Entry tags:

d/s, lupin, omc, slash, snape

Fic: ~The Greek Boy: An Introduction to Submission, Part One~ NC-17
Title: The Greek Boy: An Introduction to Submission, Part One
Pairings: Lupin/snape/omc
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 15,000: This will be posted in two parts.
Warnings: This is a story set within the Dom/sub culture and includes heavy kink and fetish elements such as breathplay, spanking, and fisting.
Summary: Lupin had promised Snape, "no more Greek Boys" unless he shared. He decides it is not only time to share the Boy with Snape, but to introduce the Boy to the D/s culture.

Notes: This is set in the universe of my story Power Play, where Lupin and Snape establish and develop a stable Dom/sub relationship. In that story, Lupin – after a falling out with Snape early in the relationship – consoles himself by dallying with the Greek Boy, later promising Snape he wouldn't see him again – unless he shares. While this story is a continuation of "Power Play," it also stands alone.

Many thanks to snegurochka for hours of beta work, patient encouragement, and downright force, when it was needed – this wouldn't have turned out nearly as well without her, and to busaikko for a final beta run-through. Also to undunoops for this wonderful, inspiring illustration of the Greek Boy.

~~The Greek Boy: An Introduction to Submission, Part One~~

It’s raining. Of course it’s raining – it’s London. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, this being my third winter at University, and I guess I am, mostly. That doesn’t stop me from missing the clear sunshine and gentle breezes of my home.

Home. So different there. With history older than time, a magic felt in the rhythms of the earth as she does her slow dance in the heavens, a quiet and timelessness that brings peace.

While I love my life here, I miss the little fishing village from whence I come. I still spend summers there, helping my uncles on their fishing boats. The ocean is like a woman. Warm, ripe, moving with a seductive grace, murmuring in your ear all night. At least, that is what my uncles say. I laugh with them as though I share the joke, but in truth, I wouldn’t know. I prefer men. They know, my uncles, but they pretend not to. They don’t mind. Life is forgiving in our little village.

“Art! Artemis!”

I hear the shout but wait until I’ve finished my dash across the quad and am under cover of the walk before turning. Eddie, an underclassman, is waving to me from the door of the administrative offices. “You have a visitor!” His shout is muffled by the downpour.

Taking a deep breath, I once more plunge into the cold rain and pelt across the puddles and the worn cobblestones to the open doorway.

“In there.” He gestures to a small waiting room and I enter, shaking the rain from my eyes.

A tall man rises from one of the armchairs as I enter. He turns to face me, smiling and holding out a hand. My breathing stops. It is the Englishman. The visitor to my uncle Zander’s guesthouse last summer. The man whose light blue eyes saw through to the core of me, whose cock stroked my soul until I cried out for more. For some reason known only to the merciful gods, he has sought me out and found me here.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” His voice warms me. “My name is Remus Lupin.”

---

At last. After weeks of searching, numerous visits to London, and countless owls, I have found the boy. He enters the room laughing, shaking the water from his hair like a happy dog. His eyes meet mine and there is one moment of shocked stillness before his face splits with a grin. The drops of water sparkle in his hair and on the rich brown of his skin, and his eyes shine with welcoming warmth. He is beautiful, and I feel my traitorous cock stiffen at the memory of how tight he was around me, of how delicious his moans were.

I introduce myself and he tells me his name is Artemis, although he assures me with a cheeky grin that he is not a girl. He holds the hand clasp a bit longer than is necessary, then trails his thumb over the back of my hand as he releases it.

Reprehensible flirt! I feel myself blush like a schoolgirl, something that makes him laugh.

His classes are over for the day and he agrees, with eagerness and a shy sideways look, to go with me for an ale and a chat. He is so open, so at ease with his sensuality, that all I want to do is shove him against the nearest wall and fuck him until he screams.

But that must wait. It is my sincerest hope that after a little conversation, a little persuading, I will be able to do not only that, but will also have the unbelievable pleasure of watching my Severus drive his cock into that beautiful arse over and over again while that sweet mouth sucks me dry. I think the boy will be receptive to the idea. I can’t help smiling. I think the boy will love the idea, but how will he feel about being tied down while it happens? Will he be amenable to giving himself up? Gods! The thought of watching Severus take him in hand, school him, start him on the road I feel sure he is destined for....

