Red, Blue, Green, Yellow: Spanking In Four Part(ie)s
David Cameron is my new Prime Minister. I am not pleased.
I am taking my displeasure out on Draco.
Title: Red, Blue, Green, Yellow: Spanking In Four Part(ie)s
Word count: ~2000
Characters/pairings:Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Politics make Harry want to smack someone. Luckily, he has Draco there to be smacked.
Warnings: spanking, D/s
Disclaimer: The boys belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Author’s Notes: Inspired by the British political situation, but you don't have to know anything about it to enjoy the fic! Has a Labour-voting Harry Potter (though neither character represents the author's views.) Also, yes, obviously I do not advocate an I Am Annoyed At The World So I’m Going To Beat You approach to dominance.
Draco found Harry slumped on their sofa, watching telly with furious attention. Draco paid it only brief attention - the screen showed serious-looking men in suits talking about things he didn’t understand. But Harry still cared a lot about the Muggles, he was on their electoral roll and everything. He’d spent a lot of time in recent weeks sitting with Hermione and ranting - sometimes at her, sometimes with her - while he, Weasley and Pansy drank each other under the table.
Draco stood in the doorway for a minute, watching Harry’s face as he listened to the Muggles talk. His green eyes were rapt and glowing with attention. For a moment Draco experienced a spike of pure jealousy: Harry didn’t pay attention to most people. He saved their lives, then smiled with vague good feelings and forgot their names. Draco cherished the way he could always grab Harry’s attention, could draw that intense focus and have it all for himself. He welcomed competition for it like he welcomed the words “progressive tax policy”.
Apparently all that ranting had penetrated further than he’d thought - but then Draco had always paid attention to money.
“Harry?”
“Draco,” Harry said without looking away from the television. “Come here.” He held his right hand out for him, clicked his fingers.
For a moment Draco considered getting offended, walking away in a huff or demanding Harry look at him while he talked to him. But Harry was really very attractive when he was giving orders.
He crossed the room, stood by Harry. “Yes?”
Harry leant back against the sofa, and smiled up at Draco. Tension strung his words tight. “I am not a happy bunny right now, Draco. I voted Labour, and now I have a Conservative Prime Minister who is eighty percent forehead and nineteen percent privilege. Not to mention all this Lib Dem bollocks.”
Draco blinked at him, and wondered nervously if he was meant to have understood any of that. Perhaps Harry thought I was listening when he was ranting? “Oh. Er.” He groped for something to say: Malfoys were usually good at governments. “Would you like me to bribe him?”
Harry threw back his head and laughed; the deep, rolling sound filled Draco’s stomach and made him grin back. “No thank you, sweetheart, but I appreciate the offer. No, I want you to do something else.”
“Oh?”
“I want you to take off your trousers and boxers, not to mention those very expensive socks which I saw the receipt for, and bend over my lap for a spanking.”
“Why?” Draco flinched back. “I haven’t done anything.”
“No…” Harry sounded thoughtful. “Not that I know of, anyway; I’m sure you’ve done something worthy of a spanking since the last time I had you over my knee.”
Draco said nothing, because lies meant ten extra strikes and a disappointed expression from Harry.
“Though it’s only been a fortnight… you’re probably still bruised from the last time. I really went at you then, eh? Anyway. The point is not that you’ve done anything wrong, Draco. It’s that Cameron makes me want to hit something, and lucky me - I have you to hit.”
Draco felt himself blush. That cool assumption that he had a nice little sub who’d do as he said… He wanted to tell Harry off, say it wasn’t like that and he couldn’t just assume. Only it was also sort of excruciatingly hot to be treated as if he was there for such purposes.
He reached for his belt. Harry’s eyes were fixed on him now, even though the men in suits were still talking in the background. It was lovely, and Draco’s breaths were shortening with the anticipation. Despite that, his blush deepened as he toed off his socks, as his trousers dropped around his feet. As he pulled his boxers down to reveal his hard cock.
