Fic: Good Girls and Bad Girls by gamma_x_orionis
Title: Good Girls and Bad Girls
Username: gamma_x_orionis
Pairing: Pansy/Padma
Type: Femslash
Prompt: #21 - Padma is not innocent, and she might be reserved but she isn't shy.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,950
Warnings/content: (Relatively mild) dub-con, bullying, humiliation, magical-type bondage, tribbing, semi-public sex.
Summary: Padma doesn’t like Pansy, and after being picked on and told over and over that she needs to have more fun, she snaps. By the time she’s finished, she likes Pansy a lot more.
Notes: Thank you very much, nearlyconscious, for the amazing prompt ;) Thank you also to shy_of_reality for her work on the fest, and for my dear beta and her fabulous last-minute work. ♥
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters/references are property of JK Rowling and associates. No copyright infringement is intended.
Good Girls and Bad Girls
Padma was engrossed in conversation with her sister, and on her way to Herbology, and thinking of absolutely nothing aside from those two subjects, when Pansy Parkinson sidled up behind her and snapped her bra strap for the third time that week.
Padma froze, the hard snap of elastic against the back of her shoulder enough to make her face burn and her palms go damp. She could tell it was Pansy from the quiet, suppressed giggle-giggle-snort noise that she was making, but she didn’t want to turn around and face her.
Parvati did not have that reaction.
“Hey!” she snapped, spinning around. “What did you do that for?”
Padma closed her eyes briefly, then turned as well. She crossed her arms firmly over her ample chest, where Pansy’s eyes seemed to go every time they were in close proximity to one another.
“Just a bit of fun,” Pansy said. “Nothing much.”
Parvati leaned over towards Pansy until they were practically nose-to-nose. Her jaw jutted out aggressively and her dark eyes were narrowed into slits.
“I’ve got a good idea, Parkinson,” she said. “Why don’t you just leave my sister alone?”
“Why don’t I?” Pansy propped one finger on her cheek and tipped her head in a mock-contemplative pose. “Gosh, that’s a hard one to answer. I suppose because… I don’t care.”
“Leave it,” Padma said tiredly. She grabbed Parvati’s arm and tried to pull her back. “Come on, there’s no point-”
“Yes, listen to your sister, Parvati,” Pansy crooned back. “Don’t pick a fight. You’ll just get yourself into trouble.”
“Shut up,” Padma told her, but stilled Parvati’s hand when she reached for her wand. She glared scathingly at Pansy, who was wearing an infuriating half-smirk. “She’s not worth it.”
“Oh, that’s right. Not worth it, am I?” Pansy raised one eyebrow. “Like you’re not absolutely fuming right now. You’re just too much of a coward to do anything…”
“I’m not a coward,” Padma said. She tried to keep her voice calm, but failed miserably. Her voice shook. She clenched her hands into fists and dug her nails hard into her palms.
“Oh, aren’t you? Is that why you’re just letting me walk all over you?” Pansy taunted, and then, as if to prove her point, grabbed the end of Padma’s plait and pulled it so hard that she stumbled and would have fallen down the stairs if Parvati hadn’t grabbed her arm to hold her up.
“You keep your hands off her!” Parvati said loudly.
“Let her tell me to do that herself,” Pansy said back, equally loudly. Padma’s face had begun to burn. People were staring at them, and all with slightly mocking looks around their faces, like they all knew that Padma was just letting her sister take care of her.
“You’re a real bitch, you know,” Parvati said, her eyes narrowing into slits. She planted her hands on her hips and glared down at Pansy, shuffling slightly in front of Padma in some sort of vain attempt to protect her. Padma felt a deep and desperate wish that the stairs would open up and swallow her completely.
“I take pride in it,” Pansy said with a careless wave of her hand.
“Parvati,” Padma muttered in her sister’s ear. “Leave it. You’ll be late to class - go on, I’ll be fine, I can take care of myself.”
