NUMBER THE SEVENTY-SEVENTH:
Summary: Draco is offered to Voldemort by his father and Harry
Potter is captured and enslaved by Voldemort. Draco is treated as a
cherished and favoured whore and Harry is treated as a prisoner.
When Draco displeases his master his is lowered to common prisoner
and forced to live in a cell with Harry. At the same time that Harry
is brought before Voldemort, Draco is brought before Voldemort for
his "sins". They despise each other (Harry because Malfoy is His
whore and Draco because Harry is The enemy) but almost immediately
share a bed in mutual need to forget where they are and what is
happening to them. Little by little the two boys fall in love and
find that they need each other more than they need each others
bodies. That is when Voldemort begins to play his games. Taking
Draco away, whoring him in front of Harry (Lucius takes Draco who is
forced to climax), separating them, only to shove them together and
starve them, watching them turn against each other.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Harry squinted as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room.
Torches burned in sconces on the wall but, magically, emitted no
smoke. He staggered a bit on the threshold, but someone behind him
shoved him hard and he stumbled, trying frantically to regain his
feet but failing. He fell to his knees painfully, and as he did a
cold, high laugh rang throughout the room. Harry's blood turned to
ice; not that he hadn't known who awaited him. The confirmation was
Harry struggled to his feet, unwilling to face the dark wizard on
his knees. He was pushed forward again, and defiantly looked up to
the front of the room. His eyes had adjusted now, and he could make
out the robed figure sat on a raised chair, looking for all the
world as if he sat upon a throne. Harry tried to stand up straight;
he would *not* bow in front of Voldemort. He tugged the remains of
his robe around him; the Death Eaters had not handled him carefully.
It had all happened so fast; one moment he was enjoying a Hogsmeade
weekend with Ron and Hermione and the next, an old woman had cried
out in pain in front of a shop. The three of them had rushed over to
help the fallen woman, and Harry had reached her first. He'd reached
out to help her up, and the second he touched her robe he knew his
mistake. The familiar sensation of traveling by portkey, and he was
falling, falling... someone hit him, hard, and he'd come back to his
senses as he was being pulled off a broom. A portkey, a broom ride;
it was impossible to determine where he was or how far he'd been
taken. He just hoped Ron and Hermione had gotten away to warn
Leaning back in his chair, Voldemort calmly regarded the boy before
him. After so many failed attempts to get rid of Potter he at last
had the boy in his clutches. Snatching him in broad daylight from
the middle of Hogsmeade had been tremendously risky, but seeing as
how every other plan had failed thus far Voldemort had been willing
to resort to such measures. His lips spread into a cruel imitation
of a smile; whatever the risk had been it was worth it, because he
now had Harry Potter at his mercy.
Well, almost. The boy still looked far too defiant given his current
predicament. Lifting a thin, pale hand from his lap, Voldemort aimed
his wand at the boy. "I think I vastly prefer you on your knees,
Harry." He softly hissed a few words and Harry was forced down onto
his knees once again.
Harry fought, but his wand had been taken from him and there was
nothing he could do to resist. He glared up at Voldemort; this was
the first time he'd seen him in a physical body. He had no idea how
the wizard had come to acquire one, but he'd certainly done a good
job. The man looked barely older than he had when Harry had met his
sixteen year old self in the diary; Voldemort should have been
somewhere near 70, but somehow he'd recreated a much younger body.
Voldemort's face was handsome, but it was twisted into a cruel smirk
as he looked down. Harry decided he wouldn't show the older wizard
his fear; instead he said, "You won't get away with this. I'm sure
Dumbledore will be along soon to rescue me."
Clearly amused by this, Voldemort's smile widened. Had the action
not looked so malicious it might have enhanced the older man's
features instead of making them appear more harsh. "Of course. I'm
positive your little friends will have rushed to tell him the news.
However, seeing as he has no clue to my whereabouts, how do you
suppose he'll find you to rescue you?" He let Harry ponder that for
a moment as his eyes raked over the child's body.
Harry was hugging his robe around himself, denying Voldemort what he
very much wanted to see. It would be so easy to kill the boy now and
be done with it, but after going through so much effort to capture
Harry, Voldemort wanted to savor his success for a while.
