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hpkinkfestTitle: Ashtray Girl
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
seatbeltdrivein
Prompt Number: #29 submitted bynolagal
Kink Showcased: forced feminization with the supplementary prompt ‘corset’
Rating: NC17
Pairing(s): Harry Potter/Scorpius Malfoy
Summary: He didn’t want to be a girl, but he did want to be Harry’s, no matter the conditions.
Warnings: ADW (45/19), forced feminization/genderplay, oral sex, implied infidelity, unhealthy/controlling relationship, implications of Harry’s unresolved emotional problemstyping that makes me laugh
Word Count: 2000~
Author's Notes: I’d originally meant for this to be super porny and fun, but I didn’t quite hit the mark. Forced feminization is generally a consensual act despite its name. The ‘forced’ part is an act for the scene. However, Scorpius is not exactly what I’d call willing in this, and Harry isn’t exactly what I’d call responsible in this. There is definitely an element of coercion, and possibly dubcon, on Harry’s part. In essence, I suggest you read behind the lines while you, you know, read.
And finally, thanks to the mods being understanding about my posting for this fic! I had a bit of an emergency and they were very awesome and obliging about it! :)
Scorpius hated when Harry would grab him by the waist, the older man’s hands sliding to the slight dip in the middle of his torso and squeezing. It never failed to remind him of the way his father held his mother, the way a man would hold a woman. But even more than that, Scorpius hated himself for the way his breathing sped up whenever Harry manhandled him, for the intense heat that spread from his groin whenever he spoke directly into Scorpius’ ear and called him his little girl.
oOoOo
“I’ll be out for the night,” Scorpius said, stepping into the dining room. His father opened his mouth, clearly startled, then seemed to think better of it and nodded.
“Where will you be?” His mother cut in. “You’ve been disappearing so often lately. Is there—”
“Astoria,” his father interrupted. For a moment, his mother looked likely to rebel, but the elder Malfoy man quelled the urge with a single look. Scorpius thought of Harry.
“May I be excused?” He asked after a moment, already backing out of the room. Formalities, he sneered to himself, not bothering to wait for his father’s approval before walking swiftly from the dining hall.
Occasions where Scorpius found himself grateful for the overwhelming impersonality of the manor were few and far between, but having the ability to isolate himself from his intrusive mother and distant father was his saving grace on Harry Nights. The door to his rooms had barely clicked shut behind him when he Apparated, the neutral tones of his bedroom bleeding into the bright blue sitting room of the flat Harry kept up with for them.
“I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show up!” Harry pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against to grab Scorpius, pulling the younger man close and resting his chin on the top of Scorpius’ head. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured.
“It’s been three days,” Scorpius said pointedly. Harry just laughed.
“We’re going out tonight,” he said, his tone dropping in temperature as he took in Scorpius’ trousers. “You won’t be wearing that, of course. There’s something for you in the bedroom.” Harry had always had the ability to unsettle Scorpius, from the moment he’d met the man while visiting Albus over the summer holiday before second year. A single cool word had been enough to make a pre-adolescent Scorpius feel a sharp pang of disappointment in himself. Now the man merely had to look at Scorpius—clearly disdainful of his obvious maleness—and he’d be drowning in self-loathing. When Harry wasn’t standing right in front of him, Scorpius was able to acknowledge how unhealthy what they had was, but once he was in the same room as Harry, his brain would fixate on doing anything and everything the older man wanted, no matter how bruised and broken it might leave his pride and masculinity.
“I’ll go change,” he said quietly, meeting those sharp green eyes for a brief moment and biting back the urge to curse the man for daring to have so much power over him.
“You’ll need help,” Harry said, smile once again firmly in place.
“Thank you,” Scorpius said vaguely and nodded, eyes downcast as Harry held open the bedroom door for him, his mind already reorganizing itself for the night. Their destination for the night was apparently formal, if the clothing laid out on the bed was any indication.
“Clothes,” Harry said, tugging on Scorpius’ bland button-up shirt with obvious impatience. As the younger man pulled the clothing off hurriedly, tossing them into the corner, Harry sat down on the bed, grabbing the pair of thin black panties he’d laid out earlier and stretching them distractedly, his eyes trained on Scorpius. “All right,” he said once the man was fully disrobed. “C’mere. Leg up,” he prompted, holding the panties out for Scorpius to maneuver his legs into the holes.
