Claimed
Title: Claimed
Universe: Harry Potter
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Rating: mature. M/M sex (slash!), some language, bondage and domination.
Word Count: 4,794
Disclaimer: i do not own Severus, Harry or any of the familiar settings found within this fic. they are all owned by the brilliant Jo Rowling. i am only borrowing for the purpose of entertainment and will give them back after i'm done with them. i make absolutely nothing from the writing of this fic other than the comments others might wish to leave me. please don't sue me. i gots no money.
Summary: Severus decides he wants a sex slave, so he goes out to buy himself one.
Author's Note: written for liliaeth based on the kinks and pairings listed on her LiveJournal for the Five Acts Meme. i really hope that you like this as i wasn't sure just how deep to go with it. also, though i'm sure everyone will realize this, it is set in an AU version of the Potter World.
He hated the market. It was a dirty, nasty, disgusting place. Too many people clustered together along the main walks, leaving him uncomfortable. It didn't matter that no one dared look at him with anything beyond fear anymore. It didn't matter that men, women and children scurried out of his path when they saw him coming. None of this mattered because he simply hated people. He hated children, always so loud and boisterous and annoying. He hated women, with their petty jealousies and inane chatter about unimportant things. He hated men, who seemed to find him as a source of amusement. He hated them all. If he hadn't needed supplies, he wouldn't have dared venture from his dungeon rooms below the blasted school he called home.
So much had changed since Potter had failed. The war had grown until it had consumed the magical world. After Potter's defeat, anyone who had publicly opposed Voldemort had been quickly and viciously cut down. Many members of the Order had been slaughtered, though a few had managed to flee and hide. Rumors had them hiding anywhere from France to Italy to Greece to Scandinavia and even the Americas. He had no idea if there was any truth to such things. Nor did he care. All he cared about was keeping his tenuous place in Voldemort's new order and new world. He'd happily taken Hogwarts as his own, as much because it was more his home than that cramped little building in Spinner's End as there was still a part of him that felt he owed it to Dumbledore. The meddling old goat.
The school wasn't as crowded with children as it once had been. But they still came. And it was his responsibility to see to their education. Administrating the school didn't allow him much time to get out and be social. Not that he was a social creature. But a man had needs that had to be filled. Needs that one found with an adult companion. Needs he wasn't about to announce to the entire school body. Those needs were what had seen him living the shelter of the castle and heading to the market.
The market, the slave market, was as loud as his private chambers in the dungeons were quiet. There were people clustered in pairs and groups, eagerly awaiting the newest group of slaves to be put up for sale. It had been enacted by Voldemort's orders, a way to dispose of his detractors without killing them. It had become common place for anyone who opposed him to end up crossing the boards of the small dais that had been erected in an empty corner of Diagon Alley. Wealthy families could buy slaves for any number of reasons, from simple servants who did the same job as House Elves to a sexual slave that might be used for breeding. All of this was, of course, dependent upon their blood.
Busy man that he was, he had little time to seek out a sexual companion. But being a man, he still had those primal urges. There was no way he would stoop to paying a tart for sex. There was no telling what kind of foul diseases a street walker would carry on her person. And it was supremely asinine to spend an exorbitant sum of money for a singular encounter when he could pay a goodly sum for a slave that would have little choice but to do whatever he wished of them. And a slave would be someone he could slake his lusts upon without emotional entanglements.
Slipping up close to the dais, he leaned up against the wall and waited. He'd been to one or two of these affairs before and they were always long. Tedious. Boring. But he couldn't think of any other place to go to find a sexual partner. There was no where else he could go that would provide him with someone who would be willing to do as he instructed. More or less. So he would suffer through an auction in the hopes of finding just the right person. Hopefully this venture wouldn't be a complete waste of his time.
As luck would have it, the auction started only moments later. There was a large crowd gathered to see the offerings, though most of them were unlikely there to do anything more. He knew from past experience that most of the crowd was simply there to ogle the latest poor souls who had been unlucky enough to get caught thinking contrary to what they'd been told they could think. Only a handful of the people in the crowd were actually there to bid on the slaves. That made greater his chances of being able to pick the slave he wanted.
He watched silently as one body after another was paraded across the little stage. Each of them appeared to have spent some amount of time in a cell somewhere, as they were covered in filth and dressed in rags. Every single one of them looked a if they had been deprived of food, their arms thin enough to look like sticks. He was having a hard time picturing them clean, dressed and properly fed. In fact, none of them looked terribly appealing. He was starting to think that this venture had been nothing more than a waste of his time. He was just getting ready to push his way through the crowd and leave when the slave hawker's voice broke over the crowd. "My fine Witches and Wizards! We have a last minute addition to the line up for your consideration."
Much against his will, sure that he would be shown more of the same, he turned and stared at the scrap of dirt and rags that the hawker's hand held to tightly. The boy or girl's head was down, their hair caked in dirt. The clothing the miserable creature wore was little more than strips of cloth held together by filth. "This one was just brought to me, supposedly released from the very bowels of Azkaban. It doesn't seem like this one is good for much, though I've been assured he's quite strong and capable. I've also been told he's amenable to any task set to him. Who will take this rare prize home with him?"
He stared at the boy the hawker held, eyes narrowed on the huddled figure. It was so terribly hard to make a decision when he couldn't see the lad's face or his form. Ridiculous rags. He needed a better view if he was going to choose whether or not to take this one home with him. "Show us `is face!" someone yelled from the back of the crowd.
