Gift for k8matty!
Recipient: k8matty
Author: kamerreon
Title: Sold Before Birth
Pairings: Harry Potter/Scorpius Malfoy, canon side pairings
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Post-DH, slash: male/male, implied past het: male/female, adult language, mindfuckery, angst, dub-con that borders on non-con, D/s, age disparity (43/17), thoughts of sexual intimacy with an underage person, wanking, branding, collaring, breath play, oral, blood, bondage, suspension, biting, anal, violence, contemplations of torture, utter control of every aspect of a child’s life, physical/emotional/mental abuse (depending on how you view it), and dark!bastard!Harry.
Word Count: 5,067 words
Summary: In exchange for freedom-no Azkaban and no dementors-the Malfoys promised Draco Malfoy’s firstborn son to Harry Potter.
Notes: k8matty, it’s been a pleasure to pinch-hit for your request. This isn’t within a light-year of my normal fare, but I’m satisfied with how it turned out. This story is twisted, dark, and fucked up. I’d like to thank A. and M. for editing.
Sold Before Birth
Harry Potter sat up in bed, letting the sheets tumble to his lap as he stared at the misty, hovering message in the air. Today was the day that he could finally collect what belonged to him. Smirking, he shoved the covers aside and stepped from the bed as naked as the day he was born.
Almost two decades ago, he had struck a deal with the Malfoy family: Harry would ensure none of them went to Azkaban or were Kissed, and in return they would gift him with Draco’s firstborn son once the boy graduated from Hogwarts.
Of course, there were other stipulations-how the boy was to be raised (submissively), who he could associate with (no one), and what he should believe (he belongs body and soul to Harry Potter).
He hadn’t been foolish enough to take their word for it, though. Harry had forced each Malfoy to make an Unbreakable Vow; they did so readily. Each of them loved their own life more than a hypothetical child that didn’t even exist yet. It’s what Harry had counted on. Besides, Draco could always get his wife to birth him an heir after the child was born, for it certainly wouldn’t belong to the House of Malfoy.
Twenty years was a long time to wait, but Harry was patient in this matter alone. Thanks to the Hallows, he literally had all the time in the world. And thanks to the Malfoys, he wouldn’t be spending it alone-the boy would serve as his unchanging and eternal submissive.
“Someone just for me,” Harry purred as he padded into the shower. He stared at the mark of the Hallows on the back of his right hand: a line inside a circle inside a triangle. They had merged with his body the moment he defeated Voldemort, and he hadn’t aged a day since. The Stone and Deathstick had even gone so far as to remove all his scars and fix his eyesight.
“Someone who’ll serve me. Someone who can’t leave me.” The words caused the flesh between his legs to sit up and beg. Harry trailed his hands tauntingly along his prick, imagining smaller, slender hands in their place; they would be pale and smoother than silk.
“It’s been too long,” he growled. Harry rarely left Potter Manor. Doing so only allowed mindless, weak wizards and witches chances to harass him. But he hadn’t been able to resist the urge to see his future submissive when the boy first went to Hogwarts.
The Invisibility Cloak had shifted over his skin, keeping him from sight as he had stared at the blond hair, lowered gray eyes, and pointy chin. The child was beautiful-delightfully so. As the boy stood next to Draco and his mum-whom Harry didn’t recognize-Harry had imagined coaxing the boy’s mouth open and fucking it right there on platform nine-and-three-quarters.
He wanted to feel those small hands fist his cock and tug him to completion, as his own was doing right now. Harry arched his hips, shoving his prick through the curve of his fingers; it wouldn’t be long now until that was the boy’s duty-until fulfilling every kinky fantasy Harry had ever had was the boy’s duty.
“You’re going to be so fucking tight!” hissed Harry.
If magic didn’t stop underage wizards and witches from participating in more than snogging, Harry likely would’ve caved when the boy was thirteen or fourteen. He would’ve slipped right through the wards around Malfoy Manor, stripped the boy, and stuffed his cock inside the pert, pink hole. But that was a magical law even Harry Potter couldn’t evade, and he had promised the Malfoys they could keep and train his submissive until the boy graduated from Hogwarts.
He hadn’t wanted to chance the vows breaking if he changed his mind or tried to cheat the vow.
Harry hadn’t saved the magical world and lived this long in solitude to lose his reward. His thumb brushed across the head of his cock, nail dragging across the slit, and his come shot from his body and bathed the wall of the shower as pleasure spiked through him. He licked the seed from his Hallow-marked hand and thought, This is the last time I’ll have to pleasure myself.
Smirking wickedly, he tossed his head back and scrubbed his hair and body clean. After turning off the water, he stepped from the shower and onto the heated tile floor. A stretch before the floor-length, unfogged mirror on the wall showed he was as fit and battle-ready as the day he had defeated Voldemort decades ago.
There had been a short time after the final battle, before he had made the deal with the Malfoys, when he had shagged his way through a plethora of witches and wizards. However, they were never what he wanted; they didn’t know how to take direction. He just wanted them to shut the fuck up and take what he was giving them.
Now someone had been handcrafted to do just that. He couldn’t wait to test his submissive out.
Harry chuckled as he waved a hand, drying himself off. Then, feeling excited and pleased with himself, he wandered back into the bedroom. Getting dressed only took a few minutes of his time, for he had long become accustomed to donning formal dress robes; they were a sign of his station, proof of his power, and he wasn’t going to let anyone forget who he was.
Just Harry-the weakling who let Muggles abuse and control him-had died decades ago. Lord Harry James Potter-Master of the Hallows and Death-never had any trouble getting what he wanted. Only a fool would deny him anything.
The robes were blacker than onyx and trimmed in emerald green, his family crest emblazoned across the back-informing all and sundry of whom exactly they had the honor of seeing. It was one of the symbols of his power, and he intended to mark his submissive with it.
“Soon, so very soon,” muttered Harry as he lifted the wide jewelry box off the top of his bureau. He flipped up the velvet gray lid and beamed at the contents. The goblins had done precisely as he demanded-not that he expected anything less. The box held a collar: wide mithril links engraved with runes; from the front-most link hung the Potter coat of arms on a shield-shaped mithril charm. The coat of arms was crafted of pristine gemstones. Overall, the collar cost more than most people’s houses.
Harry had ordered it the same day he first saw his submissive on platform nine-and-three-quarters. It had taken the goblins two years to make it to his specifications. The night he got it, Harry wanked over the links, splattering it with his seed as he imagined it encasing the pale, slender neck he had seen not long ago.
Bathing the collar in his semen became a favorite pastime as the months and years turned. Harry Potter and his magic had been ever possessive of what belonged to them, and the Malfoy boy would be theirs in every possible way.
