Baby Draco

Note: This story is based around Infantilism. If you dont know what that is, find out before you continue to read - you may not like the idea of that particular sexual fetish. I admit, that it is forced (via a spell in this fiction), but it is still fun and you get the basic idea. Also, this is Incest - so, if you dont like it, dont read it!


Baby Draco


Lucius Malfoy hated it when his boy went off to school, growing into a man, independent and self reliant. The elder Malfoy had to get on with his life, and ignore that inkling itch that would never leave him if his son wasn’t home in the manor.

But when the holidays came and his only son was to return home from that mudblood-loving school, Lucius had trouble hiding in his excitement and ecstatic feeling that filled his body. Of course, no one ever saw these emotions, the broad smile that wouldn’t melt and the jittery movements that sometimes took over, as Lucius was a Malfoy. And as he had taught his son, Malfoy’s never showed any form of weakness to foes and allies alike.

Over to the side of the crowd, Lucius stood alone waiting for the express to pull up at platform 9 and ¾. It was the end of another school year and within the coming hour; his boy would be home at last.

A near deafening whistle, and thick blur smoke signalled the arrival of the train as it pulled up to its stationary position. Lucius stayed where he was as students upon students filed out of the narrow carriage doors to greet their own families. It took some time, but eventually Draco stepped out onto the platform in all of his immaculate glory. Blonde hair hanging neatly around his face with not one strand out of place. Deep green robes, cut to fit that fine frame slid perfectly around his quidditch trained body, and dragonhide boots spit-shined to reflect even the dullest of images.

While no one was looking, Lucius lips quirked into the briefest of smiles at the sight of his son before he purposefully walked up to meet the boy. Draco gave only the slightest nod of his head and greeted his father with a curt, “Hello, Father.”

“Hello, Draco,” was Lucius’ replied, then without another word they turned to walk through the barrier and to the front of King’s Cross station. Draco’s luggage, Lucius knew, hadn’t been forgotten, simply shrunken while his son was still allowed to use magic on the train, and was now hidden somewhere within those velvety forest green robes.

Outside, both father and son climbed into the muggle looking limousine that awaited them, ignoring all stares from those inferior. The driver did his job, opening and closing the door for the Malfoy senior and his heir, and proceeded to drive them back to the Malfoy estate.

Conversation was light, both Malfoy’s discussing what they had done while either at school of the Ministry. Lucius, admittedly, hardly payed any attention to what he was saying; or what was being said to him. His mind had wandered onto the delights of what were to come when they would finally be home. It would just be his son and himself, no Narcissa – the bimbo bitch, no ministry – request for a two month break to be with his only son accepted, and no school peers of Draco, not that his heir really knew much of that.

Not long after, the car pulled up to the entrance of the Malfoy ancestral home. Both blondes vacated the limousine and the driver was dismissed with a flick of the wrist from the elder. Once inside the grand interior of their home, Lucius addressed his son with an unrequited formality.

“Draco, you are to go up to your quarters and proceed to do any homework required of you set for the summer months. I expect it all done within this first week of holidays.”

Draco knew to expect that demand, it was only natural to hear something of the sort from his father as soon as they entered their domain.

“Yes, Father,” the younger Malfoy quickly replied before heading straight up to the eastern side of the manor where Draco’s rooms were.

Lucius dispatched some House elves to settle his son in, resize his trunk, and unpack his belongings after meeting all needs and requests his heir might have.

Once finished, Lucius retired to one of the closer parlours to have a drink, occupy himself with a magical one-sided game of chess, and wait until his son had met his responsibility required.

***

It turned out that Draco only took three days to complete all the homework set for him in potions, transfiguration, history of magic and astrology. Draco had walked in on Lucius, interrupting some writing he was doing to pass the time.

“I’m finished what you asked of me, Father,” Draco calmly announced as he walked around to one of the seats in front of his fathers desk. Lucius’ brows arched in a vague form of surprise that his son had been able to work through his tasks by the night of the third day.

“Excellent, my son.” Lucius graced his heir with a proud smile. “Now let me ask you a question...”

The elder Malfoy rose from his chair and walked over to the side table where he had set down his half empty snifter of whiskey.

