Fic: Fast en Famille

[sashaminx.livejournal.com]

Title: Fast en Famille
Author: sashaminx
Prompt Number: #405 submitted by dexstarr
Kink Showcased: Incest, but also non-con, dub-con, hurt/comfort
Rating: NC17
Pairing(s): Narcissa/Draco
Summary: Draco has always gone that extra mile in the name of family. But this…
Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, D/s, light bdsm, incest, mental-health issues
Word Count: ~6,500
Author's Notes: Thanks immeasurable to my two betas dexstarr & wendypops who had plenty of work to do. The story wouldn’t have been presentable without their help! <3 I’m sorry I spoiled it for you dex :( Yay for the existence of hp_kinkfest so I could explore my darker side =P The title comes from Thomas Moore’s "All in a Family Way" This is a strange fic for a valentines day posting =P


Fast en Famille

Narcissa swept into the room, unbuttoning her day cloak as she went, her insidious expression stirring something uncomfortable within Draco. Since his father had died in custody just after the end of the war, his mother had been steadily losing her grip on reality and now bore more than a passing resemblance to her sister, Bellatrix. She wasn’t nearly as sadistic as his insane aunt had been, but she’d get that look in her eye sometimes, a mad gleam that was so like his Aunt’s, it had Draco thinking that perhaps the insanity was something genetic, hereditary.

Cautiously, ever polite, “Hello mother,” he greeted.

Narcissa glanced at her son briefly before summoning a house elf. “Tuppeny, blanket the manor. My son and I do not wish to be disturbed.” She shed her cloak and dropped it on her personal elf, which then popped out of view with a solemn nod.

She dismissed Draco’s sharply drawn breath. Blanketing the manor was a dramatic gesture and one she only ever made when she was inordinately upset. No one, and nothing could cross the wards, including him once the residence was blanketed, and since she was rather unpredictable when she was upset, at times raging similar to the sister she once feared herself, it made him somewhat nervous.

Narcissa walked over to the liquor cabinet and pulled out two glasses, pouring dark red firewhiskey into both, before picking them up and turning to acknowledge the boy who now watched her every movement with trepidation.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out, Draco?” Narcissa asked, her tone deceptively light as she took a small sip of her drink, eyeing him over the top of her glass.

Draco fidgeted with the papers in front of him, nervously avoiding her eye. His mother unnerved him greatly when she challenged him, yet unlike her sister, he knew she would never hurt him; her mind might be deteriorating, but she still loved him greatly. She had always been there for him. Always. Proving it time and again throughout the war, and now that she needed him as he had once needed her, he would never see her hurt. Never. He would take care of her for the rest of her days in repayment for that love.

He cleared his throat and looked up at her, stilling his hands. “I’m afraid I have no idea to what you are referring.”

Narcissa raised her eyebrows just enough to show she was not fooled. When Draco’s jaw visibly hardened in determination – his effort to stifle this argument before it got underway – her eyes narrowed.

“There would be only one reason you do not know to what I am referring, dearest –there are other things you are hiding from me as well.”

Damn. Draco could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he swallowed. His mother was far too clever, even in her slightly deranged state, and it was hard to keep her from meddling in his affairs. He was now, after all, a man in his own right, an adult responsible for making his own decisions. His own mistakes. And he had made his fair share.

His initial ventures into the field of investment, once he had gained control of the estate, had proved disastrous and he had come close to losing half of the Malfoy vaults, but he now had a mutually beneficial relationship with the firm Mercurius, Medea & Riche, and the vast estate was once again secure.

Draco had also severed the marriage contract his mother had recently arranged (without consulting him) to the younger Greengrass daughter, and he had no intentions of marrying any time soon, and when he did, he would chose his own wife, not some pretty little social piranha that would devour any money or love he might throw her way. It was more than likely that the Greengrasses had taken advantage of his mother’s vulnerable mental state and suggested the match in the first place, greedy opportunists that they were.