His prick swelled as memories surfaced in his mind. His body was eternally young, and his recovery time allowed him to climax whenever he sought to do so. Today he would seek satisfaction in the body of his submissive for the first time.
Yes, finally. Harry closed his eyes as the smooth robes rubbed across his prick. It ached and needed as much as he did; regretfully, he forced his magic to quell the desire. He wouldn’t allow the Malfoys to see how obviously needy he was.
The still hovering numbers informed him that the Hogwarts Express had reached King’s Cross Station two hours ago. The Malfoys should’ve long since returned to their manor. It was time for him to collect his property. Harry turned on the spot and Disapparated to Malfoy Manor.
***
A house-elf appeared before him, hands raised, but they dropped as soon as it saw who Harry was. “Lord Potter! I wasn’t knowing it was you, my Lord. Klof wasn’t meaning to be attacking Lord Potter.”
Harry wrinkled his nose the slightest bit and waved his hand dismissively. “I’m here for my submissive.”
The house-elf bowed until its ears brushed across the floor. “Yes, my Lord. They is all being in the parlor. This way, my Lord.” It practically had to run to keep up with Harry’s long strides, even though it was leading the way. It pulled open an ornate door and announced, “Lord Potter’s here for Submissive Scorpius.”
Perfect. Another of the many stipulations declared that the boy could never be referred to as ‘Master’. Harry didn’t want him to get any ideas above his station, which was at Harry’s feet or wherever else Harry wished for him to be.
The occupants of the parlor sat bolt upright when he entered the room, and Harry’s eyes skipped over the other fair-haired children as he looked for his boy. And there-what had the house-elf called him? Ah, Scorpius! Scorpius sat on a low chaise, off to the side, eyes downcast and not within reach of anyone else in the room.
“Lord Potter,” Lucius said before inclining his head and setting down his teacup. “We’ve been expecting you.”
“Lord Malfoy,” replied Harry mockingly. “As you should. You’ve fulfilled your end of the bargain, I expect?”
“Quite,” Narcissa answered. “I’m sure you’ll find Scorpius is an undeniable submissive of superior quality. He’s been trained to your specifications, Lord Potter.”
“We’ll see about that.” Harry snapped his fingers and Scorpius immediately got off the chaise and walked to his side, avoiding physical contact with his family members. “Not bad,” said Harry when Scorpius stopped beside him, eyes trained on the Persian rugs.
“Mummy, where’s Scorpius going?” a little blonde girl asked.
Narcissa hushed her. “Scorpius is no business of ours, Adara. He belongs to Lord Potter; I’ve told you that before, young lady.”
When Scorpius didn’t flinch at the words, Harry couldn’t keep a smug smirk from curling his lips. That and Draco’s silence made this whole situation seem like a victory as grand as when he had slayed the greatest Dark Lord of all time. Scorpius’s mother’s eyes were averted, hands fisted at her side, and that pleased Harry all the more. He had suffered so much for others; it was time for others to suffer for his comfort.
Harry encased Scorpius in his arms-hard enough that the young man could never hope to escape even if he wanted to-and stared right into Lucius’s eyes. “If he’s not satisfactory, I’ll forward the evidence to the Ministry. Let’s hope for your sake that you kept your word.” Before anyone had a chance to reply, he spun on his heel and Disapparated.
Once they reappeared in his bedroom, Harry released Scorpius and started circling him. The robes he wore were gray, but the crest on the back of them was the Potter family crest. Good. Harry couldn’t have the boy thinking he was actually a Malfoy. Nothing had ever belonged to a Potter more than Scorpius belonged to him.
“Strip.”
Nimble fingers swiftly unlatched all the clasps on the formal robes; they slithered down slender shoulders to puddle on the floor. As expected, other than the small thatch of curls around the limp, pale prick, Scorpius didn’t have any hair on his body. Harry stroked his cheeks and chin just to be sure-they were smooth and stubble free. The Malfoys must’ve cursed it off.
Harry placed a hand on the angelic blond curls and sent a spell tumbling down Scorpius’s body. Numbers appeared above his head. His weight was healthy, and his height was exactly what Harry had wanted it to be: five-foot-five. Harry was only six-foot himself, and he had wanted someone smaller than him; Scorpius fit the bill nicely. He briefly wondered how many Dark rituals had been necessary to ensure specified growth-how painful it must’ve been-but only for a moment.
The path Scorpius had been forced to walk to get here didn’t matter; all that mattered was that his submissive was now here. Harry leaned down, lips brushing the shell of one ear, and said, “This is going to hurt.” He turned his right hand over and pressed the back of it to Scorpius’s right arse cheek. The Hallow mark glowed hotly and then branded him. The scent of burning flesh tainted the air, but vanished moments later once the Hallows healed the brand into a shiny silver mark.
Scorpius whimpered, and the sound went straight to Harry’s cock. Such a sweet, innocent sound of pain. It was music to his dark soul. His fingers trailed across the mark, caressing his brand. It would guarantee Scorpius’s immortality and make him unavoidably submissive to Harry’s every whim-no matter how dark, painful, or perverse.
Harry stepped back and clapped his hands once; Scorpius fell gracefully to his knees. “Good boy.” Harry stroked his hair, fingers tangling in the blond curls. After a moment, he fisted his hand and yanked Scorpius’s head back. A soft yelp escaped pale pink lips. “I wanted to be gentle with you the first time,” Harry confessed, “but I’ve waited too long.”
A flick of his wrist removed his formal dress robes and returned them to his wardrobe. A beckoning finger sent the velvet box on his bureau floating over into his hand. Harry opened it and removed the collar; he dragged the mithril links across his jutting erection, sighs of delight slipping from him as the smooth, cool metal met heated flesh.
“I’ve fantasized about this for years, Scorpius. Did you know that?” Harry teased the shield charm across the head of his leaking prick. “I wanted to Apparate into your bedchamber, work you open, and claim every hole you own as mine.” He felt a shiver run through Scorpius’s body and glanced off to the side before grinning wolfishly. “Magic kept you away from me. Kept your small hands, pink tongue, and virginal arse out of my reach. But no more,” snarled Harry.
He unhooked the latch and slid the collar around Scorpius’s throat. It swallowed his entire neck, covering it from just beneath his chin down to his collarbone. Once it was in place, Harry pressed the back of his right hand against the latch and let the Hallows meld it into place. Nothing would be able to remove it now-not even a beheading.
“So you’re going to make up for Magic’s law.”
Harry walked around to Scorpius’s front, thick cock flushed red and dripping semen onto the floor. He cupped Scorpius’s jaw oh-so-tenderly in his hand and then said, “I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to answer: ‘Yes, Master.’ Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” Scorpius whispered. His voice was rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in months. The raspy quality made Harry’s cock leap and bump against Scorpius’s chin, smearing wetness along his pale skin.
