This is, without a doubt, on the kinkier side of life, and includes themes generally found at your local B&D group's weekly gathering. Or, perhaps I've read the Beauty trilogy one too many times? Do I care?
The real question is, do you?
And, yes, this does get cut off at a certain point. I'm sorry, but you'll have to visit Grazhir to read the entire chapter (though you can't review there as of this date since the forums still haven't been moved). Prior to that point, you will notice one instance where a sentence breaks off abruptly into an ellipses, then continues. Call that censoring, if you will.
Responses: Please see my profile for the location of review responses.
— Beta (My Lord) —
After several moments Voldemort spoke, and when he did his voice was deceptively casual and quiet. "I allow that I have been quite lax with you over the years, and I can clearly see now that it has been a mistake on my part to be so. Your training has suffered in more ways than one, my little pet, and I aim to correct those faults in your character and demeanor, so let us start now." Then he barked, "Off!"
Brand slipped off his father's lap with alacrity.
"Mistake number one, pet. You neglected to respond to me as you should."
"Yes, my Lord."
"No apology? Mistake number two, pet."
"Yes, my Lord, I humbly beg your forgiveness."
"Mistake number three, pet." Voldemort sighed with mock regret and continued, "Is that any way to present yourself to me? You show a disturbing lack of respect, and I must say, you're getting entirely above your station to aspire to the privilege of wearing clothing in my presence. So we shall correct that now. Strip, my sweet little pet, and show me the respect I deserve."
As he was doing so Voldemort said, "Soon enough you shall understand that I require perfect obedience from you, pet. I never gave you permission to think for yourself, after all. Perhaps I should call that mistake number four? I think I will. And I'm sure I can think of any number of punishments I can visit upon you that should drive home the point."
He paused to eye Brand up and down slowly, then nodded. Brand had dropped to one knee and bowed his head in submission, his hands flat on the floor. A part of him recoiled at the sight, but another part was quite insistent on reminding him that this was only a perverted little game his son had initiated, and there was no harm in playing along—within reason, of course.
"That's a good pet. It pains me to realize that I have thus far failed to make you understand that you should obey me without hesitation or complaint. Daring to question me in such a manner, or any other, shows your lack of faith in me, your chosen master, and that is such a terribly sad thing indeed." Voldemort rose to his feet and slowly circled Brand, eventually coming to a stop in front of him again.
"And how do we properly greet our master, pet?"
Brand immediately reached out to grasp the hem of his robe and kiss it, then resumed his former position.
"Very good, pet. Keep that up and I may forget exactly how many mistakes you've made thus far. Now stand up and let me look at you properly."
"Yes, my Lord," Brand said softly as he rose, keeping his head bowed.
Voldemort made another circuit, this time letting his hand brush over the exposed skin before him, half closing his eyes in pleasure at finally getting to touch the object of his ardent desire. Before he completed his round he smacked Brand sharply on the ass to see his reaction, then grinned at the soft sound that issued from his son's throat. Interesting indeed.
Facing him once again, Voldemort brushed his hand over his son's ... jumped against his hand. "I think I might enjoy punishing you in the future even if you have behaved yourself. Now be a good little pet and follow me, properly."
He was curious to see how Brand would react to that, and started off toward his bedroom at a normal pace. Once inside he turned and waited, amused and pleased to see Brand eventually shuffle in on his knees and come to a stop a short distance away. "Stand up, pet. That's right. I think I know just how to punish you, but first a little something that befits your station. Something that cannot help but remind you of your place."
He turned and looked around, then stepped into his bathroom and grabbed a hand towel. That he transfigured into a collar of sorts before returning to his son and placing it around his neck. "There." It was wide enough so as to force Brand to keep his chin up, though he compensated by dropping his eyes instead. Voldemort went back to the bathroom and rummaged around for several more items he could transform, then returned once more.
Cuffs went around Brand's wrists and his arms were folded up behind his back and crossed, a length of chain securing the cuffs to the collar. He had no doubt whatsoever that Brand could release himself with barely a thought, but just to be safe he touched his son's mind to assure himself he wasn't causing him any distress. What he found was an odd haze, and that caused him to retain the link.
Then he stepped around and kicked Brand's feet apart, waiting until his son had regained his balance before saying, "Very good, pet," and patting him on the ass affectionately. He produced a paddle and shifted off to the side, then swung. Brand jerked, arching his hips forward in reaction, and made Voldemort worried for a moment that Brand would not actually be able to stay standing, so he reached up with his free hand and took hold of the chain.
Then he swung again, and continued to, keeping a careful mental eye on Brand's thoughts as the flesh he was assaulting turned a pleasing shade of red. He was somewhat surprised to realize by the time he was ready to stop that Brand's mind was nearly devoid of thought. It was as though his son was swimming in some kind of deeply submissive pleasurable haze, reacting almost blindly to stimuli.
He tossed the paddle to one side and stepped around to face his son. Brand's mouth was open slightly, his eyes closed, and he was visibly aroused. "Did we enjoy our punishment, pet?" he asked curiously.
"Yes, my Lord," Brand whispered.
"Maybe next time I'll use a whip," he said, and saw Brand swallow. "Yes, I can see you like that idea. Would you like a reward for being such a good pet and taking your first punishment so well?"
"If it pleases you, my Lord."
"It does. On your knees, pet," he commanded gently. "That's right. Now you wait right here until I call for you." He left, heading back into his sitting room and calling for an elf with a request to bring a selection of food. When things were set to his liking he called, "Attend me, pet."
Brand shuffled in a minute later and stopped in front of him. Voldemort had arranged things so that he sat aside the table rather than facing it, and he had removed all of his clothing but for his robe. "I thought we might eat, pet, so why don't you come a little closer. I think it is only fitting that I hand feed you, and between the tidbits I deign to allow you, you can amuse yourself by pleasing me directly."
"Yes, my Lord," came a whisper, then Brand shuffled forward to fit himself between Voldemort's legs.
You can imagine what happens next, eh?