Parvati whipped her head around and arched her eyebrows at Padma. “Oh, really? This isn’t about being able to take care of yourself, this is about Pansy Parkinson being an absolutely worthless sack of-”
“Classy, Parvati, really, that is,” Pansy interrupted dryly. “Why not turn around and insult me to my face?”
“Please go,” Padma pleaded. The longer she stayed here with Pansy, and with Parvati trying to stick up for her, the more trouble she was going to end up in. Pansy had too many people on her side and too much nerve herself for Parvati to be able to protect Padma from her. Besides, Padma had stopped wanting her sister’s protection a long time ago.
Parvati shot Pansy one last scathing look, and Padma was deathly afraid that she was going to refuse, that she was going to stay there and continue to make things worse, but to her relief, Parvati did go. She pushed Pansy out of the way as she walked past her, but she didn’t say anything more.
The momentary relief that Padma felt when Parvati left was promptly eclipsed when she realized that Pansy was still there, and now there was no one in between them.
Pansy had a horrible little smirk on her face. She rested one hand on her hip and sneered at Padma. “Well? Don’t we have class together? Aren’t you going to walk with me?”
Padma pressed her lips into a tight line. She would certainly not skip Herbology on account of Pansy. That would be letting her win, however tempting the idea of saying “No” and walking away seemed at that moment.
She held her head high and walked past Pansy, keeping her eyes firmly forward.
“Do you know what your problem is, Patil?” Pansy asked, following her very closely, much to her dismay. “Your problem is that you take everything too seriously. Me, if someone snapped my bra strap, I’d just laugh it off and keep going, you know? It’s not like it’s that bad of a thing to do.” She paused, clearly hoping for some sort of response from Padma, and when she didn’t receive one, she went on. “But you get yourself all worked up, and then your sister gets all protective because she’s a good sister, and she tries to be all intimidating, and that - well, frankly, it’s an embarrassment to watch.”
Fuck off, Padma wanted to say. She didn’t.
“You need to lighten up,” Pansy continued. She perched on the railing of the staircase and slid down, keeping pace with Padma, and somehow managing not to unbalance herself. “Skive off a few classes. Skip a few assignments. Fuck a few boys. Or girls, if that’s what you like.”
She’s just trying to wind you up, Padma told herself, but even though she could tell herself that, and understand it on an intellectual level, she couldn’t quite prevent herself from getting wound up. She wanted to punch the stupid smirk off Pansy’s face. She wanted to push her and watch her fall off the railing until she landed with a crunch on the floor below. She wanted to grab her and shake her and slam her head against the wall, slam her against the wall.
“Just trying to help,” Pansy said. They had reached the bottom of the staircase now, and Padma sped up. Once she got to the greenhouses, Professor Sprout wouldn’t let Pansy keep talking to her, and what a relief that would be. “You’d be happier for it.”
“That,” Padma said, through gritted teeth, “is your opinion.”
“That’s a fact.” Pansy seemed pleased that she had gotten a reaction. She was so smug, so disgustingly confident that she knew better than Padma did what to do with her life…
Padma stopped dead, and Pansy ran into her. She stood still for a few moments, taking deep, steadying breaths, and then turned on Pansy. She must have been glaring at her terribly, because, for the first time, Pansy looked a little nervous.
“Right,” she said. “All right. You think I’m a prig, is that it?”
“That about sums it up, yeah.”
“And,” Padma continued, biting off each word sharply, “if I just - how did you put it? - skive off a few classes, fuck a few people… I’ll somehow magically become much more tolerant of you being an absolutely useless waste of air?”
Pansy snorted softly. “Yeah, that’s it.”
“Right.” Padma felt something inside her break, and the next thing she knew, she had her hand tightly around Pansy’s upper arm. “All right. Let’s conduct a little experiment, then, shall we?”
Pansy’s look of faint nervousness from before was back, and much more intense. “What sort of experiment did you have in mind, then?”
“Just taking your advice.” Padma steered - no, forced - Pansy back, away from the doors and the stairs. She scanned over her shoulder, and caught sight of a door, wide open and revealing a deserted room. That would do.
