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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
AN: I didn’t lose interest in this one, just had some problems with dream sequences. If anyone wants to suggest crimes that they committed, for future chaps, I’m willing to forego some researching. . . . *Hint, Hint* This is a long chapter, as an apology to all who have waited patiently for it, and now I have updated all of my stories. If you are following others, go there now. Thanks in advance for any reviews you leave, on any of them.
unneeded: Harry's dreams will prove to be a challenge for him, and for me. As for Snape, and Tom, I have some ideas about the whole split soul issue. Bear with me, kay?
CeeCeeMee: Never thought of making Voldemort's redemption a spin-off. I might go there. Thanks.
Morbid_and_Sexy(Me too!) : Draco will beg for a lot more, in time. ;)
Yecatsj: I don’t understand AFF’s codes and such, so I’m no help. Sorry for the delay in updating, here’s another chap.
thrnbrooke: I’m glad to have given you that. Here’s another step on the path to my goal.
jujukitty: Draco’s punishments will be there, just keep reading.
Chapter Eight: Realization
Draco was practicing with his charms, floating several objects around the kitchen, when Harry and Lucius arrived in the morning. He lowered them gently, placing each where they belonged simultaneously, and bowing when they both applauded his efforts.
"Very good, Draco. Impressive." Lucius commended, as they sat down and the old elf put food in front of them. Harry watched silently, as the family spoke, talking about the possible outcomes of Draco's NEWTs and the future they could open for the boy. He was glad that Lucius was dealing with his son, like a father should, but began to feel left out. He tried not to dwell on his lack of family, and this was one of the times when it was too evident for him to ignore. He focused on his meal.
Severus was absent, though this was not unusual, and Kreacher announced that the potions master had left to tend to his own home, requesting the aid of Winky in his work. The little elf was so thrilled to be of assistance, that she'd put down her butterbeer and grabbed up a clean towel to put on. Kreacher was sure she'd be better with a family, and begged for no one to tell the Granger about it.
"Hermione won't stop her from helping, but she might try to get Severus to pay her for the work, so I'll keep my peace. I'd order you to do the same, but I don't think you'll be in contact with her for a bit, yet. She and Ron went on their honeymoon last week. They won't be around for a few more weeks. I've sent them to Europe for a tour, Paris, Rome, Athens and Berlin. It will take at least a month." Harry explained.
"Good idea, Harry." Draco said and he smiled. "But, how did you get her to go while they need to study for the NEWTs?"
"I sent a tutor along." Harry said with a smirk. "He'll keep them studying while they explore, or give Ron an excuse to try sneaking away from him. It will benefit both of them."
“Brilliant.” Draco surmised and Harry smiled.
“Lucius, I want you to work on cleaning up the basement. Severus tells me it’s safe, so just clear anything you find into a drum and move it to the door. Kreacher will take it up to the attic. Don’t mess around with any of it, cause I know you are vulnerable without your wand. Draco and I have to finish studying and some organizing we started yesterday.” With these instructions given, Harry tossed back the last of his juice and headed out the kitchen door. The two blonds stared at his back before resuming their meal.
While he waited for them to finish, Harry went to the parlor and stepped up to the floo. He had arranged for it to be connected to the central lines, but warded for anyone he didn’t want to come through. He tossed some powder in and called out softly, “Malfoy Manor.” And disappeared in a blaze of green fire.
He came out in the familiar sitting room where Narcissa had greeted him each time he had come through. He greeted her with a gallant kiss to her hand and a smile that spoke of many things. “Is my family well, Mr. Potter?” she asked and he smiled brighter.
“They are, indeed. Your husband looks ten years younger.” Harry assured her and she smirked.
“Not his best time of life, I’m sure. And my son? Does he also seem younger?” she asked.
“Draco is studying and working toward a successful end of his schooling. We plan on getting as many O’s as possible when we sit our NEWTs.”

“Enough of your cryptic words, Harry. What news do you bring me?” Narcissa asked as she led the way to a table that was set with a late breakfast. “I know you haven’t eaten, as usual. Do sit down and enjoy your meal.”
This dance had been performed between them for months. The early planning stages of his coup had included a great deal of influence by Narcissa Malfoy and she hated that she was cut out of this part of his plan. He sighed as he sat and prepared to fill her in on his progress.