"Here now, boy. Show the crowd your pretty face," the hawker ordered before reaching out and curling his hand into the clumps of dirty hair on the boy's head, then he jerked the head back so that everyone could see the dirt smudged face. Something inside of him shifted as he caught sight of something familiar there. It was hard to see it through all of the dirt, but he thought he knew that face. His gaze snapped up to the boy's eyes and everything clicked.
He'd seen those eyes before, seen the determination burning in them before. He imagined that, if he stripped away the dirt, he'd find a messy head of black hair that hid a lightning bolt scar. If the rags were gone, he'd discover a lithe body that belonged to a boy who had been the greatest Seeker Hogwarts had ever seen. How was such a thing possible? Potter was supposed to be dead. He'd been there. He'd seen the final battle. He'd seen the body.
Hadn't he?
"Come now. Surely someone wants this fine specimen. No doubt he can at least carry a pail of water and scrub the floor. Who will bid on the boy?" the hawker called, his gaze scanning the crowd. No one seemed to be willing to be the first to make an offer. "One hundred galleons! Do I hear one hundred galleons?"
Those sharp green eyes moved over the gathered crowd, searching to see if someone was willing to bid. Did the boy hope someone would make an offer for him? Or did he hope that no one would make an offer? One hundred galleons wasn't a terribly outrageous price for a slave. Did the hawker not know who he held in his hands? Was he the only man in all of England who could see just who it was that stood on the stage before them, defiance sparkling in those familiar green eyes? Was he the only one who knew just how important the boy had been? Still could be?
He could remember well the first time he'd seen those green eyes. Well, not exactly those green eyes. His mother's green eyes. He'd seen so many different emotions in her green eyes. They'd sparkled like emeralds when she'd smiled at him. They'd darkened when she'd been angry. And they'd shone with defiance when the lines had been drawn and she had chosen her side. He'd seen those same emotions in the eyes of her son time and time again. Just like now.
Those eyes found him, found him and locked to his eyes, and his breath caught in his throat. The defiance in that green gaze was crowded by sudden recognition. The boy's mouth tightened with anger and frustration. His body stiffened just a bit. Not enough that one would notice, but he'd seen the boy every day of his life for seven years. He knew how to read the boy well enough. In fact, he had expected some kind of telling reaction. He would have been disappointed if there hadn't been anything.
What he hadn't expected was the sudden and intense wave of desire that swept through him at the boy's hateful look. Just the sight of that intense hate made his cock harden. Made him ache for the boy's touch. For whatever reason, he wanted the boy. Wanted him desperately. It didn't matter that he'd hated Potter almost from the day the boy had been born. It didn't matter that he knew without a doubt that Potter would fight him in all things. All that mattered was he wanted the boy. Wanted him and would have him.
His gaze locked with Potter's, he gave the boy a smug smile and raised his hand. "One hundred galleons."
~*~
"Sulking will get you nothing, boy," he said to the bowed head in the corner. Glittering green eyes lifted to glare at him, but the boy said nothing to him. In point of fact, he hadn't said anything since the auction nearly a week ago. Well, he'd said one thing. When they'd been safely away from the crowd and secreted in his dungeons, the boy had scowled at him and, in a much unused voice, had snarled "Traitor!" at him. He'd repaid the boy by shoving him into the bath and cleaning him up. After that, Potter had said nothing. He'd only huddled in the corner, sulked in silence and glared hatefully at the man who now owned him.
Again, Potter said nothing.
Sighing, he pushed his correspondence aside and rose to his feet. He'd given the boy a week to acclimate himself to his new surroundings and to come to terms with his new position. He'd ensured that the boy had been cleaned up and given clean clothes. He'd seen to it that the boy had been well fed, too. While he didn't expect the little wretch to be overflowing with appreciation for purchasing him, he had expected something more than hateful glares and childish silence. He was done with it. It was time to teach the boy what his position was.
He moved over to stand before the boy. Those green eyes held his, brimmed and overflowed with hatred. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared down at his slave. After several long moments of silence, he let his lips twist up in a dark, knowing smile, then one hand reached out and curled in the thick, silky hair that crowned the boy's head. Potter's fingers curled around his wrist as he pulled the boy to his feet. "Let me go! You're a traitorous bastard and I hate you," Potter snarled.
"Hate me all you like, slave. I care nothing for your feelings. The only thing that matters to me at present is that you earn your keep. I have allowed you a week to become accustomed to your new life. You have done nothing but acted like the spoilt brat that I have always known you to be." Hand still twisted in those soft raven locks, he dragged the boy with him toward the bed. Potter's fingernails dug into his skin, sending tiny shock waves of pain radiating up his arm. The brat would have to do more than that if he thought he would make any kind of impact. "I have been quite lenient with you, Potter. But now.. Now it is time for you to find out just why it is you are here."
"You can go to hell, Snape," the boy shot at him.
"If I am to go to hell, I shall take you with me." After shooting Potter that same dark smirk from before, he held one hand out toward his wardrobe. "Accio cuffs."
