A/N — Well, this is up way later than I intended, but I lost passion for it for a while and got swamped in work. That's mostly over now though, so I should be able to get this finished. That doesn't necessarily mean I'll be able to post more stories though. We'll see. This was originally just the first half of Chapter II, but once it started getting longer than 15k words (and I realized it wouldn't stop before about 20k) I decided to split it into two chapters instead, so the really juicy bits will be in Chapter III, which, as a teaser, is titled The Summons. I debated just leaving it as one 20k word chapter, but since I'm thinking of making a final chapter (which would have been Chapter III) or two which wouldn't have been nearly as long it didn't seem to make much sense to have a story that went from 6k to 20k to 10k. So here it is!
Luckily, that means Chapter III is almost entirely written and it shouldn't be another month or more gap before it's posted. I figure what I'll do is save posting Chapter III until I'm mostly done with Chapter IV and post it in a week or two. Alternately, if I finish Chapter IV before then (or decide to cut it off at three chapters) I'll just post it all in one go.
A/N — Regarding the review about line extinction and the minor amount of plot I've used to justify this, I'll say that I don't really understand what you're getting at. Do you mean that the Ministry is doing to Harry what they're punishing him for? Or do you mean that others attempted line extinction on Harry and that therefore the Ministry can't punish him for doing the same? If it's the first one, I'll direct you to any study of law. Punishments have a tendency to mimic ("fit") the crime; see: execution. If it's the second one, I thought it was fairly clear. A) Normally the punishments are monetary in nature, but because Harry has so many different counts of attempted line extinction against many different families against him the Wizengamot opted for a more severe punishment. B) Others who could be punished for attempting line extinction against Harry either do not have so many charges against them (i.e. just the Potter family versus the many families Harry is charged with) and/or are already being punished for much worse crimes that result in them being unable to be punished like Harry is (e.g. execution). C) Malfoy probably pushed for this punishment specifically for Harry; there's no political pressure to sentence anyone else to the same fate. D) It's smut. Don't overthink it.
Chapter II: Adulterous Seductions
•
The days following the travesty of justice that had befallen the Potters were amongst the worst either had ever experienced, and it wasn't, per se, because Malfoy had exercised his new 'rights' to Harry's wife either. Truth be told, that was part of the problem — not that Ginny hadn't been forced to have sex with Harry's rival but the strain the anticipation of such put on their marriage. Harry had become as broody and ill-tempered as he had ever been during Voldemort's time, while Ginny was being forced to balance her husband's temper, her own emotions, and everything else. She could tell that thoughts of Malfoy defiling her ate at him day and night; whether she was at home or with her quidditch team; whether he was at work on a case or studying her like Malfoy's impending touch would make her unrecognizable.
That was not the worst, however. Worse was that news of the new status of the Potters' marriage had spread to the entire wizarding world, not the least of which were the press and (perhaps even more awfully) their friends and family. The press, at least, was predictable, if deplorable. Goodwill generated from Harry's defeat of Voldemort had lasted him a year or two, but he had rather unhappily discovered just how fleeting gratitude could be. If he had thought the media during his isolated years at Hogwarts had been bad, he had no words to describe them now. They alternately castigated and praised him, but Harry had managed to avoid most of it by living a private and secluded life.
That didn't save him now. The press was vicious, openly running articles from the vexingly factual 'Ginny Potter first open-concubine in seventy years' to more ghastly opinion pieces such as 'Potter the pimp? Politics as usual or the move of a new dark lord?' — which speculated that Harry had arranged Ginny's infidelity as a way to solidify his power base — or 'Ginny Potter: Less than innocent in sexual power-play' — which claimed that Ginny had been in love with Malfoy since Hogwarts and that marrying and then cuckolding Harry was part of her sadistic streak. And those were mainstream papers. More gossipy magazines and less-than-reputable journals had field days. 'Why Ginny Potter is the luckiest witch in Britain,' 'The disturbing fetishes of Harry Potter,' 'Potter couple looks to school friend for flagging love life,' 'Why open-concubinage is not as weird as you think,' and 'How to save yourself from a Pottering' were just some of the many headlines Harry and Ginny had thrown in their faces when they were out and about.
All that, however, was nothing compared to the reactions of their friends and family. Mrs. Weasley had given her condolences to the couple but hadn't seemed all that upset about the ruling. She had even tried to comfort Ginny — out of what she mistakenly thought was Harry's earshot — by reminding her that at least she had once had a slight crush on Malfoy, which she hotly denied. Harry had fumed about the episode for days afterwards. In contrast, the Weasley boys didn't seem to know how to act. They were still trying to accustom themselves to the fact that Harry was sleeping with their little sister; imagining Malfoy doing so seemed to be a little too much. They couldn't seem to decide whether to comfort Harry, help him get revenge, storm the Ministry, castrate Malfoy, or declare war on the world for their sister's virtue. In the end they settled for something like distant, confused concern, hovering around like tenacious fruit flies. Mr. Weasley, for his part, simply seemed to exist in a state of general bewilderment that preventing him even acknowledging the issue, save for general muttering about "those asses."
Hermione had been outraged, of course. Neither Harry nor Ginny had expected anything less. She had met the news with the pronouncement that it couldn't possibly be legal, and had, predictably, thrown herself into research. Neither had much hope of her turning up anything. Both had belatedly realized that if there was to be any hope of getting out of their predicament it had probably vanished when they performed the ritual. They had both been in a state of shock, and now bitterly regretted going along with the thing. Most likely, Harry thought, why the ritual was performed immediately. Nevertheless, the Potters felt it best to let Hermione work without reprimand.
Infuriatingly, Fleur had blithely declared Ginny lucky to be able to sleep with two men, something that had shocked everyone. It had also, to Harry's mind, rather highlighted the differences in attitude for those with veela ancestry. Or, he thought, perhaps not, considering that Mrs. Weasley seemed to tacitly agree. Ginny herself had quickly disabused them — in her typically fiery fashion — about any notions that she might actually be pleased with the arrangement. After that episode, none of them had dared ask her whether Malfoy had actually taken her yet. Instead, they settled for giving Harry pitying looks, which set him even more on edge. Or, in Mrs. Weasley and Fleur's case, evaluating looks, as though they were trying to decide whether he was still a worthy lover for Ginny.
