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A Lesson in Propriety

Ginny shook her head in amazement at the stupidity of people. Three pranksters had taken it upon themselves to terrorize the Ministry with mostly harmless, yet annoying pranks that could take whole offices out for days at a time.

They should have seen it coming.

Different from the twins – she frowned and chased away the melancholy that wanted to creep up on her, even after all that time – well, different from her b*****rs, these people sometimes pulled slightly dangerous pranks with longer effect.

No one laughed at them anymore and it should have been clear to the perpetrators as much as it was to everyone else that eventually, they would be caught and punished severely for slowing down everyone’s work at the Ministry, sometimes with rather grave results. Think international relations, c***d care, or accidental magic reversal. Shutting those offices for more than one day could end in economical crisis, continued c***d abuse, lasting mutilations and even death.

Today, the prank terrorists had finally been apprehended, though; but not before they could set off one last prank firework. Ginny’s floor was now inundated with strange little creatures that would change at touch, and randomly multiply. She was certain those people had copied that effect from WWW. She huffed a little. Such cheek!

But then again, this whole episode had left her with a sudden three day vacation – until the clean-up unit had entirely scoured their offices.

Could have been worse.

Now with a cheerful smile, she apparated home, wondering what Harry might be doing.

She had taken maternity leave when their first c***d arrived; with the second one, though, Harry had taken over. Ginny silently suspected that he was happy to have a break from being the big bad Auror. She knew they had enough money that neither of them would have to work, yet she would never tell Harry to just drop the work if he disliked it so.

Harry had an innate urge to feel useful. Of course, he always had the k**s and her – which was quite a handful, to be sure. However, her mother frequently took charge of the k**s, and Ginny was at work most of the day. Left to his own devices for more than a few hours, Harry would undoubtedly feel that he wasn’t doing all he could.

Hum. Molly might have taken the k**s today, as well. Maybe Harry wasn’t even home, but off somewhere, making himself useful in who knew what way. He always found something, but… it was only going to work for one or two years. Given more time to himself, and the k**s eventually going off to Hogwarts, Ginny could not see Harry being happy without a job.

Ginny turned the key and silently entered the house, thinking that if the k**s were home, at least one of them might be napping. Of course, if that were the case, Harry would be bustling around the house, cleaning this, arranging that… She smiled. Harry always needed to feel busy and in control of every situation. Some people might have been annoyed with that, but she had long ago decided that it was just part of her Harry.

And she loved Harry.

So she could deal with this, as well. If Harry needed to feel in control…

All thoughts left her at the sight that greeted her when she entered the bedroom. She looked, and looked some more, and drew a complete blank.

This…. this couldn’t be true. It didn’t make sense.

Her husband. Her always-in-control, conservative, silent and somewhat shy husband. Was kneeling on the bed, feet tied behind him, one hand holding him up above the covers, a napkin gagging him and his right hand … shoving a fat, steely grey dildo up his own ass.

“…Harry?”

The man on the bed froze. He looked up at her with wide, panicked eyes and they stared at each other for many seconds, both totally at a loss for words.

Life suddenly came back into Harry’s body. Like a firecracker, his magic rippled around him, dissolving his bonds and causing his wand to fly into his right hand while his left was busy covering him up with the blanket.

Ginny gaped. She didn’t think he had removed the… the thing from his arse, and it affected her quite oddly to know it was still in there while he was stammering excuses, swearing it would never happen again and that he was sorry…

Wait. What?

“Harry,” she interrupted him. “I admit I am confused by this whole business, but I’ve never seen you looking this… this blissed out after sex with, well, with me.” It hurt to admit it, but that didn’t make it any less true. “I’m sorry, but I can’t believe you would just say “That’s it.” and never do it again, when you so obviously enjoy it.”

Harry was shaking, but he just kept on repeating that he wouldn’t, that if he’d known she might walk in on him, he never would have in the first place and he was sorry for being such a perverted –

“Harry.” Once again, Ginny had to rather f***efully cut her husband off in order to make herself heard. “Harry, stop it right there. I know what you’ve been about to say, and I told you before and I’ll tell you again as often as I need to: You are not a freak, and fuck the Dursleys who killed your self-confidence!”

“…them,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“But it isn’t just them,” Harry repeated a bit louder, not looking her in the eye. “The Dursleys called me a freak for having Magic, but… but this… this is different. Not just the Dursleys would think it’s freakish. Other people think so as well. And why wouldn’t they? It’s wrong. It’s unnatural. It’s… Oh Merlin, I’m sorry, Ginny. I just… I swear I’ll never do it again. Just, please! Don’t leave me?”

Ginny was too shocked for words. “Why should I leave you? …Harry, are you telling me you’re gay?? Then why did you marry me in the first place?”

It just all didn’t add up.

Ginny wasn’t angry, she was confused. Too confused to be angry. If Harry were gay, then indeed going to bed with her every night would be perverted, wrong and unnatural. And it hurt to even consider it. Had they not always been good for each other?

She knew the sex wasn’t perfect. That certain spark that was always mentioned in novels – well, they were good together, no doubt: She loved Harry, wanted to be around him for the rest of her life, kissing him, touching him, talking to him, doing things together… But still, when they made love, that certain *spark*… wasn’t there.

Before Harry, she’d fooled around with a few guys – Dean, Justin, Colin… She’d never ‘gone all the way’, though. That, she had reserved for Harry. So she had nothing to compare it to. Sex with Harry just was what it was. It wasn’t amazing, but it was good. She’d been content, and she’d simply assumed that the stories of endless excitement, of fireworks and of blacking out were greatly exaggerated.

But what if they weren’t?

What if Harry had found their sex life lacking a lot more than she had? What if he wasn’t satisfied at all?

But he’d always seemed so in love. Ginny had been sure, if he could, then Harry would give her the world.

Was it all a lie?

“Harry, have you ever been with a man?”

Harry clutched his blanket to himself and looked down at his hands. “Yes,” he whispered.

“While you were married to me?”

Now his head snapped up and his suspiciously shiny eyes met hers. “Never!”

Ginny slowly exhaled. That was something, at least. But… “But you want to?”

“I… I… no.”

Ginny frowned. That didn’t sound too convincing. “Harry. I have to know this. If you want to leave me, then bl**dy well say so and don’t keep our marriage going just for the sake of propriety! If you walk out on me, I’ll hate you for it. But if you stay and lie to me, I will never forgive you! I don’t need pity!”

Now, she was angry, after all. Harry wasn’t making any sense, but if he couldn’t tell her straight out that he didn’t prefer guys, then what was he doing, playing happy f****y with her?!

“Harry, do you love me?”

“Yes! Ginny, I love you more than anything! Please, believe me!”

“Do you like sex? What we do with each other?”

“Yes. You are wonderful, Ginny, and beautiful, I love you and I love having sex with you…”

“But it’s not enough.” It wasn’t a question. She had seen, after all.

Harry broke down.

Ginny had not seen him crying like that since that day, three weeks after the end of the war, when he had finally broken and cried for all those they had lost. Ever since, he had always been collected, calm and, well, reassuringly strong, really.

Now, he was just pathetic. It hurt her to see him like that.

Sobbing.

Pleading.

Hating himself.

“I know I shouldn’t want this, and I don’t! But it’s – it’s just … I am weak. I’ve done this only four times since we got married, Gin. And I’ve always regretted it afterwards. And now, now that you’ve seen… I don’t think I could ever do it again.

“I’d rather kill myself.

“Please, Ginny, please! I swear I won’t! In fact, you never should have seen that in the first place. Can we… can we just pretend it never happened? Oh, I know…”

He raised his wand, panic and despair haunting his eyes. “Oblivi-”

“DON’T. YOU. DARE!!!”

