Happy Daft Day aeowen! Recipient's name:aeowen Title: It’s All About… Author:florida_minxie Rating: R Warnings: D/s, use of toys, mentions of cross dressing Prompt/Summary: Kinks requested: cross dressing, consensual D/s or BDSM… It’s a night of rituals and rites between Harry and Severus. Author's Notes: Thanks so much to the beta/content readers who also stepped up with me at the last minute… you guys are wonderful. About 1800 words.
It’s All About…
Harry runs his wand over his legs. More of the curled black hairs fall with each pass until finally his legs are as bare as his chest and underarms. All of him is smooth as the silk his Master prefers to see him in.
His body tingles; the residual magic dances across his body as he steps into the steamy shower. The heat of the water tints his skin pink as he stands there, letting the spray sluice over him. It soaks his hair and shoulders, trailing over his hips and groin and thighs to pool at his feet before spiraling down the drain.
Harry presses his hands against the tile, leaning forward to breathe in the contrast of the cold tiles warring with the humid air. Releasing a deeply held breath, Harry lets himself fall into the mental space he’ll need once he steps from the privacy of the bathroom. The strains of Handel, muted by the heavy oak door, match the beat of his heart. The pulses of water add to the symphony of sounds and emotions.
He reaches for the soap, the one made specifically for him, for this, and squeezes a large dollop into his palm. The scent of vanilla and butter and a hint of nutmeg fill the moisture-laden room. With sure, steady movements, Harry starts at the top, shampooing his hair. The long black length hangs to the middle of his back, weighted by the water and the white frothy suds. Small streams of the diluted concoction course down through the cleft of his arse to drip off his still fur covered balls.
Harry leans back, tilting his head so the jets of water hit his forehead and roll back, rinsing the black strands from root to tip. The large, deep purple love bite, edged with the crooked indentation of teeth, is easily glimpsed as his hair sways away from his body just moments before he stands straight again, ready to finish his task and join his Master in the other room.
Harry reeks of confidence and power and completeness; the same self-assuredness he shows every time his feet leave the ground as he weaves through the air on a broomstick is apparent in each of his mannerisms as he adds more of the pearly soap to his hands and begins massaging it into a lather down his arms, across his chest, through the thatch of wiry hairs at the base of his cock.
He reaches one hand behind him, spreading the cleaning bubbles over his arse and around his puckered entrance, a finger dipping into his hole. Wandlessly, he flushes his bowels out. Inside and out. Harry hears the mantra in his head as he shudders through the invasive magic; the seconds, less than a minute long, tick off where his insides clench tight to a point just shy of truly painful before he can move again, finishing the job set before him.
Harry gropes blindly for a towel. Sighing as he finds the soft fluffiness, Harry buries his face in the folds. He pulls the towel roughly across his skin, drying every crevice, every bend thoroughly. The pink of his skin deepens, his body radiating warmth and a rosy glow by the time he hangs to towel over the bar. Harry takes a moment, just enough for a few short, cleansing gasps of air, and steps to the door.
He tugs the creaking door open, the music strengthening, growing louder until the door is held open to its widest. His eyes fasten on the lean figure outlined in the candlelight. Releasing the last of his tension, he steps across the threshold and into his Master’s domain.
This is his ritual.
Severus lays out the necessities of the night. Next to the bench, placed in his exacting order, are velvet ties; a mug, shaving soap and brush; two straight razors and the leather strop. Further down, well within his long reach, Severus adds cotton cloths and soothing lotions.
Moving to the table by the bed, his stained fingers line up the body oils and lubricant. Lastly, to the side out of harms way, he hangs his pet’s white gown, the silk and lace transparent in the flickering firelight.
With a flick of his wand, Severus raises the level of the Water Music Suites until he no longer hears the water of the shower, until he can no longer invade, even in the slightest way, Harry’s private preparations.
Slowly Severus unbuttons his robes. Before the dark black is even hung in the wardrobe, he pops open the tight collar of his dress shirt. Turning from the cherry clothing cabinet, he opens three more buttons; the light smattering of chest hair is now visible. His fingers move swiftly as he rolls each cuff to his elbow. Using Muggle clippers, he trims back his already blunt nails, rounding them off until he is sure not to cause any small tears or extra unnecessary pain.
