Fic: Finding Himself
May. 27th, 2014 06:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alisanneTitle: Finding Himself
Author:alisanne
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Percy Weasley/??
Summary: Percy knows where to go when he needs to be punished.
Word Count: 965
Genre: Erotica, D/s.
Warnings: Spanking, CBT, double penetration.
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hp_may_madness's 2014 fest.
Day twenty seven prompt(s) used: Fog, Belt.
Kink: Spanking.
This 'pairing' was suggested by![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-userinfo.gif)
emynn, so you can blame her. ;)
Betas:sevfan and emynn.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Finding Himself
~
Opening the door, Percy enters the room, dipping his head when he sees the cowled figures all gathered there. No one speaks, but one figure, the central one, gestures him forward.
Percy advances, being careful not to look at anyone directly. When he’s in the centre of the room, he stops, keeping his head bent as he waits for further instructions.
“Strip.”
The words seem to come from nowhere and everywhere.
Having expected it, Percy obeys, removing his prefect’s robes, shirt, trousers and pants. He folds them neatly and sets them on the floor.
“Kneel.”
This is also expected, and Percy wonders if he was somehow unclear in his request. Nevertheless, he does it, wincing slightly as his knees hit the cold stone floor.
“Down.”
Percy blinks. This is new. But then, this infraction is bigger than all the rest have been, so perhaps it warrants a harsher punishment. It is, after all, what he deserves. Trembling slightly, he leans forward on his elbows, his arse up in the air. He knows he must make quite a sight, but that is no small part of why he does this.
A booted foot pushes his legs apart and before he can react, straps come up from the floor, circling his wrist, securing him to the floor.
“Accept your punishment.”
Percy closes his eyes. This is why he’s here. He deserves punishment, not only for allowing three Gryffindor students under his charge to be hurt, but for allowing Sirius Black to hurt his baby brother, to put him in the infirmary.
His parents keep telling him it’s not his fault, but they’re wrong. It is my fault. I’m Head Boy. I’m supposed to keep the kids safe--
The first smack is a shock, as always. Heat blooms on Percy’s arse. He bites his lower lip and shifts, raising his arse in a mute appeal for more.
He quickly loses count of the smacks, the pain spreading from his arse to his upper thighs as the paddling continues. At times there are two or three paddles on him at once, he imagines they coordinate it to cause maximum coverage.
When he’s sobbing silently, his breaths escaping in pants, they abruptly stop. But they aren’t done. Percy hears the unmistakable sound of a belt being swung in the air and he tenses.
The thwack of the belt on his flesh is pure pain. It sizzles up his spine, making him shudder with the effort of controlling his cries. There’s no pause in the hits, just constant contact, always in a different place, sometime it grazes his balls, sometimes even landing on his hole, but Percy takes it because it’s what he deserves.
He imagines his arse is raw when the belting stops, and although he knows he’s probably not bleeding, it feels like he is, like he should be. And, as always at times like this, his cock is full, throbbing between his legs. But he doesn’t deserve to come, not yet.
Of course they know that. There is the sensation of coiled power that settles over him. It coalesces like a fog around the base of his cock and balls, binding them. Percy moans, the first actual sound he has made since entering the room.
He hears a zipper, then two, then three, then several, and he swallows hard. Tears are streaming down his face, but it’s not enough. He’s not yet sorry enough.
Rough fingers push inside him, twisting, turning. When he’s barely stretched, they retreat, and something larger replaces them. When he’s entered he cries out, and a hand smacks his abused arse. “Take your punishment.”
Gulping back sobs, Percy does. He says nothing, allows nothing to escape his throat as he’s repeatedly taken. It gets easier after the first, since once one has come inside him, it eases the way for the rest. Although, when two take him at once, it hurts.
Percy relishes the pain, however. He deserves it. This is his punishment.
He loses track of how many take him, how many come in and on him. He’s filthy by the end, filled with and covered in come and yet empty. Used.
When his arse feels like it can’t take any more, like he’s been turned inside out, it’s only then that the binding on his cock is released. He has only a moment to savour the sensation until something is shoved inside him. It’s the handle of a paddle.
Percy howls as his orgasm rushes through him, as he convulses, emptying himself in thick spurts onto the floor.
When he’s done he feels light headed, dizzy, pure. He knows he’s filthy and yet, he feels scrubbed clean. New.
The bindings slide away, hands lift him up, carry him, and he knows no more for a time.
When he wakes, Percy is on a bed. The room is empty. He shifts onto his back, wincing as pain lances through him. Beside him on a table is Pain Potion. He ignores it. This is his punishment, he has to feel it.
At the foot of the bed are his folded clothes. He puts them on slowly, the rub of cloth on his abused flesh isn’t pleasant, but this, too, is penance.
After catching his breath, Percy starts for the door. It’s time to visit Ron in the infirmary, to apologise for letting him get hurt. He pauses at the door before leaving, however. “Thank you,” he whispers.
There is no reply, but he doesn’t need one.
Once outside, he rubs his face and sighs. Behind him the door to the room is gone, but he knows he can find it again. He can always find it when he loses himself, when he needs to be punished.