Harry broke off and huddled further under the blanket. “S-sorry.”

Ginny plucked the wand out of his limp hands. She couldn’t believe what was happening and felt totally out of her depth. Why would Harry do it if he was disgusted by it?

“Do you…umh…” How could she even ask this? Oh, this was embarrassing! But if she wasn’t enough for him, she needed to know. If she stayed with a man who desired – she wasn’t sure just what he wanted, but, well, desired something, something else, something not her, then she was setting herself up for a lot of pain. Better to have it out in the open now.

“Do you…. enjoy… being, umh, you know, tied up? And hurt? And to -” she blushed “-tobefuckedbyaman?” Oh, this was too embarrassing for words! She knew her face must be red enough to compete with a ripe tomato.

But then she looked at Harry again, his white face half-buried under the blankets, body shaking and pain and anguish warring on his features; and suddenly she wasn’t embarrassed so much as simply worried. Harry seemed too afraid to even answer her.

If this were about him wanting out, wanting to leave her, he shouldn’t have been so terribly afraid. Sorry, for sure – he was a nice person, after all, who wouldn’t want to hurt her. But not panicked as though he feared for his life.

Or feared to lose her.

“Harry?”

“I don’t. I don’t! I don’t!”

Ginny just felt more confused. “But then, why would you do this to yourself?”

Harry sobbed.

“Have you been cursed??” Ginny jumped up and fished out her own wand to check Harry for curses. If he were made to do this, when he obviously hated the very idea of it… She shuddered.

But she had barely got five counter-curses in when Harry laid a hand on her arm to stop her.

“Don’t…”

Ginny got the distinct feeling that they were getting exactly nowhere with this. She dropped her arm.

“Tell you what. I go and make tea while you take a shower, get cleaned up…” She blushed at the thought that a certain toy was still fully sheathed within her husband. “And, and we sit down together in the living room and talk about this like grown-up, civilized people. The k**s are at the Burrow, I assume?” Harry nodded shakily. “Well, I’m off to make tea, then. Alright?”

Harry nodded again and Ginny left him to it, praying to every deity known to man that he wouldn’t do something stupid while she made the tea.

As she heard the shower drizzling in the bathroom, she tried to gather her thoughts and approach the situation logically. This had never been her strong suit at school – she was a red-head with the temper to match – but even she had grown up in the years since. While she didn’t entirely trust her reasoning capabilities just right now, she figured it was still worth a try.

So. Harry had been pretty much r****g himself on their bed.

He said he didn’t want it.

But he had looked like he was rather enjoying himself – a lot – before he noticed her.

Was he lying to her? If so, what did it mean for the two of them? Or was he telling the truth?

But how could he?

How could he deny being cursed, and yet do something he hated?

Was someone blackmailing him? Or did he have some kind of mental…

She didn’t want to go there. But if this conversation didn’t clear a few things up, she decided, she would. For Harry’s peace of mind as much as for her own.

The noises from the bathroom stopped and Ginny sat quietly sipping her tea until Harry came shuffling in. He was dressed prim and proper in Muggle trousers and a collared shirt. His hair, however… Ginny couldn’t help but smile. A wet Harry was always a fun Harry. Some strands of his hair were still wetly hanging into his face, while others were already dry and sticking up in his usual bed-hair, Potter style. He was cute when wet.

Usually, she would get up and give him a kiss, just for a chance to ruffle that hair a bit further, right about now.

But suddenly, she didn’t dare.

What if he truly didn’t want her anymore and just didn’t know how to say it? She would make herself look a right fool if she went for a cuddle.

Embarrassed and indecisive, she stayed where she was.

Whether Harry noticed her inner struggles or not was anyone’s guess. He kept his eyes on the floor as he silently and neatly sat down on the sofa opposite her.

Silence reigned.

Eventually, it became obvious that Harry would not speak, so Ginny decided to go ahead and just say her piece. She cleared her throat, but didn’t quite know how to start. Come on, just say something, she ordered herself.

“So. You… erm.” Good show, girl. Maybe you want to do a little step dance while you’re at it?

Angry at herself, Ginny’s voice came out rather harsh and demanding as she continued. “Why did you do what you just did? And look at me, for Gryffindor’s sake!”

Harry’s pained eyes met her furious ones as he tried to find the right words. “You know how you sometimes have a scab and you just can’t help but scratch it, even though you know you shouldn’t? Or you sometimes drink those two glasses of wine more, never mind that you’ll be sorry for it the next morning?”

Ginny nodded, her eyes never leaving his.

“Well, it’s a bit like that,” Harry explained awkwardly. “I could have just not done it, but that urge was always there, and there seemed to be no harm and so I…” He shrugged.

Ginny frowned. “So why are you saying you didn’t want to do it? Sounds to me like you did.”

She felt that it took a lot out of Harry not to lower his gaze, and yet he kept his eyes trained on hers – as she had asked him to. If he didn’t love her, a little voice in the back of her mind whispered hopefully, surely he wouldn’t go through the trouble?

Harry once again had a hard time explaining himself. “I do want to, that is, I did – but just like with scratching at barely healed wounds, I know deep down that I shouldn’t be doing it. It feels wrong, somehow. I know it is. So I wish I didn’t feel the urge to do it. That is why I said I don’t really want to.”

Ginny felt oddly relieved. No one had hexed Harry after all. Many years had passed since the war, and eventually all the Death Eaters had been captured and tried. The idea that there might still be people out there who would wish to harm Harry – well, she was glad to be proven wrong on this score. However, Harry’s words had opened a whole new box of worries.

“What do you feel is wrong about it?”

Harry looked shocked at the question. “Isn’t that a bit obvious?”

Ginny was beginning to get a much clearer picture, but she had to be sure before she did anything rash. She had lived with this man for close to a decade now, after all; if she knew one thing, then it was to always ask twice before agreeing with Harry that he was to blame for something. He was rather too proficient at blaming himself, so any utterance of his about him doing something wrong had to be taken with a grain of salt.

Careful questions, then. Guide him through this, and see whether it might not end up somewhere else than what she currently both hoped and feared. Hoped, because it would mean that he did still love her, after all. Feared, because of what it meant for her Harry.

Well. One way to find out about it.

“Harry, please answer me truthfully and without giving it too much thought. We have to clear this up now. So. Are you gay?”

“Uh, no.”

“But you’ve been with other men?”

“Only once… And that was one of the worst mistakes of my life.”

“Were you ****d?”

“I -no.”

“But do you, in general, like men or women?”

“I don’t know, Gin. I like you, and beyond that… Maybe I could be interested in both, had things gone differently. I don’t know. But they haven’t and I won’t. Be interested in someone else than you, that is.”

Ginny basked in Harry’s words. She needed them.

“Okay, so both it is, but you like me. That’s good to know.” She winked at him, feeling a lot better about this whole thing already. Still, there were issues left to discuss.

“Okay, moving on. Being tied up. Have you ever tried that before?”

“Once.”

“And you liked it?”

“…”

“Well, did you?”

“No.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense! Harry, why would you do that if you hated it?? Speak reason, man!”

“I… I thought I-. Well, I liked the idea. But not the reality of it. It’s wrong.”

Ginny closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This really seemed to have nothing to do with her, and she could be rather happy with herself. If she wanted to keep Harry, looked like she could have him. He would even give up this guilty pleasure for her.

Which seemed so much less pleasurable now that he was talking about it.

Ginny saw her own role in this conversation subtly moving from persecution to shrink. Harry had some serious issues. She only hoped she would be able to help him with them.

