Enslaved

It's been a long time since I updated any of my stories. I'm back now if anyone is still reading this lol.
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Even Now

Sitting on his bed munching absently on a chocolate bar, Harry was deep in thought. He wasn’t thinking about Ron and how he was feeling today, he wasn’t wondering what Voldemort was up to or when Hermione was going to be friendly towards him again. Harry was busy plotting away to break Pansy Parkinson.

Now that she had issued the challenge of wills to him, Harry had to find a way to punish her, to turn her on and make her beg for his cock inside her. She had enjoyed the whipping he had given her which had surprised him as much as the intense arousal the act had caused in him.

Licking his lips and grinning wickedly, Harry transfigured the same ruler into a whip as he wondered how far he could push Pansy. Harry knew he could actually do anything he wanted to do to her, but there were some images that were dancing about in his mind that he wouldn’t feel comfortable executing if she wasn’t happy with it.

Harry moved the small mirror from on top of the chest of draws, attaching it to the wall and enlarging it so it was full length. Next he took his Griffyndor tie from inside the wardrobe and lengthened it, a snigger escaping him when he thought how much Pansy would hate to wear a Gryffindor tie.

“Pansy! Get in here!” he yelled, banging on the wall with his fist to summon her. He had refused to allow her to return to The Burrow tonight, he had wanted her close to him.

The door opened and Pansy entered the room, a towel wrapped around her and spots of water glistening on her bare shoulder, the wet ends of her hair curling around her neck. “You have great timing, Potter, I’ll give you that. What do you want?”

“You took a shower without me?” Harry accused.

“You’ve only ever showered with me once,” Pansy pointed out, a small frown creasing her forehead at the aggrieved look on his face.

“So? From now on you don’t shower without me,” Harry told her firmly.

Pansy sighed softly, “Fine. What am I supposed to do when you aren’t here though?”

“You’ll just have to shower alone and bear my absence as bravely as possible,” Harry replied grinning.

Pansy rolled her eyes, “You’re such an idiot, Potter,”

“Insulting me are you?” Harry asked, folding his arms across his chest. “You know how I deal with that kind of thing. Get rid of that towel and stand right there,” Harry pointed with his finger to a spot before the mirror.

Pansy did as she was bidden, automatically sweeping her hair around her shoulders as she examined her reflection. She jumped when she felt the gentle touch of Harry’s fingers against her skin. Lifting her eyes Pansy watched Harry’s reflection as he silently examined the red marks on her ass.

“Do they hurt?”

“Only if you poke them,” she said.

“They haven’t been bleeding,” Harry told her quietly, “They’re only marks,”

“Well, that makes it ok then, doesn’t it?” Pansy replied snidely.

A guilty red flush swept up Harry’s neck, but he didn’t respond. In the harsh light of reality, when he wasn’t riding along on his own power, Harry squirmed at the knowledge that he had marked Pansy in such a way. At the time it had seemed very unimportant, the arousing power surging through his veins had blocked out everything else expect that particular moment when he was wielding the whip across her bare, creamy skin.

An apology rose to his lip, but Harry pushed the feeling back, he could show Pansy that he was sorry without having to say the words. Without speaking, Harry lifted Pansy’s arms, bending them at the elbows and lacing her fingers together behind her head. Retrieving his tie from the bed, Harry proceeded to bind her wrists together, his brow furrowed in concentration as he made sure not to bind her too tightly and have the material cut into her skin. Next he lengthened the tie some more and used magic to pin the ends to the ceiling, ensuring the length was nice and taunt, thereby restricting Pansy’s movements completely.

Pansy watched Harry with suspicion as he worked diligently to secure her in place. She hated to admit it even to herself, but the excitement was beginning to build inside her as she wondered what he was going to do. There was still a flicker of fright in her system that Harry would get carried away and seriously hurt her, but she had the feeling that he would stop if she really needed him to.

Harry picked up the newly transfigured whip and tested the weight of it in the palm of his hand to make sure he was completely satisfied with it.

“Now,” he said, looking at her in the mirror. “I believe you were insulting me.”

“You deserved it,” Pansy shot back immediately, mortified at she felt her nipples harden in anticipation.

“Naughty little slave,” Harry scolded. Raising his whip he brought it down across Pansy ass.

She gave a small cry, her body jerking slightly at the contact. Inside she cursed herself for making any sound at all, but he had taken her off guard with the first stroke. Hopefully she could prepare herself for the next one. The next sting hit her just across the tail bone and Pansy bit her lip to stop the cry escaping her, the second one had been harder than the first. Again, Harry cracked the whip against her skin and moaned softly, the domination was an incredible turn on. For someone who had rarely been in control of anything that happened to him, Harry relished these moments with Pansy, when he had her completely at his mercy.

“Are you watching, Parkinson?” Harry asked, trailing the whip along her hip and down her legs.

