This chapter was co-written by the Maiden and the Crone, the ownership indicated by the different speech marks we are using!
The characters we are maltreating don´t belong to us!
Chapter 11
Outcast
Lord Voldemort, now inhabiting the body of his former mortal enemy, sat himself down upon the ivory and bone chair that had been put out for him. Draco suspected that the latter material was salvaged from deceased victims that had died down in the dungeons where he, his Master and a selection of Death Eaters had gathered for the event.
The room they had taken-over for the day was especially subterranean, more so than where they usually existed. The place was buried deep in the bowels of the great house, and the stones bled moisture from where the rain had sunk into the outside soil.
Draco smirked at the thought of a certain someone, greasy and reserved, soon coming to resemble the pitted, dripping, cold walls. The thought was evidently playing across the mind of his Master; the man had that look in his bloody red eyes.
'Bring him out,' he intoned.
There was a small door in the far corner of the dungeon, and out of it came two hulking figures who Draco guessed to be Crabbe and Goyle seniors, despite their hooded and masked state. They appeared to each get momentarily stuck in the tiny doorway, but they wormed their way out amidst chuckling and a cackle that undoubtedly belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange. It failed to escape anyone's notice that she had seated herself to the right of Voldemort; Draco was on his left, hoping inwardly that she would not spoil the fun he had in mind.
The two men had dragged out a man with them, their huge, fat hands holding him beneath his arms as they hauled him over to a what was presumably a torture instrument. It was shaped like a cross and had manacles on the arms to pinion its prisoner. It was into the iron cuffs that Crabbe and Goyle locked the unfortunate man.
'Tie his head up so that we can all see his treacherous face!'
Draco was unsure who was who of the two big men, but one grabbed onto the rope that was tied around the cross and looped it under their prisoner's chin like a noose; the other reached behind and tightened it so that a very familiar sallow face and hooked nose came into view.
'Severus Snape,' Voldemort drawled in a fair imitation of his favourite boy.
The Potions Master had a sort of defiant fear in his eyes as he looked straight at the possessed body of his former lover; when he glanced at Draco there was nothing much beyond a pitiful plea, or almost.
'So this is the man that tried to kill me, Voldemort continued, 'and to think I actually trusted you once. It turns out that Bella was right all along; you are nothing but a traitorous insect-'
There was a smatter of murmuring and Bellatrix looked intolerably smug; Snape sneered in her general direction but said nothing.
'I think it only fair that I make up for my misjudgement, as a reward. Bella-?'
'My Lord!' Draco felt it only right to intervene, as he had spent a good deal of time, pleasurable though it was at times, wheedling for permission to torture Snape in revenge.
'Quiet Draco! The wizard snapped back, 'You will get your chance in a minute!'
Draco hushed, but looked taciturn as he knew that many who his aunt were unleashed upon were left as bloody and bruised rags, thoroughly desensitised to pain and everything else.
The escaped madwoman looked very pleased with herself as she stepped towards the quite horrified looking man, who had obviously not bargained on having a vicious sadist let loose on his body. Undoubtedly he had been licking his wounds overnight in the certainty that an adolescent boy hardly out of combinations would be torturing him; that or a few rounds of the Cruciatus curse followed by a burst of acid green light would be his end.
Snape started struggling against the rope around his neck as Bellatrix got close enough to claw her fingers in his tattered robes; it was with a gleeful shriek that she tore them clean away, the seams weak from wear and work. With him naked, she smirked and looked towards the two lumps that were Crabbe and Goyle.
'Bring me the iron spider!' she barked at them, and one shuffled off to do her bidding.
A cruel looking implement was thrust into her waiting hand; it was a simple thing with three sharp and curved prongs that had been heated up until red hot. At the site of it Snape fought all the more violently, as his torturer adopted a pout.
'I think Snivellus wants to strangle himself Master,' she said to Voldemort with a wicked gleam in her eyes.
The wizard in the chair smirked at her insinuations.
'The Fork, I think, will suffice in deterring him.'
Draco watched with curiosity as another article was retrieved and brought forth. It appeared to be a boring piece of iron at first glance, until Crabbe or Goyle grabbed Snape's long black hair and titled his head back sharply, before embedding the top two prongs into the man's chin and the bottom two into his sternum, to prevent all movement of the head in one crippling swoop.
