Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Bound and Gagged	By : SomethingElse Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 79942 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 12
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
AN: I think I hear a rant coming on. Oh, no. Here it is:
Unneeded: I believe that is just a bit of the fanfiction details that have come to be thought of as canon. There is no proof that the Prince family is any sort of pure-blood line of rank. Yes, it’s pure, but not necessarily a lordship line. There’s a lot of this going around, and I’ll point some of it out.
First: there is no where I can find that JK has listed Snape as Draco’s godfather. (fiction)
Second: based on the research we have done, Charlus Potter could not be James’ father.(fact)
Third: very few of the families in the story have been listed as being lordship lines, so most are probably not. It is just something that many fanfiction writers do to make their stories interesting and not based on the background of the books. I think that only the lines that have property, such as Malfoy Manor or Grimmauld Place, are likely to be of that sort.
Fourth: Draco is not over six feet tall.(fiction)
Fifth: Most people living in the UK are not blessed with “sun-kissed skin”. There is very little sun to kiss their skin, so most of them are at least a little pale. It’s a bit annoying when writers are so keen to write that description that they ignore the climate that the story takes place in.
I chose to write my fictions based on as many facts as I can gather, and if I have to deviate, I always try to make a note of it, so no one takes my information as facts, and then urban-legends them into canon.(fact)
End of rant. Nothing personal, just some things that I’ve been bitching about for a while. Write what makes you happy, but I'll still cringe whenever these things come up. I'll still read, cause I like the stories, just sayin'.
And to make up for that, I've got a long chappie.
jujukitty: Hope you haven't lost hope for me. I'll get these done, somehow.
Calmzone1: You were right. I had meant that to be Winky. It's fixed now. Thanks for the help. Some mistakes are slippery and get through. I do try to double check and edit, but that one was as oily as they come.
Chapter Ten: Harry’s Dream
Harry walked the deserted cave, careful not to touch the walls, and made his way to the dark lake in its belly. He attempted to stare across the blackness, focusing on the tiny island at its center. Here the Dark Lord had hidden a locket that encased a severed piece of his soul. But, when Harry and the headmaster had come, the locket they retrieved, at great personal hardship, was a phony.
Now, the boy-who-lived was searching for something else. It was not a horcrux he desired in this un-holy place. He was searching for something he had lost, part of his own soul.
There was a mist, rolling over the dark waters of the underground lake and Harry couldn't see the boat that was supposed to take him across. The chain was pulled taut, lending credence to the thought that it was already on the island. He pulled, hoping it would come easily, but it fought him the entire time.
When the bow of the boat finally cut through the thick curtain of fog, it was covered in slime so completely it looked like a wet green cloud, floating on the surface.
Harry reluctantly climbed in, dipping the slick oar into the water and rowing across the water. It was hard work, and by the time he was halfway, he was covered in sweat. The boat stopped short, sending him careening into the bow, and no amount of rowing could make it move, though it still pitched from side to side.
When he gave up trying to row, Harry looked over the side of the boat, into the murky water, and found himself face-to-face with his eleven-year-old self. The boy regarded him with unblinking eyes, waiting for Harry to do something. The problem was, he didn't know what he was supposed to do.
“What do you want?” he shouted and the boy tilted his head and blinked, only once. “Tell me what to do!”
The boy reached out a hand, just below the water's surface, and continued to watch Harry. The fingers curled in summons, and Harry drew back, afraid of what would happen if he entered the lake water. The fingers were the only thing that moved and Harry shook his head. The boy blinked again and Harry found himself under the water, the boat having over turned and plunged him into the lake. The boy-Harry was now above the surface, sitting on the overturned boat and watching him as he struggled for air and flailed.
“Give it back to me.” the boy said and Harry shook his head, unable to speak without swallowing a mouthful of lake water. “Give me back my innocence. You took it from me. You couldn't just let me be, you had to get into trouble, to go where you were told not to go, to try solving adult problems. You never let me be a boy.”
Harry's hand found the edge of the boat and he pulled himself out of the water. Sitting next to the boy, he drew deep lungfuls of air, his hair dripping with heavy drops. “I don't know how.” he whispered. “I've never had that.”
“You are the only one who can do it.” the boy said touching his hand and making Harry look at him. “If you can't, I'll die all alone.”
“What?” Harry said, but he was no longer in the cave and the boy was gone. He was standing on a lonely shore, looking at the ocean. Here the waves lapped at the sand, but never reached his feet. He walked toward the water, but it ran away, receding as fast as he moved forward, never letting him reach it. He knew it was important to get to the water, but even when he started running, he could never reach it.