The boy put up a fight, trying to keep his hands away from Severus' single hand. In the end, though, he was no match for the older man. The boy's hands were caught and pinned together with a set of thick leather cuffs that hooked to one another. A silent wave of Severus' hand brought the rope that was anchored to the head of his bed into his grasp, which he then attached to Potter's cuffs. A second wave saw the rope pulling back, forcing Potter to bend at the waist and lay his torso against the mattress. It also saw him on his tip toes. Snape then knelt and bound the boy's ankles to the corners of his bed, spreading Potter's legs wide.
Severus stepped back and admired his work. The muscles in the boy's legs tightened and flexed as the boy fought against his imprisonment. Thin as he was, Potter hadn't lost any of the muscles he'd built playing Quidditch those years ago. His ass was well formed, curving temptingly down into thighs that looked as if they would hold tight to anything they were wrapped around. The boy's calves were so nicely shaped that it made Severus wonder what it would look like to put Potter into a pair of high heels and make him totter around the dungeons in them.
Leaving his slave to struggle all he wanted, Severus strode to his wardrobe and tugged open a drawer. It was filled with various types of toys and implements that he'd purchased when he'd made the decision to buy a sex slave. He hadn't been sure if he'd come home with a male or female slave, so he'd shopped for both. There were dildos, plugs, gags, blindfolds, paddles, chastity belts and so many other toys to play with. However, since this was the first time he was to play with his toy, he needed to be careful. Choose something that wouldn't hurt the boy... Too much.
The first item he pulled from the drawer was a collar he'd picked up. It was made of chrome and had a single ring on the front that he could attach a leash to. The next item was a combination butt plug and cock ring. Something to initiate the boy before actually using him. The last toy he chose was a ball gag shaped like a penis. There was no time like the present to start training the boy to give his master pleasure. And much as he liked the idea of hearing the boy scream, that was something he wanted to save for later. Content with his choices, he finally picked up a bottle of lubricant and a condom. Then he returned to the boy's side.
Those green eyes watched his return, wariness in their depths. At least until the boy saw what Severus carried with him. Then the anger returned and the struggling intensified. Ignoring him, Severus laid each item out carefully on the bed. It gave Potter a chance to look at every last thing he'd selected. He turned his attention to the boy's face to find Gryffindor's golden boy glaring up at him. "I believe we shall start with the gag."
"Not on your life, Snape," Harry snapped before clamping his lips together.
"Very well. Then I shall insert the plug into your ass. Without any kind of lubrication. It is your choice. Which indignity will be worse?" Severus lifted a brow at the boy. He watched as the given options went through Potter's eyes, watched his slave weigh which would be the more difficult for him to bear. In the end, the resignation was easy to see and the boy's mouth fell open. Snape smiled as he picked up the gag, then worked it into place with quick, efficient motions of his hands. "Might I suggest that you spend your time sucking on that? I would have you properly trained before I set you the task of wrapping your lips around my cock and sucking me off."
With those words still hanging on the air, Snape stepped around the bed and made quick work of his trousers. The past week had been hell for him, his body demanding that he take the boy and use him. Wasn't that the purpose for which he'd purchased Potter? Each night, he'd lain in bed and listened to the boy's soft breathing. His body had responded so intensely that he'd been forced to fist himself every night while visions of Potter's naked body beneath his had run through his mind. A week had been long enough to wait.
He was already hard and aching as he released himself from his trousers. The head of his cock wept with the need to feel his slave's flesh wrapped around it. Absently, as he set about removing the condom from its wrapper and working it up his length, he wondered at this strange power that the boy seemed to have on him. His mother had had the same power so many years ago. Had she passed whatever magic it was on to her son? Was it all in the eyes? Or was it something more? He'd always thought himself straight. But something about Potter spoke to him the way nothing else ever had.
Severus had known the moment he'd laid eyes on the boy that he had to have him.
When the condom was in place, he turned next to the lube. Lifting it, he unscrewed the cap. It was left lying on the bed so that his free hand could touch his slave. He let his fingers trail over the curves of Potter's ass, smiled when he felt the boy flinch under them. His hand ran down between Potter's thighs so that his fingers could brush the boy's balls. Just a touch. Enough to see the boy shudder. Then he brought those same fingers back up, trailing them along the crack between his cheeks. When he reached the pucker of the boy's asshole, he applied enough pressure to force a gasp past the gag.
Severus removed his fingers so that he could press the tube of lubricant to the tight ring of muscle and past. Just the very top of the tube made it inside of Potter before he tensed and squeezed himself down around it to halt the intrusion. The action brought another gasp, likely because the liquid was cold and foreign. When it became obvious that Snape wasn't going to push the tube in any farther, Potter relaxed and allowed Severus to pull the tube free. A pair of his fingers quickly took the tube's place.
He didn't know why he was taking such care with Potter's preparation. He wasn't sure if it was because this was Lily's son or if it was because he'd once made a promise to Dumbledore to always watch over the boy. Dismissing the reason as unimportant, Severus allowed his fingers to glide in and out of the boy's body. He would occasionally spread them wide to help loosen the muscles clutching at them as he thrust them in and pulled them out. And he noted that Potter gradually relaxed himself, began moaning around the gag in his mouth. Began lifting his hips up to seek the small pleasure that he was being given.
Twice more, Severus added lube to the boy's backside. Twice more his fingers wrung soft moans and cries from the boy's throat. Twice more, he told himself that he would soon have his wicked way with his slave. Twice more, he reminded himself that he must only think of the boy as Potter or his slave or the boy. Never as Harry.
