There was a time when Draco thought he could have anything he wanted. After all, he was a Malfoy and the life of a Malfoy was one filled with privilege and promise, given by right of birth. But then, Father was taken to Azkaban, which was all Potter's fault, and Draco threw himself at the Dark Lord's feet, promising to serve Him as his father once did. Draco promised everything to his new Lord, thinking he'd immediately take his place at His right hand, just as his father had.

Draco hadn't realised that there was a pecking order to these things, though, and he'd just voluntarily placed himself at the bottom of the trough. There was already someone in his father's place, of course. The Dark Lord gave Draco to Severus as a gift -- a goodwill gesture for years of loyal service -- and for the first time in his life, Draco had to earn something.

A Malfoy with goals is something formidable, indeed.

Draco tried his best to please his new Master, meticulously studying Severus's likes and dislikes. When Severus moved into Malfoy Manor -- what was Draco's, now his -- and made a moue of disgust at a speck of dust in his (not Father's, not Father's) office, Draco set the house elves to work immediately. When he found Severus admiring one of his mother's silk frocks, he wore it to bed that night, knowing he'd float for weeks on his Master's one grunt of approval before it was torn to shreds. He submitted willingly, desperate for every touch, any pleasure he could milk vicariously through Severus. Everything Severus asked, no matter what it was, Draco did. He was the perfect, model slave.

So, when Severus handed him a foul-smelling potion one night, Draco drank it without question. It tasted worse than it smelled and soon, he felt his stomach rumble, his long fingers grow stubby and rough, and he shrunk an inch or two. The room grew blurry and Draco, woozy and uncertain, called out, "Master?"

"Potter," Severus answered. Draco's eyes widened and he understood. Severus took the two steps needed to close the distance between them and cupped Draco's chin, tilting it upwards. "Potter," he said again, much softer this time, moving his lips over Draco's forehead. Draco's forehead wrinkled because his (cursed, ugly, scarred) skin tingled at the touch. Tingled and hurt and felt good because, oh, now Severus's mouth was moving down the side of his face, granting Draco little kisses, finally landing on Draco's mouth.

The mouth that wasn't his was clumsy and awkward, but Draco wasn't sure if that was from the Polyjuice or because Severus had never kissed him before. His Master's warm tongue massaged against his and Draco allowed a moan to escape when Severus bit his lower lip. Severus pulled back and examined Draco's (not yours, it's Potter's, he doesn't look at you like this) face, rubbing his thumb over Draco's mouth. "Insolent boy. You'll only make noise when I say you make noise."

"Yes, Master," Draco said obediently, eyes downcast, startled when he heard Potter's voice in place of his own. He would keep silent, he would. Draco couldn't stand Potter stealing his moans -- not the ones he'd earned.

"Good," said Severus, "come now. We haven't much time." He swooped down to claim Draco's (Potter's) mouth again, pressing his body flush against Draco's. Draco could feel how hard his Master was even through his robes -- when Severus adjusted in order to nudge Draco towards his chambers, Draco had to bite back a gasp. The feeling was definitely mutual.

Once in the bedchamber, Severus perched on the edge of the bed and ordered Draco to strip, which didn't take long because though what Draco wore was pretty, there wasn't very much of it. He hated seeing Potter's cock in place of his own -- it didn't look right, of course, and the foreskin that Draco didn't usually have was unnerving him. And yet, he was achingly hard, though he'd barely been touched, so Draco sat next to Severus and nuzzled against his Master's shoulder. "Where do you want me?" he whispered, not wanting to hear Potter's voice again.

Severus gave him a sharp look. "I didn't give you permission to speak yet, Potter." Draco nearly winced at the name. Couldn't he address Draco some other way? The faintest hint of a smile tugged at Severus's mouth. "You'll have to be punished."

Draco suppressed a shiver as Severus pushed him down on the bed and with a wave of his wand made shackles circle his wrists. Should he struggle? Should he stay still? He searched Severus's eyes for any hint of how he should act, but Severus just stared at him predatorily, as though Draco was about to be devoured. Severus never looked at him that way. Jealously flared, making Draco's head spin, but he couldn't pull himself away from those dark eyes, nearly glittering in the dim light of the room.

Severus stood and shed his own robes, then covered Draco's naked body (not your body) with his own. Closing his eyes, Draco had to struggle to stay silent again as Severus licked his earlobe and pushed their pricks together. Severus kissed his way down Draco's body, muttering the whole way, Draco catching phrases here and there --

"You deserve this." Severus suckled on Draco's neck.

"Mine." Tongue swirled over a nipple and Draco inhaled sharply when Severus bit down.

"Impudent, horrible boy..." Severus nuzzled his cheek against the course hair on Draco's belly that Draco didn't have.

"...Finally, finally..." Grasping Draco's hips, Severus dragged his tongue along the length of Draco's erection, then lapped at the head, swallowing the clear drops of fluid that had formed there. Draco shut his eyes, biting his lower lip in a nearly futile attempt at being silent (You don't want to hear Potter's voice again!). Then, Severus swallowed his whole length, his deep voice humming his pleasure around Draco's cock as he moved up and down, sucking and pressing his tongue against the sensitive flesh. Draco couldn't help it; he hissed, hoping that was silent enough for his Master. This was different. His head was telling him he should hate this, but the warm mouth closed around him was telling saying something quite different.

