Pairing: Voldemort/Harry Word Count: 693 Filled By: Member
Voldemort strode briskly past the bowed figures of his followers, sparing none of them even a fleeting glance as he left them behind.
His Death Eaters had their uses, yes, but with the exception of a very small handful, Voldemort cared little as to whether they lived or died. Humans were easy to replace, whereas Horcruxes, on the other hand...
He pushed open the door to his personal chambers, waiting silently in the doorway as he surveyed the form on the bed.
Harry was nude, and bound with the blackest rope tying his ankles and wrists to the headboards. Black silk covered his eyes, while his mouth was filled with a ball gag now glistening with slick saliva. Despite being deprived of his other senses, Harry's head whipped round to where Voldemort was still standing deadly still.
Voldemort smirked to himself; Harry knew the sounds of Voldemort's footsteps all too well now. Were it anybody else in the doorway, Harry would be struggling and putting up a fight, but in the months since Voldemort's triumph, Harry had come to willingly submit to him.
He couldn't kill his darling Horcrux, after all, and it would have been a shame to lock such a pretty face away in a dungeon.
"Good evening, Dearest," Voldemort said softy, slipping easily into Parseltongue. "Did you miss me?"
He took a seat at the end of the bed, stroking his long fingers across the length of Harry's firm thigh. Harry shivered; he was always so responsive to even the smallest of touches.
Voldemort's nails scratched lightly at Harry's thigh, red streaks staining the milky skin in a pattern of ownership. He deftly moved his hand to Harry's cock, already half-hard from Voldemort's gentlest of touches.
Harry moaned loudly behind his gag as Voldemort's fingers curled around his length, and he bucked up eagerly.
"Such a needy little thing," Voldemort tutted. "You desire my touch above anything else, don't you, my treasure?"
Harry nodded desperately, letting out a half-sob, half-whimper, as Voldemort released his grip.
"Don't fret, I'm not finished with you yet," Voldemort murmured, using his hands to part Harry's thighs. Harry spread them willingly, raising them just enough so Voldemort could access his hole. Voldemort smiled. "Such a good boy. So helpless, yet so eager to please me."
Harry shivered again as Voldemort reached a hand out to brush hair away from Harry's forehead. He held the tuft of hair tightly as he studied the scar marking Harry's as Voldemort's most precious; he leaned over Harry to flick his split tongue over the scar.
Releasing Harry's hair, he moved his hand to rest on Harry's throat, while his other slipped between soft thighs to finger the tight hole in between.
Harry whimpered again, bucking upwards as his wrists strained against the rope holding him there. His cock was fully-hard and leaking now, and Voldemort knew it wouldn't be long until Harry was spilling his release. He knew exactly how to work Harry now, how he loved to be bound and have his senses deprived, only able to truly let go once he was utterly helpless and at Voldemort's mercy.
Voldemort wasn't usually one to indulge in other's desires, but Harry was his most treasured possession, and even in imprisonment he could make him happy.
"So responsive for me," Voldemort purred as he slipped a third finger inside Harry. "I don't even need to touch your cock to make you come, do I? I know all your deepest desires, Dearest. Come for me."
Harry did, tears staining the silk blindfold as he spilled his release over his stomach, body trembling from the sheer intensity of his orgasm. Voldemort cupped Harry's face, removing the ball gag before capturing Harry's lips in a possessive kiss.
"Thank you," Harry murmured as Voldemort pulled away, wandlessly removing Harry's blindfolds and restraints.
"Anything for you, my treasure. Now clothe yourself, and don't come down to the dungeons."
Harry nodded, giving Voldemort a small smile.
With his Horcruxes needs met, Voldemort could now concentrate on himself. Sex wasn't particularly of interest to him, but torturing the prisoners in the dungeon...now that was better than anything.
Word Count: 693
Filled By: Member
Voldemort strode briskly past the bowed figures of his followers, sparing none of them even a fleeting glance as he left them behind.
His Death Eaters had their uses, yes, but with the exception of a very small handful, Voldemort cared little as to whether they lived or died. Humans were easy to replace, whereas Horcruxes, on the other hand...
He pushed open the door to his personal chambers, waiting silently in the doorway as he surveyed the form on the bed.
Harry was nude, and bound with the blackest rope tying his ankles and wrists to the headboards. Black silk covered his eyes, while his mouth was filled with a ball gag now glistening with slick saliva. Despite being deprived of his other senses, Harry's head whipped round to where Voldemort was still standing deadly still.
Voldemort smirked to himself; Harry knew the sounds of Voldemort's footsteps all too well now. Were it anybody else in the doorway, Harry would be struggling and putting up a fight, but in the months since Voldemort's triumph, Harry had come to willingly submit to him.
He couldn't kill his darling Horcrux, after all, and it would have been a shame to lock such a pretty face away in a dungeon.
"Good evening, Dearest," Voldemort said softy, slipping easily into Parseltongue. "Did you miss me?"
He took a seat at the end of the bed, stroking his long fingers across the length of Harry's firm thigh. Harry shivered; he was always so responsive to even the smallest of touches.
Voldemort's nails scratched lightly at Harry's thigh, red streaks staining the milky skin in a pattern of ownership. He deftly moved his hand to Harry's cock, already half-hard from Voldemort's gentlest of touches.
Harry moaned loudly behind his gag as Voldemort's fingers curled around his length, and he bucked up eagerly.
"Such a needy little thing," Voldemort tutted. "You desire my touch above anything else, don't you, my treasure?"
Harry nodded desperately, letting out a half-sob, half-whimper, as Voldemort released his grip.
"Don't fret, I'm not finished with you yet," Voldemort murmured, using his hands to part Harry's thighs. Harry spread them willingly, raising them just enough so Voldemort could access his hole. Voldemort smiled. "Such a good boy. So helpless, yet so eager to please me."
Harry shivered again as Voldemort reached a hand out to brush hair away from Harry's forehead. He held the tuft of hair tightly as he studied the scar marking Harry's as Voldemort's most precious; he leaned over Harry to flick his split tongue over the scar.
Releasing Harry's hair, he moved his hand to rest on Harry's throat, while his other slipped between soft thighs to finger the tight hole in between.
Harry whimpered again, bucking upwards as his wrists strained against the rope holding him there. His cock was fully-hard and leaking now, and Voldemort knew it wouldn't be long until Harry was spilling his release. He knew exactly how to work Harry now, how he loved to be bound and have his senses deprived, only able to truly let go once he was utterly helpless and at Voldemort's mercy.
Voldemort wasn't usually one to indulge in other's desires, but Harry was his most treasured possession, and even in imprisonment he could make him happy.
"So responsive for me," Voldemort purred as he slipped a third finger inside Harry. "I don't even need to touch your cock to make you come, do I? I know all your deepest desires, Dearest. Come for me."
Harry did, tears staining the silk blindfold as he spilled his release over his stomach, body trembling from the sheer intensity of his orgasm. Voldemort cupped Harry's face, removing the ball gag before capturing Harry's lips in a possessive kiss.
"Thank you," Harry murmured as Voldemort pulled away, wandlessly removing Harry's blindfolds and restraints.
"Anything for you, my treasure. Now clothe yourself, and don't come down to the dungeons."
Harry nodded, giving Voldemort a small smile.
With his Horcruxes needs met, Voldemort could now concentrate on himself. Sex wasn't particularly of interest to him, but torturing the prisoners in the dungeon...now that was better than anything.