Potter was writhing against the mattress, hungry noises sounding behind the gag. His hands were clenched around a fistful of Snape's bedding. Sweat glistened across the boy's back, painting him with dew drops of desire that said the boy was ready. Severus reached out with his free hand to find that the boy's cock was growing hard under his ministrations. It was time.
Drawing his hands away, he quickly smeared lube up the length of his condom encased cock. Even before Potter seemed to realize that Snape had stopped touching him, Severus had the head pressed against the boy's anus. Before Potter had time to think about what was happening, Severus pushed himself inside.
Potter tensed as a muffled, strangled cry filled the air. Severus had to force himself to stop, lest he seriously injure the boy. Much as people thought he was a right ass, he had no desire to fuck the boy whilst coated in his slave's blood. It was so hard to come to a halt. The feel of Potter's ass wrapped around the head of his erection was hot and all he wanted to do was shove in deep. Draw back and shove in again.
All he wanted to do was fuck the boy.
The wait seemed to last forever, but Potter gradually began to relax again. So slowly, Severus inched himself forward. Press and wait. Press and wait. Press and wait until he'd buried himself completely within Potter's body and the heat enveloped his length. The contrast of the lube, cool and wet against the dry heat of the flesh wrapped around him, was almost enough to make him forget himself. Severus had to remind himself that he was fucking the boy. Not making love to him. He had to remind himself that the boy was his slave and had no choice in the matter.
Angry with himself for that momentary lapse, he reached forward and twisted his hand into Potter's hair. There was a cry of pain behind the gag as Snape tugged the boy's head back so that he was in an awkward position. "Remember this, boy. You are my slave. I will do with you as I please. I will take you when and where I want. Even if you are not prepared for it. I was gentle with you tonight, but that is only because you are new to this. Now... I am going to fuck you." He drew his hips back until the boy's muscles were caught on the head of Severus' cock. "Hard."
His hips lunged forward, driving himself back into Potter's body. The thrust drew a louder cry from the boy. Severus ignored it, focusing only on the feel of the boy wrapped around him and the intense friction the boy's muscles provided. It was a heady feeling that sent pleasure spiraling through his body until it coiled tight in his belly and waited for just the right moment.
The room was silent, save for the soft sounds of Potter's cries and sobs and the sound of flesh slapping flesh. Severus had long since closed his eyes and given himself over to his task. It had been far too long since he'd last lain with someone and it took everything within his control to keep himself from exploding in orgasm only five minutes after starting. He thought of potion recipes and the letters he had to send out come the morning. He thought of giving detention to misbehaving students. He thought of anything and everything that would stave off his orgasm because he wanted to spend as much time as he could enjoying Potter's ass.
When he finally came, it was with a cry of completion that echoed loudly around the room. He held himself still with his cock pressed as deep as it could go until the last spurt of his seed had been milked from his body by the clenching of Potter's muscles. He didn't pull out until his cock started softening.
Severus took his time disposing of the condom and cleaning himself up. Once he had his trousers done up and in place, he returned to the bed to find that his slave was shifting his hips against the bedding in the hopes of giving himself his own release. "I have not given you permission yet!" he snapped. One hand landed loudly against the boy's bum, drawing a moaning cry from the bound slave. "Just for that..."
He undid the restraints that held the boy's legs wide, then flipped him over onto his back. Potter's cock was red with blood, weeping pre-cum and eager for the touch that would see him climaxing. Severus retrieved the plug he'd brought with and worked it into place, fitting the end past the boy's anus until it was in his ass. Potter gave another soft cry and lifted his hips in silent supplication. Severus took hold of his slave's cock and gave it a quick tug, then latched the ring around the base, locking the boy's balls inside so that there was no way he could orgasm without Severus' permission.
A quick spell turned the canopy of his bed into a mirror. Severus leaned down so that his mouth was against Potter's ear. "I want you to lay here and look at yourself. Look at what a hungry little whore you are. Look at how hard your cock is. Look at what I have done to you. I want you to know that I am responsible for your need. And only I can give you the release you so desperately want."
The collar went on easily enough, locking in place with a few turns of the allen wrench that came with it. Candlelight flickered off the shiny surface. The word "pet" had been engraved into its surface. Severus let his fingers graze it. "This marks you as mine, boy. Remember that. I own you now and you will do my bidding without complaint. If you fail to act accordingly, I will punish you."
Potter's eyes watched as he drew his wand from his robes and pointed the tip at the boy's hip. "This is to remind you and everyone else who might see it that you belong to me." Another whispered spell saw the symbol of Slytherin etched permanently into the boy's pale flesh. The skin reddened around it and the boy's body writhed in reaction. Tears slid down his cheeks and his eyes reflected the pain he felt.
Smirking, Severus reached out and gave the boy's cock another stroke that drew whimpers from his slave. Then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the back of the gag. "Suck at that cock in your mouth, boy. The next time you have one pass your lips, it will be mine. And I will expect you to apply yourself to it. If not, I shall find new ways to torture you."
Rising up, he headed for his correspondence again. Just before he sat at his desk, he stopped and turned to look at Potter over his shoulder. "On second thought, fail. I want to punish you. I will use pain to bring you pleasure, until all you can do is beg me to abuse you. You will be my sweet little pain whore, boy. And you will love every minute of it."
