Head Of The Class
I was feeling SUPER blocked on my fest fic today and needed something low-impact to get some momentum. AND THEN I REMEMBERED BLOW JOB FRIDAY. Wrote this in like two hours so be kind :D
Title: Head of the Class
Word count: ~1200
Characters/pairings: Narcissa/Pansy
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Pansy’s learnt something about how to be a lady from Mrs Malfoy. Narcissa wants proof.
Warnings: some d/s; arguably sexual coercion/dodgy power dynamics, though that’s much more evident in the first fic.
Disclaimer: The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Author’s Notes: This was written for torino10154’s Blow Job Friday event, and it’s set a few weeks after Mrs Malfoy’s Finishing School For Young Ladies.
Also on AO3, here.
“Pansy, dear? Draco said you needed my assistance. Something about a button in an awkward place, the wrong dress -- ?”
Pansy turned, mouth dry, as Mrs Malfoy entered the room. It was one of Malfoy Manor’s countless little parlours, littered with elegant furniture and heavy with centuries of plotting. Mrs Malfoy moved towards her, slow and elegant and with that gorgeous, ironic smile. Pansy felt her knees turn to water.
“I -- ”
“Shush.” Mrs Malfoy flicked her wand and the door shut behind her. A shiver of anticipation left goosebumps on Pansy’s skin. Her nipples were tight under her light summer dress, and she saw Mrs Malfoy notice.
“Oh dear, that certainly is the wrong dress.” Mrs Malfoy pulled the dress down to Pansy’s waist without hesitation, and Pansy’s tits spilled out into the cool air. “We’ve spoken, have we not, about your tendency to sluttishness?” Clever fingers skated over the curve of Pansy’s breasts, making her shiver, before pinching her nipples. Pansy’s mouth fell open on a gasp.
“You never learn.”
“That’s not fair!” Pansy said, stung. “I -- I’m better -- ” The words stumbled and staggered drunkenly out of her mouth as Mrs Malfoy played with her breasts, stroking and teasing. Pansy kept her head up, as Mrs Malfoy had drummed into her, watching Mrs Malfoy’s smirk. Her blue eyes were bright as she pinched Pansy hard, pulling a small squeal from her.
“You’ve improved somewhat,” Mrs Malfoy agreed. “Though you’re still nowhere near up to standard. This dress is not appropriate for one of my garden parties, and the lack of brassiere...”
It took a moment for Pansy to find words to respond; Mrs Malfoy was still teasing, playing like Pansy’s breasts were an executive toy. The ache thrilled through her, echoed between her legs.
“I’m better though.”
“I suppose.” Mrs Malfoy gave an insouciant little shrug and stepped back. Pansy knew better than to follow; she stayed in place with her tits hanging out, her fingers clenching and releasing. “Since you’re so convinced of your prowess, you can show me what you’ve learnt.” She sat on one little sofa, and began to unbutton her light robes. Pansy swayed forward at the sight of pale skin before flinching back into place. “I believe we’ve spoken about the importance of showing willingness to please others, and put their pleasure before your own.”
She flicked a look up at Pansy, blue and intense as an Italian sky. “Drop the dress first.”
Pansy wriggled out of it, left in cream knickers Mrs Malfoy had approved and her sandals. She dropped to her knees between Mrs Malfoy’s legs as Mrs Malfoy flicked her wand, her own knickers vanishing.
Mrs Malfoy often kept her wand in hand while Pansy was… learning.
Pansy leant in, and that first breath, the smell of arousal, sent shockwaves through her. She leant in, spreading Mrs Malfoy’s lips, and stroked her with her tongue. Long, luxurious laps, while she listened to Mrs Malfoy’s breathing. It was faster, but no moans yet. No gorgeous little cries.
She kept going, catlike licks in a steady rhythm. Mrs Malfoy got wetter, slick and swollen against Pansy’s mouth. Her heart was pounding; her whole body hot, as she sucked at one lip. A long lick upwards, and Pansy flickered her tongue against Mrs Malfoy’s clit.