Harry eyed him, a smile curling the corners of his full lips, his eyes dark. “Very nice… I’m tempted to make a ‘hung Parliament’ joke but you wouldn’t get it.”
Draco scowled, feeling laughed at, and bent himself over Harry’s lap. Harry breathed in sharply as Draco settled his body over Harry’s thighs. Draco smirked into the upholstery, then gasped himself as Harry lifted his shirttails, and rested a warm hand against his upturned arse.
“Good boy, Draco.” He was stroking Draco’s arse. Draco shuddered with it, and Harry kept talking but Draco couldn’t think of anything else. Bastard. He always did this, stroked and teased until Draco was so sensitised that the lightest slap could -
“Ow!” That had not been a light slap.
“Paying attention now, are we?” Harry’s voice softened, though, as he stroked his fingertips across Draco’s burning rump. “You’re bruised already - yellow and green. Red’s prettier.”
Draco said nothing. Certainly not that he would’ve missed the slight twinge when he sat down, and was rather pleased that it was going to be renewed.
Then Harry started spanking him in earnest. There was no more conversation: Draco was pretty sure Harry was watching telly again. There was just the regular smacking, hard and firm and unrelenting, like it was never going to stop. Draco clutched a little at Harry’s thigh and tried not to groan. His arse was heating up, he could feel it, pain buzzing through him. All his old aches were renewed, and new pain overlaid it.
It was delicious.
And then it was a different programme but that was better, because Harry seemed to get angrier. The spanking got harder until Draco was whimpering into the sofa cushion. It was just Harry’s hand, but he was strong and not afraid to use it.
“Bloody - Cameron - ” Harry said through his teeth. He was really whalloping him now, and Draco cried out. His hands moved reflexively to cover his arse and protect himself; Harry took hold of his wrists and held them down in the small of his back without a word. Draco wriggled, and couldn’t escape.
He shuddered a little, his cock leaking pre-come against Harry’s trouser-clad thigh.
“Stupid - wanker - Eton boys running the country, how bloody progressive - ” Draco groaned at the smack he got then. It seemed to vibrate through his flesh. “Accio paddle!”
Oh, that was satisfying. Harry’s bare hand on his arse was delicious, but the thump of the wood -
“Big Society indeed - and Theresa May? - Really? - I’m just glad I wasn’t at school for bloody - section - twenty-eight!” Draco went taut in pain.
There was a sound of wood on wood: Harry had reached over and dropped the paddle onto the coffee table. The telly went dead.
“There we go,” Harry said softly, running his finger softly along one cheek. “What pretty colours. Red, yellow, green.” He snorted softly. “A lot of red. I think I’ve beaten you black and blue.”
Draco made a soft sound of disagreement. He could’ve taken a lot more; he had taken a lot more. Only now Harry was groping his arse, squeezing it and ow ow ow --
He kicked his legs. “Harry - it hurts - ”
“Oh?” Harry sounded supremely unconcerned.
“Let go, please - ” He couldn’t squeal, it’d be too embarrassing.
“All right.” Harry let go, and promptly dealt him a hefty smack. Draco moaned.
“Come along, then, sit up.” Draco did so. He was a little dazed, but that was nice: it meant Harry fussed with him, half-manhandled him despite his attempts to be gentle, made sure he had Draco sitting on his lap and cuddled him. Draco smiled and cuddled against him, wriggling a little. Harry’s trousers were rough wool, and they made the pain in his arse flare.
“I feel so much better.” Harry smiled at him, slipping a hand through his sweaty hair. Draco opened his mouth a little in mute demand, then smiled into the kiss.
“Nice for you,” he said when it ended. “What do I get to reward me for being so good?”
“What makes you think you get anything?”
Draco gaped in soundless indignation (and not arousal in any way at all). “Harry!” he wailed.
Harry grinned at him, and started undoing Draco’s shirt. Draco kept very still as his chest was exposed. Harry slid a hand inside it and pinched his nipple. Draco squeaked.