Laughter rose over the sound of the waves, laughter that came from several voices, all familiar to him. The laughter was his family, the Dursleys, and the reporters who had called him a liar, said he was an attention seeker, had reported about his deranged condition after the death of his godfather, the death that was his fault.
The laughter was joined by all the same voices shouting the things that had been said about him. The negative comments, the headlines, the jokes at his expense, the taunts, all came to him, overcoming him and slowing his feet. The waves pulled further from him until he was standing on the top of a cliff, staring down at the coast.
He turned around, finding himself in the middle of a graveyard, staring at rows of gravestones that gleamed in the afternoon sun. He closed his eyes, afraid to read the names that beckoned him, that blamed him for their deaths, because he had only been a baby, so couldn't save them in time. He knew his parents were there, as well as many he had never met.
The silence, cut only by the low howl of the wind, accused him as much as a room full of voices. And it was that silence that Harry feared the most. The silence of being alone and abandoned.
He woke in a cold sweat.
“I don't want to be alone.” he whispered and the moon's glow through his window surrounded him and seemed to take away his fear. He slept the remainder of the night in peace.
Draco stood by the sink, his hand filled with empty plates and cups. The elf glared at him, and he returned it easily, as he tried to put the dishes into the soapy water.
“Wizards be not doing chores.” Kreacher announced.
“I'm a servant, now. Besides, as a houself, you are supposed to let your masters do what they want. How dare you hinder me?”
Kreacher seemed about to yank his own ears in frustration. He knew his chores, though he had spent years ignoring them, and he knew that the masters were to let the elves do the work. He also knew that he was not to disobey, but these wizards had become slaves, so did he have to obey them, too?
“Kreacher.” Harry called from the door. “Let Draco do his dishes, if he wants. You should go make the beds.”
Now that he had a chore to do, Kreacher blinked out and Draco rolled his eyes and put his plates into the water. “Thank you, Master.” he said, but his back was turned so he didn't see Harry wince. “Are we going to study this morning?”
“For a bit. I thought you could help me with some arithmancy. I didn't take the courses, but I've been reading the textbooks and I've got some questions.”
Draco turned, his soapy hands dripping onto the kitchen floor, as he stared at the other boy. “I could help you, of course. What made you start reading those?”

“A project I was working on. They helped and I realized that there are aspects to lots of things that knowledge of arithmancy and runes would have helped with, so I'm doing some extra studying. The headmistress said I can take the OWL's for them, before the NEWT testing, if I think I'm ready. It won't be much, but every grade I get will stay with me from then on.”
“Admirable, . . . Harry.” Draco frowned and looked at the floor. “The potion makes it hard for me, in some ways. The potion forces me to follow your orders, like calling you by name, but it also makes me feel like I should address my master with respect and title.”
“I can see how that would be a challenge.”
“If I could call you Master Harry, it might help. At least, for a while.”
“No. If you get in the habit, it will be harder to break later. Keep working on it.” Harry had just finished his breakfast, just some toast and jam, and he smirked as he pointed to his plates. “Since you're so into dishes, you can do mine. When you've finished, I'll be in the library.” and he left the blond to his job.
Lucius had eaten early, cleaned his dishes and made his way down to the cellars. He had finished clearing away the junk in two of the small rooms and was sweeping out the dust before he went to get the wash water. This house had been equipped with a full dungeon and the family had kept prisoners, probably muggles, in these tiny cells. He shivered when he thought about what it must have been like, being caged in a tiny room, tortured and starved, and cursed when his body reacted in an unacceptable way.
A door slammed shut and he looked up to find Harry watching him.
“Having fun, Lucius?”
“No. . . Master.” the blond rhasped out around a lump that was forming, as his mind supplied more images of what could happen inside these walls. The star of his fantasy was watching from the door. “I've almost cleared the dungeon.” he said.
Harry's eyebrow rose at the title the man gave to his cellar, then he looked around him and realized what the room resembled. “Yes, you've done a good job, Lucius. Tell me what you think of my . . . . dungeons.”
“It is a very efficient place. In its time, the Black family home was notorious for its use and effectiveness is breaking those imprisoned here.” Lucius wasn't sure what made him speak, though it was probably Harry's direct orders.
“When you have this place spotless, I'll be in the library, with Draco. Meet me there.” Harry chuckled as he turned and left the room. He had some plans to make.