That was it. Mrs Malfoy cried out, throbbing against Pansy’s tongue. From there the sounds broke over Pansy like the tide as she worked, dragging her under. She was lost in the taste, in Mrs Malfoy crying out, in the feel of her shuddering as Pansy moved.
Mrs Malfoy leant forward with both hands, scratching long nails up Pansy’s back as she cried out. Pansy cried out with her, and at the sound of Pansy’s pained cry, Mrs Malfoy’s hips jerked.
Pansy kept going, pressing herself forward. The twinge as her sore nipples pressed against the sofa only made things better. Mrs Malfoy stroked Pansy’s hair, approving, as Pansy worked, breathless against Mrs Malfoy’s heat.
Pansy flickered her tongue back up to Mrs Malfoy’s clit, and found herself trapped: Mrs Malfoy pulled her hair, holding her in place. Her groan of pain as Mrs Malfoy tugged at her hair seemed to cause agreeable vibrations; Mrs Malfoy’s hips thrust again, demanding. Pansy licked and sucked, her scalp throbbing almost as much as her cunt. Mrs Malfoy was so wet, so red, surely --
She came against Pansy’s face, cries ringing around the room. When she let Pansy go, Pansy fell back on her heels, panting, and wiped her face. She was glowing with accomplishment, to a perhaps unseemly degree.
“Come here,” Mrs Malfoy told her. Pansy obeyed her gesture, straddling one thigh. Mrs Malfoy had particular likes and dislikes for the afterglow. One of her dislikes was having to make any particular effort to bite and suck at Pansy’s tits.
Breasts. “Tits” was unladylike.
She sucked in a breath as she lowered herself onto Mrs Malfoy’s thigh; even with most of her weight on the sofa, it was --
Mrs Malfoy bit one nipple viciously, and Pansy wailed. Her hands clenched into helpless fists as she tried not to grab at Mrs Malfoy -- she’d been trained out of that, most severely, but her other nipple was being squeezed and played with and her cunt was throbbing, clenching round nothing, and she couldn’t bear it.
“Please, Mrs Malfoy -- please, may I -- ”
Mrs Malfoy drew back. She was flushed, eyes a little glazed, but just as sharp as ever. “I’m not certain you deserve it.” Pansy stared at her in speechless dismay, and she smirked. For a moment she looked just like Draco. “But let no one say I am an ungracious hostess.”
She pushed, and Pansy fell gracelessly onto her back on the sofa. Mrs Malfoy leant over her, pushing her knickers aside, and pushed two fingers inside her slick cunt. Pansy near-screamed at the first touch to her clit, flinging her head back, undone. Mrs Malfoy was relentless, sending pleasure shocking through her like lightning. Her orgasm hit her whole body, shaking her inside out, and still her mentor did not relent; it wasn’t until Pansy was squealing, Mrs Malfoy’s fingers sending pleasure-pain shocks through her hypersensitive cunt, that the touch withdrew and she was allowed to relax.
Pansy’s mind faded out; when she came back to herself, Mrs Malfoy was dressed and coiffed and looking down at her. Pansy was suddenly, sharply aware that she was almost naked, legs open in most unladylike fashion, and doubtless leaving a damp patch on the sofa.
She sat up and looked for her wand. Her make-up must be in a state.
“Hold still,” Mrs Malfoy commanded. “We will work on this suite of spells together, but for now -- ” She ran fluidly through a series of spells, and by the end of it Pansy was significantly better turned-out than she’d been when she’d arrived. Mrs Malfoy also lowered the hemline of her dress and added sleeves.
“Really one should have a tailor do this sort of thing, but in a pinch…” She looked Pansy over critically, and adjusted the neckline with a single, casually proprietary touch. “Now. Remind Draco not to make a fool of himself, please. I’ll see you for our next lesson tomorrow.”
Pansy smiled back, and left on slightly wobbly legs. That response to her dress had been better than she could’ve dreamed.
