|snarryswapmod (snarryswapmod) wrote in snarry_swap,|
@ 2007-01-04 22:16:00
|Entry tags:||centaury_squill, creation: fic, rated: nc-17|
Happy Daft Day zalil_z!
Title: Raunchy Rescue
Warnings: dubious consent, parseltongue, bondage
Prompt/Summary: Include a scenario (plot device) you would like: my favourite pairings: SS/HP and LM/HP
Author's Note: I hope zalil_z will enjoy it; I certainly enjoyed writing it. Many thanks to the wonderful rakina, who did the beta.
Harry slouched aimlessly along the hot dusty streets of Little Whinging, his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his ripped and dirty jeans. It just wasn't FAIR, he'd been stuck here for WEEKS, no news, nothing, just a couple of miserable birthday cards from Ron and Hermione – and they said they weren't allowed to tell him what was going on. He'd even started taking the Daily Prophet but a lot of use THAT was. When were they going to admit that Voldemort was back? He kicked angrily against the kerb then winced, his old disintegrating trainers no protection against the hard concrete.
Limping, Harry left the street and crossed the parched brown grass of a play park. He was half disappointed that his porky cousin Dudley and his mates weren't there, terrorizing the local kids again. He felt like picking a fight with someone. He thumped his fist against a garden fence trying to give vent to his frustration. "Oi, quit that, you!" came an enraged bellow from the other side of the fence. Harry shrugged, and slouched over to a park bench beside a row of swings and a small roundabout. He sprawled full length on the bench and stared unseeingly over at the swings.
Why was everyone ignoring him? Why couldn't Ron, who was supposed to be his best mate, be bothered to tell him what was going on? And hadn't Mrs Weasley said he'd be invited to the Burrow this summer? They seemed to have forgotten all about THAT, fine friend Ron turned out to be. And Hermione was no better, just a scribble in his birthday card, expect we'll see you soon, but nobody seemed to be making any effort to see him; he might as well not exist! They were probably having so much fun together, they'd forgotten all about him.
Harry glared at the parched grass beside the bench; it was covered in litter – Muggles really were disgusting. There were cigarette stubs, sweet wrappers, empty cans, old newspapers... Hang on, wasn't that this morning's Daily Prophet? What the hell was THAT doing in a Muggle play park? And what was that headline? Something about Dark Wizards... Harry stared at it, surely this morning's paper had had some stupid article about an international wizards' conference or something – maybe this one was a special edition? – had those losers at the Prophet finally sussed that Voldemort was back? His heart pounding, Harry stretched out his hand and grabbed the newspaper.
He was immediately jerked into the air in a swirl of colours... it was the same feeling he'd had when touching the old boot on Stoatshead Hill on the way to the Quidditch World Cup a year ago – and again quite recently when holding the Triwizard Cup – it was a Portkey!
Harry stumbled, and nearly fell over, still clutching the rolled-up Prophet. He stared around, thoroughly disorientated. He seemed to be in some kind of bedroom – but one more ornately furnished than he'd ever seen. A tall mirror surrounded with elaborate scrollwork in what looked like real gold stood against the wall in front of him. And reflected in the mirror – standing right behind him – "Lucius Malfoy!" gasped Harry, snatching his wand from the waistband of his jeans.
But the older wizard was too quick for him. "That's Mr Malfoy to you, Potter," he sneered, his own wand already outstretched and pointing at Harry's, which flew out of his hand and lodged itself on top of an ornately carved wardrobe.
Lucius Malfoy stepped forward, smirking. "So predictable," he murmured. "Couldn't resist reading about your fame, could you, boy?"
With shaking hands, Harry unrolled the newspaper. For the first time, he read the complete headline: HARRY POTTER DEFEATS DARK WIZARDS. He stared at it stupidly. "But I didn't – this wasn't –"
"No, it wasn't," Mr Malfoy sneered, gesturing at the paper with his wand. The headline immediately faded, to be replaced by HEATED SCENES AT INTERNATIONAL WIZARDS' CONFERENCE.
"That's what it said this morning!" Harry said. "You mean you –"
"Yes, a simple transformation spell," Mr Malfoy said, smiling unpleasantly at him. "To catch a simple, stupid –"
"SHUT UP!" Harry shouted. "How dare you –"
"Oh no you don't!" Mr Malfoy was no longer smiling. Harry, who had flung himself at the older wizard, found himself on his back on the floor. Lucius Malfoy lowered his wand, and looked at him consideringly. "I think a little restraint is in order," he said, and raised his wand again. To his horror, Harry found himself kneeling on the floor, his hands fastened behind his back with what felt like cold iron manacles.
"And that filthy Muggle clothing offends me as well." Another gesture from his wand, and Harry's t-shirt vanished completely. "That's better," said Malfoy, staring at the boy's bare chest and beginning to breathe rather heavily. He slowly pointed the wand towards Harry's jeans.
"NO!" Harry shouted.
"You see, my young hero, the Dark Lord is a little displeased with me at present... he thinks I deserted his cause when he lost power... now if I can prove my allegiance by returning you to his hands... you see?"