The way Voldemort was looking at him made Harry shiver, but he
wasn't sure why. "He'll find me, I know it. And I won't tell you
anything about his plans, no matter what you do to me," he added,
more bravely than he felt. He didn't know anything about the
headmaster's plans, so even if the dark wizard gave him Veritaserum,
Harry wouldn't be able to give anything away. Of course, that was
supposing Voldemort didn't just want to kill him straightaway.
Though, if he had wanted that, Harry would already have been dead.
Voldemort seemed like the type to want to gloat, so Harry just hoped
he could stall long enough for his rescuers to arrive.
"Well, then," Voldemort answered, "since you're so sure that your
fearless headmaster will be arriving any moment to save you, perhaps
I should have my fun while I can." He raised his hand every so
slightly, and motioned for one of the hooded figures to come
forward. "Do take off those heavy robes and make yourself at home,
Harry." The words would have been almost hospitable if not for the
way Voldemort's red eyes darkened to crimson. Another small movement
of his hand and the hooded figure yanked at Harry's robe, managing
to wrestle it off the boy after a bit of a struggle.
Breathing hard, Harry tried to look defiant. But he was beginning to
suspect that he wasn't going to like what Voldemort thought of as
fun. The room wasn't cold, but he still felt chilled without his
robes. He was wearing Muggle jeans and t-shirt underneath, but he
still felt strangely exposed. Voldemort's eyes were all over him,
and even though Harry knew it probably wasn't a good idea to ask,
his mouth seemed to speak without his approval. "What are you going
to do to me?"
Eyes hardening, Voldemort again lifted his wand, and with a quick
flick Harry was yanked to his feet. "My first thought was to kill
you," he admitted. "However, I decided that it would be more
favorable if I showed you what it was like to live as I have lived
for so many years; powerless and helpless." He looked to the edges
of the room where a few more of his loyal Death Eaters were lurking.
With a nod of his head, two of them moved forward and took hold of
Harry's arms, dragging the boy closer to the dark wizard. When they
were standing right before him, they let go of the boy and retreated
back to their positions. "Remove your clothes, Harry," he commanded,
wand still raised in case the boy was foolhardy enough to resist.
Harry gasped; his eyes wide, he stared up at Voldemort. "But..." his
mind whirled, trying to process what the man had asked him to do.
The only reason he could think of that Voldemort would want him to
take off his clothes was... no, Harry couldn't even think it,
couldn't even speak the words in his own mind. He was only thirteen,
he was a boy, Voldemort wouldn't possibly want... "No!" he cried.
As if expecting such an answer, Voldemort stood, towering above the
child. "You're not in the position to refuse me, Harry." His wand
slashed angrily through the air, and in an instant Harry's clothes
had vanished, leaving the boy fully nude. Before Harry could even
blink Voldemort turned and with another slash of his wand his chair
was transformed into a large bed. He hauled Harry up by the arm, and
tossed him none too carefully onto the bed. As soon as the boy
landed silver strands shot from the end of Voldemort's wand,
twisting themselves around Harry's arms and legs, binding the boy
spread-eagled to the bed. With a wicked smirk Voldemort turned to
face his followers, seeking out one in particular. "Lucius," he
called, beckoning the man forward.
One of the figures moved forward, lowering his hood as he made his
way over to his master. Pale blond hair and ash colored eyes were
revealed as the covering fell back; the man, the Death Eater, was
the father of Harry's most hated enemy. It was Lucius Malfoy. Lucius
knelt before Voldemort, trying to keep his eyes on the floor, but
unable to resist stealing a glance at Harry's nude, bound body.
Voldemort noticed this, but wasn't angry. He wanted all of the
people here today to see what was going to happen to Harry Potter.
He held his wand out to Lucius. "You may hold my wand while I'm
Accepting the slim piece of wood as if were a treasure, Lucius
handled it gently, and nodded. Voldemort turned back to the bed, and
Lucius made his way back to where he had been standing, not
bothering to pull his hood back up. He smiled darkly at Harry,
clearly enjoying what was happening to the child.