This was originally posted at http://lokifan.dreamwidth.org/327949.html. Comment wherever you like :)
Title: Head of the Class
Word count: ~1200
Characters/pairings: Narcissa/Pansy
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Pansy’s learnt something about how to be a lady from Mrs Malfoy. Narcissa wants proof.
Warnings: some d/s; arguably sexual coercion/dodgy power dynamics, though that’s much more evident in the first fic.
Disclaimer: The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Author’s Notes: This was written for torino10154’s Blow Job Friday event, and it’s set a few weeks after Mrs Malfoy’s Finishing School For Young Ladies.
Also on AO3, here.
“Pansy, dear? Draco said you needed my assistance. Something about a button in an awkward place, the wrong dress -- ?”
Pansy turned, mouth dry, as Mrs Malfoy entered the room. It was one of Malfoy Manor’s countless little parlours, littered with elegant furniture and heavy with centuries of plotting. Mrs Malfoy moved towards her, slow and elegant and with that gorgeous, ironic smile. Pansy felt her knees turn to water.
“I -- ”
“Shush.” Mrs Malfoy flicked her wand and the door shut behind her. A shiver of anticipation left goosebumps on Pansy’s skin. Her nipples were tight under her light summer dress, and she saw Mrs Malfoy notice.
“Oh dear, that certainly is the wrong dress.” Mrs Malfoy pulled the dress down to Pansy’s waist without hesitation, and Pansy’s tits spilled out into the cool air. “We’ve spoken, have we not, about your tendency to sluttishness?” Clever fingers skated over the curve of Pansy’s breasts, making her shiver, before pinching her nipples. Pansy’s mouth fell open on a gasp.
“You never learn.”
“That’s not fair!” Pansy said, stung. “I -- I’m better -- ” The words stumbled and staggered drunkenly out of her mouth as Mrs Malfoy played with her breasts, stroking and teasing. Pansy kept her head up, as Mrs Malfoy had drummed into her, watching Mrs Malfoy’s smirk. Her blue eyes were bright as she pinched Pansy hard, pulling a small squeal from her.
“You’ve improved somewhat,” Mrs Malfoy agreed. “Though you’re still nowhere near up to standard. This dress is not appropriate for one of my garden parties, and the lack of brassiere...”
It took a moment for Pansy to find words to respond; Mrs Malfoy was still teasing, playing like Pansy’s breasts were an executive toy. The ache thrilled through her, echoed between her legs.
“I’m better though.”
“I suppose.” Mrs Malfoy gave an insouciant little shrug and stepped back. Pansy knew better than to follow; she stayed in place with her tits hanging out, her fingers clenching and releasing. “Since you’re so convinced of your prowess, you can show me what you’ve learnt.” She sat on one little sofa, and began to unbutton her light robes. Pansy swayed forward at the sight of pale skin before flinching back into place. “I believe we’ve spoken about the importance of showing willingness to please others, and put their pleasure before your own.”
She flicked a look up at Pansy, blue and intense as an Italian sky. “Drop the dress first.”
Pansy wriggled out of it, left in cream knickers Mrs Malfoy had approved and her sandals. She dropped to her knees between Mrs Malfoy’s legs as Mrs Malfoy flicked her wand, her own knickers vanishing.
Mrs Malfoy often kept her wand in hand while Pansy was… learning.
Pansy leant in, and that first breath, the smell of arousal, sent shockwaves through her. She leant in, spreading Mrs Malfoy’s lips, and stroked her with her tongue. Long, luxurious laps, while she listened to Mrs Malfoy’s breathing. It was faster, but no moans yet. No gorgeous little cries.
She kept going, catlike licks in a steady rhythm. Mrs Malfoy got wetter, slick and swollen against Pansy’s mouth. Her heart was pounding; her whole body hot, as she sucked at one lip. A long lick upwards, and Pansy flickered her tongue against Mrs Malfoy’s clit.