“I think I know where this is going, but just in case… All the other SM stuff – being tied up, gagged, and taking it up the- well. Anyway, all those things you were doing just then, you’ve tried them all once before?”

“Yes…”

“You wanted to, back then?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. But what happened then? You had a bad experience and decided it’s too dangerous, so you gave it up?”

“Huh?”

“Did your partner ignore your safeword?”

“Safeword?”

“Oh, Harry…”

Ginny closed her eyes. Just as bad as she had suspected. Maybe even worse.

“Harry. You know my friend Marcy, from work, right?”

He nodded slowly, unsure where this was going.

“Well, she’s a bit like you,” Ginny said, fully aware that this could turn into a disaster if he took her words the wrong way. Maybe it was lucky he was currently too intimidated and down-beaten to get angry or walk out on her, she reflected as she went on and Harry just stayed as he was.

“She enjoys handing over control to her partner. She enjoys being spanked and flogged, she likes being tied up, helpless, and totally at his mercy. And she’s very open about that.”

Ginny blushed. A bit too open for her taste, at times. But she had gotten over her initial disgust rather quickly. For one thing, she liked Marcy. It was impossible not to like her, she was such a sunshine k**. And as to the other reason – well, it didn’t sound all that bad after Marcy explained that she was not actually being hurt or used in any demeaning way. It only ever went as far as she allowed it to.

And, as she had once laughingly confided, she quite liked not having to work for her pleasure. Being totally tied up came with the added bonus of not having to think about how to please her partner. Ginny conceded that this might have its merits. Harry was often tense, and so intent on her pleasure that she sometimes had the feeling he was somewhat forgetting about his own.

Of course, she’d had no idea how much truth there was in her observations at the time.

“Well, Marcy told me all about BDSM, about other people who also enjoy power games and a bit of pain in their relationships. It sounds like a fun world, if one is so inclined.”

Harry was eying her suspiciously. “BDSM?” he asked as if hearing it for the first time. And maybe, Ginny realized with a sinking heart, he was.

“You never heard of it before?”

He shook his head, flushing. Ginny could practically hear him thinking how he was making a fool of himself.

“Well, I suppose it’s not a very common term,” she quickly amended. “If not for Marcy, I wouldn’t have known either.” There, that seemed to help.

“Anyway, it is short for Bondage and Discipline – BD -, Dominance and Submission – DS – and Sado-Masochism. SM. You heard of that one, at least?”

Harry frowned. “Isn’t that all about women in leather outfits and spiked collars and what-not?”

Ginny grinned. “Can be. First and foremost, SM is about pain, though, with the sadist giving and the masochist receiving it. And BD is the part about tying each other up… Although the terms all blend into each other and everyone is using them a bit differently. That’s why BDSM is such a handy expression, it wraps up many kinks and fetishes that often do go hand in hand, and gives them a name.”

Harry looked stumped. Poor k**. Ginny giggled. “You had no idea, did you?”

He shook his head and Ginny was strongly reminded of the lost puppy she had picked up a few years ago which had eventually found a home with Luna. But Harry was her puppy, and she intended to cuddle him right now.

Putting her tea down, she stood up and nudged Harry until he made room on the sofa. She lightly sat down, then wrapped her arms around him. “Looks like there are some gaps in your education, dear husband mine.”

And she proceeded to tell him everything Marcy had ever shared with her about BDSM.

Harry took some time to simply process what she was telling him, finally cluing in that she was not leaving him, nor was she even particularly disgusted with him. By the time she was just about to stop explaining, he had thawed enough to start asking questions. Were there really people out there with the same urges he felt? And they considered it normal? Was Ginny interested in that kind of sex?

That one caught her up short.

“I don’t know. I never gave it much thought. See, I didn’t think you would want to…”

Harry smiled shyly at her. “But you’re not freaked out by the idea?”

Ginny grinned. “Well, the idea of having you at my mercy does appeal, Mr. Perfectly-in-Control.”

Her smile showed teeth and gave her a predatory look.

Harry gasped. He’d never seen Ginny like that, and it made him feel…aroused, he noticed, totally amazed. “You… you would do that for me?” he whispered.

“No.”

Harry’s hopes sank.

“I’d do it for me. I don’t think it can work if one partner is just indulging the other. That can’t be very satisfactory. But, well, I loved that totally blissed-out look you had when I walked in on you. I want that. I want to give you that. And I want to feel that.

“I can’t promise that I’ll really enjoy hurting you. Ever. But I think tying you up, at least; that, I can do. I want to.” Her grin widened. “Marcy had no idea that when her stories made me flushed, I wasn’t exactly following her line of imagining someone tying me up…I just never thought I would one day have my very own victim to practice on. To me, it was always just something other people did. Sort of like a magical world apart from ours, you know?”

Harry laughed. It felt good to talk to Ginny about this. Never would he have imagined that she could be so relaxed about the issue. He loved her all the more for it.

“But Harry,” Ginny said and he could tell from her suddenly serious voice that he would not like what she was going to say next. “That man you were with… before we got married… Was that the first time for him, as well?”

Harry gulped. Yup, his intuition had been right. He so didn’t want to answer this question!

But Ginny had been wonderful. She deserved to be told.

“It was hardly his first time, no.” He was surprised himself by how bitter his voice sounded. “He knew all about toys and ties, all about humiliating and ordering someone around, too.”

He shivered. “I was such a naive little idiot.”

“He abused you.”

“He did that. At first, it was everything I had ever dreamed of, and more. But then, when it was over, he….”

Harry hung his head in shame. “I thought he wanted me as much as I wanted him, you know? To explore together, to find out more about …this…. But turns out all he wanted was to get one over on me. To humiliate me – in front of everyone. ”

“Everyone?” Ginny asked weakly. Just who had Harry been seeing?

“Everyone. I begged for him, let him insult me, hurt me, use me…. and I loved every minute of it. Until he took off the blindfold.”

Ginny hugged him tight.

“It was Draco Malfoy, Ginny. My sixth year. And he got a whole room full of Slytherins to watch!” Harry burried his head in her chest and cried.

Ginny hugged him to herself and ran soothing hands down his back. She wanted to kill Malfoy. How could he do this to Harry? How could anyone…?

“Harry? How can it be that I never heard of this before? I would think that Malfoy would have happily told the whole school…?”

“Snape,” Harry simply said. “Snape walked in on it all. Never have I felt so dirty, so used… But he’s the one who ultimately saved me, you know? Told them they were breaking school rules and if it came out, they’d have to be punished. So he worked some magic to make sure no-one could tell.

“But they all knew. Every day for the rest of that year, I could feel their eyes on me, judging me, ridiculing me… And I wondered, had Snape not come in, what else would they have done to me?

“That was part of the reason why I decided not to come back for my seventh year. There was a time when I would have considered finishing school before I went on my mad quest with Hermione and Ron. But after this, well. I just wanted out.”

Ginny held Harry silently after he had finished his story. There was nothing for her to say. Then a thought occurred to her.

“Harry, at the battle of Hogwarts, you told me later that you rescued Malfoy from the Fiendfyre. Why? Why would you rescue him after he did that?”

Harry seemed to consider this at length. “It was… I think it was just a reflex. It could have been Voldemort himself, and I might have tried to save him. When there’s a danger beyond human powers, I tend to snap into what Hermione calls my ‘hero-mode’. All I can think about is how to save as many people as possible. Stupid, eh?”

Ginny kissed him on the tip of his nose. “Nope. Cute.”

Harry smiled and kissed her lips. They opened up for him.

No more words passed between them for the next two or three hours.

Neither Ginny nor Harry really knew what either of them would be comfortable with, and Harry had no desire at all to naively rush into things a second time. Therefore, their love-making that day stayed strictly Vanilla.

