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At the club, he handed the bathroom attendant a fifty pound bill for calling him then crept through the crowded brownstone. Middle of the week and the kinksters were out in full force. He was one of them, but he came for one man. He found his prey in one of the rooms set up for visitors to relax and talk, if they so wanted. Of course, not everyone was talking. A slender guy with salt and pepper hair was getting shagged on his hands and knees just over Harry's shoulder.

Voldemort watched Harry, watched him lean in close and talk to the woman who sat next to him. Too close. She was too close. Heat washed over Voldemort's nape. Wasn't arousal. Every time the woman laughed, she touched Harry's thigh. Voldemort glared at those red nails. It would be so easy to walk up to her and slice her throat with his pocket knife. Just a nice thin line. One ear to the other.

Harry said something to her and she laughed, throwing her head back. She was a blond, built slimmer than Ginny, skin pale and milky white. People milled around. They paid no mind to the others going at it like rabbits, but they stared at Harry when he laughed. He didn't do that often.

The bathroom attendant had told him about Harry's reputation at the club. Everyone wanted him to pay attention to them, but he rarely played with anyone he didn't bring himself. And when he did, he kept himself aloof. Emotionally. Physically. He never stayed around, socialized or made small talk. But here he was, doing it. And with ease, too.

Voldemort gritted his teeth. Why did that make his throat itch?

Harry and the woman stood, hand in her hand, headed to the basement and Voldemort followed. He waited until the couple reached their destination then stepped into the room. He frowned. The woman stood there, in the middle of the dungeon, by herself. Harry was nowhere in sight.

Voldemort lunged at her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and tugging. She groaned,

"Where's—"

"Hey, V."

Voldemort stiffened. Damn it. Damn it. He didn't have words, just the hum of his blood rushing in his ears and the thump of his heartbeat.

Harry said softly from behind him.

"Release her. Luna, thank you. You may go."

Voldemort loosened his hold on the woman's hair, and she nodded at Harry, then glanced at Voldemort. A knowing smile curved her lips.

"Anytime."

She left and Voldemort still hadn't moved. Still hadn't spoken,

"Cat got your tongue, V?"

Anger appeared the safest emotion to embrace. So, he spoke,

"You set me up. Why?"

Harry kissed him, a tiny brush of his lips against Voldemort's neck, but he started shaking. Violently. Unavoidably.

"Because I know you. Enough to know you want no one near me, enough to know you'd act if you saw me about to give someone else what I know you want only for yourself."

That— It made no sense. Certainly, it wasn't true. He didn't want that. Exclusivity. Was that what Harry was saying? He opened his mouth, and Harry shifted away.

"Don't move."

Voldemort didn't, but Harry did. He heard the door close, heard Harry's footsteps as he returned to Voldemort,

"Hands behind your back."

Voldemort reacted without thought, clasping his hands behind him. Harry caught them, the pads of his fingers soft against his skin. He sucked in a breath and stood, waiting, shuddering as Harry bound his hands tightly. The scratch of the rope made his mouth dry up, made him bite his lower lip,

"On your knees."

Harry's voice. It was dark and rich, and it reached into the deepest parts of Voldemort, grabbing hold of him. He struggled to breathe, to think, managing to drop awkwardly to his knees. He looked at Harry who'd moved into his line of sight, wondering if everything he felt, everything he wanted, showed in his eyes. Harry stared back at him, his face hard and cold. His eyes blazed for Voldemort. He blazed like Voldemort had never seen him blaze for anyone else.

"Please."

Harry spoke again,

"I want your forehead pressed to the floor."

Voldemort threw himself forward, falling onto his stomach. He crouched onto his knees, leaning forward to place his face on the ground before turning and pressing his forehead on the floor as Harry had commanded.

His toy. He had to remember. Frustration welled up and he whimpered. He had to remember to keep it distant. His toy. His toy got behind him and began unbuttoning his shirt from behind and tugged it off. The cool air hit his bare back and he moaned. His toy smoothed a palm over Voldemort's flesh

"This back. Its damn flawless."

Voldemort groaned, pushing back into that touch.

"I'm going to mark it permanently."

He shook, body clenched and at the ready. At the first crack of his toy's whip on his skin, Voldemort cried out. Hard and merciless, hardly stopping for breaks, he whipped Voldemort, painful, hot. The pain flared bright. He cried out, his body trembling because he loved it. All that pain, all that heat centered in his back, it crept over him, ran through him and he blubbered, arching into the blows even as he cried. The pain made his eyes wet, made the tears fall, and he begged for more. His toy cursed, swift, low.

"Damn…... Damn it, V. Seeing you like this..."

Tears ran down his face and into his mouth, salty and pain-filled. He licked it up.