Universe: Harry Potter
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Rating: mature. M/M sex (slash!), some language, bondage and domination.
Word Count: 4,794
Disclaimer: i do not own Severus, Harry or any of the familiar settings found within this fic. they are all owned by the brilliant Jo Rowling. i am only borrowing for the purpose of entertainment and will give them back after i'm done with them. i make absolutely nothing from the writing of this fic other than the comments others might wish to leave me. please don't sue me. i gots no money.
Summary: Severus decides he wants a sex slave, so he goes out to buy himself one.
Author's Note: written for liliaeth based on the kinks and pairings listed on her LiveJournal for the Five Acts Meme. i really hope that you like this as i wasn't sure just how deep to go with it. also, though i'm sure everyone will realize this, it is set in an AU version of the Potter World.
He hated the market. It was a dirty, nasty, disgusting place. Too many people clustered together along the main walks, leaving him uncomfortable. It didn't matter that no one dared look at him with anything beyond fear anymore. It didn't matter that men, women and children scurried out of his path when they saw him coming. None of this mattered because he simply hated people. He hated children, always so loud and boisterous and annoying. He hated women, with their petty jealousies and inane chatter about unimportant things. He hated men, who seemed to find him as a source of amusement. He hated them all. If he hadn't needed supplies, he wouldn't have dared venture from his dungeon rooms below the blasted school he called home.
So much had changed since Potter had failed. The war had grown until it had consumed the magical world. After Potter's defeat, anyone who had publicly opposed Voldemort had been quickly and viciously cut down. Many members of the Order had been slaughtered, though a few had managed to flee and hide. Rumors had them hiding anywhere from France to Italy to Greece to Scandinavia and even the Americas. He had no idea if there was any truth to such things. Nor did he care. All he cared about was keeping his tenuous place in Voldemort's new order and new world. He'd happily taken Hogwarts as his own, as much because it was more his home than that cramped little building in Spinner's End as there was still a part of him that felt he owed it to Dumbledore. The meddling old goat.
The school wasn't as crowded with children as it once had been. But they still came. And it was his responsibility to see to their education. Administrating the school didn't allow him much time to get out and be social. Not that he was a social creature. But a man had needs that had to be filled. Needs that one found with an adult companion. Needs he wasn't about to announce to the entire school body. Those needs were what had seen him living the shelter of the castle and heading to the market.
The market, the slave market, was as loud as his private chambers in the dungeons were quiet. There were people clustered in pairs and groups, eagerly awaiting the newest group of slaves to be put up for sale. It had been enacted by Voldemort's orders, a way to dispose of his detractors without killing them. It had become common place for anyone who opposed him to end up crossing the boards of the small dais that had been erected in an empty corner of Diagon Alley. Wealthy families could buy slaves for any number of reasons, from simple servants who did the same job as House Elves to a sexual slave that might be used for breeding. All of this was, of course, dependent upon their blood.
Busy man that he was, he had little time to seek out a sexual companion. But being a man, he still had those primal urges. There was no way he would stoop to paying a tart for sex. There was no telling what kind of foul diseases a street walker would carry on her person. And it was supremely asinine to spend an exorbitant sum of money for a singular encounter when he could pay a goodly sum for a slave that would have little choice but to do whatever he wished of them. And a slave would be someone he could slake his lusts upon without emotional entanglements.
Slipping up close to the dais, he leaned up against the wall and waited. He'd been to one or two of these affairs before and they were always long. Tedious. Boring. But he couldn't think of any other place to go to find a sexual partner. There was no where else he could go that would provide him with someone who would be willing to do as he instructed. More or less. So he would suffer through an auction in the hopes of finding just the right person. Hopefully this venture wouldn't be a complete waste of his time.
As luck would have it, the auction started only moments later. There was a large crowd gathered to see the offerings, though most of them were unlikely there to do anything more. He knew from past experience that most of the crowd was simply there to ogle the latest poor souls who had been unlucky enough to get caught thinking contrary to what they'd been told they could think. Only a handful of the people in the crowd were actually there to bid on the slaves. That made greater his chances of being able to pick the slave he wanted.
He watched silently as one body after another was paraded across the little stage. Each of them appeared to have spent some amount of time in a cell somewhere, as they were covered in filth and dressed in rags. Every single one of them looked a if they had been deprived of food, their arms thin enough to look like sticks. He was having a hard time picturing them clean, dressed and properly fed. In fact, none of them looked terribly appealing. He was starting to think that this venture had been nothing more than a waste of his time. He was just getting ready to push his way through the crowd and leave when the slave hawker's voice broke over the crowd. "My fine Witches and Wizards! We have a last minute addition to the line up for your consideration."
Much against his will, sure that he would be shown more of the same, he turned and stared at the scrap of dirt and rags that the hawker's hand held to tightly. The boy or girl's head was down, their hair caked in dirt. The clothing the miserable creature wore was little more than strips of cloth held together by filth. "This one was just brought to me, supposedly released from the very bowels of Azkaban. It doesn't seem like this one is good for much, though I've been assured he's quite strong and capable. I've also been told he's amenable to any task set to him. Who will take this rare prize home with him?"
He stared at the boy the hawker held, eyes narrowed on the huddled figure. It was so terribly hard to make a decision when he couldn't see the lad's face or his form. Ridiculous rags. He needed a better view if he was going to choose whether or not to take this one home with him. "Show us `is face!" someone yelled from the back of the crowd.