“Will you suck my cock, Scorpius?”
He gulped and averted his eyes. “Yes, Master.”
“Good boy.” Harry’s thumb brushed across a plump lower lip, and then he petted Scorpius’s curls again. “Now open your mouth and let me have it.”
As soon as those lips parted, Harry shoved his cock inside as deep as it could go. Scorpius choked on it, much to Harry’s relief. He had worried that the Malfoys would go against his wishes and train Scorpius in this manner, hoping it would please him. He didn’t want his submissive to practice on anything but his own cock.
“Curl your lips around your teeth,” Harry instructed as he stuffed himself into the wet heat. “Lick along the l-length.” He groaned as Scorpius followed the directions despite his obvious pain and discomfort. The boy’s hands were fisted atop his thighs, nails forming imprints in his skin. But he was taking it-just as Harry wanted.
“You’re going to take all of me, Scorpius,” purred Harry, hands carding through his hair. “That’s what you were made for.” He smirked into wide gray eyes. “Now swallow,” Harry ordered before stuffing his substantial erection into Scorpius’s mouth and down his throat. He ignored the choking and spluttering sounds, repeating, “Swallow, boy.”
When Scorpius obeyed, the choking noises ceased, though his body trembled desperately.
Harry withdrew enough so that his submissive could breathe deeply, but kept the head of his cock back far enough that tonsils caressed it. “See, it’s better if you just listen. It hurt less when you swallowed, didn’t it?”
Scorpius nodded slightly, tears pooling at the edges of his eyes and clinging to blond lashes.
“Exactly. Master knows best,” Harry chided. Then, deciding Scorpius had been given more than enough of a reprieve, he hissed, “Swallow,” before sticking his massive prick back down the spasming throat. The boy swallowed right away this time, and kept swallowing as Harry remained jammed down his esophagus. The contractions of his throat brought intense pleasure to Harry, better than he had imagined in years of wanking.
In the past, not one of his lovers would obey his commands to calm the fuck down and let him do what he wanted. So far, Scorpius was performing up to expectations. Perhaps the Malfoys wouldn’t let him down after all.
This time when he pulled out, he thrust right back in-over and over and over.
When the corner of Scorpius’s lip ripped, sending a trickle of blood down his face to mingle with the overflowing tears, Harry’s gaze narrowed and he fucked the boy’s mouth even harder. “Wet and mine!” He arched his hips and ground his cock down Scorpius’s throat, keeping it there and smirking as the muscles spasmed around him and Scorpius’s fingernails finally broke the skin on his thighs. Harry’s hands fisted in the blond curls and dragged him inexorably closer until black pubic hair began to ease its way past swollen and torn lips. That was the sign that Harry needed to halt his progression; he hated the taste of pubic hair and wouldn’t subject his submissive to it.
Scorpius held position for almost a full minute before he lost control and started gagging around Harry’s erection. Tears poured more quickly down his cheeks, dripping off his pointy chin to splash on Harry’s knees and his own bloody thighs.
Harry didn’t withdraw until Scorpius’s face started turning blue. It was a lovely shade, complementing the collar and his eyes and hair so well. Reluctantly, Harry resisted the urge to shoot his load down the well-abused throat or bathe the collar with his come again; he could do that later.
His right hand drifted down from knotted curls to brush across Scorpius’s face and heal the damage he had caused with his enthusiasm. He knew the moment the pain ceased, because tears finally stopped marring the milky skin of his submissive’s face. “I’ve healed you, boy. Show your gratitude.”
“Thank you, Master,” he rasped, eyes fixed on the floor.
Harry crouched down and stared at the bloody half-moons on Scorpius’s thighs. Rage boiled in his stomach and erupted like a geyser from his throat. “You were doing so well, too.”
Scorpius flinched. It was barely noticeable, but Harry didn’t miss it. “Master?”
Harry’s nails gouged into the wounds, widening them and causing more blood to spill down Scorpius’s thighs. “I’m the only one who’s allowed to make you bleed, boy! Do you understand?” Harry lifted a hand and licked the blood off his fingers. “You’re my property,” he hissed.
“Ah! Y-yes, Master,” Scorpius whimpered.
Head hanging, Harry got to his feet. “I wanted to be gentle the first time, but you just won’t let me, will you?” Semen and saliva dripped from his cock and tumbled to the floor. He fisted a hand in blond hair and yanked viciously, almost tearing it from its roots-just as Scorpius’s failure was ripping Harry’s visions of love from theirs. “I own you, Scorpius. Your father sold you to me before you were born. You exist only for me. Understand?”
“Yes, Master,” Scorpius replied, a hint of something that might be defeat entwined in the two words.
“Then you know I have no choice but to punish you.” Harry clapped his hands and Scorpius got to his feet with less grace than he had knelt with. His legs were probably asleep and aching; good, he deserved it. Blood welled from the cuts and dripped down his legs, painting the innocence with violence. “Beautiful.”
Harry stalked over to the wall beside his bed and pressed his hand against the stone, imagining what he wanted. The Hallows did the rest. A wide, stone protrusion grew from the wall a little below the top of his thighs, and two sets of manacles-one above and one below the stone shelf-appeared. He concentrated on ensuring the manacles and support shelf wouldn’t tear open Scorpius’s delicate skin; that honor belonged to him alone.
The entire design could have been found in Voldemort’s dungeons. For abject failure, like Voldemort before him, Harry knew with every fiber of his being that infliction of pain and suffering was the only acceptable punishment.
“Perfect,” he said once he was sure they were exactly what he needed. Harry snapped his fingers, and just like in Malfoy Manor, Scorpius hurried to his side. Once he halted beside Harry, Harry swished his wrist and Levitated Scorpius a few inches off the ground. He attached the manacles to Scorpius’s wrists and ankles, ensuring his hands and feet were pressed flat to the wall, and smirked at the sight before him.
The protrusion pressed against Scorpius’s upper thighs (surely digging into the cuts and aggravating the torn skin), forcing his arse into the air at just the right angle. The brand on his right arse cheek shone in the torchlight, and Harry bent down and sank his teeth into it until he drew blood. The moment his teeth unlatched, it healed. He repeatedly bit into the mark, claiming Scorpius’s arse as his, relishing every sob that tore from those healed lips. His submissive was being punished and would be shown no mercy.
Scorpius would have to learn quickly if he wanted to avoid such pain in the future. It shouldn’t be hard. All Harry demanded was complete and total obedience.
The boy’s shoulders shook, and Harry knew it was from the strain of being suspended. As long as Scorpius’s muscles didn’t tear, Harry could fix the damage once he was done fulfilling his needs and convincing his submissive to cease ruining their gentle love. Scorpius’s pale pink prick was flaccid where it lay against the stone, but that pleased Harry greatly. A submissive shouldn’t enjoy punishment, for it would only encourage him to rebel.