Pansy tried to shake her off, but Padma had her in a vice-like grip. Her fingers were digging hard into her flesh, hard enough that they would probably leave marks, maybe even bruises. Padma had never bruised someone before. She’d never even been in a fight.
She shoved Pansy into the empty room, then closed the door behind herself. Pansy’s eyes were wide and practically terrified now, and Padma chuckled quietly. Was that how she looked when she saw Pansy coming and tried to run away before she could be caught and humiliated? Probably. She wondered if Pansy felt anywhere near as vulnerable as she did.
“Come on, now, don’t be scared,” she said, leaning against the door. “We’re going to have fun.”
“Fun?” Pansy was clearly trying to sound defiant. She was failing. “What do you mean by fun?”
Padma pulled her wand out of her bag and twirled it between her fingers - a little trick that Parvati had taught her. Parvati could do it quickly and make it look very relaxed and cool. Padma could only do it slowly, but she hoped that under the circumstances, that would appear fashionably sinister. Pansy’s eyes flicked to it.
“You can’t hurt me,” she said boldly. “I’ll tell Dumbledore.”
“I’m not going to hurt you. Didn’t I say we were going to have fun?”
Before Pansy could answer, Padma had slashed her wand through the air and Pansy toppled, landing hard on her backside on the ground. She let out a cry of “Oof!” and her legs sprawled out when she fell, giving Padma a glimpse of her white knickers. Another light swipe of her wand and Pansy’s legs were wide apart, and much as she struggled to bring them together, she couldn’t quite move them.
“What the Hell-”
“Nice knickers, Parkinson,” Padma said, smirking. She leaned down so she was nose-to-nose with Pansy, who looked amusingly helpless and doll-like on the ground with her legs spread wide. “And here I thought you were the black lace and satin type. Actually,” she added, all her vitriol for Pansy bubbling beneath the surface, and every insult, every degrading comment that she had ever thought coming to her lips with perfect ease, “I thought you weren’t the type to wear knickers at all.” She waved her wand lightly, and Pansy’s knickers disappeared completely. Pansy let out a strangled cry of protest.
“You’re a bloody pervert, aren’t you!”
“Just a little.” Padma slid her hand between Pansy’s thighs, and heard a hitch in Pansy’s breath. She searched briefly, and heard Pansy gasp when she pushed her thumb against her clit.
“Fuck off,” Pansy mumbled.
“Yeah, right.” Padma circled the nub with her nail. “Like you actually want me to stop. If you wanted me to stop, you’d push me away - your arms are still working.”
But Pansy didn’t push her away. She was leaning back, and using her arms to support herself. Her breasts were heaving, straining against her blouse.
“Doesn’t take much, does it?” Padma asked. She pressed Pansy’s clit again and watched her jump. “It doesn’t take much to make you wet. I mean, I thought you’d resist for at least a few minutes, given how convinced you were that I’m some sort of embodiment of naiveté. But you’re not even trying…” She slipped her index finger into Pansy and watched her shudder. “And your pussy’s just drenched. You can’t have gotten this wet in the last two minutes.” Padma worked a second finger in and twisted them both inside Pansy, grinding the heel of her hand against her clit. “You must have gotten wet before, yes? Maybe when you were playing around with my bra strap?”
Pansy’s face had gone quite red, and her hips were bucking against Padma’s hand. “You- don’t know- anything,” she said, but the words came out in a stilted groan that made Padma think that she knew quite a bit more than Pansy would admit to.
She pulled her fingers out and wiped them off on Pansy’s skirt. “Right. You didn’t get turned on when you snapped my bra, then? Making me wince? Making my tits bounce?” She put her hands beneath her breasts and pushed them up and together, against her blouse. “Watch,” she added, then leaned over Pansy, propping herself up with one hand and reaching behind herself with the other so she could flick open the clasp of her bra. Her breasts spilled free, and she shimmied the undergarment off, pulling it through the sleeve of her shirt and throwing it aside. Pansy’s eyes were fixed firmly on her nipples, dark beneath the thin white fabric.
