Chapter Text
This can’t be a good idea.
On the way Draco walked from the dark ally he apparated to and the back door of ‘Fantasy’, this was his only thought. The walk, unfortunately, was too short for him to change his mind. He took one last deep breathe in the cool air of November London, and tapped his wand on the seemingly solid wall in front of him.
The wall pulled to both sides elegantly like the curtain of an opera, revealing a spiral of staircase leading downward.
Draco walked down the stairs, and found himself just above a room that is weirdly familiar. It was a giant circular room, with its walls made of rough stones that were draped with red tapestry rimmed with golden tassels, a chandelier hanged low from the ceiling, giving out a light that was both warm and erotic. Directly across from where he stood was a burning fireplace, two long black leather sofa and a few smaller ones were placed on a thick red carpet that covered most of the floor orderly.
The room briefly reminded him of his old Slytherin common room. After all, it is a dungeon. Of a different sort though. A Slytherin common room with Griffindor colored decor, he relised, and pushed the idea aside. Red, black and golden had always been favoured by people with special interests. And since most wizards of the UK did go to Hogwarts, it really isn’t so surprising that the owner of this dungeon would design its common area with some reference to a Hogwarts common room. But it was making this seem more and more like a bad idea.
On the floor where he stands were evenly spaced doors, each leading to different rooms warded with top-level silencing and security charms, no doubt. He took the letter from his pocket to check one more time just for sure, and yes, room No.6 was booked for him.
It wasn’t difficult to find the right room as the doors all had a gigantic number with relievo of rose thorns and snake molded of gold on them, as he approached, the snake raised its head and asked: ‘Passsssword——”
‘Jobberknoll.’ he said quietly.
The door slowly opened, and he was able to see the man standing inside. His heart couldn’t help but skip a beat when he took in the appearance of the man.
It was a full grown man, his frame taller and more filled with muscle than he remembered him to be, showed off elegantly by the cream-colored shirt and matching light grey suit pants and waist coat, yet dangerously seductive, as he wore no tie or cuff links, and let his collar loose and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his collar bone and the lines of his strong arms were shown, and looked tantalisingly casual; his features more well-defined and somehow handsome in an unassuming way, black hair still untamable, but messy in a different way as if he just got out of bed after splendid sex rather than got up late for class; his expression was light and at ease, in stark contrast to the fact that they are in a dungeon for pain, and making him look even more cute, a bit bookish dorky also, due to those way out of style round-framed glasses.
And he looked up, his eyes clear and bright and so green that emeralds from the queen’s jewelleries would be ashamed. Just seeing those eyes did terrible things to him.
Ohhh isn’t this a bad idea.
‘Mr. Malfoy.’ the man said with a dominating tone that snapped Draco out of the easy-going image and his brief trance, and as if he knew what was on Draco’s mind, he explained, ‘You requested your Dom in the appearance of Harry Potter, to best serve our clients’ fantasies, we always wear our glamour from the beginning. Although it is unclear what your request of the age or other specifics are of me, so I took the liberty to use the glamour of Mr. Potter’s current age and the attire of my own selection. Will this suffice for today’s purpose of negotiation, or would you like me to adjust?’
‘It will suffice.’ Draco found himself saying.
The man nodded, and looked back down on the parchment that was in his hands. After a few seconds, as Draco still didn’t move, he looked back up and suggested calmly: ‘You may come in.’
Draco felt embarrassed by his own stiffness and silently took just one step forward. The door immediately closed right behind him with a dull thud, he couldn’t help but jumped a little at the sound, and instinctly looked back at it. When he looked back at the man, he saw him smiled as if he was humoured but without a thread of warmth in his eyes: ‘You may have a seat if you like.’