It had surprised him that Narcissa had been the one to suggest punishments that included sex with the enthusiasm she had. She had admitted to Harry that her life with Lucius had lost its former emotional connection and that they had become nearly strangers in the same house. She knew that he harbored some odd lusts and thought that it would help Harry to make a connection needed to cause the purging dreams to come. It was brilliant and sneaky, like only a Slytherin could manage and he had gotten over his shock.
“Draco has only had one dream, but that is because I am hesitant to begin. I am uncomfortable with the idea of the connection becoming as strong as it will need to be. What if he begins to need me, and then cannot break free when he takes the antidote?”
“And this doesn’t bother you with Lucius?” she asked with a laugh.
“No. I think I could manage to continue for as long as he needs, and if we reach the end of the program, and he still wants to be with me, I could manage that as well. But, Draco and I have a bad history. What if he finds out how this came about and is angry, but has the connection and resents it. That would bother me too much. I don’t want to start to care, only to be rejected.”
“For one so set on doing something so grown up, you have an amazing childlike quality. Set aside your fears, Harry. Draco needs this, as does Lucius. Purge them and face the results like the Gryffindor you were meant to be.”

“And what if I wasn’t meant to be one? The hat suggested that I could go far in Slytherin.” Harry admitted.
“Perhaps, you could have. But, the hat put you in Gryffindor. You are far too brave to have been happy as a snake. Go home and come back when you have had your first dream. That is when we will have much to speak about.” And she rose and walked away, leaving him to finish his food and depart. Dismissing him quite efficiently.
Draco sat in the library when Harry returned and went to find him. He was studying ancient runes and Harry knew that the book was more advanced than what Hermione had taken with on her trip. “Are you that far along?” Harry asked and Draco looked up with a smile.
“This story if fascinating. It’s about two Greek brothers, twins, that were hatched from an egg.”
“Castor and Pollux.” Harry surmised and Draco frowned at him.
“How did you know? Can you read runes?” the blond asked.
“No. The story was told at the school I went to before Hogwarts.”
“You went to a muggle school?” Draco asked.
“Yes. How did you think I learned to read and write?” Harry chuckled.
“I didn’t realize you did, or is that what you call that scratching you do on parchment?”
“Very funny. Come on. We have something to finish from yesterday.” Harry turned and lead the way up the stairs to the door where Draco froze for a few seconds. “You aren’t scared, are you? You wanted this, yesterday.”
“No. I’m not scared. I just didn’t realize you had changed your mind. I was under the impression that you weren’t going to . . .”
“Wrong impression. Come on, go in. Oh, and give me your wand.” Harry held out his hand and Draco passed the wand over, his hand lingering in the air for a second. Inside, Harry took his arm and drew him to the stock and lifted one of the chains. “Take off your clothes.” Harry ordered and Draco slowly complied.
When Harry had locked the final chain in place, Draco was stretched out, his arms above his head and his legs bent to accommodate the raised bar. His feet were fastened into the stocks and spread so that his hole was exposed. Harry was debating about gags, weights or clamps and the blond was watching him silently. He finally chose a ball gag, two nipple clamps and a parachute ball weight that could be adjusted to hold more or less as one thought necessary.
“Here is where the pain begins, but the pleasure is at my discretion. I’ll decide once these are all in place. Don’t make any sounds, until I say you can and only call me Master while I’m working. Do you understand? Nod if you do.” Draco nodded and Harry began to attach the hardware to his chest.
When the majority of the devices were in place, Harry stared at the gag for a bit, then tossed it back onto the nearest table top. “I think we'll forgo that. What good is my telling you to call me Master, if you can't speak?” the question was rhetoric, so Draco only nodded. Harry brought over a stool and a box that he placed on the floor beneath Draco's arse.
“Master?” the blond whispered and Harry looked up.
“Ask?”
“Will the dream be worse, if the pain is worse?”
“I don't know. I only know it will be based on the thoughts during the punishment. Do you want it to be less?”
“Is the purging better, if the dream is worse?”
“I believe it is.”
“I'd like it to be worse.”
“Then you'll need to think of the worse thing you've ever done. Can you? I'll try to make the punishment fit the crime, if you tell me.”
