Daily Deviant
- there is no such thing as 'too kinky'
Kinky Kristmas Fic: Solstice (Severus/Narcissa) 
22nd December 2010 12:00
Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: [info]inamac
From: [info]pre_raphaelite1

Title: Solstice
Characters/Pairings: Severus/Narcissa, Others implied (including Lucius/Cissa and Bella/Cissa)
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Included: Pony!Play, partial transfiguration (tails!), bondage, voyeurism, group sex, nipple piercings (extant), submission, adultery (of a sort as Lucius is willingly involved)
Other Warnings/Content: lovely pregnant! Narcissa
Word Count: 2800
Summary/Description: In 1979, Voldemort brings his chosen together to celebrate the Solstice... with some pony!play.
Author's Notes: Happy Christmas and Blessed Yule, #33! I was so pleased to get to write something I hadn't before! It was a great adventure, though it was one in which Voldemort rather clearly decided that he was involved, but one in which I was simply not awesome enough to be permitted using his name. Still, I hope you enjoy it and it at least pings on some of your kinks.
Much love to my beta C and to Rowan for being patient with me when illness and Voldemort kicked my chubby, nonpureblooded arse.




He was pleased with how this was progressing.

The Manor had never looked finer. Crisp damask drapes hung at the sides of crystal clear windows, the estate visible beyond dusted with white and the occasional sprinkle of berries or needles of green peaking their way through the snow. Inside, the ballroom glowed golden, mood as effervescent as the champagne that filled the goblinwrought goblets. The floors gleamed nearly to mirrors, its surface now swept by green satins and blue silks; the mirrors themselves caught the light of a host of candles and stretched their bright glow into eternity. And all through it, the best of Britain spun and led and bowed.

The brisk air was heavy with the strains of familiar music, the rise of trumpets and the strum of harp, the peal of bells and curl of horn, the slide of violin and the pulse of drum. The white-wigged musicians were occasionally joined by voices too often raised in curses, but now lifted in song. And as Rodolphus' voice became once more distinct above the rest, his Lord chuckled. This was the glory they were fighting for, the return of wizarding Camelot where the pure could enjoy their lives free of the filth of magical thieves and imposters. Where evenings could be spent dancing and dining with others who shared the same pride in family and in lineage, instead of purging the populace of the weak and diseased.

Seated at one side of the room but at the center of the white and gold wall, he watched them steadily, dressed for the occasion in robes of such deep green they are nearly black. They draped with tailored finesse and a languid confidence over the edge of his chair, their hem trailing over the floor and over the woman who curled there, leaning against the side of his chair. He reached down to caress the heavy black tresses, drawing forth a contented sigh from her. Pleased that she finally knew better than to move or ask for more, he continued the absent caress. Perhaps he could turn her full time into a pet- but no. He quellled that thought as quickly as it came. That would be such a waste of her sheer bloodlust. She was an effective tool, but never one that he would want to temper, only direct. Perhaps next at her cousin or that halfblood who spoke to loudly against--

But his thoughts were interrupted by the quiet jingling of bells, the sound echoing in the room gone silent now. Just on time then, he realised. At least Malfoy was punctual. Like the rest, he turned his attention and his gaze, sharp and expectant, to the doors at the south end of the ballroom. With an elegant swoop of his wand, they opened. A rippling gasp moved through the crowd at who, at what stood beyond them. And he smirked.

Narcissa and Severus, skin bare but for bands of black leathers with gold buckles and a cascade of round brass bells. Their arms were bound behind them, practically hidden behind their backs which were forced spruce straight. Her breasts were tipped pink and their size enhanced by leather straps above and below them, pressing them together into far more than their usual small curves. His lightly scarred chest was cinched to match, though his flat nipples were pierced through with gold rings that caught the candlelight. His cock jutted proudly above a smaller circle of leather that was buckled behind his balls. The two of them were harnessed together, only the softest of breaths separating them. Each were fastened into an elaborate bridle: black blinders flanking their eyes, resting just at their cheek bones; bits snugly set between their teeth, glistening faintly with moisture; and a high plume rising above their banded manes.

A quiet click from their trainer and they stepped forward in unison. The bells quivered and jangled, hesitant then stronger as the next step kept them moving, then the next, and the next. Their curved forms of their metal shoes clopped over the wood floor, low and echoing. Once they began their parade through the room, the glory of their tails became visible. A fine bit of spellwork, these additions. Long and trailing, their tails shone with care and nearly reached the ground. His, straighter and thicker; hers, soft and floating. Each was woven into a careful braid from where it grew from the lower back to just below the curve of arse; from there on it was left loose. He expected that would make the rest of his plans particularly... enjoyable.

He waited while they made a complete circle around the room, driven with surprising expertise by Lucius. Less surprising was that more pressure was needed on the rein that clipped to Narcissa's bridle. There was never any doubt to anyone who ran that marriage, so placing her under her husband's direction was a risk, and a challenge. One, he thought, which she was rising beautifully to, but one Lucius would no doubt pay for later. Quite ideal all around, really.

