Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Derailed	By : SickPuppy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 19739 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-I:I
- 2-I:II
- 3-I:III
- 4-I:IV
- 5-I:V
- 6-I:VI
- 7-I:VII
- 8-I:VIII
- 9-I:IX
- 10-II:I
- 11-II:II
- 12-II:III
- 13-II:IV
- 14-II:V
- 15-II:VI
- 16-II:VII
- 17-II:VIII
- 18-II:IX
- 19-III:I
- 20-III:II
- 21-III:III
- 22-III:IV
- 23-III:V
- 24-III:VI
- 25-III:VII
- 26-III:VIII
- 27-III:IX
- 28-Epilogue
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter Six: It seems no-one can help me now

Lucius walked along the cold corridors until he reached a door similar to that leading to Snape’s quarters. He pushed it open and stepped over the threshold and into the room. Once inside, Lucius closed the door. Then he moved to another door leading off from the main room, poked his head around, and pulled a bruised and bloodied Ron Weasley out of the small cupboard, a cruel smile hidden by the mask.

Lucius threw off his Death Eater’s cloak and mask, exposing his pale face with its evil grin to Ron. Ron’s blood ran cold. He already knew exactly what Lucius wanted to do to him; he'd already had his thighs forced apart and been raped by the bastard who had hissed in his ear the entire time that he was a blood traitor and that Ron had better pray he was a good fuck, or Lucius would go looking for Ron's sister.

The older man drew his wand from a pocket and prowled over to his victim. He knelt gently beside the boy and said, almost casually, “Sectum sempra.”

At once Ron screamed as his skin was sliced open with the magic. Lucius did not wave his wand wildly, instead he traced intricate patterns over the boy’s chest, circling the nipples slowly before slashing violently across them. Lucius watched in cruel fascination as blood spurted from the ruptured nubs. He bent his head and lapped at the fluid, smearing the thick red liquid over the heaving chest.

He carved delicate symbols and letters into the youth’s bloodied flesh, smiling viciously as Ron bucked and screamed, jerking frantically to try and escape the relentless flaying of his front. Ron thrashed desperately; a cornered animal seeking any way out he could. He shrieked and twisted, arms flailing, legs spasming as he sought some relief from the endless agony of the spell’s effects.

Lucius drew away, wand still held delicately. He seemed to be admiring his handiwork. He smiled in satisfaction, and turned his attention to the boy’s legs.

Ron’s hands pushed desperately at the other man, trying to re-direct his aim, trying to stop him, trying to do something to make it all go away.

“Are you denying me?” Lucus' voice was silky. “Would you prefer your blood traitor sister to receive my attentions instead? Or your blood traitor friend Potter? Which one would you rather I did this to?”

Ron sobbed and shook his head. He held out his hands pleadingly, asking for mercy that would never come. Lucius merely put his free hand over Ron’s face and pushed him down to the floor, holding him there as he again carved bloody designs into the pale skin. The palm was suffocating Ron, and yet still he fought. But now he was weaker; the sheer unceasing pain, combined with the blood dripping from innumerable cuts was taking its toll.

Lucius took his time on the boy’s legs, enjoying holding the fighting figure as he sliced open the skin, exposing the lacerated blood vessels beneath, each pumping their red fluid out of the cuts and over the helpless body, making it slick and warm. He moved lower, focusing now on the feet, and began tracing patterns on the soles, laughing as Ron shrieked and bucked. Lucius let him thrash, and merely resumed his operations once Ron stopped, gasping to draw breath into his aching body, exhausted with his efforts.

The pain reached a crescendo and Ron's eyes tilted back and he passed out. Whilst he was out, Lucius took the time to heal the cuts. He didn't lessen the pain, just healed the physical wounds so that he could enjoy torturing the youngster for longer without having him bleed out. Moaning, Ron came to, his eyes filling with horror as he saw Lucius still sitting there, his wand held elegantly and loosely between his fingers.

Lucius flipped Ron over, exposing the smooth, untouched back.

The lad screamed as the cold stone work scraped against his scarcely covered wounds. Ron shuddered and sobbed weakly. Even Lucius beginning his torture anew barely prompted more than a few pathetic struggles from the boy.

Malfoy sighed and drew away. He moved across the room and settled himself in a chair, waiting for the Weasley brat for regroup somewhat.

