THE "AFTER"
Draco's final words echoed in your mind as the night came to a close. "This is just the beginning, darling. By the end of this night, you'll know exactly what it means to be ours."
And as the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, you realized that he was right. You were theirs, completely and utterly, bound by the dark and twisted game they had played with you. And there was no escape from the hold they had over you. As the first light of dawn filtered through the windows of the Slytherin common room, the remnants of the night's revelry lay scattered around. The green and silver banners, now tattered, swayed gently in the morning breeze. The boys began to retreat, their predatory gazes softening slightly as the reality of the new day set in.
Draco stood back, surveying the scene with a mixture of satisfaction and contemplation. His grip on your chin loosened, and he stepped away, allowing the tension in the room to dissipate slightly. The other boys followed suit, their intensity waning as they gathered themselves. "We've had our fun," Draco announced, his voice calm and collected. "Now, it's time for you to rest."
Theodore moved to your side, his touch gentle as he began to untie the ropes that bound you to the chair. "You did well, princess," he murmured, his tone almost affectionate. "Now, let's get you to your dormitory." As the ropes fell away, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you. Your body ached from the intensity of the night, and your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Theodore helped you to your feet, supporting you as your legs wobbled. Mattheo approached, his eyes still gleaming with a hint of the night's mischief. "Remember this night, princess. It's a part of you now. A part of us." Tom's voice was softer now, almost caring. "We'll escort you to your room to make sure you're safe." Blaise and Enzo flanked you, their presence reassuring in its familiarity.
Together, they guided you through the dimly lit corridors of the dungeon, their footsteps echoing softly off the stone walls. The silence between you all was a stark contrast to the cacophony of the night's events. As you reached the entrance to your dormitory, Draco stopped and turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "Rest now, darling. You'll need your strength for the days to come." His voice held a promise of more to come, a reminder that their control was far from over. The boys watched as you entered your room, their eyes following you until the door closed behind you. The weight of the night pressed down on you as you collapsed onto your bed, your mind racing with the memories of what had transpired. The line between reality and the twisted fantasy they had created blurred, leaving you questioning everything. You lay there, trying to process the conflicting emotions swirling within you. Fear, desire, confusion, and a strange sense of belonging all fought for dominance in your mind. Sleep was elusive, your body still tingling with the aftershocks of their touch. As you finally drifted off into a fitful sleep, the memories of the night replayed in your dreams. The boys' voices echoed in your mind, their promises of control and pleasure a haunting refrain.
When you awoke, the sun was already high in the sky, casting bright beams of light into your room. The events of the previous night seemed almost surreal in the harsh light of day. You felt a strange mix of dread and anticipation as you thought about facing the boys again. You gathered yourself, getting ready for the day with a newfound sense of caution. Your body ached as you slowly rose from your bed, the morning light casting a stark reality over the events of the previous night. The memories replayed in your mind like a haunting melody, each echo of their words and touch imprinted on your skin and soul. You could still feel Draco's grip, Theodore's whispered reassurances, Mattheo's lingering mischief, and Tom's softer, yet equally intense, promises. The night had left marks not just on your body, but deep within your psyche.
As you stood in front of your wardrobe, you felt a mixture of emotions - fear, desire, confusion, and a strange, inexplicable sense of belonging. You chose your outfit carefully, wanting to regain some semblance of control and normalcy. You picked a soft, cream-colored blouse that contrasted with the dark undertones of your thoughts, and a pair of fitted trousers that made you feel secure. You added a simple silver necklace, a small pendant hanging just above your heart, a subtle reminder of your inner strength amidst the turmoil. Your reflection in the mirror showed tired eyes with shadows beneath them, a testament to the sleepless night and the emotional storm raging within you. You brushed your hair with deliberate, calming strokes, trying to ground yourself in the mundane act. Your thoughts kept drifting back to Draco's final words, "This is just the beginning, darling. By the end of this night, you'll know exactly what it means to be ours." You shivered, the reality of their hold on you sinking in deeper.