Before going to the library, he stopped in his playroom, chose a few special pieces and put them near the door. Meanwhile, Lucius was recovering from the visit, sweeping away the dirt before bringing his bucket down and kneeling to clean, all of which he did around a sizable bulge in his trousers.
The two young men were working on some charms spells, when Lucius arrived at the library door. He was sweaty, covered with filth and his hair hung limp and dull over his shoulders. Harry frowned but didn't comment on it. He waited and Lucius finally spoke.
“The cellars are clean.” he said.
“Spotless?”
Lucius nodded, but didn't speak, so Harry ignored it. The silence was uncomfortable and Draco shifted nervously. Finally, Lucius ground his teeth together and grit out. “Yes, Master. The cellars are spotless.”
“Good. Draco, you should take the runes book to your room, study there for a couple of hours, then write a letter to your mother. I know she would like to hear from you.” Harry instructed, then rose and walked past the other man, snatching Lucius' arm and pulling him along.
“Kreacher!” he called as they descended. The elf popped in and Harry stopped. “There is a stack of things I need in the playroom. Bring them to the cellar for me.” when Kreacher disappeared, Harry resumed his trip, this time letting the man follow on his own.
“Have you another chore for me, Master?” Lucius asked and Harry turned his head. The smile he wore did not bode well and Lucius couldn't hold in his gasp.
“Oh, yes. I have an important task for you, Lucius. Come.” and he continued on to the lowest levels of the house. Upon arrival, Lucius sighed, since he had just left the cellars not ten minutes before. “This is good. You did good. Now, help me set these things up.” Harry ordered and the blond man moved mechanically to do so.
First, they moved the boxes from on top of a wooden table and shoved it over to the corner. Then, when Harry was satisfied with its placement, they opened boxes and emptied their contents, placing things where Harry felt they would belong.
It took less than an hour to completely transform the cellar into the dungeon Lucius had named it. There were manacles dangling from the walls, a cage in one corner, attached to a sturdy chain that would suspend it from the ceiling when pulled taunt. The cells had been equipped with some devices that had no obvious purpose, and Lucius did not want to ask about them. A few boxes Harry had told him to leave be, and put aside for his own uses. Looking around sent shivers up the blond's spine.
“Now, take off those filthy clothes. We have important work to do.” Harry said, adjusting the restraints on the wooden table that they had first moved.
When Lucius was naked, Harry directed him to climb up on the table and began to strap him onto it. His arms were held above his head, tied together and hooked onto a bar that shot up toward the ceiling. His legs were parted, strapped at the knees and ankles to the sides of the table, in a very uncomfortable position if he had to remain this way for long. He lay face down, his head turned to the side and his feet aimed to the sides.
“How do you feel?” Harry asked and he rolled his eyes. “I want to ask you about muggles. Tell me about someone that you tortured. The worst case you can remember.”
Lucius expected that this was going to be worse than the other punishments, so he stretched his mind to the worst act he remembered committing. “There was a family of muggles, they had a son who was due to receive his letter from Hogwarts the next year. We captured them and took them to a place where there were wards to keep our activities private. The Lestranges, Crabbe, Goyle and I forced the man to, under imperius, beat his wife to death while his son watched, then rape the boy over and over. Later, the others took the boy, while Crabbe and I abused the man. He couldn't fight, so we were brutal, and he bled to death from the wounds. His son never came to the school.”
“What happened to the boy? Do you know?” Harry had to ask.
“He spent the next few years in a muggle hospital and went into foster care. Before the man died, we forced him to write a suicide note, explaining what he had done to his wife and son, and why. It was our words, but in his hand. The boy only knew that he had watched what his father done, that his father had handed him over to the other men and that he had died.” Lucius took a deep breath before he continued. “When they finished with the boy, he had swallowed load after load of their spunk, and his arse was taken many times. He was bloated from the amount of it and Rodolphus forced a plug into him, so that he couldn't expel it. He still had the plug in, two days after we left, when the authorities found them.”
Harry had turned his back, breathing heavy to control his emotions. It had to be so, or his punishment would be out of anger, not to cleanse. Snape had warned him that this could happen and that he had to avoid letting it overcome him. He closed his eyes, drew himself up and clenched his hands into fists. Before he turned around, Lucius spoke again.
“I put a stone up on their graves. I never told anyone that. I was sixteen. My father said I had become a real man, but I didn't feel like one. He arranged my marriage that month.”
Harry turned to see tears sliding down the man's face and the anger subsided. He crossed the room and put a hand on the man's face. “I'll take it away, now.”
Lucius opened his eyes and bit his lip, the tears flowed faster and he nodded. “Thank you, Master.”
