Black and Silver Main

Possession's Law

            His voice was something between a growl and a purr, "You're my beautiful whore," and it made my stomach quiver and my cock twitch even without the the thin hand, (much stronger, I knew, than it looked,) caressing my throat with just the subtlest, most delicately implied threat.
             I breathe- exhale as if shrugging off the last of my tattered old cocoon, my eyelashes fluttering, I am almost aching hard inside my pants, soft cloth suddenly rough, abrasive- "Yes," my voice, barely heard, straining with want and need.
             He half smiles, smirks; sneers, his thumb comes up and brushes my lips, ungentle, so welcome, I hear my little whimper, and his soft chuckle, then he forces that digit into my mouth and I gasp as my lips part, and I suck.
             "You wish that you were sucking something else, don't you, my boy?" he asks, though of course he knows the answer already, and his eyes spark darkfire to sear me as I murmur, "Yes, sir," around his thumb, and then it is pulled out of my mouth, and a stroking touch, slick with my spit, trails up along my cheek, as his voice, even softer now, demands, "Tell me what."
             I feel my face burn as I blush, but I answer him, too, without hesitation, "Your cock, Sir, I want to suck your cock," and now it is my own words making me twitch, but not half so effectively as his hand stirs me, as he tangles those long fingers in my hair that he calls silken, pushing me, as if I need the urging or the command, to my knees in front of him as he sinks back, sitting, into his tall chair.
             His robe parts under my questing, trembling fingers, and his pants as easily undone beneath, and then I have my prize in hand, seven and a half inches, velvet, circumcised with a darkly plum head, a drop of succulent clear fluid beaded at the tip, beckoning me- I do not resist, but bend close, my tongue flickering over the surface and tasting his essence of salt and lust, and he moans, very softly, his hand tightening ever so slightly in my hair.
            I lick slowly, side to side, painting swirling circles with my tongue around the head, then down the shaft of it, and back up, holding and stroking with my hand on the underside at the same time, then back to the head of his prick, and he moans again, and louder, as my lips slide around him, and I moan with him- neither of us wants to wait another moment, I can tell, as I look up at him, his head is thrown back and he moans as I tongue the slit one last teasing moment, and so I do it, then, taking his cock into my mouth and sucking him in, swallowing almost all of it, I can never manage that last inch, beautiful whore or not, but the head is buried in my throat, and he shudders.
             My own cock is so hard in my pants that it hurts, now, throbbing in sympathy with his, and this is so very sweet, and right- I am exactly, for these moments, where I belong, and I don't hold back, wanting what I want, what he wants too, what we need- he groans deep as I suck him and stroke him and fondle his balls, his grip on my hair tightens harshly now, and it hurts, as he pushes my head down hard, forcing his cock into my throat so deep I gag, over and over, and I choke, lightheadedness tickling behind my eyes- his hips thrust and he uses my mouth, fucks me like that, while I try to gasp through my nose, and still try to lick and use my tongue as much as I can, and ache, how I ache.
             He grunts and his balls draw up, his prick is pulsing, and I can feel his climax beginning, as he arches up, and I pull my head back, which he allows, until just the last inch of his cock is in my mouth, suckling as I stroke the rest of his prick with my hand, and the hot spurts of thick salty cum fill my mouth, the taste of everything I want against my tongue, and I shudder in an echo of his tremor, and I swallow.
             He finishes and I lick him clean, gasping to get my breath again, then I kiss the head of his cock, and I tuck it back into his pants, looking up at him, licking my lips; he bends and picks me up as if my weight is less than nothing to him, and pulls me against him, onto his lap, as if I am a child, and he kisses me, then.
             His tongue invades my mouth, almost gentle now, tasting me, tasting his own seed in my mouth, and I hear my helpless, needy whimper, one of his arms is around me, and the other sliding under my robe, over my trousers, caressing, fondling the bulge of my cock beneath the fabric, and then he presses down, almost too hard against that sensitive flesh, rubbing me, and stroking.
             I groan, and my eyes slide shut, and his hand finds a quick motion, and an eternity, all of fifteen seconds later, I die, I shudder, I explode, the ecstasy overwhelms me from my balls, erupting from my quivering cock, shuddering all through me, and still he kisses me, until I am spent, until there is only the sticky wetness around my deflating cock inside my undershorts, and, then, he breaks the kiss, but holds me against him, still so gentle, so warm, his hands stroke my arm, now, my hair that he had been pulling, and he presses his face against my temple, and I feel his smile though my eyes are still closed- his whisper, "So lovely, and -all- mine."
             I drift off in a daze of bliss, knowing what he is truly saying is, *I love you,* though he does not say the words; it is an hour later that I wake, and still he is holding me, like that. I blink my eyes open and smile at him, and he smiles back, we share that moment of mutual amusement, and then he sets me on my feet even as I move to stand, a last touch, his hand against my cheek, my shoulder, gone.
             "Tomorrow?" I ask, hopefully, and he nods, almost the same sneer, now, "Of course," his soft reply. I step back, straightening my robe and my hair, and picking up my wand and books, I step towards the door of his office, and he speaks again, "Goodnight, Draco" and I nod, hand on the doorknob, "Yes, goodnight, sir, Professor Snape," and then, I go out, into a very good night, indeed.