Entry tags:

draco malfoy, draco/fenrir, draco/lucius/narcissa, fenrir greyback, harry potter, harry/lucius, harry/voldemort, lucius malfoy, narcissa malfoy, voldemort

[FIC] Wicked Game: Harry/Lucius, Draco/Fenrir
Originally posted here on 4 September 2007

Title: Wicked Game
Requestor: sktypied
Author:
Rating: NC:17
Pairings: Harry/Lucius, Draco/Fenrir, Lucius/Draco/Narcissa, Harry/Voldemort
Summary: The War is over and Voldemort has won. He is about to play a very cruel game…
Word count: 8, 538
Warnings: bestiality, Malfoy!cest, chan, watersports, non-con, tying, blood-play, knife!play, breathplay, violent!sex, wall!sex, coming too soon, orgasm denial, humiliation, mind games and hurt/comfort in that respect, exhibitionism/voyeurism, physical punishment, multiple character death VERY DARK FIC

Beta Readers: rdwind amd sporadic__
Author's Notes: This is sktypied for the hp_summersmut community. First of all, I want to say a big thank you to thescarletwoman for the extensions and especially to sktypied who tolerated my constant anonymous questions over this assignment. A special thanks to R and S, my beta readers.

sktypied, I hope you liked this. As you can tell, I put in a lot of your kinks as well as other elements such as: parseltongue, dirty talk, darker fics, plot as well as smut, polyjuice activity, animalistic, dominant but not stupid!Fenrir. Now, I know in the first part of the fic, Lucius sounds OOC but trust me, there is an explanation. I was inspired by the following pieces of art: Keeping In Line by ariadneelda, Trusting the Dark Man by mieronna and this feast of Malfoy!cest art by various artists. One more thing, some of the spells are unknown to the HP world and that is because I made up, inspired by the following sites: Online English to Latin to English Dictionary and Free Online Latin to English Translators (“Suffoco” direct Latin for “choke”, “Efflo”- direct Latin for “to breathe out”, “Dolens”- direct Latin for “painfully”, “Expedio”- Direct Lain for “to release” and “Termino”- Direct Latin for “restrict”)





Draco did not want the two Death Eaters touching him and he made this very clear as they dragged him down the corridors. At aged eighteen, he was as strong as anyone who had spent their teen years playing Quidditch but the Death Eaters were also strong enough to keep a tight grip on him.

He was forced down several hallways before the trio entered a large room. A throne stood at the far end of the room and Death Eaters stood in two lines at either side of the throne. He suddenly realised he was naked and wished he could cover himself. The Death Eater threw him at the foot of the throne. Draco looked up to see Lord Voldemort staring at him with disgust.

His voice held the same tone. “Who gave you the permission to look up at me, boy?”

After a slight pause, Draco said confidently, “My father will hear of this once he has left Azkaban. He won’t allow this.”

The Dark Lord leaned back onto his throne. “On the contrary, your father is already here and he knows of your failure.”

Fear shot along Draco’s spine before enveloping his entire body. “And what did he say?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Voldemort raised his bony hand, beckoning the Death Eater that was closest to the throne to come even closer. Draco watched as the hooded figure walked until he stood by the Dark Lord’s side. The figure pulled the hood from over his head and Draco could see the stern face of his father. In any other situation, he would have been happy to see Lucius, as it had been two years since the older man had been taken away to Azkaban and Draco had missed his father badly. But, given the very cold gaze that Lucius was giving his son, the sight filled the young man’s stomach with dread.

“Father,” he said softly.

The response was a hard slap on his face from Lucius. Draco huddled into himself, placing a hand on his now-sore cheek.

Voldemort sneered. “I think that was your answer, boy.”

Draco said almost desperately. “Father, please. I’m sorry.” When Lucius looked at his son, maintaining his silence, Draco clutched onto his robes and pleaded. “I tried to complete the task but I just couldn’t. Father, please!”

“Enough!” Voldemort barked.

Draco turned towards Voldemort, almost desperately, he begged, “My Lord…”

“I said, enough! It’s time for your punishment.”

Before the young man could protest, he was lifted to his feet by strong hands, forced out of the room and back down the corridors until he was tossed into a dark cell. The only light came from the small barred window which was placed high up the wall. He suddenly heard the doors shut as well as the sound of a key turning. He watched as Voldemort and Lucius moved towards him. Draco walked backwards until he was pressed against the cold wall. The two older men kept moving until he was inches away from he young man.

“I could kill you right here and now...” An evil smile formed on Voldemort’s skeletal face, “…but that would be no fun. Would it, Greyback?”

A gruff voice spoke from the shadows. “No, my Lord.”

Draco turned to see the naked figure of Fenrir Greyback emerge from the darkness and stride towards him. Unlike most werewolves, Greyback was very strongly built, more so than Draco. The young man suddenly felt panic take control and he turned to his father in desperation.

“Father, please.” He begged.

With one meaty fist, Fenrir gripped hold of Draco’s throat, squeezing with sharp nails. He pulled the young man close until their noses were touching and Draco could smell the werewolf’s foul dog-like breath. Draco wanted to vomit and tried to gulp it down despite Fenrir’s tight grip.

The werewolf growled. “I suggest you keep quiet.”

He crushed even tighter and Draco fought to release himself from the grip. He kicked and struggled but his efforts were no match for Greyback’s strength.

“That’s what I like to see in my victims,“ Fenrir chuckled, “a bit of fighting spirit.”