The letter that Draco wrote was short and to the point. He told his mother that he was well, had been gifted to Potter by the Dark Lord and that the war was over. He didn't know how to tell her that he had gone willingly, what he had experienced under the control of the potion, or that he wanted it to continue. How did one tell their mother that they had come to desire the abuse doled out by their oldest enemy? Especially, when some of that desire had taken on a sexual nature.
Draco still thought his parents expected him to marry a pure-blood witch and bear an heir to his family line. The longer he stayed with Potter, the less likely he was of that possibility. How could he be with a woman, any woman, after the things he had discovered about himself while Potter played with him, while strapped onto a torture device and toyed with, only to climax when subjected to pain and humiliation that should have repulsed him.
He decided to leave those things out of his letter and told his mother that he and Harry were working out their rivalry and trying to be more like friends. Soften the blow, he thought as he signed the note and put it into an envelope.
Harry hadn't told him where the owls were, so he put the letter on the dresser in his room and sat on his bed. He didn't know how long Harry and his father would be, so he looked around the room and tried to come up with something to relieve his boredom.
Lucius was pinned to the table, unable to move even an inch. His legs still strapped to the sides, his arms now strapped at the elbows, as well. His torso was strapped, too, in two places. His cock was worked into a semi-hard state before Harry pushed it into a hole in the table's surface, just large enough to accommodate, then he climbed under and tied something around it from the other side of the hole. His balls were put into a ball crusher that was only tightened until it was snug.
“Open your mouth.” Harry instructed as he pushed something through another hole near Lucius' face. The thing looked like a rubber door knob, and when he did as he was told, it was shoved into his mouth, filling him and stretching his lips until he wondered how it had passed through them. It expanded and held his jaw so wide it hurt.
Harry stood and looked him over, adjusting straps and checking their tension. He went to a bag that resembled a muggle doctors, and pulled out two potion vials. One he poured into a long plastic syringe the other he inserted into the end of a length of tubing. “When I tell you to, you will swallow every drop of this.” Harry instructed and Lucius wondered how he would manage around the gag.
Just as he had that last thought, Harry stretched the tube out and pushed it into the base of the gag, right next to the blond's lips. He inverted the bottle and began to squeeze. “Swallow it, now. Don't stop until it is empty.” And the boy hooked the bottle to a chain that dangled from the ceiling. While Lucius downed the potion, Harry took the syringe and went to the other end of the table. There, he inserted it into his anus and forced it as deeply as it would go. The man could feel it breeching his inner bowels, moving up into his intestines without mercy.
He would have screamed, had his mouth not been filled and his throat busy constricting around the ever-flowing potion Harry wanted him to drink.
Whatever the first potion was, it finally stopped flowing when Harry had begun to push the other into his body with the syringe. He could feel it filling his bowels and the cramps began within minutes. By the time Harry was finished, it was all Lucius could do to keep from squirming within the tiny give of his bonds.
Harry put away the syringe and took out another bottle which he traded for the first.
“Now, this will come slower, and only in spurts. Can you feel the first potion?”
Lucius thought about that, and even then he could feel his belly swelling from the contents. It expanded inside of him, hardening his stomach and pushing against the surface of the table. At the same time, his cramps got worse, when the other potion thickened and expanded, though not as much as the first. He nodded as much as possible, realizing Harry was waiting for his response.
“Good. Now, we play.” Harry took out a whip, just a handle about a foot long, with a special wand installed in it, that had seven leather lashes attached to the end. He rubbed his hand gently over Lucius' buttocks, before he began the whipping, spreading the lashes from his shoulder to his thighs, but concentrating on the soft globes of the blond man's arse.
Draco was succumbing to his boredom, especially since he had read the entire runes book and organized his few possessions four time. He was wandering around the room, picking up this and that, only to put them down again, uninterested in what entertainment they might offer.
“What would Harry be doing with me if he was here?” he asked himself, leaning against his desk and looking at the floor. His Slytherin tie was sticking out from under the bed, so he picked it up and ran it through his palm as he stared at the pillow. “I can think of a few things he could be doing 'to' me, if he were here.”
He turned and looked around him, spying a few more things that sparked his fantasies. He gathered up a couple of things, a belt, his robe clips, some ribbons that his mother had given him when he decided to let his hair grow out. He piled them on the bed, tossing the pillows onto the desk chair.
