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Bound and Gagged	By : SomethingElse Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 79948 -:- 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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Ahh, a perfect question, but not one I’m going to answer, just yet. Sorry, unneeded.

Narcissa is still around, but of her status, who know? Well, besides me?

Draco and Lucius’ minds will become clear in the next few chaps. I’ve plans for that, but thanks for that beautifully timed review.

Ooh, Alex. Don’t give away too much!

Chapter Four: Blood

Harry returned just as Draco was beginning to feel his hands go numb and wonder if he’d been forgotten. His body throbbed in places that normally he ignored, and was losing sensation in the places that he was used to being the most sensitive, and he was locked into a room where only Harry Potter knew to find him.

But, the boy savior returned, and Draco nearly sighed with relief. Nearly, but not quite, for Harry didn’t immediately release him. He walked over to Draco’s position, stalked around the frame and pulled something from the back that released it from the base and made it swivel up, resettling Draco into a diagonal position, somewhere between upright and horizontal.

Harry released the nipple clamps, once at a time, allowing the blood to flow swiftly into the abused nubs and heat to fill the area. He didn’t touch them afterwards, allowing Draco that little bit of respite, but the area burned and tingled with something more like pain than pleasure. Then, he removed the leather belt that restrained Draco’s cock, taking it to the side and putting it away neatly into a drawer with the nipple clamps and chain. The removal of the restricting item allowed Draco’s abused penis to semi deflate, the blood leaking slowly from it so that he was less embarrassed by the natural reaction he’d succumbed to.

Harry didn’t seem to take notice of it instead he began to ease Draco’s balls from the donut shaped weights by slipping one through before easing the metal ring off of the other. To the blond’s horror, this action cause a return of the influx of blood to his cock and it swelled back to its nearly aroused state. Harry was holding his sack in his left hand, as if protecting Draco from the weight of his own testies, when he noted the rising organ above them. Instead of tormenting the Slytherin by teasing him, the Gryffindor young man reached his other hand up and took the appendage in his fist, stroking it slowly to full hardness.

“What are you doing?” Draco gasped.

“Shh.” Harry hushed him, his hand moving faster as his thumb and fingers rolled the spheres that they held. Draco’s breathing became erratic as he succumbed to the sensations, and his body strained against his bound arms and legs. “Call it . . . a prize for good behavior. You took your punishment well, very little struggling, and I want to reward you.” Harry said this with such conviction that Draco was sure he was serious. He nearly scoffed, but his mouth, not to mention his mind, was far too occupied in reacting to the feelings of his groin to do much more than gasp and cry out. Harry let his thumb roll over the tip, grazing the slit and rubbing the drops of precum over the head.

Draco came with a blinding fury, squirting streamers of cum against his chest and belly, his throat sore from screaming in pleasure, and his limbs stiff from straining against the frame. Harry slowly released his hold on the blond’s sex organs, reaching up to rub the sticky semen across Draco’s chest. He barely brushed past the left nipple and Draco cursed softly, the sensation less painful but still overwhelming.

Next, Harry swiveled the frame back into the upright position and undid the restraints, starting with Draco’s ankles. Draco slid free and nearly landed on the ground, pooling from the lack of blood in his legs and feet. Harry assisted him to the only chair in the room and retrieved the other young man’s pants. “Here. Put these on and I’ll take you to your room.” Harry told him, handing him some dressy slack and a soft cotton shirt. Muggle clothes, but very nice and well fitted to the tall thin blond.

“These aren’t mine.” Draco complained, but Harry shook his head.

“A gift, perhaps. Just get dressed. I’m hungry.” The dark-haired wizard told him.

Draco dressed quickly and Harry lifted him, one arm over his shoulder, and helped him hobble to his room. Once there, he settled Draco onto his bed and handed him a cup and a plate with a large roast beef sandwich on it. “Eat, then you’ll need to get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll begin studying for our NEWTs.”

