Notes: Draco POV, dark angst, light BDSM

Inspired by The Smiths ‘The Headmaster Ritual’


Chain

By spheeris1

       

{I want to teach you something

That I learned to do and

You’ll know it well once you and I are through}

It was like stalking prey. Watching. Waiting. A look followed by knowing eyes, knowing smiles, knowing thoughts. But you didn’t know, not really.

You had no clue what I was going to do you.

But I knew all too well. Self-taught and proud. Hidden talents and desires. I found this trick to deal with pain and anger. I can show it to you….wanna see?

Once you catch them, keep them with power. My father taught me that. He held my strings for so long and made me play to his tune.

Song and dance, Draco the marionette. And I moved with fated steps. Till I snapped the thread.

       

I want to throw my rope around you.

To tighten it so slowly. You won’t notice, I promise. I’ll listen to your breathing hitch.

I’ll watch red lips turn gray.

I’ll see your eyes darken. You pull. I pull. And fucking hell, can you feel it?

Pouring over my body, washing over me…..I’m shaking.

Woven coils burn my hands but I hold steady. Fire in my palms.

You are almost there. And I am almost there.

I watch you watching me. Wondering why you do this, night after night.

Don’t think, just do. Just do what I want you to.

       

Sometimes you run away. I will not chase you.

You always come back. Dog to heel.

But needs must be met. Only you and I know how to conquer them. One by one.

I smoke outside, in cold night air. My body feels numb with winter chill.

The tip of my cigarette is a beacon. Burning beacon of salvation, pressed hard onto my neck.

And I smell tobacco and flesh.

A demented hickey, kissed by charred lips. I am my own lover.

       

You think it’s malice. But that is the fuel. Not the inferno.

I burn from within. This is my own desire. Not created by any other hands but my own.

Any emotion becomes this. This is what I live for.

To push you down. To remove your clothes. To watch purple bloom on your chest.

Always you question me. Question yourself, wonder boy.

You have your say before you step through my doors. Once inside, your decision is made.

‘You’re insane….’ echoes in my chamber. Yet you say it when I am inside you.

Making you bleed. Making you scream.

And my pulse pounds. Thundering drums of ecstasy. Each agony causes a tremor in my moving body.

Deeper I go, tighter you hold. Harder I go, louder you shout.

Till the edge is so near. And I refrain from falling. Sweet torture……

Can you taste it? On our bodies, the sweat and blood.

The taste of your first lesson, Potter.

END


Return to Archive | sequel