Chapter Text
Harry lay where Voldemort had left him, shackled with his ass dripping and dick once more erect; it had been less than five minutes since his last climax. Draco had left to get water to clean him, so he was trying to make his renewed erection dissipate. But every time he seemed to be getting anywhere Voldemort would get angry, Harry felt it through their link, and his dick would spring up again. Enraged Voldemort was his favourite, by far. He wished he could read to attempt to distract himself.
The bucket sloshed as it was placed beside him. Draco began his work, though Harry couldn't feel anything directly the water did fall down his legs, pleasantly warm. "Draco." Harry tried, not English but Draco had learnt his name, and fixed Harry with a curious look. Harry sighed. Of course he wasn't feeling loyal, he was wanting to ask if Voldemort was lying to him about giving Tom Riddle a fake past so he could re-enter the wizarding world without anyone linking him to the truth. That Tom Riddle was now an upstanding and respected citizen.
Harry slumped back. He didn't need to watch Draco, anyway he couldn't see what Draco was doing after he moved down to clean Harry's ass. When Draco moved onto the rest of him, he lay enjoying the warmth and attention until Draco spoke.
"My Lord said he would be late. He's going to send someone else to shag you for lunch, unless you can ask me for them not to and don't start with the begging for sex before he returns."
Harry cursed in parseltongue. Of course he wouldn't feel loyal after that, even if he had before. Voldemort knew he hated other people in him. That 'someone' meant one of the prisoners of his war on a lust potion with some form of love potion so they would target Harry rather than Draco or their handler that brought them to Draco. And to rationalise that as Voldemort making sure his needs were met so he could ask for it not to happen always led to him accepting its necessary nature.
Silence filled the room apart from the sounds of water splashing when Draco put the cloth in the bucket and water dripping as he returned it to clean Harry.
"You're starting to show." Harry looked down to where Draco was lightly washing him, sure enough his stomach was slightly bigger than normal. And while his breasts never really went away anymore, he did think they were bigger than they had been last month. "Do you think he'll let you keep this one?"
Harry shook his head. The last time Voldemort had asked for his hand Harry had said yes, in parseltongue. Which turned out not to be good enough. Voldemort wanted Harry to wed him in loyalty, to submit to his wish for their children to be legitimate. Harry wasn't sure why.
"I could get you your receiving blanket, then whoever it is that comes for you won't see it?"
Harry nodded. He wished he'd tried to befriend Draco sooner, back in Hogwarts. Draco could be so thoughtful sometimes. Generally Draco was cautious, never wanting to upset Harry or anger him. And when Harry was upset, regardless of the source, Draco would try to cheer him up by teaching him. From the things that made potions and occlumency make sense to spells that Harry hadn't even heard of. In return Harry taught Draco the spells he knew that Draco didn't and bits of Parseltongue. Though Draco still struggled with speaking and his understanding was piss-poor, having him around was a comfort Harry would kill for loosing even when stuck talking parseltongue.
Hours passed before Lestrange came, with Harry's promised fuck. Draco left; he hated watching people, other than Voldemort, with Harry. Lestrange did not; she always stayed and watched often heckling with calls of slut, fuck toy, slave to passion and many more that Harry mostly tried to forget. It upset Harry, but he tried to hide his emotions, but he always ended up focusing on the betrayal more than passion, hating the tears that gave way how much it destroyed him every time.
Harry felt them breach him. His body moved without permission to make it easier, but it was still painful like it was with everyone that wasn't Voldemort, however he revealed in that pain as all he would get from this partner. He could feel tears already trickling down the side of face.
He didn't look at his partner. They moved in and out; exactly what he needed with none of what he wanted. The damned curse fluctuated rather than vibrated, something he now knew was caused by the false arousal of his partner; they had no attraction to him really. His partner then took his penis in hand, which was new. Most of the people rode him until their completion, if Harry was lucky his own would happen first. Regardless he would be more settled afterwards for a while, though no less horny for Voldemort.
Harry couldn't stop the way his body tried to buck and squirm, his binds holding him nearly completely still and wide open. The other person moaned. Deep, longing and vaguely familiar. He looked at the person then. They were polyjuiced to look like him. Which meant someone he used to know well. He closed his eyes and tried to place the noises coming from his assailant. But after ruling out Ginny and every friend he had ever almost walked in on while they wanked he had no idea what made him recognise the sounds of this person's enjoyment of him.