Suddenly, Draco was thrown into the air by Greyback and landed on something soft that dwelled in the dark. He felt the worn-out material rubbing against his skin and he knew that he collapsed onto a mattress. He crawled on his hands and knees in the dark, so consumed in getting himself out of the situation that he did not see Greyback coming slowly towards him. Suddenly, Draco grabbed onto a loose brick in the wall but then Fenrir’s strong frame pinned him against the cold wall.

Hot air filled Draco’s ear as Fenrir taunted. “Don’t tell me you want to leave so soon? I thought we were going to have some fun.”

Voldemort’s evil laugh filled the room. Draco turned to see that the Dark Lord was now sat on a chair as though it was a throne and his father was standing rigidly beside him.

Draco pleaded. “Father, please. I’m sorry.”

Fenrir grabbed hold of his victim’s blonde hair and pulled his head back. He growled, “Are you really so stupid? Your father has come to watch you suffer, not to help you.”

The cruel words hit through Draco like a blunt knife to his body. He did not want to believe the werewolf and yet, he was finding it difficult not to believe the werewolf’s words. The evidence was there: his own father, who would spoil his son rotten and do anything for him, was now simply standing and watching him become subject to this beast’s animalistic cravings!

Fenrir wrapped his arms around Draco, dragging him to the centre of the mattress and positioning him so he could see out of the barred window. Draco struggled as much as he could but the werewolf’s hold was too strong. Fenrir released one hand, but even then Draco could not escape his grasp. He slid a thick sharp fingernail down the young man’s toned torso before gliding it down his flaccid organ.

Draco cried out, his voice a mixture of fear and arousal. ”Stop it!”

Fenrir gripped hold of Draco’s cock, digging his fingernails into the sensitive flesh, causing the young man to whimper. “Do you want me to bite it off?” Fenrir snarled threatening in Draco’s ear. “Do you want me to turn you into a eunuch and then fuck you blind as you bleed to death?” When Draco did not answer, Fenrir jabbed his nails in harder. “Do you?”

Choking back tears and another painful cry, Draco frantically shook his head to which Fenrir answered. “Then I advise that you never tell me what to do again.”

Fenrir scraped his sharp nails across Draco’s cock, making the young man to cry out in a mixture in pain, fear and arousal. He looked down to see his cock harden and felt ashamed. He looked at his father again and was dismayed that he had not moved from his spot and was staring at his son indifferently. He wanted to plead, to try one more time to get through to his father to help him or at least inflict the punishment himself but he knew there was no point. His father was simply going to watch and nothing more.

The werewolf pinned the young man to the itchy mattress and mounted him like a dog would to his mate. Suddenly, he impaled Draco with his unbelievably thick cock, grinning secretly as Draco yelled in excruciating pain. He was no virgin, his parents had made sure of that, but it still felt as if his virginity was being ripped from him. More tears filled his eyes and it took all his restraint not to let them fall. He would not cry, he could not.

Before Draco could accustom to the pain, Fenrir started to thrust his hips, not caring that the young man was in agony. Instead, he indulged in it, especially when Draco tried to spread his legs to accommodate the werewolf’s inhumanly large erection. His efforts were in vain because Fenrir had very strong legs, which made the blonde helpless.

Wet sounds filled the room and this only excited Fenrir more, he knew that Draco’s anus was bleeding and the thought of raping his victim’s bloody anus was a serious turn-on for him, enticing him to impale Draco even harder. Suddenly, Greyback’s cock rubbed over Draco’s prostate that sent intense pleasurable sensations throughout his body, especially on his already aching erection. The young man’s cries of pain turned to uncontrollable moans of passion and need. He wanted to touch himself but his arms were trapped by the tight and unloving embrace of the werewolf.

Voldemort hissed in the darkness. “I suggest that you hold off your need to come, boy unless you want to feel more pain.”

The voice of the witness brought him out of any pleasure he might have felt. More pain! Draco thought. What could be more painful or humiliating than this!?

“Especially when the full moon comes.” Voldemort continued. “Greyback can be uncontrollable when that happens.”

Fenrir continued to violate Draco who could not stop moaning at the sensations that continued to flow through his sexually tensed body. The room grew darker and Draco looked up through the window. He saw that the sun was setting, to be replaced by an unmistakable full moon.

Full moon? Draco thought. Oh shit!

Greyback’s nails dug deeper into Draco’s tensed body. He winched, knowing that the werewolf’s beefy hands were transforming into furry clawed paws. He felt Fenrir’s body stiffen against his back. The werewolf roared triumphantly, taking delight in what the transformation was doing to him and by the end, his roar was a howl. The most surprising change was that of his cock; it grew thicker and rougher, damaging Draco’s anus more.

Draco now understood what Voldemort meant by more pain and he used all of his energy to stop himself from climaxing. He focused on the aching, but arousing, feeling in his cock. The pain in his backside became almost enjoyable. Each thrust was pushing Draco closer to the edge and he tried harder to stop the inevitable.

Suddenly, he felt something wet wrapping along his red-hot shaft and saw that Voldemort was licking his own lips. Before he could protest, he climaxed, spilling come all over the mattress. His thighs turned to rubber and his spine felt like jelly. One last cry elicited from his mouth which was followed by an excited howl from behind and the feeling of being filled by hot come.

Fenrir let go of Draco who tumbled onto the mattress. There was an uncomfortable silence as he lay motionless, wondering when the real pain was going to come. Suddenly, a paw turned Draco onto his back and he found himself gazing up at a bulking wolf-like creature with menacing yellow eyes.