The dungeon rung with laughter as the Potions Master was tortured by the aptly named thing, for it looked like a double ended fork. Bellatrix was apparently appeased by it, and with a nod from Voldemort she opened the two fanged jaws of the iron spider wide, and raised it so that that it hovered near Snape's pale thigh; the heat alone would have been agony alone, so Draco guessed. He watched as the crazy witch sunk the hot teeth into the prisoner, who had two things ripped from him; a scream and a chunk of flesh that sizzled before his torturer slung it into a far dirty corner of the room. The action of tearing away sallow flesh was repeated several more times amidst more jeering and laughter, and it was only when Bellatrix lifted the bloody instrument somewhat higher that Voldemort put a stop to things and told her to be seated again.
For several moments the Death Eaters and their Master sat in silence, observing the gasping, bleeding traitor and the burnt craters in his pallid thighs. His head was still forced upright by the Fork, but he kept his dark eyes closed to the spectators.
'Your turn,' Voldemort said to Draco with a smirk, 'but do not kill him.'
It was not without some feelings of purpose and pleasure that Draco strode towards the suffering man, but having watched his aunt lay into Snape had dampened his enjoyment; he felt as though he was being given spoiled meat to tenderise.
Crabbe, Goyle,' the two men plodded forwards, 'take him down and strap him onto the wheel.'
Snape was limp in their grips as he was pulled across the room to where there was a giant cartwheel was held up by a large wooden frame. It could be made to spin by magic, so that the one bound on it was whipped as they grew dizzier. This was the fate Draco intended to lavish on the Potions Master, who was tied naked by his wrists, ankles and neck to the wheel, so that his bare back was exposed to the watching wizards.
A hybrid tool hung on the wall on a hook nearby. It was something that was the product of a bygone torturer wanting to produce a whip that got a quick response from the recipient, as well as leaving said victim with nasty injuries. Hence the man had made a cat o' nine tails with chain instead of leather, and with tiny lead weights instead of knots. The wounds it left were more internal, such as broken bones, though small barbs on the links did tear holes in the skin and muscle as the life and will was beaten out of the unfortunate prisoner. Even so, Draco decided that he was not averse to using it against the man who was once his teacher.
The whip was heavy in his hand and it clinked coldly as he readied himself to use it. Several pairs of eyes were watching him avidly, not least the Dark Lord who made him stagger as he spoke up unexpectedly.
'I want you to count, Severus,' the high, cold voice said, 'and for each lash you miss I want you to start counting again. Is that understood?'
Snape did not answer, and the blatant disrespect earned him the first blow of the night. It felt like he was being stoned, but he only grunted his pain as Voldemort smiled cruelly.
'Well? Do you understand?'
Black eyes latched onto red for a moment.
'Yes…My Lord…'
'Good. Goyle-bring the bucket in.'
There was the sound of a heavy door being opened and then shut; a wooden pail was put down on the floor somewhere, its contents sloshing about inside it.
'Oh, and Severus,' Draco raised his whip to begin properly, as his Master spoke up, 'You forgot to count.'
The cat o´ nine was smashing repeatedly into Snape´s back, the barbed chains tearing the skin cruelly, leaving a crimson pattern of destruction. His godfather was jerking with every stroke; too weak to produce screams any longer he gasped, strained breath rattling in his chest. Snape had refused to count the strokes, defiant to the end, as the Dark Lord had called him, a malicious smile on his face. It didn´t matter for the onlookers, as the blood and screams, as long as they had lasted, had satisfied them nevertheless. Draco raised the heavy whip again, ready to turn the path of the barbaric torture implement after gaining the maximum momentum when he was stopped by his Lord´s voice.
"That´s enough, Draco! Take your place by my side again!" his Lord said, eyes glittering in satisfaction as they roamed the traitor´s crimson covered body. "My Death Eaters, it´s your turn to give Severus Snape the reward for betrayal."
Draco was momentarily stunned as he had used the leaded whip for some few minutes only and was asked to take his seat again. He would have liked to pout but managed to force his face into a Malfoy trade smirk. He let the bloodied cat o´ nine carelessly fall to the floor on the way to his Lord´s side, watchful red eyes following his every movement.
Snape was taken down from the wheel and dumped unceremoniously on the grimy floor where he coughed up blood. Goyle grabbed the bucket that he had put by his feet. He carried it over to where Snape was lying as a prone, bloody mess on the floor; the Death Eaters parted to let his hulking body through. Without an ounce of compassion he tipped the sloshing contents over the tortured prisoner, who screamed out like he had never done before. He writhed and thrashed, while his old fellows just laughed at his torment and kicked him away from them. It was some minutes before he stopped moving and lay still again, gasping and, if Draco heard right, a sob had escaped the proud man. Draco looked at his Lord questioningly.
