Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Areas of Expertise	By : SickPuppy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 42274 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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 Five - Dreams

"We desire nothing so much as what we ought not to have" Publilius Syrus

Harry sank back on his clean bed sheets. Madam Pomfrey had turfed him out of bed a little while ago and helped him into a bath. Whilst he had cleaned himself, she had changed the linen, so that the crumpled, sweat stained sheets were replaced with crisp cotton. It felt wonderful to his over heated skin.

The castle was settling for the night. The students were in their common rooms, soon to be disappearing into bed, and the ghosts had begun to wander about the hallways more.

What do the ghosts DO? Harry wondered as he wriggled, enjoying the feel of the fresh blankets.

He imagined the ghosts spending their days sitting in one of the dungeons, playing poker with ghost cards, waiting for evening when they would be more visible and could scare the bejesus out of the little first years.

He smiled to himself. The ghosts had some competition in the scaring stakes. Snape could be truly frightening when he wanted to be.

Yeah, but he can be bloody great too. No, stop thinking about it. I'm not gay.

Unbidden, he remembered how wonderful it had felt when the older man had been touching him.

Stop this, Harry! He told himself firmly. Think boring thoughts. Potions ingredients, potions, Snape, mmm. Shit! No. Right, try again. Quidditch. Quaffle. Keeper Snitch. Seeker. Bludger. Beater. Hmm, would I want Snape to beat me? Oh, fucking hell, Harry! Get a GRIP! Erm... OK, Voldemort. Death Eaters. Death Eaters' masks. Bellatrix Lestrange. The Department of Mysteries. The Room of Prophecies. The Room of Req...

Harry stood outside the Room of Requirement. He knew he was meant to meet someone in there, but couldn't recall who.

The clock struck twelve and the room's door magically appeared. Harry opened it and stepped through.

Inside, the room was divided into different areas. One space had a massive four poster bed in it and had thick rugs all around it. A second space had padded mats on the floor and strange wooden benches nearby. A third area had no carpeting, and was merely cold stonework, with a number of large metal rings fastened to the floor and dangling from chains from the distant ceiling. There was another section which seemed to be for bathing. A large bath tub stood there, and a shower head floated in mid air, attached to the bath with a water pipe.

Harry's eyes took in the entire room. Yet he seemed to be alone. He moved slowly towards the matted area, intrigued by the benches.

"So you have chosen that for your first training session?" a voice asked with some amusement.

Harry turned. A figure in black was emerging from the shadows, his face covered with a mask. It wasn't as frightening as a Death Eater mask, but it wasn't exactly reassuring.

"What do I do?" Harry asked. He knew that this was a dream, otherwise he would have questioned the meaning of "training session" and would have demanded that the other remove his mask.

"If you consent to your first session, lie face down on that bench," the man said, pointing at a simple bench with three holes cut into it. Two were reasonably close together, the third, larger hole was further away. "If you can not submit to my control for the next hour, then you must leave this room."

Harry looked about him. For whatever reason, he knew he would stay. He walked towards the bench and, with a moment's hesitation, lay face down on it as instructed. He rest his forehead against his crossed arms.

The man behind him hissed, "Let your arms fall to the sides."

Harry obeyed, and he realised that there were chains and cuffs attached to the legs of the bench.

The figure approached and gripped Harry's left wrist firmly, almost painfully. He forced the hand through a thick leather cuff which was chained to the bench leg and tightened the buckle. He followed on with the right wrist. He moved to Harry's legs and maneuvered his legs so that they were thrown over a piece of wood that stuck out of each side of the seat. Then the man cuffed Harry's ankles tightly.

That done, he gripped the waistband of the boy's trousers and simply pulled. Magically, Harry's clothing fell off him, and he lay, ass bared to the world, cock soft. It slipped through the larger hole in the wood, and Harry felt his face burn as he realised what the first training session would consist of.

The man tugged on Harry's shirt and that too fell away, revealing unmarred smooth skin. The silent person sat down near the youngster's chest and picked up a slender chain that was fixed to the floor. At the end of the chain was a metal clip. The robed figure fed the chain through one of the holes and pushed Harry up slightly. With his free hand he fastened the clip to the boy's nipple.

"No!" Harry cried in agony.

"You have agreed to submit," the other reminded him, "do not make me gag you."

The chain was quite loose, which Harry felt some relief for.

The man shifted to Harry's other side and repeated the operation. Once he had done so, he waved his hand and links vanished from both chains, making them shorter, pulling Harry hard against the wood, his clamped nubs showing through the two holes.

"Please!" Harry panted. He'd never hurt so much.

A sigh was his response. "I have warned you. This is your last warning. Do not speak unless I say you can."

The man arose and moved to stand between Harry's thighs. He reached a hand under and began tugging on the boy's dick.

"Oh, God, no!" Harry moaned.

The hand was removed and he sagged with relief, but cried out as he felt a thick piece of material forced into his mouth and tied savagely, catching some of his unruly hair. The fingers returned to their torment of his prick.

"Nnnnnnnnmmmmmoooo!" Harry cried, muffled. He was trying to pull away from the other, but the man simply lay down on Harry, his hard cock pressing against the youngster's crevice, and continued his ministrations.

The boy shook his head helplessly from side to side, tears in his eyes as he hardened. He began thrusting into the other man's grip, desperate to come.

The hand left him and he heard a softly spoken spell. His cock tingled. His balls clenched, but he stayed hard. Desperately he begged behind his gag.

The man in the cloak moved off Harry's body and left him entirely alone for a few moments. The Gryffindor had no warning that the other had returned. There was a whistling noise and a sharp "crack". Burning fire striped Harry's arse.

Again and again the whip fell, slashing across the pale skin, colouring it with red lines, until, abruptly, it stopped.

The boy sobbed, body tensed for the next blow.

Hot candle wax dripped across the youngster's damaged skin, smoothing over the welts as well as over the untouched skin. It cooled slowly, forming a protective coating over the youth's beaten area.

Harry bucked and screamed as the fluid burnt and stung at the same time. He thrashed; his head taut and proud, his chest pulling against the clamps holding it down, he wriggled from side to side, trying to dodge the relentless cruel treatment.

The cloaked person moved around to the bound figure's head. He fiddled with his robes and drew out a long, thick, hard cock. He untied Harry's gag and pulled his head up at an awkward angle for the boy but which meant his shaft would slide in easily.

"No," Harry panted, whispering.

But the other ignored him. He forced his length deep into the boy's mouth, ignoring the discomfort he read on the face. With a quiet, assured tone, he ordered what he wanted the other to do.

"Slide your tongue along my length. Yeeees! Now take it all in and suck hard. Harder. Suck hard. Su - oh, yes! Keep that going! Back off a little, just have my head. Uhhhhhh. Lick the slit. Not like that! Put some effort into it. A bit more pressure. Nnnnng. Ke-keep going. Lick there and suck as well. Oh. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCKKK!" The man screamed and jerked himself hard in and out of the boy's mouth. Fluid spurted out of the dick and hit the back of Harry's mouth.

"Swallow," he ordered, sounding a bit hoarse.

The Gryffindor followed the command and drank down the semen, lapping at the spent dick to get every last drop until his 'attacker' groaned and pulled free.

"Oh fuck!"

Harry awoke with a start - his bottoms were sticky and wet.

"Oh hell!"

I did not just dream that. I am not gay!

-- Thank you to my reviewers.

-- Hogwarts_tricksters, I don't understand what you mean. Please explain it in further detail!

-- Oh, I think Harry maybe in denial, hmm? SP
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Areas of Expertise