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Possession	By : uqui Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 85531 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- 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.

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> < Parceltongue
Possession

Chapter XIV - Vengeance

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Voldemort sighed, leaning back in his throne. His mind was consumed
by thoughts of Harry - his taste, smell, smooth creamy skin, cherry lips, messy
black hair and glorious emerald eyes. Unbidden came the image of the boy just
after he'd entered him and the Dark Lord couldn't help but remember how tight
Harry had been and the exact feeling of being inside him. Idly he wondered what
it would feel like to have Harry inside him. "You will be my only," Voldemort
murmured the words. He had slept with many people, men and women but he had
always been the one they served and he had never willingly served another's
pleasure. Even his Dark Arts teachers had known better. But Harry would have
that singular right and would be the only being who could claim to have taken
the Dark Lord.
He narrowed his eyes, shaking off his memories as a presence came to him but
after a moment he relaxed, nodding towards a shadow that was a slight pitch
darker that its fellows. "In time," he informed it. "In time I
will give your Master everything."
The shadow considered his words before it returned his nod and vanished,
once again, leaving the room empty but for the Dark Lord who sat in quiet
contemplation.

***
*** *** *** ***
>Ssss... Do they have to smell so bad?< There was a definite frown in Nangini's
voice.
>They're Muggles,< Voldemort replied, delicately wrinkling his own
nose. >This is about the best you can expect.<
Nangini looked up at her Master, the end of her tail flicking back and forth
absently. >I wouldn't even eat them,< She hissed, dismissing the Muggles
derisively before coiling her bulk tighter around Voldemort's throne, closing
her eyes as she returned to sleep.
Voldemort smiled thinly at her but the expression faded as he looked back
up. Before him were huddled Muggles guarded by five or so of his red masked
Elite. Some of the Muggles were staring steadfastly, some were muttering to
themselves, others had shed tears and one or two were trembling as they looked
at him but Nangini was correct. They smelt. Sweat, piss, shit and fear. It was
the last that brought a cold gleam to his eye.
"Muggles..." He hissed the word coldly bringing their attention to
him. "You have been brought here for a reason."
"Why?" One of the bolder one's questioned.
Blood red eyes fell on the speaker who gulped and after a moment looked away
shivering. "Because of these," Voldemort answered the question,
flicking his wand to bring the bruised and bloody Dursleys into the room. The
three of them fell to the floor where they remained kneeling, trembling and not
daring to look up. The previous weeks had not been kind to them.
"What?"
"I trust you recognise them? You are here because of them... Or should
I put it a different way..." He paused sensing the wave of uncertainty.
"You are here because you all dared to touch my mate."
"What?"
"Perhaps an image would help them understand, My Lord," One of his
Death Eaters suggested with a half bow.
"Hmm..." With an intricate flick of his wand, Voldemort brought an
image of Harry to life and most of the Muggles recoiled at it. The Dark Lord
smiled grimly. He'd chosen to represent Harry as the boy would be when he was
ready. His emerald eyes were still brilliant but coldly focused, his hair was
tied back but wisps still escaped in a manner Voldemort thought adorable. The
black robes hung around his frame somehow making him seem taller and giving him
an aura of power. "My mate," Voldemort introduced the illusion
softly.
"That bitch!"
"Crucio!" The Dark Lord snarled, his wand flicking** up,
his eyes glowing as he targeted the speaker and let the image fade. He
recognised the man... Having been in Harry's memories, he couldn't help but
recognise the man. It was the first one.
"Earrhhh..." The Muggle screamed, writhing on the floor and the
others drew away from him.
The Dark Lord snarled before he with drew the curse. "Never
refer to my mate as such. You are all here because you dared to touch him and I
do not take kindly to that. He is mine and mine alone."
He was met with silence from the Muggles so he continued.
"The pain my mate suffered you will experience in full and before I am
through you will be begging me to die but first I believe simple pain is in
order." With a wide encompassing flick of his wand he murmured the word,
"Crucio."
Voldemort looked on with hooded eyes as the Muggles screamed. He hadn't
included the Dursleys in the curse so they were the only one's who showed some
response to the torture the others were experiencing. They flinched at the
screams but retained enough sense, or fear, not to move. His Elites watched on
with bland expressions, ready to help their Master should he desire it. After a
few moments, after the initial screams had faded and the Muggles were gasping
for breath, Voldemort released the curse and there was tangible change in the
air.
The inky shadows of the ceiling seemed to writhe and a generous portion of
darkness dripped from the whole, forming an almost humanoid shape that stood
before the Dark Lord. It said nothing but as soon as it was sure that it had
the attention of the all the Muggles tendrils whipped out from it touching each
of them before dissipating into nothing. Two orbs of absolute black looked deeply
into Voldemort's crimson eyes. "Crucio is a bit crude." The whisper
echoed from everywhere, as if every inky shadow in the throne room had spoken.
