Spiderweb
Ladtheove
Chapter 5- Seed
Notes:
There it goes the fifth chapter, dark with rape as I warned. So if you are sensible, please, don't read.
On the other hand I have finally found a beta willing to undertake both 'Spiderweb' and 'Dementor kiss'. (A truly gargantuan work) So starting from this one, you will finally be able to read edited and corrected chapters, thanks to Stevie, the one brave enough to grab the hydra of my drarry fics and put them to right.
Thanks Stevie.
oOo
Draco's reaction was instantaneous.
His knee connected with the stomach of the monster, stealing his breath and throwing the creature away from himself, long enough for Draco to escape the pile of furs.
'I have to get out of here, now!'
He ran through the network of tunnels without daring to look back, knowing he was staking it all on this chance of escape, in a mad rush towards the exit.
The monster had seemed insectoid, and perhaps he lived in a cave out of sensitivity to light.
If he was lucky, if he really was, that creature would be photosensitive, and would not chase him into the open. That was, if outside it was daytime. He could not be sure in those caves. And that was only possible if he was quick enough to get out of there before being caught.
Draco knew it was crazy.
That thing was a predator, knew those caves, and it was fast, very fast.
Draco was injured and in pain; wandless.
But he couldn't stay. He would not stay!
The memory of what insects do with their larvae- injecting them into other unsuspecting living creatures, so that they could hatch from within and eat the poor wretch, still living, from the inside out- sent a shudder through him.
The blond had no doubt about what the other would do, if he caught him. And he would sooner die.
So he forced his pace even more, despite how weak he was. His bare feet cutting themselves against the stone floor, his body resenting every step, reminding him of its just closed wounds. The exhaustion, the stress of the last few hours, panic, pain, anguish...
Hi whole body ached, as if his muscles, veins and tendons, were torn rags hanging on his battered skeleton.
Yet, Draco refused to crumble.
He ran through tunnels that twisted like snakes, sometimes opening into huge caverns, or shrinking into low passageways spaces he only could go through on his knees.
It was always illuminated by the eerie light of the fungi.
The soft green carpet crawled through walls and ceilings in the strangest hairy patches, whose sickly luminescence created shadows that were both ever changing and highly disturbing, between the naturally wet columns of stalactites and stalagmites. It was if it were all a painting of a place like that right out of a nightmare.
And that was how Draco felt- as if he were in a nightmare, trying to escape the monster of the moment.
He stumbled on the brink of collapse, the injection of adrenaline produced by fear beginning to lose its effect.
He grit his teeth against the pain, and forced himself to take a few steps more.
But he felt as fragile as an eggshell, and so very dizzy...
He stumbled again.
And this time he could no longer go on.
His knees slammed into the stone floor, cutting them to shreds, and he could barely manage to stop his fall with his palms.
His arms and legs were shaking. In fact, he realized, his whole body trembled.
The winter air trapped in the caves was much colder than the in the outside, although in here the snow could not reach. The absolute lack of the warmth caused by the sun, the harsh stone walls with its luminous fungi, and the mugginess of the air had helped create an atmosphere like that of an enchanted cold box.
His muscles were seizing. His blood felt thick in his veins, as sticky as syrup, slowly sliding down his body in rivulets. He was suddenly warm…His gaze was clouding over...
He knew what the symptoms of hypothermia were.
If he didn't do something soon he wouldn't have to worry about the monster; the cold would end Draco before he could catch him.
With the last of his strength, he managed to half crawl, half drag himself, into a corner between two stalagmites. His best bet to keep warm was enclosed spaces. The small hole in the shadows had the added benefit of serving as an adequate hiding place, hidden from whomever tried to catch him.
Curled up on himself, knees firmly drawn against his chest, Draco adopted the foetal position in an attempt to retain the most amount of heat possible, and to become as small as he could, so as not to be seen.
However...
At first, the fatigue that was closing his eyes clouded the distant sound.
He was almost asleep, about to be carried away by the river of tiredness and the cocoon of cold, when his survival instincts- the ones that had saved him many times before- began screaming like crazy, forcing him to pay attention.
