Authors Note: Decided to write some tomarry, it's alternate universe and all human. Other chapters will be longer than the first. Inspired by The Wolf of Wall Street, Casino, and Fifty Shades of Grey. I actually didn't like Fifty Shade of Grey but gosh it's a fresh idea.
Some bdsm/kink play, unsettling things that border on abuse, M rated scenes. Substance abuse mentions. Might make some readers uncomfortable. The wolf of wall street and Casino gave me a lot of help with this story.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any other books, websites, or merchandise connected to the series, besides this fanfiction.
Money Snake
Username: SS72
I am: Male, Dom, Generous, 29 yrs, brown hair, brown eyes, athletic, 5'11
Looking for: Sub, bdsm, exclusive relationship
It was the 'generous' part of this advertisement that got Harry hooked. Generous. Codename for 'rich and will pay you at least five hundred'. Codename for 'I'm a sugar daddy'. Harry felt as though this wasn't really the most honorable way to get money, but being three months behind on rent and on his last ten bucks until the cheques come out two weeks from now, his options were limited. So, he clicked 'interested'.
He leans back into his bed, waiting for a reply. Glanced at the dishes in the corner that need washing, knowing he wouldn't do them, knowing there's a lot of things he wouldn't do. He was kind of a failure, in reality, being a stripper, trying to make money in what some people would call an easy way. Not having a job like being a part of law enforcement, like his old friends. Even his best pal Ron had a job as a bartender. But Harry, the last of his family line, was a stripper.
It wasn't easy. Having to deal with entitled people, sickos, perverts, who always try to get something free, who act rude and harsh and drunk. Yes, you can count on drunks being in the bar.
Harry hears a beep, and he sits up, looking at his laptop.
A message from SS72, the screen says. Harry smiles, opens the chat.
SS72: Did you want to meet?
This guys gets straight to the point. Harry sends out a reply.
HJP11: Where and what time?
SS72: My place, tonight, at 11.
HJP11: Your place?
Going to his place sounds dangerous.
SS72: How about a diner.
HP11: Hogsmeade's diner?
Hogsmeade was a nice little place, quiet, by he could count on people being around if this guy turns out to be a kidnapper or serial killer. Beep. Harry reads the reply.
SS72: Sure, see you at 11.
SS72 is offline.
Harry smiles to himself and leans back into his bed, before jumping up to pick out clothes. Black shirt? Black pants? Maybe a red shirt and black pants. Should he wear his blazer he pulls out once a year? It's blue, maybe he should wear white under it? Oh, and a shower! And he needs to shave. God, but his shoes are dirty, and his hair unruly. Doesn't he have a shift at nine o'clock?
Shaking his head, Harry grabs some clothes and goes to the bathroom, thinking of ways he can get his hair tamed and how he can get out of doing a shift tonight. If this mystery guys turns out to be what he hopes, he could save money to go to the law enforcement academy, and get the he'll out of he business of pleasing old men.
