Pain or pleasure. In the end, it didn't matter. Cho craved both.
The flogger dangled from his fingers, dark leather brushing her raised thigh. Cho whimpered, clutching the cuffs that bound her wrists to the suspension bar above. She had read about this. Bought pensieve memories from shady Knockturn dealers just to see it. She had imagined what it would feel like.
None of it came close.
"Scared, Cho?" Potter asked quietly.
"Yes," she breathed.
"Of me, or the flogger?"
"You."
"Why?"
"I've… played with a flogger before, but I don't think… I think it will be very different if you're the one using it."
"Smart girl." He flicked her nipple with practiced precision. She gasped. A few more like that and she'd cum. Hard.
She was soaked already. Cedric had to work her for fifteen minutes just to get her halfway. Harry hadn't even touched her properly. She thrust her hips forward in silent invitation, desperate.
Bracing her hips, she thrust her chest forward, begging him without words to touch her.
Harry stepped back. Cho nearly growled.
"I gave you chances to leave, Chang. That door is closed now." His voice was calm, final. "But you still have the safe word—Diggory."
She stared at him. "You gave me my boyfriend's name as the safe word?"
"Yes. Because when you say it, it'll remind you exactly what you're trying to exceed. That there's a line. One you begged me to cross. And when you say it… you'll know you failed."
The fucking bastard. Cho didn't know if she wanted to scream at him or fall to her knees. Probably both.
"Here's the deal," he said. "Use the safe word, and the scene pauses. I'm the Master here. You belong to me, body and voice. I'll decide if we just need a different lesson."
Her lip trembled. "I thought safe words meant stop."
Harry tilted his head. "You want this. If you didn't, you wouldn't still be here."
She lowered her gaze.
"I won't go easy on you."
"I… I don't want you to, Master."
THWACK!
Cho screamed. Her bindings jerked taut as the flogger bit into her thigh.
"Morgana's tits—are you trying to torture me? This isn't fun anymore!"
"Fun? Go back to Hufflepuff for fun. This is instruction. Tell me, do you even know the difference between soft and hard beating?"
THWACK!
"NO, I —"
THWACK!
"—DON'T! FUCK! IT HURTS!"
"The difference is in the marks. Flogging is light. Your skin'll be red for a few hours. Maybe bruised. Paddles, canes, whips? That's hard."
"But I thought spanking—"
He laughed—cold and cruel. "Spanking is foreplay. Something little girls ask for when they want to pretend to be punished. This? This is discipline."
Her breath hitched. "Are you… punishing me?"
THWACK!
"Oh no," he whispered, striking her arse this time.
"I'm just beating you because I want to."
THWACK!
"And because you like it."
THWACK!
"Crave it."
THWACK!
"Need it."
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
Cho yelped again, her body jumping with each strike. Tears welled in her eyes. She wanted him to stop. She wanted him to kiss her. But most of all—she wanted to win. To endure.
"Back in position."
She flinched away. The last blow had burned down to bone. Her thighs were on fire.
"You're testing me now, girl."
"M…master, it hurts."
"Of course it does. That's the point."
"But I— I don't want it to hurt."
"Too bad. I decide when you feel pain. I decide if you need pleasure."
Something deep inside her cracked open. She turned around, face streaked with tears, and bent back into position.
THWACK!
The blow kissed the back of her thighs, then her arse. She shook, tension winding her body like a bowstring.
Then, like a snapped thread, her resistance gave away to a small sob.
THWACK!
Another.
THWACK!
A whimper this time.
THWACK!
Another.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
She was sobbing. She was whimpering. She was writhing. She was moaning. Her outrage had faded, replaced by a dark need. A need for pain, a need to give up all sense of control.
"Back in position. Bend at the waist!"
Still trembling, Cho turned around, and presented her back again.
She hid her face against her forearms. Part of her was amazed that she was doing this, that she hadn't walked out. A larger part of her desperately wanted to know how far he would take it, how much he would do to her.
THWACK!
This time the blow landed on the back of her thighs, avoiding her arse. The reprieve was short-lived, as the tails of the flogger once more landed on her sensitive arse.
She was tensing before each blow, whole body drawn tight in anticipation. For what felt like an hour but could have been no more than five minutes, he kept up a steady rhythm, the strength and placement of them alternating.
"Ah!"
"Ah!"
At first she tried to keep it to whimpers and soft moans, but like her resistance, her voice gave away, and she became louder, and louder, and louder.
"AAAHH!"
Relax, she told herself. You can't control this. Can't stop this.
