Author: Aspen (email@example.com)
Warnings: slash, graphic sex, cross-dressing, incest references, shotakon (chanslash), spanking, rimming
Notes: This is by far the most unusual fic I've ever written. It's my first time writing spanking and rimming, and it's definitely the first time all these warnings have appeared at the top of one solitary fic. These are my tentative, sensitive toes stepping into new territory... step on them, and I will whack you through the atmosphere with Mallet-Sama(TM).
Dedication: To the one and only E-ko, my muse, partner in bed -- er... crime, and the original instigator of daisychain!Draco. Thank you for the inspiration!! Love ya bunches! *squelch*
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns 'em; I just own their leashes.
Extra Warning: If you are uncomfortable with shotakon (aka chanslash), or you don't know what that is, and extremely, insanely graphic and kinky sex, at that, please save us both the grief and run far, far away, hopefully never to return. I'll send a fruit basket composed entirely out of lemons for Christmas.
*...* denotes emphasis
The boy looked up from where he was threading one stalky green stem through the other to see Harry standing there with his hands on his hips, face appalled.
The figure in the sweater vest, slacks, and tie took in the scene: flowers were spread out upon Draco's pinafore, lacing out everywhere in full bloom, and grey eyes were peering up at him curiously.
"You'd better come with me," Harry said firmly, reaching down and grasping Draco's tiny elbow, pulling him from the thatch of clover. "You're so naughty, dirtying up your Sunday dress!"
But Draco, with his crown of flowers tilting precociously over one ear, grinned defiantly.
"But I was only making daisy chains!"
The wreaths and long strands of hooked-together flowers hanging from Draco's little fist were innocent enough, but Harry knew better than to fold to Draco's adorable protests. He quickly dragged Draco, who was tripping in his tiny, shiny black patent Mary Janes behind him, around the side of the house, where no passerbys could see.
"Now, Draco," he said firmly, backing the tiny boy by the shoulders up against the wall and looking down at him sharply. "I told you not to play in your nice clothes, and you broke my rule."
Draco looked abashed, blushing prettily. "I didn't mean to, Daddy, really."
"That doesn't matter, Draco. You broke the rule, and now you have to be punished."
The clear silver eyes staring widely up at him filled with sparkling tears. "A spanking?"
Harry nodded, frowning. "You're a very naughty little boy, and you need a thorough spanking." Draco nervously toyed with the lacy hem of his pink Sunday dress, crossing his lacy-socked ankles in nervous anticipation. "But I won't use the belt," he sighed, not completely immune to Draco's angelically sad expression.
"I deserve it, Daddy. I was bad!" Draco shook his head, fine strands of white-blond hair with flowers caught in them, the crown balanced crooked on the tiny pigtails that were swept up with pink ribbons to match the dress.
"Yes, I know you were." Harry looked at Draco disapprovingly.
"But you *don't* know!!" Draco looked up at Harry, who was standing with a thoroughly parental look on his face, arms crossed.
"I don't?" he questioned sternly. "You'd better tell me, then."
"I'm so bad, Daddy," breathed Draco, flushing with his confession. "I... I..."
"What, Draco?" Harry's hands transferred to his hips.
"I let Oliver..."
At the mention of their neighbor boy's name, Harry jerked to new attention.
"What did you let Oliver do, Draco?"
Draco raised his arms, and Harry helped him scramble up into them, the small boy wrapping his bare legs around Harry's middle and hugging his neck.
In a secretive, warm whisper right in his ear, the child revealed, "I let Oliver look up my dress."
Harry felt a surge of savage protectiveness. "That... that pervert! I'll rip his eyes out! Draco!!" he admonished belatedly. "Why on earth did you do that?"
Draco leaned back and looked at Harry with a mixture of naive importance and silliness. "Because he let me look in his trousers, Daddy."
Harry set Draco down none too lightly, and the boy went straight down onto his bottom, squealing. "That was *very* bad of you! You know I have to spank you more for that, don't you?"
Draco, who had gotten up and was straightening his dress fussily, nodded glumly, then made a face of resolve. "But I deserve it, don't I, Daddy?"
"Yes, you do." Harry spotted an unused lawn chair a few feet away and dragged it over purposefully, then sat in it and looked at Draco. "Bend over my knee, now."