"Here now, boy. Show the crowd your pretty face," the hawker ordered before reaching out and curling his hand into the clumps of dirty hair on the boy's head, then he jerked the head back so that everyone could see the dirt smudged face. Something inside of him shifted as he caught sight of something familiar there. It was hard to see it through all of the dirt, but he thought he knew that face. His gaze snapped up to the boy's eyes and everything clicked.
He'd seen those eyes before, seen the determination burning in them before. He imagined that, if he stripped away the dirt, he'd find a messy head of black hair that hid a lightning bolt scar. If the rags were gone, he'd discover a lithe body that belonged to a boy who had been the greatest Seeker Hogwarts had ever seen. How was such a thing possible? Potter was supposed to be dead. He'd been there. He'd seen the final battle. He'd seen the body.
Hadn't he?
"Come now. Surely someone wants this fine specimen. No doubt he can at least carry a pail of water and scrub the floor. Who will bid on the boy?" the hawker called, his gaze scanning the crowd. No one seemed to be willing to be the first to make an offer. "One hundred galleons! Do I hear one hundred galleons?"
Those sharp green eyes moved over the gathered crowd, searching to see if someone was willing to bid. Did the boy hope someone would make an offer for him? Or did he hope that no one would make an offer? One hundred galleons wasn't a terribly outrageous price for a slave. Did the hawker not know who he held in his hands? Was he the only man in all of England who could see just who it was that stood on the stage before them, defiance sparkling in those familiar green eyes? Was he the only one who knew just how important the boy had been? Still could be?
He could remember well the first time he'd seen those green eyes. Well, not exactly those green eyes. His mother's green eyes. He'd seen so many different emotions in her green eyes. They'd sparkled like emeralds when she'd smiled at him. They'd darkened when she'd been angry. And they'd shone with defiance when the lines had been drawn and she had chosen her side. He'd seen those same emotions in the eyes of her son time and time again. Just like now.
Those eyes found him, found him and locked to his eyes, and his breath caught in his throat. The defiance in that green gaze was crowded by sudden recognition. The boy's mouth tightened with anger and frustration. His body stiffened just a bit. Not enough that one would notice, but he'd seen the boy every day of his life for seven years. He knew how to read the boy well enough. In fact, he had expected some kind of telling reaction. He would have been disappointed if there hadn't been anything.
What he hadn't expected was the sudden and intense wave of desire that swept through him at the boy's hateful look. Just the sight of that intense hate made his cock harden. Made him ache for the boy's touch. For whatever reason, he wanted the boy. Wanted him desperately. It didn't matter that he'd hated Potter almost from the day the boy had been born. It didn't matter that he knew without a doubt that Potter would fight him in all things. All that mattered was he wanted the boy. Wanted him and would have him.
His gaze locked with Potter's, he gave the boy a smug smile and raised his hand. "One hundred galleons."
~*~
"Sulking will get you nothing, boy," he said to the bowed head in the corner. Glittering green eyes lifted to glare at him, but the boy said nothing to him. In point of fact, he hadn't said anything since the auction nearly a week ago. Well, he'd said one thing. When they'd been safely away from the crowd and secreted in his dungeons, the boy had scowled at him and, in a much unused voice, had snarled "Traitor!" at him. He'd repaid the boy by shoving him into the bath and cleaning him up. After that, Potter had said nothing. He'd only huddled in the corner, sulked in silence and glared hatefully at the man who now owned him.
Again, Potter said nothing.
Sighing, he pushed his correspondence aside and rose to his feet. He'd given the boy a week to acclimate himself to his new surroundings and to come to terms with his new position. He'd ensured that the boy had been cleaned up and given clean clothes. He'd seen to it that the boy had been well fed, too. While he didn't expect the little wretch to be overflowing with appreciation for purchasing him, he had expected something more than hateful glares and childish silence. He was done with it. It was time to teach the boy what his position was.
He moved over to stand before the boy. Those green eyes held his, brimmed and overflowed with hatred. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared down at his slave. After several long moments of silence, he let his lips twist up in a dark, knowing smile, then one hand reached out and curled in the thick, silky hair that crowned the boy's head. Potter's fingers curled around his wrist as he pulled the boy to his feet. "Let me go! You're a traitorous bastard and I hate you," Potter snarled.
"Hate me all you like, slave. I care nothing for your feelings. The only thing that matters to me at present is that you earn your keep. I have allowed you a week to become accustomed to your new life. You have done nothing but acted like the spoilt brat that I have always known you to be." Hand still twisted in those soft raven locks, he dragged the boy with him toward the bed. Potter's fingernails dug into his skin, sending tiny shock waves of pain radiating up his arm. The brat would have to do more than that if he thought he would make any kind of impact. "I have been quite lenient with you, Potter. But now.. Now it is time for you to find out just why it is you are here."
"You can go to hell, Snape," the boy shot at him.
"If I am to go to hell, I shall take you with me." After shooting Potter that same dark smirk from before, he held one hand out toward his wardrobe. "Accio cuffs."