Harry finally caught up with what had happened; it had all
transpired so quickly. He'd had no chance to even struggle as his
clothes were taken and he was bound to the bed. He looked up to see
Malfoy's cold eyes on him and he blushed automatically. He was
spread open, naked, vulnerable, in front of a roomful of people but
having Lucius Malfoy see him this way was the worst. No doubt he
would delight in telling his son all about it, and... Harry realised
with a gulp that he had more to worry about than humiliation.
Voldemort was looking at him too, but much more lasciviously, and
the fact that Harry was bound here naked only confirmed his worst
fears. Summoning up every ounce of his Gryffindor courage, Harry
spat, "You're sick! I'm only thirteen!"
Slowly beginning to disrobe, Voldemort only shook his head in
response to Harry's statement. "If you had been good enough to die
as a baby then none of this would have been necessary." His blazing
red eyes trailed all over the child's body, his cock growing harder
as he perused every inch of virgin flesh. His hands moved faster,
pulling his clothes off quickly as desire spread through him. Once
his clothing lay in a pile on the floor he climbed onto the bed
between Harry's splayed legs.
Voldemort's thin fingers slid up Harry's legs, teasing the straining
muscles as the boy tried to fight. He could have had any one of his
followers stun the boy into submission, but he rather liked the
struggle. It would be that much more exciting when Harry finally
broke. And he would.
Harry averted his eyes as the older wizard took his clothes off; he
blushed even more. He'd never seen a grown man naked, though he'd
dreamed of it... He closed his eyes tightly as he tried to banish
that thought from his mind. Even Voldemort couldn't read minds,
couldn't know that the Boy Who Lived fantasised about boys instead
of girls. No doubt he'd be taunting him if he knew. So clearly it
mattered not to Voldemort that Harry was a child, an unwilling
victim; Harry would just have to get through this, and survive until
he was rescued. But Voldemort was a very handsome man, and Harry
couldn't stop his curious eyes from peeking. The man knelt between
his spread legs now, and he was naked and very obviously aroused.
Harry's heart pounded faster and he couldn't drag his eyes away from
the man's cock: stiff and very very big.
Seeing where the boy was so obviously looking, Voldemort couldn't
help but be surprised. He had expected screaming, thrashing, not the
innocent curiosity that Harry was displaying. Letting one hand
continue to move up Harry's thigh, the older man wrapped his other
hand around his own cock and gave a few firm strokes. "You like
this, Harry?" He asked. "I promise you'll get your fill of it..." As
he stroked himself, though more slowly now, Voldemort brushed his
other hand along Harry's cock. He could easily take the boy in this
position, ravage and brutalize him until the child cried, but that
wouldn't satisfy him. He wanted Harry to know the suffering and
humiliation that he, Voldemort, had felt. The older man planned to
make his little captive enjoy every moment of this, that would be
far more of a punishment than simply using him.
Harry's eyes widened as he watched the wizard touch himself. A
shiver ran through him; no, he would *not* let himself be aroused by
Voldemort. He pulled fruitlessly against his bindings, shaking his
head, thinking of anything but how sexy the dark wizard looked, and
how many times he'd dreamed of an older man taking him, showing him
everything... against his will, he lost the battle with his body as
Voldemort touched his cock. Harry blushed even more as he started to
It was with great will that Voldemort stopped the motions of his
hand along his own cock. The very sight of Harry was far too
intoxicating, he could easily climax just from looking at the boy in
this position. But, he had far too much planned to let things end so
quickly. Instead, he turned his entire focus to Harry, smilingly
wickedly as the child became aroused under his skillful touch.
"Are you enjoying this, Harry? Do you like the feel of my hands on
you?" He didn't even need an answer, as the boy's body spoke for
him, cock growing ever harder as the older wizard teased him.
Harry tried hard not to moan as Voldemort stroked him; how was it
possible that the touch of this evil man could feel so wickedly
good? The best he could do was to not answer him, not let him know
how much Harry was enjoying it. Harry closed his eyes as tears of
shame threatened to spill out; he was a disgrace, no better than a
whore, writhing in the hands of Lord Voldemort. What would
Dumbledore think of him now?
It was easy to tell from the boy's face what he was thinking. Harry
was loving the sensations, but hating himself for it. Perfect.