Draco dropped his daisy chains and shot Harry a nervous look before laying himself delicately over Harry's lap. The sash on his dress was still tied in its neat bow, and the full skirt, pulled up from his body's position, licked at the very highest reach of his thighs. His ankles were, again, crossed, knees bent in an unfeminine crook so his bottom was at just the right angle.
Sighing, Harry pulled up the skirt, leaving it in a heap of material on Draco's back, revealing the slender pale back and round little bottom bedecked in cream-coloured, old-fashioned panties, the back of which was decorated in frilly rows of silky lace. Harry reached forward and ran a gentle hand over the tickling little frills, and he knew Draco could feel the light touch, for the boy was wiggling in his lap.
"Hold still," he commanded Draco, who stilled upon him immediately. "These are pretty little knickers, Draco. Do you like them?"
"Yes, Daddy... they're my favourite pair," murmured Draco.
"Then I'll take them off so we won't ruin them."
Draco's hips moved minutely to help Harry in sliding the frilly panties down around his thighs, where they slid in a fall of silk to his ankles, and he stepped out of them so Harry could pick them up and tuck them into his sweater vest for safe keeping. Now, Draco's bare little bottom was exposed to the afternoon breeze, and again, the little boy was wiggling in anticipation.
Starting in the small of his back, Harry ran an index finger down the valley between Draco's cheeks, then smoothed a Quidditch-roughened hand over the buttocks. Draco was panting against Harry's thigh.
"Hold still, Draco."
With only that as a warning, Harry picked up his hand... and brought it right back down, in a quick and smart smack upon the white skin of Draco's ass.
Draco winced and yelped, and Harry laid a soothing hand over the sensitized flesh, waiting a moment for the smarting sting to die away. With Draco, the first spanking was always a shock, and Harry remained sensitive to this. However, when Draco's audible breathing normalized in pace once again, Harry delivered another sharp spanking.
"Oh!" Draco's eyes squeezed shut, crystal tears clinging to his eyelashes.
Harry waited a brief moment before starting a sequence of merciless, smarting spanks, watching the abused cheeks turn pretty pink, then burning red. Draco was wincing and mewing and crying, but Harry didn't stop. Harry didn't even stop when he felt the obvious hardness pressing into his lap.
With hand in continual motion and using each slap to punctuate his words, Harry demanded, "Do you *like* this, *Draco*?"
"Oh, Daddy," sobbed Draco, hips now moving minutely back and forth to meet Harry's hand, then alternately giving shallow, futile thrusts of his hardened penis into Harry's lap.
"*Listen* to me, *Draco*!" Now, Draco's flesh was even starting to burn against Harry's tingling hand, but he kept his voice steady, just like his hand, in effort not to lose control. "You will *never* let anyone look at you like *that* again, unless I *say* so! You are *mine* and you are too *precious* and *perfect* for them, do you under*stand*?"
"Oh, yes, yes," Draco moaned, tears of joy and pain making speech difficult. "Only yours, Daddy..."
"*Say* it *again*!" Harry bit out.
"I... am... only... yours!" the blonde boy shrieked, with a wild jerk of his head that sent one pink silken ribbon flying from his hair, letting the platinum wisps free to flap against his head with every slap of Harry's hand.
Harry delivered a final spank, then suddenly, was smoothing comforting fingers over Draco's poor, raw buttocks, touching him gently with infinite care and love, watching as Draco's sobs died down and his erection grew harder.
"Good boy, Draco... such a good boy..." he murmured gently, using his free hand to touch Draco's tear-streaked cheek.
"I'm so sorry, Daddy," Draco gasped.
"There, there," soothed Harry. "I forgive you. I *love* you. You're my dearest treasure."
"I love you, too," whispered Draco, eyes closing in exhaustion. His tiny hands gripped at folds in Harry's slacks, body relaxing under Harry's tender ministrations. "But I was bad... I'm so sorry... I deserve to be in trouble..."
"Shh, now," Harry shushed the boy. "You've been punished already. Now it's time to play."
"Play?" Draco's head, which had been resting against Harry's leg, perked up.
"Oh, yes. You've been wanting to play. I know you have been... or else you would never have been so naughty. I think it's a hint!"
Draco squirmed on his legs, the picture of guilty, but happy, discomfort. Harry, smiling at the child, lifted the hand that was red-palmed from its recent work, and quickly pushed his longest finger into his mouth. He drew it in and out several times, Draco watching with wide eyes that glowed with dawning realization as he thoroughly coated it with saliva.