He soon realized that the noise was coming his way. A soft tap-tap-tap, like metal against stone. He frowned, trying to force his tired brain to focus, to remember. He had heard that sound before...
The sudden recognition made his heart quicken, as if he had undergone the charge of a defibrillator.
He was suddenly, painfully awake.
It was the sound of the legs of an acromantula against the rock.
oOo
(Harry)
Reverting to his spider form had taken him a while. Some minutes, one which Malfoy took advantage of.
But Harry didn't care; he knew his prey could not go very far in his condition.
The surprising thing was that he had had even the strength to try to escape.
In fact, it had been the surprise, and nothing else, which had allowed the blond to flee in the first place.
Harry had been too perplexed, touching the place he had been hit, which didn't even hurt, to react when he had started running.
And now he needed to go get him. Tedious.
'Stupid, stupid, Malfoy. You couldn't sit still and make this a little easier for both of us, right? It had to be the hard way.'
He snapped his jaws and flexed his eight long legs, leaning forward imperceptibly to better perceive the trail left by his scent.
This was why he had changed.
This form gave him the sensitivity of a spider. He could smell the scent of Malfoy. Distinguish his breath in the echo of the caves, follow his trail as if he had written it on the floor with red paint.
'Stupid, stupid Malfoy.' As if he hadn't enough to worry about, what with the burden of so much responsibility.
Now, the Slytherin's actions were causing a disagreement between his base natures, which the day before had been in perfect balance.
His spider side found the attempt at escape intolerable. He demanded that Malfoy be made to bow down, be possessed, marked as his; for Harry to stablish their dominance in ways that were impossible to ever erase.
His human side, however, squirmed between compassion, (the result of having experienced the same agonising changes), and the visceral hatred of the man, (result of knowing what Malfoy was), and the memories of his ruthlessness at Hogwarts.
His consciousness as guardian if the forest roared against that unnecessary delay in what should be done. Reminding him of the danger such a delay could bring, and all that rested on him.
The small human part that pitied the blond man was lost completely and crushed under his base instincts, responsibilities, and hatred.
So when he found Malfoy cowering in a small hollow, trembling and defiant, despite the panic he could smell in him? The last thing in his mind was compassion.
oOo
(Draco)
He could hear the acromantula getting close.
It didn't matter how well he was hiding. Somehow, the spider seemed to know where to look.
Draco wanted to scream, could feel the sound, a challenge against the world, building up in his throat, so strong as to almost overwhelm him. But he swallowed it down with difficulty.
If he was going to die, he would do so with his head held high. Like the man he was, and not as the cowardly child he had been.
His only consolation was that it was the spider, and not the monster who intended to impregnate him, that was one coming.
The acromantula would devour him quickly, a far more decent death than that of agonizing for months with the knowledge that all the while a couple dozen larvae devoured his bowels.
Definitely better.
But the notion was of little comfort, when he remembered all the people who he wouldn't get to see. The ones in Hogwarts he had failed to warn.
With him dead, the danger posed by the traitor will continue to endanger them, making them vulnerable.
He blinked rapidly.
He wished he could have seen them, just one last time.
A shadow loomed over his hiding place.
The huge arachnid watched him with eyes bright as emeralds, as cold and hard as the gemstone itself, and were just as beautiful as they were terrifying.
What a strange thought to have in this moment.
oOo
(Harry)
Harry snapped his jaws furiously, stopping a few steps from Malfoy.
Poison dripping from his fangs, as he hissed in a poorly veiled threat.
The wizard should be afraid. But the old Slytherin seemed at peace with himself, although, somehow, melancholic. Certainly not regretful of his try at an escape.
That did nothing but infuriate him even more.
"Did you thought you could escape me?!"
The vicious roar made Draco flinch, slightly sore. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically, and he just wanted peace. If he was going to die, he preferred to avoid the wait.
The spy gifted the spider with a bright gaze of determination. Still a spark of pride in his eyes, despite no longer having any hope.
"Finish me already." Draco's voice emerged crackled, at the brink of collapse, yet strong in its weakness.
Harry bore his fangs aggressively, torn between animal instinct and human feelings.