It was then Draco finally realised that he wasn’t in a room of torture, but more like a office, with a large carved wooden table and chair placed in front of a bookshelf, across from a set of sofas and coffee table. The man was half-sitting on the table with his long lean legs folded at his sock-clad ankle, gesturing towards the sofa that is directly across from him with a long roll of parchment that Draco recognised as submitted by himself a few days ago: ‘This may take a while, as I see there are some blanks left on your contract, in addition to the confirmation we usually have to make.’
Draco hesitated for just a brief second and took the seat as he was told, the man directed his wand and a cup of hot tea floated to Draco, and Draco took a sip. So the man began: ‘Mr. Malfoy. You stated in the contract that you decided to use our service to punish yourself for… past bullying?’
The warmth of the tea made Draco felt more like himself instantly: ‘Didn’t go to Hogwarts I take it?’
The man looked up at him at his come back: ‘Well, I in fact did go to Hogwarts, and your... “exchange” with Mr. Potter was rather public and frequent. So, just to be perfectly clear, you would like me to punish you for your past bullying to Mr. Potter as Mr. Potter?’
‘Has the punishment already begun?’ Draco raised an eyebrow, ‘Because it sounds to me that you are just stating the established fact again and again.’
‘Well, I need to be perfectly sure.’ the man smiled a little wickedly, then looked down on the parchment, ‘I see here that you didn’t give a safe word, was it because you are new to the dom/sub ritual and don’t have one, or…’
‘I don’t want a safe word.’ confidence left Draco again and he lowered his head a little, looking down into his tea, his long pale fingers traced the warm rim of the cup, ‘I will take any punishment you deem necessary.’
‘Unfortunately, that is not how this works.’ the man said, his looks a bit stern, ‘You will need to pick a safe word before we start.’
Draco bit down on his lip. This really is a bad idea. But when he found out about this dungeon, he just couldn’t resist. We make the best cocktail of pain, humiliation, and pleasure. Send us your deepest fantasy, and we will deliver. The invitation sent to him as a letter with the toys he bought so brazenly stated. Anything with Anyone, no judgement and bound by unbreakable vow to stay secret forever. His family did fell a little after the war, but he had worked their way back to a respectable position by throwing gold at both charities and politicians, and that in return, earned him even more money and guilt. Seeing Potter’s name in the top five pointed glamour list was the last straw. And he just… couldn’t resist.
He looked up into those green eyes and asked abruptly: ‘What is your real name?’
‘Excuse me?’ the man seemed surprised at his question.
‘What is your real name,’ he repeated, ‘I believe your real name will help me break the fantasy, thus suitable to be my safe word.’
‘Ah,’ the man tilted his head, his fringe shifted a little, making his lightning scar visible: ‘…James.’ he said, ‘The name is James.’
Draco nodded absentmindedly.
‘Alright,’ the man said, ‘Moving on. Says here that you would like to reenact what happened and be punished for it. Normally, ‘Fantasy’ do offer age-altering potions to make the experience authentic. But as you were a minor when you commited the bullying acts, it would be against the protocol of the club to exercise corporal punishment on a minor. So, the de-aging potion would only go as far back as you were seventeen years old, when you came of your legal age. The same goes for me, too. So when you request a scene, you could only request for age above seventeen for both of us. Clear?’
‘What if I want to be punished as a, say, eleven years old?’ Draco asked.
‘Trust me,’ the man said flatly, ‘I can make you feel like one without the potion. Now, is that clear?’
Draco couldn’t help but shudder as the man’s word sent fear and excitement down his spine, he clenched his teeth and nodded again. This time, the man said: ‘I don’t like repeating myself, and would appreciate you responding to my questions with clear answers, as a show of respect. And I would like you to refer me as “sir” when you are in this club and not in a scene. Let’s try this again. Was I clear about the age limitation?’
Right. The man is a dom. And Draco answered: ‘Yes.’ the man waited, and Draco reluctantly continued, ‘…sir.’
‘Well I’m sure I will help you get better at this.’ the man smiled and said with a glint in his eyes.