“That’s what you wanted to see, wasn’t it?” she breathed, and straddled Pansy’s waist, pushing her flat to the ground and letting her breasts hang just above her face. “I’ve seen you looking at them. What, do you wish you had tits like mine?”
When Pansy didn’t answer, though her breathing continued to come faster and faster, and her eyes seemed glued to Padma’s cleavage, Padma pulled her shirt up. “There. Do you see them? Do they make you hot?”
“Yeah,” Pansy mumbled, her face crimson. “Yeah, all right. Yeah, you’ve got nice tits. Will you let me up now?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Padma leaned forward, and her breasts brushed against Pansy’s face. “You like them so much, why don’t you touch them?”
She’d hardly gotten the words out before Pansy’s hands were up, squeezing and kneading them. Padma rubbed her thigh against Pansy’s pussy, enjoying the way her hips rolled up against her leg and the feeling of slickness on her skin. Pansy was groaning, pulling Padma’s stiff nipples, squirming underneath her, her face slick with sweat.
“Still think I’m a prig?” Padma asked. She sat up and pushed Pansy’s hands off her. “Still think I don’t know how to have fun?”
Pansy’s mouth twisted, and she didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to - Padma already knew the truth.
She stood up, eliciting a sharp whine of protest from Pansy, who clearly took this as an indication that she was leaving.
“Oh, don’t.” She rolled her eyes a little, but couldn’t stop herself from smiling, and then shimmied out of her knickers and kicked them aside. “I’m not letting you have all the fun. Oh - undo your blouse,” she added, and Pansy hastened to obey. Only when Pansy’s small, firm breasts were as exposed as Padma’s full ones did she return to the floor.
She slid up close to Pansy, facing her, then draped her left leg over Pansy’s right and slipped her right underneath Pansy’s left and pushed herself forward until their pussies were pressed together. Pansy whimpered and Padma smiled and braced her hands on the floor, then thrust her hips up, grinding against her.
“Oh fuck” Pansy whispered. Her face was red and her thighs clenched against Padma every time she rubbed against her. Padma’s whole body was coming out in a sweat. Perspiration trickled between her breasts and her upper thighs, where it mixed with her wetness, and with Pansy’s.
The muscles in Pansy’s thighs tensed and strained, pulling against invisible bonds, and Padma groaned as she felt hot liquid gush against her. She shoved her hand down between her thighs, rubbing her clit hard while Pansy groaned and twisted against her, whimpering “Ah, God, Padma, oh fuck,” and only when Padma had come, only when she rode out her orgasm with Pansy’s pussy between her thighs, only when she was quite finished and more satisfied than she had been in a long, long time, did she sit up and look at her partner.
Pansy was a mess. Her short, dark hair was dishevelled, her makeup was streaked, she was sprawled flat on her back, heaving, with her breasts exposed and her skirt up. Her clothes were rumpled.
Padma didn’t think she had ever looked prettier.
She, Padma, hummed while she picked up her wand, straightened her own clothes, slipped her knickers back on. Pansy lay still for a time, then looked up at her, face shining and eyes glowing.
“Aren’t you going to let me up?”
“Mm.” Padma slipped her bag over her shoulder and looked down at Pansy, pretending to consider. “No, actually, I don’t think I will.”
“What?”
“Well, you know, you weren’t very nice to me before,” Padma said, all innocence, as if she hadn’t just fucked the girl onto the floor into oblivion. “I’m not really nice enough to let you treat me like that, and then just give you what you want.”
“But- but-”
Padma kicked Pansy’s bag just out of her reach, then headed for the door, turning back to give Pansy a dazzling smile.
“If you can work out how to get up, we might be able to do this again,” she said sweetly. “And if you can’t work it out- well, we might still do it again, but I daresay you’ll be a little angrier at me than you were this time. Just hope that no one comes along before you do figure it out - or at least, no one who you don’t want to see you like this.”
Padma had a spring in her step when she exited the room, leaving Pansy on the floor in her wake.
Clearly, Pansy was right. Being a good girl wasn’t any fun at all compared to this.
