Chereads / Fate's Rewrite / Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: The Art of Manipulation

Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: The Art of Manipulation

In the morning, I had managed to wake up before Narcissa, which was a lucky turn since I had forgotten to set up an alarm. Her waking up before me would have been bad, panicking without my attempts to manage the fallout. But since I was awake before her, I had some time to prepare the field. I reached for the tube of lust cream I had leveraged last night, and spread a generous dab over her inner thigh once more, enjoying the every second my hands were exploring her skin. I wanted her to wake up horny and disoriented, which would prove productive for my manipulation attempts. With the massage complete, I wrapped my arms around her torso, and started waiting for her to wake up. Of course, my hands continued caressing her body, assisting the impact of the cream, not to mention enjoying the opportunity provided. I just did it slower, careful not to wake up.

It took a while for the cream, triggered by the cream and my touches, she started stirring. "Good morning, mom," I said, my voice cheerful. "Did you sleep well?"

"Good morning to you too, Draco," she answered, her voice as hesitant as it was the first day. "I slept well," she murmured.

"Happy to hear that, mom," I said, tightening my hold on her, my hands moving across her belly. She tried to get away, but I didn't allow despite her struggling.

"Draco," she said with a trembling voice, barely above a whisper. "I need to visit the bathroom, could you let me go please."

"Sorry, mom," I answered, loosening my arms, but caressing the bottom of her spectacular breasts, and earning an erotic tremble for my efforts. I watched as she stood up, walking towards the bathroom, not caring about the lack of her panties, her nightwear a poor substitute.

I stood up as well, and spoke before she could disappear at the bathroom door. "I have things to do as well, so I see you in the evening," I said as I walked towards her, who suddenly looked like a cornered rabbit as what I was saying clicked. Uncaring, I leaned forward and placed a small peck on her cheek, then walked away, satisfied to see her hand was raised almost automatically, caressing the trail that was left by my lips.

After a quick shower in my room, I was ready to go out to support my plans. My first destination was Grimmauld Place. It had been a week since Kreacher's amulet had been taken. He must have been tortured by its absence enough to make him willing to do anything to get it back, especially if those recommendations were about to come from a pureblood offspring of Black Family.

I appeared a few streets away from the house, already wrapped in a disillusionment charm. I saw just how good of an idea it was when I noticed two robed figure sticking like a sore thumb, clearly Death Eaters, new recruits if their sheer stupidity and incompetence was any indicator. Carefully, I walked towards the door, relaxing only after I slid under the Fidelius' cover. Then I turned the knob open, and sneaked inside.

Despite expecting, I was still startled by the sudden appearance of Kreacher, his hands raised, ready to blast. "Stop, Kreacher," I said, my voice rising in panic. I dispelled my cloaking spell after seeing no immediate attack.

"Who are you," Kreacher asked, suspicion flowing off him like a river. Still, he halted his attack, allowing me to make my case.

"I'm Draco Malfoy, Heir of the Malfoys and a son of the Blacks." The way Kreacher's face lighted up was enough to put a smile, even to the face of a cynical bastard like me. After all, the loyalty and commitment of the house elves was something to behold, especially considering just how little they expected in return. Wizards were truly idiots not showing them the slightest appreciation. "I came to visit the house of my ancestors."

"Oh young master," Kreacher wailed, hitting his head repeatedly. "Kreacher is sorry. The house is used by blood-traitors and mudbloods, and Kreacher wasn't able to keep them out. They even stole the treasures of the Black Family."

"Stop," I ordered him. While I didn't have any magical authority over him, I hoped that the respect he had for my position would be enough to make him follow my orders. My expectations turned out to be accurate. He froze for a moment, then returned to a waiting position. "I understand it's the order of the previous owner of the house, and it wasn't something you could have stopped. You are a house-elf worthy to be a part of the Black Family." His expression brightened like a Christmas tree, and his mouth opened to say something, only to close without any sound. "Good, now tell me, what did they take."

"They stole Master Regulus' amulet," Kreacher said, only to stiffen instantly, realizing it was something he should have kept hidden.

I didn't allow him any time to gather himself. "Describe it to me, and why it's important." Just like before, Kreacher acted like my orders were legitimate, proving that habits could be as strong as magic. He explained the story of Regulus Black, losing his life in an attempt to steal Voldemort's amulet. It surprised me that he opened to me that easily, but he must have been feeling truly hopeless without it. "Don't worry," I said to Kreacher, reaching to my magic. "I promise on the honor of the Black and Malfoy families that I will bring that amulet back and destroy it." The magic flared around me, sealing the promise.

"Thank you, master," Kreacher said, his voice hitched. I could understand, it was probably the first time since Regulus that someone Kreacher deemed consequential did something for Kreacher, and a magic backed promise was nothing to underestimated even between the wizards. Still, it was a very small price to receive an obsessively loyal servant in return, especially since it required nothing I didn't already have from my side.

