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The Rooms of The Garnet Rose	By : ObsidianJaguar Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 14443 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and any recognizable characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and her corporate affiliates. Anything unrecognizable is mine. The only remuneration received for this fic may be found on its review page.

Chapter List
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This chapter is for Cody_Thomas, who requested Charlie/Harry. Thank you for the review, and I hope this (and any maybe-sequel) was worth the wait!

The Hero and the Dragon Tamer

            Harry blinks blearily, trying to focus in the brightly flickering torchlight before realizing that he can’t see properly because his glasses are no longer perched on his nose. Startled, he tries to remember where he is, where his glasses should be. What was the last—?

            Ah, yes. He had found the door to the Garnet Rose, and, cloaked and bespelled, walked through it. Harry can then only recall a sensation of falling before blackness surrounded him.

            And now he is very close to blind, sprawled face-down across a soft surface that appears to be—that is—an impossibly large bed. Reflexes drive him to snatch for his wand, but his hand won’t obey his command. Frantic, Harry begins to thrash and struggle, fighting for any movement that will allow him to free himself. He needs his glasses. He needs his wand. He needs to get out of here, out of this trap that someone has set for him. He needs—

            “That won’t work, Harry.” The youth freezes at the sound of the familiar voice, speechless with shock. “No, that won’t accomplish anything at all.” The rich, resonant voice comes closer, and Harry can feel the bed dip under a new weight near his feet. “You see, your limbs—and, to a degree, even your cock—are now mine.” Rough-callused fingers trail up his calf, and a tiny whimper escapes Harry’s throat; his leg won’t even shudder from the light, tickling touch. “It’s a very useful little invention,” the voice continues, “though it’s normally used on dragons and other beasties that need to be controlled. Leather cuffs, magicked to prohibit movement—unless the keeper manipulates the limb himself.” Large hands grip his ankle and pull his leg up from the bed, to an angle Harry would have thought impossible. The hands let go, and Harry finds himself half-suspended in mid-air, tendons protesting the strange position as his ankle remains where it was put as though it had somehow been nailed there. Harry inhales sharply as he realizes that he is not only bound, but stripped bare, and his penis is dangling for his captor to see. He begins to struggle again, just as fruitlessly as before.

            “You need to accept it, Harry.” Charlie’s voice is as matter-of-fact as it would be describing the differences in dragon scales. His hand returns to the younger man’s leg, drifting along his thigh.

            “I won’t accept rape!” Harry replies hotly.

            Charlie sighs with just a hint of exasperation. “You came to The Garnet of your own free will, Harry. You are in this particular room, with me of all people, because something in you wants it, needs it.” His fingers reach their destination, and begin to brush and press the exposed skin behind Harry’s balls. “There is,” Charlie continues, satisfaction tingeing his voice at the sound of Harry’s strangled groan, “no such thing as ‘rape’ at The Garnet Rose. It’s forbidden.” He shifts, leaning closer to Harry’s face, so close that Harry can see clearly the other man’s blue-grey eyes and feel the stubble rasp against his cheek as Charlie whispers into his ear. “In fact, it’s the only thing that’s forbidden here, little Harry.

            “I can make you do things you’ve never even dreamed of.” Harry’s head swings round so that he can stare at Charlie, wide-eyed. Charlie grins and draws Harry’s leg down, leaving him flat on his back. “And I can make you like it.” He slides the tip of his tongue along the boy’s cheek.

            “Charlie…” Harry whispers hoarsely. “I—“

            “Hush, little Harry.” Charlie lays a finger over the boy’s lips. “Good little wizards wait until they’re asked a direct question.”

            Harry swallows convulsively. “And bad little wizards?” he asks hoarsely, his face reddening. What is he? What is he, really, that he can be the Hero of the Wizarding World, and still feel excited by… by… this? What is he, that the prospect of all the girls and young women eager to find themselves in his bed terrifies him more than anything else? That the mere idea of being immobilized and possibly punished by the dragon tamer, Charlie Weasley, is sending the blood rushing through his veins and down to his cock? Ron didn’t seem to have a problem with a horde of females at his beck and call. Wasn’t that what every bloke wants?

            What did… all this… make him?

