Fic: Do it Like the Eskimos; Ron/Pansy; NC-17

Title: Do it Like the Eskimos
Author: lysrouge
Recipient's name: netbyrd
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Ron/Pansy
Originally Posted: 1/5/2005
Warnings: Interesting uses of snow, light bondage, D/s, cross dressing, queening, breathplay and felching.
Author/Artist's notes: A big thanks to my beta, merrycontrary, for doing a superb job, and big thanks to my "muses", anjenue and themostepotente, who helped spurn many of the ideas that I put into place within this fic. Written for the smutty_claus Christmas fic swap.



"Get back here, you two! We just finished it and now you're going to leave?" Ron called out, frustrated.

"We're frozen and I don't know about Harry, but I could go for some hot tea," Hermione called back.

"Hot chocolate for me, mate. You sure you want to stay out here?" Harry gave his friend a curious look. Ron, turn down chocolate of any sort? That was an odd concept.

"I'm positive!" With that, Ron leaned against the igloo they'd spent all afternoon building. They'd done the building and sculpting by hand, but the use of Hermione's charms work gave it structural integrity. Ron was rather proud of the work they'd done and wanted to enjoy it. Wasn't that what you were supposed to do when you'd done a good job? Bask in the glory of all your hard work?

Of course, he wasn't too terribly upset about them having left, or rather wouldn't be if his girlfriend were there. That had been a glorious day, when he whisked Pansy Parkinson out from under Malfoy's nose. Sure, she wasn't the prettiest girl in the castle. And he was still a bit bothered by her nose, but that was an easy thing to shove aside when good – no great sex was involved, that and having pulled one over on his rival.

His friends… well, they hadn't exactly understood at first. Hermione had wrinkled her nose in disgust and spent the better half of a month ignoring anything he had to say about Pansy. Harry… well, he was opposed to it for the mere fact that she was a Slytherin. He never failed to remind Ron of his previous disgust with the "pug-nosed girl in frilly pink robes" which drove Ron up the wall. Neville had looked at him in confusion, but shrugged it off, saying something about "as long as he was happy". Dean and Seamus seemed too occupied with discussing football to even notice. Ginny gave him a pat on the back and wished him good luck – she didn't think the whole inter-house dating thing worked. And Luna just peeked over the top of her upside down copy of the Quibbler and said, "She liked you, but you never noticed. You still haven't." That one had thrown him for a real loop. Who was she talking about?

Now though, after several months of glares from Malfoy, his friends finally warmed up – Harry especially relaxed about the teasing when he saw how agitated Malfoy was by the dating situation. If Malfoy was displeased about it, and Ron was happy, in fact nearly the happiest he'd been since the end of their fifth year – it now being their seventh – how could he not be thrilled for his best friend?

A strong gust of wind whipped past Ron, kicking up snow and spattering his face and neck. His ears were well protected by the hat he was wearing, one of the few times he was happy to have earflaps, though the braids and pom-poms still bothered him. Shivering, Ron wrapped his arms around himself and crawled into the igloo.

He froze in the doorway as a rather spectacular surprise greeted him. Pansy, sprawled out on a bearskin rug – polar bear, by the look of it – her fingers lightly gliding across her bare stomach. The igloo actually felt rather warm, though none of the snow appeared to be melting. Ron felt something push him forward and he turned to look, finding that the entrance had sealed itself, a few holes bored through for airflow and light. Licking his lips, he faced Pansy again, her wand lightly resting in her hand, a devious grin overtaking her face.

"When… how did you get in here? I was outside, I would have seen you." Ron looked rather confused, but edged forward, pulling off his winter cloak as it was stifling hot in there. He was unsure if it was the actual temperature or Pansy. Either way, he desperately needed to match her attire. He reached for his hat, intending to pull it off when she clucked her tongue. He nodded and left it on, instead pulling off his jumper, tossing it atop his cloak.

"I watched you and your friends build this little… shelter from under the tree. When you were busy bidding them farewell and declining their invitation for warm beverages, I slipped behind you and into here, where I set about getting things quite perfectly arranged." Pansy motioned toward a silk cloth that covered several items, the only easily recognisable item being a bowl, and then to herself, drawing Ron's attention away from his ever curious gaze at the hidden items. She ran her fingers down her neck and along her chest and twirled them around a nipple, pinching and tweaking it into a pert nub. Her tongue rested at the corner of her mouth and Ron struggled with the decision of where to look.

Ron loosened his tie, and Pansy clucked her tongue again. He dropped it and set to removing his shirt, then shoes, belt and trousers, letting those join his other clothing. He was now clad in a pair of Chudley Cannons boxer shorts, socks, Gryffindor tie, and his winter hat. He edged closer to Pansy, very nearly straddling her as he ran his nose along her jaw, deeply inhaling the intoxicating smell of her parfum – strongly reminiscent of her namesake flower, with subtle hints of spice. He gasped and ran his tongue along her earlobe, carefully avoiding her pearl earrings as the last time he had got saliva on them she'd seen fit to teach him a lesson – one he did not dare have repeated.

Pansy ran a hand along his chest, stopping at the edge of his underpants. She gave a light tug and pointing the wand in her other hand to the fabric, she whispered a rather complex transfiguration, causing Ron to gasp again. When the fabric quit moving, he pulled back, resting his arse on his heels. He looked down and flushed red with embarrassment. She had transfigured his boxers into a pair of snug fitting, frilly, lacy, pink knickers that left his cock, balls, and arsehole exposed. He took a sharp breath and closed his eyes.

If he didn't know better, if he didn't trust her fully – which she worked hard to gain that trust – he might worry that she would leave him here like this, humiliated and the laughing stock of his peers. Instead, his cock twitched and with a slow rub along her leg, quickly filled out to a full erection.

