"Please stop fidgeting, it's distracting," Percival says.
"I'm sorry," you say and put your hands in your lap, trying hard not to start pulling at your nails again.

"Do I make you nervous or something?" Percival asks.
"No. Uhmmm..." you stutter. "Maybe a little."
Mr. Graves smirks. "You got nothing to be nervous about," he says. "Yet."

You swallow hard and start fidgeting again.

You've been Percival Graves' assistant for a couple of weeks now. He's been rather busy, which have kept you busy keeping track of his whereabouts and appointments. He's been out of the office most of the time, leaving you to do your job, just to brief him in the morning about the day's agenda and a quick wrap up at the end of the day, if he makes it back to MACUSA's headquarters before nightfall.

He's tall, dark and very handsome. The "dark" part is not just a word to describe his looks, he must be a little dark on the inside too, since he ever so often sends cold chills down your spine. Yet you can't help being attracted to him. Like every other woman, bad boys will forever be alluring to the innocent part of pure souls. It's not a weakness, it's science and you won't fight it.

Percival's stealing glimpses of you when you're not looking. When he was asking for and given an assistant at a very short moment of notice, he didn't expect one so distractingly fine looking as you. And the more you keep fidgeting nervously with your nails, pen or whatnot, the more he has to look at you and get drawn towards your enchanting femininity.

He runs a hand through his slick, black hair, tugging it some in frustration. He wants to yell at you for not keeping still, but since you're only awaiting orders from him, it's kinda his fault. But he wonders why you seem so nervous around him. He knows what he is, and what stirs within him. The question is; do you?

"Please, Miss Y/N," he starts saying.
"So sorry, Sir," you say and straighten your back at once. "It's a bad habbit of mine. My dad used to smack my hands when I was younger when I did this, when I was living back home. He tried to discipline me, but I guess it didn't work. Though being a rather shy girl that kept, and still keeps, fidgeting isn't a very cool way of acting out. I could have done something worse, I want to, uhmmm, wanted to do something worse, something more bad."

You regret what you just said, but it got Mr. Graves attention. He's staring right at you. "Something bad?" he asks. "Like what?"
"Uhmmm, I don't know. Like..." You uncross your legs and cross them again, completely aware of your body language. "Why don't you come over here and make me stop fidgeting?" you think to yourself and place a smirk on your face.

"I wish I could read your mind just about now," he says and narrows his eyes in the most sexy way. You bite your lip, sealing them shut, keeping your thoughs within.

Percival gets up and walks around the desk. He leans against it and crosses his arms, looking intensly at you. Your heart starts to race, and you snap for your breath, unsealing the vault of impure thoughts.

"I was just thinking," you say rather low. "That I might need some discipline still." You meet his stare. He pulls at the tie around his neck, like it's suffocating him, like he's getting somewhat hot and bothered. You flush and feel your body burn. What you just said, what you just uttered to your boss is highly inappropriate, and you need to get out of there.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I... I didn't mean to get out of line. I'm just gonna fetch my things and leave, I..." You get up and head for the door.

You're just about to open it, but two big hands on each side of your head keeps it shut.
"Don't go," Percival says. You can feel his hot breath on your neck, the warmth from his body mere inches away from your own. You sigh, wondering if you should turn to face him or keep standing with your back against him and plead him to let you go.
"Sir... If you would be so kind to... To let me leave. I didn't mean to... I know I said what I said, but I didn't mean to... You got this... Hold of me... I don't know what came over me."
He looks at your back. He wants to look at your face, yet he doesn't want you to see what you do to him. The sweet nectar of pure innocence is intoxicating, and he craves to mess it up, to mess you up. He wants to unravel the shy girl you told him you were, are. He wants you to fidget with the buttons on his coat, to undress him. He wants to punish you.

The two big hands move away from the door and you think you are free to go, but your hope of getting out vanishes when you feel the same hands on your hips. They tug on your curves and you snap for your breath. He wraps his hands and arms around you and you can feel his body up against yours. He leans down and smells you hair, your neck. You can hardly breathe.
"You can go when I tell you to go, but right now, you're staying here with me," Mr. Graves purrs into your ear.
"Yes, Sir. Whatever you say, Sir," you say and your knees give in.
He lets go of you, and you soon feel his hands sliding up under your skirt. He grabs hold of your pantyhose and underwear and pulls them down swift, leaving your behind bare. He uses one hand to gather the fabric of your skirt and the other one soon slams at your naked skin. You mewl. Not in pain, but in excitement.
"You want discipline? I'll give you discipline!" Percival growls behind you and spank your bottom soar.