Voldemort tilted his head as he examined the dark before him. This was a far
more powerful manifestation than he had ever been expecting. "It is a
beginning."
"You are the Dark Lord. It is crude," the shadows repeated.
Voldemort smirked, seeing where the creature was leading. "So what have
you done?"
"Given you a gift."
"What?"
The shadow before spread its arms, encompassing the Muggles. "They
cannot die until we desire it. Their minds may not retreat from the pain
of Cruciatus and further they shall know terror as children."
The Dark Lord's smile became truly pleased as he flicked is eyes over the
Muggles once more, lingering the few he had 'special' plans for. "Thank
you," he said warmly. It never hurt to thank those he didn't have full
control over.
The shadow looked at him. "It is for our Master."
"Hmm?" Red eyes blinked with well-hidden confusion. "I
thought your kind did not take kindly to authority yet you have voluntarily
implied you are controlled."
"There are factions amongst us."
"Ah... Watch over him."
"We are."
"You were right though, Crucio is effective but crude."
"As physical torture goes it is effective but it merely deals with the
body. The mind can also inflict pain," the shadow nodded its agreement.
"My touch does one further thing."
"Another gift?"
"It ensures that they may not experience pleasure from this."
"Ho! True sadists?" Voldemort questioned.
"Masochists," the shadow corrected.
"How rare..." In an odd way the Dark Lord seemed excited but he
quickly sobered looking back to the Muggles as the shadow floated back,
dissipating into the gloom. Crimson eyes narrowed as he looked at the huddled
mass of flesh, growling softly. With a half smile he flicked his wand looking
over the eight men he had selected for the first round. "Imperio," he
murmured, focusing on the other eighteen before he glanced over at the Dursleys.
It was Vernon's turn, he decided quickly. "Go..."
Voldemort kept his eye's on the first man, the one who had approached
Vernon. He looked around confused at the Dark Lord's words but as two other
Muggles with glazed eyes grabbed him and pushed him down, he cried out. Around
the room the other men who had been spared the Imperio’s touch echoed his cry.
One of the other men hit him when he struggled and pathetically tried begging.
With brutal effectiveness the two men stripped him before they stretched him
out, each man taking position at his head and arse. "No..." Voldemort
heard him cry in a voice that sounded like a child and it only brought the cold
knot of rage back to the Dark Lord.
"Slower," he ordered as he heard Harry's voice through the years
of pain as his beloved had struggled to fight. How dare that man beg...
The man looked at him, eyes screaming but Voldemort looked back with a dull
expression that bore only a slight question. 'What mercy do you think I would
give?' Blood red eyes glowed his pleasure at the situation and Voldemort licked
his lips gently.
"Eearr...mmpht..." the man screamed as the man at his arse pushed
his cock in. The cry was cut off as the second man took advantage of the opened
mouth and pulled the head down on to his own erection.
The smell of blood rose throughout the room, sweet and clinging and the Dark
Lord swallowed, taking a moment to enjoy the taste before he turned his
attention back to the tableau playing out before him. The two men were grunting
as they thrust into the other. The man penetrating the anus had captured both
his victims arms and was pulling them back pushing the shoulder blades together
which in turn was pulling the man's head up allowing the second man to ram his
cock in deeper. Voldemort watched as the man's throat was distended again and
again by the thrusting shaft and he struggled to breath around the meat. He
moaned around the organ, saliva trickling down his chin and tears streaming
from his eyes as the blood poured from his anus.
The scene was repeated throughout the room although the two men using Vernon
were struggling with his bulk but were making progress simply by repeatedly
battering the older man into submission. The blubber that was Harry's cousin
was cowering, sobbing softly as it dawned on him that the Dark Lord probably
wasn't going to be satisfied with just Vernon and so he was next and the woman
was staring with wide eyes, her mind screaming incoherently at the evil that
was here.
Voldemort altered his eyes, allowing himself to see the magical streams in
his throne room even though it was only Muggles. The streams were churning,
brilliant red tendrils that were the Imperio were wrapped tightly around
eighteen of them and were whipping at the wild magic. The eight victims weak
streams were being consumed and below everything was darkness. Beautiful...
he thought as he leaned back, panting slightly to fully appreciate the taste
and smells.
Blood, mixed with shit and overlaid by sex...
Red eyes closed as he concentrated, sealing way everything so that when
Harry asked the Dark Lord could show his beloved true vengeance. On top of the
delicious smells and tastes there was noise - flesh on flesh, the slick slurp
of bloody lubrication, choked moans mixed with hearty grunts of satisfaction
and finally cries of ecstasy.
