The Durmstrang ShipAuthor: centaury_squillCharacters/Pairings:
Igor Karkaroff/Viktor KrumRating:
strapping, sacofricosisOther Warnings:
voyeurism, wankingWord Count:
Igor Karkaroff decides that Viktor Krum is badly in need of discipline.
Viktor Krum stood naked on the deck of the Durmstrang ship in the cold morning air. Slowly, he swung his arms above his head, raised himself on tiptoe and stood poised for a long moment, displaying his powerful muscles, flat stomach, and taut buttocks. Then he dived into the icy water of the lake.
Igor Karkaroff let out a sigh of appreciation. Viktor was a phantastisch
youth, no doubt about it. His sigh was echoed from the bank. Startled, Karkaroff spun round, and saw a gang of Hogwarts teenagers staring at the ripples spreading out from the point where Krum had entered the water. Instantly Karkaroff's mood changed. What business had Viktor to display himself to all and sundry, flaunting his naked body at the watchers on the shore.
Frowning, Karkaroff stormed off the deck, pausing only to give curt orders that Krum was to be brought to his cabin the moment he returned to the ship.*
Viktor Krum stood, still naked, in front of his headmaster. His hands were clasped together, his head lowered. Water streamed from his sleek black hair and dripped onto the floor of the cabin.
"I vos only haffing my morning svim," he protested sulkily. "I must keep fit for the Tournament."
"Nobody disputes that, Viktor," Karkaroff said, "But I will not have you displaying yourself in such an unseemly manner. Half the Hogwarts sixth form were watching you from the bank."
"Really?" said Viktor, a pleased little smirk appearing on his face.
"In future," his headmaster pronounced solemnly, "you will take your swim in private. Climb down that ladder - " gesturing towards the porthole farthest away from the shore, "- and keep the ship between you and any Hogwarts spies. Do you understand? And there will be no, repeat no, displaying yourself on deck for those hormonal English teenagers to slaver over."
Viktor glowered at him. "But I - "
"Silence!" roared Karkaroff, bringing his hand down on the table with a ringing slap. "You will obey me in this. If you don't - " He paused, an evil gleam coming into his eye, then continued quietly, "- if you don't, you will be punished."
Viktor nodded sullenly and slouched out of Karkaroff's cabin, with none of the grace he showed in the air – or in the water.*
For the next four days Viktor Krum followed his headmaster's instructions scrupulously. Peeping surreptitiously through the porthole every morning, Karkaroff could see the Quidditch star obediently climb down the stern ladder and slip into the lake, breaking the surface with barely a ripple. And, later, he watched as Viktor swam back to the ship, grasped the sides of the ladder and hauled himself up on deck with a powerful heave of his strong young muscles.
But on the fifth day Viktor obviously tired of being so circumspect. Looking out from his cabin porthole as usual, Karkaroff missed the expected sight of Viktor climbing down the ladder; instead, he clearly heard a loud splash from the opposite side of the ship. Fuming, Karkaroff went on deck. He glared at the gaggle of Hogwarts teenagers on the near shore; seeing him, they made gestures of derision. Karkaroff pointedly turned his back on them, mentally vowing to have a word with Albus Dumbledore about the appalling manners of his charges. Moodily, he stared out over the lake to the sleek black head of Viktor Krum, sliding through the water like a seal.
When Krum clambered back on board, Karkaroff was waiting for him. He cut through Viktor's attempt at bravado with a curt "In my cabin, Krum. Now." He spun on his heel and stalked off, followed by a sullen, dripping Krum. A chorus of catcalls broke out from the shore.
Lips firmly compressed, Karkaroff led the way to his cabin, pausing only to shout at the youth lounging by the tiller.
"Karl! Come with us. And bring the strap."*
Viktor Krum stood staring at the handcuffs encirling his wrists, attached by chains to ringbolts in the floor of Karkaroff's cabin. He'd protested that he wouldn't try to escape, but Karkaroff had been insistent that the proper form of punishment be carried out, and that involved chaining his victim in place, bent over the vaulting horse normally used for the crew's exercise. The time-honoured ritual of shipboard punishment differed from the usual in only one respect: instead of being carried out on deck in full view of the whole ship (and, in this case, watchers on shore), this
flogging was to take place in the privacy of the headmaster's cabin.
All Krum's bravado had deserted him; his rather thick lips pouted, he looked about to cry.
"It is for your own good, Viktor," said Karkaroff, taking the leather strap from Karl. "You must be taught obedience, you know."
At a sign from Karkaroff, Karl dragged the vaulting horse forward and roughly bent Viktor over it, face down, his naked back and buttocks presented to Karkaroff's gaze. Karkaroff licked his lips, raised the strap, and brought it singing through the air, to curl across Viktor's bare buttocks with shocking force. At Viktor's gasp and involuntary jerk, Karkaroff's penis instantly hardened. He heard a low moan from Karl, who was obviously experiencing the same thing. Karkaroff took a quick decision. Handing the strap to Karl he said, with attempted nonchalance, "Continue the punishment, Karl. I shall... supervise."
Ignoring Karl's knowing look, he stepped back into the shadows, eyes fixed on the red stripe the strap had left across Viktor's buttocks. Karkaroff's hand reached for his cock through the convenient hole he had cut in the right hand pocket of his trousers on the day he first saw Viktor display his nakedness on the ship's deck.
Karl laughed quietly to himself, brought the strap slashing down in imitation of Karkaroff. Again it curled painfully around Viktor's naked arse; again Viktor jerked forward as if frotting against the vaulting horse. Karkaroff's hand tightened around his cock. He forced himself to relax his grip, toy with himself a little. Sliding his hand down his shaft, he lasciviously squeezed his cock-head, enjoying the moistness of precum sliding viscously over his fingers as he gloated over the pattern of stripes marking Viktor's pale buttocks. Smirking to himself, he slowly fingered his slit, imagining pushing a spunk-lubed fist deep into the youth's arsehole.
Karl was really getting into his stride now, the stinging blows came thick and fast, Viktor's involuntary thrusting mirrored by Karkaroff's hips jerking as he pumped frenziedly into his fist. The end came unexpectedly. Viktor, humiliated by sensing two pairs of eyes fixed avidly on his naked and rapidly reddening buttocks, nevertheless couldn't stop himself from coming all over the vaulting horse, in great shuddering gouts of spunk.
"You may leave us, Karl," Karkaroff said loftily, removing a sticky hand from his pocket and picking up his wand. "You have done a very good job, but I will take care of Viktor now."- the end -