Voldemort decided to take things a bit further, wanting to push
Harry to, and then over, his limit. He slid his hand up and down the
child's erection, making sure to go slow enough to keep him from
coming. While the boy was distracted with that, he slipped his other
hand in between the pale cheeks of Harry's ass and sought out the
hidden entrance. Voldemort's cock pulsed as he brushed over it,
knowing he was the first to touch Harry in such places.
A strangled scream escaped Harry despite his best efforts to stifle
it; his whole body jerked as the evil wizard touched him in the most
intimate of places. Unfortunately, this drove his cock more firmly
into Voldemort's hand, and it felt so good he couldn't help but
moan. But, more disturbing still was the fact that the older man
touching him... there... felt just as good, and made him yearn for
more. What was wrong with him?
Pleased with the reaction, Voldemort smirked, and looked over his
shoulder at the Death Eaters along the wall. "Everyone succumbs to
me eventually, even Harry Potter." Turning back, he leaned over
Harry, one hand still stroking the boy's entrance, while the other
began to pump the boy's cock a bit roughly. "You may hate me, Harry,
but your body still craves my touch." He knew this would be what
drove Harry crazy in the end; not the sex, but the simple fact that
he *enjoyed* it.
"No!" Harry cried out, though the refusal lacked the force it should
have had, because it turned into a moan halfway through. Voldemort's
hand on him felt nothing like his own, and he'd certainly never
touched himself... there. He couldn't even bear to think it to
himself. Couldn't bear to think that Voldemort was giving him so
much pleasure, and he was powerless to resist it. Not that he'd even
want to resist if he could, any more... his body reacted by itself,
and he knew he was close to climax.
"No?" Voldemort echoed, obviously gloating. It was evident that
while Harry's mind was still trying to rebel, his body was happy to
submit to the sensations. Voldemort doubled his efforts, stroking
Harry's cock quickly, intent on bringing the boy to completion. Once
Harry had climaxed under his touch there would be no way the child
could deny that he didn't find pleasure in what had happened.
"No..." gasped Harry, but the protest was in vain. He was no longer
in control of his young body and there was absolutely no way he
could hold back. He cried out again, wordlessly, as his climax hit
him like nothing he'd ever felt before. He arched up, screaming, and
his seed coated his stomach and chest. Nothing had ever felt this
good, and the depravity of it made it even more intense, as he rode
out his release. Release at the hands of Lord Voldemort.
With a serpentine smile, Voldemort continued to stroke, prolonging
Harry's climax for as long as he could. His own body ached for a
similar release, but he did his best to ignore it as he watched
Harry shake and moan under the onslaught of sensations. He couldn't
wait to take things further, to bury himself inside Harry and break
the child just a little more. His rage burned just as intensely as
his desire, and in a few short moments he would sate both.
As the pleasure faded, Harry's shame began. He should have been able
to control himself more, should have struggled more... he couldn't
even say he'd been raped, because he'd climaxed. His cock still
pulsed, and his body sang with the echoes of ecstasy. And it
wouldn't end now. He was still bound, helpless, naked and vulnerable
in front of the dark lord. Harry didn't even want top think about
what would come next. He couldn't keep his eyes off of Voldemort's
huge cock as the man stroked it slowly.
Finally letting go of Harry's cock, the older wizard trailed his
fingers through the warm essence that was splattered across Harry's
stomach. Voldemort squeezed his own erection lightly with his other
hand, toying with the idea of simply stroking himself to release,
and allowing his own seed to cover the boy as well. That would be
satisfying, and it would certainly humble the boy further, but
Voldemort knew that it wouldn't be enough for him. The only thing
that would truly satiate him would be to come while deep inside
Harry, to steal the boy's virginity and his dignity all at once. He
lifted his hand from Harry's body and made a slight gesture as he
softly spoke a few foreign words. With a pop, a small bottle of oil
appeared on the bed next to them. Voldemort quickly uncorked it, and
dipped his fingers in, making sure that Harry could plainly see his
With wide eyes Harry watched; he was innocent but not so much that
he didn't know what was going to happen next. He watched with
trepidation as Voldemort coated his fingers with oil, and tried
unsuccessfully to shrink away from him.
