Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or Anita Blake. I just like to play with them.

AN: So, Yes, I've started another story. Well I say started, this has been in the works for a while. I've only just start to put it into some semblance of order. I have the plot for the first of the Anita Blake books already worked out so it shouldn't have to many issues.

AN2: in regard to my other works. There will be a pole on my profile in the next few days for whether a certain scene should be in my HP/Zoo crossover. It's been giving me trouble so I've decided to see if you all want to see it.

WARNINGS: This story will have Same Sex pairings of the gay variety. So Man-on-man. Don't like it please don't read. NO Anita Bashing. There WILL be BDSM, Bondage, Toys, Exhibitionism, Role-Play, Orgy (Not 100% official but probably.), Sex with Were's, MAYBE Beasiality (Haven't decided 100% but if so I will warn you at the beginning of the chapter.)

Main Pairings so far: Harry/Jean-Claude. Set just before the beginning of Guilty Pleasures and after the Potter books.

NO ONE UNDER 18 PLEASE! (Will be edited for . Full edition will be on AO3, and maybe AFF.)

Please Read and Review. Especially if there is anything you particularly want to see.

Chapter One: First Meeting and Exclusive Rights

"Harry, The Mistress says there is someone here for you."

Harry spared a glance at Isabella, the mousy girl who played servant to the woman who ran the small brothel known as The Manor.

She looked like what harry thought a mouse in human form might look. Small and easy to overlook. She had only just turned 24 and thought that meant something. Standing at barely 5 feet tall and maybe 100 pounds wet, she had long stringy brown hair that matched her small beady brown eyes. She thought her eyes where her best feature, Doe eyes, she called them. Harry thought she was delusional. She thought herself a great beauty, even though she never had many clients asking for her.

She was wearing her normal smug and scrunched look. Like whoever she was looking at was beneath her and should just except it. Harry had long learned to ignore it. She was the lowest person at The Manor, and she was the only one who didn't realize it.

Harry sighed and stood from his window seat. He rarely left his suite of rooms unless he was meeting with a client. He preferred to just sit and read when he had time to himself.

"Did she have any specific instructions for this meeting?" Usually he wouldn't have to ask, but Isabella was known for withholding information in an attempt to get the worker in trouble. Harry hadn't been punished by the Mistress in over a year and he planned to keep it that way.

Isabella sneered, "No instructions. Must not be that important."

Harry rolled his eyes, putting his book away on the bookshelf near his bed. He would finish it later.

"Are they in the main office?" He asked when Isabella just stood there watching him. He knew what she was waiting for. She seemed to think she could watch who she wanted because she had a 'special' relationship with the Mistress. She didn't realize that the only reason she was still at The Manor was because she could do the leg work for the Mistress. She didn't make enough money with clients to stay otherwise.

It was Isabella's turn to roll her eyes. "Of course, that's where they are. Isn't it obvious?"

Harry really wanted to smack her. "Then there is no more reason for you to be here, so get lost."

Her sneer warped into a snarl, "I'll be sure to tell the Mistress just how rude you have been to me." She stormed out, slamming the door as she did.

Harry shook his head. "Something tells me she isn't going to care." He muttered, as he tried to decide on just what he was meant to wear when there weren't any particular requests. He hummed and just went with his favorite. A green silk, floor-length robe he had received from a client some years ago. He wouldn't worry about anything else. Most requests from clients involved less clothing then the robe, so he should be fine.

The walk from his room to the main office wasn't very long, just had a lot of stairs. The Manor was five floors of debauchery. Well the middle three floors where.

The bottom floor was where the incoming clients signed in, and where searched to make sure they weren't trying to sneak in something that wasn't allowed. They had had an issue with a client trying to sneak in some 'toys' he had brought from home. He hadn't realized just how seriously The Manor took the health and safety of their workers. He had been band, and they had implemented the searches for all customers, just in case. It also held the offices of the Mistress and the guards. The only way up to the other floors was up the one stair case that was guarded on both sides at all times.

The second to fourth floor where the rooms where the guests and workers met. Most rooms had a theme, Egyptian, Roman, or things like BDSM, furry, and other specialized rooms. But there were still some that just had a bed and luxury baths for those that just wanted a fun night with nothing kinky.

The fifth floor was where the workers had their rooms. Just like the first floor to the second. There was only one way up or down from the fifth floor and it too was guarded on both sides. If you weren't a worker, you didn't go up. There were no exceptions.