A paw swiped at the young man’s stomach, drawing blood down his pale skin. Another swift movement brought more blood onto his belly. Instinctively, Draco tried to move away but was instantly pinned by the werewolf. He heard footsteps and he turned to see his father walked to the door before opening it.

“No!” Draco screamed. “Don’t leave me here! Please!”

His pleas went ignored as Lucius unlocked the door, opened it and walked out of the cell. Draco did not see Lucius as he made his way down the corridor, his long blonde hair shortened and began to darken. His facial features transformed, even the colour of his eyes. By the time he had reached the end of the corridor, he was no longer Lucius at all. He turned a corner and left the loud screams behind.

*****

Harry wished that he was back in his dungeon cell. True, it had been cold and dark which did not help that after being defeated in the final battle, he had been stripped roughly of his clothing before being left to suffer. He had also been given little food and received less sleep, mainly due to the constant nightmares but he still preferred all that to the humiliating situation he was in now.

Several days earlier, he had been taken form his cell and was now confined to a cage that was so small that the only possible position was to lie in a tight foetal position on the hard floor. He was still naked but the air was warmer than in the cell and he could have tolerated it if it was not for what he had to endure. During the evening, the cage was hoisted from the ceiling of Voldemort’s private chambers but during the day, Voldemort transferred the cage to a more public place where he could be mocked by the surviving Death Eaters.

He could not even fight back--his wrists and ankles were always invisibly bonded to the cage bars and he was positioned so that his genitals were on display. Some Death Eaters would visit every day and mock him, saying that the ‘Great Harry was not so Great at all’. They would reach out to touch and tease his penis, taking joy in watching Harry squirm as well trying to resist the urge to moan. No matter how much he tried though, his body would always betray him and he would climax, much to his tormenters’ amusement. The worst was Bellatrix LeStrange, who would taunt him about Sirius, but no matter what she said, he never retaliated. There was no point.

He was now back in Voldemort’s chambers shuffling uncomfortably in the dark, knowing that his situation would not become any more bearable. It had been a while since Voldemort had left the chambers and Harry was dreading his return for that would mean more time in the public of someone he had tried to destroy. He hated being alone though; when he was by himself, his mind would begin to wander and then the memories would return to him.

Hermione and Ron had died during the destruction of the seventh Horcrux but after what Harry had seen, he believed that they had been lucky--their deaths had been quick and hopefully painless. Harry had watched so many people die in the final battle: poor Neville had perished at Bellatrix’s hand; Tonks had been savaged by Fenrir and had died in Remus’ arms. Remus had been tortured to the brink of death but Harry knew that he was alive and was now Fenrir’s plaything, as he had heard many things from the Death Eaters over the last few days. And of course, the worst memory of them all was the death of Ginny. His plucky and determined Ginny who had died in his loving arms.

He wanted to die. He tried to remind himself that he had to continue his resistance for he was the Chosen One but he did not care anymore. He had failed--there was no denying that fact. Voldemort was in power now and was unstoppable. All the young wizard could hope for was that his inevitable death would be quick and painless although he knew that would be very unlikely.

The door opened and he heard someone whisper an illuminating spell. Voldemort entered the room and was followed by a familiar but unwelcome presence, well unwelcome in Harry’s opinion--Lucius Malfoy. He strode into the room and the look on his face filled Harry’s stomach with anxiety. Harry knew Lucius hated him especially since Harry had tricked the older man into freeing Dobby; not to mention foiling his plans involving Voldemort’s diary. However, there was something about the way Lucius looked at Harry as the young Wizard lay helpless--something to be feared.

Lucius said coldly, “Well, this is a sight I had never expected to see.”

It then hit Harry on what was wrong. Every single Death Eater who had seen him in his cage had mocked, belittled and tormented him. They all had done so with smirks on their faces. Lucius, on the other hand, was not even smiling. Harry found it to be very odd that this man who probably wanted this moment to come was now looking at him with hateful and disgust rather than a satisfied smug.

Harry spoke boldly. “Well, I hope I haven’t disappointed you.”

“Crucio!” Voldemort barked and almost instantly, a wave of unimaginable pain shot through Harry, causing him to scream out loud. Voldemort continued. “You have no right to speak after what you have done.”

“I have done nothing more,” Harry retorted, “than try to destroy you.”

“Yes and you failed at that,” Voldemort laughed. “But, that is not what I’m talking about. I mean about the fact that you murdered Draco Malfoy.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. “What? I never did that!”

“Why do you lie, Potter?” Voldemort’s voice was composed which only made Harry feel more uneasy.

The Dark Lord lifted a hand towards the cage which then lowered to the ground. A flick of the wrist and Harry saw the cage door open.

Voldemort continued. “I saw the death in your mind. You killed Draco and now you must get your comeuppance.” He nodded towards the other man. “He’s all yours, Lucius. And I recommend that you use this.”

Lucius looked at where the Dark Lord was pointing, sneering as he did so. Harry tried his hardest to lift his head so he could see as well. All three Wizards were gazing at a leather collar lying on the large bed. A very long metal chain was attached to the collar.

Instinctively, Harry tired to move but his wrists and ankles were fused to the cage bars. Lucius slowly moved towards the imprisoned boy, picking up the collar and leash along the way. He knelt down by the cage, staring at Harry with a cold mocking smile.

“Are we having problems, Potter?” Lucius taunted.