"Good," I said. "I know you belong to another master, for now, so I want you to never mention my presence in the house to him. I know you cannot deny if directly asked without hurting, but he has no reason to suspect I came here, so he shouldn't remember to ask as long as you don't hint anything." Kreacher nodded. "Now, show me the library." I wanted to examine the knowledge treasures of the Black family while Potter was away. After all, there was a reason for Blacks to be feared across Britain, even when they were whittled to the point of extinction. I was enthusiastic about to discover these reasons.

My plan was to spend the next two months in a deep study, until the 1st of August. The date where everything would change.

I was back in the Malfoy Manor, now pest-free, because Voldemort decided to move the house of his new favorite family, Notts. Fucking squatter, I thought. It was ridiculous just how easily those so-called proud purebloods bent knees to a fucking homeless creature. Just like that, two weeks passed since I visited the Grimmauld Place, and I was studying deep in my room, when I heard a knock on the door. "Come in," I said, without even bothering to raise my head.

I heard a door opening and closing. "Hello, Draco," Narcissa said with a tender tone, one that could be mixed with a familial closeness, except the undertone of the lust, detectable only because I knew what to look for.

"Hi mom," I said, raising my head. I could see that she was wearing a night robe, and little else. The fabric was woefully inadequate for hiding anything, after all. "What brought you to my humble room?"

"I wanted to check how have you been. You were a bit distracted during the last week."

She was right, I wasn't paying attention to her during last few days. A change from the previous weeks, where I made sure to have an intimate contact with her, whether a full massage or just a casual, fleeting touch. What she didn't know, however, was that the lack of attention was intentional, because I wanted to force her to seek me. I knew that after getting used to regular massages -massages that was much more sensual than what was appropriate for the family- she was going to feel the effects of the withdrawal. "Sorry, mom," I said. "I wasn't intending to vanish like that, but I was busy with my studies." I turned my head to her, and acted like I just had an idea. "How about I give you another massage as an apology. It has been a while since we had any mother-son time."

"If that's not a bother," Narcissa murmured, but her twitching hands betraying her excitement. Assisted by the Draco's memories, she was very easy to read. Still, I was impressed by the ease I was able to break most of her taboos. Apparently, Lucius was even more distant than I assumed, neglecting such a spectacular example of womanhood. Of course, I was glad, with the breach provided by Lucius, it was almost trivial for me to invade her mind and soul. I smiled, a smile that was carefully crafted to tell that, yes, it was a bit of a bother, but I was happy to suffer it for her sake. Narcissa shed her robe almost instantly. Under it, she was wearing another nightwear, its fabric even poorer than the robe, it's semi-transparent texture not up to the task of hiding anything. This time, she was wearing underwear, but it was a lacy set that managed to exude sexiness better than nakedness.

She lay on my bed without the slightest concern, burying her face in my pillow. "Mom, remove the negligee, I want to use some massage oils this time, and let's not ruin your clothes." She followed my direction without the slightest hesitation, not commenting about the ridiculousness about her clothes being stained. After all, it took only a spell to clean it without any stain. She was on my bed, wearing only a set of skimpy underwear. It shouldn't be a surprise that I was sporting a raging hard-on, begging for a release.

I was tempted to reach for lust cream to quickly prime her before pushing my cock into her. After two weeks filled with intensive, full body massages that left no place of her body left untouched, she should be ready for it. After all, last few days, I hadn't even bothered to use the lust cream to prime her for my attention, my naked touch proving enough. I was sure that just a dash of the potion would be enough to push her enough that she shouldn't complain my cock inside her.

Still, I wasn't willing to take the risk for it, just in case she felt suspicious and decided to test her blood. The previous ones had already dissolved with no way to detect, but there was a chance they would be detected in the first twenty-four after they were applied, and I decided to not to take the risk in case she was struck with a sudden suspicion.

I didn't need it either, not with the trust I had for my own skills to convince her without any potion. I poured some massage oil to my hand, then started dragging my hands over her body. First, I started with neck, then moved to her shoulders after a brief delay. She was already moaning before I finished her back, although barely audible. Her hips rose unconsciously as I climbed up on her legs, diligently rubbing her upper thighs. I could see the fragile cloth covering her pussy was damp enough to turn half-transparent, forcing my cock to flare even harder.

As usual, no word of protest left her mouth, even when I finally reached her ass, mauling her plump cheeks without the slightest concern for shame. I could feel that it was time, proven when I hooked my fingers around her panties and pulled them down, revealing her bare, freshly shaved pussy, all without a word of protest. I slid my fingers inside her without the slightest concern about her response. I didn't fear that she would react negatively, not after I had spent a whole week massaging her to the edge of a climax, only to leave her there. She was aching for a release, her body burning with desire. And breaking the trend for the last few days just made her hungrier. After the weeks I spent playing her like a well-tuned instrument, I could easily feel an orgasm closing by, brought by a minute of concentrated attention on her wet folds.