"You know you can't escape me, Harry, so it's pointless to try."
Leaning over him, Voldemort snaked his tongue out and trailed it
over the boy's cock, wanting to arouse him once again. "Besides," he
continued, "I think some part of you secretly wants this..." As he
spoke, his fingers slipped under the child and sought out the
entrance to his body. He teased Harry for a moment by just letting
the tip of one finger circle the tight ring.
Harry bit his lip to keep the moan from escaping; his treacherous
body was betraying him once again. How could this feel so good? It
was so wrong, what Voldemort was doing to him. It shouldn't arouse
him like this, make his body ache for more. He wouldn't give the man
the benefit of an answer. No matter how much he wanted to beg for
more of what he could only guess at.
Getting no verbal response, Voldemort decided to goad the boy
further. "I thought you'd be much more adverse to this, Harry... But
it seems that you wanted it all along." He slowly eased a finger
into the child, groaning as he felt just how tight Harry was. He had
to reign in the impulse to bypass the preparation and just thrust
himself into the welcoming heat. Voldemort was not used to denying
himself pleasure for so long, but he knew it would be worth it when
he made Harry want this as much as he did.
Harry couldn't resist crying "No!" to Voldemort's accusation. He
gasped as he felt the man's finger inside him. He wouldn't enjoy
this, he wouldn't. "I don't want it!"
Voldemort's eyes narrowed as Harry continued to try and fight. He
had underestimated the child yet again, falsely assuming that he
would submit much more easily. He could see that it would be a
battle to get the boy to break; but he had time. Voldemort slipped a
second finger inside Harry, spreading them to help ease the boy
open. Part of him wanted to punish Harry now; if the boy was so
against it anyway, then it was ridiculous to try and make it any
easier. He could just take him, break him with violence... He had to
restrain that part, and force himself to keep going slow; it would
make the eventual submission that much sweeter. With that thought
the older man was able to calm himself enough to regain his
focus. "Whether you admit it or not, your body knows exactly what it
wants," he said with a smirk as he drew Harry's cock into his mouth
and sucked lightly.
This time, Harry couldn't stifle a moan as his rapidly hardening
cock disappeared into the dark wizard's mouth. Voldemort very
obviously knew exactly what he was doing; the man didn't even need
to cast the Imperius spell to make Harry's body respond. The fingers
inside him felt incredible, much better than he could have imagined
such a thing could feel, and part of him wanted more, wanted to
forget just this once that Voldemort was his mortal enemy and just
enjoy the sensations washing over him.
Voldemort could feel his young captive slowly giving in to the
demands of his body, and not wanting to give the boy one moment to
recover, the older man held nothing back. A third finger joined the
first two that were currently inside Harry, moving in and out of the
tight heat in the same way his cock would soon be. At the same time,
his mouth and tongue worked the child's cock until it was fully
erect, and his free hand cupped Harry's balls, rubbing them gently.
Voldemort had to be careful not to allow Harry to climax just yet;
he wanted to be deep within the boy when that happened, so he was
careful to gauge Harry's reactions to the sensations he was heaping
That was it; Harry cried out now, no longer in control of his voice.
Too many sensations, too much pleasure... his young body craved the
touches Voldemort was giving him. It was wrong, but he couldn't care
any more; his body surrendered completely to the dark wizard and
Harry started to beg.
"Please, please, oh god please," he sobbed, not knowing what he was
asking for but knowing that if he didn't get it he would surely die.
That was exactly what Voldemort wanted to hear. He had finally
managed to reduce Harry Potter to pleading for what he wanted; for
what they both wanted. Lifting his head, Voldemort removed his mouth
from Harry's cock, and reached for the oil. He didn't stop moving
his fingers though, he wanted to keep pushing Harry even as he
struggled to lubricate his own arousal. He moaned loudly as he
touched himself, his breath coming in short gasps. Voldemort knew he
could wait no longer. Pulling his fingers free he guided his thick
cock to Harry's entrance, stopping just before he entered. "Tell me
you want me inside you, Harry," he rasped out.
