Title: After Hours
Author: Gabriel Anubis
Pairing: Macnair/Lucius
Summary: A very special lovers’ tryst…
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: M/M slash, mild BDSM, boot worship, cross-dressing, humiliation
Possible Spoilers: Books 1-5
Word Count: 1,038
Disclaimer: All characters and profits belong to J.K Rowling. The kinky smut is my own doing.
Lucius Malfoy Apparated at the Macnair mansion, feeling more than a little tense. As he was still clad in the exquisitely cut yet darkly conservative robes appropriate to his position at the Ministry of Magic, his cane topped with a silver snake’s head still clutched in his hand, the responsibility and authority that they symbolised weighed heavily upon him.
It was not until a tremulous house elf led him through the grand yet gloomy passageways to Walden Macnair’s private set of rooms, and he was able to undress and soak in a luxurious bath filled with rose-scented foam, that Lucius could begin to relax and let the burdens of daily life begin to drift away from him. The water’s fragrance was a little too feminine for Lucius’ habitual taste, but the delicate floral aroma was already beginning to make Lucius extremely aroused. It signified the role he was soon to play for his beloved Walden, the only role in which Lucius could let go of all thoughts of work and wife and child, giving himself over completely to pleasure and love. Walden Macnair, as the Ministry’s executioner of dangerous creatures, could exorcise many of his frustrations during the job itself, swinging an axe through yielding flesh and bone to assuage his deadly rage. But taking a blade to the Minister for Magic was not an option; Lucius had to resort to more arcane and discreet measures in order to unwind, open himself utterly and be the lover that Walden most desired.
Gracefully lifting himself from the tub and drying his lean, lithely muscled body with a thick, luxuriant towel, Lucius then made his way to Walden’s own bedchamber where he found his costume for the evening laid out for him to wear. Lucius knew that Walden would not see him until he was properly attired, so he dressed as swiftly and meticulously as he could in the items of female clothing that lay before him. Ebony silk stockings held up by elaborate, lacy elastic tops, which he rolled carefully up his perfectly smooth legs. A filmy, lace-edged black negligee decorated with ribbons, ruffles and frills, which Lucius left hanging open to sensuously display his exquisite nakedness; his body was entirely hairless below the neck save for a patch of silver-blond curls between his taut thighs. Silver high-heeled shoes next, charmed to make the wearer walk with sinuous, erotic grace. The final touches were a cock ring to keep his proud erection displayed and restrained, and a black velvet band for his throat, ornamented with a small silver axe to denote Lucius as Walden Macnair’s property.
Lucius finished his dressing ritual by brushing his flowing light blond hair until it shimmered, and then slowly exited the chamber, pausing to accept a tray, a most ornate piece of brightly polished silverware bearing a crystal decanter of single malt whisky and a glass, from the same house elf who had admitted him earlier. Apparently, Lucius was to serve the beverage to Walden in the parlour. Giving the elf a contemptuous glare - there was no way in Hades that Lucius would assume comradeship with such a creature, even in these circumstances - Lucius proceeded down the hallway to the parlour door. It was open, and Lucius heard Walden’s deep, booming voice bid him enter before he could even raise his hand to knock.
Many glowing candles lit the grand, foreboding room; as Lucius approached the high-backed, thronelike chair where Walden sat, he could see that his beloved’s broad, muscular chest was bare and slicked by the faintest film of summer sweat. Walden wore only a pair of leather trousers, midnight black and tanned buttery-soft, perfectly contoured to fit his brawny, masculine shape, and intimidating black leather boots with gleaming buckles. Lucius stood before the man he loved, and could not repress a tiny shudder of lascivious dread at Walden’s commanding presence.
“On your knees, my beauty,” Macnair rumbled, and Lucius elegantly obeyed him, laying the tray on a small table at Macnair’s side as he did so. Ignoring the whisky, Walden instead seized a fistful of the Malfoy’s soft, sleek hair, keeping the blond at his mercy while the executioner feasted his eyes on the perfect, sensual loveliness of his captive.
“Don’t look at me, slut!” Macnair snarled as the Malfoy’s provocative, lustful gaze began to unnerve him, sending a jolt of exquisite pain to his already swollen, aching prick. “Get your eyes down where they belong, my pretty little whore, down on my boots. Put your sweet little tongue on them, make them nice and shiny for me…”
Uttering a tiny moan, Lucius felt himself flush with humiliation and longing as he bent further down to comply with his lover’s demand. His bright hair tumbled all around him as he pressed his lips to the sleek leather of first one boot, then the other, kissing them fervently and worshipfully before thoroughly and seductively tonguing each boot in turn. He savoured the tang of the smooth, clean hide and the rising, musky scent of the other man’s desire; Lucius smiled to himself as he heard Macnair groan aloud with unbridled lust at the sight before him, the beautiful, proud Malfoy grovelling at his feet like a mere slave. Licking his boots avidly and letting that glorious hair spill across the plush carpet.
Lucius could hear Walden’s breath coming in short, harsh gasps as the dominant man tried to stay in control, hold back his growing need to take the blond then and there. Almost purring, Lucius redoubled his efforts upon Walden’s boots, knowing full well that soon Walden would not be able to restrain himself any longer, would grab handfuls of his hair and roughly pull the Malfoy upwards, then unzip his leather pants so Lucius could fill his hot, sweet mouth with the massive length of Walden’s hard cock.
And Lucius knew that whether Macnair would decide to fuck Lucius’ throat until he came, or would turn Lucius so he could thrust his huge prick into the tightness of the Malfoy’s arse, Lucius would spend the night with Walden in his luxurious bed, held close in the strength of his lover’s arms. Rewarded for services rendered, treasured and safe and forever loved.