Title: Soothing Strokes
Author: ldybastet
Characters: Severus Snape/Draco Malfoy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Adult in sexual situation with a pre-teen, corp. punishment
Kinks chosen: Chan, masochism, and caning
Word Count: 2351
Summary: It's Draco's first year at Hogwarts, and he knows what he needs to be a good boy and do well in school.
Author's notes: Beta-read by starkiller, all remaining errors are all mine.

Soothing Strokes

Draco never did anything bad in class. He might be unable to restrain himself from shooting a snide remark or a clever insult at Potter or one of his friends (something that Snape at least always let him get away with) but on the whole he limited his mischief to his free time. There was a purpose to it, a certain wish that it would lead to something... perhaps even that he would be caught, unpleasant and humiliating as that might be.

There had been the time when he'd caught Potter and his friends wandering around at night up to no good, but the old bat McGonagall had given him detention for that. No doubt because her precious Boy-Who-Lived had been caught in the act. Had it been someone else, Draco would have received points, he was sure. Bloody Gryffindors!

If it had been Snape he'd told about it instead, then he would have been rewarded. One way or another. Snape was stern and imposing, an impressive man full of authority and smouldering glares. He also seemed to favour Draco, perhaps even like him. Draco was pleased with that. His father's old friend treated him like a Malfoy, while still demanding that he did well in school. Like Father did.

Father... Draco missed him. That was the bad thing about starting at Hogwarts. A lot of the kids looked up to him, followed his lead in everything, and that was certainly nice, but to whom would Draco look up now?

He looked down the corridor. It was lit by torches, and as the flames flickered and danced, curiously shaped shadows moved over the walls, giving it an eerie atmosphere. Or perhaps that was because he was supposed to be in bed like a good boy, not roaming the hallways in the dungeon? But Draco wasn't a good boy, he could feel it. Not anymore. Not yet. He would be again if his plan worked, though.

Draco fidgeted slightly where he was waiting behind a statue. This could be a very bad idea. It could backfire terribly, and he could be sent back to the dormitory with no more than a scolding and perhaps detention. But it had been three months now, and he was itching inside. Longing. Oh, he really didn't want it, he told himself, but he still couldn't stop thinking about it. And how could Snape not see it? Draco would give him reason to not ignore him anymore.

When footfalls echoed between the walls, rapidly closing on him, Draco took a deep breath and stepped out into the corridor. Now was the time!

He swaggered towards Snape's door, the door to his private quarters, not his office, faking a confidence he didn't feel. His stomach fluttered far too much for it to be genuine. Draco was nervous, he realised, not at all an enjoyable feeling, and he almost hid again before Snape could see him. The problem was that then he would have to wait again... and the longing only grew stronger with time. Perhaps he could wait until he was home again, until Father had time to be annoyed with him? But it was too long. Besides, Draco was a Malfoy, and Malfoys took what they wanted, didn't they? Or at least manipulated others to get it.

Draco moved on as the steps came steadily closer behind him.

He reached up and knocked on Snape's door, fully aware that no one would answer it, not from inside at least. He'd thought long and hard about what he could do - a prank? But that was so lower class! Writing something on Snape's door? And do what, insult him? That was the furthest away from Draco's wishes... In the end, he'd decided to just annoy him.

"Mr Malfoy," a voice purred silkily behind him and Draco felt a firm grip on his shoulder. "What brings you to my quarters at this hour, hm?"

Draco turned slowly and looked up into Snape's face. There was the inquiring arch of an eyebrow, the penetrating gaze of the dark eyes that now seemed to also possess the power to turn Draco's knees to jelly. But for the sake of his scheming, his very important plan, Draco smiled.

"I thought I'd ask if I could borrow a book or something. I find it so hard to fall asleep, and you'd be the one who'd have anything interesting..." Draco cringed inwardly at the sound of that explanation. Why hadn't he thought it over more and come up with a better one?

"You did, did you?" Snape's lips curled slightly at the corners, but he didn't look amused or pleased. "Then by all means, come in." The door opened and Draco stumbled over the threshold as Snape pushed him inside, none too gently.

He was invited into Snape's chambers! Well, perhaps not invited as much as dragged into them, but Draco didn't care. He was one step closer to his goal. He looked around the room he was standing in, taking in the sight of bookcases crammed full of books, a sofa and a table, two armchairs by the fireplace... There was no desk, and Draco wasn't sure why this surprised him. Perhaps it was just so natural to see Snape with a desk? Of course, he wouldn't need one here would he, not with the one in the classroom and in his office. Draco turned slowly around, and finally faced Professor Snape again.

"Satisfied, Malfoy?"

Draco nodded. No, he wasn't satisfied. Not at all. In fact he was feeling quite uncomfortable...

"Then perhaps you'd care to tell me which book you'd like to borrow?" Snape made a gesture towards the multitude of books at the other end of the room, all of them looking old, expensive, or important. Many of the titles were in languages that Draco didn't know.

"You don't have any novels?"

"If you want novels, I suggest you try the library, or ask your mother to send you one, instead of wasting my time." Draco felt his heart sink; this was not going well. "I'm tired of finding you hovering around me every time I turn around. You're nothing but an annoying brat, no matter how much your father spoils you! You should be in bed right now, or doing your homework." Snape narrowed his eyes slightly. "Have you done your homework, Mr Malfoy?"

"No," Draco lied, meeting his gaze straight on. "It was boring."

Snape held his gaze a little longer before he spoke again. "I should write to your father. He'd punish you for this attitude."

"Yes, he would. Something that you wouldn't dare," Draco declared haughtily.

"Why, you insolent, little--" Snape grabbed him by the arm. "Your father can't protect you now. His arm doesn't reach you here, and you will get what you deserve."