Neville had been the one person they had both been expecting, and his sentiments had run much as they suspected they would. He had wanted to help them, he said, and Hannah had given her blessing. "I'm really sorry, Harry," he had said. "You know I'm not made of money… Not like Malfoy." Neither had been sure what to reply to that, nor when he said "I figured if it was to be anyone, you'd prefer a friend…" The meeting had been as awkward as any had ever had, and Neville had left in a hurry. Both the Potters had been left thinking the same unspoken question: Would it have been better for Ginny to be Neville's concubine? Dinner had been silent as a grave.
The most terrible of all their friends had been unexpected. Ginny's teammates on the Hollyhead Harpies had seemed to decide that Ginny's new status was something worth celebrating. Rather than as a concubine, they seemed to regard Ginny as some new mistress of Malfoy's and of her becoming a concubine as some masterful accomplishment of hers, that she now 'got to' have sex with two of the most sought-after wizards in Britain. More than a few had declared themselves envious. Some of the more daring had even questioned Ginny about which of them was the better lover, whether she had had both of them at once, or even whether she might consider some four-way arrangement. One particularly loud girl (a beater, predictably) had even declared Ginny unfathomably fortunate, saying "Now you won't have to cheat on Harry! Shame, too, because I had some great guys lined up for you who really wanted to have a go at 'the Chosen One's' wife." The same witch had even tried to declare a toast "to infidelity and new lovers!" but had failed when Ginny had given them icy stares. Suffice it to say that Harry now held them in considerably lower esteem.
All that, however, was still not the worst of all. No, the worst of all was that Ginny had been lying to Harry for weeks. She hadn't yet slept with Malfoy, but he had been visiting her. The first had been about a week after the ritual had been completed. Harry had been out at the time — she had coaxed him to return to work to 'get his mind off things' while she lazed about the house and tried to calm herself. She had been sitting at the table when there had been a knock at the door and she had stood to answer it, and before she knew it she had found herself, clad in only a bathrobe, slammed against her door and forcibly kissed. She hadn't realized it was Malfoy at first. At first she had simply been in shocked and then overcome by the passion of the kiss, and when she had gotten her wits about her she had begun fighting back. Malfoy had overpowered her easily, pressing her scantily clad body against his while he plundered her mouth. Ginny's little cries and protests only seemed to spur him on, and he had even been so daring as to fondle her breasts through her robe. The sensation had been just as good as always, and involuntarily Ginny had found her nipples hardening. She had even found herself returning the kiss. Inexplicably and without warning, Malfoy had disengaged and left. Ginny had been in such a state of disarray and arousal that she almost hadn't noticed, and had found herself feeling very frustrated and then very guilty. When Harry had gotten home she had told him that Malfoy had come 'round, and Harry had become so agitated that she told him nothing had happened when he asked. She was determined to spare him the truth, and so she hadn't told him about the subsequent visits.
The day after and the day after that it had happened again. Malfoy had taken Ginny and ravished her in different spots all over her house. The second day it had been while Ginny tended to her garden. The blond had snuck up on her and pushed her down onto the wet ground beneath him. The redhead had tried to push him off, but had only found that she had ridden up her summer dress so that he was settled between her legs. He had kissed her feverishly while the sprinkler charms soaked them (in retrospect affording him a tremendous view of her bra-free top). Ginny could not be certain, but she even thought she had felt his fingers ghost up the hem of her dress to brush her thighs. Just like the day before, he had vanished part way through his near-rape of her, leaving Ginny lying in the wet grass feeling very stupid and very frustrated. She also, to her horror, couldn't determine if the wetness between her legs was only from the sprinkler charms or not. She hoped that it was. At any rate, it took a little more than a cold shower before she was feeling herself again.
The third day, Harry's wife had decided to return to her quidditch team. She had been avoiding them since the 'celebration incident' on reluctantly given sick-leave, but she hoped to avoid Malfoy more. The captain had been only too glad to have her back, and for a little while Ginny was able to distract herself from her deteriorating personal life. She had worked up a sweat and played fantastically, and when practice had finally been called in the evening hours she had landed her broom coated in sweat and mud, her heart racing. Just as before, however, Malfoy had appeared out of seemingly nowhere. With little more than a quiet protest on Ginny's part they had become pressed in the bleachers, Ginny sitting on the protective fence while Malfoy snogged her silly. She had gotten mud all over him, but it had been nothing compared to the sweat. Her heart had already been pounding, but when he had, as ever, disappeared she had felt light-headed.
The next day, Ginny prepared herself for Malfoy's assault on her. She was on edge from dawn until dusk when she finally trudged through her door tired and sore, constantly expecting to be accosted by her decreed lover. The physical aches were nothing compared to the mental strain, however. Not just of being constantly on guard, but also of being all too aware of the fact she was in a constant state of partial arousal. Her nipples never quite softened and her panties were never quite dry, and though she tried, in her mind, to blame it on the cold night air and the sweat she had worked up during quidditch it never quite rung true. All the same, her vigilance was for naught. Malfoy never showed himself, and when Ginny finally changed into her negligee and lay down next to Harry it was after a day of having stayed absolutely faithful to him, at least in body. Her dreams, unwelcome though they were, were another matter.
Malfoy didn't show himself the next day either, nor for the entire week. By the end of it Ginny hadn't known whether to feel relieved or frustrated. On the one hand, a small, irrational part of her was hopeful that maybe Malfoy had given up on her and that her marriage to Harry would remain intact. On the other hand, a shameful, primitive part of her had grown to crave the excitement of being taken without warning. Not, of course, by Malfoy, but Ginny couldn't deny that her body reacted to the physical stimulation; she just wanted it to be from Harry. She wanted to be dominated by him. The problem was that he wasn't. He wasn't even touching her. The first few nights after the ritual she had thrown herself at him — partly to reaffirm their marriage — but some sort of magic had prevented them doing anything. Hermione had later informed them that the fresh magic of the concubine bond would prevent anyone but Ginny's 'master' touching her sexually, but all that both of them knew at the time was that they felt as though their genitals had been doused in icy water. Suffice it to say it was quite the turn-off, and after the first few times they had given up entirely. Harry, in fact, had been sent even further into his brooding and was quite unresponsive to any of Ginny's further advances, making her unsure of whether the jinx on them touching had been lifted or not.