"Salty lemon juice." Lord Voldemort said with a smirk. "It creates agonising pain while it cleans his wounds and makes him live a few minutes longer."
The dark-cloaked figures formed a circle around the shivering man, using countless curses on him, turning his naked body into a grotesque farce of a human shape. In the end only the white of his eyes interrupted the unified red of his trembling shell, eyes which were trying to beg Harry for help desperately, as his pitiful condition reduced him to tiny whimpers and gasps.
Draco watched this display with something akin to pity for his godfather. Having experienced the feeling of having lost the loved one at least for a short time caused him to frown in sympathy. He was of course jubilant to have his Lord back albeit in the hated form of Potter, but for Snape it had to be hell to be see his Harry being overtaken by the Dark Lord´s soul, love to be replaced with hatred, care with torture. Draco started when his Lord gave the order to Avada Kedavra the traitor.
"Please, my Lord, I have an idea. Why don´t we take Snape to Hogwarts and nail him to the entrance doors instead. If the order sees how you are treating traitors in your own ranks they will be terrified of how you treat your enemys. He will soon be dead, but it will be a greater effect even if he is still alive when you nail him to the doors." Draco urgently grabbed onto the tanned hand, the young soft body feeling so differently under his skin.
The evil smile twisting the youthful face in front of him, the cold red glint in former soulful green eyes was looking so wrong on Potter, sending a small shiver of fear down Draco´s back. He still had to get used to Potter in body being his lover now. Crimson eyes stared deeply into Draco´s grey ones before quidditch calloused fingers caressed blond strands of hair before his Lord got up, his black robes sweeping the dirty and bloodied floor as he stepped forward.
"Let us shake the order and nail my illoyal right hand man to Hogwarts´ doors!" The shouted exclamation of Lord Voldemort was welcomed with cheers as the Death Eaters levitated Snape up towards ground level to leave Riddle House and apparate to the gates of Hogwarts. The anti-apparation-ward was still empowered, but the protective wards Dumbledore himself had set had been undone on his very last entrance on Hogwarts grounds the night Snape had killed him. Dark figures slowly made their way up to the deserted looking castle, undisturbed and unstopped.
Upon their arrival at the wooden entrance doors the crimson dropping body was levitated in front of the high doors and heavy iron spikes were sent with great force through his outstretched hands, eliciting low tortured groans, nailing Snape to the dark wood which had seen him and all the others present entering through the very doors so many times in past years. Eyes filled with agony met Draco´s, the expression in them speaking of fear and sorrow. Draco averted his burning eyes, turning around to be embraced the next second by strong arms, black hairs tickling his nose as he pressed his face into his Lord´s neck.
"You are still a young whelp, Draco! All bark but no bite!" laughed Potter´s voice darkly while a hand ran through his silvercoloured hair, sending a delightful shiver through Draco.
"If you are lucky you will survive long enough for the order to find you, Snape. Then you can try the light side´s pity for the murderer of their leader!" the Dark Lord addressed his half-dead former right hand man. "And I still didn´t thank you for your brilliant plan to kill me just to give me the means to get a young and even more powerful form."
Draco didn´t look back when they left Hogwarts grounds again, didn´t want to be reminded of his past, of easier times filled with sneers and taunts while he followed his Lord like a well-trained dog. The anger and disappointment of being pushed aside like a commoner today at the torture was still gnawing at Draco´s temper, so he made his way back to his room at once after having returned to Riddle House. He was surprised when only minutes after he had thrown his cloak over a chair to lie down on his soft bed, sulking, the door connecting his room to his Lord´s bedroom opened. His clothes were suddenly vanished with a wave of his Lord´s hand, the wandless magic still fascinating and frightening Draco.
"Do you want to tell me anything, Draco?" Potter´s youthful voice was tainted by evil and power. Draco slowly sat up, standing before his Lord in all his naked glory, unashamed.
"Why did you allow aunt Bellatrix to be the first to torture Snape after what he did to me together with Potter? You promised me to be the first one! " Draco almost shouted accusingly as he tried to control his annoyance which was nicely fueled by his hurt pride. To look at the hated face didn´t help his self-control.
"On your knees, Draco!" Potter´s body sent out waves of power and anger, and Draco complied, gulping, settling himself in front of his Lord, his eyes fixed on the shining black boots before his knees. "I´ve watched you, Draco, and it has come to my attention that you have a certain problem with your attitude towards me since I´m occupying Potter´s body. How so, childe?" the Dark Lord asked him, walking in slow and measured steps around Draco.
