The News, Part Six

For: Baroque Isabella, .Blaise Ron Shippers., Pie Junkie, Maurizio di Lacartes, and Heartbrokenalloveragain

SERIES: HP
PAIRING: Harry/Draco
REQUEST: con't "The News" – cuffs and leather.
WORD COUNT: 1942

NOTE: I had time to do this, since I dropped a class. Life should be easier now. Not quite a lemon, but very…dirty thinking. Attempted lemon, I guess I should say. Not all things work out as planned, you know?

And I'll get around to replying to LJ comments after my shower – sorry to those of you who've been waiting.

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For a time, Harry was content with Draco's new-found submission. For a time, he was even happy with it. Sure, it was somewhat bland to have at it with someone who didn't actually enjoy it – and it was somewhat strange to have an alarmingly good-looking blonde boy suck you off and not even be somewhat hard afterwards, but Harry was okay with it.

For a time.

It had all been well and good at first. It had helped Draco ease into being his pet – his slave – just plain his, but now it was not okay. Now, Harry was to the point of being angry about it.

After all, Draco was his, and if he wanted the boy to enjoy having sex with him, by the gods – it was going to happen.

"Gather some clothes, Draco – we're going to take a bath."

"Yes, Master."

Harry stared at the trunk for a moment before actually opening it and gathering a few of the items inside.

He had been looking for a chance to use the leather, after all. He carefully kept them out of the blonde's view – hopefully he wouldn't realize it wasn't the tail until much too late.

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As always, the prefect bath was large and spacious – and completely unlockable. There was a password on the door, but that was still no guarantee.

Of course, that was one of the things that Harry enjoyed – the absolute rush of possibly getting caught.

"Strip, and get in the bath," he told Draco, already undressing himself and covering his toys with his robes while the other could still see them. He pulled on a pair of silk gloves – they'd be ruined in the bathwater, but that could be fixed with a spell. Besides, he was sure Draco would prefer having the wet silk brush his insides than having oily fingers in him – which could be a right mess, especially on the sheets.

Harry settled the toys down next to one of the faucets, covered stubbornly with his robes, and finished undressing. It wasn't long before he was joining his pet in the warm water – Draco had already begun to run Harry's preferred taps, thinking nothing of the trip. They went to the prefect baths every day, there was nothing unusual about it.

"Come here." Today would be different.

There was a scowl on the blonde's face, but he dutifully swam over, keeping his grey eyes firmly fixed on a spot near Harry's throat – neither going lower, nor going higher – neither submitting fully nor challenging. He was always so careful about that.

Harry used the silk-covered hands to pull Draco close when he was near, and sit him down on the bench near the wall of the pool-sized tub. "Does that feel good?" he asked, running his fingers down Draco's sides beneath the water.

"Of course," the slight pause – there was always a slight pause before that word, "Master."

"Good." Harry placed a knee on either side of Draco's hips, and sat back on the other boy's knees. He pulled a leather arm-bracer from his robes. "I want you to wear these."

Draco didn't question, merely pulled the leather over his hand so that it covered from his wrist to half-way up his arm and tied it in place – first his left arm, then his right.

"Put your arms over your head."

Draco did as asked. Harry raised himself up onto his knees, and there was a glint of light off the metal of the handcuffs as he pulled them from his robes. Draco gasped, but by the time he thought to pull his hands down, the ring of metal was already around his wrists. They weren't so cold as he'd thought they'd be, but then again there was the leather to buffer the chill.

"There now – you can relax. They're hooked in the faucet behind us, if you'd like to know, and the leather should keep them from leaving…nasty marks on your wrists. Of course, that leather could tighten up as it dries – but that mark wouldn't be nearly as bad."

"Po-" Draco stopped himself before he slipped into that role – the familiar role of student versus student. "Master," he said, starting again. "May I ask a question?"

"You may ask, but I don't promise an answer."

"Why am I being…" the blonde searched for a word. "Bound?" he finally settled on.

Harry kissed him hungrily – thirstily – forcefully, and Draco closed his eyes. There was no fear here – there was no hate. There was only acceptance…and a lack of feeling. Harry growled. "That is why."

"I don't understand."

Harry moved away for a moment, grabbing yet another toy with his silk-covered fingers. "You have stopped allowing yourself to feel anything – pleasure or pain. While I don't mind the pain so much, you WILL feel pleasure this night – or the pain will overrule it." The dark-haired boy slipped a cock ring over the grey-eyed boy's limp manhood beneath the water. "Like it or not, you will cum for me this evening – whether it is sooner or later is entirely up to you, as is the number of toys from the trunk we require."

Draco turned his head aside, looking away.

"Care to tell me why you've chosen not to indulge yourself during our nights together? I know you well enough to know that you would be enjoying it – if you felt anything at all."

The blonde didn't say anything.