There was also the problem of Ginny discovering she had a few kinks. Perhaps it was primal instinct or perhaps she was merely perverted, but the thought of being forcibly taken from her husband by another man was immensely arousing for Ginny. The thought that she might be forced to spread her legs for a man she didn't want to have sex with both sickened and intrigued her. It got her heart racing and her hands shaking, stomach cold and sick with feelings that could have been either excitement or disgust of a most fundamental kind. Maybe it was both. Whatever the case, the idea that an — objectively, not that Ginny really thought so — attractive man would come and take her from her husband to his bed was an undeniably appealing one to Ginny. Regardless of the fact that Malfoy had the entire wizarding government behind him for the deed, the redhead's instincts to mate with the strongest man around roared with approval. The thrills of taboo and betrayal were also there, much to Ginny's disgust.
At first Ginny had tried to rationalize away these thoughts. She was a good girl and had been raised to be one; she was raised to keep her promises and do her duty. Such perverse things would never normally occur to her, let alone arouse her. They had merely been put in her head by recent circumstances. They merely aroused her because they were sexual, not because she especially enjoyed them. She was a good woman and a good wife.
A good wife who couldn't keep the thoughts out of her head. To be fair, initially Malfoy hadn't been making it easy. She had even managed to convince herself that it was something he had done to her, but then he had stopped seeing her. For the first time since she had started having sex, Ginny was cut off from all sexual contact, and she didn't like it. Moreover, she found her thoughts suddenly wandering to her master, and she could no longer blame it on his accosting her. When she had, finally, orgasmed with a cry of 'Draco!' in the shower after imagining him tying up Harry so he could have her alone in their bathroom her eyes and flown open and her hand had stilled between her legs after realizing what she had been thinking. At that point it was no longer deniable that she was turned on by being a concubine. They weren't foreign and they weren't forced on her. They were her natural desires. Never before had Ginny wanted to die so much as in that moment of realization.
So she had gone with the natural reaction and tried to suppress the thoughts. It had almost worked, too. Almost. It was hard when she had no sexual contact with Harry. It was even harder when her left hand felt so empty and her right felt so odd with a ring on it. Hardest of all when she moved her head and felt her choker tighten or its medallion press, cool, against her throat, which was all the time. She had even developed the unconscious habit of massaging her bare left ring finger or stroking the medallion on her neck. She tried her best not to do it when Harry was around, but she didn't always succeed. It pleased neither of them.
Eventually, however, she had broken. She was young and nubile and sexual and she needed release. And when she had masturbated and the thought of Malfoy, rather than Harry, entering her on her wedding bed had popped into her head she had not brushed it away. She had embraced it and let her hands wander, tugging, twisting, and being altogether more rough with her body than Harry had ever been. She had imagined her husband's rival forcing her to do all sorts of things, and when she finally came it was to the most satisfying orgasm she had had in months. She had felt absolutely disgusted with herself afterwards, but that hadn't stopped a repeat performance the next two nights. It was almost a guilty pleasure, like eating a whole box of chocolates.
Masturbation had quickly not become enough. Not when Ginny knew what good sex was like. The marriage limbo she was in, she realized, was killing her as well as Harry. Malfoy had not been seen near her since the quidditch incident, but neither had Harry made a move on her since their first, fateful attempts. Ginny had known what she needed to do, but she hesitated. The Malfoy she had known all the way to the end of her schooling had never shown mercy to anyone nor taken pity on them, but then that hadn't been the Malfoy that had survived Lord Voldemort's fall. Before taking Ginny as his concubine, Harry had even vouched for the man, if reluctantly. So perhaps, Harry's wife thought, all she needed to do was talk with him. Perhaps he would free her and allow her to go back to physically loving Harry. Or, at the very least (a demented part of her thought), it would spur him into not leaving her sexually inactive. Ginny tried to quiet that thought.
Nevertheless, two weeks after Malfoy's last (unwelcome) visit, Ginny found herself dressing up and going to the Ministry where Malfoy spent a good deal of his time (to the point that he even had an office). She tried not to think too much on the underwear or dress she had chosen to wear, but a small part of her suspected that she had been a little too eager to show off, given the circumstances. Ginny hadn't wanted to be seen going to Malfoy's office, of course (Merlin knew the rumors didn't need any fuel, let alone what Harry would say), and with great hesitation she had taken her husband's invisibility cloak. After popping in to have lunch with Harry and throw off suspicion for her visit, the redhead left a bemused but somewhat less broody husband behind and reluctantly donned the invisibility cloak. The trip to Malfoy's office had been far too short, and Ginny couldn't tell if what she felt when walking was terror or arousal. At any rate, she had stumbled in her high heels more than once.
For a lord of the Wizengamot, Ginny thought upon sneaking into Malfoy's office, his security was rather lackluster. There had been no guard nor even any alarms, and she had been able to merely open the door. Then again, Harry's experiences with internal Ministry security hadn't been much different. Shutting the door, the redhead turned to enter the inner office, and wasn't too surprised to see her 'master' sitting at his desk looking through papers. Whipping off the cloak and stowing it away, she knocked on the door, causing him to look up. If Ginny had been forced to describe his reaction to first seeing her it would have been something like a flare of deep, primal satisfaction. Seeing it flit across his face almost made her reconsider coming, but when his face settled into something more benign and bemused she supposed she had already come this far. Ginny Potter never backed down from a challenge. "Hi," she said without preempt.
Malfoy's lip twitched. "Hi," he replied. "I don't suppose you were here for a kiss and lunch date."
