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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
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Chapter Two: Servitude
Voldemort had never noticed the way that Harry had grown up, only intent on killing the boy wizard for so long that he had failed so see that the boy-who-lived was now the man-who-had-an-impressive-package. Harry had slid off his clothing, secure in the words of the vow that kept Voldemort from injuring him, and he was standing proud in front of the blond man. Lucius was on his knees, draped over the small table that had held the tray and goblets, the gag still in place and his hands still bound behind him. His hair hung loose around his lower face and over his shoulders, but his eyes were on display for the Dark Lord's amusement.

Snape had vacated without warning, but Voldemort was unconcerned by his absence. He was intent on the scene in front of him. The blond man about to be penetrated by the boy wizard, without preparation or any lubrication. The snake man felt the stirrings of arousal that he had thought lost to him with his magically replaced flesh. Harry noted a rise in the fabric of Tom's robes and his eyes sagged lustily. Perhaps Severus was right.
He plunged into the heat of his slave and relished the choked scream, held in the man's mouth by the remembrall gag. It was ecstasy.
Harry held himself, fully sheathed in the blond man's body, feeling it jerk under him in an attempt to adjust to the pain and discomfort. Harry nearly came from the feeling of Lucius squirming under him, while he pushed up on the man's arms, forcing his head down nearly to the floor. “Yes, slave. I have conquered you, now. I own you, Lucius! You are mine!”
Lucius stilled, his body tensing as Harry began to move inside of him. The tightness and heat made the boy-wizard’s body thrum and he fought to prolong this, to keep from cumming until he could feel that he had properly used the man, made him hurt and sweat and work for his seed. It was the least he could do. The blond had done so much evil, and Harry felt obligated to make sure he suffered as much as his victims, if he could.
The man bit hard around the unwielding sphere and his arms spasmed from the pain of the unnatural angle that Harry held them. It was not the worst of his ordeal, but it was straining and not completely taking his mind off the violent taking on his anal virginity. He could feel the slow dribble of fluid leaking down his legs, whether from blood or some other substance, but this too did not pull him from the agony. It was as if a hot poker had been pulled from the fire and thrust into his body, the burning seared his flesh and radiated outward, keeping him in constant awareness, though he would wish for the oblivion of unconsciousness. He fought inwardly, though his body refused to respond, and that was the worst part.
Lucius knew exactly what he felt, his emotions, his desires, his responses, but he couldn’t act on them. He was aware of his mind, the humiliation, the anger, the resentment, and his body was responding to Potter’s every command. The words that the boy spoke, his smug comments about the lengths of his control over the aristocrat, burned in his brain, like the boy’s cock burned in his hole. This was the worst part of this punishment.
He was trapped in a body that would only do what Potter, his Master, demanded.
Harry had begun to thrust harder, faster, and it was bringing him closer to his climax, pushing him along no matter how much he would like to prolong the session, and all too soon, he arrived. He came in a blinding orgasm that stole his breath and made lights flash behind his eyelids. He twitched in the recesses of Lucius Malfoy, releasing the last of his semen and feeling his heart beating in every extremity. It was purging to his temper and he pulled out slowly, giving the man the only relief he would allow, by not ripping free from his abused body.
Harry lowered the bound arms onto the man’s back and pulled loose the knot in his old tie. The remembrall fell to the floor and rolled toward the silent wizard in the chair by the fireplace. Harry looked up and took immediate notice of the wet stain on Voldemort’s robes and the shocked, vacant expression on his face. He stood up, waved the elder wand and was immediately clothed and cleaned. He grabbed hold of the long blond strands of his servant’s hair and pulled Lucius to his knees. He leaned down and whispered into the closest ear, “You’ve left the Dark Lord speechless. You should be proud.” And then shoved the man’s face toward the table.
Voldemort hadn’t heard his words, but when Harry crossed to him, he regained what he could of his demeanor, only reacting when Harry waved the wand again and his robes were free of the obvious signs of his response to Harry’s debauching of his ex-death eater. Harry stopped a few paces from him, picked up the remembral and turned, waving the wand again, conjuring a pile of muggle clothing on the ground in front of the slave. Lucius turned his face, on the table where he remained, and winced at the t-shirt and blue jeans folded neatly. He knew what was coming and his mind wanted to rebel.