Lucius moaned around the gag as his master pushed another of the anal beads into his arse, wondering how long the string was. The gag was animated, but it remained dormant for now. A bit ago, it was growing longer, thrusting down his throat and nearly choking him. The tears had now dried that were running from his eyes as he was face fucked by the damn magic penis gag, but the relief was short lived as that was when Harry decided to start shoving beads the size of ping-pong balls into his abused arse.
Every time he stopped, he would add a few more lashes to the man's back, buttocks and thighs, teasing the slave about the lovely color of pink that his body took on. That color would rise to his cheeks, and there would be more teasing.
Harry paused, tapping the latest bead, that sat just inside of the ring of muscles, not wanting to complete its journey, and the gag set into motion again. Lucius did choke, just a bit, but the toy didn't care. The end of the rubber dick would push into his throat, just deep enough to stretch the muscles and then retreat, only to return faster and harder the next second. Harry ignored it, for the most part, still struggling to force that damn bead into the recesses of the blond's anus. Finally, he climbed up on the table, pushed the two cheeks apart and shoved his knee into the ring of muscles, stretching them and making them obey. The bead found itself on the other side of the restriction at the exact second that the gag shoved in the farthest it had ever gone.
“Nnnngghhh!” the man gurgled and Harry leaned over to look at his face. Lucius could see the smile that graced his master's feature and cringed.
“Having fun, yet?” Harry said. The table jerked a few times as Harry shifted around, doing Lucius did not know what, and then the whip came back. After the second stroke of the series, the gag pulled back into itself, pulsed once then shot forward, ramming into his throat and filling his esophagus with a gush of the third potion.
Draco was stripped naked, stretched out on is bed where he had bound himself with his four of his ties and had snapped his cloak clips to his nipples and hooked them together with a length of ribbon that pulled them tightly toward each other. He had wrapped his belt around his penis until he could buckle it behind his balls tightly enough to keep him from premature release. A pair of his briefs were rolled up and shoved into his mouth, tied in place with a pair of his socks, end to end and wrapped around his head. He had found an old personal scroll case, thick enough to emulate a dildo, and forced it into his arse, just deep enough to brush his prostate when he shifted some. It was also belted in with his balls, and that held it away, keeping those brushes fleeting and out of reach.
It was his mind that drove him toward any hope of completion. His fantasies were the force that filled his cock and tightened his balls. He shifted around, struggling for anything that would help, that would cause the kind of sensation he needed. Each shift pulled the belt tighter, or yanked on his nipples, and the wad of fabric made him gag, but he couldn't stop. He needed this.
Lucius was choking again, as the gag thrust into him, shooting more of its liquid into is already bloated belly, but now he was assaulted by another force. The lashings had stopped when his skin was bright red and burning, and now Master lay on top of him, his body rubbing the sensitive flesh with each move.
Harry's cock was shoved deep, right in with the beads, the potion and a generous amount of lubrication that radiated heat all the way up the blond's back and out to his feet. He set a punishing pace, thrusting hard and fast, punctuating his words with an occasional slap of his hand on thigh or buttocks.
“Remember a little boy. He suffered worse cause he didn't know what was happening. Don't forget what you did. Don't make excuses. Don't try to hide it. You raped him, didn't you? It wasn't just the others. You were there. You shoved your dirty cock into that innocent hole. You fucked him and you got off. Didn't you, slave?”
Lucius wanted to deny it. He wanted to scream.
But, that would be a lie.
He had taken his turn. Only once, but that was no excuse.
Tears of regret rolled down his face as his master fucked him raw and he didn't try to stop them.
“But, you're never gonna do anything like that again, Lucius. Never. I'm going to save you from it.” Harry slowed down, reaching for the exposed beads and drawing them out slowly as he continued to thrust in and out of the man's ass. “You can let it go. Let it go.”
Lucius felt the tear flow faster as the words hit his brain. He could let loose the pain and guilt he had felt ever since that day. If that were true, he could regain some of that lost innocence for himself. If he could only hope.
“Let it go, Lucius. Let it go and . . . come for me.” Harry ordered as the last bead popped free and he shot a load of his own into the man.
Lucius couldn't stop it if he wanted, since it had been an order, but the release was like a crashing wave, cleansing and shocking. He rode if for all it was worth, only coming down from the heights when he felt the weight of his master fall onto his back.
Draco strained against his self imposed bonds, jerking and twitching as his body forced a jet of cum through his imprisoned cock and onto his stretched nipples. He blinked away the tears that filled his eyes and relaxed, boneless in his bonds as his body released of tension drifted off in the aftermath of his orgasm.
He vaguely realized he was going to have to figure out how to get himself free, now that he had managed to climax.
- 9
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Bound and Gagged