The person stilled, pumping semen into his ass. Once that was done they began tugging at Harry's dick, but made no motion to leave him. Which explained why Harry had recognised the sounds. They had done this before, they knew if they left Harry they would be led away. Harry tried shifting urgently then, wanting it over and for his ex-friend to be gone rather than here, getting harder in his ass. When they did became hard again they began snapping their hips in and out. They leaned into kiss him and pushed a tongue into his mouth. He bit them, their tongue retreated and they began nibbling his lips. The thing fluctuated and squeezed his balls hard making Harry shoot semen between them. Though not as forcefully if it were Voldemort, both his mind and his body didn't react as strongly to others, especially those under lust potions.
He became aware that Lestrange was cackling, she must have called him something just before he came. The narrow-minded 'I need to rip passion from this person' faded, the tears did not. It left Harry wanting to crawl to Voldemort and beg him for forgiveness for cheating, even knowing that this was set up by him. The person looked disappointed at the small amount of seamen Harry had produced, ignoring his face and tears. They fingered semen off the blanket where it lay, following the trail back to his dick which got one firm scrape of his tip to get the rest causing it to become harder; he cursed the unexpected roughness making him want them to continue. The person swallowed his semen then stood back to let Lestrange shackle them before they left.
It was a few minutes until Draco returned, refreshed bucket in one hand, tray with lunch on it in the other. He placed both down on the same side of Harry before wiping away tears and promising that he would not be fucked by another unknown today.
Draco cleaned him, then fed him. He tried talking every so often, but he still wanted to know if Voldemort was telling him the truth about his plans. Anyway he still felt angry at being taken by someone else, so could only hiss at Draco.
"How was my Harry?" Voldemort asked as he walked in. Harry wanted to glare, but couldn't find it in him to lift his head to annoy Voldemort. He was too focused on his throbbing dick, which was dribbling down with precum, and his fluttering asshole that needed to be filled. His lunch fuck had left much to be desired, and he hadn't even become flaccid since his orgasm.
"Disloyal. Uncommunicative otherwise." Draco said.
"Then I guess this is not the time to ask you to marry me?"
"I want to marry you."
"But not to make me happy?"
Harry closed his eyes and tried to want to accept to make Voldemort happy; to want to marry him because they both wanted it rather than because he would kill their unborn child.
"I want to marry you."
Harry opened his eyes, Voldemort looked positively predatory. He cast something on Harry and took the elder wand from where it sat on the shelf between books on childbirth that Harry had been reading before Voldemort had arrived that morning.
Harry tried to demand his fuck, but nothing came out of his mouth. He struggled against his binds, causing them to make noise. Voldemort turned to him putting the wands in his pockets. "I didn't forget about you. I merely wanted to be ready for getting married. You will not use magic before then. You will not talk." Voldemort stalked over, and Harry found himself trying to open himself more, not that he could with his legs already pulled apart as far as they could go and stiff from staying that way most of the day. Voldemort chuckled, Harry recognised it as parsel-laughing.
When Voldemort finally pushed into him Harry tried to sigh, but it seemed even that was prohibited by the new spell on him, one that he hoped was not permanent.
He couldn't wrap his legs to control their fuck, nor tell his lover what he wanted. 'Too slow, too painless', he tried to shout through their mental connection. Something he often tried to pretend didn't exist. No change, he shuddered and jerked as much as his restraints would let him, trying to raise to get the position he favoured if he could get nothing else.
"Pain," Draco reminded, "my Lord."
Voldemort smirked and turned to face him. "Would you like to do it?"
"No!"
"Then I suggest you don't tell me what to do with my fiancée."
"Sorry, my lord."
Voldemort turned back to Harry. "Ah, where was I?" He brushed aside some of Harry's hair. "Oh yes, a new torture. One where you don't experience pain, is it getting to you yet? It's getting to your guardian."
Harry glanced over to Draco, who was watching the doorframe. There was no emotion there; not even the usual serenity Harry had gotten used to glancing at to ensure Draco was still wanting to be there. Voldemort brought his attention back with a kiss on his cheek. Harry turned his head and was met lips to lips. His tongue went forwards, unthinkingly. To be met by firmly sealed lips. It was infuriating. And as his blood boiled at being denied Voldemort rose and slowed his pace. So much that Harry felt it was surely impossible for Voldemort to derive pleasure from it.
Harry found himself staring at the lips that had denied him, twisted in the smile of teaching his followers a lesson. Harry only recognised it because he was now used to sitting under Voldemort at meetings with his followers, held between his legs to show his dominance over Harry. He would cut Harry or rest a hand on his head depending on how good Voldemort viewed him to have been over the last week. He would be lying if he said it didn't arouse him. Especially when he had been good and Voldemort would 'for punishment' dig fingers into his skull or face.