As you finished getting ready, you felt a resolve harden within you. You couldn't allow yourself to be completely lost to them. You needed to find a balance between the intoxicating pull of the night and your own identity. The Great Hall awaited, and you knew you would have to face them again, but you were determined to do so on your terms. With a deep breath, you gathered your belongings and stepped out of your room. The corridors were quieter now, the morning light casting long shadows as you made your way towards the Great Hall. Your footsteps echoed softly, a stark contrast to the previous night. You could feel the weight of the night's events pressing down on you, but you straightened your shoulders, ready to face whatever lay ahead. Trembling inside you made your way to the Great Hall for breakfast, you couldn't help but feel the weight of their eyes on you, even if they weren't physically present. The hall was bustling with students, their chatter a welcome distraction from your turbulent thoughts. You found a seat at the Slytherin table, trying to blend in and appear normal, but the memory of the night before lingered, a constant reminder of the control they held over you.
Then suddenly, Draco, Theodore, Mattheo, Tom, Blaise, and Lorenzo entered the hall, their presence commanding immediate attention. They took their seats right across you, casting occasional glances your way. You felt a chill run down your spine every time their eyes met yours. Draco’s eyes met yours across the table, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. The others watched you too, their expressions ranging from curiosity to possessive intensity. You forced yourself to focus on your breakfast, trying to ignore the lingering stares and the memories they stirred.
As you picked at your breakfast, Draco leaned over, his voice a soft whisper in your ear. "Remember, princess. You're ours now. There's no escaping it." You nodded subtly, acknowledging the unspoken bond that now existed between you and them. The dynamic had shifted, and you were caught in their web, unable to break free. The Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning commotion, but the atmosphere felt heavier to you, charged with an undercurrent of something darker. You tried to focus on your breakfast, but your hands trembled slightly, the toast in your grasp almost slipping. Across the table, Blaise noticed and smirked, leaning back in his chair with a languid grace. "Didn't sleep well, did you?," he drawled, his voice low enough that only those nearby could hear. His eyes glinted with amusement. "Don't tease her, Blaise," Tom interjected, his tone deceptively gentle. "She had a long night." Your cheeks flushed, and you kept your gaze down, hoping to avoid drawing more attention. But Theodore wasn't about to let you off so easily. He reached over, gently tilting your chin up with his fingers. "Look at us," he commanded softly, his eyes locking onto yours. "We want to make sure you're...adjusting well." "Just fine," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. The truth was, you felt a whirlwind of emotions - fear, excitement, and a strange sense of belonging all mixed together. Mattheo, sitting next to Theodore, grinned mischievously. "Good. Because last night was just the beginning, remember?" You swallowed hard, the memory of his words from the night before sending a shiver down your spine. "I remember."
The boys continued their conversation, occasionally including you but mostly discussing their own plans and inside jokes. Their casual dominance was a constant reminder of the shift in your relationship with them. As you tried to eat, Draco leaned in again, his presence overwhelming. "You know, you did well last night," he said, his voice a low murmur. "You showed strength. But remember, there's always room for improvement." "What do you mean?" you asked, curiosity and anxiety intertwining in your chest. "Simple," he replied, his eyes piercing into yours. "We'll be training you, molding you. You're part of our circle now, and that comes with certain expectations." Blaise chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't scare her, Draco. She's already done more than enough for one night." "Enough?" Draco shot back, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "We're just getting started."
The rest of breakfast passed in a blur, their words and subtle touches a constant reminder of your new reality. The dynamics at the table were intricate, a web of power and control that you were now caught in. Every interaction, every glance, every word seemed to reinforce your place within their group. As the meal came to an end, Mattheo rose and stretched lazily, his gaze drifting over to you. "Shall we escort you to your first class, princess? Wouldn't want you to get lost." You nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and apprehension. The boys flanked you as you left the Great Hall, their presence a protective yet oppressive force. Students parted ways, casting curious and wary glances at the entourage. You felt like you were walking a tightrope, every step carefully measured, every breath a calculated move in the game they were playing. As you reached your classroom, Draco paused, his hand lightly touching your arm. "Remember, we're always watching. Behave, and you'll be fine." The others nodded in agreement, their expressions ranging from playful to serious. You entered the classroom, feeling their eyes on your back until you took your seat in the class and the boys had other things to do.
