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The characters and the situations within these fanfiction stories are not my property. They are the property of J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and others, and are used without permission. No profit is being made from the use of these characters and situations; these written-down imaginings are only presented in an internet forum for the interest of and consumption by the like-minded individuals who enjoy them and recognize them as unauthorized fanfiction only, and are not in any way meant to be confused with the originals NOR presented as authorized materials of these owners.
Measureless to Man
Summary: Lily doesn't want advice, but she wants to be forewarned.
Kinks/Warnings: Femmeslash, Dubious consent, Pregnancy (female), Lactation.
Notes: For the Pornish Pixies Fantasy Fest request made by lythian -- "Think expectant mothers club, Narcissa just given birth showing other girls a good ti(m)e. 3 players max 2 is good, no incest! pregnancy/nursing tips distributed during onslaught would make me laugh but i leave it in your capable hands"
Thanks to betas fabularasa and alexandralynch.
The title comes from Coleridge's Kubla Khan. (found here if you wish)
"You'll be sorry you haven't a house-elf," said
Narcissa, handing the squalling red bundle off to the large-eyed
creature, who took it and began a ridiculous bobble-step and equally
ridiculous croon about daisies and nifflers. Ridiculous or not, the
house-elf clearly knew what it was doing, as baby Draco (what a name,
thought Lily) went from squalling to hiccoughs to simple grunty noises
that were reasonably tolerable to the ear in a matter of moments.
It's different when they're your own. Different when they're your own, Lily told herself for the billionth time. That week.
She couldn't blame James. She'd been just as pleased by the idea of starting a family. But...that was the problem; it was the idea that was pleasing. Not the prospect of hourly feedings and changings and spit-ups and the days you couldn't be arsed to do a simple cleaning charm on yourself, or the house, or the baby, you were so tired. She couldn't wait to stop being pregnant, no question, but the reality of meeting the tot presently kicking her bladder in fierce ignorant happiness had her nerves at the breaking point. What if the little ankle-biter gave her no more maternal joy, once she had to take care of the thing, than that puffy squalling thing in the ruffled satin bunting?
"James's mother offered us a house-elf as a baby present," she said by way of filling in the silence (with something other than Draco's grunts). "But their Fleta is such a sad little creature. If I had her, she'd be on the receiving end of my ugliest maternity robe in a second. And I didn't fancy annoying my mother-in-law with that kind of gesture, so, better to say no thank you at the outset."
Narcissa trilled. Lily had always hated that laugh. "I'd call you a soft-hearted, silly thing, except I know that to be untrue. You're no more soft-hearted than a harpy. That's good." Her smile was harder, unfitting that girlish laugh. "No mother-to-be can afford to be."
Lily could read that smile. That smile said it understood why Lily was there, even though Lily could hardly put it into words herself. She didn't like Narcissa--hated the bloody woman. Hated her and her pureblooded house and pureblooded husband and her undisguised contempt for all things muggle--and muggle-born. So why had she accepted Narcissa's imperious summons--nothing like an invitation--to visit and learn first-hand what was expected of a mother with a wizarding newborn? The Malfoys were ruddy Death Eaters, no one didn't doubt, and Sirius thought it was also likely of most wizards born a Black. Why had she come?
Because she wanted to know. Because as kind as her in-laws had been about their son marrying a muggle-born, there had been the whispers from the others, the open sneers at their wedding, that all of James's and Sirius's "Fuck them and their bloody Lord and Lady Muck arseholeishness" couldn't completely make better. And the healers meant well, but they weren't in the habit of telling her what was best for the baby like she meant best. They kept giving her all of these choices, and normally Lily had to be allowed choices or she'd fight like a caged wild thing, but now she wanted to know how it was done. The way bloody purebloods thought you should raise a child and no other, and she couldn't get that from the healers and she certainly couldn't get that from her sister (even if Petunia had been willing to share anything with her freak sister) and she couldn't ask her in-laws because they were the ones she wanted to impress, dammit.
She didn't care if it was stupid. She didn't care that Narcissa had been a right bitch in asking her to come. Probably worried their circles were going to cross in a way they never had at Hogwarts, Lily being a Potter now, and the less she had to witness uncouth mudblood ignorance in Lily and in her children, the better.
She didn't even have to take any of Narcissa's advice, if she didn't want. But she'd know what it was. And she could be prepared with her own damned arguments for not doing everything the fucking pureblood way, thankyouverymuch.