Ginny felt herself bristle but forced it down. "Not at all. In case you've forgotten, I'm married, and I'm faithful to my husband." She had to resist the urge to smack the brief, oh-so-Malfoy smirk that flitted over his lips at her affirmation. Physical violence would almost certainly be unproductive. "In fact, that's what I'm here to talk to you about."
"Changing your faithful status?" Malfoy prompted, and Ginny very nearly did slap him. "Sorry, go on," he said at her wild-eyed look, not looking very sorry at all.
"No," she bit out. "I love Harry, and that's never going to change. In fact, I want you to release me as your concubine. As soon as possible. Before I leave this office, if it can be managed."
Malfoy hummed to himself, as though deep in thought. "And why would I do this? I did pay ten thousand galleons to make you my concubine, you know."
"For Merlin's sake, Malfoy! Have some pity on us!" Ginny cried. "Even if you insisted on repayment, Harry could repay you the money, but frankly I don't think he should have to. He bloody well saved your life personally, he spared you Azkaban, and he spared you life as a slave to bloody Voldemort! Isn't that enough to give him the smallest courtesy of not fucking his wife?"
Malfoy's mouth had set into a small line at this outburst, but he didn't quite look angry. Instead, he merely rummaged around until he found a sheet of paper and placed it in front of her. "You're not just asking me to forfeit money, you're asking me to subvert Wizengamot rulings. That is the notice of your husband's sentencing; I'm sure you have one. It says, plainly, that he must suffer the punishment of mulier adultera. You must sleep with another man. That's what the highest wizarding authority has decided."
"Bugger the Ministry! I didn't do what they said when they wanted me to turn in my friends and I'm certainly not going to cheat on Harry just because they say so!" Seeing Malfoy's unimpressed look, she sighed. "You didn't have a problem ignoring them before. Can't you just do the right thing for once?" Malfoy's nostrils flared at this, and Ginny quickly amended, "Please. Malfoy… Draco, Harry's done so much for you; this isn't too much to ask."
"Debatable, but it doesn't really matter because, lastly, I can't release you as my concubine because you aren't my concubine."
"WHAT?" Ginny roared. "Then what has all this feeling me up and leaving me halfway to orgasm bullshit been?! If I'm not your bloody concubine then why can't I put my ring back where it belongs and take off this damn choker?"
"You're not my concubine yet. You're not my concubine because we haven't completed the concubine ritual which, as you can imagine, requires that you have sex with me… To orgasm, in fact." Seeing Ginny's look, Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, you didn't think all the ceremonial fluff with Potter giving you to me was all that it took, did you? All that happened there was the Ministry's magic modifying your marriage bond so you can have sex with me and become my concubine. The rest was you taking the initial steps to become my concubine, which only fully happens when we have sex and both orgasm. Only once you're actually my concubine would it be even remotely possible to release you."
Ginny blanched. "No! You're lying. There's no way we have to… to… have sex before I can just be married to Harry again. There's got to be some way around it."
Malfoy shrugged. "It doesn't really matter," he told her, and Ginny's eyes turned from pleading to worried. "I'm going to be honest with you… as a courtesy…" He smirked. "I have no intention of not having sex with you. In fact, Ginny, I want to fuck you. I want to bend you over and take you. I want to do all sorts of things to you, and I can. And I will." His blue eyes bored into hers, at once so similar and so different to her husband's green ones.
"But…" Ginny started. How could he? Had he not changed at all? All Harry had done for him and he was still going to take his wife?
"From now on," Malfoy interrupted her, "you shouldn't look at that ring on your hand as a symbol of your marriage to Potter. You shouldn't even look at it as Potter's. If you need a reminder about whose woman you are first and foremost you'll look at the crest publicly displayed on your neck. You'll learn that soon enough. When you look at that ring you should see it as a reminder that not even marriage can keep me from a woman I want." Ginny shuddered and clenched her legs, looking at him in a whole new light. Just who was this man? "If you need to think of anything when you look at it, think that this is my thanks to Potter: that I allow him to touch a woman again."
"Draco…! You can't!" Ginny said, knowing the words were irrational even before they left her mouth. Malfoy really raised an eyebrow, saying nothing. "I'm Harry's wife. Doesn't that mean anything to you? What if your wife told you she was going to sleep with another man? What if…"
He stopped her with a gesture. "You're bargaining, Lady Potter. I'm not changing my mind… but you did get me curious. Why didn't Potter come here himself? Why just you? To be honest, I was expecting him to confront me, but word is he's just been stewing this whole time… He doesn't seem… to…" his eyes flicked to the redhead in understanding, "have… done anything," he finished slowly. "You wanted me, didn't you?" he asked her. "You two haven't done anything. That's what this is about."
"No!" Ginny protested. How could he get such a ridiculous idea? But a knowing smile was already making its way across her 'master's' face. How she longed to get rid of it.
"I didn't expect… But I suppose it makes sense…" he murmured to himself. Then he smiled widely.
"Look, Malfoy, I don't know what you…" But Malfoy stopped her again, incensing the redhead.
"You should get going. I hear that Potter leaves work early these days, so unless you want to come home with me and leave him wondering…"
Ginny looked at her watch and realized that she had indeed overstayed. She needed to get home, and she definitely did not want Malfoy to see invitations that weren't there. Hurriedly, she left the room, rearranging her dress that had somehow become disarrayed and praying that Harry hadn't decided to leave too early. She hadn't told him about her excursion for obvious reasons.
As she left, she heard Malfoy's parting comment. "Nice dress, by the way. Very sexy."
––|––
Harry hadn't noticed anything amiss when he came home. Though he had seen his wife looked a bit unsettled, it was nothing much out of the ordinary, and after the lunch he had had with her his moods were sufficiently lifted that he didn't question her. Ginny, for her part, was merely in shock at Malfoy's response to her request. Not only that there was no way to get out of having sex with him at least once (and likely a whole lot more), but that he could be so… callous. Or selfish. Or domineering. Telling her he wanted her so plainly? Telling her she was his? He had some nerve. Or maybe it was merely a ploy to get her attracted to him. She wished it wasn't working.
