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Harco Empire	By : Toddy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 34430 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or films. I do not make any money from the writing of this story, just enjoyment.

Chapter List
- 101
- 102
- 103
[Note: conversation =: “speech” & ‘thoughts’ & *telepathy* & #Parseltongue# & {telephone}]
(Multiple penile torture and gay rape)
~~~ VOLCANOS ~~~
When told to jump Draco pushed off. His forward motion created a similar backward motion on the boat and it drifted away from the landing.
For a moment there was nothing but cold dark green sea beneath Draco.
Then his foot landed on the ledge.
It was slippery and he lost his footing.
Luckily his impetus carried him away from the water’s edge and he slid ignominiously on his front in the green seaweed.
He stopped, mainly because the floor sloped upwards slightly and the seaweed lessened.
By the time he was standing upright neither Siobhan nor the boat could be seen. Draco’s trousers were soaked and covered in green slime. ‘Bugger! Once I can see properly I’ll remove them and set a cleaning charm.’ Draco considered a Lumos ball, but felt there was enough green light filtering down to see where he was going.
He was at the bottom of a wide shaft, down the centre of which the stream poured. Around the edge was a set of open spiral steps lit by the sparkles within the waterfall. Draco was enchanted by the beauty as well as the practicality of the idea. About three circuits had him walking out through an ancient door-opening into a verdant corrie; meaning to explore the remaining upwards flight later he entered the green area in front of him. His eyes widened when he beheld the variety of plants growing. In his excitement he forgot all about his damp attire as he ran from exotic clump to uncommon bunch, from unusual fern to grotesque tree. He wondered if his stay could be longer and wished he had agreed with Siobhan’s suggestion that he stay overnight. His excitement abated somewhat and instead of trotting he strolled along the ancient pathways absorbed in green thoughts. It never occurred to him that the pathways were still passable and reasonably neat; which they should not have been from hundreds of year’s neglect.
After an hour or two Draco took out his notebook and began to catalogue what he saw; carefully harvesting leaves and seed where they grew in abundance. To begin with he did not notice the rustling noises as he moved from plant to plant, but soon they began to impinge on his consciousness. Within another hour he was sure someone or something was tracking him. To begin with he dismissed it as his overactive imagination, but then doubts began to undermine his assuredness.
Draco pointed his finger at some quivering bushes “Hominem Revelio!”
No one appeared. The Slyth shrugged and turned to the next plant.
Three plants later Draco thought he heard a low chuckle. He tried the revealing charm again. No one appeared.
There were a couple of more equivalent incidents and Draco was beginning to feel paranoid, so he tried some disabling hexes – still no result.
It was definitely a chuckle, it had an earthy sound to it, something that made Draco’s cock twitch.
“Okay I give up, stop playing with me.”
“I’m not playing with you … Yet.”
Draco jumped when the voice replied.
He wasn’t a trained combatant for nothing: “Incarcerous!”
“It won’t work – your thaums are inhibited. See if you can set fire to that pile of dead leaves over there.”
“Incendio!” – Nothing happened.
“See I told you … However, mine does … Exuero Te!”
All of Draco’s clothes disappeared and he recognised a spell that his father had used prior to thrashing his son’s bare buttocks whilst Draco was bent over a table.
Draco was not going to give in: “How dare you treat a guest like that?”
“Who said you were a guest. As far as I can see you’re a plant thief.”
“I’m no thief, as was given permission to be here.”
“Oh were you now. Who by? I’m the conservation warden here.” A burly gold-blond man came into sight around one of the bushes.
He was at least six and a half feet high, had broad shoulders and brawny arms. Draco reckoned he would have given Hagrid a good run for his money. What was more disturbing was that the being only wore a brief kilt. His chest was a mass of gold-red curls but in contrast his well-muscled legs were almost hairless. He had a voluminous ginger beard, curly hair and very piercing green eyes – the same shade as Harry’s.
“Who are you,” asked Draco, trying to look magisterial.
“Perhaps you don’t recognise me. Maybe if I was in a frame splayed out and blubbing you would. But then I was nearly ten years younger when we last met.”
Draco cast his mind back to his participation in Voldemort’s pernicious games at the Manor: “Oh no! Not you … The little Scots boy with the thin prick.”
“The very same, only it’s much longer now. Meet Rory McMurdoch’s implement.” So saying the Scotsman removed his kilt: “It wants its revenge.”
“So you’re a relation to Siobhan?”
“Yes; she’s my mother.”
“Oh Merlin. Is she going to help you?”
“Beyond giving you a thaum-inhibiting potion and ferrying you here – No! I reckon I’m man enough to deal with a little squirt like you.”