“Can you remember what you did during your last set of holidays? Or, curiously, the ones before that?”

Lucius watched as Draco’s brows furrowed in confusion and thought. He watched his son as he tried to think back on nonexistent memories and come up empty as though the boy had never had the pleasure of the free time and bliss of the holidays. Lucius’ knew that the last Christmas his son would be able to remember would be the one he had in second year at Hogwarts; and that was only because he had had to stay at school for those holidays.

“No, Father. I don’t.”

Lucius hid his wide, knowing smile as he took another sip to finish his drink. Of course, there was a reason for his sons lose of memory, and it was the small price he had to pay for his fun.

“It’s ok, son. There is no need to fret. I honestly doubt that you will remember these holidays either.”

Draco’s expression became more confused then before. “But why, Father? I know I’ve had holidays, I just don’t recall what I did during those times. And why won’t I remember these ones?”

The elder Malfoy couldn’t help but revel in his son’s distinct horror and panic. The was a perfectly good reason why his son was so forgetful during these times of the year, and Lucius knew that his son would not want to remember what he got up to even if he could.

“There’s no need to worry,” Lucius mockingly cooed, “Maybe one day I will tell you, but for now I believe it is past you bedtime.”

Draco looked quizzically up to his father as the elder man held out his hand to his son, “Come,” was the one word spoken, and the boy did as he was told.

Questions buzzed around his head as the two walked up the flight of stairs, around a corner and over the bridge that looked down upon the ground floor of the manor. Lucius kept an encouraging hand on the small of his son’s back.

Why couldn’t Draco remember something that should be so easy to think of, and why had his father brought the question up in the first place?

“You’ve asked me that before, haven’t you Father.” It wasn’t a question, or an accusation, but a simple comment that Draco knew to be the truth.

“Yes, son,” there was no point in lying, Lucius knew, “And I feel I shall be asking you again, in the future.”

Younger grey eyes stared up to his father’s profile. Draco hated to admit it to himself, but this mystery and strange questions his father was asking was somewhat disconcerting.

There was a loud creak, and Draco startled as he noticed his father had started pushing open the door of his bedroom. He had hardly noticed the walk from his father’s office to his rooms with his spinning head.

It was almost in a daze that Draco followed his usual routine for bed. He found his pyjamas to get changed in the bathroom, cleaned his teeth and splashed water on his face that didn’t help in the least to clear his mind. Oh, how muddled it could get from his father asking such a simple and innocent question.

He emerged from the bathroom to notice that his father had turned down his bed ready for him and was sitting on the edge waiting to say goodnight.

Draco silently climbed into his smooth, black silk sheets, has favourite ones during the summer months, and rested his head on one of his soft, comfortable pillows.

A similarly soft and comfortable smile was directed at Draco from his fathers face. The latter knew that he wouldn’t get any answers tonight and it would just be best to drown out those milling questions with sleep.

“Goodnight Draco,” Lucius lent down to kiss his son on the forehead, “Never you worry about what we discussed tonight. I will tell you everything in the morning.”

Strangely from that one simple comment, Draco felt a whole lot better and much calmer. His father would tell him in time, and time was what they had.

Lucius lovingly tucked the sheets around his son as he watched the young face settle and become less tense as if he were forgetting something that he should fear. Lucius knew that, though he wouldn’t be explaining to his son what had been happening over the school holidays, those few word were a comfort and trust that would help Draco sleep through the night.

Draco gave his father one last, tiny smile and rolled over to fall asleep.

Once Draco’s back had turned, Lucius silently pulled out his wand from the folds of his robe, and whispered the all-powerful spell. All he had to do now was wait for it to weave its magic through Draco’s mind and by tomorrow morning his baby boy would be back.

***

Lucius had admitted to himself a few holidays back that this had become an addiction. But then again, if what he did was kept within the walls of the manor then no harm could befall him. Somewhere in the back of Lucius’ mind he knew that cursing his son for his own pleasure was despicable and ethically wrong. Though Lucius also knew that his conscience was easily drowned with the much more pleasurable image of his own heir on all fours.

His cock twitched, and his smile grew.