Severus's thumbs lovingly caressed the place where Draco's thighs met his hips, his movements slow and deliberate, each drawing more and more pleasure from Draco's body. His other hand had drifted from Draco's hip to the place behind his bollocks, stroking lightly, but firmly and Draco squeezed his eyes even more tightly. With the combination of the wet, warm mouth and the soft touches to his (enemy's) body, Draco already felt his orgasm approach. He wanted Severus to stop. He didn't want Severus to ever stop. Severus dragged his mouth up and flicked his tongue against the head Draco's cock. "Oh, God," Draco whispered, thinking he'd said it to himself. His eyes flew open and whimpered with the loss when his Master promptly pulled away.

"I...I'm sorry," Draco said in terrified, quiet tones, realising his error.

Severus was lightly running his hands along Draco's thighs, smirking when Draco squirmed, eager to be touched again. "I make one request, Potter, and you can even obey that?" Draco's eyes went wide, not knowing what Severus planned to do with him next. Whip him? Draco remembered a time not so long ago when the welts had been so painful he couldn't sit for two days. He hoped Severus wouldn't lend him out to another senior Death Eater again. Worse yet, maybe he'd just leave him here, shackled to the bed, completely unfulfilled.

"I'm sorry," he said again. Could a voice crack on a whisper?

But Draco hadn't expected Severus's reply at all. Severus lightly ran his fingertips over Draco's cock, which bobbed a few inches above a dark thatch of hair Draco hated and didn't recognise. In low, dulcet tones, Severus said, "Speak then, Mr Potter." Draco's eyes went wide again and he cried out. "Tell me," said his Master, wrapping his hand around Draco's saliva-slick cock and moving roughly; Draco panted and thrust into his hand. "What would you have me do to you?"

Oh, God, he needed... "Fuck me," Draco begged, no longer caring that the rough, lust-filled voice was Potter's and not his own. "Fuck me, please, God, I'll die if you don't."

Severus's eyes were wide and his lips were parted. "You'll die without my cock inside you, Mr Potter?"

"Yes, yes, please, sir." Draco pulled at his restraints, wishing he could touch his Master as his hips bucked up helplessly. Severus growled at Draco's (Potter's) words and grabbed his wand, casting a lubricating spell. Draco felt the slickness on his cock and inside his body. He whimpered softly; he needed Severus now.

Severus arranged Draco's legs on his shoulders, his erection nudging against Draco's entrance. His hands grasped Draco's hips once more, effectively keeping him from moving, as he eased past the ring of muscle, far, far too slowly for Draco's liking. Didn't Severus know how much Draco needed him?

Once Severus was fully sheathed inside, Draco gave a shout, realising that Potter was unbearably tight, causing Draco far more pain than he'd felt in quite a long time. This quickly turned to pleasure-pain when Severus started moving. Severus rocked against Draco's body, but just barely, their synchronised breathing growing more ragged with each tiny thrust. Then, Severus pulled out almost completely before pushing inside him again, his cock rubbing against Draco's (not yours, not yours) prostate. Body in sensory overload, Draco couldn't help throwing his head back and gasping.

Then, Severus increased his speed, soon pounding into Draco's body heedlessly as Draco struggled against the shackles. Severus's eyes never left Draco's face -- not when he thrashed against the pillow,, not when he nearly bit through his lip because he needed Severus to touch him, and not when he stared back unblinkingly. Without looking away, Severus's hand curled around Draco's cock; the delicious friction of his Master's slick hand rubbing him caused him to cry out. "I c-can't," he stuttered, shocked at how much he sounded like Potter. "I'm going to...please...can I?"

Nodding, Severus grasped him more tightly and purred, "Come for me, Harry." Draco was already too far gone to comprehend the words as he came all over Potter's belly, crying out his Master's name again and again.

"Harry," Severus groaned as he grabbed Draco's thighs and thrust once more, his voice breaking as he came shouting Potter's name (not yours, never yours).

Draco's legs slid off Severus's shoulders as the bonds released. His Master eased himself out of Draco's body, then crawled up alongside him, Draco rolling onto his side to accommodate him. Severus pushed a lock of sweaty hair off Draco's forehead as he tenderly placed a kiss at the nape of Draco's neck. He thought he heard Severus murmur "one last taste" against his skin. Then, Draco's stomach gave a loud rumble and, relieved, he felt his body return to its natural state. Severus immediately rolled away.

Without looking at him, his Master said, "Thank you, Draco. Your services will no longer be needed tonight. Please return to your own chambers."

Draco nodded and slid off the bed, quickly dressing in his (ridiculous, pointless, demeaning) clothes, and exiting without a word. He'd do anything to please his Master, he told himself. Of course he did, Draco did everything perfectly. His Master wanted him, Draco knew. He did.