Draco was ready to run, so when Rory made a lunge for him, Draco took to his heels. Draco was a good runner but Rory’s long strides gave him an advantage. His other advantage was that he knew every pathway. The result was that when Draco took one path, Rory took a short-cut. Whilst escaping Draco took a quick glance behind himself to try to spot his pursuer and when he turned round his nose buried itself in a mass of red-gold curls. Those beefy arms hugged the sleek Slyth and lifted him off his feet.
“Now Chicken, will you behave or shall I have to be stern with you?”
Draco struggled and tried to use his fists. Rory caught his fists and held them in one of his meaty hands.
“It seems I have to be stern then.”
Rory knelt down on one knee, the other was bent, over which Rory dragged Draco.
“THWACK!” Rory’s other hand hit Draco’s pale bum hard, leaving a Scottish handprint in red. Draco huffed and struggled some more. Rory rearranged his prisoner and slapped the Slyth’s arse harder. That caused Draco to cry out. It also brought to mind one of the games that Harry and Draco would play prior to conjugation. As he struggled not to be draped over the broad knee again, Draco revealed his masochistic leanings.
Rory took a very obvious look at Draco’s swelling member: “Well, well, there’s no need to tell me what you like, I can see it. Instead of slapping a Slytherin behind he used his thumb and forefinger to flick the blond’s growing erection until it was well hard.
“Well now, Toy, I shall be playing with you, whether you like it or not. Are you going to let me?”
Draco’s heart fell; those were almost the identical words he had used on Rory when he was at the Manor a decade ago. Rory was defiant then – so was Draco now. Rory shrugged and, still holding two hands in his one fist, hoisted Draco across his broad shoulders. To steady his load Rory used his other hand to grip the blond’s pubic area; moving his fingers to keep the captive cock receptive. If Draco struggled too hard Rory would walk beneath a low branch and ensure that its leaves and twigs scraped the protruding glans. Once back at the entrance Draco was hefted up the remaining flight of steps
Above the entrance was a pool which fed the falling water via a spout. As it was on higher ground Draco had not seen it when he came in, transfixed as he was on the numerous special plants. By the pool was a small patch of lawn shaded by two trees. Next door to that was a bothy with its door open.
They did not enter the house; Draco was slammed hard onto the turf. Before he got his breath back, Rory had an ankle fettered to one tree and was collaring the other. When Draco started to struggle Rory grinned, pulled on the leg and clipped the fastening closed. Draco was now face down on the grass with is feet wide apart. There was a struggle as the blond tried to avoid the Scot capturing a wrist, but it was a losing fight. Only too soon was Draco hauled upright with both wrists attached to a rope over a branch above him. The first ankle was fastened fairly close to the tree’s bole but the other ankle had a rope leading to the further tree.
Rory stood before the helpless mage stroking Draco’s balls: “See these two capstans, they are what will give you comfort or not, as it pleases me. In order for me to be pleased you have to please me first.” Holding the magely accoutrements in one hand, Rory gripped a rotary handle: “This one is for your hands; if I wind it this way, it lifts you off your feet … like this.”
Draco now floated a foot off the ground quaking as his nuts were fondled. As he was allowed to gain the ground again, the Scot transferred his attention to another handle: “Now the other one is for your floating ankle; if I wind it like this it parts your legs further.”
Draco felt increasing tension between his splayed legs.
“I suppose it would eventually split you in half. I imagine you’ll be screaming the place down before that happens.”
Draco could stand the present tension in his splayed limbs, what worried him most was the fact that his pubic accoutrements were dangling unprotected.
“What are you going to do?”
“Why … The very same that you did to me … Do you remember …? No …? Then I’ll give you a short time to try, I have to go and collect some items from the house.
Draco hung there envisioning a room ten years ago and what had happened inside. When Rory arrived back Draco’s dong was dinging, and he was cringing mentally.
“Which one were you imagining?”
“The p-p-paddle.”
“Very well … THWACK … THWACK … THWACK … THWACK … THWACK!
“Ooh … ooh.”
The treatment continued until Rory could see dribble of precum exiting Draco’s glans-eye.
“What came next?”
“Th-th-the p-p-p-probe.”
“This one?”
“Yy-y-yes-s-s-s.”
Rory held Draco’s mushroom, squeezing it slightly. His other hand held a shiny metal probe a few millimetres thick with a small ball on its end. Draco shivered as the ball entered his urethra and his anal muscles clamped unconsciously. Rory manipulated the probe backwards and forwards.