Harry’s lips ghosted across Scorpius’s ear as they had earlier. “I’m going to ask you a question, Scorpius. I better get the answer I want,” he ground out, sounding like mutilated cartilage. He slid his thumbs between the globes of Scorpius’s arse and stretched them wide, staring at the shuddering, virginal hole. “Can I have your virginity?” His voice was a deep growl as the query ripped from his throat, butchering its way into the room.
Saliva and semen continued to dribble from his erection onto the floor as he awaited the required response. Having to ask for what belonged to him was abhorrent, and Scorpius would pay for that. Something as insignificant as consent had no place between master and submissive.
Every muscle in Scorpius’s body tightened as he inhaled deeply. Then, voice shaking as if Harry were Cruciating him-hmm, now there’s an idea for the next time he disobeyed-that raspy voice said, “Y-y-yes, M-Master.”
Harry nuzzled their cheeks together, whispered, “Good boy,” and then thrust his cock into Scorpius’s arse without heeding any resistance. He saw the rim tear a bit, but that didn’t stop him in the least. He had waited twenty years for this moment, and Scorpius was the one who had forced Harry to take him like this: bound to a stone wall with only his own saliva and Harry’s pre-come as lubricant.
Yes, this was all Scorpius’s doing.
If Scorpius hadn’t forced Harry to punish him, there would have been lubricant, fingering, perhaps rimming, and gentle easing inside. For ruining two decades of fantasies, Harry would make him suffer this first time, as much as losing the dream deflowering of his submissive hurt Harry.
“Ahh!” Screams catapulted from Scorpius’s throat as Harry’s balls slapped against his arse hard enough to bruise. “M-Master!” he gasped wetly, tears speeding down his cheeks like a waterfall.
Harry bit into Scorpius’s earlobe. “The next word out of your mouth better be ‘more’ or I don’t want to hear anything at all.”
Scorpius’s head dropped forward; his whole body shook. Satisfied for now, Harry pulled out and then slammed back inside. The hot, tight walls clamped onto the skin of his cock, sticking because of the blood and lack of lubrication, before releasing him. He plowed his way deeper, uncaring of the coppery scent that wafted upward as more skin tore.
“Tight, my boy. The tightest arse I’ve ever fucked.” The Hallows kept his length from being rubbed raw, but the same couldn’t be said of Scorpius’s arse. Blood that had trickled earlier began to gush from his entry, staining the back of his legs and Harry’s erection the same color as the front of Scorpius’s thighs. The blood clotted, knotting Harry’s pubic hair together as he continued to pound the wounded depths.
With every thrust, Scorpius grew paler and his breathing became shallower. Harry glanced down at the amount of blood on their bodies; it reflected back his lust-filled, crazed eyes. They burned the color of the Killing Curse. It was oddly fitting, since he thought he might be fucking Scorpius to death.
He stuffed his cock as deep into Scorpius’s arse as it would go, one of his balls slipping past the torn ring of muscle, and then placed the gentlest of kisses against Scorpius’s left shoulder. “Don’t worry, love. If you bleed out, the Resurrection Stone will return you to me.”
Harry’s hands dug into Scorpius’s hips, bruises already forming there, and he pummeled inside the velvety depths. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, concentrating only on the pleasure that serenaded his every nerve-ending. Then, when the grip of Scorpius’s arse became too much, Harry threw his head back and howled his pleasure.
The wordless cry of fulfillment echoed throughout the room as jets of semen launched from his cock and into the blood-soaked battlefield he had created. His cock started to soften, but Harry refused to withdraw just yet. He wanted his seed to seep through the wounds and into Scorpius’s bloodstream; that way it would travel throughout his entire body. By the time his heart finished pumping it through his veins, Harry would possess every bit of his submissive, even his organs.
A few minutes later, he grudgingly admitted to himself that enough time had passed. He peppered Scorpius’s limp, sweat-soaked curls with kisses as he removed his half-hard length from the mess he had made of once-whole flesh.
Scorpius whimpered, the barest hint of sound.
Harry brushed Scorpius’s hair off to the side and kissed his cheek. “You survived your punishment. Good boy. Master will make everything better now.” Harry pressed the back of his hand to the smudged brand on Scorpius’s right arse cheek, lining the symbols up perfectly. Once the marks connected, blood travelled back up pale legs to return to where it had come from. Harry glanced longingly at the sanguineous silk kissing his privates, regretting its departure to his submissive’s body.
Finally, the tears and ruptured skin-inside and out-sealed shut, as if they had never existed in the first place.
Tenderly smoothing his hands down satin-soft skin, Harry released the manacles and caught Scorpius in his arms when his submissive slumped forward listlessly. Harry hefted him into his arms and carried him over to the bed; a crooking finger caused the blankets and sheets to fold themselves against the cherry wood footboard.
Harry settled on the bed with Scorpius in his lap, his hands continuing to stroke and soothe his submissive. “I hate that you made me do that, Scorpius.” He sighed heavily and cast a cleaning charm over the both of them, banishing the sweat and stench of sex.
“I’m s-sorry, Master.”
“I know. I forgive you.” Harry kissed his forehead tenderly. “Just make sure to obey the rules and I won’t have to hurt you, all right?” He tightened his grip to the point of pain, deep enough to leave impressions of his fingerprints in white skin.
“Yes, Master.” Scorpius’s voice sounded somewhat blank, but Harry knew it was only because his submissive wasn’t used to the change in his circumstances yet. Forever would surely be enough time to adjust.
“And once you’ve gotten very good at obeying and pleasing me, I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself too.” Harry’s hand shot down and grabbed Scorpius’s limp prick; the skin was baby smooth as it lay in its nest of curls. “That you didn’t enjoy your punishment is why I let you off so easy.” Scorpius paled at the words, but Harry couldn’t imagine why… unless he was shocked at his Master’s generosity. That was as it should be, then.
Harry released Scorpius’s prick and cupped his chin, turning the boy’s face to him. “It’s simple, right? Obedience makes me happy. When your Master is happy, you are happy.”
Scorpius blinked and shuddered. Hmm, it was a little chilly in the room. “Yes, Master.”
Well, Harry knew how to warm them up. He wouldn’t want his submissive getting sick or thinking Harry didn’t appreciate him by abandoning him to sleep after they had first made love together. He lifted Scorpius off his lap and set him on the sheets, angling his head so that pink lips rested right over Harry’s steel hard erection.
“Be a good boy and swallow it all down.”
Surely, the tears falling from gray eyes to trickle across silky cheeks were tears of gratitude. “Yes, Master.”
Harry’s fingers twined through blond angelic curls as he lazily, but enthusiastically, fucked his eternal companion’s mouth. Immortality had never felt so righteous.
