FIC: Ignoring the Sub (Snape/Draco)
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hpkinkfestTitle: Ignoring the Sub
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
blissed_bess
Prompt Number: #131 submitted bylokifan
Kink Showcased: ignoring the sub
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Snape/Draco
Summary: There's much pleasure to enjoy, when one ignores one's boy.
Warnings: d/s, masturbation, toys, cock warming, humiliation, object insertion
Word Count: 2225
Author's Notes: lokifan, I hope this works for you, and at least captures the spirit of the kink! Dom!Severus just wouldn't/couldn't ignore Draco, no matter how much I tried to make him... :(
Ignoring the Sub
Draco has been a whiney, pushy sub their last few sessions, and Severus has had enough.
'Yes! There! Right there, Sir! More! Harder! Permission to come, Sir, now, Sir, now, now, oh fuck, now!'
'Use the clamps, Sir, my nipples beg to ache for you.'
'The whip, Sir, no, no, the cane, please, Sir!'
'Whatever pleases you, Sir, but please not the blindfold, let me see you, Sir, please.'
'I'm trying to be still, Sir, but I just (fuck! there! yes!) I just can't, Sir!'
'I'm trying to be silent, Sir, but I just (harder, Sir, more!) I just can't, Sir!'
'I'm trying to hold on, Sir, but I just (gonna, Sir, fuck, gonna!) I just can't, Sir!
Severus has been indulgent - too long indulgent - but he has seen the way the boy has been beaten down by life of late. The taunts and humiliations of his peers, the cold and callously unreachable expectations of his parents, and the hot and lingering gaze of the Dark Lord. There are times when the boy can weather it all, protected by his own arrogance and haughtiness. But lately, the world has been too harsh, the hurts too many, and the pain too real.
And so, in their private times, Severus has comforted and supported, and in their bedroom, he has coddled and indulged.
But, enough is enough.
It is time to remind Draco of the joy his boy once found as his Sir's submissive.
When Draco arrives, allowing the door to slam shut behind him, throwing himself dramatically onto the sofa, arms crossed, legs crossed, face flushed and foot tapping, Severus is ready.
'Do not get comfortable, boy,' he says by way of welcome, 'you may prepare and serve our supper.'
'We have house elves for that,' eyebrows lost under long fringe, mouth twisted in curling sneer.
'Not this night, boy,' quiet command in his voice. 'This night you will serve.'
'Oh,' Draco sits up straighter. 'Oh, I... you want to do that now?'
'You have a word to use, if you do not wish to proceed.'
'I...' and the prickly pointed peaks of Draco's arrogance slowly bleed away. 'No, no, I don't want to use my word. Just wasn't thinking, really... I... want to, Sir, I want to serve.'
'Then what,' he bites out, 'are you doing sitting, fully-clothed, in my presence? No, not one word, boy, not one word till you are naked and kneeled before me.'
He watches intently as his boy disrobes and neatly folds his clothing. Sees perfect, pale skin blossom slowly in soft shades of pink, there at his cheeks, and there at neck and chest. Sees grace and dignity of movement, wrapped in slender supple youthfulness. Sees softness of cock, and harshness of Mark; sees lightness of step and poise in kneeling. Sees his boy's strength and vulnerability, his pride and fear, his damage and beauty.
'My beautiful boy. I thank you for your submission.'
'It is a gift I willingly give, Sir. How may your boy serve this night?'
'I wish for supper, boy. I have much reading to get through - several submissions I must check tonight to ensure the Potions Monthly Journal is ready for publication on time. You will serve silently and allow me to work. You have demonstrated difficulty in restraint in this area on our last encounter, so tonight I will provide you with an aid.'
'An aid? Sir, please, no. I don't want...'
But Severus has already sighed and with a flick of his wand summons a small ball gag.
'Just the right size to remind you that I have asked for your silence,' he says, beckoning his boy to his feet and inserting the ball into his boy's obediently opened mouth, lifting soft silken hair so as not to get it caught in the fastenings.
Also, of course, he is quite partial to the simple, delightful aesthetics of his boy ball-gagged - lips stretched, gleam of drool, bob of throat, pink of humiliation.
'Good boy,' he soothes, petting soft hair, kissing lightly the edge of the stretched-wide mouth, tongue licking up the small pool of moisture already there. 'You may begin your service.'