Since Gin’s whole office was currently out of commission, though, it was easy for her to invite Marcy and her partner over for tea. After some initial reluctance on Harry’s part, their interest in the other couple’s love life was out in the open and Marcy pounced on it like a cat on a mouse.

“Oh Gin, this is so wonderful! You must join us at the party next month, oh, and how about we also introduce you to…” And she was off.

Ginny surreptitiously watched Harry out of the corner of her eye while nodding in all the right places to Marcy’s stream-of-consciousness monologue. At first, Ginny’s husband barely seemed to hear anything over his embarrassment, but like the day before, once he realized that these people really didn’t mind his ‘kinks’ and actually very much supported them, he loosened up and soon was eagerly firing questions at the couple.

Ginny smiled at seeing her husband’s face glow in anticipation. It also made her nervous as hell, though. She had no idea whether she would actually enjoy all that stuff, after all. Some of what her friends were talking about sure sounded like fun, but some of the other stuff…. She shuddered. Why would anyone want to be strangled during sex? Or cursed?

Harry must have seen the doubt in her eyes, for he silently reached out and squeezed her hand under the table. It would be alright. They were in this together, and Harry was already delirious just because she didn’t hate him for his desires. So what if there were a kink or three they did not share? They had gone years without any kinky sex at all, and while she did look forward to something ‘more’, Ginny couldn’t exactly say they had been boring years, either. She smiled at Harry and squeezed back.

Two years later.

Ginny pulled the strings tight on her corsage. Her short leather skirt and high-heeled boots made her feel sexy, as did the heavy make-up she wore for the rare occasion of going out in public. Despite Marcy’s constant invitations, this was only the second time she and Harry ventured out to socialize with other folks in the London scene.

There weren’t enough magical sado-masochists for a big party, so they had carefully joined their Muggle b*****rs-in-thought in this. Meaning her wand was down her boot, while Harry’s… She smiled over to where her husband was currently lacing up his own low boots.

Harry’s wand would be strapped onto his upper arm, just so hidden by his mid-length sleeves. His boots were too low, and he couldn’t very well stick it up the legs of his hot pants, now could he? Back and stomach were out of the question as well as that would hurt or look odd were he required to bend over. Which he just might…

She played with the leash in her hand, then gave it a playful tug when Harry had finished dressing. Following the pull on his collar, he happily came over to kiss his Mistress. They helped each other into some more civil looking overcoats, just to appease the neighbors.

Wrapping their arms around each other, they apparated.

As they stepped out of the convenient dark alley beside the club, they could already see some similarly cloaked people walking past and lining up outside the establishment. With a smile toward her husband, Ginny took the lead and made for the end of the line. They would not get any special treatment, because here, no-one knew them for the celebrities they were. Gin had changed her hair colour to blond while Harry’s scar had been hidden underneath some heavy-duty make-up. Both sported pretty, dark blue eyes.

Once inside the club, Ginny made a bee-line for the buffet. She knew where to find her colleague, after all.

“Marcy!”

The brunette woman turned around at Ginny’s call and came over to hug her. Her partner watched with some hilarity as Harry’s leash got in the way and Marcy nearly ended up strangling Ginny with it. There were many reasons why he preferred to tie her up – but clumsiness on her part was definitely one of them.

When Harry and Ginny had first joined Marcy and Stephen at the club, Marcy had parked her patient partner at the bar and taken the couple in hand. She’s shown them where to get food, explained the dark room and forewarned them about the performance later that night.

At some point, Ginny had dragged Harry into the dark room and he had promptly safeworded out. Public displays were just not on, after what Malfoy had done to him.

Just as well, Ginny decided. More time to talk to people and watch what other couples or threesomes were doing – some ideas really appealed and she remembered them for later use. This time, both were on the same page from the moment they set foot into the club. They were here just to watch, and to socialize.

It felt good to be among like-minded people, where a double entendre would not meet with total incomprehension and where teasingly smacking your partner’s ass was not seen as something offensive.

Today, they had a live buffet. Ginny daintily plucked a cherry out of the girl’s navel and fed it to Harry. She left figuring out what to do with the stone up to him. Meanwhile, Marcy was introducing yet another friend to them both. Ginny shook her head in wonder. Since Marcy took them under her wing, the number of Gin and Harry’s Muggle acquaintances was rising exponentially.

As was their experience.

At first, both had been a bit unsure how to go about things. Ginny had ended up practicing knots and other details with Stephen while Marcy advised Harry on what toys to get from what online shop. Visits to Marcy and Stephen’s soon fell into a regular pattern with some work/learning first, then cake and coffee with a side of sex-talk, and eventually a little stroll through the park. Odd, how much harmony one could gain in taking up a hobby that involved pain and humiliation.

Speaking of which…

“Hey, look at that blond guy,” Marcy suddenly frowned. “He sure has a patient sub.”

Ginny turned her head to see what her friend was talking about. Sure enough, there was a man standing with his back toward her – and he was standing on his kneeling partner’s fingers! The woman didn’t complain, just meekly kept her head bowed and her back straight.

Just then, one of the people the blond was talking to pointed out the woman’s squished fingers. Turning around and further hurting the woman in the process, the man finally noticed what he had been standing on. Those fingers might very well be broken after he turned on his heel while standing on them. Instead of apologizing, though, the man just grinned and patted the woman’s head. She seemed to take it all in stride.

Ginny, however, didn’t.

When the man turned, she had gotten a good look at his face.

Malfoy.

The man who had spoiled SM for Harry for over a decade, by making him feel dirty and sick because of his desires – that very same man was himself enjoying the colourful life of the London BDSM scene.

How. Dare. He.

Heads turned all around the establishment as Ginny Weasley, shrieking like a banshee, tackled Draco Malfoy to the floor and furiously slapped him across the face, three times. The last slap echoed loudly in the ensuing silence.

Harry, whose leash Ginny had dropped in her anger, slowly walked over and pulled her off the utterly baffled Malfoy. He frowned down on the supine man.

“I’d say sorrry, but then you really deserved that.”

His foot twitched, but Harry refrained from kicking Malfoy in the groin and merely spat in his face instead. Then he calmly wrapped his arms around Ginny and dragged her back over to the buffet.

They had not gone five steps when a growl stopped them.

“What the FUCK was that about!”

Harry and Ginny looked at each other. Harry nodded to his wife: “Your call, darling.”

Ginny slowly turned around, her glare piercing Malfoy’s angry grey eyes. “That, Malfoy, was about you spoiling SM for my husband for over ten years by playing against the rules. ‘SSC’ ring any bells, Malfoy? Safe, sane and consensual’?” She went back to tower over the now sitting man and for once, she actually looked scary.

To everyone’s surprise, Malfoy just looked confused, whereas his formerly happily suffering sub suddenly got to her feet. “You… you… ” She was agitated, but apparently lost for words.

“I?” he questioned, regaining some of his usual cool.

“You ****d a man?” she suddenly shrieked.

Malfoy got to his feet and grabbed her chin. “Slave, you forget your place! Apologize right now.”

“Dragons.”

Malfoy’s nostrils flared, but he let go of her at once. Then he turned his back on her, visibly straining not to lose his temper. “After six years, you safeword out for the first time – because of this??”

Tears were running down her cheeks, but she firmly stood her ground. “If I cannot trust in you to honour the rules, always, I am not sure I want you to keep control over my life.”

“I always honour the freaking rules! Did I not just respect your safeword? Why would you believe a stranger over me?”

“Because you would not answer in the negative. Have you ****d that man?”

“Hell, I don’t even know that man!”