The others watched the pair with a mix of admiration, jealousy, and open lust. All of it was fully merited, he knew. These were his pride, his pleasure, today. And as they celebrated the darkest of nights and the promise of light returned, these two, more than the rest, deserved their place as both object and symbol. Severus as the darkness of winter's midnight, the unyielding sharpness of by trees who curl their branches in stretching grasps to the heavy moon beyond. Narcissa, the winter's dawning morning, the glitter of thin sunlight on crystalline snow. Both stained by the warm glow of embers across their cheeks; pride warring with exposure. Yes, this was exactly what he wanted.

As they were pulled into a stop before him, presented for inspection and use, he allowed himself a long moment without response, waiting for that collective catch of anxious breath, before he finally rose and stepped down from the platform, leaving Bella frowning behind him.

“Well done, Lucius.”

Lucius gave an elegant bow, “Thank you, my lord.”

He nodded his approval then turned his attention to the two more immediate interests. His gaze settled on her face for a moment, smiling at the clench of her jaw, the press of her teeth around the dark bit.

"Ah, my dear. You look exquisite." He trailed one elegant hand down the bound lengths of her unmarred arms, over snug leather and tied lacings. "What a proud filly you are. See that tip of her chin, my friends? It rises against the reins with such spirit.”

"I think the other evidence at hand shows she's less of a filly now, my lord,” murmured Lucius, still holding the long reins behind her and Severus.

He laughed, soft and hissing, then his fingers found the small starting swell of Narcissa's belly below the breastcollar, caressing it with the faintest of touches. She immediately shied from his touch with a sharp jolt of bells, forcing Severus to sidestep before Lucius could correct her.

“Still so skittish, my dear? You seek to prove him wrong do you?”

She breathed out a heavy huff, eyes a bit wide but she knew her place and stepped back before him. The other half of the pair, dark and wary, moved silently with her.

“You could take such lessons from our dear stallion here. He's been very well schooled.” A few people in the room chuckled as he lightly patted Severus on shoulder; it was Narcissa, after all, who had been Severus' original trainer.

He tipped his head just a little, looking over Severus. “Well-mannered today, aren't you? Hoping to compensate for her? Or has Lucius simply cinched your balls too tightly?” Severus' dark eyes narrowed in anger but he managed to keep from making any noise of objection. “I suppose we'll see if that's the case.”

Stepping back, he addressed Lucius. “Unharness them. Our mare here needs servicing.”

The wide-eyed stare of shock from both of these... ponies made him chuckle, and he turned back, sweeping into his chair once more.

Lucius knew better than to hesitate and, indeed, looked rather eager for this prospect. He stepped forward and, quite rightly, began by unclipping Narcissa and leading her forward a few steps then tugging her down towards the floor. She resisted with a hiss and a loud stamp of her foot. Lucius slapped her arse sharply with one end of the leather reins.

“Down, mare.”

This was met by a swift kick to Lucius' shin. The trainer should have seen that one coming; he certainly did, as did some people in the crowd judging from the low curls of laughter wrapping through the air. Lucius' expression twisted and his hand raised again.

Lucius.” His hand froze.. “One should consider the merits of enticement or gentleness rather than outright force, when training... anything. And one shouldn't take out their anger on a creature who is obviously.. frightened.

Narcissa's flash of anger was leveled at him now but only for the briefest of seconds then her chin lifted proudly, defiant against the accusation of fear. “Good girl. Now, ask her again, Lucius.”

Lucius' voice was tight, but mostly controlled. “Down.

With a grace born of generations of purity, she slowly lowered herself to her knees, her tail pooling behind her in gossamer eddies. With a flick of his wand, Lucius positioned a low, narrow bench in front of her. With another, the long rein split into a long Y, metal clips at all ends. The single end was snapped onto a ring at the front of her breastcollar. He pulled her down over the bench by it, so her breasts hung over its edge, her upper body supported by the padded oak surface, and the small swell of her belly curving behind it. With little flourish-- Lucius really had to focus on his presence more--, he passed the short leather strap under the bench. Taking up one of the two ends, he drew it to the outside of one of the bench leg before he fastened it around her left thigh. His hand drifted down the pronounced curve of her pale arse before he pulled the last end of the leather around and secured it in place. One final flick of his wand to shrink it, taking up the slack, and the mare was hobbled securely.

The atmosphere of the room had shifted in only these few moments. The lightness of admiration had be replaced by the pressing weight of breathless anticipation, a quiet feral intensity directed at the bound figure at his feet.

“Our stallion, if you please, Lucius.” He waited until Lucius had collected the lead still clipped to the bit, before continuing, “And do mind his hooves.”

Severus snorted, one booted foot raising in threat to expose the silver horseshoe fastened to the bottom. Lucius reached down to close his hand on the swollen curve of his balls and spoke in a lilting threat, “Mind yourself, unless you'd like to become a gelding.”