It was another week after her meeting with her 'master' that his visits resumed. Much like before, they were unexpected and mainly about snogging her senseless, but Malfoy seemed to have grown more adventurous since Ginny had asked him to free her from his concubinage. Guiltily, the redhead wondered if she herself had prompted it by trying to get out of her predicament. Even more guiltily, she wondered if this was what she had secretly wished would happen when she had gone to see her 'master.' It was both better and worse than before. Her sexual frustrations would be somewhat eased, but never satiated. Malfoy had yet to do anything with her but some fondling, and Ginny had not yet orgasmed from his ministrations. Being taken almost to the top but always being let down was torturous, but Ginny was certain she didn't want to go back to no contact at all. At the same time, she wanted whatever Malfoy was doing to end. Really, she admitted to herself, what she wanted was a good fuck. If only Harry would give it to her…
She wanted it even more badly when Malfoy began torturing her. It was during one of their, now regular, heavy make-out sessions that Malfoy started. He was fondling her breasts through her thin summer dress and the redhead was moaning into his mouth. Then she wasn't as his hot tongue swirled around her earlobe. Insistent lips kissed down her neck, clouding Ginny's thoughts as she made little panting noises. Finally they came to her exposed cleavage, and the redhead had to resist arching her back to thrust her chest up into his lips when they began kissing down it. "You're such a bad girl," her master whispered to her. "A bad wife, moaning for another man like this. You're a bad wife, aren't you?" Ginny kept her mouth shut, but Malfoy kneaded her breasts again and a moan escaped. "Aren't you?"
Ginny couldn't stop herself. It was true, after all, and she couldn't think straight. "Uh huh."
"It's such a shame you're married," Malfoy whispered between her breasts. "Married women can't have their tits sucked by another man, and you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Again Ginny didn't answer. "If only I could just pull the strap of that dress aside…" He suckled her shoulder gently, nipping at the strap of her summer dress with his teeth and making motions to pull it over her shoulder before pulling it back again. The teasing was agonizing to Ginny. For Merlin's sake, she just wanted her nipples sucked. "But we can't. You're married." Then he went back to kissing her and massaging her almost painfully aroused breasts. Ginny almost told him to bugger her marriage and suck her tits, but her rational side prevailed and she didn't. She did, however, play with them furiously after Malfoy had left.
The next day, her 'master' was, if anything, even more attentive to her breasts. Ginny was practically putty in his hands as they kissed. Finally, when her nipples were so stiff it was almost painful, Malfoy's hand unexpectedly pulled the strap of her dress off her shoulder. It had been so sudden and without hesitation that Ginny didn't even notice her boob was hanging out for a moment. Only when she felt a rough hand palm her bare nipple did she realize, and her eyes snapped open while her 'master' was still tonguing her throat. "No," she tried to say, but it disappeared around Malfoy's tongue as little more than yet another moan. Instead she tried to push him, but her strength was no match and Malfoy was insistent. The kiss continued as did the fondling of her naked breast until the experience overwhelmed Ginny and she couldn't help but sink back into her pleasure.
Finally, the blond was suckling on her neck, and Ginny opened her eyes to see that the other strap of her dress was over her shoulder and her bosom was entirely exposed to her unwanted lover. With a motion she tried to pull the straps back up, but her arms would neither reach around Malfoy nor bend up to touch them. She was completely unable to cover herself until Malfoy stopped his ministrations. He didn't seem in a hurry, she thought as she bit her lip to stifle a moan from his hitting a particularly sensitive spot on her neck. "This is bad," he moaned into her ear. "You're almost naked for another man. Your tits are just right there. They're rubbing on my shirt. Can you feel it?" She could. Her stiff nipples were grazing against the impossibly coarse fabric they were pressed into, and it was driving her crazy. "I want to suck your nipples so badly, but you'd be cheating. You want this, don't you? You like showing me your tits. It turns you on, doesn't it?" He breathed into her ear and suckled her earlobe, and Ginny whimpered. "Doesn't it?" A hand slipped up the skirt of her dress to sit on her thigh, and, lightning quick, the redhead's hand caught it and stopped it.
"No," she breathed at him, eyes closed. The hand stilled for a second, but then began pressing forward past Ginny's resistance. "No, don't," she panted into his ear. The hand continued, forearm causing the skirt to bunch and lift up her pale thigh. "No, no," she sighed. Finally, her master's fingers reached the (far too skimpy, she now realized) panties she was wearing and paused.
"This is so bad," Malfoy whispered to her. "So wrong. We should stop. I can't believe you're letting another man touch your knickers." The fingers trailed along the waistband, playing with the little stylized loops and sometimes briefly pulling at the elastic. "I can't believe you wore such small knickers for another man. I wonder what I'd find if I took them off…" At this he kissed her again before Ginny could say anything, her protests dying in her mouth. Once she was sufficiently subdued again, the hand up her dress pressed flat against her stomach and slowly slid into her panties, cupping her womanhood for the first time. Her very wet womanhood. The redhead squeaked in surprise and shock, and Malfoy broke the kiss. "You're all wet for another man, you little slut. All wet for me. You're such a bad girl. Such a bad wife. If only we could do more than fondle… All this turns you on like nothing else, doesn't it?"
"No!" Ginny blurted. It was a stupid lie when he could feel how her body had betrayed her, but Harry's wife felt obligate. She couldn't be turned on by this. She couldn't. She had promised Harry she would hate cheating on him, and she couldn't break that promise. Without warning, the hand that had been on the small of her back swept down to cup her arse through her dress and lift her up slightly, forcing her leg to lift and wrap around him so she wouldn't fall. At the same time a single finger swirled around her clitoris, and the contact was so unexpected that Ginny felt herself tensing as the orgasm that had been building swept through her. "Uhhhhnngghg!" she moaned involuntarily into his ear as she shuddered from the pleasure. It was a small orgasm, granted, but it was more than Ginny had been experiencing for many weeks. His finger swirled around her clit, prolonging her pleasure, until, finally, Ginny came down from her high, panting.