This quest to find the boy started as a whim – a way to tease Severus for teasing me, a way to give him a treat for his birthday. Why am I now seeing endless sessions in my mind? Me in an armchair watching Severus and the boy. Severus, elegant in black trousers and white shirt, the boy naked but for the heavy cuffs. Severus stalking ‘round the kneeling boy, crop in hand. Severus using the crop on that beautiful backside until it glows, then stripping naked and plunging his cock home. The boy, still shuddering from his fucking, crawling on all fours to suck my cock while Severus watches, a smile on his austere face.

My cock is so hard I can barely stand upright.

Artemis comes back into the room after dropping off his books and getting an anorak. He takes one look at my face, then his eyes drop lower, and I see him flush. As we walk toward the outer door, he detains me with a hand on my arm. Standing on tiptoe, he whispers in my ear, his warm breath fanning my hair.

“There is a washroom just here.” He raises a suggestive eyebrow, and I almost come in my trousers like a teenager.

---

Remus Lupin. The name fits him somehow. I stroke the back of his hand with my thumb and see him respond. This was what attracted me to him in Greece. Unlike most Englishmen, he has an almost electrifying sexuality simmering just below the surface. I don’t see how anyone could miss it, if they took half a look.

He invites me for a pint and a chat. A chat. All right. The man wants me, I can tell, and my cock is practically weeping at the memory of how he filled me, how he pounded into me, demanding that I scream. How could I help but to oblige as my world exploded, and the only things that anchored me to this earth were his strong hands on my hips?

I go to drop off my books and get a jacket and when I return, the look he first turns on me ignites my insides. And he has a hard-on. Gods, this man is hot! I try to sidetrack him into the washroom, anything just to be able to get my hand around that shaft, to take him inside of me, but he shakes his head and walks outside.

The rain has slowed to a drizzle and we walk side by side to the pub at the end of the block.

“Artemis, I’m sorry.” He sighs. “Lord knows I’d like nothing better right now than to drag you into an alley and shag you senseless, but I made a promise.” His smile is apologetic.

“You’re back with your lover.” I thought as much. A quick look tells me that he is serious about still wanting me and I smile. The man is as likeable as he is shaggable.

He opens the pub door for me. “I’d like to tell you about him.”

---

We sit silently, waiting for our drinks. Where to start. I lift my eyes to Artemis and find he’s watching me. A shy smile spreads across his face.

“Severus, isn’t it?”

The reminder that it was Severus’ name that I cried when I came, buried deep inside this boy, makes me flush. I flash Artemis a look of apology as I answer. “Yes, Severus.”

He continues to smile without the slightest hint of resentment. “And does this Severus know about me?”

The waitress sets our drinks on the table.

“He knows I had you; he doesn’t know any details.” I taste my ale.

“Was he angry when he found out?”

“No.” I fidget. “He wasn’t pleased certainly, but he wasn’t angry. He asked me to agree to ‘no more Greek boys.’” I draw a deep breath. “Unless I shared.”

The boy’s eyes open wide.

“His birthday is in a few days.” I watch the boy carefully.

The little slut looks delighted. “Am I to understand....” He almost chokes with glee. “Are you inviting me to be a ‘gift’ for your lover?”

I have to smile at his enthusiasm. “I guess I am. I gather you like the idea?”

“It has possibilities.” He grins.

“I’ll be there, of course, so you needn’t feel nervous.”

“I see.” The boy takes a long drink of ale without taking his eyes off mine. “Will I have to jump out of a cake?”

I choke on my drink and he laughs. “No, Artemis, you will definitely not be jumping out of a cake.”

“What kind of man is he?” Artemis’ face has sobered.

I think. “Severe, austere, sometimes cruel.” I struggle to find words that won’t paint Severus in a bad light.

“Sounds like a lot of fun,” the boy mutters under his breath and I give him a stern look. “He doesn’t sound like your type, but he must have something to hold your love and loyalty.”

"He is very passionate...." The boy cocks an eyebrow and I go on. "In everything. He's loyal, extremely intelligent with a dry, cutting wit, and he has given me the great gift of his trust." I fiddle with my glass. "Perhaps not what a young man would call 'fun,' but I would die for him."

My last statement surprises me – I have never thought in those terms before, but before I can get stuck on the thought, Artemis nods and goes on.

“What does he do?”

“Teaches. He's a teacher at a boarding school in Scotland. And he does have many good points, I assure you.”

Artemis grins again. “I’m sure he does.”

“So.” I take a deep breath. “You’ll give it a go? You’ll consent to be his play-toy for the night, and mine as well.”

He looks suddenly shy. “I’ve never done anything like this, but yes.” His eyes meet mine. “I’ll give it a go – if you’re there.”

