Charming

Draco Malfoy sulked over a sheet of parchment. Detention was something he was above; Professor Snape usually made sure he wasn't stuck in some dusty classroom being punished. But apparently it was considered bad form to charm Neville Longbottom's quill to attack his face. Damn funny, thought Malfoy, as Professor Flitwick pattered about on his tiny legs, rifling through boxes of unknown content.

"Malfoy," snapped Flitwick, "get over here and help me pick this box up."

Draco pulled himself out of his seat with a groan and dragged his feet over to were the tiny man stood. As he bent over to pick up a box, the tiny half-goblin smacked his behind.

"Agh!" Malfoy screamed.

"Hush, boy." Flitwick breathed, "You have a Quidditch game tonight, don't you?"

Malfoy nodded slowly.

"You can still play, but I would need convincing." Flitwick whispered softly.

Malfoy's eyes widened and what very little colour he had left fled quickly from his face as Flitwick unbuttoned his trousers.

"P-professor…" Malfoy began, but was cut off by his thoughts. If I don't play, Potter will win that damned cup.

Malfoy swallowed his inner protestations back and clambered onto his knees. Flitwick was stood on an old box, his bulge level with Draco's face. Malfoy tentatively took Flitwick's surprising length out and stared at it for quite some time. Malfoy had always imagined what sucking another man off would feel like; he had been with girls and never really enjoyed it. Malfoy cocked his head to one side and looked at Flitwick, not feeling at all ashamed anymore. Flitwick softly brushed Malfoy's platinum hair from his face, looking into the boy's eyes, before he pushed his head slightly forward until Malfoy's soft, pale lips brushed the tip of him. Malfoy, not resisting, opened his lips slightly to allow the \Professor into the dark wetness of his mouth.

"Good boy." Flitwick sighed, patting Malfoy slightly on the head.

Malfoy sucked diligently away at Flitwick's hard member, enjoying the feeling of safety that came from surrendering himself to this older man. As Malfoy gathered speed, he swallowed Flitwick deeper into his mouth, nearly gagging at points on his length. Flitwick began to thrust himself lightly with every suck Malfoy made, running his fingers lightly through the eburnean mop of the pallid boy knelt before him.

Malfoy felt Flitwick grow tense and harder, knowing the Professor was about to cum for him. With a low moan, Malfoy felt the gush of pearlescent liquid filling his mouth; warm and salty, yet oddly satisfying. Feelings of pride and self-glorification swept through Malfoy as he played with the concoction in his mouth before gulping it down. Flitwick gazed contentedly at the boy and wiped a final, tiny opal of cum from his grinning lips.

"Off you trot, Malfoy, or you shall be late for you little game." Flitwick smiled, tucking himself back into his trousers.

|Malfoy, returning from the floor, smirked a little, licked his lips, and strode off, head high.