Kiz (killer_the_cat) wrote in pwfa,
Kiz
killer_the_cat
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Hey all! This is my new fic in my Colin series. This story comes two months after The Angst.   Please R/R-Thank you.

Story: THE GAME

Author: killer_the_cat

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Yes I suck at summaries, but here it goes. This story is the continuing torment of Colin Creevey-Not the happy go lucky prat prtrayed in the books, but a angsty teen. AKA-Lucius' Fuck Toy.

X-posted -alot. Sorry-please forgive for that!

 

The Game By Killer_the_cat

I fall hard onto by knees from the fireplace, having just flooed from Professor Snape’s private quarters. As I stand up and brush myself off, I glance around at my all too familiar surroundings. The coldness that emanates from this room is not only from the décor, but also reverberates from the sole occupant inside. There he is; Lucius Malfoy. I begin to undo the clasps on my outer robes now secure in the knowledge of what is expected of me. I allow the robe to pool around my feet while I listen to the scritch, scratch of Lucius’ quill flying across a piece of parchment. I look over to the corner of the study where he is sitting at his desk. His long blond mane curtains his face; all his concentration is focused on the bit of parchment in front of him. I sigh and turn my back as my fingers begin to fumble with my Gryffindor tie and toe off my shoes. The routine is stale, always the same every Friday night for the last two months. I begin my Fridays in Professor Snape’s bed chambers immediately after classes so that he can have a few hours of ‘fun and games’ (as the bastard calls it) before he sends me on my way to Malfoy Manor for Lucius’ playtime. On some occasions, I climb out of Professor Snape’s floo afterwards looking so tousled and debauched from Lucius ruthless fuckings, that Snape can’t help, but take me for another enthusiastic round. I know the question you are about to ask; believe me I ask of myself all the time. Why do I allow myself to be used in this manner? I for one do not have an answer. Maybe it is because I have fully given up on the possibility of the man I love, actually loving me back? Perhaps it is that I crave closeness to another human being so much that I am willing to give up on all the dignity and moral that I have just to be touched? Could it be that I like spending my Saturday mornings so sore that I can barely move? Do I actually derive pleasure in being fucked into the carpeting several times in one night? Maybe I am just a masochistic prick? I shake my head not knowing the answers to these questions and throw my tie carelessly on the floor next to my robes. My hand moves to the collar of my shirt and starts to fumble with the buttons there, when another larger, pair of hands cover mine. I close my eyes and begin to drink in Lucius’ intoxicating odor. I am lost in my quiet reverie for only a few moments, before Lucius does something so unexpected, that my eyes fly wide open with shock. He begins to rebutton the buttons. My mouth drops open in confusion and Lucius takes it as in invitation to slide his tongue into my open cavern of wetness. The tip of his tongue dances over my tongue (which is still frozen in astonishment) in a soothing manner. He has never bothered to be gentle in the slightest before. Rough play is his forte and he derives great pleasure in it. His tongue begins a slow retreat from my mouth just as my tongue loosens up enough to respond to his motions. I open my mouth to question his motives, but immediately close it when he moves his mouth to my ear and I feel the tiny hairs moving at the back of my head from his warm breath. He delicately licks the outer shell of my hair before whispering in a husky voice, "I had plans for something different tonight."

I instinctively take a few steps back from his firm grasp and turn to look at him with wary eyes. Lucius’ ‘something different’ in the past has always left me with new bruises and inventive scars the morning after.

He chuckles deeply at the look I have of my face. Without even looking in a mirror I know that my face is guarded and that there is a flash of fear in my eyes.

"Colin, the idea I have in mind is for your pleasure as well," he says before taking me back into his arms. For the second time tonight I am completely astounded. My pleasure has never been a concern with either of us. My purpose was never under question; I am Lucius’ fuck toy. A plaything for merely his amusement alone.

When I finally find my voice, I am disgusted to find it shaky. "Wh-what did you h-have in mind, Sir?" I finally stammer out.

He grasps my chin in his deceivingly delicate fingers and looks into my eyes. "On several occasions, you have pleased me greatly by play acting to be someone I wanted to bed. Tonight I return the favor. I want for you to pretend that I am the man or woman you desire tonight. I will act out the part of him or her for you tonight. Tell me their name."

I gulp at the thought of the one man I truly want. To tell Lucius his name would be suicide, would it not? I shake my head free of my thoughts and say in a small voice, "Harry, sir. Harry Potter."

Looking straight into Lucius’ eyes I see a flash of what could only be anger in them. The flash passes and his mouth relaxes into an evil smirk. "Mr. Potter, eh? I think I can manage to be The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-A-Thorn-In-My-Side for one bloody night." He moves his right arm to the back of my knees and picks me up with his left hand supporting my back. I struggle slightly and twist in his arms to lock eyes with him. "Sir?" I ask with a raise of my eyebrows. Every other time I have spent with Lucius, we have remained in his study with him fucking me on the floor or on rare occasions when he was being generous; the couch.

He begins the ascent up the stairs in the grand hallway before answering my question. "We are going to the bedroom. And Colin, consider me to be Harry tonight, not Sir."