“I will be. And Artemis.” He looks up at me. “I trust Severus with my life.”

His smile returns. “Then I shall trust him with mine.”

His trust in me, a man who fucked him one day on a sunny hillside months ago, touches me. I smile, wondering how much more I dare hope for. “Have you ever been to Manfred’s?”

He is alight with curiosity. “No. But I’ve certainly heard of it.”

Manfred’s is a well-known fetish club in one of the dodgier sections of town. I look at my watch. In for a penny, in for a pound; might as well see how he responds to orders. “Meet me here at nine, and I'll take you there.”

He looks a bit surprised at my command, and studies me thoughtfully for a few seconds. "All right." His voice is soft.

We finish our drinks and part.

~~

Artemis is waiting when I arrive at our meeting place. We walk to the nearest underground station and after a couple of changes and another few blocks' walk, I heave open the dark, heavy door of the club. Music assaults our ears and we squint in the dim, smoky interior.

With a light hand on his hip, I guide the boy to a spot near the side where the crowd is a little thinner. The dance floor is packed with bodies, all male, many stripped to the waist, most sweating freely as they undulate to the music. The boy’s eyes fasten on a pair rubbing against each other, hips grinding, heads thrown back, and eyes closed in pleasure. The air is thick with the scents of beer, smoke, and sex.

“Wait here.” I almost have to yell in his ear for him to hear me. He nods and I go off to find drinks.

When I return, he is in conversation with a large man with a lot of tattoos. I hand him his drink, then move behind him and drape a casually possessive arm over his shoulder. The man scowls and moves off, and Artemis flashes me a smile of relief. I nod toward the back and give him a gentle push.

There is a buzzer beside a door that has no handle. After a moment, a big, mean-looking bouncer opens up. He recognizes me and gives a curt nod, moving aside for us to enter. The music is much softer here, background only. There is an empty, round stage in the center of the room. I guide Artemis to the side and we stand, sipping beer and waiting.

A tall, handsome man comes and stops before us, eyeing the boy with open hunger. Artemis leans back against me.

“Yours?” the man asks. I nod. “He’s not collared.”

I straighten, slipping easily into my Dom persona. “Mine.”

The man meets my eyes, then nods and walks off.

Artemis tilts his head back to look at me. “Collared?”

“Look around.”

He obeys, and I see his eyes widen as he looks – really looks – at the other patrons.

There is a wide variety of dress represented, everything from everyday casual, such as myself, to latex, to leather, simple or with lots of chrome spikes. About a quarter of the men are wearing collars. Be they leather, chain or velvet, plain, or studded with rusty spikes or glittering gems, they all have small padlocks dangling from the front. Some even have leashes attached, the handles held loose in fists or tied to belts.

"What are they for?" His soft question is whispered near my ear.

"The men with the collars belong to someone, either as slaves, or as submissives. Some live with their Masters – or Doms – some don't. Some have signed contracts, some are only collared on special occasions, but all of them have pledged their obedience and service to another. The collar marks that, proclaims their status, and also protects them from being accosted by any would-be new owner. There are as many arrangements as there are people in this room. Look there."

I place a hand on his shoulder and indicate a table by the wall where three men sit drinking. Kneeling next to one is a good-looking man in his twenties. His hands rest on his thighs and he stares at them, keeping perfectly still. He is naked except for a collar, cuffs, and a chastity device. His head is shaved and the rest of his body – from what we can see – appears to be as well. A silver leash attaches his collar to the man's belt. The Master is a middle-aged man with harsh features and a dark beard.

The next man at the table looks more like a professor than anything else. His sub is standing behind him against the wall, watching the room. He's dressed in snug jeans and a leather waistcoat, and wears only a small silver chain around his neck and another between nipple rings, as his badge of servitude.

The third man is heavier, sloppily dressed in a suit and is smiling. A young blond kneels beside him wearing snug leather shorts, cuffs and a studded collar. There is no leash, and the boy is looking around with interest, bringing his attention back to his Master as the man feeds him a strawberry. He licks the man's fingers and they both laugh.

"The man with the beard – I'll call him X – is a very strict Master. He, and his slaves, lean toward a preference for harsh discipline. Some," I try to keep any judgment out of my voice, "might call him abusive. His slaves are chained at all times, even at night."

Artemis is silent but I feel him shiver under my hand. "The man to his left – I'll call him Y – is a businessman and his slave is also his bodyguard. His slaves have a great deal of freedom of choice and action, but they are strictly obedient and his punishments, while meagerly doled out, are harsh.

