Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter...in case you guys didn't know that :)

Warning: GAY SEX...If you say 'Yay' to these words, stay a while. If not, leave :)

A/N: I am usually good at responding to every comment but it was very hard to do so this week. I had bake sales to cook for and boxes to pack because I am finally moving out of this hell-hole! Yay!!! But I really appreciate everyone's kind words about the first chapter, and I promise I will respond to any reviews I get this time around :) So please, let me know what you think!

Draco admired himself in the mirror. He wore tight, black, leather pants that hugged and showed off his taut thigh muscles, and simple black boots, but absolutely nothing else. It was his typical work attire, simple and sexy, though most of his clients never saw it anyway. He very rarely allowed them to remove their masks, because in doing so, he felt it made things more personal--something he didn't want. People say that a person's eyes are the window to their soul, so Draco preferred to keep the blinds shut and drapes closed. Or in his case, their masks on.

He didn't want to look at a client and see someones father or someones daughter. He didn't want to see school teachers or bankers or stay at home mothers. He preferred to think of his clients as depraved individuals that just need a safe way to burn off their sexual perversions, not people that are so down-and-out that they want to be punished for the shitty lives they lead. He'd rather think of them as sexual deviants, nothing more nothing less. After all, ignorance is bliss, and Draco felt that the less he knew about his clients, the better.

However, on rare occasions he did allow his clients to remove their masks. Sometimes it was simply because he was dying to see if his they were as good looking as he imagined, other times it was because something about the client intrigued him. Today though, it was a combination of both. His newest client, James Black, had been seeing him for a month now, stopping by the facility at least three or fours times a week. James was unlike any client Draco had ever had. He was desperate and obedient like the others, but he was also charming and confident, qualities Draco's clients always lacked. James also had an air of importance about him, a purpose; he wasn't a lost soul looking for meaning, he already knew who he was and what he wanted out of life. Draco admired this about his client, and if he was being totally honest with himself, the confidence was a major turn-on, as was James' magnificent physique. Not only was the man intellectually intriguing, he was also stunningly beautiful. He was long and lean, not overly muscular, but every inch of his body was hard and strong. Ripples of tight, lithe muscles begged to escape the confines of his pale skin and he moved with a fluidity and athleticism that left Draco curious about the man's prowess in the bedroom. But as it was, Draco had already done more with James than he had with any other client, more than he had ever intended on doing.

In Draco's line of work, legally speaking, there could be no sex involved whatsoever. Penetration, whether vaginal, anal, oral, or sexual stimulation involving hands, feet, toys, inanimate objects--anything at all--made what Draco did illegal. All of the strange, depraved things Draco did with clients were considered 'means of entertainment' until a sexual touch was involved. Then it was prostitution.

However, where Draco worked, and most likely at similar places, there was an unspoken understanding that some form of sex was bound to happen. After all, though some clients just enjoyed being dominated, a good ninety-percent of them actually got off on it, reveling in the sexual undertones of their sessions. So with that in mind, Mariella, Draco's boss, adopted a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy. If her employees chose to participate in sexually explicit activities with their clients, she was to know nothing about it. She even had them all sign paperwork saying that they understood their job was to provide entertainment only, and that anything of a sexual nature was not tolerated. That way, it they were ever the target of a sting operation and one of her employees got caught red-handed, she could say she denounced such behavior and had no idea that anything like that was happening in her facility. So it was up to the employees. If they wanted to run the risk of getting caught that was their choice, but no one should expect any sympathy or help from her if they got hauled off to jail.

And Draco, typically being a law-abiding citizen, heeded that warning for the first several months of his employ. He dominated his clients with a sort of 'hands-off' approach, keeping his distance and barely laying a hand on them. But after working there , on a couple of occasions, when he was turned on by a client and also comfortable with them, he allowed things to go further. On most of these occasions he would just allow his client to pleasure him or herself during their session, which was a big treat on it's own seeing as how Draco usually enjoyed watching his clients' suffer when they were turned on and weren't allowed to do anything about it. And sometimes, very rarely, Draco would bust out the biggest, most humiliating toy he could find and use it on his client while they masturbated. But that was it. Never, not once in all of his time working for Mariella, had he allowed a client to service him.