Narcissa's knowing smile. It crept over her in a way that made Lily think of Legilimency. But no. That was silly. "Men don't understand," Narcissa went on. "They look at us, their dear sweet little wives, who must be protected, mustn't be exposed to anything nasty. They pat our hands and think they're the strong ones, and they have no idea." She'd folded her hands, expression almost dreamy now. "Who takes their seed and transforms it into life? Why, we do. We create that. We nurture that life with our bodies, with our own blood and pain and risk, and once we have created it, Merlin help the man who tries to harm it. We'd die for it, kill for it. Because it is our place. Because it is our pleasure. Because it is our power."
Lily wondered what other words beginning with p the woman could have slipped at the end of that list, had she chosen.
"The word mother is just another word for warrior, Lily-girl."
Did I give you permission to call me that? thought Lily. But she crossed her arms above her belly--the baby was squirming about and the pressure was intense, blast it--and said nothing.
If Narcissa noticed her annoyance she pretended she didn't. "Men are such fools not to know that. But then, we like to keep them fools, don't we?" Her smile was still knowing, but not so hard. "Doesn't it amuse you to see James staring at you like you're some Sphinx, full of mysteries that you only let out in riddles? Even in our most intimate moments--during sex--we don't like to give them instructions, do we? That would make them too confident."
It could have been the moment for her to smile conspiratorially back, make Narcissa think she was winning her over. Why didn't she? Because, Lily realized, the statement seemed too close to the truth, and that made her uncomfortable. "James is very attentive," she said, as dry-voiced as the other woman.
Narcissa cocked a cool eyebrow. "Oh, hasn't the man even the civility to give his pregnant wife a rest, now that he's secured his dynasty? Really, just like men to be such beasts."
"Dammit!" False politeness be damned. She'd gone too far. "You're twisting it all around." She badly wanted to sit down, but her indignation demanded she stay on her feet.
That laugh was back. "Of course I am, darling. I'm trying to see your true colors, don't you realize. But of course you do." She took a step closer. "You realized it as soon as I said 'beasts.' Men may be beasts, but that's no insult. Women are beasts as well; didn't I just say that?"
Lily kept her lips pinched. She wasn't going to pretend to be placated.
"And how sweet you are, to defend your husband like that--Dobby, Draco's asleep; put him in his crib and leave us." The house-elf settled the limp baby--much prettier now that he was sleeping--into the crib as Narcissa went on. "We love our men even with all their faults, don't we?"
"You make it impossible for me to answer anything you say," Lily said, in the same dry voice.
"You're not being disloyal if you answer, merely female." Narcissa moved a stuffed puffskein away from Draco's face--no, wait, the thing was real. "And I didn't really mean that a woman's lusts should diminish just because she's pregnant. I know what nonsense that is firsthand."
Lily found it disturbing how easily she was able to forget her thoughts about how safe a live puffskein might be in a newborn's crib, in favor of an image of pregnant Narcissa searching for the most comfortable coupling position with her husband, much as she and James did now. Slightly less disturbing was the pleasurable liquid surge it provoked. She was used to the discovery that anything and everything got her aroused when she was pregnant--even the idea of ice queen Narcissa Malfoy going at it.
"Lucius, for all his manly image, never quite believed he wouldn't hurt me or the baby, while I was pregnant. Isn't that frustrating of them?"
"Yes." The word was out before she could check it. Clever of Narcissa, to include all men, and with them James, in that. Why had she even bothered to answer?
Because it was true, and it was the first time she'd had anyone speak of it. (Damn Petunia, all over again.)
"And of course, once the baby's delivered, then they want sex right away--when, ironically, as you're nursing, your arousal isn't nearly what it was before."
Because she wanted to feel contrary--she didn't, and she wanted to--Lily tested the waters by saying, "I don't know if I want to nurse. There are splendid baby formulas, made with all the best nutrients and..." She trailed off, seeing the look on Narcissa's face. Not mocking. Not about to laugh again, no. Livid.