"The next man – Z, let's say – has probably never struck anyone in his life. His subs are his toys, and he treats them like pets. He punishes, on the rare occasions he has to, by withholding his favor."

"Why do they do it – the slaves?"

"Ah." I drop my hand from his shoulder. "There are almost as many reasons as there are slaves." I think for a minute. "There is a great deal of freedom in giving yourself up to service." Artemis looks skeptical. "No choices, no tough decisions – your Master takes care of everything. It can be a great escape. It is also a gift, a very great gift, to give yourself to another." I shiver, thinking of my Severus, kneeling before me, awaiting my commands. "It is a powerful position as well. Although the submissive has pledged his obedience, he is the one who sets the limits."

Artemis looks surprised. "Really?"

"Yes. There are those who enter slavery relinquishing all control; however, even they generally have a contract, and if the terms of that contract aren't fulfilled, the slave can leave."

"What kinds of terms?"

I shrug. "Whatever they agree on. X, for example, has a clause where he is allowed unlimited whippings. He loves his whip, and the only restriction he allows is a promise not to do permanent damage. Not counting scars, of course. Z, who prefers younger men, has a clause in his contracts that his sub will continue with his schooling, entering university if he has the brains, and learning a trade if he doesn’t. His subs leave his service with an education, a job, and a savings account. Generally, the minimum is a promise for food, lodging, clothes – when appropriate – and access to medical care."

"Do they all leave?"

"No." I nod toward a man at a table for one. His sub is sitting on a low stool beside him, comfortably dressed in slacks and a jumper. They both have gray hair. "Those two have been together for more than twenty years. I'm not sure either would survive without the other. The sub is not sitting at the table for appearance's sake, but he is not kneeling or standing because of arthritis in his knees and back. Some, like X, treat their slaves as property, some, like Z, as a responsibility, some, like Y, as an employee – with... differences, and some, like that man," I nod to the older man, "like a valued partner. But in each case, only one is in charge, completely, with no debate or argument."

A spotlight illuminates the stage and a man in leather trousers and a studded waistcoat steps into the center. The crowd quiets.

"All right! The numbers have been drawn for order of appearance, and I think you're going to like tonight's line-up. Who's first?"

A stocky man, also in leather, walks on the stage leading a slightly cowed-looking and naked young man on a leash. He leads him to the whipping bench and the man kneels, then leans forward on his hands, placing himself carefully. "Jay whinged that his poor little arse was sore from my overuse of it." The audience laughs. "So I thought I'd do him a favor and loosen him up a bit – with a nice fisting!" The man punches his fist in the air – a huge, meaty thing attached to an enormous forearm. The audience cheers. "His very first one – though I'm sure he'll be begging for more." The crowd laughs and I can't help wincing slightly in sympathy for the small man on the bench. "Now, I don't like bothering with ties – will a couple of you gents loan me some strong hands to hold him down?"

Two burly slaves hop up on the stage and grip the young man's arms, holding him fast. I see his eyes close and he starts to shake.

"He doesn't want this!" Artemis hisses in my ear.

"He can stop it."

Artemis looks doubtful.

"He would probably be punished severely for making a fool of his Master, but he did agree to this in the first place. This is not forced."

The Master on stage strokes the slave's firm buttocks. "Such a nice arse. I think I should warm it up a bit first, eh?"

The crowd cheers him on, and he pulls a paddle from his back pocket.

He spanks his slave for several minutes, making sure to cover every inch of skin from hips to knees, and only stopping when it is a deep angry red. He then prepares his hand and the man's arse with copious amounts of lube and starts to slowly work his way in. I'm relieved to see the care he takes of his slave, apparently not wanting to hurt him, just teach him a lesson. When his hand finally slips all the way in, there is a collective sigh from the crowd. I look around and see a number of subs on their knees between their Master's thighs. Z has his boy on his lap, driving into him lustily as the boy watches the show round-eyed. Artemis shifts against me. He is pressing back, one firm cheek against my aching cock, and I know that for my own sanity, I must shift him – no matter how good he feels.

"Remus?" Artemis turns and stretches up to whisper in my ear. "I think I need to visit the men's room."

"To empty your bladder or your balls?"

He grins. "My balls."

"No."

The grin falters.

I reach up and stroke a finger down his cheek. "You are with me. You will not come unless I give you permission."

"I, uh... oh." Artemis gulps and nods, then turns and presses his perfect arse back into me again.

"And none of that, you little slut. Much as I'd like to drag you into that men's room by the hair and fuck you into the wall, I made a promise."