Suddenly he stops, letting the fabric of your skirt fall down. "Turn around," he says harshly.
You do as you're told. He looks at your face which is red, your eyes blank. He hurt you, but he hurt you good. You wanted it all. You stare at his dark features, his intense eyes. He's so much man, so much wizard, so powerful, so dangerous. You want that power inside you. Your mouth part, but your words freeze. He cups your face in his hands, tangling his fingers into your hair before he leans down to kiss you, taking your parted lips as an invite to do so. He's most welcome.

He kisses you long, hard and deep, his tongue seeking yours to play with. He tilts your head back and starts kissing his way down your neck, one hand unbuttoning your blouse. Then he kneels before you, his hands sliding up your skirt once more. He grabs your pantyhose and underwear, pulling it all the way down this time, removing them after taking of your shoes. His hands are on the ouside of the silky fabric of your skirt and he slides the zipper open, letting it fall to the ground, leaving the lower half of your body copletely bare. "First discipline," he says. "Then pleasure."

He looks at your womanhood so intensely, you're both excited and frightened, and find yourself backing up the few feet remaining between you and the door to his office. You got nowhere to go, you don't want to go, and he knows it. Coming forward, still on his knees, his eyes fixed on your naked part, you find yourself sighing before he's even laid his hands on you.

He lifts your right leg over his shoulder, his face closing in on your private part, and soon his lips, and tongue, are playing on your pleasure strings. Leaving you weak, oh, so weak. You pant and squeal tones of satisfaction as he eats away at your swelling and succulent womanhood, filled with so much tension, you can hardly take it. You run a hand through his hair, tugging it. It's just as slick as his tongue between your legs, sliding up and down your slit, trigging your button of joy just right.

You're so close to coming, you try to grab hold of something since you know it's going to be a powerful escalation of sexual joy. Your hands are gripping at the door, failing to hang on, so your hand find it's way back to his hair, and he doesn't mind. You shout out in ecstasy and try to control your breath, but you're so lost in the sensation he's just given you, you got anything but control.

But he's in control, and holds on to you, pressing you against the door, keeping you from falling. He looks up at you, and you down at him. He's so damn handsome, his eyes sparkling with fire. He lets go of you and you slide down towards the floor, down to his level to meet his lips. You throw your arms around him and kiss him senseless. Now it's his turn to pant. You start to undress him, and he lets you. His jacket, vest and shirt come off in no time. His pants are next, and soon he's naked. He's perfect. And so hard, so big. You push him down on his back on the floor, sitting atop of him, taking off your blouse and bra to become just as naked as he is. You lean down to kiss him. His fingers are stroking your back, before tracing his hands down to your hips. He positions you just right above his manhood, and when his hard on's found it's mark, he thrusts himself into you, and you mewl out loud.

You find the perfect rhythm, and slide up and down his shaft, it feeling so good alongside your warm, wet tunnel of magical euphoria.

He rolls you onto your back, still bewteen your legs, his cock going at your slight cunt, one thrust after the other. The impact of his pelvis against your womanhood and very swollen pleasure button, makes you gasp for air as you're getting closer and closer to climax.

He's such a dark, mysterious man, and you invite his darkness in. You crave every bit of it, and as he fullfills your desire, you burst into a raputure of unbridled bliss of fantastic delight. You scream out in pleasure and he too comes with a hot, sexy grunt.

Percival lays down on your chest and you wrap your arms around him. You're warm all over and very satisfied between your legs, and can't believe what just happened. This somewhat inexplicable man just had his way with you, just like you've been fantasizing about, though the real thing was so much better. He lifts his head to look at you, his brown eyes staring deep into yours.

"Don't you ever leave me," Mr. Graves says and smiles.
"I don't think I can," you say and smile back at him. "I find you too mysteriously enchanting." "Just think of the things we can accomplish and create; new hights of pleasure, and a darker hypermagical world, you and I." His voice is husky and alluring, and he's got you. He's got you under his spell.