"Should I beat it out of you? I could set the twins on you – let them have their fill of you out in the forbidden forest. Or I could bring Dean in here – I'm sure he'd be more than happy to use you to his fill. That would really be fun, wouldn't it? Being taken by a half-blood – or less, since I don't know his full heritage. Not only that, but a half-blood in love with a muggle."

Draco winced, sinking in on himself. "It's nothing," he said. "It's silly."

"I don't deny that," Harry commented snidely. He moved away, and began to wash himself – letting Draco relax and mutter his way through some sort of explanation. When he didn't continue, Harry ordered him to. "Keep going."

"I…I don't think it's right."

"That a master take pleasure in his slave – or that a slave should find his own pleasure in pleasing his master."

Draco blushed, looking down.

Harry ran a feather-light caress down his back in a gloved hand, covered with soap. "Or is it something else?"

"I…"

A light breath across a still-dry ear.

"I…"

Fingers across his belly, down his navel.

"It's not right!" Draco blurted, suddenly all too eager to deny the fact that those touches felt good. "Father'd-" he cut himself off.

"Father would what?" Harry's eyes – his voice – were cold.

"He'd hurt me if he found out," was the whispered answer.

Green eyes flashed. "Your father is very lucky he's already dead – I can't hurt him beyond the grave."

Draco's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, dead? You told me father sold – "

"Shh," Harry soothed, suddenly very close and gentle once again as he pushed back strands of light, soft hair. "That's nothing to worry yourself over – let me deal with it, pet."

"Potter-" Draco had hardly gotten the word out before he was rewarded with a sharp tug up – out of the shallow water the bench was covered with – and dealt a stinging slap to his rear. Harry plopped him right back down on the bench afterwards, rubbing his arms where they – no doubt – stung from the sudden pull against the cuffs.

"You are not allowed to call me that."

"Yes master."

Draco wasn't looking at him again, and there was no denying that the blonde was upset.

Harry sighed. "I can't deal with this right now – I'll wash us both and then we can head to bed for the night. Tomorrow, I'll try and fix this."

Alarm flashed across Draco's face. "But – the cuffs –"

"None of toys – and I mean absolutely none of them – will be removed until I say so. I brought some other things to fit on you as well, under your clothes for the night."

Draco hung his head, but didn't say a word.

Harry snorted, moving to wash himself. "You'd think he'd be grateful," he muttered under his breath.

He could have tried to draw things out – tried to arouse the other while he bathed the boy, or teased him a bit more. Harry was too frustrated for it. He was too agitated to even bath the boy with more than a spell and then unlock the cuffs only long enough to pull him out of the tub and re-lock them behind the blonde's back.

Pouting, Harry pulled on a pair of loose pajama pants, and pushed aside his earlier robe with a bare foot. Beneath it lay the strips of leather he'd found when he first acquired Draco, along with a leash to attach to the collar – the dragons were sulking now – and two simple, thin chains with hooks on either end.

Harry set to work. First, one leather strap tightly belted around each thigh. Another strapped around each ankle, looping around the arch of the foot. Again around each of his thin biceps. A longer piece - not leather, Draco noticed, but silk – looped through the upper arm bands and tied to itself, with Harry pulling it as tight as it would go.

Draco bit his lip in order not to hiss in pain, as it pulled his shoulders back straight, into what his mother had always insisted was 'proper' posture.

The thin chains were next, one end attaching to the bands around his thighs, while the other end of each chain attached to the ring around his manhood. Even without making a movement, he knew it would pull if he took a step any larger than a child's – and with that on, Harry was sure to keep a fast pace, just to torture him.

Next, Harry pulled out the pajama pants Draco had brought for himself. "In," the dark-haired boy commanded. Dutifully, Draco stepped into them, and let Harry pull them up. He shifted a bit, unused to the feeling against his skin, but knowing it wouldn't matter – once they got back to their room, Harry would just make him take them off again.

And then Harry took the green tie to his uniform, put it around Draco's neck, and tied it loosely. His master turned the tie to face backwards, and from behind lifted it up and over Draco's chin. "Open," he commanded.

Draco whimpered – the last thing he wanted was a gag – to be dragged through the corridors like some animal with a leash and muzzle.

There was a sharp, stinging slap to his rear. "I said open," Harry repeated, sternly. "And if you don't do it soon, I'll accio that paddle – or maybe even the crop."

Draco opened, and Harry tightened the tie around his head, the cloth digging into the corners of his mouth.

Harry looked at it and sighed. "Not enough," he muttered, searching through his things. Finally, he came up with a handkerchief. "It'll have to do," he said, sliding it into Draco's mouth to tie it to the tie already around it, and stuffing the extra into the crevice.

Draco firmly wished he could bite off Harry's fingers.

Harry secured the leash to Draco's collar, pulled on his own socks and shirt, and let his pet away.

"This is far more effort than it should be," he muttered to himself as the door swung shut behind them.

Draco couldn't help but silently agree.

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