“Get dressed, Lucius. We’ll be leaving as soon as I complete my business.” Harry called and then turned to the snake-faced man. “I believe that more of your humanity remains than you believed, and you might want to speak with Snape about this.” He indicated the freshly cleaned patch of cloth. “But, I am a man of my word, and this is yours.” He put the remembrall in his pocket, waved the wand and produced a stone in his palm, the resurrection stone. He handed it, as well as the wand to the man, and pulled out his old wand. Voldemort took his prizes and watched silently as Harry returned to the nearly dressed blond, looking him over and nodding. Harry conjured a pair of black socks and some deck shoes and handed them to the cowering man, Lucius took them and stared at them. “Sit down and put them on.” Harry instructed.
The pain was reintroduced into his backside as Lucius sat on the table and put the shoes onto the floor. He slid the socks on, one at a time, slowly and painfully, wincing often as he did. Harry watched impassively and when his slave was dressed, he put out his arm. “Come, then. It is time to go.” And Lucius hesitantly took hold of his arm. The boy waved his wand, vanishing the table, before he apparated them out of the home of Tom Riddle.
Voldemort stared at the stone and wand, a slow smile filling his face. Whether it was for his trophies, or the realization that he could again feel the pleasures of his body, was unclear, but when a small chuckle, that rose to a raving laugh, filled the room, the walls echoed with it. Voldemort looked around, realizing that he was completely alone.
Harry landed them carefully onto the street in front of his home, handing Lucius a slip of paper that read, “The home of your master, 12 Grimmauld Place, welcomes its new slave, with the compliments of Severus Snape, Secret Keeper.” and a movement in the middle of the row of buildings caught Lucius’ eyes. He watched as the space between Number 11 and Number 13 opened up and displayed the hidden lair he would now call home. A part of his mind wondered about the status of the Manor and what would become of his wife.
He only hesitated for a moment, as Harry moved toward the door and opened it. Lucius followed him inside, feeling a wave of claustrophobia as the door closed behind him.
“Draco!” Harry called and the younger blond scurried down a flight of stairs. He stopped at the landing when he caught sight of his father’s appearance. “What . . ?” he began, but Harry cut him off.
“Lucius will be in the room next to mine, which have you chosen for yourself?” his Master asked.
“The smaller one, on the second floor. Is that alright?” Draco asked.
“That’s fine. I half expected you to try for one of the bigger rooms. What made you pick that one?” Harry wondered aloud.
“I assume that I have no possessions, any longer. I hardly need much space for them.” Draco admitted, just a little sadly.
“Never assume anything, Draco. You will have what you earn. For now, that room will suffice, but if you please me, I’ll consider moving you. So, what do you think of my home? It was Sirius’ before he died. He left it to me.” Harry said strolling into his parlor, where he and Hermione had begun to redecorate. It was still oppressive, though not as dingy and dark looking. Draco followed, just behind Harry, as Lucius lagged a few feet back. When they were all inside the room, Harry dropped onto one of the comfortable couches and looked up at his slaves. “Sit down, already. Don’t make me strain my neck to look up at you.”
When they were seated, Draco in a large chair and Lucius on the couch across the room, Harry smirked. “Ask.” He told Draco, who was straining with questions.
“What did you do to my father?” the younger blond asked and Harry guffawed.
“It’s just a bit of a youth serum and some muggle clothes, Draco. Don’t act like I turned him into a zombie.” Harry said between laughs.
“A what?” Draco asked.
“Nevermind. Oh, and don’t call him that any more. Just use his name, and mine, unless I order you to do something, then Master will suffice. You realized it, didn’t you? That you still have mental free-will? I thought it fitting. If I specifically order an act, you will proceed, but you may still reject it in your mind. And if I don’t order something, you will be able to question it, and I may respond to those questions. Certain things will not be negotiable. Do you understand?” Harry waited as Draco and his father digested this.
“I understand. It will take some getting used to, Harry. But, it could have been worse. This house is quite well stocked, I noticed. May I ask a question, now?” Draco asked, and Harry nodded. “Am I permitted access to the library? May I read, or practice spells and potions?”