"Please. Oh. Please."

His toy reached forward and touched the scorching skin on his back. When Harry spoke he sounded like he was in pain.

"Yes. You don't even know. You don't know anything, V."

He slapped his back, slapped the burning whipped skin until Voldemort screamed, head thrown back. He dry-heaved, trying to writhe away from that pain, but needing it. Wanting it. The ache made him want more. He coughed, blind through the tears.

"I can't….I can't…"

His toy said, all control and authority.

"You can. You want to. For me."

Anything. For him. Harry pulled back and started whipping him again. Voldemort remained hard. His cock remained rock hard throughout,

"You don't come until I say."

But he wanted to. Voldemort panted. He needed to come. The next blow came down harder than the rest, burning him. Pain ripped through him, flaming in colour behind his eyeballs. His vision whited out. He heard himself sobbing, heard his toy behind him too, panting just as heavy, just as wanton. Breath rattled in his chest, like train wheels on rusted out tracks.

Harry was merciless, ruthless. His body took it all, took the blows. Hungry for the pain, hungry for his body to be abused. Dying to come. Because he was. Sobbing and begging,

Another hard blow, and he tried to crawl away from it, nails digging into the wood floor as fire danced up his spine. Finally, it stopped and his toy retreated. Voldemort cried out,

"No. Oh Please. Please."

His toy walked over to him and helped him up to a kneeling position.

"Shh."

Voldemort gazed up at him. He felt as if his face was swollen.

"Don't stop."

His lips trembled.

"Please."

His toy smoothed a hand over his head then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. Voldemort blinked. He hadn't gotten undressed. Here Voldemort was, on his knees, shirtless and nearly whipped to death and his toy remained fully clothed.

"Shhhh"

His cock jerked.

"You're beautiful like this, V. You have no idea."

But his toy wiped his face, wiped the tears with a slight tremor in his hand. Voldemort turned, pushing his face into that hand.

"This little game that we play..."

He paused when his throat burned.

"Is it, V? Is it a game?"

Down on his knees, Voldemort looked up and up into fathomless emerald green eyes. They trapped him enough that he forgot to bristle at that stupid nickname.

The pad of one finger touched his throat, slid down. He swallowed, but he had no saliva. He blinked to clear the haze over his eyes.

"Is it a game, this, what we do? This is how you play?"

Ofcourse it was. He liked his toys. His drinks. His drugs. His women. His men too. Like the one who had him on his knees. This was him. The crazy little games that he played. He could leave at any time. Tied up as he was he couldn't move except to flick a glance at the door flung wide open for anyone to see him beg to be used. But he could leave. End it. Because that's what he did. He played. And then he walked away.

"Your game."

The hand in his hair moved then reappeared in front of his face holding another length of rope.

"This is your game. You stalking me, begging me..."

Voldemort didn't beg, not unless he was on his knees. He didn't remember begging.

"You…. always in my shadow making it impossible for me to do anything. That's your game? The woman you just saw me with. The one you would've hurt if I hadn't rescued her. All part of your game?"

She'd needed to be hurt. No one used his toys without permission. He'd stood in the shadows and watched her touch his toy, put her red lips to his ear and her long-nailed hands on his thigh, and he had salivated at the thought of gutting her. For touching what was his. He'd gotten hard as he'd thought of it.

Hot breath brushed his neck. Made him shudder. Usually he had better control when he played his games. Usually his toys didn't affect him. Usually he didn't pursue his toys either. This one was tough to catch. Impossible to pin down. It exhilarated him, that cat and mouse game.

"If I'd slept with her while you watched, would that have been part of the game?"

Something thudded in his chest. He swallowed again. Fire burned his throat. His head pounded as a flash of heat made him sweat. Anger. Not just any anger. Jealous anger. His lips parted and his toy swooped in, took him. His mouth. His tongue. His mind. And Voldemort started to pant because that wasn't part of the game. Not his game. To be taken over. To be made to feel more than the superficial pain on his skin. He tried to stop the kiss, turn his head, but his toy caught him by the throat, fingers tight, pressing in, stealing breath he didn't seem to want to give back. His toy whispered. Sadistic. Eyes so green and so infinitely deep, deeper than any ocean. He looped the rope around Voldemort's neck. Tightened it,

"Watch me "

He pulled the rope.

Let's play then, V. And watch me…..."

Voldemort did.

"Watch me break you."

Check out my other fanfic named "Ensnared". It's actually a Harry Potter Version of "The Beauty and the Beast" Let me know what you guys think. Just follow the link below or visit my profile. Looking forward your feedback

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Check out my other fanfic named "No Escape." If you haven't checked it out yet. Just visit my profile or click on the link below

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