“That was a fantastic noise,” Harry grinned, then reached for his wand and stripped himself.
Suddenly Draco was perched on the lap of a naked Harry, bare skin and black hair and hard cock all exposed for him. He straddled Harry, unable to do anything else, and they kissed. They kissed for long minutes, hot and wonderful, until Harry’s hands were squeezing Draco’s arse rhythmically and Draco was whimpering into his mouth.
Harry finally pulled back a little to mutter, “Come on, ride me.” He summoned the lube.
“Yeah…” Draco seized the chance for some power: he slicked up Harry’s cock, watching Harry’s face as his eyes shut, his mouth tightening as he fought for control. Harry’s cock was thick and hot in his hand, and Draco felt almost feverish with the knowledge that it was about to be inside him.
“Stop it, I’m going to come! Get that bloody shirt off.”
Draco obeyed, then sat up on his knees with a squeak: Harry’s slick fingers were between his cheeks. Harry leaned forward to suck his nipple just as the fingers eased inside him, and - “oh Merlin - ”
Harry’s teeth sunk into his flesh. Draco moaned, sensation overwhelming him. “Fuck, this isn’t fair - ” Harry was stretching him and sucking him and -
And now the fingers were gone, and Harry was easing him forward and down.
Draco groaned loudly as Harry’s cock stretched him, pushed inside him, always an invasion and always so good. Harry slowed for a moment, his green eyes intent on Draco’s face. Draco forced his face into a smile, clutching at Harry’s wild hair. Then Harry seemed to lose that moment of control: he was fucking him, his hips jerking up hard against him, sparking pain every time. Draco rode him, regular and easy at first but quickly losing the rhythm. They heaved and shifted and forced themselves against each other, and Harry’s hand found Draco’s cock and was using all his knowledge, everything he’d learnt in the months they’d loved each other. It wasn’t long before Draco came apart, and he drew Harry with him.
Draco grinned wickedly against Harry’s chest and murmured, “God bless the Tories.”
I am taking my displeasure out on Draco.
Title: Red, Blue, Green, Yellow: Spanking In Four Part(ie)s
Word count: ~2000
Characters/pairings:Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Politics make Harry want to smack someone. Luckily, he has Draco there to be smacked.
Warnings: spanking, D/s
Disclaimer: The boys belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Author’s Notes: Inspired by the British political situation, but you don't have to know anything about it to enjoy the fic! Has a Labour-voting Harry Potter (though neither character represents the author's views.) Also, yes, obviously I do not advocate an I Am Annoyed At The World So I’m Going To Beat You approach to dominance.
Draco found Harry slumped on their sofa, watching telly with furious attention. Draco paid it only brief attention - the screen showed serious-looking men in suits talking about things he didn’t understand. But Harry still cared a lot about the Muggles, he was on their electoral roll and everything. He’d spent a lot of time in recent weeks sitting with Hermione and ranting - sometimes at her, sometimes with her - while he, Weasley and Pansy drank each other under the table.
Draco stood in the doorway for a minute, watching Harry’s face as he listened to the Muggles talk. His green eyes were rapt and glowing with attention. For a moment Draco experienced a spike of pure jealousy: Harry didn’t pay attention to most people. He saved their lives, then smiled with vague good feelings and forgot their names. Draco cherished the way he could always grab Harry’s attention, could draw that intense focus and have it all for himself. He welcomed competition for it like he welcomed the words “progressive tax policy”.
Apparently all that ranting had penetrated further than he’d thought - but then Draco had always paid attention to money.
“Harry?”
“Draco,” Harry said without looking away from the television. “Come here.” He held his right hand out for him, clicked his fingers.
For a moment Draco considered getting offended, walking away in a huff or demanding Harry look at him while he talked to him. But Harry was really very attractive when he was giving orders.
He crossed the room, stood by Harry. “Yes?”