He returns to his writing desk and concentrates on reading the draft submissions for the next issue of the journal. Though he carefully keeps his scrutiny on the papers before him, he can't really tell if his boy has even noticed his inattention, so intent is his sub on his service. His boy has moved about quietly and silently, preparing the supper of aromatic tea and favoured biscuits, presenting them beautifully on the small side-table. And when all is in place just so, he has returned to his knees, in perfect presentation, head lowered, at ease in the almost meditative state of his service, quietly waiting.
When ready, Severus beckons him forward to serve the tea, noting the care his boy takes in adding just the right amount of milk to his Sir's tea, the selection of the 'best' biscuit he humbly offers to his Sir, and the loving vigilance with which he waits on his Sir, soft cloth napkin at the ready for his Sir's fingertips.
Severus eats appreciatively, and enjoys his tea to the last drop. Waits patiently while his boy tidies away the tea things and returns once again to kneel by his Sir's side.
'I must finish these papers before I retire for the night,' he says at last, 'but I have something in mind that will keep you occupied while you wait.'
He summons the items he's chosen - biting little nipple clamps for his boy's teasing taunting tits, and one large vibrator for his boy's tempting tantalising hole. He lingers over the attaching and inserting, feeding his boy's anticipation. Transfigures his boy's ball gag into a ring gag. Reaches out and smears dripping saliva over his boys's stretched wide lips, then sucks his finger, tasting the fruits of his boy's silence. His boy's face reddens in embarrassment, humiliated, as his Sir well knows, by his helpless drooling.
While he's busy checking each toy for care of placement, he's not surprised when his boy emits a whiney sound from behind the ring gag and rolls his hips, trying to call his Sir's attention to his boy's awakening cock.
'I have no interest in what you think you might need, boy. I know your needs better than you ever will. Tonight, you need to serve, and you will serve well as my pretty little cock-warmer. On your knees, my cock resting on your tongue. That is all. Nothing more. You will not move or make a sound. I will place my cock through this ring, and rest it on your tongue. And you will receive my cock as the gift it is, and all you will do is contemplate how perfect is your life that you are permitted to nurse my cock on your tongue. And I will finish my work in comfort and in silence.'
He settles them in place, his own knees open wide for his boy's ease of access. It is quite pleasant after all - his sub's mouth warm and moist, his sub's breath a rhythmic caress. After some time, while concentrating on his reading - quill scratching out notes as required - he activates the vibrator buried deep in his boy's hole and with an occasional flick of his wand he sets its speed to low then high then random settings in between.
Although a quiet moan escapes his boy every now and then, Severus pays him no mind. He has two more long articles to check before his night is over. But he does take a moment to ponder the plight of his boy. Imagines the cramps in his boy's knees, no cushioning charm for him tonight. Thinks on the dull numbness of his boy's clamped nipples throbbing to the beat of his pulse. Contemplates the ache of the boy's arousal, surrounded by the taste and feel and smell of his Sir, but unable to act upon it. Pictures the mess of his boy's face, hot and humid, red and sweaty, chin soaked in leaking saliva. Smiles at the thought of the vibrator, gently, tantalizingly, fucking deep within his boy. Wonders if his sub is there yet, there in the space Severus is working so hard to take him.
He finishes the penultimate paper, putting it aside, and reaches for the last. Loses himself in it in his desire to be finished. And yet, always there in his periphery, is his sub. He slows down the vibrator, speeds it up, varies its rhythm, leaves it in an un-patterned un-trackable non-loop. There is something about the relentless nature of the vibrator, how it performs in a state that is totally non-reactive, non-responsive to feedback from his sub - how it ignores the desires and demands of his sub. It tickles something deep within, something closely networked with his Dom-ness, his deviance and his darker desires. And he assesses it, accepts it, and tucks it away to further explore all the possibilities it presents.
For now, though, there's work to be finished, and he attends to it methodically and ruthlessly, as is his want. And every now and then, unplanned and unforced, he reaches down and smooths his hand through his sub's sweat-dampened hair, and murmurs good boy, my good boy.
When at last he puts his quill down, and stacks his completed work into their correct piles, he exhales on an audible sigh of relief. He carefully removes his cock from his sub's mouth, and tucks it away behind the cloth of his trousers. Slides back his chair.
Takes in the sight of his beautiful boy - face pink and sweaty, drenched in drool, hair askew; chest mottled with colour, gleaming with dripped saliva; cock tall and thick and hard and purple; eyes large and blown and glazed; body at ease, on his knees, hands still clasped behind his back.
'Tell me now, boy, how much you want to achieve your own pleasure, what you want, what you need, what you want me, your Sir, to do.' Severus stands, gathering his work together. 'Tell me now, loudly and clearly, how needy you are, how much you want to come, how desperate you are. Though I have heard it all so many times these past few weeks, tell me again now, this last time that I will allow.'