"Hold still, darling." Harry's tone was completely different than it had been before. Draco closed his eyes and held as still as he possibly could, even though he wanted to wiggle and twitch and cry out when he felt Harry's long middle finger, wet and cooled from the breeze, begin to stroke delicately at his very most secret of places. His legs froze up with the intense sensation of Harry ever so delicately probing and stroking and moistening the tight little pucker. It made his breathing hitch and his vision start to sparkle. Harry's voice caressed his ear almost like his touch was caressing Draco's skin, saying, "It's all right to talk, love."
Then, before he even gave Draco a chance to say how much he loved Harry, he slid his slick finger firmly into Draco's hole, delving quite easily in. Draco yelped with the intrusion, but his hot cock was pulsing with newfound sensation.
"Does that feel good?" Harry questioned deliberately, sliding his finger smoothly in and out.
"Oh... YES..." he groaned softly, beginning to accept the feeling of the finger moving around gently inside him. Then, just as it seemed like the finger was going to touch something deep inside him, it disappeared, and Draco flumped back into Harry's lap, not realizing that he'd nearly been floating on the feelings. He hissed quietly in disappointment.
"Oh, but you *are* naughty. You can stand up now, Draco."
Sadly and slowly, Draco did, feeling his skirts slide back down to cover his bottom. They swished along the tingling flesh and made him shiver. Harry stood up, too.
"Now," he instructed, with a twinkle in his eye, "get on your knees for Daddy, in the chair, and lean over the back of it."
Draco looked at him curiously, but didn't question -- NEVER questioned -- Harry's instructions. Carefully, he did as he was told, bare knees on the chair, until he was facing away from Harry again. Harry knelt down behind him, once again lifting the pink froof of his skirt. Draco wiggled incessantly as his bottom was once again bared for Harry, and Harry feasted his eyes on the sight of those smacked little buns. As much as he hated to halt them, he did so by firmly placing his hands on Draco's hips.
"You're an absolute angel, darling. And this is so naughty... you mustn't tell anyone about this, Draco... do you understand?"
Quickly, Harry began to lathe long, luscious licks in the musky-sweet valley of Draco's buttocks, sliding and slicing between them wetly. Draco gasped, arching and shoving the pert cheeks back at Harry eagerly.
"Ooh, yes, oh, yes, Daddy," he incoherented, but it wasn't clear as to whether he was agreeing about the secret or about the tongue. Harry felt the tight, wrinkled orifice tightening and relaxing convulsively under his tongue, tasted its clean, salty taste and smelled its deep odor. Stabbing gently at the guarded entrance, Draco mewed at the hot, slimy intruder and allowed him entrance -- Harry's tongue slid inside the quaking hole slick and true.
All at once, Draco's body completely melted under Harry's firm, strong hands running soothingly over the skin that still tingled from the spankings and wet tongue spearing into him, tasting his inner walls and coating them thickly with hot saliva. Keening squeaks and moans were spilling from Draco's tiny flushed-pink lips unheeded as the boy lost himself completely to the pleasure and let Harry suspend him like a puppet on a tense plane of sensation. Every hot breath that graced his ass cheeks and slim white thighs caused the feelings to sharpen and intensify; every wiggle of Harry's clever tongue deeper into his anus, rubbing lovingly against the spasming ring of muscle that was going crazy under the attack, made Draco's cock throb and twitch against the free-hanging pink material in front of it.
"Mmm," Harry groaned, tongue still working at loosening Draco's slickening hole. This was positively delicious. The boy was clean, just as he ought to be, but would definitely need a bath after this, as now tiny dribbles of saliva were escaping down his chin and trembling and sliding their way slowly down the inside of Draco's thighs. The child tasted so sweet and sharp, with a flavour all his own, hot and tight and trembling around his tongue. Harry held the twitching hips still so he could take his time with his tender exploration, keeping the folds of pink taffeta away from the perfect red-stained ivory flesh.
"Daddy... oh, please!" Draco's breath sobbed, unashamed of his carnal needs like the child he was. His hips were trying to snap this way and that, to increase speed, friction, to rub his stiff cock against the back of the chair, but Harry held him still firmly.
Slowly, though, he slid his tongue out and Draco groaned with protest. Quickly, he substituted his middle finger again, sliding it in quickly with the slippery lubrication from his tongue and watching it sink deep, deep, to his first knuckle.