The boy put up a fight, trying to keep his hands away from Severus' single hand. In the end, though, he was no match for the older man. The boy's hands were caught and pinned together with a set of thick leather cuffs that hooked to one another. A silent wave of Severus' hand brought the rope that was anchored to the head of his bed into his grasp, which he then attached to Potter's cuffs. A second wave saw the rope pulling back, forcing Potter to bend at the waist and lay his torso against the mattress. It also saw him on his tip toes. Snape then knelt and bound the boy's ankles to the corners of his bed, spreading Potter's legs wide.
Severus stepped back and admired his work. The muscles in the boy's legs tightened and flexed as the boy fought against his imprisonment. Thin as he was, Potter hadn't lost any of the muscles he'd built playing Quidditch those years ago. His ass was well formed, curving temptingly down into thighs that looked as if they would hold tight to anything they were wrapped around. The boy's calves were so nicely shaped that it made Severus wonder what it would look like to put Potter into a pair of high heels and make him totter around the dungeons in them.
Leaving his slave to struggle all he wanted, Severus strode to his wardrobe and tugged open a drawer. It was filled with various types of toys and implements that he'd purchased when he'd made the decision to buy a sex slave. He hadn't been sure if he'd come home with a male or female slave, so he'd shopped for both. There were dildos, plugs, gags, blindfolds, paddles, chastity belts and so many other toys to play with. However, since this was the first time he was to play with his toy, he needed to be careful. Choose something that wouldn't hurt the boy... Too much.
The first item he pulled from the drawer was a collar he'd picked up. It was made of chrome and had a single ring on the front that he could attach a leash to. The next item was a combination butt plug and cock ring. Something to initiate the boy before actually using him. The last toy he chose was a ball gag shaped like a penis. There was no time like the present to start training the boy to give his master pleasure. And much as he liked the idea of hearing the boy scream, that was something he wanted to save for later. Content with his choices, he finally picked up a bottle of lubricant and a condom. Then he returned to the boy's side.
Those green eyes watched his return, wariness in their depths. At least until the boy saw what Severus carried with him. Then the anger returned and the struggling intensified. Ignoring him, Severus laid each item out carefully on the bed. It gave Potter a chance to look at every last thing he'd selected. He turned his attention to the boy's face to find Gryffindor's golden boy glaring up at him. "I believe we shall start with the gag."
"Not on your life, Snape," Harry snapped before clamping his lips together.
"Very well. Then I shall insert the plug into your ass. Without any kind of lubrication. It is your choice. Which indignity will be worse?" Severus lifted a brow at the boy. He watched as the given options went through Potter's eyes, watched his slave weigh which would be the more difficult for him to bear. In the end, the resignation was easy to see and the boy's mouth fell open. Snape smiled as he picked up the gag, then worked it into place with quick, efficient motions of his hands. "Might I suggest that you spend your time sucking on that? I would have you properly trained before I set you the task of wrapping your lips around my cock and sucking me off."
With those words still hanging on the air, Snape stepped around the bed and made quick work of his trousers. The past week had been hell for him, his body demanding that he take the boy and use him. Wasn't that the purpose for which he'd purchased Potter? Each night, he'd lain in bed and listened to the boy's soft breathing. His body had responded so intensely that he'd been forced to fist himself every night while visions of Potter's naked body beneath his had run through his mind. A week had been long enough to wait.
He was already hard and aching as he released himself from his trousers. The head of his cock wept with the need to feel his slave's flesh wrapped around it. Absently, as he set about removing the condom from its wrapper and working it up his length, he wondered at this strange power that the boy seemed to have on him. His mother had had the same power so many years ago. Had she passed whatever magic it was on to her son? Was it all in the eyes? Or was it something more? He'd always thought himself straight. But something about Potter spoke to him the way nothing else ever had.
Severus had known the moment he'd laid eyes on the boy that he had to have him.
When the condom was in place, he turned next to the lube. Lifting it, he unscrewed the cap. It was left lying on the bed so that his free hand could touch his slave. He let his fingers trail over the curves of Potter's ass, smiled when he felt the boy flinch under them. His hand ran down between Potter's thighs so that his fingers could brush the boy's balls. Just a touch. Enough to see the boy shudder. Then he brought those same fingers back up, trailing them along the crack between his cheeks. When he reached the pucker of the boy's asshole, he applied enough pressure to force a gasp past the gag.
Severus removed his fingers so that he could press the tube of lubricant to the tight ring of muscle and past. Just the very top of the tube made it inside of Potter before he tensed and squeezed himself down around it to halt the intrusion. The action brought another gasp, likely because the liquid was cold and foreign. When it became obvious that Snape wasn't going to push the tube in any farther, Potter relaxed and allowed Severus to pull the tube free. A pair of his fingers quickly took the tube's place.
He didn't know why he was taking such care with Potter's preparation. He wasn't sure if it was because this was Lily's son or if it was because he'd once made a promise to Dumbledore to always watch over the boy. Dismissing the reason as unimportant, Severus allowed his fingers to glide in and out of the boy's body. He would occasionally spread them wide to help loosen the muscles clutching at them as he thrust them in and pulled them out. And he noted that Potter gradually relaxed himself, began moaning around the gag in his mouth. Began lifting his hips up to seek the small pleasure that he was being given.
Twice more, Severus added lube to the boy's backside. Twice more his fingers wrung soft moans and cries from the boy's throat. Twice more, he told himself that he would soon have his wicked way with his slave. Twice more, he reminded himself that he must only think of the boy as Potter or his slave or the boy. Never as Harry.