Excitement bubbled within Lucius as he closed his eyes and pictured how his son would be within the coming hours. He knew for fact that the House elves had set up Draco’s other room for the duration of the holidays. It was, after all, the room connecting to Lucius’ own. The crib was set up with the necessary equipment of bottles, nappies and appropriate toys, walls painted in the softest baby blue with silhouettes of darker blue dragons lining the edging.

For that was Lucius’ dark little secret; to turn his son into his baby boy whom he loved so dear and found that when his son had grown up so fast wanted the dependency and total adoration that he saw only from his son in his helpless form.

Of course, magic could only do so much. The spell he had discovered a few years ago would only transform his son’s mind back to that of an eleven month old child, while his teenage body stayed the same. Apparently the spell had been developed for those to cast the curse on their foes so the minds of their enemies would turn to an uneducated state proving to be a threat no more. But, nevertheless, it served Lucius’ need spectacularly.

Lucius ignored his growing erection as he stepped through the adjoining door from his own bedroom to the nursery. It was perfect. Cosy and quaint, no evidence at all that the child who would be sleeping here was, in fact, a grown boy.

Lucius yawned and with one last longing look at the room, he shut the door and went to bed.

***

Lucius was awoken the next morning by a loud wail coming from down on of the hallways within the manor. A smile grew on his face at the realisation that his son had woken up. The House elves had been ordered not to go anywhere near his son’s room and they, obviously, were obeying their master’s wishes.

So Lucius rose from bed and took his time to get dressed as his listened to his son tire himself out with his crying, but then again, who wouldn’t cry if you couldn’t walk or tend to yourself. The elder Malfoy slipped on his shoes and left towards the direction of his son’s bedroom.

When he opened the door his line of vision went directly to his heir on the bed. His poor boys face was red, scrunched up and mouth open wide. Lucius walked up to his baby and sat down next to the distressed child. From the movement of the mattress that rosy red face turned to him and pale grey eyes slightly opened. Upon some form of recognition from the eleven-month-old mind, the sight of someone who would provide some assistance caused Draco to burst out crying even harder.

Lucius instantly went into father-mode.

“Shh, it’s alright precious. Daddy is here now.”

Mmm, Daddy. How he preferred that name so much more to Father.

Lucius leaned over to pick his son up and nurse him after a hastily muttered Lightweight charm. Once his baby was settled in his arms he pulled out his wand and banished away Draco’s pyjamas. Then, with another quick flick or two, Lucius conjured a nappy and pacifier for his little one.

The attention provided some comfort and Draco calmed down, looking up to his father with huge wet eyes. He seemed content with the dummy occupying his mouth and sucked on it as if it would give him what he needed.

Lucius stood up and Draco clung to his robe with his fingers. Legs wrapped around his waist and they left the bedroom. Before leaving Draco’s quarters, Lucius branched his wand again to lock the doors for the duration of the holidays.

A few whimpers escaped the boy as Lucius carried him down the stairs to one of the smaller dining rooms that they were to have breakfast in. The House elves had set up a highchair for Draco next to his own chair and he slipped his baby in. Draco looked around the high ceiling room with wide innocent eyes as if he’d never seen the place before.

House elves served up Lucius’ breakfast and then Draco’s, providing him with a spoon designed for those with poor fine motor skills. Meals, Lucius mused, would once again be a messy affair for the next two months, but Lucius smiled at that thought, looking forward to the bad and the good.

Lucius watched as Draco did his best to get the mushy food into his mouth, spilling more down his bare chest then what happened to make it to his lips. The elder Malfoy could see his little one was getting frustrated and as a result, began to flick the goo over the edge onto the floor.

Draco got a few more spoonfuls out before Lucius turned on him.

“Draco, NO! Naughty Boy! You do not throw food onto the floor.” Lucius watched as Draco’s bottom lip pouted out, then his chin started to tremble and tears leaked out of those grey eyes.

Lucius stood up and removed Draco from the highchair, setting him down on the floor. There was some sadistic pleasure that Lucius got from punishing his son. As Draco had chosen to throw away his food, it was taken away from him. And the elder Malfoy just knew that soon the time would come where spankings were involved.

When Draco had been a true baby, he had certainly been treated differently, always getting what he wanted, never scolded and never punished. And during those days where Lucius, himself, had also been younger, making his way up the ministry hierarchy, there had been little time to spend with his only child, leaving the work totally up to his boy’s nanny.