Voldemort's hands traced down his sides, softly and slowly as he pushed in. They stilled on his hips and Voldemort finished his stroke. "I really do love you." Voldemort whispered then sighed deeply before setting up a fast pace, faster than usual.
Each thrust seemed to blend seamlessly into the next, Harry's body jittered as he began to orgasm. By some sort of miracle semen didn't land on his exposed skin. He was too busy staring into Voldemort's eyes to see how badly he had messed up Voldemort's robes. He would 'pay' for that later. He would finish to pain for making Voldemort have to eliminate his semen, because it amused Voldemort.
Voldemort laughed, Harry was too far gone to register if it was parseltongue or not. His orgasmic bliss mixed with still hard dick slapping against Voldemort's taught stomach with each inwards thrust left little room for anything else. Then Voldemort stilled and bent forwards for a kiss. Harry opened his lips, letting his tongue out to lick and nudge the lightly sealed lips that were loosely held against his. They parted and he was sucked inside as much as he pushed inside. Voldemort's tongue moved against his, relaxing him despite his urgent need for pain and to come again. Voldemort snapped his hips in and out once and was filling Harry. His fingers left Harry's hips to wrap around his dick tugging out Harry's next orgasm. He shuddered, his eyes staying closed even as Voldemort took his mouth away from around Harry's tongue.
When Harry opened his eyes he was looking straight down, to see the mess he had left. But Voldemort's robes, black as always, were unmarked by semen. Harry frowned as his eyes trailed up the robes and onto Voldemort's face, past his smirk and onto eyes that somehow seemed a bloodier shade than usual.
"I love you, my deviant. Only I will give you release before our wedding." Harry felt relieved at the simple promise, and melted into the platform. Voldemort placed a gentle hand against Harry's chin and pushed into his mind, Harry could still not stop him even though Draco would be stopped without conscious thought. Voldemort only pushed for a moment, long enough to leave his memory of shagging Harry without violence. "And I see you're getting fat again, I'll send someone to check on your progress tomorrow." Voldemort then summoned the heated blanket to them and wrapped it round Harry. "Draco, get us Dinner."
Draco pushed off the wall and walked away. Harry felt surprised; how Voldemort had been talking put him more in mind of leaving then staying.
Voldemort started his stoking of Harry's hair with one hand as the other released a hand, lead it down to rest under the blanket before switching to do the other. All the while Voldemort muttered all the things he loved about Harry, mostly too quiet for him to hear, but he picked up 'deviant', 'pain', 'beautiful' among others that he recognised as common endearments from Voldemort.
When Draco returned he placed a single tray down. Voldemort took a bite first, and Harry stared, he had never seen Voldemort eat. He had seen Voldemort swallow him, and the motions were similar enough that Harry couldn't help his dick twitching. Voldemort must have felt it as he was leaning against Harry, but he didn't react.
When Voldemort took the second bite Harry considered getting a hand out from under the blanket to feed himself. He dismissed it quickly. He was fed by others, usually Draco, never himself. Like he never washed himself. They were alien to him now. And as he thought that Voldemort leaned in to kiss him. Harry opened his mouth as Voldemort's tongue touched his lips. Instead of an invading tongue food passed his lips, which were encouraged closed by Voldemort's lips dragging them together. He chewed as Voldemort rose to watch him.
It was new, Harry had thought nothing Voldemort could do would surprise him anymore. How long had he even been here? Long enough for Ron and Hermione to have had their second child years ago. Harry vaguely remembered Draco mention that one of them was in Hogwarts. Harry was jealous, as was Draco. Sometimes they would discuss that they wanted children, but it upset them both too much so the conversations where rare and usually only occurred just before or just after Harry gave birth.
Draco hadn't left this place any more than Harry had, and any date his parents arranged for him was invariably interrupted by Voldemort arriving to fuck Harry. Few people stayed for that, and those that did, did so for the wrong reasons according to Draco. Harry wasn't sure there was a good reason to stay; even Draco's one to look after Harry, and because it was soothing.
Harry was distracted from his musings by Voldemort kissing him again, he opened his lips and welcomed the food. Voldemort kept him distracted by rubbing a hand against his dick, shifting the blanket so he was not covered below his waist. It was rough and uneven but he loved it. It didn't feel long until he was spilling himself again nor much longer until the food was gone.
Voldemort replaced the blanket, though Harry was still hard at that point. Voldemort wasted no time in pulling Harry to sit leaning against him with his arm holding Harry still by his waist. Voldemort then produced a cup from his other side, he placed it against Harry's lips and let him drink slowly, letting him savour the flavour of his semen, which explained where it had gone. Once it was finished Voldemort forced his tongue inside taking some of the flavour away with him moments before he disapparated.