~
Author:
alisanneRating: NC-17
Pairing: Percy Weasley/??
Summary: Percy knows where to go when he needs to be punished.
Word Count: 965
Genre: Erotica, D/s.
Warnings: Spanking, CBT, double penetration.
A/N: Written for
hp_may_madness's 2014 fest. Day twenty seven prompt(s) used: Fog, Belt.
Kink: Spanking.
This 'pairing' was suggested by
emynn, so you can blame her. ;)Betas:
sevfan and emynn. Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Finding Himself
~
Opening the door, Percy enters the room, dipping his head when he sees the cowled figures all gathered there. No one speaks, but one figure, the central one, gestures him forward.
Percy advances, being careful not to look at anyone directly. When he’s in the centre of the room, he stops, keeping his head bent as he waits for further instructions.
“Strip.”
The words seem to come from nowhere and everywhere.
Having expected it, Percy obeys, removing his prefect’s robes, shirt, trousers and pants. He folds them neatly and sets them on the floor.
“Kneel.”
This is also expected, and Percy wonders if he was somehow unclear in his request. Nevertheless, he does it, wincing slightly as his knees hit the cold stone floor.
“Down.”
Percy blinks. This is new. But then, this infraction is bigger than all the rest have been, so perhaps it warrants a harsher punishment. It is, after all, what he deserves. Trembling slightly, he leans forward on his elbows, his arse up in the air. He knows he must make quite a sight, but that is no small part of why he does this.
A booted foot pushes his legs apart and before he can react, straps come up from the floor, circling his wrist, securing him to the floor.
“Accept your punishment.”
Percy closes his eyes. This is why he’s here. He deserves punishment, not only for allowing three Gryffindor students under his charge to be hurt, but for allowing Sirius Black to hurt his baby brother, to put him in the infirmary.
His parents keep telling him it’s not his fault, but they’re wrong. It is my fault. I’m Head Boy. I’m supposed to keep the kids safe--
The first smack is a shock, as always. Heat blooms on Percy’s arse. He bites his lower lip and shifts, raising his arse in a mute appeal for more.
He quickly loses count of the smacks, the pain spreading from his arse to his upper thighs as the paddling continues. At times there are two or three paddles on him at once, he imagines they coordinate it to cause maximum coverage.
When he’s sobbing silently, his breaths escaping in pants, they abruptly stop. But they aren’t done. Percy hears the unmistakable sound of a belt being swung in the air and he tenses.
The thwack of the belt on his flesh is pure pain. It sizzles up his spine, making him shudder with the effort of controlling his cries. There’s no pause in the hits, just constant contact, always in a different place, sometime it grazes his balls, sometimes even landing on his hole, but Percy takes it because it’s what he deserves.
He imagines his arse is raw when the belting stops, and although he knows he’s probably not bleeding, it feels like he is, like he should be. And, as always at times like this, his cock is full, throbbing between his legs. But he doesn’t deserve to come, not yet.
Of course they know that. There is the sensation of coiled power that settles over him. It coalesces like a fog around the base of his cock and balls, binding them. Percy moans, the first actual sound he has made since entering the room.
He hears a zipper, then two, then three, then several, and he swallows hard. Tears are streaming down his face, but it’s not enough. He’s not yet sorry enough.
Rough fingers push inside him, twisting, turning. When he’s barely stretched, they retreat, and something larger replaces them. When he’s entered he cries out, and a hand smacks his abused arse. “Take your punishment.”
Gulping back sobs, Percy does. He says nothing, allows nothing to escape his throat as he’s repeatedly taken. It gets easier after the first, since once one has come inside him, it eases the way for the rest. Although, when two take him at once, it hurts.
Percy relishes the pain, however. He deserves it. This is his punishment.
He loses track of how many take him, how many come in and on him. He’s filthy by the end, filled with and covered in come and yet empty. Used.
When his arse feels like it can’t take any more, like he’s been turned inside out, it’s only then that the binding on his cock is released. He has only a moment to savour the sensation until something is shoved inside him. It’s the handle of a paddle.
Percy howls as his orgasm rushes through him, as he convulses, emptying himself in thick spurts onto the floor.
When he’s done he feels light headed, dizzy, pure. He knows he’s filthy and yet, he feels scrubbed clean. New.
The bindings slide away, hands lift him up, carry him, and he knows no more for a time.
When he wakes, Percy is on a bed. The room is empty. He shifts onto his back, wincing as pain lances through him. Beside him on a table is Pain Potion. He ignores it. This is his punishment, he has to feel it.
At the foot of the bed are his folded clothes. He puts them on slowly, the rub of cloth on his abused flesh isn’t pleasant, but this, too, is penance.
After catching his breath, Percy starts for the door. It’s time to visit Ron in the infirmary, to apologise for letting him get hurt. He pauses at the door before leaving, however. “Thank you,” he whispers.
There is no reply, but he doesn’t need one.
Once outside, he rubs his face and sighs. Behind him the door to the room is gone, but he knows he can find it again. He can always find it when he loses himself, when he needs to be punished.
~