Artemis hesitates, then nods again and breaks the contact, seemingly content to know that I want him.

The man on stage stops when he has just enough of his arm inside the sub to be able to stroke a bit. He takes his time working his hand back out, and I give Artemis a nudge. "We're going." He looks disappointed, but obeys.

Outside in the cold air, we walk toward the tube.

"Do you and Severus...?"

"Yes."

"How do the submissives know what to do? I mean, is there some kind of school, or... something?"

"If a man is interested, he can look for someone to take him on as a trainee. Manfred's is not a bad place to look, if you're careful. Not all Masters, or Doms, want an inexperienced sub. Some want a man who already knows the rules and will fit easily into his life. Some men only want neophytes so they can teach them in their own particular style."

Artemis seems to be thinking this over. I decide to take the plunge. "Are you interested?"

His face lights up. "Would you teach me?"

Again, visions of Severus taking the boy in hand flood my mind. But it cannot be; not only because we are wizards and the boy is not, but because of the matter of the war.

"Artemis, there are few things I'd like better, but I'm afraid it would not be possible."

He deflates. "Oh."

"It would be possible, however, to give you a small taste. Allow you to test the water, so to speak."

"For Severus' birthday!" Artemis beams.

The icy wind whips discarded paper around our legs, and I spy an inviting-looking pub just ahead. "Let's talk where it's a bit warmer."

We duck inside, pulling the door shut against the wind, get a couple of ales at the bar and settle in a dark corner.

Where to start.

"Aside from teaching, Severus – both of us – have other 'jobs.'" He looks skeptical and I hurry on. "Oh, nothing illegal, just... highly sensitive and... secretive."

He nods, looking reassured. "For the government?"

"Something like that. The thing is, while I would love to take you in, and spend countless hours training you to be the perfect submissive...." I try not to leer. "I can't. This will have to be a one night thing."

Artemis studies his glass. "I see."

"Artemis, believe me, I appreciate your offer – I'm overwhelmed that you would trust a virtual stranger with something so important, and if there was any way that I could, I would."

Artemis meets my eyes, studies me. "And Severus? He's...."

I smile. "Severus will take as good care of you as I will. He may be a bit brusque, remote even, but he knows what he's doing, and is utterly dependable. You will be totally safe, I promise you, and you can call a halt any time you want." I cock my head. "You like the idea of being someone's obedient little fuck-toy?"

He blushes. "Oh, yeah."

I laugh. "I can promise you a night you will never forget."

"When?" He grins.

"Severus' birthday is two days hence. I have some details to work out." I think. "Artemis, we may have to take you to a secret place – a place we can't allow you to see or know the location of."

He raises an eyebrow. "Sounds like spy stuff."

"Sort of. I'm not sure yet where our night will take place, but are you all right with being spirited away mysteriously?" I try for a light tone.

"You mean like drugged or something?" He frowns at the idea.

"No drugs. More like... hypnotized." I hope it doesn't sound too lame.

"Well, I guess if I'm going to trust you, I'm going to trust you. So, whatever you say."

This boy is unreal. For a moment, I consider abandoning the Wizarding world and keeping him for my own. But only for a moment.

"I'll contact you."

We leave the pub, splitting up on the street. I duck down the first alley I come to and think. I have a lot of planning to do, and it's late, but the arousal that started this afternoon and continued to almost unbearable heights at Manfred's is still with me. I check my watch. Severus will be asleep now. The hell with it. I want to fuck him now, hard and fast.

I pull out my wand and Apparate to Grimmauld Place, grab a handful of Floo powder, and in seconds am falling on my lover's sleeping body. He sighs and spreads his legs for me, moaning and pushing back when I enter him roughly. I am finished in minutes, digging my fingernails into his shoulders and shaking with the strength of my long-delayed release.

Severus opens one eye and studies me. "Are you back from your trip?"

"No." I kiss his neck and rise, straightening the clothes I hadn't bothered to shed. "Sorry for disturbing your sleep."

Severus snorts and pulls up the quilt. "Let me know when you return."

---

The images, feelings, questions, yearnings that have come out of that evening with Remus! My mind is in absolute turmoil. I've wanked so many times I think my cock might drop off. All my spare time for the last two days has been spent on the Internet, reading everything I can find about the D/s lifestyle. And there is a lot. As Remus said, there seem to be an almost unlimited number of levels at which a person can live or play.

It's half four and still no word from Remus. Will he contact me? Has he thought better of it? No. No matter his decision, he will contact me, of this I am sure. He gave me his word, and he clearly keeps his promises.