Draco was silent for a few moments. His eyes scanned the ceiling and Harry reached into the box and pulled out a handful of the small lead weights. “Fifth year. While we were, while I was in the Inquisitors squad, there was a third year Ravenclaw boy. He was peeking into the shower room while some of the other boys were cleaning up from a flying practice. It was after Umbridge canceled quidditch, and I caught him. I called him names, accused him of depravity and then I . . . I raped him, told him that was all he'd be, a bottom for some pure-blood that liked this sort of thing. I didn't care that he was crying, screaming in pain, because I had power. I've heard him scream in my dreams before.”
“Do you know what happened to him later?”
“No. I only knew that moment.”
“What was his name?”
“Tyrone Bloodstone. He was the third son of Lord Bloodstone, who was neutral during the war.”
“I'll try to find out for you, if you want.”
Draco nodded and Harry sighed.
“Keep his face in your mind. Remember his screams and feel his tears on you fingers. You have to remember the worst parts, the pain he felt, the blood . , it was probably damaging to a third year, and how it may have affected him afterwards. Your feelings at the time are irrelevant, so don't justify it in your head. It's your crime, not anyone else's.”
Harry chose the largest weights and began to attach them to the parachute that hung from Draco's balls. When he had five dangling, he nudged them and they swung slowly. Draco tried to keep silent, but a whimper came to him. Harry looked up and nodded. He put on two more and held them steady. He put the rest in the box and narrowed his eyes. This was not the way he would have like to start, but the crime was demanding it. He sent a scourgify into the blond's hole, knowing the scrubbing of the spell would be a warning to his slave, but not much. He put his wand down and shoved his finger into Draco without preamble of lube or voice. The blond screamed.
“Do I need to gag you?” he asked and Draco shook his head, the tears that began to drip down his face were testament to the effect. “I promise you punishment enough to purge, but I will show you the pleasure part, too.”
Draco nodded and Harry pulled his hand back, added a second finger and pushed them in. The burning sensation would surely be driving the blond to pull away, but he held still, even more still than the bonds would cause. Harry pulled his finger out of him, added another finger and began to thrust them in and out of the bound boy. Draco was grinding his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut and tears streaming down his face. Harry hated this part.
“Keep your eyes on me.” he ordered and used his free hand to collect up another of the weights. It pulled the parachute tight and Draco flinched just a bit. "Remember Tyrone. He couldn't get away. It was painful and he cried. What did you say to him?”
“I called him a pouf, a wanker and a whore. I told him that his arse would become public property when the Dark Lord was ruler. He'd bend over and take it from anyone that wanted.”
The words came out in strained sentences, but Harry focused on one particular. “When the Dark Lord ruled? That was before anyone believed he was back.”
“Not me. I knew you told the truth. I knew he was back, and I was scared, and a little thrilled.”
“Why?”
“Because of you.”
Harry let this drop, but he would revisit it later. “What else did you say to him?” his fingers sped up, imitating the moves of his body when engaging in this activity.
“I said it would . . .ugh! . . . it would be sweet. He would be . . oh. . Ah! ..be my bitch.”
“And here you are.”
“Here . . I . . am.” Draco agreed. Harry was now shoving his fingers at a speed that kept the blond from clear speech, and his jaw was clenching to maintain silence when not speaking. Now was when he was ready.
“And do you know what the worst part is?” Draco shook his head. “The worst part is that you got off. You came, didn't you?” Draco nodded, fear now filling his eyes. Fear and regret. “But, you are lucky. I'm not the boy you were.” and Harry leaned forward, engulfing the lax length of flesh in his mouth, letting his tongue circle and tease, while his fingers slowed, digging deep and finding the other boy's prostate.
Draco jumped and Harry smirked around the rising tool. His other hand toyed with the flesh of Draco's thigh, up the jointure of his leg and hip, and across the expanse of belly. Draco's organ filled rapidly, his body reacting naturally to the stimulation. The sounds of his moans, the slapping of flesh when Harry's hand pushed in and the wet sound of his mouth on the other's dick, filled the silence. He pulled off for a second, whispering in Parseltongue, then repeating in English, “The pleasure isn't the best part, is it?”
Draco's eyes, forced to remain open by Harry's command, stared at him in horror. He shook his head and Harry smiled. He stroked the shaft as he licked the tip, lapping up the drop of precum. “You'll come again, Draco. This time, you'll come because I force it from you. It's not like a rape, but the pain makes it more intense. Now. Come for me.” he ordered, his one hand shoving inside while his other grabbed the weights and pulled down.”