Unfortunately, his greatest mistake may have been to underestimate his mother’s declining mental health.

Narcissa placed the second whiskey on the desk for Draco, ever the polite hostess, and gave him a calculating look. “Perhaps if you were to come clean here and now, we could settle this like two adults.”

But Draco knew he could not win this battle.

There was more than one secret he kept from his mother so how was he to know which of them she had discovered herself? Even if, at first, he did; by some freakish chance reveal the information she was already aware of, he wouldn’t put it past her to feign ignorance and push him to reveal something else even more damaging to her psyche. He would do almost anything to avoid hurting her.

He knocked back the dark red whiskey in one go, slamming the glass back down. Not meeting her eye, he did the only thing he could do – protest his innocence. “I can’t imagine what it is you think you have found out, but perhaps you should check your sources first.” He reached for the mail he had received from Gringotts that morning and read it. The words filed passed as he skimmed them, their meanings lost on him as he saw out of the corner of his eye his mother put her drink aside and rest her hip against the desk.

“Then it’s the hard way,” Narcissa sighed. She leaned in and ran a hand through his hair fondly. “It really has been too long since I disciplined you.”

The feel of his mother’s hand as it brushed through his hair was unusually comforting, it wasn’t a gesture she offered freely, so he tilted his head into it slightly as he continued to skim the document. The letters were blurring around the edges, becoming illegible. Draco blinked in an effort to focus on them, but his eyelids were feeling heavier by the second. Somewhere in the increasing fuzziness he recognised the signs of being drugged, but he couldn’t be outraged about it as a bone deep calmness settled over him.

“Surrender your wand, Draco.” His mother held out her hand expectantly, the look in her eyes as she met his heavy gaze was soft and encouraging. He paused for a moment, his thoughts of alarm intangible, wispy things he couldn’t quite get a hold on, before placing his wand in her palm.



*



“Mother, please…” Draco tried to reason through the fog in his brain as a collar encircled his throat. She was almost a head shorter than him, so her arms were stretched high as her nimble fingers buckled it firmly. She whispered something and the collar glowed briefly. “Please… don’t do this.” He swallowed uncomfortably, the collar of black leather with silver runes etched into it too tight when his throat expanded.

“Oh Draco,” Narcissa admonished gently as she walked over to the drawers and picked up wrist cuffs, handing them to Tuppeny. “You have always needed careful guidance, ever since you were a child. Your recent actions have only helped to convince me that you are not yet ready to be trusted with decisions regarding your future.”

“I am an adult, mother!” Draco bit out and then yelped as a fork of pain from the collar lanced down his back, sending him to his knees. Whether the collar was a remnant of the Death Eaters’ stay at the manor, or something else, Draco couldn’t guess, but it was bloody painful. Tuppeny secured the cuffs quickly, avoiding Draco’s gaze, and then Apparated out after a dismissive wave from Narcissa.

She walked to the large hearth and lit the pile of logs; they roared to life. “Stand up, Draco. The cellar floor is hardly a fitting place for a Malfoy.”

Draco stood slowly, his body’s reactions hampered by the drug still wending through his system as his mother adjusted a thick chain that looped through an iron ring fixed atop the central column in the chamber.

She turned, beckoning Draco toward her. “Come forward, dear.”

Draco guessed the warning buzz in the collar meant it would compel him to obey via pain if he didn’t acquiesce, so he walked stiffly to stand facing the column. His mother motioned for him to raise his arms, and used her wand to secure the cuffs to each end of the magically altered chain. She tightened it until only Draco’s toes remained touching the stone floor.

“There,” she quipped, satisfied. She slipped her wand back into her robe and leaned in close to Draco, placing her hands on his back and running them lightly up and down his shirt. “Use the time to think about the choices you have made. We will discuss this further when I return.”