The desire to admire Malfoy for his integrity, and the instinct that demanded punishment.
However, above these two forces, the sense of duty prevailed; whatwas expected of him, what he had to do, was a physical force pushing him. It made Harry feel confused, almost crazy, for just a moment.
Until the order of his priorities remerged as a slap in his mind, making it clear what he had to do.
The idea made him nauseous, and yet there was a heat in his arteries that had nothing to do with hate. His rational mind began to dissolve.
Calling a fraction of his human nature forth, he anchored it to the animal lust, and let the resulting mixture emerge, to the horror of the young Malfoy.
Draco stifled a cry, a wail of horror, when he saw chitin, muscles, and organs, merge into a new mass, with a series of wet sounds that churned his stomach.
The changing shape revealed, with a strange metamorphosis like that of as larva, a new being before him. A monster he would rather not know.
And this time, he had no energy to run.
"No!" His complaint got silenced, as claws pushed him brutally against the stalagmite in which he was leaning, stealing his very breath.
Draco fought desperately, trying to escape, twisting and striking with all his remaining strength.
Trying with all his might to resist something he knew would be much worse than any group of Death Eaters.
But the monster was too strong.
oOo
Malfoy was frantic, fighting him as if he were willing to give up his last breath, in order to escape.
And Harry had more than enough of that.
Too much guilt for what he had to do, too much hatred for this young Death Eater, too much compassion, too much anger. All those feelings combined into a vortex that swept through him.
He grabbed Draco's hair, pulling his head back savagely, ripping a cry of pain from his lips.
Arching his neck into a painful curve on the verge of rupture, exposing the vulnerable column of his pale throat, covered in cold sweat, to his own hungry look.
Skin trembled under his predatory look.
Harry saw Malfoy swallow convulsively. Muscles and tendons flexed under the glossy surface, bringing the delicate blue veins to focus; incredibly delicious, viciously beautiful.
Unconsciously, dragged by the spider within him, Harry licked his lips, the tip of his black tongue caressing them briefly.
He opened his jaws, bending to smell the skin, nose barely touching the point where the neck meet collarbone; that fragile union of delicate bones and pearly softness.
The scent of fear, pain, and the challenge he posed filled his nostrils, burning him inside, raising a primary desire he urged to satisfy.
It burned a dark blue blaze, like tongues of fire on oil, just as quick to spread, as difficult to extinguish.
He closed his jaws around that pale throat, fangs digging deeply, savouring the exotic blood, so similar to his own, and released his poison into those virgin veins.
oOo
Draco gasped, incapable of anything else.
Felt the first tingle of poison, spreading through his guts, traveling sharply through his blood, up his spine to his brain. Invading him with a burning languor that softened his muscles and soothed his nerves, forcing him to collapse into the arms of the monster.
Pupils as black mirrors, eyes dilated and captured under the influence of a poison deadly to any other creature that was not of their kind. But on him, made submissive by it, the effect was that of a strangely calming drug. Nothing but appealingly exotic.
So drugged was he that Draco barely felt when he was taken by the shoulders and forced to turn. His body was easily posed against the rock.
The monster was behind him, nibbling his neck possessively. Blood slowly slid down his neck in delicate drops that reached his chest.
The sensation sent a soft chill down his body. He felt relaxed, calm ... It was getting hard to think. But he knew there was something he was forgetting, something important ...
"... what?..." he stammered.
The hot breath on his neck moved to his ear.
"Do not move. Sssssh…"
Fingers slid to the sharp curve of his hip.
How did they get there?
Draco bit his lip, looking to the pain as a point of focus, so he could make sense of the cacophony in his brain ...
What conclusion he reached wasn't amusing.
The fear was still there, produced by the notion of what the monster meant to do, and it struggled to make its voice heard against the sensual feel of a tongue of silk, sliding down his spine, slowly, vertebrae by vertebrae.
"No," he managed to utter against the unnatural languor in his blood.
"Do not resist," the dark voice whispered. A deep growl lay under the words, designed to subjugate him completely.
Draco shuddered instinctively, gently, but did not let the thought he had managed to catch go.