Draco screamed and climaxed, his spunk flying high and landing on his chest and neck, nearly hitting his own face with ejaculate. He spasmed for minutes, crying out and gasping when he was nearly spent. “More!” Harry shouted and the organ, forced to comply, sent another volley of cum, accompanied by a gurgled scream. Draco twitched under his hands, but Harry narrowed his eyes and, just as the blond was drawing in much needed air, he snapped. “Again.” and the tool shot up, pumping out a smaller spray, this time splattering Draco's cheek and left eye. The cry was hoarse and the body jerked like a marionette, until Harry let go of the weights and yanked his fingers free. At this, Draco gasped and collapsed. Harry stood, releasing the clips from his slave's nipples, tossing them into the drawer and undoing the parachute in one move. The weights dropped into their box and were all put onto the table with the discarded gag.
“Rest, then you'll need to eat. I've got to arrange for your dinner, and check on Lucius, but I'll be back.” and the savior exited the room, leaving the blond bound to the stocks.
Lucius had never done manual labor before, so he was sweating and filthy, his arms aching and his legs stiff. He had cleared an entire section of the basement, piled ten boxes of junk into the entry and swept the cleared floor. He was on his knees, a brush in his hand and a bucket at his side, scrubbing the floor, when Harry came to the doorway. The Chosen-one walked the area, not caring that he dirtied the floor that Lucius had just cleaned. “You've done well. I'll have Kreacher take this away and when the floor is finished, he'll bring you down some dinner. When you've eaten, go to bed. Oh, and bathe, first.”
With that, he left, earning a glare from the slave, who set about cleaning the footprints left by his master.
Draco was becoming worried at how long it was taking for Harry to return, when the door opened and his Master came in. He released the stocks and helped Draco to stand, but his legs were cramped, so he had to lean on the dark haired wizard. Harry guided him to the door and into the hall. He balked for a second, not wanting to be caught, naked and limping, but Harry assured him. “No one will come up here. Severus isn't home and Lucius is in the basement. Come on, your lunch is in your room. I've put some healing potion in your juice, like the last time, so you'll feel better, soon.”
In his room, Draco noticed a difference immediately. His closet was open, and there appeared to be more clothes than previously, and his bed was covered in a familiar quilt, that had been his in his room of the manor. “What?” he tried to ask, but his throat hurt.
“When you are good, you get a reward. Your father got his clothes, and so should you. Plus, Kreacher says it will be cold tonight. Now, sit here, so that the healing potion can work before you sit on that lovely quilt. After you eat, I want you to take a bath, so that you'll be completely relaxed. I've forgone the sleep potion, tonight. A light sleep isn't conducive to the dreams, but you'd fall asleep in the bath if I gave it to you with the juice. If you like, I'll give you one when you come out.”
“I would.” Draco croaked.
“Okay, I'll go get it. You may need help with that bath, too.”
Harry returned before Draco had finished his steak and potatoes, and watched as the blond ate his vegetables and drank the rest of his juice. When he put down his utensils, Harry rose and helped him to his feet. The bathroom was the next door down the hall, and it was already steamy from the hot water and smelled of sandalwood and herbs. The tub was the size of a small pool, not as large as the prefects bath, but bigger than a muggle tub.
Draco wasn't sure how he would manage the bath, as his legs were still stiff and his arms barely had the strength to hold him in a sitting position. Harry helped him to the side, lowering him onto a bench nearby. “Patience, sweet. Let me get ready.” Draco looked up to see Harry smiling as he pulled his jumper over his head and stripped off his trousers. When his master was down to his boxers, Draco looked away. “No. I said, look at me. Remember. It still stands. I'm not going to do anything more to you. You couldn't handle it, right now. So, relax.” Draco's eyes flowed back, up strong but shorter legs, to hips that framed a lax cock and darkly haired balls. Those hairs trailed up, stopping for a break at a navel that based a six-pack of muscles, tanned by the sun. It seemed impossible for Harry to be so dark, living in the gloomy England weather, but the proof was there, only hiding under some sparse dark hairs on his chest. Above this, on a thick neck of corded muscle, sat the face of his master, watching him with amusement and concern. Draco smiled weakly.
Harry nodded, came forward and helped the blond to his feet. He walked him over, helped him into the tub and followed, sitting down and pulling Draco to sit between his thighs. “I can bathe myself, P-Master.”