"Yes….Harry," I say hesitantly as Lucius kicks open the door to his bedroom and lays me on the bed. I barely have time to take in my surroundings before Lucius is on me, kissing me again in this new, unusual, passionate manner. I ignore the small voice in the back of my head telling me ‘this is too good to be true’ and give in to the bliss I am feeling. I close my eyes and imagine that the hair that I am running my hands through is a silky, inky black. I feel fingers deftly unbuttoning my shirt and picture them browned from the sun and calloused from hours of Quidditch training. I moan as a tongue flicks across my right nipple and then slides across my chest to duplicate the action on the left one. I tell myself internally that this is the same tongue that I see poking ever so slightly out of the corner of Harry’s mouth when he is concentrated on studying in the common room. His slick tongue focuses on my navel next and licks teasingly around the outside rim of it. The strong fingers undo my trouser buttons and yank the trousers off my legs. I groan appreciatively as the tongue slowly undulates against my shaft and the hands gently force me to spread my legs further apart.

I am so lost in my fantasy that I cry out, "Suck me, Harry."

I hold my breath, but the only thing Lucius does is cover the head of my penis with his mouth and suck on it slowly. I arch my hips trying to get him to take more of me into his mouth. He complies and soon I am swallowed down to my short hairs. His tongue massages my cock and I feel the tip of a well-oiled finger run up and down over my crevice. He slowly pushes it into my puckered hole and I feel myself bucking on the bed once again. I can feel my orgasm coming at a rapid pace, but I know that I want him to be fully sheathed in me when it does come. I can’t stop myself from shouting out, "Oh gods Harry. I need to feel you inside me. Please fuck me!"

I close my eyes and lose myself to the pleasure as Lucius slowly breeches my hole. I gasp with anticipation as he pushes himself fully inside. His hand takes of the place of his mouth on my cock and he strokes in time to his pushes. He begins to thrust repeatedly into me, slow at first, but moving into a fast pace rather quickly. I hear a moan from above me and the images of Harry’s honey coated voice releasing such sounds of passion while plowing into me throws me over the edge. I shout Harry’s name as my come seeps through Lucius’ fingers and spills over onto my belly. I feel my ass tighten hard around Lucius’ cock, applying pressure. Enough pressure, in fact for him to come inside me with great spurts. He slowly slides his dick out of me and stands up. He retrieves his wand from the pile of clothes that I hadn’t even realized he had removed. He spells himself with a cleansing charm and begins to get dressed. I sit up and begin to copy his movements, when a he places a hand on my chest preventing me from such action.

The patented ‘Malfoy smirk’ is in place and once again there is an evil glint in his eyes. "Oh no, my dear Colin. We are far from finished with our game."

He applies more pressure to my chest effectively pushing back into a horizontal position once more. I turn my head to gaze at him in wonder of what else he has planned. He walks to his wardrobe and removes a leather-riding whip. I quickly pull myself into the sitting position again and move as close to the headboard as possible. I wrap my arms around my legs in a protective manner.

"Now Colin, since you didn’t follow the rules, I am afraid I am going to have to punish you," Lucius says with fake sympathy.

My voice cracks as I reply, "Rules? What rules?"

"The rules to the game if course. You can’t have a game without rules and you broke one. You said your beloved’s name out loud. Actually you said it four times in fact. I believe three blows with the whip for each time you said his name should be sufficient. Turn around and bend over."

Disobeying, I make no motion to move, but instead simply say, "You never said anything about not being able to not say his name!"

Lucius raises an eyebrow. "Hmmm….must have slipped my mind. Now turn around and bend over or you shall receive more swats for your impudence."

I reluctantly comply and try my hardest not to scream out in agony every time the leather connects with my bare ass. Lucius puts all his force into every strike, obviously deriving a great deal of pleasure from my pain. I can feel my flesh rip with ever blow as if it is being torn in two. The blood trickles down into my crevice and pools around my rectum, mixing with Lucius’ drying cum. I sense the sticky, wetness when the cracks on my legs open new wounds. I can taste the saltiness of my tears as they run into my mouth and I try to stem their flow before Lucius is finished and sees the state I am in. Luckily my eyes agree to cooperate and he is not given the pleasure to see my pain. As I rise from the bed I see the once white sheets are now blood soaked. Lucius, after storing the whip back in it’s rightful place in the wardrobe, notices my stare and says offhandedly, "I was going to throw those sheets out anyway." With a flick of his wand the filthy sheets are removed and replaced with a clean, black, silk set. He removes his clothes once more and vanishes them as well. He turns down his bed and settles his naked body between them, clearly ready to fall asleep for the night. As I bring my face up to look into his, I notice him frowning again.

"Well what are you still doing here? You know where the fireplace is. Kindly show yourself out," he says with a pointed look. I nod slowly and begin my walk of shame back to the fireplace in the study. I enter Professor Snape’s bedroom through the floo, once again on my knees. He is waiting for me, naked, in the stiff armchair facing the fireplace. His eyes narrow and his thin lips turn into a frown. "About time you decided to reappear," he says while lazily stroking his cock. I sigh and crawl over to take my place; kneeling in front of him and his erection.

As I trudge slowly back to my dormitories, later that night, I thank my lucky stars that Professor Snape had taken pity on me and only forced me to bequeath him a blow job. I cringe in pain with every step I take and think about how my pain will be magnified in the morning. I rub my sore jaw and breathe through my nose deeply. I know that the wounds on my back, ass and legs are already started to heal, but the scars, physically and emotionally, will be there for eternity. I find myself asking myself why again as I push through the portrait door and limp painfully up the stairs. Once again I find no answer as to why I inflict myself with so much torture. I ease into my bed quietly as to not to disturb my dorm mates. After closing the curtains, I put a silencing spell around my bed to drown out the cries of pain I will surely make while I sleep. I wince again pulling the covers over my legs and try, unsuccessfully, to drift off to a much needed sleep. The punishment for losing Lucius’ game will last throughout the weekend, no doubt.

The End.

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