His face burned and he was valiantly holding back an indignant shriek, but Scorpius found himself complying nonetheless, allowing Harry to pull the uncomfortable garment over his thighs, snapping the thin straps against his waist. He continued to say nothing as Harry slipped the thick black garters up his thighs. Harry was obviously excited, his leg jiggling restlessly between Scorpius’ knees as he fitted on the lacy waist cinching corset. “Suck in,” he muttered distractedly, and Scorpius took a deep breath and held it while Harry fastened the abomination around his torso and linked it to the garters.
The last time Harry had trussed him up so much, they’d gone to a muggle theatre and sat in a private box. Well, Harry had sat in the private box. He’d sat on his knees with his face in the older man’s lap, unable to breathe much at all between the restraining corset laced so tightly and the cock wedged down his throat.
Harry made a pleased noise as he ran his hands down Scorpius’ exaggerated waist, and Scorpius managed to hold his tongue for all of another five seconds until Harry held up the brassiere, the cups rounded and held in shape by thin wires stretching from the edges of the forms to the centers.
“Absolutely not!” He snapped, shoving Harry’s questing hands away roughly. “Look, I don’t mind all of this,” he waved his hand at his lingerie-clad lower half, “so much, but if you think for one second that I’m going to—to—put on a—wear that just so you can cop a feel in public and not feel like a bloody poofter, then you have another thing coming!”
“Finished, then?” Harry said, his voice bland and his face dark. Scorpius nodded, his stomach dropping as his mind rehashed what he’d just said—and who he’d said it to.
“I—” Harry cut him off with a single look, and as his mouth clicked shut obediently, Scorpius thought of his mother, so cowed by his father’s every word. His anger simmered into a sharp pang of self-loathing, and he lowered his head. “I’m sorry.” His voice was small, and Harry smiled, patting his cheek condescendingly.
“I know, baby. Now be a good girl—” Scorpius flinched—“and put your arms up.”
“Harry,” he said weakly, his arms already above his head.
“Shh,” Harry slid the straps over his arms and reached around him, his cheek resting against Scorpius’ chest as he hooked the clasp against his back. Scorpius closed his eyes, his arms dropping down to Harry’s shoulders. “There we are,” he said finally, pulling away from Scorpius and tugging the brassiere down a bit, eyeing it critically for a moment before grinning. “Very nice.” Scorpius frowned uncomfortably, crossing his arms against his stomach.
“Is that really necessary?” Scorpius asked quietly. Harry molded his hands over the protruding cups and slid them down to the narrow dip of his waist, dragging the younger man down into his lap as he sat back on the mattress.
“It is,” Harry said simply. “You’re beautiful.” Scorpius knew he was beautiful to Harry in that moment, but the part of his mind that craved any attention from Harry knew not to press the issue. He settled for nodding, digging his fingertips into Harry’s shoulders. “That’s my girl,” Harry said fondly, reaching behind himself to grab the dress. It was tasteful—for once. Harry had a penchant for Scorpius in tiny dresses without much more fabric than a rag. Pushing off of Harry’s knees, Scorpius held the dress up to his body, pleased when it fell a few inches below his knees. A quick glance at Harry told him nothing; the man’s face was completely blank, even as he pulled the dress over his head spun around experimentally. The dress had a crew neckline, and the reinforced cups on the brassiere Harry had forced on him gave the easy illusion of breasts. The gray fabric was clingy and stretched around his knees, pulling obligingly every time he took a step.
“What do you think?” Scorpius asked hesitantly when the older man still hadn’t said a word.
“It’s perfect,” Harry said, standing. He rested one hand on Scorpius’ waist, running it up to his ‘breasts’ and then back down all the way to his hips. There was no doubt in Scorpius’ mind that he looked more a women that night than he ever had in all the time he’d been seeing Harry. Scorpius pushed closer, his forehead dropping to Harry’s shoulder as the man’s hand slid from his waist to his back, resting just above the swell of his ass.
“Thank you,” Scorpius swallowed. Harry’s hand went lower, and Scorpius tried to push away. “We should go,” he said when the hand pushed him back against Harry’s chest. “Dinner, remember? Harry—”
“Later,” Harry muttered, pulling the gray fabric up and slipping his hand into the panties, cupping a cheek and squeezing roughly. Harry groaned, his breath hot against Scorpius’ neck. Scorpius just squirmed, unsure.
“Harry,” he said again. “We should go—”
“Quiet,” Harry scolded, the hand now kneading his cheek. He thrusts his hips into Scorpius, his obviously hardening cock rubbing against the younger man’s hip. Scorpius let out a shaky breath.
“Do you want me to…?” He looked up. Harry hummed, releasing Scorpius’ ass and nudging him to his knees with his other hand. Scorpius dropped down quickly, his knees uncomfortable against the rough carpeting. He pulled Harry’s trousers open and tugged out his dick. Harry wound his hands into Scorpius’ ear, tugging it sharply when Scorpius pulled too hard.