Harry stepped forward and took Ginny’s hand again. “Sixth year, Malfoy,” he said calmly, but with a voice laced with a steely edge of resentment. “I did not consent to being made a spectacle for our yearmates. I did not consent to being turned into a freak show for all of them to watch. And I am firmly convinced that, had a certain teacher not walked in on your little party, involuntary exhibitionism would not have been the only non-consensual action on your and our spectators’ part I would have suffered that night. Do you deny it?”

Malfoy gaped at him “Po-”

“Stop!” Ginny cut him off. “Must you ruin this life for him, as well?”

Malfoy’s mouth snapped shut. He glanced at Harry’s invisible scar, at the couple’s blue eyes and the not entirely Muggle company they kept. “Can we discuss this further in private?”

Harry couldn’t help it. He laughed. Though it might not have been a very pretty laugh. “Coming from your mouth, the word privacy just really doesn’t scan…”

Ginny hugged Harry tight, glowered at Malfoy and finally snapped: “Come outside. You have five minutes. – Bye, Marcy; Stephen,” she added in a somewhat friendlier aside. Harry also nodded to the couple, then they were off.

Malfoy looked a bit lost all of a sudden, but luckily for him, his partner didn’t. The formerly oh so very passive girl stood behind him and pretty much pushed him towards the door.

Silence engulfed the place for a few more minutes. Then, a loud groan was heard from the darkroom. It broke the tension, and suddenly, people were laughing and chatting happily once more.

Outside, though, the mood was somber.

“How much does she know about your school?” Ginny asked, pointing at Malfoy’s partner.

“Enough to talk freely,” he answered politely. “She went there herself, graduated four years after us.”

“Alright,” Ginny said. “Mind if we apparate somewhere private for this talk, then?”

“No, that’s alright. Your place?”

“I don’t want you there,” Harry said coldly.

“Fair enough. Leaky Cauldron?”

“Dressed like this??”

“Our place?” the girl offered quietly.

“No,” Harry once again vetoed. “I don’t trust him.”

Ginny frowned. This was harder than it should be. Suddenly, she brightened. “WWW!”

Harry nodded slowly, while Draco scowled and the girl looked confused. Taking that as consent, Ginny nodded decisively, then took Harry by the hand and apparated to Diagon Alley. They had already rung the bell to George’s shop when Malfoy and his partner cracked into existence behind them.

“Who’s there?” George’s voice greeted them from behind the door.

“It’s us, Gin and Harry,” Ginny whispered back. No need to advertise it to all and sundry. Malfoy’s girl, however, had heard. Weasley and Potter? Her lips asked. Malfoy nodded at her and made a sign for her to hush.

Well, at least he has some brains, Ginny thought caustically.

George opened the door and stared at them. Gin belatedly remembered that her f****y knew nothing about her and Harry’s new affinity for BDSM. Their clothes must be a bit of a shock.

George gazed at them wordlessly for a good minute or two. Then, his lips twitched. “I feel quite the story coming up. Do enter. Bring the Malfoy if you must.”

A short while later, the two couples were seated uncomfortably around the coffee table in the messy living space above George’s shop.

“Tea, anyone?” George offered, happily waving a slightly greasy tea pot.

Harry and the girl accepted, while Ginny and Malfoy were too involved in a glaring contest to even notice. George shrugged, filled three cups and then leaned back to enjoy the show. When no-one spoke for the following three minutes, George eventually got bored and decided to get the conversation going himself.

“Sorry to interrupt your harmonious glaring, but could someone introduce me to the lady?” he asked cheekily, eying up the pretty woman sitting next to Malfoy.

“Her name is Cylene, and she’s with me,” Malfoy promptly warned him off.

“That remains to be seen,” Cylene snapped. Then she turned to George: “We are sorry to be troubling you at this late hour, but I desperately need clarification on a certain issue, and only H-Harry and Ginny?” – she glanced nervously at the two war heroes, who shrugged “- can give me the answers, I fear.”

Harry’s face was stony as he addressed Malfoy. “She’s right, you know? I would never have agreed to talk to you, were it not for her. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt by your Slytherin ways like…well.”

Malfoy stared at him with an odd mixture of regret and loathing. “I would never do that to her! You can say about Slytherins whatever you want, but I will not have you insulting our sense of honour.”

Harry barked a short laugh. “Where was that sense of honour when you decided to entertain the sixth year Slytherins by …by…”

George growled. “Has the bastard hurt you, little b*****r?” Cylene sat at attention on the edge of the sofa.

Harry visibly deflated. “Of course; but he hasn’t done anything I didn’t want him to do. Except that I had not planned on doing it with an audience. Or being ridiculed for how I feel.”

Ginny hugged him tight, while George just looked confused. “You wanted him to hurt you?”

Ginny rolled her eyes at her older b*****r. “It’s called masochism, b*****r. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of it, either.”

“Well, heard of it, yes, but… Umh, why ‘either’?”

Ginny’s glare became several degrees deadlier. “Because Harry here also hadn’t ever heard of it before he ran into Malfoy. He thought he was a freak for feeling that way. And Malfoy made sure that was all he ever saw it as: a perversion, unnatural and wrong. Something to hate himself for.”

Cylene gasped, and even Malfoy looked a touch uncomfortable. “You… you were not exaggerating before? When you said you had given up on SM for- for ten years?”

“What do you think?” Harry barked.

Stunned silence reigned for a few minutes. Eventually, Ginny was the one to break it. “He still wanted to, you know. And he was disgusted by his own needs. He… sometimes did things, alone, secretly. He was really hurting himself with his self-denial. Well, until I walked in on him two years ago…” Harry blushed, and Ginny smirked.

“Details, details,” George happily sang.

Harry blushed a bit more.

Cylene smiled sadly. “You really aren’t the public type, huh?”

Ginny turned on her. “Well, would you be, after an experience like that?”

Cylene’s smile wavered and died. “No, I suppose not… Harry, may I ask you a question?”

“Mhm?”

“Why did you go with Draco in the first place? I always had the impression you guys hated each other. And Draco, why did you do it?” She looked from one man to the other expectantly.

Draco shrugged. “He’d been stalking me all through sixth year, and I just really, really wanted him to stop. I figured I’d scare him a bit and he’d be off my case.”

Ginny snarled. “So you decided to publicly humiliate him?!” Ginny knew the whole story from Harry’s perspective, but had never been quite sure about Malfoy’s motivation. Openly hurting the Boy Who Lived seemed too foolhardy for a supposedly sneaky Slytherin.

George, however, was confused by something else entirely. “But, Harry, how could you not have seen that coming? You know Malfoy!”

Harry sighed tiredly. “Or so I thought. At the time, I was always after him, suspecting – correctly, as it turns out – that he was up to something. He did nearly kill Dumbledore, as you recall.”

“Like I would ever forget that!” George looked to be on the brink of jumping up to tackle Malfoy as his s****r had done. But Harry stopped him. “He also saved my life, later on, so let’s not talk about the war, alright? The important point is, Ron and Hermione were always telling me to drop it, that I was paranoid, yadda yadda. So when Malfoy cornered me and made advances, I decided against my instincts that maybe he really was simply out for a good time. I know, not my brightest moment; but I was also highly frustrated at the time, besides, you know logical thinking was never my strongest suit…”

George nodded slowly. Yes, he could perfectly see their naive little Harry getting into that situation head over heels.

“So what happened next?” Cylene asked, hesitantly.

Harry and Malfoy looked at each other.

“Some playing,” said Malfoy.

“My first time,” said Harry.

Malfoy gaped. “No way!”

Harry quirked an eyebrow. “What, you think I’m just naturally slow and clumsy? Let me tell you, I seriously had no idea what I was doing.”