Harry moved to the back of the first floor where the Mistress's office was located. Well, one of her offices. She had another up front where new incoming clients would meet with her. No one made it into the Manor without first going through the Mistress. And she could be scary when she wanted to be. Harry was sure she was some type of Lycanthrope. Though he had never seen any evidence of it, well except for her ability to scare people with a glare. But that may have been unique to her.

Harry didn't waste any time in knocking on the door. The Mistress hated being kept waiting, but she also hated bad manners. So, knocking before entering any room, even one you were invited to, was always a good idea. You really didn't want to make the Mistress mad.

"You may enter, Little Gem." Came the familiar command in an amused tone that made Harry relax a little.

'Good, at least she isn't mad about anything. So, it shouldn't be a complaint.' He though, opening the door. After one complaint had led to a punishment from the Mistress, Harry wasn't really interested in another.

He entered the office with his eyes down. Fighting the urge to look at whoever it was that had requested him. The Mistress believed it to be bad manners for a worker to look at a client before instructed to.

The office itself wasn't much to look at. It had very little in the form of furniture. But that was intentional. There was an ornate desk with a top of the line computer and a comfortable chair behind it. In front of the desk was a couple of plush chairs for the VIP clients that came back there. That was officially it for the furniture. If the client took up the Mistresses offer of food or drink, a worker was paged to deliver it and act as the table it would stand on. It wasn't unusual for multiple workers to be in this room acting as extra furniture. There was even hidden chains and hooks for special parties that could be held here. Harry had only experienced a few times as furniture, and only one party since he had come to The Manor 3 years ago. Those chosen to serve at parties where usually the experienced workers, while those who were used as tables and the like where the newer workers. It gave them a small taste of just what they were getting themselves into.

Everything else in the room was covered by silk and satin hangings. The main thing the hangings hid was the door off to the side that led to the central security room where the cameras where fed to and where the armory was. That room was always occupied. Even now.

With an even grace he had learned while working at The Manor, Harry stepped over to the spot between the client and the desk. Everyone who had worked in that room had had drilled into their heads. This room had a lot of different rules and ceremonies that where always observed.

He was quick to fall to his knees with his head down and his hands clasped behind his back.

"You summoned me Mistress?"

He kept his head down and motionless while sneaking a peak at the client that sat within inches of him. All he could see through his eyelashes and a few strands of hair that had escaped the low ponytail he had put it in earlier that day was a pair of leather pants that had been tucked into thigh-high leather boots with a slight heel to them. Harry wasn't sure how the pants had been tucked into the boots. Both seemed like they had been painted on.

'With legs that good looking, I wonder what the rest looks like.'

"Yes, Little Gem, our newest guest has requested to purchase Exclusive Rights to you for the next few years."

Harry's head jerked up at the pronouncement to stare at the smirking face of The Mistress.

Exclusive Rights was something that only The Manor had started doing. It was a way for a wealthy client to 'reserve' a worker just for themselves. Sort of a temporary mistress. The worker was basically at the client's beck and call for the duration of the contract. The only down side was that the worker couldn't see any other clients during that time, which cut into any profits they would have made. Making it very expensive to do, so it was really rare that it happened.

It didn't help that on top of the money paid to The Manor to cover the lost profits, the client also had to pay a room rental fee if they were leaving the worker at The Manor, they had to pay for food and other essentials as well. Including spending money that the worker would have made had they still been seeing others. Most clients didn't care for the hassle so didn't bother unless they had grown particularly fond of a worker.

But according to The Mistress this client was new. So, Harry had never serviced him before. So why was he asking for Exclusive Rights to a worker he had never met?

Green eyes went wide when The Mistress cleared her throat. He had broken position, in front of a client. A very wealthy client. If he wasn't in trouble before, he certainly was now.

Harry blushed and lowered his head again to look at the floor in front of the clients' boots. The heat in his face seemed to double when the client laughed. Harry bit his lip to keep in the needy whine that wanted to escape. The laugh seemed like it was actually caressing him under the robe. The laugh also gave him clues as to just who this person was. A man, and a vampire.

'If that's what he can do with his laugh, I'm not sure I want to know what his voice is capable of.' Harry though as he moved into what was known as the 'apology' position.

His hands stayed clasped behind his back, each hand holding and opposite wrist to keep from letting go, he spread his knees as far as they would go and bent forward until his forehead was only just brushing the carpet in front of the vampire's feet.

"Now this is a lovely sight," the vampire purred.

Harry gulped, trying to control his breathing. 'I was right, His voice is better the laugh. Who is this vampire?'