“Yes.” Pansy hissed through grit teeth.

Harry grinned. “Good.” Carefully he unzipped his trousers allowing his hard cock to spring free. Absently he stroked himself as he watched Pansy’s face turned red with annoyance. “Do you enjoy seeing yourself all tied up and being whipped?”

“Oh yes,” Pansy purred, her eyes fluttering to his in the mirror. “Very much, Master.”

Harry snorted, if Pansy Parkinson was enjoying this he would fuck Umbridge! “Oh good. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Let’s see if I can increase the pleasure.”

Without warning, Harry brought the whip down hard across the soft swelling of her breasts. Pansy cried out in pain, tears stinging her eyes.

Harry groaned, the red welts across the pale skin were, really turning him on. He stroked himself harder, his balls tightening pleasurably. He continually brought the whip down on Pansy’s body, always being sure to vary his strokes so that she didn’t know where to expect them.

Again the whip came down, the tip catching her nipple painfully and she jerked violently in her confines with a loud cry of pain.

Harry noticed her glistening eyes and promptly dropped the whip, these were more than tears of humiliation and he didn’t really want to hurt Pansy. Harry had no problem with humiliating her though, he’d done that enough not to worry about it now.

He smirked, moving to stand behind her and wiggling his trousers down over his hips. Biting her collar bone lightly he hissed in her ear, “How would you like me to fuck you now, Parkinson? When your all tied up? Would you like to watch it?”

Pansy’s mind screamed no. She did not want to watch Harry Potter using her body like this, but she also knew she had now choice. How she longed to be in the position to tell him that she did want him to fuck her, just not like this. Pansy however kept silent. He would only think of something more humiliating to do to her if she argued with him.

Harry’s hand cupped her breast gently, the skin was red and inflamed and he didn’t want to cause her any more pain. “You’ll enjoy it, you always do,” he told her, kneading the large globe that sat in his palm, his finger tweaking her nipple.

Pansy winced and tried to keep her mind on something else. It wouldn’t do to allow Potter to turn her on. She jumped slightly when she felt the whip between her legs, Harry was gently rubbing it between her folds, back and forth in a slow, deliberate movement as is fingers continued to toy with her nipple and his green eyes, dark with sexual heat, watched her in the mirror.

His hand dropped from her breast to lay flat on her stomach, holding her in place as he began to prod his swollen cock between her ass. Easing himself in, Harry had to drop the whip, there wasn’t enough space between their bodies.

Pansy moaned as Harry pushed his way into her body, his hand dropping down even further to cup her between her legs. Her face flushed red, when he groaned in her ear, “So wet, Pansy!”

She moaned again when Harry’s fingers spread her lips apart and sank inside her. Pansy’s head fell back to rest on his shoulder, attempting to arch her back a bit to encourage him in deeper. A low groan left the back of her throat when Harry seemed to read her signal and thrust into her with a hard stroke.

It drove Harry wild that Pansy could do nothing but stand there, strapped to the ceiling and completely his to touch as he pleased. His fingers worked quickly, thrusting into her, twisting, turning, slipping through the wetness that was now smeared against her inner thigh.

Releasing his hold on her, Harry turned and looked madly around for his wand, he couldn’t fuck her properly in this position. Finally locating it on this bed, Harry had to slip out of Pansy completely to retrieve it. Once he had hold of his wand, Harry wasted to time in loosening her binds, carefully he moved Pansy’s body forward a bit, not so much that she was bent over at the waist, but enough that her ass was sticking up nicely, then he re-tightened the tie.

Her hands still linked being her head, Pansy watched the proceedings in the mirror, angst at what she saw. She knew what Potter was up to and she didn’t like the idea at all. She felt the familiar wet warmth at the crack of her ass and Harry’s hands firmly on her hips.

“Now watch!” Harry instructed.

Obediently Pansy lifted her head, it wasn’t as if she had any other choice in the matter. She gasped when Harry entered her with a long, powerful thrust.

Harry groaned, holding onto her hips tightly, he planted his feet comfortably apart and began to move. In and out of the deep warmth of Pansy’s ass he pounded with a hard controlled rhythm. He loved how tight she was around him, how her muscles squeezed him now and again on re-entry and how those glorious breasts bounced around so freely with each thrust.

Pansy could see how much Harry was enjoying himself, his green eyes were deep and dark, perspiration stood out along his hairline and he watched her intently in the mirror. She hated the feeling of her breasts jangling wildly with each violent thrust, as Harry continued to penetrate deep inside her with loud guttural moans. She hated that she was powerless to do anything to him with her hands tied. She hated that she was in this humiliating position, forced to watch Harry doing this to her, but most of all Pansy hated Harry Potter, because even now, even during this act of humiliation, she was drenched between her legs and with a loud cry of pleasure, Pansy came hard, her juices trickling down her inner thigh.

Her mortification was complete.