“You may, so long as it is not in an attempt to alter or negate the potions that made you my servants. There is an antidote, but only two people know of it, and it isn’t in any of those books. You may read anything that isn’t in my room, or on the shelf in the potions lab. Those belong to Snape.” Harry told them.
He had designated the two rooms, a potions lab in Regulus’ old room, and Sirius’ bedroom, to Snape in the beginning of their partnership. The professor had finally managed to teach him occlumency, and legilimency, and was now improving Harry’s abilities in potions, charms and transfiguration. Snape was in secret an accomplished animagus, unregistered of course, and that goal had found its way into Harry’s mind of late. Now that the Dark Lord was only a Dark Wizard, he would throw himself into it fully for the remains of his summer. Professor McGonagall had offered to retest any of the seventh years at the end of the summer for their NEWTs. Harry planned to pass many of them.
This thought brought another with it. “How did you do on your exams, Draco?” he asked.
“Five Outstanding NEWTs, three others not so well.” Draco admitted.
“Which didn’t you excel in?” Harry asked.
“Transformations, Ancient Runes and Astronomy.” Draco said.
“I see. Would you like to retest, with the rest of us?” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked this, and Draco was equally perplexed. In his current predicament, he hardly needed any NEWTs, and would not be searching for employment in the near future, but he responded quickly and honestly,
“Yes, I would. I think I could have done much better if the pressure of . . . life wasn’t so bad.” Draco admitted.
“Yes, I understand that. You’ll still need to study up, and work on it. I’ll talk to Sinistra and see if she might give you some tutoring over the next months. She mentioned that the roof of this building is a particularly good spot for viewing the stars. I think we can study together for transfigurations, and I want to propose another lesson to you. It’s a secret, so we’ll talk about it later.” Harry found himself stifling a yawn, so he rose and waved to Lucius. “For now, it’s to bed. I need a nap.” And he left the younger blond staring after them as he went. Lucius followed dutifully, not knowing what was to come, but dreading it just the same.
Harry stopped at the top of the stairs, just passed the second floor, and indicated a room to the right. “That is my room. Yours is the next door down. Go to bed, sleep and when I wake up, I’ll come to get you. You are not to leave that room, unless I tell you. Do not open the door, or let anyone else in. It is for you, only.” And when Harry finished speaking, Lucius proceeded past him and opened the designated door.
Harry sighed and went to his own room, collapsed on his bed and slept for the first time in three days.
Lucius looked around the sparsely furnished room. There was a tiny bed, with a sag in the middle and one thin blanket. He hoped the house was well insulated and if not, hoped that Harry would let him tell him the best heating and cooling spells. His mind accepted the loss of his magic, for never would Harry allow him to touch a wand or utter an incantation, but he still had knowledge of useful spells that might alleviate some of the boy’s anger and vengefulness. The politician in the man plotted ways to make his sentence less foreboding, and this new home more comfortable. Perhaps, if Potter were pleased, he might also be rewarded by better sleeping arrangements and a few possessions. It was the only hope he had, once the realization of his plight sunk in.
Near the bed, was an end table, with a candle and a box of muggle matches. There was a dresser and a window, with no curtains, and a door at the other side of the room from the entry. A tiny fireplace had only three logs and no kindling, so the blond wasn’t sure he could get it lit, if he needed it for the cold. Lucius checked the door, first. Inside was what he had heard called a water closet. A toilet, a sink and a larger basin that one might use to bathe in.
The dresser had five drawers, most empty, but one contained a large shirt, probably for sleeping, and some slippers. Lucius had been told to sleep and soon found himself changed out of his muggle clothes and climbing under the thin cover. He was asleep before he could process the move.

Draco let his fingers slide across the titles of the books, listlessly unsure what he would be able to concentrate on reading. Many of the books were ones he’d longed to begin, but now he couldn’t get up enough initiative. His mind kept returning to the arrangements that he and Lucius, damn even his mind wouldn’t call him father anymore, were subject to. He knew that the Gryffindor wouldn’t do them permanent damage, such was the flaw of that house, but the way that Lucius looked was spooky. Draco had never seen the man so quiet and submissive and the clothes! Lucius Malfoy in Muggle clothes! It was unheard of. Then, there was the matter of his face and how young he looked. Draco vaguely remembered the man looking similar when he started Hogwarts for the first year. Harry had changed Lucius back to the man at thirty or so.