-----
For the Love of Pansy (Round 1) Masterlist
Username: gamma_x_orionis
Pairing: Pansy/Padma
Type: Femslash
Prompt: #21 - Padma is not innocent, and she might be reserved but she isn't shy.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,950
Warnings/content: (Relatively mild) dub-con, bullying, humiliation, magical-type bondage, tribbing, semi-public sex.
Summary: Padma doesn’t like Pansy, and after being picked on and told over and over that she needs to have more fun, she snaps. By the time she’s finished, she likes Pansy a lot more.
Notes: Thank you very much, nearlyconscious, for the amazing prompt ;) Thank you also to shy_of_reality for her work on the fest, and for my dear beta and her fabulous last-minute work. ♥
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters/references are property of JK Rowling and associates. No copyright infringement is intended.
Good Girls and Bad Girls
Padma was engrossed in conversation with her sister, and on her way to Herbology, and thinking of absolutely nothing aside from those two subjects, when Pansy Parkinson sidled up behind her and snapped her bra strap for the third time that week.
Padma froze, the hard snap of elastic against the back of her shoulder enough to make her face burn and her palms go damp. She could tell it was Pansy from the quiet, suppressed giggle-giggle-snort noise that she was making, but she didn’t want to turn around and face her.
Parvati did not have that reaction.
“Hey!” she snapped, spinning around. “What did you do that for?”
Padma closed her eyes briefly, then turned as well. She crossed her arms firmly over her ample chest, where Pansy’s eyes seemed to go every time they were in close proximity to one another.
“Just a bit of fun,” Pansy said. “Nothing much.”
Parvati leaned over towards Pansy until they were practically nose-to-nose. Her jaw jutted out aggressively and her dark eyes were narrowed into slits.
“I’ve got a good idea, Parkinson,” she said. “Why don’t you just leave my sister alone?”
“Why don’t I?” Pansy propped one finger on her cheek and tipped her head in a mock-contemplative pose. “Gosh, that’s a hard one to answer. I suppose because… I don’t care.”
“Leave it,” Padma said tiredly. She grabbed Parvati’s arm and tried to pull her back. “Come on, there’s no point-”
“Yes, listen to your sister, Parvati,” Pansy crooned back. “Don’t pick a fight. You’ll just get yourself into trouble.”
“Shut up,” Padma told her, but stilled Parvati’s hand when she reached for her wand. She glared scathingly at Pansy, who was wearing an infuriating half-smirk. “She’s not worth it.”
“Oh, that’s right. Not worth it, am I?” Pansy raised one eyebrow. “Like you’re not absolutely fuming right now. You’re just too much of a coward to do anything…”
“I’m not a coward,” Padma said. She tried to keep her voice calm, but failed miserably. Her voice shook. She clenched her hands into fists and dug her nails hard into her palms.
“Oh, aren’t you? Is that why you’re just letting me walk all over you?” Pansy taunted, and then, as if to prove her point, grabbed the end of Padma’s plait and pulled it so hard that she stumbled and would have fallen down the stairs if Parvati hadn’t grabbed her arm to hold her up.
“You keep your hands off her!” Parvati said loudly.
“Let her tell me to do that herself,” Pansy said back, equally loudly. Padma’s face had begun to burn. People were staring at them, and all with slightly mocking looks around their faces, like they all knew that Padma was just letting her sister take care of her.
“You’re a real bitch, you know,” Parvati said, her eyes narrowing into slits. She planted her hands on her hips and glared down at Pansy, shuffling slightly in front of Padma in some sort of vain attempt to protect her. Padma felt a deep and desperate wish that the stairs would open up and swallow her completely.
“I take pride in it,” Pansy said with a careless wave of her hand.
“Parvati,” Padma muttered in her sister’s ear. “Leave it. You’ll be late to class - go on, I’ll be fine, I can take care of myself.”
Parvati whipped her head around and arched her eyebrows at Padma. “Oh, really? This isn’t about being able to take care of yourself, this is about Pansy Parkinson being an absolutely worthless sack of-”
“Classy, Parvati, really, that is,” Pansy interrupted dryly. “Why not turn around and insult me to my face?”
