To Please

Harry sighed in irritation as yet
another bird began tapping at the kitchen window. At the rate the
mysterious birds were appearing, he would have no single unbroken
bone in his entire body. His uncle was threatening to board up his
cupboard with the freak in it if the birds wouldn't stop. As though
his uncle actually thought that Harry, the boy freak could do
anything as unnatural as stop the strange birds from pestering the
Dursley's with mysterious letters that Harry's uncle would tear up
and burn.

The birds had started coming over two
weeks ago, with everyday more and more birds arriving with thick
envelopes, until Harry's uncle had dragged him out of his cupboard by
a forceful grip on his hair and sat him down, telling him to write a
letter saying that he did not want to attend any such school, thank
you very much. What kind of school he was declining, he did not
know, but growing up in the Dursley household had a way of stunting
any curiosity in young freaks like Harry. After that, the birds had
stopped altogether. Until that Monday. It was the third day in a
row that the birds had come again.

“Boy!” The voice of his
uncle thundered through the house. Instinctively, Harry hunched
inward, even though his uncle wasn't even in the same room as him.
Yet another result of growing up in the Dursley household, he thought
wryly.

“That better not be one of those
mangy birds again, or so help me, I'll take it out of your hide!”
Harry imagined the entire earth shaking as he heard his uncle stomp
into the kitchen. Knowing what was about to happen, Harry quickly
put down the bottle of bleach and washcloth and stepped away from the
counter he was trying to clean. And none too soon, it seemed as the
second his uncle stepped in the room, he backhanded his nephew across
his face with enough force to cause Harry to stagger back a step and
twist his upper body away before he caught himself and hurried to
face his uncle. Harry knew the rules. Always face your betters.
Never look above the floor in the company of your betters. Never
speak until spoken to. Never question. Never act up. Never do the
unnatural.

And now it seemed that once again,
Harry had managed to do the unnatural. Harry never quite knew how he
managed to do that, but it was an unfortunate frequent event.

“Are you listening to me boy?!”
His uncle screamed at him, spittle landing on Harry's face. Again,
he backhanded Harry.

“Yes, sir.”

Instead of calming his uncle any, this
only seemed to infuriate him more.

“You little shit!” He
kicked out Harry's legs.

“You worthless whore!” A
vicious kick to the gut, causing Harry to curl up in a ball.

“You pollute us with your
unnaturalness!” Two more kicks to his lower back.

“You-” a kick to the ribs

“Little-” to the head

“Fuck!” Two more kicks to
the upper back.

There was silence for a little as
Harry remained curled in a protective ball, biting his lip to keep
back a groan. His uncle hated any noise from him unless it was asked
for.

“Get in your room, you freak!
I'll deal with you tonight!” Harry allowed himself to close
his eyes momentarily. He hated that punishment. He knew his uncle
spoke the truth, that he was a worthless freak, and he knew that he
deserved his punishment, but he still dreaded it, despite himself.

Quickly, he stumbled to his feet and
shuffled into the cupboard under the stairs, closing the door softly
behind him. He collapsed on his pile of blankets, and tiredly shut
his eyes, allowing himself to drift into a uneasy sleep.

He awoke several hours later to a
pounding on the door. The was a flurry of footsteps, and he heard
his uncle stomp to the door. Since his cupboard was right next to
the front door, we was able to listen in easily.

“What do you want?” His
uncle demanded.

A male voice Harry didn't notice
answered in a dark drawl. “I'm here for the brat, Potter.”

Harry felt shivers make their was down
his spine. The only thing worst than his uncle's “special”
punishments was when he was shared with other men. It happened
rarely, as Harry knew that many men didn't even want to touch his
freakishness, but when Harry was bad, they made themselves. Harry
didn't know that he had been that bad. Once again, he wished he was
normal like his cousin.

“Been referred here by another
have you?”

There was a slight pause before the
other man spoke. “Indeed.”