“Hurry,” Harry said, his hips jerking and pushing the head of his cock against Scorpius’ face. Scorpius wrapped both hands around the base and mouthed at the head, humming against it when Harry’s grip went slack. He was often horrible at deep throating, so he settled for sucking in a few inches and tonguing the tip, his hands jerking the rest. “Good girl,” Harry panted, threading his fingers through Scorpius’ hair over and over. Scorpius willed his own cock to lose interest and took Harry’s deeper, hallowing his cheeks and running his tongue up and down it. The only warning he got before Harry came was the man’s hands tightening almost painfully in his hair and holding him in place. He closed his eyes and groaned as Harry pulled off him, wiping his mouth discretely. “Stand up,” Harry said simply, tucking himself back in.
Scorpius’ cock was hard beneath the layers of clothing, the obvious bulge in the front of his dress giving him away rather spectacularly. “You should take care of that,” Harry said off-handedly.
“I suppose,” Scorpius replied. Harry leaned against the bed again, watching.
“Well?”
“What do you mean, ‘well’?” Scorpius snapped, moving his hands over his crotch defensively. Harry scowled at him, and Scorpius felt his erection wither in response. “Never mind,” he said quickly. “I’m fine, really.”
“Whatever you say,” Harry shrugged. “Shoes are on the bed. I’ll be waiting in the kitchen.”
He walked out of the room and slammed the door, leaving Scorpius feeling like he’d swallowed a stone. He’d messed up again, he noted glumly, tugging the straps of the heeled sandals around his thin, hairless ankles. Harry hated any reminder of Scorpius being male. It was one of the rules they had, that whenever Scorpius was ‘dressed’ he wouldn’t allude to his gender, and it ranked almost as high as ‘never mention Ginevra Potter or the kids while Harry was fucking him’. He’d done that once, and Harry had immediately made him regret it by pulling out of him and, literally, walking away.
He would make it up to the man, he decided. Taking a hesitant first step in the new shoes, he hurried to the bathroom adjoining the bedroom and pulled out the make up he kept behind the mirror. It would be easy. Make up always covered everything, like putting on the face of someone better.
When he was done, he walked into the kitchen, heels clicking against the tile. Harry took one look at him and smiled, and Scorpius was his girl again.
Author:
seatbeltdriveinPrompt Number: #29 submitted by
nolagalKink Showcased: forced feminization with the supplementary prompt ‘corset’
Rating: NC17
Pairing(s): Harry Potter/Scorpius Malfoy
Summary: He didn’t want to be a girl, but he did want to be Harry’s, no matter the conditions.
Warnings: ADW (45/19), forced feminization/genderplay, oral sex, implied infidelity, unhealthy/controlling relationship, implications of Harry’s unresolved emotional problems
Word Count: 2000~
Author's Notes: I’d originally meant for this to be super porny and fun, but I didn’t quite hit the mark. Forced feminization is generally a consensual act despite its name. The ‘forced’ part is an act for the scene. However, Scorpius is not exactly what I’d call willing in this, and Harry isn’t exactly what I’d call responsible in this. There is definitely an element of coercion, and possibly dubcon, on Harry’s part. In essence, I suggest you read behind the lines while you, you know, read.
And finally, thanks to the mods being understanding about my posting for this fic! I had a bit of an emergency and they were very awesome and obliging about it! :)
Scorpius hated when Harry would grab him by the waist, the older man’s hands sliding to the slight dip in the middle of his torso and squeezing. It never failed to remind him of the way his father held his mother, the way a man would hold a woman. But even more than that, Scorpius hated himself for the way his breathing sped up whenever Harry manhandled him, for the intense heat that spread from his groin whenever he spoke directly into Scorpius’ ear and called him his little girl.
“I’ll be out for the night,” Scorpius said, stepping into the dining room. His father opened his mouth, clearly startled, then seemed to think better of it and nodded.
“Where will you be?” His mother cut in. “You’ve been disappearing so often lately. Is there—”
“Astoria,” his father interrupted. For a moment, his mother looked likely to rebel, but the elder Malfoy man quelled the urge with a single look. Scorpius thought of Harry.
“May I be excused?” He asked after a moment, already backing out of the room. Formalities, he sneered to himself, not bothering to wait for his father’s approval before walking swiftly from the dining hall.
Occasions where Scorpius found himself grateful for the overwhelming impersonality of the manor were few and far between, but having the ability to isolate himself from his intrusive mother and distant father was his saving grace on Harry Nights. The door to his rooms had barely clicked shut behind him when he Apparated, the neutral tones of his bedroom bleeding into the bright blue sitting room of the flat Harry kept up with for them.