With the collar in both hands, he wrapped it around Harry’s neck. Harry thrashed about in the cage as much as he could, twisting and hissing in Parseltongue but Lucius was able to enclose his neck in the collar. Lucius whispered a charm and the pressure eased around Harry’s invisible bonds.

The blonde stood and grabbed hold of the end of the chain. He yanked it but Harry refused to move, shaking his head violently.

Lucius pulled at the chain harder. “Don’t disobey me, Potter.”

Harry smirked, “Look at yourself, Malfoy. You’re lowering yourself to fuck half-bloods.”

Lucius pulled the chain so hard that Harry was forced out of his cage and into a kneeling position. The older man smacked Harry firmly across the face. He lowered his head so close that Harry could feel Lucius’ hot breath on his cheek.

“Considering that you murdered my son, you’re in no position to be flippant.”

“I didn’t murder your son!” Harry called out defensively. “He was….”

“Suffoco!” Lucius cried.

Suddenly, Harry’s throat tightened under the collar and his unspoken words were wrenched out of his mouth. He grabbed hold of the collar and tried hard to wrench it off, finding it difficult to breathe. He was forced to stare at his tormentor smiling coldly at him as Lucius twisted the chain in his hands. After a few seconds, although to Harry, it felt like a few hours, he heard Lucius say “Efflo” and the pressure eased. He took a large gulp of fresh air and felt his body weaken.



Lucius laughed. “Next time you open your mouth without permission, I’ll make the collar tighter and the ordeal will last longer. Understand?”

Harry wanted to say no, to defy Lucius but he knew there was no point. He could try to fight both Wizards but despite being well toned from years of Quidditch, the lack of food had left him weakened. Also, he would be no match for either of them for they could make them submissive through their wands. It was hopeless in trying to protest his innocence--after all, why would Lucius want to believe someone whom he hated so much? He nodded his head, trying to remain dignified.

“Good boy.” Lucius loosed his grip on the chain before tugging it. “Now, stay on your knees and come on the bed with me.”

Lucius moved towards the bed and Harry had no choice but to follow him. He shuffled on the floor before being pulled up onto the bed by the chain. As he knelt on the duvet, he saw Voldemort sitting on a chair directly in front of the bed and he was staring at Harry with a contented smirk on his face on his chalk-white face.

“I never thought you would become so submissive so quickly.” Voldemort mocked. “Or maybe it’s a position that you’re used to, like with Sirius Black perhaps.”

Lucius rubbed his fingers coarsely in Harry’s hair. “Oh yes, Black’s bitch. I think that name suits you very well, Potter. After all, everyone knows that Azkaban can make one demented.”

“You mean, like you, Malfoy?” Harry asked bitterly.

“Suffoco!”

The tightness returned around Harry’s neck. He immediately reached for the collar and tried to get it off. This time, the more he struggled, the more the collar constricted, cutting off his air. His chest felt as if it was on fire and every breath he tried to inhale never reached his lungs.

“I warned you, Potter,” Lucius snarled, “but I love how I have struck a chord. Do you miss being Black’s bitch?”

Dizziness crept into Harry’s mind and he collapsed onto the bed. As the world started to turn black, he thought. This is it. I’m going to die!

“Perhaps you would like to breathe again, Potter?”

Say no! Harry’s mind screamed. Shake your head and just let it end now!

Harry wanted to but the pain in his body was agonising and he desperately nodded.

Lucius smirked. “Beg for it.”

“Please,” Harry’s plead was almost inaudible. “Please let me breathe again.”

“I don’t think I heard that.”

“Please. I want to breathe.” His voice now sounded strained.

Lucius said “Efflo” and the collar expanded again. Harry took in air greedily, cursing in Parseltongue with each new breath. Harry lay on his side, looking at the Dark Lord. He now noticed that Voldemort’s legs were now apart and his hand was tucked inside his trousers.

He’s getting turned by this! Harry thought. The sick fuck!

“My, my, such language but yet, I am enjoying watching you suffer but what would arouse me more is watching you bleed.”

Harry felt Lucius move across the bed and he darted his eyes to watch him pick up a sharp knife from the bedside table. He glided the blade gently across Harry’s shoulder so that all the young man could feel were goosebumps dancing on his skin.

“Such an untainted body--not a scratch on him.” Lucius murmured. “Yes, my Lord. I think that should be remedied. Dolens!”

Harry’s body immediately tensed up and he could feel the duvet beneath him become softer against his bare skin. Lucius dug the tip of the blade on Harry’s thigh and the young man flinched. Lucius tossed Harry on his belly and forced his wrists behind his behind his back. The Death Eater called out a hex and Harry’s wrists became invisibly fused together again.

Lucius wrapped his arm around Harry’s collared neck and forced the young man to his knees so that his arms were sandwiched between his back and Lucius’ chest. The blonde slowly glided the knife across the length of Harry’s torso from nipple to bellybutton. He never cut into the skin but terror still crept down Harry’s spine to his thighs, turning them into jelly.

Voldemort moaned softly. “I never thought I’d never see you on your knees but to feel your fear flowing you...” A satisfied sigh. “…it’s delicious.”

“Are you scared, Potter?” Lucius asked.

“His thighs are trembling; Lucius but then again you were always brilliant at torment.”

“Good.” Lucius whispered in Harry’s ear. “Now keep still, Potter. We wouldn’t want to cut anything off by accident now, would we?”

Suddenly, he swiped the blade across Harry’s chest and the pain was excruciating, perhaps too much considering it was not a deep cut. Harry screamed, not caring that he could be punished with the collar.