“Well, it's five hundred for the
hour, seven hundred for two.”

There was a longer pause.

Harry's uncle blustered to fill the
silence. “Here, I'll give you fifteen minutes to sample the
goods. Then when you figure out how long you want him, you can pay.”

The other man didn't speak again, but
Harry heard footsteps coming in. Once more Harry's uncle filled in
the silence. “Just go on up stairs, my wife will show you the
room. I'll just, uh, collect the boy, shall I.”

Harry heard soft steps move up the
stairs above his head and disappear. Suddenly, the door was wrenched
open. A large beefy hand shot in and grabbed the back of his neck
and hauled him out.

Without speaking, Harry's uncle pulled
him up against his large frame and kissed him harshly, biting his
bottom lip. Pulling away, his uncle spat on his face.
“You
little slut!” he growled. “You better be thankful that I
even try to correct you now. If you weren't such a freak, I wouldn't
have to do this!”

Harry said nothing as he gazed at the
floor, knowing that his uncle was speaking the truth.

“Now get up there, boy, and by
god, if there are ANY complaints, I'll throw you out of this house
and give up on our charity for you!”

Harry quickly scrambled upstairs and
into the guest bedroom, closing the door behind him. There was a
sharp indrawn breath from the man in the room, but Harry didn't see
anything other than the man's black boots, as he kept his eyes on the
floor. He knew what to do. Now it was just a question of what the
man wanted. Quickly, he shrugged out of his over-large shirt that
the Dursley's were nice enough to give him and his hands went to the
belt that held his jeans up on his narrow waist.

“Stop.” The voice was
harsh and twisted, as if the man was trying to hold back something.

Harry obediently dropped his hands to
his sides.

“Po-” A strangled sound
escaped from the mans throat. “Harry. Your name is Harry
Potter?”

“Yes sir.” Harry
nervously shifted, not knowing what was going on.

“Do you-” The man cut
himself off. “Has this happened before?” The mans voice
was incredulous.

Harry winced. He hated it when the
men got jealous. He knew he was a slut, so they couldn't help it,
but when they were jealous, they were harsher. “Yes sir.”
His voice was meek, soft.

There was a sigh and the man tiredly
sat on the edge of the bed. Harry hesitantly looked up from his
lashes, wondering if he should come forward yet. The man was dark.
He was a taller man than most, with long black hair. He was dressed
in black pants and a strange black shirt with a high color.

Seeing the man had his eyes closed and
was simply rubbing his forehead like he had a headache, Harry stepped
forward and knelt in front of him. Taking the initiative and hoping
it was the right thing to do, he put his small hand on the mans thigh
and started to move up towards his crotch.

At the contact, the mans eyes snapped
open and he looked at Harry surprised. After a second or two, he
sprang up from his position on the bed and started pacing the room.

Harry bit his lip, knowing he had done
something wrong.

“S-sir?” he asked
hesitantly.

The mans eyes snapped to him.

“How may I please you? Would
you like me to suck you off?”

Harry knew that sometimes men needed
to be asked. It was probably because he was so freakish. But some
liked it when Harry became more of a slut.

“No!.” The man resumed
pacing, throwing glances at him every once in a while. Harry shifted
nervously, not knowing what to do. If he couldn't find a way to
please the man, his uncle was going to be pissed.

Finally the man let out a big sighed
and looked toward Harry again.

“How long until your uncle gets
here?”

“Bout ten minutes or so...”

“Is there any possibility that
you have read the letters coming to you?”

Harry furrowed his brow, not getting
what was going on. “What letters, sir?”

“From the owls, you idiot boy!”

Harry flinched and looked down. “No,
sir.”

The man gave another sigh. “Well,
Potter. It was an invitation to a school. A magic school. You're a
wizard, Harry.”

AN:

Well, there you go. First chapter.
And yes, couldn't resist the last line. Anyway, reviews, please!