“Ah-h-h-h-h!” Draco’s first emission of the day squeezed itself past the reciprocating ball. He began to droop.
“What did you do next?”
“P-p-p-p-painted it-t-t-t!”
Almost as soon as the potion touched his prick Draco was hard again.
“And then you used the brush on my end didn’t you?”
“Yes-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s!” Draco’s thigh muscles were twitching involuntarily and more pre-cum was emerging, Rory ignored this and continued the treatment concentrating on the area where the glans’ edges approached the meatus at his frenulum. This was especially receptive. Draco was gasping and struggling so Rory held the fleshy instrument steady in order that Draco could obtain the most benefit from the brush’s tickle. He wriggled and huffed, humped and shouted, gyrated and screamed, but Rory did not let up until Draco had had a third ejaculation and his prick was a highly sensitive dark shiny purple all over.
“Ready for the next bit?”
“N-n-n-no!”
“That’s what I said but did you take any notice?!”
“N-n-n-n-n-n-no!”
“What came next?”
“Th … th … the … t-t-t-t-t-t-tube … Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh!”
The tube was transparent and wide; it had flexible washers fixed every quarter of an inch. Each washer’s internal dimension was less than the circumference of Draco’s erection. As it was pushed over his prick the body behind it twitched violently because the sensitive glans was first stretched and then released each time. The washers then gripped the stem and squeezed it.
“I even have a wheel to operate it, look!”
Draco expected a steam machine, but Rory had made a small water wheel on a frame. It was fixed in front of the blond and the tube attached to an eccentric arm. Next a hose with running water appeared. Fitted to the frame it squirted onto the wheel which started to revolve slowly. In its turn the arm started to reciprocate; moving the tube at the same time and tightly caressing Draco’s cock. To begin with the mage managed to move in time with the tube, thus not exacerbating his problem. A bird flew by and drew his attention away. He was then out of sync and the tube wanked him hard. He regained his rhythm and something else disturbed his attention. So Draco closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping the rhythm. As soon as Rory saw what was happening, he slapped the bare bum, throwing the blond out of synch. Draco soon had another emission.
Because the tube was inclined upwards, extruded bodily juices tended to gather above the top washer, which became self-lubricating after a while; this heightened the participator’s lubricious feelings. The sliminess worked its way down the tube to the next washer which, instead of gripping started to slide having Draco mewling and twitching afresh. The Slyth just became used to that washer movement when the lubrication spread to the next one. Draco was able no longer to keep time with the wheel’s revolutions and his dimpling bum muscles made a very erotic show. Every half hour Rory would stop the wheel, pour a healing potion into the tube and re-start the mechanism. The potion would also reawaken Draco’s numbed nerve endings.
At tea-time Rory fed his victim both food and a potion, marvelling at the Slyth’s endurance and his production of spunk. Draco had no strength left to refuse the food. Some of the potion his mother had given Rory to administer also heightened Draco’s reproduction system as well as keeping him conscious and active.
What weren’t affected were Draco’s cognitive processes, or the mental anguish of continuous pseudo-copulation. He knew what he had to do in order for the delightful torture to stop, but quailed at doing so. Meanwhile his be-potioned body continued to fornicate as though he was running a marathon. Four o’clock came, and as Rory was feeding him Draco broke.
“Alright, alright, I give in. You may fuck me.”
“How many times did you do it to me?”
“Oh no! Seven times … Please no!” Draco looked at the elongating Scottish stake and wondered if he really could take it all. Its girth was much less than Harry's, but its length was a little greater. But then the alternative was even worse.
“I need some interest. Nine times!”
“Merlin … You strike a hard bargain!”
“No harder than a Malfoy with a sixteen-year-old magically weak youth in his clutches. Someone you first thought to be a squib. My magic has improved since then, so the first three will be here with you still attached to the wheel.”
“What … Merlin … No!”
“That’s up to you, I can sleep while you are fucking that machine; all I have to do is feed you every now and again. The potion has dimmed all your magical responses, so by the time your lover finds you; it will be worn out. I’ve heard of an Irish woman who wore her lover to death in six months, so there won’t be much of your cock left for him to enjoy when he finds you.”
Rory re-started the contraption, adding another hose to make the wheel speed up. He also attached the arm further out on the perimeter of the wheel so as to give a longer throw. It wasn’t double the speed because the longer travel required more power. Draco had three pulsating emissions within twenty minutes.
“Okay, okay, okay I agree,” he gasped.
“Mother thought you would eventually.” Rory produced a wedge shaped dildo and anointed it with a potion Draco recognised – an extreme relaxant and lubricant.