"I´m sorry, my Lord, I was not aware of it. Maybe it´s because when I look at you...I see Potter." The unhappy chuckle answering his words worsened the trembling of Draco´s hands.
"So you look at me and hate me because I look like Potter and you hate him?" Potter´s voice hissed dangerously. "Is that so, Draco?"
"Yes, my Lord! I mean, no, I don´t hate you, I hate him, and you have his body, so..I don´t hate you, my Lord, your body makes me uncomfortable, that´s all." stuttered Draco, his insides cramping at the idea that he was annoying his Lord with every word coming out of his silly mouth.
"And that is excuse enough for you to disrespect me, for looking at me with loathing whenever you think I´m not watching you?" the black leather boots had come to a stop in front of him again, the quiet after the tapping of soles on the hardwood floor made Draco even more nervous, expecting a blow to his body any second now.
"No, it´s not, my Lord. I´m sorry, I will do better, I promise!" Draco tried to control his breathing, taking deep slow breaths to calm down his furiously beating heart.
"I´m afraid you need another lesson, Draco!" Draco shuddered at these words, watching anxiously how the leather boots stepped to the side, coming to a stop in front of the bed. "Come over my lap, Draco!"
Draco got up, his trembling legs almost betraying him, almost refusing to carry his weight. He looked at the Dark Lord questioningly before he slowly bent down and tried to find a way to drape his grown up body conveniently over the dark wizard´s knees.
"You are behaving like a small child today, Draco, pouting and sulking. That is why first of all you have to go over my knees. Brace yourself!" his Lord told him, Potter´s voice overlaying the dangerous hiss of his former Lord Voldemort still forming the horrific image in his mind that he was indeed draped over Harry Potter´s knees. Draco pressed his hands against the cold floor, biting his teeth together to prepare himself for the punishment to come as he felt a cool hand coming to rest on his back right under his shoulder blades. The first slap surprised him; it burned and the area the hand hit was larger than what the canes had been able to touch. It was uncomfortable but he would be able to handle that, he thought with a small smirk.
The blows were coming faster, rocking Draco´s body against dark robes, making his humiliation perfect when his member started to fill out despite the growing pain in his backside. The hand was rubbing his heated buttocks now, gliding into his crack, over his entrance, a finger breaching him just a little way to be withdrawn immediately. Draco moaned, his moan turning into a surprised yelp when the hand sharply smacked his bottom again. Draco had to grit his teeth against the brutal onslaught, his skin being more sensitive now right after the caressing touches.
He let his head hang down, as he felt his groin responding to the rocking movement, shifting his body closer to the groin below him, trying to get more friction for his tingling middle. His needy and achy moans punctuated each slap now, his legs were opening to ask for more and his unspoken plea was heard when the slaps stopped again and the hand rubbed and caressed again, driving down between his legs, causing him to open them even wider, gliding along his cock, along the inside of his thighs to rub his burning skin again before the fingers moved back to his hole.
Draco muttered his protests when the hand caused him pain again, delivering more stinging blows, hitting the insides of his thighs also where he was even more sensitive to the pain, but he still kept his legs opened with sheer will-force, hoping for more caresses soon to follow. He was not disappointed as at the point of agony where his face was wet from tears and his body was shaking with soft sobs the hand stilled again.
A clinking sound was heard and moments later oily fingers were rubbing between his buttocks, making him moan wantonly, until a finger was thrust into him, which he answered with a delighted gasp and a welcoming raising of his hips. His Lord stretched his entrance and played with him until Draco thought he would come, only to yelp in surprise when the hand harshly pulled his testicles away from his groin again to prevent this.
"Get up, Draco!" Potter´s voice told him now and Draco did his best to concentrate on his Lord´s red eyes as he stood redfaced before him. Potter was dead, this was his Lord now, Draco tried to tell himself. With another small handgesture the black robes vanished as well, revealing the youthful well-toned body of his former enemy. The Dark Lord lay himself in the middle of the bed with feline grace, a sly grin lightening the youthful face.
"You will worship my body now, touch it, lick it, anything you want to do, childe! This is me, your Lord, and I expect that you treat this body with the same love and respect as you treated my former one!" Draco hesitantly kneeled down on the bed right beside Potter´s body, staring down onto it for a long time before he lightly moved the fingertips of his right hand from the middle of the chest down to the navel, circling the little knot of skin. The skin was soft and healthy looking. He removed his fingers again to touch the forehead, the lightning shaped scar was almost gone, as were the glasses as the raw magic had changed Potter´s eyes not only in colour but also in function.