And he busies himself with the putting away of his work, tidies his workspace, removes himself to the kitchen for a glass of water, heads into the bathroom for his nightly ablutions, and finishes up in the bedroom drawing back the quilt readying the bed. He returns to the front room and once more takes his seat before his silent boy.
'Now you may tell me how it felt to attend to the pleasure of your Sir - to offer your service in whatever way your Sir desired. To do what your Sir asked, endure what your Sir wanted, to be all your Sir needed you to be. Tell me now what this meant to you.'
He listens intently to the soft gentle moans his boy makes round the ring gag that disallows words. He hears his boy's whimpers and sees the tears that glisten in his boy's grey eyes. There is nothing demanding in his boy's sounds, nothing harsh or desperate. They are the sounds of a boy who begs only to serve.
'That's right, boy. Feel the difference. Feel this pleasure deep in your soul. It will be my duty to remind you of it when next you go astray.' He leans forward and kisses his boy's forehead, pushing back the damp strands of hair, wiping away tears. He traces round the stretched lips, and rubs little circles in the strained muscles of his boy's jaw.
'Now, for my pleasure, you will make yourself come. It will please me to see you use both hands, touching, caressing your cock and balls. It will also please me to leave the vibrator in, but you may not touch it. Show me, boy, come for me, entirely for your Sir's pleasure.'
And it's a sight to behold - his boy working himself, gliding his fingers and palms along and around his cock; rolling, grasping, rubbing his balls; displaying himself, drawing it out; now humping into his fist, now straining to be still and endure; fast tight-gripped jacking, and slow finger-tipped teasing; guttural moans and high-pitched whimpers - all for his Sir's pleasure.
At the very peak of his boy's bliss, Severus tugs off the nipple clamps, and his boy screams round the gag, body humping helplessly, beyond all control, orgasm convulsing through him, come shooting, eyes rolling back, finally collapsing bonelessly.
He'll forego the cleaning charms tonight, Severus thinks, as he carries his messy boy to their bed, and will cleanse his boy by his own hand - soft cloth and fragranced soap and warm water. It's an indulgence, true, but, he decides, in days as dark as these, such little shared pleasures, that mean so much more, should not be ignored.
fin
Author:
blissed_bessPrompt Number: #131 submitted by
lokifanKink Showcased: ignoring the sub
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Snape/Draco
Summary: There's much pleasure to enjoy, when one ignores one's boy.
Warnings: d/s, masturbation, toys, cock warming, humiliation, object insertion
Word Count: 2225
Author's Notes: lokifan, I hope this works for you, and at least captures the spirit of the kink! Dom!Severus just wouldn't/couldn't ignore Draco, no matter how much I tried to make him... :(
Ignoring the Sub
Draco has been a whiney, pushy sub their last few sessions, and Severus has had enough.
'Yes! There! Right there, Sir! More! Harder! Permission to come, Sir, now, Sir, now, now, oh fuck, now!'
'Use the clamps, Sir, my nipples beg to ache for you.'
'The whip, Sir, no, no, the cane, please, Sir!'
'Whatever pleases you, Sir, but please not the blindfold, let me see you, Sir, please.'
'I'm trying to be still, Sir, but I just (fuck! there! yes!) I just can't, Sir!'
'I'm trying to be silent, Sir, but I just (harder, Sir, more!) I just can't, Sir!'
'I'm trying to hold on, Sir, but I just (gonna, Sir, fuck, gonna!) I just can't, Sir!
Severus has been indulgent - too long indulgent - but he has seen the way the boy has been beaten down by life of late. The taunts and humiliations of his peers, the cold and callously unreachable expectations of his parents, and the hot and lingering gaze of the Dark Lord. There are times when the boy can weather it all, protected by his own arrogance and haughtiness. But lately, the world has been too harsh, the hurts too many, and the pain too real.
And so, in their private times, Severus has comforted and supported, and in their bedroom, he has coddled and indulged.
But, enough is enough.
It is time to remind Draco of the joy his boy once found as his Sir's submissive.
When Draco arrives, allowing the door to slam shut behind him, throwing himself dramatically onto the sofa, arms crossed, legs crossed, face flushed and foot tapping, Severus is ready.
'Do not get comfortable, boy,' he says by way of welcome, 'you may prepare and serve our supper.'
'We have house elves for that,' eyebrows lost under long fringe, mouth twisted in curling sneer.