The potions classroom was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. Professor Snape, with his usual air of authority, was already at his desk, preparing ingredients for today's lesson. You took a deep breath and tried to steady your nerves. The boys' lingering presence at the back of your mind was like a shadow that refused to leave. You found a seat towards the middle of the room, hoping to blend in and avoid further attention. As you unpacked your materials, you could feel the eyes of your classmates on you, their whispers like a soft buzz in the background. The incident at breakfast hadn't gone unnoticed, and now, in the more intimate setting of the potions classroom, it felt even more pronounced.
"Settle down," Snape's voice cut through the murmur, bringing the room to an immediate hush. He scanned the class with his piercing gaze, pausing briefly on you before continuing. "Today, we will be brewing the Draught of Peace. Can anyone tell me the primary ingredients?" A few hands shot up, but you remained still, not wanting to draw attention. Snape selected a Ravenclaw student who rattled off the ingredients with ease. As Snape gave further instructions, you focused on gathering the necessary components, trying to immerse yourself in the task at hand. As you worked, you could feel a presence beside you. You glanced up to see Draco standing there, a vial in his hand. "You'll need this," he said quietly, handing it to you. His tone was neutral, but there was an undercurrent of something more - an expectation, a reminder of your place. You took the vial with a nod, whispering a quick thanks, and he returned to his seat with a satisfied smirk. The potion-making process required meticulous attention, and for a while, you managed to lose yourself in the rhythm of chopping, grinding, and stirring. However, it wasn't long before the subtle dynamics of the room shifted again. Blaise and Theodore exchanged amused glances, clearly enjoying your discomfort, while Mattheo, from across the room, shot you a reassuring look, as if to remind you that you weren't entirely alone.
As the class progressed, Snape moved between the tables, his robes billowing behind him. When he reached your station, he peered into your cauldron with his usual critical eye. "Adequate," he said curtly, moving on. The small acknowledgment felt like a victory, and you allowed yourself a moment of relief. However, that relief was short-lived. As the class drew to a close, you overheard a whispered conversation between Draco and Blaise. "We'll need to test her again tonight," Draco murmured. "See if she can handle more." Blaise chuckled softly. "She's tougher than she looks. But yes, let's see how far she can go." Your heart pounded in your chest. The thought of another "test" filled you with dread, but there was also a flicker of determination. You had already survived one night with them, and you were determined to prove yourself, to show that you were stronger than they anticipated.
When the class ended, you picked up your bag and made your way out of the potions classroom, Draco was already waiting by the door. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something softer before his usual composed mask fell back into place. "Ready for lunch?" he asked, his tone casual but his gaze intense. You nodded, trying to maintain a semblance of calm. "Yes, let's go."
The walk to the Great Hall was filled with an uneasy silence. The others joined you, their presence a constant reminder of the complex web you were now entangled in. Mattheo fell into step beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours in what felt like a deliberate gesture of solidarity. "You did well in there," he murmured, his voice just loud enough for you to hear. "Thanks," you replied, appreciating the small kindness. It felt like a lifeline in the turbulent sea you found yourself in. Blaise, walking just behind you, leaned in with a smirk. "Don't get too comfortable," he teased. "We're not done with you yet." Draco shot him a look, half-amused, half-warning. "Don't scare her off, Blaise. She's tougher than she looks." The conversation continued in snippets as you made your way to the Great Hall. Theodore, always the most observant, noticed your lingering tension. "Relax," he said softly, his hand brushing against your lower back in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. "We're not monsters. At least, not to you." The reassurance was faint, but it was there. You took a deep breath and nodded, trying to let go of some of the tension that had been building since breakfast.