Harry leant back against the sofa, and smiled up at Draco. Tension strung his words tight. “I am not a happy bunny right now, Draco. I voted Labour, and now I have a Conservative Prime Minister who is eighty percent forehead and nineteen percent privilege. Not to mention all this Lib Dem bollocks.”
Draco blinked at him, and wondered nervously if he was meant to have understood any of that. Perhaps Harry thought I was listening when he was ranting? “Oh. Er.” He groped for something to say: Malfoys were usually good at governments. “Would you like me to bribe him?”
Harry threw back his head and laughed; the deep, rolling sound filled Draco’s stomach and made him grin back. “No thank you, sweetheart, but I appreciate the offer. No, I want you to do something else.”
“Oh?”
“I want you to take off your trousers and boxers, not to mention those very expensive socks which I saw the receipt for, and bend over my lap for a spanking.”
“Why?” Draco flinched back. “I haven’t done anything.”
“No…” Harry sounded thoughtful. “Not that I know of, anyway; I’m sure you’ve done something worthy of a spanking since the last time I had you over my knee.”
Draco said nothing, because lies meant ten extra strikes and a disappointed expression from Harry.
“Though it’s only been a fortnight… you’re probably still bruised from the last time. I really went at you then, eh? Anyway. The point is not that you’ve done anything wrong, Draco. It’s that Cameron makes me want to hit something, and lucky me - I have you to hit.”
Draco felt himself blush. That cool assumption that he had a nice little sub who’d do as he said… He wanted to tell Harry off, say it wasn’t like that and he couldn’t just assume. Only it was also sort of excruciatingly hot to be treated as if he was there for such purposes.
He reached for his belt. Harry’s eyes were fixed on him now, even though the men in suits were still talking in the background. It was lovely, and Draco’s breaths were shortening with the anticipation. Despite that, his blush deepened as he toed off his socks, as his trousers dropped around his feet. As he pulled his boxers down to reveal his hard cock.
Harry eyed him, a smile curling the corners of his full lips, his eyes dark. “Very nice… I’m tempted to make a ‘hung Parliament’ joke but you wouldn’t get it.”
Draco scowled, feeling laughed at, and bent himself over Harry’s lap. Harry breathed in sharply as Draco settled his body over Harry’s thighs. Draco smirked into the upholstery, then gasped himself as Harry lifted his shirttails, and rested a warm hand against his upturned arse.
“Good boy, Draco.” He was stroking Draco’s arse. Draco shuddered with it, and Harry kept talking but Draco couldn’t think of anything else. Bastard. He always did this, stroked and teased until Draco was so sensitised that the lightest slap could -
“Ow!” That had not been a light slap.
“Paying attention now, are we?” Harry’s voice softened, though, as he stroked his fingertips across Draco’s burning rump. “You’re bruised already - yellow and green. Red’s prettier.”
Draco said nothing. Certainly not that he would’ve missed the slight twinge when he sat down, and was rather pleased that it was going to be renewed.
Then Harry started spanking him in earnest. There was no more conversation: Draco was pretty sure Harry was watching telly again. There was just the regular smacking, hard and firm and unrelenting, like it was never going to stop. Draco clutched a little at Harry’s thigh and tried not to groan. His arse was heating up, he could feel it, pain buzzing through him. All his old aches were renewed, and new pain overlaid it.
It was delicious.
And then it was a different programme but that was better, because Harry seemed to get angrier. The spanking got harder until Draco was whimpering into the sofa cushion. It was just Harry’s hand, but he was strong and not afraid to use it.
“Bloody - Cameron - ” Harry said through his teeth. He was really whalloping him now, and Draco cried out. His hands moved reflexively to cover his arse and protect himself; Harry took hold of his wrists and held them down in the small of his back without a word. Draco wriggled, and couldn’t escape.
He shuddered a little, his cock leaking pre-come against Harry’s trouser-clad thigh.