Draco heard her climb the stairs and seal the exit behind her. He let out an anxious breath. How the hell had he ended up here? Still, he could handle this. Hanging by his wrists wouldn’t be comfortable, but when she came back he would moan and maybe even shed a tear, and she would let slip something of what she knew to encourage him to talk. Then, at least, he would have a chance of ending this. He just had to wait it out. He would have to have a talk with Tuppeny about following his mother’s more bizarre orders, though.

But time seemed to crawl by as he hung there with nothing to do, nothing to take his mind off the steadily increasing weight on his wrists. The drug had worn off too, so any anaesthetic affect had also gone and his wrists were beginning to burn. Yet, it couldn’t be long before his mother came back. It was hot down here too, mildly suffocating, in fact, as if the fire consumed almost all of the air within the chamber. Draco’s shirt was wet from sweat and stuck to him in places, his hair was damp around the edges and the occasional drop of salty water stung his eyes uncomfortably.

Draco wasn’t sure how long he hung there in the end. His arms were bloodless and throbbing, his shoulders ached to the point of numbness and he must have passed out, because suddenly his mother was there and releasing the cuffs from the chain.

He dropped like a sack of sand until Tuppeny caught and guided him with magic to lean back against the pole. The pain was suddenly worse as blood rushed back into his limbs and Draco cried out, unable to even rub his arms and help the circulation. When he opened his eyes again, Narcissa was crouched down beside him. She whispered something and the collar shivered.

“Hush,” she soothed, palming his face in her hands. “It’s over now.” She kissed his forehead, pulling him to her breast and caressing him. “You did very well considering you were up there all night. Let’s get you out of these filthy clothes.” She unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders gently and then unlaced his trousers as he turned what she’d said over in his mind. Twelve hours of hanging by his wrists – it was no wonder he was finding it hard to rouse himself. Looking past him, she directed Tuppeny to help move him.

He was lowered into a reclining position, his head slightly higher than the rest of him, and eyes closed, he relaxed gratefully into the leather padding. It was heaven after hanging from the pole and he even allowed himself to drift a little as the pain in his back and shoulders eased slightly. He was so exhausted, the jostling he was undergoing barely registered as his trousers were removed, his legs separated, his arms tucked behind the back of the chair and the cuffs linked.

Tuppeny pulled something beneath Draco - a metallic clank sounded and it was as if the centre of the contraption’s seat had dropped out from between his thighs. It rudely jolted him back to awareness, and the elf flashed him a worried look before popping out again.

Draco stared disbelievingly.

His knees were held firmly in stirrups and as he pulled on them - his breathing increasing to match his speeding heartbeat - he realised they were stuck that way until his mother cared to release them.

“Mother?” It seemed his punishment wasn’t over, after all.

She was standing a few feet away, and Draco noticed she was no longer clad in cobalt robes, but in one of her nightgowns – though it was not one he had ever seen before. White, sheer and short, it concealed nothing of her femininity.

As soon as Draco realised what he was seeing he closed his eyes, turning his head away sharply. “Oh fuck, no!” He panted, a sick feeling sinking low in his belly. And it was about this time Draco realised he was also almost naked. “Mother, please… Stop!”


Narcissa made her way to Draco’s side, though he refused to look at her. “I had a lot of time to think while you were hanging around down here,” she purred. “And I realised its too late for you, Draco.”

Draco’s head spun round bewildered. “Too late?”

Narcissa clarified. “You’re already an adult – as you keep pointing out. And as wonderful as you are,” She leaned down, placing her hand in his hair and whispering intimately, “and you are wonderful, darling,” She straightened. “I’ve already lost you.” She shrugged.

“L-lost me?” Draco wondered. “Lost me how? I’m here for you mother, I always will be-”

“Yes yes yes.” She waved him off dismissively. “But you’re your own person, dear. You are already hiding things from me. You are a man now, and I miss my little Draco. My Shadow.” Draco’s eyes lit in recognition of the pet name his mother used for him until he was around six. The manor had seemed so big to him as a small child, and he had feared getting lost in its hallways and rooms forever, so he had followed his mother everywhere, clinging to the skirts of her robes as she moved about the house until he was given to an elf for settling.