“That’s it, Potter.” Lucius moaned in delight. “Scream pretty for me.”

He cut the knife in deeper, drawing blood this time. The torturous sensation brought more agonising screams out of the young man’s mouth. He could feel the blood flow from the wound and down his body before creating a red puddle between his knees.

“This is why I love this spell. Have you ever heard it before, Potter?” Lucius spoke. “It makes the nerves more sensitive to pain. It’s a beautiful spell to use.”

Voldemort watched Lucius continue to mutilate Harry’s body, absorbing the pain and fear rising in the young man. His cock was rock-hard and already aching for release but he was enjoying the sensations too much to let it end so soon. He let his long fingers stroke his erection, pleasure entwining with Harry’s agony. Voldemort’s eyes gazed upon Harry’s limp penis and focused his self-induced pleasure into the young man. Almost instantly, a hoarse moan escaped from Harry and the Dark Lord watched Harry’s cock grow and harden.

Harry squirmed under Lucius’ tight grip, hissing, “No! No!”

“Yessss” Voldemort hissed back. In his normal tongue, he said to Lucius. “Our little whore is beginning to feel aroused, but I don’t think he should come yet. Termino! There, that should restrict our little whore’s orgasm until we are ready. I think you should make one more cut…for lubrication.”

Lucius released his hold on Harry who collapsed onto the bed once again, causing abrasion to his open wounds. He pressed his hand on Harry’s head to keep his face down on the duvet. He slowly drew the knife down Harry’s spine without drawing blood. When Harry felt the sharp tip pinching his virginal entrance, he flinched his hips away from the touch.

Lucius commanded, “Keep still.” Gripping hold of Harry’s hair, he continued. “After all, you wouldn’t want me to make a mistake, do you?”

Harry shook his head as best as he could, although he found it difficult to do so. When he felt the knife again, he tightened his thighs but he did not move. He clenched tighter when Lucius slowly slid the knife into his backside. He twisted the blade hard, watching the blood drip down the back of Harry’s legs. Harry screamed but his voice was croaky. The pain was so intense that Harry never noticed when Lucius pulled the knife out and thrusted his cock into its place. It was only when Lucius groaned in ecstasy that Harry realised what was happening.

“Pull his head up, Lucius.” Voldemort groaned in delight. “I want to see his face as you fuck him.”

Lucius obeyed, yanking Harry’s hair, not caring if he caused pain to his victim. Harry closed his eyes out of humiliation.

“Open your eyes, boy.” When Harry refused, Voldemort repeated, “Open you eyes or I’ll tighten the collar again.” Harry obeyed and could see that the Dark Lord’s trousers were open, exposed his large erection. “Good boy. Now keep your eyes open. Look away and I’ll use the collar on you.”

With one hand in Harry’s hair and the other holding onto his waist, Lucius cruelly impaled Harry, the constant flow of blood making each new thrust rough and sticky. It caused pain to Lucius as well but he took pleasure knowing that Harry was suffering even more. When he rubbed over Harry’s prostate, the young man moaned hoarsely. Lucius repeated the motion, hearing excited sounds coming from his victim. He slowed his thrusts, still rubbing against his prostate. Harry’s body jerked and he gyrated his hips fast onto Lucius’ bloody erection.

Lucius chuckled evilly. “Looks like the Great Harry Potter is nothing more like a slut who loves being fucked by cock. Keep moving those hips.”

Harry did not want to, but the feeling of the collar around his neck compelled him to obey. He moved his body so he could stimulate Lucius. The orgasmic feeling that came with each thrust was so addictive that he moved his hips faster and harder until it became a natural impulse. Harry watched Voldemort stroke his own cock and he could feel invisible fingers own, making him hiss in delight.

Harry! His mind cried out. What are you doing? You’re not supposed to enjoying this!

It feels so good…so nice!

He’s raping you! They both are! Don’t give into them! Say something! Anything!

He wanted to follow his thinking but the pleasure he was receiving was becoming too delicious to deny. He could feel his cock ready to burst but he could not come--the spell had made sure of that.

It finally came to an end when Lucius climaxed in him, twisting Harry’s hair in his fist and moaning in satisfaction. Harry felt a spurt of hot come fill him before being discarded onto the mattress.

Voldemort called out. “Expedio!”

Harry cried out as he came, spilling come in the puddle of blood. Moments later, Voldemort climaxed silently. Harry lay still on his side and watched as Lucius pulled on his leather trousers. He glimpsed at Lucius’ now-limp penis and saw that it was covered in blood--his blood.

Lucius smiled at his victim. “I once said that you would meet a sticky end. I just never realised just how sticky it would be and that I would be involved.”

Voldemort said. “There will be many more opportunities for you to give him more ‘sticky ends’ if you wish.”

The blonde smirked. “It would be a pleasure, my Lord. I will leave you now with the little whore.”

He left the room, picking up his discarded shirt on the way. When the pair was alone, Harry still laid motionless on the bed, trying hard not to shake out of shock of the nightmare he had just survived.

Oh Merlin, what has just happened?

“You gave into your urges,” Voldemort answered, “like the little whore that you are.”

“I am not a whore!” Harry called out, forgetting about the collar.

“Oh but you are. You were hissing in delight. You were hungry for his cock.”

“No!”

“Yes.” Voldemort’s voice was unusually calm, almost seductive. He beckoned with his finger. “Come here.”

Harry did not response at first but when the collar started to tighten, he immediately moved, shuffling across the bed until he tumbled onto the floor, hitting his body hard.