Author: kamerreon
Title: Sold Before Birth
Pairings: Harry Potter/Scorpius Malfoy, canon side pairings
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Post-DH, slash: male/male, implied past het: male/female, adult language, mindfuckery, angst, dub-con that borders on non-con, D/s, age disparity (43/17), thoughts of sexual intimacy with an underage person, wanking, branding, collaring, breath play, oral, blood, bondage, suspension, biting, anal, violence, contemplations of torture, utter control of every aspect of a child’s life, physical/emotional/mental abuse (depending on how you view it), and dark!bastard!Harry.
Word Count: 5,067 words
Summary: In exchange for freedom-no Azkaban and no dementors-the Malfoys promised Draco Malfoy’s firstborn son to Harry Potter.
Notes: k8matty, it’s been a pleasure to pinch-hit for your request. This isn’t within a light-year of my normal fare, but I’m satisfied with how it turned out. This story is twisted, dark, and fucked up. I’d like to thank A. and M. for editing.
Sold Before Birth
Harry Potter sat up in bed, letting the sheets tumble to his lap as he stared at the misty, hovering message in the air. Today was the day that he could finally collect what belonged to him. Smirking, he shoved the covers aside and stepped from the bed as naked as the day he was born.
Almost two decades ago, he had struck a deal with the Malfoy family: Harry would ensure none of them went to Azkaban or were Kissed, and in return they would gift him with Draco’s firstborn son once the boy graduated from Hogwarts.
Of course, there were other stipulations-how the boy was to be raised (submissively), who he could associate with (no one), and what he should believe (he belongs body and soul to Harry Potter).
He hadn’t been foolish enough to take their word for it, though. Harry had forced each Malfoy to make an Unbreakable Vow; they did so readily. Each of them loved their own life more than a hypothetical child that didn’t even exist yet. It’s what Harry had counted on. Besides, Draco could always get his wife to birth him an heir after the child was born, for it certainly wouldn’t belong to the House of Malfoy.
Twenty years was a long time to wait, but Harry was patient in this matter alone. Thanks to the Hallows, he literally had all the time in the world. And thanks to the Malfoys, he wouldn’t be spending it alone-the boy would serve as his unchanging and eternal submissive.
“Someone just for me,” Harry purred as he padded into the shower. He stared at the mark of the Hallows on the back of his right hand: a line inside a circle inside a triangle. They had merged with his body the moment he defeated Voldemort, and he hadn’t aged a day since. The Stone and Deathstick had even gone so far as to remove all his scars and fix his eyesight.
“Someone who’ll serve me. Someone who can’t leave me.” The words caused the flesh between his legs to sit up and beg. Harry trailed his hands tauntingly along his prick, imagining smaller, slender hands in their place; they would be pale and smoother than silk.
“It’s been too long,” he growled. Harry rarely left Potter Manor. Doing so only allowed mindless, weak wizards and witches chances to harass him. But he hadn’t been able to resist the urge to see his future submissive when the boy first went to Hogwarts.
The Invisibility Cloak had shifted over his skin, keeping him from sight as he had stared at the blond hair, lowered gray eyes, and pointy chin. The child was beautiful-delightfully so. As the boy stood next to Draco and his mum-whom Harry didn’t recognize-Harry had imagined coaxing the boy’s mouth open and fucking it right there on platform nine-and-three-quarters.
He wanted to feel those small hands fist his cock and tug him to completion, as his own was doing right now. Harry arched his hips, shoving his prick through the curve of his fingers; it wouldn’t be long now until that was the boy’s duty-until fulfilling every kinky fantasy Harry had ever had was the boy’s duty.
“You’re going to be so fucking tight!” hissed Harry.
If magic didn’t stop underage wizards and witches from participating in more than snogging, Harry likely would’ve caved when the boy was thirteen or fourteen. He would’ve slipped right through the wards around Malfoy Manor, stripped the boy, and stuffed his cock inside the pert, pink hole. But that was a magical law even Harry Potter couldn’t evade, and he had promised the Malfoys they could keep and train his submissive until the boy graduated from Hogwarts.
He hadn’t wanted to chance the vows breaking if he changed his mind or tried to cheat the vow.
Harry hadn’t saved the magical world and lived this long in solitude to lose his reward. His thumb brushed across the head of his cock, nail dragging across the slit, and his come shot from his body and bathed the wall of the shower as pleasure spiked through him. He licked the seed from his Hallow-marked hand and thought, This is the last time I’ll have to pleasure myself.
Smirking wickedly, he tossed his head back and scrubbed his hair and body clean. After turning off the water, he stepped from the shower and onto the heated tile floor. A stretch before the floor-length, unfogged mirror on the wall showed he was as fit and battle-ready as the day he had defeated Voldemort decades ago.
There had been a short time after the final battle, before he had made the deal with the Malfoys, when he had shagged his way through a plethora of witches and wizards. However, they were never what he wanted; they didn’t know how to take direction. He just wanted them to shut the fuck up and take what he was giving them.
Now someone had been handcrafted to do just that. He couldn’t wait to test his submissive out.
Harry chuckled as he waved a hand, drying himself off. Then, feeling excited and pleased with himself, he wandered back into the bedroom. Getting dressed only took a few minutes of his time, for he had long become accustomed to donning formal dress robes; they were a sign of his station, proof of his power, and he wasn’t going to let anyone forget who he was.
Just Harry-the weakling who let Muggles abuse and control him-had died decades ago. Lord Harry James Potter-Master of the Hallows and Death-never had any trouble getting what he wanted. Only a fool would deny him anything.
The robes were blacker than onyx and trimmed in emerald green, his family crest emblazoned across the back-informing all and sundry of whom exactly they had the honor of seeing. It was one of the symbols of his power, and he intended to mark his submissive with it.
“Soon, so very soon,” muttered Harry as he lifted the wide jewelry box off the top of his bureau. He flipped up the velvet gray lid and beamed at the contents. The goblins had done precisely as he demanded-not that he expected anything less. The box held a collar: wide mithril links engraved with runes; from the front-most link hung the Potter coat of arms on a shield-shaped mithril charm. The coat of arms was crafted of pristine gemstones. Overall, the collar cost more than most people’s houses.
Harry had ordered it the same day he first saw his submissive on platform nine-and-three-quarters. It had taken the goblins two years to make it to his specifications. The night he got it, Harry wanked over the links, splattering it with his seed as he imagined it encasing the pale, slender neck he had seen not long ago.
Bathing the collar in his semen became a favorite pastime as the months and years turned. Harry Potter and his magic had been ever possessive of what belonged to them, and the Malfoy boy would be theirs in every possible way.
His prick swelled as memories surfaced in his mind. His body was eternally young, and his recovery time allowed him to climax whenever he sought to do so. Today he would seek satisfaction in the body of his submissive for the first time.