Harry nearly growled in frustration; he knew he was begging
mindlessly but he couldn't stop himself. "You, I want you inside
me," he cried. "Your... your cock," he finally managed to say,
blushing but not stopping. "Want you to fuck me, please..." Harry
had never even said the word before, and now he was begging his
worst enemy to do it to him. But still he didn't care. He needed it.
For a long moment Voldemort didn't move. He could only stare down in
Harry, shock and raging desire clear on his face. The older man was
so intensely aroused by the boy's words that he knew if he moved he
would come right then. He had thought himself in complete control,
but with a few words the child underneath him had completely
overwhelmed the dark wizard. Something inside him seemed to snap,
and he needed Harry with more intensity than he had ever
felt. "Yes," he said forcefully. "Yes, Harry, I'm going to fuck you
with my big, thick cock, and I won't stop until we've both come."
He slid his hands under Harry's thighs, wanting to lift the boy's
legs onto his shoulders, but he was stopped short by the magical
bindings. Voldemort let out a sound that was close to a
roar. "Lucius! Undo the boy's legs! Now!"
It took a moment for Lucius to act, as he was entranced by the sight
of the boy, and painfully aroused after hearing him begging to be
taken. He would have given his soul to be where his master was at
that moment. He pulled his own wand from his pocket and with a quick
wave the strands around Harry's legs vanished. As he replaced his
wand he couldn't help but slip his hand under his robes to touch
himself as he watched Lord Voldemort poised to take Harry Potter.
Panting hard, Voldemort got Harry's legs onto his shoulders, and
with a great effort slowly pushed himself through the tight ring and
into Harry's body. He moaned lowly, primally, as the child's body
squeezed around his erection. His fingers dug into Harry's hips with
bruising force as inch by inch he pushed his cock inside.
Harry panted as he felt Voldemort's erection impale him. It couldn't
possibly fit, but he felt so possessed as it slid inside him... The
new position made him feel even more vulnerable, and as he thrashed
his head he caught sight of the regal Lucius Malfoy looking flushed
as he... Harry gasped as he realised what the man was doing... the
Death Eater was so turned on by watching what Voldemort was doing to
him that he was touching himself. The complete perversity of the
situation was almost too much for him, and he realised he was
sobbing, still begging for more. His cock lay hard against his
stomach, weeping already.
Every muscle in Voldemort's body was strained and aching by the time
he was finally fully seated inside Harry. He had to pause, partially
so that Harry could adjust to the feeling, and also because
Voldemort had to catch his breath and try to calm himself. He had
never expected to feel such need for the boy who had been his
downfall. He had only planned to break Harry, to make the child
admit he wanted pleasure; he never expected to want it just as much
in return. He looked down upon Harry, and as their eyes met he began
Harry felt caught up in those red eyes, impaled by them just as
surely as he was held by the man's cock. He couldn't even think any
more, and stopped trying to fight it at last. He squirmed,
tightening his muscles around the invading length. He wanted
Voldemort to move faster, to pound into him, to ravish
It was all the encouragement Voldemort needed. He pulled back,
letting his cock slide almost all the way out of Harry, and then he
drove back in, moaning as the boy's body clenched around him. He did
it again, and again, gaining more force with each successive
Harry didn't even recognise his own voice; he *howled* as Voldemort
pounded into him. Each thrust felt better than the last; he felt
filled, taken, possessed, and he needed more. He pulled at his arm
bindings; not to get free but just because the pleasure he felt was
so intense that he couldn't hold still. He didn't even care that the
circle of Death Eaters watched this very intimate moment. In fact,
it only served to arouse him more.
The bed began to rock with the strength Voldemort's thrusts, but
that didn't stop him. He bent over Harry, curling the boy in two,
and began to lick and bite at the hard pink nipples that stood out
amidst Harry's sweat damp skin; he wanted to devour the child. His
hips kept up their movement, snapping in and out of the once virgin
body, pounding Harry into the bed. Voldemort knew he was close to
climax, with every forward thrust into the tight heat of the child's
body he was brought closer and closer to completion.