There were always youth potions, some that worked fairly well, some not so well, but none could boast this kind of success! It was amazing, and Draco wanted to know its secret. But, Harry had forbidden searching for potions to counteract his. Only, Draco didn’t want to counter it, just know it. And it wasn’t the potion that held them in servitude, so it might be okay. If only Harry would wake up, then Draco could ask him.
His musings were cut short by the sound of the door opening, and Draco peeked out of the library to look down the hall, where the door was. He nearly whooped when he saw Severus Snape enter the house and strip off his outer cloak to hang it up. “Professor!” Draco called and Snape looked up.
“Ah, Mr. Malfoy. How are you adjusting?” The man asked.
“Adjusting? I’m not sure. I haven’t felt like it’s an adjustment. Is that wrong?” Draco asked.
“No. That is precisely how the potion works. It will only bother you, if you think about your past, and ruminate on what was. And what are you up to right now? I could use a hand in the lab, and yours will do adequately.” Snape asked.
“I was looking for a book, but I couldn’t decide on one. What are you brewing?” Draco asked.
“That’s not important. I want you to cut up some ingredients and I’ll be bottling some herbs. Those are the tasks I need help in. My potion is my own business. I’m sure that Harry has set some rules, so don’t make me request he add any others.” Snape picked up a satchel and headed up the stairs, with Draco in tow. “Has Potter given you any specific duties, as yet?” Snape asked with a quick and odd backwards look.
“No. He wants me to study up and retake my NEWTs, though. Was there something that he planned to have me do?” Draco wondered.
“I have no idea. I had believed that his plans only included your father. Your inclusion was a surprise to me, as well.” Snape told him. “But, as you are here and unassigned, I intend to borrow your person for my own tasks. Come in.” and the man led him into a well-designed and fully stocked potions lab.
Draco could only stare and utter a breathy, “Wow.”
Snape laid out an assortment of dried herbs, some that Draco recognized, a few he did not. The man put seven stoppered bottles onto the table and set out a supply of special labels. He turned to the boy and pointed at the display. “Anything you are unsure of, ask before you label it. Cut them all up into a fine powder and fill each jar only two-thirds full. Do you have any questions?” Snape said.
Draco shook his head and looked for the mortar and pestle on the shelf nearby. Severus considered him for a moment. “Do you still have your wand?” he asked.
“Yes,” Draco answered as he collected the supplies and began to sort the thyme from the anise.
“How is it working for you?” The man added.
“Fine. Well, I’ve only done the one thing so far.” Draco answered, still more concerned with his task than the questions.
“What one thing?” Snape asked.
“I changed the color of the walls in the room I chose. Not much, mind you. Just a shade darker.” Draco said looking up. “Why? Shouldn’t my wand work for me?”
“Not as well as it once did. The wand may have chosen a new master, Draco. If you have been defeated by Mr. Potter, for instance.” Snape said.

“Well, it seemed to have worked fine.” Draco insisted.
“But, you haven’t tried to do anything that was in opposition to Potter’s commands, or contrary to his possible wishes. If you did something for your own simple pleasure, it might not be as cooperative.” Snape insinuated.
“Well, I can hardly do that, can I? Since Harry told me to ask before I . . . .” Draco stopped and Snape quirked an eye. “He said that if he didn’t order me to do something and I wanted to, to ask first. It was an implied order, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. I believe it was. So, in order to do something selfish, you’d need permission. Not as free as it sounds, is it?” Snape chuckled and turned away, intent now on his own tasks. Draco shrugged off his own ineffectiveness and continued to grind the thyme.
Two hours later, as Draco was labeling the last of the ingredients he recognized and preparing to ask the professor about the last two, Harry was waking up and stretching in his room. He reached for his glasses and called out to the house elf. “Kreacher?” and the little elf popped into his room. “Where is Draco Malfoy?” Harry asked and the elf bowed slightly.
“The Malfoy boy is in Master Regulus’ room with the half-blood spy, Master Harry.” Kreacher said and Harry smiled. “Does Master Harry wish for dinner now?” Kreacher asked.