Potter was writhing against the mattress, hungry noises sounding behind the gag. His hands were clenched around a fistful of Snape's bedding. Sweat glistened across the boy's back, painting him with dew drops of desire that said the boy was ready. Severus reached out with his free hand to find that the boy's cock was growing hard under his ministrations. It was time.
Drawing his hands away, he quickly smeared lube up the length of his condom encased cock. Even before Potter seemed to realize that Snape had stopped touching him, Severus had the head pressed against the boy's anus. Before Potter had time to think about what was happening, Severus pushed himself inside.
Potter tensed as a muffled, strangled cry filled the air. Severus had to force himself to stop, lest he seriously injure the boy. Much as people thought he was a right ass, he had no desire to fuck the boy whilst coated in his slave's blood. It was so hard to come to a halt. The feel of Potter's ass wrapped around the head of his erection was hot and all he wanted to do was shove in deep. Draw back and shove in again.
All he wanted to do was fuck the boy.
The wait seemed to last forever, but Potter gradually began to relax again. So slowly, Severus inched himself forward. Press and wait. Press and wait. Press and wait until he'd buried himself completely within Potter's body and the heat enveloped his length. The contrast of the lube, cool and wet against the dry heat of the flesh wrapped around him, was almost enough to make him forget himself. Severus had to remind himself that he was fucking the boy. Not making love to him. He had to remind himself that the boy was his slave and had no choice in the matter.
Angry with himself for that momentary lapse, he reached forward and twisted his hand into Potter's hair. There was a cry of pain behind the gag as Snape tugged the boy's head back so that he was in an awkward position. "Remember this, boy. You are my slave. I will do with you as I please. I will take you when and where I want. Even if you are not prepared for it. I was gentle with you tonight, but that is only because you are new to this. Now... I am going to fuck you." He drew his hips back until the boy's muscles were caught on the head of Severus' cock. "Hard."
His hips lunged forward, driving himself back into Potter's body. The thrust drew a louder cry from the boy. Severus ignored it, focusing only on the feel of the boy wrapped around him and the intense friction the boy's muscles provided. It was a heady feeling that sent pleasure spiraling through his body until it coiled tight in his belly and waited for just the right moment.
The room was silent, save for the soft sounds of Potter's cries and sobs and the sound of flesh slapping flesh. Severus had long since closed his eyes and given himself over to his task. It had been far too long since he'd last lain with someone and it took everything within his control to keep himself from exploding in orgasm only five minutes after starting. He thought of potion recipes and the letters he had to send out come the morning. He thought of giving detention to misbehaving students. He thought of anything and everything that would stave off his orgasm because he wanted to spend as much time as he could enjoying Potter's ass.
When he finally came, it was with a cry of completion that echoed loudly around the room. He held himself still with his cock pressed as deep as it could go until the last spurt of his seed had been milked from his body by the clenching of Potter's muscles. He didn't pull out until his cock started softening.
Severus took his time disposing of the condom and cleaning himself up. Once he had his trousers done up and in place, he returned to the bed to find that his slave was shifting his hips against the bedding in the hopes of giving himself his own release. "I have not given you permission yet!" he snapped. One hand landed loudly against the boy's bum, drawing a moaning cry from the bound slave. "Just for that..."
He undid the restraints that held the boy's legs wide, then flipped him over onto his back. Potter's cock was red with blood, weeping pre-cum and eager for the touch that would see him climaxing. Severus retrieved the plug he'd brought with and worked it into place, fitting the end past the boy's anus until it was in his ass. Potter gave another soft cry and lifted his hips in silent supplication. Severus took hold of his slave's cock and gave it a quick tug, then latched the ring around the base, locking the boy's balls inside so that there was no way he could orgasm without Severus' permission.
A quick spell turned the canopy of his bed into a mirror. Severus leaned down so that his mouth was against Potter's ear. "I want you to lay here and look at yourself. Look at what a hungry little whore you are. Look at how hard your cock is. Look at what I have done to you. I want you to know that I am responsible for your need. And only I can give you the release you so desperately want."
The collar went on easily enough, locking in place with a few turns of the allen wrench that came with it. Candlelight flickered off the shiny surface. The word "pet" had been engraved into its surface. Severus let his fingers graze it. "This marks you as mine, boy. Remember that. I own you now and you will do my bidding without complaint. If you fail to act accordingly, I will punish you."
Potter's eyes watched as he drew his wand from his robes and pointed the tip at the boy's hip. "This is to remind you and everyone else who might see it that you belong to me." Another whispered spell saw the symbol of Slytherin etched permanently into the boy's pale flesh. The skin reddened around it and the boy's body writhed in reaction. Tears slid down his cheeks and his eyes reflected the pain he felt.
Smirking, Severus reached out and gave the boy's cock another stroke that drew whimpers from his slave. Then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the back of the gag. "Suck at that cock in your mouth, boy. The next time you have one pass your lips, it will be mine. And I will expect you to apply yourself to it. If not, I shall find new ways to torture you."
Rising up, he headed for his correspondence again. Just before he sat at his desk, he stopped and turned to look at Potter over his shoulder. "On second thought, fail. I want to punish you. I will use pain to bring you pleasure, until all you can do is beg me to abuse you. You will be my sweet little pain whore, boy. And you will love every minute of it."