“Please go,” Padma pleaded. The longer she stayed here with Pansy, and with Parvati trying to stick up for her, the more trouble she was going to end up in. Pansy had too many people on her side and too much nerve herself for Parvati to be able to protect Padma from her. Besides, Padma had stopped wanting her sister’s protection a long time ago.
Parvati shot Pansy one last scathing look, and Padma was deathly afraid that she was going to refuse, that she was going to stay there and continue to make things worse, but to her relief, Parvati did go. She pushed Pansy out of the way as she walked past her, but she didn’t say anything more.
The momentary relief that Padma felt when Parvati left was promptly eclipsed when she realized that Pansy was still there, and now there was no one in between them.
Pansy had a horrible little smirk on her face. She rested one hand on her hip and sneered at Padma. “Well? Don’t we have class together? Aren’t you going to walk with me?”
Padma pressed her lips into a tight line. She would certainly not skip Herbology on account of Pansy. That would be letting her win, however tempting the idea of saying “No” and walking away seemed at that moment.
She held her head high and walked past Pansy, keeping her eyes firmly forward.
“Do you know what your problem is, Patil?” Pansy asked, following her very closely, much to her dismay. “Your problem is that you take everything too seriously. Me, if someone snapped my bra strap, I’d just laugh it off and keep going, you know? It’s not like it’s that bad of a thing to do.” She paused, clearly hoping for some sort of response from Padma, and when she didn’t receive one, she went on. “But you get yourself all worked up, and then your sister gets all protective because she’s a good sister, and she tries to be all intimidating, and that - well, frankly, it’s an embarrassment to watch.”
Fuck off, Padma wanted to say. She didn’t.
“You need to lighten up,” Pansy continued. She perched on the railing of the staircase and slid down, keeping pace with Padma, and somehow managing not to unbalance herself. “Skive off a few classes. Skip a few assignments. Fuck a few boys. Or girls, if that’s what you like.”
She’s just trying to wind you up, Padma told herself, but even though she could tell herself that, and understand it on an intellectual level, she couldn’t quite prevent herself from getting wound up. She wanted to punch the stupid smirk off Pansy’s face. She wanted to push her and watch her fall off the railing until she landed with a crunch on the floor below. She wanted to grab her and shake her and slam her head against the wall, slam her against the wall.
“Just trying to help,” Pansy said. They had reached the bottom of the staircase now, and Padma sped up. Once she got to the greenhouses, Professor Sprout wouldn’t let Pansy keep talking to her, and what a relief that would be. “You’d be happier for it.”
“That,” Padma said, through gritted teeth, “is your opinion.”
“That’s a fact.” Pansy seemed pleased that she had gotten a reaction. She was so smug, so disgustingly confident that she knew better than Padma did what to do with her life…
Padma stopped dead, and Pansy ran into her. She stood still for a few moments, taking deep, steadying breaths, and then turned on Pansy. She must have been glaring at her terribly, because, for the first time, Pansy looked a little nervous.
“Right,” she said. “All right. You think I’m a prig, is that it?”
“That about sums it up, yeah.”
“And,” Padma continued, biting off each word sharply, “if I just - how did you put it? - skive off a few classes, fuck a few people… I’ll somehow magically become much more tolerant of you being an absolutely useless waste of air?”
Pansy snorted softly. “Yeah, that’s it.”
“Right.” Padma felt something inside her break, and the next thing she knew, she had her hand tightly around Pansy’s upper arm. “All right. Let’s conduct a little experiment, then, shall we?”
Pansy’s look of faint nervousness from before was back, and much more intense. “What sort of experiment did you have in mind, then?”
“Just taking your advice.” Padma steered - no, forced - Pansy back, away from the doors and the stairs. She scanned over her shoulder, and caught sight of a door, wide open and revealing a deserted room. That would do.