“Come here, pet.” Voldemort insisted. “On your knees.”

Harry shuffled across the floor until he was kneeling between the Dark Lord’s open legs. Voldemort reached for the chain that was now dangling down Harry’s back and yanked it so that green eyes were staring into his own red ones. He stroked Harry’s tear-stained cheek before cupping his chin.

“You know that I could put you back in your cage.” An evil smile appeared on Voldemort’s face. “But I think I prefer you like this, like a disobedient pet that can easily be broken. Maybe, instead of displaying you in your cage, I could let the Death Eaters play with your wanton little body, especially Bellatrix and Greyback. Bella has got a thing for you and Greyback loves young blood.” Voldemort leaned forward. “Of course, you can always stop this useless torture and just give yourself to me.”

Harry spat. “Never!”

Voldemort squeezed Harry’s chin. “After all the trouble you’ve caused me over the years, I could kill you right now; but you have more potential than all my followers combined. Become my equal, Harry and you will have unimaginable power and pleasure. We can rule the Wizarding and Muggle worlds together. The War is over and joining me is your only path.”

An image appeared in Harry’s mind and he knew it was coming from Voldemort. He closed his eyes but that only made the vision stronger:

Harry in Death Eater robes but standing at Voldemort’s side as an equal, not his follower. Suddenly, he could see the ghosts of his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Ron, Neville, Tonks and Ginny--yes, he could see his precious Ginny in tears at what he had become.

He opened his eyes and said defiantly, “I would rather die.”

He expected the Dark Lord to kill him there and then--to use his wand to place the death curse or to let him choke to death with the collar. So it was a surprise when Voldemort did nothing.

An idea clicked in his mind. “You can’t kill me, can you? You want to but you can’t.”

Voldemort slapped Harry’s face before standing up. He led his prisoner to the bed in silence and tied the chain to the post. He then walked towards the chamber door.

Before he left, Harry asked, “Draco isn’t dead, is he?”

The Dark lord turned around and grinned wickedly. “Not yet.” He then switched off the chamber light and shut the door behind, leaving Harry once again in darkness.

*****

As a child, Draco had been frightened--he just could never admit it. It was just not typical Malfoy behaviour. His only moment of weakness had been confessing his anxieties to Moaning Myrtle in his sixth year and to be honest, no one would have believed if she had told.

However, no fear he had encountered had ever left him physically shaking. His sore muscles were trembling, as he tried to assure himself that it was because he was naked in his cold cell as well as after his ordeal with Fenrir. The werewolf had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water over him to get rid of the retched stench of blood and urine. He knew that there was no hiding the truth though--he was afraid that Greyback was going to comeback to inflict more damage.

His ordeal had lasted for several hours after his father had left the cell. Greyback had damaged his body, had raped him continuously and, at the last, he had urinated on him before throwing the water over him. After which he had left the room, possibly to go to play with his little bitch, Lupin. Voldemort had sat in the darkness for a while before leaving the cell in silence.

He curled up on the worn-out mattress, taking care not to inflict more pain to his fragile body. There was no place on him that Greyback had not inflicted pain and he could feel the wounds throbbing everywhere but nothing could amount to the pain he felt as he had watched his father leave the room. He knew he had to be punished for failing in his task and he had expected his father to be involved. But to discard his son completely, there was something unsettling about that. Lucius had never slapped Draco in the face before and to stand there in silence as a sadistic monster had raped him, it was not like his father at all.

Not that he had ever been punished by his father before. Whenever Draco had been naughty as a boy, Lucius would put the boy over his knees and spank his pale arse, telling that he loved his little dragon but that he must learn his lesson. Draco remembered how it had all changed:

As Lucius spanked him in front of Narcissa, the older Malfoy had been compelled to stroke the soft skin of his son’s backside rather than spank it until it was red raw. He gave into the temptation, gliding his hand down the soft buttocks and behind the back of his legs. A bulge began to form in Lucius’ trousers, pressing onto Draco’s chest.

Lucius whispered. “Stand up son.”

Draco obeyed and stood up between Lucius’ legs, his bare back pressing against his father’s body. The young boy heard his father unzip his trousers and he felt something hard press against his bottom cheeks. Lucius touched his son’s limp penis with his fingertips and a moan escaped the boy’s lips. He felt his penis grow and harden under his father’s touch and he came very quickly. He felt something hot and sticky splash onto his buttocks followed by a moan from his father. A second moan filled the room and both the Malfoy men saw Narcissa sitting with her legs spread apart Her dress was lifted up to the waist and her hand was tucked into her wet knickers.

It had all started from there. From that moment, Draco had slept in his parents’ bed and his parents spent many hours teaching their innocent son how to give and receive sexual pleasure. Within a year, it became natural for Draco to have sex with his father as his mother watched as well as to have Lucius watch Draco pleasuring Narcissa. He would even watch his parents making love as he masturbated.

Draco remembered that his mother took it very hard when Lucius had been sent to Azkaban. Draco had tried to take his father’s place in life as well as in the bedroom but sometimes, she needed more; she needed her husband. Polyjuice potion was the only way to give her what she wanted and Draco would make love to her after drinking the potion, knowing that he was making his mother happy by posing as Lucius.

The last time though, Draco had been himself. He had entered Narcissa from behind as they lay on their sides. She held a photo of Lucius in her hand and as they had sex, they stared at the photo, longing for him. Draco had been slow and caring, just like a husband to his wife and when he came inside her, he did not pull out. He held onto her and they kept staring at the photo.