Draco finished the sandwich and downed the cup of juice that he was certain was laced with a sleep draught, for his eyes were heavy and his neck seemed unable to hold his head up. He was asleep before Harry had put the cup onto the tray with the plate and the boy-who-lived was tucking him in like a little child. “Sleep well, Malfoy. Tomorrow, we have a big day, but tonight you’ll have some not-so-sweet dreams.” Harry said and then he left. He set the spell that would warn him when Draco’s dreams reached their zenith and then he went to find Snape and Lucius.

He spent an hour with the two men, working on the Draught of Living Death, for his up and coming tests.

Draco’s dream had to have blood. Rivers of it, since Draco was deathly afraid of blood, and he had managed to keep it secret for this long. He was drenched in the viscous fluid that was pouring from a parapet of the castle directly above him and he couldn’t move out from under it.

He’d been struck by some spell, possibly the body bind, and he was trapped under the flow of someone’s life force as it drained away. His eyes kept getting blurry from the blood that dripped down his face and when he tried to scream, to call out for help, the blood flowed into his mouth and all that came out was a gurgle.

Finally, the blood stopped, it slowed first to a small trickle and then ceased altogether. Draco knew with certainty what this meant and he steeled himself against it. But one thing was always the same, when you tried to prepare for something that was when it would most shock you. Draco stepped out from under the broken battlements and turned around; looking up at what he was sure would be the dead body of the person whose blood had now coated his entire body, but when he looked up, his eyes went impossibly wide. There, dangling from the stone parapet was the battered and beaten body he recognized as himself.

It was his own blood that had flowed onto him, warm and thick, and his life that had ebbed out of the body on the ramparts.

Draco screamed!

“It’s okay. I’m here and it was only a dream. You’re safe, Malfoy. Open your eyes.” Harry’s voice called from above and it was then that he realized that his eyes were squeezed shut on the horror of his nightmare. He only held them closed for fear that it was Harry that was the dream and his death was the reality.

“Harry? Is it really you?” he whispered.

“Yes. I’m here. Open your eyes, Draco. I’ve got you. Tell me what happened.” Harry coaxed in enough of an order to make him obey.

Draco’s eyes flew open and he found himself in the pale blue shelter of his room in Harry’s house. “I died.” He said simply.

“No. You’re fine. You’re here with me.” Harry corrected him.

Draco looked at his face, his green eyes so clear without his glasses. He looked down at Harry’s pajamas, really just a tank top and some boxers, and realized that Harry had come to him so quickly, in response to his need, that he hadn’t bothered to cover up or grab his much needed eyewear. “No. I died. I saw my death, and the blood.”

Harry heard the terror that one word brought to the blond and he pulled him closer, shielding him with his arms and giving what relief he could. “It was a dream, Malfoy. You didn’t die. No one died. That’s what matters now. No one died and you can be free of the guilt. I know about blood. I’ve had it spilled for me, as well.”

Draco gasped in horror, visions of the victims of the Dark Lord, Cornelius Fudge, Charity Burbage, Bertha Jorkins, just to name a few, and the blood that had tainted his mind and his home. It was that irrational fear that had given him the final burst of courage to take the potion that had landed him in Harry Potter’s home, the fear to return to the manor where the blood of the Muggle Studies teacher had been spilled before his innocent eyes. He squeezed those eyes closed again, trying to block out the visions in his mind by closing off the light with his eyelids. “No more blood, please Harry Potter. Take the blood away.” He begged.

“I’ll cleanse you, Draco. I’ll take the blood. It’ll all be on me, now.” Harry promised, petting the blond hair down against Draco’s sweaty forehead. “Listen to me, Draco. You are free of the blood. Do not be afraid anymore.” And he worded it as a directive that the potion would respond to.

Draco felt the flush of the spell, the influx of innocence, at least a touch of it, and the purging of his mind. Blood was still something that he didn’t want to see, and he still remembered the sight of the dying woman, but the blood no longer held him in terror. He was free.

Harry shut the door silently, leaving the blond to sleep peacefully for probably the first time in months, and he walked the distance to his own bed, curling up and drifting off. Perhaps now his own nightmares of blood and death would cease to haunt him.
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Bound and Gagged