"You filthy coward, I hope he kills you –"
"Really? Oh, I think the gift of The Boy Who Lived will appease him... but first, oh first, I really think I'll have a little amusement myself. Stand up, boy."
Harry scrambled reluctantly to his feet. He caught sight of himself in the long mirror, which gave him a loud wolf whistle. Lucius Malfoy laughed, and gestured again with his wand. The rest of Harry's clothing immediately disappeared, leaving him completely naked in front of the mirror, his hands manacled behind his back.
Lucius Malfoy inserted the tip of his wand under Harry's limp prick and delicately lifted it for inspection. "Charmingly pert," he murmured. "But I think I'd like it to display a little more interest." He blew down on it and muttered a spell. Harry stamped his foot, resisting with all his strength.
"FUCK OFF YOU FILTHY PERVERT!" he yelled.
"Why, you little –" Mr Malfoy snatched up a leather whip from the dressing table and advanced on Harry, brandishing it in the air. "I think I'd better teach you to respect your betters, you impertinent brat!"
"Well, well, what have we here?" drawled a familiar, sarcastic voice. "I think you'll find, Lucius, that the Dark Lord will prefer Potter to be, ah, unmarked."
Harry turned his head sharply. Professor Snape, his least favourite teacher of all time, was standing in the open doorway.
"Ah, Severus," Malfoy said. He didn't look at all pleased to see his fellow Death Eater. "I thought... in the circumstances... no one will ever know... a little amusement before I hand him over?"
"Good idea," Snape said, staring hard at Harry. "The Potter brat could do with bringing down a peg or two; a little sexual humiliation would be ideal."
"Oh, yes," Malfoy said. "But as you see, he doesn't seem to be, um, in the mood." He gestured with his wand at Harry's limp cock.
"He just needs... ah, handling properly," Snape said in a bored tone, giving Harry's cock a couple of casual tugs. To his horror, Harry found his cock hardening and straining eagerly towards his Potions professor.
"I always suspected you harboured secret feelings of lust for me," Snape sneered.
"I DON'T! I'VE NEVER FANCIED YOU, YOU GREASY GIT!!"
"Manners, Potter," Snape said icily, his black eyes glittering. "You need... discipline... I think we'd better have him kneeling on the bed, don't you, Lucius?"
The two wizards grabbed Harry and, despite his frantic struggles, positioned him on the bed. It didn't help that he could see his own struggles reflected in the full length mirror, and despite the danger he was in, he couldn't help feeling turned on.
“How vain,” Snape murmured mockingly, then, turning to Lucius Malfoy "You get him to suck you while I take him from behind."
Lucius looked a bit displeased about this, then shrugged and nodded. He smirked as he saw Snape spread his robe out to cover Harry's bare arse and his own cock from view before mounting the boy.
"You're not usually this coy, Severus... it's nothing I've not seen before."
Snape scowled at him. "You concentrate on your, ah, end and I'll deal with mine."
Lucius Malfoy slowly pulled out his half-hard cock and pushed it into Harry's face. Harry kept his lips obstinately closed and turned his face to one side.
"If you want to survive, Potter, you'd better co-operate," Snape muttered.
"Like you'd care if I survive!" Harry roared, nearly beside himself with rage and humiliation.
"Show us some action, boy, or you won't!" Lucius Malfoy growled, now massaging his own penis.
Snape plunged up and down on Harry's back. "I want you writhing on my cock like a speared salmon!" he bellowed. Harry sniggered, he couldn't help it. Snape behaving like some ham actor in a low budget porn movie?
Snape grabbed the boy's hair, pulled his head back and placed his lips against Harry's ear. "Ssssssssssss... trying to sssssssssave you, you sssssssstupid sssssssshhhhhhit... sssssssssss," Snape hissed furiously, in the worst imitation of Parseltongue Harry had ever heard. He could only hope that Malfoy senior was far too occupied with stroking his own cock to pay any attention. The thought had no sooner entered his mind than Mr Malfoy's cock, now fully hard, was poked into his face again.
"Distract him, you fool," Snape hissed angrily into Harry's ear.
Harry wasn't sure what to do. Could he trust Snape? Well, after all, Snape's enthusiastic thrusts weren't penetrating him – surely he couldn't really be that sexually inept – and maybe his theatrical groans of lust were just meant to fool Malfoy? Harry reluctantly opened his mouth and sucked on the tip of Lucius Malfoy's cock. Snape reached his hands round and pinched Harry's nipples hard, plunged up and down on the boy's back pretending to fuck him and shouted "YES!! NOW!!!"
Harry bit Malfoy's cock as hard as he could; the wizard shrieked with pain, there was a brilliant flash of light and he fell off the bed onto the luxurious Persian carpet, unconscious. Harry wriggled round and stared at Snape, who had his wand out, still pointing it at his fellow Death Eater.
"Well, that was one way of distracting him." Snape sounded amused.