"There is a reason he is one of our highest profiting workers here at The Manor."

"I suppose that is the reason for the rather excessive price," the mysterious vampire commented, a distinct French accent tickling Harrys ears as he held the position he was in.

Harry could feel the weight of the vampires' gaze as he tried not to move. He knew this position could get painful when left to long. It could be a punishment in itself.

"I assure you, our little gem is well worth the price."

The Mistress went through all the training she had put Harry through in the 3 years he had been working there.

After everything that had happened in England with Voldemort, Harry had decided he needed a change of scenery. So, he left. He hadn't bothered to tell anyone where he was going or why. He just left. He hadn't wanted to risk anyone trying to stop him. For his own good of course. Far be it for any of them to let him live his life his way. Oh no, they knew better.

He had just turned 17 when he had found his way to St. Louis. Well, just outside of the main city. He had made friends with a young boy who worked at The Manor. David had told him how things where run at The Manor. Harry had been intrigued. He wasn't prudish, he knew he enjoyed sex and wasn't really picky what kind or who with. He just liked it, so figured why not make it a job. So, he had gone to apply and never looked back. He preferred the life he had over the one he left. Less stressful.

"How old is the Petite pute?" Inquired the still un-named vampire. The guest shifted just enough to rest one of his boot covered feet on the bent, silk covered back. "I'd rather avoid upsetting the officials."

Harry felt his blush return, he knew he looked younger then he was. He changed much since his 18th birthday, even then he had only looked, maybe 15-16. He still did, even into his 20's.

The Mistress laughed. "His youthful look is one of the reasons he is so popular. Even I needed proof when he came to work here. His 21st birthday will be in July. The 31st to be exact."

The boot dug into his back, "I'l est parfait," the vampire purred.

"Do we have a deal?" Even Harry could hear the smug satisfaction in the Mistress's voice. She knew she had this vampire. Harry kept his breath as controlled as possible. He didn't want to give away just how excited he was.

The heel pressed harder into his back, almost forcing him to break position again. He didn't bother keeping the whimper in. Keeping position was taking most of his concentration. The vampire just laughed, digging his heel in deeper leaving a mark on the green silk and an indent in the skin underneath.

"Absolument, A million dollars per year for the Rights to the Petite Pute, as well as 3000 a month for expenses and an allowance for him. Of course, another thousand to keep who owns him completely confidential."

Harry's eyes went wide at the numbers. That was more than Harry made in a year as one of the most popular workers.

'Who is this guy?' Harry thought, trying to distract himself from the pain in his back from the position he was in and the heel still digging in. 'I still have no idea who this man is.'

"That is quite generous Monsieur."

"I take care of what's mine."

"Very well. I will add it to the contract."

The scratching of the pen to paper echoed through the otherwise silent room. While the Mistress put the finishing touches on the contract, Harry could feel the vampire staring at him as he used him as a foot stool. He still had no idea what the vampire looked like. It was strange that the vampire would offer so much money for a worker he had never before been serviced by. He had no idea whether Harry was any good or not, just his reputation.

The scratching stopped.

"There is something I forgot to mention," the Mistress said, "There is a difference between the little gem and my other workers."

"Oh?" The heel stopped digging into his back and moved to rest on his head, putting just enough pressure to make it hard to keep his head up enough to brush the carpet instead of resting on it. "I do hope it's nothing bad."

The Mistress hummed, "depends on your point of view. Unlike many of my workers. The little gem is not indebted to the Manor. He works here because he wants to. There is no contract to hold him. Should he decide to leave in the middle of the contract with you, he wouldn't be stopped by our guards. Should that happen, you will of course be compensated for whatever time remains in the contract. But he would still be able to leave."

Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat. She wasn't wrong. He had made sure that the money he received from his services went to his essentials first. Making sure he didn't have to ask for help from the Manor. A lot of workers ended up working for the Mistress just to pay for what they borrowed. It was a never-ending cycle that Harry was dead set on avoiding it.

"Oh, I doubt he will want to break the contract with me," The vampires' words seemed to caress Harry as he spoke. It was going to be an interesting year if he went through with the contract.

The boot left his head, moving under his head and tilting it up so he could finally put a face to that voice. "Will you ma petite pute?"

Harry felt this mouth go dry when he finally saw who it was that was offering so much money for him. The touchable laugh and sinful voice didn't do the vampire justice. This vampire was a walking wet dream.

