Day 8 – Anal Plugs

Day 8 – Anal Plugs

It started out as a challenge, like most things between Harry and Draco did. Their secret relationship had always been a mixture of daring, teasing, and pushing boundaries, and Draco thrived on finding new ways to make Harry squirm. Today was no different.

They had been in Draco's dormitory that morning, sharing a quiet, stolen moment before breakfast. The soft light filtering through the windows had done little to ease the tension that always simmered between them, and Draco had leaned back against his pillows, smirking up at Harry.

"I have an idea," Draco had said, his voice low and full of mischief.

Harry had raised an eyebrow, still a bit drowsy from the early hour. "What kind of idea?"

Draco had pulled something out from under his pillow—a small, sleek object that gleamed in the dim light. It took Harry a moment to realize what it was, and when he did, his face flushed. A plug. Specifically, an anal plug.

"You've got to be joking," Harry had muttered, half laughing, but the way Draco's eyes had glinted told him this was no joke.

Draco had smirked, tilting his head as he held the plug up between them. "Come on, Potter. I thought you liked a bit of adventure."

Harry's heart had raced, the idea thrilling and terrifying in equal measure. "You seriously want me to wear that… all day?"

"All day," Draco had confirmed, his smirk widening. "Think of it as a little secret between us. Something that only we know about, while everyone else is completely oblivious."

Harry had swallowed hard, his mind spinning with the thought of it—sitting through class, through meals, with this inside him, knowing that Draco was the only one who knew. The idea was mortifying, but it was also… exciting. Draco had always known exactly how to push Harry's buttons, how to mix pleasure and discomfort in ways that left him breathless.

And that was how Harry found himself here, sitting in Transfiguration, with the plug firmly in place.

Professor McGonagall's voice droned on in the background as Harry shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position. The plug inside him was small, but its presence was constant, a reminder of Draco's challenge. His robes shifted as he adjusted his position again, and he bit back a groan as the movement made the plug press deeper inside him.

From across the classroom, Draco shot him a sly grin, his silver eyes gleaming with amusement. He looked completely at ease, his quill moving lazily over the parchment as though nothing were out of the ordinary. Harry glared at him, heat rising to his face as he tried to ignore the growing discomfort—and arousal—that the plug was causing.

It was impossible to focus on anything else. Every time Harry shifted in his seat, the plug pressed against that sensitive spot inside him, sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. His mind kept drifting back to that morning, to the way Draco's hands had been so firm, so certain as he had slicked the plug with lube and pressed it into him, the sensation sharp and intimate.

"Just think of me," Draco had whispered as he slid it in, his breath hot against Harry's neck. "Think of me every time you feel it."

And now, sitting in Transfiguration, Harry was thinking of him constantly. Every little movement, every shift of his body, brought a fresh wave of heat to his cheeks and an even more insistent throb between his legs. He couldn't believe he had agreed to this—wearing an anal plug during class. It was the height of recklessness, and yet… the thrill of it had him on edge, his heart racing.

Harry's quill scratched aimlessly at his parchment, but he had no idea what he was writing. His thoughts were entirely consumed by the feeling of the plug inside him and the way Draco was watching him, his smirk growing wider by the second.

Draco had positioned himself perfectly—close enough for Harry to see him, but far enough away to avoid suspicion. Every so often, Draco would shift in his seat, his gaze flicking over to Harry with a look that made it clear he knew exactly what Harry was going through.

Harry could practically hear Draco's voice in his head. How does it feel, Potter? Does it drive you mad, knowing that I put it there?

A fresh wave of heat coursed through Harry's body, and he bit his lip, trying to keep his breathing steady. But it was impossible to focus, impossible to think about anything other than the way the plug filled him, the constant pressure making him squirm in his seat. He could feel his cock growing hard beneath his robes, the friction only adding to his growing discomfort.

He glanced down at his parchment. It was blank, save for a few scribbled notes. Harry cursed under his breath, glancing up at the clock. The class wasn't even halfway over.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall's voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and precise. "Is there something wrong? You seem… distracted."

Harry's heart stopped in his chest, and he looked up, his face flushing a deep red as every eye in the room turned to him. "N-no, Professor," he stammered, trying to keep his voice steady. "Just… lost in thought."

McGonagall's sharp gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, her brow furrowed, but after a brief pause, she nodded. "Very well. See that you stay focused."

Harry swallowed hard, forcing himself to sit up straighter, even as the movement made the plug shift inside him again. He could feel Draco's eyes on him, and he risked a glance in his direction. Draco's smirk was even more pronounced now, and he winked at Harry, the look in his eyes practically screaming enjoying yourself, Potter?

Harry clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the way his body was responding. His cock was throbbing beneath his robes, aching for some kind of release, but there was nothing he could do. He was stuck, trapped in this state of arousal, and the knowledge that Draco was watching him, enjoying his discomfort, only made it worse.

By the time class ended, Harry was a wreck. His face was flushed, his body tense with barely-contained need, and he could feel the slickness of sweat on his skin. As soon as McGonagall dismissed the class, Harry shot out of his seat, eager to escape the classroom and Draco's knowing smirk.

But Draco wasn't about to let him go that easily.

As soon as they were out of the classroom, Draco caught up with Harry, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a secluded alcove just outside the Transfiguration classroom. "What's the rush, Potter?" Draco drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. "You seemed a little… on edge back there."

Harry glared at him, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts as he tried to keep his voice steady. "You're an arsehole," he muttered, though the heat in his face and the throb between his legs made the words sound weak, even to him.

Draco's lips curled into a wicked grin, his hand slipping down to rest on Harry's hip, pulling him closer. "Is that any way to thank me?" Draco murmured, his breath hot against Harry's ear. "I'm the one who gave you such a… stimulating experience."

Harry's breath hitched as Draco's hand slid lower, his fingers brushing against the waistband of Harry's trousers. "You're going to drive me mad," Harry muttered, his voice hoarse as he pressed back against the stone wall, his body trembling with the need for release.

Draco's grin widened, his hand slipping lower, pressing against the bulge in Harry's trousers. "That's the idea," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against Harry's neck. "But don't worry, Potter. I'll take care of you."

Without another word, Draco's hand slid into Harry's trousers, wrapping around his aching cock. Harry gasped, his body jerking at the contact, the relief of Draco's touch sending a shiver down his spine.

Draco stroked him slowly, teasingly, his fingers working with practiced precision as Harry's breath came in short, desperate gasps. The plug inside him shifted with every movement, the pressure making his head spin, and the combination of Draco's hand on his cock and the fullness inside him was too much.

"Fuck—Draco," Harry gasped, his head falling back against the stone wall as Draco's hand moved faster, stroking him with a firm, unrelenting grip. "I—I can't—"

Draco's lips curled into a smirk as he pressed his body against Harry's, his other hand slipping down to toy with the base of the plug. "Come for me, Harry," Draco murmured, his voice low and commanding. "Now."

Harry's entire body tensed at Draco's words, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. With a low, choked moan, Harry came, his release spilling over Draco's hand, his body trembling with the intensity of it.

For a long moment, neither of them moved, both of them panting, their bodies pressed together in the secluded alcove. Harry's heart raced, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the last waves of pleasure slowly ebbed away.

Draco pulled back slightly, his lips curling into a satisfied smile