Severus blinks as the room is flooded with the light from the bath; his Harry is standing nude and proud within the doorframe, captivating him, stealing his attention away from other things, as he always does. He holds a hand out in welcome, silently calling his lover to him. Severus maneuvers Harry into position; the magical swing tilts back and Harry’s exposed groin and buttocks sit within his reach.
He waves his wand once then sets it to the side, presumably forgotten. Immediately the sounds of music filling the air fade away into nothingness as all of the light in the room focuses on a single point. Severus’ hands and Harry’s flaccid prick now stand out among the shadows.
He takes up the mug and brush; briskly he whisks the shaving soap into a warm lather and begins to coat the black nest of coarse hair with the white foam. He uses short, deliberate strokes. Severus smirks as Harry lets the first whimper leave his throat.
The mug makes a small clink as Severus returns it to the bench. His long fingers wrap around one of the blades. The light gleams and reflects off the sharp edge. Severus uses his free hand to gently move Harry’s awakening cock to the side as the other brings the blade into contact with Harry’s skin.
He drags the blade in a practiced motion. Harry’s length hardens more in Severus’ hand with each pass of the straight razor. Severus takes a moment to simply admire the hairless crotch before he wipes the remaining wisps of soap away.
Severus’ fingers move down and spread the cheeks of Harry’s arse wide. Harry moans as the cold steel steals along the cleft of his arse. Severus follows the blade with the warmth of the wet cloth. He keeps his hold, keeps Harry open, and opens a glass phial.
He holds the slender jar just above Harry’s ball sac and tips it gently to the side. Severus’ hiss matches Harry’s as the soothing potion dribbles over the wrinkled sac. He massages the mixture into the skin with a circling motion. Severus works his way up from Harry’s entrance to the bared skin around his prick.
Severus ignores the bob and twitch of Harry’s cock just as he disregards the throbbing ache of his own.
This is his rite.
Severus helps Harry to the bed and again positions him as he needs. He opens another phial and the scent of vanilla and strawberries fills the air. He starts at Harry’s shoulder and oils Harry’s body until it glimmers in the soft glow of candles and firelight. He stops his progress and teases Harry’s nipples, raising them to stiff peaks that will press against the silk and invite him to do more.
Harry moans and mewls in disappointment when Severus continues further down his body. He rubs along Harry’s abdomen and dips his tongue in Harry’s navel as his hand feels blindly across the bed until his fingers curl around the cool metal circle of Harry’s cock ring.
He holds the ring tight to warm it with his own body heat before sliding it into place. Harry squeezes his eyes shut as the band fits snug at the base of his shaft. Severus pushes at Harry’s thighs until Harry reaches down and holds himself open. The sounds of their panting, of harsh breaths that beg for more, fill the room as Severus selects yet one more phial- the last one in the row.
He covers his fingers in the slick lubricant, pushing two into Harry’s depilated entrance. Severus watches intently as his fingers disappear into the tight channel. He opens his fingers to stretch the ring of muscle as he pulls them back. Severus holds them still, nothing past the first knuckle hiding within his lover’s body, as his empty hand closes around the waiting plug.
Severus catches Harry’s eye as he sucks the silicone into his mouth. There is an audible pop as he pulls it free. He sinks it into Harry’s arse in one steady movement, his fingers skirting back only as the rim of Harry’s entrance clenches tight around the Muggle intrusion.
He tugs at Harry’s hips and guides him off the bed. Severus wipes his hands on the cloth rag and reaches for the gown while Harry steadies himself, finds his balance and grows accustomed to the device stretching his insides. Harry raises his arms and lets Severus direct the silk over his head and down his willowy frame, the hem of the skirt swirling just below the melding point of arse and thigh.
Severus kneels at Harry’s feet and holds the white lace knickers out. With one hand on Severus’ shoulder, Harry steps into them. Severus draws them up over calves and knees and thighs. He kisses the tip of Harry’s prick; his tongue swiping at the pooling precome, and then settles the panties into place.
Severus stands and takes possession of Harry’s mouth; his tongue invades and maps and tastes, accepting all that Harry willingly offers. Severus clasps Harry’s shoulder and pushes towards the ground. Harry follows the silent command and drops to his knees. His head lowers in submission and cants to the right to expose his neck. He lets a soft smile play about his lips as Severus slips his collar, pliant and supple and familiar, around his neck.
“You are mine.” Severus, his voice honeyed and dark, utters the first actual words of the night; the first time either uses more than a touch or glance to convey all that they desire.
“Always,” Harry says as his eyes drift shut, “Master.”