Fic: Being a Good Boy (Harry/Ginny)
To: hildigunnur
From: millieweasley


Title: Being a good boy
Author: millieweasley
Gift for: hildigunnur
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Rating: NC-17
Warning: BDSM
Beta: You know who you are :)
Summary: All Harry wants to be is hers.



She is standing before him in nothing more than her high black leather boots and a riding crop, her hair falling like a burning halo around her shoulders, and a wicked smile playing in the corner of her lip. He is lost when he sees her and wants to beg for mercy – or more – even before they start.

'You haven't been a good boy,' he tells him and he feels the shiver go through his body.

'I'm sorry,' he murmurs, trying to be good and look down in submission, but failing because she is right there, so close, and her breasts are pert and covered with freckles and oh so beautiful that the only thing he can think of is how much he wants to touch them.

He knows she won't let him do that though, not now, not when she's in this mood, not when her eyes demand his complete and utter submission. He finally lowers his head and hears her move to stand behind him.

'What happens to naughty boys?' she asks, running the riding crop along his spine. He shivers in anticipation, his cock growing harder as he waits.

'They get punished,' he manages to say, his voice hoarse with arousal and his senses alerted to the pain that's going to come.

He can hardly remember how it all began, but he likes to think of it as something that started as a game shortly after their wedding. Still, in truth, Harry has to admit that it had started even before then. A playful banter led to a slap on the arse, which led to a snog in the hallway. A nipple pinched too hard led to a moan. Frantic sex against a rough wall led to bruises and cuts and a needed relief in a time when desperation was all they knew.

And then, nothing much for the longest time. Until after they were married.

It is odd, really, how it started again, almost as if it never ended. As if rough was the way it had always been.

He can't quite explain what had happened for them to get to that point. There had been a fight, and there had been slaps. Only he’d not been angry or sad that she'd slapped him – just aroused. He’d never said anything, but Ginny had noticed in the way he held her that night. It had been she who suggested a game. He’d agreed without hesitation, never knowing where the game would lead him.

When had it stopped being a game? Harry wasn’t sure. Maybe when Ginny had bought him the collar that said ‘Property of Ginny Potter’, demanding that he'd never take it off around the house? Or when he’d come from her paddling him alone? Or maybe that time when she forced him to wear a butt-plug to a Quidditch game (which made for very uncomfortable flying and a lot less uncomfortable shagging in the shower afterwards)?

In any event, it wasn’t a game any longer. Hadn’t been a game for years. He was simply…hers.

If there is anything Harry takes pride in, it's being Ginny's. He does everything she asks, hoping she'll reward him, begging for her to punish him when he fails to do it right. To him she is perfection. To him there is no sight more precious than her face filled with pleasure, her pert freckled breasts bouncing as she rides him hard, his hands dying to touch her but tied up to prevent him doing so.

That is almost the worst punishment she can give him – refusing him to touch her. Yet today, he fears that is just what he's going to get.

She pushes him forward with the sole of her boot, exposing his arse. 'Up,' she orders, and Harry moves, standing on his hands and knees, his arse high as he hears the sound of the riding crop cutting the air loud just before the blow lands on the cheek of his arse.

He cries out, in pain from the blow, and pleasure from the submission. Then again as the riding crop lands on his arse once more. His cock is throbbing with need and want, begging to be touched, but he knows better than to touch himself. He knows it will displease her.

The collar around his neck tenses as she attaches a leash, and he gasps as she pulls him up to his knees and moves to stand in front of him. For a moment, she does nothing more than stare into his eyes, the warmth of her gaze heating him in spite of the slight chill in the room. Then she takes his hands and ties them above his head.

Harry groans. He knows he's been a very bad boy now.

He doesn't beg her to stop, to let him go. He knows it's useless and will only make her angry. Instead he submits. Submits to her wish, to the pleasure and pain he knows is coming. He gasps as he feels the cock ring secured around his prick. The tension rising as it squeezes his cock.

She smirks. Then she moves behind him again, pushing him slightly forward before pushing her tongue in between his arse cheeks, thrusting her tongue inside him. He moans and bucks his hips as much as the restraints will let him, hanging in the ties as she fucks him with her tongue.

He is reduced to shivers and sensations and he closes his eyes and groans loudly, involuntarily bucking his hips against Ginny's tongue. She punishes him by pulling back and giving him another swipe of the riding crop.

'Forgive me,' he whispers hoarsely, his cock painfully hard, desperate for a release he knows won't come anytime soon.

She chuckles as she moves again, pulling out a chair and sitting down in front of him. 'Maybe,' she says teasingly, spreading her legs to show him her cunt.

Harry groans, leaning forward to try and reach her. He doesn't, his face so close he can smell her arousal and see her cunt glistening from how wet she is.

'Are you going to be a good boy?' she asks huskily.

He nods, swallowing hard to steady his voice. 'Yes,' he pants.

She smirks as she waves her wand and thereby allows him to move forward. The ties are still holding his hands above his head, but he can lean further forward, he can taste her if not touch her.

She moans softly as his tongue flicks over her clit, and he tries his best to keep her satisfied. He knows what she wants and likes, and he knows how to give it. He wants to be good, he wants to please her and her moans are the confirmation that he's doing well.

'So fucking good,' she moans and he almost grins with pride when she bucks her hips and rides his tongue. She shakes when she comes, her legs spread wide and her head thrown back. Harry looks up as much as he dares – never seizing the assault of his tongue on her clit but not wanting to miss out on how she looks either.

She is gorgeous when she comes.

Her skin is shining in this light. Her breasts are pointing up when she arches her back and Harry groans at the sight, wanting nothing more than to touch them, to lick them and taste them. His groan pleases her, he knows, because she bucks her hips up further and fists her hand in his hair to push him harder against her cunt. She cries out, and Harry almost does too. He knows what her cries are worth.

A flick of her wand and Harry's hands are no longer held above his head. Instead Ginny uses the sole of her boot to push him to the floor, where he lies still and waits for her, his whole body trembling with need and want as she lowers herself onto him.

She starts out slow, riding him like they have all the time in the world. It's teasing and fantastic and not nearly enough to sate him. The ring around his cock is still holding him back and he groans as much from pleasure as from pain when he arches up to thrust inside her.

He breast bounces as she moves and he can barely breathe from the lust and pleasure that fills him. He is reduced to nothing but his urges, and he begs her, pleads with her to let him touch her. There will be consequences later, but he doesn't care. All he cares about is touching her, feeling her skin under his fingers.

He groans loudly when she lets him, reaching out and cupping her breasts the moment his hands are let lose completely. She arches into his touch and rides him faster, one of her hands moving down to stroke her clit as she moves closer to climax.

She comes with his name on her lips. With a look of pure pleasure on her face as she lets her head fall back. Her hair is long enough to tickle the base of his cock and Harry arches up and groans. He wants to come, needs to spill deep inside her, but the cock ring is still in place and he can't.

He starts begging without thinking, needing the release as badly as he needs air. She smiles as she reaches down to undo the ring, and groans as he pushes fiercely inside her, coming so hard he nearly blacks out.

When he comes too she is lying on top of him, still panting heavily. He smiles and kisses her forehead, so overwhelmed by the feeling of love and need that he wants to hold her and never let go.

'You were a bad boy begging like that,' she reminds him with a soft voice.

'Then you'd better punish me,' he replies, a happy, sated grin on his face.

'I will,' she says, looking up at him and smiling. She reaches up and kisses him quickly. 'After you've joined me in the shower. You're going to wash my back,' she continues with a wink before rising and heading off.

Harry smirks and gets up from the floor. Sometimes her orders aren't hard to obey at all.