That was it. Mrs Malfoy cried out, throbbing against Pansy’s tongue. From there the sounds broke over Pansy like the tide as she worked, dragging her under. She was lost in the taste, in Mrs Malfoy crying out, in the feel of her shuddering as Pansy moved.
Mrs Malfoy leant forward with both hands, scratching long nails up Pansy’s back as she cried out. Pansy cried out with her, and at the sound of Pansy’s pained cry, Mrs Malfoy’s hips jerked.
Pansy kept going, pressing herself forward. The twinge as her sore nipples pressed against the sofa only made things better. Mrs Malfoy stroked Pansy’s hair, approving, as Pansy worked, breathless against Mrs Malfoy’s heat.
Pansy flickered her tongue back up to Mrs Malfoy’s clit, and found herself trapped: Mrs Malfoy pulled her hair, holding her in place. Her groan of pain as Mrs Malfoy tugged at her hair seemed to cause agreeable vibrations; Mrs Malfoy’s hips thrust again, demanding. Pansy licked and sucked, her scalp throbbing almost as much as her cunt. Mrs Malfoy was so wet, so red, surely --
She came against Pansy’s face, cries ringing around the room. When she let Pansy go, Pansy fell back on her heels, panting, and wiped her face. She was glowing with accomplishment, to a perhaps unseemly degree.
“Come here,” Mrs Malfoy told her. Pansy obeyed her gesture, straddling one thigh. Mrs Malfoy had particular likes and dislikes for the afterglow. One of her dislikes was having to make any particular effort to bite and suck at Pansy’s tits.
Breasts. “Tits” was unladylike.
She sucked in a breath as she lowered herself onto Mrs Malfoy’s thigh; even with most of her weight on the sofa, it was --
Mrs Malfoy bit one nipple viciously, and Pansy wailed. Her hands clenched into helpless fists as she tried not to grab at Mrs Malfoy -- she’d been trained out of that, most severely, but her other nipple was being squeezed and played with and her cunt was throbbing, clenching round nothing, and she couldn’t bear it.
“Please, Mrs Malfoy -- please, may I -- ”
Mrs Malfoy drew back. She was flushed, eyes a little glazed, but just as sharp as ever. “I’m not certain you deserve it.” Pansy stared at her in speechless dismay, and she smirked. For a moment she looked just like Draco. “But let no one say I am an ungracious hostess.”
She pushed, and Pansy fell gracelessly onto her back on the sofa. Mrs Malfoy leant over her, pushing her knickers aside, and pushed two fingers inside her slick cunt. Pansy near-screamed at the first touch to her clit, flinging her head back, undone. Mrs Malfoy was relentless, sending pleasure shocking through her like lightning. Her orgasm hit her whole body, shaking her inside out, and still her mentor did not relent; it wasn’t until Pansy was squealing, Mrs Malfoy’s fingers sending pleasure-pain shocks through her hypersensitive cunt, that the touch withdrew and she was allowed to relax.
Pansy’s mind faded out; when she came back to herself, Mrs Malfoy was dressed and coiffed and looking down at her. Pansy was suddenly, sharply aware that she was almost naked, legs open in most unladylike fashion, and doubtless leaving a damp patch on the sofa.
She sat up and looked for her wand. Her make-up must be in a state.
“Hold still,” Mrs Malfoy commanded. “We will work on this suite of spells together, but for now -- ” She ran fluidly through a series of spells, and by the end of it Pansy was significantly better turned-out than she’d been when she’d arrived. Mrs Malfoy also lowered the hemline of her dress and added sleeves.
“Really one should have a tailor do this sort of thing, but in a pinch…” She looked Pansy over critically, and adjusted the neckline with a single, casually proprietary touch. “Now. Remind Draco not to make a fool of himself, please. I’ll see you for our next lesson tomorrow.”
Pansy smiled back, and left on slightly wobbly legs. That response to her dress had been better than she could’ve dreamed.
This was originally posted at http://lokifan.dreamwidth.org/327949.html. Comment wherever you like :)