Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Freedom	By : Malfoypatriarch Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4515 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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
- 1-Freedom
- 1
Freedom

There was nothing outside of Dolohov's body when the man was
inside of him. There was nothing outside of Dolohov's world when the boy found
himself shoved into his bare room, his body worn out from the exertions, his
muscles were tired and aching, bruises seemed to be everywhere on his body, and
the blood loss was staggering. He felt dizzy and sick at these times, but it
was nothing compared to the fear of Dolohov's menace.

He had been careful before. He had watched his back, made every precaution to
stay safe. But his mother no longer resided in the Manor and until his father
died, that sanctity was not available to him. Dolohov had come for him in his
sleep, when he was the most vulnerable and unable to fight back.

Dolohov, in the boy's mind, was a coward.

He had been put through just about everything his mind could think of, but he
hadn't yet cried. Dolohov was disappointed. The whips were bloodstained and
tarnished beyond repair. The older man would have to order more. To punish the
boy for this, he had started using the chains. The strength in which he swung
them managed to break the boy's arm.

The boy had let out such ferocious howls of indignant anger and raging pain.
Dolohov had watched in fascination as the small human changed into something..not quite as human. The boy was only half, after all. But
the effect had been magnificent. Dolohov was quite sure that there was nothing so arousing as hearing a Veela scream at him to cease.

But he hadn't been rewarded with what he so longed for, the boy's tears. He had
gotten pleads and begging from the boy's lips. He had heard screams loud enough
to shatter glass. He had heard the threats, the bribes, the promises but he
still had yet to achieve his goal.

Dolohov wasn't interested in teaching, he was more
inclined by way of breaking. The boy was proving to be tougher than he first
expected. The child had, no doubt, been brought up on a diet of caviar, living
the good life. He had no right to hold back any sort of tears now when faced
with the grim harshness of reality.

Dolohov frowned at the boy as he put his cigar out on the blond's nipple,
causing another spasm of pain to rip through the child's body. The boy was
younger than seventeen, not quite at the age of consent. Not that Dolohov much
cared. He struck the boy across the face, knowing that he loosened a tooth with
that blow.

The child was pinned to the wall, tight ropes digging into his skin around his
wrists and ankles. Dried blood caked the boy's body, disappearing only where
the bondage gear was placed. Dolohov had tried nipple clamps, finding them a
useless gesture. Not enough pain for him. He had tried piercing them through
and was disappointed at only the wince he received. He settled for using them
as his own personal ashtray. Nothing compared to burns, after all.

She had been taught that early on.

The boy's chest was wrapped in constricting leather, leaving only his nipples
exposed, and not allowing him to take a full breath. Dolohov got the most fun
out of this piece of equipment when the boy was screaming. There was something..defective about the child. Heart condition, maybe, Dolohov
wasn't sure. He did know that the boy had trouble breathing at the worst of
times and that increased the boy's fear.

Dolohov knew that the child's fear wasn't enough for him, but it made a good
start.

He did not believe in breathplay, preferring to slam the side of his hand into
the boy's throat if the boy was breathing too harshly. The reaction gave
Dolohov a fond sense of fun as he saw the child gasp and wheeze, trying
painfully to draw air into his lungs.

The boy's hair was kept yanked back and away from the angry red cuts all over
his body. It wasn't until the end of their session that he allowed it to hang
freely and stick into the welts. The child's face seemed endlessly scarred by
red patterns, places where Dolohov had slapped or punched him. The child's neck
held scars where Dolohov had cut him with a razor sharp knife, threatening to
leave the child alone to bleed his life away if the boy wouldn't cry.

The child had maintained himself, anger the only emotion present behind those
gray eyes. Dolohov loved to see the boy's anger.

Dolohov knew how to evoke the Veela within the boy. 'Didn't
do men.' The child did now, whether he liked it or not, and Dolohov
loved how the boy would squirm, would try to get away from him when the older
man plugged the boy's arse with either his own cock or a specially crafted
dildo. He had fisted the child's cock, threatening to rip or cut it off and
then he would fist the boy's arse.

The child's groin had its own set of cuts, small circular ones where Dolohov
had traced his length with a small knife. The boy's testicles were in much the
same state. In order to force more sensation into the boy down there, Dolohov
took special pride in his variety of cock rings and ball spreaders.

The boy was fucked every time they met in one way or another. At other times,
Dolohov forced the child to suck him off after his own cock had been in the
child's arse. "That taste good?" He asked,
keeping his tone gentle as though to lure the boy into a false set of hope. The
boy was never given a chance to respond. He had gagged the first time Dolohov
had shot his load into his mouth and had been flogged on just about every inch
of his body for that. The boy had learned quickly how to displease Dolohov and
he gave in at every turn.

Except for the one where Dolohov wanted him to give in. He wanted to see the
boy cry. He wanted to see those tears mix with the blood that decorated the
boy's body and each night he didn't get what he wanted, he made damn well sure
that the boy wouldn't sleep.

He thought about giving up his own game and delivering the boy into the worst
sort of punishment imaginable. He would deliver the child, bound and gagged, to
his lover's house, dropping him off and letting her find him. Perhaps he would
do that.

His hand went down and jerked the boy's head up. Angry gray eyes glared up at
him as Dolohov looked down impassively. "You're going back home
soon," Dolohov growled, letting no sense of gentleness enter his voice as
his cock twitched and he urinated onto the boy.

The child's appearance was, no doubt, heard of, but the boy's father didn't
seem inclined to search for him, making Dolohov's job as the easier. He
scribbled out a note to his former student, telling her that he had found the
lost little lamb and for her to come alone to fetch him. She would come, he
knew. Even if she did go through with her threat and called for the Aurors, he
doubted the boy would rat on him. The child had more pride than sense.

And that would ultimately bring about his downfall. He would make his terms to
her and no other. All he had to do was sit back and wait.

The boy, for his part, had taken to curling up in the corner of his room, arms
wrapped around his legs, eyes staring blankly ahead. He knew this would end
soon, he just didn't know when exactly. But he could wait. He could wait and he
would remain himself.

Disclaimer: Rowling owns all. I only play in her playground.
- 1
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