She broke the silence. “Until we’re whole again.” Her voice was quivering as if she had been crying silently throughout the whole session.

And now Draco knew that the family would never be whole again. If his father had disowned him, then his mother would as well. In that moment, he pined, not just for his father but for Snape who had died protecting him. He let the forbidden tears fall down his face as he thought of Snape. He had always admired his teacher but after failing in his task, he felt utmost respect for him. Throughout the last year, Snape had protected him and Draco had seen him in a different light. It was as if his mentor treated him like a surrogate son. But now, Snape had died in the final battle and he was alone again.

As he cried, Draco heard the door open. He looked up and he saw a bulking silhouette in the doorway. Draco’s stomach clenched up as he recognised the intruder immediately.

“Now,” Greyback said with glee, “what am I going to do to you today?”

*****

Lucius Malfoy held the piece of parchment in his hand as he headed towards Voldemort’s private chambers. He had been summoned by another Death Eater, possibly to inflict more torture on Harry Potter. He had done it numerous times over the last few weeks and although he wanted to be responsible of the boy’s eventual demise, the parchment he had received by owl had changed everything.

He knocked on the door and Voldemort answered, “Enter.”

He opened the door and could see the Dark Lord lying on his bed, holding the very familiar chain in his hand. Harry was attached to it by the torturous collar around his neck. He was kneeling on the bed like a dog to his master, a look of sadness and fear on his face. The sight never failed to amuse Lucius.

“You called for me, my Lord.”

“Yes,” Voldemort answered, stroking Harry’s ruffled hair, “My pet is being disobedient today and I feel that he needs some more discipline.” Harry flinched at the word ‘discipline’. “Now, now whore, you have been very flippant.”

“I would love to,” a sneer appeared on Lucius’ face, “but I have received a letter from Narcissa. She wants me to come home. Now that the War is over and you have triumphed, I believe there is no need for me here.”

“If that is your choice, Lucius and I’m sure one more time with Harry here would be a reasonable leaving present.”

“Yes, it would.”

Voldemort got off the bed, yanking on the chain. “Come along, pet. Let’s go.” Harry shook his head and the Dark Lord pulled it harder. “Come on.”

When Harry still refused, Voldemort called out, “Suffoco!” Harry immediately reached up for the collar and struggled to keep his breath. Seconds later, Voldemort said, “Efflo” and Harry’s torture subsided. When he had recovered, Harry moved off the bed and knelt by Voldemort’s feet. “Good little pet. Now come.”

Voldemort and Lucius walked down the corridor with Harry crawling behind. They went down the long staircase until they reached the row of dungeons that could have been situated underground for all Lucius knew.

“Why are we here, my Lord?”

“I thought you would like to share him.” Voldemort smirked. “Greyback loves dark and damp places.” Harry crawled backwards, whimpering in fear, until he was stopped by the chain, which made the Dark Lord chuckle. “Oh, little Harry. You never learn, do you?”

They walked down the cold corridor until they reached the cell at the far end of the corridor and stopped outside the door. Voldemort opened it and Lucius could see a body lying on his stomach in the dimmest corner of the cell.

“What is that body doing there?” Lucius asked in disgust.

“Ah, that must be Greyback’s last victim. You know how excited he can get.”

“Yes.” Lucius chuckled--he had seen before how the werewolf played with his victims. “Was it one of Potter’s friends?”

“Why don’t you go and see for yourself?”

Lucius walked towards the corpse. It had been mutilated to the point that it was barely recognisable. He suddenly saw a hint of blonde amongst the blood that matted the entire body. With one hand, Lucius turned the body over and recognised immediately.

“Draco?” Lucius whispered. “Son?”

Suddenly, he heard the door slam shut behind him. He spun around to see the Dark Lord smiling in what little light there was in the cell. What was more shocking was that Harry was no longer kneeling but now was standing by Voldemort who now had his arm wrapped the young man’s scarred torso.

“What in the hell…?”

Voldemort interrupted Lucius and pointed his wand at the blonde. “Crucio!”

Lucius immediately collapsed in pain over his son’s body. As he writhed in pain, he watched Voldemort and Harry walk deliberately slow towards Lucius.

“What the…”

Voldemort stroked Harry’s hair and face. “Lucius, I would like you to meet my new protégé. Here, Harry.” He passed his wand to the young man. “Do me proud.”

Immediately, Harry aimed the wand at Lucius and said in an unusually composed voice. “Avada Kedavra!”

A jet of green light hit Lucius in the chest and he was instantly dead. Voldemort smiled at the sight of what Harry had just done.

If he had his way, Voldemort would have killed Harry as soon as he had him in his grasps but he realised during the final battle that he could not kill the young Wizard. All those years ago, when he had tried to kill Harry as a baby, he had accidentally transported part of his soul into him, inadvertently turning Harry into a living Horcrux. And with the other Horcruxes destroyed, he needed to keep the boy alive so he could remain immortal. To kill him would have meant he would become mortal and therefore could be destroyed by any Wizard who could match him; so to kill the boy would have meant suicide. Of course, Harry would be immortal as well and what could be better, in Voldemort’s mind, than to make the body his equal:to break his spirit, to crush him into a pathetic whimpering helpless shell and then influence his soul that was entombed in Harry to make him his own.

It had taken longer than Voldemort had expected. The boy had shown a stubborn and fighting spirit; but torture can break the strongest person and Harry was no exception. The many weeks of humiliation, the Cruciatus curse as well as the constant rape from other Death Eaters, especially Bellatrix and Greyback, amongst other things, had taken their toll.