The words freed something inside her. Cho sobbed some more, feeling lighter as the tears evaporated the tension in her form. When the next blow came she accepted it, her soft flesh taking in the pain more readily.
THWACK!
Her arse was raw, her legs trembling. Each strike was fire. But the pain began to blur, melt into something else.
"Mmmmm…."
"Open your legs."
She obeyed without question.
The flogger teased her pussy now—light strokes, playful taps. And suddenly, she wasn't sure if the pleasure was real or imagined. All she knew was that her body shook with it.
"Can you come from pain alone?"
"I— I don't know—"
THWACK!
Right on her clit. Pain and pleasure erupted together.
"I'm not sure, Master—!"
Potter rested a warm palm on her back. "These next few will be the hardest."
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
She didn't scream this time. Couldn't, actually. Her breath caught in her chest as the climax took her by surprise—hot and violent, pouring down her thighs. She collapsed, catching his forearm to stay upright.
Had she really just… cum? From pain?
The world tilted.
"Master… please?"
"What do you want? To get fucked?"
Cho reached up, touched his cheek.
"Kiss me."
He blinked—hesitating. Then bent his head until their foreheads touched.
She could feel the tension in him. She kissed him. And it was soft, wet, and hungry. His arms crushed her to him, his tongue filling her mouth. Cho moaned, rubbing herself on his thigh, her body aching to be claimed.
But then he pulled away, flicked his wand, and the dungeon around her vanished.
Cho dropped to her knees, gasping. Her skin was electric with pain. Her cunt dripped from release. Her whole body was throbbing with confusion and need, her mind empty but for one thing — him.
She had come from pain.
She hadn't known that was possible.
The flogger hung limp in his hand, dark leather still damp with the heat of her skin. She had come — violently — from pain alone, her body wrung dry and still somehow hungry.
Harry stepped forward, casting long shadows over her naked, kneeling form.
She looked up.
Her hair was a mess, tears and sweat streaking her cheeks, her chest heaving with each breath. She looked up, revealing her soft lips, red from all the biting.
"Master…" she whispered. "Please…"
He didn't respond.
Slowly, she inched forward on her knees. "I… I need it. I need you."
His silence was a weight that pressed against her like a hand to the throat.
No sex, he had said. Service.
She stopped before him, eyes fixated on the bulge beneath his trousers. She licked her lips.
"Let me serve you," Cho whispered, trembling with a need she couldn't name. "I want to serve you."
Harry's gaze was unreadable. "How?"
The words tasted strange. She knew he was studying her, testing her, all the while letting the moment stretch like a wire between them.
"With my mouth, Master."
He arched an eyebrow.
"I have a werewolf in my bed night after night. What can you offer me that she can't?"
Jealousy and competition surged through Cho. Hermione Granger was like that ever-present third wheel when it came to Harry Potter. For Cho, who prided on being peerless, Hermione Granger was that one itch that just refused to go away, raising its head at the most inopportune of times.
"I guess I can offer you a chance," said Harry. "But remember. You'll speak only when I allow it. You'll touch only what I permit. You'll look only when I command. Understood?"
"Yes, Master."
"Prove it."
She bowed low until her forehead touched the cold stone floor.
"I exist to serve."
"Better," he murmured.
With a flick of his wand, his trousers fell to the floor. The boxers followed. Cho kept her eyes down, heart pounding. She could feel the heat radiating from him, smell his musk.
"Well?" he asked, mocking. "Are you going to just stare at it?"
Cho leaned forward and kissed the tip.
"Use your tongue."
She obeyed, flicking her tongue against the head, tracing the ridge, tasting the sharpness of salt and skin. Then slowly, she opened her mouth wider and took him in.
She barely managed a few inches.
"Pathetic," Harry muttered.
Cho tried again. She bobbed her head, messy and uncertain. Her tongue fluttered, her lips sealed tightly around him, but there was no rhythm. No grace.
And from his annoyed stiffness, no satisfaction.
Harry placed his hand on her head.
"Do you know what you look like?"
She paused, looking up through wet lashes.
"A girl pretending to be a whore," he said coldly. "A virgin acting out fantasies she stole from someone else's memories."
Shame struck like a whip. But she didn't pull back. Instead, she tried harder, going deeper, sloppier, more desperate.
He let her choke for another minute before yanking her off with a wet gasp.
"Did I tell you to stop?".
"No—Master, I—"
SMACK!
"Your job is to please, not apologize. Get that through your pretty, empty head."
Cho nodded, tears stinging her eyes.
Harry gripped her jaw and forced her to look up at him.
"I've had better from Slytherin sluts in empty broom closets. Do you want to be just another forgettable mouth?"
"No, Master."