"OH! Yes, YESYES, Daddy... oh... please!!" Draco moaned fitfully, near tears once more, cries not lost upon Harry's ears.
Harry kissed and licked generously along the abused red cheeks. "Yes what, my darling? Tell your Daddy just what you want."
Now Draco did cry, in frustration. "More! Anything... something...! Oh, *Daddy,* please, deep... YES!"
As Harry fingered his hot-silken insides, he was deliberately caressing over Draco's prostate, never failing to give it a tender rub. But sensing that Draco was too quickly hurtling over the edge with such focused attentions, he removed the finger and eagerly slipped his tongue back into the more receptive, twitching channel. The effect produced was a loud squelching noise that made Harry's cock twitch in his slacks.
Draco began to moan unintelligably without stop, pleading with his daddy for more touching, for release, for the stars and sun and moon that only Harry could pluck from the heavens and hand to him on a silver platter.
Harry's tongue wiggled around in the profusely lubricated opening, pointing and searching as deep as it could go. He was determined to send his little love over the edge only like this, and Draco was awfully close from Harry's worshipping of the rear he'd abused only minutes before.
"DADDY," Draco wailed in ecstasy, leg muscles tightening up and anus beginning to clench once more. "Oh, Daddy, PLEASPLEASEPLEASE harder, don't, don't stop...!"
Harry purred from Draco's strained jumble of hisses and sobs. He paused briefly to assure Draco, "Mmm, babydoll, Daddy loves his baby!" Then, he thrust his tongue back in and sent it to mad work, and found himself issuing one last hearty spank onto the butt cheeks right on front of him.
Draco's back arched impossibly under the assault, and his body was caught in a frozen state of absolute ecstasy for a shining white moment before he splintered like an ice sculpture into thousands of shuddering, squelching little pieces. Harry could see his rather pretty hairless balls contracting and pumping what was no doubt copious loads of come onto his Sunday dress.
There was a belated, hoarse scream ripped from Draco's throat, and he toppled ungracefully over with his legs sprawling -- Harry managed to catch him just in time, and indeed, the dress was warm and sticky and dripping in front. But he held the quaking child to him tenderly, feeling the boy's thigh muscles contracting in pulses and noting how he could see Draco's heart beating beneath the pinafore of his dress.
"Come, now, dearest... we'd best get you into the bath and get your dress into the wash," Harry said gently, and Draco looked up at him hazily. It took a moment, but a light flicked on somewhere in them, and he nodded and slung his arms up around Harry's neck.
"Love you, Daddy," he murmured contentedly, allowing Harry to pick him up like he were a fragile china doll, a delicate lace-laden plaything. He passed briefly in and out of awareness while Harry carried him slowly inside their house. He woke up slightly when he was set down on a low wooden stool in their bathroom, and became aware that Harry was lovingly sliding the Mary Janes from his feet, setting them aside with infinite care. One lacy white sock was peeled from his foot, then the other; the white pinafore on his dress was pulled off smoothly, his dress unbuttoned and pulled up over his shoulders, and all clothes discarded. Harry had drawn a warm bath for him, and he hadn't even noticed. Harry again picked up the naked Draco, who still had one pink-ribboned pigtail that was slowly slipping loose, kissed him on the forehead, and lowered him gently into the water.
"It isn't too hot, is it, Draco?"
"No, it's simply perfect," sighed Draco, exhausted body relaxing in the gently-lapping water.
Harry knelt beside the tub and took a soft white washcloth in hand, and Draco couldn't argue as Harry gently began to rub him down with it, starting with the sticky stomach and spreading out to even his fingertips, behind his ears, and into the cleft of his ass, all the while whispering words of love and praise. Draco was his daddy's angel, loved and valued and cared for.
Draco nearly fell asleep twice during the thorough cleaning. He stirred once more, disjointed from the reality that was time, as Harry stood. Draco investigated him - his sleeves were rolled up, but still damp from the water, and his sweater vest was messy. Veins protruded from his arms, a damp sweat was making his messy hair stick damply to his forehead, and there was still lust burning in the green eyes that looked down at him affectionately.
"Daddy," laughed Draco teasingly, "*you* need a bath!"
Harry laughed, putting his hands on his hips. "I do!"
Swishing an idle hand back and forth in the water, Draco gazed up at Harry in innocence. "There's lots of room in here. You should hop in."
"You want me to take a bath with you, Draco?" Harry grinned.