Harry's whole world was this bed, Voldemort driving into him and his
body screaming with pleasure. He cried out, wordlessly now, and
tried to arc up into every pounding thrust. He could never have
imagined anything this good, never thought that surrendering to his
enemy would bring such ecstasy. It was sick, twisted, and wrong, but
Harry would have killed for just a moment more.
One of Voldemort's hands released the boy's hip and wrapped itself
around Harry's straining cock. He wanted to come at the same time as
Harry; they shared so many bonds and now they would share this one
as well. He stroked quickly, knowing that he was on the cusp
already, and wanting to bring the child along with him. Lust burned
through his body, making him ache for release as he moved faster
still in and out of Harry's willing body.
Mouth open, gasping for air, Harry thought he would die as the dark
wizard touched his cock. Pleasure shot through him, taking him
abruptly into release, and the boy stopped breathing as the new
feelings washed over him. Faintly, he felt his seed coat his
stomach, but he was still climaxing; the feelings seemed never-
With a predatory smile, the older wizard watched as the child
beneath him climaxed. More beautiful than seeing Harry Potter
writhing in pain, was seeing him writhing in ecstasy, and knowing
that he had caused it. Power surged through Voldemort, blending in
with the intense pleasure he felt as the boy's body grew even
tighter around him. He bent Harry in half as he leaned over and
captured the boy's lips, forcing his tongue inside to ravish the
sweet mouth. With only a few more rough thrusts, he too was sent
into climax, his entire body tensing as he filled the boy with his
Still riding out his climax, Harry sucked greedily on Voldemort's
tongue as he felt the man's seed fill him. He felt also the power
surge around them the magic weaving though the air and through them
both. He opened his eyes; Voldemort appeared to be glowing, and
looked even more handsome than before.
Voldemort's release seemed to last forever, and when it finally
subsided he was left panting and dazed. His eyes met Harry's, and he
noticed that even though the boy had just come twice there still
seemed to be a bit of hunger in his green eyes. Voldemort didn't
move right away, he wanted to be inside the child for just a moment
longer, to savor the feeling just a little more. He hadn't planned
to lose himself so fully to the experience, but he didn't regret it;
he would have to make sure that Harry did, though. As he was still
leaning over, he shifted so he could speak into the boy's ear. "The
hands that just brought you pleasure were also the hands that took
your parents' lives." He paused to allow that to sink in. "You've
honored them well."
Harry's blood turned to ice as the pleasure ebbed from his body. All
that was left was horror at what he had allowed Voldemort to do to
him. And he'd enjoyed it. Gathering his wits, Harry snarled, "You
raped me. I didn't ask for this."
Laughing cruelly, Voldemort pulled himself free of Harry's body and
allowed the boy's legs to drop to the bed. He moved to the side,
lest the boy be foolish enough to try and kick him, and let his
fingers trail through the seed coating the child's stomach. "It's
not rape when you're willing, Harry. And you were quite clearly, and
loudly, begging for it."
Not letting on how much the dark wizard's words stung, Harry shot
back, "I'm a child. I *was* a virgin. I didn't want this, but you...
you touched me. And manipulated me. You're sick." He had to believe
this, couldn't admit how much he had wanted whatever Voldemort
wanted to give him, still.
"You're as sick as I am then, Harry, because you wanted this as much
as I did. You can lie all you'd like, but your body will speak the
truth..." With that Voldemort stood and moved away from the bed.
Lucius Malfoy came forward, looking flushed, and a bit disheveled.
He handed back his master's wand and send a longing look at where
Harry lay, still bound.
Voldemort cleaned himself and quickly redressed. "See him to the
dungeon, Lucius. You're not to touch him, yet. Once you've finished,
join me in my chambers. We shall discuss your son's future."
Voldemort swept out of the room after that, never looking back.
Harry closed his eyes so he wouldn't see Malfoy's eyes on him. But
then he felt himself roughly dragged off the bed; the bindings had
vanished and he found he could barely walk. Nevertheless, an
invisible hand seemed to pull him along as Lucius walked behind him,
holding out his wand. It was almost a relief when the man locked him
in the cold stone room. It meant that he no longer had to feel those
smirking grey eyes on him. But it also left him alone with his
He sank to the thin cot that was the room's only furnishing. He was
going to be rescued.
He had to believe that.
To be continued...