'Not this night, boy,' quiet command in his voice. 'This night you will serve.'
'Oh,' Draco sits up straighter. 'Oh, I... you want to do that now?'
'You have a word to use, if you do not wish to proceed.'
'I...' and the prickly pointed peaks of Draco's arrogance slowly bleed away. 'No, no, I don't want to use my word. Just wasn't thinking, really... I... want to, Sir, I want to serve.'
'Then what,' he bites out, 'are you doing sitting, fully-clothed, in my presence? No, not one word, boy, not one word till you are naked and kneeled before me.'
He watches intently as his boy disrobes and neatly folds his clothing. Sees perfect, pale skin blossom slowly in soft shades of pink, there at his cheeks, and there at neck and chest. Sees grace and dignity of movement, wrapped in slender supple youthfulness. Sees softness of cock, and harshness of Mark; sees lightness of step and poise in kneeling. Sees his boy's strength and vulnerability, his pride and fear, his damage and beauty.
'My beautiful boy. I thank you for your submission.'
'It is a gift I willingly give, Sir. How may your boy serve this night?'
'I wish for supper, boy. I have much reading to get through - several submissions I must check tonight to ensure the Potions Monthly Journal is ready for publication on time. You will serve silently and allow me to work. You have demonstrated difficulty in restraint in this area on our last encounter, so tonight I will provide you with an aid.'
'An aid? Sir, please, no. I don't want...'
But Severus has already sighed and with a flick of his wand summons a small ball gag.
'Just the right size to remind you that I have asked for your silence,' he says, beckoning his boy to his feet and inserting the ball into his boy's obediently opened mouth, lifting soft silken hair so as not to get it caught in the fastenings.
Also, of course, he is quite partial to the simple, delightful aesthetics of his boy ball-gagged - lips stretched, gleam of drool, bob of throat, pink of humiliation.
'Good boy,' he soothes, petting soft hair, kissing lightly the edge of the stretched-wide mouth, tongue licking up the small pool of moisture already there. 'You may begin your service.'
He returns to his writing desk and concentrates on reading the draft submissions for the next issue of the journal. Though he carefully keeps his scrutiny on the papers before him, he can't really tell if his boy has even noticed his inattention, so intent is his sub on his service. His boy has moved about quietly and silently, preparing the supper of aromatic tea and favoured biscuits, presenting them beautifully on the small side-table. And when all is in place just so, he has returned to his knees, in perfect presentation, head lowered, at ease in the almost meditative state of his service, quietly waiting.
When ready, Severus beckons him forward to serve the tea, noting the care his boy takes in adding just the right amount of milk to his Sir's tea, the selection of the 'best' biscuit he humbly offers to his Sir, and the loving vigilance with which he waits on his Sir, soft cloth napkin at the ready for his Sir's fingertips.
Severus eats appreciatively, and enjoys his tea to the last drop. Waits patiently while his boy tidies away the tea things and returns once again to kneel by his Sir's side.
'I must finish these papers before I retire for the night,' he says at last, 'but I have something in mind that will keep you occupied while you wait.'
He summons the items he's chosen - biting little nipple clamps for his boy's teasing taunting tits, and one large vibrator for his boy's tempting tantalising hole. He lingers over the attaching and inserting, feeding his boy's anticipation. Transfigures his boy's ball gag into a ring gag. Reaches out and smears dripping saliva over his boys's stretched wide lips, then sucks his finger, tasting the fruits of his boy's silence. His boy's face reddens in embarrassment, humiliated, as his Sir well knows, by his helpless drooling.
While he's busy checking each toy for care of placement, he's not surprised when his boy emits a whiney sound from behind the ring gag and rolls his hips, trying to call his Sir's attention to his boy's awakening cock.
'I have no interest in what you think you might need, boy. I know your needs better than you ever will. Tonight, you need to serve, and you will serve well as my pretty little cock-warmer. On your knees, my cock resting on your tongue. That is all. Nothing more. You will not move or make a sound. I will place my cock through this ring, and rest it on your tongue. And you will receive my cock as the gift it is, and all you will do is contemplate how perfect is your life that you are permitted to nurse my cock on your tongue. And I will finish my work in comfort and in silence.'
He settles them in place, his own knees open wide for his boy's ease of access. It is quite pleasant after all - his sub's mouth warm and moist, his sub's breath a rhythmic caress. After some time, while concentrating on his reading - quill scratching out notes as required - he activates the vibrator buried deep in his boy's hole and with an occasional flick of his wand he sets its speed to low then high then random settings in between.