Ron lay, panting for breath, on the floor. His hands clutched uselessly at the flagstones, fingers shaking. He wanted to push himself up, to ease the agony in his front, but couldn’t. He whimpered and then mentally chided himself for his weakness. Whatever was going on here, he wouldn’t survive by giving in and whimpering like a hurt animal. These monsters knew neither pity nor mercy, so what use appealing to either? Ron would just have to be stronger than them all. He had to, he had to protect Ginny and Harry.

He put his hands firmly onto the ground, and pushed his chest clear. His arms shook violently, but he held on as he shifted his knees under him, and pushed himself almost upright. He turned his head to face the blond man, hating the weakness in his limbs that made him tremble, and glared defiantly at the Death Eater.

“Excellent,” Lucius said, “I do so enjoy meeting spirit. It's that much more satisfying when it is beaten out of you and you accept my treatment of you and thank me for it later.”

Ron pushed down nausea and despair. He wasn't going to give in. Lucius had tortured him for hours already. The respite he had gained with the older man out of the room had been little, as he had been forced to stand in a tiny room, spikes covering the walls, and not move lest he impaled himself. Alone, in the dark, Ron had been sure he was going to die. So, to discover he hadn't been left in that oubliette and was instead the attention of this man's sick attentions was relief and curse.

He stood and paced towards the boy, his wand held negligently between two long fingers. Lucius stopped less than three feet away from the lad, grey eyes speculative. “What shall we do next?” His eyes roamed around the room. “Why don’t you decide. After all, you are my guest.” He bent and grabbed Ron’s chin, nails digging into the skin. “So, Weasley, what shall we do? Shall I fuck your tiny brains out? Or teach you the true meaning of the word pain? Or show you how to service your betters?”

Although his stomach was churning, Ron kept his eyes steady. He glowered at Lucius and contemplated spitting at him, but doing so would have been suicidal. He coughed and sprayed a mouthful of blood by mistake. His eyes widened in horror.

Malfoy let go of Ron and pulled a delicate handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the fluid away. “That just cost you your choice. I shall ensure we do all three.”

He reached down and yanked Ron towards the wall. His precarious balance gone, Ron could only struggle as he was pulled to where Lucius wanted him – facing a stretch of wall that Ron knew all too well. The blond tugged on one of the boy’s arms, forcing him to stand. Then he pushed the wrist against a piece of metal standing proud of the wall, smiling as it magically snapped closed around the arm. The second arm was soon pinioned in the same way, which left only the legs. Lucius stood directly behind the younger man, nestling between the shaking thighs, his obvious erection pressing against the boy’s arse. Ron pushed forward, away from the unwelcome thing. He had too intimate an experience with that hardness already. His feet touched cold metal, and instantly the cuffs snapped shut around his ankles.

Lucius groaned, freeing his length, and rubbing it against the trembling body. “I think I deserve this,” he observed as he pulled the cheeks apart and slammed his length into the swollen channel.

Ron screamed as Lucius pumped in and out of him, movements jerky and painful. The cock battered his already throbbing bowels, tearing barely healed rents. His hips smacked against the wall with each relentless thrust from the older man, his shrunken cock mashed against the stones. Each time Lucius rammed into him, Ron slammed into the wall, leaving bloody trails and bits of skin behind.

Lucius shuddered and released into the damaged passage. He gasped and pulled free, still inflated length pulling painfully out of Ron’s swollen anus. He wiped himself clean and tucked his length neatly away before speaking, “Now, the fun begins.”

Malfoy moved away from Ron to reach up and pluck a long whip from the wall to the boy’s right. With loving care, the man flicked it, listening to the sharp ‘crack’ that resounded as it struck the stonework.

The boy flinched at the noise, terrified.

Lucius moved so that he was the best possible distance from his victim and swung the whip back. It slashed across the young man’s pale skin, raising welts almost immediately. The youth howled, head thrown back as his body juddered. It felt as if someone had scorched him with a flaming torch. He writhed, desperate to get away from the heat eating into his body.

The Death Eater brought his arm back and lashed forward again. This time the skin broke and blood welled up and over the sides of the raised reddened edges of the flesh. Lucius swapped the whip to his non-wand hand and aimed the stick at Ron’s back. “Defodio.” He murmured, watching as the spell struck the boy's bleeding cut and dug past it into the muscles and fat of his body. His insides were gouged out along the length of the wound, head thrown back, the red-head screamed, shaking in helpless agony. At last Lucius stopped the spell and watched as Ron sagged in his bonds, babbling pleas for mercy.