Yet for some reason, on his first night meeting James, a monster stirred in his gut, telling him to throw caution to the wind and give in to his most carnal desires. It told him to throw James over the steel operating table he kept in his room, and fuck the man blind until he screamed and plead for mercy. But Draco told himself that would be uncouth, unprofessional, so he compromised, opting to abuse James' throat instead of his ass. It didn't quite quell the monster, but it satisfied him for the time being.

And since that first session, Draco continued to toe the line of actual intercourse, by either making James service him orally or by penetrating every one of James' orifices with some toy or object. But as Draco made his way to work, he decided that today would be the day he would fuck James Black. He would unmask him and give in to his monster's desires, fucking the man every which way to Sunday.

****************

Draco watched the clock, willing the hands to move at a faster pace. It was 6:45 and his current client, a 30-something debutante from the city, was sprawled out on the steel table, her mask in place and a ball gag in her mouth. She laid still while Draco circled parts of her body he felt needed work. He made big black loops with the black, permanent marker, marking the pouches of flesh on her inner thighs; scribbling webs of ink on her slightly rounded lower stomach; and drawing a large 'X' over the landscaped hair on her pussy. "I expect my pets to be completely hairless," Draco barked. "This is unacceptable. You have disappointed your master Elaina. And this," he said squeezing the excess skin on her legs and stomach. "This disgusts me. Do you really expect me to look at this horrifying flab? Do you?"

Elaina shook her head furiously. "Good, pet. So you are going to work on this for our next session, right?" She nodded. Draco untied her restraints and helped her to a seated position. "Okay, you are free to go then. I want you to go home and look in the mirror...I want you to see the marks that I have made and I want you to figure out how to correct them. In fact, don't come back to me until you have done so." Elaina nodded again, hopped off the table and then crawled around the room blindly, searching for her discarded clothing. When she was dressed, Draco led her out into the hallway and slammed the door behind her.

He felt a little guilty for being so harsh to the woman, he wasn't cruel after all, but he knew it was what Elaina wanted. She might be upset at first, hurt that he had pointed out such minute imperfections on her nearly perfect body, but not only was she addicted to being dominated, she was also addicted to plastic surgery. His admonishments gave her reason to go out and get a little nip-tuck or an extra collagen injection. She enjoyed it and he knew it, and it was his ability to be in-tune with what people wanted that made Draco so good at his job. Just a few minutes with someone and he could tell what kind of submissive they would be, what they would like and what kind of dom they got off on.

Some people preferred to treated more like a slave, made to rub their master's feet or act as their master's footstool; others enjoyed being humiliated and treated like garbage; then there were some people that took submission to a whole other level. After just their first encounter, Draco pinpointed James as the latter. James seemed like the type of sub that was up for bondage, role-playing, even physical pain. From what Draco could tell, the man had no boundaries, and he planned on testing that theory at 7pm.

Draco quickly cleaned up and readied his room for James' arrival. He had just finished wiping down the steel table when the buzzer in his room sounded, signaling that he had a client waiting. Draco all but ran down to the holding room, slowing his steps and breathing when he reached it and stepped inside. Sure enough, James was there, his mask on, chained up to a metal pole in the middle of the room.

Draco silently walked over and unchained him, then led him down the hallway without uttering a word. "Pet," Draco barked when they reached the door to his room.

"Yes Master?"

"You know that your Master neither cares about, nor values your opinion, correct?"

"Yes Master."

"However, in this one instance I am going to ask you a question and I want you to, no, I command you to answer me honestly. Understood?"

"Yes Master."

"Do you enjoy pain, Pet?"