"Then listen. Open your mouth. Hands behind your back. You'll take what I give you, how I give it. No hesitation. No complaints."
"Yes, Master."
"Now. Stick out your tongue."
She obeyed.
He slapped the tip of his cock against it once.
"Open. Wider."
He fed himself into her mouth, inch by inch. She fought the reflex to pull back, relaxing her throat, pushing past instinct. Her lips stretched painfully around him.
"Good girl," he said. "Now we begin."
He grabbed her hair and began to thrust — slow and shallow at first, testing her limits, and then slowly increasing his speed.
"Look at you," he murmured, voice laced with cruel delight. "The Ravenclaw star pupil. Seeker. Academic darling. Now just another warm hole for me to use."
Cho moaned around him, humiliation sending a thrill through her chest.
"Cedric ever treat you like this?" he asked, pushing deeper. "Or did he worship you like a porcelain doll?"
Cho gagged. Her throat burned. Saliva leaked from the corners of her lips.
"You're going to learn what real service means."
He withdrew halfway, then shoved in deeper, hitting the back of her throat. She gagged again — louder this time — but kept her lips tight around him.
"Don't you dare spill a drop," he hissed. "If I come, you'll swallow it. Or I'll make you lick it off the floor."
A new heat surged through Cho's core.
She moaned again, louder. Her face was flushed, her vision blurred. Her thighs clenched tight.
"Touch yourself."
She did. One hand slipped between her legs, frantic, clumsy. Her folds were soaked. She rubbed her clit in time with his thrusts, barely able to breathe, but entirely focused on the rhythm of his cock inside her mouth.
"Use your tongue," he ordered. "Massage me."
She obeyed, her tongue swirling around the shaft, trying to flatten and glide even as he pumped into her.
"You're learning," he muttered. "You might be worth training after all."
Her moan was broken and low. She couldn't speak. Could barely think.
Then — he stopped.
Cho whimpered.
He pulled out, letting his cock rest across her face. Slapped her cheek with it again.
"Look at you," he said. "Kneeling in your own drool. Your House would be mortified."
She gasped for air, dazed. "Please… let me finish."
"You want to make me cum?"
"Yes, Master."
"Then earn it."
He pushed her down again, gripping her skull. This time, he didn't go slow. His cock surged back into her mouth, pushing deep, riding past her lips, past the resistance. She gagged, again and again, but didn't stop. She was choking — but also rubbing herself with wild abandon.
He began to grunt.
"You feel that?" he growled. "That pulse? That's your reward."
Cho clenched around nothing. She was close. So close.
He drove forward one last time — and came.
Cho tried to swallow, but it was too much. Some spilled out, coating her lips, chin, even her chest. Harry pulled out slowly, letting the last spurt splatter across her cheek.
Her breath came in ragged bursts. Her cheeks flushed red, her body still trembling from the force of her own orgasm, which had stolen through her like a rogue wave, unexpected and uncontrollable.
"…Did I serve well?"
Her voice was hoarse. Her throat was aching. But she needed the answer more than air.
"You're… well, not completely useless."
Her stomach twisted.
That was all?
"Not useless," he repeated, tilting her chin up with two fingers. "You have instincts, and a lot of potential. But you're undisciplined. Sloppy. You gag too easily. You rush. As you are, you've a long way to go before becoming my best whore."
Cho bit her lip.
"But…"
She looked up hopefully.
"…you didn't give up," he finished. "Even when it hurt. There's a kind of beauty in that. A girl that wants to be broken, just to see if she survives it. So you'll train. You'll practice. And you'll wait until I decide you're worthy of being used again."
"Yes, Master."
Her lips were trembling. But her eyes… they shone.
He stood. Adjusted his trousers. And reached for his wand.
"Please…" she whispered. "Don't leave me yet."
His eyes narrowed.
"You think this is about you?"
"No, Master. I just—" she swallowed, voice shaking, "—I just — just…"
Harry tilted his head.
"Affection is a reward," he said coldly. "Not a right. Remember that well."
Cho nodded blindly. Darkness was closing in. And then, she knew no more.
….
When Cho woke up, she found herself in her bed in the Ravenclaw Tower. She was still naked as the day she was born, but at least she was under the covers, in the safety of her warded dorm bed. How she had come from the unused classroom to here was a true mystery, and there was no doubt who was responsible for it.
A small smile floated on her lips.
Seems like that not all of the old Harry Potter she knew was gone after all.
