Draco Malfoy had been certain that he knew everything about himself. He was an attractive man, as he’d been told many a time, and he knew that anyone would be lucky to have him.
But what if he didn’t want just anyone?
Lately, things had just felt… weird.
Pictures of humans—even in sensual positions—just didn’t do anything for him. Quidditch magazines, and everything that had once been provoking had begun to simply leave him bored.
Ordinarily, that would have been weird enough. A lack of interest in regular porno and naked human bodies wasn’t normal.
But what really wasn’t normal was this newfound interest in puppets.
Normal boys don’t enjoy Sesame Street this much.
Normal boys don’t scroll through pictures of Elmo dolls on eBay.
Draco Malfoy was starting to think he wasn’t normal.
It was a Friday night in London, and Draco was alone in his apartment making dinner. Well, dinner was being made. Magically.
Draco on the other hand, was in his room, and having a rather good time being in his room. While the kitchen was cooking chicken and salad, he was under his covers, daydreaming. Oddly enough, both activities involved cucumbers.
What he didn’t know was that there was someone outside his apartment, raising their fist to knock on the door. (I’ll give you something to do with your fist, Draco would have thought if he had known). (But really, his brain was a bit…busy at the moment. It shouldn’t be held against him).
Just as Draco felt himself falling into a familiar stupor, a knock on his front door reverberated through the apartment. It was an unignorable knock, too sharp for the soft red hand that made it, and too loud for the size of the being to whom the hand belonged to.
Draco bit his lip in annoyance. Now? Really? He would have ignored it and continued with his…activities, had a voice not called out after the second knock.
“Anybody hooome?” It was a high pitched voice, not like that of a child (Draco wasn’t that fucked up), but like the insistent whistle of the Hogwarts Express. It drew one’s attention, invited wonder from the depths of the heart. Most importantly, it was a voice that had been haunting Draco’s consciousness twenty-four fucking seven for weeks now, far too long for it not to effectively make his ears perk up (and maybe another appendage or two).
It was the voice of Elmo.
Draco’s breath hitched, his previous activities forgotten, and tried to spell his hands clean to open the door. The spell wouldn’t stick, though. He would feel that the magic was starting to work, but each time something blocked it.
Irritated, and more than a little worried that the being at the door would get bored and go away, Draco wiped his hands on the bed sheets. He could deal with it later. Besides, if a simple cleaning spell wasn’t working, he couldn’t imagine he’d be able to unlock his front door with magic.
Just as he left his bedroom to get the door, it opened, seemingly by itself. Draco frowned. “Was it unlocked this whole time?” he wondered aloud. All thoughts of doors and locks soon left his brain, when the door was properly flung open, the handle making a satisfying clunk against the wall, and in floated Elmo.
Draco was frozen, stunned speechless by the creature’s beauty. Elmo floated into the apartment. Their fiery red limbs tangled around each other promiscuously, their orange nose shiny with desire, and Draco found himself wanting to writhe on the floor at Elmo’s mercy.
The kitchen, which had been merrily making Draco’s dinner, suddenly stopped, as if it too was in awe of Elmo. With a flick of the creature’s wrist, the oven turned off and utensils clattered onto the counter.
“Only Elmo’s magic works in Elmo’s vicinity,” they trilled, and it took all of Draco’s self control not to blissfully collapse on the floor, then and there. “Guess I’ll have to find something else to eat,” he murmured.
Elmo moved forward then, hovering closer until they were centimeters away from Draco’s face. “Guess you will.” They snapped his fingers and Draco’s front door slammed shut. “Take me to bed.” Elmo hissed, and Draco grabbed them by the waist, kissing their furry mouth firmly, all the while stumbling into his room.
Draco had, at least privately, come to terms with his attraction to puppets a little while ago. It was the sort of thing that he would never tell another soul, but had no intention of denying himself in his mind, or in his bedroom. However, he was far from embracing it. “I’d like to fuck a sentient puppet” just wasn’t something that Malfoys were taught him how to engrain into conversation. He blamed his parents.