Yes, finally. Harry closed his eyes as the smooth robes rubbed across his prick. It ached and needed as much as he did; regretfully, he forced his magic to quell the desire. He wouldn’t allow the Malfoys to see how obviously needy he was.
The still hovering numbers informed him that the Hogwarts Express had reached King’s Cross Station two hours ago. The Malfoys should’ve long since returned to their manor. It was time for him to collect his property. Harry turned on the spot and Disapparated to Malfoy Manor.
***
A house-elf appeared before him, hands raised, but they dropped as soon as it saw who Harry was. “Lord Potter! I wasn’t knowing it was you, my Lord. Klof wasn’t meaning to be attacking Lord Potter.”
Harry wrinkled his nose the slightest bit and waved his hand dismissively. “I’m here for my submissive.”
The house-elf bowed until its ears brushed across the floor. “Yes, my Lord. They is all being in the parlor. This way, my Lord.” It practically had to run to keep up with Harry’s long strides, even though it was leading the way. It pulled open an ornate door and announced, “Lord Potter’s here for Submissive Scorpius.”
Perfect. Another of the many stipulations declared that the boy could never be referred to as ‘Master’. Harry didn’t want him to get any ideas above his station, which was at Harry’s feet or wherever else Harry wished for him to be.
The occupants of the parlor sat bolt upright when he entered the room, and Harry’s eyes skipped over the other fair-haired children as he looked for his boy. And there-what had the house-elf called him? Ah, Scorpius! Scorpius sat on a low chaise, off to the side, eyes downcast and not within reach of anyone else in the room.
“Lord Potter,” Lucius said before inclining his head and setting down his teacup. “We’ve been expecting you.”
“Lord Malfoy,” replied Harry mockingly. “As you should. You’ve fulfilled your end of the bargain, I expect?”
“Quite,” Narcissa answered. “I’m sure you’ll find Scorpius is an undeniable submissive of superior quality. He’s been trained to your specifications, Lord Potter.”
“We’ll see about that.” Harry snapped his fingers and Scorpius immediately got off the chaise and walked to his side, avoiding physical contact with his family members. “Not bad,” said Harry when Scorpius stopped beside him, eyes trained on the Persian rugs.
“Mummy, where’s Scorpius going?” a little blonde girl asked.
Narcissa hushed her. “Scorpius is no business of ours, Adara. He belongs to Lord Potter; I’ve told you that before, young lady.”
When Scorpius didn’t flinch at the words, Harry couldn’t keep a smug smirk from curling his lips. That and Draco’s silence made this whole situation seem like a victory as grand as when he had slayed the greatest Dark Lord of all time. Scorpius’s mother’s eyes were averted, hands fisted at her side, and that pleased Harry all the more. He had suffered so much for others; it was time for others to suffer for his comfort.
Harry encased Scorpius in his arms-hard enough that the young man could never hope to escape even if he wanted to-and stared right into Lucius’s eyes. “If he’s not satisfactory, I’ll forward the evidence to the Ministry. Let’s hope for your sake that you kept your word.” Before anyone had a chance to reply, he spun on his heel and Disapparated.
Once they reappeared in his bedroom, Harry released Scorpius and started circling him. The robes he wore were gray, but the crest on the back of them was the Potter family crest. Good. Harry couldn’t have the boy thinking he was actually a Malfoy. Nothing had ever belonged to a Potter more than Scorpius belonged to him.
“Strip.”
Nimble fingers swiftly unlatched all the clasps on the formal robes; they slithered down slender shoulders to puddle on the floor. As expected, other than the small thatch of curls around the limp, pale prick, Scorpius didn’t have any hair on his body. Harry stroked his cheeks and chin just to be sure-they were smooth and stubble free. The Malfoys must’ve cursed it off.
Harry placed a hand on the angelic blond curls and sent a spell tumbling down Scorpius’s body. Numbers appeared above his head. His weight was healthy, and his height was exactly what Harry had wanted it to be: five-foot-five. Harry was only six-foot himself, and he had wanted someone smaller than him; Scorpius fit the bill nicely. He briefly wondered how many Dark rituals had been necessary to ensure specified growth-how painful it must’ve been-but only for a moment.
The path Scorpius had been forced to walk to get here didn’t matter; all that mattered was that his submissive was now here. Harry leaned down, lips brushing the shell of one ear, and said, “This is going to hurt.” He turned his right hand over and pressed the back of it to Scorpius’s right arse cheek. The Hallow mark glowed hotly and then branded him. The scent of burning flesh tainted the air, but vanished moments later once the Hallows healed the brand into a shiny silver mark.
Scorpius whimpered, and the sound went straight to Harry’s cock. Such a sweet, innocent sound of pain. It was music to his dark soul. His fingers trailed across the mark, caressing his brand. It would guarantee Scorpius’s immortality and make him unavoidably submissive to Harry’s every whim-no matter how dark, painful, or perverse.
Harry stepped back and clapped his hands once; Scorpius fell gracefully to his knees. “Good boy.” Harry stroked his hair, fingers tangling in the blond curls. After a moment, he fisted his hand and yanked Scorpius’s head back. A soft yelp escaped pale pink lips. “I wanted to be gentle with you the first time,” Harry confessed, “but I’ve waited too long.”
A flick of his wrist removed his formal dress robes and returned them to his wardrobe. A beckoning finger sent the velvet box on his bureau floating over into his hand. Harry opened it and removed the collar; he dragged the mithril links across his jutting erection, sighs of delight slipping from him as the smooth, cool metal met heated flesh.
“I’ve fantasized about this for years, Scorpius. Did you know that?” Harry teased the shield charm across the head of his leaking prick. “I wanted to Apparate into your bedchamber, work you open, and claim every hole you own as mine.” He felt a shiver run through Scorpius’s body and glanced off to the side before grinning wolfishly. “Magic kept you away from me. Kept your small hands, pink tongue, and virginal arse out of my reach. But no more,” snarled Harry.
He unhooked the latch and slid the collar around Scorpius’s throat. It swallowed his entire neck, covering it from just beneath his chin down to his collarbone. Once it was in place, Harry pressed the back of his right hand against the latch and let the Hallows meld it into place. Nothing would be able to remove it now-not even a beheading.
“So you’re going to make up for Magic’s law.”
Harry walked around to Scorpius’s front, thick cock flushed red and dripping semen onto the floor. He cupped Scorpius’s jaw oh-so-tenderly in his hand and then said, “I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to answer: ‘Yes, Master.’ Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” Scorpius whispered. His voice was rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in months. The raspy quality made Harry’s cock leap and bump against Scorpius’s chin, smearing wetness along his pale skin.
“Will you suck my cock, Scorpius?”