Despite the soreness, Cho couldn't help but wonder — just how had Potter done it? Disillusionment charms were NEWT material, and even if Potter was precocious enough to somehow know and master it, she doubted he was able to travel all the way from the fourth floor, all the way to Ravenclaw tower, solve the riddle, dodge past the defences preventing males from entering the female dormitories — finding her bed, bypassing her protections to get her to her bed — and put a cover over — while constantly maintaining two simultaneous disillusionment charms.
Boy-Who-Lived or not, Harry Potter was still human.
Her hands went down to touch her sore places, and much to her surprise, the pain was missing. The distinct soreness was still there, remnants of last night's play, but the pain was missing. Yawning, Cho slowly sat up. She hadn't slept well, her dreams a chaotic mix of erotic fantasies, all of them featuring a certain green-eyed Gryffindor.
Then she noticed a strange, rough feeling beneath her arse.
It was a piece of parchment, and on it was written —
Astronomy Tower. Monday night. After Dinner. Kneel.
No signature. Just the smell of him, faint but unmistakable.
She read it three times.
Then brought it to her lips.
The light through the high windows was soft, filtered by snow drifting outside. The Ravenclaw dorm was quiet. She rolled out of bed gingerly and padded toward the showers, a thin towel clutched around her. Making sure that nobody was there around, Cho slowly got off her bed and walked into the shower.
… And stumbled into her friend Marrieta Edgecombe walking out of the toilet.
"Cho—bloody hell." Marietta's eyes widened, catching sight of her friend. "Your back."
Cho froze.
She hadn't thought about how she looked. She didn't need to. She felt the marks still there, faint but undeniable — like fingerprints pressed into her skin.
Marietta took a step closer, towel slipping as she reached out.
"Did someone hex you? There's—are those bruises?"
Cho didn't flinch. Didn't even blink.
"Marks," she said. "From a flogger."
Marietta blinked. "A what?"
"A flogger," Cho repeated coolly, brushing past her. "You hit someone with it. Repeatedly. For pain. And pleasure."
Marietta stared, caught between fascination and horror.
"You're not serious."
"I'm Ravenclaw. I'm always serious."
Marietta followed her, voice uncertain. "But… why would you let someone hurt you like that?"
Cho paused at the mirror. Her reflection was a mess — flushed skin, hair still tangled. Lips still swollen. She looked…
Different.
Like someone who'd survived something.
Like someone who wanted to do it again.
"I didn't let him hurt me," Cho said. "I asked him to."
The silence was thick as steam.
Cho turned toward her, very slowly, and let the towel fall. Her back was a tapestry of fading red lines. Some soft. Some angry. All were deliberate.
Marietta inhaled sharply. "That… doesn't look fun."
Marietta had only made her transition from the sweet virgin to tasting the kinky experiences of cocksucking. Honestly, Cho had always believed Marietta was being a little insecure. Giving a blowjob on the first date? Who did that? If that wasn't the easiest route to developing a reputation of blowjob-queen, or worse, a broom, Cho didn't know what was.
She wouldn't be able to say that from now on, not after last night.
"It wasn't."
"Then why—?"
"Because it wasn't supposed to be."
She stepped into the shower, turned the water on. Let it cascade down her body like a second baptism.
Marietta lingered at the doorway.
"It's called beating, Marietta. As in, Bondage. Sexual bondage."
She conveniently ignored the part where she had attempted a most sloppy blowjob and gotten berrated out of it, followed by a most vicious face-fucking.
If Marietta was having this sort of reaction from watching her red arse, she'd probably faint or run away screaming if she had one look at the equipment Potter had conjured.
No point scaring the other girl.
"Did… Cedric do that to you?"
Cho laughed. "No."
"Then who—?"
Cho didn't answer. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back beneath the water.
Marietta watched. Her voice, when it came, was quieter.
"…Did you like it?"
Cho opened her eyes.
"I needed it."
Another silence. Then Marietta asked, almost shyly, "What does it feel like?"
Cho turned back toward her.
"It feels like surrender," she said. "Like being undone — completely — and wanting more. Even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts."
The idea of having her belly button clamped and chained to her clamped nipples, all the way to the collar around her neck, the cuffs in both hands —
Cho felt something pool below her stomach.
Great! Now she was getting wet just from the imagination alone. Could she be any worse?
Marietta's cheeks were crimson. She looked down.
"I didn't know you were into that sort of stuff. You've changed."
Cho stepped close — water still dripping down her body — and leaned in.
"Yes," she said. "I have."
She brushed past her friend, wrapping the towel back around herself, leaving a trail of steam in her wake.
She would heal. She would put back her mask. Be the perfect Ravenclaw.
And then, on Monday night, after dinner, she'd kneel on top of the Astronomy tower.
Just like her Master had commanded.