So, for the time being, he’d been restricted to store-bought hand puppets with blank eyes that he’d put on his hand and wank off with. It wasn’t great, but it still worked alarmingly well. He’d used magic to obscure the trunk of Elmo puppets in his bedroom, just in case a good-looking gentleman came home with him one night. Luckily (or perhaps unluckily), he hadn’t had anyone over in months.
Needless to say, nothing he’d done in the past few months had prepared him for the overwhelming experience that was Elmo.
The puppet pushed Draco up against a wall, lengthening as they moved, two bodies becoming one in the dark bedroom. Draco had known Elmo possessed great power, but self-lengthening was something else, not to mention the elimination of legs, so that they could become the long, hot noodle that was now flush against Draco’s front. With the sexy ease of someone pulling off a shirt or lifting a weight, they let out their body until they could stretch to get taller than Draco, whose designer boxers were rapidly tightening.
With a nod from Draco and a snap of Elmo’s furry fingers, the boxers were no longer a problem. Out of the corner of his lust-clouded eyes, he could see them folded neatly on the top of his dresser, a stain from his arousal displayed on top, as though Elmo was proud of it. The thought of the suave and sexy puppet being proud of him, proud of making him wet, made Draco groan into red fur and wrap his hand around Elmo’s back, pulling the two of them even closer together. He was going to come from friction alone, and he wasn’t even mad about it. How could he be? This was literally a dream come true.
Then, Elmo tugged Draco’s shirt off, casually lengthening their arms so they could cleanly undress him without having to move an inch. Once again, the flippant use of such advanced magic drew Draco even closer to the edge.
Then, Elmo grunted and Draco looked down to see that Elmo had changes of their own occurring. Deep in the delicious regions of Elmo’s blood red fur, something long and thick was emerging from the space across from Draco’s own dick. It was insistant like an old steam train, red like the hellish urges it was provoking in Draco’s heart. “What… is that,” was all he could say, all he could utter as his whole self was drawn more and more into the forcefield that was Elmo.
The puppet levitated until his electric red penis, which had just been born from the snake-like reversible pocket of skin hidden in their furry depths was level with Draco’s open, watering, mouth. It was big, bigger than should be logistically possible due to Elmo’s size, but oh, the laws of reality had never really applied when it came to the puppet, had they?
“It is only through Elmo’s meddling of a very powerful snake that Elmo has the ability to Lengthen in this way. Your little mortal lives are too short to spend all your time holding back.” Elmo thrust forward, and Draco got to see the wonders of how controlled Elmo’s dick could be, as it didn’t even wiggle at the sudden movement, simply moving in a clean line towards Draco’s mouth. Draco couldn’t tear his gaze away from it.
“Bite it,” Elmo said. “That is,” they continued, giving Draco a sly quirk of their furry lips, “if you want to.”
They both knew what Draco wanted.
The slick leather skin was firm beneath Draco’s teeth, and he relished the sick feeling it gave him to let Elmo move even closer, pushing his dick farther down Draco’s throat. The roughness of it scraping against his tongue was better than anything he’d ever known. If the puppet touched him, then surely Draco would reach true bliss.
“Elmo said to bite it!” Elmo commanded, their voice almost wavering on the last words, showing what Draco could recodnise as need. The ball was in his court how, and it was so hot that Draco could barely stand it. He bit down as hard as he could on Elmo’s dick, loving the vulnerability of the way Elmo jerked forward and slammed their furry hands on the bedroom wall to keep balance. The puppet came with an unearthly howl, and sent crashing waves of cum down Draco’s throat. It was salty to taste, and left a tingling feeling in his throat just too strong to be from something human. Elmo pulled their dick out of Draco’s mouth and slowly began to move down, just close enough that the leathery skin still coated in wizard saliva never truly left contact with Draco’s skin. Impulsively, Draco grabbed the fur on Elmo’s front, pulling them even closer. He could smell the sweat on their neck, still taste the salt of cum on the roof of his own mouth.
