Chapter 4
To say that Neville was a kind arsehole was an understatement. Every hit of the flogger he had to the thighs was followed up with a long pause, enough that Harry had more than enough time to recover. It created a sense of dread for the next hit and a thrill of excitement. It was a heady combination, and it hadn’t even been ten minutes yet. Another swing, this one landing right at the junction of his thigh and groin made him shriek. It stung more than the others, but the dull throb that came afterwards was well worth it.
“My, my you make such pretty sounds. I wonder what noise this will make.” Harry had just enough time to be worried before the awful and wonderful sting made its way over his nipples. Even through the shirt, it stung. He vaguely hoped that Neville’s gran didn’t live here with how loud he was being.
“Hmm...no, you’re still thinking.” Neville leaned in to growl in Harry’s ear. “I don’t like my playthings to think for themselves.” And, honest to Merlin, Harry whimpered. He’d only ever wanted someone to do all the thinking for him, even just for a little while and the idea of not even being capable of making a decision from lack of thought was so appealing that he couldn’t contain it.
“I’m sorry, I’ll do better, I swear-” he cut himself off with a yelp as the flogger came down on his calf. The burning thwump shocked him into silence.
“I don’t want you to try to do better. I want you to stop thinking and just let go like a good boy.” Harry gasped. He wanted nothing better than to have Neville tell him he was being good, but he had a really difficult time turning his brain off in the best of circumstances. But how did he manage to let go? Draco had gotten him to stop thinking completely once-they’d done a series of impact scenes for educational classes. The torture of being flogged on and off for nearly eight hours had driven him into speechlessness. He didn’t want to spend that long being flogged today-it was exhausting after awhile. Maybe something that hurt more would do the trick.
“Yellow?” Neville sat down at the edge of the bed and carded his fingers through Harry’s hair.
“What is it?”
“I never really mastered the whole getting-my-brain-to-shut-off thing without more pain than what you’ve given me so far. Or fear, but that’s a different conversation.”
“What would you like me to use then?” Harry turned his head to look at a selection of impact toys hanging on the wall and nodded to one in particular that looked like it would hurt more than the soft leather that Neville currently had in his hand.
“Are you sure? That one will hurt a lot more than this one, it’s a fairly large jump in pain levels.” Harry simply nodded and when Neville did a test strike Harry’s brain short circuited. The three long braids of leather did indeed hurt much more than the flogger before it.
“Green, green, green, green, green, green, green!” Neville chuckled low in his throat before that wonderful sensation was back. By the time five more strikes were laid on his body, Harry had even forgotten his own name.
A beautifully thoughtless amount of time later, Harry felt a new sensation floating through his body-eventually he recognized the feeling of fingers softly trailing over his body up towards his hair and through his locks.
“You’re such a good boy for me,” Neville whispered. Harry whimpered and shuddered in pleasure at hearing such a thing. All he wanted was to be good. “What a good boy you’ve been, taking all those hits so nicely. You’re very pretty with my marks all over you.” Harry keened. “The only thing that would look better is if you were covered in my come. But for now, you’ll just have to settle for this, won’t you?” Neville pushed his jean covered erection against Harry’s leather clad one and ever so slowly rubbed the two together while still somehow making sure the flogger reached Harry’s thighs every now and again. If Harry could have thought, he would have assumed magic was at play but as it was he wasn’t exactly capable of logic at the moment. It wasn’t long before Harry was a blubbering mess, whimpering and half finished pleas falling from his lips at lighting speed.
“What’s my name?” It didn’t take Harry long at all to spew out the only word Neville would want to hear just then.
“Sir!” And just like that the two of them toppled over the edge and made a sticky mess of their clothes. Harry saw white as undiluted pleasure spiked down his body as he convulsed with each spurt of come that made its way from him. He noticed some black dots around the edge of all the whiteness in his vision and managed to stay awake until they disappeared. Once he began to register the soft red lighting once more, he let himself drift off to sleep in Neville’s embrace.