The body was not even so bad, Draco thought with a small smile, gone was the corpse-like look, the bony hands, the snake-like nose. Instead there were rosy lips, soft and inviting, the eyes were larger and looking more like almonds in shape than like slits as the former body had had. Draco traced those lips with his finger before he bent down and tasted the lovely mouth in a searching kiss. This body answered the kiss in the same way, the tongue forcing inside his mouth the same way, the crimson eyes boring into his the same way during the kiss. Draco drew back, panting slightly.
He shifted his concentration now towards the middle of the body, letting his fingers trace lines onto smooth skin again. There was a nice bush of black hair, the unruliness matching the hair on his Lord´s head. The member was already hard and ready; it was about the same length but a little bit thinner, and it was absolutely smooth, the smoothest and softest skin of all this body was to be found there under his searching fingertips. There were no ridges and bumps, it looked...beautiful. Draco smiled as he bent down to lick the underside, watching how he made the erect flesh jerk in sensation, took it into his mouth, tasting the precum before he pulled back again.
His eyes followed the strong muscular legs, the beautifully formed feet, then they moved to the strong arms and finally he took the soft hands into his, turning them round and round, caressing and touching every place before he licked over the salty palm of his Lord´s hand. Draco´s eyes searched sleepily narrowed crimson ones before he lay down beside his Lord, moving his hands over every place he could reach, placing soft kisses onto soft skin, biting small brown nipples, sucking them into his mouth until they were hard like the impressive flesh of column.
"Ride me, childe!" his Lord hissed, his fingers wound into blond hair to bring Draco´s head up. Draco looked at him in confusion for a moment before he understood. He blushed as he had never been on top before and didn´t know how to best achieve this. He kneeled over his Lord, who gripped his hips while Draco tried to align the hard cock under him with his entrance. He started to pant in strain as he slowly let himself sink onto his Lord until he finally reached his groin, sitting down with folded legs astride the young and beautiful body under him.
His eyes opened wide in fear when incomprehensible hissed words escaped the rosy lips and Lord Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue to him. Draco wanted to withdraw in panic, reminded of the night Potter had made a long black snake to invade his bowels. He started to shake all over, tears forming in his eyes as he tried to get up just to be stopped by unforgiving hands on his hips.
"Calm down, child! Look into my eyes! Let yourself fall into me!" his Lord spoke harshly to Draco as a terrified sob forced its way out of his throat. Draco blinked, causing two silver tears to roll down his cheeks, then he concentrated on the crimson pool showing him his Lord´s soul. He took deliberately slow breaths to stop his panting. When the hissing continued Draco did not let go of the view in front of him. This was not Potter, Potter was dead, killed by his own stupidity. His breath hitched when calloused fingers closed around his limp member, stroking it, playing with the tip, twisting its grip slowly. The Parseltongue was still in his head as the red eyes were in front of his eyes and he started to pant again when the warmth flowed back into his groin.
Strong hands grabbed his hips again, showing him how to move, how to rise and rock on the hardness inside him, filling him, while the hisses turned into something akin to a beautiful music and he felt like drowning in blood-red pools as ecstasy filled every place in his body. He placed his hands onto the nicely muscled chest, moaning as he moved on top of that body, the body he knew was for him now. Nice warm hands moved over his body, his groin, his burning buttocks, pinching and pulling the reddened skin. Draco shuddered and moaned as he started to move faster and hips met his, bodies clashing together in the rhythm of their hearts.
Nimble fingers twisted his nipples while hisses caressed his floating mind. A rough hand violently tugged at his cock now, confusing Draco as he wanted to push down and the same time push into the hand, a long tortured sounding whine left his mouth as he grit his teeth against the flood of sensations rolling over his body as his insides contracted in waves and strong hips under his body raised frantically to push into him as hands pulled his hips down. Draco tensed and rolled his hips on top of the invading flesh, a short yell leaving his lips as his seed stained tanned skin and a gush of warmth and slippery wetness flooded his bowels.
Draco slumped down onto the young body beneath him, panting heavily, heart still racing as if he had run miles on end, when soft lips kissed his sweaty forehead. Draco closed his eyes, enjoying the sound of the heartbeat in the chest beneath his ear. His Lord rolled them around, coming to lie on top of Draco, the hissing of Parseltongue mixing with Draco´s panting in the stillness of the room. Draco looked up again, focusing on the mouth, then on the eyes of his Lord before he raised his head to press his lips onto rosy ones, effectively stopping the hissing. Draco smiled happily when they separated some minutes later. The smile vanished from his face when his Lord got up and went to his room to come back again with an iron rod, his hand gripping the wooden handle. The iron had been heated as it was on the verge of glowing red.