"You're a naughty, cheating wife," Malfoy whispered to her. "You just came for another man. You got off to another man's touch." He suckled her neck again, kissing down to her cleavage. At the same time, his hand withdrew from her womanhood and he brought it between their faces. Looking up from her breasts, and slowly licked his glistening fingers in front of the redhead's confused eyes. Then, slowly and deliberately, he leaned up to kiss her again. Ginny leaned away, but even still his lips caught hers and she was drawn into another kiss, for the first time tasting her own juices. It was a wild, erotic thing. The kiss was broken once the taste vanished, and, without giving her time to think, Malfoy's lips moved to take one of the redhead's nipples between them. "So bad," he murmured around it. "We really shouldn't be doing this. You shouldn't be letting a man suck your tits like this while your husband's away." With a gentle nibble, her pink nipple was drawn between his teeth and softly pinched, and again Ginny couldn't resist moaning. Eagerly he worked on her until her breast was nice and erect again before switching to her other boob.
"Ah!" Ginny cried softly.
Back and forth he switched, kneading and pawing, licking and sucking, biting and nibbling. Soon enough, Ginny was on the verge of another orgasm just from her breasts, and she made little panting noises as she drew closer. She was so close… so close… Just a few more licks…
And Malfoy drew away. Ginny almost yelled in protest, but restrained herself. "No, we can't," he told her, a teasing little grin on his face. "You should be faithful to your husband." Ginny wanted to scream at him. With gentle motions he pushed the straps of her dress back over her shoulders and rearranged everything so that it was if his domination of her had never occurred. Then he walked away to disapparate, leaving Ginny standing there incredulously.
This incident seemed to set the pattern for the next while, though unfortunately without the orgasm. Malfoy now seemed to consider her breasts fair game, as well as her arse, and though he hadn't yet done anything more than cup her bare womanhood it happened enough with increasing frequency that some part of Ginny suspected he was merely building her up. Indeed, it was after one session, after Malfoy had given Ginny her first real orgasm in days (recently masturbating was just not doing the trick) that he made his demand of her. As Ginny lay disheveled, her breasts hanging freely with neither of them having made any efforts to cover them up, and panting while Malfoy walk to leave, he turned to her. "Do not wear any underwear with those dresses ever again," he told her. His gaze was so stern and she was in such a pleasurable, tired state that the redhead even nodded to this obscene request, and Malfoy looked satisfied before vanishing again.
The next day, Ginny had stood unsure and naked in her bedroom looking at her panties on the bed next to her dress. In a state of indecision she stared at both of them, different emotions warring within her. Harry had asked her what was wrong, but Ginny hadn't answered him. He merely gave suspicious, if puzzled, looks at the whole scene before shrugging and going through his morning routine. Ginny had sighed and gone to the shower. She took only the dress.
Harry's wife had to admit there was something erotic about no wearing any underwear with her dresses. Perhaps it was the thrill of being so exposed — or perhaps, a depraved part of her mind wondered, it was because there was no only a thin dress separating her naked body from her 'master.' Whatever it was, it made her worried that someone might somehow notice the slick trails down her thighs. It also meant, during her liaisons with Malfoy, that her was able to easily access her pussy. And access it he did. He didn't always touch her sexually. Sometimes they merely kissed heatedly, and sometimes he didn't appear at all. Other times Ginny had her breasts thoroughly ravished, and some other times she even got lightly fingered. Most rare of all, Malfoy sometimes brought her to orgasm, the only time Ginny got release. It was, again, in the aftermath of an orgasm that Malfoy whispered in her ear. Her bare, wet heat was rubbing against the bulge in his trousers, and Malfoy broke their kiss. "I want to lick your pussy." Ginny squirmed.
"No," she said.
"I know, baby. I know. You're married. We can't. We shouldn't." Then he kissed her again, doing so for the rest of their time together until he disappeared again. From then on, however, the teasing was ramped up. At first, Malfoy merely shifted them to laying side-by-side on the ground sometimes, snogging. Then he began playing with her legs and feet, occasionally kissing her calves and knees. It was spontaneous and without a pattern, surprising Ginny every time it happened. Other times, he would have her topless and expose her further; down to her ribs, then down to her navel. Then down to the top of her pubic bone, almost to the point that her pubic hair was revealed to him. Then he became adventurous, head slipping under her skirts so he could plant kisses along her thighs towards her core. Every time he pulled away before she protested and do nothing more than kiss or fondle her before disappearing, but every time he would start again. The kisses would get closer and closer until Ginny could feel his breath on her moist folds, and it began to drive her wild.
During one of these times, Ginny lay panting on the grass of her garden, for once fully covered by her dress. Malfoy had brought her to a small and quiet orgasm by fingering her, and now he lay blowing occasionally at her quivering pussy. Every now and then he'd plant a kiss on one of her thighs, prompting Ginny to once again attempt to close her legs before finding his arms stopping her. So she lay, merely enjoying the sensations and thinking as long as he didn't go further she wouldn't have to feel too guilty. He shifted, and Ginny felt his head move in again to blow on her.
And then a tongue run from the bottom of her folds to the top, dipping briefly into her before pressing roughly against her clit. The orgasm ripped through her before she was even fully aware of it, and she heard a voice cry "Malfoy! Yes!" His tongue was back on her, and everything was so wet that Ginny couldn't tell whether it was Malfoy's mouth or her own arousal. His tongue swirled and dipped and explored and probed, and it was almost overwhelming to Harry's wife. She had never been eaten out before, and the experience was so new and amazing that in what seemed like a very short time she was cumming again all over his face. She had nothing to compare to, but he seemed like an expert.
They said nothing as the cleaned themselves up, and it was only when Ginny was back inside did the guilt hit her. Not, she realized after sitting in the shower for a good long while, because she had let Malfoy eat her out but because she didn't feel guilty about doing so. In fact, she realized, ashamed, she wanted it to happen again. Orgasming like that was almost as good as sex, and she'd take what she could get.