Pansy tried to shake her off, but Padma had her in a vice-like grip. Her fingers were digging hard into her flesh, hard enough that they would probably leave marks, maybe even bruises. Padma had never bruised someone before. She’d never even been in a fight.
She shoved Pansy into the empty room, then closed the door behind herself. Pansy’s eyes were wide and practically terrified now, and Padma chuckled quietly. Was that how she looked when she saw Pansy coming and tried to run away before she could be caught and humiliated? Probably. She wondered if Pansy felt anywhere near as vulnerable as she did.
“Come on, now, don’t be scared,” she said, leaning against the door. “We’re going to have fun.”
“Fun?” Pansy was clearly trying to sound defiant. She was failing. “What do you mean by fun?”
Padma pulled her wand out of her bag and twirled it between her fingers - a little trick that Parvati had taught her. Parvati could do it quickly and make it look very relaxed and cool. Padma could only do it slowly, but she hoped that under the circumstances, that would appear fashionably sinister. Pansy’s eyes flicked to it.
“You can’t hurt me,” she said boldly. “I’ll tell Dumbledore.”
“I’m not going to hurt you. Didn’t I say we were going to have fun?”
Before Pansy could answer, Padma had slashed her wand through the air and Pansy toppled, landing hard on her backside on the ground. She let out a cry of “Oof!” and her legs sprawled out when she fell, giving Padma a glimpse of her white knickers. Another light swipe of her wand and Pansy’s legs were wide apart, and much as she struggled to bring them together, she couldn’t quite move them.
“What the Hell-”
“Nice knickers, Parkinson,” Padma said, smirking. She leaned down so she was nose-to-nose with Pansy, who looked amusingly helpless and doll-like on the ground with her legs spread wide. “And here I thought you were the black lace and satin type. Actually,” she added, all her vitriol for Pansy bubbling beneath the surface, and every insult, every degrading comment that she had ever thought coming to her lips with perfect ease, “I thought you weren’t the type to wear knickers at all.” She waved her wand lightly, and Pansy’s knickers disappeared completely. Pansy let out a strangled cry of protest.
“You’re a bloody pervert, aren’t you!”
“Just a little.” Padma slid her hand between Pansy’s thighs, and heard a hitch in Pansy’s breath. She searched briefly, and heard Pansy gasp when she pushed her thumb against her clit.
“Fuck off,” Pansy mumbled.
“Yeah, right.” Padma circled the nub with her nail. “Like you actually want me to stop. If you wanted me to stop, you’d push me away - your arms are still working.”
But Pansy didn’t push her away. She was leaning back, and using her arms to support herself. Her breasts were heaving, straining against her blouse.
“Doesn’t take much, does it?” Padma asked. She pressed Pansy’s clit again and watched her jump. “It doesn’t take much to make you wet. I mean, I thought you’d resist for at least a few minutes, given how convinced you were that I’m some sort of embodiment of naiveté. But you’re not even trying…” She slipped her index finger into Pansy and watched her shudder. “And your pussy’s just drenched. You can’t have gotten this wet in the last two minutes.” Padma worked a second finger in and twisted them both inside Pansy, grinding the heel of her hand against her clit. “You must have gotten wet before, yes? Maybe when you were playing around with my bra strap?”
Pansy’s face had gone quite red, and her hips were bucking against Padma’s hand. “You- don’t know- anything,” she said, but the words came out in a stilted groan that made Padma think that she knew quite a bit more than Pansy would admit to.
She pulled her fingers out and wiped them off on Pansy’s skirt. “Right. You didn’t get turned on when you snapped my bra, then? Making me wince? Making my tits bounce?” She put her hands beneath her breasts and pushed them up and together, against her blouse. “Watch,” she added, then leaned over Pansy, propping herself up with one hand and reaching behind herself with the other so she could flick open the clasp of her bra. Her breasts spilled free, and she shimmied the undergarment off, pulling it through the sleeve of her shirt and throwing it aside. Pansy’s eyes were fixed firmly on her nipples, dark beneath the thin white fabric.