"But won't you be in trouble with Voldemort – won't Malfoy remember you hit him with a hex –"
"I'll tell him he fainted with the pain when you bit him. And he won't want this publicised, you can be sure of that."
"But how will you explain me getting away?" Harry asked. "Er – you DO mean to let me go, don't you?" Snape was certainly making no move to release him from the handcuffs; in fact he seemed to be drinking in every detail of Harry's appearance. The boy was flushed, panting, spectacles askew, tousled hair falling into his brilliant green eyes. His cock strained towards the elder wizard. Feeling a rush of relief at being rescued from Lucius Malfoy, Harry couldn't resist teasing Snape. He stretched out a leg and insinuated his foot into the opening of Snape's robes. "Or do you really WANT me, like he did?"
"Be assured you leave me... quite unmoved," Snape said, but his voice shook slightly.
"So what was that WRITHE ON MY COCK LIKE A STUCK SALMON!!!
and I'LL SOAK YOU IN MY SPUNK!! all about then?" asked Harry, sliding his foot further inside Snape's robes.
"Merely for show," Snape said hoarsely. "And I don't remember saying anything about soaking you in my, ah, spunk..."
"Quite unmoved?" Harry jeered, moving his foot even further inside Snape's robes and curling his toes around the large bulge he found there. "Merely for show?" starting to massage it. "So what's this then – bring your pet snake in your pants did you?"
"Aaah... stop that! I might have known that a Potter would be a – a – little prick tease –"
"I'M NOT! You're just too scared to fuck me; you think Dumbledore would sack you –"
They glared at each other.
"Scared, am I? We'll see about that. Turn around, boy."
Shivering with a mixture of fear and savage anticipation, Harry obeyed. He heard Snape muttering and cursing behind him; straining his head back to look over his shoulder he saw the older wizard rubbing something onto his cock, which looked huge – red, threatening and glistening as it jutted towards Harry's arse.
Choking, gasping and struggling, his hands still manacled behind him, Harry felt Snape's hands on either side of his arse, steadying him for the first thrust. "Ssssoooo – I – have – you – UH – impaled" groaned Snape. "Writhe, my little salmon..."
Harry nearly collapsed under the energetic humping he was getting. His spectacles fell off onto the bed and he lurched forward, unable to bring his hands round to brace himself. He felt Snape's strong forearm around him, supporting him, and leaned gratefully into it. Snape had hit a slower rhythm now; his other hand reached round and grasped Harry's cock, pumping it in time to his lingering deep thrusts in Harry's tight arse, encouraging Harry to buck and wriggle against him as he did so.
Harry's vision blurred, the Dark Mark on Snape's sinewy forearm swimming before his eyes. The snake emerging from the skull appeared to wriggle. Harry found himself hissing broken sentences in Parseltongue – things he'd never thought he'd be saying to Snape – he was just so glad the man didn't really speak Parseltongue – he was begging to be fucked again and again, to come in his lover's arms, to belong just to him in complete surrender...
Snape seemed to respond with ever more urgent plunges and gasped out instructions until finally they climaxed together with long drawn-out, shuddering spasms and hot jets of spunk, after which they collapsed panting on the bed, utterly spent. "Well, that was... enlightening," Snape drawled, when at last he could speak. "I didn't realize you were quite so enamoured of me."
"I'm not!" Harry denied hotly. "I hate you as much as ever!"
"That's not what you were saying in the, ah, throes of passion" Snape murmured seductively in his ear.
"I wasn't! I was saying how much I hate you," Harry lied.
"Nonsense... " Snape trailed his hand gently over Harry's spent cock. "Fuck me, oh please, please, keep on fucking me, I'm yours, just yours," he mocked softly.
Harry blushed. "You're bluffing... you can't speak Parseltongue!"
"True," Snape admitted, smirking. "But I do understand a few words... under certain circumstances... a legacy of my, involvement with the Dark Lord... " His face became sombre. Harry shuddered.
Snape glanced over at Lucius Malfoy, still lying unconscious on the floor. "We'd better get you out of here before he comes round," he said. He picked up his wand, abandoned among the tumbled bedding, and tapped Harry's manacles: they immediately disappeared. Harry impulsively flung his arms around the elder wizard and held him close. "Thanks," he whispered against Snape's neck, and kissed him.
Snape bent his head so his curtains of black, greasy hair hung over both of them, and in turn put his arms around the younger wizard. They held each other for a long moment. At last Snape mumbled reluctantly "Come, we'd better Reappear your clothes. I must return you to your uncle and aunt more or less, ah, intact... or Professor Dumbledore will never forgive me."
"I'm not, er, intact though am I?" Harry said, and blushed.
"Well, you're no virgin any more," Snape sniggered. "But don't worry, it doesn't show... " He squeezed Harry closer and whispered "I won't tell anyone how enthusiastic you were, you little wanton – provided you let me ah, hone your talents from time to time... just come to my office when you're feeling particularly... needy."
Harry gulped, and nodded. The coming year at Hogwarts suddenly looked like being MUCH more fun than he'd ever anticipated...