He gulped and averted his eyes. “Yes, Master.”
“Good boy.” Harry’s thumb brushed across a plump lower lip, and then he petted Scorpius’s curls again. “Now open your mouth and let me have it.”
As soon as those lips parted, Harry shoved his cock inside as deep as it could go. Scorpius choked on it, much to Harry’s relief. He had worried that the Malfoys would go against his wishes and train Scorpius in this manner, hoping it would please him. He didn’t want his submissive to practice on anything but his own cock.
“Curl your lips around your teeth,” Harry instructed as he stuffed himself into the wet heat. “Lick along the l-length.” He groaned as Scorpius followed the directions despite his obvious pain and discomfort. The boy’s hands were fisted atop his thighs, nails forming imprints in his skin. But he was taking it-just as Harry wanted.
“You’re going to take all of me, Scorpius,” purred Harry, hands carding through his hair. “That’s what you were made for.” He smirked into wide gray eyes. “Now swallow,” Harry ordered before stuffing his substantial erection into Scorpius’s mouth and down his throat. He ignored the choking and spluttering sounds, repeating, “Swallow, boy.”
When Scorpius obeyed, the choking noises ceased, though his body trembled desperately.
Harry withdrew enough so that his submissive could breathe deeply, but kept the head of his cock back far enough that tonsils caressed it. “See, it’s better if you just listen. It hurt less when you swallowed, didn’t it?”
Scorpius nodded slightly, tears pooling at the edges of his eyes and clinging to blond lashes.
“Exactly. Master knows best,” Harry chided. Then, deciding Scorpius had been given more than enough of a reprieve, he hissed, “Swallow,” before sticking his massive prick back down the spasming throat. The boy swallowed right away this time, and kept swallowing as Harry remained jammed down his esophagus. The contractions of his throat brought intense pleasure to Harry, better than he had imagined in years of wanking.
In the past, not one of his lovers would obey his commands to calm the fuck down and let him do what he wanted. So far, Scorpius was performing up to expectations. Perhaps the Malfoys wouldn’t let him down after all.
This time when he pulled out, he thrust right back in-over and over and over.
When the corner of Scorpius’s lip ripped, sending a trickle of blood down his face to mingle with the overflowing tears, Harry’s gaze narrowed and he fucked the boy’s mouth even harder. “Wet and mine!” He arched his hips and ground his cock down Scorpius’s throat, keeping it there and smirking as the muscles spasmed around him and Scorpius’s fingernails finally broke the skin on his thighs. Harry’s hands fisted in the blond curls and dragged him inexorably closer until black pubic hair began to ease its way past swollen and torn lips. That was the sign that Harry needed to halt his progression; he hated the taste of pubic hair and wouldn’t subject his submissive to it.
Scorpius held position for almost a full minute before he lost control and started gagging around Harry’s erection. Tears poured more quickly down his cheeks, dripping off his pointy chin to splash on Harry’s knees and his own bloody thighs.
Harry didn’t withdraw until Scorpius’s face started turning blue. It was a lovely shade, complementing the collar and his eyes and hair so well. Reluctantly, Harry resisted the urge to shoot his load down the well-abused throat or bathe the collar with his come again; he could do that later.
His right hand drifted down from knotted curls to brush across Scorpius’s face and heal the damage he had caused with his enthusiasm. He knew the moment the pain ceased, because tears finally stopped marring the milky skin of his submissive’s face. “I’ve healed you, boy. Show your gratitude.”
“Thank you, Master,” he rasped, eyes fixed on the floor.
Harry crouched down and stared at the bloody half-moons on Scorpius’s thighs. Rage boiled in his stomach and erupted like a geyser from his throat. “You were doing so well, too.”
Scorpius flinched. It was barely noticeable, but Harry didn’t miss it. “Master?”
Harry’s nails gouged into the wounds, widening them and causing more blood to spill down Scorpius’s thighs. “I’m the only one who’s allowed to make you bleed, boy! Do you understand?” Harry lifted a hand and licked the blood off his fingers. “You’re my property,” he hissed.
“Ah! Y-yes, Master,” Scorpius whimpered.
Head hanging, Harry got to his feet. “I wanted to be gentle the first time, but you just won’t let me, will you?” Semen and saliva dripped from his cock and tumbled to the floor. He fisted a hand in blond hair and yanked viciously, almost tearing it from its roots-just as Scorpius’s failure was ripping Harry’s visions of love from theirs. “I own you, Scorpius. Your father sold you to me before you were born. You exist only for me. Understand?”
“Yes, Master,” Scorpius replied, a hint of something that might be defeat entwined in the two words.
“Then you know I have no choice but to punish you.” Harry clapped his hands and Scorpius got to his feet with less grace than he had knelt with. His legs were probably asleep and aching; good, he deserved it. Blood welled from the cuts and dripped down his legs, painting the innocence with violence. “Beautiful.”
Harry stalked over to the wall beside his bed and pressed his hand against the stone, imagining what he wanted. The Hallows did the rest. A wide, stone protrusion grew from the wall a little below the top of his thighs, and two sets of manacles-one above and one below the stone shelf-appeared. He concentrated on ensuring the manacles and support shelf wouldn’t tear open Scorpius’s delicate skin; that honor belonged to him alone.
The entire design could have been found in Voldemort’s dungeons. For abject failure, like Voldemort before him, Harry knew with every fiber of his being that infliction of pain and suffering was the only acceptable punishment.
“Perfect,” he said once he was sure they were exactly what he needed. Harry snapped his fingers, and just like in Malfoy Manor, Scorpius hurried to his side. Once he halted beside Harry, Harry swished his wrist and Levitated Scorpius a few inches off the ground. He attached the manacles to Scorpius’s wrists and ankles, ensuring his hands and feet were pressed flat to the wall, and smirked at the sight before him.
The protrusion pressed against Scorpius’s upper thighs (surely digging into the cuts and aggravating the torn skin), forcing his arse into the air at just the right angle. The brand on his right arse cheek shone in the torchlight, and Harry bent down and sank his teeth into it until he drew blood. The moment his teeth unlatched, it healed. He repeatedly bit into the mark, claiming Scorpius’s arse as his, relishing every sob that tore from those healed lips. His submissive was being punished and would be shown no mercy.
Scorpius would have to learn quickly if he wanted to avoid such pain in the future. It shouldn’t be hard. All Harry demanded was complete and total obedience.
The boy’s shoulders shook, and Harry knew it was from the strain of being suspended. As long as Scorpius’s muscles didn’t tear, Harry could fix the damage once he was done fulfilling his needs and convincing his submissive to cease ruining their gentle love. Scorpius’s pale pink prick was flaccid where it lay against the stone, but that pleased Harry greatly. A submissive shouldn’t enjoy punishment, for it would only encourage him to rebel.