“No. Go back to what you were doing. Spying on the spy, I assume. I’ll have dinner later.” Harry told him, before crawling out of bed and casting a freshening spell on his clothing. He felt a familiar feeling while holding his holly wand, but somehow missed the elder wand a bit. It was a good wand, very easy to hold, and it felt like it belonged to him. He assumed that was part of the magic of the wand, and he’d get used to it eventually. He left his room and wandered up to the fourth floor, where Snape and Malfoy were working.
“That is Primordial. It is very rare, and very expensive, so grind it cautiously. It is one of my secret ingredients, and its properties are . . .” Snape was explaining, but Harry stopped him by saying.
“Are something you don’t need to know. Welcome back, Severus. Was your day eventful?” Harry asked and Snape nodded.
“Indeed, Harry. I wanted to speak with you about that. Perhaps now is not the time.” Snape said.
“Now would be fine. Draco, could you come back later? The professor and I need to speak.” Harry all but ordered Draco from the room and the blond walked out, briskly. “I have news for you.”
“Good, but first, why? Why did you include the boy in the deal?” Snape asked leaning against the table where Draco had been working.
“I told you, Severus. I want to purge them, and this will work. You said it yourself.” Harry insisted.
“But, that was because Lucius was guilty. The boy . . .” Snape began.
“Do you really think he’s innocent? I know him better than you.” Harry said.
“You know that I have seen the memory from that night. He lowered his wand, he didn’t, couldn’t go through with it. That is why Dumbledore assigned me the job. He believed the boy to be innocent.” Snape argued.
“Yes, innocent of murder. Innocent of duplicity because of the threats against him. But, he did practice dark arts. He did try to cast an unforgiveable. He did break my nose!” Harry returned.
“Is that what this is? A childhood rivalry. An immature grudge against a school age bully. Careful Mr. Potter, you’re becoming quite a familiar story.” Snape’s innuendo bit against Harry’s conscience, but he’d already considered this and had his arguments in place.
“Partly, perhaps. But, in my case, I intend to purge all of us. Draco, Lucius and myself. When they have felt the remorse, then I can move on as well. It is better than sending them off to be judged by the Wizengamot, isn’t it?”
Snape sighed. “Yes, it is. Just use caution, Harry. Don’t become a bitter old man. Don’t let your anger become prejudiced.”
“I know, and I forgave you already. Stop beating yourself up about it. Now, about the Dark Lord.” Harry began and Snape quirked his eyebrow again. “He rather enjoyed watching me punish Lucius.”
“He did? Then, my assumption was correct? He has a spark of humanity?” Snape asked.
“And if he does, then the potion would work for him, as well?” Harry continued the speculation.
“Yes. Indeed.” Snape smirked and Harry burst out laughing. "With the pieces of his soul returned, he will have an adequate humanity for it to bond to. It was crucial that a spark remained for those bits to reunite within him. If what you say is true, then there is still hope."
“You still have that other potion, don’t you?” Harry asked and Snape nodded. “Then, maybe certain improvements would ease it for you. . . .” Harry added and Snape scowled.
“I wanted to ask you about that, as well. You told me why you needed the youth serum, but why only reduce him to that age. Why not take him back to your own, make him an age more in keeping with your own. I told you I could do that.”
“Much as I would love to have a seventeen-year-old Lucius Malfoy to fuck, you must see that it wouldn’t work. He needs to be at least old enough to have made the decisions that he’s paying for, or he wouldn’t have the emotional maturity to deal with it. Imagine the fun of having that same young Lucius break down into a slobbering mess on me. He needs the maturity to accept the punishment and make the transition. Thirty-two is fine. And he looks hot, as well. I can live with it.” Harry admitted with a sneer.
“And his son? What about his maturity?” Snape returned.
“Draco is mature enough. He only has to deal with the sins of a seventeen-year-old, so seventeen is fine. Did you think I wanted you to make him older? Merlin, no. I can have one seventeen-year-old toy, too.” Harry’s smile gave away the truth behind his comments, and Snape understood.
“Cocky as always, Mr. Potter. Your attention grabbing days have resurfaced, I see. Perhaps I will have to take you down a notch, hmmm?” Snape growled.
“Not unless you take a dose of that potion, as well. I don’t go for old dudes, Severus.” Harry teased back and they both shared a laugh.
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Bound and Gagged