When you reached the Great Hall, the boys maneuvered you to your usual spot at the Slytherin table. The atmosphere was buzzing with the midday chatter of students, but it felt like a backdrop to the intense dynamics playing out between you and your new companions. As you sat down, Draco's hand rested briefly on your shoulder, a gesture that felt both possessive and protective. "Eat," he commanded gently. "You'll need your strength." You complied, focusing on your plate and trying to ignore the curious glances from your classmates. The boys resumed their conversation, their tones a mixture of casual and conspiratorial. "I heard there's a Quidditch match this weekend," Mattheo said, breaking a piece of bread with his fingers. "Are we going?" Draco nodded. "Of course. Slytherin's playing. Even if it’s not Theodore and me this time - we'll be there." Theodore glanced at you. "Have you ever been to a Quidditch match?" he asked, his curiosity genuine. You shook your head. "No, I haven't. Not yet, anyway." "Then you'll join us," Draco decided, his tone leaving no room for argument. "It'll be a good distraction." Blaise chuckled. "And maybe you'll see why we love it so much."
The conversation shifted to Quidditch strategies and team line-ups, and you found yourself relaxing slightly, the normalcy of the topic a welcome respite from the underlying tension. Lunch passed more smoothly than breakfast, with the boys alternating between including you in their banter and discussing their plans. You felt like you were beginning to understand the rhythm of their interactions, the ebb and flow of dominance and camaraderie. As the meal came to an end, Draco leaned in once more, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. "Remember, tonight is another test. Be ready." You nodded, swallowing the lump of anxiety that formed in your throat. "I will be." The others exchanged knowing glances, and Mattheo gave you a reassuring smile. "You'll be fine. Just trust us." Trust. It was a loaded word, especially in your current situation. But as you stood to leave, flanked by your new companions, you felt a strange sense of determination. Whatever the night had in store, you were ready to face it head-on.
The afternoon classes passed in a blur. Your thoughts kept drifting back to the boys, their words, and the night ahead. Each time you caught yourself daydreaming, you forced yourself to refocus on the lesson at hand. You couldn't afford to slip up, not now. Whispers and stares followed you, the events of the night before still fresh in your mind. You were part of their world now, entangled in a complex web of power, desire, and control.
As you walked into the next classroom, your heart was still racing from the morning's interactions. The room was already filled with students settling into their seats, chatting animatedly about the day's lessons and gossip. You tried to blend in, choosing a seat near the back where you hoped to remain unnoticed. The professor, a stern-looking witch with sharp features, was organizing her notes at the front of the room. As you took out your books, you felt a familiar presence behind you. Mattheo slid into the seat next to you with a casual ease, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Surprised to see me here, princess?" he whispered, leaning in close enough that you could feel his breath on your ear. "Why are you sitting here?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. "Because I want to," he replied simply, his grin widening. "Besides, we need to keep an eye on you, make sure you're... adjusting." Before you could respond, the professor called the class to order, her voice cutting through the chatter. "Settle down, everyone. Today we'll be continuing our discussion on advanced transfiguration techniques."
As the lesson began, you tried to focus, but Mattheo's presence was a constant distraction. He would occasionally whisper comments about the lesson, his voice low and teasing. "Think you could do that spell, princess? Or do you need a bit more practice?" You shot him a glare, but he only chuckled, clearly enjoying your discomfort. Despite your best efforts, your thoughts kept drifting back to the previous night and the unspoken bond now linking you to Mattheo and the others. During a particularly tedious part of the lecture, Mattheo leaned in again. "You know, you're quite the mystery. I'm looking forward to unraveling you bit by bit." "Why are you doing this?" you asked, your frustration bubbling over. "Because we can," he said, his tone turning serious for a moment. "And because there's something about you that intrigues us." Before you could press further, the professor called on Mattheo, asking him to explain a complex spell. He answered smoothly, his knowledge evident despite his earlier distractions. You couldn't help but be impressed, even if you didn't want to admit it.