Thus, Lucius knew, was one of the many reasons why he did this to his son, force him to take on the mind of a baby without his consent.

Draco looked up at his father, tears still trickling down his cheeks, knowing, at the tone of voice, that he was in trouble.

Just for a moment, Lucius stood tall, glaring down at Draco with intimidation that would cower even the bravest of men. His heir seemed to shrink in one himself, not letting his watery eyes leave his father.

Lucius sat back down to finish off the reminder of his breakfast, ultimately ignoring his boy as he brought his own food casually up to his mouth.

When Lucius finally finished his meal, he returned his attention to the floor where he had sat Draco. Not surprisingly his little one had gotten up and crawled off somewhere, but since the doors to the dining room were closed, Lucius didn’t worry himself. He found Draco sitting in no particular spot in the middle of the bare floor, sucking his left thumb as a result of nothing else to do. Without any sort of explanation, Lucius pulled the offending finger out of his son’s mouth, picked him up and left the room.

Lucius could hear little sniffling noises as his son rested his head on his father’s shoulder. It was obvious to Lucius that his actions, voice and posture were reflecting on his son’s emotions and were affecting him, causing him distress. But, really, what fun ever came out of treating a child correctly when the body of said child could handle the mild abuse?

Lucius knew that cooing and petting his son was much more boring then disciplining and punishing him.

During past holidays, Lucius had taken the time to find what he enjoyed the most; after all, this was all about his own pleasure. He had found that when he did coddle his son the boy became somewhat greedy and disrespectful of the man who was giving him such sweet attention. Clearly this was the attitude and behaviour that Draco would have shown when he was a true babe, thus, Lucius assured himself, was a good reason to treat his son the way he did now.

Upon making it to his study, Lucius saw that the House elves had set up the large playpen, just as he had ordered. He settled Draco in it and put the pacifier back into his mouth. There were no toys in the enclosure and Lucius didn’t want to be any in there. It was much more enjoyable to watch as he walked away, his son crawl along, focusing solely on his father and have no choice but to stop when one of the short walls blocked his path. Lucius openly smiled and sat down at his desk to do some more of that writing Draco had interrupted him from last night.

Lucius surprised himself by becoming so utterly immersed in his work, even with the distraction across from him. When he finally finished he leisurely got up from his desk and walked over to the playpen. In the centre of the enclosure, Draco seemed to have curled up on himself and had fallen asleep. Lucius didn’t find this behaviour surprising in the least. Even apart from the nature of an eleven month old to have naps, the pacifier had been charmed so it couldn’t be spat out. And, as a result, if Draco had tried to cry or bring some sort of attention to himself, he would only had exhausted himself and received no attention at all.

Leaning over the edge of the pen, Lucius roughly picked his son up, waking him in the process. Bloodshot eyes slitted open and looked up to his father. The few little whimpers went straight to Lucius’ groin as he carried his son up to the nursery he would be staying in until the end of the holidays. The walk from office to bedroom didn’t take long and Lucius contented himself with slowly running his thumb up and down one of his son’s thighs on the short trip there.

Entering the baby blue room, Lucius placed Draco down on the change table and with a wave of his wand the powder, baby whips and clean nappy all came alive to change the little one. Lucius only ever went so far when it came to menial matters and things that smelt really bad!

When his baby was finally clean, Lucius picked him up again and charmed the dummy away from his mouth. As expected, after a few seconds, the room was full with loud, ear piercing wails. Lucius couldn’t keep the smirk off his face. This morning at breakfast Draco had hardly eaten two spoonfuls of his unidentifiable mass of food. His baby was probably starving.

Lucius clicked his fingers and a House Elf popped into the room holding a warmed bottle of milk on a silver tray. Lucius took it and the little creature vanished away. During that few second interlude, Draco had calmed down slightly, the prospect of food promising. But Lucius wasn’t going to make it that easy.

He positioned the tip of the teat on the middle of Draco’s bottom lip. Instinctively his boy moved his head to suck it into his mouth, but Lucius moved it away before he had the chance. Draco whined and looked wearily up to his father. Lucius graced his son with an evil smile. He repeated this action a number of times until Draco was squirming in his lap with frustration.