The hoof lowered with profound dignity.

“Far better, Lucius,” and he gestured with sweeping impatience for Lucius to get on with it.

He did, leading the stallion forward: careful, deliberate strides to his moon pale goal. Severus' cock was still hard, flushed above the leather cock ring, its veins pronounced as they twisted along the shaft. They paused, just behind her, and she gave a sharp flick of her tail. It slapped against the leather of his boots with an audible swat, but its movement also exposed the pink slit between her thighs, previously hidden behind the platinum fall of hair. The room took a collective breath and held it as Severus knelt into place, despite the mare's weak attempt to kick at one of his knees.

A small bit of transfiguration allowed Lucius to snap either end of the remaining rein to the back of the bridle, a ring nearly lost in the black hair, and to the back of the cinch around his waist. He took up a position behind the two, holding the reins tightly to keep Severus balanced and controlled. Narcissa struggled faintly, the hobbling keeping her from doing more than moving her weight from one knee to the other, though her tail lifted to one side, a clear invitation that she wanted this, that she was ready and eager to be mounted and fucked. Her glistening cunt was pale pink, lighter than the turgid hardness straining toward it, orchid and amaryllis coming together. He pressed forward, moving, shifting, until his cock found its goal and slid into her in one thrust. She keened around the bit as she was filled, then again when he paused. And from the strangled sound he made in response, she must have clenched down around him.

“Best give her what she wants, Severus,” he chuckled, though everyone knew it was a command not to be refused, including Severus who was hardly being told to do something he didn't want. The potion-maker's secret devotion had never been unknown, even before the turning trails of his mind were found, marked, explored. “What we all want.”

Relying upon Lucius' grip on the reins to compensate for his arms still being bound behind him, he started thrusting into her, hips working in sharp, efficient snaps. The sounds of their mating rose through the otherwise silent room: the wet plunge of his cock, the slap of skin against skin as his hips met her arse, the soft shushing of their tails over the wooden floor, the quiet huff of his exertion, her moans, stretching and echoing as she shuddered again and again. But above all of it was the bright ring of their sleigh bells, constantly jolted, pulsing their lewd holiday rhythm.

Bella squirmed on the floor next to him, and he patted her, reminding her of her place, keeping her from distracting anyone from the mating. She quieted, but he could feel the intensity of her attention on her sister, thrumming and relentless. Something to be used, exploited, enjoyed for the next of these, perhaps.

It didn't take as long as he expected it would, with the audience so fixated, or indeed, simply so extant. But Severus' eyes closed after a few minutes, and his nostrils flared as he neared his climax. Then he buried his cock deeply into her one final time, and his dark tail flagged behind him, signaling his completion. She whined and trembled hard under him, before slumping onto the bench, head lowered enough that the large white feather attached to her bridle brushed the ground.

They were given a moment to rest, to settle, then Lucius pulled back against the reins, forcing Severus to draw out of her, his spent cock half-limp and completely wet with their combined fluids. His head was bowed, chest still rising and falling quicker than usual.

“Well done. An excellent show, I think,” his dark gaze swept over the three of them: trainer, stallion, hobbled mare. Each met his eyes in turn, if only briefly: self-satisfaction, wavering pride, and continued defiance. “Perhaps one that is too soon over. An encore perhaps?”

Severus snorted, and he tipped his head at Serverus, “Not sure you can cover her again?”

Dark eyes rolled to the ceiling then back.

“Expressive,” he said sardonically as he rose to his feet. “But I had something else in mind. Tonight is a night of celebration, is it not, friends?”

He looked around the room, waiting until he was certain he had the clear attention of everyone. It took a few moments of patience considering a few people were still too interested in the kneeling figures, but the heavy silence and a nudge or two from a neighbor and soon all eyes were on him once more.

“We mark tonight, my friends, the longest night of our winter, before the light dawns once more, but this time it dawns on a new era. We have much to do in the coming months, many avenues yet to be taken, many obstacles yet to be removed from our paths, before we reach our destination. But these are roads that must be taken, and we will succeed. We will take our rightful places, our rightful dominance over the darkness that has so saturated our world and we will make it bright again. But such light can only be spread through determination, through clear adherence to our principles, through a united purpose.

“But- tonight is not meant for such things. Tonight we come together, united in celebration, in pleasure. And so I invite you then: find your pleasure here with our two strongest. Unite with them, honor their pride and their submission, for those who can give of themselves without losing their pride or spirit, no matter what is asked of them, are our best, our chosen.”

He nodded his head once and sat down once more to watch, to see what would be done, how each would respond, react, act, demand, and take.

He shouldn't have been surprised when it was Bella who moved first.
Comments 
23rd December 2010 02:26
Really hot. I've never read anything quite like it. I think seeing things from Voldemort's POV was an excellent decision. I love the way their personalities still shone through in spite of not speaking.
This page was loaded 28th March 2024, 23:43 GMT.