Draco nodded wildly, then smiled happily as Harry shed his sweater vest quickly. Draco's frilly panties dropped from it, light as a feather, to the floor, making the child in the bathtub giggle. Off came the button-up shirt, next, then the undershirt beneath that... Draco's eye ate up the feast of lean, perfect naked skin being revealed in front of him. Clothes were piling on the floor, the belt added on top... he bit his lip in anticipation as Harry's fingers fumbled with the button on his slacks, then the slacks and underwear were lowered at the same time. Harry stood erect again, in two senses -- straight and proud -- cock firm and upright, the head a rosy purple colour. He looked absolutely luscious.
"Ooh..." Draco cooed. Harry titled his head with a tiny grin, letting Draco look at him. The luminous eyes blinked up at him owlishly, and then Draco was sitting up, leaning forward over the edge of the tub, beckoning Harry over. Tiny white hands took his engorged organ gently, fondling it and exorcising a deep moan from Harry that sounded like it had been repressed for far too long. "I like my new toy. Daddy, you spoil me." Draco batted his eyelashes coquettishly.
Harry couldn't respond at Draco's childish words; the ginger touches already driving him mad. He just stared down at Draco, stomach sinking and rising quickly with his breaths, watching as the perfect lips parted and kissed the slippery head of his cock as one would kiss a close friend or favourite possession.
"Daddy, do you want me to..." Draco trailed off.
Harry panted, hips involuntarily thrusting forward as Draco opened his mouth teasingly.
"Oh, you do..." murmured the boy breathlessly. "You do want me to suck it... you'd like for me to suck it, wouldn't you?"
"Dra-Draco..." Harry whispered desperately. He seemed to have lost the ability to communicate in any other way than that. Draco just looked up at him, hands beginning to stroke. He slowly moved his lips over the swollen head, taking it in slowly and surely. Harry's knees nearly buckled as he watched Draco's jaw stretch to accommodate him. "Don't hurt yourself..."
Draco gave a tentative suck swirling with his tongue, and Harry's balls began to twitch. Abruptly, he reached forward and pulled Draco off of him. He was too close. He'd waited so long... but it couldn't be over so soon... he had to get some control over himself.
That wasn't easy with Draco licking his lips and running his hands all over.
"Perhaps," growled Harry, "we should get you to bed."
Draco was yanked out of the water into Harry's arms before he knew it, then again deposited onto Harry's bed in the next room, stretched out dripping wet over clean white bed linens and limbs manipulated in a tangle of heat. His ankles were momentarily perched on Harry's shoulders, two pillows stuffed under the small of his back, and stars were shooting across his eyes as Harry wiggled two fingers into his hole, which was still sufficiently prepared from all the attentions it had received earlier.
No words were exchanged between them as Harry removed his fingers and eased the head of his cock into the boy's hole. Draco moaned loudly and the head popped through quite easily, quickly followed by the rest of the thick, pulsing shaft. Draco felt as if he'd surely swallow Harry whole any second, and would have, if he could. The flurry of mouths and hands that followed were a blur of sensation and voices caught in the thick of throats, and Draco was only dimly aware of their surroundings disappearing and their charade shattering like a broken window as the shoes, the dress, the panties, no longer became important. The entire world consisted of the single breath that flowed between him and Harry as Harry pummeled that deep spot inside him mercilessly, making them both shout and cuss and snap and become creatures of pure need who moved to their own contorted beat before freezing and burning and exploding and squelching and losing all touch with reality.
Reality was never missed with Draco and Harry.
Draco's fingers graced over the sweat-dampened skin of his lover, and mentally, he picked up a piece of their cracked and distorted mirror.
"Daddy..." he whispered, and Harry trembled atop him.
"Yes, my darling?"
"I have one more thing to tell you."
"Then tell me." A kiss was burned into his neck.
"I got my nice dress very, *very* dirty."
Harry chuckled, running a hand over Draco's hair and the silk of his pink ribbon, which was still stubbornly tied in a sad little bow.
"Then I suppose another punishment is in order. What am I to do with you? You're the naughtiest little child."
Draco smiled at the praise.
A jumble of fiery, sweaty limbs and one never-ending body, the two fell asleep, physically and mentally exhausted from their morning of extensive play-acting. The daisy-chain was still clinging to Draco's mussed up blond locks, a spot of true childish innocence among the spent boys and their fantasies. Harry overwhelmed, Draco treasured, their crown of flowers kept carefully in tact.