He was as surprised as everyone else when he saw Malfoy dropping his head into his hands and mumbling: “Oh bl**dy fucking hell, you just have to be k**ding me.”

Slowly, the blond looked up again. “When you agreed to go with me, when you turned out to be so happy and eager to submit to me, your sworn enemy, I took it for granted that you had done this before. I keep forgetting how different Gryffindors are from us Slytherins. Where we would only ever put ourselves in a position of dependency and weakness after five times evaluating the risks against the gains and covering our asses in advance against any possible hazards, you people tend to rush in, live life to the fullest and count your losses at a later time.

“I am not saying either way is preferable to the other. I just believe that, were we not so different in nature, this misunderstanding need not have happened.

“As it was, I assumed that if you were so eager to crawl and beg for me, you must be unconcerned about the damage your image might take from this. It puzzled me at first, but then I decided that Granger and Weasley must know about your inclinations and support you, else you would not have taken the risk. You must have known, I thought, that you could not trust me to keep this to myself.

“Maybe you would have later unveiled some unexpected threat to keep me silent; that was a gamble I was willing to make to see you on your knees before me. I had a lot less to lose than you did. So I figured you must be secure in the knowledge that your friends would have your back no matter what. If the press got wind of it, they would be able to protect you as they have done previously. I envy you for that. Don’t think I didn’t notice the bug that Granger kept carrying around in a glass after the end of fourth year!”

Malfoy paused, an odd smile playing around his lips as he reminisced about their school days.

“But wasn’t it risky for you to pull your whole year into it?” Ginny asked with narrowed eyes.

Malfoy sighed.

“It was. But it was less of a risk than most other things in my life at that point. The Dark Lord-”

“Voldemort,” Harry threw in tiredly. He wished people would learn to speak his name already.

“- had given me the task,” Malfoy continued as if he had not been interrupted, “to kill the Headmaster. If I failed, my parents would die instead.”

Everyone gasped; they had not known this part of the story. The Gryffindors had always just assumed that Malfoy had been proud to do his Lord’s bidding, but had chickened out when it came to actually committing murder. Cylene had simply accepted what little her husband would tell her and had let it rest, for the sake of both their peace of mind.

“I was desperate. I tried and tried to repair the connection between the Vanishing cabinets, and I kept failing. I was, of course, blaming the Dark Lord and you, Potter, in equal parts for my misfortune – the one for giving me this task in the first place, the other for always trailing after me and killing any hopes of success.

“And suddenly, here was my chance to stop you. To scare you away so that I could finish my task in relative peace – undisturbed, if not exactly with graceful composure.”

He looked Harry in the eyes with a serious expression.

“I originally just intended to scare you by playing the dominant; imagine my surprise when it turned out you wanted just that! I admit that I soon came to enjoy what we were doing, and though the knowledge that it was you I was paddling; and fisting; and making gag on my cock-”

Ginny grabbed Harry possessively. But he noticed that her hands were sweaty where they touched the bare skin to which his scant clothing provided easy access. It seemed that Malfoy’s colourful account of that night was rather stimulating her imagination.

Malfoy didn’t seem to notice.

“- was an added bonus, I soon stopped thinking of what we were doing in terms of humiliation or scaring-off. It was fun. Nothing more and nothing less.

“Then Theo walked in.”

Malfoy stopped his account to tiredly rub his face with one hand.

“Theodore Nott, at the time, had never met the Dark Lord personally and still was an ardent supporter of all things Dark. I knew the moment he saw us that he would report the incident to his father and word of it would soon travel all the way to the Dark Lord’s ears. As I saw it, I had only two choices: try and shut Theo up, or present myself in a truly Dark light.

“There really wasn’t much of a choice when you think about it. If I chose to shut Theo up, I would have saved my arch enemy’s reputation; still have said enemy stalking me, one way or the other, endangering my mission and the lives of my parents; I would have to constantly be on my guard against Theo – or shut him up permanently.

“I am not good at obliviating people – I’d have had to kill him. I didn’t think I could do that. And Potter had proven such a wonderful submissive – by no means slow or clumsy, obviously your memory is lacking,” he sneered, “I was quite sure his inflated ego would not suffer so much as a scratch if I fucked him in front of flashing camera lights.”

He was still sneering, but now it seemed to be directed at himself and his poor judgment rather than at Harry. Who was trying to recover from the shock of receiving a compliment, however underhanded, from Malfoy.

“So I made a split-second decision to add a deafening charm to my current spellwork and check up on the charm keeping your blindfold securely in place. Then I leered at Theo and invited him to get anyone who wanted to watch Potter being humiliated.

“They all came.”

Silence reigned after Malfoy finished his account. Cylene seemed torn between disgust and compassion; she was still holding on to Draco, but her hand on his back had stopped moving in soothing circles. She was sitting quite still, as if in a daze.

Finally, a sigh broke the silence. “I really am a naive little -”

Ginny, on his left, and George, on his other side, simultaneously thumped him on the head.

“What was that for?” Harry fumed, while the Malfoys were openly gaping at the three of them.

“You were going to say ‘freak’, admit it!”

“I was not!” Harry huffed indignantly. “I was about to say idiot.”

“Oh, that’s alright then,” George said and leaned back into the sofa again.

“Naive does not equal idiotic,” Ginny lectured, but she, too, seemed mollified with his answer.

Cylene could no longer watch silently. “You agree with the man who defeated the Dark – ” she shot Harry a glance “-Voldemort-” a pleased smile rewarded her effort – “when he calls himself an idiot?!”

Ginny grinned a little sheepishly while George looked unconcerned. “Harry knows he’s not stupid. If he were, he wouldn’t have survived this long.” The three Gryffindors looked down, all of them uncomfortably aware of the absence of another red-haired prankster.

“Staying alive has nothing to do with intelligence,” Harry said silently. “Only with the dumbest luck.”

“But being intelligent helps,” Malfoy pompously interjected.

Harry smiled a little. “I’m not saying I’m stupid. I couldn’t have brought down the Evil Git without Ron and Hermione, but neither could they have done it without me. And that has nothing to do with a stupid prophesy, but with my instincts and my very own brains, thank you very much!”

They all grinned a little. The atmosphere was noticeably lighter than just ten minutes ago.

“I think I never actually said it, Potter, but: Thank you for killing the Dark…Git.” A smile accompanied Malfoy’s words, but there was also honest gratitude in his eyes. “My father might be in Azkaban now, but at least my mother is free, and we are all alive. I have a lot to thank you for.”

The word Fiendfyre hung between them unspoken.

“So do I,” Harry finally accepted grudgingly. “You bought us time by failing to identify us when we were captured; and your mother did as much and more when she proclaimed me dead. I, too, am indebted to you.”

“But you are not even,” George stated with a frown.

“No, that, we are not,” Malfoy quietly agreed.

“Would you want to be?” Ginny’s voice addressing Malfoy was cool, her gaze calculating. Harry suddenly sat straight at attention. This was Ginny calculating perfect torture. Harry was exceedingly glad for his suppressive underwear at the moment. His Mistress scheming usually resulted in some fun hours of exciting new experiences and just seeing that look on her face made his body twitch in anticipation.

But why was she now focusing all her devilish attention on Malfoy?

The other man seemed as uneasy as Harry at the thought. He had not failed to notice Harry’s reaction to his wife’s tone and was seriously afraid of what it might mean for him.

“What do you consider ‘even’?” he asked cautiously.

But Ginny merely waved him off. “This is not about me. You boys might feel even when Harry no longer feels like a **** victim and you no longer feel guilt-ridden for spoiling SM for Harry. But how you get there, well, that’s really up to you, isn’t it?”