Not through with the torment, Lucius placed the bottle down and placed the tip of his finger between his little pink lips. Immediately, as if it were what Draco so desperately wanted, his baby began sucking the digit with a vengeance. The sensations travelled directly from Lucius’ hand right to his cock, hardening towards the nappy-clad bottom of his son. To Lucius’ pleasure it took Draco some time to realise that he wasn’t gaining anything from the suction he was putting on the finger, but when he did Draco shook his head to the side trying to remove the foodless object. But Lucius remain persistent.

With the rest of his hand, Lucius gripped Draco’s face almost painfully, and forced his finger further down the hot throat. Draco whimpered and began to thrash around as much as his weak limbs and body would allow. The continual sucking had ceased, but Lucius swam in the similar feeling of that tongue fluttering against his skin, trying to expel the intrusion.

Lucius held this for long moments, never relenting, until Draco finally gave up the fight and just allowed the digit to plunder the opening.

Eventually Lucius took pity on his child and removed his finger. He picked up the cooling bottle of milk and positioned it back against Draco’s lips. For some short moments Draco warily didn’t move but soon his hunger kicked in and turned into the teat. Draco started sucking contentedly at the food source and Lucius stared down to the little mouth move so beautifully imagining how it would be if it were suckling at his cock.

Before the milk had been finished, Lucius found that he couldn’t wait any longer and wrenched the bottle free of his son’s mouth. When Draco realised what had happened the wailing started up again, but Lucius payed it no heed. Instead he got up, hoisted his baby roughly over his shoulder and moved through the nursery and towards his own bedroom.

Lucius revelled in the confusion and distress that was written so clearly over his son’s features before he pulled out his wand and with a quick flick banished his clothing.

Leaving his son where he was, prone on the huge bed to avoid an unfortunate smothering incidents, Lucius straddled Draco's head and brushed the tip of his leaking cock over those luscious, pink quivering lips. Not waiting a moment longer, Lucius plunged his cock into the innocent wet heat and melted into the sucking sensation engulfing his flesh. Lucius looked down to see the slightly cross-eyed grey eyes filled with utter confusion and distress.

Lucius took his time plundering he vulnerable son, keeping the place slow not only to prolong his tortuous pleasure, but also not to hurt his son to any sort of extreme extent.

After timeless moments Lucius spilled his seed in Draco's unsuspecting mouth and gently removed his sated cock. A few scarce tears were present in the corners of those two precious grey eyes, but, as if scared of possible repercussions, Draco didn’t resume his crying; only keeping his sight glued on his shifting father.

Lucius repositioned himself so he was lying directly beside his son and began to pet the flat quivering belly. The only noises that could be heard in the extensive room were slight sniffles and whimpers coming from the little one and Lucius’ ragged breathing calming down.

The two Malfoy’s laid together for a little while until Lucius decided it was time to get up. He was sure Draco would still be hungry, not having finished that one bottle of milk, and carried him back through he door to the nursery. Lucius settled himself back into the rocking chair, snapped his fingers and took the fresh bottle of milk off the awaiting House Elf.

Bringing the bottle to his son’s lips, Lucius smiled at the fear and desperation looking up at him. It seemed that even the young mind of his son was able to recall the events following the previous bottle of milk not too long before and make the connection. This time Draco was wary in receiving the food, but now that Lucius was temporarily sated, he had no intentions of tormenting his son again so soon.

Draco greedily drank down the milk and soon began to drift to sleep in his fathers lap. Lucius was getting tired too, so he spelled another diaper onto his baby, settled him into the crib, covered him up with a soft green blanket, and retired to his own room to sleep.

***

Once again Lucius was awoken by the wailing of his baby, only this time is was louder with him being in the next room. It was about eight in the morning, so Lucius decided that was time to get up dressing at his usual pace and walking into the next room that house his sweet darling.

Lucius smiled at the pleasant thought of this being his routine for the next two months. Oh, how he would enjoy this time... and enjoy his son.

The distressed form of Draco in his cot came into view, and Lucius graced him with another of his sinister smirks.

If only the Malfoy heir knew what was coming next...

The End