A/N: Hello and thank you for the alerts, favs and most especially the reviews. Enjoy this next chapter!

Warnings: Please do not read on if you are underage, if you dislike non-con, chan, slash and/or incest, or like them, but cannot differentiate between what is fan fiction and what is real life. My stories are strictly for entertainment only and not to be copied or followed or taken as the truth in any which way. Got all that? Please proceed ONLY if you agree with the above.

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"Come on, Draco, make your parents proud of you!"

Draco choked back a disbelieving sob. Proud? His parents would hate him for coming between them and destroying their happy marriage! If only he dared to point his wand at this – this monster and utter the killing curse.

If only.

"Draco," Narcissa whispered, getting his attention again. "You need... moisture. Put your finger inside me."

She shifted her thighs further apart and Draco obeyed. She was dry on the outside, but he pushed further in and encountered a bit of wetness. He wriggled his finger deeper.

"Alright. Spread it around my... me. On the outside."

Draco noted the involuntary jerk she gave when his slicked fingertip grazed the round nub of flesh at the top of her nether lips. When his mind recalled the term for that as well as its purpose, a flicker of curiosity prompted him to stroke it, his gaze jerking up to Narcissa's face at her sharp inhalation.

"Again," she whispered. "Touch me there... gently. That's right."

"But won't that make you...?"

"It will be better if I am," Narcissa replied. Her cheeks were flushed pink, but her blue eyes remained steady on his.

Nodding, Draco started caressing the nub again. A strange guilty pleasure wound through him when it pulsed against his fingertip and he saw his mother's eyes flutter close.

"Going for the jugular so soon, Draco? Where are your manners?" Voldemort drawled, drawing a few more snickers from the avidly watching Death Eaters. "Do you not know about foreplay? You should give some attention to your mother's other assets first."

A greedy murmur went around the watching Death Eaters, accompanied by a muted groan or two. Draco's eyes fell to his mother's breasts, only slightly flattened by her prone position.

"Don't you want to touch them, to taste them?" Voldemort goaded.

All who were present knew it was not a question, including the three Malfoys. Draco gulped again. His mother's breasts were full and round, the skin creamy pale, the nipples rose pink. Now that he was looking at them directly, he couldn't tear his eyes away...

"Touch them. He wants you to," Narcissa whispered in a resigned tone.

Draco reached out a trembling hand to cover one breast, fingertips instinctively tightening on the pliant mound of flesh. A shiver of awareness coursed through him when the nipple stiffened further against his palm.

"Take it in your mouth," Voldemort ordered. "Taste it."

Draco didn't hesitate this time. He was bending over, mouth opening in readiness before he even realised what he was doing. Closing his lips around a taut peak, he sucked it into his mouth.

"Oh." Narcissa's back arched for a moment, pushing more of her breast into her son's mouth before she lay flat on the carpet again, holding herself rigid.

Draco barely noticed; he was busy suckling at the stiff bud in his mouth, his other hand massaging her other breast.

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Lucius stared at his wife and son in disbelief. It wasn't the first time he had seen Draco suckling at Narcissa's breast, but that was a long time ago and... not like this!

An image of sixteen years past arose in his mind's eye... Narcissa sitting up in bed, her blue silk wrapper slipping off one shoulder to reveal a swollen breast, it's nipple inside the mouth of the baby in her arms. She had glanced up at Lucius then - frozen in the doorway of their bedroom - and smiled at him, the perfect picture of maternal nurturing. She had looked bewitchingly and innocently sensual as she nursed their infant son, and Lucius had fallen in love with her all over again.

That image couldn't be any more different than the one before his eyes right now, his beloved wife lying naked on a filthy carpet while their sixteen year old son crouched between her legs, sucking greedily at one breast and groping the other. Hearing the avaricious sounds from his gloating comrades only made Lucius grind his teeth further in helpless rage. There was nothing he could do but watch, immobilised by his own fear of the Dark Lord and gagged by his spell.

"Very good, Draco, considering this is your first time," Voldemort praised. "That's enough. Narcissa must want your talented mouth somewhere else, don't you think?"

Lucius swallowed and took a step closer, two involuntary movements he had no control over. He saw Draco slowly raise his head and then his gaze was caught by a single thread of saliva connecting his son's mouth to the swollen nipple it had been ravishing.

"Go down on her," Voldemort ordered.

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For the past couple of minutes, Draco had been lost in the novel experience of playing with and tasting a woman's breasts. He didn't want to admit he had enjoyed it to the extent of even forgetting – just for a second or two – where he was and what he was doing. It was despicable and he felt his entire body flush red in shame.

Voldemort's next command filled him with even more horror. Not at the prospect of doing what the Dark Lord ordered, but at the fact that his heart was now racing with something very much like... anticipation.

To be continued…

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