A Day in the Life of Lord Voldemort | By : Keshu Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 5752 -:- 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. |
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No, I don't own these characters. I'm sick of disclaimers. I wish I did own them, mind, because then they'd have proper dirty sex in the books... *grins* But yeah, no own, no profit etc etc.
Just for information.... I wrote this when I was meant to be writing clever answers to random questions in an Environmental Science A-Level... Moderately difficult when one knows fuck all about Environmental Science. This passed the time nicely, and it going to give whoever marks my paper one hell of a shock.
*laughs*
I hope you like it, it's so silly....
- Nix
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A long low room, deep in the bowels of a luxuriant house, the walls panelled with richly polished dark wood. A large black fireplace along the far wall, made of black Sicilian granite, with twin coiled white snakes picked out on it with purest snow-white marble from further up the Sicilian coast. Long dark rugs on the floor, covering over more of the black granite, which gleams dully in the dying light of the nearly spent fire. An ornate chair of old green leather, with polished wooden claw feet.
A skull whiter than bone, with waist length black hair plaited back in a loose swaying braid that hung down the back of his ornate, full length, black, oriental-style robes, the silk ones with the border of silver snakes chasing each other. Livid red eyes, bright with crimson fire, with vertical pupils like a snake, and a long lean form sat in the hair, fingers curled petulantly around his mouth.
Lord Voldemort was bored.
He sighed. He really hated being bored, the sheer monotony and lack of activity thrashing about on the inside of his skull. Even if he could have been bothered to retrieve his wand from the small table not far from the leather chair, he doubted highly that he could summon the energy to abduct some random Muggle and enjoy a spot of illicit and sadistically pointless torture. The prospect appealed somewhat, but today his heart just was not in it. He shifted in the seat and threw one leg over an arm.
Just then, he heard a rustling in the corridor beyond the half open door to the room, and Nagini’s diamond-patterned form, shining in the firelight, came slithering in, making a noise like raw silk rubbed harshly as he slid across the rough stone floor. Voldemort watched him until he was closer, calling to him in Parseltongue, until the six foot long snake was by his seat. He bent in his chair, one tendril on hair falling loose, and picked him up. The feeling of cool scales was soothing and he passed his long-fingered hands over the snake’s muscular length repeatedly, relishing in the silky feel. After a while, he transferred one of his hands to himself, and began to rub at his nipples through the thin fabric. The snake shifted across his and and his breath caught in his throat as his free hand fumbled with the catch of his robes.
‘Nagini,’ he muttered. Lifting what he could of Nagini for a moment, he slid them off him and threw them to the floor, leaving him clad in nothing more than a leather thigh high boots and a small leather thong. The snake slid gently over his skin again, and he moaned as his long fingers began playing with his nipple again, as the other hand resumed its slow, sensual stroking of the scaled form now easing its coils over his thighs and belly in an almost caressing movement. Voldemort moaned again, and untied the sides of his thong, as the leather was now beginning to form a rather uncomfortable tent, and the pressure on his straining erection was getting unbearable. He eased it out from between his legs and threw it down on top of the robes.
The tip of Nagini’s diamond patterned tail flickered lightly across the head of Voldemort’s hard cock; he arched his back into the soft leather of the chair and moaned softly.
‘Nagini, please,’ he croaked. The snake paused for a second and then slithered to the floor, where it lay still. An odd thing happened to time, and it seemed to suddenly speed up into bad stop motion photography, as the body of the snake widened and the tail bisected itself, beginning to form legs, and stumped of arms appeared and grew to form graceful limbs. Human features began to appear on the snake’s face and in a few seconds, where the six foot long snake had been lay a man. He was pale, almost as pale as the Dark Lord himself, with black hair down to his pointed jaw. He was shockingly thin, as he lay naked upon the granite floor, looking up at Voldemort with large green eyes, outline in eyeliner. He ran his tongue over his lips and motioned Voldemort forward with one lazy finger.
‘Nagini,’ he moaned again, as the green-eyed man nipped lightly on his neck. Voldemort felt an insistent hand on the top of his head urging him downwards, and he slowly licked and kissed his way down the pale body until he reached Nagini’s half hard cock. Taking it into his mouth, he began to lick, such and fondle Nagini until the man’s mouth was half open with pleasure. Voldemort scratched Nagini’s arsecheeks with his fingernails, making him groan, and then wormed those same fingers deep into the other man’s tight passage. Nagini began to thrust his hips deeply into Voldemort’s mouth, making him almost gag, and then pulled out abruptly.
Stepping away from Voldemort, Nagini kicked him onto his back and placed his feet either side of his face, squatting down and letting Voldemort reach up to clamp hands around his thighs and lick him deeply. Voldemort’s tongue danced lightly over his puckered entrance, before delving deep inside. Nagini tasted musty and bitter, and yet he moved his hands to spread the muscular globes and get deeper access. Nagini’s eyes fluttered as he moaned, and before long, he raised himself again.
‘On your knees, he commanded, and Voldemort, licking his lips with a smug expression got up onto hand and knees immediately. Nagini kneeled behind him, letting the head of his cock rest against Voldemort’s tight entrance.
‘I know what you do, Tom,’ Nagini said quietly. Voldemort twisted round, taken by surprise at the use of his childhood name. ‘I can smell him on you, I can smell all of them on you, Tom. Have I not told you before, that I do not approve of this? Have I not warned you?’ and with this he grasped Voldemort’s hips and thrust deeply inside him. Voldemort hissed between his teeth at the pain, and one small trickle of blood ran slowly down the milky whiteness of his thigh. Nagini began to move mercilessly, drawing cries of pain.
‘I do not like that man, Tom,’ he said, thrusting in and out of the whimpering Voldemort. ‘You will not play with him again. That Malfoy, and all those other playmates of yours are not allowed to share you. Whom do you belong to?’ there was no answer. Nagini hissed and yanked Voldemort’s head back with his plait, running a long fingernail sharply down his back, causing a raised and bloody weal.
‘Whom do you belong to?’ he bellowed.
‘You, m-master,’ Voldemort stammered, barely able to talk from his combined pain and pleasure. Nagini reached around him and began to fist Voldemort’s cock in time with his thrusts.
‘Again,’ he instructed curtly.
‘Y..you.. m-master— you, only you.’
Nagini made him scream it again and again, thrusting harder, taking no heed of the thicker trail of blood that now ran in a sticky line down his thighs. Some of it rubbed off on Nagini’s own skin, as he slammed his cock into Voldemort up to the hilt. He moved faster and faster and then came hard, eyes closed, moaning loudly as he pumped into Voldemort who, feeling Nagini shudder inside him, and in response to Nagini’s hand on his cock, came as well, shooting onto the pricelessly ornate carpet below them.
200 miles away, the boy called Harry Potter woke with a start, his scar throbbing and his stomach coated with his own orgasmic stickiness.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, not again!"
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