“I want a new little one, all of my own,” she added wistfully.

“I’ll get you a new pet. Whatever you want, mother. A kneazle, or – or a crup – whatever you want,” he repeated, tiny drops of sweat sliding down his skin. “We can go together if you like. Release me, return my wand, and we’ll go.”

Narcissa gave him a disappointed look as she slid into the space between his legs, her hands travelling up his thighs. “What would I do with an animal, Draco? Really. It’s a baby I want.”

The feel of her soft hands stroking his inner thighs drew a gasp from Draco. “A – a b-baby?” He mumbled, distracted. Oh Merlin, he wished his mother would stop touching him like that, it was awkward enough having to look at her standing almost naked between his spread legs.

Narcissa wore her age well and was undeniably beautiful. The few lines on her face only added to her elegance and it was Lucius who had kept her admirers at bay in the past. Her erratic behaviour now proved deterrent enough when Draco’s own cold warning-offs were ignored, but the incentive of the widow Malfoy’s comfortable wealth kept a steady stream of suitors calling to try their luck.

But nothing could overcome the fact that this was his mother, and it was with a tortuous mix of horrified and, oh Salazar’s tits horny that Draco was finally able to get his head around what his mother had said and it was as if the world stopped.

“Ah – a baby?”

“Yes, angel!” She smiled, looking pleased. “Your own little brother to complete our family and make it three again!” She picked up her wand from somewhere Draco couldn’t see and flicked it at him. He closed his eyes reflexively as his underwear vanished. His body was in so much turmoil it didn’t know whether to blush or to pale when he opened his eyes.

“Oh shite,” Draco gulped. “Mother… please tell me you are about to let me go.”

Narcissa looked at him slyly. “Oh, you’re about to be released – just not in the way you mean.” And she climbed onto Draco and straddled his hips, her heated core resting on his limp cock. Panic consumed Draco.

“Mother! Mother, please…” He scraped the plea out of his suddenly dry throat as his body began twisting frantically in an effort to separate their groins. “You don’t know what you’re doing… please!” And this was worse than anything he ever could have guessed. It didn’t bear thinking about. His mother should never, never touch him this way!

“Hush now, Draco,” she soothed until he stopped moving, at a loss to think of what else he could do. “Shhhh.” she leaned down, brushing her hand through his hair as she started humming. The warmth of her body was so familiar and yet so wrong. Draco closed his eyes in despair as she dropped a kiss on his forehead. “Remember? I used to do this for you when you had a nightmare. It was the only way you’d go back to sleep.” She hummed and stroked, and Draco wished this were a nightmare and he could wake up and everything would return to normal.

But somehow this twisted reality was his norm. His mother had been getting progressively worse, and he hadn’t wanted to surrender her to the Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungo’s where she’d be just another one of the crazies the staff endured daily. He had thought he could cope with her changing moods and her altered realities; a situation like this had never occurred to him.

Draco swallowed thickly as he realised that this moment, here and now, would change everything. Nothing would ever be the same again.

“There now, isn’t that better?” his mother crooned.

Meeting her gaze, Draco whispered, “Mother, please… you’re scaring me. You have to let me up.”

“Oh, darling,” she said sympathetically, her body leaning on his, her hands spread across his shoulders. “Mummy will make it all better.”

Draco lay tense, as his mother began dropping kisses across his chest. His breath came in uneven tremors as he stared out at the space in front of him in an effort shut out what was happening.

“You are so beautiful, Draco.” She intoned between kisses, her hands gliding softly over his skin. ”My beautiful boy.” She kissed again, caressing his hip. “So like your father… ”

Her mouth found a nipple and she curled her tongue around it as Draco breathed out, trying to shrink back from it. Seconds later her whole mouth engulfed it and suckled it and it hardened, but Draco felt no thrill at the attention it received, only a sick heavy mass settling in his stomach as his mind searched frantically for a way to stop this before it went any further.