Her wish was granted, to her shame. It took a few more sessions before Malfoy went near her womanhood again, and even then it took a small nudging motion from Ginny to initiate it. It was so slight that she could have pretended it was accidental, but her 'master' seemed to know exactly what it was, for after a moment she found herself hoisted up and pressed against the wall, her legs draped over his shoulders. For a second she worried that he might not do anything but tease her, but then his tongue was inside her and she was moaning in ways she had promised Harry she never would. Her orgasm, when it came, was just as good as ever.
Being eaten out by her master became something of an addition to Harry's wife over the next few weeks. It left her wet like nothing else, and it was one of the better experiences she had ever had to feel as though her entire pubic area was slick. At the same time, it gave her release like nothing else was these days, and she rationalized that it wasn't so bad to do with Malfoy. She wasn't doing anything, after all. He was doing all the work. Even if it was cheating on Harry, it was the least amount she could get away with.
It was during this time, while her pussy was getting acclimatized to Malfoy's mouth, that her husband seemed to come out of his funk enough to start getting sexual with her. Harry was being more affectionate, more the way he used to act, and Ginny wasn't terribly surprised when, one afternoon after he came home (and after a particularly good session with Malfoy) he pressed her up against a wall and kissed her senseless. Instantly, the sensation of having icy water poured all over their sexes engulfed the two, and Harry's lust-filled expression immediately turned to one of great anger. "Bloody, buggering Malfoy! Bastards! Bastards!" he cried, as well as a few other swears, before stomping off to his office. Ginny just slid down the wall, not sure what had happened. Whatever it was, she didn't mention it to Malfoy.
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One particular day, while Ginny was sitting in her robe in the morning at her table, sipping at a hot cup of tea, she happened to look out the window looking for owls, as was her habit. She hadn't really been expecting any that day, and was surprised when she caught sight of a large square. That was to say, she recognized, after a moment, a box in the distance, and then the far-too-small owl carrying it. Only when it came closer did she realize that the owl was fairly large as owls went and it was the box that was oversized, and she scrambled to open the window. All at once the box was sitting on her table, and the owl had disappeared fast enough that Ginny almost thought it had been a dream.
Dread and eager anticipation warred within her as she moved her trembling hands to open the box. It could only be from one person, but what would Malfoy have sent her? She was answered a moment later when she flipped the box open, and was shocked enough that she accidentally swept her teacup off the table, whereupon it smashed on the floor. The redhead took no notice, instead peering into the box as if in a trance.
A trance that was broken when Harry's footsteps came running. "What happened?" he called. Thumping from where her husband had been doing something in his office prompted her to seal the box back up, and when his nervous face appeared in the door he was unable to see the contents. "Gin, what's up?" he asked. Then, seeing the cup smashed on the floor, he waved his wand and repaired it, vanishing the spilled tea and placing the cup back on the table. Then he spied the box. His eyes narrowed. "What's that?" he asked suspiciously.
"Nothing!" Ginny blurted out, and before her confused and upset husband could inquire further she grabbed the box and ran from the room, sweeping into the bathroom and barricading the door shut with her back as she slid down it. Breathing heavily, she suddenly felt guilty again for running out on her husband. Didn't he have a right to know? But then, she thought, would he want to know? It would almost certainly infuriate him beyond reason, especially given that he could do nothing about it. Wasn't it her burden, primarily, to carry?
Ginny sighed and slid the box towards her. Folded neatly within their cardboard confines, nestled amidst paper stuffing, lay garment upon garment of very, very expensive lingerie. Some of it was black, some of it red, some of it grey, some of it green. Some of it was lacy, some was smooth. Some of it was shear, while some of it was opaque. Some was revealing, some was concealing. Some of it was comfortable and practical, some of it was meant to do nothing but scream 'come fuck me.' All of it was designed to tempt; to highlight her curves and seduce even the most zealous ascetic. And all of it was precisely to her measurements. At once, Ginny felt flares of emotion, amongst them indignation, delight, anger, satisfaction, disgust, pleasure, violation, and eagerness. She felt like a pampered sex toy, which, she realized a second later, was exactly what she now was. Feeling the emotions overwhelming her, Ginny closed the box and her eyes, and breathed. Calming down enough to deal with the backhanded, self-serving gift, Ginny opened the box and pulled out the note that was lying atop all the fabric. It read
Concubine,
You are to burn or dispose of all your old undergarments, save for your bridal lingerie, which you are to send to me. From now on, you are to wear no underwear other than what I buy for you. Feel free to wear anything I send you at your own convenience. Also feel free to keep it as prominently or secretly as you desire. However, should your husband ask where any of it is from you are not to answer him.
Your master,
Lord Draco Malfoy.
Nervously, Ginny swallowed. Nevertheless, as soon as Harry had left all her old underwear had left her house, the lingerie she had worn when she had lost her virginity to Harry sent off to his rival. When the redhead finally changed into one of Malfoy's bra and panty sets for the first time, she realized she had never felt so thoroughly owned. Though on the outside she might still appear to be Harry's wife, she realized, it would only take stripping her down to her knickers for anyone to see that she was now Draco Malfoy's woman. She had also never felt sexier.
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A few days passed, Ginny getting used to her new wardrobe, and Harry's wife found herself walking up the steps to one of Malfoy's residences. Unlike Malfoy Manor, which was large and imposing, this particular cottage was small and deceptively cozy. She wasn't quite sure why she had come to the cottage alone, without anyone knowing, except for the inclination that Malfoy's latest note probably had the largest part to do with it. It had been worded as a request to have lunch with him, but Ginny knew it was more of a demand. Rather than deal with whatever retribution Malfoy could come up with, she gave in and decided to come to the lunch. So she told herself.
The lunch was deceptively good like the cottage was deceptively cozy. Were it not for the way Malfoy behaved with her most of the time, Ginny might almost have said he was being respectful of her and, by extension of her marriage, the man who had saved his life. They — or, rather, he — talked about thoroughly nonsexual topics for the lunch, and by the time it was over Ginny almost thought she would arrive home without being dominated by her master. Almost. Until, as they stood, he told her "Take off your clothes."