“That’s what you wanted to see, wasn’t it?” she breathed, and straddled Pansy’s waist, pushing her flat to the ground and letting her breasts hang just above her face. “I’ve seen you looking at them. What, do you wish you had tits like mine?”
When Pansy didn’t answer, though her breathing continued to come faster and faster, and her eyes seemed glued to Padma’s cleavage, Padma pulled her shirt up. “There. Do you see them? Do they make you hot?”
“Yeah,” Pansy mumbled, her face crimson. “Yeah, all right. Yeah, you’ve got nice tits. Will you let me up now?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Padma leaned forward, and her breasts brushed against Pansy’s face. “You like them so much, why don’t you touch them?”
She’d hardly gotten the words out before Pansy’s hands were up, squeezing and kneading them. Padma rubbed her thigh against Pansy’s pussy, enjoying the way her hips rolled up against her leg and the feeling of slickness on her skin. Pansy was groaning, pulling Padma’s stiff nipples, squirming underneath her, her face slick with sweat.
“Still think I’m a prig?” Padma asked. She sat up and pushed Pansy’s hands off her. “Still think I don’t know how to have fun?”
Pansy’s mouth twisted, and she didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to - Padma already knew the truth.
She stood up, eliciting a sharp whine of protest from Pansy, who clearly took this as an indication that she was leaving.
“Oh, don’t.” She rolled her eyes a little, but couldn’t stop herself from smiling, and then shimmied out of her knickers and kicked them aside. “I’m not letting you have all the fun. Oh - undo your blouse,” she added, and Pansy hastened to obey. Only when Pansy’s small, firm breasts were as exposed as Padma’s full ones did she return to the floor.
She slid up close to Pansy, facing her, then draped her left leg over Pansy’s right and slipped her right underneath Pansy’s left and pushed herself forward until their pussies were pressed together. Pansy whimpered and Padma smiled and braced her hands on the floor, then thrust her hips up, grinding against her.
“Oh fuck” Pansy whispered. Her face was red and her thighs clenched against Padma every time she rubbed against her. Padma’s whole body was coming out in a sweat. Perspiration trickled between her breasts and her upper thighs, where it mixed with her wetness, and with Pansy’s.
The muscles in Pansy’s thighs tensed and strained, pulling against invisible bonds, and Padma groaned as she felt hot liquid gush against her. She shoved her hand down between her thighs, rubbing her clit hard while Pansy groaned and twisted against her, whimpering “Ah, God, Padma, oh fuck,” and only when Padma had come, only when she rode out her orgasm with Pansy’s pussy between her thighs, only when she was quite finished and more satisfied than she had been in a long, long time, did she sit up and look at her partner.
Pansy was a mess. Her short, dark hair was dishevelled, her makeup was streaked, she was sprawled flat on her back, heaving, with her breasts exposed and her skirt up. Her clothes were rumpled.
Padma didn’t think she had ever looked prettier.
She, Padma, hummed while she picked up her wand, straightened her own clothes, slipped her knickers back on. Pansy lay still for a time, then looked up at her, face shining and eyes glowing.
“Aren’t you going to let me up?”
“Mm.” Padma slipped her bag over her shoulder and looked down at Pansy, pretending to consider. “No, actually, I don’t think I will.”
“What?”
“Well, you know, you weren’t very nice to me before,” Padma said, all innocence, as if she hadn’t just fucked the girl onto the floor into oblivion. “I’m not really nice enough to let you treat me like that, and then just give you what you want.”
“But- but-”
Padma kicked Pansy’s bag just out of her reach, then headed for the door, turning back to give Pansy a dazzling smile.
“If you can work out how to get up, we might be able to do this again,” she said sweetly. “And if you can’t work it out- well, we might still do it again, but I daresay you’ll be a little angrier at me than you were this time. Just hope that no one comes along before you do figure it out - or at least, no one who you don’t want to see you like this.”
Padma had a spring in her step when she exited the room, leaving Pansy on the floor in her wake.
Clearly, Pansy was right. Being a good girl wasn’t any fun at all compared to this.
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For the Love of Pansy (Round 1) Masterlist