            “Bad little wizards, Harry James Potter,” Charlie rumbles in his ear, drawing out the syllables of his name, “speak out of turn. And,” he adds, digging large, blunt nails into the boy’s hips, “they get exactly what they deserve. But let’s see if you can be a good boy, hmm?” Those same nails drag in towards his center, leaving slight, red tracks in their wake, stuttering slightly over the leather cuff Harry had not yet realized was there. “Such a useful little device,” Charlie muses, watching the boy’s half-hard penis stir and lift in response to his nails’ stimulation. “We can do all sorts of things while you’re wearing it. If you’re very good, I might even let you fuck me with it on. But it won’t let you come, of course, until I wish it.” His nails drag up and down, light touches with a frisson of pain that harden Harry further. “If you’re bad, Harry, I won’t let you come at all. I might even leave you here, stone-hard and needy and in pain, without the slightest chance of finishing yourself off.

            “So you will be a good little wizard,” he purrs, suddenly changing light, slow touches to a tight, fast grip. “You will let yourself go, put yourself in my hands, mine alone,” Charlie feels the soft, steel-cored skin shift beneath his moving hand and grins in anticipation, “and I will give you your reward.” He watches the boy’s wide eyes shift rapidly from his face to his hand, sees the fear and uncertainty metamorphose into unthinking pleasure. Harry’s head falls back onto the bed, and his hips jerk wildly, fuelled further, faster by the ankle restraints that keep the boy’s feet firmly locked to the bed. Charlie slows a little, but adds his left hand to Harry’s balls, squeezing, pinching, massaging the tightening flesh.

            Dimly, Harry thinks he should be struggling to get out of his bonds, but soon enough, all thought melts from his brain, and he recognizes only the magnificent pleasure and pain that Charlie is dealing him from his hands. That tight, tight grip, mitigated only by the slickness leaking from his own cock, those extraordinary fingers manipulating his testicles into the highest of sensations. A strangled cry escapes from his throat as the fingers dig painfully into the flesh behind them. All that is left to him is the endless thrashing of his body, seeking more and more sensation, wordless desperation for that final, unknowable touch that will allow him release.

            Charlie observes everything closely, with instincts developed over years of dodging, manipulating, taming dragons. He sees that final vestige of will slip away as Harry gives himself over to the pleasuring of his body. Watches him approach climax, only to have it denied by the modified dragon cuff. Pushes him further, further beyond where the point of no return ought to have been. Takes pleasure himself in all the evidence of Harry’s ecstasy as it approaches the point of pain. And then… There! Harry’s body surges off the bed, tautens in an almost impossible curve, his wrists and ankles still bound to the mattress. His throat releases a series of desperate moans as he finds himself yet unable to come. Charlie waits, his hands still busy on Harry’s cock and balls, watching like a hawk until the boy relaxes, ever so slightly, his body just fractionally beginning to descend, unable to maintain the unnatural posture. “Nunc!” he cries, and the smallest dragon cuff loosens, allowing an impossible surge of blood and cum to flood beneath Charlie’s fingers and through Harry’s penis. The boy screams his release, his body bowing insanely once again as sensation tears through him. His hips, locked into the extreme position, still try to pump frantically as the thick ropes of cum spurt from his over-stimulated member. Charlie feels the hot liquid land on his own shoulders and hair, yet continues squeezing and rubbing, determined to milk every last drop the boy can give him. Even more cum follows, and Charlie manipulates Harry’s cock as it does, sending it over the boy’s own face and chest as it falls back down.

            To Harry, it is an eternity of impossible ecstasy, pleasure shooting through every portion of his body, centring in his life’s essence pouring from him. He can only vaguely realize the straining of his muscles, the pain of the bonds pinning him to the bed, the hot liquid that rained down on him from above. Even the final expert tugs of Charlie’s fingers are lost in the maelstrom of sensation and the almost immediate surge of lethargy that follows. As he tumbles back bonelessly to the bed, he senses Charlie eeling up his body, smearing the fluids from his cock up his stomach and chest.

            “That, Harry,” Charlie murmurs in his ear, “is the reward of good little wizards. And I can give it to you again and again…” The words trail off as Harry tumbles into the blackness of oblivion, his last thought a determination that maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.

            Charlie lifts himself up and away from the unconscious boy, then shrugs off his come-splattered shirt. He regards the streaks of pre-come and semen that still glisten on Harry’s skin, but decided instead to simply toss the shirt in an empty corner. There was still plenty of play-time left between the two of them, and Harry should have a reminder of how the first round had ended. Charlie rearranges the boy into a more comfortable position, then curls up behind him. Just before he dozes off himself, he remembers to re-tighten the dragon cuff.

            Oh, yes, there was still plenty of time for them to play.
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The Rooms of The Garnet Rose