I was so hard that it actually started to hurt. I decided enough was enough, and it was finally time to act. I pulled one of my hands away from her body, and used it to push my pants down, freeing my cock for the long-awaited second act. A shake of my legs later, I was naked waist down, ready to slip inside her. I rubbed my hand over my cock, covering it with oil. I had a feeling she would be too tight to accommodate my cock, so anything to reduce the friction was a good thing. I aligned my cock with her entrance, and took a deep breath, then pushed…

I was surprised when no words of protest left her mouth, though I had any intention of wasting the opportunity. I placed my hands on both sides of her to stabilize her body, and started slamming into her repeatedly, her tight tunnel squeezing my cock. I wondered for how long Lucius hadn't touched her, because she was as tight as a virgin. She tightened around my cock in an attempt to milk me, but I didn't want to stop, even momentarily. Stopping here would allow her to gather her wits, which was the last thing I needed. So, I continued pumping inside her repeatedly. Soon, an earthquake captured her body, leaving her trembling under me.

A minute, she just lay there, purring softly as I continued sliding inside her lazily. Then, suddenly, she let out a panicked gasp and tried to stand up, a move that was impossible thanks to my hands over her back. "Draco, what is going on? What are you doing!"

My eyebrow rose in surprise. I knew that she was deep in pleasure, but I hadn't guessed it was so deep that she had forgotten where she was, and who was delivering the massage. Still, even dubious, she had already consented to it, and I had no intention to give the control back. I grabbed her wrists and pulled her, preventing any immediate movement. "Why mom, I'm doing exactly what you want."

"Draco, you cannot do this, please stop, you are my son."

"Yes, mom," I replied enhancing my rhythm even further. "And as a dutiful son, I'm doing exactly what my mom wants."

"But this is-" she started, only to cut by a sudden moan, hard enough to rattle the glass. "This is not what I want."

Despite my best tries, a snort escaped my mouth. "Really, mom, it's not what you want," I said, tugging her arms enough to pull her chest away from the bed. "Then please explain to me, why you are in my room, naked without a protest, with the full knowledge that the previous time it happened, I pleasured you with my fingers hard enough to send to you to the land of unconsciousness. Please explain to me how you didn't want this?"

As I expected, Narcissa wasn't able to reply to my statement, though she tightened even further. I was glad to see that things were unfolding much quicker than I planned. Actually, I realized, so good that I saw no harm in pushing the process to the next step. I wrapped my arms around her torso and pulled back. Then, before she could say anything, I flipped her to a missionary position and impaled her once more, my cock forcing her tunnel to stretch. Her eyes grew in surprise, suddenly finding herself looking at me, leaving her no illusion to hide behind.

She opened her mouth to say something, but I had no need to hear her words, at least not at this moment. I pressed my lips to hers, and pushed my tongue into her mouth, arresting her words before they could leave her lips. She stiffened in shock, her body coming to a complete standstill under my intimate attention. I hadn't slowed down even for a moment, my cock sliding in and out, again and again, trying to dispel her shock. Still, I wasn't expecting success this early, which was why I was surprised when her lips started to reply my assault, slow, hesitantly, but replying nevertheless.

I didn't slow down for another ten minutes, slamming her repeatedly in the missionary position, in which she experienced another shattering climax that left her limp for a moment. A moment I sped up mercilessly, until her vitality came back amongst muffled moans. Then I pulled back. She looked surprised for a moment, feeling the absence of my lips. Our eyes met for a moment, guilt, shock, and pleasure dancing in her eyes, then she tried to avert her eyes. "Don't avoid my eyes, mother" I ordered in a deliberately husky tone.

She straightened her neck and started looking my eyes as soon as the order left my mouth, not even the slightest delay in following the order, though I could see the doubt. "Why son," she said in a trembling tone. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why, mom, asking like that, one would think that you are unwilling," I said, unable to stop a mocking taste to color my tone.

"Of course I'm," she said, trying to sound stern, but it was an exercise in vain, considering half of the words that left her mouth was drowned by her moans, removing the bite she tried to inject.

"Really, mother," I said, not letting my beat even for a second. "If you are that dissatisfied with the situation, you only need to say stop, and we will stop, and I will never touch you again."

I knew that such a statement was daring. If she managed to utter the word in a momentary daze or panic, it would throw my plan back a month at best. I had no intention to actually respect her wish of course, but that would change the dynamics quite a bit. So, when she opened her mouth, a wave of panic passed through me. I did the first thing that came to my mind, I quickened my beats, pushing my cock even deeper into her, hoping a last-minute flare of pleasure would be enough to dissuade her from her idea. Her mouth stayed open for almost a minute. A long, drawn-out minute. But in the end, the noise that left her mouth was limited to wordless moans.

"Good choice, mother," I said, and leaned for another kiss. This time, surprising me even further, her tongue was active. Not active enough to actively try to push into my mouth, not even enough to meet mine on the halfway. Still, it was enough to caress my tongue as I aggressively explored her mouth. I could feel my pleasure building up. "I'm about to cum, mother," I said, pulling back, enjoying the pure look of panic on her face before locked her lips once more. I started sprouting inside her as she trembled in throes of yet another orgasm, her walls squeezing to extract the last few errant drops. I pulled away from her lips once more, and whispered. "You are mine, mother."

She said nothing. I smiled.