Although a quiet moan escapes his boy every now and then, Severus pays him no mind. He has two more long articles to check before his night is over. But he does take a moment to ponder the plight of his boy. Imagines the cramps in his boy's knees, no cushioning charm for him tonight. Thinks on the dull numbness of his boy's clamped nipples throbbing to the beat of his pulse. Contemplates the ache of the boy's arousal, surrounded by the taste and feel and smell of his Sir, but unable to act upon it. Pictures the mess of his boy's face, hot and humid, red and sweaty, chin soaked in leaking saliva. Smiles at the thought of the vibrator, gently, tantalizingly, fucking deep within his boy. Wonders if his sub is there yet, there in the space Severus is working so hard to take him.
He finishes the penultimate paper, putting it aside, and reaches for the last. Loses himself in it in his desire to be finished. And yet, always there in his periphery, is his sub. He slows down the vibrator, speeds it up, varies its rhythm, leaves it in an un-patterned un-trackable non-loop. There is something about the relentless nature of the vibrator, how it performs in a state that is totally non-reactive, non-responsive to feedback from his sub - how it ignores the desires and demands of his sub. It tickles something deep within, something closely networked with his Dom-ness, his deviance and his darker desires. And he assesses it, accepts it, and tucks it away to further explore all the possibilities it presents.
For now, though, there's work to be finished, and he attends to it methodically and ruthlessly, as is his want. And every now and then, unplanned and unforced, he reaches down and smooths his hand through his sub's sweat-dampened hair, and murmurs good boy, my good boy.
When at last he puts his quill down, and stacks his completed work into their correct piles, he exhales on an audible sigh of relief. He carefully removes his cock from his sub's mouth, and tucks it away behind the cloth of his trousers. Slides back his chair.
Takes in the sight of his beautiful boy - face pink and sweaty, drenched in drool, hair askew; chest mottled with colour, gleaming with dripped saliva; cock tall and thick and hard and purple; eyes large and blown and glazed; body at ease, on his knees, hands still clasped behind his back.
'Tell me now, boy, how much you want to achieve your own pleasure, what you want, what you need, what you want me, your Sir, to do.' Severus stands, gathering his work together. 'Tell me now, loudly and clearly, how needy you are, how much you want to come, how desperate you are. Though I have heard it all so many times these past few weeks, tell me again now, this last time that I will allow.'
And he busies himself with the putting away of his work, tidies his workspace, removes himself to the kitchen for a glass of water, heads into the bathroom for his nightly ablutions, and finishes up in the bedroom drawing back the quilt readying the bed. He returns to the front room and once more takes his seat before his silent boy.
'Now you may tell me how it felt to attend to the pleasure of your Sir - to offer your service in whatever way your Sir desired. To do what your Sir asked, endure what your Sir wanted, to be all your Sir needed you to be. Tell me now what this meant to you.'
He listens intently to the soft gentle moans his boy makes round the ring gag that disallows words. He hears his boy's whimpers and sees the tears that glisten in his boy's grey eyes. There is nothing demanding in his boy's sounds, nothing harsh or desperate. They are the sounds of a boy who begs only to serve.
'That's right, boy. Feel the difference. Feel this pleasure deep in your soul. It will be my duty to remind you of it when next you go astray.' He leans forward and kisses his boy's forehead, pushing back the damp strands of hair, wiping away tears. He traces round the stretched lips, and rubs little circles in the strained muscles of his boy's jaw.
'Now, for my pleasure, you will make yourself come. It will please me to see you use both hands, touching, caressing your cock and balls. It will also please me to leave the vibrator in, but you may not touch it. Show me, boy, come for me, entirely for your Sir's pleasure.'
And it's a sight to behold - his boy working himself, gliding his fingers and palms along and around his cock; rolling, grasping, rubbing his balls; displaying himself, drawing it out; now humping into his fist, now straining to be still and endure; fast tight-gripped jacking, and slow finger-tipped teasing; guttural moans and high-pitched whimpers - all for his Sir's pleasure.
At the very peak of his boy's bliss, Severus tugs off the nipple clamps, and his boy screams round the gag, body humping helplessly, beyond all control, orgasm convulsing through him, come shooting, eyes rolling back, finally collapsing bonelessly.
He'll forego the cleaning charms tonight, Severus thinks, as he carries his messy boy to their bed, and will cleanse his boy by his own hand - soft cloth and fragranced soap and warm water. It's an indulgence, true, but, he decides, in days as dark as these, such little shared pleasures, that mean so much more, should not be ignored.
fin