The class continued, with Mattheo occasionally slipping you notes filled with teasing comments and questions about the lesson. Despite yourself, you found a small part of you appreciating the attention, even if it came with a heavy price. When the lesson finally ended, you gathered your things quickly, hoping to escape before Mattheo could say anything else. But as you stood, you found yourself face-to-face with Draco, who had been waiting by the door. "Going somewhere?" he asked, his voice smooth and commanding. "I have another class," you stammered, trying to sidestep him. "Of course you do," he said, not moving. "But first, a word." He guided you out of the classroom, Mattheo following closely behind. The corridor was empty, the other students having already dispersed. Draco leaned against the wall, his gaze fixed on you. "You're doing well," he said, his tone almost approving. "But remember, this isn't a game. There are rules you need to follow." "What rules?" you asked, your heart pounding. Draco exchanged a glance with Mattheo, who nodded slightly. "You'll learn them in time," Draco replied. "For now, just know that we expect your obedience. Fail us, and there will be consequences." You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. "I understand." "Good," he said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "We'll be watching." With that, he turned and walked away, Mattheo giving you a final, lingering look before following. You stood there for a moment, trying to collect yourself. The day was far from over, and you had a feeling that the boys' influence would be felt in every corner of your life from now on.
As you made your way to your next class, the memory of their words and the intensity of their presence stayed with you. The line between fear and fascination blurred, leaving you wondering what the future held and how you would navigate this new, dangerous path. The class took place at the library, where you and other students had to search for specific informations for the next lesson. After a while you found yourself in a secluded corner of the library, a place where few students ventured. The soft rustle of pages and the occasional creak of wooden chairs were the only sounds that broke the silence. Tom had summoned you here with a cryptic note slipped into your bag during breakfast. The message was simple: "Restricted section. In 15 minutes."
As the clock struck the desired time, Tom emerged from the shadows, his presence as commanding as ever. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. He approached with deliberate slowness, his gaze never wavering. "You came," he said, his voice a low purr. "Good." "What do you want, Tom?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek before trailing down to your throat. "I want you to understand your place," he said softly. "Last night was just the beginning. Tonight, we delve deeper." Your breath hitched as he wrapped his hand around your throat, not squeezing but holding you firmly in place. His touch was both possessive and gentle, a contrast that sent your mind spinning. "Do you trust me?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. "I... I don't know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. His grip tightened slightly, a warning. "You need to decide, and quickly. Trust is essential for what we are about to do." You nodded, a mix of fear and curiosity compelling you forward. "I trust you," you said, the words feeling both liberating and terrifying. "Good," he murmured, releasing your throat and stepping back. "Safeword?" Your voice was just a whisper, as you answered. "Roses." He chuckled. "Take off your robe."
Your hands trembled as you followed his command, letting the fabric pool at your feet. You stood there in your uniform, feeling exposed under his intense gaze. "On your knees," he ordered, his voice a blend of authority and dark promise. You sank to the floor, your eyes never leaving his. He stepped closer, his hand moving to cup your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze. "Such obedience," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "But we need to go further." From his pocket, he produced a length of silk rope. Your pulse quickened as he knelt beside you, his hands deftly wrapping the rope around your wrists, binding them together in front of you. The silk was soft against your skin, yet the knots were firm, leaving no doubt about his control. "Now, remember," he said, his voice a whisper in your ear, "you can stop this at any time. Just say your safeword." You nodded, the reality of your situation settling over you. "I understand." Tom's hand trailed down your back, his touch sending shivers through your body. "Good," he said, his voice low and intimate. "Now, let's see how well you can follow instructions."
He guided you to your feet, the rope binding your wrists forcing you to maintain your balance carefully. With a gentle but firm hand, he led you to a nearby table, bending you over it so that your cheek pressed against the cool wood. "Stay still," he commanded, and you obeyed, your body tense with anticipation. His hands moved to the hem of your skirt, slowly lifting it to reveal your bare skin. You felt a blush spread across your cheeks, the exposure both humiliating and exhilarating. Tom's touch was firm as he ran his hand over your backside, a soft hum of approval escaping his lips. "You're beautiful like this," he said, his voice thick with desire. "So vulnerable. So perfect." You bit your lip, the combination of his words and his touch igniting a fire within you. His hand moved between your thighs, parting them gently but insistently. You gasped as his fingers brushed against your most sensitive area, the touch electrifying. "Do you like this?" he asked, his breath hot against your ear. "Yes," you breathed, your voice trembling. He chuckled softly, his fingers continuing their teasing exploration. "Good. Because tonight, I will take you as my own. You will belong to me completely."