Draco didn’t buy her innocent act for one second. “But you do have a suggestion.”

“Well, yes…” Ginny said and looked at Harry a bit anxiously.

“Well?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in an attempt to look unconcerned.

Ginny still seemed a bit undecided. Eventually, George came to her rescue.

“Little s****r is probably even now becoming aware of the fact that her lovely plan of revenge can only backfire.”

Ginny glowered at him, but didn’t deny the accusation.

“Weasley temper,” Harry explained with a grin. “Very predictable, especially for f****y members. Gin is often fighting it, but not always successfully…” He trailed off, noticing a warning glimmer in his dear wife’s eyes.

“Oh oh, someone’s going to pay for his words before the day is over,” Cylene stage-whispered.

Harry winked at her. He and Ginny had both been waiting for a worthy occasion to christen some new toys. Looked like an opportunity had finally presented itself. They really should go out in company more often.

“So what was that ‘plan of revenge’?” Malfoy asked, still rather uneasy with the situation.

“Why, to reverse roles, of course!” Ginny spat.

“And you can surely see where that would go awry, can’t you, s*s?” George asked pleasantly.

“Too many problems to count,” Ginny admitted gloomily. “First and foremost, Harry, being not only a submissive, but also not a vengeful person by nature, would not enjoy humiliating Malfoy in any way, shape or form; then, we don’t exactly have the equivalent of a group of Slytherin yearmates here to watch; also, I dare say Malfoy’s self-confidence is a lot bigger than Harry’s and wouldn’t actually suffer much, no matter how one might humiliate him…”

Ginny trailed off, admitting defeat. It had seemed fair at first, but it really was quite a useless idea altogether and would certainly not help in setting things to rights.

“Draco should donate a goat.” Cylene’s matter-of-fact statement left them all flabbergasted.

“A goat?!”, Ginny asked. “Why the hell would we need a goat?” She could just see the headlines if Harry Potter, protégé of the late Albus Dumbledore, was known to possess a goat.

Potter upholding Dumbledore f****y tradition

Boy-Who-Lived accused of inappropriate charms on a…

“I like the idea of Malfoy buying a goat”, George declared, “but I fail to see how it solves our dilemma.”

Cylene rolled her eyes. “He would not be buying it for Harry, but, as I said, donating it. If I understand you all correctly, Harry does not want revenge so much as justice. So I am assuming that any large enough gesture of Draco’s that could be interpreted as repentance would be adequate. Correct so far?”

“Yes”, Harry conceded. That was pretty much how he felt. He admired Cylene for reading him and both Weasleys so well as to have come to the right conclusions about his character just on the basis of their words and interactions. “I do not want anything for myself, really. I just want to know that he damn well acknowledges that he was wrong in what he did! And, well, I suppose I do want him to suffer something for it. But not… not really pain, or humiliation. Just some money would be fine, really. – But I don’t want it”, he hurried to add.

Cylene smiled. “Then I guessed correctly.” She looked around at the still blank looks of the four wizards and witches at the table. “I am myself not well-acquainted with Muggle culture, but I have heard that donating is a very big thing in the Muggle world. If Harry wants Draco to … to repent…, but he doesn’t want to get anything out of it, then I say let him donate. Someone will be happy for it.”

It made sense. It was too tame, Ginny thought; Malfoy should be made to truly suffer. But she knew Harry wouldn’t stand for it. Worst case scenario, her dear husband would end up blaming himself and feeling all guilty about it. So what Cylene was suggesting actually sounded pretty good. But still… “A goat??”

Cylene smiled. “A friend told me about this Muggle organization that donates goats to poor families. See, by donating clothes or food, you help just the once and may also be destroying the local economies; but a goat can give milk for a long time and needs very little feeding. And if there’s a male goat around somewhere, the goat may even have young after a while and it can all become quite lucrative.

“Then there’s another organization that buys donkeys for midwives in poor, rural areas where they have to travel far between births and often don’t get there in time to…” She trailed off when George started laughing. “What?”

George wiped away a tear and tried to speak through his laughter. “It’s just… I suddenly had this really weird mental image of Malfoy riding on a donkey.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh a little as well, while Ginny got a rather speculative look in her eyes.

The next morning, Ginny woke up fairly early, while Harry was still sl**ping the sl**p of the mentally exhausted. She quietly slipped out of bed. Harry turned around, mumbled something, but fell asl**p again at her quiet “It’s early yet. Go back to sl**p, love.”

Ginny fire-called her mother, also an early riser, and promised to pick up the k**s in the afternoon. Then she went to prepare breakfast. She made all of it bite-sized and handy, put it on one large plate and carried it back to the bedroom. Humming quietly, she put the plate down on the nightstand, then opened the coffer of toys at the foot end of the bed and took out some ropes and leather. Getting back in bed, she snuggled up to Harry, then happily tied his hands behind his back.

“Ginny, wha…?”, Harry asked sl**pily, but not truly disturbed.

“Just tying you up, love”, Ginny said soothingly.

“Ah, that’s alright then”, Harry murmured before finally starting to catch on to what was happening. “Umh… Gin?”, he asked uncertainly. “Should I call you Mistress now?”

“In a moment, love”, she answered while stripping him of his sl**p pants. “You just lie there and maybe finish waking up.” She gave him a little smack on the arse to help him along. Harry groaned, but then obediently snuggled more deeply into his pillow. He watched lazily out of the corner of one eye as Ginny neatly folded the blanket and stored it somewhere out of his line of sight.

“Enough with the observations”, Ginny decided and put a blindfold on him. She lovingly ran her fingers through his hair and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. Ginny was fiercely proud of what Harry and she had achieved in their marriage. Harry trusted her so completely that he even let her blindfold him, despite his previous traumatizing experience with Malfoy. He knew that Ginny would never do anything like that to him.

Finished with her preparations, Ginny slid off the bed to admire her work. Harry lay on his belly smack in the middle of the bed, naked, blindfolded, with his hands tied behind his back. Just waiting for her to try out the new toy they’d gotten!

Ginny smiled and pulled on a rubber glove. She squeezed some lube into her gloved hand and approached her husband’s rear. Harry moaned deliciously when the cold, lubed fingers touched him and he poked his behind out to grant her easier access. Ginny laughed, delighted, and slapped his bare arse cheeks with her free hand. “Eager, are you? You’re such a slut, Harry.”

“Yes, Mistress”, he agreed meekly.

“Am I supposed to reward you, then, for such wanton behaviour?”

Harry’s lips curved into a smile below the blindfold. “No, Mistress. I beg you to please punish me for my misbehaviour.”

“That, I can do”, Ginny purred. Her fingers roughly entered him, making his body twitch in response. She stretched his hole quickly and efficiently, then pulled back. The new toy was suddenly in her hand and she slowly, but relentlessly inserted the platinum device into her husband.

Harry moaned and held still for her. She patted his back lovingly. A few touches to the toy that moved it around inside the man caused him to wriggle in pleasure under her appraising stare. Satisfied, she tied the other end of the tail hook to his hands. Now Harry’s every move would pull on the toy to further stretch his hole.

Ginny grinned. She sat back and took out a feather from a small case in the coffer behind her. “Try not to hurt yourself, love”, she warned. Then she attacked his bare feet with the feather.

The result was everything she could have hoped for. Harry was very obviously torn between helpless laughter at the tickling sensation and trying to wriggle away from it. Only, every move he made also moved the toy in him, which caused him to gasp and writhe even more. Ginny perched on the end of the bed behind him, occasionally tickling him with the feather, and otherwise just watching her lovely victim torturing himself with ever more wriggles.