“Mother please… ”

Her hands travelled all over his torso, her fingers lingering on places that got a reaction from him, stroking slowly up his sides and back down to his hips, and when her hand closed around his limp member, he yelped.

She stroked it gently at first, but when nothing happened, her hand gripped tighter and sped up. Draco’s eyes were tightly closed as he tried to shut out what was happening, and when his mother finally sighed and let go of his uninterested member he was sure that it was going to end. He watched as Narcissa slid off and walked away and Draco closed his eyes again, his head flopping back as he breathed a sigh of relief. He took a few long slow breaths and at a too-near sounding clink, opened his eyes. Something was poised above his face, but it was out of focus and he opened his mouth to speak only to have it flooded with a fragrant liquid.

He choked on it, breathing a portion of it in, swallowing some and spitting the rest out. He turned his head and coughed until his airways cleared.

“What the fuck was that?” he croaked.

“That, my dear, was to give you a little help in the performance area.”

“What?” Draco asked, and then his eyes went wide. “A love potion?”

“Of course not!” His mother scolded lightly, returning the empty phial to a nearby surface. “You already love me. I know that. No, it was just a small kick. You father required it on more vigorous occasions towards the end. It’ll help with your little problem.”

“I don’t have a problem!” Draco snapped. “Or at least, I wouldn’t if it was anyone but my mother touching me.”

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. “Well, why on earth should that be a problem? Who could you possibly love more than your own mother?”

“It’s ;wrong for you to touch me!” Draco accused. “You’re sick, mother. You need help!”

“How dare you say such a thing!” she growled back. “No one loves you more than I! I’ve never asked for anything in return until now. It has to be you! You are the only Malfoy left and it has to be family!” Draco stared at her, stunned, and her expression softened. “Don’t you ever get lonely Draco? Wouldn’t someone else who is family, who will love you as much as you love them, be nice?”

“You’re not making any sense, Mother!” Draco’s head dropped back against the leather in exasperation.

Narcissa sighed, “I think I will activate the collar after all.” She whispered and the collar glowed again for a moment. “I do not wish to be spoken to so rudely, Draco. It seems the collar is a necessary reminder for you to behave.”

“It is you who is misbehav–” Draco cried out as pure acidic pain burned down his neck, back and shoulders, radiating out from the collar. His body arced off the chair tautly until the pain, blessedly, finally began to ease.

“I did warn you,” His mother reminded him as she climbed back onto the chair, straddling him again. “Now, if you play nicely and do as I say, I will release you from all of your restraints. Understand?”

Draco’s panting slowed along with his heartbeat, and sweat beaded and dripped here and there as his body relaxed again. He was still so tired and all he wanted was an end to this.

He nodded, defeated.

“Very good, Draco.” His mother caressed his jaw fondly before she undid the few buttons on her gown. It fell open, exposing her breasts fully. Draco swallowed his anguish as she slipped the gown off and tossed it to the floor. “I’m going to release your hands. If you try to fight me in anyway , the collar will fight back twice as hard before you’ve even made a move. It can sense your intent. Do you understand?”

Draco resigned himself for now. “Yes, mother.”

Narcissa reached for her wand. “Of course, you already know my wand is spelled to cripple any other hand that dares touch it. I do not want to see you harmed darling, so please, don’t try.”

Draco nodded his assent. The Wizengamot had returned the confiscated wand he had used near the end of the war, to his mother about the time Potter had seen fit to return his, shortly after the trials and his consequent pardon. The first thing Narcissa had done was to place a terrible curse on hers so no one could ever take it from her again. It was one of the first in a long line of extreme actions that had led to where they were now.

Narcissa released the binding spell on his wrist cuffs.

“Good boy, Draco. It seems– ”

She was cut off by Draco’s scream as the collar unleashed a fury of pain on him. The almost unconscious impulse of throwing his mother off to escape her attentions had barely struck him when the collar had reacted. As fire surged through his blood he arched up, his body wracked with agony, but as the pain ran its course and his body slowly settled back down, he noticed the look his mother was giving him.