“Foolish boy.”

Lucius returned the whip to his right hand and striped harshly it across the lower portion of Ron’s back. This time he cast ‘Deprimo’ and watched as a smoking hole burnt its way all the way through the shuddering body. Ron shrieked and shook, staring in disbelief at the smoking hole in his stomach. He had never felt such torture. It felt to the traumatised man as if someone had cut him open and poured acid inside.

Lucius watched the other’s suffering for long moments. An expert at knowing just how long a wound could be left before it caused irreparable damage, he waited as the younger man bucked and cried uselessly for mercy he knew wasn’t coming. Idly Malfoy healed the wound, enjoying the way his victim screamed and begged. Then he raised the whip a third time. It slashed across Ron’s shoulders, branding him with a second of icy pain, then intense fire.

“Furnunculous.” Lucius said, aimed his wand at the raised skin. At once boils broke out along the red line. He smiled coldly and stepped in, jabbing at the boils in a random pattern so that each throbbed and pulsed across the lad’s skin.

Ron groaned weakly. “No more,” he begged. Somehow, the semi-familiar pain of something so normal as a boil was too much; it was wrong and out of place in this room of horrifying and unfamiliar torture. Remembering the last time he'd had a boil took him back to the Burrow and a fight with George. His brother had used this same spell on him and now here was Ron being tortured with it. And all he could do was hang here and take the throbbing as each lump was pressed viciously setting up sharp waves of pain that radiated along his skin and into his sore muscles.

“We’re barely up to ‘F’” chided Malfoy, walking away and returning with a shining silver knife. He sliced the first boil open, enjoying the boy’s moan of pain. One by one he either flicked the boil off altogether, or sliced it open slowly and painfully, allowing the poison to flow out and onto the skin, dripping slowly and relentlessly into any open wounds lower down.

Lucius seemed disappointed with the boy’s small reaction and so, for the last boil, stabbed the knife in, leaving it pressed between Ron’s shoulder blades. Malfoy was pleased with the Weasley’s response this time. The red head shrieked so loudly and so high and so long that his voice gave out. He thrashed wildly, sweat spraying across the walls as his wet face was thrown around in a useless attempt to dislodge the blade currently digging between his abused flesh, slicing past veins, and scraping continuously against his bones.

Lucius took a pace back and watched dispassionately as the blood traitor suffered. Aroused, the blond man reached between his legs to free his dick and rubbed there, grinding his palm against his thick length, eyes tilting back in his head as shudders of pleasure racked him.

He wanted to be inside the boy, and, he smiled cruelly, why should he deny himself? “Engorgio,” he said softly, pressing the tip of his wand against his throbbing shaft. At once his prick lengthened and thickened to impossible proportions. He admired the swollen size, idly handling the flared head, and digging a nail into the slit, shaking with pleasure. A thick drop of fluid smeared the tip. He slid his hand down and felt the throbbing veins, pulsing strongly with their desire to be inside his victim.

“Open up,” he urged, a mocking note in his voice, and pulled the tense buttocks apart and began forcing his oversized dick into Ron’s sore hole. Ron shook, blade scraping him painfully with each movement, but he had felt this cruel fleshy weapon within his ass before and it had smashed past his resistance and buried deep inside him, slamming deep into him and pulping his insides with its size and hardness.

At first Lucius met resistance from the abused entrance, but finally his strong grip on the bruised hips and forceful shovings won. He felt the incredibly tight grip of the passage around his swollen cock, gasping with pleasure as Ron howled and thrashed, finally dislodging the knife, utterly pinned on the massive prick tearing him open.

Lucius took his time, tugging free a little before rocking from side to side to widen the channel still further. His huge tip bashed against the walls of the passage, bruising Ron yet again internally. Glancing down, he saw trickles of blood coating his dick and smiled. He did so enjoy leaving a mark on his victims.

Ron hung there, trembling as his body was invaded and ruined. The cock nestled deep within his bowels, making him whimper in agony. And then Lucius began thrusting. He pound into the helpless body, ramming his enlarged prick again and again into the bloody passage. He growled as he lifted onto his toes, his balls pressing against the boy’s body, his cock as deep within the lad as it was possible to be.