You didn’t have time to ask him what he meant with that. He whispered a quick silencing spell and with a sudden, firm motion, he spanked you, the sharp sting making you gasp. The pain quickly morphed into a throbbing pleasure, and you arched your back, silently begging for more. He obliged, his hand coming down again and again, each strike sending waves of sensation through your body. "Such a good girl," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm against the intensity of his actions. "You're doing so well." Tears of pleasure and pain blurred your vision as he continued, his control absolute. A cool breeze against your exposed thighs, heightened your senses. Tom's touch was deliberate, almost reverent, as he traced patterns on your skin. Each stroke sent electric tingles through your body, leaving you both anxious and exhilarated. "You are mine," Tom whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "And tonight, you will learn what that truly means." As his hands continued their exploration, your mind struggled to keep up with the whirlwind of sensations. You felt a deep sense of vulnerability but also a strange, undeniable connection with Tom and the others. This was more than just a physical experience; it was a binding of your soul to theirs.
The silence of the library was punctuated by your shallow breaths and the occasional rustle of clothing. Tom's hands were both gentle and commanding, a reminder of the power he wielded over you. "Remember your safeword," he murmured, his voice a soothing counterpoint to the intensity of his actions. "If it becomes too much, use it."
You nodded, your resolve strengthening. "I understand." For the next hour, Tom guided you through a series of exercises designed to test your obedience and resilience.
Each command he gave, you followed without hesitation, earning his approval and a deeper sense of connection. The rope binding your wrists served as a constant reminder of your submission, but also of the trust you were placing in him.
Finally, he stopped, his hand gently caressing the reddened skin. "That's enough for now," he said softly. "You did very well." He untied your wrists, his fingers gentle as they worked the knots free. You collapsed against the table, your body trembling from the intensity of the experience. Tom lifted you into his arms, carrying you to a nearby chair and sitting you on his lap. "Shh," he whispered, his hand stroking your hair. "You did beautifully." You felt a surge of warmth at his words, a small smile creeping onto your face. "Thank you, Tom." He returned the smile, his usual mask of indifference softening for a brief moment. "Let's get you back to the common room. The others will want to hear about your progress."
As you walked through the corridors of the castle, Tom's hand on your back guiding you, the events of the past night and hours played through your mind. The fear, the exhilaration, the deepening bond with the boys - all of it was leading you somewhere new, somewhere unknown.
When you reached the entrance, Draco was already there, waiting for you. He offered you a small, encouraging smile. "Ready?" You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "Ready." The others soon joined, and together, you entered the common room. Inside Theodore, Mattheo, Blaise, and Lorenzo were waiting. Their eyes turned to you as you entered, curiosity and anticipation evident on their faces. "How did it go?" Draco asked, his tone revealing his eagerness to hear about your experience. Tom nodded in approval. "She did exceptionally well. She's learning quickly." The boys exchanged looks of satisfaction, and you felt a strange sense of pride swelling within you. Despite the challenges and the fear, you were becoming a part of something bigger, something powerful. "Welcome back," Mattheo said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "We have a lot more to teach you, princess." You nodded, a newfound determination settling over you. "I'm ready."
The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, the air thick with unspoken tension. Draco took the lead, guiding you to a quieter corner where they had set up for the evening. "Tonight," he began, his voice firm but not unkind, "we're going to push you a little further. Trust in us, and trust in yourself. You can do this." The others nodded in agreement, their expressions a mix of seriousness and encouragement. Mattheo handed you a small vial. "Drink this. It'll help with your focus." You took the vial and drank its contents, the liquid warm and oddly calming. As it spread through your body, you felt a sense of clarity and resolve. Theodore stepped forward, his gaze intense. "Remember, we're here to guide you, to help you become stronger. You belong with us now, and we're going to make sure you know it." Blaise smirked, but there was a hint of genuine fondness in his eyes. "Just remember to breathe, princess. You belong to us."