“I never thought you a slow learner, Draco.”

“It was an unconscious urge,” he groused. “I’m not bloody stupid!”

“Ah, I always thought you quicker on the up-take,” she conceded indulgently.

Draco groaned, his whole body aching. “I don’t feel all that clever right now.”

“Never fear,” she said lightly.” I shall have you feeling better very soon. Though you’ve quite killed the mood,” she lamented. “You’ll have to get me ready all over again.”

She picked up his hands and placed them on her breasts. “I’m waiting.”

Draco almost thought about removing them, but his collar buzzed threateningly, so he began moving them instead, stilted at first, but lightly massaging her breasts. His mother’s breasts. He winced.

Her nipples, which were surprisingly dark considering how pale the rest of her was, perked up under the touch and he watched as his fingers rolled their silky flesh incidentally. His mother gasped and urged him on, and fearing a backlash, he took the nipples between his thumb and forefingers, the breasts resting heavy in his palm and squeezed them lightly, the familiar actions he had performed many times on women before returning automatically as he rolled them under his thumb, tugging on the tender nubs gently. His mother moaned, leaning into the touch.

“Take them into your mouth, Draco,” she urged, peering down at him through heavy eyelids, the glint in her iris’ reminding him of his aunt Bella as she leaned further against him. “I want your tongue.”

Draco opened his mouth, greeting a breast as it dropped into the warm, wet heat. He laved the nipple tenderly, unwillingly marvelling that he had fed from these breasts once, long ago. He had always enjoyed breasts, and some of the women he had bedded in the past had looked so erotic as he had explored and played, their bodies arching, heads thrown back in desire. It was easy to lose himself in their images as he flicked his tongue and curled it around the pebbling pinkness, his hot breath puffing over the wetness and cooling his tongues warm strokes, thoroughly sensitising it. He took the whole dusky tip of the breast into his mouth and suckled expertly, caressing the velvety flesh with his tongue whilst fingering the other breast, drawing gasps and moans from above him.

Hands clutched at his hair urgently.

“Oh, Draco, so… so beautiful… my beautiful… beautiful boy… my milk you took… mother’s milk… oh, to have another… ”

As her words penetrated his lust-fuelled mind, the sick feeling in his stomach returned and Draco slowly released her reddened nipple. His hips had been pushing forward unconsciously, seeking heat and friction, but there was something so wrong in what was happening and it was forgotten in the heat of the moment when she ground down on him like that – and oh fuck, but he was hard.

His mother had made him hard. And reality slammed back into him. He struggled to get out from under her, fumbling and pushing her breasts from him but the collar shot a bolt of lightening down his back; enough to lift him off the chair with the corresponding jolt, and he cried out.

Narcissa held his face in her hands, her voice pleading. “Oh Draco, don’t fight it. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. Don’t stop now. We can have this!” She kissed his cheek; peppering his jaw in anxious haste as she worked her way down past the offending collar to his chest. She reached back frenetically and felt for Draco’s cock. It had wilted in the aftermath of his realisation and subsequent painful jolt, and his mother’s anguish over its softness was tangible.

“No no no no no!” She cried, sliding off Draco and kneeling between his legs, his cock held fast in both hands. Draco wanted to scold her, to yell at her all of the things wrong with what she was doing, but the collar hummed and heated against his neck in warning.

And then his cock was engulfed in wet heat.

“Oh fuck!” he choked.

She swallowed him down, her tongue moving up and down the underside of his cock as her throat flexed and oh Merlin, it felt amazing. His cock swelled as blood pooled and the rush of arousal swept through him, dragging him unwillingly along for the ride. Automatically his hand had gone to her head to push her away, but he struggled not to trigger the collar after a prickly wave of pain struck his shoulders.

Eventually, panting, his hand went limp in her hair.