“And likely drown trying. Sit still.” and with that order, Draco suffered himself to be washed, everywhere, and worst his body reacted to this treatment. He relaxed fully in his master's arms, even laying back to have his hair washed with sweet rosemary shampoo, and then rinsed with a lemon infusion. He was soon resting against the Chosen-one's shoulder as Harry scooped water up and dribbled it over his chest and shoulders. “Are you ready to go to bed?” Harry asked and Draco stiffened, in more than one way. “To sleep.” Harry qualified and Draco could feel the blood suffuse his skin. He nodded and Harry pushed him to his feet, guided him out and toweled him off.
“You do a lot of things in the muggle way, don't you?” Draco asked.
“Yes, I do. But, don't think that means I forget I'm a wizard. I just have some preferences. Drying charms aren't good for the skin, cleaning charms can be harsh. This is better than using a lot of softening potions, isn't it?”
“I don't know.” Draco admitted. “It feels strange.”
“You are far too used to having elves care for you. Now, let's get you to bed.”
Draco walked the dungeon in a dark castle, his clothing tattered around what little it covered and his body caked with filth. He passed cells full of boys, mostly younger than him, that looked up hopelessly. He paused in front of one, a blue-eyed boy of thirteen, and a rough hand shoved him forward. “You aren't the Lord's favorite anymore, so don't start acting like you have privileges. Move, slut!”
The halls were long and his legs hurt, but he knew that at the end of these halls the real struggle would begin. Once there, he was put into a cylinder of glass on a wheeled platform and his clothes were removed. The door ahead was opened and he was rolled into the middle of the gathering. At the front of the room, on a raised dais, stood a man in a black robe with a hood covering his head. His face was hidden and Draco shivered at the sight.
“He's dirty. He needs a shower.” the Lord called and three of his henchmen lifted buckets of water, dumping them onto Draco inside of his glass case. The water was cold and stung him like ice, but the smell of cleaning agents filled his nose. It was the smell that he remembered from the elves cleaning the floors of the manor.
“Better.” the Lord said and Draco looked down to find himself spotless, though haggard and emaciated. The only place that he wasn't thin, was the middle of his belly where a bump rose, looking like the poorly nourished children from Africa he'd seen in a brochure once, while walking through muggle London with his parents. He put his hand to his belly and jerked it back. It seemed to move on its own, like there was something inside of him.
“Yes, boy. That's right.” the Lord said, but didn't elaborate. “Now, let's see if we can make it bigger, eh? My loyal subjects. Bring him.” and the henchmen pulled him from the case and dragged him to the dais. In front of him, where he'd seen a throne before, was a massive bed with black satin sheets. He was forced down, face first onto the bed and a pillow was thrust under his hips. His hands were held by two men, at the sides of the headboard, while something moved behind him. There, just within the corner of his vision, he saw the Lord holding onto his cock, but it wasn't a normal organ. It was huge and long and had the head of a snake, hissing and spitting and whipping around its forked tongue. Draco tried to struggle, but he was weak and the men at his arms were strong. Suddenly, the snake darted forward, breaching his arse and swelling inside. “That's right, my pet. Lay your eggs and when they hatch, this will feed them.”
Draco screamed as his hole was stretched and his belly grew, billowing out like a pregnant woman, and the lumps looked like so many spheres battling for position in him. He screamed again and again, fighting against his restraints as the Lord laughed and the crowd of minions cheered and clapped. The snake swelled more, as it exited, curling around his balls and crushing them. It opened it mouth, unhinging its jaw and just as it was about to strike, devouring his manhood, Draco was pulled into the arms of his master, soft stroking hand in his hair and a strong body to lean into.
He was hyperventilating, and Harry tried to calm him. “It was a dream, Draco. Just a dream. Relax. It's over.”
“No! The snake. Its eggs are in me.” Draco gasped and Harry leaned back. He looked down to see his belly as smooth as it had always been, his flesh still thick with muscles and enough fat to show health. “It was . . . here. . .” he said as he lay the palm of Harry's hand on his tummy.
Harry smiled, not a mocking smile, but a sympathetic and understanding one. “Much as I would love to see what you would look like with a baby in your belly, Draco. That was the dream. Now, tell me about it.”
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Bound and Gagged