“I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show up!” Harry pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against to grab Scorpius, pulling the younger man close and resting his chin on the top of Scorpius’ head. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured.
“It’s been three days,” Scorpius said pointedly. Harry just laughed.
“We’re going out tonight,” he said, his tone dropping in temperature as he took in Scorpius’ trousers. “You won’t be wearing that, of course. There’s something for you in the bedroom.” Harry had always had the ability to unsettle Scorpius, from the moment he’d met the man while visiting Albus over the summer holiday before second year. A single cool word had been enough to make a pre-adolescent Scorpius feel a sharp pang of disappointment in himself. Now the man merely had to look at Scorpius—clearly disdainful of his obvious maleness—and he’d be drowning in self-loathing. When Harry wasn’t standing right in front of him, Scorpius was able to acknowledge how unhealthy what they had was, but once he was in the same room as Harry, his brain would fixate on doing anything and everything the older man wanted, no matter how bruised and broken it might leave his pride and masculinity.
“I’ll go change,” he said quietly, meeting those sharp green eyes for a brief moment and biting back the urge to curse the man for daring to have so much power over him.
“You’ll need help,” Harry said, smile once again firmly in place.
“Thank you,” Scorpius said vaguely and nodded, eyes downcast as Harry held open the bedroom door for him, his mind already reorganizing itself for the night. Their destination for the night was apparently formal, if the clothing laid out on the bed was any indication.
“Clothes,” Harry said, tugging on Scorpius’ bland button-up shirt with obvious impatience. As the younger man pulled the clothing off hurriedly, tossing them into the corner, Harry sat down on the bed, grabbing the pair of thin black panties he’d laid out earlier and stretching them distractedly, his eyes trained on Scorpius. “All right,” he said once the man was fully disrobed. “C’mere. Leg up,” he prompted, holding the panties out for Scorpius to maneuver his legs into the holes.
His face burned and he was valiantly holding back an indignant shriek, but Scorpius found himself complying nonetheless, allowing Harry to pull the uncomfortable garment over his thighs, snapping the thin straps against his waist. He continued to say nothing as Harry slipped the thick black garters up his thighs. Harry was obviously excited, his leg jiggling restlessly between Scorpius’ knees as he fitted on the lacy waist cinching corset. “Suck in,” he muttered distractedly, and Scorpius took a deep breath and held it while Harry fastened the abomination around his torso and linked it to the garters.
The last time Harry had trussed him up so much, they’d gone to a muggle theatre and sat in a private box. Well, Harry had sat in the private box. He’d sat on his knees with his face in the older man’s lap, unable to breathe much at all between the restraining corset laced so tightly and the cock wedged down his throat.
Harry made a pleased noise as he ran his hands down Scorpius’ exaggerated waist, and Scorpius managed to hold his tongue for all of another five seconds until Harry held up the brassiere, the cups rounded and held in shape by thin wires stretching from the edges of the forms to the centers.
“Absolutely not!” He snapped, shoving Harry’s questing hands away roughly. “Look, I don’t mind all of this,” he waved his hand at his lingerie-clad lower half, “so much, but if you think for one second that I’m going to—to—put on a—wear that just so you can cop a feel in public and not feel like a bloody poofter, then you have another thing coming!”
“Finished, then?” Harry said, his voice bland and his face dark. Scorpius nodded, his stomach dropping as his mind rehashed what he’d just said—and who he’d said it to.
“I—” Harry cut him off with a single look, and as his mouth clicked shut obediently, Scorpius thought of his mother, so cowed by his father’s every word. His anger simmered into a sharp pang of self-loathing, and he lowered his head. “I’m sorry.” His voice was small, and Harry smiled, patting his cheek condescendingly.
“I know, baby. Now be a good girl—” Scorpius flinched—“and put your arms up.”
“Harry,” he said weakly, his arms already above his head.
“Shh,” Harry slid the straps over his arms and reached around him, his cheek resting against Scorpius’ chest as he hooked the clasp against his back. Scorpius closed his eyes, his arms dropping down to Harry’s shoulders. “There we are,” he said finally, pulling away from Scorpius and tugging the brassiere down a bit, eyeing it critically for a moment before grinning. “Very nice.” Scorpius frowned uncomfortably, crossing his arms against his stomach.
“Is that really necessary?” Scorpius asked quietly. Harry molded his hands over the protruding cups and slid them down to the narrow dip of his waist, dragging the younger man down into his lap as he sat back on the mattress.