"I...yes, Master."

"Are you comfortable with blood as long as no real harm is done?"

James' breathing quickened and he licked his lips. "Yes, Master."

"Good, when you hear my door shut I would like you to stay out here and remove every article of clothing, as well as your mask. You are to leave them on the floor and then knock three times when you are ready to enter." Draco stepped into his room and shut the door behind him, not giving James time to respond, though he probably wouldn't anyway. More than likely he'd be a good boy and do as his Master told him, no questions asked.

Draco rushed around the room with the few spare moments he had primping himself, rubbing baby oil on his bare chest and slicking his hair back with a palm full of mousse. Then he put on his own mask, one of thin, black leather that covered most of his head. When he was ready he sat in the chair and waited, his heart racing and the monster in his stomach starting to stir.

After what felt like forever, there were three timid knocks on the door and Draco stood up and glided across the room, pulling the door open in a manner he hoped didn't reveal his excitement. But as soon as the door was open, all of the excitement he had been feeling drained out of his body and was replaced by shock and confusion. Standing in front of him, stark naked, was not some stranger named James Black; it was Harry Potter.

Draco nearly stumbled backward, but managed to compose himself. This was certainly the last thing he expected and he was just thankful he had had the foresight to put his mask on before opening the door.

"Well," Draco said. "Uh...Come in and have a seat on the table." He quickly busied himself, sifting through drawers and boxes in the room, anything to give his brain a moment to process the situation. Harry Potter was James Black. All this time Draco had actually been ordering Harry Potter to do things, not some faceless, unknown man. He had violated the Chosen One with nearly every object in the room, including his own dick, without ever having known. But how could he have? Who in a million years would have ever thought that the Gryffindor Golden Boy would be spending his Voldemort-free days lurking around bondage clubs and getting dildos shoved up his ass? It didn't make sense, so the thought had never even crossed Draco's mind.

But now that Harry was here in front of him, what was he supposed to do? Could Draco continue doing the things he had done when he thought Harry was James? The monster in his gut snarled with a resounding 'yes,' something that caught Draco off guard. His logical self said there was no way he could carry on knowing that his client was Harry Potter. There was too much history, too much animosity, and besides, he had always said that he would never work with someone that he knew.

But then again, the monster snarled, what was the harm? Harry was, though Draco hated to admit it, quite stunning, and he was also a very intriguing, very obedient sub. And truth be told, Draco thought this venture could turn out to be quite fun. Who better to vent his pent up anger on than the person that had once been the very source of his anger? It was a win-win situation really.

The monster nodded his head in agreement, and that was all of the encouragement Draco needed.

"James, lay down on your back with your arms over your head and you legs spread." Harry did as he was told and it took everything in Draco's power to not stare at the sizable erection protruding from the man's nether-regions. Draco grabbed handcuffs, shackles, and a thin length of black fabric from the counter, then walked over fastened Harry's left hand in the cuff, looped the chain through a bar in the table, and then cuffed his right hand. He repeated a similar process with Harry's feet, then tied the black cloth over his eyes.

"Har...James," Draco corrected himself. "Have you heard of sensory deprivation?"

"No Master."

"Good." Draco went back to the drawers and grabbed a primitive, muggle music player with oversized headphones better fit for an air traffic controller. He placed the headphones over Harry's ears and turned the player on, blaring the music of one of his favorite (and the loudest he could think of) muggle bands, Shadows Fall. He adjusted the music to what he felt was an appropriate level, then grabbed a ball gag, put the ball in Harry's mouth and tightened the straps around his head.

Draco watched as Harry's breath quickened, the rise and fall of his chest moving with the cadence of someone who had just ran a marathon. His cock twitched in anticipation and Draco found his own responding the same way. Everything was all set.

Draco grabbed the exacto knife from the counter and pushed the blade up, its shiny silver glinting in the florescent light. Now it was time for the real fun to begin.

A/N: Pretty please review :)