Draco shivered at the tone of Snape's voice. The man was angry now; Draco had pushed him too far, or far enough for his own purposes. Snape was right, Father's arm couldn't reach him at Hogwarts and that was Draco's problem. He found himself being dragged towards the sofa, where Snape pushed him down - first to his knees in front of it, and then face down onto the seat.

"Do you know what happens to naughty little boys, Mr Malfoy?" Snape asked him, his voice taking on a smoother tone, but no less threatening because of it. Draco nodded, not trusting his voice. Yes, he did know. His father had taught him that long ago.

"Good. Then I can only surmise that you must have known that before you came here tonight, before you decided to be a naughty little boy?"

Draco nodded again, shivering slightly as suddenly, his robe was lifted and bunched up to his waist to reveal his lower body. "Yes, Sir," he whispered. Oh, this was so good... Draco hoped that Snape wouldn't stop now.

Snape gave a low snort at that. "I'm not surprised. Decadent Malfoys! Starting at a rather young age aren't you?" He pulled Draco's underwear down to his knees.

Draco didn't understand what Snape meant by that, and before he had gathered courage to ask him, the line of thought was broken by Snape's next words.

"Accio cane."

Draco whimpered. Oh Salazar! It would happen. He would finally get it again... but he was afraid, too. Would Snape make it feel good? Would he make his bottom ache and burn for days? Draco hoped so. His stomach was aflutter with butterflies, his groin tingling from anticipation, making his prick hard. This would be the first time anyone but Father caned him.

"I hear that you know what it will do to you," Snape said smugly and made a few practice swings in the air, the whooshing sounds making Draco tense up and start slightly. Other than that, he held still, staying in the position in which Snape had placed him. He didn't dare move now. "Lucius has used it on you then?"

Draco nodded.

"Often?" The cane swished through air again, and Draco moaned. "And now you miss it." It wasn't a question, but Draco found himself nodding in response once more.

The first stroke was pure agony. At first, it wasn't so bad, but the pain just increased, burning brighter on Draco's skin and he cried out. The second was less of a shock to his body, but no less painful.

"Having trouble concentrating on your schoolwork too?"

"Yes, Sir," Draco replied breathlessly.

"We can't have that. We must make sure that you learn as much as possible, and get a good foundation of learning. Those O.W.L.s may seem far away now, but they will soon be upon you."

Snape gave him another stroke of the cane, then another and another, and Draco cried and whimpered, his hands grabbing the seat cushion of the sofa hard. He knew better than to move out of position, even though his body moved forward, pressing against the front of the sofa with every cruel stroke. His arse was aflame, the back of his thighs burning as well, because Snape had not restricted the use of the cane only to his buttocks, but also hit the very sensitive area where thighs and buttocks met.

"Please," Draco sniffled, his cheeks wet with tears. At the next stroke, he cried out again, then moaned in the pause leading up to another. It felt so good; the pain that washed over him, building up until he thought he'd burst only to slowly diminish... and then there was another stroke from the cane.

"Please what?" Snape caressed his hot buttocks with a cool hand, soothing them, perhaps also following the line of a welt with the tip of a finger.

"Please, Sir," Draco managed and pushed back against the hand. He didn't know how many strokes he'd received. Snape hadn't made him count them. But he did know that he would have a very hard time sitting down in the morning. It was perfect. Father couldn't have done it better, Draco thought.

He felt the finger stray down between his buttocks, drawing a line from his tailbone down to his tight balls, and Draco couldn't hold back the moan even if he had tried. That was a new sensation! It had felt so good... strange but good when the tip of the finger had brushed over his secret hole. And hadn't Snape moaned as well, or perhaps Draco had imagined that?

The hand withdrew, and Draco whimpered again as he felt the cane against his bottom once more. He wasn't sure if he could take more - he wasn't so used to being punished anymore - but he didn't dare beg Snape to stop. He sniffled again as more tears flowed and his nose started to run. He was throbbing all over now, arse, thighs, hands, and prick. Oh, he needed to rub harder against the sofa... the pleasure of the friction mingled with the pain that Snape dealt him, and his moans grew louder.

But suddenly, Draco was pulled up. Snape had sat down on the sofa next to him, and now he was pulling Draco into a sitting position in his lap. Draco hissed as the coarse material of Snape's robes rubbed over the over-sensitised skin of his arse, but he liked the feeling of the strong arms wrapping around him, holding him close. Soft lips kissed his cheek, kissed the tears away, and a hand moved slowly down his stomach and then... Oh Salazar! ... it rubbed over his engorged prick. Snape's long fingers coaxed and teased, wrapping around him, then ghosting over his straining prick and his balls.

Draco turned his face slightly to bury it against Snape's neck and arched up into the glorious caresses. Never before had anyone but he himself touched him there, and it was wonderful, better than it had ever felt. He couldn't think anymore, couldn't speak, as he noticed when he opened his mouth to beg for more and nothing but another moan came forth. His feet felt funny, and his toes were curling.

As he moved against Snape's body, he could feel something hard prodding against his hip, then against his buttock... Snape's breaths were more laboured now, but Draco didn't care. All he wanted was to get more. Then Snape did something that felt so wickedly good, and Draco cried out again, his body arching taut as a bow, and he could see sparks of white behind his closed lids. When the tremors were over, Draco relaxed against Snape, leaning close and breathing in his scent while his heart slowly stopped pounding in his chest. That had been glorious!

"Professor?"

"Yes?" The reply sounded rather breathless thought Draco.

"I think I'm going to be naughty more often from now on."

"I think we can find a cure for that."

"Every time?" Draco sounded hopeful.

"Every time, Draco."

Draco liked the sound of that and brought his arms up to close around Snape's neck. Perhaps he wouldn't miss Father so terribly while he was at Hogwarts after all.