Now all they had to do was fuck.
Before, he could even suggest it, though, a long forked tongue was emerging from Elmo’s mouth. They licked Draco’s face, circling his mouth again and again. “Nowww, ze maaaagic whill happennn…” Elmo hissed around their tongue, their mouth forming a suggestive “o” as their eyes flicked down to Draco’s naked, leaking dick.
Just then, he felt a sharp pain in his mouth, just behind one of his teeth. He exclaimed, his head hitting the wall as it came again, and again, all over the inside of his mouth.
“IIIiiiinteresting,” Elmo purred. “Prickly in all the right places, you are.” The tongue reached inside Draco’s mouth, slithering around what Draco could now feel were rows of tiny teeth in his mouth. “Elmo liiiiikes teeth,” they trilled, sending vibrations down Draco’s body. It made him whimper; he was so close already and he hadn’t even been touched. Not properly, anyway.
At the sound, Elmo slid their eyes down to Draco, and pulled back their forked tongue, leaving it dangling slightly off their top lip. They had the hooded-eye look, now, of someone about to do something dirty. “Sssssomething you want?” they hissed, making Draco gulp.
The long furry body began to wrap around Draco’s leg. “Ssssssay it, Elmo’s little shark bitch.” Draco’s breath was coming quicker now, and it took all the restraint he could muster to not reach down and get himself off then and there. “Fuck me,” he said finally, slightly muffled from the rows of teeth now touching his tongue. “Fuck me, Elmo.” A cascading laugh from the puppet’s throat--which was now deliciously close to Draco’s dick--and Elmo had reconfigured themself. Draco found himself turned, leaning against the wall with outstretched palms. A lengthened red arm reached inside his mouth, further anchoring him, and making him wanting to gag and come at the same time as the furry fingers ran over the tiny little teeth. “So pretty for Elmo. So perfectly wretched.” Draco’s knees buckled as Elmo’s other hand covered their red dick with thick, slimy puppet saliva, before slamming it into his arsehole. He shouted around the puppet’s hand, which balled into a fist, as Elmo fought to slow their own finishing. “Not yet, pretty shark, not yet. Elmo still needs time for the grand finale.” Their voice was husky, more than a little labored, as they fought their desire for control.
Desire… over Draco? The thought of having so much impact on the all powerful puppet was glorious. Draco squeezed his hole tight around the firm leathery skin, then curled his toes when Elmo finally reached around and grabbed his dick.
After that, it was all over in a matter of seconds. Some skilful flicks of the finger and fast shoves into his arsehole and Draco was done for, biting down on Elmo’s hand and crumbling against the wall as he came. The biting seemed to do it for Elmo, who finished for the second time that night only a few seconds later.
The two of them slid down the wall, naked and slick in the dark room. Draco sighed and looked across at Elmo, oddly finding that he didn’t mind that it was over. He still felt immense attraction to the puppet, and hoped they could do this again, but his lust wasn’t all-consuming in the way it had been before. He no longer felt insatiable.
Surprising himself, he smiled, which caught the attention of his companion, who was now back to their regular size, legs to boot. They were in the process of reversing their penis and sending it back into its nook. Instead of saying something arousing or demonstrating some extraordinary power, they simply smiled back and snapped their fingers (on the hand that had been wanking Draco off). With a short pinch, Draco felt his extra teeth recede.
He sat on the floor, then, watching while Elmo floated around the room, quietly moving things back to where they’d been before. They removed the stains from Draco’s bed and boxers, levitated the lonely cucumber out from underneath a pillow and promptly ate it. It was all strangely domestic.
“Elmo must take their leave,” they trilled softly, after swallowing the last bite of cucumber. The voice still sent shivers down Draco’s spine. He reached out and took Elmo’s hand, feeling shy all of a sudden. “Will you be back?”
Elmo gave the grin of someone who knows they’re in control, and levitated away from Draco’s still-naked self.
“Perhaps,” they said, and disappeared with a snap.