Grabbing all the strength he still retained, he fought against the midst of honeyed warmth that was asking him to let go, and let himself be lost in its embrace.
"No," he muttered again. Still, the sound came out hot and panting.
Talking was like trying to swallow a small, slippery animal. He realized that his forehead was resting on the stone, in a purely submissive, involuntary gesture, but the feeling of the rock was nice and cool against his fevered skin ... and his body just was so heavy...
He was more forceful with his next push against the stone. The movement rasped his lips against it, a small flash of pain which pierced the fog that had nearly swallowed his mind.
Curling his fingers into the stalagmite to try and anchor himself to reality, Draco didn't abandon his challenging words.
Harry, who had been trying to control himself, felt his instincts as a predator jump at the smell of blood.
He growled like a beast establishing its dominance. His claws dug into the white flesh of Malfoy's hips, barely holding back the desire to break the skin, leaving marks that would later become violent bruises.
Signs of his possessiveness.
"Don't," he asked in an animal growl; words were getting difficult to remember.
Animal instinct intoxicated him as he lifted Malfoy's hips sharply, putting him in position that clearly showed who was the dominant one there.
Draco gasped. And he finally understood what the other really meant to do.
He would not inject his larvae into Draco… he wanted to fuck him.
The fear that had been holding him eased a bit. The syrupy feeling in his veins seemed to melt and warm up with the idea, slip into his skull like honey tendrils.
Surely, being penetrated by the creature would not kill him.
Yet, it still wasn't something he wanted to undergo ... and the substance trying to force him to accept it, could go to hell!
He concentrated on the icy, and abrasive surface of the stone against his skin, threatening to lift scratches and abrasions if he moved too much.
And although he was barely able to speak, he would not be enslaved.
"No," Draco repeated again, against the air caught in his throat. Hot… so hot it burned.
The monster growled menacingly, the grip tightening until it hurt. The blond panted, sure that claws would break flesh, but they did not.
What they did was leave the curve of his hips, to put long fingers, covered with chitin, between his thighs. Forcing them open.
Saliva dried in his throat.
He pressed his digits against stone, preparing for the pain he knew was coming, with the same stoicism he had looked at the prisoners in the dungeons of the Dark Lord, there to be tortured.
'Perhaps this was his payment for not being able to do anything for them,' he thought, gripped by delirium.
It was becoming difficult to escape the poison in his system.
He could barely think.
Draco realized he was burning, truly feverish. Despite the cold in the tunnels, he was sweating. He could feel moisture gather on his back and on his forehead, sticking his hair to his temples...
oOo
The scent of Malfoy's pheromones was impossible to ignore.
Sweet, powerful, like sweet dark chocolate he had not tried for more than ten years.
Harry buried his nose in that throat, sticky with blood and sweat. The smell was delicious.
Desire, and the dark perverse sense of long-awaited revenge, rose the fiery tongues of his lust into a single bonfire. And when he pressed against Malfoy to inhale more deeply, he realized that he was tall and solid as a rock.
Fully aroused, despite the tiny part of human consciousness he could hear, vaguely shouting at the back of his mind, against what he was about to do.
But the instincts of the black widow were swallowing the voice with insulting ease.
He may later, as Harry Potter, agonize about what tonight was going to be done, but right now, the spider and the guardian held the reins.
'Mine, mine, mine, mine …' the spider kept grunting like a red mantra.
'Do it and save the forest,' was carved with steely determination in the mind of the guardian.
It was thanks to that trace of humanity that refused to be ignored that Harry sank his fingers in the mud that accumulated in the humid corners of the cave; a green, organic substance that slicked his phalanxes easily, and would slide between the buttocks of Malfoy, and make less painful what was to come.
Draco stifled a gasp of pain when wet and cold, fingers penetrated him.
The feeling made his stomach contract with nausea and disgust. At the same time, his skin quivered beneath a wave of honeyed warmth that seared his nerves.
The collision of the two sensations, so violent, made him weak. And if the monster had not been squeezing him so tightly against the rock, he would have collapsed on the floor.
'What has he done to me?!'
The substance in his blood, that poison ... panic, fear, terror... stabbed the fog in his mind.