Her head repeatedly bobbed as she increased the pressure of her tongue, lapping forcefully. Lightly caressing his balls, she sucked determinedly, adding to the wet heaven she was creating between his legs and he groaned when her hot tongue came up to circle the pulsing head of his dick.

His previously limp hand curled and fisted her loose strands as she swallowed him down to the root eagerly, relaxing her throat and swallowing around him again and again and he was so close. So close to spurting down her throat, to having his mother swallowing his come. His hand tightened painfully in her hair, a sob escaping him as the tension built. And then suddenly the wet heat was gone.

Draco whimpered as his mother climbed onto the chair, straddling him again. She made her way up his body until her core was right in front of his face.

“I want your tongue, Draco,” she breathed. “That beautiful pink tongue of yours inside me. Now!”

Draco felt the collar’s shooting pain as his mind automatically rejected the command. His body arced off the chair and the agony only began to ease as he desperately turned his thoughts to accepting the idea.

He moved closer to his target. It was a neat little core, hairless underneath and all tucked away, and if it had been anyone else’s other than his mother’s he might have enjoyed the chance to tentatively taste and explore it. But it was his mother’s and he wasn’t sure he could do it.

The collar shot two more piercing jets of pure agony down his back, making his jaw clench, and he decided that he could do this. He had to. Maybe if he just tried to imagine it belonged to someone else…

His hands came up to hold the back of his mother’s thighs as he moved in. He paused for a moment, the collar heating his flesh painfully in response, before his tongue swiped along her slit to taste. He was shocked to find her wet through. He paused again as he took it all in.

“Your best effort, darling. As always.”

Draco tried to ignore his mother’s voice as he moved a hand around to the front and slid a finger between the slick lips, over her little clump of nerve endings. Snaking the finger further back, he teased and massaged her inner opening causing her to gasp and rock forward slightly, encouraging him. His tongue slid around her clit and began a gentle rhythm as it circled, his finger pushing into the opening until it was fully inserted.

She tasted musky-sweet and fresh, and not unlike others he had encountered before and somewhere deep inside he reasoned that he could show her the same careful attention he had shown his past lovers, if he tamped down all of the things he didn’t want to think about because, after all, he actually did love his mother much more than any of them.

His finger eased in and out carefully, his knuckles gently pushing on the area around her opening with each pass as his tongue traversed her clit wetly. His mother’s head was tilted back and she groaned.

“Oh, more Draco!”

Her hips thrust forward, taut, as she trailed a hand to her breast, cupping it just so, her other hand lodging in Draco’s sweaty strands. Draco withdrew his finger and reinserted two, continuing to work her clit until it was full and firm.

“Your tongue, Draco,” she whispered fervently, “please.”

Oh. She wanted him to go there.

Draco choked slightly as he ceased his tongues movements and withdrew his fingers slowly, his heartbeat thumping loudly in his chest. The warning pangs of the collar guided him even as he fought the storm in his gut. He used his hand to open her up wide, and then angled his head to her glistening opening, not pausing before squeezing his eyes shut and sliding his tongue in, stretching it deep into her.

He gripped her arse cheek and pushed her forward onto his pink muscle, impaling her, and she moaned loudly, but he couldn’t help the tortured sob that escaped his lips. Humming against her flesh as he persevered, thrusting his tongue as far as he could inside her and laving at her weeping inner walls, tasting her more intimately than he ever should, his slicked thumb rolled gently over her clit in tiny circles as he pushed for this to be over. To be free of his mother’s scent.

It wasn’t long before her body arched, her head thrown back wantonly as she cried out and came, her core spasming around his tongue.

“Oh, Draco!” Narcissa’s voice trembled as her body was wracked by waves of pleasure. Yes… ” and Draco’s tongue was bathed in her juices, inevitably taking them in as they slid down the back of his throat. His thumb slowed to a stop.

When he pulled away, wiping his mouth area on the back of his shaky arm, his dishevelled mother peered down at him with adoring eyes, seemingly unaware of his inner turmoil.

“So talented,” she declared emotionally. “Your son will be blessed.”