"You idiot girl. How you got to be Head Girl at Hogwarts I'll never know, because you really know nothing, do you?" Narcissa turned her back on the crib entirely. "You give your child your own protection with your breastmilk. Muggle formulas--are you a witch or not?" Lily could see Narcissa's own bosom heaving with her anger. "No, of course not. You'll always reek of your Muggle blood--" Lily knew that only a supreme amount of breeding prevented Narcissa using the cruder term--" and your half-blooded spawn will reek no less. Is that what you want for them? Merlin and Morgana, girl, they're going to be Potters--how can you do this to a family of such heritage as theirs?"
"You bloody little inbred tart." Lily snarled. "Don't bother calling back your house-elf--I'll show myself out. Wouldn't want to taint your precious house with my mudblood stink any longer."
"Sit down, you foolish girl."
"The hell I will."
"I said to sit down." Something changed. Narcissa did not have her wand out, but Lily knew that somehow this had turned into a duel nevertheless, and not of words. "Sit or I will make you get past me to leave."
She laughed. "You think I'm frightened?"
"Yes, I think you will be, when you remember what a fight could do to that child in your belly."
Lily was still furious, not frightened. How dare the bitch threaten her!
But there was an inner voice telling her that Narcissa was dead right; she wouldn't put the baby at risk if she didn't have to. Lovely. This was not the way she had wanted to learn that her maternal protectiveness was going to be working just fine, thank you.
When had she given Narcissa any indication she was going to comply? She was still wondering that when she found herself sitting in the indicated spot, on the sofa. Damn the woman's assumptions, correct or not.
"You came here because you needed to know these things, whether you want to listen to them or not. I admire that." Narcissa had closed the distance between them, stood before her. "What I need now is to make you listen, not merely hear."
"Why do you care?" Lily said with venom.
"Because it amuses me. Because I like to prove how persuasive I am. You know what houses we were in at Hogwarts; I don't think you need further explanation." She knelt in front of Lily. Lily started to shift away, but Narcissa laid a hand on her ankle. "Don't. You'll stay there until I'm done with you."
"Sure of yourself, aren't you?"
"Sure of you." Narcissa's hand stayed on her ankle (which was only a little puffy with her pregnancy; she'd been fortunate so far). Her other hand reached up to touch Lily's belly. Lily might have flinched, but she was so used to everyone doing this--perfect strangers, even, thinking they could take the liberty of touching her gestating tummy, like she was a lucky piece to rub. It was less disturbing from Narcissa than it might have been.
"You're feeling it now, aren't you, Lily-girl? What I meant about a mother being a warrior. And here you are, choosing your battles. Very wise." Narcissa's hand on her leg began to slide upward.
Now Lily did flinch. "Stop touching me."
"No." Narcissa's hand was at her knee under her robes, and going higher. "I plan to have your attention."
She had that. Even the baby was squirming again, as if he sensed that hand on his mother's abdomen. It was that which stilled Lily, brought her vulnerability home in a conscious way. While she didn't really believe Narcissa meant to harm her--as opposed to meaning her harm, which she was sure the bitch did--the instinct not to provoke her further was too strong to disobey.
Narcissa's hand was on her thigh. It should have made Lily angry, to have to stay still for that. But the contrast between Narcissa's soft fingertips and the grazing sharpness of her long nails was so striking, such a never-experienced, female thing, that it brought that liquid surge back, unbidden or not. Lily had to stop herself from sucking in her breath.
The fingertips stroked her skin. "When your child is born, you must have at least two midwitches present," Narcissa said, as though she were not caressing Lily's thigh. "And no men."
"I...want James there," Lily said, happy to be contrary about it, even as she tried not to stumble over the words. God. She wanted to nudge that hand with her knee, give it a little direction. Bloody pregnancy hormones.
"It doesn't matter if you want it. The midwitches won't allow it." Narcissa's other hand had left her belly and was crawling under the hem of Lily's robe. "There are mysteries witches are to know and wizards are not. Don't deny your child the newborn's rituals because you thought you knew better, girl."
Newborn's rituals. That sounded...important. Intimidating. What was it Narcissa was doing with--oh. She had her hands on those dreadful plain knickers of hers, was inching them down. "You bloody hag," Lily said.
"You aren't even supposed to be wearing these. Interferes with the conduit between the opening of your womb and the spirits which form your child's soul."
"You're just making that up!" Lily thought her indignation might make up for her small shift on the sofa so that Narcissa could tug them out from under her bum.
"You wouldn't know, would you?" Narcissa let fall the offending scrap and slid her fingers immediately back under Lily’s robes. "Spread your knees."