“Stupid - wanker - Eton boys running the country, how bloody progressive - ” Draco groaned at the smack he got then. It seemed to vibrate through his flesh. “Accio paddle!”
Oh, that was satisfying. Harry’s bare hand on his arse was delicious, but the thump of the wood -
“Big Society indeed - and Theresa May? - Really? - I’m just glad I wasn’t at school for bloody - section - twenty-eight!” Draco went taut in pain.
There was a sound of wood on wood: Harry had reached over and dropped the paddle onto the coffee table. The telly went dead.
“There we go,” Harry said softly, running his finger softly along one cheek. “What pretty colours. Red, yellow, green.” He snorted softly. “A lot of red. I think I’ve beaten you black and blue.”
Draco made a soft sound of disagreement. He could’ve taken a lot more; he had taken a lot more. Only now Harry was groping his arse, squeezing it and ow ow ow --
He kicked his legs. “Harry - it hurts - ”
“Oh?” Harry sounded supremely unconcerned.
“Let go, please - ” He couldn’t squeal, it’d be too embarrassing.
“All right.” Harry let go, and promptly dealt him a hefty smack. Draco moaned.
“Come along, then, sit up.” Draco did so. He was a little dazed, but that was nice: it meant Harry fussed with him, half-manhandled him despite his attempts to be gentle, made sure he had Draco sitting on his lap and cuddled him. Draco smiled and cuddled against him, wriggling a little. Harry’s trousers were rough wool, and they made the pain in his arse flare.
“I feel so much better.” Harry smiled at him, slipping a hand through his sweaty hair. Draco opened his mouth a little in mute demand, then smiled into the kiss.
“Nice for you,” he said when it ended. “What do I get to reward me for being so good?”
“What makes you think you get anything?”
Draco gaped in soundless indignation (and not arousal in any way at all). “Harry!” he wailed.
Harry grinned at him, and started undoing Draco’s shirt. Draco kept very still as his chest was exposed. Harry slid a hand inside it and pinched his nipple. Draco squeaked.
“That was a fantastic noise,” Harry grinned, then reached for his wand and stripped himself.
Suddenly Draco was perched on the lap of a naked Harry, bare skin and black hair and hard cock all exposed for him. He straddled Harry, unable to do anything else, and they kissed. They kissed for long minutes, hot and wonderful, until Harry’s hands were squeezing Draco’s arse rhythmically and Draco was whimpering into his mouth.
Harry finally pulled back a little to mutter, “Come on, ride me.” He summoned the lube.
“Yeah…” Draco seized the chance for some power: he slicked up Harry’s cock, watching Harry’s face as his eyes shut, his mouth tightening as he fought for control. Harry’s cock was thick and hot in his hand, and Draco felt almost feverish with the knowledge that it was about to be inside him.
“Stop it, I’m going to come! Get that bloody shirt off.”
Draco obeyed, then sat up on his knees with a squeak: Harry’s slick fingers were between his cheeks. Harry leaned forward to suck his nipple just as the fingers eased inside him, and - “oh Merlin - ”
Harry’s teeth sunk into his flesh. Draco moaned, sensation overwhelming him. “Fuck, this isn’t fair - ” Harry was stretching him and sucking him and -
And now the fingers were gone, and Harry was easing him forward and down.
Draco groaned loudly as Harry’s cock stretched him, pushed inside him, always an invasion and always so good. Harry slowed for a moment, his green eyes intent on Draco’s face. Draco forced his face into a smile, clutching at Harry’s wild hair. Then Harry seemed to lose that moment of control: he was fucking him, his hips jerking up hard against him, sparking pain every time. Draco rode him, regular and easy at first but quickly losing the rhythm. They heaved and shifted and forced themselves against each other, and Harry’s hand found Draco’s cock and was using all his knowledge, everything he’d learnt in the months they’d loved each other. It wasn’t long before Draco came apart, and he drew Harry with him.
Draco grinned wickedly against Harry’s chest and murmured, “God bless the Tories.”