Eventually, she decided to take a more active role in Harry’s torture. She slowly removed the hook and replaced it with a regular dildo.

“Turn around, love.”

Harry quickly obeyed and now lay before her on his back, his bound hands somewhat uncomfortably buried underneath him.

“Prop up those knees for me.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Ginny casually aimed her wand at the toy. A whispered spell started it moving on its own, thrusting into her husband at a brisk pace. Harry groaned in delight.

“Hush”, Ginny chided. “No further sound from you, or you will not be allowed to come.”

She could nearly feel his incredulous stare even through the blindfold. But then his lips closed in a determined line. Ginny smirked. Let’s see how far this determination will take you.

No longer happy to just watch her husband getting all the pleasure, Ginny knelt over him and slowly lowered herself on the straining hard-on sticking up between his bent legs. “Mmmmh”, she voiced her approval. Once fully seated, she started moving on top of him. Her eyes never left his face, always watching for an opening of his lips, a tightening of his cheeks indicating his impending disobedience.

But Harry kept his lips tightly closed. No sound emerged, though the man was sweating and writhing underneath her as though the hounds of hell were after him.

Wow, hot!, Ginny thought. She moaned loudly, her voice filled with all the lust and pleasure Harry was forbidden to express. His brows creased and he twitched, but still he kept his silence.

Ginny reveled in the power she held. It was completely up to her to decide whether Harry would climax at any point during their game. It was her decision to prolong his torture or to relieve him when she felt she had used him enough.

She smiled wickedly. And use him I will.

Ginny now focused fully on her own pleasure. She rode Harry, moving with need and passion on top of him until finally her climax overwhelmed her. She spasmed and gasped and felt all her muscles twitch.

“Mmmh!”, she finally sighed and dropped down to lie on his chest. Harry was still hard inside of her. “That was good”, she decided. “You’ve been such a good boy to let me use you as I please, without making any disturbing noises. I think you have earned a reward, don’t you? You may speak.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” Harry’s voice was strained. He seemed to be holding himself together by a thread. “Am I allowed to come?”

Ginny laughed, a pearly, clear laugh, that sent shivers down Harry’s spine. “Not yet, my dear husband. That would be way too easy, don’t you agree?”

“Yes, Mistress”, he mumbled, and Ginny could hear the despair in his voice.

“I’ll be kind and help you with that”, she decided and magicked a cock-ring onto him. The wizarding kind that actually staved off the orgasm no matter what. Harry moaned in equal parts pleasure and denial.

“Good boy”, Ginny said again and patted his head like a favorite dog’s. She climbed off of his torso and stilled the magical dildo inside of him.

“Am I allowed to make noises, Mistress?”, Harry asked hesitantly.

“You are”, Ginny confirmed. “I want to hear you scream”, she added in a low voice. Harry gasped. He seemed totally excited, waiting eagerly for what she might do to him next.

Ginny loved this game. She felt dangerous, strong and desirable when she dominated Harry. It was really fortunate, she reflected not for the first time, that she had walked in on Harry back then. Imagine if she had never gotten to experience this with him!

Humming happily to herself, she dug out her strap-on from the toy coffer and put it on. She also took out a couple of clamps to put on his nipples. Returning to Harry’s side, she placed them, accompanied by some loving caresses and a hot, steamy kiss. Then, of course, she just had to play with the things a little. “Those suit you so well”, she purred as she pulled on them. Harry whimpered. She knew he hated the clamps, but at the same time, they never failed to turn him on. Not that there was any need for that right now; he was quite turned on already. Didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy torturing him a little…

Eventually, Ginny was ready to leave Harry’s nipples alone, though of course the nipple clamps had to stay on. As did the softer ones she had put on his balls. Ginny smirked.

“Coming in, love”, she warned, then pushed her strap-on smoothly into Harry’s opening.

Harry groaned loudly, seeming to compensate for the long minutes when he wasn’t allowed to. Or maybe he just really was that turned on. Either way, Ginny loved the sound. She played with the angle a little until she found his prostate. That produced an even more delicious sound.

“Aaaah! Mistress, please…!”

Ginny reached out to pat Harry’s head consolingly, then started to move at an excruciatingly slow pace. She smirked evilly at the look of distress on his face. “Mistress”, Harry eventually pleaded again. “Please, I… I can’t…” He sounded utterly desperate.

“Too fast?”, Ginny asked cattily. “I’m so sorry, love.” She moved even slower.

Harry whimpered.

Ginny dragged out the game for a long, long time. It was so much fun to see him squirm and hear his begging!

“Do you think you deserve to be allowed to come now?”, she finally asked.

“Yes please, Mistress”, came the hopeful answer.

“Haven’t you forgotten something, love?” She was all predator now.

“Umh… what is it, Mistress?”, Harry’s puzzled voice replied.

Ginny went in for the kill. “Didn’t you make some highly inappropriate comments about my f****y’s temper last night?”

Harry gulped. Ginny could see his Adam’s apple bob and she had to fight very hard not to snigger out loud. Instead, she kept her voice stern and forbidding as she continued: “I rather think you have earned a punishment for that. Not a reward. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Harry’s voice was full of abject resignation. Ginny beamed. He was fully submitting to her, even now!

“Very well”, she said. “Your punishment will be this: You are still forbidden to come, but this comes off.” She removed the magical cock-ring.

Harry became stiff as a board. She watched his face intently, and she could see him fighting to keep himself back from climaxing right then and there. Usually, the removal of the ring signaled the end of his torture. It meant instant gratification as he was finally allowed to come. But not today. Fighting the trained reflex must be one of the hardest things Harry had ever done, judging by the grimace he pulled while trying to obey her order.

“That’s it, love”, Ginny cooed and softly stroked his cheek, “fight it. I know you can do it.” She feathered a touch to his inner thigh and smirked at his whimper of distress. She was so not helping him in his fight! And oh boy, was he fun to torture!

Deciding to step up the game, Ginny started moving her hips once more. Only this time she didn’t restrict herself to tortuously slow thrusts. Instead, she really put her back into it and harshly speared her husband with every thrust.

Harry started thrashing about on the bed. He whimpered, he moaned, he begged and finally – yes, he did scream. It was a strange sound, a strangled shout of mixed lust and utter frustration.

Ginny loved it.

She bent over and in one swift motion removed both his nipple clamps. “Come, love”, she whispered in his ear. Then she sat up again and thrust into him one final time.

Harry exploded. With a mighty groan, he arched his back and let loose.

Ginny watched, completely entranced, as the semen spurted out of him. Wow, talk about pressure!, she thought, somewhat impressed by the erupting fountain between both their thighs. She scooped up a bit of the gooey stuff from Harry’s chest and fed it to him. Harry obediently lapped it up, in between heaving gasps. Ginny smiled. She had worn him out. Poor dear.

Ginny extracted the strap-on and took it off. She slowly removed the remaining clamps, then lay down on top of Harry once more. A deep kiss accompanied the removal of the blindfold.

Harry owlishly blinked up at her. “You’re an evil, evil woman, Gin.”

“And you love me for it”, she said, grinning. She dragged the breakfast plate over onto the bed and fed Harry a ripe red strawberry.

“That I do”, he agreed and hugged her tightly to his chest.

A week later, Draco Malfoy was seen by some very puzzled shoppers herding a large number of goats straight down Diagon Alley – from the back of a patient, grey donkey. When they reached the Leaky Cauldron, the whole herd was portkeyed away to parts unknown. Later, it would be said that Malfoy had an air of dignity about him that hardly befitted his task. Others, however, claimed that at times his mask slipped and for brief moments, he could be seen wearing a relieved and rather proud smile.

The End

Updated: October 21, 2016 — 1:25 pm

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