He then continued to confirm a few details Draco had provided on the parchment, established their routine that Draco would let the man see a selected memory of his by a adapted version of Legilimens, and they would reenact or just skip to the punishment the man decided upon. Finally, the man was satisfied with the information he got, and touched his wand to the parchment to sign the contract. Draco silently did the same when the man held the parchment out to him. The parchment then shot out a bright golden light that resembled chains and enwound the parchment, when the light disappeared, a crimson seal appeared on the parchment symbolising the deal was made.
For a brief moment, Draco felt like he just made a deal with the devil.
‘So,’ the man said slowly, his face cool as stone, ‘Would you like to start the sessions today, or would you like to make an appointment for next time?’
Draco breathed out as even as he could: ‘Today, sir.’
‘Perfect.’ the man smiled just a little, yet the smile did not reach his eyes as they were cold as ice. He raised his wand and the bookshelf turned to reveal a chamber, surprisingly large with almost everything inside, just a glance, and Draco knew there were a few things he don’t even recognise.
Draco felt himself froze for a moment, the man just looked at him with a hint of cold smile in his eyes: ‘Do you have a specific memory in mind, or would you just like to be punished for being a bully in general as a start?’
Frankly Draco just didn’t think he would be able to deal with the man invading his brain right now, so he forced out a word: ‘Latter.’
‘Then I would like you to strip before you enter the room.’ the man said casually, pointing to a low cabinet with a wand case on it by the entrance, ‘And do remember to refer me as sir. You will earn extra punishment for disrespecting me.’
‘Sorry.’ Draco murmured, and when the man gave him a pointed look, he immediately added, ‘Sir.’
‘That would be your last warning, given only because today is your first day, and you are outside the playroom.’ the man said, again leaned on the table, folding his arms, and Draco could feel him looking intensely at him from right behind him, ‘Also, when I give you an order, I expect you to follow immediately. Any delay would also result in extra punishment.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Draco said, putting his wand in the case first, ‘Sorry, sir.’
The man with his childhood rival’s face was watching him strip, and that naturally makes each moment long and a torture. But he was wearing too much and clothes too fine to strip fast. He untied his tie, took off his dark grey robe, and went on to unbutton his waist coat and shirt, and paused.
Sometimes he felt like his life is just running around in circles, because he always come back to the same thing —— the mark on his forearm. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remove it. He hadn’t shown it to anyone after his trial, and let the first time be showing it to a stranger wearing Harry Potter’s glamour is just too much. He probably stopped for a moment too long, and the man spoke: ‘You will not need your sense of shame, or you will regret it when it slows you from following my orders.’
‘Oh fuck it.’ Blood rushed to his face, showing only a shade of light pink. He looked back at the man angrily, ‘Why don’t you do it yourself. I’m sure there is a spell for that.’
For a brief second, the expression on the man’s face changed. It wasn’t that composed face of a dom anymore, Draco couldn’t tell what all the mixed emotions were, but there was anger for sure. He immediately knew he must have stepped out of line.
‘Disobedient, I see.’ the man quickly collected his emotions and said calmly, ‘there is indeed a spell for that, but I will not use it. You will receive 20 more for the disrespectful way you spoke, and you have my count to three to finish your order, or there will be another 20 added.’
Draco fought to keep down the urge to rebel. He doesn’t think very highly of himself when it comes to endure pain. So he put some effort into trying to strip as fast as he can as the man started to count, but soon he knew it was a lost battle.
‘That’s 20 more.’ the man said.
When he finally striped bare, the man gestured the chamber with his wand: ‘After you, Mr. Malfoy.’
Draco hesitated a moment before heading in, facing the man’s questioning look, he said: ‘Not… Mr. Malfoy. Just… Malfoy. He always called me that.’
‘Malfoy, then.’ the man easily complied, ‘And I will be Mr. Harry Potter for you once you cross the threshold.’
Draco walked in.