"Mmmm, that's a good boy," she whispered appraisingly. "If you want to be an even better boy you'll remember your word and you'll obey mine. You will not speak unless I tell you to speak, and you will enjoy yourself."

Ron nodded in acknowledgement. He'd heard her speech several times before, had every word memorised, and no intention of letting her down. His skin still flushed and he had no doubt that, if Pansy had anything to say about it, it would remain that way for quite some time.

"Lay on you back with your hands up over your head." Ron promptly complied. Pansy cast several charms – one to ensure that wherever the snow touched would grow cold but would not numb, another to create bonds of packed snow around his wrists and ankles, and another to keep those bonds from breaking by force.

Pansy traced along Ron's lips, jaw, neck and chest, creating elegant circles and swirls. She pulled the silk from what it covered, discarding the fine cloth as though it were nought but a rag. Ron strained to see what lay next to the bowl, finding that everything was sculpted of either snow or glass. However, at second thought, Ron determined it was ice and not glass. He wiggled in anticipation, curious to see what she would use first and where.

Grabbing the bowl, she mixed its contents then tightly packed it. Pansy held up a snowball, dotted with raspberries, a glint in her eye as she looked down at Ron. "You will eat this before it melts, leaving behind not one raspberry. If you fail to do so, you will find yourself facing punishment."

Ron nodded, this should be simple enough; it wasn't as though he hadn't ever eaten snow before. Well, it had seemed simple enough until Pansy inserted the raspberry snowball into her cunt. She turned around and perfectly positioned herself over his mouth and sat down.

"You will also pay direct attention to my clit when I tell you." She paused for effect, "I suggest you eat fast."

Curling his tongue, Ron struggled to get a chunk of the raspberry snowball. He struggled against his restraints, trying to get a better angle and inadvertently burying his nose deeper into her crack. The snow quickly began to melt, and Ron's task grew both easier and more difficult at once. It was by far easier to eat, though time was quickly running short.

"My clit," Pansy moaned, rocking back and forth against his face. Ron shifted his focus to her clit, panicking and licking furiously as he felt the melting snow drip onto his face. When he was certain that he would soon fail, Pansy called out, "Eat."

Ron thrust his tongue deep inside her, attempting to get the last few bits of snow and the remaining raspberries. Pansy stroked his cock, distracting him from completing his task as he gasped and groaned, the remainder of the raspberry snowball melting and landing on his chin.

Pansy pulled away, clucking her tongue in dismay. She tugged on his tie, forcing Ron to look her in the eye. "You are such a messy eater. And worse yet, one who cannot finish his meal before it finishes itself."

Positioning herself between his legs, she released his tie and grabbed two objects from next to the empty bowl. She set one on his stomach, muttered a charm and watched as the snow spider crawled up his chest. Ron squirmed and Pansy clucked her tongue. He did his best to hold still despite being frightened by the charmed snow. It was nothing like his fear of real spiders, but it was still enough to make him uncomfortable.

She slid the other object along his cock, his balls, and then pressed it against his arsehole. The ice she held was sculpted in the shape of an anal plug and she pressed and twisted it against the pucker until it slid in. Pansy twisted, pulled, and thrust the ice plug within Ron, causing him to moan and arch off the rug, struggling against his restraints.

"So pretty," she murmured, running a hand along his stomach, smirking as the spider settled across Ron's lips, effectively silencing him. She reached for her wand and cast a charm on his hat, strengthening the braids, as it would do no good to have one or both break off. She tightened his tie, constricting his airflow. She cast another charm to prevent the ice plug from sliding out, and yet another to keep it moving inside him.

Setting her wand aside, she straddled him, letting his hard cock slide into her cunt, moaning as the frilly lace of his knickers rubbed against her lips. Pansy grabbed onto his hat strings and tugged, using them as reins as she rode his cock.

Everything was cold, cold, cold except for where it was hot, hot, warm. The bearskin rug rubbed deliciously against his back, and he could feel it growing damp from sweat and melted ice. The plug was the most wonderful torture, melted ice pouring past solid ice, pressing up against his prostate.

"Come," Pansy moaned, purposely clenching around Ron's cock, crossing and uncrossing his hat strings as she pulled on them causing Ron's head to tilt back. His breathing was shallow and he felt light-headed as he came inside her. Smiling, Pansy released his hat strings and slightly loosened his tie. He drew in quick gasps of air as his cock slid out of her, the ice plug still going, though in its last moments of life.

A quick reach of the wand, and Pansy commanded the spider to melt, the water washing his face clean as it spilled down his cheeks. She pressed her cunt to his face, her lips splaying across his. "Clean me and make me come," she ordered.

Ron sucked his come out of her, immediately swallowing it. He swept his tongue along her walls, intent to get every last drop of semen and raspberry. Positive that she was now clean, he slid his tongue between her lips up to her clit. He sucked and flicked his tongue, letting it swirl and flutter against the sensitive flesh. Pansy thrust against his mouth, once more taking up her reins and tugging, urging Ron onward. He rolled his tongue against her clit and Pansy bucked against him, her body shaking as she came. Her grip tightened on his hat strings. Ron continued to lick her clit until she pulled away.

Pressing a finger to his lips, Pansy smiled. "So perfect," she murmured. "You made up for your earlier mistake, love." A few quick flicks of her wand and Ron's restraints and the ice plug disappeared. Another flick and his kickers were no longer knickers, but his Cannons boxer shorts. Straddling his lap, she ordered Ron to sit up.

She conjured two steaming mugs of cider, handing one to Ron and keeping the other for herself. They spent several minute in silence sipping the warm drink, Pansy rubbing Ron's cock through his pants.

"Are you up for another go? You can shove your cock down my throat; you've earned it," Pansy said, breaking the silence and smirking over the lip of her mug of spiced cider.