As for the Malfoys, they had to be punished for their failures: Lucius for the incident in the Ministry and Draco for failing to kill Dumbledore. The look on Draco’s face when Lucius had slapped him was priceless and the thought always made Voldemort smiled. Of course, it was not Lucius, thanks to a dose of Polyjuice potion but Draco did not have to know that. All he had to see that his father had disowned him and had left him to the wolves, literally.

No matter how much pleasure he had found is seeing Draco cry and plead as he was being treated like a piece of meat, it was nothing compared to seeing Harry being tortured by Lucius under false pretences. As for sending his arousal into Harry, turning him into a wanton whore, it had been delicious to watch.

And now, the boy was his, forever, with no resistance in him. When the boy had no more soul in him, he began to nurture the boy with lies, mind tricks and filling him up nothing but love for the Dark Arts, sex and most of all, for Voldemort. He had been right: Harry had potential to become a powerful Dark Wizard on the same level as him. Despite that Voldemort made Harry his equal; he found delight in hearing Harry address him as “My Lord” as if he was his follower. Yes, this was much more satisfying than simply killing him.

Voldemort placed both hands on his protégé’s shoulders. “You have done well, Harry.”

Harry whispered. “Yes, my Lord.”

Voldemort touched the front of Harry’s torso, making his protégé moan. The fact that he had been naked, as Voldemort’s pet, had been an act for Lucius. Now Harry had turned, he wore the typical Death Eater robes; although he was always naked beneath them. Voldemort did the same as they both preferred it that way. Nowadays, anything could arouse Harry and Voldemort liked to take advantage. He could feel it now coursing through Harry.

The Dark Lord touched Harry’s bare skin, moving downwards until he was holding onto his hardening penis. He squeezed and rubbed it until it was fully erect. Harry arched into Voldemort, moaning in ecstasy.

Voldemort licked Harry’s cheek. “Would you like me to fuck you as you stand over them? Would you like to come over their corpses?”

Harry nodded eagerly, hissing. “Yesss!”

Voldemort spun the young man around and tore off his own robes, discarding them on the floor. He pulled Harry closer towards him and they kissed with open mouths, their tongues playing with each other.

“Turn around, Harry and put your hands on the wall.”

Harry obeyed immediately and bent over so Voldemort could have better access to his backside. Voldemort kicked Harry’s legs further apart and without warning, entered him in one long thrust. There was no need for lubrication, as Harry was used to the pain of dry cock entering his tight anus. In fact, he indulged in it, because the pain now gave him indescribable pleasure.

The Dark Lord thrust hard into his protégé, going faster and harder with every movement, the pair hissing with passion and need. He took hold of the chain and called out “Suffoco!” The collar tightened once again but this time, Harry did not fight it. In fact, he indulged in the fact that he was choking to death. The collar was no more used as a torture device but now as a toy to stimulate Harry. When they were having sex, Harry would ask for the collar just in case Voldemort felt the urge.

All too soon, Voldemort felt the need to come. He pulled on Harry, yanking him backwards so he was arched into Voldemort. He threw his arms backwards, baring his fresh Death Mark. Voldemort whispered, “Efflo” and Harry’s gasps for breath turned into aroused moans.

The Dark Lord looked down and saw that Harry was now aching and pre-cum was leaking from his erection. He grabbed Harry’s hot cock and rubbed it hard. The young man pulled his head back so that Voldemort could cover his mouth in another deep, hot kiss. Voldemort came inside Harry and his moan inside Harry’s mouth brought the younger man his release. He broke the kiss and watched as Voldemort continued to jerk his still hard cock, spilling the long white ropes of seed on Lucius. All their muscles shuddered in passion but they were able to keep standing. At the last, the Dark Lord licked Harry’s Death Mark. When they had calmed down from their orgasms, Voldemort pulled out of Harry and he went to pull on his robe, walking slowly towards his protégé.

“You learn very quickly, Harry.” Voldemort whispered. “We were going to have some fun together.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Harry agreed.

“Let’s go back to our chambers,” Voldemort said seductively, stroking a long finger down Harry’s cheek, “I’ve been neglecting Nagini recently and I would like to introduce you to her. I think she will like you.”

Harry nodded. “I would like to meet her.”

“Good. She has an excellent tongue which can be used for indescribable pleasure but before we go,” Voldemort took hold of the collar, “it’s time we got rid of this.”

“But my Lord, it’s so stimulating.”

“I know you enjoy it but I think I would prefer to use my hands to strangle you. I used this collar on you because you were mine to control. But, by killing Lucius, you are no longer my pet. You have become my equal completely and have no need for this.”

He removed the collar and let it fall down to the ground. The pair kissed once again and Harry could feel Voldemort’s bony hands trailing down his spine before resting on his arse cheeks, spreading them apart. A stream of blood and hot sperm trailed down his leg and Harry liked it. He closed his eyes and visualised himself in bondage, helpless to move as Nagini licked the mess from his anus whilst stimulating his cock as he writhed helplessly, trying to touch himself.

Voldemort smiled as the sight of his Harry smiling in ecstasy. He could see Harry’s dirty fantasy and it aroused him that the young man who was once destined to kill him was now a corrupt whore in body, mind and soul.

“Come, my Harry.” Voldemort moaned.

Harry nodded eagerly, feeling another erection growing inside him. Without saying a word, they left the room, not caring about the dead bodies that they were leaving behind.

End