Used

It's not like I asked him to do it. It's not like it was my fault. Or was it?

I had always had a thing for Draco Malfoy, ever since I first layed eyes on him. Everyone knew it, including him. He knew it, and he used it against me. He had total power over me. I would succumb to his every want, his every need. He was my god and I was just a toy he liked to play with.

He had urges and desires like every other 16-year-old boy, and he used me to fulfil them.

I knew he didn't love me, even though these words sometimes slipped from his mouth when he was coming. I knew he didn't love me, but I let him do it anyway.

I tried to refuse but damn the boy was good! He could work a binding charm with his eyes shut and his arms tied behind his back. He would use just about any charm he pleased to make me stay where he wanted.

So there I would lie, on the green, satin sheets, underneath Draco's heaving body. Feeling his sweat spread over me like a warm wash. Feeling his tongue thrashing about inside my mouth.

I didn't like sex. It hurt. As much as I wanted Draco to love me, I wasn't ready for sex. He didn't care. He would take me as he pleased, then he'd brag to his friends about it. Tell them I practically begged for him.

He usually raped me about twice a week.

"It's not rape." He would say, "You want me and you know it. The whole school knows it, and if you ever tried to tell them what I do, they wouldn't believe you. They'd just think you were a slut who was trying to get me in to trouble."

I knew tonight would be the night. He hadn't been to "visit" me in four days. I lay on my bed, waiting.

I heard those dreaded footsteps coming up the stairs and I wanted to run. I wished I had the courage to stand up to him. But I was weak. He called me pathetic once. But no matter how much he hurt me, used me, abused me, I couldn't help loving him.

I kept telling myself that one day he would love me back. And that I would no longer be his toy, but his goddess. He would want me for more than just sex, and that our sex would actually mean something. Maybe then I would be ready. Maybe then it wouldn't hurt.

He entered my room and held out his wand toward the door. He put a foolproof lock on it with a simple charm, then smirked at me. He walked over to where I was sitting on the bed, staring into my terrified eyes. His silver eyes penetrated my soul and I knew I would not be able to escape. I would never be able to escape.

"Please Draco, not again."

I said that every time. His reply was always the same.

"You know you want me. I am giving myself to you. Don't struggle. There really is no point."

He pushed me back on to the bed and tore off my robes. He looked at me in my underwear and smirked, satisfied by my figure. He unzipped his pants and stripped down to his boxers. Then he launched himself on top of me.

He was rough and powerful. He removed our last shreds of clothes with no remorse.

His breathing became heavy as he hardened against me. I wanted to cry as he entered me. Cry as he thrust himself inside of me. Cry as he told me to relax and enjoy it. Cry as his tongue lashed around inside of my mouth. Cry as he came with a loud moan of pleasure.

But I didn't cry. I just lay there. I had given up on crying. I used to cry. I stopped when I realised it only made it last longer.

When he was satisfied, he pulled on his boxer shorts and looked down at me. I pulled the sheet over my naked body. I hated the way he would stare. I looked at him as he pulled on his robes.

"Thanks," he sniggered, mocking me, crushing me, with that one small word.

I gave a slight nod and he unlocked the door and left.

I could still smell him after he was gone. I could feel him. I felt sick and dirty. I had to have a shower.

The warm water fell softly over my bare skin, washing away Draco's sweat, his smell, his very essence. Until next time.