Long curly black hair that fell in waves to his shoulders. A few defiant strands had escaped the ribbon he could just see holding back the rest of those beautiful strands. Eyes so blue they seemed to flash black in the lighting of the office and held and arrogant lust that had what was left of the blood in his head running south. The only way to describe this vampires face was beautiful. There was just nothing that compared to it.

He was wearing a white shirt only partially buttoned, leaving just enough of his chest to make Harrys mouth water. The edges of the shirt where decorated with a soft lace that looked like it had come from some French designer.

With speed only a vampire had, a white hand buried itself into Harry's own hair and yanked his head up and back until he was no longer bent forwards but back.

Somehow, he managed not to move his hands from behind his back, but the sudden change in position had forced his robe to move. The top had fallen off his shoulders and down his arms until it wrapped around his clasped hands. Leaving his chest bared to the room, his pebbled nipples on full display.

The bottom of his robe had been opened the first time he had changed position by spreading his knees. Now his erection was displayed instead of hidden by his body.

"You won't want to break our contract ma petite pute, will you?"

Harry swallowed around the arch of his neck, he nodded as much as the bent position would let him.

"Ah, ah, ah petite pute, you must use your words now." The hand tightened in his hair drawing a whimper from him. Blue eyes seemed to draw him in, almost swallowing him in the endless depths. "Answer petite pute, I do not take kindly to disobedience."

He didn't know how he did it but he managed to gasp out a breathy, "Of course not Sir." And his hair was released. With gasping breaths, he went back to his bowed position, this time with his back completely bare and his head resting just above one of the booted feet. The other returned to its place on his back.

"Well, I suppose that's my answer." The scratching started up again, this time punctuated by the slowing gasps from Harry as he got his breathing back under control. "All that's needed now is the payment for how many years and your signature Monsieur Jean-Claude."

"The first year's payment is in the briefcase. Another will be provided on the day the contracts expire for as long as I wish to keep the petite pute. The monthly rent will be directly deposited into the account you gave me. He will of course have a room with another entrance that only I will be able to use. This card will be his to use as he pleases for the year."

Harry swallowed. This was it. For the next year at least, he would be at this vampire's beck and call. The thought had his breath speeding up again. It was going to be an interesting year.

"That's everything, and may I be the first to congratulate you on your newest acquisition." The Mistress said, filing the papers into her desk. "I'll leave you two to get better acquainted while I arrange the move to one of the ER rooms."

Harry held his breath as the door shut leaving him alone for the first time with his newest Master.

The boot finally left his back, though he could still feel the imprint it left behind. Now there where two boots in front of his face instead of just one.

"Well, Ma Petite Pute, why don't you show me how you were taught to greet your Master."

Harry gulped, his eyes taking on a glazed look, "Yes Master."

He slid forward as much as he could in the position he was in until he could bend down and kiss the boots that had marked his back. He gave each one a lingering kiss to each, unable to resist giving the leather a lick.

"How can I be of service to you Master?"

Jean-Claude chuckled, "I'm rather enjoying the scenery, why don't you clean my boots ma petite pute."

Harry let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, "Yes Master." It wasn't the oddest thing he'd ever been told to do. It was actually quite common. Having someone literally licking your boots could be a power trip.

He started first on the right boot, kissing and licking from the toe up to the ankle. He wouldn't be able to go any higher without adjusting position. It was easier to switch to the other side if he stayed low for now.

While harry was focused on his task he felt the heated gaze of his vampire Master. He wasn't sure he wanted to know just what was going on in the sexy man's head. If it was anything like what was running through Harry's mind, it was going to be a tiring night.

"Sit up petite pute," The purring was back.

Harry sighed softly as his back popped as he shifted up. He had been bent over to long and his back protested the treatment. He kept his eyes down and his knees spread, leaving everything open for the vampire's inspection.

"Mmm. You are a belle pute. We are going to have fun together." The vampire stood, gracefully walking around the kneeling figure. "For the next year, you are mine pute. Your nights will belong to me completely." The vampire ran his hand through Harry's black locks, just petting. He didn't grab like the last time. "Every night, without fail, whether I come that night or not, you will be completely shaved and prepared for me. As soon as night falls until dawn, you are to be bare and waiting for me in your rooms. If I decide to make use of one of the rooms in The Manor I will take you there myself. But you will always be in your room waiting for me. Understood?"

Harry bit his lip as the vampire's words washed over him. That was enough to leave the wizard panting for him. "Yes Master."

Jean-Claude smirked, "Good. Not that that's out of the way. Let's get to know each other properly."