“It is,” Harry said simply. “You’re beautiful.” Scorpius knew he was beautiful to Harry in that moment, but the part of his mind that craved any attention from Harry knew not to press the issue. He settled for nodding, digging his fingertips into Harry’s shoulders. “That’s my girl,” Harry said fondly, reaching behind himself to grab the dress. It was tasteful—for once. Harry had a penchant for Scorpius in tiny dresses without much more fabric than a rag. Pushing off of Harry’s knees, Scorpius held the dress up to his body, pleased when it fell a few inches below his knees. A quick glance at Harry told him nothing; the man’s face was completely blank, even as he pulled the dress over his head spun around experimentally. The dress had a crew neckline, and the reinforced cups on the brassiere Harry had forced on him gave the easy illusion of breasts. The gray fabric was clingy and stretched around his knees, pulling obligingly every time he took a step.
“What do you think?” Scorpius asked hesitantly when the older man still hadn’t said a word.
“It’s perfect,” Harry said, standing. He rested one hand on Scorpius’ waist, running it up to his ‘breasts’ and then back down all the way to his hips. There was no doubt in Scorpius’ mind that he looked more a women that night than he ever had in all the time he’d been seeing Harry. Scorpius pushed closer, his forehead dropping to Harry’s shoulder as the man’s hand slid from his waist to his back, resting just above the swell of his ass.
“Thank you,” Scorpius swallowed. Harry’s hand went lower, and Scorpius tried to push away. “We should go,” he said when the hand pushed him back against Harry’s chest. “Dinner, remember? Harry—”
“Later,” Harry muttered, pulling the gray fabric up and slipping his hand into the panties, cupping a cheek and squeezing roughly. Harry groaned, his breath hot against Scorpius’ neck. Scorpius just squirmed, unsure.
“Harry,” he said again. “We should go—”
“Quiet,” Harry scolded, the hand now kneading his cheek. He thrusts his hips into Scorpius, his obviously hardening cock rubbing against the younger man’s hip. Scorpius let out a shaky breath.
“Do you want me to…?” He looked up. Harry hummed, releasing Scorpius’ ass and nudging him to his knees with his other hand. Scorpius dropped down quickly, his knees uncomfortable against the rough carpeting. He pulled Harry’s trousers open and tugged out his dick. Harry wound his hands into Scorpius’ ear, tugging it sharply when Scorpius pulled too hard.
“Hurry,” Harry said, his hips jerking and pushing the head of his cock against Scorpius’ face. Scorpius wrapped both hands around the base and mouthed at the head, humming against it when Harry’s grip went slack. He was often horrible at deep throating, so he settled for sucking in a few inches and tonguing the tip, his hands jerking the rest. “Good girl,” Harry panted, threading his fingers through Scorpius’ hair over and over. Scorpius willed his own cock to lose interest and took Harry’s deeper, hallowing his cheeks and running his tongue up and down it. The only warning he got before Harry came was the man’s hands tightening almost painfully in his hair and holding him in place. He closed his eyes and groaned as Harry pulled off him, wiping his mouth discretely. “Stand up,” Harry said simply, tucking himself back in.
Scorpius’ cock was hard beneath the layers of clothing, the obvious bulge in the front of his dress giving him away rather spectacularly. “You should take care of that,” Harry said off-handedly.
“I suppose,” Scorpius replied. Harry leaned against the bed again, watching.
“Well?”
“What do you mean, ‘well’?” Scorpius snapped, moving his hands over his crotch defensively. Harry scowled at him, and Scorpius felt his erection wither in response. “Never mind,” he said quickly. “I’m fine, really.”
“Whatever you say,” Harry shrugged. “Shoes are on the bed. I’ll be waiting in the kitchen.”
He walked out of the room and slammed the door, leaving Scorpius feeling like he’d swallowed a stone. He’d messed up again, he noted glumly, tugging the straps of the heeled sandals around his thin, hairless ankles. Harry hated any reminder of Scorpius being male. It was one of the rules they had, that whenever Scorpius was ‘dressed’ he wouldn’t allude to his gender, and it ranked almost as high as ‘never mention Ginevra Potter or the kids while Harry was fucking him’. He’d done that once, and Harry had immediately made him regret it by pulling out of him and, literally, walking away.
He would make it up to the man, he decided. Taking a hesitant first step in the new shoes, he hurried to the bathroom adjoining the bedroom and pulled out the make up he kept behind the mirror. It would be easy. Make up always covered everything, like putting on the face of someone better.
When he was done, he walked into the kitchen, heels clicking against the tile. Harry took one look at him and smiled, and Scorpius was his girl again.
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