"This came by messenger." The soft voice of one of the library volunteers whispers in my ear. I take the note, smile and turn away. She likes to flirt, and while I make no secret of my orientation, she still hasn't figured it out yet. Or perhaps that's why she flirts.

All thoughts of her leave my head as I look at the business card that falls from the envelope. The Archery Tavern. The address is the W2 area of London, an easy walk from Paddington Station. I turn it over. Ten o'clock. It is signed, RL.

The thrill that goes through me at that simple summons has my cock rock hard in seconds. I look at the clock for the thousandth time that hour. Whatever shall I do until then? I certainly can't concentrate on my studies. A smile finds its way to my face, and I turn back to my computer and Google.

---

I believe I have it worked out. Severus and I, I'm sure of it, can Apparate straight into my room at Grimmauld Place with an unconscious Artemis. I'm not going to think about what will happen if we can't – I'm sure it will work. There probably won't be anyone in the house tonight, but we can ward the room to be sure. I haven't been this excited since my fifth Christmas, and I can't help but smile. All night with my Severus and that beautiful, willing, pliant boy – I've been hard all day thinking about it.

He's already there when I arrive, sipping an ale and watching the door with shining eyes. I slip into the booth across from him. "Eager?"

"Yes." The single word is all he gives, but his eyes speak volumes.

"No second thoughts?"

"None." He grins.

I nod and check my watch. "Severus should be here in about fifteen minutes. He knows nothing about you. We will take you to the alley, then sort of... well... hypnotize you, is the best way I can describe it. You'll know nothing until we get to our destination. The same will be true coming back. You sure you're all right with that?"

"I trust you." His simple declaration is a thrill.

---

I couldn't help being early. I left myself plenty of time in case of delays, so of course everything went smoothly. I order an ale and wait, amusing myself by watching the other patrons. Remus arrives and I wave. Any little doubts I had melt away under his smile.

We talk briefly, then the waiter comes and Remus orders himself an ale and a Guinness for Severus who, he assures me, will be along shortly. The drinks have just arrived when Remus suddenly raises an arm and waves. I strain my eyes to see through the smoky dimness to the man approaching.

He is of average height and slight build. He wears a longish black leather coat, tall black boots, jeans and a white shirt. His hair is long and rather lank, but other than his large nose and formidable scowl, I can't see much of his face. He carries the air of one who takes nothing from anyone. I am grateful he is not one of my professors. He slides in beside Remus and fixes me with a stare that seems to go right through me. I'm assailed with misgivings that disappear just as quickly when I note the light in Remus' eyes as he looks at Severus.

“Severus, this is Artemis. You remember, I told you about meeting him last summer in Greece?”

Severus raises an eyebrow and I see Remus smile at some private joke.

“Remus has told me much about you.” I meet his gaze with ease.

Remus leans over and I just hear him speak into Severus' ear. “Happy Birthday, Severus.”

Severus sits perfectly still for a moment, then his eyes snap to mine. They burn with an intensity that makes my throat go dry.

"Indeed." Only an Englishman can imbue a single word with so much meaning.

"Artemis, would you mind giving us a moment to work out the details?" Remus has a gentle smile on his face.

I nod and head for the men's room, my mind in a whirl of excitement.

---

The three of us leave the Archery Tavern and duck down the adjoining alley. I take Artemis’ face in my hands and kiss him, giving Severus the chance to draw his wand unobserved. His touches the boy on the shoulder with the wand and Artemis sags against me, a dead weight. Severus moves behind him and wraps his arms around the two of us, helping me support the boy.

I manage to pull my wand and after Severus gives me a nod, I close my eyes and concentrate.

It works! My plan, which for obvious reasons couldn’t be tested, works and we soon find ourselves in my room at number twelve Grimmauld Place. Severus touches his wand to the boy again and Artemis stumbles a bit, regaining his feet. I promptly kiss him again, using my hands and the distraction of the kiss to shield Severus from sight as he moves about the room, making certain that we will not be disturbed – or overheard – in case someone else is in the old house.

The boy melts against me, returning my kiss with an open hunger that makes me burn for him. But he is not to be mine, not in the main. Tonight, if he is willing, he will have his first lesson in submission; in being the pleasure toy of another. He will not leave unsated – I smile at the thought. He will be lucky if he can walk straight when he leaves. If, of course, he is willing. I can feel his cock straining to be free of the restricting jeans, and smile. I believe he will be.

~~ end of part one ~~



Part Two