Harry’s lips ghosted across Scorpius’s ear as they had earlier. “I’m going to ask you a question, Scorpius. I better get the answer I want,” he ground out, sounding like mutilated cartilage. He slid his thumbs between the globes of Scorpius’s arse and stretched them wide, staring at the shuddering, virginal hole. “Can I have your virginity?” His voice was a deep growl as the query ripped from his throat, butchering its way into the room.
Saliva and semen continued to dribble from his erection onto the floor as he awaited the required response. Having to ask for what belonged to him was abhorrent, and Scorpius would pay for that. Something as insignificant as consent had no place between master and submissive.
Every muscle in Scorpius’s body tightened as he inhaled deeply. Then, voice shaking as if Harry were Cruciating him-hmm, now there’s an idea for the next time he disobeyed-that raspy voice said, “Y-y-yes, M-Master.”
Harry nuzzled their cheeks together, whispered, “Good boy,” and then thrust his cock into Scorpius’s arse without heeding any resistance. He saw the rim tear a bit, but that didn’t stop him in the least. He had waited twenty years for this moment, and Scorpius was the one who had forced Harry to take him like this: bound to a stone wall with only his own saliva and Harry’s pre-come as lubricant.
Yes, this was all Scorpius’s doing.
If Scorpius hadn’t forced Harry to punish him, there would have been lubricant, fingering, perhaps rimming, and gentle easing inside. For ruining two decades of fantasies, Harry would make him suffer this first time, as much as losing the dream deflowering of his submissive hurt Harry.
“Ahh!” Screams catapulted from Scorpius’s throat as Harry’s balls slapped against his arse hard enough to bruise. “M-Master!” he gasped wetly, tears speeding down his cheeks like a waterfall.
Harry bit into Scorpius’s earlobe. “The next word out of your mouth better be ‘more’ or I don’t want to hear anything at all.”
Scorpius’s head dropped forward; his whole body shook. Satisfied for now, Harry pulled out and then slammed back inside. The hot, tight walls clamped onto the skin of his cock, sticking because of the blood and lack of lubrication, before releasing him. He plowed his way deeper, uncaring of the coppery scent that wafted upward as more skin tore.
“Tight, my boy. The tightest arse I’ve ever fucked.” The Hallows kept his length from being rubbed raw, but the same couldn’t be said of Scorpius’s arse. Blood that had trickled earlier began to gush from his entry, staining the back of his legs and Harry’s erection the same color as the front of Scorpius’s thighs. The blood clotted, knotting Harry’s pubic hair together as he continued to pound the wounded depths.
With every thrust, Scorpius grew paler and his breathing became shallower. Harry glanced down at the amount of blood on their bodies; it reflected back his lust-filled, crazed eyes. They burned the color of the Killing Curse. It was oddly fitting, since he thought he might be fucking Scorpius to death.
He stuffed his cock as deep into Scorpius’s arse as it would go, one of his balls slipping past the torn ring of muscle, and then placed the gentlest of kisses against Scorpius’s left shoulder. “Don’t worry, love. If you bleed out, the Resurrection Stone will return you to me.”
Harry’s hands dug into Scorpius’s hips, bruises already forming there, and he pummeled inside the velvety depths. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, concentrating only on the pleasure that serenaded his every nerve-ending. Then, when the grip of Scorpius’s arse became too much, Harry threw his head back and howled his pleasure.
The wordless cry of fulfillment echoed throughout the room as jets of semen launched from his cock and into the blood-soaked battlefield he had created. His cock started to soften, but Harry refused to withdraw just yet. He wanted his seed to seep through the wounds and into Scorpius’s bloodstream; that way it would travel throughout his entire body. By the time his heart finished pumping it through his veins, Harry would possess every bit of his submissive, even his organs.
A few minutes later, he grudgingly admitted to himself that enough time had passed. He peppered Scorpius’s limp, sweat-soaked curls with kisses as he removed his half-hard length from the mess he had made of once-whole flesh.
Scorpius whimpered, the barest hint of sound.
Harry brushed Scorpius’s hair off to the side and kissed his cheek. “You survived your punishment. Good boy. Master will make everything better now.” Harry pressed the back of his hand to the smudged brand on Scorpius’s right arse cheek, lining the symbols up perfectly. Once the marks connected, blood travelled back up pale legs to return to where it had come from. Harry glanced longingly at the sanguineous silk kissing his privates, regretting its departure to his submissive’s body.
Finally, the tears and ruptured skin-inside and out-sealed shut, as if they had never existed in the first place.
Tenderly smoothing his hands down satin-soft skin, Harry released the manacles and caught Scorpius in his arms when his submissive slumped forward listlessly. Harry hefted him into his arms and carried him over to the bed; a crooking finger caused the blankets and sheets to fold themselves against the cherry wood footboard.
Harry settled on the bed with Scorpius in his lap, his hands continuing to stroke and soothe his submissive. “I hate that you made me do that, Scorpius.” He sighed heavily and cast a cleaning charm over the both of them, banishing the sweat and stench of sex.
“I’m s-sorry, Master.”
“I know. I forgive you.” Harry kissed his forehead tenderly. “Just make sure to obey the rules and I won’t have to hurt you, all right?” He tightened his grip to the point of pain, deep enough to leave impressions of his fingerprints in white skin.
“Yes, Master.” Scorpius’s voice sounded somewhat blank, but Harry knew it was only because his submissive wasn’t used to the change in his circumstances yet. Forever would surely be enough time to adjust.
“And once you’ve gotten very good at obeying and pleasing me, I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself too.” Harry’s hand shot down and grabbed Scorpius’s limp prick; the skin was baby smooth as it lay in its nest of curls. “That you didn’t enjoy your punishment is why I let you off so easy.” Scorpius paled at the words, but Harry couldn’t imagine why… unless he was shocked at his Master’s generosity. That was as it should be, then.
Harry released Scorpius’s prick and cupped his chin, turning the boy’s face to him. “It’s simple, right? Obedience makes me happy. When your Master is happy, you are happy.”
Scorpius blinked and shuddered. Hmm, it was a little chilly in the room. “Yes, Master.”
Well, Harry knew how to warm them up. He wouldn’t want his submissive getting sick or thinking Harry didn’t appreciate him by abandoning him to sleep after they had first made love together. He lifted Scorpius off his lap and set him on the sheets, angling his head so that pink lips rested right over Harry’s steel hard erection.
“Be a good boy and swallow it all down.”
Surely, the tears falling from gray eyes to trickle across silky cheeks were tears of gratitude. “Yes, Master.”
Harry’s fingers twined through blond angelic curls as he lazily, but enthusiastically, fucked his eternal companion’s mouth. Immortality had never felt so righteous.