Draco was made to hug the cover of the wheel and was strapped to it. By bending over the top of it with his knees tucked up each side; his sphincter was stretched and easily available for Rory to access, not that he did that to begin with. The wheel was still on long throw meaning that Draco’s bum moved up and down in time. The wedge shaped dildo was placed beneath him and slowly jacked up so that he widened himself automatically – that took two further emissions. Once the dildo was all inside Draco, the machine was stopped and the Slyth was fed some more enhancing potion.
“Are you ready?”
“I suppose so - - - - Merlin … It’s longer than I thought … H-h-h-h-h-h … Its stroking my love spot all the time.”
Rory started the machine, with a very turned on and co-operative Draco reciprocating on top of him. Unbeknown to Draco, Rory had taken a swig of the sex potion so he was also well prepared for a marathon.
Rory had never ever experienced anything like this. The gyrating body on top clung to every particle of his prick energising his lascivious feelings almost beyond endurance. After three quarters of an hour he was uncoupling Draco from the machine, but remaining coupled to his bum. He hugged the Slyth, stroking the crimson pillar to produce more convulsions and enjoy the blond’s contractions and having his fourth thrill.
Rory wasn’t so magically weak that he couldn’t Accio things, so he gathered all that was needed. He strapped his kilt on, leaving the parting where his implement penetrated Draco. Walking down the steps excited Draco to have another emission, but not Rory who was too busy balancing.
To Draco’s embarrassment Siobhan was waiting for them.
She clocked his crimson pole: “That seems well used, it’s darker than when you displayed it to me in the library.”
She steadied her son as he boarded the boat. He sat down on the cross-boarding facing backwards, so that Draco was on full display for the witch to ogle.
“We have quarter of an hour before the waters right. I think we could fill in the time by Draco giving us a display, don’t you, Rory.”
“Yes Ma, with luck I’ll be half way finished by then.”
“Why aren’t you enjoying it?”
“Very much, that’s not what I meant … I meant …”
“… Alright, I understand what you mean. May I?”
“That’s what we agreed.”
From where she sat at the tiller Siobhan drew her wand and pointed it at Draco’s throbbing erection; muttering a Celtic charm. A snake like apparition emerged from the end of her wand and wafted over to the Draconian dick. It opened its jaws and swallowed his erection, at the same time inserting its forked tongue down his slit. It felt silk smooth, and highly sensuous. The blond drew forward and back trying to fuck the apparition and incidentally bringing Rory to the brink. The snake sucked hard and Draco sighed, gripping his buttock muscles in fruition; ensuring Rory’s at the same time. The snake withdrew, dripping goo from its jaws, Draco still displayed his slimy scarlet end for the witch to ogle but by now she was too intent on catching the right wave and steering through the gap to look.
Halfway through the voyage, Rory lost his rigidity and withdrew; this would enable him to help his mother secure the boat when they tied up. However, the witch fitted a magic collar on to Draco which controlled him and his magic until such time his vow to Rory had been fulfilled. He had struggled but Rory was far too strong; so Draco remained naked and hard, but for the collar, as they walked back to the croft.
Once inside Siobhan sat down in her favourite chair: “Come here Mr Malfoy, I wish to inspect you properly … That’s it … stand in the light.”
Draco was still hard and Siobhan’s inspection was not just with her eyes, she stroked every part of his body with her wand inducing tingles wherever it touched. With the collar on he was unable to object to her demands. He suspected it was dark magic and allied to the imperious curse; he felt it was injudicious to object about its legality just then. She had him sit straddled with Rory holding his splayed feet in the air; the wand caressed his perineum until he reached fruition, while she observed the various muscles at work. Draco felt like an exhibit in a laboratory and found it very degrading, as was Siobhan’s intention.
She ran her vibrating wand up and down the underside of his rampant rod, making him pant and squirm, and then made him describe what he was feeling in great detail.
Touching his glans-eye she made it itch until he promised to give a demonstration of the ball ended probe until he came. Half an hour of embarrassing exercise followed with his libido and his rectitude having a battle inside his brain, exhibitionism and privacy also joined in the mental fray before any results were visible leaking round the probe’s edges. Draco was weeping in frustration and degradation by the time he had finished.
“Right, Rory, take your toy to bed.”
“Thanks Mum, I’m looking forward to playing with it.”
With the collar on Draco was unable to lose his erection until Rory said so. Rory had him doggy style and then in the front folded position. Draco had two emissions to Rory’s one and needed his sleep. He got some and woke to find Rory shagging him again with a sticky mess down his front and then went to sleep with the overlong prick still inside him.
- 101
- 102
- 103
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