His eyes glazed and everything went blurry.
He had believed his tears to be dry, since the years he underwent in the shadow of the Dark Lord, but this ... this was an emotional agony he had never been subjected to.
Unable to stand, he closed his eyes and buried his face in the rock, covering the tears that threatened to escape his eyelashes with the curtain of his hair.
He couldn't see anything, just feel how that ... being, used him.
"No," the blond whispered again, just, hating himself for being so weak, unable to do anything.
Because the poison was making the pressure of those fingers into something almost pleasant.
Harry ignored the smell of tears while preparing Malfoy almost abruptly, feeling him tense under his hands, even when the poison should have him groaning under his body.
Right now, in his mind, the primary, wild part, of the black widow, consumed him with the desire to make that pale submissive his.
Mark him, own him, take him.
He couldn't wait enough for Malfoy to relax. Lust was iron-hot in his lower abdomen.
He leaned even more on Malfoy, pressing his chest completely against his back.
Savouring the smell of fear and pheromones in the curve of his bloody throat.
He grabbed his hips, spread his legs and went in, with a primary roar.
Draco gasped, on the verge of a sob, but grit his teeth and took it. As the feeling of being slowly but unstoppably impaled invaded him.
That hard as a rock monstrosity painfully carved a space within him
Not so much sensation as psychological torture.
It hurt, it was too big, but the heat in his bones did not allow him to concentrate on those feelings for long. And what could have been a truly torturous experience, with his body torn apart from within, was being marginally bearable. At least on the physical plane.
Mentally...
"Uhng …" Part of what consciousness remained of his mind cowered, whimpering, pleading to be left alone. But most of him remembered his pride, his integrity, and raged against being manipulated and used.
However, each rubbing of chitin against skin, made that part crumble into pure agony.
Harry gasped, and all his self-control vanished.
The feeling of that silky tunnel closed around his member, warm and throbbing, was crazy.
Draco felt perfect beneath him.
Submitted, infinitesimally trembling, panting, his platinum blond hair stuck to his cheeks and neck, as a last line of blood trickled viciously down the curve of his throat.
It was madness.
He licked the vital liquid, savouring the amazing taste, and charged forward with wild abandon.
Draco gasped. Finally, a broken sob escaping his bloody lips, broken under the pressure of his own teeth.
He could not stand it, could not. The trace of consciousness that he had been holding escaped through his fingers, and finally the honey on his head devoured him completely.
Everything stopped hurting, and nothing else mattered.
The wet sound of flesh meeting flesh, of heavy breathing, barely contained sobs, gasps of animalistic pleasure, melted into a symphony that filled Harry's mind.
He could feel the caress of the white buttocks against his testicles whenever he penetrated Malfoy to the hilt, the curve of his own claws holding his hips in place, as he moved inside him with increasing force, the taste of blood on the tongue.
He accelerated, taking him brutally, tearing a guttural strange sound from the blond. Pushing in and out of him faster and faster, harder and harder, until he thought he couldn't take it anymore.
His body seemed made of lightning, it felt like a hurricane about to break; he needed to break.
Harry increased his pace, putting the full strength of his powerful muscles behind each thrust, drawing Draco's hips near, to receive him deeper, forcing his legs further apart.
Finally, he impaled himself with all his strength one last time, his back beautifully arched, while a primary, brutal, and savage roar escaped his throat was left ringing in the caves, and his semen flooded Draco in an amazing and hearty burst.
Draco sighed, just as the monster's cum filled him, tears he hadn't felt fall painting fiery streaks down his cheeks.
There was so much, so much semen inside himself ... he kept thinking, a disjointed phrase that disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. He was so tired ... it was so hot ...
Panting, Harry drew out, immediately putting his fingers in place of his manhood, preventing the seed's attempt to escape the body of the Slytherin. Quickly, with a whisper of innate magic, a little cobweb was conjured in which to seal him, at least until the next day.
The best thing to ensure that the impregnation was successful.
And finally, with a last whisper of magic, he plunged Malfoy into deep sleep. Now that his human part was awake, the last thing he wanted was to see his guilt reflected in those gray eyes.
To be continued