Draco’s vision blurred as his mother backed up and positioned herself over his barely hard cock. She slicked her hand with the moisture seeping from deep within her core and began stroking and squeezing Draco to hardness. Without the ‘kick’, he was certain he would never have hardened, positively horrified by what was about to happen, yet his cock responded to her touch; it thickened and lengthened as arousal wove its way through his abdomen. He laid the back of his arm across his eyes in an effort to stave off the image of what was about come; an image that he knew, should he see it, would haunt him forever.

She lowered herself onto his cock and the wet heat sent tendrils of bliss through his groin even though every part of his mind screamed that he didn’t want this. But his body didn’t seem to care less. Trickling wetness escaped the corners of his eyes and he wiped at them viciously with his hands.

His fight may have gone, but he would not be weak. If this had to happen then he would bear it stoically. It was his fault, not hers, for believing he could care for his mother alone. If he had followed the healers advice she’d be safely tucked away in St. Mungo’s rather than riding his cock in the hopes of conceiving an unspeakable child.

His last hope was that she would not conceive, but even as he thought it, he heard the whisperings of a spell that would ensure her body’s readiness.

Draco couldn’t stop the brief, ripple-like chuckle that burst from him, making him temporarily sound madder than his own mother. There was no way to deal with this, he found, and so he lost himself to his own helpless despair, finally caving into the grief and shame that clawed at his insides and letting the devastation quietly consume him.

It was some time before he became aware that his mother’s rhythmic motions had ceased and his legs felt free, the stirrups gone. The collar also hung loosely around his neck, his wrist cuffs no longer there.

Since he had not yet come, he opened his eyes cautiously, not sure what to expect, only to see his mother’s tortured expression.

And it was his mother – his real mother that stared at him, her eyes huge and watery, her face full of realisation and horror and regret, and it was more than Draco could bear. He wiped at his wet cheeks abruptly and leaned up, wrapping his arms around her, clutching her tight as she shattered into a million pieces at his touch, weeping inconsolably into his neck.

“I made you… forced you…” she choked.“Oh Draco, what did I…”

He swore he would never see her hurt and yet here she was, being torn beyond all repair.

Draco held her tightly to him, her smaller body engulfed in his. He couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t let his mother be destroyed.

He changed their positions, turning her onto her back and laying himself on top of her gently so he wouldn’t crush her, yet could stay seated inside her.

The collar slipped to the floor.

He whispered, “No, mother… No. You didn’t force me…” and bent down to kiss her flushed and tear stained cheeks gently. “I wanted this. I wanted you.”

He brushed the damp strands from her face and began moving inside her with careful thrusts so as not to scare her.

A small gasp escaped her lips, her fingers digging into his biceps.

“I wanted it, mother, just as much as you,” he reassured softly. “I wanted it too. So it’s okay. It’s okay… ”

She stared up at him through the eyes of drowning child as he continued murmuring endearments and encouragements. He fucked her carefully and tenderly as if she were made of the rarest china.

As he gazed into her eyes he could see awareness of the truth in them, but also the desperate need to grasp the lifeline he offered. Narcissa’s breath hitched with Draco’s every inward thrust, her gaze never leaving his. She was no longer weeping uncontrollably due to the damage she had wrought. She wasn’t completely broken anymore nor was she healed; she was somewhere in between and it was enough for Draco to know that he had saved her.

Draco finally shuddered and came deep inside her, enfolding her with strong arms in his protective embrace as she hiccoughed into his shoulder.

He had no idea what had restored his mother’s sanity – perhaps it was the spell she cast on herself, or the wrongness of the act itself that brought her back, or perhaps it was an inevitable rebound after sinking so far into hysteria. Whatever the reason, he had his mother back.

And they would get through this. Draco would make sure of it. He would come through for her and she would be all right. They would be all right, no matter what came next.

Whatever the results of their union.

They were family, and that’s what Malfoys did.


OMG I hope this LJ cut works! I've never used one before...