"Get up, Draco! Lie down on the horse, you know how it´s done!" his Lord said, the former possessive smile gone from his face.
"Why...I mean..." Draco couldn´t even think clearly, the look of the hot iron rod frightening him deeply.
"You still deserve a punishment, Draco! The earlier spanking was just foreplay. Did you really think that that could have been your punishment for disrespecting me?" the Dark Lord´s sneer was very disconcerting. "You better move soon or I will heat the rod to a level where it will tear the skin off your bottom when it makes contact."
Draco hurried to the horse, lying his stomach and chest flat against the despised black leater. His Lord fixed the restraints with another show of his wandless magic before he moved behind Draco and hit the iron rod brutally against the already reddened backside. The impact was a shock, but the searing pain of the burn needed some seconds to develop and resulted in pained scream. The damage to the skin was not very deep but painful; the Dark Lord adoringly ran his hand over the red burn crossing Draco´s buttocks, which had already been sensitised to pain through the former hand spanking.
"Please, this hurts too much! I will take another punishment, please, anything you want, Gods!" Draco begged as the pain caused by the burn pulsed through his spine into his whole body, his Lord´s touch increasing the agony.
Lord Voldemort was not known for his mercy, so he rather shook his head in annoyance and took another swing. Draco howled in pain, the hot iron searing his skin like a brand. He thought he would faint there and then, but the fates were not that merciful. The thin iron rod hit his skin again and again, and soon the soft skin formed blisters which were broken by another impact of the rod. Draco screeched in pain at every impact, while between the blows he frantically begged his Lord for forgiveness, for mercy, offering anything if only he would stop this agony.
Snot ran down Draco´s face as he cried in despair, his buttocks sending waves of fire through his shaking body. He was pulling against the restraints, praying to any deity that this would end soon while the heated iron rod raised more blisters and broke his skin. Blood mixed with sperm was running down his thighs, his body shaking in shock when the brutal punishment stopped.
Draco was sobbing in agony; loud whimpers and highpitched whines tore into the silence of the underground room. He had lost his strenght to beg, to fight, to hope. The iron rod was thrown into a corner, much like he himself had carelessly thrown the cat o´ nine away, and his Lord violently thrust into him. Draco´s eyes opened wide in agony, a weak scream leaving his lips when Voldemort´s groin made contact with his burns and raw wounds. This time not even the careful thrust hitting his prostate could better the blinding agony when his tortured backside made contact with the body moving into him. He did not come, no, he was even completely limp while his Lord enjoyed his screams and convulsions.
Draco had no idea that his Lord had not come also when he pulled out to heal his protegé. He gasped in relief when the pain diminished and finally disappeared, leaving him with a tearstained face and racing heart. His entrance was breached again and this time not the sensations on his bottom but in his bottom set his body on fire. He soon screamed again, the pleasure of the penetration taking away the memories of the agony he had had to endure just minutes ago. His Lord alternated harsh fast thrusts with circling hips, making Draco almost crazy with sexual bliss in the process, until he jerked painfully against his restraints, trying to push back against his Lord´s thrusts while his hole massaged the young cock inside him as he came hard and desperate.
"Please..." Draco whispered when his restraints were undone and he was pulled off the horse just to almost faint as his body had been put under too much strain, leaving him weak and dizzy. Strong tanned arms carried him with ease to his bed where soon both naked bodies were joined side by side.
"I´m sorry.." Draco almost sobbed, despair and fear gripping his insides again as he met his Lord´s glittering eyes.
"I have forgiven you, Draco!" the youthful voice spoke of pride and satisfaction. "I have decided to make you my second in command! From now on we will do all things together and tomorrow we will start to plan a way to destroy the Order of the Phoenix! I know you will always be by my side, until the end!"
Draco looked at the powerful Overlord with big eyes full of wonder and greatfulness, his words tearing right into his heart, making him want to bawl in happiness. He swallowed the tears threatening to block his throat before he answered with all the love he felt for his Lord: "I will be yours...until the end!"
Coming ahead in the next chapter of Ad Finem - Until The End:
Draco´s new status is celebrated and plans for war are made.
Thanks again for your reviews!
The Bloody Wretched
jka1
slythchickASD
Madd Girl