Ron, impaled on that dreadful length, choked and sobbed as he was fucked with relentless cruelty. He struggled against his bonds, tearing the still fragile skin about his wrists. Blood flowed down his arms, rolling along the shaking limbs and onto his back to mingle with the drying blood from his whipping.

Lucius groaned with excitement and increased his pace, slamming more and more forcefully into his helpless victim, ripping the boy’s channel apart with his careless thrusts. Ron had been reduced to animal incoherent whimpers before Lucius finished with him, juddering and shooting his thick fluid powerfully into the unwilling channel.

He gasped for breath and released his tight grip on the hips. His massive sated length began to slide uncomfortably out of the wet passageway and slapped against his thigh, leaving a thick stripe of red along one trouser leg.

He moved away and cleaned himself, spelling the bloody remnants from his clothing. He reduced his cock back to normal size and tucked it away. Then he turned to face the boy and admired his handiwork. Ron hung, utterly limp, dangling painfully from the metal cuffs. Blood trickled down both arms, his shoulders and back were bloodied and striped with cuts from the whips. His buttocks were apart, showing the damage wrought to his gaping hole, and blood and semen flowed freely out of him, trailing down his thighs.

“I think you’re learning your place.” Lucius observed as he stepped close to the boy and punched one of the cuts on his back, re-opening the wound. Ron barely reacted even as fluid trickled over the raised edges of the welt. Looking disgusted, Lucius wiped his hand clean on his robes.

“Blood traitor. I want none of your foul stench to infect me. But perhaps I can enjoy playing with you; teaching you why being a blood traitor is disgusting. Friend of Mudbloods!”

Dangling limply, body bleeding and oozing semen, Ron did nothing more than cry silently.

“Hmm, I think further education is needed. I want you to scream, Weasley. Scream and beg for help you know will not come. Surely you cannot be broken so quickly? Where is all that vaunted Gryffindor courage?!”

Lucius flicked his wand slightly and muttered the spell he wanted. “Incendio” he murmured, enjoying the boy’s gasp of horror.

At once flames began to lick at the youth’s flesh, burning off the blood and the remains from the boils, before it began charring his damaged skin.

Ron screamed and screamed as the flames licked his back and began to burn their way into trembling muscles.

Lucius watched with curious detachment as the young man burnt before his eyes. He knew how long to leave it before Ron was damaged before repair, and so waited, arms crossed as he listened to the boy’s pleas, and watched the flames blackening and crisping the exposed flesh.

It was a pleasure to him to see the flames licking at the shrivelled dick and balls, burning red hair from the genitals and then biting into the soft loose skin.

“Finite,” he whispered, knowing Weasley wouldn’t hear it over the noise of the flames and his own terror.

The flames vanished, leaving behind the unpleasant smell of cooked skin. Ron wailed on, the agony from the flames still eating into his body even though they were gone.

Malfoy waited and waited until the worst of Ron’s shaking and sobbing had diminished and then cast his next spell. “Oppugno.” A flock of carrion crows flew from the end of his wand and settled onto and around his victim. They began tearing at the charred skin, sharp beaks digging past the smoking skin into the healthier muscles underneath and began pecking off the lad’s back. Unable to comprehend what was happening, Ron squealed and shook, mind breaking as one bird reached up from the floor and dug into his bloody thighs, sharp beak tearing through the skin to the spasming muscle beneath.

“No…no more…” he choked, jerking like a puppet on a string as beaks tore his flesh from him.

The blond looked disappointed. “Where is all that vaunted Gryffindor courage?” he sneered again, “Perhaps you have forgotten that what you refuse to do, the Weasley girl will suffer in your place. Or that precious Potter friend of yours.”

Ron bit back a sob. He couldn’t take any more of this punishment, he couldn’t. But could he make Ginny or Harry suffer it instead? He dropped his head, shaking with tears of hopelessness.

Lucius hissed with pleasure. This was what he had wanted, to make the boy finally realise his position – he was trapped, destined to suffer at the hands and whims of the Death Eaters until the Dark Lord decreed that the blood traitor should die. His grey eyes glittered. He banished the birds, their work done, and let the red head hang from his bonds, sore and defeated.

Eventually, Lucius would heal the wounds but still, he could watch the boy’s pain for a few more hours…
- 5
- 6
- 7
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