"What?" Ginny exclaimed.
"Take off your clothes," he said more slowly. "I want to see what the lingerie I got for you looks like."
The redhead flushed, but obeyed her master all the same. Robe, shirt, and skirt came off until she was standing in the small living room wearing nothing but heels, a bra, and panties. Never before had she been so exposed to Malfoy. Not since she had been auctioned off, and even then they hadn't been this close. Eyes alight with unnamed emotions, her husband's rival circled her with visible appreciation. Almost hesitantly, his hand came up to brush the waistband of her panties, ghosting over the fabric and then trailing over her exposed skin before running along her bra. Ginny shuddered and closed her eyes.
His mouth came close to her ear. "Kiss me," he whispered. Ginny shook her head, and Malfoy drew away. She opened her eyes, and he was sitting in the armchair in front of her. His blue eyes bored into her own hazel ones. "Kiss me," he commanded, and his expression was so imperious that Ginny found herself moving towards him. Internally she battled. Being kissed by him was one thing, but kissing him voluntarily? How could she do such a thing? There was a line in the sand there. Her lips met his. It was chaste and brief, but when Ginny pulled away there was satisfaction in his eyes. "Now, I want you to really kiss me," he said. His hands were on her forearms, which lay on the arms of the armchair, and she couldn't move away. Her barely clad body hovered over him. She looked deeply into his eyes and found them unyielding. Obediently, she pressed her lips back against his, but this time opened her mouth and pushed her tongue forward.
What was she doing? She was snogging Malfoy! And he hadn't forced her! A part of her mind tried to get Ginny to stop, but it was hopeless. Her body wouldn't comply. In fact, it lay down and pressed itself against its master. Their kisses deepened, and Malfoy's hands began exploring her body without protest. It grew heated and feverish, and by the end of it Ginny found herself wishing it would be followed by an orgasm. Malfoy didn't seem inclined to oblige, and Ginny found herself returning home unsatisfied.
Again, this seemed to have set a new boundary. When he didn't have her wearing nothing but a summer dress he had her wearing nothing but a pair of the lingerie he got her. Sometimes he had her in her quidditch uniform or regular clothes to shake things up, but mostly it seemed his two favorite styles were far more skimpy. At the same time, he was now oftentimes insistent that she take more of a lead during their sessions, or at least that she take initiative. Soon enough, Ginny found herself planting kisses all over Malfoy's naked neck and chest, and after a little while, when he seemed to think she was comfortable, he moved on.
Yet again Malfoy sat in his arm chair, though decidedly less clothed than before, with a fairly active Ginny on top of him, grinding in a set of particularly shear, emerald lingerie. She was kissing his chest, sometimes flicking her tongue over his nipples, when she felt his hands on her hand. The touch was gentle and nonintrusive, and initially Ginny thought he was simply holding her where he wanted her. Then, she realized when she found herself kissing hairs and his bellybutton, she was being moved downwards. Sure enough, soon her lips were on the fabric of his trousers, kissing his bulge.
Someone's hand — she wasn't sure if it was his or her own — unzipped his pants, and for the first time she beheld his manhood. It was certainly above average, she thought, but it had been so long since she had seen her husband's penis that she couldn't tell if her master was bigger or not. Harry was fairly well endowed, but he had never been so dominant with her, and the effect seemed to magnify her master's size. Without words, he took his mostly erect manhood in-hand and brought it closer to her mouth.
"Malfoy…" she started.
"You've given blowjobs before, I assume?" he demanded before she could continue.
"Yes, but I can't do this…" Giving her husband's rival a blowjob was too much. Kissing him was one thing, but this would be irrevocable.
"I know, baby. I want you to suck me off, but you're Harry's wife. You couldn't." Even as he was saying this he was rubbing the head of his cock across her lips. "You really shouldn't suck another man's cock, no matter how much you want to. You want to, don't you, concubine? You want to take your master into your pretty little mouth." Ginny almost opened her mouth, but fearing Malfoy might take that as some sort of invitation she resisted the urge. Malfoy seemed to sense this. "But we can't. Instead…" He pushed her to the floor into front of him, laying her down, but not before pulling off her panties and exposing her wet, bare pussy. With little prompting, his tongue was on her, and Ginny was writhing and bucking.
Two orgasms came before the redhead couldn't take anymore, and Malfoy sat back on his armchair, hauling her forward to lie on top of him. Belatedly, Ginny realized in her post-orgasm stupor that her master's hard cock was lying in her cleavage. With a little motion she tried to shift, but instead Malfoy merely pushed her down slightly. At the unexpected motion, Ginny gasped, and with a quick move Malfoy slid the head of his cock between her red lips. Her immediate reaction was to try to get it out, but her master held firm, and Ginny's struggles soon subsided. Once they had, her master pushed further into her, moving her head downwards into his crotch.
At first, Malfoy had to do the work for Harry's wife, moving her head up and down on his length. After a little while, however, and a stern look, Ginny had begun to get more into her blowjob. Malfoy had to admit that she was very good at them. She licked and sucked, slobbering over his shaft, responding in just the right ways to his grunts and urges to go on, never scraping him with her teeth and even attempting to take him into her throat. Finally, Malfoy drew close to his release, and the redhead going down on him intensified her efforts. "I'm going to cum in your mouth, Ginny," he grunted, saying her name for the first time, and Ginny's eyes widened. She tried to withdraw his penis from her mouth, but he held fast so she instead prepared for his load. Once, twice, three times she bobbed down on him, and then he twitched… "Oh, Merlin," he cried, and suddenly Harry's wife's mouth was filled with seed. Not allowing her to take him out, the redhead was forced to swallow his load, and even once he had stopped spurting she was forced to lick him up and down a few times so that his cock was completely free of cum. With a contented sigh, her master fell back. "Just as good as I imagined," he told her. "This is the first time you've made me cum, concubine."
Despicable though it was, Ginny felt a flare of pride at that.
Edited 2017.6.15
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