"See my vengeance, Beloved," Voldemort murmured as the men
finished the first round, most of them pulling limp dicks out of the others and
some showing admiral disregard by wiping their cocks clean on their victims,
some pissing on the bodies that had pleasured them.
The eighteen men under the Imperio turned to regard the Dark Lord with blank
expressions, dropping to their knees before their Master. Now that their first
order had been carried out, they needed further instructions to function. The
others lay in pools of blood, semen and urine, gasping for breath, sobbing and
in some cases trying to pull on tattered clothing.
With a small frown of concentration Voldemort grabbed his Imperio, shifting
it from Muggle to Muggle. Ten Muggles remained free of the curse. The victims,
who had now been cursed, quit snivelling and pulled themselves to their knees
despite their states. The Muggles who had been released from the curse,
dropped, looking around with wild eyes as they remembered.
"The pain my mate suffered you will experience in full,"
Voldemort repeated and was pleased to see some of the 'free' Muggles eyes widen
in realisation. "Now begin," he ordered.
The set up was slightly different this time. He wanted to hear some of them
begging. Two men fell on Petunia. The fact that she initially hadn't known what
was happening to Harry had granted some mercy but she wasn't stupid, she had
worked it out and had stood on, letting it happen. She screamed and fought but
they were too strong for her, sandwiching her between them as they violated her
cunt and arse. She cried out at the assault, the calls becoming weaker as it
continued. The men varied their motions as they sought their release, sometimes
pounding into her together, at others one pushing in while the other pulled
out.
Another two men fell on Dudley. The fat boy continued to blubber in fear
before a cock entered his mouth muffling** his cries but even that couldn't
stop the low whine that escaped him as the second man pushed into his arse with
calculated slow cruelty.
Voldemort licked his lips as he turned to Vernon. The man was still kneeling
but had turned to face his wife and son and was watching their rapes, tears
streaming from his eyes to mix with the semen still coating his chins. The
Imperio didn't show on his body as it was with the others but it remained the
same. He could see and feel everything as normal but he could not act, save for
the actions Voldemort allowed him. He sat back slowly, not even feeling the
pool of his own blood that he rested in as he spread his legs, sitting
spread-eagled on the stone floor. Ham fingers moved their way to between his
legs and began to stroke his limp organ. After a few moments it surged with
blood and he began panting. He kept his fingers light and his movement's gentle
but in time with the pumping motions of those using his wife and son. Soon he
was grunting and puffing as if he were the one in Petunia or Dudley and the
Dark Lord noted gleefully that both 'victims' had seen his reaction. The family
was going back to the same cell later and it should be interesting. How
stringent would the woman be now that she believed her husband had gotten off
on her and that blob she called a son rapes?
"No... Please... No!" The scream echoed through the room and
Voldemort turned to see the speaker.
It was the first man. This time, only one man was using him and had the
first man face down beneath him. The cock that was penetrating was only half way
in and the Dark Lord could see the blood welling around the entrance, pouring
out but not lubricating the dicks passage well enough. With a savage grunt the
man on top pulled back slightly before ruthlessly pushing down, driving himself
in another inch before stopping.
The first man screamed, writhing and trying to claw his attacker but the man
had managed to pin his arms and was holding firm. The pounding motion was
repeated and slowly the man penetrated the other, sliding fully in with a growl
of completion as his balls slapped against blood smeared skin.
"No, no, no, no, no..." It was almost a litany coming from the
first man and did nothing but rouse Voldemort's pleasure and satisfaction at
events.
With a flick of his wand, Voldemort allowed the man using the first one to
speak, relaying the Dark Lord's words.
"Do you think I'm going to stop?" He questioned, thrusting once to
emphasis his point. "Harry asked you to stop. He begged, he screamed, he
fought. For years he asked you to stop and you didn't so now that I've just
begun, do you really think I'm going to stop?"
The man twisted to stare at Voldemort as the words were whispered in his
ear, their meaning accentuated by well timed thrusts into him. He knew,
instinctively that while the black robed man was still on his throne they were
his words. Voldemort laughed as he nodded to the Muggle. The man might have
been the first to use Harry but he was intelligent enough to understand the
deeper meaning behind the words. 'I'm not going to touch you, but I am going to
take you.'
Voldemort flickered his eyes around the room where other threesomes
continued to torture each other for his vengeance. The only other twosome was
relatively quiet, each man driving their cock into the others mouth as they
sought their release. With a nod of satisfaction he looked back at the first
man who had continued to struggle and cry out.
All is as it should be, he thought, feeling a wave of pleasure pass
through him and settle in his groin.
He would dream of Harry tonight.
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Possession