The words made her entire body sing with the need to obey. She was going to leave a damp spot on that sofa. "I won't," she lied.
"Do it." Narcissa showed her no mercy, but flung the robe up to Lily's waist, elbows bumping against the insides of her knees to push them apart as she did so. Lily moaned, her head falling back. It would be easier if she didn't watch.
Those fingers pressed into the outer folds of her labia, opening her cunt wide. It was all she could do not to arch up. "Merlin." It was an eye-roll of a pronouncement. "You never even went for the sigil, did you?"
"This is where you try to talk me into some kind of bloody piercing, is it?" Lily said, half-panting. "Not going to work."
"Not a piercing. What kind of madness would a piercing be, on flesh that is preparing to stretch and tear? Merely a marking." Two of those fingernails did a slow trace down Lily's inner labia, and Lily groaned again, the muscles of her cunt twitching. "It attunes the child to assume a head-down position for birth, when it's time."
"Still think--ah--you're making this up as you go." The fingers had moved back up. Lily fought to articulate her words. "The healer never--mmp--told me about that."
"Yes, well, a healer wouldn't." One finger had stopped on her clitoris, was moving in small circles. "The sigil's only one line off from the charm which summons an incubus, and there aren't many healers willing to put their careers on the line for that one. You get a runesmith, you ignorant girl."
Lily whimpered. Narcissa was using exactly the right pressure; she didn't even need to lean into it. "S-so that's...what you did when Lucius was-wasn't enthusiastic enough for you--paid them to mess up the m-marking deliberately, didn't you?"
Soft laughter, and Narcissa's eyes on hers, holding her gaze even though she hadn't thought she wanted to watch. "There's an idea." Narcissa shifted forward. "But we don't need an incubus, do we?"
And though Lily could barely see over her pregnant belly, she kept her eyes on Narcissa's as the kneeling woman leaned in and closed her lips about Lily's clit, her tongue flickering over it with a delicacy that left her gasping, and then drawing it into her mouth with a suction that pulled Lily's hips with it, rising into that suction, that pulse, in a rhythm she couldn't even think about resisting.
Already there were hands crawling under Lily's robes again; Narcissa was making good use of her hands-free manipulation of Lily's clitoris to reach underneath and creep up to her breasts--nothing slowly seductive here, but a tug at each bra cup to cause her pregnancy-swollen nipples to jut over the material, and then Narcissa's long fingernails surrounding and pinching each nipple. The sensation shot straight to her cunt; her spine arched, pushing more of her breasts against those hands even as Narcissa's tongue licked a long, hungry path from the wetness at her vagina all the way back to her clit, lingering there only long enough to make Lily want more before doing it over again.
"Oooh..." Dammit, she should be cursing the bitch, not spreading her legs for more. And she certainly shouldn't be allowing Narcissa to push her like that, one hand in the center of her chest, shifting her so that she was now lying on the sofa, and Narcissa was crawling over her, curving around Lily's pregnant bulk easily, pushing her robes up to her throat for better access to her breasts, setting her mouth upon one nipple and biting softly. Lily's cunt fairly flooded with the sensation, and even her belly was gripped with it, a slow hard contraction that came just this side of hurting, and only made her want more. Oh, god, she wouldn't be able to tell anyone about this. No one would understand. James would want to murder someone.
Those fingers were toying with her clit again. Lily whined and pushed into them, feeling the nails scratching and plucking at her exquisitely. Her cunt tightened, sending the sensation back up to her nipples as they were sucked and bitten, and back down again in rippling waves. She was going to come, had never needed to come so badly. If Narcissa decided to stop Lily was going to shove her mouth back down to her cunt and tell her to finish what she'd started, dammit.
Narcissa's blonde head was suddenly in her face, almost beatific as she kissed Lily on the mouth. It seemed wrong to respond, but Narcissa didn't seem interested in waiting to see if Lily would kiss back. She covered Lily's mouth with hers and bit and sucked at her lips until they felt swollen twice their size, a tender coerced pout that felt no less ravished than her nipples and her clit.
Then Narcissa was pulling at the neck of her own robes, blue-veined breasts in their low neckline only a tug away from cresting over their constraints. Pregnancy and breast-feeding had had their way with Narcissa's bosom--she'd gone from shapely to generous, Lily had already noticed. The sight of them bared, unnaturally round on her chest, nipples already standing out, was enough to transfix Lily.
Narcissa was already reaching forward with both hands, sliding her fingers behind Lily's head to cup it, prevent her from moving as she pressed her breasts to Lily's face. Lily understood the reason for their impossible roundness--the unfamiliar hardness against her face told her she couldn't have nursed the baby for a while. No one had told her it felt like that--they used the word "engorged" as if it were a bad thing, but Narcissa hadn't seemed to be in pain.
"Open your mouth," she heard her say. Lily tried to shake her head. It was no more than token protest; the idea of being forced to suckle at Narcissa's milk-filled breasts was enough to make her cunt convulse and spill.
Fortunately Narcissa was quite ready to insist. "Oh, yes." She cupped her own breast with one hand, rubbed the nipple over Lily's swollen lips. A drop of something thin wet Lily's lips, and she opened her mouth, Narcissa pressing the nipple inside. Another drop touched her tongue; it was thin, and it was slightly sweet. Lily closed her lips and sucked.
It was not the taste. It was the way it ran over her tongue, how she had to swallow after every few sucks; it was the feel of Narcissa's hard breast in her mouth, the nipple harder still and pushing against her tongue like a caress; it was the way Narcissa sighed with pleasure at the suckling and at Lily's obvious consternation that both of them were enjoying this as much as they were.
One of Narcissa's hands was already questing back down to between Lily's legs, stroking her clitoris ever so lightly at first, waiting until Lily began to grind into her hand before pressing harder, those same little circles she'd used at the beginning. She was giving Lily the friction she needed, despite the slippery soaking wetness that covered her, was saturating her entire cleft from tailbone to mons, and Lily knew better than to try to help, knew that her own hands would be slapped away, or possibly even tied or hexed if she did, and it was driving Lily over the edge to imagine even that.
Narcissa's other hand was still cupping the back of Lily's head, and pulling her mouth away at the moment of climax was impossible; it was all she could do to keep from biting Narcissa's breast as she came, hips pulsing in short bursts into her hand, thighs splayed so wide she had to dangle one off the sofa, her hands clutching at Narcissa's robes because she couldn't think what else to do with them. When the waves had finished punishing her, Narcissa still had her fingers pressed to Lily's clit, not moving any longer, but knowing that to take them away now would be half the pleasure of it gone, like that.
No, they hadn't needed a sigil to conjure an incubus. The evil...witch. Lily's mind gave it a meaning it hadn't had since she'd got her Hogwarts letter.
Another contraction gripped her belly. It obscured, for the moment, the rhythmic quivers of activity from the baby, who was reacting as though the orgasm had been something Lily had transferred inward, through her blood. How was it that the powerful clench of her womb made the climax seem all the sweeter, as if even more hard-won?
A noise like a sneeze. Then, a cry. From the crib. The cry didn't stop.
Narcissa gave a little sigh, kissed Lily's brow. "After your child is born, come back and see me. I have a potion that will correct the relaxation of your vagina after the delivery, tighten things again--James will be quite pleased with the result, and so will you."
Her hand released Lily's head, she slipped her breast from between Lily's lips, and stood, her fingers leaving Lily's clitoris only at the last possible second. Through the post-orgasmic haze, Lily saw her cross to the crib and lift the baby up. Faintly smiling, she returned to the sofa, sat down next to Lily--who hadn't moved--and set the nipple which Lily had not tasted into Draco's mouth. A fussy noise, a whisper of, "Hush, darling, don't be difficult," and after a moment the baby latched on with a contented noise and began to nurse.
The haze was gone. Nothing so dramatic as nausea had come to replace it, but Lily knew Narcissa had meant to show her she was outmatched in this kind of game, and Lily wasn't about to argue.
She sat up--an act that deserved a bloody medal, these days--pushed down her robes and got to her feet. Somehow she knew she couldn't put her knickers back on in front of the woman--couldn't even reach for them in front of her, in fact. Fuck it.
She turned to look at Narcissa, at that deceptively serene picture of a mother nursing her child, searched for something to say that would not let her leave that room a victim, or a slut, or an ignorant mudblood--and that was when the baby gave her bladder another good kick.
Bloody hell. Lily knew her only remaining act of dignity that day was going to be exiting the Malfoy nursery without wetting their antique rugs.
She made it. And counted it a victory.
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